#i am going to break your fucking legs. for real.

[beanghostprincess]

I believe Sanji is pretty awkward around kids for obvious reasons (having an abusive father and an unconventional relationship with your real dad will do that to you) while Usopp is extremely good with kids because he has spent his whole childhood and teenage years taking care of the Usopp Pirates as an older brother of sorts. So when they're older and married and decide to actually have kids (post-Sanji having a breakdown about him being a good father) it's just so fucking funny to me.

Usopp, holding the baby: Do you want to hold her? Sanji: Yes. Usopp: You're- You're not- Pfft. You have to like, at least move to do this. Sanji: I want to. I won't. Usopp: You're going to spend all of your life without holding our kid, then? Sanji: I'm going to drop her and then I will have to kill myself for committing such atrocity. Usopp: Have I ever told you you're an idiot? Sanji: I am scared to drop her! It is a very rational fear! Usopp: You can carry at least forty plates full of food in both hands and legs somehow without breaking anything and you're afraid you will drop her. Sanji: Forty-five. And yes. Usopp: What if I let her fall like- Will you not catch her? Sanji: Just do not drop her???? Usopp: BUT WHAT IF IT HAPPENED Sanji: STOP TURNING THIS THING AROUND JUST GIVE HER TO ME I HATE YOU Usopp, giving Sanji the baby: Well, how does it feel? Sanji, holding back tears: She weights absolutely nothing 😭

6 y/o kid: Daddy! Do you know any cool games? Sanji: Hi, princess. Um. Don't you usually ask these things to, um, your other dad who also happens to be way better than me at these things? 6 y/o kid: But I want to play with you! Sanji, not having any memory of playing any games at all: .... Do you want to see a really cute rat I've been hiding from the crew? 6 y/o kid: YES YES YES Sanji: I'm so lucky you got that from me-

Usopp: Why are you in... The corner of the kitchen... Crying... Are you- Are you okay? Sanji: She called me dad- Usopp: It's been almost five years and I think it's time for you to stop doing this every day-

Sanji: She's so tiny Usopp: Yes, that's what happens when you're a baby Sanji: And she's clinging onto me and she won't let go Usopp: I am starting to think you often forget you're her father- Sanji, crying: I'm her fath- Usopp: Oh my god-

[cowlovely]

people who read fic but don’t write it piss me off soooooo much sometimes

[aropride]

one thing i just do not fucking get is the difference between "regulating emotions" and "suppressing emotions" i cannot get my head around how those are different. like if im sad and then i go "well im not going to be sad anymore" that's "dissociating" and "suppressing healthy emotions" but if im sad and im like "well im going to cry until i actually pass out" that's "not healthy" and it's BAD to suppress emotions but it's ALSO BAD to get super upset so WHAT IS THE SECRET THIRD THING cuz i do not fucking get it. "feel your feelings But not that way that's not healthy feel your feelings but less than that" ???????

[rowanswriting]

ROOOOWWWWWWW

REQUESTS ARE OPEN YOU SAY???

Self indulgent because I’m that bitch.

Maybe shy/ditsy reader (cause I love her) who is like so innocent and quiet out in public and in private is the neediest horniest depraved little slut for her man (obvs can be gender neutral) with either Steve or Eddie, or steddie x reader whatever your heart desires.

I HOPE THIS ISNT A SHIT REQUEST ITS TWO AM AND IM TIRED

- hellfiremunsonn (Lillie) 🩷

Freak Like Me - E.M.

thank you so much for the request lovey! I hope this is everything you envisioned! @hellfiremunsonn ily! 🫶🏽

Word count- 1.3K

Warnings - pussy slapping, dirty talk, p in v sex, female masturbation (Eddie helps), Eddie teases you, if I miss something please tell me and I’ll be sure to add it here!

-feel free to reblog & interact it’s much appreciated thank you all for reading! I really hope you enjoy this! 18+ only!

“Where you going sugar?” Eddie’s husky voice says from behind you. One of his ringed hands coming up to grip on your shoulder. You feel your knees go weak, trying your best to remain standing as you look around at all his friends. They’re all watching you as you turn to look at Eddie. “Back to the van… if that’s okay, Sir.” You mumble out. A few of his friends chuckle as you hide your face, flushing from embarrassment. He nods, leaning forward and kissing your cheek softly before handing you the keys. “It’s all yours baby be there soon.” You listened as Eddie continued talking about some dnd campaign, the sound of his voice drowning out behind you.

He’d made a spectacle of you all night long, teasing you in front of everyone. He knew exactly what it did to you, you’d almost not agreed to come out tonight because you knew this would happen. Eddie loves teasing you, and his friends love it even more, watching you babble when he asks you a question because only a minute before he had said something incredibly dirty. The wide smirk on his face causes you to stutter as you squeeze your legs together, praying that no one will be able to see. They do. This time you decide not to stick around to hear the remarks they’d make.

You slowly open the door to his van, hopping up inside and slamming yourself back onto his seat. The uncomfortableness of your panties sticking to you is too much to handle, so you lift your hips, sliding them down your legs before throwing them in the back seat. All you can think of when you slip your fingers down to flip up your skirt is Eddie’s voice, the way he mocks you, laughs at you, the sweet nothings he’ll whisper to you once he has you all to himself. “Fuck.” You whimper out, your fingers lightly grazing against your clit.

You shuffle around a bit angling yourself so when Eddie opens the door he’ll have a perfect view of what belongs to him. To his friends, you’re shy and reserved, innocent even. Eddie knew the real truth about you and you were none of those things. Your eyes close as you get lost in the moment, you bite your lip hard enough that you’re sure it’ll bleed as you circle your fingers around your clit, the sensations running throughout your body as you moan quietly. “Please Eddie.” You cry out, sliding down against the passenger door.

“Well ain’t this a pretty picture.” Your eyes snap back open as a sick smile breaks out across your face. “Knew you wouldn’t keep me waiting long.” You say, giggling as Eddie climbs up into the drivers seat. He’s quick with the door, slamming it before turning to look back at you. Your fingers are still working over yourself, only going faster now that he’s watching. You go to stop but he grabs your wrist, guiding your hand down. “Oh please honey, don’t stop because of me. Let me see how desperate you are.”

You nod, your eyes half open from the pleasure as Eddie pushes two of your own fingers inside yourself. You groan at the feeling, it’s messy but you couldn’t love it more. The sounds of wet squelching and your moans fill up the van as Eddie’s eyes burn with lust. They’re latched onto where the both of you are moving together. “This is so good, but I really need you Ed’s please.” You beg. He shakes his head, holding your hand down, rocking your fingers in and out slowly. “I didn’t say you could stop babydoll.” He whispers as you buck your hips up, grabbing at his wrist with the hand that isn’t buried deep inside you.

Eddie leans back, sitting on his knees as he watches you. He pulls his hand away slowly and makes you do all the work as he palms himself lazily over his pants. “I wish they could see you now baby, absolutely pathetic and I haven’t even given you the real thing yet.” He says, your eyes threatening to roll back into your head as a loud moan rips its way from your throat. “Fuck. Please.” You whine, your heartbeat speeding up as the tight cord winding itself in your stomach threatens to break. A bead of sweat makes its way down the side of your face as you buck your hips up again, meeting the thrusts of your own fingers.

You sit up a little, your body trembling as you watch Eddie slowly unbuckle his belt. You trail your eyes up to his face where he’s biting his lip, his eyes staring into yours as you continue to pleasure yourself. He laughs a little when he sees tears on the corners of your eyes. “Aww darlin’ you’re so ready aren’t you? Go ahead, let me see you cum, give me a show baby.” It takes you no more than a small thrust of your fingers before you’re letting go. Your wetness spreads all over yourself and down onto Eddie’s seat as he watches. You can hear him talking you through it but the blood rushing behind your ears keeps you from hearing what he’s actually saying.

He gives you no time to recover, you hear something rush past you into the back of the van before Eddie’s on you like a wild animal. He slowly strokes himself a few times, rubbing the head of his cock right against your clit as you squirm underneath him crying and begging for him to fuck you already. He stops teasing only to reach down and slap your pussy, once, twice, three times. You yelp and just as you go to sit up to scold him he thrusts into you, practically knocking the wind out of your lungs. “Y’gonna scream for me sugar? Let all my friends hear how much of a slut you really are for me?”

“F-uckkk Eddie please!” You scream out, the slapping of Eddie’s skin against yours growing louder as he thrusts harder than before. He reaches under your ass to pull you up some, angling you just right so with every thrust his cock rubs up against your g-spot. “That’s it sugar, it’s okay I got you, let go. Cum on this dick and let everyone hear who makes you feel this good.” Your body trembles beneath him, your stomach flips at his dirty words as you look down and watch him sliding in and out of you. The drag of his cock, enough to make you feel like you’re on another planet entirely as you finally give up. Your eyes roll back as your mouth babbles on, Eddie grips onto your hips, his blunt nails digging into your skin as you feel his cock twitch inside of you. His deep moans blend with yours creating a delicious melody as he fills you up.

You hear him laugh as you both come down from your high, he slowly pulls out of you leaving you empty and sore as you open your eyes to look up at him. “What’s so funny?” You say, your voice rough from how loud you were being, he smiles at you before leaning down to kiss your forehead, moving some of the hair that’s stuck to it away. “Oh, s’nothin. Just thinking how funny it is that you’re a freak, and they have no idea.” You bite your lip before giggling, slapping his arm slightly as you sit up to fix your clothes. You don’t bother with finding your panties as you watch Eddie reach into the back of the van, grabbing his pants. “Well, next time maybe we’ll have to give them a real show, Eddie.” You whisper, running your tongue up the side of his ear, his cock throbs at your words, a low moan slipping from his lips.

tag list- @voyeurmunson @vecslut @littlexdeaths @xxbimbobunnyxx @josephquinnsfreckles

[cherryredstars]

Ok so i have this fic idea where reader and mig are from different universes and reader is a scientist and one time mig and her get drunk and start talking about the multiverse and suddenly they are on the topic of what would happen if people from different universes had a baby together. (You see where i am going with this...) they end up drunkenly fucking and saying it's for "research" because they can't admit to themselves that they are in love. If this request is too complicated feel free to ignore. Thank you in advance cherry!! I hope u have a marvelous new year!! 💕

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Mentions of Oral Sex, Mentions of Animal Testing (for science), Breeding Kink

A/N: Thank you, love! I hope you're well!!!

You know there is a process.

And you know this isn't it.

There are supposed to be hypotheses and written out procedures. Dependent and independent variables, a control group. Fucking hell, you should be experimenting on fucking mice. You should be limiting the margins of error, should be going with the most direct, straightforward pursuit for results.

And yet...

You don't stop Miguel when he pushes you back onto the couch. You don't pause or even really think when he's pushing your pants down your legs, placing kisses along the skin as he goes. You lift your hips to aid him when his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, shivering when his warm breath fans over your exposed sex. If this experiment was in any sense proper, you would get straight into it. Cut out all the unneeded steps. But you can't help but pull his head closer to your aching core, craving the way his warm tongue laps at you. If you weren't already drunk, you would be drunk on this feeling alone.

But god, nothing has even been more satisfying than doing the work. You know the data would be void in a real experiment. The trials bleeding into each other hardly make for adequate data, but the way you beg him for more is involuntary. It feels too good, to have him desperately thrusting into you. It makes your mind numb, and everything you know about your life's passion is erased. The only thing that fills your head is the words Miguel grunts into you ears, promises of fucking a baby into you. Vows to make you bloated with load after load of his cum. That all it'll take is one of his orgasms to make it happen.

You guess that is a hypothesis in itself: Miguel O'Hara can get you pregnant with just one orgasm.

Too bad he's too desperate to find out if that hypothesis is correct. Because he doesn't stop at one. No, he keeps going. One after the other with no breaks in-between. But you guess that's to be expected, he is a man of science himself. A passionate one at that.

He's almost crazed in the way he overstimulates himself. Sweat beading in his hairline as he grunts down at you, watching the way he creamy cock slides in and out of your abused pussy. You've lost count of how many times you've come alone, but you know based on the way your body shivers and jolts that it's far more than you've ever had before. It's almost painful now, the way your next orgasm rips through you and shatters your soul again. You let out strangled breaths as you fight through the aftershocks and the continued pleasure of Miguel's cock slamming against your cervix. You swear you black out before he finally stops, your eyes and mind groggy as he pulls your hips flush against his as he spills into you.

You can feel him trying to push deeper into you as he pants ruggedly, his cock twitching against your walls until he's milked dry. Even when he's done filling you, he stays connected. He collapses onto you, breathing in the linger smell of sweat and sex on your skin.

"Got to make sure it takes."

Well, does the process really matter if you get the desired result anyway?

Part 2

[capslocked]

HONNE, TATAMAE & THE OTHER ONE

male reader x shin yuna

9k words

Yuna shuffles into your office with the same sneaky smile, the same easy slouch, and she settles into one of the chairs across the table. There is, apparently, more to talk about.

It's a matter of image, of perception, is what she knows. 

You know every good lie starts with the truth.

So you swallow. You pause. Some other part of you understands Yuna can't ignore who she really is, and you’re not sure you can either.

-

Look - Shin Yuna is the kind of woman that turns heads, even with the best of intentions. A long, lithe silhouette; an easy, rosy sort of youthfulness clinging to the swell of her cheekbones, the curve of her waist. Take a dress that's cut to show a little thigh, or a hairstyle pushed back on one side - earrings, or heels, or just the subtle swipe of red over her lip - it doesn't take much for men (or anyone else) to figure that out. A girl who, more times than not, really ought to have a boy's hand planted on her ass, in possession.

So the opportunity to capture such a form perfected - all toned and graceful and flush for curves, her legs never seeming to end, the slithering fit of the dresses - these were the things they wanted. Package it, put a logo on it - better yet, a ribbon or a bow - and ship it straight to the consumer.

Somebody everyone wants, somebody no one can ever have.

“So,” Yuna asks from the other side of your desk, lips slanting halfway coy. “Are you going to treat me like an adult?"

Her fingers play idly with the hem of her skirt, and she lets a long, slender leg slowly slide out from beneath her.

“In what way,” you answer, half paying attention.

"The photos." She doesn't have the slightest qualms about lifting it higher. The soft creak of leather, and a deepening smile. "Am I not allowed to be a little racy?"

"That's certainly... one way of looking at it."

You glance away from where her stockings wrap around the soft curve of her thighs to flip back through the photos in your lap, one after the other, each a little different from the last. The beach, the sun, a flimsy white slip of a bikini top that hides exactly nothing, her muscles wet and glistening and perfect. Beyond suggestive, it's considerably inappropriate.

But then to a lot of people, Yuna is a lot of things. 

She’s more clever than anyone gives her credit for. And she’s fucking gorgeous, sure. That’s definitely not up for debate, but god is she young - she's barely twenty. And here’s some rather uninteresting food for thought: you couldn't even technically take her for a drink without faking an ID or breaking some law or another, like a real one. So go ahead, chew that down. Girls her age are typically studying, or working a retail job and getting wasted on the weekends. And they aren't typically making six, seven figures turning their head to the camera and asking how much more skin?

You have some thoughts.

Prudently, you’re her publicist, and it’s your job to make sure that the public gets a good look at her and sees exactly what you want them to see. It's unfair. She wields sex like a weapon. She's got the face, the body; it's an easy sell, commodified and commercialized down to the finest detail, the softest curve, the slightest arch of her brow. The idea's to not let anyone look too long, should they catch something you haven't approved yet, or the fact that she's quite possibly a real person with a real life and real feelings, which could easily fuck up her brand, so unfortunately, that's a bit of a no-go.

Sign of the times maybe, no ethical consumption under another something, yadda yadda - it's a shitty business, really, and the whole thing usually leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

(And just to be upfront, as an important disclosure: you are fucking her brains out on the side, which is a different kind of ethical dilemma, with a different kind of flavor to it. 

You’re supposed to be something of a role model - and she’s gone and fucked up bad by falling for you. From her perspective, it probably makes sense. Girl gets boy, bespoke song, credits roll and it's fine. No sin to atone, no 'after'. 

It was supposed to be a one time thing. It’s metastasizing into something you’re not even going to attempt to put into words. It’s a lawsuit waiting to happen, you know that. And you know the girl has daddy issues, but then you've never had a problem whatsoever playing into it. The possessiveness, the control - she gets off on it. You're pretty sure that she'd do just about anything if you asked her, and you'll admit that the thought alone makes your stomach stir, your mouth run dry.)

Yuna taps her knuckles on the wood of your desk. “What’s the verdict?” 

"Well, professionally," you say, caveat in hand, and you give the photos one last flip through. "I'd say they're fine.”

"Oh?" Yuna cocks her head to the side. Her long, blonde hair curtains over her shoulder, and the smile that shadows in at the corner of her mouth is almost wicked. She leans forward, chin propped on a palm, and you see that her expression is bright, glittering with interest. "And unprofessionally?"

Sure. It's a fair question.

Though she's wearing her stage face, the one that looks all big eyes and doe lashes, a hint of a pout on her plush bottom lip, and she's staring at you expectantly, the way she might look at a man she's just asked for the time.

You've seen her look a million other ways. You've seen her with her knees spread, her cheeks flushed, on all fours, straddling your lap, face pressed into the sliding glass door of your shower, her eyes screwed shut as she chokes out your name. And god, doesn’t she look good in all of them.

Your fingers tap against the photos.

“Unprofessionally," you tell her, and the smile on your face is tight - unknowable. "I think they’re a little… gaudy."

Yuna frowns, and it's just a flash before her expression is carefully blank again, the stage face back in full swing. She's been doing this since she was a teenager, so the mask is impeccable, but you know her, and you know that she's thinking: about the photo shoot, the way the photographer was looking at her, and the way you had looked at her later, too.

She knows what you've seen. She's wondering if that's why.

