#definitely writing smut for this
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thegnomelord · 1 year ago
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https://i.pinimg.com/564x/3c/9a/12/3c9a12a21042f090717945801ab75174.jpg
booby
Yes yes just imagine Price with his pecs pushed out like that just without his arms being bound. Imagine seeing how much the rope makes his chest look bigger before he hides it all under his shirt. Imagine seeing a bit of rope peak beneath his shirt every time he moves his arms, no one else aware of the shibari wrapped around his broad torso but you. And he teases you too, purposely calling on you during a meeting just to see you sputter and try to figure out what's going on even when he knows damn well all of your attention is on him and his chest.
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tittiesnhrtz · 2 months ago
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ghostface!ellie x reader
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minors & men dni , fingering, cunnilingus, knife play, nipple play, overstim
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it's a chilly october night, the leaves are still vibrant with autumn hues outside your window. a crisp breeze weaves through the trees outside, sending a gentle rustle through the branches. the faint scent of vanilla, pumpkin spice and cinnamon hangs in the air inside your home, wrapping all the furniture and the trinkets like a shroud. you’re sitting on your sage couch, wrapped in a cozy crocheted sweater, wearing loose shorts and leg warmers to keep your feet warm on the cold tiles beneath you. your parents are away for a few days at your grandma's, with her health getting worse, it's been hard for her to take care of herself.
the glow from the TV feels distant now, the reporter’s voice filling the otherwise silent room. it’s the same grim news cycle: more bodies found, more gruesome and grotesque details of the dead bodies that should make your skin crawl and erupt with goosebumps. but honestly? you’re just tired. tired of the stories and the police coming up empty.
two of your friends from your friend group are dead, and what'd they have in common? you dated them both at some point. this detail shouldn't probably be necessary or even worth dwelling on, but considering how almost everyone who's either flirted with you or gone on a date with you has no doubt ended up dead—killed by the infamous ghostface himself.
yes, a him. that's what mostly everyone believes but you're somehow sure it's not a man. the way ghostface toys with his victims, the blackmail and emotional mind games—it all feels too calculated, too clever to be the work of a man. not that you think men are stupid, but something about this whole situation just feels... off.
the sound of the doorbell jolts you out of your thoughts. ellie, your best friend, is supposed to be here any minute. she's been your rock through the whole ghostface ordeal. and you think you might be catching feelings for her. her stupid puns and that goofy smile plastered on her face whenever she'd talk about space, dinosaurs, comic books or anything that interested her really, got to you at some point.
with a sigh, you push yourself off the cozy couch, and shuffle over to the door. but when you swing it open, what should've been ellie on the other side is just empty air. that’s strange. you step outside, scanning the porch and the yard, half-expecting to see some kids laughing at their ding-dong ditch prank. instead, you’re hit with a chill as a dark figure catches your eye. a ghostface mask. your heart drops. but before you can even process what you just saw, it vanishes into the shadows.
you stumble back inside and lock the door, but then you hear it—a crash from the kitchen. a china dish smashing to the floor. fuck, what if this is it? what if you’re ghostface’s next target? with a tentative breath, you step inside the kitchen, holding a lamp, ready to strike. except, it's not ghostface, it's just ellie, standing there with a sheepish smile on her face.
"fuck- i thought you were-" you start, your voice trailing off as the memory of the figure outside flashes in your mind.
"i'm sorry, jus' thought i'd surprise you and come in through the back." she explains, motioning toward the kitchen door, which was slightly ajar. "you should seriously learn to lock your doors."
her gaze then drops to the shards scattered across the kitchen floor, the delicate china dish now a jumbled mess of white and pastel blooms. "sorry 'bout that." she mutters, rubbing the back of her neck.
you let out a breath, feeling a mix of relief and irritation. lowering the lamp, you speak. "next time, just ring the doorbell?”
ellie grins. "yeah, sorry."
"whatever, just help me clean this mess." you motion to the mess on the white and black kitchen tiles.
"yep."
you can't stay mad at ellie and it's not the first time she's done something stupid like this.
𓍯𓂃
after what felt like an eternity of cleaning up the mess, you and ellie finally collapse onto your bed, grateful for the distraction of a movie. the small TV on the cabinet across the room flickers to life, and the eerie sounds of SAW II fill the space. you can feel ellie’s presence beside you—she’s sitting awfully close, her warmth radiating against your side. you steal a glance at her, and to your surprise, you catch her gulping, almost instinctively, not once, but three times already. though you're not sure if it's because of the proximity or the gore-y scenes displaying on the screen.
