big fan of the idea that Stark Industries starts selling basic household appliances once the weapons manufacturing gets dropped. SI toaster. SI curling iron.
But with this idea I also need there to be a “stark industries households” youtube channel that is, technically, an official SI channel. But it’s not in the slightest used for marketing or anything of the sort. Tony is the only one with the password and every video uploaded is tony going through how to use that machine.
Someone can’t figure out how to empty their damn fancy vacuum and they look up the model on youtube to figure it out, and are greeted by the CEO of the company doing a WILDLY informal tutorial on how to use it and common issues and such.
The videos are often shot by DUM-E or U. Tony often looks very disheveled, and sometimes there’s unrevealed projects just sitting out in the background. Tony acts like he’s talking to an audience of five people and usually there’s five or six videos uploaded back to back, CLEARLY shot in one sitting.
(Tony likes doing them because it’s a very simple way to ease the “Tony stark dead at ___” headlines without doing a damn press conference. The videos also make people a bit less intimidated by him, and he rarely gets to interact with his creations in an authentic way with an audience.)
Title: Decompression.
Pairing: ( Established Relationship ) Ryland Grace x Fem!Reader.
Rating: M. ( VERY NSFW, 18+ MINORS DNI, FEM REC, FACESITTING, MENTIONS OF PUBIC HAIR, LET THIS MAN FREAKING EAT. P*RN W/O A PLOT, OKAY MAYBE A LIL' PLOT. )
Words: 4.4 K.
Summary: Ryland hears about a certain... Position and he was a little nervous asking you to try it out.
☆Ryland Grace Masterlist☆
Ryland let out a long, weary sigh that seemed to carry the weight of stress alongside it as he tugged his tired, heavy body into the bed beside you. His body sank deeper into the mattress, tucking himself in comfortably right beside you. The jostling caught your attention as you watched the blonde get comfortable with another sigh escaping his pretty mouth, the sheets cool against your skin becoming a deliciously stark contrast to the warmth radiating from his body.
“Long day?” You murmured, voice nothing more than a low hum in the quiet room. Ryland’s eyes fluttered shut as you rolled from your back to your side, the movement intimate and sensationalized in his mind as you were moving closer to him. Propping your head up on your hand, the fingers of your other began tracing an idle circle on his chest, following the defined lines of his pectoral muscles under the thin fabric of his shirt, taking refuge in the steady, reassuring beat of his heart under your touch. You eyes were watching the mesmerizing movement of his sternum rising and falling with cascading breaths.
“Every day is long when you’re trying to wrangle in a bunch of 6th graders.” Came Ryland’s simple reply, his voice drawn and raspy with exhaustion. You frowned a bit at that as he managed a tired smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your forehead. Ryland let his fingers linger, tracing the curve of your brow in a sort of reverent dance before tucking the hair behind your ear. “But, it’s better now. Infinitely better with you here…”
That stirred you to snuggle in closer to your boyfriend, pressing a soft and fluttering kiss to the rough stubble of his jaw. The texture was prickly against you, your mouth curling into a small smile as he turned his head to look down at you, capturing your lips in a barely-there sort of kiss. “Hmmm… I’m glad I’m able to help you decompress a bit.” You whispered against his lips, breath warm against Ryland’s face as he shifted a bit beneath you.
Languidly, Ryland lifted his head up enough to capture your lips more ardently, relishing in the way that your head dipped to meet him half way. His fingers began playing against the skin of your arm, and there was something there under the surface of the moment. The shift in energy from one input to another as his mouth became increasingly more hungry against yours.
And between the heated kisses, dancing of tongues and prying fingers, you had managed to tug his shirt over his head, tossing it aside to be collected later, your hands splaying immediately to explore the warm skin of his chest. Ryland responded in kind, it was only fair, and who was he if not that? His fingers, not as graceful as yours, fumbled with the hem of your shirt ( his shirt, you were borrowing ) and tugged it off in one choppy motion caught between a few laughs.