"Really," she asks, a note of disappointment in her voice.

"Really," you confirm with a small sigh, though you're still smiling. It's a small, private sort of smile, like you're remembering a joke. You don't miss the way she glances down at your mouth either. "Let me be clear, you have a shot at real success. I mean, you have a chance at a career. A real, sustainable career.”

She's sitting there with her legs crossed, her foot tapping restlessly, and when she's silent for a moment too long, the way her eyes narrow just a smidge, her head tipped slightly, you realize how it sounds. Patronizing.

"Look," you amend. You're not the best at apologies, but you try. "I just mean - I think that you could be doing something that you actually enjoy."

"Who says I don't enjoy this," she says, and there's a bite in her tone, a challenge. She's leaning back in her seat now, arms crossed.

"What, taking your clothes off for the camera?" You laugh, a quick bark. Isn’t that a cruel question, and you can see it in the way her eyes flash. "You could do a lot more than that, I'm just saying."

"Right," she says, and she doesn't blink, doesn't even move. Her gaze is fixed, unwavering. "Because I'm not pretty enough."

You open your mouth. Close it.

It's not a question. It's a statement.

"That's not what I'm saying-"

"Do you know what makes me different from the IT-girl-of-the-month? The Jang Wonyoungs, the Bae Irenes, the Kim Jisoos of the world?" Yuna cuts in.

"Yuna, this isn't-"

"You should know. " She laughs. "It's your job, knowing things, isn't it?"

The silence stretches thin between you. She's not wrong. There’s the quintessential beauty, the timeless classic, the fantasy-wrapped-up-as-a-daydream - oh, it's all sexual, but the product there is palatable (read: marketable). An idea the general public wants to take home to their mother, not take to bed. A beauty so docile and innocent, you feel guilty harboring those untoward thoughts it makes you have.

Yuna is somewhere possibly, someway probably the opposite. You’ve sold her as such, as fantasy in sheep's clothing. She's neither afraid to put the images to words, nor speak her desires aloud. It's her own brand of sensuality, and it's what the public wants - has always truly wanted, since the dawn of man and of popstars fucking their publicists - what the public wants but turns itself in knots just to pretend they don't. The only way it’ll end up in anyones’ parents' home is under the guise that it will be smuggled upstairs and held down into the springs of a mattress. Hand over her mouth, or maybe around her throat, just so she'll shut up.

She's not a nice girl, or the girl-next-door, a bride-in-a-box, but you'd known that before. The line between fact and fiction is fine indeed.

"You're different," you tell her, finally.

"When I first came in here, you had no qualms, no issue to raise, and now all of a sudden, everything is too much," she says, and she's not smiling, her tone flat. "If it was a problem from the jump, you would've said so."

“I just think a little subtlety would be a nice change of pace. It could go a long way, I mean, I could show you the data- "

"So you're going soft on me, is that it?"

You blink, and the realization hits.

"Just where was this noble version of you when we first started out? You had no problem then, remember? Put a sixteen-year-old in front of a camera, in this industry, and all of a sudden-"

"Don't."

“And suddenly it's all 'oh no, that's a little too much, we need to dial it back'." She sighs, a single sharp burst. "Why is that? Is it because you think that now you own me? I fuck you, swallow your cum and call you daddy, and now these are your decisions? Is that it?"

She’s standing now, her chair shoved back so fast it nearly clatters to the floor. There's a storm on her face, almost a rage. This now become a familiar story. The one where the girl's too pretty for her own good. Too much, too soon.

"I'm not a child," she tells you, her tone measured, a sharp contrast to the fire in her eyes. "I know what I want. I know how to get it. You're not telling me anything I don't already know. I'm different. You're right."

She's different, but the girl's clever, too. And she's stubborn. It's a dangerous combination.

You breathe slow. "Then why don’t you act like it."

“If they’re going to call me a slut,” she hisses, and she's walking forward. Her palms land on your desk, hard, and you glance down at her clenched fists, at her neatly kept nails, "you know, after we leak them all those steamy photos online-"

Your mind clicks. You reach to slam the cover of the photo book shut. She's caught your hand, though, in hers, holding it firmly to the desk.

Yuna glances at the photos over again, at the tight fit of the swimwear, or how the ties slip in an invisible breeze. And she's biting her lip, trying not to smile, you can tell. "You know it might be worth it for once," she says, slipping a finger between the buttons of her shirt.

There's a long, tense moment, and before you can register it, Yuna has rounded your desk; she’s closing the distance, fast. 

And she’s lowering her eyes. Putting her lips on yours.

It knocks the wind from your sail, for just the instant. You're speechless.

Because her fingers. Her mouth. Her hair. Yuna's everywhere, and she's warm. It's utterly selfish, you understand: you want her to be yours. You want her to be yours and no one else's.

She’s realizing she might be.

You feel her grabbing for more of you. Wanting. She tilts her head, her breath hot, and you kiss her back, her mouth slick against your own, and the kiss is a fast, deliberate kind of messy. Your teeth catch her bottom lip, and her tongue slips past yours, licking into your mouth, her hands clutching at the collar of your shirt. It's not like it is when you're fucking, which is slow and hot, and she's on her back, legs around your waist, her nails biting into your skin, or when she's bent over the arm of the sofa, her ass in the air and her back arched, her breathless moans a chorus of yes, yes, please. This kiss is more battle, more heat, less gentle and less finesse. It's the kind of kiss that's just short of an argument.

"You're an asshole," she breathes into your mouth, and it's not a compliment.

You smile against her.

"So are you," you murmur, and her lips are parted, her eyelids fluttering shut, her breath coming quick and hot.

"Then maybe you should just fuck me," she says. She's not asking. “Yeah.” You press your words right into her neck, her collarbone. “Maybe I should.”

Your hands are on her hips faster than you can realize what it is they’re doing, palms pressing into her, and then you're walking her backwards, shuffling a few steps until the small of her back collides with the edge of your desk, and you're lifting her up onto the surface, the photographs falling to the floor, scattering.

"I thought we weren't supposed to do this here," she murmurs, pulling away for just a moment, her mouth swollen and wet, her eyes dark. She knows exactly what it does to you: the goading, the taunting - the looks of faux-innocence later over a bare shoulder, her ass in the air. How it can get you to fuck her within an inch of her life. What it’ll get her, the return on investment.

"And I thought we agreed to longer skirts."

Her thighs are smooth, silky, and they part, the lace of her underwear stark against her skin. You slide a hand beneath the elastic band, sinking down, and down, until she inhales sharply.

"The fuck do you end up doing going up the stairs?" you add, and your fingers are tracing the swell of her hip, and you can feel the goosebumps on her skin.

She bites her lip. You sink down to press a kiss to her thigh, and then the other.

"Nothing," she tells you, and her eyes are wide. "I guess it all just hangs out."

She simply smirks right back into you, throws her arms over your shoulders. You’re snared, caught - she’ll always be able to fuck what she wants right out of you.

"Jesus, Yuna." Your hand curls around her wrist, thumb pressed to her pulse, and her shoulders roll back.

You push her down, and she's sprawled across the desk, legs stretching wide, her head tilted back and her chest heaving. “God, you’re so fucking wet, and I've barely touched you. That turns you on? Being a brat?"

She sucks air past her teeth, and you can measure each rise and fall of her chest. The lace under her hips is soaked, her pussy swollen and pink. Like if she doesn’t get your hot, open mouth on her clit this instant, you’re both going to have a problem.

You slip two fingers into her instead, and Yuna keens.

"I know it does," you say, and your voice comes out lower, drier than you expect. She's hot, so wet around you, her pussy fluttering. "It fucking turns me on, too."

"Please," and “god,” is what all you receive back in half whispers, while her legs are spread, her heels now really dug into the square of your back, and she's got a fistful of your hair like she owns it. Her voice is high, her eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t be such a fucking tease."

You're not going to make it easy. She's not going to make this quick.

"What, and you aren’t?"

You curl your fingers inside her, and the noise that leaves her is positively obscene. She's grinding against your palm, her hips bucking, and her lips are parted, her eyelashes dark and thick, fanning her cheeks. She's panting, her thighs trembling.

"No," she breathes. If she’s shaking her head, you can’t tell. "I'm exactly what you tell them I am."

Your hand stills, and it takes a moment for her to realize that the pressure inside her is gone. Her eyes snap open, her mouth twisted.

"Fuck you," she spits. "Put them back."

You're already sinking down to your knees, and you've got her skirt shoved up, the lace panties pulled aside, her hips canted, her pussy glistening. The stockings can stay, fuck, the heels, too. She's so fucking hot, her legs spread apart and her lips red. Her palm shoved into her brow, and her breath just barely more than a ragged huff of air. You can feel her body wound tight and ready, her eyes on the ceiling.

You put your tongue against her, flat and slow. Inaccurate, indiscriminate, licking up her wet cunt. And her whole body arches off the desk, a cry leaving her mouth with her head thrown back. Her thighs are shaking, and her heel presses into your shoulder, and god, she tastes incredible.

"Please." It comes like music, really, a song of desperation. You can hear it. She's singing it for you now. "Oh god, please, fuck-"

So you do her one better. You put your whole mouth over her, and she fucking shivers. You don’t even try to ease into it - you're devouring, ravishing her, working your lips and tongue all over her pussy, lapping the length of her in broad, hot strokes, and she's almost shrieking, her body going taut. You suck on her lips, pressing your tongue into her clit, and when you pull off her, your hand takes over the place where your tongue can't quite reach, her wetness slick around your fingers. Yuna's close - you can see that she is, you can hear that she is, and it's her gasp that lets you know.

"I'm -" she says, her voice reaching higher, her nails digging into the flesh of your shoulders, the wood of your desk. The sound she makes is wretched and beautiful. "God, I'm cumming, I'm cumming - fuck!"

The licking, the lapping, the fucking fingering. You can feel her slicked cunt pulse and throb in a satisfied, anticipatory kind of way. Even if she wasn’t audibly wet around your knuckles, you’d read Yuna like a map.

Your thumb taps across her clit, once - twice, thrice, and it’s just that.

She arches off your desk, thighs trembling as your tongue works her over, This hard, hungry kiss, and she tastes as sweet as she looks - as filthy as she acts, too. Her pussy is slick, her hips rolling, her body trembling, and she's making soft, little ah, ah, ah, sounds into the wet seal of your mouth. She's trying to keep it quiet, because she knows as well as you, everyone in the damn office does, probably - it's one thing to play at being a slut. A complete other to really fuck like one.

Your finger slips in and out of her pussy, and then another. They fill her up. The knuckles bending and pushing deeper. Yuna's fucking ruined - your desk is ruined.

But then there you are, complicit, and perhaps a little evil: licking and licking and licking right into her, making her grip twist in your hair and her thighs clench around your face. You can feel it in how her breathing is coming fast, faster, her whole body growing taut, and it was never going to take long, you figure, the way her hips were rolling the moment you got your hands on her. You can tell. She's close, and she's so pretty, all flushed and writhing, her skirt hiked up, her ass perched on the edge of your desk, and when her mouth falls open and her breath catches in her throat, you pull yourself up to watch her, the heel of your hand pressed against her clit, and she's shaking.

"Look at me,” you tell her, a kiss trailing unsatisfyingly into the crease of her thigh, your voice running coarse.

She does, her gaze glassy, and the sound that leaves her mouth is a sob. That’s all it really takes.

“Show me. What face you make when you cum on my fingers sweetheart, show me what a slut you actually are-"

You can watch it all in real time, the panting, the heaving. The sculpted lines of her pretty face screw up, real tight, and she lets out another moan, breathier this time, her mouth hanging open. She does it again when you press down. And Yuna fucking shakes, her hands balled, white-knuckling, and the desk rattling beneath her.

It's all a matter of slight degradation, you’ve learned, the barest humiliation. Like the paradoxical freedom she knows she can find in a hand clenched tight around her throat or her hair pulled and twisted into a fist or the sharp sting of a smack across her ass. Her pretty face. She likes a little something that burns. Something sinewy, visceral, raw: you call her a whore, a filthy fucking cumslut and it makes her body curl like she has hot metal pressing into her skin. Makes her breathless, like she wants you to own her.

Sometimes it's better than being fucked.

(Sometimes.)

Because just look at her: she’s in the middle of coming apart, mouth fallen slack, brow furrowed - and she gets real quiet when she cums, the absolute opposite of the journey she’d taken to get there, all those loud little, uh-uh-ah, fucking please god, her moans, her whimpers - her orgasm ripping right through the middle of her, the hourglass of her entire body stiffening on borrowed time as it washes across her features.

You let out a loud sigh, something she can moor herself to that isn’t your fingers, the desk, or your hair at the roots. Yuna can be every bit as uncomplicated as she can be complex, but god, you love her most like this: an unrehearsed, beautiful mess.

"Baby," you tell her, because it's easier to just call her that, and because you don't know how else to end the statement, because you know if you ask, she'll let you - hell, she'll beg for more, and that’s got your brain feeling rather mushily incoherent at present.

"Daddy," she responds - because of course she fucking does; she’s gasping, and her cheeks are still so pink, her body sated, and your heart leaps into your throat. 

It's a problem; you've been trying to work it out for a good few months now, and by this, you mean the little moment you have right after you're done, where your eyes meet, and you smile at her. A problem, too, her lips. A problem, because she kisses you, soft, and slow, and easy. A problem, because her heart's probably already yours.

If anyone were to ask, you would have said there's no greater pleasure than knowing a girl that's almost died to take your cock, but maybe that's the point: it's just supposed to feel a bit better if you're a little head over heels, a little stupid about it too.

"I'm going to use this perfect pussy now," you warn her - just simple formality - because you're already rolling her down onto her back, your cock hard and aching against your trousers.

You've got your hands on her stockings, tugging them down to her ankles, the lace of her panties around her thighs, the neat garter of her garter belt wrapped around her hips, her cunt bare beneath it. You unzip, too slow. You tug yourself out.

“I’ll be good,” she says to you, a promise.

“Yeah,” you return to her, “I know.”

And you slip your cock into her cunt, just barely - maybe an inch, maybe more - and you hear a little noise leave her throat, low. Broken. 

“Fuck,” she murmurs, and god, you just can't help it, it's easy; you sink deeper, nice, slow, everything smooth inside her, until another broken sort of gasp spills off her lips. 

And then another: "oh my fucking god."

You snap your hips back in, bottoming out this time in the wet heat of her perfect cunt, and she just fucking collapses. Yuna looks like an absolute dream in this state of half-dress, half-distress: black suede around the ankles, stilettos, with just the perfect heel. There are worse things, you can imagine, and she looks perfect sprawled out against your notes and portfolios, all this hot, aching want. As gorgeous as she is fucked. You tear into her stockings, a little. You’ll tear more. 

You already know you're going to hell. Or at least that’s where you should already be, but you hips crash into hers again, fucking her legs wider apart, spreading her open across your desk for you, getting her slick all over the photos, her career - it’s all so perfectly unfair.

"You have no idea, the things I want to do to you right now," you breathe, your tone hushed, and you're talking again, like you often do. There goes your mouth - but your hips drag back, and then again, her pussy clenching, vice tight and impossibly wet.

It's a long, torturous, lazy sort of a pull, that draws these pretty thin moans from the very center of her.

And the way that feels, your cock buried deep in her cunt: better than good - heaven, if you care enough about labels for it, or the names of things. You haven’t any real way to tell; the gates haven't opened or anything, so all you're working from here is an educated guess. From the fact that Yuna’s eyes have slid closed, her lips parted, and her whole body starting now to tremble gently with it.

"Jesus, this perfect, tight pussy grips me so good, god - such a good girl, always so fucking wet for me," and your mouth is pressed to the arch of her ear, whispering every last thing you know will make her cum again, like a dream.

And she is, she does.

She's twisting up to grip at your hips, her head falling to one side. When you drag your cock through her cunt, slowly, you watch her lips purse and the way the flush moves all the way down the column of her neck, past her collarbone, her shirt half undone and her tits heaving against the white, sheer fabric. You fuck her for a little, and then you roll your hips slow, so slow. 

Until your pace is fucking punishing, deep, and so hard. You can’t help it.

Because it's unbelievable - she's so perfect, so tight around you. Fit snug like a glove, like she was made to take your cock, to whimper and mewl at your mercy. Her lips part further and she keens, her brows twisting in similar disbelief as you pound your length into her. The heat pooled in your belly, the way she looks under your desk: fuck, she's so beautiful like this, properly fucked. 

You'd let her ruin you for life - it's that simple.

"Yuna, you - fuck," you barely say, and you sound more than slightly stunned, so she’s filling in the gaps, elaborating in the spaces you cannot - that she loves it, that you’re so good for her, and so is that, and that, and that - the way it hits, right there, keep fucking her just like that, because right there, right there, right there, right there - the way she props herself up on her elbows to tell you, "you're fucking me so deep, oh my god - yes, oh my god, fuck."

By the time Yuna shudders through another orgasm, a silent ghost of a wail leaving her pretty frozen mouth, her lashes are batting against her cheeks, and she's biting her lip, so hard you're certain she's going to break the skin, her back strung like a bow. It's the look on her face, that soft sort of reverence, and how her lips are swollen and spit-slick, the pretty hollow of her throat. Your thrusts become faster, shorter - your own moan thick in your throat, your jaw hanging slack.

“Here,” you say, and she’s just putty between your fingers, on your cock.

You’re flipping her around, onto a different angle. You know she likes it, the way her tits are pressed against your desk, and it's hot the way her ass tilts right into your hips, arched. Proffering. "Be good for me, and spread yourself open."

She's already so meek when she complies. "Anything, sir. Stretch me out; I want you to make me yours."

God, she's practically purring when she talks like this. She knows exactly what that fucking does to you. Knows that when her eyes draw back, big and watery and full, you're a goner - if your cock wasn't deep in her pussy, fucking her open and raw, the view would nearly be enough. And all of this, the pretense, the pantomime, she knows how to bend the line of your body to her own, because when she turns, and presses her red mouth to the crest of her shoulder, you are hers.

