Ok I know itâs been a hot minute but on the âcommonly seen as super dom when notâ thing might I point out Tony. Like yes heâs big and cocky and talks a big game with a delicious voice but he is a service top at BEST! Maybe a little rough but he kinda forgets his own strength in the moment. Like just going off his âseminarâ deal of prioritizing your partners preference/pleasure alone hello?? Tony will not make you ask for anything much less beg or work for it! He doesnât want control, he just wants to give give GIVE without ever taking unless it benefits you!
You just know Tony will live between your thighs and devour you for hours if you let him! Until youâre fighting to push him away from your over sensitive clit without any thought of his own arousal. It wouldnât be until youâre fucked out and weak from as many orgasms as he can pull from you with just his mouth that heâd think of his own dick. Only then would he fold you in half and rail you ruthlessly. But he still would make sure to get at least one more orgasm out of you before heâd even consider finishing. The most âselfishâ thing heâd do is use his full weight to keep your hips as close to fused as possible and full of him as you both catch your breath at least as much as you can as Tony insists on making out
~ Cryptid this might have gotten a little carried away from the initial intentions, I NEED that man
nonono because youâre so right about this!! I can't believe the answer to all my problems was literally said to my face and I was to blind to see...<///3
I don't think Tony is completely immune to his own pleasure, but like you said, he'll make you cum plenty of times, squeezing every drop from you before you even feel his cock against your pussy!
Tony who laughs against your clit when you pull on his hair, the action only seemingly making him more determined. He nips at your inner thighs, grinning up at you with a lewd sheen dressing his lower mouth, "C'mon, sweet'eart," Tony's voice drags on before spitting down on your pussy, a finger slipping inside your hole with ease, "Gimme one more- I know she can take it, right?" He drinks up your aroused slick, not bothering to be quiet, keeping eye contact with you while loudly slurping you off his fingers in a way that makes your cunt pulse with need.
Sometimes he's mean, he can be so mean, even when he's still servicing you. He's not hurling insults- never that- but it's awfully mean, the way Tony will use his strength and size against you. Whether that's pulling your ragdoll-limp body up a full nelson or pushing you down against the bed, locking his bicep around your neck while groaning in your ear about how much you're squeezing him. Although he's not picky about the positions whatsoever, so you may find yourself in ones you hadn't even considered but feel great- great enough for you to cry as he bruises your cervix, coming for the third, fourth, fifth time. "One- One more time. You can do that for me, yeah? Yeah, that's fucking right, cum, please cum-" You'll hear him, switching between demanding it to straight begging you to cream all over his cock.
Description: While analyzing space plants in Sueâs lab, you get infected with sex pollen. Johnny, hotshot, flirty as hell, and definitely not yours (yet) starts looking a little too good in those tight pants. You try to fight it, until you find yourself begging him to save you.
Tags/warnings: no movie spoilers. fem!reader, sex pollen, smut, johnny loves to flirt and tease, long buildup, yearning, tension, hands kink, begging, praising, fingering, oral fem rec, piv, multiple rounds.
Note: Itâs getting hot in here or is it just me? đââď¸ I couldnât help myself, needed to make another one of these with my man JohnnyđĽ also I know this is very long but this is porn with juicy plot lmao, enjoy đŤśđź
Working at the Baxter Tower had always been the dream. Years of research in botanical science had finally paid off when Sue Storm called, inviting you to study alien plant specimens from their latest space mission. It was everything youâd ever wanted.
And of course, becoming friends with her after months of working together came with many open doors, and benefits. And one of them was her brother.
Johnny Storm.
Blonde, charming to the core, unfairly handsome, way smarter than he let on. Quite the hotshot. Literally. And infuriatingly interested in you the moment you stepped into the building.
Sue said he hadnât set foot near her lab in months. Now he dropped by almost daily with flimsy excuses, snacks, oxygen checks, dumb questions about leaf colors, all paired with a flirty comment and that unfairly pretty smile.
You rolled your eyes. Every time.
You also got flustered. Every time.
And he noticed. Every time.
And as much as you tried to convince yourself not to fall for his charm, it was practically impossible when he showed up in the middle of the day with some chips and those pretty blue eyes, saying something about how your lab coat fit you particularly nicely that day. You swore you werenât falling for it. Not for him. Because he flirted with everyone. Thatâs who he was.
Still, that didnât stop your heart from skipping whenever he looked at you like you were the only person in the room.
Thankfully, he wasnât around this time, so you could totally focus on your work with Sue.
"Okay! batch 5FA's tests are catalogued and processed, programming a check in tomorrow. Let's go with batch 5FB," Sue announced, storing the studied samples inside an isolated chamber.
"Batch 5FB is here. Thank you HERBIE," you smiled as the adorable robot placed a glass box with a metal base on the counter in front of you.
You were running a second round of tests on previously labeled specimens, checking for possible medicinal uses. You pressed the button on the base and the glass dome lifted in a soft hiss, releasing a small cloud of white fog from the chamber's interior.
Sue turned her attention to her tablet, scrolling through the database for any notes on these samples. But before she could find any, all the lights went out. All systems stopped working, including the heating.
"Not again," she groaned, setting the tablet down and standing up to head out, no doubt to scold her husband for running experiments during your lab hours.
She stormed off the room, using a soft glow of energy to guide her, leaving you alone in the dark.
Now where was Johnny Storm when you needed him?
If he weren't outside, probably absorbing flames from a burning building, you were sure he'd already be here. Flaming on with that smug smirk before Sue could even reach Reed's lab.
Maybe it was your imagination, but moments like this always felt colder when the golden sun who made it his mission to orbit you... wasn't there.
You lifted your arm to check the watch device on your wrist, one that Johnny had insisted you got 'in case of an emergency', but he just wanted you to have it to continue flirting with you when he wasn't around in the lab. This time being no exception, there was a message from him.
đĽ: Will bring some snacks later, Iâm sure you look delightful as always. Donât miss me too much ;)
You rolled your eyes and shook your head amused, locking the watch before you got too caught up staring at the contact photo, set by him, obviously, when he prepared the device for you.
The lights suddenly flickered back on, and the heat kicked back in. Sue re entered the lab, looking proud of herself.
"The next time that happens, he's never hearing the end of it," she muttered, rolling her eyes with a smirk as she made her way back and you chuckled. "Now, shall we?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at the samples.
"I have a feeling this is a promising batch," you joked, eyeing the boring looking plants.
First mistake of the day.
You both got to work, moving in sync through the usual process. It was routine, nothing outside the ordinary, but for some reason ... you began feeling uneasy.
It started with your fingers, a soft, harmless tingle spreading up. You frowned, brushing the sudden sheen of sweat from your forehead with your sleeve.
Was the heating overcompensating? You could swear the room was warmer.
Before you could say anything to Sue, who was still calmly swabbing samples, a familiar scent hit you, making you freeze in place.
First, something intoxicatingly warm and smoky. Then, a devastatingly familiar cologne you knew too well who it belonged to.
Johnny?
Your head snapped around, expecting him to be standing right behind you. That would certainly explain the sudden heat increase, the scent. His scent.
But there was no one there.
"What the hell," you whispered, scanning the lab for any sign of him. Maybe it was another one of his dumb pranks?
Your heart skipped a beat, then started pounding. You turned around fully this time, eyes searching frantically across the room for a possible fire you could be missing.
The smell of smoke was too strong, so much that the air felt heavier. Johnny's crazy theory about the plants affecting the room's oxygen suddenly didn't feel so dumb anymore.
Oh, Johnny.
Those blue eyes. That stupid grin. Those hands. Those tight pants outlining hisâ wait.
What the actual hell was that thought?
And worse, why did it help?
You didn't get the chance to question your thoughts any further, because the door hissed open, and he walked in. Casual as ever, carrying two drinks and a bag of chips.
"Snack delivery," Johnny called out with a smile, tossing you a wink before turning his attention to HERBIE at the entrance. "Hey, little guy. Miss me?"
He placed the things on a counter next to the door, and crouched down beside the robot, scratching the top of the metal head affectionately. You heard Sue sighing annoyed beside you, but your complete focus was on him.
Because now you were watching him laugh, his eyes crinkling, his forearms flexing as he leaned casually on his knees, and you weren't just staring, you were obsessing. The way his fingers traced little circles into HERBIE's side. A deep red jacket hugging his frame. The outline of his toned chest under that fitted t-shirt. The way his jeans fit when he crouched like that.
Jesus Christ.
You blinked hard, turning away so fast you nearly knocked over a tray of samples.
What the hell was going on?
You weren't even looking at him anymore and still, you could feel him. Smell it. The smoke, and something warm and sweet and masculine. Something him. Stronger now, like it was clinging to the inside of your lungs. You inhaled slowly, carefully, biting your lips to keep a whine from coming out.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him stand stretching lazily, arms overhead, shirt riding up just a little too far. You stared at the plant in your hand like it was the most fascinating thing you'd ever seen, praying Sue wouldn't turn around and notice your soul leaving your body.
"I was right, you look absolutely delightful today," Johnny said casually, leaning over the counter by the door.
You dropped the sample.
Sue did turn around this time, raising an eyebrow as you fumbled to grab it. You knew he flirted like breathing, you got used to it. But not now. Not when this indescribable heat was pooling between your thighs.
"Thanks," you muttered, not trusting yourself to look at him. Because if you did, if you dared, you were about one compliment away from grabbing him by the collar and climbing him like a tree.
And apparently, your body agreed. You squeezed your thighs together, pulse hammering in your ears, because why did that compliment feel like he'd whispered it right against your skin?
"Here you go," his voice startled you when he appeared next to you, placing a can of soda and a bag of chips on the table.
And then he had the audacity to lean on the counter, tapping his long fingers rhythmically on some equipment as he peeked over your work.
It shouldn't be that hot. It's just fingers. It's just tapping.
But god, those hands...
"Did youâdid you wear more cologne today?" you asked before you could stop yourself.
Dammit.
Johnny straightened up in his spot, eyebrows raised in surprise.
"Actually no, I forgot it today," he said, then tilted his head with a smirk. "Why? Do I smell nice?"
"NoâI mean, you don't smell bad. Or good. It's just... nothing," you shut yourself up before you could continue rambling.
"Uh-huh. You okay, doc?" he asked, a smirk on his face as he innocently chewed on a chip. "You look kind of sweaty."
You turned around halfway to the opposite side, facing Sue instead. Safety zone. Sue was safe. Science. Plants.
But even she was watching you with narrowed eyes now. Like she knew. Like she sensed the shift in the air, the pheromones steaming from your body.
"You're flushed," Sue said, leaning closer with a concerned frown. "Are you feeling okay?"
"I'm fine," you blurted. "Totally fine. Just warm. The heating came back on really strong, right?"
"You can always take off that pretty lab coat, let us see that cute skirt of yours."
Fuck.
You were going to kill him. Or jump his bones. Or both. You turned your attention back to the plants, and you could feel both siblings' eyes drilling on the sides of your head.
"Don't look at me right now," you whispered, more to Johnny than Sue. "It's distracting, seriously. Don'tâ"
"Waitâam I making you nervous?" he teased, squinting playfully. "You usually want to kick me out, what's up with you?"
"Nothing. Leave."
"Oh, now you want me out? You're being weird today."
"You're weird every day," you snapped.
He didn't seem to be bothered by your attitude, if anything it made him want to try harder to see how much he could get on your nerves. Satisfied with your flustered reaction, he decided to walk across the lab to grab something from the spot he'd initially been in, but thankfully, got distracted by the robot again.
Sue narrowed her eyes at you the whole time, before turning back to her tablet. "I'm pulling the preliminary scans. Something feels off."
Something was definitely off. You were practically vibrating. If Johnny got any closer again you were not going to be responsible for your actions.
You forced yourself to focus on breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Ignore Johnny's stupid laugh and his stupid biceps as he played with herbie in the background.
"Oh no," Sue gasped, staring at her tablet, and your stomach dropped.
"What?" you whispered, trying to keep Johnny oblivious to it, stepping toward her. "What oh no?"
She turned the tablet just enough for you to read the highlighted results from batch 5B.
Pheromone compound found. Induces increased arousal in subjects, mental fixation on known desires, and irrational impulses toward selected partners. Triggered by sudden light and temperature changes. Potentially dangerous if not treated.
You blinked once. Then again.
"Did I just get hit with sex pollen?!" You whisper shouted. Sue just nodded, feeling sorry for you, at least her modified DNA kept her safe from it.
Suddenly it all made sense.
The heat. The way your skin was buzzing. The uncomfortable pressure building low in your stomach. And God help you, the way your brain couldn't stop fixating on Johnny Storm.
"What's with the whispering? Are you talking about me?" behind you, Johnny shouted from his spot, and you could hear the grin in his voice.
"Don't come over here!" You turned and pointed at him in panic. "We're ... working."
He raised both hands, amused and quite confused. "I was just gonna ask if you wanted the sour cream chips tooâ"
"Do not say cream right now!" you snapped, turning back to Sue like she was your lifeline. "Sue, get him out of here. Now."
"Why?"
"Because he's annoying, and I can't deal with that right now," you lied, straight in her face, because the reason you needed him gone was if he said one more thing about your skirt ...
"Right, okay." She nodded. After all, this wasn't the first time she needed to kick out Johnny for both of your sake's.
She stormed toward the other end of the lab, clapping her hands. "Johnny. Out. Now."
"What? Why?" he blinked, feigning hurt. "I was just ... HERBIE and I were having a bonding momentâ"
"Out. We need to work in peace." She pointed to the door, glaring at him.
He raised his hands in surrender, but that smug grin never left his face.
"Alright, alright, I'm going, damn. Don't miss me too much." He winked as he walked backwards out the door. "But if you do, you know where to findâ"
The door hissed shut on his face. You groaned, leaning against the counter.
"Sex pollen lasts around twelve hours. At least, as far as I know. But if it doesn't get solved, what happens?"
"Well..." she hesitated.
"Sue?"
"Your nervous system could crash. You're not just... horny, you're chemically overwhelmed. Your dopamine's probably through the roof. If it gets worse, you could faint. Or ...worse."
"Worse? Oh my god," you gulped. "So I just ... die?â
"It will only feel like that."
"Only? Oh my God. Oh my God."
"Don't panic!"
"Don't tell me not to panic!"
"Okay, okay, sorry," she apologized, scrolling through the information again. "Listen, the data says it gives you fixation on selected partners, so that's probably who you're being drawn to right now. You could get them to, you know ...help you."
