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#mr g bubble wrap
alphabetatoes · 3 months
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you'd make me pay? (jjk x reader)
aka the one where you joke w the men of jjk about paying to get affection (g. satoru + n. kento + k. choso + f. toji)
a.n.: reader is a comedienne n loves to mess w these men (the way the toji one actually happened to me 🙃)
c.w.: 18+, mdni
gojo
"C'mon- Wanna mark you up. Let everyone know you're mine." Satoru had spent practically the entire night trying to convince you to let him give you a hickey.
"Give me $10 and I'll think about it." The issue wasn't Gojo's insistence on marking you. It was his inability to adhere to subtlety. Yet he adored when he could see those red splotches of skin peaking out of your shirt collar.
Gojo stretches his body across your legs, his frame managing to span the entirety of the couch. "Toru, you're crushing me." You move the rogue white strands of hair out of his face.
"Please babe. Need you so bad." His bottom lip bulges as his whining continues.
You cave to his begging, giving him a light pat on the arm. "Fine, you big baby."
Gojo lifts himself from you and pulls you into his lap, a goofy smile strung across his face.. He takes a chaste kiss from your lips, reveling in his victory. You tilt your head to the side as he buries himself in the crook, nipping and sucking along your neck.
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nanami
Sharing a bath was not only a way for the two of you to spend time with one another, but to also relax from the stress of the day. Kento had poured the two of you a glass of wine, and you lit a candle to aid in the tranquility.
You're sat on opposite sides of the tub, indulging in the warmth of the water. "C'mere. Want you to sit in my lap while I wash your hair." Kento's hands draw soothing circles on your ankles, gently tapping them to get your attention.
You sink further into the bubble bath, taking a sip of the wine. "I'm so comfy though." The idea of having to move your tired limbs on your own was a travesty. "I'll need at least $15 if you expect me to move on my own."
"How about I make you dinner and give you a massage after instead?"
"You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Nanami." You feign concentration as you mull over his proposal. "But you've got yourself a deal." You clink your wine glass into his, cheers-ing to the proposal.
Once you're seated on Kento's lap, his strong hands make idle work to wash your hair. You let a hand sink to his waist, stroking against his cock to help him relax as well.
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choso
You were nestled into Choso's chest as the two of you watched a movie in the living room. One hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him. His other hand laid rest on the top of your leg, which you let rest draped over his.
"Can I kiss you?" Choso's breath tickles your ear as he whispers his request.
"For a dollar." You purse your lips, waiting for Choso to lean in.
He reaches for the wallet in his back pocket, pulling out a bill. "I only have a $20- y'know what? Just keep it." As he shoves the bill into your hand, you gently push it away.
"I was only kidding, baby." You try not to laugh too hard as you quell his nerves. The sincerity staining Choso's face has you melting. You give him a sweet smile, grabbing onto his cheeks to pepper him with kisses.
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toji
Toji was out of town on a job, leaving you unfulfilled for about a week. To help sate that aching feeling, you'd planned to video chat
“Your tits look great in that top.” Toji eyes you up and down, flashing a coy wink when he meets your gaze. “Think they’d look even better without it, though.”
Feeling playful, you give him an ultimatum. “Give me $5 and I’ll do it.”
“You’d make me pay?” His smirk turns into a pout, frustrated by your proposition. Whether he'd admit it or not, Toji missed you just as much. Craving for any glimpse of the body he had longed for.
“Now it’s $20.”
“Cut me a break, doll. Don’t need you actin’ like a brat when you got me all worked up like this.”
Toji pans the phone down to his waist. The material of his sweatpants is tented up as his dick strains against it. You flip him off and flash him a quick look at your tits, not quite giving into his demands.
He’d owe you big time once he got home.
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passionfruitbowls · 6 months
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eternal promise
Among all their frantic preparations for the holidays, Marinette and Adrien still find the time to make a heartfelt confession.
rated: g | pairing(s): adrienette | word count: 1k
read on ao3
—————
“Wait, when did we buy Nativity-themed ceramic plates?” Marinette asks, peeling away the bubble wrap to get a better look at this unusual discovery. Her and Adrien are currently in the middle of decorating their apartment for Christmas, but thanks to numerous distractions and a surprise akuma attack, they haven’t made as much progress as they would’ve liked. 
“Oh! Tom gave them to me when we moved here.” Adrien explains while placing the carrots in the freezer (well, more like shoving, since there’s so little room). “He said they’ve been sitting in that box for years, so we might as well have them.” 
“Huh. Guess that’s why I’ve never seen them before. They do look kind of dated.” 
Marinette notices Adrien hesitate slightly before talking about her dad. He’s still getting used to being on a first-name basis (something her parents had insisted on, since he’s part of the family now), but it’s clear from the way he smiles that it makes him happy. It's a welcome change from the formality of Mr and Mrs Dupain-Cheng, not to mention the coldness he used to receive from his own father, which they don’t like to dwell on. 
Moving the plates off to the side, Marinette refocuses her attention on the main objective of the day. An abundance of lights are scattered across the dining table, the wires entangled and the plugs buried beneath the mess. Somewhere behind her, a cupboard opens, bags and packets are moved around, then the cupboard closes again. 
“Consider the groceries sorted.” Adrien pipes up, dusting off his hands as he comes over to her. “What next, my lady?”
Barely suppressing a smile, Marinette gestures vaguely at the table. 
“We still have to work our way through… all of this.” 
“Got any ideas about how we’re going to do that?” He asks, in that tone he always uses when she’s trying to hatch a plan after summoning a Lucky Charm.
“Okay… I take one end of the wire, you take the other, and hopefully we’ll meet in the middle?”
“Sounds good to me.”
Twenty minutes later, it becomes clear that untangling this beast will take a while, even with their ability to work in tandem. Tikki gets roped into helping, and Plagg follows suit after being promised an extra stash of cheese. Ten more minutes pass, and Marinette begins to feel like she’ll go ballistic if she sees another knot. Ten minutes after that, success at last. 
“Chaton, can you do me a favour? Write down somewhere that we shouldn’t randomly shove all the Christmas things in a box the next time we’re packing.” She says after a celebratory fist bump. 
“On it.” 
Before Marinette can clarify that she didn’t mean right away, Adrien makes a beeline for the hallway, picks up her collection of post-it notes and scribbles down her reminder. She has to give him credit for his diligence. It’s one of the things she loves about him, as well as his supportiveness, his jokes (even if his timing can be terrible), his laughter, which always makes her feel warm and fuzzy inside-
“Marinette? We, uh, still have to actually hang the lights up on the wall.” He says with a little smile on his face, and damn it, how can he look so cute even when he’s doing nothing? 
“Oh! Riiight. Right. I totally remembered that. Anyway, let’s get going.” 
They’d decided beforehand that, due to his height advantage, Adrien was going to stand on top of a chair and do most of the hanging, with Marinette supporting him to compensate for them not having a ladder. Both of her arms are wrapped firmly around his waist; it’s slightly awkward, but they’ve been in worse situations. 
“So, how do you feel about doing this every year for the rest of our lives?” He asks suddenly, while leaning over the mantelpiece. It’s obvious that he meant it in a humorous way, but it takes everything in her to not stumble backwards in shock and send him flying. 
“I… I don’t know.” She says, much quieter than she’d intended. 
“What do you mean?” 
Marinette’s heart lurches, and she immediately tries thinking of a way to explain herself so Adrien won’t get the wrong impression.
“It’s- I’m not saying that it would be a bad thing. It wouldn’t be bad at all! I- I love being around you, and doing things with you, and the idea of us having a future together makes me so, so happy, but…” 
“But what?” He whispers, his voice filled with concern. Her legs feel weak. She wishes they were face-to-face. 
“…I guess I wasn’t expecting us to make such a big commitment so soon. I didn’t know if you were ready for that, and I never want to scare you or pressure you into anything.” 
“My lady,” Adrien says as he climbs off the chair and turns to look her in the eye. “If you asked me to spend a lifetime with you I’d do it in a heartbeat, you can trust me on that. I mean, we’ve already gone through a milestone together, haven’t we? We’ve got our own apartment now!” 
Marinette can’t help but smile and nod. 
Sometimes, it feels a little surreal knowing that there are things and places in this world which belong to her and Adrien and no one else. Their lucky charms, made with the utmost of care as a display of friendship and, eventually, love. Their rooftop meeting point for patrols, for playing leisurely games of cards while talking endlessly. Their home, where his gorgeous face is the first thing she sees in the morning and the last thing she sees at night. 
“Yeah, that’s true. And we’ll always have each other’s backs, right?” Marinette asks. She already knows the answer, but it feels wonderful to hear him say it.
“Always, with or without the masks.” 
As if by instinct, they melt into each other’s embrace, and for a moment it’s as though all of their troubles are gone. Marinette wishes she could hold onto this moment forever, wrap it up neatly and place a little bow on top. 
“I love you.” Adrien says faintly in her ear. 
“I love you too, minou.” She whispers back, blushing like she always does. 
They eventually separate, but judging by the way his eyes keep darting to her lips, it’s clear that he has things other than Christmas decorations on his mind. Besides, she thinks to herself as she reaches out and cups his face, pulling him close, the baubles can wait.
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edupunkn00b · 8 months
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Where the Air is Sweet, Chapter 10
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Photo by Rachel Martin via Unsplash
Prev - Ch. 10 - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]
Logan has news!
WC: 742 - Rated: G - CW: fluff. Oh and I found some more fluff :D -
Logan smiled when the front door opened to the warm aroma of vanilla, nutmeg, and peanut butter. “Pat?” he called, toeing off his shoes and arranging them in the shoe rack. Patton’s left shoe sat next to the rack, the other behind the door, and he scooped them up and placed them alongside his own with a little chuckle.
“Pat? I’m home~”
His voice cut off in another laugh when Patton stepped out from the hall and wrapped both arms around him. “You are home!” he cheered, then tugged Logan toward the kitchen. “And just in time… I’ve been making sweets for my Sweet.” With a wink, Patton tapped Logan’s lips with a still-warm peanut butter oatmeal cookie and he took a bite.
“Hmm, these are quite good,” he hummed, taking another bite when prompted. While he chewed, Patton finished the cookie with a grin. “Shall we make a proper dinner, as well?” he asked, glancing around the kitchen for evidence of actual food.
“Already done!” Patton opened the refrigerator and pulled out a caprese salad and cold roast salmon. “There’s bread, too, but the cookies overpower the yeasty yumminess.” Hands full with the feast he’d prepared, he smiled at Logan. “Set the table for us?” he murmured. “Then you can tell me your news.”
“You remembered.” Logan looked over his shoulder, half-way to the cabinet. “I barely mentioned it this morning…”
“Oh, Lo,” Patton set down the food and cradled Logan’s face between his hands. “Of course I remembered. Now, let’s get everything on the table because I want to hear everything!”
Patton bumped against his hip, gently almost a brush, really, as he hurried off to gather drinks. He flashed another grin at Logan once he’d arranged the plates and utensils. “Nicely done, Lo,” he nodded and Logan’s cheeks warmed. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, Pat,” he looked at the floor, happy bubbles bursting in his chest. “This is the least I can do after you’ve prepared dinner for us.”
“I had a half day,” he shrugged, fingers dancing over Logan’s shoulder as he slid past and sat down. Patton inclined his head toward Logan’s chair and he quickly sat, as well. “So, Lo, tell me everything!”
“Well, Mr. Wolf called me into his office and…” He smoothed down his tie and sweater vest, an unpleasant twinge in his stomach at the memory of his nervousness. “He wasn’t smiling. He told me he’d hired Gordon for the head librarian role and I feared…” Logan looked up when Patton reached across the little table and took his hand. Bright blue eyes stared back at him, stared right past his nervousness as though they could see right to his core. He smiled. “I feared the worst, that he’d not only decided I wasn’t good enough for the role but had…”
Patton’s eyebrows raised at ‘good enough’ and he visibly held back a reminder of what he thought about that. Logan squeezed his hand back and continued. “But instead… he offered me the Assistant Directorship.”
“Lo!” Patton cried, jumping out of his seat and pulling him along. He wrapped Logan in a bear hug. “Lo, you did it! I’m so proud of you!!”
Cheeks aflame, Logan buried his face in the crook of Patton’s neck and hugged back. “W-why, thank you, Pat,” he mumbled.
He squeezed Logan a little tighter, large, warm hands rubbing over his shoulders and his back. “Nothing to thank, Lo! You earned this! You more than earned this! You deserve to finally get some credit for the amazing work you do!”
Bathed in the warmth of Patton’s praise, Logan melted in his embrace. His lips curled into a dopey smile, grateful he hid his face against Patton’s shoulder. “You deserve more than a little credit yourself, Pat. I couldn’t’ve done this without you.”
Patton pulled back, still smiling, but eyes stern. “Yes, you could. And you would have. Your hard work is yours, Lo, and the library is lucky to have you and so is Mr. Wolf.” His fingers drummed against Logan’s shoulders, hands firm but gentle. “I’m proud of you and I hope you can find a bit of space inside your overthinking mind to be proud, too.”
He drew him close again and Logan sank into his arms. “You’re incredible, Lo,” he murmured, holding him tight enough Logan felt their hearts syncopating. “And I’ll tell you that everyday ‘til it seeps in.”
“Thanks, Pat,” Logan whispered. “I…”
“Hmm,” Patton hummed. “Me too, Lo.”
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liketolaugh-writes · 1 year
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An excerpt from the Cosmic Composite rewrite. Not the next part chronologically though.
----
Miranda Price was a small girl even for her age, dwarfed further by the figures around them. She tucked herself against Rosalind’s side, leaning in as if to hide, and Rosalind wrapped an arm around her shoulders in a rare gesture of softness.
“I’ve never told a-anyone about those memories,” she said, partially muffled by Rosalind’s arm. Rosalind shifted to free her mouth, and Miranda hid it again. “I didn’t know anyone else h-h-had th-them.”
“It was really the marks that gave you away,” Natasha told her, reaching out to gently grasp her hand and turn her wrist. “We know a few other children with them, and they’ve mentioned the memories as well.” She tapped the mark. “I can’t help but notice this seems to be open. Can you activate it?”