You could probably cum, right now, deep down into the molten hot of her cunt: if your hips keep up their ruthless pace, if her ass was sticking up the slightest bit more - the sound that would come from her.

"Take that perfect cock - and fuck my pussy up," Yuna mewls, her voice saccharine and slurring, a touch whiny. She rolls her hips. Your cock grinds, still, though it stutters now - shallow and quick.

"All this pussy, for daddy's cock," and you're sure that the entire office can hear her now, the moans that escape from her mouth - but you can't even find it in you to care. You're caught, all of her a net you've willingly been ensnared by, and here you figure that's the slightest bit appropriate; you're so fucked, and it's funny, too. Funny enough to laugh about, later. "Nobody fucks this tight little pussy the way you do, sir."

It's a smile she hears in your voice when you say, "is that right? Go on then, let’s hear all the things you'd have me do to your slutty little cunt."

The line's crossed again, in some indecipherable direction. Where, again, exactly, does it matter? There are lines and lines, and none of them quite mark the beginning, the end, the periphery. This time you don't pull back; you dig deep, and it makes Yuna cry out like you’re killing her. Which, in a way - you already have.

So your hips stutter forward again, once more, and you lean into the slant, so fucking deep it's practically impaled. There’s nothing quite like holding this girl’s hips and pounding her from behind. Her pussy alone is fucking incredible. And the sound her ass makes against the flat of your stomach, the crease of your thighs - it's unimaginable, the way Yuna makes these little squeaks of a noise, like half-broken moans, when you fuck deep, deep, deeper into her. The way her arms splay wide and search frantic across your desk. And as you grab her slim, dainty wrist, pin it back and pull her tight - fixing her upright until you have her head lolling back against your chest - you simply fucking pound away.

Fucking all these little curses and sounds of appreciation out of her throat. Your cock forcing out each syllable, "yes," and "fuck," and "god, oh my fucking god - I cannot believe," now on repeat, how her tone grows tighter. How she moans - a lot, like something's being worked loose.

"Uh-uh," and you're holding her steady now, with one broad, strong hand at the back of her neck. "Keep telling me, and maybe I'll let you cum."

Your free hand finds purchase in her hair. Yuna's groan coming out pathetic and wanting, her mouth half open. You wrap her silky golden locks around your fist, her hair thread neatly through your fingers, and then give the slightest of yanks.

Christ, her pussy just fucking soaks onto you. Greedy. Needy.

"Shit," and Yuna gasps when she can, where she's allowed to.

"Oh, is my little girl into getting her hair pulled?" and you can see the signs of affirmation: the muscles inside her flexing, grasping you as you roll in, a small, soft nod, and the way she sighs your name, like a prayer on her lips.

Listen, she can barely speak, the way you're fucking her apart. Yuna's body is wound like a bow, like string and taught wire. Bent into the side of the desk and open for you, her pussy pulsing tight around you with every stroke.

"Sir, I'll do - whatever you need, just - just - let me have your cum, please -" and there, she's begging now, and her voice is tinny, breaking, breathless and airless.

Then it’s her fucking hair. You pull so much on it harder this time, with another measured thrust inside her, your body flush against her ass. Fingerprints searing down onto where her hips flare and taper, impossibly narrow.

You’re probably hurting her. You’re probably ruining her for anyone else - nothing will ever satiate her more than the way she sobs as your fingers twist tighter through her hair. Around her fucking miracle of a waist. It's an obscene sound that echoes down to your cock, as deep, hot and fucking filthy as her cries when she cums for the third, fourth?

"Just," Yuna barely makes, her eyelids heavy, her gaze flitting somewhere behind her. "Just look at you, fucking me so hard, filling up my tight little pussy, making me take everything your cock has to give. God, you love wrecking my perfect little hole, don't you?"

No, or yes, or probably. You’ll figure out the details later.

"God, I love it when you get real messy, when I get you like this-" your words run seamlessly into the searing heat between your bodies, like punctuation, like the end of days -

"Use me." She doesn't just say it. "Take me, and cum in me, wherever you want. Daddy, you can have my mouth, or, or, you can - you can finish inside me."

And god, you could, you really could: just the timbre of her voice does things to you, the way that it curls around the words daddy, and sir, and you're fucking me so goddamn good. She's saying them now, her whimpers breaking into outright moans and all: shit, please, please - you're gonna make me cum - oh - oh fuck! And when she's wound that tight, a quivering, sopping mess of a girl, you put your fingers against her clit, circling and pressing in tempo to the thrust of your cock.

The cruel metronome that makes. Hell, it fucking sends her.

She’s begging you to finish inside her. It's fucked up - and she knows it. She wraps her heels around the square of your back, and the tension rises, and rises, the coiled spring tight and waiting - just a push away, so you slam into her once, then twice more, the push of a hand splayed between her tits and your fingers digging into the muscle of her thigh. She wants you to cum in her pussy, fill her right up; she tells you that, again, that she wants it, and her voice is raspy, high. That she wants you now, as if she didn't before, and how does this compare, because she needs it now.

You hold out for just a little. You’re holding your breath. Just a little, just until Yuna’s eyelashes flutter open over her shoulder and she says your name, so sweetly, and says, "please, just, inside."

You shouldn't.

You can't.

So here, barely able to think at all, you end up doing the unthinkable - thinking all the while of pumping her right to the finish and draining your balls straight into the deepest reach of her cunt, how fucking tempting it may be - you muster an ounce of good judgment still adrift in a sea of lust. Your throbbing cock draws out of that wet, inviting heat and into your fist, and watch how that makes her begin to unspool: the way she tries to press her knees shut. She's sobbing for it, pleading, her lashes dark with tears. "No, no, fuck me, please, I'm begging you. Please, I'm going to be so good - god, please -"

You tug her back, look her in the eye, and let out a loud, shaky exhale. "Knees, princess."

She's too wracked with need to do anything other than comply. Her jaw drops. “But-”

"Mouth," you cut in, sharp enough that her gaze lifts, and you're right there - on the precipice, so close, watching her tongue dart out of her mouth to run across the swell of her bottom lip.

Watching her knees fold into the carpet, her stockings down loose around her thighs, her underwear hanging off an ankle. The rise and fall of her chest like rolling waves, and you can see her hands fisting on her knees, and her face: you watch the emotion flash over, like water on glass, and a moment is all it takes. She leans her face forward to your hand, as you wind her hair into your fist, her lips parted and her gaze lowered. She's obedient, taking the weight of your cock with her pretty pink mouth like the fucked-up-little-fantasy that she is, opening so nice and wide.

Her eyes flit up to yours, her mascara-ringed lashes fanned against the pink of her cheeks.

"My face," she tells you, or something close to it, "fuck my face. Go ahead, use it - cum all over me."

Your cock slides halfway home, her cheeks hollowing, and when it presses to the back of her throat, she gags. You curse and tip your head back, the wood of your desk digging into the flesh of your palm.

"What did you say," you half groan out. "Baby," you add, just for good measure, just to play along, "c'mon."

The tip of Yuna's tongue sweeps and swirls just beneath your cockhead, and she moans her answer around your length, lapping at a leak of precum. "I said," she's repeating now, her cheek brushing across your shaft, and you shudder. "Fuck, what I said was I want you to cum all over my face.

Jesus.

You bury your cock into her mouth once, twice. Let it sit there. Let her really struggle for it, the angle just a tad awkward from above. Let her lips stretch wide, and her shoulders shake a little - tears start to gather, pricking her eyes, her lipstick a mess, the way your cock fits, plugging up her throat so full. You hold her like that for just a second, a little less - until Yuna's moaning, the vibration low in her mouth, and her eyes flutter open, closed.

"Fuck," you spit out, and "perfect," and your voice is shot, your whole face warm, and you're going to cum on her - everywhere on her. Yuna, who’s been staring up at you in wide-eyed submission, gives you a little nod, like she means it.

Like she’s earned it.

And maybe she has: it only takes one last look to seal it - her hand curled around your cock, her cheek matted with her own spit and lipstick, the bright smudge of her own cum from the point of her chin to the cleft of her cupid's bow, and her eyes are locked on yours, eager and hot. Maybe she hasn't - and maybe you should make her beg, fuck her mouth some more - it's almost cruel, how she looks. A perfectly pretty picture, poised and pliant and waiting, and she's right there, beneath you, and fuck - this is so wrong, and you'll ruin her, you'll mark her up like this. She'll be painted like a work of art.

Your pulse thickens. Stands right up in your veins.

Then, your control, snapping: her pretty lashes flutter, her mouth gone slack, her jaw still tilted up like she expects a gift, an offering, her palm wrapped so nice and snug around the base of your cock, her expression dazed, and so easy, and perfect, so eager. You tilt your hips just a fraction further, and she fucking swallows, her tongue tracing the underside where you throb harder, heavier - her body lilting up as you press in so deep.

“God,” you breathe in, out. It hits hard. It hits fast. “Yuna-”

A tensing of your stomach coils up through like smoke, and your grip tightens on the edge of your desk, the other in her hair, a helpless, desperate thrusting, and there - it's a wonderful, brilliant sort of explosion, like light, the white-hot burn of a fever breaking. You cum all over her face and into her hair, spilling out streaks of hot, filthy white onto her sculpted features and the sweet line of her throat, and god, there's so much, she's taking it so easily, all her breathing hot and heavy and loud.

Her skin alabaster and porcelain; cotton and canvas; she lets you fucking paint her, all messy and ruined.

In fact she’s even smiling like she’s holding in a laugh, all gooey-soft with satisfaction, and you're jerking your cock slow through her slender fingers, even after there's nothing else left to give and every inch of her face is marked - the way she wears your cum like new skin. You feel the shockwave tear your nerves open, and then the calm, right on its heels, spreading out from your core to your fingertips, out through the roots of your hair.

"Ah," you exhale, a tight gasp. Yuna takes the entirety of you into her mouth, sucking down your length - harder - as she swallows back a final, sticky load, her own hair sweat-slick to her face.

Just look at the damage: that’s a story not even you’d be able to spin. There's cum on her nose, dribbling past her cheek. On her jaw and on her cheek. Filthy white streaked all over her parted lips, her neck. Down her shoulder blades, and soiling her hair, and leaking down past her collarbones.

(Christ, was this better or worse? You can't even tell. Every version of her that's been served on a plate for you has seen fit to make you sweat.)

When the dust begins to settle, you’re left panting and spent. Yuna, the collateral on this fine, whiny, disaster of a deal. A collection of photos, and some thoughts and ideas, that now sit disheveled on the ground. There's a scathing voice inside your head that's demanding to be heard, reminding you all-too-casually that this is not any way to manage a client. She could snap her fingers, call out to that sycophant at the top floor, and your career would be over - she could do anything she should ever desire.

You know, on a baser level, this, and worse: the duality of the thought. Her tight cunt on your desk, you on your knees; the sharp gasp you can steal from the top of her throat, perhaps when she feels the gentle pressure of teeth around one rosy nipple. The pinch of your thumb and index finger around the other. Her nails down your back in ten angry lines, and the throb in her throat, while you slide the whole width of a hand, rough, over the flesh of her ass.

Maybe the desk, like everything else, can just join the pile on the floor.

"Yuna," you say, the vowels pitching like a sigh.

Her palms find the sharp crease in your pants and slide upward. She's gazing up at you, bright, her face sticky with you.

"You can't send me out like this," she tells you, matter-of-factly, letting a smile cross the lines of her lips - or a smirk. A wordless extension of the previous sentence - of a few.

You pull out and away from her: a white and gray dotted tie hanging loose, unknotted; a button still fastened somewhere mid-center, your trousers pulled off and loose down just below your knees, the fly gaping open. She's in a similar state, the cups of her bra slipping loose, her mouth flushed, lips swollen and red, the outline of how she’d let you use her in a smeary, runny stain across her cheek.

"Maybe let your manager know," you tell her, pulling your belt in place, and you think you catch her eye rolling. "That you're going to be late."

Yuna doesn't hesitate.

"Tell her yourself," she responds, "I'm sure she'll be relieved to hear I'm not actually dead - just having gotten fucked stupid on my PR person's cock."

"I might forget to include a couple details."

"You shouldn’t." Her eyebrows jump. And she's chewing, lazily, on the full curve of her lower lip, her teeth glinting like razors. "Here, before you throw all this to the sharks -"

So, so very dramatic, and with this: her thumbnail pressed beneath your chin. It draws your gaze up - up, and down: from the splay of her legs and the gleam of wetness between them, a brief rest along the arcs of her chest - the room's a total fucking wreck. Your necktie, her skirt, her blouse, her pantyhose. The papers and books all spread, bent, broken, the stack knocked clean onto its side. The skirt's probably still pulled too far up her hips for decency, her breasts shoved up to her neck and the collarbone, and then there's her face - her chin streaked with cum. Yuna smiles then, the corner of her mouth pulled upward.

She might kiss her if you'd let her.

Cum on her lips be damned, she's beautiful like that, like she isn't even trying. And in fact, she never really had to - this girl, she'd do it alone. The idea that someone could be as universally loved as she, is enough, a marvel even, but here she is in front of you, every atom and curve a siren, a study in perfection and composition. Like she’s not just all your mistakes laid out to bear.

"Take a second to take a proper look, hm? Get all the memories in, while they're fresh."

"Because?"

"You can remember I'm only the person you say I am, for you."

"You can remember I'm only who you say I am, for you."

"Oh, of course," and the laugh that leaves your throat sounds dry, cracked open. The band of her skirt stretches, snaps back, so neatly that it leaves a pale line on her flesh. And now there are your hands, fitting around her hipbones, a sigh: a short, sudden motion, tugging her up. Yuna gasps: something surprised, delighted. She's all grins and teeth, all clean, bright incisors. 

"Mine," you're breathing, the flat of her stomach underneath the fingers you've placed upon it. "This is mine - you. Yours - you're all mine."

It’s possessive, but, you’re not all incorrect.

"Yeah," she more than agrees. 

There's a ribbon-taut quality in the way it leaves her mouth, the tension in her body coiled up through to the bones. She makes it sound like the beginning of a promise, the beginning of something much larger.

And by the way." She’s still buttoning her shirt. Putting herself together. You’ve seen the triage, the damage control. This is the Yuna you get. 

So, she needs the second - a respite to lick a stray stripe of slick and cum off her wrist - blotting her cheeks with a ball of wet tissue, until all that's left is the smeared lipstick, her stockings splayed around the floor. The pattern you've worn, where your fingerprints would've shown, gets covered up under her skirt and her coat, wrapped up in a scarf.

The smug satisfaction in her tone pulls your focus, just in time, her hair's falling in waves down her shoulders - perfect, but not flawless: there's a creased line, a hint of her throat, just beneath the collar. There's a slight wisp out of place. The buttons aren't arranged all the way from her collar to her sternum.

"I'm going to go with that photoset, with the white top, in the sand - gonna post 'em online and generate some buzz. You even said it yourself: they're fine. " She pauses, pushing away a strand of hair. "Professionally, of course."

"Professionalism." You smile. "Of course."

She walks out carrying the stilettos: pumps in either hand.

"Always. Catch you soon," she promises, and you do catch a last flash of her expression, lips parted, the lower curving into a satisfied smile, right as she flicks the lock on the door open and your office goes back to quiet.

For a split second, it's unbearable: the silence.

And you think again.

She can have anything, get any boy, girl, whoever, any designer, photographer, make-up artist in the world; there's something so unmistakably intoxicating about the fact that the thing she's decided she wants, is you.

[tinythebunni]

bratty baby

Bratty Reader x ages up!Earth 42!Miles Morales

Pink is readers texting/speaking

Purple is Miles texting/speaking

Miles is 18 in this one!

🐾🎀🧸🎀🐾

“Ion give a fuck what plans you and your lil friends had tonight, I said don’t go out so you’re not goin out.”

For the past two months, Miles has been getting more and more controlling over what you can and can’t do and telling you when you can go out with your friends. It’s been getting on your nerves and while it’s very, very attractive, it’s pissing you off. You barely see your friends anymore and you hate being inside.

“You’re not being fair Miles! I never get to see my friends anymore and I miss them and they miss me!” Even through text he could tell you were pouting right now. Miles could just imagine you kicking your feet on your bed.

“So what, I’m just not enough for you? I’m all you need amor, why do you wanna go see them so badly? You don’t need them.”

“Miles, you know that’s not at all what I’m saying, I’m just saying that I miss my friends and I wanna see them!”

He didn’t understand why you couldn’t get what he was trying to tell you. He just needed you to not go out at night, especially tonight. He couldn’t tell you about him being the Prowler, it’d break your hot pink heart.

“And what I am telling you is that you’re not going out tonight.”

“You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do Miles. I’m not your fucking kid!” You were getting angrier by the minute, every word, burned and angered you even more. Usually you’d just listen to him and stay inside like he asked, but tonight you wanted to see what would happen if you pushed his buttons just a little more…

“You talkin real crazy right now, mamí. Ima let it slide tho because I know you’re just mad and in ya feels. But don’t ever say sum crazy shit like that again, because I remember what happened last time you wanted to be bad and go against what I say. Why not run it back, whatchu say ma?”

You stayed silent, fuming and thinking. He was being so unfair and you had no idea why. You didn’t like being left in the dark and he knew this.

“Now this conversation is over, I got shit to do.”

“You right, this conversation is over. Fuck you Morales.”

You silenced your phone and with a shaky hand and butterflies in your stomach, you put your coat on and walked out your house.

After about 20 minutes you started to feel bad. You didn’t know why you were so mean and disobedient to him. You knew he only wanted what was best for you, all he ever did was spoil you and make you feel special. Even though you felt guilty, the fire in your stomach from the anticipation of what was to come made you feel even better.

