does anyone else put stuff on ao3 or am I freak who hates having to reindent and format things cause copy pasting doesn't bring over the format for some reason?
Brian Thomas is very yandere ish, he kidnapped reader but isn't constantly surveilling them :> sowwy for coming back after 5 years (posted 4.3.26) wc 2.9k
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Waking up with a chain around your ankle was not as normal as Brian wanted you to believe. Expecting you to be adjusted after a month was another expectation of Brian’s you failed to meet.
As the front door opened, you watched Brian come in, give a “Hey pretty thing” as he came in and start his routine: Set the groceries on the floor, start undoing his shoes, back to you as he asks how your day is.
But you know today is different. The grocery bag he sets on the floor has two cake slices, one being your favorite, and the other being red velvet for him. He doesn’t ask you how your day is like he usually does, instead all he offers is, “Are you ready to celebrate today?”
You’ve been counting the days, and today is 31 days exactly. You know Brian, that he considers the day he nabbed you the day you both got together. Today is supposed to be your one month anniversary.
You can’t see his face but you know with Brian that it’s not a right answer wrong answer question, just a question that will either hurt his feelings or result in you having an awkward night with him. You can’t see his face, he has his back to you, sitting on that little step by the door, his shoes on his feet, laces undone. Waiting.
You think nervously. God, how long have you been sitting there in your silence?
“How are we going to celebrate?”, you hesitantly ask.
His head slightly turns to look at you, “I brought cake for us. Thought we would just do a night in.”
He’s silent for a second before kicking off his shoes.
He gets up, takes the bag with him and goes into the kitchen. You can see him behind the island counter, taking plates out of the cupboard, matching ones, grabbing forks. You hear him ruffling in the grocery bag, taking the cakes out of their containers when he talks.
“Toby and Tim are celebrating downstairs in the kitchen together with a double date.”
You nod slowly and say “oh”. Where was he going with this?
“I don’t want you near Tim’s partner. They’re unstable, always trying to get out.”
He’s talking so casually about it that for a moment you’re scared. You remember, how they had burst the door wide open into the little studio area, looked around, saw you with a chain around your ankle attached to a peg on the floor in between the couch and the bed. The way they had gone over to you, said that you all were going to escape together.
But you knew better.
You’d hear screaming matches, between Tim and them, carried through the thin walls of the house. You could hear the occasional cackling of Toby, but you never heard the voice of his partner.
You knew better than to try anything that would anger both Tim and Brian. Obviously, you were ahead on the learning curve.
You just stared at them, watching them go over to the peg in the floor and start to pull at it, talking to you about their grand plan of escaping. How they had gone to look for Toby’s victim, but they were both out of the house. Everyone was gone, all you needed to do was get unchained, run together- run where?- and you’d live.
You just stared at them as they kept on talking. It’s too perfect. Somehow, they manage to get out of Tim’s room, make it to you, and Toby isn’t here. The house is unguarded, perfect for escape. No, Tim and Brian were too smart for that. Toby always enjoyed a good chase but Tim and Brian? No. They always kept you in their sights. So why not now?
You didn’t think, just idly telling them, “I think you should go back to Tim’s room.”
They stopped pulling at the peg in the floor to look at you, “What?”
You needed water, why was your mouth so dry?
“I said that I think you should go back to Tim’s room.”
“Look I know you’re scared but-”
The sudden creak at the staircase had both of you turning. The door was wide open, but the sudden drop down the staircase made it impossible to see what had caused it.
They started to move away, towards the kitchen, going around the low countertop that acted as a barrier to the living room, rifling through the drawers.
There was another creak, louder, closer.
They started searching more frantically in the drawers as a loud footstep was heard on the staircase.
While they had started to search more frequently, the footsteps became louder, more daunting.
You watched as they pulled the drawer fully out, dumping the contents out on the counter before getting a knife.
They turned to the door, there still wasn’t a figure at the staircase.
“I have a knife! Don’t fuck with me! I’m leaving!”, they yelled from the kitchen.
They held the knife in front of them, front and center, arms straight out. They started to move towards the door, nearing the staircase that went straight down to the rest of the house. The staircase that led out of Brian’s loft.
As they moved towards the door, there was a noise from the bathroom door behind it, a squeak of a shoe.
They turned, the knife turning before them, but it didn’t matter: the door to the bathroom burst open and out came Tim, tackling them and the knife skittered as they yelled, Tim on top of them strong arming them as-
“Do you want us to join Toby and Tim downstairs?”
Oh, you got lost in thought again. You looked up from your hands in your lap to Brian, sitting by you on the couch.
“Do you think something will happen?”
Brian’s face softened, “I would never let anything happen to you.”
You bit your lip. Brian may have kidnapped you, but the threat wasn’t him keeping you chained to the floor, it was the other two killers, the other two kidnappees who might rock the boat and set off their volatile emotions.
You looked over at the kitchen, two pieces of cake sat on matching plates with a fork on each. Strawberries and cherries on the side of the plate with your favorite drink.
He may have kidnapped you, but surprisingly enough he never pushed for anything else from you.
You looked back at Brian.
He was still staring at you. Pretty brown eyes, his little mustache, but he was staring at you, not observing you trying to figure you out, watching you and waiting for your answer. You had never formally met Tim or Toby, only ever hearing them from behind the door, Brian telling them to screw off and not bother you. Brian telling Toby that no, those are art supplies meant for you and no you don’t have to share it. Brian rubbing it in the face of Tim how well behaved you are, how you don’t flinch when he comes near you, how you actually talk to him.
Brian, always looking out for you, showing you off not as a shiny toy but as a partner to Toby and Tim. Keeping you away from them, always keeping you safe.
You don’t know how much time has passed before you quietly say yeah.
He looks surprised before saying, “Are you sure? It can be just us. Watch that Christopher Nolan movie you really like.”
Without thinking, you lean forward leaning your forehead against his, watching his eyes dart down to your lips before speaking, “I trust you.”
Brian audibly gulps, staring down at your lips before looking at you. His face feels warm, eyes widely staring at you as he says okay.
He doesn’t move to get away from you but puts a hand on your knee, close to your hands in your lap. He looks to your lips again, leaning in, eyes on you, hand moving on top of yours, gently intertwining your fingers-
You suddenly pull away to look at the door handle that furiously wiggles, Toby calling from beyond the door, “B- Brian can I borrow your match- matched plates?”
You turn back to look at Brian, who sighs, tilts his head back, and says, “Yes, Toby we are coming and we will bring the matching plates.”
Toby lets out a woop before loudly running down the stairs.
Brian squeezes your hand, moving to get up and pulling you up with him. He towers over you, holding your hand, looking down at you.
You squeeze his hand back. Brian immediately smiles, showing off some of his teeth in a crooked smile, ear tips turning red, eyes closing as his smile widens, letting out a happy hum as he speaks, “Let me take your ankle chain off, okay?”
You nod, suddenly aware of how wide your smile is. He moves away to go get the key, and you watch as he goes to his backpack hanging on a peg by the door.
When he comes back with the key, he puts a hand on your shoulder, gently pushing while murmuring for you to sit down.
He gets on his knees in front of you, foot in his lap as he carefully takes the ankle chain off, massaging your ankle before looking up at you.
For a second, you forget about everything, about being chained up by Brian, about how he kidnapped you, and just stare at him.
He moves your foot to the side grabbing both your hands in his, giving you a kiss on the forehead as he comes up. He gently pulls on your hands, “Come on. Let’s go celebrate our anniversary, yeah?”
He grabs the plates in the kitchen before opening the door for you.
You stare down the staircase that goes down into the rest of the house. Brian presses a kiss to the side of your head.
You look down the staircase, the staircase that leads you to a relationship with a Brian, whatever it may be.
You walk down the staircase.
The most awkward part of the dinner was Tim’s partner. You don’t even know their name but you could feel their resentment. Brian must have felt it too, his chair next to you was close enough your knees would bump every now and then.
After the dinner together, you finally feel like you can breathe. Toby didn’t have a partner with him, but Tim’s partner was fuming, pure anger radiating off of them. You didn’t know what happened to Toby’s partner, and you were scared to ask.
“This is going to hurt for a second,” Brian murmured. You looked back down at your hands, seeing scratches (cuts?) on your wrists, deep and overlapping each other.
Brian lifted his hand, holding a wet rag, you winced as it made contact feeling it burn, instinctively trying to pull away. Brian kept a hold of your hand, quietly telling you to hold still while he kept gently dabbing at your wrist.
You looked down at the cuts. What happened?
“You don’t remember?”
When did you say that out loud?
You looked at Brian, kneeling on the floor, holding your arm as you sat on the lid of the toilet seat, when did you get here?
Brian looks at you, his eyes darting across your face looking for something. He looks back down at your arm, and reaches for something, “I’m going to spray this on your arm. It’s going to numb it and then I can stitch and bandage you up, okay?”
You nod, still staring at Brian, letting out a hiss as the spray hits your skin.
He talks as he starts setting up the needle and thread, getting ready to stitch your wounds. As he does, you look away, staring at the shower on your right, the tiles of the bathtub, and the little window inside the bathtub, large enough for someone to slide in through-
Tim’s partner holding the knife out in front of them, watching the creaking stairs, the squeak as a shoe slides off of porcelain, turning too late, too slowly to see what it is, the bathroom door coming down, Tim tackling them the fight going into the kitchen, a screech-
“Hey.”
You turn to look at Brian, tearing your gaze away from the wall. You stare at him before he speaks.
“You keep doing that. You keep forgetting and spacing out.”
He lets go of your arm, placing one hand on your shoulder and one on your knee, looking up at you as he asks, “What’s going on with you?”
You stare back at him. He’s still worried.
You look down at your hands before you ask him, before deciding to address the elephant in the room, “What happened at dinner?”
He places his forehead against yours, brushing his nose against the tip of yours, giving you a gentle squeeze on your shoulder.
“Let me finish taking care of you and I’ll tell you after, okay?”
You turn your head upwards to look at him, “Okay.”
He pulls his head away, keeping quiet as he works on your other arm. It’s silent with the sound of objects being picked up and put down while you go back to studying the tile wall.
The window isn’t that high up, you could definitely climb out of it, but getting down would be the hard part. You’re on the second floor, but as far as you know there’s nothing there, no trellis, no gutter pipe to climb up. How did Tim get in there?
Had Tim already been in the room somehow, waiting for them to come in? How did Tim know for sure that they would come for you? What if they had just decided to run out?
Brian gently squeezes your hand, you turn to look at him. He gives you a kiss to your forehead as he stands up, gently pulling you along with him. He sits you back down on the couch, letting go of your hand as he gets up to put something in the DVD player, grab pillows and blankets from the couch to cuddle with you. He turns off the light and sits next to you, the TV lighting up his face. He doesn’t turn to look at you before he speaks, “How long have you been here?”
“A month.”
He stares at the TV, letting out a hum.
You turn to look at the TV. It’s one of your favorites. You know that the books and DVDs stacked on the shelves underneath the TV are your favorites.
Brian lets out a slow exhale, “A month huh?”
You turn to your left, looking at the chain on the floor, open and shoved in the gap between the couch and the bed.
You look at the TV but you aren’t able to focus. You instinctively reach up to your wrist to scratch it, coming into contact with the bandage, the gauze that’s pressed under it. You start picking at it before Brian’s hand comes over yours softly saying “don’t.”
His hand stays there before traveling down to intertwine with yours. He leans his shoulder against yours before eventually slumping over, leaning his head against yours. He starts rubbing slow circles on the back of your hand.
He lets in a big inhale, then slowly exhales before speaking, “Give me a timeline of this past month.”
You lean your head against his, why do you feel so at ease with him right now?
