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the-tarot-witch22 · 6 months ago

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What's coming for you in 2025? - Pick a Pile

Pile 1/ Pile 2/ Pile 3

My Paid Readings | My insta | My year goal post

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Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!

Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!

How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!

I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!

Pile 1:

(The cards I got for you - The emperor, The hanged man, 6 of pentacles, 5 of pentacles, and 6 of cups)

Okay so the very first thing I feel and heard for you guy is "Organization and structure", if you have been messy like emotionally or just not cleaning your room and just being lazy, I see you getting better and do things in a better way, I am also feeling you will be taking charge in your personal and professional life, if you are in school then i am seeing you being group leader or having better grades, and if you work then i see leading your team, or even correcting your manager like damn this person doesn't hold back, I am feeling some of you may even start your own business like plenty of you wanting to do that, or had doubts, so i am seeing this year could be very fruitful to you in so many ways, I am feeling many of you are just polite in this group, even though you guys might be snarky, BUT, this year i am seeing changing that, i am feeling you will communicated yourself a lot better, if you guys had some financial issues that will be resolving too, I am also feeling you might learn from a male figure in your life, make them your role model, and learn a lot from them. Or I am also feeling in your life you guys have someone dominating your household, like a man, sometimes you do get in fights but it's not bad, this is only for some of you. I am also seeing you being not lazy as you were before, going out of comfort zone, doing things, which you have to do, i keep hearing panda for you guys, some of you could definitely be resonating with that lol. I am also feeling this year you would be helping out a lot of people, and looking back on things you did wrong and will do better this year, also do help people when you can, like feeding animals or people who are in need, it will count as a good karma, some of you could have been injured in past? definitely felt that, but don't worry this year, i am also feeling good health for you, I am also feeling some of you could reunite with people from past, but only let them in if you feel like it, for some of you its a friend, and for some its an ex, just be careful <3 I am also feeling you will get lots of nostalgic feeling and if you have moved out, i am seeing you meeting your parents this year, like getting a feeling some of you might be in abroad, so you might meet or talk with your parents and friends a lot. Earth signs are very prominent here especially virgo and taurus sun/moon/rising, and scorpio sun/ moon / rising.

Oracle cards I pulled for you :

a new start is coming (new moon) : A new beginning a new start is on its way for you, you will be more hopeful, let go of the past, things you manifest will be fruitful, things will move, you will feel more alive if you felt stuck, and YES! whatever your question could be your doubts because trust me its a yes.

be assertive - Be confident in your decisions and yourself, i am hearing "life is too short" living by other people's rules, so make your own and just do what you gotta do.

Okay pile 1, that's all i got for you guys, happy new year my pookies, may all your wishes come true cheers <3

Pile 2 :

(The cards I got for you - 8 of wands, 2 of pentacles, 5 of pentacles, 6 of swords and the lovers)

Okay so the very first thing I heard and feel is that you will or might be taking a trip, I am feeling things will move fast for you, I am also seeing you guys getting the job you want, the internship, the college you want to go into, everything working out for you, the hard struggles that you have faced in your life are just vanishing but i am also seeing a small trip or just up and down from the college/school/work to your kind of travel, I am feeling you might meet someone this year could be at work or at school if not then, some sort of daily doing activity, but anyhow i am feeling there is so much in life that will be working out for you guys. Some of you would be developing new hobbies for yourself like going to gym or yoga or art classes. You might do find to juggle with them a bit difficult like there will be so many things and you would be like we want to try it, try that etc. But all in a good way. I am also feeling that there might be a sort of loss you faced in your life in 2024 or 2023, i am seeing you will be moving away from it, and healing that part of yours, I am also feeling when you do and that's when you will meet someone in your life, and if you don't meet someone then your energy will definitely be calling your partner's energy. But for many of you I am sensing there is a beautiful reunion ahead. Plus there will be decision coming ahead, so go with your gut and choose what you have to. Self love is also a care here, where you focus on yourself. Gemini , cancer, capricorn sun/ moon/ rising are quite prominent here.

Oracles Cards I pulled for you -

Luck is on your side (new moon in Sagittarius) - Write down your wishes your gratitude in the journal, don't be judgy if sometimes you are, a thing that will help you in every way, which you wanted so much it will come to you, there might also be a trip coming.

No need to worry : Things will get better for you so leave the rest to universe and be present in the moment, I am sensing some of you are over worrier so do take it easy, because universe got your back.

Ask for help from others - If you bottle things up, then try to ask for help from others don't hesitate, and your loved ones love you, they love to listen to you talk don't get lost in your heads all the time, you got this.

Okay pile 2, that's all i got for you guys, happy new year my pookies, may all your wishes come true cheers <3

Pile 3 :

(The cards I got for you guys - 3 of wands, queen of wands, king of cups, the fool)

Okay so the very first thing i hear and feel for you guys is, manifest your dreams, just do it, don't doubt if it will be fruitful or not just do it, I am also feeling this new year will bring you a new sort of adventure, something you have never felt before, WHY AM I FEELING THE ADERALINE RUSH, SO I AM SENSING IT WILL BE SOMETHING UNIQUE AND AMAZING AND A DREAM COME TRUE! I am also feeling that some of you guys have fire sign prominent sun/moon/rising especially Sagittarius, I am feeling you guys will be going on a trip this year, which is abroad, you might also go to study in new country, it will be so sudden you will feel it's a no, but when you do it will be like, you made it, 2025 is a year of prosperity for you, and i am seeing lots of blue color, and blue skies, and I am seeing hope for you guys, new starts, adventures, I am also feeling you might adopt a dog or a animal this year, I am also feeling you will enter your divine feminine era this year, and being more confident in your body, I am also feeling the person you will attract will be head over heels for you, awwww, and I am seeing you stepping or taking risks, you might be a bit reckless but honestly seeing this will work out for you~

Oracles card I got for you -

conclusion are within reach (full moon eclipse) - Forgive yourself and others what they have hurt you, it will help you heal, the door once shut, dont go back to it, just know helping others will also be fruitful to you guys.

step out of your comfort zone (north node) - go out just do what you always want to do, say fuck it and do it don't doubt your blessing, you got this, leave the past in past, let go of people or things that doesn't serve you, just know whatever you choose you will be moving in right direction.

success! - I am seeing your professional life getting better and better and whatever door was not opened it will open now, and I am seeing you getting lots of opportunities.

romance - I am definitely seeing you meeting someone this year, if you alrwady have someone your relationship might move to next level.

compromise - The only thing I will say is just get out of your comfort zone.

Okay pile 3, that's all i got for you guys, happy new year my pookies, may all your wishes come true cheers <3

Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3

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cbeargyu · 2 months ago

Text

I hate and need him so much !!

summary: you and beomgyu are the top students in your university’s music program—but that’s the only thing you have in common. constantly clashing over leadership and vision, your rivalry is infamous across campus. but when a heated late-night argument over your final project spirals out of control, you both cross a line neither of you can walk back from. tension turns to obsession, and hate becomes the hottest kind of desire...

pairing: enemy!beomgyu x fem!reader

genre: enemies with benefits, smut, angst, college au, slow burn, toxic dynamics, musical rivalry.

warnings: explicit sexual content, strong language, toxic dynamics, public tension, dominance & submission themes, rough sex, mentions of physical aggression (non-violent), mutual degradation, possessiveness, slight exhibitionism, slight humiliation, dirty talk, praise kin, overstimulation, begging.[18+ ONLY MDI]

wc: 5,94k

notes: my tiktok is flooded with beomgyu videos + beomgyu in those photos... I'm thinking... 🫦💦

you’ve never met someone as fucking insufferable as choi beomgyu.

you’re top of your class in music theory and composition. sharp mind, sharper tongue, perfectionist to the bone. and unfortunately, so is he. same major, same year, same goddamn classes—and ever since first year, you’ve been stuck in this sick, twisted competition that neither of you ever agreed to, but neither of you can let go of either.

he’s loud. smug. sarcastic. every time he opens his mouth, it’s like he’s begging you to punch him. he thinks he’s the most brilliant mind to grace the university halls and you? you’re just a stubborn little brat who got lucky with a few good scores.

you, on the other hand, think he’s a cocky little shit with too much talent and zero humility. a show-off. a provocateur. someone who gets under your skin just for the thrill of it.

and worse, he knows it.

“i don’t know how the fuck you got the leader position,” he says, arms crossed over his chest as he leans back against the piano like he owns the place. “but if you keep running this project like this, we’re all going to look like idiots.”

you’re standing near the whiteboard, marker still in your hand from the rehearsal plan you were setting up. you were already exhausted—it’s late, your head’s pounding, and everyone else already left the music room because they knew this was coming.

you and beomgyu. again.

“then don’t be part of it,” you snap, glaring at him over your shoulder. “no one’s forcing you to stay.”

“you’re unbelievable,” he scoffs, pushing himself off the piano and walking closer. “you act like you know everything. like your way is the only way. but guess what? newsflash—this isn’t high school anymore, princess. not everyone’s going to kiss your ass.”

“fuck you,” you hiss, dropping the marker and turning to face him fully now.

“oh, that’s rich.” he laughs—short, bitter, mocking. “you can’t handle being challenged, huh? the second someone calls you out, you throw a fit.”

“you’re not ‘challenging’ me, you’re being a fucking asshole,” you step closer too now, chests nearly touching. “you think just because you play guitar and write edgy lyrics, you’re some kind of genius?”

his jaw clenches. “i am a fucking genius. unlike you, i don’t treat people like shit to feel superior.”

“no, you just think you’re better than everyone and talk like you’re god’s gift to music.”

“keep pushing me, sweetheart,” he growls, eyes narrowing. “see what happens.”

and maybe it’s the hour. or the pent-up rage. or how his breath is hot against your lips now, because neither of you moved away.

maybe it’s the way your heart’s been racing around him since the first semester, and you’ve been too fucking proud to admit it.

but when he grabs your wrist, pulling you flush against him, and your mouths crash together in something that’s not a kiss, not yet—more like a war—you don’t stop it.

you kiss him like you’re trying to shut him up. he kisses you like he’s trying to make you forget your name.

it’s teeth. it’s tongue. it’s bruises forming before either of you even start taking clothes off. his hands are gripping your waist like he’s waited years for this, and your fingers are tangled in his hair, pulling hard, like you want to hurt him and fuck him at the same time.

you gasp when his lips leave yours, only to trail down your neck, biting hard enough to make you whimper. your back hits the wall behind you with a dull thud, and you’re too far gone to care if anyone hears.

“still think you’re in control?” he mutters against your skin, voice low, mocking, laced with heat.

“fuck you,” you spit, breathless.

he grins. that goddamn grin.

“yeah?” he grabs your chin, tilting your face so you have to look at him. “then why are you fucking shaking for me, bitch?”

you slap him.

not hard enough to hurt. just enough to sting.

his smirk drops for a second—and then he laughs, low and wild, before grabbing your wrists and slamming them above your head.

“god, you’re such a brat,” he growls. “always running your mouth, always trying to act like you’re better than me. but here you are, letting me pin you like a fucking slut.”

“go to hell,” you snap, squirming against him.

he leans in, presses his mouth to your ear. “after i’m done with you.”

he kisses you again—hard, possessive, angry. his hand slides under your shirt, up your ribs, dragging slow just to hear you breathe harder.

“take this shit off,” he says against your lips, tugging at your shirt, and you don’t hesitate.

the air is cold, but his hands are hotter than sin. they roam, greedy, rough, like he wants to memorize every inch of you just so he can ruin it.

“beomgyu—” his name escapes your mouth in a shaky moan when he sucks a bruise right beneath your collarbone.

“what, bitch?” he mutters, pulling your bra down like it’s in his way. “you like that? you like when i touch you like this?”

you don’t answer. your pride won’t let you.

so he smirks, teeth flashing. “still pretending you hate me?”

you glare. “i do.”

he chuckles darkly. “then hate me with your legs around my waist.”

and you do. you hook your legs around him as he lifts you off the floor, grinding into you, cock already hard through his jeans and pressed right against where you need him most.

“fuck,” you whisper, head falling back.

“yeah,” he breathes, mouth trailing down to your chest. “that’s what i thought.”

his fingers find the waistband of your pants, tugging them down with a sort of impatient frustration that makes your whole body ache. he kisses down your stomach as he does it, slow only to torment you.

“been dreaming about this,” he mutters. “ruining that smart little mouth of yours. showing you who really runs this fucking class.”

“keep talking,” you pant, “and i’ll bite your tongue off.”

he laughs again—low, dangerous.

“you’re such a bitch,” he says. “and you’re gonna let me fuck you anyway.”

and you do.

you don’t know how you ended up half-naked on the piano bench, legs spread, his mouth buried between your thighs like he’s starving.

maybe it was the way you clawed at his shirt like you wanted to rip his skin off. maybe it was how he shoved you down with a growl, like he couldn’t stand another second without tasting you.

either way, you’re too far gone to give a fuck.

“fuck—beomgyu—” you choke out, fingers tangling in his messy hair.

he groans into your cunt, licking you slow just to hear you whimper, then fast just to fuck with you. his hands are bruising your thighs, holding you still like he’s scared you’ll run.

“you’re loud now,” he says, voice muffled against your skin, “but in class you act so fucking high and mighty.”

“shut up—” your voice cracks when he flicks his tongue over your clit, again, again, again.

“no,” he growls, looking up at you with spit and you all over his mouth. “you don’t get to shut me up. not when you’re moaning like a little toy.”

you reach down, grabbing his jaw, pulling him up to kiss him hard—tasting yourself on his tongue, nails dragging down his back.

“you’re fucking disgusting,” you whisper against his lips.

he bites your bottom lip, just enough to make you gasp. “and you love it.”

you do.

you hate him. but you want him so bad it’s making your head spin.

when he finally unzips his jeans and pulls his cock out, thick and flushed and leaking, your mouth goes dry.

“don’t stare like you’re impressed,” he teases, pumping himself once. “you act like you’re not dying for this.”

you glare, then smirk. “i’ve had better.”

“is that so?”

he grabs your hips, pulls you to the edge of the bench, and slams into you without warning.

your whole body arches.

“fuck—!” you cry out, nails digging into his arms.

he doesn’t give you a second to adjust. doesn’t slow down. he fucks you like he’s punishing you for every word you’ve ever thrown at him, every smug look you’ve ever given.

“better than this?” he grits out, snapping his hips harder. “you’re dripping, you fucking liar.”

“shut up—”

“nah. say it. say who’s fucking you this good.”

“go to hell,” you growl, grabbing the back of his neck, dragging his mouth to yours.

he kisses you like he wants to bruise your soul. you kiss him like you want to rip his heart out.

“fuck, you feel good,” he groans against your mouth. “tight little cunt acting like she doesn’t need me.”

you moan. you hate that he’s right. that your body’s betraying you, clenching around him, begging for more.

“fucking bastard,” you hiss, throwing your head back when he hits that spot deep inside you.

“say it again,” he pants, pounding into you. “call me every name you want, i know you’re close.”

“pathetic, arrogant, loud-mouthed little shit—” you gasp, legs shaking.

“that’s right,” he growls. “cum for me, fucking hate me while you do it.”

you do.

you fall apart under him, clenching around him so tight he swears and grabs your waist like he’s losing control.

and a second later, he’s cumming too—deep inside you, jaw clenched, eyes shut, letting out a low, broken groan of your name like it physically hurts.

the room’s silent except for the sound of your heavy breathing.

he collapses against you, forehead resting on your shoulder.

you push him off.

“we’re not doing this again,” you mutter, standing up and adjusting your clothes.

he smirks, still breathless, watching you like he already knows better.

“we’ll see, sweetheart.”

he’s been staring at you like he wants to kill you since class started.

arms crossed, jaw clenched, foot tapping like a fucking metronome of rage.

you ignore him. or try to.

but when professor kim announces your proposal will lead the ensemble showcase, and not his—oh, the way his eyes meet yours. burning. hateful. hungry.

you smirk, just to piss him off.

after class, you don’t even make it out the door.

“come with me,” he snaps, grabbing your wrist, dragging you through the empty hallway before you can protest.

“fuck off, beomgyu—”

he pushes open an empty rehearsal room and shoves you inside.

you spin on him. “what the fuck is your problem?!”

“you are,” he growls, slamming the door shut. “fucking show-off. always need to win, huh?”

you scoff. “maybe if your idea hadn’t been shit—”

he grabs your face and kisses you so hard your back hits the wall, again.

and you let him.

because you’re both too far gone now.

you kiss him back, biting his lip, tugging his hair like you’re trying to hurt him—like you want him to hurt you back.

his hands are everywhere. under your shirt, gripping your waist, yanking down your pants without a word.

“so fucking full of yourself,” he mutters, yanking your underwear down roughly. “bet you soaked your panties the second you saw me lose.”

you slap him again.

he just grins. “hit me harder if you want, baby. i know you like it rough.”

you grab his belt, undoing it fast. “shut up and fuck me.”

“say please.”

“fuck you.”

he shoves you against the wall, lifts your leg, and thrusts in—raw, fast, brutal.

you cry out, hands slamming against the wall for support.

“god—fuck—beomgyu—”

“that’s right,” he pants, pounding into you like he wants to erase your fucking mind. “say my name. say it like you mean it.”

your moans echo through the empty room. it’s reckless. loud. stupid.

anyone could walk in.

and maybe that’s why it feels so good.

“you look so pretty when you lose control,” he growls, biting your neck. “not so smug now, huh?”

you clench around him, mouth open in a silent moan.

he hisses. “you’re close.”

“no—shut up—i’m not—”

“liar,” he snarls, fucking you deeper. “you’re so wet i can feel you shaking.”

“piece of shit—”

“say it again.”

“fuck you—”

“you are.”

he grabs your face again, kisses you hard, and you break—cumming around him with a cry you can’t hold back.

he follows seconds later, groaning against your mouth, cock twitching inside you as he spills himself deep.

you both freeze.

silence.

then—footsteps outside the door.

your eyes widen.

he smirks.

“we should do this more often.”

he’s pacing in the classroom like a storm trapped in four walls. jacket thrown on the floor, hair a mess, frustration radiating off of him.

“i just don’t get how you always win,” he spits, glaring at the floor.

you raise an eyebrow, calm, bored. “because i’m better.”

he whips around. “fuck you.”

you smile. “you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

his breath catches. just for a second. and you see it.

that crack in his anger. the want under all that pride.

you stand, walking slowly to him.

“what’s wrong, gyu?” you murmur, dragging a finger up his chest. “you mad because you lost again? or because you can't stop thinking about how good i made you feel last time?”

his jaw tightens. his eyes drop to your lips.