You had just walked out the door of the club you and your friends went to and started your route home when you heard a noise behind you. You looked around but found nothing. You sped up your pace and started to walk towards your house when you heard it again, this time next to you.

When you looked over, you saw nothing but an empty street and a few lamps on. You continued your walk when something hit your head. You could feel yourself falling but didn’t feel the concrete below you. The last thing you saw being purple AF1’s.

🐾🎀🧸🎀🐾

When you woke up, you were back in your house, an ice pack under your head and blankets pulled up to your chin. You heard your tv on in your living room and quickly got up to investigate. When you opened the door, you were met with the sight of your boyfriend in your couch, sitting there like nothing had happened. His legs spread, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together. The thing that caught your eye was the mechanic claw on his right hand.

When he noticed your presence he looked up at you and tilted his head. The glare on his face reignited that fire in your stomach. He stared at you, saying nothing at all as you shifted on your feet, nervous.

When you finally did decide to speak, your tone came out nervous and shaken and not at all like how you meant for it to sound.

“Why are you in my house Miles?”

“I can’t just come over when I wanna?”

“Answer my questions for once! Why are you in my house and why do you have on that same claw that the vigilante on the news wears?”

He knew you were a little daft but he didn’t expect this kind of idiocy.

“C’mon baby, put two and two together. I know you’re smarter than ya look.”

You knew the truth but you didn’t wanna believe it. You stayed silent, staring at him and fiddling with your hands. You were overwhelmed with fear and arousal, confusing you even more than ever.

Once he recognized the look of understanding on your face, he leaned back and curled his finger towards you in a demanding way.

“C’mere, we gotta talk.”

You sat down on the couch next to him, thighs touching and your gaze locked on the ground.

“Don’t be like that, look at me mamí”

When you looked at him, he could see the betrayal in your eyes. But he could also see the need and wanting. Feeling naked under his gaze, you looked back down at your floor,

“You’re him? You’re the guy from the news?” You voice quivered as you spoke, shaking from either fear or the amount of need and attraction you’re feeling right now. This man has killed people, he could kill you at any point! So why does that thought turn you on so much?

“Oh so now you wanna talk?” He asked, a lilt in his tone that let you know he was smirking without even having to look at him

“Don’t be mean Miles. This isn’t the time for jokes.”

“Yea I’m him, what’s it matter to you?” You knew that under the anger and accusation in his voice that he was feeling vulnerable. You crawled on his lap and laid your head on his shoulder and hugged him.

He froze at first, confused with the random affection, but slowly accepted the warmth. “I love you regardless of what you’re doing and who you’re killing.”

Miles almost wanted to scream at you to be afraid of him. He’s killed people. He’s hurt people, innocents even! Why weren’t you running?

You pulled back and reached up to cup his face and inched closer to him, looking down at his lips for permission. He closed the gap between you two and kissed you softly, like he missed you. It was warm and passionate, it wasn’t like this often. You didn’t often get this softness from him. But when you did, it made you feel like the most special girl in the world.

When you pulled back for air, you smiled, giddy with the thought of having your boyfriend back and not mad at you. But when he spoke to you, you knew you were in trouble.

“Don’t think I forgot what happened earlier. I was the one who brought you home, laid you down and tucked you in.” Miles looked down at you, smiling as if something was funny. You couldn’t move, the grip he had on your hips was tight, almost like a warning.

“Are you gonna hurt me?” You knew the answer, you always did. You knew what happened when you disobeyed him and what he says. You remembered what happened the last time.

Miles laughed, a loud hearty one, head tilted back and canines exposed. He chest shook with laughter and you shook in fear on his lap. When he looked down at you once more, he looked different, almost predatory.

“Oh chiquita, Ima do so much more.”

[notafunkiller]

we found wonderland

Summary: You have a choice to make: you either set yourself free or continue to play the game.

Pairing: (fake) boyfriend’s brother!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, age gap (r is 26, Bucky is 39), teasing, dirty talk, unprotected séx (but she is on the pill), pet names, daddy kínk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 2.4K

story masterlist

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this mini-series! Thank you for reading!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

You had decided you should wait for a week before making your relationship public, using that time to try to convince your parents to change their mind while Bucky plays pretend with his. It’s not an ideal situation, but he understands, keeping the truth to himself.

What he can’t keep to himself is his hands. Not that you can… but as soon as he comes home, he’s all over you, not even caring you are in the living room sometimes.

Acting like you’re just friendly is very hard for you. You want to touch and kiss him like crazy. Having sex with him changed the game, and now you try your hardest to find a way out of this deal so you can be in this relationship completely.

You laugh at the way he pouts. “You’re really adorable for an old man.”

“Is it so crazy I want us together?”

You melt, leaning in to kiss his chin. “That’s not crazy, baby, but isn’t that a little fast?”

“We’ve been living together for months now. What’s the difference?”

You wish you could find the right words to explain it. It’s quite scary and exciting, but it feels strange. “We’ve been together for a couple of days. Maybe we don’t…”

“Are you thinking of a break up already?”

You jump immediately. “No! Maybe we don’t have things figured out enough yet. And by we I mean me. I won’t have a job anymore if my parents don’t change their minds. I won’t have a real home. I won’t have anything but you. And I love every moment I spend with you, but I want something of my own, and I definitely don’t want to feel like a burden even if you don’t make me feel like that. My life is a mess.”

“And I want to help. I am not trying to control you or suggest something you don’t want, but we are friends, too, not just a couple. I am here for you. You can stay with me as a friend if not as a boyfriend. I want you safe.”

You say nothing, only staring at him for a while. You don’t even know what to say because the mix of emotions you feel is confusing.

“You know what I want?”

“What?”

“I want to fuck you right now.” You don’t try to hide your neediness as you place your hands on his shorts. “Can I, baby? Can I ride you?”

“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me before I turn forty. Is this your plan? Do you want me gone?” He’s already raising his ass so he can help you take off his shorts quicker.

“I want you with me always. Want you inside me so badly.”

He groans at your tone. “Then go for it, baby, take whatever you want. It’s all yours. I’m all yours.”

You smile eagerly seeing his hard cock, and lift his T-shirt. You cannot stand anything between your bodies right now. You just need to feel him. “God, we should go to the bedroom, but I can’t wait.”

You take off your underwear, unable to wait any longer. As if someone is holding a knife to your throat, and if you don’t get Bucky inside you in the next seconds, you’re gonna die.

“Anyone can walk in,” he says as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. He probably even enjoys it. “Can you imagine their faces?”

You snort, bringing his dick to your entrance without hesitation after spreading your legs further apart. “No, but I can imagine yours when you come.”

“You don’t need to imagine. You’re gonna see it up close if you hurry up.”

Neither of you even realize you’re not using a condom for the first time until it’s too late and you’re already sliding down.

Your grasp on his shoulders is so forceful, you’re sure it will leave a mark, as you moan his name.

“James…” You desperately look at him, wanting to see if he feels the same. “We’re not using anything.”

“I c-can feel that.”

“God damn it, James,” you sound like you’re scolding him, but in reality you are just overwhelmed.

“What did I… fucking hell, I am totally not getting to turn forty. I will die tonight.”

You ask with your eyes closed. “Do you want me to get a condom?”

“No, I want to die.” He groans, already in a different space. “Unless you want to… I am clean and you are, of course, and I can pull out, but like it’s not… I can go grab a condom right now.”

You immediately shake your head, placing your hand on his chest. He’s not gonna do that. He has to make you come.

“You are not going anywhere, you get out of me and I’ll die!”

“So you’re ovulating?” He asks casually, with a playful grin spread across his face.

You chuckle, hitting him in the shoulder. 

“Yes, I am, and you gotta take care of me.”

Bucky groans, grabbing your ass, unable to keep his hands off you. You’re so hot and warm. “You’re really, really wet, princess.”

“Ihm.” You slide down further, almost taking all of his cock. “Look how deep I took you now.” You moan proudly, feeeling so stretched like this. “Look at this, daddy.”

And when he lets his eyes drop to your entrance, he has no idea how he doesn’t com right then. The sight is incredible.

“Baby…”

“I’m your baby, daddy.” You quickly take off your T-shirt at the same time you move your hips. As soon as he’s naked, you grab your breasts, holding them together with a smirk. You know that is going to affect him, and it makes you feel powerful.

“Oh God,” he groans as you bring your breasts closer to his mouth.

“Come on, daddy, go ahead.”

It’s all he needs to hear before he takes your right nipple into his mouth and the left one between his fingers. Riding him like this is a little difficult, but it’s not impossible. You love getting your breasts played with, and he loves doing it.

There is also something really hot and thrilling about the possibility of getting caught. You have no idea why and how, but you’re going to enjoy this as much as you can.

“You feel so good like this, nothing between us. Nothing between your come and me,” you moan, not even thinking about what you say.

“You can’t say that and expect me to be strong.”

That makes you laugh. “I’m on the pill, though, you don’t have to be strong.”

“Fucking hell, you’re gonna drive me crazy.” He starts to thrust his hips back so he can meet you halfway. Riding him feels so, so good. You got him deeper, and the lack of a condom makes you properly feel his thickness.

“You feel so… Fuck, your cock is filling me just the way I need it.” You grab his shoulders so you can move faster. “You’re such a good daddy, let-letting me use you right here, where everyone could see us.”

“You love using daddy’s cock.” He looks so drunk, in so much pleasure. “Such a naughty girl.”

“I’m your naughty girl, James.”

“All mine.” His hands on your hips help you move faster indeed, and you’re already so close you can barely keep your eyes open.

“F-faster.”

Bucky stops thrusting his hips back, and you groan. You need more.

“If you want it faster, keep your eyes on me, pretty girl.”

“I c-can’t-” As much as you want to fight this, your eyes instinctively close again. “Ss-so close.”

He can hear your desperation and without hesitating, he brings his hand into your hair and pulls unexpectedly hard. That’s enough for you to come loud. So loud you can hear yourself as you let the pleasure consume every bit of you.

But Bucky doesn’t stop moving his hips, making your orgasm last longer. He’s saying things, probably dirty things, in your ear, but you can’t understand anything. Your ears are still ringing.

And just like that, Bucky comes too, with his right hand still wrapped around your hair while the left one is digging into the skin of your hip.

“Fuck, I’m coming inside you, baby, can you feel it? Can you feel me filling your pussy, baby?”

“Ihm,” you can barely whisper, too overwhelmed by everything.

“Whose come?”

“Y-yours.”

“Good girl.” He groans as soon as he finishes coming, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you. “This feels like heaven.”

“I don’t think I can go back to wearing a condom now. I mean if you want to…”

“Are you sure? We can still use one just to make sure we are safer.”

You peck him. “We can still use it, don’t worry, I get it. Looking out for me and stuff.”

He lets out a deep breath, thankful you understand what he means.

“Of course I am looking out for you, that’s my job.”

“Job? You are my daddy, not my mom or dad.”

“I am your partner and your friend. I will always look out for you.”

A sudden urge to fuck him again takes over your body, but before you can do it, your phone starts ringing.

Bucky gives you the phone without moving, and when you both see it’s his brother, you groan.

“Hi, William.” You try to sound as normal as possible, but your voice is so raspy it’s impossible.

“Hey, gonna be home in a few minutes. Are you okay? Is Bucky home yet?”

“Ihm, he came.” You wink at James. “All good here. See you.”

You don’t wait for him to answer before you’re hanging up.

“You came too.”

You giggle immediately. It’s hard not to be around Bucky; he is goofy at the right time. “We need to clean up, though, he’s close.”

“Alright.”

*

Your parents didn’t want to listen to you at all. You didn’t have the chance to talk at the party since they’re avoiding you at all costs, and you had to go outside not to cry in front of everyone. You don’t just feel alone and treated like shit, you feel humiliated.

You’re lucky Bucky went to pick up William because his car broke down halfway here, so he didn’t actually witness your breakdown. You know he’d have done something about it. Something you should.

At this point, what do you really have?

“Hey, are you well? Why are you outside, it’s freezing?”

Bucky’s voice makes you jump as he’s suddenly by your side, rubbing your arms. William is right behind him.

“Baby, why are you outside?”

You see Bucky rolling his eyes, and you sigh.

“I wanted some fresh air, William.” You turn toward Bucky before taking a step back. You don’t want him to think you reject his touch. You really need his hug, but it’s not about what you need. “We should go inside.”

He nods, and all three of you make your way close to the improvised stage in the main room.

It’s crazy how many people actually came; it almost feels suffocating.

Your parents have been talking for a while, you assume, because people were animated. You wonder what they promised them.

“And since we’re all here now, I have something to announce,” Bucky’s dad takes the microphone all of a sudden, and William sighs. You want to ask him what is going on since he looks nervous, but you don’t have time to. “I want to invite my son, William, on the stage with us.”

And then he calls your name.

You look at both of your parents, trying to understand why you’d be needed there, and Bucky is just as confused as you are. Everyone starts clapping, and you find yourself dragged on the stage before you can protest.

“Tonight marks a very special moment for us both: professionally and personally.” You freeze, looking at Bucky instantly, but he’s also shocked, shaking his head. “A partnership that will last for a long time, hopefully, passed to a real-life partnership that has developed over the last months.”

William smiles proudly when his dad pats him on the back, and you want to throw up right then.

You turn your head to your parents, who display the fakest smiles you’ve ever seen. They don’t care about what you want. About what you need. Either way, you’re alone, and you cannot continue to play their game. You can’t!

And before anyone can stop you, you’re basically running down the stairs, straight toward Bucky. You quickly wrap your hand around his neck and force him to lean in so you can properly kiss him. You sense his surprise, but you don’t stop, using the opportunity to shamelessly kiss him in front of the whole company, including your parents. He’s yours, and everyone should know it.

He cups your face when you break off the kiss to breathe, and you smile.

You finally did it! You’re free.

You don’t need to turn around to know how upset your families must be. Everyone around you is either gasping or whispering around. You know they’ll be talking about this for a solid week at least, but you’re not gonna be there to hear. You won’t explain anything to them, and they can consider you a cheater who fucked the other brother all they want. It is not your mess to fix. You just want to leave.

“Let’s get out of here,” you whisper, taking his hand. All you want is to eat something and suck him off. “I need to pack my stuff.”

“Are you sure?” He asks concerned as you start to walk toward the exit. Neither of you turns when William calls your names.

“I have never been more sure in my entire life.”

He says nothing as you reach his car, lifting the hand he’s been holding closer to his lips so he can brush a tender kiss against the back of it.

You’re going to be okay.

Tags:

@charmedbysarge @identity2212 @vicmc624  @cjand10  @mayusenpai666  @abitofblues @doveromanoff @buckyb-stan @igotmajordaddyissues

[milkpup]

｡⋆ʚ♡ bad luck comes in threes (and in me)

›› nsfw 18+ / 3 part fic

@ace_343 on twt

ch 2 ♡ ch 3

ʚ ao3 ɞ / ʚ kofi ɞ / ʚ fic masterlist ɞ

›› naoya zenin x f!reader ›› megumi fushiguro x f!reader ›› toji fushiguro x f!eader ›› naoya x f!reader x megumi / megumi x f!reader x toji ›› naoya x f!reader x megumi + toji ›› started: 1/12/24 : status: ongoing

‹𝟹 summary: You and Megumi are close friends. He invites you to his family's estate where you start to notice how bad your luck really is.

‹𝟹 fandom: jjk, jujutsu kaisen

‹𝟹 genres / warnings: au - no powers, college au, pseudo-incest (they all want y/n, not eachother), harsh language, abuse, power imbalance, dubious consent / rxpe / noncon

‹𝟹 tags: AGED UP CHARACTERS!, au - no deaths, au - toji and megumi are part of zenin clan still, power imblance, degradation, choking, loss of virginity, name calling, pet names, some fluff and LOTS OF SMUT, slight angst, all the zenins want you basically, vaginal, blow jobs, cunnilingus, face sitting, 4some, mdom, fsub, pseudo-incest, meet the family, breeding, cum as lube, cum swapping, light blood, aggressive choking, will update tags as more is added, praise, being called a good girl

‹𝟹 notes: this is a long time in the making. i probably started this fic over a month ago >< i've been working on it more than my lfls fic that i like more. just smthn abt naoya...... (usually i prefer naoya to be subby but this fic is diff oopsies :3!). lmk what y'all think.i'll be updating my other fic real soon but for now, crumbs of this i guess LOL. i was originally going to do a oneshot but it was already starting to get long and i hadn't even progressed much in the plot i have written up x-x so i figured i'd do 3 chaps since it's like the theme >:3 hope y'all like it!!!

i'll be updating tags as it progresses. i'm super excited abt this fic even tho it's like 99% smut. (idk how to write stuff w/o smut oops) what can i say??? 🤌

!! - again, PLEASE READ TAGS BEFORE CONTINUING - !!

! - ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ - !

Chapter 1: Exposed

“So, do you think you can make it?” Megumi asks, taking a sip of his coffee and looking at you inquisitively. “To my family event, the reunion thing, I mean.”

You hadn’t thought about it much. Sipping on your tea, you contemplated. You’ve never met Megumi’s extended family; you had no idea what they would be like. Megumi’s family is huge, and it would be a multi-day event held at their estate. “Oh, what the hell. I have nothing better to do during winter break anyways.”

His face lights up a bit at your confirmation, but Megumi tries his hardest to hide it. You can see the blush creeping across his nose, his cheeks, even reaching the tips of his ears. He was like a little puppy, excited to see you.

“Make sure to bring any nice clothes you want to wear, but there will be pajamas and toiletries provided to you.” He finished his drink and moved to throw his away. “Are you done too?”

You felt bad, you had a little bit of your tea left and he was patiently waiting for you to finish to throw your trash away for you. You hurriedly suck up the remainder of the tea through the straw, and hand him the empty cup. “Thanks, Megs.” You chirp.

