The Love and Deepspace Boys Trying to Get You to Sleep ⋆｡°✩
Tags: Fluff, teasing, needy boys, mild sexual content, gender neutral reader (I had to re-write so please let me know if I messed up.)
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───
Xavier is surprisingly softer than you expected when you first met him on your mission together. He’s an incredibly powerful hunter but possesses a quiet and gentle, almost oblivious, aura when navigating everyday life, like a ghost floating through the space he takes up. It should also be understood that this very nature of his makes him affectionate, so much so, that he won’t unwrap his arms around your waist and stop pressing his head to your shoulder as you sit at the kitchen bar, typing on your laptop.
“Are you planning on staying up later than the stars?” he mumbles.
There’s a gentle yawn against your skin from the sluggish man, highlighting just how long he’s been trying to coax you into going to bed.
“I wanted to finish this report for work.”
“The report will be there tomorrow,” he says. You swat away his hand that reaches for the power button on the laptop causing him to pout. He grumbles. “You should go to bed. Otherwise, I can’t sleep.”
Smiling to yourself, you decide to tease him. “Oh, so you’re really trying to get me to go to bed for your own benefit?”
“Well, you can’t very well expect me to do it by myself anymore.” Xavier nuzzles his head into the slope of your neck, cuddling you. “It’s your responsibility since you ruined my sleeping habits.”
“Ruined?”
“Ramshackled,” he repeats quietly, causing you to giggle. With an airy sigh, he presses his weight into you more. “How do you expect me to sleep when I can’t hold you?”
Defeated, you save your work and close the laptop. You swivel in your chair, enough to meet his eye, and cup a hand to his cheek. It never stops being endearing to you how he cutely closes his eyes and angles his head to snuggle your palm.
“Alright, alright, you don’t have to beg.”
His eyes flutter open, and the smile on his face grows as he wraps his fingers around yours. Carefully, he pulls on your hand to bring it up enough to begin to lace your wrist with affectionate kisses, tracing your pulse.
“I thought you enjoyed my begging.”
“That’s different.”
“It isn’t,” Xavier mutters into your skin, pressing another light kiss.
“It is.”
“So, you're resolute about that position?” he questions “innocently”. There’s something mischievous about the glint in those arctic eyes, which makes your face warm. You find yourself breaking eye contact, or else you’d lose it.
“Yes.”
Xavier chuckles then begins to lead his kisses down your arm. “In that case, care to explain the difference in detail, love?”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───
“Sleep.”
“But—”
“Sleep.”
Zayne narrows his eyes at you from his side of the bed. You can’t blame him for being a little annoyed right now but the movie you put on to fall asleep was much better than you expected; and instead of falling asleep, you were more awake than ever at a very late one in the morning.
“I’m almost done with the movie,” you tell him, hoping he’ll cut you a little slack this one time.
“Everyone dies at the end of their own stupidity,” he bluntly states and grabs the remote. The television turns off with an overly loud click, and you pout. “Now, sleep.”
Crossing your arms over your chest, you huff. “You’re the worst.”
“I’m fine with that title if it gets you to rest,” he explains with a smooth yawn. “Poor sleep habits lead to bad decision-making later. You’re more likely to develop high blood pressure, and with your heart in particular—”
“I get it. I get it,” you say, wanting to be spared the lecture. Zayne is a good person and a better doctor, but you wish he didn’t worry about you so much just because you might have a little big heart problem. Sighing, you squiggle onto your back and pull the sheets up to your collar, kicking them a little childishly in the process (totally not to let him know that you were not pleased with his spoiling). “I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
“Very.”
Zayne turns over onto his side, away from you, and you frown at the loneliness. Softly, you poke him in the back, once, then twice then a third time before you finally get a hum in response.
“Am I really not getting a good night kiss?”
“Do you need one to sleep?” he asks, his voice deeper from the lack of sleep, urging you to convince him to kiss you even more.
