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#I know what I want but my brain will not comply
bitethedevil · 3 days
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Good Little Mouse (Raphael x Reader/Tav): NSFW Shortfic
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Tags: breeding, mind-control, oral, non-con/dub-con, NSFW, revengefucking, degradation
Summary: Reader/Tav did not give Raphael the Crown but it ended up in his hands anyway. You become Raphael's pet as revenge and he uses the Crown of Karsus on you to keep you docile.
(AN: The devil be deviling in this one. It is extremely fucked up. I don't even know guys. This is some pretty depraved shit. I didn't write this. I was possessed. The devil made me do it, I swear. This isn't who I am.)
WARNINGS: Just fucking all of them, honestly. Non-con/dub-con. Mind-control. Mild Violence. Forced pregnancy. Manipulation and Abusive Behaviour.
NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT
“The poor little thing has been inconsolable since you left,” Haarlep said to Raphael when he entered the boudoir and looked at you with an exaggerated pout.
You barely knew what was going on, since Raphael had you under his power. He used the Crown of Karsus to keep you docile and entirely dependent on him.
Even though you could barely even think, you never confused Haarlep for Raphael. You knew the face of your master. He was your whole world.
“Is that so?” Raphael said gently. He changed into his human form and sat down beside you on the bed. He ran his fingers through your hair and you smiled at his touch. “Did you miss me, sweetling?”
You nodded. He talked to you as if you were a pet. You essentially were: you had a collar with a leash around your neck and you barely had the brainpower to construct a sentence anymore.
If your brain was still working, you would have recognized that he had done all of this as a sick kind of revenge for all the snarky comments and resistance you had given him during your adventures. 
You had denied him at every turn, but you had been stupid enough to leave the Crown in the Chionthar and when Raphael got his hands on it, a reckoning came. You could barely remember any of it. Your whole mind was directed at one thing now: Raphael.
“Can you kiss Haarlep goodbye?” Raphael asked you gently with a smirk on his face as he petted your hair. 
You obediently turned to Haarlep. They threw a disappointed glance at Raphael before kissing you deeply. Their tongue delved into your mouth and their saliva mixed with yours. 
Haarlep let go of the kiss and left the boudoir. You felt the familiar tingle of arousal starting to spread in your abdomen. 
You felt a tug on your leash and your attention turned to Raphael again. He pointed to the spot at his feet.
“On the floor,” Raphael ordered. When you quickly complied, he ran his hand over your hair. 
Your body was on fire. It was by complete instinct when you tried to sneak your hand between your legs. Raphael delivered a swift and firm slap to your cheek for doing so.
“Ah-ah” he warned and pulled your head backwards by your hair so you were looking up at him.
You quickly put your hands on his thighs instead. 
“Good girl,” he praised. “Such a quick learner. What is it that you want, my sweet?”
You just kept looking up at him. You wanted him, but your mind and your mouth failed you. Your mind was mush because of the magic and Haarlep’s spit. 
“Oh, my sweet empty-headed girl,” Raphael cooed with a smile on his face as he caressed your cheek. “You are not as outspoken as you used to be, are you? I think it rather suits you.”
His thumb brushed over your lips.
“No matter…” he purred as you opened your mouth and let his thumb into your mouth. “I think we can put that rude mouth of yours to much better use…don’t you agree?”
You nodded as you eagerly sucked on his thumb. He began undoing his pants with his free hand, his eyes never leaving yours. Your eyes lit up.
“That certainly caught your attention,” Raphael said with a chuckle. He removed his thumb from your mouth and got up from the bed to tower over you. “Open your mouth, dear”
You did.
“Wider…wider…” he ordered, slightly pulling on your jaw. When your mouth was wide open for him, he praised you: “Such a good pet…Now, keep it open like that until I tell you otherwise, understand?”
You nodded.
You kept your mouth wide open and closed your lips around him as his length slid into your mouth. Without any warning, he started fucking your throat in slow but hard thrusts.
It was difficult not to gag around. It hurt and your eyes were tearing up, but you were still looking up at him, hungry for his approval. 
“This…is where you belong, dear,” Raphael said with a smile between groans of pleasure. “All of that energy wasted on trying to humiliate me and deny me…” he groaned as he slid his whole length down your throat. “I knew from the moment we met, from that first little clever comment of yours, that this is where you truly belong…beneath me.”
You had tears and drool down your face from trying to accommodate his length and his forceful thrusts. He withdrew from your mouth and gestured to you that you could close your mouth again. Your jaw ached. He admired your ruined face for a moment before grabbing your leash.
He pulled you up from the floor and into a standing position before bending you over the bed. He ran his hands over your ass. He squeezed your cheeks and spread them to get a better view of your dripping slit.
“So eager,” he purred and brushed a finger lightly over your clit, making you slightly jump because your unbearable arousal had made you so sensitive. He chuckled at your reaction. “Is this where you want my attention, hm?”
He slid a single finger into you and it made you moan softly into the mattress. You nodded eagerly. 
“Use your voice,” he ordered and stopped moving his finger. “Do you want me to continue?”
“Mhm,” was all you could say.
“Good girl,” he praised in that patronizing voice of his and added another finger, making you moan louder and push yourself back onto his fingers.
He bent down to place a few kisses up your back before whispering in your ear:
“Do you want more?”
“Mhm,” you said and nodded.
“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” Raphael purred in her ear before standing up behind you. You heard a snap. “Careful what you wish for.”
You grasped onto the sheets and tried to bite down into the mattress as he slowly entered you. Usually, he at least did you the kindness of only fucking you in his human form. This time he had for some reason changed into his devil form and his length stretched you out to a point where it was painful.
You whined into the sheets and squirmed as his whole length fully entered you. Raphael leaned down to your ear and stroked your side.
“Oh, my sweet, is it too much for you?” Raphael asked in a gentle voice.
You nodded. 
“It hurts, doesn’t it?”
You nodded again.
“Poor little thing,” he purred in your ear. “We could stop, of course. Although that would make me very disappointed…You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you?”
You tensed up. His entire length was inside you and it was way too much…but you wanted his approval. His attention. His love. You wanted nothing more. You lived to serve him.
You shook your head.
“Good,” he said and started slowly thrusting into you. 
You barely had any time to adjust to his size before he picked up the pace. It felt like heaven and hell at the same time. It hurt, but there was also overwhelming pleasure.
It was brutal and it was with a specific goal in mind. Raphael was always determined to cum inside you. 
He let Haarlep play with you, but they were never allowed to use anything but their fingers or their mouth. Only Raphael was allowed to take you like this. You knew there was a reason, but you never truly grasped it with your ruined mind.
“Do you want me to fill you?” Raphael asked between thrusts. “You'll be a good girl and carry my bastards…isn’t that so?”
You nodded.
You heard a cruel chuckle from him and his thrusts became even more brutal. He came inside you with a groan shortly after. He stayed inside you while he caught his breath. 
“Perhaps I’ll send you back to your friends when you start to show, while you are still under my control, so you can happily inform them that you are to become a mother…” Raphael said and left a couple of kisses up your back. “Perhaps I’ll simply let you go with no memory of any of this. Leaving you to wonder why that tiefling child of yours looks an awful lot like that devil you kept spurning during your little adventure…”
He ran his fingers through your hair and kissed the back of your neck. 
“Would you like that, dear?” He purred into your ear. 
You nodded and smiled. You would do anything for him. 
You could feel that he was already hard inside you again and he started slowly thrusting again.
"Good little mouse..."
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cbrownjc · 17 hours
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I apologise in advance for the length. I wanted your take on one specific part of 2x5 that bothered me a little and is partially why my little DM shipper hope wavered (that and being burned by ongoing shows in the past). Both you and @nalyra-dreaming have brilliantly pointed out how the episode does a great job at recreating the horror origin where Daniel is kept in the cellar and I wholeheartedly agree. However, what has bothered me about it is that, in the episode, it is not Armand that chooses to let Daniel live. Granted, in the book it's more a stay of execution than anything else, but it's still his choice alone. In 2x5 that choice is now Louis'. And while I know that in the novel Armand considers Daniel a gift from Louis, part of me is bothered by this slight lack of agency. It felt to me like just another thing Armand did to comply to Louis' wants in his desperation to not lose him. And that any Chase that happens is not necessarily out of genuine curiosity but because Louis called Armand boring and Armand just wants to know what set Daniel apart for Louis.
And then my brain goes "fruit of the poisonous tree" and am then afraid that Daniel's meaning wrt Armand (which, to my great frustration, I have already seen other book readers diminish) will literally be: oh he's just the scraps Armand gets because he couldn't have Louis or Lestat (because of the horrors, he did all of it, etc). I don't WANT it to be that and I guess I'm a little terrified about it.
Idk what to make of any of it and I'm nervous because I REALLY want to see this pairing develop as they deserve. So please, tell me what I'm missing in my rambling and borderline incoherent concern. Help me Obi-Wan Kenobi, you're my sanity's only hope. ^_~
Hi!
Okay, well, I will try to be your Ben Kenobi here, but remember, even he failed to see what was going on with Annikin before it was too late . . .
Yeah, okay that isn't very confidence-giving, is it? 😬 🙃
Anyway! 🤭
Okay, so on the first point:
I have actually seen one or two people point out the fact that it was Louis who basically intervened and stopped Armand from killing Daniel, and Armand didn't do so himself. And I'm not going to say I can't see yours and some other's point about this. All I can say about that point for now is that we don't know what happens right now between Daniel and Armand after Daniel was let go and dropped off at the drug den. Because there might actually come a point when Armand thinks he very well could kill Daniel and Louis would have no idea, as Louis only requests that Daniel live out "this night." There was no request from Louis to Armand for Daniel to live out his whole life.
So we might actually get a moment, in the future, where we see a time when Armand decides to just kill Daniel -- but, just like with Louis in the tunnel back in the 40s -- stays his own hand via his own decision to do so.
So, I think on this point right now, the only thing any of us can do is take a "wait and see" about it. But there are still doors open to Armand deciding on his own to spare Daniel's life in a significant way I think. With him not even being in love with Daniel yet at the time too IMO.
So, on to the second point:
No, I very much do not think Daniel is going to be seen as "scraps" that Armand gets because he couldn't have Louis or Lestat. And I think what is going to come into play to make that clear is the slight change the show has done wrt Armand's character and the Great Laws. After the Children of Darkness/Satan coven busted up, Armand in the book really didn't hold those rules in any high regard anymore. But the show has very clearly changed that, to where Armand was ready to kill Louis because Louis broke many of the Great Laws.
Assad himself made this clear that Armand really was going to kill Louis and only didn't do it because he chose love instead.
And if you take a look at the full list of the Great Laws that someone was amazingly able to translate, as well as this gifset of a specific scene from 2x03, a vampire being with a human in such a way is a direct violation of those laws that Armand in the show clearly holds to.
So for Armand to break that rule and choose to be with Daniel? Will not be a small thing.
So I think that alone will show that Daniel is not just a scrap. Armand's love for Daniel will be so much that he will, once again, ignore a rule he once held fast to in order to, once again, choose love.
And then, of course, there is the fact that Armand chose to actually break his biggest rule of all for Daniel, which is to never turn someone into another vampire -- which is also one of the laws the cult drilled into him. Yes, Armand's main reason for not doing so in the books was because he didn't want to damn someone into vampirism, as well as not believing that the Maker/Fledgling relationship can ever really work. But the other reason that I feel the show will also touch upon will very much also be because of the Great Law that older vampires should never work the Dark Trick upon someone, less that fledgling be too powerful in the blood.
But Armand's love for Daniel will be so great that he will not bear the thought of Daniel actually dying. And so, when the moment comes, he will not only break that Great Law, but his own personal reason why he doesn't want to turn someone. And he would rather face having to truly put his fear and belief about Markers and Feldglings to the side (and maybe still lose Daniel that way -- which in the books, he actually did for a time!) than lose Daniel forever via death.
Again, that has never seemed to me as Daniel just being a "scrap" to Armand, even when it comes to the books. But I expect the show will put an even greater emphasis on this, both when it comes to Armand's backstory and how now Armand in the show actually holds to those laws in a serious way.
So yeah, just some of my thoughts on those two points. I hope they can calm you somewhat but, if not, just know that, because of the format this story is now being told in, that will very much lend to things -- the characters and their relationships with each other -- to be even more fleshed out, along with character arcs to be planned out overall as well. (Which yes, not every TV show does, but this one is clearly doing so.) We won't get every answer to these things right away, but I think there are many doors open to exploring these things in a satisfying way over the course of the show. 🙂
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atherix · 1 year
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Hi guys have a little ficlet? I decided it didn’t fit into the main story so it’s going onto tumblr exclusive status hehe Also I’m lowkey sick right now and I can’t think to write today thanks
CW? I guess? Because some of this comes across as pretty Religious Talk so
--
“Grandfather?”
The King doesn’t look down at the child standing next to him, instead gazing out across the realm, all the way to the sea and what lies beyond. Scar looks up up up at him- distant and so far away, untouchable and cold.
“Yes, my Grandson?” the King speaks, voice soft and flat. 
Scar fidgets with his hands, turning back to look through the balcony railings. “What am I?” he asks after a moment of hesitation, the question echoing oddly around.
There is a moment of silence from the King, and Scar’s heart races.
“You are a Prince,” the King says simply.
“One of the healers you bring here says I should not be,” Scar says carefully, hesitantly. “They say I am not even Fae.”
The King finally looks at him, though Scar doesn’t dare look up. “Yet I, the Fae King, am saying you are a Prince, and you are Fae. Would you take the word of a healer over the word of your Grandfather and King?”
“No!” Scar says quickly, looking up at him. “No, but- is being Human really so bad? That- that some Fae won’t even see me as Fae?”
Despite the suns resting across from one another in the sky, lighting up the world around them, Scar can’t make out the expression on his grandfather’s face. It’s like a shadow is being cast, obscuring him from sight even as he pulls away from the rail, kneeling down in front of Scar. Even nearly on his knees, he’s taller than Scar can ever imagine being.
He reaches out and brushes the loose, wispy strands of Scar’s hair away from his face, almost gentle as he traces the braids. They’re tight, and the ribbons and vines woven through them, tied to a veil in the back, hide just how short his hair is right now. Scar can’t help but lean into his grandfather’s touch despite how cool his skin is.
“You,” the King says, “are you. You are Fae and you are Human. You are both of these at the same time. You are the proof that our world is changing.” The King moves his hand away, setting it on Scar’s shoulder now. Scar watches him quietly. “The Pantheons have a plan for you.”
“How can they have a plan for me?” Scar asks, tilting his head. “How can they have a plan for me when I probably won’t even grow up?”
“Everyone has a role to play,” the King says. “The gods give us these roles. Nothing happens when nothing is done- we cannot stand idly by and wait for it to change. We must act to make the change and fulfill the plan.” He pauses, studying Scar from behind the shadows in his face, and Scar can’t bring himself to ask about his own role. “There are no mistakes in this world. Everything that happens has always been planned. Your birth, your existence is neither accident nor mistake. You have a role to play in this world. It is the role of your family to see you grow, safe and strong, to take on your role. One day, everything will be made clear.”
The King turns away, towards the horizon again. Scar glances over, seeing the suns lowering towards the sea. They cast the world in orange and gold, glimmering and burning.
“Regardless what any person might say to you,” the King says softly, “you are Fae. You are a Prince. You are Human. You are all of these things, and one day you shall be even more.” He looks back at Scar, and for one brief moment Scar sees fire. “All you have to do is wait.”
“Wait?” Scar frowns. “But didn’t you just say...”
The King tilts his head. His smile is cool and distant, but it settles something in Scar’s chest- like comfort, like love, like everything will be just fine.
“One day your waiting will come to an end,” he says. “One day will come the time to stop waiting. Just watch for the signs. You’ll find your place when the time is right. Until then...”
He moves his hand from Scar’s shoulder and stands, gaze back on the horizon and the everything beyond. “Be patient and learn. The answers will present themselves, but you must look for them. Watch and wait until you know your next step, and then...”
“... Act.”
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dailykugisaki · 4 months
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Day 120 | id in alt
Be real. It looks like Itadori and Fushiguro have unholy thin ankles.
(I will be participating in the global strike btw! So no posts until 26 or 27th💥)
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wyvernest · 6 months
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back massages
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pairing: miguel o'hara x college roommate f!reader
warnings: smut, miguel is a bit cocky, unprotected piv, suggestive massages, dry jumping
summary: you give miguel the proverbial back massage, and he returns the favour
"Ugh, my back-" he groans loudly, entering the cramped dorm room and slamming the creaking door shut in frustration.
"Still?" you reply, absent-mindedly, not looking away from your laptop screen and the from project you're working on for tonight's delivery. "Didn't the trellises at the gym help?"
You hear the cot springs coil under his weight as he drops to the bed on his stomach. "Couldn't even use them."
"Hm?" You're still half focused on your research, briefly catching the last words of his replies.
"The gym was full." He groans, shuffling on the mattress.
He is increasingly frustrated with the lack of attention he's receiving from you. You two have been teasing eachother for a while; enough of a while to get him riled up late at night, and to considerably speed up your heart rate whenever he was around.
But even now, you were afraid of being more obvious than necessary. He seemed so confident and easy to talk to, but sometimes you could only wonder if that's just what he was like with everyone else.
He wasn't. He was only this open to you. This relaxed. At least he wasn't aware of how attractive and intimidating his confidence could be to you.
Your delicate fingers kept tapping on the keyboard, unrelenting. Nearly indifferent.
"Didn't you say you'd finish it this morning?" he groans, slightly muffled by the pillow he rested his head against.
