#I am. slamming the door HARD on your ass on the way out

[greengoblinswifey]

Sins of the Flesh— Father Charlie Mayhew x Nun!Reader

summary— returning to your life of sin, you’re determined to tempt the one man bound by his faith, your hot priest.

warnings— sacrilege, smoking, dubious morality, daddy kink, degradation, praise kink, father/priest kink, face slapping, spitting kink, ass slapping, choking, face fucking, oral, blasphemy, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Growing up, your parents knew there was something off about you, always defying authority, always choosing to do the wrong things, and it was always your way or the high way. You grew up religious, or at least they tried to raise in that way but you were always defiant.

As soon as you were old enough they gave you to the only church that would take you, they thought religion would change you, they thought being a nun make you new as promised.

As soon as you laid eyes on Father Charlie Mayhew, your old ways slowly crept back upon you, reminding you, you were still that depraved little girl. They thought making you become a nun would cause you to forget the worldly life you lived before, smoking, fucking your teachers, your father’s friends, sneaking out, partying, for a moment you even thought so too. But the thoughts ran rampant in your head the moment you laid your eyes on your new priest.

Just like before, you would do anything to get what you wanted, and that included Father Charlie.

You lighted the cigarette between your fingers, watching as the sun set at the back of the church. It was empty, you didn’t know where the other nuns were and frankly you didn’t care. All day you waited in the church for Father Charlie to show up, draped in white thigh high stockings, a short sexy backless black dress showing your ass and the veil covering your head. Tonight was the night you would get your heart’s desire and you knew that desire, desired you too.

The church was silent, save for the soft creak of the door as Father Charlie stepped in. He squinted against the dim light filtering through the stained-glass windows, his gaze narrowing on the figure sitting at the front pew. At first, he thought his eyes were betraying him. The curve of a bare back gleamed in the candlelight. Surely, no one would dare—

But then you stood.

His breath hitched as his heart slammed against his ribcage. You turned to face him, and he stumbled back a step, nearly dropping the Bible he carried.

There you were.

White thigh-high stockings clung to your legs, the black dress you wore clinging to every curve and showing your ass. It wasn’t just revealing—it was sacrilege. A skimpy, backless thing that barely grazed your thighs, with a mockery of a nun's veil perched on your head. The candlelight danced along your exposed skin as if taunting him, daring him to look.

“Good evening, Father,” you said, voice low, smooth, dangerous.

He swallowed hard, clutching the cross that hung from his neck like a lifeline. “I rebuke you,” he stammered, raising the cross in trembling hands. “I rebuke this- this evil—”

You took a step closer, your heels clicking softly against the stone floor. He froze, the words caught in his throat as you raised a single finger to his lips. The touch silenced him instantly.

“Shh,” you whispered, plucking the cross from his hand and placing it gently on the bench. His breath came in shallow gasps, and he swore the metal burned against your skin, but you didn’t flinch.

“Sister Y/N,” he managed, his voice cracking, “what… what is this? What are you wearing? This—this is not of God!”

You tilted your head, a smirk playing on your lips. “Of God?” you echoed, your tone dripping with mockery. “Charlie, I was never of God. This is who I am. This is who I’ve always been. And deep down, you’ve always known that.”

He shook his head fiercely, the words tumbling from his lips in desperation. “Flee from sin, sister! ‘Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own.’” His voice trembled, reciting the verse as though it could shield him.

You laughed—a soft, dangerous sound that sent a shiver down his spine. “No verse, no prayer, no scripture is going to change what I feelwhen I see you, Charlie.”

He flinched at the use of his name, his throat working as he tried to swallow the lump forming there.

“What I feel,” you continued, stepping closer, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper, “when I see your hands clutching that cross, when I see the way you look at me right now, Tell me, Father, does your heart race for God? Or is it something else entirely?”

“I—” he began, but the words died on his tongue.

You leaned in, close enough for him to feel the heat radiating from you, and his knees threatened to buckle. “You can fight it all you want,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his ear. “But we both know the truth. Temptation has already won.”

“Shut up, you Jezebel!” Charlie’s voice thundered through the empty church, though his trembling hands betrayed his conviction. “Temptation will never win!”

You only laughed, the sound sultry and mocking. “Really?” you said, running your hands slowly over your breasts, fingers teasing the curve of your waist before sliding down along your hips. His eyes flickered, darting between your hands and your face, his lips pressing into a thin line. “You’re staring at me, Father. You’re watching. That alone proves you wrong. Temptation already won.”

“No,” he hissed, gripping the Bible tighter as though it could anchor him. But his voice lacked the weight of conviction now, cracking under the pressure of your nearness, your audacity.

You stepped closer, your movements slow, deliberate, the heels of your shoes clicking against the stone floor. “You’re holding that Bible like it’ll save you,” you said, your tone soft but dripping with wicked amusement. “Deep down, you think resisting me will make God go easier on you, don’t you?”

His jaw clenched, but he didn’t move when you reached out and plucked the Bible from his hands. He didn’t even flinch when you grabbed the white stole draped over his shoulders and threw it to the floor.

“Enough,” he growled, but his voice was weak, his breath shallow.

“Enough?” you echoed with a smirk before smashing your lips against his.

The kiss was all teeth and desperation, as though both of you had been starving for touch. He resisted for only a moment, his hands hovering uncertainly at his sides, before he gave in. His fingers curled around your bare back, trailing lower until they squeezed your ass hard enough to make you gasp against his lips.

“God forgive me,” he whispered against your mouth, though his actions spoke louder.

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, your lips curling into a wicked smile. “You’ve already lost, Father.”

His breathing was ragged, his chest heaving as you grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the raised chair where he would sit during sermons. He stumbled after you, confusion flashing across his face. “What are you doing—”

You shoved him down into the chair, the power dynamic shifting completely. His eyes widened as you dropped to your knees in front of him, your hands working quickly at his belt. “Stop this—” he began, but the words fell flat as your smirk deepened.

“You can’t even convince yourself anymore, Charlie.”

When you pulled his pants and boxers down, he froze, his jaw tightening. “You’re—filthy,” he growled, though the raw need in his eyes betrayed him.

You grinned, your hands trailing teasingly along his thighs. “And yet, here you are. Letting me suck your cock. Watching me.”

“You’re a disgrace,” he muttered, his voice shaking as he gripped the edge of the chair, trying not to let himself fall completely. But when you took him down your throat, his head fell back against the chair, a groan escaping his lips despite himself.

“Say it again, Father,” you teased, pausing just long enough to look up at him. “Tell me how terrible I am.”

“You’re disgusting,” he spat, his hand finding its way to the back of your head. “You’re nothing but a shameless little whore in a costume.”

“And you’re no better,” you countered, your voice dripping with triumph. “You’re the one holding me here. You’re the one losing control.”

He cursed under his breath, his fingers tightening in your hair after ripping the veil off. “This means nothing.”

You smiled, your voice a soft whisper as you worked. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Father.”

For a moment, the church was silent except for the ragged sound of his breathing and the gagging sounds you made on his cock. You were all doe eyed, staring up at him as you bobbed your head fast, taking him feel in your throat like you were starved.

Charlie’s grip on your curls tightened, his control unraveling with every passing second. His composure shattered as he let out a guttural moan, his body trembling as he gave in completely, letting his cum shoot down your throat. His breath was ragged, his chest heaving as he looked down at you, his face torn between anger and shame.

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, your smirk as wicked as ever. “Well, well,” you teased, your voice dripping with mockery. “Are you ashamed, Father? Ashamed you’re nothing but a filthy little man-whore?”

The words barely left your mouth before his hand cracked against your cheek, the sharp sound echoing through the empty church. Your head snapped to the side, your cheek stinging, but instead of backing down, you slowly turned back to him, sticking out your tongue with a defiant grin.

“Again, Daddy,” you said, the name deliberately provocative.

His jaw clenched, his fury rising as he struck you again, harder this time. The sting only made your grin widen as your hands shamelessly cupped your breasts, pushing them together. “That all you’ve got?” you purred, daring him further.

“You’re insufferable,” he growled, his voice thick with frustration. But instead of another slap, he grabbed your wrist and yanked you up, pulling you over his lap in one swift motion.

“Hey—” you began, but the words turned into a startled squeal as he shoved you forward, leaving your ass high in the air.

“What are you—”

The first smack landed hard on your exposed skin, cutting off your question and replacing it with a gasp.

“You think you’re in control here?” he muttered, his hand coming down again, leaving a sharp sting that radiated across your skin.

Each spank made you squeal, your hands gripping his thigh as you tried to steady yourself. Your cheeks burned—not just from the spanking but from the sheer humiliation of it. Yet deep down, you knew the truth. Your plan had backfired and in the best way possible.

By the time he finished, your brown skin was bruised and throbbing, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

“Look at you,” he said, his voice low and almost taunting as he ran a hand over your sore skin. “A filthy little Jezebel who thought she could win.”

You lifted your head, still defiant even through the haze of embarrassment. “And yet, here we are, Father,” you said, your voice breathless.

He snorted, pulling you up and setting you in the chair where he usually sat, the shift in power unmistakable.

“Let’s see how a slut like you tastes,” he muttered, dropping to his knees before you.

For the first time, the smugness faltered from your expression, replaced with genuine surprise as he pushed your knees apart and leaned forward. His tongue was hot and deliberate, and your gasp quickly turned into a moan as your back arched against the chair.

“Oh, look at you,” he murmured between strokes, his tone switching from harsh to saccharine. “Squirming like the desperate whore you are. Is this what you wanted? To be worshipped like the sinner you are?”

Your hands flew to his hair, tangling in the slicked-back strands as your head tilted back, your breath coming in broken gasps. “You’re pathetic,” you managed, the words breaking through your moans. “A priest on his knees, doing this.”

He groaned against you, the vibrations shooting through your body. “Say whatever you want, Jezebel,” he muttered, his lips brushing against sensitive skin. “You’re mine now.”

Your legs began to tremble, your grip tightening in his hair as he worked you relentlessly, dragging you closer and closer to the edge. “Charlie,” you gasped, your voice rising into a desperate cry. “You’re so—”

But the words dissolved into a scream as release hit you, your body shaking uncontrollably. Your hands fisted in his hair, holding him in place until you finally collapsed against the chair, your body limp.

Charlie pulled back, his lips glistening as he smirked up at you, a mix of pride and defiance in his eyes.

“Well?” he asked, his voice low and smug. “Still think you’re in control?”

You leaned forward, your grin as wicked as ever. “Always,” you purred.

His hand shot out, gripping your throat firmly, cutting off your attempt to take control. His gaze was dark, his breath heavy, but his dominance was clear.

“Enough,” Charlie growled, his voice low and commanding. “This is my show now. You want to play games, little bitch? Let’s see how far you’ll go.”

With a sudden pull, he dropped into the seat, hauling you onto his lap. Before you could react, he positioned you above him, and with one forceful motion, he made you sink down onto him.

Your head fell back with a sharp cry, the sound echoing in the vast emptiness of the church. “Oh, my—”

“Don’t you dare,” he interrupted, his grip tightening on your hips. “You don’t get to call His name like this.”

The stretch was unbearable, a delicious burn that left you gasping, trembling as you tried to adjust. His hand came down hard on your ass, the sharp sting making you jolt.

“Move,” he commanded, his voice rough. “Do what you so desperately wanted, sinner.”

You obeyed, slowly lifting yourself before dropping down again, each movement drawing a gasp from your lips. The sensation was overwhelming, and the pace you set was erratic, your body struggling to keep up.

Charlie’s laugh was deep and cruel. “Look at you,” he mocked, his fingers digging into your waist. “Can’t even handle what you started. Struggling already?”

“I can—” you started, but your words turned into a whimper as he thrust up into you, his movements brutal and precise.

“You can’t even lie convincingly,” he said with a smirk, slapping your ass again as he began to move beneath you. “But don’t worry—I’ll make sure you learn what happens to disobedient little brats.”

As his pace increased, the sound of your bodies meeting filled the room. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you tried to hold on, your cries growing louder with each motion. But then, with a sudden crack, the sound of a cross falling from the wall startled you both.

You froze, your chest heaving as you glanced toward it. The heavy wooden symbol lay on the ground, its impact still in the air.

“There’s no going back now,” he said, his tone dark as he pulled your gaze back to him. “Might as well see this through.”

With renewed determination, you began moving again, his hands guiding you as you bounced on him. Your breath hitched, your body trembling as you neared the edge.

“Be a good girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “Come on, Jezebel. Let go for me.”

His words sent you spiraling, and you cried out as the coil in your belly snapped, your release shuddering through you. Your body shook, but he didn’t stop.

Instead, Charlie gripped you tightly and stood, lifting you as though you weighed nothing. You barely had time to catch your breath before he pressed you against the pulpit, the sacred space now a backdrop to his unrelenting desire.

His thrusts were harsh and deliberate, driving you further into the wood. “Open your mouth,” he ordered, his voice like a growl.

You obeyed, your lips parting as he leaned closer. His spit landed on your tongue, and he watched with dark satisfaction as you swallowed without hesitation.

“Good girl,” he said, a cruel smirk on his lips as he kept moving, his pace relentless.

You gripped his shoulders, your nails digging in as you gasped, “You’re pathetic. A priest defiling his own church.”

“And you’re nothing but a filthy little sinner,” he shot back, his voice laced with both anger and satisfaction. “But look at you—begging for it.”

Your body tensed again, the heat building as his movements pushed you closer and closer. With a final, shattering cry, you came undone once more, your legs trembling as you clung to him.

“Daddy,” you panted.

Charlie’s breath was heavy, his face inches from yours as he stilled, a mixture of triumph and shame in his eyes.

“You’ll never win,” he said, his voice low and hoarse.

You smirked, your voice soft but dripping with defiance. “I already have.”

You slid off him slowly, your legs shaking as you steadied yourself. Turning to the altar, you leaned forward, arching your back and wiggling your hips with a teasing grin.

“It’s your turn, daddy,” you purred, your voice dripping with mockery. “Don’t Catholics believe in not wasting their seed? Isn’t it—sinful?”

Charlie froze, his jaw tightening as his eyes raked over your form, spread open and shameless against the sacred altar. His fists clenched, but his resolve cracked.

“You’re despicable,” he growled, stepping closer. “Arching yourself like that—mocking this holy place.”

“And yet,” you teased, glancing back at him, “here you are.”

The last thread of his control snapped. Dropping to his knees, Charlie grabbed your hips and slapped your ass hard, the sound echoing through the quiet church. “You’re such a filthy little temptress,” he spat, positioning himself behind you.

With one swift motion, he sank into you, pulling a sharp gasp from your lips. His grip on your waist was bruising as he set a punishing rhythm, each movement driving you forward against the altar.

“You’re so tight,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

“All for you, Father,” you taunted, glancing over your shoulder with a smirk. “If you keep being this filthy priest, maybe I’ll keep being your little sinner and you’ll keep fucking this tight pussy.”

He groaned, his fingers digging into your flesh as you pushed back against him, meeting his every thrust. His words came harsh and degrading, but his voice carried a grudging admiration. “You’re disgusting. Throwing yourself at me like this—like a cheap little whore.”

“And you love it,” you countered, your voice breathy as you moved against him. “Admit it, Charlie, you’ve wanted this. You’ve wanted me.”

“You’re mine,” he snarled, his hands sliding up to grip your waist, pulling you harder against him. “Do you hear me? Mine. My little bitch. And you’re going to cum on my cock again, aren’t you?”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and your body trembled as the pressure built. With a sharp cry, you lost control, shuddering as your release consumed you. You squirted on your priest and the altar, gasping for breath.

“You’re so sexy,” Charlie groaned, his pace becoming frantic. “So hard to resist, but you’re mine now. Beg for my cum.”

“Please,” you gasped, your voice breaking. “Please, daddy, I need it.”

“That’s right,” he growled. “You’re going to take it—all of it. I’ll fill you up until you’re mine completely.”

You let out a breathless laugh, glancing back at him with defiance. “Surely this baby will be the Antichrist,” you quipped, your smirk daring him to lose himself further.

Charlie slammed into you one final time, his grip tightening as he groaned loudly, his release marking the culmination of your forbidden encounter.

The two of you collapsed against the altar, tangled together and panting heavily. For a moment, the only sound in the church was your labored breathing.

“Look at us,” you murmured with a smirk, tracing a finger along his chest. “A priest and his sinner, tangled up on the altar. What would your God say?”

Charlie closed his eyes, his expression torn between satisfaction and shame. “Don’t speak,” he said hoarsely, his voice tinged with exhaustion.

But you only smiled, knowing you had him exactly where you wanted him.

[rubye402]

Read it. Don't fucking scroll past.

Gonna say this as someone who has been critical of Game Freak both as a fan and as someone with a Pokémon SPIN for a while now:

Do not support Palworld.

The CEO of Pocket Pair, the game’s studio, openly supports AI and even made a game where making AI-generated art is its main mechanic.

Palworld is not Pocket Pair’s first instance of plagiarism, either. Their previous game, Craftopia, plagiarizes Breath of the Wild, whereas as its upcoming game, Never Grave: The Witch and The Curse, plagiarizes from independent developer Team Cherry’s game, Hollow Knight.

On top of stolen character models and concepts from fakemon artists, it’s already known that you can put Pals through what is basically slave labor BUT what’s been recently discovered is that the game allows you to capture and sell humans. This has been raising some red flags for black gamers looking into these mechanics, me included, considering this factors into the established slave labor system of Palworld.

TL;DR: I completely understand being tired of Game Freak and the Pokémon Company’s lack of polish over the years, but supporting something that is just as devoid of polish and even more devoid of ingenuity is not the way to make those criticisms clearer. This will only encourage more soullessness in the industry.

I implore you to support other creature collectors with some real passion behind them; I will reblog this post with recommendations shortly!

[luna0713hunter]

Lover,Please stay

CEO!Sukuna is a big shot,every women and men's dream. Sometimes you wonder why he settled for someone like you.

The wine tastes bitter on your tongue as you take your first sip; wincing slightly. You've never been a fan of drinking,but when your rich boyfriend invites you out for some, who're you to say no? So you suck it up,and try to swing the drink around your glass instead of actually drinking it.

And it doesn't help that the liquor is bringing out all your doubts you've been having recently.

Instead,you try to focus on the man beside you; Sukuna is busy downing his third whiskey cause he's an absolute freak when it comes to drinking. His pink hair is out of its usually neat shape, probably because of the rough day he had at work; and you watch with careful eyes as he reaches his nibble fingers toward his tie and loses it while he throws back the last of his drink.

"you're staring."

You hum absentmindedly; hating how lightweight you are unlike your boyfriend. You've barely had a few sips for god's sake.

"and what if i am?"

But now, you're staring at the reddish liquid in your glass; your thoughts running wild in your mind. Because even if you want to; even if you desperately wish to, you cant ignore the whispers and giggles you hear from the tables near you. You cant pretend to not see the lustful gazes of the women all around you as soon as your boyfriend had stepped inside the bar.

And you surely cant not hear them giggling among themselves with nothing but vemon in their tone.

"oh my gosh,look at that hottie!!"

"hold on- is that...his partner?!"

"that cant be- i mean- look at HIM!"

"i know right?maybe he's just doing it out of pity or something?"

And you dont know if its the alcohol, or you own mind, but suddenly the bar feels too suffocating.

Too crowded. Too loud.

And its not really your fault; you've been having a shitty week, and you just wished to spend some quality time with you boyfriend. You didn't want to spend your Saturday night in a shitty bar,with some rich ass girls talking shit about you and your relationship.

And its the last straw when you hear their next words.

"oh screw it; I'm gonna hit on him! I'm sure he'd bored out his mind and need a break from his lame ass partner!"

"obviously they're not doing well; they haven't talked much since they walked in!"

