#HE DID NOT TRAIN HIS ASS OFF FOR YOU TO DO THIS TO HIM
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its-weeping · 2 days ago
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— 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐗 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒. | suna rintaro
cw. mdni, slight making out, hickey, pet name (pretty girl), suna is being a tease, dry humping, cursing
notes. 𐙚⋆°. been a while hehe. anyways, here's a lil suna draft!
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it's been a while since you felt his skin on yours, since he's been able to properly hold you. five days or perhaps six? the days oddly bled together as suna's workload piled up.
practice games, training, your boyfriend couldn't get a day off and in turn you missed him— missed how he would always press a kiss on your lips before leaving for the day. nowadays it was all fleeting touches and small pecks on your temple.
this pent up sexual frustration was quickly becoming a problem, for both of you. your boyfriend knew you were pent up and he couldn't deny he was too. but despite his nearing breaking point, he kept his composure, showed fortitude as suna honestly wanted to see just how long you could last.
it's then when you bid him goodbye as you always did whenever he left for practice, that suna seemed to recognize a sense of want— something telling him that you wanted more of it badly. and when your tongue slipped into his mouth, deepening the kiss, suna had to stop himself.
"careful now," he mumbles, breath hot against your face when he pulls away. you're looking at him with half lidded eyes, face flushed and wanting.
suna tilts his head, keeping an innocent display while he resists a smirk, "what's up with you?"
you let out a huff and lean in but he draws back slightly, enough to leave you pouting.
"i just.. wanted to show you some love." you utter and give a shameless shrug. suna hums as his hands slide down your hips, then your lower back, quickly finding your ass. he gives it a squeeze and you gasp and dig your fingers into his shoulders.
"show me some love, huh?" he grins, cock twitching at the mere thought and he can't help but stare at your now exposed neck when you tilt your head up to meet his eyes.
he knows your doing it on purpose, to rattle him, break him, make him give into his desires. and shit he's already fallen so deep into your trap because then he's pressing open mouth kisses along your jawline, exploring further down to your collarbone. you mewl at the sensation, the warm, wet muscle was sucking and licking at your skin and god it feel so good having been so long.
suna chuckles, it vibrates against your skin—he's found your pulse point and you're whimpering when he begins biting the area. he's got a leg shoved in between your thighs already and you give a shameless moan when it nudges your cunt.
suck. lick. bite. repeat. suna only leans back after a deep reddening mark appears on your neck. his eyes are clouded, his breath is heavy, yet he pulls away and adjusts himself soundly.
"i'm gonna be late to practice, pretty girl."
he couldn't give in first.
"rin," you practically whisper in worship, "please."
you're laying your stomach flat on his, arching up as an invitation and suna can just feel your tits squeezing against his broad chest. and he's contemplating it— that you know because he's kneading the swell of your ass and it's getting your panties all the more soaked with how your cunt is begging for attention.
fuck, was he torturing you?
with how long suna was constricting his movements to just groping you, you would have thought he was doing it on purpose.
desperation was seeping out from all over you, a painful, throbbing desperation that had you ramming your clothed pussy onto suna's thigh, pinching your own together around him to try and relieve yourself. your boyfriend makes a noise at this, a low, unsteady sort of a noise in surprise when he feels you slowly start to grind on him.
suna's eyes are observing you, your hurried movements and how you're beginning to influence him, the bulge in his shorts making it all the more obvious. his eyes shift to the clock behind you, twenty minutes— twenty minutes until he really has to leave.
goddamnit, okay.
much like a fox ready to pounce on its prey, suna is fucking hungry.
"one round. that's it. but– don't think when i get back you aren't getting fucked till dawn."
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product of its-weeping ;༊ | do not plagiarize or translate.
post-notes. send requests pls i wanna start writing again 🙁 (there's a list of fandoms i can write for on my pinned!)
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the-owl-tree · 2 days ago
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Is there a cat who you think had an unjustified death that you’d redo to be more satisfying or just undo the death entirely?
Sandstorm and Leafpool's deaths are the first and worst offenders that come to mind. Bumble is an obvious one, but I'll let Bumble's Official Representative tell you about how awful her death is.
Sandstorm dies by an infected wound, unremarkably with only her grandson around so that her death can motivate him and solely him. This was done A) so that they could pad out the SkyClan/Kin twist for the readers who hadn't read Firestar's Quest or any of the SkyClan books and B) in Kate's words to "thin the crowd":
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And like, I get it, thin the crowd, ThunderClan is huge...but that's an arc one major character, that's Sandstorm. This is a book, a narrative, and Sandstorm essentially dying just so her lame ass grandson can get some short-lived inspiration is a bad ending to this character's story. It's just disrespectful to such a major character and it shows how little the authors think of their female cast, even one as prominent and important as Sandstorm. It was done solely for Alderheart's arc and it's honestly not even satisfying in that regard. It's bad writing.
Mind you, the Kin twist doesn't even last that long, any reader can smell BS a mile away. There's no reason Sandstorm couldn't have gone out fighting, pretending she was playing along before revealing the truth. Bad writing all around, disrespectful to the character and her legacy, just shows off how disposable the female cast is to the authors if it means giving their male protags a temporary arc boost.
Leafpool dies in Squirrelflight's Hope, a book in which you think will center the sisters in the narrative, as that's what the prologue sets up, but is actually about Squirrelflight and Bramblestar's awful relationship drama. She dies in a rockfall trying to save Moonlight, gets sent to StarClan where she is berated and yelled at and nearly sent to the Dark Forest before accepting her death. Afterwards, her children take shots at her once she's dead, awesome.
Like there's bleach in the wound when it comes to Leafpool's death. She is not killed in a mainline series, she's killed in someone else's super edition in which she is not even the focal part of the plot! Her own death is not even about her, it is a quick berating of Leafpool before it turns to Squirrelflight (and mind you, Squirrelflight's trial also sucks, it's bad the narrative seems to think she's done something wrong, but there's a big difference between how the two are treated). At her own funeral, Jayfeather takes a snipe at her for, uh, lying to protect him and blames Hollyleaf's death on her:
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what does this mean?? what are you talking about??? she tried to kill leafpool over the lie, she died protecting ivypool????
And then!! That's not even the end of it!! Crowfeather, the cat who abused his son to the point it drove him to train in cat hell, blamed it on Nightcloud, took continuous shots at Leafpool purely to hurt her, and more not only gets an entire super edition in which everyone, including his dead mommy and his dead crush, comes down to teach him how to be nicies, the narrative rewards this development with deputyship. He is a light in the mist, he reconciles with his son, and he now continues to torment me with his continued relevance in the current arc (do not @ me i know and it hurts).
Onestar, a character with far more autonomy in what he had done, a leader with a law that essentially allowed him to be a dictator with no resistance just, uh, has to think really hard on his life for his trial. He just reflects on his life and Tallstar, idk after fucking off for five minutes is like "oh yeah you feel good now about what you did? yeah okay come on in bro :)"
The books are so painfully uninterested in Leafpool beyond reminding the reader of how awful they think giving her children a safe life was. She dies in a book that's not about her, given a trial when does who have done more get less, and her ex, her counterpart in a sense, is consistently given an insane amount of favoritism in how he's constantly offered chances to be angry, be forgiven, reconcile, and more. There is a massive difference in the autonomy (in-universe) that Leafpool is given versus her sister or Crowfeather or Brambleclaw.
There's probably more that I could find, Warriors looooves anticlimactic fridgings for its female cast, but these two came to my mind first. Character death in a series like this is good, but the authors are so...boring, offensively so, in how little they want to do cool and meaningful deaths with some of their long-lasting and impactful characters. Leafpool drives multiple arcs, she is the center of them, and yet they are so painfully uninterested in her. Sandstorm has been there since book one, she is a legacy character. Graystripe dies at the claws of the big bad in TBC, Ravenpaw is given an entire book about his passing, Dustpelt dies protecting his Clan in Bramblestorm's Storm. Sandstorm dies of an infection, to thin the cast (ineffectively) and give her grandson temporary angst.
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lostintransist · 3 days ago
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The Real Problem With The Trolley
Coffee Shop Meet Cute | Part 3
Part 1 here.
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Kyle, as he introduced himself all those weeks ago, took all of twenty minutes to decipher your phone number and send a text to you.
>Would have taken me longer, but humming the ABCs tipped me off.
You read the message from the drop-down menu, not daring to open it and let him know you’ve seen it.
You weren’t bold. Kyle was gorgeous, and frankly, you were plain. You were pleased to be plain, let that not be misunderstood. Avoiding some of the nastier interactions with men but also never being singled out at the club or at a party would always be the curse/blessing of your face. Thinking it over you decide that stereotypes exist for a reason and that you would treat this like a woman in every port kind of situation until proven otherwise. You would chat with him and discuss philosophy and life but would let it go no further than friendship.
>Where did you learn to sign?
His second message appeared while you had been trapped in your thoughts. Taking a deep breath as if you were about to plunge into an icy lake you click reply from the menu.
<Something about the ABCs requires me to hum no matter how old I get. And I learned at uni. HBU?
When the message and reply box disappear you tuck the phone into your pocket and focus on the job you are being paid for. The buzz against your ass makes you jump. Quick bastard replied already. Rolling your eyes you ignore the tug in your brain to check your phone. You refused to get reprimanded for ‘looking at your phone excessively on shift’. Your manager was an asshole who couldn’t cut it at corporate and got sent back down to manage a store.
The shift passed in the slowness that only a retail job can manage. The journey home, thankfully just a single bus ride, gave you time to dip into Kyle’s messages. You cleared chats and videos from friends before opening his.
>Learned with the rest of my team. We use sign a lot on jobs and during training to communicate.
>Why do you study philosophy? Sounds like you’ve finished uni at this point.
A few hours later he sent another message.
>What are your thoughts on the trolley problem?
You reply to his messages out of order but figure if he isn’t smart enough to match them up keeping up a text chain would be harder than you cared for.
<I think the trolley problem misses the big questions.
<I am done with uni, graduated last spring but can’t find a job that cares about the paper I paid for.
< I like using my brain, feels like a good way to fight back against all the evil I see.
His reply comes in as you are stepping into the flat you share with your three other roommates.
>What questions should we be asking about the trolley problem?
You pause after shutting and locking the front door, shoes, and bag still on.
<First off who the hell owns these tracks? Secondly, how the hell did so many people get tied to them? Don’t tracks get checked regularly for safety?
You slip off both shoes and fire off one more message.
<It seems like we are so focused on who gets to live or die in the trolley problem that we aren’t asking who put us in that situation in the first place.
With that,t you lock your phone and set about the task of showering and finding something to eat after your long ass day.
Coffee Masterlist | Masterlist
@soldierservant I didn't know if I was going to make more of this but since I did I figured I would tag you once and if you want to get notified when more of these drop you LMK.
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merlincmgirl · 2 days ago
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Jealousy - Jango Fett x FReader - NSFW
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Summary: When Jango catches his clones looking at you and flirting with you, he decides to remind them that you belong to him. Prime is the one who gets nice things.
Characters: Jango, Fox, Cody, Clone Cadets
Pairing: Jango Fett x F!Reader
Word Count: 5,898
Warnings: biting, marking, oral (male receiving), thigh riding, fingering, spanking, PinV sex, dom Jango, possessive!Jango, mentions of breeding, dirty talk, derogatory terms, Jango does not respect his clones
Author's Note: This was the first fic of this collection that I started writing, and it holds a special place in my heart. It feels so nice to end this with the one and only. He's a bit of an asshole in this, but after everything that Jango has gone through in his life, he's allowed to have some issues.
Translations:
Manda - the state of being Mandalorian in mind, body and spirit
ner mesh'la riddur - my beautiful spouse
riddur - spouse
Jango wasn’t blind. He was very aware of his clones and how they seemed to revolve around you wherever you went. A part of him was amused as he watched his carbon copies fawn over you. His love for you must be engrained into his DNA, a part of him just like his limbs or his sense of manda. He had loved you for years, way before he had been offered this role by Tyrannus, and he was pleased that you had accepted his offer to follow him to Kamino to build an army of clones for the Republic.
Another part of him hated it. It caused something dark and ugly to curl underneath his breast bone every time one of his clones looked at you in a way that you only received from him. Their eyes followed you when you walked by, they offered you help even when you were doing nothing. He had even seen one of his copies blush heavily at making you laugh and had to be caught by his batch mates when you had left. Jango had made sure that the clone was doing suicide runs around the whole of the Kamino base. Twice.
No. If he had his way, you wouldn’t interact with them at all. He’d keep you well away from their leering looks and pathetic flirtation attempts. Keep you in your private quarters, round with child and being doted on by him. But he was powerless to say no to you, especially when you complained of being bored whenever Boba was sent to his classes and he was training the clones along with the Cuy’val Dar. So he had agreed to allow you to help, mostly becoming an ambassador between himself and the long necks. He hated dealing with them, and you normally had the grace and patience to do so in his stead.
So as he watched his clones – from one of the Commander batches he was sure – speak with you in the hangar, he couldn’t help but clench his fist and feel a tight, burning feeling in his chest. You were smiling at whatever Kote and Fox were saying, and they were returning your kindness in full force. He was sure that Fox was leaning in closer to you.
