#you took the words right out of my mouth (hot summer night)
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shitsndgiggs · 2 days ago
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Heyyy
What about something very cutesy where Kenan and reader are on vacation(where he went this summer with his friends) and reader is waiting for Kenan to get ready on their bed to go out for dinner and when he finishes he goes to her and they kiss etc and Kenan doesn’t want to leave anymore but the reader obliges him. Little messy I know😔
STAY IN? - KENAN YILDIZ
Kenan wants to stay in
Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader
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︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿
The hotel room was softly lit, the sounds of waves crashing on the beach outside filling the air with a peaceful rhythm.
I was sprawled across the bed, my legs dangling off the edge as I absentmindedly scrolled through my phone.
Kenan had been in the bathroom for what felt like forever, getting ready for our dinner reservations.
I sighed dramatically, calling out to him, “And you say I’m the one who takes forever to get ready? What’re you doing in there, applying a full face of makeup?”
From behind the closed door, I heard him laugh. “Patience, woman. I’m almost done,” he teased back.
I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face. I was honestly just excited to spend a night out with him after our long day exploring the island.
It felt like we were in our own little world here, with no schedules, no responsibilities—just each other.
Finally, the bathroom door creaked open, and Kenan stepped out, adjusting the collar of his shirt.
My eyes traveled over him, taking in the sight of his sun-kissed skin and how ridiculously good he looked in that fitted shirt. He smirked when he caught me staring.
“What? You like what you see?” he asked, his voice a low tease as he crossed the room to me.
I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “You clean up alright, I guess,” I said, though the way my eyes lingered on him gave me away.
Kenan’s smirk widened as he leaned down over me, one hand resting on the mattress beside my head. “Just alright?” he murmured, his breath hot against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.
“Yeah,” I teased, my heart skipping a beat as he brought his lips closer to mine. “But you really took your time in there.”
“Maybe I was trying to look good for you,” he said softly, brushing his lips over mine in a quick peck.
I let out a small, satisfied hum, intending to sit up and head to the door, but Kenan had other ideas. He caught my chin between his fingers, tilting my face back toward him.
Another kiss—slower this time, his lips lingering on mine like he was savoring the taste.
I sighed into the kiss, melting under his touch as he deepened it, turning what was supposed to be a quick peck into something that had my toes curling.
The kisses came one after another, each one slower, more drawn out than the last. Kenan’s hands slid around my waist, pulling me flush against him as he tilted his head, capturing my lips in a passionate kiss that left me breathless.
It was the kind of kiss that made the world outside fade away, the kind that made me forget about dinner reservations and everything else.
“Mmm,” Kenan hummed against my mouth, his hands sliding down to rest on my hips. “Maybe we should just stay in tonight…” He mumbled the words between kisses, his voice husky and warm.
I let out a breathless laugh, pushing lightly at his chest even as I felt myself giving in to the way his fingers traced circles against my skin. “Kenan,” I protested weakly, but he only kissed me again, his lips finding that spot just below my ear that made my knees go weak.
“Seriously,” he whispered, his lips brushing my ear, “I don’t think I can leave this room now.”
As much as I wanted to just melt into his embrace and forget all about dinner, I knew we’d regret missing it. I placed a hand on his cheek, pulling back just enough to look into his darkened eyes.
“We have a reservation,” I reminded him, though it came out in a breathless whisper.
Kenan groaned dramatically, leaning his forehead against mine. “Who cares about food when I’ve got you right here?”
I laughed, gently detangling myself from his hold and stepping back. “We can come back here after dinner,” I promised, giving him a cheeky grin. “But first, we eat.”
He gave me that adorable pout, but there was a glint in his eyes that told me he wasn’t giving up that easily. “Fine,” he sighed, grabbing my hand as I started toward the door. “But you owe me dessert when we get back.”
“That can be arranged,” I said, my heart fluttering at the way he looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.
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k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9 · 1 month ago
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Meat Loaf – You Took The Words Right Out My Mouth (Hot Summer Night)
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littlemyinvadeshighbury · 2 years ago
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I am crazy and I am not free. Put me in a hospital. 
I keep thinking about 70s band au KOTLC and so this is from that. I made this instead of my lab report/finn essay that are due in two days
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gwaindrifter · 1 year ago
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On a hot summer's night, I would, in fact, offer my throat to the wolf with the red roses.
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planetsage · 4 months ago
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NEW PIN ! ꒰ 🪷 LUST FOR LIFE 𖧧˚⋆ʚɞ ── choso kamo 𝜗𝜚 . . . SAVE ?
“and i was like take off, take off, take off all your clothes”
contains. nsfw so, minors and ageless blogs do not interact. f!reader. dom!choso / bsf!choso, kinda ooc, mentions of sex toys, solo masterbation, getting caught, m rec oral, deepthroat, spit, dirty talk, missionary, some possessiveness, overstimulation, creampie. 2k words.
choso realized early on in your friendship that he finds issues in locating exactly where the metaphorical line lies between you two.
he knows that, yes; he loves you with an unconditional devotion that scribbles color over every inch and corner of his life. if he could, he’d bring the moon down and bottle it up for you. in the shape of his love. he’d steal the stars.
but sometimes his brain cramps up in confusion because he shouldn’t be imagining how soft and clammy his best friend’s pretty little hands would feel wrapped around the girth of his cock, right?
he knows it’s wrong. he knows he’s just being gross; there’s always a subtle pang of guilt that strums and strings at his heart when he’s with you, but every time he stiffens at his very, very lively imagination, he just can’t help the tight grip, his thumbs rubbing little circles on his sensitive tip before moving with the rest of his fingers to jerk off to the pictures you send him throughout your day.
and you don’t make it any easier for him.
the way your touch lingers for too long, your gaze planting camellia seeds over the plot of his cheeks.
and now, he’s staying at your place while his ac gets fixed; he spent a grueling few days in the oppressive summer heat, sticky and sweaty, and couldn’t bear it any longer. naturally, like the great friend you are, you warmly offered up a guest bedroom to him. and he accepted.
he quickly went to pack a few days’ worth of clothes and toiletries. while scrambling around his room one last time to make sure he had everything, he saw the pink lip outline of the fleshlight he stuffs full almost every night; the fleshlight that he bought in your exact skin tone.
he almost brought it. almost. but decided it’d be rude to indulge himself like that in your guest bedroom after you so graciously offered the space to him. so he left it.
god, does he regret it now.
lying in bed after dinner where you must’ve been trying to kill him, wearing nothing but a little crop top and some boy-shorts underwear. the cotton mockingly hugging up on the cuff of your ass. doing nothing to clothe you.
even in the guest room, everything smells like you. the soft of the sheets, the silky pillows, hell, even the air. it’s too much. like your scent took a physical form to torture and encase his entire body.
“haaa … fu— fuck” his hips roll languidly against the plump mattress as he groans out, ravened locks falling all over the bones of his flushed face. he sinks his teeth into one of the pillows, drooling all over it, and screws his eyes shut to imagine how your pussy would feel letting him in, stretching around his cock, “nghh ... yea. just — just like that …”
sitting up, he pushes the heavy covers off of him; he’s hot, sweating under the thick duvet. pulling his shorts down because it’s too much. poor boy is too hard, throbbing and leaking all over your sheets with a pretty pink dusting his body, “shit..” he whispers sweetly, laying his warmed, wet tongue flat against his palms before wrapping around himself, almost whining at the contact.
he flicks his wrists rhythmically, his mouth bowing open at how loudly his messy cock squelches, filling the room, his hips canting up into his fists.
but he wishes it was you.
the pretty wings of his eyes flap and flutter shut, picturing the way the fat of your ass would bounce on him, how you’d cream all over his cock, “so fuckin’ messy for me— oh my god” wondering how you touch yourself. do you use your fingers? toys? he could probably fill you up way better than any plastic ever could .. do you ever think of him when you play with your pussy? “fuck— fuck fuck fuck”
his eyes peel back open to the door he purposefully left cracked. though he knows getting caught now, like this had the potential to ruin the entire friendship, he banks on the chance that you want him too. his head falls back against the wooden headboard like a marionette’s dropping from its strings. so caught up in making himself cum he doesn’t hear your feet shuffling, nearing the room.
the deep groans you heard from your room stirred you awake, urging you to check on him, pulling you closer and closer to the door until you’re right up by it. you can see his dark silhouette through the crack. your eyes growing big at how he’s quickly pumping himself.
you move closer; the door is only slightly ajar and something inside you wants to see more. hear more. your heart thumps rhythmically in the drums of your ears and your shoulder presses against the wood, causing a creek to sound and cut through his moans like velvet.
you freeze.
his eyes lock onto yours, and he freezes too. even though this is what he wished for deep down he didn't actually expect the stars to align, for better or worse.
your breathing picks up, your feet glued to the ground as if gravity hated you, rooting you in place. and choso can’t think of anything to say but a meek, “sorry” waiting and watching how you react:
your teeth clamp down to chew on the fat of your bottom lip. your breaths coming out in quick winds, big eyes falling to where his hand squeezes and coaxes out drops of sticky precum.
“… come here”
your upper body scrambles, almost leaving your legs behind as you pad towards him. crawling over the thrown sheets up onto the bed and it dips. behind your wispy lashes reveals fairytale like eyes because you’ve been wanting to have him like this for as long, if not longer, than he has.
he parts his thighs and you nestle between them without a word, moving your hands to his bare legs as they frame you; digging your nails into the taut muscles. as long as you’ve known him, choso has obsessively gone to the gym. vibrantly showing you basically nudes rebranded as ‘progress pictures.’ you squeeze his legs making him twitch, his hand moving to your chin, making you look up at him, “i want you .. to wrap these preetty lips,” his thumb moves to push and stroke against your bottom lip, “around my dick. been thinkin’ about them for so long. can you do that for me?” he’s groaning with a raw authority you’ve never heard or seen from him.
and it makes you so fucking wet.
you nod and he leans back, scooting his hips lower and spreading himself. “use your words. i don’t want this unless you do, too”
“yes. i want it so bad. want to make you feel good, cho” you grab his cock with both hands, warm and throbbing against your soft palms, before pushing it up against your flushed cheek, rubbing it against your pretty face.
“that’s it. i knew you’d want it, pretty girl. now show me”
you press light kisses to his flushed tip, up and down his length, watching keenly as he hisses at your little touches. whispering out a, “so pretty.”
he’s watched and replayed this scene so many times in his head; you laid out between his legs pressing puffed lips against his cock, but it doesn’t hold a candle to the real thing.
you stretch out your jaw, letting him plug up your warm mouth. his eyes roll so far back with a deep groan, your tongue laying flat on his veiny underside as you bob your head on him, your hand moving to massage and squeeze what doesn’t fit in your wet mouth, the other groping at his heavy balls, “fe— haah, feel so good.”
he’s already so close from earlier, raising his ass to buck into your little mouth even though you’re full of him. his tip knocking against the back of your throat making you whine out muffled, “hmph mhmm” ‘s
“don’t — shit. don’t talk with your mouth full, baby. take me all in, you can do it”
he grabs a fist full of your hair, pushing you all the way down making you gag, spit pooling and spilling out around where he clogs your little mouth up. tears line your eyes, spilling over your cheeks as he fills up your throat, “aht aht baby take it all. you’re almost there. c’mon ….. mhhmmm theeeeere you go”
you pull off of him gagging and coughing out glops of fat, foamy spit.
“oh ‘m sorry, sweet thing” he leans in to lick at the spit and tears dripping down the point of your chin before kissing you. his plump pink lips pressing so harshly against yours, tongue sliding greedily into your mouth licking at every corner. the clumsy wetness of it all has you panting as he pulls back, clear spit trailing from your mouths.
“please .. let me fuck you. been wanting to for so long”
his eyes sort of soften as they bore into yours, begging silently with a puppy like glow.
“ .. me too” you assure and he moves to guide you onto your back, grabbing your legs. he presses a sweet kiss to the base of your ankle, “mm. i’ll take such good care of this pretty pussy. ‘s mine now, right?
“yes .. yes, choso. fuck me. ‘m all yours”
he pushes your little thong to side to smear his swollen fat tip against your messy folds, pushing up against your clit “so wet f’me baby .. i did that? you liked having me down your throat that much?”
“hnngg, cho— stop teasing”
then, he realized that you came into the room with nothing but an oversized tee. and a cute little thong. for him. slapping his cock against your pretty cunt three times before smearing against your folds again.
he sinks into your warmth with a long, drawn out, “fuuuuuucckk” at how your little pussy opens up for him, squeezing him so tight. and he’s so big. stretching you out, dragging his fat length against your pinky walls, pushing his hips into yours until he fully bottoms out.
his hands dig into your skin, so rough he might leave bruises because he’s trying so hard to keep himself grounded and not dump his cum into you right this moment. you feel so good. too good.
he moves slowly at first. letting your pussy adjust to him as his thumb swipes against your clit, easing him in. “‘s almost there, baby, you can do it. let me in, pretty girl”
he continues to pet your clit, then you look up into his eyes. and they stare back into yours. dark purple swirled around pools of black, “harder”
that’s all he needed to hear.
his hips harshly slam into yours, your body arching up to meet his deep strokes. angling to make sure the sweet curve of his cock hits that spot that makes you shake, bolts of pleasure striking through your entire body.
the room fills with your little whines, pretty broken moans of his name. heat emitting from your body and mixing with his as he moves to grab at your boobs. the tips of his fingers tweaking and pulling your nipples, “aahhh, cho—so fuck”
your legs hang over his shoulder, sweat slipping and sliding down his temples, “tell me you’re mine” reaching up you struggle to hold on to the girth of his biceps, “yours! ‘m all yours!”
you’re so close. so sensitive, your pussy clenching and pulsing around him in tune with every heavy snap of his waist. “go ahead, baby. give it to me”
it’s feels like you’re on fire. every inch of your body so overwhelmed it’s almost painful. your skin flushes and a warm sensation washes over your entire body as you squeeze around him, “theeeree you go, baby, mhhm, that’s it” shaking against his strong arms when your orgasm cracks like lightning and rips through you.
his cock throbs inside you, his strokes growing sloppy and heavy as he fucks you through your high. overstimulating your pussy. he pushes to drain his thick cum inside you. paint your warm walls with him, groaning out your name.
“holy— shit..” his breaths come out in heavy gasps, twitching you as he grows soft in the solitude of your silky walls.
he’s so warm. filling you all the way up with fat globs of cum. “mmmm, keep me in, baby” pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of your parted lips. then another to the tip of your nose.
as soon as his ac gets fixed, he’s going to throw away that stupid toy. he’s got the real thing to fill up now.
© planetsage 2024 all rights reserved. no part of this may be reproduced in any form.
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musicandoldmovies · 2 years ago
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Meat Loaf - You took the Words right out of my Mouth (Hot Summer Night)
From the album Bat out of Hell
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motorsportbarbie13 · 25 days ago
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Hiiiii couldn’t help but see you do requests, could you do something where after a hard race reader placed on the podium but felt sick and Max catches her when she collapsed after getting out of the car? Maybe with the words "I can't... my legs... everything's tingling..." and him being super worried. Basically a little angsty with a fluffy end where he’s checking on her, can be established relationship or not.
OH ANON. this was so fun.
Enjoy!
Heatstroke In which, as it turns out, Max wasn't just 'Maxplaining' the difficulty of Singapore to you after all
Pairing: Max Verstappen X FerarriDriver!Reader Warnings: fainting, getting sick/weak, max being a knight in shining armor. Word count: 2.2k Masterlist
Max tried to warn you. Lando tried to warn you. Checo and Lewis had tried to warn you. Hell, the entire fucking grid had tried to warn you that Singapore was a different beast. You had thought they were just coddling you and being over dramatic, as the boys tended to be with you. It was a hazard of being the only woman on the grid, which frankly, drove you bat shit crazy because you had earned your way into the red Ferrari seat next to Charles on your own, thank you very much. You didn’t need to be coddled and you didn’t need to be warned off anything. 