So without a word,you suddenly stand up from your sit; slamming you glass hard on the wooden surface of the bar. Sukuna immediately looks your way, lips parting to say something, but you dont wait to hear what it is.

You just grab your purse and rush out of the door, almost stumbling to tables on your way out.

You think they might be laughing at you, but honestly you dont care. You just need some fresh air to cool your head.

And to stop the tears from falling on your burning cheeks.

You turn sharply in the alley just next to the bar; pressing your back to the cold wall behind as you slide down on the ground below. You hug your knees close to your chest as the first sob breaks through your lips.

God,you hate crying; specially because of what others say.

And you know; you know Sukuna's way out of your league. You know a hotshot like him can have anyone he wants,yet he settles for someone like you. You know all this, but that doesn't make it easier to hear it from others.

When you hear heavy footsteps inside the alley,you immensely start to brush your cheeks and eyes harshly; but your hands are immediately stopped midway by a pair of rough ones grabbing onto your wrists.

When you look up through teary eyes,Sukuna sighs at the sight of your red rimmed eyes and blushed cheeks.

"you're such a lightweight. How much did you even drink?"

"it's not because of the drink," you mumble, pulling at your hands to which Sukuna doesn't let you, "i didnt even finish my wine."

"then why are you crying,huh?" He sighs again, raising rough fingers to brush your tears away with such care that has you tearing up again. Sukuna 'tsks' and wipes your cheeks once more, ”tell me what's wrong."

You bury your face in your knees to avoid looking at him.

"you must've heard what those women said,Ryo. Dont play dumb."

"so what?"

You snap you head up.

"so what?! doesn't that bother you??"

Sukuna scoffs, shifting slightly. His dark eyes shine even in the barely lit alleyway,and you swallow upon seeing the look on his face.

He looks utterly pissed.

"why the fuck would it bother me what a bunch of good for nothing losers say?" He hold your chin and lowers his face until you can feel the his hot breath on your lips, "nothing in this world matters. Nothing. Except you,me,and us."

When your eyes water again,Sukuna sighs presses his forehead against yours.

"the world's gonna talk shit anyways; whether we like it or not. And i dont give a shit what other's think, because nothing will change the fact that i love you."

When you look up at him with wide, bleary eyes,Sukuna scoffs and pinches your cheek rather roughly.

"dont give me that look; I've said it before."

"Well!" You grumbled through pinched cheek, "you dont say it enough!"

An evil smirk makes way on his pink lips,and your face heats up when his fingers dance across your hips.

"then," you shiver as he pushes at the hem of your dress; taking hold on your upper thigh with a dangerous glint in his eyes, "guess I'll have to show it to you, don't you think doll?"

Your eyes flutter close when he finally presses his lips to yours; and right there and then,you know Sukuna never lies about loving you. After all, he's been always a man to show his love through his actions rather than words.

[jobean12-blog]

The Fine Print

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (CEO!Bucky AU)

Word Count: 4,126

Summary: You've been working under Bucky for almost a year and he's always been a grumpy ass and even though when the lines get blurred you can't seem to stay away.

Author's Note: These new pics and all the new gym shots and vids and yum! Just being fed so well! I like the idea of a grumpy CEO who just wants you and he's mad about it. No excuse for being a dick but he's not really all bad. And anyway, I'd never tell him no...haha! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Thank you Daisy for the lovely divider @firefly-graphics😘

Warnings: Grumpy ass Bucky (he's a total ass sometimes but has moments of softness), sassy reader, lots of tension, flirting, curses, fingering, light dirty talk

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You’re late. Only twenty minutes but it’s long enough that your grumpy ass of a boss will have your head for it.

Grumpy…and an ass but entirely too gorgeous.

You pick up the pace, precariously balancing your files and bags and hoping you don’t faceplant on the newly shined floors.

Getting a flat tire on the highway this morning wasn’t on your long to-do list for today, but it still happened and now you’ll have to deal with a very cranky Mr. Barnes.

You round the corner and enter your office, ready to give your usual sunshine filled greeting.

“Good morning, Mr. Barnes!”

He’s standing at your desk, arms crossed over his broad chest and his eyes hard.

“Is it a good morning?” he asks, not bothering to move out of the way as you try to slip around him. “What time is it?”

You stop and meet his glare.

“I had some car trouble this morning. I got a flat on my way in.”

Your voice comes out steady and strong and relief floods through you. This was the first time you were late, and you were not going to be reprimanded.

“Trouble is quite the fitting word for what I’ve been dealing with in your absence.”

You glance up at him and his antagonizing stare, and blink away your surprise at his words.

“I would have thought you would at least ask me if I was ok Mr. Barnes,” you say sweetly and with a smile. “After all, how could I possibly manage to fix a flat tire all on my own.”  

His jaw clenches tightly.

“Obviously you managed,” he counters. “And you look just fine.”

Beautiful blue eyes wander languidly down your body before making their slow perusal back up to study your face.

You try to school your features and when he raises an expectant brow you bite back with, “Thankfully I am fine, and I got help but I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with the burden of picking up a telephone and sending an e-mail all on your own this morning. It won’t happen again.”

He takes a step closer to you and you stop yourself from swaying forward to get a hint of his scent.

Traitorous body. If only the fucker wasn’t so fucking hot.

“You’re right. It won’t,” he replies with a smug smile. “And just so you don’t forget, I’d like to see…”

He spends the next minute rattling off several project pieces he’d like to see completed and on his desk by the end of the day.

“And then you can make up the half an hour you missed by getting together a mock presentation for our meeting tomorrow.”

When your nostrils flare, he smiles triumphantly and dips his head, so his warm breath caresses the shell of your ear.

“I’ll see you in the conference room at six.”

He turns away and slams his office door behind him and you let out an exasperated puff of air.

“It was only twenty minutes asshole.”

You mutter the words under your breath as you plop into your office chair and continue to curse his name in grumbles.

There’s a light knock on the door before it opens and you know you’re about to hear the voice of your friend and coworker, Jess.

“I know you’re working through lunch,” she says. “So at least let me get you something.”

You don’t look up but smile nonetheless, your fingers flying over the keyboard with ease.

“Honestly, I don’t even think I have time to eat,” you say before hitting the period button hard and meeting her eyes.

Jess gives you a sympathetic look. “I’ll grab you something nutritious.”

She waves before gently shutting the door. You lean over to check your desk drawer for snacks, the mention of lunch reminding you that you are in fact, hungry. At the same time that you see you have nothing to eat you notice a tear in your stockings.

“Son of a bitch,” you grumble. “I just bought these.”

Less than a minute later your door opens again and without looking up from your screen you whine, “do you know what, after the morning I’ve had I think I’ll take something sweet…maybe a cookie. Or twelve. Or chocolate of any kind.”

When you receive no acknowledgement, in return you glance up and see that Jess is not standing at your door.

You quickly tug the hem of your skirt down, noting how Bucky’s eyes track the movement and linger on your legs.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes, I didn’t realize…”

“Since your morning has been so awful,” he starts, his sly smile growing, “why don’t you run down to the café and pick us both up some lunch.”

Your lips purse and once again his eyes seem glued to every action you take.

“Mr. Barnes, Jess has just come in and said she would grab me something to eat so I can continue working through lunch.”

When he doesn’t say anything, you continue.

“I have A LOT to get done.”

“I’m sure you’ll make it work,” he says before rattling off his lunch order.

He turns on his heel and takes two long strides back to his office, pulling the door closed hard behind him.

“What the f…?”

You don’t even finish the sentence when he opens the door again and pokes his head out.

“Make sure you get yourself something to eat. We’re going to be here late.”

The door slams shut again, and you abruptly stand, your rolling chair flying back into the wall as you storm off.

“Why does he care if I eat or not?” you ask yourself as you angrily stuff things into your bag and throw it over your shoulder.

The rest of the day goes by far too quickly and you find yourself cursing out the copy machine as you wait for the rest of your papers to go through. Checking your phone you see you’re already almost ten minutes late to your afterhours ‘meeting.’

You rush down the dim hall of the now empty building, your presentation materials clutched tightly to your chest and glance again at your phone.

Fifteen minutes. Shit.

As you near the conference room, you try to calm your breathing and slow to a walk. A soft light shines from under the door, and you know he’s in there waiting for you.

Taking a deep breath you knock.

“Come in.”

You walk into the large room, never failing to take in the view of the city that the floor to ceiling windows along one wall highlight.

At the head of the large dark wood conference table, sits Bucky. His suit jacket is hanging haphazardly over the back of his chair, his tie is loose around his neck, and the crisp white sleeves of his button down are rolled up to his elbows.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes. The copy machine…”

Realizing you’ve been apologizing all day, and it has made no difference, you stop yourself and lift your chin, walking over to where he sits and placing down your papers, sorting through them as quickly as possible so you can begin.

“Have you eaten dinner?” he asks.

His question takes you completely by surprise and you meet his piercing blue eyes with a confused expression.

“I uh…I had lunch.”

“That doesn’t answer my question sweetheart.”

At his sugared endearment, your eyes widen, and your breath catches in your throat, but you regain your composure.

“No. I haven’t.”

He just nods and gestures to the papers, clearly waiting for you to get started.

You lean over the table, searching for the paper you need and in your disheveled state don’t realize your entire lower body is practically draped over him.

“I just need to find…”

The words catch in your throat when you feel his fingers softly touch your thigh, slowly inching higher to reveal the tear in your stocking. His fingertips trace the sheared fabric and press against your skin, igniting it with heat.

Every muscle in your body tenses, your heart pounds in your chest and your brain screams at you to push him away but you don’t dare move.

“Look at me,” he demands, pressing his fingertips harder into your skin.

You straighten and turn to face him, his hand sliding up and over the curve of your hip to settle on your waist.

“Mr. Barnes?” you ask, keeping your eyes trained on his.

“James. Call me James.”

The intensity of his stare makes your breath catch and when he doesn’t answer and instead continues letting his hand trace your curves you battle with your emotions.

“The next time you have car trouble,” and his hand slips under your skirt again, “you call me.”

“What? Why would I?”

His fingertips graze the lace top of your stocking before he lifts your skirt higher and drops his eyes between your legs.

“Because I said so,” he murmurs, teasing along your inner thigh.

Your hand falls to the table to steady yourself and you willingly spread your legs open when he gives them a slight push.

“That’s hardly a good reason,” you breathe out.

“Fuck,” he growls, and his eyes fall closed.

You glance down at his lap and see him straining against the expensive fabric of his pants.

He smooths two fingers along the line of your panties, lightly pressing against your swollen and sensitive clit. His eyes open and he looks furious, fisting the thin material in his hand and in one quick movement, tearing it off.

He pulls you down roughly onto his lap, your skirt riding up over your hips to accommodate the wide spread of your legs as you straddle him.

An involuntary moan slips past your parted lips when he grabs your ass and drags you down over his hard cock.

When he opens his mouth to speak you grab his tie between your fingers and use it to pull his mouth to yours. Every sweep of his lips is heaven, and you release his tie to rake your fingers through his hair.

He makes a low, angry noise deep in his throat and you trail your lips along his jaw, kissing your way down the strong column of his neck.

His hand slides from your ass and slips between your legs, his fingers brushing through the wetness just before there’s a knock on the door.

You both go completely still and wait. When a second knock sounds, he quietly curses and gently lifts you off his lap.

You quickly pull your skirt down and smooth your hands over your hips. He watches your every move as he runs a hand through his mussed hair and sits up in the chair, hiding his legs and erection under the table.

“What?” he growls, loud enough for whomever is on the other side to hear.

“Mr. Barnes, we’re scheduled to do maintenance in here tonight.”

He curses again and continues to stare at you.

“I’m just finishing a meeting. Give me five minutes.”

“Of course, Mr. Barnes,” the maintenance manager, says, “take your time.”

His chest rises and falls rapidly as he splays his hands out over the tabletop. Hastily he stands and tries to straighten his tie, his eyes landing on your ripped panties that lie on the floor.

He grabs them and rubs the silky fabric between his fingers.

“Make sure you eat something,” he says and then shrugs on his suit jacket, tucking your panties into the breast pocket.

You’re clutching the table and staring as he grabs his briefcase and starts toward the door.

“It’s late. I’m going to have security walk you to your car,” he states, finally meeting your eyes.

His groan is pained as his gaze travels down your body and then he disappears out the door.

You fall back into a chair and try to calm your breathing. You’d have to be out of here in a minute and you didn’t want to look suspicious. Seeing movement outside the door you begin gathering your things and stand on still shaky legs.

With a deep inhale you straighten your shoulders and walk out the door with a serene smile, greeting the head of security and thanking him for escorting you out.

What the fuck just happened?

The next morning you’re making your way into the office when he walks in. You do nothing more than greet him with a curt nod, giving him a wide berth of space as you make your way to your desk.

You can feel his eyes on you, the lick of heat traveling down your spine. You’re wearing your favorite dress and while it’s appropriate for the workspace it accentuates all the right spots, and you smile to yourself as you bend down to retrieve something from your desk drawer.

Regardless of what transpired last night you are not going to let it affect your work. You felt powerful and confident in this dress and Mr. Barnes can fuck off.

You peek over your shoulder to find him standing halfway in the doorway of his office and staring. You raise your brows and blink.

He clears his throat and mumbles a short “good morning,” then steps into his office and slams the door.

You roll your eyes and promise yourself he’ll be the last thing on your mind as you set out to get as much work done today as possible.

As lunch approaches you grab your bag and reach for your wallet. Your fingers close around a crumpled piece of paper, and you start to smile when you’re reminded of what it is.

You knock on his office door and saunter inside when he says, “come in.” The receipt hits his desk with a smack and without an explanation you turn and walk back out.

You almost make it to the first step in the stairwell when you hear footsteps approach behind you.

“Where the hell do you think you’re running off to?” he calls.

You continue walking and make it down one flight of steps before saying, “to get lunch.”

He meets you on the landing and clutches your elbow, spinning you around and pushing you against the wall.

Your eyes narrow contemptuously.

He whips the receipt out and in front of your face. “Want to explain this sweetheart?”

You let out a wry chuckle. “You know for such a smart guy you really are an ass sometimes. It’s a receipt.”

“I can see that,” he says through clenched teeth. “What I want to know is why you’re making purchases for…lingerie…on my company credit card.”

“Some jerk ripped up my favorite pair of panties last night.”

You shrug your shoulders and try to skirt past him.

His hand meets the wall next to your head, his fingers curling and crumpling the receipt and you can feel how tightly the muscles in his body are flexed when he presses closer.

He looks tormented for the split second before his lips crash down on yours and your treacherous body melts into the kiss.

His cock throbs against your stomach as he tries to hike your dress up over your thighs. Reluctantly he steps back, making enough space so he can slowly slide your dress higher, above your panties and look his fill.

“I like this pair even more than last nights,” he simpers.

His fingers hook into the lace at your hip, and you grab his shirt. “Don’t you dare Barnes.”   

“You can buy as many new pairs as you want.”

He once again easily tears them from your hips.

Your lips part in shock but he swallows your sassy remark with his mouth. The roughness of his kiss is a sharp contrast to the way his fingers softly tease between your legs.

You need more but you’ll be damned if you’re going to beg him for it. As if he can read your inner thoughts, his eyes light up in triumph when he pulls away to meet your gaze.

“As much as I want to hear you beg me for it sweetheart, I already know how badly you want it. You’re soaked for me.”

“You’re such an ass…”

He slides a finger inside you and your combined groans echo in the empty stairwell, the insult dying on your lips.

His stare is intense as he dips his head to your ear, warm lips brushing ever so gently when he whispers, “say please and I’ll give you what you want.”

Instead, you nip at his jaw, stifling the moan of need that threatens to rise in your throat. He continues pumping one finger in and out, sweat beginning to bead on his brow and his teeth gritted.

You hiss out a curse that’s followed by a breathy “please.”

You’re expecting him to be smug but instead he slows his movements and languidly pushes a second finger inside you, clearly relishing the way your eyelids flutter closed and you clench around him.

“That’s it sweetheart. Show me how much you love it when I fuck you with my fingers.”

His words practically send you over the edge but it’s the press of his thumb to your clit that makes your legs start to shake and his name fall from your lips like a prayer.

When his head falls to your neck and he places soft kisses along your skin, traveling up to your ear to whisper, “come for me gorgeous,” you let go and dig your fingernails into his strong shoulders, finishing with a muffled cry.

He draws out your pleasure with the slow push and pull of his fingers before sliding them out and holding them between you, his skin glistening under the harsh fluorescent lights.

His fingers press to his lips, parting them as he licks them clean, clearly savoring every drop of your taste.

“I knew you’d be sweet,” he croons.

“James,” you whimper when your hands fall to his pants.

He grabs your wrist to stop you and pushes your hand away. With soft movements he fixes your dress, smoothing his hands along your curves.

“But…” you start, and he silences you with a kiss.

You’re breathless and your head is fuzzy by the time he pulls away and with a wink he steps back and says, “lunch is over. We have a meeting to attend.”

He turns on his heel and jogs back up the steps with ease. Your narrowed eyes follow him before you let out a frustrated huff and walk on wobbly legs in the same direction.

You had forgotten all about the meeting…the one you were supposed to go over the plans for the night before.

When you walk into the large conference room everyone is already seated and Bucky is of course at the head of the table. His eyes are trained on you as you walk to the front and place your things down near him.

The presentation you’re giving shouldn’t take more than ten minutes, but there’s a lot riding on it and after what just happened, you’re obviously feeling flustered.

You open your document and greet and address the room, doing everything in your power to keep your focus on where it belongs and not on him.

But when you pause your eyes lock with his and your ability to speak is momentarily stolen. His gaze is intense, the heat simmering there almost palpable.

With a clear of your throat you continue, fumbling slightly but thankfully recovering quick enough that no one seems to notice. No one but him.

His perfect lips raise in a lopsided grin, and he runs his tongue along the seam of his lips. It’s clear where his thoughts are, and you must tear your eyes away to unscramble your head. He’s obviously trying to fluster you and quickly your nerves are replaced with anger, and you use it to fuel the rest of your presentation, finishing it with ease.

You sit with a smile and lift your chin, challenging him with your eyes. He stares right back.

“Thank you,” he says, addressing you by your first name as he stands and commands the room. “That was an excellent presentation. Clearly, you were well prepared.”

You can’t tell if his words are mocking or meaningful and it sets you on edge. He moves around the room and answers any lingering questions before ending the meeting with a dismissive hand.

As people stand and gather their things, Bucky comes up behind you, pressing his chest close to your back as he leans in to pretend to grab something from the table.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to make it thought that” he chuckles.

To everyone else it appears he’s making a funny remark, but you can feel your skin heat at his proximity and taunting words.

“Ugh,” you say through gritted teeth. “You would have loved that wouldn’t you?”

You can feel your eyes fill with unshed tears, the emotions of the day finally catching up to you and when his gaze finds yours his expression morphs from haughty to soft in an instant.

It only sends you reeling again, the confusion flooding through you and before he can say more you gather your things and rush out the door. Unexpectedly, he’s hot on your heels all the way to the elevator.

There are several other people on it so when you stop at the next floor and more employees file in, you’re squeezed toward the back, pushed farther into him, your ass against his crotch.

He’s hard and you feel the rest of him stiffen with the sharp intake of his breath. You take a step away from him, as much as you can in the confined space, but he reaches forward and grips your hip to pull you back.

“Don’t move,” he whispers into your neck.

“I’m two seconds away from shoving my heel up your ass,” you seethe.

He leans even closer, keeping a firm grasp on your hip.

“You were deliberately trying to make me fuck that up!”

You turn your head to peer at him and his mouth falls open, brows furrowed.

“What?” he says.

“You heard me.”

When you reach the floor just before the top, everyone else exits the elevator and the doors close, leaving you both pressed together in the corner.

It starts to move again, and you jerk backward, falling against him as he leans into the wall.

