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miokki · 1 year

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✦ WHEN YOU STUMBLE ON THEM SLEEPING

✰ synopsis: sumeru boys and their sleepy antics

✰ pairing(s): alhaitham, cyno, kaveh and tighnari x gn!reader (all seperate)

✰ content warnings: just fluff

✰ note: i actually wrote this in feb around alhaitham’s birthday so im trying to get my scraps out. also fyi i read @/mrpenguinpants’s green slumber recently is similar.

❈ ALHAITHAM

you had just gone over the summary for your newest assignment with alhaitham, who was dear enough to sit down in the house of daena and go over it with you. the assignment itself wasn’t particularly challenging, yet it didn't align with your interest in study. that was the main reason you asked your boyfriend to assist in your studies. yet from when you'd started your explanation to the time it took you to lift your head from the pages in your lap, you found your boyfriend slumped in his chair, as soft snores left his mouth.

you’re pretty confident in thinking that your voice wasn’t that boring, well, at least not to the greatness of making the acting grand sage alhaitham fall asleep. it was either that or the shiny new title had taken its toll on alhaitham much harder than you had anticipated. but being sure of alhaitham’s abilities, you'd doubt that your boyfriend wouldn’t let something like that beat him so easily. however, rather than dwelling on it, you put the pile of papers back down onto the table you were sitting on before settling back onto the table.

with alhaitham, defenceless under your regard, you decide to use every moment to further soak his features into your brain. his arms laying on both armrests as his head leaned off to the left. shamelessly watching from above as he bathed in the afternoon sunlight, which only seemed to enhance his glowing complexion. even after the longest time, you are still awestruck at how gorgeous and lovely he is. however, you were only able to truly appreciate this after he let go of his tight guard.

but still, there isn’t a single day you don’t remind yourself of it, not that you have to. it feels like you can’t pull your eyes away, stuck in a trance with him as your man focal point. that was, until you realise you've blown your horribly disguised cover for how sickeningly infatuated you are with him. alhaitham, now staring at you with both a surprised and an embarrassed expression on his face, his ears starting to redden before his eyes close again.

pulling yourself out of your daze, you slowly bring your hand to his cheek, softly caressing it. his skin soft as you feel your lover lean into your touch. dragging your thumb across his face as you watch his eyelashes fluttering, his eyes still shut. you notice a small smile sprawled across his lips, the upwards tug on alhaitham’s lips becoming apparent.

“i know you’re awake, pretty boy,” you tease, using your fingertips to gently move his hair covering his eyes.

alhaitham chuckles as he opens his eyes, crimson red and green, gazing into you. you look at him as he places his hand on top of yours, caging your hand on his face. the action feeling both needy and almost desperate. your boyfriend laughing inwardly before looking you in the eyes.

“let me indulge for a bit longer, just this once, habibti.”

❈ CYNO

the title ‘general mahamatra’ is a hefty title to uphold, many become overwhelmed by the responsibility, therefore, avoiding the title as a goal. yet cyno maintains it, and he does it well. so much so that it occasionally stresses you that your boyfriend doesn’t rest enough and might become overworked. albeit, a habit to visit him while he's working just to make sure he's okay. so when you come across him fast asleep in his office, you can’t help but sigh in relief, glad he’s resting up for once. sumeru’s general mahamatra deserves to slack off every once and a while, no? this is deeming that he does a vast majority of sumeru’s upkeeping.

quickly and quietly, you slip through the small gap between the wall and the door, the door slightly squeaking as it brushes against your chest before you get through. you sigh once you're inside and swiftly shut the door to cyno's office. observing your, your view the few nicely potted plants and the tall bookshelves in the back with hundreds of untouched books. and the centrepiece to complete; cyno’s desk, with him, slouched in his chair, arms crossed and his hat still on.

you don’t understand why the akademiya even bothered giving him an office. cyno is supposed outside for almost all of the day, the exception being when he comes back to report things that have happened throughout his duties. he enjoys being outdoors and in action. him, being inside the office defeats the purpose of being a matra. although it is a good place to cool down when the time is presented.

speaking of which, you’re feeling a bit brave today, enough so that you’ve chosen to approach the unconscious general. your body shifting around objects until you're behind his desk, standing beside his figure. keeping a close eye on him in case of any sign of consciousness.

unsurprisingly and one would debate, fortunately(me), you got distracted, your boyfriend being the distractant. spacing out, your only focus was cyno’s sleeping figure whose body moved up and down as he breathed. his lightly tanned skin putting you in a trance, remembering how you reminded him to moisturise for the thousandth time. and his sweet, sweet-toned abs that others swoon over while you are fortuitous enough to rest your head on every night whenever you two are home together relaxing.

it was only after a good five minutes of just marvelling at his abs do you decide to do the next big thing. take off his hat. the hat which was ever so kindly shadowing his facial features. slowly reaching out with your hand, grasping the thing in your hand before gently lifting off your boyfriend's hat.

“boo.”

cyno blatantly said, his monotone voice echoing off the patterned walls as well as your scream. his hat was surprisingly nowhere to be seen as it bounced onto the ground.

“archons, i think i died for a second. baby, that wasn’t funny,” you exclaimed.

“it was pretty funny,” he smiled, biting back a laugh.

“was not,” you mumbled, his arms welcoming you as you fell into his touch.

❈ KAVEH

you were just returning from work, the sun already setting as you arrived at your doorstep. today had been particularly tiring. while there was no problem at hand, your energy levels seemed unusually low. the only thing motivating you to finish well was your desire to go home, have a nice dinner and snuggle in bed with your boyfriend, kaveh, who often stays the night even if he didn’t get locked out of his shared home. even so, you found the man knocking at your door almost every two days, his keys suspiciously disappearing every time.

as this occurrence became a near routine, you decided to give kaveh the spare set of keys to your place. hoping that he would let himself in when you would work late and generally when you weren't available. although, when you first proposed the idea he was far from with it, saying he'll lose the keys like he does his own. it’s only when you dropped it in his hand, closed it up and held it promising to him that you wanted him to have it did he hesitantly agree.

and it's true, you do trust him, you've trusted him more than you ever have with someone. you trust him with the key to your home, not only because you love him but because your boyfriend has a kind heart. the kindest you've come to know and you couldn't dream of kaveh doing something to break your faith in him. besides, the interior of your home has never looked better, and it still feels like home despite the altercations.(fr)

speaking of which, you let out a loud sigh as you shut the front door behind you. kicking off your shoes as you announce your presence. however, you get no response. placing your things down, yelling out your lover's name this time, quietly listening for any signs of kaveh being here. but again nothing, making you think that you've been talking to the house the entire time instead of a person.

still not convinced, you search through all the rooms of your house until you catch a glimpse of blonde hair through the gap between the bedroom door. your eyes lighting up as you quickly walk closer, pushing the door open and walking in to see him sleeping sprawled out on top of the bedsheets. his back facing you as soft breathing filled your ears.

you've come to feel relieved whenever you see kaveh, his presence alone is enough to make your body relax naturally. your body unconsciously moves closer to him when he's nearby. you sigh as you sit beside his figure, the mattress sinking under your weight and the sheets rustling as your hands explore, eventually reaching his exposed back.

since the start of the relationship, you've gained a habit of running your hands across kaveh's skin, tracing shapes and letters into it. constantly drawing random words and shapes into any body part of his you had access to, obviously, if he let you. occasionally peppering kissing on the area as you doodle to your heart's content. as for this instance, your eye caught sight of his open back seeing as the perfect opportunity to trace the shoulder blade and draw little basic shapes.

kaveh secretly loves it. he loves that you make him feel special with your undivided attention solely on him, a smile appearing on his lips as he's under your gaze. he loves the drag of your fingertips against his skin, the warm touch calming him down. kaveh loves you as you draw stars into his sensitive skin, unbeknownst to the fact that he's awake as you whispering "i love you"s under your breath, loving that you secretly pine over him too.

❈ TIGHNARI

tighnari had been particularly worried about a certain deadline he had to meet. while he often does lectures at the akademiya, this specific class he’s been taking lectures for, hasn't been absorbing the lecture’s content as well as anticipated. thus, his need to edit the coursework in a way the amurta students would both understand and fascinate them.

although, you wouldn't imagine your boyfriend being so concerned. perhaps it's due to the lack of idea of how to teach or that the new method mightn't work either, yet he can’t seem to let it rest. sure, it is normal for professors to worry a healthy amount about their students’ studies yet he almost seems obsessed with it. it's the only thing that has come out of his mouth all week.

even as you two are doing reports of the forest’s impending health, he avoids talking about anything but the upcoming lecture. oh? you’re trying to fill out some unfinished paperwork—tighnari is talking his head off about the plans he has. even when you finally think that you'll be free of his chattering the man still manages to mention it when the two of you are lying in bed.

while you do enjoy listening to your boyfriend’s most obscure ramblings you'd very rarely hold him against it's becoming more than something he's interested in. observing it now, it's now borderline obsessive. so much so that you've decided to put some distance between the two of you for now, opting to take another forest ranger’s patrol of the forest. this was in hopes that it would help you clear your mind and start a new leaf before speaking to your lover again.

taking a deep, much-needed deep breath fills your lungs, letting your cheeks puff up before exhaling slowly. you shake your hands at your sides which seemed to be a nervous habit, and then push aside the leafy doors, calling out his name to announce your presence. however, to your surprise, you soon find him sound asleep, using a stack of papers as a pillow.

you gazed at him as his dark, silky locks of hair shined in the sun, his unreasonably, pale porcelain skin giving him a natural glow. the sight stopping you in your tracks for a few minutes just to admire his utterly cute face. yet the position tighnari was sitting in and the way your boyfriend was leaning over the desk seemed far from beneficial to both his posture and neck.

“nari, my love.” you hummed as you walked to his side.

you could only watch as your lover’s fluffy ears twitched in your direction due to the sweetness in your tone. yet you only hear a grumble and some squirming in his seat from the man.

“come on, hun.” you whisper as your left hand travels to his shoulder, your thumb rubbing back and forth into his skin.

tighnari lifts his head this time, his eyes barely open, hair sticking to his face and forehead only to see you looking with your gentle gaze he can never say no to.

“what time is it?” the man asks, rubbing his eyes and looking around.

your partner’s ears perk up when you giggle, smiling as he listens to your angelic voice, the sound always hitting his ears in the best way imaginable. his eyes lighting up and sparkling as soon as sees you smile.

“its afternoon now.” you reply, feeling him nuzzle into your touch when you run your free hand through his hair.

“why did you leave me for so long?”

“oh you know why.”

do not copy or repost any of my works.

@ miokki 2023

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ladylooch · 10 months

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Begin Again - [Anthony Beauvillier]

A/N: First off, thank you for requesting someone new! It always pushes me as a writer and I love how detailed this request is! It helped guide me to this achey, beautiful love story below. Second, thank you to the answers and DMs I received to help me learn more about Tito! It helped me get a clear vision of him as a character. Could not have done this with out you! Third, this has been a long time coming! Thank you for your patience. I hope you love it!

Word Count: 2.7k

A white hot heat has settled into the crook of your elbow as you stand behind your soon to be sister-in-law. Your brother is tearfully saying his vows to her. You should be crying. You should be focused on the words he is promising to help him uphold in times of trouble.

Instead, the leftover touch of Anthony Beauvillier haunts you.

How could you both have thought you could pretend to still be in love? Well, you weren’t pretending. But he was. The leaver. The “we need to talk” from three weeks ago. Those weren’t your words. The were his. And just like his touch, they haunt. In the middle of the night. When you’re on your way to work. When you picked him up from the airport and both agreed you would pretend to still be together. You both wanted your brother to be happy. Anthony is his childhood best friend and he’d kill Tito if he knew what had happened in New York three weeks ago.

But what did happen? You were barely sure yourself.

All you knew is being with Anthony used to be so easy. Then it became unstable and lit on fire. Then it was at your feet in ruins before you could even grab the extinguisher to try to save it. Personally, you want to blame Lou Lamoriello. Isn’t it his fault for trading your ex boyfriend? Because everything was difficult after Anthony was traded.

And when the season ended, those difficulties followed you around. What were you supposed to do? He didn’t seem to want you with him in Vancouver. Even when you visited, he was distant and distracted. This man that you once knew like your favorite shirt because a stranger.

He pulled the plug. He asked for space. You gave it to him. He went back home. You stayed in New York in the apartment he had until September.

“You can stay as long as you need.” He had told you, not looking at your face because he couldn’t stand the tears glistening down your cheeks in the afternoon sun.

“I don’t want to stay here.” You had bubbled through those tears. He nods.

“Until you get back from home then.” He gives a curt nod, licking his lips. “I’m here for a couple more days to tie up some things.” Like us? You can’t help but cry harder. “Mat said I could stay with him.” Your heart breaks all over again. Mat Barzal already knew? God, that makes it so real.

“You deserve so much better.” His heartbreaking whisper were the last words before he shut the door to leave.

But you didn’t want better. You wanted him.

Now here he was, standing across the other side of the aisle while your brother kissed his new bride. You come too, pulling your gaze away from Anthony to focus back on the love. You cheer with the rest of the crowd, then hand your new sister-in-law her gorgeous bouquet of white roses. Your smile is fake, you can feel it in the tight pinching of your cheeks. But it passes well enough.

You haven’t even recovered from his touch when you first walked down the aisle together, now his haunting is coming for your other arm. You smile, like you’re so sickeningly in love with each other. Anthony smiles back too. Only you notice it doesn’t reach his eyes. Then you turn back towards the aisle where the photographer is taking pictures.

You pray the tears in your eyes pass as happy as you walk by your parents.

- - -

Without alcohol, this night would have gone to shit immediately after the ceremony. Your new sister-in-law greeted you with her first words being “You and Tito are next!” You swayed in her arms at the painful reality of how untrue that is going to be. Anthony heard it too and he reached out to you for a moment, squeezing your hand in acknowledgement. You had ripped your hand away, unable to stand his comfort when he was the one who did this to you.

But then your good friend vodka found it’s way into your cup. And you forgot. Anthony found beer. And the alcohol took the painful edge off everything. You started talking. You laughed together. You told embarrassing stories of your brother together. It felt like normal and you chased that buzz with drink after drink until you found yourself in the bathroom, looking at your drunk reflection.

What are you doing, you wonder to yourself.

You watch your teeth tuck your bottom lip into your mouth. You swallow shakily, reaching for your glass and downing the rest of your drink too.

This is going to hurt you in the morning. Are your inner thoughts about the alcohol or him?

Either way, you brush those thoughts to the side. It feels so good to pretend, to step out of the crunching heartache even if it is only for a few hours. You get to live in this other world, the one you wish you still had, where it makes sense when he brushes his fingers along your shoulder with his hand draped across the back of your chair. You shiver now in the cool bathroom, like he’s right there with you still, touching you, soothing your broken heart temporarily.

Your heels clack against the tile as you leave the bathroom, coming face to face with Anthony. You pull in a deep breath that raises your shoulders. He smiles gently, then glances over his shoulder to see if anyone is around. You’re alone.

“Are you doing okay?” His face is sincere, concerned. You refuse to believe it is pity.

“Yeah. Great!” You respond brightly.

“Okay. Um, they are insisting on playing our song.” You freeze. “I tried to play it off, but your brother is not listening. They literally have the DJ ready for the second we walk in.” If you never heard "My Best Friend” by Tim McGraw ever again, it would be too soon. You’re not sure you can do this. “I’m so sorry. This was dumb.” He whispers, seeing the way your face shatters at the mere thought of dancing with him to this song with what you are now. The song you always knew would be your first dance song.

“Yeah, but we are committed.”

“Maybe we should just tell them. Stop the whole thing…” The last thing you want to do is have the stabbing pain of heartbreak return. So your drunken self pushes you right along to just go with it a little longer.

“No, let’s tell them tomorrow. Like we planned.” He nods, looking over his shoulder at the large event space that seemingly awaits for us. “What do you want to do?”

“Dance with you one more time.” You respond quietly. Your fingers meet his, lacing together in the way you always appreciated- with perfect weight and grip. Anthony stares back at you, his gorgeous blue eyes drinking in your beautiful face. You think, for a moment, that he might lean in towards your face. His free fingers come to tuck a stray curl behind your ear. Then he cups your cheek for a moment before leading you into the room.

The gentle stroking of guitar strings greets you both immediately. You smile to your family who is eagerly watching your approach.

“I hope y’all aren’t going to make us dance alone.” You tease easily. Anthony looks at you in awe as he leads you into his body to begin to sway back and forth.

“You’re so good at this.”

“Being an NHL girlfriend meant a lot of pretending.” He nods, knowing all the ways you’ve stood by his side the last few years, even if it was difficult for you with the spotlight.

“I’m sorry about that.”

“You were always worth it.” You murmur, tears in your eyes. Anthony sees them, frowning deeper. He tugs you into his body, encouraging your head to rest against his.

You feel every inch of his hand at the small of your back. Your eyes close as he uses it to pull you close. Then you both move together again like you have hundreds of times before. It’s almost like nothing is different. You lean your head into his, feeling the smoothness of his jaw against your temple. Your eyes closed as he sighs, turning his face into your hair. You can feel the inhale of him taking in your perfume. The one he picked out years ago on a shopping spree in New York. A lifetime ago now.

I fall in love all over every time I look at you

I don't know where I'd be without you here with me

Something about this song makes his touch different. It’s more consuming. His finger prints press deeper into the exposed skin of your back. You breathe in the scent of him, wanting to memorize this memory no matter how much it will hurt later.

“Ant..” You murmur, feeling him shudder as he sucks in a deep breath. “Are you okay?”

“No. This all feels like a mistake.” He whispers back.

“I know. I miss you.” Your respond.

Life with you makes perfect sense, Tim McGraw sings as Anthony’s lips brush against your cheek.

“You look so beautiful tonight. Took my breath away when I saw you earlier.” His hand presses you tighter more. You turn your face towards his. He makes the move, brushing his lips against yours, testing your acceptance. Your face crumples as you place your hand on his cheek.

“Kiss me like this is it.” He doesn’t hesitate, bringing your faces together again. Every stroke of his lips cracks any repair that’s been done to your heart. But fuck, it feels so worth it to have this with him. His tongue strokes against your bottom lip, then nudges between your teeth, melding with yours.

“Baby.” He whispers, briefly pulling away for air.