But they were right. 
Singapore was a different beast. 
The heat during the day was oppressive but at night? There wasn’t any relief once the intense sun went down either. You were from Michigan though, that midwestern state being famous for its hot and sticky summers so you had thought you’d been prepared.
As you claimed into your sleek red car, lining up P3 behind Max and Lando though you knew you were in trouble before the green flag waved. The thing about sweating in the humidity like this is that there’s no where for the moisture on your skin to go, the air already too heavy so that slick sweat sticks to you, making you even hotter than before. 
“Fuck, this is going to be brutal.” You mumble, hoping that the braid you tied your hair in would stay for the entirety of the race. Suddenly, shaving your hair into a pixie cut like Fred had been suggesting (mostly jokingly) for weeks seemed like a good idea.  
The formation lap is fine. 
The first ten laps are fine, if not a little squirrely thanks to your car being wildly loose. 
The first fifteen laps are fine, if not a bit hot. 
But on lap 23? All hell breaks loose. 
First, your hydration system fails and you’re completely unable to get any water through the tiny straw that you usually flip into your mouth on the straightaway, just like Danny taught you. You’re sweating up a storm with no way to replenish those valuable electrolytes. 
Then, you’re so busy focusing on the fact that you’d give your first born child for a sip of water you nearly slam into the same exact wall that took George out on the last lap of last year’s race. You yank the steering wheel around so hard, you feel something in your wrist pop. The searing pain causes you to over correct and you nearly drive right into your own fucking teammate. 
“Fuck. Tell Charlie I’m sorry.” You groan over the radio, telling your engineer to pass on the message to Charles. 
“Focus on your race.” Your engineer tells you, voice obviously strained just as yours is. “Charles is fine.” 
Well, I sure as fuck am not fine. You think as you fight the car down towards the starting line. 
On lap 45, you’re granted a reprieve when a Sauber goes into the wall, bringing out a yellow flag. The leaders all duck into the pits, including yourself. There’s nothing anyone can do about your water situation and at this point, your instincts have kicked it. 
Max was right and you knew it. Singapore was hell. He had tried to tell you last night, as you had been snuggled up in bed with him, a ritual that you both had become dependent on this season. It seemed cliche, you falling for one of your rivals. You hated it but there was no denying that there was a magnetic chemistry between the two of you that had started the moment you had met last year while you were still driving in F2. 
You had resisted his charm for a while but things had taken a turn the night it was announced you’d be driving for Ferrari alongside Charles. Several of the drivers that lived in Monaco full time insisted on taking you to Jimmy Z’s to celebrate and who were you to say no to a bunch of handsome men paying for your drinks? 
The night ended just as you might expect it: Max drunkenly confessing his year-long crush on you and you drunkenly kissing him in a dark alleyway as you waited for your Uber. What had started off as a drunken confession and your reckless response that wasn’t supposed to mean anything had turned into one of the greatest things that has ever happened to you. Max and you? The pair of you were endgame. 
But none of that mattered now. Not here, in the raging heat and humidity of Singapore. You knew that Max was going to give you shit for not being better prepared the moment you got out of the car. You knew you were in for an ‘I told you so’ lecture on the plane ride back in the morning. You knew Max was right and you had been stupid to underestimate the power this track had over drivers. 
Looking back on your first race in Singapore years later, you don’t quite know how you managed to finish those last laps. Pure determination and stubbornness, Max would insist later on that night. But before you’re able to fully wrap your head around how dangerous of a situation you’d gotten yourself into, the checkered flag is waving and you’ve crossed the finish line in P3, right behind Lando and Max. 
Your third podium of the year. If you had been more coherent, you probably would have been elated. But all you could think about as you pulled your car into parc ferme, right behind that little cardboard 3 sign, was the ice bath you knew was waiting for you somewhere in the paddock. 
Your red racing suit is soaked through and through, you can feel it before you even get out of the car. It takes a mammoth effort to pull the steering wheel out of it’s dock and for a moment, you worry you’re so weak you can’t even do that. In front of you, you see Lando pop out of the car in the P1 spot, elated to have won with a healthy margin of over 20 seconds for the second time that season. 
Max is out of the car too, albeit a bit slower than Lando. There’s a distant buzzing in your ear that sounds eerily like your engineer’s voice asking if you’re okay. But you’re completely unable to focus on anything beyond the tingling sensation in your legs. This wasn’t something you’d ever felt inside a race car in all your years of driving. Everything stung, like a million little fire ants were making a meal out of your flesh. It took every ounce of strength, of which you didn’t have much, to hoist yourself up out of the car. 
Your head swims the moment you stand up straight, and you feel your legs collapse under you. Somewhere off in the distance, you hear Max calling your name but you can’t look up, your helmet suddenly feeling like it weighs 300 pounds. 
Crouching in your car, you desperately try to pull yourself together before anyone notices you’re struggling. You didn’t want to give the media the satisfaction of pulling another ‘look, another woman who thinks she can hang with the rest of the F1 drivers.’ Like they’ve been attempting to do all season. 
Your eyes are closed but you still hear the faint call of Max’s voice somewhere off in the distance. The entire world is reduced down to a singular pin prick of light while you fight to stay conscious, the heat and humidity wrapping their ugly little fingers tightly around your throat. 
Just as you’re about to surrender to the warm quiet of the darkness that seems to be calling out to you, a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, hauling you out of the car like you weigh less than a bag of potatoes. You go limp in the arms of whoever has come to your rescue, collapsing under the strain of what you just put your body though. 
“Baby, please. Look at me.” 
Somehow, your helmet has been removed and you find yourself blinking up at Max. 
When did he get here? You wonder idly, not realizing it was him that pulled you out of the car. 
Max had gone practically feral when GP told him that you’d gone nearly 3/4 of the race without water. He knew how brutal this race was, and the humidity was unusually high tonight. He had gotten out of the car fairly quickly but had panicked when he saw your helmet tipped forward, resting on the halo device and you not moving. 
You lift your head, still wondering where your helmet was and instantly found yourself staring straight into the baby blue eyes of your boyfriend. “Maxie?” You croak, throat feeling like you just dined on a three course meal of sand and gravel. 
“Hey…” He coos, bringing you closer to his chest. “There’s my girl. You’re okay. I’ve got you.” He rubs soothing circles over your back, not caring that the press is having a field day with this. 
“I can’t…” You stutter, struggling to make the words in your head sound coherent when your mouth tries to form them. “My legs…everything is tingling.” 
If you had been a bit more coherent, you would’ve seen the look of absolute panic cross Max’s face. He frantically looks around as he lifts you into his arms, one arm under your knees, the other cradling your back against his chest. He knew you were going to absolutely murder him when you come around and see the pictures. You hated being coddled and hated showing affection on the grid even more. You and Max weren’t really hiding the fact that you were together, most fans knew and it was common knowledge around the paddock but the causal fan might be surprised to find out the lore between the two of you. So this outright show of concern, affection, and panic over the state of you that Max was showing right now? It was absolutely not a common occurrence 
“Interviews are going to have to wait.” Max barks at Jensen, this weeks post-race presenter. “She needs medical attention.” 
Jensen simply nods, allowing you to pass. 
Fred and Charles intercept you half way to the tent, insisting that getting you in the ice baths will be the thing to help you the most. Max, nearly delirious with worry because while your eyes were open and you were somewhat alert, follows their instructions and takes you back behind the garage area where the ice baths had been set up. 
It’s all you can do to stand upright as Max unzips your race suit. It’s so heavy with your sweat that it practically peels off of you with no effort, gravity doing the work for Max. And then your left in just your fireproofs. If you hadn’t been in the middle of the paddock with thousands of people and cameras around, Max would have stripped you down to just your underwear, but that wasn’t an option. 
WIth Max and Charles’ help, you’re able to hoist yourself into the waiting ice bath. The shock of the frigid water jolts some awareness back into you the moment your body is submerged in the glacial water. 
“Holy fuck.” You grit out, eyes closing in pain. 
“I know…I know, schatje. But it’ll get you feeling better so much quicker than anything else. 
You nod, still not fully aware of how you got here but thankful for Max’s steadying presence beside you. He’s crouched down so he’s eye level with you as you ball yourself up to get as much heated skin under the cold water and the worry etched all over his face is enough to steal your breath. 
“Max. Holy fuck. That was…you weren’t just Maxsplaining to me last night, were you?” 
A chuckle finds its way out of his lips, despite the state of panic Max is in. “No, I was not just ‘Maxsplaining’ anything last night, silly girl.” 
“Shut up.” 
“You’ve got your fire back, I see. I think you’ll live.” Max leans in to press a kiss to the crown of your head before dropping another kiss on your temple, then your cheek, and finally his lips find their home on yours. Right where they belong. It’s not a lingering kiss, or a passionate one. No. This kiss is filled with gratitude and relief and sheer dumb realization of how much this man loves you. 
Your eyes are open more now, a few minutes in the ice bath doing your heat stroke symptoms good. It takes you a few moments to really grasp the severity of what just happened. How close you came to passing out mid-race. How it was Max that got you out of that car and was at your side before anyone else. 
All around you, the paddock is bustling to life. The scene Max created by hauling you over to Ferrari’s garages has somewhat dissipated. Only a few onlookers are stopped still, but your team remains solidly around you, faces a mask of concern. But the only person you see is Max. 
“Thank you, baby.” You murmur when he leans in for another kiss. 
“Anything for you, schatje.” He rasps, emotion clawing at his throat. “Anything.” 
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froggibus · 4 months ago
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hiiiii :3 idk if ur taking reqs for dc right neow but a thought that tickles my brain rlly good is dick grayson/reader w a praise kink and dick exploits it n uses it to his advantage.... preferably afab reader but gn is fine :P
CTRL + H - Dick Grayson
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Pairing: Dick Grayson x fem! best friend! reader (uses fem pronouns + has a pussy)
Genre: smut/NSFW
Word Count: 4.1k
Summary: when your best friend discovers porn in your browser history while fixing your computer, he decides to use it to his advantage
CW: friends to lovers, lots of praise, uses of ‘good/pretty/lovely girl’ dick calls you sweetheart/angel, dick is CORNY I’m sorry, mentions of porn/asmr porn, teasing, gaslighting (but not really), fingering, marking, unprotected sex, lots of sweat (its sexy i swear), dick fucks you over a desk, kinda rough sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, implied to be summer, i think thats it??
hey hi 👽 anon, thanks for the request! im sorry it took so long, it wasn't meant to be this long i swear, i just got caught up in the thought of Dick being all hot and sweaty and praising you while fucking you >~< and yeah this happened. really hope you like it (but if you don't, let me know and ill totally rewrite it!) lots of love yes i took an extra 30 mins to find nightwing #83 to take a picture of the comic book to make this banner lol
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As if having Dick Grayson look at your search history wasn’t bad enough, now you have to live with the mortifying ordeal of him knowing you have a praise kink.  
When you had first invited him over to take a look at your malfunctioning computer, you’d thought nothing of it. You figured he would turn it on and off again, maybe update some drivers. So when he suddenly clicked into your browser and began scrolling through the long, long list of websites you’ve visited, you weren’t sure how to react. 
You noticed it at the same time as him, the glowing screen forcing you to freeze where you stand. There on the screen, from just last night, read: praise nsfw asmr. You swallow hard and lunge for the mouse to click out of your browser history, but breathe a sigh of relief when Dick does it first. 
There’s a beat of silence, your racing thoughts deafeningly loud as you try to come up with a reason to kick him out. Fanning your face as if that will help chase away the heat of the day, you swallow once more in an attempt to work some moisture back into your mouth. 
“F—find anything?” You say as casually as you can. 
It’s ridiculous how embarrassed you are, honestly. He’s just your friend, it’s just porn, it’s not like it’s the end of the world. Still, the rattling of your heart against your rib cage and his cruelly quiet silence make it feel like it is. 
He shakes his head. “Not so far, I should keep looking but—“ he flicks his eyes up your body, perfect blues tracing your every curve, “you seemed flustered.”
You raise your hands in denial all too quickly, your sweaty palms stretched out towards him. Dick raises an eyebrow, examining you in the way he does with strangers in coffee shops. 
“I just…don’t see how my search history is relevant, I guess. That’s all.”
He grabs your wrists, lowering your arms from the defensive position they’ve taken. Despite the familiarity of his touch, something feels off, different in a way you can’t explain. You shake the thought away. 
The world has not shifted on its axis because your best friend suddenly knows what kind of porn you’re into. 
His touch lingers on your wrist and he uses the leverage to gently pull you closer to where he sits at your desk. When he finally drops your wrist, a chill circles the space where his hand once was, refreshing your feverish skin.
“I just want to make sure you haven’t accidentally picked up a virus somewhere. If we can find one in your history, it’ll be much easier to get rid of it.”
The explanation only half seeps into the mush your brain has turned into under his gaze and you find yourself nodding without quite understanding. 
You were fooling yourself by inviting him here. While asking for his help was cheaper than hiring a professional, having him so close to you almost hurts—especially when lately you’ve been trying to force away the feelings you’ve harboured for him. 
“So,” Dick says again, “won’t you be a good girl and let me fix your computer for you?”
His words force you out of your thoughts, purely by short circuiting your brain. You blink at him with wide eyes, your heart pounding in your chest. 
“W—what did you say?”
“I just asked if I could fix your computer now.” 
You tilt your head in confusion. Did you mishear him, or did he call you ‘good girl’? He flashes you that signature smirk of his, his blue eyes suddenly dark with something you don’t recognize. 
Though everything on his face reads innocent, something not-so innocent lurks beneath the surface. Something that stares you down and screams ‘challenge me’. 
“Yeah.” You swallow. “I guess that’s fine.” You take a deep breath and try to steady the spinning in your head. 
Dick continues his work nonchalantly, hitting a few keys and opening your browser history once more. You turn your eyes away from the screen, instead focusing on the way your fingers grasp the desk until it hurts. 
You listen to him scroll for a while and try to pretend like he’s not looking through the most intimate part of your life. The idea of him seeing that part of you excites you as much as it nauseates you—a lethal combination. 
“You can relax.” Dick hums. 
You lift your head to look at him just to see him focused completely on the screen. You don’t dare glance at what he’s so focused on. 
“Why not sit down? This could take a while.” He says calmly. “I’m sure you’ll feel much better if you do.” 
You roll your shoulders. “I think I’ll just stand.”
There’s a shift in his eyes as if your words sparked something in them. He finally glances away from your screen, completely focusing on you with a newfound intensity. You want to shrink from his gaze, to run down the hall and hide in your broom closet, but you stay rooted in place. 
“It would help me a lot if you sit down. Don’t you want to be a good girl and help me out?” 
Holy fuck. “What did you just say?”
It feels like you’re waiting an eternity for him to speak again, your heart beating a mile a minute. He’s going to deny it, or make fun of you even more or worse—tell Wally about it. 
He pats his lap. “Come sit with me,” he purrs, “be a good girl, keep me company while I work.”
In your shock, you find yourself shuffling towards him and settling in his lap. Dick helps you adjust, tugging you back to his chest and keeping one arm around you while his other reaches for the mouse once more. 
He’s so close to you that you can feel the beating of his heart, his breath on your neck. You close your eyes and pray that he can’t feel the heartbeat that’s suddenly appeared between your legs.
You can’t remember a single time he’s been this close to you, a single time he’s touched you like this. The sudden proximity makes you dizzy, butterflies taking flight in your tummy. You clench the arm rests on either side in an attempt to keep your cool.
Dick shifts behind you, one of his thighs gently brushing your clit in a way that makes you squirm. “Don’t do that!” 
His hand slides from your waist to grip your thigh, a shiver running up your spine at the contact. “Don't do what? This?” He repeats the motion.
