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kamitv · 9 months ago

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Getting a call while Suguru’s balls deep inside you sounds so interesting, lowkey.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Your fiancé would coo into your ear, cock dipping in and out of your sopping cunt languidly as his hot breath hit the crown of your ear.

It would all be so intimate. The way Geto has you beneath him, holding your shaky legs open for himself as his heavy balls smacked against you every time he thrusted his fat cock into you. His hips were moving slow but his dick was splitting you open.

"Sugu," You'd gasp, nails scratching at his toned back as you panted out a heavy breath of air, "Fuck-, mmh..."

"Can't get enough of this pussy, mmgh. Listen t'her talk t'me," He whispers to you, the messy slick of your cunt wetting up his shaft as he drew his hips back hitting both of your ears, "Y’like that, baby? Like bein’ stuffed like this, hm?” Geto questions.

Though, his words weren’t directed to you.

He often did that during sex— talked to your cunt, referring to it as she and baby just like how he talks to you. And it gets even worse whenever he’s giving you head.

Currently though, as Geto talks you, and your pussy, through his steady strokes, you moan his name up until your phone begins to ring.

The sound of your loud ass ring tone makes your lover groan, leaning up away from you just to catch sight of who the hell was calling you. To his surprise, none other than his best friend’s contact name was beaming across your phone screen.

“Hahh,” Geto cracks a half smile, “The fuck is Satoru callin’ you for?” He asks, sounding annoyed despite the amusement etched onto his features.

The curve of his cock sinks deeper into you as he reaches for your cell phone and you scratch at his chest, too fucked out to render what the hell he was talking about. All you wanted was his body pressed up against yours again.

“S-Suguu, shit-, ignore it, please.” You huff out demandingly, earning nothing more than a mere glance from your fiancé as he peers down at you from the corner of his eye.

Swiping your phone up, “Why’s he calling?”

“I don’t know,” You pout, extending a hand to his neck and trying to pull him back down to you. Your attempt almost works as Geto is tugged a bit closer to you, his hips still and his eyes back on your phone buzzing in his palm.

Cocking his head to the side, he smirks, “Find out then,” Suguru says to you.

You’re confused for only a second before an explanation is given through him answering the call and pressing it to your ear. Your eyes go wide as you realize he wants you to talk to Satoru while he’s balls deep inside you.

Gulping, “Sugu-“

“Hello?” You get cut off by the connection of the phone call and the sound of Gojo’s voice in your ear.

Your fiancé smiles down at you and whispers, “Go on, talk to him, baby. Promise I won’t move,” He hums all too sweetly.

It was definitely suspicious coming from him. You’ve been down the road more times than you can count— Geto promising not to fuck you while you talk to someone but ultimately doing so anyway.

With pleading eyes, you nod, hoping he’ll keep his promise this time around. “Hi Satoru,” You say into the phone, watching your fiancé mock you through his facial expressions.

“Heyyy, how are youuu?” Gojo purrs over the phone, his tone letting you know he definitely called to ask you for something.

You take a deep breath, “M’fine, can I ask why you called?”

“Straight to the point I see,” Gojo says with that smug voice of his.

Rolling your eyes, you release a sigh, "Yeah, I guess so. I'm kinda busy right now so uh, make it quick." Your tone was a lot more put together than you expected of yourself, especially with Geto's thick inches stuffed into the hilt of your cunt.

And for a while he doesn't move, he just sit there, marinating in the warmth of your cunt and listening in on your conversation.

“Well, then," Gojo starts, his voice suddenly enthusiastic, "Remember when I came over last week?"

Geto starts to lean up again and you send him skeptical eyes, to which he flashes another innocent smile at you. Then you sigh, "Yes, why?"

"Did I uh, leave my jacket there?" The male over the phone asks.

You blink, "You could've texted me this question y'know," The end of your sentence comes off all too breathy as a thumb suddenly swats over your clit, your free hand moving down to Geto's finger and trying to swat him away.

He just smirks at you though and presses the pad of his thumb into you, watching the way your back arches a bit and your lips part.

"Yes, I could've texted you this questions buuuut, you always ignore me," Gojo argues.

You bite your lip for a moment as Geto draws small circles around your clit-- you knew he was going to do this and yet you still weren't prepared for it. "I do not," You breathe out.

On the other side of the phone, Gojo tilts his head and his borws furrow, "You alright over there? Y'sound out of breath."

"M'fine, Satoru. And n-no, I haven't seen your jacket," You stammer as Geto starts drawing his hips back his eyes locked down on your cunt and how lewdly it's spread open for his cock, smirking before he spits down on it.

"Right... Well can you ask Suguru then?" Gojo continues, "I really need it for-"

"Can I just call you back?" You say all in one breath, trying your best to keep your composure as Geto eases himself back into you, fucking you so very slowly that it's both tortuous and stimulating at the same time.

The full stretch of Geto's thick girth way driving you insane, the way he'd ease back and then push forward, thumbing your clit simultaneously as his salvia smeared and mixed with the mess you've already made of him from earlier.

"Please?" You suddenly whine, not sure if it was really directed toward Gojo or Geto as you said it.

That's when Gojo pauses, his hears practically perking up at the tone of your voice, "Hey... No need to beg me to get off the phone, y'know," He hums, his voice suddenly... lower? "I would've hung up without the please but I dunno, you sound busier than I expected."

Your brows furrow at his sudden resistance toward ending the call, "Meaning?" You question, eyes focused on your fiance's face which was twisted up and he groaned quietly due to the sudden squeeze of your cunt.

There's a slight scoff over the phone, "Oh nothing, just uh-, well, am I interrupting something?"

Your lashes bat in disbelief of Gojo and Geto's losing his mind at how much your pussy's throbbing around his cock. Was that his doing or his best friend's doing? What exactly was Satoru saying to you over the phone and why were you squirming so much?

Geto tears his eyes away from where the two of you are connected and he looks at your face, spotting that you're basically just as confused as he is. Tipping his head to the side, he locks eyes with you and decides that that's the perfect time to thrust every inch of himself back into you.

The way your jaw drops, a moan pouring out so clearly and obscenely-- it makes Geto smile, nearly forgetting that Gojo probably heard that...

Probably would be an understatement too because Gojo's on his end of the call with his face flushed and his eyes widened, "Did you just moan?" He questions.

And as he does so, Geto decides not to hold back anymore, working up that brutal pace of his thrust by thrust as you slap a hand over your mouth and moan into your palm.

Barely even able to utter a response to Gojo, "N-No," You gasp, "I just-, mmh. Fuck, can I please call you back?"

Gojo blinks. Then he swallows, thickly, "Where's Suguru?"

Your mouth opens to respond but the phone is suddenly taken from you. Geto places one hand to your lower abdomen and pushes down slightly on the imprint in your skin where his cock is, his hips smacking into you roughly as you body jerked and you spasm.

Then you hear Geto speaking and realize he's taken the phone, "Busy fuckin' her to tears, call you back later 'Toru," He hums out simply.

Gojo coughs and then he laughs, "Hey wait," He stalls without second thought.

Your fiance tilts his head into the phone and his hips grow a bit harsher with you, the pressure of his hand on your lower abdomen making his swollen cock hit deeper and deeper. Then there was that mean curve of his, beating into where you were sensitive and making you whimper.

"Hm?" Geto hums in response, sounding almost annoyed.

"Y'Mind if I stay on the phone and listen?"

(pt. 2)

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digiflora · 1 year ago

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𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐓 '𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇 𝐑𝐎𝐓!

╭─────────────────────── ( 🍭 )

he just can't get enough of your pussy !

› 〉 📂 .ೃ | 🚨🚨🚨SMUT !! (f!reader receiving oral & fingering), uhhh pussydrunk hsr men who are MUNCHES <3, i think this is the first time writing smut on this blog so hereee we gooo, uhh clit slapping (only once thanks blade), overstim, nothin toooo crazy, ever so slight dom!reader for sampo (that man needs to get topped so bad) + you call him a pervert idk, squirting (shoutout luocha 😙)

╰─➤ 💌 ₍₁₎ I HAVENT WRITTEN SMUT IN AGESSSS SO PLS BE NICE AND TO MY MUTUALS SORRY THT THIS SHOWS UP ON YOUR DASHBOARD LETS STILL BE FRIENDS PLS 😭

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 JING YUAN.

this is a dangerous game when he's involved

as a general, jing yuan is very accustomed to being in charge, of taking charge and ensuring that things happen

and as a man who cares more about the hours outside of his work than during, who can blame him for wanting to commemorate each time that he comes home to you?

he's always been very giving as a lover, that much is true. and as a man with a tendency to be more on the... spontaneous side, you were no stranger to a quickie in a slightly less than convenient location. he just couldn't bear to leave you uncared for, after all.

so really, you should have expected that he would quite literally stoop to this level. one minute he was walking through the front door, you calling out a greeting to him from the sink as you washed some dishes.

and the next minute, he was on his knees behind you, your skirt flipped up over your hips and panties tugged to the side as he began to eat you out with some type of renewed fervour.

it had you slapping one hand over your mouth, the other white-knuckled as you hold on for dear life to the kitchen counter. your legs were very quickly turning to jelly due to his ministrations, the feeling of his tongue fucking into you rendering you unable to form sentences.

and even worse than the sensation was the sound of it- every lick and slurp reverbating through the empty room, every squelch of your pussy making you go a shade darker as jing yuan moaned, the bastard, and delved even further into your pussy. your hips pushed against him, his hands snaking their way around your thighs to keep you pinned in place while he ate you out like his life depended on it.

you bit back a squeal as you felt his tongue flick against your clit before running back through your folds, circling the hole before fucking back into you.

"fuck, i love this pussy so much," he moaned out, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh as he came up for air momentarily. "love comin' home to you every day- you taste so good, so good f'me-"

any attempts at muffling your noises were extinguished as you let out a sob, tears welling up from the pleasure, making you fold over so that your torso rested against the counter. your legs were spread wide by now, giving jing yuan all the access that he needed.

he relinquished one of your thighs in favour of using his fingers to pump into you, curling them just right against that spongy spot that had you shaking like a leaf, feeling the pressure build inside you much quicker than you anticipated.

"fuck- fuck- i can't, 's so good-" you were babbling now, trying in vain to break free or push his head away, the pleasure bordering on too much. it was comically easy how ineffective your attempts to hinder him were,

"you can." his voice was some soothing reprieve, and the warmth of his hands squeezing against your hips helped to ground you as he otherwise brought you to the edge.

your thighs were trembling, barely supporting your weight and you could feel your release fast approaching, though something was holding you back.

"cum f'me." jing yuan's rasped voice is what finally coaxed you to let go, to let that string snap with a final cry as you collapsed fully against the countertop.

always diligent, jing yuan continued to eat you out, making sure not to miss a drop as you spasmed against him, hips finally stilling after you ride out your high.

"bastard." your voice is muffled, head resting on your forearms as your regain your strength. jing yuan merely chuckles, placing a kiss with his wet lips to your inner thigh again, one last jolt of pleasure running through you before he stands, fixing your clothes for you.

"but you love it."

you give him a halfhearted kick in the shin.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 SAMPO.

he's the type of man who's best in small doses

the amount of times you get annoyed while he's on another tangent or trying to scam you sell you a product is..... a bit more than infrequent

but there's ways around that

"sampo, do you ever shut up?"

ironically enough, you asking him that made him do just that, pausing for a second to lick his lips as his smile widened, cheshire-like, as you watched the cogs turn in his head.

"no, but for a small standalone price-"

if youuu put a buck in my cup i will shut the fuck up (sorry)

"sampo."

the man cackles, slinging an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in to his side.

"sorry, doll, but a man has to make a living somehow."

you turn to glare at him now. you really weren't in the mood.

"either shut up or i'll make you."

you watch as his smile drops for just a second, his pupils dilating ever so slightly at the underlying hint of what's to come. and bless his heart, the man decided to push his luck.

approximately five minutes later, you were grinding on his face. the only noises that he really made now were occasional grunts and moans as you rocked back and forth, and you decided that you liked him much better when he wasn't talking.

the man with a silver tongue had his uses, after all.

he was so eager to please, too- from what you could tell with the way he was eating you out. if it weren't for the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling, you would be convinced that he was enjoying it more than you. his moans reverberated around your clit as his tongue flicked over and sucked it, leaving you keeling over and your thighs quaking against the sides of his head.

every moan you let out had him eating you out with a renewed fervour, almost desperate for you to reach your high. you let your hand snake into his hair, getting a full handful before yanking on it, hard. sampo whines from the sensation, and you almost miss the muffled plea for you to do it "again".

his fingertips are digging into your thighs almost painfully, keeping you seated firmly against him (not that you were going to move, anyway).

your eyes land on the tent in his boxers, and an idea pops into your head as you snake your hand past his abdomen to pull his waistband down, letting his cock spring free. it looked painfully hard, the tip already leaking pearls of precum, and you spat in your hand before starting to jerk him off, ever so slowly.

he whined again at the pressure, his hips thrusting up to meet your hand, desperate for any sort of friction.