It feels so easy right now. Drunk on vodka and champagne with a room saturated by how easy it is to be in love when both people try. All the struggles, the distance, the ache, the impermeable walls are non-existent. So is the reality that he is no longer yours.

Because he doesn’t kiss you like it’s the last time. He kisses you like this it’s all beginning again.

“I’m leaving for Vancouver tomorrow. Come with me? I don’t want this to be it. I don’t want to give up on us. I want to try again. Harder. The way you deserve.” His nose rests to the side of yours. His fingertips press into the back of your head, ruining the remaining, lopsided curls. You can still taste the beer from his mouth in yours.

“How about you tell me that tomorrow morning? When it isn’t like this…” He sighs, stepping back, looking rejected. “And I’ll get on that plane with you.” You drunkenly agree. He looks down at your face, buzzed off beer, with slightly blood shot eyes. He closes his eyes as the song fades out.

“Give it up for Y/N and Anthony!!! The next couple to get married!” The DJ bellows.

You and Anthony stare back at each other, unmoving and unable to pretend any more.

“You are right. When it isn’t like this… I will go.” He steps backwards. It feels familiar. You startle, feeling tears prick your eyes at his sudden retreat. The walls close in as he takes another step back.

“Ant.” You sound desperate, choking.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry for what I have done, mon amour. I’ll see you.” His fingers drop from yours as he turns.

You call out for him. But Anthony is already gone.

- - -

A knock on your hotel room door the next morning may as well be against your actual brain. You startle against the soft, white pillow case, looking down at the mascara residue left behind. Drunk you didn’t seem to care about taking all your make up off. Combine that with the tears you cried and the black, inky mess looks like a war zone. You rub at your face then slowly push the covers back. You assume it’s your mother coming to scold you for running off suddenly last night.

It’s not.

Outside, looking as delectable as ever, is Anthony. You stare at him through the peep hole, feeling frustrated and really hungover. He holds two iced coffees in his hand and a brown paper bag is pinched in the middle of his pinter and middle fingers. He raises his fist to knock again, but you open the door to stop him.

“Hi. You ready, beautiful?”

“Is that a joke?” You mumble, squinting against the light of the hallway.

“No, we gotta get going. You may want to shower though.” His eyes stay locked on yours. You reach up, coming away with black flakes from under your eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” You hiss at him, despite your pounding head and thick, dry tongue.

“But you said-“

“Anthony.” You grumble. “My mouth feels like a cotton ball. My head hurts so fucking bad I wanna rip it off. And you walked out last night without any explanation! I don’t care what I said when I was drunk off my 11th vodka soda of the night. You left. Again!”

“Yeah, I left, so I could sober up and do this.” He gestures to him outside the room. Then he hands you a cup of coffee and a croissant. “You know the best croissants go early here. I was waiting outside at 6 am for this.” He points to the logo for The Patisserie, your favorite place in your hometown. “I meant what I said last night. I don’t want this to be it. I want you to come with me today. I’m so sorry about how things ended and what I did to us, babe. I love you so much. It was never about that. It just got so hard; I was so lost, felt like I had lost everything I knew. I didn’t know what to do. Then you were slipping away from me too.”

Oh, how true that felt to you now. How you tried to hold on to him tighter but felt him slipping through your fingers. You had seen how much he was struggling. You didn’t know what to do and you had some blame to share in the distance that was created.

“Where would we go today?” You murmur.

“Vancouver. To find our new place.” You stare at him, the hangover clouding your brain but none of the shock on your features. Move to Vancouver with him? “You said tell me that in the morning and I’ll go. So here I am, telling you in the morning. Will you go with me? I’m sorry it took me so long to ask, but I can’t live without you.”

If words can truly heal, those did it for you.

You’re not even thinking, which is why you drop the coffee and the pastry at your feet, staining the carpet in the process as the cold liquid leaks out from the plastic cup. Your arms are around his neck, crashing his face down to yours. The kiss is beautiful, full of love and greedy need and wandering hands as he grips your ass to lift you into his arms.

You still have more to discuss, like why he gave up when things got hard, the way it hurt when he did what he did, and how you’ll both double down on the commitment this time because you know how awful life is without each other.

But in the meantime, a plane is leaving for Vancouver from Montreal in two hours and you’re going to be on it with Anthony Beauvillier.

#Anthony beauvillier x reader #NHL imagine #hockey writing #my writing #vancouver canucks #nhl fan fiction

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littleslithewhump · 2 months

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Day 18 – tickling

His body looks like a fucking pile of twigs. Just skeletal contours on the basement floor. He hasn’t moved since I set his shoulder. If it weren’t for the rise and fall of his chest, I might think the idiot had up and died on me.

I nudge him with my toe.

He wakes up, sluggish and dull. He makes his own eyelids look heavy. When he looks up at me, he barely seems to recognize what he’s seeing.

“Come on, pet,” I tell him. “Sit up.”

He struggles to even do that, hissing in pain as he puts weight on his newly fixed shoulder. It’s funny. It’s pathetic. It makes me want to fuck him. It makes me want to crush his throat with my boot.

I crouch beside him, grasping his swollen shoulder and shaking him lightly. He whines about it.

“You’re so tired, aren’t you?”

He nods.

“You know you’ve been bad, right? I give you a place to live, give you food, I even fucking wash you, and you try to run. You don’t remember who I am. You know I should keep punishing you, right?”

Tears leak out his eyes, and he swallows audibly. But he nods. I can hardly believe it. The self-obsessed prick broke down after only two weeks of harsh treatment. I knew it–I’d known all along he was weak.

“Look at you. Begging me to hurt you.”

A wet sob tears out his throat.

He still has metal manacles jangling around his wrists and ankles. I pull at one experimentally, testing his give, his submission. To me. He’s light and mobile as dandelion fluff.

“Pet. Know I’m kind to you. I’m as kind as I can be.”

He bobs his head again, eyes crystalline with fresh tears.

He doesn’t resist a bit as I scoop him up in my arms, carrying him up the stairs like my waifish betrothed. He’s shaking lightly, crying like a child, but I feel him cling to me. It’s almost sickeningly sweet. I want to tug on his hair and make him moan. I want to tear the fucker apart.

When I lay him on the bed, his eyelashes flutter.

“Soft, isn’t it, pet?”

“M..mhm,” he murmurs.

I pin his wrist into the cushion above his head, opening his body up to me. I trace my fingers up and down his ribs, thumb his hip bone. It makes him twitch, sensitive skin under my touch, covered in pretty bruises.

He’s so fucking fragile. I squeeze the soft part of his waist, which makes him jolt.

I tickle his armpits, along his ribs. He flinches and shudders, a confused giggle escaping him.

I lay down beside him, kissing his face, rumpling his hair in my hand, tugging it gently. He squirms, trying to reciprocate, I know. But too weak to manage it. It’s an intimacy I haven’t allowed him before.

“Thank me, pet,” I murmur to him.

He swallows again. “Thank…thank you.”

“Good boy.”

It’s more fun than I’d thought it would be, so I keep tickling him. Scratching him lightly with my nails, finding his sensitive spots, finding what makes him wiggle, hearing him laugh. When he tries to pull away, I hold him close, slinging an arm around his waist, pulling him flush against me.

I lick up the tears dribbling down his face, rubbing my fingers lightly on the sensitive inside of his thighs, making him open his legs for me, through a strained little giggle.

After stripping myself, coating my fingers in lube to prevent me from chafing, I push my fingers inside him. I squeeze his waist, holding him against me, which makes him moan and shudder breathlessly. It’s gorgeous; pleasure wrinkling up his brow. I push my cock inside, rocking into him steadily.

I hold his face in my hand, keeping his face tipped toward me, slapping gently when he tries to close his eyes. “Focus on me, sweetheart,” I whisper.

He cries the whole time, yes–but he begs prettily, begs for his release, for my release. For me.

Taglist:

@whumped-by-glitter

#july double trouble #julydoubletrouble #msg to add to tag list!#non-con #today's prompt was challenging #hope it's still interesting!

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steveharringtonat3am · 2 years

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Kinktober day 2: Vanilla

kinktober masterlist!!

pairing: eddie munson/ fem!reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: romantic eddie, penetrative sex, sickeningly sweet fluff at the end

Having sex with Eddie was always incredible. There was never a dull moment during it. He loved going rough, fucking me hard and fast, biting me and gripping me as tight as possible. Eddie loved pushing my limits and I loved having them pushed.

But lately, I found myself wishing he was a bit softer sometimes. I always enjoyed the rough sex but I couldn’t help but wonder how good it would be if he was kinder.

Bringing it up was hard. When I had finally found the courage, he looked almost heartbroken at the idea that he had been hurting me. So I dropped the idea. I assured him that I loved the rough sex and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. We kissed and I figured the conversation was over.

When I open the door to Eddie’s trailer, the last thing I expected was candles lighting a pathway to his bedroom. There’s even a loose trail of rose petals. It was the total opposite of anything he had ever done for me, but I was already over the moon.

“Baby?” I call out into the trailer. I hear some shuffling, and then Eddie is standing outside his room. His shirt is off and I feel my mouth fill with saliva at the sight of his bare chest. His tattoo’s look amazing in this lighting.

“Hi sweetheart. Come over here, will you?” He beckons me forward and I walk along the rose petal path to him.

When I finally reach my boyfriend, I immediately hug him as tightly as possible.

“This is so nice, Ed.” I kiss his cheek as he rubs my back.

“We haven’t even gotten to the fun part!” He chuckles, my face buried in his neck. He clearly just showered, smelling like soap rather than his usual weed smell. It’s nice and it makes me reluctant to let go of him.

He starts to walk me into the bedroom while I continue to cling onto him. I can feel his smile the entire time and it makes me grin.

“Are you not even going to appreciate my hard work?” He complains and I finally pull off of him to look around the room.

There are a crazy amount of candles everywhere, thankfully unscented but still gorgeous. There’s a heart made out of rose petals on the bed. It’s so ridiculous and cheesy but it really is perfect.

“Care to fill me in on what this is for?” I face Eddie, wrapping my arms around his neck. His hands rest on my hips as he suddenly becomes nervous.

“Well you-you said you wanted to try some more…soft stuff. So I figured we could try it out tonight and see if you like it?” He presses a gentle kiss to my lips.

“Okay…just promise to let me know if you like it too? We don’t have to do it if you don’t like it.” I kiss his cheek and he smiles, cupping my face in his large hands. His rings are cool against my cheeks.

“I will. Now get undressed and lay down for me, okay angel?” His voice is so soft I would do anything he said as long as he kept looking at me like that. I get undressed slowly, Eddie’s hands roaming my body as I do so. He loves pretending to help, even if we both know he’s not.

I lay back on the bed when I naked, watching as Eddie slowly undresses. He takes his time and I have a strong urge to complain but I manage to hold it in. When he’s finally naked, he joins me on the bed. But instead of laying in between my legs, he lays down next to me, propped up on his elbow to face me.

“What are you doing?” I turn to him and absentmindedly reach over to play with his hair. Eddie grins, wrapping an arm around my waist to pull me closer. Our chests are practically touching. His hand drags down to my thigh, gripping it to sling it over his waist. His cock is so close to my soaking entrance.

“Just wanted to see you. I want you nice and close tonight, m’kay?” His lips press against my nose so soft I barely feel it.

“Whatever you want, Ed.” I push my hips closer to him, my desperation so clear on my face. Without saying a word, Eddie positions his cock at my entrance and slowly pushes in.

My eyes roll back as his fat tip stretches me. He always felt so good. Normally, he would give me a minute or two to adjust before pounding into my at full speed. But tonight, he takes his time.

His hips move so slow as he inches in. His hand rests on my back, the up and down movements relaxing me even further.

When his cock is finally buried fully inside me, he stops to hold me closer. I cradle his head and a small tinge of worry buries itself in my gut.

“You okay, Ed?” I kiss his temple and he pulls away for a second to look at me.

“I couldn’t be better. Just…never realized sex could be like this. Feels so much more…” He trails off, looking for the best word to fit this situation.

“Intimate?” My voice is barely above a whisper. The peace is too perfect to ruin with noise. He hums in agreement. Eddie’s hips are shallowly thrusting into me, almost lazily. It feels so soothing, the pleasure leaving me feeling floaty as it ebbs through me.

“Eddie…feels so good.” I let my hands wander over his bare chest. I press a few kisses to his tattoos and he hums happily.

“I love being this close to you.” He mumbles, hips starting to move a little faster. The pleasure is starting to build in my stomach and I weakly grind against him.

“We can sleep like this tonight…” I feel high off pleasure, gently biting onto his shoulder. He lets his hips press flush against mine. I feel so warm and floaty.

“Want you to cum for me baby.” Eddie’s voice sounds so far away and yet he’s so close I barely understand where I end and he begins.

“Okay Eddie.” My orgasm washes over me with one more thrust of his hips. It’s not the strongest I’ve ever had, but so mind-numbing that I nearly fall asleep.

“God…” I whisper into his hair. I can feel his cum buried deep inside me. The pure feeling of love cocoons me like a warm blanket. Burying myself deeper into Eddie’s embrace, I sigh happily.

“Goodnight, my love,” His voice breaks through my trance, sending another wave of happiness through me, “Sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight, Eddie. I love you.”

“I love you more.”

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #stranger things 4 #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things blurb

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acourtofthought · 2 years

Note

A certain breed saying Gwyn is ugly yet Nesta says her beauty can rival that of Merrill and Mor (THEE baddest bitch in Prythian) 💀

Same thing with Lucien, like we don’t have everyone and their mother fanning themselves when he’s around. Like father, like son!

There’s gonna be some screaming, crying and throwing up when Az and Elain get with their respective Vanserra babes.

Those comments right there show you how juvenile certain people have become over these ships.

A. It is CANON that Gwyn was pretty even from the start. It is also Canon that Nesta found her even more stunning after Gwyn found some confidence.

B. What SJM female character has ever not been gorgeous? Ianthe was extremely attractive. Even Amarantha was "lovely". Mor was originally the most beautiful female Feyre had ever seen, Elain had always been the prettiest but now she can bring Kings to their knees, Nesta is devastating, Vassa has stunningly beautiful eyes, and Viviane has either a sister or twin who was described as stunningly beautiful, Merrill, etc etc!! And that's just the ACOTAR world, I'm not even touching on Bryce and how literally every male wants her 😂. These are "High" Fae who based on most interpretations in media are ethereal and attractive.

C. Even if for some reason Gwyn was noted as less attractive than your usual Fae (which she's not), why would that even be something to point out? Why does that matter? That somehow makes it impossible for her to be with a "pretty" Male?

In the end, it really doesn't matter what Cassian's, Nesta's, etc opinion of Gwyns looks are, or even a readers opinion of her looks.

None of the other characters really remark on Feyre's physical beauty yet Rhysand, one of the most attractive Males in Prythian, finds her to be the most beautiful female he's ever seen.

After Nesta and Cassian fall in love, they remark on how the other is the most beautiful thing they'd ever seen.

Lucien couldn't breathe because Elain was the most beautiful female he'd ever seen.

Azriel was attracted to Elain, E/riels claim love, yet he never claimed she was the most beautiful female he'd ever seen even seen. He calls her "beautiful" but so does everyone. He made no special remark to her appearance that can't be said of every other character.

In the end, when Azriel finally claims a female as the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, it's going to be in reference to Gwyn. Maybe he'll make a comment about how he once saw Mor that way (as Lucien once thought it of Jesminda before meeting Elain) but by the end, Gwyn will hold that title for Az and that's not going to change just because an Anti feels the need to to convince themselves that she's not attractive.

As a side note, the "prettiest" of the sisters with the "prettiest" of the brothers is sickeningly cliche. Give me the "prettiest" of the sisters with the handsome Fae who has a wicked slashing scar down his face. Give me a golden brown haired Archeron with a red haired mate rather than yet ANOTHER golden brown haired Archeron with a black haired Bat Boy. Give me the Archeron who struggled the most with letting go of her humanity with the most Fae looking Male out of the group, what with his pointed ears, long hair, and magic eye.

#pro gwynriel #gwynriel #elucien #anti e/riel

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tokuteasings · 2 years

Text

but I don’t like sharin’ my man

Seeing as both Emu and Yanma tied in that poll I made...I may have to write about yanma...idk what do yall think? I know I said I’m taking a break but like, listen, Hiroki Iijima is so beautifl it hurts

Warnings: Im so sorry because this is so self-indulgent and its VERY nsfw so uh...yeah. Reader is GN but topping, bottom!Emu, he’s tied up because yes, overstim,, orgasm denial, edging, Emu begging...yeah the whole thingy.

Emu is gorgeous, picture perfect perhaps.

Of course he is. You see him every day, he is your beloved, and you are treated to his visage every time you wake up.

Unfortunately, others are treated to his beauty as well.

You hated to be jealous even, hated how this little green monster would just well up inside of you and chew you up from the inside out. It’s normal, yes, but disgusting.

It’s acidic, bile that builds up and up and burns you and you hated it.

But sometimes, this can be fruitful...or at least you hope it is.

Because he’s under your touch right this moment, whining, whimpering, craving, crying, and begging.

Your lips flutter against the tip of his cock, hard, red, leaking with delicious little ichor that you cannot help but sip like wine. You hold your thumb at the base of it, cackling to yourself as that pressure builds and builds-

Your name dribbles out from his lips, barely heard above that little whisper. You look up to see his face flushed, brightest of reds, crimson hugging his wrists as a pair of jeweled bangles and his dress shirt open - his chest is covered in little welts, his neck adorned with a necklace of your design.

“Hm?” you question, humming this sickeningly sweet little chord. “What’s wrong, Emu?” you tap, tap, tap your finger against his length once again; it twitches into your embrace, a flower towards the sun, and you relish in it. “Go on,” you murmur gently, again kissing the tip.

Emu whines and bucks his hips towards your awaiting mouth, tears are halfway dripping down his face and his lips parted in this half broken prayer for you.

He’s beautiful even now, perhaps even more so.

“L-Let me cum...please.”

“Then say it.” you answer him in return, thumbing the tip once again and stroking it with renewed vigor before stopping altogether. You smirk as his little whine, wanton and loud. “Go on, you can do it.”

“I’m yours.” Emu is staring into your eyes now, adoration and love within these orbs and valleys that show nothing but your reflection. “I’ll always be yours, so please, pleaseplease-”

You chuckle as your mouth embraces his cock, a howl of a gasp leaving his lips as he murmurs praises, gratefulness and it only fuels you.

No one else is to have this image of him.

