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a-b-riddle · 7 months ago

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Part Six

Can't stop thinking about reader finally giving the boys a taste of their own medicine. And hurting my own feelings in the process of it all. I wanted to make this a baddie reader chapter, but its just a saddie reader chapter. I played Down Bad by T.S on repeat while writing this. Y'all need to thank @blueladys-world for being my ventor for this part.

None of them came the next day to pick up the box of everything you had collected. By everything, quite literally everything. Birthday cards and gifts. Keepsakes from your time together they had given you. Even going as far as returning lingerie they had given you. You didn't want any trace of them in your home anymore. You were gonna have to work hard in rebuilding it to be your safe space once again.

You were surprised that someone from the expo had DM'd you. Renée was an author who had tried to stop by to your stand, but got too caught up in the day. She was in London, working on her next series installment and wanted to pick your brain. Writer to writer.

The two of you agreed on a time. She had mentioned wanting to try this restaurant the last time she visited and you already knew you would be putting that meal on a credit card. It was a bit of splurge, but after the past week you deserved it. You could even wear that sexy black number that had been collecting dust in your closet.

By the time you were done getting ready and squeezing into your dress, you looked more ready for a date than dinner with a colleague.

A colleague. You had a colleague!!!

The knock on the door pulled you from your girlish glee. You didn't need to guess who it was. Your friends knew to text you before they came over and Renée had agreed just to meet you at the restaurant.

It was one of them.

You didn't even t bother looking through your peephole before you opened the door to find Johnny standing there with a floral arrangement of your favorite flowers.

Johnny began to speak, afraid you were going to shut him down immediately no less. But no words came out. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking you in.

A vision.

You wanted to snap at him that your eyes weren't located on your hips. But damn if it didn’t feel empowering seeing Johnny’s gaze gloss over.

"Fuck me." He swore, gathering his bearings before realizing you were dressed. In a sexy black dress and heels and makeup and oh, fuck you were going out. "Where are you going?"

"First off, none of your business," you said holding a finger up. "And secondly, what are you doing here?"

"Listen," "Bon-"

"The box is right there." You said pointing to a large cardboard box on the floor. "That's everything."

"If you just let me make it-"

"Up to me?" You cut him off again. "I'm over it. Really."

"Just give me a chance."

"Either you haven't spoken to the other two to know I am well and truly done with this situationship, or you’re hoping some half-ass apology and flowers will let you get a last fuck in and the skedaddle. So hopefully if it was latter, hopefully the former answered that for ya.”

So if that's all you came here for, I've got to get going. My reservation is at seven and it's rude to keep a friend waiting."

"It's been a week and you're already going on a date?" He accused.

"Who said anything about a date?" You didn't outright say it wasn't. Where would be the fun in that? “It's just dinner with a colleague.” You didn’t want to lie. It wasn’t a date. But you didn’t need to say it was a woman. “Hardly a date.”

“Look at the sight of ye!" He said, taking the opportunity to take a quick look at how deliciously your ass filled that dress. “A fookin’ dinner with a colleague. Like one of us would show up to a briefing like that.” You opened your compact. Not needed in the age of cellphones but loving the feminine touch.

There was something so... seductive about using a compact mirror to apply your lipstick.

“Kyle does have the legs for this dress.” You said, applying that lipstick he loves. That same shade that looked beautiful on your lips. The same lipstick you would mark all over Johnny’s body. “Believe what you want. Not my problem anymore.”

You put your compact back in your purse along with the lipstick in case you needed to reapply it after dinner.

Johnny's eyes zeroed in on your lips before his eyes met yours. That's when you felt it again. That undeniably spark of chemistry that you had with him. With all of them. That feeling that sucked the very breath from your lungs and for a moment all you could see was the man in front of you.

"Bonnie," he said placing his hands on your neck. His thumbs stroking your cheeks softly. "Just one more chance." He begged, his voice breaking. "I'm a fucking git, but I won't let you go again. I won't leave." You knew that when it came to promises, Johnny had proven that even if he didn't mean to break them, he had forgotten he made them in the first place.

But in that moment you didn't care. Even after everything, Meredith was right. You had loved them. Everything else had ended so shitty. John had blamed you. Kyle had only shown up until it was too late. And Simon. The last time you would ever hear his voice was after he said such cruel things to you.

No.

If you were done with Johnny, you won't let the last time he fucked you being a quick, rough fuck doggystyle before leaving you naked and alone in your bed.

No. The last time with Johnny needed to be good. It might make it harder to finally leave, but you needed this. You needed to know that he could still make love to you and not just fuck you like an animal in heat.

"Johnny?" You asked. Your mouth dangerously close to his. "I don't want you to fuck me."

"I don't have to," he said, starting to take a step back to give you some space before your hands reached his. Holding him in place.

He can't let you go. You couldn't let him go. Not yet. Just one more. You needed just one more time to get him out of your system. The closure you needed.

"Make love to me." You begged, your eyes pleading. "I need to know that I wasn't just something you wanted to fuck." You don't move as his eyes search yours, looking for reassurance. When you nod, his mouth softly touches your own.

His hands travel along your body, but never fully leave you. Sliding your neck to your back. Pulling your body closer to his. A hand placed on your hip so tightly he's afraid you might disappear.

There's no rush, no haste in his touch. His mouth not eager to devour you.

He's slow. With his hands, his tongue. Even when he picks you up and walks to your bedroom with your legs around his waist.

He doesn't throw you on the bed.

Not this time.

He lays you down. His body laying on top of yours. His hand skimming along your bare thighs, but not daring to travel any higher.

But damn you needed him. You wanted love making, but if he didn't get inside you soon, you weren't sure you could let him go after this. You weren't sure you would be able to leave.

"Johnny," you whimpered, pulling away from his mouth. "Please." You took his hand, putting it between your thigh. Aching for any friction.

He obeyed without hesitation. If you told him to get on his bark, he would in that moment. Anything to make you happy. Anything to keep you.

"Got to get you out of this dress first." He resting on his knees before he began to slide the black satin from your thighs to your stomach. You maneuvered, helping him undress you leaving you in nothing.

"I thought you liked the dress." You couldn't help, but tease. Your hand finding its home on the back of his neck, pulling you to him once more.

In a tone lacking any note of humor and in all seriousness, he looked at you. Really looking at you. Taking in how your smile reached your beautiful eyes before he said, "I want you bare to me when I take you."

You felt your stomach flutter at his words before he began to take off his clothes.

He joined you again. His body relaxing when they got between your legs again. His mouth traveled from your exposed neck to your nipples. Sucking and flicking them with his tongue until your back arched. Pressing harder into his mouth.

Your hands tangled in his soft brown hair before you boldly guided him to your already dripping core. He slid down your body before his hands began to push your knees apart until you were fully expose to him.

With your knees bent, Johnny settled on his stomach, placing soft kisses on your soft inner thighs. God, did he love seeing you squirm. He smiled at your tortured expression before looking down at your sex. "There she is." He said before placing a kiss on your pussy.

It wasn't sloppy. He wasn't diving in and licking at your center like so many times before. He was kissing it just as tenderly as he kissed your mouth. Slowly building it deeper and deeper. Adding tongue. Breaking away to readjust his head.

The delicious ache between your thighs began to become to unbearable. "Need you inside me." You panted. "Johnny-"

"Shhh." He soothed. "Got to warm you up first , Bonnie." He said before slipping his finger inside of you. One was all it took before your head settled against the pillows again. When your body relaxed, he added another. He would need to add three to make sure you were good and ready.

His digits stroked that spongy spot inside of you that made your toes curl. "You're barely fitting around my fingers." Johnny was a good 6 inches in length, but the girth is what always did you in. It hurt to take anything past his head into your mouth. If you fucked him without any preparation, especially after a week of no sex, he would tear you into too.

His tongue caressed your clit, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your first orgasm creeping up on you.

"Johnny." You moaned, your fingers running through his soft brown hair.

"Give it to me, beauty." He panted. "Come on my face. Squeeze my fingers, Lass." He begged before his mouth went back to you.

It was like lightning. Your body now sensitive after being forsaken for so long. Your vision blurred and before you could process it, Johnny was sitting on his haunches between your legs, stroking his cock.

You could only nod, dazed and barely keeping a grip onto the reality of what this was.

The end.

He leaned forward, his cock nestling against you. You knew this was going to be nothing compared to his fingers. "Tell me if I need to stop."

You smiled, mockingly. Reminding him, "Not our first time together, Johnny." just our last.

"You were wrapped tight around my fingers." He gave a half smile before kissing your forehead. The gesture like a knife twisting in your heart. "I just don't want to hurt you."

"I'm ready." You brought your legs around his waist again. Pulling him to you, your arms wrapping around his neck as your mouths meet.

He presses into you. The head of his cock sliding inside just one or two inches. You body contracting around him in a small spasm. He swallows your moan and lets you adjust. He pulls away before looking down where the two of you meet.

"I could die like this, Lass." He said, his breath coming out unsteady as he tries his best to control himself. So close to just burying himself inside of you to the fucking hilt. "Seeing you like this is this first thing I want to see when I make it to the other side." You let out a choked cry as he pushes deeper inside you. Another inch. And another. And another until you're taking all of him.

He slurs something that sound like "fuck", but you are in too much of a daze to care. You arch into him, trying to get closer.

His thrusts are slow and deep. His pubic bone brushing against your clit making you whine and squirm. Begging for more.

You're not sure how long he had fucked you like that.

You needed it to stop.

You couldn't handle it. The softness. His words.

I could die like this, Lass.

Your lip quivered as you told him you wanted to be on top. You needed a moment. A chance to create a bit of space before he shattered your world yet again.

He pulled out. His absence already making you ache for him again before he settled beside you.

You squatted above his cock. Your feet flat against the mattress as you grabbed his hardness and slipping it inside of you. The sound you let out was pornographic. A high pitched, soft moan slipping from your lips as he buried himself inside of you again.

You placed you hands on his chest. Using the leverage to ride him. Your arms serving as barrier for you to get your bearings.

You used his body just as he had used yours. Throwing your head back, you moved faster and faster. Readjusting so your hands went from his chest to his stomach, giving him a better view of your connecting bodies.

His hand slips between the two of you, thumb pressing against your clit, and you tighten even more around. A needy whimper coming out of your throat. The sound mixing in with the sounds of his labored breathing and slapping skin as he begins to fuck up into you.

Even though he had been doing all the work for the last several minutes, you felt the tension start to creep into your calf.

"Fuck fuck fuck." You screech, barely able to hold yourself up any longer. "Ow." You hissed as the cramp took hold.

"Leg cramp?" He asked, not even faltering in his thrusts. You pathetically nod before he takes it upon himself to flip you on your back again.

"I'm going to do this every chance I can." He promises, pressing a searing kiss onto your exposed neck. "Any chance you'll give me." You can't take it. His words, his mouth, his fucking cock. It's too much. "I'm going to show you how much I want you. How much I want to fucking worship ye. Do anything to make you feel good. Not going to leave you again like that, Bonnie."

You reach for him again, pull him into a searing kiss just to shut him up. You need him to shut up. You couldn't take his false promises. You wouldn't survive it. Couldn't.

"Shit." His thrusts quicken, his thumb returning to your swollen bud. Flicking it in a way he had crafted into an art. He buries his face into your neck and you know he's getting close.

You weren't too far behind.

He didn't want to come, not yet, but this was fully out of his control. It was pathetic. A week without sex and you had him nearly coming in the first ten minutes.

But that's what you want. To see him lost in the idea that you would stay.

"Johnny." You groan out. "Please. Cum inside me."

He draws fast, beautiful circles around your clit that immediately push you over the edge. You shut your eyes tight, squeezing him like a vice as you come in strong waves, continuing to push inside you.

in out in out in out.

Deliciously clenching around him tighter and tighter until he can't take it anymore.

"Fuck," he says again, and you see it in his face, and you see it in his face, the second it's all over for him. You want to sear the image in your head. Keep it there forever. Knowing you'll never see it again. The way those enchanting blue eyes squint nearly shut before closing in complete ecstacy.

His mouth would open. A moan caught in his throat that he isn't ready to let go.

His hand closes around your hip, holding you to him while he presses as far as he can go, and it's only then do you feel his cock twitch in quick, jerky movements. He moans out your name before taking your mouth into a searing kiss.

"I fucking love you." He says. "So fucking much."

He was still under the blanket when you returned from the bathroom. You picked up your clothes up from the floor. Looking at the clock realizing you had less than five minutes to get out the door before you would be late for dinner.

"What are you doing?" he asked. You couldn't look at him. Hearing the panic in his voice almost made you stop. Tell him it really was just dinner with a colleague. A woman. That you would be back. Beg him to wait until you came home.

"I can't cancel on the dinner." You said slipping your feet into your heels. "This was a mistake."

You weren't sure why you said it. You weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. If you wanted to hurt him or make him think you regretted it when you would truthfully do it again. You would do it again and again. You would never stop.

Like Johnny, you could have died in that moment, but for a completely different. Where he would be content, you would be saved from the pain. The pain currently coursing throughout your very soul.

"Lock the door behind you." You say as you practically sprint out the bedroom. Only slowing in your stride to snatch your purse off the kitchen counter before running out. The door slamming behind you.

The restaurant was nicer than you expected. The wine alone was the price of an entree. You didn't seem to be phased at all and were relieved when Renée insisted on picking up the bill.

Your dinner had been delicious and the conversation even better. Renée wrote fantasy romance and wanted to pick your brain about a Why Choose. You had nearly spent out the over priced wine you weren't even really enjoying. Oh the irony.

"It's like all the rage now, but it's hard to make more than one appealing as the love interest. You should have seen the Goodreads comments on my last book. So many people bitched about my FMC not ending up with a character who was quite literally her adopted brother."

"So," you took a breath trying to find the words. "I'm going to be honest. I only read your latest book and I loved Luka. But I can't compare him to other MMCs you've written about so I don't know if they are similar or different. But what I can say is that I'm seeing like this trend of MMCs where they are all this dark-haired, brooding or mysterious character who dislikes mostly everyone and is only soft for either a select few or only the FMC."

"I think if you are going to write a Why Choose you need to think of guys you wouldn't mind falling in love with." You couldn't help, but think of what drew you to your boys. "One could be the leader. Someone who isn't afraid to have his neck on the line. To make sure everyone else is taken care of and being strong enough to handle the stress of that. He would be big on words of affirmation. Lifting the FMC up. For me, it would be someone that I know will take care of business. He's confident in his decision. That confidence would extend to me." You clear your throat. "If I was the FMC, that is."

"Okay." She nodded, pulling out a pen and notepad. "You don't mind if I-"

"I don't write about polygamy." Crossed that bridge. Currently trying to burn it. "So feel free."

"Another could be the one who it's so easy to fall in love with their charm. The one who falls to his knees. Wanting to worship every inch of her. The one who makes her laugh. That one to make her forget about the sadness that creeps into her bones. The one to hold her whenever he could. He's about quality time and physical touch."

"So different love languages." She said, her pen quickly scribbling.

"Yeah." You said, leaning forward. "Then there is the gift giver." Your mind went to Gaz. Most of the gifts and trinkets in the box sitting by your door had came from him. He had gotten you new earbuds when yours broke. When you were being harassed at your gym, he had bought you and him a membership at a different one. "The one who would give her the world if she asked for it. If you're going with a high fantasy then maybe the one to take note of something at a market that the FMC had been eyeing and he bought it for her. Just someone who takes notice like that."

"So acts of service would fall with all of them then you think?"

No. Simon had been the one who probably spent the least amount of money on you. He didn't praise you like John. He didn't even try to attach himself at your hip like Johnny.

But if you needed something fixed, he would come fix it himself. He'd be damned letting a strange man into your apartment. And alone? Fucking forget about it. The one who hated any sort of cardio activity outside of fucking you, but didn't hesitate in attempting to keep up with you when you wanted to go on a run and get some fresh air. If you needed something done, he didn't pay someone else to do it. He did it. If you wanted to do something, he made it happen. He made you safe.

You couldn't bring yourself to say explain it. Your eyes begin to itch. Warning you to think of something else.

So instead you just told her yeah. That they would all commit acts of service. And even in your hypothetical explanation of characters that haven't even been written yet, Simon was still the ghost among them.

"Lucky fucking girl." Renée said setting down her pen.

"Yeah." You said, downing the rest of your wine.

You walked home. The cool crisp wind feeling like it was whipping your exposed skin. It was soothing as the ghost of Johnny's touch still seemed to burn you.

You had hoped that you would get some closure, but you just felt hollow. You came twice and still manage to leave unsatisfied. Johnny wasn't malicious... he was Johnny. He wasn't like the others. Simon would never apologize and John and Kyle wouldn't try to keep reaching out after you told them know once.

Johnny couldn't stand you being mad at him. He never could. He would beg and beg for your forgiveness. You didn't regret fucking him one last time. He needed to know that you were well and truly done. There was no going back from this.

"Hey, Love!" You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice coming from a source you couldn't see. You perked up, quickly scanning the dimly lit street before your eyes settled on a cluster of shadows just across the street. "Yeah." The slurring voice said again. "Talking to you gorgeous!"

You resumed your trek home. Now picking up your pace. "Don't be like that! Where ya off to?" The voice followed you. You kept your gaze straight. You were three minutes away. Three minutes and you would be at your building.

Three minutes.

"What's the rush?" Another voice joined the cacophony. "Just want to have a chat."

You turned. They were maybe twenty feet away. You kept your eyes glued to them as your started to make a run for it.

You had made it about ten feet before your body collided with someone. Firm hands gripped your upper arms, steading you as you threatened to fall back.

You sucked in a breath of air, ready to scream when you looked up. It was too dark to make out the man's facial features. He was tall. His head eclipsing the street lamp just behind him. You shook beneath his hands. The voices behind you now silent.

"Keep walking." You didn't need to see his face. You knew that deep timber voice anywhere. He released you from his grip before letting you pass him.

"Just wanted to have a chat." You heard one of them try to reason. "No harm done."

"No harm done yet." Was the last thing you heard Simon say before you broke out into a full fledged run.

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #call of duty #angst

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yuzupurpletaro · 1 year ago

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Two years ago during lockdown, I spent my time creating Aziraphale's bookshop using cardboard and various other random materials I had lying around, creating this piece which I could slot into my bookshelf (now it sits next to my growing collection of @neil-gaiman works).

In celebration of Good Omens Season 2, I decided to post pictures of the completed project and the process here! It's my first time posting on tumblr, so forgive me if I'm a bit green.

Details and process below!

Before we ever got to see what was on the bookshop's upper floor, I imagined a bedroom, perhaps lived-in. Maybe a certain demon had moved in, along with their plants?

The teeny pride flag in the window is one of the subtle ways I sneak in a celebration of pride into my room, away from homophobic prying eyes.

My favourite details! I printed out both signs on Aziraphale's door, the images of which I believe I got from fans that posted them online.

Due to poor planning on my part, I started making this flower shop as well before I knew how it would fit in with the bookshop. In the end, they remained separate pieces. There was even a mini chalkboard sign for the flowershop, which I have no idea where it has disappeared to now.

It all started out in August 2020, when I put pencil to paper. Initially I wanted to create a street view, with the bookshop and flower shop on either sides. But honestly my brain was too small to figure out how that worked, so it didn't happen.

The most fun part was folding the tiny paper books. The least fun? Cutting rectangles out of cardboard and painstakingly gluing them down to resemble bricks.

Painting was alright, but on closer examination, the walls were all of different colours due to my inconsistent paint mixing. To ensure that what was essentially a cardboard façade of the bookshop could stand on its own, I created a pavement with added flowering shrubs and a lamp post. The street sign on the lamp post says 'Garden of Eden', which I now know should have been Whickber Street :)

And that's it! I believe I spent ~62 hours working on and off on it, and it certainly kept my lockdown blues at bay.

Can I hear a wahoo?

#good omens #good omens 2 #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens fanart #aziracrow

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godihatethiswebsite · 4 days ago

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Tethered Bonds

✽ Poly 141 x f!reader (Omegaverse AU)

A lucky stroke of fate led you right into the arms of your alpha soulmates. But is it everything you dreamed it would be or just the continuation of a nightmare?

Main Masterlist ✽ Ao3

✽ Part Five - On Trial

Apologies for the delay as there were a few speed bumps that my foggy brain just did not want to hump over. This chapter gave me some grief, but I'm still happy with how it turned out :)

Trigger Warnings: religious imagery, ptsd, angst, brief mentions of rape/incest/assault/drugging/coercion/miscarriage

Flat deadened eyes bore chasms through your own.

They peeled away the impregnable shroud of shame masking the abhorrent malefactions of those you’ve wronged.

In a split second of time, those eyes foisted judgment upon all your heinous sins with an executioner’s toll. Damning you to an endless oblivion amongst the cacophony of wailing souls eternally condemned to the River Styx.

Behold! The face of your adjudicator!