"you're getting off to this, you pervert?" you laughed as he shook his head desperately, still plunging his tongue deep inside you even as his hips bucked wildly. he was already so close, it almost made you laugh.

you yourself were beginning to feel the coil deep within you start to tighten, a telltale sign that your own orgasm was approaching.

"so if i were to just... stop, you wouldn't mind?" to emphasise your point, you loosened your grip on him, grinning to yourself as he whined pathetically.

"hm... that's what i thought."

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 BLADE.

blade's mean when he eats you out

he's one of those who eats it for his own pleasure, and whether it's until you orgasm once or multiple times, he's not stopping until he's satisfied, overstimulation be damned

"you still alive there?" the man between your thighs snickers at your fucked-out state, not even able to form a sentence to answer him.

how many times had he made you cum by now? six? seven? you'd lost count long ago, and you don't think it mattered much to blade. sometime after the second one, it began to dawn on you that his goal wasn't to simply make you cum then call it a day.

"c'mon, eyes on me." you squeal at the sensation of his hand slapping down against your clit, the raw flesh stinging for a few moments before his hand smooths it over, soothing the skin.

"you can handle one more, right?" you lift your head weakly to meet his ravenous eyes, somehow even hungrier than when he had first started peeling your clothes off. the look in his eyes made a shiver run down your skin, and you gave him a sheepish nod.

"attagirl."

blade's one to keep you on your toes, never knowing just what to expect from him. he ducks his head down, leveling it with your still pulsing hole, and you gasp as you hear, then feel him spit on it.

there's a blunt intrusion as he sinks two of his fingers into you, knuckles deep, crooking them just right to hit that spot inside you. your leg twitches as an automatic response, making the man snicker again.

"you're so sensitive," he coos, and you hide your embarrassed face with your arm. "i bet if i just..." your body seizes up as you cum, again, more sudden than you ever expected as blade presses harder against you. a strangled moan flies out of your mouth, writhing at the pressure.

he's nice enough to let you ride out your high, pathetically grinding your clit against his palm, whimpering at the tenfold sensitivity and the little aftershocks wracking your body.

and when you're finally breathing normally again, you hear his voice break you out of your stupor.

"one more?"

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 GEPARD.

what he lacks in experience is made up for doubly in enthusiasm

because let's be real, this man is too busy with the silvermane guards to have enough time to be dating and fucking around

but for you? he'd make the time. and he'd learn how to get you off while he's at it, too

"so if you just, slide your fingers in, slowly." gepard follows your instructions dutifully, and even then you still winced at the feeling of his large fingers stretching you out, the slightest of burns already kicking in.

"like this?" he looks up at you, all puppy dog eyes, so eager to learn. his face was too innocent for what he was doing.

"mhmm." you smile down at him, his face rested against one of your thighs as his gaze returns to your cunt, glued to the way it stretches around his digits. he feels you pulse against him and he shudders, trying to hold back for your sake. he was here to learn what you liked, after all.

"and then you kind of... curl them a bit? and move them too." his ministrations are soft to begin with, and even there's still an unmistakeable squelch each time he pumps his fingers into you, the lewdness of it all making him turn pink.

"does that feel good?"

"y-yeah, so good, baby."

he's so close to your pussy, you can feel each time he breathes, his little pants hitting your clit, making you even wetter. the anticipation of it all had you practically squirming where you lay propped up on your elbows, watching him.

his eyes are still transfixed on you, mouth hanging open at the way your hips rolled ever so slightly, meeting each of his shallow thrusts.

"you see that bit above? if you lick it, it'll feel really good f'me." gepard nods, all too eagerly leaning forward, licking a thick stripe from your hole to the clit with his tongue, before starting to flick his tongue against it gingerly.

"yeah, fuck, you're good at this." he hums against you, starting to move his tongue with a little more fervour, his hand still pumping into you. he always had been a fast learner.

he settles into a rhythm, one that has you steadily building the pressure in your core, soft moans escaping your lips.

"just like that, fuuuck," you pant out, letting your head roll back and your eyes closed as you focused on the feeling. it's then when gepard decides to wrap his lips around your clit, sucking ever so deliciously to make your toes curl.

you let out a particularly loud moan at the sensation, one that your ever so perceptive boyfriend latches onto, increasing the pressure in a way that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"geppie m'gonna cum- don't stop-" he obeys your every word, slurping at your cunt with a hunger that sends you over the edge. you convulse, hips raising off of the mattress to buck against his face, his fingers curling around your quaking thighs.

"use my face, darling," he murmurs into you, so eager to please. the way the ridge of his nose bumps against your clit helps you ride out your high, grinding against his mouth a few more times before you finally flop back down against, the bed, limbs turning to jelly.

"no fucking way that was your first time eating someone out." gepard merely grins, wiping some of your juices off of his face before crawling up the bed to meet you.

"'m sure it was, now give me a kiss."

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 LUOCHA.

your life will be CHANGED after this man eats u out for the first time i just know it

like.. he's got skills. he's a certified munch i know this in my SOULLLLL

"just relax, honey, let me take care of you." his velveteen voice is what has you finally lying back, letting the tension in your body leave you as his nimble fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, sliding them off of your legs ever so tantalisingly.

he groans at the string of slick that stays connected to them- no surprises there as you had been sat on his lap kissing him for the past half an hour- and you covered your face in embarrassment.

"don't go shy on me now, hm?" you peek between your fingers, catching the glint of his emerald eyes, the way his smile widens when he makes eye contact with you from his place between your legs.

"hi, pretty."

"hi."

"we can go as slow as you want, okay? tell me what you're comfortable with." luocha's thumbs rub gentle circles into your thighs, coaxing you to open them and let him settle more comfortably.

"do you want me to touch you?" you nod, watching as luocha's smirks almost imperceptibly.

"use your words, darling." you whine, kicking at him lightly.

"quit teasing me."

"do you want my fingers or my tongue?"

"luocha!" he chuckles, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee.

"i'm sorry, love, you're just so cute when you're flustered." he presses another kiss to your thigh now, lips inching upwards ever so slowly, holding himself back as he waits for your go-ahead.

"could you... eat me out?" your face feels so warm just from asking the question, but the nerves are quelled as luocha smiles brightly, shifting his weight on his hips to lower himself down closer to you.

"gladly."

there's a few seconds of anticipation, of his breath hitting your core before another entirely new sensation- something wet and muscled sliding against you as luocha licks a flat stripe through your slit. his tongue sharpens, flicking against your clit as he pulls away after his experimental first taste.

you're already feeling something inside you coil in anticipation, and it tightens even more at the blissed out expression on luocha's face.

"you taste divine, my love."

and then he's delving in for more. your usually so composed boyfriend lying flat on his stomach, buried facefirst in your pussy and eating it like a man starved.

the slurping and squelching noises are obscene, echoing off of the walls and filling up the room along with your wails and moans. your head was in the clouds right now, too fucked out to even scream his name. and he hadn't even put his tongue in yet.

as if reading your mind, luocha finally shifts his attention to your hole, his tongue circling it, teasing it open, before he plunges in along with his fingers, the size of them and his fingertips grazing against your g spot bringing you to the verge of tears.

everything just felt so good, and he was going to make you cum hard and fast.

the regular pressure of an impeding orgasm kept building up, more than it regularly would, until it became an entirely new sensation altogether.

"w-wait, baby, i'm gonna pee or something-"

luocha pauses, pupils blown wide with lust as he meets your gaze.

"you're not, honey, just trust me, alright?"

and because it's him, because you'd do just about anything for him right now if it meant continuing to feel this good, you lie back down, feeling him bring you back to that point again.

his fingers are drilling into you at an almost inhuman pace, the sound enough to make you cum, let alone the sensation. his soft lips suction around your clit, warm tongue flicking against your bundle of nerves repeatedly, making you squeal and throw your head back.

"'m gonna-" luocha nods encouragingly, his nose bumping against your clit in a way that has your vision go white as you writhe in ecstasy. there's an odd feeling, of something shooting out of you, and you look down to see a spray of clear liquid. luocha's fingers rub against your pusy frantically, making you writhe again, prolonging your orgasm as he milks you for every last drop.

you finally come back down to earth, vaguely feeling a warm wet cloth wipe away at you, at the mess you had made.

and luocha's gazing at you with nothing but adoration, a pussydrunk smile on his lips.

"aren't you glad you trusted me, love?"

𝜗𝜚 honkai star rail masterlist

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urprettylildoe · 4 months ago

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𝒫𝓇𝒾𝒸ℯ 𝓉ℴ 𝓅𝒶𝓎

♡ yandere landlord x fem reader ♡ warnings: yandere behaviour, implied future nsfw

Money's tight and things weren't getting any better. Winter's approaching, but you feared that you would end up on the streets soon with no place to go to.

You were just too busy looking through rose-tinted glasses to realise that being on your on your one is nowhere as easy as it seemed to be.

So, with no other options, you seeked out your landlord, knocking on the office door. Surely, he'd understand; he was a little older yet a great guy.

He greeted you with a kind smile and even kinder eyes, though you failed to notice how they lingered for far too long as you walked inside.

"So, what can I do for you, Y/N?" The landlord beamed, making himself comfortable in his chair behind the wooden desk. His fingers tapped mindlessly against the surface, almost anticipatingly.

Your fingers cupped the warm coffee cup he insisted on you having, and you can't help the shaky sigh from leaving you. "I..." you dropped your gaze to floor in shame of what's about to come, "I know I'm behind on rent. Things have been really tough recently, and all I'm asking is a bit more time to pay."

Eyes stinging, you awaited inevitable, harsh refusal and him sending you to pack your bags.

The chair scraped against the floor and you heard footsteps approaching you, "Oh, baby, why didn't you say so before?" His soft tone only made you feel worse about the situation. "Of course I'll give you all the time you need. what kind of man would I be if I kicked a sweet thing like you out on the streets, hm?"

You stood up, forcing your knees to stop trembling from the sheer force of relief that just hit you. "Oh, thank you, sir! I owe you, really"

"My pleasure," he hummed, reaching out a calloused hand to cradle your cheek, "but you look tired. Have you been overworking yourself? I can lend you some money, y'know."

"Oh, no, no, no. You've already been so kind enough," you hold your hands up frantically.

He loved it when you got all bashful and cute, one of the many reasons why he didn't wanna let you go. It would be a hassle to find and keep an eye on you again, but it's not like you'd be moving with your situation anytime soon.

Smiling, your landlord lowered your hands. "Please, let me help. You can't do everything on your own or else you'll get sick."

Your shoulders drooped in defeat and a hint of relief, "okay, okay"

"Good girl," the choice of wording made your cheeks flush, but you managed to snap out of it.

"Well, thank you again, sir." Grabbing your bag, you placed your hand on the doorknob-

-only for his much larger one to cover yours, stopping you in your tracks.

"Now, now, where do you think you're going?"

The air around you froze and your heart skipped a beat, but this time it wasn't because of the butterflies.

"Um, I was just heading ba-"

"You didn't think I'd just let you leave after this, right?" His eyes didn't hold that same tenderness; it was more rapacious. "Not after actin' all cute like I wasn't gonna notice, sweetie."

Your back hit the a dead end as you craned your head up to look at the unfamiliar man standing in front of you. "Sir?" You whispered hesitantly, unsure of what was going on. Your hands planted themselves against his chest to keep a distance when he leaned down to almost kiss you.

A laugh rumbled dangerously in his chest, "you're adorable," he pinned your arms above your head, rendering you helpless, "a little naive, yet still adorable."

Squirming, you were hit with a sense of dread, "what are you-"

"Shh," his nose brushed against yours, "you owe me, right? Well, here's how to pay me back. You do wanna live here, right?"

You didn't have a choice — desperate times call for desperate measures. And something about the way he leered at you told you that this man was hungry.

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hard-core-super-star · 9 months ago

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push me on the counter, call me princess [W.Maximoff; N.Romanoff]

pairing: dom!wanda maximoff x sub!reader x dom!natasha romanoff

summary: you and wanda develop a connection you definitely shouldn't have with someone in a relationship. unbeknowst to you, it's all part of their plan.

warnings: PURE SMUT, MINORS DO NO INTERACT -> mentions of cheating! [no actual cheating, though! wandanat have an agreement, R doesn't know about it until things get spicy]; mommy + daddy kink; nipple play; impact play; wanda using her powers to hold R down; fingering [R receiving]; oral [Nat receiving]; twinges of humiliation; degradation + praise; nat's a little mean but we love her for it; use of the term 'slut'; probably more but i forgot

wordcount: 3.3k

a/n: so...i'm technically not doing anything official for kinktober this year because school is kicking my butt already BUT i have a few ideas for some very filthy smut fics so i'll be posting them this month. i haven't written for wandanat in a minute so i hope i did them justice. please let me know your thoughts, i hope you enjoy <3

[part two | part three]

* * * * * * *

It was supposed to be a one time thing.