“i hate you,” he says, but his voice is already shaking.

you hum. “lie better.”

and then your hand slips between his legs, cupping him over his jeans—slow. gentle. cruel.

he gasps. you feel how hard he is already.

“fuck—don’t—” he tries to step back.

you press your body into his, pinning him to the wall.

“don’t what?” you whisper against his ear. “don’t touch you? don’t make you beg?”

he whimpers.

actual whimpers.

“please…”

you grin.

“look at you,” you whisper. “so hard just from me teasing you. you want me that bad?”

he nods, red-faced, biting his lip.

“use your words, baby.”

“please,” he whispers, breathless, “please touch me. i need it. i need you.”

you pull back slightly, watching him.

he drops to his knees.

and that’s when your power hits him full force.

beomgyu, the cocky bastard, the arrogant top of your class, on the floor, looking up at you like you’re his fucking god.

“say it again.”

“please…” he swallows hard, pupils blown wide. “i need you to touch me. to use me. i’ll do anything. just—just don’t stop.”

you sit down on the chair, legs spread.

“come here.”

he crawls between your legs without hesitation.

you grab his jaw. “good boy.”

his breath stutters.

“can i… can i taste you?” he asks, voice so low and wrecked you barely hear it.

you smirk. “you can try.”

after he buried his face between your thighs, you had to muffle your moans with your hand, desperate not to cry out. but it was pointless—the university was already empty, and anyone left wouldn’t dare come near that classroom with the way the air practically sizzled around you.

you should’ve left right then, should’ve played it safe. but the heat between you was too much, too consuming. so instead, you stumbled out together, breathless and shaking, and made it back to your apartment—ready to finish what you never should’ve started in public.

“you’re so pretty when you cry,” you murmur, dragging your fingers down his chest.

he’s panting, cheeks flushed, wrists tied to the bedpost with your silk scarf. thighs trembling. body covered in marks from your mouth.

his cock is red, leaking, twitching.

“please,” he chokes out, voice wrecked. “i-i can’t—please let me come—”

you tilt your head. “already?”

you’ve edged him three times now. never letting him finish. always pulling away just when his moans start turning desperate.

“you really are weak, aren’t you?” you coo, wrapping your fingers around him again, slowly, cruelly.

his head falls back with a loud whimper. “fuck—yes, i am, i am—just for you—”

“look at you,” you murmur, stroking him torturously slow. “the same guy who told me he hated me. now you’re begging like a good little slut.”

his whole body jolts.

you lean closer, lips brushing his ear. “you like it when i talk to you like that?”

he nods frantically, eyes glossy. “yes—yes, please—more—”

you tighten your grip, pace quickening.

“you like being mine?”

“yes—yes, i’m yours—only yours—please don’t stop—”

“you’re not gonna come yet,” you whisper. “not until i say so.”

he sobs, hips jerking, trying to chase the friction. “please—please, i’ll do anything—i’ll be so good—just let me—”

you straddle him.

his eyes widen.

you don’t even have to say anything—he’s already moaning.

“you wanna come inside me, baby?” you whisper, dragging your folds over his aching tip, not letting him in.

he’s shaking. “please, please, i need to, i need to—i’ll be good—fuck—i’ll make you feel so good, i swear—just let me—let me—”

you slide down onto him all at once.

his scream is broken. his whole body arches.

“thank you—fuck, thank you—” he babbles, clutching the headboard with white knuckles.

“you’re so deep,” you moan, starting to ride him, slow and heavy. “you feel so good when you shut up and take it.”

he’s sobbing now. overwhelmed. blissed out.

“gonna fill me up?” you whisper, kissing his jaw. “gonna come like the good little boy you are?”

he nods, barely able to speak. “yes—yes, please—please—can i—please—”

“do it,” you growl in his ear.

he breaks.

he cries out your name, cumming so hard it makes his entire body shake, eyes rolling back as he trembles under you. it doesn’t stop—he keeps twitching, breathless, whimpering, completely ruined.

you don’t stop moving.

his eyes widen in panic.

“w-wait—too much—i can’t—”

you just smirk.

“you said you’d do anything, baby. don’t disappoint me now.”

you barely step inside the third-floor bathroom before you feel it.

the shift.

he’s already there, waiting — back against the wall, eyes on you like he’s been planning something. calculating. hungry.

but this time… he doesn’t look shy.

he doesn’t look desperate.

he looks like a fucking storm.

you close the door slowly, a smirk playing on your lips. “someone’s eager.”

he doesn’t answer.

he just pushes himself off the wall, takes three steps forward, and corners you against the door. his body flush against yours.

his voice is low, dark.

“you think you’re in control, don’t you?”

you blink, caught off guard.

“you think you can tease me in front of everyone, make me sit pretty and beg for you like a fucking toy,” he growls, gripping your chin, tilting your head up. “but you forget something, babe.”

his breath is hot against your ear.

“you want this just as bad as i do. and you’re not as untouchable as you act.”

you scoff, but it dies in your throat when he grabs your wrists and pins them above your head with one hand, the other sliding down your waist and under your skirt like he owns every inch of you.

“gonna prove it,” he murmurs, kissing your jaw, then biting down harder than he should. “gonna fuck the brat out of you.”

“you’re dreaming if you think—”

“shut up,” he snaps, shoving his knee between your legs, forcing them open. “you had your turn. now it’s mine.”

your breath catches when he drops to his knees, yanks your underwear down and presses his mouth right where you need him. no warning. no build-up. just pure, messy heat.

you whimper, trying to squirm, but his grip on your thighs is brutal. “stay fucking still.”

he eats you like he’s starving.

like this is punishment.

like he wants to ruin you.

and he does — slowly. with groans that vibrate against your core. with tongue strokes that make your knees buckle. with lips that suck until you're gasping, trembling, begging—

“beomgyu, i’m gonna—”

he stops.

just like that.

you cry out in frustration, but he stands and shoves two fingers in your mouth, making you taste yourself.

“you don’t get to cum yet,” he smirks. “not until you say it.”

you glare at him, trying to keep whatever pride you have left. he leans in, lips brushing yours.

“say you need me.”

you don’t.

you won’t—

he grabs your hips and slams into you so hard you choke on your breath.

you almost scream, biting your hand to stay quiet as he fucks into you like he’s trying to destroy you. like he wants you sore. shaking. marked.

“say it,” he demands again, slamming deeper. “say you fucking need me.”

“fuck—i need you,” you gasp, losing it. “i fucking need you, okay?”

he smiles, dark and satisfied.

“good girl.”

and he keeps going.

you swear you black out a little when you finally cum, legs wrapped around him, walls clenching so tight he nearly loses control. but he doesn’t. he keeps going, overstimulating you until you're crying into his shoulder.

when he’s done, he pulls out, breathing hard, eyes glazed.

you’re a mess — flushed, dripping, lips bruised, hair wild.

he zips up, fixes his shirt, then grabs your jaw again.

“next time you wanna play boss,” he whispers, “remember who actually makes you fall apart.”

and then he’s gone — just like that.

leaving you shaking against the door, breathless, ruined.

it’s late. everyone’s gone, except for you and beomgyu. you both stay back to finish up the final arrangements for the project. the studio is dim, the only light coming from the desk lamps and the soft glow of the instruments scattered around the room. a low hum of the sound system mixes with the quiet shuffle of papers as you go over the details. you’re too focused, too determined to let anything distract you. not even him.

but he’s watching you.

you feel it before you see him. his eyes on you, the way his gaze lingers too long, too intense. he’s not the quiet, obedient beomgyu you’re used to. no, tonight, there’s a shift in the air, something darker, something that makes your heartbeat quicken.

you look up at him. he’s standing near the piano, leaning against it with his arms crossed, his usual casual look replaced by a more dangerous edge. his jaw is clenched, his eyes narrowed in that way that makes your pulse race. his voice is rough when he finally speaks, cutting through the silence.

“you’ve been ignoring me all night,” he says, the words low and biting. “like i don’t fucking matter.”

you raise an eyebrow, setting your pen down slowly. “i’m busy,” you say, voice steady, though there’s a hint of something else in it. something that shows you know exactly where this is headed.

“busy?” his lips curl into a sneer as he pushes off the piano, taking a slow step toward you. “you were too busy when i was begging for your attention. and now… now you’re too busy to notice how badly i want you.”

the words hit you like a shockwave, and your breath catches. but you stand your ground. “and what do you want from me, beomgyu? you really think you can just—”

“shut up,” he growls, closing the distance between you in an instant. his hands grip your hips, pushing you back against the desk. the suddenness of it has you gasping, your breath hitching in your throat. “i’ve had enough of you acting like you’re in control. you’re not. not tonight.”

his hands slide up your waist, pinning you against the desk, and the heat between you is undeniable. you try to fight it, but you know—you know—you’re not going anywhere. he’s stronger. he’s in charge now.

he lifts you effortlessly, his fingers digging into your thighs as he spins you around, his lips brushing your ear as he presses his body against yours. “this project’s been a fucking joke, but i’m about to show you who’s really leading this.”

you shiver at the feel of his hot breath on your skin. you try to push back, but he’s already got you where he wants you. his hands roam over you like he’s starved, hungry for every inch of your body.

before you can react, his lips crash onto yours. the kiss is aggressive, desperate. his tongue pushes into your mouth with no warning, like he’s claiming you, taking you without hesitation. you moan into it, your own hands finding purchase on his shirt, tugging him closer.

he breaks the kiss with a growl, his lips trailing down your neck, nipping at your skin as his hands begin to strip you down. he’s rough, unrelenting, as if he’s been holding back for too long. and now, now he wants to punish you for making him wait.

“tell me,” he whispers, his fingers tugging at your shirt. “tell me you want me. say it, and i’ll give it to you. all of it.”

you swallow, trying to keep your composure. you’re not going to give him the satisfaction that easily. but beomgyu’s hands are everywhere—on your chest, your waist, pulling you closer until you can feel the hardness of him pressing against your stomach. you can’t deny it. you want him. god, you want him so badly. but you won’t admit it that easily.

“fuck you,” you spit out, pushing at his chest, though your body betrays you, grinding against him involuntarily.

beomgyu smirks, completely unphased. his eyes darken, and he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear again. “you will, bitch. you’re going to beg for it.”

suddenly, he spins you back around, shoving you against the desk once more. he’s fast, too fast for you to react, and before you can even think, he’s pulling your skirt up, exposing you. his fingers are already there, teasing, stroking over your sensitive skin with slow precision.

“tell me you want it,” he murmurs, voice thick with lust. “say it.”

you close your eyes, breathing hard, your hands gripping the edge of the desk as you feel him push against you. his movements are slow, torturous, his teasing driving you crazy.

“please…” you mutter, barely audible, but he hears it. that’s all he needs.

“good girl,” he says, his voice dark with satisfaction. “you don’t get to hold back anymore. not when i’m in control.”

then, he’s inside you. deep. hard. he doesn’t give you time to adjust, doesn’t give you time to breathe. the desk rattles under the force of his thrusts, your body rocking with each movement. his hands grip your hips, slamming into you with ruthless precision, fucking you like he owns you.

you cry out, your fingers digging into the desk, but he doesn’t care. he just keeps going, taking what he wants. you’re powerless against him, lost in the rhythm of his hips, the relentless pace he’s setting.

“tell me you need me,” he demands, his breath hot against your neck as he fucks you harder. “say it. now.”

“fuck,” you gasp, unable to stop the words that spill from your lips. “i need you, beomgyu. i fucking need you.”

his grin is wicked, satisfied. “good. now you’re mine.”

and he pushes you to the edge, pushing harder, faster, until you come undone. your body shakes with the force of your orgasm, your fingers gripping the desk so hard you’re sure it’ll leave marks. and even when you think you can’t take anymore, he doesn’t stop. he keeps going, fucking you through it, until you’re begging for mercy.

your legs are shaking, but he doesn’t stop.

beomgyu grabs your arm, spinning you around again, his lips dragging down your neck, your collarbone, teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp. “did you think i was done with you?” he mutters, voice dripping with dark amusement. “we’re just getting started, baby.”

he lifts you like you weigh nothing and carries you to the worn leather couch in the corner of the studio. he drops you onto it and spreads your legs without hesitation. you don’t even have time to catch your breath before he drops to his knees and buries his face between your thighs.

“oh fuck—beomgyu—” your voice cracks as his tongue licks a long, slow stripe up your core.

his hands grip your thighs tightly, pinning you open as he devours you like he’s starving. he sucks, licks, flicks his tongue in maddening circles, then flattens it against your clit until your hips buck off the couch.

“taste so fucking good,” he growls, voice muffled against your wetness. “you gonna cum on my mouth, baby?”

you whimper, fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. “shit, yes—fuck—don’t stop—”

but he does stop. the bastard smirks up at you, lips wet, eyes burning. “nah. not yet. i want you ruined when i’m done.”

before you can curse him out, he’s pulling you up, flipping you over. your knees sink into the couch as he grabs your waist, angling your ass up. you barely manage to breathe before he’s slamming back into you from behind.

“fuck!” you cry out, your voice echoing off the walls. the angle is brutal, perfect. you’re melting, unraveling around him, every thrust punching the air out of your lungs.

“you hear that?” he pants, fucking you hard and fast. “that’s the sound of your pussy getting absolutely wrecked.”

you can barely answer, but your body responds—arching into him, pushing back, greedy for more. he grabs your hair, yanking your head back so he can whisper in your ear.

“you love this, don’t you? getting fucked like a little slut. look at you—can’t even talk, just taking my cock like you were made for it.”

you moan, dizzy from the filth spilling out of his mouth and the relentless way he’s driving into you.

then he flips you again, pulling you on top of him as he falls back onto the couch. “ride me,” he commands, hands gripping your ass. “show me how much you fucking want it.”

you don’t hesitate. you sink down onto him, both of you groaning at the contact. your hands grip his shoulders as you start to move—slow at first, then faster, grinding down as he thrusts up to meet you. the friction, the heat—it’s too much. you're bouncing on him like your life depends on it, tits bouncing, eyes locked on his as you both fall apart.

“fucking ride me, just like that. shit—look at you,” he groans, his head falling back, his fingers bruising your hips. “so fucking tight, fuck—gonna cum if you keep that up.”

you’re right there with him. you’re shaking, sweating, losing control. your climax builds like a tidal wave, and he knows. He feels it.

“you gonna cum, baby? gonna cream all over my cock like a good little slut?”

“fuck yes—yes—beomgyu—!” you scream as your orgasm crashes over you, your whole body convulsing as pleasure rips through you.

he follows right after, grabbing your hips, slamming you down onto him one last time as he spills inside you with a raw, guttural moan. you collapse on top of him, both of you panting, sweaty, ruined.

the studio is silent again, except for the ticking of the clock on the wall and the lazy hum of the soundboard. you’re both still half-naked on the couch, skin slick with sweat, catching your breath. beomgyu’s chest rises and falls beneath you, his fingers lazily tracing shapes on your bare back.

“you look fucked out,” he murmurs, smirking against your temple.

you hum, eyes closed. “that’s because you fucked me out.”

there’s a beat of silence. and then he chuckles—low, dark, dangerous. “not yet...”

before you can respond, he’s flipping you over again, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand, his body hovering over yours.

“beomgyu, what the fuck—” you start, but he cuts you off with a kiss so filthy, so consuming, it leaves you gasping.

his voice is gravel when he pulls back. “you think i’m done with you? you really think that was enough?” his knee parts your thighs again, sliding between them, pressing right where you're still throbbing. “you’re dripping for me, baby. don’t even try to lie.”

you arch into him involuntarily, and he grins like he owns you. “god, you’re fucking desperate. like a little cum-drunk slut.”

he lets go of your wrists and slides down your body, dragging his tongue along your stomach, your hipbone, your inner thigh—until he's right where you need him again. he spreads you open and stares, admiring the mess he made of you.

“fuck, look at you,” he growls. “so wrecked. so perfect.”

then his mouth is on you again. this time, it’s not teasing. it’s relentless. his tongue fucks into you, circles your clit, sucks until you're writhing, crying out, begging.

“please—please, fuck—”

but he doesn’t stop there.

he stands, wiping his mouth, then grabs you by the waist and drags you to the edge of the couch. “on your knees,” he orders, voice rough. “hands on the floor. ass up.”

you obey without thinking—your body knows what it wants now. you feel his hand grip your ass, spreading you wide, and then the thick head of his cock pressing back inside you.

he grabs your jaw suddenly, fingers sliding between your lips, forcing them open. “open up,” he growls, his voice low and demanding. you moan around his fingers as he shoves them deep into your mouth, pressing them down on your tongue. “suck,” he commands, and you do—eyes fluttering shut, lips wrapped around his fingers like it’s instinct.

“that’s it, baby. just like that,” he murmurs, pulling them out slick and glistening, only to trail them down your body—between your thighs—before lining himself up again. “now i’m gonna fuck you nice and deep, just how you like it. don’t fucking run.”

he bottoms out in one thrust.

you scream.

“yeah, that’s right,” he pants, thrusting deep and hard. “let them fucking hear you. let everyone know how good I fuck this tight little pussy.”

the position hits everything. his hand wraps around your throat from behind, pulling your body up as he fucks you like an animal. it’s filthy, raw, and fucking perfect.

“say it,” he demands. “say you’re mine.”

“i’m yours,” you gasp, tears pricking your eyes from the intensity. “i’m fucking yours, beomgyu.”

he growls, slamming into you harder, faster, the sound of skin against skin echoing in the studio. “damn right you are.”

and then he flips you over one more time—flat on your back this time, legs over his shoulders as he pounds into you, eyes locked on yours like he wants to watch every second of you coming apart again.

“you’re gonna cum for me again, baby,” he says between ragged breaths. “you’re gonna soak my cock, and then i’m gonna fill you up again. you want that?”

“fuck, yes—please—do it—”

that’s all it takes. your orgasm hits like a damn freight train, your whole body seizing up as he keeps thrusting, watching you shatter beneath him.

and when you cum, crying his name, he loses it.

he buries himself deep, groaning as he spills inside you again, hips twitching, body shaking. and then he collapses on top of you, both of you gasping for air, completely, utterly wrecked.

you lie there in silence, your body trembling from overstimulation, your mind fuzzy with pleasure.

“you’re not leaving this studio tonight.”

after a long moment, he strokes your back lazily and mutters, “next time you ignore me, i’ll fuck you right on top of the damn mixing board.”

you laugh breathlessly, still trembling. “i dare you.”

“oh, you will, sweetheart,” he smirks, voice low and dangerous. “you fucking will.”

“we’re not leaving this studio tonight.”