His sudden growl startles you and then he slams his hand into the stop button on the control panel.

His body cages you against the wall and his breathing is harsh.

“I would never want you to fuck anything up,” he exhales. “It’s impossible for me to think about anything but you…how good you taste, and I haven’t even gotten my mouth on you.”

You hide your surprise at his confession.

“Yet.” He adds in a promised whisper.

“This is my career at stake Mr. Barnes. You’re the one with all the power here. What do you have to lose?”

“Me? All the power?” He laughs dryly. “You’re the one who does this to me…the only one.”

You feel him throb against your stomach and you can see the truth in his eyes.

“Then don’t be such a dick all the time.”

You mean the words to come out harsh but instead they’re a quiet whisper and your expression softens.

It’s all he needs before his lips crash to yours and he slides his hands down to your ass, squeezing his way to the hem of your dress.

“I had to sit there and watch you present, the whole fucking time knowing you had nothing on under here.”

His touch is delicate as he spreads your legs and slides a finger through your folds, already wet and aching.

“I was sitting there hard as a rock just thinking about bending you over that table, tasting you, fucking you.”

Your fingers close around his biceps, the soft fabric of his suit jacket bulging under the strained muscles.

“Is that what you want?” he asks as his fingers continue to tease you.

“Yes,” you answer as you grab hold of his tie and bring his lips closer.

He kisses you, never touching you where you need it most and when he pulls away, he presses the elevator button, causing it to start moving again.

He removes his fingers and reaches up to straighten his tie and when the doors open, he backs out, his voice low and deep when he says, “I need to see you in my office. Immediately.”

He turns and glides from the elevator, his long strides carrying him quickly toward his office and you can’t do anything but follow.

@blackwidownat2814 @hiddles-rose @kmc1989 @goldylions @lizette50

[erwinsvow]

shy reader sending rafe nudes for the first time🫢

rafe was so nice to you. his new favorite hobby seemed to be spoiling you—it seemed there was an endless influx of shopping trips and things getting delivered to your house after being mentioned once. you don't know how he always got it right, the exact color you wanted or the perfect size. especially when you weren't even sure which style was the best or were having trouble picking between two. rafe would decide for you, usually picking right or just ending up buying both.

he was very good at this whole thing, and though you had trouble accepting his genoursity at first, you felt you were growing into it quite nicely.

the constant denial that you wanted something turned into a sweet, grateful smile when rafe offered to get it. worrying about how expensive something was long-forgotten, instead you gave rafe a kiss on the cheek instead of mentioning it.

and the best part was that he liked it, liked taking care of you, liked making sure you had the things you wanted. he'd even gotten a shiny silver credit card with his name on it, had insisted that you use it for things.

"what kinda man am i, huh? if my girl has to buy herself nice things. that's no way to treat your best girl, huh?"

mostly he just wanted to hear you call yourself his girl, but it was getting easier and easier to swipe it out and about.

you fell into the trap of the saleswoman at the lingerie store—you'd come once before to buy some nighties when you started sleeping over at tannyhill every single night. you'd handed her the silver card, thinking about what rafe had in store for you if you showed up wearing what you'd just bought, when she snapped you out of it

"is that all for today mrs. cameron?"

she'd transported you into a completely different spiral. so you had returned with a craving to hear yourself be called that again, buying anything and everything that caught your eye, but mostly things that you thought rafe would like.

on your way out, still elated from the sheer headrush of being called mrs. cameron, you don't even notice the missed call and texts from rafe, not until you get home and put on the first of many new outfits.

rafey: what the hell is la perla. the fuck did you buy for $500??

dolled up in your new outfit, you angle yourself to snap a couple of pictures with your phone, the first showing your tits spilling out of the pretty, floral bra and panty set. then you laid down, trying to capture your ass and the best arch you could manage without rafe there to push your back for you. trying on another thing you'd bought, this time a pretty white babydoll, you take a selfie showing just enough of the fabric.

sending the photos without any caption, you wait patiently for the response. but seconds turn into minutes, minutes into ten and twenty, while you wonder if you overstepped, if rafe was displeased at your purchases, at the waste of money.

rafe opens the door so hard it slams, and you flinch.

"get on the bed. now." like always, you comply. you guess he wasn't so mad after all.

[reiderwriter]

Puppet On A String

Chapter One of I Can't Help Myself

Synopsis: Expecting your big promotion any day, you're none too happy to hear about the departments miraculous new hire. You're even less happy when he moves into your office and starts touching things.

Warnings: Shitty office politics, brief allusions to Spencer's time in prison, swearing, reader is understandably bitter.

Masterlist || 5k Celebration Challenge

The day your professional aspirations came to a crashing halt was also the day that you met Doctor Spencer Reid. To say that your view of him was somewhat soured by the unpleasant circumstances of your morning meeting was an understatement and a half.

Sitting in your bosses stuffy work office, you felt your heart stop as the situation was explained.

“You understand, right, Y/N? We really value your work here, so we're really relying on you to help him settle in.” He grinned at you from behind his desk, but all friendliness in the gesture was dampened by the fact that he hadn't even bothered to look up from the papers he was looking through, glasses hanging low on his nose.

“I'm trying to understand, I am. But last week, we discussed me moving onto the tenure track. Are you saying that's out of the picture for me now?”

The smile turned into a grimace as he looked up at you, finally. He removed his glasses and folded them in front of him as you squirmed in your seat. You needed to advocate for yourself, but it wasn't easy when it felt like you were in the principals office being reprimanded.

“Doctor Spencer Reid will be joining us on loan from the FBI. Someone at the Bureau called in a favour with one of the college executives. The decision is above my pay grade - thus it is above yours.”

Your cheeks felt hot as he reprimanded you, and you bit your tongue as best you could.

“He will be with us for the semester, and then we can discuss your promotion again next semester. I will ask again, you understand the situation?”

You nodded, understanding the unspoken - the department wide email introducing your new member of staff and the generous donation from the FBI that came with him. You brought nothing to the department other than a stellar academic record and hard work.

“I'm glad we could both come to an understanding,” he said, aptly dismissing you as you stood to take your leave.

“Ah, one last thing, Y/N,” he said, stopping you in your tracks as you readied yourself to run to the nearest bathroom stall and cry until your first class - roughly 7 and a half minutes.

“Doctor Reid will be sharing your temporary office space. We're strapped for space, and there weren't any other facilities available at the last minute. Since your students always remark on how approachable and welcoming you are, you're the best person to show him around, too.”

The gloom in your heart hardened to anger as the man dismissed you, returning his glasses to his head and not bothering to make eye contact as he added more work to your already heavy load.

“Of course. Thank you.”

You closed the door behind you, willing yourself to not slam it, and stalked down the corridor to your own - now communal - office.

Half of your brain was screaming at you to quit, but with rent in a college town to pay, and the academic year already in session, there was no way you were finding something this lucrative again.

You'd worked your ass off for the last five months. You just had to survive three more with Doctor Spencer Reid.

You had to keep your emotions in control until at least your office, you thought, even as the inescapable tears threatened to fall down your face. You hate that you cried when you were angry, that your emotions couldn't even sort themselves out enough to give appropriate physical responses, but at least you could angry-cry in peace before your new coworker showed up.

You ripped open the door and stomped to your desk, slamming the door shut behind you as you fell down with your head in your hands and let out a frustrated groan.

“Um… hello, can I help you?”

The voice caught you so off guard, you almost jumped from your seat in shock, backing up to the single window in the office.

“Fuck, you scared the hell out of me. What- who are you?” You asked the man you now saw sitting at the sofa opposite your desk, next the door. So close in fact, that you didn't see him walking in.

He was sat down, but you could tell he was tall, slightly older than you, but with big brown eyes that betrayed some experience. He sat comfortably at first, legs crossed, book in hand, but as you spoke, he sat straighter, stiffer, his relaxed expression becoming somewhat colder.

“I'm Doctor Spencer Reid. I was told this is my office from today onwards? If I'm incorrect, I can leave you to your…”

Of course, the very attractive, soft-spoken man in front of you just happened to be the derailment of your career. Temporary, you reminded yourself. Temporary derailment.

“No. Doctor Reid, of course. Hello. I'm Y/N. We'll be sharing the office for the semester, I just didn't know you'd be here today.”

He frowned slightly, like sharing the space was as uncomfortable with him as it was with you.

“If you can excuse me, I have a class to teach in…” You looked to the shelves where your small clock had fallen over once again - the office was cramped and the shelves unstable enough that closing the door meant knocking at least three things over.

“Three minutes, shit. I have to leave, please keep to yourself, I have a lot of important documents in here.”

The words were colder than you would've liked, but you couldn't find the strength to care much about his opinion of you.

You grabbed your laptop and left the room swiftly, abandoning Spencer Reid to your shared office.

Your first meeting may have been sour due to circumstance, but your second was unpleasant on the strength of Spencer Reid's grating personality alone.

In your five months at the college, you'd worked up a system for classwork.

Gather books. Go to class. Pick up coffee. Teach. Leave class. Pick up a second coffee. Go to your office. Host office hours. Work on a research paper. Rinse and repeat for any other classes you had that day.

With such a busy and caffeine fuelled schedule, you kept your office as neat as you could with your rickety shelves.

So, returning to meet Spencer Reid a second time, you almost threw up at the sight that befell you in the office.

“Hey, welcome back.”

The man sat on the one inch of your floor that wasn't taken up by furniture with all of the books in the office stacked up around him, the shelves bare and tipping precariously to one side.

“What the hell did you do to my office?” You blanched, looking around, unable to see the set of books you had organized for your next class.

“The shelves are broken, I put in a request to have them replaced, and I've been organizing the books by topic so-”

“The books were already organized. By class, and week they're to be taught. Fuck, I have a seminar in 30 minutes, I need those books.”

To his credit, Spencer Reid looked panicked as he sat sifting through all the books, even as your anger rolled off of you in waves.

“I can fix this. What shelf was it on?”

“Don't bother, just ruin my day some more. Hey, how about next time, you just throw everything in the trash?”

“I was trying to help, we're going to be sharing the office, and there isn't exactly space for two desks with your current filing system.”

“So you decided to rearrange without telling me? Asking me? I've been here five months, but you strolled in five hours ago and decided to change everything to suit you.”

“That's not - look, I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, well, you can start your apology by footing the bill for whatever improvements you've made. We're not tenured professors. Anything we add to the room or request comes out of our paycheck, and I'm not starving myself for floor to ceiling bookshelves.”

Whatever retort he was about to make was lost as you grabbed your bag from the floor and stormed out, leaving him behind in your dilapidated office.

When you returned to your office later that day, he was nowhere to be found. His new furniture, however, was crowding the room. A clone of your own desk was pushed up against the side of it, the pair forming an L shape. Great. Couldn't have gotten any closer if you tried.

Your couch was still in place by the door, but the old bookshelves were gone. They were replaced by a sturdier looking wooden set that now shelved all the books you'd inherited in the office or were using for class. And some new titles.

He hadn't put them back in the order you needed them in, though you doubted he ever would, but instead had them grouped by topic and within groupings in alphabetical order.

“How very precise,” you said, running your fingers along the book spines as you made your way to your desk.

“Whoops,” you said, pulling out a book you knew wasn't yours and letting it fall to the floor.

Was it petty? Sure. Was it therapeutic?Abso-fucking-lutely.

“Nice. Mature,” a voice said behind you, and for the second time in 12 hours, you jumped at the sound of Spencer Reid's voice.

“Jesus Christ, you need to stop doing that.”

“Doing what, walking into my own office?” He said, leaning against the new bookshelves.

“Our office. Shared. For three months.”

“Oh so you do remember we have to coexist?” He asked, grinning down at you. When did he get so close that he had to look down at you?

“Trust me, your presence is…felt,” you said, gesturing around the cramped space.

“What classes are you teaching?” You sighed, pushing past him to the open door and sitting down at the sofa.

“Profiling and the Criminal Psyche and I'm guest lecturing in Criminology 101. I have a few special lectures on geographical profiles in the next month.”

“And office hours?”

“What?”

“Your office hours, you're going to need to post them soon. Mine are Mondays and Thursdays at 11am, you'll need to be out of the office then so I can consult with the students about any absences or grades. If you haven't decided on your hours yet, my schedule is taped in the first draw of my desk.”

You grabbed your jacket from the hook on the door and pulled it over you like a blanket, laying yourself down on the sofa.

“Why would I need your-”

“Do us both a favour and schedule your hours during my contracted teaching time. It'll be easier.”

“Then why don't you schedule yourself during mine?”

You scoffed as you pulled a couch cushion up to rest your head on, closing your eyes as you drowned him out.

“Gee, you're some kind of genius. Can't you figure that one out yourself?”

You heard his sight of frustration but plugged in your headphones anyway, enjoying your 20-minute power nap as you stubbornly refused to face the day's stress.

A week later, you were deep into a College Cold War.

Spencer had attempted what you'd thought was a truce on his second day, arranging the pile of books you needed for that week's seminars on his desk happily.

Until you went to grab the top of the stack, and his hand held yours down on top of it.

“Sorry, that's for my class,” he said, glancing up at you. He smiled as he noticed the irritation in your eyes as you ground your teeth together.

“I'm teaching a class today based on this text. It was an assigned reading-”

“What a coincidence. It's an assigned reading in my class as well. For all 46 students. You better run over to the library, Y/N.”

You dragged your hand out from under his, brushing off the heat that ran up your arm from his hand as disgust rather than attraction.

His existence was irritating, but his face and body were more distracting than anything.

Storming off, you knew you had to one up him somehow, but you wanted to put some thought into it before doing something impulsive. Your first thought had been slashing his tires, so some perspective was definitely needed.

A week passed, and you found yourself having to endure the man's company on a Friday night for a departmental welcome meal. You'd assumed a week ago when it was scheduled into your outlook calendar that it would be to celebrate your promotion, and now the egg was most definitely on your face.

You'd debated not even turning up, but a warning email had let you know that attendance was compulsory, and the dress code was semi-formal.

So, you begrudgingly forced yourself into the little black dress you'd purchased a lifetime ago for your first graduation and got yourself a taxi over to whatever ridiculously expensive restaurant you have to fast at this time.

“Y/N, you’re here. We weren't sure you'd show up, after… you know!” One of the older professors said as you walked in, pressing an air kiss to either cheek as she handed you a champagne flute.

“Well, attendance was compulsory, so here I am!” You wanted to wipe the pompous smile off the woman's face so badly, but unfortunately, she was a member of the hiring committee. Three more months of sucking up to her was in your future, courtesy of a shitty move by the FBI.

“You say that, but our guest of honor isn't even here yet. Typical, right?”

You downed the drink she gave you and excused yourself to take your seat at the dinner table, needing a place to rest your glass to save yourself from cracking it in your furious grip.

It took another hour for Spencer Reid to show his face, and to your glee, he looked genuinely uncomfortable at the prospect of the night ahead.

“Sorry, I was unpacking some stuff at my apartment.”

“Oh, did you move recently?” A curious voice trailed up the table to ask him as he awkwardly side stepped to his seat. Right beside you, obviously.

“No, just… I had some stuff packed up.”

He held his tongue, not revealing more as the table fell in an awkward silence.

You dragged another glass to your lips and sat back in your chair, doing your best to stay unaddressed as the appetizers finally came out.

“Does the department have dinners often?” Spencer whispered, his hot breath fanning against your neck as he leaned closer to you.

The hot feeling washed over you again as you turned towards him, immediately pulling back and putting some distance between the two of you.

“No. Usually, it is only when welcoming guest lecturers or when someone gains tenure.”

“So who got tenure?”

You scoffed. “Funny. Thanks, Spencer.”

“What?”

You looked back at him again, and his brow furrowed in confusion.

“This meal is to introduce you. Everyone else here has tenure.”

“You don't.”

“Yes, well, there wasn't exactly room in the budget for the hotshot FBI profiler and a steady income for another Professor.” You slammed your glass down again and picked up your bag and things, hoping the table hadn't heard your conversation.

“Please excuse me.” You said smiling at the rest of the table. Some of the women sent you sympathetic glances, but the department dinosaurs simply continued their conversations. You'd think a department of psychologists would be able to figure out they were all absolute narcissists.

You carefully exited the group and took yourself outside for some much needed air.

“Y/N.” He shouted from behind you again, and you had to be honest, you were sick of him following and sneaking up on you.

“God, what now, Spencer? Go back inside and get celebrated or whatever. They probably can't start the self-congratulatory circle jerk without you anyway.”

“I came to apologize. Again. But you don't seem to be able to handle the words ‘I'm sorry,’ at all, do you?”

He looked exasperated, but however he was feeling, you felt worse.

“Look, Spencer. I probably have nothing against you personally. But I've just been conned into another three months of probationary minimum wage because your boss at the Bureau decided he wanted rid of you for a month or two. Some of us didn't get child genius scholarships for multiple PhDs and aren't receiving two paychecks right now.”

“If money is an issue, Y/N, you know I could-”

“No. No, stop butting into my personal problems. We can be civil, but we're not… we're not friends, Spencer.”

You stepped back and let out another sigh as you forced the words to stand between you.

“Okay. I'll stay out of your way.”

“Great. Looking forward to it.”

“Sure. Me too.”

[eumivrse]

ON A TIME CRUNCH !

content having sex under a time constraint! stressful, isn’t it?

featuring gojo, geto, nanami, toji, higuruma

warnings semi public sex (nanami and higuruma), deepthroat (geto), gojo is a tease (as always), belt as a restraint + very rough sex (higuruma), fem oral + mention of rose toy lol (toji), slight spanking, a lot of clit stimulation, unprotected sex with all of them whoops!! and the reader does pee after, just not mentioned ;0

note it took me two hours to proofread this and it’s now past 4am LOL i am tired

GOJO

“satoru….” you mewl, nails clawing on his biceps. he has your back against the front door of your shared apartment, his cock stretching your walls ever so slightly. his sweats are hanging just down his mid thighs, too hasty to take a second to shed them right off.

you weren’t going to deny— it’s been a week and a half since you and satoru were able to have some alone, intimate time together. long story short, you were on your way out the door to go to an important job interview for a promotion that you’ve been wanting. your boyfriend kissed you good luck, but that kiss turned into a heated makeout session which ultimately escalated into him being inside of you.

somehow.

he hikes your pencil skirt up, your panties peeled to the side to let his cock slip inside your cunt with ease. the mild burning stretch of your walls due to the lack of foreplay and him fucking into you raw was driving your mind in circles, although you still tried to stand your ground. “please— i have to go now or i’ll be late.” but it really is so hard to resist when he’s hitting all the right spots, his hand wrapped around your neck with his fingers pressing hard enough to have your pussy begging for more as much as you’d like to say otherwise. you shot a quick glance towards the kitchen clock with half lidded eyes, revealing that you have a good 25 minutes to get there on time.

the problem just lies with the fact that it takes 20 minutes to travel there alone.

satoru pants with each thrust, “just another minute or two, babe,” he leans in, closing his eyes and clashing his lips against yours, transferring the tint you applied on your lips to his. with his chest pressed against yours, he keeps you from collapsing, his free hand gripping onto the plump of your ass. he bites your lip, evoking a whine from you as he parts, huffing short breaths against your open mouth. “gotta make sure you’re all relaxed before your interview.”

the air was so hot between the two of you; you were starting to feel dizzy, the coil in your stomach just waiting to be snapped the rougher satoru would thrust into you, his tip getting closer to tap on that g-spot. you stammer, your head slamming back against the wooden door from the overbearing pleasure going on in between your legs, “f-fuck, just hurry up please…”

your frantic pleas were only encouraging satoru to increase his hips in speed, the wet slaps of his cock plunging into you more prominent while he removed his hand from your neck and onto squeezing your clothed breast— wrinkling the fabric that you took the time to iron neatly last night. you could just whine, too dumb on his cock to say anything that wouldn’t pass on as gibberish.

he strikes a harsh slap on your ass, then massages the sting right off using his palm with light squeezes. satoru groans, trying to help by hurrying you to your impending orgasm, sneaking his hand under to flick at your swollen clit. heat rushed up to your cheeks as you dug your nails deeper on his arms, leaving crescent-shaped marks all on his lithe skin. “fuck yeah… that oughta get you cumming now,” he snickers, followed with a grunt when he felt your walls clench around him as the pad of his index finger grazed your clit in irregular patterns. your ass hit the door with a bang! each time he slammed into you, hoping that you don’t get a noise complaint from this.

you were getting annoyed at his little cheeky comments this point, but your body felt like it was floating, his dick far up enough that you could feel the raw texture of it grazing the spot that got your thighs shaking like a leaf, bottom lip jutted out into a pout, “toru— ah— you’re so—“ your palms are curled into fists, arms now wrapping around him to jab punches on his back as your body jolts with every thrust. you sucked in your breath for a moment before you rolled your hips, riding out your high by grinding your clit against his finger, your pussy getting tighter and warmer for him.

you crumple your fingers onto the back of his black compression shirt, pushing him further against you. as much as he’d like to hold out his orgasm and slack his hips to make it more intense, the moral part of him convinced him that you actually have to leave now. plus, it wasn’t helping that your cunt was squeezing on him so deliciously that it was milking him with no resistance, shooting his heavy load deep inside you.

he kept a firm grip on your ass and your boob, wishing he could take your button up off to see your perky nipples, but decided against it for obvious reasons. satoru wanted to say something, implied by the way his mouth parted, but was interrupted with a moan when you felt his warm cum paint your walls, a drop seeping down your inner thigh. “fuck, that’s it, pretty girl. milk my cock f’me just like that,” he mumbles softly as if he was talking to himself.

your senses came back to you when he pulled out, giving you a quick peck on the lips before hooking his fingers on the garter of his sweats to pull it back up. “agh! you’re crazy, my outfit and makeup are all ruined!” you couldn’t see yourself but you could just imagine your mascara is all over your under-eyes now, lipstick smeared on your cheek. your clothes are also disheveled, a huge spot on your button up top is folded with wrinkles, not to mention the mess in between your legs that will take way too long to clean up in the restroom.

satoru sighs jokingly as he pulls your skirt back down to cover you, patting on it to get rid of any crumples. “get yourself a new shirt and bring your makeup bag with you too.” he’s smiling wide, like a bulb just lit up above his head.