Miranda hesitated, searching Natasha’s gaze for a moment, and then gave Rosalind an anxious look. Rosalind squeezed her shoulder, and Miranda looked down.
“Time record,” she murmured. “Activate.”
With a few faint flashes of bright green, blood flowed from Miranda’s stigmata and formed a shape: a black disc, dotted with green, spun above her hands.
“It activated in DC,” she explained. “W-when all those SHIELD airplanes crashed. My little sister and I were i-inside one of the buildings that g-got hit, and Time Record h-h-helped us get out.”
Rosalind leaned over, frowning. “Your mother told me about that. I didn’t realize you... manifested anything. What does it do? It doesn’t appear to be a weapon like Yuu’s.”
Miranda shook her head. “Time Record i-isn’t a c-combat type. It’s the only one that isn’t.” She sounded sad about it. “It stops time in a, in a bubble around me for as long as I can h-hold it. B-but when I let go, everything c-catches up.”
Tony only allowed two seconds of chilled silence before he broke it. “That’s incredible. Can you do it now?”
“I did,” Miranda said, with a hint of a shy smile. “L-look at your watch, or y-your phone. Cell s-service gets disrupted too.”
Several of them pulled out their phones, and Talbot looked at his watch.
“Stopped,” he said, giving Miranda a wary look. Miranda instantly let go, and the bubble popped. Talbot watched it spin forward to the correct time. “Unbelievable... and dangerous.”
“I agree,” Rosalind said, startling most of them. But she didn’t look bothered, just focused. “Do you remember how you got it?”
Miranda smiled bashfully. “I made friends with a clock.”
“I’m sorry?” Steve said. Miranda ducked her head and tucked herself against Rosalind again, clinging to her jacket.
“I remember... I c-couldn’t hold a job at first,” she said haltingly. “I was too clumsy and too forgetful, and I d-didn’t have any friends. B-but there was a clock, a, a grandfather clock.” She picked at Rosalind’s jacket, and Rosalind brushed her hand off. Miranda hid her face. “I got it at a pawn sh-shop, because i-it was broken a-and no one could wind it. But when I tried, it w-was easy. I wound that clock every day.”
“And this...” Rosalind tapped Miranda’s stigmata, “was inside it?”
Miranda nodded. “When I got fired for the one hundredth time, I said I wished that tomorrow would never come. A-a-and when I w-woke up the next day, i-it was to the day before. October ninth. I lived that day thirty-four times." She peeked up, saw the Avengers, and hid her face again. “E-eventually the Black Order c-c-came to i-investigate, and me and my Innocence were brought in.”
Nearly all of them snapped to attention at that, but none more so than Bucky.
“The Black Order?” he asked sharply. “What was that? Why did they bring you in?”
Miranda squeaked and clutched at Rosalind, who looked exasperated, but shifted to accommodate her squirming.
“Mr. Barnes is the father of one of the reincarnated children,” she explained. “He’s only concerned.”
“Oh.” Miranda peeked up again, still wary. “The, the Black Order existed to collect Innocence and destroy akuma. They had c-contacts everywhere to r-report strange things that might be caused by, by Innocence. E-eventually, s-someone in a n-n-neighboring town n-noticed t-that t-the same letter h-had come every day for a month.”
“That’s a pretty localized effect,” Tony noted. Miranda nodded.
“But why bring you in?” Bucky pressed. Miranda squeaked again, but didn’t hide this time.
“B-because I h-had a bond with a, with an Innocence,” she explained, halting and soft. “T-they were always desperate for, for exorcists. Um, people who had an Innocence. Accommodators. You c-couldn’t defeat an, an akuma w-without an Innocence, b-but we had less than a, a dozen exorcists a-and a ton of unbonded Innocences.”
Rosalind’s eyes lit with recognition. “So you were valuable.”
Miranda nodded miserably. “The Black Order needed exorcists more than anything.”
“Miranda.” Steve leaned forward to meet her eyes, calm and serious. “Did they do something to you? Did they keep you from leaving?”
Miranda sniffled. “Yes,” she said. “I, I mean- they t-tried to be nice about it. I was so h-happy to have something that I was good at, I never even tried to leave. B-but others did, a-and stopped eventually. G-General Tiedoll s-stayed to p-p-protect s-some of the children they r-recruited. Lavi was there as, as a Bookman, a-and... I think Kanda and A-Allen had nowhere to go.”
“It sounds like there’s a reason you might have wanted to leave,” Rosalind pointed out mildly. Miranda nodded rapidly.
“Exorcists d-died all the time,” she said. “T-that was r-r-really why there were so f-few of us. They d-didn’t live that l-l-long.”
“The bad place,” Bucky concluded grimly.
Miranda frowned. “W-what?”
“When we asked him about those memories, Lavi mentioned a bad place,” Tony explained. “Wanda was able to look at some of Yuu’s memories and saw that he was being held somewhere. Lenalee, too, most likely.”
“Oh... yes.” Miranda shifted in discomfort, fidgeting with her sleeves, and then leaned against Rosalind again. “I was really lucky. By the time I was recruited, Chief Komui was in charge. Lenalee’s brother. E-everyone says things got a lot b-b-better a-after he took over. Lenalee and Kanda... they were there b-before Komui.” She shrugged. “L-Lenalee always just said she d-d-didn’t remember a lot from that time.”
“That’s common for children from especially traumatic childhoods,” Melinda said, sudden and unexpected. Tony remembered that her ex-husband was a psychiatrist. “Lenalee is my daughter now. Can you tell me anything else you remember?”
“O-oh!” Miranda perked up. “H-how is she? Is she okay?”
“She’s a toddler that can fly,” Melinda deadpanned. “She’s a hazard to herself and others.”
Miranda giggled. “L-Lenalee was one of, of the exorcists that c-came looking for me,” she said earnestly. “I l-liked her a lot. Um... she was v-v-very protective of her f-friends. She cared a-a-about friends and family m-more than anything.” Her smile faded. “A-and that made her a r-really good exorcist, b-because all her friends were, were Order members. The Vatican d-d-didn’t care why exorcists f-fought, as long as they did.”
Melinda’s brow furrowed. “The Vatican?”
Miranda blinked in innocent confusion. “Y-yes?”
“How did the Vatican become a player in this?” Tony elaborated, though he had a bad feeling about this.
“Oh.” Miranda fidgeted. “T-the Black Order was a, a church-s-sponsored organization. Most of, of their contacts c-came from that. I, um, I didn’t r-really understand the role of God i-in all that though. I don’t think any of us did.”
It clicked. “That’s how you all died,” Tony said. “The Vatican wanted to cover up the atrocities of the Black Order.”
Miranda’s grip on Rosalind tightened, fingers digging into her arm. “I don’t know about anything like that,” she mumbled against Rosalind’s sleeve. “I thought everything was fine until they came for me and Noise.”
Steve was frowning at Tony, and Tony explained, “The Vatican has a long, time-honored history of scandal. At some point, pick a day when you’re ready for some bad news, and I’ll tell you about the rat lines after World War II.”
“Can’t wait,” Steve muttered.
“Can you tell them a little more about what you remember?” Rosalind asked Miranda. “In addition to Agent May, Mr. Stark is the father of Lavi and Allen, and Mr. Barnes has Yuu. They’re very concerned about what might be affecting their children without their knowledge.”
Miranda’s expression turned thoughtful, and she relaxed again, slowly unwinding even as she stayed plastered to Rosalind.
“I’m sorry,” she said at last, pressing her cheek to Rosalind’s arm. “I’ve dreamed about all of them a lot, b-but they didn’t talk about themselves. S-so I don’t know very much.”
“The oldest of them is four,” Tony reminded her. “Anything you can tell us will be more than we know.”
Miranda nodded uncertainly. “Lavi was p-part of the, the Bookman clan,” she said at last. “They’re, um, secret historians, a-and Bookman Senior w-wanted to record the Holy War.” She tapped Rosalind’s arm anxiously. “U-um, he was playful, a-and very protective of his friends.” Tony grinned. Miranda smiled back for a moment. “Allen was... sweet. I mean, he was sad, because he had a lot to be sad about. But he was the kindest person you’d ever meet.” Some of Tony’s pride turned to clear worry. Miranda didn’t seem to notice this time. “Yuu... Yuu... Kanda? Japanese and blue eyes?” Bucky nodded. “He didn’t let anyone call him by his given name. He didn’t like letting people get too close to him. Um, Lenalee and Allen did anyway, though.” She glanced at Tony and added, “Kanda and Allen were really, really close, I think.”
Tony was surprised, but on second thought, he realized he shouldn’t have been. Allen had formed an instant attachment to Yuu, and Yuu was fairly protective of him in turn. If they really got along that well, maybe he should encourage that.
Rosalind ran her fingers through Miranda’s hair. “Thank you, Miranda,” she said. “That’s enough for now. I know you don’t spend much time with children, but would you like to see the others? I believe they’re playing right now.”
Miranda brightened instantly. “Yes, please!”
---
I wanted to reassure everyone that I haven't forgotten about this, I just have a lot on my plate right now. But I wanted to get this down, so here's a treat.
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jadezdominion · 2 years
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TW: Smut 18+: Dreomione/Triad/Soulmate Bond
A Soulmate or Two
Hermione sat in the dark looking out over New York City’s skyline, appreciating the faint outlines of the high rise buildings. All of the city was awake, the dancing lights from across the Hudson were glittering on the water, entrancing her a bit and distracting her from her thoughts. The ones that, as of the last 3 years, have been filled with glimpses of Mercury gray eyes with platinum white hair, and dexterous, strong hands. If that wasn’t bad enough, another man infiltrated her thoughts too. With curly brown hair, sparkling blue eyes and a dimpled smile that could make anyone melt.
“Fuck!”
She shook her head furiously to chase away the images. If only it were that easy to stop the physical response her body had to them. Her dreams had been intensifying as the years passed. Tonight’s edition had left her panting and near an orgasm.
Draco had 2 of those beautiful and nimble fingers deep within her cunt, stroking her G-spot. He was relentless and precise. Theo was holding her tight against his chest with one hand pulling her hair just enough to cause pain while biting at her neck softly while toying with her nipples.
Even though it was a dream, she could still feel them against her skin that set her aflame just remembering it. Why in Merlin’s fucking name was this happening? This pull she felt towards them both seemed unnatural. I mean, it’s Draco bloody Malfoy and Theodore fucking Nott!! She had left the Wizarding World behind for the last five years. Purposely moving away so she couldn’t be further unless she moved south of the equator and, let’s face it, that was not an option thank you very much. Still, she couldn’t shake this need, this hollow feeling in her chest.
Casting her canaries for an additional distraction made her realize that each one had a mate. They were always in even numbers. She didn’t believe in old wives tales, especially the one she read about in the folklore books at Flourish and Blotts. It said that a lonely witch who never found her one true love, her soulmate, had invoked the old Gods and with blood magic made a pact to ensure no one else suffered her fate. The Gods said that every magical child would be born with a partial birthmark and that your soulmate would have the matching piece. It would fit together perfectly.
What a load of thestral shite.
She had a birthmark but that didn’t mean a damn thing because here she was at 27, single and eating cold lo mein from Mr. Lings. But these thoughts and dreams. The pull to be near them and the desire to pack up her life to track them down… it had to mean something.
It was at that moment, Hermione realized she was absolutely fucked. A few days later she was standing outside the steps of the British Ministry of Magic after arriving by port key. It felt surreal. And nauseating.
Hermione called up Harry and they caught up with each other over a few butter beers at The Leaky. After he wrapped his head around the whole situation he let her know that Draco and Theo were running a specialized division within the Ministry. They had endured a lot but managed to change the perspective of their household names and were now viewed in a different light by the Wizarding World. Harry brought her back to the ministry and sent her to their division with a visitors pass. After all, she was Hermione Granger the “Golden Girl”, war heroine and Brightest Witch of her age. If anyone deserved to be there it was her.
Hermione couldn’t help the butterflies in her stomach. Or was that the butter beer and nerve induced bile attempting to surface? What was she doing here?! She should have stayed back in NYC. Who packs up on a whim and travels to a different continent for a “feeling”?
“Circe’s tits” she whispers once the lift doors open. Stepping out she feels the the presence of heavy magic in the air. The space was full of books, artifacts, and potions bubbling in a corner.
Suddenly her heart started beating quickly and that pull felt stronger than ever. Then she heard a deep baritone voice along with a smooth tenor voice say in tandem “Hermione?”.
When she turned both Draco and Theo were standing a meter from her. Looking awestruck and she couldn't help herself. She walked a bit closer to them and stopped a foot away. Their fingers were twitching and it looked like they wanted to lunge towards her.
“Er, hi. I needed to come see you both. I can’t explain what’s been happening over the years I’ve been having these dreams, or feelings really. I just know that this is something I can no longer ignore. Recently, like I said, I’ve been having some really strange…”
“Dreams?” Draco and Theo murmured at the same time. Astounded, she couldn’t believe what she heard. So it isn't just her?
“How did you know?”
Draco came so close to her she could almost smell his cologne and it was intoxicating. He gazed deeply into her eyes, lifting up a hand to softly stroke her cheek, “Are you real Granger or am I dreaming again?”. The pleading tone from him broke her composure and she threw herself at him wrapping her arms around his neck.
“I’m here Draco. I’m really here. Is it true? Are you both mine?”. He nodded into her neck, gripping her tight. She felt another pair of strong arms from behind her wrap around her waist, “Yeah gorgeous. He’s yours, I’m yours. Always will be if you’ll have us. Our souls have felt incomplete until now. Can’t you feel the magic? That hollow feeling is gone.” Tears started falling from Theo’s eyes and they all began to cry as the feeling of completion comes over them.
They stayed in an embraced for a while and then it happened. Draco placed his forehead against hers and whispered, “I’m going to kiss you now.” All Hermione could do was nod her consent. When their lips met it was something otherworldly. A tingling feeling embedded itself in her chest and she knew her soul was melding itself. She couldn’t help the tears that had kept falling and he wiped them away gently. Kissing each cheek he spoke softly to her, “Oh gods, Hermione. I never thought this day would come. I tried to find you for so long. I feel whole now.” Theo turned her towards him and silently asked if he could kiss her as well, to which she said of course. His kiss was tender and full of passion.
