#damn you task switching!!!!
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so hungry… but the doll clothes need organizing…
#damn you task switching!!!!#i’m the hungry where i’m incredibly frustrated and overwhelmed both mentally and sensory wise#so bagging up doll clothes and having the bags fall off my lap onto the floor nearly made me cry#i’m up to find food now but like. my motivation… please stay motivated#haven rambles
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Simon “Ghost” Riley Headcannons
A/N: these are loosely inspired from real life experiences I’ve had living on a military base, these men have a on & off switch it’s crazy
Simon “Ghost” Riley x F! Reader
Warnings: NSFW
• Simon first saw you while he was in the States for a training exercise, he was out at one of the local bars with some of the other soldiers he was with
• Soap had actually asked for your number first & since he was so intoxicated you turned him down
• Simon apologized for Soap & that’s how you met
• he did have a heart attack when he found out there was a bit of a age gap between you two but quickly got over it when he realized how mature you were
• it was a long distance relationship at first (from personal experience it sucks in the beginning)
• there were times when he couldn’t talk due to the risk of potentially exposing his teams location so you had to write letters every now & then
• you cried constantly whenever you saw some horrific news in the paper about what was going on overseas, the anxiety was awful
• but when he returned the reunions were euphoric
• you have a bottle of his cologne & aftershave so you can always feel close to him
• and you’d spray your perfume on the letters you sent so he couldn’t always smell the paper when he was missing you
• it took him sometime to open up to you about what had happened to him in his past, & your respected that
• when he first met your family, he was shocked by all the support he had received from them
• he asked your parents to marry you the first time he met them & showed them the ring too (ofc they said yes)
• he proposed to you in private after a nice dinner, he got choked up during the proposal
• your dad specifically was elated, he got to brag at how bad ass his son in law is
• your mom if she’s a teacher, had her entire class send cards, candy, anything they’d need in care packages Soap nearly cried when he opened the sweetest letter from a little girl (this actually happened irl my mom’s class did this & one guy got really choked up)
• Simon always would be your fiercest protector
• since he’s like an freakin tree he will guide your head with his bear paw of a hand in crowds
•he CANNOT sit with his back facing the door it stresses him out
•this man is strapped 24/7 whether that be a knife, bear spray etc. he’s ready
•he has a trauma kit in his car because “you never know”
•Simon is 1000% one of those apocalypse preppers you have freeze dried food, medicine, water, etc. he’s always on edge
• he sleeps with a damn rifle next to y’all’s bed
• you have a whole security system too
• your guy’s apartment is impeccable like you could eat off of the floor
• hell your guy’s bed has damn hospital corners
• Simon adopted a cat so you don’t feel as lonely when he’s deployed
• He’s your chonky boy & you do send plenty of photos to Simon when he’s deployed
• Gaz & Soap tease him about him living his “cat dad” life
• you start trying for a baby two years into your marriage
• Simon does fall victim to the “curse of the infantry” (which is not a negative thing btw it’s a running joke that infantry soldiers have all daughters) he makes girls
• he was deployed during your pregnancy & was worried sick he nearly missed the birth of your daughter
• that little girl is the most well protected baby in the whole world, the Task Force gifted him not just baby stuff but damn security for the nursery
• He watches your baby from his phone in the nursery on deployment, he was silently crying once when he was watching you sing a lullaby to your baby girl
•Price had to comfort him father to father
•In reality Simon has a very hard cold exterior at work for the sake of keeping his mental health for the profession he’s in but deep down he’s always held a soft spot & your relationship just brings it out
✨NSFW ✨
• there is a big size difference between you two & it drives him insane
• the first time y’all had together he didn’t want to break you in half
• when he returns from deployment y’all go at it like rabbits for multiple rounds, your poor pussy was so sore afterwards
• has a massive corruption & daddy kink
• he’s an ass man I don’t make the rules here so any position where your ass if the focal point is his favorite
• y’all have made so many sex tapes for him when he’s deployed, he has a whole folder on his phone & jerks off to them in the bathroom or the porta potty (it’s a canon event, trust me) to them
• he lets your cockwarm him constantly when you’re on the couch, when he’s working, hell y’all had even fallen asleep like that
• I know people say he has a Prince Albert piercing but alas per army regulation that is safety risk I think it’s more likely he’d use a cock ring on you
• during a military ball you two snuck off & fucked in a supply closet
• he couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel room after seeing you in your gown, it was red his favorite color
• and he just looked so fucking good in his dress uniform, that was the night you totally conceived your baby girl
• he groans into your ear when he cums & he’ll use his body to just eclipse yours
• “one more baby girl” & “c’mon pretty girl use your words tell me what you want”
• is a sucker for babydoll lingerie it brings your innocence & triggers his corruption kink
• moral of the story Simon Riley fucks
#call of duty#cod imagines#ghost call of duty#ghost x y/n#cod masterlist#ghost x reader#ghost mw2#ghost simon riley#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley smut#ghost smut#ghost cod smut#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#simon ghost x you#call of duty smut#cod smut#ghost x female reader
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chicken scratches ☆
synopsis : katsuki tries to surprise you...but he's taking too damn long !!
an. merry christmas(if you celebrate) n happy holidays yall !! i love my boyfriend as usual,,btw have yall seen that new hori art ??? dreamy sigh my man so stupid..
cw. itty bitty manga spoilers, but otherwise nun !!
when katsuki manages to hold a pencil again and write with his right hand, it looks absolutely horrendous.
switching from writing with their left hand then back to the right one would've been disorienting for most, and it probably was for him, but he didn't show it much aside from the occasional grumble and scoff at his trembling grip. nothing ever holds him back after all.
you sigh "can i—"
"no. don't look yet." katsuki has his back turned to you, sending you a sharp glare. hunched over his little piece of paper like how he'd hide his page from kaminari's peeking eyes during an exam, always so dramatic. he turns around with a huff and you snort with a roll of your eyes.
you had come over to his room after he’d told you to, mumbling out a quick “come over.” over the phone and hanging up before you could say a word.
and so here you were. waiting.
“katsukiiiiiiii—”
“shut up,” your boyfriend grunts, his scribbling sounds harsher, in a bit more of a rush. “so damn impatient..”
“but i wanna see what you wrote !” you kick your legs up in the air, pouting at his back sitting in his office chair. “i’ve been waiting for decades to see you write with that arm again.”
katsuki scoffs out a snarky laugh “yeah, well how do you think i feel ?” you groan, whining at his dark joke, he laughs again. “just stay put. ‘m..almost done.” he trails off, focusing back on his surprisingly long task.
you do know that despite being able to use his arm again, it had gone slow—surely, but really slowly. then again, he originally wouldn’t have been able to use that arm at all, so you’ll honestly take anything.
but the excitement is getting to you, and you really wanna see what he wrote ! so slowly, surely, you quietly try to sneak the short distance to his desk to peek behind his shoulder. however, your boyfriend has some crazy spider senses.
he sighs “if i turn around and you’re not sittin’ your ass on the bed i’ll—HEY !”
busted. katsuki catches you mid creep, so close to seeing his paper until he swiftly turns in his chair. he reaches out with his left hand, reflexively, and grabs a hold of your arm.
“you can’t ever just—do what you’re fuckin’ told ! knew you were being too damn quiet ! ” he complains between gritted teeth, trying to wrestle you away from him.
“i just—wanna see !” you shriek. when he suddenly remembers he can use his right hand again, and it almost feels nostalgic the way he jams it in your side to tickle you, dropping his pencil in the process. you think you hear it rolling on the floor, but your own noises of surprise overpowered the sound. he’d really gotten better at using that arm again, you could cry if your boyfriend wasn’t actively trying to shove his entire hand inside your ribs and push you away.
during the light scuffle, his hurried movements magically make the paper fly away with a harsh whip of his arm and a gust of wind, you thank every god when you notice it, just a second before he does. you’re half sure the world slowed down as you slide down to the floor and clutch the piece of paper in your grasp like the fate of the world depended on it.
the little piece of paper makes your heart jump, with its crumpled up edges and wonky writing and all.
I love you
both the o’s are too long, his u trails off towards the end and the e looks like he'd written it with the pencil in his mouth. it looks nothing like his usual handwriting.
but it was him, unmistakably, undeniably him and all of him and all of his efforts. all his efforts coming down to this. being able to write i love you and to show you.
your heart does more than jump, it restarts in your chest.
harshly, your flipped over by katsuki. he’s red all the way down to his neck and his eyebrows twitch angrily. but his hands, both his hands are gripping your cheeks hard and pulling at them and you can’t help but laugh.
“little shit. can never jus’ lemme be romantic..” he pouts, pouts like the adorable tryharding asshat he is, and you’re so so happy. your cheeks hurt cus he's tugging at them but his right thumb is digging into your cheek. you can feel the little callous on his middle finger because he holds his pencil with too much pressure on it.
“you’re so adorable.” it tumbles out between a watery laugh before you can stop it, katsuki’s jaw ticks and he gets even redder if that was even possible—he uses his right hand to squish your nose shut mid breath so your ears pop.
“shut it, shut up. ya ruined everything.” ducking down, his teeth make contact with your cheek and your chin knocks against his when you jump with a little scream. "i literally just finished. was just about to hand it to you, but noooo—everythin' has to go your way.." he angrily mumbles into your neck.
you press a kiss to his nape and he stiffens "i'm sorry for ruining your perfect surprise." he scoffs, biting at your shoulder. "i'm really happy though, it was unfortunately very worth it."
"you're a fuckin' fiend." he spits out, and you really can't help but laugh "love you too." you snort out, and his hands, both of them squeeze your sides hard, your cheeks hurt and you can't help but laugh.
#i lub him heuehwuhe#i lub him smuch#please like he's my friend#i love him your honor#ugh i love him#god i love this show#god i love him#AAAYAUAZHSHSHS#THE VOICES#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugo fluff#bakugou imagine#bakugou x reader#katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#my suki#bakugou x y/n#bakugou x you#bakugou x fem!reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugo x you#bakugo x y/n#katsuki x you#katsuki x y/n#katsuki bakugo fluff#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugou fluff#bakugou drabble
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Okay, seeing the one where we have to get permission to have a job is kinda funny. Especially since in the state I live, at 16 or older you're able to get a job without a parents permission. If it doesn't require extreme labor, NDA's, or requires being 21 and allowed near drugs or naughties.
So, what job was Reader going for? Secretary work? Lol, if we just decided to work at a cafe or something, we wouldn't have to worry about a permission slip.
Which leaves me to wonder, if Alfred set Bruce on Reader, but Reader said nothing and got a job? Bruce finding out Reader has a job, instead of just asking for money?
Especially if Tim recognizes Reader after getting a drink? But he's questioning why we're working there. He chooses to sit back and observe. Only to watch as an absolute Karen yells at Reader and dumps hot coffee on them.
oopsy poopsy i am NAWT familiar the usa child labour laws, but honestly imagined mc as just snatching the first job she sees, like yk when u apply for a bunch of jobs only for like the worst one to call you back?
like u apply for 30 jobs, each of them being like a barista or a cashier or something normal but the only one to reach back to u is a taxidermy LMAO (true story)
masterlist
honestly, you getting some minimum wage job as a barista -- working in some relatively nice area of gotham then one day you just see tim.
just sat there, some over-expensive drink in his hand as he stares at you in confusion? why is his sibling working at a coffee shop? bitch, your dad is bruce wayne WHY are you working a minimum wage job?? if you wanted a job so bad, you should've applied for wayne enterprises or something!
he tries to talk to you only for you to ignore him, acting like you don't know him, it stings. you were preening for his affection a month ago, how could you casually just ignore him?!
whatever plans he had, cancelled, he spends the day sat in a booth, watching your every move. anytime one of your co-workers come up to him and ask him to leave he just tips them like $100 to shut them up.
then, he sees you handling yourself and sighs, maybe you're okay at this, it's good for you, as helpless as you are, to get some experience.
until a nasty customer comes in, shouting at you and berating you, all you can do is lower your head and apologise -- because it's a customer! you can't fight back because if you get fired you'll have to go job hunting again, you'd rather get beat up by damian.
but the sight of you, your head lowered and a frown on your face. well, tim just can't have you working in such environments, he'll just let bruce know.
you pull up home, you're tired from working a 9-5, you smell like caffiene and your social battery is in DEBT only for your father to put his hand on your shoulder and sigh,
"quit your job." he says softly, as if he's doing you a damn favour. when you obviously refuse, he says nothing, just sighs.
and then you pull up to work the next day and your manager tells you you've been promoted and will now work at wayne enterprises ?!
bruce bought the coffee shop just to have you work with him! isn't that great? he can keep an eye on you AND you can spend time with your family!! don't worry, he won't let you do any hard work, in fact, the only thing you're tasked with is spending time with your family !!
just remember to thank tim, he got you a better job AND he gave you oppurtunities to spend time with them, that's all you've ever wanted, right?
if yall sent in a request i PROMISEE i will get back.. i'm just switching between writing the next chapter and giggling at all the nice things yall r saying >3>
#dc fanfiction#batman#platonic batfam#platonic yandere#yandere batfam#yandere batfamily#platonic yandere batfam#yandere tim drake#yandere bruce wayne#platonic bruce wayne x reader#platonic tim drake x reader
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Donato spots it first - Tommy's been fidgeting with the just-too-short sleeves of his shirt for the past ten minutes, fingers curling into the ends of the arms, thumb sliding along the hem like maybe he could make them long enough to fully cover his wrists just by thinking really hard about it. It's stretched tight across his shoulders, the neck hole feels too high, biting into his skin, and Tommy is absolutely certain it's been hemmed in at the fucking waist, because he can barely keep the damn thing tucked into his pants.
(The cost of having those fucking magnificent gazelle legs is apparently torso space.)
"You shrink your shirt in the wash again, Kinard?"
Tommy's been begging their vendor to switch to a jersey blend for years because 100% cotton undershirts are a goddamn bitch and a half to maintain.
Tommy thinks about ignoring the question entirely. They've been razzing him for weeks about the way every single smile line in his face has been putting in overtime lately.
And then she gets a closer look at it. The merch is usually the same cross-department, but every once in a while some probie will get stuck with the task of ordering a few extras to have as backups around the station and they'll go a little too hard on customization. Like, for example, the one he'd picked off the top of his clean laundry basket without looking in his rush out the door this morning.
Lucy's eyes narrow. She reaches forward, pinches the 118 emblem blazing across the breadth of his shoulder, takes in the color and sturdiness of a shirt he definitely can't play off as being old enough to have been from his own time at the One Eighteen.
Donato grimaces so mockingly Tommy nearly warns her that her face'll get stuck like that. "Christ, Kinard, how fucking domestic are you two?"
(Three days off together after a week of getting by with random texts, their schedules nearly opposite, and when Evan had stared at his overnight bag on day two and realized he didn't have any spare undershirts he'd pouted up a storm about the fact that if he had to go back to his place it didn't make a lick of sense to turn right back around to Tommy's, so Tommy had just thrown Evan's dirty undershirt in with the rest of his own laundry. And then prompted Evan to throw all his other stuff in the wash too. Halfway across the city, Evan is definitely rolling too-long sleeves over his palm with the tips of his fingers and Tommy does not have time to think about how much he likes the idea of that )
"He doesn't even know my how I take my coffee," Tommy snipes, like that avoids the question, and across the locker room Johnson slams his locker shut with a snort.
"Because you've been using his increasingly more desperate attempts to figure it out as some weird intricate mating ritual for three months now."
"It's about --."
"--the journey, not the destination," they both interrupt, eyes rolling, and Tommy doesn't bother to try to hide the grin in his face.
"He just wants to get it right so bad."
Donato's face is unimpressed. "Ugh. Can you please stop being so smitten right in front of me? I'm gonna throw up."
Tommy leans in for the kill. "Your wife ever buy you flowers, Johnson? Because I've been trying to decide how much thought went into the arrangement he brought me on Saturday, and I figure -." He dodges the palm Johnson extends towards his face with a bark of bright laughter.
---
Evan 2:15 PM
Boyfriend privileges are a SCAM
Evan 2:15 PM
Why is YOUR NAME on the back of this shirt? There's no way that's standard
Evan 2:16 PM
Chimney's being homophobic
Evan 2:19 PM
Nvm Gerrard saw it and now I'm just sad he didn't actually have a heart attack about it
#bucktommy#bucktommy ficlet#oh shirt sharing/stealing my beloved#tommy and buck secretly enjoy the razzing so much they make it a point of being obnoxious about how smitten they are
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building blocks | yjh (teaser)
(agreeing to be the teaching assistant is the last thing you want in a semester where you're already swamped with work. but, you need a letter of recommendation from the professor and you're out of other options. enter jeonghan, the menace who signs up for the class seemingly on a whim and disrupts your entire routine.)
pairing: master's student!jeonghan x TA!f!reader genre: university!au, strangers to ?? | fluff, some angst, smut rating: explicit, minors DNI (for the full fic) word count: 842 for the teaser (est. 12-14k) warnings: none for the teaser (full fic: smut, drinking, eating, etc.) full fic: september 13th!
a/n: i wanted to drop a teaser of my fic for the TA collab hosted by the amazing @camandemstudios. those two have been working so hard on this and i can't wait to read all the fics. but go easy on me because i know next to nothing about structural engineering. credit to @caelesjjk for this banner, it's so amazing 🥰
join my taglist here or leave a comment to be tagged in the full fic!
Your entire academic (and professional, for that matter) career has been a battle. A fight to be taken seriously. A fight to get the right classes. A fight to make the right connections. A fight for every inch that you’ve gotten. There are times that you wonder if it’s all worth it, wonder if anything should be as hard as this. But, all you’ve ever wanted was to be an engineer. To be able to leave your mark in some sort of meaningful way, even if that’s also a little conceited. It’s all you want and you’re so close to getting some much needed room to breathe.
Except…
You have to make it through one last semester of this damn Master’s program. You had been able to find a sponsor to allow you to commit to a final semester full time, with only part time research work. That’ll put you in a good position to carry on for your Ph.D, with your dissertation topic already picked and funded. Things had been going entirely too smoothly, in hindsight. You should have known. Everything about your application to the upcoming program is perfect. Except for the final recommendation. And, of course, the professor to give that recommendation won’t just give it to you to recognize the years you’ve put into this. No. He implies that there’s something he needs from you.