You froze. No. It can't be happening. Not like this.
"You do have someone in mind, right?" She glanced up from her tablet, questioning.
You didn't answer. Her eyes narrowed.
"Wait ... who is it?"
No answer, again. But Sue Storm didn't need you to say it. All she had to do was study your state. Dilated pupils, the slight tremble of your hands, not being able to stay still. And the way all of that seemed to have gotten worse when her brother walked in the room.
Her jaw dropped with realization. "No," she said horrified, gaze drifting to the door.
"Yes," you whispered, mortified, hands covering your face from embarrassment. "It's not my fault! Everything he does makes me wannaâ"
"Ew! Stopâstop talking!" She made a gagging motion. "Gross, that's my baby brother!"
"I know! Do you think I wanted this?" You groaned into your hands, and she sighed dramatically.
"I'm going to find Reed, he might be able to create a suppressant or something. But listen to me, this stuff can escalate fast, especially if you don't get any release. So maybe just... maybe just call him, okay?"
"What?" You stared at her in horror.
"Only if it gets worse! I'm not saying do anything, don't tell me if you do ... actually I don't want to know anything about it ever," she scowled, walking backwards to the door, making HERBIE follow her.
"Sueâ"
"Bye! Good luck! Don't die!" And with a last apologetic smile, she was gone.
You were so fucked.
Not literally, unfortunately.
There was no one here to stop you from spiraling now. No one to distract you. Just the echo of Johnny's stupid laugh in your head and the phantom trace of his hand all over the lab's equipment.
You've been around him all week. He was always touching things, sometimes just to piss Sue off. Flicking paperclips while saying you looked pretty. Tapping those fingers of his on every damn surface before someone kicked him out.
Why were you so fixated on his hands?
"Known desires." Pft. As if. You groaned softly, pressing your thighs together like that was going to help.
It didn't.
"You've gotta be kidding me," you whispered to the empty lab, remembering what Sue told you about calling ... him.
Don't you dare. It's just fake heat. He's not yours. You can't call him because you're desperate.
You sat on the edge of your stool and gripped the edge of the counter, trying to stay grounded. Trying to breathe. Constantly shifting your hips against the leather in hopes of relief. It didn't help. Nothing helped.
Your body was screaming for him. Only for him.
Maybe you could relieve yourself.
First, you decided to get rid of your lab coat. Then, taking a deep breath, you slipped your free hand under the waistband of the skirt, gasping when your shaky fingers fumbled against your dripping folds. You gripped the table harder, nails hurting against the hard countertop, as the fingers inside you moved erratically.
Maybe if you just pretended it was him ...
He was all you could think about after all. The way his voice went lower when he said your name, the restraint he showed around you keeping his hands to himself, or the times he watched you from the corner of the lab, sat on a stool, legs spread wide in those unfairly tight pants waiting for you to sit on them.
Oh, Johnny.
What would you do to have him ask 'Where does it hurt?' and then kiss it better. To have him all over you. Touching you. Whispering something hot and stupid while his mouth kissed down your stomach. The way his hands would feel, how his warm grip would hold your thighs open andâ
No.
Fantasies weren't enough. Your fingers weren't enough. It was getting worse, actually, the tension building up in your body made it more painful.
"Come on, this is not happening," you yanked your hand back, staring at the ceiling in utter defeat. "I'm not gonna sit here and finger myself over Johnny Storm like a lunatic."
You covered your face with both hands, groaning. You were dripping. Actually dripping. And no matter what you tried, it just made you want him more.
Twelve hours. You had twelve hours of this.
Unless ...
No.
The moment you saw him again you'd explode from shame and arousal at the same time.
You inevitably glanced over the watch on your wrist. The one Johnny himself synced to his, so you could instantly patch through no matter where he was in the world.
But right now, your salvation was probably no further than three floors down.
You knew he would come the second you called. God, he'd come running. He'd probably make a joke out of it. âWhat, you miss me that bad?â and then he'd see it in your face.
The need. The desperation. The lack of self control.
And maybe, just maybe ... he'd understand.
"Please... I don't know what else to do, " your hesitant finger slowly reached the small screen, and hovered over Johnny Storm's name.
His contact picture made you press it instantly.
The device beeped only once, and then his voice came through.
"Miss me already?" His voice was light, amused. "Or did Sue set the lab on fire? ... see this is why I should always be there."
Your whole body twitched, relief and panic crashed over you in one brutal wave. He was joking. Of course he was. You could picture the smile in his voice, that stupid glint in his eyes.
It calmed you, only for a second. Like his voice was water in the middle of a dessert.
"Johnny... I need you here. Right now," you blurted, trying your best not to sound like you were dying.
He paused for a moment, and then his heavy footsteps echoed through the call.
"I'm coming," he said immediately, no hesitation, no further questions asked. The comm went silent.
Okay now what? There's no turning back, he's gonna be here. He's actually gonna be here.
You began pacing again. You couldn't think straight, and the heat was getting worse. Because now your brain painted images of him.
Johnny storming into the lab, hair tousled from how fast he walked there, with that smug smile and probably a damn stupid comment.
And you'll have to look him in the eye and tell him why you called. Tell him you were burning. That nothing helped. That you needed him or you would die.
How the fuck do you say that out loud?
'Hi Johnny, so I inhaled a plant's weird space pollen and now I'm gonna lose my mind if you don't rail me on this table?'
You shook your head. Forced yourself to straighten up. Smoothed your skirt, your blouse. Fingers shaking through your hair. If you could just act normal, or look normal, maybe you could buy time. Maybe Sue would come back before anything happened.
Maybe you wouldn't fall apart the second he looked at you.
But before you could control your breathing, the door slid open. And in walked Johnny, with that maddening, stupidly beautiful smirk already on his face.
"Well, well, well," he drawled, stepping inside. "Locked up alone in the lab, calling me back here in a hushed voice... you naughty thing. Couldn't even last an hour without me?"
You didn't move, taking in how much stronger his scent was now. He tilted his head at you, mischief lighting up his eyes as he strutted forward.
"So what, you finally decided I was irresistible? Wanted a private show?" He wiggled his fingers, letting small flames come to life. "Because I do take requests, you know. Fireman, sexy lab assistantâ"
"Johnny," you snapped, voice cracking.
Something shifted in your posture then, like all the heat finally caught up with you. You backed away, pressing your hands flat against the cold edge of the counter like it could anchor you. Your breathing got more erratic, and your knees actually buckled before you forced yourself upright again.
Johnny's playful expression changed.
"Hey, heyâ" he instantly crossed the space between you, reaching out to hold you but stopped when you flinched away from him. "What's wrong? What happened?"
You shook your head, trying to speak, but nothing came out. Just a helpless sound, a frustrated whimper. Johnny took a cautious step closer, still without touching you.
"Are you hurt, sweetheart?" His voice softened, laced with worry.
Sweetheart?
Your ovaries screamed.
"Johnny, something is wrong ... really wrong with me," you whispered, finally turning to look at him with glassy eyes.
He frowned, worried. His gaze scanned you, the way you could barely hold yourself upright but refused to let him hold you. So his eyes drifted to the table to find a possible reason, landing on the lit tablet, the screen still displaying the information.
"Johnny waitâ"
Before you could stop him, he picked it up and scrolled through the content, eyes going wide. He paused, stared and read the entry again. And again. His mouth opened, trying to get a joke out of it, but the shock wouldn't let him.
"...it's pollen," he finally said, voice cracking like a boy hitting puberty again. "Sex pollen? You got hit with horny powder."
"Don't call it that," you groaned, covering your face with your hands from embarrassment.
Johnny looked down at your flushed skin, the sweat glistening on your collarbone, the way you couldn't even stand still anymore, and all of it clicked.
Holy shit. It was fucking sex pollen. He'd read about it before, but never thought he would have it in front of him.
That you would have it in front of him.
"Wait," he blurted, staring back at the tablet. "Wait wait waitâ"
You peeked through your fingers, just in time to see him re reading the entry. His eyes went wide, in a mixture of surprise and something else.
"Known desires... selected partners," he mumbled the words, and then, he looked up at you with impossibly hopeful eyes and a grin on his face, âMe?"
You didn't answer him right away, you couldn't. You were sure this was the moment you fainted.
"I didn't know what to do," you whispered. "Sue left and I ... God, Johnny, I tried to fight it, I swear. But I couldn't think, and you were the only one Iâ"
"Hey," Johnny cut you softly, slowly closing the distance, your bodies barely grazing together. "Look at me."
You didn't.
"Come on," he coaxed, just a little softer. "You're okay. I got you."
Your eyes lifted to his, and the heat behind them made your stomach twist. He wasn't smirking anymore. No teasing, just him, present and very aware of what he was causing on you.
You hated that it only made things worse.
"I didn't know what to do," you whispered. "I can't think. I can't breathe."
He stared at you for a moment, hesitant.
"What do you need me to do?" he asked, genuinely. His hands were still on his sides, like his restraint was a question you could still say no to.
"God, I don't even know what I need," You let out a shaky laugh, half delirious, half desperate.
"Sure you do," he said quietly, like it was the easiest answer in the world. "You called me."
Your mouth parted, but no sound came out. So you nodded, because you did.
And then, just like that, his hand finally reached to your waist. Just his warm hand, barely even getting there, but your body snapped like he just sent electricity through your whole body.
You gasped, stumbling back, nearly knocking over the stool. Johnny quickly steadied you with both hands now, eyes wide.
"Okay, okayâthat sensitive?" he chuckled breathlessly, like he still couldn't wrap his head around what was happening. "Not that I'm complaining, but usually when I flirt with you, you roll your eyes and then you kick me out."
But you weren't rolling your eyes now. Not yet, at least.
"Yeah I'm just ..." you mumbled, breathless. Skin burning with the feeling of his hands on your waist, warm even through your clothes, staring up at him like he hung the stars. "I feel like I'm burning alive and you're the only one who can put it out."
For the first time in his life, Johnny didn't know what to say back.
It's not like his fantasy of having you spread over the lab counter was starting to become a reality. Only if you said it. If you wanted him to.
God, if you really asked him he would please you in any way possible.
"Johnny..." you whined to get his attention. Your pupils were blown wide, lashes fluttering, eyes glassy with unshed tears you couldn't stop at this point. "It hurts, doâdo something ... anything."
"Hey, hey, it's okay. I said I got youâ"
His hands cupped your face, impossibly warm against your already overheated skin. You leaned into them like you needed it, like you've been starved of touch for hours.
His touch.
And you stared at him, he was beautiful and hot and close, and your whole body leaned forward like a magnet. Like it knew it needed him. Because all you could see was him.
The concern in his eyes. The way his thumbs traced your cheekbones so gently. The way he was so close and still not close enough.
You reached out with shaking fingers and grabbed the collar of his jacket, yanking him toward you until your chests collided, until all you could feel was his toned body on yours.
You exhaled like you just found oxygen.
He stumbled forward, instinctively wrapping his arms around your back, pressing you tighter to him.
"...You're serious," he whispered, lost in the way you seemed to be devouring him with your eyes. "You're really not okay."
You nodded, fists clenching in his jacket.
And without even thinking about it, you rubbed against him. Your body moved slowly, needy. Instinctively.
It was just a subtle graze, your hips grinding against his body for friction, for anything. And for the first time in the day you felt some kind of relief.
"Shit, baby," he cursed under his breath, almost groaning.
You made a soft, broken sound in your throat at the friction, at the way his thigh brushed yours, at the warmth of his skin through his clothes, at the scent of him everywhere.
Johnny choked on his own breath. He tightened his grip for a moment, just enough to keep you from moving further. You whined, at this point completely lost in the haze, but he kept you firmly in place.
"Sweetheart..." he started softly. "If we do thisâif you really want this, I'm not walking away from you afterward. I'm not pretending this didn't happen."
"Me neither," you answered, a little too rushed.
But you meant it. You were tired of pretending him strutting into the lab wasn't your favorite part of the day. Tired of pretending you didn't want him.
"Please Johnny," you begged, hands moving to play with his hair, "I want you. All of you, today and everyday."
He looked stunned for a second, that 'please' shattering every bit of restraint he had left . He'd been wanting you since day one.
"That's my girl," his hands cradled your face with such devastating tenderness, making you forget the chaos in your blood, the desperation clawing under your skin.
And then, in a sudden move, he spun you around, one arm wrapped around your waist as the other held the back of your head. He bent over your frame, tilting your body backwards, like being swept into a cliche movie kiss, and crashed his lips into yours. You gasped into his mouth as one of your feet left the ground, with your weight safe in his arms, and clenched your fists on his hair. He kissed you hungry, reverent, like this was the moment he'd been waiting his whole damn life for.
You clung to his body like oxygen, letting yourself get lost in the smoke, in the devastating warmth of his body, in the way his tongue dominated over yours. He groaned over your lips, like he could taste your urgency. Until none of you could breathe anymore.
"That's how you do a first kiss," he mumbled against your lips, breathless and still maddening cocky.
You pressed your forehead to his, panting, dizzy, holding on to him like he was the only thing keeping you alive.
"Now show me how you do me."
Yeah, you were going to be the death of Johnny Storm.
That was enough for him. He pulled you upright, spinning you to lift you over the counter. He kissed you again, rougher this time, and with one arm knocked over what was on the counter so you would have more space.
Metal tools clashed loudly against the floor, plant samples tilted over, dirt spilling on the ground, and something definitely shattered.
"Shit," he laughed into your lips. "Sue's gonna kill me."
"Don't care," you panted, tugging on his jacket so he could get rid of it.
"Eager, are we?" he smirked, but complied in taking it off, taking a step back to throw it across the room.
Your eyes raked through his body, biting your lip at the way that white shirt clung to this toned chest.
He placed himself between your legs again, palms laying on your skin, and started drumming his fingers absentmindedly. Like he didn't know exactly what he was doing to you. Like the casual tap of each warm fingertip against your thigh wasn't setting your whole body on fire.
Your breath shuddered watching his hands.
And he noticed. Of course he did, and his mouth curled into the softest, filthiest smile.
"Wait..." he said, mischief behind his eyes. "Hold on. Is it my hands? Is that what's doing it for you?
You swallowed hard, heart pumping in your chest. Your eyes darted to his fingers again, the ones teasing your skin a bit harder now. The ones you've thought about way too many times, in way too many ways.
His smirk grew when you didn't answer. He already knew.