848 notes · View notes

bitterreid · 9 days ago

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🍏 I mean camaraderie! 🍏

REQUEST summary: When Spencer suddenly gets scared he's too vanilla in bed and he (quite clumsily) tries his hand at being more dominant, you quickly assure him that you love his sweet and gentle ways. Cue cutesy sex <3

wordcount: 4k (I got carried away)

content warnings: smut! MDNI! dirty talk, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, talking about feelings/sex, fem!reader gets called names containing 'girl', it's a build-up but the smut is worth it guys, promise, (((Also a little extra warning: doing the things or reading the books reader says she doesn't like is completely fine!! :) this is just lovey-dovey smut hihi)))

A/N: This is the first request I've ever gotten and I am STOKED. I had a lot of fun writing this because at times I genuinely felt like Spencer here, completely out of my depth hahahaha, i literally had to google "bad spicy booktok quotes" for this lolll :') great request, I hope you enjoy, my dear anon!! :) (everyone else, feel free to request!!)

🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏

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Spencer had just been… curious, okay? He had just seen one too many girls on the subway, on the train, in the park, in a café, everywhere, it seemed, reading that book. That stupid book. "Dark Fantasy" the back had read. Spencer hadn't known what to imagine. The Middle Ages? Anyway, the cover had stuck in his brain. Stupid eidetic memory.

So, the next time he found himself in a bookstore, it wasn't his fault he gravitated towards the familiar dark purple cover art. He had picked it up idly, innocently, just flipped through it absentmindedly. He swore. It's not his fault he reads faster than the average reader. It's not his fault he read the whole thing in ten minutes standing in that stupid Y/A section of that stupid store.

He hadn't know what to think of it. The thing these men (men? fairies? fae? whatever.) did to these women… did people actually like that? Did you like that?

Spencer had spent his entire life feeling as if there was an unwritten code the whole world just naturally knew by heart, except for him, so it suddenly seemed scarily plausible that this was the same thing all over again. That everyone knew these kinds of things were the things normal people did, said, thought, and he just didn't know it. So he turned to the only source that had never let him down: academia. And sure enough, 8.235 hits of articles, research, interviews, and other evidence detailing how women liked to be handled, talked to, treated like they did in those books.

The next few days, Spencer just couldn't shake the feeling. The feeling that he had been doing it all wrong, that he had been making a fool of himself. And that wouldn't have bothered him so much in the past, the few girls here and there that he built up his measly amount of experience with, but you, oh, there was nothing in the world that he wanted to do right more than making you feel good. The thought that you had been feeling unsatisfied after your lovemaking made him nauseous on the spot, especially because he enjoyed it so thoroughly. And you were so nice to him, so understanding of his inexperience and taking it slow, just for him. He knew you would never want to hurt him, so he assumed what was the most logical conclusion: you had been disappointed with him, but too shy to say what you wanted. Yup. That was it. (To Spencer's overthinking brain, at least.)

And so, the next time you were over at his apartment, he vowed to make it right. Only there you were, sitting on his couch, smiling at him sweetly as he brought over your matching cups of tea. He didn't know whether he could ever be a man like those ones he read about. He was made for crossword puzzles and mismatched socks, old black and white movies and cozy evenings under a blanket, not brute force or coarse language. But he was going to try tonight. It killed him to think that he was selling you short of something you deserved just because he was too inexperienced to know about it.

And he knew, vaguely, that he should just ask you what you would like, but the insecurity of the last oh-so-many years of his life gnawed at him, propelling him into rash decisions. He should just ask you what you wanted, but those guys never did, and he could be smooth. Right? He could "smirk smugly," whatever that might mean. He could just go with the flow, be chill, relax. Right?? He would just, do the things, say the words, and you would like it. You would be pleasantly surprised. Right??? He was going insane.

And of course, you noticed. "Everything okay, Spence?"

"Y- yeah!" (Could he sound any less convincing?) "Yeah, just, um, tired?" He smiled apologetically.

"Aw," your smile in comparison was broad and lovely, the picture of fondness, "you should get a good night's sleep tonight then."

Yeah, great. Very sexy, Spencer. He didn't know how he would ever stop being so damn soft and just man up. For you.

"You should tell me if I should get out of your hair, okay?" You set your teacup down on the coffee table, "you probably have to get up early tomorrow, so…"

"No!" he blurted out before he even caught himself. Your eyebrows shot up in response, an amused albeit confused quirk playing on your lips. "I, um, I thought we could…" god, what was wrong with him? He should just, ummm, kiss you? He didn't even know.

He breathed out, hands flexing against the soft fabric of his couch, looking you in the eyes. Your expression was warm and kind, which only made him more nervous.

You let your head fall to the side, looking at him inquisitively. Spencer's heart soared at the little genture, his eyes no doubt betraying his nerves, or his impending insanity. To his utter surprise, you shuffled closer to him on the couch, lacing your fingers through his, which were (to his own surprise) still flexing and relaxing in a steady rhythm. You didn't say anything, just looked at him with your round, shiny eyes, but it was enough to turn Spencer into a puddle.

He decided to test the water, still never entirely sure of whether he understood your context clues, even after having been intimate with you multiple times by now. Still, he ventured into a slow kiss, his lips brushing yours while you stroked the top of his hand with your thumb. You kissed him back immediately, to his relief.

Spencer was fighting off the butterflies, but no amount of willpower could withstand the plush softness of your lips. His instinct was to go pliable under your touch, let you kiss him stupid here on his couch, but he had an agenda tonight. So he willed his hands to take a careful hold of your face, gaining control of the kiss. You betrayed no surprise, no particular reaction, you just went along with him. So Spencer upped his antics. His kisses became deeper, his brows furrowing in concentration.

Your response was just as lovely as always. You moothed his hair out of his face and went along with the deep lull of his kisses, moving in tandem with his body. Spencer had to fight not to just give in to the sweetness of your kisses, of your careful touches to his neck and chest. Still he tried to be more dominant, in his own clumsy ways. He wanted to push you into a horizontal position and crawl over you, but what happened was that he gave a light nudge to your shoulder and you fell backwards voluntarily, smiling up at him and softly weaving your fingers through his hair.

You made it very difficult to give you what you wanted, Spencer thought vaguely. So he continued on with his quest. He traded your lips in for your neck, trailing kisses from your collarbone up to your neck. You made a small, sweet noise when he placed his lips over your pulse point, and Spencer scrambled for words to reply to you. "You like that, huh?" was what came out. The words tasted foreign on his tongue.

You giggled in response, twirling the hair at the nape of Spencer's neck around your fingers. Not what he expected. He continued his kisses, reaching the opening of your blouse. He looked up at you as a form of asking for permission to unbutton it further, and you nodded with a shy smile. A surge of affection bloomed in his chest at the way you blushed when he started undoing the buttons, still bashful each time, he smiled to himself. He pushed the wave under, though, hiding his own reddening cheeks behind his hair while he worked to get the fabric off of you.

Once your blouse was discarded somewhere on the floor of his apartment, he took in the sight before him. Your skin looked smooth and soft in the dim evening light that flickered through the curtains, your glittering eyes tracking Spencer's every move. Sickeningly sweet compliments threatened to spill over his lips, but he was unsure they would fit his performance tonight. So he gathered his courage and instead commanded you to "open your legs for me." You obeyed swiftly, albeit with that confused glint back in your eyes. Spencer positioned himself between your legs, leaning his hands next to your head. Everything in him wanted to oppose his brain when it made him say "good girl," but he pushed through. The words leaving his lips and settling into the air felt odd. He immediately went in for a kiss, as part of the plan, or to hide from you, he wasn't sure, cutting off your confused stare.

Your hands didn't quite know what to do, he registered, but eventually they found their place on his neck. Your kisses didn't betray any more enthusiasm than usual, he noted disappointedly. He must have been doing it wrong. What did those guys in the books do? Snarl? He could not, in good faith, bring himself to do that. He mentally flipped through the pages, unsure of where to go next.

He let his hand drop down to the button on your jeans, opening it swiftly (at least one thing that went right) and zipped the zipper down. You lifted your hips up while not breaking the kisses, so that Spencer could shimmy you out of them and throw them with your blouse. The kisses had grown passionate and deep, your pupils blown wide when Spencer eventually pulled back. You looked angelic. Your hair splayed out on the couch cushions, your lips kissed red and puffy, and your lidded eyes intently focussed on him. All he wanted to do was kiss you for ages, until the sun set and you would fall asleep in his arms, but alas, he swallowed his lovesick daydreams down. Instead he took a hold of your hips, squeezing the soft flesh before pulling you forward by them so that you came to lie flat on your back. You let out a startled gasp, blinking your eyes cartoonishly up at him. Spencer took this as a good sign, giving your plush thigh another experimental squeeze, but your hand resting on his wrist halted his movements.

"Okay Spence, what's going on?" your voice was not angry, rather, slightly bewildered, emphasised by the way your one brow was raised higher than the other. Spencer immediately felt the heat rush to his face, feeling like he just got caught red-handed. His big baby deer eyes wide like he was frozen in front of nearing headlights.

"Nothing…" was his - very convincing - response.

"Spence," you were smiling now, the corners of your mouth quirking up as you shuffled yourself to sit upright opposite Spencer.

"You didn't… like it?" Spencer cringed at the insecure tone in his voice but didn't know where to hide it.

You blinked at him for a second. "I didn't, um, expect it?" you offered, your smile seeping into your tone.

"But you… want… that? Stuff like that, right?" he fidgeted with his hands in his lap, looking unsure of his very own claims now that he said it out loud. "R- rougher?"

You let out a confused little laugh, "what would make you think that, Spence?" Your tone was affectionate, the crinkles next to your eyes betraying your fondness for your clueless boyfriend.

His cheeks must have been quite literally on fire by this point, as he scrambled for answers he suddenly couldn't seem to find.

You reached out, caressing his cheek with your hand, "It's okay, we can talk about this," you tried to reassure him.

Spencer was wiggling in his seat, annoyed with himself on all fronts, and unable to stop himself from blurting everything out all at once: "I just, okay, um I stumbled upon this book and," he raked his fingers through his hair, realising how stupid his explanation was about to sound, "and all girls around were suddenly reading it, so i thought it must be, good, then, so I found it in the book store and read it and it was, um, spicy? Is that what they call it?" If the floor had decided to swallow him whole at that point, Spencer would have been thankful. "So I thought, since everyone seemed to like that sort of thing I would research it, and I found all these papers on dirty talk and rough sex and dominance, so I thought, I assumed…" he trailed off when seeing the look of equal parts confusion and amusement on your face.

You couldn't hold back your laughter anymore, breaking into a fit of giggles at the huge dismay of Spencer's burning cheeks. He felt his eyes grow impossibly wider, afraid he had messed up forever.

"You?? Reading smut?? Spencer, oh my god, that is both adorable and so so so stupid, babe," you said through all the giggles. Spencer joined in with a hesitant giggle of his own, starting to see his ridiculous thought process in perspective. "Why didn't you just ask me about it?"

To his relief, you didn't sound accusatory, just soft and sincere, supported by your bright smile. "Yeah, huh," he chuckled, "hindsight sure is 20/20, huh?" he felt his nervous energy slowly flow out of him at your gentle stare. "I know I should have, I just wanted to 'fix' everything on my own, without," he looked away, "without disappointing you further…"

"Disappointing me?" you exclaimed, genuine worry in your expression, "Spencer, you haven't disappointed me once. I'm perfectly satisfied, baby, did I not show that enough? I never, ever, wanted to make you feel like you were lacking, in any regard."

"No! No," he was quick to defend, "you did nothing wrong, at all. I think I'm just, I don't know, you're more experienced than me and I thought I was just missing the mark? I thought maybe you just didn't dare to ask for what you really wanted." He smoothed his palm over his face, spilling all of his inner thoughts taking a toll on him.

"Spencer," his name on your lips sounded sweet, like it had gotten drenched in syrup, it was Spencer's favourite sound. "Please believe me when I say that you give me everything I want and more." your hand came up to cup his cheek and Spencer immediately leaned into your touch, embarrassingly aware of his own neediness. "I wish you would have just asked me about it, because then I could have told you that I love your sweet and gentle ways. I love the way you make me feel cherished."

You were looking up at him with big, honest eyes, and Spencer started to wonder how or why his brain would ever lead him away from this soft, quiet intimacy between the two of you. "I'm sorry," he offered, a weak rebuttal, as he kissed the inside of your wrist.

"Don't apologise, silly," you leaned in, brushing your lips against his. He kissed back immediately, soft, slow, as tenderly as his need for you would allow him.

You crawled over him, still only in your underwear, and positioned yourself in his lap. Spencer's hands immediately fell to your waist, addicted to the feeling of your soft skin. Your kisses grew deeper, impossibly more intimate, as you pushed your chest into his, craving closeness.

When Spencer pulled away, eyelids heavy with want, he groaned softly at the sight of your red, puffy lips, shiny with his spit. "You mean it? everything? " He had to ask, he had to.

"I mean it. Everything." Your response was easy and immediate. Spencer detected no doubt in your voice, and he would know. So he kissed you again, with an almost shaking feeling, pouring himself into you. The way you gasped into his mouth sent shivers down his spine.

When you pulled back, both breathing heavily, your lips immediately found his neck, kissing a stripe up to his ear, where you started whispering sweet nothings that sent heat straight through his body. "I like your hands, so strong and big, but so gentle," "and I love the sounds you make," "and how you touch me like i'm delicate, makes me feel so special, Spence," each one of your compliments was punctuated with more kisses to his neck.

Spencer didn't know what to do with himself, lost in your voice and your praise. He wondered what he must have done in a previous life to deserve the most gorgeous girl ever, in his lap, almost naked, telling him how good he made her feel. His hands squeezed your hips, softly this time, and the small moan that left your lips afterwards made him dizzy.

"And I love the way you talk to me," your compliments just kept coming, "all sweet and loving, makes me feel really pretty."

"You are," he answered immediately, his voice hoarse to his own ears, "you are very pretty, gorgeous even, I- just look at you," his hands smoothed up and down your back. "Look at you…" he was almost whispering now, completely lost in you.

You giggled into his neck, "so are you, my pretty boy."

Spencer didn't know whether he would survive. His head fell back, giving you even more access to his neck, while he felt your hips softly grind on his erection through his dress pants. He thought faintly that he might have died and gone to heaven.

His fingers trailed up your back to the clasp of your bra, though he waited for your nod against his skin to undo it. He threw it with the rest of your clothes, into oblivion, and snaked a hand between your bodies to palm your breasts. The moan he got after grazing your nipple had him salivating, wanting to hear you fall apart entirely.

"Baby," his voice sounded breathy, "can I take care of you, please?"

"Of course," you withdrew from his neck, cheeks hot and eyes dark.

"Need to taste you," he mused while carefully laying you down on his couch, making sure you were comfortable. Kissing down your body until he reached the hem of your panties.

"Fuck," he groaned when he saw the small wet patch that had formed.

You smiled bashfully, giving permission for Spencer to pull the fabric down your legs and throw it god knows where.

Spencer was, once again, completely enamoured by you. He let his fingers slide through your folds, collecting the slick and bringing it up to your clit to circle it slowly. He watched your face intently, pride blooming in his chest with every moan and eyeroll he got out of you. He positioned himself between your thighs, fully intent on worshipping you for as long as he could hold out.

He started by kissing your plush thighs, the soft skin feeling heavenly under his lips. As he started to get closer and closer to where you needed him most, you grew more desperate, whining his name and making Spencer almost delirious with your voice. "I know, baby, I know," he shushed you, finally planting a kiss in your needy clit.

You involuntarily bucked your hips up, finally getting some release, and Spencer watched in awe as your eyes screwed shut when he licked a broad stripe over your pussy. "Feels so good, Spence," you whined, just as Spencer thought it would be impossible to turn him on even more.

He continued licking and sucking just as you liked, your hands eventually finding a home in his curly hair, softly running your fingers through it. Spencer thought he could spend eternity there, between your thighs.

He carefully introduced a finger, revelling in the reaction he got, and started pumping in and out of your slick opening. It didn't take long before you could take two, as Spencer's gaze remained transfixed on the way you were swallowing his digits. "You're doing so well, baby."

"I'm- I'm getting close," you gasped, and Spencer could feel it. He could feel you squeezing his fingers. The thought alone made him crazy, making him go faster, chasing your sweet release.

You fell apart on his fingers with a last, high-pitched moan, arching your back beautifully for him. He worked you through your hugh, being careful not to overstimulate you.

"Was that good?" the words had left his mouth before he could register them, betraying his insistent insecurity.

You were looking satisfied and dazed from your spot between his throw pillows, smiling up at him through your lashes. "Good? Spence, that is the understatement of the year. I think I saw stars."

Your bright giggle calmed his nerves as he joined in, leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.

"But now," you started as you pushed yourself upright, "it's time to take care of you, pretty boy."

Spencer revelled in your attention, willingly going along with your motions to undress him. He watched as you struggled with the buttons on his shirt, helping you with a broad smile, and once again mentally thanked whatever deity and deemed him worthy of you when you skillfully undid his belt and trousers. Freeing his aching dick out of his underwear, you couldn't help but stroke him a few times. Spencer hissed at the contact, already sensitive.

"Such a pretty boy," you mused. Spencer's dick twitched at your words, but he didn't have it in him anymore to feel embarrassed. Instead he eagerly helped you into his lap, your pussy hovering over his needy dick.

He positioned himself at your opening, dragging his tip though your folds a few times to gather your wetness, enjoying the little hitch in your breath when he brushed against your sensitive clit. You started to sink down on him, exhaling harshly once you felt the stretch of his tip at your opening, "take it easy, baby, no rush," Spencer reassured you, marvelling at how good you looked on top of him. You sank down on him slowly, taking all of him and letting out a content sound that matched Spencer's low moan.

You started riding him slowly, guided by his large hands on your hips, and Spencer could hardly hold it together. He drew you in for a passionate kiss, but he soo had to halt those efforts because he could do little else but moan and sigh against your lips. You were in equal levels of disarray, loving the way he felt buried deep inside you just as much as he loved it.

"Fuck, baby, oh, god I'm- I'm so close already," Spencer managed between breathy gasps.

"That's alright, Spence, ah- me too."

Spencer saw this as his perfect chance, taking a stronger hold of your hips and driving his dick into you at the exact angle that made you a whining hot mess on top of him. Thank god for his eidetic memory, and the way you felt clenching around him. He made sure your orgasm came first, feeling your pussy squeeze his dick deliciously as your nails dug into his skin with a raw, drawn-out moan. Spencer followed seconds behind you, completely overwhelmed by how good you felt pulsing around him, spilling his load into you while holding your body impossibly close to his, babbling your name and sweet nothings as he reached his high.

You rode out your pleasure together, eventually stilling in each other's arms and catching your breaths.