You arched into his hands as Ryland trailed them up your body, letting his palms slide along your bare breasts for lack of a bra was your way to go to bed. His thumbs brushed against your nipples until they hardened under his touch. The sound of rustling hit the air as you were both eager to shed the remaining clothes until you were skin to skin.
“Hm…” The tension sparkled in the space between the two of you at the sound of Ryland’s deeper set voice. “Speaking of decompressing….”
“Mhm…?” You encouraged him, your fingers resuming their exploration of his chest, down his body to taper along the ‘V’ of his waist.
“W-well, I read about this… Thing.” He whimpered when you lightly played your teeth against the smooth skin of his neck, “A position.” The words came out in a rush. He was already sounding flustered, Ryland’s cheeks beginning to flush a very delicate and yummy shade of pink.
“A… position?”
There was a shuffling noise beneath the two of you as Ryland nodded his head nervously, drawing his bottom lip in between his sharp teeth in the very way that sent something primal through your brain. Something that tugged you to grab hold of it with your own teeth and drag him back in for another kiss. Your expression told him ‘go on’, your body eager against his in a wall of intense heat.
Ryland swallowed. Hard, so much so that you could audibly hear it in the quiet bedroom. “Uh.. It’s uh… O-one where… One person,” He trailed his hand up your arm, tickling along to your shouldercap. You shuddered, mouth hovering just above his as you threatened another kiss. “One person sits on the other’s face. For pleasure.”
And there it was.
You lifted your head up to look at him properly. He was adamantly avoiding eye contact, his pretty, pupil blown eyes focused on something just over your shoulder as he pressed his fingertips into the cushion of your skin, seeking refuge from it in lew of the sort-of-confession he just laid out into the air. A slow, mischievous grin spread across your face as the pieces fit together, as you unscrambled Ryland’s shaky voice.
“Oh really, now?” You teased, voice laced with the utmost sensual amusement that made the man under you squirm. “And where exactly did you read about his particular position, Dr. Grace? In that peer-reviewed journal you keep under your bed?”
Ryland sputtered, moving under you just enough to almost knock you over onto your back. You were almost positive his entire body was flushed a crimson red, visible even in the dim light coming from the nighttable lamp. He was going into acute panic, his eyes darting from their fixed position on the wall behind you, to your eyes for only a split second before trailing around the room, looking for something, anything that could lead to an actual explanation. He spotted his stack of books in the corner, affectionately named ‘the leaning tower of book-zias’ and decided on that.
“Research!” Ryland squeaked. “Research,” His voice came out more collected this time but still held a semblance of worry around the out-most edges. “For uh… Human… Anatomy studies?” He sighed hard, letting his head plop back against the pillow with a soft thump.
The laugh that spilled from your lips wasn’t one of judgement or cruelty, more of a melodic tinkling that Ryland felt fuzzy around as you quipped softly, “Human anatomy studies? Is that what we’re calling it now?” Your fingers began their descent against the skin of his chest once again, relishing in the sensation of the staccato beat of his rapid heart.
“No…” He admitted, folding faster than Ryland wanted to but… There was barely any fight in this one. You probably thought he was disgusting. “I just saw it somewhere and I was curious and I thought… Maybe if you… Wanted to try…”
His voice trailed off into nothingness, the embarrassment palpable and coming off every fiber of his being in droves. Oh yeah, he just totally ruined his chance at getting laid tonight. He reached a hand up and ran it through his semi-mused hair, still wet at the ends from the shower he took before bed. It was a nervous habit of his that you’d come to recognize while dating and it made your heart clench every time you saw it. With a small huff of a laugh, you propped yourself up on an elbow, looking down at him with a softened expression of admiration as the hand that had been so vicious in its movements against his chest moved up the curve of his thick neck to captivate around the stubbly hair of his jawline.
“You want to try it, don’t you?” You were pressing but you weren’t being mean about it. You knew Ryland too well, you knew the way his mind worked, the way that his curiosities often got the better of him. It just depended from time to time whether or not he vocalized those to you.