Flushed, begging, pleading, red in the body and eyes, his heart swelling three times his size and his cock twitching and utterly lavished upon.

Only you.

He is yours.

And no one else’s.

#hojo emu #kamen rider #kamen rider imagine #kamen rider ex aid #kamen rider x reader #thirsty thots #taiga you lucky bastard LET ME SLAP EMU'S ASS-#so uh taiga how did it feel-#idk where the FUCK THIS CAME FROM

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mrspellcaster · 2 years

Text

BLUE LIGHT - Steve Harrington x gn bestfriend !reader

summary: reader gets Steve a special gift at a party, what follows is sickeningly sweet , word count: 1.5k

warnings: no spoilers for st 4!!! marijuana usage, party setting, soft Steve, lovesick reader, reader is so adored, high reader and steve, sweet fluffy fluff, kinda sad if you squint and look at it too closely but happy ending. grammar is probably not perfect if that bothers you!

a/n: i havent written anything like this in a while, please be patient and kind. this fic (in my brain) is reminiscent of a cigarettes after sex song, like sweet and kinda sad but still lovely. i adore Steve and this is basically the fictional situation i’ve been imagining to go to sleep. i hope you enjoy :)

Steve is leaning up against the wall in Tommy’s living room, figure stretched too comfortable to pertain to his growing sourness.

The room is bathed in blue light, and maybe more noticeably tonight it’s an ocean of buzzing teenagers. All dancing to some velvety song they don’t know the words too; but no one can ever seem to stop moving. It’s summer, the first week. It always feels the hottest, too warm to move; still everyone finds their way into each other’s basement or backyard or home. No one willing to waste a hot summer night such as this one.

There is a lukewarm beer in Steves hand, his hip cocked, and he seems taller than usual. He picked it out of a cooler when he arrived about half an hour earlier, but the many bodies make the room more humid than it should be. He’s taken five sips. Steve’s eyes have been scanning the room for just long enough he’s frowning, still unable to find what he’s been looking for.

You’re weaving your way through the sea of bodies that seem to move in an impossible rhythm with the music. But your smiling and an even wider grin spreads across your lips when you make eye contact with Steve through the crowd. A mirror one starts on his face, nonetheless as you finally reach him he feigns annoyance.

You always forget how it feels to be close to him, and it’s never gotten old. A familiar burning, familiar heat.

Steve leans in so you can hear him over the music. “We got here.” A pause as he dramatically checks his watch “36 minutes ago! My surprise better be pretty fucking amazing sweetheart.”

You feel like your melting. Dizzy in a way the heat can’t explain. But your still smiling at him, that sweet fucking smile that makes him unable to keep pretending you could do anything that would upset him, that you could ever do anything wrong.

You’re both smiling, you and Steve. He’s staring down at you, now with unabashed adoration, and you wonder if the way he’s glowing can be explained by the light. How could anyone be so beautiful. You want to touch his face.

His eyebrows raise at your silence and he gets even closer, noting your slightly glassy eyes, the tiny hitch of your breath, how nice you smell, like ripe fruit or flowers or anything beautiful, and a little something greener.

He’s so close to you. There’s a burning in your chest and a warmth in his eyes that unnerves you. So much care, you wouldn’t know what to do with it.

A moment passes, then two. You blink, then quickly fumble to get something out of the pocket of your trousers. He watches you with the same intensity; you can’t help the slight shake of your hands.

You look back up at him, smile as bright as a thousand suns and hold out the better part of a slightly used blunt. For a second hushed laughter fills the small space between you. Then his eyes narrow, still glowing and still with sights set on you. “How come you got to smoke my present before me?” Steve tilts his stupid gorgeous head at you, waiting, expectingly.

You can’t meet his eyes. Steve is leaning over you, you think you want to get impossibly closer to him but instead you are lying to his chest. “Eddie said I smoke too much of his weed for free and I only had enough for this.” You’re speaking too quickly.

The warmth of his hand coming to turn your gaze back up at him shocks you, his big warm hand on your cheek, and in half a second your melting. Looking at Steve is easy, looking into Steve’s eyes is hard. He’s trying not to laugh, and the happiness you see in him is contagious. Of course he knows you’re lying. He knows you.

Knows your perfume down to its base scents. Knows the specific shade you like your nails painted. Knows your shoe size, and how many drinks it takes to get you to sing. Knows he’s past being jealous of most people who get to be around you because you’re undeniably alluring, magnetic. You’re beautiful and sweet and painfully so. Everybody knows it, Steve understands, recognizes, the desire, maybe the slight need to be close to you, sees it in himself.

“Okay,” You breathe out through your nose. “I just wanted to make sure the weed was good. Good enough for us- You.” You’re still smiling at him unconvincingly.

Steve, too smoothly, rolls his eyes and guides you outside with a hand on the back of your neck. You’re unnaturally still, and hoping he won’t notice. You do your best not to think about how big his hand is, how warm, and how safe you feel in his hold. You can’t help but lean back into him slightly and hope he can’t feel you shiver.

The night air makes your shoulders slump, skin still burning. Steve sighs after placing you in-front of him but he’s less than annoyed, could never be bothered with you, “And you just always have to do that don’t you, trouble.”

You bump your hip with his and grab your lighter from your pocket. He tries not to watch too carefully, watch the grace and practice your fingers move with. Watch the focus as you place it gently to your lips, where he’s sure it was just a few minutes ago.

He blinks and you’re holding it out to him. When he reaches out you pull back slightly with a small shake of your head, his hand drops and he swallows when he understands what you want. Steve watches as you tantalizingly hold the joint to his mouth, lets his lips press against your fingers gently, closes his eyes when he sees the dangerous look in yours. You on the other hand have no qualms with watching him and he feels it like lightning on his skin.

To Steve it feels like when he opens his eyes it’s all over all too soon but at the same time too many minutes of a silence and a tension too hazardous to deal with tangibly hung between you. You’re putting out the stub in the ashtray grabbing his hand and leading him back inside. He can’t help but think about how warm your hand is, how soft. Steve feels loose, and maybe like he wants to see how many times he can wrap his arms around you, wrap himself around you.

You’re crouching in-front of the green sofa, saying something softly to a half asleep mumbling robin, making sure her head is supported, asking if she needs anything.

Steve sits on the only open end of the couch, meets your eyes as you try to find a place for yourself with your people, raises a challenge, one he wants you to and at the same time is frightened you’ll meet.

Of course you bite. Just like he knew you would. His grin is cocky for a moment but then you are crowding over him and Steve doesn’t think he’s breathing.

You settle yourself into his lap with what you hope is little difficulty and just as soon nobody’s moving. The only sound is Robins soft snoring and too suddenly both of your short lived bravery is gone.

You can’t stop staring at each other. You think it’s sick how gorgeous Steve looks in this blue light, like a star, like he’s glowing. You wouldn’t be surprised if the moon had found a path through the bodies as you had done, just to shine light on him, just to shine for him.

You look like a dream, you can’t help but think, or rather breathe out loud judging by the slight shift you see in him, and even in this light you know his ears are red. But you can’t stop. You wanna blame your pooling love for him on the spliff like it was secretly a love potion or something like that but there was something undeniably genuine in the air that remained impossible to ignore.

And Steve, Steve feels like he’s flying. You’re so real and warm and beautiful on top of him. He wants to steal the words from your mouth because you look like a dream. Like an angel. Too good to be true. His eyes fall shut when he feels your hands come to hold his face and he’s certain he’s not breathing, that he’s died and went to heaven and he can’t find it in himself to mind.

And you’re tracing his face with your hands, each beauty mark receiving a kiss from your fingertips, the slope of his nose, his brow bone, the stupid perfect square of his jaw. He’s so warm under you. And you’ve wanted to do this for so long. Your fingers find the nape of his neck relishing in the soft sound he lets out when you start playing with his hair. You kiss the crown of his head, still slightly afraid maybe you’ll wake up in the morning to this moment revealed as a dream, and you hold him tighter.

The light is still blue. In the morning you will wake up, still right beside him. A puzzle piece clicked into place.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st fic #st #steve harrington is a menace #eddie munson #joe keery #joe keery fic #joe keery x reader #best friend reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine

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bratdesire · 4 years

Text

Your Dad, My Daddy

Pairing: Ukai Keishin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, age gap, older man/younger woman, barely legal, squirting, rough sex, daddy kink, alcohol mention, questionable ethics, d/s dynamics, overstimulation, degrading language, touch of subspace, unprotected sex, breeding kink, slight dubcon if you squint but it’s all consensual, Ukai’s dick is pierced, exhibitionism(?)

Genre: Smut, just so much smut

Word count: 9.4k

Author’s note: Here is my contribution to the new HQHQ collab!! You can find the masterlist right here! Big big thank you to @sempiternal-amour and @inaflashimagine for beta-ing this monster fic, ilysm <3 This is so incredibly self-indulgent, I even inserted my nickname ~for spice~. Anyways, enjoy my incoherent screaming uwu

Summary: When you go over to your friend’s house for a study session you don’t anticipate meeting her very attractive father, and you surely don’t anticipate the very same man fucking you over their couch.

“Hey, I apologize in advance for anything weird my dad says or does. You know how dads are,” Hitomi explains as she pulls into the driveway of her house.

It’s small but nice and well-manicured, situated in the cul de sac of a middle-class suburb.

“Dad, we’re here,” she shouts up the stairs, setting her keys on the small table next to the front door. Hitomi’s gaze drifts to the tall, dark haired man sitting at the kitchen table and your own gaze soon follows. “Oh, there you are.”

She quickly pecks the man on his cheek before walking over to the shiny silver fridge, pulling out a couple bottles of water. “Dad, this is Bunny, Bunny this is Dad,” she gestures between the two of you.

When her father glances up from his phone to give you a nod of acknowledgement, you’re taken aback by how handsome he is.

You can tell from the slight wrinkles around his lips and the crinkles by his eyes that he’s definitely a much older man, but other than that he’s flawless. The angle of his jaw is sharp but soft, lower face darkened by his five o’clock shadow. His chocolate brown eyes are complemented by plump, pink lips that would look even better swollen and shiny with saliva. Dark, shiny locks are gathered into a low ponytail and you wonder how they would feel fisted in your fingers. He’s gorgeous in a rugged, mature way that boys your age aren’t and could never hope to be.

Hitomi never told you her dad was hot but then again, why would she?

“Mr. Ukai, it’s nice to meet you,” you greet him.

He waves his hand in the air dismissively, “Ah, you can just call me Keishin. No need to be so formal.”

Hitomi mutters a frustrated “shit” under her breath and it takes you a few moments to tear your eyes away from the man in front of you.

“I left my textbook in the car, I have to go grab it,” she sighs then turns to her dad. “You, don’t scare off my friend, please.”

Keishin puts a hand on his heart, a falsely serious expression on his face. “I won’t, scout’s honor.”

She just rolls her eyes, exiting the kitchen the same way you entered. The front door slams shut, leaving you alone with your friend’s very hot dad.

Keishin looks up at you then quickly looks away, unsure how to interact with his daughter’s friends. “So is, uh, Bunny your real name?” he asks, nervously rubbing the back of his head.

Leaning against the table he’s seated at, you fold your arms across your chest, fully aware of how low cut your top is. You don’t miss the way his eyes briefly flicker down to your cleavage then back up to your face. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I… I’m just trying to make conversation,” he laughs nervously.

“Hm, well, the short answer is no. You’ll have to get to know me a bit better before I give you the long answer.”

He snorts, pushing his chair back and rising to his full height. “What gave you the confidence to speak like this to your elders?”

Taking a step towards him, you twirl a piece of hair around your finger and shyly peer up at him through your lashes. “I don’t know, but maybe you can teach me how to behave.”

A light blush colors his cheeks and his eyes widen with surprise. “I-I don’t know what you’re implying, but it’s not... appropriate,” he stutters, taking a step backwards to try to put some distance between you.

You sidle up to him, reaching out a hand to caress his well-muscled arm. When he makes no move to stop your petting, you bite your lip and get on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Who said we had to be appropriate?”

His mouth is slightly agape, lips moving every so often, as if he wants to say something but doesn’t. “I—” he starts.

The sound of the front door slamming open makes you both jump apart, trying to appear as casual as possible.

“I got it! We can go study now,” Hitomi proclaims, waving the book around in her hands. She glances at you, then at her father and notices the way you’re completely turned away from each other. “Oh my God, Dad, what did you do?” she groans.

He holds up both hands in surrender, shaking his head emphatically. “I didn’t do anything! Why do you always think I did something?”

Your friend strides over to lightly punch his shoulder, a disapproving but loving expression on her face. “Because you’re weird and lame. Besides, between you and Bunny, I’m always going to assume that you’re the guilty party.”

You find yourself chuckling at their banter, touched by how close they are. It’s evident that Hitomi and Keishin care a lot about each other, regardless of how much they tease each other and guilt twists in your gut when you remind yourself that you were flirting with him. She likely wouldn’t forgive you for trying to sleep with her dad and it would cause a great deal of damage to their relationship, possibly beyond repair if she knew he was into girls her age. To make matters worse, you’re two years her junior. What man would sleep with a girl younger than his daughter?

But your morals are tossed right out the window when you take in the sight of Keishin’s radiant smile—all straight, white teeth and eyes that shine like pools of dark honey. It’s in that moment that you decide you’re going to seduce that man if it’s the last thing you do.

Sorry, Hitomi. Kind of.

---

“Okay, so L-Tyrosine is one of the twenty amino acids used by the body to synthesize proteins. It is also an aromatic amino acid derived from phenylalanine by hydroxylation in the para position—oof!” Hitomi’s droning is cut off by the pillow you send hurtling towards her head.

You sit up on her bed, squealing obnoxiously as you stretch. “Hitomi, I love you, but please shut up. My brain is melting. We’ve been at this for three hours now, can we take a break?”

She closes the textbook in her lap and pushes it to the edge of her desk. “Fine, fine. We can take a twenty minute break, but we have to go right back to studying because finals are this week and I cannot afford to fail,” your friend warns, despite how she whips out her phone at lightning speed.

Picking at a stray thread on the comforter, you gently try to get her attention, “Hey, Tomi?”

“Hm?” she responds, barely glancing up from the video she’s watching.

You’re not sure how to broach the subject, but you’ve never been one to beat around the bush so you just come right out and say it. “Has anyone told you your dad’s kinda hot?”

That makes her stop, her head jerking up from her phone at lightning speed. “What!? That old geezer?” She sounds dumbfounded, incredulous at the prospect that someone would be interested in her father.

“Yeah girl, he’s a total DILF,” you confess, making a little fanning motion with your hand like you’re burning up inside just thinking about him, and it’s not that far from the truth.

Hitomi makes no effort to hide her feelings, disgust clearly evident in her delicate features. “Ew! You have to be joking. Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not joking! He’s really sexy,” you muse dreamily.

She claps both hands over her ears, yelling at the top of her lungs to drown you out. “I never want to hear you say that my old man is ‘sexy’ ever again!”

You childishly stick your tongue out at her. “Hey! I’m just speaking the truth. You have to have had friends say the same thing.”

Removing her hands from her ears, she brings one up to stroke her chin, seemingly deep in thought. “Now that I think about it, back in high school my friends were a lot more enthusiastic about coming over once they met my father.”

You feel vindicated by her personal testimony, even if she thinks you’re gross. “See? I’m not the only one who finds your dad ridiculously attractive.”

Hitomi gags dramatically as if she’s going to puke and judging by the look on her face, she just might. “Please, no more, I’m begging you.”

“Fine, fine I’ll stop, but don’t act surprised when I become your new stepmom,” you tease, wiggling your eyebrows at her.

“You’re younger than me, don’t even joke about that,” she shudders in horror. “Okay, with that we need to get back to studying amino acids and proteins.”

“Whatever you say, future stepdaughter.” You muster your best motherly voice, sickeningly sweet and a touch passive aggressive.

This time, it’s Hitomi’s turn to throw a pillow at you.

---

Since the day you met Keishin, you haven’t been able to get him off your mind. Even when you’re in class trying to learn about the sodium-potassium pump, you find your thoughts drifting to his hands, his lips, him. He’s simply become too distracting to ignore.

More times than you care to admit, you’ve fucked yourself with your fingers to thoughts of how his fingers would feel pumping inside you. You fantasize about how his hand would feel around your neck, squeezing with just enough pressure to make your vision hazy. His name is always on the tip of your tongue when you orgasm and when you finally let yourself moan out ‘Keishin,’ you know enough is enough. A man his age has to know exactly how to make a woman scream and writhe in pleasure, but you need to experience it for yourself or you’ll die trying.

You’re not oblivious to the way he looks at you with hunger and longing in his eyes, you know he wants you too and you’re not above using dirty tricks to show him just how much you want him.

If he’s too proud, too noble to give in to his urges, you’ll just have to break him. His resolve may be strong, but yours is stronger.

Your efforts begin innocently enough, gently probing him for more information about himself so you can get to know him better.

“I’ve noticed you don’t wear a ring. Is there a Mrs. Ukai in the picture?” you ask innocently.

Keishin clears his throat a bit too loudly, refusing to meet your questioning gaze. “Nah. It’s just me and Tomi, always has been.”

“Any… future Mrs. Ukai in the picture?”

The corners of his lips twitch slightly, the barest of smiles tugging at his handsome features. “Can’t say there is. Between the store and coaching volleyball, I don’t really have the time to date.”

You nod and make a noise of acknowledgement, relieved by the confirmation that he is in fact very, very single. You’re a lot of things, but you’re not a homewrecker.

On another occasion, you’re seated on their plush leather couch and Keishin’s in the well-worn La-Z-Boy recliner to your left. You’re watching some Adam Sandler movie on Netflix, but it’s paused while Hitomi is in the bathroom.

You take your alone time together as an opportunity to question him more, toeing the line of what would be considered proper. “So, Keishin, how old are you? I know Tomi’s twenty-one so you must be…” you trail off, hoping he’ll humor you.

He takes a swig of the beer in his hand and your eyes instinctively flicker down to watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Old.”

You roll your eyes and prop your chin up on your hand, readjusting your position on the couch so you’re leaning closer to him. “Obviously, but just how old?”

“Why do you want to know so badly?” he asks, head tilted and a well-groomed eyebrow lifted questioningly.

“I was just wondering if you’re older than my dad,” you tease.

His shoulders shake slightly as he chuckles, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’m forty-four. Do I have him beat?”