“Duh,” you explain. Slowly, he turns back over to look at you, propping himself up on one arm with a look that says “Is that so” as you continue to ramble. It makes you a little flustered when he watches you so intently. He’s always had this silent dominance that makes you obedient, but you could get what you want from him just as easily with the exact opposite strategy. Cutely, you puff your bottom lip out at him. “There has to be some health benefit to it. Kissing makes people all happy. Happy is good, right?”
It takes a second for him to take in what you say, those smokey eyes closing in on you with thought before he climbs over you. He places both hands at your sides and quickly boxes in your upper thighs with his knees.
“You’re thinking of dopamine,” he says.
“Huh?”
“That makes you “all happy”,” he explains and presses a deep kiss to your lips, leaving you thoughtless and breathless all at once. He moves to your jaw, and you begin to squirm from the pressure of his impassioned lips.
“And Serotonin.”
Another kiss, lower.
“Oxytocin.”
He’s at your shoulder when he starts to nip your skin, and one of his hands moves to ski up the back of your thigh.
“Reduced cortisol.”
Flustered, you grip his arms.
“Zayne, stop, it tickles,” you whine, but it’s the last thing you actually want as he readjusts his position and hovers above you.
His usually neat hair is messier and his breathing a little heavier judging by how his chest laboriously rises and falls. Groaning, you bite your bottom lip as he knowingly leans in and whispers,
“You need it to help you sleep, isn’t that what you said?”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───
“Why don’t you just say you don’t love me anymore?”
You look up from your phone screen at the sudden accusation. You’re resting on the couch, your back propped up by the armrest and legs splayed out on the other cushion while Rafayel looks down at you with crossed arms and a less-than-pleased scowl on his face. You’re entirely confused as to what you could’ve done to make him think something like that.
“Huh?”
“You’ve been playing video games for what—the last two hours?” he says, uncrossing his arms to grab your phone. It’s too late to warn him as he glances at the screen, clicking a few times. “What are you playing anyway? An…otome? Sheesh, go ahead and say you want me gone. Come on, tell me you actually hate me.”
Holding in your smile, you shake your head and affectionately roll your eyes. It takes an enormous amount of effort to not laugh as he continues to rant. “So, it’s one of those things. I thought I was actually in trouble.”
And by those things, you mean his dramatics.
“Hush, my complaints are perfectly legitimate,” he demands as he pushes your legs aside and sits on the couch. Leaning over, he flashes the screen at you to show the evidence he has that you’re completely unfair, unfaithful, and downright mean. “What’s this game giving you that I’m not? Are my dashing good looks and even better personality not enough? Is that it?”
Gently, you take the phone from his hand and set it down on the end table. “You’re plenty, perfect even.”
He scoffs and refuses to look at you. “Apparently not. Don’t you ever think about anyone else? What if I want to cuddle with you one day but you’re too busy to notice because you’re playing silly games?”
Ah, there it is. His real want. You never know why he can never just come out and say it.
“Rafayel, do you want me to come to bed and cuddle with you?”
“Want is a strong word,” he remarks but you can see his resolve (can you call it that when he planned to give in all along?) crumbling as he slowly turns back to meet your gaze, “but I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Not that you deserve it or care.”
Humming, you sit up, wrap your arms around his shoulders, and pull him down onto you. Lovingly, you snuggle him, stopping to only take in how red his neck and ears start to get when you squeeze him and start to stroke through his hair. You’re not sure if Lumerians can blow happy bubbles like he claims, but he definitely hums and relaxes his entire body weight to lay on top of you like he wants to sink into your skin.
Teasingly, you coo at him. “You’re so needy.”
“I’d rather say you humans aren’t needy enough,” he fires back as he wraps an arm around your waist and kisses the corner of your lips. “Ah, the sweet taste of victory.”