Ryland forced himself to meet your gaze, his entire nervous system telling him that uhhh hey, that might not be a good idea! But, he did it anyway. And despite the unspoken shame he was feeling, there it was. Right in the swirl of his dark blue eyes, still dilated to the point of losing color. The raw, unfiltered desire to experience something that piqued his interest, specifically with you. Only with you.
“Yeah…” He confessed like a cardinal sin, voice barely above a hush. “I--- I do… If you’d be okay with that. Consent is important, I don’t want you to---”
You replied not with words, but with actions as your head dipped down and captured his mouth in a kiss. Slow and intentional, Ryland’s eyes fluttered shut at it as your lips conformed to his perfectly, letting him know the silent affirmation of your trust in him and the desire to try something new. “We gotta make a deal though,” You murmured against him and shuffled a bit. “You’re going to have to tell me where you really heard about it.”
“Maybe.” Ryland uttered heatedly against your lips, his hands coming up to cup your face, his thumbs stroking your cheekbones as you smiled and allowed him to trace the expression for a few seconds. As if he were saying a reverent goodbye to you before you disappeared above him. “I’ll tell you later.”
“That a promise?”
“Maybe.”
He crinkled his nose at you as you began the task of shifting positions. You knew the basic concept of what the position foretold. Where you were supposed to be, Ryland already in his spot and waiting with anxiously baited breath as you chomped down on your bottom lip. Getting there, to where you needed to go, was a whole ‘nother story. The movement was less than graceful, it was an awkward tangle of limbs as you straddled Ryland’s chest, your knees on either side of his ribs, your hands resting on his broad shoulders for balance.
Ryland watched you with wide, wandering eyes doing what his instincts told him to do. His large hands came to rest on your hips, his slender flingers pressing gently into your skin to leave a trail of fire in their wake. Despite the heat, you felt a deeply rooted shiver in your spine as you looked down at him, the sensation of Ryland’s ragged breathing against your inner thighs causing you to stir and feel momentarily displaced.
He wasn’t looking between your legs yet, though he could smell you, the draw was so powerful that he found himself counting in his head to keep himself collected. Ryland was focused on the way you moved above him, the way you tried to keep hold of his eyes.
Ryland’s scientific mind, usually so precise and analytical, was overwhelmed. The sensory input alone was primal and dug into the deeper recesses of his brain to tickle along the edge of instinctual conquest. The scent of you came back to the forefront, a clean and intimate musk that was unique to you filled his lungs like the most delicious air, his restraint right at the cusp of collapse. He knew - God, Ryland knew it was a biological imperative, the body’s way to call to his brain in a way that made him feel powerless to ignore.
“A-a little closer?” Ryland shuddered a breath out of his mouth. He was holding on for you, the way you looked down at him with a deepened trickle of want. Ryland had been trying to hold on, maintain some sort of control, to be the composed man of science he always was---!
You nodded shyly, letting your hands leave his shoulders in favor of the headboard as you skidded your knees upwards. It was awkward. Even Ryland had to admit that as you hovered above him, trying to get your knees to settle comfortable on the uneven nature of the pillows and bed below before you managed to get them cupped around his head, Ryland’s strong hands aiding you as he dropped his touch from your hips to your thighs. The gaze that had been impertinent to your trust in him was broken, but as Ryland held your weight above him, you were trenched in the deeper aspect of it as a result.
It was a slow, almost scientific descent. Ryland’s eyes traveled down the enitre line of your body, over the bonier ridge of your collarbones where he loved to placed his mouth, over the fleshy bits of your breasts where he loved to squeeze and play, over the soft curve and fuzz of your stomach that was often trailed with hot, saliva slicken kisses until they reached their hungry destination. The air hitched in his throat, a choked and pitiful excuse for a sound that was a half gasp, half surrender.