Nothing really awful, in the grand scheme of things. Not for someone that does want to return as a lecturer at some point down the road. It’s just that you didn’t really want to be forced into a teaching assistant position for Professor Choi’s introductory structural engineering course. It’s the course that weeds out who’s actually going to carry on with the civil engineer branch of the Master’s program from those who may switch out to something that better suits them. Which, again, isn’t a huge deal, except that you remember how burnt out the TA looked from when you took the course and it’s the last thing you need during your last semester. It’s also hard to know that some portion of your future hinges on doing this. It’s also hard to forget another friend of yours admitting Professor Choi had given him a recommendation without the hoops.
Whatever.
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger and all that.
So you schedule your regular meetings with the professor, make a separate email folder for all course related communication, jot down the important dates, and figure out which lessons you have to help plan. First up is going to be the introductory class. Professor Choi comes in and introduces himself while you distribute the syllabus, an odd task when everything is available online through the portal, but he likes things in hard copy. Once he’s done his introduction, he leaves the rest of the first class to you, as he had with the TA in your course during your first semester. For a moment, you consider pointing out that this is a Master’s level course and you don’t really need to do the typical introductions. Most of these people have busy lives and, even though they’ll have to work together on projects, can manage without syllabus week. But, Choi is old school and you know it. You also need his letter, so what’s the point in trying to change his system? You’re not here to do anything other than fill a spot that he was having trouble filling, get your letter, and go.
When you scan the roster before the first day, nobody particularly sticks out. There are a couple of relatively familiar names, though you’re not sure you can place faces to them, but most of the students seem to be in their first semester of the program. It only takes getting to the introductions for someone in the course to stick out.
“Well, I’ve always been good at building Legos. I figure, how different can it really be?” one student answers.
It takes everything in you to school your face back into a politely interested expression when the rest of the class bursts out laughing. Your initial reaction had been incredulity. Surely he couldn’t be serious. There’s no way someone just wandered into this program because he liked building Legos. The laughter from the rest of the class dies down and you keep your attention on him.
“Why did you really join the program?” you ask. That’s what every student was supposed to be sharing. A problem for this student, apparently.
“That is why I joined,” he says with an infuriating smirk.
“What did you say your name was?” you ask.
“Jeonghan,” he answers without anything else.
You consult the roster in front of you and put a star by his name. This is someone you know you’re going to have to keep an eye on.
“Did I get a star already?” he prompts, earning another few chuckles from his classmates.
“Something like that,” you say and then turn to the person next to him. “And why did you join?”
i hope you enjoyed it! and less than a week til the full fic is posted 🫣
taglist: @newjihoonie, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizon, @klecksstorys, @sunflowergyeomie, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @harry-the-pottypus, @okiedokrie-main, @nuttywastelandmentality, @writingbarnes, @gyuhao365, @jjin-kun, @divinityyy, @dibidibidismynameisleeknow, @jelly-n (strikethrough means can't tag)
#seventeenTAcollab#jeonghan smut#svt smut#jeonghan x reader#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#seventeen smut#jeonghan imagines#svt imagines#seventeen imagines#jeonghan x you#svt x you#seventeen x you#jeonghan scenarios#svt scenarios#seventeen scenarios#jeonghan fluff#jeonghan angst#svt fluff#svt angst#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#jeonghan fanfic#svt fanfic#seventeen fanfic#thediamondlifenetwork#svthub#kvanity
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spin me around | joel miller x f!reader
joel masterlist | read on ao3
summary: you find a vintage record store full of rare finds, the man behind the counter the rarest of them all word count: 2,4k warnings: 18+ only, reader is able-bodied & wears a dress, way too much music talk, food & alcohol consumption, pet names, touching in public, dirty talk a/n: written for @secretelephanttattoo's Secret Springs challenge! i saw record store on your wheel and ran away with it - this is highly self-indulgent with the music references (like woah) but what better place for it than secret springs :) not beta'd, keep slaying
The stair treads creak as you head up to the second floor, blank CDs are fastened to the risers and old warped vinyl hangs from the ceiling. A faint melody floats down the stairwell that you don’t recognise, the instrumentals rising in a crescendo as you climb, the varnished railing worn and knotted.
You’d found this place online on your quest for a bargain, the secondhand vintage vinyl shop is situated on a fashionable street at the top of town with picturesque mountain views. After stalking their social media pages, you decided you’d just come and see it for yourself. Having mentally prepared yourself for parallel parking, it was unusually stress-free for a Saturday morning, the sun just beginning to warm the air.
Reaching the landing and glancing around, the room is essentially wallpapered with band posters, crates and crates of records are alphabetically organised, and a gallery of LPs sits on shelves behind the counter. A few customers are rifling through the various collections, one man perched on a barstool with headphones wired into a cassette player. The space is light and vibrant, it feels like a sacred haven.
What really catches your eye is the man behind the counter — unruly silver-streaked hair, trimmed moustache and greying beard, unreasonably broad shoulders that fill out his faded thin t-shirt.
“Mornin’!” He looks up as you round the bannister and flashes you a winning smile, his brown eyes sparkling in the light filtering through the windows. “Anythin’ in particular you lookin’ for?”
You greet him shyly as you enter the room, “Just came to look around, thanks.”
“No problem.” He turns back to his newspaper and you can’t help but stare, stuck in place as you think you’ve found far more than you could’ve imagined.
-
The sheer number of records fitted into the quaint shop is amazing, with some dividers spilling over into two or three boxes. Flipping through the S category, you find Sade, Stealers Wheel, Steppenwolf, Stevie Nicks, and countless others — a never-ending supply of artists and albums, some popular and some obscure.
Your eyes go wide at seeing Pretzel Logic, a favourite album by a favourite band. You’ve considered for weeks whether or not to just buy the damn thing online at full price, but you never did. Now you see why, some sort of divine intervention leading you here to snatch it up at a fraction of the cost — or it led you here for that man.
You’ve been peering over to him every time you move to the next crate — crinkles around his eyes, plush lips, deft hands. It’s almost unfair how beautiful he is, hidden away up here from the rest of the world. Admittedly you tried looking if he had a wedding band on, but you scolded yourself before you could complete the task, not wanting to get caught.
Time slips away from you as you switch between scouring through everything and stealing glances at the mystery music man, your fingers cramping from holding onto far more records than you’d planned to take. You scan over the tables and check for anything you may have missed, slinking through the room and placing your selection on the counter. You rummage in your bag to find your wallet.
“Fan of Steely Dan, huh? Gaucho, Pretzel Logic, Countdown to Ecstasy… You’re cleaning me out here, darlin’.” You lift your head at his words, losing yourself at the endearment.
“Yeah, uh… couldn't help myself,” you huff a laugh, feeling heat under your skin as he keeps his attention on you, a half smile on his face. “I did pick out some others, too. For some variation, you know?”
He fans the records out on the table to see each one.
“Yeah, thought you might be a Fleetwood Mac girl, Eagles is a bit of a surprise, but a pleasant one… Steely Dan, though? Wouldn't have pinned a girl like you as a fan of ‘em.”
“A girl like me…?”
���Far too pretty.” He winks at you with a tilt of his head, that half smile now spread fully across his face before he moves to add up the total. Your mind races as you try not to stand and gawk like an idiot.
“I saw online you had Dark Side of the Moon… do you uh, still have it, by any chance?”
“Full of surprises… I’m afraid we sold that one already, noticed it’s a bit of an elusive find ‘round here.” He drums his fingers against the wooden top and looks at you briefly, his eyes warm.
Shuffling papers around, he picks up a notepad, big hands and thick fingers dwarfing the pages. “I can keep an eye out for you, if you’re okay giving me your number? Won’t bother you, just business.”
“Yeah, sure.” His fingers graze across your skin as you take a pen from him and write down your information. Tearing the page off, you slide it across the counter and tease him, “Wouldn’t mind if you bothered me.”
“Well then, maybe I will. I’d love to know what else you got in your carefully curated collection.” He doesn’t take his eyes off you as you pay for the records, and he slips them into a brown paper bag, folding and unfolding the top like he doesn’t want you to leave.
“There’s actually this nice restaurant—” he turns to look behind him, grabbing a small carton and repositioning it on the counter, stalling as he tries to find the words, “—they have uh, live music on Friday nights… if you’d be interested.”
“Sounds fun…” You mull it over, impressed by his boldness but still wary. “Can I let you know?”
“‘Course, no pressure, here,” he writes his own number on a new page and tears it off, holding on as you reach for it and brush your fingers over his hand.
“And you are?”
“Joel Miller.”
Joel Miller. You quite like that.
-
You’d stared at Joel’s number for days, a constant back and forth on whether or not you should go. On the one hand, you knew nothing about this man except his name and where he worked; on the other, you’ve seen just enough of him to be well intrigued…
You caved and said yes, which brings you to the present day — it’s Friday afternoon and you’re pacing in front of your wardrobe, worried about what to wear. To avoid losing your mind over this, you text Joel for some insight.
You: So, what am I supposed to wear tonight?Joel: Place is smart casual, I guess
Smart casual — arguably the worst fucking dress code description in existence.
You: That doesn’t help meJoel: Just wear a dress or something nice? I’m sure whatever you choose will be perfect
Perfect? Well, that certainly raises the bar. You suspect that Joel isn’t impressed by material things, and isn’t phased by flashy appearances, but you still want to make an effort. He called you pretty once already and you’re hoping he’ll repeat it tonight.
-
Approaching the restaurant, the brick wall facade is lined with fairy lights, the stars just beginning to twinkle in the darkening sky, and muffled music sounds through the windows and glass doors.
Joel waits out on the pavement like a gift from God himself — black dress pants, a hint of chest peeking out from behind his button-up, a blazer hooked on one finger over his shoulder. You can’t help the way your gaze runs over him, noticing how his tummy just pokes out past the waistband of his pants, and just how well fitting those pants really are. You swallow to steady yourself.
“Hey.”
“Hi…”
You fall into silence as you take each other in — a low heat settles at the base of your spine and you drop your eyes to the floor, holding back a giggle like an enamoured schoolgirl.
“Shall we?” He pulls the door open and gestures for you to lead the way, eyes sparkling and a crooked but warm smile on his face, a guiding hand on the small of your back as you step inside.
Black-framed minimalist posters line the walls, the floors are polished dark wood and exposed brass light fixtures hang at varying heights from the ceiling. You pass a long, elegant bar lining one side of the room as you’re led towards the back of the restaurant — this place oozes sophistication, even the waitstaff are in fancy uniforms. Not smart casual.
Joel pulls a chair out for you as you reach your table, a small reserved card rests against a floating candle and two red roses bloom in a slender vase.
“Do you mind if I take the wall?” you ask timidly, pointing towards the opposite bench.
“Not at all.” His gaze is soft as he shakes his head, eyes trained on you as you both take your seats.
“I just— I like being able to see, it’s uh…”
You smooth your hands over the tablecloth as your voice fades off, resisting the urge to make a game of blowing the candle out. You flit your eyes up to look at Joel, finding he’s already staring at you, candlelight flickering in his eyes. You drop your gaze to the table again, failing dismally at suppressing the grin that spreads across your face.
“You look gorgeous, by the way — if you don’t mind me sayin’. Knew you would, of course, but…”
It seems your outfit choice has paid off — gorgeous?
After hours of flinging clothes off hangers, you’d finally settled on a black, mid-length dress — a sweetheart neckline with white piping, the same white mirrored on the hem, a daring slit up one side of the skirt. There’s nothing casual about it, but seeing Joel dressed up and the finely decorated restaurant has calmed your nerves.
You don’t dare look at him again as the waiter returns and places two menus on the table. The night’s barely begun, and you hope it doesn’t end any time soon.
-
There hasn’t been a lull in the conversation once during dinner, a sharing dessert now in the centre of the table as Joel swirls what’s left of his whiskey around the glass. He held back all evening, fingers twitching and curling into a loose fist alongside yours on the table until he finally allowed himself to dance them across the back of your hand.
“How’d you get into all this record business?”
“Started workin’ there on weekends as a kid, wanted to earn some pocket money. The old man who owned it was like a mentor, he taught me all about the world. He left it all in my hands when he retired, and I’ve never looked back.”
A fond smile on his face as he retells his memories, you saw the first day you met how happy and comfortable he was in his charming shop, and it seems that charm bleeds over into him, too.
“And you get to meet all kinds of people — loud, friendly, aloof… pretty ones, too.” He gives you the same wink and devilish grin as before, continuing his stories as if you aren’t burning across the table.
-
Sometime during the night, he’d moved to sit next to you, claiming he ‘wanted to see the band’ — the arm draped on the bench behind you and fingers trailing across your shoulder says otherwise.
He mentioned at the shop that there was live music here on Friday nights — the one thing he didn’t mention? That tonight’s particular band was a jazz quartet — the slow, smooth, romantic kind of jazz, the kind that acts as the perfect backdrop for a night of cheeky flirting, lingering glances and desperate touches.
“Joel, can I ask something?”
“Shoot.”
You roll the edge of the tablecloth between your fingers. “Is this a date?”
“It can be, if you want.” You drop your hands and eye him, unimpressed by his response.
“Alright, I’ll admit, I was hopin’ for a date. I wasn’t really sure how to ask, didn’t wanna come on too strong.”
You’re silent for a beat, considering how to respond. “I mean, you could’ve just asked.”
“Well then, you wanna go on a date?” He tilts his head, eyebrows raised.
“I thought we were already on one.”
He chuckles at your remark, downing the last of his whiskey and momentarily tracing a finger along the rim of the glass. You focus on his movements, imagining his fingers tracing patterns into your skin instead.
As if he can read your mind, he twists himself towards you and plants that same hand just above your knee, fingers curled towards the inside of your leg as he scrapes his nails against you.
“And?” His voice is almost a whisper in your ear, “Has it been a good one?”
He glides his hand up your leg and into the slit of your dress as you nod, higher, higher, higher until his fingers brush against lace. You wonder if he can feel the fabric dampening.
“Y’know the Pink Floyd you asked about? It wasn’t sold, I kept it for myself. I’ll play it for you sometime.”
“You’re gonna talk about music? Right now?”
“What should I talk about instead? The delicate panties you got on? How wet they’re getting?”
Your breath hitches as he shifts his fingers, tucking them just under the edge of your panties and caressing your skin. Glancing around, the band are still playing low and slow, most tables having cleared out by now.
“Would love to see ‘em, if you’ll let me. I’d really love to see what’s underneath though. Pretty girl like you’s bound to have a real pretty pussy, too. Certainly feels like it, Jesus.”
He presses his fingers into you with more force this time and you turn your head to him. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide and not from the dim lighting. He glances down to your lips and back up to your eyes again and you close the distance between you. He repositions the arm around your shoulders, hand holding the back of your neck as you lock your legs together and grind yourself against him.
His lips are soft, beard and moustache tickling your skin as he swipes his tongue against the seam of your mouth. You moan into him as you part your lips, letting him lick into you and you can taste his whiskey. He pulls back and you whine, teasing you with just enough to leave you reeling for more.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
“Take me home, Joel. Please, I need you.”
“Sure thing, sweetheart. Wanna hear the music you can make.”
comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜
dividers by @saradika-graphics
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The Bet
Summary: Loki has an interesting punishment when you lose a bet.
Pairing: Loki x F. Reader
Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Vibrating panties.
A/N: Inspired by that scene in The Ugly Truth.
See my Masterlist Here
“You can’t be serious.” You take the garment from Loki, wishing you could smack the smirk off his face. “You lost the game. So you have to wear them.” He explains, crossing his arms as he leans against your doorway.
“I’ve never lost a game of Uno in my life. You were cheating.” You exaggerate, trying to talk your way out of it. “Put them on. I’ll know if you don’t.” He walks away, leaving you alone.
You and Loki were always competitive with each other, placing stupid bets on frivolous games. Two days ago, you were playing Uno when Loki wanted to make the game interesting. You had beaten him three times already, so you thought you had it in the bag.
If you win Loki had to spend an entire day doing your chores naked. He hated menial tasks, oftentimes he would pay someone else to do his cleaning and laundry. So you knew he would hate it. As for the naked part, you had eyes. You might not get along all the time, but Loki was beautiful.
You had let your dishes pile up, your laundry basket was overflowing, your floors were sticky. You had been busy with missions and Nick Fury made you attend meetings all week so you were behind.
Loki smirked when you told him what you wanted if you won. “If you want to see me naked, you only have to ask.” The devilish smile that accompanied his quip made your skin heat up from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.
“If I win, you will wear the clothing of my choosing to the meeting on Friday.” You accepted, he would probably make you wear a burlap sack or a silly costume. You weren’t easily embarrassed, so whatever he picked wouldn’t be an issue. Fury would be mad with your theatrics, but you had been doing his bidding all week. He owed you.
The game had been going well. You had three draw four cards in your possession, using them strategically. Then the unthinkable happened. Loki won, placing a red card with a number two on top of your card. He had to have cheated somehow. He didn’t even know how to play until a few days prior when Steve taught him.
With only seconds to spare, you slid your panties down your legs replacing them with the pair Loki gave you. They were black and lacy. You were a little unsure why he wanted you to wear these specific panties. He had to be up to something. He wasn’t the God of Mischief for nothing.
You put them on, feeling something hard under the fabric. You straighten your sun dress and fluff your hair. You look at your phone, you were already late. You didn’t have time to take them off and inspect them. You weren’t a sore loser either, so you would wear them to the meeting.
You rushed down the hall to the elevator. You get on with three others, from their white coats you could tell they worked in the labs. You waited impatiently as the elevator stopped on the tenth floor letting them off. You were five minutes late now. You dreaded whatever smart ass remark Fury would have for you.
Finally, the elevator stopped on the sixth floor. You rushed out, running down the hall to the conference room. Fury stopped speaking to turn and greet you. “It’s about damn time.” He said, returning his attention to the smart board behind him.
You looked around the table for Natasha. She always saved a seat for you. But on her left sat Thor and Loki was on her right. The only empty seat was beside him. You curse him in your head as you walk around the table to take your seat. You wonder how he got Thor to switch from his usual seat beside Steve.
Fury starts talking again, calling on Tony to explain some new technology he was working on for all of you. You try to hide your yawn behind your hand. This stuff was always so boring. Why did you have to be here while they discussed how cool they thought this was?
You try to keep your eyes from fluttering shut, afraid you would fall asleep. A small vibration from your panties knocked the tiredness right out of you. It caught you off guard, but it was tolerable. You turn your head to look at Loki who is staring straight ahead, completely focused on Fury.
That little shit. You wouldn’t let him get the best of you, so you raised your hand asking a question and pretending you couldn’t feel yourself growing wetter. You sneak another glance at him, his prominent nose scrunching as he keeps his eyes forward. The vibration speeds up once, twice, three times. You ball your hands into fists, nails digging into your palm.
