#I still don’t know how to tag stuff pls

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 2

in which fem!reader is feeling insecure about how inexperienced she is around spencer's friends and seeks his expertise to amend the problem

part one | part three

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, oral f receiving, (MUNCH!SPENCE RETURNS), fingering, (very) insecure reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, nipple stuff, kinda sorta implied age gap, god i'm probably forgetting things pls lmk if i missed something important a/n: i've been laboring at this bad boy every day for so long i had to immediately post once it was completed lol. there will be a part three ... maybe i already started it ..... anyway i love u guys and i hope this is a satisfactory part two!! PLS lmk if you liked it!! hearing from u makes my day :')

When Spencer dropped you off at Penelope’s apartment for your first girl’s night—the hostess had promised you, JJ, and Emily lots of gossip sans 'icky men'—you had been ecstatic. You wouldn’t stop rambling to him about how excited you were. 

When he picks you up two and a half hours later, he can hardly get a word out of you. 

It’s not his fault, of course—well, not really, anyway. It’s just that all the girls had wanted to talk about was sex. A topic on which you held very little expertise and had essentially nothing to contribute. Out of the four, you were the only non-FBI agent, the youngest, and undoubtedly the least experienced. It was like high school all over again, except you actually desperately wanted to impress Spencer’s friends. All in all, you weaseled your way out of sharing without giving away that you were still very much a virgin. Sure, you could have said ‘we did hand stuff two weeks ago’, but you had a feeling these women wouldn’t consider that very impressive. 

But you can’t easily relay that information to Spencer—even when he immediately picks up on your sullen mood. He asks you what’s wrong as you make your way down the echoey staircase, but you hold back, muttering something along the lines of we’ll talk about it later. 

Later doesn’t come on the sidewalk outside. It doesn’t come in the car, or at any point during the twenty minute drive, but you feel it rapidly approaching as you climb the stairs to Spencer’s apartment. He unlocks the door and holds it open for you, doesn’t speak as you kick off your shoes and wander aimlessly into the living room.

“Did you eat?” He finally asks, hanging his keys on a hook by the door and glancing over to where you linger in the center of the room like a ghost. 

“Not hungry.”

You both know that wasn’t the question, but he lets it go. 

“Alright... well, I was thinking—“

“Why haven’t we had sex?”

The question flies from your mouth before you can stop it. It tastes like metal and you wish you could take it back as you stand there, cheeks hot and awaiting a reply. It seems you’ve thoroughly astonished Spencer as he gapes at you like a fish out of water for several silent moments, eventually opting to shove his hands in his pockets and shake his head at the wall as he processes the question. 

“I… I don’t know. We just haven’t. Does that bother you?”

Suddenly your whole body feels intolerably warm. Your fingers twitch against your thighs. Of course it bothers you. 

“Do you just not want to? You aren’t attracted to me like that?”

God, you despise how fragile your voice sounds—how much you obviously care, how insecure you clearly are. Spencer picks up on it, despite your most fervent wishing that he wouldn’t, and approaches, stopping a few feet away. You stare at the span of oriental design on the floor between your feet. 

“That’s not at all what I said, angel. I wish you wouldn’t put words in my mouth.”

“Well, then… say something else,” you plead quietly, childishly, still unable to meet his eyes. Prove me wrong. 

He sighs, which does not bode well for you. You wonder if you accidentally triggered the early demise of your relationship and christ do you wish you could rewind. When he steps closer, when his hands find your arms, you’re not sure where to look. But the low, sweet tone of his voice entices you to finally meet his gaze, charmed like a snake as his eyes dart between yours. 

“You know that’s not how I feel.”

You shake your head earnestly, looking up at him with wide eyes as he slowly rubs your arms. 

“No. No, I don’t know that.”

Spencer frowns, glancing at your lips as he speaks. It’s impossible to not do the same when he’s standing so close. 

“But I’ve told you. I don’t understand how you couldn’t know how far from the truth that is.”

You think back to two weeks ago—the first and only time he’d ever done anything more than kiss you. A different kind of flush replaces the shameful one in your cheeks as you try to make your case and not get distracted by the memories of his hands all over you.

“So why won’t you prove it?”

It’d been intended to come out cool, but instead you sound a little desperate, a little out of breath as you realize you and Spencer somehow ended up so close to each other you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. 

“Is that what you need from me? More proof?”

He speaks so lowly, his fingers press into the flesh of your arms portentously, and you think maybe you’ve poked the bear one too many times. But you won’t back down now—not when you think you might actually get what you want. 

So you look up at him and nod, throat too dry to speak. His eyes are deceptively soft, but you don’t miss the big bad something lurking just beneath the surface of the placid hazel. 

“And how do you think I should prove it?”

“I told you what I want,” you whisper, speaking above your pounding heart. 

“Not tonight, honey. Choose something else.”

“Well—that’s not fair,” you stammer, “the whole point is for you to want to have sex with me.”

Spencer smiles a little, tucking hair behind your ear. “I do want that. I promise you I do. But there are other things I want us to do first.”

“Then I want to do that, too! I just—I don’t know what I’m doing, and you do, and I’m already out on a limb by asking for this much. I know this is what I want but I need you to take the lead here. I trust you, Spencer.” You top off the monologue with an imploring gaze—hoping it delivers even a fraction of the impact that his puppy-dog eyes always have on you. 

He seems to study every square inch of your face as you wait in suspense for him to say something. At long last, his lips part—to no avail for several more seconds as he regards you. 

When the words finally do come, they’re an immense relief of pressure. 

“You’re going to promise me that you’ll communicate honestly. That means telling me if we need to slow down or stop, or if you don’t like something—”

“I promise,” you say, perhaps over-eagerly, offering him your extended little finger. 

An incredulous smile narrows his eyes. 

“Is this a pinky-promise?”

“It is.” You wiggle the finger in emphasis, and he shakes his head, smiling wider as you link pinkies. 

“I left you with Garcia for far too long.”

You shush him, disentangling your hands to cup his jaw and press your lips to his. It’s sweet and smiley until it isn’t—until everything slows down like sticky molasses and his hand is ghosting over your cheek, your neck, the curve of your waist, finally substantiating itself on your hip—the other encouraging you to tilt your head back as he deepens the kiss and you feel yourself melting under the heat of his touch. 

The pressure of his body against yours builds until you’re forced to take a step back, and then another, and another. Without question you allow yourself to be herded toward the bedroom, walked slowly backward as he keeps kissing you and blindly trusting he’ll make sure you don’t run in to anything. The bedroom door clicks shut behind him, and it is in all practicality a pointless gesture—but you find it incredibly comforting nonetheless.  

It’s too warm beneath your sweater and his hands are cool as they slip under the hem, sliding against the curve of your hip. Spencer’s never seen you without a shirt, you realize, as he pulls away from the kiss by only centimeters.  

“Off?” he mutters, thumbing at the knit fabric. And while you’re far from confident, you’ve certainly been making progress in this area. You help him tug it over your head without a word, noting a distinct and surprising lack of terror within yourself as you watch for his reaction to you. Hands glide slowly up your waist and you find yourself enchanted by the slight furrow of his brow, the parting of his lips. He traces down the lacy edge of your bra, skimming sensitive skin as he goes. 

“Pretty,” he murmurs. “You’re… so pretty.”

It seems you’ve rendered him uncharacteristically prosaic. The reaction might be underwhelming if it were anyone else—but Spencer Reid is a man who probably knows every synonym for pretty in the English language. Looking at you, he can’t think of a single one. In an odd way, it’s the highest compliment he could pay you. Your cheeks heat and your stomach flips as he drags a knuckle up the center of the cup, and you can feel it through the layers of lace and fabric. He leans forward, ghosting his lips over yours and continuing to run his fingers over the sensitive spot. “Do you know how pretty you are?”

This is one argument you will not be winning—one he’ll keep bringing up at the most inopportune times until he gets his way. 

“Spencer…”

“Don’t Spencer me. I’m asking you a question.”

The words don’t seem nearly as harsh as they really are when they’re delivered velvet-soft, with his lips and hands on you—when he’s so deftly popping the button on your jeans and dragging the zipper down with all the quickness of a slight-of-hand. It makes it hard to focus, even harder to speak. 

“We have… we have differing views on this matter.”

Generous handfuls of your hips and ass are taken as he helps you tug down your jeans before you kick them off, now left just in your underwear. 

“I thought I argued my point fairly well last time you were here. You didn’t learn anything from that?”

“Mm… maybe you just need to remind me.”

“Oh, I think I have to,” he agrees through a smile you can only hear. Gentle fingers skim up your back and tap the clasp of your bra. “How about this? Can we take this off?”

Any confidence from earlier crumbles and you loose a nervous hum—which is not the enthusiastic yes you’re sure Spencer will be seeking all evening. He pulls away, features etched with the beginnings of concern and a searching gaze. Asking would be unnecessary; the words simply come tumbling out of you. 

“What if you don’t like how I look?”

Spencer doesn’t even blink.

“That’s not going to happen.”

How you wish you could have the same assuredness in yourself that he seems to. 

“But what if… what if you’ve been with other girls who are more, like—I don’t know, just—better? Prettier?”

“Honey, you’re—” a sigh, a pause as he searches for the words—his eyes dart up and down your form, assessing, and when he looks back up at you, they’ve cleared and softened. He pulls you a little closer, rubbing circles into your back with his thumb. “I’m not thinking about anyone else right now. I’m not interested in anyone else right now. I already think you’re perfect, and I’m going to keep thinking that regardless of how you look. When I look at you, I’m not looking for things to critique. Do you understand me?”

As far as sentiments go, it’s a nice one. But the pressure of being seen still feels like an impossible burden. You whine, leaning your head against Spencer’s chest. He accepts your weight and runs his hand over your back as you look up at him. 

“But what if I’m hideously deformed?”

His eyebrows raise. 

“You’re not.”

“But what if I am?”

“Okay. It seems like you don’t feel ready yet, which is completely fine, we just won’t—”

“No!” you protest. “I am ready. I am. But… you have to promise to be nice to me no matter what. Or break up with me if you don’t like what you see so I don't have to wonder.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he says, kissing you, “and the only thing I’m willing to promise is that I’ll think you’re perfect. Me being nice will come as a natural byproduct of that which is very different than being nice by artifice. Take it or leave it.”

A moment of hesitance—but it’s short-lived. This is more important than your insecurities. Spencer is more important. 

“Take it,” you mumble against his lips. His fingers trace up the smooth skin of your back, all the way to the fabric and metal hooks on your bra. 

“Thank you.”

You wouldn’t have thought Spencer’s genius would manifest in being really good at undoing the clasp of a bra, but you can truly say you’re impressed by the ease with which he does it. It falls to the floor, leaving you completely shirtless for the first time in front of him. 

“Well?” you murmur, arms crossed defensively underneath your chest, because you understand overtop would sort of ruin the whole thing. “What’s the verdict?”

“You,” Spencer manages after a moment—you literally watch him memorizing every square inch of your body— “are ridiculously beautiful.”

The way his voice gets quieter makes your stomach flip. It sounds genuine. Too genuine to be faked. 

“So… no breakup?”

It seems that the more vulnerable you feel, the less likely you are to take a compliment. Spencer, who is always seeking patterns, probably recognizes this one, and doesn’t push you so hard this time. After a silent moment, he sighs and cradles your face in his hands. 

“You’re gorgeous. I hate how incapable you are of seeing that. We’re going to talk about this.”

“Yeah, but not right now, right?” you murmur, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him. 

“Not right now,” he agrees. 

His lips are so soft and gentle against your own it feels like love, it feels like being talked down from the ledge of your own insanity. Somehow the way he strokes your hip feels more nurturing than sexual. It’s like he has sex and chaste affection on tap, able to turn them on and off at will. You’re happy to drown in either. Ideally, both.

After a while, his hands begin roaming farther, become bolder in their excursions over your flesh. Up, down, over your waist and ribs. Clearly Spencer had been trying to ease you into it, but you still can’t hide your sharp inhalation when his thumbs graze the sensitive skin of your breasts. He pulls his lips from yours, hands splayed over your sides. 

“Sit down.”

It’s much too gentle to be a command, but you frown. 

“Without you?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, lightly squeezing your waist. “Just sit. Utilize patience.”

You sit on the edge of the bed with an atypical reticence—you’re just a little too nervous for a snippy comeback. Spencer picks up on this, features softening sympathetically as he undoes his tie with nimble fingers. It lands somewhere on the bed and he leans over you, resting his weight on his fists and offering you a quick kiss. His voice is soft and designed to soothe as he speaks, mere inches away from your face, and so quiet it could only be heard at this range. 

“Are you nervous?” Cloth from the duvet pinches between your fingers. For a moment you don’t reply, dropping your head to watch when Spencer runs his hand over your thigh. “It’s okay if you’re feeling anxious, baby. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

You expel a frustrated huff. 

“I want to. Just because I’m nervous doesn’t mean I don’t want this. I can handle a little bit of anxiety.”

He hums, dropping to a crouch and inserting himself directly in your line of sight. 

“I know you can. But you don’t always have to push yourself so hard.”

“I’m fine pushing myself a little. I pinky-promised I would tell you if I wanted to stop, remember?”

“Oh, how could I forget a pinky-promise?” he smiles. 

How could you forget anything, you think, becoming flushed and silently insolent at his dulcet teasing. 

“Please, do something.” It’s a whisper, brushing his lips as you lean down until you’re nose to nose. His hands are on the back of your legs. 

“I’m working on it.”

“It doesn’t look like it.”

“You’re smart, angel. Tell me why I've got you naked on my bed and I’m kneeling in front of you. Where could I possibly be taking this?”

Oh, you have a pretty strong inkling—but you’re scared to voice it and be wrong. Instead of risking it you shake your head slowly, shyly. What you’re not expecting is for Spencer to duck his head down, slide his hands up the side of your thighs and press kisses to the delicate skin there. It feels good—better than you’d have thought. 

“You don’t know?” he asks, looking up at you through burnished gold-rimmed pupils. “No guesses?”

“No guesses,” you agree breathlessly, hotter than you were when you had your clothes on and all the energy in your body condensed into one point between your legs. Spencer hums like he’s considering your answer, smoothing his thumbs over the soft skin of your thighs so gently it feels like burning. 

“I don’t think you’re being entirely truthful. Lie back, sweetheart.”

You do as you’re told, scooting up on the mattress and falling back on your elbows. Spencer wastes no time in climbing over you, leaving you in much the same position as the last time you’d been in his bed. The sheets feel cool against your bare skin, but he is exceptionally warm and solid over you. 

“I’m being honest.” Lie. “I don’t know what you’re going to do.”

Lips find the most sensitive spot of your neck, dancing over it torturously. The front of his shirt brushes your chest. Your thighs clamp together. 

“I don't like being lied to. Just say it, baby. I know you know.”

“Spencer,” you whine, fists bunching the excess fabric around his waist. Warm breath condensates on the skin of your neck as he chuckles. 

“You don’t like being teased, huh?”

“Please, Spence,” you whisper. You notice the pattern of his breathing pause momentarily before it all comes rushing out at once—and you catalogue that particular plea for later usage. 

“I can’t say no when you ask me like that.”

You push your fingers into his soft hair. 

“I know.”

It was a lucky guess. 

He’s still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your hands in his hair, before darting up to kiss you. 

“I’m going to use my mouth this time,” he murmurs against your lips. Though you knew that was what he intended, your heart stumbles in its perpetual march. “Is that okay?”

“What if I…”

You trail off. This is a very intimate situation which you’re not quite sure you have delicate enough language for. Or maybe you’re just stalling. Either way, Spencer is eternally patient with you. 

“You need to stop worrying so much, pretty girl. I’d love to do this for you. But it’s your call.”

“Love is a pretty strong word.”

“Sometimes I think not strong enough.”

The way he’s looking down at you so tenderly, brushing hair from your face, makes you think maybe he’s not just talking about how much he would love to go down on you. Regardless, it fortifies your trust in him. Spencer is the kindest person you know. He’s so clearly an enthusiastic giver. Why not allow him to give you this? 

“Okay,” you breathe. “You can—yeah.”

As usual, you’re impressively awkward, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, you think he not-so-secretly delights in being the one to fluster instead of the other way around. Rarely has he mentioned his past romantic and sexual exploits, but gathering bits and pieces, you assume he was a fairly late bloomer. He probably knows what it’s like to be nervous and so deeply unsure of yourself. 

“Do you remember what you promised me?” he whispers, pressing butterfly-light kisses to your jaw. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips traverse down your neck, teeth skimming over the delicate skin while your breath catches. 

“Mhm.”

“You’re not gonna break that promise, are you?”

His voice, soft and muffled by your skin, is the most exhilarating and disorienting high. Your entire body buzzes with anticipation, satisfied only where his lips soothe and his body presses against yours. It takes a moment for you to remember to reply. 

“No.”

Reward comes in the form of his thumb brushing over the peak of your breast at the same time as he murmurs, “good girl.”

Your stomach flips at the endearment—you squeak and arch into him slightly. Spencer’s hand slides down your ribs as he chuckles, lips pressed just above your collarbone. 

“You’ve never called me that before,” you shudder as he continues kissing over your neck. 

“It’s not appropriate in most conversational contexts. But I can tell you’ve always been good.”

“Really? How?”

Spencer pauses, pushing himself up to regard you with searching eyes. The places he’d kissed feel cold without him. 

“I just can. You’re thinking too much, baby. I need your focus on me.”

“It is on you,” you huff. 

You watch his expression shift minutely. He loves games. Of course he’d love playing with you. That knowledge is why you’re only partially surprised when his thumb catches on your nipple again. 

“Is it? You’re only thinking about how it feels when I touch you here?”

A stammering nod. 

He toys with the sensitive flesh only a second more, amusement lighting his eyes, before dragging his hand down, down, down until it’s between your legs. Fingers trail over your clothed core, skimming the most sensitive part of you while your breath hitches.  

“Tell me how it feels when I touch you here.”

“Really good,” you admit, a heavy exhale escaping parted lips as he pins you with his gaze. 