All the nervous energy, the flustered embarrassment from the moments before evaporated, replaced by a deep respondent hum of pure, unadulterated awe. Because Ryland could see everything. The soft curls of your pubic hair framed your folds, and nothing about it was the sterile, smooth perfection from clinical diagrams. This was real, natural and profoundly beautiful. Ryland could see the delicate hue of your pussy, deepened with your arousal, the slight glistening of your wetness catching the lamplight and the almost fiery appearance of the fine hair. This was you, presenting yourself to Ryland like an offering, a secret shared now only between the two of you.
“A-are you ready?” You muttered from above, leaning your upper half against the headboard to give yourself more of a vantage point of what your boyfriend was doing.
He nodded wordlessly, almost positive that no rational words would even form. As you lowered yourself onto his face, Ryland’s entire world narrowed to this single, overpowering sensation. The first thing that immediately struck him was the heat. A humid, intimate warmth that bloomed against his mouth and chin, sticking to his skin and beard and it was far more intense than he’d ever imagined, way more potent it seemed than when he had you on your back with his head between your legs. Ryland’s brain was tickled once again by that primal surge, something ridiculously set into his DNA from antiquity, something possessive roaring to life inside of him as his nostrils were filled with your sweet aroma again.
And Ryland’s initial tentativeness wasn’t just from inexperience, though it was incredibly plentiful as his mouth opened in anticipation. It was from an attempt to process the crazed reality of it. He was a man who dealt in vast ideas, microscopic and cosmic distances, a man who taught about the different forms of rocks! And now, the most profound intimacy he could calculate or conceive of in any retrospect was happening at zero range. The soft weight of you on his face was grounding, a pressure that anchored him to the moment and silenced the everlasting calculations and worries that usually plagued Ryland’s mind. There was no way to overthink this. He was only allowed to feel.
When his tongue first came out to play, you jolted. “Ryland!”
He hummed against you, not wanting to lose any form of momentum as he began data-collecting in the best way he could think of. The texture of your pussy was silky, the flesh yielding for Ryland so easily as he slid the muscle from your clit, down to your entrance, repeating the process as the taste of you exploded against his tastebuds.
You involuntarily clenched your thighs around his head with a gasp of excitement at the feeling of Ryland’s prominent nose against your clit, fingers grasping at the headboard so tightly that your knuckles were turning that unholy off-white color. Ryland wasn’t ashamed to admit to feeling a bit of… Pride at your reaction. He was causing this. He was the source of your pleasure, now, and all of the times before, and all of the times in the future he could foresee.
The stubble on his jaw became a tool for him to use. Ryland could feel the way it created a delicious and abrasive friction against your pubic arch as he snaked his arms around your thighs to hold you more surely by your pelvic bone. He wasn’t even sure why that seemed like a good idea, but it was almost immediately rewarded when you, through the haze of the pleasure, felt confident and stable to move, found a rhythm against his face that wasn’t entirely suffocating, but it was just enough to get Ryland to moan against you causing another rocket of ecstasy to shoot up your spine.
There was a shift of weight above him as you tucked your feet in to rest against his clavicle, another leverage point as you pressed your hips a bit harder to grind against Ryland’s expectant mouth, almost losing yourself completely in the tangling sensations of his beard getting caught in your pubic hair with your motion, the heady pressure of his nose smashing against your pussy and his tongue, fast at work to bring you to your climax. This was quite frankly, the most erotic thing that Ryland had ever experienced. His own hard-on, laying against the expanse of his stomach, a smear of pre-cum tracing his belly-button, was slowly becoming a throbbing, insistent presence and a tell-tale sign of how much you were affecting him.
Every gasp you were giving, every moan that sounded a lot like his name vibrated through your entire body and directly into his bones as he pressed his tongue into your entrance, holding down on your thighs to keep you in place as you essentially rode the muscle, Ryland peeking it in and out at a heightened pace. That’s when it happened. Ryland could feel the sting of your fingers grasping at a handful of his blonde hair, the sensation an exciting counterpoint to the softness of your pussy against his mouth. He was no longer just a scientist observing, he was an active participant, completely consumed by the act of giving you this pleasure. Ryland felt rightfully powerful, needed and completely and utterly yours. And he wanted it no other way.