Johnny's hand lifted behind your neck, coaxing your head back just enough so you were forced to meet his eyes, almost glowing golden fire with lust. The other trailed upward, knuckles brushing your chin before tracing the curve of your lips.
"Let me see that pretty mouth," he mumbled, and when your lips parted, he pushed two fingers inside, slow and steady.
You whimpered, eyes rolling back from tasting him. He just stared at you like he'd never seen anything hotter in his life.
"That's it... get them wet for you," Johnny breathed, thumb brushing your cheek as he watched you suck on them like a lifeline. "God, you're so hot."
He pulled his fingers free, glistening, and grinned like the absolute menace he was.
"Open your thighs for me."
You did, immediately, like your body belonged to ever command he made.
He slid his hand inside your skirt, the same one you just had in your mouth, reaching for your panties. You gasped when he finally touched you over the fabric, his fingers pressing between your legs, dragging slow and warm and perfect against your soaked underwear.
"Oh, fuck," he breathed. "Didn't even need it, you were already this wet for me, huh?"
You nodded, biting your lip. "I need you ... please,â the plea fell from your lips in a whisper. âJohnny ⌠save me.â
Now he was staring at you like you hung the stars. Like having you wet, pleading, begging him to be your hero was a kink he never knew he had.
"Shit. Honey... I got you" he leaned in, like he couldn't get any closer. "I got you. I haven't evenâfuck, I haven't even really started."
He slid your underwear aside and finally dipped his fingers into you, slow and gentle and so good you whimpered into his shoulder.
"There she is," he cooed. "God, you're so wet. So soft."
You clung to him, nails curling against the back of his neck. He groaned, obsessed with how desperate you were for him. You could barely breathe anymore, his slow pace was maddening, like he wanted to savor every reaction, every sound you made.
"So tight," he praised, kissing down your neck. "You feel so fucking good. You like that, baby?"
You moaned, a complete mess on top of that counter, and he grinned against your skin.
"Yeah you do. Look at you. Already a mess for me."
His other hand cradled your head again, keeping you close, anchoring you to him as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out, curling just right, his thumb starting to circle your clit, It was too much. But not enough.
"You were thinking about this, weren't you?" he teased, hot breath against your neck. "You wanted my fingers in you. Couldn't stop thinking about it."
He was right. He knows he was right.
"Don't worry," he groaned, licking a slow stripe along your throat. "They're all yours."
Every filthy sound of his wet fingers inside you, every whimper you made went straight to his bloodstream.
You were praying his name, over and over, until you fell apart on his hand, moaning, gasping, shaking, he kissed you through it, humming against your lips.
"That's it. Just like that, pretty girl. I got you."
You were breathless, clinging to him, and he didn't stop curling his fingers to feel how your walls clenched around him. He held you there, watching you come undone with pure adoration in his eyes, his free hand cupping your cheek, pressing kisses to your temple, your jaw, the corner of your mouth. Because even after wrecking you he was devastatingly tender.
"God, I could watch you fall apart all night," he cursed, watching your chest raise violently at your first release of the night.
He watched stunned, it was like he was bringing you back to life.
And it felt like that.
Your body yearned for more, but before you could speak again, he pulled his fingers out, and brought two to his mouth, slow and deliberate, sucking your wetness off them like he'd been starving for it. He groaned, like you were the best thing he'd ever tasted.
Your mouth parted, speechless, his eyes locked on yours as he licked them clean, and then slid those same fingers back inside you.
You gasped, back arching as he pumped a few more times, watching your body clench around him. Like he wanted more. Like you were his favorite experiment now.
"Here, you can have some too," he smirked, pulling them out and slipping them into your open mouth.
You moaned around his fingers, lashes fluttering, and Johnny swore nothing had ever wrecked him more than the sight of you, on top the counter, flushed and trembling, eyes wide and glassy, staring at him while you tasted yourself off his fingers.
"So good, isn't it?" He pulled his fingers from your mouth, but let his thumb drag over your bottom lip, pressing it down to see the way your pretty mouth stayed open for him, spreading some of your own cum in your chin.
Not a single sane thought left in your head at this point. You needed him now more than ever.
"Johnny."
"Yes, babe?"
"Fuck me. Fuck me right now."
Something shifted behind his eyes. The smirk stayed, but there was a new weight to it now, dark, focused, possessive.
"You want me to save you, huh?" he asked softly. His hand trailed down from your lip, past your throat, down your covered chest, your breasts, until it pressed flat against your stomach.
He slid you closer to the edge of the counter with a grunt, and you gasped when you felt his bulge, hot and heavy, pressing against your core through his pants.
"You don't know how long I've wanted you like this," he breathed against your lips, dragging his mouth down to your neck, sucking a mark just beneath your ear. "All spread out for me."
"You can have me, you can have all of me.â
"Yeah?" His lips curled into a smile against your throat. "You want it slow, baby, or do you want it how you begged for it?"
"Please, Johnny ..."
"Oh, sweetheart." He leaned back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and gleaming.. "You don't have to beg anymore."
He slid his shirt off with ease, showing off his chiseled golden body. His pants were next, hitting the floor in a quiet thud, and your shaky hands yanked his boxers down. His throbbing cock sprung up free, swollen, showing you how much your desperation had him painfully rock hard.
You had to fight every part of your being to not push him down and jump on his dick until you passed out from exhaustion. But before you could, he was already bunching up your skirt. You lifted your hips to slide it down, but he chuckled, pushing you down.
"No, no. The skirt stays on," he licked his lips. "Been dreaming about this for a while."
You gasped when he placed his tip on your entrance with one hand, giving it a few slaps like he was savoring every single second. And so were you.
He slid in slowly, inch by inch, mouth open against your shoulder, and he moaned. Johnny fucking Storm moaned. Because it was you. Because it was better than any dream he'd ever had. Better than he even imagined.
"Fuck," he groaned. "You feel so goodâyou're perfect, baby. You're perfect."
You cried out as he bottomed out, clinging to him, nails digging on his bare back, and he smiled, like he was trying to memorize every sound you made.
"That's it, let me hear you," he panted, slamming in so he could hear you yelp. "You sound so fucking good, baby. Look how you take me."
You buried your face in his neck, trembling as your legs lifted to wrap around his waist. To try and get him to go deeper.
"You've been driving me crazy for months," he grunted, slamming in again. "All those times you rolled your eyes at me? You have no idea what I was thinking."
It didn't take him longer to fuck into you, hard, immediately hitting that spot. You were already a moaning mess, fingers digging into his shoulders. With both hands he grabbed your blouse, and pulled to rip the fabric, snapping the buttons open. Next was your bra, like he finally decided he needed to see your boobs bouncing with every thrust.
"I've wanted you ... needed you" he breathed, diving in to get lost in your chest. "For so long..."
And he showed you how much. With the way he sucked your nipples. With the way his hips snapped forward to make you gasp. With the way his hands roamed all over your body. Or the way he groaned into your neck as he pushed himself balls deep into your soaked pussy.
"Fuckâ Johnny," you panted, head dropping back, "you're so big ... feels so good."
"Yeah?" he smirked against your skin, "too much already?"
"Never," you shook your head. "Harder, Johnny. Fuck me harder."
Yeah, this was definitely better than any fantasy he's ever had.
He smiled, god he smiled. Looking devilishly sweet while wrecking your entire body. Completely undoing you.
He picked up the pace, driving into you just right, hands gripping your hips like he owned them. Every thrust knocked another moan from your lips, and every moan made him laugh softly, like he couldn't believe how lucky he was to be inside you like this.
Your breath started getting shorter, nails digging deeper into his skin, and he felt the way your body was crashing under him.
"C'mon, sweetheart, I got you. Let go for me. Let me feel you." He groaned, and that was it.
You fell apart in his arms for the second time with a cry, pulsing around him, and Johnny just lost it. He kissed you hard, hips stuttering as he came inside you with a low, broken groan. His cum filled you deep. So warm, warmer than anybody's ever was.
And it drove you insane.
Your fingers tangled in his hair, your body arching to meet his, and Johnny leaned back just enough to look at you, eyes scanning your flushed face, your swollen lips, the blissed out haze in your eyes.
"You're beautiful like this," he said, running his thumb softly over your skin. "You know that? Fucking stunning. Never letting you go."
Now it's you smiling, dazed, lost in his eyes as you tried to catch your breath.
"You're everything Johnny," you whispered, your hands cradling his face. "You're so good to me."
He smiled, then leaned forward, catching your lips in a soft kiss. Your mouths moved like they knew each other. Like they belonged. And god he was a good kisser, but the pollen in your body made you crave for more.
You didn't mean to lunge, really, but the next thing you knew was you surged forward. Caught off guard, he stumbled backwards, holding your waist, your body landing on top of him as his back touched the floor.
Johnny was still panting from his high, from the kiss, and now he was sprawled out on the floor, chest rising and falling in aftershocks when you climbed closed to his face.
He looked up at you, stunned for a second, then grinned.
"You're not done with me yet, huh?" he placed both hands behind his head, biceps flexing. "Okay, don't let me stop you."
You grinned, kissing down his jaw, over his throat, his collarbone, your hands dragging down his toned chest like you needed to feel every inch of him again. His skin hot, like always, matching the fire rolling under your skin now. Your hips rolled instinctively against his thigh and he groaned, head tipping back.
"Shitâ" he hissed, eyes squeezing shut. "Baby, gimme a second to â"
"I can't," you pouted, breath hot against his skin. "It's still burning ... I need more of you, Johnny."
"Oh... well," he said, lips curling into a crooked smile, "when you put it like thatâ"
You kissed him before he could finish, grinding down against him with reckless need, and he groaned, his hands flying to your hips.
"Okay, okay, fuckâ" he breathed, eyes fluttering shut as your body moved against his. "You're not just using me for my stamina, are you?"
"Maybe a little," you chucked against his mouth, and he laughed.
"Fair enough."
"It just ... it still hurts."
"I know," he muttered. "I know, sweetheart. Let me help, yeah?"
He propped himself up with his elbows, one hand on your back as he flipped you over and placed you gently on the floor.
"Let me take care of you, just relax for me," he whispered, pressing his hands to open your thighs again. "I wanna taste you first ... Gotta get my strength back somehow, right?"
He slid down your body slowly, kissing his way across your ribs, your hips, trailing open mouthed heat everywhere until his face was between your thighs. His hands cradled them, thumbs sweeping over your skin like you were something precious. Like he couldn't believe the way you whimpered when he was marking every inch of your skin.
"I know, sweetheart," he cooed, voice so soft, mouth ghosting over your skin. "I know you're sensitive. Just let me make it better."
He draped your legs over his shoulders like they belonged there, kissing up your inner thighs, tongue teasing so slowly you could cry. And when he finally pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss right where you needed it...
You shattered again.
"Johnnyâ"
You arched into him and he groaned like he was the one coming apart.
"You taste so good, baby," he praised as he began licking loudly. "So sweet ... fuckâ I've wanted this for so long..."
His tongue moved swiftly, unrelenting and deliberate, while his hands pinned your hips down. You were a writhing mess, overstimulated and dripping for him, but still moaned his name over and over.
It wasn't just pleasure, every brush of his tongue was relief. Like he was cooling the fever from the inside out.
"That's what you needed, huh? All worked up and no one to help you ... what kind of man would I be if I left my girl like that?"
âMy girl.â
His girl.
"Johnny ... Please don't stop."
"I won't," he promised, smiling against your wetness. "Not until you feel safe again."
And he meant it. His lips worked you open, his tongue tracing lazy circles and long, aching strokes until you were gasping and crying out, trembling so hard your vision blurred.
He moaned against you like he was addicted. His nose brushed your clit with every pass, and it was torture, sweet, unbearable, perfect torture.
Your hands flew to his hair, tugging him closer, desperate, and he loved it, humming low as he flicked his tongue faster, coaxing another release from you, watching you fall apart all over again.
He blinked up at you, dazed and stunned and so fucking gone for you. "You're gonna kill me," he said, completely in awe. "What did I do to deserve this?"
You, spread in front of him, barely able to breathe anymore.
Body still begging for more.
He was ready for another round in no time.
You weren't sure how many rounds you ended up doing. Or how many places you begged him to fuck you on. All you remembered was begging 'one more time', "please Johnny, another one", "Johnny just one more".
It was never 'just one more'. You completely drained him after many hours, until the itch was finally gone.
Not that Johnny ever complained. If anything, he had fulfilled all of his âknown desires on his preferred partnerâ too.
Thank god for sex pollen.
You weren't sure how long you were out, your body gave in before your brain could catch up. The ache between your legs was evident but warm, the weight of Johnny's love still lingering on your skin. You woke up slowly, your cheek resting against a very toned chest, the faint scent of sweat and smoke clinging to him like a memory.
The lab was dark, save for the soft flickering light pulsing from a single, familiar source.
Johnny.
He was still beneath you, one arm wrapped around your waist, the other lazily raised. At the tip of his finger, a small flame danced, gentle, hot, nothing like the infernos he usually conjured. Just enough to light his face in amber glow.
You blinked up at him.
He wasn't looking at you, not at first. Just drawing slow circles on your back with his thumb, eyes were distant. Thoughtful.
Then he felt you stir.
"Hey," he rasped, smiling down at you.
You swallowed hard, everything flooded back. The lab. The counter. The floor. The workbench. Your hands in his hair, your name on his tongue, the way he held you like you were made for him.
And now... this.
Quiet. Intimate. Real.
"Sorry," you whispered, still sprawled half on top of him. "I didn't mean to fall asleep on you."
He chuckled softly, his chest shaking under you.
"After everything that happened that's the last thing you should be apologizing for, sweetheart," he teased, lowering the flame a little. "Besides, it's not the worst way I've ever spent a night in the lab. I love having a very satisfied hot girl passed out on my chest."
You laughed softly, feeling that familiar heat creeping up your cheeks. But something made you doubt for a second.
'After everything that happened, that's the last thing you should be apologizing for.'
Guilt washed over you. The goddamn pollen.
"Johnny... earlier... I didn't meanâ"
"Wait don't," he stopped you softly, sitting up a bit so he could see your face better. "Don't say you didn't mean it."
His expression shifted, firelight dancing in his eyes, but something in him doubted too. Like maybe it was the pollen after all.
That couldn't be farther from the truth.
"No, no that's not what I meant," you immediately corrected, and sighed. "I didn't mean to make you feel used, or... like I didn't care."
His gaze softened a little.
"You didn't," he mumbled, still holding his breath in case you sent him to hell after this.