“Really good, right. I can make it feel even better. Do you want me to make it feel better?”

Your thighs drop fully open and he adds just a bit more pressure until you’re pushing against his hand in search of more friction. 

“Yes please.”

“Then no more questions. I need you to trust me.”

Your answer is a breathy, dreamy sigh—you’d do anything, say anything for him. 

“Okay.”

Spencer kisses you, absorbing your noises of protest as his hand ceases between your legs and settles on your hip. But you’re trusting him. No whiny complaining. No unnecessary questions. 

Things go much quicker once you’re not interrupting him every twenty seconds to say something. His lips reattach to your neck, retracing their path (albeit quicker) until he’s below your collarbone. You watch in rapt fascination, twisted brows and parted lips as he peppers kisses down over your breast before dragging his tongue over your nipple. A jolted little moan spills out because you hadn’t been prepared to hold one in. Waves of hair fall over Spencer’s face, obscuring him from your vision, but you don’t think to push it away—your body is too busy processing the sensation to be much use on any other front. He darts his tongue over the peaked flesh, eliciting more little open-mouthed exhalations of pleasure from you. Earlier you hadn’t really thought it necessary for your bra to come off—you had no idea this could actually feel so good. A moment later he begins toying with the other nipple and you gasp as a bolt of heat goes straight to your core. 

You curse, further words catching in your throat as he suddenly switches, mouthing at your other breast and letting the cold air chill the other until you have goosebumps. It feels a little like hypnosis—you’re unable to move or speak as his tongue laves over you. Soon he’s replacing his mouth with a thumb again, sucking a mark onto your tit just above your nipple. You whimper a little at the pleasant brutality of it, hoping as he releases that it won’t soon fade. Spencer swipes over the stinging skin and presses a tender kiss to it, almost like an apology—but you sincerely doubt he’s actually sorry. 

Then he resumes his descent, leaving soft kisses down between your breasts, over your ribcage and stomach—when he reaches your hips, he doesn’t pull off your underwear all at once. Rather, he slides the fabric down centimeter by centimeter, kissing the revealed skin like it’s precious. 

This time you don’t need to be told to lift your hips. He helps you slip the final piece of clothing down and off of your legs, flinging it somewhere blindly before getting comfortable between your thighs once more. Your heart pounds with arousal and anxiety as his arms wrap around your thighs and his hands rub up and down the tops of them slowly. 

“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, loosening his hold on one leg to thumb at your folds. They glisten in the dim light of his bedroom as he gently reveals your clit. A soft whine escapes you when he nudges at the aching bud, slipping over it a few times and alleviating a bit of the pressure that’s been building. “Shh, baby. I know. I’m gonna take care of it. You’re being so good for me.”

Fuck. The way he talks to you makes your brain turn to mush—you’re utterly incapable of forming an intelligent thought. Spencer has rendered you a complete idiot, and you’re not upset about it in the slightest. 

He presses more gentle kisses to the creases between your thighs, just above your clit—everywhere except for where you need him most. Everything aches for him in the best way and at least you’re too turned on to be very insecure anymore. All you want is relief. But you’re trusting him. 

Thankfully, he delivers. 

The tip of his tongue grazes so lightly over your clit that if you weren’t this worked up you may not have felt it at all. In your current state, however, the stimulation echoes through every atom of your being. Every muscle is tense, frozen in place—you can’t even breathe for a second. He does it again, a little flatter, with a little more pressure, and you whimper. It’s a delicate thing, almost pained and definitely overwhelmed as he gently begins working his tongue against you. Your head cranes up to watch, your jaw drops. Approximations of curse words try to form, but come out only as, “f-fu—oh,” so whiny and soft it doesn’t even sound like you. He hums sympathetically, but you suspect it morphs into a chuckle as you continue to gasp and mewl. 

There are times where you can hold back sounds of pleasure. When you’re by yourself, it’s typically not a problem. Two weeks ago when Spencer was knuckle deep in you for the first time, it had certainly been a challenge, and you’d pretty much given up. But this—this is something else entirely. It feels like religion. It feels like compulsion. Even if you had the slightest modicum of control over yourself, which you currently don’t, you wouldn’t want to keep quiet. You want him to know what he’s doing to you. 

So you let every cry, every whine and whimper drag from your lungs, unbidden and unshaped. You’re new at this, after all—every broad lick feels so good that you have no fucking idea what do to with your hands or how to stop rolling your hips or how to censor your sounds. 

“Spencer,” you keen in one of the moments you remember to breathe. He moans against you, taking you into his mouth and sucking lightly. Your hips buck. “Oh, my—fuck!”

The hand that’s still around your thigh rubs soothing lines up and down. The one that’s spreading you open pulls your folds apart a little bit further, granting him more access to your clit. He flicks his tongue and you almost come then and there, vision going gray for a split second. 

“Wait, wait, Spence—“ you squeak, writhing and trying not to squeeze your thighs together for fear of hurting him. He pulls back and looks up at you, lips shining with your slick and eyes glazed with lust. Fuckfuckfuck he looks so fucking good. “Please, just… slow down, or I’m gonna… or it’s gonna be over.”

The corner of his mouth twitches as he rubs circles into your inner thigh. 

“It’s over when you say it’s over. You don’t have a refractory period. We don’t have to stop at one.”

“Oh—you don’t—you don’t have to do that,” you stammer. 

“I know I don’t have to. But if you want me to, I want to. You taste so good, angel girl.”

Well, shit. 

He looks absurdly sexy between your legs like this. You have no idea how you got so lucky, but you don’t plan on taking it for granted. Your fingers tangle in his hair. 

“I don’t know if I can do more than one,” you admit shyly, slightly embarrassed by how little you know about yourself and in general compared to Spencer. Hazel eyes sparkle in the warm light. 

“How about we start with one and see how it feels?”

Your voice is breathy when you respond, “okay,” already impatient for him to get back to it. Spencer seems just as eager, immediately kissing between your legs with a passion that makes your lips jealous. 

The flat of his tongue presses circles against you and your hips buck, already ramping up to that point you’d been at before calling a time-out. Slowly his fingers find their way to your entrance and he teases you with them, dipping in to the first knuckle before withdrawing again. If you could form words, you’d beg him to just do it already, but all you can manage is an affronted whine as you tilt your hips down, hoping he catches the meaning. 

Of course he does—pushing two fingers inside you at once. The intrusive stretch adds a sharp edge to the pleasure, makes it more interesting, as your brain short-circuits and you choke out a moan. It only takes a few slow pumps of his fingers in tandem with the pressure of his tongue until your hips are writhing and you’re and mewling desperately, more overwhelmed with pleasure than you’ve ever been. You push his hair back, able to see him for the first time, and fully appreciate the hollow of his cheeks, the way he looks up at you with perfect, glassy half-lidded eyes, the rhythm of his hand and tongue—he takes your clit between his lips once more, sucking lightly, and you’re done for. A pornographic sob escapes from deep within you as you come, but he doesn’t stop. The orgasm lasts longer than you knew one could—although, it’s only your second time, so you don’t exactly have a lot of data to go off of. Your entire body feels warm and floaty, and what he’s doing feels so good you want him even deeper—but you know he won’t give you that yet. Instead you focus on the slow burn of your orgasm, allowing him to carry on for a while until you begin slowly drifting back to earth and it becomes a bit too much. He recognizes the barely-there whine for what it is and pulls his fingers from you carefully, pressing one final kiss to your clit that makes your legs twitch and summons a weak little moan. 

Spencer’s lips find other avenues, over the delicate skin of your thighs and hips and stomach as he slowly drags himself up again. By the time you’re face to face again you’re still breathing hard. You sort of feel like prey underneath his weight, studied so scrupulously, known far more intimately by him than anyone has ever known you before. But there is so much light and kindness in the way he looks at you that you almost can’t make sense of it. 

Maybe it’s possible to be known and still wanted. The possibility spins like a coin on its edge in your mind. An idea you spent so much time trying to nurture and is only just now beginning to sprout. Maybe someone could see you at your most vulnerable, and still find you worthy of kindness. Appreciation. Affection. 

Spencer certainly could, it seems, as he ducks down to kiss you. You dodge it, turning your head demurely. He nudges his head against yours, speaking so, so softly, utterly cloying as he teases, “what? You’re not gonna kiss me now? Is that how it is?”

“No!” you balk, equally as quiet and especially bashful. “Not when you… no.”

“Let me kiss you,” he pleads, so earnestly you turn your head back to face him. His big eyes are hazy, reflecting all the warmth and dizziness you feel. “Let me kiss you. Please.”

You whine.

“I don’t wanna… taste… myself.”

Spencer doesn’t miss a beat. 

“Hm. We’ll need to work on that. Because one day, I’ll make you come just like that again, and then I’m going to fuck you, and you’re really going to want me to kiss you then, angel.”

Something flickers in your core. 

Suddenly you’re not so squeamish. You really want him to kiss you now. But it seems he’s going to have his fun, first. 

“Open.” Without even thinking about it, your lips part. He really ought to be careful with what he tells you to do—you’re all too compliant. Even as his fingers slip between your lips, you’re obediently hollowing your cheeks around them, watching him with big eyes as his own mouth falls slightly open. “Oh, baby,” he croons. “What are we gonna do with you?”

That flicker has returned to a full-fledged throbbing once you open your mouth again, slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen. 

“Can you make me come again right now?” you whisper, grasping lightly at his shirt. He grins like he loves the idea—and you let him have his way, accepting his lips on yours with no complaint. After a few moments, (the taste is surprisingly unobtrusive), he pulls away.

“I would love to.”

[chuuyasheaven]

bsd men as tits ass or thighs pls :3?? (specifically meursault boys)

“Tits, Ass or Thighs— What do they prefer?”

“—Everybody’s got certain preferences, don’t they? So, what are theirs?”

Tags: Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol, Chuuya Nakahara, Sigma / afab! Reader, Nipple play?, ooc! Sigma, praising kink, degrading kink, overstimulation, pet names?, hdc format ig, thigh riding?, hickeys, mentioned lingerie?, spanking, mild brat taming, atp everyone may be ooc, face sitting, oral sex (afab! and m! recieving), titty job, messes of their milk, might contain grammar errors, this is a lot holy shit, etc.

Notes: Maybe u just meant Dazai, Fyodor and Chuuya but I added Nikolai and Sigma for funsies— hope this is okay tho!! And I never wrote for Sigma before so sorry if he’s so ooc. . Maybe he’s gonna be added to my list lol.

Dazai Osamu ;

💙 Thighs 💙

💙 I just know that he loves your thighs!! In my opinion, DAZAI lives for seeing you in thigh highs, especially if you have thick thighs. What do you mean you don’t wanna crush him with them??? What else are they made for then— oh, right, hickeys. It’s obvious that he’ll leave some marks here and there for fun, but another thing he lives about them is face sitting. This is literally the best way to die?!!? But also he lives to grab your thighs when he eats you out!!!

💙 Scenario;

He’s been at it for too long, you don’t even remember how many times you came already. . “Dazai, p–please. . S–sensitive!”, you tried to beg, but Dazai was way into this— Once you sit on this mans face, he won’t let go until your too sensitive, Dazai also always leave hickeys while he’s at it. Chanting how he would love to die this way, being crushed by your massive thighs. “—Why should I? You’re still talking properly, I won’t stop until you’re only able to moan my name. Now be a good girl, alright, ‘donna?”

Fyodor Dostoevsky ;

💙 Thighs 💙

💙 In all honesty, this man is a mystery for me– but if I would have to chose, thighs. FYODOR is kinda religious and stuff, meaning he’s definitely gonna be kinda traditional. (i do not know wtf I’m talking abt.) Fyodor doesn’t know what it is, but something about you in white lingerie and white thigh highs sets him off completely. Looking all innocent but being the complete opposite? Yes, absolute approval from him. But being the busy man he is, he’ll let you sit on his lap while he caresses your thighs!! :3

💙 Scenario ;

Seriously, how desperate are you? Walking up to Fyodor in white lingerie and white thigh highs while he’s obviously working? He finds it quite amusing how you think he’ll stop immediately to fuck you, no he won’t, yet. Fyodor just commands you to sit on his lap, now you’re getting off on his own thighs. But you’re still wearing panties, though he doesn’t care, you wanted this, didn’t you? As you keep grinding against it, he slapped your pussy through the fabric multiple times before. The small whines and whimpers are cute, but won’t change his mind to take you right now. “—I don’t really know what you expected me to do. . Well, actually, i did. It’s quite adorable how you think just because you’re desperate I’ll feed into your desires. Anyway, you seem to be getting off pretty easily, slut.”

Nikolai Gogol ;

💙 Tits 💙

Come on, this is so NIKOLAI, seriously. He's so silly, he would literally call them his personal stressballs. (Do not even try to deny it, it's canon.) Nonetheless, he likes to cum on them, Nikolai will make a mess out of them every time whenever you're giving him head. Another thing their useful for, in his opinion, is tit fucking!! It's a nice feeling for him when his dick's inside of your tits. Not to forget, your nipples are pretty fun to play with, but there's one last thing about them. .

💙 Scenario ;

There are many reasons why Nikolai adores you riding him! He loves how he barely has to do anything, hearing the adorable sounds leaving your mouth while you get off on his cock and most importantly, the way your tits bounce with you. All he's doing is laying back and enjoying the view of your tits almost bouncing out of your bra, he would love if they were to actually jump out. “—Hm, would you look at that! Your tits are seconds away to spill out of your bra, dove. I wouldn't mind if they did, maybe you just need to ride my dick faster. . Just like the needy whore you are.”

Sigma ;

💙 Tits 💙

I’m not really sure if it’s accurate, but running an casino ain’t easy. So what’s better than having you and your comfort. .—able tits? SIGMA would never admit it, but he loves them, dearly at that. If he ever needs an break, his head would probably rest on them. On the spicy side, he loves a good tit job. You mentioned this once and Sigma wasn’t against it, sure he was blushing over your suggestion but after he tried it, he loved it!!!

💙 Scenario ;

It felt good, really, Sigma loved your suggestion! He never thought of something like this, he never thought about recieving a tit job, but it felt heavenly. Just the way your tits were rubbing against his cock so good, it felt unreal. . The most beautiful whimpers left his lips, with his flushed expression on his face too, you assumed Sigma was enjoying himself, very. Soon he reached his climax, letting his cum leak on your tits. “—F–fuck. . You did s–so good, darling. Now, lay back and let me return the favor, yeah?”

Chuuya Nakahara ;

💙 Ass 💙

Ah, yes. CHUUYA is, in my opinion, an ass man. I saw a few people say that, and I agree. Like, he’s literally proud of that. He would slap your ass unexpected, respectfully though. He wouldn’t care if you’re carrying a bakery or not, he still slapping it!! Chuuya loves to spend money on matching bras and panties for you, but on your in general. Sometimes it gets to your head or something and you start to act out, which our ginger won’t let slide.

💙 Scenario ;

Lately, you’ve gotten on Chuuya’s nerves. Yeah, he loves to spend money on you and you, but he won’t stand you being bratty. As to right now, he’s ‘punishing’ you for it. The reference for ‘punishing’ is quite just fucking you until it’s stuck in your pretty little brain not to act out again. This time though, Chuuya added something to your punishment. . “Ch–chuuya. . ‘m sorry, I–i didn’t mean to—”, you tried to apologize, only to be silenced by another spank. “—Really? Too bad, you’re gonna take this if you want me to fuck you, baby. Just keep on taking f’me and I’ll fuck you soon enough, m‘kay?”

OH EM GEE YOU GUYS IT TOOK ME THREE DAYS TO FINISH

[time-woods]

I’m so sorry that some people think it’s acceptable to be so sexual about art when they don’t even personally know the person who made it :-[ It’s such a strange thing that no one seems to recognise is really really unusual and uncomfortable. Your art is incredibly good I hope the tags calm down soon!

im still just sittinghere like.im still 17 . . and with some of the comments i get i know they probably didnt check my bio but still i dont know how on earth to respond to that besides ' IM A MINOR AND HEAVILY SEXREPULSED PLS DONT COMMENT STUFF LIKE THAT' i start to feel like a scratched record at times

[explorevenus]

something permanent, pt. 2 ♡ yandere!leon kennedy x reader

nsfw (18+) - minors pls pls pls dni!!! i’m so for serious rn

find pt. 1 here! ♡

find pt. 3 here! ♡

reminder that this is a dark fic!! if any of the following bothers you, do not read: yandere!leon kennedy, kidnapping, manipulation, corruption/training, stockholm syndrome, forced daddy kink, forced breeding

word count - 3.9k

description - darling wakes up in the infirmary, all patched up after the events of pt. 1 -- upon her return home, leon and darling get to know and trust each other better... sort of. ((no smut in this one i’m sorry but i’m way too invested in this now so i’m Lore Building))

tags/warnings - yandere!leon kennedy, fem/afab!reader, kidnapping, medical stuff (no blood/gore this time tho), implied onset stockholm syndrome, forced daddy kink, pet names (princess, doll, sweetheart, etc.), dollification if u squint, leon is much sweeter in this one (he’s still deranged tho), a healthy dose of angst, darling misses her friends and family

a/n - AHHHHH i’m so glad y’all are liking this and want more of it. i was so honestly convinced i was going to get shunned for this. anyway enjoy some bonding time between leon and darling. it’s a little refreshing but it also doesn’t mean the deranged shit is over lololol. p.s. my ask box is aggressively open for business on ideas for this series. i love riffing w/ y’all about yandere leon, it’s my life blood, so don’t be shy ♡

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

taglist - @dollrxst​ @ifeelikeflying @nexyswrites​ @idekman111​

fic below the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy !! ♡

- venus ♡

When you awoke again, you certainly felt much better. Refreshed, almost, if it weren't for the way the lights stung your eyes. The agonizing pain between your legs that was the last thing you remembered before you lost consciousness had subsided into a dull ache.

You reached up to rub the sleep from your eyes and properly observe your surroundings, quick to take notice of the IV line embedded in the back of your right hand. You blinked, looking around the room-- it was white and sterile, it certainly looked like a hospital but remembering the phone call Leon had in the car, you knew it wasn't exactly that. Even so, you were in a papery gown, laid on papery sheets, and an analog clock menacingly ticked away high up on the wall.