"Yeah." You aren't paying attention. Truthfully, beneath the façade, you can barely understand what you're reading, your eyes mechanically darting across the text in front of you. All you can think about is how much you'd want to straddle him and make out right now. Especially with the way he's groaning from the back pain-
"- I overslept." You explain, scarce and somewhat cold. He sighs deeply, and you feel your heart sink into your stomach. Fuck. You don't even know if being roommates is either a blessing or a curse. How are you even supposed to study with-
"Can't you take a break? Por favor." He speaks, his voice down an octave. You can't take it anymore. You peek at him over your shoulder, pondering.
He's shirtless. Of course. He has to be doing it on purpose at this point.
Your attention drifts over the line of his back that bends just slightly for him to hold his beefy arms under his pillow. His muscles ripple as he shifts to get more comfortable into the greyish bedsheets.
"Give me a back rub." He challenges, squinting his eyes and watching your face drop the second his request is processed in your brain.
"Come on." He chuckles lowly. A few ruffled strands of hair on his face make it look like he had just woken up. You can't resist. "Help me feel better."
Raising from the desk chair and moving to sit on the edge of the bed, you place your hands on his shoulder blades, pushing gently, kneading the tensed muscles there. He sighs deeply once again as he feels your small, warm palms on his broad back.
"Ugh." he groans, relaxing under your touch. "Push harder."
You comply, applying more pressure, digging the heels of your hands into his toned muscles.
Your vision washes over his body, comforted by the fact that he can't see you. His back is so much bigger than your whole body. You feel an unfathomably strong need to lay on him, to feel the heat of his skin invade yours. Or better yet, have him lay on you, feel the whole weight of him, cozy and constant.
"Oh-" He moans, raspy and low when you find another tensed up knot, "-feels so good." You're starting to soak your panties from the sounds he's making.
"You're so good at this." He halfly speaks into his pillow, evidently pleased with the special treatment. "Ah, yeah, right there- oh-"
Insisting on the spot, you start putting your upper body weight into the strokes, not having any more force in your arms. He groans again at the sudden change, only this time it comes out very much like a prolonged moan.
Soon enough your own back starts to hurt from the twisted position you're in, legs dangling on one side of the mattress and your torso turned to him. Ceasing your movements, you bring your hands to your lower back, pushing so you could straighten your spine as a faint ache begins to form.
"Get on the bed." He moves his head to gaze up at you over his shoulder. "Straddle my waist. Better for the both of us.", He advices, as if it's nothing.
Your heart rate picks up as uneasiness shoots through your veins as in a lighting strike. You've never been this close to him before. This physical, this intimate. Heart fluttering at the faint hope of reciprocated feelings and the possibility of something more, you silently accept the suggestion.
Climbing on the bed, you hop on his lower back, gradually and slowly laying your bodyweight on him.
"Is this okay?" You're finally settled, and he groans in an infinitely relieved exhale.
"More than okay." One of his hands slips away from under his pillow to tap on your thigh, nearly making you jump. "Continue, it was so good."
Trying to ignore his hand still resting two millimetres away from your leg, you resume the massage, searching for more knots over his broad back.
"That's it, that's it, oh fuck- ugh" His voice sultry and raspier, he flexes his back muscles involuntarily the second you finally reach the spot.
You have to use all that's left of your self control not to accidentally clench your cunt on his lower back. But you can't help it. Wearing a skirt wasn't the best idea today.
The way he's slightly squirming underneath you as you massage his huge shoulders, the way your clothed clit rubs against his skin with the motions have you shivering lightly.
"Yeah- oh, fuck" Your hands are behind his neck, undoing all the aches and rigidity from hours of hunching over his desk, of not taking long coveted breaks.
"I'm done, my arms are starting to hurt." You announce, partially true. You also couldn't stand his noises anymore, all the obscene groans and rough moans, fearing he might start feeling now wet you've actually gotten in the meantime.
In a surge of confidence, you lean forward, more or less intentionally letting your breasts squeeze flush against his back, and you kiss his cheek, soft and tender.
He's surprised and flustered for a flashing second, before letting a smirk tug at the corners of his mouth.
"Let me give you one too, cariño."
You shiver at the pet name, hearing him talk this way to you for the first time.
How could you possibly say no?
You lay on the bed where he had been, feeling the clean sheets warm and infused with his musk.
The mattress dips, springs creaking slightly as he adjusts his weight, finally straddling your upper thighs. Your breathing quickens in shock, not having expected him to take the same position as you did. You feel his weight on you, grounding you.
His broad hands start at your shoulders, questionably innocent at first. But just as you start to think that there isn't more to the way he's sat behind your ass, to the way he's touching you, his palms drift away from the usual motions of the massage he is supposed to give you.
Expert, cursory fingers pretend to knead down, to your waist, gripping hard.
You start feeling your pulse in your neck.
One of his thighs flexes on your side as he slightly adjusts, lifting himself a mere inch above you and settling back down. Only this time, you can feel his erection through his sweats, snugly sat between the globes of your ass.
Leaning forward, his grip on your waist remains strong as he slightly grinds his cock on you from behind, his hands mimicking his rhythm as if things aren't already obvious. It's still a massage, it's just not his main goal.
"Mm- Miguel-" you attempt to protest, only it comes out as a moan laced with anticipating pleasure.
A broad, warm hand slowly and unabashedly moves from your waist up to your shoulder, only for a mere second kneading the tensed muscles before drifting down. His fingers ever so slightly slip underneath you as he palms your right breast, not stopping his hips from rubbing his dick against you.
He's slow and careful, as if still hoping you hadn't noticed or aren't bothered to ask him to get off, even through your mewls and his moaned name.
“You're so..” He speaks quietly, for himself, “soft, and fragile-” He leans forward, much like you did, but instead he kisses your neck, down your spine. “I wanna-”
He leaves the voiced desire unfinished as he picks your torso up to his chest, his arms encompassing you, flipping you around.
Now with your body trapped in his embrace, thighs between his and hands squished together, he kisses your flushed cheeks with fervour.
“Tell me to stop.” A low whisper below your ear. Watching your face for any trace of doubt, you shake your head, ‘no’.
‘Don’t stop.’
Placing you back down on the mattress, he bunches your skirt up to your middle, moving your panties to the side as his other hand takes his rock hard cock out of his sweats.
You feel the precum coated head flush against your pussy lips, pushing in with a gravel groan.
As soon as he gathers the courage to advance, his length grazes your clit, your hips automatically jerking away, akin to having touched hot coal.
A shiver runs down your spine that makes your cunt flutter, his awaiting cock twitching in enthusiasm. He feels you spasm and grow wetter.
“Ugh, that- you feel so good-”
He’s only taking his time before he can bottom out inside you. With a look over your shoulder, you don’t trust your voice to respond. You nod and clench your pussy around him, aiming to viciously drive him mad.
He suddenly pushes forward, hands forcing you onto him, the contact with his own blazing flesh making your brain melt and eyes roll back into your head. You can almost feel his bulbous tip in your guts, messing with your nerves and sinews.
Quickly adapting to the new conditions your body has given him, he corrects his grip on your waist, hoisting you until your feet lose contact with the bed. Back now arched, ass well-adjusted to meet his height, upper body rested on the plush pillows. He drags out halfway before sinking back in.
His hips slowly rotate against yours, his tense abdomen waving into you
You can’t take it anymore. Your limbs feel like radio-static, heart sending its pulse into your pussy, breathing laboured and synced with his. The broad head flicks a spot deep inside you that curves your spine this time, feet no longer able to find balance away from the stimulation.
A strong forearm curls around your middle with snake-like speed. You settle obediently back into his hold.
Your hips wiggle closer into his, apologetically stuffing yourself full of him. He smirks at the gesture, satisfied.
“Fuck, Miguel-”, you moan for him, giving him exactly what he wanted before he started pounding into you.
A combination of his pelvis slamming into yours and his hands violently dragging you back onto his dick has high-pitched whimpers crawling out of your throat. Your head rings with the sound of the bed squeaking back and forth along with the harsh returns of his cock in between your come-soaked folds.
His firm hands hold you from flinching, fingers digging into your waist while his thumbs press down into your lower back.
It's when he changes his angle that you scream out, all consciousness dissolving into raw, carnal bliss. Ruptured cries and fractions of his name bloom out of your nearly-dry throat.
He feels his heavy cock pulsate as your ass jolts with each slap, your pussy choking his dick in the process.
With a suffocating groan, he releases inside you, his ecstasy drawn-out into fractured grunts blended with heavy breaths.
You sense his warm come spilling inside you. Your own climax sends your head spinning, your loud pulse dropping in your ears.
The thunder subsides through your veins like a candle being put out by the cold.
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a/n: sorry for the delay i have a ton of stuff to do for college 💀
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kyunzin · 4 months
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𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞
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character; 𝐆. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, 𝐆. 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮, 𝐅. 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐒. 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧
cw; picking up the phone while they’re fucking you (f!reader)
tags; slight voyerism/missionary position/ teasing (gojo), teasing/ doggy style/ degradation (geto), vouyerism/ degradation/ praise/ chokehold/ back shots (toji),sex tape/ voyerism/degradation/ objectification / missionary (sukuna), [yuuji makes an appearance at the end] (f!reader)
a/n; I haven’t posted in a while, if you requested it is in the making I promise, by the way if the spelling/grammar is bad it’s cause i’m writing this at 1 am my brain ain’t function properly rn
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𝐆. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮
✰ would tease you, pick up the phone and tell the person that picked up that you’re busy while still fucking you.
“why don’t you answer it baby, it might be important?”
he smirks down at you as he watches you glare at him even though your moaning, letting out a weak “fuck you” at his childish antics.
“c’mon, all you have time do is see what they want it can be that hard”
his pace doesn’t let up and you watch in horror as he picks up the phone to answer with a devious smirk on his face. he knows you didn’t actually expect him to pick up the phone.
“this is gojo speaking, ah nanamin it’s you. sorry shes busy but I can help you”
your quick to slap your hand over you mouth and gojo feels the way you clench around him and he watches in amusement as you try to contain your noise though he’s sure the sound of his hips slapping against yours are making it through the speaker.
“yeah, I’ll be sure to pass on the message don’t worry”
once the call ends he throws the phone to the side and continues fucking you however the smirk never leaves his face. you’re sure to call nanami back and apologise for gojo’s behaviour.
𝐆. 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮
✰ he would tease yout at first baiting you but he wouldn’t actually pick up.
“what would they think if they heard the pathetic sounds you’re making baby, you wanna find out?”
he watches as you shake your head and whine at his suggestion from below him but he feels the way your cunt tightens around him at the idea.
“you sure baby, then why did your pussy squeeze so tight when I mentioned it, clearly you want them to hear how much of a cock hungry slut you are don’t you”
it’s the first time something like this has happened so you’re not sure if he’s actually going to pick up or not, you’re oulse raising in anticipation.
“you think I don’t feel the way your sucking me in even tighter, someone would think that you actually enjoy the idea of someone hearing you, is that what you want?”
“no sug, please” you don’t know if your pleas will work as the way his hands grip onto your waist tighter say otherwise as well as the way he starts to reach for the phone ahead your pulse increasing. you believe he’s going to follow through with the suggestion until he picks yo the phone to decline the call and you sigh in relief.
“don’t worry princess, I’m the only one that gets to hear your slutty moans”
𝐅. 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢
✰ would pick up straight away and make you speak to the person on the phone as he fucks you.
“tell them you’re busy, make it quick”
your not ready by the time he puts the phone up to your ear and you don’t even recognise the voice speaking to you not that you have half the brain right now as toji fucked the sense out of you but you have to comply with his wishes as you dont want to be punished even though you know hes only doing it to humiliate you.
“make sure you speak properly otherwise they won’t be able to understand you baby”
it’s hard for you to speak as he has you held up by your throat so your words come out choppy in between your moans and theres no doubt that the person on the phone can tell whats going on. “ye -fuck! hello s-sorry about that. shit, can I um -oh fuck, can I c-call you back later?”
“taking to long princess, hurry up”
“fuck! m’ trying, please! no not you -fuck sorry. m’ b-busy right now so I’m gonna call you back- fuck!” toji doesn’t wait for you to finish your sentence sending one particularly harsh thrust just before the call ends throwing it back to it’s place.
“such a good girl doing as i asked, but now they know what a dirty slut you are, taking calls while you’re being fucked”
𝐒. 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧
✰ puts the phone next to your pussy so that the person can hear the obscene sounds then next to your mouth to hear your moans.
“keep making ‘em pretty noises for me”
you don’t even notice when he picks up the phone but you soon realise that he is holding your phone down to where his balls slap against your ass making the wettest sound and you know that he’s recording a video as he usual does when the two of you fuck, he says he saved it for when he can’t fuck you l.
“hear that it’s the sound of quality pussy, she’s sucking me in so tightly. bet you wish you were me huh?”
you don’t even have half a mind to question what he’s doing right now as even though he’s occupied with the phone he’s still fucking you brutally shaking the bed with the force of his thrusts eliciting loud and long moans from you.
“my pretty little whore can take my dick so well, she even makes the prettiest noises for me wanna hear?”
you’re not sure how long he records the sounds your pussy makes but the next thing you know is that the phone is placed next to your ear for it to hear the profanities leave your mouth one after the other a proud smirk on his face as you do “ryo please- oh fuck, feels s-so fuckin good”
“my cunt takes cock so well, pretty sure it’s all she’s good for. just to be used as my fleshlight”
you soon later come to learn that it was yuuji the video was for yuuji after hearing your moans he may or may have not fisted his cock all night in jealousy wishing it were him fucking you instead.
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𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍
@tyunixia @riowmie
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When BSD men have to carry you.
Pairing: Fem!Reader/BSD Men
In this post: ✨Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara, Ryunosuke Akutagawa, Doppo Kunikida, Atsushi Nakajima, Yukichi Fukuzawa, Edogawa Ranpo, Fyodor Dostoyevsky✨
Synopsis; Various scenarios where the BSD men have to carry you in their arms.
Guys should I double space or single space my paragraphs? Let me know…Bro this turned out to be a BEAST! Please requests are open!! Request for bsd or any other character!
Edogawa Ranpo
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You had been walking home with your boyfriend, strolling peacefully as the dying sun elongated your shadows on the empty pavement. Your hand rested in Ranpo’s right hand, his left hand holding a lollipop he was happily licking.
Your eyes were staring at your feet, but your mind was elsewhere, thinking back to day you had spent in the office, more precisely Kenji’s small cousins coming to visit him from the countryside. The very unplanned visit had obviously caused chaos in the already disorganized life the Armed Detective Agency lived (Kunikida had almost died on the spot), but soon everyone started having fun. One precise moment had remained etched to your brain, recalling memories of your childhood you yourself had forgotten: Dazai carrying the little children on his back, twirling them around as they laughed.
The last time you had been carried in someone’s arms was so long ago the memory was fuzzy, and almost non-existent in your brain. Slowly, you wondered if your genius boyfriend would maybe comply to your very childish wish. The words bubbled in your chest, quickly pressing against your lips. You tried to calm down your beating heart, slightly embarrassed, but before you could even utter the first syllable, Ranpo turned to look at you, his eyes glittering in the sunset.
“I’ll do it just because it’s you.”
“H-how did you know what I wanted to ask?” Your boyfriend’s mind never ceased to amaze you.
“I was watching you today at the agency, and I immediately knew what you were thinking when you looked at Dazai.” Your cheeks became an even darker shade of red, and you nibbled on your lip, feeling embarrassment running all over your body.
Ranpo cleared his throat, and you glanced back at him, finding him kneeling in front of you, his lollipop hanging lazily from his lips. Your heart skipped a beat, and a happy giggle flew out of your mouth before you climbed on your boyfriend’s back. He quickly adjusted his hands to hold you more comfortably. “Hold on tight.” He called to you, before standing up.
You gasped, throwing your arms around his neck, and nuzzling your lips against his neck. “Ah, (Y/N)! That tickles!” He whined, making you laugh even more.
Ranpo started walking again, heading towards your home. You were on cloud nine, happily expressing your joy by kissing every inch of Ranpo’s skin that you could reach. “I love you, I love you!” You kept repeating, an idiotic smile practically glued to your lips.
“The things I do for you!” He exclaimed, faking annoyance, even through his heart beamed with joy, knowing he was the one who had made you smile so brightly you were rivaling the sun.
Ryunosuke Akutagawa
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You had been lying down on the couch in Akutagwa’s office for the past hour, patiently waiting for him to finish working on some paperwork that had to be absolutely handed in by the end of the day. You had first come in as you two had planned to walk home, but your boyfriend had quickly explained the situation. Working in the same organization, you understood, and simply pressed a kiss to his pale skin before settling down comfortably, and waiting for him to be done.
As time sluggishly went on, the cozy warmth in Akutagwa’s office and his delicate cologne that permeated everything around you, slowly started to make you drowsy. The constant scratching of his pen against the paper did not help either, and you were soon slipping in and out of consciousness.
Akutagawa finished the last report he had to write, exhaling quietly, a little bit of tension easing from his shoulders. He slipped the lid on his pen, ordering the pages on his desk, knowing his assistant would deliver them as soon as you two would leave. Akutagawa stood up, stretching his back. “(Y/N), I’m done, let’s go…” His words trailed off when he turned to face you, finding you to be adorably sleeping on his couch.
The sight almost melted his heart, before he sadly realized he had to wake you up, even though he knew you had had trouble sleeping last night. He sincerely did not want to wake you up, desiring you to get the sleep you so needed. Akutagawa brainstormed for a few moments, thinking how to solve the issue, before an idea stepped forward: quietly, and delicately, Akutagawa commended Rashomon to slither towards you, picking you up with the most care in the world to not wake you. The dark coils carried you to your boyfriend’s back, placing you vertically against him, so your chest was pressing against his back. The black tendrils wrapped around your torso, safely locking you to Alutagwa’s back, making you become an almost human backpack. Your boyfriend reached to place your limp arms around his neck, and commanded Rashomon to hold your legs against him, so they wouldn’t accidentally drag on the floor and hurt you. And finally, one more coil gently supported your neck, your cheek now pressing against Akutagawa’s shoulder.