"Spencer, oh my god…" that was all you could muster to say to your boyfriend in your current state, but Spencer understood. He gleamed with pride, planting a kiss on your shoulder and slowly taking your face in his hands to kiss the tip of your nose.

"Let me get you cleaned up, pretty girl," he said after a while of basking in your collective post orgasm glow.

You were pouting as you languidly willed yourself to get off of him, but with another kiss and a promise of cuddling later, you agreed for Spencer to fetch you a towel. As he walked into his bathroom, he couldn't help but notice all the small marks you had left on his neck and chest, smiling to himself in the dim evening light, completely satisfied.

🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏

I am but a humble fanfic writer and i beg for your feedback guys :))))))) xxxxxxxx

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader smut #down bad for this nerd once again #bitterwrites

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disgustingtwitches · 11 months ago

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141 as clients for sexworker reader!

//König and Nikto are here too//

MDNI

Ghost

You rarely see him, but you look forward to hearing from him. He always books multiple hours, sometimes even overnights. It's just hour after hour of pounding. Every hole you can take it. You tell him not to leave marks, but you don't really mean it. You know it. He knows it. Bitemarks and bruises are on your skin for days afterwards, he pays for you to send pictures of them healing. Thank God your regulars don't give a shit about the marks. Even if they did you wouldn't stop him from leaving them. Can't really stop him from leaving them. He asks you to wear makeup so he can fuck it off your face. You recently found out he's been stealing your fake eyelashes when they fall off, he collects them like trophies(???) Only praises you when he's felt you've earned it, which was rare. Never said I love you. Don't think he knows those words.

Gaz

Ugh, perfect client. Always a gentleman and really hot. Like "why are you hiring me when you can fuck anybody?" hot. Such a pretty dick too, has a little beauty mark on his shaft you like to kiss. He books three hours every other week just to cuddle and fuck. Really big on pleasing you, so he'll request you not to wear underwear just so he can pull your pants down as soon as you walk through his door and start eating you out. Sometimes when he really wants the "girlfriend experience" he'll slide into you while your spooning and watching Netflix. Has accidently said "I love you" once while ploughing into you, his lips pressed right up to your ear. You don't bring it up.

Price

One of the older clients. Big pussy eater. Huge. Likes to hire you to do stuff around his flat in a skirt and g-string so he can pull it to the side and eat you out while you're doing whatever he asks you to do. Watching TV? Cleaning the windows? Folding laundry? Sometimes he just straight up wants you to sit on his face, holding the skirt up so he can still see your face. When he's finally satiated, he'll get his. Sitting you on his lap and helping you bounce up and down, still in that skirt. Says I love you, but not to you. To your pussy. Literally looks at your pussy and says it.

Soap

So, so weird. Likes to act out scenes he sees in porn. Seriously. Like "help me I'm stuck in the washing machine" or "did you order a pizza with extra sausage". He'll buy outfits for the scenes; cheerleader, nurse, maid, even has a oddly realistic army uniform, right down to the boots. You get the point. One day he wanted to "try ass stuff", because he thought it "looked cool". He said I love you as soon as you stuck the tip of your strap-on in him and continues to do so every time you fuck him in the ass.

König

Yeah... Sorry to be basic but he's a bondage guy through and through. He likes to switch it up sometimes but he's mostly the dominating party. Not the kind to care about fancy shibari, really just hogties and knots that will keep you in your place. Taught you a few moves to take him down when he wants that. Wants you to use him for your pleasure when you're dominating, just like he uses you for his own. Doesn't say I love you. But he does teach you to say "I am yours" in German. So whenever he asks you a question in German, your line is always "Ja, Ich bin dein, Oberst."

Nikto

Very clingy. He was odd off rip. You were kind of uncomfortable with him because you didn't really understand him. Then he became endearing when you finally "get" him. He's sweet. Doesn't want to be alone. He'll pay anything just to have you sit next to him. Watching TV. He sits on the floor between your legs while you sit on the couch and play with his hair. He tells you lame jokes while eating whatever you wanted that day. One day you decide to tell him a corny joke too.

"We... don't think that is very funny."

Of course, he has needs. It depends on the day, but he's always changing the dynamics. Very much a switch at heart. He'll have you bent over the table while holding your jaw to look up into his eyes. Making you say thank you everytime he strokes into you. Other days he'll want to be rode while you hold him, "handsome man," you say between every kiss, "love you so much," while he whimpers under you, "you deserve to feel good." He says I love you. A lot. You say it back. Whether it's because you want to continue getting paid or you actually care about him, you're not too sure at this point.

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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

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📃 Desk Duty 📃

Unit Chief Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Summary: After taking a bullet on a case, Spencer orders you to desk duty. After two months of pushing papers and his pushing you away for fear of hurting you, you've had enough.

Warnings: Established BDSM scenario, public sex, masturbation (female and male), mentions of sex toys, breaking and entering, multiple orgasms, squirting, shoe riding, slapping (ass, face, pussy), wet/dirty/messy sex, deep-throaring, face fucking, exhibitionism, risky sex, creampie, sloppy sex, pet play (puppy), Hard Dom Spencer, bratty sub reader, degradation (slut, whore, bitch used). Confessions of love at the end because I'm not a monster.

A/N: Hello, it's me, painfully single, back with another in a series of fics that I think will haunt my (wet) dreams for eternity. Thank you to @lightvixxen for requesting shoe riding all those moons ago, I am so glad we share in the same brand of brain rot. Enjoy~♡

Masterlist || Bingo Board

The first time you were shot, you were surprised it hurt so much. Of course, you knew it was going to hurt. You knew you'd eventually be shot.

But the graze to your arm stung like a bitch, and had you whimpering on the floor of a warehouse like a small child who'd fallen off their bike for the first time.

You'd picked yourself back up, and, luckily, the shot had avoided doing any serious damage, but you were relegated to desk duty for two months after. Just until you could prove you weren't traumatised, and there wasn't any permanent damage to your arm.

Two months of staying home while your boss gallivanted around the country, happily diving in front of bullets and jumping on bombs. Two months of staying home waiting for him to come back and rail you.

You'd been sleeping with Spencer Reid practically since he'd become the Unit Chief, and with the announcement that there were only a few more weeks left until Emily Prentiss came back from her special task force, you were really losing time alone in the office you'd been enjoying the pleasures of one another in.

Of course, there would still be motel rooms for you later, but soon he wouldn't have the keys to your room, making your secret trysts slightly riskier. You weren't sure you wanted everyone in the office to know just what it was the two of you were getting up to in your spare time.

So, with your last two months of freedom relegated to desk duty, you sulked.

Spencer was clear that he was leaving you behind so you could recuperate, but you didn't exactly expect him to go cold turkey.

You'd been apart before, having been sent on separate inmate interviews, and you'd made do with a poorly connected video call, a dildo and your hands, getting all the inspiration you needed watching him pump his cock in his fist.

But somehow, your injury had made him borderline chaste, and he refused to even touch you while you were still in - his words, not yours - recovery.

It had been a month since he'd fucked you. Hell, it had been a month since you'd even seen his cock. A month since you'd had any kind of orgasm, first because your dominant hand had been out of action, and then because you'd felt so frustrated without him, you couldn't bring yourself to do it alone.

He messaged you daily, called practically once every eight hours, and made sure you were eating and sleeping even from halfway across the country.

But he didn't make any mention of your growing frustration, even as you tried your best to tempt him into sin.

A month into purgatory, you'd started hinting at your own needs. Your teammates had taken a case in Atlanta, and you'd stuck behind a days drive away and heard absolutely nothing.

You'd called, and Luke had picked up, making his presence known before you could royally screw up and beg for something to fuck.

“H-Hi, Luke. I was just wondering how the case was going. Is there anything I can help with from the office?” You asked, stammering on the phone as you pulled your hand out from between your thighs.

“You want to help? At 11pm at night?”

“Sure do! You know me… go-getter?” You stuttered the words, not even believing them yourself, biting your lip in anxiety and hoping that Luke would just think you were going stir crazy.

“I'll hand you to Reid, he's been talking about some case files you might be able to help with.”

“Thank you,” you said, breathing a sigh of relief.

You heard the phone switch hands, and then you heard movement until the line went quieter, and Spencer's voice popped into your ear.

“Y/N?”

“I miss you,” you sighed before you could say anything else, fingers sliding between your thighs before you could think to stop yourself.

“I miss you, too,” he whispered hesitantly, but you heard the smile in his voice as he answered.

“You're working so late tonight, I'd hoped…” you trailed off, feeling your skin heat as your free hands lipped into your underwear and you touched yourself for real this time.

“We think he's working under the same MO as the Night Stalker, like a copycat, so we're keeping to late hours. What's that sound?”

“Nothing,” you said, giving your lie away almost immediately with a moan.

“Are you… Y/N, are you touching yourself?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“I told you I missed you. It's been a month since you've touched me, someone has to do it-”

“Stop it.”

His words were blunt, and there was no hint of excitement in them, no telling if he was saying this so he could play a part in your unravelling.

“What?”

“Stop touching yourself. Y/N, you are not allowed to touch yourself.”

“Not-? Spencer, what the fuck!” You exploded, sitting up from your comfortable position on the bed, set alight in indignance.

“I'm the only one that gets to touch you like that, you're not allowed to cum unless I'm there,” he ground out, and just as you heard the smile in his voice earlier, you heard the frustration and arousal now.

“Well, Spencer, if you'd have brought me along on this case instead of leaving me here, maybe you'd get a say in who gets to make me cum.”

“Y/N, you're injured, and you haven't been cleared to fly. A doctor needs to-”

“You're a doctor. Technically. You could sign off on me. You could've had me right there in your bed tonight, but no.”

He scoffed down the line, and you saw his face flash so vividly in your head that it pissed you off. He was hotter when he was angry.

“Nice try. I tried that myself once, but it doesn't work. Now go to sleep and get some rest.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he hung up. His words lit a fire in the pit of your stomach, and you threw the phone down in frustration.

He wasn't listening again, and you were sick of it, and you we're sick of pushing paper at a cubical when you should've been out in the field doing your actual job. You were sick of being celibate and at home alone, when you should've been in a dark corner somewhere letting your boss use your body, letting him pin you to the wall and work out his frustrations.

You should've had your lips wrapped around his cock, you should've had his hands buried in your cunt, slapping your ass, his teeth teasing your nipples, something.

Instead, you had your phone camera and a bed, and a personal vendetta against the word 'no' coming from Spencer Reid's mouth. If he wanted you to stop touching yourself, he'd better get his ass home and make you.

Shedding your clothes, you set up your camera and began your week long crusade.

The first video received a response in the form of a call you let go straight to voice mail as you recorded the second one.

He didn't call again after that, but you knew he watched each and every video you sent.

You knew he watched the video of you fucking yourself on a wall mounted dildo in the shower. You wondered if he let him imagine it was him, taking his cock in hand in the morning as he washed and prepared himself for the day.

You knew he watched the video of you playing with your boobs alone in the elevator at work after hours. You wondered if he was still working late when he saw that one, or if, like last time, maybe Luke had grabbed his phone first and seen it before him. .

You knew he watched the video you shot in his apartment. It wasn't that hard to get into, knowing exactly where the spare key was hidden and letting yourself in comfortably. You let yourself dress in one of his shirts and set the camera up, pushing a bullet vibe inside yourself, and turning on the camera, playing with the hem of the shirt and the sheets below until you finally flashed the camera and him the sight of your wet cunt.

You filmed a few videos there, fingering yourself, spreading yourself so he could see just how far you'd opened yourself up for him, sinking down on to progressively bigger silicone cocks and mumbling his name over and over again.

You knew he watched every video, even though you'd sent ten over the space of an evening. You knew he was likely somewhere stroking his large, hot cock, wishing he was buried deep in you, but too stubborn to let you know that now.

The day after the case ended, you knew that his return meant punishment, but you couldn't stop yourself.

An hour before the teams expected arrival time, you excused yourself to Spencer's office. The first time he'd fucked you had been in there. He'd pushed you over his lap and slapped some sense into you, spanking you until you were a drippy mess waiting for his cock to enter you sharp and fast.

You'd since sucked his cock under the desk more times than you could count, and the view from the window was more than familiar to you as you enjoyed being pushed up against it as he took you from behind, the both of you revelling in the fact that anyone could see you defiling the building together.

With half an hour to spare before he returned and ended your fun and games, you mounted the arm of his couch and began rubbing yourself against it. You rocked your hips slowly back and forth against it - as horny as you were, it was still embarrassing to be so horny you'd resulted to humping pieces of furniture to meet your needs.

You'd thought about getting drunk and finding a random dick to take home with you, but it didn't interest you half so much as fucking with Spencer Reid did. You'd never had the talk about exclusivity, but you knew just as well as he did that you were locked in. He was your boyfriend, whether he realised it or not.

And now, you simply needed his cock so badly, nothing else would do. The closest you could get was a piece of furniture he'd fucked you on before.

You slipped your panties off quickly as your timer sounded a ten minute warning, knowing his plane would be landing any second now. You'd factored in the walk from the jet to the office, praying to the gods above that he took the initiative to get ahead on paperwork instead of going straight home.

You rocked back and forth on the arm of the couch until his door opened narrowly and he let himself in, just as your clit rubbed the corner of the couch and you moaned out gloriously.

“Y/N,” he hissed as he slammed the door shut. You didn't stop even as he crossed the room and grabbed your hips, instead lunging for his lips and meeting them with your own.

Your tongue clashed with him for the first time in a lifetime, and you whimpered at how good he still felt pressed up against you. His chest was a solid shield, and your puffy nipples pushed up against it, rubbing deliciously with each grind. His hands were large, his fingers long as they clawed themselves around your hips and drew you up.

“You just can't follow orders, can you?” He asked between kisses, between breaths where you weren't sure if he'd slap you or shove his fingers down your throat. “I should fire you,” he whispered as he reluctantly pulled away.

“But Spencer,” you said, gasping jokingly as you pawed at the front of his pants. “Who would you fuck on cases then? Who would be your controversially young fuck doll?”

You meant it to be a joke, but the slap he delivered to your ass made you think twice as you clapped a hand over your mouth.

His hands roughly pulled you into him again, and you were unable to rise up enough again before he hit you again. You jilted forwards with a little moan and just gave in to the sensation, pressing your face into the pillows as your hips rose.

“You're acting like such a desperate little slut, I don't think you deserve to even lick my cock. Fuck, I don't even think you deserve to lick my shoe,” his words cut deep as you realised how angry he was, his fingers tangling in your hair he yanked you upwards.

“Wait, please - Spencer, please, I need-”

“Need what? You need to suck cock? You need to put yourself on display in a public place? Need everyone around you to know just what it is we do when we're alone?” With each question, he worked on bruising your ass cheeks harder, until he finally pushed you to the floor, and you sank down, automatically spreading your legs for him.

“Pathetic. You don't deserve this cock, baby.”

“No!” You cried out, not willing to accept that outcome at all as you panicked. “I'll do anything, please, Spencer, I'll do anything!”

You whimpered and cried out in real frustration and fear, knowing that he absolutely would kick you out if you didn't act fast. Spencer may have been fine with you taking control some days, but this obviously wasn't one of them. You sat yourself on your knees and clasped your hands together, attempting to seem half the serious devotee and half the irresistible vixen whose chest was accentuated by the movement.

“Okay. Show me just how much of a desperate slut you are,” he said, lifting his foot from the ground and nudging it between your thighs.

Reluctantly, you widened your stance, spreading apart just enough for him to notch his shoe against your clothed pussy.

“Ride my shoe, Y/N. You're such a good little boot-licker. It shouldn't be a problem, right?” As if to answer your own question for you, he bobbed his knee gently, and your clit ground into the edge of his shoelaces, causing a sharp, fast burst of pleasure to spark through you.

You still were too shocked to answer, but he smoothed your hair from your eyes as he continued to bounce his foot, and you left all of your concerns behind, slowly grinding down.

“What a dirty little slut, I didn't think you'd actually do it.”

Wrapping your arms around his leg, you pressed your hips up and down hesitantly, looking into his eyes as your mouth dropped open in a silent moan.

“That's it, good girl,” he said, letting his leg go still as you did all the work, shaking your hips back and forth on his shoe as you gave him pleading looks, unable to form words for the overwhelming shame and embarrassment.

“You look like a puppy,” he blurted out, grabbing a handful of hair and pulling it back, hard, exposing your throat to him as he watched you with curious eyes. “Like one of those puppies who gets so excited to see you, she starts humping you. So fucking horny and desperate. You wouldn't even care who was in the room with us, right now, would you? You'd just keep going until yiu came.”

You gasped as he slapped your face, tongue falling out of your mouth as he inspected his little play puppy. He smiled, as if happy with your reactions, and leant back on the sofa, releasing your hair from his grip as you continued to struggle in vain toward your orgasm.

It was another two or three seconds before you realised he was pulling his hard cock from his pants, and another moment or two before he slid his hands back into your hair and guided your dumb, stupid, wet mouth over the top of his cock quickly.

You let him move your head just how he liked, let him push you down almost farther than you thought you could go. You ground your bare clit down into his shoe as you deepened your breaths, relaxing your body as you took inch after inch of his cock down your throat.

His hands were wound so tight in your hair that there wasn't space to move. You gagged, once and twice, but he held you in place still, enjoying the spit that spluttered around the base of his cock, the spasms of your contracting throat against the tip and length of his cock. You breathed deeply, ignoring the feeling of his pubic hair tickling your nose, scratching your cheek as you flattened out your tongue under his cock. You wished he would move, wished he would give you the space you needed to cum faster.

The desperation of the last few months built up and built up, and you knew that you were close to cumming, your hips rocking out of tempo now, crashing into his foot wildly, ass shaking as you felt his shoelaces rubbing uncomfortably against your thighs.

“God, what a pathetic little bitch, are you going to cum? Cum on my shoe, whore, show me how fucking desperate you are.”

You felt the exact moment your body convulsed against him, you knew the exact movement that made you cum, because you felt the flood of moisture pool underneath you as you squirted all over his floor. You made a note of reminding him to replace the rug before Emily returned.

Your whole body shook as you sat in the pool of your own cum, but he refused to let you pull away.

“Has my little puppy made a mess? What a shame. You can't stop yet, though.”

His grip on your face somehow became stronger, though not unpleasant, as he pulled your head up the length of his cock. You spluttered slightly, feeling the tension slip out of you as he emptied your throat. You didn't have more than a second to react before he quickly snapped your head back down over his cock, down to the base of his dick.

“Keep up, Y/N, this is what you wanted, remember.”

You choked on his cock, and he smiled down at you, taking your gags for nods as he proceeded to fuck your throat, deep and hard.

