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rememberwren · 1 month

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Easy breezy beautiful premature ejaculation. Hypersexual!Simon/fem!reader. Discussion of edging. Cumming untouched.

“If we do this,” he says around his cigarette, “then we do it my way.”

“I’ve never done this before,” you admit cautiously, turning your hands palm up as if to show you have no weapons, no tricks up your sleeve. I’m innocuous, your posture says. His own says: I’m still deciding, with his tense shoulders and narrowed eyes. “This weird, femdom thing. So I appreciate your guidance. Because I know fuck all—“

“You’re no femdom—Jesus, fuck, I can’t talk about it anymore,” he grits out. He takes a step back and away, creating distance, exhaling a plume of smoke that makes him look strangely ethereal in the evening light. Against your will, your eyes flicker down to just below his belt buckle and oh god. He’s hard.

“Just from talking about it?”

The look he gives you could melt ice. It could sublimate it. You cringe, knowing you were in the wrong, wishing you could reach out and snatch the words right out of the air. He’s trusting you with this. The last thing he needs is to feel like a joke.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I shouldn’t have—you’re not a, a science experiment or something—“

“Wouldn’t mind that so much. Might figure out what the fuck’s wrong with me. Less interested in being treated like I’m part of a circus troupe,” he grumbles. He drops the cigarette and grinds it to ash beneath his boot. He asks: “Inside?”

Gingerly, so gingerly, he undoes the button of his jeans and unzips them. He holds his breath as he works the denim down his thick thighs. God, is he built: muscles made for more than just show. His history is inscribed on his body in its strength and in its scars, scars of white and pale pinks that darken to purple in the lamplight. He’s wearing boxer briefs, straining at the front from his erection, and they are soaked. You’re surprised that he hasn’t soaked straight through to his jeans.

“Don’t look,” he grits out through his teeth. You look away, unsure where to cast your eyes to, and settle for shutting them. He explains: “Can’t take the way you’re looking at me.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, feeling your face flush hot.

“Just—let me—” you hear the sound of fabric rustling. He kicks off his jeans—you can tell by the soft sound of them landing against the floor off the side of the bed. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck.”

“What’s wrong?” you ask, eyes squeezed shut, hands clenching in your lap.

“Nothing just—fuck. No way I’m going to last.” He sounds bitterly disappointed.

“That’s the point of this, right? To get better at lasting?”

He sighs, a long-suffering sound, like this discussion is well worn and frustrating to him. Something in you shrivels, and it takes your body with it as best as it can, sending your shoulders hunching inwards, your head ducking down. You pick at one of your nails by feel alone, eyes still closed, and nearly jump when his fingers brush your knee.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “You’re right. That’s what this is for. Might as well get used to embarrassing myself.”

“That’s the spirit."

He snorts. More fabric rustles, and at length he says: “Alright. You can look. Just…you can look.”

You open your eyes hesitantly. His cock is right there—and Jesus. It makes sense, proportionally, but it is frightening in a very real sense. You’re already doing the math, measuring in your head and comparing to your past precedents. Ghost would have them all beat, quite comfortably, in length and girth. He’s cut, which surprises you, but isn’t a turnoff. He keeps himself landscaped nicely, which you appreciate, even if it isn’t necessary.

He is flushed a ruddy pink, the head darker than the rest. As you stare, it jerks, a bead of precum welling at the tip. Suddenly one of his large, scarred hands reaches down and grips the base of his cock in a painful hold, hissing in a breath through his teeth.

“Can’t look at me like that,” he admonishes again.

“Like what?” you ask, a little defensive. You’re just looking! You have to look, right?

“Like you want it,” he mutters.

God, does he really have no idea? No inkling of how badly you want to sit on that monster in his hands? No notion of how wet you’ve been since your conversation in the parking lot? Sure you aren't like him, not about to spring off if the breeze was just right, but you are anything but unaffected. Still, it seems like the wrong moment to educate him on your attraction to him and his cock, so you do your best to morph your expression into one of unimpressed ambivalence and hoped it helps.

“I’m ready when you are,” you say, interrupting his deep breathing exercises. He nods but doesn’t give you the go-ahead, not for another minute or two, until his chest stops heaving and he can remove his hand from the vice grip he has around his balls. His cock has a near purple tinge, and you wonder if maybe he should have rubbed one out in the bathroom beforehand just to take the edge off. Oh well, it’s a thought for next time.

“Go ahead,” he says, like he’s giving you permission to pull the trigger on him during a game of Russian Roulette.

You reach out—his cock twitches, a nice warm welcome if you’ve ever seen one, but you hesitate. Your hand is dry. Should you ask for lube? How does he usually jerk off? Dry? You have a feeling he doesn’t mind the discomfort; he seems like he has a self-destructive streak a mile wide. His eyes are fixed at a point on the ceiling, his chest unmoving as he holds his breath. You decide that some sort of lubrication is better than none—so you lick a broad stripe up your palm.

“Fuck,” he whispers, a little punched-out sound. Sometime between opening your mouth and licking your palm, his eyes had transferred from the ceiling to your face, to the flash of your tongue and your wet palm. His eyes widen, irises swallowed up by the pupils, and he says again, more urgently: “Oh fuck.”

He reaches down to grip the base of his cock again, but it is too late: he cums. His abs are thrown into sharp relief as he tenses with each pulse, cock jerking against his brutal grip. He doesn’t even jerk himself off—just ruins it as you stare with your mouth open and your hand wet, watching him splatter seed against the coarse line of hair that runs from his belly button to his cock all because he watched you lick your hand.

“Fuuuuuuck,” he groans, throwing one arm across his eyes, breathing heavily. His mouth is flushed a pretty red, like he has been kissing. His hand clenches into a fist as he says: “I’m sorry. I tried not to.”

“It’s okay,” you say, your nearly brain blue-screening from how turned on you are. You lower your hand and wipe it dry on your leggings. “That’s what this practice is for—so you don’t do it when it really counts. We can try again tomorrow or something.”

He snorts. “Tomorrow? Give me five fucking minutes.”

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader

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eddiemunsons-missingnipple · 1 year

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Next caller.

《 Pairings: College!Eddie Munson x shyfem!reader

《 Summary: Eddie hosts a late night radio show for his college campus, where he discusses various different topics. He's mostly known for his DnD and sex talk segments. You've been a long-time listener who works up the courage to finally call in for some help.

《 Warnings: Smut, 90s!Eddie, he's around 24 here. Phone sex, dirty talk, voyeurism, masturbation (female), sex toys. Eddie refers to the reader as sweetheart, good girl, and Miss caller. I didn't want to use y/n, so he's given you some pet names instead.

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: Please reblog, comment, and like to show support. Not proofread. Please ignore mistakes.

Mini series masterlist

18+ no minors

Year 1990

Eddie was in his final semester of college with a very popular radio show. He became pretty much well-known on campus overnight. His radio show is known as "The Munson Experience," and it slowly became an overnight hit.

Fans of DnD tuned in for his hour of lore telling and tips on how to build up your fantasy world. Metal heads tuned in for his controversial opinions on bands. Others listened specifically for his special segments in regard to the topic of sex. Boyfriends called for advice on dating and different ways to get their girls off. Girlfriends called him to give thank you's and ask what they could do to repay the favor. He would have callers tell him their most outrageous stories.

Eddies show became popular very fast after he introduced his sex segment. He even became some what of celebrity at your college. He never used a different name or tried to use any type of anonymity. He didn't care if people knew him for his show or even liked him for it.

He was unapologetically himself at all times. You seen him around campus walking from one lecture to the next. Eddie would always wear an old band tee with the sleeves cut off, turning into a muscle tank. He liked showing off his tattoos. One arm fully covered in dark ink all the way down to the top of his hand. The other arm had a few tattoos scattered here and there. His hair was almost past his shoulders, and he had a small nose ring in his left nostril.

You'd always watch from afar as people would approach him to make small talk. The guys rushed over to invite him to their house parties and girls, giving out their personal phone numbers. It was no secret that Eddie knew how to please women. You heard the stories, and judging by his advice on his show, you believed them. He would even share his own personal hook up stories sometimes during the segment.

You and Eddie only ever had one class last semester together, but he never even made a single glance your way. You never approached him either, opting to just admire from distance and make your way to class. Every evening, you did, however, turn on the radio to listen to his show. Truthfully, you only listened to hear his voice. You had no idea what he was rambling on about most of the time, but you didn't care. His barritone voice was like warm honey to your ears. You found comfort in listening to him every night before bed. It was strange how the moment his show started, your stress of the day just melted away.

One day, you were going to call him for help about something you had never told anymore before. You already felt like you could trust him with this sort of thing. You were determined to speak to him even if you had to confess never having had an orgasm before. You don't know why you're putting so much trust into him, but you have.

You were desperate for his help and attention if you're going to be honest. You would lay in bed daydreaming about being in those other girls' shoes when he described what he did to them. How he would feel between your legs. Having his weight on top of you as you came undone beneath him.

Maybe you'll call in to his show tomorrow? What harm could it do? No one would even know it was you on the other line. You didn't have many friends on campus, so it's not like anyone would make the distinction so quickly. This would all be completely anonymous.

You just needed to speak with him. You never could work up the courage to talk to him in real life. You've always been too shy and easily intimidated. Eddie was a nice guy from what you could tell. There was nothing to be intimidated by at all. You would always get butterflies in your stomach when you saw him around. He made your stomach do flips when he flashed a smile, revealing the dimples in his cheeks. You could never work up the courage to ever approach him, so you just settle for your fantasies instead.

A few weeks went by, and you still haven't called. Not that you didn't try. You would call and hang up when you heard what you assumed was an assistant answer the phone. The moment you heard, "Thank you for calling in to the munson." You slammed the phone on the receiver. Not even letting the poor guy finish his sentence. This situation was driving you crazy you were convinced he could and would help with your problem. You assured yourself he was the only one who could because you didn't want anyone else to.

You mope around your shared home with your roommate, Monica. She could tell something was bothering you but never pressed on the issue. You two weren't the closest, but there was a mutual respect and love for one another. She'd try to get you to go out to parties with her but knew not to pressure you. The moment she heard a no, she left it at that, shrugging her shoulders and leaving you be.

"I can tell something is bugging you." she asked for the millionth time that week.

You sigh. "Im fine, I swear -- just little stressed." You put on a fake smile heading back to your room, leaving her to continue getting ready her date. Hoping she won't ask you again, you locked yourself away for the night. There was a light knock at your door, and you heard your roommates muffled voice from the other side. "I'll be back late. Get some sleep, okay?"

You ignore her as she leaves for the evening. Flopping yourself back against your pillows, you turned to look at your phone. Then, glance at your clock, it read 10:45 pm. It's almost time for his last segment of the night. Should you call? Would tonight be the night? You rolled over on your side, staring between the clock and your phone.

You sat up quickly, snatching the phone and dialing the numbers. Your heart already pumping with adrenaline when you hear the dial tone. A lump in your throat builds from nerves and excitement. Tonight was the night, and you were not going to chicken out this time. You hear the distinct voice on the other end of the call. "Thank you for calling into the munson experience. What are you calling in for."

You struggle to find your voice for a moment. The man on the other end is waiting for you to respond, and he almost hangs up, thinking it's another crank call. "I'm calling to speak to Eddie." You're voice barely even a whisper that you needed to repeat yourself three times. Eventually, they put you on hold while they got ready for his final segment. You exhale a deep breath you didn't even know you were holding in.

The sound of the music they put you on hold to cut off and your stomach drops. This was it you were finally going to do it. Not only were you going to speak to him, but you were also about to confess something that always made you feel embarrassed. You know it's nothing to be ashamed about truly. Judging by the countless women who called in with a similar problem looking for advice.

The music playing on the radio fades, and you hear him greet you."Hi, thank you for calling in. How can I be of assistance?"

You struggled to find your voice yet again.

"Hello? C'mon, don't be shy. This is a judgment free zone here." He leaned forward in his chair, getting closer to the microphone.

"Umm, hi, I was calling for something I think only you can help me with." You're clutching the phone in a tight grip against your ear. Your hands are shaking, and you hope no one can recognize you.

He leans back in his rolling chair. "And who am I speaking with."

"I....I'd rather not give you my name." You stammered. Your anxiety is building up, and you are so close to hanging up.

"That's okay. We'll keep this anonymous." He replied.

His brows raise for a moment as he listened to you talk. You sounded a little too familiar to him, and he has a sneaking suspension he might know who you are. He won't out you just in case he might be wrong and also respecting your wishes to remain anonymous.

You take a deep breath. "Well, you see, I've never...I don't know how to say this."

"You never what?" Have sex or something? " He asked, but his voice showed no emotions.

"No...I mean I'm not a virgin or anything like that. I just....I've had boyfriends, and anytime we did stuff, I never-- finished." You confessed to him.

His eyes widened for a moment, and he felt a pain of sadness in his heart. He could tell you were scared to reveal something so personal like that. Especially to him, a total stranger on a live radio show with hundreds of listeners. "You never had an orgasm before. Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

Pinching the bridge of your nose." Yes, that's what I'm telling you."

"Huh, okay, have you tried getting yourself off, at least?" He questioned, spinning around in his chair. His assistant, the other side of the room, listened Intently to the conversation.

"Well you see that's my problem anytime I tried to make myself cum I just kinda give up. I get so close and right when I'm there... I stop." You blurt out as you feel a weight being lifted from your shoulders.

He ponders for a moment before responding. "And how can I help you with this exactly? "

"Well, I was hoping you could guide me through it." Your face scrunching up as the words left your mouth. You knew this was a dumb idea from the start. He wasn't going to help you, and any moment now, you're waiting to hear him laugh at how ridiculous this is. There's a long, almost uncomfortable silence.

Eddie, on the other side of the line in his booth, is in utter disbelief. Sure, he definitely wants to guide you through that experience. What guy wouldn't? He just truly can not believe this was happening live on HIS show. His assistant kept mouthing no to him, knowing this could end badly. Eddie doesn't care he's doing it. He picks up his old bandana that's been discarded on the table and wipes sweat from his forehead. He nods back at the assistant, signaling hes going along with it whether people like it or not.

Picking up his yoyo, he props his feet up on the table in front of him. "You want me to help you cum?" Is that correct?"

"Yes, that's what I want. I need you to help me any way you can." You're sounding more desperate than intended.

"Okay, well, miss caller. I think im the perfect guy for the job." He smiles tossing the yoyo back and forth to the palm of his hand.

You smile as the anxiety you felt early slowly fades away.

"What are we using tonight, sweetheart? Fingers or toys?" He asked tossing his yoyo aside.

"Umm, I have a toy I can use." You closed your eyes tight, answering his question.

"Do you want me to talk dirty to you while we do this, sweetheart? " He got his voice lower in the mic, causing your breath to hitch.

'Uhh, yes... I'd like that a lot, actually." You bite your lower lip, anticipating what he's planning.

A grin plastered on his face while his mouth gets unbelievably closer to the mic. His voice felt so close to your ear. Your skin prickles with goosebumps. "Are you laying back, sweetheart?"

"....uhh,yes, I'm laying in bed." Your voice shakey on the other end.

"Good girl, get nice and comfortable for me."

You involuntarily squeeze your thighs together when you hear him calling you a "good girl." You turn off your bedside light and let the warm glow from your candles set the mood.

"What are you wearing?" He asked, licking his lips.

"A shirt and panties." You replied, looking down at yourself.

"Yeah? wanna take those panties off for me." He continued on making his voice low and deep. Similar to his DM voice, he would put on during his DnD segments. A shiver runs down your spine, and you can feel yourself getting wetter. There is a small wet patch already forming on the thin lace material of your panties.