“not a fan of gore movies?”
she chuckles nervously, her eyes glued to the screen. “not exactly in love with the idea of people torturing each other.”  a hint of laughter in her voice, but you can sense something else underneath. something you pass off as anxiety.
you turn your attention back to the movie, but it’s hard to concentrate when you can feel the heat radiating from her. the scene on the screen darkens, and the tension builds as the characters navigate their terrifying predicament. you can’t help but steal another glance at ellie, who’s now looking directly at you.
the characters on the screen scream in despair, but you hardly register it. instead, your focus is drawn to the way her tongue glides over her plump pink lips. and god you want to kiss her badly, to taste the sweetness of her lips.
you don't miss the way her eyes dart down to your lips or the way her chest rises and falls with each breath. you take a breath, steeling yourself, and decide to be bold. you lean in slightly, heart pounding as you gauge her reaction. the air is tense, and you can see her breath hitch, taking that as an invitation, you close the gap.
her lips are slightly cracked but surprisingly soft. she makes a noise against your lips, hands gliding up to rest against your hips, but then they slowly start to wander. under your sweater, from your hips to your waist. ellie can’t help how warm her hands feel against your skin, how smooth, there’s not even callouses on them like hers. the kiss is a bit hungry and impatient, her tongue licking the seam of your lips. your hands move from your lap to cup her face as you part your lips.
the unexpected warmth of her tongue against your cheek sends a shiver down your spine, silencing the whirlwind of thoughts that had been racing through your mind. it’s a ticklish sensation, one that catches you off guard. you let out a small gasp which is muffled into her mouth. ellie continues to explore, her tongue tracing the soft contours of your cheek as if she’s savoring every little bump and curve. there’s a clumsiness to it, an awkwardness that feels endearing rather than off-putting.
when you pull away, a delicate string of saliva connects your lips. your cheeks heat up as you notice the drool glistening in her chin, a sight that is enough to make your panties wet. you lean in and lick the drool off of her, and you can feel her tense up, her hands on your waist squeezing gently. the only source of light is from the TV, and it casts shadows over both of your bodies, the screen and the voices of the characters now completely forgotten. you can feel her hands move from your waist and she’s suddenly cupping your breasts over your bra.
“is this okay?” her thumb traces circles over the soft mounds, staring at you for an answer.
you nod in return and help her remove your sweater and your bra, tossing it somewhere in the darkness. her gaze flicks down to your breasts and for awhile, she just stares. and then a quiet curse follows. her hands move to knead your breasts, watching the skin closely. then, she takes a nipple between her fingers and gently pinches it, watching your every reaction. her mouth latches onto your other breast, her tongue darting out to swirl around it and suck the hardened nub as she pleases, the soft symphony of your quiet noises echoing in the night.
you arch your back, pushing your breasts further into her mouth. she alternates between both of them, giving them both equal attention. her mouth goes dry and she has to pull away with a pop, her green eyes searching your own.
“i wanna feel you.”
her breath hitches and before she knows it, your hands are on the waist band of her jeans, fingers looping into her brown belt. her eyes darken with desire as she looks at you.
“yeah, baby?” she exhales.
the nickname makes your cunt tighten around nothing and you're hastily unbuckling her belt and tossing it away. your fingers work to unbutton her jeans and you slip a hand inside. she lets out a gentle groan as your teeth bite into the flesh of her neck. you leave a series of bruising kisses in their wake as your palm comes into contact with her boxers. to your surprise, she's soaking wet. you almost want to tease her but your desire prevails over it and you're slipping your fingers into her boxers, tracing her slick folds. she's making the prettiest noises too, already falling apart under your touch. but little did you know, she's spent years dreaming of this moment. paintings and drawings of you hidden under her bed, along with the candid pictures that she oh so eagerly waits to get off to every night.
"say you want me."
her breathing is unsteady as she opens her mouth to speak. "fuck." she grunts softly and leans her head into your shoulder. "i want you, baby. please."
her pathetic begging and whines are enough for you to give in, her cunt throbbing as your fingers rub her slick along it. it greedily sucks in your digit as you slowly add it. she feels ecstatic because this isn't a dream anymore, it's real. you add another digit, eliciting a pornographic moan from her. it isn't long until your fingers are curling around her g-spot and her walls are squelching around them.
""m close..s-so close."
"i know. just cum for me, yeah?" you coo into her ear before nipping at the skin just below her ear. and she does exactly that, letting out a strangled sob as her body gets the release she's been chasing for. you take your fingers out of her boxers and suck them clean. ellie still has her eyes shut and her head against your shoulder but she can hear the way your mouth wraps around your fingers and sucks her juices off. she's pulling away and looking at you.
and then, she's guiding you down to lay on the bed, lifting your hips up to remove your shorts until you're splayed in just your cotton panties and leg warmers in front of her. she almost moans at the sight.
"you're so-" she starts, but cuts herself off. leaning down to hover over you and planting a kiss on your temple, on your cheek and one on your collarbone. one of her hands starts rubbing the inside of your thigh as she leans in and kisses you, sloppily. her hand comes to rub your clothed cunt and you feel her muffled moan inside your mouth, as you swallow the noise. she pulls back to look down at you.
"look how wet." she smirks and you almost regret not teasing her about her own drenched underwear.
you can only whimper and lift your hips up in return as her hands hook under the waistband of your underwear and pull it off of you.