Giving out a gentle and short laugh, you lightly tap his back. “Go to sleep.”
hiii! wanted to give a little more to you guys since i really only got dirty in my first pieces with half of the assets, and wanna give a little sampler that i'm here for the whole haul. not to mention that it's been a hot second since i indulged this kink in particular, so i hope this reaches its target audience, lmao <3
NSFW | Word Count: 2,346 ( ~ 500 per excerpt) | The Prime Assets x GN Reader
contains SOMNOPHILIA/DUBCON, voyeurism, masturbation, dirty talk, wet dreams, fluff, making out, mentions of both penetration and scissoring, cunnilingus (receiving), mild degradation, the nipple fixation is gender neutral in these here parts, groping, subjects of poly in the kress section, fingering, turn back now if you're not ready to read about the neckussy because i am going there
⚖️
Woken by a knee in your side, you felt the wolf of a man that you were sharing the bed with settle his leg on top of your stomach. Taking in a breath to turn against him, busy hands were making the covers move, and you wondered if the officer was lost somewhere beneath them. Opening your eyes, you propped an arm under your head and almost spoke his name, but then saw the only one with their eyes open was you.
He grumbled again, head rolled back like the headboard was Jesus himself and his hand working away as though he may start asking for forgiveness. At first, you were recognizing the motions; and had been sure he had woken up before you, trying to get himself going so he could give you a real wake up call. As you shifted slightly to lift your head and fully prop on one side, a noise rose from his loose-jawed mouth akin to a snore. A smile crept over your face to fathom that the tables were actually turned on him.
You took the course you were originally setting on, inching over to spoon one side of him and careful to not block his progress. “Cops are out tonight, huh?” You whispered, nearly nipping the crook of his neck and getting an embittered murmur back.
“Aw, sweetness.” His words became vaguely coherent after a couple more grunts, and it only made you reward him with a kiss against his throat.
“Officer Coyle-“ You whispered back, “You gonna discipline some of those commies tonight?”
“Mmmmh – "
"Make 'em scream?"
"Mmhm.” He groaned, head twitching but still far away as he huffed out an exhale. His hand was merely toying with his dick now, and your own slid up his stomach to feel another flex of the muscles as you egged him on, “Go on, then. Discipline that whore, officer.”
He gasped, and you kissed along the column of his neck as he started pumping again. “Such a good cop,” You added, his own poison thrown in his face. He sucked in a breath and spoke clearly again.
“Gonna tear that fuckin’ [shirt/skirt] offa you, beautiful. Rub [all that blood and tears I’m gonna make/all that makeup on your pretty face] all over the fuckin’ walls, too. G-Gonna make you scream, then tear you a new asshole, then I’ll-“ He was breathing heavily, and finally giving a solid bite against his neck made him suddenly seize.
“Awh-!” His head lifted, and you pushed away from him with an awestruck grin as he let go of himself, looking at his dripping hand before glaring at you with fully opened eyes.
“Toyin’ with me?” He muttered groggily, and when you giggled in answer he rolled over to pin you against the mattress, snickering at the way you squealed between both the weight and his release pressing against your body. He didn’t care; just as much as he didn’t care that he was breathing his morning breath all over your face as he stole some kisses from the opportunity of an open mouth.
“Show you what happens when y’play with a loaded gun.”
🪿
She might as well had told you the doors to Murkoff had become open to the public when you realized she was coming to bed without the puppet.
Being the plaything of Miss Futterman was accepting the warped reality that her father was always going to be there, griping over both of your shoulders and threatening to bite and obliterate you with the drill for the heinous crime of looking at his daughter with anything but contempt. In a choking compromise, you welcomed the puppet to earn that other hand cupping your jaw, and the set of lips belonging to that harmonious voice when it wasn’t breathing life into the goose placed to your mouth, forgetting about the second personality if only for a fleeting moment.
Seeing her just for her was exhilarating, quickly playing into her explanation that “Daddy needs his private time, a glass of gin and the television on in the other room”. You smiled at the thought of a limp puppet sitting in front of what televised noise you picked up from the half-open door, but nodded as she then asked while crawling into bed with you, “It’s rather nice for us to be alone for a change, isn’t it?”