“CC-2224, CC-1010, why are you not in your classes? I didn’t realise that Alpha-17 allowed his men to slack off whenever they felt like it” Jango’s voice boomed in the hangar. The two clones in front of you stiffened and quickly fell into attention and saluted to him. Guilt swirled in you, not wanting the troopers to get into trouble because of something you did.
“Jango, I was just asking them to help carry the deliveries I received to our rooms. It’s my fault they were running late” you excused, smiling softly at your riddur.
Jango didn’t say anything, but kept his eyes trained on his clones in front of him. Neither had relaxed their position, their obedience engrained and trained into them. Their eyes were fixed at a point over his shoulder as he stepped closer towards you. Even after all these years with you, he still savoured the way you relaxed into him as soon as he was close enough to do so. It was like you found safety only in his arms. Resting a hand on your lower stomach, he tugged you slightly against his front. Your ass pressed into the curve of his hip.
Letting out a little gasp, you couldn’t help but blush at Jango’s touch. He was normally quite reserved when you two were in company, preferring to not highlight his weakness to others. Wanting to keep you away from any harm or danger. Your noise didn’t go unheard, because you could see both troopers cheeks start turning red.
“Then what are you still doing here, troopers? You have your orders” Jango demanded, hard gaze boring into them.
“Yes, Prime, Sir!” they both chorused, refusing to look at either you or Jango. Instantly the two troopers in front of your snapped into movement, it was like they had suddenly been released from something that had kept them frozen and paralysed to the spot. Straight away they began to move to the crates that held your supplies and deliveries that had been imported from around the galaxy.
Sighing at your husband’s heavy and stern touch with the troopers, you shook your head and stepped away from him. “Kote, Fox, thank you for helping me with them. It’s very much appreciated, I’ll be sure to inform Alpha-17 of how helpful his men are and why they were late” I said, sending them a small thankful smile.
“Of course ma’am” Kote nodded, before almost shoving his brother and his crate out of the door in front of him.
“You don’t have to be soft with them” Jango stated, hooking a finger into your belt and dragging you back towards him.
Stumbling slightly as you landed against his front, you turned in his arms, sliding your hands over his chest plate and around his neck, your fingers instantly becoming entwined into the small curls at the back of his neck. “And you don’t have to be so hard on them, my love” you reminded, heart aching at the training that the clones had to go through. Seeing his mouth open to defend the training and cloning process once more, you placed your hand over his mouth, sighing softly. “I know, they’re trained soldiers meant for the Republic. I don’t want to argue with you about this again” you said softly, resting your forehead against his.
Jango slid his arms around your waist, tugging you even closer to him as you shared a Kedable kiss with him, sharing your breaths with him, the life that flowed through you and into him. He couldn’t help but want to bring you even closer, to feel your skin pressed against his, to hear your moans and gasps echo in his ears as he took such good care of you. Running a hand up the span of your back, he allowed himself to feel your warmth as he nuzzled his nose into yours. Reaching it’s target destination, his hand gripped the back of your neck, tilting your head up to meet his in a soft, barely there teasing kiss.
“You know, riddur, those clones see you as their savoir. You’re the one that they turn and watch whenever you walk by. The one that they all clamber to get even a moment of your attention” Jango whispered, laying gentle kisses from the corner of your lips, across your jaw and to the sensitive spot just underneath your ear. He enjoyed the way you shivered at the feel of his hot breath against you, sending goosebumps erupting over your skin.
“It’s because I’m one of the only women of their species on this planet” you rolled your eyes, dismissing his words. The clones had never interacted with a woman outside of their trainers, it was only natural they would want to speak with you and be close to you.
He hummed out a negative, shaking his head slightly, causing your jaw to tingle at the feel of his stubble brushing against you. “Because you’re part of me, loving you is written into my DNA” he breathed, amused at the shiver that ran through you at the feel of his warm breath caressing your ear.
You were momentarily stunned by his words, surprised at their softness. Your breath caught in your throat and you felt your heart pound a little harder as you gripped onto his chest plate tighter, not wanting to let go.
“But you’re mine, they don’t get to have you” he claimed, the hand on the back of your neck tightening once more as his other came up to cup your throat. Jango didn’t squeeze, just rested it there as he guided your face up to his, looking in your eyes as they dilated slightly with the desire he was building inside of you.
Mouth suddenly going dry at his words, you could only nod and wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him even closer to you. It wasn’t a secret that Jango was mostly indifferent to his clones, if not actively thought of them as canon fodder, but he had never been outright jealous of them before. You had only been talking with Kote and Fox briefly, what had brought this on?
“What do they call me, riddur?” he purred against your neck, laying kisses along the delicate skin as he kept the pressure light.
He was teasing you, drawing this out longer than he normally would. You knew that he was going to make you beg for him, he seemed in that kind of mood today. What had happened between this morning where he had kissed you and Boba goodbye at breakfast to now? The thought quickly fled your brain as you felt a warning squeeze around your throat. Oh, he wanted an answer.
“Prime, they call you Prime” you murmured, voice shaking slightly as you tried to find the words he wanted.
“That’s right, I’m Prime. The original, the first one, the most important” he confirmed, teeth beginning to graze against the hollow of your throat.
“Jango, you have nothing to prove – to anyone – least of all me” you reminded, tilting your head back slightly to give him more room. He was starting to become firmer in his kisses, working marks and bruises on your neck that you would display with pride. Carding a hand through his curls to try and soothe the agitation in him, you gasped as he nipped at your skin.
“Oh ner mesh’la riddur, I’m not proving anything, just giving them a little reminder” he smirked, pulling back to admire the bruises that was already starting to blossom on your neck.
The intoxicating atmosphere between you two was cut short however, as the door pinged, signalling it was opening. Stiffening, you went to step away from Jango, to a more respectable distance before his arms gripped tightly to your waist, keeping you pinned against his front. There was no hope of breaking his hold, it felt like durasteel was wrapped around you.
Blushing heavily at being caught in a compromising position, you risked a glance up to see who had disturbed you. It was Kote and Fox. No doubt coming back to collect the rest of the crates that was in the hangar. They stopped, eyes widening as they spotted you and Jango.
“2224, 1010, you will stand outside and keep watch” Jango ordered sharply, eyes catching the slight tinge of rouge on their cheeks at his words and the implications of them. Satisfied that this would no doubt spread through the ranks of the clones once he was finished with you, he dismissed them with a nod to the door.
You however, had never felt so exposed, like all your nerve endings were on fire at what Jango wanted to do. Embarrassment warred with the want to also have him fuck you for everyone to see and hear. You weren’t a stranger to the looks that Jango accumulated when he walked around the base from some in the Cuy’val Dar. This would no doubt spread like wild fire among everyone. You felt pride curl up in your chest at the thought that everyone would know just how much Jango adored you and wanted you, enough to not even wait to get back to your quarters it would seem.
As the door shut behind them, Jango scooped you up into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you over to the crate nearest said doors. You groaned at the feel of his codpiece pressing into the apex of your thighs, rubbing against you with every step that he took. He settled you back on your feet and you couldn’t help but raise a judgemental eyebrow at him. Did he think he was bring subtle? Bringing you close to the door so everyone could hear.
“Strip, I don’t think you’d want me to rip your pretty clothes when the time comes to walk back to our rooms” he instructed, tugging on the neckline of your shirt.
“Didn’t think you would mind, riddur. I half expected you to want to carry me through the halls naked” you scoffed, shaking your head at him affectionately as you began to pull your shirt up over your head. As you threw it off, a hand snapped up to grip your jaw firmly, pressure making your lips part and a small whine to escape at the rough hold. Heat raced through you at that, and you weren’t surprised to feel your cheeks redden a little more.
“If I wanted everyone to see what you looked like, I would have told them to stay and watch as you screamed on my cock. But only I get to see that. Not those lab rats” he spat out, eyes heated as he stared down into your own.
Taking in a shaky breath, you nodded your understanding as heat flooded through you. Clenching your thighs to ease the pressure that was building behind your clit, your hands began to reach for your flight pants and shove them down over your hips until they pooled on the floor at your feet. Stepping out of them and your boots, you flicked them away from you, not bothering to look as you kept your eyes on your riddur.
“Good girl, you look so beautiful, my perfect riddur” he praised, hand coming up to your back to undo the chest band that kept your breasts hidden from view.
Instantly the cold air in the hangar hit your form, your nipples already pebbling and hardening under the cool and windy weather of Kamino. Stifling a moan at the feel of them hardening, you bit your lip and widened your legs a little.
Jango’s hand came up to tweak at your nipple, enjoying the pained gasp that you let out at his touch. He couldn’t get enough of your breasts, could imagine them swelling up and filling with milk when you decided to give him another child. The thought had him hardening even further in his compression suit and his codpiece was becoming even more uncomfortable.
“Go on, mesh’la, get me nice and ready to fuck your needy little hole” he ordered, hands coming to your shoulder to push you onto your knees in front of him.
Unable to help the moan that escaped you as you were trapped between his broad, strong body and the crate at your back, you spread your thighs as you got down onto your knees in front of him. With a lot of practice, you deftly undid the codpiece, dropping it to the side of you with a quiet thud of metal against metal.
You could see the bulge pressing against his compression suit and couldn’t help yourself as you pressed a soft kiss against the straining fabric.
“Fuck! Sweetheart! You’re going to kill me” he groaned, fingers trailing up from your shoulders to your neck.
Giggling softly at the tickling sensation, you worked to undo his pants, pushing them down off his hips enough for his cock to spring up. His cock was fully hard, already leaking pre-cum from the tip. He was a nice size and thick, you knew you would be feeling him tomorrow.
He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, tugging it down slightly and letting out a muffled moan. “Open up, sweetheart” he instructed, hooking his thumb into your mouth to guide it open. Your hands clenched on your thighs, as you felt your pussy clench around nothing. God you couldn’t wait to take him into your mouth, to taste him as he pushed in with every roll of his hips.
Keeping your teeth out of the way, and your tongue out, Jango tapped the head of his cock onto your tongue before pushing into your mouth. The musky, salty taste of him had you moaning, legs spreading just a bit wider as he pushed himself even further into your mouth. You breathed through your nose, keeping your breathing calm as you lathed the underside of his cock with your tongue.
“Good girl, your mouth feels so good. So perfect around my cock” he grunted, hand coming to slide into your hair and tugging slightly on the strands.
As you got used to the feel of him once more pressed inside of you, resting in your mouth, you gave his thigh two taps with your fingers. The sign between you that he could continue.
“Stay there” he muttered, fingers carding through your hair before he tightened his grip on them. You nodded, knowing what he wanted and relaxing your throat muscles even further. He kept a reassuring hand on your cheek as he pushed even further into your mouth until your nose was pressed to the wiry, course hair at the bottom of his cock. “Ohh, good girl, taking all of me in your throat. Just relax, I’ll let you breathe in a second” he groaned, feeling the muscles spasm around his cock for a moment before you relaxed, breathing through your nose and sending fluttering tingles around his base.
Your hands gripped onto his sturdy thighs, eyes watering as you kept him in your mouth and waited for him to move. He was heavy in your mouth, leaving you no room to move or do anything but accept him. Squeezing your eyes shut, you whined as you fought against the urge to push him away or move.
Finally, he pulled out, just enough for you to suck air into your lungs before he thrust back in sharply, keeping that tight grip on your hair. He began fucking your face in earnest, the soft, gagging sounds as he hit the back of your throat rung in the empty room. You dug your nails into the back of his thighs, pulling him even closer to you. You wanted as much as him in your mouth as he possibly could.
“Fuck, what a little whore you are, mesh’la. Even with my whole cock in your mouth, it’s still not enough, you still need more” he taunted, brushing a tear off your cheek as he looked down at your flushed face. He took in how your mouth was stretched around his thick cock, how your cheeks were red from your tears and the lust flowing through you. Your eyes were all glazed and glassy as he fucked every thought out of your head.
You tried to moan your agreement but all it came out as was muffled and hidden behind the rough slap of his balls against your chin. You wanted to cry at the feel of arousal that slid from your clenching opening. Unable to resist, you slipped your hand between your thighs and into your panties.
However, it seemed like he had a sixth sense when it came to you, Jango knew exactly what you were trying to do because he flicked your hand away with a low growl; stepping even further into your spread legs and nudging them even wider so that you got no relief from the pressure that was building in your core.
“You only cum on my fingers, on my cock. What a little slut you are, getting wet and desperate just from your riddur fucking your mouth” he snapped, tugging harshly on your hair and making you cry out around his cock. He gave a few more rough rolls of his hips before he was dragging you off his cock, leaving you gasping and trying to work as much air into your lungs as possible. Thick lines of saliva connected your mouth to his cock before Jango broke them.
Hands lifted you up and settled you against him. He brushed your sweaty, strands of hair away from your face and wiped away your tears. “Shh, you did so well for me mesh’la. Taking my cock into your wonderful mouth” he cooed, shushing your unsteady breaths and kissing your cheeks. “But I’m not finished with you yet” he smirked, twisting you both around until he was sitting down on the edge of the crate behind you.
You moaned loudly as he dragged your form up his thigh plate, the ridged metal was cool against your heated skin and pressed just right between your folds and against your clit. “Jango!” you pleaded, closing your eyes as you rested against his chest.