You squeak, lurching forward in an attempt to get away from the friction. You tilt too far and suddenly you’re falling head over heels towards the mat beneath your chair. Dick is quicker than that, wrapping one arm around your chest and another around your waist to tug you harshly back to him.
“Don’t do that,” you repeat breathlessly, “please.”
He rests his chin on your shoulder, soft strands of black hair tickling your cheek. “Why not? Use your words, angel.”
The nickname reignites something inside of you, rekindling a fire between your legs. You clench them together in the hopes it will do something to muffle the throbbing, but when you feel Dick smirk against the side of your neck, you know you’ve failed.
When you don’t answer him, he grins his knee between your legs once more, an innocent hum prompting you.
“You’re—fuck, you’re kneeing me in the cunt.”
Dick’s not sure if it’s from your brazen words or how entirely ridiculous this whole afternoon has been, but suddenly he’s laughing. A big, open mouthed, creasing at the corners of his eyes, laugh. 
His laugh surprises you enough to summon one of your own, sending you both into a fit. You shift on his lap to look at him, wrapping your arms around his neck to support yourself while the two of you laugh. It’s stupid and ridiculous and you’re not quite sure what you’re laughing at—just that you are. 
You’re laughing and laughing and suddenly his lips are on yours and his eyes are closed and—fuck, he’s kissing you. And then you’re not laughing anymore, your hands brushing up his neck and tangling in his hair. He’s not laughing anymore either, his hands gripping your waist like he expects you to leave at any moment.
You’re breathless when you pull away, refusing to open your eyes and face the reality in front of you. Because maybe the world didn’t shift on its axis when he learned your porn preferences, but it definitely has because he just kissed you.
He taps your cheek gently, using that terribly calm voice he does whenever you start spiralling. “Y/n.” He coos, “open your eyes, y/n.”
You bite your lip, shaking your head in refusal. You know as soon as you do, you’ll have to confront your feelings for him, and his for you, and all of that is just too much and god, when did it get so hot in here? 
You open your eyes one at a time, casting them down to where your thighs rest on his. Your hands come together, fingers twirling in your lap just to give you something to focus on other than the throbbing in your clit and the weight of Dick’s eyes on you.
He drags a finger down your overheating cheeks, tracing the outline of your jaw and tipping your head up to face him. His blue eyes are lined with something new, something darker—a need you’ve never seen before. 
“Look at me.” There’s a commanding tone to his voice before it softens, “c’mon, please?”
You finally force yourself to meet his eyes, the familiar ultramarine calming the sudden bite of your nerves. “Only cause you asked so nicely,” you say quietly. 
“Good girl,” he smiles and it feels like the sun pushing through rain clouds. He strokes your cheek gently, his thumb landing on your cupid's bow. 
You shiver beneath his touch despite the unbearable heat of the day. While his finger on your lips threatens to send you flying away, spiralling into space, his other does the opposite. His grip on your hip is tight, fingers digging in and sure to leave behind bruises. 
“Can I kiss you again?” He asks quietly. 
It’s only a small mercy that your nod doesn’t prompt another ‘good girl’ from him, or some other horribly delightful variation of it. However, when his lips brush yours and his hand slides to the base of your throat, all of the thoughts melt away. There’s no embarrassment, no overthinking, just raw emotion and the sensation of his skin on yours. 
You shift in his lap, sliding one of your thighs over his so you can straddle him. Dick offers a guiding hand while you slide forward, half steadying you, half tugging you closer. You shimmy up the length of his jeans until you’re as close as possible, your stomach pressing into his toned abs. 
A gasp leaves your throat when your clit brushes the very edge of the bulge in his jeans, the noise only edging him along. His teeth graze your bottom lip, both gentle and desperate, before his tongue slips into your mouth. 
The taste of him is intoxicating, consuming you until you’re grabbing his cheeks with both hands to pull him as close as possible. You whine when his cock grazes your clit again and Dick breaks the kiss to let out a breathy laugh against your lips. 
“Someone’s needy,” he teases, but his eyes are rimmed with dark and when he looks at you through his lashes, all you see is need. 
“Back at you.”
His palm sticks to your cheek with sweat when he goes to pull it away. “You’ve been so good for me today,” he hums, his other hand trailing up your thigh. “Let me take care of you, yeah?”
You mumble a breathy ‘please’ before his fingers are brushing your clit through your pants, the heat pooling in your panties near insatiable. You tighten your grip on him and bury your face in the tight black fabric of his t-shirt to muffle your heavy breathing.
While one hand rubs intense figure eights up the length of your pussy, his other hand is fiddling with the buttons of your pants. He sighs in triumph at the soft popping noise and then the fabric is pulling away from your skin, Dick somehow managing to tug them down with only one hand. 
You shift in his lap and prop yourself up on your knees to give him better access while he drags the fabric down your thighs. He takes advantage of your position to spin you to face your monitor once more, leaning back in the chair so you’re reclined against his muscled chest.
Warm breath fans the overheating skin of your neck just where your shirt meets your skin. Two calloused fingers dip into the waistband of your underwear, skimming the warmth and slick of your cunt. Dick sucks in a breath, his pants suddenly too tight.
“You really are needy,” he swallows hard. “Lovely, needy girl.”
His words only serve as a catalyst to the intense need you feel in your core, amplifying your desire tenfold. The pad of his index finger brushes your clit and you’re suddenly a goner. Your eyes squeeze shut and you throw your head back, imagining the circles of Dick’s fingers in your mind.
He gently kisses at the neckline of your shirt, his lips soft against the sensitive skin. His tongue runs across the sensitive skin there in tandem with the moving of his hand, the duality sending shockwaves through you. You have to bite your lip to keep from crying out his name.
His wrist slides further into your underwear, fingers moving away from your swollen clit to run along the rim of your aching pussy. You suck in a breath, not moving an inch while you anticipate what’s to come.
Dick sucks a dark mark into your neck. “Ready f’me?” He mumbles into your skin.
You eagerly nod, trying to shift your hips into his fingers and shove them inside of you, but Dick moves away. You frown, lazily looking over your shoulder at him.
“You have to use your words.”
You almost roll your eyes but in your desperation, let your head hang in defeat and open your trembling mouth. “I-I’m ready Dick,” you say, quietly adding, “please.”
“Good girl.” 
Then he’s suddenly slipping a finger inside of you, travelling the length of your spongy walls to sit deep inside of you. A gasp rips through you, his name tumbling off your lips faster than you can catch it. He grips your hip to steady you, strong fingers bruising the exposed skin.
He curls his finger inside of you, prodding at that sweet fucking sensitive spot. He only stops when you whine, slipping his finger out for only a second before shoving it back in. He repeats the motion, starting a rhythm of thrusting in and out, his hand on your hip tapping along in tandem.
You squirm in his lap, that ball in the centre of your stomach turning white hot and growing until you can barely contain it. One of your hands squeezes his wrist—whether to stop or encourage him, you don’t know.
“Dick,” you whine, your voice taking on a raspy tone you hardly recognize.
He hums in response. “Does that feel good?”
“S-so good.”
He rewards you by slipping his other finger inside of you, the two of them working in unison. His fingers are so long and thick that they reach places inside you that you’ve never been able to touch on your own, stretching your walls just enough to make your eyes roll back.
The impending waves of your orgasm roll over you, that knot in your core so tight that you know it's bound to undo any second. You squeeze his wrist tighter in warning, your fingers pressing into his veins until you can feel the steady thrum of his blood pulsing. 
Dick slips his hand from your waist up your shirt, palming your tit. “Cum for me,” he murmurs. “You’ve earned it, sweetheart.”
His words walk you right over the edge, that knot finally coming undone and sending wave after wave of molten pleasure through you. Every muscle in your body contracts, your pussy squeezing his fingers so tightly it almost hurts. Both your hands clench around the wrist currently in your underwear. Holding him steady while you ride out your high on his fingers.
Dick holds you, keeping you stable while you gush and thrash wildly in his lap. He can feel your slick soak through the fabric of his jeans, his thighs warm with your juices, but he can’t bring himself to care. 
He trails kisses up your neck to your jaw, your cheeks and finally, tips your head back until he can plant soft, chaste kisses to your lips. His wrist aches from how hard you squeeze him but he doesn’t dare pull away until your muscles are relaxing and you let out your first, panting breath.
“Feel good?” He prompts.
You shake your head vigorously, all sweaty hair and hot skin and aching lungs. Dick almost wishes he had a camera because the sight of you laying in his lap all fucked out is one he would love to savor and put in his wallet.
He shifts behind you, only now remembering his aching cock and how badly it yearns to be free of the denim confining it. “Think you could do one more? For me? It would make me feel so, so good, sweetheart.”
You don’t think twice about his words, lazily trapping his lips in a sloppy needy kiss and mumbling ‘yes’ against him. In your fucked out state, you’re only half sure that you’re even speaking, the world around you fading. Dick slips his hand out of your panties, his palm soaked with your juices, and rests it on your thigh. 
“I need you to stand up for me,” he says, only half asking. 
He helps you up on shaky knees, your pants that had been resting just above your knees dropping the rest of the way to the floor. You brace yourself against the desk, half bent over while Dick slowly tugs down your panties. The minute the sticky, soaked fabric peels away from your pussy, you gasp.
Dick stares at the mess he’s made of you proudly, your folds glistening with the slick of your last orgasm. He burns the image into his mind while he fumbles with the zipper of his jeans, standing behind you while he drags them to the floor with his boxers. His cock springs free, thick and dripping with pre cum, begging for you.
He strokes it absentmindedly, all of his thoughts only on you and your trembling thighs, bent so perfectly over the desk waiting for him. He lines the head of his cock up with your entrance, rubbing it through your folds and prodding your clit before repeating the process over again.
Each shift of his cock, each rock of his hips, forces shivers of anticipation down your spine. Heavy breaths leave your lips, your arms barely managing to hold your weight over the desk when you dip your head down to stare at him through the crook of your arm.
“Such a pretty pussy. So wet and needy,” he groans when he finally lets his cock rest at your entrance. “So ready for my cock.”
You nod even though he’s mostly talking to himself. You let your arms sag against the desk and rest your face against your forearm, the sweaty skin sticking to your forehead. Dick thrusts forwards and lets the head of his cock push inside of you.
Moans leave him the second he dips into your heat, the tip of his cock stretching you in a way that has both of your eyes rolling back. His fingers resume their earlier position on your hip, digging in so hard it almost hurts. 
He stills once his tip is nestled in your walls, listening to the whiny breaths you let out while you adjust to his size. Your clench your hands into fists, slightly shifting from left to right to help him fit better. He’s big, bigger than you expected, but the way he molds your walls to his cock is almost enough to have you cum right then and there.
Dick is so distracted by the sight of his cock dipped inside of you that he doesn’t remember to move. It’s only when you let out a needy whine and shuffle your hips backwards that he realizes you’ve been waiting so patiently for him.
He snaps his hips against yours, the head of his cock barreling so deep inside of you so quickly that it almost hurts. “Sorry, pretty girl,” he pants, “didn’t mean to make you wait.”
You try to tell him that it’s okay but you’re silenced with another hard thrust. You cry out his name into your arm, your teeth grazing at your skin in your attempt to be quiet. Dick grabs the other side of your waist, using his hands to push and pull you as he pleases.
You fall further against the desk, your body lazily resting against it while Dick’s hips snap into yours repeatedly. The room is filled with the sound of skin on skin, a chorus of your combined moans filling the empty space between thrusts. Each shift of his hips, each prod of his cock, only spurs you further along.
You squeeze your eyes shut, completely focused on his cock battering its way through your walls. You’re only vaguely aware of Dick talking to you, his praise sounding incoherent beneath the rush of blood to your ears. Your pussy flutters around him, his cock scraping your cervix with every thrust.
He thrusts particularly hard into you, his cock jamming hard into the very edge of your walls, forcing a loud cry from you. It aches as much as it pleases, and without thinking, you’re suddenly crawling forward across your desk. Dick tightens his grip on you before you can get very far, tugging you back hard against him and slamming your pussy down on his cock.
You nearly squeal from the pleasure, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. That familiar heat builds inside of you once more, spilling over more and more with each intense thrust.
“You’re taking me so well,” he coos. “So tight—god, it’s like your pussy was made for me. Fuck.”
His lewd words add to that growing knot inside of you and suddenly you’re coming undone in his arms. Everything is too hot, too much, too loud. Tears spill from your eyes and you’re barely aware of the half sobs, half moans you let out through your orgasm.
“That’s right, let it all out. Good girl, cumming around my cock like that.”
Dick holds you steady the whole time you cum, thrusts growing sloppy as your pussy sucks him in and tries to keep him inside of you forever. He’s almost as breathless as you while he watches you cum and the way your pussy seizes around him is enough to have him tumbling over the edge after you.
He wraps both arms around your waist, pulling your hips flush to his, before he lets the both of you fall back into the chair behind him. Your new position forces his cock deeper inside of you—as deep as it can go—and then he’s cumming inside of you.
You can barely feel the hot ropes of cum he spills inside of you while you come down from your own high. Your thighs shake where they rest over his and you’re grateful for him holding you. 
Dick lets his forehead rest in the crook of your neck, his sweaty hair wetting your t-shirt. Even after he’s done cumming, he holds you tightly against him, the two of you panting in sync.
It’s nearly five minutes later when you can finally bring yourself to speak, your hoarse voice evidence of the pounding you’ve just taken. “I take it you saw my browsing history?” are the first words out of your mouth.
Dick laughs, his voice gravelly and deep and sexy. “Yeah,” he says, kissing your cheek. “I did.”
You awkwardly turn in his lap, twitching at the way it adjusts his half-hard cock inside of you. You look up at his eyes, the blue finally starting to seep back in through the dark. He cups your face, his hand sweaty, and pulls you in for another kiss.
When you pull away, you can’t help but ask, “so, what now?”
“First, I think I should show you how to use Incognito Mode.”
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k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9 · 1 month ago
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Meat Loaf – You Took The Words Right Out My Mouth (Hot Summer Night)
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upsidedownwithsteve · 11 months ago
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[2.1K] Steve Harrington x fem!reader 18+
The week following your night with Steve, you’d had absolutely no problem getting yourself off.
Every night, you lay in bed before sleep took over, your hand shoved down the front of your sleep shorts, fingers slipping clumsily and a little unpracticed over yourself, eyes clenched shut and lips parted silently as you thought about your best friend.
His digits were longer than yours, thicker, able to reach places you couldn’t, filling you up in a way you’d never felt before. But you could hear Steve’s voice in your ear as you swirled messy circles over your clit, chasing that throbbing feeling as you remembered his words.
“Has someone done that to you? Has someone put their mouth here?”
Cheek pressed to the pillow, pushing low whines into the cotton, legs spreading wider, knees hitched up as you fought to catch that feeling only Steve was able to give you before.
“Do you like it when I talk to you?”
He’d whispered it in your ear, breath warm against your cheek, hitching and gasping when you had tightened around him.
“My girl likes hearing dirty things, right? Like when I asked you if someone had gone down on you? If you’d had someone’s tongue here?”
Stomach tensing, the hook there tightening, skin too warm, the idea of your best friend laying between your thighs, your legs thrown over his shoulders too much for you to handle. Would he do it real soft for you? Would he lick over you like a man starved? Only breaking away to talk filth into your slick skin? Would he tell you how good you tasted, how sweet you were?
You came hard, back arching, a gasp leaving your lips, fingers moving until it was too much and you had to stop, sliding slick over your bare stomach as you relaxed back into the bed, butter on a hot day.
The next day, you vowed to ask Steve.
Just half a beer, that’s all it took. A few long drags, a movie that was never started, the tape half in the VCR and Steve’s bedroom lights low. Lingering looks, mussed sheets, anticipation heavy in the air like summer, a growing heat that settled on your skin and it fucking buzzed. It fizzed, it glittered.