The device rolls in waves against you, brushing your clit. You bite your lip until you taste blood to keep from making a sound. It hums rhythmically, each pulse bringing you closer to orgasm. You can’t hear what Bruce says when he stands to pass out folders filled with the layout of Tony’s design.
He hands it to you, expecting you to take it from him. But you can’t, one hand is wrapped around the side of your chair, the other is clawing at Loki’s leg silently pleading with him to stop this madness. When you don’t reach for the folder, Bruce looks you over, taking in your frazzled appearance and the bead of sweat sliding down your neck. He mouths “You okay?” You nod a little too quickly and he sets the folder in front of you.
Loki opened your folder, bringing out the page Fury was discussing. His gaze lingers on your face for a second, and you think he’s finally satisfied and going to turn it off. The glimmer of mischief shines in his eyes as he returns his full attention to Fury. It takes every ounce of concentration you have to not yell in frustration. Then you realize his momentary kindness was only to distract you.
The vibration hits its peak, and you lose control. Your fist slams on the table. All eyes are on you. “Do you have something you’d like to add?” Fury asks, assuming your interruption was about the stupid technology you had no idea about. The ripples flutter against your clit, your lower stomach clenching with the onset of orgasm.
“Yes!” You stand up surprising yourself and Loki who lifts a brow. You can’t think clearly so you hope walking will help. You pace the area behind Natasha, every lift of your leg moves your panties, causing the vibe to reach new angles. “I love this! I love it! I lo-ove it!” Your voice raises a few octaves. Tony smiles, excited someone is showing interest in his hard work besides Bruce and Fury.
“This is the kind of enthusiasm I expect from the rest of you.” He says pointing an accusing finger at the others. “What do you love about it?” He prompts you. You stop behind Loki’s chair, he turns to watch the show you were putting on. You clutch the top of his chair, as the vibration sends you over the edge.
“It’s the best! God, the best!” You look in Loki’s eyes as your legs tremble. “Oh fuck! It’s incredible!” Tony is beaming, hands coming together to clap. “Thank you! This is the kind of reaction I was wanting.” The vibration finally stops, as you wobble a few steps to your chair. Loki gives you his hand to help you sit down. You reluctantly take it, settling back in.
The meeting was finally over five minutes later. Everyone rushed to leave except for you and Loki. “Asshole.” You playfully slap his arm. He stands, gathering his phone and folder. “If you need assistance cleaning up that mess you made” He gestures to your legs, “I’d be happy to help.” He flashes that irresistible smile before leaving you to recover in the conference room.
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Here’s Part 2! Thanks to everyone who read the first part and commented! This could be read as a stand-alone as well, so I hope y’all enjoy!
Soshiro x Reader fanfic where after discovering your crush on him, he does everything in his power to get you to confess. It seems that he can't help himself when it comes to you.
P1 P2 P3
Tags list: @surprisemodafakas @yrxhyes
-----------------------------------
Okay, so playing stupid may not have been your best move. But your damn pride kept you from admitting to anything. Luckily, Hoshina seemed to drop the topic after your silence and switched to talking about getting ice cream. Much to your surprise, he's let you off the hook entirely and never spoke about the little incident again. However, that didn't mean he didn't tease you in a different way.
In all honesty, you don’t know how much more of his teasing and flirting you could take before you bashed your head against a wall. It’s like he’s doing everything in his power to make you admit to what you said or to address the elephant in the room. The elephant, of course, being your feelings towards him, which you obviously don’t have.
He's definitely changed since the incident. You couldn't forget how one time when you were patching him up as usual, he used your focus against you.
Treating him used to happen at a respectable distance, but since he knew how absorbed you always were when treating him, he took the opportunity to shift and spread his legs apart, slowly moving you to stand in between them. It wasn't until you felt his hands rest on your hips did you jolt back to awarness and finally notice how close he's brought you. When you tried to yell at him and take a step backward, he threw on a lazy grin and curled his hands, fisting them into the material of your uniform. His grip stung, but not enough to hurt. No, it was only enough to leave you with a hunger you oh so desperately tried to push down. Anchoring you in your place, you didn't know if he knew his effect on you. If he knew if he wanted to take you right there, you might just let him. The dark satisfaction that lurked in his mischievous eyes told you yes, but all he does is lie about how roughly you were treating him and whine at you to be more gentle. In your annoyance and frustration, you don't notice how he's been getting more injured lately.
After that, he became bolder and much more forward, testing more and more every day how far he could push you. He always seemed to find a way to make you touch him. To make it so that your sole focus was on him and only him. Tasks such as examining his suit to make sure there weren’t any faults became an almost daily occurrence. You knew he knew you didn’t know anything about how the suits worked, and yet, he’d tell you to touch the planes of his arms to make sure none of the ridges were poking out. Or he’d guide your hand himself, pretending to teach you what it was you should be looking for. The examination would end with him slyly saying “your turn” and you turning red and storming out of the room.
While he does his best to make you touch him, he puts the same amount of effort into touching you. A touch to your wrist when asking if you need any help with your paperwork. A hand on your waist to move around you when there’s plenty of space. A whisper in your ear as if telling you a secret, but he instead says something completely mundane. Or a casual arm around the back of your seat as if marking you as his. If not directly touching you, he'd still maneuver in a way to intrude into your space. Be it with a hand on the table behind you to keep you close and shielded from the eyes of others or by making sure the only seat available was the one next to his.
The constant touching and proximity left you feeling the burn of his touches for days after. The façade you’ve worked so hard to keep up cracks more and more every passing day.
The worst part of it all was the fact that he seemed so casual about it while you were internally combusting each time. Like the one time when you tried to move away from him, he asked, "y/n-kun, what's wrong?" And moved even closer in faux concern, failing to hide the smirk that lurked beneath his smile. "Ya don't look so good," he continued as he moved to graze your cheek before resting his palm on your forehead. "My, my, your face is so hot and red."
"I... uh-"
He chuckled, reveling in how you were struggling to form words. "Even your ears too," he whispered almost fondly as he continued his exploration of your face. With that, he tucked your hair behind your ear and kept his hand there, playfully tapping the tip of your ear. It was too intense for you. Too intimate. The way he was looking at you. The soft smile on his face. You felt his breath ghost over your lips and all of a sudden you're pushing him back and looking down at the floor. "P-p-probably overexertion, I'll be fine...please excuse me," you said hurriedly, leaving the situation. "Alright, see ya later," he sighed out, and if you thought you heard disappointment in his voice, then you would be right.
But now is not the time to hope about whether or not he was dissapointed. You should get back to work before he-
“Are ya gonna keep staring or are we gonna keep working?” he asks, interrupting your thoughts. Fuck, he noticed. You didn't mean to think about him and all the shit he's done. But in this office, lit up only by the moonlight, you can't help but soften a little. The way the moonlight lights the side of his face is captivating. Not to mention his stupid habit of biting his lip is even more tantalizing than it used to be. It doesn't help that you two are sitting so close together that you can smell the faint scent of his intoxicating cologne. It also definitely doesn't help that your gaze ended up on him while you were lost in thought.
"Sorry,” you murmur, embarrassed, making sure to busy yourself with the file in front of you again.
"Ah, sorry, I forgot I’m quite distracting,” he teases with a smirk as he rests his head on his hand, giving you his full attention.
“Don’t know what you’re referring to,” you retort back a little too quickly. After a few minutes of peaceful silence, you were curious if he was still looking at you. With as much discretion as possible, you shift your gaze towards him, only to be met with his waiting eyes.
Breathtaking is all you can think of as his eyes seem to glow in the light. Your fingers twitch slightly as you have the urge to move the hair threatening to cover his eyes. Of course, the ever-observant Hoshina notices. He always seems to notice everything about you.
"Struck by the desire to touch me?"
"Yes, to throttle you, actually."
He lets out a low whistle and a chuckle at your response, and you try to focus all your energy on your work. Tonight feels different from the other nights. Something about the atmosphere told you that you’d regret running away or saying something you didn’t mean. So instead, you fiddle with the edge of the paper like you always do when you want to calm down your nerves.
Hoshina places a hand on top of yours and stills you. He says, "stop that," but the fondness in his voice seeps through even to your unwilling ears. It could have been due to the exhaustion that your senses were dulled or perhaps the night made you crave his touch a little more. Whatever it was, you didn't move your hand. Slowly and hesitantly, as if scared he'll break whatever trance you were in, he begins to lace your hands together, one finger at a time. His slow pace gave you ample time to pull away. To tell him to back off. To turn him down like you usually did.
But you don't.
So he holds your hand within his, providing you a warmth you didn't know you longed for. Something about his grip makes you feel safe in a way only he ever could. It wasn't tight enough to make you feel trapped, and it wasn't loose enough to let you slip away. With only the sounds of the crickets outside and your beating hearts, you two remain frozen in time. You're trying to remain as calm as possible but as you're moments away from ripping your hand out of his and making a run for it, Hoshina startles you by dropping his head onto the table and resting it in the crook of his free arm. Despite his body angling itself away from you, his grip on your hand tightens ever so slightly.
"W-what is wrong with you!?" You exclaim in embarassment, also turning to look away. With your free hand, you cover the lower half of your face. You didn’t want him to know you were blushing.
"Nothin' just really happy," he replies, his voice a bit muffled by his arm. "It's just better than I expected," he mumbles so quietly that you almost missed it.
If only you had turned around to look at him. You wouldn’t have missed the bright blush that covered his neck.
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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
✧.* CHAPTER 55 || The Filth
[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ just... just filthy smut okay.
[ { A/N } ] ➤ Another chapter written as I was in heat btw. ;)
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 6.7k
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
——AND ALTHOUGH CHOSO’S PERFECT for you, after about a week of dating, you’re ninety-nine percent sure he-, your boyfriend has a damn switch inside him. Something in him would just shift into this man whose mouth became so damn filthy with you.
Was it bad that you enjoyed it too? You think it was something about it being unexpected as to why your cunt was dripping like crazy as Choso’s cock slid down your throat.
He wasn’t mean to you during the day or anything. As stated before, Choso was perfect and as your boyfriend, he was even better than perfect somehow. He was such a gentleman, so kind and careful with you, attentive, understanding, and just a giant walking green flag.
Now, after seven days of dating the man, you have addressed his possessiveness and tendency to get jealous over the smallest things— which he promises to work on just for you. Choso would do anything for you so something as simple as changing the way he thinks or feels about certain things was nothing to him.
But, all that greatness aside, during sex he was different. And god damn you were not ready for it. You’d think after sleeping with Choso countless times before, things wouldn’t really change when you were dating but… something had changed, he had changed.
Hence why it’s suspected that there’s a literal switch in his head because something just flipped as you tried to surprise him with a little reward for being such a wonderful boyfriend. The night of your date, neither of you had sex so it’d been a while since you slept with him-, weeks since you slept with him.
Even so, you didn’t recall Choso’s mouth being this filthy with you? Nor do you remember him being so… in control. Usually, midway through sex Choso would let you have your way with him or things would go the other way around, either way, dominance was an off-and-on thing.
But tonight? Oh dominance was all the way on and you had nothing to prepare you for it. And Choso’s sex drive was through the roof for some reason too…
Anyway, you think it’s because of your little surprise. Maybe you should be more careful the next time you decide to wear lingerie for your boyfriend…
. . • ☆ . �� .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ . . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
But, as stated before, nothing could’ve prepared you for him. Hence why you stood in the bathroom of his apartment minutes before that all happened, checking yourself to make sure you looked good.
It was yet another Friday night and you’d been back and forth to Choso’s place these past few days. The semester had started up again but since it was the early weeks, school wasn’t too harsh yet, nothing but introductory assignments and small tasks here and there.
Even so, you stood looking in the mirror toying with the strap of your vibrant red shaded bra that lay beneath the baggy white shirt on your body— the shirt being Choso’s of course.
You did have on sweatpants but since you wanted to surprise him, you quickly rid yourself of those and you were going to reveal the lingerie set to your boyfriend by stripping yourself of his shirt in front of him. He’ll love this, you thought to yourself with a slight smile on your face.
Mhm, you had it all planned out. You were about to go into his room, not-so-innocently see what he’s doing, tease him a bit, and ultimately have sex with him for the first time since you started dating. In your head, you thought Choso would want to take it slow with you and make love with you so that’s kinda why you bought lingerie.
And even if he didn’t want to take things slow and lovingly, you wouldn’t complain if he tore you out of the pricey fabric and completely ruined you.
All those thoughts aside though, as you finally walked out of the bathroom, your feet lightly walking over the hallway floor whilst you sneakily made your way to his bedroom, you couldn’t wait to see the look on his face. Would he blush at the sight of you? Or would he shower you with compliments instantly?
You soon approach his room, the door wide open and the light seeping out into the hallway you walked through. In Choso’s head, you were supposed to be in his living room right now watching TV— that being the last thing you told him you were gonna do a few hours ago.
Your head popped around the corner of his door frame to get a peek into his room only to find Choso’s back to you as he sat at the art desk in his room. A smile spread across your face as you noticed a pencil in one hand and his other laid against a piece of paper.
Slowly, you slipped into his room as quietly as possible and crept up behind him. Once you stood directly behind the man, you took a peek over his shoulder and saw he was sketching some kinda design. After a second of admiring his progress, you raised your hands up and covered his eyes gently before moving to his ears.
“Guess who?” You whisper playfully.
Choso’s hand stops mid pencil-stroke and he smiles. The fact that he didn't even flinch or seem phased by your sudden presence made you think he heard you or something, “Guess who? Well, I’m hoping you’re my wonderful girlfriend…” He replies.
You keep your hands over his eyes, “Wronggg,” You tease.
He chuckles, “Wrong? Okay, thennn… my amazing girlfriend,” Choso corrects, to which you snicker, “Orrr, my beautiful girlfriend. Playful girlfriend? Or, y’know, maybe all of the above and the woman I love.”
Taking your hands off his eyes, you pull away from his ear and his head turns to you. You giggle, “That’s a lot of girlfriends you have…”
“Nono, that’s all my one and only girlfriend,” He says, playing into your joke.
You narrow your eyes tauntingly, “Yeah? She sounds like a handful.”
“Ehh,” Choso shrugs a little, “She’s my handful and I love her just the way she is.”
His words make your smile widen before you lean in and plant a small kiss on his lips. Choso reciprocates the action, grinning against you as he does so. After the small kiss, you pull away and glance down at what he was doing before you interrupted.
“What’s that for?” You ask curiously.
Choso follows your gaze down to his sketch and he sighs, “It’s for one of my classes,” He hums.
You blink, “How? The semester just started…”
“Well, this is due later on but I just wanted to get an idea or two out on paper,” He explains, “Did you need somethin’ though? If so, I can stop.”
You chuckle a little, “I just wanted to see what you were doing,” You tell him innocently as you stand up, “But, I do also have a little surprise for you…” Your words come out in a mischievous hum and you start to back away from where he’s seated.
Choso began to spin his chair around slowly, “Oh? What kinda surprise?”
His head turns before the rest of his body and you watch his eyes drop to your frame, scanning the way his shirt looks hanging off you so loosely. Choso can’t help but smirk when he finds that the white fabric of the top stops just at the start of your thighs— having not even paid attention to the obvious bright red beneath the shirt you wore.
He always gets distracted when you wear his shirt, always torn between wanting to cuddle you in it and wanting to fuck you in it. But, after his few seconds of studying you, your hands go to the bottom of the shirt and his eyes widen as you start lifting it up.
“I’m not sure if you’re into this kinda thing but,” You say casually as you pull his shirt up and off your body, revealing the red lingerie set you purchased just for him. “Well… Surprise,” You hum sweetly, tossing his shirt off to the side and looking at your boyfriend.
Choso blinks once. Then twice, then a third time. He’d yet to turn his chair to you fully, stopping about halfway so, his body was facing your right but his head was turned to you and his eyes were… his eyes were everywhere.
First, they dropped to your crotch and you could hear the way he swallowed, studying the vibrant fabric on your skin and how it looked on you. Then, Choso’s gaze lifted to your torso and he smiled for only a second— you wish you knew what he was thinking. Second to last, he looks at your tits, and fuck does that lingerie set make them look good.
Choso clears his throat and, ultimately, his eyes find their way back to your face after a long moment. When you meet his gaze, you see how lidded his eyes have become and no smile or words is coming from him yet so you wonder if he even likes it.
Oh, he liked it alright-, loved it even. It took one little glance at you and his cock was twitching like crazy. His hips shifted in his seat ever so slightly, the tip of his dick leaking pre in reaction to you. The effect you had on your poor boyfriend was insane.
Tilting your head, you swing your hands behind your back, “Cho? Do you-”
“Come here,” Choso says, his voice low.
Oh. A chill slipped down your spine with the way his words came out. His eyes were so intense on yours and you almost didn’t move.
Choso raises a brow when he notices you froze and he spins his chair around to face you. Leaning back and parting his legs, “Baby, I said come here,” He emphasizes as his gaze grows more serious and stern with you.
Your feet began to move and you brought your hands in front of you, slightly nervously playing with your fingers as you approached him. Then, you stopped just about one step away from him and Choso sighed.
“Closer,” He orders, spreading his thighs further apart so that you have enough space to stand in between them.
When did your body grow so hot? Or maybe that’s because of him… Seeing as your eyes dropped down to his crotch, you couldn't help but find it attractive the way he manspread right in front of you, gray sweatpants clung to his body so nicely-
Choso suddenly starts leaning to sit up and your eyes and body jump when his hand creeps toward you. He reaches to your hip, and your hip only, hooking a single finger beneath the strap of your panties and tugging you toward him. Your feet shuffle against his carpet floor and come to a stop when you stand in between his legs.
Your boyfriend unhooks his finger and his hand caresses your hip for a second before the touch slips off and he leans back again.
You swallow, “Well? Do… Do you like it-“
“Shut up,” Choso suddenly says, your lips zipping closed instantly. “Don’t say a word, princess. Just uh,” His hand raises to his face and he wipes his mouth before rubbing his jaw a bit, eyes down on your body again, “Just lemme’ process… this.”
You nod a little, still keeping quiet as he just studies you. You really wish you could read minds because you damn sure couldn’t read his facial expression. If only you knew about the things going on in that man’s head right now.
Choso never knew himself to have this much patience and self-control because he definitely had half a mind to toss you on his bed and fuck you long and hard enough to have this same expensive fabric covered in his cum. His mind was hazed with the idea of it, the idea of watching his cum slip down your body, against the lingerie, and maybe even out of you.
“Turn around,” Choso breathes out after a minute or two.