“He’s forty-two, so just barely.” Your steady, unwavering eyes lock onto his own, which are glassy and unfocused from the alcohol. When he brings the bottle to his lips once more, you nonchalantly add, “Maybe I should call you Daddy instead.”

Keishin coughs and sputters in surprise, causing him to choke on his beverage and a spray of sticky beer splatters across your face.

Apologies tumble out of his mouth as soon as he realizes that your cheeks and hair are dripping with the craft IPA he was drinking. “I-I’m so sorry! I’ll get you a towel,” he blurts, shooting up from his chair.

In his panic and embarrassment, he rushes toward the linen closet and you can’t help the giggles that escape your mouth at how uncoordinated he is, now several drinks in. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not that big of a deal,” you reassure him, wiping your face with the back of your hand for emphasis.

He returns from the rummaging around the hall closet, a dark blue towel in his hand, which he offers to you with a nod of his head.

No matter your protests and assurances that you’re fine, Keishin is even more insistent in offering you the towel to clean yourself up. When you refuse to take the towel from him, he kneels down next to you and leans in to dab at the foamy liquid that has soaked into your hair.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his fingers on your jaw and you almost squeak at his close proximity. He hasn’t let you near him since your first encounter and now he’s right in front of you, so close that his breath curls around your cheeks, smelling of malted hops and the slightest hint of peppermint. You can map out the slight freckles on the bridge of his nose and each long, curled eyelash that brushes his cheeks each time he blinks.

He’s truly a beautiful man, all sharp angles and rough stubble and you can feel your cheeks warm when you realize that he’s right there. If you leaned forward just a little bit more, your noses would brush against each other.

A deep, rumbling voice interrupts your daydreaming. “Kid, are you even listening to me?”

You blink a couple times, coming to the realization that he’s been trying to talk to you for the last few minutes, but you were too busy admiring his beauty.

Keishin shakes his head as he leans back on his heels, using one hand to rub his face wearily. “As I was saying, you can’t just… say things like that. I know young girls sometimes have fantasies about older men like me, but I’m telling you now that it’ll only end badly,” he sighs. “I’m not a righteous man, I have my vices. God, do I have lots of them, and I don’t need another one.”

He mumbles the last sentence, barely loud enough for you to hear, despite how close you are.

Another one? Is he admitting that the attraction is mutual? You have to know, you just have to. Your body practically aches from how badly you want him.

“Keishin, I—” you start, reaching out to touch his arm, but he stands abruptly and quickly turns to shuffle away from the couch.

“This just isn’t a good idea, kid. Just forget about me, alright?” he says, his back to you. A tinge of regret and hesitation seeps into his words, as if he wants to take back everything he’s said.

After the beer incident, the man is even less receptive than he was before, making every effort to avoid being alone with you.

Even still, you’re not discouraged because he never outright rejected you. If he had, you would’ve stopped your pursuit weeks ago, but he only seems to be trying to maintain his composure as a righteous man.

Righteous men are wolves in sheep’s clothing, always putting on a facade so they can claim plausible deniability when they’re caught with their pants around their ankles. But no matter how honorable or virtuous a man tries to be, none of them can resist a wet, willing pussy laid out in front of them and Keishin is no exception.

That’s why you’ve shown up to their house the last few weeks in skirts far too short to be considered decent, flashing little peeks of your underwear each time you move too much or bend over too far. Each time you bend over to grab a pencil or a piece of paper off the floor, Keishin is always conveniently positioned behind you so he gets an eyeful of your pretty lace panties and the little dark spot where your wetness has soaked through the fabric.

After you retrieve your item from the ground, you look over your shoulder to make direct eye contact with him and say ‘oops,’ without a hint of regret in your voice. You revel in the clenching of his jaw and the way he exhales loud and heavy through his nose, frustration mounting each time you try to provoke him.

When your ass and clothed pussy are on display for him, you make sure to wiggle your hips a bit, an open invitation to fuck you the way you both want to. It never fails to elicit some sort of reaction from the older man, ranging from a few groans and a choked cough, to making a very hasty exit, a book or some other object held over the front of his jeans.

Without fail, Hitomi expresses her concern each time her father storms out of the room, red-faced and breathing heavily. He just waves her off, telling her he’s not feeling well, but you know the truth. He’s painfully hard, painfully hard from you, even if he doesn’t admit it.

Truthfully, if you weren’t trying to get him to fuck you so hard you can’t walk you would applaud his self-control and restraint. Even after weeks of teasing and provocation, the man refuses to give in to his desires.

That’s okay. If he’s not going to come to you, you’ll just have to take matters into your own hands.

----

It all reaches a tipping point when you’re unable to go home for winter break and Hitomi offers you their guest room to stay in for a few weeks.

Apparently she never asked her father for permission, if Keishin’s shocked, slightly panicked face when you walked through the door with your suitcase was any indication. When he tried to question Hitomi about whether or not it’s such a good idea for you to stay, she wasn’t having any of it and told him that you’re a friend in need.

Hitomi’s so sweet and caring that you feel a twinge of guilt for plotting to seduce her father in her house when she’s none the wiser. She just wanted to lend a helping hand by letting you stay with them, oblivious to your true plans, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

Now that you’re under the same roof, all you really want to do is ambush Keishin as soon as possible, but you have to plan around Hitomi’s schedule so you have bide your time. What’s the saying? Good things come to those who wait?

And wait you do. You wait for two whole weeks, in fact. But then the stars align so perfectly that some otherworldly force must be looking out for you.

Hitomi is gone to work and won’t be back until the middle of the night when her shift is over, while Keishin is home reviewing footage from his team’s latest game.

He told you he does this right before a big game so he can tell his players what they need to improve on and get in that last bit of refinement before the day of. When he clued you in on his strategy you just nodded and hummed, not really listening, mostly focused on ogling his muscles through his thin t-shirt.

Your nerves have been buzzing since you woke up this morning, sensing the heaviness in the air. You’re wearing your prettiest lace panties and its matching bra and frankly, you’re feeling pretty damn confident. You look good and you know you look good. If you were trying to seduce any guy your age, they’d drop their pants as soon as they got a little glimpse of your underwear, but Keishin’s not any guy your age. He needs a little convincing, a little push in the right direction, and you’ll be the one to help him.

You’ve flitted around the house all day, just trying to find the right moment to pounce.

Currently, Keishin is sitting in the living room watching the recording on the big flat screen in the living room. He looks preoccupied with taking notes on the notepad in his lap, but it’s now or never, you suppose.

Before you try to talk yourself out of it, you stride over to where he’s sitting and put your hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

“Hey. Did you need something? I’m kind of busy analyzing my team’s last game.”

Not wanting to lose your nerve, you wordlessly swing one leg over his, then the other, planting yourself firmly in his lap. His entire body goes ramrod stiff, hands jerking away from your body as if you’ve burned him.

“W-what do you think you’re doing?” he stutters, alarm evident in his voice.

When he makes no move to throw you off his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean into him, pressing your chest to his.

“What we both have been wanting to do since the day I met you,” you purr, lips barely brushing against the shell of his ear. He shivers when you gently nibble on his earlobe and your confidence only grows as you discover that he wants this just as much as you do.

“I d-don’t know what you’re talking about. This isn't right. I’m your friend’s father and I’m... old enough to be y-yours,” he mutters, running a hand through his already messy hair, conflicted with how to proceed.

You can’t tell whether he’s trying to convince you or himself, so you decide to give him a little encouragement.

Leaning back slightly, you run your hands down his chest and bite your lip. “Are we going to keep playing games or are you gonna fuck me? Because if not, I’ve got several guys back at college who—”

You’re cut off when Keishin’s hand wraps around your throat, the other braced against your back to pull you flush against him.

“You think your little stunts are cute, don’t you?” he growls, his minty breath washing over your face.

“What, you don’t think so, Daddy?” you pout, batting your eyelashes at him innocently.

His eyes flash with something hot and primal and you can feel the gush of wetness between your thighs. “I’m getting a little tired of them,” he growls.

“This,” you palm at the bulge straining against his pants, “Tells me otherwise, you know.”

The hand around your throat tightens, cutting off whatever bratty remark you were about to make. “I’ve had enough of you prancing around my home in tiny skirts and flashing me your panties when my daughter is around. It’s unbecoming.”

“Then t-teach me a lesson,” you gasp, struggling to speak with Keishin’s fingers so firmly wrapped around your throat.

The way he grins is downright sinful and it stokes the fire already raging inside you. “Careful what you wish for, little girl.”

With some manhandling on Keishin’s part, you’re shoved toward the couch then pulled back onto his lap, but this time you’re on your stomach and both your wrists are pinned behind your back.

“Before we go any further,” he starts, trailing his fingers down your spine and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “I have to ask… How old are you?”

You twist around to look him in the eyes, a defiant smirk on your face. “Old enough.” Your mischievous giggle is cut off by a swift, firm slap to your ass.

“Watch the lip, brat. I need a little more reassurance than that.”

“Since you’re just so concerned, I’m nineteen. Perfectly legal and more importantly, legally fuckable,” you say, punctuated by an enticing wiggle of your hips.

“Jesus, you’re two years younger than Tomi. What am I doing?” He seems lost in thought as the honorable side of him fights a losing battle against his baser, carnal instincts. Whatever reservations he has are thrown aside when you start to wiggle in his grasp, maneuvering yourself over his crotch to grind yourself against his hardness.

Keishin gathers your hair around his fist, harshly jerking your head so far backwards that your spine aches from the unnatural angle.

“Stop fucking squirming. You just don’t know how to behave, do you?” It’s phrased like a question, but he shoves two of his fingers in your mouth so you can’t respond.

You knew Keishin would be the perfect dom, but the ease with which he settles into the role makes your head spin and your insides throb. Latching onto his digits, you lick and suck like the good girl you are, coating them in saliva as he hums in appreciation.

“Foo wans tuh behav wen thith is wutt I ge fo bein ba?” you ask, garbled and muffled by the fingers massaging the back of your tongue.

A series of harder, heavier spanks make you squeal and squirm even more in his lap. He gently rubs his hand over your warm, stinging flesh as he speaks. “Such a troublemaker. Just what am I going to do with you, hm?” He tries to sound admonishing, but you can tell he’s smiling behind his words.

His hand leaves your ass, no doubt raised to spank you again, but before he can, you bite down on his fingers. Not too hard, just enough for him to jerk them out of your mouth. “You can do whatever you want to me, Daddy.”

You jolt when his thumb rubs against your pussy through your panties. They’re soaked with your slick, the material clinging to your skin uncomfortably. The barest touch has you gasping and pushing your hips back for more. You’re so sensitive from the teasing and you’re so turned on you just might pass out if you’re not filled up soon.

Keishin just laughs darkly at the pathetic humping of your hips and you can feel the rumbling in his chest. “This is what I love about girls your age. So sensitive…” He pulls your panties aside and gently eases a finger inside you, then another as you moan and shake in his lap. “And so reactive. I bet you’d cum just from me putting my cock inside this tight, wet cunt, wouldn’t you?”

He speaks with a hint of condescension that has you clenching around his digits, coating them in sticky, syrupy strands of your arousal as they pump in and out of you. You’d almost be embarrassed at how worked up you are if you had more self respect, but you don’t. All you can focus on is the way his fingertips curl into the little spongy spot inside you that makes you whine.

“Why don’t you try it and find out?” The challenge in your voice is severely dampened by how breathless and wrecked you are even though you haven’t really even done anything.

His fingers pull out of you with a lewd squelching sound and you can hear him suck them into his mouth. “You taste even better than I imagined, but I want to taste that sweet pussy of yours. Up, little girl.” He coaxes you from his lap and onto the couch so your back is nestled into the cushions.

Sweat is making hair stick to your forehead and you’re breathing so heavily you’d think you just ran a marathon, but Keishin is looking down at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world and it nearly steals what little breath you have left in your lungs.

Oxygen is the last thing on your mind when his lips slot themselves between yours, soft yet demanding as they suck and lick. The movement of his lips doesn’t falter when he pulls your shirt over your head to reveal your light pink bra. Keishin pulls back to kiss along your collarbones, neck, and chest, his teeth occasionally nipping your sensitive flesh and leaving goosebumps in their wake. He expertly removes your panties with one hand so you’re left in just your plaid skirt, exposing your heated flesh to the coolness of the living room.

You’re nearly naked but he’s wearing far too many clothes for your liking, so you blindly grab at his shirt, but your fingers are shaking too much for you to get a good grip. Once he realizes what you’re trying to do, he puts his hands over yours and helps you take off his shirt. You nearly start drooling when all of his hard, rippling muscles and smooth, tan skin are finally revealed to your greedy eyes that can’t seem to settle one thing. You don’t know if you’ll get this opportunity again and you want to remember everything in painstaking detail, especially Keishin’s gorgeous body.

He momentarily disentangles himself from you to remove his jeans, leaving him in just his Calvin Klein boxer briefs. The outline of his cock is evident as it strains against the blue material and you reach out to stroke it, but he just takes your hand in his.

He brings it to his lips, then kisses up your arm until he reaches your lips. “All in due time, sweet girl. I want to taste you first.” Your mouth is claimed in another hungry, bruising kiss and you squeal when Keishin takes your lip between his teeth and bites, blood rushing to the surface of your skin.

His head dips down to leave featherlight kisses and teasing licks down your chest and stomach before he’s resting between your thighs. You whimper pitifully as he spreads your legs, awaiting the feeling of a wet tongue or his fingers against your folds. When he doesn’t move for several beats, you come to the realization that he’s just watching the way your cunt twitches and clenches around nothing and the wetness that drips onto the couch each time your muscles contract. You quickly bring your legs together to hide yourself from his scrutinizing gaze, but he simply pries them open with little effort.

Keishin grabs your chin so you’ll look right at him, squirming from the intensity of his gaze. “Don’t you dare hide this pretty pussy from me, do you understand? I am going to devour you until I’ve had my fill and you’re going to just lie back and take it.”

You nod obediently, your impudence quickly dying, giving way to the burning ache between your legs that can only be sated by a long, hard fuck.

With a satisfied hum, he settles at the apex of your thighs and licks a long stripe from your quivering pussy to your swollen clit and your hips jerk from the contact. Strong hands pin your hips to the couch as you writhe in his firm grip. He gives your clit a soft, quick kiss before he takes it into his mouth and sucks. You grab fitfully at his hair, back arching and hips pressing into his mouth as you gasp and groan from the incredible feeling of his tongue on your sensitive flesh.

His tongue teases your entrance and your cunt twitches, anticipating the first thrust of his warm, wet muscle inside you. He occasionally dips into your hole, but never breaches your entrance and you think you might go mad if he doesn’t give you more.

“I-I need more, give me more,” you manage to gasp, grabbing a fistful of the pillow underneath you as the tightening in your belly gets stronger.

Keishin removes his mouth from your cunt just long enough to admonish you for your lack of respect. “You need to have more manners if you’re going to demand things of me,” he says, before latching back onto your swollen, twitching clit.

“Daddy, pleeease I need more. Ah! I want to cum!” Your voice is so high-pitched and whiny you almost don’t recognize yourself, but you’re nearly delirious from pleasure and your impending climax that’s been dangled over your head for what feels like hours.

“Now who am I to deny you when you ask so sweetly?”

He thrusts two of his digits inside you, reaching deep inside you and rubbing against your g-spot as he sucks your clit back into his mouth. You’re almost screaming at this point, clawing at his hair and humping your cunt against his face. The familiar tightening in your belly signals that you’re about to cum and your moans and cries get faster, louder as the promise of white hot pleasure is just within reach—

It’s almost embarrassing how fast you’re teetering on the edge of climax, as if you’re a virgin school girl that’s never touched herself before. But maybe that’s the difference that years of experience can make.

Not that you care. You just want to cum.

“Fuck, Daddy, I—I’m close!”

Sensing your impending orgasm, the man uses his free hand to slap your cheek then grabs your throat. “Uh-uh-uh,” he tuts, “Ask Daddy for permission to cum.” You’re clamping down on his fingers impossibly tighter as he fingers you even deeper, and the way he sucks on your clit renders you incapable of speech. Each time you open your mouth to try to speak, more desperate, wanton noises escape your lips.

You’re about to fucking burst at the seams and you feel like you’re on fire, but you want to be a good girl for your daddy, so you use the last bit of brain power you have left to ask for permission.

“P-pleaaase Daddy may I ahhh! May I cum!” you ask, but you can’t even hear Keishin give his approval from how loud the blood rushing in your ears is as you finally cum.

You try to muffle your cries with the back of your hand, but he grabs your wrist and wrenches it away from your mouth.

“Don’t do that. I want to hear you scream.” His tone is clipped and short, not caring how rough he is with your delicate flesh.

If you weren’t already cumming, you would have from the pleasure that’s so intense, it’s almost painful as your body is wracked with tremors. Your legs snap around Keishin’s head and you grip his hair even tighter as wave upon wave of your orgasm washes over you. You hear someone screaming and wonder what’s happening, when you realize it’s you, you’re the one screaming as you ride out your climax.

He greedily slurps and sucks up every single drop of your release that you can give him, as if he was stranded in the desert for a thousand years and your juices are the first sip of water to hit his dry, parched tongue. Your cunt is already so sensitive, painfully clenching around his fingers, but he just. Doesn’t. Stop.

“Fuck, K-Kei, wait ‘s too much,” you weakly protest, but your body is too spent to resist so you just lie there, twitching and gasping as he keeps sucking on your overstimulated clit.

His lips detach from your poor, abused bud and you almost sigh in relief before the fingers inside your cunt pump faster, stimulating every inch of your gummy walls.

Keishin leans over your sweaty, exhausted form, one hand braced on the couch, the other buried inside you. His fingers are hitting a spot inside you that makes you feel the urge to pee, so you try to push his hand away but it’s futile with how much stronger he is than you.

“Hold onnn, I’m g-gonna—” you slur, panicked, but it’s as if he didn’t hear you.

His digits are relentless, rubbing and stroking and you’re a fucked out mess. You don’t know what he wants until an uncomfortable tightness shoots through your cunt. You cry out as clear liquid gushes out of you, splashing all over you, the couch, and Keishin. If you were more coherent, you might be mortified because you just… pissed on him—

To your surprise, he’s laughing as he removes his hand from inside you, ignoring your halfhearted groans. “I was hoping you’d do that,” he says, holding up his hand, shiny and dripping with your juices.

“D-Do what?” you pant, unsure of what just happened and why Keishin seems so smug.