That's what you told Wanda when she pushed you against the farthest wall in some dingy, badly-lit, New York bar.

The two of you had come back from a long, draining, mission and, instead of staying at the Compound and actually resting, you decided to go out and get drunk to let off some steam. The mission had technically been a success, but it had also been a pain in the ass...and in the shoulder, thanks to the knife wound you'd received.

So, yeah, maybe going out wasn't the best idea in the first place.

In your defense, it was borderline impossible to say no to the witch. Mainly because she was very convincing when she wanted to be, but also because of your massive, and borderline ridiculous, crush on her.

To make matters worse, Wanda was pissed off at Natasha for...something and you ended up taking the place of a supportive partner.

It would have been fine had the drinks in your system not made your inhibitions lower significantly, which rendered you helpless against the green-eyed woman of your dreams. Then again, it's not like you were particularly against that idea in the first place.

Maybe that made you a horrible person.

Maybe that made Wanda a monster.

But how could she be one when she whispered the sweetest words in your ear while taking you over the edge and destroying you in the most pleasurable of ways? How could there be anything wrong about her soft caresses and gentle smiles?

A part of you knows the answer. It's wrong because the witch's heart isn't yours. Or worse, because someone else's heart belongs to the witch.

Because for all their problems and arguments, Wanda and Natasha love each other. At the very least, they tolerate each other enough to stay together.

And you don't fit into their relationship.

You shouldn't.

But Wanda isn't a person you can just ignore.

She makes that perfectly clear no less than a week after your little "mistake".

You're in the kitchen at the Compound, eating some leftovers and scrolling through your phone to keep yourself occupied, when Wanda walks in. You don't need to look at her to know she's pissed off. Her energy is way too heavy to mean anything else.

"Hey, Wands," you say, barely looking up from your phone out of fear of falling under her spell once more.

She walks over to you, leaning against the counter and silently watching you for a second. Her silence honestly scares you, but you don't question her yet. You know better than that.

"You've been avoiding me," she says, her voice soft yet not gentle. "Why is that?"

A shiver runs down your spine at the question.

You know you can't lie to her, she's a freaking mind reader, but you can't exactly tell her the truth. You've both been trying to ignore it since the morning you woke up tangled together in her bed.

A bed she shares with someone who isn't you.

"I've been busy," you reply with a shrug. "Kate's been forcing me to train every day."

Clearly, that's the wrong answer, considering the tilt of her head.

Yup. You're fucked now.

"Is that so? I didn't realize you two were such good...friends."

Wanda pushes herself off the counter, taking slow, calculated, steps until she's standing behind you. If you weren't so focused on keeping your voice steady, you might have been able to guess what her plan in.

"Well, we both love annoying Clint and making Yelena mad."

She hums in response as her arms wrap themselves around you, pulling you back until you're firmly pressed against her.

The action almost makes you fall off your stool. You somehow stay put, though, even as every fiber of your being tells you to leave. The harsh truth is that you don't want to leave.

You want her so badly that the consequences don't seem to matter.

Nothing matters but her.

Which is exactly what she wants.

"You should be careful with the little archer," she says, her hands not so subtly caressing your sides. "You know she's just going to use you then throw you away when she's bored."

The irony in her words isn't lost on you.

You open your mouth to let her know that when her hands move up and brush against your chest. It takes all your willpower to stop yourself from gasping.

"Wanda," you hiss. "We're in the middle of the kitchen."

"Relax, detka," she whispers into your ear, your body instantly obeying her words. "You know I won't let anyone see."

"Do I?" you reply. "Because it seems exactly like something you'd enjoy."

The witch chuckles despite herself. "That's true but you're not the only trying to keep things a secret."

You know her words should make you feel worse about this whole thing but right now, they only serve to turn you on. As messed up as it is, there's something exciting about the situation.

About how much Wanda wants you.

So, even though you know you should push her away, you lean back against her, allowing her hands to explore your body however she wishes.

Your obedience (if you can even call it that) is instantly rewarded by the other woman. Her hands sneak their way under your shirt, her fingers drawing teasing shapes on your warm skin as she makes the journey upward.

"You're such a good girl for me, baby," she mumbles almost absent-mindedly. "Letting me use you like this. Letting me play with you whenever I want."

A part of you wants to put up a fight. To show her you have a bigger backbone than she realizes. That you're able to switch the tables on her whenever you want.

Unfortunately, that part of you goes quiet the second her fingers find your nipples. "Look at you, all ready for me, huh?"

"Shut up," you mumble as your cheeks heat up.

Your words of defiance earn you a sharp pinch to your already sensitive nipples. "Watch your mouth, sweetheart."

It's impossible to stop your back from arching as the leftover sting rushes through your system. You'd learned the hard way that Wanda could either be the sweetest or the most unforgivable lover. In a way, it made being with her all the more exciting...and unpredictable.

Then again, you can't pretend you don't like it. If you didn't, you would have never gotten mixed up with her in the first place.

"Sorry," you whisper, not sounding particularly sincere.

If Wanda notices, she doesn't point it out and instead goes right back to playing with your chest, squeezing and pinching your nipples as she pleases.

Her actions only serve to make you more and more desperate for her. It's almost embarrassing how good she is at reading you. At knowing exactly what buttons to push to turn you into a shaking, pleading mess.

A part of you knows it's thanks to her powers that she can read your desires so well, but you ignore the thought for now. You could beat yourself up over all this later, right now, you had a very important task ahead of you.

"You're eager today," she teases, her eyes zeroing in on the slight movement of your hips. "Did you miss me that much?"

You're not sure why you're in such a defiant mood today but your mouth moves way faster than your thoughts. "Yeah, Kate was too busy today."

You don't see the scarlet that begins to overtake her eyes since you have your back to her. You miss the warning signs until she uses her magic to bend you over the counter, keeping your hands behind your back.

"You're going to regret talking to me like that," she says, holding you down easily thanks to her magic.

It's obvious you should apologize and yet you remain as composed as you possibly can given the situation. As stupid as it is, you're still mad at her for putting you in this situation.

Out of the two of you, she was the one who was in the wrong. She was the one fucking up her relationship just because she was upset with her girlfriend. And she had the audacity to pull you down with her.

To make you like it.

You couldn't place all the blame on her and yet you did it anyway. As if that would somehow fix the entire situation.

Her hand comes down on your ass before you can make your predicament worse. The sudden sensation makes you jump, the leftover sting taking over your mind.

"Wanda." Your attempt to sound mad falls completely flat since your voice is far too breathless for it to be convincing.

She spanks you again. Once. Twice. Each time striking both harder and faster.

"Try again, detka," she tells you, her voice unforgiving. "And then maybe, I'll go easy on you."

She won't.

You know she won't. But the idea that she could is more than tantalizing enough.

Although, then again, it wasn't like you didn't enjoy calling her by her beloved title.

"Mommy," you whisper, your voice sounding way too loud in the empty kitchen.

You don't need to be looking at her to see the proud grin that takes over her features.

This is the real reason why she wants you. Why she likes being with you. Because she doesn't need to fight you to get you to submit to her every whim.

"Good girl." Wanda's hands toy with the waistband of your pants. "Tell me what you want."

You allow the silence to drag on for a second longer than necessary. You both know you won't deny her, you can't, but that doesn't mean you can't keep her guessing.

Maybe then she'll grow tired of you and stop using you so carelessly.

"Want you to touch me...please, mommy."

You half expect her to drag the moment out until you can't hold yourself back from begging for more. For her.

She doesn't, though, because unbeknownst to you, she's playing a different kind of game with you today.

Wanda uses her powers to undress you, barely giving you a second to register just how vulnerable she's leaving you. You know no one will walk in on you two, she promised you that much, but that doesn't make it any less scary...and thrilling.

"Look at you," she coos, her fingers spreading your slick folds. "So wet and I've barely even touched you. Such a needy thing, aren't you, sweetheart?"

It's embarrassing how hard your walls clench around pure air from the mere tone of her voice. It's that intoxicating mix between degrading and sweet that you want everything she's willing to give you.

"Yes, mommy," you whimper.

"Oh, I know," she says, pushing the tip of her index finger into your tight cunt. "She's such a good girl, isn't she?"

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion but her powers hold you down and stop you from turning to look at her. Your question is answered before you can even ask it, though, as a certain pair of black boots make their way into your field of vision.

"I'm not sure." The sound of Natasha's voice sends a shiver down her spine. "She looks like a desperate slut to me."

Wanda stops you from answering, thanks to her powers. "Oh, come on, Nat, don't be mean. Look how eager she is to be played with."

The redhead rolls her eyes. "That just proves my point."

The witch laughs, taking the moment to sink her finger deeper into your pussy, relishing the wet sounds that fill the kitchen. You're more than a little humiliated, but there's nothing you can do to stop it. Worse, there's nothing you can do to deny how wet the situation is making you.

How desperate you are for more.

Wanda knows. Of course, she knows. It's partly because of her powers and partly because she knows your body far too well. And because she knows you so well, she gives you a chance to call the whole thing off before it even truly starts.

"What's your color, y/n?"

It would be so easy to say "red" and stop everything. You know there would be zero judgement. That despite whatever agreement they've come to, they'd both take a step back and make sure you were okay.

And yet...you can't seem to form the word.

Because, as much as you don't want to admit it...you want this.

"Green..." you whisper.

Wanda leans in, taking your mind off of Natasha's eyes on you, and peppers soft kisses across your back. The softness of her lips is a stark contrast to her previous demeanor and it helps calm down your speeding nerves.

The Russian steps forward, her hand cupping your face and gently tilting it backward until your eyes meet. "You want this, don't you, darling?"

You don't want to admit it but you can't bring yourself to lie to her. "Yes...I want this."

The sharpness in her eyes fades away slightly. There's still an edge of annoyance in her features but she looks almost as turned on as you feel. "Good girl."

Your walls clench around Wanda's finger and she chuckles before starting to move in and out of your tight heat. "I think she likes you, Nat."

"Shut up."

Wanda adds another finger into the mix, expertly stretching you out and drawing out a long moan from your parted lips. "That's it, just give in, sweetheart. Doesn't it feel better when you stop thinking so much?"

It's startling how right she is.

She doesn't wait for an answer this time, though, she simply speeds up her movements, curling her fingers in the way that drives you crazy. The pleasure slowly overwhelms your mind, removing all other thoughts until all you can focus on is how good it all feels. How much you like submitting to them like this.

"Mommy..." You whine, watching the way Natasha's eyes darken in response to your sounds. "Please...need more."

"Aw, are two fingers not enough for you, baby?" The fake pity in her tone turns you on more than it should. "Does your greedy pussy need more?"

You nod desperately, ignoring the humiliation that lingers in your every move.

All that earns you is another laugh from Wanda and an eye roll from Natasha.

The redhead steps back from you, causing you to whimper, before her hands move to her belt. Her eyes remain on yours as she starts removing her garments, slowly revealing the red strap-on resting between her legs.

Your lips part almost instantly once you catch sight of the full size of it and just how incredibly dominant it makes Natasha look. You shouldn't be surprised considering what everyone, including Wanda, always say about her. Then again, seeing is believing.

"So fucking eager, aren't you?" You know the Russian is technically making fun of you, but you can't help feeling a bit proud of yourself for the grin on her face.

She steps forward, her hands coming up to tangle in your hair and guide you forward. There's something weirdly soft about her movements, about the way she takes her time with you. Maybe, just maybe, she likes you more than she's let on.

You wrap your lips around the head of the dildo, your eyes glued to Natasha's face. You can see the flecks of pleasure spreading across her features, the way she clenches her jaw to stop herself from vocalizing it. It's like you're stuck in a far too arousing competition with her. Each of you trying your damn harderst to break the other.

Unfortunately for you, you also have Wanda working behind you, her fingers restlessly pumping in and out of your soaked entrance. She knows exactly how to wind you up.

Exactly how to keep you on your toes yet wanting more.

Natasha guides you further down her cock, working the length deeper into your mouth. "You look so much better like this, malyshka."

"I told you," Wanda pipes up, choosing that exact moment to work another finger into your tight heat. "You just wanted to be a party pooper."

"Keep talking like that and you'll be next, Maximoff."

"You're no fun."

You've never heard Wanda like this. So pouty and borderline bratty. It's a stark contrast to the dominant woman you've grown so attached to. To the one that turns your brain to putty with just a few words.

