#took like less than 15 minutes

[shiniestcrow]

"So, Sage," Astarion says, emphasising their name in a way that almost screams mischief, "I hate to pry but I am terribly curious."

Sage snorts. "You only hate other people prying into your business not the other way around."

Astarion shrugs, unrepentant. "Fair enough. So, tell me, darling, did your parents actually give you that name or did you pick it out yourself?"

Oh. Sage looks up. Everyone else is now also paying attention. Oh, this will be fun. For them. Not for the others. Because that's what you get for prying.

They shrug. "Neither. I dunno what my parents named me. A girl at the... "orphanage" I stayed at for a while gave me my name." They stand up, stretching their arms over their head. Making it obvious that they're tired and about to go to sleep. "Her ma used to burn sage to make herself feel better. The owner of the place had a similar habit."

They turn away before their words fully sink in. They don't need to see the others' faces.

"Aw, that's-" Karlach starts. Stops. "Hold on. Do you mean..."

Sage starts walking towards their bedroll.

"What the fuck?!"

"Goodnight," Sage calls over their shoulder. No need to hide their grim smile when no one can see it. They can feel it pulling at the burn scar stretching across their face.

[hinamie]

- wip -

talk shit get hit itfs panel redraw fr the soul

[averlym]

ghost story premiere day! check @melliotwrites for more info

[timeisacephalopod]

This winter (the season not the me) has been unseasonably and terrifyingly warm, like it's 10 degrees (Celsius sorry Americans) out today and I'm reminded of an article I read in the news a couple years ago about how Canada was baking at twice the rate as the rest of the world and go 👁️👄👁️. In my youth snow where I live would be probably a foot high in the lowest snow areas of snow drifts and up to my waist (in adult height) in the high parts, and every year I see less and less snow ☠️☠️☠️

On one hand despite my namesake I actually loathe the season winter, I'm extremely sensitive to the cold and getting brain freeze because the wind is blowing against the direction you're walking in sucks booty hole. But like NO snow is extremely bad. VERY bad. Do not like living out the consequences of climate change because uh. Canada just does not seem to have winters like it used to and hasn't in years. It's like watching all the corn crops stop growing like they used to because the summers are so much dryer and hotter with the exception of last summer, which was almost wet enough to kill the corn with that. But they survived and grew bushy like they used to and it was kind of terrifying to acknowledge I hadn't seen a crop that good in years.

[extervus]

Okay that was the fastest and least complicated filling I've ever had maybe I should start driving four and a half hours for fillings lmao

[ternaryflower53]

you know, i truly do not understand why people go "i thought this would be easier than it is!!" during contact lens trainings

you are literally trying to hold your eyelids super wide open to poke your eye. also you're not wearing your glasses as you do it so you probably can't see. why would this be easy

[diari0deglierrori]

Receiving a little dose of sweet message from no one but your conseiller clientèle will do the job for today

[atypi-cals]

one fucked up thing about me is that most things I ingest don't work horribly well on me? the exception is things I can drink, like booze. but like. weed edibles barely do a thing to me. mushrooms do a bit but I cant get properly high on them. one time I was in a lot of pain and someone gave me a perc and it I genuinely think an ibuprofen would have been as effective.

[exopelagic]

ohhhh my supervisor is so sick of me

[arolesbianism]

You guys know not of the catastrophic squid sisters brainrot going on in my head rn

[sugarwarachan]

sex pollen troubles - ft. k. bakugou

summary: prohero!Bakugou gets hit with a sex quirk. too bad his roommate hates him—right?

wc: 1.8k

pairing: prohero!Katstuki Bakugou x roommate!reader

content warnings: MDNI, Bakogou has a roommate because his therapist tells him to, fem!reader is an investigative journalist, gratuitous use of Ace (hello gilmore girls fans) idiot Katsuki, pining Katsuki, fingerless gloves make an appearance sorry not sorry, making out, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names like baby, pretty girl, princess, breeding but only if you squint

a/n: word vomited this out in less than 24 hrs

He’s praying you don’t pick up.

“Bakugou?” You sound annoyed, a little suspicious even.

He never calls you.

“Ace.” You hate that nickname, but the thought of saying your actual name in the desperate growl that is his voice right now makes his head spin. “I need - fuck - are you home right now?”

Sex quirks are a dime a dozen these days. He’s been hit with a few before, simple one that are usually pretty easy to shake. (He still hates the premature ejaculate memory, though, coming home with his boxers stiff and an image of you spread out on his bed playing like a film in his head. He hadn't been able to look you in the eyes for weeks.)

He’s never been hit with one as strong as this. The second the mist hit his nostrils he was huffing up the scent of vanilla and citrus and strong black coffee, just the way you like it, before he realized what was happening, the villain ripping down the street in the opposite direction while arousal hit him like a truck.

Bakugou's practically doubled over talking to you now, the ache in his dick throbbing in time with his fucking heartbeat.

“Yeah, I’m home.” Even annoyed you sound like heaven. “What’s going on? You don’t sound like yourself.”

He barks out a laugh, and before he knows it, he's telling you the truth. “Got hit with a sex quirk. A big one.”

Your breath bitches slightly on the other line. He’s pretty sure his cock jumps at the sound.

“And I - " need you right fucking now - “fuck - I can’t call anyone else.”

It has to be you. He’s got women he could call, sure, anyone who might want to get into a pro hero’s pants, but it has to be you for a reason he doesn’t want to look at too closely.

You’re silent for a beat, before you say, “Send me a pin. I’ll come get you.”

He hated you at first. Always talking his ear off about every fucking thing, bringing up articles that remind you of cases you're covering—it was like living with Deku dialed up to 11.

But what he hated even worse was when you stopped talking. When you realized he wasn’t actually gonna come around and be nice to you, when you figured out, oh fuck, he’s actually just an angry prick, and left him alone.