He uses his discarded t-shirt to wipe his hand off, then dabs at your stomach where a sizable puddle accumulated. “Squirt,” he responds. When he sees your confused expression, he follows up with, “It’s not piss, if you’re worried about that.”

“Ooookay.” You’re too dazed and exhausted to argue with him or question him further, so you just flop into the sofa and close your eyes.

“C’mon, little girl, don't tell me that’s all you’ve got. You were talking so much shit earlier and I have so much more to give you.” Despite how tired you are, his words spark new arousal in your belly and defiance revitalizes you, movement returning to your limbs.

You slide a hand down your stomach and spread the puffy lips of your cunt, sliding a finger through your wetness. “Of course it’s not. I’m ready to take that hard cock of yours, Daddy.”

“Attagirl, that’s what I like to see,” he praises, dropping his underwear and sliding them somewhere you can’t see.

His cock is gorgeous, but that doesn’t come as a surprise, considering the man it belongs to. It’s thick and curved in a way that you know will reach the deepest parts of you.

What you weren’t expecting is the many piercings adorning the shaft and the one that goes through the head. A long curved barbell enters through the tip and exits through the underside of his glans. Three evenly spaced rings are embedded in the skin where his shaft meets his balls. You’ve never seen so many piercings on one man, let alone in such a sensitive place, so you gawk at the smooth metal rings that shine in the overhead lights.

“You’re… You have…”

He grins widely and it’s so devilish you think he might swallow you whole and honestly? You’d let him. You’d let him do whatever he wants to you. “Haha, yeah I get that reaction a lot. Never seen a pierced cock before, huh?”

“No, but there’s a first time for everything. I’m dying to see how those,” you point to his piercings, “Feel inside me.”

Keishin wordlessly climbs on top of you and rubs the head against your wetness, spreading it along his shaft to ease his entry. “They’ll feel fucking incredible, but you’ll have to beg for it.”

You scoff, reaching to grab his hips so he’ll fuck you already, but he scoots backwards so you can’t touch him.

“Naughty girls that misbehave don’t get fucked, so you’d better smarten up quickly,” he warns, making you gasp as he thrusts his cock against your clit.

He lazily nudges the head over your flesh, occasionally letting it catch on the tight ring of muscle around your hole. When he slots between your pussy lips, you try to wiggle and hump your hips in his direction, in hopes that he’ll slide right in.

But he doesn’t, and you’re about to go mad with his cock so close, but so far away.

“Please fuck me Daddy. I need your cock so bad!” You’re on the verge of tears, the buildup of the last few weeks overwhelming your senses.

Making a noise of sympathy, Keishin pets your hair affectionately and kisses your cheek. “All you had to do was ask.”

His hips pull back, then he’s thrusting inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt in your tight heat. You whimper and whine at the sudden intrusion, but any pain you feel is overshadowed by the way that his cock is filling you so full. The burn and stretch hurts so fucking good that your orgasm hits you like a freight train, fast and hard and blinding. Keishin fucks you through it, his cock touching all of the sensitive spots inside you and the pleasure is so strong you have to screw your eyes shut as you cry out and fall apart around him.

When you open them again, the man is staring down at you with the most shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen. “See? I said you’d cum as soon as I put my cock inside you.”

Using all the strength you can muster, you slap his arm. “Shut up and just fuck me.”

“You still haven’t learned your manners, but I just can’t wait to shoot my cum deep inside this cute cunt of yours,” Keishin groans, pulling almost all the way out before burying himself back inside the hot, welcoming clutch of your pussy.

You can feel each of the metal rings on his cock, foreign and strange, but the odd feeling soon fades to little shocks of ecstasy each time they brush against your insides.

The lewd slapping sounds of skin on skin are all you can hear besides the occasional moan or hiss from the man fucking you within an inch of your life, not that you can focus on anything else right now.

You nudge at Keishin’s shoulder and he stops the rapid pistoning of his hips, an almost annoyed look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, but you just smile and push him backwards onto the couch, just like you were. He grunts in surprise as he falls backward, but he quickly quiets down when you climb on top of him and sink yourself back down on his length.

You both moan in unison as he fills you once more, the tip of his cock pressing against your cervix each time you force your cunt back down on him. His hands wander to your tits, grabbing, squeezing, and pinching the sensitive buds of your nipples.

Ever the troublemaker, you can’t resist making a jab at him now that you’re on top. “I wonder what she’d do if she knew you were with me right now. What would your daughter say about you taking advantage of a young, helpless girl?”

Keishin takes that moment to pull you against him, thrusting hard and rough into your gummy walls that never stop pulsing around him. You’re shaking and gasping, your tongue lolling out of your mouth in your pleasured delirium. “With the way your greedy, sloppy cunt is clenching around me, I wouldn’t say I’m taking advantage of you,” he points out, only slightly out of breath. “But you get off on this, don’t you? Letting an old man like me fuck you. I’m old enough to be your father.”

“Like you’re any b-better,” you bite back.

You cry out when Keishin starts rubbing your swollen clit in tight little circles, your third orgasm fast approaching.

“Fuck! I can—urgh, I can feel your pussy pulsing around me. I’m g-gonna cum,” he grits out, thrusting impossibly deeper inside you. He's pressed so far into you, he’s just thumping the head of his cock against your cervix. You scream and write in his arms, seeking to relieve the sharp burning in your womb just a little bit, but he has you firmly locked in his clutches. “Be a good little girl and cum for Daddy.”

Almost on command, you shake and moan, loud and long, as you cream all over his cock and coat the base in milky white. “Oh fuck, oh god! D-Daddy I’m cu-mming!” you wail with the last of your energy.

You’re so exhausted you go limp against him and let him use your body as a fuck toy until he reaches his climax. Keishin follows soon behind you, his thrusts growing sloppier and less coordinated as he mumbles obscenities under his breath. “Shit shit shit, fuck I’m cumming! I’m gonna—fuck!”

With one last thrust into your fluttering, over stimulated cunt he orgasms, his legs shaking as he shoots rope after rope of cum into your quivering womb.

You both lay there for several minutes to catch your breaths. You’re so sore and boneless you can barely move, but you manage to extricate yourself from Keishin’s long limbs. Leaning into the arm of the couch, you let your eyes flutter closed and allow sleep to take you.

You’re awoken by a warm, wet washcloth rubbing against your sensitive folds and you whine, sleepily wiggling your hips to get away from the discomfort. “Kid, I know it doesn’t feel good but, uh, it’s kind of a mess down there. You can go back to sleep, just let me clean you up.” Keishin’s familiar timbre comforts you so you settle back down, still half asleep.

“Mmm, Keishin?” you mumble, making grabby hands at the man.

He takes one of your hands in his. “Yeah?” he responds as he wipes the washcloth between your legs with his other hand.

You rub your face against his hand before placing a sloppy kiss on top of it. “Thank youuuu,” you slur.

Keishin just chuckles and rubs his fingers over your knuckles. “Yeah kid, you’re welcome. Just get some rest, alright?”

You’re asleep before he even finishes the sentence.

----

When you awaken it’s dark, most likely the middle of the night. There’s a blanket thrown over your unexpectedly clothed body, which is now covered in a worn, oversized shirt. It smells like fabric softener and musk, so you figure it must be Keishin’s.

Looking around, you bolt upright when you realize you’re not on the living room couch anymore, you’re now in a large, comfortable bed.

The sound of a deep, rumbling voice draws your attention to the bathroom connected to the room you’re currently in. “Oh, you’re finally awake,” Keishin says sheepishly as he emerges from the bathroom, then points to the nightstand next to you. “There’s some water and ibuprofen, you should take it. Even if you’re not sore now, you will be later.”

You chuckle tiredly as you stretch your overworked muscles. “I’m already sore, so I’ll definitely be taking these.”

He sits awkwardly on the side of the bed, unsure how to treat you after your little encounter. His brows are furrowed, a deep frown on he’s seemingly deep in thought.

“Whatever you’re thinking, just spit it out.” His head immediately snaps to you, eyes guarded and unreadable.

“What we did downstairs, it’s… not right. I’m supposed to protect young, impressionable girls like you. I’m a father—I would die if Tomi was after a man more than twice her age.”

You pull the blanket off of you and climb over to where the older man is seated on the mattress. “Keishin, let me ask you something.” He lifts his head, expectant. “Did you enjoy what we did? Because I did.” He nods slowly, still unsure what you’re getting at.

Taking his face in your hands, you tell him what you’ve been thinking for weeks. “At the end of the day, we’re two consenting adults who partook in consensual activities. Even if someone wants to clutch their pearls because you’re older than me, who cares?”

“Yeah, I get that, but… It has to be some sort of ethics violation on my part. You’re younger than my daughter, Bunny.”

“Even if it is, you have to allow yourself to live a little. Life is too short to deny yourself pleasures the world has to offer, and I don’t know about you, but I was very pleased by our… tryst.”

A cute blush spreads across Keishin’s cheeks as he remembers everything he said and did to you. “Aha, I was too. So, um… Would you want to do that again, sometime?” he asks, running a hand through his hair like he always does when he’s nervous.

You giggle and tackle him on the bed, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing. “Of course I do. We can even do it now, if you’d like…”

A couple hours later, just before Hitomi comes back, you limp across the hallway to your room and pass out, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

And that is how your little arrangement begins.

Most of your time is spent with Hitomi, mostly shopping and going out to eat when she has the day off, or just watching Netflix in her room when you’re both too tired to go anywhere.

However, in the wee hours of the morning when you’re sure that she’s asleep, you sneak up to her father’s bedroom and get fucked so hard and so good you can barely make it back to your bedroom before the sun rises.

It’s a good arrangement, you think, you both get what you want and your friend is none the wiser. You figure no harm, no foul. At the end of the winter break, Keishin will likely want to cut things off with you and you’ll go back to your college dorm as if nothing happened.

But the winter break isn’t over yet, and you plan on making the most of it.

Keishin has been fucking you into the mattress for so long, time no longer even makes sense anymore.

You’re sweaty and exhausted, muscles so sore and shaky, but the thrusting between your legs shows no signs of stopping anytime soon. The harsh grip on your hips will likely bruise, but luckily you can hide them, unlike the few close calls you’ve had with poorly-placed marks on your neck.

Despite your exhaustion, you continue to meet Keishin’s thrusts by humping your hips back at him.

He gives your ass a harsh spank and fucks into you harder, making you whine and clench around him. “You’re an insatiable little thing, aren’t you? So fucked out and dripping with my cum, yet you still want more,” he says, but all you can do is gasp in response. You’re too far gone to produce any meaningful response. “What am I going to do with you?” If you had the energy, you’d tell him whatever he wants, but you don’t and the familiar tug of an orgasm is too hard to ignore.

“Fuck Daddy, I-I’m—”

Suddenly, his phone comes to life, Hitomi’s face lighting up the screen as it vibrates. The pistoning of his hips slows, then stops completely as he reaches over and grabs it off the nightstand.

He suddenly pulls out of your sore, abused cunt and you almost whine at the loss before he buries himself back inside you. The way your face is pressed into the mattress makes it difficult, but you manage to turn your head to see what Keishin is doing behind you.

Your eyes widen and you try to wriggle out of his grip when you figure out that he’s going to answer his phone as he keeps fucking you.

A hand wraps around your neck, lifting you up from your position on the bed and you have to follow its movement to prevent your windpipe from getting crushed. You’re pressed against Keishin’s hard chest, and his cock is nestled right against your cervix. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll just stay still and take it like a good little girl.”

The harsh grip on your neck releases and you’re shoved back into the bed, falling onto the comforter.

Keishin sounds completely normal when he answers his phone and it almost pisses you off—how can he be so unaffected when you’re at your wit’s end?

He chirps into the phone, “Hey sweetheart, what’s up?” The only indication that anything is amiss is the slight breathlessness in his voice and the occasional curse under his breath.

He forces himself even deeper inside you so forcefully that you’re afraid he’ll punch straight through to your womb. You know it’s not possible, but with Keishin, it just might be. He’s always full of surprises, especially when it comes to your body.

“Oh yeah, sure I can drop it off to you later. I’m just a little… preoccupied at the moment,” he says with a sharp thrust of his hips and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips. Keishin stiffens above you, waiting to see if Hitomi heard you through the phone.

“No, Hitomi, I’m not watching porn! But hold on a second, I think someone is at the door.” He sets the phone on the bed, muting the call as his cock hits your g-spot and you’re shaking, practically shivering in his arms. A couple of hard, coordinated rubs of your engorged clit and you’re cumming, gushing around him and keening as your muscles clench uncomfortably. You scream silently and fall limp onto the bed, unable to hold yourself up any longer.

You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum, but it’s to the point that each successive orgasm borders on the edge of pleasure and pain.

“Better keep quiet, wouldn’t want my daughter to hear you getting your pretty little cunt stuffed full of my cock,” Keishin snarls into your ear and you feel yourself clench painfully around him. Your body is just so worn out, but you know he won’t stop until he’s satisfied. “Or do you want her to know what a slut you are for her father?”

You shake your head vehemently, but the man inside you just chuckles as he keeps fucking you.

“Oh my god, oh fuck I-I…” You’re babbling nonsense to no one in particular.

“Ahh it was just-fuck, it was just some dude trying to sell me security cameras. Anyways, I’ll see you later honey, I love you.” His last few sentences sound rushed, urgent and you can tell from the twitching of his length that he’s close. The moment the phone is hung up, Keishin cages you between his body and the mattress. “Your cunt feels so fucking good, I’m gonna fill you up with my cum. Would you like that?”

You try to nod and make a noise akin to ‘mhm,’ but you’re not sure what it sounds like. You’re not really sure of anything right now, but what you are sure of is you want him to cum inside you.

“I could never deny you anything, sweet girl,” he groans.

Keishin fucks into you harder, faster, and it feels as if he’s quite literally rearranging your guts, he’s so deep inside you. He reaches down between your legs and pinches your sensitive bud between his fingers. “Think you have one more in you, hm?” he asks, but he doesn’t wait for your answer. Of course you do.” He rubs your sore clit the way he knows will have you shaking and coming apart around him.

“Fuck Daddy, fuck I’m cumming!” you squeal, writhing and squirming from the painful, aching tightness of your orgasm as it builds once more.

“Ergh, fuck yeah, cum on Daddy’s cock as he fills you up. You’re such a good fucking girl for me, I love this sweet pussy.”

You shriek as you cum, your climax so strong that your vision blurs at the edges and you convulse, sore muscles twitching with overuse.

“Daddy’s gonna breed his sweet little girl, fuck, feels so fucking good!” Keishin groans, burying himself as deeply as he can inside you and shooting his cum into your quivering hole. You sigh in relief at the feeling of his warm cum flooding your womb, thankful he finally came because you couldn’t have lasted much longer in your state.

He flops next to you on the bed, sweaty and exhausted from your hours-long fuck marathon. Throwing an arm over your waist, he pulls you to his chest and buries his nose in your neck.

Hitomi’s not supposed to come back for several hours, so you both deem it safe to fall asleep as you are. Just when you’re about to drift off, your phone buzzes from the bedside table.

You reach for your phone, expecting it to be some spam email.

Your heart stops, the whole world seems to freeze when you open the text message.

From: Tomie <3

So when were you going to tell me you’re fucking my dad?

#haikyuu smut #ukai x reader #ukai smut #haikyuu x reader #ukai keishin #server collab #bunny scribbles #hq smut #hq fanfic #hq reader insert #haikyuu imagines

7K notes · View notes

write-orflight · 4 years

Text

The Fraction of Innocence.

**Gif Not Mine**

Anon Requested: 10, 16, and 25 for the smutty prompts thing!!!

10: “were you just touching yourself?” ‘yeah, what are you donna do about it?’

16: “the only way you are gonna get off is on my thigh.”

25: “she may be all lollipops and candy bars, but I bet behind closed doors she’s hand cuffs and gags.”

Pairings: SpencerXReader

Rating: M, (This is very explicit.)

Words: 4K

Warnings: NSFW!!! 18+ (Dom!Spencer, BDSM overtones, sexual conduct, fingering, bondage, etc.)

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Spencer thinks Y/N is an innocent, naive girl until a case reveals her extracurricular activities.

Spencer had been back from jail for 2 months when he first met her.

At first he didn’t think anything of her, other than the faint smell of vanilla and daisy as she walked past him in the bullpen and the bright smile that seemed to take up half her face. She was carrying files close to her chest like a schoolgirl late to class and the skirt of her white dress bellowed softly behind her as she made her way to Emily’s office.

“Who is that?” He had asked.

Luke looked up to where Spencer’s gaze was. “Oh, that’s Y/N, she's a tech analyst helping Penelope out right now. She’s sweet, you’ll like her.”

It doesn’t take Spencer long after that to decide he, in fact, does not like you. There was nothing wrong with you. Luke was right, you were sweet, almost sickeningly so. It was like you had no concept of reality. You lived in this world of all sunshine and good things despite the horror that crossed your screen daily. And while Penelope was the same, she at the very least knew how bad the world could be and chose to see the good in it. You didn’t, it was like you’d never had a single bad thing happen to you. And Spencer, who had been dealt the bad hand so many times in life hated that.

It also didn’t help that you were gorgeous too. You looked like an artist sculpted you himself to make the perfect woman. Real People weren’t supposed to look like that. Real people were supposed to have flaws and blisters. Real people were supposed to look tired so early in the morning not fully awake and smiling while handing everyone in the office a coffee. He didn’t understand how you could be real.

“Here you go, Spencer. Americano lots of sugar.” You said, placing the coffee on his desk.

“Thank you.” He mumbles.

“We have a case, by the way.” You giggle, going off to hand Luke his coffee before walking away to the conference room. Spencer was barely able to keep his eye roll at bay.

Luke sees that and laughs, clapping Spencer on the back. “Come on, kid. Play nice.”

“She’s giggling about a murder case.” Spencer grumbles before following him into the conference room.

“3 women have been murdered in Queens. Judging by the scars, they were all bound and strangled before finally being dumped in an alley.” Garcia says, as she goes through the slides, showing the crime scenes. “Police need our help finding the connection between these three women because right now, it looks like there is none.”

“I’d say.” Tara speaks up. “We have a waitress/student, a doctor, and a paralegal. All living in different areas of the city with virtually no reason to interact.”

Spencer looks down at his file, examining the picture when he notices something. Just as he opens his mouth to say something, you clear your throat.