He turns his head, and as he does you find yourself leaning your cheek out instinctively before Brian presses a kiss to it. He leans his forehead against you.
“Take your time.”
You close your eyes trying to remember. Going to a bar with Brian, him on top of you in the back of his pickup truck, legs thrown over his shoulder as he tests out the car’s poor suspension, the car creaking each time he thrusts into you, a hand on your throat as he leans over you, eyes staring into you-
Without thinking you press your thighs together. Brian gives a squeeze to your hand.
You think about it. Would it be a bad way to start off by saying “Oh yeah we met in a bar and I got laid in the back of your car”?
I mean it can’t be bad to say you remember meeting in a bar. That’s part of the truth. Omitting the sex wouldn’t be that bad right?
You squeeze brian’s hand. Surely, he won’t bring up the car.
“We met in a bar.”
Brian gives a hum, encouraging you to keep going.
“And what happened after?,” he asks.
You feel your face turn pink before speaking, “We were in the back of your car.”
Brian turns, pressing a kiss to the side of your face as you look down and focus on your hands, moving your left hand to pick at the nails of your right hand trapped under Brian’s hand.
“That we were,” he turns his head back towards the TV, leaning against you still, “what happened after that?”
You look at the TV. It’s playing a TV show from when you were a kid, canceled early on but you remember vague memories of watching it as a kid. How had Brian gotten it?
Brian pulls his hand away, standing up, but he doesn’t reach for the TV remote to turn it off, he turns to you instead and holds his hand out to you.
“I’m going to help you try and remember.”
--
//I just want you to know I went through ALL of it to put indents. something about Tumblr not carrying over the indents...
summary — you and gekko have been officially dating for five months, and you've been. . . thinking about things. from what was once, "he's so strong" when he's carrying something developed into "could he throw me on the bed?". of course, you never knew how to initiate it. do you just ask him? does it just escalate? do you have to plan it all out? those questions have been bothering you for so long that you straight up decided, fuck it, and searched it up on the internet. well, that was one way to get it started.
note — this is my first time writing smut LMAO. this might be extremely mid or decent, but i hope i don't disappoint with this!! i couldn't stop thinking about mateo yesterday so i decided i would start making this today. I ALSO CAN'T LEAVE THE MATEO SMUT TAG HAVE ONLY ONE FIC, on that note go check it out its so fucking good i love it.
w/c — 2.5k
warnings — (bad) smut, oral (f receiving), rough (ish), praise, tones of dumbification, kitchen sex, undertones of dom reader but mostly d. gekko and s. reader
not proofread + i am not responsible for any minors interacting w this post
you were done with it.
you were done waiting for your own confidence to go up just so you could. . . have sex with mateo.
just thinking about it had you red.
now that the two of you had finally moved in together, there was even less of a time that you could just do things yourself without him noticing. before you could masturbate whenever you wanted, as loud as you wanted. now you couldn't risk him hearing out of embarrassment.
it's been five months since the two of you had got together, and not once had either of you escalated past a few brief touches under shirts while kissing. mateo hadn't even seen you naked, or even with just a bra and underwear.
you knew that it would be this way until you did something about it. but the thing is, you don't know how.
and that led you here, legs crossed on your shared bed. you took a deep breath and began typing into the laptop on your lap.
"what the fuck do i even type?" you muttered under your breath.
"how to start sex? no, that sounds weird as fuck. how to get in the mood for sex?" you typed that, and instantly glanced towards the door, feeling as if mateo would walk in at any moment.
you were really picky about what websites you went on. you didn't need a whole porn video, but you also didn't need tips on how to get yourself horny.
researching harder than you do for homework, you didn't realize that the door creaked open.
"hey, chica. are you okay with a sandwich for lunch?" he said, alerting you of his presence.
without thinking, you quickly slammed the lid of the computer shut.
he gazed at you questionably, raising his eyebrow. "what was that?"
"it's nothing," you lied terribly.
his eyes narrowed. he could usually tell when you were lying, and it was obvious.
"but i'd love a sandwich," you tried changing the subject, hoping that he'd take the hint you wouldn't tell him.
"whatever you say, hermosa," he gave you a two-finger salute as he walked out the room.
you sighed in relief and opened the laptop again. so far, you had no luck. you did find some tips, but there was no way you were asking him, "hey, wanna fuck?"
you rubbed your hands against your face and let out a long groan. all this trouble just to ask him to destroy you? you flushed thinking about it.
deciding that you needed a break, you set the laptop down, angling the screen so that it wasn't wide open, but it wasn't quite closed.
you made your way downstairs, walking in the kitchen to see mateo with a big red stain on his shirt.
"holy shit, are you okay?" you ran over to him.
"i'm fine princesa. it's just ketchup. did you think it was blood?" he laughed.
you scowled and grabbed the sandwich on the counter, taking a big bite.
"hey, you're the one who thought it was blood, not me." he put his hands up in defense when you glared at him. "thanks for worrying about me though."
you rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face contradicted your irritated behavior.
"yeah, yeah. but if you're ever covered in blood don't expect me to come running."
"my heart," he pouted as he held his hand to his heart.
"don't you have to go get changed?" you questioned, trying to wipe the puppy-eyed look off his face.
"i probably should. look at you with the big ideas," he left the kitchen after giving you a peck on the cheek.
by the time he'd come back, you were busy washing the plate that you had used. he was silent, so when he wrapped his arms around your waist, you jumped and yelped in surprise.
"holy shit mateo, don't scare me like that!" you splashed him with some water, earning a chuckle.
"my bad chica," he apologized.
he stayed still for a few seconds, before he buried his head in the crook of your neck and start giving you little kisses.
"teo?"you questioned him while your face turned hot.
he hummed in response, continuing to trail open mouthed kisses along your neck. you tried your hardest not to gasp and tilt your neck.
"c'mon mateo, at least let me put this on the drying rack." you didn't trust yourself not to drop the plate and immediately go wild on this man.
that got him to stop, and you quickly put the plate on the rack and dried your hands.
"okay, hermoso. what are you doing?" you faced him, and he immediately caged you in against the counter.
your back hit the curved ledge, and his arms were on either side of you.
"what were you doing?" he asked instead of answering, inching closer.
"what do you mean me?" you were trying to convince yourself that he didn't know what you were doing upstairs, and that instead he was tricking you into saying it.
he didn't reply, but used one of his hands to pull you in, your arms automatically wrapping around his neck.
you'd never get used to how soft his lips were, the routine bite he always does to your lips whenever you make out. but this time was different. there wasn't more passion, but there was another emotion in how he pulls you closer to him
you could feel his smile, and when you pulled away, he had the goofiest grin on his face. his hand trailed up your thigh, stopping right before it got where you wanted it.
"teo," you frowned at him.
"what? is there something you want?" he teased you, inching closer to your core.
you averted your eyes, finding sudden interest in the ceiling. a sudden force tilts your chin back to face him.
"i asked you a question," he cooed.
you looked up at him through hooded eyes, and decided what's the worst that can happen?
you leaned your hips forward and grinded against his waist, letting out one long moan. he quickly stopped you with a harsh grip on your hips.
"does that say enough?" you said cockily.
"you have to use your words, hermosa. maybe i'll reward you."
you were tired of waiting, squirming at how uncomfortable it was in your shorts. from what you could see, he was too with the tent in his pants.
"i need you. i want you so bad." you whimpered, locking eyes with him.
he thought about it.
"what do you want?" he asked, his fingers making their way to your waistband and slowly inching it down your thighs. it left shivers coursing throughout your entire body, even though you felt on fire.
"i just want you. i want you to fuck me until i can't think anymore." you started rambling before you felt a pressure at your entrance.
he slipped a finger inside and curled it, and you slumped forward and found purchase on his shoulders.
"holy fuck mateo," you breathily said. "a little warning?"
"not my fault you weren't paying attention," he chuckled as he inserted another finger.
you've never bothered to use more than two fingers, but when mateo does it, it feels. . . different. you knew that you would never be able to replicate the same feeling that he makes you feel.
you could hear the noises as he went faster, along with the noises steadily pouring out your mouth.
"wait, fuck. . . mateo," you started speaking only to be interrupted by him sliding his fingers out and holding them up.
"damn chica, you're wet as fuck."
you almost died of embarrassment right then and there, but before you knew it, mateo dived between your legs.
you whimpered at his warm breath making contact with your folds, and just how you dreamed of, mateo went straight to work.
"fuck! teo, it feels so good," he hummed in response to your praise, pulling your legs over his shoulders while keeping your legs spread.
you threw your head back, letting out the most pornographic moan you've ever heard as your hand shot to his hair.
little whimpers and moans filled the room as you began to grind against his mouth. usually you'd last a lot longer than this, but either because you had been waiting months for this moment or the fact that mateo was eating you out, you felt something in your stomach tighten.
"mateo, stop, please." you slurred out, trying to use your hand to push him away. but he wouldn't move. he wanted to feel you cum around his tongue, and he stood by that.
he made a little motion with his head, shaking it side to side, still eagerly lapping away at you.
"i wanna cum with you, please i want it so bad." you blurted out, and that caused him to stop. you whined at the sudden cold air. well, he couldn't exactly pass up that offer, huh? especially when you begged so nicely and deperately.
"you always know what to say, chica," he grinned as he began unbuckling his pants.
"well, i didn't know what to say for it to come to this." you didn't know a single word that could've cause this to happen. not that you were complaining, but you might need that word for future reference.
"me about to fuck you stupid? i wouldn't know what to say either," you heard his pants fall to the floor and he angled you on the counter for you to be comfortable.
"this alright babe?" he asked, looking into your eyes for a clear answer. you stared back, impatient.
"just hurry up and fuck me," you nodded.
"i could stop right now."
"you wouldn't dare," you narrowed your eyes and before he could respond, you slammed yourself onto his cock.
he let out a groan his hands making their way to the bottom of your thighs to lift you up. although the beginning was rough, he started off slow.
"you know how long i've wanted to do this to you?" he said while picking up speed. your hands instinctively went up to cover your mouth to muffle your moans, but he pulled them away and pinned your wrists behind your back.
you shook your head. he watched as you didn't know where to look, eyes darting everywhere. from his chest, to his eyes, all the way down to where he was currently destroying you. then you'd get embarrassed and look away to start the cycle all over again.
"hey princesa. eyes on me," he loved seeing you not know what to do. as obedient as you are, you immediately locked eyes with him. "good girl. always so good for me, hmm?"
you nearly came as soon as he said that, tightening around his thick cock.
"oh, you like that?" you knew he'd use this against you forever. but now wasn't the time for you to be worrying about that. in fact, you couldn't think at all. you were understanding what he was saying but couldn't form a single response.
"i asked you a question." he began slowing down as if you didn't answer, he'd stop entirely. and you didn't want that.
quickly you answered, "i- mm, i love it," you slurred out.
"what was that?" he went back to his ungodly pace, and it took you even longer to piece a sentence together, letting out a moan every single time he hit your g-spot. you could swear you saw a little bump in your stomach every time he was fully in.
"i fucking love it, teo," you whimpered out, every word emphasized by the slapping of his hips against the apex of your thighs.
he would've blushed at this, but considering that he had in fact, been waiting so long for this, he attempted to go even faster and harder.
you were borderline drooling, if it wasn't for mateo holding you, you'd be lying back as far as you could. you went to grab for his back, before you realized that your wrists were still in his grasp.
"need to touch you," you whined.
he contemplated for a moment before releasing his constraint on you, and while you went straight for his back, his hands went up your shirt. the cold feel against your burning skin made you jump.
he had been letting out little moans and whimpers, but you could tell he was getting close with how they increased in volume and he began rutting into you like his life depended on it.
your moans were quieted but his lips on yours, and you began to feel that telltale knot in your stomach. it was as if he noticed this, as he broke the kiss and asked, "are you gonna cum?"
if you weren't in this position getting fucked until you couldn't think, you would've said, "isn't it obvious, dumbass?" but considering the fact he had you drooling on his dick that probably wouldn't be the best response.
you hurriedly nodded, and you could see the beginning of a smirk on his face.
