how i think each one would hold your hand in bed
(not my art!!)

@theartofmadeline
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@agathasfamiliar
how i think each one would hold your hand in bed
(not my art!!)
also idk if you only take smut reqs so im kinda shy to send fluff reqs here :')
-đŚââŹ
hello! i did get your other req and yes you are welcome to be crow anon (your other req will be added to the list :) it might be a bit though im very behind on writing because of life things, sorry y'all)
don't be shy i am definitely open to fluff requests, feel free to send them and i will try my best. thank you for asking!
i will also say just for anyone else wondering, i am open to agathario (just them and/or x reader ) and rio x reader as well if anybody wants to send those reqs.
Apollonia Saintclair
no matter what your most embarrassing moment in life is, at least itâs not having fucking chat gpt write fanfic for you bc youâre too lazy to do it yourself
happy valentine's day to all dykes, i have 2 requests sitting in my inbox and they WILL be fulfilled i promise i am working on them i just am pretty busy at the moment forgive me
as a femme i firmly believe i should not have to have a real job i think i should get to just fuck around full time and paint pictures of lesbians and watch shitty movies and go grocery shopping and bake cookies for a butch boyfriend to come home to. but Whatever i guess.
Do I wanna know? (Part 2)
Reeling from seeing the text on Agatha's phone, it sends you into a spiral
Word count: 5.1k
Warnings: rough sex, oral sex, fingering, angst, underage drinking, marking
It feels like the floor is falling out from under you and youâre just slowly falling into the realization that Agatha must be cheating on you.Â
The laptop slam that you didnât even question. Lying about work. This text. What else is she hiding?Â
âHey, hon, everything alright?â Agatha asks, coming back into the living room but you barely hear her over the blood rushing in your ears. Is anything alright? You just told her that you loved her while she was fucking you, and now sheâs meeting with someone else tomorrow night. Nothing will ever be alright again.
You turn around slowly and her brows crinkle in concern. Sheâs holding a vibrator â clearly sheâs not done with you yet. But the thought of her touching you with hands that couldâve been on someone else, that will be on someone else, makes your stomach hurt. Are you going to throw up? âYeah,â you say in a monotone.Â
âYou look like youâve seen a ghost,â she jokes. The red marks on her neck from you look eerily out of place now and you regard them curiously. You should talk to her, you should confront her, but youâve always been much more self-destructive than that.Â
And now thereâs a cynical knife twisting inside you, whispering that if you leave even more marks all over her body, she wonât be able to fuck someone else without thinking about you.Â
So you swallow hard and look at her with a steel glint in your eyes. âYeah, I just think itâs your turn,â you say, still a little robotic, and you cover up your anger with a smirk and take her hand to lead her to the bedroom.Â
What once was your sacred place, the place where you felt most like you belonged, now is tainted and you canât help but wonder if she brought someone here. Is it no longer fun with you now that it doesnât have to be a secret? Did she only like you for the thrill of sneaking around?
âTake off your clothes,â you order and if Agathaâs surprised, she doesnât say anything. You hate the feelings of arousal that spike back in you when she puts the toy on the dresser and takes off her sweater and pants, leaving her in a black bra and underwear. âGet on the bed.âÂ
Youâve taken control a few times, but more often than not when you are on top, sheâs guiding you. But not this time. Thereâs some sick part of you that wants to ruin her so she canât think of anyone else but you.Â
Agatha crawls to the middle of the bed and reclines against the pillows, legs falling open to show you the large wet spot on the middle of her panties. âGoing to make mommy feel good?â she simpers and it makes you so fucking mad that you almost walk out.Â
This is a bad idea. You need to talk to her.Â
But the fear of her cheating being confirmed is stopping you, and you loathe yourself for it. It feels like youâre just letting it happen now, but a part of you is worried that if she is sleeping with someone else, then sheâll choose them over you.Â
Is the hurt youâd feel from being without her worse than the pain youâd feel from having only half of her?
You donât fucking know.Â
Agatha is waiting and clucks her tongue to get your focus back on her and you growl before climbing over to her and sinking your teeth into her shoulder. She hisses with pain, but moans when you soothe the bite with your tongue. Her hand fastens into your hair while you litter her upper chest with more marks, absolutely determined that if she does fuck around, there will be questions.Â
âBaby, god,â she sighs, her skin sticky with saliva, and you push down her bra over her breasts so you can suck at them. You scrape your teeth against the curvature of them and then nip, delighting in the bruises.Â
When you take her nipple into your mouth and begin swirling it around with your tongue, her back arches off the bed with a groan. You tug on it, maybe a little rougher than you need to be, and she tightens her grip in your hair.Â
âYouâre fucking mine,â you rasp, trailing down to her stomach and sucking a kiss into the right side of her lower abdomen. She squirms under you, hips undulating, as you make your way back up to her breast, sinking your teeth into her skin and then licking to make the sting feel better, back down to her belly button, back up to her left breast, and then down to the left side of her abs.Â
She looks down and takes a sharp breath when she sees the âMâ written out in red marks all across the smooth expanse of her stomach. Itâs a little sloppy, and you know itâll be faded tomorrow, but anyone who sees it will know what it says.Â
âMine,â you repeat forcefully, prompting her to say it back, and she nods with wide eyes. Youâve never seen her like this â so at your mercy, and you donât hate it.Â
Agatha clearly doesnât hate it either, because when you go lower and settle between her legs, you can smell her. âPlease, honey,â she says, hand tugging at your hair, but you run your tongue all the way up her inner thigh starting from her knee, and then repeat on the other leg. She shivers, goosebumps following in your wake, and you bite the skin on her upper thigh, right before the juncture between them.Â
Sheâs so wet that you can see a difference in the dark fabric and sheâs making the most delicious sounds to plead with you to touch her.Â
But youâre not done teasing her yet. Youâre getting a thrill from her being needy for you and you being the only one right now who can take care of it for her. You toy with the hem of her underwear and she lifts her ass off the bed so you can slide it over and down her legs.Â
âGod, youâre wet,â you say, lifting her panties up so you can see them glistening in the light. For a moment, you think about gagging her with them so you donât have to hear her lie to you but you donât know how Agatha would react. And the last thing you need is for her to get suspicious about why youâre suddenly in a dominating mood.Â
She nods before gasping, âAll for you,â and you have to duck your head so she doesnât see your face contort with emotion. You bend back down and sink your teeth into her hip bone and then both her upper thighs again for good measure, before flattening your tongue and dragging it roughly through her folds.Â
Her hips buck and she tries to shove you in closer, but you take your time, just teasing around her clit and mouthing at her cunt lips. Your face is getting absolutely drenched, but you barely even feel it with the anger vibrating through your body. Your hands keep her legs pried apart and youâre digging your nails into her skin.Â
You donât even realize that youâve thrusted your tongue inside her and curled it up until her walls clench around you and then you harshly suck at her clit, making her moan. Youâve never been this ferocious before, itâs like youâre practically devouring her and she is absolutely loving it. It makes you want to stop because she doesnât deserve it â she doesnât deserve your mouth on her making her feel good.Â
But you canât stop and itâs fucking killing you. Youâre deriving too much pleasure from the way sheâs thrashing around on the bed, hips grinding furiously, head thrown back and hair strewn around the pillows. From the way sheâs moaning your name like itâs the only thing she can think of.Â
She needs you, only you, and for a moment, thatâs enough.Â
Agathaâs getting closer and you can feel her clit pulsing under your tongue and her walls clenching. Sheâs groaning something unintelligible and you can feel the ache back between your legs.Â
âPlease, please, honey,â she moans, the rhythm of her hips growing sloppy, and you stop and pull away, making her whine. She picks her head up and looks at you, completely out of breath, a dark heat in her eyes. âWhat are youââÂ
Before she finishes the sentence, you cut her off with a long lick through her folds and she whimpers. âWho do you belong to?â you ask, fire seething in your voice. You tease her clit with the tip of your tongue and she rolls her hips to try to get more direct stimulation.Â