"Don't get any ideas, sweetheart. Mommy's still in charge here."

You moan in response, the sound muffled by the dildo currently stuffing your mouth.

"If you're Mommy," Natasha says, starting to thrust into your mouth. "Does that make me Daddy?"

You try to voice your approval for the title but neither of the women pay attention to you. They just keep talking like you're not even there, like all you are is a toy for them to play with.

"I thought you didn't like being called that."

The redhead shrugs in response. "I don't but now I'm curious."

"I think our good girl would like it."

You wait for Natasha to complain and say something about how you aren't theirs. Maybe make fun of you again for even thinking they'd ever entertain that idea.

She doesn't, though.

All she does is double her efforts as she keeps thrusting into your mouth.

The kitchen fills with the sounds of your pleasure as they both play with your needy holes.

You feel yourself growing closer and closer to the edge, the coil in your stomach getting tighter with each one of their well-timed thrusts. You're completely at their mercy and you love every second of their never-ending show of dominance.

Of control over you.

Wanda's movements speed up and you do your best to ask for permission to cum, knowing all too well the consequences that would await you if you forgot. It's practically impossible to speak, though, considering the way Natasha is still thrusting into your mouth, her hips grinding against the base of the dildo each time she slips the length back inside.

"I know, baby," the witch reassures you. "You want to cum so bad, don't you?"

All she gets is a muffled whine in response, your body jerking forward when her thumb teases your swollen clit.

"Go ahead, darling," Natasha speaks up, her voice practically a low growl. "Cum all over Mommy's fingers for me."

You're not used to receiving such a command from the redhead and yet your body reacts immediatly to her tone. Your whole body seems to come alive as you fall over the edge, Wanda's fingers never ceasing in their movements. She expertly draws out your pleasure until you're left shaking and panting.

The ringing in your ears doesn't allow you to hear the string of moans that leave Natasha's mouth as she watches the scene. The sight of you coming undone so violently causes her to fall apart, her fingers tightening in your hair until you're sputtering for air.

Thankfully, Wanda knows your limits well.

No words are exchanged as she uses her magic on you again. You're barely coherent, your mind still too muddled by pure pleasure and the cotton-filled haze of submission.

She gently sets you down on the couch, wiping down your soaked skin with a wet cloth, making sure to look you over in case their rough movements bruised you up.

"You okay, darling?" The witch asks as she settles down next to you.

You nod in response, shifting a little until your head rests in her lap. "Yeah...just tired."

"You should get some rest, detka. We have a lot to talk about."

Her words make you laugh. "That's an understament, Wands."

"Whatever." She moves her hand down to run her fingers through your hair, gently scratching your scalp as sleep overcomes you.

There's a lot you don't understand, a lot you really figure out, but you feel safe with the knowledge that you haven't ruined anything. That you're not an intruder in their relationship. If anything, you're a welcome addition.

#wandanat x reader #kinktober 2024 #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat #wandanat smut #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #mommy wanda #avengers fanfiction #marvel fic #mcu imagine #wlw fic #writing

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deadsetobsessions · 1 year ago

Text

Danny used to be a vigilante, firmly on the side of good. Like, illegally, but morally good.

Danny’s 100% sure that whatever he is now, it’s not good.

Is Gotham’s influence just Like That?

He was homeless when he got to this thrice damned city (literally, because Lady Gotham was so cursed) and now he’s… here? In a mid-level penthouse with a rotation of homeless kids going in and out of his kitchen and eating out his pantry??

Danny adjusted the cuffs of his dress shirt, making the conscious decision to ditch the tie. He’s a tall 6ft 4 now, taking after his Dad. His head smarted all of the time, hitting doorframes when he was being a bit clumsier than the normal ghost-like grace he had learned to channel as The Phantom.

The Phantom instead of just Phantom. Why? Because Phantom was the name of a teenage vigilante in another dimension. The Phantom, on the other hand, is an intimidatingly tall, deceptively kind, extremely dangerous kingpin.

Honestly? Danny didn’t even want this life. Like, he had no idea it would snowball like this??

He supposed that it all started when the Penguin was trying to snatch kids off of his block on Crime Alley. Not officially his block, of course, because Danny didn’t actually enter this city to be a crime-shadow thing. But he hadn’t lost enough of Phantom the Vigilante to ignore kids getting hurt. He still hasn’t, if he’s being honest. He flew into a frantic search, tracking down the missing kids to Penguin’s bar. The Iceberg Lounge. Apparently, he wanted the kids to do some menial tasks and what not. Danny, rage flickering through his core, intangibly went in and robbed Penguin of every coin and secret the man kept.

Then? Danny blackmailed the Penguin to guarantee his kids a measure of safety from the Rogue. That began the slippery slope into whatever it is he does now. Penguin was being kept in line by Danny’s threats, the grip he had on the Rogue’s weak points, and a wonderful bit of intimidation.

——

“What, you stinking phantom? I’m stickin’ to yer rules!” Penguin snarled, forced to his knees by invisible blob ghosts.

Danny, salty and pissy from the lack of sleep he’d experienced trying to keep Penguin’s men in line as a result of Penguin trying to test where Danny’s lines were, dropped the temperature to the point where Penguin started shivering. Considering the place was already cold- the Iceberg lounge lived up to its name- it meant that Danny was standing nonchalantly in a room that was negative twenty five degree Celsius in a sweatshirt, Danny was already making good on his natural intimidation factor.

“It’s The Phantom to you, Oswald.” Danny said, in the tone of someone saying “it’s the shit, to you.”

Danny narrowed his blue eyes, letting a tiny tint of ectoplasm make his eyes glow a bit in the suddenly icing over room.

“Your people have been getting on my nerves, Oswald. Roughing up kids is so… uncultured. Are you sure you’re a Cobblepot?”

Penguin snarled, the effect of which was rendered ineffective due to his increasingly violent shivers. Plus, Danny loomed over him without even trying.

Danny, annoyed and asking himself “What Would Dan Do To Intimidate This Guy?”, gripped Penguin’s shoulder and hauled him up one handed. He dragged the mob boss over to one of the booths, avoiding the bodies he’d dropped (non-lethally) when Danny first walked in to ruin Penguin’s night. He shoved Penguin in chair he iced over, because Danny’s petty and if he saw one more bruise on his kids at Penguin’s hands, Danny was gonna go full Dan the Murderer.

He at least allowed to room to warm up before laying into Penguin, though. He stayed standing. Hey, he had the height advantage to use. He could have kept Penguin kneeling, but it was probably god the best that the mob boss got some sense of pride back.

(Danny had no idea that sitting as someone loomed over you to lecture and threaten you was even worse than kneeling. At least with kneeling, you knew where you stood. But sitting? It leaves you horribly off kilter.)

“I told you to keep your people in line. Kids are off limits, Oswald.”

“I kept them in line!”

Never let it be said that Oswald Cobblepot had a normal functioning sense of self preservation.

“Really?” Danny jabbed his pointer finger lightly on top of Penguin’s trachea and allowed his fingernails to sharpen into Phantom’s sharper digits. Penguin tried to lean away. “Then why did they start a gun fight when there were kids visible on the street? Why did I see one of my kids get hit by one of your poor excuses of a bouncer?”

“I-”

“Don’t care much for your excuses, if I’m being honest. I let you mess around with the little projects you have, without even breathing a whisper of your secrets. Sionis would love to know how you double crossed him the last deal, yeah?”

“I- I’ll keep them in line!” Penguin stuttered.

“Well, I believe in second chances,” Danny bullshitted. Ancients, how was this even working? “So I suggest you make an example of the guy that smacked Hailey around before I make an example out of you, Oswald.”

“Fine! Fine!”

——

And with that, he got access to Penguin’s resources and men and more importantly, the corrupt police officers. He made Penguin “boot out” the pedophilic ones (in a very violent way) and kept the rest.

Then? Mr. Freeze froze over the god damn pipes and Danny had to intimidate and make a deal with the Rogue so he and his increasing roster of orphans had access to warm water.

In exchange for Danny’s restorative and, more importantly, unmelting ice, Mr. Freeze was now Danny’s… on-call enforcer?? When he’s not researching cures for his frozen in a pod wife, that is.

Danny was satisfied with that. He was! But then Black Mask happened, with the man trying to engage in a battle of wits with Danny over the control of Crime Alley which, at that point, was firmly Danny’s territory.

The thing is, Danny doesn’t play nice anymore. Why bother with pointless mind games when he could just…

——

“So, you’re The Phantom.”

“And you’re Sionis.”

Black Mask twitched at the name, gloved hands pulling out his guns. Danny sat on the counter, head touching mid cabinet, and sipped out of Sionis’ favorite mug.

Because Danny broke into Black Mask’s safe house and stole his quality coffee. The man’s eyes were wary.

“How did you get in here?”

Danny shrugged. “Walked.”

Danny held the coffee out of the way as Sionis unloaded a clip into his chest and lunged forward to slap a mask onto Danny’s face. After waiting a bit, as Black Mask’s smug triumph bled into shock, Danny laughed and, using a bit of his natural strength, tossed the guy off of him. He casually took the mask off of his face.

“Jeez, I’m trying to be nice, here.”

“So, you’re a Meta.”

Danny grinned. “Eh. And you’re a cult leader with a mask fetish.”

Danny tuned out the rant about the “true face of Gotham” or whatever, already bored, and sipped at Sionis’ coffee. The ass might be a psycho, but his coffee tastes were wonderful. Danny stood up, rinsed his mug, and turned back to Black Mask.

“You’re trafficking people. Kids.” He said, cutting through Sionis’ chatter. He was sly about it too, committing violence and torture in a way that would ensure obedience and fear. Danny probably would have never caught on, Black Mask’s schemes being so ingeniously created and executed, had he not kept a hawk’s eyes on the more vulnerable members of Crime Alley’s community. And the rest of Gotham’s vulnerable communities, of course.

“My, a wonderfully obvious conclusion. Now, Phantom, I have a proposition for you.”

Sionis seemed to have gotten his bearings back. Danny tilted his head at him, looking down.

“You can work for me,” Sionis said, before opening a laptop with video feed to one of his masked men or whatever holding a knife to one of Danny’s more fearless kids. Danny snarled.

“Or, refuse, and your kid will lose a finger for every instance of your defiance.”

“I told you not to touch the kids, Sionis. I don’t allow trafficking either.”

Black Mask chuckled. “Cut off a finger, Sadness.”

“Yes, bos- ARGHHHH!”

Danny watched as Mr. Freeze froze the goon’s arms before breaking them.

“I’ve got her, Phantom.”

Danny nodded at Freeze, keeping an eye on Sionis in case the fool bolts.

“So, what are your cards now, Sionis? You’ve sure pissed me off with nothing to show for it.”

And that was the last night anyone heard from the one that was supposed to be the King of Crime.

But Gotham knew the head mounted on a pike at one of Black Mask’s hastily abandoned bases was a warning, that The Phantom was watching.

——

Then he somehow got a gaggle of more orphans that were undead zombie “Talons?”

From there, he just obtained influence over the crime bosses of Gotham. Because his Talons kept bringing him heads and blackmail and his crime alley kids and Gotham orphans kept bringing him information for food and safety?

But like, Danny never wanted anything in exchange for the safety he provided. His core could give less of a shit whether he got anything in return. But he couldn’t convince his kids of that! They’re putting themselves in danger and ugh-!

Danny checked himself once more in the mirror. Ready, he stepped out into the night to wait for the Bats at his new favorite VIP spots.

On the way, he passed Ivy and Harley, who he waved to. Pamela worked under him because he controlled Gotham’s criminal underground (which also mean the official parts of the city considering the sheer amount of corruption) and influenced them into more plant friendly methods. His dominion over Undergrowth also helped immensely.

Harley? They’re friends. He beat up and crippled her abusive ex. She gave him therapy and stopped torturing people for fun.

Danny stepped into the back door of the Iceberg Lounge. No one stopped him. No one dared to.

He settled onto a velvet couch, nodding respectfully at the server that had immediately and nervously set down his mai tai. He glanced around for cameras and wire taps, before giving up and upping his ectoplasmic output to short any recording devices out.

He sipped his drink as he waited.

“Batman.”

“Phantom.”

“Oh, good. You didn’t bring Robin,” Danny said, watching Batman tense. “Kids shouldn’t be in places like these.”

Batman stayed silent.

“Come on, sit.” Danny gestured to the couch across from him.

“This isn’t a social call. I’ll stop whatever you’re scheming-” Batman growled.

“Oh my god, you’re so dramatic. Is this where Nightwing gets it from?”

Batman snarled.

“Sit, sit.” Danny rolled his eyes.

