#i took this from a friend with consent to post it

[lyninabin]

talking about escape rooms and damian overhears and

damian wayne: see when others pay you to do it its fun and exciting. when I drug some one and lock them in a chest slowly sinking into the Potomac River its a terrifying and unacceptable responce to a minor inconvience

[fabulouslygaybean]

my dad's being all weird about the fact that i don't wanna send him photos of myself in the middle of the school day 😔

[sooniebby]

ఌ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

꧁ 𝙎𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙪 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

w.c. › 4.9k

Plot › if you had told yourself six weeks ago, that you would meet the camboy you’ve been faping for a year, you’d laugh. But meeting Gojo was a curse from God. Part 2 of this post!

Warnings › same as before. Gojo is a little shit and very annoying. A bit of dubious consent at first since reader doesn’t say “yes”. Nothing extreme. How yall not notice the porn I linked in p.1 though? Smh

Kinks › size kink, praise, rough sex, lite dry humping, creampie, manhandling, possessive Gojo, groping, brat behavior from reader, lite dom/sub,

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

“Today’s my lucky day, huh?”

Oh, fuck.

You kinda just… stood there for a few seconds, staring at Gojo in shock. Before you screamed out in fear and ran into the back room.

So humiliating.

“Hahaha!!! Put your glass back on, your blue eyes scared (Name)!” Nobara laughed, walking to join you in the back room. Megumi only rolled his eyes.

Nobara found you in a fetal position on the ground, rocking back and forth as she stared at you in shock.

“Okay, I know his eyes are freaky but it couldn’t have been that bad,” she said, kneeling down to get on your level. She ‘comfortably’ patted your hair, twirling a few strands around her index finger.

It took a few minutes before you could really open your mouth.

“I…know…him…”

“How? This is his first time here.”

You sat upright, staring Nobara right in the eyes.

“Camboy.”

Nobara was quiet, her eyes slowly widening as she took in the new information. Her mouth opened as a shriek left her mouth.

“No fucking way?! Him?! You’ve seen his dick?!”

“Nobara!!!”

She lowered her voice. “Him? Really? The one I called a 4 inch? He’s…. The one you had the call with? Holy shit! Do you think he remembers you?”

“Hopefully… not.. but he said it’s his lucky day.. do you think…?”

“Maybe he’s still mad over the four inch comment.”

“Uhm.”

“Or maybe he’s upset that you were a guy.”

“I dunno…”

“Oh! Maybe he wants to fuck you.”

“Oh c’mon. Now you’re just saying shit.” You stood up with a grunt. “If I’m lucky, he was just saying something about getting a discount. Can you do the cake for him? I really don’t wanna talk to him.”

Nobara frowned but didn’t say anything else. She walked away to go do Gojo’s order. It was silent for the most part, the slight muffled voices of Gojo and Nobara talking. Though it seemed Nobara was talking shit about him.

Hopefully, Gojo wouldn’t come here again due to Megumi’s insistence.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“So, can you take my order this time?”

You blinked, staring right at Gojo as he leaned on the counter, grinning at you. It was in the evening and the cafe was mostly empty. So you didn’t feel bad about shaking your head. You had hoped this blue eyed freak would leave you alone but he seemed set on bothering you.

He’d even come on days Megumi wasn’t there yet or was off that day!

You didn’t speak to him directly. Too embarrassed. All you could remember was your desperate moans to know his name. Yup, no way in hell were you going to speak to him.

Nobara came over to the cashier and took over—you didn’t even have to ask. This had been happening for weeks now. Just a simple look was all she needed. Even Inumaki and Megumi knew what to do. Though the two didn’t know why you seemed so adverse to speaking to Gojo.

Megumi believed you hated him for being annoying. He could relate to that.

Inumaki believed Gojo must’ve did something because you hardly hated people.

So he did from time to time purposely put salt in Gojo’s coffee.

And would sometimes put jalapeño seeds into his food.

What could he say? A true friend.

Nobara was the only one to know the truth. And while she did think you were overreacting a bit—she knew how embarrassing your actions were. If you didn’t want to speak to Gojo, so be it. She’s not one to force it.

You were in the back room when Nobara came back, sighing to herself. She plopped down on the chair beside you, staring down at the table before looking over to you.

“That blue eyed slut keeps asking for you it’s annoying.”

“Slut?”

“Affectionately.” She said. “‘Why does he keep ignoring me?’ ‘Why isn’t he speaking to me?’ ‘Let me talk to him.’ ‘Aren’t you his friend?’ Blah blah blaaaah!” She cried, her voice rising in pitch out of frustration as her hands dug into her scalp, moving her hair around.

“What would he even want to talk about?” You whispered to yourself.

“Maybe he’s scared you’re going to tell Megumi.”

“What would I gain from that? The only thing I’ll tell Megumi is to ban him from the cafe.”

Nobara let out a soft huff. “Really though… if he’s making you that uncomfortable, tell Megumi.” She said, her voice suddenly serious. She reached out and rested her hand against yours, squeezing it gently. “You don’t even have to tell Megumi the true reason… he won’t judge. If it comes down to it, we’ll tell Boss.”

She pulled away. Your eyes met hers, a bit shocked at how.. caring she was about the situation. You knew you were overreacting a bit and a normal person would’ve just told Gojo straight up to leave them alone. And you knew she was right.

Megumi wouldn’t judge. He would tell Gojo to stop coming.

But…

It was like you didn’t want him to go for some reason.

In the back of your mind, you truly wanted to know why he kept bothering you.

Was he angry?

Scared you’d tell people?

Well… it couldn’t be good either way.

You just hoped he’d get tired of you soon.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The sound of loud music was beating with your heart as you leaned against the wall. You, Nobara, and a begrudged Megumi were at a newly opened gay club in Shibuya. It was cool for like the first two hours but now your social battery was practically dead.

Megumi was somewhere… you remembered him saying he needed some fresh air.

Nobara was having the time of her life with some girls on the dance floor. Good for her.

You were dressed way more conservatively than most of the people at the club. Just a t-shirt and pants. You weren’t someone to dress up like that. As you drowned your drink and placed it on the bar counter, you asked for some water.

No one was approaching you which was great. You didn’t know if you could handle talking to someone right now.

But that soon changed when someone was suddenly right beside you.

A taller guy, black hair and brown eyes. He seemed to be looking for one thing. You didn’t look his way at first, believing he was just getting a drink until a shot glass was slid over to you.

“What’s a pretty boy like you doing here all alone?”

Typical…

You forced a slight smile. “I’m here with friends. No thanks.” You said, sliding the shot back over to him. He shrugged and took it himself, downing in seconds.

It was quiet for a moment, even though the music still roared in the background. “Would your friends mind if I steal you for a little bit?” He suddenly asked, his lips right near your ears. You flinched but couldn’t help but grin in response.

“Why? Where are you going to take me?”

“Wherever you’d like, baby.” His hand slowly trailed down your shoulders to your hips, lightly squeezing before his finger teased the slight opening in your pants. Since you were so touch starved and the last time a man ever touched you was a hundred years ago, you didn’t push him away at first.

So what? You were desperate at this point.

Dildos get lonely…

“Mhm, I don’t—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence because suddenly the man was… gone? You blinked rapidly before looking around in confusion. Huh?! As you reeled in shock at how fast a man could just disappear, you felt a tug at the belt loop of your pants before the hand grasped it entirely and pulled you out of the club.

“Who?! Dude, you’re going to rip my fucking pants off! Get—”

The fresh air slapped you in the face before you were harshly pushed against the wall of the alleyway. Your eyes saw dark spots before you could fully open them, ready to scream bloody murder before you saw who attacked you.

Fucking Gojo!

You groaned, rolling your eyes as you looked away. No way he found you here! Did Megumi tell him? Nobara? No, they’d never do that to you. Oh… he was a fucking stalker!

But you didn’t get to accuse him as he grabbed your face and forcefully turned it so you would look him in the eye. No, your cock didn’t twitch. You’re just horny.

You didn’t speak. More so just because you knew it pissed him off that you weren’t. So you only gave him your meanest glare and closed your eyes, knowing he wouldn’t pry them open. Only to be wrong because apparently Gojo has no sense of boundaries.

He did force open one of your eyes and you quickly slapped his hand away. Fuck that felt weird. You looked at him shock, the fuck was his problem?

But you weren’t going to speak first! No way. You were going to be petty until the day you died.

Gojo was silent for a moment before groaning, deciding he had to be the one doing the talking.

“What’s your problem?”

“My—?!” You clamped your lips shut. He almost got you there. You reached up and began pushing at his chest but you didn’t even make him budge. Gojo rolled his eyes and grabbed your wrists, with one hand, and pushed them against the wall, right above your head.

“You avoid me like I killed your entire family. What the hell did I do?”

You pursed your lips and shook your head. For the next few minutes, it was Gojo spouting questions and you acting like a child being asked if they were the one who drew on the wall. It would’ve been funny if it wasn’t so stupid.

It took a moment before Gojo was finally giving up. He sighed as his hand released his grip on your wrists. You watched as he pulled away and suddenly, you didn’t want him to do that.

So without thinking, you grabbed the belt loops of his pants and pulled him close. Gojo’s eyes widened, his hands quickly moving to rest on either side of you so he didn’t crush into you. You didn’t like the sad look on his face.

But you were about to regret it as his signature smirk appeared. He leaned in close, his mouth pressing against your ear. His light chuckle sent a shiver down your spine, making you unintentionally arch your back.

“I see how it is… you’re into being a brat, huh?”

You shook your head violently, biting your lip. Okay, you were certainly playing into it. But it was the reason your ex broke up with you so you didn’t exactly like the word used in regards to you.

Something something ex boyfriends suck

You gasped as his leg was shoved between yours, rubbing right against your crotch. It happened so fast you couldn’t even think straight.

“I asked you question. Answer.” He said, pulling away so you could see his face. His blue eyes stared straight into yours, making you squirm in embarrassment. You kept remembering the incident. Cumming just from seeing his face.

Gosh, who can say they’ve done that?!

The only sense of light in the alleyway was the moonlight and the blinking neon sign of the club. It would occasionally light up Gojo’s face and you felt your cock twitch when you got a clear view. His eyes staring you down. Jaw tight. His lips no longer in a smirk. You didn’t know he could look so serious.

His eyebrow raised a bit when you didn’t answer. You wanted to see what he’d do and he was quick to show you. His leg began to rub your crotch but it was slow—way too slow for you to get anything from it. It felt like a taste to what you could truly get if you acted like a good boy.

As your cock began to twitch, straining against your pants, he stopped. You whimpered, staring up at him with pity as he tilted his head.

You knew what you had to do to get what you wanted.

“N…no…” You whispered, shaking your head. He let out a sigh, a hand moving away from the wall as it harshly gripped your face, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“I don’t like liars. Tell me the truth. What happened to the good boy on the call, huh? The one who listened and put on a nice show for me.”

You bit your lip and closed your eyes, not wanting to look him in the eyes. When you felt his hand squeeze your cheeks, you slowly opened them only to see him looking at you with worry.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked.

Did you?

Did you want to stop?

You reached up and placed your hands on his shoulder, leaning up on your toes to press a soft kiss on his lips. It was soft, way too soft compared to the debauchery you two were just participating in.

Gojo eagerly kissed you back, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you closer. He kissed you as if he was hungry. Like if you were to pull away, he’d miss his chance. You moaned into the kiss as he grasped your ass, gripping it tightly before moving downward to grab your legs and hoist you up.

He slammed you against the wall, never pulling away from the kiss as you gripped his hair for some sort of purchase. The innocent kiss you had given him was leaning to pure lust.

His teeth biting your lips, earning little gasps from you. You’d never kissed a man like this before. But even though it was pure lust, you somehow felt loved.

“Ahem..”

You both froze. Gojo was still biting at your lip as you both glanced to your right to see a pissed off Megumi.

“I called you to take me home, not fuck my friend.”

Gojo pulled away, though his hand still held you up, “Megumi~~ sorry! I just got caught—”

“—fucking my friend? C’mon, I found Nobara.” Megumi stormed away while you felt like jumping off the nearest bridge.

Jesus Christ!! You might as well replace your middle name with “Embarrassment!”

Gojo only chuckled slightly as he pulled out his car keys and placed it in your hand. He gently placed you back on your feet. “Go to the car, I’ll join you guys in a minute.”

“What are you doing?”

He simply smirked. “Taking out some trash.”

He was so weird…

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Nobara was conked out in the spare bedroom while Megumi slept on a futon in the same room. Gojo had driven you three to his apartment. It was actually quite nice. You wondered what his actual job was because you knew being a cam boy couldn’t actually pay that well.

While Gojo was looking for some spare clothes for you, you decided to take a look around. You found his office and instantly knew this was where he did his cams. It was surreal seeing it in person.

As you closed the door, you shrieked when you came face to face with Gojo. He was smirking, handing you a pair of pajamas he found that could possibly found you.

“How was it?”

“How was what?”

He rolled his eyes. “The room. Better in person?”

You simply let out a huff. “Where’s the bathroom? I’ll change in there.”

“No need—change in my room. You’ll be sleeping there anyway.”

And then he just walked to his room. You stood there for a moment, mouth agape. Sleep? Sleeping? In there? His room?!

If there wasn’t two people already sleeping you would’ve screamed.

You slowly followed behind him, unable to stop the steady rise of your heartbeat. Your stomach felt weird, slightly churning as you thought about what could happen. But it didn’t feel like anxiety, more so like excitement. Though you couldn’t fight back the slight feeling of nausea.

You haven’t slept with someone in over a year.

And Gojo was so experienced.

Would he compare you to others?

Would you disappoint him?

You suck at giving blowjobs, haven’t gotten out of the habit of not using teeth. Your ex complained about that all the time.

Has he even fucked a guy before?

All these thoughts rushed in your head before you bumped right into something. You glanced up, grinning shyly as Gojo raised an eyebrow. His hands gripped your shoulder as he leaned down a bit to look you right in the eye.

“What’s wrong? Nervous?”

You couldn’t find it in yourself to lie. So you mutely nodded.

Gojo chuckled slightly, his hand moving up to lightly caress your cheek. “Don’t be. I’ll lead.”

His hand slowly slid down, his thumb lightly teasing your lips. It pulled down at your bottom lip before he switched to his index and middle finger. They pushed your lips apart before inching their way inside your mouth. It took a moment for you to not push them out—getting used to the odd feeling of them.

Slowly, you lightly suckled on them, closing your eyes to try and keep calm. More than likely, he was going to finger you open. And you felt your cock twitch at the thought.

You almost completely lost yourself, not even noticing the stuttered breath Gojo let out. Your eyes opened slightly, looking up at him hooded eyelids. He almost looked possessed. His throat bobbed as his lips pulled into a slight snarl.

You pulled away, taking his fingers out of your mouth. “What’s wrong…?”

“I wish it didn’t take me so long to fuck you.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“Jeez, you’re tight, (Name), you don’t stretch yourself often?”

The sound of your muffled whimpers was filling the room, moonlight seeping through the curtains as you tried to keep still. You were sitting on Gojo’s lap, your legs spread open as he fingered you. His fingers stretched you deeper than you thought was possible.

Your back pressed against his chest as you had your hand clamped around your mouth. You only imagined his hands inside you. Especially during his streams. It was almost like a fantasy that it was happening right now.

That he actively sought after you.

“If they weren’t here,” he muttered, most likely referring to Megumi and Nobara, “I wouldn’t have allowed you to hide those pretty little sounds.”

You felt yourself blush.

He finds your moans pretty?

If you weren’t too busy moaning, you would’ve been giggling.

His fingers stretched you slowly and methodically, rubbing against your wet walls as if searching for something. You wondered if he was having trouble reaching your prostate. So you shuffled a bit, thinking maybe it was the angle you were sitting in that was giving him trouble.

“Uncomfortable?” He suddenly asked, his fingers stopping.

“Oh.. no… thought you… were having trouble reaching my.. uhm, prostate.”

“I wasn’t. I know where it is.” You felt his finger brush against it, causing you to whimper. “I’m avoiding it on purpose.”

“W..why..?”

A light chuckle left him as he rested his chin on your shoulder, looking down at your nude lower half. He hummed slightly, his free hand trailing downward to tease your leaking cock. It was still taking you some getting used to being fully nude while he was still dressed.

“Because of this.”

Suddenly, his fingers began to harshly target your prostate. Rubbing and teasing it relentlessly. Your body arched against him, toes curling as you screamed out. It was inhumane at how he was able to keep the fast pace with just his fingers.

No wonder those girls in the video practically screamed when he fingered them.

His free hand grasped your cock, thumb lightly teasing your sensitive tip. The constant between the harsh thrusts and slow, sensual movements on your cock was something you never felt before. Your hands gripped at everything beneath you—bedsheets, your leg, but soon found purchase gripping his thigh.

Wow, how often does he work out?

You couldn’t dwell too much on it as you began to feel the familiar sensation in your body. Your cock leaking pre-cum all over your tummy. But just as you almost reached your peak, it was over.

His fingers pulled out.

“Wha…?” You muttered, chest heaving as you glanced over at him.

Gojo only patted your thighs before motioning for you get off. You hesitantly stood up, legs feeling entirely like jelly as you watched him pull down his pants, his cock sprinting out.

It was huge.

That seven inch dildo certainly came in handy…

His cock was possibly close to eight. Seeing it in person was different from any video or live stream. The veins and just how much thicker it was.

“Condom.” He whispered, pointing at the nightstand beside the bed. He began to lightly stroke his cock, spreading the pre-cum leaking from his tip.

You didn’t move to get the condom. He didn’t use condoms when fucking those girls. Why did he need to use one with you?

There was some weird surge of jealousy within you. And it wasn’t because he fucked other people.

It was because he wasn’t going to cum inside you.

Well, what if you wanted that?

“Mhm, no.” You replied, pushing his hand away from his cock.

Gojo raised an eyebrow at this, watching as you moved to sit down on his lap. You grasped his cock and placed it right between your ass, lightly teasing your puckered hole. Your free hand gripping tightly at his shoulder, balancing yourself a bit.

“You cum in all those girls.” You whispered, smirking slightly as you leaned in. “What if I want it too?”

A laugh left Gojo as his hands reached over and grasped your waist, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. You were sure this was going to leave a mark. Any sort of control you just tried to hold was pushed away by Gojo.

“Aw~ it’s okay, baby. You’ll be replacing those girls, no need to think about ‘em anymore.”

“Wh—?”

You screamed out as he pulled you down onto his cock. Your face squinted in pain as you whimpered and squirmed, trying to get used to his cock. It was different seeing it than feeling it stretch you whole. No wonder he spent a good amount of time stretching you out.

Gojo kept his grip on you tight as he bounced you up and down on his cock. You didn’t get no say in how he got to use you. Your voice filled the room, you forgot all about keeping quiet by this point.

“Ngh, sorry, hate this position.”

You didn’t even get to answer him back when you were suddenly picked up from off his cock and dropped onto the bed. You were now on your knees as he got behind you. His cock teased your hole for just a moment before he slammed right back inside.

Your face squished against the bed as his hands moved downward, gripping your ass tightly as he began massaging it. His cock stretched you fool, easily rubbing against your prostate with each thrust.

It was better than any dildo.

“You don’t even know… how much I masturbated to your moans,” he suddenly said.

You almost didn’t hear him at first. “H..hng..?”

“I recorded the sound of your moans during the call. How could I not when it made me cum so fast,” he reached down, pressing his chest against your back. He angled his hips against your ass and began thrusting again, his cock continuously rubbing right against your prostate.

You tried to say something but the only sound that left you was cries of pleasure. The sounds of skin slapping and your whimpers filled the room.

It was weird, totally. But…

You’d look past it.

Dick too good, y’know?

“Then you came from just seeing my face.” He chuckled slightly. “Knew I couldn’t let you get away but you blocked me everywhere.”

He pulled away slightly, his thrusting coming to a pause. You whimpered in disappointment, glancing back at him. Gojo grinned slightly as he grabbed your arms, pulling them back a bit before sliding down to grasp your hands.

The position wasn’t comfortable at all, having your hands behind your back. You couldn’t hold up your face anymore, being forced to just let it lay on the sheets.

“Imagine my luck when I saw you again. You’re prettier in person.” His hips slammed against your ass, earning a scream from you. But he didn’t move again, leaving you to calm down from the harsh thrust.

“But then you ignore me.” He muttered. “Thought I was going to have to give up on you… but today was my lucky day. Just had to throw that guy away and you were mine.”

You felt your cock twitch.

His?

You were his.

He released his grip on your hands and pulled out again. You didn’t even get to whine this time as you were flipped onto your back, staring at him now. He crawled over you, his cock easily sliding back inside. You wrapped your legs around his waist to hold him close.

“Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours…” You whispered, “won’t… run away anymore… promise.”

Gojo grinned slightly as he leaned down to press a kiss on your forehead. His hand patted your head, his finger twirling a strand of your hair. Seeing him like this, so soft compared to his camboy persona was out of a dream.

“I’ll be nice—since it’s our first.” He sat back, his hands reaching down to rest on the curve of your hips.

As he began to slowly thrust inside of you, you couldn’t help but sigh. It felt nice. The soft rhythm of his cock going in and out. But it soon started to pick up, his grip tightening on your hips. You whimpered, gripping at his chest as you wondered how this was going to go.

“G-Gojo?!”

“Hm?”

“H…how is this nice..?!” You managed to moan out.

His hips slammed against your ass, the sound of skin slapping together returning in harmony with your moans.

“This is my nice.” He grinned.

Fucking asshole!

His hand moved up and gripped one of yours, tangling it into a handhold. Your hand was practically engulfed by his. Crap, he was making you feel crazy.

“You know my name now, so scream it.”

You gasped in shock, suddenly remembering when you had whined in the call about not having a name to moan. Your back arched as his pace somehow picked up even more, his hips slamming into you with a force you questioned was human.

If this was his nice… you didn’t want to know what his mean was.

Okay—that was a lie, you definitely wanted to know.

You started to moaning his name which soon turned into screams. Your cock spurted pathetically on your stomach, coating it with your cum. But he didn’t stop. He kept his rough pace as he used you for his own release.

His last thrusts practically took your breath away as he pushed deep inside of you. The only sound left was your gasps as he cummed, coating your insides.

Your hand was still entangled with his and he didn’t seem to want to let go. As he pulled out, cum slowly leaked out of you, coating the bedsheets beneath you. He laid down beside you, wrapping his free arm around your waist as he tugged you closer.

It was silent for a moment, only your heavy breathing as you tried to calm down. Gojo buried his face in your neck, humming slightly. The moonlight shined down on you both through the windows, illuminating his white hair beautifully.

As your eyes felt heavy, you cuddled closer to him and fell asleep with a smile.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“I can’t believe you.”

You and Gojo sat kneeling on the floor in front of a disappointed Nobara and Megumi.

“I can believe Gojo… but (Name)…” Megumi whispered, shaking his head as he looked at you.

Nobara sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “I thought he was killing you at first. Can you imagine the horror of hearing you scream in the middle of the night?!”

You froze, glancing up at Nobara. “Did you…?”

“Head back down!” She yelled, you quickly obeyed. “And yes, I did see Gojo fucking you! So traumatizing.” She whined, wiping at her imaginary tears.

“I wish I didn’t hear it.” Megumi muttered.

“So, were you guys role playing or something?! Why did you act like you hated him for almost two months straight?!” Nobara asked, staring right at you.

You pursed your lips, keeping your head down. “Uhm… I dunno… I just…”

Gojo grinned. “It was a brat tamer role play!”

“I didn’t need to know that!” Nobara screamed, covering her ears as she began to sing to herself as she ran away to the kitchen. Megumi only gave you another disappointed look, one that reminded you of a mother, before glaring daggers at Gojo.

“You still can’t bother me at work.” He said before walking away.

Gojo simply laughed, standing up. He stretched as he held out a hand to help you up. “Don’t mind Megumi, he’ll get over it.”

You nodded with a pout, hoping he was right. As you moved to go join Megumi and Nobara in the kitchen, Gojo suddenly grabbed your hand. He pulled you close, pressing his lips against your ear.

“I wasn’t lying about you replacing the girls, I wanna show you off.” He whispered before releasing you. He gave you his signature cocky smirk before walking away to go bother Megumi some more.

You stood there for a moment, reeling in shock.

Show… you… off…?

Did he mean…?

Holy fuck.

He wanted to make videos with you!

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

No part 3, stop bugging me

Tag list: @teyvat-writer @tehyunnie @the-ultimate-librarian @kiiyoooo @mello-life69 @iwishtobeacrow @remdayz @ofclyde @smellwell @flurrina @tomoeroi @star-3214 @rhetorical-conscience @honey-valentin3 @byul9158 @xiaovrsven7ti @vivian-555 @huboi @a-purple-person

[kentocidal]

lucky winner

users: piercer!bakugou x afab!fem!reader x tattoo artist!kirishima

internal warnings: descriptions of needles/tattoos/piercings as they occur, long fic, wow there's plot in this!, consensual threeway, established krbk, oral (m and f!receiving), piv, spit, size kink, light dacryphilia, spitroasting, inaccurate positioning, ask to tag

internal notes: three way won the poll so i went ham. my fault og. final word count somehow came to 5.2k ish.

new notifications: @kaedescara

you stared blankly at the notification on your phone, wide-eyed and jaw agape. you blinked slowly, rubbed a hand down your face, and then clicked your phone off and back on again. the screen lit back up to your screensaver and the single notification that sat covering it. ‘@sincitytattoojp tagged you in their story! check it out!’

you looked up from your phone to your friend, who you now realized was calling your name and snapping her fingers. “uh, hello? earth to y/n? what’s going on? did your ex message you or something?”

“i think i won something.” you mumbled, turning your phone to show your friend. she furrowed her brows together and took your phone from your hand, studying the notification before cracking a grin. 

“is this that tattoo parlor in tokyo that you keep talking about hypothetically going to?” she laughed as she punched in your passcode and opened up instagram, pressing on the icon to the parlor’s instagram story.

you were quick to snatch your phone back to watch the story yourself, raising the volume on your phone to hear it. it was a video of someone’s hand reaching into a very full fishbowl of printed instagram handles, pulling out a tiny piece of paper and unfolding it to reveal your instagram username. the caption read in big red lettering, “congrats to @[y/n] for winning the human canvas raffle. reply to this post by midnight to schedule your slot.”

you swallowed thickly and looked up at your friend. “i won the fucking raffle. i won the nine hour session.”

your friend sucked in a breath before laughing and lifting her glass to you. “godspeed, soldier.”

you looked back down at your phone and clicked back to rewatch your name be pulled from the bowl. you had entered the contest on a whim – you hadn’t expected to win. you had reposted the parlor’s picture and tagged your three closest friends to enter a bid into becoming a human canvas for a day, i.e. getting tattooed and pierced until you tapped out. the parlor owners couldn’t seem to decide on whether to call it the human canvas contest or the no mercy challenge, not that it mattered. both fit the bill to describe what you had just won.

you swiped up on the story.

you: i dont know whether to be terrified or excited.