“So wet and warm for me, like a perfect little pet,” he said, hips already lifting off the couch as he tried to sink deeper into you.

You knew from experience that he'd soon grow tired of the limits of your mouth. He liked to hear you. He liked to see you drooling rather than feel it on his skin. As much as he could force his cock down your throat - and you deeply enjoyed when he did - he could get deeper if he sank into your pussy and you both knew it.

This part was just to lube his cock up, nice and wet, until he could take you nice and quick without having to touch your pussy. He needed you nice and wet and ready for him, especially on days like today where you'd been nothing but a cock tease in need of a harsh fucking. You deserved nothing more.

As predicted, he pulled your head off his cock after a few seconds and hauled you to your feet. You tried to climb onto him, to grip his cock in your hand and just sink down where you belonged, but he stood, too, lifting you up with him.

“Window,” he said, and you knew he must be close if he was ordering you around one word at a time. You nodded, but he kept his hands on you, moving you to the window quickly.

You knew he'd bend you over, take you against the outdoor window, whispering in your ear that anyone outside could see you if they just looked up. Instead, this time, he moved you to the opposite side of the office. The window he pressed you against was the one overlooking your desks, the one where, should he happen to open the blinds, every member of your team would be able to look up and watch you take his dick.

“Everyone left,” he whispered quickly as he shifted the blinds up an inch so you could see.

You breathed a sigh of relief noting that it was as empty as he claimed, but it didn't last long as he gently pressed his cock into your cunt, finally filling you how you'd needed to be filled for the last 60 days.

“Fuck, t-thank you, sir!”

All thoughts about the office below faded as he lifted your leg in his hand and let it rest on the edge of the window, pushing your face against the cold glass. Your office may have been empty, but that wasn't to say that there wasn't someone working late in the other departments, a janitor happening to pass through.

You knew, but you didn't care as you begged him to fill you up more and more.

“Just like that, just like that, yes!!! Fuck yes, Spencer I missed this, I missed you. Missed you so much,” you moaned as your hands slipped down the glass, already fogged with condensation, your hot breath hitting the cold glass.

“Needed this? You've been fucking yourself nightly for the last week. You didn't need this like I needed this,” he moaned, biting into your neck with a sharp kiss as you moaned loudly for him.

“Two m-months. You haven't fucked me for two months, what else was I supposed to do?”

He groaned in your ear again, reaching a hand around you and slapping your clit as he formulated an answer.

“Rest, you were supposed to rest,” he said, thrusts speeding up as your cunt gripped him tighter and tighter the closer you got to your second orgasm.

He groaned and pressed your face into the glass, holding you there and screwing his eyes shut as you both chased release.

“I didn't want to rest, I w-wanted to be by your side.”

His head rested against your shoulder as he felt the last waves of pleasure race towards him. His hand pushed down to your clit and rubbed you, sending you right over the edge with him as he filled you with his cum.

Neither of you could stay upright, collapsing down to the floor in a heap. Usually when he came inside you, he waited a few moments to pull out so he didn't make so much mess when he did. But in his exhaustion, in your shared bliss of finally reaching that precipice after so long, he slipped out early, as cum was still shooting from him.

You heaped together on the floor, chests heaving as you lay on top of him, your peace only broken by a single thought.

“We..-’ you gasped, breathing unsteady. “We need to deep clean this office before Emily comes back.”

He looked down at you, a look so serious and shocked you wondered if he was angry. And then he laughed. Short and soft, he giggled, and you couldn't help but join in, wrapping your arms around your stomach as it began to hurt, chest heaving from the pain of all your joy.

He sat up and gave you a hand up as well as you surveyed the damage.

“The rug has to go,” you said, feeling hot and embarrassed as you noticed the new wet stain on the near offensive fluffy thing.

“We should probably get some new throw pillows, too,” he remarked, and you nodded with a grimace. You made to stand up, but your legs felt weak, and you wobbled, but he was there to catch you, as he stood.

"Maybe just a new couch," you muttered, flushed with heat as you remembered how you'd humped the arm rest not even twenty minutes ago.

He closed the blinds before moving back to the couch and sitting you down on his lap once again, such a familiar place for you to be these days.

“You….” He started, worrying g his bottom lip with his teeth. “You really missed me?”

You startled, taken aback by the question. You thought the videos had made it clear, let alone the last half hour of intimacy.

“I… Yes, Spencer. I missed you a lot. I always miss you.”

“You… you do?”

You nodded again and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear.

“Y/N, when I am no longer your boss, in approximately a weeks time, would you possibly consider being my girlfriend?”

For the second time in the last two minutes, the man had you floored. And perhaps a little bit angry.

“I'm not… I'm not your girlfriend now?”

“Hmm? Oh, I-”

“Because I already told my friends about you, and I was definitely saying the word boyfriend, but if that's not what this is, I can correc-”

You saw the panicked look in his eye as he pulled you in for one last kiss.

“That's what this is!” he said frantically, cutting you off when you opened your mouth with another kiss. “I thought you wouldn't think that this was- no!” He kissed you again as you tried again to speak.

“Listen to me! I'm o-older than you, I thought I had to ask still. Do people not ask anymore?” He kissed you before you could answer.

“Rhetorical question.”

“I love yo-” you attempted to confess, but his lips covered yours swiftly, even as his eyes opened wide when he pulled away.

“Wait, no, say that again,” he begged, eyes weak and shiny and absolutely endearingly pathetic.

You shook your head and sealed your lips, miming, zipping them shut and throwing away the key.

“Y/N! Tell me again, tell me you love me again,” he said, kissing each of your cheeks. You poked his chest hard, and he kissed you once more.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, and kissed you again, trying to draw from your lips the words he had cut off earlier, losing himself in the pleasure of the moment as you sat together in the dark office, totally enamoured with one another.

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spicymancer · 1 year ago

Note

What was the process like for designing the ActiRangers, their civilian and suited forms? Their suits look so cool, it’s definitely clear you have a lot of familiarity with the genre while also having great ideas on how to innovate and add your own unique elements! Did they go through lots of conceptual iterations, or did they come pretty naturally? Any particular teams that inspired you, like SPD or RPM with their numbered members?

So the Actirangers started out as characters designed for a private little Tokusatsu OC jam I did with some friends! The design I submitted was Pink, (hence why she's kinda the main character of the story)

(Real name and certain background elements redacted for spoiler reasons)

So Pink's suit was the first one designed, hence how she's kinda the most basic of the Rangers. I had just got done watching Birdie Wing and Love After World Domination and thought it would be kinda fun for a golf themed sentai hero.

She was originally going to be ActiRanger 5 before I thought of the "Four/Fore" golf pun.

The rest of the team was then designed from there with each of their sports in mind and some general vibes.

I don't think they went through all that much iteration, though I will say since I tend to draw them in Black and White I sometimes mix up which parts of their suits are their color and which parts are black.

I wanted to give them each some kind of Power Weapon so I stuck to stick sports and also Table Tennis. (I am still weirdly fond of the old Penny Arcade Paint the Line comics)

As far as Power Ranger teams that inspired them, Mighty Morphin' is obviously the biggest inspo. (The Dan Mora run on the Go Go Power Rangers comics is awesome.) Time Force, S.P.D. and RPM were all on my mind as well.

For the Gambit Gang I was struggling to come up with a fun villain theme and eventually figureod out that the enemy to the "Sports" team had to be the "Chess Club". (Insert joke about polycules and board games)

Gray in particular was conceived at this point when I and wanted an Evil Ranger on their side. Chess Knights having a vague horse theme, he obviously had to be Polo! His design draws pretty heavily from Mystic Force's Koragg which is still IMO one of the sickest designs Sentai has ever cooked.

Wow that got a little more long winded than I inteded but I hope y'all enjoyed this little peek behind the curtain of the ActiRanger's development!

Thank you all for enjoying my silly OC comics and doodles!

#oc questions #actirangers

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jinxyvvrites · 1 month ago

Text

-- [ m ] do not disturb

Warnings :

MDNI. sex. filth. language. oral. writer’s own interpretation of Steve Harrington, writer has an excuse to ship ronance, roommates to lovers if you really squint, mutual crush, soft!but dominant! Steve, use of petnames ( princess, baby, etc), this is when Steve / the gang are well into their 20s, so.. yeah.... if you’re gonna get bent out of shape about anything I’m warning you about here, don’t read this. Porn with a sliver e of plot, you have been warned.

Pairing :

Steve Harrington x Female!Reader

Word Count :

4k+

Snippet:

As soon as Robin says it, you swallow hard. “Robbie..”

Another loud pop of thunder outside makes you suck in a harsh breath as you peer through the blinds at the storm that’s settled in over town. “You know I can’t be trusted alone around Steve. I almost kissed him this morning!”

“___.” Robin laughs as she rubs the bridge of her nose and waves at Nancy as Nancy makes her way into the dimly lit little video store, “I love you. I really do.” Robin scolds gently, “But I can’t keep being the buffer, okay? Look, tonight is like.. The only night Nance has her entire house to herself. And we haven’t been alone together in days. I’m going crazy.”

“I’m spending the night with Nance.”

As soon as Robin says it, you swallow hard. “Robbie..”

“I know, I just..” you blow out a ragged breath and you glare up at the flickering overhead lights. “I swear to God if the power goes out..”

You shriek again and Robin gives the phone a dirty look as she holds it away from her ear a second time, the line is filled with hissing, loud pops like it’s going to go at any second too.

“Let me guess.. She’s freaking out.” Nancy nods to the phone and Robin nods. “She is.”

“Are you almost ready?”

“Almost, baby.” Robin gives her girlfriend a chaste little peck on the cheek. Nancy blushes, a soft giggle escaping.

You’re pacing the darkness, digging around in random drawers in search of a candle, a flashlight, anything just so you’re not trapped in total darkness. And you’re trying not to think about being stuck alone in the apartment with Steve during one of the worst storms to hit Hawkins in at least five years.

At least that’s what the dee jay of your favorite station claims.

“Are you done trying to make me deaf, woman?” Robin asks, turning her attention back to you. You swear as you stub your toe on the leg of the heavy wooden coffee table Steve found at someone’s curb and dragged back, restoring it with his own two hands.

“If he hadn’t looked so fucking sexy restoring this fucking table.” you grumble, making Robin laugh. “Stub your toe?”

“More like I broke it.” you muse. “What am I supposed t’ do, Robin? I cannot trust myself around him, okay? I cannot.”

“Hear me out..” Robin laughs as she props on the counter.. “What if you just go for it.. Instead of holding it in?”

“We both know what’ll happen.”

“I’m telling you,” Robin steals a look at Steve as Steve taps his wrist and nods to the clock on the wall, “ You’re so wrong.”

“Right.” you snort, “Like Steve Harrington is into me at all. If he were, he’d have caught on when I flirt. It always worked before, Robin.” you insist. “I think you’re wrong.”

“He’s kind of a dunce.” Robin points out. It’s gotta be the millionth time she’s tried to remind you of this, you just seem hell-bent on believing that the fact Steve hasn’t picked up on your pitiful attempts to flirt that this obviously means he’s not into you.

And she just wants to see her two favorite people as happy as she is.

There’s one final clap of thunder and the line is gone. Robin grumbles and slams the phone back down onto the cradle. Steve is just locking the door and as soon as he has, the three of them rush out into the parking lot, Robin and Nancy getting into Mrs. Wheeler’s station wagon.

“Hey, wait..” Steve stops Robin.

“I’m staying with Nance, Steve. I told you this earlier.”

“This means..” Steve raises a hand, dragging it through thick hair ,, it means you're gonna be all alone.. with ___, this is.. gonna be a long night, he thinks as he takes a deep breath. It's not a big deal, right?

Except it is and he knows damn well it is. Being around you drives him crazy because he's fallen so hard for you, so fast.. And the harder he tries to fight and resist that, the worse it gets..

The rain is hard enough that it nearly drowns out what he says next and Robin grumbles.

“If you two don’t stop using me and Nance as a buffer, I swear to God.” Robin says it without thinking and Nancy nods in agreement. “We’re going to lock you in the smallest room we can find, Steve.”

“Huh?”

“She wants you. You want her. So help me God, if one of you doesn’t make a move tonight.. We’re giving you the whole night, King Steve.” Nancy calls out over rolling thunder and pouring rain as she holds the door open for Robin to get into her mom’s station wagon. “If it helps..” Robin calls out to him, “She’s scared to death right now. She hates bad weather.”

Before he can ask if they’re sure they’re not misreading everything, Robin and Nancy are gone, red glow of taillights disappearing around the corner.

Steve blows out a ragged breath. His heart feels like it’s about to beat right out of his chest at this point because he’s had himself convinced for weeks now that you’re not into him at all.

And now he’s just trying to convince himself there’s no way he’s been wrong the whole time. There’s no way what Nancy and Robin keep insisting is the truth.

Or is it?

—

You’re in the middle of lighting yet another candle when the door to the apartment swings open and Steve steps in, shaking out his hair from the rain. As he bends down to take off his Nikes, you try so hard not to stare. The dim candlelight casts a soft glow on him.

You roll your eyes at yourself.

Steve stands and sheds the scratchy green vest. You try again not to stare but you’re done for.

“Shit.” you hiss as hot melted wax drips onto your hand. You got so caught up in staring that you forgot you’d come into the room to try and find something to use as a candle holder.

Steve stops in front of you and as he pries the lit candle out of your hand, he’s staring down at you.

Quietly.

Robin and Nancy’s words repeating like a broken record in his head. The softly lit room forms a halo around you. You’re wandering around in a t-shirt. He nearly swallows his own tongue as soon as he realizes that it’s one of his, a shirt he thought he lost weeks ago.

You freeze under his intent gaze. You swallow hard as soon as you realize you’re wearing his yellow sweater. The one that smells like him with the sleeves that hang down past your fingertips.

Steve steps aside, finding a glass soda bottle. He shoves the candle into the bottle opening and places the bottle onto some little crochet thing sitting nearby just so the wax doesn’t pool and puddle onto the countertop.

But then he’s standing in front of you again.

,, There’s no way.” he tells himself. Watching as your eyes dart to his lips, linger there while you swallow hard.

When you lick your own lips, he nearly chokes on air.

“Everything okay?” he asks, gesturing to all the candles lit around the living room of the apartment.

“Mhm.” you answer. But you drop your eyes, staring down at your feet. And he picks right up on the way you flinch a little as thunder rolls outside and the wind picks up, sending a tree branch smacking against the window across the room.

He chuckles quietly.

“It’s okay.”

“Huh?” you ask, tilting your head as you look up at him. You’d been dazed, lost in thought. Willing yourself to just be brave and go for it like Robin and Nancy have been nagging you to do for weeks now.

You just can’t.

“If you’re scared of the storm.” Steve explains quietly. “It’s okay.”

“I’m not.” you insist, your words dying off as you laugh softly. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not.” Steve’s fingers curl beneath your chin and he gets you looking up at him. As he steps closer, he’s staring down at you. Searching for something, any kind of warning sign that Robin and Nancy are wrong and he needs to back off.

Your pupils are big enough that they’re nearly blotting out the color of your eyes. You glance at his lips.. At the way he’s making himself taller and keeps stepping closer and closer. When his hand rests against your hip gingerly, you suck in a breath and bite down on your lip just to keep from whining.

But you’re not fast enough. Or strong enough to hide it well. And Steve is finally all clued in.

He leans into you just a little more, body to body. “It’s not stupid.”

“We’re twenty four. I’m too old to be scared of storms and blackouts, Steve.”

“I think it’s kinda cute.” Steve wants to kick himself when he says it, but it’s too late. It’s not like he can take it back once the words have left his mouth. “I’m right here.” he mutters, a husky tone that’s foreign to his own ears, “I’m not gonna let anything happen.”

You can feel the second all the bones in your body melt and you end up leaning against him, face hidden in the front of his polo shirt. The one you like the most because the sleeves cuff his biceps.

“There ya go, princess.” he mumbles as you melt into him. When the thunder rolls outside and you hiss, your entire body tensing up, Steve pulls away a little. Just enough to look down at you in concern. “You’re really scared, huh?”

You can only nod. You’re still dazed by the way it felt to have soft muscle pressed against you, strong arms wrapped around your waist. You’re even pouting a little because damn it, you want him close again.

“It’s not funny.” you’re pouting a little as he chuckles quietly. He shakes his head. “It isn’t. I know.” he mutters, eyes glued to your lips, biting back a growl as your tongue drags their plump outline. “I’m sorry, I really am, it’s just..” he takes a deep breath. Steps into you all over again. Your back meets the edge of the counter and his hands rest on either side of you, you’re completely caged in by his body. “You’re so fucking cute right now.”

You lock eyes with him and a shiver passes through you as soon as you see the way honey almost glows like the last embers of a dying fire.

He’s looking at you but it’s like he’s only just seeing you. “Steve?” you question, cocking your head to one side as you stare up at him.

“You’re gonna have t’--” he’s starting to lean down while also picking you up off your feet a little, letting your body settle on his thick thigh as he raises it, slips it between your legs. His hands skim up and down your sides and they keep stopping at the bottom hem of his sweater, the one you stole to wear around whenever you know he’s not home and he won’t be for hours.

“So that’s where it went.” he stares down. Your entire body heats up as his eyes drag over you slow before finally meeting your own gaze. “St–” you were just about to say his name but his mouth presses against your mouth. It’s lazy and clumsy, his tongue dragging over your lips. Teeth grazing against your bottom lip as your mouth falls open willingly. You raise your arms, wrapping them around his neck. Your fingers tug at the damp hair plastered to the base of his neck.

He bites back a growl. You’re playing with his hair, melting into him more and more each second and it’s got him hard. Hot and bothered. He can’t stop now if he wanted to. But he manages to pull himself together just enough to stop.

“Can I…” he mumbles, swallowing hard.. “It’s okay I kissed y’.. Right?”

You nod, swallowing hard. Pouting a little as your censor self-destructs. “Why’d you stop?”

That last thin thread of restraint inside him shatters and he’s pulling you up his body, sitting you on the counter. He pushes your legs apart and steps between them. Your arms wrap around his neck all over again and your legs end up tangled around his waist as he pulls you forward closer to him.

The storm -and everything else around you both, is fading, falling away. Dissolving into nothing.

There’s just the two of you. Mouths attacking each other hungrily. Your hand raises, dragging through his hair. His hand slips up your thigh, resting for a few seconds as his fingers drag lazily against your soft skin before slipping beneath the bottom of that yellow sweater.

Your back arches, his hand creeps up higher. The kiss deepens. You’re so dizzy from it at this point that you’re clinging to him, fisting at the front of the polo shirt he’s wearing.