You were quick to sit up at the sound of distant footsteps growing nearer to the door-- the time you'd spent in Leon's "care" had kept you especially aware of the sound-- and as your dreary, horrified eyes locked on to the door you heard the beeps of your heartbeat monitor gain speed.

The heavy door swung open to reveal a doctor you weren't familiar with, and Leon was closely behind him. The doctor took in the sight of you awake with a content smile and piped up, "Ahh, there you are! Feeling better?"

Your mouth was dry. You nodded stiffly, shrinking toward the wall as if you could get any further away from them.

Leon shook his head and chided, "Words, princess. Be polite."

You swallowed nothing. "Y-Yes, doctor, I'm feeling better. Thank you."

"I'm glad to hear it," The doctor replied, checking over your vitals on the monitor to the left of your bed, absently marking down his findings on paper. "How about mentally?"

You blinked. "W-What?"

"Mentally," He repeated. "Leon told me what brought you here. Do you still feel you might be a danger to yourself?"

Mouth agape, eyes wide, you glanced over at Leon who gave you a cold look, no doubt in an attempt to remind you what you'd agreed upon before he brought you here.

You looked back to the doctor. "I'm sorry, what exactly did Leon tell you?"

"Do you not remember?" The doctor asked. "You lost quite a lot of blood, so memory loss is not uncommon in these scenarios. Why don't I step out for a few and let you chat while I check over your charts?"

Your eyes widened even further in a look that begged him not to leave you alone with Leon, but it didn't matter. Almost immediately, Leon told the doctor that sounded like a good idea and walked him to the door.

As soon as it swung shut, you piped up, "Leon, what did you say?"

He shrugged dismissively. "I said you had a breakdown while I was at work and I came home to you covered in blood."

It sounded... absurd. Even more absurd upon realizing that a real life medical doctor accepted that excuse. You scoffed. "Are you serious? You told the doctor I threw a fit for no reason and ripped my IUD out and he believed you?"

"I don't see why he wouldn't," He said smugly as he sat at the edge of the bed, taking hold of your hand. "There's a lot you don't know about me, doll. What I say definitely goes around here."

"Oh," You replied in a near whisper, swallowing dryly. "That's... nice."

The room went quiet and suddenly the air felt heavy. If you didn't feel fucked before you definitely felt fucked now. You reached weakly for the water bottle on the table beside you, but as soon as he noticed what you were reaching for he was quick to spring up from where he sat to grab it for you.

"I've got it, baby," He hummed, smoothing your hair out of your face as he perched the straw up to your mouth. "Don't overexert yourself, now."

As if I even could fucking overexert myself with the monumental task of grabbing a water bottle, you thought, casting your gaze to the floor as you sipped idly through the straw. Even facing away from him you could feel his cobalt eyes boring into you, burning holes in your skin. You nearly shivered, but suppressed it.

Soon after, the door opened and the doctor returned. "All caught up, you two?" He asked jovially.

"Uh, y-yes, thank you," You forced a smile.

"Good," He hummed. "You should be alright to head home now. I've prescribed some antibiotics for you to take as a precaution. We don't want you getting infected-- it could lead to infertility."

Is that so? You thought, clenching your jaw. "Infertility?" You asked.

"Yes, unfortunately. Leon told me you two are trying, so I figured we should play things on the safe side," He said.

You felt Leon's grip on your hand tighten. The word alone clearly stressed him out. 

"That being said," The doctor continued, "I would advise you to avoid sex for at least six weeks. There was some trauma to the cervix that's going to need time to heal, and again, we don't want to risk infection."

Leon's grip was nearly crushing the bones in your hand and even so, you couldn't help but crack a little smile. "You're absolutely right. We wouldn't want to risk anything, right, Leon?"

"Right," He agreed stiffly.

Those six weeks couldn't have possibly passed slower for Leon. He couldn't stop hating himself for what he'd done to you, putting you in so much pain, putting you at such high risk. He couldn't help but beat himself up over it.

He chose to bide his time by doting on his darling relentlessly, even more than usual. He took that entire first week off of work just so he could keep an eye on you at all hours of the day. Any little wince was met quickly with ibuprofen and a hot water bottle. He set an alarm on his phone to make sure you took your antibiotics at the same time every night. He was even more adamant about ensuring you were eating and sleeping enough. When he caught you getting restless, he would take you on little drives around the neighborhood.

The inability to have sex for six weeks left a lot of time for talking, something he hadn't realized he so sorely needed until he didn't have a choice. He did want to get to know you on your terms, to understand the intricacies of your life and the way your brain worked. Truthfully, he wanted to know everything there was to know about you.

That way, he could better understand what you really needed.

"Le-" You caught yourself, clearing your throat before starting again. "D-Daddy, can I ask you something?"

The blonde smiled softly, cupping your chin as you laid in bed together. He was spooning you tightly and some random crime show was playing softly from the TV, but you weren't convinced either of you were really paying attention to it. You could feel his eyes glued to you the entire time.

"Of course, princess. What's on your mind, hm?"

You swallowed nervously, looking down at the floor. "Am I... am I missing?"

"What do you mean?" He tilted his head.

"Like... my family, my friends. Are they looking for me?" You asked.

He shrugged. "You don't have to worry about that, honey. I have the resources to make that sort of thing go away."

Tears rimmed your eyes, but you didn't show it. You took a deep, controlled breath before nodding, "Oh... okay."

A few beats of silence passed, and you nearly gave it up, but you couldn't help but pry further.

"Y-You didn't really answer the question, though," You said quietly. "Are they looking for me?"

"What does it matter?" He tightened his arm around your waist, nibbling at your ear, "You're safe with me. I intend to give you everything you'll ever need. That's no one else's business but ours."

You didn't think he realized he'd given you the answer without saying it explicitly. Your chest wound up into a knot, your stomach dropping. You couldn't stop thinking about how awful your loved ones must feel, begging for answers to your disappearance only to be met with doors slammed in their faces because Leon somehow managed to keep everything and everyone under his thumb.

Including you.

An image flooded your brain of your little apartment collecting dust as your closest friends and family entered with their keys to find everything exactly as you'd left it. You could see them all wandering your space, trying not to touch anything, scouring every inch for clues and perhaps realizing how much of your things were missing. Would they think you left on your own accord? Would they give up when they realized the authorities wouldn't help them?

Had they given up already?

The dam broke and you couldn't suppress your feelings any longer. You began to weep, tears spilling out over your cheeks as you involuntarily curled back into Leon's warm chest for some semblance of comfort. In your defense, he was pretty good at providing it, and at times like this it was just easier to give in.

He shushed you softly, petting your hair away from your face, pressing soft kisses to your temple. "I've got you, sweetheart. You're okay. Just let it out."

Something about him telling you to let it out made you really let it out. Your eyes screwed shut and you began to bawl, gripping his strong forearms to pull him closer as if he could possibly do so-- you were practically tangled around each other. You shifted your hips and turned over in his arms, burying yourself in his broad, bare chest, wetting his smooth skin with your anguish. He didn't care, he just held you tight and rubbed your back, whispering sweet praises and comforting affirmations into the crown of your hair.

"You're okay, princess. You're alright," He spoke lowly, lips brushing softly over the top of your head. He smelled so good, like cedarwood body wash, like fresh aftershave, like protection. "Poor baby. I know it hurts, but you've been such a good girl for me. Such a brave, sweet girl."

You went truly boneless, melting into his warmth, gripping him close like he'd just disappear if you let go. The irony was not lost on you-- you knew it was wrong to bask in his affection, to cry for comfort from the man who'd caused all your problems to begin with, but what choice did you have? You spent so much of your days alone now that you were starting to get sick of yourself.

It felt like you were going crazy. Every morning he would leave for work and you would feel some kind of relief for maybe an hour or two before you found yourself missing him. Longing for someone to talk to, someone to hold you and kiss you and just be in your presence. Longing for the way he'd play with your hair and rub your back, dote on your every need, even the way he'd mark up your body with his teeth. 6:00 p.m. would roll around and you'd find yourself restlessly pacing the room, glancing over at the door, pressing your ear up against it to listen, gazing out the locked window to search for his car. 

When he'd walk in you'd try really hard to pretend like you weren't so eagerly waiting for him, but you think he was starting to catch on to your lowered guard. It almost seemed like in return, his guard was lowering as well. He still remained vigilant about keeping the doors and windows locked when he wasn't home, but every now and then he would take you out into the living room, let you hang out in the kitchen while he cooked for you, let you sit by the sliding glass door to sunbathe and gaze into the backyard.

The strangest part of it all was you didn't really feel inclined to take advantage of his leniency. He kept his eyes on you at all times, so it's not like you had much of a chance to misbehave even if you wanted to, but knowing deep down that Leon had his resources and his ways of being able to track you down if you were to disappear made the prospect of escape that much less enticing.

In fact, making a break for it was starting to feel more dangerous and scary than just staying put.

Leon's voice, a low whisper, broke you out of your hazy confliction. "What do you need, puppy? What can I do to make you feel better, huh?"

"J-Jus' want daddy," You sniffled, haze settled over your brain, body aching and trembling with upset.

"You've got me. I'm right here, pup," He soothed, swiping your tears away from your reddened cheeks. "Poor baby... I'm right here."

It wasn't long before his hushed reassurances and gentle touch, coupled with the pure exhaustion of crying, lulled you into a deeper sleep than you had had since day one.

When you woke up the next morning you felt... weird, to say the least. After having cried it out your brain was much clearer now, and with that came the sickening realization of what you'd let happen last night. After all, from the second your tired eyes pried open, the first thing you noticed was Leon's arms still wrapped tightly around you. Suddenly you felt nauseous, disgusted with yourself.

You laid still as stone in his hold, trying your hardest not to move in fear of waking him. Perhaps last night you couldn't stand the thought of being alone with your thoughts but now you felt that was all you needed. You casted your eyes to the alarm clock next to the bed-- it was 5:45 a.m. 15 minutes until Leon's alarm would go off and he would have to get up, get ready and leave for work. Then you would truly be alone.

You couldn't pry your eyes away from the glowing red numbers, seconds stretching into what felt like hours as you waited impatiently for the alarm to sound. Your eyes dried and went sore before you remembered you needed to blink.

The soft peachy sunlight peeking in through the window would have been quite pleasant in any other circumstance. These days, it just came as a sore reminder of the time you'd lost locked in a psychopath's bedroom 24 hours a day. You thought of how nice it felt every now and then when he would let you accompany him to other areas of the house, and how much nicer it would be if you could just leave whenever you wanted. How nice it would feel to have that peachy sunrise beam directly on your skin. How nice it would feel to have grass between your toes, to drive a car again, to go to a restaurant.

With that reality just on the other side of the glass, it was as if the universe was laughing in your face. Dangling what you needed right in front of you and telling you that you couldn't have it. You might have started crying again if you hadn't drained yourself dry last night.

It suddenly dawned on you that if you had any sort of chance of escape, now would be the time. The likelihood of you being pregnant was incredibly slim, given recent events, and he trusted you more than ever by now. You weren't sure how you were going to pull it off, but you didn't have any choice but to try.

Your brain melded into a mush of ideas-- you could try the window, but the bedroom was on the second floor and it wouldn't be much use trying to jump out if you were just going to break your legs on the way down and have him find you that way upon his return home. You had tried jamming the lock on the door before and he'd caught you every time. There was no way he wouldn't catch you trying it now.

Your burning eyes trailed away from the alarm clock-- 5:53 a.m.-- and began to wander the room. Although there wasn't an inch of it you hadn't explored by now, you couldn't help but think there had to be something you could use to take the doorknob off. Anything even remotely resembling a screwdriver would be worth a try. Of course Leon wasn't stupid enough to leave tools lying around for you to play with, but perhaps you could find a viable work-around in something otherwise mundane. A nail file, a coin, tweezers, anything.

You were also painfully aware of how easy it might be for him to find you once you'd escaped, if you could escape. If you had any hope of getting the fuck out of town and hiding out, you would have to get to your apartment first, where your wallet was probably still collecting dust on your bedside table. If you could scrape up enough cash to catch a train or a Greyhound bus, you could be states away before he even got off work. Despite the nagging voice in the back of your head screaming this is a bad idea, all you could think about was how much it would be worth the risk if you managed to pull it off.

If I could manage to get the doorknob off, maybe I can get through the front door, too, and if not, maybe I could smash the sliding glass wi--

The alarm clock began screeching, signaling the start of Leon's day and reminding me you that you were supposed to be pretending to sleep. You screwed your eyes shut and shuffled around in his arms at the noise like you usually would, not wanting to arouse any suspicion that you weren't really sleeping.

Apparently, that wasn't sufficient.

"How long have you been awake, sweetheart?"

The first words out of his mouth. Fuck.

You shrugged innocently. "I don't know. Fifteen minutes or so."

He reached over you to shut off the alarm, tucking your hair behind your ear so he could cup your cheek and look into your eyes. "Hmm. Did you sleep alright?"

"Yeah, I slept pretty well, actually," You replied, looking right back into his own cobalt eyes as if to sell what you were saying even further. "I must be sleeping on your schedule now."

"Must be," He hummed, leaning in to lazily kiss your forehead.

It was a normal response, and maybe you were just being paranoid, but something about the tone in his voice made you feel like he didn't really believe you. You tried as hard as you could to force yourself not to react. You couldn't risk making him suspicious of you when you wholly planned on executing your escape today.

The two of you laid in silence for a few minutes, not atypical for him to want to snuggle for a while in the mornings, but eventually he really had to get out of bed and take a shower. Leon gave you a quick peck on the lips before disentangling himself from you, slinking out from beneath the covers and heading to the bathroom to wash up for the day.

You only really felt safe again once you heard the water running, letting out a deep, labored breath you hadn't realized was stuck deep inside your lungs.

Still, you had a job to do for now, and that job was acting normal.

You rose from the bed, turning on the lights and perusing the closet for something to wear. For the first few weeks you were there, Leon would return home for the day with more and more of your belongings, including clothes, and you had deduced it was because he was gradually moving your entire life into his bedroom. That being said, it was sort of nice to at least be surrounded by your own things and able to wear your own clothes.

Settling on a soft sweater and leggings, you gathered your outfit from where the items were neatly folded and began dressing yourself. On Leon's days off he preferred to pick your clothes out for you-- and dress you himself-- but on days like today when he had to get to work and wasted too much time cradling you in bed, he just didn't have the time, which was sort of a relief.

Once you were dressed you sat at the edge of the bed, turning on the TV to click through random channels. It was nice to have a glimpse into the outside world every now and again. You passed by a blur of morning cartoons, tabloid talk shows and sports recaps in search of a cooking show or a documentary or something, but as you flipped through the channels you saw a familiar face and nearly passed out. You quickly switched back to the news channel.

"--friends and family allege authorities have been no help in the search for the missing girl, leaving them to take matters into their own hands. Concerned loved ones have searched the vacant apartment for clues, attempted to track her devices and have left missing posters all over the city, each and every one, they say, has vanished within hours..."

Your heart sank deeply into your stomach. Tears welled up in your eyes. The fire to escape roared even louder within you. You had to put your hand over your mouth to quiet yourself as you began to cry.

The familiar face on the screen was you.

The image quickly switched over from your face to footage of your distraught friends and family speaking through tears.

"We don't know what's going on, if this is a cover-up or just negligent policing. All we want is answers to what happened to her. She was never the type to up and leave without saying a word. If she's out there somewhere hearing this, we want her to know that all we want is for her to come home. We hope she's safe, wherever she is, and on the off-chance she really did leave on her own, we just want to know why--"

The sound of the shower water shutting off jolted you back into focus. You hurriedly changed the channel back to the cartoons and wiped the tears off your face with lightning speed. Try as you might to relax, you knew you were still stiff, but you needed to compose yourself.

The bathroom door opened, warm steam rolling out in his wake as Leon re-entered the room in nothing but a towel hung low on his waist, water droplets peppering his alabaster skin.

"Cartoons this morning, huh?" He asked, smooching the crown of your head.

You shrugged apathetically. "Couldn't find anything better to watch, I guess."

He got dressed and gathered his things, keys jangling in his large hand as he gave you another kiss on the lips and took ahold of your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"Have a good day, princess," He said. "Behave yourself for me, okay?"

There was definitely something in his tone that indicated he knew something you didn't. You nodded hesitantly.

"O-Okay, daddy, I will."

"Good girl," He said flatly, squeezing your jaw just a little bit, almost like a show of power, before walking out the door with a distinct click of the lock behind him.

Maybe you wouldn't be escaping today after all.

find part 3 here! ♡

[blossiewossie]

— Lawless Affair

pairing : gojo x reader x geto genre : business men au (lawyers), smut rating : mature word count : 2k+

shoutout to @junqkook for helping me with learning the ways of tumblr and for helping me prep to post; i still have lots to learn but you made it less intimidating teehee ♡

— note : hihi this is my first time using tumblr and also posting on tumblr, pls be kind. also, i put down 'smut' but the spicy stuff could come in a later part (when i eventually write it, lol) enjoy!

“Ah, ____, I see you’re all set up at your desk!,” you heard someone exclaim behind you.

Spinning around in your chair, you look up to see one of your new colleagues smiling cheerfully at you while holding a woven basket full of supplies. Her silky black hair was tied up in a half-up do with a cute pink bow on it, completely encapsulating her bubbly personality.

“I’m sorry to bug you, but I brought you these!,” she exclaimed brightly, plopping the basket down. She reached in and started pulling out different items for you to use to decorate your cubicle, including a bunch more bows of various sizes.

“Thank you, uh…,” you trailed off sheepishly, glancing at the spot where you were told to wear your name tag on her shirt before realizing she didn’t have hers on.

“Oh, where are my manners?!,” she cried out loud. “I’m Utahime Iori, but you can just call me Iori! I figured since it’s your first day here with us, I’d give you a hand with decorating your spot!”