Blackened barbed wire constricts the fat of his gluttonous form. Exposed sickly ashen skin held together by threaded catgut, bursting at the seams with bone-white mold. Hellfire caged in little glass vials illuminates the agonized expression glued to a visage of perpetual torment, standing against a backdrop of towering decayed limbs, basking in the multitude of jewel toned offerings left by those who worship at the base of this miserable creature’s sacrificial altar.

…Of all the cheerful residents from the Hundred Acre Wood, who on god’s green earth decided that Eeyore of all things would be the poster boy for Christmas?

The melancholically predisposed cartoon character was a mess of tangled Christmas lights, having apparently failed in his endeavor to liven up the wilted excuse of a barren evergreen behind him and somehow succeeding in trapping his own pudgy form in the decorations instead – the ‘D’ in December knocked crooked in his fruitless struggles.

A paltry souvenir magnet from someplace sunny holds the calendar aloft, Winnie the Pooh designs posted on the side of your fridge with thick glossy sheets. A gift from your fathers; a new one included in their holiday care package every year.

You’re sure the overstuffed box currently shoved beneath your kitchen table for lack of anywhere more reasonable to house it has its plastic-wrapped replacement buried amongst the other contents. Previous years involved such colorful settings as early 2000’s internet memes or a compilation of fun facts regarding the world’s different varieties of cheeses. Not for your own enjoyment, of course, but for the chagrined expression your family insisted on basking in come Christmas morn.

Not that you admitted to liking this past year's theme of childhood whimsey…

The curlicue numbers on the wintery grid mark the passage of time – crossed out with dry streaks of red ink. Christmas is naught but five days from now, the emphasized date stamped in the upper righthand corner with a glittery ribbon as if the holiday needed even more call for attention. It means almost nothing to you outside of a familial facetime over a microwaved breakfast of cheap eggo waffles.

You’ll suffer congenially through the good natured poking and prodding. Chloe will send a text; Alex won’t. And the day will pass by in a whisper of silence – the magic of miracles stored back in their damp corporate box for cheapened rehashing the following year.

Holing away in the confines of your solitary habitat came with the added benefit of only exposing yourself to the overhyped celebration on a reasonable once-weekly basis, driving to and fro your therapist's office; painfully ignoring the garish spectacle of such yuletide enrichment as fuzzy wonky reindeer antlers wedged atop sticker splattered minivans, off-key fourth graders caterwauling carols in the backseat, tinsel and fiberglass grating on your teeth.

At least, your antisocialness normally would save you from such headaches.

When the pharmacy didn’t bungle communications with your primary care physician and refill your prescription two weeks early.

The voicemail left on your phone this morning was a little more than a minor annoyance. You’d only just finished chasing the taste of bile with citrusy mouthwash, leaning your leaded weight against the cold marble of the sink, stomach still spasming with painful braxton hicks-like contractions. Shaky hands splashed tepid water on your face, wicking away the evidence of exertion and clearing your chin of digested chicken noodle.

You’d only half paid attention to the robotic voice droning over speakerphone, wiping off your face with a disgruntled glare at your reflection and muffling a groan into the pilled fabric of your hand towel at the automated message. This was not a day to be playing at adulthood. This was a day for warm chunky socks and Disney movie marathons.

And now because some overworked new hire chugging Red Bulls probably keyed in the wrong refill date in an over-caffeinated zeal, you were once again paying for someone else's mistake.

(A running theme for your life.)

You shook off the bitter thought with a weary sigh, hanging the damp towel from the plastic command hook on peeling wallpaper. The buzzing of the keypad rattled the counter as you’d cleared out your phone’s voicemail, scooping up the device and trudging back around the corner to begin what should’ve originally been an easy day.

Now, a few hours of lounging had garnered you enough gumption to voyage out amongst proper society once more, rinsing your chubby dinosaur mug from earlier in the sink as your eyes flick up unwittingly to the calendar nearby.

You know what you’re counting even as you abash yourself for it.

The crumpled bag of mostly full coffee grounds has been sitting in your bin for the past two days, put there in an abstract protest to the blatant disregard of your feelings by a caustic alpha. The taste on your tongue has become as phantom as the scent that once clung to your coat rack, wafted away by a bottle of descenting spray the same way you wish to purge his lingering effervescence from where it's taken root in your spine.

The offending bag collects dust at the top of the pile, placed there in a huff at the start of every morning. When its existence mocks your suffering and the grief of a life you’ll never get to live is at the forefront of every painful heave into grimy porcelain, forced onto your knees like the flaccid servient creature that beast has morphed you into.

Still, there’s no sign of refuse or food waste on the flimsy outside packaging. It never stays put long enough to accumulate filth or bury itself in neglected disuse. At the end of the night, when the wounds of before are wrapped in a somnolent layer of protective padding, it returns to its spot amongst the clutter of your countertop, a pitiful idol to the foolish part he’s allowed to fester against your better judgment.

God, you’ve tried so hard to ignore it – you really have. With what little there is to occupy your mind in this lackluster environment, the labor of staying detached is proving arduous. John’s memory agitating the stripped-bare axis of simple order your world rotates upon.

Distraction eludes you at every attempt to forget. The warmth of your nest is the comfort of his leather embrace, the Zofran on your tongue the calloused paw at your nape grounding you in tempered reality. Soft boar hair bristles are his fingers, the zest in your meal his vigor. His face is in the deep prussian sweater jailed to the back of your closet for the sole crime of coming too close to the cerulean shade that haunts your waking memory.

You thought you already knew what it meant to belong to another. To be branded with someone else’s signet like a bored kid in history class taking chunks out of his desk until it was too desecrated with graffiti to be regarded as anything other than his unofficial property. No one wanted to touch what the school bully had already sullied.

Until John.

It didn’t matter that the seat was already occupied. He just scratched out the nameplate with safety scissors and staked his claim with a wad of gum beneath the chair.

He was dark matter wedging its way to take up space between condensed molecules, bullying the other elements into submission until his chemical makeup twisted you to something there was no coming back from. Sweeping in with the strength of a category five and the persistence of the big bad wolf.

You despise John for the damage he’s incurred to your house made of straw – all of them really – but you detest yourself even more for the gnawing disappointment flooding your gut that he hasn’t shaken the foundations further.

The hiss of pain between your teeth as you adjust the abrasive scarf around your neck serves as a sobering reminder of the real cancer infecting your cells. Even if the claim was buried under layers, it didn’t mean your flesh didn’t still carry the scars from its etching.

Slinging your purse over your shoulder, you take to the task of unlocking each of the bolts guarding you from the true terrors of an alpha’s altruistic attention.

Please just let this be quick.

The sneer from the old crone in aisle two has you ducking the latter half of your face in the itchy fabric that hides the one thing you’re currently being judged for.

You don’t know her name, but you’ve seen her outside the steps of your apartment enough with her hellspawn of a pomeranian to know she lives in your building. The grey curls of her poodle cut perm do nothing to hide the splotches of alopecia that come with age. Tissue paper skin dappled with sun spots begs for the youth of collagen, gaunt around her cheekbones and only highlighting her witchy exterior, a moth eaten shawl hanging loosely over the quasimodo hump keeping her from standing at a height taller than that of a twelve year old child.

The grouchy bat is clever, though, you’ll give her that. There’s a discerning eye behind those tortoiseshell frames that speak of a bygone prime filled with intrigue and gossip that’s followed her well into her twilight years.

She’s honed her intellect well.

And she knows.

Your skin crawls with maggots under her heated glare, boring subdermal tunnels that reach beyond the capabilities of a simple itch. The writhing anomalies only add to the growing discomfort of waiting in the pharmacy queue for far longer than need be. Ten minutes you’ve been behind the same middle aged man – too diffident to interrupt the conversation going on ahead of you – as what should’ve been a simple snatch and grab of his blood pressure medication turns into three decades of catching up with a bygone acquaintance from primary school.

“–when Janine drank some weird concoction back at Jimmy’s place. Fucking health nut has his own carbonator in his kitchen and she got the bright idea on six shots of cuervo to run a glass of milk through the damn thing. Ended up spewing all over Crystal’s pants.”

To their credit, the pharmacist had at least been working on filling prescriptions as he prattled on with the bald spot beta in front of you, bustling between stocked aisles of jarred substances and counting out little white tablets with every ping from the database. He just didn’t seem to care about the goings on inside the store. “Adam mentioned that when I ran into him at the football match last June. Isn’t that O’Hara’s omega? The one who used to save her gum in a giant ball after she was done chewing it?”

Eww. Seriously?

“Nah, that’s Abigail. Crystal was Billy and Carter’s girl.”

That seemed to catch the other alpha in his tracks, a quizzical brow replacing one of mild interest as he paused his fingers over the keyboard. “Was? What happened to her?”

“Fucking up and left them, that’s what. And right after they supported her through that unfortunate miscarriage too. Came home one day to an empty nest and a note on the table telling them she was done. Poor guys never even saw it coming.”

“Wow. Who would’ve thought she’d turn out to be one of them?”

“Yea,” the beta’s tone turned sour. “Unfaithful bitch.”

The Unfaithful.

That’s what they call you now.

Those who have forsaken their oaths and disgraced the name ‘omega’. The sanctity of packdom desecrated by egocentric bond breakers. Scheming harlots abandoning their worshipful protectors– denying them their designated rights and withholding the gift of eternal peace upon those alphas worthy enough to be chosen.

False omegas. Government apostates to how things are supposed to be run.

Doesn’t matter that those who claim to be victims before the courts are the same conniving bastards stripping us of our bodily autonomy. Nothing is impermissible.

Rape. Incest. Assault. Drugging. Coercion. Words that carry weight become cotton candy deadlifts in the face of a mating bond. It has no undoing – no magic words or medical procedures. There is no running towards the arms of a better pack in hopes of a brighter future; no room for another in the tether of your soul. That anchor has taken root in the rock bed and cannot be claimed outside the mysticism of a scent match.

Crueler parts of the world would hunt you down like the runaway slave they’re too cowardice to admit they perceive you as, a bounty placed upon your head and welts on your back for disobeying, brittle nails clawing at the dirt in a last attempt at freedom, dragged back to your master in an iron wrought collar displaying the shame of your sins.

Suppose you should consider yourself lucky that here, amongst the dredges of refined society, your kind are merely shunned.

Bosom friends all turn their backs, work desks empty into a cardboard box under the guise of ‘performance issues’. The deli at the corner claims they’re closed, red blocky letters drawing blood by the gallons as the patrons inside regard you like you’re nothing more than a sopping wet stray begging for scraps in the rain.

There are no laws that protect from discrimination for people like you. The lease in your fathers’ names and the lie from their lips are the only things sheltering you from homelessness. Others are not so fortunate as to have the word of an alpha keeping them off the street.

The forlorn promise of a better tomorrow is all that greets you now in the wake of devastation. There is no higher contract than the bite marks on your neck.

The scathing look from the disgruntled woman would be warranted by those around you if they were privy to the same suspicions she carried. The signs were all there if they only knew where to look.

“Miss?”

You hardly notice when they end their interaction, the off-putting customer service smile from the alpha behind the counter making the pit of your stomach rumble with unease as you scurry to the front, quietly offering up your personal information as you place your ID on the counter.

If he only knew he had the power to blacklist you in his hands…

You fork over the cash in far shorter time than the previous customer did, spending less than two minutes to his twenty before you duck away from the substantial line that’s formed in the time since your subsequent arrival.

It’s your luck the old hag is three guests behind you, averting your gaze to the task of stashing your meds to try and keep from further interaction. Too bad a half century’s worth of smoking comes out in the rasping slur she spits at you from underneath her breath.

“Fucking glitch.”

You’ve heard the words directed at you once before, only far more cutting and uttered from a far different mouth. That didn’t stop the insult from piercing through to bone, a deep ache in your ribs that slows your gait and gives you pause beside the basket drop-off.

A quick glance around confirms a lack of disdain from your fellow shoppers. You’re surprisingly fortunate that her biting remark hadn’t been made any louder. You frequent this shop often enough to be recognizable to most of the staff – though not on any sort of conversational terms. Being blacklisted here wouldn’t just result in an inconvenient trek farther for medical service, but a mark that would deny usage no matter the location.

Every step out your front door is a chance for your past to catch up to you… in one form or another.

A shock of cold jolts you from your far-away stare, startling a yelp that draws brief attention as you jump back from the unwanted contact, hand retreating away at the abrupt offense. Cradling it to your chest, you’re met with cobalt eyes and sunshine hair, a bright eyed pupper beaming up at you from its spot perched at your feet.

“Sorry about him!” An apologetic voice squawks to the left of you, calling your attention to the hobbling beta woman at the other end of the leash. Her neon green marshmallow puffer greets you before her dark curls and round cheeks, a prosthetic hand keeping grip on her furry friend. “He’s a well behaved boy I promise! Ain’t gonna bite ya or anything.”

“Oh no, he’s fine!” The tremble in your words is more from social awkwardness than anything, having been caught off guard in a place far too crowded for your tastes, rolling your shoulders to halt the impulse to scratch. “Just wasn’t expecting a wet dog nose is all.”

The beta, on the other hand, has no problem running a knitted mitten over the back of her neck. “Yeaaaah, it’s not often he gets away from me like that. You see, he’s my service animal.” She calls attention to the black vest around his body, a litany of bright colored patches and big blocky words adorning the functioning harness that you hadn’t quite discerned upon first glance. “He uh… was just alerting to you.”

It takes you a moment to process the words, blinking down at the panting canine regarding you with eyes more keen than the pea-brained expression would suggest.

Good to know even a dog can sense you’re nine different levels of fucked up.

“You can pet him if you want,” comes the gentle offer upon spying the embarrassment painting your features, taking her faithful companion’s inattention in stride. The quirk of her mouth gives you a green light even if her words already did. “Far be it for me to disagree with the boss here when he puts his mind to something.”

The words of declination rest limp on your tongue, a moment’s hesitation giving way beneath the understanding gaze of an impartial animal whose sole purpose is to provide the comfort of love. Crouching down to its level – uncaring of the salt trekked state of the tile – it's almost instinctual to wrap your arms around the retriever for an act that seems so much more dangerous coming from any other being. The muzzle that finds home in the junction of your shoulder roots you through the floor, going beyond solid concrete foundation and miles of serpentine pipeways, winding through terraceous cracks unyielding to the progress of man to find purchase in the damp soil unseen for thousands of years, unbowing to the anything but the turn of the earth.

Calm is not the word; the pounding pulse in your ears and the headrush of being out in public still ring through the chittering bustle of checkout lanes to keep you on your toes. Yet the ache in your soul feels less like a boulder and more like a handful of a pebbled shore.

Pulling away from the smell of damp fur, slobber greets your face in the form of affection, features pulling taut against the playful onslaught trying its best to intrude between the cracks of your mouth.

“Easy does it, bud.” A soft yank on his harness serves as a gentle reminder, turning from loveable pup to esteemed gentleman panting in perfect submission. “No one wants to taste what you had for lunch earlier today.”

You flash her a grateful smile for the interference, fingers moving next to scritch around the bright red collar mostly hidden by dense hairs, a glinting dog bone with cursive scrawl clacking against the knuckles of your hand. “Rocky, huh?”

“Yea,” she chuckles. “Don’t judge, but he was actually my favorite power ranger as a kid.” Her mittened hand joins yours in the thick pelt of his neck, scratching at some secret spot that gets his tail thumping, the appendage a whirling propeller trying in vain to achieve liftoff. How long they must’ve been in each other’s company for such familiarity. “Figured since this little guy was gonna be my hero too, he deserved a name befitting the courage he inspires.”

Her sincerity sparks something in you as you reach back to your own childhood, the sizzling of pancakes on the griddle against a backdrop of Saturday morning shows. Your smile warms at the memory. “Hey, no judgment here. After all, mine was Tommy.”

The moment breaks with shattered glass somewhere off to the right, the both of you reacting with varying degrees of frazzled nerves. You don’t miss the way her hand strikes out with practiced swiftness towards her hip, something nonexistent bumped away from flexing fingers by a patience nudge. Wide eyes glance down at her stalwart companion, already staring back with all the surety of his namesake, pushing her palm further against the smoothness of his head, urging her to stay with him in the safety of the moment. You don’t know the ghosts that haunt her–doing your best to avert your gaze from the glimpse of carbon fiber–but you watch as they retreat with calming breaths back to the place where they were born.

She shoots you a look you know she rather wouldn’t, an unspoken apology wrapped in embarrassment as familiar to you as it is to her, understanding passing between mirrored irises. There’s a shuffling of feet as you both scurry on your respective ways, you towards the outside air while her path takes her further inward. A quick glance over your shoulder finds him pressed against her side, snout turned upwards with a lolling tongue and dopey smile, eyes on the caregiver staring back at him with fond devotion. To have something that loves you that much…

Your gaze softens along with your words. “Good boy, Rocky…”

Fire ants bite into your cheek as the sharp crack that accompanies them leaves an outline of lava, the slap mark on your face glowing red hot and searing with the weight behind their assault. It dulls as the molten rock cools, a beating heart on the surface kept in time with the now racing pulse in your neck. The shock of it is almost as painful as the protruding iron shelves getting knocked against your spine, blowback jostling the festive display contents some poor stocker worked so hard on as cardboard cubes of kleenex clatter like ornaments to the muck-stained floor.

The outcry from your lips is muffled in comparison to groaning metal shifting under your weight, hand instinctively flying up as a wall to protect from further onslaught. Heat blooms again even under your careful touch, hissing in a gasp as wide eyes filled with glistening saline catch up a moment before your nostrils take in a familiar decadence.

Her omega scent of rich warm brownie, fresh out the oven – but swallowed from the edges by the beginnings of char. Too high a temp getting cooked for too long, potent in its fury as it cracks and concaves. A sickeningly sweet outer shell transmuting under pressure, turning perfect gooey fudge into bubbling tar.

The visage that greets you is tempered by dread; a mixture of refined beauty and smoldering hate.

White fluffy earmuffs contrast against long chocolate waves spilling like molasses over a matching pristine peacoat – as if not even fate itself dared to sully such purity. If the air of refinement somehow doesn’t outclass you than the designer handbag does. No pack could ask for a more exemplary omega.

You’ve seen those cheekbones on the cover of magazines, that glassy skin splashed clean in luxury skincare ads. Perfect porcelain as artistically rendered as fine chinaware. Every model you’ve ever envied taken shape as your worst nightmare. Dark bambi eyes red-ringed with acidic tears, button nose flaring with each heaving rise of her trembling shoulders. Full pouty lips quiver under the enormous weight of emotions that threaten to claw almond manicured nails through your skin like chainsaws.

There is anger, but there is also pain.

And you caused it.

You do not know which response consumes you more: panic, or shame.

“You–” her voice breaks like her heart, delicate wind chimes in a spring downpour. “You s-stay away from them…” Her words come in a struggle, fighting for stability whilst she hangs onto her composure with a thread as thin as spider silk. “They’re not yours… so… so just– just leave us alone!”

Gone is the lighthearted vision spun in innocent etherealness from that day in the store. Sparkling doe eyes now filled with scorn don’t suit the unblemished being not a foot in front of you. There’s an ingrained sweetness in her now pitiful form that so easily calls to an alpha’s protectiveness, a creature that deserves to be cherished, adorned; royalty reincarnated to a modern day princess.

There are only traces of that now standing a few feet in front of the automatic sliding doors, a smashed box of tissues keeping the mechanism from closing and sending a chill over the entire conversation.

You shrink in on yourself, lowering your gaze in a meek show of submission that speaks where your own voice fails. How could you continue to look her in the eye when you are the reason this woman is suffering? When you are the bad guy in every sense of the word?

Filth. Sullied. Poison. Suffocating her with your very presence as if your own tainted pheromones could overcast hers.

You expect more–deserve more–but she turns on her heels, the sensors allowing passage as she hurries back out the way you suspect she only just came.

You’re as stunned as the bystanders around you, blinking at her retreating form into the small parking lot beyond. You can’t help but watch as she races across the asphalt, thoughts of her own task left behind in a trail of her own tears. Badly muffled whispers start in earnest at the display. Chorused words of ‘wicked woman’ following you out onto the pavement. Tongues lashing into open wounds kept bleeding by your own shame.

That pain is nothing in the wake of the familiar figure of a towering form.

He meets her halfway, hulking mass climbing out from the cab of a blackened range rover at the first sign of her obvious distress. From this far away you can only make out the sounds of heaving sobs, watch as dainty hands clutch the dark material of her protector, the furrow of his brow as he searches for answers to her suffering.

Whatever she responds, you find yourself once more snapped in place by the weight of his stare, looking no less worse for wear than the first time he did.

Logic says the phantom tartness on your tongue is a hallucination ingrained from previous exposure, but the inner omega whining helplessly to be understood doesn’t comprehend the self inflicted wounds she scores with brittle claws at the first chance to taste. In many ways, designative instincts retain the innocence of youth: purely reactionary in their naive disregard. They’re doe-eyed five year olds holding up the mangled body of a broken baby bird and proclaiming ‘they can fix it’. To them, they don’t realize the damage that comes with wishing for a bite of lemon zest when they know that cupcake is theirs, deaf to the scolding of a parent who knows better.