You moved and carefully dragged the delicate lace down your legs, tossing them across your room. "They're off."

"That's a good girl." He praised.

You lay there patiently waiting for him to continue.

"Can you be my good girl and grab that little toy you told me about?" He asked you, feeling himself growing hard as well. He still can't believe he's doing this but doesn't want to stop. "Do you have it?"

Reaching over to your bedside table, you open the drawer, grabbing the small vibrator.

"I got it." You whisper into the phone.

He readjusts in his seat, "Turn it on for me."

You do as he says and turn the small vibrator onto the lowest setting. That ball of nerves in the pit of your stomach creeps back in. You want to do this, but the thought of hundreds of people listening to you right makes you second guess the decision.

"On second thought, maybe this was a bad idea." You admit trying to fight back tears as a lump in your throat forms.

"No, no hey its okay. What's wrong?" He asked, sounding concerned.

"I--i just remembered there are people listening." You stumble over your words as you try not to cry. Feeling a little ridiculous that you're even going through with this.

He frowns to himself. " Listen, it's just me, and you okay? If you don't want to do this, I understand you can always hang up."

"Yes, please." You spoke sofly.

"NO!--I want to do this." You blurt out. Once again, there is a long pause as he's thinking of the right things to say. Eddie doesn't want to make you feel pressured. He wants this to be an enjoyable moment. "Shall we continue?"

"That's my good girl." He cooed.

You whimper lowly into the phone, but it doesn't go unnoticeable. He already knows how to get you riled up, and he hasn't even gotten started yet. "You like that, don't you?"

"You like it when I call you a good girl?" He teased.

You gulped into the phone." Yeah."

His assistant in the next room is chewing on his nails out of pure terror. He's never seen this happen before on a live radio show, and he just knows what a shit storm it could cause. Eddie doesn't seem to mind at all his focus and attention were strictly on you.

"I want you grab that toy and put it to your clit. Can you do that for me?" He gets his voice low again. Your nipples harden under the thin material of your shirt. You bring the vibrator to your sensitive bud and gasp when you feel the vibrations.

"Okay, sweetheart, now think of me between those thighs. Think of my lips wrapped around your clit sucking so so softly. Imagine my face buried between your legs.." He's breathing heavier into the mic. His cock getting painfully hard in his jeans "Are you thinking about it?"

"Mmm, y--yes I'm...I'm imagining you there." You gasp and moan in the phone.

"I know you must be soaked right now. I wish I was there with you, spreading you open with my tongue. I bet you taste so fucking good" He kept going his voice getting more seductive in your ear.

"Is this your first time thinking of me like this?"

A sly grin creeps up on his face as he probably already knows the answer.

"I bet you have. I'm sure you've seen me around our campus. You've probably wondered what it would be like having my thick cock deep inside you. I would make you cum so fucking hard." He's getting really into it now, and his heart races with excitement.

You sink further into your bed as the vibrator continues working on your clit. Your hips bucking up as you writhe on your blanks, taking in every word he spoke. The phone keeps falling from your ear the more relaxed you become. Your mind in a fog while you listen to him say the dirtiest things. No one has ever spoken to you like this before, not even your ex-boyfriends. "Hey, you there?"

You gasp, "Yes, I'm here."

"Great. I need you to try and keep the phone to your ear as best you can for this part. Now with your other hand, use your fingers to fuck yourself but keep that vibrator where it is, got it?" He sounded much more serious this time.

You kept the vibrator right where it was at while you gently brought two fingers to your entrance. You slide them between your wet folds, getting them covered in your juices. You bite your lower lip hard as you teased around your dripping pussy. You hear him groan in the other end of the phone and wonder if he's enjoying this just as much as you are. You gently dip your two fingers inside you, getting them as deep as they possibly could go. "Ooh! Fuck." You moaned in his ear.

"Yeah, that's it pretend your fingers are my cock sweetheart." His let out a shakey breath.

"I bet your so fucking tight. Just thinking about your tight pussy taking my cock is making me so hard." He's getting himself riled up.

He rubbs the back of his neck, trying to stay focused. "I'd have to take my time with you first. Working you open until you're ready to take all of me."

"Is it big?" You ask him meekly, panting into the phone while your fingers stretch you open.

"Fuck baby--id have you feeling so full." He groaned in the mic, struggling to keep himself composed. Clenching his jaw tight as he opens and closes his fists.

Eddies tries his best to resist rubbing himself over his jeans as he listened to you. He has to remember this isn't about him right now it's all about you. His sole purpose of the night is making you cum and he's determined you will.

Your fingers continue pumping in and out at a vigorous pace. The vibrator placed carefully on your sore bud while you try your best not to drop the phone again. "I can hear your dripping pussy from here."

His words turn you on even more, making you grow wetter for him. Your body is covered in beads of sweat as your face grows hot. Your pussy making a loud schlick noise with every pump of your fingers.

"Feel good?" He asked you with amusement etched in his tone.

"Yes, it feels so good." You let out weak pathetic response. "Oh my god!" You squealed into the phone. Desperately trying to keep it balanced between your head and shoulder. You're a moaning, whimpering mess, and you don't care how loud you're being. You've never felt like this before it's terrifying and thrilling all at the same time.

He laughs, rubbing his chin letting out a quiet grunt before speaking again, "You sound so sexy when you make those little noises."

His listeners are having a hard time distinguishing if he's getting himself off in the process or if he's just playing it up for the moment. They're used to his crazy antics, but this was something entirely new. They were all shocked and impressed they were getting to witness this.

Your fingers pumping harder as you curve them upwards to rub against that sweet spot on your walls. Your thighs shake as you arch your back off the bed. You imagined they were his cock instead pounding in and out of your pussy like this. You feel a tightness in your core building up, and you know you're getting close.

"You're getting close, aren't you?" He whispered seductively.

"S'close." You whined.

"That's it be a good girl and cum." Cum all over my cock." He groaned.

The vibrator on your clit helping to bring you closer to your release. You spread your legs them even further apart. You're moaning louder into the phone. You can't even hear Eddie's voice anymore. Fucking yourself with your fingers is becoming difficult the closer you are to your release. Your walls clenching up tightly around them, and your pulse quickening.

You plunge them in and out of your pussy faster. That coil in your tummy is getting tighter. The feeling is all too familiar, and you start to get scared. What if you can't get past this part? You're doubting yourself again. You let out a deep breath and relax your mind.

Your legs shut involuntarily, and the vibrator falls from between your thighs. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your first ever orgasm rips through your body with so much intensity. Your vision goes black, and you stop breathing for a second. The phone lays abandoned next to your head, having dropped it long ago. You can hear Eddie's muffled voice calling out for you.

Tears begin pouring from the corners of your eyes. You couldn't help getting emotional after all of that. Not only was this your first time ever being able to have an orgasm, but the entirety of the situation was starting to set in. You felt amazing, and Eddie did such a great job helping you along the way. There were just some insecurities starting to creep in that you wanted to keep away. He's the only man that's ever made you feel like this, and you hope maybe one day you'd find the courage to meet him in person.

Everything went dead silent for a few minutes except for a few sniffles you hope no one else could hear. Your body glistening with sweat and your thighs sticky with your juices. You're still coming down from your high as your tears slowly fade away.

"You there, sweetheart? You heard him ask from a short distance.

With shakey hands, you pick up the phone to your ear. "Mmhmm...I'm still here." Your voice coming out small.

"You did so good for me." He praised you one last time. "It's okay. I'm right here He reassured.

"How was it?" He asked, hoping you had a good time.

"It was overwhelming but amazing." You smile weakly into the phone. You can't see him, but he's smiling back.

"Yea knew I'd be perfect for the job. Haven't had one complaint yet." His cockiness coming back almost immediately. Just as he was about to reach for a pack of cigarettes, he noticed he's way over his scheduled time. His eyes widened in a panic as he locked eyes with the clock above him.

His assistant busts through the door, signaling that the show is now officially over for the night. Eddie startles for a moment before jumping out of his chair and yanks the mic up to his mouth to close out the rest of the segment.

He slams his hands down on the table enthusiastically. "GOOD!..GREAT!-- and that's it for tonight's show everybody thank you all for listening. Thank you to our lovely caller, and if you guys wanna see my band play, come visit us at The Hideout every Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday nights. Especially you miss caller you can come see me anytime you like."

You listened to him give thanks to everyone when the song called "about a girl" from some band named Nirvana fades away his outro. You flopped back down on your bed. Your body is way too weak to even roll over your legs feeling like jello.

Laying there resisting the urge to fall asleep, wanting to savor this special moment as long as you could. You thought about what he said before hanging up. You were definitely wanted to see him soon. You had to after this night. You needed to finally meet him and maybe repay the favor.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #90s!eddie #college!eddie #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut

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obbystars · 2 months

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When Light Fades

Synopsis: To strive for immortality has severe consequences.

Notes: Sebastian Solace x GN!Reader / Reader is a subject for Urbanshade / Spoilers for Sebastian’s backstory / Experimental deaths + limbs being cut off / Takes place before the events of Pressure and leads up to it / Hadal Blacksite Lockdown event (Gunfire + death) / Cursing

Credits: dividers by @cafekitsune

(Saw a few fics of a reader who was an experiment like Sebastian here, so I decided to cook up my own. Well- This was just gonna be an idea, but as I was making this, the update came out and I felt more inspired and decided to try my hand at how the lockdown went…kinda. I’m actually really proud of this one.)

A new subject had arrived a few days ago. They moved him right next to your cell, and he looked to be around your age. You spotted the number on his shirt. “Z-13.” He mostly minded his own business and you did as well, but it’s been so long since you’ve spoken to someone else. So finally, you tapped on the window that separated you to get his attention.

At first, he wasn’t interested in talking to you but he soon started to come around and (try to) listen to you. The window muffled your voice, and he couldn’t catch your name. You couldn’t either, so in your head, you only called him Z-13. Maybe he did the same with your own number.

It was strange. Despite the complications of communicating to each other properly, sitting by the window with him was oddly comforting. You wondered if he felt the same as he leaned on the window. To him, you were always smiling when your eyes met. It was like you weren’t bothered by the situation at all, or maybe it was a mask to hide your fear. Maybe it was meant to comfort him as you were here before him. Maybe you knew what was coming, and you wanted to tell him to not be afraid.

Z-13 sometimes spotted you in the corner of your cell with a saddened look on your face. Sometimes it looked like you were about to cry. He wondered what happened that led you here. Was it the same reason as him? Were you robbed of your future just like he was?

Eventually, you were taken out of your cell and Z-13 watched you leave but not without giving him a smile and waving to him. He slowly lifted up his hand and slightly waved as you left your cell with a few people in white lab coats who were accompanied by two guards.

You were gone for a few hours and Z-13 had almost fallen asleep until he heard a gentle knock. You still had that same smile as you looked at him. For a moment, he smiled too.

Two days after you were placed back into your cell, you began to lose your vision. It was getting dark and blurry. You couldn’t see Z-13’s face anymore. By the seventh day, your vision had completely faded. Despite this, you somehow knew when the lights were on and when they were off. It wasn’t because of the faint click you could hear sometimes, you just knew. You can even sense a few people nearby. Z-13 was among one of them and was the closest, meanwhile the others were a bit further away. You can sense one roaming the halls as well.

You can even feel Z-13’s gaze on you. You wondered if he gradually noticed your change.

You had a few more tests the week after, and by the third week, you lost all feeling in your arms and legs. You can’t move them, you can’t feel if someone had touched them, nothing. The researchers had to drag you up into a wheelchair every time they needed you for another test. They even had to feed you as you couldn’t do it yourself.

You can feel eyes on you once again. Was it Z-13 looking at you? You hear faint banging and a faint voice. He must’ve noticed how you haven’t moved at all for a few hours and was trying to get your attention. You turned your head towards the general direction of the noise, and the banging stopped. He says something, but you don’t quite understand. You wish you can hear him more clearly.

You sense a few people approaching and hear your cell door open. Their footsteps get louder and they discuss something amongst themselves. One of them is really close to you.

“Can you feel me here?” They would ask.

You shook your head.

“How about here?”

No.

“Here?”

Nothing.

You only feel cold. You feel so cold. Were you dying? Is this what death feels like?

The person stands up and steps away. You hear them exchange a few words. Another one approaches you.

“Can you see us?”

No. You suddenly hear a click.

“Can you see this light?”

You nodded. Nothing else was said as you hear them leave, though they remained outside your cell for a while before walking away. You faintly hear Z-13 call out your number, at least you think he did.

…What was your number again? Why can’t you remember…

One day, Z-13 watched them take your body and leave without much discussion. A few hours went by. Hours turned into days, then into weeks, then into months. You never returned. The room was left empty and the lights inside the cell had turned off. Soon enough, it was his turn. Seeing only a glimpse of what you had to endure, he was afraid. He didn’t know if you were in pain as you never showed it, but he saw how the light in your eyes faded.

Z-13 suffered the effects of the experiments done to him alone.

Ten long years had passed since then. Z-13’s body had reformed into a mix of an anglerfish, a blue whale, great white shark, sea snake, silver spinyfin, mantis shrimp, and an extra unknown creature. He got what Urbanshade wanted, but he was a deemed a failure because of what he became. He was able to breathe underwater just like they wanted, but he was just some thing, some monster they created. He could barely look at his own reflection.

He’d overhear a guardsman talking and an idea suddenly comes to him. Once he was in the place he needed to be, he did not hesitate to act on it. Ten long, torturous years… Maybe he could finally be free if all things go according to plan.

He pretended to fall under the effects of the anesthesia and remained still for a while until the time was right. He was left unguarded. He wakes up and cautiously checks around, spotting only one guardsman.

Swift, yet still painful. It was the least they deserved. He quickly checked their body for something, anything that could open the locked doors and finds a keycard. Perfect. He grinned, quietly “thanking” Urbanshade for increasing his rank to MR-P. He knows where those creatures are being kept in. He’ll hold onto the shotgun as well.

With the keycard, he opened and freed as many as he possibly could before the guardsmen eventually surround him. Chaos would spread around the facility rapidly as the creatures relentlessly slaughtered those who got too close, who were in the way, or who had angered them for what they did to them. For locking them up for their sick experiments.

It didn’t take long for Z-13 to be identified and tracked down by other guardsmen. Once he emerged from the water, there was already a squad ready to greet him. He growled, wanting a taste of sweet revenge. He was already aware he can pack a punch thanks to the mantis shrimp DNA.

He was suddenly hit with the flash of a bright light. He covered his eyes as he yelled in pain.

“Arghhh!! You-!!” He almost fell back but he quickly caught himself. He got a quick glimpse of the one responsible for that flash. Without hesitating, he aimed his gun to them and pulled the trigger, “Piece of shit!!”

The blood splattered onto the floor and walls. Before his eyes could fully readjust and could pull the trigger again, he felt a few bullets pierce through one of his arms and some in his shoulder. He dropped the shotgun as he fell into the water where he emerged from, immediately swimming to cover as they shot into the water. He was lucky enough they missed.

He cursed, gripping his bleeding arm. He’ll leave a trail like this. He needs to move. It was hard to understand what the guardsmen above were saying, but no doubt it was further orders to follow and hunt him down. Right, after the results of his experimentation, it was later refined into a much more desired state. Majority if not all of the guardsmen now can breathe underwater.

He huffs, making up his mind and swimming away to find a safer place and hopefully something to patch up his wounds. With his uninjured arm, he manages to punch a path through in an attempt to escape them.