Merely grinning, you nodded at her as you got close, pressing your chest against hers causing you to stutter at her, “P-Phyllis, I want to…I want to just say I really appreciate this quality time. Not that I don’t love Dr. Futterman, I just-“
She interrupted you with a thumb over your upper lip, your eyes wide to look at her again as she nodded along, “Yes, I know. As much as I love my dear old dad, it’s nice to get to feel like…like a woman when she gets the chance to be all by herself.” Her eyes shone in a familiar, dark manner as she lowered her voice, "There's only so much that Mother can do for herself without a little help, with just one hand..."
When she released your mouth, her thumb ran down the other lip to hold your chin, rubbing it in a gentle motion as you asked in a whimpering voice, “How can I help?”
She goaded you, “Help with what, [Y/N]?”
The slip of your hand against her chest, head between her legs as her voice flittered over you. [Cock sliding in with a slippery noise followed by you trying not to melt completely against her/Patiently pushing your cunt against hers, touching in a way you couldn't describe other than feeling like you were seeing God himself and he was striking you with lightning from his self-made "walking thunder cloud"].
You couldn't even begin to enunciate any of that, so you stammered out, hoping she'd know, “Help you feel like a woman?”
She gasped slightly, then leaned in to kiss. The roll of her lipstick against your mouth made you hum like a hungry stray as you put your hands on either side of her jaw, holding her face like glass. You felt like you were going to crack the moment if you didn't cherish it, get her speaking with that growling voice again if you made one reference too many, feel the absence of her father for a breath too empty between the two of you.
Shivering, she took notice despite your efforts, and the other “hand” being her device that Dr. Futterman usually sat on – empty, going up your torso to settle on the bottom of one shoulder blade, served as assurance.
“Sweet, silly [boy/girl/lamb]. You already do.” She cooed as she broke away for a moment, giggling when she got a look at your face. “Oh dear, we’re making quite the mess with all my makeup still on!”
“It’s okay!” You quickly assured her, grinning wide as you imagined the matching smear of deep red against your lips and cheeks. “I like it when you make me a mess.”
She froze, then broke into giggling as her arms roped around your shoulders. "Oh, [Y/N], you're too precious!"
🦷
“Christ, I can’t believe you couldn’t wait until I woke up. Fucking brat.”
Praise alongside that sudden jab made him hum thinly [around your cock/against your pussy], an extra bout of drool making you shake underneath his mouth as he gripped your thighs on either side of his head like it’d be taken away from him. To imagine the spot underneath the two of you after he was done was making you keen harder, both from shame and from the pride that you made a mess out of such a “tough” guy.
You flexed your back against the bed, eyes screwing shut as another [experienced suck, nearly muscle memory for him at this point/drag from the flat of his tongue against the soft inner walls] made your knees tremble as a surge of pleasure stirred you fully, feet bracing under you as you felt the blankets under your palms. Your head rolled back as the world around you fell out of focus, a hand wandering to gently tug and stroke through a tuft of blonde hair you could blindly find, which only spurred the continuous moaning, making his hands squeeze and release in a wanting rhythm along with the sucking.
No teeth. Ghosting over a sore spot on your chest, you wished he showed the same care to when his mouth was other places, but decided that could be for another place, another time.
He released his mouth, but wasted no time crawling up your body. You let him kiss you with the same fever, holding your head up and neck bracing with the force of his front teeth colliding against yours. The real spot he wanted to show attention to was revealed as his hands followed him, sliding gently up your sides and stopping at your chest, taking the skin underneath captive.
Remaining focused on his mouth, he pulled at the top of the tank top you slept on for a silent cue. When you didn't oblige, too focused on your own taste against his tongue, he pulled off and had to break the quiet with a whine.