“I know, I know riddur. I want you to ride my thigh, want you to cum on it so that everyone can see your release dripping down the metal” he chuckled mockingly, cupping your cheeks to bring you in for a passionate kiss. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your cries as you began to rock your hips against his thigh plate. He took over all of your senses as you blossomed under his touch and kisses, letting him stoke the fire that was already building inside of you.
The groove of his thigh plate pressed perfectly against your folds, but the smoothness of the metal restricted what friction you could get from it. It was maddening, each movement of your hips enough to build you up to your peak but never threw you over it.
From the smirk on his face as he watched you ride his thigh, Jango knew. The bastard!
“Come on, mesh’la, want to see you cum for me and then I promise I’ll fuck you so good, everyone on this planet will know you’re mine” he swore, sliding his fingers up your thighs and teasingly reaching the apex of your thighs before pulling away. He chuckled at your growl of frustration.
“Jango! Please!” you whined, uncaring about how loud you were being now, or the clones outside the door. You just wanted to cum, feel the pleasure rush through you as Jango kept touching you.
“My poor riddur, is this not enough? Do you need more?” he murmured mockingly sweet, laying kisses along your collarbone, his stubble scratching deliciously against you. He grazed his teeth against the thin skin before sinking his teeth into you, making sure to leave a mark that others would see later.
“Yes! Please Jango! You know I do, please!” you cried, rolling your hips against the groove, anything to provide you some kind of stimulation to send you over the edge.
He sighed heavily, seemingly put out that you weren’t following his demands. “Very well, mesh’la, I suppose I could help you” he smirked, hands coming to land on your hips and raising you up. He shushed your tired whines before gathering the slick that was covering your thighs and his cuisse plate. “You’re soaking, riddur. All this from just sucking cock and riding my thigh. What a sweet little whore you are for me. I think you deserve a reward” he purred filthily into your ear.
You shivered from the warm breath that caressed your sensitive skin and the way he was pressed against you. Before you could reply however, Jango had pushed in two of his thick fingers into your dripping cunt. Finally being filled and stretched around him had you clenching down around his fingers, hips rocking forward as you let out a loud moan.
That was exactly what you needed as you began to ride his fingers, desperate to get to the edge of completion that he had you teetering on moments ago. As he curled them just right, searching for that spot inside of you that made your brain short circuit, you raised your hips higher, slamming them down on his hand with a loud squelching noise. Any other time you’d be embarrassed about how wet you were for this man, but the way Jango was playing you and your body had you crying out for more.
The coil in your stomach was tightening as you felt your cunt clench even tighter around the fingers inside of you.
“Good girl, can feel you cyar’ika… so tight. Gonna be a good girl for me and cum?” he groaned, thumb beginning to circle your swollen bud of nerves, pushing you closer and closer to your peak. You nodded, squeezing and digging your nails into his shoulders.
“Then cum for me!”
You shattered around him, a loud cry of his name echoing around the hangar as you shook, collapsing against his chest as you both panted heavily. You could feel his hard length press against your stomach as you tried to find words to assure him you would take care of him just as soon as you regained the use of your limbs.
“Perfect for me, ner mesh’la riddur” he whispered in Mando’a, affection laced in his voice. He ran a soothing hand up and down your back, waiting for you to settle once more.
He pulled his fingers out, kissing your cheeks as he did so. When you pulled back to look at him, he kept his gaze on yours before slipping his fingers into his mouth. The moan he let out had you clenching your thighs around his, mouth falling open at just how hot he looked in this moment. Bronzed skin shiny with a light layer of sweat, dark curls beginning to stick to his temples as he sucked your release off his fingers. He ran his tongue through the gap, making sure to put on a show for you, showing just how much he loved the taste of you.
Chuckling, he lifted you up off him and turned you both around until he had you bent over the crate that you two had been leaning on. He let out an appreciative noise as he viewed your ass, squeezing your cheeks and pulling them apart.
You whimpered, feeling even more heat rush to your face at the thought of being so on display for him. Jango had seen every part of you, tasted and touched every inch of you but it still embarrassed you at how much he enjoyed taking you in.
“As delicious as you are, riddur. I can’t wait to fuck you. Want everyone to know just how well I can fuck you. They might be my clones but only I get to have you” he growled, leaning forward to press kisses up your spine before sucking a bruise onto the back of your neck. When he was satisfied at how you writhed beneath him, he pulled back but not before giving you a hard spank that landed solidly against your cheek.
The flare of pain only heightened your pleasure as you groaned, pushing your hips back to seek his.
“When I get you back to our rooms, I’m going to eat you out for hours. Gonna make you cum so many times on my face, I won’t ever forget the taste of you” he promised, running his fingers through your folds before spreading your arousal onto his cock.
“Jango, come on! Need you inside me, please” you urged him, wiggling your hips to try and entice him to fuck you.
But Jango was a stubborn bastard and all he did was chuckle, holding his cock and pushing the tip through your folds and against your clit. “You can beg sweeter than that” he murmured, hearing you groan in frustration at that.
And yes, Jango may know how to tease you and work you up into madness, but you knew all his tricks as well. And you weren’t against using them against him.
“Please riddur, my strong, brave husband. Let everyone know that I’m yours” you pleaded, biting your lip as you pushed back enough to feel him nudge against your clit once more. “Please… want you to fuck me” you whimpered, feeling the flare of heat flood through you at that.
Jango let out a loud primal snarl before he was thrusting into you in one smooth motion, holding you still as you let out a loud cry, fingers digging into the crate beneath you.
“That what you wanted? Huh, mesh’la? Want to feel me inside you, stretching out this sweet little cunt?” he hissed, gritting his teeth at the feel of your hot, tight walls squeezing and spasming around him as you got used to his cock. His hands landed on your hips, keeping you both still until you were both ready for him to move.
“Fuck! Can feel you in my throat!” you gasped, widening your legs slightly before moaning as he sunk deeper into you. “Jango!” you shouted, reaching back to cover his hand with your own. He entwined your fingers, rubbing small circles with the other one into your hip. Nodding, you tapped out your signal to go and that was all it took for Jango to fuck the life out of you.
He pulled back, cock dragging along your walls before slamming back into you, forcing the air out of your lungs as you scrambled to keep hold of the crate. His sharp thrust sent you further along the rough surface, his animalistic grunts filling the room along with the wet noise as your cunt welcomed him back in with every thrust.
Thoughts of keeping quiet fled your brain, all you could think about was Jango and how good he felt as he pinned you down and fucked you.
It felt like he was carving a place for himself inside of you, stretching and filling you in ways that you didn’t think you would ever become used to. Slick flooded around him, and you buried your face into the crook of your arm, unable to stop the loud moans and cries falling from your lips.
“So good, you’re gushing mesh’la. Is this what you needed? A nice, hard fuck to remind you that you’re mine. That you’re my riddur, my love” he chuckled filthily, hand travelling up your spine and to the nape of your neck. He squeezed it slightly, keeping you bent over for him as he railed into you.
He loved you like this, able to see your ass bounce around his cock. The sounds you let out was driving him closer to his own completion, the soft cries and moans of his name enough to have his balls tightening. He groaned against your back leaving a deceptively soft kiss to your shoulder compared to the harsh thrusts of his cock inside of you.
“That’s it, mesh’la. This little cunt was made for me. Who else could fuck you like this, huh?” he snarled, snapping his hips into yours. He didn’t give you a chance to reply, pulling you off the crate and to the floor. Arranging you on your knees, he tugged your hips back and slammed back into you, sending you wailing into the air as you threw your head back. His cock sinking deeper into you with this new position, balls hitting your clit as he fucked you into the floor.
A loud smack filled the air as he spanked your ass.
“I asked you a question!”
“You! Only you! Oh!”
“That’s right, riddur. Only me, only I can see you like this, only I can make you feel this good” he growled, reaching around your front to rub at your clit.
Unable to help it, your legs shook from the waves of pleasure that was washing over you, body quivering as Jango tilted his hips slightly to hit you at a different angle. Just as you were about to shatter around him, pushed over the edge, he pulled his fingers away from your bundle of nerves.
“Nooo! Jango, please! Please!” you begged, almost sobbing as he denied you your release.
“You’re mine!” he snarled out, squeezing your hips so hard you were sure they would be bruised tomorrow.
You nodded, words getting caught in your throat as he thrust harder into you. It felt like he was staking his claim over you, not allowing you or anyone close by to forget that.
It seemed your silence wasn’t what he wanted though, as he tangled his hand in your hair and pulled up sharply, arching your back and making you cry out, hips pushed even more into his rolling ones.
“Say it riddur!” he ordered, pinching your nipple, “say it and then you can cum.”
“I’m yours” you screamed out, not caring about who heard just as long as you could cum.
“Good girl, my good, sweet girl” he praised, hand coming down to rub at your clit.
You couldn’t stop the cry of his name as you came around his cock, clenching and squeezing him as you were forced over the edge, pleasure wracking through your trembling body. Jango couldn’t stop as his hips stuttered, thrusting two, three more times before he released his load inside of you, your name tumbling loudly from his lips.
Jango tried not to collapse on top of you, instead angling his body to the side and pulling you into his arms. The cold durasteel floor wasn’t comfortable, and he tugged you onto his chest so that you were a bit warmer and cosier against him.
Once your breaths had calmed down, and you were nuzzled into the crook of Jango’s neck, you let out a little giggle. “You didn’t even undress” you reminded him, smiling into the sweaty skin beneath you.
“Sorry, mesh’la. I promise you can undress me as much as you want when we get back to our rooms” he chuckled, wrapping his arms even tighter around you.
“Good, but I think I need a shower. I’m starting to feel sticky” you grimaced, feeling his softened cock slip out of you and his release trickle down. You pushed yourself up from his chest, taking a look at the beautiful man beneath your hands. However, Jango couldn’t hide the smug look from you. Whacking his chest you glared playfully at him. “You’re not the one that’s going to be dripping all the way back” you grouched, shaking your head at him.
“Oh mesh’la, don’t talk like that, you’ll make me want to start round 2” he smirked, tugging you back down to his chest.
“No way! You’re going to carry me back to our rooms. I don’t think my legs are going to work after that” you told him, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his lips.
“Of course, riddur” he agreed readily, eager to have you in his arms.
Frowning, you cupped his cheek, looking down into his beautiful chestnut eyes. “You know you’re the only man for me, right? No matter if these men share your face, they never will be you” you reminded him softly, wanting to reassure him after all this.
“I know love, I know. I’ve never doubted you” he assured, cupping your face and bringing your foreheads together. He took in a few deep breaths, committing you to his memory once more before pulling away with a small smile. “Now, lets get you dressed. I believe we should have the next hour or so to ourselves” he grinned, pinching your side and laughing at your squeal of surprise.
“Good! Now go and dismiss those troopers! I want my riddur all to myself” you ordered, reaching for your discarded clothes. His laughter warmed the cool room as he went to do what he was told.
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koji-haru · 15 hours ago
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Misperceptions
[Sorry, I'm late!! But here's your holiday present @evilmenshoe80!! I hope you like it!! I tried my best, but I'm sorry if I made your characters ooc 🙇‍♀️]
There were two great armies of Heaven. The more well known one, The Army of God, was led by none other than the archangel Michael, Prince of the Heavenly Hosts, who defended Heaven from monsters that lurked within the endless void. The other army, The Exorcists, was led by Adam the First Man, God’s greatest creation, and was an army shrouded by mystery and secrecy. Not many knew what exactly the Exorcists did, save for a few higher ranked angels, just that their work was just as important as the Army of God’s.
And while the two armies share a similar role of protecting Heaven from the dangers of the world outside, their public impression could not be more contrasting. The Army of God, just like their leader, were composed of angels trained to the highest of caliber, highly serious and committed to their duties, exuding an aura of pristine excellence as they sport their golden armour. The Exorcists, on the other hand, were composed of only female angels, saved for their golden commander, clad in black and grey uniforms with a menacing devilish helmet to obscure their faces. And unlike the soldiers of Michael, the Exorcists were often found to be quite the lively group with a harsh undertone. However, despite the two armies' differences, both commanded respect and adoration from the citizens of Heaven for their reputation as strong and reliable defenders of Heaven. 
The leaders of these two armies, Adam and Michael, while they both shared a reputation of being strong and capable commanders, appeared to hold no love for one another. With both having a propensity for obstinacy, unwilling to share control to anyone else despite evidence that would suggest it better to let go, the two were bound to clash heads often. Just like now…
“–and that’s why I think the technique you’re teaching them needs more work,” Michael ended his long critique regarding the Exorcists weapon handling skills and techniques as he watched the women train in their barracks, standing beside their commander, Adam. 
A loud slurping noise from a drink that was essentially empty was all the response Michael received from Adam, who remained sitting slack on the bench as he watched his girls train hard for the upcoming extermination. 
“Adam.”
More slurping, an uncouth burp, and then more persistent slurping from the straw before Adam finally gave Michael a glance, one brow raised. “Dude.” 
Michael simply responded with a similar quirk of his brow, a silent dare for Adam to say what he had in his mind.
“They’re my girls,” Adam started, “and they're badasses already.”
“They could be even better,” Michael insisted, arms crossed as he looked down on Adam, a hint of worry in his calm features. “You can never be too careful when dealing with Hell,” he added in a hushed tone.