After all, what gives you the right to take what hasn’t been offered? For wishing for the comfort of an alpha’s scent that doesn’t belong to you? All it does is make you feel like the shameful thief the people in the shop think you are.

So you keep your distance from the alpha and his mate, once more stuck in a whirlwind of unintentional trouble. He’s too far away to make out the hues of his eyes, but his body language tells you exactly where he stands in all this. Fingers flexed in a possessive grip, the placement of his hand curled around her mid back, the subtle hunch he takes as he tucks her tearstained face beneath his covered chin.

A choice.

Conceal. Protect. Intruder.

You once wondered at the outcome if you hadn’t run that night; if the call that beckoned you ‘wait’ had kept you rooted to the floor. How would this mammoth have reacted - the one who only watched in pure neutrality as your world crumbled apart? Would he have let his friend make the first move forward? Would there have been an altercation? Spoken words and awkward introductions such as with their Scottish brethren? Did they care about your cowardice? Did the alphas give you chase? Lose your scent in the produce aisle and catch their breaths in the crisp night air?

At last you have your answer.

The judgment he passes as he turns his back to you has far more gravitas than the mopey donkey on your fridge. The conjured images of morbidity that entertained you earlier this morning feels like a holiday in comparison to the way your arteries shrivel from necrosis; down another size and a half by Grinch standards.

(Would it ever grow again?)

Closing your eyes against the sight is all you can do to maintain your sanity.

“Lass!”

As if life hasn’t finished causing you torment enough, the rough brogue catching your ears has your eyes peeling back open, the depression gluttoning away at your insides taking note at the promise of further feast, cackling gleefully at the tousled mohawk rounding the the opposite side of the vehicle his companions are approaching. Concern sits heavy on his brow, footsteps sure of their path as the pair sidle up along the drivers side of their SUV, lemon shuffling his omega through the open door he holds and into the relative safety of the back seat. You expect John to join them – to fuss and coo over her the same way he did for you in the cafe. Your masochism soaks up the envy like a yorkshire pudding at Christmas dinner.

But he makes no move to join his mate, blazing a path that leads beyond.

It’s not her he’s calling out for. It’s you.

Something smothers in your chest at the meaty glove that yanks him backwards, the heft of his brawn outmatched by the iron grip stopping him from advancing any further, shoved back against the shiny black of the range rover. The suspension creaks from the sheer force of the impact, giving you a hint as to the momentum which was suddenly reversed and applied to the hull, vehicle tilting a few centimeters off its wheelbase before thudding back down to settle on its chassis.

Charged static fills the air as overwhelmingly as the growl ripped from their chest – from which alpha you aren’t sure. The palpable anger that must be flaring in their scent chokes those unfortunate few nearby into hurrying along, a group of teenagers giving wide berth as the old man a few cars over shoves something fragile into the boot with a telltale crunch, slamming the latch shut before climbing over his center console to the steering wheel from the opposite side. No one wants to get involved in pack business, much less find themselves collateral damage in a showdown between behemoths.

Where lemon’s mouth is obscured, John’s isn’t, giving you unfiltered access to the snarl he spits up at the man a few inches taller than him. He makes his displeasure clear in a volume still too quiet for you to grasp, but his argument is apparent in the gesturing of his arms, the wildness matched by the heart he so clearly wears on his sleeve. His packmate stands in complete opposition to the outward show of aggression by the former, striking in his marble-like appearance, firm against the blunted chisel of whatever’s being discussed. The only sign that he’s participating comes in the form of the other’s interrupted pauses.

Your thoughts turn to the omega inside overhearing all of this. The discontent she must feel down the bond from those she loves most has to be just as painful as the ability to hear the quarreling itself. What must she be going through–huddled alone in the shadows by herself–having to listen to what you assume is an argument over another woman… one that a mate is clearly defending?

What consumes her more? Is it rage? Betrayal? Anguish? Abandonment? Jealousy? Your heart goes out to her at this moment in a way you’re not sure her packmates are knowing or even empathetic to.

You suddenly flinch as if being struck by the accusatory finger pointed in your direction by the up-until-now stoic alpha, nose to nose with a man he’s spent nights pressed even closer against. Whatever point he makes, there’s no rebuttal from the Scot this time – only a strained moment’s silence.

At last John shoves away the arm holding him, straightening his jacket with a look that says this isn’t over as his companion walks away to the driver’s side door. You don’t pay him further mind though as John huffs out his anger like a bull, raking a hand through his hair before meeting your gaze with far more softness. He sees it in your eyes the same way it reflects in his. Two pained apologies spoken without words.

Dark tint keeps you from seeing them as they enter the vehicle and drive off, peeling away with a nod to the discomfort inside but with enough self control to not endanger the ‘precious cargo’ in the back seat.

You knew the other day was too good to be true. It’s clear now the damage you’ve incurred in your foolish desire to forge a connection. The lies John told you to placate his unthinking selfishness. Why the radio silence has been deafening your apartment.

Nothing is alright. Everything is broken. You’ve ruined god knows how many years of passion and devotion by the sole act of your own pathetic existence.

You’ve robbed her of that–robbed them. Another reminder that they cannot give it to you. She has taken your place. They cannot claim another.

It’s your fault. Your fault.

Your fault your fault your fault your fault your fault…

You can’t breathe.

Something’s crawling up your throat. You can’t–

As customers pass the threshold of the automatic glass doors, no one pays any mind to the sounds of retching in the dumpster.

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thecapricunt1616 · 7 months ago

Text

Cinnamon - (c.b. one-shot)

Snippet (more BTC): “Can I- take your panties off…p-please?” He asked shyly “wanna make y’feel good - wanna taste your pussy I miss it s’much - tastes so good baby please lemme taste you” he said and his whiney husky voice mixed with his breathlessness from being shoved into the fabric of your dripping cunt made you clench around nothing.

♡ One Shot Inspo: Cinnamon invokes lust and is considered an aphrodisiac. It can be used in love spells as well as for sex magic. Burn cinnamon to stimulate your spiritual powers and increase your psychic ability and awareness.

♡ Summary: Carmy hasn't had pussy in 2 weeks....he nearly died (he's a drama queen, but you love it) So, being the loving amazing GF you are you Mountain Dewed it up down left right (oh!!) switched it up like Nintendo - and did it so well you put his ass to sleep. (I listened to Espresso the whole time writing this its literally all I could think about hahahah)

♡ W/C: 4,140

♡ Posted Date: 05/12/2024

♡ A/N: HEYYYY!!! Okay okay so MORE STAGEFRIGHT because the amazing wonderful talented goddess level writer @l4long-winded sent in ♡THIS♡ big brain beautiful ask, and let me tell you I had some THOUGHTS!!! I have such a worship kink so .... yeah this was v fun to write. I hope you love reading as much as I loved writing. My dear please send in a request whenever you want!! Requests are open per usual :D

♡ Warnings for BTC: Kinda Sub!Carmy, Smut, Fem!Reader, AFAB!Reader, No use of Y/N, No use of physical descriptors, Black!Fem!Reader friendly (i'm pretty sure pls tell me if smth needs editing!), Kinda Virgin!Carmy, Not edited (we die like men)

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

It had been quite literally a fortnight since Carmy had been able to fuck you. It was all he’d thought about, well - when his brain wasn’t busy going a million miles an hour about the restaurant, which is exactly what had taken up so much of his time lately. He’d usually be grateful for this kind of work, the kind of work that he’s going in at 3:15 and not getting home until 11:30 pm or midnight when you were already fast asleep.

He was exhausted, emotionally, physically, mentally, spiritually - but sexually?! He wasn’t sure he had ever been so wound up before. His nightly sessions of jerking his cock in the shower, biting his hand to keep as quiet as he could while he thought of the view of you when he came in that night. One leg hoisted up, nightgown ridden up over your ass. The one you knew he loved, and some of his favorite panties.

You called them your lazy girl panties because you told him you only wore them when you weren’t expecting anyone else to see them, but that very fact meant drooled over them. The slight discoloration from being so old, the little threads hanging off the leg holes and waistband. The tiny hole right in the waistband that he loved to thumb with while cuddling in bed.

Two weeks. Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty six hours. Twenty thousand, one hundred and sixty minutes.

That had been how long he had gone without being inside of you. He didn’t know his dick could get depressed, but his dick was fucking depressed. Getting off felt like a chore. When he’d jack off, he took an extra 15 minutes yanking on the thing because he could barely cum anymore, even though his balls were aching like he needed to.

Every time he got home, he’d stand in the doorway, just watching you. You would be peacefully asleep, chest lightly rising and falling, your beautiful body covered by some loose sleep thing. A loose sleep thing that he fantasized about ripping off into shreds.

Tonight though - he could cry. You were up - you were fucking awake. Through his own selfish desires he didn’t even realize it was abnormal, the only thing he could think about was the blood rushing to his cock at the mere idea you could possibly potentially be in the mood. “Baby?!” He nearly tripped over his own two feet rushing to your shared bedroom.

You were sat up on the bed, book on your thighs - a loose nightgown that accentuated your curves and hugged your peaked nipples uncovered by any bra. He could bust in his pants and all you were doing was reading. Reading what? He could care less honestly because his cock was starting to hurt.

You sat up, putting your legs over the side of the bed to get up and greet him “Bear! How was work love? I wanted to stay up so that we could - what’re you…” you trail off confused as he slinks to his knees before you, between your thighs and lifting up your leg, putting the top of your foot to his lips.

“In…22 minutes” he starts between kissing up your bare ankle and calf “it..will have been..15..days..” he stopped at your thighs, his cheek smushed against the flesh, he looked like he could both cry and that he was coming home. “Since I touched you. Please. Please baby - can I make you feel good? Mm?” He mumbled into your skin. “Please princess? I’m dyin’ here. I’m fuckin- I literally cut my hand t’day thinkin’ bout you. I fuckin need you” he kissed over each little tiny inch of your flesh. He was…worshiping you.

The idea sent waves of warmth flooding your core. “Yeah baby?” You took his hand, seeing a bandage over his knuckle and kissing it gently.

The feeling of your lips to his skin made him whimper “please- please please please” he begged, sitting back on his feet and looking up at you through his bangs, pushing his hair back quickly before his hand found your calf once again, rubbing little strokes into it “please?” He asked softly, his big blue eyes blown wide with lust.

You gently cup his cheek “and who’s fault is it?” You were teasing now. But you knew the bastard loved a challenge, and you also had been horny and your fingers were nothing compared to Carmys.

“Mine. It’s mine. My stupid fuckin job angel I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, how can I make it up? What can I do pretty? Mm? I’ll do whatever you want” he begged you and kissed over your knees and calves, pressing short little pecks to the skin. You grabbed his greasy curls at the root, raking through a few of the knots gently before pulling him to look at you and he moaned gently at the sudden firmness

“Do you know I’ve been fingering myself to fall asleep. All alone - for all those days you said. My poor hand” you held it up and he brought it to his lips on instinct, kissing the pads of your fingers before opening his mouth expectantly. “Good Bear” you purr and his eyes flutter shut as you stuck in your middle and ring fingers, slipping them over his tongue. He moaned at the contact, not holding back.

You smiled a bit, tugging his jaw open and he looks up at you, cheeks flushed and drool beginning to drip down his chin. “You’re pretty” you said softly and he swirls his tongue around your fingers before sucking on them gently, not breaking your gaze. Your stomach flips with excitement, your panties becoming uncomfortably wet but you weren’t going to let that show. He deserved to beg.

“Do you deserve to be sucking on my fingers though?” You pull them away suddenly and he gasps a bit a the unexpected emptiness of his mouth, a pathetic little pout appearing on his lips.

“No” he said softly and you grab his cheeks, smushing them gently “but I can make you feel soooo good - you deserve it” he told you and you pat his cheek gently with your hand, your wet fingers leaving a glistening streak on his cheek.

“I know I do. Are you gonna eat me out? Like a good boy?” You laid back on your elbows, spreading your thigh and resting one of your feet on the edge of the bed, showing your panties that had grown a large wet spot during your conversation. He watches every move you make, his eyes focusing on the wet spot you sighed softly, deciding to take pity on him. “You can sniff my panties, you little freak” you giggle and he looked up at you like a kid on Christmas

He wasted no time shoving his nose right in the wetness, inhaling your sweet yummy scent and groaning “thank you” he mumbled into the curve of your ass, his hot breath against the skin causing your clit to twitch and goosebumps to appear on your skin. You feel him taking another deep breath and nuzzling his nose back and forth to get deeper like a dog and you couldn’t help but giggle, raking through the knots in his curls as he stuck out his tongue and caught the fabric of your panties with his teeth, sucking the juices out of the fabric and moaning hotly.

His hands were everywhere, rubbing over your calves, your thighs, your stomach, pushing your nightgown over your tits and rolling a peaked nipple between his fingers. You bit your lip, head falling back slightly and grinding your hips into his face, using his nose to get yourself off. “Go ahead Bear take off your jeans, you’ve been good t’night and I know you’re probably hurting” you told him

He sighed into you gratefully “y’too nice t’me” he kissed over your clothed pussy a few times as he unbuckled his belt with shaking hands, the anticipation was killing him.

“No me being nice would be telling you that you could touch yourself. And no dripping on my carpet” you told him as he pushed his boxers and jeans enough to let his cock free that was indeed dripping already. His boxers were creamy and wet with pre, he had been pathetically grinding against the boxspring as he sucked your panties like it was his life source.

“Shit-“ he said, wrapping a fist around his weeping tip as he continued tonguing and nosing at the fabric between your legs. “Can I- c-can I please?” He begged pathetically, that softness to his voice you loved so much. A sweet whiney grunt leaves his lips as you pull his hair, forcing him to look at you.

“What have we talked about? Use your words.” You said firmly.

“Can I- take your panties off…p-please?” He asked shyly “wanna make y’feel good - wanna taste your pussy I miss it s’much - tastes so good baby please lemme taste you” he said and his whiney husky voice mixed with his breathlessness from being shoved into the fabric of your dripping cunt made you clench around nothing.

“I wanna cum twice before you even think about touching yourself. Also take your shirt off you’re way overdressed for my taste.” You dropped his hair and he nods obediently, standing and shoving off his jeans and tugging his shirt off by the neck in that stupid jockish way that had you wanting to shove him down back first on the mattress and ride him until his balls were empty.

Instead you kept your cool, crossing your arms over and slipping your nightgown over your head before taking off your panties, flicking them at him playfully to which he balled them up and pressed them to his nose, inhaling deeply. This caused you to laugh as you adjusted your pillow to lay back, spreading your thighs and gathering some of your wetness from your hole, dragging it up to your clit and rubbing little circles into it.

“Mmm are you gonna keep sniffing those like a pervy-puppy or are you gonna come make good on your promise. I’m surprised this poor hand hasn’t fallen off” you teased and he dropped the panties where he was standing, coming and crawling on the bed, laying in front of you and hoisting your thighs over each of his shoulders

“Mmm” he hummed, his eyes fluttering shut and leaning in, resting his cheek on your thigh and inhaling. “Smell so fuckin’ good” he mumbled “mouth is literally watering” he kissed your inner thighs sweetly, ravishing the skin in gentle affection. “God I missed this fuckin missed this s’much. Every morning this pretty fuckin pussy is just beggin me” he kissed your mound gently, dipping his tongue out and moaning at the taste of sweat and lotion on your skin, lapping it up like a life source.

“Yeah? I think you’re the beggar” you mused, jaw falling slack as he licks a stripe up your heat, moaning pathetically at your taste. His eyes rolled back slightly before fluttering shut in pure bliss “mmm so pretty baby” you coo and he smiled slightly, his cheeks a blushy pink that matched the tops of his ears. He nuzzled into you, nose rubbing over your clit in the way that made you gasp, your toes curling lightly “good boy” you praised, voice breathy and light

“Taste so good” he mumbled into your cunt, squeezing your thighs gently with his tattooed fingers. He moaned into you, watching you with wide lustful eyes.

“Those pretty eyes” you said softly, gently brushing his warm cheekbone with your knuckle and he hums into you gently. He sucked your folds between his lips, pulling away slightly and rubbing your thighs up and down with his calloused palms, squeezing gently. You moaned hotly and couldn’t contain the cry that followed when he finally stuck his middle finger in your dripping hole, hips bucking to try and get more of him.

“So soft, so so soft” he mumbled into your clit before kissing it gently and taking the now swollen throbbing bud in his mouth, flicking his tongue over it quickly. His fingers twist and curl as he pumps them in and out at a languid pace. You felt that familiar jolt of pleasure as the pad of his finger brushed your g spot.

“Augh- ah- yes bear” you mewled, “right there- there” you grab his wrist and squeeze it and in response he curled his fingers the same way and you dug your feet into his shoulder blades in pure extacy, causing him to grunt into you and curl and uncurl his fingers in a rhythm that had your eyes screwing shut and loud strings of curses and moans tearing from your chest as you came undone over his fingers, dripping down his wrist already. But with how long it had been since you had him this way, that was to be expected.

“Good - good bear good bear” you mumble praise as your orgasm washes over you he works you through it, resuming pumping his fingers - your dripping arousal being able to be put to use as lube. The schlick,schlick,schlick sound of his fingers is what you come back to, your mind fuzzy and swimming through a warm sea of pleasure, sweet jumbled moans and whimpers coming from your lips.

“God you sound so fuckin’ pretty baby I love you so fuckin much m’so sorry m’so sorry I haven’t been around as much” he mumbled into you and you shake your head

“S’okay shhh- shh just keep doin’ what you’re doin’” you push his head back down, watching as his eyes flutter up to look at you and he sweetly offers his other hand for you to hold, your heart melting at the gesture. “Such a sweet boy” you coo, taking his hand and lacing your fingers together. He smiled a bit in response nuzzling his nose against your clit, his lips making cute little smacking noises against your cunt.

“You’re so messy” you giggle a bit, seeing as the tip and bridge of his nose were wet with your slick, as was his chin and entire mouth area. “Your face is so wet baby” you told him and he looked up at you

“Mmm m’neck is wet too” he paused to say before resuming and you gently caress his cheek, the only sounds filling the room being the wet drill of his fingers and the smacking of his lips, like he was trying to devour a popsicle before it melted.

You felt your second orgasm quickly approaching, your walls fluttering around his fingers, he curled up into that spot and that was your undoing once more, your hips pushing back into the mattress and spine arching off the bed towards the ceiling slightly as your orgasm crashed over you with no mercy to be had.

“Jesus- fuck!” You cried out and he held your thighs open for you so you wouldn’t crush him by mistake, your hands shaking as you went to wipe the tears that had gathered in your eyes that were screwed shut from the intensity and Carmy stops you, carefully wiping your cheeks with his dry hand and removing his other carefully, wiping it dry on the sheets he always changed for you afterwards and cupping your face while you came down.

“You did so good baby, so so good” he kissed your forehead gently, rubbing your hair and caressing your back with loving strokes. When you were finally coherent enough once again, although you were exhausted - you realized Carmy was still rock hard, pitching a full tent in his boxers that were wet with pre as he coaxed you through your orgasm.

“That’s gotta hurt” you told pull the fabric, causing his cock to come down with it and when you release it it springs back up to full standing causing you to giggle a bit

“Mm does but m’back. I can’t go t’night babe. I was gonna go take care of it in the shower don’worry” he yawned, rubbing over his face you furrowed your brow, slightly offended.

“What? Is my pussy not good enough?” You teased

He looked at you quickly “wha- no - I mean- I mean yes? No- no your pussy is good your pussy is- is perfect I fuckin’ love y’pussy but I can’t go tonight baby my back fuckin’ hurts” he explained

“I can ride you you know” you said and his big blue eyes widened a bit. You’d been together for 6- no 7 months, and it was true you’d never ridden him, not yet anyway.

Carmen was a missionary man, not in the boring way, in the way that he’d get home from work and fuck your brains out while going on and on about his frustrations from the day.

People wouldn’t usually call it dirty talk, but something it turned you on more then anything that between calling you perfect and beautiful and made for him that he was just casually going on about his shitty day like his balls weren’t essentially spanking your ass with how hard he needed it.

“Uh- oh-o-okay. Yeah. Sure- I. Mmhmm” he said and fixed his pillow, adjusting his hips for you “hop on I guess” he said shyly and you laughed at his sudden switch in attitude.

“Have you never been ridden you poor thing?” You asked and his cheeks went cherry red as well as the tips of his ears and bridge of his nose as you straddled him easily, resting your hands on his abs for leverage.

“No.” He muttered. “I- I just…I dunno it never..came up” he swallowed thickly, averting your gaze nervously.

“Hey.” You said “eyes” you told him and his eyes met yours immediately, “I’m honored to be the first person, yeah? I’ve told you a billion times bear - I love you. I love being able to show you new ways to feel good, it makes me so excited” you held his hips gently and he wrapped his hands around your wrists, needing to be touching you somehow.

“It just…it doesn’t make me seem like…like a bitch does it?” He mumbled shyly, insecurity lacing his voice. You tucked your hands under his warm back, laying yourself over him fully, embracing him and resting your forehead on his.