You inhaled slowly, and everything you'd been holding back just tumbled out.
"What I said earlier... that you're everything? It wasn't just the pollen talking," you confessed. "You are, Johnny. I mean it."
His whole expression cracked open, surprised, glowing, like someone just handed him his heart back.
"Damn," he said softly, lips curling into a grin. "You're really gonna say that to me while I'm naked and emotionally compromised?"
You laughed, burying your face in his neck.
"Shut up," you mumbled, but you were smiling too.
He pulled you closer, his free hand trailing over your spine.
"Nah, too late," he grinned. "You're into me. Can't take it back now."
"Ugh, why did I say anything."
"Because you love me. Or at the very least, my hands."
You groaned. He laughed again, delighted, confident, soft. He lifted the flame again and watched the orange glow reflect on your skin.
"So what now?" you whispered.
"Now?" He shrugged. "You keep laying here. I keep lighting up the room. We do this again when you're not on a heat spiral."
"Johnnyâ"
"What?" he smirked. "You like my fingers, admit it."
You shook your head, "I wasn't that into them."
"No, no, don't even try to downplay it now," he accused, all smug. "You weren't just into my hands. You were like ... obsessed with them."
You groaned and buried your face in his chest like that would protect you from the embarrassment clawing up your throat.
"Johnnyâ"
"No, seriously," he continued with mock innocence. "I've never seen someone stare at my fingers like that. You were practically drooling. I thought I was gonna have to get a towel."
"Stooop," you whined, voice muffled, your whole body heating up again, and not from the pollen this time.
He laughed, wicked and loving all at once.
"But hey," he said, turning serious in the most unserious way, "you can have them now, you know. Anytime you need them."
"Yeah?" you asked, a glint of mischief in your eyes. "What about now?"
Little extra scene
ââ ⥠â â
feedback is always appreciated, thank you so much for reading đŤśđź
ââË.âKeep Quiet, Or Make Yourself So ââË.â
Fandom: Date Everything!
Character: Hector Valentino Airnesto Condicionado
Word Count: 4,810
Description:
Hector never attends any of the various get-togethers hosted at your home this long after realization. Not until you ask him so sweetly, anyway. So here he was, wallflowering himself to every dark corner he could find, content with watching you flit about with the others.
Though the awkardness is a little less on his mind when you're dragging him into your bedroom, all while the party rages on just on the other side of the door.
Things had, for the most part, settled into a routine once all that realization business was over and done with. Though, that did mean you had unleashed over 100 new freaks for society to deal with. It also meant that you had a steady stream of visitors to deal with, and Hector was almost always first in line to see you. He made sure of it. And whenever you planned a get together at the infamous house, he was there helping you set up. After all, he would slip out right before everyone else began to show up. He just wanted to get the opportunity to see you before he had to run. And he always ran, of course he did. What would he even do in a gathering like that besides hover in the corner? Hell, he wouldânt be surprised if he found one of his old vents to crawl into out of habit.
So he settled for arriving that morning, lingering a little too long on that greeting hug when you wrapped your arms around him in the doorway, listening to talk about what youâd been up to recently as he laid a table cloth down and you sorted through various snacks and drinks. Thirty minutes until anyone would be coming. He stood up, moving over to you to take your hand, reverently kissing the back of it.
âI suppose I must take my leave now. Goodbye, my love⌠I hope you have a good evening tonight.â
Before he could leave, you held his hand, stopping him. âYou know⌠Iâd have a much better time if you were at my side.â
âMe?â He paused, his heart dropping slightly at the thought of it. âI⌠Iâm not exactly⌠built for that sort of eventâŚâ
âThatâs fine.â You rubbed reassuring circles into his hand, drawing him closer to place your other hand on his cheek. âYou can stick by me. You donât have to talk to anyone, just⌠it would be nice to have you there.â
âOh, my love⌠you know how tempting it is to have a spot by your side reserved for meâŚâ He leaned into your hand, closing his eyes and letting its comforting weight distract him from the sudden thrum of his nerves. âI do not wish to tie you to me, to obligate you to me when your attention is the most prized aspect of this night.â
You laughed, shaking your head dismissively. âOh, you exaggerate. Besides, Iâm sure everyone would be happy to see you.â
âI doubt that. I am not a pleasant siââ He stopped in his tracks at the scolding expression on your face, clearing his throat and averting his gaze. âI just donât think its a good idea.â
âYou donât need to, of course.â You ran your thumb over his skin, soothingly caressing his cheek. âJust⌠think about it, okay? I would love to have you hereâŚâ
He stayed quiet for a long moment, glancing from the front door to your hopeful face. The thought scared him. It terrified him more than anything in the world. But⌠that was also how he felt when he first invited you to the attic, first showed his face to you, and that turned out to be the best decision of his life. He took a deep breath, placing a hand over yours to hold it tighter against his face. ââŚOkay. But⌠I might leave partway through.â
Your face brightened up, surprise and happiness in your smile. The sight alleviated someâ well, a lot of his anxiety. âThatâs all I ask.â You moved up to kiss his other cheek, then stepped past him to continue setting up. âThank you, Hector.â
He immediately regretted it, but he couldnât draw back now, not when you looked so damn happy about it. He once thought his biggest weakness was his appearance, but no, it had always been his inability to resist you. He steeled himself, and walked over to help you a little more, trying to repeat a mantra in his head that this night was going to go well for him.
The night went just about what you said you expected. Guests streamed in quickly, everyone eager to get back into the halls of such a nostalgic house. Only about a quarter-to-half of the former objects were able to make it this time, as everyoneâs schedules were so starkly different. You seemed quite relieved about that when he spoke to you earlier. There was no way over 100 people could just fit in your house and all be accommodated for. They couldnât just hop back into their object forms like before, and that was a lot of human beings for one to handle. Hector wad relieved too, very much so. It meant way less eyes on him.
He hovered around you awkwardly for the first while, unsure of what to do or where to go. Almost every surface was occupied by chattering people, so he remained your shadow while you talked excitedly to Dolly about history or got pulled into an impromptu dance by Volt. Right now, he was watching the liquid in his glass swirl numbly around as you and Parker wrapped up a particularly intense game of chess. His erratic playstyle didnât serve him this time, and you ended up winning. A few groans and cheers sounded from the few that surrounded to watch it go down, money being exchanged among the people who bet on one player or the other. Hectorâs heart warmed a little at the sight of your smile, high fiving Chance and Dasha before Parker enveloped you in a too-tight hug, yelling about how happy he was the dice chose right or something. Then, to Hectorâs surprise, you turned to him, striding over to his secluded corner as Parker challenged everyone in his general vicinity to another game, your own drink in hand.
Hector straightened up a little, trying to ignore the slight flutter in his chest.
âAre you glad you stayed?â You leaned against the wall next to him, taking a long sip from your glass. Hector cleared his throat, laughing a little awkwardly.
âIt is certainly very entertaining⌠and I enjoy watching you greatly, as you know.â
You raised a brow at him with a slightly teasing smirk on your face. âOh, I do. Those stories you wrote were very descriptive.â
He flushed, and you just laughed. Taking another long sip. He shakily raised his glass to his own lips. âI am glad you enjoyed them. Every stroke of the pen was done with your face embedded in my mind, every word carefully crafted to trace your form onto parchment⌠Every page was a reflection of my devotion to you, my love.â
You hummed in response, watching the commotion across the room, where Wyndolyn and Amir were desperately trying to stop a slightly-drunk Johnny Splash from getting up on the table and singing, while Eddie covered his ears and Koa winced. Hector took the moment to study your face, and though every inch of it was well familiar to him he couldnât help but look again and again. The real thing was so much more beautiful than the memory he held close to his chest every lonely night he traced your form in the sheets beside him, trying in vain to feel the ghosts of your fingertips on the side of his neck, hoping you could feel his longing for you even so far away. You turned and met his gaze, your eyes glinting beautifully in the dim light of the room. Hectorâs breath stuttered, and he gripped his glass tight lest he drop it in a moment of abject weakness. A smile formed on your face again, but this one was different, the all too familiar upward tilt of mischief on your lips.
Your hand gently found his shoulder, sliding down his arm to take his hand, and he followed along obediently as you pulled him away from all the chaos. âWhat say you and I get some peace and quiet?â
Panic and excitement flashed through him all at once. âM-my love? Do you have something in mind?â It was more of a rhetorical question. He knew you, he knew when you had, for better or worse, an idea. And when you led him into the bedroom, it confirmed his suspicions.
He half expected you to jump his bones the moment the door clicked closed. You truly were insatiable at times, and you never were one to skirt around your intentions. But instead, you finished your drink and placed it down on your
bedside table. He glanced at the door, listening to the muffled yells and laughs from
The rest of the home. This was like a little refuge from the storm, a little nook for just him and you. He hesitated, but slowly moved closer, placing his half-finished drink next to yours. You moved closer, a hand coming up to his chest, fingers splaying over his body through his clothing. He sucked in a little breath as he realized you were feeling his heartbeat.
âYou should⌠you have to go back.â He whispered. âPeople are going to come looking for you.â
âLet them look.â You shrugged, the hand on his chest slipping down to trace his side as you moved even closer to him. He backed up in turn, lips ajar as he tried to form any sort of intelligible language.
âYouâ you donât mean to⌠my love, not here⌠it's much too crowded.â
âItâs just us in here.â Your voice dropped a few octaves, a low, smooth tone that would usually make him fold like a piece of origami paper, but the circumstances of the moment made him hesitate. All it would take was one stray sound, one curious guest, one nosy ear to the door⌠the door that his back just hit, that you had just pressed him against. Your lips were already brushing against his neck, teasing him, taunting him, cutting through his last line of restraint. He felt his head tilting back instinctively, his hands flying up your waist. He wasnât sure if he meant to push you away or pull you closer. Either way, all of this ignited a burning in his gut, that familiar feeling of gnawing, clawing need trying to free itself from the confines of his ribcage. God, he needed you, and it warred with his need to stay hidden. Your teeth grazed his adamâs apple just barely before pulling back, and you met his gaze with a hesitant look. You were waiting for his nod, his plea for more, his cry of âyesâ. His hands tightened on you just briefly.
âAre youâŚâ His voice came out much too high. He cleared his throat, lowering it again. âAre you sure you want this? Me? Now?â
âNot unless youâll have me.â
Your quick response sent a wave of want crashing through his body. You were so ready, so willing. It was the type of want for him that he had fantasized about for years, but heâs tasted this before, and he knew you would gladly show this side of yourself to him whenever he so asked. The thought rushed his mind. Even though you were the one instructing him, guiding him, pinning him to the bed or biting at his throat like a howling animal, he was the one with the power, because it was him who held that need of yours, him who decided whether to fill it or not.
âEven if⌠youâre seen with someone like me?â
âWhy would I not want to be seen with you?â You traced comforting shapes into his hip. âYouâre beautiful.â
Your reassurance was an experience he had grown used to. But experience did nothing to quell the warmth in his chest at your words. Like he so often did, he found himself crumbling in your hands, melting at the slightest brush of your palm against his thigh, at the smoldering look in your oh-so-enticing eyes.
He answered you not with words, but with his lips, pressed against yours with a desperate fire, slow but steady like the flickering burn of freshly-fanned coals. He felt you smile against him, arms coming up to loop around his neck, drawing him closer to you. His hands wandered, from the small of your back down to your hips, lower. The kiss you shared did not stay slow for long, not when your teeth were gently tugging his bottom lip, not when you were tugging at the roots of his hair like this, not when he felt as though he might burst into flames at any more of this slow, brutal, torturous pleasure. It wasnât long until you had moved across the room, until you were falling back onto the bed with him tumbling overtop you. He broke the kiss, his chest burning from the lack of air, but it barely dampened his momentum. He was already too far gone, too driven mad with your teasing grins and lazy touches.
âIâve been waiting to be able to do thisâŚâ He murmured against your neck, kissing down it, lavishing every inch of your skin with reverent attention. He touched you firmly, but gently, simultaneously treating you like fine porcelain and something to be feared. You sat up, nuzzling into his hair as your hands moved down his spine.
âAnd Iâve been driven to my witâs end tonight, being so close to you but not being able to touchâŚâ your voice was low, more like a growl than speech. That tone always made him shiver, and he paused his motions to press his forehead against your chest, enjoying your attention for a moment with a shaky breath.
âYou planned this.â
You chuckled in response, twirling a strand of his hair in your fingers. âNot exactly⌠but I was waiting for a moment I could slip away.â
âYou delectable tease.â He hissed under his breath, lifting his head to meet your gaze, to take in your lovely expression, your eyes half-lidded, your lazy grin, your slightly-heaving chest⌠something within him short-circuited. He was glad he no longer had wires, they would surely be sparking with energy at the moment. His words seemed to amuse you by the way you tilted your head just slightly.
âIf youâre so worried about somebody noticing Iâm gone⌠I suggest we get going.â
He let out a little gasp as your hand moved lower, tracing the front of his pants, where his feelings about the situation were clearly on display. He caught your hand, pulling it back up. âDonât. Not yet.â
âOh?â You raised your brows, clearly surprised. He drew in a breath, eyes roving down your body.
âYou are my top priority.â
You blinked slowly, then laughed. You used his grip on you to draw his hand closer, pressing it invitingly onto the collar of your shirt. It was clear what you wanted him to do, and oh, he was so, so willing. He began to unbutton it, parting the fabric slowly, revealing the gorgeous expanse of skin beneath like pulling apart red curtains.
âTake your time, then. Wait to please meâŚâ
It was hard not to get distracted, to keep his focus on this incredibly important task, but the sight of your chest after so long deprived of it activated him in the same pathetic, wild way a starving dog is when presented with a fresh steak, dangled tantalizingly above his nose. He wanted nothing more than to sate his hunger, to bury his face into your chest and between your legs, devour you from the inside out, but just like a dog, he was obedient. And his owner told him to wait, so he did. He was so, so good for you, so ready to please you in every way a lover could be pleased, for as long or as fast or as slow or as strongly as you desired. Your shirt fell to the sheets beneath you, and he knelt down between your legs, looking up at you with a no-doubt begging expression. You ran your hand through his hair, and he closed his eyes briefly, leaning into your touch. He pictured your pleased smile in his mind, and it made something within him howl with want.