"god, so gorgeous and so wet....all for me." she murmurs, more to herself than you. her pupils are blown wide, lips parted as she moves your legs up and pushes them apart. your hands find purchase on her ass beneath her flannel as she mouths at the skin of your neck like it's her hobby. as you squeeze her jeans-clothed ass, you swear you feel an outline of something resembling a... knife. in her back pocket. you take the object out and it's indeed a knife. ellie was in a daze to notice or feel what you were doing— to busy enjoying your skin after only having imagined what it must have felt like in her dreams. your voice, however, causes her to look up from your neck. you dangle the knife in front of her.
"..why do you have a knife?"
her eyes widen a fraction before she smirks and takes the knife from you. "protection. why else?" she answers like you were dumb to even ask the question in the first place. “don’t wanna risk getting killed with ghostface on the loose.”
a pause. "but...it could come handy for other things." she glides the knife down your clavicle to your breasts, the hitching of your breath only serving to encourage her. she presses it down against one of your nipples before moving it lower— where you're aching for her the most.
the cold blade presses against your puffy clit and you moan loudly. "ellie..."
"shh." she coos, grinning down at you, almost sinisterly. she pushes it further against the bundle of nerves, making you whimper. "i need-" she cuts you off by lining the knife along your delicate entrance, you let out a cry and your eyes widen in fear and shock. she seems to notice it and pulls the knife away, but not before gliding it up and down your folds.
"i'm not gonna hurt you, baby." the words roll of her tongue like honey and you feel bad for fearing her in the first place. she places the knife beside you on the sheets and moves to place herself in between your legs. a couple of kisses to your clit before she's greedily licking at your pussy. tongue moving at a relentless pace against your clit as her hands come up to grope your tits. moans fall out of your lips like a prayer and she pushes her tongue inside your cunt before pulling back and lapping away at your juices. you're awfully close and she knows it, she can sense it by the way you're arching your back and gripping the sheets, your knuckles almost white.
"cum on my face, pretty girl." her words vibrate against your clit, causing you to moan out her name.
that elicits a moan from ellie, herself. something stirs in her, hearing you moan her name out like that. and she inserts two fingers into your sopping cunt. curling them graciously against your g-spot, hitting it over and over again as her mouth does the same to your clit.
"ellie..i can't..fuck-" your final cry of pleasure, reverberates through her body. she removes her fingers but keeps lapping at your pussy even after you cum. your weak cries do nothing to pull her away. her grip on your thighs tighten and she pushes them apart from closing. you squirm and squeak due to the overstimulation, nudging her away with all your force, but it's too weak. she doesn't seem too keen on stopping, a hand pushing down on your stomach to stop you from squirming.
"s-stop." it isn't until that word comes out of your mouth that she stops and pulls away to look at your wrecked form. cheeks flush and hair tousled. you don't know how much it affects her. you never do.
"sorry, got too carried away." she murmurs. but she's anything but sorry. after helping you lay your head down on the pillow, she pulls the covers up your body. she can tell she's tired you out by the way your eyes are half lidded and your limbs look sore. she soothes you by wrapping her arms around you, intertwining your hands, and placing a kiss on your forehead. eventually, you drift asleep.
the longer she looks at you, the world outside fades further into obscurity. you, who's sleeping blissfully, completely unaware of the fact that the knife that was pressing against your clit a few minutes ago was the same knife that she used to brutally stab and dismember the body of a classmate who dared flirt with you. you, who's probably having sweet dreams while she has to go and take care of the unconscious body of the guy who rang your doorbell this very night.
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this is my first time writing smut or anything close to a fan fic!! so if you see any mistakes js ignore it :3
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iheartmonaco · 5 months ago
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HI CAN YOU PLEASE WRITE A FULL FIC ON THE VERSTAPPEN GOOD BOY TEXTS PLEASEEE
Good Boy
MV1 X GN!reader
Summary: max verstappen with a praise kink that's it that's the fic
Warnings: suggestive
Inspired by these texts
It started as a joke, really, when you said "you're such a good boy" to Max for the first time.
What shocked you was his reaction to it— the Dutchman, blunt as ever, replied, "I want to hear that in your actual voice, not through texts."
So here you were, with Max's head in your lap, petting him like he does to the cats. A soft sigh left his half-open mouth. You couldn't help but think of it as the perfect opportunity to try out what could be an amazing new addition to your sex lives.
As Max was coming close to the end of his ramble about the day's race, you ran your fingers through his hair and spoke softly, "You did so good today, baby. I'm so proud of you."
It was barely the starting, just typical praise you would always give him after a race, but his reaction was always so adorable you couldn't help but melt. Featherlight pink dusted his cheeks. "Mhm," he replied, lips pressed together in a small smile.
"Such a good boy, always making me so proud."
Heat rushed to his cheeks, cherry red now, as he struggled to keep a straight face. "Thank you, schatje."