One day he could count on constant chatter when he was back from patrol, the next, nothing at all. You even switched up your schedule so he barely saw you, a fact he didn’t tell his court-ordered therapist because he was supposed to be getting better at being around other people, not worse.

He hates remembering this now with his dick hard as steel and weeping from the tip like he’s fucking 15. The alley is secluded, thank fuck, so no one can see him shaking and groaning, forearms braced on the wall in front of him, head hanging down like a panting dog. He can barely move; every brush of his pants against his erection like a live wire to the brain.

By the time you pull up—five minutes, forty six seconds later, he counted—he’s so frayed and tense that the minute he sees your face, he shouts, “Took you fucking long enough."

Your face shutters closed the way it always does around him, and he wants to fucking die.

“Fuck, Ace, I’m sorry - it’s just, I’m fucking miserable right now - "

“Why did you call me, Katsuki?”

It’s a mistake to look you in the eye. His restraint is a razor’s edge at this point, and seeing your beautiful face is too much. You've always been pretty, but the light shining on your soft hair is convincing him he can write fucking poetry all of a sudden.

“You know why,” he grits out.

You step forward, vanilla and citrus and coffee flooding his nose.

“No, I don’t. You act like you fucking hate me half the time and ignore me the rest.” You scrape a hand across your face in frustration. “And then you call me sounding like that. Why wouldn't I be confused?"

“I want you.” It’s out of his mouth in a flash, and he knows it’s the right thing to say by the way your shoulders relax. “I’m a fucking asshole, I know it. I’m not good at feelings, baby, I'm sorry, but I want you so fucking bad it’s like I could break my teeth over it. It has to be you, Ace, fuck, I’m sorry, it can’t be anyone else - "

You shut him up your mouth, your lips locking into his as both of your noses bump against each other. He doesn’t care; he just needs you as close to him as he can get you. It’s better than anything he imagined, finally touching you, finally giving in to the attraction that’s dogged him ever since you walked into his life.

You taste like coffee and a little bit of that strawberry lip gloss he loves so much. He licks into the seam of your mouth and relishes the shiver that goes through your body.

“Like that, baby?” He breaks away, nosing at your jaw, nipping at the juncture of your throat. That makes you gasp. “You smell so fucking good here.” He jerks his hips, hisses through his teeth as his cock jumps in his pants, pulsing with need.

“Let me,” he hears you say, and you’re tugging his pants open to get your hand around him. The second your fingers wrap around him his eyes roll up in his head. He could cum just from this, he realizes.

“Of course you’d have a pretty dick,” you say with a look of annoyance, and he’s not entirely sure what to say to that besides puff up his chest. You laugh, and it’s almost fond, and goddammit he wants you more than he’s ever wanted anything else -

With a growl, he pulls your hand away and backs you up against the wall, peppering kisses down your neck. The whines he’s pulling from your mouth is making everything in his life worth it. He’d fight a thousand fucking villains if it meant this, fingering the seam of your panties under your little skirt as you cry out for more.

“Wear this for me?”

“Like fucking hell I did,” you retort.

“Sure thing, princess.” He runs the pad of two fingers over the soaking wet seam of your panties. A feral grin passes over his face as your thighs tremble and press together. “This just happened to you all on your own?”

He roughly pulls your panties to the side to gather up the slick at your entrance, pushing your hips apart and settling himself between them.

“You’ve gotta come first, pretty girl.” You like when he calls you pet names; he’s been watching the way your skin breaks down out in goosebumps each time. It’s a like a drug being this close to you, making you feel this good. “The second I’m inside ya I’m gonna blow my fucking load so be good and come for me, yeah?”

The rough material of his fingerless gloves rubs against your clit as he stuffs two fingers in your pussy. Your little hole sucks him in greedily as you whine and buck against him.

“Harder, Kats, please - you won’t fucking break me - "

He adds another finger to stretch you out, keeping his palm rocking against your pubic bone with every grind. You’re fluttering around his fingers, whimpers echoing off the walls in the alley.

“That’s it, baby, there you go. Fuck, yeah, you like me stuffing this pretty pussy full?” You dig your nails into his scalp as you hold onto him for dear life, whimpers ratcheting up to moans and cut-off screams as he starts to feel your cunt clamp down hard on him.

You moan his name against his neck as you cum. “Just needed to think about me stuffing you full?” He can’t help but smirk, which quickly turns into a hissing groan when your hand finds him again and positions him right at your core.

“I could say the same for you,” you smirk, rolling your hips and coating the head of his cock in the slick of your orgasm. He chokes on his spit, bracing one forearm on the wall behind you, his free hand stilling your hips in place.

“Lift me up,” you pout.

“Didn’t know you were bossy.”

“Didn’t think you would like it,” you shoot back, rolling down onto his cock and taking an inch of him inside you. “This position’s better, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is, you devil woman.” He can barely think. “Baby, I don’t - god fucking damn it - I don’t have any - "

“I’m on birth control and I’m clean.”

“Same. Clean, too, I mean.” He’s rambling. He never rambles. “I’ve got my check-up stats in my phone if you’d like to see them.”

You laugh, and it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard in his entire life.

“Can I kiss you?”

It takes him aback, but he’s been dying to know what you taste like since he met you, honestly.

“Yeah, pretty girl. You can kiss me.” He nips at your mouth and laughs at your pout when he pulls away. “Let me get all the way inside ya though first, huh?”

He feeds you his dick inch by inch, clenching his teeth at the way you squirm and plead for more. You’re slippery and warm, your cunt making obscene squelching noises with every rock of his hips.

With one final thrust, he’s seated up to the hilt, balls slapping against the meat of your thighs and ass.

“So fucking perfect,” he moans in your ear. “All for me - just for me, isn’t that right, Ace?”

Your head jerks up and down in affirmation.