That was it, finally the hollow feeling in her chest was gone and she felt a level of happiness she never experienced before. Theo and Draco held up her left hand nestled in between their own and kissed it slowly. That is when they noticed a half moon birthmark on the top of her index finger. Draco startled and put his right hand next to hers where another half moon was on his index finger. They looked at Theo and he had the missing piece on his right index finger as well. They held their hands in place for what felt like an hour. Hermione chuckled to herself.
I guess that old wives tale was right after all.
The three of them had a lot to discuss, but for now she relished in the fact that she found what some people search their whole lives for.
She left the Ministry holding hands with both of her soulmates and hopeful for what the future could bring. - JEM 10/03/2022
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This is the longest Drabble I have written and I couldn’t have done it without the amazing @tiny-reader who volunteered to Beta and improved this and Courtney who was grammar police too. ILY both!! What’s in store for our triad?? Does anyone want a fic from this? 👀🐍🖤
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prismatic-bell · 3 years
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So the other day I said a thing about how I felt like a line could be drawn between antis, and the rise of 24-hour news networks. I’ve given that thought some time to bubble to see what, exactly, my brain meant by that statement, and here’s what I’ve got:
When I was a kid (back in Ye Olde 1990s), we had three major news stations in my town: Channel 12, Channel 24, and Channel 35. These corresponded to NBC, ABC, and CBS, but I don’t remember which one was which so don’t ask me. Anyway--you had a half hour of news at 8 or 9 am (depending on which station you watched), an hourlong program at noon in which half the program was stuff like “here are today’s beach closures and some recipes and also if you’re looking for stuff to do with the kids this weekend here are local promotions,” and half an hour at either 5, 5:30, or 6 (again, depending on which channel you watched). One of the three stations also did a half-hour capper at 10pm. So unless you were watching all three stations, and picking the news every single time, the max amount of news you were going to get was like an hour and a half. If you wanted more news than that, you read the newspaper. When my mom was a kid (back in Ye Olde 1960s), this would have seemed like an inordinate amount of news--for her, it was half an hour at 6pm and ten minutes at 10pm and then the station (there was only one station that did the news) played the National Anthem and went off the air until 6am, at which time you might get like . . . the weather and a traffic report.
For anything else, you read the newspaper.
Now with only half an hour to present a whole lot of news, what are you going to do? You are going to stick to the facts. You don’t have a choice. You have a very short time to fit a whole lot of information. “Notre Dame cathedral caught on fire today. French firefighters are working to get the flames under control, and authorities in charge of the cathedral are doing their best to remove relics, paintings, and other holy objects while it’s still possible. French President Mr. Somebody addressed the nation and stated every attempt to save the building, and to rebuild the damage, will be made. In local news . . . “ And that’s it! If you want more information, you’ve got to wait for the newspaper in the morning, and you’re going to have to get a copy of the New York Times or USA Today, because the local paper will only have a blurb, and that blurb will mostly cover what you just heard!
But then the news changed.
By the time I was a teenager, the non-cable news looked like this: All three channels had a morning show that started at 5 or 6 am (depending on your station) and ran until 8 or 9 (depending on your station). The station that ended at 8am then had a half-hour morning news show. The mid-day news at 11 or 12 was still an hour. Channel 35 did a half-hour news segment at 5 and another at 5:30, back to back. The other two stations simply did an hourlong segment. And then one station did half an hour at 10:30, and the other two did hourlong segments at 10pm.
What do you do with that much time? Well, you expand. Yes, you can fit more news, but you can also fit more about the news. “Notre Dame cathedral in Paris went up in flames today. The fire began in the famous historic bell tower, and spread to the roof. At this time, portions of the roof appear to have caved in, and there are concerns about the integrity of the medieval stonework in the cathedral walls. French firefighters have been working since 8am Paris time to get the flames under control, and authorities in charge of the cathedral are doing their best to remove relics, paintings, and other holy objects while it’s still possible. Some firefighters are also helping with this project, as portions of the building have become too unsafe to enter. French President Mr. Somebody addressed the nation late this evening and stated every attempt to save the building, and to rebuild the damage, will be made. Of the cathedral itself, Somebody said, ‘Our Lady has weathered worse troubles than this. Paris as a city, and France as a nation, will overcome.’ In local news . . . ”
Still facts, but a few more facts. At this point the internet as a public thing is just past its infancy, and in theory you could go look up some stuff on, like, AOL, maybe, about what was happening.
(Nina, you were talking about antis . . . ?)
(Yes, I was. Bear with me.)
But at this point you also saw the rise of Fox News and CNN.
Now up to this point, I could trust the news. That is important to know. “Nina, American news is full of propaganda--” Listen, you’re not wrong, but the point is, if Scott Brennan told me Notre Dame cathedral was on fire and priests were trying to remove the holy relics, I could safely assume Notre Dame cathedral was on fire and priests were trying to remove the holy relics. If Channel 24 told me “the blizzard of the century” had occurred the night before, I could look out the window of my snowed-in house and go “yeah, that seems legit.”
I grew up, in other words, in a world in which facts were facts. We didn’t waffle or wring our hands over whether or not Notre Dame was on fire. And this allowed me to take a similar approach to fiction: it is a fact that murder is wrong, and knowing this, I can read a book in which someone commits murder for very good reasons, but still know they did something wrong.
But now you have 24 hours of news to fill.
No matter how you pad it, no matter how many voice clips you play or retrospectives you do, you cannot find enough news in the world to fill 24 hours, seven days a week, 365 days a year. You just can’t.
So they started adding “opinion pieces.”
Notre Dame is on fire--is it worth saving? Notre Dame is on fire--but is it as big a catastrophe as it’s made out to be? Notre Dame is on fire--but France has been steadily calling themselves a secular nation, so is this the punishment of G-d? Notre Dame is on fire--
--wait, what was that?
Yep. You saw it, I saw it, we all saw it. But as the “opinion pieces” slowly took over the regular news and stopped being called “opinion pieces” and started being called “programs,” it became less and less clear what was and wasn’t fact.
Now obviously Notre Dame is on fire. But now we have to ask ourselves: is it worth it to save it or not? Is the financial cost outweighed by the history? Will those answers change depending on how bad the damage becomes? And you, lonely elderly person in your chair whose predominant socialization these days is at church, how does this make you feel about French people? These are questions that once would have been asked of the church caretakers and the French government. Now every single person is being asked to think about them, without being provided all of the context that is available to the church caretakers and the French government. And along the way, you get these nice, nasty little bits of prejudice and slanted thinking and bias sneaked in.
I told you I’d come back to antis. And here we are.
The vast majority of antis are very young. They grew up in a world where those “programs” were the norm. They were not provided with a cultural basis of “these are the facts.” They were provided a basis of “here is what I think about the facts.” They were provided a basis of, as Mr. Banks said in Mary Poppins, “kindly do not cloud the matter with facts.”
There are no facts! Who fucking cares! An anti who’s 15 years old today was eleven years old when we were introduced to “alternative facts”! Is it wrong for a 27-year-old man to pursue a relationship with a 13-year-old girl? Depends on which news channel, and which presenter, you ask!
They literally grew up in a world in which critical thinking was discouraged. Once upon a time, you would have seen on TV that Notre Dame was on fire, and at dinner--or whatever your family did for together time--you might say things like “going to be expensive to fix that, I wonder what they’ll do,” but you wouldn’t have been hit with six presenters telling you exactly why Notre Dame should/shouldn’t be rebuilt. And don’t forget--even if you, personally, do not watch the news (or read it on the internet, which is just as bad, because everybody’s after those elusive advertising clicks, everybody needs the “scoop” two seconds before it happens), you know people who do. You hear their opinions and their hot takes and their retellings all around you. And those  opinions and hot takes and retellings will be colored by which “program” that person saw first.
Watch the first thirty seconds of this:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dn2RjahTi3M
Walter Cronkite, a legendary news anchor, giving his opinion on Vietnam. You will notice that he states, very clearly: “it seems very clear to this reporter.” This is Cronkite’s opinion, nothing more, and he makes it clear that he is speaking only for himself.
Now skip to approximately 1:05, and watch him report the Kennedy assassination. You can see he’s emotional, but also keeping it under wraps as best he can because he has An Important Job To Do, and that job is twofold: to deliver the news accurately and concisely, and to keep the American public calm (you can see this when he hurriedly says Johnson is probably taking the oath to become President; a missing VP would be a crisis at this moment). This is a man who’s just found out the most beloved president in modern times is dead. And not just dead--murdered. It’s not like Kennedy had a heart attack, his damn head was blown off. This news is still coming in so quickly that you can see him glancing off the screen to get fresh reports. He’s one of the first to receive this absolute blow--and he’s still holding it together, barely wavering. (When I was a kid, this role would go to Dan Rather. He was no Cronkite, but he tried.)
Where is that kind of rock for today’s teens? Imagine--heaven forbid, in the state our country’s in right now--that tomorrow we get the news Biden was shot.
How would we get that message?
Would it be delivered by an even-keeled, just-the-facts reporter like Cronkite? Or would we get it from a bunch of half-hysterical articles and crisismongering “programs”? And would it be delivered to us straight, like Cronkite did, or would it be buried in three days’ worth of opinions on his “legacy” and policies and What This Means For America?
Now: how are you supposed to build any kind of strong convictions and moral compass on a world like that? Where anything can be true if enough people have an “opinion” on it? Where the facts get immediately buried in a wave of bullshit?
Antis are reacting to a world of “opinions” and “programs” being thrown at them 24/7 by trying to create a world they can control, where there are in fact things that are true, in a world that has actively refused them the opportunity to learn how to parse and process facts. And so what they’ve come up with is this grossly distorted version of facts, because gross distortions of facts are all they know. It’s all they’ve ever seen. They’re perpetuating a system they don’t even realize they’re part of, because they never experienced life before it existed.
They’re not lying when they say they were heavily influenced by fiction because the bounds between fact and fiction have been actively erased. On purpose. And it’s difficult to grok that, if you grew up in a world where you didn’t have to go seek out photographic evidence to be absolutely certain that Notre Dame was, indeed, on fire.
So what we need to be doing, first and foremost, is rebuilding that wall of facts, that line of truth. Otherwise, what we’re going to see is more of this, but getting worse daily.
We set them up for this, and now we’re paying the price for it.
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hoodie-buck · 2 years
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you can check me off your list any day
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day 7: free choice
last day for buck week, so i obviously had to include my beloved clipboard!buck where i wrote 8k of nonsense 😁 thanks so much ro for making this lovely cover <33 @ronordmann thanks again for putting this event on!!! 💙 @evanbuckleyweek
rated g | words: 8.4k | read on ao3
summary:
Buck let the fragments fall to the garbage, moving to bang his head against the ladder truck after. Why did he always have the worst luck?
“Here, try this one.”
Buck turned to see Eddie stood there, his eyes not quite meeting Buck as he handed out a package. Raising his brows, Buck reached out cautiously, taking the box in his hands, letting his fingers brush against Eddie’s for longer than was necessary.
“What is it?”
Eddie gave that stern look of his, the one he usually reserved for Christopher when it was time to put the video games away, the man crossing his arms together. “Just open it.”
Ok Eddie; keep your secrets.
Buck took out his pocket knife, using it to cut the tape off before putting it back in place. He carefully opened the package, shaking out the contents into his hands. After pulling off the bubble wrap that surrounded it, Buck took the item into hand, instantly noting its’ sturdiness.
“You—you bought me a clipboard?’”
—or—
Five time’s Eddie gets Buck custom clipboards, and the one time Buck gets Eddie one
-tags below, lmk if you wanna be added or removed <3-
tags: @buddiextarlos @swiftiediaz @mansikkaomenabanaani @confetti-cupcake @chimneymistergayhan @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @loveyourownsmiilee @corgiqueen14 @justsmilestuffhappens @prettyboyandthekid @honestlydarkprincess @zainclaw @djdangerlove @constructiononqueersunset @love-buddie @bifirefighters @mr-and-mr-diaz @blaidddrwg1982 @buddierights @crazyfangirlallert @imsupposedtobewritting @ekstasisandqueerangst @acediaz
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diaphragmjellyfish · 3 years
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Robby NSFW Alphabet
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not my gif
A: Aftercare
Robby’s aftercare is ON POINT. He’s a huge cuddler and loves to have the chance to take care of someone who really appreciates it and takes care of him in return. He will get a soft, damp cloth and clean you off before pulling you onto his chest and wrapping you both up in tons of blankets. He likes to pet your hair while you fall asleep, and hold you so that no one can hurt you while you’re in such a vulnerable state. He knows, realistically, that no one is gonna jump out of the closet and attack you, but it makes him feel needed. 
B: Body Part
His favorite body part of yours is your hands. He loves holding them up next to his and comparing, he loves holding your hand, and he loves when your hand is wrapped around his cock while y’all are in private. He can’t help but look at your left hand and picture a pretty ring on that finger, imagining the beautiful future he wants to have with you. His favorite body part of his is his butt. The boy works out, and he knows how much you like it. He honestly never noticed his butt before, whether it was nice or not, until you started pointing it out, and now he walks around in leggings just to get your attention!
C: Cum
He likes to cum in your mouth. Blowjobs make him feel like he’s in heaven, and when you swallow, it makes Robby feel like you’re accepting him and worshipping him like no one ever has before. He also likes to finish inside you (wrap it up) because of how intimate it is. Not part of the prompt, but he loves to make you sit on his face and cum all over his mouth, dirty boy. 
D: Dirty Secret
Robby has always wanted to try more public sex. The thought of getting caught riles him to no end, and he gets so turned on by the idea of holding his hand over your mouth in a janitor’s closet so people walking past don’t hear your moans. If you wanted to try it, y’all would start small, like your backyard, and work your way up, but if you weren;t into it, that’s fine with him too. 