He made sure that you were soundly asleep before he walked out of the office, non caring of the other Port Mafia members who glanced at you two, clearly confused. The only unfazed one seemed to be Chuuya, but what could surprise him after years of living with Dazai?
The whole way home, Akutagawa made sure you were always sound asleep and comfortable, timidly holding your hand when he was sure he was very very very far away from the Port Mafia headquarters. When you two were in the elevator in your apartment complex, Akutagawa looked at you through the reflection, feeling his heart flutter when he realized you had started drooling in your sleep. You were truly the most beautiful women in the world.
He quietly shut the door of your apartment. Akutagawa gently laid you down on your bed, making sure you weren’t about to fall off the edge of the bed, before he finally allowed Rashomon to retreat. Just as he turned around to go grab his phone, he felt your warm hand on his wrist. He turned around, seeing you sleepily look at him, your eyes caked in sleep and barely remembered dreams.
“Come lay in bed?” You asked sluggishly.
Akutagawa could not resist. He quickly climbed bed next to you, welcoming you in his embrace, watching as you used his chest as a pillow. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, suddenly wincing. Before Akutagawa could ask what was wrong, you mumbled, “There’s a wet spot on your back,”
Akutagawa could not help the small smile on his face, kissing your forehead. “I know. Don’t worry about it.” You complied, quickly slipping back into slumber, and Akutagawa soon followed, closing his eyes.
Osamu Dazai
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You had spent the whole day walking around Yokohama with Dazai, holding his hand tightly, eating whatever your hearts desired. Your last wish for the day was to go on the Ferris wheel, offering a night view of the twinkling city, making it resemble a field of fallen stars.
The both of you were at the very top of the Ferris Wheel; you were admiring the view, and Dazai had his head resting on your shoulder, observing the view of the city as well. His dark curls tickled your shoulders. “Did you have fun today, belladonna?” Dazai asked quietly, not wanting to destroy the magic of the moment.
“I had the best time of the my life. The only thing that put a blemish on today’s perfection was this skirt.” You pointed to the short skirt you had decided to wear that today.
Dazai glanced down after hearing your words, perplexedly staring at the article of clothing he had quite enjoyed on you: the skirt was beautiful on you, accentuating your gorgeous body. “Why was it a bad choice?” He asked, playing with the hem of it.
“Well, not the skirt in itself, but I usually wear some biker shorts underneath, because my thighs rub against each other and it hurts like a bitch! And I forgot them today!” You quickly hitched it up to show Dazai the reddened skin between your thighs. “And today’s heat did not help. Every step is an agony.” You admitted, hastily shoving your skirt down when you realized the ride was coming to an end.
Dazai chivalrously helped you out of the Ferris wheel, holding onto your arm. He noticed how you subtly tried to waddle instead of walking, not wanting your thighs to brush together again. “Bella, seeing you in such a dramatic situation makes your poor boyfriend’s heart bleed!” He dramatically stated, over exaggerating every word.
You chuckled. “I, your valiant boyfriend will sacrifice my knees for you.” He called, quickly kneeling in front of you.
“Are you sure, Dazai? I don’t want to hurt you…”
“My dear, you could never hurt me.” Dazai smiled at you, looking over his shoulder. You blushed, finally deciding that you could not walk anymore, and you gratefully climbed on his back, pressing a kiss to his head and whispering a soft, “Thank you.”
Dazai adjusted his hands to hold you comfortably and started walking home. “Am I not a gentleman, (Y/N)?” Dazai asked, turning to look at you and wiggle his eyebrows.
“Well, I am not so sure.” You laughed.
“Oh! You doubt my honor? For what reason, my lady?” Dazai whined.
“Well, I don’t think a gentleman would use this opportunity to touch my ass.” Dazai’s hands had been initially supporting your thighs, but his elegant fingers had soon slid further back, deciding to hold your butt, and you were sure that had not been just to carry you better.
Dazai tsked loudly. “T’is simply the fare to pay for this unique transport system.” You laughed, letting your head rest against his broad shoulders.
The rest of the walk home was peacefully, the two of you talking about random subjects. When you got home, Dazai gently rested you on the bed. “Do you want me to apply cream on the irritated skin?” He asked, starting to unbutton his shirt.
“Yes, please.”
Dazai quickly grabbed some Aloe Vera gel from the bathroom, coming back to the bedroom. You had removed your skirt, and were now lying in bed in just one of Dazai’s old shirts and your underwear.
Dazai knelt in front of your legs, quickly and efficiently applying the cream to all the irritated areas. After finishing, you pressed a kiss to his lips to thank him.
“Hey, (Y/N),”
“Yes?”
“Since you can’t close your leg until the cream has dried, can I eat you out?”
“Dazai!” You screamed, throwing a pillow at him. Your boyfriend ducked just in time.
“Hey! It’s not my fault! You’re lying there with your legs spread so enticingly!”
You threw all the pillows you had on the bed at Dazai’s head, and yet, somehow, he managed to have his way, keeping your legs spread way long after the cream had dried.
Doppo Kunikida
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The day had been spent with the rest of the Armed Detective Agency at the beach, splashing in the water, running around and chasing each other in the water. You had built a sandcastle with Atushsi and Kyouka, sun-bathed with Dazai, and had taken strolls along the shoreline with your boyfriend, Kunikida.
You were currently helping Kenji and Rampo make another sandcastle, while Kunikida held a book in his hand, sitting in the shade. He wasn’t reading the book, too focused on watching you laugh and giggle, the story in front of him long forgotten. The sun was slowly descending, disappearing behind the thin line of the horizon.
Slowly, every member of the Agency had retreated to their rooms, and now only the four of you remained, wanting to enjoy every moment left in the dying day.
Kunikida glanced down at his watch, stretching his neck, and thinking maybe it was time to head home, leaving the day at the beach to became a memory. “(Y/N)!” He called, waving his arm to catch your attention. You turned around, smiling. Kunikida gestured to his watch, and you threw a thumbs up in his direction, quickly waving goodbye to Kenji and Rampo, before sauntering over to your boyfriend. You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, before you started helping him pack your towels and the various books the two of you had brought to the beach.
Holding one bag each, you started the walk back to the hotel, feeling the warmth of the cement underneath your flip-flops. “Today was so fun!” You squealed, sliding your hand in Kunikida’s.
“It sure was.” He answered back, threading your fingers together.
“I think my favorite part was when Dazai managed to convince the president to lie down in the sand and then made him a mermaid tail with the sand!” You giggled, also recalling Kunikida’s exasperated expression when he had caught Rampo trying to eat a snack that had fallen in the sand.
Kunikida chuckled. “It was a fun day today. We should take more holidays together.” He thought, already starting to meticulously plan the next one in his head.
You nodded, a sudden wave of exhaustion scaling your back and implanting its fangs in your head. Kunikida started mentioning other destinations that would be fun to visit, but your throat suddenly felt parched and your head boiling. You didn’t hear his words, the world starting to melt into confusing figures around you. Suddenly, the ground seemed to have been yanked away from you.
You managed to whimper Kunikida’s name before your legs gave up and you tumbled to the ground. Kunikida turned around, his smile evaporating when he realized your eyes had rolled to the back of your head and you were fainting. The bag he was carrying toppled to the ground and he dove to catch you, holding you in his arms.
“(Y/N)? What’s wrong?” He asked, fear gripping his insides.
“Don’t worry, Kunikida. I think it’s just heatstroke. I did run around underneath the blazing sun for most of the day.” You chuckled dryly, trying to not worry your perpetually panicking boyfriend.
Your words did little to help Kunikida, who started digging through the bag closest to him, trying to find a water bottle he knew was there, his mind already flooding with self-deprecating thoughts because he had not thought about making sure you wouldn’t catch heatstroke.
Knowing your boyfriend, you could read his thoughts reflected in his gorgeous eyes, and gently squeezed his hand. Kunikida turned to look at you, water bottle in hand. “My darling over-thinker, it’s fine. This is not your fault.”
Kunikda gulped, nodding curtly, before opening the bottle and helping you drink half of it, pouring the rest on your head to help you cool down.
You waited a few more moments, resting in Kunikida’s lap before nodding. “Okay, I’m fine. Let’s keep going.” You tried to stand up, but before you had even managed to place one foot perpendicular to the ground, Kunikida had wrapped one arm around your back, and the other underneath your knees, lifting you up in his arms. You gasped, holding onto his neck.
“Kunikida! What are you doing?” You asked, as you watched him start walking.
“I am not making you walk when you are in these conditions.” He said, not wanting you to get even more tired. Seeing you collapse had already made him lose thirty years of his life; he didn’t need a repeat.
“But Kunikida, darling, I’m fine! I’m not that sick! And I’m too heavy for you!” You rambled, trying to get down. Your wiggling only made Kunikida hold onto you more tightly. The moment you uttered the last sentence, Kunikida stared at you, clearly waiting for you to take back what you had just said.
You pouted, realizing you could not win this fight. You rested your head on his shoulder, letting him take care of you.
The minute you got back to the hotel, Kunikida laid you down on the bed, raiding the mini fridge for ice, and gently placing it on your wrists and ankles. Only when you were lying in bed, slowly gaining back the sparkle in your eyes did Kunikida feel his heart stop beating a thousand times a minute, and let himself collapse on the bed.
Let’s just say, for the rest of the holiday, you were basically dragged back into the shade by Kunikida every 30 minutes.
Yukichi Fukuzawa
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The evening was finally over; you had spent the whole night at a charity event held by the most powerful people in all of Yokohama. Your boyfriend, being Fukuzawa, the president of the Armed Detective Agency, had to attend, and to make his evening a little bit more bearable, he had asked you to accompany him.
The night had been relatively fun, talking to various people and enjoying some expensive champagne. The only tense moment was when the two of you had stumbled on Mori, who for some reason, was there as well. Luckily, no fight erupted between the two men; they curtly nodded at one another and then moved on with their own affairs.
The best part of the evening, for you, had been when they had played some slow, romantic music, and invented everyone to dance with their partners. You had enjoyed swaying in Fukuzawa’s arms, getting lost in his eyes. But you were paying the price now, your feet aching at every step in your stiletto heels. Every step feeling like shards of glass stabbed your already aching skin.
You and Fukuzawa were heading home, but every step was torture, a grimace carving itself in your face. “My dear, what is wrong?” Fukuzawa asked, his deep voice momentarily distracting you from the pain.
You glanced at him, your heart fluttering when your eyes caught his handsome face glimmering in the moonlight. You nodded down to your feet, lifting your dress’ skirt slightly to reveal your two personal torture machines. “My heels: they’re killing me.”
“Would you like to take them off?” Fukuzawa asked, glancing down at your black heels. He had never worn any type of heeled-shoe, but could imagine what they felt like.
“I wish, but I can’t walk home barefoot.”
“I’ll carry you.”
“What? No, Yukichi, I can’t let you carry me! Our house is far.”
“(Y/N), every step you have been taking these last few minutes makes you visibly wince in pain. I cannot let the woman I love suffer so.”
Your heart fluttered in your chest, and couldn’t help but thank whichever divinity had gifted you this man. Using his shoulder for your balance, you slipped off your high heels, immediately becoming way shorter. You grimaced in pain when you noticed the shoes had managed to create various blisters on your feet. Your right foot had been more unlucky, raw skin visible in the silver light, and even a few trickles of blood.
Fukuzawa gently kneeled down in front of you, inspecting your feet. You saw concern paint his eyes, and his lips pressed a soft kiss to both your ankles. “You should have told me sooner,” he scolded gently, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
You nodded shyly, knowing he was right. You bent down to retrieve your heels, holding them with the tip of your fingers.
As soon as you straightened your back, you suddenly felt Fukuzawa’s warm hands hold you, before you were hoisted into his arms, suddenly finding yourself to be almost kissing your boyfriend’s lips. You blinked, using your free hand to grasp his shoulder. “I thought you would carry me on your back,” you admitted, not complaining that Fukuzawa had decided to carry you in his arms instead. You could feel his warm, and solid chest against your body, making you feel safe and cared for.
“I already get to see you so little, I would like to spend the rest of the night with your beautiful face in my line of sight.” Fukuzawa said, glancing at you warmly. You leaned forward, pressing a fervent kiss to his lips, knowing that Fukuzawa wasn’t always the biggest fan of PDA. But this one time, your silver-haired partner, kissed you back, mirroring your passion, the moon’s inconsistent light shielding you from any unwanted attention.
You pulled back from the kiss, leaning against his shoulders, getting lulled by his rhythmic breath.
When the two of you got home, Fukuzawa immediately tended to your feet, disinfecting the wounds, and wrapping them with bandages, before the two of you cuddled underneath the blankets to fall asleep.
The next day, Fukuzawa seemed to hover around your desk more than usual, making sure you could walk without problem and did not need to be carried. You told him not to worry.
At the end of the day, Kunikida looked outside the window of the Armed Detective Agency, and quickly looked away, seeing his president pressing a soft kiss to your lips before whisking you into his arms.
Nakahara Chuuya
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Chuuya downed the remaining champagne in his glass, chuckling alongside with Koyo. The Port Mafia Christmas party was in full swing around the two of them. The buffet had been adequately raided, and Chuuya noticed quite a few people drunkenly wobbling around. Higuchi was heavily leaning on Akutagawa in the left corner of the room. He knew that you were somewhere around the room, having fun with your friends. Chuuya had only spent a few moments with you, pressing a kiss to your hand before leaving you: being an executive, he terrified the rest of your friends who were of a greatly inferior in rank. To let them enjoy their evening, he had stepped aside.
Koyo poured some more champagne in his glass, the melted, golden liquid sloshing around the delicate glass. “This champagne is real good,” Chuuya chirped happily, suddenly feeling a tap on his sleeve and turning around. Tachihara was standing in front of him, arms crossed around his chest.
“(Y/N) needs you.” He pointed his finger behind him, gesturing to your current location. “She’s shit-faced drunk and is just calling your name.” After having done his job, Tachihara walked away, joining Akutagawa.
Chuuya sighed, setting down his glass. The remaining champagne called to him, but he had to go. “Sorry, Koyo. Boyfriend duty calls.” He waved goodbye to his companion, start to head in between the crowd to find you.
As soon as people noticed that it was Chuuya, one of the most powerful executives, they quickly moved away, letting him through. But alcohol had rendered their reaction time significantly lower, and Chuuya still struggled.
“If we get attacked now, we’re fucked.” He grunted, after he had managed to push past a huddle of people who had formed a dance line and had somehow managed to run into itself, creating chaos. Chuuya adjusted his hat, scanning the purple couches that had been set around the room for the party: you had been there, the last time he saw you.
Your twinkling, beautiful laugh reached his ears over the cacophony in the room, like a siren song luring him. He followed the sound he loved so much, and finally reached you. You and your friends were sitting where he had left you. Your table was littered with empty bottles of various alcoholics, some of them open, and languidly dripping on the tabletop. Most of your friends were snoring, passed out, but a few them resisted stoically, dancing, or more wobbling clumsily, to the music. You were sitting on the couch, your cheeks red with alcohol, your hair beautifully disheveled, and singing along to the song with slurred words.
Chuuya stepped closer to you, gently placing his hand on yours. “Princess, I heard you were looking for me.” You turned around, hearing your boyfriend’s voice.
“Chuuya!” You called, your happy voice almost reaching a supersonic level. Without warning, you hooked your finger in his belt, dragging him down to the couch with you. Chuuya had only the time to blink before you climbed in his lap, straddling him. “I missed…*hic*…I missed you!” You giggled, poking his cheek continuously.
“How much have you had to drink, sweetheart?” Chuuya asked, adjusting your skirt so nothing would be revealed to anyone in the room around you.
“I don’t know!” You smiled lopsidedly at him, suddenly feeling sleepy now that your boyfriend was here. You almost fell backwards, Chuuya bringing you back against him in time.
“Okay. That’s it. We’re going home.” Chuuya decided, knowing that tomorrow’s hangover would shatter all plans he had to go ice skating with you.
You were so tired, and the room was spinning so rapidly around you that you nodded, wanting to go home. But you still had one more playful spark inside your chest. “But you have to carry me!” You whined, gripping your boyfriend tightly.
Chuuya caressed your clothed back, sighing. You were adorably cute when you were drunk. The feared port mafia executive was putty in your hands, and he adored every moment of it. Using his ability, Chuuya made you lighter in his arms, starting to walk with you clung onto him like a drunk, but beautiful koala. You giggled happily, inhaling your boyfriend’s musky cologne, and feeling lulled to sleep by his rhythmic walking. Your fingers traced heart shapes on his vest, humming a nonsensical song you were making up on the spot.
The sleepy silence of the deserted street was suddenly broken by a loud laugh that escaped you, scaring Chuuya. “What’s so funny, doll?” He asked, his heartbeat slowly calming down.
“I just realized that I love you to the moon and back!” You singsonged, smushing Chuuya’s cheeks together. Your boyfriend stared back at you, nothing but love glimmering in his eyes.
“I wuv y’too.” He managed to mumble through his squished cheeks, his heart almost on fire with joy. A gorgeous smile decorated your face, and you looked as gorgeous as an antique painting, before you suddenly collapsed against his chest, snoring loudly.
“Doll? What? You can’t just declare your love for me and then start sleeping!” Chuuya called, trying to shake your arm. But you had said what you needed to say, and was now happily in dreamland, sleeping peacefully in your boyfriend’s arms.
Chuuya realized waking you was impossible, and decided to press a kiss to your forehead, instead. He pulled you closer in his arms, enjoying the stroll through the moonlit Yokohama with his drunk koala safely in his arms.