"c'mon hermosa, you can do it. come for me," he trailed off into a long moan as you creamed around him, feeling as mateo did one last hard thrust and buried his head in the crook of your neck to mask his sounds.
the two of you stayed still in silence, only hearing each other's heavy breaths.
"did you mess up my hair?" you asked, blowing away strands of hair from your face.
"i think if your hair was fine, it wouldn't be much of a good time," you closed your legs as soon as he slid out, feeling something hot drip out of you.
"well, i think that i need to take a nice long shower." you attempted to get off the counter as mateo put his pants back on, but he stopped you.
"let me carry you, mi princesa. don't need you tripping." he gestured to you slightly trembling thighs.
you closed your thighs tighter together in embarrassment, as if didn't just cum in you a few minutes ago. he laughed at this and went to pick you up bridal style.
"y'know, this was what i was talking about when we first met. how we could be doing something else instead of dancing."
"why the fuck did it take you so long then, hm?" you jokingly punched his chest.
"well, why did you have to search up how to ask?" he shot back.
you totally forgot you left your laptop on the bed. it was open enough for anyone that goes by to glance at it and see at least half of what was on the screen.
and he went into the room to change his clothes.
"oh, fuck you teo," you hmphed and crossed your arms.
"you just did," he winked.
I HAD TO REWRITE THIS THREE FUCKING TIMES BECAUSE TUMBLR DIDN'T SAVE. THREE. I ACTUALLY LOST IT.
also how tf do u talk about pussy. like do you say pussy? vagina? entrance? core? heat? THIS IS SO HARD. btw i was so embarrassed making this that some parts might not make sense or be repetitive. im sorry
Love your cypher fics, I read through all of them <3 esp ur sex pollen fic which i was wondering…could you do a version where cypher is the one affected by the pollen and reader has to help him out👀thank you!!
HEHEHE YES YES
What If? (Cypher x F!Reader)
Summary: “Desperate Measures” but Cypher is the one who gets hit by the pollen ;)
Pairing: Cypher x F!Reader
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 1875
Warnings: p in v sex, unsafe sex, vaginal fingering, creampie
Notes: I absolutely love writing desperate Cypher, it’s my favorite
A… plant?
A rather large one, too, like an overgrown venus flytrap, seated inside a pot that was unenclosed. Just as he prepared to take a step closer, determined to identify it, the plant reacted before he could. It opened its “mouth,” angling itself towards him, then released a burst of particles from its maw.
Cypher threw one arm over his face, letting out a stunned yelp as he fell back. A chair tipped over as he did so, and a moment later, he heard your hurried footsteps across the floor as you entered the room.
He turned to see you standing there, and his heart dropped. “Cover your mouth! Now!”
You covered your mouth, coughing as the pollen surrounded you in a cloud, then dissipated. “Shit,” you muttered. “What happened?”
Cypher didn’t answer, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you out of the room before shutting the door behind him. Out in the hall, he let out a cough, testing his lungs. The smell of the plant was overpowering, and his body was growing frighteningly warm. The feverish heat spread through him, burning under his clothes, and he could already feel himself starting to sweat.
No, he thought, panicked. No, it can’t be affecting me. My mask should have protected me.
He turned towards you hurriedly. “Are you okay? Did you breathe in any of—any of—”
His mouth felt numb all of a sudden, his throat drying and his vision blurring slightly as his eyes fell on you. You seemed to be fine; unaffected by the pollen. You were standing there, expression rife with concern, but all he could focus on was your lightly flushed face and your soft, plump lips. He looked you up and down, taking in the shape of you—your gorgeous curves, supple breasts emphasized by your tight shirt, your lovely hands reaching out for him—and his cock twitched to life in his pants. His legs buckled and he fell to his knees before you.
“Sokar,” he choked out. Fuck. He didn’t understand what was happening to him; all he knew was that he needed you.
Your eyes widened, and you dropped to his level, touching the sides of his mask tentatively. “What’s wrong?” you asked fearfully. “What is it? Do you—do you feel sick, or something?”
The moment he felt your hands on his face, Cypher thought he would pass out. He melted into your touch, groaning as his cock hardened even more. “I feel…” He reached for one of your wrists, taking your hand and running it over his covered mouth. “I need you,” he uttered. “ Habibti. ”
You gave him a stunned look, mouth falling open in bewilderment. “C-Cypher?”
He grunted, fighting to free himself from his coat, from some of the oppressive heat taking over him. Once he’d gotten it off, he tossed it aside, crawling closer to you. “My girl,” he rasped. “I-I need you. Right now.”
You inched back just a bit, blushing madly. “What—what are you talking about?” you asked meekly. “Did the plant do this to you? A-Are you okay?”
Oh, his sweet, caring girl, so shy, so worried about him. He wanted to ravage you.
Cypher pinned you to the floor, removing his mask and pulling up the protective layer over his mouth. “Let me have you, habibti, ” he murmured, aching with a violent need he’d never felt in his life. “Kiss me, please. I need you.”
Your lashes fluttered, your eyes darting back and forth from his own to his lips. “R-Right now?” you stammered. “Are you—but—what about the mission?”
A tiny voice in the back of his head seemed to know what you were talking about, but Cypher pushed it down, incapable of caring at the moment. He ran his hands up your sides, rubbing you through the thin material of your shirt. He wanted to rip your clothes off and feast on you.
“Please,” he breathed, brushing his lips over yours. He needed you like air, but he wouldn’t do anything without your permission. He couldn’t. “ Please. I’m sorry, I can’t—can’t take it—”
To his utter relief, you kissed him just then, and he was set ablaze. He drove his tongue into your mouth, tasting it, needing to claim every inch of it. He sucked on your lip and you moaned for him, sending more blood to his suffering cock. He moaned back as he ground himself between your legs, breaking off from the kiss to lick and bite along your jaw. Fuck, you were perfect, writhing beneath him and spilling soft whines into his ears. He wanted more, as much as you could give him, and he couldn’t resist slipping his hand under your pants, searching for your wet core.
Cypher found it quickly, moving your panties to the side with one finger, then slid it straight through your already-slick folds. You whimpered and squirmed as he burrowed as deep as he could, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck. “Cry for me, habibti, ” he coaxed, sucking on your pulse point. “I need this pretty cunt. I need it now. ”
“Oh God, Amir,” you whined, squeezing around his finger. “Please…”
You reached down, fumbling blindly with your belt, and Cypher was all too eager to help you. He withdrew his finger to unbuckle your belt and force your pants down, dragging your sodden panties along with them. He freed his cock, then, lining himself up, he hitched your thighs around his waist and guided his leaking head to your entrance.
When he plunged inside of you, you wailed, and for a second, he was afraid he’d hurt you. “Are you—o-okay?” he managed to ask, struggling to speak coherently with your pussy strangling him.
Your answering cry was so pitiful, he nearly came on the spot. “Yes,” you gasped, throwing your head back. “It’s just—hot. You’re—b-burning up—”
Cypher felt a sharp pang of guilt, lowering his head to nuzzle your cheek. “I-I’m sorry, dear,” he murmured. He rubbed his face against yours, overwhelmed with the need to be close to you, to feel you. “You’re being so good for me, my girl… I love you…”
You looked up at him in surprise, eyes glazed with lust, and let out a whimper, clawing at the front of his shirt. “Fuck—I-I love—love you too, Amir—”
“Sweetheart,” he groaned. “Please…” One hand still supporting himself, he used his free one to roll your shirt up your chest, exposing your bra. He reached underneath the fabric to cup your breast, rolling your nipple under his thumb, and you cried out loudly. Oh, your sounds were music to his ears. “That’s it, my love,” he cooed, kissing your collarbone. “You feel so good… so fucking good…”
Cypher trailed kisses down your skin, lavishing all the softest spots he knew you loved. When he reached your nipple, he did not hesitate to wrap his lips around it and suck, and the moan you released drove him wild. He’d never felt so desperate, so horribly, deliciously aroused, and he could barely last a minute longer.
He released your nipple with a wet pop, yanking a trail of saliva from it as he crashed his mouth into yours again. “ Ghzâla, ” he moaned into your mouth, kneading your breasts with greedy, unrestrained fingers. Blood pumping, ears ringing, he could hardly think at all; all he knew was that he was going to cum, and it was going to be inside of you. If he pulled out of you now, he thought he might die.
“ Amir, ” you whimpered, your soft hands on his chin, his cheeks. Your touch was electric, sending jolts of pleasure through him with even the lightest of caresses; it was intoxicating. “Please, fuck —”
Oh, he couldn’t take this. It was too fucking good. “ Sokar, ” he panted, ready to burst like a dam. “You’re mine. All mine.”
“Yes.” You nodded frantically. “A-Amir— please, oh—”
Cypher, in his ravenous state, had a filthy, dangerous thought. “Do you want my baby, habibti? ” he whispered, his voice a low growl. “Do you want me to fuck you full of my cum?”
He hadn’t known what to expect, but the way you whined for him sent him brought him right to his precipice. “Oh fuck,” you moaned out. “Yes, yes. G-Give me a baby, Amir, oh, please, please! ”
Just like that, you shoved him right over the edge. Cypher let out a guttural groan as his orgasm ripped through him, your pussy milking everything he had from him. He shuddered, and all of a sudden his body was cooling, that sickly heat dulling to the heat one might feel after an ordinary jog. He pulled himself out of you without thinking, slumping back onto his knees.
What… the fuck… just happened?
“Amir?”
Cypher blinked, allowing his vision to clear. You had sat up a little from where you were lying on the floor, shirt bunched up over your half-exposed chest and pants all the way down to your ankles. He shook his head, realizing with horror what he’d just done.
The plant. It could have only been the plant. It had possessed him, turned into some kind of animal, made him defile you on the floor of this facility—in the middle of a mission, no less. He couldn’t wrap his head around it.
“ Lhwa, ” he cursed silently. “Fuck, fuck. I’m so—so sorry.” He inched towards you, looking you over wildly. “Are you alright?” Had he hurt you, in his madness? There was a little bruising on your thighs where he’d gripped you, but other than that, he couldn’t seem to find anything serious. When he saw the clear fluid oozing from your swollen lips, however, his stomach turned.
He’d done that. He’d cum inside you.
“Amir.” Your voice brought him back to you. “I’m—I’m okay,” you reassured him, sitting up all the way. You reached into your pockets, searching for something, and it hit him. He found a scrap of fabric in the pocket of his coat and handed it to you without hesitation.
“For—for—that,” Cypher said, shame and regret threatening to eat him alive. “Sweetheart, I—it was—”
“The plant,” you finished for him, using the fabric to clean yourself as best as you could. “I-I know. It’s okay. Something came over you; I could tell.”
He was relieved to hear that you’d at least known, but it did nothing to take away his guilt. “I’m so sorry,” he uttered. “Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to—at a time like this, I—”
“I know.” You’d fixed your clothes, and were getting back on your feet. Extending a hand to him, you helped him up. “I promise I’m fine. What about you, though? How do you feel?”
Cypher stuffed his cock back into his pants, then hastily put his coat back on. “I-I’m alright,” he responded, a little shakily. “A bit disoriented, but… not feverish anymore.”
You gave him a smile of relief. “Good,” you said. “Listen, I—I know we need to talk about this, but we’ve gotta get back to the mission. Let’s keep moving, okay?”
There were hundreds of thoughts running through Cypher’s mind, so many things he wanted to say to you, but he knew you were right. He nodded. “Okay,” he said, reaching for his gun. “Right. Let’s go.”