E: Experience
He’s decently experienced. Robby had a one night stand or two before he met Mr. Larusso, when he hung out with those hooligans, but it never meant anything. With you, it’s his first time doing it with feelings involved, and he was blown away by how much better it was that way. He was experienced enough to not bust in T-2 minutes, but he still had a lot to learn about taking his time and making sure you both enjoyed it. With the other girls, it was always about doing it to impress his friends so he never thought much about how it felt, for him or her. You have to teach him that porn isn’t realistic, and that it takes time to feel good. He’s a fast learner though. 
F: Favorite Position
He loves a good 69, lying down or standing ;) bc he’s strong like that. He also likes taking you from behind while he holds you up against him by your neck, and his other hand playing with your nipples or clit. Add a mirror, and you have the hottest sex either of you had ever had. 
G: Goofy
He can be goofy during foreplay or aftercare, but Robby likes to keep it more intimate and serious during actual sex. He wants you to know that he takes you seriously, and thinks that you guys are goofy all the time, so he wants sex to be loving and heartfelt. Drunk sex can be goofy, but most of the time, he keeps it mature. 
H: Hair
He will shave it off every once in a while and let it get stubbly for a couple weeks, then shave again. Robby HATES ingrown hairs, so he doesn’t like to shave every day, but he thinks just trimming makes it look sloppy. He settles for shaving every couple weeks. He literally doesn’t even notice when you don’t shave, so obviously he doesn’t care about that. Like he’s so caught up in the moment that you could put a little blue wig down there and he wouldn’t notice. 
I: Intimacy
So growing up, Robby never really had people that cared a lot about him. Because of this, he lives for intimate moments. Just you guys lying on his bed playing with each other’s hair makes him swoon. He’s a romantic guy, and would definitely go all out with flower petals, candles, champagne, and bubble baths if it were a special occasion. He wants you to know that he loves you, and wants to make sure you know how much he loves you. 10/10 romance. 
J: Jack off 
He did it a lot before he met you, but now he prefers you. He really doesn’t feel the need to jack off because you guys are together so often. If he starts thinking about you in the shower or something, maybe he would, but he’d rather just text you to come over. 
K: Kink
So Robby is a switch. When he’s feeling more dominant, he loves to spank you with his hands, a paddle, or his karate belt. He gets off on the fact that you trust him so much to hold your pleasure and pain in his hands. He would never go too far, but he loves how wet you get after a light spanking. When Robby is more sub, he likes when you boss him around. Telling him how exactly to pleasure you, pulling his face further into your core. Making him get on his knees and watch as you pleasured yourself. He worships you. 
L: Location
At first, a bed. But after you guys have sex on a beach at night one time, he realizes that he wants to try tons of different locations. Just the possibilities of how he can position you, someone catching you, or someone hearing how good he makes you feel, really gets him going. His favorite so far was in an empty stairwell at a fancy resort that Sam invited you both to. 
M: Motivation
So like Hawk and Miguel, Robby is a teenage boy! He’s horny all day, every day. He loves seeing you in workout clothes, seeing other guys hit on you and then shrink away when they realize you’re his, teaching you karate, and watching you put your hair up. It reminds him of… certain things. 
N: No
He would never ever let someone else join you guys. Male, female, or other, he hates the idea of someone putting their hands on you in that way, and knows you would feel the same about him. Robby thinks you guys have such a perfect chemistry going, so why would you want to ruin that with another person? It would just be awkward and clumsy, and Robby does NOT like to share. 
O: Oral
So like I said earlier, he thinks porn is accurate when y’all first start having sex. He would go down on you for like 30 seconds, barely using any pressure or suction, and would then be confused as to why you weren’t finishing. He sat you down one day and talked to you about it, because he was scared you just weren’t attracted to him or something. When you told him that you needed more than what he was doing, he made you teach him right then and there. He spent a good hour and a half going down on you, making you tell him what was good and what wasn’t, learning how to actually give GOOD head, and now he’s pretty much an expert. He takes his time and takes cues from you. You were amazing at head right off the bat, and he’s such a simp for you when you’re between his legs. 
P: Pace
It honestly varies depending on the day and what mood you guys are in. He’s a switch in all respects, so he can be slow and loving, or fast and rough, or a mix of the two. He also loves when you start on top and set the pace, and then he will flip you guys over when you get tired and finish you both off. 
Q: Quickie
He likes a good quickie in those moments when you guys are out and get turned on all of a sudden. Robby likes to take you somewhere a little more private and get you both off, before resuming what you guys were doing and acting like nothing happened. You’ve seen him shake the hand of someone with the same hand that was buried in you 3 minutes before, acting like nothing was out of sorts at all. 
R: Risk
He will try new things if you want to, but is honestly pretty content with how you guys fuck right now. His philosophy is “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” But he’s more than willing to try whatever you want to try. Robby can’t say no to his girl. Sometimes, you guys just sit there and watch porn together, and will see something that looks like fun, so you decide to try it. 
S: Stamina
So I feel redundant for saying this on Miguel and Hawk’s too, but he’s a teenage boy! He can’t go for more than 12 minutes at first. He could go like 5 times in a row, but didn’t last very long. Now, he’s way better. He can last for a solid 30 to 40 minutes if he really wants to, but normally you’re satisfied before that and he can let himself finish. 
T: Toy
Robby loves to try toys on you. When you first told him that you had a vibrator, he immediately asked if he could use it on you. He’s fascinated with how different toys do different things, and he loves studying the difference in your reactions depending on what he’s using. He doesn’t really like toys being used on him though. He thinks it feels weird and he'd rather have your mouth or hand. 
U: Unfair
Robby can be a really bad tease if he’s in the right mood. He would hover his mouth over your pussy, letting you shake and cry before he touches you. He would finger you and bring you right up to the edge, before pulling his hand away and laughing as you almost sob. He likes knowing he has the power to make you writhe like that. 
V: Volume
He’s pretty quiet, to be honest. You had to tell him specifically that you wanted him to be louder in the bedroom. Once you did that, he started to let loose a little bit more, but still isn’t super loud. He would rather listen to you scream his name ;) 
W: Wild Card
He loves shower sex. Too many times have you guys both cum, only for him to carry you into the shower to clean off and eventually start round 2. The water, the soap, the nakedness, he’s a sucker for it. There’s no clean up involved, and he even gets a bathtub mat so you guys don’t slip and hurt yourselves. 
X: X-Ray
I said it before and I’ll say it again! Size! Does! Not! Matter! The g-spot is 3 INCHES IN so if he’s hitting it right it’s fine!!! But Robby is probably a solid 6 inches. 
Y: Yearning
Teenage boy! He could go at the drop of a hat. Robby wants you all the time, he just holds back until you want to as well. Which is also often, I mean look at him!
Z: Zzz
He doesn’t really like to fall asleep right after in case you need something. He makes sure he’s available to get you whatever you need: a snack, water, another blanket, a kiss. Robby also likes to hold you while you sleep, because it makes him feel like he’s doing his duty as your boyfriend and protecting you. 
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georgiapeach30513 · 3 years
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Mr. Freezy Pops, Part 12 BONUS
Summary:  After having both Robert and Cherry, you’re insatiable.  AND tired of them leaving you behind with a guard, so you can’t help but be bratty.
Pairings:  Robert “Mr. Freezy” Pronge X Reader X destroyer!Chris “Cherry Pop”
Rating:  Explicit *This is just gratuitous because Pretty Girl didn’t break all of Robert’s rules
Warnings:  Explicit language, explicit sexual content, SMUT, masturbation (F/M), unprotected sex, pleasure dom, multiple orgasm, fingering, oral sex (F receiving), sex toy play, being filmed without knowledge, breast play, pussy slapping, degradation, swallowing, threesome (2M/1F), spitting, cumplay, cum marking, double penetration, overstimulation 18+ ONLY
Word Count:  2.6k
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Since your night with both Robert and Cherry, and the wrapping up of “the plan” they seem to be out of the house, and away from you more often than not.  Placing your guard at the front door and leaving you alone.  Alone to stew in your thoughts.  You should just tell Robert that you’re pregnant.  Cherry knew, seeing how he was the one that bought the test for you.  Even he is urging you to just be honest with Robert, but with everything going on with the plan, it doesn’t seem right.
And yet, here you are pregnant, and horny as hell.  Left alone and one of your rules is to not touch yourself.  Every part of you wants to touch yourself.  Every day you think about the amazing night with Robert and Cherry.  While you do not have that crazy unexplainable love with Cherry that you do have with Robert, you can’t deny that you love him.  Not to mention the man is beautiful.  The calmness to Robert’s constant raging storm.
Walking into your room for a nap, you can’t help but to stare at the bedside table that holds yours and Robert’s treasure chest of toys.  With a growl you stand and walk into the bathroom for a cold shower.  Would a punishment be so bad?  What exactly would Robert actually do to?  And the thought of allowing Cherry to join in on the punishment makes your body heat up.
Without even realizing it your hands have drifted over your body.  You assume it’s still quite early in your pregnancy, because you can’t see any physical changes in your body, however, you are extra sensitive.  The barely there touch over your nipples makes you keen.  You haven’t even touched the part of your body that you really want.  The part that is aching for your touch, preferably Robert’s.  
You finish washing off the remaining bubbles, wrapping yourself in a towel before going over to the treasure chest of drawers.  Digging past the toys Robert prefers using on you.  You know there has to be something new that he’s never used on you.  Searching and feeling almost disappointed that all the sensations will be the same, until you spot in the back something bright pink.  Still in the box, claiming to stimulate your g spot and clit, with vibrations and sucking.  
With the most sinful smile on your face, you rip into the box, taking the toy to clean, because safety first, and setting yourself up on the bed to position the hot pink toy perfectly on your body.  With what Robert and Cherry do, you never know how long that it may take, but the way this toy is actually stimulating you in the way you have been waiting for you really couldn’t care.
Your body takes over and before you know it, you’re straddling a pillow in the middle of the bed.  Grinding over top of it, and feeling the toy work you perfectly.  Pulling out orgasm after orgasm.  Shouting through each one, and it’s not only satisfying, but extremely delightful.  And when you’ve had enough you struggle to clean up the wet mess that you’ve made, cleaning the toy and placing it back in the drawer.  
Unbeknownst to you, Robert has a near perfect memory.  Also, you should have remembered that Robert knows.  And how does he know?  He thought a nanny cam in the bedroom while he was away would be the best thing.  Randomly he decided to check in on the camera, and saw you humping his pillow while screaming in ecstasy.  “Oh, she’s in fucking trouble now.  My naïve fucking slut,” he grunts.  This of course gets Cherry Pop’s attention.
“What did she do this time?” he asks.
“She’s touching herself.  I didn’t give her permission for that.  She’s fucking my pillow.”
Now, Cherry knows that you’re pregnant, so he doesn’t want Robert to be so hard on you.  “What do you have in mind?”
“Let’s see how long this feed lasts.”  As soon as you finish, pitifully attempting to clean up your mess before retreating to a nap in the living, he figures up that you had in fact been playing for thirty-seven minutes.  “Looks like Pretty Girl is getting thirty-seven fucking orgasms today.  May need your help,” he informs Cherry.  Cherry doesn’t respond.  He can only lick his lips, gripping tighter to the steering wheel.  He had been hoping for some more time to be buried deep inside of you.
“You don’t fucking care to help, do you?”
“I only aim to please.”
“She might be so fucked out that she may let you have a fucking chance at my pussy.”
Cherry can’t look at Robert.  He knows he has to tread lightly when it comes to you.  If he seems too eager, he’ll piss Robert off.  So, it’s best to just to be nonchalant.
When they arrive home, Robert walks closer to your sleeping form on the couch.  Almost taking pity on you, but of course Robert’s fury knows no bounds, and you deliberately disobeyed him.  Even using a toy that hadn’t been opened before.  His knuckles graze lightly across your cheek, and you should have known by his too sweet voice he was up to something.
“Is my Pretty Girl tired?” you look up, seeing Cherry take a long drag from a cigarette, eyes dark watching you.
“Yeah.  I was really tired.  Sorry I haven’t started supper.”
“You tired from fucking touching yourself for so long?” you can only look at him.  Shaking your head slowly, and then looking at Cherry who smirks at you, blowing up a trail of smoke.  “You going to lie to me?  I told you I would fucking know if you touched yourself,” pulling his phone out he plays the video feed and you hear yourself screaming, not seeing the video.  “I would have liked to seen this in person.  Do you know how long you were fucking that pillow?”
“No, Sir.”
“Thirty-seven fucking minutes.  It seems only fair that I make you cum thirty-seven times, right?”
“Sir…”
“No arguing.  Get your pretty little ass undressed.  I’m about to start fucking you with my fingers.”
“Sir, please,” your voice a whimper.  And you don’t know if it’s because you’re excited or almost embarrassed that Cherry is sitting watching you.
“Don’t look at him.  He’s going to have to fucking help with your punishment.  Thirsty-seven fucking orgasms,” you gulp as you begin to undress.  The number of times that Cherry has seen you in various stages of undress, you shouldn’t worried about that.  “I see you keep looking at him.  You going to let him fuck that tight cunt?  I’d let him fuck my pussy if he eats my cum out of that pretty kitty.  You want him too, don’t you?”
You nod your head, only watching Robert.  “That’s fucking right.  I knew you did.  My perfect little slut.”
Robert tires of you removing your clothes slowly.  Hungrily he rips off the remaining pieces, leaving you completely exposed while both men are fully dressed.  Positioning your body so your face is pointed directly at Cherry’s, ass stuck in the air while Robert’s fingers run through your folds.  Spreading your slick around before entering three fingers in your swollen cunt.  “Such a fucking slut.  You’re drenched Pretty Girl.  Is it the thought of thirty-seven orgasms doing it for you, or Cherry buried deep in your fucking cunt?” Robert laughs.  “Well, she doesn’t lie.  She was clenching me tightly.  You think he deserves her?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You know he’s been fucking good to us, don’t cha, Pretty Girl?”
“MmmHmm,” your voice already going soft as you feel your belly heat up.  The tightening of the rubber band with your impending orgasm.  Robert’s thumb creates tight circles on your clit, eliciting a moan from your mouth.  Hiding your face into the couch.  Robert’s fingers grip you by the roots of your hair, lifting you back up to look at Cherry Pop.