“Umm, Emily?” You say from your seat right across from Spencer. Emily looks up inquisitively at you. “I think I know what connects them.”

“What’s that, Y/N?” Emily asks, raising a brow at her.

You clear your throat again. “Victim #2, Rebecca Belfront, has a Padlock collar necklace on in her second picture. That’s typically used to indicate she’s a submissive with a committed dominant partner. But she wasn’t wearing it when her body was found which makes me think that that relationship recently ended. That made me look at the marks on their arms. While there are some new ones from the murders, they all have faded marks around the wrist and body as well. Leads me to believe the bounding was er-... consensual. We should probably look into New York’s BDSM scene.” You close, smiling awkwardly.

Spencer looks at you in shock. He, of course, had come to the same conclusion you did and had been about to say that but he, at least, knew why he knew that. Why did you know that?

Emily hummed thoughtfully. “It’s worth looking into. Do you mind coming to NY with us? Your insight might be needed.”

You look kind of shocked at that but nod. “Of course, whatever I can do to help.” You say, softly.

“Great, Wheels up in 30.” She says, getting up, effectively ending the meet. Spencer watches you speed after her, files in hand to ask some more questions. Spencer’s walking back to his desk when Luke catches up with him.

“Y/N has a dark side. Who knew?” He says, smirking.

“Probably not.” Spencer muses. “She could’ve just known that. I mean, I just know stuff sometimes too.”

“Nah, I don’t think so. Her body language gave her away. She was flushing and stuttering sure, but she was confident in what she was saying. Almost as if, she was speaking from experience.” Luke laughs. “She may be all lollipops and candy bars here, but I bet behind closed doors, she’s handcuffs and gags.”

Spencer hums. “Maybe.” He says looking up to watch you walk back across the catwalk from Prentiss’ office. Luke was right though, your body language did give you completely away that you were talking from experience. Spencer couldn’t help but wonder just how much.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

When you arrive in New York, You head straight from the jet to the Police Station in Queens. You fiddle with your thumbs a bit, you are nervous.

“You ok?” Spencer says, from his spot in front of the bulletin board he was setting up. You were supposed to be helping him but you knew Spencer was particular about some things so you let him do it. In fact, there were a lot of things you’d let Spencer do. With you, to you, you weren’t picky. The man was gorgeous enough to make you nervous. With his lean muscles, long, fluffy hair, and large hands, he looked like something that walked right out of a wet dream of yours. Which sometimes, he was just that. You weren’t stupid though, you knew Spencer didn’t think of you that way. In fact, you didn’t think Spencer thought of you in any way. He seemed to ignore you anyway he could.

You look up from your laptop. “Oh yea, I’m fine. I’m just...nervous. I’ve never been in the field.”

“Chances are you won’t be, Emily will probably keep you in the Station if she can help it.” Spencer provides.

“I know, it’s just-- you know what I mean.” You say, Spencer nods before returning to the bulletin board. You stand to look at the map with him. “So, from what I was able to find there’s only 3 BDSM clubs in Queens but there’s only one in the middle of where the three women were found. Place called Cat’s Cradle.”

Spencer hums. “How complicated and unpredictable the machinery of life really is.” You look up at the man, recognizing the quote.

“There is love enough in this world for everybody, if people will just look.” You say back, shrugging.

“You read Vonnegut?” He asks.

“You said that like you’re more surprised that I can read than what I read being Vonnegut.” You say, Spencer shrugs not even denying it. God, he was such a dick sometimes. A hot dick, but a dick nonetheless.

The two of you turn when you hear a knock at the door to see the lead detective coming in to check on you guys. “Just wanted to see how things were coming along. Also see if you guys needed anything?” Though he only directed the question at you with a sly smirk on his face. Men were so obvious sometimes.

“Nope, we’re fine.” You smile although you didn’t want to. “We’ve narrowed down to a couple BDSM clubs so hopefully we’ll catch our guy soon.”

“Wait, you think these girls were…” He trails off. You nod, knowing what he was thinking. “Well, it probably serves them right.”

“Excuse me?” You say.

“Listen, I know what kind of girls go into those kinds of clubs. If they want to be sexual deviants, they can’t be surprised when shit like this happens to them.” He gestures to the board.

“Actually more women are into Dominant/Submissive as well as BDSM relationships than you would think, statistically 85%.” Spencer cuts him off. “These clubs are just commonplace for them to meet like minded people just like you would do in any other club and they should be put on trial after their deaths for trusting the wrong person. If you don’t mind, we’d like to get back to work, Detective.” He says, turning back towards the board. The man nods and leaves shortly after that.

“Thank you.” You say, softly.

“What for?” Spencer asks.

“Come on, I work with profilers and I’m not stupid. I know you guys know about me so thank you for defending me just now.”

“I wasn’t defending you.” Spencer says. “He was making inappropriate comments about victims and we don’t need that outdated way of thinking working on this case. Besides…” He says, eyes flickering down to your lips and back to your eyes. “You’re not the only one with… unconventional extracurriculars.” He turns and walks out after that leaving you watching after him.

What?

------------------------------------------------------------------

After delivering the profile, you find the Unsub, a man named Ivan Parke. The only thing left to do was find the best way to snuff him out. When the team is discussing the next best course of action. It’s then Luke comes up with the idea.

“We should send Y/N undercover.” He says. “She knows the profile and knows the most about the scene.”

Emily nods. “Is that something you’re comfortable with, Y/N.”

You look up. “Oh, um yea. I’d have to find a different outfit but you have to send someone with me.” You say, everyone looks at you confused so you sigh and explain yourself. “If you send me into a club like this, in a foreign place with no Dom, the Unsub isn’t going to be my only worry. Someone’s going to have to play my dominant.”

“I’ll do it.” Spencer speaks up. Your eyes widened, you were not expecting Spencer to agree to it, you assumed you’d be stuck with Luke. Now you’re going to have to spend the night with the man you’d been crushing on since you started working with the BAU as his submissive. Like that wasn’t a dream come true.

“Great.” Emily says, dismissing everyone and handing you an expense credit card for an outfit. You take it and leave immediately, ignoring the sly look Spencer gives you.

You ended with a short, low-cut black leather dress with tank-like sleeves that showed off your curves and left very little to the imagination. As well as a clear pair of platform heels. You pulled your hair back into a sleek ponytail and you topped the look with your own personal leather choker with a large circle knob in the center. It was one of your favorite pieces to wear though you never really got a chance to wear it unless you were going to clubs, which you didn’t do as often these days. It was an expensive piece sure, but so worth it when you got to wear it. You were doing your makeup a little darker then you usually do in the bathroom when Spencer comes in.

“Is this how you typically look on the weekends?” He asks, standing behind you in the mirror. You look up to look him in the eyes through it.

“If I have the time.” You shrug.

“It’s very different. You’re very different from how I thought you were.”

“And how did you think I was, Spencer?”

“Naive...innocent.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have assumed anything about me.” You say, turning towards the man.

“Maybe you’re right… That’s an expensive piece.” He points out pointing to your choker. “Emily’s going to have fun explaining that at the next budgetary hearing.”

“I didn’t buy it today.” You explain. “It’s mine.”

Spencer hums for a moment before lifting his hand to turn your jaw, examining the piece. You can’t help the way your breath hitches at the contact. Spencer was already so close to you and now he was touching you, it was already starting to be too much. Soon, Spencer is hooking two fingers into the circle knob of your choker and he yanks it. Involuntarily, a whimper falls from your lips, prompting a smirk from the man across from you.

“Tonight’s going to be fun.” He says before leaving you in the bathroom in a state of shock.

--------------------------------------------------------

After getting your comms set up by Luke, who tried to avert his eyes from your frame as much as possible, you and Spencer walk into the Cat’s Cradle. Typically you didn’t like the club scene, but you sometimes liked to venture out when looking for a new partner. Cat’s Cradle was definitely different than the other places you had been. Sure it still had the private rooms and the main stage where a scene was happening in front of you but it was a lot more laid back than the ones you went to in DC. Spencer was really enjoying his role too. Probably hamming it up too much because he knew there was a part of you that actually wanted him to. In the end, finding Ivan Parke was easy. He took the bait almost instantly and you were arresting him just as fast.

“Great work tonight guys.” Emily says, when you reach the hotel lobby. “Jet’s leaving at 7AM so make sure to get some rest.” She says, dismissing you.

Now begged a tricky situation because you had almost forgotten you and Spencer were rooming together. As you walked back to the room together the air was thick but both of you were silent. The tension had been building between the two of you since he yanked your choker in the station bathroom. You knew it was a matter of time. The dam had to break.

“You can shower first.” Spencer says. You nod, taking off your choker and grabbing clothes before taking solace in the bathroom. You wanted Spencer and you knew you needed to expedite this. After a much needed shower, you change into your pajama shorts and tank combo. Spencer steps into the shower almost as soon as you leave it. It’s then that you think of the perfect plan. You lay on the bed and spread your legs before slipping a hand down your shorts. You tease yourself at first, rubbing your clit through your underwear while you thought about the events of the night. How Spencer had been so authoritative. How his hand slid to the small of your back and sometimes ghosted your ass as the two of you walked around the club. How he had been so close in the bathroom. The way he yanked you closer. A small moan escaped you as you slid your hand in your underwear. Soon you hear the bathroom door open. Spencer stops short, watching you before leaning on the frame.

“Were you just touching yourself?”

“Yes.” You answer. “Are you gonna to do something about it?”

“Should I? Instead of telling me what you want you decide to act like a brat and do this.”

Spencer moves closer to the bed but doesn’t do anything, just continues to watch you so you decide to give him a show. Moaning loudly as you slide a digit inside of you. Spencer looks at you with hooded eyes. You can’t help the small laugh that leaves you.

“I think you’re going to give me what I want.” You say, smirking.

“And why’s that?” He says.

“You’re already weak.” You say.

“I’m weak, pretty girl?” He asks, incredulously. Before you know it, he’s ripping your hand out of your pants and crowding in the space between your legs forcing you to sit up and look at him. “You’re in here touching yourself to the thought of me like a horny teenager and I’m the one who’s weak? Ok.” He sits back and pulls you by your hips to sit on top of his lap, your legs straddling one of his thighs. “The only way you’re getting off is on my thigh, ok?” He tells you, starting to move your hips. You moan, nodding your head as the friction makes its way through your core. Spencer lifts your shirt off you and smirks when his eyes land on your bare breast. He leans forward to catch your left nipple in his mouth. Your back arches as you grind harder against his thigh. Your hands fly up to start unbuttoning his shirt when he stops you.

“Did I say you could touch yet, princess?” He asks.

“N-No, sir.” You stutter.

“Then keep your hands to yourself.” He says, putting your hands back to your side. He does indulge you by taking his shirt off himself. But that doesn’t help you keep your hands to yourself. You saw the lean muscle and craved to mark it up with your nails. Your hands go up to touch him again but he stops you.

“If I have to ask you again, I’m going to tie you up, Princess. Just be good, baby.”

You were already close before but now with Spencer’s hands and mouth everywhere and constant friction on your sex it was damn near pushing you off the edge.

“I’m gonna come.” You tell him, he grips your hips tighter, lifting his leg slightly so he was only rubbing against your clit. That makes you moan out loudly.

“Go ahead, Princess. Cum for me.” He says, and that was all you needed to fall right over the edge. Your legs shake and convulse as Spencer grips your hips help you ride it out. Soon you come down panting and he’s kissing into your neck. He pulls back and grips your jaw.

“Still think I’m weak, Princess?” He asks.

You knew it was unwise. In fact, you tried to stop yourself before you did it but it was too late. You reared your hand back and slapped Spencer across the cheek. Not hard enough to be seen as anything malicious but sharp enough to throw him off, like he couldn’t believe you had done it.

“Yes I do.” You say looking him in the eyes after. Something like a switch went off because there was no other way to describe the look he gave you other than feral and fully primitive. He pushes you off him.

“Get on your hands and knees, now.” He says, menacingly. You scramble and run to get into the position. Once in, Spencer forces your knees further apart. He angrily takes his belt off his pants before fashioning them into a makeshift cuff and pulling your wrist so they’re tied behind your back, leaving you face down into the mattress. He slides your shorts and underwear off in one go. You yelp loudly when the first slap comes to your behind. When the second and third slap comes, you try to squeeze your legs together to get some form of friction but Spencer forces your knees further apart. You moan out when you feel a digit slide against your folds. You try to push back on it but Spencer holds your hips in place.

“P-Please.” you stutter.

“What do you want, Princess?” He says, sliding a second digit inside you making you cry out more.

“Please, fuck me, Spencer.” You say, and you really didn’t have to ask twice because almost as soon as you ask Spencer’s hands leave you to finish unbuckling his pants. There’s a brief moment of calm, so calm that you almost think Spencer wasn’t going to give you what you want but that calm is interrupted by Spencer slamming into, no warning. You scream out but that’s only rewarded with your head being shoved more into the mattress to muffle your cries. Spencer’s hands are pulling on your cuffs so he is almost impossibly deep inside you. You moans start to get louder and louder. Suddenly, Spencer is pulling you up so you’re both sitting up, your back against his chest. One of his hands slides to grip around your neck while the other is moving to circle your clit. The hand around your neck tilts your jaw back so you’re looking up at the man behind you.

“Fuck, you feel so good. Open your mouth, Princess.” He orders, which you do instantly sticking your tongue out. Spencer leans forward and spits into your waiting mouth before locking his mouth with yours. His hand squeezes your neck tighter as you moan into his mouth as he starts fucking you faster, his dick hitting your g-spot almost every thrust. It’s not long before you’re just babbling, not even able to string a coherent sentence together.

“You gonna come for me, Princess?” He asks. You nod, moaning loudly. At this point, you knew there was no way the person in the room next to you guys didn’t hear you. You could only hope that it wasn’t one of the team. “Go ahead for me, baby. Be a good girl and come on my cock.” After that, it doesn’t take long before you’re falling over the edge, shaking all the while. Spencer fucks you through it before tightening his grip on your hips to bend you back forwards so your face is back on the mattress. He fucks you hard and fast before falling over the edge himself, moaning your name.

The two of you say nothing as he unties you. When he does, you instantly flop down on your back, breathing heavily. Spencer wordlessly gets up and goes to the bathroom. For a moment you think he’s just leaving you like this, that you were foolish to think Spencer cared anything about you but in that moment he comes back with a wet cloth and ointment. He says nothing as he wipes between your legs before tossing the towel aside. You watch him with a smirk on your face as he rubs the ointment on the red marks the red cuffs made on you.

He looks you in the eye. “What, Y/N?”

“What happened to Princess?” You say, Spencer just looks at you with a bored expression which only makes you smile more. “Now’s probably a good time for you to ask me to dinner.”

Spencer chuckles lightly at that. “You don’t want to go to dinner with me.”

“I’m almost positive I do. Why would you say that?” You ask.

Spencer looks you in the eyes at that moment. “I’m not-Y/N, I’m not like you.”

“Like me?”

“I’m not able to be cheery and smiley. I can’t float into rooms. I can’t be happy like you are, too much has happened to me. You deserve someone happy.”

“Spencer.” You say, looking him in the eyes. “You are not broken. You can be happy, it’s going to take time sure but I’m willing to be with you through that. If you want that.” You say.

Spencer nods. “Ok, Y/N.” he smiles.

“So….?”

He rolls his eyes at that. “What’re you doing next sunday?”

You smile, brightly. “Absolutely nothing.”

Perm. Taglist: @moonshinerbynight @crimeshowtrash

#spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer x you #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #bau x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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beewithknee · 3 years

Text

death was the only way

quinn angst

t.w - suicide baiting, mentions of asher being a 'pet' basically, violence, references to past abusive relationships (with quinn), threats of violence/death against love ones, objectification

That's when it all fell into place. “It’s the only way.” You whispered out, voice quiet and reserved. It was a fact. Death was the only way to preserve life. Life that was far more important than yours. Life that would be missed. You were a mere blimp in the system that would be eradicated. “C’mon my precious pet. don’t you wanna save David and his sickeningly human partner. If not them, what about Asher and his little… owner. Or maybe Milo, yes, Milo and his stealth, that fucking bitch.” Quinn snarled, fingers curling into a fist at the mere mention of them. “Don’t you fucking touch them! You hear me! I will rip you apart, limb from fucking limb if I get wind that you’ve hurt anyone else I love.” You swore, arms thrashing around wildly. “Oh do shut up. God, you really were much easier to deal with when you knew your place. I suppose that little vampire of yours has reversed all my hard work, huh?” The vile man laughed, full bellied and head tilted back.

You froze. Oh god, so he did know about Sam. With your breath hitched in your throat, the last little bit of fight in you felt defeated. Quinn sobered, “Hmm, now wasn’t that an interesting reaction. But yes, I know all about your little informant. Sam is a problem, but not one that cannot be fixed with relative ease.” The bastard smirked, relishing in the way you seemed to break just right. Oh? Quinn had always found it was the most satisfying when you got to see the light in someone’s eyes go out, especially someone who was so goddamn stubborn. “Sam…” You whispered out, so lost in your own head that you were unaware his name even left your lips.

You needed him in that moment, needed to hear his voice, to feel his touch, to look into those gorgeous hazel eyes and know you were loved and treasured one last time. “Right, well, this has been fun. But I'm afraid we’re still at a stand-still. Now either you go through with it and dispose of your meaningless little existence and therefore my problem, or I kill every single person you hold dear to you in the most painful way all while you watch, unable to stop me. Your choice.” He smiled darkly, face glinting with something that made your stomach churn. There was no choice. There wasn’t even a conscious decision, you had known this was coming for far too long and had already made up your mind.

“Can I… May I call him one last time? At least give me that, please.” You begged, remembering his rules about asking permission. Quinn scoffed, rolling his eyes before thrusting a phone at you. You dialled the number off by heart, you’d rung it so many times; the late night phone calls, the cries for help, the silent breathing on the other line, the rambling about your days. It didn’t matter what the call entailed, only that it was him. ��What?” The southern voice barked harshly into the receiver. You took a shaky breath, “Sam.” You could hear his breath catch and felt tears build up in your eyes. “Holy fuck Darlin, sorry. I’ve been stressed all day, are you okay? What’s happening?” He asked quieter, calmer, and you swore you could feel the stress melting out of him as you breathed heavily on the other line. “Nothing much, and nothing’s wrong. I promise. I just wanted to call and say that I love you and I'm so goddamn thankful to have met you, and you changed my life so much. You thawed out a broken wolf’s heart, y’know that?” Your lip quivered and you prayed to whatever deity was out there that Sam couldn’t hear your mini-breakdown. “Oh… Okay, sorry that just wasn’t what I expected. I love you too. You are far too good to me and I hope you know just how loved you are. Are you sure everything’s okay?” God Dammit Sam. You silently cursed. Bringing a hand up to pinch at your nose you inhaled quietly. “Yeah, I just wanted to tell you. Shit fangs, I gotta go! But I love you, bye!” You responded cheekily, doing anything you could to make him laugh one last time. “Okay dog breath. I love you too. Be safe, yeah?” The line disconnected and the floodgates opened.