“Say it, pretty girl. Say you’re fucking mine. Tell me how much you like my dick getting this pussy nice and tight. Bet I can get her to scream again, huh?”

He pinches your clit between two fingers. You jerk in his arms.

“Close, princess? Like it a little mean?”

He rocks his his up so he’s dragging the head of his cock across your g spot, over and over. Your eyes roll back in your head and your breathing gets shallower, shorter.

“Please please don’t fucking stop, ohmygodohmygod feels so fucking good, Kats- "

Your pussy clamps down on him like a vice and all rhythm flies out the window. He grabs the meat of your hips and fucks up into you roughly, shooting thick ropes of cum against your cervix.

The creamy sticky ring at the base of his cock when he pulls out is probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his life.

He looks up at you, sees the appreciative gleam in your eye. You're turned on by that, too.

“Can we do this again when we’re home?” he asks. “Maybe after I’ve made you dinner?”

The smile you return is like the sun. “We better.”

[jmin]

every day I spend with my nieces is a day to reinforce my desire of never having kids of my own amen

[aureatelys]

red light kiss

pairing: aaron hotchner/fem!bau!reader rating: explicit w.c. : 4k a/n: the vest stays on

c.w.: 18+ MDNI PLSSSS, porn no plot, blowjobs in car!!!, newly established relationship, d/s undertones, some dirty talk and degradation, one hint of sir kink, reader has hair?, no y/n, size kink if you squint

summary:

You haven't had sex in a week, you're stuck in the car with your new boyfriend/boss, and he's wearing that damn Kevlar vest. How could you resist?

read below or on ao3 here <3

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You watch with dread as the train inches to a stop several feet in front of you. It was already going horribly slow for the past 15 minutes, taking so long that Hotch even took his foot off the brake and put the car in park. There’s been a line of cars piling behind you, a medium on your left, and a field that goes nowhere on your right, so it’s not like you could escape even if you wanted to.

The team was currently in a small college town in Texas investigating a string of murders happening on campus, leaving the entire population of less than 5,000 on edge. You and Hotch were on the way to question a professor that lived only a couple blocks away from the campus with an old rap sheet a mile long. You honestly hoped that he would be good for it so you guys could go the fuck home.

“Relax,” Hotch murmured, putting a comforting hand on your knee while he called the rest of the team at the station to let them know you two were going to be stuck for a while and to have another pair go out to the professor’s house.

You understand that Hotch was trying to help put you at ease since you’ve been cranky all day. Scratch that, you’ve been cranky the past 3 days. It’s not your fault that the BAU was called on your Saturday off, especially when you planned to spend that day off in bed with your boss.

It had taken a while for you and Hotch to get your act together after gradually crossing that professional boundary. The past 6 months consisted of late-night dinners in Hotch’s office, going to the park with him and Jack on the weekends, and mind-blowing orgasms on possibly every surface in Hotch’s apartment.

You’re not sure when the lines had started blurring for you. Maybe that one day you came into Hotch’s office for dinner after a particularly brutal case and ordered from your favorite Thai restaurant despite everything on their menu being too spicy for him. Or maybe it was when you saw the wide smile adorning his face when Jack scored the winning goal at a soccer game, making him look younger. Or maybe it was when he told you you looked beautiful while you were riding his cock in the darkness of his bedroom, his hands pressing bruises into your hips, and the moonlight strewing in from the curtains illuminating the awe in his eyes.

Only several weeks ago did Hotch properly ask you out to dinner and it’s like everything changed. Suddenly, the glances across the bullpen meant something different, something sweeter. Now, you can be affectionate without fearing Hotch wouldn’t reciprocate. Now, he’s touchier— touching the small of your back when he walks by, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear when you’re having dinner in his office, or pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before you fall asleep on his chest.

It's new and you’re still adjusting. However, it definitely hasn’t stopped the sex.

So, your Saturday plans with Hotch got ruined, that’s fine. It wasn’t like the team had just gotten back from a week-long case and you had barely tumbled into bed with Hotch when his phone rang. And you haven’t even had the chance for a quickie in the hotel, both of you too tired and passing out before even thinking of sneaking in each other’s rooms.

You’re cranky because you haven’t gotten laid in almost a week and you work with possibly the hottest man alive and today, he’s wearing one of your top 3 hottest outfits he’s ever worn.

Your third favorite outfit is his green button-up with the sleeves rolled up, often paired with black jeans. The first time you saw him pull that out for date night, hair perfectly gelled down and sleeves rolled up his wide forearms, you had missed your dinner reservations because you were too busy on your knees in the middle of the doorway. He just looked so good wearing dark green— the way it complemented his complexion, and even better when he wore those tight jeans that made your eyes bug out of your head.

Your second favorite outfit was more intimate—a faded GWU shirt that was starting to stretch over Hotch’s shoulders and gray sweatpants that definitely left little to the imagination. At times, this combination felt straight up pornographic, especially if Hotch was relaxing on the couch, legs spread with his arms stretched behind his head. It felt like a siren call, and you fell for it every single time.

But Hotch right now, not only wearing a plain black tee that stretched over his chest, but also his Kevlar vest, was your most favorite outfit of them all.

You didn’t know why it was your favorite. You see Hotch wearing his Kevlar vest almost twice a week, usually over a white dress shirt, and it doesn’t distract you as much as this specific combination does.

Maybe it’s because you’ve always been a sucker for Hotch’s arms, as you stare at the way he has them stretched out lazily with his wrists resting on the steering wheel, muscles bulging. Or maybe it’s the way the vest hugs him so tightly it makes him look even broader, makes him stand up straighter and appear more confident. Or maybe it’s because Hotch inevitably starts sweating not even 10 minutes after the vest is on due to the constricting material, making his chest heave and sweat form at his forehead. You wear your vest just as often as he does, and you know for a fact that you don’t look as insanely sexy he does.