Summary: On a mission with Cypher, an encounter with a strange plant threatens to get you both into trouble. (In short: Cypher sex pollen fic)
Pairing: Cypher x F!Reader
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 5,944
Warnings: sex pollen, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, unsafe sex, creampie
Notes: Reader is technically the same one from my “Fantasize” series, but you can still enjoy this one without having read those!
“You two, stick together,” Viper ordered, addressing you and Cypher. “Hang back and scout for traps. Phoenix and I will go on ahead.”
“Understood,” Cypher replied before exchanging a glance with you. You gave him a quick little smile, and his heart skipped a beat.
“Report your findings,” Viper added, then turned promptly and headed down the hall, Phoenix at her side.
Once they were out of sight, you turned to Cypher. “I wonder why she didn’t split us up,” you said.
“You’re still pretty new,” he conceded. “Viper doesn’t tolerate failure. It seems she’d prefer you partnered with someone.”
“Partnered, huh?” You giggled. “You think she knows about us?”
Cypher blushed, grateful you couldn’t see under his mask. “She definitely doesn’t,” he answered. “If she did, she would never leave us alone together.”
It had been a couple weeks since the night you’d both confessed to one another; the night that had changed everything. He’d finally let you into his heart, become one with you physically, and the two of you had tentatively agreed to a relationship. It was a relationship not yet fully defined, but a relationship nonetheless.
He wasn’t quite dating you—not exactly—but you’d been talking about it with him. If not for the constant missions and training, you two would have had more in-depth discussions on the subject. Such was the life of an agent; always needing more time.
Cypher wished he had more time for everything.
He had visited you privately twice since that night, and both times, he had given into his desires. Of course he wanted to talk, figure out what all of this meant for the both of you—what it meant for him—but once you batted those pretty eyelashes and put your soft hands on him, all he wanted to do was take you. And even after he did, it was never enough.
He’d never been like this. Sure, he’d been a teenager once, with a dirty mind and crushes on cute girls, but he was well into his thirties now, and so much had happened in his life, he hadn’t thought he even had it left in him. It’d been so long since he’d been physical with anyone; once he’d gotten that first taste of you, he hadn’t been able to get it off his mind. It kept him awake late at night, stroking his aching cock to thoughts of your sweet moans, your flushed skin and body wrapped around him. He wasn’t used to this. It was flustering. It was consuming.
But right now, it was okay. You didn’t seem unhappy; in fact, you seemed lighter than air most days. And, strange and new as this all was, he had been feeling that way, too. For the first time in years, he felt almost… excited about working, about missions. Before he’d told you his feelings, he’d been afraid it would make everything worse. But it seemed it had actually made everything better, even if it was just a little bit.
There was so much more you both still needed to figure out, but there was time. And as long as you two focused on your work, you’d be fine.
Cypher led the way down the dark hall, scanning the walls for cameras. “None out here,” he noted, keeping his voice low. There weren’t supposed to be any enemy operatives here, at least not on this level, but he could never be too safe. “Stay close.”
You nodded, keeping to his heels. “Do you think they’ll find any Radianite?” you asked quietly.
“They should,” he said. “If they find any, they’ll let us know.”
Once the first half of the hallway was thoroughly searched, the two of you ventured further. You stopped all of a sudden, pointing out one of the rooms. “Hold on, it’s a lab,” you said.
“A lab?” Cypher approached the door, which read: LAB A2. He peered through the hole at the top, finding it pitch-black inside. He checked his sensors. “No Radianite. No traps, either, it seems.”
You turned away, noting the other doors all down the hallway. “Looks like they’re all labs,” you murmured.
Cypher followed your gaze. Shining a light, he realized you were right; every door was marked with a different letter and number each: A1, A3, A4, A5. “This is supposed to be a research facility, but they didn’t say what kind it was,” he remarked. “They were researching something here, no doubt.”
“Why didn’t they tell us?” you asked, brows furrowed.
“I don’t know,” he answered. “But stay close to me. There could be anything in these labs.” A bomb. An alarm. A radivore.
He’d done research before the mission, looking into the facility, but much of it had been fruitless. This particular location had been designated a dead zone for some time now, until out of the blue, Radianite had been located in the lower levels of the facility. The mission had been last minute, with very little information given prior to the dispatch. Unusual.
If the retrieval had not been assigned by the people of Valorant themselves, he would have most certainly thought of it as a trap.
“Wait,” you said abruptly. “Do you… smell that?”
Cypher sniffed. Now that you’d mentioned it, there was a peculiar scent coming from nearby. Faint, but sharp, almost like an exotic flower. “Yes.”
“Is it poison?” you asked, voice hushed.
“No.” Cypher moved closer to the origin of the scent—the A5 lab. “I don’t think it is, but we must check. It could still be some kind of security measure for the facility.”
You nodded and followed.
As he approached the door, he noticed it had been left open ever so slightly. “Wait here,” he instructed. “Something’s not right. I’m going to look inside.”
“Are you sure?” You gave him a concerned look.
“Yes,” he assured you. “I’ll be fine. Just wait here, and don’t check the other rooms.”
“Okay,” you responded.
Gun in hand, Cypher slipped through the crack in the door, shining a light inside the dark room. It was indeed a lab, but not a deserted one; the equipment looked fresh and new, meticulously arranged alongside books and what looked to be small specimens inside jars.
He strained his eyes. What were those things? They were too tiny to be radivores, weren’t they? Even Gekko’s companions weren’t small enough to squeeze into those jars.
He moved the light slowly to the left, spotting the shape of something atop a table. It took him a second to register what it was.
A… plant?
A rather large one, too, like an overgrown venus flytrap, seated inside a pot that was unenclosed. Just as he prepared to take a step closer, determined to identify it, the plant reacted before he could. It opened its “mouth,” angling itself towards him, then released a burst of particles from its maw.
Cypher threw one arm over his face, letting out a stunned yelp as he fell back. A chair tipped over as he did so, and a moment later, he heard your hurried footsteps across the floor as you entered the room.
He turned to see you standing there, and his heart dropped. “Cover your mouth! Now!”
You covered your mouth, coughing as the pollen surrounded you in a cloud, then dissipated. “Shit,” you muttered. “What happened?”
Cypher didn’t answer, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you out of the room before shutting the door behind him. Out in the hall, he let out a cough, testing his lungs. The smell of the plant was overpowering around him, but there was nothing wrong with him; as far as he could tell, he hadn’t ingested anything. His mask’s defensive features had done their job after all.
He was quick to turn his attention back to you. “Are you okay? Did you breathe in any of that?”
You coughed again, hitting your chest. “I-I think so,” you said, rubbing your eye with one hand. “Shit, I’m so sorry, I just—I thought something had gotten you—”
“There was something,” he said. “A—a plant of some kind, but—but that doesn’t matter. Can you breathe? How do you feel?”
“I…” You went silent for a heartbeat, feeling yourself all over. You took in a deep breath, then released it. “I—I can breathe okay. I feel… I feel kind of—of warm…”
“Warm?” he echoed. That couldn’t be a good sign. If the plant was indeed there for security, no doubt it was meant to infect intruders, but perhaps the effects didn’t take place immediately. Perhaps the symptoms revealed themselves slowly, taking the form of some kind of fever as the infection spread.
He touched your forehead. Oh no—you were warm. Warmer than you were supposed to be.
You blinked, suddenly looking unsteady on your feet. Eyes unfocused, you reached out to him, putting your hands on his chest just as you started to fall. Cypher caught you, holding you upright. You looked up at him, your face much more flushed than before.
“Cypher,” you breathed.
Your tone of voice caught him off guard. Strangely, you didn’t sound like you were in any kind of pain. You sounded desperate, but… not in the way he’d been expecting. Maybe he was just imagining it, but it was unusually close to that voice you used when you needed him.
Needed him like that.
You leaned closer to him all of a sudden, lips parting as you gazed up at him. You ran your hands up the front of his coat, grasping at it. “Cypher,” you uttered, nearly moaning, “I-I need you. Right now.”
Cypher went stiff as a board. Oh shit. Maybe he hadn’t been imagining it. “W-What? What is it?”
“Please, I—” You pressed your body into him, rubbing yourself against him like a cat. “I’m so—s-so warm, I need you—”
What was going on? What had that plant done to you? “I-I don’t understand,” he sputtered. “Are you overheating?”
“Yes.” Your response this time was most certainly a moan, and it made his cock twitch in his pants. Your hands traveled further up, tugging on the collar of his coat. “I don’t know w-what’s—what’s happening to me, I just—n-need you—”
He stared at you, flabbergasted. He’d never seen or heard you like this. It was like you were on the verge of tears, like you would fall apart completely any moment. What was wrong? How was he supposed to help?
“What do you need?” he asked you, touching your face with one hand. Warm. So warm.
The softest of gasps left you when it made contact, your eyes widening. You leaned into his touch, rubbing your face into his palm. “You,” you moaned. “Need you to—to fuck me r-right now.”
Cypher stilled, arousal flooding through him. For a second, he didn’t question you, focusing only on the need in your voice and your warm cheek in his hand, but he snapped back to reality. “Wait, no—no, no, sweetheart,” he said hurriedly. “We—we can’t. Not here. What are you talking about?”
“It won’t stop,” you whimpered, pressing harder into his palm. “I’m sorry, I can’t—it’s so hot. Fuck me, just please fuck me.” You kissed his thumb, whining softly before taking his pointer finger into your mouth and sucking.
Oh, fuck. He cursed himself for being so hard, willing his blood to keep fueling his brain. This didn’t make any sense. The plant had done this to you? Why? Had the researchers bred it specifically to affect intruders this way?
Breaking free of his trance, he pulled his finger from your mouth. “No, please, dear, don’t do that,” he scolded gently. “Sit down, please. We need to cool you down.”
You grabbed hold of his coat with surprising ferocity. “No, please, just fuck me,” you begged. “I need to cum. I’m s-so wet, it won’t stop.”
Somehow, his cock got even harder at those words, but he forced himself to focus. “Sweetheart, I can’t right now,” he told you, more firmly this time. “It’s—it’s not safe here. We have a mission; we can’t—”
“Then just touch me,” you pleaded, cutting him off. “Just make me cum. Make it stop, please.”
Cypher hesitated. There was no time for this. If he stopped right now to take care of you, anything could happen. An alarm could be set off. An enemy could show up, alerted by the plant or a separate security system. This was the worst, worst time for something like this.
But he had to help you. You both had to finish this mission together, then regroup with Viper and Phoenix. Neither of you could do that if you were stuck here, unable to do anything until your needs were met.
He made his decision just as you started tugging at his belt, trying to unbuckle it. He pushed your hand away carefully, holding it in place by your wrist. “I’ll touch you,” he murmured. “Quickly. Then we have to keep moving.”
He could see the overwhelming relief in your eyes. You opened your mouth to say something, but he was already pulling you to one side of the hallway, bringing you into a little nook between the wall and the door to one of the labs. Not completely hidden, but it would have to do.
Cypher couldn’t help but be surprised by how quickly you yanked your pants down to your knees, taking your panties along with them. He could see your exposed pussy now, and the sight stunned him. You were unbearably swollen, your red-pink lips glistening and dripping, heavy slick trickling down your thighs. There was nothing normal about this, and he had to do something about it now.
He leaned you back, standing over you, then removed his glove on one hand and brought his finger to your opening, slipping it inside. The moment it entered, you let out a truly pitiful moan, and his blood shot straight to his cock once more. You were so soaked, there was no resistance in the slightest, his finger burrowing all the way down deep inside your searing heat.
“More,” you gasped, bucking your hips. “More, please, more.”