“why?” you raise an eyebrow, although you do admit a lot of your prior anxiety has been lifted off your shoulders. your chest feels lighter somehow even though you normally would be panicking right now.

satoru takes your purse from the ground, slipping his hand in to search for your car keys. when he finds it, he swings them in front of you and you roll your eyes, giggling at his foolishness. “you gotta be there soon, no? i’ll drive you while you get ready.” he winks.

“you’re so stupid.”

he sticks his tongue out before opening the front door, “and i love you!”

GETO

you had planned for a few of your mutual friends to come over to you and suguru’s place for dinner. you were in a frenzy, trying to get your boyfriend in the zone with you to make sure every spot in the house is clean and ready. he was compliant, your apartment was a mess due to no time to clean for the past few days. he knew hosting was something you took seriously even if it was just for a casual gathering, so you were satisfied when he kept the same energy alongside you.

you had 15 minutes to spare after everything was ready. suguru intended on spending that time by relaxing; his back was starting to kill him like he’s a senile old man, but to his surprise, you had other plans in mind.

“oh— baby, you don’t have to do this.” he laughs, his face crimson from having your lips wrapped so firm against his cock. you run your tongue just right along the prominent vein protruding through the length, and he was fighting the urge to thrust his hips up for his tip to prod against the back of your throat. you were on your knees as he sat on the foot of the mattress, his palms rested on the sheets.

your intention was to reward him for being such a good boyfriend; he deserves it after doing everything you asked of him and beyond. even if you were being demanding.

you breathe air in through your nose as your mouth inched closer and closer towards the hilt, closing your eyes from the stinging tears threatening to patter down your lash line. you wrap your hand below your mouth and around his cock in a c-shape, slow strokes provoking heavenly curses rolling past his lips. your unoccupied hand was sneaked under the space between your legs, teasing yourself by sticking two fingers up, grinding your clothed crotch against it. your wet saliva dribbled down your chin, the sight of you with your mouth full of his dick only turning suguru on even further.

you're practically gargling around him from the lack of air in your throat, your little whimpers vibrating straight through his cock as you continue to take more of him. suguru has his hand on top of your head, his way of guiding you carefully down to the base of his cock, but his patience was starting to run thin.

he groans, his other hand slapping over his mouth, slightly startled and ashamed at how loud that was. “baby, ngh— aren’t they going to be here soon?” as much as he wants to cum and continue this by being inside you, he was trying to be rational. although it was clear his body was longing for this. you just ignored him while you bob your head carefully. suguru’s impatience had taken over him and he lets his hips snap, thrusting his cock up far enough that it nearly punched the back of your throat.

you gag, your hand that was wrapped around him is now grasping on his thigh, slipping your mouth off his long cock and hacking out a cough from gasping too sharply, a string of saliva connecting your bottom lip and his tip. drool pooled on the wooden floor beneath you as you continue to rub your confined clit, your hand starting getting sore from trying to get yourself off just to be feeling dull from the barriers of your shorts and underwear.

you wrap your palm around his cock coated with your spit and his pre, wet rings forming on your hand. answering his question, your mouth is still adjusting from being so loose, “we have time, love. and you can’t cum until you’re inside me.”

you jerk your hand up and down, hunching down a bit to stick your tongue back out, flicking on the slit of his tip. looking up at him, you couldn’t help but smirk seeing his face and ears flush pink, eyes squinted in pure pleasure. suguru makes eye contact with you for a second, then transfers his gaze to the pathetic way you humped your fingers, your baby pink shorts making it easy for him to see the drenched spot of arousal on the fabric.

he sighs, having enough of this. “then hurry and spread your legs already.” he slouches down, reaching over and pulling you by the elbows, his strength letting him throw you on the bed behind him. turning around, he kneels in front of your body, all splayed for him as he aggressively grabs the garter of your shorts and underwear and yanks them off, tossing it to the pile on the ground where his sweats are.

you were fascinated at his change of tone, still with a smug smirk on your face as suguru crawled on top of you, his toned arms caging you in between. his fat cock rests in between your folds as he slides up and down, the head pressing on your clit that previously lacked well needed attention. you moan at the contact after being deprived for so long and after suguru thought that you were warmed up enough, he aligns himself to sheath inside of you, your cunt nearly engulfing him whole.

he grunts when he’d reach balls deep inside of you, your walls pulsating around him. “we can finish before they arrive, yeah?” with roughly 7 minutes left before time, he pushes the back of your thighs towards your chest, keeping you spread to allow you to feel how fucking well he’s splitting you open.

you could only respond with a whine, head falling back and digging on the pillow beneath you, hands gripping onto the plush and pulling it towards your face to suppress your moans.

he was concerned whether or not you’d be able to cum on time, but judging by your reaction from him barely being inside you and the fact that he’s not too far off from reaching his own high— he stopped worrying and threw his concerns out the window.

starting with easy, slow thrusts, he chuckles when you pressed the folded pillow against your face. “show me your face, baby. finish what you started.”

NANAMI

“shh. can’t have them hearing you now, sweetheart. this is all for me,” kento nibbles on your ear as you have your back flush against his chest, on his lap with your legs being pried apart by his huge arms wrapped around you while he sits on the toilet. one of his hands are holding onto the back of your knee and the other is splitting your folds with his fingers in a v-shape as he nestles his fat cock past your hole and into your cunt.

this was quite uncomfortable, the space was small around you, with flimsy walls that enclosed the bathroom stall. you were afraid the toilet wasn’t going to be able to hold both of your weights, but nanami managed to shift his hips just enough to let his cock slip in and out of you with no problem. your ass was raised up for more allowance, skirt lifted to your tummy. if someone opens the stall right now, your frontal will be the first thing they see.

taking your 15s with kento has often been like this ever since you started dating on the down low to avoid gossip from your co-workers. it’s also difficult to spend time together outside of work discreetly, especially lately now that it’s been so busy. and what better way to spend 15 minutes of break instead of hearing your other coworkers talk shit about each other?

you mewl, voice weakened, “kento, how much time do we have before break is over?” your head falls backwards towards his shoulder and he leans his head a little to clash his lips against yours, closing your eyes to relish in the way he’s making you see stars already, letting his tongue enter your mouth to meet with yours. he swallows your moans; the kiss was so sloppy, a drop of saliva dripped down your chin and took shape on your collarbone.

it was hard not to squirm around him when he’s stretching you out so good, his nimble fingers collecting the slick that his cock would draw out of you the more he thrusts his hips. he parts abruptly, sticking his tongue out with a twine of saliva making a connection between the two of you. kento huffs and unravels one of his arms around you to check his wristwatch, one leg falling flat on his thigh. he mumbles, “4 minutes.”

“4 minutes?!” you repeat, voice bouncing off the walls. worry had started to take over your body and you wriggle your other leg to release yourself out of his constraint, which he was willing to let go— until the door to the bathroom hinges open. he was still inside of you and you swiftly allow him to conceal your legs from the open space beneath the stall by taking hold of the back of your knees in a butterfly spread, legs in the air. you cover your mouth with both your hands, pupils blown as you hear footsteps coming closer and closer to where you two are.

it just happened to be the day you decided to risk it and do it in the nearest male’s bathroom to your office as opposed to going all the way to kento’s car. you should’ve been surprised it took this long for someone to come in unwarranted.

the man was humming a song as he chose the stall next to you, and he sounded like one of your junior co-workers: ino takuma. you turn your head a bit to look at kento for some sort of reassurance and he mouths to you word for word, “let’s wait.” you nod sheepishly, mind now filled with uncertainty, yet still clouded with the thought of his dick buried inside you while someone else is just a few feet away.

you were all ears as ino unbuckled his belt, hearing a liquid stream shoot down the toilet. he notices that someone else is at the stall next to him, interrupting the song he was humming and asking with a hint of enthusiasm, “you okay over there?”

kento shimmies his hips, the feeling of his cock shifting in you almost making you gasp, which thankfully you were able to suppress with your palms. he clears his throat, “uh- yeah. i’m doing just fine.” you were being folded in half, knees pushed enough that it’s nearly against your chest, tits spilling out of your bra. kento looked up and realized that your clothes were still hanging over the wall partitioning the stalls between yours and ino’s as his own clothes were occupying the hooks behind the door. scooping your legs up with one arm, he reached his free one over to grab the garments which consisted of your sweater and your panties.

thankfully, ino didn’t seem to have noticed that, but for some reason he was taking his damn time in his stall. or maybe that’s just how it felt like to you.

ino chuckles, recognizing your boyfriend’s voice. “mr. nanami? you seem distressed, did the lunch ruin your stomach too?” your ears catch the sound of toilet paper whirring out of the dispenser, breath caught in the back of your throat as if he would be able to figure out that his two senior co-workers are screwing in the stall next to him just by your breath.

kento laughs nervously, quietly placing your clothes on the toilet dispenser next to you to free up his hand, then moving it so his fingers would be right over your clit, rubbing slow circles on it. you writhe on top of him, and he tightens his grip around you with his other arm to keep you from squirming. “y-yeah,” he stammers, “just a tad constipated,” he purses his lips, shaking his head in shame that he just admitted something so embarrassing even though it was a lie. ino leaves the stall with a click! and you can hear him washing his hands. “well, i hope you feel better soon, sir. i’ll let them know you’re not feeling well so take your time in there, okay?”

he must think this is some sick joke or something because kento started rocking his hips again, his cock plunging along your walls, the head pressing on your g-spot. kento grunts when you clench around him, tipping him over the edge, “… thanks ino.”

when you were sure that ino was gone after waiting a few seconds, you remove your hands from your mouth which now dripped with drool, letting yourself huff out loud. one hand was cupped on top of kento’s hand that worked on your clit while the other swung behind the back of his head to push his face close as you twist your head to give him a quick kiss. “m’ so close,” you mumble, lips paralyzed. “i want you to cum inside me…”

“okay baby, i got you.” kento couldn’t give a flying fuck how loud you were being now, screeching moans of his name and the wet sloppy way his cock would fuck into you— he swears he didn’t even realize you released just right before he did, cum dripping down his cock as it popped out, letting your sore legs loose. you shudder from the hollow feeling of him pulling out, sighing as you catch your breath.

you let your feet touch the ground, hands now placed on his knees for leverage as you stand back up. you turn around to see his body sheened with sweat, the buttons on his long sleeve top half undone. “are we going to make it on time?” you ask, although you had a sick feeling you’re already late. it wouldn’t have mattered so much if you didn’t have a meeting.

“about 30 seconds,” he pants as he starts to place his buttons back in its respective holes.

“ughhhh shit!” you curse, frantically pulling your skirt back down, trying to make the wrinkles look neat, then grabbing your panties to slip them back on. you catch kento staring at you and he laughs at himself, giving him a perplexed look in return for not being as antsy as you.

he mutters, “so cute.”

TOJI

you’ve been saying no to having sex with toji ever since he pissed you off about eating a slice of cake you’ve been saving and fantasizing about all day. you specifically told him to leave that alone in the fridge before going to work, but lo and behold— you came home with it gone from its spot. he offered to buy another one, but that cake is a seasonal item from your local bakery, and you happened to get your hands on it on the last day it’s available, having to wait in line for 45 minutes.

toji thought you were being petty, but asked for your forgiveness anyways. you forgave, but you basically grounded him from touching you all week even though he tried to lure you in multiple times. it started from buying you a whole cake from the same bakery— although it was a different flavor. you appreciated the gesture and thanked him for it, but you stood your ground.

the second day he tried seducing you by taking his shirt off right after he came home from the gym. your eyes couldn’t contain itself from staring at the muscles on his back as he smirked to himself walking into your shared bedroom. it was a nice try, knowing that could get you riled up, but again, you planned to keep your word.

until the 3rd day hit and toji was fed up with it.

you were in bed facing him, eyes closed, getting ready to sleep when he suddenly says, “1 minute.”

eyes now half open, eyebrows scrunching in curiosity, you ask, “what are you talking about?”

he sighs with desperation in his tone, “if i can make you cum in one minute, you’ll stop this. please?” it’s rare that toji pleads to you like this, but it is a pretty big deal that you banned him from touching you considering how you’re both quite handsy with each other.

scoffing, you laugh at him, then puckering your lips in mockery, “1 minute? okay big boy, whatever you say.” but his bet doesn’t sound so bad when you’ve been just as needy the past 3 days, discreetly using your rose toy in the restroom pretending that it’s his lips sucking on your clit instead. you didn’t realize it’d be affecting you this much too.

after a moment of silence, you approve of his deal, “fine, but if you can’t make me cum in a minute, i’ll extend the ban for a month,” toji knew the risks he was taking— no sex for a month? but nonetheless, he was ready to place all his cards on the table.

thus, how you ended up with your legs shaking around his head, his tongue latched onto your clit.

he has two fingers slipped inside your cunt, and it was evident from your loud whimpers that you’ve been pent up just as much as he has been. he sighs, as if he just chugged a fresh, cold drink. “come on, baby. were you trying to punish me or yourself?” you were already soaking wet by the time he discarded your panties, coming to a realization that this challenge was nothing more than a piece of cake.

the timer on your phone was ticking with 45 seconds left in his favor. his thick fingers are vehemently being shoved in and out of you, it was starting to get embarassing how loud the squelching is with each push of his digits. he jostled the wet muscle of his tongue on your clit in a jerking motion, and you arch your back, covering your face with your palms as if that would help. his saliva trickled down your folds, then caught it with his tongue.

you refused to look at him, keeping your eyes glued shut or else you’ll cum sooner than you anticipated. his arms are wrapped around the outside of your thighs which rested on his shoulders to keep your pussy in full access for him. his hands massaged the pudge of your groin, adding onto the sheer stimulation you’re experiencing right now.

toji mocks, seeing that the clock tells him he still has half a minute left and you’re already on the brink of cumming all over his fingers. “would rather cum on my fingers or on my dick?”

you gasp, hands now grasped onto the crème sheets beneath to you. “ah— hah— you’re dick, fuck—“

your face felt so hot, the tips of his fingers dipping into that squishy spot inside that got you squirting, fluid spurting out and soaking his fingers while he placed his lips on your clit, swirling his tongue around the swollen bud. he laughs, “fuck yeah… fucking love it when you squirt for me like that…” you lift your head take a peek at him, tucking your chin in to see him tease you by sticking his tongue out, upper lip dripping with your slick.

you tremble, slightly out of breath as your chest rose and fell, “shit, toji. okay, you got me.” maybe it wouldn’t have been so easy for him if you weren’t already horny, but you had to hand it to him for playing your game well. your rose toy couldn’t even compare.

he traces your pussy once more with the fingers that were just inside of you, smirking arrogantly as he sits up, leaving your legs to land back on the mattress. his face is on top of yours, and you cup his cheeks to bring his lips towards yours for a longing kiss, tasting a hint of your arousal. you nibble on his bottom lip as he pulls away, aroused by the way his lip bounced back up.

just in time, the timer went off and you searched for your phone with your hand to turn it off without averting your gaze from him. he asks with a mumble, “the ban is off?”

you chuckle, voice hoarse and throat dry, “fine, the ban is off.” with your arms laced around him, he uses one hand to pop his cock out his boxers, not bothering to pull it all the way down. he grins as he slaps it in between your folds, watching you shiver under his touch. he leans in for a peck on the lips, followed with a harsh strike to your tit with his palm before groping on it to massage the sting away.

he breathes against your trembling lips, “still wanna cum on my cock?”