“Are you okay?”

You blink, brain brought back to reality, feeling a rising heat to your face and down to your stomach. You bring your gaze up from where you were ogling his jean-clad thighs to Hotch staring down at you in amusement. “Yep, why wouldn’t I be? We’ve just been stuck behind this train for hours.”

Hotch cracks a smile at that. It makes your chest tighten. “It hasn’t even been 30 minutes, don’t be so dramatic.”

You lean over to swat at his arm playfully and definitely not an attempt to quickly cop a feel. “How dare you! I’m never dramatic.”

Hotch huffs a laugh at that, used to your antics by now. “Morgan and Reid are already on their way to the Thompson house so we may as well relax.”

Someone several cars down honks, causing Hotch to twist his upper body as best as he could in the vest to look back incredulously, as if they could see him through the tinted windows. You’re suddenly enraptured by the sharp cut of his jaw and the line of his throat. “People here have no patience,” he remarks.

An idea slowly forms in your mind. Not only is it in the middle of the night, but the county-issued SUV that you were in had tinted windows the same strength as the ones back home. No one at the police station was expecting you since they knew you were trapped behind the train and it’s not like you brought any files or your laptop to continue bouncing around ideas about the case.

You watch thoughtfully as Hotch shifts in his seat, adjusting the vest to sit a bit more comfortably. How could you resist?

“I have an idea,” you say, feigning nonchalance.

Hotch’s eyes flit to you, eyes narrowing because, like you said, he knows you by now. “And what idea is that?”

“I can suck you off?”

You watch in delight as Hotch’s eyebrows raise, a flush rising up his neck. He clears his throat, knuckles tightening on the steering wheel, before saying almost breathlessly “And what makes you think I’ll let you?”

You know you’ve already gotten him, that he’s already going to let you go down on him. He wouldn’t be shifting in his seat if he wasn’t. Any other day, he would’ve turned you down instantly, a reprimand telling you to at least pretend to be professional at the tip of his tongue. If you’re sexually frustrated, he must be at least ten times hornier since his libido has always been worse than yours.

“Well, our weekend plans got ruined and this is the first time we’ve been alone in over a week,” you sigh, leaning over the console as gracefully as you could with the vest weighing you down to put your hand on his, running your fingertips up his forearms. “And I miss you.”

A smile quirks at the corner of Hotch’s mouth. “We work together.”

You roll your eyes, letting your fingers trace the veins decorating his arms. God, he’s so hot. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” Hotch says, softly, watching you with a gaze so fond that it makes you want to cry. “That doesn’t mean you need to suck my cock while we’re on the job.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. Hotch is only vulgar like that in the privacy of the bedroom, knowing how much it gets you off when he’s muttering in your ear about how good you take his cock. The contrast of his soft gaze and lewd words has you shifting in your seat now, thighs rubbing together at the sudden onslaught of heat between them. You’re really about to do this.

“You just look really good in that vest,” you whisper, feeling a twinge of embarrassment.

Hotch hums, leaning back in the seat and moving his hips down. His right arm comes up to stretch out and rest his hand behind your headrest, watching you with dark eyes, almost beckoning you. “So that’s what’s got you all hot and bothered.”

“Yes,” you exhale, already feeling that familiar glaze over your brain. You glance down curiously at his lap and your mouth waters when you see the outline of his half-hard dick through his jeans, undoubtedly uncomfortable because all of his jeans are unfairly tight. “Can I?”

“Come here first.” His hand comes up to cradle your jaw, an action that’s lately been making you weak in the knees. He’s been clingier lately, pressing his lips to any part of you he can take, and you know what he’s asking for, his neck craned and his eyes zeroing in on your mouth.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and nearly bang your knee against the console when you lean over more to kiss him, something tender and gentle despite the way you desperately want to clamber over to sit on his lap. He tastes like cheap coffee and something inexplicably Aaron, warm and soothing, that makes you part your lips to deepen the kiss. His mouth is so soft, yet he kisses you in a way that’s all consuming, heady. His hold on your jaw tightens before sliding down your neck, and the way it would be so easy for him to take a hold of you there makes you dizzy.

When you pull away, he’s watching you with that fond look that’s been making more of an appearance recently. “Now can I?”

There’s that smile with your favorite dimple again, barely detectable even from the dashboard lights and the flashing railroad stop signs. “Yes,” Aaron says, exasperatedly.

You situate yourself with your knees on your seat, your own vest digging into your chest when you lean down lower, so your face is nearly in his lap. He doesn’t even need to move his seat back, his long legs already making him sit ridiculously far from the wheel, leaving you with enough breathing room.

You press your palm against his cock over his jeans and you preen a little when you feel a click in his throat before he clears it. He unbuckles his seatbelt and scoots down in his seat a bit more, causing him to push his hips up against your hand. You try to wrap your fingers around him, marveling at the heat seeping through the fabric. He’s fully hard despite not having done anything except talk and kiss, signifying to you that he may just be as desperate as you are.

“You have to be quick,” Aaron mutters through gritted teeth. You can almost imagine his eyes flitting back and forth out the window, anticipating when the train was going to start moving again.

“Don’t rush me,” you say and get the reaction you’re hoping for when you feel Aaron’s large hand on the top of your head, pushing your face down into his lap until your mouth is inches away from the outline of his cock.

“You have such a mouth on you,” Aaron sighs, feigning the type of nonchalance that makes your cheeks heat. “Maybe you should put it to good use.”

You don’t need to be told twice. Your hands swiftly unbutton his jeans and pull the zipper down, your mouth already watering. He helps you by lifting his hips up again and wiggling his jeans and briefs down until they’re mid-thigh, and then his hard cock is out, a pretty red with precum glistening at the tip. The way it looks against his vest, soft flesh contrasting against the rough material, has you licking your lips.

This has to be the best idea you’ve ever had.