“Ryland, Ryland, Ryland…” You chanted like a prayer, eyes falling shut as you rolled your head back. He relished in the motion, able to see it from his perch as his own eyelids fell shut slowly.
The rhythm of your grinding evolved sharply, growing more frantic and desperate, now a race that was both chaotic and perfectly synchronised. Ryland could feel the subtle tremors beginning in your thigh muscles, the way your breathing hitched and caught wilting in your throat as you tried to tell him to keep going and not to stop. Each tiny gasp and groan became shorter, more desperate as you chased your release.
The blonde beneath you adjusted his grip, his fingers pressing more firmly into your pelvic bone as if guiding you against him as sparks of adverse pleasure began tightening in your lower stomach. The confidence of which Ryland moved below you was staggering and left him surprised as he felt like he was learning your body’s language all over again with each shudder than shattered against him, each swallow of your pussy he was able to get down his throat and each coaxed friction as you began tediously grinding your clit against his nose. He couldn’t breathe, but that was no longer the point as he pushed your hips down onto him. Harder than before, needier than before.
“R-right there!” You managed to gasp out, Ryland’s tongue dripping deeper inside of you than it had before and curling right against the cusped bundle of nerves inside. Not directly on it, unfortunately Ryland’s tongue wasn’t long enough for that, but it was more of a kissing sensation against it, just enough to drive you insane as you bucked a bit more wildly against his handsome face, seeking refuge in the way that he held you above him, the way that he let you press your weight against him in a desperate plea to be closer.
“Please, please…. Don’t stop…” Your voice was hoarse, the muscles in your neck strangled. “Please don’t stop, Ryyyy….”
And here’s the thing. Ryland had no intention of stopping. The sound of your vocal cords, so strained, the taste of you blooming across his mouth, lingering now in his beard, the feeling of your incoming orgasm against his face was all too intoxicating in the best way possible. His movements become more intentional, Ryland raising your hips before bringing them back down as his mouth trailed from your sleek entrance back to your clit to swirl for a moment before diving back in. His own needs were secondary now, almost forgotten in the intensity of you.
“I-I’m going t-to cum…” You whispered, almost shamefully as the realization washed over you. It was going to happen. Ryland wasn’t going to pull away and whatever mess you were about to make was going to be messier than usual.
You glanced down at him. Finally, he thought as his eyes met yours in the flurry of the moment. Just in time to get an eyeful of the show.
He swept his tongue in one long, languid motion from bottom to top. You could feel the pressure of his nose against your entrance momentarily before it dragged upwards, leaving your body only to be replaced by the sensation of Ryland’s hot mouth swallowing your clit.
The electricity passed between you, so raw that it felt like it was going to take you both down. Ryland held your gaze as his tongue worked to curl deeper inside of you, finding that perfect angle that his fingers had a knack for, the very one that made your entire body convulse. He could feel your moan against his tongue, sending a bending shiver through his entire body to rest in the head of his overly-sensitive cock.
When your orgasm finally hit, it was like a wave breaking over you both. Your body did its thing. It tensed above Ryland, his heavy hands still locking you in place, your thighs clamping around his head tightly as a watery cry left your lips. “G-God, Ryland!”
He held you through it, his tongue working lovingly, his nose caressing your pussy so gently as you rode through the pleasure, back arching ever so slightly as your essence spilled down his beard, trailing along the coarse hairs on the underside of his jaw. Ryland’s heart was pounding in his chest, he could feel the spasms of your thighs and the coiling and tightening of your pussy. Ryland felt a sense of awe that he could do this for you. That you let him do this for you.
He moaned against you, moving quicker than before to lap up what he was able as your body began relaxing involuntarily against him, almost boneless and completely spent. The fingers in his hair left as he shuffled a bit, placing a few lingering kisses to your sensitive thighs before helping you as best he could. You shifted off his face, Ryland’s hands careful as if you were made of glass as you collapsed beside him on the bed.