A snigger left Adam at the archangel’s words of concern as he placed his now empty cup to sit on the bench beside him. An air of nonchalance clinging heavier than ever on him as he waved Michael off, “What can they even do? We’re invulnerable. Calm your ass and tend to your own soldiers instead.”
In a way, Adam understood where Michael was coming from. Hell was a place not to be underestimated, filled with the most vile, filthy, unsalvageable souls in existence; the chaos and madness only exacerbated by their useless excuse for a king. One would be wise to completely avoid that dumpster fire of a place, or even better, cleanse the filth off of existence with an army of deadly skilled angels. And Adam’s army of exorcists were more than capable of doing the job, possessing both the skill and passion required for such a gruesome task. So while he somewhat appreciated Michael’s persistence on impeccability and covering all bases, even the irrelevant ones, the most it did for him was grate his nerves a little since as literal angels, they were already immune to whatever sinners could even hope to throw at them. The concern was sweet, but highly unnecessary. 
“You’ll be the one needing to tend your ass later,” mumbled Michael though Adam didn’t miss a single word that was said. 
“Wha–! You!!” hissed Adam as he swiftly threw his empty cup at the archangel, who easily dodged the projectile.  
Beneath his mask, Adam’s face was a bright gold, the ventilation and cooling system of the mask not helping in any way to calm the heat that was quickly spreading across his cheeks. And while Michael couldn’t possibly see any of this, Adam’s reaction was all he needed to know he had successfully flustered his pretty angel. 
“No?” Michael asked with a slight tilt of his head, pretty blue eyes shining so prettily beneath long lashes, his long golden hair flowing like silk in Heaven’s cool breeze. If it were anyone else, they would instantly fall for the veil of innocence in front of him, believing that the archangel was oblivious to the undertone of his words prior. But not Adam, no. He had known and spent too much time with the Prince of Heaven to know otherwise. Of course, that didn’t mean he had become immune to Michael’s titillating gaze; somehow always finding himself readily falling for it. 
With a huff that lacked any real heat and a golden flush still painted all over his face, Adam muttered, his voice as quiet as the gentle breeze, “...maybe later…”
“But after work!!” Adam immediately added as he abruptly stood up to push and shove Michael out of the Exorcists’ training grounds. “Now, get out! You’re a distraction!”
“Oh? Am I now?” pondered Michael as he let Adam shove him towards the exit. 
“Yes! Now, out!”
While all of their bickering was nothing more than playful banter and shameless flirting when they believed no one seemed to be watching, unfortunately, nothing could be further from the truth. Four sets of eyes lurking just behind some pink bushes watched on as Adam and Michael appeared to be in a heated dispute, with the father of humanity seemingly so aggrieved enough to have thrown his drink at their brother before proceeding to kick him out of the training grounds. Three out of four sets of eyes gave one another a concerned look, while the fourth one, with eyes like plums, simply looked bored and exhausted with a hint of irritation. 
Four archangels pulled away from the edge of the bush, hiding themselves further into dense pink foliage as they mulled over the scene they all had just witnessed.
“That…didn’t look so good,” Raphael remarked, brows creased in concern. 
“No, it didn’t. It seemed that our brother and Adam were fighting. Again,” Jophiel nodded in agreement, her thoughts already skimming through possible causes of their seemingly long standing feud, but coming up with no viable explanation. Yes, Adam and Michael had somewhat contrasting personalities and demeanour, but she didn’t think it was enough for the two to hold such dislike for one another. And yet, whenever she witnessed the two sharing a space in public, they either barely acknowledged each other, or just like she had seen now, engaged in argument with no resolution since neither seemed willing to relent. 
“I don’t understand,” she pondered aloud. “Michael isn’t normally one to persist in such childish behaviour. And Adam…well, he never truly let anyone’s words affect him much.”
“Not everyone has to get along. Sometimes people just don’t like each other,” Uriel added, a little irked at being dragged into a bush to spy on both his brother and the first man, when he was on his way to get some work done. 
“But Michael’s our dear brother and Adam’s our precious friend!” Gabriel asserted, both hands on his thighs as he sat up even straighter as his amber eyes shone with resolve. “We can’t just leave them like this!”
In the background, Raphael placed gentle hands on Gabriel’s shoulders to ease some of the excess energy off of the spirited angel; a quiet request for silence lest they be discovered sneaking around. 
“Okaaay?” Uriel rolled his eyes at Gabriel’s display of what he thought as childish fervour. “But, is all this sneaking even necessary? Why don’t you just ask them both directly? That’ll get the problem solved in no time.”
“Such things require delicacy and sensitivity to solve, Uriel,” Raphael kindly reasoned. “We  can’t just pull them aside and interrogate them.”
“We must find the root cause first,” Jophiel continued with Raphael nodding in agreement.
“Oh! I know exactly what to do!” Gabriel raised a hand, energy quickly returning back to him. 
“Please don’t tell me it’s got to do with mor–,” groaned Uriel, truly tired with this mess. 
“The next we see them fighting, we listen in on what they might be arguing about, then we can go on from there!” Gabriel announced proudly, a beaming smile on his face.
“Ugh…” 
All Uriel could do was groan and rub his temples as his two other siblings, for reasons he couldn’t fathom, agreed to Gabriel’s terrible idea. He didn’t mind so much, really, if only they would keep him out of their inane plan. But deep down, he knew there was no way they would ‘leave him out’. Just the thought of enacting Gabriel’s plan was already giving him a headache, he couldn’t imagine the mental anguish he would have to go through on the day of the plan itself. But siblings stayed together, he supposed.
—-
The day of unveiling the truth had finally arrived. And of course, Uriel just had to be dragged along with his siblings' schemes just when he was on his way to his own office. Currently, all of the archangels, including Michael and Adam, were in their work building. All four archangels, Jophiel, Raphael, Gabriel and Uriel, had all finished their lunches a little earlier than normal and were just heading back to their respective offices, when they all caught a glimpse of Adam following Michael into his office. It wasn’t anything particularly unusual, they were both commanders of an angelic army, sometimes there were things they must discuss. However, Jophiel, Raphael and Gabriel were all quickly stopped in their tracks when they heard multiple things hitting the floor from Michael’s office. Even Uriel momentarily took a pause before deciding that he was much too busy to intervene, though he was quickly pulled into it by siblings. 
So now, all four of them were currently by the door of Michael’s office, either crouched or standing, but all trying to eavesdrop on the possible argument inside. 
An irritated scowl formed on Uriel’s face as he pulled himself away from the door. “This is useless. All we hear are muffled voices.”
“Then should we just knock and ask?” asked Gabriel, amber eyes wavering with worry.
“Hold on a second, hmm,” Raphael lightly touched the office door, a faint golden glow emanating from his fingertips. “It seems that Michael had placed a small barrier around his office.”
“So we can’t get in?” Jophiel queried.
Raphael shook his head, “Not really, unless we use force. It’s only a mild barrier, nothing particularly strong.” 
“Well, that’s it for us then.” Uriel clapped his hands as he stood up, ready to head back to his own office, “We can’t really do much until they’re done with whatever they’re fighting about this time.”
An air of resignation surrounded the siblings as they realised their current lack of options. And really, as much as they would’ve preferred to wait outside and confront both Michael and Adam about their conflicts as soon as they’re done fighting, they had no idea when the two would actually come out and they all still had some work to get done for the day. So, in silence, all four siblings agreed to simply catch and confront the two commanders once they were free of their duties. 
All four were just about to separate and head on to their respective offices when they hear another much louder noise from Michael’s office, and then another and another until something seemed to have hit the door and then fall down with a dull thud. Concern and panic swiftly washed over all four archangel’s features as they froze on their tracks with the exception of Gabriel, who immediately made his way back towards Michael’s office with a fiery haste. 
“That’s it! I’m not standing by any longer!”
And with gathered strength, Gabriel kicked the door to Michael’s office, causing it to fly off its hinges and revealing the two commanders…entangled with one another…on Michael’s desk…with Adam beneath him, one bare leg wrapped around his brother. 
“Gabriel! What–��� called out Jophiel as she followed suit with both Raphael and Uriel behind her. 
In front of them four was a scene they had never expected to see: both Michael and Adam in a state of indecency, limbs wrapped around each other, their clothes haphazardly half taken off with Michael’s coat at the foot of where the door used to be. Papers, books, cups and everything that used to be on Michael’s desk scattered in a mess all over the floor. Both Michael and Adam flushed golden, their hair in wild disarray, the sweat making it stick to their faces as signs of their passion began to show in small, golden blooms along their necks and chest accompanied with a few lovingly toothed marks here and there. 
“AAAAHHH!!” screamed Adam as he tried to both push Michael off of him while also trying to pull him closer to use him as a shield to hide the scandalous state he was in.
“Ummm…” before Gabriel could even say anything more Michael had already teleported both him and Adam out of his office in a cloud of blue smoke.
“So all this time they weren’t fighting?” Jophiel wondered aloud. “It was just their form of flirting?”
“That…that explains a lot,” Raphael said, still a little shocked at what he had just witnessed. 
Uriel wanted to gouge out his eyes. That was something he never wanted nor needed to see.
—-
“Please, I’m ready to move on into my third life now…” Adam groaned into his hands as he laid on the bed of Michael’s bedroom. A heavy cloud of unconsolable despair hung over him as he felt the weight of shame and embarrassment on his body. Never had he wished to sink into the ground and disappear forever more than ever in both his mortal life and afterlife. 
“It– it’s not so bad,” Michael tried to console Adam, one hand gently patting his head. “People were bound to find out. At least it was my siblings and not someone like Sera.”
“Michael, please, shut the fuck up.” Adam could feel the tears of shame prick his eyes. “I can’t believe they caught us like that!!” screamed Adam into a pillow he had grabbed. 
“Yes, that– that is troublesome,” Michael nervously agreed. For all his confident capability, for the first time in his long immortal life, Michael wasn’t exactly sure how to face his siblings after this…incident. At least without it being painfully embarrassing for both him and Adam. 
Adam whined into the pillow, still refusing to believe what had happened just minutes before, “I want to return to dust now, Father pleeeease!”
[I actually really really enjoyed writing your OCs, might have even fallen in love with Uriel here ahahaha.]
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aticklishpercivalwriter · 2 days ago
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A Teasy Time~
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For Artists Who See Their Art on My Fics Link to Artworks: Sethos pinned against a wall by Scara (@akushixa), Scara being illegally hawt (@yi_xin9943), Scara looking at you like you’re his prey (@kiyonvmi), Sethos hiding or flustered beyond belief (@mimilims)
Summary: Teasy Scara and making Sethos suffer :)
A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! Hope you all are doing well! Here’s the long-awaited teasy fic! The SFW version! Probably the only spicy thing is the kissing like in My Honey ♡ My Bee :) The N$FW version will be released when it is finished so if you were waiting for it, I’m so sorry that you have to wait a bit more 😓. Though, I hope you all enjoy this gift! It never gets old writing for these two :) Anyway, hope you all enjoy this fic, and thank you for a great year ❤️! PS, couldn’t decide which artworks to use so have you have two versions. Wanted artworks that really reflect what Scara looks like when looking at Sethos and how Sethos feels. The meme one of Sethos was too hard to pass up to not include :P Definitely need more flustered Sethos art.
Word Count: 3290 Also on AO3!
The sun is rising over the horizon of the Sumeru forest, its light filtering in through the window blinds of Wanderer’s and Sethos’s bedroom. The streaks of light casting a warm glow on the cuddling duo. Scaramouche was the first to awake, eyes fluttering open and propping himself on his shoulder. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked towards his lover, his breath catching in his throat.
“Fuck, he is beautiful.”
They both were only in their underwear after a night of making love to one another. He traced his skin and blushed as the memories came rushing back. He shook his head getting back in the moment. There will be time to do it again later. For now, he admired his boyfriend. He really looked divine and a gift from the gods. The tan skin glowing in the light and highlighting the muscles from years of training. The slow rise and fall of his broad chest as he breathed. His hair down as it partially covered his face and pooled into curly waves behind him. And finally, the hickeys that decorated his figure. The marks meaning that he is his. He drank in the sight, planting soft kisses all over him.
“I’m glad I have you in my life, my little bee,” he whispers. “I love you…more than you could ever know.”
After a few minutes of affection, he got off the bed and stood up, stretching and taking a look at himself in their full-body mirror.
“Shit, he really marked me up too.”
His body was littered with hickeys, mostly on his neck and shoulders while a few were on his chest and thighs.
“I guess that talkative mouth of his can be useful for something,” he chuckled, skimming his fingers over the marks.
He is really relieved that they sent Durin to be with Aether and the others for a few days because he definitely didn’t want their innocent dragon to see or hear what they were doing and are going to do again later. He has no idea how he would explain what he is seeing right now to their little dragon.
“This is going to be a pain in the ass to hide,” he sighed, walking over to their dresser and rummaging through the drawers to find a scarf or something to hide the ones on his shoulders and neck.
“Not here. How about—”
"Aah! It's a monster!”
He yelped in surprise, immediately pulling his hand out of the drawer as strong arms from behind wrapped around him and he felt a kiss on his nape.
“Did I get ya?~” Sethos teased.