“Did you really mean what you said?” You asked out the blue, pulling Steve from the TV set, leaning back on his pillows like you belonged there. “The other night, last week? About how it was a shame that no one had— no had ever… gone down on me.”
Steve stopped, the tape forgotten, his eyes wide as he looked at you over his shoulder. He watched the way your thighs rubbed together under your dress, a thin summery thing, delicate straps and material cut out of the sides, your skin on show between the buttercup yellow cotton. You watched him swallow, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as his gaze got a little darker, the words he remembered telling you coming back to him.
“Shit, you look so damn pretty, you know that? I could do that for you though, if you wanted.”
Steve cleared his throat, rose up from when he’d been kneeling in front of the television, blurry static crackling, forgotten about. His knees bumped the edge of his bed as stood over you, breath hitching as he took you in, eyes trailing over bare legs and upupup until they settled on your mouth, the way you licked at your bottom lip nervously.
“Yeah,” he croaked, his voice already shot. You looked so pretty. He remembered what you looked like when you came, head thrown back against his shoulder, crying out his name in soft, heaving gasps. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it. “Yeah, yeah. I meant it.”
“Could put my mouth on you, let you know if you’re really as sweet as you look.”
“Have you been thinkin’ about it?” Steve asked, his voice sweet and soft. He smiled when you nodded, huffing out a breath like it was all too much. “Yeah? Fuck, sweetheart, so have I. Did you get yourself off, did you manage?”
He wanted to be filthier, he wanted to ask dirty, dirty questions. He wanted to know exactly what you thought about when you touched yourself. If you thought about him, if you got as wet as you had with him the week before. He wanted to know if you made the same noises in the quiet of your own room, if you whispered his name when you came.
Instead, Steve moved onto the bed, a little clumsy as the mattress dipped but he stayed by your feet, a hand reaching out to bravely curl around your ankle, your frill lined socks tickling his palm. One tug and he could spread your bent knees open for him, dragging you down his bed until your hair fanned over his pillows and he could push your thighs apart. Steve wondered if you’d let him.
Maybe he could find out.
You nodded, lips parted and already panting, barely able to form words. Steve’s thumb was circling over the skin of your ankle, slowly coasting upwards until his warm palm sat against your calf. He rubbed there too, fingers pushing at your skin like dough, all plush and soft and pliant for him. Your thighs parted, if just a little.
“Every night,” you whispered, eyes closing at his touch, the heated embarrassment creeping over your skin at your confession. You weren’t sure you were supposed to look your best friend in the eye when you told them you’d come on your own fingers, thinking about them. “Couldn’t help it, just- just needed to touch myself.”
You heard the boy groan, low and throaty, his hand climbing higher, laying on his side at your feet so you could feel his warm breath ghost over your shins. You let your legs fall apart again, inch by inch, eyes still closed until your feet slid across the sheets in opposite directions, knees parting. You felt Steve’s lips there, on the inside, at the sensitive skin, a barely there kiss.
“Did you come?”
You swore, breath hitching, nodding as you chewed on your bottom lip, hands coming up to press over your eyes, as if you could hide from him. Mortification was crawling over you, despite how Steve had had his fingers inside of you mere days before, how he’d watched you come, how he had a clear view of your spread thighs and the damp cotton clinging to your cunt, right now.
“Can I make you come again?” The boy sounded wrecked and the question made you open your eyes, gaze stuck on his like honey. “Please.”
You nodded, as if you’d ever say no to that. Like that wasn’t what you wanted.
You expected the boy to launch himself at you then, to grab and pull and kiss and nip. But as heavy as Steve’s gaze was, he moved slow, careful. His hands found your ankles again, one around each leg and he dragged them further apart, his eyes on yours. The static of the TV fizzed and outside the open bedroom window, you heard the Harrington’s sprinklers turn on.
“Lemme see,” Steve whispered, his tone that same sweet rasp as before. He nodded encouragingly when your hands found the hem of your dress, his smile soft, if not a little dirty. His chest was falling and rising faster and faster, his white t-shirt taught over his broad chest and shoulders. “There’s a good girl, fuck, honey.”
You flushed as you did as you were told, the hem of your sundress dragging up your thighs by your own hands. The material was still fisted between your fingers as you held it around your hips, legs spread obscenely, cotton underwear a cherry red, lace trimmed and with an obvious damp spot.
“Can I use my mouth?” Steve asked, murmuring, already moving between your knees, his stomach pressed to the bed. “Wanna taste you properly. Shit, can I do that? Please? Let me show you how good I can make you feel?”
You whined, high and needy, nodding enthusiastically as you sucked in a breath. “Fuck, can you? Please, Steve, I want that, god, I really want that, haven’t stopped thinking about it, imagining it, shit.”
You swore Steve’s eyes rolled at your words, his hands coming to curl around the back of your thighs, pulling you closer to him, nose pushing at where your hands lay over your stomach, still clutching your dress. He pressed a kiss there, lips grazing over the skin under your navel.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”
You didn’t get a chance to reply before the boy was bringing his mouth down, open and pushing against your clothed cunt, tongue a hot, wet press over your folds, prodding gently until he found your clit between them. It was an instantaneous reaction, your body seizing up at the unfamiliar touch, an electric sensation, your body a livewire under Steve’s lips. He hushed you softly when you gave a weak cry, pushing at your inner thighs to keep you open for him.
He licked up your cunt, tongue dragging over the cotton, soaking it more and more until the fabric was clinging to the outline of you, until he could tease the tip of his nose over the spread of you, bumping against your clit. The noise your cunt made as he finally pulled your underwear from you was filthy, a wet sound that made his cock kick up in his jeans.
“Feel good?” Steve cooed, voice sticky with affection and awe for you. Your dress was rucked messily over your stomach, one strap sliding off your shoulder as he hooked your legs over his shoulders, bringing your bare cunt closer than before. Each word settled over your slick skin and made you twitch. “Nice, yeah? You gonna tell me, honey? Tell me how good I’m makin’ you feel, huh?”
“So good,” you breathed out, voice and words garbled between moans, your hands dropping from your stomach to clutch at the sheets on each side of you. But Steve wasn’t having any of that. He tsked, letting go of your legs only to coax your hands into his hair instead, hissing when you grabbed hard. “Fuck, Steve, please. More, please, feels so good, too good, I can’t, I--”
He wouldn’t have you begging, he wouldn’t dare. Steve wanted to give you everything you wanted, so he wasted no more time, surging forward the mere few inches it took to get his mouth back on you. Steve kissed over your cunt with the enthusiasm of a man who’d been starved of the one thing he wanted most. Lips pressed to you, tongue sneaking out to taste you, gathering up your slick only to press it to your clit. He hummed as you cried for him, eyes squeezing shut as you pulled on his hair, tugging him closer until his tongue was pushing into your entrance and his nose was nudging your clit.
He was shiny with you, mouth and chin wet and slick, eyes fluttering shut and rolling to the back of his head every time you gave his hair a good yank, your hips lifting to catch his tongue. He groaned, murmuring out pretty phrases like, ‘such a good girl’ and ‘so fuckin’ sweet for me.’
Steve lapped at you until you came, tongue soft but persistent, intent on you making you fall apart with just his mouth, groaning in want as he watched your entrance clench around nothing. He sucked and licked at your clit until you shattered, until you couldn’t take it any longer. Your back arched like last time, head thrown back into the pillows that smelled like him instead of against his shoulder, but Steve decided he liked this view just as much.
The boy tasted like you when you kissed him, half dragging him up your body as you panted, dress still messy around your waist, unabashed in your nakedness. Unlike the time before, Steve was miraculously still hard, desperate and aching under his jeans as he’d tried his best not to rut against the bed as he ate you out. Your palm grazed over his cock, smiled into his kiss when it twitched under your hand, his hips canting into your touch.
You only pulled away from his lips to press him onto the bed, switching your positions. Your dress fell back down, covering your sticky thighs and Steve was ready to protest, until you tucked your fingers around the button of his jeans and popped it open.
He let out a curse, breathing heavily, eyes half lidded and watching you. You quirked a brow, asking a silent question you were pretty sure you knew the answer to - this wasn’t a case of a friend helping a friend, not anymore.
You waited. Steve nodded.
1K notes · View notes
star-crossed-sluts · 5 months ago
Note
I saw that you write for so many of my favorite fictional men and wanted to request something for Venom or Lucifer x fem Reader involving Micro/Macro and Toys if possible ^^
Unfortunately, I realized after receiving this that micro/macro is different from size kink and I'd put the wrong one on my list, but I took the chance to write the sappy, filthy Venom fic I've always wanted to <3
I'd also like to note reader is described as soft and plush, but also drowning in Eddie's shirt. This is not meant to alienate any particular body type, I simply choose to write Eddie Brock as the broadest mfer who needs shirts with multiple X's on the tag to accommodate his beefy shoulders.
Contents: 4.8k words, female reader, chubby reader coded, playful banter, monstrous tongue and penis, oral sex (fem receiving), clit pinching, size kink, kitchen counter sex, I love you's exchanged, tentacles, multiple arms, poly issues, healthy discussion of feelings after sex, multiple orgasms (fem receiving), coming inside, breeding kink, doggy style sex, aftercare, talk of proper after sex peeing, talk of UTIs, post-coitus cuddles
Minors DNI
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“You’re wearing our shirt.”
The plural pronoun sends a shiver down your spine despite the wet summer heat invading the apartment. Thick fingers run down your exposed neck and across your shoulder. “Yes,” you say, even though it wasn’t a question. You glance back just to be sure and see Eddie staring down at you. “It’s too hot.” It’s a warning as much as a complaint. It’s too hot to do anything. 
“Poor little one.” The voice coming from your boyfriend’s lips wasn’t his, but it made your core throb all the same. “Precious thing doesn’t deserve to suffer.” 
“No,” Eddie agreed. His hands rub firm lines down your arms and over your waist, playing with the excess fabric his shirt drowned you in. “No, my sweet-”
“Our!” 
He huffed, face falling to the crook of your neck, arms wrapping tight like a band around your waist. Despite your urge to smother this frisky mood, you couldn't not comfort your love, fingers threading through his short hair. Hot breath washed over the tender skin, dull teeth scraping against you. 
“I had you first.” 
You pulled him off your neck, pressing your lips to his. His moans rumbled through you, mouth opening, practically begging for your tongue, but you pulled him back off. 
“Of course you did, baby.” You could see him bristle, knowing Venom was surely making his displeasure known, and pulled him back in. Eddie dove eagerly for your lips, but you pressed him back, hands on his shoulders trailing down his chest as you nudged his nose with yours. “You two ever going to get along?” 
“Yes,” 
“No,” 
“Yeah, that sounds about right,” you giggled out, pressing another soft kiss to his lips. Before, that would settle him. Nights when you both knew he needed to be at the office in six hours but still got lost in each other, you would force yourself to be the responsible one. Tongues lapping behind teeth became soft and slow kisses that often missed, grazing the stubble on his chin or dancing across his eyelids. Your hands rubbing over his chest would settle him, leaving him limp under your touch as you worked out his trouble spots. 
That was before the equivalent of a 21-year-old on Viagra was piggybacking in his body. 
He picked you up like it was nothing, fingers cold on your bare hip where they sank into the plush fat, swallowing your squeak as he placed you on the counter. 
“Sweetheart,” 
You knew that voice. Even half garbled with another man’s, you knew that voice. 
“Baby, I'm so hot,” you pleaded, even as your nails raked down the back of his neck to make him purr against you. 
“Yes, you are,” 
Ah, fuck it. 
“Shirt,” you demanded, tugging at his collar. His desperate scramble to get it off made your lips curl against his, lapping your tongue into his mouth to make it even harder on him: to hear him groan like you were hurting him. 
He had to pull away to get the fabric over his head. When he pushed back in half a second later, his tongue hit the back of your throat. 
They practically dripped saliva down your throat, swallowing every sound you made as you choked on their thick tongue. Your boyfriend’s lips were suddenly cold and slick against your own, his hands bigger and sending chills through your overheated body as they felt their way up your shirt. Growls poured into your mouth, big palms finding your bare tits - cupping reverently, letting the soft fat fill their palms, lifting them off your chest.
“Sweet girl pretends not to want us,” they muttered, pulling their tongue from your throat to taste the sweat beading down your neck, letting you pant into the hot apartment, trying to calm your pulse as it throbbed against their tongue. “But you strut around naked under our shirt?” 
You took their wrist in response, dragging their thick fingers down, down, over your soft stomach - having to tug them along as they tried to follow your stretch marks instead - until they found their way between your wet folds. You let a smug grin spread your lips, even if the noise rumbling out of them said you’d pay for it. “I always want you,” you admitted, sighing at the soft pleasure as those slick fingers pet over your puffy folds. “I’m just an adult who can manage myself.” 
Eddie came back to you, performing a scorned boyfriend with a dramatic gasp. “How dare you,” he accused, nipping at your plush bottom lip. “I manage myself just fine.” 
“Yeah, I can see-” You squealed, high-pitched and mortifying and totally not your fault since he’s the bastard that pinched your poor clit. Your fist came down on his shoulder. “Asshole!”
“Hey, Vee did it!”
“Did not!” 
“Oh, you’re such a little-” 
“Lord,” you griped, pushing his hand away. Two distinct voices whimpered at the loss, the black slime-like substance that made Venom’s body swirling over Ed’s as they fought each other for control, Eddie’s eyes flashing white then back to your beloved bluish gray. “All right,” you decided finally. “You two need to learn to cooperate before someone gets caught in the middle! I’ve got too many sensitive squishy bits to let you past second base if you’re going to get pissy in the middle of things.”
Oh. Oh. Oh, you may have fucked up. You could practically see the will to live evaporate off both of them at the mere prospect of a world without your body. Venom’s goo turned watery, nearly dripping off of Eddie’s skin - as if he wanted to make sure you knew just how heartbroken you’d made him. And Eddie! Your poor boyfriend’s perfected the sad puppy look, big glossy eyes and a desperate rasp to every breath.
Damn it, why does he look so hot when he’s pathetic?
“You know I’d never let anything happen to you, sweetheart,” he stressed, nudging his nose against yours - a meek attempt to get you to forget anything that didn’t involve him being buried in your thighs. 
“I’d eat every soul on this pathetic planet before bringing you anything but pleasure.” 
“Very romantic, both of you,” you assured, carding your fingers through Eddie’s hair. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, you gently stroked Venom where he was bubbling to the surface on your boyfriend’s cheek. Both men leaned into your touch, nestling into your palm like it was home. You gently guided them back to your lips, laying soft kisses over their face. “Can you be good for me?” 
“Mmm, I can be so good to you, sweetheart, you know I can.” 
An eager grin spread from their lips to yours, sharing a wet kiss before you tapped their shoulders, nudging them down. “Show me?”
You may as well have offered them the world. In a way, you have: you’ve offered yourself. They gladly dropped to their knees, open-mouthed kisses pressed to your inner thighs, climbing higher and higher as you spread your legs for them. Neither was one to tease, and it was barely a beat before you had to brace your hands on the countertop behind you as their long, slick tongue lapped between your folds. 
“So sweet,” they mumbled against your lips, easing their tongue into your pussy to lap at your inner walls. “Can we make you come, baby? Can you take several tonight?” 
You opened your mouth to respond, but a soft suckle to your clit pulled a moan from your throat before you could get a word out. “Haa- several?” A deep growl rolled through their tongue inside you, curling to press on the spot Eddie knew by heart and Venom diligently took note of, working the thick muscle in your cunt. “Hey, I didn’t-” Their thumb - coated by Venom to ensure a slick glide - strummed your clit in soft circles. “Ah, fuck, Eds! Yes, I can take it!” One hand snapped to their head, fingers sinking into the soft locks to force them still as you rocked your hips against their face. 