Your soft touches then turned into a fist curled in his hair, yanking him closer. He opened his eyes to be greeted with the front of your pants, pressed right up to his nose. He kissed the top of the zipper, before taking it between his teeth and slowly undoing it. Your surprised little breath from above him only fueled whatever flame was sparking up within him, and it burned hotter once you were able to lift your hips a little off the bed to fully discard those final pieces of clothing. His breath hitched, eyes locked on your core, nails digging just slightly into your thighs as he remembered the taste of it, the feeling of you around him as you tore at his throat and rode him until he could do nothing but babble your name and sing your praises to the high heavens. But he didnât start there. He had to take this slow.
The sounds of the bustling house outside the door seemed so far away when his fingertips were on your ankle, his featherlight touch tracing up your calf, then your thigh, coming up to gently part them just a little more. You encouraged him with words of praise, telling him how good he was for you, how much you wanted him, to keep going. He trembled just a little as he kissed the lowest portion of your thigh, sinking his face into the inner flesh of your legs, the feeling immediately bringing a rush of endorphins to his spinned, thoroughly ruined mind. Every time he spared a glance up, you were looking down at him with such a fond, soft smile, contrasted by the scorching lust he found in your eyes. His touch finally found its way to the spot you wanted him the most. His breath fanned over you just a little, letting the anticipation build before he pressed his tongue flatly against you, running his tongue all the way up to your clit, dragging over every inch of your already-soaked core. You let out a content hum from above him, your thighs moving to press into the sides of his head just a little, the subtle pressure driving him to the brink of total madness. He grabbed your hips fully now, pulling you closer as he dove in fully, hot drags of his tongue parting you again and again before he zoned in on your clit, giving it a few short licks before he wrapped his lips around it, sucking it into his mouth.
You took a deep breath from above him, and he moved just a little faster, a little more firmly. He wanted to drown like this, to suffocate with your taste on his tongue and his head crushed to dust between your thighs. He would die with a smile on his face, he was sure of it. He moaned into you, no doubt sending pleasurable vibrations through your body by the way you tugged his hair a little harder. Not to push him away, no, you were pushing him further into you, preventing escape. As if heâd ever want to escape this beautiful, perfect cage you had trapped him in. He was a man dying of thirst, and you were pouring the most potent ambrosia down his ready throat. He pulled your legs fully over his shoulders, pressing them into his head just a little more, as if hoping youâd take the bait and truly crush him.
You rocked your hips up into him just a little, one hand in his hair, the other clutched in the bedsheets. You were quiet, save for encouraging whispers and heavy breaths. Meanwhile, he was sure if his mouth wasnât occupied heâd be screaming. What, he didnât know. Only that words would fall from his lips faster than he could process what he was saying. Perhaps your name, perhaps how beautiful you were, perhaps how much he wanted this. It didnât matter right now, not when he had you so close, dangling on the edge. He needed this. He needed you to release everything you had onto his tongue, and let him lap up the excessâ
You suddenly pulled him off you by his hair, and he let out a low, guttural groan of protest, looking up at you with bleary eyes, drops of you caught in his stubble and staining his lips. His tongue darted out to lick them up, needing something to taste now that the source was ripped from him.
âWhatâ wh- why?â He stuttered out, confused and a little hurt. Your devilish smile just grew that much wider.
âStand.â
He didnât hesitate, he stood, hands still placed dutifully on your thighs. Your hands came to cup his cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss. He moaned into your lips, body trembling with barely-contained energy. While his lips were on yours, you made quick work of his jacket. You pulled apart just briefly so you could pull his shirt off, just to dive back into each other. He caught on quickly, and you let out a little hum of approval into his mouth as he unbuttoned his pants before you even had to touch them. His mind was so, so dizzy, but he was happy. Gods, who was he kidding? He was in utter paradise as your hand moved down to trace up his cock. He had to restrain himself from rutting into your hand, but he did move closer, following your every spoken command as though you had him on a tight leash. The thought of being leashed by you was actually not a bad one, not bad at all.
You broke the kiss to gasp for breath, one hand stroking his cock as the other came up to grip his shoulder. He dropped his head to the crook of your neck, letting your delicious scent ground him from the feral, rabid lust that ran through his every vein, eating at his every capillary and settling into the overworked ventricles of his bleeding heart. He began to say your name, but you cut him off with a command.
âGet on your back.â
He obeyed. Even if he did love the look of you on your back, loved doing all the work and letting you relax in the midst of pleasure, he was in no way well equipped to deny you. His head hit the pillow, and you were already straddling him. He grabbed onto your waist both for dear life and to guide you down onto him. This was quick, this was desperate. Neither of you bothered to ease into it. Both of you had been denied long enough tonight. And though Hector was a little miffed he wasnât able to have you cum on his tongue, this was just as good, if not selfishly better. He almost cried out when your body was suddenly flush against his, but you covered his mouth with a firm hand.
âShhh!â You leaned down to whisper, and he was suddenly keenly aware of all the people just behind that door. The door that he hadâ
âŚForgotten to lock.
A jolt of fear rushed through him, but it was quickly swallowed by the first snap of your hips down onto his. He sat up, pulling your hand off of him to busy himself with kissing you, and your jaw, and your throat, and your chest, any patch of bare, flushed skin he could reach as you took your pleasure by riding him silly. He helped you with his hands, at a certain point, he wasnât sure if it was you or him doing the bouncing. He didnât care. He did care about lapping at your neck, grazing his teeth over your windpipe.
âFuck⌠Hector!â You laughed, speaking quietly despite the situation. You sped up a little, making him let out a pathetic yelp. âArenât you glad you stuck around?â
âMy loveâ you, oh, godââ He whined, shocks sparking through him every time he bottomed out within you. âYouâre so, so good to me⌠for me⌠thank you, thank you, thank youâŚâ His ability to speak so eloquently was almost rendered completely null under your body, stolen from him with beautiful eyes and enveloping heat.
He was getting close, so close. But he couldnât cum. Not until he satisfied you. He brought a hand down between your legs, playing with your clit as you rode him. By the soft sigh that escaped you, he knew he was on the right track. You grabbed his chin and kissed him again, pushing him down to lay on his back again, then rolled over onto yours, pulling him on top of you. He gasped, fingers grinding down onto you as he rut into you, following the instructions that spilled from your commanding lips.
âGo slower.â
âSpeed up.â
âLike that. Youâre doing so wellâŚâ
Those words from you were almost enough to make him finish alone. âLet me please you, my loveâŚâ He whispered, almost whimpering against your throat. âMy beauty⌠its almost too much⌠I need to feel you fall into the depths of heaven under my touch. I need to know youâre reaching the heights of paradise with meââ He cut himself off by biting his lip, stopping a moan from escaping him. You cup his cheek, and he looks at you to be greeted by a soft, encouraging expression. He slowed down both his hand and his cock, eyes fluttering shut again as he leaned into your touch, taking a long, slow breath.
With a whisper of his name, you finally came, legs coming up to circle around his waist and draw him fully into you. The feeling of your body clenched around him, the look of silent ecstasy on your faceâŚ
You suddenly flipped him back over. He let out a surprised sound, that was quickly swallowed by your lips crashing into his. He could barely even process what was happening before you began to ride him with a brutal pace, every snap of your hips driving him to madness. He cried out unfettered now, and you didnât bother to stop him, sloppily fucking down into him like he was a damn toy. It was like this that he reached his own peak, throwing his head back in a scream of your name as he finished.
You rode him through his orgasm, slowing down to slow rolls down into him so he could enjoy the aftershocks of pleasure. He laid limp on the bed, going completely boneless for a long moment, an otherworldly sensation of relief and comfort washing over him. You leaned down to kiss his cheek, his forehead, his jaw, all of him. He slowly came to, and as soon as he did he rolled you onto your side, burying his face in your chest. You withdrew from him, and he held you tighter, both of you trying to catch your breaths.
It was a long time until either of you were able to move again. You slowly detangled yourself from him with an exhausted groan, stretching out your limbs. He sat up, running a hand through his hair. He watched as you calmly gathered your clothing, then threw his to him.
âMy love⌠oh, no no noâŚâ He said through ragged breaths. âI canât go backâ they must have heard us.â
âSo?â
âSo?!â He dangled his legs off the edge of the bed, taking panicked glances over at the door. âArenât youâŚâ
You moved over to kiss the tip of his nose, grinning down at him. âIâm not ashamed of you.â
Your words sent a warm shudder through him. And he found himself smiling back, standing up to press a proper kiss to your lips, though this one was much shorter and much lessâŚ. Intense. âThen⌠okay.â
You practically dressed each other. He did the buttons up on your shirt while you tried to fix his hair. He was sure he looked quite frazzled, sweaty. He took a glance in the mirror, and a few bite marks peaked out of the collar of his shirt. He ran a hand over them as you opened the door and stepped out. He grabbed his discarded drink and quickly downed it, needing the alcohol to kick in quickly and distract him from his nerves.
The sight of you high fiving Betty and Ben-Hwa just then made all the blood rush to his cheeks. He made a note to stay for the afterparty. He had a few choice words he needed to say to you, all of them pleading.
Synopsis: Going in for a study on the effects of massages in humans, you expect it to be a free, six hour study of alleviated knots in your back and legs. When four alien researchers stroll in, however, youâre entirely unaware of what their study actually consists of. Theyâre studying massaging effects on the entire human body. The ENTIRE body.
Warnings: dead dove: donât eat - nsfw content with dub-con/non-con of sexual scientific tests; medical/scientific kink, reader is restrained to an exam table, clothing cut off, âaccidentalâ sexual stimulation under the guise of a human anatomy study (but the aliens know what theyâre doing), clinical speak/terms used, reader is sorta forcibly gagged at one point (too loud for the recording), sorta consensual recording but also sorta not, nipple stimulation, clit stimulation, g-spot stimulation, a few clit pinches, fingering, like half a second of anal fingering (but only once), massagers used on nipples, clit, and internally, reader is trying not to react/trying not to cum to give away what theyâre doing to her, edging and purposeful denial feigned in ignorance; itâs in the readerâs POV but it does jump to the aliensâ at the end to see their pervy intentions & enjoyment of making humans aroused; implied: multiple orgasms, vaginal fucking with a vibrator on a massage gun, overstimulation, and orgasm torture for later parts of the study.Â
Word Count: 4.4k
A/N: From a prompt left on the kinktober form with some alien shenanigans. Itâs all smut. If you vibe with âoh no, iâm trapped, and these sexy aliens are unaware theyâre making me hornyâ, then this storyâs for you :)
There was so much white. The entire room was monochrome in the same shade, bundling you up in the sterile space. The only color came in the red restrictive straps necessary to accurately complete each step of the study.
Lights hung bright over the ceiling, nary a shadow in sight. Your shirt and pants sat haphazardly folded on the single chair in the corner, your shoes and socks beside it. A gown or a robe was too restrictive, so the nurse helped you onto the examination table in just your bra and underwear.Â
A study of human anatomy. How did human reactions vary to massage-like stimuli across the body? The entire research study was just a free massage with your name on it. Who would say no to that?
The examination table was padded with a memory-foam-esque material that seemed to mold perfectly to you. It had offshoots for your legs, keeping them parted for the incoming researchers to have easier access to your inner thighs and calves. Red straps were padded enough and done over your ankles and up to strap your hips down over each one, preventing your thighs from twitching closed at all.Â
Up by your arms, the table was much of the same. Diagonally out like a y. Hands above your head, just not directly next to it. The red straps went over your wrists securely and then crossed upwards in an X formation over your palms. They sufficiently kept your hands forced open and back. Two more went just above your armpits, thinner, yet the most movement they allowed was a push back of your shoulder blades.
Restrictive, yes, and a little nerve-wracking. But the aliens administering the study were known for their lack of nonsense, and they followed a strictly analytical mindset. A few hours of them poking and massaging, and you'd be walking out on shaky legs, free of any and all knots in your body. It really was the perfect trade.
When the white doors split, four men appeared in pristine white lab coats. Standing tall with varying skin, hair, and eye colors completely out of the human variety, they came into the room holding various things.
One pushed a tall silver table covered with a white, gauzy blanket. It rolled without so much as making a sound beyond that simple wheel-to-flat-floor hum. The second maneuvered some sort of large device with a screen on the top. The third had two circular devices, one in each hand. The final simply had a file.
âGood morning, Ms. (Y/L/N),â the fourth said, opening your file without much more than a look your way.
The doors shut behind them and latched with a loud click. The table was rolled up beside you, multilayeredâit seemedâand that rolling computer-esque machine was settled in just past it. Buttons were pressed. Wires hanging from the side were slowly unraveled with sticky pads on the ends.
Those circular things had buttons on the side that were pressed, and a quiet whirring came before they simply hovered into the air.
âWe will record the session for purposes of reexamination of the data. The machine beside you will monitor the necessary vitals. We will adjust as needed.â
Adjust?Â
Recording?Â
The two spheres parted ways as if following his words like a command. The sticky pads were placed along your arms, over your chest, two over your stomach, two on your inner thighs, and then one each on the bottom of your feet. Wires dangled from those at your inner thigh and above your underarms, but the rest seemed to have wireless transmitters. More buttons were pressed on that machine, and you merely nodded along as one sphere hung at your feet and the other hovered above your face.
It was easier to see the black glass encapsulating most of it held at least one lens behind it. A very dainty red light began to blink.
âThe tests will go across the entire human body. Please try to keep still and only speak if there is pain. We will begin now.â
Not quite whiplash, but the lack of a lead-in gave little time to prepare. The table beside you still remained covered while the four researchers walked around you. They settled into positions, two on either side of you up by your arms, two more by your legs, clipboards out, pens in hand, the cameras coming in to scan over you.
Okay.Â
A free massage.
Great.
They started on your arms, poking, pressing, and massaging in momentary circles from just underneath your wrist and syncing each touch down over your forearms, the inside of your elbow, down to the inside of your arm. The skin was sensitive and tender, but they did not change the weight of their touch or their movement. It remained the same when they touched your armpits, too, and you jolted. Not exactly tickling, but just enough. They repeated it twice there again, making your breath hitch, and you squirmed as much as the straps allowed, but you didn't do more than push that hitched breath out.Â
They carried on lower. The machine beeped steadily, but whatever was on the screen, you couldnât see it. They moved it just to a neck-craning position that didnât matter. Two long, warm fingers began massaging over the swells of your breasts. The cup of your bra remained where it was, but the touch was still sensitive.
A light pulse hit your clit, but it mustâve just been from the massage. Relaxing. Just relaxing.
Their fingers skimmed over the cups of your bra on their way down to your sides and stomach. Purposeful and analytical massages came in again. They pressed into that tender spot on your sides, and you jolted again. It still wasnât enough to tickle, but you thrashed a little in the straps.