“You got five seconds. One-”
“Wait, wha—”
“You heard me. You can’t please your way out of this one. Three-”
Sethos immediately let him go, bolting out of their bedroom using his electro powers and into their living room. Adrenaline rushed through him as his honey’s voice resonated throughout the house.
“Fourrrr~ Five!”
Scara sped off after him not activating his anemo powers just yet. He’ll pounce on his prey quietly after he is done toying with him.
“Oh Sethhh~ Come on out~”
He had a Cheshire smirk on his face as he purposely took heavy footsteps and started tapping his nails on the walls and any hard surface he could find. He wanted him to know he was coming for him.
And Sethos, who was crouching behind a couch, bit his lip as the sound echoed from the hall to his ears. He felt his face heat up and the pounding of his heart in his ears was deafening. Damn Scara for knowing how to get his skin tingling.
“You know what I’m going to do to you when I get my hands on you?” Scara asks, stepping into the living room and searching. “I’m going to stroke my fingers slooowly down that sensitive back of yours while I whisper those teases you love in your ears and plant little kisses on your neck.”
Sethos who managed to crawl around a corner and start backtracking to the bedroom as quietly as possible, almost collapsed upon hearing those words. He was biting back a grin as he rubbed the goosebumps that were forming on his skin. His mind was going a million miles a minute with scenarios and fuck, Scara knows how to rile him up.
He finally made it to the bedroom, his honey’s teasing muffled by the walls as he hid on the side of the bed away from the door. His escape route was to jump over the bed and out the door once Scara entered and shutting it on him. That should buy him some time he thinks.
Wait, why is it so quiet?
Focusing on his surroundings, it was deathly silent. No tapping. No verbal teases. No muffled noises. Absolute silence. He was starting to get a bad feeling about this.
Click!
Oh shit.
His eyes widened in horror upon hearing the door close and lock. But he still can’t hear anything, not even footsteps. He has no idea where Scara was in the room or if he was even in the room at all.
Should I chance a look?
After much debate, he decided to peek around the corner of the bed but didn’t see anything besides the closed door and the rest of the room looked untouched from where he was looking.
Does that mean he’s waiting out—
“It’s the tickle monster~”
“AAAHHHH!”
Sethos screamed as he felt arms, which were definitely his lover’s, lift him from behind and throw him onto the bed. He frantically struggled trying to get off the bed only to tangle himself up in the blankets. Scara took the opportunity to turn him onto his back, sitting on his waist and pinning his arms above his head.
“So, my bee. Thought you could get away with scaring me like that, hmm?”
He leaned down towards Sethos, giving him a devilish smirk while Sethos just gulped in return, too stunned to speak.
“Cat got your tongue, love?” Scara teased, trailing his fingers down Sethos’s exposed armpit.
“Hehehe, nohohoho!” Sethos giggled, bringing him out of his shock.
“So, you thought it was a good idea to scare me, huh?”
“Yeah? AHahaHAHA! Dohohohon’t!”
Sethos laughed, feeling Scara scribble against his sides.
“Remember, you brought this upon yourself~”
“Wha— oof!”
Scara let go of his arms, flipping him onto his chest and sitting on his waist once again. He started stroking his fingers along the bare skin of his lover’s back, making him jerk in his hold before giggling.
“Nohohohoho! Nohohohot thihihis!”
“Oh yeah, you’re right.”
Sethos felt a spark of hope only for it to be put out when he felt hands move his hair away and lips on the side of his neck.
“I forgot this,” Scara smirked, blowing a raspberry.
“GahaHAHahaHA!”
“And also, this.”
Before Sethos could ask him what else, he felt his voice right against his ear, sending tingles down his spine.
“You’re so ticklish it’s adorable.”
“Nohohoho!”
“You don’t think you are adorable? Well, you are with how you giggle like that and squirm around. You are making me want to tickle you forever~”
“Bahahabe! Stahahap teheheasing mehehe!”
What have I awakened in you, Scara?
“I don’t think I will. This is your punishment after all. Besides, I’m just getting started~”
Now he started scratching and Sethos let out a surprised yelp before falling into a symphony of laughter and giggles.
“You make quite the music for my ears~”
“NAHahahAHA!” Sethos laughed, shaking his head. “STAhaHAhap! TihihIHIHIckling MEHEheheHE!”
“Stop?” Scara leaned towards his ear, brushing his lips against his earlobe. “Why would I stop? You're clearly loving this with that smile on your face~”
Scara chuckled. He chuckled. The sound reverberated in his mind and left a pleasant tingling sensation in its wake. His love knows what he is doing to him. He knows it's driving him insane. And he definitely knows he loves it. It is so unfair how his honey knows how to turn him into mush. He whined in protest, crawling off the bed trying to escape his lover's clutches and flustering teases.
“Where do you think you’re going?~”
Before he knew what was happening, Scara pulled him back, squeezing his sides and making him squeal.
“I wasn’t done with you, naughty bee~”
“Wait! I-I’m sorry! It’s- HAHAHAHA! SCAHAHARAHAHA!”
He felt nibbles on his back making him let out a guffaw of laughter.
“You're sooo cute when you know you're in trouble,” Scara teased, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles.
Grabbing a pillow, Sethos hid his face in it, muffling his laughs along with the blush from his honey’s flustering teases.
“My poor bee, it tickles so bad, doesn't it?”
Sethos pounded his fist against the bed in response, lost in his own laughter as his words got to him.
“Oh, I know, I know. It's okay,” his lover cooed. “It won't end anytime soon~”
Sethos’s reaction was priceless as his laughter got more desperate upon hearing those words and he scrunched up his shoulders, shaking his head in ticklish mirth and hair flailing in every direction.
Scara smirked, an evil grin on his face as he began blowing raspberries and leaving ticklish licks on Sethos’s back.
“NAHAHAHAHA! SCAHAHAHARA! I’M GOHOHOING TO DIEHEHEHE!”
Sethos was now blindly whacking the pillow against Scara trying to fight back.
“What are you trying to do?”
Scara giggled at his antics, throwing the offending pillow away and tickling his exposed armpit.
“NOHOHOHO! MY WEHEAPON! TAHAHAKE THIHIS!”
Sethos managed to somehow squeeze Scara’s side making him bark out a laugh but as quick as it happened, Scara turned him back onto his back, a playful glare in his eyes.
“You made a mistake my bee. You really thought you could tickle me back?”
Sethos widened his eyes, panicking as he frantically crawled backwards. Scara took his time, slowly inching closer and closer to him with that signature smirk of his.
“Waitwaitwahahait! Plehease! I'm sohorry!”
“Giggling already? I’m not even touching you.”
Ignoring his lover’s protests, he grabbed Sethos’s scarf from the bedside table, tying up his arms before leaning down towards his ear, playfully nipping at it before whispering.
“Suffer~”
Sethos exploded into laughter, pulling at his arms in vain as Scara drilled into his armpits.
“NOHOHOHO! HOHOHONEHEHEY! I-I’M SOHOHORRYEHEHE! DOHOHON’T DOHOHO THIHI- HAHAHA!”
His lover didn’t bother to hear the rest, crawling a hand behind his back and scribbling.
“BWAHAHAHAHA! M-MOCHIHIHIHI!”
He twisted onto his side before falling back and legs kicking out in response to the overwhelming sensations racking through his body.
“Aw, that’s cute. Calling me nicknames again. That’s not going to save you, my love~”
“PLEHEHEASE! I’M SOHORRY! I’M SAHAHAHARWY! PLE- NAHAHAHA!”
“How you melt like honey right beneath me. Maybe I should start calling you honey now instead~”
“I only get to call you— Mmphehe!”
He was cut off by his own giggle when he felt fingers scribble along his side.
“Heh, you were saying?”
“You're mean, so mehehean.”
“Mean, huh?” Scara chuckled, making Sethos gulp.
“I'll show you what mean is~”
Rolling Sethos over, Scara straddled his hips and went all in on his back, not leaving any spot untouched. And Sethos exploded with laughter.
“MMPHAHAHA! SCAHAHARAHA! NOHOHOHO!”
If Sethos could pound the bed, he certainly would as each scribble along his back was sending ticklish shocks throughout him.
“Tickle tickle tickle~”
“STAHAHAHAP TEHEHEASING MEHEHEHE!”
“Mmm, no~”
Tears of mirth started leaking from his eyes as the tickling continued. Scara was merciless as he whispered coochie-coos and tickle tickles making Sethos scrunch up his shoulders and alternating from scribbling to clawing and everything in between making him kick his legs out and laugh boisterously.
“BWAHAHAHAHA! SCAHA- AHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHEASE!”
“Can’t handle a little tickling?~” Scara teased, slowing down and finally taking mercy on his lover before turning him over for a kiss.
“Hah, hah. You call that little?! I’m exhausted!”
“You need to build up your stamina more, my bee~” Scara snickered, kissing him again.
“Hey, I thought this was a punishment?” Sethos joked, playfully nipping at his lips. “Can’t get enough of me, can’t you~”
“You didn’t just say that.”
“What if I did?~”
“Such a naughty bee you are.”
“Only for you~ Hahahaha! Wahahait! Nohoho!”
“Just because you said that, no more kisses for you.”
“I’m sohohorry! I dihihidn’t mean it! ACK! NOHOHOT THEHEHERE!”
“Mmm, sucks to be you~”
“You’re mehehean!”
“And just for that, no more cuddles.”
“Nohow thAHAHAT’S EHEHEVIL!”
“You should’ve been nice in the first place.”
“GAHAHAHA! SAHAHAY’S YOUHUHU!”
“Are you just trying to be a brat today?”
“HAHAHAHAHA!”
“Not talking anymore huh? Two can play that game.”
Scara stopped, untying Sethos’s arms and just laying across from him, a smirk on his face.
“Wait, w-why did you stop?”
“Tell me what you want,” Scara said, ignoring his question and hovering his fingers right over Sethos’s sensitive skin.
“What!? N-No! You— You can't do that!”
Sethos's eyes were wide as saucers, and he looked pleadingly at him.
“Can't do what?”
Scara looked at him innocently, but his grin betrayed his true intentions.
Now this, Sethos was not ready for.
“I take it back! Wan, Scara, my honey! Mochi-Mouche! Don’t do this!”
Sethos was biting his lip and clenching his hands. His lover’s fingers were right there! The anticipation was seriously driving him up the wall.
Please! Scaraaa!
“What? This?”
Scara wiggled his fingers at him, and he whined, shaking his head.
“Aww, that’s a cute reaction,” Scara cooed, pulling away and grabbing a couple nearby pillows before lifting his hips and placing them underneath.
“W-What are you doing?”
With his hips lifted up, his back was completely exposed and he never felt so vulnerable.
“Just this~”
With a devious smile, Scara slid his hand behind Sethos’s back. He hovered his fingers right below the skin, moving his fingers in a fanning motion making Sethos jump as he felt wisps of air against his skin.
Sethos groaned internally.
This is worse! I can’t even see his fingers! On top of that, I can’t even lower my back because of those stupid pillo— !!!
Scara suddenly placed his chin on Sethos’s thigh, a Cheshire grin on his face as he took an interest in placing kisses along his inner thigh.
“Nononono, Scara! Please! Just do it! Stop teasing me!”
Sethos was losing his mind as he hid his face in his hands.
“Use your words~ Just tell me what you want.”
“I can’t!”
“You can’t? Well, guess I have to keep doing this~”
Scara actually made contact with Sethos’s back making him gasp in surprise. Before he could say anything, his honey started slowly gliding his fingers back and forth making him giggle in delight.
Heh, I don’t have to ask him.
“You remember what I said before?” Scara asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. “’I’ll slowly stroke my fingers along your back.’ That’s what I’m going to do and keep doing until you tell me what you want.”
Wait, what? WHATTT!? Nonono. Okay, deep breaths Seth. This is fine. This is fineee. Just last long enough and he’ll eventually want to full-on tickle you, right? Right?!
Scara could see the flickering of emotions on his face and he inwardly grinned.
Gotcha, my bee~
He suddenly scribbled his fingers along Sethos’s back making him shriek in surprise before going back to slow strokes.
“HAHAHAhahahah!?”
His laughter teetered off into confusion when he felt those same agonizingly slow fingers along his skin.
What was that for? Wa— !!!
“AHAHAHAhahaha??”
It happened again and he looked at Scara who only raised his eyebrows at him before planting another soft kiss on his thighs. However, there was also a tiny mischievous grin that anyone would have missed unless they were his lover, like him. The realization hit Sethos like a truck.
Oh no. Oh nononono. This is bad. This baddd. Das not good. Ha, get it? Cyno! Get your jokes out of my head!! Ugh, Archons, I am going crazy and definitely done for.
Sethos chanced another look at Scara and the latter shot him a sly smile before kissing and snuggling into him.
HOW CAN HE BE CUTE AND EVIL AT THE SAME TIME!?!?!?!
Sethos took a shaky breath, little giggles mixing in before he started speaking.
“Pleasetickleme.”
“Hmm?~”
Scara, I swear.
“Tickle me, please.”
“I can’t hear you~”
Oh, fuck you.
“Honey, just please tickle me.”
“Can you—”
“SCARA! TICKLE ME PLEASE! I’M BEGGING YOU!”