Megumi blushes and looks away as he takes your cup from your hands.

--

You’re back at your house, frantically packing last minute before Megumi comes over to pick you up. You’ve always been an overpacker, and you have no idea what to expect. You throw all sorts of garments into a pile that you want to take: casual clothes like leggings and hoodies, dresses and formalwear, and intimates. You blush, picking up matching sets of underwear and bras. You decide to toss them onto the pile anyways, better prepared than not. You didn’t know who you were “preparing” for, but felt your cheeks flush anyways. I’m meeting my close friend’s extended party and I’m packing lingerie, am I a fucking creep? You shake your head, trying to shake the thoughts out too.

You finish stuffing your clothes into your bags, packing some makeup and skincare that they probably wouldn’t have available. Just as you finish zipping your second bag, you hear a loud knock on the front door. It’s Megumi.

You open the door with a soft smile, greeting Megumi. “Thanks for picking me up Megs! Can you help me with my other bag?”

He looks down to where you’re gesturing, noticing the other bag. “Jeez ____, it’s a 3 day party. How many clothes do you need?”

You blush, sheepishly. “I just want to be prepared… y’know?” Megumi huffs and groans before picking up both bags. A lady should never have to carry her own bags, and he noticed it seemed like you were struggling with how heavy these bags were, being packed to the absolute brim.

“T-thanks, Megs.” You croak out as you follow behind him to his car. He doesn’t reply, hoisting your bags in the trunk before slamming it shut. You open the door and sit in the passenger side, buckling your seatbelt with an audible click. He gets in shortly after you, adjusting his seatbelt and turning the car on. 

The silence is thick, but not awkward. You and Megumi were comfortable around each other, not requiring a word to be said as you sat in comfortable silence on the drive to his family’s estate. Your curiosity got the better of you, and you ask Megumi, breaking the silence, “So what are the plans for the event? How big is it going to be, anyways?”

Megumi answers you, not taking his eyes off the road. “It will have pretty much my entire family, extended family, and family friends. There’s lots to do at our estate, from the gardens, movie room, bar room, and more. As for planned events, music and lots of food, maybe dancing?” His tone ends questioningly, he knows his family isn’t particularly fond of frivolous activities like dancing, but there might still be some as more people loosen up.

You nod, taking in his answer. This sounds almost a little exciting. Much better than spending time holed up in your room, studying or watching youtube.

--

Megumi pulled up to the grandiose estate. “Wow Gumi, I knew your family was loaded…. But not THIS loaded,” You gasped in awe. The entire property was large enough to be a mini village. You were shocked, to say the least. The beautiful landscaping, trees, the koi pond that connected into a river surrounding the main building… it was all too beautiful.

“Yeah, they are wealthy on a whole different level,” he responds, as he pops the trunk and retrieves your bags. “Usually they have servants around, but I’ll show you around the estate myself instead.” He starts walking towards the front entrance, you follow him closely behind, not wanting to get lost.

Megumi doesn’t even have to open the door, servants inside let him in as soon as he approaches. He briskly walks along the pavilion, turning left towards a long corridor. You try to match pace, but his long legs gives him an advantage. You take this moment, a few paces behind Megumi, to admire his raven locks bouncing as he walked.

As you’re walking, you pass an entryway, seeing a few figures to your right. Someone clicks their tongue. “I see my cousin Megumi understands,” he starts, eyes following your figure as you walk past him, “that a woman’s place is three steps behind a man’s.” This mysterious man, related to Megumi, smirks as your figure disappears.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s so full of shit it’s festering,” Megumi spits out. He seems to really hate whoever that guy was. Megumi leads you to a room down a quiet corridor and opens the door. “This will be your room for the next few nights,” He announces as he enters the room and sets your bags down. “My room is on the other side of the estate. These are the guest rooms. We can check mine out later, if you’re interested.” He flushes at that last part, looking down and uncomfortably shifting his weight. “Anyways, I have to clean up before dinner in an hour. I’ll be back to see you soon.’

Megumi retreats from your room and closes the door behind him. You decide to unpack, putting things in the drawers and hanging some items in the closet. The room was quite spacious, with its own bathroom attached and adjacent to this room.

You haven’t finished unpacking yet but decided to take a quick shower just to freshen up. You scope out the bathroom and quickly shut the door behind you. Turning the shower on to a scalding hot temp, you wait for it to heat up as steam fills the bathroom. You strip and enter the shower.

--

He stalks the hallway you were walking through but a moment ago. He’s insanely curious as to what you look like up close, intrigued by your fleeting form as you walked by behind Megumi. He wondered if you were his toy, you following Megumi like a puppy definitely gave off that message.

He can still smell a lingering scent of citrus and flowers. He knows it’s you, because women of the clan are usually not permitted to walk this side of the estate anyways. He’s following your trail, like a predator following its prey. He sees the faint glow of light coming from the crack of a door and approaches it.

He knocks once. No response. He knocks twice. Still nothing. Naoya Zenin believed he was a gentleman, but he had his limits. This was his future estate, he believed he had every right to know every single thing going on under this roof.

He lets himself in, and immediately sees the cracked bathroom door, a bit of steam escaping. He hears you humming while taking a shower, and smirks. He silently closes the door, and makes his way towards your plush bed. He sees a bag open, clothes strewn about. Something frilly and lacy catches his eye, and he walks towards the table instead. He picks the article of clothing up, noticing he was holding a black thong, laces and bows, adorned with gems along the thin waistband. He licked his lips, unholy thoughts flooding his brain.

He hears you shut off the shower, and quickly pockets the garment, swiftly moving to sit on the edge of the bed. A few moments pass, and the door of the bathroom swings open. Steam floods your room, quickly dissipating. You have a towel wrapped around your body, still humming as you walk towards your pile of clothes. You had set a specific set on top to put on after your shower. You could have sworn the thong was there, but as you rummaged through your bag the garment was nowhere to be seen.

“Looking for these, little miss?” You gasp and turn around to see a man sitting on your bed, holding up your thong with 1 finger, while smirking and eyeing you down. You nearly drop your towel, but regain composure.

“Who are you?” You ask, unsure of why a strange man you’ve never seen before let himself into your room.

“My apologies, doll, I didn’t mean to scare you. My name is Naoya Zenin. I’m set to be the next heir of the clan and estate,” he smirks, “And I figured I should personally introduce myself to you. It would be impolite of me not to do so. Who are you?”

“I’m _____, Megumi’s friend. He invited me over to meet all his family.” His ears perked up at you mentioning your friendship with Megumi, a devious thought crossing. You were still in your towel, cold air further cooling your already wet skin.

“You didn’t answer my first question, little miss. Were you planning on wearing these?” He practically spins the panties around his finger, staring you down intently. “I didn’t think such a good girl would bring something like this to wear when meeting her friend’s family…” He trails off.

A blushes creeps along your face, you didn’t think someone would know. You didn’t think someone would barge into your room, look through your clothes, and tease you about it. You couldn’t even look Naoya in the eye, shame clearly on display on your features.

“Don’t worry, woman, I won’t tell anyone. You wouldn’t want your close friend, Megumi, to know about this right? I won’t tell; however, my silence has a price.” He finishes his comment, smirking at you. His sultry gaze was locked on you, scanning your body from head to toe. He grinned and licked his lips, thinking about how he could manipulate you.

“What do you mean?” You look up at him, confused and unsure about the situation. “What do I have to do?” At that question, Naoya lifts himself from your bed to make his way towards you. His gaze never once leaving yours, making intense eye contact that sent shivers down your spine and left you trembling. You felt like prey being stalked by a predator.

Naoya is right in front of you now, as he grabs both wrists with his hands and lifts them above your head. You’re startled but have no time to react as he pushes you against a wall, wrists pinned above you. You can feel Naoya’s hot breath tickling your cheek, making you lose all sense of rationality. He grins at you, looking down as he has you in a position you can’t easily free yourself from. Your head hangs low, looking down, trying to stifle your heavy breathing. You don’t want him to know his actions are affecting you.

“I know women are dumb, but seriously, how can you not know what I mean? At least you’re pretty….” He leaves his sentence unfinished, bringing a cold hand to your chin and tilting your head to look at him. “Little miss, I’ll explain it to you once, in an easy way to understand. I want to use you. Your body, specifically. Will you be a good girl and let me? Or do you want me to make you.” Naoya’s tone drops a bit, almost grunting at the end. Thoughts about what “using you” entails floods your mind. You’re inexperienced, but not entirely clueless. Your blush deepens as you look into his eyes, now peering down at you.

You didn’t think being degraded and praised in the span of a few seconds would entice you as much as it would. Normally you’re a very independent woman, fully capable of realizing your own dreams and pursuing your own goals. But something… something about being put down but also called a good girl sent you driving up the wall with insanity. You were hooked near instantly.

“Yes sir,” you meekly respond, looking up at Naoya. Your emotions and lust are on clear display for him, and he’s enjoying every second of it.

“Good girl.” He smirks. “Just to be clear, I have very specific tastes and like to be pleased in a certain way. Try and make me proud, you dumb whore.” Your cheeks flared red at the insult. “Open your mouth, cunt.”

You made no hesitation to fulfill his command. He still had a firm grip on your chin, leaning down as he spit into your mouth. “Swallow, princess.” He instructs as he pushes your mouth closed. You comply, feeling more heat pooling between your legs. “Good girl,” he purrs as you open your mouth to show him.

He leans back into you, lips crashing into yours. He nips at your bottom lip, drawing a tiny bit of blood as he goes back to kissing you. He can taste the blood mixed with both of your saliva as he forces his tongue into your mouth, trying to push his way into every part of you he can. His hand previously at your chin is moving down toward your neck, resting into a firm grip across your neck. You can still breathe, but the firm pressure while he’s sloppily kissing you elicits a few soft moans from you into his mouth. You can’t tell, but he’s grinning as his grip increases a bit. He pulls away before taunting you, “Do you like that? Huh? Are you a masochist or something?” He’s not relenting, grip strengthening as you’re looking up at him, tears beginning to form in your eyes.

You’re unable to speak, so you try to nod your head to show him that he’s right. He notices and loosens his grip before moving his hand towards your chest. “Good girl,” he praises you. “I like that.” He leaves kisses in a trail from your lips to your neck, kissing over the faint marks his hands left before. You’re still against the wall, hands above your head, and he released his other grip before picking you up and carrying you to your bed.

“Next time, I want to see you wear that slutty fucking lingerie you brought. You’re such a dirty girl.” He peers down at you as you’re left exposed on your bed. He’s crawling above you, pushing you into the mattress. He gives you a few impatient kisses before moving back to your chest, grabbing one of your breasts while his mouth moves to the other. His other hand is fervently roamed your body, moving down your tummy towards your hips and eventually resting on your thigh. His hands were soft but rough trailing along your skin, as if he was searching for something.

Naoya’s hand slips to your inner thigh, just shy of your exposed cunt. He lightly grips it as he starts leaving a trail of kisses down your body as he took his hand from your breast and pushed your thighs apart. He left love bites and marks as he made his way to your cunt, stopping to look up at you. He grinned as he spit on one of his fingers, prodding its way through your folds to find your clit. He’s been with many women, and although he has an arrogant attitude, he does know exactly how to please a woman.

He rubs circles around your clit as his mouth leaves a little bite mark against your inner thigh. You softly moan at the pain as Naoya’s eyes flick up to meet yours. Although you can’t see it, you’re sure he has that asshole smirk of his. Your suspicions are pretty much confirmed when he says “Are you some masochist? Some dumb bitch who likes to be hurt. For real?” You think you heard a laugh as he moved his finger down to your hole, spitting some more before he fucked you with a finger. You didn’t need any more lube, you were practically drenched. He pushed his finger in, feeling how tight your hole was with only one of his fingers.

“You have the tightest cunt I’ve ever felt. I’m impressed. Are you a virgin too?” He looked up at you, expecting an answer.

“Yeah..” You tried to hide your face with your hands, embarrassed at your lack of experience. Naoya saw it differently though. His cock twitched in his pants as you replied, and he started moving his finger inside your tight cunt. He loved hearing the little moans you make as he slipped his finger in and out, a lewd wet sound filling the room. He was trying to get you used to it, but he was getting impatient. He was already working harder for any woman he’s ever been with.

His mouth moved above your clit, tongue flicking around the sensitive bud as he slipped in another long finger into your hole. He curled and scissored his fingers, trying to stretch you as his fingers fucked you faster. Your face was flush with embarrassment as you still tried to contain some of your moans. One more finger slipped in, stretching your walls while he moved above you, face aligned with yours.

He kept fingering your cunt as he aggressively kissed you, biting your lip before he shoved his tongue into your mouth. You could feel yourself come closer to the edge, your core tightening. You were moaning into his mouth, arms wrapped around his neck pulling his body closer into yours.

“Fuck... Naoya…” you whined out as you felt the thread about to snap, “I’m gonna—cum!!” His fingers slammed into your cunt as he was leaving marks along your neck. You felt your walls tighten around his fingers as he expertly prepped your cunt for the main event.

“You’re such a good girl… I almost feel bad taking your virginity. Almost.” Naoya takes out his fingers, sucking on a few of them to taste you. He pushes one of his fingers into your mouth, commanding you to taste your own cunt.  “Next time I’ll taste you myself… but I can’t wait any longer,” he says as he’s taking off his shirt and pants, pulling down his briefs to expose his large cock. He moves up above you again, grabbing your legs by the ankle as his body is pushed against yours. He’s putting you in a mating press. He moves the tip to your entrance and spits on his cock before slowly pushing inside, feeling your tight walls around his girthy cock.

He gives you time to adjust, but it isn’t nearly enough. Naoya has been kind enough, but he always takes what he wants. Still, he will be nice one last time. “I’m gonna fuck you how I want to now, okay whore? You’re gonna be a good girl and take it anyways, right?” He gives you no time to prepare as he slams into you, bottoming out, forcibly deflowering you. The pain hurts, but Naoya is relentless. He pulls out and briefly gives you a moment of respite before slamming his cock back into your cunt. Despite the pain, the feeling is like never before as his body is pushed against yours, cock ramming in and out of your hole. Your cute moans are like music to his ears.

He leans down towards your face, seeming like he’s going to kiss you but instead spits on you. He moves a hand to grasp around your throat as you’re looking up at, unable to make any sound as his cock abuses your hole. The pressure and lack of air make your head feel dizzy as he spits again, degrading you. “You like that too, huh, stupid slut.” He hips pick up speed, pulling out before repeatedly bottoming out into your cunt. He lets go of your neck, allowing you to gasp for air. He would never admit it, but the sound of you struggling to breathe drives him insane.

He spits on his hand and moves it to your clit, fervently rubbing your bud, bringing you closer to your second orgasm of the night. You feel the waves of pleasure overwhelm your body as he’s raw dogging your cunt and relentlessly abusing your clit. Your moans are laced with pleasure, dripping with your ecstasy as you cum over Naoya’s cock, tightening your walls around him.

Naoya mercilessly fucks your virgin hole like he deserves it, like it’s owed to him. Whatever he wants, he gets. He’s grunting as moaning as he picks up speed, fucking you like an animal. “Hey bitch, ah fuck—I’m gonna cum in you. You’re gonna take it like a good girl alright?” He lightly slaps your face as he’s finishing his sentence, bottoming out for the last time before he slams back inside your cunt and paints your insides white. You can feel the warmth of his seed filling you; there’s so much of it that it leaks out, a lewd sight before Naoya as he looks down at where you’re both connected. Before he can pull out and clean himself, the door to the guest room slightly creaked open as if it had been left ajar, not fully closed. Naoya cursed himself for not closing and locking the door.

--

Megumi had been standing there for not even 5 minutes when he went to check on you and bring you to dinner. He was approaching your room when he heard faint moaning coming from your room.  He was confused and curious, stopping in front of your door as he noticed it was left slightly open. What he saw left him shocked and speechless, unable to move or avert his gaze through the crack.

He heard you more than he could see you clearly, but your moans that are more beautiful than a symphony of angels was more than enough to make Megumi’s cock strain in his pants. He peered closer, unable to see who was fucking you but still able to see your bodies colliding. He couldn’t deny how erotic it was to see you get fucked, but a twang of jealousy and pain struck his heart that he wasn’t the one making your body shake in pleasure.

He hears a voice, it sounds familiar although he can’t quite place it, telling you he’s about to cum. Megumi leans forward more, slightly pushing the door as he watches the other man breed you. Just as the door squeaks, the man’s head whips to see the door and he makes eye contact with Megumi.

--

“____, what are you doing?” Megumi questions as he practically stumbles into the room. You lift your head to see Megumi looking at you and Naoya in horror. Shame and embarrassment overcome you, and you move to cover yourself with some blankets as Naoya got off of you and faced Megumi,

“I think it’s more appropriate to ask what are you doing, Megumi?” Naoya’s staring daggers into Megumi; he’s unaffected that his family member caught him in a compromising position, almost as if he’s used to it.

“I was coming to get ___ for dinner… I didn’t realize she was busy being a disgusting fucking whore and sleeping with my family though.” He looks over to you, making eye contact as he sees tears form in the corners of your eyes. He doesn’t actually think you’re disgusting, quite the opposite in fact. But he’s so upset that someone else got to be with you first, and Naoya of all people. As if that scum deserved to be with someone like you.

Naoya could instantly tell what was going on here. He can read Megumi like a book, and smirks as he grabs fistfuls of your hair and pulls you against his chest to taunt Megumi. “Looks like you lost. This is why I’ve always been superior to you. You wanted this little slut, huh? Mad that I broke her in first, aren’t you?” His voice is laced with amusement as he provokes Megumi. He pulls your head to be almost level with his as he spits onto your face. “Your little friend is quite the slut, I had a lot of fun using her like the whore she is. She probably wouldn’t even mind if you joined in, isn’t that right bitch?”