âYou, baby, you,â she chokes out and you feel a rush of possessiveness. One of your hands leaves her thighs and out of the corner of your eye, you can see the faint red indentations left behind. A sick thrill runs through you â you hope they hurt.Â
âKeep saying it,â you demand and thereâs a flicker of confusion on her face, but before she can ask or say anything, you shove two fingers into her cunt roughly. She keens and drops back onto the bed, walls convulsing around you and you slowly rub your tongue against her clit, a stark contrast from your fast thrusts inside her.Â
You pause for a moment before she remembers what she needs to do. âIâm yours, honey, I belong you to, Iâm all fucking yours,â she pants and you suck on her clit before scraping your teeth against it, harshly twisting and then curling your fingers, and she cums all over your face and hand, making you an absolute mess.Â
You donât stop though â you just keep going, you just keep fucking her as hard as you can, until sheâs shaking and trembling and writhing beneath you and begging you. You think she might have cum again but you donât let up, completely losing yourself in just pushing her and pushing her to more until itâs too much and she yanks on your hair, pulling you away from her.Â
âGive me a second, hon,â she jokes weakly and you realize the state that both of you are in. Thereâs little droplets of blood on her skin from where your one hand has been digging into her thigh and your other hand and bottom half of your face are soaked and sticky. Her chest is heaving, breasts rising and falling and demanding your attention, and her skin is blotchy and red. The âMâ is still etched out in marks and it makes a dull heat start to throb in your stomach.Â
Agatha is completely ragged when she tugs you up to lay next to her and she laughs like she canât believe what just happened. Thereâs a slight worry that starts to gnaw at you that maybe you went too far. Even if she is cheating, you canât totally block out the feelings you have for her. âYou okay?â you ask, voice small and timid.Â
She brushes a lock of hair that was stuck to her sweaty forehead out of the way and turns to look at you. âThat was so intense, baby. So hot. Iâm really good.âÂ
And then she leans over and kisses you so softly that it makes you want to cry. Is she just that good of a liar?
Or are you just that much of a fool?Â
When she gets out of bed, you donât move and just lay there feeling absolutely nothing. The reality of what might be happening is starting to sink in more and youâre getting the overwhelming urgency to run.Â
Agatha comes back into the room with a wet washcloth and wipes your face gently with it like she usually does. âWant to take a shower or anything?â she murmurs and you shake your head, suddenly not even wanting to look at her. She walks into the closet to find some pajamas and throws one of the pairs that you keep at her place onto the bed.Â
Itâs like youâre suffocating. âHey, Agatha,â you say before you even think it through. âI think Iâm going to go back to the dorms tonight.â You hear the rustling inside the closet stop and your heart beats faster. âI just â I just remembered that Alice and I were going to do something.âÂ
Thereâs a part of you that wants to stay so you can snoop through her phone and computer, but your skin is itching and you canât breathe.Â
She pokes her head out from within the closet with a frown. âIs everything okay?âÂ
You nod and try to smile. âYeah, Iâm good. Iâll see you later, yeah?âÂ
You donât even wait for her to respond before getting out of the bed, walking back to the living room to pick up your bra and shirt and quickly putting them on. You hear her call after you as you walk out the door and it feels like you just had a one night stand with a total stranger.Â
The entire drive back to campus passes in a blur and when you stumble into the dark room, you hear Alice turn over in bed and mutter something. You apologize quietly before getting some clothes and going to shower.Â
Hot water stings your skin and you crumple under the weight of Agathaâs betrayal, ending up sitting right beneath the water stream and staring blankly at the floor. You thought that her of all people would understand what it would feel like, both from having been cheated on by your dad and because she knows that you witnessed him doing it twice.Â
And who was she having an affair with? A colleague? A friend? Maybe she met someone online.Â
Every single possibility hurts the same.Â
Before you even realize it, sobs are racking through your body, the pain too much to keep inside anymore. Tears blend with the water and drip down your face, the taste of salt heavy on your lips. Your entire body shakes with the effort of keeping quiet so Alice doesnât come and check on you but a muffled cry slips out occasionally.Â
Fuck Agatha. Fuck Agatha. Was she just using you? Were you just a pawn in her unhappy marriage to your dad? After everything, after all her insecurities about you leaving her for someone your own age â clearly, you shouldâve been the one that was worried.Â
The water turns your skin pruny and gets colder and itâs only a matter of time before youâre shivering, but you still donât move. Youâre not sure you can. You know that you need to end things with her, but the thought of her just being gone is unbearable.Â
Swallowing roughly, you start to feel dirty for still fucking her after you saw the text but you push it down the best you can and get out of the shower finally. Thereâs a few texts from Agatha on your phone but you ignore them while brushing your teeth and then you find an old stuffed animal that your mom snuck into one of your suitcases.Â
Hugging the bear tightly and willing yourself not to cry anymore, you drift off to an uneasy sleep after a while, and when you wake up a few hours later, you donât feel rested at all.Â
Alice is already gone when you roll over to face her side of the room and you groan, the emptiness still lingering inside you.Â
When you grab your phone off the nightstand, thereâs even more texts from Agatha and two missed calls. You roll your eyes and keep scrolling to find a message from your mom.Â
Want to come over for lunch today?Â
The thought of leaving your bed seems impossible right now so you text her that something came up and shut your phone off. Wallowing in self-pity is definitely one of the worst things you can do, but the weight on your chest makes it hard to do anything else, so you curl up with your blanket wrapped around yourself and start watching episodes of your comfort show. You donât even realize how much time has passed until Alice comes back into the room and opens the blinds, letting in bright sunshine and you hiss and shift away from it.Â
âAre you sick?â she asks, regarding your swollen eyes and mussed up state. You shake your head numbly and mumble something that neither of you understand. âWhat?âÂ
You hit the spacebar on your laptop to pause the show and pick your head up. âNot feeling well,â you say and she looks at you with concern.Â
âDo you need anything? I can go get you some medicine or food or something?â Alice offers and you wish you were in a better mood to appreciate how sweet sheâs being. But you shrug and shake your head before burrowing back into your cocoon. She stares at you for a long moment before sighing heavily and grabbing her backpack.Â
Sheâs out the door before you can ask her to close the blinds.Â
The show becomes mind-numbingly boring pretty quickly after that, your stomach is grumbling, and you really have to pee, so you decide to finally leave your nest of blankets and sadness and leave your dorm. The lights blind you and you stumble down the hallway and the moment you step outside, you do start to feel better.Â
The weather in New Jersey is absolutely perfect. The muted warmth hits your skin and the fresh air puts a new spin on your feelings and you can start to think more rationally.Â
You just need to talk to Agatha. Maybe thereâs a perfectly reasonable understanding. Of course youâd think it was an affair considering your dadâs past. And if it is, then maybe you can work through it. And if you canât work through it, then â you donât want to think about it.Â
Itâs unhealthy to be willing to stay with her after she did that, but you fucking need her. Sheâs become such an addiction and even now, when youâre absolutely furious and heartbroken, you still crave her.Â
âYou look like shit,â someone says, stepping next to you as youâre browsing the vending machine outside the building. Sheâs a bit taller than you, with shoulder-length blonde hair and hazel-green eyes, wearing a red sweatshirt and blue leggings. Sheâs checking you out, taking in your disheveled appearance, and is clearly not impressed.Â
You ignore her and put a dollar bill into the machine, selecting a bag of chips.Â
She chuckles to herself. âIâm Carol. Sorry, didnât mean to be rude, but it looks like youâre really going through it.âÂ
The chips get stuck and you slap the glass angrily until they fall down. âYeah, well,â you finally huff, bending down to get your snack through the slot. âThink Iâm going through a break up. Iâm not really sure though.â You regret telling this total stranger that the moment it leaves your mouth.