“He wants to fucking see you when you cum.  Be a good little slut for me, okay?” his head leans onto your ass, giving your cheek a small little nibble, as you cum on his fingers.  The euphoria washes over your body, and you know these two are going to have you begging them to stop.  “Start counting, Pretty Girl.”
“One,” your voice whispers.
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Robert hammers your body into the couch as his hips pound into yours.  His fingers gripping you tightly, and your body is damn near numb.  “Fucking ruined this couch.  Jus’ gonna have to buy another one.  Come on, Pretty Girl, make me fucking cum.  Maybe your sweet Cherry boy will be softer for you.”
Words do not exist in your mind anymore with the many times Robert has made you cum, and now he wants his own release.  The number of times he’s watched your face as you’ve came undone over his fingers and mouth.  The sounds that leaked from your mouth, it all became too much.  And now his body angrily pounds into you.  “Aw, has my Pretty Girl turned into my dumb baby?  Cockdrunk and we’re not even halfway fucking there.”  
You feel your walls tighten around Robert’s cock, and his gasp, you know he feels it, too.  “S’close Pretty Girl.  So fucking close,” his thrusts are fierce.  His shining blue eyes watch while your eyebrows furrow, waiting for his say so.  “Cum,” he grunts out.  Your body obeys as the hot tendrils of his cum plants deep in your abused cunt.
“Sixteen.”
“Cherry boy, I think we’re going to have to move this to the floor or the fucking bedroom.  But first,” Robert doesn’t finish as he pulls out of you.  
Cherry’s body moves over to yours.  Settling himself in between your thighs, watching your spread and waiting cunt.  His face lowers down onto your pussy, not only giving your clit a few nibbles and sucking on it, but lapping up yours and Robert’s juices.  
He works your body slowly.  Sweetly.  Your fingers spread over his head, using his smooth fade cut to bring you back to earth.  Readjusting his body, he enters two fingers into your walls.  His movements still remain calm, needing you to realize who is wanting to make you cum.  When he sees your eyes finally focus on him, his fingers curl into you.  Rubbing along your spongy walls, before the rush of a quick orgasm washes over you.
“Seventeen,” your voice a bit steadier, but still trembling.
Cherry’s body crawls over you, allowing you to feel his hardened length through his jeans.  His body grinding over your spread core, feeling the denim of his pants stimulate your clit.  His lips suck along the column of your neck, leaving his marks on you.  Peppering kisses up you until his lips hover over yours.  “You want to taste you two on my lips, Baby Girl?”
Quickly nodding your head, you look into his blue eyes, already feeling another orgasm build up in the pit of your stomach.  His lips crash onto yours, while you taste yours and Robert’s release, mixed with the hand-rolled cigarettes that Cherry prefers.  His tongue explores your mouth, before releasing, tongue moving along your sweaty skin.  “Cum,” he hums down at you.  Your body so used to that command, it listens, moaning onto his collarbone.  “What number, Baby Girl?”
“Eighteen.”
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Your body bounces on top of a sitting Cherry, his arms helping to coax your aching body over his.  His mouth nips and suck at your tits that bounce in his face.  You look over to Robert, who slowly fists his cock.  “You look so fucking hot riding him, Pretty Girl.  Don’t worry.  We’ll both fuck you in a bit.  Give us another.  Cherry needs to cum in her, in my fucking pussy.”
Now you’re determined to feel Cherry coat your walls.  Getting excited enough to smack his face, your hand holds tightly to his chin, lifting his head up to look at you.  “Wanna see what you look like when you cum in me.”  
Robert laughs, “Goah, you’re such a fucking whore.  And I fucking love it, Pretty Girl.”
Your gaze never leaves Cherry’s, staring deeply into his cerulean blue eyes, “Cum, sweet Cherry Pop.”  
His hands hold tightly to your hips, you watch as he comes undone.  His abs tighten as he shoots his load deep into your throbbing pussy, the warmth from him causes your own release.  Yelling on top of him, slowly rolling your hips over him, to let you both ride out your high.  “Good, boy,” your voice is so hoarse as you whisper down at him.  “That’s thirty.”
Once he realizes who he gave power to, his arms move you to be flat on your back.  His hands slide up the back of your legs, stopping behind your knees, and he spreads yours legs, pressing your thighs to the side of your body.  Leaning over he sees his seed leak out of your quivering walls.  Bringing his tongue to your spread hole, he licks it up.  Leaning over your face, you know he wants your mouth open, tongue hanging out, while he spits his spend into your mouth.  You release a wanton mewl at the taste of both you and Cherry.  Leaning back, he smacks at your spread pussy lips, palming your entrance, before issuing another slap.  Scooping up more of his leaking cum, shoving it into your mouth.  “You really are a cumslut aren’t you, Baby Girl?”
“Fucking hell, seven more to go.  And I really just want to ruin her.  Ruin my pretty little pussy.”
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“Come on you fucking cockslut.  Give me one fucking more.  One more, Pretty Girl.  Fuck!”  Robert fucks deep into your ass, while Cherry fucks into your over stimulated cunt.  His lips softly kiss whatever piece of skin he can get his mouth on.  Robert’s hands hold tightly to your chin, lifting your face up to look at him.
“Please, Sir.  I can’t,” your body is beyond tired.  Thirty-six consecutive orgasms have you wrecked.  These two menaces have your body dumb and numb.  Each of them, slip easily in your body.  Covered in your slick and their cum.  
“You can do it Baby Girl.  You’re almost done.”
“Fuck.  You’re gonna give me one fucking more.  You know why?  Because you’re my fucking whore.”  His pelvis smacks on your ass as he pounds into you.  Your body trembles and shakes as you feel your final orgasm build up.
“I can’t.  Please…oh fuck…fuck…”
“You can and you fucking will.  I’ll teach you to fucking touch her.  She’s mine, and only I can tell you when you can fucking touch her.  Now, cum.”
Your fingers intertwine with Cherry’s as you scream through your orgasm.  Body convulsing as Robert spurts on your back.  Cherry’s hips rock up into you, until you feel his hot cum paint your walls for the second time of the night.
When Robert pulls out of you, your body collapses on the bed.  Both men’s fingers take their cum, painting your body with their thick spunk.  Drawing hearts, and stars.  You’re unsure exactly what they’re doing.  Your body exhausted, your mind mush.
“Now, since you took your punishment so well.  I think it’s time for us to take care of you.  Get you cleaned up,” the softness returns to Robert.  His hands pull you close to him.  “Fill the bath,” he demands Cherry.  Cherry obeys.  Filling the tub, adding a bath bomb right as Robert brings you in there.  Lowering you into the warm water.  And you drift off.  Unaware of anything else for the night.
You come to the next morning.  Your body holding tightly to Robert’s.  Your head laying on his pillowy pecs, while Cherry clings tightly to your waist, his head resting against your back.  Seeing these two men hold onto, and how relaxed you feel, despite how sore you are, you allow your body to drift back to sleep.  Inhaling the soft smells of your Freezy baby and sweet Cherry Pop.
Masterlist
Taglist:   @autumnrose40​ @trying-2bcool​ @sixball​ @rebekahdawkins​​ @rainbowkisses31
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tsukkiseasalt · 3 years
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Eyes That Won’t Wonder
1
description: after the death of your former patient you are assigned to Mr. Wakatoshi, a quiet, handsome, older gentleman who quite frankly doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself or his dick in his pants.
warning this story will contain: smut, smut & more smut. specifically breeding, anal, dirty talk, friends fucking, camboy bokuto, himbo bokuto, &so much more!
“Is this what you wanted, to be bent over in a filthy public bathroom and used as a human cum disposal?” He grunted into your ear, voice thick and full with lust.
This isn't what you had at all expected when you had gotten assigned to him, and in all honesty you didn’t even think you’d like him; nonetheless, you agreed with him. “Y-yes sir.”
 “Who would have ever thought the sweet girl that I met not even five months would be so fucking eager to get fucked and filled in such a place like this?” His words caused your head to spin. An array of struggled moans slipped past his thick fingers which he had shoved between your puffy red pout and down your throat which had previously been occupied by his cock. 
“It’s ok though doll, I’ve wanted this too.” He groaned, snapping his hips forward. 
His free hand that was knotted into your hair yanked you up and forced you to look in the mirror in front of you. You didn't even recognize yourself like this, but this is what you wanted after all right.
The morning sun that filtered through the curtains danced on your cheeks while you scrolled aimlessly on your phone. 
“Hey, hey, hey.!.” You heard as the door opened revealing your bubbly bright eyed roommate. A small smile graced your face as he laid down beside you wrapping a thick arm around you. 
“Hey.” You said putting your phone down looking down at him.
“You ready for today?” He asked rubbing circles on your thighs, fingertips rough on your skin.
You shrugged as you watched him, “I guess so, it's been kinda hard since Washijō passed.”
Bokuoto’s usual smile turned into a slight frown as you mentioned your old patient turned friend. “He’s not suffering anymore.” He said quietly, trying to comfort you. 
“ I know, I just miss the old geezer sometimes.” You mumble letting your fingers glide through his two-toned locks. “But the report says that the new guy, Ushi-something, is only in his late 50’s.”
Bokuto now wore a puzzled expression on his face. “That’s not exactly old.”
“I know, but hey at least he’s not on his deathbed.” You say knocking on your wooden nightstand.
He laughed at the gesture and rolled off you. “It’s almost 7, so you should probably start getting ready if you're gonna be there by 7:30.” 
“I know but the bed is so comfortable.” You whined stretching out over the entirety of the space.
“I bet it won't be so comfortable after your in it everyday when you get fired for missing your first day back in three weeks.” He sassed hands on his hips. 
“Shouldn’t you be getting fucked in the ass or something?” You questioned whipping your head around to look at him.
He gasped and threw a shirt that was on the floor at you. “I do the fucking thank you very much!” He exclaimed dramatically as he sauntered out of your room.
“Tell that lie to someone who’s going to believe you miss butt-plug.” You yelled rolling off the bed and onto the floor with a thump. “Ow.”
“I hate you!” He screamed. “I’m getting a new roommate!”
“ Good luck finding someone who will disinfect your toys while you're at the gym.” You retaliate, digging through your dresser to find your scrubs.
“You did that out of your own free will.” He said, popping his head into your door throwing something at you. Your scrubs.
“Thanks love.” You smile.
“Still hate you.” He says crossing his arms in your doorway. You amble over to him and get on your tiptoes planting a wet kiss on his cheek. “Still hate me now.”
“Y-yes, what the fuck was that supposed to do?” He asked, wiping his cheek.
“I dunno, worked in highschool.” You shrugged, pulling your shirt off revealing your chest along with the rest of your unclothed body. 
“Getting naked won't work either.”
“Why? Am I not sexy anymore?” You fake pouted, pulling your bra on along with your top.
“No, still very sexy, I've just developed an immunity for it.” He said matter of factly. 
“Hmmm.” You mumbled pulling up your pants. “Guess i'll just have to find a new way to get you to love me.” You mumbled purposely grazing his cock as you pushed past him to get to the bathroom. “But if I do say so myself, it doesn't feel like you’ve developed an immunity. Felt hard as a rock to me.” 
“Hey hey hey, don’t get me all worked up just to leave for work.” He mumbled, reaching a long arm out to pull you to him by your waist. You could feel his breath against your lips as his skilled fingers worked into your waistband and started to knead your ass like it was bread dough.
“No no, you hate me, remember.” You say reaching around grabbing his hand and forcing him to stop. 
“I was just kidding bro, please don’t do this. I haven’t gotten to touch you in forever please mamas.” He pleaded, emphasizing the last word, seeing as to how he knew it was your weakness. 
“Don’t you have a boyfriend.” You mumbled tilting your head back ever so slightly so he could plant light kisses in all the places he knew you liked them most. 
“Open relationship.” He mumbled into your skin. “And kaashi specifically said i can have you whenever i pleased.”
“Oh really.” You moaned as he sucked on the flesh just beneath your earlobe.
“Yep, he actually wanted you to shoot a scene with us.” He groaned, grinding his length into your stomach. 
“Fuck, Bo, I’m gonna be late.” You moaned as he rubbed around your tight pucker before pushing past the tight muscles.
“No you're not, I can do this while you get ready.” He whispered lowly in your ear. 
“Fuck, fine.” You moan, hands grabbing at his hair. He lifts you and takes you to the bathroom placing you down in front of the sink. You moan as he pulls your pants down immediately falling to his knees, tongue darting out to lap your hole. “Oh my fuck.” You whine, grabbing your toothbrush. You have to really focus and resist the urge to spread your cheeks so he could have better access to you in order to put the toothpaste on the toothbrush.
“Yum.” He groans and brings his hands to spread you out almost as though he had read your mind. You shove your hips back further into his face as you brush your teeth, struggling to keep your head up. 
“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.” He says getting up and grabbing the bottle of lube off the counter. He squirts some on his fingers and massages it into your hole and pulls his sweats down to lather the remainder of it onto his cock. You spit as he pushes into you. Slowly but surely he thrusts into you, hands harshly gripping your ass. 
“Fuck.” You whine, hands gripping the edge of this sink as you struggle to keep you composure.
“That’s what I'm doing.” He mumbles wickedly in your ear. You cry out as he begins hitting your g-spot repeatedly. 
“Gunna, c-cum.” You manage your head falling onto the countertop. He speeds up his thrust and you can feel him begin to twitch in you motioning that he’s now chasing his own release. 
“Fuckkkk!” You exclaim legs quivering as you squirt all onto your bottoms and the floor beneath you. 
“Shit.” He groans slamming into you one final time before he pulls out and finishes on your ass.
You both huff as you catch your breath. 
“Dammit now I gotta change, and I still havent done my makeup.” You sigh pulling your head off the cool porcelain. 
“Here.” He says handing you a moist towel. “You clean yourself up and I'll go get your other scrubs.” 
You nod to him kinda as a silent thank you and then he disappears to get your other uniform. You step out of your drenched bottoms and pull your top over your head tossing them in the basket in the corner. You gently wipe the remaining lube from your ass and your juices from your legs before tossing the towel in the basket as well.
“Here.” He says handing you an identical uniform to the one you just took off. You hurriedly slide them on and rush back to your room to get your phone.