There’s nothing keeping the two of you apart and yet… Everything is.

Your hand drops, lingering at the waistband of his Calvins. He bites back another growl. His hand creeps higher beneath the sweater, a finger catching in the thin bikini strap of your favorite red panties.

He rests his forehead against yours as the kiss breaks and you both make one last attempt to pull yourselves together, fully aware that in just a breath, lines will be crossed.

His heart feels like it’ll beat right out of his goddamn chest at any second. Your heart is too, he can feel the way they’ve almost synced up perfect. He stares down at you, taking ragged breaths.

“I need you.” it’s breathed out against your lips as Steve’s hands start to wander all over again and he ruts himself into you all over again, needy whine shattering the silence between you both as soon as you feel him hard and throbbing through scratchy denim. “C’mon, please.” he begs, burying his face in your chest, “I promise I’ll make y’ forget the storm.”

“Please.” you choke out the word, your head falling back as he ruts himself into you all over again and you can feel the ache between your thighs getting so much worse. You’re soaked and you know he has to feel the way your thighs are slick enough now to slip off each other.

He scoops you off the counter, carrying you down the hall. Your back meets his closed bedroom door with a soft thud as he fumbles with the knob and swears when he can’t just get the damn door open without breaking the kiss. The door flies open as he kicks at it on the bottom and he steps into his bedroom, your back meets his soft mattress and he’s parting your legs, caging you in with his body.

Your hands tug at the bottom of his shirt, freeing it from his jeans and he raises up, tugging off the shirt, letting it settle on the edge of his nightstand.

The sweater is worked up over your body and as the chilly air meets your warm skin, goosebumps rise to the surface. Steve dips his head, dancing his mouth over your skin. Dragging his tongue over the strip of skin just above the band of your panties. You shiver and whine, rocking yourself up into him and his hands grip and squeeze at your body.

“Steve, c’mon.” you whine out, back arching away from the bed. It sends you up into him and he groans quietly. “Wanna..” he pants as his tongue drags down your racing pulse, “Wanna take my time with you.”

“Now.” you beg, dragging your nails up and down his bare back. He shivers, barely stopping a deep growl. The sweater is in his way now, this is the driving force to him pushing it up, pulling it away from your body. It settles on the floor of his bedroom and as soon as he sees you bare from the waist up, he’s hungry.

Desperate.

His cock is aching. Pushed tight against the front of jeans even more.

“Fuck.” he steps back into you and you’re pushed flat against the bed all over again. Thick digits catch in the thin string holding your panties together at the side and they’re torn free, tossed out over his shoulder. You manage to get your hand down, you’re fumbling with the button of his jeans but he pushes your hand down, pinning both of them below one of his over your head.

His mouth attacks your skin. Biting, nipping, sucking. Latching on anywhere he thinks he can leave a tangible mark behind.. Because nothing is going to make him hotter than to look at you after it’s over and see all the little bites and bruises.. The handprint shaped places on your body where he had to squeeze just a little harder to keep control of himself.

He can’t wait to see it.

“Not fair.” you whine out, nipping at his neck the first time. He whines, your tongue dances over hot skin. “What’s not fair, huh?” he questions, pausing to look down at you.

“You’re wearing too much.”

He pretends to mull it over. But you’re giving him big begging eyes and he just melts. He’ll do anything to please you.

Anything.

He untangles himself from you, pulling away so he can take off his jeans. You raise up to your knees, melting into him with your arms around his neck. You’re the one attacking him with kisses and nips, a few bites against his neck. As he tries to pull his jeans down, your hand catches in the waistband of his boxers and you’re tugging. Whining.

When you whimper as your hand circles his thick cock, he barely bites back a groan. He can’t get you on your back fast enough, your hands pinned down all over again just so he keeps control of the situation. You’re pouting up at him but as he kisses his way down your abdomen and his tongue drags a circle around your navel while he’s staring up at you, he relents. “One hand.. You’re gonna want t’ pull my hair, princess.. Hard.”

Gone is the awkwardness. Gone is the boy who doesn’t dare get his hopes up.. King Steve is back in all his glory.

He finally has a reason to feel confident.. Sure about something. Hearing you beg for him, the way you whimper his name as you try to get so close to him he’d almost swear you wanna climb inside him.. This has to be real. This time has to be different.

He’s determined. One way or another, he’s going to keep you all to himself.

You swallow hard, back arching up as his teeth latch onto delicate skin just above where you’re trying to push his mouth. Your legs have fallen open, his fingers drag over your dripping cunt and you shiver, moaning his name. The sound of it as it echoes off his bedroom walls is only more incentive to keep him going. To make you do it again. And again.

“Does this feel good, baby?” he stops mid lick to stare up, watch you start to unravel. His fingers are moving slower too, pumping in and out and you let out a frustrated whine. “Y-yes.” you whine out. “More.”

He chuckles, a kiss lands against your hot skin. “More, huh?” he asks, voice muffled by the skin his mouth is buried in. “Will you let me taste you, baby? Please?” he begs, thrusting himself against his mattress because he’s dying to bury himself inside you but he’s determined to get you off with his fingers and his tongue first.

“Yes, ugh,God yes.” you whine out as his tongue joins the two fingers splitting you apart all over again. Your hand is buried in his hair, pulling at it just like he asked. The more you pull his hair, the deeper he buries his tongue inside you. You’re arching your hips up at his fingers and tongue, aching for even the smallest amount of friction he’ll allow. But he’s doing his best to keep you pinned in, his free hand squeezing your hip so hard that you know you’re going to come out of this with handprints.

“Good girl. C’mon.” he coaxes, just as he feels your entire body going tense beneath him, “Let go,baby. Be a good girl and let go.”

You don’t have to be told a third time, your orgasm ripping through you, leaving you a shivering mess as you arch against his mouth and his tongue and fingers fuck you straight through it. He’s rutting himself against the mattress even more now, the bed shaking slightly.

He pulls himself up your body, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth as he stares down at the way you’re trapped beneath him. He’s careful when he settles himself against you, tip of his thick cock teasing at entry. You whine, dragging your nails down his back as your arms wrap around his neck and your legs circle his waist.

As his cock sinks in just a little deeper, you tense up. It’s thick. So thick that at first, it feels like you’re being split in two. He goes still, peppering hot little pecks against your skin and your lips. “You okay?”

“Just need..” you whine out, “It’s so big.” you bite your lip. “I’m okay, promise.” you try to rock yourself into him but he slips a hand down, bringing your hips to a complete standstill. “Aht. Aht. Let me take care of you, princess.”

“Steve.” you whine. The urgency in your tone has him smiling down at you, his heart swells. You look so dazed, glassy-eyed, staring up at him like you’re absolutely smitten. Like you love him more than anybody else.

It’s because you do and it’s the first time in Steve Harrington’s entire life that he’s actually been looked at that way. He’s blown away, completely blindsided.

,, she’s mine now. No matter what I have t’ do.. I’ll do anything.” he thinks, burying himself just a little deeper inside you. “Y’ feel soooo good. That’s it, princess.. I know you can take it. Good girl.” he’s touching you all over, kissing every piece of skin he can get his mouth on as he stares down at you, totally blown away at what’s happening between you.

The storm that had been forgotten creeps back into your awareness with a loud crash, a branch hitting the window as the wind picks up and howls outside. You tense all over and Steve grips your chin, making you look at him. “Hey.” he coaxes. “I’m right here. Focus on me, ‘kay?”

You nod. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.” he promises, burying himself inside you completely. Going still so you can cling to him and kiss him while you adjust to his thick cock.

You’re starting to rock your hips against him clumsily and he brushes some hair out of your eyes as he stares down at you, eyes full of hunger.

Love.

You melt into him, let him take over. Nails dragging up and down his back as he starts to fuck into you a little faster. Slowing down just as he can feel himself get closer and feel you go tense beneath him.

“Steve.” you whine out, frustrated. “Wanna..” you gasp as he starts to pick up the pace again, headboard beating against the bedroom wall. “Yeah, princess?” he questions, his mouth latching onto your neck.

“Wanna feel you.”

“Fuck.” he mumbles. “Where, princess?” he asks a few seconds later when he just can’t hold back. “Where do you want me, hm? Use your words.”

“Inside.” you gasp out, heavy lidded eyes fluttering open and closed as your orgasm shatters you and you have trouble keeping up with the pace, “Want you inside me.”

“Fuck. Oh fuck.” Steve groans out, his grip on your body tightening as he slams into you. As his hot seed coats your insides, he slows down, hips barely thrusting as he peppers soft kisses against your skin and tries to come down from the high.

“Wanna sleep in here tonight, baby?” he asks as he falls to the bed, pulling you on top of him. He wraps his arms around you to hold you against him in the darkness and you nod, yawning.

“Yeah.. You feel safe.” you admit quietly, drawing a dopey grin out of him as the words leave your mouth.

#mdni #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x female!roommate reader #steve harrington x female!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. as written by jinxy #.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. minors. don't you freaking dare.

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bunny-jpeg · 9 months ago

Text

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ smokin' - toto w. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

toto knew he should quit. he had seen enough of the pamphlets in doctor's offices and read enough to know, smoking kills. and at his age, he needed to be bit healthier. he worked out, and ate well, but sometimes, after a hard race, there was nothing like a pack of cigarettes in his hand and somewhere to sit down. let the nicotine flood his rattled senses and having a nice relaxing evening. it was almost nostalgic, he remembered when the red of marlboro's logo was all over the jackets and cars of formula one. now replaced with sports drinks. while he wasn't smoking a pack of day to lazily have one or two felt nice, letting the smoke fill his lungs even if it occasionally made him cough. he felt like he was trying too hard if he tried vaping to get the same fix. like a desperate attempt to be 'young', so he stuck to the cancer sticks. plus if he quit smoking, then he'd have to stop participating in his favourite punishment. keeping an ash tray balanced on your back.

you had been a bad girl. you knew it. it was a 'crime' that you knew would be found out. someone stole their daddy's credit card and racked up a healthy charge all in one day. toto knew he promised you the world, but, you can't take what isn't yours. toto liked rules, he liked to make sure that you were following them. he couldn't have you on bad behavior, it would look poorly on him. that he couldn't keep his alarmingly younger girlfriend in line, that wasn't the association that someone like toto wanted. so while he didn't return the items you bought, you'd have to pay him back somehow. which meant enduring a punishment. which meant him seated on the couch, lounging with a cigarette in his hand, getting his fix after a particularly rough weekend. and you, naked, save for the necklace with his name on it around your throat. the name torger almost dangled in the low light of the living room. the smell of cigarette smoke filled the air. right now you were nothing more than a piece of furniture made to hold his expensive ashtray. "don't drop it, schatzi." toto's voice was low, "worth quite a bit. probably more than that little house you grew up in." he exhaled smoke, "look at me." you looked over to him, being on your hands and knees for so long made you a little shaky. your arms felt like jelly and you knew your knees were rubbed raw. toto smiled a little, the kind of dangerous smile that made something run through you. it excited you and made you hot. you said, "please, daddy." and toto shook his head, "the punishment was until i finished this. the worse behaved you are, the longer this will take." you swallowed and kept your gaze on him, there was something some domineering about him. it was almost scary. he was the big man in charge, the team principal. and while he made all the decisions, you just had to be by his side and behave. but, you couldn't even do that. you watched him took another drag of his smoke and you rubbed your thighs together, everything burned from the position you were in. toto spoke once more, "i give you the world and you still want more. you should be know better by now, meine prinzessin." he leaned forward a little bit and got some of the ash off of his smoke into the ashtray, "you're a smart girl, no? if you're not smart, you are at least well behaved. but even now i am questioning that." you shook your head and looked down at the hardwood floor, "no daddy, i'm good. i promise." you bit the inside of your cheek, "please." toto sighed and exhaled smoke, "schatzi. i am trying to believe you, but it's hard."

the money was nothing, honestly he found it amusing. it was barely anything in the grand scheme of things, under four hundred dollars. barely a scratch in toto's finances. but to watch you whimper and whine, well, that was worth more than anything. but, toto had rules. he was the head of the relationship, the one who took care of you, and while it wasn't cheap, he expected for things to be followed. another drag and he eyed your quivering form. he knew you liked this, if he moved a little he could see your soaked pussy. you got off to being toto's little toy, used for his pleasure. it made him thankful tha the found you before someone with worst intentions got their claws into you first. you were too sweet at times, it all mixed in perfectly with your brattiness. "i'm starting to think you like this. you like getting into trouble. did someone not have rules when they were young? didn't get the attention from your real daddy." his tone was harsh. he saw you quiver a little more, he must've struck a nerve, "poor little princess didn't get the love she wanted, how sad. i bet daddy was too busy with everyone else and left no time for you." he knew your history inside and out, he even met your father. he knew that any psychologist would have a field day if they took one look at you and him. a younger girl who wanted an older man to take care of her. and an older man with a thirst for younger women who didn't like being asked difficult questions.

"but don't worry, schatzi. that's why i'm here. to make it all better."

when he was finished with the cigarette, toto purposefully missed the ash tray and put it out on the small of your back. you whimpered and bucked your hips, toto was quick enough to grab the glass ashtray before you made more of a mess. "schatzi." he said, "you need to be careful." and he saw the burn on your back. it made a deep part of him very excited at the sight of you. maybe next time your skin should be his ash tray, litter would unblemished skin with the burns of cigarettes. "please daddy." you gasped, you ended up with your cheek against the floor. unable to hold much longer, and now with the burn on your back. it all flooded your head. toto put the ash tray on the coffee table and said, "if you want to finish yourself off, princess. you better do it yourself. you've become lazy because i do everything for you. if you want to feel better, you have to do it yourself. you're a big girl." he watched you swallow before you put your hand between your thighs and rubbed your achy clit. your cheek still against the floor with your hips raised, your back as sloped as you pleasured yourself.

"please, daddy." you whined as you pleasured yourself. the smell of smoke filled your brain and while it made you scrunch your nose at the heavy scent. you continued to make yourself feel good. you panted heavily like a dog as you rubbed your clit against the side of your hand. your other hand was on the floor. you tensed up, your hand covered in your wetness as you whined and whimpered. toto was hard in his slacks, but he was a man of control. unlike you. you were whiny and loud, your pants heavy while your squirmed against your own touch. while toto would've been happy to seat you on his cock. maybe even have another cigarette while he used your pretty breasts as an ashtray, you needed to learn your lesson. so either you got yourself off, or you'd be left sexually frustrated. he said to you, his voice a rumble that made a shiver run through you, "spoiled little girl. you had me convinced, now you've become spoiled. but." he shifted in his spot on the couch. leaned for a little bit to get a better view of your body, "i am more than happy to train you all over again. it's almost the summer break, which means, it will just be you and i. i wonder how many marks i can leave on you. go to the dutch grand prix with my marks on you inside and out. might turn a few heads." his words made pleasure flood your core, "maybe a collar. even a leash so i could tie you somewhere and no have you get lost." he sighed, "you always wander off. he watched you pleasure yourself and the sight was erotic. it wasn't long before your moans were tight and your body was tense like a bow. you looked beautiful, blissed out beside toto not even fucking you. with a few more drags of your hand across your clit, you came and then you ended up fully flat on the floor. your brain felt elsewhere and your body felt the weight of an orgasm across your achy joints. your tongue was even stuck out a little as you tried to center your thoughts once more.

toto chuckled lightly before he got up off the couch and went to you. you got a view of the bulge in his slacks before his face, you tried to get yourself up to undo his belt. but instead he grabbed you by the hair. he looked at you as he said, "i don't fuck on the floor like an animal. your punishment isn't over, but you should be lucky i'll even fuck you on a bed." and you, the good girl you were, nodded to your daddy. you words were simple as you got up, "yes daddy." <3

a/n: i lost control of the keyboard

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lurkingshan · 2 years ago

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Japanese BL Starter Pack

It’s been awhile since I dropped a rec list, so I am here today to share one that is very near and dear to my heart—a Japanese bl primer for those who are new to the jbl game. I created this for @neuroticbookworm to help her on her journey when she decided she wanted to start getting into Japanese works. The fandom (on Tumblr and generally) tends to focus primarily on Thai shows because they are the easiest to access for international fans, since Thailand is working its way toward world domination via ql media and wants us all to be able to watch. But there is a lot of great stuff to watch beyond the easy access Thai channels, and Japan is the country where this genre originated, so its shows are important for anyone who considers themselves a bl fan. Japan doesn’t cater nearly as much to the international audience so tracking down the shows sometimes takes some ingenuity and can-do spirit, but that’s part of the fun!

And so, the list! Bookworm is about halfway through it and having a ball, so I figured it was time to stop hoarding it and share it with anyone else who would like to dip their toes into jbl and isn’t quite sure where to start. A few notes:

I am not here to teach you about the deep roots of the jbl genre or give you a primer on yaoi manga. I am by no means an expert and there are other places to find that information. Start here with this great post by @nieves-de-sugui and then maybe wander over to @absolutebl to read up more on the evolution of the genre.

This list is by no means an exhaustive accounting of every important Japanese bl ever made; it is simply a nice sampler platter of the cream of the crop among various styles you will find in jbl. Watching through this whole list will not only expose you to some fantastic shows, but also give you a sense of what makes jbl unique and how the country’s style differs from others, and point you toward the types of jbl you’ll like most (they tend to put shows in pretty specific style and tone lanes and once you find the ones you like there are lots more where that came from).

If you’re coming to this post as a jbl lover and you don’t see your favorite here, I promise it’s not because I don’t love it very much; I simply had to make some choices to get this down to a reasonable shortlist. Feel free to leave extra recs for others to find!

I’m putting these in a loose suggested watch order that will take you through the various jbl lanes in a kind of popcorn style, because I always think it’s good to change it up so you don’t get too stuck in one mode, and it works its way up to most of the extremely Japanese stuff (you will know what that means by the time you finish). But do what’s in your heart and change up the order if you want, friends, I am not the boss of you!

Cherry Magic (Crunchyroll or grey)

gif by @liyazaki

I believe everyone on Tumblr is pretty familiar with this one, which is not a coincidence—this is one of the most accessible jbls. Not in terms of actual access to watch it, mind you (we’ve all jumped through shady internet hoops to watch it) but in terms of its content and style. Cherry Magic is a classic workplace romcom with a magical twist, and it is charming af. It’s a great exemplar of Japan’s light and zippy comedy lane for bl—a lane in which, importantly, the romances stay chaste even when the actual plot is about sex, or lack thereof. My friend @waitmyturtles would kill me if I didn’t make sure you know that Cherry Magic also has a lovely follow up film. And bonus: there is now a Thai remake airing so if you watch the original you can get in on the discussion about the different adaptations between countries. This is pretty easy to find these days in all the usual places, but I strongly recommend watching it here.