Carolâs face softens. âAh, fuck, sorry to hear about that. You look like quite the catch, not sure why anyone would let you go.â The compliment â the flirting? â makes your cheeks heat up and you inwardly curse the betrayal of your own body. You shift uncomfortably and look down at the ground, not sure of what to say. âWell, anyway, Iâm throwing a party in like an hour. Room 223 if you want to come by. Pregame starts in thirty minutes and it seems like you could use a drink.â And then she walks away, leaving you completely dumbfounded.Â
You know that getting drunk is absolutely not what you should be doing right now, especially because youâre just starting to feel better about things, but fuck it. You can get drunk and have fun and let loose â you fucking deserve it.Â
Plus, Agatha is probably on her date right now, so you make the executive decision that youâre going.Â
Alice is back in your room when you get there, sitting on her phone on her bed, and she gives you a pleasant smile. Youâre still a little shaken from the conversation with Carol you just had, but feeling more confident. âHey, do you want to go to a party with me tonight?â you ask. Itâll be safer if you have someone you know and trust there.Â
But Alice raises an eyebrow. âIâm not really a big party person. Sure you donât want to just stay in and we can watch a movie or something? I thought you werenât feeling too well.âÂ
You shrug it off. âIâm feeling a lot better now. And Iâve been watching stuff all day. You donât have to come, but if you change your mindâŚâ You trail off, hoping that sheâll reconsider but she just gives you an apologetic look.Â
Which means that thirty minutes later, youâre walking alone down the corridor and awkwardly knocking on the door. A moment later, it swings open and Carol beams when she sees that itâs you.Â
The second she ushers you in, she thrusts a shot of something into your hand and you take it without thinking twice.Â
Itâs absolutely foul and it burns your throat and you almost gag. âGive me another,â you gasp and Carol claps you on the shoulder.Â
Three more shots later and you are absolutely fucked up. The party hasnât even started yet and your legs are vibrating and everything seems so far away and so close at the same time. Carol has been standing by you the whole time and when you asked her if she was drinking as well, she said she was too busy keeping an eye on you.Â
So you take another shot.Â
âYou might want to slow down,â Carol says and you pfft before waving your hand dismissively. âI know youâre going through something, but youâre going to feel awful tomorrow.âÂ
âMaybe, but Iâd feel a lot better if you drank with me!â you say suggestively, even though it barely makes any sense. She looks amused and refuses the cup of beer you grab off the table and offer her.Â
You learn that sheâs a computer science major, a junior, and has a passion for aviation.Â
âCan you take me flying sometime?â you ask and she laughs before agreeing. You think she might be doing it just to humor you, but youâre planning to hold her to it if you remember this conversation tomorrow.Â
The drunkenness starts to set even more in, and all you can think about is Agatha. You should be with her right now, laying in between her legs while she kisses your head and toys with the waistband of your underwear. You miss her and the way she smells and the way her body feels on yours.Â
And itâs so fucking depressing that it physically hurts.Â
âI wanna go see her,â you slur and from the wince on Carolâs face, you think you might be shouting.Â
âWho?â she asks.Â
You have to search your brain for who youâre talking about and then laugh at the absurdity of having forgotten. The room spins and you have to grip onto Carolâs bicep. âAgatha,â you say like itâs so fucking obvious. âI want â I need to see her. Can you take me to her place? Iâm so drunk!âÂ
Carol looks you up and down and nods, as if reaching the same conclusion about your state of mind. âIs this the chick who you broke up with?âÂ
âI donât think we broke up. I think sheâs cheating on me though. I should go talk to her and tell her that I love her and I donât care,â you say and Carol raises an eyebrow. âWhat?âÂ
She shrugs. âIf sheâs cheating on you, then you should end things. Have some self-respect.âÂ
Red blurs your vision and you scoff. âFuck off,â you spit and give her a little shove before tripping to the door and you hear her rush after you.Â
âOkay, okay, Iâll take you,â she says, holding onto your arm before you fall. She leads you all the way down and to her car. âIf you throw up in here, I will leave you on the side of the road.âÂ
The threat makes you giggle but you do start to feel a little nauseous so you roll down the window and let the wind sober you up a bit. You think Carol says something, but youâre too wrapped up in your own thoughts to comprehend.Â
Will Agatha be mad at you? Obviously confronting her while hammered isnât exactly the right way to do it, but you canât wait anymore and at least now, you have the guts to do it.Â
Fuck, what if sheâs with the other person? Now you feel even more like youâre about to puke at the thought of walking in and finding her in bed with another woman, going down on her, making her moan.Â
Your fists ball up and you furiously blink back tears. Should you ask Carol to turn the car around?