“Hehehe, you could’ve just asked~”
Without any hesitation, Scara dug into every ticklish nook and cranny and Sethos let out the most hilarious sigh that Scara had heard from him.
“AhhAHAHA! FIHIHINAHALLY! HAHAHAHA!”
“You really like this huh?”
“OF COURSEHE I DOHOHO! WAIT! BWAHAHAHA! THAHAT TIHIHICKLES!”
“Of course it does, silly bee~”
“BUT IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES SOHOHO BAHAHAD!”
“But you like it, right?”
“AHAHAHAHA!”
“Thought so~”
So, they spent the rest of the morning in bed with Scara tickling his little bee just how he likes it and the latter loving every second of it. Little raspberries along his back, scribbles along his sides, vibrating fingers on his armpits. The list goes on and on. And Scara was blessed with his lovely laughter.
“You had your fill yet, my love?” Scara asked, slowing down when Sethos fell into silent laughter.
“Y-Yeahaha. I thihink sohoho.”
Sethos shot him a giggly smile and it was Scara’s turn to have his heart melt.
“God, you are so cute, Seth.”
“Ehehe, right back at you, Wan.”
Scara sprawled over Sethos, wrapping his arms around him and peppering him with kisses wherever he could reach. He doesn’t bother to massage the ghostly tickles away because he knows Sethos likes the feeling which Scara finds very endearing.
“You’re in your mushy moods again, huh?” Sethos teased.
“Shut up,” Scara laughed, shushing him with a kiss on the lips.
They both melted into the kiss, closing their eyes and enjoying the softness of it.
“Mmph~ Y’know— ahh~ I can’t— Mmphaah~ Get enough of— haah~ You— Aah!”
“Mmm, you talk too much.”
Scara playfully bit his lips causing him to part his lips to let out a moan and he took the opportunity to dive in and suck his tongue. A once soft and sensual kiss now turned into a fiery passion.
Sethos was losing the battle for dominance as he fell apart, his fate sealed when Scara sucked his tongue. Though, he couldn't care less. Drowning in Scara is the best feeling in the world.
“Seth— Mmm~”
“Hnnn— Scaraaa~”
Scara tangled his fingers in Sethos’s hair, pulling at it. Not to cause any pain but to earn a low moan from the other. Sethos wrapped his arms around him, bringing them impossibly closer. However, his fingers accidentally grazed a ticklish trail on his skin drawing a giggle out of him, forcing them to break apart.
“Hah, hah. Ticklish?” Sethos can't help but tease.
“Hah, aah. Not as bad as you~” he shot back.
They stared at each other for a beat their breaths mingling before they started giggling and then full-on laughing until they trickled back into a peaceful silence.
“I'm so in love with you,” Sethos laughed, kissing his forehead.
“I'm so in love with you too,” Scara sighed happily, resting his head against Sethos’s chest and listening to his heartbeat.
“Good night, my bee,” he murmured after a few moments.
“You do know the sun is out, right?”
“Don't make me shut that mouth of yours again.”
“I wouldn't mind if you did it again, honey~” Sethos teased, wiggling his eyebrows.
“You are insatiable,” Scara laughed, shaking his head.
“But you love me~”
“Of course I love you. Now come over here you needy bee.”
“I was hoping you would say that~”
Thank you for reading! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays again! :) Hope the wait was worth it ;) -Perz ~Risus Amoris~
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vukovich · 12 hours ago
Note
Fisting prompt if you're interested! Two people down the hall from me hooked up on my very first night of university. He fisted her with a ring on and it cut inside her vagina and she bled everywhere and needed stitches. A bunch of girls (all strangers at this point) gathered to help her in the bathroom and it was very wholesome. Pretty sure they hooked up again after that too.
So the prompt is something along those lines with Draco fisting Harry while wearing a ring on their first night of 8th year/university/new job, etc., it doesn't go well, and Harry needs medical attention. He can have a vagina if you're feeling it, but no preference between that and ass. Merry fistmasssss
Put a Ring on in It
Draco never would have done it if Potter hadn't dared him.
"You gonna get cold feet now, Malfoy?"
They were both utterly pissed and high off triumph.
"Chicken," Potter said. He tossed his packer to bounce off Draco's chest and onto the floor.
It was warm.
Potter was warmer. And wet. Drenched. The only thing he said was "More", until Draco ran out of fingers, but Harry begged like a man starving.
They didn't quit until Draco's shoulder shook. He was pressure-red across the knuckles, like he'd punched a wall, then dunked his fist in Vaseline to put out the burn.
Potter excused himself to the restroom and didn't come back. Draco didn't take it personally. In fact, he hardly noticed.
--
Potter robbed him. It was the only plausible explanation.
In the morning, his ring and wallet were gone. He noticed the missing ring immediately upon waking. He missed it like a dead spouse, the absence in bed palpable.
Magic didn't find it, so it wasn't anywhere nearby.
When he wrested last night's clothes back on, his pockets were empty.
Potter. He scoffed at the indignity of it while doing up his cuffs. Of all damned people. Auror Potter.
A freshening spell would have to do this morning. He had a police report to file.
--
By the time he reached the desk, his ire had faded. Rather than demand to see Potter or loudly narrate the contents of his report, he cleared his throat and said:
"Yes, Auror Potter found my wallet and I'm supposed to pick it up from him."
The secretary glanced up at him sidelong. Then down. She lingered on his shoes.
"He's sick."
Draco considered finding Potter's office and breaking into it. The secretary wheeled her chair to a rotary phone on the other end of the desk. Her back was to Draco.
And then he was halfway down the hall.
Left: Aurors A-H Right: Aurors I-R Ahead: Aurors S-Z
"Helpful," he whispered to himself.
He kept his stride casual and did not think about what would happen to a former Death Eater, who was somewhere in the twilight between drunk and hungover, when he got caught ransacking a Senior Auror's office on a lark.
Potter, Harold James
"Pfft," Draco grabbed the doorknob and twisted, just to see how sturdy the lock was. "Harold James. Sounds like a porn-"
The door swung right open. Potter was sitting at his desk.
"-name..." Draco gulped. He considered bolting. Apparating. Throwing something and screaming. "Pocket sand."
"What?"
"I said, 'You're supposed to be sick'."
As soon as he said it, he felt it, himself. His hangover was approaching like a freight train of northbound nausea. He was adept at holding himself together, but the effort made him irate.
"Oh. I am. I'm on my way home." Potter shifted in his chair like he couldn't find a comfortable spot. "I was, ah," he held up a scrap of paper, "just going to Owl you. Actually."
"To apologize for robbing me in my sleep?" Draco hissed.
Why was he even here at this God-forsaken hour, anyway? Because Saint Potter was a klepto when he drank? He surely didn't need the money.
"Wait," Potter paused in pulling a clear plastic baggie from his robe pocket, "what? I didn't steal it."
He pulled it out even more slowly, and Draco realized he'd walked into a trap. Potter had engineered this. He was some kind of one night stand stalker. He wanted Draco to come hunt him down the morning after. And he knew exactly what to steal to spur Draco best.
"You arsehole." Draco's ire stuffed his guts back down.
He snatched the baggie and held it up. Inside was his ring, safe and sound. If a bit crusty.
Potter didn't say anything to defend himself. He silently watched Draco pour the ring out into his palm. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again.
He was probably disappointed Draco had figured him out. Maybe he'd expected Draco to be too cowardly to demand it back. That seemed more like Potter. He probably took a souvenir from all of his bedroom conquests. His wallet had better not be missing anything important.
"And my wallet?" Draco asked, like was collecting taxes.
Potter shot him a quizzical look.
Draco sniffed and said, "Or do you keep that for your sex trophy collection?"
"My what?"
"You know, your-"
And Potter leaned back in his chair, and the seat made a strange, clinical crinkling sound. And then the grind of ice cubes. And Potter's hissed breath.
And Draco finally looked down at his hands. There was a St Mungo's logo on the baggie. The dried gunk around the emerald was tinged with red-turning-brown.
Potter hadn't stolen out under the cover of darkness like a cat burglar, after all. He'd used Draco's bathroom and gone straight to the Mungo's A&E.
Potter said, "You probably left your wallet at the party. I think you left without your coat, too."
Draco gulped. His wallet was in his coat pocket in the cloak room.
The events of the night replayed in fast-forward. Many frames were missing.
"Didn't know you were left-handed," Potter said, as though watching the film in Draco's head.
"I'm... not...?" Draco said, dazed, as he desperately sought an exit.
He sent a man to the hospital and then hunted him down and accused him of theft. He'd gone to considerable lengths to do so, in fact. Illegal lengths.
The color drained from his face, and he wobbled a bit.
"I think I'm unwell," Draco warbled.
Potter handed him the folded scrap of paper and nodded towards the open door. In farewell, he said, "Interesting that wasn't even your better hand," but mostly to himself.
Draco didn't stop to consider it and shuffled in the general direction of the front desk. Presuming that the folded paper was a note to get him past the secretary, he unfolded it as he approached.
It was official stationary from the desk of Harold James Potter, Senior Auror.
Draco huffed at the self-important name choice.
There was no note. Not a single word. Just a doodle of a Niffler.
--
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blond3ang3l · 19 hours ago
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❄️Snowy day with Batkids❄️
(Male reader)
Tumblr media
Dick- 17 Jason- 16 Tim-12 Duke & Cass- 10 Steph- 7 Damian-5
———————————————————————
“Get your cold ass hands off me you son of a bitch!”
“No way, not after you had us outside for two hours because you lost the key.”
You shook your head listening to your two step children go back and forth. You had came home to see them in nothing but pajamas outside to your confusion. What made it worse was that it was snowing heavy, at least 4 inches now. You had just came back from food shopping and Bruce was out grabbing other stuff. You two left the oldest two to watch their younger siblings so just how did they end up out here? You unlocked the door and pushed them into the house to warm up.
“Cmon boys. I’m gonna go check on your brothers and sisters. You two try not to kill each other please.”
Your hand went to the back of their heads rubbing it softly before going upstairs to check on the younger five kids. It was the middle of the days so the youngest two Damian and Steph were in their rooms napping. You stepped into the room and your heart practically melted. The two tended to argue about literally nothing but they looked so adorable. The two fell asleep on the floor next to each other after they seemed to have finished painting. They were covered in it and their finished products were on the floor. Steph’s was a picture of the family and Damian’s seemed to be of you, Bruce, and Talia. A small smile came on your face and you picked the two up and laid them in their beds. You’d have to bathe them later but it was so worth it.
Duke was playing quietly with Cass in their shared room. As you stepped in the two kids practically lit up. You were ambushed and tackled to the floor making you groan but chuckle as well.
“I’m glad you guys are happy to see me.”
“Daddy! Is papa Bruce with you? He said he was gonna train me when he got back from the store!”
You smiled at Cass’s eagerness to see and be like her other father. It was adorable how much you guys children adored him.
“No, but he is on his way. Why don’t you get dressed so you’ll be ready when he comes.”
She practically squealed with excitement at your words. Duke was holding on to your leg. You looked down to him and he was smiling up at you. It was damn cute, while bruce had Cass, Damian, Dick and Stephanie you had Duke and Jason who were total daddy boys for you. You pressed your lips to his forehead before letting go back to playing.
That was four now only one was missing. When you heard a sudden crash from the bathroom you knew it was the last one.
“Tim, what are you doing this time?”
He turned around and all you see is him messing with your hair and skin care. The twelve year olds face was covered in your charcoal mask making you shake your head to keep from laughing.
“I uh- I didn’t know you’d be home so soon dad.”
“Uh huh, and you seem to be havin a real good time with my stuff kid.
You wet a rag to wipe the excess away from his eyes to keep it from getting inside them.
“Need to be careful boy. Next time wait for me to help you. Or ask Dick, he knows how to do it without getting messy. And ask before you just touch my stuff, you could have been allergic to something in this”
“My bad dad.”
You hummed in response until you hand sudden thought.
“Wait a minute did you not hear your brothers knocking on the door?”
“Oh no I did. But they wouldn’t let me play the game with them so I ignored it.”
You deadpanned at your son’s words and got ready to scold him when you heard Stephanie’s small voice calling out to you.
“Dada!”
You had a long day ahead of you..
———————————————————————
I’m gonna make a part two probably next week
My Christmas sucked so writing what I want my future to be<3
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clawz-loopz · 2 years ago
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reject weak midoriya. embrace the fact he lifted and cleaned a whole beach that had HEAVY METAL OBJECTS AND APPLIANCES + all might. embrace the fact he could pick up bakugou easily. embrace he is in fact a beefcake hidden by a scrawny frame. the anime does not do him fucking justice and at this point? FUCK THE ANIME. EMBRACE THE MANGA.
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shannonsketches · 5 months ago
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I just think Toei gives Vegeta a lot of shit for a guy who's maintained his rank within the top ten most powerful beings in the mortal realm since he was like five years old.