Cypher obliged you without question, adding a second finger and drawing another euphoric cry from you. You were so hot, your flesh practically burning his fingers, but he didn’t dare stop.
Louder moans poured from your mouth, mingling with the sloppy sounds from your cunt, and he hated how much it turned him on. He wasn’t supposed to like this. You weren’t acting like this of your own accord; it was the pollen making you act this way. He was only doing this to help you. “Hush, please, dear,” he coaxed. “Relax for me.”
“C-Can’t,” you responded feebly, body jerking wildly. “Feels—feels so good, fuck—”
He bit his lip, desperate to keep his head clear. This wasn’t normal; he was worried about you, but fuck, seeing you like this was dangerously arousing. If the mission were not such a priority right now, he’d crush you against the wall and fuck you until you saw stars.
But he couldn’t. This was all he could do with the time you two had.
“Cum for me, sokar,” Cypher cooed, massaging your clit with his thumb. He added a third finger, amazed at how easily it joined the others. “Cum for me, please.”
“Cypher,” you wailed, clawing at his shoulders. Oh, how badly he wanted to kiss those plump, wet lips.
He kept working you with his fingers. “Yes. Cum now. Cum now.”
You cried out one last time, long and loud, and he felt you clamp down on all three of his fingers suddenly, your flesh strangling them as you came. Slick oozed down his knuckles, hot and thick like syrup, and when your grip on him finally relaxed, he withdrew his fingers to find them coated. It was like he’d stuck them into a pot of clear honey. They even smelled sweet; flowery like that plant, enough to make his head spin.
Your legs wobbled, then you crumpled to your knees, panting. Wiping his hand on his pants, Cypher dropped low to clutch your face. You were flushed, but not nearly as much as before, and your temperature had lowered. “Are you okay?” he murmured. “How do you feel?”
It took you a second to come to, as if you’d just woken up from a dream, but when your vision cleared, the first expression you made was one of horror. “Oh God,” you uttered. “Oh fuck, I don’t—I don’t know what just happened. I’m so sorry.”
“The plant,” he said quickly. “It was all the plant, dear. It wasn’t your fault.”
“But—but the mission,” you stammered. “Oh fuck, I—I’m so sorry—”
“Never mind that,” he interrupted gently. “Are you okay? Are you back to normal?”
“I—” You touched your forehead, then patted down your upper body. “I—I think so. Just—wobbly.” You laughed weakly.
“Alright.” Cypher took your hand in his, helping you to your feet. “I’m sorry—I would check you more thoroughly, but we must keep moving.”
“I-It’s okay,” you said, pulling your pants back up. “Let’s go.”
The two of you moved onto the next hall, circling the entire floor and checking the rest of the rooms. No traps, and no more plants, as far as either of you could tell. Throughout the search, Cypher kept his eye on you, and to his relief, you no longer seemed afflicted by the pollen. Once the floor had been swept top to bottom, Cypher sent a comm to Viper. “No traps on this floor,” he reported. “Heading down now.”
A moment later: “Good. Keep your eyes out.”
“I always do,” he said simply.
He turned to find you looking at him. “You didn’t… tell her about the plant?” you asked softly.
“It’s not a priority right now,” he replied. “If they had encountered something similar down there, they would have told us. I may tell her later, if I must.”
You held your arms close to yourself. “Please don’t tell her about—about what happened to me.”
He shook his head. “I won’t,” he promised, meaning it. If this truly was resolved, Viper didn’t need to know. “But we must go now. I don’t trust this elevator; we’re taking the stairs.”
You gave him a quick nod of understanding, following him as he opened the door to the stairwell and began to descend.
Cypher was alert as you two made your way down, scanning the walls and ceiling for anything hidden. “Stay close,” he said. “Are you sure you can—”
He didn’t finish, turning around when he heard you stop abruptly. You were standing on one of the steps, holding onto the rail for support as you swayed from side to side. That glossy look had returned to your eyes, and your face had once again gone red and feverish. “Fuck,” you said, breathless. “I think—I-I think it’s—it’s back.”
His stomach twisted. No, no, please. Not again. Not now.
He went to you. “Sokar, I’m sorry, but we have to keep moving,” he urged. “Can you walk?”
You whimpered, tripping over yourself and grabbing onto him. “No,” you gasped out. “C-Can’t. Fuck me. Please fuck me.”
There his cock was again, hardening at the absolute worst time. He tried pushing you back gingerly, but you had an iron grip on his collar, and wouldn’t budge. “No, sweetheart. We can’t. There’s no time.”
“Please,” you begged, reaching for his mask. You felt around the edges of it, as if searching for a way to remove it. “Kiss me. Please, kiss me, kiss me. Need you.”
This boldness was so different from the usual you. It entranced him, nearly making him forget you were trying to take off his mask, but he managed to break free. “No,” he insisted, shaking your hands away. “No—I’m sorry, dear. We have to go. I’ll carry you if you can’t walk.”
“No!” you squealed, and the sharpness of it took him aback. “No. Fuck me right now, please! I need it.”
Cypher was utterly lost. He couldn’t be angry at you for this; you weren’t yourself. None of this was your fault, but right now, you were jeopardizing the mission. He wanted you, but he couldn’t help you—not right now. He had to go on. “Stay here,” he said firmly. “Relieve yourself. I’ll come back for you.”
“No, no!” you cried out, refusing to let go of him. There were tears in your eyes. “Don’t go. Please just make me cum. Cypher.”
You looked so desperate, so fucking helpless, and it ignited a fire in him. Before he could change his mind, he grabbed you by the waist and spun you around, forcing you up against the wall. Your squeal of surprise turned quickly into a moan when he ripped your pants down, exposing your pussy once again. Pale juices gushed down your thighs, and he’d never felt so hungry.
One hand keeping you in place, he tore his glove off the other, then shoved two fingers inside you, his thumb working your clit. You cried out like an animal in heat, and he pushed you harder into the wall, trying to muffle your noises. “Keep it down, sokar,” he warned, keeping his voice soft. “Just let me do this, please.”
You were hardly listening, filling the cramped stairwell with your fervid wails and moans. You were jerking so much, trying to impale yourself as hard as you could onto his fingers, it was almost impossible to keep you still. “Please,” you babbled. “Yes, please, please.”
Cypher had faced many challenges in his life. He’d fought all kinds of powerful threats. He’d gone up against his alternate selves more times than he could count. He’d braved death-sentencing traps and obstacle courses. But this—this was something else. No amount of training could have prepared him for this kind of situation. You were the one that needed help, and yet he felt completely, totally weak.
Maybe he wasn’t as strong as he’d thought.
Gritting his teeth, he wrenched his fingers from your cunt. You howled in protest, but he was already fumbling one-handed with the front of his pants, freeing his cock a second later.
He couldn’t take this anymore. He had to fuck you, enemies be damned. Maybe this time, he could fuck the pollen out of you for good.
He took you by the hips, gathering your slick around the head of his cock, then he drove himself into you.
The sound you let out when he entered was like nothing he’d ever heard. A series of high, keening moans poured from your lips, echoing inside the stairwell. Cypher gripped your waist, gasping at the scalding heat of your flesh around his cock. “Quiet, sweetheart,” he pleaded, half-choked. “Be quiet, please, be quiet.”
This was a terrible idea in every way. There could be enemies close by. Anyone could walk in. There was no time. He wasn’t wearing a condom.
But it felt so good, he couldn’t bring himself to care about any of those things.
Cypher held onto you for dear life, all his senses on fire as he pumped in and out of you. He’d never felt so close to you before; he could feel every inch of you, your silky, scorching walls pulsing and tightening around him. The sound of his skin slapping yours rang deliciously in his ears, and your writhing, rolling body was hot in his hands. This was madness. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to cum before you did—and it would take almost nothing.
Taking one hand, he reached down between your legs and found your clit, rubbing insistent circles into it. “Cum for me, zouina,” he breathed into your ear. “Come on.”
You threw your head back, drooling at the mouth. “Amir.”
Oh, fuck. If you said that again, he was definitely going to cum. “Call me Cypher, lovely,” he panted. “Just Cypher.”
“Cypher,” you moaned out. “Cypher, Cypher.”
Hearing his name like that still did things to him, but at least he could hold off a little longer. “Yes,” he whispered. “Good girl.”
His comm suddenly clicked. “Cypher, I need both of you down here. We’ve got company.”
Cypher’s heart jumped straight into his throat. Oh no. No no no no no.
Pulling you flush against him, he slapped his free hand over your mouth, his other hand still touching you fiercely. “O-Okay,” he answered, fighting to keep his voice steady. “Be there i-in one moment, Viper.”
“What’s going on? You sound out of breath.”
You started licking his palm, still moaning with abandon, but he did not remove his hand. Why, oh why was Viper calling now? “I-I’m fine,” he insisted. “We’re both fine. We’ll be right down.”
He heard gunshots on the other end. “Hurry up. We’re outnumbered.”
Relief flooded him when he heard the click. Cypher focused on you again, uncovering your mouth as he pushed you back against the wall. “We have to hurry,” he mumbled, quickening his pace. “They need us.”
You cried out, keeping your hands on the wall to support yourself. “Cypher,” you whined. “I’m close, please.”
“Good.” Giving into temptation, he smacked the side of your ass with one hand, marveling at the way your flesh moved. “Come on, now. Cum for me.”
“Love you,” you moaned with each thrust. “Love you, love you.”
He was getting dangerously close himself. “Come on, come on,” he pleaded. “I need you to cum, sweetheart. Please, for me.”
You arched your back into him. “Cum in me.”
“No, no,” he rasped, rubbing furiously at your clit. “Can’t. Sokar.”
“Please,” you begged. Your voice pitched higher. “Please, oh—I’m gonna—gonna cum—”
“That’s it,” he crooned. “Yes, now, now.”
You came around him violently, spilling cries into the air. “Amir,” you wailed, tightening on him with everything you had. “I love you—I love you, please, please—”
Cypher was a goner. He couldn’t even think about pulling out, grabbing your hips with both hands and shoving himself as deep as he could go. He shuddered, his groans turning to strangled whimpers as he filled you with ropes of hot cum. Something in the back of his mind was screaming for him to stop, but all he could think was how much he needed to feel you, fill you, make you his.
Fuck, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done this. So good, so good, so fucking good.
He dug his nails into your skin, not letting go until every drop of seed had been pumped deep within you. He stumbled back when he released you, legs shaking. As blood came rushing back to his brain, he saw you bent over, white fluid dripping down your thighs, and realized what he’d done.
He’d just cum inside you.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Cypher uttered, guilt tearing at him like thousands of claws. He hurried to inspect you, touching your hip lightly. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry—are you alright?”
You’d been hanging your head, breathing in and out raggedly as you collected yourself, but you were rising now, standing up to your full height and turning to face him. “I-I’m okay,” you answered. You sounded hoarse; no doubt it was from all the noise you’d been making. You looked flushed still, but from exertion now, not from the pollen. You blinked, then your eyes went huge with realization. “Shit. We have to go. Now.”
“I-I know. I know.” Cypher wiped his cock as best as he could, forcing it back into his pants as you rushed to clean yourself. He glanced between your legs, wincing at the mess he’d made. “Here,” he said, handing you a scrap of fabric from his pocket. “I-I’m sorry, I know it’s not much, but—”
“It’s fine.” You took it from him, giving him a brief smile before getting to work. “Thank you.”
“Sokar, I—” His throat was so dry. He knew how badly Viper needed you both, but he couldn’t think about that right now. He couldn’t go anywhere until his fears were put to rest. “I—I finished—inside you. Are you—are you sure—”
“Yes.” Your response came faster than expected. You wiped up the last of the fluids, fixing your clothes and tossing the fabric away. “I have an IUD. I’m safe.”