“Have you seen my bag…” You trail off as you see him standing with it in hand beside the door. 
“Thanks.”You say, grabbing it. “And do the laundry.”
“You can't ask nicely?” He huffs causing you to roll your eyes.
“Do the fucking laudry or ill shove that so far down your fucking throat itll come out of that pretty plump little behind of yours.” You say sweetly pointing at that large purple dildo sitting on the couch.
“You think my ass is plump huh?” He smirks, leaning against the door.
“Laundry.” You say sternly.
“Fine.” He mumbles now rolling his eyes. He opens the door allowing you out. 
“Be safe.” He waves as you open your car door.
“Kk, don’t burn the house down.” You wave back. 
“No promises.” He says smiling innocently before slamming the door. 
Shaking your head you get in and set off in the direction that the GPS instructs. 
“Nice, made it in time and with time to spare.” You mumble to yourself sliding your watch onto your wrist. You pulled up to the gate, typed in the numbers that were scribbled at the bottom of the paper, and thankfully it opened without a struggle. You slowly drove up the long driveway admiring the array of greenery that was along the path. 
“Goodness.” You gawked once you caught sight of the house. It was huge. “Who the hell even is this guy?” You mumble parking in front. You pull out the paper and scan over it. There isn’t much beside the fact that he had back surgery two years back. That was odd, he was only 59, and only had one major issue. Usually the company wouldn't even send someone out unless that patient was in their late 60’s and had major health issues- Washijō for example, he was 83, had two bum knees as well as a new hip. Compared to him this new guy- Ushijima Wakatoshi- was a spring chicken in your eyes.
Shrugging you grabbed your bag and headed for the front door, again admiring the beauty of the home. You grab the knocker and give it two big hits and wait. Moments later you hear the lock on the other side turning. The door opens revealing a handsome man with golden eyes, olive hair and a tall build. 
“You must be Mr. Wakatoshi’s son, I hope I'm not pronouncing that incorrectly, I’m his new home health aid” You smile, eyes wandering down to his bare chest. He’s almost in as great shape as Bo & he’s probably twice his age. You think to yourself, eyes glancing at his biceps before making eye contact with him again. 
He lets out a sound that resembles a cough and you realize that's his laugh. “You pronounced it just fine, and no, I’m Mr. Wakatoshi.” If not for the words you would have been drooling at the low rasp that was his voice.
“What, what!” You shriek.
i was really hornknee when i came up with this concept. lets see where it gets me :)
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edupunkn00b · 9 months
Text
Where the Air is Sweet, Chapter 2
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Photo by Rachel Martin on Unsplash
Prev - Ch. 2 - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]
Logan comes home with exciting news. And a problem.
WC: 960 - Rated: G - CW: Patton says fudge, fluff -
Patton hummed, bopping his head to the rhythm of the bubbling marinara he stirred on the stove top. First tapping the wooden spoon on the edge of the saucepan, he then blew on the bit of sauce left behind and tasted it. Wobbling his head, he tapped the spices in the cabinet before landing on the cumin and shaking in a generous amount. After stirring the pot once more, he took another taste and grinned. "Perfect!"
The sound of footsteps and Logan's whistling drew Patton's attention and he dropped the spoon in the saucepan, not noticing the sizzle and splatter of red sauce. He'd just finished detangling the ties on his apron, pulling it off and over his head when Logan stepped inside. "Lo! You're home!"
"Good evening, Pat," Logan smiled, slipping off his shoes and hanging his jacket and keys on their hooks by the door. With a little chuckle, he picked up Patton's shoes where he'd kicked them off after he'd returned from work and tucked them neatly on the rack next to his own.
"Oops. Thanks," he giggled and pulled Logan into a bear hug. Logan squeezed back just as firmly and Patton sighed happily. "What's got you in such a good mood? I haven't seen you this happy after work in a long time."
"I have news," Logan began, his voice in an uncharacteristic sing-song.
Still gripping his arms, Patton pulled back, eyes wide. "You didn't!" he gasped.
"I did!"
"You got the interview!" Patton cheered and, both arms wrapped around him, lifted the taller man up off his feet.
"I got it," Logan laughed, a little strained and Patton squeezed and spun him around their tiny kitchen. "Wait, Pat—" Bubbling and the hiss of sauce hitting the hot burner pulled their attention. "I believe your spaghetti sauce is boiling over."
"Oh, fudge!" Patton let go and Logan dropped to his feet. As Patton clicked off the burner, Logan wet a kitchen towel and dabbed at the counter and cooler splotches on the stove top. "Thanks, Lo," he grinned and offered him a taste.
Humming his approval, Logan nodded and rinsed the towel before wringing it out and laying it to dry near the sink. His face soon turned somber.
"I… I must admit, while I am gratified to have passed the first round of screenings, I am a bit nervous about the interview process itself." Logan's voice was low, his words precise, and Patton listened carefully, nodding along but not staring at him as he spoke. "I devoted the majority of my preparations to assembling my c.v. and portfolio, developing my metaphorical 'elevator pitch.' I…" He pursed his lips, a not quite frown. "I have failed to properly prepare for the actual interview."
"I wouldn't call it a failure, Lo," Patton gently bumped his shoulder, then pulled plates and glasses from the cabinet. "You just haven't prepped for the interview yet." He grinned when Logan looked back at him with that half-frown. But his eyes sparkled with a bit of hope and Patton's grin grew. "I can help. I'll pretend to be the interviewer and ask you all the hard questions."
"That is very sweet, Pat, truly, it is." He squeezed Patton's shoulder, thumb rubbing gently over the curve of his deltoid. "I am interviewing with Mr. Wolf. His name is rather on the nose. He's known for a rather… harsh demeanor." Patton met his eyes and Logan's smile softened. "You are anything but harsh, Pat."
"I can pretend!" Patton nodded, setting down the plates and taking Logan's hand. He bounced on the balls of his feet, resembling a wolf pup more than a dangerous predator. "If it'll help you, I can do it." Logan tilted his head, still smiling. Patton bounced again. "Please?"
"Very well," Logan laughed. "Though the puppy dog eyes seem to prove my point, any assistance you can render will help."
Straightening to his full height, he looked up at Logan, brow furrowed and lips pressed together in a scowl. "You'll see. I can do it, Lo. Now, where's your resume, Mr.s Sanders?"
His attempt at a 'harsh' expression somehow looked even more adorable but Logan matched his seriousness. "Thank you, Mr. Hart." Patton simply raised an eyebrow, hand outstretched and Logan hurried to fetch a copy of his resume and portfolio from his satchel. "Right away, Mr. Hart."
Nodding curtly, Patton accepted the packet and wordlessly sat down at the counter. When Logan didn't immediately join him, he made a small tsk and looked pointedly at the dinner still on the stove before glaring. "I believe this is a dinner interview, Mr. Sanders. I hope you're not here to waste my time."
Blinking at the radical change, he stammered, "Yes, I mean, no, of course not. Sir," he added after Patton continued to stare at him. He filled two plates with pasta and salad and a bit of the garlic bread he was unsuprised to find Patton had been keeping warm in the oven and hurried to sit across from his suddenly stern interviewer.
"Hm," Patton said before frowning at the resume. Logan sat up straighter and arranged a napkin in his lap before lacing his fingers together under the table to hide his nervousness. Logan waited, alternating between flexing his hands under the table and twirling his pasta. Patton seemingly ignored him.
After a long moment, Patton looked up at him over the top of the resume, eyes twinkling. "How am I doing, Lo?" he whispered, mirth filling his voice.
"E—excellent," Logan nodded, the sudden break in character just as discombobulating as his sudden strictness had been.
Patton flashed him one more grin before the cold, stony mask once again fell over his features. "Then let's begin."
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georgiapeach305132 · 3 years
Text
Mr. Freezy Pops, Pt. 12 BONUS
Summary:  After having both Robert and Cherry, you’re insatiable.  AND tired of them leaving you behind with a guard, so you can’t help but be bratty.
Pairings:  Robert “Mr. Freezy” Pronge X Reader X destroyer!Chris “Cherry Pop”
Rating:  Explicit *This is just gratuitous because Pretty Girl didn’t break all of Robert’s rules
Warnings:  Explicit language, explicit sexual content, SMUT, masturbation (F/M), unprotected sex, pleasure dom, multiple orgasm, fingering, oral sex (F receiving), sex toy play, being filmed without knowledge, breast play, pussy slapping, degradation, swallowing, threesome (2M/1F), spitting, cumplay, cum marking, double penetration, overstimulation 18+ ONLY
Word Count:  2.6k
Series Masterlist
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Since your night with both Robert and Cherry, and the wrapping up of “the plan” they seem to be out of the house, and away from you more often than not.  Placing your guard at the front door and leaving you alone.  Alone to stew in your thoughts.  You should just tell Robert that you’re pregnant.  Cherry knew, seeing how he was the one that bought the test for you.  Even he is urging you to just be honest with Robert, but with everything going on with the plan, it doesn’t seem right.
And yet, here you are pregnant, and horny as hell.  Left alone and one of your rules is to not touch yourself.  Every part of you wants to touch yourself.  Every day you think about the amazing night with Robert and Cherry.  While you do not have that crazy unexplainable love with Cherry that you do have with Robert, you can’t deny that you love him.  Not to mention the man is beautiful.  The calmness to Robert’s constant raging storm.
Walking into your room for a nap, you can’t help but to stare at the bedside table that holds yours and Robert’s treasure chest of toys.  With a growl you stand and walk into the bathroom for a cold shower.  Would a punishment be so bad?  What exactly would Robert actually do to?  And the thought of allowing Cherry to join in on the punishment makes your body heat up.
Without even realizing it your hands have drifted over your body.  You assume it’s still quite early in your pregnancy, because you can’t see any physical changes in your body, however, you are extra sensitive.  The barely there touch over your nipples makes you keen.  You haven’t even touched the part of your body that you really want.  The part that is aching for your touch, preferably Robert’s.   
You finish washing off the remaining bubbles, wrapping yourself in a towel before going over to the treasure chest of drawers.  Digging past the toys Robert prefers using on you.  You know there has to be something new that he’s never used on you.  Searching and feeling almost disappointed that all the sensations will be the same, until you spot in the back something bright pink.  Still in the box, claiming to stimulate your g spot and clit, with vibrations and sucking.  
With the most sinful smile on your face, you rip into the box, taking the toy to clean, because safety first, and setting yourself up on the bed to position the hot pink toy perfectly on your body.  With what Robert and Cherry do, you never know how long that it may take, but the way this toy is actually stimulating you in the way you have been waiting for you really couldn’t care.
Your body takes over and before you know it, you’re straddling a pillow in the middle of the bed.  Grinding over top of it, and feeling the toy work you perfectly.  Pulling out orgasm after orgasm.  Shouting through each one, and it’s not only satisfying, but extremely delightful.  And when you’ve had enough you struggle to clean up the wet mess that you’ve made, cleaning the toy and placing it back in the drawer.  
Unbeknownst to you, Robert has a near perfect memory.  Also, you should have remembered that Robert knows.  And how does he know?  He thought a nanny cam in the bedroom while he was away would be the best thing.  Randomly he decided to check in on the camera, and saw you humping his pillow while screaming in ecstasy.  “Oh, she’s in fucking trouble now.  My naïve fucking slut,” he grunts.  This of course gets Cherry Pop’s attention.
“What did she do this time?” he asks.
“She’s touching herself.  I didn’t give her permission for that.  She’s fucking my pillow.”
Now, Cherry knows that you’re pregnant, so he doesn’t want Robert to be so hard on you.  “What do you have in mind?”
“Let’s see how long this feed lasts.”  As soon as you finish, pitifully attempting to clean up your mess before retreating to a nap in the living, he figures up that you had in fact been playing for thirty-seven minutes.  “Looks like Pretty Girl is getting thirty-seven fucking orgasms today.  May need your help,” he informs Cherry.  Cherry doesn’t respond.  He can only lick his lips, gripping tighter to the steering wheel.  He had been hoping for some more time to be buried deep inside of you.
“You don’t fucking care to help, do you?”
“I only aim to please.”
“She might be so fucked out that she may let you have a fucking chance at my pussy.”
Cherry can’t look at Robert.  He knows he has to tread lightly when it comes to you.  If he seems too eager, he’ll piss Robert off.  So, it’s best to just to be nonchalant.
When they arrive home, Robert walks closer to your sleeping form on the couch.  Almost taking pity on you, but of course Robert’s fury knows no bounds, and you deliberately disobeyed him.  Even using a toy that hadn’t been opened before.  His knuckles graze lightly across your cheek, and you should have known by his too sweet voice he was up to something.
“Is my Pretty Girl tired?” you look up, seeing Cherry take a long drag from a cigarette, eyes dark watching you.
“Yeah.  I was really tired.  Sorry I haven’t started supper.”
“You tired from fucking touching yourself for so long?” you can only look at him.  Shaking your head slowly, and then looking at Cherry who smirks at you, blowing up a trail of smoke.  “You going to lie to me?  I told you I would fucking know if you touched yourself,” pulling his phone out he plays the video feed and you hear yourself screaming, not seeing the video.  “I would have liked to seen this in person.  Do you know how long you were fucking that pillow?”
“No, Sir.”
“Thirty-seven fucking minutes.  It seems only fair that I make you cum thirty-seven times, right?”
“Sir...”
“No arguing.  Get your pretty little ass undressed.  I’m about to start fucking you with my fingers.”
“Sir, please,” your voice a whimper.  And you don’t know if it’s because you’re excited or almost embarrassed that Cherry is sitting watching you.
“Don’t look at him.  He’s going to have to fucking help with your punishment.  Thirsty-seven fucking orgasms,” you gulp as you begin to undress.  The number of times that Cherry has seen you in various stages of undress, you shouldn’t worried about that.  “I see you keep looking at him.  You going to let him fuck that tight cunt?  I’d let him fuck my pussy if he eats my cum out of that pretty kitty.  You want him too, don’t you?”
You nod your head, only watching Robert.  “That’s fucking right.  I knew you did.  My perfect little slut.”