“You know how I feel about that word, and no it doesn’t make you seem less manly baby. If anything, it’s super sexy and it’s so sweet that you felt brave enough to tell me. Thank you for telling me. I’ve heard for the guy it feels really good cause all you gotta do is lay there, you wanna try sweetheart?” You ask softly, kissing the bridge of his nose gently and a small smile forming on your lips when you tasted yourself on your lips upon pulling away.

“Yes please” he said softly, eyes fluttered shut as you cover his face in little butterfly kisses.

“That’s my brave bear” you place a kiss to the base of his throat and he smiles a bit, cheeks going redder by the second. It was adorable how shy he got when you showed him affection like this, you knew he adored it more then anything - but he’d never be brave enough to ask for it - at least not yet.

You sit up, “can I touch you baby?” You confirm, rubbing your hands down his stomach and his abs tighten at the contact. In response he nods, swallowing thickly and goosebumps rising over his skin. His cock twitches as you grab the waistband of his boxers “so sweet and responsive” you said softly, tugging them down easily as he lifted his hips for you slightly.

“Jesus” you mutter at the sight of it, the tip weeping and pink crying to be touched. “Poor thing, you’ve been neglected- has Carmy been abusing you in the shower huh?” You said in the direction of his cock with a playful voice of concern.

“Jesus fuckin Christ-“ he chuckled, covering his face with his arm a big goofy smile on his face. “You are gonna kill me”

You smiled big, leaning down and licking a stripe up his length and he whimpers softly, abs and stomach clenching at the contact, a large bead of pre gushing from his slit that you catch with your tongue. He shivers adorably, groaning at the feeling of you licking over his sensitive tip. “If y’keep fuckin doin’ that ‘m gonna cum” he breathes, the vein in his neck present seeing as he was holding himself back, his balls drawing up and releasing in a rhythm.

“Jesus baby i dunno if you’ll last that long we’ll have to do this again so you can get the full experience mm?” You grab his shaft, lining you two up and slipping it through your soaked folds, he let out a breathy moan, back arching slightly and you let out a sweet ‘mmm’ when his tip bumps your clit.

“Please please please can I be inside you please” he begged pathetically, voice whiny and shaking - he was going to be coming undone very soon you could tell, which is why he was desperate to be inside of you before he was too soft to do so.

“I dunno can I see those pretty eyes?” You asked, he was still hiding behind his arm, likely still feeling embarrassed this was his first time but you weren’t going to allow that. He shyly removed his arm, looking up at you and swallowing nervously.

“H-hey” he said softly and you smile softly

“There’s my bear” you leaned in, kissing him lovingly as you sink down on him fully, his jaw goes slack so you settle for kissing his chin and cheeks and nose “Feel good?” You giggle into his skin and he lets out a pathetic little ‘uh-huh’

“H-holy oh god” he groaned when you simply roll your hips, getting yourself off with the friction of the curly patch of brunette curls at the base of his cock. You sat up, using his chest as leverage to find a good rhythm bouncing on him and he nearly growls, a sound you’d never heard him make.

“Ooo am I releasing the bear?” You teased and he chuckled a bit

“Shut up- fuck Jesus oh god” his head falls back on the pillow “i-i-shit” he rambled and you giggle a bit, causing him to whine at the feeling of your walls clenching around him as you continued to ride his cock with all the tricks you could remember.

“I don’t think I’ve ever fucked you so quiet before” you tease, sure your hips and thighs were burning from how quick you’d built up to moving, but his eyes were practically rolling back and the whimpers you were drawing out of him were nothing short of heavenly. He was shaking for Christ sakes. “Are you gonna cum? Mm? Y’gonna fill me up baby?” You asked him, rubbing his chest gently

He finally opened his eyes, looking up at you with those big blue eyes, blown out fully with lust, pants falling from his lips and his dirty blonde curls stuck to his forehead with sweat. “Mm-mmhmm” he moaned out, grabbing your hips to have something to hold and the action making him realize he could help you move. His jaw dropped slightly at the realization and he looked up at you for approval.

You smiled and nod a bit “you can help honey- that’s really nice of you” you said and he helped push and pull you off his cock, he looked down, mesmerized by the view of his cock burying inside of you, he pushed you down with more force and you moaned, “just like that baby, you want it harder huh?” You ask and he nods quickly so you rolled your hips a bit harder.

He bit his lip, nose scrunching up cutely. He was holding back. “Bear- I know it feels good but you can cum, you need to sleep” you cup his cheek gently and he looked up at you like a sad puppy

“It feels s’good baby” he whined and you nod, stroking his cheek gently.

“I know honey. We can do it again t’morrow night yeah?” You kiss his forehead and with that he releases into you with something resembling a cry covered with a grunt, of course he had to cover it. He pulled you into a deep messy kiss, wrapping his arms around your back, rubbing gently and reaching down to squeeze your ass, feeling cum dripping out of you down over his balls. He smiled a bit, pulling away to ask “Mmm can we sleep like this?”

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backtothefanfiction · 1 year ago

Text

Professor Peter Parker

Summary: The first day of college nerves are suddenly made worse when you realised the guy you f*cked last night is your new Physics Professor!

Warnings! 18+ ONLY! This is some of the filthiest smut I have ever written and posted on here yet. Female reader and pronouns, Age gap (everyone is of legal age, Peter is a very young Professor), Oral (F + M Receiving), Dirty Talk (so much fucking dirty talk), praise kink, edging, P in V, Peter Parker (YES he does need his own warning), One Night Stand... or is it?, ITS SEX PEOPLE, JUST STRAIGHT UP SEX WITH A LITTLE PLOT FOR ADDED TENSION AND POW!

Word Count: 4.9k+

A/N: Consider this my formal application piece for the literary prostitutes society. There are no words for this, so I'm just gonna type/sing Don't Lose Your Head from Six. "Sorry not sorry but what I said, I'm just tryin' to have some fun..." But seriously though this was so self indulgent and I can't believe this came out of me. It's very much giving Aria and Ezra in Pretty Little Liars but older and much more Peter Parker. Also I am really sorry about if the tense keeps changing, I sometimes have a problem with finding my rhythm and I really cba to spend the time working it all out and changing it.

First day of college. Standard level of nerves for a first day. Are you running on just a couple hours of sleep? Sure. Still a little tipsy from last night? Okay, yeah, maybe just a little, but that’s a good thing right. Takes the edge off. But then again numbers and science had never let you down before. You can do physics. You’ve got this.

You took a deep breath, hand hesitating on the door handle. ‘This is the first day of the rest of your life.’ You said to yourself, breathing deeply.

You found a spot somewhere in the middle of the room. Not so eager you were at the front but you also didn’t want to hide away in the back. That and you were pretty sure you were due for an eye test and if you sat any further back you wouldn’t be able to read the board. You got out your notepad, flipping open to the first page, your fingers smoothing across the fresh paper comfortingly. You reach for a fresh pencil from the novelty pack your Mom had bought you especially for your first week, knowing you prefer the feel of writing in pencil than pen, the ink always getting smudged on your hand from your messy scrawl. You pluck the one with tiny zebra all over it from the clear case before placing it back in your bag. Your fingers drum the back of the pencil on your page nervously as you wait. You tried not to overthink things as your stomach began to churn. Had you really turned up this early? You took a quick look around the room at the other 5 people who had actually been there before you. ‘Hey,’ you reasoned to yourself, ‘at least you weren’t as early as them.’

You yawned. Damn you were tired. Although you had this early class, when your new room mate suggested you go out with the guys who lived across the hall you couldn’t say no. To be fair, it had been a good night all considered. You had met some new people, exchanged a few numbers, agreed to go to the end of semester drama club performance even though the term had only just started, drank way too many jello shots, got snuck into a local bar and then ended up going home with a tall brunette with the softest yet devious brown eyes you had ever seen who completely rocked your world.

You absentmindedly rubbed your thighs together, squirming slightly in your seat as you thought back to his head between your legs. The lewd moans he’d pulled from your lips echoing around your brain. It sent a fresh new wave of arousal straight to your core.

‘Not the time or place.’ you berated, instead forcing your mind back into the classroom and the task at hand. ‘Physics of Matter with Professor Peter Parker. He was probably middle aged’ you thought to yourself. It was always the case with classes like these, middle aged men finally leaving the lab for the first time after finally completing their life's work, now relenting to their wife’s begging to spend more time with the family. Or older men with white hair, wrinkles and tweed, desperately holding on to their independence, understimulated by the idea of retired life when all that knowledge of matter and the universe was rattling around their brains. ‘Young hot professors were only to be found in the movies or on TV’ you daydreamed as you tried to distract yourself from the growing pit of nerves in your stomach.

You check your phone every few seconds as other students file into the room, finding their own seats as you count down the minutes. 5 minutes… 3 minutes… 2 minutes… 1 minute… … He’s late… 1 minute past… 2 minutes past… 3 min-

“Okay, okay, settle down!” A voice called out as the classroom door opened, far younger than she expected and slightly familiar. “Welcome to Physics of Matter,” the voice continued as he made his way towards the board, picking up a bit of chalk and lifting it to the board as he spoke, “I am Professor Parker, but please,” he said dropping the piece of chalk back onto the little shelf at the bottom of the board, “call me Peter.” He said finally turning around.

SHIT!

DOUBLE SHIT!

You dip your head towards your page as you sink a little bit down in your seat. Hopefully he won’t notice. ‘FUCK!’ your head was suddenly screaming as all those memories of the night before flooded your brain again. His messy hair. His naked body. The way he had moaned into your cunt- FUCK!

You subtly glanced around the room from your head's dipped position. This had to be some new prank show right. There’s no way this happened in real life. There had to be cameras. He’s an actor right? Ashton Kutcher was about to burst through the classroom door shouting “YOU’VE BEEN PUNK’D” any second followed by the actual Professor Parker, right? Right?

“Now I’m not gonna ask you to get your books out this lesson,” he began to say playfully, his voice carrying around the room as he walked back and forth in front of his desk surveying his new class. “Today is about you getting to know me and me just going over all the things we are gonna be covering over the course of our year together.” He said, talking a lot with his hands. “As much as I’d love to start getting into equations with you, I’ve learnt that that tends to be futile during our first lessons. I mean, just by a show of hands, who went out drinking last night?” Professor Parker asked and a shower of hands across the room went up, Peter’s gaze scanning across the faces of the raised hands as he continued, “Keep your hand up if you’re still a little bit drunk-” his voice cut off as his eyes finally landed on you, his own oh shit face befalling him.

You felt your skin crawl as people lowered their hands and began following his gaze to you. You moved your hand up to your face as you sank down in your seat further. ��Stop staring. Stop staring. Stop staring!’

8 HOURS EARLIER

“I couldn’t help but see you staring.” He said as he sidled up to you. ‘Holy fuck’ he was gorgeous. Tall, lean, perfectly messy brown hair and the most delicious biceps (not too big) that were flexing under the cuffs of his fitted T-shirt you really just wanted to wrap your fingers around and squeeze. Damn. “Is she okay?” He said turning to your friend.

“Yeah she’s just-“ your roommate started before nudging you and breaking you from your hypnotised gaze on this absolute Adonis of a man. “She thinks you’re really hot!” she shouted over the music to him.”

He raised his eyebrows as he gave a small chuckle, flattered, as you cringed. They both laughed at you. “Do you wanna dance?” he asked as he took your hand.

“Yes, she does!” your friend said, pushing you off your stool. His other hand comes out to steady you as you almost slam into his chest. You blush before turning to give your roommate a death stare.

He flashed one of those charming smiles again before he began to guide you away from her and to the dance floor. His hand doesn’t leave yours as he starts to bop and bounce, easing you both into the music. You slowly relax, smiling as a giddy feeling churns in your stomach, as you begin to bop with him to the music.

The music swells and he gives you a twirl under his arm before he pulls you closer to him. “So have you got a name or am I supposed to refer to you as flower for the rest of the night?”

You frown. “Why Flower?”

“Isn’t that the name of the skunk in Bambi who is all quiet and has those big eyes and blushing cheeks and-”

“Don’t call me Flower.” you quickly say, slightly embarrassed by the way you had gone all goo goo eyed and helpless over him.

“Okay, then what can I call you?”

You hesitate for a second as you think about giving him your real name but what would be the fun in that, especially if this only turned out to be a one night stand. “Trouble.”

He laughs, his head dipping to hide his amusement. “Is that so?” he says from beneath his lashes. “Fine, if that’s how we’re playing it, you can call me Professor Brat Tamer, Professor for short.”

You feel your arousal soak your panties the moment he says it, the words going straight to your core. What have you gotten yourself in for? It’s like he knows too from the way he’s smirking. He turns you, pulling you back into him, his hands resting on your hips as he begins to grind himself against your ass. “Now, are you gonna be a good student?” he coos against your ear only loud enough for you to hear. “Or are you gonna be like your namesake says and cause me a whole lot of trouble?”

He can feel the way you relax your body back against him, your eyes closing as you relish in the feeling his words elicit in you.

You smirk as you look back at him, “I’m sorry Professor, but you may have your work cut out for you.”

An hour and a half later he’s pulling you into his apartment, your back slamming hard against a wall of exposed brick as your mouth latches onto his. Both of you had done so well keeping your hands to yourself the whole way back, but the moment you got through the door it was like a starting pistol had gone off, both of you suddenly in a race for pleasure.

You moan against his mouth as his tongue slips between your teeth. You can taste his final Jack and Coke he had had before you left. Your skin felt like it was burning under his touch.

“Fuck.” You gasp as his mouth is suddenly moving across your jaw and down your neck, his teeth and stubble grazing you slightly in his hunger for you.

“God Trouble, you sound so fucking pretty.” he coos against your chest, his hand moving to paw at your breast, bunching it up to spill over the top of your dress as he leaves wet kisses across the skin.

Your fingers wrap around his messy tresses as you pull his head back up so you can connect your mouth with his again, a small growl escaping his lips at the slight pain. You kiss him messily, both of you breathing heavily before you push him back, allowing you room to drop to your knees on the hardwood floor. Your fingers immediately begin to fight with his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking sending arousal straight between your own legs.

“Fuck.” He pants as he looks down at you, his hand reaching to cradle either side of your face as you pull down his jeans and his boxers in one swift pull. “Uh, baby, baby, baby.” he coos as you take his length into your mouth and immediately begin to work your tongue up and down his cock.

His fingers move away from your face, grabbing at the hem of his t-shirt and you watch as he pulls it up and over his head, exposing the rest of his body to you. Fuck he really was gorgeous. “Oh my god.” he cried out when you began to swallow his length down your throat, your nose pressing to his pelvic bone. “Uh,” he said, his head tipping back, “she’s not trouble, she’s fucking perfect.” he says as he drops his head back forward to watch you, his thumb reaching to wipe away a stray tear at the corner of your eye.

You take his length out of your mouth as you gasp for air and he thinks it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. “Come here Trouble.” he says as he takes your face and chin in his hands and lifts you from the floor, pulling your lips back to his as he smashes his mouth into yours.

He begins to kick off his shoes as well as his jeans and boxers that now sit tangled around his ankles as he continues to kiss you, freeing himself so he can lift you up into his arms, your own arms throwing themselves around his neck, as he carries you to his bedroom.

You can’t help but cheekily bite at his lower lip as he stops just before the foot of the bed. “Oh she has some bite does she?” he says against your mouth. Your teeth almost clash together from how close you are as you grin, waiting to see what he’ll do or say next. “Okay,” he says as he pauses a little for dramatic effect, “I can bite back.” he says before throwing you back on the bed.

You let out a small squeal as you're caught by the mattress springs and pillows. You quickly prop yourself up on your elbows so you can see the devilish look on his face as he pulls off your heels before he stalks up the bed towards you. He leans over you, attaching his lips to yours once more, his tongue sliding deftly into your mouth and out again with every kiss until his last, when he uses it to suck your lower lip between his teeth, pulling on it. He releases it just as you’re beginning to feel it bruise, his lips instead attaching to your throat as his hands come up to pull down the top of your dress. He had already clocked that you were sans bra from how low the back of your dress was and is even more grateful now he can immediately latch himself onto your nipples, his tongue lapping at the small sensitive nibs, one and then the other.

You moan under his touch, your eyes falling closed as your head tips back, fingers gripping tightly at the covers beneath you. When he looks up at you, keening under his touch, he thinks it's the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Look at me baby.” he softly commands and you oblige, your chin pressing to your chest as you gaze straight into those big brown eyes. It’s the sexiest eye contact you’ve ever held. It’s like he’s fucking you with his eyes as his fingers begin to snake their way up your thighs, lifting the bottom of your dress up to your hips so he can pull down your underwear. He takes one feel of them before saying, “Fuck, trouble, these are soaked.”

You can only nod in agreement, as all words seem to have left your brain. ‘Fuck, he’s so fucking hot’ you think, as he kisses his way down your middle, over your dress until he reaches the hem where he can start kissing at your skin. You sigh, your head falling back again at the sensation of his lips kissing across your hips and then down your thighs.

His fingers spread your legs and he gives a small nip to the inside of your thigh and you gasp at the small feeling of pain, that quickly turns to pleasure, as yet another wave of arousal floods between your legs.

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping.” he says as his finger scoops up the arousal thats begining to drip down your thighs, bringing it up to his mouth. You watch hypnotised as he sucks on his fingers. “Damn, trouble, you tast so fucking good.” he says as he slips his fingers from his mouth. It’s so filthy. He has barely done anything and you’re a fucking goner.

His tongue suddenly crashes between your folds. “FUCK!” you cry out loudly. His fingers trace over your thighs, reaching for your own fingers which you entwine with his. He’s got his eyes closed, savouring every moan, every little gasp he pulls from you.

He can tell you’re getting close from how your cunt begins to grind itself down against his tongue, chasing you’re high, but to allow you to have it would be too easy. He listens closely to your breathing, your moans; one… two… he suddenly moves his mouth away and you want to scream. He playfully nips at the inside of your thigh, almost hard enough to bruise. You really do scream now in frustration. “Told you I could bite.” he says coily as he mumbles against your skin.

He licks another stripe through your folds as if in apology, as if to soothe the sting but his tongue flicks at your sensitive clit before he sucks it hard between his lips and you cry out again. “Mmmm.” he hums against your cunt, “you sound so pretty when you scream like that.”

You want to cry, you are so sensitive and overstimulated but suddenly he’s lapping at your pussy again and you’re melting back into the bed as your muscles begin to relax again with the long slow licks of his tongue.

When you both begin to feel the build of your climax again he doesn’t pull away this time. He lets you have it, your thighs closing around his head, hips bucking off the bed as the wave of pleasure crashes over you. He keeps going, his mouth lapping up everything you’ll give him until you're pulling yourself away from him. Tears well in the corners of your eyes from the over stimulation as you pant and whine and rub your thighs together, desperate for the feeling to dissipate. He grabs at your ankles, holding you still as you flop back into the pillows at the top of the bed.

“So good for me Trouble, you’re doing so good.” he says as he crawls up the bed to kiss you.

Although he’s wiped at his mouth, the taste of you still remains and you lick it off every part of his mouth you can reach as he settles himself between your legs.

His hands slide up your thighs before they’re grabbing ahold of your waist and suddenly he’s flipping you, his head crashing into the pillows as you straddle his hips. Your lips race to chase his as you continue to pant breathlessly into his mouth, another flood of arousal soaking between your legs.

His fingers reach for the bottom of your dress, lifting it up and off your head, leaving you finally, completely naked before him. “Fuck, trouble,” he moans as his eyes drink you in, “has anyone told you how absolutely fucking perfect you are.” You giggle and blush as you lean down to kiss him. “No. No. Look at me.” he says as he takes your head in his hands and moves you away from him so you have to look at him. He’s giving you that look with his eyes again as he holds your face in place, not allowing you to break eye contact with him for one single moment as he begins to grind his hips up against you, his rock hard cock grinding against your clit. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp. “So fucking perfect.” he repeats. “Now tell me, trouble, how do you want me to fuck you?” You can’t think, your eyes closing as you try to focus your thoughts as his skin drags across your clit teasingly. He gently taps your cheek with his fingers, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him. “Eyes on me Trouble,” he says, “find your words, tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

You shake your head as you close your eyes again, really unable to think. “Options.” you say breathlessly, your eyes flying open, before he can punish you for breaking eye contact again. “Give me options.”

“Okay.” he concedes with a small nod and a smile. “Okay, pretty girl.” he repeats again soothingly as he pulls you back down closer to him, his lips kissing you sweetly and encouragingly, aware he’s over stimulating your brain. “I can fuck you like this.” he says as he looks into your eyes. His hand slowly trails down to wrap around your throat, his other hand still cradling the back of your head as he flips you again. “Or I can fuck you like this.” he says as he continues to slowly grind himself against your sex. “Or,” he says as he lowers his head down to the crook of your neck, breathing you in deeply as he speaks directly into your ear, “I can flip you over and fuck you from behind.” You sigh as his words go straight to your core again.