Batman stayed stubbornly looming. Danny sighed, allowing his voice to slip into velvet danger.

“I told you to sit, Bruce Wayne.”

“You-”

“I won’t repeat myself again, Bruce. You’re testing my patience.”

Bruce sat, wary and hyper vigilant. Danny sighed, settling back in his chair.

“You’ve heard of Red Hood, yes? Don’t answer that, it was hypothetical. I know you’ve heard of him.” Danny waved a hand impatiently. “I don’t really care why he’s setting up shop in my Alley, but he’s upsetting the other crime lords. They’re asking me to interfere.”

“I don’t work for you.”

“No,” Danny acknowledged with a nod. “But I could make you, if you push it. Politeness would serve you much better right now, Bruce, seeing as I am doing you a… favor. And since I’m not shouting to the world who you are under the cowl.”

Danny gave Batman a pointed, patented, mom glare.

“… Apologies.”

“Now, you might be wondering what that favor is.” Danny watched Batman’s cowled face carefully. “I thought you should know that the Red Hood is your “Jason Todd.’”

Batman was still. And then Batman leapt at him, snarling, “How dare you-!”

Danny caught the vigilante by the throat and squeezed.

Batman’s flurry of punches- which, mildly ow, those gauntlets kind of hurt- quickly changed to clawing and maneuvers to get out of the choke hold. Danny held steady, cutting off the vigilante’s air supply until he began to go limp. He’s not Superman. Danny will bruise and kill, if he had to.

“Are you going to listen to me now?” Danny asked mildly, emulating both Black Mask’s drawl and Dan’s effortless psychosis.

Batman gave a weak nod. Danny plopped him unceremoniously back onto his couch. He sipped on his drink once more as he waited for Batman to cough some sweet air back into his lungs.

“I’m telling you to get your little birds in line before I have to go hunting, yeah? Keep your kids out of danger, Bruce, and I won’t have to step in.”

“He- how do you know..?” The growl isn’t there anymore, and Danny felt a smug sense of vindication of having smothered it out of the guy. Woah, no, that thought was too Dan and too little Danny. Danny handed him a cup of water, which Batman didn’t drink.

Danny rolled his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Drink. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it by now. And as for how I know…”

Danny held up a beat up copy of Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility, filled with Jason’s writing. He tossed it to Batman, who caught it with blank eyes.

“Water,” Danny reminded him firmly, feeling like a mother hen. Batman gulped down his water, eyes flicking between the pages of Jason’s annotated book. Ancients, Danny couldn’t believe he annotated his book. A crime lord, like that? Well, it’s not like Danny could say anything.

Batman looked up at him, a silent demand- no, plea, because he’s not in a position to make demands- for an answer.

“Broke into his safe house. You should contact your fling, Talia. Seems like she dunked him into these “Lazarus pits” and told him you replaced him with the current Robin.”

Danny could see Batman’s emotional gears hard at work and honestly, he doesn’t have time for that.

“Now, we’re done here. You owe me one for the information. I’ll collect later.” Danny grabbed the Dark Knight, who stayed oddly unresisting (shock, maybe?) , and hauled him up.

“Tell Tim Drake to eat more. He looks too skinny.” With that, Danny dragged the Dark Knight to the window and punted him out. His kids were waiting on hot chocolate night and Danny had to go shopping for quality ingredients.

——

“YOU COULDN’T HAVE TOLD ME THE BIGGEST CRIME LORD OF YOUR CITY WAS THE FUCKING HIGH KING OF THE INFINITE REALMS?!”

“Hn.”

“BLOODY HELL, DON’T YOU GRUNT AT ME, YOU BROODY BASTARD!”

Constantine let out a scream. Shite, the king who held his soul contract was a crime lord. Great.

——

The reason intelligence and convoluted schemes and genius doesn’t work against Danny is because he’s got weird standards of what he’ll tolerate and the fact is that his normal dumbassery and mother hen tendencies cancels out and coherent thoughts or plans he might have had.

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hirayalore · 4 months ago

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SIRIUS BLACK is a lot of things. he’s reckless, impulsive, handsome, charming, the epitome of trouble—yet what he refuses to be is disloyal to his friends, and that remains to be one of the few things that others can at least commend him for despite his questionable reputation.

however, his moral compass wavers a bit every single time he catches a glimpse of you, a fellow gryffindor whose laughter sounds like literal music to his ears whenever you’re near in the common room and whose smile can make him feel things that he isn’t sure he’s familiar nor okay with for that matter.

it’s mushy… fluttering… too soft for a git and well-known casanova like him who moves from girl to girl like a quaffle during quidditch.

but he can’t deny that when it comes to you, there’s an undeniable pull that he can’t seem to shake off no matter how hard he tries. it’s as if even if he makes a conscious effort of not staring at you, or tuning your voice out during class recitations, or choosing to step away when the only seat left in the gryffindor long table is next to yours—you still end up lingering in his mind after school hours, making him wonder what it would be like if he just succumbs to his desires.

which is wrong. on so many levels.

because peter pettigrew likes you, and if there’s one thing that sirius hates the most, it’s willingly betraying your friends.

so, why does it feel this bloody good to kiss you like this?

“okay, fuck—” sirius pulls away, restraining himself from deepening the kiss and pressing you harder against the wall he’s caging you in. “you—you absolute dangerous little thing—” he tries to complain, but you tug him by the collar of his shirt again, kissing him once more which sirius groans against your mouth to, his head tilting to the side to kiss you better nonetheless.

everything happened so fast.

one second the gryffindors are celebrating a quidditch win in the common room, the next he finds himself standing next to you by the fruit punch that might have been spiked by james and himself, and then by the following hour or so, he’s seeing you flirt with him and he can’t resist the urge to flirt back, not when it’s you who’s smiling at him and batting your eyelashes in a way that definitely makes him stare far too long on that pretty face of yours.

“bloody hell,” he curses, dragging his mouth away from your lips, his forehead falling on your shoulder where he takes even breaths.

he hears you breathe with him, chuckling, before the palms of your hands find his cheeks, softly cupping them and forcing him to look at you.

you both stare at each other, and sirius scans your features—your shiny eyes, the strands of hair that fan your face, the way your lips appear sinful being swollen and red like that, as if begging him to make it worse.

you smile and pull him in for one more kiss, a soft kiss that he melts into and renders him completely helpless under your touch.

when you pull away, resting your forehead against his, he whispers something that one definitely shouldn’t say after a moment like that:

“peter likes you.”

you continue to gaze at him, raising an eyebrow. “what?”

“peter likes you.”

“yeah, no—i mean,” you laugh a bit, your hands falling on his shoulders, “why are you telling this?”

“because he’s…” he swallows hard, looking pathetic or like he doesn’t want to say his next words out loud, “he’s a mate of mine. and this—this thing that just happened between us—it shouldn’t have happened.”

“oh.”

you don’t seem like you’re hurt by his words. if anything, you’re confused, and he gets why. the infamous sirius black isn’t exactly recognized for taking the high road.

“yeah, so.” he clears his throat and steps back (grudgingly, his feet protesting while he does so), unsure of what to do other than leave. “i’m sorry. i just…”

he feels foolish as he tries walking away. but he doesn’t even get to feel foolish for that long because the moment you call his name, he doesn’t even think—he just stops and turns to you once more, curious on what you have to say.

you’re still leaning against the wall, your hands behind you, and you’re looking at him in a coy manner that his inside feels goddamn weird again.

“i don’t like peter,” you say.

sirius inhales sharply.

“i like you.”

his hands form into fists at his sides, every bit of restraint crumbling as you stare at him like that.

and then with the press of your lips, you deliver the final blow.

“don’t you like me too, sirius?”

he sighs, the innocence and sweetness of your tone causing him to close his eyes for a moment, further sending him spiraling due to his dilemma of being a good friend or having you for himself.

but then he hears you call his name again, with that breathy voice that he knows he’ll replay in his head for nights to come, and throwing every last bit of moral he has in his system, he curses under his breath and dashes towards you, kissing you senseless with much more fervor and want.

your lips curve upwards against his and he groans.

“have me wrapped around your finger, have you?” he says.

your victorious laugh echoes in the dark hallway.

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

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saotoru · 2 years ago

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pussydrunk

or when you make leon kennedy pussydrunk

cw fem!reader, pussywhipped leon, dumbification, implied cum eating + oral, thigh riding, slight breeding. minors do not interact

re2 leon

leon swears you’re going to the death of him.

at least that’s how it feels when you straddle him and shallowly fuck his tip, and only his tip, slipping him in and out over and over and over. leon swears he’s going to cum from just this. he can’t take it. not when you’re so wet and hot and tight around his sensitive head that he cries, squirming and thrashing when you squeeze around him. “don’t… don’t do that! stop… you’re g-gonna make me cum-“

another roll of your hips has his entire body going taut—abs tensed, back arched, gripping handfuls of the sheets, anything to stave off the oncoming orgasm he feels burning in his tummy. it’s tempting to thrust his hips; he knows he’d slip in easily, you’re so slicked that it would only take one thrust to have him completely buried inside your perfect cunt. but he knows if he did you’d punish him—leave him like this, hard and aching and untouched. he doesn’t want to risk that.

“c-c’mon…” he tries to sound assertive but it comes out as whiny instead. “wanna be inside you, baby… n-need more of this pussy.”

“tell me it’s mine first. tell me this cock is all mine,” you say.

leon’s brows knit together in genuine confusion. what? of course you know he belongs to you, that he’s obsessed with you—pussywhipped. that’s what he is. that’s what you’ve made him to be, so fucking whipped for you that he can’t even cum on his own anymore; he needs to be inside you, buried balls deep with your pussy milking him for all he’s worth. it’s such an easy answer he should be able to say it without even thinking.

but his words choke in his throat when you take more of him, half of his cock now, actually leaving him speechless. it feels like his mind is mush, your cunt squeezing his tip so tight it’s rendered him fucking dumb. he's sure he looks stupid right now too, mouth opening and closing silently while you languidly bounce on half of him, unable to look away from the pretty shine that your cunt drools on his cock. his adam's apple bobs as he swallows thickly and tries to form a coherent thought. “i-”

dissatisfied with his lack of answer, you slip him out completely and that’s even worse. he lets out a pained whine at the loss, weakly bucking his hips in search of your heat, but you lean back on your haunches and hover just out of reach.

fuck. the hold you have on him isn’t fair. it’s not fair how all he can do is watch as you press your cunt on his thigh, can feel how hot and aching you are too with each grind of your hips, the wet drag of you a painful reminder that he can’t have you right now, not until he answers, “whose cock is this?”

“‘s yours, all for you, no one else baby, it's your cock, i'm yours, fuck, angel i need you, need you to make me-“

leon’s jaw goes slack when you sink down and take him all at once, down to the base, tip nudging against your cervix and he cums. his eyes go crossed and hips twitch with each spurt of cum that leaks out and down his balls in a creamy mess, mumbling out a stream of thank yous as you fuck the cum out of him.

he's dazed. so fucked-out that he barely notices that you've slipped him out and shifted up his body until your pussy nudges against his chin. eyes blearily blink open and leon feels himself throbbing again at the sight of your pussy hovering inches above his mouth, glossed with his milky cum. and when you say, "clean up your mess, baby," leon is all too eager to oblige.

re4 leon

you’ve ruined leon kennedy.

because every time he pushes inside you, leon swears his mind goes completely blank. no one will ever feel as good as you do, will ever make him feel this way: drunk, dizzy, mind too syrupy to process anything but the drag of him in and out, in and out of you. but even when he can barely think, leon still fucks you the way you like, driven by pure muscle memory; slow, deep thrusts, the ones where he leaves just the tip inside, only to sink back in one smooth motion, down to the base, til your clit grinds on his pelvis. the ones that make you cry out and wrap your legs around his hips like you’re trying to trap him in and never let him go.

and he doesn’t want you to, never wants to be anywhere other than inside you like this, so so deep that when he puts a hand on your tummy and pushes down, he swears he can feel himself beneath his own palm. the pressure only makes you clench around him so tightly leon grits his teeth and lets out a hiss, hips starting to grow sloppy in their thrusts. a tell-tale sign he’s close, that he’s gonna cum.

“leon,” you pant. “i want it.”

it takes him longer than it should to process what you’re saying. but the way your thighs tighten around him and the ball of your heel digs into his lower back gives him some idea of what you want.