Robert tires of you removing your clothes slowly.  Hungrily he rips off the remaining pieces, leaving you completely exposed while both men are fully dressed.  Positioning your body so your face is pointed directly at Cherry’s, ass stuck in the air while Robert’s fingers run through your folds.  Spreading your slick around before entering three fingers in your swollen cunt.  “Such a fucking slut.  You’re drenched Pretty Girl.  Is it the thought of thirty-seven orgasms doing it for you, or Cherry buried deep in your fucking cunt?” Robert laughs.  “Well, she doesn’t lie.  She was clenching me tightly.  You think he deserves her?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You know he’s been fucking good to us, don’t cha, Pretty Girl?”
“MmmHmm,” your voice already going soft as you feel your belly heat up.  The tightening of the rubber band with your impending orgasm.  Robert’s thumb creates tight circles on your clit, eliciting a moan from your mouth.  Hiding your face into the couch.  Robert’s fingers grip you by the roots of your hair, lifting you back up to look at Cherry Pop.
“He wants to fucking see you when you cum.  Be a good little slut for me, okay?” his head leans onto your ass, giving your cheek a small little nibble, as you cum on his fingers.  The euphoria washes over your body, and you know these two are going to have you begging them to stop.  “Start counting, Pretty Girl.”
“One,” your voice whispers.
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Robert hammers your body into the couch as his hips pound into yours.  His fingers gripping you tightly, and your body is damn near numb.  “Fucking ruined this couch.  Jus’ gonna have to buy another one.  Come on, Pretty Girl, make me fucking cum.  Maybe your sweet Cherry boy will be softer for you.”
Words do not exist in your mind anymore with the many times Robert has made you cum, and now he wants his own release.  The number of times he’s watched your face as you’ve came undone over his fingers and mouth.  The sounds that leaked from your mouth, it all became too much.  And now his body angrily pounds into you.  “Aw, has my Pretty Girl turned into my dumb baby?  Cockdrunk and we’re not even halfway fucking there.”  
You feel your walls tighten around Robert’s cock, and his gasp, you know he feels it, too.  “S’close Pretty Girl.  So fucking close,” his thrusts are fierce.  His shining blue eyes watch while your eyebrows furrow, waiting for his say so.  “Cum,” he grunts out.  Your body obeys as the hot tendrils of his cum plants deep in your abused cunt.
“Sixteen.”
“Cherry boy, I think we’re going to have to move this to the floor or the fucking bedroom.  But first,” Robert doesn’t finish as he pulls out of you.  
Cherry’s body moves over to yours.  Settling himself in between your thighs, watching your spread and waiting cunt.  His face lowers down onto your pussy, not only giving your clit a few nibbles and sucking on it, but lapping up yours and Robert’s juices.  
He works your body slowly.  Sweetly.  Your fingers spread over his head, using his smooth fade cut to bring you back to earth.  Readjusting his body, he enters two fingers into your walls.  His movements still remain calm, needing you to realize who is wanting to make you cum.  When he sees your eyes finally focus on him, his fingers curl into you.  Rubbing along your spongy walls, before the rush of a quick orgasm washes over you.
“Seventeen,” your voice a bit steadier, but still trembling.
Cherry’s body crawls over you, allowing you to feel his hardened length through his jeans.  His body grinding over your spread core, feeling the denim of his pants stimulate your clit.  His lips suck along the column of your neck, leaving his marks on you.  Peppering kisses up you until his lips hover over yours.  “You want to taste you two on my lips, Baby Girl?”
Quickly nodding your head, you look into his blue eyes, already feeling another orgasm build up in the pit of your stomach.  His lips crash onto yours, while you taste yours and Robert’s release, mixed with the hand-rolled cigarettes that Cherry prefers.  His tongue explores your mouth, before releasing, tongue moving along your sweaty skin.  “Cum,” he hums down at you.  Your body so used to that command, it listens, moaning onto his collarbone.  “What number, Baby Girl?”
“Eighteen.”
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Your body bounces on top of a sitting Cherry, his arms helping to coax your aching body over his.  His mouth nips and suck at your tits that bounce in his face.  You look over to Robert, who slowly fists his cock.  “You look so fucking hot riding him, Pretty Girl.  Don’t worry.  We’ll both fuck you in a bit.  Give us another.  Cherry needs to cum in her, in my fucking pussy.”
Now you’re determined to feel Cherry coat your walls.  Getting excited enough to smack his face, your hand holds tightly to his chin, lifting his head up to look at you.  “Wanna see what you look like when you cum in me.”  
Robert laughs, “Goah, you’re such a fucking whore.  And I fucking love it, Pretty Girl.”
Your gaze never leaves Cherry’s, staring deeply into his cerulean blue eyes, “Cum, sweet Cherry Pop.”  
His hands hold tightly to your hips, you watch as he comes undone.  His abs tighten as he shoots his load deep into your throbbing pussy, the warmth from him causes your own release.  Yelling on top of him, slowly rolling your hips over him, to let you both ride out your high.  “Good, boy,” your voice is so hoarse as you whisper down at him.  “That’s thirty.”
Once he realizes who he gave power to, his arms move you to be flat on your back.  His hands slide up the back of your legs, stopping behind your knees, and he spreads yours legs, pressing your thighs to the side of your body.  Leaning over he sees his seed leak out of your quivering walls.  Bringing his tongue to your spread hole, he licks it up.  Leaning over your face, you know he wants your mouth open, tongue hanging out, while he spits his spend into your mouth.  You release a wanton mewl at the taste of both you and Cherry.  Leaning back, he smacks at your spread pussy lips, palming your entrance, before issuing another slap.  Scooping up more of his leaking cum, shoving it into your mouth.  “You really are a cumslut aren’t you, Baby Girl?”
“Fucking hell, seven more to go.  And I really just want to ruin her.  Ruin my pretty little pussy.”
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“Come on you fucking cockslut.  Give me one fucking more.  One more, Pretty Girl.  Fuck!”  Robert fucks deep into your ass, while Cherry fucks into your over stimulated cunt.  His lips softly kiss whatever piece of skin he can get his mouth on.  Robert’s hands hold tightly to your chin, lifting your face up to look at him.
“Please, Sir.  I can’t,” your body is beyond tired.  Thirty-six consecutive orgasms have you wrecked.  These two menaces have your body dumb and numb.  Each of them, slip easily in your body.  Covered in your slick and their cum.  
“You can do it Baby Girl.  You’re almost done.”
“Fuck.  You’re gonna give me one fucking more.  You know why?  Because you’re my fucking whore.”  His pelvis smacks on your ass as he pounds into you.  Your body trembles and shakes as you feel your final orgasm build up.
“I can’t.  Please...oh fuck...fuck...”
“You can and you fucking will.  I’ll teach you to fucking touch her.  She’s mine, and only I can tell you when you can fucking touch her.  Now, cum.”
Your fingers intertwine with Cherry’s as you scream through your orgasm.  Body convulsing as Robert spurts on your back.  Cherry’s hips rock up into you, until you feel his hot cum paint your walls for the second time of the night.
When Robert pulls out of you, your body collapses on the bed.  Both men’s fingers take their cum, painting your body with their thick spunk.  Drawing hearts, and stars.  You’re unsure exactly what they're doing.  Your body exhausted, your mind mush.
“Now, since you took your punishment so well.  I think it’s time for us to take care of you.  Get you cleaned up,” the softness returns to Robert.  His hands pull you close to him.  “Fill the bath,” he demands Cherry.  Cherry obeys.  Filling the tub, adding a bath bomb right as Robert brings you in there.  Lowering you into the warm water.  And you drift off.  Unaware of anything else for the night.
You come to the next morning.  Your body holding tightly to Robert’s.  Your head laying on his pillowy pecs, while Cherry clings tightly to your waist, his head resting against your back.  Seeing these two men hold onto, and how relaxed you feel, despite how sore you are, you allow your body to drift back to sleep.  Inhaling the soft smells of your Freezy baby and sweet Cherry Pop.
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forcebewitht · 4 years
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Heads Will Roll For Your Insolence...And Maybe Some Hearts With It (Overblot!Riddle Rosehearts x Reader)
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How had things gone wrong so fast? Why were you here to begin with?  What was the deal with some of these crazy people in this crazy world?! Were you going mad?! Regardless of the millions of questions that buzzed in your mind, all you could focus on was the bloodshot, redheaded boy, Riddle Rosehearts, who was completely flipping his lid. Your little ragtag group seemingly had pushed the male to his edge with your constant questioning of his rules- well, the rules of the Queen Of Hearts, that is. The Headmaster of Night Raven College, Dire Crowley, was already placing his hands onto his hips and allowing his eyes to widen in both worry and fear. "Mr. Rosehearts, you mustn't! You know what will happen! If you keep using magic, your Magic Crystal will be covered in Blot!"  Despite the Headmaster's desperate cries, Riddle placed his hand onto his chest, his eyebrows furrowing even further than they had before. "I am….I AM ABSOLUTELY…POSITIVELY….DEFINITELY CORRREEEECCCTTTT!"  Riddle's childhood friend, Trey, was now screaming right back at him in his own, dire moment of fear. "RIDDDDDDDDDLLLEEEEEEEEEE!" But despite the cries and warnings, it was already too late. An odd, black mud-like substance began to seep up and spread out from the ground itself, wrapping itself around Riddle. All your group could do now was to stand by and watch this horrifying transformation take place. 
A creature, oddly like the one you encountered with the Shared Brain Cell Squad in the Dwarves' Mines, appeared behind Riddle. The entire rose maze of the Heartslabyl Dorm seemed to come to life as Riddle began to laugh- no, cackle- at this new surge of power he felt. "Hehehehehe….HAHAHAHAHAHA! Those foolish enough to disobey me….they have no place in my world. I am the law in my world! I am the rules! No response other than, 'Yes, Lord Riddle!' Will be accepted! IT'S OFF THE HEADS WITH ANYONE WHO DISOBEYS ME! AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAA!"  Crowley began to groan at the sight- both in worry and slight annoyance. "In all my years as Headmaster...to see a student Overblot right in front of me!" Grim was quick to vocalize your own concerns, his eyebrows raising and his eyes widening. "GGGHHHH- WHAT'S HAPPENING TO HIM?! THAT GUY HAS A DESPERATE AIR TO HIM NOW!" And you were very swift to join in. "He's completely losing it!"  Everyone near you began to pitch in and explain what Overblot was- a mixture of Boot buildup from too much magic use combined with negative energy. Crowley soon darted off, now evacuating the other students as quickly as he could from the dorm. Your friends boldly began to attack the now rampaging Prefect of Heartslabyl. Riddle turned his head, almost laughing at this pitiful display. Though, his initial reaction of laughter soon faded away with his bubbling rage. "This guy...that guy...I'LL TAKE YOUR HEADS OFF ALL AT ONCE!"  
Riddle charged, though not before he caught your gaze. You. This had all started when you arrived. Why, you had no business coming into his Unbirthday Party celebration on a mere rebellious freshman's behalf. And looking so cute in their uniform….should have been a crime. The split second your eyes met, Riddle sent a rather devilish smirk your way. He'd make a rule follower out of you, yet. Instead of going for the frontal attack he was originally planning, he spun around in a wide circle. The boys were sent flying off their feet, then smacked over into the nearby rose bushes by...whatever that monstrosity was behind Riddle. Cater, Deuce, and Grim were knocked out on impact. Ace and Trey struggled to stand, both gritting their teeth and fighting through the pain of some rose thorns now being lodged in their skin. Trey was the first one to speak up to you. "G-go on- run, [Y/n]! We'll handle him- get back to the school and gather the staff to help out!"  Ace joined right in with a nod. "Run and don't look back, you hear me?! We've got this little rugrat under control!" At their reassurances, you nod. You had no magic to begin with- what else could you possibly do? Riddle, however, wasn't going to let you go that easily…
Riddle simply stood completely still and watched you run off into the rose maze. The second you were out of his line of sight, he swiftly turned on his heels. Both of his arms swung back, making two heart-shaped rose trees soar back and knock out both Ace and Trey with the others. The King of Heartslabyl began to walk, albeit half angry and half amused. You were fiercely running, your heart practically pounding in your chest as you could hear his loud yet slow footsteps behind you. Like he was mocking you. As if to add on to this thought, Riddle called out. "Oh, Prefecccctttttt...don't make your new Lord Riddle wait on you...come back here and let us talk this out."  Riddle's voice held a dangerous growl to it, and you could practically hear the dark grin seeping from the male merely from his tone. This gave power to your mad dash even further, as you were now beginning to attempt to figure a way out of the maze. It seemed like you may collapse at any minute. Disaster soon struck as you turned another corner- and hit a dead end. "GAAAAHHHH! WHY IS THIS DORM SO BIG?!"  You couldn't help but to allow your hands to trail up into your locks in a stressed manner. Suddenly, you heard something begin to shuffle in the bushes. With a tiny shriek of panic, you leap back, watching in utter horror as Riddle seemed to pass straight through the rose Bush itself. His expression was rather blank until he met your gaze. Then, that smirk was back. "Finally got you~" 
You immediately put your hands up into a defensive position, ready to drop kick this boy if need be- or at least try. "Riddle, about what was said before, the words came off rather harshly and we are al-"  You were soon cut off by Riddle placing a finger into your lips. He then places one onto his own, sending a wink your way with a gentle shush. "You came into my dorm, ruined my  tea party with your little friends, and made me truly angry." Riddle's eyebrows had furrowed as he spoke. "And yet...even then...I cannot get you out of my head. Hehe." All you could do was drop your jaw in shock. Suddenly, Riddle began speaking some more- no, wait, was he partially singing?  "You are so mysterious….sealed with your kiss...my words so delirious...from the venom on your lips~" Riddle was beginning to creep towards you, that smirk now back upon his face. Your eyes dart from side to side. What was going on? "You're begging me to stay...I should just walk away. Take this sword from my heart, now I'm bleeding out~" Riddle's expression suddenly shifted to a more serious one for a moment. "I'm not a player in your game."  That smirk floated right back on, the boy now motioning to himself. "I'm the King of Hearts….the King of Hearts, my baby~" Riddle stalked towards you, making your figure begin to back up into the rose bush behind you. His finger shot out, now fiercely pointing at you as his expression seemed to shift to anger once more. "Don't you change the cards….you change the cards, my baby~"  Riddle then placed his hands upon his hips, allowing his head to tilt and a malicious grin to grace his lips now. "'Cause you tried, 'cause you tried, now you're moving onnn~"  Riddle placed a hand onto his heart directly, mad gaze now locking right onto your own. "And I love you, ohhhh I love you, though you did me wrong….'cause I'm the King of Hearts! The King of Hearts, my baby~" 
You attempt to turn around and dart back away past him- which you accomplish for a moment or so. But Riddle was already reemerging from behind another rose bush, making you jump in shock. "Never felt more and more alive...now that you're here~ you're the best I've ever had, yet you're asking where it all went wrong?" Your heart was racing so madly with confusion, it seemed like it may burst. Riddle stalked back towards you once more. He grabbed your wrist, now pulling you towards him. When you attempt to struggle, he simply smiles and allows a patch of a rose bush that was shaped like a tentacle to wrap around your waist instead. The tiny thorns held you in place as the scent of the roses themselves drifted up and into your nostrils. Riddle began to softly caress you, as though you in all your beauty were a rose yourself. His hands gently trailed up your waist, your arms, your neck… "I'm begging you to stay...I should just walk away. Take this sword from my heart, now I'm bleeding out~" Riddle allowed his hands to gently trail onto the back of your neck. Your pulse was quickening by the seconds given how close you were. Riddle's hands gently stroked the back of your neck. Soon, he leaned his head in towards your neck, softly smooching in a heart pattern. His eyes were still mad with a fiery anger yet a passion that you had never seen. "..I'm not the player in your game. I'm the King of Hearts...the King of Hearts, my baby~"  Riddle soon pulled away, now looking down into your eyes. He smirked upon spotting your bewildered expression. "'Cause I tried, oh I tried, but you're moving on~" Riddle's hands cupped your face and brought it towards his own. He allowed your head to settle itself against the side of his neck, the male releasing the tiniest of shudders at the sensation of your breath upon his neck. "..But I love you, ohhhhhhhh I love you, though you did me wrong...I'm the King of Hearts, my baby~" 
Riddle allowed a gloved finger to gently trail against your throat in a slow teasing manner- as though you were being beheaded. His singing soon stopped, his head tilting. "What's the matter, dear [Y/n]? Don't you enjoy your new Lord treating you with such gentleness? All are not as fortunate..ah, of course. You're a rule breaker. Allow me to nullify those urges." With that final growl, Riddle's lips met yours, his finger tilting your head up to him so he could achieve a better angle on you. His other hand cradled the back of your neck, his fingers gently stroking you adoringly. The Overblotted male's lips were rather hot in temperature, as though his prior anger and current passion had all shifted into them. They were also soft, though the kiss itself was a mixture of both gentleness with which you would smell the roses…but also with the ferocity of a King enforcing his will upon his subjects. Soon, Riddle separates, his eyes even more topsy turvy and filled with passion than before. 