Normally, you wouldn’t consider yourself easy to please. Months of slow exploratory sex finally led to Eddie knowing how to bring you to the edge better than yourself. 
Normally, your boyfriend’s tongue wasn’t nine inches and dripping thick spit, making a mess of your poor cunt he’d started fucking open on his tongue. 
“Such a good pet for us,” they purred without moving their lips, Venom’s voice becoming more dominant. If you pried your eyes open, you could see him slowly hiding away the pale skin of your boyfriend: half his burly chest jet black and gaining bulk with every second. Their tongue and fingers faltered, and you watched their brows furrow.
“Be nice,” you reminded, but they didn’t pay you attention until you yanked on Eddie’s hair. “Boys,” you drawled, pulling your shirt over your head. Their movements immediately turned lazy: thumb falling short of your pearl, tongue slowing to soft laps at your walls as they practically gave you heart eyes. “Gotta be good.”
“We’re good,” they swore, even as Venom reached out with thin tendrils to pluck your nipples into peaks. “Just need our sweet girl to come on our tongue. And our fingers, and our cock-”
“So needy,” you teased, stroking down their sharp nose. 
Maybe it was mean to tease your boyfriend so much. Maybe the alien cohabitating his body has a shorter fuse than Eddie. Maybe they were both so wound up from seeing you in Eddie’s shirt, sweat dotting your brow, the cusp of your ass peeking at them whenever you lifted your arms.
Maybe you should’ve thought of this before you were laid out across the counter. 
Their tongue dove deeper into your cunt until you thought you couldn’t take anymore, then curled around and came back, double-stuffing your poor cunt to the brim, folds sticking together with your own slick and their spit. Their thumb on your clit became two thick fingers rolling the poor bud between them, pinching meanly at every squirm you gave - doing the same to your nipples as they slowly turned red under their touch.
“Cruel precious!” Your back arched off the countertop, scrambling for anything to hold onto as they started fucking you on their giant tongue. Sloppy, wet sounds of sex filled the kitchen, a burning heat crawling up your neck as they shamelessly worked you over, collecting your ankles in one hand to fold you in half. The burn in your thighs was nothing compared to the wave of pleasure every pinch, every thrust, every strum of your clit brought crashing over your body. It felt like you were getting your pussy stretched - guts rearranged - by the biggest cock on Earth, except a cock doesn’t lick and suck and roll inside you. 
“Pretty thing always loves to tease,” they grumbled against you, their voice vibrating through your skull, filling your head with their words, making it the only thing on your mind besides the need to come. “Acting like you aren’t desperate for us.”
“Fuck, Eds-” A sharp pinch to your clit, the flat faces of even sharper teeth pressing warnings against your inner thighs. “Venom!” They rewarded you: a deep, pleased rumble running up your spine as the pointed tip of their tongue rubbed shapes into your g-spot. They let you writhe and buck against their face, tongue easily keeping you filled wherever you go. Your lungs were full of fire, sweat-slicked palms sliding on the counter as you tried not to fall completely onto their shoulders. “Please, Venom,” you whined, “make me come! You’re both so good to me! Don’t you want me to feel good?”
Oh, the guilt trip worked every time. Won’t you make me feel good? Don’t I deserve it? No matter how you dished it out, the result was the same. They melted under you - literally, in this instance, Venom dripping off Eddie’s arms - tongue working harder inside of you, pushing deeper, fingers rolling over your poor bud. Venom’s cruel pinching all over your breasts became a more loving caress, slick tendrils swiping over your stiff peaks like soft kitten licks. 
“Want to make you come,” they rumbled, eating your cunt like it would be their last meal. “Always look so beautiful when you come. We'd be so happy to have you on our face all night.” 
You could feel every nerve screwing up tighter and tighter as they worked you up, your body falling limp in their hold as they carried you over the edge. “Oooh, that sounds so nice, baby,” you breathed as you came back down. You reached out, a greedy smile pulling on your lips when their fingers laced with yours without a thought: your cutthroat journalist boyfriend and his brain-eating alien alike putty in your presence. On their knees to worship your body, eager to hold your hand at the slightest sign that you’d allow it. It made the words fall from your lips that much easier. “But I think if you don’t take me to bed this second, I’ll smother you.” 
“Win-win,” they purred before they hurled you over their shoulder. “You should sit on our tongue after we fuck you.” 
“Vee, I plan on being comatose after this.” 
“That is acceptable as well,” they decided. Hands as large as your torso lowered you gently to the bed, arranging you on your hands and knees carefully - like a porcelain doll settled into her new home on the shelf. “Precious one?” 
You gushed, chest swelling, lips spreading wide as your smile took over your whole face, fingers dancing across the sheets until their thick ones intertwined with yours. “Mmm, yes, my love?”
A deep purr rumbled from the barrel chest against your back, long tongue curling along your jaw as they formed their body to yours. Their wine-bottle thick cock spread your folds, rutting against your clit, letting you soak them in a vain attempt to make the entrance easier. “How do you want us?” 
Fingers wrapped through yours, palms to the backs of your hands, chest to your back - they had you completely surrounded, encased in them. You turned your head, kissing their arm. “Take me,”
Your boyfriend was by no means a small man. Eddie’s always been broad. Thick arms, thick thighs, and a lovely thick cock that spread you like it was your first together all over again.
Venom’s weeping tip struggled to press past your lips. It took a few tries - a few, bullying thrusts - to fit the fat head into your cunt. The rest of their shaft went smoother, his hips rocking back and forth, fitting just a bit more into you each time as your slick covered them. Stretching your walls around their huge cock, head battering your insides as they stubbornly refused to let your body take anything less than all of them. It felt like Venom was purposely swelling his slick skin, just to make sure every sensitive nerve got some love - just to hear the breathless moans drip out of you like the sweetest nectar. 
“Ours,” they gushed, hips beginning to properly piston into you, bouncing off your ass. Fingers occupied with yours, thin tendrils pulled off their torso and wrapped around your body, lifting you until your dangling fingertips barely brushed the sheets, pulled into Venom’s malleable chest like a waterbed. You’re sure they’d wrap completely around you if you’d allow it: envelop you completely, keep you so close there was no firm line separating your bodies. 
Their tongue sank past your lips as if hearing you and agreeing, licking their way to the back of your throat. “Our pretty darling’s so sweet,” they purred, pressing their cock so deep inside you you thought they must be licking their own leaking slit inside you. “Should wear our shirt all the time: let us lick you up whenever we want.”
Your throat pulsed on their tongue as it slithered out, licking their own drool off your chin as you panted breathlessly. “You… haa… you both want to do that all the time, though.”
Their chest rumbled against your back with laughter at your expense, tendrils pulling you impossibly closer and splitting apart to tenderly stroke your clit and nipples. The steady thrum of another orgasm building ran through your nerves like electricity, but beyond that, a smile grew on your face. Because even with an alien tagging along, your boyfriend can’t leave an inch of your body untouched when he fucks you. He’s insatiable enough when he’s bound by anatomy, always kissing up your neck and rubbing your soft waist when he’s rocking his hips into yours - it only got worse when Venom got the green light to join in. Suddenly Eddie had a dozen hands, reaching everywhere to touch everything, almost as if it was for his pleasure instead of yours. Almost as if he wouldn’t - or couldn’t - come without your tits filling his palms and your gummy walls sucking on his cock.
“Can’t be helped,” they purred into your neck as your walls fluttered around them. Their hips stuttered against yours, pace changing to something slow and hard, dragging their fat cock against every nerve, punching their mushroomed tip to your cervix to try to force a path deeper into you. Their shoved their tongue back down your throat the second you opened your mouth to cry out, swallowing your moans before they even left your lips. “Such a pretty thing should always have her pussy filled. Lips kissed, hands held, fucked so dumb she goes limp on our cock-”
“‘Ee,” you struggled through their tongue and your own delirium, gasping for air when they pulled it out of your throat. “Vee,” you moaned, lightning running through your veins as your walls fluttered around them. You could hear the wet squelch that accompanied every trust, feel the creamy slick gathering at their base and running down your thighs, sticking to theirs with every solid connection their hips made against you. 
“Yes, little one,” they cooed, nuzzling against the side of your head. Their hips hammered into you, efforts on your clit doubling as your whole body started to quiver so cutely in their arms. “Tell us what you need to come. We’ll give you anything, love, just tell us-”
“Kiss.” A heat washed over your cheeks and down your neck, but you persisted. “Eddie… kiss!” A sob fell from your lips when they remained poor and alone, throwing your hips back on his. “Eddie, please! Vee, give me my boyfriend!” Your dangling feet kicked through the air as the silence stretched, small growls traded back and forth in the same voice as the two argued with that special connection that only the two of them shared. The thought spurred you further, shaking your hands intertwined with theirs. “Baby, please!” 
A slick noise, like tentacles separating, and the scruff of Eddie’s stubble raked deliciously against your neck, lips kissing up to your jaw just to tease you further. A desperate whine from your lips, and he finally caved, licking into your mouth like he could devour you entirely. His lips felt like home, washing over you so warm and soft even as he pounded into your sopping pussy - but then again, that was home to him. Fucking your soft body until you were limp and pliant for him, your usual banter dying on the tip of your tongue. 
“Gonna come, sweetheart,” he breathed against your lips, flicking his chin to bump his nose with yours just to make you smile and giggle against him. “Gotta tell me-”
“Inside.” He started to smile, a laugh building in his chest as you freed one hand to weakly smack him for it. “I swear, Eddie, if you think about pulling out-”
“I know,” he soothed, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek as he chased his orgasm, Venom dutifully working your body to bring you yours, too. “I know, baby, you just wanna get filled up, yeah? ‘S why you need both of us, huh? You need us to fuck up your pussy ‘til you’re sore an’ swollen an’ fill you up with our cum?” Barely a beat before his fingers snatched the column of your neck, wrenching your head back against his shoulder. Your back arched with a deep groan, eyes going all misty as they pounded into you. “Tell me,” Eddie commanded, voice deceptively soft and sweet, like he was merely asking you for his morning I love you. “Gotta tell me how much you want it, or I’ll stop.”
“NO!”
Eddie groaned, rolling his eyes. “Fucking parasite doesn’t know how to talk dirty.” Another kiss to your cheek, his little grounding method: his assurance that his love for you can be chaste, too. “Teach him, baby?”
You kissed him back, lips dragging over his rough stubble. “Fill me up, handsome,” you nearly whispered, voice beginning to crack as he skillfully worked your body over. “Wanna feel you come inside me. Please?” A breath where you regained enough sense to question your words. Another and it was gone again. “Want a chubby baby with your eyes…” 
Hands were suddenly everywhere. Two with a painful grip on your tits, kneading the soft fat. One on your hip and one with a handful of your stomach, both maneuvering your hips back as they thrust in, letting their fat cock breach further inside you than anything else ever has or will. On your neck, your clit, and your thighs, all groping and tugging and rubbing fast circles. You’re suddenly ass over head bent over, sheets getting caught in your mouth as they jackhammered into your poor, sopping cunt, thick cock pulsing maddeningly inside you. 
“Precious little one wants to be BRED,” Venom hissed; terribly, awfully pleased as he overpowered Eddie to pound you the way you needed - the way your sweet boyfriend could never, for fear of hurting you. Venom had no such worries: you were a big girl, and if you wanted to get fucked and filled until his cum drips out of your folds, well, who was he to deny such a lovely creature? “Breathe, precious,” he coaxed, making another hand from his slick body to press your face further into the sheets. “Gonna give you everything you want,” 
Moans died in your throat as they manhandled you into a deep arch, thick cock reaching even deeper without having to fight past the bulk of your ass, pussy practically on display for them to play with. God, you loved it. 
Your orgasm hit like a brick wall, crashing over you, making you crumble in their arms. Their grip (all 12 of them) turned soft - tender, loving circles rubbed into your lax muscles, turning you into a pretty pile of twitching jello on the bed. They eased your hips down, letting you lay flat as they worked you through the high, hips pumping into yours at a steady beat. By the time they stilled, groaning low into your hair as they emptied their balls into you, your heart was pumping at that pace. 
You smile when Eddie’s hands grab you, keeping you pressed firmly against his bare chest as he carefully rolled you both to your sides. Kisses pressed to your temple and soft cheeks between murmured praises. Whispers of my sweetheart, y’did so good, so gorgeous, filled the bedroom like a fog, rolling over your body like a warm bath. 
A soft kiss to your neck. “Y’should pee, sweetheart,”
You huffed at him, grabbing his wrist to pull his arm tighter around you. “Five more minutes? I need my cuddle time…”
He pretended to groan, lying through his teeth about how he won’t feel bad when you give yourself another UTI, and he won’t even buy you cranberry juice, even though you know there will be a glass waiting for you with breakfast in the morning.
“YOU LOVE EDDIE MORE THAN ME!”
“JESUS!” You felt the wet slap against your hand before you realized you were swinging, Venom’s weird bobbing head taking the hit and simply returning to an inch in front of your face. 
“WHY?!”
“Inside voice,” Eddie groaned, trying to shoo the symbiote away like a bug.
“I WILL NOT USE MY INSIDE VOICE! PRECIOUS FAVORS YOU!”
A groan built up in your throat as your high quickly faded, but you held it back: it couldn’t do anything good. “Vee,” you chided, “you know better than to talk to me like that.” It was something established almost immediately when he’d entered your relationship. He practically swoons at the memory of you throwing mugs at him while Eddie yelled at him not to let any of them shatter.
No, can’t get distracted!
He grumbles, laying his floating head on the pillow in front of yours. “... you love him more than me.”
It’s a statement. One that makes Eddie’s arms tighten around you, afraid of what the alien might do if he dislikes your response. He knows Venom wouldn’t do anything to harm him, but there may always be the underlying fear that you’ll become fair game one day. Randomly, or for whatever reason, he may wake to the taste of you on his tongue in a way he never wanted. 
But you amazed him, just like you seemed to do every day. You pet the alien’s head just like you would Eddie’s when he was stressed, and you spoke without a hint of fear for the razor-like teeth in your face. “Love can’t be measured, Vee, you know that,” you chided, but your voice held no edge. The same way you would chastise your niece that you loved the bouquet she picked you, but maybe let’s not pick from people’s flowerbeds. “I don’t love him more.”
He bristled like a cat. “You always want him when we fuck you!” 
“Yes,” you agreed gently, “because you hide him away.” You tapped the flat side of his teeth. “And you don’t have the equipment for kissing.” He still grumbled, but was all too eager to tuck into your palm when you offered it. “You have to be more understanding, Vee. You have no idea how long I’ve known Eddie. We were best friends, then he started courting me - took me on dates, brought me flowers - before we even started seriously dating, let alone living and sleeping together.” You stroked his smooth head. “So there’s gonna be a difference in how we interact versus you and me… okay?”
A stretch of silence where Eddie held his breath. If there was anyone who could talk down a brain-eating alien, it was you, but that fear in the back of his mind…
“... I understand.”
You smiled, kissing his head. “Good.”
“I should court you.”
A laugh from you, a joking gripe about having competition from Eddie. “That’d be sweet, Vee.”
A sharp gasp fell from your lips as Eddie’s cock was pulled from you so abruptly, his arms as well as he tumbled to the floor. 
“Wha-”
“Let’s go, Eddie! I won’t come home without a suitable trophy to gift precious!”
“Wait, Vee - fuck - stop! I’m not wearing pants - I’m not wearing anything!”
“Not my problem!”
Eddie cried your name as a last attempt, glaring at your poorly hidden laughter. You took pity on him, clicking your tongue. “Not now, Vee,” you chastised, patting the mattress. “Y’know the rules, I need my cuddles.”
“Oh - yes!” He dragged Eddie right back into bed, snapping Eddie’s arms around you as if he wouldn’t do it himself. “Cuddles,” he mumbled, seeming to seriously ponder the word. “... ah!”