Despite the predicament you were in, you couldn’t help but feel aroused at Naoya’s manhandling and suggestion of Megumi joining in. It had never crossed your mind, although Megumi is quite attractive, you didn’t think he was interested. You were only able to mutter out a small “yes” as you look over to Megumi, noticing the flush in his cheeks reaching all the way to the ends of his ears, and the straining bulge in his pants.

“I’m sorry, ___... Be good for me, please?” He was almost pleading as he was walking over to the bed, already starting to strip.

“You can hurt her and call her names, that dumb whore likes it.” Naoya says, moving aside to let Megumi have easier access to you. You’re still lying on your back, barely recovered from getting your guts rearranged only minutes before. Megumi stands in front of you before kneeling down to get at eye level with your cunt. Naoya hadn’t been able to get up since Megumi stumbled into the room; because of this, your womb was filled to the brim with Naoya’s hot cum leaking out of your small hole. Megumi’s eyes were immediately locked on at the lewd sight before him when he used both hands to grip your thighs and spread them apart.

He moved a slender finger past your leaking hole, scooping a bit of cum up with his fingers as he dragged his finger across your clit. The sharp inhale and moan you made sounded absolutely divine to Megumi, urging him to keep going. “Good girl…” he purrs, as he moves his long fingers down to your hole again, once again scooping another glob of cum. “Sit up, slut,” He commands as he stands up. You comply, not willing to play any games in a situation like this. He shoves his cum covered fingers into your mouth; you lap it up and suck his fingers without having to be told anything. Megumi grins. “Good girl, ____. Such a good girl.”

“I bet you like that, don’t you slut?” You hear Naoya’s remark from aside you, he’s watching all of this unfold right before him. Megumi takes his fingers out of your mouth, Naoya grips you with fistfuls of hair and forces you to look at him. “Answer me, bitch.” He glares at you intensely.

“Yes… yes sir… I do.” You try to look anywhere except him but Naoya isn’t having it.

“When men are speaking, you show them the respect they deserve. That means you answer clearly and fucking pay attention. Got it?” He tugs your head to face him, leaning in closer until he’s only a few inches from your face. “Open your mouth, bitch. And don’t swallow until I tell you to.” You comply and he spits into your mouth, before closing the gap and letting his lips crash into yours. He bites your lip, drawing blood. The metallic essence mixes with his spit before Naoya leans back and instructs you to swallow. It feels perverse and humiliating to admit that it turned you on.

Megumi dropped onto his knees again, this time pushing his slender fingers into your cunt. It feels different this time for you; he’s gentler as he stretches you open. He takes his time adding more fingers, taking in every moment and feeling.

“Let’s change the position, yeah Megumi?” Naoya says it more as a statement and less of a question as he’s already moving to rest on the bed against the wall, pillows propping him up. He pulls you away from Megumi while simultaneously flipping you onto your tummy. He pulls you into his lap, supporting your arms until you’re able to prop yourself up above his cock. One hand grips the back of your head and pulls you closer to his thick cock. He pulls you by your hair, aligning your mouth with the tip of his cock as he forcefully shoves your head down. You nearly gag, pushing against him as he tries to use your mouth. Despite your resistance, Naoya doesn’t seem to care and is chasing his own high using you to get him off. You take him into your mouth, inexperienced but trying to adjust quickly. Naoya gives you barely any time to try and settle within the rhythm he’s created. You basically gag on his cock every time he plunges it slightly deeper than the last, but this only enhances Naoya’s pleasure.

While Naoya’s aggressive use of your mouth is going on, Megumi is taking his time to explore you from behind. His fingers are touching every part of your body he can get to, settling on your ass that he starts to spread apart. He’s entranced by the glistening of your cunt in the light, lost in thought about how lewd you look taking Naoya’s cock while bent over for him like a full course meal. He’s done with his “inspection” and moves one of his slender fingers to your entrance. He slips it in easily, listening to you moan with a cock stuffed in your mouth. Naoya pushes your head down farther along his length, trying to hit the back of your throat. You try to control your breathing in time with his rhythm.

Megumi slips another finger inside, stretching your cunt. “Fuck, ____, I didn’t think you were this tight.” He groans as he starts fucking you with his fingers. The lewd sounds he forces out you vibrate around Naoya’s cock. His other hand is grabbing fistfuls of your hair, face fucking you harder as your dripping cunt takes another of Megumi’s fingers. Megumi picks up pace, bringing another hand to your clit to add extra stimulation, but mostly so he can see you writhe and squirm under him while trying to hold yourself up.

“Will you be a good girl for me and cum, ___?” Megumi coos, stringing you along with his praises. “You look like such a dirty girl right now, already about to cum with just my fingers. So cute.” He finger fucks you harder now, making lewd wet noises as his fingers slam back into your pussy. His other hand is toying with your clit, drawing circles and rubbing the little button to bring you closer to your ecstasy. You can feel the knot tightening in your stomach, feeling yourself be pushed over the edge with his fingers alone.

Naoya thrusts into your throat, choking you and momentarily leaving you without air as Megumi pushes you over the edge. You feel your cunt tighten around his fingers as the waves of pleasure wash over you, the lack of air adding to your heightened senses. You moan as you’re cumming, giving just enough sensation to Naoya for him to creampie your throat. His cum is being forced down your throat, yet there’s still so much that some leaks from the corners of your mouth as his cock is pushed against the back of your throat. He finally shows mercy and pulls out as you’re coming down from your high. You force yourself to as much as you can before gasping for air, panting as you trying to calm down again.

“You did a good job taking all of me, slut.” Naoya grins as he lifts your chin with one of his fingers, leaning down to give you a kiss as you share his cum in your mouth. You didn’t think he’d be into some perverted shit like that, yet he’s basically tongue fucking your mouth still full of his cum. He pulls away, a long string of saliva and cum still connecting you two.

Megumi watches you two, his cock throbbing so intensely it almost hurts. He wastes no time in pulling his pants and boxers down before spitting in his hand and lubing his cock up. He’s shuffling behind you, lining himself up with your cunt before he pushes in at full force, giving you no time to adjust to his monstrous cock. You let out a yelp, air evacuating your lungs at the surprise intrusion. He’s balls deep near instantly in your tight hole, stretching you open with a cock that is even girthier than Naoya’s.

Naoya is watching you, grinning, and lazily stroking his cock. You have no idea how he’s able to keep going for multiple rounds, only a little bit of time in between. But you don’t care. The man in front of you is irresistibly hot even though his attitude is garbage. You would do anything he asked no matter how degrading it is in hopes that he would manhandle you again. As these thoughts cross your mind, Megumi reels you back into reality as he pushes so deep into your womb you’re sure he probably bruised your cervix.

“Your pussy is amazing, sweetheart. You have no idea… hah.. how long I’ve been wanting this.” Megumi praises you, unable to control his breathy moans as he continues fucking you with full force. One of your arms is pulled to your side, Megumi interlocking fingers and holding your hand as he drills into you. Even in a situation like this, he can’t help but do some cute shit.

His other hand lightly smacks your ass as you whimper in pleasure, unable to hide the fact that you like it a little rough. Megumi lets go of your hand as you feel both his arms snake around your waist, pulling you up and against his chest as he fucks you. Your back is to his chest, on full display for Naoya in front of you. His shiteating grin is plastered on his face as he has a front row view of Megumi’s cock sliding in and out of you. He gets up from his seated position to face you. Megumi’s arms are still wrapped around your body, supporting you as he drills into your cunt. You can feel his breath against your neck and hear his soft whimpers in your ear. “You’re doing so well, slut. Such a good girl for me huh?” He whispers into your ear. His words send chills down your spine as he keeps ramming his cock into you, abusing your poor hole.

Naoya moves closer to you, his face only a few inches away from yours. He kisses you slowly, before aggressively trying to fill your mouth with his tongue. He pulls away, spits on your face, and lightly slaps your face. “You love taking your friend’s cock, huh? Didn’t think it would be that good, did you? Who knew you’d be the family’s fuckdoll.” He chuckles at his degrading joke, but you couldn’t help but internalize his words. You have no idea how you got to be in this situation, but you were definitely not complaining. Something about multiple men of the same family using you how they liked made your cunt drip at the mere thought of it.

Naoya moves his mouth to your neck, leaving little marks on your skin to prove he was there. Little bruises of his lust for you, marking your skin like you’re property. Megumi start pulling out with only the tip left inside, before bottoming out into your cunt. He groans beside you, lost in the addictive pleasure that is you. Megumi was no virgin, but he believed you were the best person he’s ever fucked, your body insanely attractive and your personality catching and reeling him, unable to resist you.

Naoya moves back before bringing a hand to your neck, gripping your throat and momentarily cutting off your oxygen. “Megumi… fuck this bitch harder when I choke her, okay? She fucking loves it.” And he wasn’t wrong, you did love it. He gripped your throat, a smirk planted on his features as he watched you helpless and at his mercy. Some drool started dripping out of your mouth and you could feel your vision starting to haze around the edges. Megumi fucked into you harder, pulling you closer to his body. Naoya let his grip loosen a bit around your throat, enough to allow some air to fill your lungs again.

“I’m close, baby. I’m gonna fill you up okay? Be a good girl and take all of it for me.” Megumi purrs beside you. Naoya takes this moment to strengthen the grip around your throat, cutting off your air. You feel Megumi’s speed pick up, him desperately chasing his orgasm. You can hear his staggered whimpers as he empties his load into your cunt, filling your already full womb even more. Naoya releases his hand from your throat, making you choke and gasp for air. He’s looking down at you with sadistic satisfaction as you struggle to catch your breath.

Megumi pulls out and lets go of your waist, and you plop down onto the bed absolutely fucked out. Naoya is quick to get off the bed and start dressing. He finishes so quickly it’s as if he was speedrunning it (he has done this many, many, MANY times before). He gives you a quick peck on the lips and gently rubs your cheek before starting to walk towards the door. “See you soon, slut,” he says as he walks out, closing the door behind him this time. Megumi returns with a clean towel, gently cleaning you up as you just lay their like a limp fish.

“You did so well for me. Thank you,” he says as he kisses your cheeks and then your lips before pulling away and picking up some clothes for you. He tosses you a simple outfit to wear and begins dressing himself as well. “Ready for dinner? You’re gonna meet the rest of my family now.” You nod your head yes, anticipating who else you’re going to meet.

--

‹𝟹 notes: this was originally suppsed to be a oneshot, but i felt like it was getting too long. i have plans for all of them and wasn't going to be able to execute it in just a oneshot. let me know what y'all think!

feedback is always appreciated!! thank you all!!!

ch 2 (soon)

‹𝟹 notifs: @vvxxccaa @arylaa @starshipxoxo

ʚ join my notifs ɞ

(･ω･)つ divider creds to @/cafekitsune and @/eloquentreverie

[strsburn]

willing to give ★ ꒰ miguel o'hara ꒱

pairing - miguel o'hara x fem! reader

synopsis - what the two of you have, has never been real, until it is.

see also - you've danced the line between lust, and love with miguel far too many times. what's one more?

warnings - breeding kink, fwb to lovers, biting kink, choking kink, miguel being emotionally constipated, feelings feeling feelings !

notes - watched atsv this weekend, i went for oscar issac & my love for spider-man & immediately fell in love with another fictional man sigh

i might make a part two?? idk it depends on if people like this, i am trying

i took a lot of inspiration from this song

"Cállate el hocico."

You blanch, the dimple between your brows twitching in the familiar notes of anger. An emotion you've come to favor when being in any vicinity of Miguel o'Hara.

"Quitate la ropa."

His voice is tinged with impatience, and you know it isn't a suggestion. You know you could easily leave, rebuff his advances, and be on your way. You've done this dance many times before.

Yet, you only glare as you shed your clothes. Faux annoyance painting your face as Miguel smirks, basking in the fact that despite your words, you always find yourself under him.

"Fuck." You're unable to hold in a gasp as he breaches you, your slick making the glide easy as he fills you to the brim.

He mutters curses underneath his breath as he grasps your hips so tightly, stars burst beneath your eyelids, and you know this is effecting him as much as it is you.

You both moan as his cock touches your cervix, his length reaching places no other man could even come close to. He pulls back, the tip catching on your clit, he meets your eyes, the red hue darkening, looking expectant.

Finding something in your gaze, he tightens his grip, talons digging into your skin, and thrusts. The air is punched out of your lungs as he touches your cervix once again.

He doesn't give you time to recuperate as he picks up the pace, the ridges of his cock brushing against your sensitive walls adding to the pleasure that lights every nerve of your pussy.

You dig your fingernails into his back, dragging them down the arch of his shoulders as he whines feeling the skin break beneath your hands.

"Are you going to come for me, cosa bonita?" He whispers, fangs nibbling on the outer lobe of your ear. You shiver, the low drawl of his voice causing you to clench tighter around his cock.

You open your mouth, trying to form some type of response, but all that greets your ears is your own high pitched cry as he shifts your legs to rest closer to your chest, opening you wider for his ministrations.

In this position he reaches deeper, and all sense of coherence is lost as you feel your orgasm approaching.

"Hmm, you don't have a lot to say now, do you? Too busy being split open on my nice big cock."

He chuckles, the sound dripping with arrogance as he grips your throat, his thrusts becoming unhinged, and animalistic.

You reach a hand for your stomach, moaning as you feel the bulge embedded in your skin, his cock moving beneath it.

You whine as he suddenly pulls out of you, disrupting your climax as the source of your pleasure is snatched.

Before you can complain, he flips you, bending you over the control board as he pushes your head down, adjusting you as if you were a doll made for his release.

The idea further arouses you, and you blush as you feel more slick decorate your entrance.

Miguel must see it, as he chuckles, smoothing a hand down your cunt, fingertips gliding across your lips, bringing back the evidence of your lust

He brings his digits to your mouth, and you oblige, opening your mouth wordlessly as he brushes his fingertips across your tongue, your eyes closing as you taste yourself.

"Así que niña chica." He praises, trailing his fingers across your cheek as you hum.

He leaves a kiss down your spine as he grips your hips, before entering you once more.

His pace is unhurried, careful in his rhythm as he touches your cervix with each movement, his hands caressing your tits between thrusts.

You reach behind you to grasp for his hand, bringing it back to your throat as you feel him twitch inside you.

His fingers curl around your throat firm but not to the point of pain, and you moan as you feel your end approaching.

Miguel is not far behind, and you gasp as he brings you to his chest, his hand trailing low to your clit as he flicks it gently.

"You look so pretty on my cock like this, mi chica bonita. Are you going to come?" He asks teasingly, despite his soft tone.

"Y-yes." You cry out as he ups the pace, the tip of his cock now pounding on your cervix, pulsing with his own impending peak.

"Going to fill this pretty cunt up, get you swollen with my baby." He murmurs under his breath, most likely to himself. Yet the words reach your ears, and you quiver, the dam breaking as your orgasm overcomes you.

You spasm around his cock, crying out as he curses, his hand leaving your throat to grasp your thigh as he continues to thrust in your oversensitive pussy, grasping at his own end.

"W-where?" He pants, and you know what he's asking for, even as he struggles to pull out.

"Inside." You plead, fingers turning white with the grip you have on the control board.

He pants deeply, voice bordering on a growl as he paints your walls with his cum, thrusting softly to make sure none of it is wasted. You feel a sharp sting on your neck, and you gasp as you realize in the throes of your pleasure he sunk his fangs into you.

You tremble as another orgrasm rushes through you at the thought, and you both struggle to catch your breath.

As he pulls out of you, you straighten up, bending to reach for your clothes as you follow the routine the pair of you had developed.

You are no more than an temporary distraction, an aspirin for an ongoing headache, only taken when needed.

No more than that.

A warm hand on your arm disrupts your self loathing, and you look up.

Miguel's gaze is unreadable, hair unkempt from your romp, fangs tainted with your blood.

He looks away from you, as he readjusts his pants.

"There's still things to do." He states, and while a normal person would be offended especially after such an intimate fuck, you recognize the offer for what it is.

You smile, pulling your clothes on, wincing as your shirt catches on the swollen skin of your neck.

As if remembering what he did, Miguel approaches you, fingers trailing the skin softly.

You accept the unspoken apology, resting your hand over his.

Something has changed between you, and you know that this won't be the last time you find yourself underneath him. The notion doesn't bother you too much.

© strsburn | all rights reserved

translations ;

cállate la hocico - shut up

quitate la ropa - take off your clothes

cosa bonita - pretty thing

la buena chica - good girl

mi chica bonita - my pretty girl

[iwaasfairy]

big bro iwa who’s in love with making out with his lil sister’s pussy <3

tw incest, hajime nii is a service dom, oral <33

"S-sit shtill," he's slurring into your skin, pulling you down closer with an almost painful grip on your ass. But how can you? It's physically impossible not to squirm when big brother's got his mouth locked like a vice around your clit and all the sucking and wetness coating his chin is enough to have your thighs shaking.

"Niichan, niichan, nii~chan! I'm gonna pass ouw~ t." You're whining loudly, you know you are, but- everything's hazy and your fingers are threading through his full head of hair and you can't stop yourself from sweating and rocking back against his mouth until the friction on your puffy bud becomes too damn much.

If you could open your eyes for longer than a second, you'd be able to see the intensity in Hajime's eyes, and the absolute adoration as he watches every twitch of your brow, or how you force your own finger between your teeth to shut yourself up. You'd be able to see how his hips twitch and smear precum all over the blankets while he buries himself between your legs with a low grunt. "Pass out then," he eventually breathes, letting even the puffs tingle your clit, "I'm not done."

He loves you, you know? Loves laying you down on his bed like this whenever you come over and watching you squirm to get away. But your voice breaks as you let out a desperate squeak, and your back curls off the bed with shuddering thighs. Hajime's tongue rubs over your clit again, before his fingers scissor you open further and more wetness dribbles out of your pretty pussy.