You resumed patting his head, cooing softly, "You like that, baby? Like when I call you a good boy?"
Max was looking up at you with sultry eyes and his pupils blown wide. "Yeah," he whispered.
"Then why don't you get on your knees and give me a good reason to call you that, hm?" Max moved instantly, on his knees in front of you in what seemed to be 2 seconds at most. "You know what to do, right, pretty boy?"
He nodded, lips parted as his chest heaved for oxygen. He looked a little dizzy, pupils blown out and blushing down to his chest, and you were loving the effect the simple words had on him.
"Words, baby."
He swallowed dryly, his breath on your thigh. "Yes, schatje, please. Let me please you."
You decided to tease him a while longer, cupping his chin with one hand. "And why should Iet you do that, baby?"
His fingers toyed with the waistband of your sweatpants. "Because I wan— I wanna be a good boy. For you."
You lifted you hips, letting him take your pants off. "Oh, you already are, Max...
"you're such a good boy."
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wonderthor · 7 months ago
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breeding kinks are great yeah but they’re even greater when yall already have kids
probably already have more than you thought you would and content with the kids you have now, but your husband is keen in giving you just one million more
so you’re being pressed gently into the mattress with his body, laying on your stomach while his hand is under your throat so he can be cheek to cheek with you and he rocks into you over and over
and your head’s in the clouds, but you can still hear everything he says
“you’ve been such a good mommy, always so good to our beautiful babies, sweetheart. i think we should have another one. how about it honey, you wanna be good and give me another baby? another beautiful baby that me and you and their beautiful siblings will love on? come on, be good and give us another”
when you shudder and moan against him, telling him your answer, he gets a bit more serious. making sure to pound and pound into you, getting you ready to accept the copious amount of seed he’s going to give you. because he’s putting that baby in you right now.
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mammon-s · 8 months ago
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Thinking about struggling to ride Mammon so he just grabs your hips and fucks you on himself
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You start off whining and trying as hard as you can to bounce on his cock, but your thighs are burning and you collapse on his chest crying about how it’s too much and you can’t do it.
He kisses the top of your head as he puts his hands on either sides of your hips, “it’s ok treasure I gotcha.” He says softly as he lifts you up and slams you down on himself causing you to cry out.
You grip his shoulders tightly, digging your nails in as he continues to fuck you on himself, using you as his own personal cock sleeve until he cums inside you with a loud moan.
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yuwuta · 1 month ago
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I HAD TO HAVE THIS TALK WITH YOU, CAUSE I’D HATE TO HAVE TO ACT A FOOL — MEGUMI FUHSIGURO
cw this exists in the same rich kids/boarding school au as this piece, which are slowly forming their own universe, implied (past) drug use/underage drinking, more of megumi being your guard dog everybody cheer
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Megumi scowls as yet another phone call goes to voicemail. He’s been standing outside the racetrack for fifteen minutes, watching Yuuji absolutely pummel Aoi in polo, and waiting for you. He huffs, just as Yuuji loudly celebrates another point, thumbing a text to Yuuta, asking if he’s seen you all morning. Yuuji claimed you’d left him all by himself after your shared morning class, Nobara was still in Switzerland, and Tsumiki also seemed to be ignoring his messages. 
He needed answers, and quickly, because this is the free period that Muta and his goons also have free, and he would hate to go back on his promise to stop egging him so soon after you’d asked him so sweetly to knock it off. 
Yuuta (received 12:57pm) — She’s fine, Tsumiki and I are with her. Picnic tables outside of the building 703. — Warning, your least favorite upperclassmen are here too, but don’t make a scene. They’re annoying, but not trouble yet. 
Megumi squints, turning on his heels towards the large building opposite the racetracks. As he rounds the side that opens into a field, formally known as one the many lawns dedicated in the Gojo family’s name, and informally revered as your favorite lunchtime spot, he hears the familiar sound of Tsumiki’s laughter, and the unpleasant squawking of his least favorite upperclassmen. 
Seeing you, Yuuta, and Tsumiki sitting at the picnic bench under the blooming wisteria was business as usual; seeing Hakari and another senior infiltrating the seating arrangement was not. Megumi frowns, strolling up to the table to halt the conversation when he’s noticed by you, and sized up by the upperclassman. 
“Oh, uh—hey, I—good afternoon, Fushiguro!” the other senior has the decency to greet him, stumbling with their overly-chipper tone. Megumi eyes them and blinks. Their face is a familiar shadow to Hakari’s, but he never could recall their name, no matter how many times he had the displeasure of running into the duo.  
“It was,” Megumi drawls. He turns his head to face you again, “You’re late.” 
From this angle, you have to tilt your head up to make eye contact with him. There’s an innocence behind your eyes, genuine warning, weary concern; and still, so beautiful it makes Megumi’s thoughts venture elsewhere—only for a moment; he supposes he should be grateful for Hakari’s presence, just this once, because the interjection of his grating voice pulls Megumi back to reality. 