“The last one.” you say breathlessly as your eyes close.

“MMM.” he hums into your ear as his teeth nip at your jaw, satisfied with your response. He pushes you back into the bed slightly as he lifts himself onto his knees, his hands moving away from your face and you watch him eagerly as you await his next move. He leans over to the bedside table, reaching into the draw for a condom, lazily tugging at his length with one hand whilst he uses his teeth and the other hand to open it up. You’re almost starring as he’s rolling it down the length of his cock, fully taking in his erect size. He smirks when he looks up to notice you nibbling at your lower lip.

“Come here, trouble.” he says before he’s flipping you over, your head finding a comfortable position on the pillow as he lifts your ass into the air.

He slides his fingers down your opening before placing two fingers slowly inside you, stretching you out and you let out another breathy moan at the feeling. He pumps them in and out of you a couple more times before he slowly lets them slide out of you, his fingertips dragging agonisingly across your clit before he uses them to pump his cock again a couple times, shifting himself into position.

His fingers grip tightly onto your hips as he lines himself up and slowly pushes himself inside you, your back arching with the stretch, head shifting as you let out another moan of satisfaction into the pillow. “Mmm, let me hear you baby.” he says as his hand removes itself from your hip to reach for the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he turns your head back towards him.

“Fuck.” you hiccup as he pulls himself out little by little before he’s slamming his hips forward against your ass, pushing himself in even deeper.

“Fuck, trouble. So fucking tight for me.”

You lose all ability to speak as he begins fucking into you, slowly building his pace until he’s fucking into you at a wicked speed. You want to scream again, your face screwing up in ecstasy as his cock continuously hits that spot inside you that makes you want to explode. His other hand reaches around for your throat, pulling you back up as he leans over you so he can stick his tongue back into your mouth. It adjusts his angle somehow, making the feeling in your cunt even more intense. Your mouth falls open as he holds it there, you’re panting and moaning into his mouth. “Look at me.” he encourages as his thumb rubs soothingly across your jaw. You can’t help but obliged.

It’s too much. It’s the hottest, most filthiest sex you’ve ever had. You know you’ll never be the same again. Nothing, no one, will ever compare to this. “Please, please, please.” you find yourself repeating as your eyes close again. You’re so close and he knows it because your cunt is constricting like a vice around his cock.

He moves his hand down to circle at your clit between your legs. “Come on, trouble, give it to me,” he coaches, “Fuck, baby!” he snarls against your mouth as he smashes his lips to yours again, pulling at your lips bruisingly.

You pull your mouth away from him, wailing, gasping for breath as your body convulses around him, his pace only slowing slightly to help you ride out your climax. “So good.” he coos, “My trouble, so fucking good for me. Atta girl.”

His pace is steady as he feels you begin to relax again but you’re still so stimulated. You’re surprised he’s still going. “Your turn.” you say to him breathlessly and he smiles. When he doesn’t say anything you decide to push your luck. “How do you want to fuck me?” you coo, now you’re the one who’s eye fucking him.

You watch as he closes his eyes, head falling back. He chuckles then, something low and devious. He suddenly pulls out of you. It makes you feel so empty. You’re about to whine but then he’s flipping you over and pulling your legs together and then over his shoulder as he bends you in half. He lines himself back up with your entrance and slips back in with ease and you gasp as he bottoms out, the position making him hit that devastating spot inside you instantly. He leans all the way over so he can kiss you, his mouth swallowing every moan, gasp and breath that leaves your mouth as he pounds down into you like something fierce.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” you whine as the sensitivity grows too much. His pelvis is slamming against your clit with every thrust. Now you really are crying, your eyes rolling back in your head as you feel yourself clamping down on his cock again.

“Oh my god, baby.” he says. “You’re so fucking wet. So fucking good. Such a good fucking girl.”

It’s a guttural wail you let loose into the room as you cum and his head dips down as he buries himself in the crook of your neck, his thrusts growing even faster as he chases his high. “Stay with me, Trouble,” he says, trying to ground you. He lifts his head, hand reaching for your face, forcing you to look at him. “Just a little bit longer, baby, just a little bit-” but he can’t finish his words. He’s so fucking close. One pump, two- he suddenly stills as he buries himself inside you, his forehead pressing into yours grounding you both as he pumps his seed into the condom inside you. You whine at the feeling of his cock pulsating against the still extremely sensitive spot inside you.

“You did so good.” His voice reassures as he strokes soothingly across your cheek forcing you to look at him as you breathe deeply and heavily in your come down. “So fucking good.” he says as he kisses your forehead before slipping out of you.

With his body no longer crowding you you fully relax back into his sheets, your eyes closing as you try to regulate. You think you might even pass out. You think you may even have blacked out for a second, but you know you haven’t as your eyes fly open and your body jumps at the feeling of a cool damp cloth between your legs.

He watches you content as you suddenly relax once more, the cool washcloth doing wonders to soothe the hot swollen feeling between your legs as he cleans you up. You definitely black out then, completely exhausted.

You are disturbed again a few minutes later, a soft reassuring hand brushing up your legs. “Here.” his voice says softly as he sits on the side of the bed next to you, waiting for you to open your eyes and look at him so he can pass you a glass of water.

The cold liquid does wonders to help regulate your temperature and you can’t help but stare at him again in wonder as he sits before you in a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms. He leans over you, kissing the top of your head, breaking you from your sex induced stupor.

“You can stay if you want.” You nod your head, you have no energy to move yet.

“Okay.” he says with a soft smile as he takes the now mostly empty glass from your fingers. “I’m gonna go get you another one of these,” he says motioning to the glass now in his hands, “you go to the toilet, there’s a spare toothbrush under the sink, get yourself ready for bed and when you get back we can cuddle.”

You still have no words, just dociley nod and agree. You wobble slightly as you try to stand, blood rushing back to your limbs and his hand reaches out to steady you. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it.” You say as you sway slightly and wave him away.

He just chuckles. “Whatever you say, trouble.”

You crawl into bed beside him 5 minutes later, tucking yourself into his side as his arm wraps around you. “You really are Professor Brat Tamer huh?” you joke as you nestle into his bare chest.

“And don’t you know it.” he smiles, pulling you tighter into his side so he can place a kiss to the top of your head.

You wake just after 6am, sneaking from his bed with a smile on your face as you pick up your clothes before doing the walk of shame back to your student halls. The sun is just coming up and the leaves are just starting to change, you can still feel the alcohol in your system as well as the after effects of your orgasms and you know, although you’re tired, today is gonna be a great first day… or was it?

________________________-

@tarzinnia @withahappyrefrain @xenasolos @sincericida

Is this a one off? I don't know. Is there a lot of room for this to turn into a collection of shorts... yeah, maybe.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #andrew!peter parker #professor!Peter Parker x reader #andrew!peter x reader #Andrew Peter imagine #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker #Peter Parker smut #professor!au #spiderman #tasm peter parker imagine #tasm!peter #andrew garfield peter parker #reader insert #smut #this is so self indulgent #Peter Parker x female reader

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amourtoken · 6 months ago

Text

so I literally cannot stop thinking abt this here u go

god kink Noah and softie Christian reader

I already know I'm going to hell so no need to remind me ik this is filth but that's what's fun abt it also basing the looks of the building off of this big ass church I used to go to and it's very weird and industrial so apologies if it's confusing

*NSFW below the cut, MDNI*

cw: sacrilege lmao, degradation, raw sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, Noah kinda thinks he's better than everyone else, maybe bc he thinks he's God idk, corruption, loss of virginity, experienced Noah, dirty talk, slightly public, belly bulge, dacryphilia

♡ Noah's only at church cause he has to be, otherwise why the fuck would he waste his morning here. He sits through the awful music and wonders how all of these people live such a lie, its pathetic to him. The only thing that makes it bearable is the pretty little thing in the little white sundress that never fails to show up every Sunday.

♡ he thinks you're so cute. Brainwashed, but cute. All he ever thinks abt is how he could desecrate you and how you'd look so much prettier worshipping him.

♡ Noah is damn near your exact opposite, covered in tattoos, always wearing dark colors. He never really talks to anyone either, keeping to himself. You'd say he was miserable if you didn't see his face soften a little every time you catch his eye. You try to make a point and interact with him every chance you get, maybe he's lonely? You can't let that happen. He's the worship leader's son, you'd think he'd be having a better time but who knows what's going through his head.

♡ Noah almost feels bad that he can't keep his thoughts in order when you walk up to him, pretty smile plastered on your face. You're chattering about today's service and he's picturing his hands on your hips, fingers digging into the soft skin while he bucks up into you and gets to hear those pretty little noises he's sure you'd make. All he'd have to do is pull your dress up too, it'd be easy. He's nodding along with your conversation and trying to seem interested but it's getting harder and harder to pretend he's listening.

♡ his eyes drifting to the neckline of your dress which is pretty modest but God he'd be able to pull it down so easy, tease your nipples while you grind yourself on his thigh and whine for him to fill you up. His eyes snap back to your face which is etched with concern.

"Noah, are you feeling alright? You seem out of it."

♡ he could lie, but what's the point. Isn't lying a sin?

"I'm fine. Just thinking about how pretty you'd look split on my cock."

♡ did he really say that??? You weren't sure how to even respond. Or if you should at all. You were flushed down to your chest and Noah admired the pretty pink tinge to your skin. He was almost nervous he'd fucked up but he knew what to say to have you following him like a little sheep. If you can sit through service every week and genuinely believe the shit his father is saying, you'll do anything if it's said in the right tone.

"Bet you've never even fucked before, have you? Saving yourself for marriage and all that bullshit. You know I could make you feel good, you should let me show you."

♡ you're still stunned, standing like a little deer in some headlights. You'd be lying if you said you didn't find Noah attractive but you felt like he wasn't in the cards for you. He's everything you're not, but maybe that's what's so enticing about him. How he talked about your beliefs stung a little but you couldn't help the way your thighs pressed together at the thought of him and his suggestion. He'd never hurt you, right? You can trust him, why would he wrong you?

♡ Noah nodded toward one of the exit doors, turning to leave and hoping you'd follow. You nearly tripped over your own feet trying to catch up with him. Your brain felt fuzzy and you knew whatever he was gonna put you through was horrifically sinful but you can be forgiven for being curious, right? Noah locked the door behind you, leaving you both in an empty stairwell. Hopefully no one tried to interrupt the two of you, because Noah was immediately to work. He walked you backwards until your back was pressed to the concrete wall and he tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling until you whimpered and keened against his hand for some relief.

"The only fucking God in this building is me. I expect you to treat me like such."

"You answer to me, and you follow my fucking directions, yeah? Gonna be a good girl and do what I say?"

♡ you felt your heart race terribly in your chest from how close he was, you felt like a prey animal being stalked by a predator. You really didn't know what to expect, you've never done this before. You shouldn't be doing this at all...what have you gotten yourself into...

♡ Noah surprisingly sinks to his knees in front of you, hands brushing at your knees and sliding up your thighs, hiking up your dress as he goes. His long fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties to tug them down and he threw one of your legs over his shoulder, without warning burying his face in your pussy making you yelp and tangle your fingers in his hair for some balance.

(Something like this yk)

♡ you pulled his hair tightly between your fingers, whining while he lapped at your pussy and groaned against you when you pulled a little too hard. You felt pricks of pins and needles all over your body, it felt like a swarm of butterflies populated your lower stomach. Oh god...one of his hands steadied itself on your thigh but the other slid up to glide between your folds, gathering the slick mess before prodding at your entrance making you squirm. He was right, you hadn't done this before. He wanted you to enjoy yourself though, that's why he was taking the time to stretch you out and make you cum, so you could actually take his cock afterwards.

♡ the fingers at your entrance slid in slowly, stretching you out and scissoring slightly to spread you further. Your legs were shaking and the swarm in your belly felt 100x worse. You were worried you couldn't hold yourself up much longer...Noah pressed his fingers as deep as he could fit them, brushing your cervix and curving up to press right into the most sensitive spot he could. He laughed against your pussy when he felt you clench around his fingers, teeth brushing your clit and making you whimper pathetically above him. He was the one on his knees and you were unraveling. Pitiful.

"You gonna cum for me? Can't let you take this cock till you cum, won't fit."

♡ when he nudges a 3rd finger in you completely come undone, tugging his face closer to you and nearly crying while you grind into him through your orgasm. He speeds his fingers up inside of you until you're squirming and begging him to stop. He withdraws and stands back up, reminding you he towers over you at his full height and he licks your slick off of his fingers right in front of you. You're still panting and your legs feel shaky, this isn't helping.

♡ Noah thinks you look adorable so shaken up, he can't help but admire how your chest is rising so quickly and your face is flushed. He did that to you. He's gonna do so much more too. He backs you into the wall again and runs his hands down your thighs, picking you up and pressing your back into the wall for extra support while your legs wrapped around his waist. You threw your arms around his neck to steady yourself but he wasn't gonna drop you, he could hold you up for hours if he needed to. Again though, he thinks you're adorable and lets you think he could drop you just to get your heart racing again.

♡ he holds you up with one arm while freeing his achingly hard cock with the other. You didn't even really get a chance to see it, but when he drug the tip through the slick mess between your legs you could describe the feeling as dread. He felt huge. Noah leaned his head against your neck, pressing soft kisses up to your ear and nipping at the soft skin.

"Gotta relax for me, promise I'll make you feel so good...trust me"

"Can't wait to feel how tight this pussy is, can't believe I'm your first. Bet I'll be the last too."

"Gonna fucking ruin you for everyone else, gonna be mine forever, yeah?"

"So much for staying pure, hm? All it took was one little comment and here you are letting me fuck you raw in a stairwell. Wonder how your god feels about that."

♡ he'd planned on taking it slow but after sinking in just a few inches he couldn't help himself. He trusted up into you, hilting himself in one move and sank his teeth deep into your shoulder to try and muffle the groan that escaped his chest. He slapped a hand over your mouth as he sank in and thank God he did because the sound you made was nothing short of a scream. Big tears welled in your eyes even after all the work he did to prep you, the stretch of taking his cock felt almost too much. Noah was loving every moment, watching you fall apart for him. He pressed a large hand to your stomach as he started fucking himself into you just to feel how deep he fit in your poor body.

"O-oh god-"

"The only fucking god you should be praying to is me."

♡ your whimpers and moans were nonstop but thankfully muffled against his palm, he didn't want anyone interrupting you. You gripped his cock just fucking right and he doubted he could really last long but he needed to have you unravel on his dick before he could finish. Noah reached up and tugged the front of your dress down, leaning to absolutely cover your chest in hickeys and lick at your overly sensitive nipples, your whines pitched up when his teeth got a little too rough but he couldn't help but admire his work. Your pretty soft skin marred with teeth marks and bruises. There's no way you could walk back out there and have no one notice, everyone would know exactly what you did, and who you did it with. Perfect.

"bet you've been thinking about this just as much as I have, huh bunny? Needed to get fucked, needed to get filled up by some fat cock, yeah? Tell me."

"Your little god was keeping you from this, does he really feel better than me? Wanna hear you say it."

"Gonna cum again for me, bunny? Need to feel you squeeze this cock, you can do it. I got you."

♡ your head fell back against the hard wall as he fucked into you, the coil in your stomach tightened unbearably. Every thrust sank as deep as he could possibly get and made your legs shake in his hold. Noah was chasing your pleasure as much as his own, he loved seeing your pretty little pathetic expressions. He slid a hand between your bodies and barely even had a chance to brush your clit as you came. His arm around you tightened to keep you still as he fucked you through it, tears spilling from your eyes and ruining your pretty makeup.

"S-shit- that's it- good girl, feels good yeah? So good for me-"

"That's it, tell me who's making you feel this good baby say my fuckin' name- n-need to hear it"

♡ his thrusts picked up in intensity, fingers sinking into your hips hard enough to leave Bruises and he sank in impossibly deep as he shuddered through his own end, you whined at the feeling of his hot cum filling you up and the extra dripping out of you making a mess on the floor under you. It took a second for Noah to set you back down on shaky legs, he helped you straighten your dress back out before pulling you in for an uncharacteristically gentle kiss. He felt like he was a little harsh on you but he was happy you actually would do something like this with him finally.

"So pretty...we should do this again sometime, yeah?"

#Nowah #HNgg #noah sebastian smut

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imrllytootiredforthis · 1 year ago

Note

HIII

Could you please make a sub felix and femdom reader kinda similar to the club one (I hope Ik which one I mean😭) but with the members reaction at the end?

Like for example if y/n and felix fucked in his dorm but the others members heard it all??🤭🤭 and write like their reactions and stuff?💙

Please🫣

Needy Baby

pairing: felix x reader

summary: he doesn't know how you do it, doesn't know how you've managed to have such an effect on him but it makes him wanna do horrible, horrible things. or better yet, let you do horrible, horrible things.

warnings: sub felix, dom reader, gn reader, fingering (felix recieving), dacryphilia (heavy in this), exhibitionism (again, heavy), wanting to be caught, lowk an orgy at the end (kind of?), masturbating (of various kinds), minsung, kinda implied seungmin and i.n., possibly more

word count: 3.2k

a/n: i'd like to preface this by saying that i'm actually so sorry about how long this took to come out-it got buried in my inbox and i only saw it when i decided to go through them all, but anyway, it's here now so i hope you enjoy!

this also isn't proofread but hopefully will be soon enough when i find the energy to do so :p

“Tell me what you want, Lixie,” he shivers, with your breath fanning over his skin, your words in his ear.

He can hardly stand it.

Hardly stay sane.

Especially since your barely alone, on the cusp of being right out in the fucking open.

“Please…” he whines again, for what feels like the tenth time in a row, over and over again, wishing for more, wishing for everything you could give him.

His friends are right outside the room. The door is cracked open and the walls paper-thin.

He's sure they can hear him. Sure that they know what's going on in here, know that their bandmate is getting his brain fucked out by his girlfriend in the next room over.

"Please,"

And he doesn't care.

They can come watch for all he cares, the thought makes him feel even hotter; the idea of them watching you ruin him, make him cry and beg and plead.

Call him pathetic and needy, a little slut who likes to get off while his friends all watch.

And he can't help but notice that the sound of the TV, that was so obviously on before has gone silent.

"Come on, tell me one more time. Just one more. I need to make sure that I really know what you want."

Touch him, claim him, devour him. Bite him, mark him, make him cry out your name until his voice is a rasp and his throat aches.

He's too far gone to care, too far gone to want anything else than the hand that's just barely ghosting over his dick.

"Do anything, anything at all~, I need you, I need it, I ne-"

You pinch his nipple, rolling it between your thumb and forefinger, licking down the side of his neck along the freckles with intent; his mouth all but falls open in a silent scream.

He can't do this, god he can't do this.

He'll go insane. He'll lose his mind.

With the warm wet feeling of your tongue gliding along his neck, nibbling on his collarbone, sucking a mark there before moving to the next patch of skin that'll be laid victim to your lust.

With the position you're in, your back against the headboard, his against your chest.

Your legs are hooked over his, pulling them apart.

His body, completely bare as your hand leaves teasing brushes all over his inner thighs and cock; the other one's having its own fun in giving him shockwaves of pleasure by tugging on his sensitive buds, relishing in the noises he makes in reply, in the way he shoves his chest toward your hand whenever you teasingly pull away

"Needy baby," you croon into his ear and he melts into your skin, into your warmth, into the solid form of your body curled around him. "Be specific," your teeth nip at his earlobe, "tell me exactly what you want."

It's like every little thing you do sets him off so easily, every touch an electric shock of sensitivity that has him gasping and reeling for a breath to calm his dizzying head.

It ruins him all the more when he remembers the door, the crack and the way you've seemed to position him, presented completely bare and open to anyone who would happen to walk in.

"Tell me."

Shit, he could cry from the way you're talking to him. He could probably cum from that alone.

"U-um,"

His hiccupy gasps bounce around the room, much too loud for anyone outside to not hear anything.

"I-I want,"

Your hand? Your mouth? Your thigh? He doesn't know, he doesn't know, he wants it all, wants everything you can give him, he can take all of it. He will take all of it, if it means you'll finally just fucking touch him.

Your fingers leave his chest, running over his collarbone and neck and jaw to lift his chin, forcing his neck sideways so that he can look back at you.

He waits expectantly, for you to do anything, for a kiss or a tease or another reminder to speak up.

"Lixie," Your tone is sharp but also soft; demanding but also suggesting; forcing but coaxing. He doesn't know how you do it, doesn't know how it has such an effect on him but it makes him wanna do horrible, horrible things. Or better yet, let you do horrible, horrible things. "You wanna hear what I want?"

He feels his head nodding, sees your smile growing, watches the desire simmer in your eyes.

Knuckles drag along his cheek with nothing but overdone faux gentleness, like he's glass and you don't want to break him.

Like you're not about to ruin him.

The calm before the storm he supposed.

Before you finally tell him what you want, "I want to make you cry." Suddenly your hand is caressing his throat. "I want to make you beg," it loosely wraps around, your thumb brushing over his pulse point. "And I want to make you plead." You can feel his heart race under your fingertips. "I want your eyes all glassy and wide, trembling as I make you go completely dumb."