“Oh.” His heart sang with relief. Granted, it didn’t mean you were one-hundred percent protected, and it didn’t absolve him of any responsibility, but it was enough for now. “G-Good. Good.”
“There’s a lot we need to talk about, but let’s do it later, okay?” You grabbed your gun. “We’ve gotta go. Now.”
“R-Right. Right.” Cypher grabbed his own. “Let’s go.”
^ ^ ^
Some time later, Cypher found you in a secluded spot on the ship, sitting with your headphones in.
He waved to you as he approached, and you took your headphones off. “Hey,” you greeted him, smiling.
“Hi,” he returned, a little bashfully. He took a seat beside you. “How… are you feeling?”
“Better,” you replied. “Hasn’t… happened again. Thank God it didn’t happen back there, right?” You laughed.
He managed a chuckle, though he still wasn’t quite feeling humorous yet. The mission, while not having yielded any Radianite, had finished smoothly after all. “Right.” He waited a few moments, looking down at his hands in his lap, then murmured, “I… am sorry. For all of that.”
“For the plant?” you asked. “That wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know it was in there, and I shouldn’t’ve gone in like that.”
“Still, I—should have protected you better,” he insisted. “Done something.”
“You don’t have to protect me,” you said with a slight smile. “And you did do something. You… helped me when I needed it.”
Cypher blushed. “I—I am glad I was able to,” he mumbled. “But still, you—you don’t—deserve that.”
You touched his arm. “Cypher, I’m okay, really.”
He hesitated. He hadn’t said all he needed to say yet. “I… I know. I’m glad you are,” he said. “But I—I just want you to know that—you are more to me than that.”
Your eyes were distractingly pretty. “I know I am,” you reassured him, sounding confused that he had even said that. “There was nothing normal about this, okay? This was a one-time thing.”
Cypher nodded. He swallowed, working up his confidence. “Sokar,” he said softly, “I would—like to do something for you.”
You tilted your head curiously.
“Would you…” Why was this so hard? “Would you like to… have dinner with me? Sometime?”
The look on your face made his heart melt. “Yes!” you exclaimed, beaming. “Yes, yes, of—of course. I’d love that.”
His spirit soared. “G-Good,” he said, relieved and overjoyed at once. “I—I don’t know what our schedule is yet, but—I can let you know.”
“Yeah.” You were nodding, smiling from ear to ear. “Just tell me. When you find out.”
“Okay.” Cypher reached for your hand, taking it in his and squeezing. He wished he could take off his mask and kiss you right now. “May I… see you later?”
“Sure,” you answered, giving him a smile that was almost coy. “I… might need your help again. Who knows.”
His heart fluttered at that. “I—I see,” he said, clearing his throat. He let go of your hand, getting to his feet. “Well, I should—er—check in with the others. Let you get some rest.”
“Okay,” you said, still looking happy as a clam as he began to walk away. You put your headphones back on. “See you later, sokar.”
The nickname stopped him dead in his tracks. “Hm?” He turned to look at you, surprised. “S-Sokar? Is that what you called me?”
“Mhm,” was all you said, looking pleased with yourself.
“But—but that’s—that’s what I call you,” he stammered, realizing very quickly how silly he sounded. “I call you that.”
“Should I… call you something else, then?” you asked, grinning. “Zouin? Hobi?”
Lord, he hadn’t heard those words in so long, hearing you say them made his heart nearly give out. You’d learned them, somehow, and he guessed you’d been saving them to use them at the right time. He desperately tried to think of something to say; anything that would make him sound cool or suave and not at all flustered beyond belief. “You…” He wiggled his finger at you warningly. “You are a—bad girl.”
You laughed. “Talk to you later,” you said, blowing him a kiss.
He shook his head, half-grateful, half-disappointed that you couldn’t see his smile under his mask. As he made his way through the ship towards the cockpit, he ran into Phoenix.
“Cypher!” the young man greeted him with a grin. “Was lookin’ for you just now.”
“You were?” he asked. “Is something wrong?”
“No, no, nothing’s wrong.” Phoenix waved his hand. “Was just gonna ask you about earlier. Y’know.” He waggled his eyebrows.
Cypher crossed his arms. “Earlier?”
“Yeah.” Phoenix snickered. “When Viper called, you two were shaggin’, weren’t ya?”
Cypher stiffened, mortified. He knew enough about British slang to know what that meant. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, you can tell me!” Phoenix leaned in, fascinated. “We’re mates, aren’t we? Everybody knows about you two.”
Cypher stared at him. “W-What?” Was that true? Everyone knew? “What—do you mean? What about us?”
“That you’ve got a secret little relationship,” Phoenix responded, poking Cypher’s shoulder. “It’s super cute, actually. It was pretty obvious she fancied you, so it seems like you both hit it off.”
Cypher sputtered, searching for a way to gain control of the situation. “Everyone knows?” he asked quietly.
“Well, not everyone,” Phoenix admitted. “Just the people who notice. Viper doesn’t know. But she might soon.”
Cypher looked around. Viper wasn’t nearby; fortunately, she was likely in the cockpit. He sighed heavily. “Fine, yes, we have been—seeing each other,” he finally confessed, keeping his voice down. “It’s—it’s very casual.”
“So you were shaggin’ back there!” Phoenix said, eyes gleaming.
“Lower your voice!” Cypher hissed. “It’s not like that. There was—something wrong with her, and I had to help. It was not ideal, and I would not have done it if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”
Phoenix chortled. “Couldn’t wait ‘til you got back to the base, could you, mate?”
Cypher snarled under his mask. “It’s the truth, believe it or not,” he growled. “Don’t tell anyone about this. Especially Viper.”
“I wasn’t gonna, I promise!” Phoenix insisted. “I was just curious, that’s all. You know me. I won’t tell anybody.”
Phoenix wasn’t exactly known for his ability to keep secrets, but Cypher relaxed nonetheless. “Good,” he said. “You know what I can do if you don’t keep your word.”
Phoenix threw his hands up. “I know, mate, I know. Lips are sealed.”
Cypher gave him one last nod, then moved past him. “I’ll see you when we land.”
So it seemed many agents did know about you both. As uneasy as it made him—knowing people knew anything about him at all—it was something he could deal with. He had to learn to live with it if he was going to be anything real with you. And he wanted to be.
But this—what happened during the mission—would have to be another closely-guarded secret. For his sake, but especially yours.
Secrets, secrets, secrets. What was one more for him to keep?
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Alright, can I just... Say something? Can we talk about the erasure of non-Eastern asians in fanfics? I'm not kidding, they're actively erased.
When fanfic writers are describing asian readers it's always distinctly eastern asian traits. Small noses. V shaped faces. Pale skin?? Those are all HEAVILY tied with japan and korea EXCLUSIVELY. Chinese, Iranian, Indian and Indonesian people don't identify with these traits. At all.
You don't get to say "reader is asian" and then give the reader distinctly eastern asian features. You're not only saying you view all asians looking like the japan/korea standard of beauty, but that japan and korea are the only ones who come to mind.
SMAUs especially. I like the aesthetic photos y'all post for instagrams. It's cute. But something that really ticks me off is when you say "here's what reader looks like for reference!" And then this is it
Like. You're targeting an EXTREMELY specific group of Asians. Chinese people arent gonna look and go wow this looks like me! Indonesians aren't. Filipinos aren't.
If you're gonna cater to only Japanese/Korean readers then say so. I'm tired of opening up a fanfic and seeing only the beauty standard and traits of those two ethnicities.
I don't have a v shaped face. I have a square and strong jaw. Not all asians have a v shaped face.
I'm not pale. Not all asians are pale.
And yes, you describing only Japanese and Korean features as the sole asian look is actively erasing other asian ethnicities. You're not doing it on purpose, but youre setting the standard that that's what a majority of Asians look like. It's not.
If your fanfic caters only to the looks of japanese and korean people just say so at the start instead of leading a bunch of people on.
you know since trolls are still finding this post and im still having to block them
if the first girl in the photo is Chinese, id appreciate a source. I pulled both photos from the same fic actually where reader is asian but then is described with being Korean (family is Korean, lives in Korean community, reader speaks Korean. this was on a haikyuu pic)
I didn't word this the best since it's from 3 (4?) years ago, but my point still stands. you CANNOT claim to be Asian friendly then target a specific asian group. just tag it as Korean or whatever ur focusing on! there is NOTHING wrong with that. just be transparent!
if you feel offended by this post or feel the need to defend authors doing this, please take a moment to reflect on yourself. have you ever read something thinking that it includes you an asian, then find out halfway through its not just asian, its a specific group? You should figure out why you feel offended someone is calling out for more transparency for the sake of inclusivity.
I will keep blocking trolls who interact with this post.
Suzanne Collins really has the protocol down. On average twice a decade she writes a press release that's like "in one year there will be a new book and in two years there will be a movie based on said book. Here is the one philosopher I'll be referencing, and here is what upset me this time on the news enough to write another book. Enjoy!" and then she collects her millions, drops another banger, and doesn't go on twitter ever
I can't believe I need to explain this, but Suzanne Collins is the author of the celebrated "Hunger Games" series, who very famously refuses to comment publicly on any current events, and prefers to let her writing speak to her views. Susan Collins is a Republican senator from Maine who's been an outspoken supporter of Israel and its genocide in Palestine. They are two separate people.
the tumblrina is, by nature, unemployed in spirit — even when trapped in her place of employment, encumbered with obligations, she disregards them, firing off mediocre posts across all subject matters at great speed. thus posting is revealed not as a ritualistic-spiritual practice, as theorised by historians in previous eras, with less access to source material, but rather as the (strikingly contemporary!) 21st century laborer's attempt to break free of the shakles of alienation, even if only for a moment. even a zero note post is fifteen minutes not spent on admin, as some of the primary sources remark.
Sorry to return like this bro but I turned 21 like two months ago I cannot in good faith write about a minor 🙏 sorry bro but I hope your ask got answered somewhere else in the three years it took me to start figuring my life out
Android Companion AU for all your Android Companion needs.
YOU. I LOVE YOU. I WILL WRITE YOU ANYTHING TO TJE BEST OF MY ABILITY. (Read it to the tune of: KENDRIIIICK DROP ANOTHER DISS TRACK AND MY LIFE IS YOURS)
Sorry to return from the dead like this but I require assistance in finding a fanfiction/head canon post.
All I remember is it was a final fantasy 15 post and it was an android au? I remember it had Noctis being Noct1.5, a malfunctioning droid with high independence. I remember it having ignis being a broken down office bot(?) but reader finds him in the dumpster and fixes him up and they like live together???
I tried google search and idk if it’s just been zapped or what but any help is appreciated 🙏
Pairing: AMAB! Sloan Cameron x fem! Reader (reader uses fem pronouns + has a pussy)
Genre: smut/NSFW
Word Count: 4.6k
Summary: Sloan is in for much more than they bargained for when they find a statue with magical properties—and you might be the only one who can help them out
CW: porn with plot, AMAB! Venture, sex pollen (but it’s a magical sex statue), dubcon, masturbation, showering, dirty thoughts (abt reader), slight voyeurism, blowjob, hair pulling, face fucking, cum swallowing, cock riding, mating press, multiple orgasms, protected AND unprotected sex, doggy style, multiple rounds, overstim, lots of cum, (think that's everything) use of the word shaft (im so sorry i hate this word but there’s only so many synonyms for dick)
yes the title is a pun ^.^ i meant to post this way earlier in the day but i got distracted and didn't end up finishing til tonight and it came out WAY LONGER than i thought. this is fr the longest smut ive ever written. anyway venture whores hope you all enjoy <3 if you guys have more ideas for venture or overwatch, send them here, i'd love to do some writing this week
It must’ve been Sloan’s lucky day. After barely an hour of searching, the glittering artifact they’d been looking for seemed to jump right out. Though the dusty gold colour blended in with the shimmering sand of the cavern, the three pink gems of the small statuette seemed to call to them.