HIGURUMA

“higuruma, sir—“ you giggle, bent over the wide oak desk that occupied the back of his office. your hands were bounded behind you with his leather belt as higuruma pounds into you from behind, your body jolting forward with each thrust. he was still clad with his suit on, with the exception that his pants and boxers are down around his ankles, thinking that it’s too much of a hassle to take it all off as he’s still on the clock.

he slouches down, licking a stripe up the shell of your ear before muttering, “it’s hiromi, darling.” he reminds you, having hated the idea of being called by his last name while having sex. you flinch, sensitivity heightened from being deprived of using your hands. the desk produced harsh creaking noises with each mean thrust of higuruma’s hips, releasing all his pent up anger on your tight cunt. as soon as he entered the office, he had you bent over with your ass pointed up towards the ceiling, tugging your pants down and moving your panties over one ass cheek.

the cases he had to deal with all week have been stressful in the worst ways possible— uncooperative clients, complex situations, just everything felt like it was against him. the only thing that bode well for him having to endure this hellish week was you— his legal assistant. you’re organized, quick to your feet, and efficient. everything he wants in an assistant.

oh and the pussy is amazing too, but no one else is supposed to know that.

you were resting on one cheek, faced towards the shelves full of loose papers and books, saliva trickling down on the surface of his desk. your walls were being bullied by his cock, drilling into you with no mercy. you were already seeing stark— this all would've been fine and dandy if you two didn’t have to be at court in less than half an hour. “hiromi… we have to leave soon.” you cry, voice constricted from having your chest pressed against the desk.

he continues to slap his pelvis against your ass, hips consistent with rhythm like it’s a metronome. “do we? fuck—“ he grunts, slamming his eyes shut as he relishes the way your snug cunt would pulse around him. he reaches one of his hands up, then smacks your ass, making you yelp in pain while his free one is keeping your body from thrashing by squeezing your other ass cheek. you whine, still thinking about work for some odd reason, “yes— and you know how uptight that client is.” it felt ridiculous how tears are rimmed on your lash line from the prickling sensation on your ass while you’re speaking about professional matters.

higuruma slacks his hips for a moment, pushing his weight against you so hard that you almost choke trying to gasp, cock sunken in you to the hilt while case files and the pens on his desk shifted in position. he ponders while grazing his hand over the curve of your ass, “he’s the one that snapped at you for being a minute late?”

you turn your head the best you can, giving him a timid nod. this particular client has been hard to work with, higuruma was trying his best to be empathetic but sometimes he wishes he didn’t have this passion for bringing justice. the man is even infamous at your firm now for being extremely rude, and higuruma was the only one willing to take his case on.

he sighs, clicking the roof of his mouth with his tongue, waiting for a moment to think about his choices: whether to cut this off with you now to please the client’s wishes of you two being there 10 minutes early, or continue this and arrive just a few minutes past the agreed time.

it didn’t take long for him to decide— tugging on the loose strap of the belt around your wrists to pull you against his chest, cock angled so fucking deliciously that you feel like his tip is poking on your abdominal lining. he whispers, breath hitting the crook of your neck, “that bastard will just have to deal with it then,” he lets some of the strap loose so that your spine would be in a bowed arch, arms stretched back from higuruma pulling on it. you breathe through your mouth with your teeth clenched shut from the ache coming from your wrist. there’s no way that’s not going to leave a mark considering how the leather is starting to dig into your skin since it’s the only thing supporting your upper body.

that thought was soon discarded though when he used that to his advantage, wrapping the belt around one of his wrists to keep you arched as he thrusts into you, your breasts jiggling even under the confines of your clothes. the sounds eliciting from your lips were starting to gradually increase in volume, even as you tried to keep it down for the sake of your fellow coworkers. your cheeks were hot, cunt throbbing every time you hear your boss grunt and mutter curses under his breath.

with both your eyes shut, you open one eye to shoot a quick glance at the clock on his desk. the client wants you there in 20 minutes but the court hearing doesn’t actually start until 30 minutes. the only obstacle you have to face is the traffic on the way to the court building.

if fate couldn’t have been more against the two of you right now, higuruma’s office phone started ringing. you turn your head as a gesture for him to notice in case he wasn’t paying attention, but he was already looking at it with a death stare on his face, as if that phone committed a heinous crime or something. his hips never faltered, you were being split open with such vigor that your legs were shivering.

the ringing eventually stopped, but then followed with another one, with the same annoying string of sound. he had enough at this point, but he kept plunging into you even harder, your body jerking forward, his cockhead pistoning into your g-spot. obviously pissed off, his voice was gruff as he groaned with the animalistic desire to fuck you full of cock. the irritating noise of the landline was blaring, but maybe it would’ve been for the best considering how vocal you’re being.

“fuck, hiromi—! i’m gonna cum,” your wanton moans were being swallowed by the phone’s continuous ringing, your arms going limp. his belt clinked with each deep thrust, and he couldn’t even bother trying to be quiet anymore either. “yes, baby— cum all over me, mhm—“ he purses his lips, moaning as his tone raised in pitch, his hips stiffening for a millisecond when he felt you release around him and he pulls out, one hand still gripped on the leather strap while he uses his other to jerk himself off to his orgasm, streams of his warm cum spurting out on your inner thighs.

you felt so frail, higuruma unbuckling the belt holding your wrists together almost immediately after his high. you spun around, and he wipes cum off his hand with the handkerchief placed inside his suit pocket. he sees that your wrists are wrung with indents of the leather. “i’m so sorry, sweetheart. we should’ve used something less harsh.” placing the handkerchief on his desk when he was done with it, he holds both of your wrists and massages them, his thumb caressing on your skin.

“now you owe me dinner later.” you stick your tongue out and he scoffs.

the corners of his lips upturn into a smile, “sure.” he glances at the clock and he throws his head back, sighing in exhaustion.

“that prick is gonna yell at us for being late.” he chuckles, referring to the client. when he lets your hands go, you take a tissue from his desk behind you, cleaning yourself off. then you pull your slacks back up, tucking your shirt under while you dust off any wrinkles and debris from the carpet.

you laugh, poking fun at what he said earlier, “let that bastard deal with it then.”

[blueicequeen19]

Something Borrowed

Warnings: non-con, forced marriage, creampie, cheating, unhinged Rafe

I lean back in the chair, my eyes locked on the swells of her ass as she screams at her father while he signs the contract. She probably thinks her life is ending with the swipe of a pen but I'll prove to her that it is just beginning.

The moment I saw her was enough for me. The fact that she was born with a backbone and an educated smart mouth were just added bonuses. I didn't want to treat her like a piece of ass but that's all I could think about currently.

I adjusted myself as my cock hardened painfully in my slacks. I was half tempted to check if she was wearing any underwear under her skin tight pencil skirt when the pen dropped on the desk and all the air seemed to evaporate from the room.

"Done." Her father said, his eyes staying on the desk.

"This is not done." She shouted, snatching up the contract as I stood. She'd meant to rip it in half but I grabbed her wrists before she could, pinning her against the desk with my body. Fire and disobedience radiated off her as she glared up at me like I didn't have six inches on her even in her heels.

"Rip it up if it makes you feel better." I leaned in close, making her arch her neck as her nostrils flared. "But nothing is stopping me from making you my wife." An adorable growl met my ears and I couldn't help but smile smugly.

"I'll never marry you." She spat, rolling her lip in disgust. I shifted so my erection was pressing firmly against her stomach. I watched the realization dawn on her and how her eyes tracked down my body before she released the contract to shove at my chest.

"Ugh!"

"Pack your shit or I'll do it for you." She opened her mouth to argue but I held up a finger, silencing her. "And if I have to do it for you, I'm taking the bare minimum and you'll ride in the trunk." I glance back at her father but his eyes are still downcast, his shoulders hung in defeat. I couldn't leave without her knowing that he'd sold her off. I didn't want to be the only one she hated.

"You should know that you did your father a great service." Her brows raise just as her fathers head does, his eyes wide with fear. "Thank your lovely daughter for paying back your debt. Why sell a couple vacation homes when you could just offer up your daughter?"

"You said--!"

"Are you--!"

I lead her from the room just as the shouting starts. I motion for someone to get her stuff as the office door slammed shut. I let her call me every name in the book while attempting to hit me as I navigated us to the car waiting out front.

"I don't want this!" She cried, shoving me again in the chest.

"Too bad."

"Are you so desperate for a wife that you'd blackmail someone into getting one? Is your dick that small?" I barked out a laugh as I pushed her back against the car. I seized her wrist in my hand and made her feel how hard I was. She resisted, her eyes widening in alarm.

"Would you like to drop to your knees right now and find out how small I am?" Her nostrils flared as her hand tightened on my shaft. I flexed the muscle and she jerked away, an adorable blush heating her cheeks.

"Do you think I've had any complaints about my size?" I ask, licking my lips as she avoids looking between us. I cup her chin, forcing her to look at me.

"I bought you because I wanted you. I could've had anyone on the island but I chose you."

"I don't care."

"Maybe you should. Your family would be bankrupt if not for me. I could’ve liquidated everything, leaving you and your mother in the gutter with your loser father but I didn’t.” Her eyes widen as she sniffles.

“Maybe you should be the one thanking me. With your lips around my cock.” I lick my lips, loving the way her eyes track the movement before she blinks, ruining the moment with a shake of her head.

“If you think I’d ever let you—.”

“Let me? Baby, I own you now.” I fist her hair and slam my mouth down on hers. A startled noise leaves her, allowing me to slip my tongue inside. I kiss her like I’ll die if I don’t. All but fucking her with my tongue. She tries to keep up, humming against my lips when a slap suddenly meets my cheek. I laugh, breaking the kiss to see her panting and fuming, her lips wet and swollen from our kiss.

“Trunk it is.”

The weeks before the wedding are nothing short of amusing. Her temper tantrums seem to be the most exciting part of my day even if they cost me thousands of dollars. I’ve decided to surprise her with her wedding dress since she’s destroyed the last two I’ve given to her. Not to mention flushing an engagement ring that cost enough to buy a house.

Now the wedding day has come and it’s taken more threats to ensure she gets down the aisle than not. Especially since she revealed she had a Pogue boyfriend that she would not give up. I warned her what would happen if I ever saw them together.

The very thought has me seeing red and I’m taking off down the hallway to her en-suite before I’ve had time to reconsider. The door is locked but I quickly slip in a master key. I can tell immediately that something is up. The room is empty and quiet. I move past the bed and to the bathroom as my heart starts to race.

She’s fled. I’m sure of it.

A whimpered moan from the other side of the door has my body flooding with rage and I’ve thrown the door open without a second thought. They both jump away from one another but it’s the white lingerie that she’s wearing that makes me snap. That was supposed to be for my eyes only. And now he’s had his filthy hands on her.

“Oh no.” The words barely leave her lips before I’ve grabbed Maybank but his shitty cutoff and landed a fist to his gut. I hit him again and again. Unable to squash the memory of his mouth on hers even as she hits me. I finally stand, blood on my sleeve as I guide him by his hair back towards the bedroom.

“Damnit, Rafe, stop!”

I shrug her off as I yank the handcuffs from my pocket that I was planning to save for our honeymoon. Her eyes widen as I secure one of Maybank’s wrists to the foot of the bed.

“What are you doing!?” She cries as I start to strip out of my tux and down to my boxers. I don’t even care anymore as I secure my tie as a gag around Maybank’s mouth. He’s bleeding and dazed but he’ll quickly come around. I don’t want him to miss a thing.

“Wake up.” I smack him across the face and he groans, blinking at up at us.

“Rafe, stop! What are you doing?”

“Giving you your something borrowed.” I snarl, fisting her hair and shoving her to the carpet on her knees. My cock grows painfully hard in record time as she struggles, her doe eyes pleading up at me. Her hair and makeup are ruined and I’m past the point of caring if her cheeks are streaked with makeup in our wedding pictures. This is her fault.

“Open up.” I free my cock, letting it spring free in her face as she fights my hold.

“I’ll bite it off.” She spats.

“Do it and they’ll never find his body.” I warn, drawing her closer by the hold I have on her hair and pressing the tip to her lips. JJ grunts angrily behind his gag, yanking on the cuffs.

“I’m going to ruin your life for this.”

“Looking forward to it Mrs Cameron. Now suck.” I force my way into her hot mouth, groaning immediately as she takes me deep. Her throat contracts as she gags but she doesn’t stop or resist as I begin to fuck her face. It’s better than anything I’ve ever felt and for some reason Maybank’s anger only makes me enjoy it more.

“She’s pretty good at this.” I say allowed, not taking my eyes off her as Maybank yanks harder on the cuffs. I’m on the verge of cumming too soon already as my attention lock on the swells of her tits, bouncing with every rough thrust down her throat.

Just as I’m about to unload.. I pull free to immediately wrap my hand around her throat. She’s an absolute mess but she’s mine.

“What—.” I force two fingers down her throat to cut her off.

“If you want to act like a slut then I’ll treat you like one.” Her eyes narrow even as she gags, saliva dripping from the corners of her mouth.

“If you want to spread your legs for someone then by all means, spread them.” I pull my fingers free and shove her onto her stomach on the carpet. The crotchless thong she’s wearing gives me a perfect view of her pretty pussy and the arousal that’s coating her thighs. I’m immediately even more pissed off that the fucking Pogue was so close to what’s mine.

“Goddamn.” I pull her hips back and line myself up with her entrance.

“Rafe.. wait..” I slam forward to the hilt, earning a cry of outrage from her and the Pogue.

“Face down.” I shove her head to the carpet as I pull half way out only to shove back in again. She’s so wet that I glide in and out with ease but she’s still so fucking tight. Feeling the way she opens up only to choke the life from my cock might be my new favorite thing.

“Fuck, baby.” I grunt, not slowing my pace as her moans fill the air. My balls are drawn up tight and I don’t stop myself from releasing inside her wet cunt, not caring if she gets hers or not. She glances at me over her shoulder with a look of pure sexual frustration. I’d think she was on the verge of begging until Maybank yanks against his restraints, attempting to kick me.

“One more thing.” I sink two fingers back into her pussy, showing my cum in deep as she sighs in relief before yanking back out and smearing my cum across Maybank’s face. I step on his knee as I stand, making him thrash in pain and anger.

“You wanted my sloppy seconds so bad so there you go, fucker.” I yank back on his hair, making him look at me. “Come near my wife again and I’ll feed you to a gator.” I snarl, rearing back and decking him one last time for good measure. I turn just as my pretty little wife makes a beeline for the door despite being in lingerie.

“Nope.” I snag her around the waist and toss her on the bed before turning towards the garment bag on the back of the door.

“You’re insane!” She shouts, looking even more delicious when she looks freshly fucked.

“No, insane would be making you walk down that aisle in your crotchless panties with my cum running down your legs. I’m at least letting you put the dress on.” I toss it at her but she doesn’t move, glaring at me under her matted lashes.

“I’m not going out there like this. I’m a mess.”

“You had your chance to do this the easy, clean way.”

“My father will kill you.”

“And what will he do to you if he finds out you’re fooling around with a Pogue on the side?” Her eyes widen for a moment because narrowing back into her perfect scowl.

“You embarrassed me so I’m embarrassing you. Now get dressed. I want to be able to look back on our wedding pictures and see how beautiful you look after being fucked for the first time by your husband.”

[chrissturniolosbiggestslut]

— BRATTY BITCH

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

in which:

chris fucks your attitude out of you in the bathroom, nick and matt in the room just next door.

warnings: dom!chris, sub!reader, p in v, unprotected sex ( boooo wrap it before you tap it), pure filthhh, degrading, praising, oral (m receiving), creampie, slight breeding kink

**NOT PROOFREAD**

└───❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚┘

it wasn't often that you and chris had arguments. however it was often that you and chris would have a huge fucking attitude on the same day. seeing that you and chris both were on the sassy, petty side of things, disagreements tended to spike when one or both of you were having a bad day.

though something about today was different, the way you and chris continued to shoot bitter and snarky remarks back and forth ticked you off just as much as it did him. but this time it set another something off inside of you; lust, desire.

as odd as it felt, the venom in chris's harsh words and the deep set appearance of his eyes and brows while he stared at you in annoyance caused a familiar warmth to grow between your legs. 

there was nothing you could do about it now, though, as you and chris were streaming on twitch, accompanied by nick and matt. you knew exactly what you were doing, constantly flashing him the "fuck me" eyes was your favorite thing to do right now. but as much as you appeared to want him, you only continued to shoot disses at him.

"im sorry this stream isn't giving as hard as it should be," nick begins, "y/n and chris have been bitching and complaining all day and like hate each other today so the vibes are a little off!" he states sassily, dramatically side-eyeing you and then chris before returning the attention to the game him and matt were in the middle of. 

thinking about what nick said, you smirk and turn your body so your back is rested against the couch's armrest. you pull your legs up toward your chest so that you just barely clothed pussy is on display for chris at the other end of the couch, it only covered by the thin sleep shorts you're wearing and nothing more.

chris looks in your eyes, down between your legs, then back up into your eyes. you couldn't help but notice the shift of his hips and the darkening of his eyes once he met your eyes again. you smirked once more, biting your lip and looking away. 

chris has finally had enough, glancing at nick and matt to ensure that the stream won't be able to see his massive boner when he walks by before making his way, grabbing you harshly by the wrist and dragging you into the bathroom just outside his room.

he slams and locks the door behind you both, immediately locking his dark eyes to yours. "you think you're fucking funny, hm?" he questions, his expression dripping in annoyance, anger, but most prominently, lust. 

you shrug, "i think i am, yeah." 

"who the fuck do you think you are, running your mouth all day with that big ass attitude?" he questions eyeing your body up and down. you watch as the print in his sweats grows, and you almost laugh.

you smile in amusement, "you act like you weren't doing the same fucking thing! ignoring me every time i tried to be nice and actually help you with something, really?" you sigh, "i mean it's seriously just unbelievably how-"

your rant is cut short when you're slammed against the bathroom door with a thud and suddenly, chris's lips are on yours. as much as you hate to admit it, you immediately gave into the kiss, answering it with so much desire and neediness in you.

feeling chris's hands squeeze on your ass, you gasp, apparently giving chris an invitation to shove his tongue down your throat, deepening the makeout even further. 

you clasp your hands behind his neck, kissing him harsh as you feel his hands leave your ass and instead slip your tiny shorts off of your body. his hands glide down your ass to your dripping pussy, gliding a finger through your slit, eliciting a soft whimper from your lips. 

you feel him pull his lips from yours as he stands up straight. "c'mon baby, put that stupid little mouth to use, yeah?" he states, fiddling with the waist of his sweats before pulling them down and kicking them off at the ankles, soon removing his shirt as well.

you oblige, sinking to your knees desperately, feeling a twist in your lower stomach as more time goes by without him inside of you. 

he lets you do the honors of ripping his boxers down, letting his huge, hard dick spring out from under them. he kicks those off too, leaving him completely naked. you stroke him a few times before kitten licking his tip, causing his head to be thrown back as he leans against the counter. 

"we don't have all fucking night, bitch, let's go," he spits as he pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail. 

you look up at him through your lashes, stuffing his cock down your throat. "oh shit," he whimpers softly, pushing your head down harshly, forcing you to take all 9 inches of him in your mouth.

you gag, spit dripping down your chin and into your shirt, onto your tits, however you didn't care one bit. instead, you took your hands off from chris's thighs and pulled the top of your tank down, causing your plump tits to pop from your shirt as you continued to suck chris off.

"yeah you do it so fucking well baby, jesus," he shoves you down profusely, your gags and tears constant as you look up at him, pleading for a break. he, of course, ignores you.

you moan against him, sending vibrations down his cock, eliciting yet another moan from him. "oh goddamnit baby. oh shit im finna fucking cum."

his motions sped up and got more intense, the hand in your hair pushing you down so hard that it was starting to hurt your nose, but at the same time, you loved it.

chris moans one last time, throwing his head back as his hot, white cum shoots down your throat, you immediately swallowing it all. chris looks down at you, satisfied. you stare  back up at him, sticking your tongue out just to show him how you drank up all of his cum.

he smirks, "such a fucking cumslut for me, hm? yeah, bend over for me, baby. you're gonna fucking feel this shit."

you do just as he says, bending yourself over the counter. you soon feel a cold hand press against your back, arching your fat ass up even more. 

"so fucking beautiful," you hear chris mutter, as he slaps his dick against your pussy before lining himself up. "such a shame your such a goddamn brat," he states, violently shoving his huge cock up your dripping wet pussy. 

your eyes roll back, loving his huge size. almost instantly, you begin to moan unstoppably. you were drunk on his dick so fast it was almost insane.

"shit," he groans, slapping your ass harshly, "you fucking love my cock, don't you, bitch?" he grits, pounding into you harder.

you moan loudly, "oh fuck! yes, god daddy i love it so much." you feel his tip brush against your cervix, his hard thrusts doing things to you.

"how do you feel, hm? you're such a fucking little slut, moaning my name so loud when my brothers; your bestfriends are right in my room next door. you must want them to hear me fucking you, huh? you want them to see what a slutty bitch you are for me," he spanks you once again.

you did, in fact, love it, to say the least. the feeling of him filling you up was probably one of the best feelings you've had. and the way he slapped your ass was something you could dream of. the sting that went through you hurt so good. all you wanted was more.

chris's thrusts got harsher, your insides surely bruised at this point. "god, you take me so fucking good, baby. you love being split open on me, yeah? you're so cockdrunk, its pathetic," he spits, placing a hand on your stomach just to feel the bulge of him inside you. "feel that, love? feel how deep in your stomach i am?"

you moan the loudest you have all night, his intense dirty talking getting you so good. "oh god, daddy i love your cock so much; fuck it feels amazing."

he smirks behind you, "yeah, i know it does- shit!" he moans, "im close, baby."

you whimper as chris slaps your ass once more, leaving a bright red handprint, "me too, oh my!"

his hands move from your hair and back to your hips, giving him a better grip to pound you as hard as he has all night, lifting screams from the back of your throat.