Old Fashion Cupcake (Viki)

gif by @liyazaki

Moving on to a slightly more mature workplace romcom. Old Fashion Cupcake, another Tumblr favorite, is an age gap boss-subordinate romance, and it’s both very adult and somehow wholesome af at the same time. Sure, there is a lot of carnal desire going on here, but there is also a lot of wooing via fluffy pancakes. It’s a tight five episodes and a fantastic example of what Japan, with its extreme technical precision in writing, directing, editing, pacing, and acting firing on all cylinders, can do in two hours. There’s not an ounce of flab on this thing and you’ll want to watch it over and over again.

Utsukushii Kare (Viki)

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

Time to get a little weird! Weird is a key feature of Japanese media, and lots of jbls explore unusual relationship dynamics rooted in complex psychology. This is the first show on the list that will likely feel very Japanese if you’re new around here—my advice is to lean into it and finish the show, even if you get uncomfortable along the way. In Japanese media, discomfort always serves a purpose. This is a high school story with a twisted relationship at its center, and I’m not saying any more than that. Don’t spoil yourself and go watch it! This one also comes with two sequels—one short second season and one movie—that continue from the original story. They are less essential but still excellent.

I Cannot Reach You (Netflix)

gif by @my-rose-tinted-glasses

Next up, another high school tale, but with a totally different vibe. This show is kind of a revelation in its willingness to tell a story about overwhelming desire—including sexual desire—with young protagonists. It’s rooted in a classic but often misunderstood trope, friends to lovers, and takes the angst of it seriously, giving us a low stakes story that feels extremely high stakes to our leads. It’s also gorgeous and uses a classic Japanese visual style (bokeh) that you’ll be dying to learn more about.

His (Viki)

gif by @gabrielokun

Time for a break from high school, and we’ll sprinkle in a movie for some added flavor. His is a jbl film featuring a second chance romance between a stoic, introverted man who moves to a remote town to start over, and his ex-boyfriend who follows him there unexpectedly, adorable child in tow. Importantly, this movie does not take place in what we often refer to as the “bl bubble” where homophobia doesn’t exist; the leads’ experiences of being gay men in a homophobic society are hugely important to the plot and themes of the story. It’s a beautiful film and I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve watched it. @bengiyo would surely also like me to tell you that this film follows a brief prequel show called His: I Didn’t Mean to Fall in Love about the characters originally meeting in high school; I do not think it’s really necessary to watch it but completists can start there.

The Pornographer series (Gaga)

By now you should be ready to get into some classic Japanese fucked up psychosexual material, right? Right! The Pornographer series is told in five installments in this order:

The Novelist, a six episode miniseries

Mood Indigo, a six episode prequel series

Spring Life, a 15 minute short

Pornographer: Playback, a two hour film

Spring Life Continued, a 15 minute short

Confused by that distribution model? So say we all; sometimes Japan likes to make us work for it to make sure we really appreciate its many gifts to us. The story across these installments is about a very difficult to love protagonist, what makes him the way he is, and the also-unhinged-but-in-a-different-way man who finally gets through to him. It’s an extremely satisfying love story and one of the best character arcs I have ever seen, full stop. For this one, you’ll want to just pull the word problematic out of your pocket and store it in a drawer; nearly everything that happens in this story is problematic and that’s the point. Lean in! All of these installments except for the film are on Gaga, if you get that far hmu and I will supply you with the final puzzle piece.

Our Dining Table (Gaga)

You could probably use a break after those last two, so it’s time to shift over to a heart-tugging twofer: family trauma mixed with the cutest shit you’ve ever seen. ODT is an example of another classic type of Japanese show: the food drama (you will see the GOAT in this category at the end of this list). In Japanese culture, food is love, and the act of preparing food for your loved ones is a common path to romance. You’ll love this story about an isolated office worker who meets a pair of brothers, learns to cook as a way of connecting with them, and begins to heal from his own trauma as a result. The image above is a scan from the manga, which @troubled-mind curates to make extremely cool comparison sets like this one. Many jbls are faithful adaptations of yaoi manga source material, so it’s good to have a bit of familiarity with them.

Minato’s Laundromat (Gaga)

gif by @liyazaki

Japanese media loves to explore taboo, and often manages to do it in a way that is surprisingly light and chaste. This is an age gap romance between a teenager and his adult neighbor that explores internalized homophobia, emotional repression, and falling in love across seemingly impossible social chasms. It’s also a great example of old school yaoi seme-uke dynamics that still show up across the bl genre. Also, take my advice: end your journey with this one with the first season and just pretend season 2 doesn’t exist.

Eternal Yesterday (Viki)

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

Remember what I said about weird? Time to do that again, but with a heaping dose of grief and pain on top. It’s not a spoiler to tell you this show involves a major character death; a major character death is, in fact, the root of the entire story. This is a magic realist tale of first love turned tragic, and it will hurt and heal you. It is one of my favorite dramas of all time.

Restart After Come Back Home (Gaga)

And now for a break for your poor exhausted brain. This film is basically the jbl version of a Hallmark original movie, about a city boy who goes back home to the country and falls in love with a total sweetheart while working together on a farm. Enjoy it, bestie, you’ve earned it!

Tokyo in April Is… (Gaga)

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

You’ve probably noticed by now that emotional repression and failed communication are big themes in Japanese works. This second chance romance has plenty of both, and it’s a great example of a kind of muted emotional style that Japan does so well, where the surface of the story seems almost placid and calm even as deep emotion roils underneath. This one (and Eternal Yesterday above) are part of a special line up of jbls on Japanese channel MBS called Tonku (Drama) Shower. The shows air one after another in the same time slot on Fridays (in Japan, perhaps Thursdays for you depending on where you live) and you truly never know what you’re gonna get, but they’re all interesting. Warnings on this one for sexual assault and trauma.

The End of the World With You (Viki)

Time for sexy and weird again, but even more so! This has to be one of the most unique bls ever made; it goes to some truly divine and strange places, and it feels incredibly queer while doing it. Made by the same screenwriter/director of the Pornographer series with a lot of the same sensibilities, but in a more heightened apocalyptic setting. This one has existential angst, a road trip, a redemption tale, and a variety of interesting side characters in the mix.

What Did You Eat Yesterday? (Gaga)

gif by @my-rose-tinted-glasses

Congratulations, you’ve reached the end of the list and your reward is watching one of the best bls of all time, and a perfect slice of life food drama to boot. WDYEY now has two seasons (along with a couple specials and a movie that fall in between) because the universe clearly loves us. You can now get it on Gaga for easy access but I’m partial to the versions over at @kinounaniresource for better subs. Wherever you watch, settle in to get cozy with Shiro and Kenji and make sure to always eat before you hit play.

#shan recommends #cherry magic #old fashion cupcake #utsukushii kare #eternal yesterday #our dining table #minato’s laundromat #what did you eat yesterday?#tokyo in april is...#his the movie #the pornographer #japanese bl #jbl starter pack

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honeydippedfiction · 20 days ago

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Say Please {JB9}

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Synopsis: Angel senses the weight Joe’s been carrying from Trey’s contract situation and the growing tension in the locker room, so she takes full control for the night—giving him a safe place to unravel, surrender, and breathe. Through gentle dominance, deep intimacy, and soft aftercare, she reminds him that he doesn’t have to carry the world alone.

Warnings: Suggestive/Spicy Scenes, Consensual BDSM/kink themes (light dominance/submission), Sexual content and explicit scenes, Power exchange dynamics (consensual), Teasing and edging, Sensory play (touch, temperature, etc.), Emotional vulnerability, Intimate partner dynamics with care and trust, Some language (mild profanity), Possible depiction of aftercare or emotional processing. MDNI🔞

WC: 4.6k

A/N: am I slowly loving more subby!Joe??

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• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

Joe had been carrying it all week—the weight of headlines, locker room whispers, and the growing frustration of watching one of his best defenders left dangling in uncertainty. The Trey Hendrickson situation wasn’t just some back-office contract shuffle to him. It was personal. The Bengals front office was dragging their feet, slow-walking a player who’d bled for this team, who’d delivered again and again without question. Joe wasn’t a general manager. He didn’t sign checks. But he understood loyalty. He understood leadership. And he knew, without a doubt, what that kind of limbo could do to a man—to a locker room built on trust.

So yeah, he was feeling it.

Every unanswered text. Every vague “we’ll see” from upstairs. Every second Trey had to walk into practice and pretend he didn’t see the writing on the wall. Joe felt all of it.

Because Joe Burrow didn’t just play quarterback—he carried his team. He fought for his guys. Always.

But lately… even he was starting to come apart at the seams.

Angel had noticed the shift before he’d said a single word. She saw it in the way he stared at his phone too long after practice, thumbing through articles and updates that only seemed to drain him more. In the way his jaw flexed when he thought no one was watching. In the silence that followed him home—heavy, brittle, and thick enough to stretch between them like glass. He wasn’t angry. Not exactly. But something inside him was knotted tight, and it was pulling at everything else.

One evening, after another long day and an even longer meeting, Joe finally let it out.

“Angel,” he said, dropping his phone onto the kitchen counter with a sharp clatter. “I swear, it’s like they’re just dragging their feet on purpose. Trey’s been patient, the guy’s been patient, and it’s just—nothing. No progress. No answers. Just… waiting. And it’s tearing the locker room apart.”

Angel watched him carefully as he paced, hands running through his hair. “I get it,” she said softly. “It’s frustrating as hell. But you’re not the one making those calls. You’re not the one signing the checks.”

Joe shook his head, exhaustion clear in his voice. “I know that. But it feels like I’m stuck in the middle, you know? Like I’m supposed to keep everyone calm and focused when I’m losing my own patience. It’s like watching your family get burned and not being able to put the fire out.”

Angel stepped closer, reaching out to grab his hand, grounding him. “You’re not alone in this. You never have to be. You’re their leader, yes, but you’ve got us—me—right here. And I think maybe it’s okay to let yourself lean on that sometimes.”

He looked at her then, the usual sharp intensity softened by weariness. “I don’t want to be the guy who cracks. Who lets the pressure break him.”

“And you won’t be,” Angel said with quiet certainty. “But sometimes strength is knowing when to step back. When to take a breath. When to let someone else take care of you for a little while.”

Joe exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing just enough for a small, tired smile. “I’m lucky to have you.”

Angel smiled back, brushing a hand over his cheek. “And I’m not going anywhere. But tonight? Tonight, you’re giving me your whole attention. No contracts. No meetings. Just us.”

Joe nodded, a flicker of relief passing through his eyes. “Okay. I’m ready to forget all that for a while.”

Because Angel had seen firsthand what the world demanded from him. She knew how the pressure sank into his bones, how often he carried it in silence, how rarely he let himself fall apart. But not tonight. Tonight, she wasn’t asking. She was stepping in.

He didn’t need more words. He needed touch. Tenderness. Control handed over, if only for a little while.

She wasn’t just going to soothe the tension from his body.

She was going to quiet the storm in his mind.

Make him forget—just for tonight—that the weight of everyone else’s future sat on his shoulders.

And remind him, with every kiss, every breath, every inch of her presence, that he didn’t have to bear it all alone.

Σ>―🖤→

It started slow.

The soft click of their bedroom door echoed in the quiet, like the first drop of rain before a storm. Angel leaned against it for just a second, watching him. The golden glow of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across Joe’s bare chest as he sat reclined against the headboard, scrolling absently through his phone, completely unaware of the shift that was coming.

She moved like silk. Silent, purposeful. Each step forward was slow and deliberate, her hips swaying with the easy confidence of someone who knew exactly the effect she had on him. The only thing she wore was one of his white button-down shirts—unbuttoned, open, loose around her frame and a black cotton thong. It fluttered slightly with her movement, barely concealing the curve of her breasts and the long, smooth lines of her thighs.

Joe didn’t notice her at first. But the second he glanced up, the second their eyes met—he froze mid-scroll, breath catching like he’d forgotten how to exhale.

“Put that down,” Angel said, voice velvet-soft but laced with command.

His fingers twitched. Then, without hesitation, he set the phone face-down on the nightstand. His head tilted, curiosity blooming behind his eyes—but he didn’t speak. Not yet.

“Something on your mind?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light, but the rasp in his voice betrayed him.

Angel didn’t answer.

Instead, she climbed onto the bed, slow and steady—knee by knee—until she straddled his lap. She didn’t sit, didn’t touch him, just hovered above him, her presence a magnetic force he couldn’t tear his eyes from. Her scent curled around him, something warm and floral, and it nearly made him dizzy.

She reached out and traced his jawline with her fingertips, letting her nails drag lightly along the edge of his beard. The touch was electric, delicate, and just enough to make his skin prickle.

“You always take care of me,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

Joe’s eyes flickered, and for a moment, something tender and surprised crossed his face. “Angel…”

“Shh.” She pressed one finger to his lips, soft but firm. “No talking. Not unless I say so.”

There was a beat of silence. Then Joe exhaled, his shoulders slumping in surrender. She felt the shift in him—that quiet, willing submission that only she could pull from him. His arms rested at his sides, hands flexing like he didn’t quite know what to do with them.

Angel leaned in and kissed him—slow, deep, coaxing. Not rushed. Not needy. Just firm and full of intent. Her tongue swept past his lips with aching control, mapping him like he was hers to consume. Joe groaned low in his throat, hands twitching, aching to grab her—but he didn’t. He held back.

When she finally pulled away, his lips chased hers, desperate.

“Hands behind your head,” she said.

He froze. Just for a second.

Not in reluctance—just in awe.

“You trust me, don’t you?” she asked, watching him closely.

Joe nodded once, the movement slow and reverent. “Always.”

“Then let go.”

He obeyed.

Arms lifted, elbows wide, fingers laced behind his head. The position made his chest stretch, muscles tense. He looked at her like she held the whole world between her hands—and right now, she did.

Angel shifted her weight forward, settling just barely into his lap, brushing against the hard length of him with nothing but the warm press of her skin and the ghost of her shirt between them. But still—no pressure, no release. Just friction. Just a whisper of touch.

Joe let out a strangled sound, eyes fluttering shut. “Baby—”

“I said,” she whispered, dragging her mouth along the edge of his jaw, “no talking.”

Her teeth grazed his neck, then soothed the sting with her tongue. The dual sensation made his hips jerk involuntarily, but he quickly stilled again, muscles trembling with restraint.

“Be good for me,” she murmured.

His jaw clenched. She could see how hard he was working to obey her. How every instinct in him wanted to take control—wanted to flip her under him and claim her. But he didn’t. Not even when she rocked forward just enough to make them both feel the sharp edge of tension that crackled in the space between breath and contact.

“You’re always in control,” she whispered against his skin. “But not tonight.”

Joe’s lips parted, but no words came out. Only a sharp inhale that shuddered through his chest.

“Look at you…” Her fingers traced down his chest, nails light and teasing, following the line between his abs. “So strong. So disciplined. But you’re mine right now. Just mine.”

“Angel,” he breathed, voice wrecked.

“Color?” she asked, pulling back to study him.

His eyes met hers—glassy, wild, completely gone. “Green. Fucking green.”

She smiled, soft and wicked all at once. “Good boy.”

And then she kissed her way down his body, slow and deliberate, leaving a trail of heat in her wake. She didn’t rush. She wasn’t here to rush. Every inch of him got the same reverent attention—his chest, his stomach, the sharp cut of his hips. Joe trembled beneath her, his knuckles white where his hands were still locked behind his head.

He was unraveling. Slowly. Beautifully.

And Angel had never loved him more than she did in that moment—strong, powerful Joe, offering up his whole self to her with nothing but trust and aching need.

This wasn’t just about control.

It was about care.

About showing him that surrender didn’t mean weakness. That being held could be just as powerful as holding on.

And she would make sure he felt every second of it.

Angel lingered at his waistline, her breath ghosting over his skin, waiting until she felt him twitch beneath her again—impossibly hard, aching, and completely still under her command. She looked up at him, slow and deliberate, and the sight of Joe—head tipped back, jaw clenched, eyes half-lidded with want—made her chest ache with something almost reverent.

She let her fingers dip under the waistband of his boxers, teasing, curling just beneath the elastic. But she didn’t pull them down. Not yet. Instead, she lowered her mouth and pressed a kiss just above the line, maddeningly slow. Her tongue dragged a single, deliberate circle beside the place he needed her most—never quite touching, just enough to make him suffer.

Then she finally gave him a taste of what he wanted.

She reached down, curling her fingers around him, her touch feather-light at first—just enough to make him moan under his breath.

“Angel…” His voice cracked around her name, heavy with desperation.

Her grip tightened slightly, thumb swiping over the head as she stroked him once, slow and firm. She watched his abs contract, the way his whole body arched toward her without even realizing it.

“Keep those hands where they are,” she warned, voice low, sultry.

“I’m trying,” he groaned, the strain thick in his voice.

“I know, baby,” she purred, leaning forward to kiss along his hip. “You’re doing so good for me.”

And he was. Joe was trembling—his thighs tense, breathing shallow, the effort of holding back visible in every flex of his muscles. But he hadn’t moved. Hadn’t reached for her. He gave her everything she asked, and then some.

Angel rewarded him.

Her mouth replaced her hand in one slow, smooth motion. She took her time, savoring him. Letting him feel every flick of her tongue, every drag of her lips. She moaned softly around him, not just to drive him crazy—but because she genuinely loved this. Loved the way he came undone for her. Loved that she had the power to strip him bare like this—his ego, his control, everything.

Joe gasped, his hips bucking once before he forced them still again. He was so close already, she could feel it.

“Angel—fuck, baby, I—” His voice was raw now, like it was being torn from the deepest part of him.

She pulled back just enough to speak, her lips brushing the tip of him.

“Not yet,” she whispered. “You don’t come until I say so.”

Joe whimpered.

That’s right—whimpered.

Angel smiled, proud and wicked, and kissed her way back up his body, unhurried, reverent. Her lips grazed the curve of his hipbone, then traveled upward along the lean stretch of his torso, warm breath skating across each inch she passed. She paused at the hollow just above his waistband, where his abs fluttered beneath her mouth, and dragged her teeth across his skin—not hard, but enough to make him twitch.

Her nails followed, raking lightly up his ribs, leaving behind faint pink trails. She traced the shape of him like he was something she was studying, memorizing—not the Joe the world knew, but her Joe. Her masterpiece. Her man undone.

She pressed her chest against his, the curve of her breasts brushing his bare skin as she slid her lips along his jawline.

“You’re mine tonight,” she whispered. “And I’m not done playing with you yet.”