The figure was cold to the touch and buttery, barely bigger than the size of their hand. It was shaped like a beautiful curvy woman, with full breasts accentuated with the pink stones and a thick tummy—the likeness of some old, forgotten deity that Sloan could never remember the name of.
They took out a soft piece of cut cloth and wrapped the statue before tucking it in their pack and beginning the short trek to the surface. Sloan buzzed the whole way up, that warm tingling washing over them. The kind they always felt when they found a new artifact, or when you laughed at one of their dumb jokes.
As the surface came into view, the golden sunshine just beginning to dip below the horizon, the warmth grew stronger. It had been a hot day, and it seemed that though the sun was setting, the heat had not yet begun to dissipate. They took a long pause, letting themself rest on the rocks outside of the cave.
Wiping the sweat away from their forehead, they took a big drink from the canteen of water they’d brought along with them. It was a short trek, they weren’t usually this sweaty and parched from something so basic—but with the warmth of the day at its peak, they shrugged it off.
The car they’d taken was only just down the trail, maybe ten minutes away. With one last sip of their cold water, they tucked it into their pack and started the walk back. The sky was turning pink as they set off, but slowly turned to purple and then the rich black of night.
Despite the day’s end, the heat only grew more unbearable with the walk. Their thighs cramped as they made their way down the trail, their heart beginning to race. Whatever, they tried to ignore it and power through to the car.
Sweat coated Sloan’s forehead and chest by the time they made it to their vehicle. Their hair was slicked to the back of their neck, and the t-shirt they’d been wearing was rendered near see-thru.
“Jeez,” they sighed, tugging off their t-shirt.
They tossed the sweaty fabric into their backseat along with their pack before sliding in the front seat to drive. They kept the AC on full blast the whole trip back home, though it did little to stop the boiling in their blood.
Sloan was just pulling off the highway when a gasp forced its way out at the sudden tight feeling in their pants. They risked a glance down to their hard cock now straining against the thick fabric of their carharts. They shook it off, turning onto their street and trying to ignore the feeling of the bulge in their pants only growing with each minute.
It was almost painfully hard by the time they made it home. Sloan almost forgot their pack in the back of the car in their race to get inside and free their aching cock from the fabric that confined it.
A sigh ghosted their lips when their cock sprung free from their boxers and they wrapped their sweaty palm around it. Their core was near sweltering, their cock throbbing in need.
With a glance at the door to make sure it was locked behind them, Sloan spat in their hand and started to spread it across their aching cock. A shiver crawled its way up their spine, acting as a brief reprieve from the heat that threatened to consume them. They clamped a hand over their mouth and began to slide their hand up their length.
With barely a touch, they were already so sensitive. Pre cum dripped down the tip, pooling across their fingertips and mixing with the saliva already spread over their skin. They squeezed harder, dragging their hand up and down faster. Their muffled moans vibrated against the clammy skin of their palm, their eyes falling shut as their hand fell into a rhythm.
Thoughts of you filled their head. Thoughts of your smile, of your warm skin, of pinning you to the bed and using you however they pleased. Sloan gasped, opening their eyes as they came into their palm.
Fuck. Cum rolled across their fingers, down their still hard cock and collected into the hair at the base of their pubic bone. They smeared the remainder of the cum on their thighs, shaking off the aftershocks of their orgasm and deciding a cold shower would solve both the mess they made, and the throb between their legs.
With their clean hand, they dragged their backpack with them all the way to their bedroom, tossing it in the corner before grabbing a towel and heading into the bathroom. They didn’t wait for the water to warm before stripping and stepping beneath the brisk stream.
The cool water settled the burning beneath their skin—but only just barely. Much to Sloan’s dismay, it also did nothing to soothe the ache between their legs. It was almost embarrassing, having an unrelenting boner for no reason like they were in school again.
They sighed, squeezing some coconut scented body wash into their hand and slicking across their cock. They didn’t bother to change the water back to warm, instead opting to let the frigid stream drip down their back. The nice smelling soap felt much, much better than their own spit—but they could imagine a few things that would feel even better.
Like your pretty lips wrapped around their tip, those kind eyes of yours pleading at them to cum in your mouth and—Sloan moaned, fingers clenching around their hard length. Just the thought of you touching them, or them touching you, was enough to have Sloan gasping and furiously jerking their cock.
Drops of soap flew away from their palm with every stroke, splattering the tile of the shower in front of them. God, wouldn’t they love to do that to you. What they wouldn’t give to do that to you. To have you lay down in front of them, completely at their mercy while they fucked you relentlessly and left you covered in their cum.
Their cock twitched, and then they were cumming. Wave after wave of hot cum burst out, coating the tile in front of them before being washed away by the water. Hard, shaking breaths wracked their chest as their senses returned to them and they could once again feel the cool water against their tanned skin.
As they looked at the cum mixing with the water down the drain, all they could think was ‘what a waste.’
It only took ten minutes after their shower for the tingling in their cock to become unbearable again. The heat had returned almost immediately—and with a vengeance—but they’d managed to ignore the tenderness between their legs for only ten minutes.
Sloan was glad they didn’t bother putting their clothes back on as they settled into their bed and grasped their shaft once more. Cumming once or twice a day was normal for them, but this was something else entirely. Something had to be wrong.
Sloan pushed away their fears and started once again stroking their dick, leftover water and precum acting as a lubricant for their hand to easily slide around. They closed their eyes, and let themself think of you once more.
How their cum would look running down your thighs, or splattered on your back. How nice your hands would feel gripping their cock, how you’d just beg them to fuck you.
Sweat dripped down their chest, wetting their tummy and the dark hair at the base of their cock. How long had they been jerking off this time? They risked a teary eyed glance at the screen of their phone—had it really been almost twenty minutes since they laid down in bed?
Twenty minutes and they were no closer to coming, but their dick was growing uncomfortably hard. A sigh passed through their lips. Their hand wasn’t enough, they needed something more, something hotter.
Their mind went to you, pleasure hazed thoughts wondering if they called you, would you come? Would you help them? Before they could think it through, their fingers were dancing across the screen. Just the sight of the tiny contact picture of you at the top of their screen had them squeezing tighter, thick drips of pre cum rolling down their tip.
Sloan lets themself fall back into bed, their mind dancing away to thoughts of you sinking down on their cock. They roll their head to the side, their eyes catching sight of the bag they’d carelessly tossed in the corner just before their shower.
Could the statue have done this? There were myths surrounding it, sure, but this? The thought was preposterous a week ago. Now though, with their insatiable lust, the thought doesn’t seem so crazy to Sloan.
Shit. They shouldn’t drag you into this. If it really is the statue, they don’t want to expose you to this. They reach for their phone to ask you not to come, to send you away, but just as their palm reaches the cold metal, the front door clicks open.
“Sloan?” You call, peaking your head in the front door. As soon as you’d gotten their message, you’d left your house. You’re talking more to yourself than them at this point, tiptoeing through the dark of their home. “I used the spare key you gave me to get in…are you here?”
Sloan bit their lip at the sound of your voice, risking a glance to the bag that contained the statue. Maybe inviting you here wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
“In here!” they call. Their voice is raspy, dripping with the need radiating from their core.
You follow the sound of their voice to the closed door of their bedroom, warm light leaking out from the cracks. It’s Sloan, and they don’t sound like they’re in danger, but something about their voice…
You push open the door. It takes two seconds for you to scan the room, two seconds for your eyes to fall on Sloan—sweaty, writhing and desperately jerking their cock in bed—and two seconds for you to turn away, covering your eyes.
“Shit,” you gasp. “I–I didn’t mean to walk in on you.”
But it’s strange. They called you here to help them, they knew you were going to come into their room—was this what they needed your help with? You couldn’t help but clench your legs at the thought, a heat rushing to your core.
Sloan’s voice cut through the darkness of your hand. “I-it’s okay,” they say. “You can look.”
You slowly peel your hand away from your eyes. Though they covered themself with a blanket, you could still see the glistening skin of their chest, and the up-down motion of their hand beneath the fabric.
Sloan knows it’s shameless of them to keep stroking their cock while talking to you, while you’re right there watching—but they can’t stop. Now that you’re here in front of them, the pressure’s increased tenfold.
You squint. “What’s going on?”
“I found that statue.” They keep jerking off.
“And?”
“The rumors about it were true.”
“Fuck,” you curse.
When they’d been telling you about the myths behind the statue, you’d both laughed it off, stealing wanton glances at each other as you did. They’d assured you it wasn’t possible, that there was no scientific reason a statue would bear unto its users an insatiable appetite for sex.
Seeing them now, though, all sweaty and desperate, has you thinking they were wrong.
“Sloan,” you say calmly, stepping in the room and gently shutting the door behind you, “what can I do to help?”
They bite your lip, and it’s just now that you notice their eyes are almost completely black in lust. A shiver runs up your spine.
They pull back the blanket. “Touch me,” they swallow. “Please.”
You glance at their thick, throbbing cock dripping in precum. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted, wrapped up in the worst possible way. It wouldn’t be right—they’re clearly not thinking straight.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Sloan’s not sure whether it’s the statue, or their frustration, or some terrible combination of the two that prompts them to say, “oh don’t tell me you haven’t been wanting me to fuck you for months.”
Their brazenness sends another wave of heat to your core, your underwear suddenly feeling wetter than usual. “Sloan,” you say carefully.
“If you’re worried about consent,” they rasp. “I want it. All the time. For months, too. I think about it nonstop.”
Their words ease your nerves, and you find yourself approaching their bedside. Your eyes stayed glued to their cock and the hand furiously stroking it. “What do you think about?”
They watch you, dedicating each pump of their length to you. “I think about you while I fuck myself. I think about—about fucking you, and having you bounce on my cock and—god.”
You sink down on the bed next to them, wrapping your hand around the one rubbing their dick. “Let me.”
They slide their hand away, letting you take over. Already, your hand feels a million times better than theirs ever did, the ache in their core finally beginning to relent. They lay their head back, watching your hand glide across their sticky skin.
They suck in a breath. “Fuck,” they look at you through their lashes. “Use your mouth.”
You’re taken aback by their command. Their cock looks so inviting, dripping wet and throbbing in your palm. It’s bigger than anything you’ve ever had which only makes you want it more.
You look them in the eyes while you lick a bead of precum away from the tip. Sloan shivers, wrapping a hand in your hair and pulling you down. You gasp as you take their cock into your mouth, wrapping your lips around it. It’s salty, a mix of sweat and precum, with a strange undertone of coconut—but it’s just how you imagined it.
Your jaw strains to take them into your mouth, their tip hitting the back of your throat after only a few seconds. You gag slightly, but Sloan only pushes your hand down further, groaning at the warmth of your mouth. This was exactly what they needed.
As soon as you start to see black spots, they pull you off. A strand of drool connects your lips to their length, dripping and coating your chin. They hum at the sight of you, so filthy already.
“Do you like how it tastes?”
You’re so flustered, so bewildered by the situation that you can only nod, clenching the base of their cock. You put your lips back on their tip and eagerly slide down for more. Their calloused fingers still tug at your hair, using the strands like reins to push and pull you how they see fit.
Sloan watches you intently the whole time, admiring the spit that coats your mouth and the way your throat bulges when they pull you a certain way. They’ve dreamt about fucking you for months now, but none of their wildest dreams could ever compare to this.
Despite the way your eyes water, Sloan pulls you down further. You look so fucking cute choking on their thick cock—they can’t help it. When you finally slap a hand against their thigh, they let go of your head and watch you gasp for air.
“Get on your knees,” they command.