Fyodor Dostoyevsky
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You had been lying in bed for a few days now. Your throat ached, as if someone had sandpapered it, and your nose had become red from all the tissues you had used. Your body temperature was acting weird, swinging from absolute boiling to absolute freezing. Right now you were freezing, gripping the duvet around you with your trembling fingers.
Your boyfriend, Fyodor, had been staying away from you to avoid getting sick, his anemia not providing a strong enough shield for him to be there. He did come in the room a few times, wearing a mask, but bringing you food and water, and caressing your forehead.
Your teeth were chattering from how cold you felt, and with a sudden whine, you realized that the heater had accidentally gone off in your room, rendering it even more freezing. You tried to convince yourself that you could get out of bed and walk the few steps to the heater. With an inhumane effort you, you dragged yourself up to a sitting position, immediately falling into a brutal couching fit.
When you opened your watery eyes, you noticed Fyodor was sitting on the edge of the bed. You immediately covered your mouth. “Fyodor, what are you doing here?” You asked, your voice broken.
“I could hear you coughing from the other room, milaya.” He called, a cold finger caressing your cheek. You averted your gaze, feeling embarrassed that you were being a burden to your permanently busy boyfriend.
Fyodor quickly read what you were thinking in your body gestures, and decided that actions would cure your scared heart more than his words. He slowly approached you, lifting a chin and pressing a kiss to your nose. Your already flushed cheeks became even redder. Fyodor then slowly cradled you into his arms, feeling your quivers shake his body as well. He grabbed the duvet, and threw it over your body, making sure you were safely encapsulated in its warmth, before picking you up.
“No, Fyodor, I don’t want to tire you out and then make you sick,” You protested meekly, weakly trying to push yourself away from his body.
“You’re freezing, milaya.” Fyodor stated, pulling you closer to himself. He expertly avoided your question, not wanting to admit that hearing you sick, and alone, in the other room had slowly destroyed his heart. The shards had slowly blossomed into the realization that he would not mind getting sick, if he could just hold you against himself while working. But he would never admit it.
You were too weak to try and convince him, happily giving up and allowing yourself to rest in your lover’s embrace as he sat back down in his office chairs, returning to work. You adjusted yourself, trying to get comfortable, accidentally uncovering your feet. Fyodor immediately tucked you back in, not wanting you to feel an inch of the cold air on your skin.
It wasn’t rare that you slept in Fyodor’s arms while he worked, his scent lulling you into a deep slumber. Your blocked nose was preventing you from smelling anything, and you shifted around his lap helplessly.
Fyodor blocked your movements. You stared up at him, slightly afraid that he would kick you out for disturbing him. Instead, Fyodor gently pulled you against himself, making sure you were comfortable, but starting to hum a quiet, Russian lullaby.
You instantly calmed down, your eyelids becoming heavier. Your body felt at peace, the shivers no longer wrecking your body. Right before sleep dragged you under the surface, you slipped your hand in Fyodor’s and pulled it close to your chest. You snuggled against his chest, starting to snore adorably.
Fyodor could not help but gaze lovingly at you, singing the Russian lullaby till he was sure you wouldn’t wake. And only then, did he lean down and kiss your lips, murmuring a quiet, “I love you,” to your ear.
Nakajima Atsushi
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Your weretiger boyfriend had thrown himself down the Armed Detective Agnecy stairs when Kunikida had told him you were coming back from a mission and had severely twisted your ankle. He was now anxiously pacing in front of the building, waiting for you.
When your taxi stopped in front of him, Atsushi almost ripped the car door off, worry sinking its claws in him. You smiled weakly at him, clearly very much in pain. “Hey darling,” you called, trying to calm Atsushi down, because he was clearly on the verge of a mental breakdown: his eyes were wide, his chest heaving, and he immediately ducked down to wrap you in his strong arms, irrationally fearing you might die from a twisted ankle.
You held him close to you, whispering that you were fine, and nothing was going to happen to you. When Atsushi’s heartbeat had steadied enough for him to not crumble on the ground crying, you pulled away from him, anchoring your left hand to the car door to slowly, and carefully slip out.
You put one foot down on the ground before Atsushi intervened. He would not let you walk on your foot, for no reason at all. He leaned down, and easily picked you up in his arms, his fingers digging into your skin, as if he were afraid you would slip out of his hold and hurt yourself even more.
As Atsushi carried you, you dragged your hands through his hair, scratching his scalp to further relax the panic that was tainting his gaze. The ironclad grip he had on you slowly loosened once he was in the elevator. “My knight in shining armor,” you giggled, caressing his chin.
“My love, please, please be careful from now on,” He whispered, looking at you with eyes that almost made you start crying. You nodded, pressing your forehead against his. And in the moment of peace, neither of you noticed the elevator door opening, signaling you had arrived to your destination.
You did, however, hear Kunikida shouting his head off because Dazai had accidentally poured coffee on his notebook. You and Atsushi giggled quietly, sharing one more chaste kiss before entering the chaos that was your office.
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reiderwriter · 11 months
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Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (GN + AFAB)
Summary: The AC at the BAU decides to take a holiday during a summer heatwave, and when you decide the FBI’s dress code is merely a suggestion, you unwittingly catch Spencer’s eye.
Genre: smut (18+, minors DNI)
Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!reader, semi-public sex, fingering, car sex, degradation, name-calling, edging, praise-kink, dumbification, basically Spencer is a tease and the reader really gets off on using his official title.
Word Count: 3.8k
Authors Note: Hello! This is my first posted fic, so any feedback is welcome and absolutely appreciated (I tried to keep it GN!AFAB but if you notice any gendered pronouns pls lmk immediately!) I finally decided to start writing again after a few years, so I might be a bit rusty but I recently started rewatching Criminal Minds and I am so in love with Spencer! This little fic was inspired by @imagining-in-the-margins CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge, so big thank you to them for the inspiration! This could also develop into a multi part fic in the future, so if that’s something you’d be interested in, please let me know in the tags and comments! XOXO K
Part two!
After three years in the BAU, you should know that summers in Quantico, Virginia are nothing to play about. Sure, it could be cloudy sometimes, and summer rain did allow for some relief, but with a heatwave on the way and a week of office work ahead of you, it seemed every member of your team was excited for the office AC. 
That was, of course, until the maintenance department sent out an office-wide email telling you it was “undergoing work” for the foreseeable future. 
You received the email during your commute, and immediately turned around to change. There was no way you were surviving in your slacks and long-sleeve shirt, and, truth be told, you knew that your bosses wouldn’t mind if you were a little more relaxed in your workplace attire if you weren’t going to be spending time in the field. 
It took all of thirty seconds to shoot a message to Garcia, telling her that you’d be a few minutes late for your daily carpool, letting her know the situation so she didn’t hack into your car GPS (which she still claims she absolutely did not do the last time you accidentally slept in, but would in an emergency just to know you were safe). 
She quickly sent you a reply: “put on that floral number we picked up last week! Between you and Morgan, I'm hoping my eyes will be feasting today 😉.” 
You let out a little chuckle as you read the message, and quickly complied. A sundress didn’t sound too bad right now at all. 
The dress in question was perhaps pushing it slightly for office work. It was short, and you knew immediately when putting it on that you would spend the day pulling it down to a more appropriate length. But the shade of blue fit your skintone perfectly, and the floaty material was exactly what you needed to beat the heat. 
Grabbing your keys again before you could second guess yourself, you didn’t let your mind linger quickly on the thought that perhaps the dress was a little attention grabbing. And perhaps there was someone in the office whose attention you wanted to grab. 
-X-
The commute into the office wasn’t bad, but stepping out of your nicely temperature regulated car into a wall of heat made you thank yourself for your foresight. And it seemed that the rest of your team was dealing similarly. Walking into the office, you noticed that Prentiss had divested herself of her shirt, sitting comfortably with an iced coffee and red tank top, an electric fan inches from her face. Morgan was similarly outfitted in lighter clothes than usual, and you could audibly hear Penelope’s brain working to come up with the best heat related compliment for her work husband. You couldn’t see Hotch or Rossi, but you knew they kept their own back-up units in their offices, so they wouldn’t be struggling at all today. You assumed JJ, too, was in her office.
“Well, look at you Cutie. You’re gonna break some hearts today, I know.” You roll your eyes as you throw your bag down. You were used to Morgan’s playful teasing by now, but compliments and affirmations were always welcome. You grimaced looking down at your desk chair and realised you had another problem. Your very recent purchase of a black leather office chair was going to absolutely make your day a living hell. Before you resigned yourself to a day of sitting in the orthopedic seventh layer of hell, your heard the angelic call of your office BFF.
“It feels like the devil’s armpit in here, god, do not expect an miracles from me today, I’m collecting my laptop and immediately moving away from all the heavy heat-producing machinery in my cave. Anyone got any space at their desk for me to work at?” 
“Yes!” You replied a little too quickly. 
“Feel free to make yourself at home, Pen, I have to look over some files with Reid later anyways so I’ll just pull up a spare chair to his desk, it’s all yours.” You thanked your lucky stars that everyone was too hot to tease you about your imminent proximity to the office’s Boy Wonder. 
It turns out hiding a small, tiny, stupid crush from a team of FBI profilers wasn’t the easiest thing to do, but you were confident in thinking the only one who had clocked on so far was Penelope. And that was only because of your weekly girls nights and an unfortunate habit of spilling secrets while intoxicated. Sure, the others still teased sometimes, but that was only because the two of you were the easiest targets. And they just didn’t know how on the nose they were sometimes. 
She gave you a quick look, of the ‘we will be discussing this later’ variety but didn’t say anything else and quickly excused herself to collect her things. 
You quickly pulled up a (non-leather) chair next to Reid’s and straightened out your dress as you started searching for the file you were looking for. Although you absolutely had an ulterior motive to intruding on his space, you actually did have work to do. But the heat, and the knowledge that you’d be working closely with Reid again any minute now did nothing to help you stay focused. 
Of course, having worked on the same team now for three years meant that you’d been alone together before. In all honestly, he was your partner of choice for any field task and you complimented each other well. The two of you worked together on Geographical Profiles for the majority of your cases, using your people skills, and his practical knowledge to gain insight into the locations unsubs lived, worked, murdered and hid their victims. And of course, you were friends outside the office, too. But you felt there was a distance between the two of you that made itself known the minute you stepped off the Jet or out of the bullpen. 
As you searched the desk, you let your mind wander to what he would look like in this heat. You knew he didn’t deal with the heat well, and could often be found with his shirt sleeves rolled up and top buttons undone on the cases in the warmer climates. You thought about him panting in the heat, pushing his hair out of his face, glistening with sweat and grumbling quietly about the heat. You specifically thought back to a case from a few weeks back, where the two of you had an awkward run-in with an automatic sprinkler when you made your way to interview a witness. His purple shirt had ended up soaked, and on day six of the investigation, his go bag was thankfully short of replacement clothing. So he’d sat in the precinct, shirt semi-transluscent, completely oblivious to your brazen oggling and sudden lack of anything intellectual to say. Or anything to say in general. 
It was only as you felt yourself getting warmer (a particularly impressive feat on today of all day’s) that you had to pull yourself out of the fantasy. But of course, as you stood up to get yourself a cool drink, you realised you were face to face with the man of your fantasies. 
“Y/N? Did you need something?” He looked down at you, with a soft smile on his face. 
“Oh! No, it was Garcia, she, um, she needed somewhere to work because her office is practically a sauna with all those computers. And I was thinking, we still need to work on that report on the geographical profile from the last case, so I offered her…my…” You trailed off, noticing you were rambling and allowed yourself a second to look at the man in front of you properly for the first time that day. 
It was going to be a miracle if you got any work done ever again.  
Like you, he’d opted for a change in uniform. He’d rid himself of his usual waistcoat-cardigan combo and was left in a button down shirt. It was, as you’d hoped and prayed, open slightly more than usual at the top. You frowned unconsciously as you realised he had also pushed his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, unhappy that you wouldn’t get to watch him do it in-person, his veins popping out as he exerted himself in the smallest way. 
A few seconds of silence passed, and you had to make yourself tear your eyes away from a droplet of sweat that was neatly making its way down his throat, tracing a line that you could only hope to one day follow with your lips.  When you snapped your eyes up to his, he nervously did the same, gripping  his bag a little tighter to him. 
“Oh, yeah that sounds good, um, let me just put my bag down and we can, uh, get started I guess.” 
“Yeah of course. I was just gonna grab a drink first, do you want one?” 
“Sure, yeah, a coffee would be good.”
“Okay, I’m no expert but that cannot be healthy in this heat. I know you’re practically a caffeine addict at this point, but I’m getting you a glass of water and you’re going to thank me, okay Doctor?”
He rolled his eyes and settled comfortably into his seat, but made no complaints as you walked away. 
-X-
“This is ridiculous, how can they expect us to work like this?” Agent Prentiss grumbled from her desk. 
“Oh, come on now, Prentiss, you can’t be complaining about a little heat, now.” 
You rolled your eyes at your coworkers playful back-and-forth, doing your best to not melt into your borrowed seat. You’d been working side-by-side with Reid for the last three hours and the heat was now unbearable. You were stuck to the seat in an uncomfortable way, especially with the extra exposed skin from your dress. It had ridden up your legs more than you expected it would, so you were constantly shifting in your seat attempting to keep yourself decent. 
The heat rolling off your teammate didn’t help. You had assumed that his love of cardigans, scarves and layers in general meant that he usually ran on the cooler side, but he was practically burning up next to you, making any and all accidental touch near intolerable. 
Each accidental brush of his fingers as you passed files between the two of you, each knock of your knees together under the desk as you moved to read over one-anothers shoulders, and every time you got up for another drink, it’s like he’s read your mind because he stood up at the same time and you had to awkwardly untangle yourself from the mess of desk chairs and office furniture. With every touch, you feel yourself getting hotter and hotter, the heat pooling between your legs embarrassingly.
It’s only when, later in the day, he brushes the seam of your skirt with his fingers when reaching over you with his other hand for a file you know for a fact he does not need, you realise that all of those accidental touches may have been absolutely intentional. 
Lowering your voice to a whisper, you bring your lips closer to his ears.”Spence, what was that?” You try to keep your voice steady, but his fingers are stil lingering closer to your sensitive areas than you found comfortable.
He drops his eyes to yours, looking you in the eye for the first time since you started working together in a comfortable silence. 
“What was what?” He asks innocently, his cheeks flushes as he starts drawing small circles on your thigh.
“You’re touching me. You’ve been touching me a lot today, Doctor.”
“Oh, I’m Doctor now, am I?” He smiles at you before quickly moving his attention back to the file he was reading. 
“Don’t change the subject.” You feel your whole body flush, as he ignores you and continues his reading, not removing his hand from your leg the entire time. 
“S-Spencer, I’m serious.”  He looks at you again then, and your heart jumps into your throat as you realise he’s removed his hand from the hem of your skirt, only to have it return under the material, moving closer and closer to where you really wanted him. 
“You know,” he whispers under his breath, so quiet you’re sure that no one could overhear, “you look really pretty in this dress.”
Your brain is short circuiting as you feel his hand on your inner thigh, failing to register the implication of his words as you do your best to stammer out a reply. 
“A-actually, Garcia chose it out for me. She said that you would-” you cut yourself off before you can say anymore. You’re surrounded by a room of your close friends and teammates and you’re doing your best not to beg your incredibly attractive coworker to push his fingers into you right then and there. Biting your lip so you don’t say anything else, you try to stand and shift away. 
But Reid is there, and with his other hand he maneouvers you even closer to him somehow.  
“She said I would what, beautiful?”
He’s so close now and you find yourself again staring at his exposed neck, wanting nothing more than to bury your head in him and kiss and lick and bite until he gives you what you want. The little circles he’s drawing on your legs are removing your inhibitions quicker than any alcohol could. 
But then he grips you a little tighter, and forces you to look up into his eyes again and respond. 
“She said that you would, uh, she said that you would’nt be able to take your eyes off of me. We were shopping together and she was just teasing and, well, yeah.”
“All dressed up for me, then? You thought you’d test the theory and see if she was right?” 
And suddenly he’s ghosting his fingers across your panties and you’re doing your best to not make any other noises as he looks you deep in your eyes.
“Do you think she was right, Y/N?” He asks. But before your brain can catch up and choose whether or not to answert, he’s pulling away. He’s standing up and he’s walking over to Morgan, file in hand, asking questions about another previous case file, and you’re left sitting at his desk questioning if any of that actually just happened.
-X-
You spent the rest of the day in a daze. Luckily, your team was so busy complaining about the heat that you were sure none of them noticed the tension you carried through the rest of your day. With the AC still not working, Garcia had gained permission from Hotch to head back to her own apartment to finish up the day with more appropriate equipment, and had quickly evacuated your desk, allowing you to retreat back to your own space. 
Emily had finished her own paperwork early due to a well-timed bet with Morgan, and had taken herself off to JJ’s office, and Morgan was meeting with Hotch in his office to discuss a potential death row intervew. So with the end of the workday in sight, only you and Reid remained in the bullpen. 
After your little run in, you knew that you weren’t going to get any effective work done. Emily had once joked that Reid’s high IQ gets slashed to 60 every time he comes in contact with an attractive woman. At the time, you’d laughed, joked along. Nowthat it was your reality, it wasn’t as funny to you. 
He’d played with you, called you beautiful, had his hands on you in the most frustratingly dizzying way- and then just as soon walked away from you. It wasn’t as if you wanted him to take you right then and there, in front of the entire office. 
In fact, you’re quite sure that no matter how horny you were, you’d have stopped him before he went any further that publically. But you weren’t as sure you wouldn’t have dragged him off to a supply closet and forced him down on his knees and under your skirt. 