“Relax, Fushiguro, we were all just talking, having a good time,” Hakari whistles, a dirty grin on his lips, “Ain’t that right, Kirara?” 
Ah, Kirara. That’s their name. Megumi doesn’t have time to mull it over, or pretend to commit it to memory; the majority of his energy is focused on preventing himself from throwing a punch. Briefly, he makes eye-contact with Tsumiki, a silent warning in her eyes to not be violent; so Megumi looks to the other side of the table at Yuuta, whose hollow eyes are apologetic, but cautious. Megumi can tell they’ve both been doing their best to neutralize the conversation before he arrived, without setting off your own alarm bells. 
They’ve been patient, but he won’t be: “Get lost, Hakari.” 
“Whoah, no need to rush things. Come on, I didn’t even get a chance to invite you to our party yet,” Hakari’s grin widens, “I just figured I’d get your owner on board before I pet the puppy, yeah?” 
Tsumiki and Yuuta share a look. Megumi bares teeth to growl, rests his palms on the picnic table and leans over to deliver his message again, “Get lost.” 
“Kin, don’t be so rude!” Megumi can hear Kirara’s teeth chattering beside him, a chittering voice attempting to cut through the tension, “What—what he means is that you’re all invited, really!” 
Megumi turns his head, not to acknowledge Kirara or to back down to Hakari, but to look at you. He knows that you know that there are three options to how this ends, and given that he’s already got a strike in your book for bullying Kokichi, and that Yuuta’s route would cause significantly more drama than his, he’s hoping you’ll settle this yourself. 
He tilts his head just enough, raised eyebrows in warning and wait; and then, you give a conceding blink, a small sigh, part your lips to speak, still looking at Megumi when you say: “Hakari, Kirara, you two should grab lunch. They’re going to stop serving the hot food soon.” 
A command hidden as a suggestion. It makes the upperclassmen scowl, but still Hakari motions across the table to Kirara, and they both gather their belongings. “Whatever,” he scoffs, “You know where to find us when you want to have some real fun.” 
Hakari flashes you a wink over his shoulder before he and Kirara make their way around the building and towards the main dining hall. When they’re out of earshot, you smile, look away from Megumi, and back down to your lunch, grabbing the single, wrapped daifuku and tearing open the packaging, before looking back up to him with a smile, “Well, have a seat, Megumi. Join us.” 
Megumi scoffs, standing up straight again, “You’re supposed to be in a meeting with Gojo right now.” 
“I already had Yuuta do my bidding this morning, because he was so sweet to wake up before noon,” you reply, taking the desert out of the plastic, flashing Yuuta a brief smile before looking up to him again, “So I told him lunch was on me, and we ran into Tsumiki on our way. It’s so nice out, isn’t it? Come on, sit with us, enjoy the weather. Yuuta was telling us about the new coup he bought.”
Tsumiki chimes in about her lunch, looking over at Yuuta’s half-eaten tray and wishing she’d got beef instead of chicken. He offers her what’s left of his plate, and she politely declines, before Yuuta insists, pushing his food across the table to her, and you pitch in, putting the remainder of your sauce next to her. The three of you seem to easily pick up where your conversation was presumably before Hakari and Kirara crashed your lunch. 
Megumi’s scowl deepens. He knows that you know that he wants to know why Hakari and Kirara were here in the first place, he knows that you know that their party invitation was just a scheme to get you into trouble and get a rise out of him, he knows that you know he’s going to kick their asses six ways to Sunday unless you tell him not you. 
“Megumi,” you cut through his thoughts, words noticeably heavier, “Sit.” 
He rolls his tongue in his cheek, and you squint a bit, tilting your head to motion to the empty space beside you on the bench. You only spare him a sharp glance, before giving your attention back to Tsumiki, clapping happily as she shows you something she bought on her phone. 
With a huff, Megumi rounds the table, sets his bag down on the soft grass and swings his legs over the bench and next to you. Tsumiki turns her phone to Yuuta, and your attention is back to Megumi, breaking your daifuku in half and offering a piece to him. He puts an elbow on the table, leans his cheek into his palm, a defiant expression on his face you pay no mind to—you scrunch your nose with a deceptive smile, bringing the mochi to his lips, and opening your mouth mockingly for him to follow. He blinks at you, slowly; once, twice, a third time before his head dips every so slightly, mouth a jar, letting you place the dessert between his teeth. Only after he has it in his mouth do you begin to eat your half, sparing a hand to raise your arm and pat the top of his head, “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” 
Megumi tilts his head further into his palm. “You didn’t answer my calls.” 
“When you called, I was eating lunch. It’s rude to take calls when you have company,” you defend yourself. 
“Yuuta answered my texts.”
“Yuuta is scared of you,” you chirp, “And unlike you, he cares to not have write-ups on his transcript. He keeps his physical encounters off-campus.” 