If you're not driving him crazy up the wall, you'd be doing it to someone else. A thought makes his brows furrow, as he watches you, watches the tear tracks wobble down your heated cheeks and your body twitch every time his tongue leaves the nub with a flick. "You know- uhh, ugh- why I'm doing this?"

"Mhm, a sister's pussy is for big brother," you softly mewl, and also shake, and your hands fiddle with the strands of his hair you can read.

"Not that," Hajime nii grunts, curling his fingers deeper inside you and opening wide as his tongue goes to fuck into the drooling hole with a low groan. You taste so fucking good. He'd really stay down here for hours if he could, and it ticks him off that you start getting too overstimulated and fussy after just two orgasms. "Why am I mad?"

Your whining makes way for a beat of silence, though your pussy clenches and sucks his tongue like you never want to let him go. You might pretend to be any better off than him, but you're just as twisted. A real brother fucker, getting the sheets this drenched. It almost distracts him from your little "Oh."

"Yeah. Oh." You try to right yourself onto an elbow and lift yourself from the bed, but he gets up and yanks your waist along with him so you fall back, and his biceps bulge as your legs hook over his shoulder. The sucking of your little clit has your eyelids fluttering so hard you look like you're gone. "You don't know what you're doing. Why even try to touch yourself, stupid shitty sister. This is my pussy. Mine."

"'m sorry~" you whine, and your tone says it all. You're going to cum, again, and soak his face like he wants, needs you to. Long days of work only feel earned when he can sink his fat cock into that hot, little clutch. Why don't you get that. "Ah, ah, niichan. Wan'it, wan- mh-agh, gonna cum Hajime nii~" So cute. So pretty. Your pussy's clenching against his mouth, so hot and soft on his tongue, so needy-

He lets you ride yourself against his mouth until you start wiggling, and then he clamps his lips around that little bud and sucks, hard. Until you're cumming all over him, and he places patient kisses onto your hooded nub until you stop shaking and crying. "How many times do I have to tell you? If your body feels weird, what do you do?"

"Wake up- Haj' niichan. Niichan will fix 't."

[ohbo-ohno]

Johnny being allowed to fuck but not cum all week because he pissed simon off, he tries bargaining with reader at one point to just - ease the cockring off , simon won't notice it'll be fine. Reader doesn't even have a chance to consider it before Johnny ripped out of her and is muzzled because bad dogs need to keep quiet

hm. you shot me dead with this one. like. what am i supposed to do with myself now?

1.4k of smut below the cut. cw: rough puppy play, itty bitty tiny second of cbt, edging/denial, simon is real real mean to johnny

something about johnny being in trouble and not being allowed to cum in you but trying anyway.... oh he's horrible

maybe this is after he was a little too rough with you (like that ask where he fucked up your wrist, or something similar) and he's in deep shit with simon. not only is he allowed to fuck you, simon makes him fuck you at least once a day. lines up behind johnny and moves his hips for him, doesn't even let him thrust on his own, guides every tiny little twitch. tugs him out right at the last second, makes johnny watch as he comes inside you. spends the whole time calling him bad, says if he could just learn to fucking listen for once he could mount you properly

johnny spends the whole week in misery. guy can barely sit down, he just wants to hump fucking everything. simon tells him he can't sit on the furniture when he's so drippy :( makes him sit on the floor instead - or he can let you clean johnny up, but no coming. does he want to be edged again or kneel between his legs like the mutt he is?

jacks him off in the shower in the morning, stopping right before he comes. leaves him crying and makes johnny wash his hair. has you cockwarm him for a bit, to make sure he stays completely hard. makes johnny eat you out til you're nearly knocked out, jacks him off slowly and stops every time you come.

he's nearly done with his punishment when he fucking breaks. it's a night simon isn't meant to be home until after midnight. you'd gone to bed earlier than johnny, wake up to him at you back, nose nudging your cheekbone and hard cock thrusting against your back.

"just gonna- just gonna fuck you, bonnie, 'k?"

"johnny?" you murmur, still half asleep. "but... simon said-"

"simon isn't fucking here," he snarls back, and you feel his bared teeth press against his shoulder. "he won't know. i'll be quick, ok, lass? just gotta... gotta cum, then you go back to sleep, yeah?"

"johnny," you'd whine again, getting a little squirmy in your spot as you feel his hands work at his own dick, then feel him start to slide in without any prep. "john- ow..."

"hush," he breathes heavily in your ear, hips already starting to work. you can feel how quickly his heart beats against you back. "i'll eat you out after, just let me... just..."

he doesn't speak after that, and neither do you. he's fast, needy, you can tell he's only gonna last a few minutes. you're still half-asleep, lost in the comforting warmth of your blankets and pillows, can't do anything but lay limp like a doll for him and relish in the pleasure.

you don't hear simon come in. one minute johnny is thrusting away inside of you, the next he's being ripped off, a sharp yelp coming from his lips followed by a long drawn out whine.

"bad fucking boy," you hear simon snarl over your shoulder, the sound of a slap echoing through the air. "you that fucking lost in your instincts, dog? can't think with nothin' but your dick - you see a pussy and fuck it, that's it huh? can't even listen to a simple command from your master. useless mutt."

you turn your head to the side, sleep clearing from your head at the sight of johnny crumpled to his knees, simon tall and proud above him. you can see the shine of tears on johnny's cheeks with the little light from the doorway.

"simon- simon-"

"no," simon's tone is merciless, his boot coming to rest on johnny's rock-hard dick and pushing down. "that's not what bad boys get to call me."

another whine, a plaintive "master..."

you see johnny's hips work a little, tiny thrusts against the sole of the boot. simon's scowl grows, backhanding johnny with bruising force and sending him sprawling to the floor. "why are you speaking? dogs don't fucking talk."

he stares down at johnny for another moment, both of them taking great heaving breaths. finally, he sighs loud and angry. "fine. i was going easy on you, mutt, was tryin' to be nice. but clearly you don't deserve nice."

he stalks over to their closet, yanking open a drawer you know holds the mean toys - the ones you don't like nearly as much as the others. he grabs something silver and shiny, storm back over to johnny and hauls him up by the hair.

johnny scrambles to follow, but simon doesn't give him a chance to stand. just drags his weight to the bed, throws him onto his back nearly on top of your legs.

you squeak a little, simon's aggressive energy something you're not entirely comfortable being so close to. you curl your legs up, folding into a little ball against the pillows as you stare at the two of them with wide eyes.

simon glances over to you at the sound, eyes softening behind his mask immediately. "oh, love, you're not in trouble. you couldn't stop the mutt from fucking you, huh? don't worry. we'll get him punished and i'll take care of you."

johnny whines again and starts wiggling around, eyes squeezed shut as his hips desperately thrust, looking for any sort of sensation. simon's attention slams back to him, a growl rumbling from his throat as he cups johnny's dick in one hand.

"gotta get you soft, dog," he growls, and you see his hand moving around a bit until he's got johnny's balls in a vice-grip. "the ring wasn't enough for a horny bitch like you, we'll see how you like the cage."

johnny's past words, can only writhe on the bed with little animal noises slipping past his lips. simon doesn't give him any leeway, doesn't give him comfort when he starts to sob a little, just keeps squeezing.

once he's apparently soft enough, simon is quick and methodical about locking johnny's cock up. almost impersonal.

"there," he grunts when he stands up to stare down at johnny. he lands a slap to johnny's dick, gets the smaller man jolting and crying out. "in your cage now. you're not sleeping in bed with us people until you prove you can handle it."

johnny hardly struggles as simon forces him to his knees, kicking at his side to guide him to the crate looming in the corner of the room.

just moments later simon's at the bed with you. he tugs the mask off now (knows you like it sometimes, but also knows it scares you a little - rarely wears it outside of punishments) and crawls on top of you, hands soft and slow as he coaxes you to stretch out back on the bed.

"hey, baby," he murmurs, voice low and just for you. "you're a good girl. can't help what the mutt does, huh? i know, i know. i'll take care of you now, fuck you right."

there are whines from the corner as simon flips you onto your stomach. he lifts you up to your knees, everything soft as he rubs your pussy a few times before slipping his cock into you.

he's always so heavy. you sink further into the bed when he gives you his weight, little moan slipping past your lips as your eyes roll back in your head. johnny gets louder.

"yeah, there you go. good girl, baby, so good for me, huh?"

simon fucks you deep and slow. no rush whatsoever, just nice and languid. you'd probably fall asleep if not for johnny's increasingly desperate noises, the sound of his crate rocking against the wall as he does something in there.

at one point simon sighs all annoyed into your ear, pulls out without warning. you whine and he pets a hand over your hair, whisps "just give me a second, doll, gotta shut the dog up and then i'll finish you off" before walking away.

you don't open your eyes, but you hear simon moving around the room. hear him spit, "makin' me fucking muzzle you because you can't shut up. nothing but a goddamn animal, are you?"

when simon fucks you again, johnny is silent.

he brings you to a slow and easy orgasm, fingers stroking at your achy clit. finishes inside you at nearly the same time.

he tucks you into his arms after, curls you into him and sighs, the sound all satisfied man. you fall asleep like that, johnny's predicament the furthest thing from your mind.

[d0youc0py]

I am ✨obsessed✨ with your page rn and would absolutely devour literally anything you give us.

I’d love to see your take on a kidnap/break in fic though!

Something like they’re coming home from deployment and their girlfriend/wife calls them (or laswell) freaking out about a weird car outside, or someone following them home.

Just damsel in distress x protective husband vibes all the way 💕

“If we’re gonna go after them we’ve got to do it tonight. They’re expecting us to wait till they get further south.”

“What about all the civilians in the city?”

“No explosives. Everyone keep your silencers on. They won’t know till mornin’.”

“Ghost has a point. If we wait till next week our chances of hittin’ ‘em are slim. They aren’t expecting it now.”

“Yeah, they aren’t expecting it because it’s too damn risky. We do it tonight they have home advantage. We wait- all of us are on an even playing field.”

“They outnumber us 10-1. We’ll never be even.”

A knock at the door halted the conversation. A errand boy stuck his head in.

“Sorry to interrupt but this came for Lieutenant Ghost. Labeled urgent.” He held out a yellow package for Ghost.

“Thanks.” Price nodded his head, politely dismissing him.

“Johnny I’ve dealt with groups like this before.” Ghost spoke tearing open the flap of the package. “We need to get ‘em while their sitting pretty.” He blindly reached his hand into the package, his brow furrowing when he touched something soft. He pulled out a clump of hair.

His right leg gave out and he grabbed the table to steady himself.

“Ghost?” Price questioned. He gripped Ghost arms to steady him- and also urge him to give him an answer.

“No.” Ghost mumbled. He ripped open the rest of the package frantically searching for any sign that this was a prank. It couldn’t be real. Couldn’t be. “No.” He growled out. He pushed his way out the door his whole body shaking from anger and distress. The rest of the 141 followed quickly behind him. “Laswell.” She jumped as the door slammed open. “What the fuck is this?” The sight of him was enough to send a spike of fear through her heart. He threw the package with your hair on the table in front of her.

“Oh no.” Her eyes were wide and she wracked her brain for any answer she could give him.

“You said it would be alright.” He was seething at the point. Tears welled up in his eyes and he couldn’t be bothered to hide them. The air felt like it was being choked out of the room. Everyone’s skin was crawling. “You said they couldn’t trace her.”

Laswell looked over at Price for some relief, but he had not the slightest clue as to what was going on- or how to fix it. Just that Ghost was more worked up than he’d ever seen. Even Soap was shifting nervously from foot to foot.

“What going on?” Price asked. Ghost growled not answering the question, his eyes still trained on Laswell.

“I didn’t think they could.” She said calmly. “I didn’t enter it into the computer- it’s in your file, but not electronically.”

“Someone clarify what’s going on.” Price snapped.

“Ghost, let’s not jump to conclusions. Are we even sure this is Y/N’s hair?” Laswell tried to soothe.

“You think I don’t know my wife’s hair?” Ghost gritted. Wide eyes and jaws hung open around the room.

“Wife?” Soap whispered.

“Yes, my wife.” Ghost affirmed. “After I had that accident a few months ago I thought it would be a good idea to finally make her my emergency contact. So if I died she wouldn’t be locked up in the house waitin’ for me.” He explained. “You told me it was safe.”

“It is. They had to have gotten her info somewhere else.” Laswell insisted. “I’ll start tracking her down. You need to calm down.”

“Fuck off.” Ghost sneered. Price gave him a warning shoulder shove.

“We’ll go see if we can find anything on our end.” Price sighed.

•••••••••••

It only took an hour to find you. Gaz was able to PinPoint your location- conveniently the sight they were debating on hitting tonight. They could barely keep up as Ghost began to load up. The odds weren’t great for them. They knew they were coming, they were outnumbered and they had a hostage- who they knew at least one of the team members would die for in a heartbeat.

“Ghost you need to keep your cool. Stick to the plan. You can’t help her if you’re dead.” Price was trying to talk him through it. Ghost had completely shut down. He’s had nightmares just like this before. You being tortured- just the way he had been. He swallowed back bile just thinking about it. He paced back and forth on the plane, growling and grumbling like a caged bear.

They were ready for the 141. All waiting patiently in their places ready to take down the infamous task force. Smirks spread across their faces and they could practically taste the celebratory dinner that awaited them. What they weren’t ready for was the absolute hell that was about to be unleashed on them.

They all had just stepped off the plane before Ghost was blowing through people like they were paper. Soap would bet his life on the fact that he saw Ghost go through a wall at one point. He wasn’t sticking to the plan. He was moving at inhuman speed. It was impossible to keep up with him.

“Found her. Back building, fourth floor second door on the left.” Soap’s voice rang through the comms.

“Hey, I’m a friend of Ghost’s.” Johnny spoke softly. You seemed to be relatively unharmed. When Johnny pried open the door he caught a glimpse of you diving under a small cot- your hair peaking out from under it.

“I’ve told you I don’t know who that is.” You murmured. He could hear the fear in your voice. Johnny sat down a few feet away from the bed.

“Oh right.” He whispered. “A friend of Simon’s.” Soap corrected. Your head peaked out from the bed. You had a bruise on your cheek- a slap mark?

“Simon?” You repeated slowly. Soap nodded his head. “Johnny?” You asked. Soap smiled.

“So he does talk about me.” His humor was wasted on you, but it did calm you a bit. Suddenly Ghost practically tumbled through the door. You shrieked not realizing who it was and dove back under the bed.

“Sweetheart.” Ghost quickly ripped off his mask, (not wanting to scare you more) laying on his stomach to get a look at you. You shot out from under the bed wrapping every limb you could around him. His hand gripped the back of your head pressing your forehead against his lips. “I’m sorry.” He pressed a few quick kisses against your head, before pulling away, worried eyes scanning all over you.

“I’m fine.” You assured. You had been lucky- well as lucky as one could be in this situation. Your worst wound was a slap to the cheek and a shitty haircut. The worst part was the fear. Fear of what they would do to you. Now that Simon was here you were at ease. His fingers skimmed over your cheek. “Got that because I bit a chunk out of someone’s hand.” You smirked.

“Good Girl.” He growled, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “We’ve got to get out of here, yeah? I’m goin’ put my mask back on and you’re going to stay between me and Johnny, understand?” You nodded your head, while Johnny was still reeling from all the affection Ghost had displayed.

Safe to say the mission was a success.

*ring*

“Sweetheart?”

You thank the stars above that John always picked up on the first ring.

“Not to worry you”-

“You need me to come get you?”

“No, can you meet me somewhere? There’s a red car that’s been following me and I don’t want to lead it to our house.” You explained, checking in your rearview mirror. Sure enough, a bright, red sports car was bearing down on you.

“Go to the coffee shop. Don’t park until you see my car in the parking lot. Don’t hang up either.”

“Affirm.” You snickered. John was in absolutely no mood to joke with you. You could hear the sound of his car starting.

“Hope I don’t have to get in a fight tonight. Only wearing my boxers and a shirt.” He wasn’t trying to be funny, but it still made you laugh.

“Could’ve thrown a pair of pants on.” You commented.

“If the difference between you being worm food and you being alright was me wrestling with a pair of jeans I’d never forgive myself.” He grumbled.

“I’ll be fine John. Captain’s coming to save me.” Normally he would melt at that but he was too focused dodging in and out of cars. You could hear a horn from over the phone. “Please be safe.” You sighed. “I’m here.” He said suddenly. Your eyes glanced to your phone. You had only been on the phone for seven minutes and it took at least fifteen to get to the coffee shop from your house.

“Don’t worry about it.” He said as if he could read your mind.

“It’s still following me John.” You whispered. Your fingers dug nervously into the steering wheel.

“Don’t get scared on me now, Sweetheart. How far away are you?”

“Ten minutes?” You weren’t entirely sure. “I can take a shortcut through the neighborhood.”

“No.” He interjected. “Stay on main roads with traffic. Doesn’t matter how long it takes for you to get here, just make sure you stay with people.” You nodded your head. “You hear me?”

“Yes sorry. I nodded my head but you couldn’t see that.”

“I’m standing outside the car. Pull up next to me, don’t get out, I’ll get your door for you.” He had his Captains voice on. You wondered if this was how team briefings went.

“You always get my door for me.” You smiled.

“Damn right I do.” He scoffed. “But it’s important this time. I don’t just want to leave your car in the lot because who knows what type of things they’ll put on it.”

“Like a tracker?”

He hummed in agreement.

“You’re scaring me John.” You gulped.

“Don’t need to be scared. I won’t let anything happen to you, you know that. Just want you to be aware of what’s gonna happen when you park. Just stay in your car, yes?” His voice was calm. Like he had done this a million times before. You nodded your head again. “Did you nod your head again?” You swore you could hear a chuckle.