To be short, you were pissed. He had left you, hot and bothered, on a day where you literally could get no relief from the heat. 
You watched him work for a while after that. His desk faced away from yours, which meant you could covertly watch him whilst he worked and he would be none the wiser. After catching yourself staring a hole into the back of his head for the fifth time in an hour, you  grunted out a curse and started packing your things up for the day. Unfortunately, you were just loud enough to catch the man’s attention. 
“Leaving so soon, princess?”
“Yes. It’s hot and I’m tired and I just want to go home and take a cold shower and get into bed.” You started packing your things up again, but you quickly noticed that Spencer was doing the same. 
“Are you leaving as well?” You asked, your stomach doing a small flip in apprehension of his answer. 
“Yeah. I’m also hot, and tired and a cold shower sounds amazing right about now.” 
You flushed at even the slightest change of a double meaning. Did he want to shower with you? Was he really going to step over that line? 
He continued to pack up his things calmly, and you did the same. You walked towards the elevator, and it wasnt until he reached from behind you to press the call button that you realised he was so closely following you. 
“And besides, your bed sounds amazing right about now.” The hairs on your neck stood up as he whispered into your ear, his hot breath fanning against your neck as you felt heat pool between your legs for the second time that day. You froze up like a deer in headlights, and as the elevator dinged open, you felt Spencer walk you in, press the button, and close the door before making his next move. 
“You didn’t answer me earlier, you know? When I asked about the dress? Do you think Garcia was right?” He had crowded you into one corner of the elevator, and your brain was still short-circuiting. Shit, maybe you were the one whose IQ was cut in half, because the man in front of you seemed more confident than you had ever seen him before. 
His placed his hands on the guard rail either side of you, as one of his legs found its way between yours and you let out a small whimper, then cursed yourself when you saw the smirk growing on his face. 
“Come on, Princess, use your words.” He teased again. 
“She wasn’t right.” You breathed out. “You looked at me a few times, but nothing too long and nothing…inappropriate, but-”
“But what?” He pushed his leg further into you, moving his hands to grip the fabric at our waist,  and suddenly you were counting your blessings that no other agent in the building had decided to use the elevator right now. 
“But you can’t keep your hands off of me.” His lips crashed into yours the second you finished your sentence, as you desperately grabbed at his hair, desperate to feel more and more of him against you despite the sticky heat. 
He pulled away reluctantly as the elevator came to a stop in the basement carpark, but you still desperately clung to him, pressing kisses into his jaw and down his neck as you breathed in the scent of his sweat on his skin. Your words had failed you, but your body was desperate to communicate exactly what you needed. 
He chuckled as he pulled you off of him, stroking your hair as he pulled you to your car. Opening the passenger side door for you and taking the keys from your bag, he placed a kiss to your temple, pulling away only enough to whisper into your ear. ”Which one of us can’t keep their hands off the other now?” 
You were hot and delirious and you were not going to interrupt him now. He climbed into the driver’s seat, something you knew he didn’t do often, and placed his hand on your leg again as he drove. 
“Spread your legs,” he ordered as soon as you were far enough away from the building. You complied immediately, not wanting to interrupt anything the man might do to you. “Good girl,” he mumbled as he immediately picked up where he left off earlier, rubbing your sensitive nub through your underwear. Your dress was pushed up now 
“You know, Garcia was right” he spoke again, his fingers snaking their way under the elastic of your underwear. You could only moan in surprise, desperately close to getting exactly what you wanted.  
“I have been staring at you this whole day. You came in this short dress, practically on display for anyone to see.” His fingers were now slowly circling your clit, going torturously slowly as you bucked up your hips for some much needed friction.  
“When you got me that glass of water, I followed you, you know. Watched you reach for the glass on the top shelf, saw your skirt riding up. We’re you so desperate for me to notice you that you put yourself on display for the entire office like a little whore?” You moaned in surprise as his words registered in your mind. 
You tried to reply, to deny and protest your innocence, but he chose that minute to thrust a finger into you, the awkward angle forced by your position in the car creating a beautiful friction. You started rocking your hips quicker against his hand, opening yourself up to him fully, and grabbing his wrist so he couldn’t pull away for a third time that day. 
“You can’t even deny it, Look at you using my hand to get yourself off. Are you gonna come for me? Gonna do it right here in your car?”  You moan out a yes as he adds another finger, stretching you out further as you whimper around him. 
“Fuck, yes Spence, I’m a whore, your little whore.” You feel that familiar coil in the bottom of your stomach tighten and soon your releasing yourself all over his hands.  Gasping for air, your head falls back on the passenger seat, and you release your grip on Spencer’s hands. 
“Good job, princess, you did so well for me. We’re almost home now, let’s get you in that shower.” You whimper a little, nodding as you allow your brain to settle once again, completely comfortable with letting Spencer take control and do whatever he needs to do with you for the rest of the night. 
-X-
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erwinsvow · 3 months
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it’s like you were put on this earth to bother rafe.
everyday, without fail, come some sort of request—rafe, let’s go get coffee. rafe, i want ice cream. rafe, i wanna go to bed. he tells you to go to bed and you whine immediately after, letting out a faint “not alone! not what i meant!” before he rolls his eyes, one huge hand settling on your hip and the other one on your back, throwing you over his shoulder and taking you to bed. 
once you finally get him there it’s all laughs and giggles and avoiding his gaze, getting shy again, refusing to tell him what you really want. he rolls his eyes and gives it to you hard, like he knows you need it, so you’ll fall asleep and let him finish his work in silence. and it works—for a few hours, that is. then you're up again, usually with more requests.
“rafe, they’re having a sale.” you fiddle with your R pendant, the way you always do when you want something and can’t find the words to just ask for it. for a girl pawing at his dick and begging for it raw half the time, you get awfully shy. 
“so? how many fuckin’ clothes do y’need?” 
“you’re the one who keeps ripping ‘em up! not my fault-”
he rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair.
"knock it off," he says, coming out louder and more frustrated than he meant.
then he watches you quiet down and scroll on your phone, biting your cheek. he thinks he messed up and made you cry. he feels bad the second it's done, because there’s definitely some pretty, tiny dress pulled up on the screen that you want to show him. 
he knows how your brain works at this point—you want him to get it for you, take you out to a cute dinner so you can wear it and then have him yank it off of you later that night. you won’t ask for it though, there’s your shyness again. 
you feel bad when he actually does buy you anything more than a six-dollar latte or a big ice cream that you can’t finish.
"what're you looking at?" he finally asks, not even a minute later, looking at your body resting on the complete other side of the bed now.
"nothing."
"you gonna do this right now?"
"do what?"
"just show me what you want."
"no, it's nothing. i'll just ask my other boyfriend for it, it's fine-"
before your sentence is finished, he's already on top of you, squishing your cheeks together, pinning you down. he stares into your eyes, maybe expecting tears, but they don't come. instead you look... satisfied. satisfied with yourself for riling him up like you wanted.
"yeah? other boyfriend?"
"jus' a joke, rafey." your voice comes out all quiet and squeaky since he's holding your face tight. your eyes are big and wide staring up at him. he hates that he's getting hard right now. he lets you go, rolling off and feeling your body sink into his bed.
“get your ass in the car.” it comes out as a statement, not a request. you comply immediately, leaning over to give him a wet, sloppy kiss before stumbling out of bed to grab your shoes. he gets up too, looking for his keys, when you come right back to give him a hug. you press your head against his chest, arms wrapped tight around his neck, eyes fluttering shut, breathing in his scent.
“thank you, rafe,” you murmur against his shirt.
“yeah, yeah, whatever,” he starts, but you don’t miss the way the tops of his ears are flushed with pink. “get the fuckin’ address for that place out-”
he does take you out to dinner, a cute place where he pulls out your chair for you and holds your hand in his on the table. he gets you flowers that match the color of your new dress, which are resting in the backseat of his car now. he kisses your cheek when he helps you put your jacket back on. then he slaps your ass when you’re getting into the passenger seat of his truck, because now it’s his turn to have fun with that dress.
later that night, close to sleep, you paw at his arm and ask for ice cream. the two of you are on the road five minutes later. he turns his head at the red light to watch you lick your cone. then you hold it up to his mouth so he can have some too, smiling and laughing when he takes a big bite.
he's starting to think he likes when you bother him for stuff.
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prettymonegasque · 5 months
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not acceptable
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Charles Leclerc x fem!driver! reader
Summary: Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do when your pretty boyfriend is a lil dumb
Warnings: Excessive cursing, Lando slander, grown men sharing a single brain cell, fluff?
Word Count: 1.3k
Based on my favourite scene in Schitt’s Creek
In all the two years you’ve been in Ferrari, the speculations and rumours of you dating Charles were non-stop. Neither of you paid much attention to it. You were both in happy relationships. However, that changed in the summer of ‘22 when you broke up with your partner. It wasn’t messy and you both agreed it was for the better. You focused on the rest of the season. 
Fast forward to the summer of ‘23, you and Charles were both single. You decided to give in to the speculations and give the relationship a real shot. You went on a few dates, each one being more fun than the previous one. Yet neither of you took the leap to become exclusive. You both liked each other but it wasn’t said out loud as much as you would’ve wanted to. So when Charles invited you to a game night with his friends, you thought it would be the one where he introduced you as his girlfriend. 
You knocked on his apartment door at 7 pm. You had brought a charcuterie board because you panicked and the first thing your mind thought was cheese. 
“Y/N! Come in.” Charles opened the door and hugged you. You tried your best to return while managing the charcuterie board. He laughed at your struggle, took the board from your hand and led you in. You spotted some familiar faces in the room. “Hey, guys. This is Y/N. My teammate as you know.” To risk being dramatic, the only description for what you felt was “death by a thousand cuts”. You still forced a smile and greeted everyone. You took a seat on the sofa next to Charles. “You brought a charcuterie board?” Pierre asked puzzled. “Dibs on gouda.” Yelled a familiar Brit.
**************
For the next few hours, you forced yourself to forget about your “teammate” and focus on the game instead. To everyone’s surprise, you were very good at Monopoly. You had already collected over $7000 worth of assets. You were more than happy to win by default. Arthur suggested Uno and everyone complied. You had never played it before which made the group very happy. 
When you got your cards you leaned over to Charles and whispered “What the fuck should I do now? ” Charles peeked at your cards and by instinct you shied them away from him. “You have to show me the cards so I can tell you what to do.” He laughed. You rolled your eyes and showed him the cards. “How the hell did you get 3 +4 cards?” “Why? Is that bad?” “No no. It is very good and I am very grateful my turn is before you.” “I am gonna crush these motherfuckers” You silently giggled.
“Y/N your turn,” Andrea called out. You placed the +4 card on the table. “Seriously?” Lando sighed and took 4 cards from the deck. “I thought you'd never played this before.” “I haven’t. I’m just that good, Norris.” “You know you could put all the +4 cards at once? ” Charles whispered in your ear. When your turn came again you placed both your +4 cards down. “Oh come on. You’re an absolute ass.” Lando exclaimed. “You just got destroyed by a UNO rookie, Lando” Pierre doubled over in laughter. “Also you have only one card left. You can call out UNO” Arthur nudged you. “UNO!” You yelled. “Well, I guess we have a winner. ” Lorenzo sighed and folded.
You started feeling a little guilty. Your winning spree kept cutting the game short. It didn’t look like anyone was having any fun. Even if Charles isn’t going to introduce you as his girlfriend, you still want his friends and brothers to like you as Charles’ girl. Charles brought in Scrabble as his last resort. He wasn’t expecting to go through 2 games so quickly. You were chosen as the judge. You promised yourself to go easy on everyone. You weren’t sure if you were making a good impression on everyone but boy did your ego love this. 
**************
“What do you mean ‘rizz’ isn’t accepted?” Arthur yelled. “Mate it isn’t in the dictionary.” “Then why does everyone call Lando ‘NoRIZZ’?” “Hey!” “I consider it as an acceptable word. We know the meaning. It exists. It’s a word.” You chimed in. “Thank you!” Arthur smiled and added 13 points to himself. The game continued and you limited yourself to simple words. And you accepted every word regardless of how ridiculous it was. 
“Yes Pierre ‘Fuck’ is a word.” 
“I mean we all know what ‘OMG’ is”
“Sure, Charles. You can make Frenglish words.” 
You could physically feel the pain from the insanity of some words but you were on a mission. You nodded and smiled and carried on. The words became chaotic by the minute. Your last straw was when Lando argued that “Skibidi” should be accepted. 
“That’s it. I can’t take this shit anymore. I respect the game too much to put up with this. You are way too old to use the word ‘Skibidi’, Lando.” “Yeah so wrong, Lando” Pierre fakes disappointment. “You! Fuck is not acceptable.” “Not acceptable. Yes sorry, Y/N” He bites back a laugh. “OMG!? Are you kidding me?” “I wasn’t.” Lorenzo shakes his head. “And my boyfriend sits there looking pretty and wanting to make up Frenglish words. THAT’S NOT EVEN A LANGUAGE. NOT ACCEPTABLE!” 
“I’m sorry. What did you just say?” Charles looked up at you. “I said Lando is old.” You tried to shift the conversation. “Why the fuck am I getting slandered?” “No. I think it was something about your boyfriend being pretty and making up words.” Charles redirects you. “Um... I don’t remember saying that.” You mumbled. “Yeah no. That’s what we heard. Right Arthur?” Pierre snickered. 
“Hey if my girlfriend says Frenglish isn’t acceptable then it isn’t, guys” Charles smirked. “Or it is. I don’t remember saying it.” You shrugged. “So you can do whatever you like.” The ceiling looked much more interesting than the gorgeous green eyes looking at you. “I think our work is done here. Let’s go guys.” Lando stood up. “And what exactly was that work, Norizz?” You called out as everyone was walking out the door chattering. Lando just smiled at you and closed the door. 
You and Charles remained quiet and just looked at each other for a long moment. “I don’t k-” “Do you r-” You both spoke at the same time. Gentle giggles echoed in the silence. “I was gonna ask if you regretted it?” Charles looked at you with a hopeful glint in his eyes. “No. God no. Charles, I don’t regret it at all. But to be honest, I kinda thought you hosted this game night to introduce me as your girlfriend. It sucked ass when you called me your teammate.” You looked down at your feet. You contemplated if sitting down would make this whole shebang less awkward. But Charles quietened your thoughts by standing up and taking your hands in his.
 “Cherie, seconds before you knocked, I was having a full-blown panic attack. I really really like you and I wanted us to be official but I didn’t know what you felt. The guys were there for emotional support because I do not trust myself with any high-risk situation.”
“You drive a car at 300 km/hr almost every weekend.” 
“Please. That is nothing compared to you. Every time I get in the cockpit, I’m more worried about your safety than mine. I was going to introduce you as my girlfriend. Trust me the word was on the tip of my tongue but I was being a pussy and chickened out. I’m so glad you did it tho.” His smile made those adorable dimples pop as he hugged you. “I’m so glad I did it too.” Your voice came out muffled with your cheek pressed against his chest. 
“And I’m so glad you called me pretty.”   
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bluejutdae · 2 months
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“Oh, let there be hotel complaints” | Chan x you
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warnings: nsfw, D/s dynamics, face and pussy slapping, overstimulation, mention of safewords, Daddy kink.
This is just Chan brain rot and my mind gently suggested me the image of first time inexperienced Dom Chan who wants to try some BDSM but he’s too scared to hurt you so he decides he’a going to try on himself all that he’s gonna do to you…
Title from Dinner & Diatribes by Hozier
Chan has had plenty of vanilla sex, but then you introduced him to BDSM, and especially the concepts of Doms and Subs, and something switched in him. He started reading online forums and blogs. And when the topic arose again, he clearly told you he’s interested, but he won’t do it yet. Because the thing is: despite how hard even just reading stuff about it makes him, he has no experience, and he won’t risk hurting you.
So, he does what any good Dom should do in his eyes, he tries things on himself.
One day you turn home to find his face red and a bit swollen, but when you ask about it, he just distracts you with filthy kisses. What you don’t know is that he slapped and slapped and slapped himself until he deemed he had found the right strength to use.
Another day he disappears for the whole afternoon and, when you see him in the living room, he looks flushed and a little exhausted, but giddy. Just like Changbin when he maxes out at the gym and he’s incredibly tired but proud of himself. What you don’t know is that he spent the afternoon edging himself with a vibrator on his shaft and his tip and, after hours of denying himself, he came and proceeded to overstimulate himself, because it’s only logical to pair up the two experiences, right?
What you noticed though, is that there’s a change in him. He’s more assertive with you on some days, makes sure you eat and doesn’t let you go to sleep if you haven’t removed your makeup. Pushes you to sleep more when he knows you have had a bad day at work, and every time you comply and thank him for taking care of you, he kisses a little filthier, holds you a little firmer.
It’s months later when he asks if you can try something kinkier. You’re excited and happy and you start to mentally prepare yourself to be a good teacher without forgetting this is about pleasure. But then Chan shows you exactly how deep the still water runs deep.
“You’re gonna sit there” he says and he’s so commanding yet sexy you melt instantly. “And we’re gonna have a quick talk. Nothing too extreme is going to happen today, but I need to establish some rules”. You nod in response, and he looks at you with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. “You’re gonna use your pretty words, baby girl.” That’s it. Not a suggestion, not an option, a rule. Fuck, you knew he would be good at this.
“I understand.”
He’s quick with the rules: you must verbally answer, you’re gonna use the traffic light system for now, you must use the safe word if you need to, and the moment you think something’s wrong he’s gonna stop. You also must ask for what you want, not just take it.