His words make you stiffen, “Wha-“
Choso looks up at your eyes, “Turn. Around.” He repeats, his voice low.
You swallow down your nerves and turn slowly, soon facing away from your boyfriend and having your back to him.
“Mh,” You hear Choso hum, then there’s a slight creak as he leans forward in his chair, “Now bend over.”
Your eyes go wide and you look over your shoulder and back to him, “What? Choso-“
“You heard me,” He claims, “I said bend over. Don’t make me say it again.”
You gulp and then release a long breath of air before facing forward again. Then, you tip your torso forward and bend over just as he’s asked you to.
Choso nods his head and his hand moves to tap the outer side of your thigh, “Good girl,” He praises, words going straight to your core, “Now spread your legs a bit so you’re not uncomfortable.”
No matter how you spread your legs, you were going to feel awkward bent over in front of him like this. “C-Choso-“
His hand goes to your ass and he suddenly slaps it, making you flinch and your eyes go wide. “What.” He says, sounding almost irritated.
You gulp, “Why… Why do you want me to-“
“Needed’ a closer look,” He cuts off, his hand rubbing over the same area of your ass he just slapped as if to soothe you. Then, his palm shifts, and his fingers trace against the outline of your panties, sliding down and down and down until he takes his hand off you.
There’s a moment of stillness and silence before Choso’s thumb makes contact with your clothed cunt, slipping against the fabric of your panties and in between your folds— the contact makes your lips part and a breathy sum of air leaves you.
“Cho,” You whisper, to which he smirks.
“Hm?” Choso hums, feeling your cunt twitch beneath the fabric in between his finger and you.
You swallow, “You never uh… You never said if you liked it or not,” You point out shyly.
He nods even though you can’t see him, halfway processing your words as the slick sound of his thumb sliding against your cunt distracts him.
“Damn baby, the fuck did you get so wet from?” Choso asks, voice deeper and lower with you. He feels how your pussy squirms against his thumb and he smirks, “Ohhh, me? You got this wet from me, princess?” He asks.
Though, it didn’t sound like he was talking to you?
Choso’s thumb rolls a circle over your sex and you start to bring your legs close together again, to which he scoffs and moves his free hand to one of your thighs, prohibiting you from moving anymore. His thumb then hooks over and onto the fabric of your panties and he pulls at them, a slip of air brushing over your wet cunt for a moment before he releases the fabric and allows it to slap over you.
He then takes both of his hands and places them on your thighs before pulling you back a bit more and leaning his face forward. You start to turn your head back as best you could but all movement comes to a halt when his lips press into you.
Then… Then it’s his tongue. Choso’s pierced tongue slides in between your folds and he licks a stripe against you and your panties, not even bothering to move them aside just yet.
You inhale sharply, “Choso-,”
His lips cup your cunt and he hums against you, fingers gripping onto your outer thighs as he does so. “You put this on f’me?” Choso mumbles into you slowly.
“Uhuh,” You breathe out.
He pulls his head away from your sex and licks what little of your taste he got off his lips. Choso smirks and then pries his hands off your body, leaning back into his seat and rolling his hips up to comfort himself.
“Turn to me,” He requests, moving a single hand over his crotch and palming his erection. He was struggling so hard to control himself.
How was he supposed to react to this? His pretty girlfriend coming to him in a lingerie set to surprise him? Fuck, the thought alone made his cock ache. Choso swore he was about to moan when he first laid eyes on you.
And here you are now, turning to face him again with that innocent little look on your face. You had no idea what you were doing to him, did you? How crazy you drove him? Choso found it cute that you were clueless as to what he had planned for you tonight.
He didn’t even have to say anything and you were already getting down on your knees, leaning toward him and replacing his hand with yours to palm his cock through his sweats. Your eyes went wide at how painfully hard he was. It seems you got your answer as to whether or not he liked it…
Choso sighs heavily as his eyes settle on your dainty hand running over his dick print, feeling the way your fingers rubbed over him and needing to suck his lower lip into his mouth to conceal a groan.
“Baby,” Choso mutters, his breathing grown heavy already, “Are you gonna’ tease me all night or are you gonna suck me off?”
You smirk at his impatience and tilt your head as you lift your gaze up to his face, “Someone’s bossy tonight…”
He scoffs, “Shut up, you like it.”
You roll your eyes at him and slip your hand up to his waistband, tauntingly running your fingers beneath it and feeling against his tense skin, “I dunno Cho… This isn’t like you.” You hum.
Choso stares down at you, “Well how else am I supposed to react to my girlfriend wearing lingerie for me?” He replies sassily, “You look so fuckin’ pretty in it ‘nd jus’ lookin’ at you got me so damn hard.”
You start tugging his sweats down and he lifts his hips to assist you, watching with hooded eyes as your hands move agonizingly slow toward his briefs.
Choso couldn’t take it anymore. As pretty as you looked on your knees and moving so teasingly for him, he quite literally couldn’t take it— quickly reaching his hands down and tugging his cock out with a heavy sigh leaving him.
You blink as you gather the sight of his dick in front of you— so big and veiny, leaky tip just begging for your attention. You couldn’t help but watch in a daze as Choso wrapped his fingers around his shaft and gave himself a few strokes, his low-lidded eyes locked onto the sight of you watching him.
He groans out your name and your cunt flutters around nothing at the sound. Choso’s voice had to have dropped at least two octaves because it was so damn low and deep with you all of a sudden, heavy with arousal and need for you.
You flick your eyes up to his face and jump at the sight of his gaze on you already. He looked so intimidating.
Then, Choso moves his free hand to the top of your head and urges your face closer to his cock, nodding his chin down to your mouth, “Open.” He orders.
You were left wanting to tease him about his neediness and wanting to obey his every command at the same time. Ultimately, your mouth opens for the man and you keep your eyes on his.
Choso heaves out a pant and parts his thighs all the more further before angling his cock into your mouth. The second his flushed and dripping tip slips over your tongue, you go to lick him and wrap your lips around his member— an instant and guttural groan leaving his throat.
His hand leaves his shaft and yours quickly replaces it as you focus your mouth on his tip. You slick your tongue through the slit of his cock and Choso’s brows tense in satisfaction, “Mmgh… hah, fuck.” He breathes, tipping his head back against his chair.
You tilt your hand and start sucking on only the tip of his cock, the rest heavy and twitching in your hand as you start to pump his length. He bucks up into your touch a little and scoffs.
“Princess,” Choso calls out lowly, “Your throat, take my cock down your throat,” He directs.
And, naturally, you listen to him and start to take him into your mouth. A lustful smile spreads across his face as he feels himself enter the warmth and wetness of your mouth, hissing at the way your tongue slicks over the underside of his cock.
You felt him twitch in your mouth and you swore he was getting impossibly harder, veins pulsing against your tongue as you sucked on him carefully.
Your head bobs up and down a few times before the sound of Choso’s voice makes you moan around him, “Deeper, princess, deeper.” He instructs again, to which you take more of his inches into your mouth and hum around him, “Yeahhhh, fuck, that’s it.” Choso moans.
You pull off him slowly for barely even a second, only to bring your mouth right back down and suck him off eagerly.
The sound of his slight pants was causing you to pool in your panties as you bobbed your head up and down and took him in and out of your mouth. Normally, Choso wasn’t much of a talker when you gave him head— he’d usually just groan and moan.
But tonight? Oh tonight was much different. This is exactly why you moan again when he whines a little as he speaks, “Uhuh, suck my cock jus’ like that baby…” Choso urges.
You start to lift your head again but his hand suddenly shifts into your hair and pushes you right back down, “C’mon, go all the way down, princess,” He utters, “Show me how you use that tongue-,” He’s cut off when you suck him in deeper and your tongue gets dangerously close to his base, “Mhm, y-yeahh… there you go…”
There’s been numerous times you’ve sucked Choso off and yet, you still struggled to take him all the way in sometimes. Just barely would his tip knock into the back of your throat here and there but in the end, his cock was just so much bigger than your mouth.
And there he was, sitting with a hand over your head and his fingers curling into your hair as he started to guide you through it. Up and down, Choso watched in a daze as your mouth sucked on his cock, head bobbing so cutely below him.
His shaft was covered in a messy mix of your saliva and his precum, your movements steadily growing sloppier in a way you knew he liked.
Choso grits his teeth when you suddenly dip all the way down, your nose making light contact with his pelvis and his dick pressing into the back of your throat as you relax it just to take him all the way in.
“Hahh… S-So fuckin’ tight, shit…” He groans, “All this f’me?” Choso asks, his hand carefully pulling you up only a little just to force your mouth right back down, “Wearin’ lingerie, suckin’ my dick like… like a fuckin’ slut, for what?”
Your eyes flickered back and you whimpered out a moan against his cock in reaction to him suddenly degrading you. He’s never done that before— Choso’s never called you anything like that but god damn it made you so stupidly horny.
“Hm?” Choso hums as he lifts your head up and allows you a chance to breathe, “What’s all this for, huh?”
You clear your throat and then swallow, licking your lips as you make eye contact with him, “F-For bein’ such a good boyfriend.”
The corner of Choso’s lips quirk into a slight smirk, “Yeah? This is what I get for bein’ good to you?”
You nod, “Mhm…”
“So, I treat you like you should be treated and in return,” Choso tilts his head and flashes that slight but sexy lazy smile of his, “My girlfriend turns into a lil’ slut f’me?”
He sees on your face how flustered his question got you and the way you’re looking up at him was driving him insane— Choso swore he was seconds away from releasing all over your expression.
He moves a hand to his cock and shifts to tap your lips with his tip, “Hm? Answer me, baby.” Choso requests.
You nod, “Y-Yeah.”
“Yeah? So if that’s the case then,” He smirks again, “I can treat you like one, right?”
“Uhuh,” You nod again, more eagerly this time.
You were so cute. Choso removes his hand from your head and suddenly stands to his feet, causing you to shuffle back on your knees a bit so there’s room.
“Y’know,” Choso grunts a bit as he starts fisting his cock in quick pulls, “I didn’t realize you liked bein’ degraded this much, princess.”
You swallow, “I like it when you degrade me.”
Choso bites his lower lip, “Oh yeah?”
Your thighs draw together in a slight attempt at giving yourself some kind of relief, “Mhm..”
He tilts his head and his strokes grow faster and rougher, “Alright then, open your mouth f’me again ‘nd jus’ sit there lookin’ pretty while I fuck your throat,” Choso breathes out.
Your jaw is quick to drop for him and you lean closer, lips parted for the man as you keep your eyes up on his. One of his hands goes to the top of your head and the other maneuvers his length into your mouth, quickly and roughly thrusting his hips forward and making you gag around him.
“Mmgh-,” He hums deeply, the vibration of you gagging around him so suddenly making his body twitch, “Fuck that felt good… hah, you’re gonna’ make me cum…”
With only one hand atop your head, Choso starts to fuck his cock into your mouth. You just sit there and let him use you like a pretty cocksleeve, moaning and gagging each time he pushes in a bit deeper than you could handle. At some point, he slows for a second and the hand on your head forces you to move.
Back and forth and back and forth, Choso has you gulping and sucking on his cock so messily. Saliva began to escape from the corners of your lips and sloppy wet sounds filled his room along with his groans.
“Faster baby, c’mon…” He urges.
You try your best to suck him off in quicker pulls, tongue rolling and lulling all over his dick and even tracing against his veins.
Choso whines a little, “Yeahh… keep goin’, fuuuck…” He starts panting again and he grunts, “Fuckin’ slut-,” He chokes out, “Makin’ me feel so good…”
“Mmh,” You hum against him as your eyes grow teary.
“Yeah? My slutty girlfriend, fuck. Baby,” He moans lightly, “I’m gonna fuck you so hard after this.”
You choke around his cock, realizing he plans on going at it all night.
Choso’s member twitches inside your mouth and you can tell he’s close as his voice starts to pitch, “Pretty pussy deserves some attention too, doesn’t she?” He asks you in a husk tone, “Not jus’ your mouth… Gotta’ fuck your cunt too, feel her’ squeeze ‘round me for hours… hahhh, ahh… m’gonna cum jus’ thinkin’ about it-,” His words die out as a pornographic moan leaves his lips.
You’re dizzy and cockdrunk at this point and Choso’s back to just thrusting and thrusting into you, getting fucked out by the messy feeling of your throat and the sounds of your choking and gagging.
“M’gonna cum,” Choso whimpers, “Y-You’re so fuckin’ loud ‘nd messy baby, makin’ me cum so quickly like this…”
Quickly? Just how long was he planning to use your throat like this?
With another groan, Choso pulls out of your mouth and jerks himself off quickly enough to drive him over the edge— the slick and sloppy sounds of his movements filling your ears just moments before he releases all over your face and the upper half of your torso. Ultimately, his cum lands all over you and especially on the lingerie just like he wanted.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ . . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
And as he said, moments later he had you on his bed sobbing and moaning into his sheets— panties pulled to the side as he fucked you down into the mattress.
With a hand on your head and the other forcing your back to arch further for him, Choso was pounding his heavy cock into you like there was no tomorrow. You were so wet when this started that he didn’t need to prep you for anything and every inch of him slid into you perfectly.
“Fuckin’ pussy was made to take my cock,” Choso groaned out to you, “Right baby? That’s all you’re meant to do right? Jus’ take cock for hours ‘nd hours ‘nd never get tired?”
His words were driving you insane, cunt gushing and fluttering around his cum covered member. You came so much already and your legs were quivering below the man.
Nodding dumbly into the sheets, you couldn’t even think straight more, “Yeahhh…ah-, fuck… Choso-, ha-ahh…” You moaned, fingers curling into his bed sheets as if to brace yourself.
The hand on your back slid down your arch and against your spine until he got to your ass and smacked it, grunting at the sound and the sight of his hand having left a mark on your skin. The rest of your body was decorated in hickeys, bite marks, his cum— everything. The man had you ruined as someone else once had you before.
The two of you had been in almost every position by now, and in each one Choso was so mean and aggressive with you. He was so deep inside you, burying his cock to the hilt of your cunt as you whined and whimpered.
From you’re takin’ me so well baby to such a good slut f’me, keep ridin’ me jus’ like that—don’t fuckin’ stop, Choso’s mouth was just on a roll with you today. One moment it’s praise and the next he’s telling you how his cum makes you look ten times better and that sluts like you needa’ be covered in it.
Sometimes he was just babbling and other times he was fully serious with what he said, especially when he was able to groan his words into your ear. Choso told you how you were his slut, his good girl, and that only he gets to fuck you to this point.
That point being where you’re trying to reach a hand back and push him away or get him to slow down as his pelvis crashes into your ass and his balls smack against your puffy clit over and over again. You were so out of it but he didn’t care.
That bra of yours that you wore for him was gone, somewhere in his room decorated in his cum and even broken. Your panties were all you had on and Choso’s fingers hooked around them to keep them pulled to the side to rut into you properly.
He stared at the fabric and how it looked straining against your skin due to his tugs, the item sure to leave even more marks on your body.
Choso himself wasn't even spared from the marks. His back had been clawed earlier when the two of you were in missionary and his shoulders and arms had more scratches from when he forced you to bounce on his cock. He had a hickey or two but you didn’t really get much time to leave them on him since he was far too in control.
In one night, you experienced so much with this man— from him choking you while his hips snapped into you, to his fingers shoved deep into your mouth as he told you to shut up and take his cock, and even to him biting your shoulder while forcing your hips back on him.
Choso loved you, yes. But he also loved fucking you like a man who hadn’t had sex for months— which was true, he hadn’t had sex since Christmas so, it was almost another two months he went without you.
He fucked you at such an animalistic pace too, just pounding and pounding into you for hours. All this over some lingerie… You could only imagine how he’d be under different circumstances— how feral the man would become.
Choso was so addicted to the way your body felt against his and you even learned something new about him— he apparently has a thing for your thighs.
At some point into the night, after squirting all over his cock at least five times in a row and nearly passing out on him, you were obviously tired but he wanted to keep going. Each time his dick went down, he’d simply look at you and that damn red fabric hugging your skin and he’d spring right back up.
But, in courtesy of your lack of stamina, Choso decided to do something different to get off. He wrapped an arm around your legs as you laid on your back and he lifted them up, pressing them to his chest before sliding his cock in between your thighs. You were pretty dazed but you watched him use your legs to get off.
The way the tip of his cock was just dripping in cum and getting all over your legs was utterly sinful. Tiredly, you lifted your gaze to his face and saw heavy pants and cute whines leaving his wet parted lips. His face was red, his eyes were so low, and his hair was loose and completely disheveled. Choso was beyond drunk off of you and fucked out.
“Hahhhh…” Choso breathed, slowly making eye contact with you as he shallowly thrust his dick in between your legs, “Fuck-, thank you for this baby…” He murmurs.
Your voice is so soft that it sounded as though you may have lost it, “F-For what?”
Choso tips his head back and he moans, “This… Lettin’ me use you like this. Shit-, you’re so perfect. Such a pretty and perfect girlfriend I have,” He babbles out to you, “Love’ you s’much, princess.”
You chuckle wearily, “Uhuh, love you too, Cho…”
“We should probably shower after this, yeah?” He offers, smiling a bit before rolling his head back into place and raising a brow at you.
Your eyes were down on the way his cock looked rutting in and out of your inner thighs that were smushed together, watching how he starts to cum for the nth time of the night. It was so sloppy but spurts of his warm release covered your torso and your legs all over again— leaving you in such a lewd state.
“…Cho,” You whispered, “You c-came s’much…”
He nods and flashes a drained little smile, “Yeahh, I know… M’sorry baby, I saw that pretty set of yours ‘nd wanted to empty my balls onto it…” Choso hums innocently.
You roll your eyes, “I’ll be more careful next time I decide to do this…” You tell him.
Choso chuckles at you before shifting your legs so that he can lower himself down to your body, moving to kiss your jawline once he’s close enough, “Next time m’not lettin’ you get any sleep.”
You scoff and glance over to his nearby clock, “Choso it’s three in the morning.”
“Mhm, I know,” He hums against your skin, smirking a bit.
“You’re crazy,” You sigh out in response.
Choso sucks on the area below your jaw softly before running his teeth over it, “Crazy for you, yeah,” He laughs, “You wore lingerie f’me and told me you’re my lil’ slut, how am I supposed to react?”
You shrug sheepishly, “I dunno-, and wait, I told you what?”
He smiles, “You really are out of it aren’t you baby?”
Choso moves to hover his face over yours and you blink as the two of you make eye contact. “I called myself your slut?” You ask curiously.