Through a half-lidded stare, you glanced at him and felt an inadequate amount of embarrassment at the sight of his flushed cheeks and his beard, glistening with the evidence of what just transpired. You licked your dry lips as a wall of affection tore through you at the sight of Ryland… Disheveled, aroused and so, so proud of himself. “Uh… wow.” You laughed breathlessly with a goofy smile, Ryland propping himself up on his elbow to look at you.
His blue eyes were dark with need, but there was something else there too. Maybe… Tenderness… And a vulnerability that made you lean over and capture his mouth in a kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue as you urged him to follow you back, Ryland almost crushing his chest against yours. The kiss was a collision of desperation and relief. Your lips were soft, minorly demanding against your lovers, his tongue sweeping in to claim your mouth with an urgency that stole what little breath you had left, at the same time, offering you more of yourself to taste.
Ryland’s hand which had been resting on your hip, slid up to grasp at the back of your neck to pull you impossibly closer until there was no space left between your bodies, your legs wrapping around the narrowing of his waist as Ryland snuggled himself between them.
“I’ve… wanted to do that for a while…” Ryland confessed, lips tickling against yours. Each word was swallowed up by you as you drew him in for a slow kiss, feeling the length of his cock against your wet pussy, causing yet another shock of pleasure to run through both of you simultaneously. You admired the way that Ryland’s eyebrows creased at the contact, his eyes fluttering in concentration that was wearing very thin.
“Why did you wait so long?” You responded and let your fingers tuck into his blonde, sweaty hair. He drew a slow breath in, collapsing his arms around your head so he could rest on one forearm, the other now happily tucked between your two bodies so he could position himself just right against your swollen entrance.
“I-I knew you’d ask me where I heard a-about it.” He murmured cutely, the blush on his face more from his words than the mere fact that his cock was straining for some sort of release.
“W-will you ever tell me? I need to thank the s-source personally.” You teased, head tossing back against the pillows a moment later as the head of Ryland’s cock was swallowed by your tight pussy.
I got inspired by this tweet I saw. Shout out these guys 😋
Anyways here’s a little drabble :3
-
Grading was the last thing on Rylands mind. He had stayed late to try and at least achieve some sort of dent in the pile of students lab assignments on his desk, but it seems you had other plans for this late Friday evening.
Rylands hands are gripping tightly on the shelves around you both, panting against the palm of your hand. His hips jerk forward, stuttering and barely able to keep his knees from buckling underneath himself. He lets out a whimper from underneath your hand, eyes rolling back at the pleasure you’re giving him. You shush him softly, feeling the breath from his nostrils on the tops of your fingers.
Behind him, you rest your chin on his shoulder, whispering into his ear, “C’mon Mr. Grace….you would want anyone to hear you, would you?”
A quick little whine in response is muffled from beneath your hand. The only other sound filling the small, cramped janitors closet you had pulled him into being the slick sound of your other hand jerking him off. His pants were only unzipped far enough for you to pull his cock out, so both of you were still fully clothed.
You both knew that at this time of day at the middle school it would just be you two, as most of the cleaning staff had also gone home at this point. But, the idea of someone catching you seemed to really get Ryland going. You had pulled him in by his tie, tugging him into the janitors closet the moment he walked past.
You pause your motions to run your thumb across the sensitive red tip of his cock, spreading the pre-cum that had continued to spill. This elicits yet another muffled whimper from the man as he tries to buck up into your hand, desperate for you to continue jerking him off.
You tsk at him, leaning your head to the side to whisper into his ear. “You’re being so good for me Ry…such a good boy…” you say, breathing hot air against his ear. The sensation of it weakens his knees and he lets out another whimper at the sudden increased movement from your hand, slick with pre-cum.