"I-" His voice is shaky, panted out with that crinkle between his eyebrows that tells you he's paying more attention to the hand wrapped around his throat that he wants to admit. "W-why?" He doesn't really care for the answer. He's turned on enough knowing that you want him like that. That you want this just as much if not more than him even. He'd rather shut up and let you hurry along but he can tell you want him to play into your theatrics. You want him to play pretend.

"I can't help myself." He gasps when your other hand grabs onto his hips, blunt nails digging into his skin, leaving crescent marks in their wake as you flip him over and press him into the mattress. "When you look helpless and needy like that, just like you are now," He doesn't know how he looks now, he doesn't know if he wants to know but if the sight makes your eyes darken with lust like it does, well then hell he'll do anything to recreate it.

"I want you to depend on me. I want you to need me."

His hair fans around his head like a halo, just like the pretty little angel he is. "You're just so pretty and you look so sad, I just wanna comfort you and hold you, keep you all to myself."

Your hand squeezes ever so slightly around his neck, restricting his breathing ever so slightly that his mouth falls open with laboured pants-partially played up just for the sake of your pupils dilating. Your jaw clenches, eyes sweeping hungrily along his trembling lips before you're leaning in, nose brushing along the line of his jaw, warm breath against his skin that makes him sigh in bliss, fingers twitching with a want to touch you.

You beat him to it though. “Can I touch you, angel? Please, pretty pretty please?” Your breathing is heavy, raspy

He doesn't know why you're asking, why when you already know the answer.

He's your's. Your's to play with and touch and tease and torture to your hearts content. If you want him to squirm-he'll squirm. If you want him to beg-he'll beg. If you want him to cry...you know it all too well that he'll cry, just for you.

"Pretty, pretty please angel? Let me feel you, make you feel so, so good." Your voice is soft like silk, honeyed and candied to hide the venom sinking into his skin, infecting him until every part of his body feels like it's on fire. "I'll find that spot that makes your back arch and your eyes roll back, you want that?"

If you want him to play into your little game, he'll gladly play it. Swallowing heavily, throat bobbing against your grip. “Y-yes, please.”

So you do. You finally, finally do more than a brush of your hand.

You let go of his throat and a high needy whine escapes his lips, silenced nearly immediately by your fingers pressing against his taint, toying around his rim, "you want me here?"

He gasps, sharp and quick and the noise sounds all too loud against the silence in the room-and what if the others heard him-and what if they're sitting on the other side of the door now, watching him, wising they coul-

"Baby?" Your fingers pinch his thigh, ripping a moan from his lungs.

"Yes! Yes please!"

You smile, soothing over the spot. "Aww, such a good boy, with such good manners." Reaching over him to the nightstand, you pull out a bottle of lube before cracking it open and pouring some over your fingers.

You warm it up before you touch him, well, because you're not that mean-not yet anyway.

His gasp rings through the room when you press a finger into him. A high moan escaping his open lips, out the door and to the main area of the dorms where the rest of the boys are but you pay that no mind, dragging your fingers against his clenching walls, feeling around for that spot that'll make him gasp.

You don't care if they hear. Don't care if they watch. You know he doesn't mind either, if that desperate look in his eye has anything to say, emotions glinting as he glances at the door then back at you-hopeful and then disappointed.

As if every time he looks over he hopes that he'll see one of them, staring back at him.

And if the way the others have gotten suspiciously quiet outside, you don't think that'll take very long.

"Want the others to walk in Lix? Want them to come in and watch?" He moans wantonly, legs spreading open to invite your touch further. His body shudders with pleasure at the mere thought of the others watching him, their eyes envious. Not knowing if they'd rather be Felix, getting ruined and pulled apart by you; or you, inflicting it all. "Want them to touch?"

You press a second finger into him, quickening the speed, lips brushing against his skin as he nods, quick and desperate as the muscles of his legs clench and unclench, nearly spasming against your hips.

"I-i want them so bad! I-i-" his mouth is dry. His head is foggy with the idea. With your touch. With the door a crack fucking open, inviting the other inhabitants of the dorm inside. "I-i!"

And then your hand is on his throat again.

His voice cracks, breaking off into a sob as you find his prostate, fingertips grazing the spot, teasing before adding a third finger and thrusting right against it.

Hard, fast, going at a pace that he can’t nearly wrap his head around as much as let out noises akin strangled animal; grasping at your shoulders, pawing down at your wrist, pleading for you to go faster and faster and faster.

Reaching up to his throat. His gaze meeting yours in a clash of pleasure and desperation and want and need before pulling at your hand and lacing your fingers with his.

Your gaze softens, your heart melts and he blinks. Once, twice and then he can’t help but give you exactly what you want.

His eyes first grow glossy, eyelashes fluttering as if to try to hold them back. It's a futile battle. You both know that he gets so sensitive so quickly and can't hold it back. But like he said...you like a show.

You breath.

He sniffles.

Tears like liquidized crystal prick at his eyes, one, then two, then more following down the ridges and slopes of his pretty face, creating tracks of tear stains as your heart races in your chest.

His quiet cries fill the room and it drives something inside you crazy, feral, heat filling every crevice of your body.

Something inside of you sings to see him like this, and you don't even realize you've moved at all until he's letting out a watery gasp and your hand is squeezing his harder, pressing it into the sheets and your pace gets faster, and you hit his prostate head on with deadly precision each time, abusing it over and over with your fingertips and-and-

and you're leaning in and licking up his tears, the salt clinging to your tastebuds as he sobs and squirms, unable to keep still with the way that you touch him so maddeningly.

Your tongue is hot, wet, dizzying as it drags across his skin, the sensation paired with the soft press of your lips as you kiss over his freckles too and the brutal insistence of your fingers.

You lave love and affection and utter adoration with every movement and it only makes the tears come faster, makes his lighter, fuzzier.

You add a third finger and he feels everything inside of him shatter.

"-Stop! You can't, I'm-I-I'll"

"-You'll what?" You coo, and you pout like you feel bad for him, like this isn't driving you insane with lust. Like this isn't making you want to fuck his brains out even more. "You'll cum? Put on a pretty show for all your friends?"

He nods helplessly with a small whimper, head much too surrendered into the blissful haze of something far beyond him. Lube drips lewdly down your fingers and onto the sheets as you slow your pace, dragging frustrated huffs from his pretty, perfect lips.

"Words baby,"

He doesn't reply, only whines.

And you can only watch on with hungry eyes as he clumsily attempts to fuck himself to make up for the lost stimulation.

He's unused to it as many times as you've done this, used to sitting back and letting you do the work, it pulls breathless gasps from him at the new experience, at how much exertion it takes to make his hips roll and buck and his ass greedily sucks your fingers deep inside of him.

The noises pouring from his mouth are obscene and fervid, high and ringing loudly off the walls. "Yes-" he breathes, mewling "fuck, yes. Want to-...want them, want..."

He trails off and you can only continue off the barely there thought but you know him much too well to not know where he was going. "Want them rubbing their dicks to you? Your pathetic little moans and whines-gonna cum for me and cum for them too?"

His chest falls up and down, up and down. His nails dig into the flesh of your hand and with no other warnings his mouth his falling open, back bowing up into an arch as he shoots ropes of cum all over his stomach and chest.

"Fuck~"

---

It had been Han to lower down the volume on the TV when he first heard something.

A moan.

Desperate and ruined.

It was Seungmin to glare at him, eyebrows furrowing at his blatant pervertedness.

It had been Minho to raise a brow at him, snatching the remote from Han to hold it out as an offering to him-a challenge.

The words silent but a scream all it once in his eyes.

'You want to turn it down? Do it yourself.'

Seungmin stared at it as another moan came from the door-it wasn't even fucking closed the whole way.

"Fucking pervs," he'd muttered but if he'd really felt that way he would've taken the remote.

Minho looked around at the others and the others looked at him.

And he slowly set the remote down on the coffee table, open to anyone who had the willpower to turn the volume back up.

It was, surprisingly, Jeongin who grabbed the remote and turned it off completely.

And as of now the living room is dead silent as the entirety of the dorms goes quiet as well, Felix's moans ceasing to halt.

Hyunjin is the first to speak, shifting in place from where he sits on the couch, his face is red to pair with the white-knuckled grip he has on a pillow as he presses it over his lap. "We all heard that right? I'm not just hearing things?"

He only recieves blank stares in return, as if his mind could conjure such things up.

As if it isn't obvious the way that he subtly grinds up against the pillow on his lap but no one comments. Not any of the rest of them fare much better.

Han sits on Minho's lap. Desperately dryhumping against him with his face tucked into Minho's neck as his hand grips into his hair.

It's clear that he's trying to be quiet as possible despite Han's teeth dragging over his throat and quick sharp thrusts he delivers. But the quiet ragged gasps have slowly risen in volume since Hyunjin's spoken and their little show in the other room has ended. Compared to his counterpart, he sounds composed though, Han lets out ruined whines between gasps, getting higher and needier with ever second that passes by.

The two had never been shy of PDA among their friends but this was much further than the sensual but short kisses or the teasing smack on the ass.

No one was complaining though.

Changbin shamelessly palms himself over his pants. He lets his eyes slip shut as he slowly lets his hands unbutton his tight jeans, sighing when his hand dips under the waistband of his boxers.

He can feel the eyes of the others on him, feel the particular hunger for him to pull down his boxers so he can stroke himself out in the open but he doesn't. He'll leave a little something to the imagination as he groans loudly, letting his head fall back onto the cushions of the couch, the muscles in his arms flexing as he throbs.

Seungmin and Jeongin sit next to each other on the opposite couch, a shared blanket over them from earlier. Before all of this.

They glance at each other once, twice before they're silently moving, quietly leaving the room together without so much as looking at any of the others.

The sound of a door clicking shut at the end of the hall is the only thing heard.

And Chan, their leader, only stares in the direction of Felix's door, trying to ignore the raging boner he doesn't even bother to hide.

His hair still slightly wet from an earlier shower now rests in untamed curls, hanging over his forehead as he turns away from the others, hiding a raging blush on his cheeks.

Should they have left? Put earbuds in or turned the volume on the TV loud to drown out the noise of their friend?

Perhaps.

But did they?

No.

No they did not.

And did any of them regret it?

...

a/n: ngl this was kinda hard to write for the part with the other's reactions but i'm hoping that it's okay😭

lmk what you thought and my taglist is here if you wanna be added: @hobihearteu, @missrobyn81, @laylasbunbunny, @xcookiemonsteer, @hahagay, @maru-matt, @d7dream, @amidstnamjin-and-binchanlix, @gwithoutv, @abcdefgiwsmcty, hoping i got everyone rn i'm probably gonna make a more organized vers of my taglist soon

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rs-hawk · 3 months ago

Note

Are you willing to write about anthropomorphic gorillas?

Sure, like a Missing Link type thing? I think this piece is my longest so far. I actually had a lot of fun with it so let me know if y'all want more of it :)

You were studying evolution by going backwards, starting with modern day Homo Sapiens until you ended up on an island off the coast of South America, in the middle of no where. While you always had been a huge believer in the floating vegetation theory, the idea of something as large as a primate, hominin or hominid travelling via floating clumps of vegetation seemed far fetched, even to you. Yet here you were, standing on one island of a long island chain that had previously never been studied.

"Are you sure this is even worth the time?" your assistant asked as he looked around the area, a frown creasing his face. "I know that we're searching for a link, but come on Doc. This seems like a stretch."

"I know, but this is where those trees originated, and if they ended up in Brazil, maybe that could explain how New World Monkeys ended up in South America," you say, mirroring his frown.

The two of you, and a small crew, spread out to find a suitable place to camp. Once it's found, you settle in. In the morning, you've planned to try to find any primates who might still reside here. Much to your surprise, when you wake up in the morning, you see a large humanoid footprint right outside the campsite. A knot forms in your stomach as you imagine how big that creature must have been.

Your crew is also stunned, especially your assistant. He insists on following you around like a lost pup, toting a gun. You have to tell him to stop and calm down. Human presence here already is disruptive to the ecosystem. He doesn't need to make it worse. With a grumble and a grunt, he slings it over his shoulder, taking care not to let it catch on any flora in the area.

"Look at this," you breathe, gesturing to the large footprints that you found in a clearing.

You're so excited that you feel like you're basically vibrating. Yes, this isn't even close to what you're looking for, but a primate of that size would be the scientific discovery of the century! Who knows what something like that could mean for the state of evolution. Surely you could get another grant to come back and study it.

"Be careful," your assistant mutters as you approach the footprints, measuring the size and diameter. The depth of the footprint stuns you. "Whatever left that could be dangerous."

"You think everything could be dangerous," you roll your eyes, recording your notes. "Besides, I know more about primates than you. I know that they have the potential to be dangerous. We would see this creature if it was anywhere in the area."

"Yeah," he mutters, looking around.

After a bit of back and forth, you send him back to camp to get more supplies for you to study the footprints. Once he's out of sight, you pause before following the footprints. He would be on you about following this creature, but you can't help yourself. Something is pulling you closer to it. Like a primal need to be closer to this creature. This piece of your own history.

A voice that you don't recognize came from somewhere in the distance in front of you. After a moment, a huge, towering figure comes out of the trees. The trees themselves bend to his will. Your stomach drops. You steps falter. This creature could have easily crushed you if it so chose.

The creature, a towering hulk of a something that is a perfect blend of man and gorilla. Your throat feels like it's closing up as it stops a few paces away from you. Opening its mouth, the creature speaks to you again, but you still don't understand what the words mean.

"I'm sorry," you say after a moment, the stunned buzzing in your brain starting to dissipate. This creature can speak. There's no way that your grant won't be extended. "I don't understand what you're saying."

He, you think he based on the physique this close, frowns at you. He speaks again. You shake your head. Once more. Again, you shake. This time when he speaks, you don't understand what he's saying, but you do recognize it as Latin. "I don't speak Latin but it's the root language for mine."

The creature looks at you, now shaking his head. The both of you try to communicate with each other, and it works to an extent. You're fairly certain that he comes from a small village at the base of the mountain near the center of the island. They mostly eat fruits and vegetables, and he makes gestures that leads you to believe that clothes are sometimes worn, but not the norm.

Before you realize it, you and the creature are sitting beside each other, his towering form nearly obscuring you when your assistant finally makes his way back to you.

"What is that thing?" he yells, making a grab for his gun.

"Don't! He's friendly. He was telling me about his home," you jump up, putting yourself between them.

Your assistant eyes him wearily. The creature looks at you, then back at your assistant. He says something you don't understand in Latin, then waves at your assistant. He frowns slightly. It feels like there's going to be a stand off, but instead, your assistant folds his arms over his chest, a frown steeped into his features.

"Go back to the camp. Thank you for the supplies. I will be back before nightfall," you promise, slightly shooing him away.

After a bit of back and forth, you convince him to leave. You and the creature stay together for a long time, until dusk. Every day for weeks, the entire expedition, you meet up with the creature, getting closer to him. Getting to know him and his people. You even get to see the outskirts of the village. A true testament to how amazing evolution and innovation are.

When the night before you are set to leave comes, you come to him, standing outside his village, a basket of his favorite fruits and vegetables clutched in your shaking hands. He sees you, encouraging you to come into the village. Into his home. You follow, shrinking away from the gazes of his people, who seem to know you don't belong here. And how could they not? You're so small compared to them. So fragile.

In his hut, you feel even smaller. Everything in there is so large compared to you. You haven't been able to figure out a name from your new friend, but you've taken to calling him Link in your head. Link hands you a fruit that you've never seen before he sits in what is essentially a chair across from you.

"I'm leaving tomorrow," you say quietly, looking down at your fruit. He doesn't respond. You look up at him, and you can tell even under the fur that he's frowning. "In the morning, the boat is leaving. I have to go with them."

He says something you don't understand, to which you shrug. He points at the hole that functions as a door in his hut, then at you, and waves. You nod. He looks down at his hands, his shoulders slumped forward. Neither of you say anything for a moment, then he gets up. His massive form nearly encompassing you as he stands in front of you.

He opens his mouth, then closes it. In broken English, he says, "S-stay." Your eyes well with tears as you shake your head, staring at the way his hands cover yours when he grabs them. "Me. Stay me."

You shake your head again, wishing that you could remember any Latin outside of names. Why didn't you pay more attention in class? "I can't."

He lets go of your hands before pacing around the hut. You look at the now crushed fruit in your hands. "Go me."

"What?" you look up at him, your heart soaring. Was he saying what you thought he was? Then again, your mind races. What would happen to him when you got back home? He would be seen as a specimen, wouldn't he?

"Go me," he comes back to you, grabbing your hands, the juice squishing between your fingers as he tightens his grip. "Go me. Go you. Go me."

"You can't come with me," you whisper, caressing his furry face. He looks at you like his heart his breaking. "I wish I could explain better." You slide your hands out of his, trying not to cry. You point toward yourself, "people like me," then you touch his chest, "would kill someone like you." You drag your thumb across your throat.

He seems to understand what you're saying, though he looks more hurt than scared. "Go me," he whispers cupping your face with his large hands. "Stay you?"

You shake your head, leaning into his touch. What had you been thinking? If you come back here, if you study them, they'll be destroyed. Their entire culture will be gone, consumed by capitalism and greed. Isn't that what's happened a thousand times over?

Suddenly, you're snapped out of your thoughts by the feeling of his lips pressed against yours. His fur tickling your skin. You blink a couple of times before kissing him back, surprised but happily so by the sudden show of affection. His tongue demands an entry to your mouth. You shiver, giving in to the lust and overwhelming affection for him that has sprung up on you all at once, but unsurprisingly.

His large hands trail down your body, pausing at the end of your shirt. He mutters something against your lips that you understand the gist of. He wants you as bare as him. You hesitate, your face flushing, but it only takes another tug at your shirt for you to relent. In seconds you've stripped yourself, probably the fastest you've ever done such. His huge hands cup your breasts, covering them completely. When he picks you up to settle you in his lap, you feel how big his cock is hard. Sure, you've seen it as he doesn't wear clothes, but this was different.

Maybe he's more human than you thought, because unlike other primate species, but like humans, size did seem to matter. You realize that when he breaks the kiss to look at you, then at himself. He looks... embarrassed.

You don't know what compels you, maybe just the look on his face, but you start stroking him, having to use both hands to wrap about him. His eyes fall to half lidded. His breathing hitches. Slowly, he grinds his hips against you, letting you stroke him at your leisure. You dip your head down, struggling, but managing, to take the tip of his cock in your mouth. He grunts, digging his nails into your back. You know there will be, at best, crescent shaped bruises on your back come morning.

You bob your head as much as you can manage, his grunts and soft whines spurring you on. While you can't understand the things that slip from his mouth, you can tell by the way he says them that he's enjoying it.

You do your best to get him further down your throat, bracing yourself against his furry hips, but that just makes him grunt, snorting out of flared nostrils. For a second you still, every hair on the back of your neck standing up. Every nerve screaming danger. Even in this moment, you are aware that a primate doing that can spell death. It's a common sign of anger or aggression.

You're surprised when he lifts your head off of him, shaking his head. You frown, raising your eyebrows to ask why. He pauses before adjusting you, easily picking you up and settling you back in his lap, this time with your back against his chest. You're a bit ashamed of yourself to see the mess your wetness made of his fur, but that thought abandons you as he grinds his cock against your core, but his fingers dip down in front of you, teasing your clit.

You whine, grinding back against him. With his other hand, he's back to playing with your breast, softly pinching your nipples. Rolling his thumb over your senstive center over and over again. He brings you to a surprisingly quick orgasm. He makes a sound you think sounds like a laugh before his fingers dip lower. You still, even your breathing, as he slids one finger into your dripping hole.

He starts off slowly as he fingers you, before adding another. You press yourself more against his chest, whimpering and babbling about how good it feels. This time, you're sure it's a chuckle. He spreads his fingers out inside of you, trying to stretch you out. Your head lulls to the side, leaning against his arm. You feel so full. So good. Through your haze, it takes you a moment to realize that he's settling you onto his cock.

A quiet yip escapes your lips as his huge tip fills you more than anything you've ever taken. He pauses, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. You try to press yourself down on him. You don't even realize you're chanting. Begging.

"More. More. Please! More."

He understands the premise enough to push you down lower and lower on him, slowly impaling you. He gives you time to adjust, and by the time he bottoms out inside of you, you're a drooling, babbling mess. He drops you up and down on his cock slowly, then faster and faster. You're crying out for him, grabbing onto his arms as he bounces you on his cock, the huge member even extending your stomach. You know you're soaking his fur, but you can't help yourself. You lose track of how many times him pounding and sliding against your g-spot makes you cum.

By the time he does, you're sobbing from over stimulation, and he's whispering to you in a soothing voice, stroking your hair with one hand as the other guides you to roll your hips on him. He finally cums, so much that it overflows from you. You whimper and press your head back harder against him, feeling the best you ever have in your life. How are you possibly supposed to leave him?