He looks back occasionally and listens for anything coming before continuing to wherever the path is taking him. He finally finds an opening and cautiously emerges from the water. It was quiet, mostly. There’s some distant noises, but they don’t sound like guardsmen. Once confirming it was clear, he climbs out. He hisses again, gripping the arm that was shot.

One way would potentially lead to more company, while the other leads further into the facility. An area that’s been cleared out already, so that’s where he heads to. The halls were empty. He can’t hear anything close by. There has to be something he can use here, something they left behind. Searching through every drawer and every room he could get into, sometimes even knocking down a door, he found everything but a medical kit. He kept some of the things he found though, like another gun he found and a flashlight.

He comes across a hallway he never often passed by. There was one unlocked room and the door opens upon detecting his presence. Some of the lights were knocked out already, but the glow from the tube in the other side of the room was still on. It was another containment cell for a creature they captured, one he doesn’t remember. He crawled his way inside and the door shuts behind him. His anglerfish lure blinks on as he gently pulls on it.

On one of the desks, he spots a medical kit and wasted no time to disinfect and wrap up his wounds. Then he notices a document that was left on the desk beside it. His ear-fins twitched as he glanced to the tube then back to the document. Curiosity eventually got the better of him and he opens it. His eyes widen once he sees a picture of you inside and some information.

Z-8. [First Name] [Last Name].

A subject used for an experiment to achieve immortality with the turritopsis dohrnii, otherwise known as the immortal jellyfish, as well as regenerative abilities of an octopus. Z-8 went through a series of “deaths” to study how the resurrection worked, but it turned out to be very similar to the actual jellyfish itself. They’d cut off limbs while the subject was still awake to study the regenerative abilities, and due to their poor execution, the subject had died to blood loss during some of those procedures. Still, the limbs grew back and immortality was achieved along with the ability to swim and breathe underwater, but the form the subject’s body took was undesirable and grotesque.

He looked up at the creature in the tube as he closed the document. This thing is you. A strange mix of a jellyfish and an octopus… But you’re still alive. Your loss of sight was due to your head forming into the hood of a jellyfish, almost appearing to be a veil, and the tentacles had stretched out from beneath it. Losing the feeling of your arms and legs were due to them forming into oral arms. Your torso leading up to your neck and stopping just above your mouth before it formed the hood.

He wants to get you out, but he’ll need to get you underwater. With the way your body had morphed, it wasn’t one to traverse easily on dry land. He’ll have to carry you as long as you don’t accidentally sting him. That’ll be a serious issue.

The card he has should have clearance to release you. Considering the part of the facility he’s in, there has to be a place big enough for you. One that leads outside too. Once the tube is drained and you descend to the bottom of the tube, it opens and he catches you before you fell onto the floor. The texture of your skin now made it a bit difficult to keep a grip on you but he managed to find a way that wouldn’t allow you to slip.

It doesn’t take too long for him to find a hall with its ceiling collapsed and its floor leaving a hole that leads into the floor below. That room was filled to the brim with water, and no doubt the next few rooms were to be as well. One of those rooms has to have broken off, leaving an opening to escape the facility. He carefully sets you down into the water but gets startled when you suddenly gasp and panic, wiggling out of his grasp. This caused him to drop you and splash into the water.

“H-Hey! Wait!!” He calls.

The waters settles for a bit until it bubbled and you reemerge from the water. You didn’t exactly look up at him until you sensed his light. This was the first time he gets to talk to you without a glass between you two. With how your body is now, however, he won’t be too surprised if you lost your voice as well.

“[Name], right?”

You nodded. Part of him was relieved your memory was still intact, so he continued with a smile. One he hoped you could sense in his voice.

“I’m sure you probably know me as “Z-13.” You and I were placed in cells beside each other?”

You nodded again.

“My name is Sebastian,”

Beneath the hood, he saw you smile, “H..Hello… Sebastian,”

You still had your voice.

I don’t think you guys know how happy I am with how this turned out. I don’t know why but I do really like this one.

I might end up using this concept for an OC if I’m being honest…

#🌑 // the moon provides #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian x reader #roblox sebastian solace #pressure sebastian #sebastian solace #roblox pressure #pressure #roblox

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soamericn · 7 months

Text

𝜗𝜚 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ ‘ one night he wakes strange look on his face pauses, then says you're my best friend and you knew what it was he is in love ‘

𝜗𝜚… summary , ( f!yn x oscar piastri ) oscar piastri is head over heels for his best friend, though he keeps his feelings a secret. he wins his first race in f1 and after seeing her cheering him on in the crowd he can’t hide his affections any longer.

𝜗𝜚… type , irl

𝜗𝜚… faceclaim , up to your imagination <3

𝜗𝜚… triggers , there is none

𝜗𝜚… authors note , my first f1 one shot! I'm really proud ngl and it's as cute as I was hoping! hope ya'll enjoy!

🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ masterlist

all he could hear was his heartbeat in his helmet; it flooded his ears like static on a radio. After getting out of the car without a thought in his head, he stepped onto the car in front of the halo putting both of his arms into the air.

Adrenaline flooded his senses, his colorful helmet shined under the night race lights. The cheers were overwhelmingly loud as each voice blended together into the sea of people.

Subconsciously so, his ears searched for one voice in particular, one that was soft and comforting. The one he’d share a laugh with until three in morning. Or would tease him inexplicably. But the voice was stirred in with the rest.

Oscar stepped down from the car, and the first thing he did was run into the ocean of papaya. Many hands covered him, patting his back or helmet hearing many compliments on his win. After a minute or so of drowning himself in the praise and affection from his team he stepped away removing his helmet and placing it on a pedestal.

He ran a hand through his damp hair, it staying in place as he did so. A hand landed on his shoulder and he turned, seeing a man in a matching suit who pulled him into a hug. “Mate you did great.” He complimented, his voice directly in his ear.

The Australian didn’t realize how truly speechless he was until someone directly spoke to him. The words formed in his throat but never made it out of his mouth.

Lando pulled away with a light two taps on his back. “Thanks, maybe not pelting me with champagne could be a good job present.” Oscar jokes.

The Brit lets out a small laugh and shakes his head, “Oh c'mon you need the full podium experience-” Oscar’s attention on Lando was cut off, the voice.

The one he’d scanned for, moments before the voice had made itself known. She shouted his name from behind the short fence with the rest of the crowd desperately trying to get the man she’d known for most of her life’s attention. Oscar’s eyes searched the crowd, until they found her, he could’ve picked her out in any crowd his entire being always seemed drawn to her.

“Oscar!” His best friend. The only one he’s ever really known. Always supporting him, even today adorning herself in all papaya wearing a jersey he’d known for a fact had a huge eighty-one on the back (and might’ve been stolen from his closet), all for him.

Oscar rushed over, as soon as he’d spotted her after the race, he just knew he needed her in the moment. The calm, composedness of his being suddenly dissolved into the smokey air. Still with a small fence between them he wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her into a tight hug. Her arms naturally floated around his neck, they fit together perfectly like two puzzle pieces made just for one another. Camera flashes flooded their sudden embrace, and he lightly lifted her into the air as he tightened their hold on one another. They could’ve done the whole podium ceremony, everyone could have gone home and Oscar would’ve stayed here with his arms around her always.

“You did so well today.” Her voice was soft, the words only meant for him. She only wanted him to know how proud she was of him. How much her heart raced as he crossed the checkered flag, and how much support she’d carried with her for him through everything.

His impulsiveness took over as soon as he heard her speak, he wasn’t thinking about anything in that moment, not the cameras, the thousands of people that surrounded the pair, and certainly not the feelings he carried for her for many years; the feelings he kept deep down for too long, way too long. He only thought of her, the way her soft voice tickled against his skin and the flush it brought to his already red cheeks.

Placing a delicate but firm hand on her cheek which she covered with her own hand, her cheeks turning a light and kind shade of pink and a gentle smile formed from her lips. The lips Oscar just happened to notice how pink and heart shaped they’d been and how soft they looked compared to his own chapped ones.

Oscar slightly looked down and she’d looked up at him, her eyes seemed as if they were looking into him, as if she could’ve read his thoughts. Standing like this for a second, there was a moment where the Australian had contemplated, was he going to possibly ruin a friendship over his own feelings? Before he could even think about not doing it, her eyelashes fluttered warm and innocent and he filled the gap between them.

They were perfectly made for one another. They moved in sync, and she’d tasted of an orange mocktail and strawberry chapstick and everything that's made her, her. His thumb lightly stroked her cheek, and his arm snaked around her waist holding her tightly.

Both her arms ended up around his neck, smiling sweetly into the kiss and giggled lightly into the Aussies mouth. Not hearing the reactions from the crowd surrounding them.

When Oscar pulled away they’d both missed the warmth and comfort of one another. But realization hit him like a tidal wave, remembering all of his actions so clearly except for how her arms fit so perfectly around him, and the way she’d smiled at his affections.

His hand removed itself from her waist and mind started to race and he pictured missed calls, a missing eighty-one jersey in the crowd, losing the praise of a voice that motivated him to be better. He’d completely zoned out at this point and she’d used her hand placing it back on his freckled cheek and directing him to look at her. Of course she’d know what he was thinking.

She always did.

She’d looked up at him, a small glint in her eyes, that made Oscar wanna kiss her all over again but he held back, fear filling his chest so tightly he’d felt like he’d choke on it. He’d race cars at 300km/h without as much fear as he felt now.

Placing a hand on his other cheek, she stood on her tippy toes reaching his lips giving them a light peck. Her way of saying everything was gonna be okay. His cheeks flushed a deep shade of red and his arms comfortably made its way back around her waist and his hand slid up her back.

She looked up at him, anticipating him to make a move. Though she was impatient, she pulled his racing suit collar down and her lips landed on his once again. He gasped in between his lips, a small surprise of her sudden affection.

“I think I’ve always loved you.” He whispered into her mouth in between kisses, her heart shaped lips formed in a smile against his.

She pulled away, lightly biting his bottom lip, “you think I didn’t?” She grinned a light giggle leaving her lips.

It was like a candle had been relit in Oscar’s head, a candle that flamed only for her. A flame that reminded him how much he needed her, how much he’d been needing her. His arms tightened around her almost possessively so, he reveled in the taste and feeling of her, and how she finally knew that most of him was hers.

𝜗𝜚… tags , @whitcferrari @miguelasdr @lcvelctters @cedarbcws

#𝜗𝜚˖ ࣪₊˚ soamericns works!#friends to lovers is everything to me #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one x y/n #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris #f1 fic #formula one fic #formula one fanfiction

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after-witch · 8 months

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Fever Pitch [Yandere Geto Suguru x Reader]

Title: Fever Pitch [Yandere Geto x Reader]

Synopsis: Geto’s been hit by a lust curse, and you take what little control you have to avoid him snapping. Follow-up to Bus Stop.

Word Count: 3200ish

Notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, dubcon, sex, some mentions of past degradation

It’s funny, the way you can get used to anything. When you were first taken, you would have sworn--on your heart, your soul, on blood from a cut on your palm--that you would fight, hiss, and spit at Geto until the day you died.

And now here you are, nestled on a seat cushion in his sitting room, quietly reading a book while he’s off collecting curses and doing favors that aren’t really true favors at all. The person assigned to you today is a familiar face, someone you don’t entirely detest, if only because they are content to keep an eye on you without emanating visible hatred towards your existence at every second.

They were even kind--or what classifies as “kind” here--enough to lend you their scissors a few weeks ago, when someone stuck a wad of sticky bubble gum in your hair as they passed you in a hallway. Sure, they kept an eye on you the entire time in order to make sure you weren’t trying to stab yourself (or anyone else); but they said nothing as you hacked at your own hair, eventually giving yourself a passable pixie cut.

Geto had raised his eyebrows when he came back that day, and had a quiet word with your keeper. But you didn’t get punished, so that was that. Cutting off your hair felt good, even. Like you were cutting out whatever part of yourself was still simmering in pointless anger at your situation. Why be angry, why be in despair, when nothing you did mattered? You ran once. He found you. If you bothered to run again--not that you’d get the chance--he would find you again. And again.

It was better to find something like enjoyment instead of wallowing.

Wasn’t it?

Besides, even Geto had been different since the day he found you. He seemed content for you to be a quiet pet again. He no longer visited you in the night, touching you, forcing pleasures and sounds you didn’t want to experience from his fingers, even as he commanded you to always keep your arms away from him. He was allowed to touch--but you weren’t allowed to touch him. You hated it.

But he hadn’t touched you in the slightest intimate way since that day. Unless you counted the condescending head pats as intimate, which you certainly did not.

You hear Geto’s footsteps, and your muscles tense in preparation. You carefully set a bookmark in your book and set it aside; he didn’t like it when you paid attention to a book instead of him. Especially when he’d been gone for most of the day.

But something’s wrong. Something’s different.

These are not the orderly footsteps of Geto returning to his rooms at the end of a (horribly) productive day. These steps are staggered--hesitant.

Strange.

Your current keeper stands when Geto enters, but he simply dismisses them with a wave of his hand and an unusually curt: “Leave.”

They hazard a glance at you--it almost feels kind--before swiftly grabbing their bag and walking away, hurried steps echoing in the hallway that leads to his suite of rooms.

As soon as they’re out of earshot, Geto begins to shed his clothing. Now this wasn’t unusual. He preferred to wear only a casual outfit around you, some trousers and a light top most of the time. What was unusual was the undignified manner in which he did it, simply peeling away his layers and tossing them on the ground, all the while his breath seemed to come in quiet, stuttering pants.

It’s enough to make you break your gaze from the floor and look at him.

Geto looks… ill. His cheeks are flushed and yes, his chest is heaving a little as he takes in short, frenzied breaths. Even the skin of his neck and collar had a slight glow to it, like he’d been exercising vigorously or done something terribly embarrassing.

“Geto?” You ask, hesitantly. You flick your eyes back down to the floor, where you’re told they belong until he says otherwise.

He doesn’t answer. The final layers of his robes drop to the floor.

Normally, he would approach you now, calmly. He might tilt your chin up with his hand and ask what you did today--if you were good, if you behaved.

Instead he staggers away, catching himself on the corner of a table.

“Geto?” You try again, voice higher, more concerned.

You look up to see him with both palms splayed on the table, breaths coming in deeper huffs. His skin is still flushed--it’s so strange--and you swear the room feels warmer than it did a few moments ago.

His fingers curl against the table into a tight fist, then release, then curl again. His breath comes in more ragged by the moment. There’s an unmistakable soft groan--in pain? Discomfort?

“Are you… all right?” You ask, and do the boldest thing possible in your present situation, which happens to be standing up on shaky legs and taking a step towards him.

“Don’t.” The word is practically growled out, and your muscles freeze for the moment, keeping you in place.

He turns to look at you, but instead of looking angry, he looks… desperate. His eyes roam over you and his lips part, and you see the edge of his tongue reach out to lick a dry patch as he struggles to regain control over his breath.

The expression hits you and it’s oh-so familiar and you don’t like it at all.

Geto isn’t sick.

He’s aroused.

You reach up to clutch at your shirt, fidgeting with the fabric like it might actually provide comfort in this unsure situation.

“What… happened?”

He doesn’t answer at first. His mouth twists into something like a grin, but it’s twitchy, uncontrolled. He chuckles slowly.

“A curse. I should have taken a closer look, but--” He lets out a pained sigh and squeezes his eyes shut. “I was distracted. Foolish. Stupid.”

You--perhaps foolish, stupid--take a step forward. Little pieces find themselves fitting together in your brain, trying to create a plan for what will come ahead. It’s how you’ve managed to survive so far, isn’t it? Taking in everything about your situation and acting accordingly to preserve your health and sanity?