“Cut it out, would you? You’ll scare her away!,” demanded another colleague. Turning your head towards the new voice, you spot a woman with silver hair sashaying towards you, her heels clicking against the floor. She came to a stop next to Iori and nudged her before turning to you with an apologetic smile, while Iori coughed awkwardly.

“Sorry about her, she tends to overwhelm our new hires with her presence. I promise she means well,” says the new woman. “I’m Mei Mei,” she says.

“Hi, I’m ____,” you say back, laughing as Iori sticks her tongue out at the unimpressed colleague.

You tell them you appreciate how welcoming they are, as you were feeling quite nervous about today. After all, not everyone gets a chance to work at a prestigious law firm under one of the greatest lawyers of the country.

The two women quickly assure you that you’re in good hands and the topic is quickly changed as you all started getting to know each other. Many moments, and laughs, later, you are all exchanging numbers so that you could contact each other outside of work. As the two women say their goodbyes and you turn to face your desk, Mei Mei stops in her tracks and returns to your desk once more.

“Just a final thought. I want to give you a warning,” her voice drops to a whisper, while she glances around carefully.

Intrigued, you lean in, eager to hear what she has to say.

“Whatever you do, do not let him in your pants.”

Sputtering wildly, you look back at Mei Mei with a shocked expression while she has a curious look on her face.

“I’m not letting anyone in my pants, wha-,” you start to stutter out when Mei Mei’s palm splats across your lips, hushing you immediately.

Mei Mei glances around once more before removing her hand.

“The big boss has a friend that likes to linger in here when he has nothing else to do at his own firm,” she says softly. “We cannot speak ill about him freely, but as your friend now, I must warn you. Do not fall for his games. He has slept with every new hire we have had. You don’t want to be tangled up in his mess.”

Straightening up, she looks around once more before nodding at you. Turning on her heel and flipping her silvery locks, she walks away while yelling out a loud ‘Nice talking to you, ____!’ before entering the hallway and disappearing.

Shaking away your thoughts, you straighten back towards your desk and smile amusedly at the basket left behind by your new friends. Digging through, you find a couple of bows of your favorite color and start piling them up on the side, reminding yourself to put them up before you leave for the day.

As the day drags on, you commit to your work meticulously, organizing and storing files away in their proper locations. You hear your coworkers occasionally walking around, but all is silent for the most part.

The next thing you know, BANG!

The door leading into the office area slams open and you see someone’s leg outstretched, as if they had kicked the door.

Startled, you scoot back and stand to lean over your cubicle to see what the commotion’s about as some of your coworkers do the same around you. Some of them have a wide grin on their faces while others roll their eyes and continue on their work as if nothing has happened. You notice most of the women around you are the ones keeping an eye on the door. Must be the hot-shot, you think to yourself.

The outstretched leg at the door set itself down and the man behind it walked in, exuding all the confidence in the world with his stride. You trail your eyes from his covered legs up, appreciating how well his slacks accentuated his long limbs. They continue to make their way up his torso to his chest, where he’s sporting a snug, white button-up with the top buttons lose. His matching suit jacket wrapped seductively around his arms, showing off their physique as he swung them nonchalantly by his side. Finally you raise your eyes up to his face and your breath hitches in your throat.

His eyes — they’re like the color of ice, but there’s more to it. They’re almost paradoxical, the way they sparkle with light but also glint with a hint of darkness. Paired with such breathtaking eyes was his unique hair color, as white as snow. The man was a walking epitome of winter, beautiful yet dangerous. And his smirk, that tied it all together.

Before you was an angel with devilish intentions.

You swore you could see the women in the room swoon instantaneously as the mysterious man waltzed his way around, stopping to chat with different people. Clearing your throat, you duck back down into your seat and try your best to continue where you left off in your work, suddenly feeling a rush of heat between your legs.

Jeez louise, you think to yourself.

Never in your life has a man made your body react like that from just looking at him. Sure, you’ve read some spicy stories here and there that made you want to touch yourself, but just his mere presence is making you feel more than all those stories combined.

You bite your lip as you continue typing, trying to ignore the conversations around you. Soon after you started to finally concentrate and your shoulders relax, a deep hush fell across the room as another set of footsteps make their way into the room, this time from your right side, where the boss’ office was.

“Ah, Satoru, I thought I’d find you here,” said a velvety voice.

Looking up, you realize your boss has stopped right in front of your cubicle as he spoke to the mysterious man. You recognize his voice from when he joined the human resource manager’s call to congratulate you on getting the job, but now you finally get to put a face to the voice — and what a face it is.

His eyes were closed as he smiled towards the mysterious man, making the latter return it with his own smile. His arms were crossed lazily, making his built arms and his toned chest puff out of his navy blue suit. His hair was tied up messily into a bun, with strands coming down the left side of his face, framing it nicely. You could see his ears, pierced and adorned with dark circular earrings. He stood tall, his frame towering over everyone but his friend, who had started to stroll leisurely towards him.

Gods, does being attractive come with being a lawyer?

“My, my, is that any way to welcome your friend, Seguru?”, said the man, Satoru.

You file that name into your memory, making sure to keep it there for later.

You peek through your lashes as the handsome man finally stops in front of your cubicle as well. Squeezing your thighs tightly, you listen as the two lawyers chat absentmindedly and try your best to type quietly. You do your best to tune out their conversation out of respect, but you can’t help stealing glances at them

As you went to look up at them once more, you realize the man Satoru was now looking at you curiously while your boss continued talking. Your breath hitches again as you stare into his twinkling eyes. Time seems to slow as all you can see is him.

You don’t realize your boss stopped talking until he clears his throat to get his friend’s attention, swiftly ending the intense eye contact between you both. Blushing bashfully, you glance back at your boss to see he was already staring at you with an eyebrow raised. He smiles and turns, facing you now.

“Ah, ____. I forgot to come introduce myself to you. I am Seguru Geto, we talked briefly on the call with Mr. Yu, the human resource manager.”, he said proudly, reaching his hand out to you.

You shake his hand as you spoke, noticing how small yours was in his.

“Hello, Mr. Geto. I’m honored to meet you!”, you say brightly, returning his smile with one of yours.

Your boss' smile widens as he turns his body slightly towards the mysterious man and stretches his hand out to him with his palm up.

“This is my friend and the owner of our sister firm, Satoru Gojo. You’ll see him here as he tends to visit us quite often while he lets his fellow lawyers pick up his slack.”

Your hand is suddenly lifted, taken by the handsome man himself, as he places a gentle kiss on it, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Hello there, ____.”, he says slowly, as if tasting your name on his lips, his smile now a smirk once more.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Gojo,” you stutter out, yanking your hand back to your chest. You can feel your cheeks heating up again as you shyly look up at him. He sends you a wink as Mr. Geto wraps an arm around his shoulders and starts walking back towards his office, hollering for everyone to get back to work and apologizing for the interruption.

Your eyes follow their leaving forms, trying to decipher if this is real life. Before the door to the boss’ office closes, you see them both stopping to chatter, glance your way with smiles, and exit the room.

You look back to your computer once more, feeling the same heat rush between your legs from before. Now it wasn’t just because of Mr. Gojo, but also because your boss is an attractive specimen as well. A naughty thought of being with both of them crept into your mind, making you bite your lip intensely. The air around you felt warmer than before.

Leaving your desk, you quietly tell the clerk to the side of you that you’ll be going to the bathroom, getting a thumbs up in return. You quickly make your way down the hall to where the bathrooms are located. Rushing towards the sink, you turn the faucet to the cold water side and wet your hands, bringing them up to your face and neck as you look at yourself in the mirror. You notice your bottom lip was a bit red, bringing back your earlier thoughts. The sudden thought of being with both of your senior lawyers made your pussy tingle.

Groaning, you throw your hands back under the cold water to try and distract yourself from your naughty thoughts. You think back to your friend’s warning from earlier. Curiously, you wonder why she didn’t give you a heads up on how much of a hunk your boss was as well. Maybe he’s married, you thought as you dried your hands. Tossing away the napkins, you straighten up your blouse and skirt before nodding at the mirror in satisfaction.

Spinning on your heel, you make your way out of the bathroom and into the hallway. Turning back towards the office area, you walk forward — only to slam into a wall.

Faltering back a couple steps, you feel a pair of hands reach out to steady you.

Quickly apologizing, you look up to see none other than Mr. Gojo looking down at you with a concerned look.

“Are you alright, ____?”, he says, looking you over, probably scanning for any injuries.

“Yes, I am. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you-,”

“This is why I told you not to walk backwards,” said Mr. Geto abruptly, rushing forward from behind Mr. Gojo, stopping behind you to look at you as well. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

You realize now that both men are standing on either side of you, each one scanning your frame from the front and back. You look back up towards Gojo, his eyes now settled back on yours, an eyebrow cocked with a sideways grin. You glance back behind you to see Geto’s eyes surveying your body, lingering on your behind for a moment, before bringing them back up to meet yours, a mischievous smile gracing his lips. You swallow the lump in your throat and cough, before nodding to both of them that you’re okay.

The two men make eye contact before looking back at you and nod as well, both of their eyes twinkling as if there was an inside joke that you missed out on. Shuffling your weight from one heel to the other, you apologize again for not looking at where you were going and excuse yourself so that you can go back to work.

Walking away quickly, you couldn’t help but hear them chuckle to themselves as they talked in hushed tones. Before you reach the end of the hallway and enter the office area, you turn your head back to look at them — only to see them already looking at you with matching smirks on their faces.

Sitting down at your desk, you only had one thought on your mind as you tried to continue your work once more:

What a first day at work this has been.

[rubyreduji]

reading and doing — ljh

summary: jihoon catches you reading fanfic about him

tags: smut (minors dni!), gn!reader, idol!jihoon, pre-established relationship, lowkey crack warnings: badly written dirty talk, small dick jihoon <3, explicit unprotected sex, dom(ish) jihoon, choking, restraint for a sec, spit used as lube, fingering, rough sex, fingers in mouth, creampie wc: 2.3k an: a meta ass fanfic. i tried to keep it gn so pls don’t mention the use of certain words okay bye

Woozi thrusts his thick, large juicy cock into your soaking wet pussy and you squeal in delight.

A giggle escapes from your throat as you read the sentence. You will never not be amused by how people like to describe Jihoon’s dick in their writing.

“What’s so funny over there?” Jihoon asks as he turns his desk chair to look at you where you sit on his studio couch. 

“Oh nothing,” you tell him, a small grin still plastered on your face. 

Jihoon knows better than that and stands up and walks over to you. Before you can react Jihoon plucks your phone out of your hand and looks at what you were reading. A look of confusion mixed with disgust appears on his face.

“What is this?”

You snatch your phone back from him. “Fanfiction. About you specifically.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means Carats write stories about you, usually about you and them being a couple. The stuff I read is mostly sex stories, but some of the slice of life stuff is cute too,” you explain with a shrug.

“Sex stories?!” Jihoon now looks more worried than anything else.

“Yeah, they’re kinda funny. Everyone thinks you have a big dick.” You know your boyfriend isn’t insecure about his size, whether it’s his height or…other parts of him, but you still like to playfully tease him every once in a while.

“I don’t know why the Carats would want to write something like that.”

“It lets them be delusional about being with you, let them have it Jihoonie.”

“It sounds like something Mingyu would like. You know how he is about fan interactions.”

“Oh there’s a lot for Mingyu!” You tell Jihoon. “I don’t read them though of course, I only read yours.”

“That I also don’t get. Why even read them when you have the real thing.”

“Because it’s fun! I like to see how people characterize you. The one I’m reading is just for shits and giggles, but some of them are actually good. Here.” You scroll on your phone until you find your folder of saved fics and pull up one of your favorites.

Jihoon takes your phone from you and reads a couple of lines before scrunching up his face and shaking his head. “I still don’t get it. You can’t actually find stuff like this hot.”

“I don’t know, it kind of is. I know you better than anyone else so I can just put you in those situations. It’s fun. I read them when you’re away on tour.”

This gets another dramatic look out of Jihoon. “You do not.”

“I miss you okay! And you’re always busy so I just go to the next best thing. If it makes you feel better sometimes I’ll also put on Ruby when I’m masturbating and just listen to that to get off.”

“Okay and now this conversation has taken a whole new turn.”

You giggle. “C’mon Hoonie, just read this with me. It’ll be fun! Maybe you’ll even find you like them.”

“I’m not sure how I’ll find enjoyment in reading what someone else has written about me.”

“You need to take a break anyways, please!” You give him your best puppy dog eyes and Jihoon glares at you but sits down on the couch.

“I don’t even know why I’m doing this,” he grumbles.

“Because you love me. And you’re secretly curious.”

Jihoon moves so your body is between his legs, your back leaning against his front. His head rests on your shoulder as you hold the phone up to read the fic. 

“This is technically a few chapters into a series but I really enjoy the smut so if the plot doesn’t make sense, don’t mind it.”

“Y/N this ridiculous-”

“Shhh, just read.” 

Jihoon listens to you and you can tell he is actually reading the fic from the small grunts he lets out in reaction to the story. There’s a bit of plot at the start before it gets into the smut and Jihoon stops you at a moment when you can scroll to it.

“Do people really like this? They want to see me in these situations?”

“Oh come on Jihoon you know what the fans think of you. You can’t be totally oblivious. You read your comments and I know you have a burner Twitter.”

Jihoon doesn’t have a rebuttal for that and you smile knowing you’re right. 

“Y/N I really do have work I need to-”

“Wait no, this is the good part.” You lean all of your body weight on Jihoon so he can’t get up, even though you know realistically he’s strong enough to displace you if he really wanted to. Jihoon just huffs and allows you to keep him hostage.

You try not to giggle as you read the smut, especially because you can tell Jihoon is invested. The smut in the fanfic that you picked isn’t anywhere near how Jihoon actually acts in bed and you wish you could see his face to see if he’s either intrigued or disgusted.

“Do people actually think I’m this mean?” Jihoon finally says and you laugh.

“Some people. You can be kinda mean sometimes. I think on camera you come off as standoffish,” you say. “But a lot of people think you’re sweet too. Also people are just kinky like that and enjoy this stuff.”

“Do you? You know I’m nothing like this.”

“I think you’re perfect the way you are. Don’t think me reading this stuff is me actually wanting you to be like this, I just think it’s fun to picture you in different scenarios. I mean, if people wrote smut about me would you want to read it?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never thought about it, because that’s weird to think about,” Jihoon grunts.

“Getting defensive there Hoonie?”

“Just shut up and go back to reading,” Jihoon grumbles.

“Oh you want to go back to reading? So you like it?”

“I just want you to shut up.” 

You do shut up, but only because you want Jihoon to continue reading.

The fic is getting to your favorite part when things start to get really intense. You have to give props to the writer for really going in. You know that you would never be able to find such…colorful language to use to describe the things you and Jihoon get up to.

You can feel Jihoon shift behind you. A small smirk spreads on your face when you feel the smallest bit of bulge press into your lower back. Jihoon likes this. 

“You okay back there Jihoonie?” You wiggle your hips a bit and Jihoon lets out a huff that you’re pretty sure is hiding a moan. “Enjoying this?”

“No.” His voice sounds tense and he answered a little too quickly to not be suspicious.

“It’s okay if you do Ji. It’s a bit of an ego boost isn’t it? Knowing all these people find you’re hot. I know this fic is particularly well liked, it has nearly three thousand interactions on it, and then all of the people who have read it without interacting. Do you like that? Three thousand people want to fuck you Hoonie.”

“I-I don’t-”

“Even if you don’t find that hot, isn’t the actual story kind of sexy? Just imagine it’s you and me in this scenario. Don’t you wanna be tangled up together as you fuck my brains out?”

“Y/N,” Jihoon whines. “Stop.”

“Stop? Stop what? Teasing you? No, I think you like it, just like how you liked the fanfic. Doesn’t it sound fun? Don’t you wanna do mean things to me while telling me how pretty I am?”

“Th-”

“Admit it baby, you like thinking about putting your big, fat cock into me.” You know you’re taking a gamble with your choice of words but it seems to work because Jihoon finally breaks.

You feel Jihoon’s hand come up around your neck and slam your body back into his. “Maybe I do.” His mouth is right next to your ear and you have to admit you do let out a shudder. “You want me to do mean things to you?”

“I think you want to do mean things to me.”

“Maybe I do, what then?”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

That’s all Jihoon needs to flip you both over, position himself over you. You definitely were not expecting to awaken a new kink in Jihoon when you told him to read the fic with you, but you’re definitely not complaining.

Jihoon keeps his loose grip around the base of your neck as he leans down to lock his lips with yours. The kiss is harsh and hurried and it doesn’t take long for Jihoon to stick his tongue in your mouth. He licks at your mouth and you arch your body into his.

His body rests between your legs and you can feel him grind down against you, his dick already fully hard. Jihoon’s mouth pops off of yours with a loud smacking sound. His hand moves off of your neck and trails down your body before it makes it to the hem of your shirt. He pushes his hand up under it, his fingertips making contact with the warm skin of your stomach.

He rubs his palm over your waist before moving higher to grope at your chest. His finger flicks over your nipple and you moan. Jihoon chuckles at this.

“Clothes off,” he growls as he pulls away from you. You quickly comply, stripping down to nothing as Jihoon does this same.

His cock is already slick with pre-cum at the tip and you have the urge to get on your knees and suck him off. Jihoon doesn’t allow this though, as he pushes you back onto the couch. You’re definitely worked up yourself by now and Jihoon can tell.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?”

“You’re one to talk,” you bit back. 

“Ah, but I’m the one in control here.” Jihoon grabs your wrists and pins them above your head. “Aren’t I?”

“Hoon-ah, please,” you beg.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.”

Jihoon grins. “Glady.”

Jihoon lets go of your hands and brings his fingers up to his lips. You watch as he spits on the digits before moving them down to play with your entrance. You buck your hips into his hand and Jihoon uses his other hand to push them back down.

After what feels like an eternity of teasing Jihoon finally pushes one finger into you and you let out a mewl. Jihoon pumps it in and out of you until you start to loosen up and then he shoves another one into you. He continues to do this over again until you’re finally adequately opened up.

“Ready for me?”