“Yes, sorry. I understand.” Time seems to slow as you finally pulled into the cafe parking lot. It hadn’t closed yet people still wandering in and out even as the sun has set. You were surprised no one noticed the large man in a pair of light blue boxers and white t-shirt. A t-shirt so thin you could see his chest hair. You did as he told and pulled up right next to him. The red car pulled in right next to you. Your eyes quickly fled to your left to look at John. He had a look on his face you weren’t familiar with.

The sound of the red car door opening caught your attention. A medium sized man stepped out. He just looked greasy. He shut his door and began walking over to your side of the car, seemingly not noticing John.

John met him in the middle, using one hand to grab him by his shirt and slam him against the hood of his own car. You covered your mouth, your eyes going wide. John’s face hovered over his. You couldn’t hear anything that was said, but when John finally let him go the man scrambled to get back into his severely dented car. John stood at the front of the car as he started it up and ripped out of the parking lot.

John tapped at your window signaling for you to unlock your door.

“You alright?” He checked, crouching down to your level. You eyes were still wide and you slowly nodded.

“What did you say?” You mumbled. John took your shaky hands with his, pressing a kiss against your palms.

“That’s a secret.” He smirked. “Didn’t scare you too bad did I?” He asked softly. His brows furrowed and he ran a hand up and down your arm.

“Honestly?”

His face paled. He hadn’t thought about scaring you. He didn’t think he acted too rash. In fact he was holding back.

“Honestly.” He affirmed.

“That was really hot.” You admitted, a hot blush across your face. His face went blank for a moment before a wide smirk crossed his face.

“Then we better get home.” He murmured, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. “Safe to drive?”

“Yes!” You said a little too enthusiastic.

You’re so sweet! I absolutely loved this request and probably went a little overboard. I was only able to fit Ghost and Price in this but would gladly do this with the rest of the 141 and other cod characters! Hope you liked it and thank you for making my day!

[tomieafterdark]

Toxic!Eren drabble (18+ minors dni) 

Synopsis: you want to break up but your bf is too toxic to allow that. 

Recently I had a conversation with someone and it kind of inspired this drabble (If you feel like Eren is not like canon Eren here, it is because his personality here is also based on whoever inspired this smut), except he did not fuck me after saying he would leak shit if i backstabbed him. Also a tiny disclaimer: I feel like this is obvious but I will say it anyway, everything written in this is purely fictional and should be kept that way. If anyone tries this with you in real life, get help. This is also not an accurate representation of my dynamic with whoever this smut is based on, he just has his “moments” and I like making smut out of them. That is all.

About ten minutes ago, you told Eren you wanted to break up. Things aren’t working out, and he’s way too much for you right now. Instead of having a normal reaction, he does the unthinkable—threatening to leak certain information about you and certain pictures.

It hurts you deeply, not to the core but close enough. Trust isn’t easy to build up, and it was even worse for you considering your past wounds that still haven’t healed. Every bit of trust you had built up just shattered in that moment, as if it was never there to begin with. 

He is dangerously good with words, sometimes it makes you feel like you’re his puppet and he pulls the strings whenever he wants to. Even if you can resist his words, his intense stare will pull you in instead. He has the most beautiful eyes, of course no one can resist their pull. 

When you were upset about him threatening to leak your information and photos, he just started pulling the strings without a care in the world which is what led you here; back arched, face buried in the plushie, whimpering and crying as he pounds you with no mercy. 

Your mind is foggy, you still haven’t processed the words that came out of his mouth when you wanted to break up. You did not, in a million years, expect those words to come out of him. It pretty much feels like a knife to your throat. Just as you are about to get lost in thought and perhaps cry some more, he grabs a handful of your hair and pulls on it harshly. 

“Get a grip.” He says coldly and lets go of your hair. 

You try to argue back, but he is 5 steps ahead and starts circling your clit before you even open your mouth. Whatever you were wanting to say just comes out as incoherent blabbers and whimpering as your insides squeeze tighter around him. He chuckles in response and mutters “that's what I thought” under his breath.

Since he is 5 steps ahead he is also aware you will cum any second now, which is why he switches positions quite hastily. He has your legs resting behind your ears as he teases your entrance by barely giving you the tip. He knows you get needy and will do or say anything to cum. You look up at him, that smug sadistic look on his face puts you in subspace faster than you can blink. At this point he practically got what he wanted, you won't want a breakup after this. Whatever else he does to you is just for fun. 

“Please..” you plead, looking up at him with puppy eyes. You had cried so much earlier that your face was glowing from it.  

“Repeat what you were telling me earlier babe,” he says while continuing to tease your sensitive entrance with the tip. “Tell me how I am too much for you and how you don't want to continue this!” You can hear the anger in his voice now, he does not take kindly to breakups unless he is the one doing it. This was peak betrayal to him. 

Something about him turns you into a horny nymph, even though this was your chance to resist and actually break up with him, your body and mind were both betraying you completely. You were so desperate for him, being manhandled and fucked disrespectfully hard by him was the only thing on your mind right now. His firm grip on your thighs, as he was pushing them back further, was not helping. He could feel your pussy squeezing and fluttering around his tip, even if you were not saying a word right now the rest of your body was very loud and clear. 

You feel your eyes watering again, from the frustration this time. It doesn't help that he is staring right into them, all while caressing your face. Staring into his eyes, especially with the state you are currently in felt like a trance. You were so lost in his eyes, you weren't even aware of how you were trying your best to move against his tip, completely desperate for any friction you could get.    

You have no idea how much your crying turns him on, same with your frustration and desperation. It was about time he reminded you again of how badly you need him, a reminder that no one but him could get you to act like this just for dick. He was equally desperate for you, probably more frustrated than you but he is so stoic and cold on the outside. You would never know. He had enough of messing with you though, and by the looks of it you were nearing your edging limit. 

His right hand lets go of your thigh, creeping up to your neck instead. He keeps eye contact as he chokes you very lightly. He is so close to your face, staring deep into your eyes with a predatory look. It makes you shudder, but it also makes you want to spread your legs even more for him. 

The way he suddenly bottoms out fully, with no warning, has you seeing stars. You had been in this position with previous partners, but none of them reached this deep inside of you. You have to bite your cheek to not scream, especially when you look down on your stomach for a split second and you can see his dick print on it. You suddenly remember that back when you had just gotten to know each other, you texted him saying you want him in your guts. Looks like you got what you wished for. 

He chokes you harder while pushing your head back, making you look right into his eyes again. His stare is so intense, you want to look away sometimes. His stare made you feel so vulnerable and exposed, it cut right through all your layers and saw right through your soul. It would not be too far off to say his eyes were fucking your soul. 

“I-I’m gonna cum-” you whimper, struggling to keep eye contact. You know exactly what you have to say next if you don't want him to suddenly stop and edge you even more.

“I’m sorry for causing unnecessary drama-” you cry out. “I-I was wrong..I do not want to break up..I love you!” 

“That's right.” He smiles and starts thrusting into you even harder, he drops eye contact now and the focus shifts to between your legs. He is obsessed with how you take all of him in so well, he loves watching you swallow him whole and he especially loves that you are so sensitive that you quiver and squeeze around him at every movement he does. 

He doesn't stop fucking you when you cum. Not even slowing down the pace. 

Instead, both his hands are on your hips now slamming you against his pelvis. You keep squirting, but he doesn't stop even for a second. You are so overstimulated at this point, every few thrusts make you cum all over him. 

You are close to tapping out at this point, eyes rolling at the back of your head. You are in safe hands though, he may be toxic and not allow you to break up because he is too possessive and wants to almost own you, but with that comes him being extremely careful of you. He pulls out and slaps you lightly to wake you up, fully attentive of you now. 

“Babe, are you okay?” He asks, albeit in a cold uncaring tone, but that's just how he sounds in general. He really does care.  

He comes back and slaps you again lightly, holding a glass of water in his other hand. You wake up this time. 

You don't really say anything when you regain consciousness nor do you drink the water, you just mumble “I am fine” under your breath and start straddling him. There is something about his caring nature that turns you on so much, his attention to detail is already attractive as it is but when it shows like this during sex it just makes you want him on a different level. 

The breakup was history at this point, now you were on top of him whispering dirty things in his ears. You wanted him to fill you to the brim with his cum, then fuck you with all the cum in you and cum in you some more. You had never met a guy that unlocked this side of you, it feels unreal, he is so perfect it drives you mad. 

“Please fill me up, I need you so bad..” You were crying in his ears as you quickly slid his cock inside of you, wasting no time and starting bouncing on it. “I truly am sorry for earlier, I could never be without you!” 

He is both amused and extremely turned on by your behavior, mostly turned on though as he wastes no time, putting you on your back with your legs on his shoulders. Eren had no idea how hot he looked, the sounds he was making was music to your ears. You were staring in awe as he came inside of you. 

You truly can't get enough of him, so when he collapses next to you on the bed, you crawl over to him licking him clean hoping it will lead to a round two in the shower perhaps. 

Author's note: I did not proofread this. If you find any mistakes, take it to the grave pls. 

© 2024 tomieafterdark | All rights reserved

[enid-rhees]

hiii i was wondering if i could request a hazel x reader fic where isabel hosts a party and the fight club all play seven minutes in heaven and reader gets paired with hazel and things get a lil hot n heavy

omg yes yes i love this sm !! tysm for your request anon <3 !!

— warnings: heavy make out session, nothing too spicy [MINORS DNI]

— a/n: i am now officially writing for Hazel 🫶🏻

“what are we? TWELVE?” Josie shouted, as PJ just suggested you all try to play Seven Minutes in Heaven.

Isabel had thrown a party only days after the fight on the field, and everyone in the fight club was invited. you took a seat next to Brittany, but also directly across from Hazel.

from your observation, she looked nervous, like she didn’t want to be here. you guessed that parties like this weren’t her thing, and they weren’t yours either.

she looked over at you, your eyes meeting. but you immediately broke your eyes away from hers, putting your attention back on PJ.

“oh c’mon! don’t be like that, it’ll be fun!” PJ argued back, “we have enough people! pleaseee!”

“okay! fine! let’s play it.” Josie finally gave in, sitting down next to Isabel. you chuckled at the small bicker, shaking your head slightly.

Isabel placed an empty beer bottle in the center of the circle. “so whichever two people it lands on, they have to go inside that bedroom,” she pointed to a bedroom behind Hazel, “and spend seven minutes inside of there. and don’t be fucking lame and sit in silence.”

you took a deep breath and crossed your legs, leaning your arms on your knees and holding your head up on the back of your hands. Isabel spun the bottle, and it rotated around everyone, and then slowed down, eventually landing on… Hazel.

Hazel stared at the bottle with a blank expression while everyone started to cheer. meanwhile, your heart has dropped. the thought of Hazel being with someone else in there hurt just a tiny bit.

“Hazel! you will be going with…” Isabel trailed off as she spun the bottle once more. it felt like an eternity, just watching the bottle spin and spin. you blinked, and suddenly the bottle was on you. “Y/N!”

cheering erupted from the girls once more. you looked up at Hazel, who was blushing profusely. your heart rate sped up, and then Isabel was pulling you up by the hand, pushing you towards Hazel.

“you have seven minutes! no more, no less! and do something good!” she shouted as she pushed the two of you inside the bedroom. she closed and locked the door.

the two of you stood frozen in place, unsure of what to do or say. you swore Hazel might’ve been able hear your heartbeat from how hard it was beating.

“one of us needs to say something.” Hazel pleaded in a whisper. “what am i supposed to say in this situation?” you responded back.

there was a moment of silence before Hazel spoke up again, “i’ve… noticed the way you’ve looked at me before.” you looked away from her when she said that, now looking down at the ground.

Hazel sighed and walked closer to you. she grabbed your face in her hands, forcing you to look her in the eyes again. she pulled you closer, and then your lips met.

it took you a moment to process what was happening, but then you grabbed her waist and kissed back. her lips felt so good on yours, it didn’t even feel real in that moment.

Hazel gently pushed you back until your knees hit the edge of the bed and you fell back on it. she crawled on top of you, keeping you locked in underneath her. your lips reconnected in a messy and needy kiss.

you had spent months fantasizing about this very moment, you underneath Hazel while she kissed you with all she had. your bodies tangled with each other, your hands wandering over her body, just wanting to take in every little bit of Hazel.

she kissed you feverishly, barely breaking apart from your lips to breathe. Hazel didn’t want to lose a second of any minute she would spend in here with you, not knowing if this would be the only time she would ever get to have you like this.

Hazel eventually broke away from you, but only to connect her lips to your neck. the shy, quiet version of Hazel you were so used to seeing had vanished, leaving you quite taken aback at how she was acting right now. you gasped as her lips softly sucked on the skin of your neck.

“Haze,” you whimpered, and she pulled away to look you in the eyes. you tangled your fingers through her hair and pushed her back down onto your lips.

you didn’t want this moment to end. anything to keep kissing Hazel like this, you would do it. she was so addicting, you still couldn’t believe this moment was actually happening.

Hazel’s hands slid under your shirt, and you shivered at how cold they were. she squeezed the skin of your hips, softly kneading the skin. you sighed into her lips, keeping your fingers locked in her hair.

the door suddenly swung open, not giving Hazel any time to pull away from you. all you heard was a screaming cheer in PJ’s voice. “shit, they were actually about to fuck.” Josie exclaimed from beside her.

Hazel crawled off of you and you both stood awkwardly next to each other, despite what just happened not even thirty seconds ago. “your time is up, girls.” Isabel smirked, “but it seemed like you two lost track of time, hm?”

her face turned a bright red while yours burned, and you two were suddenly avoiding eye contact once more. you walked out of the room and she followed seconds later. you leaned against the wall while she stood next to you still.

“i’ve been wanting to do that. for a while now.” Hazel admitted out of nowhere. you looked over at her, smiling slightly. “me too.”

she walked closer to you, now leaning on the wall with you. “you know,” you spoke again, and swallowed a knot in your throat. “we could always… ditch this party and go to my place.”

Hazel stared at you for a moment, before taking your hand in hers and dragging you to the front door, not even bothering to let the girls know that you were leaving.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

The hero didn’t even want to look at it.

“Okay,” the villain said. Despite the tears in their eyes, they were a little too calm for the hero’s liking. But they supposed they had always been the opposite to the hero when it came to stressful situations.

Usually the hero could deal with stress pretty well, they were a hero after all, but it was getting increasingly difficult to operate when neither time nor solutions were on their side. It was frustrating and the hero wasn’t used to losing.

“You have to break my femur now,” the villain said. They looked down at the wound and then at the hero who prayed this was a poorly timed joke. “Remember, it’s the strongest and thickest bone in the body, so you may need quite a bit of force.”

“I am not going to break your bones, I—” The hero wanted to throw up. They could see parts of the injury under all that rubble and they didn’t want to imagine how much pain the villain was in right now. The villain didn’t scream nor curse, they bottled everything up and let tears speak for themselves. They knew the villain was tough. But could anyone be this tough?

It was one of the villain’s qualities they admired oh so much but it was also something that seemed to doom them.

“It’s just one bone. I’d do it myself but the angle is shitty and you’re stronger.”

“No, don’t make me do this.” The villain grabbed the hero’s arm quickly and stared them dead in the eye. Their fingers dug into the hero’s suit but it was just a fraction of the pain the villain endured.

The hero panicked. If they had been any other person — hero or villain — they wouldn’t have hesitated to break the bone. But this was them. They didn’t want to hurt them, they didn’t want to break any of their bones.

“Listen, if we want to save my leg, you have to break it. We don’t have much time. I’m bleeding out and I need some fucking painkillers. I’m not gonna stay here so your hero-friends can arrest me.” Their face was pale and the hero’s tongue was heavy.

“I can’t, please, I cannot do that to you.”

“I’m just another villain on your list to cross out,” the villain said. They squeezed the hero’s arm harder and their eyes widened, as if a wave of pain had just hit them. They made a noise close to a grunt but again, they were hiding it perfectly.

“No, you’re not, you’re really not.”

“If you want to save my life, you’ll have to do this. You’re a hero, aren’t you?” The hero had no words left.

The truth was, they had had a crush on the villain for quite some time now and even though they knew rationally they needed to do this, they weren’t quite there emotionally yet.

“You should get a pipe. You crush the bone and then hopefully, it’ll be easier to pull me out. The angle should be better. I might pass out though, I’ll just…” They didn’t look as confident anymore.

“If we wait for my friends to arrive, they can help you, maybe I can—”

“They will arrest me if I’m not dead by then. I’m counting on you.”

I’m counting on you.

The hero’s fingers trembled. Breaking someone’s bone — they had never done that on purpose. And yet, they knew the villain was right. It seemed to be the only way out for them.

“I called you,” the villain said, “because I trust you. I need you. I’ll do you a favour in return, I promise. Just, please.”

The hero took the villain’s hand and pulled it close to their chest.

“I’ll do it,” the hero said.

“Great.” Unsurprisingly, the villain wasn’t happy. Their other hand was shaking and they looked already traumatised. The hero wished they could make this easier but there didn’t seem to be any options left.

“I’ll just have to tell you something real quick.”

“What?”

“I have a crush on you.” The villain stared at them. They didn’t look mad nor did they look annoyed.

“Wait. Really?”

“Yes.”

The hero just had to tell them. If this was it, if the villain would get captured or worse, if they died, they needed to know that the hero had crush on them.

They wouldn’t be able to deal with that for the rest of their life. So whatever happened now, the villain would live through it, knowing what they meant to the hero.

“This is really bad timing, darling.” Another tear ran down the villain’s cheek. They squeezed the hero’s hand.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll get the pipe.” The hero didn’t find one. Instead, they found a brick. None of them were particularly enthusiastic about that. “Okay. Again, I’m really sorry.”

The hero grabbed the brick with two hands.

“Wait.” The hero did. “I think I like you too.”

“That doesn’t make it easier,” the hero whispered.

“I thought you needed the challenge.” As answer, the hero let out something closer to a sob than a laugh.

What happened next would give them nightmares for the following decades.