Not too long later you’re on the bed, shirt previously discarded and clad only in your panties. And Chan is completely dressed, hovering over you. He’s been kissing you deeply and touching you just enough to make you want so much more. You’re embarrassingly wet and you’re sure you’ll have to throw away your panties. He’s holding your crossed arms at the wrists and, in doing so, he’s holding you down. You try to buck and raise your ass to relieve some of the dull aching you’re feeling in your core. “C’mon Channie, touch me.”
“But I am touching you…” he replies with a smirk on his lips. His free hand caresses your face, and he tests the gives of your lower lip with his thumb. When you suck on it, though, he takes it away and shakes his head. “What did I say?” You are lost, what happened? Did he say something?
“You’re just a cockhungry whore, uh? You can’t even wait for me to give you something, you’re so greedy you just want to take and take.”
Oh.
The realization in your face makes Chan smile. “There it is… tell me what you did wrong, and I might consider going easy on you.”
“I didn’t ask to suck your thumb-” he knows there’s something you want to add, he knows about your Daddy kink. And it turns him so fucking on, but he’s not gonna press about it. He considers your words and considers just letting it slide, but there’s flames licking at his insides.
“Too bad you didn’t ask, uh?”
Sudden, sharp pain irradiates on your left cheek and it’s less the pain and more the surprise that makes you gasp and, less than a second later, moan. Chan wants to apologize, years of conditioning making him feel guilty and mean and abusive, but he can’t deny what he feels.
He grabs your face, fingers splayed where he slapped mere seconds ago, wet thumb digging into the opposite cheek and kisses you messy and filthy, sucking your tongue in his mouth. Chan removes the last piece of clothing you have on and sits on his knees, with his thighs slightly spread apart. He holds your legs open with firm hands, one on your calf and the other clamped around your knee. He’s just… staring at your pussy. You try to squirm away and close your legs, but his eyes are suddenly on you. There’s a warning in his face that accompanies a displeased sound. “Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry” you blurt out trying to repair something before you do too much damage. You can feel wetness dripping down your folds, and Chan can too. “You’re so wet. Fuck, you love being on display for me…” He has never felt this. There’s a power rush, a shiver starting from his spine and moving towards opposite endings: towards his brain, making him lose words and making him want to act up, want to deliciously destroy you, making a mess of you and then put you back together; and on the other ending, traveling south towards his cock and balls. He’s been ready to cum the moment he sat you down and you agreed to do this.
“Love, are you just going to stare at me?” You ask when you grow too impatient to keep sitting still, a bit embarrassed too by his too focused staring. He shakes his head, and there is a quiet chuckle that can be heard in the room. His lips raise in a slow smirk, like he’s just been made aware of a secret, and you didn’t. And maybe he did.
Chan made plans for tonight. Plural. You told him you like not knowing everything in advance, so he planned different plans based on your responses to his actions. It was harder than organizing recording sessions. But since he saw your reactions earlier, he decides to stick to a precise plan. So, he acts in it.
Quickly and hard he delivers a slap on your inner thigh, the pain is a delicious sensation, hot and cold at the same time. A moment later the skin reddens to show Chan’s handprint and if possible, his cock gets ever harder. It twitches a little from where it’s hidden, head flushed and red, slowly but constantly leaking precum, forming a wet stain on his slacks .
“Fuck Chan!” You cry to his direction, eyes closed shut and brows knit in pleasure. You can feel heat where he hit you, and you want to press your fingers into it, wanting to feel the warmth and the pain and the pleasure. The moment you are ready to ask him for something, he delivers another slap in the same place. This time, though, Chan doesn’t let you breathe it out, doesn’t let you take your time to recover from it, no. He rakes his nails on your hot skin, watches as the skin quickly goes from red to white and to an even redder red where he scratched you. Digs his digits into your skin and revels in your gasps, feeling hot and ready to lose control, if a wind would blow in the room, he would cum in an instant. He’s ready for your next moan, your next gasp, but you’re quiet and your legs are trembling, and he’s scared he’s gone too far. He’s on the verge of apologizing, carrying you to the bathroom for a warm bath and cuddles and more apologies when he realizes he read you wrong. He didn’t give you too much, he gave you exactly what you needed, because -unbelievably so, for him- you’re coming. Clit untouched and your sopping hole twitching and throbbing around nothing, but you’re clearly coming. This is a different one, though. You’ve never been quiet while having an orgasm, but watching you with more attention calms him down, you look fine. He kisses you from your thigh to your cheekbone, stopping to nibble at your nipples, tongue lapping at your skin and sucking quick marks on you. “My pretty slut” a kiss on the nose, “you’re so greedy” a kiss on the right cheek, “your little pussy came untouched” a kiss on the forehead, “now I must give it some attention” a kiss on your chin. “Tell me your color?” He adds, tone sweeter and a hand caressing your face like you’re made of the finest glass.
“Green”. A smile appears on his face and he manhandles you to straddle his slacks covered thigh. Your wetness is seeping through the fabric, you squirm and he can see you’re embarrassed. “I told you I was gonna give it some attention. I want my baby girl to feel good.” He grabs you by your hips and forces you to move and grind your pussy on the fabric of his slacks. One of his hands sneaks into your hair and he pulls, stopping you from hiding into his neck. “No hiding. And stop hiding all your pretty sounds from me.”
The pleasure mixed with the overstimulation are overwhelming, and Chan’s new role is playing a big role in the moment and your arousal. His fingers are probably going to leave bruises in your skin, and you can’t wait to stand in front of a mirror to see them. Chan hands guide you back and forth and soon you’re clenching around nothing, “m’close Channie”, too desperate to control your movements.
“It’s okay, my baby. Just ask for it.” His hard cock is begging to be touched, still in the confines of his underwear and trousers. Yet, he has never been this hard and close to coming untouched. Your moans, the redness on your cheeks, the sweat matting your hair to your forehead and your incessant moans and cries of pleasure are making him lose his mind.
“Please Channie, can I cum?” You pant. “Let me cum, Daddy.” The last word is whispered, muffled into his shoulder but he hears it anyway. And he understands why you like it, the name giving him power, giving him a specific role, giving him the chance to give you exactly what you need.
“Then cum for Daddy.”
He watches you as cum, hands guiding your movements and his muscles flexing to give you as much pleasure as he can. He loves you like this, unabashed and free, vulnerable just for him.
But having you moaning and screaming his name is not enough. He doesn’t stop when you try to take a moment to collect yourself, he fixes his hold on your hips and forces your movements again. Back and forth, back and forth, again and again and it doesn’t matter how loud you whine, it doesn't matter your overstimulation, what matters now is making you cum another time. Anytime he pushes you towards him, he also pushes you down, setting an unforgiving pace that is torture on your sensitive clit. He’s relentless, but after just a few minutes you’re both rewarded with your legs clamping down on his thigh as you cum again. Unbelievably so, watching your second orgasm triggers his own orgasm and he moans your name loudly. He kisses you, messy and hungry, lips demanding and tongue insistent, claiming even your breath.
You’re gripping his shirt so hard, your fingers hurt. He delicately lays you down onto the bed and kisses you softly. As soon as his breathing comes back to normal, his worries come back too.
“Are you okay, baby? Did I hurt you? Was it too much? What do yo-“ you interrupt him with silly, quick kisses, trying to diminish his worries.
“I am more than okay.” A kiss. “I feel perfect.” A kiss. “You were perfect.” A kiss. “You’re always perfect, love.” A kiss. “I love you.” A kiss.
You kiss some more and he insists on showering together so he can take care of you and make sure you drink water and eat some fruit and chocolate. He tells you all about trying on himself what he did to you, and you’ve never loved him more.
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callingmelili · 1 year
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I want a boyfriend who edges me mercilessly for weeks on end just so he can break me completely.
I'm so very weak to denial and after just a few days I would be begging on my knees for him to let me come. He'd fuck my face and tell me no, not yet.
Then he'd wait until it's a Friday. I'd barely be aware of it with how dumb and desperate he would have me. By that point I would have tried everything to make him bend.
I'd be sitting on the couch, zoned out as he's told ne to rub while watching porn. "Why do the girls in the videos get to cum, baby?" He'd ask.
"I don’t know Sir... because they're prettier? " By that point I'd barely be coherent. "I can’t... think"
"Oh your brain is that fried?" He'd laugh. "Well why can’t you cum, then, little slut?"
"Because... Sir hasn’t let me..."
"And?"
"I'm Sir's fucktoy."
"And my fucktoy does as she's told, right?"
"Yes Sir."
"Anything?" He'd reach doen to grope my tits.
"Anything."
"Take off your clothes, fucktoy." He'd laugh as I raced to comply, sitting on the couch and motioning for me to take out his cock and sit on it. "You're ready"
I'd be unable to hide how hopeful that would make me even as he starts bouncing me on his cock so hard I can only moan and stick my tongue out like a total idiot. "For what Sir?"
"A little present, baby." Then he'd pick up his phone and make a call. "Yeah, you can come in."
In my direct line of view, the front door would open and his friends would come in, six or seven in all. "Wha-" He'd be fucking me so hard, though I'd barely be able to speak.
"You can come all you like now, fucktoy, all weekend actually. My friends are going to be using you." He'd grab me by the throat. "And by the way, you're not on birth control anymore."
And of course I'd cum my dumb lil brains out.
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sh1-n0bu · 8 months
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𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!
day 3: toys with xiao from genshin impact
warnings: usage of toys, dacryphillia, sensitive xiao, overstimulation, praise and degrading, multiple orgasm
notes: aiyaaaaa someone send me horni ideas to turn into my kinktober ones or ones that i could brainrot and eventually turn into a fic one
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xiao has always put his duties as a yaksha beforehand everything else. even his own needs and desires that rarely tend to show in the form of a small, barely noticeable bulge forming in his pants.
however, that problem had became more frequent lately and it’s all because of you, his one hell of a tease lover.
xiao had never thought of himself to ever be able to become turned on or horny as you put it. or even count himself as one to frequently palm his hardened cock through his pants where a small wet patch was growing slowly but steadily as he remembers how you fucked him so good the night before. or just recalling the words you muttered to him were enough to make his small cock stand up again as if begging for you.
the yaksha had also never thought of himself as the person to fall in love with an absolute pervert.
“darling~ guess what i bought today from that store?!”
ah yes. speak of the devil and they shall appear. never would have xiao thought of calling his lover the devil yet here you were, proudly holding up a bag of another sexual toys you’ve wanted to try on your inexperienced lover. you weren’t that much experienced either but you just loved to see the cruel and calculated yaksha turn into a common brothel whore.
two bullet vibrators taped to his hardened nipples, already on and turned to the lowest degree and yet he can already feel his chest feeling heavy as if about to lactate. xiao never tried such sexual activities before, he’s not used to such feelings or desires!
clenching his teeth again, xiao comes over the wand vibrator held over the drooling slit of his cock again for the nth time that night. gods, he felt so overstimulated. there were tears running down his cheeks, legs struggling to stay open the more you coo soft words of comfort and degrading nicknames as your hand twirls the vibrator around his cockhead, stimulating him more and more.
“guuhnn—! [na-name]!! slow—! unngya♡︎! slower!” the little yaksha in your hold arms squeals loudly like a girl, voice coming out all high-pitched and embarrassed. he said he wants the vibrator’s setting to be on the lower, but any lower and it would just turn off. and when you do comply to his wishes and turn it off, the immortal would keen loudly and buck his hips in your grasp with a fussy whine.
how unpredictable and… you would daresay, annoying.
“xiao-xiao… you need to be a good slut for me and keep it together! you can take a few more rounds. you’ve done it before” he can briefly hear your words in his mush of a brain. struggling to comprehend your words but when he does, he ends up cumming all over the vibrator again with a loud shrill moan.
“o-oohmp! okay!! okay♡︎ okayhhh—! i’ll… i’ll be a good slu-ungh! ungh! gcckk♡︎♡︎!!” nodding eagerly with a dumb slurred speech, xiao agrees to keep up with your sexual torture for longer.
he can do it. xiao can be your good slut. yours and no one else’s. he’s done it before, he had taken your many hours of vibrator torture before, he can do it now too!
by now, the yaksha had forgotten about everything except the feeling of the vibrators buzzing away on his sensitive places. duties of cleansing the land, hunting down remnants of old gods, his usually stoic nature. all of it were thrown out the window the moment the two small vibrators were taped to his chest, buzzing away and stimulating him.
poor xiao, unable to think. just moaning and squealing in delight as he comes over and over again. so many times to the point that now he was starting to shoot blanks on your hand.
such a sweet thing. not knowing that your little perverted games are only beginning.
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bunnyreaper · 7 months
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merrier the more
pairing - john price x f!reader x john mactavish
wc -  3.2k
warnings - 18+/nsfw, double vaginal penetration, wife sharing, unprotected sex
notes - after a million years i've finally gotten this out of my brain and written out! underrated threesome imo, lets goooo!! proofread but definitely not enough ♥
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Thursdays were date nights, almost every week without fail, unless John was on a mission. Even when paperwork keeps him tied to his desk into the dark of the night, you join him in his office with takeout and a good book, content to enjoy his company in silence. 
It was one of the keys to your marriage being as successful as it is, and both you and John agreed—quality time was a must. 
This Thursday was a break in routine—John's energy has been decidedly different since you stepped foot in his office. He's always a little on edge when you see him at work, his jaw and shoulders tight, but tonight there's a hint of determination in his eyes. 
Captain Price is present, rather than your husband, John. 
The second difference comes in the form of a knock on the door, usually, the two of you go undisturbed as your standing date is known among the 141, and none of the men dare interrupt and draw their captain's ire. On the rare occasion that a knock would come, words would be exchanged quickly before being dismissed. 
Tonight, John invites the guest inside.  
"Sit, Soap." John commands, his voice low and dripping with authority in a way that draws your attention. 
The younger man complies, seemingly not on edge—his usual cocky confidence is still in full swing, in defiance of your expectations of the situation. Whatever Johnny is here for, he's not to be reprimanded or to report something grim. 
Both men's eyes are firmly fixed on you, gazes roaming over the way you lounge in your pretty dress on John's shitty office couch, your legs exposed to both of them. 
"C'mere love," John speaks, rolling back his office chair and patting his thigh temptingly. "Need your help with something."
You rise uncertainty, leaving your book behind as you make your way over to your husband, your eyes darting between him and his subordinate. Neither man says a word, just continuing to watch you as you move closer to them. 
Your mind starts to race, thinking of just what John could possibly need your help with. Occasionally, he asks you to read one of his men's imperceptible handwriting or gets into a debate with you about whether his own reports make grammatical sense. 
Something tells you neither is the case this time. 
When you make your way around the desk, you fall into John's lap obediently, facing away from him and watching Johnny watch you. 
The look in his eyes is not something you're blind to, not now, not ever. John MacTavish has always wanted you. John Price has never let you forget it—he's teased you multiple times about his soldier's crush, and made you admit while being fucked mindless to being attracted to the younger man too. 
Your husband got off on knowing his power, knowing that you belong to him regardless of Johnny or any other man's wishes, and knowing that while your eyes can still appreciate other men, they'll never be enough compared to Price himself. 
You sit patiently and wait, deferring to John and his air of authority as you wait for him to speak whenever he is good and ready. The silence is thick, John's paw trailing across your thigh, up to your waist where he holds you still, his grip insistent. 
"Sergeant MacTavish here is about to become a Lieutenant." He begins again, graveled voice now right in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "If Soap is getting a promotion, I need to know he can get the job done." 
John snaps his fingers at the Sergeant, beckoning him around the desk as John spins you both to face where Johnny is now standing. His hands move back down your body to your thighs, parting your legs slightly by opening his own so that you sit spread. 
You know exactly where this is headed. Johnny's azure eyes burn into you as they spectate every single one of John's slow, luxurious movements—touches that slowly begin to undo you. The air in the room thickens, and your skin burns under John's fingers. 
Johnny's eyes flicker away, and you can tell the captain is holding his gaze. 
"Need to know I can depend on him, and that he can do what he needs." He purrs, his tone filled with intent. "That he'll take what he wants, yeah?"  
John pulls up the hem of your dress, exposing your now-soaked panties to his sergeant and delighting in the way you both shiver in response—you from being exposed, Johnny from finally getting to lay eyes on intimate parts he'd only dreamed of. 
You stay obediently frozen as John teases you further—the whiskers of his beard tickling at your neck as he smirks, his fingers stroking so softly up your inner thighs.
When you look back and catch Johnny looking you right in the eye, you swear you can feel yourself gush—he looks like he wants to devour you whole. 
"He's always wanted you, love. Isn't that right, sergeant?" 
"Yes, sir." Johnny agrees so eagerly, but the look he sends your way is anything but submissive. His grin is almost predatory, his anticipation and arousal clear after years of lusting after you from afar. 
Johnny finally comes closer, his hands settling on the arms of John's chair as his face stops inches away from your face—hot breath sweeping over your features. One hand moves to clutch at your jaw, demanding your attention as if it wasn't already entirely focused on him. "Tonight, you're mine." 
He growls the words before diving in for a searing kiss, his actions rough and hungry, bordering on violently enthusiastic. His stubble is so different from John's softer brush, nipping at your sensitive skin. 
"Only for tonight, MacTavish." Your husband growls from behind you, pulling your hips back into his hard cock as a reminder. He might be sharing you, but it's just this once. You'll always be his. 
As Johnny kisses you fervently, his hands begin to wander too, groping at your tits as John continues to hold you steady as he works his erection into your ass. While the sergeant occupies your mouth, John sucks kisses into your neck, humming at the feel of you falling apart under both men's touches. 
You gather just enough strength to surface for breath—panting and shaken under their joint attention. Neither of them shows signs of stopping. While your husband was offering you to another man, he wasn't going to sit back and watch either. 
"Both of you?" You gasp, words unsteady and breathless. Handling John under normal circumstances was hard enough, throwing Johnny into the mix might just break you. 