You nod and Jihoon lines his cock up to you and pushes in. It’s a comfortable, familiar feeling as Jihoon starts to rock his hips into you. Jihoon is buried balls deep into you when he grabs your leg and hikes up over his shoulder.

Whereas Jihoon is usually soft and slow with you, he’s now fast and hard as he slams his cock into you deeper and deeper. Jihoon has always been an adequate lover, but now you get what people mean by it’s not the size but how it’s used.

Jihoon locks one of his hands around your thigh, digging his fingertips into the fat there. You’re sure you’re going to bruise later, but you don’t care right now. His other hand reaches down and cups your jaw. His thumb swipe over your lower lip before pressing down.

“You right, you do look pretty like this,” Jihoon smirks down at you. This thumb presses harder into your bottom lip until Jihoon finally pushes it all the way into your mouth, pushing down on your tongue. “Next time I’m going to tie you up and make you choke on my cock.”

You whine around Jihoon’s thumb at the image. It’s a good thing Jihoon is blocking you from saying anything because you’re sure if you tried it would just be utter nonsense.

With the way Jihoon is cramming up your g-spot you know you’re not going to last much longer. Luckily it seems like Jihoon is close as well from the concentration displayed on his face.

“Fuck, gonna cum inside, yeah?” You just nod the best you can.

You’re expecting Jihoon to cum first, but your climax creeps up on you and suddenly your legs are shaking as your back arches up off the couch. Your eyes roll back into your head as you let out a wanton moan.

Seeing you fucked out thorougly makes Jihoon spill over the edge finally, his warm cum spilling into you. He stays in you for a moment to catch his breath. He leans down to press kisses to your bare shoulder, nipping at the skin as he does.

Once you two finally have recovered, Jihoon slowly pulls out of his. You can feel his cum slide out of you as he does and it makes you whimper a bit.

“You were so good for me,” Jihoon coos.

“So you liked it?” You grin at him.

He defeatedly nods. “Yeah, yeah I did.”

“Yay! See Hoonie, look at all the doors this has opened. Maybe we should read more fanfiction together.”

“No, nope. We discovered this one thing, no more.” With that Jihoon gets up to go get you some water and a rag to clean up with.

Despite his final protests, you still feel victorious as you grab your phone and scroll down to the comments of the fic you two were reading.

You’re not going to understand this, but thank you SO MUCH for writing this fic, you’re the best &lt;3

taglist: @pandorashbox @leejihoonownsmyheart @soonhoonietrash @chaimi-yuta @embrace-themagic @kayleeshinee @joonsytip @heyxxitsxxtay @synthetickitsune @chwecardcaptor @candidupped @dreamhannies @d0nghyck @niyizh @baldi-2 @enhacolor @noniestars @heavenly-mobo @sunnyteume @debsworld23 @m1nghaos @just-here-to-read-01 @blxckswxnxge @17kwans @jeanjacketjesus @x-veex @namjoonbaby @ovai @belladaises @todorokiskitten @jihoonliker @valentxi @1694 @niktwazny303 @brxzilianbaby @moshiyuron @im-gemmy @honeylovemoon @wonchansbrooklynn @opwolfe @luvthatleader-nim @cbgisland @lorde-oftherings @hoeforcheol @hotricewoozi @prpldahy @nox-writes @wujihoons @0717luv @yeosayang @marzmeltdown @calvinkleinhoon

join my taglist: here!

[wisteriaw0rld]

can i pls request sekido w/reader who's like rlly caring and stuff, and understands his rage when he snaps at them when they try to take care of him after a battle? ik its kinda overused but pls?

-ˋˏ ༻opposites༺ ˎˊ-

✰synopsis: sekido with an s/o that’s his polar opposite yet still knows how to handle being with someone so short-tempered and harsh.

✰additional tags: gn! reader, cursing, small mention of blood, reader getting yelled at, not proof read!

✰pairing: sekido x kind! reader

“if he’s as bad as they say, then i guess i’m cursed.” -Lana Del Rey

You sat patiently on your zabuton, waiting for your lover , Sekido, to return from a mission he went on with the other clones you’ve learned to grow comfortable with. Suddenly, the front door opened, making your head whip to the direction of the door.

Karaku and Urogi walked in first, Aizetsu walking in right after both of them. Karaku looked over at you, mouthing something you could hardly understand.

“He’s real mad Y/n.” Karaku warned with a small laugh at the end. Before you could respond, Sekido walked in. He always had an angered expression on his face. But just by noticing the way he stormed inside, you could tell he was even more mad now.

A gentle smile made its way onto your lips as you stood up off your zabuton cushion, walking over to hug Sekido. Before you could even walk any closer to the demon, he shot you a look. Your arms faltered as you understood he’d like to be alone.

Not even having time to say anything, Sekido stormed off, muttering something under his breath while walking over to your shared room.

You followed after him, peeking your head into the room. Frustrated, Sekido paced back and forth around your room, muttering incoherent words.

“Love? Are you alright?” You questioned, now fully opening the shoji door and confronting your boyfriend.

Sekido glared at you, not wanting to deal with anyone. But you both knew this outburst of his would last for weeks if someone didn’t cool him down. “Leave me alone, Y/n!” He yelled at you. Of course, your gentle features were enough to make him cool down for a short while.

“What happened dear?” You asked the male. He ignored you, his looks not once softening. Sekido shoved you slightly as he moved past you.

“Stupid Urogi and Karaku wouldn’t take the fight seriously! And Aizetsu was just pitying the demon slayers the entire time!” Sekido ranted as your kind aura remained the same and never once faltered.

“sekido.”

“-and they never even take things serisously!”

“sekido.”

“-you know it’s help if they just listened to me!”

“sekido, how about you take a small break and calm down?” You offered with a smile before suddenly grabbing Sekido’s hand and pulling him onto the soft futon with you. Sekido’s face became a bright red but accepted your tight hold on him.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀  ˚ʚsome headcanonsɞ˚ (bc I love this idea sm)

❥the other clones definitely tease sekido for falling in love with someone that’s his complete opposite. And they find it incredibly shocking that you have the patience to deal with his very short temper.

♥even though you know sekido can very easily regenerate, you love when he comes back with a wound and lets you care for him. A bonus for him is the happy look on your face when you tend to him.

❥on multiple occasions, he’s though that you’re too kind for him and he doesn’t deserve you. So more importantly he feels bad whenever he snaps at you. Even worse when you take no reaction to it and never love him less.

♥whenever Sekido’s in a bad mood, the clones immediately go to you and beg you for help. They don’t know how you do it, but you always manage to calm him down.

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Request: heyyyyy can we get a short lil page or story of Janelle’s pregnancy cravings pls🤍🤍🤍

4 a.m cravings

thank you @romansnumberonegirl for requesting this 🫶🏽

for the sake of this story Publix opens at 5 am (unrealistic, i know lol)

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

Taglist: @christinabae @southerngirl41 @reci1996 @jeyusos-girl @jeyusosgirl @melaninsugababy @baconeggndcheez @bemybabiibish @purplehairgawdess @jstarr86 @nbanenefrmdao @arination99 @alyyaanna @m3llowww @gomussy @jeysbae @empressdede @harmshake @theninthwonder @badbitchcentralinc @romansnumberonegirl @bebesobrielo @venusesworld @babysyhsyh

if you name is bold, tumblr won't let me tag you.

There should be no way in hell Josh was standing outside a Publix waiting for them to open. He should be at home in his bed asleep, cuddling with his fiance. His pregnant fiance who had damn near forced him out of his warm bed because she wanted chocolate chip cookies. But she didn’t want the ones they already had, nope. The ones they had in the house already weren’t good enough. She wanted - no needed  Nestle Toll House  at 4 in the morning.

“Josh, “ Janelle whispered, poking his cheek.  “Joshua” She said again, louder. He slapped her hand away from his face and rolled so his back was facing her.  She giggled and started poking him in his back until he turned back around. 

“Janelle” He groaned, his eyes still closed. “Whatchu’ want?” 

“Cookies.” He snorted and pushed her hand away from his face, when she started to poke him again. 

“So go get em’.” 

“We only have pillsbury, they make me nauseous.” He cracked open one eye to look at her. She was sitting up with her back against the headboard. “Don’t you love me?” He sucked his teeth and sat up too. 

“You know I love you Nell.” He sighed and reached for his phone. ‘Girl it’s four a.m take ya ass back to sleep.” 

“So you don’t love me.” She pouted and he groaned loudly before throwing the covers off of him and getting dressed. 

And that’s how he wound up at Publix waiting for it to open because of his pregnant fiance and her pretty ass face. She knew what her pouting did to him. 

“Lemme guess, pregnant wife and her cravings.” One of the workers asked as they unlocked the doors and Josh nodded. He had just grabbed the cookies when his phone rang in his pocket. 

“Sup Nelle.” 

“Hi baby.” She cooed and he rolled his eyes. “Can you grab some more stuff while you there?” 

Josh sucked his teeth but listened as she rattled off what she needed.  “Grapes and sour patch kids OH! and pickles and peanut butter and can you get some chocolate covered pretzels..” When she was done he quickly hung up before she could add anything else.

Janelle was already waiting for him when he came into the house. She clapped her hands happily as he set the grocery bags on the counter in front of her. “You’re the best baby daddy ever.” She said smirking because she knew how much he hated being called that. 

“Aye, quit playin’ with me ‘for I take all this shit back.” She rolled her eyes at his attitude. 

“Love you too baby.” 

“Yeah you betta.” He rolled his eyes. “And don’t eat all the damn cookies. I want some now.” 

“Nope,” She said, smacking his hands when he tried to eat the cookie dough. “Shoulda bought two packs.” 

aah! this was so much fun to write lol. I hope you enjoy 🫶🏽❤️

[sunfyresrider]

𝑴𝒊𝒅𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝑳𝒖𝒔𝒕

Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: The story of how you accidentally became fuck buddies with your best friend... who is a werewolf. Tags: Omegaverse, slick, ruts, knots all that stuff. VV minor manipulation, stressed out best friend, begging, cursing, short story mainly smut Author’s Note: This is my first time writing like this so pls be gentle w me. Inspired by a post my queen made a while ago @lovelykhaleesiii Not my best work but it's a filler while I update some other wips and series.

8:30 pm 

Aegon was going to be late as usual. In the long years of friendship, you had with him he was never on-time to anything, although neither were you. You sunk into the couch and scrolled through your phone, searching for something to pass the time. At the very worst he would be an hour late, at the best he would be here soon. 

9:30 pm

Tiktok was quickly becoming uninteresting and so was any discourse on Twitter you tried to read. The clock ticked on, and Aegon was nowhere to be seen. Your patience was wearing thin, and you couldn't help but wonder what could have possibly caused such a delay. Did something happen to him? Should you reach out to check if he was okay? 

10:30 pm

The minutes turned into hours, and fatigue began to set in. Sitting on the couch, your mind drifted to various scenarios, from Aegon getting caught up in an unexpected event to simply forgetting about your plans. Regardless, his disappearance was unusual, even for him. Normally, he would have texted you with an excuse or promised to hang another there. 

11:00 pm 

As the night grew darker, your concern transformed into frustration. You considered calling or texting Aegon, but a part of you hesitated, not wanting to appear too eager or needy. You were proud, far too proud to let him know he was stressing you the fuck out. Still, you couldn't shake off the worry that something might have gone wrong. You stalked all of his socials, inactive. You tried to check his location, but he turned it off, bastard. You messaged Aemond who politely left you on read, as always. 

By now you should accept the fact he’s ghosting you… After years of friendship, it ends like this. What a load of fucking bullshit, a game only Aegon would play. You’re overthinking, maybe he really was hurt or drunk or lost. Too many possibilities raced through your head as you were getting dressed. 

12:00 pm

Your anxious nature took over as you stepped into his ancient apartment building made of old brick. In the past he’d been known for going on all types of benders. Even though he had been sober for quite some time it did not quell the thought he may have relapsed. Your worst fears grew more prominent each step you took towards his door. What if he was dead? What if he was missing? What if he really was just ghosting you to fuck another female? All of the above were causing your heart to race and stomach churn.

Bang bang bang

“Aegon! Are you in here?!” you shouted from outside the door, digging into your purse for the spare key. “Aeg! If you don’t answer i'm coming in!” From outside you could hear the sounds of… something inside. You weren’t sure if it was a groan or a moan but neither boded well for you. ‘Fuck it,’ you thought to yourself as you jammed your key into the door. The inside was the same, plain and simple. The black couch still sat in front of the flat screen and the kitchen by the door was completely untouched. As you stalked further inside the small whimpers from his bedroom became more and more clear. He was alive, but he must be with someone else. That almost hurt worse. Even if you were just friends, it was painfully obvious how much you fancied him. You were practically fuming, who the fuck was he with now? Your steps turned into long strides as you neared his door, slamming it open with one hand. 

“What the fu-” The scene before you sucked all of the air out of your body. He was alive and… “This isn’t what it looks like!” He jumped, falling off the bed with only a sheet covering him. You were stunned, shocked, confused, and utterly dumbfounded. There he was humping a pillow wi- with a tail? “What the fuck—” you drawled out your words trying to comprehend the situation at hand. There Aegon was, as bare as a baby, with a fluffy tail and ears… 

“I can explain, just- just-” Aegon paused to sniff the air, for the first time he noticed your scent. The pheromones you were releasing immediately threatened to drive him crazy. His rut was horrible this year, reaching the worst today. He took to fucking a pillow and was crying trying to ease the pain… You had no idea how much worse you had made it for him by walking inside. Had you been in heat this entire time and it took a transformation for him to notice your sweet smell? It was intoxicating, mind dumbing and exhilarating all at once. His thoughts became a flurry of all the things he wanted with you. Aegon wanted to ravage you, devour you whole and claim you as his mate. Did you even know you were in heat? 

He stood up, with the sheet poorly covering his erection. His eyes were blurry with tears and his lips formed into a permanent pout. “I need you- I need your help, just please don’t run.” Your eyes drifted down to his bulge; it isn't wrong you were only human after all! “H-how can I help?” There are no words in any language to describe what you were feeling. You were shocked, scared, turned on, and in awe of the tail wagging behind him. Never in any lifetime did you expect the term “human golden retriever” to become a reality. “It hurts- so so bad.” He whined making slow moves towards you so as to not startle you. 

This was odd, he was odd, you were having a fucking fever dream or something. You pointed a finger at his crotch, eyeing him up and down. He nodded his head vigorously and you swore his ears perked up. I can’t fix it without your help.” Was he drooling or was that the tears still falling from his eyes… “w-why?” His voice cracked, “Its- Its a wolf thing.” Ah, he was a werewolf not a dog. He took a step forward and you circled around him, back facing the bed. You weren’t scared, just overwhelmingly confused. Of course, you always wanted him, always thought of him begging but not like this… 

Your breath was sucked out of you once more as he fell to his knees, hand gripping at your sides. He stared up at you with the worst case of puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen. “I’ve always wanted you- I’ve always needed you, but I-I was so scared. P-please! Let me prove it to you.” A bit manipulative, but what else could he do? His cock was throbbing, and you were the most beautiful prey he had ever laid eyes upon. “I… ok, I’ll help.” 

His eyes turned primal, making you automatically realize there was an error in your decision. Aegon, acting purely on instinct, pounced on you. His weight pushing you fully onto the bed, squirming beneath him as his lips devoured yours. A guttural growl escaping his throat as he grinded himself against your clothed cunt. 

Aegon's fingers dug into your thighs as he pulled them apart. His tongue lapped hungrily at your neck, making you shudder as goosebumps erupted across your skin. A moan escaped your lips as his hands moved to rip off your clothes. Of course, he couldn’t just remove them normally. With two quick tears they were gone along with your bra and panties leaving you completely naked under his gaze. Superhuman strength, that’ll take some getting used to.

The feel of his hot breath sent shivers through your body as he moved downwards. He was panting, inhaling the sweet scent of your slick. Aegon needed to taste it, to feel it cover his tongue. His fingers trailed over your cunt before pressing firmly into your slit, causing you to arch upwards. Oh god, were you this wet from him crying? 

You felt the tip of his tongue press against your clit. At first it was just a taste, to test if you were as sweet as you smelled. It was better, so much better than anyone could imagine. His mouth pressed firmly against you, Aegon’s tongue mercilessly lapping at your pussy. The way he devouring you drove you insane, sending shocks shooting throughout your entire being. 

He began to lap faster at your sensitive flesh, desperate to swallow you whole. He behaved like a man starved and this was his last steak. He didn’t care about anything else; all he cared for was satisfying his hunger. His claws pricked your ass cheeks as he knelt between your legs, forcing you open wider. His tongue dipped into your hole causing your legs to shiver. 

"Ahh!" You cried out, buckling as waves of pleasure shot through your core. Your cunt began tightening around nothing as his tongue moved to do circles around your clit. The vibrations of his low growls sending a new pleasure throughout you. 

He pulled back, his face glistening with your slick. Aegon licked his lips lazily, as he stared down at you. "Baby," he purred, baring his fangs you did not know existed. "I’m gonna claim you." His words made you blush, wait how was he gonna? 

He quickly shoved his lips onto your own, sucking every word out of your mouth. His teeth nipping at your bottom lip as he thrusted his hips forwards, grinding against your slick. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as he prodded at your entrance. 

Aegon let go of your face snaking his hands down to your waist… Without notice, he flipped you onto your stomach causing you to yelp. Before you knew it, he was straddling you, one knee on either side of your body. His erection rubbed against the crease between your ass cheeks as he held himself above you.

You looked up at him, watching his chest rise and fall rapidly. He stared at you for confirmation, even in wolf form consent mattered. You nodded, unable to speak. Aegon gave you a feral grin before shoving himself inside you. 

"Oh fuck!" You moaned loudly as he pushed deeper, stretching you wide. This wasn't going to be easy. But then again, neither were any of the things Aegon did. He began thrusting harshly, giving you no time to adjust. Each deep push forced another scream to escape your lips until he dropped his full weight on you, pulling your face up by your hair. 