“Yeah,” He smirks, “And even though you kept whinin’ about me goin’ too fast, you kept pulling me closer and creamin’ around my cock like you didn’t want me to stop-“
“Choso,” You cut off.
His smirk widens, “What?”
“Enough with the dirty talk, please.” Your request comes out gentle since his words were flustering you.
He tilts his head to the side, ruffled hair swaying as he does so, “Why? You’ gettin’ worked up again? I can go another round, especially if we’re going to the bathroom. I could fuck you against the shower wall, oh, orrr in the tub-“
“No Choso, m’tired.” You say sternly.
He pouts, “Jus’ the tip, princess?”
“Absolutely not,” You huff.
Choso starts laughing and then he leans down and plants one little peck on your lips, nodding and accepting his defeat in convincing you. “Alright, yes ma’am.” He hums lightly before moving to get off you.
You just lay there for a while as Choso moves around. Before you even realized it, your eyes were shutting and you were falling asleep.
By the time Choso returns his attention to you, having gone to straighten up the mess of disregarded clothes on the floor, he coos at the way you look resting so peacefully despite the filthy mess he’d made of you.
He obviously wasn’t going to leave you like that so, Choso did his thing as your boyfriend and moved to lift you, quickly taking you to his bathroom and carefully cleaning you of his remnants. He really did cover you in his cum— it was all over you and he couldn’t help but chuckle as he cleaned you off.
After bathing you clean, he carried you out to his living room couch so that he could finish cleaning his room and the two of you could sleep there peacefully.
Choso hurried to do so, changing the messy bed sheets and pillows and tossing the soiled ones into the wash in a hurry so that he could bring you into the bed as quickly as possible. The last thing he wanted was for you to wake up on the couch and have a repeat of what happened that one time when you thought he left you.
Hell, even then he was worried like crazy— nearly locking himself out of your apartment. Luckily though, because he was running out quickly that night, all he’d done was borrow the set of apartment keys you had lying on your kitchen counter.
He returned them when he came back and he’s kinda glad you never asked about it because, at the time, he did have thoughts of doing other things with those keys… Not that he ever acted on them though, they were just thoughts.
All that aside, once Choso was done, he hurried back out to you, lifted you from his couch, and transported your resting frame to his bed. He only put one of his spare shirts on you so that you were somewhat decent and on himself was nothing more than some sweats.
After getting you into bed, Choso got in behind you and wrapped an arm around your waist, planting a little kiss on the side of your neck and whispering a soft I love you to you despite you resting.
Then, the arm around your waist gripped onto you a bit tighter and Choso shut his eyes, hugging you in a way that said he’d never let go, no matter what you did— you were his now, and he was yours.
Nothing and no one would change that.
Any issue ever brought up in the future, he’d work through with you. Anything about him you don’t like, he’d change. There wasn’t anything Choso wouldn’t do to keep you happy with him.
All his. Finally, you were all his.
GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢
KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???
NANAMI KENTO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙
mlist || previous chapt || next chpt
tags;
@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx
#the f*ck list#the fuck list#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo x reader#choso x reader#toji x reader#nanami x reader#sukuna x reader#naoya x reader#geto x reader#gojo satoru x reader#geto suguru x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader#nanami kento x reader#choso kamo x reader#smut fic#jjk smut#gojo smut#geto smut#choso smut#toji smut
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Beg For It
Pairing: Virgin!Din Djarin x afab!reader
Word count: 3.9k
Tags/warnings: piv sex, oral (m), cock worship, virgin din, premature ejaculation, teasing, humiliation, sub din, dom reader, degradation, cockpit sex™, embarrassment, age gap (younger reader), din djarin's monster cock, helmet stays on, pet names, snarky reader, experienced reader, stuff I'm forgetting (c'mon guys, it's me.)
Summary: You make a shocking discovery about Din and decide to do something about it.
A/N: Hey babes! Sorry if you're waiting on TTF or FB rn, but my brain does not want to cooperate atm. TTF 4 should be out relatively soon, but I'm not sure about FB. I hope you like this fic, bc I have no idea where it came from 🤣 My asks are always open in the meantime!!
***
“Fuck, it’s tight in here,” you complain as you stuff yourself into the small alcove exposed by the panel that was just removed from the Crest’s wall.
“And a fucking mess. Do you ever organize this shit, Din?”
The exasperated sigh that comes from behind you is enough to answer your question.
You roll your eyes as you reach for the tangled ball of wires in front of you. No wonder the lights have been flickering. You’re lucky it wasn’t anything worse than that.
“Who would even be doing this shit if you didn’t have me? Not like your broad ass could fit in here.”
Mando scoffs behind you.
“We got along perfectly fine before you,” he argues. “Grogu could fit in there, I’d have him do it.”
Now it’s your turn to laugh.
“Yeah, that would go over well.”
Din ignores your quip as he comes up to your side and nudges you with his boot.
“Hey! Can you not?” You turn your head to bite out at him even though he can’t see you.
“Scootch over,” he demands. “I need to see what you’re doing so you don’t blow the ship up or something.”
“Wow, it’s really reassuring to know how much faith you have in me, Mando.”
You swear you hear him bite down on a laugh and you smile despite yourself. You squash yourself to the side as much as you can, allowing a small gap so Din can peek in beside you. He groans as he lowers himself to his belly.
“Poor old man,” you can’t help but tease. “Bad knees getting to you?”
“Shut up,” Din quips.
You don’t actually know how old Din is, but you’re placing your bets on late thirties or early forties. Definitely older than you either way, but not quite old enough to be deserving of your quips. That’s not going to stop you, of course.
By the time he’s looking inside, you’ve untangled the mess of wires and separated the two that need to be switched.
“Damn it, Mando, you’re blocking my light. I can’t see shit.”
He sighs for the umpteenth time today.
“Really? There’s plenty of light,” he argues.
“Yeah, maybe when you have a fucking night vision mod in your helmet. Get up and tell me what to do from there.”
He obeys but you swear you hear him mutter something about being bossy through a groan.
“What have you done so far?”
“I’ve separated the red and blue wires from the rest.”
“Okay, go ahead and pull them both from their outlets.”
You try to pull them off, but you can’t quite reach the outlets on the back wall.
“Damn it,” you mutter.
You shove your knees under yourself and arch your back in attempt to push yourself further into the wall. Straining a bit, you’re able to grasp both ends and successfully tug them towards yourself.
“Got it, what now?”
“Put the red wire where the blue wire was, and the blue where the red was,” Mando instructs. His voice sounds much raspier than it had a second ago, making you quirk a brow.
“You okay there?” you ask as you finish the task.
“Yup,” he croaks.
“Okay, I’m coming out.”
You start to wriggle yourself back, and you hear Din make a strangled sound before biting down on it. It’s not until you feel your ass waggling with your movement that you realize what has him so worked up. A sly smirk quickly spreads across your face as you decide there’s no harm in teasing him a bit.
You groan and arch your back further as you back out, your ass up in the air as much as you can get it. You take your sweet time sitting up once you're out, and you can almost feel the heat coming from Mando by the time you do. You turn around to face him only to find that he’s avoiding your gaze, his hands clasped together casually in front of his crotch. You honestly wonder who he thinks he’s fooling—there’s not much that could hide a tent that size.
“What’s the matter, big boy?” you ask sweetly. “You look a bit flustered.”
“N-nothing.”
You have to physically bite down on your lip to avoid laughing at his voice crack. You’ve never heard him struggle so much. He clears his throat and tries again.
“Nothing’s wrong, cyar’ika.”
“Hm. You sure? Because I’m pretty sure you were checking my ass out a second ago.”
Din chokes on nothing as soon as the words are out of your mouth.
“I was not!” He bites out in a panicked tone.
“Nothing wrong with it, I get it. I’d check out my ass, too,” you laugh and shrug. He looks down at his feet and your brows furrow. This might be the most flustered you’ve ever seen him.
“Dude, it was just an ass, not a big deal. I’m sure you’ve seen much more than that,” you chuckle lightly.
He slowly looks up at that, and time comes to a stop as things click into place in your head.
“Holy shit,” you say, bewildered. “You haven’t seen more than that. You’re a virgin aren’t you?”
You grin when he says nothing in response. No fucking way the Mandalorian hasn’t fucked or been fucked before. Hell, you’ve wanted to fuck him since you came aboard this junk pile of a ship. Damn, you’re going to take this opportunity and fucking run with it.
“Poor baby Din, never had pussy before,” you coo at him as you stand all the way up. “What’s the matter? Is it too small? Maybe you don’t even like pussy. You want a big strong man to fuck your ass?” You know you’re just spouting anything you think might get under his skin at this point.
“N-no,” he bites out, though there’s not much conviction behind it. You continue walking towards him, forcing him toward the cockpit’s pilot seat.
“No? You don’t like cock, Din?”
“I think you need some help, big guy. You clearly need someone to dominate you, since you don’t have the balls to step up yourself. You’re lucky I’m here, I can show you how good it can be.”
Din’s hands move closer to his clothed cock to hide the twitch that ensues from your words. You see the movement and it only spurs you on. He gulps again as you keep walking toward him.
“No, I-”
“Take a seat, Mando.”
He crosses his arms and stands up straighter, leveling you with a defiant stare you can practically feel through his beskar helmet.
“I will do no such thing.”
“Oh,” you reply, crossing your arms and returning the look. “But you will.”
You glance down at the impressive bulge in his flight suit, smirking when you catch him shift ever so slightly under the weight of your gaze.
“I think you want to sit down for me, Mando. And I think you’re going to be begging for my cunt by the time I’m done with you.”
You take a step toward him, and you can see the subtle way he stops himself from taking a step back in response. You stop in front of him and let your hand down to graze his covered length. There’s a sharp intake of breath barely heard throughout the hull. If you had been standing where you were a few seconds ago, you would have missed it.
“Sounds like you already want to, actually.”
You cup him fully now, and a strangled sound slips through his tightly sealed lips.
“Poor little virgin Din, doesn’t even know how good he could have been feeling all this time,” you tease, giving him a light squeeze.
“S-stop,” he grits out, uncrossing his arms to grab your wrist with one hand. Your movements come to a swift stop.
“Ask me again, and I will,” you tell him. “But I don’t think you really want that, do you? I think you want to stick your dick inside my warm pussy and come your dumb little brains out.”
There’s a brief silence as you stare each other down, and you can almost feel the way he starts to consider his options.
“I-”
You give him another squeeze, tighter this time, and his hips buck forward as another animalistic sound tumbles from his tongue.
“Fuck, please,” Din whines as he gives up trying to hold back. You grin wildly at the sound.
“Please, what, Din? What do you want?”
“P-please fuck me!”
Your hand flattens against him and starts to rub sensually up and down, giving him enough friction to have him shivering with each pass.
“Okay, baby. Sit down like I told you to, and I’ll take care of you.”
He nods as you start to lead him backwards, the back of his knees hitting the cockpit chair and forcing him to follow your instructions.
“What a good boy,” you lean forward to coo at the side of his helmet, right where his ear would be. “Why don’t you take your cock out for me?”
You push yourself away from him, your hands placed on either arm rest as you lean over him. Din hesitates for a moment, clearly not used to the kind of vulnerability you’re asking him to surrender.
“Go ahead, baby. I promise I won’t make fun.” In fact, you know you won’t. Judging by the massive tent in his pants, there is absolutely no way that Din Djarin is anywhere near small. Not that you’ll tell him that, of course.
You stare intently as he gulps and lets his hands trail down to unbuckle his belt and shakily pull his zipper down, revealing his boxers. He waits a beat before pulling himself completely out, and you have to fight to keep your jaw from dropping when he does.
“Holy shit, Djarin,” you gawk. “Well, your dick definitely wasn’t the problem. Scared some people off if anything.” Honestly, it almost scares you. You don’t think your hand could even fully wrap around it if you grabbed it right now.
You look back to his helmet, making what you hope is eye contact. Judging by the way he shifts in the seat, you’re pretty sure you’re spot-on.
“You’re so pretty, Din. It’s a shame nobody’s ever told you.”
“T-thank you,” he breathes, his head turning slightly.
“I want you to put your hands on the armrests while I show you how pretty I think you are.”
He hesitates, obviously still not sure about any of this.
“Go ahead,” you prompt. “Unless you want me to cuff you to the damn chair.”
At this, he quickly obeys your request and lets his hands go to grip the rests. His cock slaps up, hard and leaking against his covered stomach. He twists his neck all the way to the side, avoiding eye contact as much as he can manage. As much as he’s resisting giving in, you can see how his chest heaves with desire. In this case, the lust is simply stronger than the embarrassment.
You quickly bring a hand up to grab at the bottom of his helmet, roughly jerking his head back to look at you.
“You’re going to watch me while I suck your cock. If I see you look away, you’re not going to like what happens after.”
Din shivers and nods, shaken slightly by your authoritative tone.
“Say ‘yes, ma’am’.”
You watch his throat bob as he gulps down his nervousness.
“Yes, ma’am,” he breathes out.
“See, you can be such a good boy when you put your mind to it.”
You slink down to your knees and place your hands on his thick, tense thighs. With your eyes level with his cock, you’re able to watch the way a spurt of precum dribbles down from the tip.
“Look at that, baby. Little dick is drooling already and I haven’t even touched you.”
Din tenses and clenches his hand but makes a point not to look away. Good, at least you know he’s listening. Who knew how easy it is to tame a Mandalorian? A little humiliation and degradation can go a long way.
You lean forward, grabbing hard onto his thighs in reminder to keep his hands where they are as you stick your tongue out to scoop up the precum leaking down his shaft. His hips jut forward, and you swear you hear a quiet whine from his helmet. You can’t help but chuckle lightly.
You decide not to waste your time with little licks, and instead lean forward to take his entire tip into your mouth. Now you definitely hear a whine. You struggle to shove more of him into your mouth and down your throat, his girth making it much more of a task than it needs to be.
You can feel yourself getting wetter just from the thought of how deliciously he would stretch you out in other places. It really is a damn shame he’s kept this absolute monster tucked away for so long.
His fingers twitch at the same time his head slams back into the headrest, though he keeps it angled down so he can keep watching you. You have to swallow a few times to work him all the way down, and by that time you can almost feel the way he’s tightened up to restrain himself.
You take pity on him and pull back, resisting the urge to gag as his weight drags across your throat again. A string of spit connects you to his shiny cock as you smirk up at him.
“Tell me how it feels, sweet boy.”
“F-feels s-so good, c-cyare,” Din squeaks.
“Yeah, you want more?”
He nods furiously and you immediately flick the tip of his swollen cock, earning you a strangled yelp as his hips buck wildly.
“What’s the matter? Finally got your dick wet and suddenly you forget how to speak?”
He begins to shake his head before catching himself and giving you a verbal response.
“N-no–I mean, yes, yes I want more! Please touch me,” he thrusts his hips forward again, though you're not sure if it’s voluntary or not.
“Alright, since you asked so nicely.”
You quickly grasp him and start to pump him furiously, leaning to him again to drool on his tip. The extra lubricant makes your hand glide more smoothly, your pace picking up to the point where you can see his balls drawing up.
You work your mouth in tandem with your fist, worshiping his throbbing cock with open mouthed kisses and gentle nips on the exposed skin. You close your eyes for a second to savor the way he feels between your lips, and the salty flavor that graces your tongue. If you died with Din Djarin’s dick in your mouth, you would die a happy woman.
“C-cyare, I-”
He cuts himself off as you quickly pull yourself away, leaving him with nothing but your cooling spit to focus on.
“No, no, no–ung–I, p-please!”
You laugh at him as he thrusts up, trying to find some kind of friction. His voice sounds wet, almost like there are tears in his eyes.
“Aww,” you stand back to admire his writhing body. “Poor thing can’t remember anything but ‘please’. That’s cute. Not hard to get you dumb, is it, Mando?”
You start to strip in front of him, and his hands come up from the armrests.
“You better not be moving your fucking hands, Din,” you warn. “I know where you keep those damn binders, don’t think I won’t use them.”
He groans but lets his wrists back down. His feet shift instead since there’s nothing else he’s able to move at the moment. He whines again as your top comes off with your bra, and then your pants with your panties.
Fully naked and obviously soaked, you stalk toward him yet again, stopping to place your hand on his shoulder as you climb into his lap, careful not to touch his cock just yet. You settle your thighs over the tops of his and spread your legs.
When you look up at him, he’s staring you back in your eyes, refusing to look down. You smirk once you realize why.
“Don’t get shy on me now, baby boy,” you say. “Go ahead and look at my pussy, I know you want to.”
You watch him slowly lower his gaze and breathe out a curse once it lands on your seam. Leaning forward, you whisper again to the side of his helmet.
“You can move a hand, Din. Spread me open.”
He visibly trembles at your command but lifts an arm none-the-less. You feel his fingers trail gently down to where you want him, but he stops just short.
“T-take my glove off, please. Want to feel you, cyar’ika.”
You smile at him and carefully bring his hand up to pull his glove off, his dick twitching as you do so. You lick your lips as a tanned and scarred hand is revealed. It’s ridiculous how attracted you are to that simple appendage. You wish you could see his entire body, but you know that’s not a likely scenario.
Once his glove is discarded on the floor, he moves back to your cunt and sucks in a harsh breath as he feels you.
“You’re s-so wet,” he says in a way that makes you unsure if he meant to say it out loud or not.
You laugh quietly and guide his hand so that he can prod at your hole, to which he chokes.
“That’s all because of you, sweet boy.”
You move your hips forward, and his fingers slip through your seam, your slick collecting on the rough pads. You grasp his wrist to bring his hand to your lips, opening your mouth to suck your tang of the digits at the same time as you let your pussy push against the underside of Din’s cock.
Another animalistic noise accompanies the way his entire body jolts at the sudden contact. With a pop, you pull his fingers from your mouth to make room for the giggle that bubbles up from your throat.
“Poor baby’s so sensitive!” you exclaim as you grind against him, making him groan with each pass. Both of his hands grip down hard, one on the rest and the other on your thigh. The man has a fucking grip, you’re sure there will be five little bruises littered across your skin tomorrow. You wonder how good that grip would feel on your hips as he drills himself into you from the back, and file that thought back for another day.
You shudder as his tip bumps up against your clit, sending little shocks up your spine and making you dizzy.
“Gonna fuck you now, baby boy,” you breathe. “You want that? Want to stick your cock inside me?”
“I-ungh-yes, yes!”
“Yeah?” you ask as you keep up your movements. “Beg for it.”
“P-please,” Din asks a bit too quietly for your liking. You would bet all the credits you won that he’s blushing under that armor right now.