âSubject has tender spots in the typical places noted on humans,â one said.Â
The two at your legs scribbled something down.
Along your hipsâaround those strapsâthey massaged. The aliens with the clipboards moved back a step, giving way for those fingers to find your upper thighs, first going down to your knees and then beginning a slower, almost more careful path up on your inner thighs. Pushing them against the straps, inadvertently pushing them open. Fingers digging into the skin growing more and more sensitive as they got higher.
It was just the massage that was doing it. The knots they were working out. But your clit still thrummed as those warm hands stopped just shy of your cunt. The inner thigh portion done, and their warm fingers splayed over the tops of your thighs.Â
âPatientâs inner thighs are more sensitive than the average humanâs. Note a return to see if that sensitivity remains with the continuation of tests.â
Next came where they could get at your calves. Then, it was the bottom of your feet, making your eyes roll shut when they worked out a particularly hard knot in both.
âBasic extremities complete. Furthering standard responsive test. Please, remain still. We must momentarily remove your clothing for this portion.âÂ
Whatâ?
The cups of your bra were an easy fold. Staring right into the lens of the camera, a stutter in your heart, slender fingers tucked the cups of your bra beneath your breasts. The flash had them moving with the flinching, shaky breath while the two aliens administering the tests put a breast in either hand and squeezed, slightly groping and slightly massaging at the same time. The rough pad of their gloveless hands brushed against your nipples, and it was an inadvertent response.Â
They tightened.
âPatientâs nipples have hardened,â one said.Â
The two with the clipboards scribbled.
The camera stayed in your face as the hover hovered over your mid-section.
It wasâŚjust part of the study. It made sense. They needed to study all of you.Â
Their hands cupped up underneath, pushing your breasts up as their other hands came forward. Like a bolt of lightning from your breasts all the way down to your inner thighs, your breath hitched loudly when they both closed their fingers around your nipples and began to roll them. Rubbing them with a steady pressure, pulling then releasing, massaging the underside of your breasts in the process.
That bolt of lightning spread out, and your shoulders pushed back without meaning to, but your nipples were sensitive as they were, and every touch was just working that up to a dangerous point. It was just a study. Your mouth fell open on an almost-moan, but you kept it a muffled sigh.Â
Your thighs began to quiver when they pinched them again.Â
The end of that lightning bolt struck your clit.
It was fine. It was just for the study!Â
âThe patientâs thighs have begun shaking,â one noted by your legs. âPerhaps a reaction of pain?âÂ
Those with their hands on your nipples both tilted their heads and watched you. Not pain. Not that bad kind of pain, anyway, but it wasnât important. They didnât need to know the exact betraying reason. So youâ
Both closed their fingers around your nipples significantly harder. Your toes curled a little at the sudden pinch, your back arching, and a small gasp making itself audibly known.Â
"Perhaps pain. Does it hurt?" another said, looking down at you without blinking. Without wanting them to hear how shaky your breath was, you simply shook your head. "Not pain. We will return focus there in the next test. We will continue the final portion of this test first."
Wait.
That wasnât exactly what youâd expected when you shook your head. Should you have said yes? And the final portion, hold on.
The camera stayed in front of your face while the other hovered lower between your legs. Right at yourâoh. Two fingers did not wait to run over the front of your underwear. Down all the way to where you felt yourself clench subconsciously, and then back up to where they seemed to accidentally find your clit with horrible precision.
"Studies speak of excessive nerve endings here. We will be gentle."
Gentle with?
Your heart stuttered as two pairs of scissors were lifted out from underneath the cloth across the nearby table. With wide eyes, the long, thick shears brushed cold against your hips. Parallel with the straps holding you down, they went from one side to the other. And with one cut, your underwear justâŚfell.
That was it.
You stared past the camera, down over yourself, with your heart pounding as one of the scissors snuck up underneath the center of your bra and cut clearly through it. At your straps, too.
The clipboards were set down, your bra was pulled away, and you watched in building confusion as they gathered around your hips. Was itâŚ? It was part of the test. Thatâs all. Yeah. Yeah. You swallowed hard as two reached forward and, without ceremony, simply parted your cunt and held you spread.
âShe is secreting something wet,â one said, and heat slammed into your cheeks.
"Keep note. We will return to further study if it continues and see what triggers the response." The two not touching you leaned over you, standing adjacent to each other, of sorts. One stood by your hip, the other across from them, but not directly, pressing up against your thigh while leaning over you. "That small bud keeps twitching. Perhaps the nerves gather there. I will see where the secretion originates from."
Oh, fuâ
One light brush of a finger touched your clit. Like it was toggling a switch. Back and forth, pressing up and down, back and forth again. Your eyes widened and you stared up at the ceiling, trying to keep as still as possible. The pressure was just light enough that you could keep motionless, but itâŚyour clitâŚ.
âIt continues to twitch under contact. Perhaps it is similar to their nipples.â
As one closed their thumb and forefinger around your clit, making your stomach sink and twist as they barely rolled your clit between them, one finger skated over your entrance. Rubbing. Poking at it just enough to breach your insides. And as the one on your clit pinched, the other pushed their finger slowly inside of you.
Your head pushed back with the shuddering moan that left you, and your entire body clenched down to your cunt.
"I have found where she is secreting from. It is a lubrication of sorts. My fingers can go deeper, and she seems to be having an internal reaction when you touch her clitoris. Pause momentarily. I will explore further to see if there is any reaction internally."
What started as shallow thrusts of their finger began to push deeper. Slow strokes as if he was scared you might bite back. Strokes that his long finger kept giving you with every removal before pushing back in to give you more. Knuckle by knuckle. All three watched as he went in entirely, your thighs shaking again as he wiggled his finger around inside of you.
âShe is warm and wet, and the gummy walls flutter.â He reangled his hand, still wiggling it, andâno. His finger brushed against your g-spot, and you moaned again. âThere seems to be another sensitive spot. I will apply a massage-like sensation. Continue on her clitoris. Perhaps there is a connection?â
Yes, there was. You couldâve told them that, but were you supposed to tell them it aroused you? Oh, God.
On your clit, the other alien started rubbing light circles. The camera got closer to your face, and you saw your flustered reflection in that black glass. Blinking at yourself, watching how you squirmed on the table, the attention between your clit and g-spot had you writhing.
âPlease keep still, Ms. (Y/L/N). The massage will be over momentarily. We are simply testing,â one said, actively pulling the hood back on your clit. âOnce this portion is finished, we will massage your anus, and then begin the next round.â
Yourâ?
Wait.
The hum of the lens zooming in filled your ears. The hovering camera sat between your legs as the researcherâs one finger inside of you curled and started slowly massaging your g-spot. Circular, precise pressure that had your knees bending and legs trying to lift up from the examination table. It matched the slow strokes over your clit, and your whole body began to tremble.
No, no, no.Â
âThere is convulsing.â More pressure went to your g-spot. No. No.Â
âYes, and look at how her clitoris twitches.â Pressure alleviated from your clit, and the camera hummed again. All four hmmed while your back arched. "That is enough. Noting there is a bodily reaction. We will return to massaging here in the next round. Please begin the same on her anus so we may continue. Ms. (Y/L/N), you seem to be shaking. Are you cold?"
Cold? So they reallyâŚ. They didn't know? You laughed softly with a burn sinking deeper into your cheeks. Sure, you were shivering, but it hardly had anything to do with the cold air pumping through the equally spaced vents above you.Â
You shook your head. âNo, Iâm not.â
You couldnât tell them what they were doing then. It was justâŚa study of massages. So youâd hang on for the studies. Theyâd massage there a little more, and thatâd probably be it.
The one finger pulled out of you. The fingers spreading your cunt moved lower, and you closed your eyes as you were spread again. Empty and quivering, that wet finger moved lower. Chewing on your bottom lip, it brushed against you, and with just the slightest pressure, it massaged in slow, small circles.Â
âShe continues to quiver,â the researcher noted. âThere is sensitivity. Please ready the tools for the next test. I will continue to test sensitivity.â
Tools? Oh, God. There was slightly more pressure, and your head pushed back. The camera stayed in your face, only briefly doing a detour to go higher, scanning your entire body, then returning to focus on your facial expressions.Â
Beside you, the covered table became uncovered, and your stomach clenched right into the added pressure that suddenly breached your asshole.
"Inadvertent entrance," the researcher stated, pushing into your asshole with a slight stretch, probing in and out with minuscule movements, before removing his finger. "I will wash. Continue the next test."
On the table were a line of personal massagers. Nothing inherently sexual. Some looked like guns with an end protruding to pound. Others were small and egg-shaped and oval-shaped with a flared handle to hold onto. Four were long and slender with round, concaved ends. Running water ran from somewhere you couldnât see as three of the four were passed around. A button on the end made them come to life with a whirring that made your stomach stop.Â
âTesting light vibrations across the body,â one said.
And together, the three of them began to trace and press the ends against your arms, feet, calves, stomach, sides. Three became four as the fourth researcher returned, and he began following suit. Over your stomach. On the inside of your thighs. Occasionally, they looked up at the monitor out of sight, watching while honing in on where there was a knot, and you started to relax.
The thrumming in your clit faded. Lying there naked was almost an afterthought.Â
Until all four moved in opposite directions.Â
"Testing nipple and clitoral stimulation. In theory, since the nerves have already been stimulated, they should not have such reactive sensitivities. Press and hold for ten seconds and then lift."
As his words caught up with you, hands pressed your upper half flat. Another abandoned his massager and bared your clit. Against both nipples and down firmly against your clit, the circular ends seemed to wrap around them, swallowing them up with every low vibration.
Oh, noâ
You thrashed. Slamming your head back, the immediate touch of the toyâs tip to your bared clit was too much. Even that low, you pulled at the ungiving straps, cunt convulsing, shoulders pressing back as they held the other two at your nipples.
"It seems there is still sensitivity." All four looked over you with tilted heads.Â
âAnd she seems to be actively secreting that wet substance all over herself.â
A finger gathered it up, and just as it pushed into you, guess the ten seconds were up. The massagers lifted. The finger curled inside of you, holding you against the pad of his finger.Â
âI will plug her as to prevent a mess and to study her convulsions,â he stated. âContinue with the test.â
The other three nodded, and you chewed your lip as the massagers were lowered both to your nipples and clit for another ten seconds.
Off.
Then another ten.
Off.
âShe continues to convulse around my finger rapidly.â
Ten seconds.
Off.
"And she thrashes. What is ailing you, Ms. (Y/L/N)? It is a simple massage. It should not muster this sort of physical reaction."
Ten seconds of eye-watering, clit aching torture.
Then, off.
"She leaks around my finger. But given the reaction earlier, I wish to attempt another round of massaging within her." His finger curled against, and all your failed attempts at staying quiet failed again. Another moan fell out of you as he started massaging your g-spot again. Steadily. Softly. "The nerves here are sensitive. It makes little sense." His finger pumped into you with a horrific squelching. "I feel we should focus our tests to these sensitivities. That is not a problem, is it, Ms. (Y/L/N)?"Â Â
What? Sweat dripped down your back while you panted. Staring past the camera, seeing where the on massagers were hovering right over your aching nipples, right past the one waiting to press back to your clit, you saw where his finger continued to pump into you.
âIt is imperative to our study that we understand the ways of the human body. We must continue forth with the tests.â
âI,â you started. âIf you wantâŚ. I mean, IâŚ. I can tell youââ
âNo.â One hand pressed to your forehead and pushed your head back down. âWe cannot be skewed by personal bias and information. Allow us to continue the tests. Please.â He nodded down at his associate. âCan you attempt a massage with the insert? I wish to see if it has the same effects as it does on her clitoris. If it is so sensitive, it should react as such.â
The hand on your forehead fell, and a new strap came over you. Around your mouth. One finger guiding your mouth open and stuffing a hard ball between your teeth. The other researcher clasped the strap in place, and you were stuck.
Panting.
"Since you seem to continue with the noise, we must silence it ourselves for the recording. Please, continue." He handed the other the discarded massager. "Camera One, focus in on the facial and upper body reactions. Camera Two, zoom in on where her clitoris has swollen under the stimulation. Her body seems to twitch and writhe even without such contact. We will continue the ten-second hold once the internal spot of such sensitivity is found. Do you think it is possible for humans to simply get knots inside themselves that need to be worked out? I cannot fathom another reason for this."
âYes,â the one said, slowly pushing the massaging into your cunt with his finger still inside, the stretch making your back arch. It doesnât feel good. It couldnât feel good. The round endâoffâpressed where his finger had been massaging. "Humans get stressed. Knots form anywhere. Her clitoris seems to have a direct association with this knot inside of her, so we will continue as we were, with extra focus on this internal knot. I will see if it can be massaged out like any other. Begin."
The massager clicked on while the others lowered, and the direct stimulation altogether had you screaming into the gag. Ten on. Off. Your cunt clenched. Ten on. Then off. You dripped down onto the floor. Ten on. Off again. The researcher began to make circular motions against your g-spot, really massaging in that vibrating end right against it. Directly.Â
For ten long, throbbing, clenching seconds.
At the edge of an orgasm that slowly found its way toward you.
Dripping out of you, waiting for the next ten seconds, but next falling over the edge.
Ten on.
Then off.
The red lights of the cameras mocked you.
Unfortunately, you didn't know. There were already notes scribbled in your file and on those clipboards. The pads connected to your body were extra assistance, not just there to read basic vitals, but they went beyond. Deeper, to where the massager was pushed inside of you, tormenting your g-spot over and over and over in an endless ten-second cycle.
Dozens of test subjects gave them the answers they already knew, but watching humans writhe and thrash was fascinating. It was all relatively the same. Some had more interest in varying massages, and that was their real test. One of many. They kept the pleased smiles from their faces while you tensed up again at the end of those ten seconds, making a horrible mess on their table and floor.
Ten seconds was your limit. Said the studies. Said the machine. They could massage as they wanted, watching you try not to react to every overstimulating touch to your erogenous zones. But you would not climax. They didnât want you to, yet.
Humans were so much fun to explore, and you were hanging on quite well for the circumstances.Â
They had you for six hours.
A six-hour-long study was not so tedious when you were expected to simply lie back and have the knots worked out of you from head to toe.Â
The aliens lowered the massagers back to your nipples and poorly overstimulated clit, pushing up and rubbing against your g-spot to âwork out that knotâ as promised.Â
Ten. Nine. Eight.Â
You started trying to lift your hips again, your cunt clenching around where his finger pushed the tip right against your g-spot inside of you. Your climax was close, and the camera hovered around your face while your whines and hitched breaths were muffled on that gag.