@sincitytattoojp: both, sweetheart. sign this and get it back to us [1 attachment]

you had gone through an extensive back and forth that night, printing and signing and scanning different waivers and papers to ensure that you would be able to handle an entire day of sitting in a chair getting poked and prodded with needles and getting art permanently printed on your skin forever. you were grateful that they took so much precaution in ensuring you were well aware of the situation you were putting yourself in, and getting ample consent confirmed ahead of time. you already felt comfortable as you stepped off the train in tokyo and started towards the shop.

sin city tattoo and body art. the small tattoo shop had garnered a massive following around the globe for the gorgeous work that consistently poured from the studio. the artists had never shown their faces on their page, but it was clearly just a two man show. sometimes one of them would film the other doing their newest piece on a client they handpicked from the waiting list, and it was clear that the two were a little more than close friends. 

you trusted their work. you were a new client, obviously, but after following their page for over a year, you knew you would be okay with going through with this. you were just… inexperienced. you had a tiny tattoo of a butterfly on your ankle and your ears double pierced in the lobes, but that was it.

you rounded the corner and saw the neon sign over the glass doors to the shop, the shutters pulled down. you took a deep breath and tried the door, mildly surprised that it opened up. a tiny bell chimed over your head as you stepped inside.

the shop was small, but it was clean. absolutely pristine. for a tattoo shop called sin city, you were expecting a bit more of a grunge theme, not exactly the creamy white walls littered with black picture frames of flash art available for purchase, a tall cabinet filled with various jewelry for fresh piercings, plants in the corners surrounding two chairs that were supposedly for a waiting area. there was a tall partition behind the front desk, and the shop stretched backward, most likely leading to a tattoo chair and then a piercing table, respectively. 

you stood awkwardly by the front door, gripping your bag in front of you. you had brought a few little snacks and some water in preparation for being there all day. you shuffled your feet as you heard footsteps coming up from the back of the shop, and suddenly you were reconsidering your outfit choice. you had tried to be helpful by going with a tight spaghetti strap tank top and a high riding skirt, knowing that you would probably need to shuffle clothes around during the course of the day.

your thoughts got clogged almost immediately when a brick wall of a man rounded the partition, scratching the back of his neck and staring down at you with big red eyes that looked curious, almost playful. he had to have been at least six-five, looming over you with broad shoulders and bulky arms that were covered in tattoos that went all the way down to his knuckles. his red hair was tied half-up half-down, the black roots at his forehead showing through.

you gaped at him like a fish out of water, face starting to feel warm as he glanced you up and down, and then smiled, revealing a wide set of sharp sharklike teeth. “aye, kats! i think she’s here!” he called over his shoulder before stepping behind the front desk. “you’re our pretty contest winner, right?”

“uh-”

“my name’s eijirou kirishima. i’m the main tattoo guy here.” he grinned at you, boyish and peppy, and it stifled your nerves somewhat as you returned the smile, but you were flustered beyond belief. you had seen the videos of him tattooing, you knew at least that his hands were big, but not the rest of him.

“ah, yeah, hi. i’m y/n. it’s nice to see your fsce for once.” you giggled nervously, and he laughed and nodded.

“yeah, we’re not all about showing who we are online. the page got too big, tokyo’s a big place, we don’t want the extra attention, yknow?” he smiled warmly at you as he bent down and shuffled through some paperwork under the desk, pulling it out and gesturing for you to come closer. “i know we already got a lot of your stuff online, but this is the last waiver. pretty much a final agreement that we get to do whatever we want to your body until you either tap out, or the clock hits six, whichever comes first.” 

you made a little squeaking noise at his phrasing, glancing at his face as he just continued to smile. he fumbled around for a pen and held it out to you, and you reached to take it, but he snatched it back and leaned across the desk. “just so you know, you can say stop at any time. we’re not forcing you to be here. if you say no to an idea, we won’t do it. stuff like that. okay?”

you blinked at him. he seemed so genuine, really making sure he was thorough in his explanations of the paperwork and of your position in this. it helped you take a deep breath and nod. “i know. i’m all good.”

“awesome. you seem like a real trooper.” he chuckled in a deep, rumbly voice, and finally held the pen back out to you. 

you took it, your soft fingers brushing over his rough skin and making you feel like your hand was alight in flames. you signed your name at the bottom of the form, dated it, and slid it back across the desk to kirishima. he just grinned at you and shoved the paper into the desk again.

“bakugou! come on, man! she’s all good!” kirishima leaned his head around the partition, and you jumped slightly when the familiar voice of kirishima’s partner sounded from the back of the shop.

“i fucking heard you the first time, i’m not fucking deaf!”

“well, just hurry up!” kirishima laughed and turned back to you. “sorry, he’s a real stickler for making sure his spot is all clean. i’m clean, but he’s a neat freak.”

“who’re you calling a neat freak, red?” a slightly shorter man stepped out from down the hallway, and again you felt your breath catch in your throat.

he was still tall, but far more intimidating in his black wife beater and jeans. he took off his mask that had been covering the lower half of his face, revealing a nose piercing and snake bites around plush lips. his fluffy blonde hair was standing up in all the right places, piercing red eyes looking your form up and down as he cracked his knuckles. his arms were littered patchwork-style, much different than kirishima’s full sleeves, and he clearly liked to hit the gym seven days a week.

you gulped and shifted your weight as bakugou’s eyes drifted over you. “name’s katsuki bakugou. you’ve already met red. didya sign the form?”

“uh, yes. all of the forms.”

“great.” his eyes locked on yours. clearly, this guy was all about professionalism and business, at least while he was on the clock. then he turned his head to kirishima. “so, where did you want to start her?”

you found yourself laid down on your chest, head turned to the side to stare at bakugou’s back as he organized something off to the side. music was playing, but you could hardly hear it over the buzzing of the tattoo gun and the weight of kirishima’s hand on your back.

you chewed on your lip as you felt the needle trace over the skin of your lower back, occasionally lifting to get more ink, only to return and start the ministrations over again. it wasn’t an easy spot to get ink done; tramp stamps were adorable and sexy, but the skin on that part of a person’s back is notoriously thin. despite this, however, you always found the pain to be… enjoyable. 

you felt kirishima’s free hand slide over to the middle of your back, splaying out, applying some pressure to get a better angle as he leaned over you. if he wasn’t wearing a mask, you would be able to feel his warm breaths fanning out against your sensitive skin. your eyes fluttered and you did your best not to move as your neurons fired over the sheer size of his hand against your back. splayed out like that, his fingertips were on one side and the heel of his hand almost felt like it was on the other. perhaps your perception was being warped on account of the buzzing needle poking your back, but you couldn’t be entirely sure.

kirishima added more pressure even as the needle lifted away from your skin, pushing you down into the bed, making you squeak softly. bakugou’s head turned briefly to you, glinting in the white overhead lighting almost devilishly, before turning away again.

“so,” kirishima’s low voice made you flinch slightly, having been entranced by the weight of him looming over your form, “i don’t really see any ink on you. is this your first time?” you heard him chuckle into his mask as he waited for you to relax again, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin to calm you down, before pressing the needle down again. “sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, hun.”

you felt like some kind of high schooler talking about her virginity. “it’s- it’s fine. no, it’s not my first, but it’s my first big one. i’ve got a little one on my ankle.”

“your ankle?” he repeated, still pressing the needle to your skin and definitely coloring a shape in. “who did that for you? wasn’t us.”

“right, yeah.” you giggled slightly, really trying not to move as you wiggled the foot that held the little tattoo. “just an old friend who was an apprentice somewhere else.”

“ankle’s a rough place for a first tattoo,” grumbled bakugou, finally turning towards you and sitting down in a chair a little ways away, manspreading in your peripheral. “how’d you sit for that?”

“it hurt, but i liked it.” you mumbled back honestly, glancing back when you felt kirishima put the tattoo gun down and reach with a gloved hand towards your ankle, bending your leg at the knee to study the work.

“hm. it’s real cute on you, but i would’ve done it a little different.” his thumb brushed over the tattoo, over the thin skin of your ankle, sending a spike of heat through your body. “i could touch it up later.” he guided your leg back down and brushed his hand over the back of your thigh briefly before picking his tattoo gun back up and reapplying that heavy pressure to your back again.

“yeah, okay…” you murmured breathily, feeling small underneath kirishima’s weight and the power of bakugou’s gaze where he was staring at you, at kirishima, at how kirishima’s hands left indents in your skin as he worked.

your mouth felt like it was full of cotton, your head feeling like all the blood had drained from it and gone south. you shouldn’t be thinking like this, feeling like this, not while effectively getting stabbed thousands of times per minute.

bakugou hummed as he stood up again to get within your line of sight. “you said you liked the pain, huh? you one of those weird people that gets a high off of getting ink done?”

you felt your face burst with heat, unable to move as you opened your mouth and stammered. kirishima chuckled behind his mask.

“don’t tease, kats.”

“‘m not teasin’. i was just sayin’ that i agree with her.” bakugou smirked at you before stepping around the wall to go get a water from the fridge.

kirishima’s free hand slid from your middle back to just above your ass, his thumb rubbing into the fabric of your tight skirt as he worked.

“you’re sitting really well for this, doll. ‘m proud. probably one of my favorite things to do is back tattoos. especially these.”

you hummed softly in the back of your throat, probably mumbling a thank you that just made him laugh again.

you didn’t say anything when his free hand squeezed your ass as he leaned back to get more ink in the gun.

kirishima had spread the second skin across your pretty new tramp stamp with precision, making sure it wouldn’t wrinkle or peel away until your tattoo was healed. you were given a snack of chips and a bottle of water to recuperate while bakugou prepped his area, pulling on a mask and snapping black latex gloves over his hands. “so, how ya feelin’?”

“good,” you took a breath as you capped your water, sitting quietly on the tattoo bench and waiting to move to the piercing table. “ready to move on, i guess.”

“hope you don’t mind, but i took some photos when red was doing you.��� he glanced over his shoulder, and you smiled and waved it off.

“i don’t mind at all. my friend didn’t believe me when i said i was actually gonna come.”

“that so?” bakugou cocked a brow, his mouth hidden behind the black mask. “anyway, what’re you thinking for this next bit? industrial? nose?”

“ah.” you shifted on the bench, glancing away from him as kirishima rounded the corner. “i was, uh. i was thinking i could get my… i could get my nipples pierced first? get the worst ones out of the way?”

kirishima blinked once and immediately shot a look to bakugou, who made eye contact. it was like telepathy; there was a silent exchange between them before bakugou nodded and waved for you to step over. “sure, whatever. it’s definitely not the worst pain, though.”

“really?” you stood on jelly legs and walked over to the piercing bench, sitting down in front of bakugou, who pulled a chair over to sit.

“mhm. worst i would say for a girl is the clitoral hood.”

you flushed and shook your head. “no thanks. i think i’ll stick to this for now.”

“okay.” bakugou sat back in his chair, staring at you. you stared back, tilting your head. bakugou furrowed his brows and clicked his tongue, making an ‘up’ motion with two fingers. only then did it click that you needed to take your shirt off.

you looked around as you started to tug your tank top up, looking over at kirishima, who was leaning against the wall with fascination. “ah, sorry! if you really want, i can leave.”

“no! no, it’s fine.” you shook your head, and finally got the courage to lift your tank top up and over your head. in preparation for this, you had simply forgone your bra in the morning.

you were left in just your skirt and panties, essentially. kirishima hummed low in his throat, earning him a glare from bakugou. you felt like you were on fire when bakugou reached a hand out to your shoulder. “lay back. slow.”

you shuddered under his grasp and laid back on the table, bringing your feet up and bending your knees to be a little more comfortable. your nipples pebbled and hardened from the cold air of the parlor.

bakugou studied your tits with an intense gaze, clearly focused on his job in a way that kirishima was not. where kirishima was flirty, groping and grabbing, bakugou was cold and practiced.

“so this is gonna go something like this. one of these is gonna hurt more than the other. when i tell you, you gotta breathe in, and then breathe out all at once. it’ll make the pain a little easier to handle.”

“okay.”

“i’ll be quick, but we gotta do one at a time.” he grabbed a skin safe marker and finally his hands reached for one of your tits, rubbing his thumb into the skin as he marked where the needle would enter and exit. you felt like you were shaking, being grabbed and examined in such a professional manner.

“you can’t have any fuckin’ saliva or jizz or whatever touch these till they’re fully healed, you got that?”

you squeaked, almost jumping in surprise at his words, before laughing and shaking your head. “no worries there.”

“you sure?” bakugou tilted his head, eyebrow raised, and kirishima laughed as he walked over towards the bench.

you didn’t get a chance to answer bakugou, because kirishima was by your head, offering his massive hand to you. “you can squeeze my hand so you don’t pass out.”

you looked up at him through your lashes, squirming on the bench as bakugou squeezed your tit. you didn’t answer, just reaching your hand up to hold onto kirishima’s. his hand was large, warm, and so rough. you wanted to feel his-

“alright sugar. take a deep breath in for me.”

you sucked in a breath through your teeth, and then suddenly a white hot pain shot through your body, something never experienced before. your vision whited out and you may or may not have cried out and dug your nails into kiri’s hand, gripping it tightly.

your head swam as you were encouraged to breathe, and then to breathe in again as the wide bar was slipped through the new piercing. you yelped and jerked on the table, making bakugou put his gloved hand flat between your tits to try and ground you. “relax, brat. stay fucking still. gotta get this stupid ball on.”

“aw, she’s cryin’.” kiri chuckled and rubbed his thumb over your knuckles. your cheeks did feel wet as the pain subsided slowly. you whimpered as bakugou leaned away from you and reached to grab another needle package and the second bar.

“one more, drama queen. you can do it. just one more.”

“already?” you whined, shaking your head at him as he scooted his chair closer to get a better angle on your other nipple.

you did not get a chance to beg for mercy. “breathe in deep, good fuckin’ girl.”

you screamed this time. bakugou had been right, one hurt more than the other. your head felt so light all of a sudden, your vision blurring as you gripped kirishima’s hand like a vice and shook. your breath punched out of you when the bar was pushed through and the little ball at the end was screwed on.

you stared up at the ceiling and tried to get your bearings as kirishima let go of your hand to pet your hair and keep it away from your tears. “you did it, pretty girl. you got it. just breathe. did such a great job, yeah?”

you gathered your thoughts together as you listened to bakugou get up and take his gloves and his mask off, tossing them away, ever the professional. he walked back over to where you were laying and held up a mirror over you to show you your new jewelry. the sight made the pain worth it; your nipples, perky and red and hard, glittering with bars pushed through.

“what do ya think?” bakugou cocked his head at you, and you let out a deep breath.

“they look… really nice.”

“really sexy, more like.” kirishima chuckled over you as he openly ogled your chest.

you made a noise of surprise, which was immediately followed by your voice getting caught in your throat when bakugou’s free hand moved to start rubbing up and down your thigh. “you okay?”

“y-yeah.”

“you need a break?”

“i think so.”

bakugou nodded and looked to kirishima, who broke into a grin and bent over you just a little, his voice dropping an octave. “let’s take a nice long break, then, huh doll? you think you might wanna relax a bit with us? take your mind off the pain?”

“what?” you shifted to sit up on your elbows, wincing from the pain in your chest, looking between them.

kirishima laughed, “come on, doll. i know you didn’t come in here wearing just that tiny skirt for nothin’.”

“you can say no.” bakugou’s hand moved off your thigh, clearly the more level headed of the two. “we’ll take a break and come back in a half hour to keep going-“

“wait.” you flushed and put up a hand to make him shut up, glancing between them. “you’re not- together?”

“well, yeah, fucking obviously we are,” bakugou rolled his eyes at you while kiri chuckled, “but if we see a hot chick, we’re not gonna say no.”

“true.” kiri was practically purring.

they were standing over you, broad shoulders and tattooed hands and muscle, red eyes honed in on your shirtless form, and for some reason you allowed your inhibitions to fall away.

you took a deep breath and pouted. “just don’t make me get an infection on my new piercings.”

“never.” bakugou cracked his first real grin, foxlike and dirty, already moving back down towards your legs to start pushing your knees apart. you sat up a bit more, onto your hands, sucking in a breath when the bench dipped under bakugou’s added weight as he pushed your knees far apart and revealed your plain cotton panties with an obvious wet spot in the crotch, your pussy throbbing with the realization.

bakugou hummed as he slid rough fingertips down the insides of your thighs. “look at that shit, red. she’s already soaked. got this pretty pussy all needy even after pokin’ her.”

“figured as much. she was all spaced out during her tat.” kiri’s meaty hand slipped around the column of your throat, practically engulfing it in one palm as he turned your head to make you look up at him.

you gasped, and kirishima’s mouth came crashing down onto yours; he had to practically crouch to get even close to you where you were sitting. your hands flew up to his hair, body twisting slightly as bakugou started to work his fingers along your hips to further push your skirt up around them.

you felt yourself start to whimper as bakugou pushed your panties to the side and slipped two fingers through your wet folds. you shook and moaned as his fingers skillfully rubbed slow circles into your clit, making your hips jerk.

kiri laughed against your lips and squeezed his hand slightly around the column of your throat, pulling away from your mouth to look at your dazed expression. “lay back, doll.”

he guided you back to lay on the bench again, letting go of your throat only for a moment to start unbuckling his belt. “kats, i’m takin’ her mouth first, mkay?”

“hm?” bakugou glanced up from where he was licking his lips, about to press his nose to your pussy. “oh, yeah sure whatever. i’m getting a taste first.”

“someone’s got an oral fixation.”

“shut the fuck up, you red-haired loser.”

you felt yourself start to giggle at their interactions, but suddenly there were lips wrapped tightly around your cliff and a fat cock hanging over your face, drooling with pre.

you swallowed as your mouth practically started to water. your head was spinning as bakugou worked his tongue against your clit, a finger starting to push its way into your right, wet heat. you moaned and felt your eyes flutter, fingers curling into the sides of the piercing bench. “ah, i-i don’t know if i can fit-“

“shh. all you gotta do is swallow. can you try just the tip?” kiri cocked his head at you, suddenly all puppy eyes as he stroked his cock to his boyfriend eating you out.

you whimpered and nodded. how could you say no? you ground your hips against bakugou’s face as your lips parted, and kirishima pushed just the fat head of his cock past them with a low groan.

you felt full. bakugou started to push a second finger into your weeping hole, drool and your juices dripping down his chin and dotting the bench as he ate you out and found the spongy spot within you that made your back arch off the bench, knees attempting and failing to snap shut around his head. bakugou growled against your pussy, unhappy with you disturbing his meal.

you couldn’t respond what with kirishima shallowly thrusting into your mouth, working inch after inch into you. you felt his heady tip hit the back of your throat as your head hung down over the edge of the bench, and you coughed and sputtered.

“shh, careful, careful. breathe.” his hand returned to your throat, feeling the way he slipped further and further in. his balls hung down in your face as he started to effectively fuck your throat, groaning when you whined around him.

you did your best to suck his cock, slobbering and drooling down your cheeks as your eyes rolled back when bakugou removed his mouth and rubbed circles into your clit with his thumb. “she tastes fuckin’ good.”

“yeah? y’think so?”

“yeah,” bakugou breathed out, almost like an offering, and as he pulled his fingers out of your wet pussy, he shoved them directly into kirishima’s mouth.

kiri groaned loudly and sucked on bakugou’s fingers with the eagerness of a dog, gripping your throat with one hand and bakugou’s wrist in the other. he made sure bakugou’s fingers were clean before letting go and rolling his hips against your face. “shit.”

“mhm.” bakugou was panting as he hurriedly fussed with his jeans, shoving them down enough to get his cock free. it was difficult, positioning himself on the bench, but he made it work as he slapped his tip against your clit.

you cried out and gagged again on kirishima’s fat cock, gurgling pathetically while they both laughed at you.

“poor babydoll,” bakugou hissed, pressing his tip to your entrance, “she can hardly breathe, eiji.”

“she’s doin’ a good fucking job. i can feel how deep i am in her throat.”

“i can fuckin’ see that.” bakugou snapped right back before taking a deep breath and sinking so slowly into your pussy.

your walls fluttered around his cock as he sheathed himself inside you, one hand gripping your hip dangerously tight and the other reaching to grab for kirishima’s free hand. “fuck, red, she feels so fucking tight.”

“if- if you think her pussy’s tight, wait till you feel her throat.” kiri panted lowly as he grabbed his boyfriend’s hand over you.

you felt like an object, a plaything, lightheaded and so, so full, almost screaming when they both started to fuck into you at once; they were slightly off pace, both focused on their own pleasure, chasing their highs and smothering you all the while.

kirishima’s hand slid from your throat to the middle of your chest, a compressing weight that left you truly breathless as his balls practically smacked into you. you did your best to try and suck his cock, really, you did, but it was so difficult when bakugou was bullying your pussy and making you shake and cry out.

kirishima was the first to falter, his hips starting to jerk erratically as your vision blurred from tears of pleasure. “oh fuck yeah, fuck, ‘m gonna cum-“

“already? pathetic.” bakugou snapped, only egging kirishima on and making him whine as he tossed his head back and came deep in your throat, making you gag and choke.

he didn’t pull out until the thick, heady ropes of his cum were seated on your tongue, taking a step back to let his fat cock slap wetly against his thigh. it was clear, then, that his refractory period was short; he was already at half mast again as he watched bakugou fuck you into the bench, hiking one of your legs up around his waist to get deeper.

you cried out loudly, voice ragged and ruined as bakugou’s thumb returned to your clit.

“come on pretty girl, lemme feel you cum around my fuckin’ cock first. come on. i know you’re close. i can feel ya squeezin’ me in. shit, baby, fucking cum for me.”

your back arched off the table and your eyes rolled back as you came hard around his cock, your vision going white as you jerked and spasmed on the table. bakugou moaned and dropped his head forward, holding on until the last second when he could pull out and cum all over your twitching cunt, jerking himself off all the way. thick ropes of cum splattered against your skin and made you shiver, all parts of you sensitive.

kirishima, cock still out and hard again, stepped over to swipe his fingers through your pussy and get a taste of yours and bakugou’s cum, groaning deep in his throat as he pressed an almost chaste kiss to bakugou’s cheek. “you wanna fuck her throat next?”

“fuck yes i do.”

[reginaofdoctorwho]

i am going to Fucking Scream

[magpiepills]

Put It In, Coach

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Joel Miller x f! Reader

Word count: 3.4k

Summary: you are an 18 year old high school senior on the cheerleading team, and Joel is the beloved and successful football coach. He helps you with some stretching after practice.

Warnings: SMUT!! The girthiest age gap (18 & 56), consensual but extremely unethical sexual relationship, pervert Joel, power imbalance, dubcon (due to said power imbalance) but I assure you reader is of legal age and enthusiastically consents. piv, oral (m receiving) fingering, dirty talk, semi-innocent reader, blackmail, creampie, twist ending, possibly dark Joel.

A word from the author: This is a repost! Listen, I know this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. That is fine. Please don’t feel obligated to interact with this fic even if we are friends. It will be fine. I am posting this without making eye contact with anyone.

What is more important in a small Texas town than the high school football team?

Nothing, if you asked most anyone, including of course, head Lions football coach, Joel Miller- Coach Miller, that is. He had lead the team to numerous state titles, securing donations to the football program and filled display cases with trophies and framed team photos. Several former players had even gone on to play in the NFL.

Yeah, Coach Miller is a big deal.

You feel lucky when during your senior year the cheerleading team has to share practice space with the football team. Honored when Coach Miller helps your squad with conditioning. While the football team runs drills, he’s monitoring your time on the treadmill, checking your form during lunges, and helping you really lean into your stretches. He’s so helpful and encouraging. “That’s it, girls, get those knees up! Hustle!” He yelled as he watched you run by in your little shorts and sports bra. The one you took to wearing when you knew he might see.

Coach Miller knew a thing or two about cheerleading too, and he helped your coach to develop a cheer routine. You always blushed when his rough, steadying hands gripped your bare legs or circled your waist to help direct you. You saw how the other girls exchanged looks, but

Coach Miller had experience, he obviously knew enough about cheer. He knew what got crowds excited and lifted team morale. You beamed when he clapped and tucked his clipboard under his arm as you balanced on your teammates shoulders, one knee lifted high, both arms aloft, Pom-poms rustling in the hot Texas breeze. You felt butterflies that fluttered from your stomach down to your throbbing pussy. “Atta girl. You got it!” He praised.

The fawning newspaper articles never mentioned how handsome Coach Miller is. He’s probably in his fifties but you didn’t care. The other girls rolled their eyes, called him an old man. You liked the gray in his hair and beard. You liked the way his body was still so broad and strong, even if his belly was a little softer than it used to be. You liked the way his forearm flexed as he lifted the whistle to blow and get everyone’s attention. “Alright, boys go hit the showers, girls you stay and finish stretching.” Your cheer coach was busy with Megan and Lindsay and Tiffany, so you did your best to go through the regimen on your own.

You stood and twisted at your waist, first to one side, then the other. You spread your legs wide and bent deep to touch your toes, keeping your spine loose. You wanted him to see. “Ugh. He’s watching us.” You heard behind you. “He’s such a creep. He’s like a hundred years old.” “Yeah and you remember what happened with Monica. Nobody’s going to say shit to him.” You listened to the other girls talking, and tried to ignore them. Of course there were rumors about Coach that passed though the girls at school. They were probably just mad that he wasn’t giving them the time of day.

It was easy to forget the other girls and their hateful gossip when you saw that handsome man across the field. You stood and dabbed your shoulder. You winced and rubbed it, drawing the attention of Coach Miller. He jogged over, the muscles of his thighs rippling under his khaki shorts, belly rounding slightly under his royal blue polo shirt, and whistle bouncing as he made his way to you. “What’s ’a matter, sweetheart?” Care and concern painted his dark features, furrowing his brow. “It’s just my shoulder, Coach. I don’t know, it just is pretty sore.” You pouted up at him, giving him your best helpless face. He hummed and nodded. “You girls go on and get cleaned up, we’re done for today. I’ll let your coach know. I gotta deal with this.” He gestured to you, and you bowed your head sheepishly. The rest of the girls scoffed and muttered as they gathered their bags, shooting you looks of disdain and perhaps pity. Good riddance to them.

“Thank you Coach.” You said softly, bashfully. “C’mon, I got an ice pack in my office. Can’t let our rising star get hurt, can we?” You relished his attention. The hallways leading to his office were dark and empty, at 5:30 on a Friday, everyone had gone home. Once inside his office you sat on his desk, cluttered with papers and Gatorade bottles. You swung your legs and leaned back on your palms, letting the hem of your top ride up to expose a sliver of your belly. You hoped he would notice the way it was snug against your breasts. His office smelled like sweat and Lysol, but photos and framed newspaper clippings covered the walls. You used your phone to cover the framed photo on his desk of him and his wife and kid.