“Oh, come on now, you can do better than that.”
There’s a short moment where you think Din isn’t going to do it, and a lump of disappointment gets stuck in your throat. Luckily, he doesn’t make you sit with it for too long.
“Please, please put my d-dick in your pussy, want to feel you, please! I-I can’t–I want–”
In the middle of his babbling, you lift yourself up and line his cock with your entrance, slowly lowering yourself down. His hands fly to your hips at the same time his thoughts fly from his brain, unable to think of anything but the way your tight pussy is parting to welcome his fat tip.
He’s never felt anything quite this pleasurable before, the sensation nearly blinding him as you work yourself down onto him.
Your head tilts back as Din holds onto your hips for dear life. The combination of that pressure along with the burn from his cock stretching you out is almost too much. You can feel a heat bubbling at the base of your spine, and he’s not even all the way inside of you yet.
“Oh, god, that’s so good, Din. You’re so good.”
He whimpers in response, though part of that may be due to the fact that your hips are now flush to his. You’re both panting, a sheen of sweat coating both of your bodies. You can’t see the perspiration on Din, but you can feel the moist heat emanating from him.
You open your eyes, not realizing they had been closed in the first place. You’ve never been this fucking full in your life. You swear you can feel him all the way up to your throat.
“M–plea–please move,” Din begs and lets his helmet rest on your forehead. His entire body is shaking with the effort of not blowing his load too quickly.
You grant his request, starting to rock your hips as you bring a hand to settle on his neck, delighted to find a damp mess of curls peeking out from his helmet at the nape. Din gasps as you tug lightly while lifting your hips.
You start a slow but steady rhythm, your skin slapping against each other each time you bottom out. His heavy cock drags against your walls, making your toes curl. A little whine sneaks out from Din’s concealed lips every time you sink down on him.
A lewd moan tumbles from your lips as you feel him punch against your cervix, tucking in further than you’ve ever been able to reach before.
“Fuck, Din! You’re so deep, baby!”
“I’m not g-going to last l-long, Meshla,” Din strains.
You ride him harder, taking that as a challenge. The tight thatch of hair at the base of his cock catches on your clit as you slam down on him, bringing you further to the brink. Something white hot flashes within your body, blinding you momentarily.
You’re not even able to tell him you’re close too before you’re clamping down on him, and he’s shouting as he loses control. Your moans tangle together as you soak his dick, your legs trembling unlike you’ve ever experienced before.
Din wraps his arms around you as he thrusts up into you, spilling himself within your heat. You’ve never in your life seen or felt anyone come as much as he does. Every time you think he’s done, you feel another spurt of his seed clinging to your walls.
By the time you’re both coming down, your ears have started ringing and your breathing has calmed down enough for you to get a word out, though you’re not sure Mando’s quite capable of that yet.
“Y-you good?” you manage to gasp.
You feel Din nod against you, and give yourself permission to lean against him. You’re wrung fucking dry. If this is what it feels like when you’re on top, what might it be like when Din’s in charge? The thought makes your body shudder and your pussy quiver. You sit in silence with him for a while until he finally breaks it with a voice just above a whisper.
“C-can we do that again?”
You laugh at hearing the last thing you expected to come from his mouth after that.
“Fucking maker, Din.”
***
Thank you for reading!! Please consider interacting if you enjoyed this!
#pedro pascal#fan fiction#ao3#pedro pascal smut#smut#the mandalorian#mando smut#the mandalorian fanfiction#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian x you#the mandalorian fic#the mandolarian#din djarin smut#din djarin fanfiction#mando x reader#mando x you#mando fanfiction#din djarin#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal fic#sub!din djarin#sub character#dom reader#sub!character
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the key to solving johnny’s horrible mood? by letting him eat you out.
cw — f!reader, cunnilingus, soap's nasty.
careless recruits, getting scolded by the captain and messing up some tasks — literally everything was going terribly wrong today. did he wake up on the wrong side today or what? just his damn luck.
barging into the apartment he shared with you and dropping his stuff aside, he stomped inside and searched around for you, glaring blue eyes softening just a bit when he caught you reading a book on the bed, comfortably laying.
and oh, you were wearing some loose shorts too.
he pounced on you in no time, shoving the book away from your grasp, earning a surprised yelp from you.
“johnny, what—”
“need ye so bad, hen. cannae shut down my head.” he grumbled and pressed soft kisses on your cheeks until you finally let out a giggle due to the ticklish feeling, callused fingers sliding your loose shorts down your squirming leg before shoving his face in between your legs.
he was nasty, mouthing and licking your warm cunt through your panties, soaking them all up with his saliva and your precum, feeling the heat emitting from you.
this is exactly what he needed, just comfortably laying in between those soft plush thighs of yours, all cozy with his mind only focused on you and the little moans you let out, your hands resting on your stomach while you panted softly.
he would gently grab the bottom of your panties and move them aside, letting his mouth latch onto your soaking cunt, hungrily slurping and sucking onto your poor sensitive clit, obscene noises filling the air.
he was so messy, not caring about your slick coating his stubble, your wetness slowly beginning to soak the sheets underneath. in fact, he loved it. so much for being called soap.
you had long forgotten about the book you were reading, pleasure overtaking your senses while you whined and tried to grind against his hungry mouth with your hips clumsily bucking forward, your fingers tugging and gripping onto the messy hair of his mohawk while his tongue circled your puffy clit before shoving into your tightness, his nose nudging against your clit.
by now, all of his anger was long forgotten. you really were his off switch.
#weirdo i love him#soap x reader#john mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#soap mw2#john mactavish#john soap mactavish#cod x reader#cod smut#call of duty#rurufic
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better than a sight for sore eyes — sam winchester
cw : gn!reader, suggestive, established relationship, once again not smut, but nsfw and highly suggestive!! so minors and ageless blogs DNI !!! swearing, a lot of horny thoughts, kind of implied switch-ish!reader and dom-ish!sam, but no hard-set sub/dom dynamic (sam is just a menace), barely edited, no use of y/n, 1K words. inspired by this gif set !! check it out for the full feeling horny over sam winchester experience !!
summary : sam looks damn fine in that grey tshirt and you want him, but he's set on teasing you.
sam is far more than a sight for sore eyes. in that grey, v-neck t-shirt with his arms crossed and neck shining with a subtle sheen of sweat, he looks like sweet, cool relief from a sweltering heat, hot tea for frigid hands and lips, and simply, but most effectively put, beyond sexy.
he’s saying something about the case to you, and you only know this because your gaze flicks away from his toned arms for just a moment to catch his lips moving.
“–so we’ll head out when dean gets back.”
you figure that’s the most important part of the sentence, so you just nod and hum in acknowledgment before letting your gaze continue raking over his body. you feel like you could drool over the muscles of his chest, forearms, and the bulge of his biceps that are all exaggerated by his folded arms. and his shoulders, god, his shoulders from this angle; you’re looking down at him from the raised platform of the room.
he raises an eyebrow at you, and you catch the smirk that begins to pull at his lips as he turns towards the door.
swallowing hard, you lean against the railing and take in the broadness of his back as walks away, likely to head back to his research.
“when’s he getting back?” you call after him before he can disappear into the next room.
“maybe fifteen,” he speculates, turning back around to face you as he leans against the door frame. god, does he have to do that? he fills up the space in the doorway, so tall and gorgeous, and all you want to do is walk right over to him, tangle your hands in his pretty, pretty hair, and kiss the air out of his lungs. that fucking smirk is still splayed across his lips, and from the looks of it, he knows that all you want right now is to be all over him. you certainly haven’t remotely attempted to be subtle about the way you’ve been staring at him all morning.
you look at him expectantly, hoping he’ll urge you down and over to him for a kiss, maybe with words or a simple hand motion, but he does nothing. he just waits for a beat to see if you have another question before turning back away and heading for the stack of books and files that await him. huffing in frustration, you pad after him, finished with your task in that room anyway.
when you plop down in the seat across from him, he’s already opened up a file and begun to read it. without looking up, he slides one to you. normally, you’d accept it without a complaint, more than willing to get to work. but you really don’t think he should be allowed to look the way he does and act like he doesn’t know it’s making you go a little crazy. all you can think about is getting up, standing behind him and sliding your hands down his chest, then leaning around to suck pretty marks on his sweaty, irresistable neck. maybe you’ll slide a hand up to lightly squeeze at the base of his neck and lick at the sensitive spot right below his jaw to pull a pretty sound from his throat and make it impossible for him to ignore you.
he’ll grab your wrists and pull your hands away from him, then stand and turn around. and depending on his mood, he might push the chair out of the way and back you up until you hit the wall. one large hand will be on your waist, and the other will pin one of your wrists above your head as he kisses you hard. your free hand will get tangled in the curled edges of the hair at the back of his neck, and he’ll—
sam’s voice calling your name interrupts the fantasy. the tone of his voice is amused, and he can’t seem to get rid of that damn smirk.
“what?” you grumble, annoyed that he won’t let you even think about jumping his bones, much less actually do it. he laughs a little because he thinks you’re cute when you’re mad about this sort of thing. “don’t laugh at me,” you whine, “i’m struggling right now.”
“because i’m focusing on the case instead of fucking you?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
you just about moan at his words. “fuck, sammy, don’t say that. i need you,” you groan.
that has him clenching his jaw and wishing he hadn’t said something so vulgar and opened up the opportunity for you to say that, because it’s always a sure-fire way to chip away at his resolve.
“read your file,” is all he says, pointing to it with his chin. that does absolutely nothing to help, because the motion has got you focusing on his neck again and the way the muscles and tendons are pulled taut for a moment, becoming more pronounced and just begging for your lips all over.
he doesn’t miss the way your gaze travels up from his collarbone to his jaw, then his lips, then his pretty hazel eyes. the way he raises his eyebrows at you when you make eye contact is hot too.
“fuck you, sam,” you complain, no malice whatsoever present in your voice, just something bordering on desperate.
he resists the urge to say “you wish,” but he knows that wouldn’t be fair at all, especially considering he wants that too. instead, he just smiles a little and lets his gaze drop back to the file in his hand.
“dean will be back too soon, alright? just wait til tonight, baby,” he adds that last part in hopes of sedating you just a bit, and because he certainly means it. he knows that you can’t keep your eyes off him or your thoughts out of the gutter, but he’s having similar troubles. he just has a fun time with the teasing and adores the look in your eyes as they drag all over his frame.
and just for a moment, he feels all soft as he thinks about the way you never fail to make him feel wanted. so, so wanted. needed, even, if he were to ask you.
#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester fanfiction#sam winchester x gn!reader#sam winchester x y/n#sam winchester suggestive#sam winchester x you#sam winchester smut#sam winchester drabble#supernatural smut#supernatural headcanon#sam winchester supernatural#sam winchester headcanon#supernatural suggestive#spn sam winchester
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megan, darling sunshine, i have the softest of soft requests for you with our favorite cowboy. 🥺
can i request #6, #34, #36, #41, #83 with arthur? i desperately need protective, soon-to-be dad!arthur in my life. it's what we all deserve, honestly. 🤍
thank you so much! i can't wait to see what absolute magic you make with these prompts.
Deserving | Arthur Morgan / Reader
First off let me give you the fattest smooch <3
Word Count : 1.9k Prompts : 6. I won't let anything happen to you, I swear. 34. I think you're showing. 36. You're glowing. 41. The baby loves hearing you sing/speak. 83. Was that a kick? Warnings/tags : Cursing, talk of abandonment, Reader is 5 months pregnant, Arthur deserves a second chance at being a father, Self degrading talk on Arthur's part, Switch POV.
Arthur was aware it was a tad foolish the way he was feeling. Although seeing you growing his child has awakened something that had been lying dormant in him. Something that he hardly understood himself. A primal feeling, knowing that he was the one who made you like this. That it was his seed that had made you grow swollen and round and so damn gorgeous.
He was also painfully aware of the gold ring in his pocket, his nerves eating him from the inside out. He had never been so nervous in his entire life, more nervous than when he went on his first job. Unlike a job he had never felt more unprepared. He had always wanted children, and he had dreamed of having children with you. But Jesus, he was terrified he would turn out like his old man. He didn’t- no - he couldn’t mess up this time. Not with you. Yes, he loved you. God he loved you more than anything. Arthur did not necessarily believe in soulmates. Perhaps when he was younger he could have believed that his soul could be tied to another person, but he wasn’t that foolish anymore. Love was something you worked for, it wasn't predestined by whatever god was above. He knew you could easily find another man to love you, even with the babe. He also knew you deserved someone better than him. You deserved the world, deserved someone who would build you a home, someone who hadn’t been too damn chicken to ask you to marry him before knocking you up. But he also knew that no man could love you like he loved you.
“You’re staring Arthur.” You chuckled, raising a brow as you turned to face him. Your hand resting on your hip as you leaned on the boar skinned table.
“You’re glowing.” He said softly, not denying the fact that he had indeed been staring at you. How could he not? You were really glowing, he hadn’t known that that silly saying about pregnant women was the truth. You were like some angel, the glow coming from within, lighting up the small tent. If he squinted he swore he could see a halo around your head. Especially when your bump had finally shown itself.
You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips as you went back to whatever task you were working on. He walked up behind you, his deft fingers working on removing his gun belt. Laying belt down on the table before pulling you against his chest.
His hands lovingly squeezed your hips, before moving to your stomach. He sighed contently, laying his head in the crook of your neck. Breathing in your sweet smell, his calloused hands running over the soft fabric of your skirt. His heart nearly stopped as he felt the swell of your abdomen. Nearly brought to his knees by such a small thing. Well it wasn’t exactly small anymore, you had finally ‘popped’.
“‘Think you’re showing, sunshine.” He whispered, his breath tickling your ear as he swayed with you in his arms. You giggled, shying away from his lips as they brushed against your neck.
“I would say so, can’t fit in my damn pants anymore.” You chuckled, shaking your head as you continued to patch a hole in one of his shirts.
In all honesty, you hadn’t been able to fit in your pants for a long time. It had been almost four months since the fateful day you told Arthur you were pregnant.
-
You had all the telltale signs, breast tenderness, food aversions, etc. Along with Abigail’s damn knowing glances, and then your monthly cycle had been absent, confirming your suspicions. You had nearly gone mad, a million thoughts running through your head. How were you supposed to care for a child with the lifestyle you had? You had briefly discussed children with Arthur, but it was always in the future. When you weren’t being chased by the law or Pinkertons or whoever. You didn’t want your child to be raised how either of you were raised. Always on the run, never having a true safe place to call home. Speaking of the future, marriage had always been a talk for the future as well. Now you were here, an unwed mother.
And then there was Isaac and Eliza. That was a whole new can of worms to throw into the mix. Would he even want to have a child right now? Would he still want you after he found out? If he left you what would you do?
You would manage, that’s what you always did. But you didn’t want to go through this without him.
He had found you pacing near camp, nearly chewing your lip off. His heart constricted in his chest as he watched you.
“Everything alright darlin’?” He asked, pulling you out of your downward spiral. A similar concerned expression on his face as he took you in. You met his bright blue eyes and instantly you fell apart. Tears welled up in your eyes as he rushed over to you. Taking long strides across the grass before pulling you into his broad chest. His calloused hands warm and loving as they rubbed up and down your back, your body shaking with sobs you couldn’t control. “Darlin’ you’re scaring me.” He said softly, laying his chin on the top of your head. “Talk to me sunshine.”
“Arthur I think-“ You let out a shaky breath, “I think I’m pregnant.” You cried, tears clouding your vision as you looked up at him.
He was frozen, his brain short circuiting as he tried to process the words you had just said. He must have heard you wrong.
“What… what did ya say darlin’?” He asked, his hands on your biceps as he held you in front of him. His brows furrowed and his lips drawn into a thin line.
“I’m pregnant Arthur.” You said, your lip trembling as you waited for his response. You were trembling in his grasp, your heart pounding against your rib cage.
“Okay.” He nodded slowly, still trying to wrap his head around it all. Goddamn it Morgan, you’ve gone done it again. Are you seriously the most foolish man alive? His thoughts spiraled into their usual degrading speech. Here you were shaking in his arms like a damn leaf and he was too damn stupid to say anything. Say something, anything, to stop her from crying. Your tears tugging on his heart strings. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” He cooed, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “Don’t cry, please.” He said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“M’sorry-” You sobbed, looking down.
“Don’t. Don’t you dare apologize for this.” He said holding your face, “If anyone ought to apologize, it should be me.” He said, shaking his head. You bit your lip, looking up at him.
“Arthur, what are we gonna do?” You asked, finally calmed down enough to speak a coherent sentence. He clenched his jaw, looking off to the side.
“Do you want this?” He asked softly, running his hand down your arm. Taking your significantly smaller hands in his, squeezing them gently.
“I-“ You sighed, letting out a long breath. “I think I do.” You nodded, hesitantly raising your head to look at him. He exhaled a breath of relief.
“Okay.” He nodded, “I want this too.” He said, giving you a reassuring smile. You couldn’t help but let out an equally relieved breath, a small smile tugging at your lips.
“Yeah?” You asked, chuckling breathlessly.
“Yeah.” He nodded, chuckling along with you. “You know I won’t let anything happen to you, you or the baby, I swear.” He said gently pulling you closer, his hand moving down to caress your stomach.
-
You smiled at the memory as Arthur rubbed his hand over your bump.
“They movin’ any?” He asked, kissing your cheek.
“They have been most of the day.” You chuckled, following his lips with your cheek as he pulled away. You turned around in his grasp, laying your hands on his chest. “They’d probably move if you talked to them. You know how the baby loves hearing you talk.” You said, smiling up at him. He grinned, his eyes sparkling with pride.
He knelt down, feeling his mothers ring slide lower into his pocket. As he knelt face to face with your round belly, he couldn’t have been more thankful that Mary had returned his ring. That things hadn’t worked out between them, because if they did, he would have missed this.
He pressed his lips against your belly in a chaste kiss, before chuckling softly to himself. “Hey there kid.” He said, his grin growing if that was even possible. “Ya bein’ good for ya mama?” He asked, running his hand over the tight skin. He felt a small kick under his palm, looking up at you for confirmation that it wasn’t a part of his imagination. “Was that a kick?”
“Sure was.” You chuckled, laying your hand over his. He chuckled, shaking his head as he stared at your belly. There had been too many nights lying next to you on his small cot, twirling the ring in his fingers. Just trying to work up the courage to ask you. Even before your belly started to swell he had dreamed of asking you. He just wanted everything to be perfect, although in hindsight it was a foolish thought. Things would never be perfect, that was the thing wasn’t it?