But before you can decide, sheâs pulling into the parking lot of Agathaâs apartment and youâve started hyperventilating.Â
âYou donât have to do this,â she reminds you but you shake your head and try to calm your racing heart. âDo you want me to come in with you?âÂ
âNo, Iâm okay,â you say, more to yourself than to her. You are okay. You can do this. Itâs better to know now than to drag it out. âThanks for driving me though.â
You do feel a little more clear-minded when you get out of her car and youâre able to make it to the side door of the building with little trouble. You pull out the keys from your purse and let yourself in and then you take a deep breath when you get to her door.Â
The key in your hand pauses an inch away from the lock and you feel the wave of emotions wash over you again. You could turn back now and not know, or you could potentially fuck everything up.Â
But you donât think youâd be able to forgive yourself if you didnât go in right now, so you unlock the door and push it open, bracing for whatever you find.Â
Except the lights are off and you donât hear or see anything.Â
âHello?â you call out into the apartment, but thereâs no answer. Maybe Agatha is asleep. You creep in and kick your shoes off, flicking on the hallway light before going to peek in her bedroom.Â
Agatha isnât there.Â
You wander through the entire place and there is no sign of her. Maybe sheâs still out. A bitter feeling boils to life in your stomach, replaced by a masochistic thrill at the thought of her coming home with someone only to find you.Â
Her laptop on the table is gone so you canât even go through it to figure out what she was looking at so you decide to tear the place apart looking for anything that might indicate infidelity.Â
Nothing.Â
Maybe this is the first time then. Or maybe sheâs just really good at hiding it.Â
You settle onto the couch, positioning yourself so youâre facing the door, and youâre determined to wait until she gets home to call her out.Â
But she doesnât come home the entire night.Â
Youâre awoken in the morning by the sound of the door opening and you jolt up. Where are you? What is happening? Your head hurts so fucking bad and your mouth is totally dry.Â
Agatha walks into the living room and gasps when she sees you, dropping her bag to the ground in shock. âWhat are you doing here? Why havenât you been answering my texts and calls? Do you know how worried Iâve been?â she demands and you understand about one-third of it over the pounding behind your eyes. âYou cannot just go radio silent on me like that, okay? You were acting so weird the night before and then you completely ignored me andââ
âAre you cheating on me?â you interrupt, and it stops her cold.Â
âWhat?â
âDo you need me to repeat it?â you snap.Â
Agatha scoffs and comes to sit next to you and reaches out a hand to touch you, but you shrink away from her and she looks hurt. âWhy would you think that?âÂ
And itâs the exact same card your dad played when you confronted him â play dumb to buy yourself more time, figure out what they know and then lie to cover up the rest. âI saw the text on your phone. The one about someone not being able to wait to see you? And then you slammed your laptop closed. So, are you cheating on me?âÂ
She purses her lips and pinches the bridge of her nose before looking at you earnestly. âNo, I am not cheating on you.â You throw your arms up in disbelief and she lays a hand on your leg. You flinch. âThe other night, when you came over, I was polishing off my resume and I didnât want you to see it.âÂ
âYour resume? Why were you working on that?âÂ
Agatha looks to the ceiling and then back at you like sheâs trying to figure out what to say. âI was doing that because I had a job interview last night. An old colleague of mine had reached out about an open position at their company â a higher status, better paying one than I have right now. I had an interview last night. She was the one that texted me that and it wasnât meant to be flirty, itâs just been awhile since weâve seen each other. Iâll show you the rest of the messages if you want.âÂ
You nod, but an immense sense of relief crashes over you and you feel slightly bad for how youâd been reacting. Especially for the marks you left all over her, now knowing that she actually needed to look professional and you definitely made that harder. âOkay, well, why didnât you just tell me? If itâs a better opportunity, then you should take it.â The tenseness is still in the air â why does it still feel like thereâs a sword hanging over you, about to fall at any given moment?
She takes a deep breath and meets your eyes. âThe job is in New York. Iâd have to move.âÂ
And the sword drops.Â
@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7 @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @vyvvycg
the first rule of eating pussy is to have fun and be yourself
I need several years to recover from this one event (x)(x)
smut prompt list no. 3
1) mirror sex
2) sex in front of a big window where anyone could glance up and spot them
3) fully clothed x stark naked
4) slow sex while one or both are injured (bonus points if itâs after a battle or after theyâve patched up each otherâs wounds)
5) body worshippingÂ
6) marathon session (they just fucking keep going, babyyyy)
7) finding a somewhat private area at a fancy party to fuck (coat closet, empty office, secluded corner on the big balcony, hedge maze if we wanna get dramatic, etc)Â
8) oops, we were just hiding in this closet, but then the close proximity get us too turned on not to fuck
9) revenge sex
10) finding their partnerâs sex toy/toys and making them play with it in front of them
11) quickie where you donât take any clothes off, just tug and pull and expose the essentialsÂ
12) fucking, but one is still trying to keep all of their attention on the game they are playing
13) getting a little too handsy on the dancefloor
14) library sex for those dark academia vibes
15) jealous sex in the alleyway behind the bar
16) accidental i love youâs during sexÂ
17) seeing the love marks they left on their partner later and getting turned on all over again remember how it got there in the first place
18) a/b/o
19) getting turned on by their partnerâs new uniform for work and then roleplaying a bit
20) sleepy domestic sex
need a pretty girl to come sit on my lap strap
need to eat out an anxious over-achiever girl so good she sleeps for hours while i cook her food in the underwear she just came in
Gorgeous photos of Kathryn Hahn from last night at the Middle Aged Dad Jam Band concert at @SFSketchfest
đ¸ livemusic.jpg on IG
hi!! I just found your blog, can I request g!p detective!agatha railing reader in a missionary position and has a bulge kink (poking the bearđ¤đââď¸)
thank you so much for this request it was very fun to write, i hope you enjoy it!
fuck the police:
detective agnes o'connor x fem!reader
You fucked up and finally got caught for your long-running streak of graffiti artistry. What's worse than being arrested, however? Being interrogated by the one detective in town who causes you to question your all out hatred for the profession.
word count: 6.2k
tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, agnes is trans/intersex/has a penis, penis in vagina sex, power bottom!reader, service top!agnes (but agnes still needs a little control of course), handcuffs, breeding kink, bulge kink, agnes loves reader's tits, smut
author's note: trans butch agnes, my beloved. also i probably could've done more research into a more realistic set up/i know this isn't how someone being arrested/interrogated would work but it's porn so...hopefully you can look past that
You never thought youâd find yourself here, arrested and waiting to be questioned for your crimes. Perhaps you shouldâve seen it coming, your graffiti art has steadily risen in popularity over the last few months, ever since one particularly evocative piece got featured on the local news and allegedly inspired a number of protests throughout the city of Westview.
Not that you had anything to do with that.