“What… kind of curse?” You ask, and take more steps, until you’re close enough that you can feel some of the unnatural warmth from his body.

He looks at you slowly, his eyes almost rolling in a way that makes your stomach turn. You perhaps don’t need to actually hear the answer. It’s become clear, with the way he’s panting, the way his skin is flushed, the awful warmth from being so close to him. But it’s best for him to admit it, anyway, and confirm it to your whirring brain.

“Lust.”

Something seems to roil through him and he leans down, groaning in an uninhibited way that makes cold fear crawl up your arms, despite the warmth from Geto’s body. This close, you can see the sweat beading on his forehead, and when you glance down, his hardness is evident through his trousers.

Oh, you’re going to be fucked by the end of the night. You know it. It’s an inevitability.

What if it’s like before? When he would be rough and fast, and it would feel good and terrible all at the same time? When you felt like you had no control over what was done to you, and what you were made to do? The shame that would spread through your body afterward was nearly unbearable.

No… it was better to take charge yourself, wasn’t it? The only other option was to wait for him to snap. And if he was influenced by some lust-filled curse, there’s no telling what he might do.

So you’ll take care of him before he can reach that breaking point.

“Geto,” you say, and your hand reaches out slowly, like he’s a wild dog (perhaps he is) until it rests just above his back. Close enough for him to sense you. Although attempting to touch him without permission would normally have earned you a slap on the wrist and a reprimand, Geto leans into your palm, letting out a soft, pleased noise, as if your palm resting on his back was something far more wonderful.

“Let me… take care of you,” you manage, tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth before you force it loose to say the words. He doesn’t answer, breath still coming out in a pant.

“Let’s go to the bedroom.” You speak louder, more firmly. More sure of yourself, even if a large part of you is wondering if this is a terrible idea after all. But it’s better to get it over with; to do this on your terms, or as much of your terms as you can manage. You can at least admit that.

Geto doesn’t answer, and you’re about to say something else when he grabs your wrist--it’s too tight, his palm is sweaty--and begins to pull you towards the bedroom. Your house slippers scuff on the floor from the unsteady force of his grip, but you manage not to fall.

Later, you will wonder--if you did trip in that moment, would he have simply taken you on the floor? It was a distinct possibility.

But you don’t fall. You make it to the bedroom and he lets go of you, stripping off his clothes with a frenzy that is completely unlike him. You don’t wait for an order to remove your own clothing. He might not have even been in the right frame of mind to remember that you’re normally supposed to wait for his order on everything. Or perhaps it has been so long since he’d touched you this way, he didn’t even think of giving it in the first place.

When he turns around, both of you are naked. His hardness is evident, erect and pressing against his flushed body. You can see wetness around his tip and something between your leg twinges in both pleasant anticipation and worry at what this curse-induced arousal might mean for the both of you.

“Well?” He says, voice thick and low.

You swallow against your throat, against the worries that normally come with seeing Geto naked. You remind yourself that this is different. That you’re taking control, as much as you can get, with him so afflicted. It won’t be like before, surely, when he would use you and leave you alone like the toy that you were afterward.

“Lay on the bed,” you command. Your body flinches instinctively at the audacity of it. “Please,” you add, but he doesn’t seem to mind your forwardness in this moment. He crawls on the bed and leans back against the pillows, keeping himself half-upright as he watches you.

You glance down at his cock. It twitches, ever so slightly, and you feel yourself twitch between your legs to match it. Was it because it had been so long? Or because you were the one telling him what to do? Or some awful mixture of both, and more besides?

It was hard to tell what was normal and what wasn’t in the fucked up state of your existence.

“Get on the bed.” It’s his turn to give a command, and you’re quick to obey it. For as much as you’re taking the initiative, you can’t let yourself forget who owns you, perhaps literally. Even if he’s currently flushed and woozy and subject to the demands of the arousal forced upon him by some wayward curse.

You climb on the bed and crawl until you’re positioned with your knees on either side of his hips. It’s the first time you’ve been above him. It would be out of the question, you think, before. He liked to remind you where you belonged in the literal sense, and that had extended to sexual positions.

Instinctively, your hands go behind your back, folding primly. You’re not supposed to touch him during sex. You know that. It’s been the rule; it was one of the first things he drilled into your head when he began fucking you. He was allowed to touch you in any way he wanted; stroking and pinching and whatever else fell within his whims. But you? You keep your filthy hands to yourself.

And so, it’s with your hands behind your back that you carefully begin to lower yourself onto his erect cock.

He gasps and groans, and you do, too. Your twinges were not enough to get you properly wet, and it hurts as you lower yourself down. But the flush on his face and the feeling of being full after so long begins to grant you the warmth necessary to produce your own slickness, easing the passage just a little as you take all of him in. Not enough for it to be painless. But it’s not like that ever mattered before.

“Fuck,” he spits out, throwing his head back from there mere sensation of your pussy taking in his erection. You feel yourself clench him and he hisses in delight. It makes you feel a bit giddy, to affect him like this, with so little.

Your fists clench behind your back as he bottoms out inside you, and your own groan joins his as you steady yourself, keeping your balance as you sit on top of him. His cock twitches inside you and you let out a sigh, leaning forward. Your hair tickles your ears.

He’s looking up at you, hips writhing in a way that makes you gasp.

“Touch me.”

You think you must have misheard him.

“I said touch me,” he says, more forceful, the arousal pulsing through him giving his voice a thick tinge. He thrusts his hips and you bump upwards, in discomfort yes, but also a growing sense of your own arousal at the fullness and friction inside you.

“All--” You gasp when he thrusts again, and perhaps the idea of taking too much control was an illusion. “All right!” Your hands slowly come out from behind your back and with a hesitation that comes from months of being trained otherwise, you slowly lower your hands to rest on his hips.

Slowly, you trail your hands up to his chest, eyeing his nipples. How long had they been erect? Was it before or after you lowered yourself on him? It doesn’t matter. You begin to pull yourself up, timing your own movements with his now-shallow thrusting. As you do, your hands rest on his nipples, rubbing them slowly with your palm--the way he sometimes does to you, if he’s not pinching them harshly to make you squeal.

“Yes,” he murmurs. “Just… just like that. Good pet.”

And there again, the sight of his pleasure from your touch, his raise, makes you clench… which makes him hiss in pleasure, which makes you giddy.

It’s a wonderful cycle, and so different from all of the other times he’s fucked you. This is almost nice, in its own way. To be above him, mostly in control of how fast you move, how much of him you take in and out as you lift yourself up and down on his cock.

“Faster,” he says, and you don’t mind obeying. One of your hands still toys with his nipple while the other reaches between your own legs and thumbs at your clit. It’s audacious, really--you’re not supposed to pleasure yourself without his permission.

But he doesn’t tell you to stop. Instead he simply watches the way your thumb rubs against your clit; does he enjoy the sight of his cock inside you, the way your pussy takes him as you use your leg muscles to thrust up and down?

He must, because you can feel your own arousal mixing with his, see the way his chest rises faster. Tell-tale signs that he’s getting close.

“Stop,” he orders suddenly. “Get off me.” His voice is still low, still filled with lust, but there’s something else in it. Something more familiar.

“Geto?” You ask, confused, your own voice coated with arousal that’s just about to reach its peak. It’s disappointing to stop now, but you know better than to disobey. Even right now, or perhaps, especially right now.

He seems to regain a stronger semblance of himself. “Get off,,” he commands, and you do.

It doesn’t take long to realize why he gave the order. He swiftly grips your arms and flips you on the bed, your back pressing against the sheets that are warm with his own unmistakable body heat.

Now this is familiar. Geto above you, naked, flushed, aroused. And you, beneath him. But this time your arousal was of your own making, and there’s a sort of power in that, you think.

He’s back inside you and by this time you’re wet enough that it simply feels good to be filled again. His wrists keep your own pinned and you murmur a plea, you were so close, Geto--and to your surprise, one of his hands leaves your wrist to begin playing with your clit.

Arousal builds quickly this time, and you come without ceremony, your muscles clenching around him and legs kicking helplessly on the bed as he continues to touch you through your orgasm.

Familiar patterns set in, and as your own orgasm begins to fade out, you know what will happen now. He’ll fuck you faster and pull out as he comes–he refuses to finish inside you–and then leave you to yourself.. Maybe he’ll have to go another round to deal with the effects of this curse, but whatever change had been over him before, allowing you greater freedom, was surely gone.

Only… maybe not.

Because as you feel the familiar sensation of Geto pushing inside you harder and faster as he nears his release, something new happens. Something different. Something that makes butterflies and battery acid flutter in your stomach all at the same time.

He leans down and presses his lips against yours, tentatively at first, then harder, until you open up your mouth and let his tongue inside.

Geto kisses you. It’s a surprisingly passionate kiss, and you let out a yelp of surprise when he grips your chin and kisses you through his own orgasm.

He doesn’t even pull out. You feel his seed inside you for the first time, a liquid warmth. It’s uncomfortable and strange and you wonder how angry he’ll be, later on, that he did this.

He doesn’t stop kissing you until you’re breathing heavily through your nose, and when he pulls away you take in a gulp of air.

He stares down at you with something that looks like wonder. At himself… or you?

“Good pet,” he murmurs. But there’s no condescension in it today.

There’s an awful, naked vulnerability that washes over you.

Geto let you touch him. Geto kissed you.

Geto, Geto, Geto…

Was he going to be mad when this curse effect wore off? Would he get rid of you for making him violate so many of his own rules?

You don’t have time to think about it, because you realize he’s still hard, and he begins to thrust shallowly inside your overstimulated pussy.

He’ll have to go another round.

Afterward, sleep came without warning. You had simply closed your eyes when Geto finally pulled out and that was that.

You don’t know how much time has passed when you open your eyes, blinking away the grogginess of an unexpected nap.

There’s a soreness between your legs, which you expected. There’s the feeling of your body being used, a low openness that combines vulnerability and humiliation in a bittersweet mixture; which you expected.

You don’t expect to blink and see Geto sleeping beside you, his arm slung around your waist, keeping you in place.

Geto never slept with you like this. He would fuck you and use you and sometimes tell you that you were a good pet if he was in a jovial mood--and he would leave.

You’re afraid to move. If you wake him, will he be angry? Will he be annoyed that he let himself fall asleep beside you? Annoyed with himself for allowing it, or annoyed with you for being there?

You don’t move, but it doesn’t matter. His eyes flutter open and you feel the warmth of his breath on your face as he takes in the sight before him, as you just did.

He doesn’t furrow his eyebrows in irritation or fling himself out of bed or reprimand you for existing like this in his space. Instead he pulls you closer, until your face is pressed closer to his chest. It makes you feel something--warmth? Affection? Relief that you weren’t being yelled at for being bad?--and your hand slowly leaves your side to curl up against his chest.

He allows it.

“Go back to sleep,” he murmurs.

And you obey.

#yandere geto #yandere geto suguru #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere #afterwitch writes

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lyrefromthesea · 2 months

Note

Is there going to be a part 2 to touch starved Giyu?

Giyuu - Your Touch Is All I Need

author's note: this is the second part of this post.

pairing: Giyuu x reader

content warning: nsfw, explicit sexual content, oral (giving), cursing

you've noticed him. it was the one thing he had desired so desperately and now it finally happened.

after months of conversations, little acts of service and small smiles, he had finally made you see him. it just felt right, it felt right to be seen.

so why did it feel so wrong right now?

he had never been insecure about his own body, he knew he was trained. he had heard the woman talk while he was on missions, he was a fairly attractive man.

but right now, he could only hope you felt the same. he had opened up to you, talked about his past and his present. and you continued to love him.

so why was he afraid your love could disappear now?

he watched your hands rub against his thigh, your touch barely there. he longed to feel more, but was afraid to go further.

the moonlight made the room light up, just barely. everything felt strangely blurred and extremely clear to him.

he could perfectly see your lips pressing against his thigh, your eyes meeting his to give him a loving grin. he wasn't used to be looked at so affectionately, especially not when he felt your lips suck on his inner thigh.

the action made him flinch, press his lips together to stifle the sound threatening to escape his throat. you were looking at him so calmly, why did your touch feel so intense?

"are you ready, Giyuu? i want to show you more.." you offered, seeing his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed. he was clearly nervous, but the twitch in his pants and the hesitant nod of his head made you proceed further.

your fingers hooked under his pants, giving him one last reassuring glance before you slowly pulled them down.

the man had been awfully hard, his precum already making his underwear wet, but he had stayed quiet throughout the whole experience. he trusted you, deciding to let you do what you want.

yet he couldn't hold back the shaky breath escaping him when you slid his pants down, hard cock slapping against his muscular body.

"poor Giyuu, you must've really craved more.." you cooed, his eyes revealing that you were right. "why didn't you say anything?"

"i.. i just, hah-" he breathed out, his voice cutting off. he didn't get to finish speaking, body reacting to your lips on his cock.

he had imagined this moment a few times already, eager to know whether you'd take him right in or stroke him first.

nothing could've prepared him for the way you were kissing along his shaft, working your way towards the tip and licking over the slit. the whole action made him shudder, especially when your lips trailed down again.

your eyes looked so innocent, they were nothing like the lewd actions he witnessed right now. your hand wrapping around his cock, gently pumping him up and down, had his eyes closing.

"oh.. i didn't know it could feel.. nh- this good.." his hand had never felt this soft, nor did he feel so loved when he stroked himself to the thought of you. he wanted to see, he needed to see you do this to him.

"w- wait-" he gasped, his eyes widening upon seeing you again. you leaned down further, fully exploiting your place between his legs. he nearly had to blink back tears when your tongue traced over his sack, stimulating the sensitive skin.

"wait, not there.." he moaned, eyes mostly lidded when he felt you suck on it. truthfully, he had never touched himself there, now close to cumming embarrassingly fast.

though his mind told him to make you stop, to try holding back longer, he felt his cock twitch in your hands, precum dribbling down his hard shaft.

however, before he could fall over the edge, you pulled back, making him suck in a deep breath.

"why.. why would you stop?" he asked, already feeling your lips pressing against the tip of his cock. he choked out, feeling you slide him right in.

this was different from your hands, different from anything he had ever experienced before. your mouth felt hot and wet around him, basically asking him to cum.

"[name].. love.. this is-" he thought having your lips wrapped around him was bad, he couldn't comprehend when you started bobbing your head along his shaft.

"f- fuck.. fuck!" he whined, hands gripping the bedsheets tighter than ever. he had to fight the urge to hold onto you, forcing your head down until your nose brushed against his groin.

yet he couldn't keep his lower body in check, his hips trying to buck up even though he wanted to hold back.

he didn't understand why his body was responding this harshly towards you, it never was this bad when he had to masturbate.

"please- please, i- if you do that, i have to cum.." but he didn't receive mercy from you, crying out when you picked up speed, sometimes gagging around him.

"i'm gonna cum.. 'm going to cum! ha- mh- can't hold back-" his jaw went slack when you fully pushed your head down, swallowing around him.

not a single sound left him until he felt his cock twitch, his cum spurting down your throat. his whole body was tense, finally crying out and pushing his hips up, trying to get himself deeper.

you watched him tremble above you, sheets looking like they might rip from his sheer grip on them.

when it finally was over, he tried catching his breath, too exhausted to look at you standing up. he only opened his eyes to see you straddling his lap, his dick - still hard - pressing against you, feeling just how aroused you were against his body.