Aegon’s head dipped into the crook of your neck, near your collarbone and he fucking bit you. From this point on, you were claimed, forever and always his omega. His movements became rougher as he neared his finish. It felt as if his cock was growing inside you. 

Your hands gripped the sheets tightly, as you whimpered and moaned different curses. Your body acting without you as it tightened around him. As if your very essence wanted to give him what he desired most. Allowing him to fill you up and make you his.

"A-A-Aegon!" You screamed out as you came. Your muscles clenching around his shaft. He growled, a real growl this time as his cock began to form a knot, securing himself deep inside you. His arms wrapped unbearably tight around you, squeezing your breasts roughly while he slammed hard into you, burying his cock fully within your womb. Your cunt tightened around his knot as his seed spilled out inside of you. 

You landed in unison, slowly he eased his grip on you so you could sink into the bed. “A-Aegon are you going to move?” You were absolutely clueless as to why you were still stuffed to the brim. His cock must have grown which goes against human biology but apparently so did his very existence. 

He peppered kisses along your shoulder as he moved to pull you into a spooning position. “We’re gonna be stuck like this for a while.”

[flowersbane]

a scenario with a baker!reader gifting Joshua a little cake… which he happily eats (it’s carrot cake and he has no clue lol)

Idk but I wanted to share my silly little thought because I enjoyed your writing :’3

pls, this idea is so freaking cute!!! i'm so glad i finally got to write it, thank you so much for your request and patience, i hope you enjoy

(=´∀｀)人(´∀｀=)

The Trojan Cake

Joshua Rosfield x Reader

I might write another, shorter version of this where the reader bakes him a carrot cake without knowing about his carrot aversion, but, idk, let me know if anyone wants to see that. It would have to be a bit further in the future because I have some other things I'm working on that you can learn about here.

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 1.5k

Tags: Baker!Reader, Finally Getting Joshua To Eat Some Gosh Darn Vegetables, Fluff, Teasing, Unedited, Lots Of Appearances From Other Characters, Fun, Cutesy, Joshua Is Just A Big Golden Retriever

A new shipment of baking supplies was due to arrive today. You sway on your feet as you wait. Water laps at the wood beneath you, but you pay it no mind. Cursebreakers and laborers work on moving boxes off the ship and onto the Hideaway’s Pier.

“Carrots? Again?” Gav’s voice sounds from nearby. “And what are we supposed to do with all of these? We still haven’t gotten through the last shipment of them. There’s only so much carrot bisque a man can stomach. Soon enough, half the Hideaway’ll have orange hair and orange skin.”

Otto sighs. “Food’s food, Gav. We’ll find some use for them.”

Gav’s disgruntled expression doesn’t fade. “Unbelievable.”

Your attention is caught by someone calling your name. Mid waves you over from the ship’s deck. “You’ve got to come and see this! You’ll be grinning from ear to ear when you see how much stuff they’ve sent for you!”

You’re already grinning from ear to ear by the time you reach her side. Crates of flour, sugar, and yeast are tied down to the deck with sturdy rope. “And this is all for me?” you ask.

“You’re the one best suited for it,” Mid points out. “Now, I don’t mean to rush you but I’m pretty sure everyone at the Hideaway can already smell all the fresh baked sweets!”

“Oh, certainly,” Cole agrees as he and a handful of other Cursebreakers approach. “We’ll get these supplies to the Ale Hall,” he assures you.

“What are you going to make?” asks Mid.

You miss a beat before answering, “it’s a surprise.” In truth, you have no idea. You know the people of the Hideaway would be happy with anything you baked, but you didn’t want to fall into a boring routine. You wanted to try something new, even if you didn’t need to.

Mid only makes an excited sound from behind sealed lips. “The suspense is killing me!”

You laugh, but you know how she feels. The frustration of not knowing what you’ll bake weighs on you as well. “Well, best get to it.”

You descend from the boat and make your way back up to the main floor of the Hideaway. There are plenty of boxes that still need to be moved, so the lift is somewhat crowded. You wait for a path to be cleared before darting out.

“Have you tried chopping them up and hiding them in a stew?” Tarja’s voice catches your ear. She and Jote are crossing the Boarding Deck, clearly on their way to the Infirmary.

“If he sees them, he’ll claim he’s not hungry and refuse to eat,” Jote replies. “Not to mention, I can’t say I feel very comfortable trying to deceive His Grace.”

“They’re just carrots, Jote. I’m sure your decree says nothing against ensuring the Phoenix eats well.”

“If it were up to His Grace, I’m sure there would be.”

You continue your way into the main hall. It’s not uncommon to hear Tarja complaining about Joshua’s bad habits. You suppose this time it’s his aversion to vegetables. Especially carrots. Unfortunate, given that seems to be what the Hideaway has most of these days.

You’re halfway across the Main Deck when someone else calls your name, their voice sounding from your left. Speak of the devil. Joshua approaches with an easy skip to his step. The smile on his face tells you that he’s heard about your new arrival of supplies, but not that of the carrots’ reinforcements. Well, he might’ve and is simply choosing to ignore it. In fact, that is more likely to be the reality of things.

“I heard about the shipment of goods. Will you get to baking soon?”

If he were a dog, his tail would be wagging uncontrollably despite his cool disposition. You nod, your own smile creeping onto your face as an idea begins to form. “And you’ll be the first to get a taste.”

“Really? I will?”

You nod again. He’s always terribly eager to sample your new recipes.

He’ll have no idea. “Ah, my love, you’re brilliant.” He places a hand on either side of your head and plants a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll look forward to it.”

“You should.” You certainly are.

As he disappears on to the Boarding Deck, you dart over to the bar. 

“Psst. Cole.” You wave the cursebreaker over.

“What is it?”

“Could you acquire me a crate of those carrots that just arrived? I have plans for them. Oh, but don’t let Joshua know. Keep this between us.”

He gives you a curious look, but does as you ask without question. You ask another of the cursebreakers to keep Joshua distracted for the time being. Your plans would be ruined if he were to walk in midway through.

“What, exactly, are you planning?” someone asks from behind you.

Jill runs her finger over the wooden boxes on the counter. You can’t help the little, proud gleam in your eye. “I’m going to get Joshua to eat carrots and like them,” you declare.

“Oh?”

“A carrot cake! He won’t even know they’re there.”

“I’m not sure if eating carrots in a cake counts as Joshua getting a proper intake of vegetables,” she points out.

You shrug. “Gotta start somewhere.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“Lots.” 

You, Jill, and a handful of other helpers get to work immediately. With no time to waste, the work is made lighter with more hands to share in its labor. The only thing you can’t speed up is the time of actual baking.

“Do you truly believe this will work?” Jill asks.

“I do. Although, it would be a little funny if he could tell anyway. Like some sort of carrot-sniffing bloodhound. A carrot-hound.”

“Who’s a carrot-hound?” Clive stops at Jill’s side.

“Depending on the results of this experiment, Joshua.”

Clive gives you an almost pained look. “Please do not tell me you’re planning on experimenting on my brother.”

“I promise it won’t become a regular occurrence. Probably. Most likely.”

Clive only sighs and shakes his head.

The cakes finish baking and the air is filled with the scent of freshly baked sweets. You and your assistants–now including Clive–are just finishing spreading the frosting when Joshua arrives, eyes alight with excitement. He says your name with a boyish eagerness that makes your heart squeeze. He truly has no idea. “I hope no one has prevented you from keeping your promise to me.”

You do your best not to roll your eyes. He can still be so childish at times, despite himself. “No, of course not. In fact, you’re just on time. I was about to cut the first slice.”

He smiles. “Excellent.”

He doesn’t even seem to notice how everyone pauses to watch as he takes the first bite. He closes his eyes to savor it. You press your lips together to keep your mischief from showing. “This is delicious, my love, as always.” Your heart soars. You’ve done it. And he’s none the wiser.

You exchange a knowing glance with Jill and Clive. Jill looks mildly impressed while Clive simply seems to be marveling at his brother’s obliviousness. “Alright, everyone,” you announce, “you’re all free to dig in!”

- 

Gav arrives about a half an hour after everyone has already begun eating. He and Otto approach, standing on the other side of Clive, who has taken a seat at the bar beside Joshua.

Gav takes note of the remaining cakes. “Ooo, carrot cake, one of Otto’s favorites.”

You, Clive, and Jill freeze, eyes darting to Joshua. You practically see the life drain from his face. He turns a betrayed expression on you, like a pup who’s found his medicine at the center of his treat. By now, he’s already finished two large slices and is halfway through his third. You can’t help, you begin your apologies but the laughter in your voice steals any sincerity from them.

He practically whines your name, saying, “how could you?”

“But you liked it, didn’t you? Before you knew what it was?”

You can practically see his invisible tail and ears drooping. You’ve never seen him look so unlike the Phoenix before. It only makes you giggle more.

“I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know how I’ll recover from this.”

“Alright, my love, no need to be so overdramatic.”

He pouts. He actually pouts. “You’ll have to find a way to make this up to me.”

“Up to you? I did all of this for you.”

“You did all of this for yourself. I hope you’ve had your fun.”

You lean over the counter, smug as one could be. “Oh, I have.”

“Mhm.” He leans forward and places a soft kiss on your lips. You can still taste the frosting. “You better have. Otherwise, I will have eaten this for nothing.”

“You would have, at the very least, learned that you can stomach carrots. Isn’t that something?”

He laughs. “No, absolutely not. Just promise you won’t do something like this again.”

“I promise,” you draw out the word, “that it won’t become a regular occurrence.”

He rolls his eyes, but a smile toys at the corners of his mouth. “What did I ever do to deserve this?”

“Something really good, I imagine.”

His smile grows. “Must have been.”

[strkyoo]

— flowerboys

PAIRING ; florist!tighnari x biker!male reader

IN WHICH ; tighnari has a random crush on his regular biker customer! how interesting … i wonder how will tighnari try to approach him and make him fall for him?

NOTE ; IM SO SICK…,, but ugh florist tighnari literally makes my brain hurts so much to not write it — wc ; 680

// FLUFF — MODERN AU, drabbles, implied he/him pronouns for reader, slow burn?, ONE JUST ONE cringy cyno joke reader made, ‘delulu’ tighnari??

⋆ florist!tighnari who had an … ordinary first encounter with you. it all started when you decided to visit his newly opened flower shop. still, he wasn’t expecting someone as sweet as you to be his first customer!

⋆ florist!tighnari who didn’t realise that his tail was swaying here and there whenever he looked at you, struggling to find a suitable seed when you wanted to plant a new flower.

“need any help, biker guy?” he chuckled as he left the cashier counter, smiling playfully as he saw your struggling expression.

you just smile awkwardly and nodded, barely muttering any word to him because of how nervous you are around this new florist guy.

“... chill, dude. i don’t bite or anything.” tighnari laughed again as he stepped closer beside you, trying to help you to find a seed you’ve been looking for with an amused smirk crossed his lips.

⋆ florist!tighnari who likes to look at your padisarah pin on your clothes, saying that it looks lovely, especially since you’re the one who wear it. he would definitely say that padisarah is as beautiful as you as a joke, and maybe deep down—it’s not really a joke for him.

⋆ florist!tighnari who would always smile warmly whenever you entered his flower shop. he would wave at you with a bright as a sunflower and sweet as a nectar smile, looking at your back lovingly whenever you tried to find a new seed. he rests his chin on his palm-like paw (or paw-like palm idk), staring at you with such a dreamy face.

oh archons … did he just fall head over heels for you?

⋆ florist!tighnari who would like to have a matching floral themed stuff — earring, ring, necklace, pin, whatever it is, as long as he matches with you. a secret, unofficial sign that one day, you will belong only to him… <3

⋆ florist!tighnari who couldn’t help but sometimes give you his favorite flower, seeds, or even gardening items for free to you—saying that it’s a gratitude to always coming over to his flower shop every day. but deep down, he had no reason to give it to you, he just wanted to see your adorable reaction!

⋆ florist!tighnari who hesitated when he asks you if he could have a ride on your bike whenever you have free time.

⋆ florist!tighnari who will chuckle awkwardly in relief when you said he can have a ride on your bike, while deep inside, he wanted to scream “LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOO—”on top of his lungs for getting accepted.

⋆ florist!tighnari who pretend that he didn’t know how to ride a bike together before, it’s absolutely clear that he’s doing it on purpose to hear your cute step by step explanations.

“hold on tight, nari!” you joked slightly, which received a playful flick on the back of your head from tighnari. (pls tell me u get the joke)

you guided his hand carefully through your hips to your waist, which caused him to flinch in surprise when you do that so … casually.

he can feel how soft the fabric of your clothes are, his ears drop in embarrassment as he tries to control his breath and his wagging tail.

“his waist is … so soft … so grabbable.” he thought with a rosy cheeks, finding it hard to focus when he was holding your waist so carefully.

⋆ florist!tighnari who always loves to hold your waist while thinking of romantic scenarios you two would have while biking together 𖹭

likes, comments & reblogs are appreciated (with tags) ! ♡

@strkyoo, 2023.

[ackermonie]

like a hot dad

content: nsfw, long haired levi, breeding kink, daddy/mommy kink if u squint, dilf levi, post war canon

warnings: +18 content, mild manga spoilers, f!bodied reader.

wc: 1.5k~

tags: @motherfckerrr bc they commented ehe

a/n: i genuinely had no idea where this was going i just kept writing and somehow ended up with being h word for dilf long haired levi and idk how to take it back tysm

also pls reblog if u can!! i’m tryna gain back my old followers from my previous blog due to shadowban, so spreading the word could def help!! tysm either way<3

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

do you think levi would grow his hair out post-war?

idk mahn but the vision of him with a short wolf-ish is really getting to me.

i feel like maybe he’d let it grow accidentally. with the healing process for his knee and the rest of his wounds i feel like he wouldn’t really care about his hair, and you’re totally in for it.

it’s a huge change. for years, you’re used to levi’s neat hair and infamous undercut, and you were 100% into it. but now as he finally lets you cut his hair for him instead of doing it himself, you kinda slowly fix it in a wolf cut and let it grow gradually.

you’d come up with excuses every time he asks you to cut his hair.

“i have so much to do around the house today, my love. maybe tomorrow?”

“oh, i’m on my period today. i can barely stand up.”

“oh! i forgot i have to go get stuff from the market! i’ll be meeting gabi and falco, i can’t be late, can i?”

once he gets frustrated with you, the raven silk was already down to his nape. it shaped his face beautifully, and once you caught him with a pair of scissors in the bathroom, your soul left your body.

“WAIT!” you dash to him, holding down the armed left hand. “you’re not left handed! you wanna ruin your hair??”

“shut up,” he rolls his eyes at you. “you’ve been putting me off for months. look how long it’s gotten!” he gestures with a hand to the mirror in front of you two. “i look hideous.”

you slip the scissors from his hands, and levi catches the little sly smile that slips on your face as you squeeze yourself between his body and the sink.

you watch the realization fall on his face while your hands slip in his hair.

“is this what i get for letting my guard down around you?”

“you look beautiful,” you tell him, love struck as you are, never missing the pink dust that rushes to his cheeks “everyone compliments you for it. you still wanna cut it off again?”

“i don’t give a shit about anyone else.” he grumbles and looks down between you both, leaning on his cane. “i don’t look representable.”

“you don’t have to look representable,” your tone lowers in sincerity. a thumb grazes the scar on the right side of his face. “you’re not a captain anymore, my love. you’re free to do whatever your heart pleases.”

he looks up at you, features blank, but you know well how your words are tossing and turning in his brain.

“besides,” your smile returns back to your face, and you pull him a little closer. “you look extremely hot.” a hand trails down to the hem of his shirt, your eyes following the movement, then you return your gaze back up to him. “like a hot dad.”

his eyebrows shoot up, playfulness making an appearance on the previous stoic features. “like a hot dad?”

“mmhm,” you affirm with a mock-nonchalant nod, and you slip away from him jjjuuust when he was about to pull you in. you look at him over your shoulder, mischief pure in your gaze. “i’ll go check on dinner for the guests coming tonight. feel free to join.”

only except that ten minutes later, the kitchen is completely empty and you two didn’t manage to make it past the living room. he was seated on the sofa, head throw back with his fucking hair framing his delicious expression like that, you swear you could cum untouched in your position between his legs as you get to work.

“like a hot dad, huh?” he mumbles, all breathless and shit once you were seated in his lap, his length stretching you perfectly. a hand reaches up to wipe away the remaining of his previous climax on the corner of your lips. you throw your head in the crook of his neck, the pleasure of your hips rolling skillfully against his hitting you bad. “you could’ve just asked, lovely. wanna make me a daddy?”

you manage a shaky nod when he begins to meet your hips halfway.

a hand trails up from your waist to garb your neck, squeezing deliciously as he pulls you away from his neck to take a good look at you. “words, my love.”

“yes,” you nod, eyes closed in bliss. one of your hands grab the wrist of the hand around your neck. “wan’ make y-you a…hhah… daddy.”

“fffuuck…” he groans out when you squeeze around him, letting himself gather enough strength before he throws you off of him and onto the sofa. when your thighs are squeezed together at the painful loss of contact, a palm falls on one of them, leaving a flushed mark in its wake.

“open wide, baby.” he grabs a hold of his cock while he holds the back of your opening thigh to keep the pair apart. the years upon years in the survey corps leave you as flexible as you can be, so when he presses your thigh back, your joints bend easily at his will. pumping himself a few times as he gazes at your glistening folds, another groan breaks out from deep in his chest.

“god, look at you.” he rolls his hips in, and you feel him slip through so pleasurably that you can’t hold back the loud whimper that escapes you.

because damn, how could you not from this view? this is a face of a determined, pussy-drunk man. sweat broke on his forehead, a few strands sticking to the skin while the rest of his hair falls around his face perfectly. you see a ting of pain on his features, and you scatter to try to change your position for a more comfortable one for him, but he is quickly pushing you back down to the couch, a hand falling to your lower abdomen.

the pressure he puts there makes you forget your own name, and it shows on the way your body shivers with bliss. his thrusts increase in velocity, the maddening roll of his hips against yours throwing you in a whole other dimension.

a hand reaches out to grab yours, and through the dizzying pleasure, you realize that levi is pressing your own hand to your abdomen underneath his.