Seven. Six. Five.
Your asshole fluttered, and your shoulders pushed back. Tears streaked out from the corner of your eyes.
Four. Three. Two.
The four aliens pushed harder onto your nipples, clit, and g-spot.
One.
Your climax almost broke over, but they retreated.
Your whole body heaved with your breaths. A broken tremor taking over involuntarily. It was fascinating. Humans were such slaves to their arousal. You lay without protest. Lay in such embarrassment that you allowed the test to continue.Â
One alien let a smile show as they tightened the straps on your arms. Another looked around in amusement, pulling the massager back to show how your puffy clit twitched for more attention so the ache would finally alleviate.
âI cannot seem to work the knot out at this strength. I propose we move to the second level. Lower ten seconds to five.â
All nodded their heads in cold, emotionless agreement.
Each pressed the button to turn up to the medium setting.
âBegin.â
You gasped behind the gag and tried to close your legs.
The first three hours, they would enjoy testing the human limitations of such sexual denial. It would overstimulate you, yes, but it was a necessity for the second portion of the study. Where they would understand that the knots cannot be worked out traditionally, and since you derive such overwhelmingâwhat they can only assume to beâpleasure when they do âaccidentallyâ allow you to cum, well, they must recreate it.
Endlessly.
The second shelf hidden on that cart held a large, phallic end that vibrated. A discovered enjoyment from previous studies. It would attach to the pulsing gun. With twenty power levels to scale up to, they would slot it inside your cunt, and every nine minutes, they would increase the intensity. Without pausing.
They lifted the massagers away from you while you continued to shake, right at the edge of your orgasm once again. Pulling on the restraints, heaving, gushing all over yourself.Â
Humans truly were the most fascinating species to study.
Your eyes rolled back into your skull as the five seconds blurred together, and that building orgasm stayed on its edge. It was just a massage study. They didnât want bias. So you bit down on the gag when the next five seconds began, and tried to fight your orgasm.
This wasnât going to be the entire study, was it?Â
They rubbed the massager over your clit with quick strokes for the next five seconds, and you screamed.
Tony teasing you for being so spent from being fucked by him to the point you barely have any strength to move your limbs in bed by saying something in the veins of âTold ya I can hammer it wellâ or something like that
God, imagine him saying it with that hot af Brooklyn accent of his 𤤠also do you think Tony likes hitting it from behind fhe most?
-đ
Heâs so hot!! Tony and Timmy are literally my only consistent favorites (i think i said this before but iâll say it again) his accent is literally my favorite thing everđđđ Tony loves fucking you from the back, especially pulling out while youâre face is still buried in the pillows, ass in the air. Heâll slap your ass, groping and spreading the fat so he can watch his own cum drip down your inner thighs.
âOhh, look at that, sweetheart.â Tony grins, or so you assume, as he marvels at the sight of your sloppy pussy, âBig Tony did a number on her, didnât he?â He uses one of his thumbs to spread your lips apart, watching with an odd mix of fascination and pride as you whine and kick weakly at him.
it's common knowledge that almost, if not every, object in this house has heard you touch yourself. you moan unabashedly, your shaking whines bouncing off the walls of your seemingly barren abode, however when you met skylar all of that changed. since you met her, and found out that you weren't as lonely as you thought, you rarely had time to touch yourself anymore.
your 'alone time' had come to a screeching halt. even when you did have time, you felt too paranoid to even look up anything, lest phoenicia or mac tease you for it. the thoughts started to keep you up at night, keeping you tossing and turning from a mixture of guilt for the noises and the messes, and embarrassment for being so shameless... even though this was your own house to begin with.
unbeknownst to you, this pause in your masturbation was driving a certain shadow up. the. walls. skips' chest felt tight every time your moans would grace his ears, his shuddering breaths falling in time with yours while he imagined how beautiful you look with your fingers slick with desire. he was so, so achingly jealous of betty. she got to hear, feel, even see everything in far more detail than anyone else. no matter, he'd have you to himself soon.
he was so giddy when you used the dateviators on him, he almost had to slap the excitement out of himself to conceal his image. the process of regaining all his spectral arms took much longer than he originally anticipated, the other objects in this house having you run this way and that to solve their problems. skips noticed what the others didn't though, how your patience was running short, how stiff your body had become, but he could fix that all very soon.
finally regaining all of the spectral arms, he was terrified that you'd turn him away, worried that all his allure was lost. to his delight, you reassured him with a gentle touch to his upper arm, a touch that you thought nothing of. skips however, felt a tent start to pitch in his pants as soon as your fingers caressed him. strangely enough, he felt envious of the jacket he was wearing, as it directly felt your skin.
he plead with you to keep coming back, to spend more time with him, and out of the kindness of your heart, you did. every time you came back he had to remind himself that this wasn't a dream, and that you were finally here with him. it didn't take long for him to start acting like a lovesick puppy, barely more than two feet away from you at all times. the sudden clinginess wasn't really unexpected on your end, but even still it was welcome.
one day, sitting in that pitch black space with skips, you were rambling about your frustrations. for the first time in a while, you felt free to talk without judgement. even though the empty space had scared you at first, it soon became a place of peace, a place where you could breathe without prying eyes. skips, of course, listened attentively, nodding and humming along as you spoke - words surrounded with an air of impudence.
"i don't even have the time to jerk off anymore, it's so fucking annoying!" the words fell from your lips before you could catch them, your palm slapping against your mouth as your eyes went wide. obviously you knew he heard you before, but your attempt to maintain any sense of modesty had been shattered. skips didn't judge you, not that you thought he would.
with soft words and gentle reassurances, he helped you calm down, a large hand settling on your shoulder to ground you. after you caught your breath, you noticed a slight glow in his cheeks, that neon yellow now being a familiar sight. tilting your head in curiosity, you urged him to speak up. skips' heart was hammering against his chest, and the urge to sink into the shadows and hide there was greater than ever, but he couldn't just let this opportunity pass him by.
"iâ" he stuttered, choking on his own spit before awkwardly clearing his throat. "i could help you, if- if you want, of course.." it took a moment for you to process what exactly he wanted to help you with, your face growing hot with realization. you shook your head, hands mirroring this motion as you fumbled over your own explanation. you couldn't possibly, after all this was something you usually handled on your own.
before you could even finish telling him that you were 'fine' and that you 'could deal with it a later time', he had already taken his jacket off, folding it up and placing it on the floor beside you. with a heavy swallow, you lifted your hips from the floor (?), and sat on his jacket. skips crouched beside you, eyes flitting to yours as his finger hooked under the waist of your shorts, his gaze letting you know you could back out at any time. you nodded, weight falling back against your elbows as you lifted your hips again to aid him.
he moved in front of you as he guided the material down your legs, sucking in a hiss through his teeth when his hard made contact with you. he wanted to tease you, to slowly drag them down your thighs, to really take his time with you, but his own eagerness got the better of him. you barely had time to process that your shorts were actively being taken off, before they were already off and sat next to you.
he took the back of your knees into his palms, spreading your legs for him like it's what he was meant to do. his cock throbbed against the fabric of his jeans at the sight, the wet spot in your panties spurring him on more. lowering himself in front of you, the way he brought your legs above his shoulders was eerily natural. skips' hands dragged up your thighs, settling on the apex of your hips.
his mouth watered, each breath he took in shaking more than the last. the sight of you was enough to get him drunk, but the smell? oh my god, he truly was a filthy pervert. he took a deep breath in through his nose, exhaling from a small 'o' in his mouth, shuddering in glee from the way you squirmed. the smell of your sex made him moan, eyes practically rolling to the back of his head as he did so.
with no hesitation, he licked a warm, wet stripe through the thin material, hips rutting into the floor with fervor. your stomach flexed, a choked gasp escaping your lips. his fingers dug into the meat of your hips, eyes closed and brows furrowed as he continued to ravish you. even through the thin fabric he could taste you just fine, but he soon grew impatient. groaning into your heat, he pulled away, much to his dismay.
before you could even question his actions, he tore the material, the sound echoing throughout the empty space. you looked at him in awe, complaints dying on your tongue as he delved back into your heat. he moaned loudly, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine. "'m sorry-", he mumbled into your cunt, "couldn't wait any longer."
like a starved man, he ate you out, not daring to spill a drop. his tongue circled your clit before he cupped his lips around it, sucking on the bud with a steady rhythm. breaking away for air, he planted a gentle, if not teasing, kiss to your cunt, offering a soft hum in response to your whines. he brought his right hand from your hip, thumb immediately rubbing circles onto your clit. your legs clamped around his head in response, nails digging into your palms, the pain in your elbows immediately overshadowed by pleasure.
skips' tongue dragged up and down your folds, briefly dipping into your core before returning to his ministrations. with the way he was going at it, it was like he was getting paid every time you came. he was humping the floor at this point, every quiver of your body making threatening to tip him over the edge, but he made himself wait. he'd only cum when you did, it wouldn't feel as good otherwise.
his boxers were so terribly sticky, filled with his white. he moaned and whined into your cunt, his left hand gripping your hip in a bruising grip, your third orgasm of the night building in your stomach. fighting your wants, you pushed his head back, the action taking much more effort than you thought it would. he looked up at you with doe eyes, chin covered in your slick as he whimpered in confusion. the sight made your heart flutter, and your core subconsciously flex around nothing, which skips did in fact notice.
"i wannaâ i want to cum around you, please.." your request came out much more mousy than you originally intended, chest heaving as you spoke. skips stared at you for a moment, almost like you were speaking in another language. fuck, he could've cum in his pants just from hearing you say that. as much as he wanted to, wanted to split you open, to hump you like an animal in heat, this was about you. he shook his head, cheek resting against your thigh as he looked up at your flushed face. "not this time, i wanna focus on you, so let me, please."
and with that, he lost himself in you once again, making you cum until you couldn't stand it anymore. well.. at least he promised you a next time, right?
â đ â¤ď¸ď¸ ࣪ Ë
this is how i interpret skips' little shadow space .... sorry if it's inaccurate idrc LMAO, anyway this one sux so bad i'm so sorry...đ˘ also my page isn't a safe space for emo/alt fetishists, as an emo person myself i find yall weird as fuck sorry not sorry :p
Love the idea of filming an old school 80's porno as a gift for Bodhi. I'm talking full commitment to the era and the aesthetic, Barry is doing your hair and makeup, you've borrowed a bunch of Lux's lighting equipment, Telly is helping with Camera direction (they've seen every major porno from the last 5 decades, he's basically a historian in this). You even enlist Macs help to find somewhere that can transfer it to VHS.
The end result finds Bodhi sitting on your lap on the couch as you jerk him off, his eyes glued to the sight of you in full 80's bombshell chic playing the lonely housewife before Tony's handyman character is bending you over every surface in the house. It's cheesy, it's tropey, it's era appropriate, and right before Bodhi cums you let him know you still have the costume if he ever wants a turn in front of the camera.
fucking. reporting hate speech now requires you to write two 100 character paragraphs? they put in a character minimum? tumblr if your "report bigotry and hate speech" system has this many fucking barriers, especially compared to reporting other types of content, it should fucking count as discrimination in itself. discerning what is hate speech is your fucking job, don't make me do it every single time.
part two to this little thing about eddie hearing you moan his name while you're with volt <3
You saw Eddie hesitate for a moment, an internal struggle between what he thinks he should be doing and what he wants to do so fucking bad. But when your eyes opened, when they met his, all willpower went out the window.
Stepping in the door and swiftly closing it, Eddie began to shed his vest, then his shirt on the way to the bed. You tried not to seem overly excited, but when his tongue swiped across his bottom lip while looking you over, you couldnât help but whine.Â
Voltâs lips were busy working on your shoulder, tongue and teeth coming to graze across your collarbone. Once Eddie was fully undressed, he slowly stroked his hardening cock with one hand as the other ran down your arm.Â
âCouldnât get enough today, huh?â He breathed with a smile. You tried to mirror it, but it was quickly replaced with a hiss as Volt pulled out of you.Â
Volt chuckled, quickly peppering a few kisses on your jaw. As he pulled away, Eddieâs eyes locked on his cock, the way is shined with a mix of you both. Volt only tilted his head and reached a hand out to his lover. Eddieâs eyes only flicked to Voltâs for a moment before he climbed onto the bed, quickly taking his cock in his mouth.Â
They both moaned, and though Volt was the one being pleasured, Eddie seemed to enjoy it more. Weakly, you pushed yourself up on your elbows to watch as Eddie hungrily licked every drop clean off Volt.Â
Though Volt let his head lull, he peaked at you through the mess of bright white hair around his face. There was a knowing look in his eyes, an I told you he would want a taste that made you attempt to press your thighs together.