"you did good, love.." your lips captured his in a deep kiss, tongue tracing over his bottom lip and slipping into his mouth. he could only moan in response, pressing his tongue against yours.

his cum had left an unusual taste in your mouth, making him shudder in response. a weird combination of sweetness and bitterness spread throughout his mouth.

"please.." he breathed out, feeling you break the kiss. your whole body was pressed against his, making his skin tingle all over.

"i.. i can still continue.. i want to have you fully.." the words made your heart swell, seeing him so exhausted from one orgasm, but longing to continue.

"we'll get to it.." you reassured him, your gentle grinding turning your promise into actions.

he was sure he'd lose his mind when this was over.

#kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba smut #kny #kny x reader #kny smut #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer smut #kny giyuu #giyuu tomioka #giyuu x reader #giyuu x y/n #giyuu x you #giyuu smut

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certaimromance · 2 months

Text

𝜗𝜚 Holding Us.

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: You finally had a perfect date with the guy you like, you even kissed and everything seemed perfect. But suddenly he starts acting weird and you think you know this behavior.

Words: 2,5k.

TW: mentions of trauma, death, injuries (normal warnings in the series). drugs and addictions!!! especially spencer's history with them. angst and also comfort???. spoilers for season 2. english is not my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: Next time I'm probably going to write something that might be all fluff, but drama and angst are calling to me.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The taste of green tea, accompanied by ginger, entered your throat again and you couldn't help but let out a sigh. Your reading glasses fogged up and you mentally cursed yourself for not remembering to take them off sooner. Your mind was elsewhere and the bandage on your right hand made it impossible for you to go about your business normally.

You settled into the jet seat and tried to ignore the pain you felt in your arms to continue reading normally and turn the page, but it was still impossible and not even your favorite hot drink worked as medicine. All the recent events were replaying in your mind like a movie, and being attacked by a serial killer on your first case after a long flu break was worthy of a dramatic script.

Fortunately, Spencer was your partner at the time and helped you just before the unsub could use his knife on you badly and end your life in the blink of an eye. You had cut your hand deeply in the middle of the struggle and Reid appeared to save you when you were lost, even with his few physical skills, he fought the man as best he could and shot him without even hesitating.

You didn't even get a chance to thank him because it all happened so fast and he'd been acting weird since you came back to work after your break. In the ambulance, he barely looked at you when the paramedic finished patching you up, asked if you were okay, and then went back to acting like you were a pest to be avoided at all costs. You kept wondering if you'd done something wrong, because just four weeks ago the two of you had the best date of your lives, even kissed, and now you weren't even acting like friends.

You began to wonder how much could have changed in a week. Everything was fine until you officially went back to work and tried to act normal. You got sick after the date, Spencer was a gentleman and brought you soup and flowers for days, even though he knew you wouldn't let him see you. And then, overnight, you found out that he'd been kidnapped in a case while you were away, and assumed that was why his constant messages and calls had stopped. You came back thinking that you could be a support to him after such a traumatic experience, but instead he avoided you.

“Is everything okay?” Hotch's voice startled you, almost causing you to drop your cup on the floor. He was sitting in front of you and you thought he was asleep like everyone else.

“Oh, you scared me.” You put your hand over your heart and put the teacup down on the table to look at him.

“You haven't answered my question.” He insisted, settling back in his seat and giving you a look that compelled you to tell him everything. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I was just thinking about what happened and how I didn't get a chance to thank Reid.” You admitted somewhat awkwardly, not wanting to make it obvious that your feelings went beyond friendship, although deep down you knew it was clear. “I've seen him acting strangely, I think he's avoiding me.”

“You should try to talk to him and ask him what's wrong. He saved your life today, that's not something you do by avoiding someone.” Your boss said in a reassuring tone, noticing your great nervousness about the subject. “I don't think he'll have a problem talking to you, and now he seems as thoughtful as you are.” He finished, pointing with his head.

You took the moment to look at Spencer and noticed that Hotchner was right. He looked as pensive and confused as you had been during the minutes you had all been traveling. He was frowning slightly, fiddling with his fingers and looking out the window, even though it was night and there wasn't much to see because of the darkness. You couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking about you.

“I hope you're right.” You murmured, taking another sip of your tea and looking at the papers the man was going through. “Strauss will send me home after this, right?”

“You can't do much with your injured use hand, you need a few days.”

“I'm fine and my other hand is fine, I have not even had to take painkillers. I've got it under control.” You replied tiredly, trying to ignore the pain you felt by making a gesture. “Please don't send me home. I can't anymore, I have to work or I will go crazy.” You added, practically begging him.

“Don't get used to it.” He warned you in a serious tone before continuing. “But I'll talk to her and you stay out of it. You'll just profile and theorize until your hand is right. Nothing more than that and where my eyes see you.”

“You're the best boss in the world, really, I'll buy you a mug that says that.” You said, getting up from your seat and holding back the urge to hug him, knowing it was too much.

“Agent.” He called out to you in a serious tone before you could do anything. “Be careful and tell me if you are in pain...just don't tell anyone I intervened for you or I'll fire you.”

“Understood, sir.” You replied in the same formal tone before heading for the bathroom.

Something inside you knew it wasn't normal for the stitches in your hand to hurt so much, so you slipped into the plane's bathroom as quickly as you could, thankful that most of the team was asleep enough to notice your groans as you moved forward and closed the door behind you. You carefully removed the bandage, seeing that a few stitches had opened up, and pulled the painkillers you'd been given to ease the pain out of the bag, but before you could take any, a couple of knocks on the door made you jump and pray it wasn't your boss.

“Who is it?” You asked in confusion.

“It's me, Spencer.”

You didn't even have to think before you unlocked the door and yanked it open with your good hand.

“Do you want to come in? I was just leaving...” You started to babble as soon as your eyes met his and all the nervousness of a teenager in love appeared.

“I wanted to know if you were okay, I saw you come in complaining of pain.” He explained calmly, lowering his gaze to your hand and watching it with concern.

“Oh, don't worry. I'm fine.”

“May I check?” He asked cautiously, and you nodded a little nervously.

You went further into the bathroom so he could do the same, and he did, taking the back of your injured hand after washing his hands to make sure everything was okay. He touched you so gently that you almost forgot the pain you were in without even taking the painkillers.

“One of the stitches opened up, that's why it hurts. But it's not infected, so they should just sew it up and you'll be fine.” Spencer reassured you while you looked at him carefully.

Incredibly, this was the first time since your return that he had said more than one sentence to you, and he was less than a meter away from you. It made you feel like a fool to be mildly excited about it.

“And how are you? You were the hero who took the worst of it and saved my life.” You pointed as you watched him carefully apply a new bandage to your hand.

As soon as you asked, he pulled away and unconsciously put his hand to his stomach, where the unsub had elbowed him pretty hard in the middle of the struggle. “I'm fine. Nothing I can't handle.”

“Sure?”

He nodded and ran his fingers gently over his stomach, wincing as he tried to hide the pain. You always thought he wasn't very good at hiding things. As soon as he looked into your eyes and saw your worried face, he repeated that he was fine. You raised a skeptical eyebrow, not believing him for a second about his supposed well-being. You had spent enough time with him to know when he was hiding something, just by looking into his eyes.

“You're a terrible liar.” You said, looking at him with narrowed eyes while he repeatedly shook his head. “Then let me see.”

Spencer's eyes widened at your request, but the blush that appeared on his cheeks betrayed that there was more than embarrassment in his expression. He hesitated for a moment, but finally agreed, knowing he wasn't going to get out of this one. He slowly lifted his shirt, wincing as he did so, revealing the large red bruise on his stomach, just above his hip.

Your gaze fell on the large red bruise on his stomach and you gasped, covering your mouth in shock. It was much larger than you had expected and the color much more intense. You reached out tentatively and gently touched the bruised skin, causing him to flinch involuntarily.

“Are you in much pain?” You asked in a worried voice, trying to decipher his expression.

“It hurts a lot.” He nodded slowly, wincing as you touched the sensitive area, sending a shiver down his back. “But I'll be fine, really.”

“Okay.” You whispered, not knowing if it was time to move away from him or not. Not knowing what to do, you spoke again and didn't move. “I wanted to thank you for what you did, I haven't been able to before.”

He seemed surprised by your appreciation, and even more so when you stopped touching him and took a step back.

“I would never let anyone hurt you.” He said seriously, as if it were an oath.

You looked at him for a few seconds to make sure he meant it, and then you looked down at the ground. Something inside of you was screaming at you that this was the time to talk to him and put all your doubts on the table for him to resolve. You needed answers or you would go crazy, and maybe this was the time.

“Spencer.” You called out to him and waited for him to look at you to start talking. “I wanted to ask you what's wrong, if I did something or I don't know, apologize if it was like that, because it's terrible to see you avoiding me.” You began to speak quickly because you were nervous. “And if it's about the other night...our date and all that. I'm really sorry if I made you uncomfortable and pushed you into something.”

“No, you didn't do anything.” He stopped you immediately and tried to touch your face to make you look into his eyes, but he couldn't because of a sudden pain in his stomach and he had to lean against the sink. “The date went well, very well. It was actually wonderful.”

“What's wrong with you, why are you acting like this all of a sudden?” You asked him. You asked him, taking a few steps toward him and noticing that his eyes were on the painkillers you had left on the sink. Then you noticed how dilated his pupils were. “Are you in a lot of pain? Do you need these?”

“I'm fine, I'm not acting out in any way.” He replied, completely ignoring your last question, but still with his eyes on the meds.

“Come on, I know you. I know there's something wrong with you, and you don't have to hide it.” You persisted, trying to understand what was happening to him. You could tell by his body language that he was tense and defensive.

“I said I'm fine.” He cut you off.

“No, you're not, I realized something is wrong.” You tried to approach him because of his erratic behavior. His hands had begun to shake and his fingers were inches from the box of painkillers. “You can trust me, I know you and I'm here for you.”

“You think you know me that well already?” His tone made you feel uncomfortable and invasive. You could tell he was bothered by your implications. “One date doesn't get you that far.”

Ouch, that was a low blow.

“I didn't say that, Spencer.” You said, trying not to sound defensive. You didn't want to start a fight when you were just worried about him. “I just want to help you.”

“I don't need your help.”

You were silent for several seconds, your eyes following his to the painkillers. “But you need these, don't you?”

The trembling of his hands intensified with your question, you could see his pupils seem to dilate even more at the sight of the drugs in your hands, and his breathing became irregular. He nodded several times after your question, desperate to get his hands on them.

“Since when?”

“What?” He asked confusedly as you took the painkillers from his hands.

“You know what I'm talking about.” You looked him straight in the eye with seriousness and much more concern than before. “I know an addict when I see one.”

Your words had hit him like a big bucket of cold water, freezing him in place. He barely blinked a few times before he spoke.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“We both know.” You took a few steps toward him and took his hands, stopping the trembling in them. “And that means you're not alone in this anymore.”

He could hardly believe what you said. His mind had convinced him that if you found out, you would yell at him, turn your back on him, or report him, and instead...you were comforting him?

Spencer felt unable to look at you, the guilt washed over him. He tried to pull away.

“You...I'm a drug addict, and you're not even mad?”

“I'm not one to judge you, but I am one to help you.”

His eyes widened slightly at your words. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He desperately wanted to protest, to tell you that he was hopeless and completely lost...but how could he? You seemed so determined to stand by his side and support him, even after learning such a painful and shameful truth.

“You won't...leave me?”

“I would never leave.” You gave him a small smile and felt him drop his head on your shoulder and relax. “It's going to be okay.”

Finally, he closed his eyes and let out a choked sob without pulling away. Your words had hit him at a low point, and the reality of the situation had come crashing down on him after he had tried to ignore it for so long. He slowly embraced you, feeling that he would collapse without your support.

“Everything will be fine.”

And you were so sure of it that you saw yourself in the mirror every day.

#spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler

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d6volution · 11 months

Text

Nascent

Jax/Reader. [Fem alinged reader.]

tags: oral sex, virginity, loss of virginity, established relationships, soft(?) jax, fluff, and smut, jax has a tongue.

Also found on my Ao3 | 2k words.

minors dni.

Jax's gloved fingers tip toed up your side, and you shivered.

"What's wreckin' ya mind dollface, you're bein a little too quiet tonight." You shuffled on the bed before rolling onto your side to face him. "Thinking too much.. I miss home. Being stuck here.. sucks." Jax was silent as you spoke, but a lazy smile was atill present on his lips. "Mnh. Yeeaaahh.. never gets old does it?" Jax laid on his back, hands folded behind his head now.

You took this chance to lay on his chest, nuzzling him a little. He grinned , but before he could say something sly you spoke up instead—

"Jax, I ... think I wanna try it." You mumbled into his chest.

"Mhmm.. try what?" His eyes were closed now. He was clearly relaxing, and your words weren't exactly clicking right now.

"It.. you know.. I just need something to take my mind off of things and—" Jax suddenly sat up , his chest bumping into your nose. His hands were on your shoulders, steading you. "You're not messin' with me, are ya? I'd like to think I've been really respectful of your boundaries lately, ya know." It sounded like he didn't believe you, but he was trying his hardest not to sound like an ass. He got a few gropes in here and there but never pushed you farther than you wanted to go.

"I'm.. serious. We'll just take it slow.." You said and felt your cheeks growing warm at the thought of being intimate with him. You've thought about it a lot but always chickened out.

"I dunno toots, I'm not sure I could hold bac—..." His hand was gliding up your back, but you shot him a look and he chuckled. Raising his hands in his defense. "Alright, alright slow it is.." After all he doesn't have to move fast to drive you crazy anyways.

"W.. Well how do we.. start? It's.. not like I can make out you.. I think." Right, you guys always exchange nuzzles instead. But Jax rolls his eyes and adjusts himself on the bed, "Just lay back will ya? I'll lead the way."

You swallowed and did like he said, falling to the plush of your bed and you felt his hands on your legs. Spreading them apart , you were resisting a little and he paused. "C'mon , I said I'd be gentle and I will babe. Scouts honor." He crossed his heart before grinning down at your nervous form.

"S.. Sorry, I haven't even been this far in the real world no less the digital.." You said embarrassed by your lack of experience. Hoping Jax wouldn't tease you too badly, but he seemed to be taking your feelings into consideration.

"Digital or not , I'm glad ya happened to save yourself for me. Now let me show you how much I appreciate that.. yeah?" He removed your lower clothing and the cold air hitting your skin caused you to shiver. You swore you saw his eyes grow dark for a moment but you didn't have a chance to analyze his expression too much before he yanked you a little by your ankles down the bed and closer to him. "Eep..!" His head was in between your legs now, and you felt something wet running along your thighs, "Jax !?"

"Mmn? I'm in the middle of something doll—"

"I.. Is that your ..tongue..!?" You cut him off and he chuckled you could feel his breath against your skin but he didn't answer. Continuing his assault on your thighs until the wet muscle finally found your folds and you stiffened up, trying to move away from the strange and new sensation but his hands pulled you back gently. "Mnh.. listen , babe. Ya gotta let me know if I'm doin' somethin' wrong alright?" He lifted his head, leaving your cunt clenching and aching for more.

"N.. No, I..I'm sorry I was just surprised— I didn't know you could.. it doesn't matter just continue.. please." You turned your head to the side, avoiding his intense eye contact.

"Before that, give me a word. So....ya know. I'll know when to stop," He said , still admiring your more vulnerable position right now.

"Uh.." You can't think, your mind clouded by the ever growing lust bubbling in your core. "I.. I don't know.. uh, circus!"

He scoffed, clearly amused. "How original."