When Coach Miller returned with the ice pack, he found you innocently playing with the hem of your short cheer skirt. He hesitated, taking in your long, bare legs, smooth and pretty. He followed the line of them up to where they disappeared under that damn skirt, he wondered what he might find if he flipped it up. Wondered if you had on those little white panties he had seen once when you were practicing cartwheels with the other girls. He wasn’t stupid man. He knew that some of you young girls had little crushes on him. He'd be a liar if he said it didn’t stroke his ego or that he hadn’t jerked off more than a few times behind his locked office door. He would never, ever admit to a few consensual dalliances with a few girls. Always over 18, but always so young and beautiful and eager to please. Was it wrong? When they wanted him? Joel preferred to think of it as a perk of the job.

“Where’s it hurtin’, honey?” Coach Miller asked, his voice much more tender than he ever used with the boys on his football team.

“My shoulder, coach. It’s sore.” He made a sympathetic sound and slowly, carefully began to run his big hands over your arms. “Can you hold ‘em up for me? Good girl.” You held your arms out to the side and he palpated your shoulders, stepped back to look you over, checking for you didn’t know what. It didn’t matter. Your shoulder didn’t really hurt.

Joel frowned. “What is it coach? Is it bad? Your voice was small and wavering.

“No, darlin’ it’s just that I can’t get a good feel for your rotator cuff cause your shirt’s in the way.”

“Oh..”

“Well, here’s the thing, you know we got that big game comin’ up and your coach won’t let ya cheer if you’re hurt. Really would be best if I could just check it out. If nothin’s wrong we ain’t gotta worry your coach over it.” He winked at you conspiratorially.

“What if I just…I could just take this off.” You tried to sound casual. Like it was the most normal thing for an eighteen year old to be topless in a room alone with a 56 year old woodshop teacher/football coach.

“That’s what the boys all do, sugar. Ain’t a big deal, but I don’t want to make ya uncomfortable. I can just go get your coach and she can check ya out.”

There was no way you wanted your coach thinking you were injured. Not when you were gunning for a cheerleading scholarship. Missing any games now was out of the question.

“We don’t need to bother her, Coach Miller. I trust you.”

Joel nodded. “Alright, I’ll tell ya what- I’ll give ya a towel to cover up with. How’s that?”

“Sounds good, Coach. Just, could you help me unzip?” You gave him a little smile over your shoulder and held your hair out of the way for him to drag the zipper down.

Joel stifled a groan when he realized you didn't have a bra on under your little top. His cock was already beginning to swell in his shorts. You shrugged off the blue and yellow top of your uniform and clutched the tiny towel he handed you to your chest. “Is this good, Coach Miller?”

“Yeah that’s good. Real good. Arms straight up, now. Gotta check your rotator cuff.”

You did as he asked, and the towel slipped to your lap and he rubbed and squeezed at your shoulders, peeking over to catch a glimpse of your bare tits. They were so pretty, your hard little nipples making his mouth water.

“Good news. I don’t think it’s anything serious. A little massage and rest is probably all ya need. Couple ibuprofen.”

You thanked him, half heartedly bringing the towel to cover your chest again.

“Just one thing though, I noticed there’s not a current physical on file for you. You know, they take that stuff real serious. I know you’ve been workin’ real hard all year, I think you’ve got real potential and I’d hate for you to throw that away over a little form. If you want, I can give ya a quick check and it’ll be our little secret.”

“Gosh, Coach. You’d really do that for me?”

You knew damn well your physical was on file. You had taken it to the office yourself. It was something you’d been doing every year since you started playing sports in junior high.

“Yeah, won’t take but a minute. Don’t want ya getting in any trouble.”

You sighed gratefully. “Thanks Coach Miller. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Go on and hop up on my desk and I’ll make this quick and easy.”

He moved your arms one at a time, feeling for proper movement. He had you step on a scale and measured your height and weight, commenting that you were “full grown.” He had you bend forward and touch your toes, sliding his fingertips up the length of your spine to check for scoliosis, but taking the opportunity to admire the way your skirt rode up to expose just a bit of your panties, just barely brushing his hard cock over your ass. “Oops!” You dropped the towel, dramatically covering your tits with your hands, squeezing them together.

Joel looked at the form he was half-assing and scribbled on it, before sitting it aside and clearing his throat. “You uh, you do your regular self exams?”

“Self exams?” you blinked at him innocently, hiding the smirk that threatened to break through.

“Breast exams, sweetheart. Gotta make sure everything is like it’s supposed to be. Real important to check. Maybe I better show you how. Why don’t you lay down there and put your arms over your head for me?”

You did as he asked, lying back on his desk and didn’t bother hiding your lustful stare and he slid both hands up your rib cage to cup the underside of your breasts. He squeezed gently, kneading the supple flesh. “You’re doing great, baby.” You whined as he worked his way around your nipples, watching intently as they hardened. “Almost done.” He pinched at your nipples, making you squirm, he pulled gently, and rubbed them under his thumbs before squeezing your tits once more. “I think that’ll do.”

But he didn’t take his hands from you. He ran them over your chest, down your sternum, over your belly to the band of your skirt. He gripped your hips through the rough fabric, forgetting himself, or dropping the act. Either way, he found himself staring at the wet spot on your exposed panties. You bent your knees and rested your heels on the edge of Coach Miller’s desk. “Let’s see if he can resist this!” You’d thought, delighted with the way your plan was working.

Joel had his fair share of girls throwing themselves at him over the years, but you certainly took the cake. In half an hour you’d gone from a shy school girl to a sex starved slut right on his desk. It had been so easy, maybe too easy. Give you a little attention, some praise you weren’t getting at home, some touches like he knew the dumbass boys on his team weren’t going to learn about for another eight to ten years. Joel loved it when his plans worked.

“Something you need, baby?”

“Mhm. My backs kinda stiff. Maybe you could help stretch me. Get me loosened up.”

“This help?” Joel placed his hands on your knees and pushed them up, gently rolling your lower spine as he stood between your legs.he lowered them, letting your covered pussy brush against his rock hard cock, then repeated the motion, pushing your knees a little further each time.

“Feels so good, Coach.” You breathed, hands gripping the sides of his desk.

“Gonna open your hips up, you’re bein’ such a good girl.” He pushed again, letting your knees fall to the side, spreading you wide open. You could feel the way your panties clung wetly to your aching pussy, rendered nearly transparent by the slick that started seeping from you the minute you entered Coach Miller’s office.

Joel couldn’t play this dumb game with you anymore. He squeezed your plush thighs and pushed them down, dragging his thumb over the soaked gusset of your underwear. “I think ya got a bigger problem than a stiff back. Looks like you’re really hurtin’ right here. How long has this pussy been needin taking care of?”

Finally! “All day, Coach. I really need help to make it feel better.”

Joel’s finger slipped under the fabric to slide over your puffy lips.

“I got some other massages and stretches that’ll make this all better. Do you want that?”

“Yes, please! Please Coach.” You nearly shouted at him. If he didn’t do something soon you’d have to try to climb on top of him and just take what you needed. It’s not like you couldn’t see how hard his cock had been since the minute you got your tits out. He was a creep and everybody knew it, but he was too handsome to resist and if his bulging erection was any indication, well…

“Gotta get these panties off.” You lifted your hips for him to slide them off, then stretched your legs and demonstrated your flexibility by pulling your ankles down and holding your legs wide open for him. “Goddamn. Look at this. You do want this, don’t ya? Got so damn wet on my desk from just gettin your tits touched. Are all the girls on your team so slutty?” He marveled at how wet you were, slipping his fingers from your entrance up and around your clit, tapping your pussy firmly with the flat of his hand and groaning at the sticky slapping sounds.

His index finger teased at your opening while his thumb rubbed over your clit. Flames licked at your belly. “Just slutty for you, Coach. Need a real man.”

“Yeah? You need a real man?” He emphasized his words by sinking two thick fingers into you, “I’ll show ya what a real man can do for you, but you ain’t ever gonna be happy with a boy again.” He pumped his fingers into you and to your shock, dripped spit directly from his mouth to your clit. The slip made the sensation even more intense, and you squeezed his fingers as your orgasm crested. “Good, huh? Well, we ain’t done. I got a little more stretching for this tight little cunt.” You’d never heard anyone talk so crudely. You loved it. “Fuck yes, Coach, please. Please!”

Joel’s eyes snapped up from where he was watching his fingers disappear into your pussy. “Watch your language.” You whined and bucked your hips, eager for what you hoped was coming next. Joel worked a third finger into your pussy, the stretch stung and radiated, but faded into a pleasant feeling of fullness you’d never experienced before. Not with your inexperienced conquests.

Satisfied that he’d prepared you well enough, Joel hastily unbuckled his belt and let his shorts fall to the floor, weighed down by his wallet and keys. You watched as he tugged his turgid member, the biggest you’d ever seen. “C’mere. Get on your knees a minute. I know you know how to do that.”

“You want me to suck your cock, Coach Miller?”

He huffed at you, amused at your innocent act.

“Open your mouth.” You opened wide and took him deep, gasping and bobbing your head over his tip, hollowing your cheeks. You looked up at him and took him as deep as possible, relishing in the look of devastation that washed over him as you gagged and drooled.

Joel muttered something you didn’t hear before he pulled you off his cock by your hair. “Bend over the desk. Come on.” You did as he asked, and he slicked his cock with your abundant arousal, slapping the head on your ass a couple times, then held the base of his cock in one hand, and gripped your hip with the other. Slow and steady he pushed into you, taking his time until he was fully sheathed, hips flush against your ass. He waited there, leaning his forehead against your back and reaching under you to grab your tit.

“So fucking tight. Tightest pussy I think I ever felt. You’re not a virgin are you?” You shook your head. You weren’t a virgin. He was your third. He was your biggest and best. It would be hard to top him, you mused until he dragged his length out of you and slammed back in with more force. He did that a few times- pull out slow, slammin hard. Slow, hard, slow, hard. Then he switched it up, pushing your knee up into the desk he favored slow, deep strokes so he could watch how your pussy gripped him and sucked him back in, wetting his cock with your slick, so wet it dripped down to his balls.

He smacked your ass, leaving handprints on the unblemished flesh. “Fuck yeah, baby. Just like that. Taking this cock so good. Feel ya squeezing me so tight. Cock hungry little slut making me fuck her. Fuckin beggin for this dick.” He gritted filth through clenched teeth. You reached down to rub your clit, and let your hand wander further, feeling where your bodies joined, stretching your fingers to catch his balls as he pounded mercilessly into you. He smacked your ass hard, then reached up to hold your shoulders and his movements became uneven. “Coach, please! Please, come in my little pussy!” You’d heard that in porn and thought it sounded good.

Joel’s eyes squeezed shut tight as he let go, filling you with rope after rope of cum. You moaned, feeling him pulsing deep inside.

There was no kiss afterward. No hugging, no cuddling. Joel handed you the little towel to clean up with, Carter he watched his spend drip out of your wrecked pussy and onto the fabric of your skirt. He wished he had a picture of it. You wiped away what you could and put your shirt back on, your panties had disappeared and at 6:15 there was no time to look for them now. Coach Miller promised he would find them for you. You gathered your phone and backpack. He squeezed your shoulder as he walked you out to the main hallway and cleared his throat. “You know, if anyone found out about this, it could ruin your shot at any kind of scholarship. You might not even get into college at all. Now, I know you young girls make mistakes and I’m not going to tell anyone as long as you keep up your grades and your practice. If I hear about ya being a slut, though, I’ll have to inform the principal for your own good. Don’t make me do something we would both regret, sweetheart. Ya understand?”

“Yes, Coach. I understand.”

Joel breathed a sigh of relief. He had seven years until he could retire. He wasn’t sure how many more pretty little seniors would come sniffing around, but he thought maybe he should try to stop giving in to every doe eyed little slut that came along. Oughta try other ways of keeping his dick wet.

On Monday Joel was at his desk, drinking coffee, making out a supply request form for his woodshop lesson plan when his phone chimed. A message from an unknown number had sent an attachment. He squinted at the screen, and froze in horror when he saw his own face looking back at him, he was perfectly framed in the shot, a still from a video, and there you were, smiling at the camera underneath him. The message that followed was short. “See you after practice, Coach.”

[forbidden-sunlight]

yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario: A Wendigo's Violent Love

Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], violence, spoilers for episodes 7 and 8 in the first season of the 2024 show, possessive and obsessive behavior, Alastor is in denial, physical abuse, implication of friends to enemies.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the back button on your phone or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

Hey guys, welcome to another Hazbin Hotel fic! I know I had said that I was going to be on a break until the 8th or 14th in my last post, but I had gotten a burst of inspiration after watching the season finale and wrote this after discussing the idea with @riddle-simp and collaborated with @witch-of-the-writing-desk. It's because of these two that I managed to write 2k in a single day, so please give a big round of applause to these amazing individuals.

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going on in tonight's broadcast with Hell's one and only Radio Demon!

Part Two

Alastor could not believe what had happened on the rooftop. No, he refused to believe that he was nearly killed by a hair. To almost die for his friends, a fucking altruist of all things.  Sorry to disappoint, but this is not how his story will end here. He thought viciously, tugging at his hair as memories rushed through his mind. He needed more. He needed his freedom. Yet this deal is restricting his powers from reaching their fullest potential, and it almost killed him. Yes, there has to be another way to get out of it. But more importantly….he needed to stop these feelings bubbling inside of him. These feelings he felt towards you. 

You, a simple groundskeeper who had forgotten what it meant to be a human and served as a weapon in war. You, who did not use technology like him yet still found a way to connect with the rest of the hotel’s wayward souls.

He hates it and he wants you gone, out of sight and out of mind, because these feelings have put him in more danger than necessary. When he finds the backdoor of his deal, how to unclip his wings, he will be the one pulling all of the strings and claim the power that he rightfully deserves. He is the Radio Demon, the Great Alastor! Nothing else matters to him!

He made his decision right in the dilapidated radio station to never get attached to you or anyone else again. To only focus on himself and no one else. He is in Hell for a reason, after all. He cackled, feeling the thrum of his power rising in unison with his conviction. Yes. He thought. Yes, he’s Alastor! The cold, ruthless overlord who always has room for more voices on his broadcast. Not some soft-hearted twit who would die for someone! 

But what he did not realize at the time, just right underneath the hatch, you had heard everything. 

Despite your injuries and losing both of your arms to angelic steel, you had used your strength to trek through the debris and look for him. Now knowing that he despised you, knowing that he sees you as nothing more than a weapon to use for his convenience….well, you could not blame him. You were a weapon when you were alive. You were feared, you were hated, and you did not care at the time. So why did it hurt so much when he said that? You did not know, except it was better to keep your distance from him. 

So you left the Radio Demon alone, staggering away to join the others. 

Vaggie was somehow able to find Sir Pentious’ blueprints for your prosthetics in a fireproof trunk beneath the rubble, and put in a call to Carmilla Carmine to see if she could make them with angelic steel instead of adamantine. Of course, the angelic arms dealer took a look at them first before agreeing to it, but not before telling Vaggie she must ask for your consent to do the procedure and what you wanted to add or remove. You gave your input, and the procedure was scheduled for the following week. Although you could not help with the construction of the hotel, you did assist Charlie by putting together an eulogy and memorial service for Sir Pentious. The princess was not sure when it would be held, hopefully when the hotel was finished. 

You understood, softly promising to be by her side for support, even if you had to be pushed in a wheelchair. Sir Pentious had been a good person, an inventor and a gentleman who was nothing but kind and respectful to you. Even though you offered to pay him for doing repairs on your arms in the past, he brushed it off and instead asked you to join him for tea. He…you hoped he found peace. 

On the day of your procedure, you asked the overlord a question that had been plaguing your mind since the war. “Madam Carmilla, I am a weapon. I was raised to be one, to be used and tossed aside when my usefulness had expired. So…why is it that I am bothered by what Alastor said…on that day?” You did not dare to elaborate on what he exactly said to her, just that he said that he did not want to see you anymore. Be gone from his sight and mind. 

She stared at you for a long moment before she replied coolly, “So I have heard from Vaggie. But I do not share her thoughts. A weapon is lifeless. You are a person. An emotionally stunted one, but someone is living, breathing, and who can still be hurt by what others say about them even if they can’t see it. You are upset because of what Alastor said….and in my humble opinion, whatever you feel towards him, discard it. There is nothing to gain by being close to him.” She then turned away, pulling on a pair of gloves over her hands as one of her daughters placed a mask over her face. “Are you ready to begin? This is your last chance, and I cannot promise it won’t hurt.”

“I am.” You said. “Thank you for answering my question.” 

Carmilla nodded, and proceeded to give out instructions to you and the rest of the staff in the operating room. You complied, not wanting any more time to be wasted on your behalf. At least now you knew why you were upset.  It was because you cared about Alastor. Cared….yes, that is the appropriate word. You had to distance yourself from him. It is what he wanted, so you must respect his decision as the manager of the Hazbin Hotel. 

Yes, it is better this way.

That was the last thought that crossed your mind before a mask was placed over your face, and everything fell into darkness. 

Alastor did not understand. You were doing what he wanted you to do. He did not want to see or talk to you unless it was necessary. So why was it making him angry? When he congratulated you on a successful recovery from your procedure, complimented your progress in physical therapy per Carmilla’s instructions, or how lovely the eulogy you wrote for Sir Pentious' memorial service, you showed no reaction. You simply stared at him with a hollow expression before thanking him, excusing yourself with a bow of your head. 

He should be elated. No, he is pleased. He is satisfied that his relationship with you has not gone by being professional. Why, you even pull away as soon as he lays a finger on you~! So why does it bother him that you recoil from his touch? No. He…cannot accept it. He cannot accept this.  He needed to speak to you. Discreetly. 

However, now that this new and improved Hazbin Hotel stood in place of the old one, everything is much bigger with the additional square footage; meaning there would be more ground to cover if Alastor is to ever find you, even if you do not wish to see him.

 Niffty, bless her little deranged mind, pointed him in the direction of the greenhouse. Of course, it was much bigger than the old one. But he still saw the old stained glass windows of the Moriningstar family crest lined up on the south side, allowing red light to come through and shine down on seedling trays with new shoots poking out of the inky soil. The clean, fragrant scent of herbs permeated the air as he walked through the rows of berries, juicy melons, and other culinary delights. He did not think this place would already be thriving when you were the only one who tended to it, as the hotel’s groundskeeper. However…this is you. You, who is able to accomplish anything once you put your mind to it. 

He found you hiding just beyond the apple trees, kneeling beside a bush of glistening roses, armed with pruning shears and an apron over your clothes. A watering can sat on the grass by your side. Your back was facing him…which allowed him the element of surprise. Grinning, he leaned forward, stretching his gloved fingers to lightly caress the petals of the rose you were about to snip off. 

“Oh, my apologies dear. My hand slipped!”

You glanced at him over your shoulder, emotionless [Eye Color] irises holding a steady gaze before turning away. “It’s all right. There are others that I can place at Sir Pentious’ memorial site.” You said, raising the shears to carefully cut another rose with a small snip. “Thank you for your concern.” 

The static around him buzzed, swelling in synchronization with his boiling anger towards you. “I see.” He hissed. “I am terribly sorry to disturb you.”

“It is all right.” Snip. “If there is nothing else, please allow me to finish this so that I can go on break. Niffty will not be happy if I am not out of here within ten minutes.” 

“I’m afraid we must discuss something, [First Name].” He pressed on, irritated at your uncharacteristic rudeness. “That is why I am here. So please turn around and look at me.”

You did. You placed the shears down, twisted your body around so that you looked at him straight in the eye. “Yes?” You said. “What do you need?”

He smiled, the static around him coming to a screeching halt and he was much calmer. Finally, He thought. You were looking at him, instead of avoiding his gaze. “I understand that since you have been cleared to return to work, you’ve been quite busy~! However! What I do not understand is why you have been ignoring me.” He leaned forward, feeling his eyes transform into radio dials. “You do not greet me as much as you have before, we haven’t had tea together, nor have we taken a stroll in Cannibal Colony~! So…why are you acting like I am a complete stranger to you?”

“Because I know the truth.”

Any and every thought he could have possibly said to her at this moment evaporated upon hearing your answer. “Pardon? I’m sorry but I didn’t catch that.” His voice leaked through the rising static. He felt his antlers grow, expanding past his ears with cr-crik, crick noises. Like the roots of a tree. 

“I know the truth. I know that you are angry over what happened in the war, how everyone saw you flee from your battle against Adam. I know you wish to unclip your wings and that you utterly despise me. So I am doing what you wish for. To maintain a professional relationship as the groundskeeper and the manager of the Hazbin Hotel. Our goal is to redeem sinners. There’s nothing beyond business between us.” You said with a calm and expressionless composure. “I went there that day, to the radio station. I had gone there to look for you, to make sure you were all right when I heard your words. But know this,” A sudden sheen of ice glazed over your eyes. “If you bring harm to Charlie or anyone in this hotel, I will kill you where you stand.” 

The last thread of patience in his psyche split in half. Before he could stop himself, Alastor pinned you against the ground, his hands on your shoulders and glaring at you, trying to intimate you with his true form, to scare you into silence as he had done with Husk…but you held your gaze. 

“It’s terrible manners to eavesdrop on someone, my dear.”

“And it isn’t wise to attack someone when you are not even at your full strength.” 

In a flash you immediately flipped him over, straddling his hips as you held down his wrists over his head with one hand. The other held a garden spade to his throat and he was burning. That was when he realized you weren’t wearing your gloves, thus the angelic steel is the reason why his skin is on fire. 

“Calm yourself, Alastor.” You said. “There is no reason to be angry when I am doing what you want me to do. Nor to act as you are doing right now. I advise you to take slow, deep breaths and count to five backwards.” 

“Release me.”

“Not until you have calmed down.” The way you replied so calmly, so…lifelessly, made Alastor angry. Angrier than he has felt in a long, long time. Not since his prey had escaped the forest and he did not get to eat them. Not since his mother died, leaving him alone in the world except for a drunken asshole who wasn’t worthy of being his father. Make these feelings stop NOW

“Come to my office in exactly twenty minutes for an evaluation about your conduct at work. Do not be late.”

That was the last thing he said to you before he sunk into the grass as an inky shadow, slithering back towards the greenhouse’s entrance towards his room. He couldn’t believe it. How could you have known everything? How could he not have sensed your presence? Was he that weak? No. No, he assumed he was alone and clearly he had not been. You were an anomaly. You were raised as a weapon; to spy, to kill, to search and destroy upon the command of your master. 

So why does it still bother him? Why does his head feel like it is about to split in half as he goes over the conversation over and over in his mind? Why is his heart falling into the pit of his stomach at remembering your promise to kill him if he harmed anyone here in the hotel? Why does he have this urge to know how you truly feel towards him? Do you still care for him? Do you love him?

In twenty minutes, he needed to know the truth…or else he would go insane.

What Alastor did not realize though, as he holed up himself in his quarters until the allotted time to meet with you, Husk had seen the whole thing from the door. 

He was going to drag you to lunch because Niffty had gotten pissed that you were skipping meals again…and thank fuck Alastor did not see him. Husk, the drunken gambler and former overlord, almost flew over to you with a worried look, grumbling under his breath. Once he saw that you were all right and did not have visible bruises or injuries courtesy of a certain someone, he grabbed you by the hand, leading out of the greenhouse. He was not going to let Alastor hurt you again.

He might be a dumbass, can’t fight worth shit…but you are important to him, and he’ll protect you even if it means putting himself in the line of fire again. 

Taglist

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[landograndprix]

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ viii

part seven - part nine

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ lando is here for the good, the bad and the ugly.

➪ mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ they are in fact my babies your honor 🥺 said I was gonna go super sweet, fluffy cute which okay..it still is but with a lil' spice 😇

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y/nusername

📍 Nice, France

liked by landonorris, manon_roux and 534,767 others

y/nusername ☀days

tagged; landonorris, milliexoxo

view all 1,645 comments

milliexoxo how about you delete that picture? It's taken without my consent?!

↳ y/nusername just capturing the moments where you're the sweetest

milliexoxo I will quit my job

charliecharlie you should find a real job instead

milliexoxo girl why would i when I can stay with a rich, hot milf, her cute ass daughter and occasionally her sugar daddy?

bott_ass not millie calling lando a sugar daddy 😂

charliecharlie she didn't say it was lando 🙄

bott_ass bffr are you blind?

yourmumsuser pretty zoë 😍😍

manon_roux the happiest baby on earth 🥺

norrizz just casually laying in the same bed lmfao

↳ chilisainz jesus christ, so I'm not allowed to lay in the same bed as my guy friends anymore?

norrizz girl relax, I actually love them together as friends or more I didn't mean for it to sound so negative 😭

lando4norris c'mon lads, they are not just friends anymore and I hope they get treated well by each other after the shitty partners they had before

hamilt44n please adopt me :(

landonorris my little tiger 🐯

↳ milliexoxo I'm pretty sure that's a panther pattern my guy 🐆

y/nusername time to take you both back to the zoo because that's a leopard pattern

milliexoxo we've got miss know-it-all over here you guys!

norry4 millie, leave your mother alone 😭

carlandooo what is this little family dynamic and why do I want to be a part of it?

norrislandooo why are we all ignoring lando calling zoë MY little tiger????? 😭

charlos16 lmfao my girl saw the pictures of Charles and Noelle and decided to show life is fucking amazing without them, good for her!

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y/nusername posted to their story

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y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 501,002 others

y/nusername home² 🏡

view all 1,989 comments

chilisainz y'all remember that weak ass bouquet she got from Charles couple months back? 💀

↳ norry4 was thinking about that as well, my girl really had an upgrade in her men :')

yourmumsuser 😍❤️❤️

hannahh truly living the good life 😩

yukisan please let us know how how the books are if you've finished them!

yesrislando charles lurking in the likes

↳ charlesgirlies probably because that's his daughter as well 🙄

yesrislando does Charles know it's his daughter though? 🥺

milliexoxo come home, the kids (me) are missing you

↳ sharl16 damn, sugar daddy really took your sugar mommy away from you? 😭

landonorris pretty ladies 😍

↳ norrizz almost chocked on my tea oml this is everything to me 😭

norry4 I actually need them to be together!!!