“I am not scared of Megumi,” Yuuta scoffs, leaning over to poke at your forehead, “I’m scared of Tsumiki. And I did not want to be scolded for getting blood on her new Chanel skirt.” 
Between the two of them, Yuuta was certainly the more reformed one; it only took one incident of Tsumiki pulling at his ear and scolding him about using his words instead of his fists for him to actually listen to her. Megumi couldn’t blame him, Tsumiki was hellish when she was truly angry, and he feared Tsumiki as much as the next person, but he also knew how she had a soft spot for her younger brother; a mercy that Yuuta, Yuuji, and Nobara were not privy to when their violent streaks got the best of them. 
Besides, when Tsumiki couldn’t get to him, you were there to tug on his leash and reign him in. 
“Wimp,” Tsumiki coughs, “And simp,” she taunts her brother, “We ought to pick new bodyguards in our next life.”
You laugh softly at her teasing, but still, you rest your elbow on the table to mirror Megumi’s position, “You’re right. I call dibs on Yuuji.” 
Your joke makes the others laugh, and Megumi rolls his eyes as you all chuckle. Still, he shifts to lean his head against your shoulder, sly as he knocks his head against your neck and reminds you of a simple fact: “That’s too bad. You’re stuck with me, in this life and the next.”
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naughtyjjk · 1 month ago
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hear me out... toji as a phone sex operator whispering filthy things to you through the receiver, telling you how to masturbate, what he would do to you if he were there with you in person, making you come using only his voice. the anonymity only makes you more turned on as you give up control and let toji control your body with his commands.
on the other end, toji is also touching himself, unable to resist when he hears your needy moans and how you're begging him for more. who cares about professionalism when his cock is rock hard just from imagining you following his every instruction, fucking yourself exactly as he instructs you to.
it only takes one call for you to get addicted, and you find yourself dialing the phone sex hotline every week after that. toji is always the one who picks up and he has something new planned for you every time. his voice is low and husky and his dirty talk never fails to get you aroused. and most importantly, he always takes such good care of you.
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huginsmemory · 1 month ago
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Like I get why human-Bill post canon redemption fics for Billford are common because it's fun to put Bill in that situation where he doesn't know whats going on and its a way to 'break' Bill into not being a huge asshole through learning empathy BUT I feel like also a big part of that is also people being COWARDS and not leaning into the monsterfuckery of Ford falling in love and getting it on freaky style with a triangle LIKE HE ALREADY DID.
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uravitypng · 2 years ago
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𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄?
pairing: tenya iida x reader
word count: 2.0k
a/n: this was meant to be a lot shorter but it ended up being longer and took way more time than expected so hopefully this came out. i had a chubby reader in mind writing this. i've never wrote for iida before so i hope this turned out okay! anyway i won't spoil the plot or anything other than reader gets stuck. i wrote this late at night so i didn't reread and edit it thoroughly but hopefully it should be okay! if there's any mistakes i'm sorry ‧₊˚✩‧₊˚♡‧₊˚
warnings: dub con, power dynamic, pro-hero iida, unprotected sex, teasing, over stimulation, stuckage (i think thats the kink name <3 reader gets stuck), light impact (spanking), rough sex, 18+ mdni
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Iida prides himself on his morals. Sure in the past he made a mistake involving stain but that was all in the past. However, he can't help but question his moral compass whenever he sees you, he wants to do things to you, things that he doesn't even want to admit to himself. It would be wrong though, he's your superior, you're a sidekick. The power dynamic is very clear, it would be wrong.
Whenever he sees you though it becomes so difficult for him to worry about the power dynamic when you look so pretty wearing your hero costume hugging your figure in all the right ways. It takes everything for him not to stare at you, especially when he's walking behind you and he can see your hips move as you walk and he swears he can see the outline of your underwear. Even at the new years party last year, your dress was shorter than Iida would typically deem appropriate but your plush thighs being more visible than he'd ever seen before made him keep quiet.
Iida loses all composure he has when you're patrolling together late one night, it was a quiet night and a uneventful patrol. Most of the time it was silent, Iida preferred not to talk much when patrolling just in case something happened, he liked to be alert and he took being a pro-hero very seriously. You never complained about the lack of talking it was always a comfortable silence walking beside him.
You heard a suspicious noise and decided to check it out, it turned out to be a cat but you wished you knew that before you tried to go between a gate. One second you were following the noise with Iida behind you, but as you heard it running away you began pursuing it, and whatever the noise was was on the other side. It was too tall and there was no way to climb up before the person or suspicious thing gets away. You wouldn't be doing your job correctly if you just left. The bars looked big enough to squeeze through, so you did, as soon as you did a cat emerged and realised this whole time a cat you were chasing a cat. You hear Iida behind you, he hadn't used his quirk, you realise that's because he realised there was no point. He knew it must of been a cat. he's just too good at his job.
You chuckle, as you look at the cat. "It was just a cat."
"Yes, i thought as much."