"Ha. Ha. I can't really think right now, Jax– aahh..!" Your hips bucked as his tongue flicked against that sensitive bean hidden between your folds. Oh, he liked that noise. A little too much, and now he needed more. And he a knew a trick that would keep you singing so sweetly for him.

He licked and flicked at your clit before flatting his long tongue against you dragging his tongue agonizingly slow along your puffy cunt before pulling back, maybe because your thighs were crushing his head now. "Look toots, I know I'm rockin your world here but ya gotta keep those legs open for me yeah?" He said in a somewhat strained voice, prying your legs apart again.

You nodded, your eyes glossy with tears. You were so needy in this moment that you'd do anything he'd ask. "Close 'em again and I'll stop, how about that for a little motivation.~" His voice was playful but, you knew he was serious and that made your insides twist a little.

"Th.. That isn't fair Jax..!" You whined and kept your legs spread even so, though they trembled and you felt even more exposed keeping them open yourself rather him holding them apart.

"Pleaaasee. To be honest, I think it's perfectly fair. You told me to take slow, not that I couldn't be a little mean.. isn't that what ya love about me after all?" He said in a breathy tone, before his eyes were on your cunt again.

"You're gorgeous ya know that? Don't.. tell anyone I said that. Compliments are like currency here." He said with a tad bit of annoyance lacing his tone, "I only wanna spend that on you .." He muttered before lowering himself to go down on you again.

But this time, he was purposely being more attentive. His tongue even diving into your cunt, wiggling its way into your tight hole. And a thick finger sliding inside, you yelped and your legs threatned to close around his head but you forced to yourself to hold your trembling thighs apart. Having his finger to clench down on made it easier to cause friction and push you closer to climax.

Tears spilled over your cheeks from the stimulation and frustration.

"Mmn... mmf.." Jax moaned against your sopping wet cunt, removing his finger and using his tongue instead.. thrusting it in and out of your hole. His lidded eyes bored into your skull, you looked delicious to him when you cried.

You couldn't take it, your body jolted and legs locked around his head as you came. Soiling his face in the process. "Hh.. Hhaa..! Damn it.."

Jax tutted as he lifted his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Ya didn't keep your legs open at the end there.. Hm, I'm not sure I should let you get away with that." The tone of his voice was playful. He grins, that shit eating grin while staring at you as he climbed atop your quivering body. You were clearly still coming down from your high.

"H..Huh..? Jax.. I couldn't help it.." You sighed, chest heaving up and down. "Please.." You reached out for his hand and he allowed you, still speaking as his gloved thumb rubbed the back of your hand gently.

"Yeah, yeah of course you couldn't.. .I'm good at what I do after all," He said and kneeled in front of your spread legs. "But, we can agree ya need just a little punishment right?" He took your intertwined hands and locked them atop your head, leaving you a little exposed and vulnerable to his touch.

Pulling his cock from his overalls with the opposite hands, he started stroking it slowly. "But, I'll be gentle like ya said.." He gives a wink before leaning down and nuzzling the side of your face reassuringly. It's all apart of the bit, "You ready for this?" He whispered, making sure you were okay to move forward.

You were soaked between your legs. More than ready but still a little nervous. "Ready.." You agreed quietly, the tension in the air was palpable.

You should be relaxed after his reassurance, but the size of his cock resting in his hand was making your body tense and cunt clench around nothing.. in both anticipation and a dash of fear.

He rubbed the thick tip against your sopping wet hole, and dragged it against your clit, teasing you. "Gentle.. yeeah... mn.." He muttered, getting lost in this bit of pleasure. "So good for me.."

Gentle. Slow. Teasing.

Fuck, you couldn't take it. He had to be grinding against your cunt for two minutes straight now.

"Jax..please..please just put it in.."

"Mmn. Don't worryy.. I'll take of care ya, make you feel reeaal good.." "He said and let go of your hands as he focused on lining himself up with your hole, his tip nudged at your tight hole. Slipping a few times when he tried to push forward, "Too fuckin' tight doll, hold on yeah..? Your cute cunt seems to need some convincing.." He thrusted forward rather hard, a few inches finally pushing past the resistance in your cunt.

"Jax..!" You yelped in pain, a burning sensation was felt in between your legs and he shushed you, staying completely still. "Hey, hey.. I've got ya, I'm right here.. breathe doll." He said and watched your expressions.. so determined to take him, yet so vulnerable. It made him throb inside of you.

After a several seconds you finally spoke. "Y.. You can move now.."

He was trying so hard to hold back, it's been forever since he was buried in a pussy. So once you gave him the okay he began to move, albeit slow. More inches sunk into your wet hole. Causing your back to arch a little, "Nngh..." Jax was grunting in your ear until he finally bottomed out inside of you, "There we go, nice and deep in there... ya feel that? Feel me?" He said as his hand traced your stomach just long your belly button.

"So big .. Jax.. feels good.." You panted out, unintentionally bucking your hips forward. "Mmn.. I know doll, Im gonna move alright..?" He said and you nodded, arms around his neck now as he started to slide in and out of you, lewd squishing noises and soft moans and grunts filled the room. You were both lost in the pleasure, your body relaxing more and Jax becoming a bit more rough.

"Yeah.. nngh.. ju-just like that ... take it .." He panted out, taking one of your legs and placing it on his shoulder, his hips were a blur now but your expressions and cries of pleasure was all the reassurance he needed to keep drilling into your cunt.

Your mind felt cloudly with lust, but that unmistakable knot in your stomach was only getting tighter, threatening to burst. He could feel you, and took this opportunity to draw gentle circles along your clit, "T.. There ya go.. wanna come for me, c'mon.." He egged you on , rolling his hips deep into your cunt. His full weight accompanied each hard thrust.

You tried to hold on , but he knew how to hit every sensitive spot. Over and over. His hips slapping against yours , the sound of your bodies colliding rung in your ears.

"Ffuuahh Jax, gonna co.. come .. gonna..!!" You whined, nails digging into his back as you held him close. Cunt clamping down on his size hard. His own hips stuttered, "D..Damn it, doll.. ya tryna milk me or something..?" He sighed as he spilled into your cunt, unable to resist the way you clamped down onto him.

He gave a few more shallow thrust, forcing back in the cum that threatned to spill out. "You're perfect.." He sighed out, clearly spent and slowly pulling out of your twitching hole.

"Mmn.. thank you Jax, for this.." You kissed his cheek and out of all things, that seemed to make him flush a little.

"Don't sweat it.. let's," He cleared his throat, "Get you cleaned up alright.. I'll run a bath,"

"Can't we cuddle for a bit first..?"

Jax froze and rubbed his neck, "Look toots, I'm not sure about gettin all cuddled up on cum stained sheets," He rose his hands, "Hey, but if thats what you're into I'm not one to kinksh– oof." You tossed a pillow at his face, and he chuckled.

"Heh, like I thought, now let's get all cleaned up first, then I'll cuddle all you'd like doll.

"Sound like a deal?"

#the amazing digital circus #jax tadc #jax x reader #jaxsmut #minors dni #jax the amazing digital circus

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waayfo · 6 months

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i said, “do u think u’ll kill for me one day?” (yes, of course i will, my darling)

dottore x gn!reader. lyric from national anthem (demo). mentions of killing or murder / possessiveness / mentions of dottore’s real name / pet names / cursing / slight ?? yandere / ooc ( kinda soft dottore ). english is not my first language !

You know that Dottore, or your boss is a mad man who does as he pleases—at least that's what people think. But he always acts a little differently to you, which clearly shows favoritism. An act of favoritism that is certainly not left to some other people.

Other people try to take advantage, by asking you to make dottore do something. The most common thing that happens is when they ask you to beg dottore to release their newest prisoner (?) that became the subject of Dottore's experiments who is either their family or friend or partner.

And of course, you’re not happy with it.

You are not a tool to fulfill their wishes. And they were merely just strangers who suddenly came to ask for help, without repaying.

You are pissed.

But also scared at the same time.

Just now you came out of the room called the ‘sacred’ dottore's office. But a stranger who you guess is a new worker just by looking at his impolite behavior, suddenly grabs your arm and takes you somewhere.

“What the heck?!” You yelp. Ignoring the fact that the stranger's hands were shaking violently.

The stranger is now facing you. While his hand was still gripping yours tightly, to the point where you were in pain. "P- please help me!"

You let out a harsh sigh. "No, i won't help you. Thanks to your very impolite behavior.”

“W- w- wait! What do you mean?! This is urgent, and you must help me!” The audacity, you curse him in your mind.

“I said no!” Those three words managed to make him angry instantly.

“You—you should know your place! Is it because you managed to tempt The Doctor with your body and face means you can do whatever you want?!” You winced at his words, it felt like you were being stabbed by a knife, even though you know that it's all not true.

“If you will not tell that crazy man to free my friend—I will cut off your head, and present it to him.” You just looked at him in disgust thinking that he was a strange man. A disgusting strange man.

“Fuck off!” You yell at him.

Long story short, you managed to release his grip. But you couldn't help but notice the bruise on your wrist. You are increasingly annoyed and decide to end all this in an ‘inelegant’ way; using your heels, you stomp on his feet full of revenge. It should hurt a lot, you think.

And when you saw his reaction of pain and screaming, you immediately ran as fast as you could. Your body feels like it's on autopilot when you subconsciously search for someone you know too well— A tall and pale skin man, with light blue and slightly wavy hair, which makes anyone know his identity. And makes anyone afraid and even begs for mercy.

And there he was, standing straight with his hands behind his back like always.

“—tore,” Your breath hitches but tries to reach for his name.

“Dottore!” The man— Dottore looked at you quickly, as if he had been looking for you all along. He opened his arms, making room for you to fall into his embrace again. And you (will) happily return to his arms.

“Zandik!” You call his name once again, as if it were a spell that could make you happy for eternity. “Yes, dear?”

He lifted your chin, making you look up at him. His hand moved to wipe away a few tears that had fallen. Ah, since when have i cried? Why did i cry?

“What happened?” His calm voice made you shudder. You tightened your grip on his white lab jacket. And you know it won't cause him any pain.

You shake your head. "Nothing happened."

“Something happened,” His other hand, covered in a glove made especially for him, is now cupping your cheek. And his other hand, stroking your hair. “Am i right?”

The words are reluctant to come out and get stuck in your throat. You were too afraid to answer, too afraid to imagine what would happen to that stranger.

Silence enveloped the room. You only feel warmth, whether because of the heater in the room or because of Dottore's touch.

Knowing there would be no answer from you, dottore sighed. He placed you to sit on his desk. The desk was a little messy because of the papers, but there was still a place for you to sit.

Dottore's head lifted so he could see your face and what expression you were wearing right now— scared, with traces of tears.

His hand again rose to cup your cheek, then traced every curve on your face that he thought was beautiful. The touch felt strangely soft. Knowing that it was a touch from The Doctor— someone who had killed many people in order to achieve perfect experimental results.

And when he was about to hold your hand, he noticed something. A bruise on your wrist, a fucking bruise. That somewhat pissed him off.

“Who did this to you?” You can easily tell that he is angry, by the way he talks and the questions he asks.

“It’s— it’s just a random bruise i got—” “Stop lying.”

You were silenced quickly.

“You’re always been patient when other people try to take advantage of you,” Dottore's calm voice was whispery. If he knew about it all along, why did he continue to comply with your request?

Dottore closed his eyes for a moment, trying to connect the dots. “Someone asked you for help again? And you refuse, then they gets angry?” You nod.

“Is it a new employee?” You nod again.

“Tell me about them.” You told him straight away.

Dottore nodded. He noted it in his mind.

Out of sudden, you cupped Dottore's face. Cold, is the first thing that comes to your mind. Everything about him was cold, and so was his skin. You saw his pale face, but you couldn't guess what expression he had behind his mask.

As if he could read your mind, he took off the mask that covered part of his face. He put the mask right next to you.

“You’re not angry?” You ask, breaking the silence.

“Why?”

“Because i touch you– i touch your face.”

“Foolish question. Absolutely no.”

Dottore's hand covered yours that was touching his face. Maybe dottore can see your cheeks are a little red right now. Maybe now that stranger is scared right now that you managed run away.

You kissed Dottore's forehead as a thank you.

“I'll take care of it quickly.” And you can't imagine what experiments Dottore would do to the stranger.

#konstelasiv fanfic #dottore x reader #dottore fluff #genshin dottore x reader #dottore x you #dottore x y/n #dottore x female reader #il dottore x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin scenarios #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin fluff #genshin dottore #genshin hcs

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messylustt · 1 year

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݁ 𓂃 ៸៸៸ naive — rafe cameron + reader ( outer banks ) : your stepbro shows you what guys want.

contents : readers a bit of a bimbo, manipulative rafe, stepcest, use of 'good girl', fingering; kissing. wc 2.1k.

it started off as small touches. brushes across the arm when walking through the kitchen or taps on the shoulder when rafe wanted your attention.

but it gradually grew to more, like caresses on the head, whenever rafe thought you did something well. or a hand on your thigh when you’d both sit.

you’d brushed it off as rafe just showing affection to his stepsister, but you soon grew to realise that rafe never showed affection. least of all to his family. so the special touches and words of praise started to confuse you. so, much so that you confronted him one time.

“can i ask you something, rafe?” you were in the doorway to his room, tapping on the door to alert him of your presence.

rafe looked up from some clothes he was packing or unpacking (or something), nodding for you to continue.

“why are you so…nice to me?” you didn’t know how else to put it.

rafe straightens, letting his gaze wander your body as he assumably thinks. “why do you ask?”

“well,” you begin, playing with the hem of your sweatshirt. “you seem to pay more attention to me then the rest of the family.”

rafe then walks closer, tilting your chin up between his fingers, as it had fallen to gaze at your socks. you meet his gaze, innocent eyes awaiting his answer.

rafe stared at you, his gaze dragging across your features slowly. “do you not like that?”

“well—“ you cut yourself off stepping slightly back sighing. “i don’t know. i just find it strange. that’s all.”

rafe nods to himself. “what do specifically find strange?” he asks.

you lick your lips, swaying your head in thought. “your compliments.” you decide on.

“when i compliment you?” rafe re-asks. you nod. “can’t i compliment my stepsister?”

“well…yes.” you pause, thinking to yourself that you may have overreacted. “i guess you can.” you straighten, brushing your hair behind you. “no worries, forget i said anything.” you smile, beginning to head to your room. “night, rafe.”

“sleep well, y/n.” rafe watches you leave, gaze wandering down your thin tank top and loose shorts.

;;

you were laughing with some guy you had met at a party, a kook friend’s house filled with booze and flashing lights.