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Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew

[luvwestwood]

"Off Limits" - Gojo Satoru

4,120 words.

warnings. n*sfw (18+), tongue piercing satoru, substance use, satoru is a plug, fuckboy! satoru, oral sex (he eats your pussy OUT) , both characters 🚬 🍃, resolved sexual tension, porn with a BIT of plot, mildly dubious consent, fucking at a party, he makes you squirt

notes. this was originally posted on my ao3, which is much more longer. i've shortened it down and fixed errors I made on ao3 originally (see if you could notice what it is 😭)for tumblr so its more of an easy read! <3

banner cred. @/yunonoai on twt/ig

You had about an hour and half to get ready, before you had to make your way to the Mappa Frat House down the street. Chloe's brother, Satoru, and his friends were inviting you two to some house party they held every year building up to Halloween.

To be real, it took you A LOT of convincing for Chloe to have you come to the party with her. You were never a party person. The thought of throwing up your guts after your system has consumed all types of shit. Or the annoying guys that slap your ass from behind in hopes of getting time with you in the bedrooms upstairs.

You were the total opposite of Chloe, and honestly, you envied her. She was a social butterfly who could blend in with anyone if she needed to, and she was evidently liked by the other students of any clique out there.

Oh, and by party animal, I mean it. Dresses in every colour, length and pattern. Heels of every inch and style. She just knew what to do. Practically, if you got her to go to your party, that's how you'd know if it was a good fucking party. 

Sitting in front of your desk finishing your makeup, which you were surprisingly good at, you giggle as you watch Chloe attached a lasso to her waist.

She had looked really cute in her Woody costume, and you were in fact, dressed as a sexy Buzz Lightyear. Earlier on at Ann Summers, Chloe was begging for you to match with her. You couldn’t refuse. It was a 2 for 1 sale anyway..

You smiled as she started to record a few tiktoks before hitting the road.

"I'm gonna have so much fun with this rope tonight."

"Mhm.." you let out a hum as you focus on doing your eyeliner. It was hard not to laugh at what she said, but you managed to suppress a giggle.

You lined some lashes with glue before placing them on your lash line. Your makeup was flawless tonight, and you were grateful because it had been quite some time since you've done a full glam. A bit of setting spray, and you spun your chair around to face Chloe.

It was as if she was a proud mother from what she was seeing in front of her. "Gorgeous! You look like a doll. A sexy one. Stand up really quickly, let's take a few pictures before heading out."

You stumbled a bit from the high heeled boots you were wearing, and you had to adjust the fabric your ass was practically eating as you stood up. You and Chloe took a few cute pictures before heading out to the Mappa House.

As you guys got there, it was already packed with all shit ton of people spread out on the front lawn doing all sorts of stuff.

The loud music from the inside could be heard from where you were standing. People were smoking, making out, doing keg stands.

Honestly, Chloe was right. You looked at a group of girls huddled and chatting near the door, and one caught your eye. The girl was wearing nothing but black tape on her boobs and underwear.

You nudge Chloe. “Chlo, what is she meant to be..?”

She giggled a bit before replying, “Who knows.”

You got a bit nervous as you walked on the path leading up to the main door. Spooky Halloween decorations were all over the House, and sometimes you were unable to tell what and what's not a decoration..

A man was standing just inside the door, it seemed like he was waiting for Chloe.

The guy dressed up as Johnny Cage from Mortal Kombat. You'd never seen him before, and he looked a bit intimidating.

You heard Chloe call out to the man. "Kento!" ..So that's his name. You stood behind Chloe like a loser as she gave him a hug. She pulled away and stayed pressed up against him. 

He smiled, "I'm glad you came. And who's this pretty girl?"

Kento turned to you as you looked at Chloe, she held you close to her too and gave you a proper introduction. "This is my best friend and room-mate, I convinced her to come along tonight!"

You returned the smile to him, he seemed like an okay guy. "Hi, nice to meet you."

Chloe winked at you, and you smirked, knowing what it meant. You gave her the look of approval as she took her lasso and tied it around Kento, pulling him to a room somewhere in the house.

You laughed as you made your way to the kitchen, after they disappeared up the stairs. How outrageous.

It was more quiet, which you liked. Making your way to the far end of the kitchen, you opened the fridge and scanned what's inside. You decided to take a small can of Pepsi. You sighed as you turned around, closing the fridge shut with your butt.

The presence of someone behind all along startled you, leaning against the island watching you this whole time. 

"Oh my fuck. Why are you creeping up on people like that?"

It was a person, assumingly a guy, his face covered with a ghostface mask. He was dressed in all black. A simple black fitted tee and jeans. He had a fake knife strapped to his belt.

The mysterious guy took off his mask, and placed it on the counter behind him. Of course, It was Satoru, Chloe's brother.

You let out a labored sigh as you leaned against the fridge, unable to move.

"I'm surprised you showed up tonight, I thought you never will."

You slowly slid to the right trying to escape him, turning your back to face Satoru as you popped the can open on the counter. "...It was a last minute decision."

"Seems like you got a costume too, huh?" Eyes sliding down your body as he finished his sentence.

Your eyes widen, realising your ass was on show to him this whole time. I'll kill this man if he thinks I'm up to no good.

You quickly turn back around to face him with the front of your body, and it didn't do you any justice as he was just met with your almost exposed chest. Party in the front, party in the back.

"I'm not complaining, you look good." he reassured you, trailing his eyes down your body from head to toe.

"..Thanks." Quickly, you took a huge sip from the can as you looked at him. This drink will only un-calm my nerves.

"I'm actually not into parties myself either." he spoke, and you almost choked on your drink.

"You? THE Satoru Gojo? I wasn't expecting that."

"No, I just like more intimate parties. Big ones like these annoy me. I don't know and don't care about 3/4 of the people who are here."

He continued, “You wanna come with? I’m going upstairs. There’s one last free room. And that’s the master room.”

Chloe was already busy, and there wasn’t really anyone else you could talk to around here. You had no choice.

”Hmm, okay. I’ll follow.”

He made sure to grab his mask from the counter, and the two of you left the kitchen.

As you made your way up the stairs, you could feel other girls eyes piercing through your back like daggers. Luckily, they couldn’t recognise you that easily.

By the time you set foot on the upstairs landing, you called out to him. "Satoru," you continued, "Who's room is this even?"

"Suguru’s, but it's cool. He won't give a fuck."

You followed behind him for a bit until you reached the master bedroom.

”Lock the door if you don’t want people coming into this room eating each other’s faces off.”

You blankly stared at him for a bit before turning back around to twist the lock. The music from downstairs turned faint and so did the chatter.

For a frat house, Suguru’s room was actually clean, you expected dirty plates and what-ever-the-fuck to litter the rest of the room, but the only exception was the clothes scattered on the ground. You watched and sat yourself down on the bed as he rummaged through the drawers for something.  Is he… reaching for a.. 

He picked up a lighter from deep inside the drawer, taking a joint out that was untouched from the same drawer, but kept away in a tiny zip bag. Phew.

”You smoke?”

You looked at him. “What do you think?”

”I’m guessing no.” You didn't know if you were to be butthurt by his quick and certain answer, but you don't see a reason why you should be anyways. His words went a bit quiet as he concentrated on sparking the joint between his fingers.

He took a hit from the joint as soon as it was burning perfectly. “Damn, that shits good.”

”Is Suguru not gonna be pissed if he finds out you took that..?” You questioned him.

”..Who do you think sold this stuff to him?” He flashed his famous smile as he saw the priceless look on your face.

You chewed on your lip and looked at the ground. “Oh, right.. yeah.”

You forgot that Satoru was basically the one who sold 🍃 on and off the campus.

He walked over to you, and sat beside you on the edge of the bed. “You don’t wanna try?”

Satoru took another hit before blowing the smoke out on his right side, making sure it doesn’t hit your face.

“I don’t know. I’ve never done it before, plus I’m scared.” You continued, “More scared I’ll start coughing like a bitch that I’d make a fool out of myself.”

Even though the only source of light came from the bedside lamp, you could still see that his eyes were glossy, and at this point a tiny bit bloodshot. “I could teach you, here.”

He held out the joint towards you, the smell was so strong it was probably sticking to your clothes by now.

”Quick, it’s burning away for no reason.”

You held the joint between your fingers like a cigarette, and looked at him for assurance.

”No, not like that.” He took your fingers and placed it properly between your pointer and thumb. “You look like a loser if you hold it like a cigarette.”

”Okay, what now.”

”Do it, take a hit.”

You stared at it before bringing it to your lips. Satoru spoke from beside you.

”Like, almost as if you’re sucking. Make sure it really gets to here.” He points to his chest.

You slightly squint your eyes as you take a mistakingly big hit.

”Now hold it for a bit, then exhale. It’s gonna hit better.”

The joint left your lips as you held it for like two seconds, and you let out a laboured exhale.

“Good girl, see? No coughing.”

You passed it back to him and Satoru takes another hit.

”..How’d I know if it hit me?”

He smirked, “You’ll just know. Don’t worry, I got you.”

All of a sudden, it felt like everything slowed down and your face was being grabbed to the ground.

You felt a bit relaxed knowing that Satoru was beside you, and you managed to take a hit without embarrassing yourself and going all snotty.

Unwillingly, you take the joint back from his hand to take another hit.

”What happened to Ms. I don’t smoke?”

You rolled your eyes before you passed it back to him again. 

Satoru smiled at your reaction before speaking again. “You wanna play a game?” 

Stomach churning, and not really liking where this is going, you answered. “..like what?”

”I ask you a couple questions and you answer, then you do the same to me.”

You snickered. “Isn’t that just called ‘getting to know each other’?”

”Yeah, I just wanted to make it sound more interesting.”

“Okay, why not.”

“How about, if you refuse to answer a question you take off one piece of clothing.”

You looked at him with a , ‘nice try’ face. ”Nuh uh. Not happening. Just ask the questions.”

”Aww, it was worth a shot.”

“Start asking questions or I’ll change my mind,” you changed your position on the bed to lie down on your stomach. It was more comfortable than stiffly sitting on the edge of the bed.

”You ever had a boyfriend?”

”Once. But I was like sixteen.”

Satoru just nods. “Your turn.”

“Did getting your tongue piercing hurt?”

He turned to you and smirked, “I’m surprised you noticed it. But nahh. Not really, it was just the healing process that hurted.”

Your face slightly grew warm, “…Yeah, I noticed it yesterday.”

He just smiles, and asks his second question. “You ever gotten your pussy ate before?”

You swallowed your spit as you propped yourself up slightly. “I’m sorry, what?”

”You heard me.” He takes another hit of the joint even though it’s almost shrunken to the smallest it can be.

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “…No.”

”…Good.” Satoru muttered, but you couldn’t really hear.

It was your turn to ask question again.

”..Why’d you want to get it pierced anyways?”

”Dunno. Why’d you think?”

Silence and tension grew between the two of you. You didn’t know if the naughty answer that crossed your mind was right or wrong. 

You didn’t know if it was the temperature of the room or the shit you smoked. You avoided answering his question.

”…Y-your turn to ask the question.”

His next question came out immediately.

“..Wanna see for yourself?”

Your breath hitched as he spoke. You didn’t know what to say. And you didn’t know what he meant.

”Is that a question you’re using up or are you just saying that… as a joke..”

Satoru stood up and walked over to the dresser, placing his costume props on top. In fact, he took everything out of his pockets and placed it on the dresser. 

You watched him glance at his phone for a bit, reading all the messages from his other homies before placing it down on the dresser and not replying.

A pool was forming between your legs, and you gently clamped them together while still lying down.

You’d be lying if you said you totally didn’t want to strip everything off and be naked by the time he turns back around. But you kept your composure.

Satoru turned back around, walking back to the bed. He sat on the same edge he was on a few minutes ago.

”And what if I do wanna find out,” You spoke, testing the waters.

His voice was laced with honesty. “I don’t want to push you out of your boundaries, we don’t have to do this. We can forget that this happened and my sister won’t ever know I was near you.”

A few thoughts were racing through your mind. I mean, Chloe was busy, you literally had weed in your system and you never thought you would’ve. There’s a first for everything, right?

You gently crawled over across the bed,  closer to him. “…No, I do want you to show me.” Your voice trailed off quietly, you grew shy as you drew back.

He turned his head behind to face you, and was able to see the sincerity in your eyes. Not gonna lie, he was very attractive. And I was literally begging to have his head between my legs.

You came closer to him again, and found yourself placing your lips on his first. The two of you melted into each other, with the lingering sexual tension finally resolved. 

The good girl act no longer existed, and time around you felt like it had stopped. This was something you needed, and you finally got it.

He was extremely gentle with his hands, and softly guided you to move back further onto the bed, placing your head down on the pillow.

You slightly squirmed as he placed his knee between your legs. He pulled away from your neck  before looking at you from above, caressing your cheek with his thumb. 

“Just relax doll, I’ll take care of everything.” He left you with a peck on the lips as he slowly peppered a trail of kisses down your body, going lower and lower.

Your breath hitched as he cupped both of his hands around each of your thighs, kissing your inner thigh as he looked up at you in between.

His hands were cold, and caused your nipples to harden from his touch. But the heat of your body cause him to warm up in no time. He paused for a moment. “Can I?”  Satoru points to your tiny shorts before you responded with a nod. You slid them off and threw them somewhere in the room. You’ll find those later.

You watched as he used his teeth to teasingly slide your thong off your body, down your legs. You grew goosebumps from the feeling of the fabric slowly gliding down your skin.

It was painfully slow, but it made you want him even more. He knew what he was doing, and for your first time getting eaten out, it was like winning the lottery if Satoru was the one doing it.

He took them from his mouth, and placed it in the back pocket of his jeans before kissing past your inner thigh, Satoru placed a wet kiss on your throbbing clit before doing a few small licks with his tongue.

The mixture between the metal of his piercing and tongue made you shudder, causing you to whine and clamp your thighs around his head gently.

You felt Satoru's soft hands grip slightly your skin firmer, spreading your legs more apart and keeping them wide open for him. You were expecting his hands to be cold, but surprisingly your skin was met with his warm touch. He sucked on your clit gently, before lapping at it again hungrily.

Your two hands were occupied themselves, one grabbed onto his hair and the other clutched onto the sheets beside you. He only pushed his tongue deeper into you, basically gently fucking your hole with it.

Practically losing your mind from how good Satoru made you feel, you could tell he was enjoying every single noise and reaction you made. You felt the way he smiled against your dripping cunt as he cycled from sucking to licking.

”…Don’t.. stop..” you continued, in short breaths. “…Please”

He hummed gently with his eyes closed, his lips glossed with his spit and the juices from your pussy, and the sound of someone’s phone ringing echoed in your ears, releasing you from your trance.

You looked down at him annoyed as he hauled his head up from your legs. “Not my phone, mines silent on the dresser.”

You turned to the far end of the bed to your left and saw your phone screen was flashing. Reaching for it, you saw Chloe was the one calling.

Turning the phone screen for Satoru to see, he squinted his eyes a bit to read who the caller was. “You can answer,”

Before answering the call you laughed a bit, as you saw how ridiculous you made him look after grabbing his hair.

”Chloe?” You watched Satoru as he tried to listen in on the conversation.

He whispered, “Put it on speaker.”

You nodded, and Chloe could be heard on the other line speaking.

”Hey girl, just checking on you. You okay?” You heard her and Kento giggle as she tried to speak over the phone. But it was a bit louder around her, so that means they were with a bunch of other people now.

”Yeah, I’m…” Your eyes widen and flutter as felt as Satoru placed his head back down between your thighs, slowly and slightly lapping at your clit again with the cold metal orb on his tongue causing you to throb again.

You felt as he carelessly swirled his tongue around like there’s no tomorrow, but this time he let one of your legs go and thrusted a finger in and out of your hole, emitting a squelching noise as he continuously sucked, stimulating you like crazy.

The pleasure overwhelmed you, and you had to bite down on your bottom lip to suppress a moan.

”Heyyy, you there?”

You were unable to answer as your own words became nothing but breathy as you try to form a sentence.

”…Y-Yeah, everything’s fine. I’m in the…b-bathroom.” You felt his lips curl into a smirk against your inner thigh for a second time as he heard your little lie over the phone.

You furrow your brows, making an “O” shape with your mouth.

Your hand holding the phone fell flat onto the bed, and by now you were no longer listening to whatever Chloe was saying on the other side of the line. Your mind was clouded, and the knot in your stomach tightened as you felt an orgasm approaching.

Lucky for you, Chloe ended the call less than ten seconds ago as it seems like she was busy with something else. Hopefully Kento.

He felt the way you quivered even more than last time, and held one of your legs over his left shoulder as he thrusted another finger in, still lapping and sucking at your dripping cunt as your breathing quickened, becoming irregular.

”Cum all over my face,” He murmured against your warm lips, and that did it for you. You liked the way he was gentle with his hands, slowly using one to rub your thigh on his left shoulder. He was deep in there, and he ate your pussy like it was a five course meal.

You watched as him as you rode out your orgasm, your head falling back against the pillow. Your mind was all over the place as you endlessly squirted all over his fingers that curled inside of you to aid your high, and felt as you slightly pushed your body more towards him.

“S-shit..” Was all you could say. You saw the way the piercing was exposed for a split second as he stuck his tongue out, the juices from your release dripping all over his mouth.

As he gently pulled away from between your legs, a ‘pop’ noise was heard after he gave your clit one last suck. 

You couldn’t help but laugh at the way his face was soaking wet.  Luckily it didn’t go past his above nose. Or he’d be partially blind for the rest of the night.

The neck of his shirt managed to be slightly soaked with splatters from your juices. But he didn’t care.

“..You got a little something on your face..” You say, pointing to your mouth with your finger to tell him where it was.

He smiled, and you watched as he used his tongue to wipe the corners of his mouth, but took a random towel hanging off the door to wipe the rest off his cheek.

“Damn, Suguru’s gonna be pissed when he sees how soaked his sheets are.” Satoru laughed as he looked at you still with your legs spread out, trying to recover.

No can do, the towel that was previously used by Satoru was passed to you after.

The wet circle underneath you had expanded from soaking into the sheets for too long. Satoru grabs your shorts that landed just in front of the door and tossed them back to you, but as he walked away a knock could be heard.

It was Suguru, of course it was. “Yo, whoever’s in there is cheeky enough to lock my own damn door!”

You quickly slid on your shorts as you turned to the body mirror beside you, combing your hair with your fingers.

Honestly, you were a bit upset that your fun was cut short. But you couldn’t stay for too long or eventually someone would break the door down.

“Man shut the hell up, it’s me, Satoru. I’m in here.” He responded. You watched him in the mirror as he slowly came up behind you, turning you around and gave you a sweet peck on the lips. Making sure you knew he didn’t just want to leave you hanging like that. That you weren’t just a toy to him.

The two of you walked to the door, twisting the lock to it. “Here, you go out first. I’m right behind you.”

You nod as you left the room, and shyly smiled at Suguru on your way out who was dumbfounded, followed by Satoru behind you.

And of course, Suguru couldn’t help but notice your pink thong that was still hanging off Satoru’s back pocket.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts. 🎀🩷

[creatingblackcharacters]

"It takes HOW LONG?" Black Hair is an Art (pt.2)

(This is part two of the hair lessons, focusing on writing/narratives. If you want to know how the styles LOOK, refer to part 1 and its addendum)

Now that you know what our hair actually looks like, we’re going to discuss incorporating that into your writing (original fic, fanfic, webcomics, anything with a narrative). You don’t HAVE to give us a dissertation on "how you studied 'The Black People’s Hair'" in your story. That’s not what I’m asking you to do. I’m just asking you to CONSIDER the effort and existence of it. The same way you put effort into discussing nonblack hair textures? Should be the sort of tenderness and care you put into discussing ours. It does not stand to reason that I have read thousands of stories describing "the silky, black/blonde tresses/waves that fell down their pale back as their lover ran their fingers through them", but Black readers have nothing of the sort to compare to without seeking our own authors out. Our hair deserves some loving and adoration too!

This is a very long post describing hairstyles and how they can correspond to your character's design and decisions, so I'll put a read more here. The sections are organized into 'Twist Out', 'Afros', 'Locs', 'Braids', 'Black Men', and 'Straight Hair' if you Ctrl F. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE take your time to read all of this at some point though, as I put a lot of resources and explanation into this. I'm trusting you!

The History

As I discussed in the last lesson, our hair is incredibly important to us, and part of that includes the vulnerability and trust that comes along with access to it. This is due to a long history of oppression. There’s a racist history of making Black women hide our hair, as if it would ‘tempt white men’ away, regardless of it were due to actual attraction or the (more likely) rape of Black women. There’s a racist history of touching our hair, as though we are animals or zoo exhibits. We aren’t just going to let anyone touch our heads, so DON'T write that, unless you are doing so to show that it is a microaggression towards your character. Even now, cultural appropriation is rampant. If I were to wear cornrows with hoops, it'd be seen as 'ghetto' or 'gang-like'. Meanwhile, it is a fashion statement for white women. When Miles G Morales showed up in Across the Spiderverse, animators specifically chose cornrows for him, but many people mistakenly took it to me that he was 'rougher and tougher' than the original Miles. This was a racist perception! Hearing the Fade get hyped up in the news as the 'Travis Kelce', when Black men and especially NFL players have been wearing it for DECADES to crickets... it hurts lmao. Point is, you can describe and respect Black hair without being racist about it. Okay? Okay.

Vulnerability

YOUR CHARACTERS NEED TO BE CLOSE BEFORE ALLOWING THEM TO TOUCH THEIR HAIR!!!

It needs to be someone they TRUST wholeheartedly. Again, do NOT let a stranger touch their hair unless it’s meant to be an uncomfortable situation!

Consider CONSENT! Consent is ALWAYS beautiful! Have your other characters (Black or not) ASK to touch your Black characters’ hair! And not in the ‘Oh can I touch it?’ way. But if they’re really close friends or dating, have them ask to help do their braids, or wash their hair, or even just to stroke their hair and face! Or if your Black character is injured with a head wound, and they have to tend to them, have them ask! The asking shows a level of care and respect for your Black character and their body! At any point the consent may be revoked, and that needs to be respected! If they let them tend their head wound, but then smack their hand away after, that’s not ‘rude’- they’re allowed to do that, especially to signify that they aren’t at that level of trust yet. That's still angsty!

One great example of love from a Black character is doing their partner’s hair, or allowing their partner to do their hair. The ‘Hair-washing’ fic is a common thing in fanfiction; we all understand how that shows the depth of the trust in the relationship between the characters. How would you write about that trust with a Black character, if you don’t know what goes into taking care of their hair? If you don’t even know what their hair looks or feels like? The lack of awareness will show, and what should be a beautiful, deep moment will fall flat for Black readers. I wrote one once for my character with locs, and it honestly made me tear up because I realized that I’d never seen one, at least not in the majority white spaces that the fandoms I was in were.

Think about it- how often have you read a hair-washing fic with a Black character? Was it accurate? Would you know if it was accurate? Have you spoken to or heard anyone Black in your fandom space talk about it? Do you know anyone Black in your fandom space to ask? It’s things like this that we have to consider!

If you have a character that is nonblack in a relationship with your Black character, that honestly reveals even more trust because there’s a long history (again) behind that NOT happening! In life, we can’t go to the same places. I can’t go to a white hair salon or barbershop. They won’t know what to do! People are allowed to go through hair school without learning how to work with different, thicker textures. It’s not right nor fair, but it’s a part of the casual, systemic racism in our lives.

My feelings on what Lestat symbolizes aside, the scene where he plays with Louis’ curls in AMC's IWTV was an intelligent way to show that closeness, and how a nonblack character would affectionately play with a Black character’s hair! How he works with the curl in his fingers, rather than trying to pet Louis or run his fingers through- it was an intelligent move on Sam and Jacob’s part as actors to understand that THAT’S how that would go down!

If you have a character that wants to show a violation of your Black characters’ space, touching/harming our hair is cruelty on a very personal level that will generate an extreme reaction.

Think About Your Character!

When thinking about your Black character’s hairstyle, you need to think about your character themselves! What do they do every day? What are their hobbies? Are they Type A, Type B personality? Do they have a lot of time? Are they always in a rush? Are they noncommittal? Are they self-conscious? Artsy? Serious? Are they in a time period where the means to care for their hair are limited?

People make jokes and comments about how Black women don’t like getting our hair wet and dismiss our concerns. But it’s not out of ‘silliness’ or vanity. What you consider ‘just hair’ may have taken days of planning in advance and HOURS of our time! We put a lot of thought and effort into our hair, and it will easily shatter the illusion for your Black readers if you describe our hair poorly or create an unlikely scenario with it. It’s not a joke!

Some Terms:

Protective styles- a style that allows our hair to ‘rest’ with minimal manipulation

‘Tender-headed’- some people’s scalps are more sensitive to the tightness of styles, so it’ll hurt a little bit more and require some more gentleness (Regardless it’s still going to hurt for a bit after a fresh style)

Bonnets- a silk/satin cap of varying lengths that we wear at night to protect our hair and keep the moisture in

Loc Sock- same idea, but for locs

Durag- keeps short haircuts protected; can even help create the wave pattern that many Black men enjoy

Scarf- same idea as the bonnets, except scarfs can be used specifically for straight hairstyles to wrap them up to keep it straight and neat

(It'll seem real legit if you include your Black characters wearing their headcoverings at night! I remember laughing while reading Twilight because I knew that if Edward snuck into my room at night, he'd see me in my scarf or bonnet lmao.)

General Hair Care:

While I don’t completely agree with some of the advertising in this first one (it’s the internet. Can’t go nowhere without someone trying to hawk something) it’s cool in general to explain how our hair looks the way it does.

If you have Black children OCs, it’s important to consider that their parents have to do their hair, and how that will be its own experience! (It can be very stressful for Black children to get their hair done, as it takes a long time and can be physically uncomfortable. There are plenty of stories of burnt ears and tugged tangles and not very nice old women. Children are children! Keep in mind how they may behave while getting the style of your choice.

Moisturizing to keep healthy

Twist Outs

Cute twist out styles

Twist outs are a style that takes overnight to hold, or maybe even a few days! The cool thing is that the twists themselves can be the style! So the tighter you want their curls to be, the longer they’ll wear the twists in. If you want to describe your character with tighter curls, there needs to be a section of time where their hair remains in the twists! If your character has an event, and they want twists… this needs to be done in advance. Your character will NOT untwist them the day of, unless they want weak, limp curls (or you want the scene to compose of them having weak curls).

How long they'll last depends on the activity of your character! If all they do is work a desk job, or they don’t sweat very much, the twists can last some time! But if they sweat, or wear hats or caps, it’s not going to last long. Maybe a week.

Pros: Very versatile! If you have a character that loves trying new looks and enjoy being spontaneous, twist outs are for them! Easy! If your Black character is younger, or haven’t done their hair before, this is a great way for them to start working with their hair! Doesn’t take long (to do)! If your character is in a rush, and they do their twists, they can go just about anywhere. If they’re not self-conscious, this will be just fine.