You had lied to save him, granted. But you had still lied. You wiped your tears, biting down on your shaking lip hard and slammed Quinn’s phone to the ground. “Oi, you little fucking mutt. That was worth more than you! Y’know, I was nice. I gave you your pathetic fucking phone call, I gave you a choice. But no, the little bitch just had to go and ruin it. Hmm, what a shame.” That smirk was back. Quinn took a step closer and you took one back, trying to maintain whatever distance you could. “Now, the real question is, do I kill you? Or do I turn you? Make you my little puppet? Hmm, decisions, decisions.” He stroked at his chin, a predatory gaze taking over his eyes once more. “No, killing you would be much easier.” And with that made up, he lunged.

#redacted asmr #redacted sam #angst #angst no happy ending #I genuinely cried writing this #also this was pure impulse #x female reader #x male reader #x gender neutral reader #g.n reader #my bad #sorry not sorry abt this

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ominouschickens · 3 years

Text

Taste

Vincent Sinclair x AMAB!GN! Reader

Warnings: nsfw. nsft. oral (reader receiving), hair pulling, reader has a dick, some dirty talk

Nobody requested this, I just wanted to write Vincent with an amab! reader lol. Let me know if you find anything wrong or fuckied up, I’m still learning how to write good.

It’s been a rough day for both of you. Bo was in a shitty mood; therefore, everyone else was too. Pulled some shit on Vincent, which you argued over. Overall it was a tiring day. All you want to do is sleep. But of course you won’t. Vincent is still working and you can’t seem to fall asleep without him holding you. You decided to just stay up with him.

You’re on his desk chair, spinning in lazy circles while some opera music plays in the background. He’s chiseling away at an arm of some lady. She’s gorgeous, sickeningly so. It makes you smirk, knowing her fate is to collect dust.

“Vince, baby, I don’t understand how you listen to this. It’s like screaming, but vibrato,” you tease. Vincent gives a playful huff before turning to sign,

“You listen to metal. Same thing in opposition directions.”

You roll your eyes and scoff. “It is not the same thing, opera is like…” you then proceed to give the most awful rendition of some random operatic sounding mess. Vincent snorts.

“But metal is more emotional! It’s screaming but with passion!“ Vincent waves his hand, ignoring you in favor or sculpting out a cheekbone. Damn him and his determination.

“Honey, baby, sweetheart,” you gripe. Vincent only hums. “Mi amor, I am so bored! Give me some lovins!” Vincent shushes you before continuing his work on the pretty lady. “Today sucked! Come and sleep it off with meeeee,” you whine.

Vincent finally steps away from the sculpture before turning and glaring at you with one blue eye. You give him your best toothy smile. He sighs and rolls his eyes, throwing his hands up in defeat.

“Fine, you win.”

You pump your fists in victory and drag him off to your shared room near the back of the basement. You slip out of your clothes, and pick out a comfortable pair of boxers and one of Vincent’s old t-shirts. Lucky for you, Vincent can’t help himself from touching you.

Warm, calloused hands slide over your hips, settling on your lower abdomen. His warm breath puffs onto your neck. You chuckle, noting the lack of his mask.

“Need to smell me or somethin’?” you tease. Vincent flips you around, and your hands settle on his hips.

“You look good in my clothes,” he signs. You roll your eyes playfully, sliding your hand over his chest and up to his shoulder. He slides his hand up to your cheek and leans in for a kiss, which you meet happily.

You pull back for a breath, but he chases you. You laugh softly before he catches your lips again. The kiss travels somewhere deeper, more passionate. Vincent’s hands slowly trace over your skin, sliding your shirt up and pressing patterns into your sides.

His gentle touches work you up, and it isn’t long before you’re moaning and gasping into his mouth. Your erection presses into Vincent’s thigh, making him smile into your kiss. He pulls away, dragging you to your shared bed.

“Can I use my mouth on you? Want to taste you,” and god that makes you throb with want. You nod quickly, but he holds up a hand. “Need you to say it for me.”

“Yes, god please!”

That’s all Vincent needs before he’s pressing you to lay down on the bed. He crawls between your thighs, all the while he palms at your clothed cock. You’re already leaking and straining against your underwear. Vincent takes notice, but steers clear of where you need him most. Instead, he presses gentle kisses to the inside of your thigh, your stomach, your neck.

You’ve quickly become a mess, writhing on the bed as he sucks dark marks onto your collar bones. His thigh slides up to your crotch, adding pressure that feels so good it makes you whine. Vincent lets out a raspy chuckle at that.

“C’mon, it’s not fair! You’re teasing,” you whine. Vincent pulls away from sucking another dark hickey at your pulse point to sign,

“You made me come to bed, wore my clothes, and looked so good. That deserves teasing, yes?”

You just groan and tip your head back, which Vincent eagerly claims with his mouth. He shifts to straddling you, his form hovering over yours. You can feel his erection through his jeans pressed against yours, making you moan.

He gives a little thrust, that does something that makes your head spin. He falls into a rhythm, slowly moving himself back and forth over your cock. The friction is nearly too much.

“Vince, baby please. Need you now, no more teasin’” you moan. Vincent huffs but obliges. He tugs your boxers off with your help and settles himself between your thighs. His mouth hovers over your cock, puffing warm air over it softly. You whine and shift your hips up, but Vincent’s having none of it. He slides one hand over your lower abdomen and presses you down, keeping you in one spot.

Finally, his tongue slides over you, base to tip. A low shuddering moan escapes you, making Vincent smirk. He continues teasing you like that for a minute, which to you feels like hours. Then he graciously wraps his lips around your aching tip and gives a light suck, making you groan.

He bobs his head slowly, getting used to your length. Spit is already beginning to pool around the scarred side of his lips. Vincent slowly picks up speed, but does something with his tongue that makes you see stars. You’re moaning and sighing as he continues to treat you so well.

“Christ, Vince- feels so good,” you moan. Your hands travel lower, tangling in his hair. You scratch softly at his scalp, but on particularly delightful act of his tongue, you accidentally pull. Vincent moans around you, causing you to moan too.

“Shit, you like that sweetheart?” You tug at his hair again, causing another groan. You laugh breathlessly, Vincent glares you at you with his one eye. “Should’ve told me, woulda pulled your hair sooner.”

Vincent continues sucking you off, you feel the white hot coil in your stomach forming. You tug his hair harder, guiding him up and down your length. He moans around you, making delicious vibrations that leave you gasping.

“Shit Vince! So close, doing so well for me, gonna make me-“ before you can finish your sentence, Vincent trails his hands up to your chest and not-too-lightly scratches down to your stomach. You gasp and look down at him through heavy lashes, and the coil gets tighter and tighter…

Vincent laps his tongue along your sensitive tip and then roughly sucks, making you snap. You moan loudly as you climax, thighs shaking. Vincent works you through your orgasm, and when you whimper from overstimulation, he’s quick to pull back. He wipes the back off his hand over his mouth, collecting spit and what’s left of your release.

“Holy shit…” you gasp. Vincent snorts and strips down to just his t-shirt and boxers with you. Then, he gently switches positions, laying you on top of him. His finger card gently through your hair. “You’re very good at that…” you mumble into his neck. He only hums in response. But you’re not done for tonight.

“Your turn.”

#slashers x reader #slashers #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent x reader #vincent sinclair #house of wax #vincent x amab!gn! reader #vincent sinclair x amab!gn! reader #vincent sinclair x you #nsfw.#nsft.#my writing #ghost writes #lemon flavored #grapefruit flavored

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ushidoux · 3 years

Text

Kiss Me More - Doja Cat ft. Sza, Ushijima x Reader

Warnings: alcohol and tobacco use, creepy dudes in the club, car sex, nsfw

A/N: I cannot stop thinking about this song smh

---

It’s several minutes past midnight… your mind is hazy, it swims in the scent of the strawberry-flavored shisha that bubbles on the table before you, in the second mixed drink that’s doing a little more damage to your consciousness than it should. You are a well known lightweight, but maybe you willed yourself to be a little more drunk than you should be tonight.

Your hands drape lazily around your friend, and you laugh a little too hard, burying your face in her bare shoulder courtesy of her strapless dress, as you hold onto her for support. Her scent is comforting, not in the same way that Ushijima’s is, of course, but it’s what you need right now. Her hands play with your hair as you move in tune with the music; she wants to beat your situationship into the ground because she knows where your mind is is very precarious right now.

But for now you’re having fun.

Your dress is short and both form-fitting and flattering, and your heels are high. You look absolutely drop-dead gorgeous, and to the dismay of many, you’ve rebuffed every man who’s approached you for a dance thus far.

In this crowded club, with bodies pressed together, heat, sweat and lust abundant in the air, you’ve stayed close to your friends, as though you were trying to stay ‘faithful’... to what exactly?

He was just so… dense. You’d never been so needy before until you’d met him. The feeling of powerlessness to decide the course of things was overwhelming; you always seemed to be waiting for him. Waiting for him to text you, touch you, acknowledge your presence.

Maybe the game you were playing was immature, but it didn’t matter how many times your phone vibrated in your bra, you were not picking up. Not tonight.

Your friend pulled back from your embrace to check a text message and glanced at you for a moment, but you were already off in a spin to the bar just paces away for drinks.

“I’ll be right back~” you murmured, an inebriated grin on your face.

You stumbled shakily past a moving mass of bodies before reaching your destination. Leaning over the bar trying to catch the bartender’s attention, it wasn’t long before you felt a stranger’s arm snaking around your waist.

“What the-”

A quick turn had you facing a sleazy grinned man.

“What are you drinking, princess?”

He was still disgustingly close, enough that you could smell the alcohol on his tongue, but regardless, you smiled sickeningly sweetly, shaking your head before breaking free of his hold.

“I don’t drink actually,” you lied unconvincingly as if you weren’t wobbling on your feet, but you needed something to reply before you marched back over to your friends, sobering up ever so slightly.

Once you’d rejoined your friends, you glanced over your shoulder to see him still watching you, and a shudder ran down your spine.

But you weren’t going to let yet another man ruin your fun.

“Did you call him?” Your friend asked once you’d replaced your arms around her shoulders.

Your eyebrows furrowed angrily.

“No, why would I?”

She sighed, tired of being on her feet, and pulled you down with her to sit before taking a long draw of shisha. Your eyes focused on your other friend who’d come with her boyfriend and might as well have been dry-humping in public, she was that close to him physically.

Lack of ambiguity in a relationship was nice.

Your phone vibrated again, and you pulled it out of your bra in annoyance, setting it on the table face down without checking.

Alcohol was waning in your system and you were starting to feel sad again, but you had been spooked enough by the creepy dude at the bar that you wouldn’t venture for a drink for a while.

Except when you looked up, you realized that that same stranger had now made his way over to you, his smile now replaced with a twisted snarl from rejection.

“Don’t be a bitch, I can see you’re just slightly off from piss drunk,” he hissed, before yanking at your arm roughly, forcing you to let out a yelp.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” Your friend shrieked, her hand raised for a firm slap only for her hand to be blocked by the man who was getting more belligerent by the second.

The pain of the grip he had on your arm was barely dulled by alcohol as you tried to wrench it away from him, wondering how the fuck someone ends up so bold as to harass women in a full club. Your friend and her boyfriend disentangled themselves quickly enough to make their way over to help you, but were beaten to it by the sound of your not-exactly boyfriend’s deep voice.

“If you’d like to keep that arm, I suggest you fuck off immediately.”

Ushijima’s large hand wrapped around the arm that was restricting yours and he wasn’t looking at you, but at the man who was harassing you, his eagle-like eyes narrowed further. Your eyes widened - he hated places like these, when did he get here? How long had he been here? Who was he with?

There was a brief moment where the two stared each other down, but your creep wasn’t able to hide the wince forming on his features as Ushijima’s hand tightened, and his fingers unfurled around yours quickly.

He stormed off, tail between his legs, through the small crowd that had now gathered to observe the scene. Now that the spotlight seemed to be on you, Ushijima interrupted his own glare at the fleeing man to give you a once over to see if you were okay, fists unclenching.

“This is certainly one way to get my attention,” he mused, and your blood boiling immediately, you considered punching him in the face, but your friend hushed you, rubbing the tender part of your forearm.

But you were still angry.

“Don’t you have practice in a couple hours? Why would you waste your time here?”

He pursed his lips somewhat, but giving a clear glance to your friend who shook her head and backed off, he reached for your hand gently.

“Next time, pick up your phone. Let’s talk somewhere privately.”

---

“I wish you would just,” your tirade was interrupted by a single hiccup, “be clear about,” you paused as though winded, but continued, “... whatever the fuck this is!”

You stopped and your words hung in the small space between you. Seated in the passenger seat of his car, you felt like the space was closing in. You hadn’t had tons of dating experience, but you’d had enough to know that it was never a good sign when someone seemed to care less than you did. You’d been dumped before and once was enough.

The way Ushijima had you orbiting around him was embarrassing. Even when you were trying not to need him, you still ended up needing him. Sure, things would have turned out fine most likely even if he hadn’t been there, but still.

Ushijima was quiet, but his eyes remained on you. You hated how comfortable he could feel just staring, relaxed and unmoving like some kind of unnecessarily detailed sculpture.

“What do you think this is?” You finally asked. Your voice was smaller than it needed to be and again, you were embarrassed, but if he meant to break your heart, it would be better to do this when your friends were still around, waiting, and could support you.

Maybe then you could cry for real rather than grieve aimlessly while still locked in some kind of formless relationship.

“I think we’re dating, and I like you and you like me,” he finally replied. “Of course, I can’t speak for you. I hope that you feel the same way I do.”

Your heart stirred ever so slightly, and your fingers found a job adjusting the hem of your dress. Your eyes focused on the curve of your knees. He says the right things, but does he mean them?

“You’re distant. Like you can’t be bothered that I’m around.”

His hand reached out for you, his fingers resting on the nape of your neck.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” He whispered, leaning in. His other hand closed around your chin, turning you so that you could look at him.

In the moonlight, the hazel of his eyes was especially bright, making your heart pound. His gaze focused on the lower lip that was starting to quiver.

“I want to kiss you, but you’re still upset,” he said suddenly, directly, as though it were the most simple yet frustrating dilemma. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m not paying attention to your concerns.”

“Toshi…,” you were at a loss for words, especially with his lips so close. Your hand rested on his chest.

“Can I show you how I feel?”

You nodded, and his lips found their way onto yours.

His tongue slipped into your mouth like it was home and you accepted him in similar fashion. Your hands made their way around his neck and he hastily pulled you over the car console onto his lap, deepening the kiss as he leaned you against the steering wheel of the car.

It wasn’t long before your body-conforming dress now covered nothing, your breasts exposed for kisses between and around them, for the gentle massage of his large hands. Your back arched as kisses littered your neck, collarbones, arms and the soft part of your belly.

You moaned as he lowered you onto his cock that always craved the pressure of your walls around him, leaning forward and biting the flesh of his shoulder as you endured the stretch. He lay the car seat down flat, engulfing your lips with his before rolling his cock into you slowly, sensually, taking every moment for you to mewl into his open mouth. His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, keeping you steady as he slammed you down against him, leaving marks that he would kiss away later.

He’d kiss you so many ways for so many days, months, years to come.

#ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #haikyuu smut #ushijima smut #series: songscapes #not sfw #mae.writing

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euphoricsunflowers · 3 years

Text

held against the window — lee hoseok/wonho

request: Could you write a smut of wonho being a secretary and the reader the ceo. OR they are both ceo's. Maybe fuck him against the window of the office building.

a/n: of course darling <33 hope you enjoy <3 gif is mine

disclaimer: that is this is just a fanfic so in actuality please discuss what you are and aren’t comfortable with beforehand with people and don’t just jump into stuff like this. aso please don’t involve other people (aka public sex) in your sex life. please read with caution.

word count: 2.5k

content: sub!wonho, dom!fem!reader, ceo!reader, tall!reader (i’m sorry but there’s literally only like one line and i’m doing this for me) ceo!wonho, fingering (m receiving), pegging, minor nipple play, minor dumbification, fucking him against a window,

summary: he’s a powerful ceo just like you are, but he’s just so sweet and docile and soft that you wonder if he’s even the same person.

lee hoseok.

smart. calculated. muscular. dangerously attractive.

he’s an enigma, in a sense, to you. he’s rich, he’s insanely intelligent, he’s beyond adept at running his company, and he’s just so gorgeous that you wonder how he isn’t the cockiest asshole ever, but he’s also so kind and so sweet and so startlingly shy that it all just throws off everything about him.

“mr. lee is here, miss,” your assistant pops their head in through the door, “should i show him to your office?” you nod, murmuring a small “thank you” before you focus back on your laptop, finishing up typing before the door opens once more, and the man of the hour steps inside your office.

“hello,” you say.

“hello, good morning,” he smiles back, looking almost cute in the way he smiles, sitting in the chair opposite from yours at your desk, “thank you for taking time out of your day to meet with me- can i call you y/n?”

“go ahead,” you tilt your head as you hear him talk, but you don’t honestly pay attention to what he’s saying, too lost in his eyes and the fact that his shirt is way more unbuttoned than seems appropriate when meeting another company’s ceo.

he keeps talking, but it’s becoming visible how out-of-it you are, especially when he tentatively waves a hand in front of your face to get your attention, “everything okay in there?” he jokes.

“yeah! yes, i’m fine, hoseok, please continue,”

“are you sure you want me to?” he asks, voice still soft but now it’s almost teasing in its softness, and it’s startling, flustering because obviously, you don’t. your mind is everywhere but this conversation, “i can- we can do something else if you’re not too interested in what i’m saying.”