You felt your heart melt - just a little bit - as he curled into the crook of your neck, realizing he’d been pondering how to cuddle with his bobble head form. He nipped the tender flesh under your chin, just barely working it with his teeth without breaking it as he melted into the curves your body provided. Soft purrs started tumbling out of him, Eddie’s arms tightening around you, pulling you into his firm chest. His hands started kneading your hips, his self-soothing method that always emerged after a rough night - work or sex, he needed to touch you. Feel you push back on him, know you were real. 
“Love you,” he muttered, words almost lost in your hair. 
You brought his hand to your lips, kissing across his knuckles. “I love you.” You turned your head, lips brushing Venom. “And I love you.”
“I love the both of you, too,” he purred, “Eddie won’t say it, but he loves me.”
A short laugh, but no denial. You had rules about lies in your bedroom, after all. 
“... You should really go pee.”
“Baby, please shut up.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
762 notes · View notes
decayedgloria · 1 year ago
Text
sundress szn pt. 2
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pt. 2 ft. scaramouche, sandrone, pantalone, and childe
Summer’s finally come, so you decide to wear something that fit the occasion- much to your lover’s excitement.
tags: nsfw under cut, public/semi public sex in almost all of these, I got carried away during pantalone’s, harbingers x afab! Reader (minus signora this time bc I genuinely cannot think of smth for her rn but I can promise in the future that she may be in one of these.), slight ooc maybe? mdni.
word count: ~2.2k, I wrote these half asleep on a nine hour flight these are not going to be proofread
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Scaramouche
This was a good idea. Totally. Sumeru’s just much, much more humid than Snezhnaya, which was something you were willing to get used to. You were absolutely fine. 
How you wished you were right.
Even in the shade of the Grand Bazaar you could still feel the light sheen of sweat begin to form on your skin as you hastily fan yourself, occasionally observing your surroundings for your boyfriend. As a newly-inducted Vahumana student, he was bound to get busy, so it left you with a lot of time on your hands. Too much time. But hey, it got you a new dress so who are you to complain?
It reminded you of when you were both in the Fatui, the Harbinger and his loyal partner, who were too busy to really see each other until he whisked you away to Sumeru. You assumed it would be different this time, but it had dawned on you recently that it would take quite a while to get there (not that it wasn’t deserved, he had a lot to atone for after all.)
But it still disheartened you. You would be lying if you said that it didn’t. You missed his hugs and his presence, no matter how much you annoyed each other you always seemed to find a way to touch each other. And on nights he would be up in the Akademiya studying, leaving you alone in your shared bed, your thoughts wandered to those scarce intimate moments you shared- nights where his chest was pressed against yours, with that stupid smirk on his face as he fucked you silly. Just thinking about those nights made a familiar heat rise in between your legs, making you curse as your cheeks reddened. 
Archons, first the heat, and now this? Scaramouche had better hurry, you felt like you were going to be torched alive at this rate.
Thankfully, you did not need to wait long. Looking into the crowd again, your eyes met with a familiar pair of tired purple ones, much to your delight. You hopped off the bench you sat on and beelined your way to the grouchy purple boy, a smile blossoming on your face as you get closer to him. He doesn’t return the same excitement, content to just catch you in his arms like he always does. You don’t seem to mind, though, as you were too preoccupied with burying your face into his chest.
“Scara…” You whined, pouting your lips. “What took you so long? Do you know how hot it is in here? I almost died.” Expecting a smart retort from him, you were thoroughly surprised at the next words that came out of his mouth.
“What on earth are you wearing?”
There was no malice and spite in his voice, just irritated confusion. Which, in turn, confused you, prompting you to release your position against his chest and stare at him with an eyebrow raised.
“Do you not like it? I got it a while ago.” You hesitantly let go of his embrace, spinning once to let him see the whole dress. It was perfect for a hot day- light and airy, revealing as much skin as possible without spilling everything out. When you turned back to him, his face had gotten redder, but his eyes stayed on you- more specifically, your figure. 
“Aw, what’s got you blushing, Scara?” Your teasing tone was met with a glare, and a pathetic attempt to hide his face by looking away. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“So you don’t like my dress?”
“That’s not the problem.” Suddenly, he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him again, lowering his head so he could murmur into your ear, “I like it too much. Fix it. Now.”
With that, he dragged you to the nearest concealed spot- behind some crates that barely covered the both of you. When you emerged, all that was left of your dress was the tattered skirt that barely hung on to your body as Scaramouche placed his jacket over your top, that same stupid, hot smirk on his face.
Sandrone
Sandrone tried. Really, she did. But she could not help it in the slightest.
The seventh harbinger has a reputation for being a recluse, cooping herself up in her lab toying with her automatons all day. On the rare occasion she did speak to someone, her tone only seemed to indicate annoyance and malice- she didn’t mind since it drove people away. However, things changed the day you were assigned to work under her; suddenly, she didn’t hate the world that much anymore.
Certainly not when you’re dressed like this.
A quick trip to the ruins of Liyue, both as a break and to gather intel, made you a bit… adventurous, with your outfits to say the least. The entire time you had walked around Qiongji Estuary, Sandrone could not help but linger her stare just a little bit longer than usual. Your outfit consisted of a short dress, loosely clinging around your body, but it made you look so alluring in her eyes. A perpetual blush seemed to occupy her face, which you had innocently chalked up to the heat.
As her automatons roam around in search for whatever she had told them to find, Sandrone busied herself under a makeshift tent inspecting what seemed to be an artifact encased in cor lapis, tinkering with the ore as if it were a toy. You were by her side, head on her shoulder, observing your lover with loving eyes. Your subtle touches combined with your warm breathing had already put her on edge, but she continued nonetheless.
However, the last straw came when you stood up a little to grab something on the other side of Sandrone, aptly placing your bosom right in front of her face. So, forgive her for breaking her composure and pulling you back onto the ground, dirtying your dress as she straddles you eagerly while crashing her lips into your own before you could react.
“You’re so fond of distractions…” She said breathlessly, hands all but dying to get your tits out of your dress for her nimble fingers to play with. You moaned in response, a bit taken aback at her suddeness. Looking up at your blushing, desperate girlfriend, you decided to tease her just a little bit.
“I was just trying to help, Sandrone.” Your tone feigned innocence, which only fueled her frustration. She caught your lips with fervor as one hand pinched your nipple, and the other tugged on your hair, all while grinding down on you.
“Shut up and fuck me, please.” 
Pantalone
Pantalone was a man of many talents. One of those talents happens to be spoiling you rotten. Too rotten sometimes. But who were you to complain? The richest man in Teyvat was wrapped around your finger, and you couldn’t help but be a little cheeky and take advantage of that sometimes.
What should’ve been a business trip to Liyue to check the Northland Bank’s activities turned into Pantalone emptying out every boutique in the harbor so you can get a new wardrobe for summer. At one particular store, where there were no other customers besides you and your husband, you had decided to try on some dresses that caught your attention. On one hand, you really did want a few more relaxed additions, but on the other hand, well…
You had emerged from your dressing room not long ago, and yet you were already sat firmly on top of your husband, head in his neck as you try to brace yourself against the waiting room’s couch. Under you, Pantalone only gave you his usual, sly grin as his hands firmly hold you in his lap, keeping you in place as you grind on his ever-growing erection.
“I think this dress looks lovely on you dear.” He whispered, taking in the sight of you writhing on top of him desperately. Chuckling, his hand makes it way all the way to your ass, hiking up the long dress before giving it a smack. You moaned in response, hiding your face in his neck, hands raking over his toned chest.
“You simply look ravishing in it.” He continued his assault on your body, propping you up just a little bit so he had a clear view of your chest, kissing you quickly before delving in between your tits. Archons, he was impatient- he made you impatient. You confess, you did think the dress would get a rise out of him, which was why you picked it first when trying clothes on, but to think he would be this roused by it filled you with a titulating thrill only he was capable of causing.
“Ah- Does the dress make you- ngh… this excited, love?” Despite your teasing words, it was clear that you weren’t the one in control as you rocked your hips to feel even a little bit of relief from the growing ache in between your legs. Pantalone didn’t say anything back, rather he took off his gloves and positioned his fingers over your mouth, commanding you in a husky tone.
“Open up and suck them, darling. I’ll have plenty more for you.”
Childe
“Fuck you mean no?”
“You just aren’t going out like that.” Childe deadpanned, crossing his arms. “It’s a pretty dress for sure though.” The contrasting grin on his freckled face made you want to punch him, though it also illicited some questionable butterflies in your stomach.
Nobody quite knew what you and Childe were. On the surface level, one could assume that you two were just close friends; however, if they took the time to observe how Childe’s touch always lingered for a little too long, or how you stared at him with such bold adoration in your eyes as you smiled at him- it would be quite obvious that there were unspoken feelings for each other somewhere there.
It was quite common for you to visit his office in the Northland Bank like today. You really just wanted to show him the new dress you made for yourself, and figured you could flirt with him a little bit- not that he’d catch the hint. He always did treat you just like a good friend, something that disappointed you a little bit.
Because as it stands, right now, with him towering over you with his arms crossed, a grin on his handsome face- somehow, you’re horny because of this smug bastard. You imagine how good it would be to just smash your lips on his just to shut him up because Archons, is it tempting.
“I’d like to show off what I’ve made for myself,” you huffed at him, pouting. “I’ll go ahead and stroll the streets as I please with or without you then.” You try to turn and leave, expecting him to just laugh and go back to work. However before you could even step towards the door’s direction Childe’s strong hands snaked around your waist, pulling you firmly back.
Without much warning, you fell back into his chest letting out a small yelp. Once you realize the position you were in, you froze- your cheeks heating up an unbearable amount as you try to wriggle away from the (much) stronger man. It only became worse when he placed his lips right on top of your ear, chuckling lowly.
“C’mon… I can’t have all of Liyue see my girl this good.” He remarked lowly, trailing his lips down until they settled on the base of your neck, to which he then placed a gentle kiss. “They might be tempted to steal you away from me, and we can’t have that, can we?.” You’d be lying if you said that didn’t turn you on so fucking much, trying your best to hide it by pulling your legs closer together.
“We aren’t dating though? What do you mean-“ You let out a moan as he started sucking at the same spot, his lips forming a smile as they worked. Your hands flew to his arm on your waist, turning yourself around to meet his gaze. He lifted his head, lips puffy and blue eyes glazed over with lust. 
“Everyone in Liyue knows that we want each other. Why not give in?” He pressed his forehead against yours, lips deliciously close to yours as he placed his hands on your waist. 
“Only if you want to.” Was your sheepish reply, slightly embarassed to be this close to the man you’ve been covering for months. Was it really this easy? Is it just another one of his pranks? You weren’t sure, but at this point you didn’t care much, especially after he launched his lips straight at you in a fervent kiss. His hands lifted you up, haphazardly swiping away everything on his desk and placing you on it while your fingers tangled in his hair.
Both of you fumble with each other’s clothes, but Childe took extra care in taking the sight of your dress halfway off your body, admiring the view. He suddenly brings his hand up to your chest, flicking your nipple. You moan in both surprise and pleasure, burying your face into his bare shoulder.
“Be as loud as you want girlie. I want everyone here to know who’s finally got you.”
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pt 2 is finally out yall i can rest
i wrote these on my way to and from london on the plane and i am sick bro i just wanna sleep (jet lag and chugging redbulls prevent me from catching a break tbh)
hope yall enjoy, this did take a little bit longer to make tho so i apologize for that.
2K notes · View notes
bbybaku · 6 months ago
Text
BOY NEXT DOOR SHIG
i actually really like this one. like might be my fav thing I've ever posted lol. slow burn i fear. ends w smut. as always
follows the American academic calendar sorry its all i know and it'll make sense why at the end
5k ish words (sorry idk how this one got so long)
warnings: uhh slow burn, smut, multiple positions, make out, dirty talk, choking, dom shig, slight voyeurism, slight exhibitionism
you went to college a little over an hour away from where your parents lived.
which meant you only really went home and stayed with them on school breaks. Summer, Thanksgiving, Christmas break.
You didnt think or wish to be back at your parent's house, your whole life was at college. Your friends, your stuff, your job.
That was until your parents got a new neighbor over the summer.
He was tall and kind of lanky. He had long fluffy blueish-white hair that was a little past his shoulders and always slightly in his face.
You saw him and what looked like his dad moving in.
Their new house was the one right next to your bedroom window.
Your parents went next door to introduce themselves. They came back and told you that the boy was only a year older than you and he was also in college.
You asked more questions, what school? What is his name? Does he live at home? is he on social media?
but they said they didnt know. They told you to go over and introduce yourself but you had a better idea.
You knew better then to open your bedroom window. For all you knew the new boys dad could be in the room directly next to yours.
But you did it anyway. You took down the curtains, opened the blinds and opened your window.
It was summer after all.
You never got the opportunity to talk to the boy over the summer.
You saw him in passing.
He was akward. When you saw him in the neighborhood he would give you one of those closed-mouth smiles and lift his hand in a wave. he was so hot in one of those loser-man type of ways.
You also saw him doing yard work. He never took his shirt off but he had more muscle on on than you initially thought.
Luckily, the neighbor boy also took the bedroom across from yours and he seemed to notice your open window.
Sometimes in the evenings he would open his too.
there was a little bit of distance between the houses but you could still occasionally hear the music he was listening to, you could hear him talking while he was gaming, and sometimes you would wait until he was in his bedroom with his window open to change clothes.
you hoped he would notice. maybe even take interest.
but as the summer ended and you packed up for school you knew you had to accept that it was too soon. you knew it needed time.
as the semester progressed you tried to forget the neighbor boy. you went out with you friends, you went to class, and you lived your life but he was always there in the back of your mind.
no matter where you were or what you were doing you couldn’t help but think of him. what he was doing, where he was, his long slender hands, the veins on his forearms. when you would listen to him talk to his friends. if he had a girlfriend.
obsession is a big word but you were swiftly approaching it with how often you thought about him.
when you went home for thanksgiving in mid-november you were actually ecstatic, unlike your usual sadness to have to leave your life behind. not this time, you were going to get to see him.
even if if was in passing or if it was just listing to him play video games through his window.
something was anything.
and anything was something.
just like he did over the summer he opened his window in the evening.
you tried not to stare into his house but it was much more decorated and lived in than it had been over the summer.
he had posters on his walls, better lighting, furniture arranged to be more fung shiu, and dirty clothes on the ground.
what you would do to get a hold of his dirty laundry.
he still played video games at night and listened to music.
you still changed infront off the window.
you two saw each other in passing and he did the same thing he did over the summer.
a closed mouth smile and his hand would lift up as a wave.
but now your parents and his dad were friends so they had more to tell you about him.
you had to play it cool they couldn't know that you were obsessed, no you were asking out of morbid curiosity.
your parents told you his name was tomura shigaraki. his dad adopted him, it was just the two of them, he was a year older than you and he was in computer science.
and no it did not seem like he had a girlfriend.
you had to hide your excitement.
how much did he know about you? was he even interested?
as your excitement began to dwindle and you got ready to leave home and go back to school for the last few weeks of the semester you herd someone call out your name.
you looked up and sure enough getting out of his car was the neighbor boy, tomura.
“hey! you’re (y/n) right?”
you tried to control yourself. you knew your face had to be beet red.
“oh yeah hey”
“well i just wanted to say hello" a pause. he looked around a little awkwardly, then finished his train of thought "im tomura.”
you gave a small smile “it was nice to meet you tomura, i guess ill see you around”
he did his little wave and went inside.
you could feel the butterflies in your stomach.
you couldn’t get his devious little grin out of your head.
he had to be interested. you two were the same age and the same demographic. he was a loser and you were beautiful.
if you weren’t obsessed before, now there was no denying it.
the last three weeks of the semester went by agonizingly slow. even your friends noticed your distracted demeanor.
you chose not to tell them. you didn’t want to ruin the magic. and you didn’t want to sound delusional about the neighbor you’ve been stalking and only spoken to once.
when the semester finally ended you were practically already packed and ready to head home.
you spent the entire drive trying to calm yourself down. knowing you had to play it cool around the neighbor boy. around tomura.
you got home and pulled into the driveway, you noted that his car was in his driveway.
you walked in the front door and were met with not only your parents, but also tomura and his dad.
your eyes instantly met.
you dropped the bag you were carrying.