“how does that even make sense?” you laugh.

the guys smile had widened as he watched you, shaking his head. “that’s what I want to know.”

rafe watched from afar, sipping a beer bottle. your outfit choice was showing a little more skin then you’d usually, capturing the attention of the kook beside you. the guy had managed his hand onto your thigh as you giggled at a joke he uttered.

rafe tilted his head. he knew you knew practically nothing about what this guy wanted from you. rafe knew that your naivety would get you in trouble.

you weren’t ready for boys like the kook slowly drawing closer. rafe didn’t want your first experience to be a tipsy one with a quick-fuck walk-away. he couldn’t let that happen to his stepsister.

so, he pushed off the wall nearing you. you felt a hand rest on your shoulder. looking up you spotted rafe. he tilted his head to the side, silently telling you talk to him.

you shift your gaze back to the guy, who had grown disappointed at the fact that you were clearly leaving. “sorry.” you spoke before standing up, pulling down your skirt.

rafe ushered you into the dark hallway, free from any drunk people. you halted, as rafe partly leaned against the wall, gazing down at you. “are you alright?” you ask sweetly.

rafe just bit the inside of his cheek as the moonlight streaked across your chest, your shirt tight enough that he could see your nipples peaking through. “you chose not to wear a bra?”

you look down, taking in your bra less state. “they were all in the wash.” you shrugged.

so naive—rafe thought to himself. “you should have asked to borrow one, from sarah or somgthing. it’s not good to walk around like that.” rafe hovered one thumb over your nipple, as he held your gaze.

your brows furrow. “is it not?”

rafe shakes his head. “no.” he says, licking his bottom lip. rafe shifts his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

you knew nothing about what the many boys on this island wanted to do to you. and rafe felt bad that you knew so little. his fingers had drifted to stroke your cheek a fraction. “this outfit too…is a little much.”

your brows again furrow, thinking the skirt and top was a nice combo. rafe catches your partially sad expression. “i’m only saying this because i want to take care of my stepsis.” rafe softly spoke.

rafe grabbed your chin again. “you know that right?”

rafe paused for a moment, just breathing. “let’s go home.”

you slightly frowned. “it’s okay. i’ll see you there later.”

but rafe shook his head. “i can’t leave you alone here.” and he doesn’t elaborate further, grabbing your hand and leading you out of the party.

;;

when you both got home, shutting the front door noiselessly, rafe’s thoughts had been running wild.

he hated the thought that if he wasn’t there that guy could have taken advantage of you. touched you when you weren’t ready to be.

he had paused on that thought though, as he walks behind you up the stairs. you’d need to know what to do in those situations at some point. those sexual situations, where you’d need to know what you liked and disliked.

you’d both reached the hallway when rafe grabbed your hand again, pulling you into his room.

rafe wanted your first time to be good and comfortable. and no better person than the one your the most comfortable with.

“rafe?” you questioned as he shut the door.

“shh.” rafe whispered, as he stepped closer to you.

you slightly shuffled back at how swift the action had been, your legs hitting against his bed. rafe was then pressing himself against you, brushing the hair away from your face. your pretty big eyes stared back, as he smiled.

“did you know what that guy was wanting from you?” rafe asked.

“um. he just wanted to give me a drink and talk. he had this funny story—“ rafe cuts you off chuckling.

“no, of course you didn’t.”

rafe began to slowly push you onto his bed, his body staying close. he found a position where his knees were either side of you, your head hitting the duvet. “what are you doing?” you ask, brows furrowed.

“i want to help you.” rafe answers, staring down at you.

“with what?”

“you want to be good at many things, don’t you?”

you scoff. “everyone wants to be good at many things.”

rafe smiles. “i want to help you be good at something.”

“something in your room?”

“something in my room.” rafe confirms, his breath hitting your face. “something that guy wanted to do.”

your brows furrowed. “what did he want to do?”

“can i show you?” rafe asked, to which you nodded, your curiosity getting the better of you.

rafe then leant down, his breath hitting your mouth. he grinned before wrapping his lips around your bottom lip. you gasped, not expecting this. rafe takes the opportunity of your open mouth to dive his tongue in, lapping at your own.

you had slowly began to kiss back, making rafe groan in approval. his hands now rested by your head, caging you in. for breath, and only for breath did Rafe break away. you’re panting. “w-what was that for?” you gulp.

“that was lesson one. you did very good.”

your thighs had begun to press together at his compliment. rafe immediately noticed, his chest picking up a pace.

but then you shake your head. “wait. but step-siblings don’t…kiss.”

“they don’t?” rafe asks, beginning to place kisses along your jaw.

“isn’t it…wrong?” your mouth has begun to open in pleasure as rafe sucked on your neck, his hand slipping to your hair, for a better grip, and to tilt your head how he wanted.

“i think it is.” you mutter, as your hand had lifted to grip his hair.

with your tight grip rafe moaned into your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “no.” rafe leant back, grabbing the hem of your shirt and letting it rest up by your neck.

the cold air hit your already peaked nipples making your squirm. rafe dragged his thumb over nipple making your body shiver. he then began to massage your tit, his breathing stuttering. "this isn't wrong. does it feel wrong?"

your mouth stayed hung open as rafe pinched your nipple when you didn't respond. "it feels..." you drift off as rafe leans down.

he darts his tongue out to lick your nipple making your gasp. his finger circles the other as he looks up to meet your eyes. "good." rafe finishes for you. he then grabs your chin as your head had lolled to the side.

"this is what that guy wanted to do." rafe says, continuing to circle your nipple. "why you shouldn't walk around without a bra."

rafe leans down again, to lick and bite at your nipple. your back had begun to arch into him, a pressure forming between your legs. "you won't do that again, right?" rafe asks gently.

you partially nod, as pleasure runs through your veins. "good girl." rafe praises, making the heat between your legs much more prominant. "you're always good for me, aren't you?"

your bottom lip began to hurt with how hard you were biting it. "such a good little stepsis." he whispered, before sucking on your nipple.

"oh—god, i—" you try, some sense of you feeling shame. he was your stepbrother. step-siblings don't act like this. you begin to try and push away, to which rafe just grabs your hands in a tight lock, continuing to lick and kiss your tit. "you know what else he wanted to do?" rafe asked, leaning back to meet your gaze.

your cheeks are flushed. "i don't think I want to know." you whisper. "because we shouldn't..." you gulp. "we shouldn't be this close."

"my dad gets to choose a favourite, why can't i?" rafe asks, pushing your skirt up. rafe hums in approval at seeing the wet patch that had formed on your panties. you go to shut your legs, growing embarrassed, but rafe intercepts, spreading your legs wider.

"no, no. keep them wide for me." rafe says, looming over you again. his hand dipped down, two fingers beginning to rub your clothed pussy. your mouth opened in a mix of shock and pleasure. rafe leaned down to your ear, whispering. "this is what he wanted to do."

you gulped, the feeling spreading through your entire body. "b-but he can, he's allowed."

"is he?"

"well..." you begin as rafe bypasses your panties, spreading your wetness around, making a noise slip from your lips. "it's fine if he t-touched me like this." you gulp.

"so, just because i'm your stepbrother, you think that me touching you is wrong?" rafe asks, circling over your clit.

you shakily nod. rafe chuckles, inserting one finger. you clench your fists, your hands still stuck in rafe's hold. "but it feels...good. doesn't it?" rafe asked, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss.

he leans slightly back, just hovering. "doesn't it?" he had begun to pump his finger in and out of you. he bites your lip making you squirm as your chest heaves.

"i know it does." rafe says. a look of shame had covered your features, because it did feel nice.

rafe pecks your lips, catching your expression. "it’s okay. i'm just helping you. your older stepbro should teach you things, right?"

"yeah." he answers himself almost absentmindely, pushing a second finger in. your walls were clenched around him, pleasure now clouding majority of your shame.

rafe had quickened his pace, your whimpers filling his ears. "you have to tell me if you like this." rafe breathes. "in bed you have to tell them what you want—what you like."

"so, tell me," rafe began, hitting your g-spot repeatedly. "how does this feel?"

"good..." you mutter out, your brows pinched in pleasure. "so good...so good."

rafe grinned, running his thumb over your clit. "rafe. i’m gonna—"

rafe kisses you, hard, as he keeps the pace. when the pleasure hits, you're jolting beneath him, open mouth against his. "christ." you whisper as your high slowly dissapates.

rafe smiled against your lips, finally drawing his fingers out. “let me help you." he whispered partly to you and partly to himself. “let me help you learn.”

#. ( psychos )#the rafe effect #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe imagine #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe fanfiction #outer banks #outerbanks smut #stepbro #stepsis #stepcest #stepbro!rafe #smut

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obbystars · 1 month

Text

Encounter Nihilism

Synopsis: “Just because they don’t have any eyes doesn’t mean they don’t have other senses. Come on, you should know that by now.” Z-13 (Sebastian Solace)

Notes: Not exactly a Sebastian Solace x Reader fic but you can read it as such / read When Light Fades before reading this / Reader deaths, nothing too angsty though / Sebastian being an asshole (and we love him for it) / Experimental deaths + cutting off limbs / Brief angst at the end / may be a tad bit shorter than my usual (it bothers me)

Credits: dividers by @cafekitsune

(Is it obvious this is self indulgent? I really love When Light Fades, super proud of it. I haven’t decided if I’m gonna take this concept and use it for an OC yet, but oh boy, it’s getting strong. Anyway, this fic’s meant to explore more on the reader featured in When Light Fades while also continuing to experiment with Sebastian’s character.)

As you swam to the next door, you hear strange noises coming from the other side. It’s not the Good People, they can’t come into the flooded rooms. It doesn’t sound like an angler either. You continued forward and the next door slid open. Your eyes widened at the sight of the creature on the other side as it looked at you.

Panicked, you try to climb into a locker. You don’t make it in time as you feel its tentacles wrap around your head to crush your diving mask, but that isn’t what kills you. The creature manages to trick the operator behind the PDG by attempting to remove it, causing immediate detonation.

You woke up with a gasp in an all too familiar room.

“I heard that,” Sebastian leans on his hand as his lure flickers on, “What’d you run into this time… Ah,”

You looked down as he slides over the document. An image of the creature you encountered is shown and beside it was another photo that was redacted. Maybe in another death you’ll see what that other photo is.

Nihilism was the codename Urbanshade had given it. A lot of the text within the first page was left redacted, and only a few lines were on the second page were visible.

“If by chance any operative encounters Z-8 within any flooded rooms, it is advised to remain still and turn off any light source currently in possession. Wait for Z-8 to pass.”

That was the only line you were able to read. Sebastian begins to tap his finger against the desk. You sit back and he takes that as the signal you’re done, but it’s not like you read much anyway.

He sighs as he closes the document, “Think of if as Red Light, Green Light. Surely you’ve played that game before,”

“Ugh, this feels worse than Pandemonium…” you groaned, leaning on the table.

“Pretend you’re a corpse floating in the water. That should be pretty easy for you, yeah? I mean, you have died quite a lot,”

“Screw you…”

Upon your next life, you find yourself in the trench tunnels about 20 doors in. It was an area in Hadal Blacksite you despised since it showed you that the anglers can attack from the front. You stepped out of the locker once the angler passed by and turned on your flashlight. There’s no squiddles in this room so you decided to look through the drawers for anything useful.

In the corner of your eye, you swear you saw something moving in the dark water. It wasn’t the Eyefestation as you didn’t see a green glow. Instead, it was Z-8. You freeze once you finally realized it, and you clicked your flashlight off. They looked like they were just passing by, but they suddenly turned to look at your general direction. Did they somehow sense you turning it off?

“Are you alive?”

You actually freeze up this time. It was a voice inside your head, but it wasn’t like Eyefestation where it tried to mimic the voice of the person in the PA. This was its own voice.

“I can sense you there,”

You start taking shallow breaths, almost resorting to holding it.

“Don’t worry. I can’t reach you. But when I do, it’s not personal,” it continues, “We’re both fighting for what we want, right? Freedom from this place?”

You try to not listen, thinking it’s only try to persuade you into meeting up with it. Maybe even striking up some sort of deal.

“I wish this wasn’t how we met, but I owe Sebastian. This is my favor to him,” its tone suddenly changes, “We can’t let you get that crystal,”

“…they owe Sebastian?” You whispered to yourself.

The Eyefestation suddenly emerges from the dark, and Z-8 swims out of her way as her eyes turned red. A new voice cried inside your head, pleading for you to look into its eyes. The next thing you knew, you were back in the room with Sebastian who stifled a laugh as he slides over the document to you. You had questions concerning what Z-8 had said, but maybe now’s not the right time to ask.

“For unknown reasons, Z-8 is somehow able to communicate with Z-317 “The Eyefestation.” Should operatives see Z-8 outside the windows, or hear its voice, DO NOT LISTEN and keep moving forward as they cannot reach you. They have already called “The Eyefestation” and are trying to keep you in the room.”

Sebastian closes the document, still trying to keep himself from laughing, “A tag-team! Who would’ve thought, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, “I can’t believe that’s how I died,”

“Like a deer in headlights,” he smirks as he leans closer, “Happens to all of us, but man, I thought you’d be used to seeing that shark considering the amount of times you looked at her,”

“She just startled me! I’d love to look at her if she wasn’t able to kill me just by making me look at her,” you shrugged, “She is a beautiful shark,”

Sebastian gives you an odd look and groans, “Get out of here already,”

“Fair enough,”

The next few deaths to Z-8 were more of trial and error. In your most recent death, you learned the hard way that Z-8 does not like the flash beacon and did not hesitate to detonate your PDG. You felt like it was a strange reaction considering it took them a moment to even react when you used any other light source.

“Got grabbed again, did ya?” Sebastian laughed.

He then slides the document to you, now revealing the entire document with some text still left redacted. Some documents contained those, such as his own, and you learned to stop caring about it. At least it wasn’t like the Multi-Monster. Previously redacted photo was now uncovered. A person whose face was obscured.

Z-8 - Codename: Nihilism. Real name: ▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇

In early 2011, five LR-Ps were selected to be a part of an experiment to achieve immortality. Out of the five selected, only Z-8 survived the first round of tests. Z-9, Z-10, Z-11, and Z-12 all succumbed to different effects as each subject was given a different dosage. Although Z-8 survived, they were not immune to the effects their dosage brought. As a result, the experiment was left on hold until researchers found a better source to reach the desired goal.

By 2013, the experiment resumed using the immortal jellyfish as originally planned along with the mimic octopus, the ▇▇▇, and ▇▇▇▇. Z-8 was used again for the next test and hasn’t experienced any side effects on the first day. Two days later, a guardsman escorting Z-8 noticed they have been stumbling and bumping into the walls. On the seventh day, Z-8 had gone completely blind. However, it has been noted that Z-8 is capable of sensing where there is light and where someone is even if they are not moving.

Z-8 soon began to struggle walking and can’t seem to have a tight grip. It didn’t take very long for them to lose all feeling in their arms and legs. They were still able to move their torso as well as their head. They were still capable of speech, but Z-8 has been refusing to talk.

Z-8 was meant to be executed due to the state they were in, but thirty minutes after their heart seemingly stopped, it soon started to beat again. They wake up an hour later as if they had just taken a nap with all of their memories still intact, but Z-8 still cannot see and still cannot walk or move their arms. This resulted in having to move Z-8’s location into a more suitable cell for testing.

Z-8 has endured 5 deaths before changes in their body started becoming clear. Shortly after, testing and studying the regenerative properties Z-8 should have began. Due to poor execution during the procedures, Z-8 ended up enduring 7 more deaths. By the 4th death, a new side effect to Z-8’s resurrection was noted. Upon death, coral (polyps) begins to form on their body.

Their body soon takes the form of a humanoid jellyfish, leading to having to relocate them again. Z-8 no longer turns to others when they are near until they shine a light. The behavior they show gives the impression they like the light and often try to follow it, sometimes moving their head or even their entire body.

Z-8 will then be used to study the regenerative properties further until it can be refined in a way that is desirable.

Before the lockdown was in effect, Z-8 was going to be sold at The Anomalous Auctions as Z-8 had been deemed of no monetary value, nor can be used for work. 5 hours into the lockdown, camera footage caught Z-13 transporting Z-8 to an unknown location.

If by chance any operative encounters Z-8 within any flooded rooms, it is advised to remain still and turn off any light source currently in possession. Wait for Z-8 to pass.

DO NOT move as Z-8 can sense you nearby, but they can’t differentiate between a corpse and a living person until you move.

Turn off any and all light sources in your possession as Z-8 can sense it and become curios. Your window to turn it off is narrow, but it’s still wide enough to not raise their suspicion.