“Come on,” He immediately began to demand, “I did all that work, and for what? For you to hold out on me?”
“Hold out?” You looked from the corner of your eye at him, and he nodded against your cheek, eyelashes brushing up against your face. “Oh yeah,” He pressed his erection against your leg in a needing motion, “You know what baby wants.” He seethed, making you turn to kiss him again, feel the roll of his voice into your mouth in another demur.
Sighing deeply and realizing you weren’t getting out of it without a fuss, your hand went to hold the back of his neck as your eyes fell downcast. The other one fumbled to pull the straps of the tank top down one shoulder [and unclasp your bra from its hooks at the front].
At the all familiar motion, you felt the hand on your wrist; not preventing or gripping you, but guiding with gentle taps. Almost as if he was pushing them out of the way to make room for his, especially after the clothing could be discarded as you rolled it off your body. You had what he wanted, a squeeze to your bare [pec/breast] making you inhale sharply.
“Oh, what? Don’t start cryin’ now. We haven’t even gotten started.” He teased, but he seemed to fold again when you smiled surely at that, then felt him curl up against you.
It was like any air between your bodies was a crime. Rather, like it was a law that he needed to break. Naturally.
🐂
“I’m sorry if this is a silly question.” You started, speaking to a dim room and uncertainty either of them were still awake. You were immediately scolded from a set of voices, albeit they had been merely half awake.
“No need, [Y/N]. I believe we’ve been over this.”
“You don’t have to apologize for every question or concern you have. There's nothing wrong with being curious.” Arora’s arm came down from where you were settled beside the twins, a hand on your head as she then crooned, “Your curiosity is…rather refreshing to us more than it ever is annoying.”
“A natural need to know, to understand despite what you’re expected to be…disgusted by? Leaving judgement at the door before you enter new territory?” Otto mused, “It’s welcome here, just as you are.”
You fawned at that, but then went on, “What I want to know is if I were to touch you here-“ You leaned back slightly, fingers wandering up the side of Otto’s neck to the reaction it had immediately pulled out of Arora, the hand on your head now curling against your scalp in a taut pull. Wincing and looking over at Otto again, you asked with a breathy croon, “Would you feel it, too, Otto?”
“…Were you not able to sleep?” He asked instead, and you merely shrugged at that.
At first, it had been a very jarring thing to catch in passing when you first met them. Eyes often diverted it because you knew if you started to stare at certain details about the Kress twins, you wouldn't be able to stop. Not out of horror, at least not after the first few ganders of them.
It was natural to be put off at first, you acknowledged, but the glancing turned more into admiration. Especially after the three of you began having conversations in passing, business in your proper lives bringing you two crossing paths more than once liked.
Then came the nights spent in their private quarters, listening to them share the mountains of knowledge and gossip of the world that you otherwise would never get a lick of, and before long you had gotten used to seeing it.
Being someone they eventually took more than a friendly liking to, taking to bed like a prized pet to be of service, you now grew rather enamored with the anatomy that you discovered. Especially considering you often slept against Otto’s back, depending on where your chin settled…if it was over his shoulder, you were practically staring right at the entrance upon waking up.
“I feel…” Otto’s arm had been draped over the small of your back, but he quickly let it falter down and gripped your thigh as he ruminated, your hand still teasing the entrance of Arora's cunt with a wondering eye. “I feel it like a distant reflex, well and knowing she’s aroused by it. If that serves you well to know.” You hummed thoughtfully again, and then grinned.
“Well, what I'm learning is that a third set of hands is actually necessary for the two of you.” You whispered, looking to Otto first and then up at Arora as she shivered a reply, “If they're a skilled pair, of course.”
APHSY. ❤︎ .ᐟ
⠀ ⠀╰ ❝ Such a greedy kitten— wanting not just one, but two of me. ❞
⠀⠀ Happy Valentine's day ! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ i am honestly so very flustered so I have not much 2 say ;; I am just gonna post this here and then go <3 Sending much love to my beloved ren (sayrenka) for always drawing the yummiest sex comms for me ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱⸒⸒
⠀⠀ [ uncensored ver ]
It’s not obvious from the entrance, but Family Video has a curtained-off 18+ section in the corner of the store.