“oh hey” you said not breaking eye contact.
“uhh what’s up” he said sounding nervous but there was no denying that he was happy to see you.
your parents introduced the two of you. he awkwardly shook your hand. you could feel how clammy they were.
your mom announced that tomura and his father would be coming to their yearly holiday party that they throw every year.
you had to rein in your excitement.
“oh, I'm excited to see you guys there”
they left and you immediately went upstairs to scream into your pillow, with your window closed of course.
the holiday party's theme was to wear holiday-esc clothes, you knew who would be there so of course you wore a little black dress and a santa hat.
you saw tomura walk in but you didn't approach him, not yet.
he was wearing a collared shirt under an oversized dark green sweater with Christmas symbols on it that looked thrifted.
you helped yourself to the access of alcohol that both your parents and their guests provided.
you had left your window closed the last few days in anticipation of seeing him tonight.
you noticed he was drinking a beer. your eyes met from across the room. he was standing next to his dad, talking to a group of neighbors.
you were talking to a different neighbor, an old lady who was telling you to dress more modestly.
you risked a glance. he was checking you out. how little you left to the imagination in your little dress.
he caught your eyes and blushed, looking away instantly. he was back into the conversation as soon as he looked away and you looked back.
you excused your self for more alcohol.
you talked to your mom
felt the warm effects of the alcohol.
made eyecontact with tomura.
talked to some more of the party guests
more prolonged eye contact.
You were laying it on thick with your "fuck me eyes"
after what felt like an eternity of dancing around each other finally, your parents were talking to him and his dad.
you joined the circle, only a little motivated by the alcohol you had been drinking all night.
the alcohol that mad the blood rush between your legs a little more than usual.
your parents were asking him about college. he answered their question but was staring at you.
"- yeah I dont really have plans after graduation I'll probably just go wherever the wind takes me kind of thing"
he didnt take his eyes off you. even after he finished talking. he was a good head taller than you. his hair had gotten longer but it still looked good on him. you noticed the contrast of his light hair against his dark eyebrows. he was well-groomed. clean shaven. you wondered what he would look like first thing in the morning with stubble and no shirt on-
"Y/n?"
"Sorry?"
"they were asking about your plans after college"
"Oh um- Im also not sure yet, Ive been looking into grad school but I'm still on the fence,"
your eyes flicked to tomura, an invitation.
"Now, if you'll excuse me I'm gonna go get some water."
he took the bait, "I think im gonna get some water too"
he followed you to the makeshift bar on the kitchen island.
you poured yourself another drink.
he cracked open another beer
“so what are you drinking?”
he shrugged and took a sip
“doesn’t taste very good”
you simply nodded. you could feel the heat on your cheeks. all these months of thinking about him and now you have absolutely nothing to say.
“so you study-“
“can we quit it with the small talk?”
he stepped closer to you and wrapped his free a hand around your waist, he leaned down so that his mouth was right next to your ear.
he said it just quietly enough that only you could hear, “i don’t want to act like i haven’t been jerking off to you changing in front of your open window and you can’t act like you’re not the little slut who opens her window and gets naked for me.”
you flushed. your blood should be cold from the embarrassment but it wasn't.
it was the opposite.
you felt like you were on fire.
it felt like your excitement was pooling in your underwear.
you realized he was still holding on to you, he hadn't moved.
it was like you and tomura were the last two people on earth. your surroundings a blur,
"wanna get out of here"
"yes. yes please" you whispered.
"thats what i like to hear"
he took your hand and walked you to the back hallway of the party since so many people were blocking the front door and the stairs.
he stopped you in front of one of the doors.
you wanted him so bad that a drunk makeout next to the guest bedroom was enough.
your back was against the wall and one of his hands was leaning against the wall next to your head.
"do you ever think about me when you're away?" he whispers.
you run a hand down his chest. stomach. brush your fingers against something else.
something hard.
"all the fucking time" you whisper back.
he doesn't say anything.
he pins your back to the wall with his body. his hand runs through your hair.
his hand does it again.
youre looking down.
his hand grabs your jaw and forces you to look up him.
he inspects your face, eyes lingering on your lips,
and then he kisses you.
not a little gentle kiss.
your mouth is met by his wet open mouth.
your hands locked around his neck, one of his hands found your waist and the other was in your scalp.
you could feel his hard on.
you rubbed your sex on him and he sucked in a breath while kissing you.
his tongue was exploring your mouth, he wanted in while simultaneously sucking on your bottom lip and biting your tongue.
tomura was warm, he smelled like ocean and spice and laundry detergent. he was all you wanted and more.
he pulled away from the kiss and took a step away from you. he wiped your mouth with his sleeve and then wiped his.
an old man you recognized as one of your moms coworkers wandered back into the hallway.
you quickly understood why tomura just pulled away.
“this isn’t the bathroom” he said looking between the two of you.
you and tomura look at each other and fake a laugh.
his face was flushed, his hair a mess, and your there was a tint the color of your lipstick around his mouth.
"oh yeah we were just talking about college. the bathroom is that way." you pointed to where the party was happening
the man smiled and walked away.
once he was gone you and tomura went right back to what you were doing.
this one wasn’t like the first one though.
it was rougher. it was something more
tomura grabbed your jaw with one hand and squeezed your ass with the other, saying between passionate kisses,
“you have no idea how badly i’ve wanted this”
he pulled on your hair, forcing your head to angle up towards his face.
you can’t ignore his big strong hands, the length of his fingers, the veins on his arms just peeking out from under his rolled up sweater sleeves.
your santa hat must have fallen off a while ago.
his other hand on your ass kneaded it like it was bread dough.
he grabbed at your ass by the handful, pulling on the skin and fat and muscle before letting it go, occasionally feeling your waist, the swell of your hips, and then going right back in for your ass and repeating the process.
his tongue explored the inside of your mouth like it belonged to him. he sucked on your bottom lip, shoved his tongue in, sucked on your mouth with his entire mouth all in no particular order.
you pressed your hips into him and liked what you found.
with one arm wrapped around his neck, you other massaging his scalp and occasionally pulling his hair, a signal to him to come closer to you.
you moved back and into him again. grinding against him. he was hot and hard.
you removed your hand from his scalp and palmed his member.
he pulled off your mouth but not your body and let out a shaky breath.
“if we start with that i won’t be able to stop” he whispered into your hair.
“who said that’s a bad thing” you whipered back.
you could feel his smile against you even though you couldn’t see his face, “i never said it was bad but maybe we should find somewhere more private”
“can we sneak out to your place?”
this was when he pulled his body off of yours and you could see his smirk, “i think that’s a great idea.”
the two of you tried to tidy each other up as best as you could but there was no denying the fact the the two of you just did something. both of your cheeks were flushed, hair was ruffled, and clothes disheveled.
there was also no denying his excitement. you pulled his sweater down to help him attempt the hide the tent in his pants.
he mumbled out a "thanks" and looked away blushing.
he walked out into the party first, raising his eyebrows at you as he said to meet him outside in ten minutes.
you counted to 100 before entering the party so as not to look suspicious.
you didn’t want your parents old and nosy friends know yours and tomura’s business.
you found your parents and stood in on their conversation. casually looking around every chance you got to find him. you spotted him in the kitchen standing next to his dad talking to a woman.
he was standing with his hands in his pockets, slouching, his cheeks still pink, his lips a little swollen, and his his looked like someone had just ran their hands through it.
you noticed you were staring. then you noticed he was staring at you too. he gave you a small smile and he pointed his head toward the front door.
you gave him a small nod in agreement.
you whispered to your mom that you were going to go sit outside and to not worry about you.
she had a few drinks in her system and was more concerned about her holiday party than whatever nonsense her daughter was up to, so it was easy to slip away.
you instantly started walking towards the front door when you felt a hand grab yours. you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
the next five minutes were a blur.
your hand in his.
running over to his house.
his frantic effort to unlock the front door.
instantly making out against the front door once inside.
running up the stairs with him right behind you.
hands intertwined.
barely making it to his room before, once again, aggressively making out against his closed bedroom door.
tomura peeled your desss off in one fluid motion and picked you up throwing, you on his bed.
he whipped his sweater off, and climbed on top of you.
you began to undo the buttons on his white button down but he stopped you,
"ah ah, not yet. its my turn"
he pulled one of your breasts out of your bra, nipple already hard, and put his mouth around your nipple.
his right hand finds yours, interlocking fingers and pressing you to the bed.
his left hand finds your other breast and kneads on it. pulling on your nipple, grabbing the flesh with his palm and fingers.
all while milking your other.
his mouth sucking and teeth bruising there was nothing you could do to conceal the unholy wimpers he coaxed out of you.
his eyes find yours.
“look at me” he says then resumes what he was doing.
your mind couldn't form coherent thoughts.
the only thing you could focus on was the pleasure you were experiencing at his hands.
and mouth.
your hips find his.
you could feel his rock-hard member in his pants.
your free hand finds his member between the two of you and you rub your hand up and down him over his pants.
he inhales shakily.
"mmm not yet" he whispered into your breast.
he maneuvers to switch sides, his mouth now on the opposite breast and his hand cupping the breast his mouth was just on.
your back arches and you moan as his mouth makes contact.
you couldn't stop yourself from grinding your hips against his again.
he bit your nipple in response, getting a yelp out of you.
you knew for sure by now that you were soaked through your panties.
since Tomura had taken your dress off your arousal was evident but his attention was still on your breasts.
he was holding one of your hands and the other was in his hair, nails scratching circles on his scalp and occasionally pulling on his hair.
your hips still moving against his you gave a tug on his hair for his attention.
he kept his mouth where it was but stopped what he was doing, lazily looking up.
you pet his hair and whispered "can we please?" pushing your hips into his for emphasis.
he raised his eyebrows slowly.
he removed his mouth from your nipple dramatically with a loud sucking noise.
he sat up and switched the position he was in to now hold down both of your wrists with one of his hands and to hold your hips down with the other,
"I said not yet,"
and he turned his attention to the nipple he had previously been working on.
you thought you couldn't have been more aroused but with his new found control over you? you could have come just from the sight of him.
your hips struggled against his arm, seeking any form of release as you whimpered in pleasure from the love he gave to your nipple.
you came out of your trance and realized he was still fully clothed and you were still wearing your bra and underwear.
he removed himself from you slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and pushing his mane of hair out of his face.
you were breathing heavily and slightly disoriented from what he had just done.
"lets get rid of these, shall we?"
he started to pull off your underwear. and you went ahead and removed your bra.
"it cant be fair that im the only one who's naked?"
you motioned to him still being almost fully dressed save for the sweater he had been wearing over his now half unbuttoned button-down shirt.
shigaraki sighed and began unbuttoning his shirt
"I thought you preferred to be naked?" he looked up at you and smirked "or are you just a show off?"
you didnt really have a good response to his call out so all you could do was stare at him.
you watched him undress making sure to emphasize one of your signature looks, the fuck me eyes.
he definitely noticed your gaze.
he smirked back at you as he stood up and shucked off his pants.
Leaving him in nothing but a pair of blue plaid boxers.
your favorite.
he crawled back onto the bed and sat on his knees in between your legs, where you lay on your back. head propped up with pillows and still panting from what his magic mouth and fingers just did with your nipples.
he locked eyes with you, hooked his hands underneath your knees, and pulled your bottom half up to him.
he pushed your legs up, essentially folding you in half as he brought his mouth down to yours.
He kissed you sweetly and deeply. with care but also disrespect like he would stop if you asked you him to but you were pulling him closer, scratching his back, and grinding against his member.
so he squeezed your thigh, groped your boob a little tighter, and explored the cavern of your mouth a bit deeper with his tongue.
his hand previously on your tit found your throat. he choked you as his mouth pulled from yours.
the pressure of his hand caused your mouth to open, searching for air and only getting a little bit of it.
he squeezed tighter as he licked down the column of your neck and back up.
kissing your mouth lightly one last time as he released your throat and started kissing down your body.
kissing down to your soaking wet sex.
his hand stroked your face at first. he kissed your jaw, your neck, your chest, booth boobs, your navel, then he found the space between your legs. he lifted your legs over his shoulders and started kissing you there too.
he kissed your clit similarly to how he kissed your mouth at first. softly. respectfully. passionately. like he was waiting for permission.
you gave it to him by grabbing a handful of hair and rubbing yourself against his face. you could feel his nose and his smirk on your sweet spot.
he took your invitation, and you could hear him inhale through his nose he grabbed two handfuls of your ass and went to work.
with his mouth on your clit you could feel him sucking on it, lapping his tongue against it, and eventually sticking two fingers into your sopping entrance.
you couldn't hold your moans in. especially once his veiny, long-fingered hand was pumping in and out.
your first orgasm didnt even build it just ripped through you, without anything you could have done to stop it.
shigaraki, satisfied enough with his handy work sat up and whipped your wet from his mouth with the back of his hand.
you could have orgasmed again from the sight of his flushed cheeks and messy hair in the ambient lighting of his bedroom.
"your so fucking hot" you couldn't stop yourself from saying.
his hazy eyes found yours "You should see yourself right now" he gave you that smirk after he said it.
there was no hiding his arousal. he pulled his boxers down and his member sprang free.
he was hung.
8 inches long and thick.
all you could do was stare your mouth slightly open and your blood pumping between your legs.
"you like what you see i take it," he says that fucking smirk on his face.
all you could do was nod your head.
he spits on the tip and starts pumping himself as he moves forward toward you.
he hooks his arm under your right leg and maneuvers himself between your legs.
"you ready?"
you hum in response
"mmm i need a yes"
"yes, I am ready"
"good girl, thats what i like to hear,"
he inserts himself slowly, you feel the familiar sting of being stretched out
tomura pauses, looking at you as if asking permission to continue.
your hand is covering your mouth but you nod for him to continue.
he does.
you look down to see that he is not even halfway in.
"oh my god" you whisper "its so fucking big"
he just smiles, not losing his focus on what he is doing.
once hes almost all the way in he pauses again, looking at you for permission to continue.
"can you start moving slowly?"
he doesn't acknowledge your words other than thrusting in and out as slowly as he can,
with each thrust in you couldnt with hold your whimpers.
tomura was slowly increasing speed and how deep he was going,
"is this okay" he asked his breath slightly shaking
"oh my god yea" you struggle to get out
he pushes the leg hooked. under his arm up higher and finally bottoms out in you,
you both moan.
"fuck, youre so tight,"
"you youre so big"
his hand hound your face and stroked your cheek before he took your jaw in his hand,
"youre so fucking beautiful"
you could feel your heart flutter in your chest as he pounded in and out of you and an unholy speed.