Now was the time. He knew it, kneeling here in front of you, but how was he gonna ask? How was he gonna get past the lump in his throat?
“Hey kiddo, ya think I could have a moment with your mama here?” He asked, a nervous smile on his lips as he looked up at you. “I got a question for her.” It was now or never. He reached into his pocket, his sweaty fingers grasping the small gold ring. He took in a deep breath before finding your gaze, holding out the ring to you. You gasped, covering your mouth with your hand, tears pricking your eyes.
“This… well this ain’t how I imagined this. I wanted to do something special for ya and I should’ve done this a long time ago. I promised ya when we found out about the kid I wouldn’t let anything happen to ya. I mean to keep that promise. There are men more deserving of you, hell I’m probably the least deserving-“ You scoffed shaking your head, “But none of those men could ever love you the way I do. So, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” He asked, gingerly holding your left hand.
“Yes, yes!” You cried, grinning as he slipped the ring onto your finger. He let out a breath of relief, getting to his feet. You threw yourself into his arms, laughing as tears slipped down your cheeks.
“It’s uh- I know it’s nothing fancy but-“ He said softly, “It was my mothers and I know she’d want ya to have it.”
“It’s perfect.” You said, pulling away to admire the ruby ring. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” You chuckled, wiping away your tears as you admired the ring. Arthur’s heart warmed at your words. He would never know what he had done to deserve someone like you, you and the baby. Although he may not have said his vows at that moment, he made a silent one in his heart. As long as his heart was beating, and there was still breath in his lungs, nothing would ever happen to either of you.
#rdr2#arthur morgan#red dead redemption 2#Arthur#red dead redemption arthur#red dead#red dead redemption#rdr#hihomeghere#mini prompt#dutch van der linde#hosea matthews#john Marston#abigail roberts#abigail marston#javier escuella#arthur morgan x reader#Arthur Morgan x pregnant reader#jack marston
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Javier Peña x f!reader
Requested:
requesting… daddy!javi comforting u after a stressful work day 👀 pls n thank
warnings: no use of y/n, established relationship, fingering, squirting, spitting, spanking, a bit ass play (I cant resist), dirty talk, daddy!javi obviously, d/s dynamics obviously, extreme overuse of pet names and I'm not sorry, fluffy Javi deserves its own warning
w/c: 5.3k
a/n: the long overdue Javi fic is finally here lmao I wrote this very quickly and I haven't written for him in a long time so it may not be my best but I'm honestly just proud that I finally got something out :)) pls let me know if you like it!! ALSO! I reached 1.5k followers awhile ago which is just mind blowing so I just wanted to say THANK YOU to everyone who has joined me and continues to support me. This blog and all the friends I've made here have helped me through some pretty rough times and I'm forever grateful AHHH I just you all soo much!!
my masterlist
You’re not there to greet him when he opens the door. Usually you’d have a glass of whiskey in your hand for him, already a little tipsy from the glass you had for yourself earlier.
There’s a unpleasant shiver that runs down his spine as the thought of you being in some sort of danger immediately crosses his mind. But the sound of you puttering around in the kitchen gives you away. That and the haze of smoke and smell of burnt food wafting through the entire apartment.
He kicks his shoes off and loosens his tie as he rounds the corner to the kitchen to find you standing in front of the stove, tending to what he assumes is some chicken in a pan. The exhaust fan on the range hood and the ceiling fan are working overtime, pushing the smoke out of the kitchen and through the open window.
“Hi, bebita” Javi says as he enters the smokey kitchen. You don’t say anything in response, just give him a quick sideways glance before turning back to the stove.
He crosses the room and moves to stand behind you. Maybe if he had seen the frown on your face, or the way your eyebrows are deeply creased in frustration, he would’ve said something very different.
But he didn’t see.
“Dinner smells delicious” he teases, squeezing your hips. He’s expecting a little chuckle from you, or at least an annoyed eye roll with a hidden smile.
So he’s caught very off guard when you slam the spatula down on the counter with a loud, frustrated sigh.
“Well I’m sorry that I tried to make a nice meal. Guess I’m fuckin’ useless at that too.”
You try to push yourself out of his grasp, but his grip only tightens.
“Hey okay okay, easy.” Javi soothes, turning you around so you’re facing him. “What’s wrong, bebita?” he asks, his tone immediately switching from teasing to soft and tener.You puff out a heavy sigh, refusing to look up at him and staring at his white shirt stretched across his chest instead.
All the thoughts about your horrid day at work that you’ve been trying to block out break the damn and come flooding back into your head; your boss telling you that you fucked up two different major tasks and refusing to tell you how to do them correctly, catching your coworkers gossiping about you in the breakroom, your computer dying right before you could save any of the work you had done for the day, and how you tried to come home and cook as a distraction but you clearly forgot about the chicken sitting on the stove and almost caught the house on fire.
You hadn’t even noticed the tears welling up in your eyes until Javi is wiping away the ones that have brimmed over and slid down your cheeks.
“Cariño…” Javi whispers, his tone drenched with concern. That’s all it takes. You instantly break down, falling forward into Javi’s chest as your whole body shakes as you sob, your tears wetting the crisp fabric of his shirt.
You tell him everything in between wet gasps and uneven breaths, unloading everything at once. He just holds you through it, nodding along and giving you an occasional understanding hum while running his palms up and down your back until you finish talking.
“Your boss is an asshole” is the first thing Javi says. “Your coworkers too”
You respond with a pathetic sniffle. “I really fucked up though. And now everyone thinks I can’t do my job”
"Bebita,” Javi starts, continuing to rub soothing circles on your back. “Everyone has tough days at work. It doesn't define your abilities or your worth. You're so much more than a single bad day."
You sniffle again, still leaning heavily against him for support.
"It's just... I'm tired of feeling like I'm constantly failing."
Javi clicks his tongue and moves one hand to use two fingers to gently tilt your chin up, making you meet his easy gaze.
"You're not failing, mi amor. Sometimes things don’t go as planned and that’s okay. You're learning and growing."
You wish he wasn’t so right all the time. Sometimes talking back to the false narrative that runs rampant in your head 24/7 is too much work.
"I know” you sigh, wiping away tears with the back of your hand. “It’s just hard not to let it get to me."
Javi's thumb brushes against your cheek, his touch gentle and comforting.
"I understand. Just remember you're not alone in this. I’ll always be here for you, my sweet girl”
You manage a weak smile, feeling a bit of warmth starting to seep back into your heavy heart.
“Thank you” you whisper.
Javi smiles warmly, his eyes full of admiration and unwavering support.
“Of course, baby. I’m here for you always. No matter what.”
You let your head fall back to his chest and you take a deep breath. He keeps rubbing your back, physically feeling the tension leaving your body as you melt against him. Without your brain in overdrive, you finally register the smell of his faded cologne and his cigarettes sticking to his shirt, the scent immediately washing away more of the tension in your muscles. The warm feeling in your chest starts to spread all the way down to your toes, your whole body feeling 10 times lighter than it did 5 minutes ago as his embrace brings you a sense of solace you hadn’t experienced all day.
After another silent minute or two, he places a kiss to your hairline before leaning in close, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.
“You know, there’s another way to forget about it for a little while.”
His low voice alone already has the base of your spine tingling. You pick your head up to meet his gaze, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes.
“Yeah?” you ask, a weak smile slowly spreading across your face.
“Mhmm” he hums, his hands sliding down to your waist and slipping under the hem of your shirt, his warm fingers splaying over your skin.
"You've had a tough day," Javi continues, his voice a sensual murmur. "And I think you deserve something to take your mind off all that stress."
His words, laden with suggestion, push all the worries out of your body, replacing it with a thrill that courses through your veins. He leans in until his face is inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. "Let me take care of you, bebita."
All you can do is nod dumbly. Javi grins as he pulls you in closer. His lips capture yours in a slow, tantalizing kiss, his lips soft and warm against yours, the taste of him flooding your senses. His hands slide up from your waist to your rib cage, rucking up your shirt in the process. Every touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, drawing you impossibly closer to him. He pulls away just long enough to pull it over your head before his lips capture yours again.
He wraps one arm around you, keeping you close as his other hand cups your jaw, his fingers curling around the back of your neck as his thumb mindlessly brushes your cheek. Your hands find their way to his back, fingers tracing the lines of his muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt.
He swipes his tongue across your bottom lip and you part your lips with a soft sigh, his tongue immediately sliding against yours. It’s a dance of desire and vulnerability, an unspoken promise that he’s here to take away all of your worries. The rest of the world quickly fades into a distant blur, leaving just the two of you in this electric connection.
His lips eventually leave your mouth, his breathless chuckle fanning across your jaw at the sound of your quiet whimper. He trails wet kisses along your jaw, down to the side of your neck, each one accompanied by a soft exhale that causes goosebumps to erupt over every inch of your skin. The sensation is exquisite and maddeningly arousing, and you find yourself tilting your head back, giving him better access.
His teeth gently graze over your pulse point, sending shiver coursing through your entire body. Your heart races as he finds a spot just below your collarbone, nipping and sucking before soothing the dark spot with his tongue. His hands roam your torso, big, warm palms exploring every inch of exposed skin. You can feel the bulge in his jeans rapidly grow against your hip and your core throbs with a dull ache in response. Everything that happened earlier is miles away as you feel yourself relaxing deeper into his embrace, losing yourself in him.
He pulls away when you whine quietly and looks down at you, his pupils already blown with lust and desire. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear then ducks down to place a chaste kiss to your lips before whispering “Bedroom. Now.”
You nod and turn to head out of the kitchen, letting out a small giggle when he lands a quick slap to your ass. His eyes are glued to your backside as he follows you to the bedroom, his fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt along the way
You flop down on the edge of the bed with Javi just a few steps behind you. He tosses his shirt to the corner of the room and starts working on his belt as he stalks towards you. You smirk and reach behind you, undoing the clasp of your bra and letting it slide off your arms. Javi licks his lips at the sight of you sitting there in only your soft cotton shorts, looking like he’s about to pounce on his prey.
He crosses the room until he’s standing inches in front of you, then slips his belt out of the loops and tosses it aside. You reach out, intent on undoing the button and zipper of his jeans but he stops you by wrapping a large hand around your wrist before you can touch him.
“Nuh uh, baby. I’m takin’ care of you tonight”
His words send a strong pulse of excitement down your spine and your heart pounds in your chest. He lets go of your wrist and you let it fall limply back to your side as you stare at him through your lashes.
“Take off your shorts.”
You immediately follow his command, quickly standing and moving to slide your shorts and panties down your legs so fast that you stumble a bit when they get caught around your feet. Javi reaches out and grabs your arm to steady you as you step out of your shorts and kick them to the side.
“Good girl” he chuckles, dropping his hand from your arm. You watch with wide eyes, saliva gathering in your mouth as he shuffles out his jeans, his hardened cock gently slapping against his lower abdomen. He catches your gaze and gives you a knowing wink before making his way onto the bed. You stand in place, patiently waiting for your next set of instructions as he props himself up against the headboard.
“C’mere” he says softly, patting his thigh. You positively beam as you climb on the bed towards him. You face him and you’re about to straddle his lap, but he stops you with a hand on your hip.
“Turn around, cariño.”
You listen and immediately turn around and sit down between his spread legs, pressing your back into his chest. His cock presses firmly into the small of your back, a warm and welcome presence. With a contented sigh, you lean back and rest your head on his shoulder.
“You listen so well, baby” Javi rasps, his voice rough with arousal. You only hum in response, your lips curving into a grin as you glow under his praise. He presses a kiss to your temple and his hands find your torso once again, slowly sliding up and down your sides. But he can only resist temptation for so long.
He uses both hands to cup your breasts and you both let out soft sighs in unison.
“Tan bonita, princesa” he whispers, his fingers finding both of your nipples. A small noise escapes from your parted lips as he feathers the pads of his fingers over the sensitive buds, teasing you until they’re stiffened peaks. He then pinches both, gently rolling them between his thumb and fingers.
“That feel good?” he asks softly, his lips moving against your temple.
You nod, letting out an uneven breath as you involuntarily push your chest forward into his touch. He pinches a little harder, pulling a delicate gasp from you. His cock twitches against you in response.
“Want you to use your words, bebita.”
You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before responding.
“F-feels good, Javi.”
He clicks his tongue and squeezes a little harder again.
“And what do you call me when I’m makin’ you feel good, princesa?” he asks, his voice dangerously low in your ear.
Your mouth goes dry and your heart skips a beat in your chest.
Fuck.
The stress of your day was already far in the back of your mind, but Javi was intent on erasing it completely. And he knows exactly how to do so.
“Daddy” you correct yourself, the simple word placing you on precipice of submission “Feels really good, daddy”
“That’s right, bebita” Javi groans softly, his cock twitching in approval. “Such a good girl for me.”
He then hooks his chin over your shoulder while you exhale a long, shaky breath as one of his hands leaves your breast and slides down your stomach. You clit pulses in anticipation, but he avoids where you want him most and instead smooths his hand over the top of your thigh. Your chest heaves with every breath as he teases you with gentle touches, getting you all worked up just the way you both like it.
“You want me to touch you, princessa?” Javi asks, his fingertips dancing delicately on the inside of your thigh. It tickles and you reflexively try to close your legs, but he brings his foot to the inside of your calf and pushes it to the side before placing his foot flat on the bed, keeping your leg firmly in place. “Answer me.”
“Yes, daddy, please” you whine, your voice coming out a lot more desperate than you intended.
“Where, baby? Tell me where you want daddy’s fingers.”
He’s teasing you, but it serves as an excellent distraction – the events from earlier today are the least of your concerns right now.
“You want them here?” he asks, his fingers now just barely tracing your dripping seam. “Want me to touch your pretty little pussy? Rub that pretty little clit?”
You nod fervently and buck your hips up without thinking, your body betraying your patience and chasing after his touch. Javi chuckles darkly and harshly pinches your nipple with his other hand, making you jump in surprise.
“Tell me, baby. Be a good girl and tell me.”
You whimper, a hot flush spreading across your chest and creeping up your neck. You’ve been here a thousand times with him, been in far more desperate situations too. But the butterflies still tickle your tummy and the tips of your ears burn with embarrassment.
“Want…want you to touch my pretty little pussy, daddy.” you murmur, the last of your sentence barely audible.
He immediately rewards you by dipping two fingers into your slippery folds, groaning softly in your ear when he feels how wet you are for him. “Mmm that’s my good girl. Always fuckin’ soaked for me, huh?” he asks, dipping the tips of his fingers into your hole, gathering your slick and dragging it up to your clit. You nod lazily, your eyes fixed on his hand between your legs.
He starts with slow, languid circles, his cock pulsing against your back with every small noise that bubbles up out of your throat. His other hand is still occupied with pinching and rolling your nipple. Hot arousal flows through your veins, every nerve ending on fire just from his easy touches. You want it faster, you need more. But you know he won’t give it to you unless you ask.
“Pl-please, daddy. Faster please” you huff, squirming in his lap as you try to suppress the urge to buck your hips up again.
“Look at you, princesa. Being such a good girl asking’ nicely like that” Javi whispers, instantly picking up the pace of his fingers and adding more pressure. You let out a long, low moan, the sound of it filling the bedroom. “Sound so pretty too” he adds, pressing his lips to your temple.
His other hand leaves your nipple and he shushes you softly when you whine at the loss. He doesn’t tease you this time, his hand immediately joining the other between your legs. He keeps his two fingers on your clit, rubbing firm circles just like you asked while his other hand finds your leaking entrance.
He doesn’t make you ask again before he slides his middle finger inside of you, probably more out of his own desperation to feel you clenching around him. You’re absolutely soaked, you juices freely flowing out of you, down his finger and into his palm like warm honey. He wants to draw it out, slowly work you up until you’re about to snap, but he’s not feeling very patient anymore.
He slides his finger in and out of you a few more times before adding a second, curling his fingertips. He finds the spot inside of you instantly and you reward him with a loud gasp, your whole body trembling as you relax against his chest.
“That’s it, baby. Just relax for me” Javi coos, his voice tight and strained as he tries to contain his own excitement. He pumps his fingers inside you, his fingertips nudging against the spot that has your whole body jolting with every pass. Every inch of your skin feels on fire as he works you, lewd sounds filling the room as he plays with your slick pussy. You feel wetness on your back and quickly realize that it’s his precum leaking from his warm tip, smearing against your skin as you squirm around.
“Mierda, princesa” Javi groans as you clench tightly around his two fingers. “You close, baby?” he asks, already knowing the answer. You answer with a high-pitched whine, throwing your head back on his shoulder.
“Cum for me, baby” Javi grunts, moving his fingers faster, bringing you to the edge. “Cum all over my fingers and then I’ll fuck you, nice and deep just how you like it”
His fingers are relentless, rubbing dizzying circles on your clit and punching up into your g-spot. You can’t hold back anymore, rocking your hips and grinding down on his fingers. Your chest burns with every breath you manage to suck in, the hot coil in your tummy wound tightly, threatening to burst at any moment. You open your mouth and try to tell him that you’re about to cum, but every time you try to speak, the only sounds that come out are loud gasps in-between broken moans.
And then you finally snap. Javi groans as you clamp down around his fingers, so tight that he can hardly keep moving them. He then quickly pulls them out, his eyes wide with amazement as your juices gush out of you, drops of it landing on his leg, most of it soaking the blankets underneath you.
“There’s my good girl” he hisses between clenched teeth. He watches intently as you thrash around, the sight of you squirting and the sweet sounds of your moans going straight to his cock as he works you through your orgasm. He doesn’t let up until you come down, whimpering and jolting at his touch.
You collapse backwards against his chest, your head on his shoulder as you pant and try to catch your breath. He goes back to tracing your seam, his touch featherlight once again. You let out a sigh, your limbs heavy and head fuzzy with pure ecstasy.
He eventually moves his hands away, placing them on your thighs and letting out a low whistle.
“Did so well, princesa. Look how much you came for me” Javi rasps, nosing at the column of your neck.
You pick your head up, looking down at the aftermath of your orgasm. You laugh breathlessly at the dark spot underneath you and the liquid on Javi’s calf shining in the dim glow of the lamp on the bedside table. Javi’s chest rumbles with his own chuckle as he presses sweet kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck.
He doesn’t give you much time to recover before he taps your thighs and gives you your next command. “Hands and knees, princesa.”
You’ve barely had time to catch your breath, but your pussy still aches in anticipation of his earlier promise. You take a deep breath and find enough strength to sit up straight. Your limbs are weak and noodly as you crawl over to a dry spot on the bed and get into position, your ass in the air with your face pressed against the soft blankets.