The police department has issued several requests for information on you, even offering a pretty handsome reward for the proven identity of âHexâ, the name you tag every piece with. A rumor has even reached your ears about a copycat artist getting arrested over in Eastview. Serves them right for using your signature, but it at least has kept the feds off your trail for a bit.Â
Admittedly, youâd gotten cocky thinking you could get away with tagging the squad car stationed at the busiest intersection in town. In your defense, it had looked empty. How were you supposed to know the deputy on duty was napping in the back seat? Youâd made it halfway through the looping pink pig face you were sprawling across the windshield before he woke up and chased you down four blocks.
If you were wearing your usual running shoes instead of having slipped on an old pair of slides in your rush out of the house, you probably wouldâve outrun the middle-aged cop chasing you, another mistake you wonât make again.
  Now, you sit shivering in nothing but a sheer white tank top and sweatpants so spattered in all the vibrant colors of your, now confiscated, cans of spray paint, that you canât even remember what color the pants originally were. You werenât an idiot, you had a black hoodie on when you went out to do your work, but the rookie cop that booked you at the station also insisted on taking your sweatshirt for âevidenceâ.
Youâre pretty sure he just wanted to see you suffer in the refrigerator-like temperature they keep the precinct at, clearly only recently having graduated the academy and already taking a shine to abusing his power. Pigs, indeed.Â
The interrogation room they brought you to well over 30 minutes ago sits at the very back of the building, a windowless box that somehow looks and smells both musty and sterile. A large one-way mirror covers the wall opposite the door, the only noise in the confined space being the tick-tick-tick of the clock above it that reads just past midnight.
You rattle the short chain connecting your handcuffed wrists to a bar on the heavy metal table in front of you, just to disrupt the suffocating silence. Have you seriously been forgotten here?
Just as you have that thought, as if summoning another person into existence with it, the door, opposite the corner where you sit, opens briskly.Â
Twin sighs of irritation drop from both your mouth and the supposed detectiveâs as she enters. You canât make out too many details of her appearance at first because of the dim lighting that mostly just illuminates the table you sit at, as well as the fact that she has her head down looking over what you assume is your intake forms.Â
âI want a lawyer.â Are the first words out of your mouth once the woman has turned to shut the door behind her.
âHa!â She laughs dryly and it has you simmering with rage already, but something about it also sounds familiar.
 âWell, sweetie,â The still concealed detective continues as she finally steps into the light, ânot likely to find a public defender thatâs available at this hour, but if you insist on staying overnightâŚâ She trails off amusedly, finally stepping into the light and causing your prepared reply to die in your throat as you connect the recognition of the voice with the blue eyes that meet yours.
âDetective OâConnor.â You greet, trying to keep your tone even.Â
Fuck.
Of fucking course, of all the detectives in the goddamn city, this is who had to come question you. The same detective youâve served coffee to every morning for the better part of three years at your shitty cafe day job. The same detective who barely acknowledges your existence, but when her fingers brush yours as you pass her usual over the counter, you think about it for the rest of the day. The detective you berate yourself for fantasizing about, because sheâs everything you despise and your friends would never let you hear the end of it if they found out, especially with how often youâre spouting your âradicalâ political beliefs (not that you see them that way.)
Detective Agnes fucking OâConnorâŚ
This is not how you imagined it would look if you ever got her in a room alone.
âHuh? Do I know you?â She questions, almost offended, and now youâre the one to let out a dry laugh.
âHere, let me help jog your memory.â You say, picking up the small, paper cup of water that had been left on the table for you in one bound hand, holding it aloft and reciting her order.
 âOne large hot coffee with two sugars and half a pump of vanilla.â
She looks unaffected at your display, only raising both eyebrows once in sudden recognition before sauntering over to the chair on the other side of the table and sitting down casually.Â
âImpressive, that how youâve avoided custody so long? Charming Westviewâs finest by memorizing their coffee orders?â Her questions are laced with condescension.
âNope, just yours. Why? Is it working?â You smirk despite your better judgment. You hadnât planned to try the flirting route to get out your charges, but hey, the best schemes have an element of truth to them. Plus, if this is the only chase youâll have to speak to the detective alone, you might as well make the most of it.Â
She doesnât answer, instead leaning back in the rickety metal chair that lets out a squeal at the motion. Her long brown hair is pulled back into a ponytail thatâs tied low at the base of her skull. Blue flannel sleeves are rolled up to the elbow and itâs all you can do not to think about tracing your tongue over the veins that snake over her strong forearms.
The jeans sheâs wearing strain with the way she sits, legs spread apart, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop from letting out a gasp when you notice how it puts the delicious outline of whatâs beneath the denim on display. Fuck, you do not need to be thinking about straddling the woman where she sits and grinding down against her bulge right now, but you are anyway.
Mercifully, she leans forward again in the seat to ask another question and the view is gone. You need to focus if youâre going to get out of this without incriminating yourself.
âWhat were you doing tonight?â She asks flatly, getting down to business. You know better than to provide anything resembling an answer, true or false.
âThis whole thing seems pretty excessive, all things considered. I mean, an interrogation? Really, Agnes?â Her first name slips out before you can catch it, but you donât really care.
âJust answer the question. And itâs Detective.â The flare of anger in her eyes only spurs you on.
âSorry, Detective Agnes,â you correct yourself, purposefully using her name this time, just to see that flash of heat again.Â
âIf you were so curious about where I was tonight you couldâve just asked me out.â Now that youâve opened the floodgates, the suggestive remarks just keep coming out.
For Agnesâ part, she remains still and draws in an angry breath. Her blue eyes blaze with irritation at your lack of cooperation more than the intrigue you were hoping for, but that just means youâll have to turn up the dial on this improvised plan youâve laid out for yourself. Whatâs the worst that could happen, anyway?
âListen, if youâre going to keep wasting my time Iâll just lock you up now and wait âtil morning.â She threatens with a glowering expression, voice raising every few words in an attempt to intimidate. Itâs kind of cute, actually.Â
You think she might hear just how her phrasing comes out and anticipate your next response, because she almost looks remorseful. The slightest pink tone that rises to her cheeks and the way she pokes her tongue out to wet her bottom lip when her eyes flick down to your barely covered chest donât escape your careful observations either.Â
âOoo,â you start, falsely scandalized, ânow you want me to spend the night?â A slight giggle escaping you at your own words and the way you lift your handcuffed wrists in front of you playfully.Â
With the action, youâre sure to press your biceps against either side of your body to even more obviously display your tits, and she canât help but look down with the movement, eyes raking over your nipples that stand at attention beneath the thin fabric in the cold space.
Heat is practically rolling off her in waves and you canât tell for sure if itâs arousal or fury that is threatening to boil over, or what will happen when it does, but you have always been the type to take risks. Why stop now?
âCanât you just get me off with a warning? I mean- let me offâŚâ You ask before she can recover from your last question, attempting a simper at the intentional slip up in your speech.Â
It seems that this is what finally pushes her over the edge as she slams her hands loudly against the metal table and stands up, causing it to vibrate with the impact. Her chair goes clattering to the ground behind her, but she doesnât seem to care. The satisfied expression you wear drops for a second at the forceful display, maybe this wasnât the best idea.