Cons: It cannot get wet again, or the style will puff up back into your natural texture. It does not last long enough to say “oh my character went on a two year long fantasy adventure with this style.” If you want your character to have a twist out the whole time, they’re going to have to take time to do it. It would be cool if you incorporate a scene where they’re working on their hair, maybe in the background while everyone’s discussing plans or something. Just a reminder that their hair isn’t just staying magically twisted (unless they have the magic to do that).

Afros

Afro Style Guide, Style Guide for Men (works for any gender though)

Wash & Gos are just that- wash it (or really, condition it, you don’t have to shampoo it every time) dry with a t-shirt (to prevent breakage), put some oil and a light crème on it, fluff it up and you’re good to go! Maybe an hour at max and can be done while getting dressed in the morning!

Pros: Easy! If they’re doing a full, combed out afro, it’s not as simple, it will take more time. And at night it has to be plaited so that it maintains its length, otherwise it will tangle. But other than that, that’s still not all that hard. They can show off their curls! Black characters can and should have pride in their hair. It’s beautiful. This is the opportunity that you as an author can describe the pure texture of their hair, how it shines in the light, how the coils look, how soft it is! Romanticize Black hair the same way you do anyone else’s!

Cons: None really! Afros are wonderful! Just make sure that your character has a way to keep their hair from getting tangled. Just because it’s easy doesn’t mean there’s no maintenance! A pick, a bonnet, oil and water go a long way!

Locs

Five stages of locs

A person who does locs is a loctician.

Can be palm-rolled or interlocked/crocheted

I cannot emphasize enough that you do not want just anyone doing their locs! They can really mess up someone’s hair if they don’t know what they’re doing. I say that to say, for your character, if they don’t trust the person doing their hair… they should. They should not be walking into anyone’s place to get their hair locked; they’d do research first.

The time it takes locs to ‘bud’ (that is, to actually form the loc) depends on the texture of their hair. But it can take up to 3 months to even a year for them to actually ‘loc up’. So if your character just got locs, they’re not going to look neat. They’re going to be frizzy.

As long as they’re washing their hair, keeping it moisturized, and not using wax products (DO NOT HAVE ANY BLACK CHARACTER USE WAX PRODUCTS IT IS BAD FOR BLACK HAIR) it’ll last forever! Locs are incredibly strong, especially the thicker they get! It is recommended that locs are retwisted every six weeks, but if your character has freeform locs, doesn’t have the money or time right now, or they just aren’t that pressed, they can grow indefinitely.

Something cute to write in your stories: sometimes locs do just… fall out. Not the whole thing! But the same way thin hair gets everywhere… sometimes the ends of thin locs just… fall off! You’ll find little buds on the ground. This happens especially in the budding stage.

Pros: Very low daily maintenance! At most they’ll need a bonnet or loc sock, and oil/water mix to spritz and massage in. Strong style that can hold any look- buns, curls, etc. They can be dyed, though it will take a long time to do so. I say that to say, if you want your character to have bright green locs, go for it!!

Cons: Low daily, but HIGH wash day maintenance! So if your character has a fancy date or something to go on, they should not be getting their hair retwisted the same day, or at least not so close to. It’s going to be shiny, oily, and tight, which can cause discomfort. Give them the day to let the hair settle!

Locs are PERMANENT!! This isn’t a bad thing, as much as it is a ‘KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING BEFORE YOU DO IT’ thing. Technically they can be combed out, but that would take a very long time and very precise effort, and most people aren’t going through all that. They’re just going to cut them off and start fresh. If you have a character that would balk at such a choice, locs aren’t for them. If you have a character that’s picky and choosy, that likes versatility, that can’t make up their mind, do NOT give them locs unless they’re making the conscious choice to commit. (Again, this is subjective! Maybe they have locs because their mother died and it reminds them of her! Okay! That works!) If you have a character that’s vain, or at least doesn’t like looking awkward… unless they’re going to style up the awkward stage, they’re not going to want locs. (Awkward stage: the first two stages get considered awkward because the locs look messy. This is because they’re turning from curls to locs!)

Braids

Styles

How long braids can take depend on the style. Box braids can take 10-12 hours to do! Microbraids? You HAVE to have multiple people or you'll be there for damn near a day (and that's assuming you have a masterful braider!)

How long they last depend on your character! If they're like me as a kid, I didn't care how I looked, so my mom got me cheap braids and let me run free for two summer months. So if your Black character is a carefree child! Go for it. But if they're a teen or adult (or are very concerned about how they look) a month to six weeks is about how long braids can stay in before your new growth shows. A character that is usually trimmed and proper having loads of new growth over their braids may symbolize that they don’t have it all together anymore.

Pros: Protective style! Great way to let your character have minimal daily maintenance; oil and water and something to cover it. SOME braided styles allow for high activity and even rain without changing. It depends on the hair that’s been braided in, as well as the style. Incredibly versatile! They can have multi-colored braids, long braids, short braids, beads, trinkets… if your character is creative and bubbly and likes to experiment, the sky is the limit! That can symbolize their artistic expression, just by describing what they look like! So long as they have the time, they can have any look and style they want. No need to commit too long.

If your character is capable of doing their own braids (and locs, btw), they’re amazing. Like… that’s mad respect for them. If you describe your character being able to do their own braids, they’ve got amazing arm strength, patience, and skill. That skilled dexterity can be revealed as a trait of theirs through that alone.

Cons: They take a LONG TIME. Your character is not going anywhere. If they’re getting braids… they’re not going anywhere. If you write your character doing anything fancy the day of, depending on the type of braids, Black readers are not going to believe you. Even if it did get finished, it would be very tight. I currently have a poll going on, and so far, a good majority of the 10+ answers are braids! It cost MONEY. It is NOT CHEAP to get braids done! If your character is poor as a church mouse, they will be doing those braids with their friend in front of youtube. Because it can be in the hundreds of dollars. (Don’t get me started on hair culture right now; BACK IN MY DAY IT COST-)

Hairstyles on Black Men

I want to specifically give space and applause to these hairstyles on Black men, because we REALLY don’t give Black men enough credit for all the creativity they show with their hair! And again, with The Killmonger being the choice style in all these damn vidya games despite almost no Black man I know choosing it as a look… PLEASE LOOK! WE HAVE OPTIONS! Try describing how gorgeous these looks can be on your Black men characters! It would be very nice.

Straight Hair

Well, I was going to explain, but ol ‘Guest Writer’ here pretty much lays it all out! So just go ahead and read this article lol.

Just to re-emphasize, straight hair is NOT something that just grows out of our head that way! It takes effort! So if you have a character that doesn’t feel like maintaining straight hair, they shouldn’t have it! If your character has natural hair and lives in a rainy or humid city, they’re going to be fighting that weather to keep it straight- make sure that’s consistent with their personality!

My best friend used to wash and flatiron her hair every day. Like, laser focused on looking that good, Type A shit (she’s a top money banker now, so I guess it worked out). If you have a character like that, it’s fine! If they’re lazy any other time of the day, they’re not suddenly going to be waking up at 5am to flat iron their hair. It’s not consistent.

Conclusion

That’s pretty much what I have! I’m not the guru on all things Black hair, and I obviously cannot encompass every potential scenario you may have for your characters. Really, my intention here is to get you to think about how our hair reflects our character and personalities, and how when you write and/or draw a Black character, you have that ability! And when you’re able to incorporate that naturally, it makes your Black readers feel seen, like you actually cared about that character enough to give them just as much description as your nonblack characters. You don’t have to be a master at it! Just… occasionally the little things that we can go ‘oh, yeah!’ at would be nice. An equivalent effort would be nice.

Remember, it’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

[pathologicalreid]

don't say nothing | S.R.

gemini part two

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: softdom!spencer, "good girl" (you can tear it out of my cold dead hands), alcohol, fwb, oral fixation, consent, idiots in love, praise kink, gun violence, jealous spencer? unprotected pinv sex, word count: 3.73k a/n: posting smut twice in a row who the fuck am i?? anyways, everyone's favorite idiots in love are back. i used the song don't say nothing by del water gap to provide me with inspiration.

part one

please say something, cause I've been growing lonesomer each day

Penelope threw her arms up in frustration as you walked through the front door of O’Keefe’s, “I was beginning to think you were ditching us.” She got up from the booth, letting you slide in so that you were next to the wall – across the table from Spencer.

Things with him were as awkward as ever. The two of you were like a rubber band getting stretched, every time the tension became too much, you snapped and ended up in bed together - or in the academy showers, but that was just the one time. Looking at him now, the rubber band felt taut.

“I took the liberty of getting you this,” Garcia announced, a broad smile on her face as she pushed the glass toward you.

Raising your eyebrows, you eyed the beverage suspiciously before taking a tentative sip. An undetermined liquor slid down your throat as you tried to hide the distaste from your expression. Penelope had a taste for sweet, sugary drinks, it was the main reason she usually ended up puking first at girls’ night.

Spencer noted the look on your face, discreetly sliding his glass of water toward you. Thank you, you mouthed to him, earning a slight smile in return. “So, where’s this friend of a friend that you’re trying to set Y/N up with?” Luke asked, standing at the open end of the table.

In your periphery, you saw the smile immediately drop off Spencer’s face. Feeling his eyes on you, you shifted on the supple leather of the booth and looked over at Penelope.

“He said he’d show up later,” she said, lifting her own glass to her lips and sipping out of the straw.

That was enough for you to know that it would never work between the two of you. You needed someone who was punctual. Someone who wouldn’t ghost you at the last moment. Huffing, you sat back in the seat, wondering how long you’d have to stay out before it was socially acceptable to go home.

You took about thirty minutes before asking your teammates to let you out of the booth under the guise of needing fresh air. Luke asked if you wanted to move out to the patio, but you waved him off before walking out the front door.

The spring air kissed your skin as you avoided pedestrians until you made it to the outer wall of the bar, leaning against the cool bricks and sighing.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, walking out of the bar, and approaching you.

Avoiding eye contact, you watched people’s shoes as they walked by – heels, sneakers, sandals. “I’m fine, Spence,” you answered simply as your heart begged you to meet his hazel eyes.

You closed your eyes as he reached out, gingerly placing his hand flat on your ribcage. “You had a close call last week,” he said matter-of-factly, referring to a shot you had taken to the chest while on a case last week.

Shrugging, you opened your eyes again, “I was wearing my vest, barely even hurts anymore.” Spencer had been on sabbatical at the time, but he still came to visit you during your overnight stay in the hospital. You were left with a gnarly bruise to the ribs, and Emily had benched you for two weeks.

Tired of your refusal to meet his eyes, Spencer hooked a finger beneath your chin, lifting it until you could make out the gold of his eyes. He looked through the window of the bar, checking for something before he tugged you further from the glass. You didn’t have the time to ask him what he was looking for before his lips were on yours in the alleyway.

Spencer Reid had a habit of kissing you like you were a last meal, with open, messy kisses that made your lovelorn chest ache.

“Garcia’s friend didn’t show up?” He asked, pulling away from you just enough to get the words out.

Shaking your head, you reached up a hand and threaded your fingers through his hair, “Nope.” You cocked your head to the side as the two of you fell into your familiar pattern, “I’m glad I didn’t agree to the date. Could’ve been a fatal blow to my self-esteem,” you told him while thinking of a good way to navigate your current situation.

He also had a habit of making your mind go blank when his lips were on you, and you almost lost it when he groaned against your mouth, “His loss.”

Your breath hitched when he used his knee to part your legs, placing an agonizing pressure on your sex as you resisted the urge to grind on his thigh.

“Hey, Y/N?” He murmured in your ear before pressing gentle kisses on the side of your throat.

Humming, you bit your lip, “Yeah?”

Detaching his lips from the soft skin of your neck, Spencer pulled away to look at you, “Thank you for not agreeing to the date.”

Your body slouched against the wall, “I can’t do this again,” you confessed. The words slipped out of your mouth too easily for it to be a lie, even if you never meant for them to come out.

Spencer took a step back, removing himself from you entirely, “What do you mean?” He asked, watching as you frantically smoothed down the front of your dress and caught your breath.

“Why do I keep doing this to myself?” You muttered helplessly, once again averting your eyes from the man standing in front of you. Taking a shaky breath, your heart pounded so violently in your chest that you thought it might burst.

Catching out at you, he firmly placed his hands on either side of your waist before you could walk away from him. “Baby, what are you talking about?” He asked you urgently.

There it was again, baby. It was like a key in a lock, causing everything to pour out of you. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Isn’t that funny? You’re there, haunting my every move, and none of me occupies even a fragment of your mind.”

Recognition flashed in his eyes as he processed what you were saying to him, “It’s me?” He said, hazel eyes flickering over your face.

“Of course, it’s you, Spencer,” you said exasperatedly, afraid of years of longing coming out in a random alleyway in the district. Tears pricked at your eyes as you silently pleaded for him to say something.

Bewilderment was pasted on his face as he opened his mouth to speak, shut it, and then opened it again. “The person. Your one person that you’d say yes to. I’m your one.” He clarified, trying to get a hold on the situation.

Nodding miserably, you reached up and placed your hand over your heart as if you could staunch your bleeding heart, “You’re my one, and every time we’re together, you’re thinking about someone else.” It wasn’t an accusation; you knew he had feelings for someone else. He had told you just as much at Dave and Krystall’s wedding. Two months ago. Wiping underneath your eyes, you gathered whatever was left of your dignity and walked away from the situation.

As you walked back to your car, you were vaguely aware of people staring at you. You knew that you had played just as big of a role in your own destruction as Spencer had, maybe even more. You never should’ve had sex at the wedding, but you had sought comfort in one another.

Fishing around in your purse, you pulled your keys out, only for them to be scooped from your hands. “Hey!” You shouted in frustration, gaining the attention of passersby as they wondered whether or not they needed to call 911 or stay out of a lover’s quarrel. Shooting daggers at Spencer, you refrained from stomping your foot in frustration lest you look like a petulant child. “Give me my keys, Spencer,” you insisted, holding your hand out impatiently.

“Not until you talk to me,” he responded. He was out of breath, meaning he had run to catch up with you – a feat in and of itself.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, “There’s nothing left to talk about, Spencer.”

He took a moment to catch his breath before looking around, “There is everything to talk about. I have to talk to you.”

Weighing your options, you reached out for your car keys, which he let you take, and unlocked the car. “Get in,” you offered halfheartedly, wiping your cheeks before getting into the driver’s seat.

Silently, you started the drive, taking a right onto the next street. “This isn’t the way to your apartment,” Spencer observed anxiously.

You shook your head as you turned on your turn signal to merge onto the highway, “No, it’s the way to yours.”

Residences had been off-limits during your illicit affair, but each member of the BAU had the ability to get to each other’s homes. It was more of a safety concern than anything else. Since you’d never been to Spencer’s apartment before, you needed him to guide you through the lobby and up the stairs. To your chagrin, he did that by taking your hand in his and having you follow him.

Looking around once he unlocked the door, the first thing you noticed was that the space was so… Spencer. From the green walls to the stained-glass window to the piles of books, it all just seemed so fitting for him. “Sit,” he said with an authoritative tone as he made his way back to the kitchen, returning with two glasses of water.

“What do you want to say, Reid?” You said, leaning back in an armchair as you looked over at him, taking calculated breaths.

Disappointment filled his eyes, “Don’t call me that.” There was something in his eyes that resembled fear, but you couldn’t quite place the reason.

Narrowing your gaze, you tilted your head to the side and feigned ignorance, “Everyone calls you that.” You challenged, even though you supposed it wasn’t true.

“You don’t,” he responded simply. It was true, over the years you had never called him Reid. Dr. Reid and Spencer Reid, yes, but never just Reid. To you, he had always been Spencer or Spence. “When you do it, it feels so… impersonal. Detached.”

You blinked, not expecting him to have said that. Your relationship with Reid had always been personal. From back when you were just friends to whatever miscellany of emotions you had now. “I didn’t mean for it to be,” you admitted defeatedly, fiddling with the buttons on your cardigan. Although maybe you had intended to detach yourself from the situation by referring to him with a name that felt less personal.

In your periphery, you saw him looking dejectedly at you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Will you please look at me?”

Swallowing thickly, you closed your eyes, “I can’t.” Your voice was no more than a whisper as you admitted the truth, one look in his eyes, and you’d break your heart even worse.

“At first, I thought it was easier for me to just say I was interested in someone else because I was under the impression that you were interested in another man,” Spencer told you candidly. “My idea was that I could keep you close to me until you felt ready to move on, and that would just have to be enough.”

Staring blankly ahead of you, you reached out to grab your water from the coffee table, taking small sips as you struggled to digest what he was saying to you.

You shut your eyes tightly at the vulnerability in the room, opening them to find Spencer knelt in front of you. “What I didn’t realize was that a fraction of you would never be enough, not for me.”

Burying your face in your hands, you avoided his eyes as the gravity of his admission weighed down your shoulders. “Spence,” you begged. He needed to stop. He was toeing the point of no return.

“I am so devastatingly in love with you,” he admitted. “I didn’t know how deeply it ran until the wedding, but I just couldn’t get myself to let you go.”

Spencer pried your hands off of your face, revealing teary eyes. You let your body slide off the chair until you knelt in front of him, knee to knee. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his.

Quickly, he wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling your body flush against his, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you answered, surprised at how easily the words rolled off of your tongue. Taking your time, you slung one arm over his shoulder, reaching the other up so you could put your hand in his hair. You relished in his groan as you tugged lightly at the strands.

You couldn’t help the whine that passed through your lips as he pulled away from you. He got to his feet before helping you up, and once you were standing, his lips were back on yours.

Leading you to what you assumed was his bedroom, you felt your blood heat up as he pushed your cardigan off of your shoulders. As you reached up to undo the buttons on his shirt, you grinned against his lips.

Sat on the edge of his bed, you parted your knees and pulled his shirt from where it was tucked into his pants before fumbling with his belt buckle. Disconnecting your lips so that you could look at what you were doing, he took the opportunity to duck his head and take your earlobe between his teeth. As he nipped at the soft skin, goosebumps spread where you were bare, leaving you in need of more. More of him.

Once you got his belt undone, you made quick work of the button and zipper on his slacks, sliding them down over his hips and ass while his hands made their way up your dress. “Spence,” you said breathlessly, trying to push his pants further down. Understanding your plea, he stepped out of them entirely, kicking them to the side.

Spencer drew away from you just enough to tug your dress off of your body, tossing it off to the side and gently guiding you so that your back was flat against the mattress. You watched in anticipation as he pulled his t-shirt off, the movement allowing for the tip of his cock to peek over the elastic of his boxers. “You’re so pretty,” he muttered, the softness of the words taking you by surprise, “Always so pretty for me, baby.” He gently traced his finger over your bruise as a shadow of worry crossed his features, but it was gone as quickly as it showed up.

His words spurred you on to pull at his underwear, trying to take them off, but you simply didn’t have the arm span to do it on your own. “I wanna touch you,” you confessed, “Can I touch you?”

“I need to be in you,” Spencer answered, pulling his boxers off before kneeling in front of you, eyes widening when your legs fell open. Expertly, he hooked his fingers in the sides of your underwear, dragging them off in one swift motion and leaving the both of you completely bare.

Your mouth parted when his hand reached your wet heat and two fingers entered you tantalizingly slowly. “I thought- ah- no touching,” you complained. It was a halfhearted complaint because really, there was nothing to be bothered by.  

Reaching down, your hand grabbed his wrist, trying to slow his ministrations. “You’re so responsive for me,” he murmured, continuing to move his fingers in and out of you and watching in fascination as your hips bucked off of the mattress involuntarily.

“Fuck,” You said, screwing your eyes shut as that all too familiar knot started to form in your lower belly. “Spence, baby- I’ll…” A low whine escaped your throat as he withdrew his fingers from your core. “Spencer,” you said in frustration, opening your eyes to see him inspecting your slick that had been left on his fingers.

Like a rehearsed routine, he placed his hand in front of your face, prompting you to incline your head forward and wrap your lips around his index and middle finger. As you swirled your tongue around his fingers, he watched you with an undying interest. “Good girl,” he muttered, the praise causing your sensitive cunt to clench around nothing.

Taking his hand back, you looked down as he used his now free hand to line his cock up with your entrance. Laying one of your hands at the side of your head, he used his other hand to intertwine your fingers before he pushed into you. Instead of tossing your head back like you normally would, you looked up at him, watching as he hilted himself in you. “Spencer,” you whispered.

“Are you alright?” He asked, checking in with you as he placed his free hand on the other side of your head.

You nodded quickly, “It just feels different this time.” Your heart clenched at your own admission. You weren’t using each other as an escape anymore.

Spencer hummed in understanding, leaning down and pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “I love you,” he whispered, “I love you so much.”

Your breath hitched as he tentatively thrust in you like he was testing the waters. “I love you,” you responded in kind, your voice higher than usual.

The response was enough encouragement for Spencer to keep going, he tucked his face in the crook of your neck, gently biting the skin as he set the pace. Small gasps escaped your throat every time his hips met yours.

As usual, your sounds spurred him on, seemingly trying to make you as vocal as possible, he used one hand to reach up and grope your breast. While his fingers pinched at your nipple, you wrapped your legs around his torso, locking your ankles together behind him. He lifted his head, moving his lips against yours in hurried, messy kisses that only aided the knot building in your stomach.

You didn’t have the capacity to warn him before you came undone beneath him, your orgasm coming over you as you whined into his mouth. Your walls clenched around him so tightly that Spencer had a hard time keeping his pace before it became too much.

Sighing contentedly as he filled you, you ran your hands down his back as he continued working through both of your orgasms. You whimpered as he continued fucking his cum into your oversensitive hole until your head went fuzzy, “Spence.”

He stuttered to a stop, staying inside of you for just a beat under he pulled out, causing you to flinch as you were left empty. “Are you alright?” He asked, still breathing heavily – not that you were faring much better.

Nodding, you blinked rapidly as your lungs tried to catch up with the rest of you, “I’m perfect,” you answered dazedly.

Spencer smiled at you, “You are. Perfect, that is.” He sat next to you on the bed, placing a hand on your bare hip, affectionately dragging his fingers over the skin. “You need to go pee,” he said suddenly, furrowing his brows at you.

You couldn’t help it as you erupted in a fit of giggles, resulting in an adorably confused look from Spencer. “Sorry, it’s just you telling me that I need to go pee – it’s funny,” you told him, biting your lip to muffle your laugh.

“Have you not been peeing after sex?” He was clearly appalled as if the idea of you not peeing after sex was abhorrent to him.

Rolling your eyes, you propped yourself up on your elbows, “Of course, I pee after sex, Dr. Reid,” you put extra emphasis on his honorific. “And I will pee just as soon as I’m sure my legs aren’t going to give out of me when I stand up,” you explained to him, reaching out and placing a hand on his knee.

He looked at you seriously, “You know, there are some studies that say the sooner after sex you urinate the less likely you are to contract a UTI.”

“Oh my god,” you said, “Don’t say the word urinate at me while I’m naked in your bed.” You complained, clambering up and making sure you were steady before you walked to the ensuite.

Later on, you were laying in bed next to Spencer, your head was resting on his chest while he kept you tucked into his side. You flinched as a phone started ringing, you sat up and looked around for your phone. Please don’t be a case, you silently hoped as you searched the sheets for your phone.

Once you finally grabbed it, you saw Penelope’s contact flashing across the screen. Swiping the screen, you put the phone up to your ear, hearing loud music on the other end of the call. “Hey, Penny,” you said, smiling as Spencer reached out and pulled you back into him.

You adjusted your t-shirt over your skin, having made Spencer go out to your car for your go-bag so that you could have clean clothes to sleep in. He slipped his hand under the cotton of your shirt, placing his hand flat on your bare skin. You tried to greet Penelope again when she doesn’t respond.

“Hey!” Her voice chimed in through the speaker, “Where’d you go? Jason just got here!”

Frowning, you pulled your phone away and looked at the time – just past eleven o’clock. You sighed, letting your body meld into Spencer’s, “Tell him that someday he’ll find a girl with equally as atrocious time management skills as him.”

You heard some rambling on the other side of the call, and wondered how many members of the BAU made it out this late. “Okay, but where are you?”

Humming, you peered up at Spencer who had, unsurprisingly, pulled out a book to read before bed. “I’m right where I need to be,” you told her earnestly, wondering if she could hear your voice's smile as Spencer kissed your forehead softly.

tagged, if you asked for a part two: @donttrustlove @jumpingjackalope @bippityboppityboob1tch @makingbloodbaths1 @sammyreidslut

@evvy96 @mus3y @nnab @basicallynotbreathing @hell0kitty11

@tatilolz @radioactiveinvisible @lamentis-10 @k-corbett @discotitsposts

[via-l0ve]

Dating Carlisle Cullen HCs!

a/n: was the requested? absolutely not. am i a slut for daddy cullen? abso-fuckin-lutley

warnings: fluff, smut, swearing, im lowkey an edward hater in this i’m sorry, smut is fem!reader based!! dating daddy carlisle

- when you guys hang out at night /alone he’s all over you

- he holds you, lays on your chest, plays with your hair while you sit inbetween his legs SHSSUWHEISN

- he plays with your fingers while you guys are around other people and he gets a little nervous

- like if your hanging out with friends he’ll play with your fingers and hands, twist around your bracelets and rings

- i love him he’s so soft

- he desperately tries to stop you from popping pimples and blackheads

- “y/n sTOP”

- sometimes you’ll laugh at stuff he says bc it sounds so old fashioned

- he attempts to make you food and most of the time it’s amazing but usually when you two cook it almost always ends up burnt or undercooked or missing an ingredient

- bc he gets distracted by your stupid jokes that sometimes result in a food fight

- carlisle would do anything for you

- literally one time you brought up wanting to go to disneyland because they do a mardi gras parade and he almost bought plane tickets right then and there

- “what’re you doing?”

- “buying plane tickets.”

- “what??? STOP-“

- he loves how you hate when he spends money on you

- it makes him want to do it more

- you both have multiple matching things

- bracelets, rings, necklaces, etc

- he bought you this EXPENSIVE bracelet once and you almost passed out on the spot

- it has your and carlisle’s initials engraved into it and it’s your favorite color

- he lets you paint his nails frequently

- he loves when you do little designs on them too

- he loves being the person you feel comfortable ranting to

- it breaks his heart when he opens his door and sees you with puffy eyes and a red nose, tears reminiscent on your face

- he lets you in and picks you up, speeding you to his bedroom

- he grabs you a big t-shirt and a pair of his boxers and tells you to shower or change before talking about it

- and then after that he does whatever you want

- sometimes he’ll comb your hair while you rant to him, or make you some tea on the kitchen island while you talk to him about what happened

- he’d totally sit you on the counter and cut up + feed you fruit and clean the juice from your chin. im sobbing

- 100% takes care of your stuffed animals

- he would love how you bond with his “kids”

- you and emmett would totally play horror games together

- emmett and you are this clip:

https://youtube.com/clip/UgkxJdszrIKDCtmfnyVLdhVwf2sGqLcJ6NBU

- honestly either of you could be rhett/link and it would still make sense

- you lowkey make fun of edward ngl

- i feel like he plays games with you and emmett too and he sucks ass

- carlisle looses his shit when he hears you make a gooddamn good roast of him and you can hear him laughing from upstairs

- alice constantly tries to buy you clothes she thinks not only you, but also carlisle would like

- Rosalie would confide in you a lot

- tbh it took her a hot minute to warm up to you but when she saw how happy carlisle was with you she gave you a chance

- jasper loves you tbh

- he games w/ u and emmett and you guys kick ass in rocket league

- sometimes Carlisle will just stare at you for no reason

- you’ll catch him and he won’t break eye contact and you get all flustered and look away

- and proceed to look back to see him still staring

- “what’re you looking at?”