You crane your neck to watch Javi who flashes you a devilish grin as he assumes his position on his knees behind you. You give him a sweet smile back and wiggle your ass. And he takes the bait, groping your cheeks with both hands before he spreads you open, putting everything on display just for him.
“Fuckin’ gorgeous, baby.” he growls before leaning over to spit. You gasp and moan softly at the feeling of the warm liquid landing on your asshole and sliding down to pool at your swollen clit. He then brings his thumb up, using the pad to gently rub his saliva against your puckered hole. “So fuckin’ gorgeous”
“Daddyyyy” you whine pitifully, pushing your hips back into his touch. He chuckles breathlessly and wraps a hand around the base of his cock and lining himself up.
“You’re so good, baby.” Javi starts as he slides his cock in the mess between your cheeks. “My strong, beautiful, intelligent, good girl.”
Your face heats up at the praise, the words stirring up the butterflies in your stomach yet again.
“Thank you, daddy” you murmur, the sound muffled by the blankets. Javi just hums and continues to glide his cock through the wetness, addicted to the way whimper every time his cockhead brushes against your swollen clit and your aching entrance. You whimper and wiggle your hips again, trying to get what you want.
“Repeat it.” Javi commands simply. “Wanna hear you say it”
You squeeze your eyes shut and whimper again. He’s completely taken over your headspace now, forcing you into a place of submission where there’s no room to think about anything other than him and what he asks of you. This is how he takes care of you, how he can turn every bad day on its head and take away every single one of your worries until you’re a blissed out mess underneath him. And he’s really fucking good at it.
“I’m your strong, beautiful, intelligent, girl” you choke out, a fresh wave of slick gushing out of you and onto his rock hard cock at the forced admission.
“Forgot one” he breathes, his thumb still rubbing at your tight little hole. You wrack your brain, thoughts moving slower than syrup in your head as you try to remember what he said not even 10 seconds ago.
“Good.” you say, as soon as you remember. I’m you’re good girl, daddy.”
“Yes you are, baby” Javi says, notching his tip at your entrance. “So fucking good for your daddy.”
He pushes all the way in, burying himself to balls deep in your aching cunt in one smooth movement. The sounds you make are obscene as you twist your fists in the blanket underneath him. He’s so deep, you swear you can feel him somewhere near your lungs. Just like he promised. He moans roughly behind you, the feeling on your warm walls squeezing rhythmically around his neglected cock overwhelming all of his senses.
But you don’t let him catch a break. You barely give yourself time to adjust before you take matters into your own hands and start rocking your hips, fucking yourself on his cock. Javi inhales sharply, both hands finding your hips and trying to hold you in place, but you’re not having it.
“Daddy please–oh shit��� please fuck me, need it so bad” you whine as you continue to rock your hips despite Javi’s best efforts to stop you.
Javi just growls in response, his fingertips digging into your hips as he slides out until just his tip rests inside before slamming back into you. The loud moan that he pulls from you travels as a shiver down his spine and fuels his fire. He quickly finds a steady pace, brutally slamming into you like he’s fucking the stress out right out of your body. You let all the moans and whines and whimpers float freely out of your mouth as you take what he gives you, as he fills you up and stuffs you full over and over and over again.
“You're so good for me” Javi grunts, gripping your hips and moving them backwards to meet his every thrust. “Feel so fucking good squeezing me like that, this tight little pussy was fucking made for me”
Your eyes roll back into your head, his words once again turning your brain into mush as he fucks you into another plane of existence. You’re already teetering on the edge of another release, your lower abdomen burning with it, your swollen, neglected clit pulsing and desperate for attention.
And Javi feels it too.
“Already gonna cum again?” Javi asks breathlessly before landing a smack to your ass. You yelp in shock and there’s another wave of your juices leaking out onto his cock.
“Ohh you like that, don’t you baby?” Javi coos before spanking you again, this time a bit harsher. Your face scrunches in pleasure and words have completely eluded you so you just cry out against the mattress, hoping that and your clenching pussy gets the point across.
Thankfully Javi doesn’t ask you to answer him. Instead he keeps fucking into you, delivering firmm hits to your ass, completely mesmerized with the way it jiggles as he spanks and fucks into you. He’s just as close as you are, never lasts very long if he’s inside without cumming at least once beforehand.
He moves one hand from your hip to between your legs, his fingers tracing where you’re stretched out so nicely around his thick cock before they land on your clit once again. You sob as he starts immediately rubbing fast, harsh circles that send you speeding towards the finish line.
“Oh fuck, daddy! Gonna cum m’gonna cum pleasssee let me cum”
Javi sucks in a harsh breath, his eyebrows furrowing together as his cock lurches inside of you.
“Yeah, fuck yeah, baby. Cum on this cock like a good girl” Javi grits out, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he clenches his teeth together, trying to hold himself together. Your hands scramble against the blankets as he slams into you with newfound vigor, pushing you up the bed with each thrust and making you scream in ecstasy.
“Cum and then I’ll fill you up” he grunts. “I’ll fill you up and fuck it so deep that it’ll be leaking out of you for days, just reminding you of how good you are for me. Always so fucking good baby jesus christ”
His filthy promises send you flying over the edge. You bury your face in the blankets and scream, your legs giving out from the force of it, your hips dropping to the bed and leaving you in a prone position. And Javi doesn’t miss a beat. He presses his chest against your back, using his freehand to support the bulk of his weight as he keeps working his fingers on your clit the best he can, not letting his pace falter even once.
The new position shoves his cock even deeper inside of you, punching against your cervix with each thrust as he rearranges your guts. Your only option is to lie there let him drag out your release for as long as possible.
“That’s it” Javi rasps, his voice sounding absolutely wrecked now. “Sweet little pussy is fuckin’ milking my cock, cariño. You want my cum? Want me to stuff you fuckin’ full?”
You’re too far gone to respond, reduced to nothing but putty in his hands, your trembling body limp and pliant just for him to use. He can only hold it together for a few more thrusts before he buries himself all the way inside of you, spilling his hot seed deep inside of you.
Staying true to his promise, he fucks you through it, shallowly moving his hips and pushing his cum as deep as possible. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, the sensation of it all pushing you over the edge once again, though you’re not sure if you ever came back from the last one. Javi watches in amazement as you cum again, your voice breaking on desperate sobs while you squeeze around him, truly milking him for all he’s worth.
He moves his hand from your clit once your moans start to die down and then collapses on top of you, carefully though as not to completely crush you. You welcome the weight, a comforting pressure that makes you feel so warm and safe and secure.
He stays buried inside of you as you both come down. You can feel his heart pounding from where his chest is pressed against you, his warm breath fanning across your neck as you both try to catch your breath. The two of you stay there for a while, basking in the post coitus glow. His cock softens inside of you and he only moves when his cum starts to dribble out of you.
You whine softly as he moves to sit up, his now soft cock slipping out of you and leaving you feeling empty. But the feeling doesn’t last too long.
He scoots back so he’s kneeling between your legs, both hands on your cheeks and spreading you open again. You feel his eyes burning holes into your skin as he watches his cum slowly leaking out of you. He doesn’t let it fall too far though, using a finger to scoop up all that’s dribbled out and pushing it back inside. You moan softly at the sensation and it takes everything in him not to fuck you with his fingers once again.
“Think we need to get you in a nice hot shower” he says, his tone sweet and soft once again as he removes his fingers.
You turn your head to look at him through hooded eyes, a dopey smile plastered to your face, looking completely fucked out.
“And we’re ordering take out too” he announces, leaning over to place a sweet kiss on your cheek. Images of the burnt chicken sitting on the stove float through your head, along with fuzzy memories of the events from earlier today. But you don’t give a single fuck anymore. Javi thoroughly wiped every ounce of stress from your brain. And now anything that isn’t directly related to you and Javi at this moment, on your shared bed in the dim light of the evening sun filtering through the curtain is far, far away.
“We’re not getting fucking chicken” is all you say and the sound of yours and Javi’s laughter rings pleasantly through the room and in your ears as content seeps deep into your bones.
I LOVE THIS MAN okay thank u for reading <333
#javier pena smut#javier pena x reader#javier pena fic#javier pena x you#javier pena#narcos#narcos fic#pedro pascal characters#javiscigarette
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The Couch
Your official job is as a psychiatrist, but not a single one of the men who visit you care about that. They don't care about you at all. They just want... your cozy damn couch. Every time you walk in the room, there is a big burly man sleeping or lounging on it. Rarely, it is a woman. This time, there are three of them fighting over it. You sigh and submit a request for three more couches. When the supply officer asks why, you claim it is for group sessions. He sends one couch over. It is almost as comfortable as the original, and they take to it quickly.
You stop in your tracks the day you spot a KorTac man sitting nervously on the couch. So far, only Price's team and his associated strays have taken advantage of the open couch. You smile briefly before moving to sit at your desk.
"I'm here if you want to talk, but the couch is open to whomever wants a nap or to relax. No talking required." He nods, slightly more relaxed, and you focus on your computer. When you look up later, you see he has laid down and fallen asleep, his soft snores filling the room. After that, you send in another request and another for more couches and a couple of reclining chairs. You are denied. They tell you to just bring in folding chairs. You decide to use your paycheck and bring in something more comfortable than folding chairs.
The next week, you are struggling to get a reclining chair down the hall as silently as possible when you freeze, a chill running down your back. Turning, you see Ghost standing only a foot away, silently watching with his arms crossed.
"I got a new chair." Your bright smile seems to just bounce off his broad chest, but you pay no mind to him, turning back to the task at hand. You get a few feet further and glance back to say something witty, but Ghost is gone. Another few feet, and you are bodily lifted by a set of strong arms before Ghost and König pick up the chair and carry it to your office with no effort. You thank them and ask if they would be willing to help you with one more thing since they are here. Rolling their eyes, they follow you.
Proudly, you show them the three large boxes that you bought. The men are not amused. Their body language switches from annoyed to almost angry when you pick up one of the boxes. König nearly tears it from your hands, and Ghost swiftly grabs the second box. Holding up your hands, you wait until they storm inside to pick up the third box and follow them.
It takes most of the day for the stuffing in the giant floor pillows to fluff up from being vacuum packed in the boxes, so you take the time to rearrange the room. The next day, opening the door after lunch, you spot no less than ten men and one woman lounging in various spots around the room.
A few weeks later and Soap asks if you can requisition another chair because he is annoyed that Captain Price is constantly snoring away in the only one. You shake your head sadly.
"Sorry, bud. I can't get another one for a while. Too expensive." He nods but puzzles over your wording for the next few days before filing it in the back of his mind.
It takes another couple months for you to save up, but you do bring in a second chair. Soap nearly dances when he sees it.
"I tried to ask supply for one of these for my office, but they had no idea what I was talking about."
"Oh, they wouldn't. They deem my request too frivolous every time." You tap away at the computer, only half paying attention to Soap.
"Then, how did you convince them?"
"Didn't. Had to go get it myself." The silence that falls over the room is far more tense than usual.
"You, you bought these for us? Like with your own money?" You sigh. Here is the conversation you were hoping to avoid. Turning to Soap, you see every person in the room staring at you, trying to work out what is happening.
"Yes, of course. Nothing but the best for my patients. I am the psychiatrist for KorTac and 141, after all."
"What?! We just, we thought you were just an officer with a comfortable couch. But you're a god damn psychiatrist?!" You can see several edging toward the door, nervously.
"Yep. Ghost, please wait just a moment." He hesitates with his hand on the doorknob. "Think about how long you've been napping in here. Have I ever overstepped? Four years I have been assigned to the 141, and not once have I updated your files. Luckily, I can claim patient-doctor confidentiality, or I would be out of a job."
"So, you haven't been doing your job at all?" This comes from Captain Price, who looks confused.
"Oh, I have been. If you don't mind sharing, what is the thing your last psychiatrist kept trying to force you to do, Captain?"
"Fuckin golf. Claimed it would be a good stress relief like I want to be a lazy damn officer."
You nod and glance around. "Ghost, what was your recommendation?"
"God damn yoga." You hear Soap snort and give him a small smile.
"Mmhmm, not something I imagine you would ever be interested in. And you König, if you don't mind?"
His voice is quiet but strong, "Guided meditation."
"Every one of those is rooted in the idea that you need to rest. My job was to find a way to make it happen, and I wasn't keen on being stonewalled and hated by the people I work with. So, I left the door open and passed a rumor around that there was a mythical comfortable couch. Sort of a build it and they will come." You pause and gather your courage. "As I have said from the beginning, talking is optional. Naps and resting are welcome. That's the way it will stay as long as I am here."
Turning back to your computer, you submit another supply request, worded slightly different from the last. A bigger office for more group sessions so both teams can be present. The silence in the room is less tense, but you don't look up from your screen, not wanting to see how many left, knowing who you are now. To your surprise, when you stand up to stretch, every spot is still occupied.
The next week, you get your denial and an inspection scheduled as you haven't been logging apppointments since posted there, and your constant requests have been noticed. The stress shows in the tenseness of your jaw and the furrow between your eyes, but you don't say a word to anyone.
The day of your inspection comes, and you brace yourself for invasive questions and the likely anger from whomever shows up when you refuse to answer those questions. You hint three time and then outright tell the lounging men to leave just minutes before the scheduled appointment, frantically trying to tidy up and make it look like you have adults as patients instead of sleep away camp.
"What is goin' on, lass?" Soap asks lazily from the floor pillow he refuses to vacate.
"I- I have an inspection, like right now." That gets their attention.
"Och aye! We will clear ou-" A knock at the door interrupts him. You take a deep breath, forcing your emotions under a smile.
"Enter." A man confidently walks in, faltering when he sees so many eyes on him.
"I am here to inspect your work, Captain. You were informed as to the time?" Standing, you salute him, then motion him to one of the seats.
"Yes, my apologies, Lieutenant Colonel. This group session ran a little late. If you could excuse us, everyone. We can pick this back up tomorrow. Hopefully." They all stand and salute the Lieutenant Colonel before walking out. He stalks to the chair in front of your desk.
"You will be lucky to make it to the end of the day if I have anything to say about it. You have clearly squandered resources buying all of this furniture, and there isn't a single update to any personnel files. Your explanation better be damn good, Captain."
You meet his gaze squarely before answering. "I am assigned to a unit whose work is often above top secret. I do not take notes on what is said in this room. I have found that doing so makes patients uncomfortable and, therefore, less likely to relax."
"That doesn't explain why you are not charting recommendations." You lean back and pull out a paper from a drawer.
"These are the recommendations previously listed in the files of various patients who are now under my command. Almost all of them fall into the same category: relax. So when I reviewed the files, I notated in the general team file for The 141 that relaxing activities would be undertaken as needed. The KorTac file gained the same note when they were switched to my purvue. There is no need to update individual files when I do my utmost to only hold group sessions, again for comfort to the patients."
He sits back, clearly not convinced, but at least pondering it a moment. "Why did you have KorTac transferred to your care? They were previously under another, frankly more competent, psychiatrist."
"Was that psychiatrist able to get them to open up? Honestly, I am curious if the team even showed up to their sessions by how sparse their files are. Colonel König has been here for six years, and his entire file is less than a dozen pages. The same could be said for nearly all of the KorTac team. There are notations in most of these files that KorTac and The 141 can not be in the same room for more than five minutes at a time without fighting. Yet nearly every day members of both teams are here for upwards of an hour a day, and they haven't had any fights outside of here in months." You snap your jaw shut, noticing the slightest of movement behind the Lieutenant Colonel. You stand and salute.
"Corporal, you've already saluted me. Sit down."
"She is saluting me, not you, Lieutenant Colonel." Colonel König salutes you back as the Lieutenant Colonel grouses about being interrupted before he turns and pales. He hurriedly stands and renders his own salute, which is returned with deliberate slowness.
"Colonel, if I may?" At his nod, you continue. "I did not mean to speak so flippantly of your records. I should have guarded their contents more closely. You have my deepest apologies." His eyes lock with yours, and you could swear he is either smirking or smiling.
"It is of no consequence. I am glad to know that you feel such concern, despite the public nature that such personnel files often suffer during inquests such as these." He pulls up another chair from who knows where and sits just behind the Lieutenant Corporal. "I will monitor to ensure sensitive information about need to know operations is not disclosed."
You nod, "Yes, Colonel. Understood."
The Lieutenant Colonel shifts uncomfortably with the gaze at his back. "Circling back to my first concern. The wasting of British coffers on unnecessary seating is clear gross misconduct. You will need to return all except for the standard single couch immediately."
"Yes, Lieutenant Colonel. When can you send supply over to fetch the other couch?" He looks surprised, as though he expected more of a fight.
"I will have to confer with them to see when they will be able to take so many large items."
"Hmm? Oh no, only the two couches, desk, computer, and the chair you sit in were issued. The rest I brought in at my own expense to better facilitate having over a dozen soldiers and officers in here at the same time. I do ask to keep the original couch. It is the only one long enough to fit many of the men I treat." He looks shocked.
"You furnished the rest?" You can see him fighting not to look around at the room, hand fidgeting on the desk.
"Of course. Patients come first in my care. Every request I have put in has been denied since the second couch. The number of patients I see has more than doubled with the strays that Captain Price and Colonel König have dragged with them into my office. We are running out of time today. Would you like to meet again next week, or do you have the information needed to close out this inquiry?" The Lieutenant Colonel seems shocked.
"But I have more questions. And you need to answer them."
"I understand that, which is why I am offering another meeting. But you scheduled just one time block for this, and I have others coming in right after. The noise he made was pure frustration, and he let loose without thinking.
"Listen here you cunt! You will not get out of this by claiming an appointment. You will answer my questions until I am satisfied and have enough to properly fuck you over the way you deserve! I-!" A hand claps onto his shoulder, making him wince in pain.
"Lieutenant Colonel Riggs. That is not conduct becoming an officer. You will cease your screaming and see yourself out. Your lack of preparation and knowledge does not permit you to abuse officers of a lower rank. You will join me in my office while we discuss this further." The icy tone has you wincing in sympathy. When the door shuts behind them, you nearly collapse on your desk in relief. After a long moment of fighting the urge to cry, you jolt when a hand rubs your back.
"Ghost, why are you still in my office?"
"Support?" You grunt before looking up at him.
"Thank you. Now, I'm going to have a good cry, so if you need to leave to avoid it, now is a good time." Instead of leaving, he makes you stand and walk to the couch where he tugs you to his chest.
"Cry all you want, Luv. I'm here for you, just like you were for me all those times these past few years."
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