There is a chance where operatives may find Z-8 roaming in a dark flooded room with S-Q. If the room prior has lights on, Z-8 will go into that room. It is safe to move in the dark room as Z-8 cannot tell the difference between you and the S-Q.

For unknown reasons, Z-8 is somehow able to communicate with Z-317 “The Eyefestation.” Should operatives see Z-8 outside the windows, or hear its voice, DO NOT LISTEN and keep moving forward as they cannot reach you. They have already called “The Eyefestation” and are trying to keep you in the room.

Unlike Z-13, operatives are instructed to contain Z-8 as it is impossible for the subject to stay dead.

You’re not exactly sure what to say to all of this. Sebastian is being much quieter than usual too, not even closing the document when you sat back. You look up at him, building up the courage to speak.

“So that’s what they meant when they said they owe you…”

“They don’t owe me anything,” his voice lowered into a growl, “It was their choice to stay much like that shark,”

You look down at the document again and sighed, “Kinda feels like there’s much more than that,”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

You sighed again as you stood up to leave. Sebastian watches you go and looks back down at the document, then closes it without another word.

#🌑 // the moon provides #i actually dont know how the science works #just pretend that i do lol #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian x reader #sebastian solace #roblox pressure sebastian #roblox #roblox pressure #pressure #pressure sebastian

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hedgehog-moss · 2 years

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The story of my 3-year-long quest to identify a very rare bird

So I've been trying almost since I moved here to figure out what bird made this strange call that I sometimes heard near my house:

I tried to google "european bird that sounds like a laughing hyena?" and also to imitate the noise over the phone for a friend who once took an online bird course, but she had no idea. (Well, she said "that's a hyena." I said, "but I hear it all the time! Near my house!! Wait I'll do it better." She said, please stop making a hyena noise :(( and I stopped because the cats thought I was losing my mind)

Eventually I managed to record the actual bird call on my phone, and used a Shazam app for birds—but once again, no luck. The first app I tried just assumed it was being trolled and was like "it's you, isn't it? That's not a bird that's your stupid human laugh, you're making fun of me. I'm not an idiot"

The second birdsong app was more insecure and apologised a lot for failing to identify my bird. I thought it must be a rare bird! (The only uncommon bird I know of in this region is the vulture but it sounds less like a hyena and more like if elephants were birds.) Every time I heard the call (usually during the day) I opened the window trying to a) get a better recording so my app would finally have an epiphany, and b) see something flying off a tree.

At one point I was cutting brooms in the pasture and heard the call very loudly, as if the bird was just a few metres away, and it wasn't coming from the sky. I googled every possible version of "flightless (?) bird that nests in thorny bushes?" and found nothing, and started wondering if it was actually a mammal. But I couldn't think of any plausible local mammal that would make this sound—definitely not a fox or badger, who say WAOOHHH, and nothing like the polite whistle of marmots. We've got pine martens in the woods and I found a video called "mating pine marten scream bark" and thought oh!! that must be it! ... but then I listened to it and it sounded like yiiiaaaaaeeeeee, like if you stepped on a baby banshee's toe, nothing at all like the heheeheuruurhh of a hyena who just heard a good joke.

Anyway, this morning I was in the pasture and I once again heard the hyena laugh! I was standing by the moose butler tying up the hay net, away from any trees or shrubs and the call came from just behind me. I turned around thinking there was absolutely no way for the mystery bird to hide, it had landed on the ground behind me and this time I was going to see it!

And

it was HER:

Absolutely no doubt. I saw Pampy's throat vibrating along with the last echoes of the hyena laugh. All these years I've been saying that llamas are very quiet animals who just make cute little "hum-hum" sounds (I rarely hear adult llamas humming to one another, it's mostly for mother llamas to communicate with their baby and with me) and I had no idea that the shrieking hyena-bird I occasionally heard outside my house was Pampelune! I googled "llama alarm cry" and immediately found youtube videos featuring llamas making this exact sound. There was a stray dog nearby this morning that Pandolf eventually chased away, so maybe Pampy was the first to hear him and sounded the alarm. Maybe she uses this cry to tell Pan to go do his guard dog job, because he left the pasture and ran into the woods when she made the sound (while I was turning round like "aha! you can't run, hyena-bird!")

I wanted to share this discovery! I've had llamas for nearly 4 years and I'm only now finding out that they can laugh like hyenas when the situation calls for it. I feel bad for the poor birdsong app that I've repeatedly gaslighted feeding it a llama call and insisting that it identify this bird for me while it hung its head in shame like "I swear I don't have your bird in my database. I'm so sorry. I'm a bad app."

Llamas are fascinating creatures. Please experience their majestic alarm call again, and be alarmed:

#crawling along #you can look it up on youtube if you want to check with your own eyes (and ears)#i would understand the scepticism. it seems like such a random sound for llamas to make!#also as i started writing this post i thought i'd check what hyenas actually sound like and #it's not like that at all ! i assumed they had a mean-spirited cackle because of the lion king i think #when really it's more of a charming good-natured giggle

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subbmissivesuccubus · 1 year

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Thinking of Uzui and Rengoku falling in love with you at first sight.

They're out on a mission, several demons sighted at a village and the number was so high they needed multiple people to come and fix the problem. Of course, it was a cake walk for the two of them. Their weapons flashing under the moonlight as it cut through the necks of their enemies like butter, demon after demon falling to their blade.

Despite the task being easy, it still took a few hours so by the time the job was done, they were a bit tuckered out. Every demon was slain- or so they thought.

A demon burst from the rubble, it's sharp claws aiming for Rengoku's face. It was too fast, neither of the Hashira able to react in time as the demon was but a centimeter away from clawing Rengoku's eyes out when you showed up.

Using your breath of Thunder, you cracked through the air like a lightning strike, covering ground within seconds as you managed to cut off the demon's arm before cutting its head off, saving your senior of any injury.

You put away your weapon as the demon disintegrated in front of you, bowing down respectfully to the two pillars, a ranking you hoped to reach one day. They recognized you, having seen you out and about before but this was the first time they'd seen you in action.

Both of their hearts skipped a beat. Beautiful, talented and powerful woman was a plenty within the demon slayer corporation but there was something about you that was just...different. Perhaps it was your kind heart in helping the wounded. Perhaps it was the confidence you carried yourself with. Perhaps it was because you were just too darn cute. But whatever the reason may be, they were enamored by you and couldn't keep their eyes off of you.

Once you helped the others in cleaning up and getting the wounded the help they need, you went back to the two Hashira who were strangely dazed.

"I shall get going now." you reported with a bow, "I'm glad I could be of service."

"Marry me." both of them said simultaneously.

"...huh?"

Thinking of Uzui and Rengoku roping you into sexual escapades as a form of 'training'

You had rejected their marriage proposal, stating that while you respected them, you didn't know them personally and didn't want a husband(s) that you weren't fond of.

They were respectful of that, stating that a great way to get to know each other would be through training. You thought it was unbelievable that two Hashira's were interested enough in you to take time of their schedules to train with you, much less want to marry you, but you decided to agree. Learning from the best would be an invaluable experience, afterall.

"I-I- thought you said we were gonna t-train!" You squealed, tossing your head back against the pillow as Uzui slid a second finger inside you, your pussy gushing around him.

You could barely recollect how you got here, a room in an inn, at the mercy of your two seniors. Your mind was a jumbled mess as their hands and lips attacked your body, hungry kisses against your neck while stripping you of your uniform. Time seemed to go by fast yet slow at the same time, eventually ending up on a bed with Rengoku sucking your breasts while Uzui made himself familiar with your pussy.

"It is training." the sound Hashira said with a smirk, curling his fingers inside you just right, making you gasp. He stuffed his fingers of his other hand into your mouth, making you choke.

"This is to help your technique." he said, "Control yourself and focus on your breathing."

As he said that, Rengoku's lips left your nipple, leaving it a saliva covered stiff bud before moving down and taking your clit into his mouth, making you scream around Uzui's fingers. Your body shook from the pleasure, never having experienced this before.

You knew their claim that this was for training was complete bullshit but dammit- you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Uzui was so deliciously huge compared to you. He was twice your size, his muscular body enveloping you completely as he toyed with your body with ease. His bulging muscles and washboard abs made you drool, your eyes wandering to his nether regions, pussy growing wetter when you saw a big bulge straining against his pants.

Rengoku ran hot, literally. His touch made you shiver as he ran his warm hands over your body, a comforting contrast to the way his hot tongue was assaulting your clit. He sucked on it like a candy, flicking it around before giving it a gentle nibble, making you squeal. With a physique just as impressive as Uzui's, his bright eyes filled with passion and desire made you feel dizzy.

"Focus." Uzui said with a click of his tongue, pushing his fingers further down your throat, making you gag, "you're getting distracted."

'I can't help it!' You tried to defend, but what came out was a bunch of gurgles and gags, unable to say anything.

"If you can't handle this," Rengoku said, giving your clit a sweet kiss before he straightened himself up, "what will you do if a demon attacks you and tries to choke you?"

"Exactly~" Uzui cooed, starting to move his fingers in and out of your throat, a slower rhythm from what he was doing to your cunt, "Bring your breathing under control and maybe, we'll let you cum~"

#subby writes #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba smut #rengoku kyojuro #kny rengoku #rengoku x reader #rengoku x reader x uzui #rengoku smut #rengoku kyojuro smut #tengen uzui #uzui x reader #kny uzui #uzui smut #uzui tengen smut

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ja3hwa · 1 year

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♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟒: 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐒.𝐌𝐆 ♡

Intoxicated

【sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs】 : Your friend needed your help with trying out one of her experiments, and let's just say Mingi was about to never let you leave the bedroom ever again because of it.

『ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ』 : 1.21k

-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Wolf Au. Fantasy. Suggestive.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Wolf!Mingi x Wolf!Reader [Mates]

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : Scenting. Lowkey scent play. Mention of glands. Pet names. Heavy manhandling. Mingi has kinda lost his mind from lust. Oral. The reader is literally littered in teeth marks and hickeys (whoops). Unprotected sex. Videoing. Sex tape. Swearing.

Thank you, @hwasangelbaby, for requesting Mingi for this day... I'll miss you. ♡

Note : Hi. So I've been hit with some sickness over night and I didn't get time to finish this but I wanted to post something. So I'm sorry that I'm leaving you all high and dry. I promise the next one will be good. ♡♡♡

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“Just try it, trust me.” The voice of one of the she-wolves replayed in your head as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You had just had a shower, getting ready for the day when you were reminded of the perfume that was given to you for an experiment. You see Dove, the she-wolf, had been learning potion-making from Yeosang, and had asked you to be a test subject. At first, you said no, because let's face it, you weren't about to take something that could possibly hurt you, curse you or kill you. But after she explained herself, you decided to help her. So here you standing with a suspicious perfume in your hand, placing it slowly on the spots she mentioned, ‘Place it on your glands, wrists and just behind your ear’.

“Okay…” You sighed to yourself, rubbing in the liquid. Now, what might this do, you may ask, according to Dove it was a pheromone enhancer, a chemical to open your mating glands and potentially helps you find your soul mate quicker. But before Dove gives this to an un-mated creature, she wanted to see if mates would still become more crazed by said smell. So she asked you, since you were mated to Song Mingi, one of the guards and a member of the leader circle, she knew his reaction would be worth it.

Mingi was expected home any minute, and honestly, you were shaking with nerves. You didn’t know what the smell would do and worry clouded your judgement. And what’s worse was you couldn’t smell it yourself. Since the liquid was unscented and only activated with your scent you have no clue what it smelt like on yourself since it's your own scent. So you sat in your matching shorts and shirt PJ set with little pink hearts as buttons on the front of it. Your fingers were tangled in the hem of your shorts fiddling with the fabric until you suddenly heard a deep voice echo through the home.

“Darling I’m Hom―.” He quickly cut himself off at the sudden whiff of the most intoxicated, sweet scent. It was like his brain cut off, leaving one the animal nature conscious. He began to stalk the bedroom. You couldn’t hear a thing given he was like a silent stalker, only letting his prey know he was there when it was too late.

“Mingi...Is that you?” You gulped having heard your lover's voice before it was strangely cut off. Was he okay? Can he already smell you? What if he left thinking it smelt bad? A million reasons slipped in and out of your mind making you go to stand up but before you could do anything a large snarl and broad figure appeared in the bedroom door frame. “M-Min…”

Mingi rumbled lowly, making your wolf cry out for his. You instantly felt the urge to strip yourself for him, let him have his way with you. But you stayed still awaiting for your lover to speak. He took only three large steps to reach you on the edge of the bed. You could finally see his features and it only made you whimper seeing his eyes were pitch. Dark with lust, and his nose flared taking in more of your scent. Your hand slowly moved to grab his and the minute your fingers grazed his palm he snapped. His hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you up while his other arm gripped around your waist, holding your body flush against him. His nose brushes against your bond mark, the mark that symbolizes you were his and he, yours. He took a big inhale, taking in your new enhanced scent.

“My pretty little wolf.” was all he said before gripping the front of your top and ripping all the buttons open, making them scatter everywhere. His mouth latches onto your mark, biting down, hard, making you scream out in the sudden painful pleasure. He grunted against your skin pulling away to see a new mark on top of the old scared one. He wanted to do it more, make you riddled in his love bits, hickeys…. teeth marks. The sheer idea of his teeth marks all over your smooth figure made his blood go straight to his cock. “Mine.”

He lifted you up to kiss along your bare collarbone, nibbling slightly on the top of your exposed beasts. You were standing on your tiptoes so he could reach your nipples, suckling them with care. To say you were in an awkward position was an understatement but you stayed like that purely for Mingi’s pleasure and as his hands snaked onto either side of your hips letting him rut his erection against your tummy. You knew you needed to move. “Min..B-bed.”

He grunted in response, removing his lips from you, lifting his hands onto his own hips so he could watch you crawl onto the bed. You never broke eye contact with him, slipping off your shorts and panties, you spread your legs so he could get a good view of your soaking core. His eyes danced over your body feeling proud of the hickeys he had left on your chest and neck, but he needed more. More bites, make you covered in him. He pounced on you in an instant, biting any part of skin he could reach in a short amount of time. He sinks his teeth into your flesh, sucking lightly, then licking the wound before moving on. Repeating that process over and over until you were covered in bite marks and harsh red love bites everywhere. “Mingi…Mingi please.” You squirmed, feeling the soreness of the bites but you couldn’t have it any other way. The feeling of each mark aching and the desire to show them off to the world made your head spin.

“My little wolf. So pretty, all marked up.” He bent down to give your thighs a soft kiss, but his hunger surged through him and your scent was driving him crazy. You whimpered feeling his hot breath pool against your pussy. You didn’t realize he was so close to your core until his hot tongue licked a long strip along your folds. “Yours so wet and I haven’t even fucked you yet. You enjoy being covered in my marks. You a dirty little girl hmm?”

His words made your head spin and his lips on your sensitive bud made you lose control. “Mingi, please. just fuck me, do something p-please.”

He chuckled sitting up, letting you go, so he could sit on his calves staring at you. “My god, as if you couldn’t get any more beautiful.” He leaned over your frame grabbing your phone off the counter before opening the camera. “I wanna remember these marks, so when they’re healed I can mark you up. Again….” He took a photo, “And again...” He unzipped his jeans letting his cock out so it could brush against your puffy pussy, then he presses record. “and f-fuck again…” He sunk deep in your cunt groaning out while he recorded his cock slipping in and out. He kept the camera on the way your chest bounced and the marks and hickeys painting you like an art piece.

His art piece.

- ♥︎

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