"you gon' let me cum inside you, slut? let me feel you up with my fucking kids, yeah?"

you moan, "yes, chris! oh shit im cumming! fuck!" you shout, letting yourself go all over him as he did the same inside you. he thrusts a few more times, fucking his cum into you.

he pulls out, leaning against the counter next to you, the two of you panting heavily. 

while you're still left collecting yourself, chris is already almost finished getting dressed. he opens the door, leaving you there; all fucked out with his cum dripping down your legs. he looks you up and down with a smirk, meeting your eyes again before saying, "maybe think about it next time before you act like a little brat all day."  with that, you hear him greet his brothers once more as you still sit there in disbelief. how could he get you so good, then just… leave?. but damn, that shit felt good.

[mochiepie]

When you wear a mini skirt

JJK men reaction

Satoru Gojo

🍬 you were wearing a mini skirt with no panties underneath, in your home.. well it's only you and your husband in home so, why bother staying all dressed in this summer. Right? GRAVE MISTAKE

🍬 As soon as you walked out of your shared bedroom, walking towards the kitchen, your dear husband choked on his pastry. "Princess... (Coughs) uhum, we're going out somewhere? " His eyes staring at your thighs, waiting for your skirt to rise up as if, to see your panties or a glance of your pussy.

🍬 when you said no, and began cooking the breakfast for you and him, man couldn't just sit as if his butt was even aching. He walked in a speed of light towards you, hovering behind you, and that's when.. his eyes rolled towards the back of his eye sockets. Your plump ass cheeks, were visible..

🍬 " why are you dressed like this baby? To tease me? Mhm? (Grabs your ass cheeks immediately) this plump cheeks Wants my mouth? Hands? Or my dick? Mhm? Come on princess, use your cute mouth!"

🍬 to tease him, well to make it more harder for him you immediately pushed him and acted tooo busy in work. Yes yes, you got no time to indulge in sex.. who will cook right? " You tryna act busy? Princess.. guess you forgot who sets the rules here hah?"

🍬 The next thing you know is that you were slammed against the kitchen counter, skirt flicked up, the cold air brushing your silky folds and ass. "No panties? (Smirks) such a slutty princess.. so this was your plan hah? To get your loving husband soo hard? (Spanks your ass harshly)

Nanami Kento

🦋 he was stil working in the living room, on his laptop. It was a Sunday, you deserved this day afterall, isn't this a man's responsibility to take care of his wife and her needs? So why he keeps forgetting it.. suddenly a very naughty idea came up in your sick brain.

🦋 you wore a mini skirt, which barely covered your ass. You did a little makeup, smoky eyes and red lipstick.. to make sure he notices, cuz you aren't a makeup girly, and when you did such a loud makeup, obviously he'll notice it. Slowly you emerged out of the bedroom and grabbed the car keys, without even sparing a glance at him you began to walk towards the main door.

🦋 the sound of your heels clink clanking on the floor immediately caught nanami's attention as he looked over you to see... Your ass peeking out of your mini skirt, those long legs of yours.. the jiggle and clapping of your ass cheeks? His brain stopped working. But then the reality hit him. " Where are you going dressed like.. that?" His facial expression was stern. He immediately placed his laptop on the couch and began walking towards you. " I asked a question, baby"

🦋 " i.. i..am going to.. grocery market" he knew you were lying. " Going to a grocery market, wearing makeup, heels and... A slutty skirt yeah? With no panty? Tryna get laid? "

🦋 in an instant kento pulled you and lifted you on his shoulder, your ass on display, skirt flicked up, and he immediately grabbed the opportunity, by spanking harsh and good on your ass cheeks. He began to carry you the bedroom, and throughout the way he kept spanking your ass cheeks. "Keep whining and i might end up biting this piece of cake yeah? Gotta fuck your brain to keep it stuck inside your simple mind that you.. wear modest clothes outside yeah? That you're only my whore yeah? " Your plan worked.. but at what cost? Well sure.. afterall this is what you wanted, your loving husband with you, now that he is with you, or.. more like inside you.

Toji Fushiguro

🍡 you were wearing a mini skirt in the personal gym which your husband owned. Yeah, a gym in your house. Cuz, you got a gym rat hubby.. and now you also began to work out with him, not really, just to see your man sweaty and whore yourself out.

🍡 you walked in and saw your husband, doing push ups. Fuck.. that already got you wet. You walked towards him and stood infront of him.. toji kept doing push ups, but just lifted his head up to see you but- oh fuck. He instantly froze... His eyes wide open when he saw.. such a mini skirt? And.. he could see... Your.. pink lace panties.. under the skirt.. oh god. Those plump thighs... He immediately got up and pulled you by your butt and lifted you, your legs wrapping around his waist.

🍡 " tryna distract me baby? Cuz... You successfully did." "No (pouts) I just wanted to see you doing workout" " yeah? By standing infront of me wearing this slutty skirt, flashing your pink lace underwear? Yeah, fucking slut (spanks your butt cheeks)

🍡 he instantly laid you on the nearby couch and ripped your skirt.. you couldn't even analyse anything what happened, as his light like speed, and his animalistic hunger for you was turning you on so much.. you immediately spread your legs wide for him, which earned a smirk from him as he slapped your pussy harshly, and ripped that pink lace panty of yours. " Such a beautiful pussy, i keep you so well yeah? I keep this pussy cute and fresh, only I make this cunt wet.. get that? I fucked you more then a 1000 times already yeah? And you still got this tight grip, fuck tryna squeeze me?

Which characters would you like? Requests are open. Do like and comment 🦋🍬🍡

[pirateprincessblog]

2 batteries away

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: if he can choose to spend time with someone else rather than you, daryl would do it. not because he hates you. he simply doesn't have any type of connection with you. and you are so young. but when rick demands that you join him on a scavenge hunt, he doesn't have much of a saying into it, and chooses to act unbothered. he also chooses to ignore the way you tease him the whole trip, your hips swaying just a bit more when walking than usual. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: daryl dixon x female reader 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: alexandria, pre-negan 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: big age gap, reader is half daryl's age 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: voyeurism, masturbation, breath-play, subtle ddlg, toys, subtle dacryphilia

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i am on season ten of twd (my first time watching) and it feels like this man's clothes keep getting tighter and tighter each episode and i am so here for it. also the way his arms magically always glisten in the sun as he subtly flexes when the camera is on him? give me a break I BEG

Also I miss Rick very much 🥺

*

"i have a special request. if i'm allowed to do that." a playful voice calls behind you.

you turn around, squinting. the sun is high up in the sky, and right in your eyes. you make out carol's short hair, and nod at her as a sign to keep speaking.

"i'm gonna need something i can make cookies or cakes with. hazelnut, chocolate, almonds,... you know. cake stuff." the woman smiles.

"i'm going out for ibuprofen and possibly viagra, not chocolate."

"viagra? for who?"

you chuckle under the cap rosita has given you, and try to subtly glance over at the man loading the car with weapons. he grunts, glaring at you and instantly shutting down the bullying party you wanted to start.

"i don't need no damn viagra." he slams the trunk door shut, and walks past you, intentionally pushing his shoulder into yours.

you fall a step back, holding in a laugh. carol has her hands on her hips, but her laugh isn't hidden. she knows daryl can't say anything to her.

"oh, come on. i know that you like to stay quiet and mysterious, but a little joking in hard times never hurt anybody." the woman defends you, scrunching her eyebrows at daryl.

"it's hurting me." he yells from the car, slamming the door shut.

"how am i supposed to survive this trip with him, ricky?" you complain, shoulders hanging with rising irritation with the situation.

"you survived a walker flooded prison with nothing but an axe before you found us on the other side, and you're telling me you can't survive a grumpy old man for a few hours?"

"thing is, i killed walkers. i cannot kill him. boo-hoo, the precious tracker. i also, when i see a footprint on the floor facing a certain way, know that someone is headed there. wild, right?"

rick pats your head, messing up the cap in the process just to tease you.

"bring me some shirts on the way back, i'm getting sick of these flannels. and get yourself something nice."

one would think that he gave you his credit card to buy him those shirts at the nearby mall. telling you to get yourself something nice, that idiot. the less fun truth is that you are headed towards a landfill two hours away from alexandria, in hopes of finding anything. glenn and morgan haven't had any luck for a few days now, so rick decided to change the route and the team. daryl and you, apparently, make a great one. that pain in the ass of a man.

"i'm leavin'. you stay and talk 'bout me all you wan'. i'm the one actually doin' something for this place."

"stuck up much? see," you open the car door, sitting inside annoyed, "with the viagra, you'd be a much more pleasant person to be around."

"enough with the damn viagra. fuck's the matter with you?"

"god, just start driving and drop me off somewhere in the middle of the road and i'll find my own shit from a different place. rick doesn't need to know."

"no," he simply responds, not sparing you a glance.

rick waves at you with a smile on his face, knowing damn well what he did putting the two of you together for such a long quest. he's so going to hear from you tonight. if you make it out alive while trying to kill daryl.

"so, what are you hoping to find? booze, peanut butter, new clothes? i'm starting to think you stapled those clothes to your body."

he says nothing, eyes focused on the road. you sigh. maybe you're the problem. you're poking him too much, knowing he has zero patience and doesn't very much like your company. you decide to keep quiet for the rest of the drive, only occasionally glancing over at him out of boredom.

you can't lie, he is an attractive man. you don't know why you're mean to him. he is gorgeous to you, your taste in older rugged men not failing you. you're surprised rick isn't the one you fell for. but next to daryl, he looks too... neat. daryl is just perfect. most of the time his deep raspy voice has you subconsciously rubbing and squeezing your thighs, led by a tingling sensation in your lower stomach. his clothes have recently gotten very tight on him, the buttons of his black shirt threatening to pop and give you a view of your lifetime. he has been working out a lot, you've seen him. fuck, not only have you seen him, you also stayed there, secretly snapping pictures with your polaroid your father had left you before disaster struck. you only had a few films left, yet no self control. something about seeing daryl all sweaty as he did push ups, grunting and almost moaning, thinking that nobody can see him, did things to you.

"wha'?" he asks, sensing your intense gaze.

you turn your head away, flushed. "nothin'."

"mmh."

he keeps it short and stern, and if your panties weren't drenched as your brain replayed the memory of his glistening arm muscles, you'd probably make a sassy remark. he raises an eyebrow, probably also wondering why you aren't being mean for so long now.

"shoes." he says after some time.

"what?" you ask, absent-mindedly staring into the tall trees and the walkers hidden among them.

"i'm hoping to find some shoes. it's gettin' hard to walk in these. i also hope i find sum more arrows."

you nod, surprised that he has actually graced you with an answer. you thought he'd say something like cigarettes or alcohol. you hated people who smoke. but daryl is an exception. he looks damn hot doing it.

"you?" he asks.

"well, new underwear would be nice. i ripped all my good panties, and let me tell you, these thongs are not apocalypse friendly."

"shit, girl, oversharing much?"

"what, you disgusted by female underwear?" you poke back, playfully.

"not female underwear. your underwear."

you're offended. you squint at him, and have to fight the urge to smack the back of his head.

"for your information, you don't look or smell all flowery and fresh yourself. i could use your hair to grease up carol's tray for her cakes. and your fingernails? they have their own ecosystem at this point."

and back to the bickering it is. he grunts again, furrowing his eyebrows. he secretly glances at his fingernails. indeed, they had a layer of dirt under them, but daryl thinks that he has bigger issues than some dirt that will get washed off anyway.

"oh, i also wish to find-"

"yeah, lost interest." the man interrupts. "also, for future conversations, you do not mention your... thongs... to people that are ol' enough to be your father."

ew.

ew.

ew.

he did not.

"what, is that how you see me? you could be my father?"

how utterly disappointing. there you were, sitting next to him, imagining him going feral between your legs, all while he is viewing you as his child. there goes your masturbating material for tonight.

"well the age fits the description."

"fuck you. seriously." you sigh, turning your body towards the window so you can fully ignore him.

arriving at the gates, you immediately notice a few things that you will be taking home. how foolish of you to not take a truck instead of the crusty old car.

"watch it." just as he says it, an arrow passes by your head, followed with a loud thud.

you don't have to look back to know that a walker had managed to sneak behind you, while you were foolish enough to stay swooning over his arms glistening in the sun with sweat.

"damn it, girl, i don' know what it is with you, but you gotta snap outta it. i can't keep saving ya ass."

"yes, dad." you reply, annoyed.

"hey." he calls, hand reaching to cup your jaw and turn your head towards him. "shut it before i make ya."

if it weren't for the feeling of his rough hand on your face and his raspy voice sending you a warning turning you on, you would've slapped him and told him not to touch you. but oh, you were going crazy inside. you found a new way to push his buttons, and you're going to have so much fun with it.

you walk behind him into the landfill, the smell of junk pinching your nose. daryl is also bothered by it, seeing his scrunched expression as he scanned the first piles of garbage.

"there." he points his crossbow a certain way.

you follow the invisible line, your eyes landing on what seemed to be several taped boxes. they could have three things inside: food, weapons, or traps. weird how nobody has discovered this place yet. or maybe they have, and they took all valuables already.

daryl doesn't wait for you. he makes his way towards the boxes, keeping his crossbow ready if something goes wrong. you, on the other hand, have tucked your knife safely and are walking around like there isn't walkers scratching at the fence, waiting to sink their teeth into your skull.

"dammit."

you hear rattling. you turn around, only to find the man kicking the boxes angrily. the can he has just thrown on the floor rolls up to your feet, and you crouch down to examine it. it is food, but expired. eating it would be like playing russian roulette.

"i mean, we can still... ya'know, take it with us. what happens happens."

"dixon, if i'm gonna die, i'm gonna die from a bullet or a bite. not from a rotten macaroni."

he raises an eyebrow at you, amused with your laid back attitude. he doesn't give you much attention, just silently walks next to you while scanning his side of the landfill.

"ah, sweet!" you cheer, running towards a pile.

"wha'?"

you almost trip over the broken wooden chairs, trying to get to a certain little box in the pile.

"the hell are ya doin'? we're losin' time!"

your eyes instinctively roll at his voice. you know he has nothing smart to say. finally reaching the box, you jump back on the floor, eagerly opening it. seeing that the item still has the foil sealed on it, you victoriously raise it in the air, cheering.

"you have made it a goal for yourself to die today, didn't ya?"

"nah, not anymore. i found something that will keep me occupied and will fuel my will to live a little longer."

you continue your way forward, leaving daryl to stare at the box you have discarded, trying to figure out what it is. but he has decided he has no time for your immaturity. he needs to ask rick to not ever put him with you on a hunt again. he's lost a lot of time already, and hasn't found a single thing to bring back.

"clothes." you point, the pile of fabric sitting on top of a garbage hill.

"you gonna go get 'em?"

"why would i go? you go."

"you wanted your... thongs... so, you go get that."

you scoff, setting the newly acquired item on the ground and slowly climbing up the hill.

"what is this, anyway?" his curiosity wins.

you sit on top of the pile, examining the clothes and discarding the ones with holes in them.your eyes dart to the man below you, and you chuckle when you see him crouch and take the item in his hand.

"it's a wand."

"wand?"

"yes."

"for?" he keeps pressing, his eyes never leaving the pink gadget.

"masturbating."

thud.

you look down, mortified. he better not break it.

"careful with that, what's the matter with you?!"

"you're fuckin' crazy, girl."

you silently mock him, sticking your tongue out at him and repeating his words with exaggerated face expressions. he really gets on your nerves. you gather the clothes you have found into a bed sheet, tying it up and putting it over your shoulder, then pick up the gadget from the floor. it seems alive, it didn't break. you only hope it works. you're young, inexperienced, surrounded by people that are either too young or too old for you. though, the old part never was a problem for you, it was for them.

feeling bored, you decide to keep poking him. he is just so grumpy, and silent. and inviting to irritate.

"so, dixon, you've never heard about one of these?" you wave the gadget in front of his face.

he spares you a glare, and continues walking.

"come on, we're talking. nobody's around. tell me, since all of this started, how many times have you even approached a girl? do you even mastu-"

"'m not in the mood to be picked on right now."

"i'm not picking on you. i promise. just trying to converse."

"you want to be useful? hold this. it's in my way." he throws his vest at you, now only wearing a tight black t-shirt.

you scowl at him, shoving his vest into your backpack.

"you're so fun to be around. i get why rick put us together."

he grunts, leaving you behind. rolling your eyes, you go down a different path, hoping to find something useful to all of alexandria and not just you. turning a few lefts, you find yourself standing in front of a little shed like structure. you bang on the door with your foot, and when hearing no growls, you bravely enter. it is dusty and dark, with a singular armchair and a few cupboards.

you open each one of them, happily shoving all the food you managed to find into your backpack, opening a protein bar along the way and chewing on the oats and dried fruits. you missed having those with yogurt for breakfast.

not only will carol be happy with the amount of nuts and flour you have found, rick will be proud of you. you might even ask for a reward when he sees the amount of canned tuna and jam you have found. you forgot what pancakes taste like.

after clearing the room, you peek out the window. daryl is in the distance, going through piles and kicking stuff out of his way, as if playing. you've collected way more than him, and the sun is at it's highest point. the shaded room seems like a perfect place to take a nap, or just rest your feet and ears from him.

you plop on the armchair like a star washed up on the shore. it feels so lonely lately. rick has michonne, carl has enid, rosita has her boytoys, even gabriel might be having more fun than you. as wrong as it was, you stay up listening to the noises coming across the street. they're loud, there's no way you could ignore them even if you wanted to. even rick had to step in and ask them to be quieter. but what is a problem to someone else is a solution for you. is it wrong to touch yourself while listening to someone else fucking? yes. but is it the only way that works for you? also yes.

you eye up the toy that peeks from the backpack, then glance out the window. daryl is busy with his crossbow, having found something that he could use on it.

fuck it.

you unbuckle your pants, not bothering to take off the panties. your fingers are quick to pop the batteries that come with the package in the gadget, and when the lid clicks, you admire it for a second. there it is, in all its glory. waiting to be abused every day by you, until you find a replacement. hopefully a softer and live one.

taking off the thin protective foil from the head, you position yourself on the armchair. you glance at the window again, carefully monitoring daryl. now, if you thought that eavesdropping and touching yourself was bad, what was this? watching daryl's fingers work on his crossbow, arms glistening in the sun, all while the pink toy softly vibrates on your pulsating clit.

you sigh at the newfound pleasure, rubbing the toy up and down your slit, while your eyes stay focused on the man unaware of your situation. he probably even forgot about you. or is thankful that you have left him alone. even better for you. you get to be a pervert without him ever knowing.

you arch your back, throwing your head on the backrest as you focus on chasing the release. it's been awhile, it won't take you long. your eyes open again, just enough to see if the man is still in his spot. your fingers change the vibration strength on the gadget, and instantly, you gasp. it is so intense, and so much, but you don't want it to stop. this thing is your new best friend, you better get used to it.

something else peeks out of the backpack, the leather catching your attention and giving you an idea. like an animal in heat, you grab the vest, burying your nose into it and spreading your legs further. daryl's scent takes over your senses, making you lose control and become a moaning mess. you are getting wetter by the second, the toy now slipping up and down your slit with ease and giving you maximum pleasure.

"fuck- daryl-" you can't help but gasp, enveloped in his manly scent and fabric.

your hips hopelessly rub against the toy, chasing and chasing after something that isn't quite getting closer, even though it feels like it.

"the hell?"

your eyes widen at the interruption. you drop the vest in your lap, hiding the crime scene from him. the man stands at the door, expression unreadable. yours is one of horrified mixed with desire, the way he stares down at you angrily sending arrows to your core.