You shiver with need as the men share a laugh, and John's hand slips up to embrace the column of your neck. "Someone has to show him how to do it, love." 
The two men dive back into making you fall apart, a flurry of lips and hands tearing you apart at the seams and driving you mindless with each touch. 
"Fuuuck." Johnny practically whines, his hands falling to grope at your tits and pull them free out of the top of your dress. 
His hands are calloused and warm in a familiar way, but his movements are quick and rough and make you squirm under his touch. The two sets of hands on you are almost too much already, as well as John's erection rubbing against your core. 
A quick flicker of your gaze to the sergeant's jeans shows he's similarly affected, and the sight of his hard cock straining against the denim has you wanting. 
It's hard to think straight with every sensation you feel, every thought consumed by the two men ravaging you—yet your mind flickers back to the conversation you and John had months ago now, the one where he mentioned sharing you. 
You turn your head to the side, snuggling into your husband's cheek as you whisper to him. "I always thought it'd be—" 
He interrupts you with a greedy kiss, before freeing you to continue speaking. "—Simon, if you ever actually went through with this..." 
You sigh through your words, Johnny almost biting at you when he hears the other man's name fall from your lips.
The truth is, you had thought it'd be Simon that John invited into the bedroom first, as his trusted right hand and someone he knew would be discreet. Clearly, though, your husband had been paying more attention to your soft spot for the sergeant than you thought. 
How long had he been concocting this plan? Waiting for the opportunity to have you at Johnny's mercy too. 
Said man's voice pulls you out of your thoughts and back to the smirk on his face and the sparkle in his eyes. "Don't tell me yer disappointed, bonnie." 
You can tell from the way his voice drips with amusement that he knows you're anything but. The easy confidence has always been part of his charm, but as he toys with your breasts and stares down at you expectantly, knowing exactly what he's doing to you—that confidence feels like lightning down your spine.
"Far from it, Johnny." You whisper, finally taking an action of your own and pulling the man in for another kiss. It's sloppy and messy, more teeth and tongue than lips, but Johnny's mouth tastes so good, and his need is evident in every single brush of him against you. 
His hands climb to cup your jaw, holding you exactly as he wants you as his tongue explores your mouth and dances with yours—it's dirty the way he kisses, the way he groans into your mouth as you thread your fingers into his mohawk, the way he swallows your own moans as John bucks up from below you. 
Johnny pulls away, his chest heaving as he presses his forehead against yours and holds you in a tender moment. "Ye must have a thing for blue eyes, aye?" He smirks once more, and you wish you could protest, but the sparkling blues had been what captured your attention first about both men. 
One set belonging to the man that you married, one set belonging to the man you'll now get to fuck. 
The blue eyes before you flicker down, breaking the connection as his hands wander lower—down past your breasts, brushing past your husband's on their way to your thighs. He grasps greedily at your softness, kneading his touch into your skin as he parts your thighs, exposing your soaked panties to his burning gaze. 
"'m gonna touch that little kitty of yours now." He purrs, his curled finger brushing across your sensitive inner thighs in a way that makes your legs squirm—even more so when he traces up the hem of your panties.
"Didn't say you could, MacTavish." Your husband all but growls, his usual authority bursting through him.
Johnny ignores his captain entirely, his fingers pushing your panties aside to plunge deep into your weeping cunt—he curls them against your walls, a wolfish smirk directed at you, watching you flail as he continues to disregard John's words in favour of driving you crazy. 
"Don't remember asking, captain." He snarls in response, taking control. 
The sound of your cunt getting ravished by Johnny's fingers fills the room, drawing sweet whines out of you. One hand works to find the best angle to scrape against your spongy walls, his other coming to replace John's as he holds your neck and stares you down. 
You feel a shift, a moment where Johnny's attitude changes from cocky confidence to earned authority, him taking encouragement from the way you fall apart under his touch and writhe in the lap of your husband who isn't currently the cause of your pleasure. It has Johnny soaring, and you can tell he's falling into the new headspace with ease. 
"He's a quick study, John." You whisper. 
"Clothes off, yeah, lass?" Johnny tugs you to your feet, holding you steady in his arms for a moment before he eagerly strips you off your clothes.
Your dress comes off first, revealing your tits hanging out of the cups of your bra, and the way your panties settle on your hips, digging into your skin. Johnny's hands move to roam over each piece of your exposed body, kneading and admiring, his eyes ablaze like the hottest part of a flame. 
Then he works to rip off your underwear, leaving you bare before both men. "Fuckin' hell don't know how you tear yerself away from her." 
"Feels impossible some days." John purrs as he stands from his chair, paws falling to your waist once more.
Both men grope at you—Soap pulling you in for another kiss, John nibbling at your neck. Your legs almost give out from beneath you, and you know you'd be so unsteady were it not for being pinned between the two men's bodies.
It's overwhelming. John on his own is enough to bring you to your knees, but him and Johnny, with his blessing? Each touch, each kiss has you whining—high-pitched and almost brainless as your mind fizzles with pleasure. 
Johnny holds you close, pressing his solid body against yours—rough fabric and a hard cock against soft skin. He watches your expression as his fingers dip back into your soaked folds, as your husband's fingers roam over your ass and into your hole. The two men work in tandem to reduce you to a quivering mess, vicious fingers making you drip down their hands and your own thighs.
Johnny flicks your clit absentmindedly as his other hand moves to work on freeing himself from his jeans, pushing his boxers aside to reveal a long, slender, leaking cock. 
"Wow, bonnie girl. Yer that excited for me? Or dae ye just really like yer husband sharing ye?" He purrs as he strokes his length languidly, teasing you with the sight of his pre-cum leaking down the head, as well as the way he squeezes his member. 
You laugh breathlessly, unable to summon a real response until the men's fingers still inside you. "We'll see... how you fuck first, sergeant. Don't let me down." 
Both men share a chuckle, but Johnny is the first to act, with strong hands wrapping around your thighs and hoisting you into the air. 
Johnny gives you a devilish smirk as he hovers you inches away from his cock. "I never back down from a challenge, lass." 
He eases into you slowly, lowering you down and stretching you on his length, each delicious inch pushing its way inside in an almost torturous way. He’s not as thick as your husband, but he might just be longer, as he finally seats himself inside and the tip of his cock bullies your cervix. 
"Fuck, fuck." The sigh that releases from you is beyond shaky, betraying the deep effect Johnny’s cock has on you.  "So deep." 
"He feel good, love?" John asks, stepping up behind you, his voice close to your ear and his hands guiding you up and down the other man’s cock.
"Y-yeah." 
He clicks his tongue in approval, speaking again with honeyed words that make you keen. "Good girl, keep taking him for me." 
John mostly watches, his hands remaining on you, yet passive, as Johnny starts to move. The younger man thrusts with fervour, bouncing you onto his dick over and over and over again, not satisfied until he has you crying out for more and babbling. 
Johnny certainly knows how to move his hips, knows how to fuck—he eases off the second you show any discomfort, and is quick to learn the exact pace and motion that makes you moan the loudest. If you could think straight, you’d wonder if John had already given him strict instructions on exactly how to fuck you. Of course, he’d have planned this to a T.
Your nails scrape up Johnny’s muscled back, clinging to him desperately as he continues to shove his cock into your wet hole, as John’s hand snakes around your waist to toy with your clit. Both men are clearly intent on ruining you. Your insides twist, your head falling back into your husband's chest as you just feel.
Johnny’s hips abruptly stop, buried deep inside you in a way that blanks out all your thoughts. "Need your help, captain." He grumbles over your shoulder.
"What with?" 
"Think she needs her husband's cock inside her too. Stuff tha' pretty cunt completely full, yeah, bonnie?" Johnny raises a brow at his captain, waiting for the man to make a move. 
Each second drags as your husband considers the situation and you're left needy and waiting, Johnny's hips entirely still—John's hands on you inactive too. 
The idea of being stretched by both of them at the same time sends you wild, two gorgeous cocks stuffing your hole full. 
"Please, John." You start to babble, unable to control your own pleas. "Need you both, need you both, need—" 
John's cock slides between your ass, nudging forward until he knocks against where Johnny is buried inside you. The sensation on its own has both you and Johnny bucking.
"That kind of thinking'll take you far, sergeant," John whispers before his fingers crawl down your skin to where you and Johnny are connected, and he starts to guide the head of his cock into your hole. "Shhh, nice and slow, gotta stretch you out for both of us, love." 
“Gonna be a tight squeeze, bonnie.” Johnny mutters, his voice showing signs of further strain as his captain’s cock rubs against him.
The stretch is painful, John’s girthy cock bullying its way inside and forcing you to accommodate him alongside the sergeant—you know you won’t be sitting right anytime soon, and you couldn’t be happier.
Your hole burns with each inch your husband slides in, pleasure only beginning to come when his head brushes against your g-spot—after that, he slips right in, your cunt reshaping itself in acceptance and swallowing his cock.
"Fuck.” You pant, barely able to catch your breath, and no one has even moved yet. You can’t think straight, can’t breathe right, can’t even really contemplate the way your body is being overwhelmed by the two men. All you can do is whine and moan and cry out. "It's too much!" 
John holds your hips steady as he presses kisses to your shoulder, and Johnny runs a hand through your hair—both men cooing reassurances at you.
"Ye can take it, fer me and the captain. I know ya can." 
“You can do the work, sergeant, make her feel good, yeah?”
Johnny nods once before springing into action, his cock gliding out of your pussy before forcing its way back in, squelching against John’s length as it goes and drawing groans from both men.
It doesn’t take long Johnny's pace to escalate, as he shoves in repeatedly and thrusts both his own and John’s cock deeper inside you. You feel your brain slip into a haze of pleasure, all thoughts becoming incoherent as moan after moan makes its way from your throat. 
"There we go, love. Stuffed full of two cocks, how'd you like it?" Your husband asks before turning your head to face him, and then devouring your lips in a passionate, loving kiss.
"Love it, love it so much." You whisper against him. "Fuck me, John, Johnny, please."
The two men thrust together momentarily, forcing you to the limit of what you can take from both of them—smirks dance across their faces, both beyond pleased to have you pinned between them.
"Cannae wait until we're both filling ye with our cum."  Johnny purrs as he buries himself deep.
"You'd love that, wouldn't you, gorgeous girl?" 
1K notes · View notes
thexsilentxwordsmith · 9 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x FWB!Reader
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon "Ghost" Riley, Reader
Summary: Simon is getting more and more obsessed with his little friend who constantly finds herself in his bed. But when you are off on a quick mission for a few weeks, Simon begins to grow restless and this no strings attached messing around finds itself being turned on its head. What happens when you get a text from him the day you get back, in the middle of the day?
Word Count: 4.8 k
Warnings:
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Part 1:
Late Night Texts
Whatever spell you had cast, whatever potion you had had the Lieutenant drink down he didn’t know, but there had to be some preternatural reason that he could not get enough of you no matter how much he had. You were in his very veins, in the marrow of his bones, in the crevasses of his brain; he was completely head over heels for you and it was only growing by the day.
Your visits to his room under the shroud of darkness were becoming almost nightly at this point, his texts popping up so frequent that no matter when your phone vibrated after dark, you knew it would be him asking if you were on your way over back to his quarters. There was no complaints, however, as you could not get enough of his very particular brand of ecstasy.
You both were in so deep that it was becoming more than just an occasional hook up now and that was only demonstrated more when one night after another round of steamy hot body parts interlocking in that specific way that led to both of you experiencing that little death, he made a request of you that you had not expected.
“What?” you asked as Ghost stared back as you, brow furrowed and mouth contorted as if he were deep in thought while he lay beside you in the bed.
That stoic man knew that what he was going to ask you was going to sound obsessive, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t about to deny himself just to save face; as if his nightly texts weren’t already making him look like a lust-drunk teen. Ever since he hit it that first time, he had not been the same and it only compounded each time he got it until whatever composure he had flew away.
“I… need ya to keep your phone on ya at all times,” he said.
You weren’t one to always keep your phone with you outside of your barracks, not unless you were off duty or it was after hours. It was a nuisance to constantly be drawn to look at it when you were busy and you hated being controlled by it, but the moment he told you to keep it on you there was nothing else for you to do; you had to comply.
“Keep it on vibrate,” he continued, “in case I need to reach ya.”
You smirked. “Strictly military business, correct?”
A deep roll of his eyes met your sarcasm. “Ya fuckin’ know what it’s for,” he said with an incredulous shake of his head.
“Fine…I can do that,” you played with a wink.
A large hand roughly palmed your cheek, eyes drifting over the features of your face as the need to kiss you again grew unbearable. “You did say ya wanted to be my problem, yeah? Well, now ya have to be the solution too.”
“Who said I didn’t want to?”
“Good girl,” he praised before pulling you forward into him once again. “Good girl.”
It was only a couple of days since you had strictly been carrying around that small rectangular object in your pocket at all times when the Lieutenant finally utilized it, making you meet him in the ammunition depot for a quickie during lunch. There was no time to waste as he pulled you inside and immediately got to work, having you coming faster than you thought you’d be able to, mostly from the rush of the forbidden nature of this lewd bit of sneaking around. How you were both able to get in and out in such an easy manner was astounding, but Ghost did have rank on the base so you were sure he had pulled a few strings to make such a filthy thing possible.
It seemed like you both were living on cloud fucking nine, but as life always tends to do nothing can ever be that simple.
As if to shake up your lives, a wrench got thrown into everything. A mission, close to just over a month, was assigned to your squad and there was nothing you could do but leave behind your prefect situation to go out into the field.
“Keep your phone with ya,” he reminded you and you did.
Week one of your departure wasn’t so bad; Ghost was able to distract himself enough that he was able to at least get through the day without thinking about you constantly. He took on more work, volunteered his time, anything to keep him busy until he was too tired to do anything other than head back to his quarters and pass out.
Then week two hit and he started to feel your absence. It began small, his mind would wander to his phone, trying to think up some sort of message he could send you that wouldn’t make him sound too desperate. He’d ask about how things were going, if the weather there was just as shit as back at base, just random things to hear from you. And he realized that his heart would skip a beat each time his phone vibrated, thinking it was you.
By the last week before your return, he could hardly keep still. Fuck he needed you more than he needed food or sleep, he pined for your company again as a starving man pines for food. His hand would never do to satisfy him like you did and it frustrated him that he could not focus because his cock was constantly straining against the barrier of his pants and his body craved to feel your own against it. Every day he checked to see if your squad had returned and each day there was nothing made his heart sink into his feet.
On the other end you were faring just as badly. You did your job just as you were supposed to, keeping your focus mostly on the task at hand, but when you had those moments of freedom it was spent on thinking about the countless nights you had spent in his company already and how you genuinely missed being in his presence as was what you had grown accustomed to.
Things were only made worse when he would text you, drawing attention to the fact that you were separated for the immediate future. Each day droned on and on in endless fashion until you were able to check your phone and see the scant few texts from him that had you holding on until you could be filled with him once again.
And yet it was more than that…though you didn’t know if you could admit it yet. Secret worries crept in that made your mind misfire with fears that he could possibly have moved on in your absence, those anxieties lacing themselves within your bodies need for him, and by the time you and your squad finally were able to return to base you were a wreck. The moment you stepped foot back on home turf you were acutely aware of everything and you wondered with palpating heart just where your lover was.
The team had returned around midday and that meant everyone was given a couple hours for lunch before debriefing would begin. A few of your mates had wrangled you into eating with them and though you hesitated at first, ultimately you gave in. Checking your phone and not seeing anything popping up on the screen sealed the deal; at least they would offer a distraction until you could find a second to see Ghost again.
About half an hour in, your phone buzzed in your pocket as you took another bite of your lunch. Ignoring it as to not be suspicious, you focused back on the conversation happening in front of you until it went off again and again in rapid succession, clearly trying to get your attention and fast.
Discreetly as you could under the table, you pulled the small rectangle out of your pocket and checked the lock screen as your heartbeat was in your ears. Three short texts glared back at you, simple and easy to read in a hurry.
My office.
Now.
Don’t wait.
You hadn’t even read the name of the sender, but you already knew who it was beckoning you in the middle of the day; there was only one who would be desperate enough to risk getting caught like this, but you weren’t about to deny him. It had been long enough you two had been apart that you had to see him again that instant.
Omw
You quickly sent back and in an instant there was a reply.
Got five minutes to get here.
Making up some bullshit excuse to break away from your group, you rushed out of the mess hall and towards the officer’s building that housed their private offices. Your steps were quick, but metered in such a way as not to draw any unwanted attention; no sense in causing yourself to waste time by getting caught up with someone asking where it was you were off to in such a hurry, especially when debriefing was happening so soon.
There was tightness in your chest as time seemed to slow down to an agonizing crawl. Logically you knew that you were almost there, but even with the building looming on the near horizon, it still seemed to take forever to reach it and all you desperately wanted to do was get to him as quick as you could.
The cool air of the officer’s building hit you and you could feel a shiver vibrate through your body; when had you gotten so warm? No time to analyze that as you had more important things to focus on.
You had been inside the building a few times, but never to Ghost’s office in particular and so it took you a minute to locate the room that had his nameplate on the door. Stepping up to the last barrier you both had between you, your heart leap violently in your chest as you raise a balled fist to the wood.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sound of knuckles tapping on wood sounded through the small office and Ghost looked up just as the door was cracked open and his breath hitched when his eyes met your face that had just appeared through to the other side.
“You needed to see me sir?” you asked, blood pressure rising and heartbeat thudding wildly inside your chest; you had to keep up appearances to anyone who might be passing by, but you wanted nothing more than to just sprint straight to him and shred his fatigues from his perfectly sculpted body.