"lets switch positions"
you hum in response, so fucked out that you couldn't form coherent words.
he grabs a pillow and flips you over, shoving the pillow underneath your hips.
he taps the small of your back, you spread your knees and arch your back for him, grabbing one of the other pillows to hold in your arms.
tomura grabs hold of your hips and inserts himself, going in smoother this time.
just because the entry was easier did not mean the new angle was any mind boggling.
and tomura was not holding himself back in the slightest, he moaned once he was all the way in and wasted no time in absolutely fucking the shit out of you.
you didnt know it was possible for a human being to experience pleasure like this. your second orgasm of the night rips through you with an inhuman moan.
tomura gathers up your hair and pulls you toward him,
"came again so soon? thats my girl"
he wraps one hand around your throat the other finds your shoulder to use as leverage as he continues to fuck you from behind.
his thrusts begin to stutter losing speed and consistency,
"im close i wanna see your face"
"okay" you say through breaths
he once again flips you over, pumping himself as you readjust the pillows under your head and hips,
tomura heaves your legs up and enters you one last time.
your hands find the back of his head and you pull his face up to yours as he resumes his no longer consistent pace.
his hand finds your throat and your other hand finds his bicep, squeezing at the cords of muscle,
you look up at him slowly, from the sight of his cock entering in and out of you, his muscular upper body, to his big red eyes staring down at you. watching you watch him.
one last orgasm rips through you, starting in your stomach and then spreading to your core and to the rest of your body.
tomura finishes at the same time as you, pulling out and coming all over your stomach and boobs.
the two of you just sit there for a moment. both of you breathing heavy. both of you fucked out of your minds.
tomura is the first to break the silence.
he swallows and rubs his jaw,
"do you think we should go back to the party because I kind of want to do that again?"
m.list
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night-daily · 4 months ago
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Third time's a charm | Peter Maximoff x fem! reader
summary: Two times where Peter tries to kiss you and one time when it finally happens.
warnings: not proof read, im sorry:(
a/n: i think i need a peter in my life
The first time, you and Peter were in the living room of Xavier's school, watching a movie. It was your regular movie night, you would sit together on the couch and eat popcorn and candy's that Peter stole it grabbed for you, “I…I wasn’t sure if you’d like this, so I just took all the flavours they had there” that was he said to you when it was your first movie night, he was pretty nervous because you asked him, of all the people in the mansion, you wanted to spend your free time with him. So that night he arrived with two bags full of candy's and since then it became a tradition.
The movie was playing on the tv in front of you but your focus wasn't in the movie, was on the guy sitting next to you. It wasn't a secret for anyone in the mansion that you were in love with Peter, except for him, of course. Sometimes it was hard for your friends to watch how hard you tried to flirt with him but he was so oblivious to your moves.
At night the mansion was cooler and you're already regretting you didn't bring your sweater with you cause now you're shaking like a chihuahua and you're pretty sure Peter had noticed.
Suddenly you felt a rush of air around you, did someone leave a window open?
But when you're about to stand up and check the windows, you've a blanket on you and Peter is looking at you with a frown on his face. “Next time tell me when you're cold 'cause I'm not the professor to read your mind” You feel your cheeks hot, embarrassed, “I just don't want you to get sick...” He mumbles, avoiding your eyes and missing the way your heart is beating faster at his words.
And feeling bold, you put your legs on top of his, this was very normal between you so he didn't flinch, but he did it when he felt your head on his shoulder, it felt... intimate. Your hair was brushing his neck and he wanted so bad to run his fingers through it.
But he was a little uncomfortable in this position, his arms were glued to his body, feeling the half of your body on one of his arms, it wasn't heavy but it wasn't comfortable either. So the only solution he came with, was to put his arm around you, resting it on your waist, sending chills on your spine.
Now it was comfortable, it was perfect. The way your bodies fitted so well made him think, why the hell we didn't this before?
“Peter” The way his name comes out of your mouth, it makes him go crazy, it's a feeling he'll never get tired of. Only if you knew you've him wrapped around your finger, you'll be together by now.
“Hmm?” He can't find his voice due your presence. You lifted your head a little to match his eyes. You're very close, so close that if he leans down his head like he's doing right now and if you stretch your neck like your doing now your lips would finally connect, he's getting closer and you can't wait any longer, you can feel it in the air, he want's this too, he wants you and—
“What are we watching?” Scott fucking Summers jumps from behind the couch sitting between you and Peter.
You sighs defeated, this was your karma for laughing at the kid who tripped in the fountain at the mall earlier?
“We're gonna watch the tape of your death” Scott frowned confused, “I've never heard of that movie before” The bowl of popcorn was stole it from your hands and he was ignoring Peter's angry glare.
“You're about to presence it” Scott dropped the bowl and ran off the stairs, running away from Peter who was chasing him without using his powers, the two of them running like childs, so yeah, this was your karma after all.
The second time
You're in Peter's room waiting for him, reading one of the comics he had lent you when you heard the door opens, finally, you thought.
“Hey you waited too much for me?” And there he was, his sweet smile that always seemed reserved just for you. Sweating was covering his face and a few scratches here and there. He was in a short mission and by the look in his face it wasn't that easy but nothing he couldn't handle. Peter had told you before “if i don't get some bruises, i'm a real hero?” of course you prefer it when he didn't hurted himself but you've had already that discussion with him about what makes you a hero and what doesn't but neither of you backed down so it was a tie, for now.
“I would wait for you all my life” It was cheesy but it was also true.
Making him blush wasn't easy but when it happens oh, you enjoyed the view. Before you can make fun of him, he speaks, “I'm gonna take a quick shower and then we can go to play games so get ready 'cause i'm gonna kick your ass” He stepped into the bathroom while you're standing outside so he can hear you.
You chuckled “Just like the last time when we played Ms pac-man and i broke your record? That's how you kick asses? No wonder why you suck at self defense”
“HEY” Even if you didn't seen him you're sure he was smiling just like you.
You waited a few minutes and he's done. He walks out of the bathroom with his new clothes on, the towel around his neck and a very wet hair.
“Why you never dry your hair?” And before he had the chance to respond, you took the towel around his neck, your arms stretching to his hair since he was a few centimeters taller than you.
Your moves were gently, soft and relaxing, no one has take care of him like you do. All of you were close to him, your body, your face, your lips.
“Stop moving Peter” If it wasn't for your warning, he wouldn't notice he has leaned into your arms thanks to the comfort you offer him, that's the effect you have on him and you don't seem to realize it.
He was staring at you, intensely, like memorizing every part of your face and you could feel it, his gaze was like fire and you could feel the burn on your cheeks. “So uhmm... can i wear one of your jackets? I could wear one of mines but yours are cozier” His eyes widened. His thoughts immediately picturing you with his jacket, and his heart jumps excitedly, a shy smile crossing his face.
But imagining you with his clothes, how they would look bigger in you, how his clothes would smell like you and how everybody would know you are his, fuck, fuck, fuck, why his pants suddenly feel tighter?
“Pete? Are you okay?” Your voice brings him back, realizing you're still holding the towel around his head, fuck fuck fuck, you're gonna find out about... his situation.
Thinking fast he took the towel from your hands and throw it at your face, not giving you a chance to ask him what's going on, he ran out of the mansion like his life depends on it.
“Isn't enough that she owns my heart but now she owns my.. head too?”
And when it finally happens
The next day after Peter throw you the towel, which wasn't very nice of him but it wasn't new coming from him, you had the strange feeling he was ignoring you.
Every time you walked at the same room as him, he would say some lame excuse and would be off before you can even blink. Also, he wasn't answering your calls or texts.
So you made your mission to trap Peter and asked him why the hell he was ignoring you.
“Oh no Scott, you ruined Peter's comic” Faking Jean voice wasn't so hard. Peter didn't come to the kitchen as you expected, so you tried one more time, “Oh my god, it was a limited edition—”
“You better run for your—” As soon as you heard his voice, you closed the door, using your body as a wall so he would need to face you to walk off.
“Gotcha”
Both of you knew he could easily ran and you wouldn't notice, but you got the feeling he wouldn't do it, again.
Peter's face was pale and surprised for falling so easily at your trap.
“Care to explain why you've been ignoring me?” He stayed silent and still, thinking in a way to get out.
“Did i say or did something to bother you?” Peter wasn't listening you, you sighed, “If you don't want me in your life anymore, at least have to guts to say it to my face” Your voice cracked, even when you tried to act though.
At the mention of you not being in his life, he finally looked at you, your fragile figure breaking his heart, he couldn't bare the thought of a life without you, what if you don't feel the same?
but what if she does?
“Goodbye, Peter” His head snapped. It was or never.
“I like you! That's why I've been acting weird, cause i don't wanna lose you” Your eyes widened, what did he say? “I know you might not feel the same but i can't hide it anymore” Shit, did he say he likes you? “B-But I understand if you don't want be friends after this and—”
Now you surprised him with how quickly you were standing in front of him. Grabbing him by his jacket, you pulled him close to you. “I can't believe you don't know i like your stupid, oblivious ass” You tiptoe to finally feel his lips against yours, “Are we about to kiss right now?” You groaned but a smile made his way on your face, “You're not serious” And before he can say something to ruin the moment, you cut him off with a kiss. A kiss full of sincere love, full of hope for a future where you are together and hopefully, he can feel how much you like him.
Unfortunately, none of you have some kind of breath power, so you have to break the kiss.
“So does this mean you feel the same or...?” “Oh my god”
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thebirdsandthebats · 1 year ago
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Tim’s family thinks he can cook really well.
He didn’t mean for this to go so far. It had been a misunderstanding by a well-meaning Dick the last time he was in Gotham and stopped by the boat to visit. Tim had reheated some leftovers in his fridge from the night before, and Dick’s eyes lit up the moment Tim set the plates down.
“Wow, that looks amazing,” he’d commented. Tim, exhausted from a long patrol and preoccupied with dread of having to wake up early, had merely agreed. Of course Bernard’s cooking looked amazing. He was almost as big on presentation as he was on flavor.
“Yeah. Tastes even better.”
What he didn’t realize was that Dick had assumed he made the food. Which wouldn’t have been a problem if not for the fact that Dick loved to brag on his siblings. The next week, Stephanie stopped by unannounced to visit.
“I can’t believe how much you like it here. In a good way, obviously,” she’d grinned while Tim heated up some of the french onion soup that his boyfriend had made him. Tim laughed as he used a terry cloth to handle the hot bowl, placing it down in front of Steph.
He sat next to her with his own bowl. The random visits were odd. But on the bright side, the need to be a good host was kind of forcing him to eat on a more normal schedule. Two birds, one stone he guessed.
“Yeah. I like the marina a lot,” he blew lightly on his spoonful, the soup still steaming hot. “The atmosphere is so different from anywhere I’ve lived. I think being around the marina folk has been good for me—”
“Ohmygod.”
Tim looked over, startled by the outburst. Steph was staring at her soup with wide eyes. Her hand covered her mouth. Tim’s brows drew close together in confusion. “Are you okay? Did you burn your tongue?”
Steph grabbed his shoulder in a firm grip. “You’ve been holding out on us!” She accused.
“Wh—”
“You’ve been sticking to easy foods when you cook at the manor, but here you have the good stuff!” Tim frowned at her words. The realization was beginning to sink in. Did she think he made the soup? He knew how to cook, but he was nowhere near his boyfriend’s level. Bernard was literally in school to be a chef. He liked to practice his assignments at Tim’s boat, suffering through using his poor excuse for a kitchen all so he could leave Tim with the food when it was finished.
Tim opened his mouth to break the news to Steph, but their phones rang out with the high pitched drone that meant someone needed backup. Stephanie sighed. She lifted the bowl and downed all she could in a few swallows before leaping to her feet. “Job never ends, huh?” She offered Tim a hand up, and he took it without hesitation.
“Nope. Let’s suit up.”
After that night, Tim forgot to correct her. He was busy, and his family getting the wrong idea about his cooking abilities just didn’t make the top of his priority list. Bernard kept cooking when he spent nights over, and family kept dropping by on other nights, somehow never crossing paths. Tim’s neighbors seemed perplexed on how he’d gone from only ever letting his boyfriend in to having company every other night. And Tim just…couldn’t find the right moment to set the record straight.
Everything came to a head in the summer, not too long after Tim’s birthday. He was sprawled out on his couch, head resting in Bernard’s lap as the blonde’s fingers scratched lightly at his scalp. It was the lazy kind of day they didn’t often get to spend together, and Tim was feeling warm and drowsy. That was, until his phone dinged with several text notifications, and he dug it out with a grumble to see who needed him.
stop spamming the gc
Dick: it’s august .. here we go
Steph: birthday month babey!!
Duke: my wallet…
Cass: Dami, Jason, Steph, and Duke all get the bday cake in their contact names :)
Steph: Tim I know you’re lurking. for the birthday month we all want you to bring GOOD FOOD TO THE FUNCTION PLS AND TY
Damian: do not forget my dietary restrictions if you do so.
Steph: you text like you’re 84
Tim groaned and let his phone clatter to the floor. Bernard’s fingers paused in his hair. “Bad news?” He asked, concern painting his voice.
Tim shook his head and scrubbed at his face with his hands. “Not really. It’s just—um. You know how you always leave food here for me?” He tilted his head back to look Bernard in the face, and his breath caught for a moment when he saw that his boyfriend was already looking down at him.
He snickered at Tim’s expression. “Yeah? Do you need more?” He asked. Tim was baffled by the question. His fridge hadn’t been empty in ages, and even with his frequent guests, Bernard made such large portions that it took him days to finish a dish. He had more than enough.
“No, it isn’t that. My family…” he hesitated, wondering how dumb this was going to sound. But Bernard was waiting, watching him expectantly, and these days he’d started filling in the gaps himself whenever Tim’s words trailed off thoughtfully. If he didn’t finish speaking quickly, Bernard would have an entirely new problem invented.
“…um, they think I can cook.”
Bernard burst out laughing.
Tim’s face burned pink. “Wh—hey,” he complained at the reaction. “I know how to cook, why are you laughing?”
Bernard wiped the corner of his eye, giggling like a maniac. “Sorry, sorry! You said that like you were coming out to me, and also I’ve seen you sauté,” he managed, and Tim rolled his eyes at the memory. He had sautéed just fine…mostly.
When Bernard was finished laughing at him and had caught his breath again, Tim explained his situation and showed him the texts. He raised an eyebrow. “Jeez. Four August birthdays? And they expect you to cook for all of them?”
Tim sighed. “Yeah. I could just tell them they’ve got the wrong guy, but now it’s birthday month and we’ve gotta plan quick.” It was actually a very rare occurrence that they got together for every birthday in August. Their schedules were so unpredictable. But all 4 was the goal.
Bernard chewed his lip in consideration. “Okay. What if…you give me a list of each of their favorite foods and any restrictions, and I’ll make the food.” He proposed. Tim sat up, turning to face the blonde fully now.
That was way too much work for somebody already cooking for assignments. Plus, Tim didn’t want to pretend he was the one cooking anymore. He said as much to Bernard, who refused to look fazed.
“First off, I can cook 4 meals in my free time. Easy. And second off, I guess you’ll just have to bring me with you to clear up any misunderstandings,” he grinned.
Tim perked up instantly. That was…a perfect solution, actually. Everything would be cleared up, he wouldn’t have to show up without what was expected of him, and the best part, he’d get to bring Bernard with him. He’d been itching to start working his boyfriend into more of his family’s meetups because it was looking like their relationship was pretty serious. He wanted to be able to bring him to their holidays, parties, and dinners. This was a perfect opportunity to start.
He leaned in and kissed Bernard’s cheek. It would never cease to amuse him how a real kiss on the lips was nothing to his boyfriend, but Tim kissing his face always had him turning red.
“Oh.” Bernard touched his face. “You have a crush on me or something?” He teased weakly, and Tim laughed as he settled back down on the couch, his head resting in Bernard’s lap as his fingers found his hair again.
A week later, Tim showed up to the manor with Bernard following close behind, a pan of vegan chili noodles in his arms. Dick opened the door. He beamed once he saw Tim.
“Hey! C’mon, everyone is already inside, so if you brought the food you can…” he trailed off as he finally spotted Bernard behind Tim, who was fighting to keep a straight face. He blinked. “Oh, is this…?”
Bernard carefully balanced the dish in one hand and stretched out the other in greeting. “I’m the chef.” He said with barely contained glee.
The realization seemed to hit Dick all once. His mouth parted in surprise. He glanced back and forth between Tim and Bernard. Finally, he shook his head in disbelief. “You know, this actually makes…so much more sense. Sorry, Tim.”
“Wh—excuse me, what’s that supposed to mean?”
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