#and he did it without dragon balls OR senzu beans OR magic chi unlocks OR otherworldly help he's just been grinding for 30 years#every time I see a fan like 'vegeta's so weak bro lol' i'm like?? Hm?? Where??#I will never forgive toei for writing him the way they do in the movies but even with their ass character choices like#He's still Consistently The Fuck Out Here#When he tells Kiwi that he's actively choosing to be on the front lines instead of kicking back like he could be with his status as a lord#and then the payoff in Super when they're like 'damn vegeta must be a prodigy' Pybara is like 'yeah that's because he works his ass off'#the way I yelled!! And it's true of Goku too!!#I had to explain to a friend the other day too that Bardock's wish re: his boys doesn't remove all the grinding Goku's done over his life#It helped him survive and meet people the same way it did Raditz but Goku's still been training every single day. all his life.#The reason Raditz lost is because he didn't train his tail like Nappa and Vegeta did -- he knew it was a problem with a solution#and never addressed the problem. Goku consistently dug his heels in and worked to overcome any weakness he discovered in his body#no opportunity is going to help you if you don't put the work in. that's why Vegeta's arc is so good. He puts the work in on all fronts.#and why I am constantly mad at Toei for writing his relationships the way they do because it is so deeply inconsistent with his themes#anyway here's another essay in the tags aksldjaskjld
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catastrxblues · 1 year ago
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#okay i actually want to rant a bit 😭 - not advised to read this because then you might get brain damage#because oh my god??????? weird#(was going to write an entire diary but nvm here’s the gist of it)#basically i was coming home from this chem thing right#i used the train as i always do when it comes to this. and because the new station just got a shiny renovation it is now connected to the#new mall in front of it (we have two now it’s an addition to the first one). and guess what 😭#i had to go in and get to the first mall because my dad said he’d just pick me up at the lobby instead of the bus stop in front of#the station entrance right.#and when i was on the elevator going up on a call with my mom about food orders 😭#the guy i used to have a very very VERY heavy crush on in middle grade got to the elevator leading down just as i was on the landing 😭😭#and i had to make sure i wasn’t hallucinating so as he was descending and his back turned to me i examined the back of his head and i’m#pretty sure it was him. curiosity killed the cat i should’ve remembered that shit because you know what my stupid ass did??#i was already walking away on my way to cross to the first mall but then that curiosity got the better off me and i steppedonto the elevato#leading down 😭 and followed him out into (apparently) the fucking bus stop#oh my goddd I JUST REALIZED this is my the one moment help#except i don’t think he recognized me because i was never even friends with him lmao. wrote tons of poetry about him ✅#actually had one proper conversation with him ❌#i was delusional and kept alone with my thoughts living in my head do not judge me#but seriously even though i don’t really care about him anymore this would’ve been (unfortunately) SUPER important to middle grade me#she would’ve taken it as a sign or something and write like five pages about it#and i just keep thinking about that#funny how things change because IF YOU KNEW how many credits and exaggerated compliments i gave him in my old journal#oh you would’ve laugheddd#like i used to SPEND SO MUCH TIME pondering over him it’s so 😭#i used to have an oc and i think i based it on my idea of him and then i think that idea of him was even the reason i started to TRY to#write poetically. and i used to relate every taylor swift love songs to him (esp the ones in debut lover and rep and fearless) IT WAS SO#FUNNY LOOKING BACK AT IT NOW#i think he did see me though. i put on this act as if i was searching for someone confused and then (my go to) pretended someone called me#and then i whisked off as if to find that someone#i’d like to think i look pretty cool though. not because of anything (def not my looks because i was SO TIRED from that extra chem lessons
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lemonlover1110 · 15 days ago
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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
Summary: Toji has a special technique to make you forget things.
Warnings: Fluff, Suggestive Content
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky
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Toji loves to flex his muscles when he’s in trouble with you. He nearly whores himself out when he sees a frown on your face. He tries to make it subtle, but he couldn’t be more painfully obvious.
“Toji, what did I tell you about–” You begin, and when you look over, Toji is taking off his shirt.
“Whew, I had such a great workout today.” Toji cuts you off, putting his arms up to lean against the doorframe. The son of a bitch knows it works, but you look away before you forget your train of thoughts.
“Don’t leave your dirty–” You continue and Toji interrupts you once again.
“I can pick you up with one arm.” He reminds you, walking over to you and doing just as he told you. He lifts you off the floor using one arm, but he uses both to carry you to the bed. You’re kicking your feet in the air and yelling,
“You ass! Let me scold you!” You hear him chuckle before putting you down on the bed. You can’t stay mad when Toji looks so… Your eyes are wandering down his body. He can whore himself out as many times as he likes.
“I see you staring, you pervert.” Toji teases, and you ignore him as you continue staring.
“You have some big boobs.” You comment, and Toji rolls his eyes. Boobs. Yeah, what a great choice of words for his well defined pecs. “Do you need a bra?”
“Why would I need one when your hands are available?” He responds, and you giggle. One thing about him, he sure knows how to use his body in his favor.
“Yeah…” You respond, eyes staring at his body like the big pervert you are. Until you see a dirty sock from the corner of your eye, reminding you that you have a purpose. You aren’t just a pervert that loves to stare at her whore of a boyfriend. “But I can’t because I have to pick up your dirty socks.”
“C’mon, baby.” Toji grabs your hand and guides it to his torso. From his chest all the way down to his abdomen.
“Whore.” You spit at him, and he chuckles. You can call him whatever you want, but his method still works. 
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bi-writes · 8 months ago
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thinking about being the new addition to tf141. you are an asset given to laswell by the CIA, a timid little thing but your aim is always on target, and you are quiet, tech savvy, and you do as you're told. (18+, dark)
just how lieutenant riley prefers. he dwarfs you. the first time you meet, your eyes nearly come out of your head from how wide they go. he's so large, and you feel so tiny compared to him, and even though he does nothing but a disinterested once over, it is obvious to the rest of the team that you might just be his favorite.
it's most obvious in the subtle touches. when you're getting ready to jump, ghost comes up from behind and tugs on your parachute, nearly topping you over making sure it's secure. when you're getting ready in the back of the humvee, he reaches over and buckles your thigh holster for you when he notices the strap is coming loose. you nearly choke when you feel his big hand between your thighs, and you stare up at him with wide eyes when his pinkie moves up the seam of your zipper when he tugs his hand away.
and then the way he's on your six is unlike anything else. like glue, chest pressed to your back, his gloved hand squeezing your waist as he moves you every which way he pleases because you're so small to him, so easy, and he growls under his breath when he touches the curve of your hips or the fat of your ass.
maybe you might enjoy it if he wasn't so fucking awkward about it. if he didn't stare at you without blinking. if he didn't adjust his cock in his jeans right in front of you. if he didn't grip you by the back of your head, tugging you any way he wanted as if scolding a kitten using the scruff of their neck.
you think the team would notice by now--that they would step in, tell ghost to back off, but they turn a blind eye. they tolerate this behavior, and you don't know if it's because ghost is so good at his job, they don't want to, or that they are so afraid of him, they refuse to say anything.
or maybe they approve. maybe it keeps ghost at bay. maybe it keeps a lion in his den. a spider in its nest. maybe indulging ghost in his fucked form of flirting and socialization is what keeps the foundations of this team right where it needs to be--and you realize, slowly, that maybe that is why you're here.
because ghost likes them soft, and they need to put a muzzle on their dog.
so when you feel him in the dark, slipping a gloved hand under the blanket that keeps you warm at night, he is pleasantly surprised to find you awake. and even more surprised to feel your hand slipping the soft lace of your panties right into his fucking pocket.
"they teach y'that 'n basic training? how ta give y'r knickers to y'r lieutenant, eh?"
"no," you whisper, and when you meet his eyes in the dark, he looks so hungry. he's untamed, no training, he's used to getting what he wants with no resistance. you turn over in bed, and you don't get to see the way he sucks on his teeth when you let your knees fall, revealing the pretty place between your thighs, soft and puffy and wet, just waiting for a good mutt to eat her up. "but i learned other things."
"tha' right?"
"yeah," you say softly, and you turn over onto your stomach, pushing back onto your knees right in front of him. he bends, leaning over until he's pushing his masked face right into the seam of your cunt, and you grip the sheets tight when he inhales deeply, a rumble following as both of his hands grip either side of your ass and spread you open for him. you're drooling, wetting the nylon fabric, and you gasp when you feel the wet, warm muscle of his tongue suck on your folds through the mask. it's lewd, and you're wetting the material so much it sticks to the strong lines of his face, but he continues, tilting his head to the side as he laps at the pretty slick that dampens your thighs.
"what'd y'learn then, swee'eart?"
not how to fuck your lieutenant. but...you did learn to keep them happy.
"h-how to be a good girl."
and you think you feel him smile.
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writersdrug · 3 months ago
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Someone sent an anonymous ask about Soap being all whiny and jealous, complaining to Simon about how lucky he is to have such a pretty, curvy girl and Tumblr swallowed it 😫 (This is gonna be a 2 parter)
Warnings: nsfw, threesome, sub soap and reader, dom ghost, training, voyeurism
But I can imagine Ghost would be so sick and tired of it. Johnny's constantly yapping like the mutt he truly is: "Yer a lucky man, LT. Findin' a pretty bird like that." "Where'd ye get her? Need to find one for myself." "She as soft as she sounds?"
Ghost wants to snap at him for talking about you like that - he shouldn't be talking about you at all. But he knows the poor man is just lonely, aching to have something soft and supple like you. Your smiling face smushed between Ghost's fingers when you come to drop off the lunch he forgot. The jeans that fit snuggly around your ass and thighs, the shirt that hugs the swell of your breasts, stretched thin as it barely contains them... poor Johnny boy can't help but whine at the sight of something so appetizing, so soft and warm right there - he's jealous of his LT. How did someone so hard around the edges pluck something so sweet?
Simon hates to see him so upset, pouting in the corner like a scolded puppy as you stare at your boyfriend with stars in your eyes. Johnny could have a girl, but he gets overeager: fucking them on the first date, leaving them sore and bitten and tearful. He's too rough, and they're quick to excuse themselves, fleeing the next morning and blocking him from all social media.
Johnny needs to learn to be patient and gentle with his toys. He's nice enough to let the sergeant practice with his own pretty girl, and you're more than happy to assist Soap with his green-eyed monster.
After a nice dinner at his LT's house, served by you - along with some bronze, liquid courage - Johnny sits on the recliner, chatting with Ghost, who's relaxed on the sofa. You enter the living room and stand next to Simon, biting your lip excitedly and staring between the two of them. Simon wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you to sit on the arm of the sofa.
"Y' think she's pretty?" He asks Johnny, who blinks.
Gorgeous. Comely. Ravishing. "Course I do." He responds plainly, trying not to get worked up over the way you're perched next to his LT so prettily.
"Yea, you do..." Simon mutters, squeezing the flesh at your thigh. "What's it you said? 'She must look nice, spillin' out my hands’?"
Soap is nothing short of mortified. His eyes are wide, staring back at Simon - he doesn't know what to say. He said those things within the secrecy of his conversation with his lieutenant - he didn't expect him to repeat it outside of that bubble, let alone in front of you, the person in question.
"N' what else was it? 'Need t' have a pretty li'l wife with a rack like that to lay my head-"
"Simon!!"
Soap finally glares at his LT, his fingers digging into his own thighs. His heart is pounding in his chest. Is Ghost trying to get you to hate him?
You giggle and stand upright. "It's ok, Johnny." You coo, slowly walking over to him with your hands behind your back. "I like it. It means you like me."
Soap has little time to do anything but grunt when you swing a leg over his thighs and seat yourself in his lap. Your cleavage is right there, just inches from his face, and he can feel the bare skin of your thighs burning through his trousers.
"Help me take this off?" You tug at the skirt of your dress, looking down at him with those innocent, glossy eyes.
He can't breathe. His clothes are too hot and too tight, his cock nearly choking in the confines of his pants. He looks to his lieutenant for help - Ghost just smiles, like he's watching his favorite porn. He might be, depending on how this plays out.
"Go on, Johnny. Slowly."
Johnny wants to be anything but slow, once he realizes his best friend is showing you off like a collectible toy. He looks back up at you, watching the way your plump lip catches between your teeth. He carefully reaches around, grabbing the back of your neckline and tugging the zipper down - slowly, as he was instructed. He can barely focus on the movement with your breasts right there, imagining what they'd taste like between his warm lips. The shoulders of your dress fall away, revealing the lacy bra you're wearing. He looks up at you, drool pooling under his tongue as you slide your hands over his shoulders, one coming around to play with the base of his mohawk.
"You can take it off." You whisper.
He wastes no time, his hands smoothing up your back and unclasping your bra in one motion. He helps you pull it from your shoulders - your breasts, round and full, now pressing against his chest. He wants to touch. He needs to touch.
He shoots a hungry, pleading look to Ghost - he nods back at Soap, which is all the sergeant needs to absolve his filthy behavior. He closes your breast in his palm, eyes hazy as he takes your nipple into his warm mouth. He hardly has to move his head forward because you lean into his mouth, your fingers grasping at his hair and your back arching deliciously. Johnny groans, using one hand to dig his fingers into the thick flesh at your hips, and his other to press his palm against your lower back. He shifts himself down as his tongue swirls around your nipple, groans leaving his throat and reverberating against the bud, quickly hardening from his ministrations. You sound so sweet, high-pitched coos and soft breaths pouring from between your lips as you press your weight against Soap, shoving your breast as far into his mouth as he can take. You kiss the crown of his head, whispering a good boy against his skin.