- “just you. :)”

- “okay but why”

- “youre beautiful.”

- “get a room!” ~ emmett

- reminds your to take ur medication

- after meeting your family, he’s always down to babysit with you or go to family reunions or vacations

- if it’s a sunny place he’ll just busy himself with work inside

- always liking ur instagram posts

- he always comments on them too

- just a simple “i love you” or “gorgeous🩷”

——— smut time

- respect and consent king

- wouldn’t dream of hurting you/degrading you ever

- he loves tits. sorry not sorry it’s true

- he’ll play w/ ur nipples and leave hickeys on ur boobs

- fucking looses it when you moan his name

- like, if you do that he’s giving you literally everything he has

- his fav position is missionary or when you ride him but you face him

- specifically if he’s sitting in his office chair and you get ontop of him and-

- makes your legs SHAKE

- he has his hands on your hips while you ride him bc that’s hot

- literally adores your body

- he couldn’t care less of your stomach pokes out or if you have love handles or stretch marks

- he loves you for you

- PRAISE

- this man loves to make you blush and he knows exactly how to do it in bed

- master at giving you head

- literally knows exactly what to do and how you like it done

- fucking dies when you ride his face

- like it’s not a thing that he wants he NEEDS it

- he pays attention to your body movements and how you react to certain things

- he’s the typa guy to get on his knees and eat you out

- tongue around ur clit and fingers inside you pumping in and out and moving around inside to touch your g-spot

[ourautumn86]

bad idea

+18 eddie munson x fem! reader

synopsis; whatever you do… don’t you ever take an aphrodisiac with your best friend (who you secretly love), or do… We all have good bad ideas.

REMINDER: english is not my mother language so i apologize if there are some mistakes <3 ! either ways, i hope y’all like it<3

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<3

cw; no use of y/n, use of pet names (angel, sweetheart, gorgeous, baby…) cursing, dirty talk, daddy kink, aphrodisiac (as a drug and drug mentions!), teasing, throat/mouth fucking (w fingers too <3), cum eating, breeding kink, dacryphilia (kinda??), a lil’ tiny bit of perv! eddie, smut, p in v sex, cock warming, overstimulation, squirting, choking, non protected sex (GUYS STDS ARE REAL, WRAP THE DONG UP), cream pie, finger fucking, oral sex (f and m receiving), hair pulling, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms… MINORS DNI!!!

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

a/n; THANKS FOR THE 1K FOLLOWERS, Y’ALL MADE ME SO HAPPY IT’s INSANE

this was so fun to make! hope you all love it!<333

‘You need to open up wider, sweetheart.’

Eddie was really stupid. You loved him, and he has been your best friend your whole life. But he was stupid. The biggest idiot in the world… But if he was the biggest stupid in the world then you were the second.

When Eddie started to sell weed you were scared at first for him in case Hopper ever caught him, but he never did and never will. Eddie was cautious. Knew what he was doing and how to do it. And he did it great. He was sly, and had a lot of clients. Clients that he did everything to try and please, so much that he tried every new type of drug that fell into his hands to make sure he was giving no shit. He took pride on his quality.

And you swore to try every and each of one of them. You had your good trips and bad trips. Took care of each other and always stood safe. You knew your limits. Or that’s what you thought.

‘Cause you should have known that this was a really bad idea. You knew that it was dangerous, and crossed a line a little… sensitive. But once again you were stupid. Really stupid. And you liked your best friend too much to think straight.

“You want me to take an aphrodisiac…, with you.” you tried and clarify as Eddie stood there, all wide eyed and smiley with two pink little pills on his hand.

“Yeah.” he nodded.

“…” “Okay.” you shrugged, not thinking twice to on swallowing the pill along with him.

If only you knew what of a great mistake that was…

Or maybe not.

-

You were horny, so horny that you couldn’t stop your thighs from pressing against each other, trying hard for your best friend, which stood seated on his bed next to you, to not notice. You were listening to some music, waiting for the drug to take effect. It was fast. Too fast.

Your whole skin grew on goosebumps, your cheeks flushing and body running hot, so hot you were melting. You tried not to. Not to think about how nice he looked, the way he licked his lips every few seconds as if his mouth were dry. You tried not to stare too much at him, not to breath too hard or you’ll inhale his perfume, which seemed to be everywhere. And you surely tried to not let your mind get filled with scenarios in which your best friend shouldn’t be participating with you. But it was no luck, you failed the very moment you noticed the bulge that had grown under the sweats that he wore to stay comfy on his house.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Eddie was suffering. His eyes away from you as best as he could. He couldn’t stop too much to stare at your bare legs and plushy thighs or he’ll for sure burst on his pants like a complete 13 year old virgin who just found out what porn was. And your tits… God, he always tried and avoid thinking about your nipples pressing against his tee-shirts —which you borrowed every day—, and the way you just casually stopped wearing bras around him. But now was impossible, since you were wearing his Hell Fire shirt and he could see just how erect your nipples were through the white of it. He wanted to lick them, wanted to suck on them so bad, kiss your chest and leave you full of marks, fuck his cock in between your tits and paint them on his cum…

Shit. Shit. Shit.

His dick was incredibly hard, leaking on his thigh and twitching in need of attention. His breath hitched when he tried and reposition it inside his pants, biting down on his lip to not let out a groan due to the pressure.

You were seating one next to another, shoulders almost brushing, hands almost touching. And you needed to touch him so bad… So bad, oh god.

You couldn’t stop thinking about what he had told you about his sexual encounters. About what he had found he liked the most.

It was no big deal. You and Eddie didn’t keep secrets from one another, and somehow along the way, the theme had just… came up. So you had talked about it. A lot. And it was no big deal, ‘was’, or so you tried to convince yourself. But now… Now it was a big deal.

You couldn’t stop wondering if he would treat you as he treated all of those other girls. If he would choke you, spank you, praise you… You wondered what position would make you feel him the best. How far would his dick go down your throat? You would love to suck his dick. You wanted to call him daddy too. Knowing that he would probably fuck you harder, like he once told you he had fucked a girl after it.

You needed to know, needed to know how he would eat you out. Needed to know how big he was.

Shit.

You were breathing heavily, your eyes on the veins of his arms and hands, those hands that you’ve dreamed with so many times, those fingers that you had pretended and were the ones fucking your cunt when you touched yourself.

The tension inside the room could be cut with a knife. And you were the only ones in the trailer since Wayne was working a double shift.

You couldn’t look at each other. Or at least you did as if you hadn’t caught the other staring… ‘Cause Eddie’s mind was getting too fuzzy and his attempts to stop staring at you slowly started to be less and less effective. He just couldn’t get the image of fucking you right there and then, with his tee-shirt on, and fill you up with his cum over and over again until you couldn’t stop crying due to how full you felt. He couldn’t stop thinking about playing with that little button that he for sure knew would make you scream, the tightness and wetness of your pussy…

God, he shouldn’t be feeling this way about his best friend, the one that he had grown up with… But he did, and always had.

“It’s…” he jolted when your voice suddenly filled the room, taking him by surprise. “It’s good.” you awkwardly smiled, still not looking at him.

It was good as fuck. So good that it had you soaking through your short jeans.

“Yeah…” he breathed out, feeling his cock stir just by hearing your voice on his pants as he scoffed and repositioned himself on the bed. He wanted to know how good you would sound moaning his name.

You gasped when your skin made contact, both your hands brushing the slightest, but still enough to make your skin grow on goosebumps.

Eddie looked at you and then at your hands. His cheeks were flushed, and his lips looked all red and swollen, as he hadn’t stopped biting on them.

You thought he would move away then, but surprisingly enough he made your hands brush again, getting the same reaction out of you.

You were shivering when he turned your hand on his own. You stared at him with furrowed eyebrows, confused. But he simply looked into your eyes and started caressing your palm. Slowly, teasingly…

He knew what he was doing. You could see it in his eyes. In the little smirk that was trying to appear on his lips.

Your breath hitched, wherever his fingertips touched felt like your skin was mixing up with his.

You only could look into his eyes, into his stupidly beautiful dark brown eyes which pupils were blown.

You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t. Your throat was tied in knots and your stomach was burning with suck need that was making you feel dizzy. Maybe that’s why you did what you did, but before you knew it you were taking his teasing hand and slowly raising it up to your lips.

Eddie’s breathing was heavy when your lips parted and you nipped on his fingertips, your cheeks hollowing around two of his fingers when you pushed them inside your mouth. You never stopped staring at him as your tongue started to swirl his fingers, teasing, inviting…

He groaned, and your pussy clenched around nothing, gagging when he suddenly thrusted his fingers deeper inside your mouth. “Uh-uh…” he clicked his tongue. “You need to open up wider, sweetheart.” you did as he told you, this time feeling his fingers down your throat. “That’s it, good girl.” his praise was low, his voice making you shiver and moan around his fingers. He smirked when you took his wrist to push his hand closer, his fingers deeper. You needed more. You needed him to fuck your mouth, use your throat and make you gag all around him. “Oh, well isn’t that pathetic… Look at you. Why so needy, hm?” you whimpered, and his dick twitched so hard he had to breath in the best he could. Shit, you looked so pretty. “My girl just needed something to suck on, isn’t that right? Your mouth was feeling empty, huh?” he inquired and you nodded, your teary eyes staring into his own. He wanted to make you cry. On your mind his words playing over and over again. ‘My girl, my girl, my girl, my girl…’ “Poor baby, having such a hard time…” he shook his head. “Maybe I should help you, what do you think, hm?” his heart skipped a beat when you pushed his fingers out of your mouth, still connected by a string of spit that he so badly wanted to lick.

“Please, Eddie, please, please, please…” you begged, and even if you didn’t ‘knew’, you knew you were in too deep now. Your brain was completely disconnected, you couldn’t think straight, the only thing in your mind being your oh so pretty best friend, and his lips, and his eyes, and his…

You gulped when he smirked, his hand guiding yours towards his crotch, his dick reacting to your touch with a tug that you felt through the sweats. He was hard, so hard your mouth was watering.

“Go ahead, sweetheart.” he said, and you had never been so fast in your life at tugging someone else’s pants down. The boxers disappeared just as fast, and your eyes widened when his cock slapped his stomach when it was finally freed. It was so big…, so big that you couldn’t stop the moan that left your lips, making Eddie groan. His tip was the most beautiful pink you have ever seen, fully leaking and all pearly with his pre-cum. He was long, and a couple of veins popped on his shaft. You could only imagine how good it will feel dragging up and down your walls. You were salivating, with your knees tucked below your butt for him, kneeling on the bed. “Here, let me help you, baby.” he said before taking your hair in one of his hands, collecting all of it in some kind of a ponytail that would allow him to fuck your throat harder and see those beautiful eyes of yours tear up as you took him in your mouth. He had been dreaming about this moment since he could remember, and he sure as hell was going to fully enjoy it. He was going to take it all in.

He groaned when your lips took his head, your tongue tasting the musk and saltiness of the beads on the slit, which made you hum. Eddie had to try really hard to not cum right there and then, his balls so full it was painful.

“There you go.” he sighed, watching as you slowly started to fuck his cock into your mouth.

You could almost cry of happiness and relief. He felt so heavy on your mouth, so warm and so big… You only wanted to choke on it, wanted him to leave your throat sore and swollen from thrusting on it. You didn’t care, you just needed it, even if that made you unable to talk tomorrow morning.

“So greedy…” he chucked when you took too much of him and gagged, pulling yourself off of him to take a deep breath, your hand on your base, which pooled with your spit. “I know what you want.” you let out a little shriek when he suddenly pulled at your hair towards his cock, making you take him once again in your mouth, fucking your throat. “Been wanting me to fuck this tight throat of yours, huh? Isn’t that right, doll?” he panted when your nails dug on the flesh of his thighs, your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to contain your gagging and breath through your nose. “Been wanting me to use you like a simple little toy, hm? Fuck your mouth full of my cum.” you moaned, making him do it as well at the feeling. “Shit. You look so pretty taking me so good, choking on my cock and letting me use you like a fucking slut. Fuck, been thinking about you sucking my cock for years.”

Eddie moaned when one of your hands took his balls and rolled them in between your fingers. They were heavy and full for you, ready to stuff you up with his cum and get you all fucked out and pretty for him.

“Yeah, that’s it. Good girl, shit, you’re gonna make me cum so hard…” he groaned, struggling to maintain his eyes open, getting too lost on the squelching of your mouth, on the feeling of your tongue and throat, of your hands on his balls, on the tears on your eyes and the whimpers and moans that you were letting out only for him to hear. “Fuck.” he was close. He could feel it, the drug making him impossible for him to hold it much more due to how turned on and sensitive he was. “I’m gonna cum.” he moaned, and before you knew it, he was filling your throat with his white, heavy and creamy seed. You sighed in pleasure, milking him with your mouth as he rode out his orgasm with a groan.

He let go of your hair, and you let his dick fall out of your mouth with a pop, not before having cleaned his head with your tongue and having swallowed his seed just like the good girl he knew you were.

“Fuck.” he groaned before he harshly pulled you in, crashing your lips together in a searing kiss that had you moaning in his mouth and left your legs shaking.

Your hands found his hair as he pushed his tongue inside your mouth, humming when he tasted himself in it. He needed to drink you up, needed you to ride his face and leave him tasting of you, needed you to leave his face all soaked with your juices.

“Now it’s my turn.” he said, and you didn’t argue when he popped the bottom of your shot jeans open. “God, angel.” he groaned when he saw the little lace pink panties that you were wearing, which now stood completely soaked with your slick. “Is this for me?” you moaned when his fingers touched you over the lace, pushing the slightest between your wet and warm folds. You nodded, whimpering a ‘yes’, feeling blissed by his touch. It was everything you had ever dreamed of. Like biting the apple of Eden under the eye of god, like drinking water after days in the sun, like breathing after almost drowning in the sea… Eddie was everything you had dreamed of. Everything you wanted. Everything you needed. “So good for me…” you cried out when he pushed you against the sheets, his mouth latching at your thighs to leave marks that you’d proudly wear tomorrow with your oh so short skirts and dresses. “Why don’t you pull your panties off for me and let me take a look, hm?” you nodded, using your legs to raise your hips and pull your underwear down your thighs. Eddie took care of it, once they were completely off, throwing somewhere on the room’s floor, still taking a mental note to make sure to steal them before you could notice.

You were burning up and dying at the same time.

It was like his touch didn’t exist but filled your senses altogether.

“Oh god.”

Just the simple act of touching, of him kissing you, holding you… Was just so intimate that your bones were breaking in half. It hurt, but hurt so good .

You felt everything ten times stronger.

And you swore your heart was about to stop when his hand disappeared in between your legs. His touch felt like freezing, but burning at the same time.

“Fuck, angel.” he groaned and you moaned at the sleek that pooled between your tights. You were soaked. You could feel it flowing down your lips to the sheets. “So wet…” Eddie‘s fingers shone with your arousal, which he tasted when he inserted his fingers in his mouth, moaning at the taste. “So sweet…”

Suddenly his head was now inches away from your heat, and you screamed at the first drag of his tongue, lapping at your slick with his eyes closed in pleasure, separating your lips —which hardly stood connected with strings of your arousal— and circling your clit. You could see stars. Even if you had your eyes closed.

“Eddie.” you cried out as he ate you out like a starved animal, devouring you, tasting you as if you were his last meal.

He groaned when your fingers laced in his curls, tugging on them due to the pleasure.

He hummed when your hips rocked against his face when his nose bumped against your clit, his tongue harshly pushing against your hole. “Please…” you didn’t know what you were begging for, but he seemed to understand. He always did.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he plunged two of his fingers on your warm and wet pussy. You couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help the way your grip tightened on his curls, the way your hips rose or the word that fell of your lips in a needy moan.

“Daddy.”

And then he suddenly stopped. He stopped his thrusting, his kisses… Everything stopped. And your gut clenched in need.

“What did you just call me?” he said below a whisper, his dark onyx eyes heavy on you, so heavy you felt crushed.

Your cheeks heat up, but even if you had heard him, you couldn’t listen. “No!” You whimpered, one of your hands reaching to circle his wrists in hopes that he would touch you again, that he would help you subside your thirst for him once again. “Please don’t stop, please!” you were at the verge of tears, you felt so close to cumming, so close that you swore it physically pained you. You needed him, needed him so bad your bones shivered and your whole body trembled.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he pouted, mocking you, although you didn’t care since he was back to curling his fingers inside of you and making pants fell from your lips. “You’re about to cum?” but again, he had stopped, and again, you found yourself pleading him. “If you want to cum, then you’d have to say it.” you knew what he was referring to, but you still found yourself so embarrassed that you could bring yourself to say it. “Come on sweetheart, use that pretty mouth of yours to call me ‘daddy’ again, would you?” your whole body flushed at his smirk, your cheeks so red and hot that you could feel them burning.

But again, even though you were embarrassed to the marrow, it only took a single curl of his fingers to make you dissolve on his hands. “Daddy, please, daddy…” you whimpered, and he smiled.

“That’s my good girl.” you moaned, probably due to his praising, or probably to the fact that his lips were back on your clit, sucking on it ‘till your thighs were shaking on the sides of his face. “Daddy’s good girl.”

You clenched around his fingers with a moan so high that you swore the whole trailer park had heard you as the tension on your lower stomach finally snapped, your pussy gushing on his mouth and fingers, slick that he made sure to lap at to as he helped you ride out your orgasm.

You could feel tears swelling in your eyes at the overstimulation. It was too much, but at the same time not enough.

You needed him, needed his cock, his body, his mouth…

“Eddie, please…” you begged for him with a new tug and he looked at you, his chin and lips completely bathed in you. “Please it’s not enough…” you whimpered. “Please, daddy…”

He groaned, ‘cause he felt the exact same way than you, he could eat you out day and night, he loved it, from your taste to the little sweet sounds that you let out… But he couldn’t stop thinking about stuffing you full, filling you up until he could see his dick bulging in your lower stomach, fuck you so raw and rough that you couldn’t stop screaming, leaving you voiceless the next morning. He wanted to make you cry.

“Fuck.” he was quick to pull his boxers down and get on top of you. “I know baby, I know…” you whimpered when he took place in between your legs, the head of his huge cock gliding through your folds in ease, circling your clit, pushing against your entrance… “Gonna let me fuck you raw, sweetheart? Let me cum inside and fill you up? Get you all round and pretty for me?” you moaned, sensing your whole body shake. You shook your head ‘yes’, crying out a ‘yes please daddy, pleasepleaseplease’ and he almost could cum right there and then.

You let out a quiet scream when he got balls deep inside you in a quick and harsh thrust. You went breathless. He stretched you out like no one would ever do, fill you to the brim, his head abusing your g spot with every new snap of his hips.

“I’m sorry baby.” he moaned as he moved ‘till only the tip stood inside. “I don’t think I’m gonna be able to control myself. I need to fuck you so bad…” you nails dug on his back when he thrusted in again.

“EddieEddieEddieEddie…” you cried out over and over again, the squelching sound of his dick fucking into your wet hole making you so horny that you couldn’t stop the need to move your hips against his, what made him groan and grip your hips to do it for you, but harder. Much much harder. “Shit!” your voice cracked. He rose you up as if you were as light as a feather, making you sit on his cock.

You choked on just how deep it got, it caressed places so deep within you that made breathing harder.

“That’s right baby, fuck, moan for me, you sound so sweet when your voice breaks with every scream.” your jaw was slack, lips parted as he rose you up and down his dick, using you like he could use a toy. You couldn’t stop moaning, moans that came out broken due to how hard he was fucking you and how high and loud your voice was.

Tears were falling from your cheeks with every new thrust, you felt so overstimulated by the drug that it was too much. Too much, but your body desired so much more.

You wanted Eddie to break you, fuck you brainless, make you sob…

The grip on your throat silenced your screams as he choked you, his tongue licking the tears out of your face just to later on lick into your mouth. Spit dribbled out of your lips and painted your chest due to how messy it was. You were a babbling mess. ‘Daddy, daddy, ah, Eddie, shit, ah…’

Eddie groaned and moaned, his eyebrows furrowing when your walls started to clench around him. “Are you gonna come for me, princess? Gonna come on my cock? Gonna come on daddy’s cock?” you nodded, your breathing ragged as you whimpered slurred ‘yes, yes, yes…’. Your g spot was being abused with every new jump, your clit, being caressed by two of his fingers. Your nails dug on his shoulders, your head falling backwards and a scream leaving your lips. You rode him in need of a release and he knew that, his lips on your neck, sucking bruises that made you lose your mind. “Then come.” your whole body seemed to die and come back to life then, your high hitting you so hard your ears rung and your sight went white. Eddie moaned when he felt it, the warmth of your cum surrounding his dick, painting his cock in white, and he almost came when he watched it pool at the base of his cock like a white ring.

He had you back on your back, taking your legs and pushing them agains your chest, fucking into you so hard that hit your cervix over and over again.

You though that your high would go down, but instead, you found yourself screaming when it only seemed to go higher and higher.

“Eddie, I’m gonna, I’m gonna…” you found yourself coming again, right after your first.

“Oh shit sweetheart, did you just came twice?” you where digging your nails on his biceps as tears rolled down your cheeks and onto the pillow, soaking the sheets. You were letting out cracked and short moans that got cut with every thrust of his. “Fuck, you drive me insane.”

And yet you felt like you were gonna die.

“Eddie, stop, stop…” you cried out due to the overstimulation, still feeling your body scream for more, your ‘o’ slurred and dragged. “Something’s gonna—“

Before you could finish your sentence, your back was arching and your pushy gushing as it’s walls fluttered around Eddie’s cock, which now stood soaked with your squirting.

“Fuck.” he moaned when he saw it, his hips snapping harder and harder against you, following the amazing feeling for your tight, warm cunt. You kept squirting over and over again as Eddie praised and teased you under his breath. “Are you feeling good, princess? Look at you, all messed up on my dick. So pretty soaking my sheets.”

He was close, so fucking close that moans started to fall from his lips, his hips stuttering as his high reached him. “Gonna fill you real nice, gorgeous. Gonna leave you so full your pussy’s gonna be dripping. Gonna look so pretty when I fuck it back into you.”

And with a final grunt he came, his load creamy, hot and heavy inside you. You moaned at the feeling, pushing him deeper inside you. You needed him deeper. He let go of your legs, which fell around him, trembling and twitching, as he fell on top of you, his lips on your neck.

He stood there for a couple of minutes, just kissing you, hugging you. But you could feel it, you could still fell the burning feeling that the drug had left you with, feel his dick growing inside of you. When you least expected it, he had turned you over, pushing your body against the duvet and starting to fuck into you once again.

“Sorry angel, just one more.” you couldn’t say no, not when he was fucking you so good and nice, not when you needed him so bad you felt like drowning.

Your nails dug in the bed sheets, your moans and screams being muffled by his pillow, which was getting wet with your drooling and new tears.

“Good girl, taking me so good… Pussy so tight and wet for me, sucking me in so nice…” you screamed when one of his hands sneaked in between your legs and under your stomach to start circling your clit, in just a mere seconds slowly starting to build another orgasm, as strong as the rest. “Can feel you clenching, sweetheart. Are you gonna come again? Gonna soak my sheets for me once more?” before you could even answer, you were falling apart, droplets falling down your tights. “Fuck.”

This time it only took a couple more hard and deep thrusts for Eddie to cum, overstimulated by the recent orgasm and the incredible feeling of your own.

You whimpered, feeling so full your stomach would bulge with his cum.

You felt boneless when he slowly and softly took you with him to your side, cuddling you with his cock still buried deep into your full cunt. You sighed at the feeling, so drunk on him, so in love with the soft kisses that he left on your shoulders, the sweet words that he whispered in your ear. ‘You did so good for me, angel.’ ‘You’re so beautiful, so, so beautiful sweetheart.’ ‘Such a good girl for me…’

“Gonna let me keep it inside you all night like the good girl you are, huh? Gonna let me fuck you up all pretty tomorrow morning too, isn’t that right baby?” you nodded, letting out a little whimper that made him hum.

Eddie was stupid, and you were stupid too. And you two were stupidly in love with each other.

Stupid, isn’t it?

-

[crdteezv]

Untitled - Han

Paring: !childhood friends to lovers! , perv!han jisung  x afab! reader

Genre:  idol! Au, smut

Synopsis: You finally reunited with your childhood best friend after 10 years! But, you didn’t notice how much he changed since you last saw each other…

Warnings:  smut, rough sex, dub/non-con, somno, dirty talk, teasing, kissing, fingering, groping, use of sex toys, voyeurism, manhandling, overstimulation, unprotected sex 

Word Count: 2.5k words

A/n: This was requested by someone a long time ago and I decided to post it now. This does contain CNC (aka consensual non consent) & if that’s something you’re not comfortable with please DON’T READ THIS!!!

One late night, you and Jisung were in a convenience store. He was up late in the studio working on a song with Chan. On his way home, he thought he should stop by and grab some food.  You so happened to be there wanting the same thing. The aisles were really small and you had barely any room to walk around. You accidentally bump into him and he looks at you with a confused look. 

Then it hit him.

You both used to be childhood friends and practically grew up with each other. You were also neighbors at one point and used to hang out all the time. Sadly at the beginning of high school, you had to move away. You both lost contact with each other and haven’t spoken since then. 

“Hey, do you remember me? Han Jisung? We used to be neighbors and would hang out all the time.”

In that moment all the memories you shared with him came back. You were shocked, to say the least. Who would’ve thought you would reunite with Jisung in a convenience store of all places?

“OH MY GOD YES! I do remember you, Jising how have you been?”

He was so relieved that you remembered him. It's been over 10 years since you last saw each other. Even after all this time, he can still recall your beautiful smile.

“I’ve been good and I took your advice and focused on music! I am now a part of an Idol group. Thank you for always motivating me to become an Idol.”

“Aww of course! I still can’t believe you remember me telling you to go for it. That was such a long time ago. I was just a kid and would just be saying whatever really.”

"Well, how could I forget someone like you? You were my best friend - I was too shy to talk to anyone else."