“w-wait… baby,” he whines. “i can’t- you gotta let me go, sweetheart-“

he tries to tell you he’s close, that he should pull out, but you lean forward to lick the drool at the corner of his mouth and then you’re kissing him. tongue meeting his own and you’re everywhere, overwhelming him, the only thing he can feel and smell and think about right now is you. it’s uncoordinated, messy, teeth accidentally clicking together while leon sucks at your tongue with a desperation that has you groaning against him. he blindly fumbles for your hands before lacing his fingers through yours, clinging to you, so hopelessly and utterly consumed by his love and want for you it feels like he’s drowning. never once does he break away, mumbling into the kiss, “‘m gonna—please, baby, i-“

“cum for me.” you don’t pull away either, instead murmuring against his lips, “cum in me, leon, wan’ it so bad. want you so bad.”

you feel rather than hear the groan he lets out as he finally cums, burying himself balls deep and shooting thick, hot spurts into you. his thrusts slow as he shallowly fucks the load you begged for deep inside you, giving you all that he has and he always will because he loves you.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut

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fyuyushia · 3 months ago

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"There's a reason why people don't stay where they are. Baby, sometimes, love just ain't enough" — Sometimes love just ain't enough.

Ex-boyfriend!Sung Jinwoo who you had to break up with due to the need to be realistic.

You didn't want to leave him, really. Especially after things just started going awry for him. His dad's gone missing, his mother succumbed to eternal slumber, never to awaken for who knows how long. With him being the sole breadwinner left to keep the family from falling into poverty, he had to drop out and work as a hunter despite only being an E-rank hunter.

He's struggling enough as is, so you wanted to keep yourself by his side. However as it stands, it just wasn't possible. Your mother despises him, your father pushes you to focus on your career and forget about your fleeting highschool romance.

"You've grown past that age now," he had said to you once during dinner. "Be realistic, you can't survive clinging onto a man who can't give you anything. Even worse since he's having you help pay things off. Where is his pride? No man would let the woman he loves work hard to make ends meet."

You wanted to refute, but you knew deep down his words rang true. Bags grew under your eyes due to overwork. Even if he didn't want you to, you couldn't help but want to help ease his burdens somewhat. However, this willingness of yours had resulted in your health deteriorating to a sickening point. Your once comfortable lifestyle became a distant memory, now wrought with debts and an alarming amount of bills to pay. You hated yourself for thinking this way, but it was the cold and bitter truth.

Not everything could be resolved with love alone.

Ex Boyfriend!Jinwoo who's absolutely devastated by the news when you break it to him but still greets you off with a smile. One last time, he takes you out to a meal in some obscure diner—one you always frequented with him whenever there was something to celebrate.

Offering to pay for the meal, he takes the remaining bill on his wallet, insisting that he should pay since he was the one who insisted. Jinwoo, your beloved Jinwoo—he was always shouldering everything, insisting on spoiling you despite always struggling to make ends meet. Small trinkets, flowers, even this run down diner—he'd spend every single dime on you and his family but never for himself. It was physically painful to tell him that, hated how you had to be realistic despite wanting nothing more to stay by his side.

When the night's over he takes you home, walking you to the station. You were quiet the entire time, unable to meet him in the eye. Guilt wracked up your nerves, rendering you unable to speak. He didn't deserve this—didn't deserve someone who'd give up on him when the going got tough. He deserved someone who'd stick by his side, lending him their shoulder especially on moments like this.

"Ah, right." Jinwoo halted in his tracks, reaching for something in his pocket.

You stop as well, tilting your head up a bit to see what he was doing. He furrows his brows, feeling around in search of something. He visibly lights up when he finally finds it, making you even more curious. You raise your head, twisting your body to face him entirely.

"Here," stretching out his arm, he offers a box to you. "A little something for you..."

You blink, surprised. You look at him for assurance, he nods in turn, urging you to take it. You gingerly accept it, holding the small box in your hand. Curious about what it held within, you open it.

A gasp leaves your lips, eyes wide in surprise. You stared at your hands and then to him, lips trembling. "This is..."

It was a necklace—one you adored but didn't have the guts to buy because of the amount. Using what little money you had, you chipped in on Jinah's tuition fee, forsaking the chance to get that necklace for yourself in favor of helping Jinwoo. You thought you wouldn't ever see it again—get to wear it even—but lo and behold.

He scratches the back of his head, a bit embarrassed. "I saw you eyeing it when we went to the mall before. I wanted to give it to you since it's our 4th anniversary. Am I being presumptuous?"

You look at him, disbelief etched on your features. You know full well how pricey it is, how did he even find the money to buy this?

"Jinwoo I—you didn't have to."

"I wanted to. I know being with me is difficult, I'm poor and I always come back home injured. I owe you this much."

You bit back a scoff, baffled by just how selfless this man could get. You wanted to say something, berate him for being so stupid and going through such lengths for you. Instead, all that left you was a broken sob.

Tears ran down your cheeks, unable to hold in the guilt that ate you from in to out. Your shoulders trembled, lips quivering as you wept. "You idiot."

Your heart felt heavy, crushing your body with its weight. The waterworks quickly ran, never ending once it began.

"I"m sorry, I'm sorry. Jinwoo I—I'm sorry."

Breathless murmurs left your lips, apologizing profusely to the man who fate saw fit to make suffer.

Stupid Jinwoo, always so considerate. Offering everything to you so zealously, he was far too naive. "Do you think I'd appreciate something like this? You dummy."

Jinwoo flinches, panicking at the sight of your tears. "Hey now, why are you crying? Don't cry, you know I don't like seeing you cry."

He gives you a small smile, bringing you to his arms to give you a tight hug. You only cry harder in response, aching for this man—for this unbelievably sweet man.

"It's okay. I'm sorry too, I know it was a nightmare being with me."

"Don't say that." You bury your face against the crook of his neck. Circling your arms around him, your hands grip the fabric of his sweater. "You were a blessing."

"Thank you." He pats your back, not minding the fact that you've stained his clothes with your tears. "But there's no need to deny it. I know I haven't been the best boyfriend."

"I would've preferred it if I could give you a comfortable life as well." He pulls you closer, rubbing comforting circles. "You deserve more than this life. You deserve a man who can provide you with anything you want, not someone like me who can barely give you anything."

"Shut up." You bawl, knuckles turning white from the sheer grip you had on him.

He laughs. "I'm sorry, I wasn't able to give you that kind of life even up to the very end."

Ex boyfriend!Jinwoo who lets you go all too easily, trying to not mind the aching pain that grew in his chest. He knew it was for the better, you deserved better than him.

He sees other couples out and about on the streets, wearing smiles free of worry. He envies them, longing for a time when he can make you smile so widely like that as well. He knows it in his head. He knows it well—too well it absolutely ruins him. You deserve more than run-down diners and cheap gifts. You deserve more than having to worry about the roof on your head, deserve more than having to skip meals just to save money. You deserved someone that wasn't him. At least, the him he was now.

Ex-boyfriend!Jinwoo who, after years finally had his life back together. His mother woke up, Jinah's tuition problem was solved and he had enough money to not worry about the roof over his head now. He's grown stronger, better than the him of the past.

Ex-boyfriend!Jinwoo who you meet again after years. Your life turned for the better shortly after leaving him as well, no longer burdened by the never-ending bills you once worried about having to pay. He's standing in front of you, taller, cooler, you had a hard time reconciling him with the Jinwoo you once knew.

You peer into his eyes, noticing the innocence that left his eyes. Your heart pangs, what horrors did he have to face to end up where he is now? You worry for him, but you don't say anything, afraid of overstepping. Did you still even have the right to worry? After leaving him in the dust, leaving him to fend for himself?

"Jinwoo."

He replies with your name, bluntly calling you as well. You spend a few seconds trapped in this moment, staring into his eyes that you loved getting lost in.

"it's been a while. Seems like you've been doing great lately, good for you."

He nods, allowing a smile to break on his lips. It was bittersweet, and through it did you see a glimpse of the past, the naive him that disappeared as he had to survive for the sake of himself and his family.

"Care for a walk?" He follows up with your name, murmuring it so softly you were immediately thrown back to the past.

"Maybe a cup of coffee too while we're at it, just like the good times."

Wait hold on my creative juices aren't stopping whoa. Watch me disappear of of the face of the internet for another month again after running out of reserves.

#solo leveling x reader #solo leveling x you #sung jinwoo x you #sung jinwoo x y/n #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #manhwa x reader #ᯓᡣ𐭩fyuyu's works

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sideysvault · 4 months ago

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.𖥔˚ NEW SURROUNDINGS.𖥔˚

Cregan Stark x fem!targaryen!reader ₊ requested ₊

Tags. [sfw]; Arranged marriage, ‘cultural’ differences, misogyny, fluff, happy ending, dragonrider, weaponized fasting.

Wc. 0.8k

────────

Everyone had heard such stories. It was known that unsuspecting, kinder houses produced girls that despite aristocratic breeding, their innocence and ill preparation made them feel totally at sea in the deferential hierarchy of political marriage.

The Targaryen Princess was nothing more than a child at the horizon of puberty, with something more akin to distaste rather than horror when she first bled. And while she’d been aware of what that meant for a woman, she desperately became aware of the danger this might put her in. There were many tears in those first months and many more to come after that.

Weight simply dropped off, as well as her white hair. Plagued with the knowledge that outside the Targaryen's protective niche, she was determined to a less glorious fate than she had imagined when she had become a dragon rider.

And then came the preparations. In fact, it was her late cousin’s advice that helped her successfully avoid getting married in its entirety. At least for a few years. The technique was rather simple; If the Princess would get word that her husband to be was ill-mannered, brutish, stubborn or violent, the woman, in order to guarantee compliance, or to avoid the marriage, was to initiate a fast until a change of circumstances arrived. Not as a form of self mutilation, but as a means to stop the fertile blood from running between their legs, This, naturally, would only be successful as long as a male heir wasn’t yet produced, or if the princess isn't yet married.

She had even heard stories that certain houses even encouraged this behavior. All to guarantee that the husband was willing to listen to the whispers of his wife, assuring the will of her lineage.

This technique, of course, had severe downsides, if taken too far, the body would stop tolerating food, making the wife immobile, dead, or worse; Infertile.

However, some people denounced the practice entirely. Those who are keen to self-sacrifice for the political and economical greatness of their lineage, who saw conceiving themselves to a life of child bearing as a form of honorous martyrdom. Like her mother.

But, when her family let her know that she was to be betrothed to Cregan Stark, she knew that all of her efforts were not in vain. His reputation preceded him. Handsome, honorable and just.

She truly felt a sense of genuine relief. Neither the backwards ways of the Northerners nor their reluctance to respect people from the South could dissipate her enthusiasm. Despite her best efforts, The Reed Keep was never really a home to her.

The Princess, of course, had failed to foresee one important detail. The people of the North felt a genuine aversion towards her dragon, probably one of the few kind, loyal things to have been gifted to her by the Targaryen lineage, it had become somewhat of a family to her. While she was aware of the strong, devastating power Maegor possessed, all her soul saw whenever she interacted with it was all those magnificent flights, all of those years of training, and the rather small, innocent look her dragon had when it was young.

All they saw, nonetheless, was an extraordinary beast covered in scales and spines, the horns that framed the edges of Maegor’s face, running along the back of that skull that had never truly seemed to stop growing. It filled them with pagan horror.

From common folk, who were rendered immobile by its appalling black profile dancing through the skies, children and adult alike screaming and gasping, to the highest members of the council, whose clenched jaws and tight fists were evident despite their best efforts to hide them. -Although, she supposed their terror had something to do with its rider, a foreign invader -

Dear Gods, even her husband flinched around it. Of course, he had graciously tried to compartmentalize his fear as soon as he saw the way his wife's eye brighten when she hoped onto the riding chair and looked at the sky above them, how excited she seemed to the prospect of sharing that experience with him, how terribly tender she was with Maegor and the sweet offer she had made to the Maestres to help them map out the territory for their cartography efforts.

It hadn't taken as much time as he had thought to become pleased with her presence. While Cregan was weary of her at first, he noticed how hard she was trying to accommodate to the region's costumes, how quick her wit was, how curious she was about the world.

Once he discovered how charmed he was with her personality, he was quick to notice how beautiful she was as well. Targaryen features had always seemed too alien to him. But on his wife? He adored the lavender haze in her eyes and the moonlit hair.

The Princess always laughed when she thought about it. She had found warmth and comfort in the coldest corner of the entirety of the Seven Realms.

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Notes. I've been pretty offline for some time but here is the request! Hope everyone likes it. As usual, take care, and tell me if you wanna be added to the Cregan fanfic taglist! -Sidey x

CreganTaglist. @damnedamsy @prose-before-hoes-blog

#hotd fanfic #hotd #hotd s2 #house of the dragon #house of dragons #hotd cregan #cregan stark #cregan x you #cregan stark x reader #cregan x reader #game of thrones x reader

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cherrychilli · 1 year ago

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18+ Eddie Munson x f! reader, best friend! Eddie, friends to lovers, mentions of bodily injury, mentions of masturbation (m), oral sex(m)

Summary: Eddie hurts his dick and as his best friend, you decide to help him ease his pain.