Since Aaron was right about you possibly not having a lot of time, you forgo your usual teasing kitten licks for a broad stripe up his length and watch intently at the way the head of his cock brushes against his vest. Aaron jumps at the rough feeling against the sensitive head but lets out a low groan all the same. Something akin to glee fills you when you notice the wet patch his cock leaves on the blue fabric.

Aaron must notice because his hand is back on your head, putting pressure in a way that was hard to ignore. “You’re so filthy, practically begging me with those pretty eyes of yours to have my cock down your throat.”

You don’t answer, you know he’s not expecting one anyway. Instead, you grab his cock at the base, silently marveling at just how big he is in your hand, and lick another path up his cock before taking him fully in your mouth.

You always love sucking Aaron off— the weight of him on your tongue, the clean and musky taste of him, and the way he fills out your mouth and just feels so good in your hands. The best part is clearly the way he responds.

He groans deeply, a sound coming straight from within his chest, and you hear the thud from him throwing his head back against the headrest. You rest your free hand on his muscular thigh, marveling at the obvious way he’s attempting to hold himself back from immediately fucking into your mouth. He gives you a minute since it’s been a while, although you can feel the way his hand on your head clenches into a fist, patience already wearing thin.

You swirl your tongue around his head before taking more of him into your mouth, letting spit run down his length so you can stroke whatever you can’t fit in your mouth. You wish you had gotten a better look at his cock before doing this to marvel at the bulging veins, similar to his arms. Instead, you trace the vein on the underside of his cock with your tongue before coming back up to press against the head and coming up to flick your tongue against his leaking slit.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good, sweetheart.”

God, you wish you were able to see his face, the way he would be watching you with half-lidded eyes like he couldn’t decide whether to close them in pleasure or watch your lips stretch around him. He’d be biting at his lip, attempting to suppress his sounds because he’s still self-conscious about having his dick out in a government vehicle. He would have a crease between his brows, still trying to give you time to adjust and not giving in, and the flush on his neck would slowly rise up to his face.

But with the way you’re leaning with the console digging into you, your ass basically in the air, you can’t. As if Aaron read your mind, his right hand runs down your spine, leaving a hot trail in his wake, and down until he’s grabbing a handful of your ass. It’s so close to the aching heat of your pussy and your head spins when you start to wonder if he’s going to finger you like this or leave you wanting with wetness seeping through your pants.

The feeling of his hand on you and the way he inadvertently pushes you causes your mouth to slide another inch down his cock until your lips touch your fist. You moan, tightening your grip on his impossibly hard flesh, causing Aaron to let out another deep moan.

There’s another honk from behind the car and you suddenly remember that Aaron was right and you really don’t have a lot of time to waste.

So, you take a deep breath through your nostrils before you slide down until you could take as much of him as you could, spit starting to run out of the corners of your mouth, until he was hitting the back of your throat.

Aaron lets out a strangled sound, hips thrusting of his own accord. Luckily you were expecting it and you make sure to relax your jaw just a little bit more, slide down more until you move your hand away to settle on his thigh and your nose is pressed against neat curls. You focus on your heartbeat pounding in your ears and the feeling of his cock prodding at the back of your throat when you hold for two seconds and not the automatic way you want to gag before coming up to gasp in a breath. You barely hear the whisper of your name from Aaron’s lips before you’re taking him in his mouth again, easily due to how slick he is from your spit, until you’re deepthroating him.

“You always take my cock so well,” Aaron chokes out, his hands frantically coming to gather your hair in one hand before he barely pushes your head down and then back up. The hold he has on you isn’t rough, which you’re grateful for, but he still tugs you off his cock with a force that makes you dizzy. He makes you crane your neck at him, uncomfortably, but it’s worth it when you see the glazed look in his dark eyes and his parted lips as he pants in the air. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

You know you’re panting just as hard, tears already starting to prickle at the corner of your eyes, and your mouth swollen. You know Aaron loves you like this, open-mouthed and silently begging. So, you can’t help yourself when you lick your lips, relishing in the way Aaron’s hungry gaze follows the movement, and say in a raspy voice “Yes, sir.”

You never would’ve guessed Aaron liked being called sir in the bedroom, though you secretly hoped, but you didn’t realize the full extent of it until you called him sir as a joke in his office and noticed the way his back stiffened and his breath stuttered. After that, you always got a kick out of teasing him, just to see what he had in store for you when you got home.

You know exactly what he has in store for you now, in fact you had planned it. Your skin prickles as Aaron’s eyes narrow and the line of his mouth flattens. His chest is heaving as he tries to catch his breath and you watch the way the vest moves with him, shirt underneath stretching across him. He doesn’t say anything as he pushes you down, gentle enough so you know you could always back out if you wanted to.

You ignore the sore twinge in your neck as you wrap your lips around him again, closing your eyes to focus on covering your teeth, leaving one hand on his thigh in case you need to tap out and the other bent at the elbow to lean on the plush upholstery. You hear Aaron sigh blissfully when his cock slides back into your mouth, a hand gathering your hair again in a vice like grip, like he’s been thinking about this all week.

The way Aaron starts to fuck your mouth, you think you may be right. The thought of holding back seems to have been thrown out the window based on the noises he makes; guttural and heavy groans and whispered praises. Seeing his hips come off from the seat and into the warm wetness of your mouth and the easy glide of his cock between your lips is intoxicating, especially when added with the fact that you’re letting him.

The ache between your legs is almost overwhelming, pulsing with every thrust of Aaron’s hips against your face, and you wouldn’t be surprised if your panties were absolutely ruined by now from your arousal.

The sound of him fucking your mouth is obscene, lewd as the car is filled with the sounds of him hitting the back of your throat and his breathless pants. You let him take over and you watch with tears brimming at your eyes as his hips barely need to lift off the seat since he’s focusing all of his attention pulling you on and off his cock by your hair. The feeling of his cock thrusting in your mouth, of him using you to get himself off quickly is heady and so fucking hot.