Both of you shared a laugh. Jisung usually stuck to his close friends and found it difficult to make new ones. As he mentioned, you were his only true best friend.

“Well, I knew you would love pursuing a music career! I recently moved back here for school!”

♡♡♡♡

From that point on you and Jisung talked the whole night, he even walked you home. You exchanged numbers and would hang out when you both could. One thing led to another and he asked you officially on a date. You both knew you had feelings for each other. 

You and Jisung got into a relationship not too long ago after that. It’s only been about 5 months and still very fresh and new. Sadly, after dating for 2 months, he had to go on a tour with all the members. So the majority of your relationship was long-distance. You still were learning so much about each other at this point. 

However, people can change in the span of 10 years. Although Jisung was still the same kind-hearted and witty guy,  you knew something was different about him. 

Jisung became such a pervert for you and you didn’t even know it. 

It only took you guys reconnecting recently to realize how obsessed he was with you. Before you started dating, he would sometimes come over to your apartment late as a surprise. Given how often he was at your place, you had given him a spare key. 

One night he left the studio early and went straight to your place because he missed your company. He entered your apartment and kept calling out your name. He was confused when he didn’t hear you give a response back. He saw that your bedroom was opened a little bit and you were moaning out loud. He was taken aback by what he was seeing right now. He always would think of you in a sexual light but this was too much for him. 

Your legs were spread open as you used your dildo. You let your imagination go wild and imagine Jisung was the one pounding into you. You were so horny you even moaned out his name.

He felt so hard after seeing all the things you were doing to yourself. He also felt really bad because he knew he was not even supposed to be here right now. He just wanted to watch a movie with you like he always does before he goes home. Jisung always loved watching movies with you, especially the cheesy romance movies. You would both make fun of the actors and how bad their acting was.

Instead, he was outside of your room stroking his cock to your moans. 

He was imagining that he was making you feel this good. He tried to not make a noise so you didn’t suspect anything. It wouldn’t even matter anyway because you were too busy in your own world fucking yourself to the thought of him. He eventually came at the same time that you did. 

Jisung realized how perverted he was jerking himself outside of your room without you even knowing. He quickly cleaned up himself and left your place before you noticed. He never told you about that night.

There are a lot of things he doesn’t tell you.

Sometimes you would send him some scandalous photos of yourself to see if you look good. You would ask him so you can get a guy's perspective on it. 

However, he would secretly save them on his phone and beat off to them later. He always tells himself he will delete them and will never do it again. Yet, every time he is horny, he keeps on going back to those photos in his folder of you and gains so much gratification from it.

He was so obsessed with you that every little thing you did would turn him on. The way you put him in a trance from just your moans alone was insane. All he can think about is the first time he caught you getting off to him. 

Now ever since you have been dating, you guys see each other less since he recently went on tour.  All these nights you guys would spend without each other was so hard for him. It was so bad to the point that he would sometimes hide in the hotel bathroom and jerk off to your pics and videos he still had saved of you. 

This was so embarrassing for him and he already felt like shit doing all this behind your back. But, he was too far gone give a fuck about it now. He always thinks about how disgusted you’d probably feel if you ever found out about his secret collection of you. 

He just misses being with you in person instead of calling on FaceTime. It was getting frustrating for him and all he wanted to do is fuck you. 

However, tonight was his last straw and he couldn’t take it anymore. He has been back from touring for about a week now. He took some time to recover before seeing you. He knows the moment he sees you it's going to be over for him.

Unfortunately, he had to be in the studio tonight with Chan and Changbin making some new music. It really sucked because today you and him were supposed to hang out after he was done working. But at the last minute, Chan told him he needed his help on this song he was thinking of making. The whole time Han was thinking about your moans from all the times he would touch himself to you.

He kept on getting distracted and barely gave any help to Chan and Changbin.

“Hey Jisung, are you okay? You’re normally not this quiet.” Chan said.

Jisung knew that he wasn’t ok.

All he wanted to do was go to your apartment and fuck the shit out of you. He has been pent up for too long now. You and him only had sex a handful of times and you have been without each other for 3 months.

“Yeah, I'm just a little distracted right now. Sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be much help tonight.”

“Hey, it’s ok! I know how tired you may feel after the tour so you can go home tonight. Have a good night!”

Jisung nodded his head and quickly left the studio. There was only one thing on his mind right now.

You.

He went straight to your place and opened the door with his key. He noticed you were asleep, lying on your side. Under the covers, you had your vibrator in your hands, and you were passed out on the bed.

That alone made him so hard. The thought of you using it and moaning out his name is driving him crazy. 

He started taking off his clothes leaving himself in just his boxers. He gets into bed with you, wrapping his arms around you. You were barely awake but you leaned back against him not even realizing he was there with you. 

He started grinding against you and became hard for you. He couldn’t hold back and started grunting out loud. At this point, you started to wake up. You felt afraid as the room was dark, making it hard for you to realize that it was Jisung. In your drowsy state, you half-awake, you thought he was an intruder.

You start to panic.

“Hey, who is there? Get the fuck off of me-”

You started hearing a buzzing sound. 

It was your vibrator and he started to push it against your clit to try and make you stop talking.

“Shh sweetie it’s me. I am sorry you just got me soo fucking hard and I can’t take it anymore.”

You were in a state of shock and disbelief. You have never seen Jisung like this before.

“Mhmm I know you’re but I already came and I am too tired to do it again. Can’t we just do it in the morning?”

If only it was that simple.

Jisung's patience was running thin and he decided to not hold back anymore.

He covered your mouth and whispered in your ear and said 

“I’m sorry baby, but tonight I am going to take what I want. And right now I need you to just let me fuck you.”

At this point, you were squirming around and yelling at him to stop it. You really weren’t in the mood for all this. He kept getting agitated and started putting his hand around your neck and began choking you. As he did that he started marking you and biting your neck and shoulders. With his other hand, he started to pump into his cock and get off to your cries and whimpers. 

“You're squirming so much for me baby and I think it's so cute. The more you struggle, the harder you’re gonna get me"

You couldn’t believe what Jisung was saying to you right now. Your perception of him completely changed now. You thought he was sweet-hearted and nice and not such a creep and pervert. 

He couldn’t take it anymore and started lowering his boxers and took out his cock. 

You can already feel the precum that was escaping him and how needy he was for you. He started slowly pushing it in you. You gasped out so loud even though he was covering your mouth. 

You forgot how big he was.

He also put his hands under your shirt and held onto them as he started pounding up into you. He also had the vibrator on your clit too.  He started leaving hickeys all over your neck. He didn’t care what he was doing at this point he was marking where he felt like it. 

You were still whining and crying from how hard he is fucking you and the vibrator on your clit wasn’t making it any better. 

“Stop making so much noise sweetie, I already feel bad as is.”

You started crying at this point because all you want for him is to stop but he just keeps on going. He says such sinful stuff in your ear that you don’t even know how to feel at this point.

He started laughing at you crying from his dick,

“Aww baby, are you crying from how hard I’m fucking you? You’re so pathetic can’t even take a couple of hard strokes.”

You didn’t know why but for some reason when he said that you started to tighten up around him. That alone made you feel wetter. 

He noticed it.

“Mhmm look at you becoming such a good girl for me. I knew deep down you secretly wanted this.”

You kept shaking your head, displaying that you were against this.

That just made him more hard and started fuck you harder and harder. You started to become so dizzy from all this stimulation. 

Jisung was at his breaking point.

 All this overstimulation started to become overwhelming for you. You wondered why he wasn't pulling out, as he usually does when you both are close. However, this time, he continues without stopping, still thrusting into you.

“ I am sorry but tonight, I have to finish inside you. I have been waiting for 3 fucking months. So how about you be good to me and take what I give you ok darling?”

At this point, you couldn’t take it anymore. 

He took his hand off your mouth as you both came at the same time. You didn’t give a fuck at this point you were practically screaming out his name as he pumps his load into you. Both your moans were so loud you wouldn’t be shocked if your neighbors heard you. 

Jisung fell back beside you and pulled you into him. He put you on his chest and wrapped his arms around you. He started kissing you all over and said

“Sweetie, I’m sorry for the way I acted out tonight. I just missed being with you these past 3 months. Especially being inside of you. Fuck I missed that soo much and having you moan out my name.”

You nuzzled into his chest and said “Yeah it's okay and I missed you so much too. Next time just tell me whenever you're in the mood. Tonight you really scared me. I hope you don’t act like this again.”

“Fine, I’ll never act out like that ever again and I am truly sorry if I hurt you.”

However, you both knew that wasn’t true and he would always come to take what he wants…

[ryndicate]

Double Down ⨳ Yoshida, Denji

“Didn’t know you were into that stuff.”

warnings: fem body/pronouns, nudes posted without permission, drug use, exhibition, creampie, videos taken with permission, stepcest, infidelity, masturbation, handjob, some spit mentions, premature ejac, implied fuckery, implied theft, if there's more i am just too wacked out to see it so lemme know!

event: @bastardblvd 's slimeball alley collab !! my first submission of who knows how many to come, im gonna try to not go crazy with it, promise

notes: didn't realize until it was done that I could've made it much more slimy but its okay. We'll get 'em next time babes 😩 this idea is expanding on a little blurb I put in cassie's inbox once, i included it in the fic itself with some itty bitty changes

By expanding, you are consenting to viewing adult/dark content, and all warnings listed above. 18+ Minors DNI

Blog Rules/DNI

Your fist slams on the bathroom door. “I swear to god, Denji! Where the fuck did you get those! Delete them now!”

“I already told you, Power found them online!” Your stepbrother yells back through the door, keeping his weight against the handle so that you can’t force your way in.

“You’re full of shit you fucking perv! You took them off my phone or something.”

“Wanna fucking bet? The real perv is that prettyboy bastard you call baby,” Denji sneers back, yelping as you get a good shove in on the creaking wood.

Your efforts to break the bathroom door pause. “The hell’re you talking about?”

“I told you he was trouble the day you two met. What—you think I was lying?”

You growl under your breath at the barenecked taunt in Denji’s voice. Yeah he told you, one time before he got high out of his mind. The only reason you even met Yoshida Hirofumi was because he hooked your stepbrother up a couple times, and you begged to tag along once. That situation ended with your brother counting stars on his buddy’s ceiling while you saw them on the backs of your eyelids with the guy’s lips wrapped around your clit. 

One thing led to another, and that “prettyboy bastard” became your boyfriend. He’s a bit of an ass, but Yoshida’s also sweet and funny, doesn’t roll his eyes at your music choices, doesn’t bat an eye when you want to go out with your friends, and is full of sexy, smirky sass that makes him so fun to be around. Sure, you sent him some photos, but he wouldn’t have put them out anywhere.

Your anger deflates, but your indignance does not. You step away from the bathroom door. “He’s got nothing to do with this.”

Denji throws the door open with a toothy grin, repeating himself. “You wanna bet?”

“You know what, yeah!” you snap at him, crossing your arms as he leans in the doorway, still looking smug. 

“Your boyfriend put your pics up on OnlyFans, and he’s using the money to pay for his xanny. If I’m right, you two gotta upload a video. Together,” Denji states, his eyebrows furrowed in twisted delight that makes you sneer at him.

“You’re disgusting!”

“Yeah? Tell me what you get if you win.”

Caught up in his childish bullshit, you push at his shoulder. “You gotta start an OnlyFans if you’re wrong, which you are. And you gotta wear lingerie.”

His smirk full drops at that, and he glares at you, cheeks darkerning. “Now who’s a perv.”

“This whole shit was your idea!”

“Lingerie?”

“How is wearing lingerie worse than telling your stepsister to fuck and post a video about it?!”

“Shut up!”

“And since we’re on the topic, I swear to god if you don’t stop taking my shit out of the laundry I’m gonna tell that redheaded lady at the DMV that she’s at the very top of your fap list.”

His blush deepens and he palms your face backwards in a light push. “The fuck she is. Shut up.”

“Yeah well, me and the thin fucking walls in this apartment would have to disagree.”

“Go find your boyfriend.”

“‘M gonna.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck him,” you hiss in barely supressed rage, gripping your boyfriend’s phone so tight you’re disappointed when it doesn’t crack. 

You’d waited for his high to hit him and let him drift off before going through his phone—what’s the point of asking him outright if it’s not true, right? No reason to stir the pot. But your stomach had dropped with unease when the account site was in his search history; you tried to brush it off as maybe he gets off to a set of camgirls, but the moment you saw the login info presaved—as in frequent entry—you began to forget the bet altogether.

Now your jaw is clenched, seething as you scroll through every racy picture you ever sent him. Each have thousands of views, hundreds of comments and jeez—so many subscribers. The heat of betrayal simmers through you. Your jaw drops at the total that’s set to drop into his account at the end of the week and resist the urge to slap Yoshida awake, but instead you set about trying to change the banking and login info, only to get halted by an infowall. Frustrated, you slip off the bed and call your stepbrother, edging into Yoshida’s bathroom so you don’t wake him up.

“You were right, and you fucking knew it, didn’t you? You set me up.” you hiss into the device as soon as he picks up with a mumbled ‘sup. You can hear voices and music in the background, paired with light explosions. You assume he’s out with his friends, probably gaming like usual. 

“You didn’t have to agree. Wait—” there’s the sound of the phone moving around and suddenly the music is gone. “Does that mean you’re gonna do it?”

“That’s besides the point, Denji!”

“Oh fuck, you are!”

“Chill your boner,” you snap, “‘m not gonna do it unless you help me!”

“Help you? What, like you want me to hold the camera or something?”

“Denji, I swear to god—”

“I’m kidding, jeez.”

“I can’t change the account info. They’re my pictures, and they’re already out there! He shouldn’t get to make money off of me.”

“Wait, so you want to keep the account?” He asks curiously. You hear a door slamming and wonder if he’s still moving, or if his friends are.

“Dude, we’ll have rent and anything else covered for the whole month with a single week’s drop from this thing. I don’t see a reason not to. I can quit Mcdonald’s!”

“Shit, for real? Lemme talk to Denki, ‘m pretty sure he knows a guy.”

“Thank you,” you coo into the phone.

“Yeah, yeah, just make sure you pay up.” You can hear his pervy smile, and you grumble a sulky fine at him.

“Ok. But he’s gotta do it soon. It pays out in a couple of days.”

“I’ll give him some cash to see if he can do it tonight. Don’t see why he’d say no—" Denji sounds a lot further away from the phone now, "—Oi! Don't bro! Give it back."

A familiar voice purrs into the receiver and you roll your eyes. "Heyyy, princess. You with that Yoshida guy still or are we allowed to hang now?"

"Byeee, Kiri. Tell Kat hi f'me." You hang up with a smile and leave the bathroom, glaring at your supposed boyfriend still sleeping. You never heard him say he was working and you always kinda wondered where he was getting his cash, but you always just thought he was dealing or something. Not the kind of think you ask about. You obviously should’ve asked.

You crawl into his lap and begin sucking on his exposed throat, admiring the sharp lines, the bob of his adam’s apple as thick lashes flutter open. 

“Mmm,” Yoshida moans. “Damn, was I out long?”

“Nah,” you hum, slipping your fingers up his shirt, smoothing over his waistline. “Got bored without you, that’s all.”

“Yeah, baby?” He grins up at you, dark eyes fuzzed out and sultry, and his hands come up to settle on your hips, easing you into a slow grind. “Wanna do something?”

“Mm. Maybe,” you tease softly, pushing his shirt up his chest and leaning down to wrap your lips around his nipples. He groans at the warm, slick suction, arching into your touch. 

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes out, his cock swelling beneath you. 

“Maybe I wanna do something…different.”

Yoshida grins up at you, half-lidded. “Yeah? Like what?”

Your nails make pink lines down his chest as you lean in to whisper in his ear. “What if you fucked me, and we let some people watch?”

His fingers dig into the fat of your waist, his dick thumping beneath you. “Anyone I know?”

Yoshida’s pupils have overtaken his coal irises, and you give him an inviting smile. “No one specific. I was thinking more like…a video or something. I wanna be able to see it later.”

“Holy fuck, baby. That’s sexy,” Yoshida grins up at you. “Didn’t know you were into that stuff.”

“Me either,” you breath softly, rocking yourself over his covered erection.

You’re left to yelp as he displaces you from your seat on his lap and pulls you out of the bed by your wrist with a wide smirk. “Come on.”

“Wait, where are we going?”

“Don’t worry baby, I just wanna pick something up at the Malmart first.”

“Fine, I guess,” you pout at him and his smirk only grows.

“‘S okay, baby. I’ll give you something too.”

“This is not what I meant when I said video, Hirofumi!” you gasp out. Your fingers are splayed out on the hood of his car as you try to stay upright. “Someone could actually see us!”

"If you don't wanna be seen, you gotta cum. Cause I'm not stopping til you cum."

"Fuck, fuck please, just hurry up!" You plead, half your words caught between whines and whimpers as he pounds into you from behind, your skirt flipped over your back.

"You think I'm not fucking you like I mean it?" There's so much smile in his voice that you want to call him on his bullshit for once, but the solid smacking of his hips into yours, the head of his dick pressing as deep as it can go with every thrust quickly makes you forget what you're snapping at him for.

"Just‐just, fucking make cum– ‘fumi!" You're desperately telling yourself you don't want to be seen. It's the middle of the night, so even here, parked under the one of the many lightposts that don’t work in grimetown's 24-hour walmart parking lot, the risk of anyone seeing is slim.

But not zero. Especially with the light from his phone camera shining down on your exposed lower half. You’re like a slutty beacon for whoever might be looking this way.

"I'm working on it baby, you gotta relax." His fingers slide around your waist, brushing past your clit and forcing a frustrated whimper past your lips at the neglect, to drag them through the slick dripping obscenely from your pussy lips. It's dripping to the rusted black hood, making it glisten. He aims the camera down at them before moving it back to the way your pussy clings to his cock. "You're so fucking wet for this, you'd think the whole thing was your idea. Well, most of it was."

You don't answer him, trying to work yourself back on him, chasing that fluttering heat twisting itself tighter and tigher with each passing second.

"Good girl, look at you. Fuck, look how bad you want—"

"Oi! Get the fuck out of here before I—"

Your whole body locks up at the tired but authoritative voice that rings across the lot.

Your boyfriend calls back. "C'mon man, have a heart. Let me finish her off and I'll give you a look." Except his last syllable staggers off with a groan, broken with a laugh as his grip on your hips tightens to a bruising pressure. The vice grip of your cunt has him looking down to sees your juices gush around the girth of his cock, dripping down your thighs to dirty the hood of his car even more. The sight pushes pushes him over and he calls out again, his voice tight but smug.

"Nevermind, we're done here."

He gets one last shot of his cum dripping out of you before closing out the livefeed.

“It’s like four in the morning,” Denji grumbles, rubbing one of his eyes as he cracks his bedroom open further at the sight of you. “Thought you were Power or somethin’, jeez.”

Denji blinks the blur from his eyes, zeroing in on your screen, and you just about hear his pupils expanding. He pulls a shaky inhale and you roll your eyes.

“Done. Bet over, and here’s your damn proof,” you grumble right back, slamming your phone against his chest and shoving your way into his bedroom to flop down into his bed. It had taken over an hour to convince Yoshida back to his place and get him to fool around enough for him to pass out and you to sneak back home.

"Also Kiri wants you to call him back. He's mad you hung up on him."

A small grin curls your lips but you don't respond, wiggling deeper into his mattress until you're comfortable.

He throws himself down in the bed next to you. “Turn on my speakers.” 

“Or you could just wear headphones, you freak.”

“Nah. Turn ‘em on.”

With an exaggerated sigh, you stretch out to reach up to his desk, turning on the bluetooth speakers that he usually uses to be a nuisance when he’s smoking. “If your dad was home, I’d kill you for this.”

“You’re not even breaking up with him, are you?” Denji chortles, ignoring your bickering. His eyes are glued to the screen as he shoves a hand into his loosened shorts. “What the fuck, you guys were outside?”

You shrug. The video’s only been up for a couple hours and it already has triple the views and donations of all the photos Yoshida has put up so far. “Looks like he’s gonna be making me lots of money, so why not? It’s the least he could do to pay me back.”

Your stepbrother doesn’t answer you, his breathing getting heavier. You close your eyes and sigh as the sounds wet sounds and your own whiny moaning starts bouncing off the walls of his room, wondering to yourself if you really sound like that or if part of you was exaggerating because of the camera. The mattress creaks every now and then as his hips jump, his arm brushing your side as he grinds into his own fist. 

You roll to face him, taking in the sound of his stuttered breaths, the muted slick sound of his fist pumping in his shorts. “So what about this gets you so riled up?”

Denji groans, stomach rippling where his shirt is pulled up around his midsection. “I’nno, it’s hot, isn’t it?”

You keep prodding, “What is? Yoshida? Or me?”

He gives a small whine that has your pulse picking up in sick interest, so you continue. “Was Power really the one to find it? Or…you were subbed to the account, weren’t you Denji?”

“Mm- maybe?”

“Shit,” you whisper to yourself, listening to your own voice begging to cum, shifting your weight onto your arm so you can look at him. A strange curiosity has taken over your body. He looks wrecked but his eyes are still on the screen. “Denji, look at me.”

Your body tingles as his eyes tear towards you, but he’s still got a hand around himself, hidden from your eyes. “Can I touch it?”

“You wanna what?” he moans, just barely, teeth digging into his lip.

“Can I jerk you off?”

You’re a little surprised when he actually hesitates. You’ve tolerated it all this time; as much as he pervs out on you, and your stuff, yet somehow he’s got a little crumb of morality left in there somewhere. And right now…you wanna kill it.

“My panties, my pictures…is this really any different?” you ask softly, sweetly, as you run with this electric current, placing your hand over his covered groin. You grin as his hand immediately goes slack at your touch and slips out of his shorts, and you get to feel for the first time how hard he is, rubbing over the smooth fabric, feeling out the shape of him.

“I mean…I guess not.” He sucks in a breath as you grip him over his shorts and give a couple experimental strokes. “B-but what about—?”

Denji’s head drops back to the pillows with a groan, phone in a death grip as you tug his waistband down, his dick slapping free. It’s pretty and slender, flushed deep red.

“What about what?”

“What about prettyboy, huh?” He finally gets it out as you spit in your hand and take him up again, stroking him steadily from base to tip, squeezing at the top with a gentle twist of your wrist. Yoshida always seemed to like it, seems like he does too. 

“That’s what you’re worried about? Not the whole stepsister thing?” You shrug. You’re still stung about Yoshida’s betrayal, so this feels like a little bit of retribution. A little bit. You still need to find more ways to make him pay first, but this is a good start. “Yeah, he’s my boyfriend, but ‘s not like you and me are dating, Denji. It’s a handjob. What’re you gonna do, marry me?”

Denji splutters and his dick throbs in your hand. “Don- Don’t say stupid shit!”

You coo at him and his lips part, panting hard as you work him faster. 

“What– haa, what if it wasn’t just a handjob? What then?” Denji gives a low moan as you settle over his lower thighs so you can gently cup his balls. They seem to tighten under your touch, before he relaxes and he tries to look at you. 

“What, like my mouth or something?” you ask playfully, leaning over and showing him your tongue, letting a strand of spit drip down to his dick.

A litany of curses tumblr from his mouth as Denji squeezes his eyes shut, fingers twisting into the pillow beneath his head as his cock jerks and shoots a load of hot sticky white into your palm, getting smeared down his throbbing shaft as you slowly work him through his high until only a couple dribbles get pressed out by a final pass of your thumb over his slit.

“Wasn’t expecting you to finish already.” You wipe your hand off on his comforter and try to ignore the throbbing in your panties. You feel like you can still imagine the slick from earlier tonight seeping out of you, but it’s as if it’s no longer enough.

“Holy fuck,” he mumbles under his breath, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes as he calms his breathing enough to raise himself up on his forearms. He watches you as you take your phone and flop down next to him. “I didn’t even get to see the rest of the video.”

“It’s online now, freak. You can watch it whenever.”

“Yeah...” 

You’re too busy trying to go through the account settings to notice the way he’s eyeing up your thighs; he hasn’t even put his dick away yet. 

“Hey,” he mutters softly, ignoring your glare when he puts a hand on your thighs and pulls them open. “If you can touch me, does that mean I get to touch you?”

Your pulse jumps and you try to keep your true thoughts hidden as you hide back behind your phone. “I guess that’s fair. If you wanted to.”

You can hear the click of Denji’s throat as he swallows, and you can’t stop the low whimper as his calloused fingers brush your inner thigh, right at the edge of your panties. 

They’re warm as they brush over the seat of your panties, timid but curious as they explore the surface, stroking over the tempting warmth and wet seeping through the thin fabric. A bolt of pleasure bursts and has your gut clenching as he swirls over your clothed clit

“H-hey, wait,” you say suddenly, nerves getting the better of you as you try to make sense of Denji taking control of your body. “It got switch but this isn’t my banking info. Is it yours?” You flip the screen towards him, and his brown eyes squint in the pale blue light.

“Uh, nah, that’s not mine.”

You mewl as he pulls your panties to the side and traces a finger through your folds, delicate, hungry. “Who did you say– mm, h-hacked the account for me?”

“I told you. M’friend Denki, his buddy did it. That purple-haired guy who works at the smoke shop.”

“The one wi—” you suck in a breath as he sinks his index finger into you. “With the tattoos?”

“Yeah him,” Denji mumbles, hardly paying attention to your words. He’s grinding against the bed as he pushes his middle in alongside it, imagining the tight squeeze around his dick instead.

Your groan is part pleasure, part dismay as you realize just who he’s talking about. “Oh fuck me.”

Denji bullies his way between your thighs in an instant.

“N-no, Den– that’s not what I meant!”

[everparanoid]

Make me lose my breath, make me water ┃Wriothesley

pairing: f!reader x wriothesley

genre: fluff , NSFW

rating: 18+

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !

tags: Cunnilingus, consent is hot, Reader is from Natlan, cuffs used inappropriately, Body Worship, My First Smut, Fontaine is France but it's not but it is, PWF, PWP, Mutual Pining, No use of y/n, Reader is Not Traveler (Genshin Impact), Creampie, biting kink, Written After 4.1 Update, Minor spoilers for 4.0 quest, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Light Bondage, light orgasm denial

wordcount: 6.1k

synopsis: The notorious Duke of the fortress of Meropide hasn't been on his A-game lately, and it shows.

Originally posted: 25.10.23 on AO3

a/n: I am now reposting my AO3 stuff onto tumblr. If you know me....no, you don't. ;) Also check out my AO3 for more wriothesley fics.

Song Inspiration: 'Water' by Tyla.

Three quick knocks rattled the door to his large office. The sound echoed up to the second floor where his desk resided.

“Come in,” Wriothesley said not looking up from his papers.