WC: 3K

A/N: I am so tickled by the idea of Eddie wrecking his cock and balls on accident so I had to write about it and wedge in some spice as well. Enjoy!

When Eddie had told you he wasn't feeling well enough to hangout tonight he should have realized that someone like you, caring and loyal almost to a fault, would take it upon themselves to help in any way they could, showing up at his trailer a few hours later with dinner and a zipper pouch full of medicine he might need.

"Ding dong, I'm here to take care of you, Munson", you'd gleamed at him playfully.

It was no secret that he didn't take the best care of himself whenever he was under the weather. Eddie was known for skipping his meds and spending most of the day swathed in a cocoon made of blankets, emerging hours later to pad into the kitchenette where he'd nibble at cold, leftover takeout before weakly traipsing back to bed.

So, when you showed up at his front door with your arms wound around a thermos full of homemade chicken soup and a Tupperware container warm with baked salmon, he should have felt happy. He should have felt grateful for the trouble you'd gone through just to make sure that he ate well and was looked after while he was on his own but instead, all he felt was the sharp, piercing sting of guilt.

The thing was, Eddie wasn't really sick.

He wasn't running a fever like he'd claimed over the phone. He'd purposely hidden the real reason why he couldn't come over to your place and watch a movie like the two of you had planned because well, he was embarrassed.

The truth was, Eddie couldn't come hangout because his dick and balls were killing him.

It had happened last night.

He'd been spread out on the couch while Wayne was away, dressed only in a pair of boxers snug around his hips with a movie playing on TV to keep him entertained throughout the night.

As usual, a blunt was held between his plush lips for most of the evening too, a bottle of jack by his feet which he'd pick up and gulp from time to time.

The combination of alcohol and the weed served a particular purpose that night – helping to make the tooth achingly bad acting in Zombie Lake more tolerable, a movie he'd picked solely for the gratuitous nudity.

Forty minutes of naked, unsuspecting women wading in zombie infested waters later and he was more than a little strung out at that point, rendered blissfully languid while he lay slumped against the couch.

Eddie had picked that moment to reach for the whiskey with his bloodshot, half lidded eyes still plastered on the TV screen, missing twice before he managed to pick it up with light fingers.

Bringing the three quarters full bottle up to his lips for another swig, that was when the booze slipped out of his loose grip, too high to react quickly enough and catch it before it was too late.

With his thighs spread far apart, the full weight of the bottle landed directly on his crotch, the pain shooting from between his legs like daggers, enough to make him feel like the air had been kicked right out of his lungs.

The carpet and couch soaked up most of the spilled whiskey, the nearly empty bottle lying on its side on the floor while Eddie couldn't do much but cup both hands over his junk and curl into himself, trying to grunt, groan and hiss through the pain as tears brewed in his eyes.

Now, it's almost been a full 24 hours since the incident happened but his dick's still super sore from the impact. And to make matters worse his balls are blue in more ways than one.

See, Eddie's got the kind of sex drive that had him jacking off at least twice a day to keep himself sane but now thanks to his injury, he's already feeling pent up, unable to tug his swollen cock and give himself that much needed release.

So, though your outfit isn't provocative, it's still you, his best friend whom he's harbored less than platonic feelings for so of course your denim shorts and your tank top are making him want to act up, the swirling desire at the base of his stomach burning even hotter with the way you're taking care of him, showing him a level of concern no one else has before.

It isn't fair, he thinks, having to sit across from you on the couch while he tries to fight off the growing ache in his cock, tries to will his sore member soft for the sake of your friendship as well as curbing his own pain.

You're yet to notice his dilemma though, rummaging through your bag while Eddie tries not to let the scent of your body wash trigger flashes of you sitting in your bath tub with your bare tits above water, all wet and soapy with your nipples all hard and the bubbles trailing between your cleavage and–

"Shit", he hisses when a twinge of pain flares as his dick starts to twitch in his sweats.

"Everything okay, Eds?", you look up from your bag when you hear it but he's quick to wipe the grimace from his face, faking his best smile at you.

"All good. So, what are we doing next?"

He's relieved when he watches your soft smile slowly return to your face, the kind that reaches your eyes and curves your lips in that way that makes him want to reach out and cup your cheek, running his thumb over your soft skin before he tells you how pretty he thinks you are.

"How about casual sex?", you ask, all chipper.

"…what?"

In an instant Eddie's whole body alternates between flashes of frigid cold and scorching hot. Had he heard you right? were you…offering? fuck, his dick is throbbing so bad in his sweats right now.

You dive your hand back into your bag, pulling out a VHS tape and holding it out for Eddie to see.

"Figured a comedy would be for the best", you waved the tape in his gawking face, his stomach somersaulting when he reads the title. Of all the movies you could have picked, you just had to go pick the one called Casual Sex? didn't you?

"Plus, I know how much you like Lea Thompson so I figured this would be a good pick", you smiled sweetly at him, tapping a finger over the actress pictured on the cover.

Another sharp prick of guilt and another dull ache radiates in Eddie's crotch because his mind's being especially cruel to him right now, dredging up unwanted memories of the time he wore out a copy of Howard the Duck by beating his meat to Lea Thompson's scenes all day and night.

"Uh, got anything else?", he croaks, clearing his throat when you narrow your eyes at him a little suspiciously.

After a little back and forth, the two of you end up watching The Thing to Eddie's relief. Nothing there that might trigger a boner except the couple of times you squealed adorably when Kurt Russell popped up on screen, kicking your feet and hugging your knees to your chest, inadvertently making your cleavage more noticeable over the neckline of your tank top.

Eddie's able to ignore it for the most part, that was until you offered to help clean up a little once the movie was over, bending over in your denim shorts to gather the empty soda cans sitting on the table in front of the couch.

Despite the alarm bells echoing in his head, he can't seem to help it, eyes trailing up the back of your smooth, bare thighs, settling on your ass and the way he can just about make out a peek of your cheeks now that your shorts have ridden up high.

Oh shit.

Up until now you'd been pretty pert all night but when you turn around, you're instantly startled by the look on Eddie's face, all twisted up and pinched as he presses a cushion into his lap and begins to wince.

"Eddie, what's wrong?", you set the cans aside, dropping back down on to the couch beside him.

Yet another flash of pain courses through him when he catches sight of the way your breasts bounce in your tank top when you take a seat. Jesus, this wasn't going to be easy, was it?

Eddie tries to mask it but you can read the pain there easily, especially when you're so close to him now, close enough that your shoulder brushes against his bicep.

"Eddie please, you can tell me. What's wrong?"

If there was a way out of this without having to admit the truth, without having to tell you how he'd given a whole new meaning to the term whiskey dick, he couldn't seem to find it, feeling helpless as he crumbles under the weight of your concerned, round-eyed stare.

"I lied, okay? I'm not sick, I just…"

Insides twisting, he has to squeeze his eyes shut the moment he sees the confusion register on your face, the way your eyebrows draw together and your eyes narrow. It's too much for him to handle and it all comes flooding out at once.

"I dropped a bottle of whiskey on my dick last night and now the damn thing's killing me because you look so– uh. Fuck. You look so…like, this and it's just– it's a lot"

Daring to open his eyes again, he finds that your own eyes have gone understandably wide, your lips slightly parted too and he hates himself for thinking how badly he'd like to slip his fingers between them and watch you suck.

"Oh. So like, is it– are you hurt badly?", you break the silence after a few seconds of processing his word vomit, blinking up at Eddie like you're fascinated to learn more about his injured cock.

"I mean, I don't think it's anything I need to go to hospital over but yeah. Hurts a lot", he replies a little sheepishly, a side of Eddie you don't see very often because he's far and away from the shy type that's for sure.

"Like when you get hard?", you tilt your head to the side curiously.

Eddie blinks back at you when you say it, clearly taken aback by how casually you're treating this whole situation after how hard he'd tried to hide it but he manages to answer you with a slow nod.

He shivers next when suddenly you drop your gaze to the cushion he's got pressed over his aching boner. "Hm… it’s probably not going to go away anytime soon either, huh? we should do something about that", you suggest thoughtfully.

In that moment, all he can do is look at you in disbelief, sweat beading at his temple and his fingers trembling on top of the cushion. This couldn't really be happening, could it? His best friend since, forever, offering to get him off?

Eyes drifting up to his once more, you lean a little closer, voice dropping down to a whisper. "I could help you", you offer, tentatively placing your hand on Eddie's knee. "Only if you want me to."

Adams apple bobbing, it hurts Eddie when he swallows, finding his throat's turned dry and tight in the last few seconds.

"Seriously? you'd actually do that? um, are you sure?"

You bite back a laugh because the look on his face is nothing short of adorable, all wide eyed and eager like a puppy awaiting a treat.

"Well, you could sit here with your bruised dick and keep whimpering like a baby or you could let me make you feel better. What's it going to be, Eds?", you quirk up an eyebrow at him at the same time the corner of your mouth picks up into a playful smirk.

"The second one please", he answers quickly, his cheeks flooding with so much color you kind of want to pinch them and tease him about how cute he looks right now.

"Thought so."

Smiling, you pick yourself up off the couch, carefully lowering yourself to kneel between Eddie's legs when you place your hands on his knees and gently encourage him to spread them apart.

He's quick to help you when you reach for the waistband of his sweatpants next, carefully pulling both it and his boxers down to finally free his cock.

For both of you, it's surreal being in this position – Eddie with his cock out, all hard and throbbing for you and you wedged perfectly between his legs like a puzzle piece he'd been searching for all his life.

You have to take a few seconds to admire it; the way the length of him blushes red and curves up towards his belly, the way the many veins wrap around his thickness and the dark, wiry thatch of hair at his base, untrimmed and full. Just how you'd always imagined based on how wild Eddie kept the hair on his head.

Eyes trailing lower, you have to resist the urge to palm his balls to keep from possible hurting him. You want to feel the weight of them in your hand though because you can't help but think they look so full and that makes you feel sorry for Eddie and how he'd had to deal with that discomfort all day.

The thought has you pushing your lips out into a sympathetic little pout, hand reaching out to finally touch him. Gently, you use your fingers to pull back his soft foreskin, leaning forward and parting your lips to delicately kitten lick at his red, leaking tip, keeping your eyes fixed on his face for any signs of discomfort.

You're pleased to find none, chest blooming with pride as you watch complete bliss wash over Eddie's face, swirling your tongue gently and collecting beads of precum when you hear him sigh and moan with relief.

"Oh my god, that's – that's really fucking good. Please keep going", he whines unabashedly because that persistent ache that's been troubling him since last night is being soothed so fucking well by your eager tongue. At this point he doesn't even care what kind of sounds you might pull out of him, desperate to feel more of your touch.

"Don't think I'm gonna last long", he gulps when you blink up at him with your pretty lips wrapped around his tip. "Your mouth feels too good."

His words make your confidence rise like steadily billowing smoke. "You don't need to", you tell him truthfully. "I just want to make you feel better", pressing a sweet kiss to the top of his smooth head, loving the way his breath stutters when you do it and the feeling of his sticky precum coating your lips in a shiny film. Like he's marking you..

As you continue, you refrain from using your hands while you pleasure him, keeping them pressed flat against his inner thighs, using only your mouth to kiss and lick up and down his rigid shaft as your nose nudges against it softly, returning to suckle at his tip from time to time.

It's easy to tell how badly Eddie must have needed this because he's unravelling so quickly under your touch as he throws his head back against the couch, his hands balled into fists by his sides while he whimpers about how well you're doing.

He's so pretty like this with his neck bared to you but you miss his gaze, removing your swelling lips from his cock to coax him back. "Don't hold back with me, Teddie. Tell me what you need and I'll give it to you", you coo earnestly.

Lifting his cloudy head to look down at you, it's Eddie's turn to surprise you when he brings one hand up to brush back a few strands of hair that'd gotten stuck to your damp cheek, a brief moment of tenderness that makes the butterflies resting in the depths of your stomach wake and beat their wings.

"Could you go a little lower?", he asks you, chest heaving and lips slightly pink from biting.

"Want me to lick your balls?", you try to clarify.

That makes him chuckle, a sweet, airy sound that makes you feel like there's sunlight spilling through the spaces between your ribs, filling up your whole chest with pleasant warmth.

"When d'you start talking like this, huh? Y' got such a dirty mouth on you, sweetheart", he teases you lightly, pulling his hand back so you can get back to working him.

You simply smile against his shaft in reply, feigning coy and innocence while trailing kisses lower and lower until you reach the seam of his balls. Placing your warm tongue flat against it, you draw it up slowly, wetting his heated skin before pressing more kisses against his sack, giggling when the hair there starts to tickle your lips.

"Think you can handle it if I take you in my throat? I'll go slow, I promise", you speak up from between his legs.