âAlright, thatâs enough!â She shouts, leaning over so you can practically feel her breath on your face before she rounds the table quickly.
âDo you really wanna keep poking the bear?!â She asks, furious, now standing at your right side and heavily folding at the waist to shout into your ear.Â
You have to lean away slightly at the volume that threatens to burst your eardrum and it provides just enough space to look the detective up and down where she stands.Â
Thatâs when you see it.Â
Unmistakable and pressing against the zipper of her jeans so forcefully that itâs a wonder they havenât burst; Detective OâConnor is hard.Â
You canât drag your eyes away from the tented fabric, so obvious that it nearly casts a shadow onto the denim in the odd light of the room. As you are still seated, youâre practically at the perfect level to just lean over and mouth the length through her pants. Itâs all you can do not to let your head dip where it wants to most, as if youâre a magnet being drawn by its opposite charge.
âI- uh.â You stutter, unsure of your words for the first time since she walked in. The amount of saliva that has accumulated in your mouth at the sight in front of you forces you to swallow before you speak again.
âI think Iâd rather have the bear poke me.â You breathe, sounding wrecked just at the thought.
When you finally drag your gaze back up to hers, her face is burning red, but this time you can tell it is much more out of embarrassment than anger. She looks self conscious in a way youâve never seen and itâs so, so pretty.Â
âItâs okay I c-â You start, reaching out uselessly in your confines, but youâre cut off from your attempt at a rare comforting word when Agnes seizes your right shoulder and lifts you to your feet. She then immediately folds you over and presses you against the table on your stomach, handcuffed hands pinned beneath your chest. You let out a grunt at the forceful action as well as the freezing cold metal that almost stings your skin that has warmed at your flirting.
The position is much like the one you were put in a few hours ago upon your arrest, only now it causes you to ache with desire instead of seeth with fury.Â
âYou think this is funny?!â She questions, but it sounds strained and unsure. Your own hesitance at her intentions keeps you from muttering out that itâs actually not funny, itâs really fucking hot.
It dawns on you then that she probably turned you over like this so you arenât able to see the blush thatâs probably still spreading over her skin, or the bulge in her pants thatâs no doubt only getting worse, especially with how you purposefully arch your back in her grasp.
She has you pinned beneath her hands, one still on your shoulder and the other holding your waist, the perfect placement for her to pull you back against her. Instead, a shaky breath sounds from behind you. It seems like sheâs deciding what to do next and you can almost feel the heat radiating from between her hips that begs her to choose the option youâre hoping for too.
You start pressing back yourself, impatient and using any amount of leverage possible to reach your destination. To help her decide.
âCome on, detective. Let me help you out.â You nearly whisper in the most convincing and sweet voice you can muster. Her hands loosen ever so slightly at the soft sound and you use the opportunity to slide the last inch backwards, your ass just barely brushing her front, aware also that if she had wanted to stop you she wouldâve easily been able to.
You feel the hardness and heat of her cock against you through both your clothing and nearly release a whimper at the sensation, at the idea of her finally being inside you like youâve fantasized about so many times.Â
Just as quickly as itâs there, itâs gone again. Her hands release you entirely and she steps away without a word, leaving you feeling even colder than the steel table youâre slumped against. You drop your head to the metal in defeat. Thatâs it, you think. Your efforts haven't worked and youâre not only going to spend the night in a cell, but youâre going to do so while very uncomfortably wet and wound up. Plus, sheâs probably going to try to add attempted bribery or harassment to your charge sheet. God, this was a dumb idea. Why couldnât you have just gotten some old guy detective whose questions you would have dodged coldly and without a second thought?
All these thoughts flash through your head in the few seconds it takes Agnes to step away from the table and turn you by the hips to face her, the chain keeping you there being just long enough to allow such movement.Â
You look down immediately, as if out of instinct, to find the large bulge still present, possibly even more so somehow. A bolt of desire strikes through your core at the small dark spot you notice has formed on the crotch of the already dark jeans. The evidence of your effect threatens to turn your legs to jelly. Finally, your eyes raise to meet Agnesâ with a curiosity, who stands less than a foot from you, hands still holding your hips loosely. The thrill of not knowing what sheâll do next makes your already racing heart beat even faster.
You find that she looks as weak as you feel, drinking you in like youâre an ice cold glass of water sheâs found in the middle of the sahara. Itâs clear that sheâs used up every last thread of restraint she has to resist your offer, and it still has proven to be insufficient. Her blue irises have nearly been swallowed by blown black pupils that bore into you as she speaks her resignation to her rapturous fate.
âIf Iâm gonna fuck you,â she breathes the words out like sheâs just run a marathon, âitâs gonna be while looking at those pretty tits.â
You lean back into the table in favor of collapsing straight to the floor at those words. How is this actually happening?
Seeing you stumble into the table, her right hand shifts down to your thigh and lifts, helping you to sit on the ledge as she steps closer to let your knees bracket her body. She looks so much more confident in this moment, and not in the same stone-faced way she had while you prodded at her before. It brings a soft smile to your lips and she looks away, somewhat coyly, at your noticing. Itâs hard to decide if you prefer her shy or assertive. Â
Blunt nails graze gently over your covered thighs, to your hips, then your waist, before finally settling over your scarcely contained breasts. Your own sharp intake of breath meets your ears as you lean into the warm touch and she squeezes them with a smirk playing on her lips.
  âI might not remember your faceâŚâ she rasps, leaning to speak directly into your right ear, âbut I definitely remember these.â Both thumbs move to brush over your already pebbled nipples, causing them to harden further. You roll your eyes, both at the comment and at the thread of pleasure that tugs right from where she touches you all the way down to your pulsing clit.
For all the humor in it, you canât help but notice just how sincere her comment sounds and flashes run through your mind of every low cut top youâve ever worn to work, wondering which oneâs are her favorite.
âShut up and fuck me already.â You exhale with a chuckle against her cheek, momentarily forgetting your binds and trying to reach around her shoulders to pull her closer. The chain rattles loudly and you jerk with the reminder of your limited movement.
Agnes shakes her head and laughs at your needy but firm command as well as your inability to move.
âHere, let me.â She continues laughing gently as she reaches for the key ring you somehow hadnât yet noticed swinging from her hip.Â
âNo.â You blurt before you can think better of it.Â
âLeave them.âÂ
Itâs a daring statement and you run your tongue across your teeth mischievously while the implication works its way through the womanâs mind. Her lower lip disappears into her mouth with how hard she bites into it, looking at you in disbelief and utter need.Â
âFuck,â is all she says, dropping the keys back to her side and moving instead to undo her belt with a clumsy haste.Â
You would be scrambling to remove your own pants as well, not wanting to waste anymore time, but your own request has left you unable to do so. Instead, youâre left in awe as the black leather belt is unlatched and left hanging loosely open while Agnes works at her zipper. Even less is left to the imagination when denim is pulled aside to reveal cotton boxer briefs protruding with the tension of her arousal.