"...Heads will indeed roll for your insolence...but maybe some hearts shall go along with it~"
((Hey hey! This is finally done! About as long as my Overblot!Leona x Reader piece! Lemme know if you wish to see a Part 2 to this one along with the Overblot!Jamil x Reader as well! Happy reading and possible simping💖 P.S. You get a cookie if you can guess the song which was referenced 👀
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mrslangdon666 · 3 years
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“Bathtime” Michael Langdon x reader fluff
Warnings: Male on female oral sex, daddy kink
Summary: Outpost!Michael bathes you when you’re too tired to.
YOUR POV
You were exhausted. All day you were on Michael’s laptop finally exploring the internet as he so kindly let you. Your eyes were heavy from staring at the bright screen and you were slumped over in the chair at the desk. You heard the door to Michael’s room open and you looked towards it. Michael looked at you and chuckled shaking his head at you.
“So this is what my darling was doing all day today?” He asked playfully, walking up behind you to rub your shoulders.
“Uh yes. I forgot how crazy the internet is and sorta got caught up in it.” You said sleepily with a yawn.
“Poor baby. Look how exhausted you are. Have you had your bath yet?” He asked you, quirking an eyebrow. Michael loved, and I mean loved to give you baths for some reason. And for some reason you loved it.
“No m’too tired daddy...” He tutted and picked you up bridal style, holding you close as he carried you to the bathroom. He started undressing you gently, starting with unzipping your purple dress. He removed your tight corset, much to your releaf. When he got to your bra, he teasingly and slowly pulled the straps off your shoulders, pressing an open mouthed kiss to each one. His lips were always so warm and soft on your skin, and you sighed much to Michael’s delight. Finally undoing the bra, it fell to the ground. He kissed your right breast as he kneaded the other lightly before going down to your lacey white underwear. He teasingly snapped the waistband against your hips, pulling them down your legs slowly and helping you step out of them. He hadn’t yet filled the tub, you noted.
“Go lay down in the bed darling.” He said seductively. You knew exactly what was coming next. So you went back to the bedroom as you heard him turn on the water for the bath. He came in the room, pupils blown up as he looked at you on the bed. He came up beside you and kissed your lips tentively, sliding his tongue into your mouth slowly and sweetly. After attacking your lips, his hand traveled down to your now probably soaking cunt. His finger went over your clit slowly, massaging the little bud expertly. You moaned into his neck as he sped up. Before you could cum, he stopped and got his face in between your legs.
“Look at you baby girl...your pretty little pussy is so wet and flushed.” He noted, now diving his finger straight inside of you, curling it and hitting your g-spot. Michael brought his mouth down on your clit, flicking his tongue on the exposed bundle of nerves before sucking it into his mouth. The pressure of that combined with his finger inside of you caused a coil to build up in your pelvis. He stopped sucking your clit as he looked up at your face.
“Cum for me Y/N. Cum allllllll over daddy’s face like a good girl.” And you did just that. Your orgasm burst inside of you, and Michael plunged his tongue inside of your heat to devour your delicious liquid. Your hips continued to buck against his face as he stopped. He licked his lips and stoked your thighs, picking you up and carrying you back to the bathroom. The water was now filled up perfectly, the scent of lavender invading the room from the bubbles. He placed your naked and now even more exhausted body in the water gently, sitting on a small stool beside you. He stroked your cheek sweetly before he spoke.
“How do you feel love?” He asked with a smirk.
“Tired but relaxed. Thank you daddy. You’re so good to me.” You replied quietly. He pecked your cheek as he got the sponge that was hanging, dipping it into the suds. He started washing your body gently, the soft sponge soothing you. When he washed and conditioned your hair, he held his hand over your eyes so the soap and water didn’t get into them. After bathing you, he drained the tub and wrapped you in a fluffy cotton towel, hugging your wet body close to him.
“Thank you for letting me take care of you sweetheart. I love you so much.”
Authors note: Taking a bath as I wrote this lol. Hope this was enjoyable!
Xoxo,
Mrs. Langdon🖤🫀
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icollectyoursins · 3 years
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Dio x Fem!Reader Fingering At Dinner NSFW
Anon asked for "Spicy Dio Brando request please where he's fingering his easily flustered female s/o under the table during dinner w/ the Joestars and then leads to something more spicy 😳✨"
Just a heads up: this takes place during part 1, Phantom Blood.
Dio and you have been together for a while now, so naturally dinner with his family would be the next step, right? Well, low and behold, Dio has other plans. A little test of composure, shall we say?
Wanna know what I’m willing to write? Rules here!
Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!
Looking for more? Master post here!
WARNINGS: Teasing, exhibitionism, fingering, Dio being the coy ass we all simp for.
Word Count: 1457
Just a Little Distraction
     The sound of glasses clinking as well feint voices filled your ears as you look around the room, waiting for your meals to arrive. A slender finger brushes against your thigh, bringing your attention back to the table. Dio catches your gaze, smiling in a sadistically sweet way. He slides his finger down your thigh, slowly pressing his hand into it. You bat his hand away, crossing your legs while shooting him a death glare.
     “Is everything alright, Miss (Y/N)?” George Joestar’s smooth, deep voice brought your gaze towards the other side of the table. 
     “Yes, Mr. Joestar, everything’s fine!” You lied, intertwining your fingers with Dio’s. Hopefully, that will keep him entertained for now. He was insatiable, as always, but could it at least wait until after dinner?
     “So, Dio, how was your week away from home?” Jonathan chirped in, inquiring about his adoptive brother’s life. A silent prayer was made to keep him from saying something obscene in front of his family. 
     Dio had spent the past week away from home on what they had suspected was a trip for law school or something like that, but in actuality, he had spent most of his time with you in a dodgy hotel. Your nights together were... raunchy? Passionate? What was the word you were looking for-
     His hand escaped yours, latching onto your thigh again, making you choke on the water you were sipping. 
     Lewd. That’s the word he used. 
     Frustration started to bubble up inside you as you tried to pull him away to no avail. He was so much stronger than you. How many times had he picked you up off the ground or tossed you over his shoulder or thrown you onto the bed before making love to you? Honestly, you had lost count, but the point still stands: there was no way you were getting his hand off of you. You gave in, laying yours over his, linking your fingers again.
     The night started to pass with light conversation, mostly about what you did in your free time at home, if you were educated, etc. It was pleasant, actually and the nicest you had seen Dio since the first day at the hotel (he’d only helped you bring your bags in, but still). The hand started to drift slowly towards your inner thigh, then towards your nether regions. 
     This time you used two hands to stop him, keeping your fingers locked together with one and wrapping around his bicep with the other one. It probably just looked like two lovers huddling together, smiles still stretched across your faces. At least, you hoped that was what it looked like. 
     When it looked like Jonathan and George were busy in their own conversation Dio leaned into your face, placing a kiss on your cheek before whispering in your ear.
     “You look so good tonight, (Y/N).” A shiver ran down your spine. “I can’t wait, my dear. I need you now.”
     The words were hissed, but the smile on his face was still there, deceptively sweet. You shot him another look, perplexed at his boldness. He chuckled, pecking your cheek again. He returned to the conversation, ignoring your worry. His movements were so slight, you wouldn’t have been able to notice them if you weren’t feeling his hand slowly raking up your dress. It slides back to its proper place on your thigh, warm and familiar. That son of a-
     Someone walks by and you quickly lean forward, hiding his hand from view. You pretended to be interested in the conversation, flicking your eyes to Dio who grinned back at you. His almost golden eyes sent sparks of excitement through your body. Were you actually going to let him do this? One of his fingers danced along the fabric keeping his finger away from your already sensitive folds, making you shiver.
     “Are you cold, (Y/N)?” Jonathan asked, distracting you.
     “It is a little chilly, but you’re fine, right?” Dio grinned, mischief twinkling in his eyes.
     “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for the concern, though.” You pressed yourself closer to him, hoping they would buy it. They all smiled and continued on talking about education, you think. You couldn’t really pay attention with the delicate circles being traced around your privates. Though, they weren’t really private anymore, were they? You felt the cloth being pushed aside slowly. He was right. You couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel either. 
     The anticipation was killing you. You had only actually been intimate with one another for a week, but he had some kind of spell over you. You were addicted. He could tell you to sit on his face right now and you would do it. His fingers spread your folds apart, not wasting any more time. One delicately traced over your clit once before getting braver, slowly stroking you up and down.
     You felt your face getting hotter, deciding to bury it in his arm a little more in an attempt to hide it. Dio let out a breath, trying not to laugh at your eagerness. A second digit was added to your clit, sending pleasure shooting through your nerves. He continued to torture you with a slow pace, never moving his finger from its place.
     It was easy to get used to, somehow, and you found yourself able to add to the conversation much to his dismay. Fine, he’d just have to make it harder for you to concentrate. He leaned forward onto the table, giving himself the right amount of leverage to slide one of his fingers inside your warmth, all the way up to-
     You let out a gasp, shocked at first, but you had to keep your composure. A quick glance around the table told you they didn’t notice, thank god.
     Perfect. He had you right where he wanted you. Deciding to spoil himself a little, he watched you shift, trying to find a comfortable position out the corner of his eye. You tried to relax but didn’t get the chance to as his finger rolled into your g-spot. Quickly, you covered your mouth to hold back the whimper that you knew was coming. If there was one thing you learned in your week together with Dio it was that he would always make sure people knew what he was doing to you. 
     His finger continued to rock into you, again and again, coaxing the tiniest sounds out of you that you covered with your hand or with food. He felt so good, it should be criminal to be this good. You were getting close, occasionally looking over to him, trying to catch his attention. It never worked. He knew exactly what he was doing. 
     “I think it’s time for us to be going,” George said, with Jonathan nodding afterwards, smiling kindly. 
     “Will you be returning home with us, Dio?” Jonathan asked.
     “No.” He stopped moving, finally. “I’ve still got work here. Thank you for dinner. I hope (Y/N) and I can look forward to more in the future?” The two across the table smiled.
     “Of course, it was a pleasure meeting you.” You smiled back at George.
     “And you, Mr. Joestar.” Dio was still watching you, drinking in your quivering form. If he hadn’t known better, he would have assumed you were cold or something like that. 
     Final goodbyes were said as the dinner was paid for. They got up first, making their way towards the doors, leaving you alone with him for a moment. Hazel eyes bore into yours as he slowly pulled his finger out, relishing in the small breath that passed over your lips when his hand was gone. With a devilish chuckle, he lapped up your juices, making a show of it. You panted, leaning into him, so desperate for more. 
     “The carriage is waiting, (Y/N). Let’s go.” Gently, you were ushered out of the chair. Quickly, you linked arms with him, not wanting to let him go.
     As you waited outside, Dio’s coat was wrapped around your shoulders, enveloping you in his scent. No conversation was had between you, just cheeky kisses and knowing looks at each other. You heard someone call out his name. Upon looking over you saw it was George Joestar, making you panic. He instructed you to wait while he spoke with them, promptly returning to your side a few minutes later, smiling wildly.
     “What did they want?” You asked, concerned.
     “He just wanted me to know that you looked rather sick and you should retire to bed once I drop you off at home.” A hissed chuckle rumbled through his chest as your eyes grew wide, clearly missing the joke. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you stay in bed tonight.”
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