You know he’s close when he starts to speed up, hips bucking into your open mouth frantically. You feel him start to pull you off of him in a silent question of where do you want me and the thought of him coming down your throat, hot and desperate, has your eyes rolling in the back of your head. The next time he thrusts into your mouth, you hold him there, the spot in the back of your throat deliciously raw.

“Jesus Christ,” you hear Aaron mutter through the blood rushing in your ears. “You want me to come in your mouth, sweetheart? So no one knows you were letting me fuck your mouth?”

You whimper, a muffled sound from your lips stretched around his cock, causing Aaron’s hips to stutter again. You pull off of him but you don’t move far, instead just barely hovering over the head, panting with your mouth open and tongue out, the message clear as day. You watch as Aaron’s free hand comes down to quickly jerk himself off.  

“Fuck, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Everyone knowing how good you are for me?”

God, you really wish you could see his face, but to make up for it, you move to press your tongue against him as best as you could while his hand is a blur on his cock. You’re barely able to tongue the slit, the salty taste of his precum cutting through, when you hear the roaring of an engine and a train horn.

You realize the train’s finally moving, which means now you’re really running out of time.

You squeeze his thigh, not trusting your ability to speak, and Aaron wordlessly brings you down so you could further wrap your lips around the head of his cock, flicking your tongue against him, his hand continuing to bring himself off. The way his large hand envelops his thick cock, slick from your spit and squelching lewdly, has you pressing your thighs together in an effort to press the inseam of your pants against your clit, because the blur of his hand and his rhythmic grunts were so filthy.  

It didn’t take long for Aaron’s raspy exhales to turn into a stuttered groan, his muscled thigh underneath your hand tensing, and his hips to snap up once, twice, before his come is shooting into your mouth in hot spurts. The bitter taste coats your tongue, your throat, and you swallow before you can think of it. You hollow your cheeks, taking more of him in your mouth and press your tongue against the slit to gather whatever is left despite the hiss you faintly hear, Aaron undoubtedly sensitive.

You lift up off him, using his leg as leverage, and ignore the soreness in your abdomen from the console pressing against your vest while you sucked your boss’s cock in a government issued vehicle. The ache between your thighs is nearly overwhelming, your panties melding against your pussy from how wet you were, and you secretly wished Aaron used his thick fingers to give you some relief while you went down on him.

The train just barely passes by you before the red lights stop flashing and the barriers come up, causing Aaron to hurriedly tuck himself back in his jeans and put the car back in drive. You’re just barely buckling your seatbelt in before you’re speeding off, the glaring lights from the cars behind you now a distant memory.

“You okay?” you ask after you’ve been driving in silence for nearly 5 minutes. You glance over at Aaron to see him almost done catching his breath, however his chest is still rising and falling deliciously so, especially still in that fucking vest. His jeans are still undone and you bite your lip when you notice a dried spot near the zipper where some of him must have escaped from the corner of your mouth. Oops.

Aaron shakes his head, ducking his head to chuckle breathlessly. He’s so endearingly handsome. “Never been more okay in my life.” And then he’s placing his hand on your thigh, fingertips so close to where you need him most, and gives you a reassuring squeeze.

At the next stoplight, Aaron finally does his jeans back up and then twists his body towards you. His eyes are still dark, bottom lip raw from where he must have been biting it, and then says to you again in a low voice “Come here.”

You obey, because how could you not, and then Aaron’s hand that was on your thigh is cradling your jaw to meet you halfway and kiss you, deeply. It’s a different kiss than the one he gave you earlier, more intense as his tongue slides against yours. He groans at the taste of himself in your mouth and you swear you fall a little more in love with him.

When he pulls back, he’s looking at you like you’re something precious, despite the fact that your hair must be a rat’s nest from his hands and your lips are swollen and chapped. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, something sweet twitching at the corner of his mouth. “You think you can wait until we get back to the hotel?”

You fail to hide your surprise because Aaron rarely wants to spend the night together on cases, which technically explains how you got here in the first place, the taste of come still at the back of your mouth and your panties sticking to you. He must really want to fuck you. You run your eyes over him, at the red light sharpening his features and his dimple just barely visible. You imagine him looming over you and holding onto the straps adorning his sides as he fucks mercilessly into you. “As long as you keep the vest on.”

The smile on Aaron’s face is blinding, causing your heart to stutter in your chest. You’re so screwed.

“Deal.”

[louisdotmp3]

i love that poll the americans are like what the hell are you talking about i can drive for days and the non americans are like what the hell are you talking about if the drive is less than 30 mins i'll walk

[goldenstring6123]

Lnds: Red tinted lover

Warning: No warnings! GN!reader, fluff and teasing.

Author's note: Inspired by a cute ramble of anon!

What makes Zayne blush:

Compliment him and brag about him in front of his peers and yours. Being his lover, you observed a lot of things from him. Zayne performs minuscule acts of kindness when the situation calls for it, and sometimes, he does it in private, hidden from others' sight. When you bring these up, most people are impressed, but Zayne, on the other hand, is just beside you or nearby, listening to you ramble about his actions.

"You're super red."

"I am not," he politely replied.

"Yes, you are," you said in a singsong. "You're super red like a tomato. Is it because I complimented you a lot?"

Zayne doesn't respond and avoids eye contact. You cup his cheeks, and he is forced to look at you, wide eyes wide open. What he sees is your cheeky grin; behind it is the real intent of why you said those things about him. "Aren't you just the cutest? The cold and stoic Dr. Zayne blushing because his lover complimented him. Wouldn't that make a good headline for the hospital publication?"

You grab the opportunity to pinch his nose lightly, and he pulls away, no less red than before.

"You're so cute, I just want to—" You made a gesture of your fingers squeezing his cheeks.