"daryl- i- did you, uh, find anything?" you try to play it off, foolishly.

"yeah. i found an animal in heat it seems. couldn't wait for alexandria to do that shit?"

"I-"

"is that my vest?"

he slams the door shut, leaving you two in darkness. you gulp, moving the gadget from your core and letting your panties fall back in place.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry-" you stutter, failing to put a sentence together while he intensely glares at you.

"ya ain't sorry." he grunts. "ya know why i despise being around your ass? you're inappropriate."

"no, look," you try, but he points a finger at your face, making you close your mouth.

your eyes burn, tears announcing their arrival.

"it's not like that-"

"shut up, dammit! i'm talkin' now! do you have any idea in how many uncomfortable situations you've  put me? all those snarky dirty comments, all that flirting, now this? do you understand what that does to me?!"

he's yelling, frustrated and angry with you. but why are you getting wetter? why can't you think rationally? he is scolding you for being inappropriate, and you continue to be even more inappropriate by sexualising simple yelling. not your fault he looks damn hot while he does it, though.

"you're- you're half my age. i can't allow myself to play your games, no matter how tempting."

what?

"what will alexandria think? they already have no good opinion on me. engaging with someone half my age the way you want me to engage is- it is a horrible idea. i'll be out faster than i was in."

silence swallows the room. you still lay on the armchair, half naked with his vest covering you. he paces around the room, fingers running through his hair as he tries to gather his thoughts. you think whether it's time to finally say something, but you wait another moment. you need to gather your thoughts too.

tempting, he said. so he thought about it too. he saw past your jokes, and has been controlling himself so well. if only you knew what it would take to shatter that control, even for just a moment.

"since when do you care what other people think?" you start.

"since rick chose to trust me."

you hum, understanding.

"listen-"

"so you've been thinking about it." you're the one to interrupt now.

his head snaps up, looking at you with his eyebrow raised, as if asking you where you're going with that statement.

"there's nothing wrong with it. it's not like we're getting married or something."

"i'm older than you. way older than you."

"so?"

"i could be your father."

"if you say that word to me one more time i swear i will turn this landfill upside down to find another sex toy to shove up your asshole."

"why do you get so triggered by it?"

you roll your eyes, looking anywhere but at him. you press your thighs together, missing the warmth and buzzing from earlier. fun killer.

"because."

"why?"

"doesn't matter."

"tell me," he presses further.

you finally look at him, frustrated. "because i have fucking daddy issues and the thought of you being so much older than me turns me on. there."

you get up from the armchair, putting his vest on so that you can cover yourself. it almost reaches your knees, hiding your body from his gaze. he says nothing, and does nothing for a few moments. you have your back turned to him, hands resting on the counter of the half chipped kitchen cabinet. your head hangs low with embarrassment from the confession that just left your mouth.

tears stream down your cheeks, luckily hidden by your hair. but daryl doesn't miss the little sniff that comes your way. he sighs, then paces around the place a little more. when you don't hear him anymore, and finally face the fact that nothing will be the same with him anymore, you dare turn around. you almost gasp when you come face to face with him, his chest pressing against yours.

"wha- what are you-"

"shh..." he hushes you, eyes roaming your face.

you aren't sure what to do, or what he wants to do. if he tries to comfort you by giving you a hug, you will break down. and you will never face him again. you thought it was only sexual, but the way he looks at you and hushes you as you cry is awakening new emotions inside of you. ones that you will push down for now, because it is not the time.

"daryl, i'm sorry." you hiccup, genuinely feeling sorry for ruining whatever you had with him.

you feel his hands on the back of your thighs, and before you can react, he picks you up and places you on the counter. you instinctively spread your legs, letting him in closer.

"don't be. or else i might regret this."

you look at him doe eyed as he places his hand on your neck, gently holding you just beneath your jaw and softly pressing into the sides of it. he brings his head close to you, eyes half closed as he stares at your lips.

"daryl." you whisper, not sure of this anymore.

"just hush."

and with that, he presses his lips into yours, softly moving them with rhythm only known to the two of you. his other hand caresses your thigh, then creeps to your bottom and pulls you to the edge of the counter, enough to have your crotch press against his.

you can taste your tears while you kiss him, and he probably can too. he doesn't say anything, hell, you even feel him twitch between your legs. you grind on him, unable to control yourself. it is different than the wand. it's warm, and it responds back. it's better.

"hey," you call, slowly pulling away. "i don't want you to do this because you feel sorry for me or something like that. are you doing it because of that?"

"nah."

before you can continue bombarding him with questions and overthinking, he places his lips back on yours, this time a little rougher than before. you open your mouth, tongue eager to taste him properly. and fuck, he tastes good. you hated cigarettes and alcohol, but from his mouth, you adore it. you finally give in, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him impossibly close. finally.

it doesn't take long for him to have you whining and grinding on him, wanting more than just kissing and thigh grabbing and occasional choking. you beg into his mouth, quietly at first, but with each kiss he gives you, you become louder and more demanding.

"touch me, please, please, please," you're desperate.

he smiles, for the first time in a while, and snakes his hands under your top. you hurriedly take off the vest and the top, to make it easier for him, but he pulls his vest back on your body. you are now wearing nothing but panties and the leather vest, making daryl incredibly impatient.

"ya just needed some attention, didn't ya?" he kisses your neck, his hand cupping your breast and thumb playing with the hard nub. "some sense fucked into ya to shut that mouth."

for someone that almost never talks, he is quite the talker now. and you can't complain, when his words have you clenching around nothing down there.

"needed someone older to take care of ya."

you moan at his words, spreading your legs further and raising your hips into his crotch. his hand reaches down to your panties, landing a light slap on your clothed clit as a warning. there's growling outside of the shed, but not enough to make you care. you'll get what you want, and no amount of walkers will stop you, even if it'll be your last.

daryl moves your panties aside, pulling away from you to see you. he hums, thumb coming to contact with your clit and circling it a few times. you shake under his touch, throwing your head back. it isn't something you haven't done before, but the touch is foreign, and different. his fingers are rough and big, an opposite of the soft flesh of your clit. he rubs your slit up and down, enough to smear your arousal so he can touch you better.

"fuck..." you trail, grabbing the edges of the counter and digging your nails into the hard surface.

"didn't find a boy your age to open you up?"

you shake your head. he hums again, fingers now circling your tight entrance.

"that's a shame, then. i'm gonna have to take my time with you."

"what? why?" you ask, disappointed.

"i'd split you in half, little one."

every word in that sentence sent arrows to your core. fuck, just how big is he?

"then, what are we doing?"

he turns around, leaving you yearning for his touch while he grabs your discarded toy from the armchair.

"you share toys?"

"sometimes."

"good."

he pulls himself out from his pants, and you are left with your jaw dropped. it fuels his confidence, the way you're staring at him as he rubs himself up and down. he isn't big. he's huge.

"daryl, how will that fit in me?" you ask, actually concerned.

"it'll take a little time. i'll train ya, and you'll take it like a good girl, the way i teach ya. but ya have to start listening to me and stop pissing me off."

nodding eagerly, you push your hips towards his hands, searching for his touch again.

he turns the gadget on, pressing it against your clit. you moan out loud, grinding on the buzzing toy and sliding with ease. you hear him grunt, and even a quiet moan. your eyes drop to the situation between your legs, and when you see him pressing his cock to the gadget, you swear you could squirt all over him. he rocks his hips with yours, pushing you up against the wall and grunting in your mouth, just like you moan into his. he doesn't break eye contact with you, instead getting off on it.

"i'm gonna cum, daryl." you whine, hands reaching into his hair to pull.

"give me a second."

you'd give him two if he wanted. you try your hardest to focus on not yet cumming, but the way he sweats and grunts for you doesn't make it easy.

"daryl-" you warn, moans becoming high pitched and inviting the walkers around the shed.

he sticks two fingers in your mouth, keeping you silent and helping himself get closer. you only needed to swirl your tongue around him a few time and take him all the way to his knuckles to have him moaning and cumming all over your stomach, rubbing the toy up and down in a sloppy pace.

you follow, pleasure washing over your body along with a thin layer of sweat, the sight of his seed on you making it more intense. you are dehydrated, hot and filthy. and you love it, because he is the same. you'd be like that every day, if it meant getting him the way you just had him.

"you didn't have to..." you say as he helps you dress up, wiping his seed from you with his bandana and discarding it.

"i wanted to. before, today, too."

"you sure?"

"yes."

you nod. he sees that you are not convinced, and he sighs. he pulls you in for a hug, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"i rarely regret my actions. trust me."

"yeah, well, i hope i'll get more of these actions you speak of."

he chuckles, planting a kiss on your forehead.

"you know, for someone who just came all over me, it's weird to see you so sentimental and comforting."

you don't even finish the sentence, he already playfully throws the bandana at you, rushing outside to hide his smile and to hide from your attempt at attacking.

"oh, you- you- you asshole!"

"right back at ya."

***

yippie! my first twd oneshot, idk how to feel about it lol. had this in the drafts for a while now. feel free to send feedback, doesn’t matter if it is good or bad 🩷

[lokilaufeysonslove]

𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞

𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

// Summary // you and your ‘best friend’ Bucky are at the party, and you get jealous when some girls stat to swoon over him.

// Warnings // teasing, pet names (sweetheart/doll), no smut but kinda smut-ish.

// Author’s Note // divider by the amazing @saradika-graphics / gif by @buckypascal

MASTERLIST

You were at a party with Bucky. He was off with Steve and Sam, taking shots. You lingered around as you watched a group of girls giggle over how hot he was.

You felt jealousy creep up on you. You walked past the giggling girls and sat on Bucky’s lap.

The girls’ smiles faded away, as they stood there, devastation on their faces.

Bucky pulled you into his chest. "Someone's jealous, huh?" he asked, as he kissed your neck.

You shivered to the soft touch of his lips on your skin.

"Me? Jealous? Don't be so cocky.” You said, still enjoying the kisses he was giving you.

He smirked, as he watched you stare down the girls like a hawk.

"Wanna make them jealous?" he whispered in your ear.

"Um, maybe that would be nice.” You said innocently.

"Yeah, maybe that would be really nice." He said, voice softer than before, his lips touching your earlobe, while bringing one hand softly up to the side of your neck and the other tightening around your waist.

"Look at them, I think they are getting jealous." He said, but you could barely focus on his words.

The girls left the place, looking disappointed. Bucky’s hand on your waist started to move down slowly. His lips were still on your neck, leaving goosebumps as he spoke, "I think they got jealous enough that they left."

He scooped you up in his hands and turned you around in one move, facing him.

"Let's leave this place, maybe that would be nicer." He commanded, looking straight into your eyes and smirking.

You stood up and followed him to the car. Just before opening the door he teased, "So, that went well, they were all so fumed. I could practically see them killing you with their gazes, but all right, let's get you home now."

You realized how cold the absence of his touch felt to your skin but as you got in the car you could swear you felt his gaze burning on your skin.

After settling in car you shifted in your seat to hide the goosebumps that still were there on your skin.

He knew all the signs to see you wanted him.

The faint red that has crept on your cheeks, the goosebumps right there on your thighs, and it would be a lie if he said he didn't want you, a huge lie. But not now, not here.

He didn't know if you felt the same way like he felt about you, but the way you got angry over those girls and sat on his lap, he couldn't have kept his hands to himself after that, right?

God, he mentally thanked those girls for the excuse to touch you.

He rested his hand on your thigh and your breathing turned shallow, just the reaction he needed to pull out.

"You are such an ass," you grumbled. He chuckled, and started moving a finger up your thigh and replied, "Am I now?"

You bit your lip, not knowing how much he needed you to do that.

Needed, not wanted.

Just as you reached your house and were walking to your door, you tripped over air and he gripped you hard before you could fall and bit his cheek to contain his laugh.

"I didn’t know i had this much effect on you, sweetheart." He said.

Oh, you were so fumed. You just wanted him to want you, but if he wanted to be an asshole then he may leave.

You started towards the door, ready to slam it shut on his stupid face and were almost successful, but before you could even blink, you were pinned to the door with him having both his arms around the either side of your head, your noses almost touching.

Goodness, you needed him to touch you.

And in that moment his soft steel blue eyes were looking so deep, your spine shuddered as he ran his hand softly through your hair. 

Just as you leaned into his touch, he came so close to your earlobe, you could feel his breath on your skin.

"There's something in your hair, doll." He said, before pulling out something from your hair and flicking it off.

"Don't dream of me tonight, Y/n." He said smirking all the way while going back to his car.

"Asshole." You mumbled to yourself, still breathing heavily.

[interruptedtrance]

Papaya rules (lando x reader x oscar)

Smut; 18+

contains: exhibition, voyeurism, anal, threesome, butt plug, calling lando and oscar daddy and sir, calling you princess, female body anatomy, she her pronouns

rough sex after the hungary gp

masterlist

the deal in your relationship was whoever wins gets to do whatever they like, today oscar won. 

opening the front door, lando is met with your whiny moans. of course you two are already celebrating oscar’s win, it’s like you have forgotten all about his existence. not wanting to disturb you two he  makes his way to the living room silently praying you two can’t be heard from there. 

mustering up all his strength, he plops himself into the soft sopha and tries tuning out all the noises. hearing you whine to oscar about lando’s lack of presence makes him sit up straight with his heart skipping a beat, so they finally remember me, lando thinks to himself, making his way to the bedroom with a hasty step, almost taking the door off its hinges from how hard he has slammed it open, making both you and oscar jump a bit. 

there you two are, in the middle of your guy’s fluffy bed, oscar with his back leaning against the headboard and you with your legs wrapped around his waist and arms wrapped around his neck, all flustered and red in the face. 

“lando! come and join us” you say quickly

“yes princess”, lando grins, “i see you are waring your toy today, it looks nice in your ass” he praises with a slight smirk.

“thank you daddy, but my ass would look nicer stuffed with your cock” you say as innocently as you can, you know your plan has worked when you feel oscar twitch inside you, and hear lando’s sharp inhale.

“princess, do you think you are ready?” oscar asks, moving his hands from your ass to your waist showing a bit of concern and hesitancy in his eyes.

“i think i am sir”, “please daddy, can we try” shyly you ask, giving lando puppy eyes.

“okay, let’s try” lando says confidently walking over to the nightstand pulling out lube and sitting down on the bed, “come oscar, let them off for a second”

“or we can do this while princess here is sitting on me” oscar said it more as a command than a suggestion, “i mean her tight pussy feels too good to even go a second without it”

“fine, are you alright with that princess?” he asks giving you the most concerned look ever.

“i am, just please go slow” you whisper, tucking your face into oscar’s chest, with him moving his hands up to your back as an extra piece of comfort.

“i will, i promise” and so lando began prepping you, slowly taking out the plug, you moan at the sudden empty feeling, which is soon replaced by one of his lubed up fingers entering you, whining again into oscar’s neck gets you reworded with a kiss from him to the side of the head, and praise form lando with more promise he will go slow, and he does. 

he moves his finger in and out of you, curling it a bit as he enters you again, once oscar feels you relax in his arms he gives a little nod of go ahead to lando to add another finger. with a little shudder coming from you, and even more praise from the guys, lando maneges to put in a second finger, he continues the slow repetitive motion of moving his fingers in and out and slightly curling them while he gets you all comfortable for him.

“please daddy, can i have your cock now?” you ask almost fucked out of your mind “i need you, i might cum soon”

“yes princess let me adjust first” and so he takes his hand away, sits down, legs following yours and going over oscars, gently he places both of his hands against your waist alongside oscar’s and lifts you just a tiny bit, so he can adjust his now very well lubed up cock against your hole, “ready?” he asks worry still lacing his voice

“yes daddy” you say determined, and so lando lowers you back down, where in your pussy you are filled by oscar and in your ass by lando, “yes, thank you daddy, thank you sir” you moan out in pure bliss, with a slight pant in your voice you tell them to move. 

they start moving in sync, slowly and slowly pace growing faster and harder, especially when both can feel the other move inside you, urging each other to hit the perfect spot inside you, with each thrust from them your body feels more lip, especially now that your head is supported by oscar’s shoulder and you're just a moaning mess, no coherent words can be pulled from you. 

“princess, are you close? i can feel you tightening around me” oscars says, nicely moving his head so he can get a glimpse of your expression.

“yes sir, please don’t stop” you say no louder than a whisper.

“don’t worry princess we won’t” lando says sincerely, “cum when you have to, i know you are our good girl just waiting for permission”

“thank you daddy” before you are able to finish your sentence you release around oscar, the tightening around him makes him release with your orgasm, and lando hearing oscar groan from pleasure with a final thrust releases in you. 

“let me go get a towel” lando says, removing himself swiftly from the mess of limbs all you have become now. with a little whine you look at oscar, it’s like he can read your mind. before lando returns to the bedroom from the on suite bathroom, oscar picks you up in his arms, slowly sliding out of you and carefully making his way over to where lando is. he gently places you down on the countertop, and lets you go with one final kiss on your lips. he makes his way to the bath, letting it fill with water and bubbles from the soap he has put in, until the bath is full you three share small short intimate kisses.

“come, the bath is full” lando says between kisses, picking you up in his arms he makes his way to the bath, letting oscar go in first so he can gently lower you into his arms, and lay your back against his chest, with a final kiss to your forehead he joins the bath behind oscar.

[wesstars]

hot on your lips

tara carpenter x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: her hands are on your shoulders, and the next thing you know, your back is pressed to the bed, and tara’s rocking her weight on top of you. she leans in close, breath as soft as her skin against your lips, breathing out a quiet ‘yes.’ wc: 3.0k tags: explicit, minors DNI!! no-ghostface au bc i didn’t feel like fitting it in. bad dirty talk, top!reader and bottom!tara, needy!tara, D/s dynamics, reader is a little tiny bit of a sadist (as a treat,) sex on camera, exhibitionism and voyeurism, mild restraint, mild degradation, horribly excessive use of italics a/n: am I back?? idk how i feel about this. thank you to @evilwednesday for helping me out w the cover image & the title :)

masterlist

Tara’s in your arms before her bag even hits the floor.

You’re so, so glad the hallway is empty as she nearly bowls you over in the doorway of your shared apartment, peppering your face with kisses. You lift her up and give her a spin, pressing your lips to hers—it’s pure comfort, after so many long months of Tara’s school semester. Long distance was a real bitch sometimes, but Tara reminded you every day of how it was all worth it. In fact, you’d felt as if what you had with her was made more real by the distance so often between you. But now, she’s in your arms, finally, and you nudge her suitcase inside with your foot, bending to grab the backpack she’d discarded.

Pulling back, she speaks, so soft and shy it nearly makes your heart burst. “Hi.”

“Tara,” you breathe, “I thought—I wasn’t supposed to go pick you up from ORD until—”

“There was a change of plans,” she interrupts, palms on your cheeks to pull you into a bruising kiss. You feel yourself practically melt into her, like a docile dog in a firm hand. You set her bag down, just managing to not drop it. “I took an earlier flight-” her lips are on yours again- “Couldn’t wait.”

“Couldn’t wait… for what?”

“This.” She slips her tongue into your mouth, all hot and velvet on your teeth. God, the way it felt to miss her was addictive, but this was a million times better. Grabbing blindly, you miss the door handle a few times as you’re distracted by her soft lips, finally managing to slam the door shut. Shifting your strong hands to the soft crease of her ass and thigh, you bump your teeth into hers in your eagerness, but she doesn’t seem to mind. You walk her into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind you. 