You can only nod, not trusting your voice with the way your throat burns. The dominance in them only makes you wetter, a noticeable throbbing rushing through your clit. You’re all too eager to settle on your knees at their bedside.
They cup your chin, swiping their thumb across your lips to smear your drool and their pre across them. “So cute,” they murmur.
You lean back in to take their cock once more, but they tsk at you. Just as you tilt your head in confusion, you watch as Sloan grips their cock and rubs the messy, wet tip across your mouth. They smear it all across your face, making a mess all over your cheeks and nose.
A whine slips from your lips before you can stop it, but Sloan only laughs at it and finally lets their cock slap against your mouth. You open wide and take them once more, rolling your tongue over their length.
“So eager,” they tease, their fingers resuming their position in your hair, “if I’d known you’d be such a slut for me, I would’ve fucked you months ago.”
Sloan watches the shame glimmer in your eyes, followed by pure pleasure, and doesn’t miss the way you rock your hips against the floor.
It only takes a few minutes of you on your knees before they’re coming, pushing your head down so you have no choice but to swallow their cum. Your eyes shoot wide as the hot cum spills in your mouth, pulling back from their cock and opening your mouth so they can see it.
“Good girl,” they purr. “Now swallow.”
You nod and obey without a second thought, licking their cock a few more times after to clean up the excess. “Sloan,” you say quietly, your voice raspy from the way they just fucked your throat.
“Hm?”
“Do you have condoms?”
They tap the nightstand that you’re sitting next to. “You wanna fuck me?”
You pass them the condom, eagerly waiting as they lay back in bed and roll it over their cock. Though they’re slow to put it on, you don’t miss the way their hands shake in anticipation.
Sloan watches you the whole time as you strip, discarding your clothes as quickly as you can. You climb onto the bed and straddle their waist, a knee on either side of their hips. Their hands clench your waist tightly, fingertips digging in hard enough to bruise.
Usually Sloan would be happy to let you adjust, but with the warmth of your pussy right there, they can’t wait any longer. Using your hips as leverage, they thrust up into you, the tip of their cock bottoming out against your cervix.
You cry out, burying your head against their sticky chest. “Sloan,” you whine.
“Sorry,” they pant, but continue thrusting into you.
You relax into them, slamming your hips into theirs to meet their rhythm. It’s painful at first, both the stretch of their cock and how deep it reaches—but it’s amazing, too.
Sloan barely thinks as they pound in and out of you, using your own body weight as leverage to get their cock deeper and deeper with each thrust. Your whines are like music to their ears, complemented by the rhythm of matching groans they loose every time their cock brushes your cervix.
You cum so hard you swear you go blind for a second. Everything is hot, your vision goes white, and all you can focus on is the way your cunt is gushing around their cock, juices coating their thighs. You go limp on their chest for a minute, letting them fuck you like a toy while you recover.
Sloan’s own orgasm isn’t far behind, their cock twitching as they spill into the condom—though they’d much rather spill into you. They almost draw blood with how tightly their nails dig into your sides, and the only word they seem to remember is your name.
Even though they’re unbearably hot and their cock is so sensitive it hurts, they still need more.
“Can I keep going? Tell me I can keep going.”
You’re exhausted from the brutal pace they’ve set, but their cock fills you so well and they sound so desperate, you have no choice but to say yes. Upon your agreement, Sloan is flipping you onto the mattress beneath them and bending your legs to your chest.
They can get deeper like this, and Sloan knows it too. They start their pace off slower this time, trying to give you time to recover before their own need takes over. They hold your hands, pinning them above your head while they fuck you.
Their eyes lock with yours as they increase the pace, the tip of their cock hitting that spot inside of you perfectly every time. There are tears in your eyes from the pleasure, but it only makes them harder.
“Too deep,” you whine, squeezing their hands with as much strength as you can muster.
“You don’t love having me fill you up?” They mumble into your ear, “if I can’t stuff you with my cum, I’ll fill you with my cock.”
You gasp and squeeze your eyes shut, their dirty words sending you over the edge. You try to clench your knees together but Sloan’s body is in the way. They fuck you through your orgasm, squeezing your hands back with every bit of pressure you squeeze theirs with.
“That’s it,” though their words are soft, they punctuate each one with a thrust, “cum on my cock.”
They slide their hands down your body, resting on your hips once more. Their thrusts start to get sloppy, and you know they can’t last much longer like this. You reach up, desperate for something—anything—to ground yourself, your fingers coming in contact with their hair.
Sloan whines and cums in one sloppy motion, resting their head on your neck while they lazily thrust through their high. Soft groans and whines vibrate against your collarbone.
It takes a minute for them to collect their strength again, pulling their cock out of you. You look at them through tear blurred vision, eyes widening at the cum soaked condom dripping into the wild tangle of hair at the base of their length. There’s a ring of white around their cock from it all, and the only thought crossing your mind is how badly you want to lick it off.
Sloan can’t decide whether to admire the sheer amount of cum filling the condom, or be disappointed that they weren’t able to fuck it into you instead. They pull it off of their cock and toss it onto the floor—it’ll be a pain to clean later, but they don’t care. They reach into their nightstand for another one, but your hand wraps around their wrist first.
“You’re still hard?”
As if in reply, their cock twitches against your leg. Though the searing heat has finally begun to fade, the pure need coursing through their veins has not.
“You’re done already?” They counter.
“N-no,” you say quickly, though your pussy feels unbearably sensitive in the cold room. “But you don’t need to use that.”
They look down at the purple wrapper in their hand, then back up at you. Their eyes practically glitter in anticipation. “Raw?”
You nod shyly, reaching out your arms to beckon them back to you. You’ll never be able to match their insatiable pace—you know that—but you told them you’d help, even if it means letting them use you like a fleshlight.
They plant a kiss to the base of your throat, a devilish twinkle in the dark of their eyes. “Roll onto your knees.”
With their help, you roll onto your stomach and pull your knees up, arching your back to give them access to your dripping cunt. Too tired to keep your chest up, you rest your cheek against the single pillow in their bed and let yourself relax.
Sloan’s hands retrace the marks they left on your lips earlier, positioning you perfectly to line up with their cock. They land a harsh slap to your cunt with the head of their cock and slip it in all at once, relishing in the gasp that leaves your lips.
They rock their hips into yours, reaching up to tangle a hand in your hair. With one hand gripping your hips and another in your hair, they piston into you. You bite your lip to try and cover the onslaught of moans they fuck out of you and pray that Sloan doesn’t have neighbors—although at this point, they’ve probably heard enough.
“Feels even better raw,” they groan, balls slapping against your clit with a particularly brutal thrust. “S’like it was made for me.”
The burning in the pit of your stomach grows at their dirty words, your pussy utterly gushing around their length. Without the condom, you can feel the desperate throbbing of their cock, feel every twitch of their tip when they bottom out inside of you. They reach everywhere inside you, rubbing places you didn’t even know you had.
Waves of pleasure roll over you, each more intense after the last. Your pussy flutters around Sloan’s cock, but their pace doesn’t slow. They keep slamming into you, lewd slapping noises loud enough to cover your desperate moans. They tug your hair hard, pulling you closer, and roll their hips against yours.
Their cockhead brushes your cervix and your eyes roll back in the sharp pleasure that travels through your pussy. Drool leaks from the side of your mouth and your moans transform from fully formed words to stupid sounding babbles.
Sloan releases your hair from their grip and moves their hand to massage your ass. “Sounds so cute when you whine,” they coo breathily.
Your senses all come flooding back to you when you feel the first spurt of their hot cum inside of you. Your tummy flutters with butterflies, your pussy contracts, and you cum with them. Both of you writhe in bed against each other, Sloan’s desperate, near primal pants like music to your ears.
“Fuck,” you groan as you collapse into the bed.
They keep their cock inside of you, shallowly thrusting their cum back in. “Please don’t stop,” they whine. “Please, I-I need more. Please.”
Your whole body burns, your pussy is so sensitive you’re not sure you’d even be able to cum again. “Sloan,” you sigh, looking back at them.
“Please. Please let me keep using you. Please. You don’t even have to do anything but please let me use this pussy,” they pinch your clit in emphasis. “Please.”
“Well, with begging like that,” you joke.
Sloan wastes no time slamming their cock back inside of you, and though you can hardly feel the harsh slapping motion, you can tell their pace has slowed. You lay there, sweaty and hot and with their cum dripping out and being fucked back in.
Sloan murmurs praises to you while they thrust, their mind half gone from how fucking horny they are. They can see cum dripping down your pussy, down your thighs and it’s so filthy and it’s so hot and all they want is more. They pound into you, chasing that final high they may or may not get, desperately gripping your sensitive skin until there’s marks.
Finally, they cum again, their hot cum gushing until you’re so full it starts to burst from the seams between your pussy and their cock. Sloan watches it leak out in a trance, as if in disbelief that not only did they fuck you, they also just fucked you raw.
The heat has completely faded from their body, and as they pull out from your cunt and watch the cum drip, their cock finally starts to soften. “Are you okay?”
You manage a weak thumbs up from where you lay in the bed.
Just as they go to put on their pants, their cock twitches again, and the heat comes rushing back. Sloan sighs, looking at you guiltily, “think you can do a round 2?”
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for better or for worse I am back :( I also have an ao3 and I think im going to cross post stuff there too, mostly just cause I've noticed its a LOT easier to keep track of your reading on ao3 than Tumblr!
This a Master post of different Native American reservations and peoples needing assistance this winter due to weather emergencies, my links are from the Minnesota Public Radio News, especially a reporter and digital producer for the outlet, Sam Strooza.
The MPR News article about thousands being trapped on Pine Ridge Reservation and ways to help get people winter clothing and firewood. Condition right now are dire with reports of people trapped in their homes and needing to burn clothes for heat.
Indigenous tribes in South Dakota are fighting for their lives after 30 inches of snow and severe wind blocked roads. Here are some ways you
Friends of Pine Ridge is doing a drive of both quilt/blankets/comforters and also heaters, they have links to stores where you can buy blankets that will give them to the reservation and links where you can donate money to help people buy propane, fire wood or other immediate needs
Pine Ridge Reservation is experiencing extreme cold weather right now and First Families Now has reached out with an urgent need for blanket
Friend of Pine Ridge works very closely and supports First Families Now that works to support children, elders and families on the Pine Ridge Reservation and you can donate directly to them below
Our Mission is to improve the quality of life for families and thereby improve the vibrancy of the communities of the Pine Ridge Indian Rese
One Spirit Lakota does a lot of work supporting the citizens on Pine Ridge Reservation and supporting the Lakota people in both firewood supplies for the winter and supporting in the youth in the Allen community around the reservation and more.
Any donation right now will be used for emergency services and supplies such as firewood, and food and other things for supporting people in need.
Donate — One Spirit
Sićangu Co typically works to provide housing, food, education, health and addressing systematic issues regarding those concerns but given the twenty feet piles of snow and emergency situation their donations right now are shifted to meet current need of clearing the snow, filing and distribution of drinking water, and donations will also be used to feed their personnel including snow plow drivers, delivery drivers, other volunteers as well as those in need.
We are in desperate need of help, especially with -50 wind chills on the way
The Rosebud Sioux Tribe official website also has link for donating directly to their disaster relief fund related to the blizzard.
We are in desperate need of help, especially with -50 wind chills on the way
Also for clarity especially for people not from the Americas, while my main sources are from Minnesota Public Radio News, Rosebud and Pine Ridge are in South Dakota
This is a link to donate to Re-member that works to support the Oglala Lakota people and improve the quality of life on Pine Ridge Reservation they have multiple donation options from their winter heating fund to donating items directly
Donate money, goods, or time to Re-Member and help Pine Ridge Reservation.