"I can't help but think that you orchestrated this to get a reaction from me."

"Maybe I did, maybe not." You shrugged with a chuckle, giving him a sly expression.

"Cunning as always." The surgeon shook his head and turned away, hoping that he would return to his original complexion before someone else saw him.

What makes Rafayel blush:

Claim him and be jealous. Rafayel is naturally a magnet for people. No matter how much he likes his peace, people would flock to him all the time, both boys and especially girls. Sometimes, he has a hard time turning people down and is overwhelmed by their presence; he's sometimes unable to refuse a picture or two. That's when you come in. Confidently, you would hook yourself onto his arm and lean on him. When people ask who you are, you would say your name. And when people ask what you are to Rafayel, you would simply reply: "I'm Rafayel's wife. Do you need something from my husband?". The ladies who had ulterior motives backed away almost instantly.

"You're really a woman magnet, aren't you Rafa—" You turn to look at him in exasperation but pause. "Rafayel?"

The artist was avoiding your eyes. He was facing you, but his head was turned elsewhere, and he was biting his lip. Moreover, his cheeks and neck were severely red, almost looking like a rash.

"Are you alright? Is it the alcohol?"

He gave you the silent treatment for a good 15 seconds before saying: "You really know how to get me going. Calling yourself my wife and all."

"Hey, I was helping you out there!"

"You're really bold."

You can't help but analyze him for a moment. He doesn't seem offended, and you didn't do anything particularly wrong…

Is he…

"Are you feeling shy?"

He glared at you, puffing his cheeks. A hearty laugh escaped your lips. Rafayel narrowed his eyes even more.

You press up against him and go on your tippy toes, smirking. "You're feeling shy because I called you my husband, weren't you?"

"Did not." He crossed his arms over his chest, but everything else says yes.

"Did too." You pinch both sides of his cheek, and he stares at you in awe.

"Aren't you a little bashful pufferfish?" He took a step back and turned around, facing the wall to avoid your little confrontation. But you can still see the nape of his neck, and his ears turn maddeningly red.

"Cutie~"

"You're getting more shameless by the minute. Once we get home, I'll take my revenge on you!"

"Sure you would—little blushing pufferfish." You cooed, slapping his butt before walking away.

"I swear on my words!" You hear him say.

What makes Sylus blush:

You can make Sylus blush if you boldly flirt with him and touch his butt. Being a feared man would mean that people would want to spend little to no time talking to him unless it's a negotiation—it's no surprise that people are on edge if they're talking face-to-face with a dangerous leader. When it comes to you, however, it looks like you don't fear anything in life when you try to pretend that you're a stranger and hit on him like one would in a bar.

"Hey, hot stuff," you're pressed against the doorframe, looking too suave for your own good. "You new here?"

He stares at you while he garnishes the steak on the plate. He raised an eyebrow. "Yes," he said simply, but evidently playing along with your antics.

"Do you need someone to accompany you, handsome?" you asked, walking closer.

"I am an engaged man," he matter-of-factly stated with a nod, turning to his task once more. "A loyal one at that."

While he does whatever he's doing, your eyes land on the prize. "Really now?"

That perky gifted butt, accentuated by his slim-fit black pants. You licked your lips and walked casually to where he was. "A wife shouldn't leave his husband alone now, shall they?"

He hummed.

"You're too handsome to be tied to a single woman," you whispered. "Care for another cuter company?"

When he looked at you, you slapped his ass.

He shot up and gripped the pepper mill tighter. Sylus let out a singular laugh, placing it down on the counter and rubbing his face, hiding the reddishness of his ears. "You really ought to know who you're dealing with, sweetie."

He pushed himself away from the counter and walked closer to you, a sense of doom swallowing you as he got closer and closer with every step. Sylus bent down and picked you up by your knees, throwing you over his shoulder before a loud slap reverberated in the room.

Sylus returned the gesture to your ass.

He began walking towards the bedroom. "Sylus, I'm just kidding! No! Sylus! No! Ah?!" You clawed and held on to the doorframe, your life flashing before your eyes.

What makes Xavier blush:

Coax him to do something cute. It was easy to make Xavier blush as long as you were in the right environment. Sometimes, making him blush deliberately is also easy if you manage to play your cards right. It's not that he hates acting cute, but no one ever really asks him to do those things and wear cutesy stuff, so when you ask him to do it, he's a bit reluctant, but he doesn't want to disappoint.

"I promise I did not eat the last cake slice." Xavier placed his hand on his chest.

"Hmm. I don't believe you." You held out the empty Tupperware with an accusatory glare thrown at your boyfriend. "Wear the headband behind you and say 'Nyaa' three times. If you don't, then you're lying."

His eyes went wide. He slowly turned behind him and saw a conveniently placed cat ear headband resting on the console table. He held it and looked into your eyes with pity; a part of him smelled like something was going on, but you kept up the angry facade.

He sighed and put the headband on. Balling his fists and letting out cute 'nyaa~'s. With every sound he makes, he turns a shade darker until his face is fully red, and his eyes dart away from you.

He kept his little 'paws' near his chin. You held back a laugh. You were just messing with him. He seemed so innocent looking at you when you were mad—and maybe it was payback for last week when he hogged the blanket all to himself.

"I'm just joking, Xav." You pulled in closer, nudging his head to look up at you. You placed a kiss on his cheek.

"What?" you hear him say in disbelief, stricken with how you made a fool of him. Before he could retaliate at all, you opened your mouth and folded your lips inward to cover the tip of your teeth. You chomped on his face and pushed his face against yours.

"Mhmp!" he let out, holding on to your wrists. His cheek just looked so edible.

You let out a loud pop when you released him from your mighty grasp.

"You like making fun of me, don't you?" He was now glaring at you, albeit tenderly. There was a red mark left on his cheek, and you felt guilty for munching on it.