Wriothesley was a busy man. Well, being the Duke of the self-running, man-powered Fortress of Meropide wasn’t an easy job. It wasn’t exhausting either, but that was beside the point.

He took a slow prolonged sip from his teacup. The second sip in the last hour; the flavoured water had long since cooled from the general chill in the office. Not that he could feel anything beyond the normal chill of the underwater Fortress; and with the added benefit of his cryo vision he considered himself well-suited for the climate. That didn’t mean he didn’t miss the sun. Although, he could see the sun whenever he found a reason to leave the fortress, which he often didn’t.

He sighed for the fifth time that hour.

“I hear you’ve been doing that a lot,” You said ascending the spiralled staircase.

He paused and lowered his teacup, placing it on the small pile of report papers he was using as a mat. One side of his lips raised threatening to become a half smile. He quickly wiped it away.

“Oh? Have I now?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said, your voice smooth and confident. “I think I’m going to have to report you to Sigewinne.”

“Am I to assume she isn’t the one who sent you?”

His eyes met yours as you arrived atop the stairs, a hand on your hip and that sassy look in your eyes that he had grown fond of. He realised now why he had been so distracted.

He missed you.

You often frequented the fortress. First as a commissioned messenger between Wriothesley and Neuvillette, then a ‘convict’, and after that a friend and now… he didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to complain about the company. It was nice having someone as into tea as he was. Not that he would admit it, but it got lonely in the Fortress sometimes. More so since he met you.

“What? You afraid of a couple of stickers?”

“You know about that?” he grumbled, glancing at the pile of crumpled Melusine stickers littering the side of his desk, freshly pulled off the back of his coat.

“I have ears everywhere, Your Grace,” you smirk, withholding the crucial fact that you were the culprit providing the stickers for Sigewinne and her Melusine friends. They paid you back in giggles and smiles, and just the joy on their small faces was enough for you.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You probably know more about what’s happening in my humble home than me,” he said. Only a half lie on his part. You had an aptitude for making tough things bend to your will. Him being the toughest of things in question. He dismissed the thought of you flashing that blinding smile at anyone other than him.

Your shoulders rose and fell as a melodic laugh left your lips and graced his ears. If he could keep your voice in a bottle, he would.

You shook your head and pushed off the railing. His attention remained on you as you took a seat on the settee a bit away from his desk.  His throat—as if he hadn’t just taken a sip of his cold tea— felt overwhelmingly dry. He cleared it gently and picked up his teacup.

“How’s the Traveler and Paimon?” he asked, taking a sip.

The flavoured water was colder. He needed to calm down lest he froze the entire thing. He imagined you would be the only one to find amusement in him sipping ice.

You crossed your legs, and your skirt rode up. He looked away respectfully, much to his dismay and the favour of his quickly deteriorating will. He didn’t remember when it happened. When he started seeing you as more than just the middle woman between Neuvillette and himself; more than just a pawn in this game against the fatui, but now he found himself knowing the way your cheek dimpled slightly only on your right cheek when you laugh; how the skin around your eyes crow when you yawn or squint; how you change to fix your posture every thirty minutes when you’re lost in a book, and your neck starts to get sore, and your lower back begs to be stretched out. He pulled himself out of his thoughts before they had a chance to spiral further.

“They send their regards and a thank you for your help with ‘the situation,’” you said making air quotes. You didn’t mention how you didn’t plan to return to them for a while, but some things were best left unsaid with Wriothesley.  

Wriothesley nodded and gestured for you to join him in for some tea.

“If you have some time, of course,” he finished.

“Of course, If you are offering,” you responded. 

You went to stand but Wriothesley beat you to it. Thankful for the excuse to busy himself with something other than your smouldering presence. If he was an icy avalanche, then you were like a raging inferno, melting him into warm water. Perhaps it had something to do with the pyro vision dangling from your hip. He glanced at the vision and caught a glimpse of your bare legs. He froze, curious about what colour you might be wearing underneath your skirt: black, white, blue, red? Instead, he was beyond relieved when he saw black shorts. He breathed a sigh. That’s so you.

“I can heat the pot, you know?” you say, growing increasingly more tired of his strange mood and equally as obscure silence. Never had Wriothesley sighed so much. Honestly, you never would have considered him a sigher; more a hmpher or a quiet snickering type.

You and everyone in Fontaine who had the pleasure or misfortune—mostly the misfortune—of knowing the Duke, knew that recently he had been off. In truth, your visit hadn’t been to express Neuvillette’s message (though that made a great cover). No, you were there because of a chain of strange letters from Sigewinne, given to you by an equally as annoyed Clorinde, telling you of the Duke’s bizarre behaviour. According to these letters, he was more attentive than usual. He had appeared around the fortress checking in on the production zones and the inmates an alarming number of four times in the last month, nearly causing several heart attacks amongst the inmates, which as a result caused Sigewinne to be on high alert from all the overworking; he hasn’t been partaking in as many fights in the ring, and he hasn’t been drinking as much tea.

It was the last two on the list that shocked you the most and was most of the reason why you were there now. Wriothesley not drinking tea? Was Fontaine’s archon a fraud?

Uncrossing your legs, you stood and approached him. Placing a hand on the teapot, you heated the water with your vision.

“Let me do that," you said.

You sounded more breathless than you had intended to, but being so close to him does that to you. He always managed to take your breath away, but you had stupidly thought that with time those senseless reactions would die upon learning more about the mysterious brutish duke. The way all crushes faded when the mystic i.e., the lack of information and the delusions of projection, disappeared. Instead, it seemed to have only worsened. A butterfly somersaulted in your stomach when you accidentally brushed your hand against his.

Wriothesley stiffened. The touch went straight to his gut.

“Why are you here?” he responded smoothly, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Not that he was concerned about why you were here—he couldn’t be happier—but you were supposed to be away for the next six months on a quest with the traveler to your home region, Natlan. Had Sigewinne called you back out of concern for him? He had to be more careful around the small nurse in the future.

“Your tea collection isn’t as depleted as usual,” you observed, staring into the box filled with other miniature boxes of tea, skilfully deflecting the question.

“An interrogation. You’re making me nervous,” he joked. “I am a busy man, I don’t always have time for tea.”

The look you fixed him with was not amused.

“You always drink at least three cups a day,” you said putting stress on the ‘at least.’ If it wasn’t tea, it would be a terrible addiction.

“Wow, you’re counting? I’m impressed.”

“Which flavour do you want?”  you said, ignoring him.

“The special blend.”

Without a second thought, you plopped the tea bag into the teapot and left it to brew.

It was your favourite, and that is why he chose it. He was more of a black tea or green tea kind of person, but the special blend he had made specifically for you. You didn’t know that though; you didn’t have to, he enjoyed hearing your quiet hums of happiness with each sip. It was great fodder for his late-night thoughts.

His heart warmed, as the skin around your eyes crowed the way he loved. Loved? He cleared his throat.

“You aren’t booking yourself as many fights. Which I would be happy about if I thought it didn’t directly correlate to why you’re acting so strange,” you lectured, and to him, you sounded like a particular short blue-haired Melusine.

“I can’t help but feel that you are worried about me,” he jested.

“As anyone would be about a friend,” you said.

Friend? Yes, that was what you were. Friends.

“Friends. Yes,” he agreed albeit stiffly.

You gave him a cautious side-eye unsure as to why his tone hurt you.

The word left a bitter taste in Wriothesley’s mouth and when you offered to fill his cup again, he accepted. Suddenly needing the soothing numbing effects of his tea more than ever. You topped up his cup before you poured the heated water into the teacup that had unintentionally become yours.

 Wriothesley didn’t let anyone else use it. It was superstitious really, and he didn’t consider himself a superstitious person. However, he worried that if he let anyone else use it you suddenly won’t come back one day. Not that you would be able to tell the difference if he did let someone else use the cup; all the teacups he owned looked exactly alike, but yours was different. It was a cup with a little chip on the rim near the handle from when you decided to have your tea with Neuvillette, Clorinde, the traveler and himself after the recent troubles with the Fatui. Your cup had chipped due to the heat of your hand; he could recall the horror on your face when he informed you how much each cup cost after letting you ramble on about owing him another cup.

You eventually fell into a comfortable silence sitting together on the settee.

“Clorinde has been visiting you a lot recently,” you said from behind your teacup. You took another sip.

Wriothesley recalled his earlier meeting with the champion dualist.

“Yes, we had some tea.”

“Really?”

“Jealous?”

You turned away.

“There is no need to be, I assure you,” he said, feeling a deep sense of relief at the way you seemed so bothered by his meeting with your mutual friend. The same friend who had been lecturing him about his ‘mutual’ feelings for you. Perhaps it was because of your reaction, that he realised that Clorinde might have been right. Or he was delusional? Maybe it was both.

Wriothesley placed his mug down on the coffee table. His hand brushed your bare thigh and you both jolt.

“Who says I am jealous?” You snapped, your lip twitching.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because your lip twitches when you’re upset, and your pyro vision makes you heat the things around you without abandon. Your eyes lose that spark which makes them look like the spotlights guarding Meropide, and you refuse to look at me because you know I’ll see right through you. And I do. I see you.”

He took another sip from his tea, pretending to not notice your tea bubbling in your hand, and the crack growing on the side of the teacup.

“It’s not nice to make jokes like that, Your Grace,” you said nervously.

Your eyes darted about the office settling on anything but him. The bookshelves looked fuller than usual. Has he been reading more books?

“Indeed. It is not but come on you should know me better than that by now. I never joke about things like this,” he said. His voice was clear and sincere. “Is it so strange that I would want to give a few words of praise out of genuine adoration?”

Especially since he saw the way you’re reacting; he knew that it was real and not a fantasy from his misguided thoughts. He wouldn’t lose this opportunity to make his feelings clear. He was a straightforward guy, after all. When he knew what he wanted was within his reach he wouldn’t simply pass it up. It would be unjust. He wanted to watch you smile, to be the one that caused that smile; he wanted to be the first person you went to when something good happened in your life; he wanted to feel your skin and not just in passing touches; he wanted to let it scold him, to embrace the flames.

“Ah, it seems I have ruined the mood,” he said smoothly.

He stood.

You went to stand too, but when you did the boiling liquid in your teacup splashed your hand. You hissed and dropped it. The porcelain shattered against the metal ground; the liquid spilt everywhere.

Wriothesley sat back down on the settee and took your warm hand in his immediately not sparing a second to glance down at his soaked boots. They encased yours and worked to chill the burn; one of the many benefits of having a cryo vision. The two of you couldn't be any more different. Fire and ice co-exist? Impossible.  Unimaginable. Dangerous. The tenderness in which he held your hand sets your heart ablaze as if it wasn’t already. Had he been telling the truth? You knew the Duke better than most, and with that knowledge you know he wasn’t the type to lie about that, but did he mean it? Could he mean it?

“I’m sorry,” you said.

Wriothesley’s attention remained on the forming boil on your soft skin. He soothed it gently, trying not to give you frost-burn. Thankfully the natural heat of your skin stopped his cryo from hurting you further.

“For what?” he responded softly, bringing your hand up to his lips and breathing out cool frosty air. You felt like mush, and if it weren’t for the dull ache in your hand you would have snatched up the opportunity to run said hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. It always looked so soft and maybe he would allow you to touch it.

You pulled a face between flustered and self-loathing.

“That was one of your expensive teacups,” you managed to choke out.

He continued to blow cool air onto your hand.

“There will be other teacups,” he says, his lips barely an inch from your skin.

You wanted to melt on the spot.

“But—“

He sighed and said your name sternly looking up at you through the haze of dark lashes.

“Why would I worry about a teacup when you are hurt?” he asked and lowered your hand from his lips. “In any case, I should apologise for ruining a perfectly good meeting. If you have said all you need to say then—”

You waved your hands, flabbergasting him as you snatched them from his cool encasing, momentarily forgetting about the burn, and cutting him off mid-speech.

“No, you didn’t,” you yelped.

He half smiled at the scarlet tint of your ears, and taking your burnt hand back into his, he proceeded to gently apply cryo to the festering burn.

“Ah, is that so?” he chuckled. “Alright then, how will you pay me back?”

“Huh?”

“You broke my favourite teacup, after all. So—“ he said your name with a hint of mischief in his smooth voice. “How will you pay me back?”

“That’s not fair!” You straightened in your seat. “How can that be your favourite teacup when they all look the same? Are you just saying that to make me feel worse than I already do?”

He cocked a brow and tugged you forward. You fell into him, your free hand coming to rest on his lower abdominal. Your nose brushed his, and you felt his cool breath against your cheeks. His breathe smelt of spearmint. Your lips twitched and you tried to focus on the scar under his eye (the one you’ve always wanted to trace with the tips of your fingers) so as to not meet his icy blue stare, or to glance down at the obvious smirk on his lips. You wanted to kiss him; you could kiss him; would he let you kiss him?

Wriothesley watched your tongue dart out to swipe across your lips; he wanted to bite it; but he had more control than that. He had an image to uphold. The Duke was supposed to be fair and reasonable; he was supposed to lead by example and be a neutral figure of respect and reverence, not a brute without self-control. He pushed you back gently, hoping beyond hope that in your shock you haven’t noticed how hard he was.

“Kidding, of course,” he drawled.

Anger coloured your face and you punched his shoulder, half seriously. You hissed and shake your still very much wounded hand. You had been duelling partners for a while when you had spent a significant amount of time in the Fortress pretending to be a convict back when you were neither friend nor whatever you were now. He’d only agreed to it at the time because you managed to beat everyone and nearly him.

“You are breathtaking,” he muttered. “Come on let’s get you to Sigewinne.”

He stood and offered you his hand.

Your heart stuttered. Even though you weren’t native to Fontaine you were well-versed in their mother language, but even then, you didn’t believe your ears.

“What?” you asked.

He chuckled again, a deep and hearty sound.

“When will I stop doubting the ears of a seasoned traveler,” he said out loud although it was meant for his ears alone. He must have been mentioning your mutual friend, the blond traveler, and their small pixie pie companion, Paimon. You have been accompanying them on a few commissions and quests here and there, especially through Natlan. Which kept you away from Fontaine for significant periods of time, much to Wriothesley’s silent dismay.

However, he would never keep something so precious away from the light. He tried to keep a pet once—not that you were a pet—but he soon realised that it was wrong to keep something meant to be in the sun away from it. And if he couldn’t do it to a small animal then he definitely couldn’t do that to you. You were a traveller, not even native to Fontaine. Although you have made it clear countless amounts of times that Fontaine is your favourite region; he can’t help but feel like you weren’t meant to be chained to one place. He won’t be your administrator, the fortress won’t be your prison, and he couldn’t imagine keeping you in this cage with him. He refused to, even if his more selfish desires would have you cuffed to his desk where he could gaze upon you forever till you hated him and wished him gone.

“No, I want to talk first,” you said.

“I assure you we can talk after your hand has been seen too.”

“Wriothesley.”

Your tone went straight to his cock. You have never said his name, at least not his face. Even when you’re both around your mutual ‘friends’ you still have only ever called him ‘your grace.’ He wanted to hear you say his name again. He wanted to hear you say his name breathlessly, desperately, whilst you crumbled into each other. He cleared his throat and walked across his office hoping that the distance would stop you from noticing the obvious tent in trousers. He fiddled with the cuffs on his hips to distract himself and pulled at his tie.

“You really should go…to Sigewinne,” he said.

You approached him. He turned away from you facing a bookshelf. You brushed your fingertips to his forearm feeling the chilling aura around his skin. You expected him to pull away, for him to stop you from going past the point of no return, but he didn’t.

“Wriothesley,” you said his name again, this time with a wistful air. You don’t even realise you’re saying it. You never said it; not to him, only to the crisp cold darkness when your back arched on your sheets late into the night.

“Say it again,” he said.

“What?”

“My name. Say it again.”

Your eyes widened as you realised your mistake. You have always tried not to say his name to separate your lustful fantasies from the real man.

He faced you, capturing your gaze and with it your heart too in his glacial eyes that looked so warm. “Please.”

You couldn’t help but obey. His name slipped out in a hushed prayer: “Wriothesley.”

In turn, he said yours; just as quiet, just as wanting.

“You really should go to Sigewinne,” he said and ghosts his thumb along your jaw.

“What if I don’t want to?” you stepped closer. “What if I want to stay right here?”

His expression darkened.

“You shouldn’t,” he said with no bite behind it.

You didn’t budge.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked, sounding way more desperate than you intended. Before you could cringe at yourself, he had you caged in his arms, mouth cold against yours. He groaned when you bit down on this bottom lip, and for the first time, you felt his thick erection brush against your stomach.

None of your wildest fantasies could compare to the reality of kissing Wriothesley and any pain in your hand disappeared altogether. He kissed you like you’re the only thing tethering him to the earth; like you were his last gulp of air before he dissolved into primordial water.

He tugged on your shirt.

“If you don’t take this thing off right now I’m going to rip it,” he said, his breath laboured.

You reached under your shirt, and he helped you slip it over your head. He threw it away and pulled you into another kiss. His hand wrapped in your hair.

You took off his tie and his waistcoat, his usual fur coat was already draped on the back of his large red chair. He stopped you unbuttoning his shirt, shaking his head, trailing kisses along your jaw, and down your neck as he walked you backwards to his desk. He unclasped your bra. He watched it slide down your arms and then tossed it somewhere that was going to be your future you’s problem.

“Up,” he ordered.

You jumped up, wrapping your arms around his neck. He grasped the underside of your thighs and placed you down on the free space of his grand desk.

He bit your shoulder, and you moaned out his name in a way that had him almost feral. He lapped at the wound and kissed it. You threw your head back biting down on your lip. He continued leaving kisses and nibbles along your collarbone, slowly lowering until your breasts were under his hungry gaze. You suddenly felt nervous. You wouldn’t say you were insecure in your looks. You knew that your looks were something to behold and of which you were very proud. They’ve come in handy in your many jobs as many times as they have caused unnecessary issues but being under the watchful gaze of Wriothesley felt different… intimate. You tried to bring your hands up to cover yourself. Wriothesley caught your wrists, looking up at you from his crouched position.

“Don’t you dare. You’re beautiful.”

“Wriothesley,” you said.

“If you aren’t comfortable, we can stop,” he assured you, although the words pained him and his dick, consent was king—always. If you weren’t comfortable, he could always sort himself out later. You were the most important thing to him. He let go of your wrists and you dropped them, letting him feast his eyes on your breasts.

“Don’t stop. Please.”

“Are you sure?” he asked again.

“Yes.”

“If you change your mind, just tell me and we’ll stop,” he said. “Give me a safe word.”

“Cake,” you instantly responded.

“Cake?” He cocked a brow. “Cake, it is.”

Without a moment spared, he grasped your breasts and planted a kiss there, dragging his lips over your nipples in a way that made you shiver. He smiled to himself at the occasional whimpers that left you; even more pleased that he was the one causing them.

“I love the noises you make. I love your voice. I’m obsessed with it. I wish to capture it and listen to it whenever you’re away,” he groaned.

He dragged his tongue down, further, and further until he was on his knees, he pushed up your skirt that had been bothering him since you crossed your gorgeous legs earlier. He was tempted to have you keep it on when he fucked you, for no other reason than the thought that the next time you decided to wear that poor excuse of a skirt he knew all you would be able to think about was how he messed you up in it. The thought brought him immense pleasure.

 He slid his hands into your shorts, squeezing your thighs. The flimsy piece of black material and whatever surprise underwear beneath it were the only things keeping him from what he wanted. He wanted to taste you. He wanted to feel how you’ll curl on his tongue; he wanted to feel you gripping his hair and screaming his name as he brought you to a high only he could give you.

“These damn shorts,” he grumbled.

“I climb mountains. How else am I going to keep myself comfortable?” you asked.

He tutted and tore them open; the fabric did not put up much of a fight at all.

“I guess you won’t be climbing mountains anytime soon,” he said guiding the torn fabric down your legs.

“Those were my favourites, you brute.”

He winked up at you.

“Ah, I suppose that makes us even,” he drawled.

Was he thinking about that damn teacup right now?

“How are you?” He said, checking in on you.

“Good.”

He smiled and your heart melted a little.

He froze when he took in the sight of your lingerie.

“Were you thinking of me when you bought these?”

“Don’t get too cocky,” you said.

“Too late.”

You bit your lip. It hadn’t been intentional, your underwear matching the colour of his eyes. He trailed his nose up the soaked fabric brushing your clit. You grabbed his hair at the stimulation. You felt the beginnings of the scruff threatening to break out of his chin tickling you as he guided your lingerie aside and gave your clit an ardent lick. Wriothesley wasn’t big on savoury treats, but you weren’t savoury, you tasted like you, and you were fast becoming his favourite dessert.

“You taste divine,” he said.

“Oh Archons,” you muttered.

“They won’t hear you down here,” he said.

It didn’t take long before your toes were curling, and you were chanting his name. Wriothesley gripped your thigh with one hand and fingered you with the other, stretching you out in preparation for him; because if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that you were going to cum around him. He was going to feel the way you would clench around him; he was going to watch your blissed-out face twist as he fucked you hard into his desk. Although he would love to feel you climax on his face there would be time for that. He’d be damned if this was the first and only time he had you. You were his. Morals and reputation be damned, he wanted—no, needed to be inside you. He didn’t care if the entirety of Meropide could hear you; in fact, he got off on the thought.

Just when you felt like you were about to climax, he pulled away and licked his lips. You glared at him as he stood and bent over you kissing you softer than before. You could taste yourself on his lips, and instead of it turning you off it spurred you on. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, grinding against his clothed erection.

“Do you trust me?” he asked between heated kisses.

Everything felt wet like you both were melting, and you probably were. If so, you didn’t care, becoming water wasn’t half bad if it was with him. You heard his cuffs before you saw them spinning around the two fingers that had been inside you.

“Right now, no,” you lied.

He half smiled.

“I suppose I deserve that. I guess I’ll just have to persuade you then.”

You untangled from around him. He stepped back unbuttoning his shirt and revealing lean scar-littered skin. You wanted to reach out and so you did, tracing the long jagged discoloured scars, slightly keloid. Some looked fresher than others. He shivered and breathed out a low groan when you grazed over his nipple. He raised his signature cuffs.

“Give me your wrists,” he said.

It clinked when it secured around both wrists. The spiked metal looked so beautiful against your skin; he was almost tempted to throw away the key.

“Oh no, you’ve caught me, your grace,” you teased. Something you shouldn’t have done because the way he looked at you after told you that you had triggered something in him.

“You did break my favourite teacup after all,” he said.

“I thought we were even.”

You watched him slowly unbuckle his belt and step between your legs. There would be time for savouring the moment later, many moments if he could help it but not then. You felt his erection only covered by the thin fabric of his boxers press against your vagina, he leans over you caging you between his arms and the desk.

“Indeed, we are for breaking.” He nibbled on your ear, “but that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. That was an expensive cup you know some flimsy shorts won’t cover the costs. You should know I only play fair, and you got some of the tea on my freshly shined boots.”

Your cuffed hands resting on your stomach fiddled with the lining of his boxers. You lost your breath when he nuzzled into the base of your neck.

“Don’t tease me,” he grunted.

You manage to slip his cock out.

“Says the man who denied me my orgasm.”

You felt his smile on your neck.

He rubbed his cock along your folds but didn’t push in. He wanted to be sure that you’re sure.

“I don’t think friends do this,” he said as he continued to edge your hole.

“Just fuck me already,” you sassed.

He thrust into you, filling you completely. He was thicker than you expected, thicker than you had had before. You couldn’t be more thankful for the earlier foreplay because without it he wouldn’t have fit. He remained still for a while, and you slowly adjusted to his size. The dull ache of the intrusion quickly turned from discomfort to bliss.

“Wriothesley.”

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he breathed. “Don’t stop saying my name.”

You didn’t.

“Good girl,” he said.

The desk jutted, the papers shook, and books slid off the desk smacking the floor in their wake, but the sound was lost to you both. Despite his strong persona, and much to your delight, he didn’t hold back his occasional whimpers, and grunts. The sound blessed your ears like a symphony. Sometime after your first orgasm, he took off the cuffs and threw them to his settee.

He left the occasional bites and kisses on the underside of your jaw, and down to your breasts. You, in turn, added to the long scars down his back, your nails clawing into the flesh. He would treasure those when they scarred.

You guided his face up from your neck, where he had been breathing you in as if he couldn’t get enough of you into his system. In truth, he couldn’t. You kissed him deeply, filling it with all the words you hadn’t yet been able to say. You felt your third climax on the horizon as he hit the same spot that made your back arch.

“Wriothesley,” you said against his mouth. “There.”

He chased your lips.

“That’s it,” he said, rolling his hips. He slipped a hand between your rocking bodies and rubbed your swollen clit. You let out a needy moan.

 “I’ve got you,” he said as you clenched around him.

Your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave of primordial water. He held you to him, as he continued to thrust towards his own high, encasing you in his arms.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he groaned.

 Wriothesley felt like he was on cloud nine. Being with you was entirely different from what he imagined in the best way possible. It felt like a dream having you here, in his arms, pliant to his every desire. In each kiss, he pretended that you felt the same way; that you wanted the same things. He pretended that this moment wasn’t just a moment but forever—because he wanted you forever.

He slowed down prolonging the experience and straightened up looking down at the fucked-out expression on your face. He knew he didn’t look any better. Swiping a hand through his hair, he continued to roll his hip slowly. He placed a hand on your pelvis steadying you. Your body was covered in a sheen of sweat which glistened under the light of the office. He felt like he was melting into you—like you were melting into each other.

“Can I?” he asked.

“Yes,” you answered opening your arms for him, beckoning him home. And truly, to him, you felt like home.

He pushed his damp hair back once again, before leaning over you. With a final grunt and a spam of your walls around him, he came. He didn’t pull out right away, wrapping his arms around you as if afraid to let go.

Your thighs were sticky from your combined releases, and your body felt like it had been sitting in a sauna for hours but seeing the rare, satisfied look on his face made it all worth it. He closed his eyes and sighed.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“You owe me new shorts,” you said.

“I’ll buy you as many shorts as your heart desires,” he uttered, tiredly.

“Really?”

He hummed and nodded slowly.

“Good because I think I’m going to need a lot of them if you’re going to rip them off every time,” you said causing him to perk up. “You know to repay for the teacup.”

“Oh?”

“Unless this was a one-time thing then—“you hesitated.

He kissed you again, unable to hide his smile.

“Next time let’s use my bed.”

“I’d like that,” you said.

He tried to intertwine your hands, but you winced when he brushed against the forming boil.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and to Sigewinne, for real this time.”

“First, can we have a cup of tea?” you asked.

He laughed. Of course, you wanted to have tea. He could do with some tea too; he was famished after all. He laid a kiss on your forehead and made a mental note to send Clorinde an extra box of his finest tea.

“Of course, first let's clean up and then we'll have tea. I promise, but don’t spill it this time.”

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