Given how often he's pumped his cock to the very thought of you throating him, Eddie nearly trips over himself trying to find the words to answer.

"Holy shit, yes please", he manages to let out with a strained groan.

That's all you needed to hear before you're taking him into your mouth again, bobbing up and down a few times slowly, careful not to let your teeth scrape his sensitive skin before you bob deeper and let him reach the back of your throat, triggering your gag reflex and making your throat close around him nice and tight.

"Baby– baby, fuck I'm going to cum", he gasps, hips jerking, eyes squeezing shut.

And that's all the warning he can manage to give you before he's spilling down your throat, thick, creamy ropes of it which you swallow down eagerly and as best as you can.

Most of it slides down the warm, wet contracting walls of your throat but you realize just how pent-up Eddie must have been when your cheeks puff out a little with a generous amount of his cum that you couldn't manage to gulp down fast enough, pulling off of Eddie's softening cock with a mouthful of spend sitting warm on your tongue, coating the insides of your cheeks.

Sitting there on your knees while Eddie pants and recuperates, a deeply curious part of you has you swishing his cum in your mouth, savoring the distinct, tangy taste of him before you part your lips and let him look inside.

Exhausted but entirely amazed, he gawks at you and the viscous mess of spit and semen in your mouth, tempted to stick his own tongue in there and taste himself on you before you press your swollen lips back together and promptly swallow, a beaming smile breaking out on your face.

"See? told you I'd take care of you."

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things smut #eddie munson x reader

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gold-onthe-inside · 3 months ago

Text

gala

who? spencer reid (season 7) x fem!reader summary: when you need a date for a gala in DC, there's only one person you're willing to call on, and spencer has to make it known how hard it is to restrain himself around you, especially in that dress. word count: 2.4k content warnings: munch!spencer, spencer calls r ma'am and sweetheart, r wears a red silk dress, no use of y/n, 18+ minors dni a/n: can you tell i stole the gradient idea from @mggslover? thank you for enabling me tonight bby <3 check out more mayor!reader here

You hadn’t meant to call him — debating it in business class with your entourage settled in around you. The press secretary insists that it’s bad PR to go to the gala alone, held in honour of the city officials of California after some of the worst wildfires you’ve seen in history. The thought makes you uncomfortable, especially with the kinds of dresses that have been packed for you.

Still, you think, at least I’m not giving a speech. Even if the realisation that you wouldn’t be getting any airtime at the gala had made the PR team livid. And having passed the midpoint of your second term made it worse, knowing that the next target was a governorship. As much as it made your skin crawl, the team had pulled together an elaborate set-up in the wake of the fires, propping you up to give one of the best speeches of your career, rallying first responders and the neighbourhood.

The handwritten letters had been your idea, personally writing to grieving members of your community, and the people had taken to social media, making you one of the highest rated city officials in the state over your response to the fires. The fact that public rating hadn’t been the point went over everyone’s heads.

Part of you is tired of this — of the constant hovering, checking your angles, turning you into the perfect doll. It’s a halter-top dress, red silk hugging your waist, and matching heels that are gonna be murder at the end of the evening, hair swept into a chic bun to show off pearl earrings. Perfectly put-together for the camera.

You’re going over the itinerary of the evening when he knocks on your door, already ajar, and stepped inside, closing it behind him, wearing a tuxedo, the bow-tie slightly wonky — something that would give your press secretary a heart attack. His lips parted a little at the sight of you, hazel eyes tracing the outline of your dress, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, mustering the courage to meet your eyes. “Hi,” he said meekly at your apologetic smile.

“Hey,” you murmured, slightly out of breath already. The last time you’d seen him had been in your car, dropping him off at the airfield, leaving you with a lingering kiss that had you staring into space for a minute before you were sober enough to drive back. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this,” you started, having practiced what you were gonna say in the bathroom mirror.

“I’m glad you called,” he assured you, feet finally moving towards you.

“I didn’t want it to be like this,” you murmured. “Some public spectacle because ratings say I look better on someone’s arm—”

“You look amazing,” he rushed to cut you off, hand twitching with the effort of not touching you. And just like that, three words rendered you speechless, colour rising to your cheeks that had nothing to do with the make-up artist’s blush.

“Thank you,” you managed, taking an infinitesmally small step to correct his tie. His eyes never leave you, nor do you want them to, as you smoothed down the lapels of his tux.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” he confessed, it taking every ounce of effort and willpower not to just reach out and touch you.

“I’m pretty sure Maria would kill you if you did,” you murmured, looking up at him, the corner of your lip curling up in a smile.

“It’d be worth it,” he whispered, unable to help himself as he slid his hand over your waist, leaning in closer, watching your pretty eyes close with his proximity.

“We really shouldn’t,” you whispered back, and you’re gonna need a chaperone at this point to make sure there’s at least a foot between you both.

“What if I can make it so noone needs to know?” Spencer asked, nose nudging yours a smile playing on his lips. His grip was growing firmer, more confident, guiding you to the nearest surface, but loose and slow enough for you to stop him if you wanted to, and the next thing you know, you’re pressed against the writing desk. His hand cupped one side of your neck, nose trailing over your cheek as his lips found purchase on the other side, just under your ear, the faintest swipe of his tongue electrifying your skin. Your head hung limply, betraying your logic as he overwhelmed you completely. “Need to hear a yes, sweetheart,” he whispered, a slight rasp to his voice.

“Y-Yes,” you whispered and his lips drifted lower, careful to keep you as pristine as your team had left you. His hands dragged under the hem of your dress, sliding over the outside of your thighs before gently lifting you up, setting you on the desk, simultaneously using his foot to hook around the chair to bring it closer so he can sit between your knees, looking up at you.

“Christ, I missed you so much,” he whispered, dragging his callused finger tips over your thighs. “Want to kiss you so badly.” He's so careful, so gentle, but you can tell he's holding back, his breaths turning just a little ragged and his grip becoming a little possessive. Spencer's so close you can feel the warmth radiating from him, the hand on your thigh sliding up, just under the silk. Your heart's pounding so hard it's a wonder he can't feel it, and there isn't a damn thing you can do but feel as his nose brushes over your jaw.

The room is eerily silent apart from your heavy breaths, and he's looking up at you with a heady mix of desire and reverence, before his mouth drags over the inside of your knee. His other hand slides over your hip, gripping you tight, as he slowly, so slowly, plants warm, wet kisses along the soft skin of your inner thigh.

"Fuck," you breathed out, elongating the word, gripping the edge of the table to hold onto some semblance of cognitive function. But one look at Spencer between your thighs, marking up soft skin, robs you of any of that.

He can feel the heat radiating from you as his nose trails over the sensitive skin, and his tongue darts out for a split second, before his mouth is back, leaving a trail of bruises along your trembling thighs.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, and even he's surprised at the amount of want in his voice. "You're killing me here."

You want to laugh, but it's strangled in your throat. "I'm killing you?" you scoffed in quiet disbelief.

"You should see yourself right now," he murmured, glancing up at you beneath his eyelashes, but the view is too tempting, and he couldn't help but kiss his way up past your knee, hands cupping your calves. "You're so close to me, and I can't even kiss you because of that stupid, stupid makeup. I'd kiss you so hard, sweetheart. You've no idea," he voiced, punctuating random syllables with open-mouthed kisses.

Your heart jumped at the rasp in his voice, the sheer extent of his desire, and you believe him, so much that you have to shift uncomfortably, clearly needing him to relieve you. He noticed the restless movement, the way the muscles in your thighs tensed, and his mouth curled up in a faint smirk.

"You want something, sweetheart?" he murmured, his thumb stroking the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, so close to where you wanted him. He was trying to keep his voice steady, his composure, although it was quickly crumbling.

"You're being cruel," you whispered.

He chuckled, the sound low and rasped against your skin, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against your heated skin. He was close, so close, to where you needed him, but he was holding back, drawing it out. "Me? Cruel?" he echoed, his breath ghosted over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. "You're the one sitting up there, all dolled up for the cameras, driving me insane."

"Hardly on purpose!" Your protest comes out as a childish whine. "I'm just trying to do my job."

Spencer hummed, hands reaching your hips and pulling you close to the edge of the desk. “May I, ma’am?” he asked, smirking from below you, fingers already tracing the edge of your panties and you screwed up your lips, trying not to smile at the title as you nodded, tucking strands of hair behind your ear. Your hips complied to his pull, red lace coming down to your ankles, then disappearing into his pocket.

Before you can come up with something smart to say, his head dipped under the red silk, and Christ, his tongue has your knuckles whiten, fingers digging into the desk. It’s a sharp flick that has you mewling already. The tip of his tongue swirls around your clit so lightly, it’s all you can do not to gasp and push his face closer. Your hips twitch and squirm, already so sensitive from his lightest touch, only his hands keep you still with a firmness he never had before.

“Spencer,” is all you manage to breathe out, and his voice is too muffled. You never get to ask him to repeat, the flat of his tongue parting your folds, running over your centre and wrapped his lips around your clit like he was making out with your cunt. It was all you could do to stop yourself from pulling at his hair, breathy gasps turning into soft whines as he played around with a rhythm, finding one that worked for you, and going crazy with it.

Your thighs threatened to close in on him, only for firm, vein-riddled hands to push them wide. Your grip on the table gives out as he coaxes you to your peak, landing on your elbows with a quiet thud, a fuzzy sting that rivals the fuzziness in your head. Your hips attempt to jerk closer to him, and his arms have to wrap around your thighs to keep you still, making your frustration so much worse, your sheer helplessness to his onslaught making you needier. “Please,” you gasped, needing release. How did his jaw not hurt at this point?

His lips wrapped around your clit, nose rubbing against it, tongue sliding lower, lapping against your entrance. You’re almost sobbing when he eases a finger into your cunt, curling deep, crooking and finding a slow but hard rhythm that has you clenching around him — almost desperate. You’re barely holding on, legs shaking around him. “Please, Spence, I’m–“ but you can’t form any more words, so close, just teetering at the edge, his fingers still going and his mouth still going and it’s just too much. “Please, please,” you whine out, desperate for relief, trying so hard not to pull on his hair.

His fingers curled, seeking that one spot, the one that had you trembling against him. Your voice rose in pitch, nearly cracking, words turning back into mewls and moans. Your hips jerked desperately, seeking more that he was just barely keeping from you, and your eyes fluttered shut, the heat in your core growing impossibly tight, threatening to spill over. He didn't show any signs of letting up, the relentless rhythm he had set up driving you to the brink. "Please, Spence, I’m so close," you begged, and he could hear the tension in your voice, the desperation, the need that mirrored his own as his tongue flicking over your clit with perfect pressure.

You could feel yourself trembling on the edge of your orgasm, and he knew exactly what you needed. "Please," you gasped again, and he pressed against that spot in response, feeling your body tense up even more. He could feel your walls fluttering around his fingers, before relaxing entirely, your body going boneless as relief warms your entire body.

Spencer takes a breath before lapping your cunt clean, at a slow and leisured pace, sliding his fingers out. Silk fell away from his face, draping your lap as he pulled away, watching you catch your breath. The air was heavy with the smell of arousal, the taste of you still on his lips and the fingers that he licked clean. Your breathing slowly returned to normal, the tension fading from your body. He couldn't help but admire the sight of you, completely undone, your figure draped in red silk, the usually composed and articulate city official now utterly wrecked. It was a sight he could easily get used to.

“You… I don’t— how are you so good at that?” you asked, breathlessly, looking at him in awe as he stood between your thighs.

“With a lot of self-restraint,” he admitted, making you huff, shaking your head. You moved your hands to straighten his bow-tie, well aware of your proximity to him, your hands smoothing down the lapels of his tuxedo, and the door to your room opened up.

“Car’s waiting for you downstairs, Madam Mayor,” your assistant reported, her clear gaze not missing the proximity between you and Spencer and barely restraining a smirk. “Dr Reid,” she added in acknowledgement, Spencer raising a hand to greet her with a sheepish smile and then the door closes, leaving you both alone for a moment.

You let out a sigh, slipping off the table, smoothing down your dress as Spencer watched you. His gaze never left you as you composed yourself, straightening your dress and fixing your hair, transforming back into the poised city official in a matter off seconds. The transition was almost seamless, but he couldn't help noticing the slight redness on your cheeks, the remnants of your earlier activities.

Spencer's heart, after spending the last few moments going at a pace that would've concerned a cardiologist, finally began to settle. He had been reckless, and perhaps a little selfish. But as he watched you, he couldn't bring himself to regret a thing. “This is gonna be a long night,” you murmured under your breath, taking his arm. He couldn’t help but agree.

comments and reblogs always appreciated xoxo

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #my fics #spencer reid x mayor!reader #mayor!reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine

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