Her cock is pressing tautly against the soft, grey material and the way the underwear clings to her body causes you to gape at the implication of how much the secure garment is still concealing.Â
The dark spot youâd noticed on her jeans is even darker and more centralized to its origin on the grey cloth. Saliva fills your mouth again at the sight, the only thing better than seeing her from beneath that last layer of clothing will be when it is finally removed.
As if reading your mind and wanting you to suffer a moment long, she pauses her motions of undressing any further. Before you can argue or make a snide remark, her hands are on your own waistband, tugging the paint-covered article down as much as she can while youâre still seated. You canât very well lift yourself with your hands at the moment, so you slip off the table quickly to help get them the rest of the way down, hopping back up just as swiftly and letting her pull them off your legs, shoes falling to the floor one by one in the process.Â
The cold table under your mostly bare ass draws the breath from you momentarily, only a black pair of boyshorts now protecting you from the metal.
âDo you ever wash these?â Agnes asks down at the rainbow vomit littering your clothing before dropping the pants to the floor, a real dry humor in her voice replacing the stern, mocking one from when she first entered the room.
âWhatâs the point?â You ask, because seriously, why would you wash them if youâre just going to get paint all over them again?
âDo you answer every question with a question?â She fires back, moving back between your knees from where sheâd stepped back to help undress you. Her fingers play again at her own waistband, dipping into them slightly before meeting your eyes, waiting for your answer.
âDo you always stall like this when a girl wants you to fill her pussy?â You ask with an exaggerated expression of curiosity, as if you are genuinely awaiting the answer and not just communicating your impatience.Â
Her cheeks pink again at the response, any clever comebacks quickly forgotten. You remove your gaze from her face and shift it back to her arousal to allow her to blush in private.
In your peripheral vision, you see her eyes flick up to watch your face as she dips her left hand into her underwear and grasps herself so gently, right hand pushing the material down to reveal what youâve been waiting for.
Youâre first met with a mess of dark curls that trail all the way up to her belly button, which you only catch a quick glimpse of with the way her shirt momentarily gets caught by her arm. You stifle a moan at the reveal of her thick cock; rock hard, reddened and still beading pre-cum, as you saw evidenced on the front of her jeans and underwear.
Now you slightly regret having her leave the cuffs on, as you long to reach out and take the length in your hands, or better yet, your mouth. Heat takes your face at the idea of getting on your knees before the detective and gagging on her length, and now youâre the one blushing and biting your lip.
Painfully tearing your eyes from the beautiful sight to catch Agnesâ expression, you find her still looking for your reaction. She finds exactly what sheâs looking for in the way your eyes soften and you use one finger, your hands still bound at the wrists and settled in front of your chest, to beckon her forward.
Loose strands of brown hair that have escaped her messily tied back tendrils brush the side of your face as she leans in close to catch your message.
âI need your cock inside me, detective.â You husk, more than speak, into her ear, the lust dripping from the title she insisted on minutes ago causing a physical and auditory shudder through the woman. Looking back down, you see Agnes stroke herself once, as if your words have rendered her unable to resist.
Maybe she notices that youâre about to make a comment about it, because in one swift motion Agnesâ right hand flies up to your left shoulder, shifting you fully to your back on the table. You let out a gasp at the sudden movement, metal tabletop clattering at the impact and drowning out the sound. Just as quickly as youâve adjusted to your new position, youâre being pulled by the thighs to the very edge of the table and towards exactly what you want, Agnes then guiding you to wrap your spread legs around her hips for support.
âYou need this, huh?â She asks, hungrily looking over your body from her new perspective. Youâre about to answer her question with your own when she slowly and teasingly drags the head of her cock from your clit to your entrance, over your underwear. Her timing is getting a little too convenient.
You groan at the feeling of your own wetness being pressed against you by her hardness. It makes you ache knowing itâs so close to being consumed by your heat, only a thin shield of fabric left between you. If you had full range of motion of your hands, you would have already ripped the rest of your clothing off, but the quick and dirty way youâre both still mostly clothed almost turns you on more.Â
Desperate to maintain the dizzying contact, your hips grind upward as your legs become a vice, pulling her ever closer. The clear enthusiasm only spurs her on, gliding back up and down again, circling your clit three times with her cock on the last pass until you're squirming beneath her and hopelessly trying to contain your whimpering. You would rather wait a lifetime for your orgasm than beg a cop.
Youâre so sopping wet, though, that when you look down between your bodies you can see the way her cock shines with your arousal despite not having yet made full contact. Itâs almost too much to bear, your clit throbbing in time with your pounding pulse. Something has to give or youâre soon going to be a blabbering mess.Â
âJust fuck me, Agnes!â You bark out, hips rising insistently and your voice verging on a whine.
The room goes still for a moment, even the clock ticking away on the wall seems to pause for dramatic effect as she quirks an eyebrow and tilts her head dangerously at your outburst. That same feeling from before washes over you, when you thought you mightâve really fucked up, but it only lasts for half a second before a hand is shoving your ruined underwear to one side and you feel the tip of her resting at your entrance.
Your eyes meet her blue ones, which are actually still mostly black, especially in this light. They burn into you like before and you donât know whether her silence is a good or bad thing.Â
You draw in your own shaky breath, waiting for her next move, and on the exhale she sheathes herself to the hilt inside of you.
Even she canât contain her half of the guttural growl that comes from both of you at the perfect feeling. You donât even have the wherewithal to feel embarrassed about just how fucking soaked you are that she was able to slide all the way in with one thrust, because the way her cock is filling you up so completely has rendered every other thought irrelevant.
A moment passes where you both breathe, adjusting to the stretch and squeeze respectively. You feel her throb once within you and think, at this point, with enough determination, you could come just from that small amount of friction.
You donât need that determination, though. As if mocking that passing thought, Agnes skips any unnecessary build up and starts at a positively bruising pace. Just one moment ago she was panting over you, looking like she might not even make it two thrusts in before unraveling, and now sheâs slamming into you with a literally breathtaking force.
No intelligible noises are able to come out of your throat at first, only broken, reedy gasps. Your eyes roll back in your head as the glorious, slapping sounds of your joining sexes fill your ears. Her length jabs over and over again at the perfect spot inside you, just where you need her.Â
Doing your best to focus your vision, you look up to see the red face of a woman clearly holding on to her composure for dear life. Her finger nails are short, but still able to bite into your hips ever so slightly as she practically slides you up and down along the table while also moving against you herself, which deepens her thrusts even more.
This also seemingly provides quite the show for Agnes, who you observe is splitting her time between watching your face contorting with pleasure, her cock sliding in and out of your pussy, and most of all, the way your tits are bouncing considerably with her every movement.