With your chin back on his shoulder, you can see his face. His hair is a mess, sticking up on random spot. Sweat beads along his forehead, daring to drip down onto his flushed cheeks. His glasses sit askew, almost falling off if it weren’t for your hand right beneath his nose. His eyes are slightly open and rolled back, relishing in the pleasure you’re providing. He looked absolutely delicious.
His dick throbbed within your grasp, twitching as he got closer and closer to his climax. Additionally, he got more fidgety, hand moving from a death grip on the shelf to hold onto the arm over his mouth. His knees threatened to give out from beneath himself, leaning back into you for support.
His muffled moans and whimpers ramped up, getting louder and more frequent the closer he got.
Finally, he lets out the loudest groan yet, shuffling and twitching beneath you as ropes of white cover the back of the janitor door and your hand. His hips buck up into you at the slight overstimulation as you work him through his orgasm. His chest heaves, out of breath, slowly coming back from his arousal-driven haze.
You finally quit your ministrations the moment he begins to whine from the overstimulation. You take your hand off of his mouth and he pants breathlessly, satisfied to be able to breath properly.
His hands grip onto the shelves once again to hold himself up, and he lets out a long, shaky breath, shoving his limp cock back into his pants.
You look around the closet and find some paper towels to clean off your hand. Once he catches his breath, he turns around and faces you. His mouth covered with drool from when your hand covered his mouth.
“…I…I might need those too…” He states softly, motioning towards his mouth and the few drops that spilt onto what were his favorite pants, which hopefully wouldn’t stain.
You let out a chuckle, using a paper towel and wiping his face off. He lets out an embarrassed smile and take the paper towel from you once your done and wiping his pants off.
“We are definitely doing this again, just so you know.” You say reaching around him to wipe down the door.
His dick throbs at the notion, slowly hardening once more as an idea comes to mind.
I have cry, and never have felt better after. I don’t think I have ever found a movie that feel so much like a blanquet, so sweet and cozy, and so full of love
A/N: I wrote this in my notes app on my phone at work. This was meant to be a blurb. I have no chill about this man.
Warnings: SMUT 18+! Fluff, fingering, dirty talk if you squint real hard. Barely edited
Word count: 1,201
He couldn't find his sweater. He had to head out in less than five minutes and he couldn't find that stupid navy Greyhounds sweater. Ted ran a hand over his face before leaving his closet to search the rest of the bedroom.
He could've sworn he left it on the dresser the night before, placing it neatly folded before crawling into bed beside you. However, when he'd woken to the sound of his alarm, throwing his legs over the side of the bed to get his day started, it was gone. Briefly, he was confused, but then just assumed maybe he'd imagined setting it there before heading to take a shower. But now he was out of the shower and he had checked his drawers, now his closet, and it was nowhere to be seen.
Dammit, he thought as he started to button his undershirt, starting to walk to the kitchen. He wore the damn thing every other day, it's not like it could've gone far.
"Hey, sweetheart, have you seen my-" He cut himself off as he finally looked up from his buttons to see you. Hip resting on the counter, mug of tea in hand. His sweater swallowing your form, not seeming to wear much else.
The navy material hung loosely on you, sleeves covering your hands as the bottom only stopped mid thigh. God, he wanted to lift it, feel the skin that's hiding beneath. He wanted to take the mug from your hands, bend you over the counter and swallow you whole. But if the bedhead and half-asleep look in your eyes gave him any impression, it was that you had thrown on his sweater without even thinking. In a tired daze, all means to an end to be warm. So he wouldn't act on his instincts, but that didn't diminish the now tightness of the front of his khakis. He settled on standing on the other side of the counter to try and cover the growing tent.
Leaving his shirt half buttoned, he placed his hands on the counter to lean on. "Now, darlin', I've been looking for that sweater for an upwards of twenty minutes."
Your eyes went from him down to your body, seeming to widen a bit at the realization. You tugged up at the bottom hem a bit, gaze going back to him with a sheepish smile. "Well shit, I'm sorry, Ted. I just grabbed the first comfy shirt I saw."