“look how deep inside am i,” he grumbles, leaning down to press a kiss on your bouncing tits. you feel his length stroke in and out of you the more levi puts pressure on your hand. “taking me so well. always so well, baby.”

he takes control of your hand once more, feeling you squeeze familiarly around him, and he pushes your fingers through his hair. you yank on the strands immediately, pulling out a fucking growl out of the man as he leans down until your chests were touching, putting a bit of his body weight on you for support.

you latch onto him like a koala, the burn of your core muscles stretching as he pushes you in a mating press mixes well with your pleasure-high brain. levi kisses, licks, bites down on your neck to leave marks you’ll have trouble hiding later, but you don’t give a shit. you arch your neck more, letting out a long moan when he nips at a certain spot, the bliss turning you mad.

levi is breathless. his puffs of air fan your face when he brings his face on top of yours. a whimper escapes past his lips, his features twisted with pleasure uncontrollably, and you drown in the sounds he makes.

“wann’ make you a mommy too,” he mumbles, open lips landing on the corner of your lips. “wanna…hhah… fill you up. over,” he pauses, delivering an especially harsh thrust that you feel at your cervix. “and over again.”

“levi, i’m so—,”

your body begins to curl into him, eyes closing uncontrollably, and the poor man barely has any chance to ready himself for the way you tighten impossibly around him as you give him your first climax.

your body shivers and quivers, shaking as he overstimulates you chasing after his own pleasure. he leans back up, hands harshly grabbing your lips as he manages to pull you even deeper, and you tightness milk him.

it isn’t the first time he cums inside you, but this one sure hits different. after a few more thrusts that manage to abuse your cervix, levi stills stiffly with a strong groan, and you feel his warmth coat your walls .

he gives you a few more deep strokes as he leans down to kiss you deeply, making sure he fucks all his load deep enough.

his hips still once more, but you keep devouring his lips. weak moans are erupted from both of you as you two calm down gradually, before levi throws sway your attempts of calming down your still-raging arousal when he pulls away, leans up, and slowly pulls out of you.

and he watches the mixture of both your orgasams begin to pool out of you, and you watch as he takes two fingers to push everything back in. you shamelessly roll your hips against bis digits once more.

he looks up at you, fingers still engulfed, snd a smirk takes over his handsome features.

“one more time for good measures?”

[at-wicks-end]

burnout ; jw

john wick / reader 672 words ; angst other tags: mutual pining, right person wrong time, john and reader are in their 30s <3 pls do not repost!!

It shouldn’t be like this, John thinks to himself, feeling sick to the stomach. Still, he keeps his expression pleasant. He is your friend. He should be happy. He should be supportive. You look radiant.

“He proposed last Friday,” you grin, holding your hand out to show him the ring. It’s not ugly, but John would’ve chosen something different. It just doesn’t capture your personality, but he keeps his thoughts to himself. “I wanted to tell you sooner, but I didn’t want to do it over the phone since it’s pretty big news.”

You stare at the ring with a small smile in your face, but John can tell that you’re lost in thought. The unreadable look in your eyes is the only thing that pushes him to ask. “Are you happy?” He says carefully. You blink in surprise, the strange look in your eyes giving way to confusion. 

“Are you happy?” John repeats, and the smile in your face falters.

“What do you mean?” You laugh lightly, but he doesn’t buy it. “I’ve just gotten engaged, John. Of course I am.”

The noise from the rest of the coffee shop seems to disappear as he looks into your eyes, searching. You look put-together, like you always are, but there is a weariness in your posture. You alternate between fidgeting with your mug and your ring, and your smile doesn’t reach your eyes. Suddenly, that look in your eyes isn’t as unreadable as he thought.

“You look unsure,” he says softly. 

“I look tired,” you correct. “I couldn’t sleep last night. I was working through some stuff.”

Another lie. John decides to let it slide this once. “So when’s the wedding?” He changes the topic, and your posture relaxes marginally. 

“Matt wants it to be a summer wedding, somewhere with a beach, maybe?” You say brightly, and John already knows you’re overcompensating. “I wanted it to be in either spring or—”

“Fall,” John finishes, taking a sip of his coffee. “I thought you hated the idea of a summer wedding, much less one at a beach. What changed?”

“Well, Matt really likes the idea, so I guess it’s not that bad?” You shrug, and John can feel his free hand clench underneath the table. 

“You don’t seem that excited,” he points out, and you grimace. It tells him what he needs to know.

He wants to grab your shoulders and shake you so you can come to your senses. He wants to tell you that it should be him instead. He wants. 

Instead, John reminds himself of his reality: he is an assassin and you are a civilian. Being with him is a death sentence, and this is the best possible situation he could ask for. You are safe and away from him, with someone to care for you. John can keep tabs on you from afar, and everyone is happy.

That is the lie John must tell himself.

“For what it’s worth, congratulations,” he says sincerely. “I wish you two the best.”

For a moment, nothing is said. The two of you lock eyes, and his heart lurches at the way his own yearning is mirrored in your eyes. He toys with the idea of being the one to marry you instead—to be standing by the altar with you by his side, to exchange rings and vows with you, to spend the rest of his life with you. He considers confessing now, considers telling you how much he loves you so he can whisk you away from that idiot who can’t be bothered to learn what you like. 

The moment passes.

“Thank you, John.” Your voice is warm but resolute. He knows—you know—that this is the end. 

It should have been me, John thinks to himself. It could have been me.

The sunlight catches on your ring, and John rips out the seedling of hope you had planted in his heart. When the two of you part ways, he leaves his dreams of a quiet life with you.

hello!!! first jw fic here hehe hope you guys enjoy!! this is actually the alternate ending of a much larger fic i'm currently writing, so if you liked this, maybe keep an eye out for that one <3 i'll be crossposting this on ao3 as well.

[daisyful-gvf]

crossfire

18+

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pairings: josh x reader x jake

tags: angry twins🥰 , threesome, degradation, a lot of praise, oral sex (m receiving), rough sex,

word count: 4.6k

summary: you end up staying late in the studio with jake and josh, and things get tense

notes: no twincest obv !! but if twins x reader is not ur thing pls don’t read. i see this as sort of an extension of the malibu stuff so they’re all familiar w each other already.

also if u know me no you definitely don’t <3 this is filthy oops

*********************************************************

“No—fuck, Josh, no, that sounds like shit.”

He took his finger off the intercom button and slumped his shoulders forward.

Jake had spent the better half of the last hour shaking his head. Everything was no, wrong, not quite, fuck, no—

It wasn’t going well.

He was sitting in the rolling chair with his head in his hands. He rubbed his face and took a breath, some cleansing sort of motion.

Josh walked back into the control room, shutting the soundproof door behind him a little too hard. You winced.

“Fuck you, Jake. You wanna try? You wanna sing the fuckin’ song?”

He wasn’t angry—close, maybe, yes—but more frustrated than anything.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” Jake held a palm up and sighed, “The whole reason we’re still here this late is to get this shit. We have to get it,”

Everyone else had left the studio hours ago, either too tired to keep going, or having already finished their work for the day. As usual, the twins were insistent upon committing to the creative process, and so they were here.

So were you, then, partly for the motivation and partly because you enjoyed just spending time with them. They were tired though, and probably hungry, and so things were feeling generally dismal.

Josh plopped himself down on the loveseat in the corner, laying on his back, and pushed his face into the corner of his elbow.

“I know we have to get it, Jake, do you think I’m just dicking around?”

Jake settled for rolling his eyes.

You sat silently in the chair beside Jake, tempted to move one or two of the sliding buttons on the panel before you. You wouldn’t dare, though, not right now, for fear that you may lose a hand.

They weren’t really like that—they probably couldn’t yell at you if they tried, not really. But they were unpleasant when they were mad. Too stubborn for their own good, too picky to settle for less than perfect, and too damn critical of themselves and the other guy.

So you sat quiet, gave small praises where you could, sipped your drink. And watched.

Because maybe they were unpleasant when they were like this, but fuck if they didn’t look a little nice with their brows furrowed down, biting a lip here and there, jaws and hands tensing.

“You wanna try your shit?” Josh murmured, sounding defeated.

“Yeah.” Jake huffed a heavy sigh out and got up from the chair in a sudden motion, also slamming the door on his way out.

You watched him take his place on the stool in the room across the plexiglass. He grabbed the Les Paul with some amount of determination and found the cord nearby on an amp. He plugged it in with little finesse, and then focused closely on the tuning pegs, twisting them so slightly you wondered how it was doing anything, or how he knew what sounded best.

He looked up briefly then, and met your eyes. He gave a curt not. You gave a meek smile back.

He softened for a second, and gave the quickest of winks. You bit back a smile as he turned his head down to the fretboard.

Unfortunately, the tender moment was brief—about ten seconds in to whatever Jake was attempting, there was an abrupt squeak of a note that clearly did not belong, and Josh stood up from the loveseat.

“For fucks’s sake,” he breathed. He moved to the rolling chair Jake had been in and held down the intercom button, talking into the mic. He leaned forward, bracing his elbow on the panel board.

“I thought you said we have to get it, Jake,” he bit out, and you held back a gasp.

Your eyes flitted to Jake, trying to be subtle.

You couldn’t hear Jake, but you could see him spit out a “Fuck you,”

He didn’t look like he was teasing—his brows stayed furrowed, and he shook his head, seemingly at himself.

Josh slumped back in his chair and rubbed his face.

Softly, you spoke up, “You okay?”

Josh sighed, drawing his hand from his face gradually, before landing it in his lap. He was wearing these pants you loved—patchwork cotton. Very peace, love, and unity. His shirt was plain black, but it still hugged him nicely.

“Somethin’ like that,” Josh answered you, gruff.

You spun in your chair a bit, trying to move the air in the stiff room.

“You know you’ll get it,” you encouraged, “You know he’ll get it.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Hey,” you murmured, a little hurt.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I’m sorry, I know. Just doesn’t feel that way til it actually happens,”

You nodded.

Jake started again, smooth and easy. You smiled at the wonderous way he had with the instrument—it sounded fucking great, which checked out with him being a grammy-winning artist and all, but still, it was different to hear it so raw. No matter how many times he played in front of you, it was hypnotizing.

He got into it, then, closing his eyes and scrunching up his face how he did, tapping his foot, and—

The string snapped with a startling twang, coiling up to lash at his hand before flopping lifeless in the air. You tensed.

“Fuck!” You could see him yell, and in a swift motion he was up, kicking the stool, ripping the cord out of the cable jack, shoving the guitar into its stand, and—

“Gotta be fucking joking, gotta be fucking joking,” Josh smacked his hand down on his knee, “That’s great—“

Jake yanked opened the booth door, not bothering to shut it behind him,

“I don’t wanna hear it,” he stared, sitting on the loveseat, “I don’t wanna fucking hear it, I don’t wanna deal with it, I—“

“It’s a fucking string, Jake, just go change it—“

“No,” Jake pointed a finger at him, “No, Josh, you’re not gonna tell me what to do when you can’t sing the goddamn lyrics that are written on a piece of paper—“

“Are you serious?” Josh stood with his hands up at his sides, “Are you fucking serious, Jake? You know I have to focus on what the hell I sound like while I’m reading these fucking lyrics we wrote only four hours—“

“That’s your fucking job!”

“Hey!” You snapped, and their eyes bolted to you in a panic, like they forgot you were there. “What the hell? Are you two professional muscians or not? What the hell is this?“ You waved your hands in the air as to demonstrate your point.

They looked stunned, blinking at you. Josh stayed quiet. You looked at Jake, then, who was grinning slowly.

There was a long beat of silence.

“Well,” Jake said, letting his palms fall down against his lap, “Angel has something to say, huh?”

You swallowed, gauging his tone. You hadn’t heard it before. Then again, you can’t remember ever seeing him this irritated before, much less while you were involved.

“You wanna help, huh, sweetheart?” Jake grinned. He sounded on edge, with a high pitch in his voice that you identified to be suppressed frustration.

“I…” you didn’t know where you were going with your response.

“Come here, then,” he patted his thigh, motioning you over to him with his other hand. He rolled his tongue against the inside of his cheek: something that made your stomach turn with equal parts nervousness and intrigue.

“What…” you cursed yourself for all the half-assed sentences. This was new territory, though..

“You heard me,” he nodded, “Come sit,”

He slid down a bit, spreading his legs in a display of masculine possessiveness. You would have thought it was slightly humorous any other time, but now it was just hot.

Your eyes flitted over to a silent Josh, hoping to find some sort of clue to understand what was unfolding.

“Don’t look at him,” Jake interrupted your thought. Your head snapped back to him. His eyes were dark. “Don’t look at him,” he repeated. His voice was low, and it was apparent, now, his intentions, “Be good and come here.”

Partly because you didn’t want him to have to repeat himself, and partly because you were suddenly very turned on, you made your way to him and straddled his lap.

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” Jake smirked, pushing your hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. A gesture so gentle, it contradicted his predatory stare, “You want us to ease up, angel?” He traced his finger along your jaw.

You nodded softly, opting for silence given that you weren’t sure what exactly to say.

“Mm,” Jake nodded, “Wanna help?” He tilted his chin down and looked up at you through his lashes, but you were sure this wasn’t real submission—he was nearly vibrating under your skin with something tense and pent up. “Wanna let me get some frustration out?”

Jesus. You sucked in a sharp breath.

“Yeah?” Jake murmured, leaning forward to kiss your jaw, “Always so eager to help, aren’t you?”

“Jake…” you let out a shaky breath, intending to finish the thought when Josh interrupted.

“Oh, sure, just go at it like I’m not right here,” He huffed.

You turned your head to meet his gaze, trying to silently let him know you wouldn’t be opposed to his joining.

“No one asked you to just sit over there, Josh,” Jake said, biting a kiss to your neck, “Stop pouting,”

“Yeah, her sitting on your lap is a real clear invitation,”

Jake chuckled against your skin. He licked your collarbone and you bit your lip, leaving them to bicker, letting yourself get caught in the crossfire.

“Jealous, huh?” Jake murmured.

“No,” you heard Josh stand up.

Jake pulled you down against his mouth as you heard Josh walk away. You panicked momentarily that you had scared him off, but then, a sweet little sound: the studio door locking. Then, the soundproof door latching shut.

You opened your eyes, and the lights were dimmed. There was an orange glow from the control panel.

Jake watched your face and traced a finger over your cheek.

“No, I’m not jealous,” Josh was close behind you, “‘Cause she’ll be sweet to me too. Won’t you, mama?”

Josh’s hand was around your neck, tipping your head back with a light force. He was there, then, enveloping you in a kiss.

You sighed into it, your legs tightening around Jake’s torso. After a moment, there was some territorial noise from Jake, and his fingers were on your jaw.

You pulled your head down from Josh to look at his twin. Jake smirked, and like that, you were putty between them.

Josh removed his hand and let Jake pull you in by the back of your head, crashing your lips together.

He let out a soft mmmf, and you were eager to do whatever you had to do to hear it again.

Experimentally, you slid your hips forward so you were sitting pressed closed against him, then ground yourself down. He hummed again, his hand in your hair tightening down. His other planted itself over your thigh, pressing firmly.

As Jake licked into your mouth, you found yourself wanting to be fair.

“Josh, c’mere,” you murmured between kisses. You beckoned with your hand to the empty part of the loveseat; not a large space, but it would work.

“Don’t say his name while my tongue is in your mouth,” Jake muttered, biting your bottom lip.

You whined and nodded; this was so new; they weren’t like this when you were together. They butted heads in a playful way often, but possessive was not a word you’d have used to describe your interactions so far.

After a minute more of kissing Jake, you pulled away abruptly to look at Josh. Josh was flushed, an odd expression on his face—maybe desperation, and jealousy, despite his previous defense.

Reading something on your face, Josh leaned forward and met you in a needy kiss.

Jake’s hands tightened on your thighs, but he leaned back, allowing the kiss to proceed.

You cupped Josh’s face in your hands, and he reached a hand out to rest on your shoulder.

He was kissing you hard, teeth bumping together occasionally, hot breath exchanged between your lips, lips slick and swollen.

It only went on for a minute or so before Jake grew impatient. He touched the bottom of your chin, asking you to come back to him. You listened, pulling away to settle back against his lips.

After kissing him for another moment, you pulled back to catch your breath. Both of them watched you.

Jake’s hand moved up to touch your face and as it did, you caught a glimpse of dark red

“Jake,” you murmured, grabbing the hand. You quietly gasped at the lash against his skin. It wasn’t bleeding, but the flesh was raw in a line across his palm.

“When the string broke?” You asked.

He nodded curtly.

Gently, you unfurled his fingers and pressed a kiss to it. He sighed, shoulders dropping in relaxation.

His demeanor softened for just a moment, a quiet curse slipping from his mouth, before he growled low and lifted you to your feet by your waist:

“On your knees,” he gritted out, standing in front of you.

Josh looked as though he was just along for the ride at this point, following his twin’s lead, as he watched you react to Jake’s command.

“C’mon, pretty girl, help us out, huh?,” Jake was saying, undoing his belt and jean zipper.

You sunk to your knees upon instinct, bound by the warm depth of his voice. You were thankful the room was carpeted, though you probably would have done it regardless.

“Um,” you murmured, looking around the room, suddenly coming to your senses, “Are there cameras?”

Josh was standing then, coming to cup your cheek in his hand, “Only out by the gear,” he motioned his head to the room next door, “And it’s dark, we’re fine, mama.”

You nodded as Jake was shoving the front of his jeans down a bit, leaving you to look at the shadow of him straining under his boxers.

Carefully, you looked up at him through your eyelashes. His eyes were dark.

“S’yours,” he huffed out, nodding down at himself, “Take it,”

You nodded, reaching for the hem of his boxers, tugging them down to let his cock spring free.

He looked as if he was studying you, his head tilted just to the side, his hands tracing along your jaw as you reached for him. You touched him gingerly, wrapping your fingers over him.

You licked at the head, sucking it languidly into your mouth. His stomach tensed but his teeth were gritted, and he kept his composure.