Tara smells like the airport and outside wind, something uniquely New York caught in her hair. She pulls back for only a second to reach around, drop her jacket and shoes, leaving her in just a shirt and comfy sweats. Her palms are sun-warm on your cheek and your neck; any place that she could touch was fair game for her. Your mind feels hazy already—it makes it hard to focus as you try to maneuver around furniture you could navigate in the dark, Tara’s presence more than disarming. Part of you wants to slow down, ask her how her semester went, but the smarter, Tara-influenced majority of you knows that with the way she was pulling at you and your heart, she would straight up kill you if you did that. You’re all too happy to oblige her, kissing her back for every day that she’d been gone. 

“I missed you,” she whispers as she pulls on the collar of your shirt, even though you’re pressed so close already. She’s feather-light in your arms as you carry her down the hallway, nearly stumbling through the bedroom door. You let her down to stand between your feet, freeing your hands to cup her jaw. The curve of Tara’s face is as familiar as the way her nose brushes against yours, soft. It only takes a second, really, but with just her scraping her nails on the back of your neck, you’re wanting, enough to hold her tight and feel her melt against you. 

Tara nearly topples the both of you when she grabs your shirt again and pulls. You just barely catch yourself from crushing her against the bed—but as always, she takes you by surprise, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and slanting her mouth against yours to deepen the kiss. The look in her half-lidded eyes as you peek down at her tells you all you need to know about her intentions. With the way you were kissing up on her, anyone would think that you’d been apart for years, not months, but god knows you couldn’t get enough. 

It’s near obscene, the press of your tongue against hers, but with all of the urgency built from the past few months, it only serves to split you open. As quick as it began, your kiss, broken by barely a gasp for air, turns heated and hungry. It’s filthy, and the urge to spit in her mouth and make her swallow is more than a fleeting thought. Instead, you force her thighs open with your hips, grabbing her ass and pulling her close.

Under her sweats, you can feel the edges of fabric underneath, and you grin, skimming your hands lower. You furrow your brow when you feel a telltale band of elastic, and your hands tighten on her thighs.

“Tara-” your voice comes out a rasp- “are you wearing thigh highs?” You’re nearly dizzy with how much blood rushes from your head to your stomach, pooling low and hot.

“I know you like them.” Tara smiles a little, impishly, but she looks down to your hands instead of your eyes. You know her��she’s looking for confirmation that she’s right, that she hadn’t overstepped in wearing something for you. In your mind, it’s absurd of her to even entertain this sort of thing, the way it sends a tingle up your spine. But Tara needs it, and you’re more than eager to please. You trail your fingers to her waistband, pulling her sweats down and off to expose her. Your grip on her hips is tight and squeezing, holding her in a way that’s unmistakable as want.

You cock your head, ignoring how loud your heart runs. “Oh, yeah? Is that why you’re matching again?” You take her hand, slide your thumb over her fingernails, in gel black. The sheer fabric is the same shade, soft as sin against your palms. Briefly, you consider tearing them apart, seeing the ruin of tatters against her skin—but her little whimper as you trace your fingers where her thighs spill out over the top makes you change your mind.

She’s breathing hard from just the kissing, and when she sighs into your mouth, you’re reminded of the way she’d boldly suggested, your blushing cheeks visible even on FaceTime, that you let her take a souvenir back to her apartment. Tara had complained that she was bored, in a way that homework couldn’t solve, her wide eyes telling you that was as true as could be. You never could back down from a challenge, no matter how warm it made you feel—that was why there was currently an old camera sitting on the bedroom table. You smile, biting your tongue.

“Remember what you said that night, baby?”

You point to the other end of the room, to the camera there, mocking. You expect her to laugh, to shake her head with an exasperated fondness, and push her lips back on yours. Instead, she freezes, swallowing. Her grip on your biceps tightens.

“Tara?”

She turns her gaze to you, and in the half-light you see that her pupils are blown, wide in a sort of disbelieving arousal. It hooks you in, a tug in your stomach, as your mind fills with only Tara. 

“Tara…” you repeat, “do you remember?” She’s quiet, a blush rising steadily to her cheeks. “‘Don’t you wish you could see what you do to me,’” you tease, leaning in close. “You want me to watch you, right? Well, doll, there’s a camera right there.”

“I—” Tara nearly protests, but oh, her flush, the way her hips move so subtly, is telling enough for you. Not letting her hesitate anymore, you grab her shoulders, flipping her so she’s under you. She fits perfectly, holding you up just as much as you’re holding her down.

“You’re gonna watch this when you’re alone, right?” You tease, trailing a hand down her arm to push her wrists above her head with one hand. In your daze, you know her tells as well as you know that drag of desire in your stomach, and so you already know that she’s— “You’re gonna watch this and rut that needy pussy on your hand, is that it?”

It’s your turn to look for confirmation—distantly, it rings in your mind that you must’ve lost your mind, to be talking to Tara like this, but what’s more apparent to you is the moan that escapes from her mouth, the way her eyes slide shut.

“Yeah,” she breathes, something shameless in the twist of her brow as she arches her back. Her nipples press into your chest, hard through her thin shirt, her knees falling open even more. She’s warm, underwear just clinging to her and leaving nothing to imagination. “I’ll watch it whenever you want me to.”

“You will,” you laugh, something deep and dark. “But when you touch, you’ll let me know when you’re gonna come, okay? So I know that you’ve stopped, like a good girl.” You grind your hips between her thighs, watching her breath catch. It’s a soft, bated moment, but something cracks in the air, nearly audible. The shift between the two of you is a familiar one, apparent in the way that she clings harder to you, presenting her chest, the column of her throat, the tilt of her jaw. 

“I will,” she says obediently, her pleading gaze making you grin. “I’ll stop, I’ll touch myself, whatever you want—”

Just as quick, you’re pushing yourself off of her. The room is quiet, save for your footsteps and Tara’s breaths, adorably shaky. The camera is easy to set up, even if you do chance a look at her one too many times. You’re back by her side, and you both watch the red light, winking back at you.

You sit down next to Tara, trailing your hand up and down her stomach. “I’ll tell you every dirty little thing I’d like to do to you, if you’re patient,” you whisper in her ear, something meant for only her to hear.

Her hands are on your shoulders, and the next thing you know, your back is pressed to the bed, and Tara’s rocking her weight on top of you. She leans in close, breath as soft as her skin against your lips, breathing out a quiet ‘yes.’ Giving a little twist that not-so-accidentally presses her heat against the seam of your jeans, she pulls her shirt and bra off in one miraculous motion. You touch her skin, smooth and warm and hot, and you just know she enjoys how your eyes can’t help but drop lower, your hands nearly following. She leans in to kiss you again, the ends of her hair tickling your collar. You both pull back, and you take a second to just look at her, and you can see how she’s been. School was long and difficult, it’s in the set of her eyes, and you want to know more, despite the burn in your stomach. 

But with the way she’s looking back at you, white little teeth worrying at her lip, you all but smile.

“Alright, pretty girl,” you tease, “what is it, now?” She whines when your hands meet her chest, rolling her nipples between your fingers. “C’mon, tell me.”

It comes more easily than you expect, and it drops molten heat into your chest. “I wanna ride your face,” she whispers. You grab for her hips, tight. “I want everyone to know you’re mine.” 

Glancing over at the red light, you bite down a groan. “Do you think you deserve it?”

“Yes, yes—” she’s already straining against your grip, trying to crawl her way up your body.

“That’s for me to decide, Tara.”

She keens, but she drops her head to watch your hands on her—she’s sensitive—as she pants. You shush her, sliding your thigh between hers. It must catch on her in just the right way, because she’s tensing up in your arms, fingers digging into your shoulders. 

“You’re looking so desperate,” you laugh, glad she can’t see the flush on your cheeks.

“I am.” Her bold declaration stops your heart in your chest; you know she’s telling the truth. 

“So say ‘please,’” you murmur, head spinning.

Her eyes are glossy when she finally looks at you. “Please…”

“Very good,” you say patiently. You lean up to kiss her, sucking her bottom lip none too gently. “Why don’t you beg a little?”

You see how the false hope makes her tears so willing to spill out. Her hips rut on your thigh, with no rhyme or rhythm—you’re practically begging yourself to help her, but you hold back.

“Please,” she says again, taking a ragged breath. “Please, want your tongue in me—”

“Louder, Tara,” you snap, threading a hand in her hair and pulling her head up, none too gently. You force her to look in the camera, watching her pupils dilate as she stares down the lens. “I want you to be reminded of what a whiny bitch you are.”

“Want you to eat me out,” she whines to the camera, closing her eyes against the redness in her cheeks. “Want…” The next time she says it, it's louder—you release Tara’s hips to pull her panties off, nearly tearing them when she shifts up the bed at the same moment. 

It makes you ache, being so close to touching Tara, her scent heady and thick, ensconcing your every sense. Her hands grab the headboard as you wrap your arms around her thighs to pull her closer to your lips. She’s practically shaking in her anticipation, and truthfully, it’s hard for you to wait any longer. You trace your tongue across the stretch marks on her inner thighs, and then straight to her cunt. She’s all velvet and honey against you, as you eagerly run your tongue up and down, savoring what you’ve missed. It’s so intoxicatingly good that you nearly miss the way she cries out, your name a shameless prayer. 

You miss her weight on your chest as her back arches, and immediately you’re tracing the dip in her spine. Irrevocably, you’re watching her every move as you tease at her clit, making her rut her hips against your face, chasing friction.

“Fuck,” she says on an exhale, breaking the word into two damning syllables, just like the ba-dum of your heart. Tara tears her hand from the headboard, threading her fingers into your hair to pull you closer. It’s a gesture that you should chastise her for, but you can’t bring yourself to resist her.

“That’s it, pretty girl.” You wrap your lips around her clit and ease two fingers in at the same time—she’s so wet it doesn’t take much to get them in. When you look up at her, the glazed expression on her face is something sated and satisfied, like chocolate wouldn’t ever melt in her mouth. A lazy grin graces her lips, a dusty pink rising up on her cheeks as she squirms against you, adjusting easily to the familiar stretch. 

Somehow, you can feel in your gut that she’s being good for the camera, and you can’t bring yourself to take your time. You want everything at once, to make her come over and over again into your waiting mouth, greed your only sin since you were so far past lust, falling into adoration and something dangerously like—

“Please.” It spills out of Tara’s mouth, golden and warm.

“You’ve been saying ‘please’ an awful lot, Tara.”

You wrap your hand, the one not knuckle deep in Tara’s cunt, around her thigh. Squeezing, you felt the soft stockings against your palm as you guided her hips to rock into you, your fingers and your tongue. You wanted her to feel whenever she’d play the video back, for her to be able to memorize fucking your mouth, so no matter the distance, she’d remember. As if on cue, her moan echoes around the walls, in your mind. 

“The camera’s gonna pick that up, you know.” Your voice is rough, out of breath with how warm it is to be under Tara.

Her voice is tight, choked. “I know, baby.” 

You don’t stop, only shifting slightly to get your thumb on her clit, so you can lean back. You swipe your tongue on your bottom lip, tasting her so sweet, and you watch her eyes, fading in and out of focus, tracking your motion.

“Gonna—”

“Tara,” you laugh, but it’s a warning. She whines, hips twitching, and you can see her lip between her teeth.

“Gonna—oh god—it’s—”

“Gonna what?” You mock, flexing your fingers. “You can do better than that.”

“Please, let me come?” Something warm unfurls in your chest at Tara knowing you want her to ask, your perfect girl, even when she’s so far gone.

“Why?” Your question makes Tara still her hips, which is saying something. “Why should I let you, baby?”

She’s quiet, and since you’ve always been weak for her, you take pity. Your heart’s racing, and the heat in your stomach craves to just see her.

“You’re so good for me, my love… why should I let you come?”

“Because—” Tara breaks off with a lovely little whine, and then it hits her. It breaks up into a floaty feeling in her stomach, like a plume of sparks. Her thighs are trembling around your head, and you lean up to smear her slick on your lips, nudging her clit. “Because I’m your good girl.”

“That’s it, doll,” you murmur. “Come for me, Tara.”

And Tara comes, white hot and tense against you, and in that moment, you think you believe in magic. You want to invent something new just to eternalize her with more than the camera, something more than memory. She’s breathing hard, and you wiggle yourself out from under her. Pliant in your arms, she’s quiet as you help her lay down gently on the covers. For you, your mind was anything but quiet. You think you could run anywhere just to feel Tara, and you can’t resist smiling. Crawling over to give her a peck on the lips, you think Tara’s done—she’s blinking sleepily, eyes flicking between you and the camera, so you move between her knees to shuffle her stockings off, skin against skin. You hear her clear her throat, breaking your trance of fondness.

You look up—you see Tara look to the camera again, and your eyes helplessly follow. She’s got a mischievous little quirk to her lips, like she just knows how bad you wanted to see her come, and…

“You’re gonna tell me those dirty things now, aren’t you?”

--

a/n cont'd: 🌝

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

masterlist

[jyoongim]

hihihihihihi!!!!! omg i LOVEEEE your writing and i was wondering if i could req alastor x reader reader is alastors s/o and like after a long stressful day of work at the hotel they get at it yk...and one of the hotel staff walk in on them..HEAVEN FORBID IT BE CHARLIE..

if you dont want to do this one or it makes you uncomfy pls ignore this! rest up,stay hydrated,eat and sleep!

I LOVE YOUR WORKK

Hehehehe any witness to these two better pretend they saw nothing! Never mix business and pleasure guys!!!!

———————————————————————

The hotel had been pretty busy all day.

You and Alastor had been running around like chickens with how busy it was.

Charlie had wanted to revamp the redemption program.

So that meant the two of you were swamped with how to make these things successful.

The two of you were in your shared office and it was quiet.

The two of you had been sparing looks every now and then at each other.

You had finished most of your paperwork and made your way over to Alastor’s desk. You looked over his shoulder to see what he was doing. His ears twitched to make him aware of your presence.

You placed your hands on his broad shoulders, already finding tension “Why don’t we take a little break hmm? Youre gonna be stiff slouched over like this” your sweet voice said as you pressed your fingertips into his shoulders.

Alastor sighed, setting the paper, sitting back and letting you work your magic. You smiled as he relaxed and moved around the chair to settle in his lap, the sound of static hummed through the room as he melted into you.

You peppered his face in kisses as you grind your clothed pussy against him. 

The stress of the day and being in close proximity with your man really had been doing a number on you.

You latched onto his lips, moaning softly as your clit caught against his hardened crotch.

You blinked when you felt the hard wood of the desk under your ass. Alastor looked at you with lidded eyes as he stood between your thighs and tapped his claws along your stockings, ripping little holes in them.

“How am I suppose to get any work done with you my dear” he asked rhetorically as he slipped his hand under your skirt and slid your damp panties to the side, claws teasing your sticky folds.

You gasped as a single digit sunk into your heat, quickly adding a second as your slick coated his hand.

He slotted his mouth against yours, tongue conquering your mouth and twirling your tongues together. 

Your body seized as he worked an orgasm out of you, making you moan into his mouth. “A-Al oh!” Your thighs trembled as your cunt spasmed on his fingers.

You panted as he pecked your lips one last time and the sound of a zipper caught your ear. Alastor leaned you back, making you upport yourself on your elbows as he spread your legs a little bit more.

Your breath hitched as Alastor’s cock pushed into you.

”O-Oh fuck!” You moaned causing Alastor to bare his teeth as he set a steady pace, drilling his cock into you.

”we gotta make it quick darlin”

————————————————————————————-

The sound of the desk rattling in tune with his thrusts gradually was getting louder as he pounded your cunt.

”s-shit shit shit ah! A-Al aah ha!” You whined, throwing your had back on the desk as you tried to squirm away as another orgasm rips through you.

”You gonna cum for me hmm?” Alastor grunted as you gushed around him. He lowered his upper body onto yours as he slammed his hips into you over and over, not caring that you were staining his desk with your cream.

”please please please fuck fuck fuck! Ah!” 

It was the moment you cummed at the slam of Alastor’s hip, all over his cock when the door to your office opened, you didn’t have enough time to sit up and push Alastor off when your eyes widened in horror as Charlie stepped through the door. 

“Hey guys I just wanted to- OH SEVEN HELLS! IM SORRY! IM SORRY! IM SO SO SORRY!” The princess slapped her hands over her eyes and scurried back out the door.

You felt like you could have disappeared. You looked at Alastor in shock when you felt his cock twitch ”A-Alastor…did you just?”

He hummed before moving his hips again.

Your eyes widened “Are you crazy! We need to I don’t know console Charlie erase her memory or die again”

The red demon ignored you as he flipped you onto your belly, legs shakingly supporting you as he sunk his cock back into you.

”Oh its Hell dearest im sure a couple of demons shaggin don’t phase her, besides I need your help going over some of the bigger details” he chuckled, kissing your shoulder.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

idk if you know that burrito blanket meme but perhaps a request for cold weather and toasty blankets?? wrapping up mikey in a blanket like a burrito and fucking him that way so he cant get away or move his limbs??

Author's Note: I think I know exactly what you're talking about, anon. Or maybe it's a similar meme lol. The one I saw goes like: "Sad sushi -> roll sushi in blanket -> place sushi roll on couch -> dick that sushi nice and hard! -> happy lil sushi roll!"

Pairings: Mikey x male reader

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Mikey, bondage technically LOL, creampie, whiny/childish Mikey

“Y/n it's sooo cooold!!” Mikey groaned for what seemed like the millionth time today. He did this every single time you had to stop cuddling. Bathroom break? Mikey complains. Go grab a snack/drink? Mikey whines. Fetch another blanket since it's “freezing”? Mikey holds onto your arm so that you can't walk away

“C'mon, cuddle with me!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose before turning around to face him again. “Mikey I need to pee. It only takes me like, two minutes. Not even.”

“What if I freeze to death before you get back!” Ok now he is really being dramatic...

“You're not gonna freeze, Mikey. I'll be right back.” As you shut the door to the bathroom you could hear the exaggerated moans and groans of your partner. Whining into the couch cushion like a child. If he was really so cold, then you'll find a way to keep him nice and toasty

As soon as you finish up in the bathroom, you dash over to the closet and pull out another blanket, bringing it back to the living room in a huff. Mikey looks up at you with outstretched arms, silently begging for more cuddles. Instead you make him stand up so that you can wrap the blanket around him — effectively turning your boyfriend into a warm burrito

“Heeeyy!! Y/n, how am I supposed to cuddle with you now?” He whined, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. Your response was pushing his fluffy self back onto the couch, pulling his pants and underwear down in one swift motion

“Y-y/n—?!” Mikey gulped, getting pulled by his thighs so that his legs now rested on either side of your waist

A glare silenced the boy rather quickly. Shrinking down in his little cocoon while you explained, “If you wanna be whiny I'm going to fuck you until you're too stupid to speak, understand?” You said with no real malice, simply a warning for Mikey not to push your buttons too much

Mikey whimpered but nodded nonetheless. Watching as you spit on your cock and stroked yourself a little. He knew exactly what was coming next— a familiar pang of pain hit his nerves when you pressed the tip of your dick inside of him. Pushing past the rim a little at a time

Another glob of spit fell onto his entrance and your tip, acting as shoddy lube. The burning stretch caused Mikey to wince, scrunching his face up as you filled him halfway. You shushed him, gently caressing his tensed thighs and petting his hair as you allowed him to adjust some more

Shallow thrusts helped him get used to your size, eventually leading into full on slamming into Mikey's hole like he was nothing more than a fleshlight. Deep and hard. Using his current burrito state as a means to dick him down as hard as you could; surely bruising his poor thighs

“Fffuck– Gonna cum, Mikey—!! ” You groaned, an iron grip around his little legs. “Gonna fill you with somethin' nice and warm, babe~ ” Gazing down at your baby boy's fucked out expression is what tipped you over the edge — cumming with a choked moan

When you eventually pulled out, some of your cum dribbled out and down Mikey's ass, eliciting adorable sounds from him. Maybe while he's stuck like this you'll fill him a little more? Keep him warm and cozy with your cum bloating his tummy