He practically whines, bucking his hips upwards, relishing in how your body grounds him into the sofa cushions. He releases your breast with a pop and quickly takes the other one into his hand, sealing his lips over it with a hum. He looks up at you through wanting, begging eyes as you toss your head back, squeezing your thighs around his hips. His tongue undulates against your stiffening peak, slobbering around the underside of your breast as he gives you another experimental jerk of his hips. You gasp, rolling your hips back down onto him and staring at him with your lust-blown pupils.
His cock is demanding to be let free. He's going to fuck you hard, he's going to pound you into the chair until you're begging, showing his LT just how much of a good boy he is. He's never felt this blazing forest fire within his veins, setting off nerve after nerve and burning a trail right down to his hard, throbbing member.
He hooks his fingers into the hem of your soaked panties, fully intending to rip them off - but you quickly grab his wrist and yank his hand away. He looks at you, blinking through his trance as a look of confusion settles on his face. "Wha's wrong?"
You giggle his expression - the sound goes straight to his tip with another rush of blood. "These are for Simon." you whisper, slowly pushing yourself off of Soap's lap. He lets his arms fall to his sides with a desperate look, letting you back away, right into Ghost's waiting lap.
"Gonna show ya a thing or two, Johnny." he says, pulling you back to his chest. "Teach ya a few tricks, maybe you'll be able t' keep a woman longer than a day." he pulls a switchblade from his pocket and flicks it open. The blade drags down over your belly - you chew your lip as it electrifies your skin, the tip sliding lower and lower until he's running it over your pussy. The fabric is soaked as he lingers there, the sharp edge barely separated from your cunt by your flimsy, drenched panties.
You stare at Soap, not once breaking eye contact as Ghost slices through the fabric. Soap's mouth is agape in disbelief and lust, enamored by the sight before him. He can't tear his eyes from the view of your sopping, glistening pussy, watching as Simon slides his thick fingers over your folds. He catches his thumb under the hood of your clit and you jolt, shooting a hand down to grab his wrist - but he doesn't stop. You whine and mewl, leaning your head back against his shoulder as he flicks the bud, strumming over it slowly.
He stares Soap in the eyes, watching his reaction. "Alright there, Johnny?"
He's drooling, mouth hung open, hypnotized by the way your muscles clench with each stroke of Simon’s thumb. “… Aye…” he manages to say – his fingers dig into the cushions beneath him as he tries to control the urge to tear across the room and drive his cock into your cunt, fucking you against his lieutenant’s chest the way you deserve: rough and hard. Simon’s been teasing you too long; you need to be ravaged, orgasm after orgasm pulled from you, faster than you can think.
“Let me have a go, yea?” he says boldly, looking at Simon with desperation. “That’s what this is, right? Ye want me to fuck ‘er nice? I’ll do it. I’ll do it, sir – I’ll take good care of her-“
“No you won’t.” Simon interjects before the dog can get too riled up. His fingers are now strumming up and through your folds, and you’re panting and staring at Johnny with needy desire. “’S why you can’t keep anyone. You’re too eager.”
The truth shoots through Soap’s chest like an arrow, and he meets Simon’s gaze. He’s obviously rock-hard in his trousers, he won’t even attempt to hide it. Simon’s got a cocky, knowing smirk on his face, and you… poor you is just wishing Simon would spit out what he wants to say, so the three of you could get on with the show.
“Gonna teach you a few secrets, sergeant.” Simon says, and Soap isn’t sure what to think about having his rank used in this situation. “My girl needs to cum.” He pulls his fingers away from you – you whine in frustration, but are quickly silenced when two, thick digits are stuffed into your mouth. You obediently clean off your own slick with your tongue, looking back down at Johnny with a heavy, lidded stare.
“I’ll make her cum.” Soap says quickly. If this is a matter of whether or not he can make someone cum, he’ll pass that test easily.
“You’ll do it right.” Simon growls. “Need to understand the difference between getting’ your cock wet and pleasuring ‘er. ‘S my girl ‘n I won’t have you roughhousing ‘er. Got it?”
Soap’s throat bobs as he swallows. It was another task, another order from his superior. He clears his mind of any preprogrammed, lustful thoughts, sent straight to his brain from his achingly hard member – this wasn’t about him. It was about following instructions. He was a good soldier, he could do that much.
“Yes sir.”
Simon nods. He shifts hips, pulling his fingers from your lipsand grabbing your hips. You grab his forearms for support as he spreads his muscular thigs, forcing your legs farther apart as they rest on either side of his knees. Slick dribbles down from your pussy and onto Simon’s length, which is about to tear a hole through his pants.
“Then get to it. Sick of hearin’ you yap all day about not bein’ able to keep a girl. Put your mouth to good use – we’re about to fix that.”
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nighttimealone · 3 months ago
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Cw: Nsfw (gym owner+ your personal trainer Simon)
Simon notices you the moment you step into the gym. nervous, pretty, looked entirely out of place. He greets you with a nod and a gruff “Hello” when you saunter to the counter and look up at him timidly. Gleaming doe eyes meeting his and a bit intimidated by his presence.
“I want…want to sign up for the course…” your voice comes out soft and quiet, still a bit scared by the wall of man in front of you. His lips curl upward slightly, though his schedule is pretty tight already, but he doesn’t mind squeezing time out just for a cute and beautiful girl like you.
“The only time I’m free now is 21:00.” Simon said, asking if you’re okay with it, and you agree without a doubt. This is the gym closest to your place, and has the highest rating among others, you don’t mind if the session will start a bit later in the night.
He’s a great personal trainer, like the what the comments say on the internet. He’s meticulous, knows how to effectively improve your stance. You’re not sure if it’s normal for personal trainers to stand this close when you’re squatting, so close that you can feel the heat radiating off him, his breath fanning on the nape of your neck. maybe he just wants to make sure you won’t accidentally hurt yourself, you think to yourself after few sessions with him.
Simon can’t forget the first session, you step into the gym with the sports bra and gym shorts, hair tied into a high bun that shows off your flawless neck, he wonders how smooth it will feel when he runs his fingers along it. His chest touches your rear when you’re lifting weights, “In case your grip slips.” He tells you when he sees the confusion in your eyes. His eyes glued on your hips when you just finished few reps of lying leg curls, ass cheeks so nice and supple, you breathe a bit fast as you keep lying on the training machine, unaware of him try not to form a boner from ogling at your moist lips and the contours of your body.
You’re a bit frustrated with the progress you made so far, asking him if you’re not working hard enough. Your slight pout is too adorable, and he resists the urge not to swipe his thumb over your bottom lip. “You’re doing alright, give your body some time to build muscles.” Simon reassures you, but he can still see the chagrin on your face. You’re stressed out, he can tell, and as your personal trainer, it’s his job to help his student unwind, yeah?
The disappointment and anxiety are thrown to the back of your mind when he sits on the bench in front of the mirror, two fingers deep inside you, twirling and pressing the gooey spots with you moaning on his lap.
“Look at the mirror, sweetheart, look how beautiful you look when your little pussy’s swallowing my fingers.” His other hand move to your chin, turn your head towards the mirror. You can see his smug smile even with that disposable mask on, his fingers shoved deep into your cunt, bring out your profuse juices when he drags his fingers out. The scene is too embarrassing, your cheeks flush with arousal and shyness when you shift your gaze away from the mirror.
“Look at the mirror, love.” His tongue clicks twice, tone firm without any space for you to reject, so you obediently look back, let out a high-pitched sweet whine as you watch how his cock sinks into your tight cunt, pussy lips pushed aside to fit his fat cock. “Fucking pussy so tight, so perfect…fuck…” He inhales deeply, landing a soft swat on your bum and makes you yelp at the comfortable sting.
He definitely didn’t choose to schedule your session this late, that no one will be in gym except you two, so he can bend you over every surfaces here and fuck you till you squirt all over the nearest wall. His hips never cease, shows you how much stamina and strength he has as the best personal trainer. Pinning you over the machine you did lying leg curls, the angle of the it allows your ass to arch up and let him drive his pierced cock deeper, each piercings knead and glide through your spots one by one every time he slams his hips back.
When your thighs’ twitching even harder than they were after your leg days, you looking up at him with dazed eyes, entirely blissed out from how many mind blowing orgasms he gave you, Simon lifts you up again, easily maneuver you to hook your knees over his elbows, he pushes his cum-drenched dick inside again, still rock hard and ready to wrench yet another release from your heavenly cunny. He walks you to the mirror again, every steps makes his hips bucks and cock thrust up in the force, and all you can do is moan and whimper. “too much, too much Simon…”
But He only huffs out a laughter at your words while he stops in front of the mirror, giving you the full view to the reflection—your fucked dumb expression, thighs spread widely and supported by his strong arms, pussy swollen and clit peaks out from the folds, yet your tight walls still massaging his cock nicely as if you’re trying to please him.
“So perfect, princess. look just right when you’re in my arms.” Simon presses a kiss to your shoulder, adjust his grip and let your weight help him to reach the deepest, the tip of his shaft rest against your cervix. “Let’s have the next round on the leg press machine, yeah? I know you hate doing leg press the most, maybe you’ll be more pliant the next time, because you know how I’ll make you soak that seat after the session ends, hmm?”
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simonbrain · 3 months ago
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love the idea of reader just trying to fuck all her stress out with a random at the bar before returning back to her mundane life, and simon deciding he's going to keep her instead 🙂‍↕️
the prick doesn't budge when you try to kick him out; instead, he drags you back into bed and works his mouth to loosen you up again, and now you've forgotten why you were trying to haul his ass out of your home.
(you attempted to sound stern while telling him to get out of your house, but he merely chuckled, the sound so raspy and condescending that it stroked a heat within you that you thought was sated last night.
"this is our home. now get your arse back in bed, i'm fuckin' hungry.")
you had to really fist at his hair to pull him off of you, and that only turned him on if the deep groan rumbling out of him was anything to go by—you swear his tongue sunk deeper inside you. he only relented so he could fuck you dumb in the shower after, leaving you with trembling legs and feeling more dirty than clean (atta girl, don't you waste any of tha'—keep it all in).
you blink, and now suddenly you're seated as he spoon-feeds you a nice, hearty breakfast, huffing something like messy girl when toast crumbs get all over your face and the wooden table.
words can't express how flustered you are; you're too stunned to even continue telling the big man who's now feeding you scrambled eggs that he needs to leave. all you feel like you're capable of doing is opening your mouth to accept another spoonful, ignoring the ache you feel between your thighs when you catch his heavy stare and hear a low hum of approval.
then he's leaving (and it's not because of your nagging), muttering something about having to work those mutts to the bone today, all while you're trying to make sense of what's happening. he gives you a sloppy kiss to silence your questions and exasperation, one that makes you feel hot all over and almost melt into a puddle had it not been for the firm grip he had on your ass.
he licks his lips when he pulls back, eyes darting to where your shirt just barely covers where he'd rather be all day than having to go and train recruits. he stares for an uncomfortably long time and before you can speak up, face growing a little hot from the tension, he's turning around to finally leave.
before the door shuts, he says, "be a good girl, ay? see you tonight, birdie."
you're left with your thoughts and feelings of dread and anxiety. there definitely isn't any underlying interest or anything; the freak has fucked your brain out of your head, that's all. you're sure he didn't even mean it anyway. maybe. hopefully.
a drop of his come rolls down your thigh, and arousal shame burns through you. since when did you let one-night stands finish in you?
(your so-called one-night stand came home hungry and pissed, so worked up that he dragged you over to the nearest surface and played with you for a good hour. by the time you had half the mind to tell him about the dinner in the oven—your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets at how much money he had sent you for groceries earlier, nevermind how he got ahold of your account details—he grunted and finally gave your poor pussy a break, scarred mug all slick and flushed.)
good luck when he takes you to meet his mates at the bar a week later, the same bar you brought him home from; the comments from them make you wish a hole in the ground would just swallow you right up.
"pretty thing ye caught, lt," johnny grins, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. he's a bit over the top, ogles your chest too hard, but overall he's... alright. you'd probably notice how perverted he really was if you actually looked at him longer than a few fleeting glances, but his stare is kind of unnerving.
kyle—perfection personified—hums in agreement, a warm smile on his face that puts you at ease. somehow you don't pick up on the ulterior motive behind his gaze running over your body, eyes roaming over your chest more discreetly than johnny but just as appreciative. "pretty indeed. you don't mind sharing, do you ghost?" kyle teases, pretty eyes glancing over at simon, who only huffs at that and shakes his head (much to your confusion).
who the fuck is ghost? you only know big guy and simon.
there's a deep chuckle and your focus flits over to the man seated in front of you, captain john price. if you thought simon was scary, john's a man who demands respect and attention just by being in his presence. "you chose the wrong dog to bring home," john hums, voice deep and gravelly and making you shamefully squeeze your thighs together.
"but that's alright, sweetheart. you have three others now, yeah?" the purr that comes out of his mouth is sinful, and when you nod and stammer out a yes, sir as if you were one of his soldiers and not the sweet girl that simon has brought to his captain, looking for approval of his newest toy, he only smiles.
simon's hand squeezes your thigh underneath the table, trailing upwards, and you're slowly understanding what it is that you've gotten yourself into.
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