âYou like these? You should fuck them.â You make out between gasping breaths, nodding down at your own chest.
Agnes takes a moment to respond, her laser focus causing her to not even register your words at first. When she does however, and notices your gesturing, her thrusting falters only for a moment, as if the idea alone has made her nearly swoon with desire. Crystal irises scan you over again and you can tell sheâs thinking about it by the way her eyebrows knit together in a desperate sort of way.
âMaybe next time.â She decides, smirking down at you and ramming herself into you particularly hard once before returning to her rhythm, while her left hand comes up to grip your right breast greedily.
âMmn- next time?â You ask around a moan, trying not to sound too hopeful, but itâs also such an unexpected sentiment from the detective you canât help but question her further.
âIâd bet good money this wonât be your last arrest,â is all she says to satisfy your curiosity. While itâs also a subtle dig at your evading skills, your imagination still runs wild with the unspoken promise of how a future slip-up might turn out for you. It almost makes you want to get caught again.
âRight, because youâd love to f-fuck, fuck! Oh my god!â Your response turns into a moaning curse when her hand shoots down from playing with your tits so her thumb can land firmly on your clit and press down with flawless pressure, never letting up consistently filling you in the process.Â
âOh fuck! Donât stop! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me..â The mantra spills from your lips while your orgasm mounts within you and you know youâll be toppling over the edge any minute now.
If your hands were free you would be locking your fingers behind her neck and pulling her even closer to you to ensure you get what you want, but the burn of the metal chafing your wrists is a delicious alternative. The pain only sharpens the pleasure youâre feeling everywhere else and you throb at the idea of waking up tomorrow and seeing angry red and purple bracelets of evidence.
At your emphatic request, she doesnât stop. Youâve never been so full before and when Agnesâ cock throbs within you after every couple of pumps, stars explode behind your eyes. Thereâd better be a next time because youâre pretty sure nothing and nobody has or will ever make you feel like this.
âIâm so, so close. Fuck!â You shout, unsure what possesses you to tell her, but her response only drives you closer to the edge.
âFuck, yeah, fucking come for me. Come on my cock, come on my c-cockâŚâ She huffs, the exertion that you were already impressed with her maintaining finally shows in her voice, but she still never lets up. It almost sounds like sheâs begging, a âpleaseâ barely contained behind her lips, and thatâs what makes you really want to come for her.
Chasing your orgasm, you redouble your efforts of rocking your hips up and it makes her length press even more fully against your front wall until youâre practically screaming with pleasure. The new angle caused by your rocking coupled with the way your walls are tightening around her in anticipation of your release is also clearly doing something for Agnes.
Her breaths are coming in short puffs and she is completely unable to stifle the loud whimper that bursts out of her when you clench around her even harder, your orgasm just seconds away.
Thatâs what finally does it, that mewl that you were able to pull from the tough detective. It sends you flying, every muscle tenses and wave after wave of pleasure causes you to buck against the table and Agnes, but she holds you firmly in place, fucking you through it and moaning herself the whole time as she marvels at your release. The aftershocks go on for what feels like forever while you float in your euphoria, never wanting it to end.
After your release, Agnesâ thrusts quickly become short and frantic, almost rutting into you with a fervor. The throbs youâve felt are coming on every pump and youâre content to lie back in your blissed out state and let her take whatever she wants, until she starts to pull out of you, one trembling hand releasing your hip and clearly intent on finishing herself off.Â
Youâre suddenly more lucid than ever, quickly locking your ankles behind her from where theyâd fallen limp, and shoving her back into you until she bottoms out. A surprised breath leaves her at the action, a sheen of sweat breaking across her forehead as she stutters out her reasoning.
âI-Iâm gonna-â She canât even get the words out and itâs the second time in so many minutes that you feel your heart squeeze at just how adorable this usually grave woman is.Â
âI know, I know. Come inside me, baby.â Your voice is thick with desire and youâre still lingering bliss, the pet name slipping out like water, but you need her to know just how badly you want it.
Her eyes widen slightly as a deeper blush somehow takes over her already red face, unsure but so very full of want. You feel her twitch within you despite herself and her hips roll just at the words.Â
You donât break eye contact, making clear how serious you are to quell her doubt.
Tentatively, after a beat, she starts up a slower pace, pulling almost out of you before thrusting all the way back in, like sheâs giving herself time to think again.
âYou can do it baby, I know you want to. Fuck, you feel so good inside me.â You gasp out the words while she fucks back into your pussy and you think you could come again just from the way she looks at you when you say them.
You repeat your cooing encouragements and it doesnât even take three more of those slow thrusts before she falters and stays sheathed inside you, rutting weakly.Â
âCome on, baby.â You repeat, and you know sheâs done.
More of those beautiful whimpers fall from her lips as you feel one stronger throb and then warmth explodes into your walls. You canât help but moan yourself at the feeling of being filled by her. Spurt after spurt of her cum coats your insides while she holds you tighter and tighter, as if youâll float away if she lets go. Her desperate moans die down eventually and she slumps against you, still inside, and draws in one big breath before releasing it slowly. Her eyes are screwed shut and her head is now resting against your restrained hands on your chest.Â
Itâs probably good they're restrained, you think, because if they werenât youâd be having a very hard time resisting running your fingers through her long hair, tenderly scratching your nails against the nape of her neck.
Another beat passes where the two of you breath against one another and come down from your respective highs. The delicious mix of your and Agnesâ cum has started to drip out of you onto the table below and itâs a hot enough thought that your sensitive clit gives a weak twitch and you clench around Agnes unintentionally, causing her to crane her neck to look up at you.
Her eyes are clear again and softer than youâve ever seen them; you let your coursing endorphins carry you away on a cloud of imagining leaning the six inches it would take to capture her lips in yours, but you donât dare actually do it.
She starts to shift, maybe shaking herself from some similar thought, you canât tell. Her soft sex pulls out of you slowly as she pushes up on her hands and waits for you to release her from the grip your legs still have her in. You unsteadily unravel yourself from her, shuddering slightly at the loss and trying not to think about how empty you feel without her.
Now free, she tucks herself back into her briefs and makes quick work of finally undoing your cuffs. Her hands rub at the raw skin absently, using her hold there to pull you into a seated position. She then reaches down for the balled-up mess you call a pair of pants and slides them back onto your trembling legs easily. After youâre relatively put back together, cum still leaking out and coating your already ruined underwear, she looks you over once more with hunger along with something else you canât place.Â
She looks thoughtful, like she wants to say something else but thinks better of it, instead letting a sly smile pull at her mouth and a different comment sneak through with a soft laugh.
âConsider that your warning.â
new oneshot will be out tomorrow from my very first request, so if you sent that request get readyyyy i hope you like it
it's such a bummer that losing control of your emotions only makes the entire situation worse in really embarrassing personal ways. losing control of my emotions should give me pyrokinesis.