It isn’t looked at a lot because most people are prudes in Hawkins, in Steve’s opinion.
He’s usually chasing curious kids out of there more often than he’s helping someone rent out whatever porn gets them off while they’re desperately avoiding eye contact with him.
Not that he wants to look at them.
But, what he does want to look at is the security camera footage on the computer, specifically of that section, especially when Billy Hargrove is perusing the shelves.
Keith’s told him about the handful of times he’d had to threaten to call the cops on guys who try to jerk off in the small room, and he hasn’t caught anyone yet, and Steve’s kept a mindful watch on it.
Like now, when he’s watching Billy adjust his dick through his jeans and his hand lingers there for a moment too long. Steve tells himself that he’s only watching so he knows when to…to…
In the grainy footage, he can see Billy take a tape off one of the shelves and his hand is rubbing the length of his cock through the denim, slow and steady, so obvious.
He and Billy are…friendly. Enough. There’s a tension that’s always been there, since that night they first met at Tina’s, but now it’s like a pot threatening to boil over.
Licking his lips, he wonders if Billy makes a habit of this — of jerking off in public.
Of being watched as he does it.
He’s, for once, glad that Robin called in sick and he’s the only one working. Maybe that’s why Billy’s being so ballsy.
No pun intended.
His mouth goes dry as he leans into the computer screen, watching as Billy begins to unzip his pants, his hand disappearing into it despite how tight they are.
Holy shit.
He can feel himself chubbing up in his jeans as he watches Billy pull out his dick and spit into his palm before wrapping it around his cock again, giving it a couple slow strokes as he picks up another tape and flips it over to look at the images on the back.
Billy’s gotta know, right? The camera isn’t exactly subtle, sitting in the top corner of the tiny room.
He’s only a couple feet away, around the corner.
He hears Billy’s poorly concealed moan and it makes him go hot all over.
His heart races in his chest as he watches Billy tilt his head back, his hand moving up and down his cock at a steady pace now, his eyes closed as he gets lost in the pleasure.
His stomach flips as he watches Billy’s eyes open, half-lidded, and then he winks at the camera.
At Steve.
His cock jumps in his jeans and okay, that’s it.
He stops the camera and rushes to the door, locking it and flipping the sign to ‘CLOSED’ before heading straight to the curtain around the corner, pushing it aside and walking in.
The sound of Billy’s delighted laugh echos through the store before Steve smothers it with a kiss.
Wing-it TF for Leon
The issue with pairing single drinkers up into couples is that there might be an odd one left out. Better to take eeveeryone who didn't come with a partner, and put them all in one big polycule!
tasm who got sprayed with an aphrodisiac, so he goes to his roommate and fucks her well into the morning 🤭🤭🤭
A/N this deviated a bit but i needed to spread the munch agenda…hope you can forgive me friend…..
peter enters the apartment like a hurricane, his shaking body and heaving breaths impossible to ignore.
“peter?” you ask, eyes wide with concern. “what’s wrong?”
he doesn’t answer at first as he looks at you. of course you’d be wearing tiny pajama shorts right now, when he has no control of where his eyes land. he’s trying hard to catch his breath, his hands clenching into fists. he brushes the hair curled with sweat off his forehead and forces himself to look you in the eyes, raising his head higher. he anchors himself on your kitchen counter behind him. “aphrodisiac.” he breathed. “came home for my research.” he gulped, pushing himself to his bedroom, still evidently woozy. “gotta be an antidote.” he started to sway to the side, and you moved on instinct for him to fall in your arms.