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sassypossum · 1 month ago

Text

You Told Him What???

Miguel O'Hara x Reader ~ Wade Wilson x Sis!Reader ~ Fluff

This was the reason you didn't want your brother meeting your boyfriend...

"Querida, what on earth is this?" Miguel stood in front of the refrigerator looking perplexed. Placing the knife, you'd been cutting with on the counter, you wiped your hands off on your apron and moved to stand behind him.

"What on earth is what, Miguel?" Wrapping your arms around his waist you strained to see what he was talking about.

"What are you expecting to see from back there?" He said dryly.

"I like this view just fine, thank you very much." Resting your chin between his shoulder blades you ran a finger up the center of his sternum.

"Please, querida." He huffed, grabbing your hand.

"Okay, okay." Muscling your way under his arm, you tilted your head back to look at him. "Hi."

"Hello." Miguel returned your warm smile with a small one of his own and wrapped his arm around your waist. Turning your attention back to the fridge, you narrowed your eyes.

"What am I looking for?"

"That." Miguel nodded towards a plastic wrapped package of cheese. Your brows scrunched in confusion. Had he never seen cheese before?

"Babe, that's cheese."

"Cheese?" He looked askance at you. Tilting your head back further to meet his gaze you blinked.

"Cheese." Miguel raised a brow in suspicion.

"Y/N, why is each slice wrapped in its own plastic?"

"Oh! That question makes more sense." Nodding your head, you spoke more to yourself than to him.

"Querida?"

"Hm?" Turning back, you noted his expectant expression. "Oh, yes! Cause it was cheaper." Miguel looked from you back to the cheese with skepticism.

"It can't taste that good, then."

"Oh, it's horrible."

"Then why do you buy it?"

"Because it's cheap, I'm on a budget remember?" Miguel closed the fridge with a frown and turned to lean against the door.

"Hm." He nodded, pulling you into his arms. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you rested your chin on his chest and just watched him. Miguel was truly a work of art. Even now with that thoughtful expression on his face, he had to be one of the most attractive men you'd ever had the pleasure to know. His strong brows drew together in consternation, and you could practically see the gears turning in his mind.

"Hey, what are you thinking about?" Reaching up you ran a hand through his hair. Miguel snapped out of his haze and stared into your eyes with renewed interest.

"Nothing, querida." He shook his head. Your brow quirked and the corners of your lips dipped into a frown.

"Don't give me that, O'Hara, your brain was getting so hot I was afraid it was going to combust." Miguel chuckled and tightened his grip on your waist.

"If you're ever making grilled cheese, remind me to bring my own queso." You pulled back with a staged gasp and gently slapped his shoulder.

"Miguel O'Hara, are you making fun of my discount store queso?"

"No, Y/N, I'm making fun of your plastic cheese, that abomination could hardly pass for proper queso." He smirked and shrugged his shoulders. Your eyes lit with challenge, and you pulled yourself up to your full height.

"Oh, is that so?"

"That is so." He leaned forward and frowned; this might have been more intimidating had the playful affection dancing in his eyes not given him away. Standing on your tiptoes you came noes to noes with him and narrowed your eyes. Miguel's eyes dipped to your lips, and you could feel your throat growing tighter.

"What are you going to do about it, O'Hara?" Your eyes flickered to his lips. Something in his eyes shifted, and the red darkened almost to black. Snaking a hand up to cup your jaw, he tilted your face back and closing his eyes leaned forward,

Knock. Knock.

With a groan, you collapsed against his chest. Miguel growled and rested his forehead on the crown of your head.

"Talk about timing." You muttered; voice muffled by his shirt. You could feel Miguel tense and heard another low growl rumble from deep in his chest.

"Want me to run whoever it is off?" He fisted the hair at the nape of your neck and rested his cheek against the crown of your head. Pulling back, you gave him a smile and kissed his jaw.

"Tempting." A shiver went through your body at the gleam in his eyes, and you raised onto your tiptoes again to press a lingering kiss to his cheek. "But I have to live in this neighborhood." Lowering back onto the balls of your feet, you gave his chest and final pat and pulled away. Reluctantly, Miguel released you. "Why don't you make yourself useful and finish chopping the onions."

"Onions." He grumbled, propping his hands on his hips. Walking backwards towards the door you gave him a smile.

"What else am I paying you for?" Shaking his head, Miguel grabbed the knife and shook it at you.

"You're not paying me anything." When you opened your mouth to retort, he shook his head and motioned towards the door. "Answer the door, querida."

Turning to face the door, you glanced through the peep hole and felt your heart drop to your feet. Wade. This was it. The moment you'd been actively avoiding. Slowly you reached for the doorhandle, turning quickly to glance over your shoulder. Miguel was engrossed in his chopping. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door.

"Hey, Y/N!" There stood your brother in all his glory. Giant white take out bag in hand, and if you had to guess, under his mask he most likely sported an annoyingly bright smile.

"Wade, what are you doing here?" You hissed, closing the door just an inch. Wade's eyes narrowed momentarily, and he glanced down at the bag in his hand.

"I brought empanadas!" He hoisted up the bag and shook it for emphasis. At the unimpressed look on your face, he slowly lowered the bag.

"You were bored?"

"I was bored." Clutching the bag of empanadas, he shifted and looked at you expectantly. "Can I come in?"

"No."

"No?" He gasped, incredulously.

"That's what I said, Wade." Tilting his head to the side, he looked you up and down before narrowing his eyes again.

"You have someone over here, don't you?" Your eyes darted nervously towards the kitchen, and Wade followed your eyeline. "It's a man isn't it?" Wade crumpled the bag and leaned further into the room to see Miguel now chopping garlic. "That new spider freak?!" Your eyes darted back to his and you clamped your hand over his mouth.

"Shh! He'll hear you." You hissed, glaring up at him. "Besides, he's not a freak." Glancing towards the kitchen again, Wade scoffed.

" Sis, you can't be serious!" Wade looked over your shoulder to get another look of your new boyfriend.

"Oh yeah, and why's that, Wade?" Rolling your eyes, you leaned against the door frame in hopes of blocking your brothers view of the kitchen. Shaking his head, Wade merely leaned further to stare at the large man standing in the kitchen.

"C'mon Sis, sure he's hot, but he's got the personality of a rice cake."

"Takes one to know one, dead pool." You leaned forward and growled. Wade pulled back in exaggerated shock.

"That was a low blow, Y/N, but I'll forgive you this time."

"How generous of you." Rolling your eyes, you folded your arms.

"But really, sis, O'Hara?"

"He's a vampire." You blurted out. Wade dropped the bag. You covered your face and moaned. What have I done?

"No he's not." Wade chuckled. That raised your dander. Folding your arms, you set your jaw and gave him a determined look.

"Yes he is." Wade narrowed his eyes and looked passed you.

"Really?" He still sounded skeptical.

"Really."

"Him?" Wade dropped his confident posture and pointed a finger towards the kitchen.

"Him." You nodded, feeling oddly satisfied. Wade dropped his hand and looked at the wilted bag on the floor.

"Huh, well... that's cool, I guess." Bending down to pick up the bag he muttered to himself. "If you're into that sort of thing." You stepped back and opened the door wider.

"Do you still want to stay for dinner?" Wade snapped to attention and his head swiveled towards the kitchen before he backed up slowly.

"Maybe some other time, sis, uhm." Rubbing his head, he squinted at you. "Tell count chocula I said hi." Before you could open your mouth, he'd vanished.

"Obstinate merc." You chuckled, shaking your head. Closing the door, you turned back to the kitchen. Seeing Miguel glance up at you, suddenly your feet felt very heavy. The weight of what you'd told your brother consumed your whole body. With stilted steps you inched towards the island countertop.

"Who was that?" Miguel paused chopping to look up at you. Plopping onto a stool you rested your chin in your hands and sighed.

"My brother."

"Why didn't you ask him to stay?" Miguel resumed his chopping.

"Is that my apron?" You grinned at how adorable he looked in the comically small scrap of fabric covering his shirt. Miguel looked up and narrowed his eyes.

"You're avoiding the question, querida."

"I most certainly am, osito." Miguel hissed at the absurd pet name.

"Osito." He grumbled. Tapping your finger on your chin, you stared into the middle distance.

"He had somewhere to be.' That wasn't exactly a lie, you had no clue where Wade went or what he'd invent to do.

"Ah." Miguel seemed satisfied with that answer.

"Maybe next time." You turned your attention back to him. Miguel nodded without looking up. "Osito?"

"Hm?"

"I might have told him you were a vampire..." Miguel froze and dropped the knife.

"You told him what?!"

#miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #atsv #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara fanfiction #wade wilson #deadpool #wade wilson x sis!reader #fluff #wade wilson fluff #deadpool fluff

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incognitoleeknow · 18 days ago

Text

The College Blonde

Synopsis:

After getting stuck trying make your assignment deadline, you find your life taking a quick turn for the pleasurable when you meet a stunning blonde who seems to be just the thing you needed to reignite your creativity.

Pairing: Dom!Femreader x Sub!Felix

Genre: Porn w/o plot, smut

Word count: 3.2k

College AU. Porn without plot. Lust at first sight. Strangers to lovers. Jeongin makes a cameo in the beginning as MC's best friend. Pleasure-dom reader. Submissive Felix. Mommy kink (Felix calls reader "mommy" once). Slight dacryphilia. Light orgasm denial. Reader uses nicknames like "good boy, kitten". Body worship. Blowjob (Male receiving). Corruption kink. Exhibitionism (sex in public). Y/N POV.

A/n: This is my first time writing a fic so be as brutal as you wish. Also, I'm not a native english speaker and I spell like a rake so grammatical errors and spelling errors are bound to be found. You have been warned. Enjoy!

Explicit content, adult themes, suitable for 18+ only.

This is an original work. Do not repost, re-upload or otherwise redistribute.

"Thank you for cheering me up today. I honestly don't know what I would do without you."

You took an elongated sip from your americano, sighing in delight as you felt the icy liquid pass your tongue, temporarily relieving you from the blistering summer heat.

"You didn't leave me much of a choice now, did you?" Jeongin said as a playfull smirk creeped up the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, Yeah?" You looked up with a raised eyebrow, taking a small break from the date with your iced americano.

"We both know you could never say 'no' to me." You flickered your eyebrows in a playfull display of challange, a satisfactory smile taking form on your plump lips.

Sighing in defeat, Jeongin leaned back into the soft leather cushions of the Cafe chair. Followed by a soft chuckle as he said,

"Yeah well, you got me there I guess. So how's the paper coming along?" Concern in his voice apparent, albeit unessesary.

You knew he was referring to this semesters paper. And even though it started off as a fun and easy assignment, you had now hit the dreaded fictional wall. Apparently any topic could get you feeling bored and filled with anxiety, given lack of creativity.

A small bump in the road, you were sure. The typical cycle of the creative progress. For inspiration surely is lucrative albeit a fleeting thing, and you suppose you would have to simply wait, until creativity decided to grace your mind with its presence once again.

Insert Jeongin and your eager request to meet him for coffee. You were best friends and had been since the second week of college. You had been late, as you usually were, running across campus with hurried steps in futile hopes of getting to the lecture hall before your professor.

That same morning, however, your sleep ridden brain failed to remember how to tie your shoelaces. Instead opting for the much faster approach of simply tucking said laces into the sides, between your shoe and your feet. Resulting in the typical sitcom fall-over-your-own-feet plot, successfully yeeting your body towards the ground at a horrifying speed.

Standing just a few feet away observing the borderline comical fall, Jeongin hurried over to you and asked if you were okay.

A quick visit to the nurses office, thanks to repeatedly insisting on Jeongin's part, you found yourself earning a sprained wrist along with your first college friend.

"Y/N?" Jeongin asked with slite concern.

"Huh? Oh, sorry, I must've spaced out for a second. What was the question again?" You asked as you shook your head, slowly blinking your eyes, trying to snap back to reality.

"You seem stressed, are you okay?" He said as he leaned forward, taking your hands in his own.

"Nah, it's not as bad as it might appear. I think I just need to blow off some steam, you know?" You gave his hands a reassuring squeeze, thankful for his genuine concern.

"Some steam, ey?" Mischievous smile returning to his lips along with a playful eyebrow raise.

"Oh come on, you know what I mean. I just need to have a night out with friends or something." You said, shaking off Jeongin's suggestive sarcasm.

Although you would have lied if you would had said that the thought of a steamy night with a stranger did not intrigue you.

To be completely honest with yourself, the thought alone made you clench around nothing. But where would you even find someone? On campus? Not a fucking chance.

***

With a huge smile on your lips, you waved goodbye to your friend, feeling somewhat relieved for the first time in a hot minute.

You took a deep breath, letting the sent of greenery and sunshine envelope your senses. You could feel your muscles slowly relaxing as you stretched your body, arms high above your head.

With a newly given optimism and drive, courtesy of your bff, you decided to take the opportunity to go to the campus library, in hopes of finding some additional inspiration for your paper.

Walking with slow, unhurried steps you went through the campus park, taking in the scenery around you, coming to a stop before the fountain placed in the center of the grounds.

You had always liked this fountain and the majestic water display it provided.

Taking a few minutes to admire the way the water elegantly sprayed from the unpolished steel structure. Your mood brightened by the way the droplets formed an array of colors in the sunlight, gleefully watching as they bounced playfully against the wet surface and reconnected with the marbled pool at the base.

Indeed, the soothing sound of water hitting the wet surface, was you favorite. Surely nothing could be more relaxing than this.

Closing your eyes, you let the world disappear into the background as time seemingly came to a halt around you.

Ah, peace of mind...

You exhaled a deep breath with feeling of an oncoming gentle, warm summer breeze.

The presence of another soul beside you, made you quickly snap back to reality however, effectively bursting the ethereal bubble you created with a loud 'pop'.

A hint of annoyance crossed your features, as you slowly cracked an eye open to see the person responsible.

Your annoyance, was quickly replaced by sheer astonishment followed by a hushed gasp as your eyes took in the being standing beside you. If you did not know any better, you would have sworn you were looking at an angel. He was long, muscular in built with broad shoulders and long, blond traces elegantly falling along his sharp jawline. Beautiful, wooden eyes and a galaxy of freckles displayed across rose tinted cheeks. He was starring ahead, at the fountain no doubt, seemingly oblivious to your less than stellar reaction to his visuals.

You forced yourself out of your trance. Feeling somewhat embarrassed by your blatant display of lack of self-control. You absent-mindedly looked at your watch trying to, unsuccessfully, appear unaffected by the stunning stranger.

"Shit!"

Your sudden exclamation startles the poor boy beside you, making his eyes follow you in confused horror as you took off sprinting towards the library, remembering your upcoming assignment deadline.

***

Time sure flies fast when you are looking at a whole God damn meal. Unfortunately time moves slower than a fucking snail when you are doing an assignment you do not have even the 10th of as much of an interest doing.

With the deadline for your paper being only a couple of weeks away, you felt the pressure of adulthood on you. With a sigh, you closed yet another book you found failed to provide you with the information you needed. Pushing back your chair, you got up to start umpteenth round of ramaging the many sections of the library.

You walked torwards the deepest end of the library, the part reserved for professors who once or twice a year came to refresh their memory of some long forgotten trivia or, the occasional horny campus couple looking to spice up their sexual endeavors. You suppose it was the perfect place for privacy, given the lack of sunlight as well as the lack of efficient lighting of space. Leaving visitors with less than pleasant experience, at least if you were actually looking for something.

You went from hardback to hardback, squinting your eyes trying decipher the titles, looking for that one book Jeongin said "will definitely help you".

Trolleys with books crammed the isle, no doubt to the fault of the newly appointed campus librarian who always seemed to be more interested in hitting on whatever cute girl walked past, instead of actually doing his job. You made a mental note to remind him of his duties at a later time.

Without much attention spared to the snug space that surrounded you, you found yourself coming to a sudden halt as your face connected with something halfway through the giant bookshelf.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you" You said reflexively as you lifted your gaze to meet the person in front of you.

"No worries, mate" the deep voiced, blonde stranger replied, flashing an innocent smile that might as well have blinded you.

You instantly recognized him, and of course anyone would. The beauty of this man was unforgettable, to say the least. You were a bit taken aback by his deep voice, the depth of it unexpected, given his angelic face.

You gave a polite nodd his way and he smiled as he returend to reading the book in his hands.

Not wanting to disturb his reading session, you quietly moved to get past him, to continue your search. The small passageway and seemingly endlessly littered books and trolleys making your efforts damn near impossible.

"I'm sorry to bother you again, but I really need to get to the other side" you flashed an apologetic smile while pointing past the blonde with your finger as if the reason for you needing to get past him was not blithely clear already.

He followed the gesture of your hand, and quickly answered.

"Oh, Yeah. Of course, go ahead. Miss...?"

"Y/N." You quickly finished his sentence. "And you are..?"

"I'm Felix, nice to meet you Y/N." he smiled as he turned, pressing his body as tightly as he could against one of the bookshelves, signaling with his hands for you to go past him.

"Thank you." You said gratefully, adding a small head-bow. As you took a step closer, you angled your body face-to-face with his, thinking it to be the lesser of two evils.

Your bodies painfully flushed together as you tried to wiggle your way past him and the unfortunately placed trolly, that for whatever reason seemed to be welded to the floor. His hands moved to hold the sides of your t-shirt in an attempt to help stabilize your steps.

His cologne engulfed your senses with the close proximity, making you clench around nothing as you could feel wetness starting to form between your legs as your body unconsciously moved an inch closer to the man infront of you.

You dared a glace at him, pleasantly surprised at the sight you were met with.

Felix's cheeks had flushed a pink hue, eyes closed in an apparent attempt at self-restraint, lower lip caught between his teeth.

Cute...

Your body moved as if on que, your mind not even registering your movements before your hands made contact with the flushed blonde before you, tracing feather light, experimental touches across the sides of his torso, gliding up to settle on the pecks of his chest. His grip on your shirt tightend as a barely audible whimper escaped his lips.

The delighted smirk on your face met by his surprised one. Seemingly unable to register the sound that had previously escaped him.

"I- I'm Sorry..." he cleared his throat, embarrassed eyes turning away as his small voice trailed off mid-sentence.

Perfect...

A wicked smile on your lips, you leaned into his ear and whispered,

"That's one hell of a delicious sound you got there, Kitten" you leaned back to look at him as his eyes snapped back to meet yours, unsure if he had heard you right.

Your lustful eyes made him swallow thickly. You felt his cock twitch against your core and the color of his cheeks turned from pink to a deep crimson, spreading all the way to his ears. You licked your lips. His breath hitching in anticipation as you moved to close the distance between you.

You raised your hands to cup his burning cheeks, trapping him in a passionate kiss, taking away whatever little resolve he had as he melted into your touch.

One hand taking a firm grip of the roots of his hair, gently pulling him back, deepening the kiss, the other tracing down his chest, past his chiseled abs, stopping at the apparent bulge to stroke some much needed relief over his strained core. The sound of wet kisses and whimpers filling the tight space between bookshelves.

You broke the kiss to give room for a much needed oxygen boost. Your lungs desperately deprived of air, and by the looks of it, you were not the only one. Felix was panting helplessly, pleading eyes begging you not to stop.

"Tell me what you want" voice hushed and sultry, devilish eyes meeting his hooded ones. Felix broke eye contact, seemingly embarrassed of the thought of voicing his desires. You pressed you chest to his, warm breath making him shutter as it fanned over the shell of his ear.

"Use you words Kitten, and I'll make you feel real good, yeah?"

Moving slowly downward, you let your tongue taste his neck before leaving a trail of wet kisses along his collarbone.

You unbuttoned his pants, letting your hand slip inside the leathery material. Teasingly stroking his length as you coaxed the boy to speak.

"I want to... ah... t-touch you." he finally mustered between staggered breaths. His husky, submissive tone sent a shot of electricity straight to your core, making your cunt throb.

"If you want to touch me, you'll have to earn it, Kitten." Crouching down to your knees, you placed your hands on the back of his thighs. Stroking reassuring circles with your thumbs before teasing digits followed the outline of his clothed muscles, stopping by the hem of his pants.

You swiftly removed the piece of clothing, freeing his cock with a slight bounce and left the fabric to pool around his ankles.

His breath clung to his lugns, turning into a relieved moan of as he felt you wrap your hand around his base, gently gripping him. His muscles tensed beneath your hand as you applied a bit more pressure. You kept eye contact with him as you reached out to taste his twitching cock. Going base to tip in one painfully slow drag with your hot, wet tongue, you eventually shut your eyes. A satisfied hum escaped your throat as the salty precum connected with your taste buds.

As you opened your eyes to reap the fruits of your labor, you felt his member twitch expectantly in your hands as your eyes met. Hooded eyes filled with lustful anticipation, his body trembled with your every touch in the most delicious display of sinful submission.

Oh, what a delectable scene to behold.

You moved to grip the hem of his shirt pulling it upwards, exposing his sculpture abs with it. You took your time admiring the way his honey glossed skin prickled as you applied feather light kisses to them. He really must have been hand crafted by Venus herself. His waist was slim, shoulder wide. He was not just pretty, he was gorgeous. You had to mentally slap yourself to keep yourself focused.