Ghost was on his feet in an instant, his pulse now racing liquid hot through his veins at the very sight of you suddenly before him again; he was already on edge the moment he had learned you were back as he waited for a free second in his busy day to call you to him. Now seeing you here in front of him again after such a profound gap of time spent apart sent him into a tailspin.
“Come in and shut the door, private, we need to have a chat,” he ordered roughly, playing his part effortlessly, and you did so without having to be told any more than that.
As soon as he heard the door latch he was on his feet, crossing the length of the room with quick steps that matched his accelerated breathing as he ripped his balaclava up and over his head to discard it somewhere on the floor. “Lock it,” he said abruptly and you immediately followed orders.
You turned back around and Ghost was on you before you could move further, closing his eyes and leaning in with his mouth to immediately connect your lips ferociously together before any of your other parts could touch yet. You had to be quick, there was no guarantee of how much free time you would have before someone could come around, but still he had to take a moment to enjoy that initial reunion of your mouths. Face pressed snugly against the contours of your own, wet, sloppy mouths crushed together in waves of aggressively frantic kisses as if he had completely forgotten the taste of your lips and it had been torturing him to insanity.
His hand moved out from his side and searched for yours until he found it, interlocking those long digits in the empty spaces between your own. Even in the fiery desperation with which he devoured your lips embraces, his touch was still incredibly tender as his hand stayed locked in yours.
“Goddammit, I missed you, luv,” he groaned through pauses in your mouths connection. “Missed you so fuckin’ much I couldn’t stand it. The second I got wind you were back, I couldn’t wait…had to see ya now.”
Your lungs begged for air, but you couldn’t tell him to stop as his free hand locked on to the back of your neck to force your face even harder against his mouth; he was trying to drown in you and you didn’t want him to stop, even with his roughness causing your lips to swell hot and sensitive from the pressure.
“God, sweetheart, how I’ve missed these fuckin’ lips,” he grunted in hushed whispers into your open mouth as his forehead rocked on yours. His cock was straining harshly against the zipper of his pants, tenting the fabric as he ground it into the muscle of your thigh. “Can’t stand bein’ away from ya at all anymore. I was in agony waitin’ for ya to return.”
Your chest tightened while your stomach plunged into your shoes; his need was overwhelming and intense as if it could swallow you whole and fuck were you ready to let it. Rough fingers squeezed down on your hand, using it as a way to ground himself to stop from being ripped apart with the strength of his desire. Your bodies were so close you swore he was trying to fuse you both together.
“Wish I had more time, I wanna suck on those fuckin’ juicy tits of yours so fuckin’ bad,” he groaned as the feeling of your breasts pressed against his chest caught his attention. “Been missin’ those too. Shit, I’ll be honest, there ain’t a part of ya I haven’t been cravin’ like crazy, baby.”
Acting off of pure impulse and adrenaline alone, you reached towards him with your free hand and latched on to his belt, pulling at the hindrance as if you could will it off without having to use any of the fine motor skills that you currently did not have access to as you slipped into that primal state of knowing nothing else other than to satiate the throbbing between your thighs.
Your fingers grazed the tip of his cock through the fabric of his pants and he hissed, his torso contracting from the intensity of that first contact; he had become engorged so quickly that it was painfully sensitive to the touch.
Ghost released your hand to reach over to your own belt, still enough faculty available to him to go about undressing you, though that was quickly waning as your own neediness fueled even more of his desperation for you. “I need ta be inside of ya, luv,” he breathed, resting up against the side of your cheek. “Need it so fuckin’ bad I can almost taste it.”
A light jingling hit your ears as he unlocked your belt from itself and let it fall loosely to hang in the belt loops as he moved on to the button and zipper, undoing them just as easily before everything was shoved down to the floor in one swift motion. His hand moved on top of yours still clinging to the band around his waist, guiding the unsteady fingers on your hand to make you undo the buckle yourself.
The backside of your hand pressed against the soft skin of his pelvis as you slipped inside the waistband of his pants to undo them and shit was he boiling. “Take it out,” he groaned as you got the damned button to release.
A jolt like an electrical current ran through him, shivering up the length of his spine as you plunged those silky soft palms within the confines of his pants and caught his rock hard member in your grasp. Unconsciously his hips bucked into your hand as you situated him so that he was now outside the fabric.
With your hand wrapped around the girth of his cock, you could not stop the urge to stroke the length of it. It pulsed and jolted against the skin of your palm as you worked it up and down and a tiny, almost imperceptible whimper escaped his lips as Ghost unraveled at your touch. All that pent up frustration that had plagued him for the past month and some change burst at the seams and he couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Can’t wait; I have to make you cum, right fuckin’ now,” he said, the agony pervasive in his gravely, low tone.
Grabbing you by the hand Ghost drug you the short distance across the room to his desk, spinning you so that your back was to it. With his hand under your arms he picked you up and set you on the surface, not caring about the papers currently strewn about across the top that now lay under the padding of your bare ass.
Scooting so that you were at the very edge of the tabletop, you immediately spread your legs open wide, only wanting to feel him and not wanting to waste even a second more of time where you both were not connected. He took the invitation to move in, placing his hand on your sex to check how ready you were for him; there was moistness against his palm, but he wanted to be sure you were well lubricated.
There was no more time to wait so he would have to improvise just to be certain you were wet enough; the last thing he would ever want to do was hurt you. Gathering all the saliva he could in his mouth, he spit into his hand and quickly coated the area thoroughly. Your legs twitched from his fingers rubbing up against your sensitive clit as he went. “I fuckin’ swear we’ll do this proper later, just gotta be quick this time,” he reassured. “Tonight I’ll savor ya proper, sweetheart.”
Aligning his cock with your entrance those hardened fingers dug into your bare hips to steady himself as he thrust careful inside you. He watched closely as he slipped it in, his body shuddering as it reacted to him being wrapped fully in you down to the hilt. You whined as he stretched you to capacity, your pussy needing a minute to readjust to his size; it had been a hot minute after all since he had filled you this full.
“Goddammit, luv,” he groaned with a hiss, eyes clamping shut as he struggled to hang on to sanity, “don’t you ever leave me again. I don’t ever wanna fuckin’ miss this.”
Catching his cheek with your hand, Ghost opened his eyes to your touch and you pulled his face closer to yours. “Never if I can help it,” you breathed as you crashed your lips on his again; you needed something to make sure you stayed quiet as he began to forcefully thrust in and out of you, all that longing he had done in your absence culminating in his movements now.
It had only been a few short minutes of him pumping all he had into you, but he was already completely drunk off the feeling of your tight, wet core sucking him with voracity each time he rocked into it. His burning mouth stayed locked onto yours for a little longer, just to be sure you had a handle on the sound before he released it.
“Can’t stop… how much… I need ya…” he panted quietly between desperate thrusts. “Down so bad for ya… sweetheart.”
“Fuck, I was so miserable without you,” you admitted sheepishly. “My fingers are sore.”
The longing in your voice was palpable and Ghost could not get enough. “Missed me like fuckin’ crazy, didn’t you sweetheart?” he asked as his speed increased with new vigor at your words. “Missed what I do to this sweet little body of yours?”
You nodded, but that wasn’t good enough; he was hungry for more of your need of him to be vocalized. “Words, use them,” he demanded.
“Missed you so fucking much,” you whimpered as a twinge of pleasure shot up from your core through your body. “I am an absolute fucking mess without you.”
His lips shot to yours as you were starting to get loud again and though he hated to keep you quiet, it was a necessity in here. Half of him was of the mind to just let you be your usual vocal self, letting the whole fucking office building hear you taking him so well, and as much as his body burned for such a thing he knew in the long run it would be detrimental to your situation. The last thing he wanted was to ruin this by exposing the secret.
“Wish everyone in this fuckin’ office would just leave so I could enjoy your sweet little noises, luv,” he purred into your face as he released your mouth again. “Can’t get enough of your pretty music; my room’s been so quiet without it.”
Panting into his face with mouth open, chest heaving up and down with laborious breaths, Ghost put more into his thrusts so that even the desk itself began to rock with you from the force. The strength of his pumps made you feral, relinquishing any hold you had on civility as you would do anything to get more of the way his body fit into your cunt; it felt nice to be filled out by him again… you had grown far too accustomed with being constantly overflowing with his cock on the daily.
So wet, the sound of slapping skin against skin filled the silent space within the room, Ghost’s second favorite sound that you produced. It was like a round of applause for all his efforts, that he was putting in the right amount of work, and he pulled back to watch himself pump in and out of you. He hoped that someone would take him out permanently if he ever got tired of that sight, though he wasn’t worried about it as nothing would ever look better to him.
Taking the first two fingers of one of his hands he brought it to your clit, drawing circles with the pad of the digits over that overwhelmingly sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips bucked wildly at the extra bit of stimulation, slamming against his hand as your eyes rolled back with all that ecstasy flowing through your veins.
“Don’t stop, baby,” you begged, trying desperately to keep your volume at a reasonable level. “Gonna cum soon.”
Christ, those three words he had longed to hear for weeks now only fueled those strong thrusts and quick flicks of your clit. “That’s it, darlin’, fuckin’ come for me,” Ghost growled so desperately it made your brain numb. “I need to know your body still belongs to me.”
“Only you,” you returned without hesitation. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else baby. I can’t even get wet to anything but you.”
That beastly, towering hulk of a man shuddered at your proclamation, nearly spilling his seed inside you at such a beautiful phrase coming from your lips, but he would not allow anything to stop him from bringing about your release and so he focused everything he had left solely on you.
Keeping the pace of both his fingers and his cock at the same, precise speed Ghost watched as after a few more minutes your head finally flicked back and your thighs clamped down around his hips, a cry exploding out of you before you quickly locked your lips together to stifle the tail end of your ecstasy-filled exclamation.
Your cry is what did him in and he jerked violently as your pussy fluttered around him and he had to harshly pull out of you so that he could milk himself dry over top of your bare stomach. The sticky, hot fluid coated your skin with an amount more than you were expecting; clearly it had been a while.
Ghost looked back up at you, a contented, amused smile plastered to his lips. “Goddamn, luv,” was all he could say as he admired the beautiful flush in your cheeks and glazed look in your eyes, all a product from him.
It took him a second to find something to help clean you both up; a spare t shirt he had balled up in the bottom drawer of his desk would have to do. He took care of himself first before he moved to you, handing you the shirt while he went to gather your clothes. Waiting till you were finished cleaning off, he helped you to redress as your legs shook unsteadily.
The care he was taking with you now, it wrought to the surface just how silly you had been while you were away, thinking that he could have ever dropped you for someone else. You thought you had been slick, concealing your emotions from his discerning eye until you heard him speak.
“What’s that?” he questioned, causing you to look back up into his face.
“What’s what?” you posed curiously.
“That… look. On your face.”
You didn’t really want to say, you knew it was only an intrusive thought, but something about the way he stood gazing at you as if actively waiting for you to answer made you speak up. “It’s silly, but…” you paused; why couldn’t you just be honest with him? That man was just inside of you and yet this felt so much more intimate than that.
“Tell me,” he said, genuinely interested in the answer.
You swallowed hard. “Well, I was… worried you might have forgotten about me…moved on to someone else or something while I was gone. Wouldn’t have blamed you. I mean, needs are needs right?”
Ghost had already moved back in as you nervously laughed, both of those large hands cupping your face between them. Amber eyes stared back at you for a few seconds as if trying to read the meaning behind your words before he tilted his head to one side and leaned in to kiss you in such a way as he never done before: it was softer, but with just as much passion that you felt you might choke on it.
“I will neva forget about ya, luv,” he stated firmly as he broke the kiss, unable to hold back the string of truth that began spilling forth. “There’s no one ‘round here that could replace ya, absolutely fuckin’ no one. I don’t want some flaky tart that’s gonna get sick of my shit after a while or some dumb bimbo that talks a big game, but cannot keep up with me. I want you. Only you, understand?”
You nodded. “I only want you too, Simon.”
In all this time, you had never really used his name; perhaps it was too familiar for the type of relationship you both had together or maybe it was simple enough to stick to more formal monikers so that when not in a more intimate setting things wouldn’t get confusing. Whatever the reason was it didn’t matter anymore. Fuck did his name sound good being said in your voice; there was no going back from the shift that was happening here.
And maybe eventually you’d both be able to say it… out loud. For now, though, this was enough.
“So…” he said in hushed tones as he cleared his throat, knowing that you needed to head back soon and hating every bit of it, “you’re comin’ by later, yeah?”
You let out a small sigh and gave him a sweet, muted smile. “I believe you owe me more than just a quickie, so I guess so.”
Simon shook his head. “Fuckin’ hell,” he chuckled. “I guess off you fuckin’ go then before someone gets suspicious.”
And with another quick kiss you left him all alone in his quiet office to count down the literal seconds until he could be with you again. Hopefully, the rest of that day would go by fast, but the way his heart was beating, he didn’t hold out for a painless outcome.
Part 3:
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inkedells · 1 year
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hear me out: dbf!joel railing u on a bed full of plushies HEKSHDKS <3 maybe ur clutching or biting onto one and he's just cooing at u calling u a good girl HEHE
ok don't mind me popping my mf pussy w this drabble (ALSO YES THIS IS THE DBF!JOEL REQUEST THAT DROVE ME CRAZY YALL)
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summary/bg info: coming home from college for winter break and acting on the sexual tension that exists between you and your dad’s best friend, joel--while finding extra comfort in your childhood plushies.
words: ~700
mdni! | requests open but responses not guaranteed.
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“God, you’re a fuckin’ shy little thing, aren’t you?”
Your mouth only gaped open around a silent moan as your back arched against your childhood bed. You weren’t sure how it ended up in your hands, but you were clutching your favorite plushie, a brown bear with matted curly fur, as Joel continued his ministrations against your clit. The sight of the waistband of your sleep shorts stretched around his wrist was intoxicating, and so was the way his hand moved from underneath the thin cover of its fabric.
“Joel,” you whined, biting your lip as your hips grinded against his hand.
“Mm, that’s right. Only I know how to take care of this pretty pussy. Go ahead, sweetheart, hug your stuffies. I know you wanna.”
You hummed at that, nodding enthusiastically. Your breathing uneven and frantic from arousal, you lazily gathered the plushies surrounding you in your arms as Joel manhandled you until your ass was in the air and your cheek was pressed against the numerous stuffed toys cradled in your arms.
“Now listen here, baby girl. You’re gonna let me fuck this,” He paused to trail a finger along your seam through the fabric of your shorts, as if to make clear exactly what “this” was referring to, “And all you gotta do is keep making those pretty noises and cuddling your little toys, yeah?”
You whined high in your throat in confirmation as Joel slipped his hands underneath the hem of your shorts to palm your ass. 
“Not good enough,” He tsked, still massaging circles into your plump flesh, “Repeat it back to me.”
You swallowed, a blush creeping up on the apples of your cheeks as you clutch handfuls of stuffies. “You’re gonna… fuck… me—”
“—Fuck what?”
You groaned, turning to bury your face in the pile of stuffed toys beneath you. “My pussy,” You mumbled. You were positive your face was already beet red from embarrassment.
“Didn’t quite catch that,” He teased. You knew fully well he heard you, but indulging him in this manner was only making the heat between your legs grow hungrier, so you complied.
“You’re gonna fuck my pussy,” You said clearly, “And I’m—I’m gonna cuddle my stuffies while you use it.”
Satisfied with your response, Joel tugged your shorts down until you felt cool air hitting your pussy. Not for long, though, because soon the radiating heat of Joel’s cock was taking over as he swept his weeping tip through your folds.
“Gonna put it in now, ‘kay baby girl?” He voiced in that gravelly low rumble, and although he posed it as a question, you were smart enough to recognize it as a warning for the inevitable. Joel didn’t bother properly stretching you out, he wanted it tight so it would swallow him up just the way he wanted.
He slammed into you, ripping a coarse moan from your throat before the pain of the stretch became too much and you bit down on one of the stuffies in order to stave off a scream.
“Aww,” He mocked, “Is it hurting you, sweetheart?”
“So… big,” You managed to get out, eyes droopy and your brain completely mush as he pistoned in and out of your inviting heat, “Too… big…”
“Oh, fuck,” He groaned to himself, “You really are stretched. Fucking ruined you.” His breathing intensified as he lightly traced where you and him met with his fingers, clearly aroused by the contrast between your tight little cunt and the way his huge cock is forcibly stretching it open. His feathery touches combined with his abrupt, punishing thrusts had you pushing your ass back even further against his front, craving the abusive jerking of his hips.
Joel breathed an amused laugh at that. “Actually, it seems like it’s just the right amount of big if it’s got you pushing back for more. You like it painful, huh?”
“F-Fuck, Joel, yeah. Yeah, I love it painful. God, please, fill me up Joel. Your cum, I want it, please.”
Joel faked a wince at your words. “Looks like the innocent little girl’s suddenly got a mouth on her. That happen a lot? Does cock tend to get you dirty mouthed?”
With your cheek pressed into one of your stuffies, you peered up at him from the corner of your eye as you breathed the words, “Just yours.” It was only barely loud enough for him to hear it over the wet sounds of him fucking into your dripping pussy. In fact, you weren't even sure if he had heard you until a hint of a smile crossed his face and he told you in that warm, rumbly rasp, "Mm, I know. Because you're my good girl," with every proceeding thrust reeking of pride.
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see my masterlist here
A/N: may or may not do a permanent taglist? not sure yet, just depends on the demand for it soooo maybe let me know in my asks if you want to be on a *possible* taglist for my fics (i only rlly write joel).
anyway thank you all for the support for this blog and my fics!!! truly love you all, and def don't be afraid to reach out and say hello, i need more mutuals whether you're a writer or not!!
taglist for this fic: @777-wonders , @scarlettstarlettsarletts , @pedrosbabygirl , @deathsholywaterr , @devilmademewriteit
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