“god, i’m so sorry, hoseok-”

“don’t be, it’s okay,” he murmurs, getting up out of his chair, “well, come on, come and get me,” he murmurs cheekily, and you cautiously step out of your chair, closing the distance enough to whisper and have him hear, “look, if i’m reading this wrong, then just let me know and i’ll apologize, leave, and probably never look you in the eye again if i’m being honest,” he giggles out of nervousness, rubbing the back of his head with his hand, “but, if i am reading this right, then kiss me.”

“you’re… demanding, you know,” you complain (not really) as you pull him in fully, touching his jaw gently with the tips of your fingers as you kiss. his lips are so soft and thick that you just can’t help but pull on his bottom lip with your teeth gently. he breathes out a soft and inconspicuous moan, exactly what you wanted, and his hands find your hips as he pulls you closer, and his every movement seems to drive you insane, “how are you so…?”

he tilts his head in confusion so cutely that it stirs a certain feeling inside of you, “so what?”

“so…,” you blank before the perfect word hits you, “perfect,” he huffs, but you continue, “genuinely, you’re just so enticing, you’re so beautiful,” your lips find his neck, gentle in the way you nibble at his neck, even as he squirms in your grasp, making you simply just hold him tighter against you, “you’re so docile and passive, it’s everything i want.”

his small, gasps and breathy moans keep you going, intent on dragging more out of him, “you- can people see us on the outside of that window??”

“if they look up, maybe, but we’re on a very high floor,” you respond between small bites on his neck, and as you become less and less gentle with him, he whimpers, “hoseok,” you whisper, “if you at all need or want to stop, just let me know, okay?”

“i- uhm, okay, i don’t want you to, though,” his hands hold your waist loosely, playing with the edges of your tucked-in shirt.

you chuckle endeared at his response. he’s so sweet (both in the way he tastes and the way he acts) it makes you wonder if this man was even real, “good, because i enjoyed that whimper much more than i should have,” he breathes heavier after hearing those words, so physically affected it’s like this man was created and molded to your exact tastes, “since you brought up the window, let’s give everyone a show, hm?”

“you- uh- what? what do you mean?”

“you know what i mean, baby,” you mumble, the pet name so sickeningly sweet off your tongue that he can’t help the way he succumbs to you, “i’m going to fuck you so hard against the window,” you pull him as you take cautious steps back towards the window until your back hits the window, “i’m going to make sure the whole city knows that the lee hoseok is just my little whore.”

you take the breath out of his lungs with every word past your lips and his knees go weak at your words. you flip over to hold him against the window, finally getting him where you want him.

“is that what you want, hoseok?” you ask, but you know the answer. he nods, biting his bottom lip anxiously, “you want everyone to see you like that? that’s so naughty,” you tease.

“i- oh god-“ he exclaims with a heavy breath as you flip him over, feeling upon his body even if his shirt is in the way, letting your hands wander a little lower to grope his ass. he bites his lips, but he can’t hold in his moans for very long.

“you feel perfect against me, baby, so perfect,” you wrap your hands around him to unbutton his shirt, “let’s get this off of you, hm?” he shyly helps you shrug the fabric off of him, “don’t bother with trying to not get fingerprints on the window, they’ll be a reminder of who touched it.”

your hands resume touching him, running against his skin, feeling up every perfectly built muscle on his torso, noticing how he went from overwhelmed and sensitive to teased and desperate so quickly, noticing how hard he’s gotten. aside from moans or soft curses, he’s quiet. you keep your eyes on his facial expressions, especially when your fingernails brush his nipples, “ah-!” he cries out.

“oh? that’s enough to get a cry out of you?” you smirk, seeing him become flustered at your taunting, “then you’re really in for it, baby. i’m gonna fuck you so hard you see stars, and if we break the window?” you lean in to really whisper to him, reaching down to start unbuckling his belt, throwing it off of him, “then good. i’ll be smiling while i pay for the repairs. now, strip all the way down.”

as he obeys, you do the same, throwing off all your clothes and making an absolute mess of your office. you search through one of your drawers, “ah, there it is,” you say, grabbing a couple more things and setting them on your desk before returning to hoseok, now naked and trying to cover himself as he stands a little bit away from the window, “baby, if you’re uncomfortable with any of this, i need you to tell me,” you say you press kisses to his shoulder to soothe him a bit.

“no, no i’m okay! this is really hot, actually, i’m just-” he’s more nervous as you guide him towards the window again, and he puts him hands up against it just like before, “i’m just getting shy.”

“it’s cute, hoseok, i like it when you’re shy,” your hands massages his skin, specifically at his hip as a way to keep him in place and also comfort him, “but if that shyness becomes discomfort, tell me.”

“i- okay,” he nods, and your hands once again find his ass, and he whines just like he did before.

“you have such a nice ass, you know,” you murmur absentmindedly as you squeeze, “i mean, the rest of you is perfect too, god i just can’t take my eyes off of you.”

“i- i want to touch you too,” he whispers, “i just- you’re giving me all the attention, and you’re so pretty yourself that i just- i want to make you feel good too.”

“maybe later, hoseok,” the way your lips say his name is like a venom and he loves it, it’s all he wants to hear, “for now, just let me have you.”

“oh-okay,” he stutters, giving in so sweetly, “i’m yours, y/n, yours.”

“you’re adorable,” you coo, pressing a kiss to his shoulder again before your wet and cold fingers press against his hole. he’s not even sure he saw you put lube on them but he’s startled when he feels the touch. even still, he lets you push your fingers in to the first knuckle, keeping them still for a moment before making slow circles.

“you can- you know,” he mumbles, and you laugh at his shyness before pushing your fingers in more, watching the strain on his face with a subtle sense of pleasure, he’s just so cute like this. he groans, “oh my god, you- oh, fuck- your fingers feel so-”

“and these are just my fingers, hoseok. imagine how wrecked and fucked out you’ll be with my strap on even deeper in your ass,” you press a kiss just below his ear, taunting him with your words slightly, “i doubt you’ll even be able to stand, but i’ll keep you held up against this window so you don’t have to worry that the people down there don’t get to see how slutty you are.”

he moans with a cry as your fingers brush that spot, and his eyes shut as his cheeks go red with embarrassment.

“did that feel good?” you ask, rubbing your fingers over the spot to try and drag that same reaction out of him, and he’s just a beautiful sight. he’s trying to catch his breath, he’s failing to catch his breath. his eyes roll back as his head falls back against your shoulder, “aw, can you not handle the pleasure? it’s just my fingers, seok. you’re going to need to prepare yourself if you’re getting this messed up over just my fingers.”

“i want- i want more than just your-“ he breathes, his voice so dry and airy that it makes him sound so much more desperate, “please fuck me.”

“sure thing, doll,” you kiss the side of his neck (making him flinch at the now sensitive skin from all your bites. he’s pretty sure you left some bruises) your fingers leaving him makes him whine, but feeling the cool touch of the strap on against his ass reminds him that this wasn’t over; it hadn’t even begun. you push it in slightly, seeing the overwhelmed look

on his face almost makes you hesitate, but you get it fully inside of him before you wait to continue, keeping him still against you while he adjusts, you say, “it’s so fun to think about how someone as powerful and influential as you is, in reality, just a cute little hole for my strap,” he jaw is slacked and his eyes are shut, like he’s not even mentally present at all, “you just look so cute and dumb, it makes me want to lose all control and fuck you until you break.”

“please. please, fuck me- fuck- until i break,” he whines, even pushing back against your strap slightly, and that’s your queue to let go of that caution you’ve been holding, and just go for it. you almost pull out completely just to push back in entirely and harshly, and he cries out.

“you’re really in for it, baby,” you say as you rock your hips back and forth, finding a comfortable pace for yourself that is still intense and overwhelming for him, making sure to hit it deep, holding him close by his waist and pushing harshly, “now, don’t be shy, moan for me.”

he does, crying out moans so beautiful you’d think he has the voice of an angel. he keeps his arms against the window, above his head, and he looks down at all the people. he thinks about what they’d think if they looked up and saw him like this? would they recognize him? why did the though of being caught like this both horrify him and excite him like no other?

but all those thoughts fade away as he gets more and more worked up, only really focused on how good he feels and how he wants to feel even better, “you look so pretty and docile like this, hoseok, but you know, i bet you look even better when you’re cumming,” your hand reaches down to give some attention to his cock, and he moans even louder, even more, “i can’t wait for you to completely fall apart.”

“i- oh, fuck, fuck, god-” he stammers, getting closer, so startled by how easy he was to get this close, this fucked up, but your hand works his cock so good and you fuck him so good that he can’t help that all the stimulation is becoming too much, and he’s getting closer to the edge, “fuck, i’m gonna cum, please-”

“cum, hoseok. show me just how much of a whore for me you are,” you mumble in response, and that’s enough to push him over the edge. he arches his back, his head thrown back like before, and he cries out a loud moan as you continue to fuck him through his orgasm, keeping pace until he starts to whine instead of moan, and that’s your queue to slow down and pull out, holding him up because he might not be physically strong enough to stand if you didn’t.

“t-thank you, that was- that was amazing,” he breathes heavily as you turn him around gently, keeping him up as he catches his breath, “let me return the favor now, please.”

he seems okay enough for you to let go now, and you move to sit on your chair instead, “i mean, if you would like to eat me out until your jaw is sore, then by all means, baby: enjoy your meal.”

—

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tyonfs · 4 years

Text

under the rain.

❝ it’s hard to believe that you want me too. ❞

PAIRING ▸ boyfriend!jaemin x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, some fluff, established relationship

WARNINGS ▸ dirty talk, praise, car sex, orgasm denial, overstimulation, exhibitionism, some aftercare

WORD COUNT ▸ 1912 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ this was an impulse-write i started a few days ago but i basically wrote 75% of it after the nct end of the year party video came out. jaemin is literally sososo pretty and omg seeing the new members and xiaohenyang with the rest of nct was everything ♡ i hope you guys enjoy this !! also psa this is reposted bc tumblr tags hate me

YOU DIDN’T EXPECT TO GET CAUGHT IN THE RAIN WITH YOUR BOYFRIEND, NA JAEMIN.

The two of you were always too busy to see each other during the week. From college classes to football practice, Jaemin could barely squeeze in time for you. Rare moments like today, however, were when you could spend some quality alone time with him, away from friends and college lectures. Jaemin dedicated the entire day to you and only you, only for it to be ruined by the rainfall as you were walking back to Jaemin’s car from the movie theater.

You were drenched by the time you and Jaemin made it to the parking structure where his car was parked. Although the day had been perfect, from Jaemin taking you to your favorite coffee shop and then walking around with you downtown, you couldn’t help but feel somewhat gloomy because of the rain. You weren’t aware that you were visibly showing your exasperation until Jaemin wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling you into his warmth.

“I’m sorry,” Jaemin murmured into your neck, “I didn’t know it was going to rain.”

You shivered a bit at his touch and put your hands over his. “It’s okay. I just wish we could be together for a little longer.”

You knew he was disappointed, too. Jaemin always complained about not having the chance to see you whenever he could, so simple things such as weekend dates were precious to him. On top of that, he absolutely hated not seeing you happy. Na Jaemin didn’t exactly have all the time in the world, but he did everything in his power to not let things end on a sour note.

The rain pattered outside of the empty parking structure, so Jaemin pulled you closer and opened the door to the backseat. You weren’t very sure where this was going to go but, regardless, you let him slide into the seat and pull you onto his lap, closing the door as soon as you were inside.

“Jaemin?” you asked, voice dropping to a whisper.

“Shh.” Jaemin silenced you and slid his long fingers over your clothed clit, rousing a surprised whimper from you. He smirked at your immediate reaction and brought his lips to your ear. “You like that?”

“Fuck,” you breathed out and looked around your surroundings, a sudden spike of anxiety rising at the thought of being seen. Yet, somehow, it got you even more excited. “What if someone sees us?”

“Then let them enjoy the show.”

Jaemin was always so shameless when it came to things like this. When you met up before classes once, he tugged you into a bathroom and took you in one of the stalls; on another occasion, you visited him during football practice and he snuck away to make out with you behind the bleachers. It wasn’t like you were opposed considering you were often just as sexually frustrated as he was.

Now, you both needed this. After barely seeing your boyfriend all week, you had kept everything pent-up, and you knew he felt the same way. Jaemin ran his free hand up and down your body, feeling what he had longed for.

“You’re so gorgeous, Y/N,” Jaemin whispered, blowing air against your ear. “Absolutely fucking beautiful.”

He slipped his hand past your waistband, tracing his fingers along the v-line of your pelvis. You shivered at the feeling of his fingers grazing your skin, traveling down to rub your clit in slow, teasing circles. You rutted back against him, craving more friction, more touch. This only encouraged Jaemin to speed up his pace, fingers rolling around your tiny ball of nerves in a way that made you go crazy.

“Jaemin, we shouldn’t—ah!”

“What was that?” he cooed sickeningly, knowing the effect he had on you.

But this time, you weren’t going to comply. No matter how horny you were, you knew it wasn’t a great idea to go at it in a parking lot. You were ready to—

Jaemin slid two fingers along your soaking slit. “Do you have something to say, Y/N?”

—completely give in.

“P-please,” you begged in a whimper, “more.”

“Such a good girl.” Jaemin slipped a finger inside of you, his free hand sliding up your shirt to feel you up. He slid his finger in and out of you, getting you more wet until he asked, “Want another one?”

You nodded quickly, breath hitching as Jaemin slid another finger in. Your walls tightened around his fingers but Jaemin didn’t slow down his pace. He pumped even faster, rousing a moan from you when his long fingers hit a certain spot that made your head go fuzzy. You felt a tingling sensation all over your body, warmth knotting in your stomach. You just wanted Jaemin to finish you off, but you knew that wasn’t his style.

You let out a moan that sounded about an octave higher, and Jaemin took it as his cue to pull his fingers out. You immediately whined, rolling your hips back against his. Your boyfriend tutted at your impatience and lifted his fingers to your lips.

“Suck,” he ordered, wanting you to taste yourself. You obeyed and held his wrist to suck on his fingers, and Jaemin bit back a groan. “Such a pretty mouth.”

He pulled his fingers away from your mouth once he was satisfied and tugged at your hips. You swiveled around so that you were straddling his lap, sitting on top of Jaemin’s painful erection. He reached up to move your hair out of your face, just admiring your features for a moment. It seemed as if he was frozen in time then, as if the world was just you and him in his car.

“It’s hard to believe,” he murmured, tracing his finger along your collarbone, “that you want me too.”

“Of course I do,” you whispered back, pouting at his statement. You wished he didn’t have to feel so insecure, but you understood that it was hard when you couldn’t see him all the time. “I love you.”

Jaemin smiled at your words, mumbling an “I love you too” as he grabbed the back of your neck to pull you down for a kiss. You kissed him back fervently, allowing him access to every part of you, letting his tongue roam your mouth and his hands roam your body. When you let out a gasp at the feeling of Jaemin’s hands gripping your ass, he seized the opportunity to kiss down to your neck.

“Jaemin, please,” you whined. “I need you.”

He pulled away for a moment, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before unbuttoning his pants for you. You moved off of him to take off your pants, too, and when you came back to him, you were dying for his touch again.

You both were silent for a moment, just heavy breathing and chests rising and falling before he said, “Ride me.”

You hesitated because you had expected him to take charge tonight. Now, you were feeling a bit nervous, but you stepped up to the challenge. Nodding, you tugged down his boxers to let his cock spring out. He was so fucking hard and you were so wet and ready to take him.

“Easy,” he murmured, guiding your hips down on him. A gasp escaped your lips as he entered you, adjusting your position several times before you could take him in fully. “No matter how many times I fuck you, you’re always so tight and perfect for me.”

Jaemin groaned as your walls clenched and unclenched around him. Jaemin tucked his head into your shoulder, holding the small of your back as you moved your hips up and down on him. Your boyfriend greedily groped every possible place he could pleasure you, and when he got to pinching your nipples, you felt like your head was spinning.

You thought Jaemin was getting unsatisfied by your careful movements because he held your hips with a bruising grip and pulled you down. You moaned, curling your fingers into his hair as you bounced on his cock. Jaemin groaned into the crook of your neck, dragging his lips up to whisper words of praise into your ear.

He was rough sometimes, yes, but Jaemin loved to love, and he showed it during sex. Despite how rough he liked to get, it was the simple gestures that really showed how gentle he could be. He would kiss every inch of your skin that if he thought he held you too hard, stroke your hair while he was pounding into you, and hold you close to him because more than the sex, he just wanted you in his arms.

“Might cum—gonna cum, gonna cum,” you moaned out, nails digging into his shoulders as Jaemin fucked up into you.

He held your hips as he angled his hips again to hit that one spot that left you in the clouds. Your arm shot out to the side, attempting to grab anything for leverage, which was when you noticed how the windows started fogging up. Jaemin pressed his thumb against your clit, sending waves of pleasure that dared to make you spill over.

“Hold it for me, pretty girl,” Jaemin ordered in a gentle voice, rubbing your clit in circles as he grinded his hips up into you. “Don’t cum all over my cock just yet. I wanna do it with you.”

You closed your eyes shut, biting your lip and nodding. You let out a loud whimper each time Jaemin thrusted up into you, complete with you bouncing up and down on his cock. Jaemin’s voice was raspy, growling filthy words into your ear that made butterflies flutter in your stomach, edging you even more.

By the time you had tears streaming down your cheeks, Jaemin decided he had overstimulated you enough. He pressed down on your clit a touch harder as he circled the little ball of nerves. Paired with his intense thrusts, you were losing your hold over yourself.

Jaemin looked up at you, desperation over his face. “Go ahead, Y/N. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

You didn’t waste any time and unraveled right in front of him, crumbling into his hold right away. Jaemin groaned, filling you up to your brim, and relief washed over you when you remembered you were on the pill. But Jaemin continued fucking you through your highs, hips stuttering to a stop when you both had grounded yourselves again.

The only sounds in the car were the distant pattering of raindrops and the heavy panting from you and Jaemin. You bit your lip as you got off of him, his cum dripping down your thighs. You frowned slightly at the mess because you knew he had nothing to clean it off with.

Jaemin looked solemn for a moment when you got off his lap. You both knew that once you two got back to your college campus, this dream would end and you would get back to the cold reality of schoolwork and club activities.

He held your hand, rubbing his thumb over the soft skin. “Will you stay the night?” he asked gently. “I want cuddles.”

You smiled at his words. “Of course.”

It was true that you and Jaemin rarely had time to see each other recently, but right now, under the pouring rain, it didn’t matter because you had each other.

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