He nodded helplessly, his fingers twitching behind his head like he was seconds away from losing it.

Joe’s body was already shaking. His chest heaved, muscles tight, veins standing out along his arms where his hands remained locked behind his head. His eyes—blown wide, glassy with heat—tracked her every move like he couldn’t decide whether to beg her or worship her.

“Angel,” he rasped, his voice cracking like it was scraped raw. “I’m gonna lose it.”

A slow smile curled across her lips. “Good.”

Joe’s hips jerked upward before he could stop himself, a soft, broken sound escaping his throat.

Angel pulled back, eyes sharp. “You move again, and I stop.”

The threat landed like a shot. He froze instantly, like someone hit pause on every nerve in his body. Still, trembling, straining.

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered, the words slipping out like instinct.

Angel’s breath hitched at the sound—God, that tone in his voice, that perfect blend of desperation and devotion. She kissed the center of his chest, where his heart pounded wild beneath her lips, and trailed her way back up until she straddled his hips again.

She was bare beneath the shirt now, the open front draping around them like a curtain—her skin flush against his, heat to heat, need to need.

Reaching up, she unhooked his arms from behind his head, gently guiding them down until his hands lay flat on either side of him.

“Keep them there,” she whispered.

Joe nodded once, lips parted, eyes never leaving hers.

Angel shifted forward, pressing the slick heat of her center against the solid length of him through the fabric. There was no friction, just presence—just the aching tease of what was about to come.

“Do you feel that?” she asked, her voice like velvet wrapping around him as she rolled her hips ever so slightly.

Joe’s eyes fluttered shut, jaw tightening as he groaned. “Fuck—Angel…”

“That’s what you do to me,” she murmured. “Just being in the room. Just breathing. You drive me insane. But tonight…”

She reached for his face, cradling his jaw between both hands, forcing his gaze back to hers. Her thumb swept across his bottom lip.

“Tonight, you’re mine.”

Joe looked like he was seconds away from breaking. From worshiping. From giving her anything she wanted.

“You don’t come until I say,” she said softly.

“I won’t,” he whispered hoarsely. “Baby, I’m not gonna last…”

“Yes, you will,” she said, voice low and sure, her lips brushing his. “Because I said so.”

Then she finally took him.

Slowly.

Exquisitely.

She sank down onto him inch by inch, making sure he felt every agonizing, perfect second of it. His head tipped back against the headboard with a strangled cry, fists clenching at his sides. She didn’t move yet—just let him sit inside her, deep and still, their bodies connected in the most intimate way possible.

“Jesus, Angel…”

She started to move—slow, rolling, deliberate. Her pace was maddening, just enough to push him closer and pull him back in the same breath. Her hands braced against his chest, nails raking lightly as she rocked her hips.

Joe’s eyes devoured her. The way her curls spilled over her shoulders. The soft part of her lips. The way her body moved like she was born for this—like she was made to ruin him.

“You’re doing so good for me,” she praised, dragging her hips deeper, slower. “So fucking good, baby.”

Angel kissed him again—deeper, needier this time. Her hips rolled against his, teasing him with the barest friction. She could feel the tension pulsing through his entire body, and still he didn’t touch her.

“Such a good boy,” she murmured against his lips. “Letting me take everything I want. Letting me have you.”

“Please…” Joe’s voice was broken now. Full of want, full of love. “Please, baby. Let me touch you. Let me feel you.”

Angel pulled back just far enough to look him in the eye.

Her voice was soft, her power absolute. “Only when I say.”

He nodded again, eyes glassy. “Yes. Yes, ma’am.”

That sent a bolt of heat straight through her.

She guided him down flat against the bed, straddling him again, this time fully settling onto him—his hard length pressed directly beneath her, separated by nothing but heat and tension and the slick proof of how much she needed this, too.

She braced her hands on his chest, rolling her hips in a slow, torturous rhythm.

Joe nearly sobbed.

“I’ve got you,” she whispered, leaning down to kiss the sweat from his brow. “Let go for me, baby. Let me do all the work.”

And she did.

She rode him slow, deliberately, with deep, aching control—pulling back every time he got close, drawing it out until his body was vibrating beneath her with restraint. Until he was whispering her name like a prayer, like a plea, like she was the only thing keeping him tethered to earth.

Joe was gasping now, chest slick with sweat, muscles locked tight beneath her. His fingers twitched against the sheets, fighting the urge to grab her. To flip her. To take over.

“Can I touch you?” he asked, broken. “Please, Angel—please.”

Angel leaned down, brushing her lips along the shell of his ear. “Say it again.”

“Please,” he whispered, and it wasn’t just lust. It was surrender.

She took his hands, guided them gently to her hips. “Now hold on.”

And she rode him harder.

Not fast. Not rough. Just deeper. Fiercer. Her rhythm picked up heat and purpose, her body moving like a storm building toward its peak. She stayed in control—always in control—but gave him just enough to keep him on the edge of falling apart.

Joe was losing it. His grip on her hips tightened, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts.

“Angel—fuck—I—I can’t—please—can I—?”

When she finally let him come, it was with her hands holding his face, her lips pressed to his temple, her voice murmuring soft praise between each kiss.

She cut him off with a kiss, deep and possessive. Her teeth grazed his bottom lip before she whispered against his mouth, “Now.”

Joe shattered.

He came hard, every inch of him trembling, crying out her name like it was the only word he knew. He clung to her, his arms pulling her down, burying his face against her neck as wave after wave rolled through him.

She held him through all of it, letting her own orgasm crash seconds after—her body locking, trembling against his, their breath becoming one as they unraveled together.

When it was over, they collapsed into a tangled heap of sweat, slick skin, and love. Angel laid against his chest, her cheek pressed to his heart, both of them still shaking, still catching their breath.

Joe’s voice broke the silence, husky and reverent. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Angel smiled sleepily, pressing a kiss to his damp collarbone. “But what a way to go.”

Σ>―🖤→

Joe was still trembling.

Even minutes after it was over—after the heat, the moans, the ache of her body around him and the way she drew him out like he was made only for her—his body hadn’t stopped shaking. His chest rose and fell in shallow bursts, breath still chasing itself like he’d run miles. His arms, once rigid with restraint, now hung loosely around her waist, fingertips brushing her back in barely-there twitches like he was still grounding himself.

Angel felt it. Every flutter. Every pulse. The slight quiver in his thighs as they rested tangled with hers. The heat still clinging to his skin. His heartbeat thudding against her cheek as she lay sprawled across his chest, her legs slotted around his, sweat drying between them like a second skin. He had given her everything—every last ounce of control—and now, she could feel how much it had drained him.

She leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss just above his heart. “Hey,” she murmured. “You okay?”

Joe nodded faintly, eyes still closed. “Yeah. Just…” He swallowed, trying to even out his breathing. “Still floating.”

A soft smile curved her lips. She kissed his jaw, then the corner of his mouth, then lower—his neck, his collarbone—each touch slower than the last, like she was tucking pieces of herself back into him. “You did so good for me,” she whispered, fingers stroking his ribs.

A low, blissed-out sound rumbled in his chest, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. His arms tightened around her just enough to let her know he was still here. Still trying to process what the hell she’d just done to him.

“That was…” He blinked, finally daring to open his eyes. They were hazy, dazed. Beautifully wrecked. “Fucking insane.”

Angel chuckled softly, nuzzling against his neck. “Too much?”

He shook his head immediately, eyes searching hers. “Not even close. Just…” He paused. “I don’t think I’ve ever let go like that before.”

Her heart tugged at the rawness in his voice. She brought her hand to his face, cupping his jaw as her thumb brushed through the damp curls at his temple. “That’s what I’m here for, baby,” she murmured. “You don’t always have to hold everything together.”

He leaned into her touch like it was the only thing anchoring him. His lashes fluttered shut, jaw relaxing beneath her palm.

Angel kissed his forehead, lingering there for a moment. “Come on,” she said gently. “Let me take care of you.”

He didn’t argue.

When she shifted off him, he groaned softly at the loss of her warmth but let her guide him up. His legs wobbled as his feet touched the floor, knees momentarily forgetting how to hold him. She caught him at the waist with a quiet laugh, steadying him before he could fall.

“Shit,” he muttered with a sheepish grin, his cheeks flushed pink. “You really wore me out.”

“That was the goal,” she said with a wink, pecking his lips. “And I think I nailed it.”

She led him to the bathroom slowly, her hand laced with his. The amber light clicked on with a soft hum, casting a golden glow over the tiled space. Joe sat on the edge of the tub, head tipped back against the cool tile as his chest rose and fell, slower now but still uneven. Angel turned on the faucet, her movements practiced, calm. She adjusted the temperature with care, testing the water with her hand, then reached for the small bottle of eucalyptus bath oil she kept tucked away. A few drops hit the surface, and within seconds, steam and scent filled the room—sharp, soothing, familiar.

She glanced over her shoulder and smiled when she saw him watching her, quiet and soft-eyed.

Angel padded back to him and knelt in front of him. “Arms up.”

He obeyed without a word, raising his arms so she could peel the damp T-shirt from his skin. Her hands were tender, reverent, not teasing anymore—this was no longer about seduction. It was about care. Devotion. She slid the shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor, then hooked her fingers in his waistband and tugged his boxers down, inch by inch, until he stepped out of them. She undressed herself next, slowly, eyes never leaving his.

Then she reached for his hand and helped him into the bath.

The moment Joe’s body sank into the hot water, he exhaled like it was the first real breath he’d taken in hours. His head fell back, lips parting on a groan as the heat enveloped him, loosening the tightness in his limbs.

Angel slid in behind him, her thighs cradling his hips as she pulled him gently against her chest. His head rested beneath her chin. She wrapped her arms around his torso and whispered into his ear, “I got you.”

And Joe—he melted.

His body softened completely, the tension finally bleeding out of him like steam rising from the water. He didn’t speak. Didn’t need to. He just let her hold him.

Angel reached for the washcloth and soaked it, wringing it out before bringing it to his chest. She moved slowly, deliberately, washing away the sweat and salt, the remnants of everything he’d given her. Her fingers traced the curve of his shoulders, the cut of his arms, the dip of his collarbone. She kissed his shoulder. Then the space behind his ear that always made him shiver.

That’s when he said it, voice barely more than a breath: “I don’t deserve you.”

Angel stilled. Her hand, mid-stroke, froze just above his heart.

“Don’t say that,” she said softly.

“But it’s true.” His voice cracked on the words. “You give and give and I—I just…”

“Joe.” Her arms slid tighter around him, anchoring him to her body. “You give too. You love me with everything you have. You always have. Even when it’s messy. Even when you’re tired.”

He turned slightly, enough to catch her eyes. “But I need you like this,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know how to be without you. Not anymore.”

Angel pressed her cheek to his damp skin, holding him like a promise. “You’ll never have to be.”

Silence settled over them again—thick but comforting. The only sound was the gentle lap of water and the whisper of their breath. She reached for the shampoo and lathered it gently into his curls, massaging his scalp in slow, circular motions. Joe sighed so deeply it shook them both. His shoulders dropped. His head tilted into her hands.

She washed him like a man who had nothing to prove. Like someone she was choosing again and again, even in his stillness. Especially in his stillness.

When they stepped out of the tub, skin flushed from heat, she wrapped him in a towel and dried him off tenderly, like he was fragile. Like he mattered. And he let her.

Back in bed, Joe curled into her like muscle memory. His head on her chest, her fingers laced with his. Angel ran her nails lightly over his scalp, the other hand drawing soft lines along his back.

“You’re safe,” she whispered into his hair. “Loved. Needed.”

Joe kissed her collarbone, lips barely moving. “You’re everything.”

She smiled, her arms circling him tighter.

Tonight, she had taken control—not just of his body, but of the quiet parts of him he rarely gave away. And now, as the storm settled and the world narrowed to the sound of his breathing and her heartbeat, she held him in the afterglow like he was precious.

Because he was.

This—this was love.

Not just the fire.

But the care after the flames.

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darlingsfandom · 6 months ago

Text

You’re not in charge honey …

Anon: Hi, can you write one for Robert Fischer where he is forced to marry y/n because of his father’s wish and his father always likes y/n because he thinks she is more capable than Robert. So Robert gets frustrated and take it out on y/n to let her know who’s in charge in bed lol. sorry if the plot is too long!

TW: cum eating, p in v, unprotected sex, breath play, degradation, swearing!

Not proofread !

You were smart, funny, kind and overall a good fit for Robert in his father’s eyes. In reality you would admit Robert is an attractive man but he was a spoiled brat underneath it all. When the two of your first met he was starstruck with you because he’d admit you’re an attractive piece of ass but as the two of you dated he found himself getting bored of you. You were a toy he outgrew but his father would not allow that.

“Excuse me? Did you just say I have to marry her?” Robert about choked on his wine as his father sat across the table from him. “It’s bad enough I have to live with her!” He rolled his eyes before setting his glass down.

“And here I am thinking you adore me darling!” You rolled your eyes before flinging your napkin off your lap.

“See! She’s a spoiled brat!” Robert whined.

“That’s rich coming from you!” You slapped him upside the head before his father let out a chuckle. Robert shot him a look and his father shook his head.

“You’re only bothered by her because she’s the only that puts up with your shit Robert! You don’t like that she’s dominating over you.” His father took another sip of his drink before he stood up. “You’re marrying her! That’s final. And if you try to find a way out, you can kiss your inheritance goodbye.” His father stormed out of the room leaving a pissy Robert sitting alone.

Later that evening you were in the silk sheets wearing his favorite little outfit with the faux fear that lined the top of the cleavage. Robert walked into the room and leaned against the door frame.

“What the matter ? So sad you have to marry little ol’ me ? The girl who gives you everything you want! The girl who praises you!” You sat up on your knees with a playful pout. “Must be awful having to marry the fuck who fucks you in the ass!” Robert slammed the door shut before he strolled over to you, grinned and wrapped his hand around your throat. Both of you smiled at each other before the grip tightened and you felt the air leave your lungs.

Robert watched as your eyes slowly closed before he let go of your throat making you suddenly gasp for air. Your breathing was uneasy but this was normal. His fingers traced over the marks on your neck making you perk up.

“You think you’re so cute, that you have the higher up in this but we both know who’s really in charge.” Robert pulled the strap of your lingerie making you jump when it snapped back against your skin. He licked his lips before he stripped down to just his boxers. “Now be a good girl and come suck my cock.” Robert stuck his hand down his boxers, pumped his cock enough to the get the precum on his fingers before taking his cum covered fingers and shoved them in your mouth. “That’s right baby, can’t talk back with your mouth full.”

You sucked heavily on his fingers while looking into his eyes. Robert pulled out his fingers and rubbed them across your face before pulling his boxers off. His cock was actually the biggest you’ve ever had considering one was made out of plastic , lived in your bedside table and once in a while went up his ass. He grabbed you by your hair, pulled you down and stood at the side of the bed as you laid down to wrap your lips around the head of his sticky cock. A soft moan left his lips as you sucked the head.

“See, so much better when your mouth is full of cock.” His hand smoothed over your hair while you look up at you with those oh so innocent eyes. He loved your innocent act but that’s what it was, an act but not for him no, he knew how bad you were behind the doors. How could some as sweet as you do such naughty things. You swirled your tongue around the head before slowly stuffing the rest of his cock down your throat. Your nose hit his trimmed happy trail making you scrunch your nose since it tickled.

Robert’s hand stayed on the back of your head while you sucked his cock eagerly. The sounds of you gagging mixed with his moans were enough to have you clenching around nothing. His fingers pulled on your hair making whine around his cock sending a shiver up his spine until he moved his hands to your cheeks and held them gently before he started thrusting down your throat.

Tears trickled down your cheeks, your hands gripped his thighs and he looked down at you with those dark eyes as he fucked your face. He loved face fucking you. You took it like the good girl you are. He pulled away and awed as the string of spit that connected his cock to your lips shined. You took your chance to breathe before sitting up on your knees. Robert pushed you back down before he climbed on top of you, pinned your hands above your head and held them there before he grabbed his belt off the floor to tie them above your head.

He grabbed your legs and spread them wide.

“Look at that, not wearing any panties and already dripping onto the sheets. What a fucking slut.” Robert slapped your pussy making you jump with excitement. He did it again making you yelp. “You would enjoy that.” He rolled his eyes as he spanked your pussy again.

You wiggled your hips but he pinned them back down before he sat between your legs to stroke your cunt slowly before sitting up on his knees, pulling you closer and rubbed the head against your soaked folds.

“Sir!” You gasped as he pushed the head in. Robert wasted no time in pushing his cock into. Your mouth hung open as he stretched you good. Even though you and Robert fucked a few times a week he always felt huge in you. Whines left your mouth as he held up your hips and fucked into you hard. Long deep strokes to hit that spot you liked. Robert reached between your bodies to rub circles on your clit with his thumb as you whined out his name.

“That’s it honey, taking my cock like a dirty fucking slut. Everyone thinks you’re so innocent but you’re such a dirty slut!” He wrapped your legs around his waist before he powered over you and placed his hands around your neck. Your signature smile appeared as he choked you out. Small gasps of breath were leaving your lungs as he fucked you faster, the sheets tangling below you as he looked into your eyes. You looked so pretty below him.

The bed rocked with his thrusts. Echos of his balls slapping against your cunt filled the room making you squeeze his cock. He let up on your throat before he hooked his fingers into your mouth. You greedily sucked on them . Robert wasn’t taking it easy on you. You had more tears streaming down your face until you felt him slap your face. You sucked faster on his fingers and smoothed your hair that time.

“Fuck! I’m going to cum in you sweetheart!”

You whimpered around his fingers until he pulled them out and wiped them across your breasts. He forced open your mouth before he spit in it and watched you swallow.

“That’s right baby, you take what I give you!” His thrusts were getting sloppy as he held onto your hips and coated your insides with his hot cum. “Take every last drop!” He grunted fucking his last few drops into you.

You whimpered signaling to him that you wanted him. Robert rubbed your clit fast in hard circles. You tried to close your eyes as your orgasm hit but he slapped you again making you look at him as you squeezed his cock.

“Good girl.” He pulled out of you, scooped up the leaking cum with three fingers before shoving them in your mouth. “Father always wanted me to marry a good girl, still don’t know if that’s actually you.” He pulled out his fingers as you laid there with your hands still tied above your head. Robert cleaned himself up before he even looked in your direction.

He was a spoiled little prick that you loved and in his own twisted way he loved you as well but he’d never admit it.

#robert fischer drabble #robert fischer x y/n #robert fischer blurb #robert fischer x you #robert fischer cillian murphy #cillian murphy #emsblurbs #cillian murphy smut #robert fischer smut #robert fischer x reader #robert fischer inception

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