Eddie noticed the shift, hand coming to stop you from closing your legs before he pulled off Volt with little grace. A rough hand wiped the saliva from his face as he turned to you, slotting himself between your legs to lay on top of you. The weight of him was crushing, and it was perfect.Â
Taking a moment to rake his gaze over all of your features, Eddie lingered on your lips before he settled on your eyes. There was amusement in his eyes behind layers and layers of admiration and lust.Â
You almost wanted to hide your face at the attention, but you were pinned in place. Taking your lip between your teeth, you let your head fall to the side as an attempt to collect yourself. However, Eddie wasnât having any of it.Â
Grabbing your jaw between his fingers, Eddie turned your face back to him, though it was more gentle than you both knew he could be. âWhat are you getting shy for? Thought you were moaning my name a minute ago.âÂ
Your eyes grew wide when you realized he knew all along, and Volt chuckled behind him, coming to sit beside your head. âI- I mean, I thought you didnât-â Your boys exchanged a look, that silent link leaving you out of the loop once again. You huffed, drawing both their attention back to you.Â
âSorry baby,â Eddie leaned in, ghosting over your lips. âI heard my name on those pretty lips, and I couldnât ignore that.âÂ
A loud moan was swallowed by him as he kissed you, but it was more like he wanted to swallow you whole. Eddieâs kiss was hungry, whatever restraint heâd been holding on to today long gone now. You tasted yourself and Volt as your hands clung to his arms, trailing up his shoulders and over the expanse of his back.Â
You sighed happily when you felt Voltâs fingers gently carding through your hair. Cracking an eye open to see him, he threw you a wink that made you smile into the kiss. Eddie began to rut against your thigh, just faint friction to keep him from losing his mind, though it only made you feel hotter.Â
Whines left you easily, small pleading noises that you werenât willing to break the kiss long enough to express. With a final nip to your lip, Eddie pulled away and looked down at you with hooded eyes, steel blue nearly black with want.Â
Raising up enough to press his cock to your entrance, you absentmindedly held your breath with anticipation. Eddie noticed and let out a sigh that was betrayed by his smile. âBreathe, sweetheart.âÂ
When he pressed into you, it was hot and blissful and right, so right. One of your hands left his back only to find purchase on Voltâs leg, because you needed both of them, truly. It was hard to keep your eyes open, hard to not fall recklessly into overwhelmed, but you focused on Eddieâs face, and the way he tried to keep his calm even with the blush in his cheeks spread out across his chest.Â
Volt leaned down close to you and spoke low, though Eddie could clearly hear. âHe looks so good like this, doesnât he, darling? I canât wait to watch him fall apart on you.â Your eyes were on Volt with affection, but Eddie also watched him with something closer to embarrassment that he relished in feeling.Â
With a shallow thrust into you, Eddie stole both of your attentions back. âWhat, youâre sitting this one out?âÂ
Leaning forward, Volt preened and shined in a way that he knew drew your lover crazy. âThat depends, how would you like me?âÂ
Eddie looked to you for an answer, one that Volt waited with baited breath for. With both their eyes on you, you struggled to find the courage to say what you wanted, but you figured it was a little late to care about modesty now.Â
âI- Volt, I wanna taste you.â You breathed, and both their eyes seemed to light up.Â
Sharing another glance, Volt leaned down to place a kiss on your swollen lips with a smile. âMy my, you truly are insatiable today..â
The next moment was shifting weights and movements until he was kneeling over you, pressing his cock down between you and Eddie, and you werenât the only one whose mouth watered at the sight. Your eyes were locked on Eddieâs as you opened your mouth to suckle at his head, then let your tongue run along the side of him.Â
The groan in Eddieâs chest was a near rumble, like thunder in the distance. You could feel him twitch inside of you, and also the tremble in his thighs from trying to keep himself still. Your mind was far too cloudy to feel shy now, not with the taste of Volt on your tongue and the warmth of Eddie in your cunt.Â
You pulled away for a moment, a breath. âNow whoâs being shy?â You teased, returning to lick at Volt with new vigor.Â
âFuck,â Eddie breathed. His hips stuttered for a moment, hesitation, before you saw the resolve in his eyes snap. With a harsh thrust, he leaned forward, tongue meeting yours on Voltâs cock as you both drew sound after beautiful note from Volt above you.Â
Eddieâs pace was as relentless as his love, and you both felt it. The pair of your moans traveled up Voltâs spine and he arched, struggled to keep his hips still. You worked him between your lips, pulling whines from Eddie every time your tongue brushed against his.Â
It was so much, too much, and it was fucking perfect. The three of you were connected, bound endlessly and it made you feel faint with love, something close to euphoria.Â
Curses fell from Eddieâs mouth, struggling to keep up the pace of his hips and mouth at once. He was quickly tumbling towards an end he wasnât ready to reach, but there was fuck all he could do to stop it.Â
You could feel it, Volt could hear it, see it, he knew his partner well.Â
âLive wire,â Volt spoke breathlessly, but still more put together than you thought he should have. You hummed as he ran his fingers through your hair. âLay back for a moment, would you?âÂ
You fell back boneless, welcoming air into your lungs as you watched Volt shift. Taking Eddieâs jaw in his hand, he turned his face from between you to towards him. Pressing his cock against his lips, Eddie welcomed Volt into his mouth eagerly. Holding his head still with his hand, Volt fucked into your partners mouth until Eddie came absolutely undone.Â
You tried to keep your eyes open, wanted to take in every movement, but as Eddieâs thrusts changed from calculated to desperate, the heat finally overtook your body and set you on fire. You came harder than you had yet today, and tears escaped you at the blinding light of it.Â
You could hear him, Eddie, the way he nearly growled as he stilled in you, but it was muffled by Voltâs length. It was all foggy, far away, but you werenât in a rush to get back. You floated effortlessly in the bliss of it all, knowing your boys would be there still.Â
When the static in your veins started to subside, you felt Eddieâs heartbeat against your chest before you felt your own. Then hands, callouses against your soft cheek and a more gentle touch running soothingly up and down your arm.Â
When you dared to open your eyes, you first saw Eddie. He looked wrecked, more so than you remember him looking before, and he smiled warmly at you. âHey baby,â He almost cooed, though there was a rasp in his voice.Â
A hum came from your side and you lazily let your head fall, finding Volt on his side and curled up against you. You were caged in and it was the most loving, safe place you could possibly be. Eyes fluttering closed, you sighed happily, content, with both your boys at once.Â
What date everything characters like you to call them in bed
Authors note: Wanted to write a little something since over recently played the game and LOVED it. These just include my fav characters. If anybody has any other characters theyâd like to have some headcannons of let me know. On that note Iâve never actually done a headcannon-esque post like this aha.
18+, fem reader, split: boys first then girls, obvs honorifics in some which come with power dynamics, strap ons, slapping, degrading etc.
Daisuke:
Sex for him has always been an intimate affair, and while you love that about him, and the powerful orgasms heâs able to rip from you with just his fingers, you start to approach him about trying out different things in the bedroom.
Heâs a little apprehensive at first, but is willing to hear you out. After all, his darling was brave enough to discuss this with him, heâd be a fool to turn you away.
So you both start small, his natural dominance bleeding through until he realises just how much he likes the control; dictating how and when you receive pleasure.
That is until he hears a "sir" in with your pleas. He swears he sees god when the word tumbles from your mouth, fingers stilling their relentless assault inside your gushing pussy for a moment before returning with vigor.
Now he uses it to his advantage, and it has become one of his favourite aspects of sex. He expects your obedience, a pretty bat of the eyelids and a "please sir" if you require something of him. If you forget yourself, a sharp grip on your jaw as he makes you look at his stern expression quickly has you correcting your mistake.
And when heâs fucking you, legs over his shoulders to ensure heâs as deep as he can get into your pussy, he has to control the throbbing urge to cum each and every time the honorific flies from your lips.
Dirk:
Oh girl heâs NASTY. FILTHY. SHAMELESS.
a lot of things you could call him would probably make his dick hard, but daddy really takes the cake here.
âWhoâs making this pussy so wet huh? Is it daddy?â He mutters into your ear, peeling your now ruined underwear down your thighs and groaning at how strands of slick still connect the fabric to your pussy.
You nod, looking at him over your shoulder and biting your lip at the name before he delivers a slap against your inner thigh.
âNot talking to myself here baby, câmon.â
âYou daddyâŚâ you say, fighting every instinct not to just push back against his face.
That name, it makes him growl every time. Makes him feel so fucking good. Giving your panties an obligatory sniff once heâs got them off you, he dives into feasting on your slick. Not before mumbling against your pussy âmake sure you keep saying my name baby.â
His cock throbs when you keep moaning it out, and then subsequently when heâs got you bent over and filled up, heâs making sure his hand has a tight grip in your hair so you canât muffle your pretty noises into the pillow. It never fails to bring a smile to his face when he remembers how shy you used to be, calling him that in such a soft tone he could barely hear it. Comparing that to now, your howls and screams for daddy to make you cum really is night and day. And he wouldnât have it any other way.
Volt/Eddie:
Oh volt loves being called Daddy. Thereâs something he finds so gentle about the title, loving the amount of trust you put in his hands. It matches him, being the more calm and soothing touch in your threeway relationship.
Whereas Eddie is rougher, more jagged around the edges. A lot of names work for him, but he likes the ones that connote a better sense of authority. Master or sir heâd say were his favourites, and trust me it doesnât matter if itâs Volt or you saying it, his dick twitches all the same.
âCâmon spark, you know you deserve this. Speaking back to me like a fucking brat.â
Eddieâs harsh tone is punctuated by slaps to your ass that mirror his sharp thrusts, your body jolting each and every time as you whimper out.
âHm? What was that?â He grits out, pulling your hair.
âI-Iâm sorry master.â
You get a grunt in response that you hope is a good thing, but your attention is diverted by a soft laugh from in front of you.
âOh heâs really putting you through your paces livewire.â
Voltâs voice always soothes in any occasion, but even moreso here. His strong hand comes to your face, gently caressing before pushing a thumb between your parted lips.
âHeâs so mean isnât he, daddyâll make you feel better afterwards.â
âVolt-â
âI know I know Eddie, you think Iâm too nice.â
âYouâre a pushover.â Eddieâs words nearly blur as he delivers a soft slap to your dripping cunt, your broken moan making both menâs cocks throb. âShe needs to learn.â
Betty:
I like to imagine that she usually took the bottom/submissive role in her previous encounters.
Thatâs just the way that she found her sexual experiences goingâŚthat is, until she heard you mutter the phrase âmommyâ to yourself one night, fingers rubbing your clit beneath her sheets.
And that phrase was still ringing in her ears when she had you on top of her, your plush thighs on either side of hers.
âLet mommy take care of you, sweet girl.â
If she was nervous trying it out, her tone certainly didnât give it away. And when your giggle and blush invite her to continue, she does so with enthusiasm. Telling you to be nice to mommyâs tits, to feel and suck of them until sheâs had her fill.
The enthusiasm makes her pussy throb with need as you gently moan around her nipples each time she refers to herself in that way. Thatâs when she knows the honorific is going to stick around.
Dasha:
âSurface topâ ⌠yeah.
This is gonna sound like a cop out but whatever name you want to call her, sheâs into. The one thing she gets off on is your pleasure, and if she sees that you want to call her a title, well sheâs honoured that you trust her so much as to let yourself become that vulnerable.
So she insists that you try them all. One night youâre crying out, stuttering âmommy itâs too muchâ as her tongue devours your pussy. Your thighs shake on either side of her head, your hips not knowing whether to push or pull, but no matter, her tongue swipes over your sensitive clit no matter what action you take. And all the while she coos into your slick that itâs okay, that mommy just wants to make sure her precious baby is taken care of, is throughly satiated.
Another night, youâre on your knees on the bed, rocking back on forth on one of your pink dildos as you plead with her.
âNo no.â She says, sternly without raising her voice. âYou must tell mistress what you require.â
Your pitiful little whine does make her smile slightly, even if she does feel slightly bad about depriving you of pleasure even if this was your request. But the gorgeous begs that spill from your parted lips make hers find a home between her teeth, the sight so tantalising erotic it nearly knocks her over.
She finds this experiment so fun that she researches more, and for a week you call her a different name each night. So many sweet pleas of âmissâ, âmaâamâ and even a choked out âdaddyâ spoil her for choice. So she decides to let you decide each day what you want. And if the name you want for that night is simply âDashaâ, then thatâs perfect in her eyes too.
Harper:
A girl thatâs tried them all (and then some), and to her nothing beats baby.
She always gets a rush when you coo that in her ear, her pussy gushing as you finger her lewdly in the way she loves. Her nails gripping at your wrist as she begs you to call it her again, for more more more.
All she desires is to be loved wholly and LOUDLY. So when sheâs riding your face, or bouncing on your strap, or eating you out, she wants you to be calling it her so the house knows who she belongs to.
And donât think she isnât returning the volume. Her biggest turn on is to call you daddy, the taboo nature of calling her girlfriend such a name turns her on just as much as the thought of others in the house hearing. The filth that pours out of her mouth is enough to make a stripper blush when you two are in a particular mood.
âYes daddy give it to me, give it to your baby yes YES oh god.â
When she locks her legs around your waist, burying the strap deeper inside you canât help but smile as you moan at the sight.
Lady Memoria:
How she find out what her favourite is isnât actually from you at all. Much to her dismay, itâs from Sophia.
Now she is hardly a prude, and has no ill wishes towards the dominatrix with whom she shares the attic, but the one night she heard cries of the safeâs latest wretch, feminine in tone.
âOh please mistressâŚâ
She paused, feeling her face flushing as she quickly busied herself with other things, determined not to eavesdrop any longer. But that titleâŚwell it did something to her, something unexpected.
Now when you came along she was desperate to try it, to see if it could translate from being a fantasy in her head to perhaps a reality. But she didnât want you to think she desired to strap you down and whip you, or do any of the other potentially harsh things that you may connote with such a name.
So after some talks, she showed you just how gentle a mistress can really be, how good a caring but firm hand can be.
âYes, thatâs a good pet. Youâre doing so well for mistress.â She coos down at you from her seat on the bed, her hand gently caressing your hair. Kneeling on the floor between her parted thighs, you gently lap at her pussy with your tongue, all the while trying to not be distracted by the vibrated humming away at your clit.
âKeep this up, and mistress will let you cum all over yourself. Think of how messy youâll be. Isnât that fun darling?â
Your moan against her pussy makes her breath stutter, biting her plush black lip. Her hand grows a little more forceful, slightly scratching your scalp as she angles your tongue precisely where she wants it.
Having brain rot about gale fucking tav on the altar to mystra in the tabernacle itâs consuming my mind itâs so hot
The defiant, triumphant look in Gale's eyes as he pins Tav down to the alter, not for Mystra, but for his damned self, ascension or not. The mortal sweat and thudding hearts heating the room in a way a Goddess could never, not because it's a technically difficult thing to achieve, but because they have no concept of it. The emotions that would war in him. Hatred. Lust. Perhaps pity.
And then Tav whines. Gale used to believe that happiness was having the whole world at his fingertips. He was a man in power, the top dog, for so long. But looking down at Tav, a glint of mischief behind their eye -- was this his idea, or theirs? -- Gale comes to the crashing, halting realisation that looking up to the Gods would never compare to looking down at Tav; Tav, who may only be a little part of a whole world, but the only part Gale can find himself bothered with regardless.
Feverent fucking would slow to a smooth grind. Sticking it to Mystra in these little defiances may be all well and good fun, but Gods, does he love Tav. Nothing else seems to matter bar that.
Wanna sit on Gales face. He talks too much, sometimes that wizard needs to be silenced, and the best way to do so? Make him give you oral, and I use the word make very loosely. We all know before you can even get the word out heâs jumping at the idea to show you just how practiced his tongue is.
But donât even be fooled that oral would shut him up. Oh heâll still be yapping away. Its every time he pulls away for air heâs groaning about how good you taste and how heâs learned some new tongue movements he wants to try. The master of magic and cunnilingus
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