"Here Kitten, be a good boy and hold this in your mouth for me." Felix wasted no time following your command, his hand trembled as he reached to take the fabric out of your way.

"Words Kitten..." you commanded, voice low and hushed.

"Y-yes, Mommy" he breathlessly stiffled out as he placed the fabric between his teeth.

The sudden impromptu nickname surprised you.

It was an unexpected answer to say the least, albeit not entirely unwelcomed. You would not have guessed he had it in him based your first impression of him, but then again, you would not have guessed him to be this submissive either, so you supposed you should not been so taken aback by it. You should never judge a book by its cover after all.

You scuffed. A subtle pleased smirk gracing your features before responding to his enthusiasm with a faint,

"Good boy."

You wrapped your plump lips around his length, slowly lowering yourself over him, swirling your tongue around the tip as you went down.

You moved your hand to cup his balls, gently playing with them before you started to apply gentle pressure, stroking the underside of his length.

"I-I can't... ah... so.. so good!" Subtle beeds of pleasure starting to form at the corners of his eyes.

Felix leaned his head back against the heavy bookshelf as his hands gently fell to the top of your head, his fingers intertwining with the strands of your hair. He offered no pressure, no aim to guide your movements. His shaky hands only set out to find a place of rest in a desperate attempt to ground himself. His hips squirmed helplessly with the building pleasure of the tortuous assault of your mouth to his core.

You let his cock fall out of your mouth with a noticeable 'pop' and Felix looked like he was ready to do the same. His hands were trembling as he desperately tried to hold on to what little sanity he had left.

"No cumming now, Kitten. You're going to be a good boy for me, aren't you?" Your hands continued to teasingly stroke his cock as you spoke, making it difficult for the poor boy to form a coherent answer.

"I-... ah.. I can't..." gentle tears blurred his vision. He could feel the unsought of his release creeping menacingly close, as he struggled to get away from your touch, not wanting the pleasure to end.

You quickly released your grip of him and watched him whimper as the sudden inaction chased his high away. His chest heaved with want, its color matching the flush of his pretty star sprinkled cheeks as he tried break through the fog of unadulterated bliss.

"P-please.." Felix managed to let out between sobs, voice small and pleading. Bringing your tongue back to the tip of his cock, you teased him with small, wet Kitten licks before taking the length of him into your mouth. You bobbed your head in a hurried fashion, feeling his soft head bouncing off the back of your throat.

Felix moaned loudly at the sudden intrusion, making the shirt fall from his mouth. He quickly replaced it with his fist in a desperate, albeit futile, attempt to hold back screams while the other griped his shirt anew, unable to handle the pleasure your mouth conditioned him with.

His beautiful moans and hitched breaths spurring you on as you quickened your ministries. You could feel the wetness dripping from your neglected sex, unable to deny the effects his pleas had on you.

"Cum for me Kitten" you said breathlessly, before returning to suck on his length with newly found determination.

That was seemingly all the permission Felix needed, making his walls of fragile attempt to restrain come crashing down before your very eyes. Cumming with the most deliciously sinful broken moans you had ever heard.

His orgasm sent electricity flowing through every nerve, muscles flexing and relaxing by their own accord as pearls of sweat dripped from his temples, down to his chiseled pecks. White flashes of hot bliss washing over him in waves. Cock twitching violently, coating your mouth with stripes of warm, delectable release.

You sucked him through his high, making sure to milk every last drop of his essence before swallowing, unwilling to let any of his delicious nectar go to waste.

You stood from your kneeling position, legs a tad shaky from the tiring position and carpeted concrete. You used your thumb to wipe the corner of your mouth, before licking it clean.

Felix looked at your suggestive move, lingering chock and exhaustion from his intensive release, apparent on his stunning features.

He looked like he was going to cum again, cock unrelentingly hard, twitching as a result of your blatant display of insatiable lust.

"Thanks for the meal, Kitten." You winked before leaving to get your things.

What the fuck did I just do?

***

Thank you so much for reading my fic. Please let me know if you enjoyed it by reblogging and liking my post. Be sure to let me know if you'd like a part two.

Stay dark my friends.

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xiihyunn · 1 year ago

Text

Sam Carpenter Drabble (18+)

a/n: a lengthy drabble, this was a request :) my requests are now closed.

Imagine Sam finding out you went to a frat party she specifically told you and Tara not to go to, and then she finds you wearing a scandalous outfit.

> masterlist

—

Losing yourself to the beat and rhythm of the blasting music, you sway your hip with a huge smile on your face, as Tara smiled and danced with you.

Closing your eyes to the blinding disco colored lights, you felt Tara moving her body to stand behind you, pressing her front onto your back.

You smiled as Tara looped her hand around exposed stomach, and your intoxicated state was getting the best of you. Feeling Tara's mouth on your ear, she whispers ever so slightly.

"Are you enjoying this, Y/n?"

Giggling at her ticklish breath, you pushed your shoulders into her front. "So much, yes Tar." You felt her smiling against your ear lobe, and continued dancing to the music.

But then suddenly a rough touch pulls you towards a towering figure. The music covered your scream, as your face landed flat on a pair of broad shoulders.

"Shit—!"

"What do you think you're doing here?"

Hearing Sam's stern voice, you snap your head up and meet her fuming eyes. You opened your mouth to say something, but you saw her eyes flicker down to your body.

Sam's jaw clenches as she surveys your costume. A fitted red crop top that made your tits pop out, a red skirt that barely covered your ass, and a small little chain wrapping around your curves.

"Fuck, Sam I-I just wanted to have fun a bit. I know I said I wouldn't, but plea—"

The taller girl ignored your words, as she dragged you outside. Hissing in pain, when you felt your girlfriend's grip on your wrist tighten even more.

Shoving you on the nearby wall, Sam crosses her arms in front of her, her eyes staring into your soul. Some how your brain sobered up, realizing you're fucked.

"Seriously Y/n? Out of everyone, you choose to dry hump my younger sister?"

"That's the reason why it was Tara! Would you have loved it if she left me alone for some random dude to shove his hard-on between my ass?"

Sam scoffs, "I told you not to go to this party. What do you think I would feel if something bad happened to you huh?"

"I'm fine, alright? I'm fine and standing in front of you, not harmed."

Ignoring your aching muscle on your back, you were ready to leave and go to Sam's car. Fixing your limp posture, you were about to walk away when Sam grabbed your forearm, and slammed you back against the wall with her strong figure pressing against you.

Groaning in pain, you felt Sam's hands resting on your waist, as your hand moved on its own to lay them against her shoulders.

Sam's face inches away from yours, she looks down at your lips.

"You're such a fucking whore. Look at you wearing this slutty devil's costume, you're pathetic."

You bite your lip feeling flushed by what came out of your girlfriend's mouth, as Sam's leg settles itself between your thighs, pressing her leg muscles into your clothe pussy.

Sam licks her lips, wetting them before pressing rough kisses on your neck. You let out a whimper under the cold air, trying to push her off, but only for Sam to lift her leg into your hot cunt.

A familiar heat appears on your stomach, as you were beginning to tip on your toes when Sam didn't show any signs of stopping her legs movements.

You let out a moan, Sam sucking on your sweet spot, and gravity pushing you further to her leg. Gripping into her shoulders, you felt your pussy convulsing, as your juices seeped out of your hole.

"Sam,"

Releasing her lips off your exposed skin with a loud pop, Sam looks down at you with a smirk.

"You're drenched down there sweetheart, do you want mommy to take care of that for you?"

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter smuts #scream #scream smuts #jenna ortega #melissa barrera #melissa barrera x reader #melissa barrera smuts #xiihyunn

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sosa2imagines · 3 months ago

Text

You, me and Vegas! Part 15

Warning- Fluff, pure fun.

Truth was, as much as Peach enjoyed the attention from Andy and the thrill of teasing him, deep down, all she really wanted was Bucky.

Yes, Andy was handsome, polite and sweet, but he was not the man she loved. Her heart belonged to Bucky, and nothing was going to change that.

She clearly remembers, the first night of sharing the bed, after living together for so many days. Bucky was nervous about it and Peach had to reassure him, they are just sharing a bed nothing more is going to happen.

That was her Bucky, the shy, noble and respective of people's personal space.

Peach oblivious to Andy's true intention, only flirted with him, just to distract herself from the hurt. Bucky not standing up for her, his asshole parents and her own realization that she had fallen in love with him.

Andy, meanwhile, was struggling more and more to keep his facade up, as he continued his stalling tactics.

Bucky veered the car off the main road and onto the sidewalk, much to Steve's horror.

“What are you doing?!” Steve yelled, his grip on the seat tightening even more. “You're on the sidewalk!!!”

“Relax,” Bucky said, weaving the car through the pedestrians on the sidewalk. “It's a short cut. We'll get to city hall much faster this way.”

“We're gonna cause an accident, or run over someone!” Steve protested, but Bucky ignored him. He only had one thing on his mind - getting to city hall and stopping Peach from signing the papers.

They were almost there now, the city hall in view. Bucky pushed the gas pedal harder, the car jolting forward. Steve closed his eyes, muttering silent prayers for their safety.

And then suddenly, there was a sharp noise, followed by a jolt. Bucky and Steve were thrown forward in their seats as the car came to a grinding halt. Bucky's heart sank as he realized what had happened.

“Oh no,” he muttered, his voice filled with dread. “Please, no...”

Steve opened his eyes, looking around confused. “What happened?” he asked, still trying to calm down from the previous adrenaline rush.

“We hit something...” Bucky said, unbuckling his seat belt and getting out of the car. Steve followed suit, both men rushing to the front to see what they had hit.

When they reached the front of the car, Bucky's fears were confirmed. Laying motionless on the hood of the car was a stray cat that Bucky hadn't seen in time to avoid. Its body was limp, eyes staring lifelessly ahead.

Just as Bucky was about to mourn over the poor cat, Steve looked closer and realized something. “Wait, Bucky,” he said, gesturing towards the cat. “Look.”

Bucky turned his gaze back to the cat, seeing what Steve saw now. Its body was unnaturally stiff and rigid. It looked more like a toy than a real cat.

A young boy approached them, his arms crossed defiantly. “What do you think you're doing?” he demanded, his voice full of anger. “That's my cat.”

Bucky looked down at the child, who was no more than eight years old. He glanced back at the toy cat on the hood of the car. “Is this yours?”

The boy nodded, his cute chubby face still angry. “Of course, it's mine!” he said, as if Bucky was the dumbest person on the planet.

Bucky crouched down to the boy's eye level, trying to calm him down. “Look, I'm really sorry,” he said, his voice sincere. “I didn't see the cat. It was an accident. Please let us go. It's an emergency.”

The boy just stuck out his tongue defiantly. “You're not going anywhere...” he said firmly.

Bucky was starting to get frustrated, but he knew he had to keep his cool. He looked back to Steve, who was standing awkwardly to the side, watching the scene unfold.

“Steve,” Bucky said, his voice strained. “A little help here?”

Steve tried, really tried to explain the kid, but the kid was adamant, not to let them go. Seeing their time getting wasted, Bucky looked at Steve.

Steve could see the gears turning in Bucky's head, and he knew that look all too well. He had a habit of coming up with hare-brained schemes when things seemed impossible. Steve shook his head furiously, silently pleading with Bucky not to do anything stupid.

Bucky got back into the driver's seat and started the car again, while Steve slid into the backseat next to the boy, who was still holding his toy cat. Steve shot Bucky a look that said ‘this is not happening.’

Bucky just smirked, flooring the gas pedal and driving off. The car lurched forward, causing the boy to grab onto Steve tightly.

Bucky stomped on the gas pedal, the car lurching forward. Steve was now in the backseat, trying to console the still grumpy boy who was clutching his toy cat in his lap.

“Bucky, slow down a bit!” Steve protested from the backseat. “We have the kid with us now!”

Bucky just gritted his teeth, his focus solely on the road. “We have no time for caution,” he repeated, his voice tight. “Peach is waiting and we need to get there as fast as possible.”

“Bucky, we can't just kidnap a kid!” Steve protested, looking at the boy who was now sulking in the backseat.

Bucky just shrugged. “It's for the greater good,” he said, making a sharp turn. “We need to get to city hall, and this is the only way. Sorry kid, but we're bringing you along for the ride.”

The boy just huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don't like you.” he muttered, glaring at Bucky.

Steve sighed, rubbing his temples. This was not how he had imagined their mad dash to city hall to go.

Back at city hall, Peach felt like Bucky won’t come. The papers were laid out in front of her, and all she needed was to sign.

“Come on, Andy,” she urged, tapping her fingers on the desk. “Can I please sign them already?”

Sensing that he was running out of time and excuses, Andy did what he thought was the last resort. He quickly got up from his chair and walked around the desk to where Peach was sitting. Without warning, he enveloped her in a tight hug.

Peach was startled by the unexpected physical contact, but quickly softened into the hug. She wrapped her arms around Andy, surprised by his sudden change in attitude.

“What's this for?” she asked, looking up at him in confusion.

“I... I just needed to give you a hug,” Andy said, struggling to keep his voice steady. His mind was racing, trying to come up with a believable excuse. “You just... seem a little down. I thought a nice hug would cheer you up a bit.”

Meanwhile, in the car, the tension was mounting. Steve was still trying to keep the kid calm in the backseat, while Bucky was driving as fast as he dared through the crowded streets. The boy was still glaring at Bucky, holding his toy cat tightly.

“How much farther?” Steve asked, his voice taut.

Bucky just glanced at the road, his eyes fixed on the city hall building in the distance. “Almost there,” he replied. “Just a few more minutes.”

In city hall, Andy was still hugging Peach. He could feel her breathing on his shoulder, and his heart was racing like a drum. He knew he had to keep stalling, but how much longer could he keep this up?

“You really do give good hugs,” Peach murmured, her voice slightly muffled against his jacket. “I didn't expect you to be the touchy-feely type, though.”

“Yeah, well, we all have our secrets...” Andy replied, trying to keep his voice casual. He loosened his grip on her slightly, but didn't let go completely, still trying to buy time.

Just as things began to feel even more awkward between Andy and Peach, a loud voice rang out, cutting through the tension like a knife.

“Hands off my WIFE, BARBER!!”

Peach's eyes widened as she recognized the voice. Bucky had finally arrived at city hall and he looked furious.

Steve and the kid were trailing behind Bucky, struggling to keep up with his long stride. The kid was still clutching his toy cat, his face filled with curiosity.

“Bucky, wait up!” Steve called after him.

Bucky ignored Steve's plea and stormed into the office, his eyes locked onto Andy, who was now scurrying away like a frightened mouse.

“That's right, run, you little weasel!” Bucky yelled aloud, lunging forward with a swiftness that belied his large frame.

Andy let out a panicked scream and darted across the room, trying desperately to escape Bucky's wrath. He jumped over desks, dodged chairs, and even leaped over the watercooler, all in an attempt to evade the angry Bucky.

Bucky continued his relentless pursuit, knocking over chairs and desks as he went. He was like a bull in a china shop, causing chaos wherever he went. Meanwhile, the kid and Steve were watching the whole scene unfold in stunned amazement.

Just when it seemed like Bucky might catch up to Andy, Peach suddenly stepped in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Bucky, stop!” she yelled. “What are you doing?”

Bucky froze, his eyes going from Andy, who was now hidden behind a potted plant, to Peach, who was looking up at him. Her expression was a mix of shock and concern.

“What do you mean, 'what am I doing?'” he sputtered, his voice still filled with anger. “This weasel was trying to make moves on my wife, on you!”

Peach's eyes widened in shock. “Andy? Making moves on me?” she repeated, a frown appearing on her face. “You can't seriously think that. Sure he flirted a bit, but the hug was genuine.”

Bucky's face darkened at the mention of the hug. “That's what I'm talking about!” he snarled, pointing in Andy's direction. “He was holding you, touching you, flirting with you. I won't stand for it!”

Peach stepped forward, her hands on her hips. “But why, Bucky?” she demanded, her voice firm. “Why does it bother you so much that he hugged me, that he was nice to me?”

Bucky's face twisted in a scowl. “Why do you think, Peach?” he said, his voice rising in volume. “Because I love you, damn it! I love you and I don't want anyone else touching you!”

Peach couldn't believe what she was hearing. Bucky's confession had blindsided her, taking her by complete surprise. Her heart began to race as she processed his words, her mind reeling.

She had thought, that her feelings for Bucky were one-sided. She had never imagined that he could return her feelings. But here he was, confessing his love in the middle of a chaotic city hall office.

Peach crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes locking onto Bucky's. “Why didn't you say this before?” she asked, her voice firm. “Why didn't you stand up for me last night? And where were you this morning?”

Bucky winced at the question. “I...I was scared, okay?” he mumbled, his tone a mixture of embarrassment and shame. “I was scared of losing you, of saying it wrong, of making a fool of myself.”

Bucky took a deep breath, his eyes meeting Peach's. “My parents,” he said, his voice heavy with resignation. “They've always been so hard on me, so hard on us. They have this idea of how I should live my life, and anything that differs from that, is seen as a disappointment. Standing up to them, even if it's for you, is like jumping into a lion's den barehanded.”

Bucky's expression softened a bit as he spoke, recalling his morning. “I was at my parents' house,” he said, his voice softer now. “We had a huge argument... about us. They don't approve of our friendship, of you. They wanted me to marry Dot! Can you believe it? ‘The prefers toilet for sex woman!’ But I finally stood up to them. I told them that we're together, that we're happy. And I even admitted that we got drunk married. And I have told them to never ever interfere in my life!”

Peach's eyes widened in disbelief. “You...stood up to your parents?” she repeated, her voice full of surprise and pride. “For real?”

Bucky nodded, a hint of a smile appearing on his lips. “For real,” he confirmed. “I told them that I love you, and I don't care what they think. I'm tired of living under their shadow, of letting them dictate my life.”

Bucky was on a roll now, the words tumbling out of him like a waterfall. He was on a mission to let Peach know how he felt, and he wasn't gonna let her get a word in edgewise.

“I'm tired of hiding my feelings,” he continued, his voice taking on a passionate note. “I'm tired of pretending like I don't care about you. I love you, Peach and I'm not gonna let anyone get in the way of that. Not my parents, not Andy, not anyone.”

Just as Bucky was gearing up for the next tirade, Peach suddenly stepped forward and silenced him with a kiss. Her lips met his, and she felt him melt into the kiss, all the tension and pent up energy leaving his body.

“Bucky,” she whispered, pulling back from the kiss just enough to speak. “I love you too, you big goof. Now relax and breathe.”

Bucky opened his eyes, staring down at Peach in a daze. “You...love me?” he repeated, as if he couldn't quite believe it. “Even after all the chaos I just caused?”

Peach chuckled, a soft smile on her face. “Especially after all the chaos you just caused,” she said, her fingers tracing the lines of his face. “It's kind of endearing, in a crazy, feral sort of way.”

Bucky's expression turned sheepish, a blush creeping up his neck. “You think I'm endearing when I'm feral?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, because that's what makes you, you...now who's the kid?”

Bucky reluctantly wrenched his gaze away from Peach and gestured to the kid, who was still clutching his toy cat and watching the spectacle unfold with wide eyes.

“That's just a kid we met on the way here,” Bucky explained, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “He's been tagging along.”

Just as Bucky finished speaking, the kid suddenly piped up, his voice filled with outrage. “No!” he protested, gesturing to the toy cat in his hand. “He crashed his car on my cat!”

Bucky immediately groaned, rolling his eyes. “Kid, it's just a toy,” he said, his patience wearing thin.

“But it's my cat!” the kid protested, holding the toy closer to his chest. “You crashed into it with your car!”

Bucky looked like he was on the verge of exploding, but Peach stepped in once again, her hand on his arm. “Okay, okay, let's all calm down,” she said, her voice soothing. You must be Steve? Nice to meet you.”

Steve, who had been watching the whole scene unfold with a mixture of amusement and confusion, finally spoke up. “Uh, yeah, I'm Steve,” he said, offering a tentative wave. “Nice to meet you too.”

Steve, looking a bit flushed at being suddenly addressed by Peach, quickly recounted the situation, explaining how he had asked Andy to stall for time, and how the hug was simply part of the ploy.

Andy, meanwhile, collapsed onto the nearby chair, a look of sheer relief on his face. He let out an exhausted sigh, grateful that the whole misunderstanding had finally been cleared up.

Peach listened intently, a small smile playing on her lips. Bucky, still holding her waist, grumbled under his breath.

Bucky, still grumbling, mumbled something about still not liking Andy. But Peach just elbowed him gently, her eyes sparkling with humor. “Bucky, relax,” she said, patting his hand on her hip. “No harm done.”

Bucky begrudgingly acquiesced, but his scowl didn't fully disappear. He kept a watchful eye on Andy, just to make sure there were no further antics.

Peach rolled her eyes at his protectiveness, but secretly found it endearing.

Part 14 - Part 16

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