He grabbed the back of your head and pushed himself into your mouth, tentatively, testing the waters. You whimpered and relaxed your throat, resting a hand at the base of him to help guide him.

“Let me fuck your pretty mouth” He breathed, “Tap my leg if you want me to stop,”

He gave a slight pause to allow you an out, and then when you didn’t take it, his head was falling back as he started slow thrusts against your tongue.

“Good fucking girl,” he was panting, “That’s a good girl, angel, letting me use you,”

“Jake…,” Josh gave the warning in a soft tone.

“Oh, shut up,” Jake groaned, still focused on you, “She likes it. Get with the program or get out.”

Josh made a strangled sort of grunting noise and then he was pulling his pants down just so, taking himself into his palm. Suddenly, he was fisting your hair and yanking your face towards him. Jake let go, allowing the switch.

You moaned too loud, taken aback by the possessive display.

“Yeah, mama,” Josh was murmuring as your mouth closed around him, “Thank you, sweet girl, just like that,”

He was thrusting slower than Jake, possibly scared he may hurt you, or scared he may not be able to stop if he did any more.

“You’re so slutty,” Jake murmured in the background, “Makes me so fuckin’ hard,”

You spared a quick glance to him and realized he was stroking himself slowly. He looked at you with his eyes full of desire, his jaw tensing and forearm fluttering.

“Come back, pretty slut,” Jake growled, doing as Josh had and bringing you back to him. You caught a deep breath and then let yourself be led, taking whatever he wanted to give you.

The underlying care they were taking; the soft cradles to your jaw, the way they were grabbing your hair at the roots so as to not sting so bad, the way the first thrust into your mouth was softer, was melting you.

After no longer than another minute, Jake was pulling you off of him with his fist in your hair. He tilted your head back just to look at your lips shine.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, “Look so pretty when you’re ruined, angel,”

You whimpered, waiting for his next move. Your knees felt sore, and the ache between your thighs was nearing unbearable.

“Let her up, Jake,” Josh murmured.

Jake nodded, helping you to your feet. He backed you up against the desk with the controls, biting at your jaw, holding your cheek firm in his hand.

“I’ll go down on you later, angel. Just be a good girl and let me have you right now, yeah?,” he breathed into your ear.

You nodded and whimpered, unable to do much else with the way he was speaking clouding your mind.

“Bend over,” he rasped, turning you and pushing you over the desk. He yanked your pants down to just below your ass.

For a moment you were concerned about all the keys and buttons being dislodged, but as soon as the slick head of him pressed against you, all other thoughts vacated your mind.

“So sweet, angel,” he whispered, “Such a willing little thing, aren’t you?”

You bit your lip, bracing yourself for the stretch of him, as he continued to nudge against you.

“Answer me,” he demanded.

“Yes,” you whimpered, “Whatever you need, both of you,”

You caught the noise that Josh made at that. You could see him through the blurred edges of your vision, a few feet from Jake, watching, not even touching himself, just raking his hands through his hair.

“Good girl,” Jake hummed, pushing into you all at once, shoving the front of your thighs into the edge of the desk. “Fuck,” he hissed through his teeth, “Needed you,”

He wasted no time, settling into a harsh pace, one of his hands at your hip gripping hard, the other wringing through your hair.

“Jake,” you whimpered out, “Oh—god—“

“Yeah, angel? That feel good?” He teased, snapping his hips.

You nodded and whined, hands grasping for purchase on the desk, thighs beginning to shake.

“I know, angel,” hs gripped at the flesh of your ass, groaning as he did, “Take it just like that, sweetheart, so good for me,”

You let yourself submit to it, mind blanking at his forceful thrusting, his need making your stomach burn warm.

Suddenly, there was another hand on your lower back. After a set of low, unintelligible grunts, Jake was pulling out swiftly. Before you could process anything, Josh was buried to the hilt inside you, hips pressed to your ass.

“Oh my god,” you cried out, “Oh, fuck, Josh—I—“

“Mm, mama,” he breathed, “I know, sweet girl,”

He gave a slow thrust in and out.

“Let me know if it’s too rough,” he breathed, “Okay?”

You nodded, reaching a hand back to grab his. He took it, steadying himself with another hand on your waist, and with that he was gone, fucking hard and deep into you, making you throb around him.

He was choking out soft cries, letting the tension melt from him. He was also gifting you soft praises, muffled and intertwined with his curses, eager, “good girl”s, and “so sweet”s.

Between the way he was hitting the perfect angle inside you and his general demeanor that was so much more urgent than normal, you were hurtling towards your end quickly.

You grew more vocal, and Josh as always, was paying attention.

“You need to cum?” He muttered, “I can feel you squeezing me. Wanna cum?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, “Fuck, please,”

“C’mon then, do it, sweetheart, let me have it,”

You gasped and let your cheek press to the cold desk as it slammed into you, him fucking you through it, not relenting for a moment.

After you had caught your breath, he was pulling out, smoothing his hand over your hip.

“Come here,” he murmured. You stood, legs shaking, turning to face him. His cheeks had red, flushed stripes, and his chest had a slight sheen of sweat. Jake had reclined on the loveseat again, working his hand slowly over himself.

Josh pulled you into a fervent kiss, backing you against the desk as he licked into your mouth.

When he parted, he smoothed your hair, tucked it behind your ear. He helped you step out of your pants the rest of the way and tossed them on the rolling chair.

“Jake, gimme one of our shirts,” he said, watching your face.

Jake tossed him the clothing, and he set it on the flat part of the desk behind you.

“Can you lay back for me, mama? Wanna watch your face when I cum,” He nipped at your cheek and you nodded, doing as he asked. It was only slightly uncomfortable, but as he sank into you, pulling your thighs flush to his hips, you felt nothing but bliss.

“That’s it,” he reached up to hold your chin, “Look at me while I fuck you,”

Your eyes rolled back for a moment but then you forced yourself to focus on him, his dark eyes, his flushed face.

He fucked you just as hard, gripping the fronts of your thighs, biting his bottom lip as he came apart.

For a moment, he slowed way down, eyes falling to watch himself push into you. He dragged out slow, then eased in slow, sending his eyes rolling back, lashes fluttering, head falling back.

“Fucking—oh,” the breath shuddered from his chest, “Gonna cum,” he admitted, resuming the harsh pace.

“Yeah, Josh,” you groaned, breathless, “Fuck, please,”

He nodded, head shaking slightly as he lost his composure, and then his head snapped down, eyes glued to yours, as his lips parted in a soft groan and he spilled over.

You whimpered, watching him, taking the throbbing feeling of him in. Slowly, his eyelids fell shut. He took a deep breath, and then opened them to look at you. He grinned.

“Well,” he chuckled, “that helped,”

He leaned forward to kiss you. You grinned into it, sucking softly on his bottom lip as he pulled away.

Jake was behind him before you knew it, and your cheeks were heating all over again at the realization that he still looked so tense.

He grabbed Josh’s shoulder with a small squeeze, and Josh stroked his hand over your thigh as he pulled out.

He pressed a kiss to your leg before he backed away, going to lay back on the loveseat.

Jake slid between your legs, eyes dark and focused. His hands traced over the insides of your thighs. He circled your clit with a gentle finger, and flashed a grin as you jolted at the touch.

“Mm,” he hummed, “I’ll do more of that for you later, angel. Just gonna fuck your right now, cause I need it.”

You nodded, biting your lip.

He sank into you, eyes shutting briefly as he rolled his hips, “You can come back to my place, mm? I can take care of you?”

As he had before, he began fucking into you at a rough pace, slamming your skin to his, hitting somewhere perfectly deep in you.

“What if she wants to go back to my place?” Josh spoke up from the other side of the room.

Jake looked annoyed, and he let loose, gripping your hips and fucking into you with reckless abandon, “Then I guess she can fucking choose, can’t she?” he gritted.

“Watch your tone” Josh warned.

“Oh, please, she likes it,” Jake grinned down at you, “Don’t you, angel? Hmm? You like when we’re just a little mean? Does it get your panties all wet?”

“Fuck, Jake,” you breathed, clenching around him as your eyes squeezed shut.

“Yeah, you do,” he grinned, voice low, cracking here and there, “I see how it makes you blush, y’know. How your pretty eyes go back and forth, watching us.”

Somehow through the incredible force of him fucking you, you were able to conjur a thought about how hot it was that he was so perceptive.

“Answer the question, angel,” Jake reminded, “Wanna come home with me, let me take care of you?”

You didn’t want that, though, not with Josh in the room especially. You hated the feeling of being unfair to them, choosing just one.

“Maybe I’ll go back to his place and you can come along,” you grinned at Jake.

He slowed the pace of his hips, moving with punctuated thrusts.

“Yeah?” His eyes were wild as he smirked, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Get us both all over again?”

You whimpered, nodding.

“Mm,” he licked over his lip, “See, you’re so fucking slutty, angel,” He was smiling wide now, “You want us both to take care of this sweet little clit?” he drug a finger over it softly, “Want both of us touching you?”

“Fuck,” you breathed, vision beginning to blur.

“Yeah, you do. You greedy thing,” it was unclear at this point if he was talking in such a vulgar way for your pleasure or his, “Want me to eat you out til you cry, hmm? Bet you’d love that,”

“M’gonna cum, Jake,” you breathed, overwhelmed by the things he was saying.

“Oh, you do love that, huh?” He grinned. He grabbed your cheeks and held your face, locking eyes with you, “Cum, angel, with me, do it.”

Your head fell back and you nearly screamed as it ripped through you, hot and wonderful. Jake was groaning and whimpering, fucking you through both of your orgasms.

He slowed as he came down, finally settling with hips against yours, tracing gentle lines up and down your belly with his pointer finger.

“You’re so sweet, angel,” he was smiling gently, “Thank you.”

This was your Jake. Regular, sweet Jake. You smiled back at him.

“I really will take you home, baby,” he murmured, pulling out gently and leaning in for a soft kiss, “Clean you up and make a mess of you all over again, mm?”

He helped you off the desk slowly.

“And I really meant what I said,” you looked to Josh, “I want you both.”

They both were grinning at you, and Jake nodded softly.

You grabbed your pants and tugged them back on, groaning at the feeling of them leaking out of you. It wasn’t all bad, but with you far from any kind of shower, it was a little unpleasant.

“Wanna come to my place so we can all fit in the shower?” Josh murmured, tugging his clothes back on, “I can order some take out.”

You nodded. pulling your shirt over your head, and Jake hummed in agreement.

After he was dressed, Jake pulled you into a hug.

“Thank you, angel,” he murmured into you hair, rubbing your back.

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Of course. You’re right, you know,”

His eyes flitted over your face, trying to understand. He raised a brow.

“S’kinda hot when you’re both angry,”

Him and Josh gave short laughs, and he kissed you hard.

“Glad it’s fun for you, at least, angel,” he grinned, letting you loose so that you could help try and tidy up the studio before making your way out.

“Gonna have to bring you here more, mama,” Josh grinned, giving you a playful smack on the ass.

“You might not get asked to come back if we do this again,” you laughed, “Maybe I can find ways to annoy you both at home,”

Josh laughed, “You know what,” he grabbed his keys and wallet and took your hand as you walked to the door, “I’m not entirely opposed to that, sweetheart. Do your worst.”

fin.

[jazzyderaoz]

This is a strictly 18+ blog

You must have your age stated in your bio to follow/interact. I will block minors instantly + add you to ban list for the foreseeable future. In addition I will block and permanently ban any nasty little pisstakers. I don’t engage with human slimes of any kind; inc but not limited to: radfems, lgbtq+ exclusionists (any variety), phobes, maps, abusers or anyone I take a disliking to inc boundary stompers.

psst…. (Deraoz is pronounced /Dee-ray/os-z/)

Hey I’m Jasper, (but Jas, Jazz or Jazzy works too-if you’re feeling brave.)

My pronouns are he/him. I’m a queer transmasc guy from the UK.

~~~

Some stuff about me:

I’m 26, been dominating for around 5 years now, but topping a little longer. I almost exclusively top, but I have and do make exceptions to that rule when I’m in the mood, though it doesn’t happen often.

I’ll be posting mostly t4t content here, I’m bi, though I’m especially attracted to transmascs/transmen.

Physically I’m masc-presenting. I’m genderqueer and male-aligned. I still possess my natal genitals. My personal style tends to be jeans/t-shirts/denim or leather jackets. I’d call myself a guy, a boy, a queer, a mess, a dumbass-

I’m a kickboxer, it’s important to me to maintain my strength and stamina (😏) and it’s euphoric for me as to maintain a masculine build. Know that when I talk about manhandling my subs, I am usually more than capable of doing so whatever their size.

I love to dom but outside of that I’m soft as anything, love to cuddle, love taking really good care of my subs. Love being a protector type x

If you send me an ask I’ll almost certainly flirt with you, can’t help myself tbh - but I’ll take the lead from you as to how nsfw your ask is. Totally sfw question, fair enough I’ll be real with you. Tell me you’re wet and want me to fuck you? My reply gonna be horny as hell so be prepared for that…

I’m big on pet names. If you don’t want me to call you something in particular (in an ask for example) please let me know. Pet names I use most often are baby(boy), honey, sweetheart and darling - I also like to call my subs lovely/little___ etc.

My aim here is to get you as hot and bothered as possible. I love to get sent asks, any dirty little fantasy baby, I want to hear it.

~~~

Keep Reading for Kinks / Hard Boundaries etc.

🟢 Kinks & Turn-ons: 🟢

-> Praise (me@you)

-> Hair Pulling / Bruising / Rough Play

-> Size Difference

-> Desperation/Edging

-> Humiliation

-> Manhandling and Restraint

🔻Some Boundaries:🔻

🔸 Please don’t send any asks/prompts trying to top me unless you’ve asked first, I’m picky about it lol.

🔸 No petplay - related asks in my inbox pls. I won’t block you but I won’t reply to them either.

🔸 Hard limits resulting in me blocking you should you feel the need to try to include me in them; - -> noncon, piss/scat, ageplay, high intensity masochism/sadism (verbal abuse/HI spanking esp) - (lower intensity/softer I'm occasionally up for - I'll spank you with my hand just not a riding crop lmao)

🔸Content Masterlist:🔸 (🔞)

Writings: 💛 - longer writings || 🧡 - shorter thoughts

💛 on my lap, riding my cock

🧡 want to suck on tdick so bad

🧡 get on the fucking bed

💛 desperate little mess

🧡 tiny little boytoys

🧡 aftercare (softjazz) - sfw

💛 messy little plaything

💛 manhandling + semi-rough use

🧡 humping, pinned against the wall

💛 pull my hair and fuck my mouth

——— ——— ——— ——— ———

Tags:

#tag:softjazz - (For yearnings/soft postings)

#tag:manhandling

#tag:sizedifference

#tag:edging

#tag:asks

#tag:jazzyrealtalk - (For actually saying shit/opposed to just straight up hornyposting lmao)

——— ——— ——— ——— ———

Anon Tags:

#anon:🌻

#anon:🕸️

#anon:🐝

#anon:💙

#anon:🏝️

#anon:✨

Credit for dividers here

[welcometololaland]

wip wednesday for y'all (on thursday) - thank you for your tags @rmd-writes @carlos-in-glasses @kiwiana-writes @heartstringsduet @cha-melodius @strandnreyes @hippolotamus @inflarescent @alrightbuckaroo @three-drink-amy @birdclowns @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, i hope to get to the snippets to read on my lunchbreak and reblog! thank you for continuing to think of me, i love reading your stuff <3 here's a little something from the au @rmd-writes have just started entitled Call Me (By My Name):

“Watch it,” the guy snaps, stepping neatly to Carlos’ right as Carlos practically flattens himself against the rear of the truck. They stop for a moment, time seeming to stand still as Carlos stares unapologetically at the man in front of him.

The captivating eyes are framed with dark lashes, fanning out across perfect, high cheekbones and complemented by full, pink lips. They look breathtaking, even though they’re wearing a scowl, and Carlos wants to press the tip of his finger to one, just to see how soft they are. He bets this guy is a good kisser, which is a very inappropriate thing to be thinking at the scene of an accident.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, even though he hasn't done anything wrong. This man – this beautiful, intriguing person – has Carlos’ heart feeling as if it's sitting in his throat, threatening to leap right out of his mouth. “I didn’t—”

“Hey, you’re APD, right?” the guy says, breaking the breathless trance Carlos has seemingly devolved into. “Can you, I don’t know, do your job? My captain is out there breaking up fights between drivers and you’re hiding around the back of our truck.”

Carlos starles at the accusation. “I'm not hiding,” he protests. “I just got here!”

“Great, good!” the man bites back pointing around the other side of the truck with passion. “The fight is over there, just in case you wanted to start helping out.”

“Should I bypass dispatch and just ask you where I’m needed?” Carlos retorts, surprised by his own assertiveness. Mere seconds ago he’d been in some dreamlike state where this man was kissing him into oblivion, but it turns out that’s just a figment of Carlos’ overactive imagination. This guy is a dick.

The man scoffs and turns away, the fluoro on the back of his turnouts directing Carlos’ attention to his name. Carlos opens his mouth, unsure of what he’s planning to say, when TK Strand calls over his shoulder.

“Maybe don’t make us do your job for you next time.”

open tag because i'm very late, but also for @lightningboltreader (because you said you were almost finished one bed!!!!) @watmalik @fitzherbertssmolder @a-kinkajou @inkweedandlizards and @whatsintheboxmh (because i'm a fiend for art wips!) @lemonlyman-dotcom (i know you posted a fic today, but just checking!) @wandering-night19 (spoilers for next chapter maybe?) @chicgeekgirl89 (hows seafaring?) @freneticfloetry (no pressure! i hope your vacation is going well!) @goodways (make me laugh i dare you) @rosedavid (are the words working?) @theghostofashton (more exes more exes more exes??? no pressure obviously i'm just a fiend) @ladytessa74 (did i make up that you were writing a spooky season au?) @indomitable-love (football wip PLS!!!!) @athousandrooms (anything from you is my beloved) @orchidscript (haven't seen you around recently pls share if you have something!!!)