He didn't say anything immediately, just watching you with a look that you couldn't quite decipher. He still had that same closed mouth smile he usually had, so that probably meant he wasn't mad, right? But still. Saying nothing? Yeah, that wasn't like Ted.
You set your mug on the counter before rounding it, fiddling with the hem still. "Do you want me to go change or-"
That seemed to snap him out of it. "What? No! God, no."
He stood in front of you in two quick strides, putting both of his hands on your arms, his thumbs moving in small circles on the fabric. "Please, never take this off," he said, his accent deeper, thicker.
Relaxing your shoulders, you placed your hands on his chest, leaning into him. "You don't mind?"
"Well, that depends- you said it's comfortable?"
You nodded, lowering your gaze to his chest, shirt still half unbuttoned, the hair there peaking out. The sight stirred something in you, but you began to start buttoning his shirt for him anyways, not wanting him to be late. "Comfiest thing in the house, smells like you," you said absentmindedly.
His hands moved to cover yours, stopping your actions to place them flat on his chest again, before they instead moved to your waist. His grip was tighter than usual, you noted, at least for 8:00am on a Tuesday. "Well, in that case, no. I don't mind at all, darlin'."
It started to dawn on you what was happening. The intense gaze he had, the way his voice dropped, the way his fingers seemed to clench and unclench on your sides. He was horny, and if the signs were a tell for anything, his composure was holding on by a string.
You leaned back to look up at him. "Ted, you have to get ready for work."
He merely hummed, easily tightening his grip to lift you onto the counter, spreading your legs to step between them. His sweater had ridden up at the action, exposing more skin on your thighs. The skin had barely been exposed before his hands were on them, fingers flexing on the flesh there.
"Searching for this thing was going to make me late anyways. A little later won't hurt anyone," he said in a hushed tone, his hands moving higher up, disappearing under the navy that hung off you.
You shudder at the contact, clearing your throat to hold your own composure. "That's not like you, though. What about Roy and Beard, what if they-"
The feeling of his digits finding purchase at the front of your wet panties has you choke on the rest of your words.
"You really thinkin' those guys are gonna care if they miss an hour or so of me yapping?" The pads of his fingers began to move slow circles over your clit through the fabric, a low groan leaving his throat as he felt your wetness spread. "Roy may even thank you for keeping me."
You wanted to reply, but only managed a soft, strained, "Ted."
Your fingers were now curling into his button down, wrinkling the fabric beyond repair. Good thing you didn't get the chance to finish buttoning it, he'll have to change it anyways. His hand that sat on your hip tightened more to keep you in place as his other began the slow, torturous path underneath the waistband of your panties.
"Now, sweetheart, you know I love when you argue a little, really gets me wound up. But as you've so kindly said, we're a little crunched on time. So," he leans in to place kisses on your throat, the touch of his lips and the prickle of his mustache on your skin overwhelming, "why don't you hush and just let me fuck you on this counter? Been on my mind since the moment I saw you in my clothes."
Damn him. He swore so rarely, and he knew exactly what it did for you when he did. Unable to respond, you nodded your head profusely, letting a gasp fall from your lips as his middle and ring finger finally sank into you. As they began to quicken in pace, your skin felt like it was on fire. You made a move to rid yourself of his sweater, only to have the hand that was on your hip halt the movement.
Your gaze snapped up to Ted's, cheeks red and flushed. He merely shook his head, pulling you in for a deep kiss, a distraction from his thumb now joining, swiping tight circles around your clit. Another whine left you, muffled against his lips. You felt his own morph into a smile, before pulling away just enough to mumble, "Sweater stays on."
someone sent me an anon ask about rocky meeting eva and i tried to post it not once but twice and tumblr ate it both times so now im just regular posting it here
i think ryland would grow to understand stratt’s choice with time, and even thank her logic of it because it led to his meeting of rocky, but i dont think he’d ever really forgive her for what she did to him
(Ryland had to prep rocky before they touched down to meet Stratt so he wouldnt charge her at first sight)
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