You chuckle again as you lean out the bar attempting to pull yourself out but failing. You try again harder this time, trying to wiggle out of the bars. This was incredibly embarrassing, at least for you. Iida noticed your predicament but stood on the spot as he watched you try and move. He couldn't help but look as you tried to get out, your ass shaking as a consequence and your whole body jerked side to side.
"This is so embarrassing, I can't get out. please help me out a bit Iida."
Before he even knew what he was doing he spoke, "what's in it for me?" He started berating himself for such an inappropriate question, maybe there's a way he can recover from this, he feels like a pervert. It was an immediate response without thinking and he doesn't know what will happen now, his reputation will surely be ruined.
Out of all the things he was preparing himself for he did not expect you to burst out laughing. 'Thank god, there's a way to recover this, it will just be a inappropriate joke. It's still bad but it's better than the alternative,' Iida thought to himself.
However he was even less prepared for the next thing that came out of your mouth, "I mean, you are right. It wouldn't be fair of me to not give you anything in return." He practically hears your grin.
Iida's mind was filling with so many thoughts, mainly- 'Fuck. This is bad. There's no way I can keep thinking like this but she was being so suggestive. maybe she was joking too? fuck, I want her so bad.' He looks over at you and sees you one more time. You're stuck there, you're not getting out anytime soon, he can do whatever he wants and you can't stop him, you look so hot. he makes up his mind as he sees you continue to try and wiggle from the bars, at least trying to get into a more comfortable position one that's not digging into your ribs.
He doesn't even say anything to you as he walks behind you and starts touching your ass, grabbing it, and making you gasp in surprise. You have a feeling he's not a talker during sex. His hands feel so warm on you, even through your hero costume. Iida surprised you again as he ripped off your hero costume, undoing the zip down the side, starting up at you neck and pulling all the way down, ripping it in the process. You shiver from the cold, only being covered by your underwear but Iida warms you up almost immediately by running his hands up and down your body. The logical part in Iida's mind tells him that this shouldn't be happening, especially in public where anyone could see but you looked so pretty and soft and felt so warm he couldn't stop himself at this point.
He kisses your back and kneads any part of your body that he can get his hands on you. Typically you'd feel self conscious from someone giving this much focused attention on your body but it's so hard to when Iida's treating you with such care, like kissing your stretch marks and tightly grabbing onto your hips. Iida's still mostly silent as he explores your body, leaving soft kisses in his wake. "Even softer than I imagined." He mumbles, he probably didn't even realise he said it out loud, either way it made your face heat up.
One of his hands makes their way down, grazing one of his fingers over your underwear, getting harder than he was already as he hears you moan at the action as you try to move closer to his touch, all in vain of course. He's decided this is his favourite thing ever, touching you but not enough to get you off, you want more but you won't get it, he has complete control over your pleasure. He focuses his whole attention on this idea, one of hands circling your nipples over your bra, and with his other hand he's still hasn't touched you skin to skin either. You start whining, you don't mean too but its all too much, you need him to touch you but he doesn't. You don't know how long this goes on for, it could be 5 minutes it could be half an hour all you know is you're getting louder, begging more, and getting more wet.
Iida finally decides to take pity on you and drags down your underwear, as soon as he makes direct contact with your clit you whimper at the stimulation. This whole time he's getting a serious kick out of controlling your pleasure. You're so wet, he knows that he could probably just fuck you without you getting hurt. He realises that he can do exactly that, it's not like you can stop him.
He discards his hero costume as quickly as possible, never regretting how finicky his costume is this much before.
You try your best to turn your head around trying to see what Iida looks like underneath all his clothes, you've always wondered, but you'll have to keep wondering as no mater how hard you try and turn your head it's not working and you can't see him. Because of that you didn't realise how big his dick was going to be but he suddenly plunged into you, hurting you with how big he is and the stretch being painful.
Iida gave you no time to recover and adjust to his size, he knows he's bigger than average, but right know he just has to be buried in your pussy and start moving. The air leaves your lungs as he thrusts into you quickly, hard and fast, the pace knocking the air out of your lungs. He grabs hold of your love handles, you know they'll bruise but you quite like that idea. Your body moves slightly pushing the bars, still stuck, but he see's your breasts bouncing between the bars, making him increase his pace to see your body move and jiggle more.
The stimulation he's been giving you all night is all to much, it's so much and it feels so good. You're chanting his name over and over again. He abruptly stops his thrusts making you try and move yourself back onto him, he pressed his hand down your back trapping you even more so you can't even try to wriggle out. "it's sir to you." You could definitely do that, he still doesn't move. He harshly spanking you he speaks in an authoritative tone, "do I make myself clear?"
"Uh-huh"
"Good girl."
You really hope he starts moving again because you think you're about to cry if he doesn't. Luckily for you he does, but unluckily that still doesn't stop you from crying, your eyes watery, tears falling down your face from Iida's touch. Your chants of 'Iida' turned into chants of 'sir' and now it's hiccups of 'sir' between your gasps and whimpers.