"Hehe~"

"In that case, let me bite you too…" Xavier yanked on your wrists, and the world suddenly began to tilt.

"Xavier, no—"

Author footnotes: I made Zayne and Xavier blush in game and I realized I was smiling stupid :>

Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost

[mechdyke-after-hours]

HEAD MEDIC

a ficlet for @cyberrose2001 and @azu-recentbrainrot . this is for u guys. U both infected me with him. I'm gonna sue. >:(

Ratchet/Human!Reader cunnilingus

painfully soft and fluffy compared to my usual writing. mostly just him eating you out until you fall asleep. mech was HUNGRY.

word count: 1,103

Ratchet was a bit of a hardass most of the time, and most people wouldn't deny that. But good god, he was incredible in bed. You'd heard stories about his party ambulance days, even seen photo and video evidence at some point much to your (very aroused) delight. Sure he was a little older and more battle hardened now, but he retained the passion. Not to mention… the battle scars only added to the appeal.

You spent more time than not at the autobot base. The other mechs had become more than accustomed to you at this point, and you'd even consider them all some of your closest friends. But, even though you loved them to pieces, your favourite time was when they were out on missions, or patrol.

It usually took no more than 10 minutes for Ratchet to start gently running his practiced servos over your form, and no more than 15 minutes for his mouth to be on you.

Today was one of those days.

His servos wrapped around your waist, slowly sliding up to caress your chest softly, squeezing the plush flesh softly. You immediately lean into his touches with an affectionate hum.

“Touchy already? It's been less than 5 minutes, you're so impatient…” You turn around so you can glance up into his optics. His usually bright, kind eyes have darkened ever so slightly and he has what can only be described as a cocky smirk on his face.

“I've been waiting cycles to have you all to myself again…” He mumbled, gently lifting you into his arms. Despite having mass displaced, he was still around three feet taller than you. He pressed kisses to your neck as he walked you to his berth, biting your shoulder gently, his dentae leaving a small red mark. You gasp in surprise, biting your lip to hold back a more embarrassing noise. He lets out a soft laugh “Primus… you're so soft and small… and so fragging sensitive.”

The medic laid you on the lightly padded berth, his servos trailing over your body with practiced delicacy. If there was one Cybertronian to trust with your squishy human form, it was Ratchet. Digits pulled at your clothes, fabric being pulled off with surprising urgency. He wanted you, and he wanted you now.

Your underwear were pulled off quickly, the damp fabric gently held between two digits before he slipped it into his subspace with a grin. You couldn't help but blush, and you felt yourself get wetter.

Ratchet's servos gently pushed your thighs apart, a digit trailing up your slick folds to gently ghost over your clit. He used two digits to spread you open, examining the glistening threads with a hum. “Dirty thing… you're absolutely soaked…” He held up his digits, spreading them apart. Strings of fluids practically dripped down his fingers onto the berth below. “and here you were calling me impatient?” He tutted disapprovingly, reaching up to slide his digits between your lips and into your mouth. You let out a shocked gasp, the slightly sweet, bitter and salty taste of your own fluids mixing with the sharp metallic taste of his plating on your tongue.

Ratchet's digits slipped out from your mouth, reaching back between your legs to rub your own saliva against you, before he leaned down to drag his glossa up your folds. Your back arched, one of your hands clasping over your mouth instinctively. His servos wrapped around your thighs, pulling you as close as possible. He moved his glossa against you like your slick was the finest energon.

Your legs clamp around his helm, and he growls. “That's it sweetspark… you taste so good…” His optics flicker as you meet his gaze, and you can feel him smiling against you. His glossa flicks against your clit, and you yelp. He chuckles again, one servo gently kneading your thigh as the other slides up higher. One large metal digit gently teases your opening, slowly inching its way inside. His glossa lapping against your clit the whole time.

His fingers are massive. Even in his mass displaced frame, his servos easily cover your entire abdomen. One of his digits feels like it could easily be the size of two of your own. The stretch isn't painful, but by god is it a stretch. His digit pumps slowly, but skillfully. He hits every spot inside of you with a surgical and practiced precision. You wouldn't be surprised if he mapped out all your sweet spots and kept a guide in his memory bank for times just like this. Which, to be honest, is a very Ratchet thing to do. He was a master of bringing you to your peak almost embarrassingly quickly. The way he looked up at you with that fucking look in his optics was not helping.

Your lower stomach twists, your thigh muscles clenching and twitching. You squeeze your legs around his helm tighter, and you can feel yourself clenching around his digit. You're so close. So painfully close. “H-hah… Ratchet…” You can barely recognise your own voice with how desperate you sound, and he chuckles softly.

“There, there sweet thing… you're taking my digit so well…” He mumbles, curling his finger up just right. His thrusts increase in speed, hitting your g-spot with each movement. His free servo moves up to your abdomen, pressing down slightly in a way that makes your eyes roll back. His engine purrs. “That's right… overload on my glossa for me sweetspark…”

You do just that.

With an embarrassingly loud cry of his name, your thighs wrap around his helm even tighter, to the point you're almost definitely bruised. You grind against his intake entirely unconsciously. He groans as he works you through your orgasm, relishing in the taste of your orgasm against his glossa. Your breathing slowly returns to normal as you relax your legs, trembling slightly. “F-fucking hell…” You curse, pushing the hair out of your face.

He chuckled again, pressing a quick kiss to your slightly overstimulated clit before he pulled away. His derma glistened with a mix of oral lubricants and your own fluids. “Good job, sweetspark. You're always so good for me.” He moved up to lay next to you, pulling you close to his chassis. His engine rumbled softly as he gently petted your hair, rather affectionately.

You were half asleep by the time he slowly stood up from the berth. He planted a gentle kiss on your forehead, mumbling something that you couldn't quite hear, before he headed off back to the main room, leaving you to nap peacefully.