“easy.” you drawled, arms shaking with his weight. you’ve never seen him in this state before. “where’s the antidote? do we have it?” you try to keep your voice level, but the urgency escapes your tongue in droves.
he shakes his head, looking up at you. his brown eyes have been blown even darker, the pupil completely swallowing his irises. “lab. somewhere. gotta go.” he pushes off of you, but you grab his shaking hand.
“there is no way in hell i’m letting you leave here like this.” you took a deep breath, knowing the ethics of this are dubious at best, since you’ve been attracted to him since the day he moved in and he is technically drugged. he’s obviously in pain, and you can’t let him go out alone all the way to the lab to get the antidote. you don’t even know if he’d survive. “look. it’s an aphrodisiac. i….” you closed your eyes before you continued. “if it will take the pain away, you could….take it out on me.” you swallowed, trying to put it gently.
peter looks at you in shock, managing to push himself off the ground all the way. “you mean it?” he asks, looking straight at your lips. “because it would…” his voice trails off, cracking.
“yes.” you grab his shoulders. “i mean it”
peter immediately grabs your face with his large hands and pulls you into him, his lips sliding against yours in an anxious release. you didn’t imagine your first kiss going like this, but it doesn’t count, right? as soon as he gets a bit of control of himself, though, he slows down a little, capturing you in a breath-sucking kiss, both of you breaking away for air twice. “are you sure?” he asks again, his voice a low rasp this time. you nod and he urges you to jump, carrying you with a kiss into his bedroom.
he lays you on the bed as gently as he can, and you immediately make work of sliding off your shorts and underwear. he’s so obvious with his staring, it’s adorable. “can i?” his eyes wander down and he asks again in that low rasp. “please?”
the way he said please sent a shiver down your spine. “yeah.” you answered breathlessly. “what do you want?”
“my face buried in your thighs.” he responds instantly, with the cadence of a casual conversation for something so brazen. you stifle a gasp and nod. he wastes no time gripping your thighs and hooking them on his shoulders. “you’re fucking dripping, baby.” he remarks as he starts to explore with his fingers. “this for me? you like seeing me worked up?” he almost whispers.
“i think so.” you manage to get out in between gasps from his fingers brushing against your clit. “do…do that more.”
“this?” he asks, rubbing his thumb in circles. “you like that, baby?” you squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back with a stifled moan as your answer, and he grins. he takes this opportunity to start putting his mouth to work, his tongue lapping crudely as his thumb resumes pressing all of your nerves. the way he’s sucking and licking is filthy, the wet noises, his hums of delight and your cries of pleasure create a cacophony of pornography. you buck your hips against his face, pulling him closer lightly by his hair and when he groans you feel it inside of you. you whine, arching your back and he has to pin your hips down with a hand. he pulls his face away for a second, his mouth glistening with a smirk. “now who can’t control themselves?”
“shut up.” you whined in embarrassment, grabbing his hair and pulling him back down. he breathed a laugh against your clit, and you squirmed as much as you could in his hold. you’re not gonna last. he hummed and spoke into you, “yes ma’am.” and you knew you were done for.
“peter?” you whimper in between heavy breaths. “gonna cum.”
“yeah, baby?” he pulls his face away a bit, still keeping his thumb in position, only switching it to take your clit between his lips. “go on. cum for me.”
that’s all it took for you to release all over his chin with a weak little cry, your voice hoarse and breathless. you try to catch your breath, laying your head back on his pillow. “alright…” you breathed. “just give me a second…and you could…we could-“
“-about that.” he interrupted you. “i….i already did?” he says in a question, almost like he’s embarrassed, stark contrast to what his tone was minutes ago. “the effects wore off. let’s just leave it at that…” he trailed off, coughing. you prop yourself up on your elbows.
“did…did you…” you look down. “cum in your suit just from eating me out?”
he takes a deep breath, looking at you up and down. “maybe.”
you fall back with a giggle, and he immediately gets defensive. “what?”
“nothing.” you shake your head, the blood rushing to your face. “just so fucking hot.”