Its a surprise for both of you when you start asking Iida if you cum, you've never asked permission to cum before, you'd honestly never dream of it but it just feels so right with Iida. Iida wasn't expecting the request but he wasn't one to turn it down, he wanted to feel you clench around his cock. He takes one of his hands off your hips and reaches to your clit, "go on then, be good for me," just like that, as soon as he gives the slightest attention to your clit and give you permission you come undone, cumming around his cock so hard that your eyesight goes white for a second due to the pleasure with the most intense orgasm you think you've ever had. Iida fucks you through it, keeping his pace, groaning as he feels you clench up around him.
You start whining more and squirming due to the over stimulation. Everywhere is so sensitive. "I'm about to cum, you can give me another one right?" He asks in a ragged voice. You weren't really sure what he was referring to, all you could do was feel the extreme sensitivity and pleasure. "I'm taking that as a yes." He reaches down to your clit and starts to touch you again, it's so sensitive and it hurts.
"No, no, fuck Iida its too much." You near enough scream out. Iida ignores you and keeps going, however he doesn't have to long, as you soon cum for a second time just as intense as the last one with your body shaking, barely having any energy left.
Iida feels you around you tighten up one more time as he quickly pulls out and cums on your ass, watching his cum start to drip down your ass down to your soft thighs.
"Iida can you get me out now?" You ask but your voice seems quiet and he starts worrying. He gently helps you out and looks at you. You look so exhausted, you've got tear stains all down your face and you're completely naked. After seeing this his rational brain starts up again and he realises how fucked he is. He just ruined his hero career...
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q1ngqve · 9 months ago
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your recent jing yuan post got me thinking..... reader accidentally calling jy daddy in bed
he (to his own surprise) would def be into it,, HE WOULD TRY NOT TO MAKE IT THAT OBVIOUS THO, teasing u instead, almost making fun of you(lovingly)
i luv mean jy,,, want him P̶L̶E̶A̶S̶E̶ ̶P̶L̶E̶A̶S̶E̶ ̶P̶L̶E̶A̶S̶E̶ ̶P̶L̶E̶A̶S̶E̶ ̶P̶L̶S̶
it was an accident! he just feels too good :( and there’s this aura around him that just SCREAMS daddy <3
HE’D SUDDENLY STOP THRUSTING AND LOOK DOWN AT YOU, DON’T WORRY THOUGH, HE’S JUST CONFUSED BECAUSE SOMETHING ABOUT YOU CALLING HIM DADDY TURNS HIM TF ON!!!!!!! but you’re so right he will definitely tease you first before admitting to it 🤭 (even though you can feel him stretching you out even more)
“daddy? really? you’re into that?”
and he wouldn’t fuck you until you admit to him that, yeah, you’re into it :(
LAUGHS WHEN YOU FINALLY SAY IT, EYES FLITTING ACROSS THE ROOM TRYING TO AVOID HIS GAZE BECAUSE IT’S JUST SO EMBARRASSING!!!! you’ve always only just called him daddy when you were touching yourself, you did not expect it to slip out when he’s actually fucking you
he’d grab at your chin, tilting it up slightly to force you to look at him! tells you to call him daddy again! (so mean 🥺ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི) asks you to speak up because he can’t hear you (he definitely can)
kisses you harshly when you do and practically DRILLS himself into you! if only you could see the heart in his eyes as you cry out “daddy!” from how hard he’s making you come around him :(
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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year ago
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SO SCARLET (IT WAS MAROON)
two years ago, eddie munson got everything he’d ever wanted - except you. when fate brings the two of you back together, can he get the answers to all the questions you left him with?
☆ tropes: second chance romance, exes to lovers, modern au
☆ warnings: strong language, angst, alcohol/drug consumption, eventual smut, minors dni
☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader
spotify playlist
ao3
MASTERLIST:
PROLOGUE (the original 'one shot')*
CHAPTER ONE: CLOSURE
CHAPTER TWO: DON’T YOU
CHAPTER THREE: ALL TOO WELL
CHAPTER FOUR: CASTLES CRUMBLING
CHAPTER FIVE: HOLY GROUND
CHAPTER SIX: IS IT OVER NOW?
CHAPTER SEVEN: QUESTION...?
CHAPTER EIGHT: LOML*
CHAPTER NINE: BACK TO DECEMBER
CHAPTER TEN: RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME
CHAPTER ELEVEN: LET'S GO (BATTLE)
CHAPTER TWELVE: OUT OF THE WOODS
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: THE SMALLEST (WO)MAN WHO EVER LIVED
more coming soon!
chapters with smut/sexual themes marked with *
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geraskierfanficprompts · 7 months ago
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Prompt 34
Jaskier is a succubus/incubus (Cause some sources say it's based on the entity's gender, and some say the name is based on the gender of the people they have sex with, so if he's a succubus or if he's an incubus is up to you, darling <3) Jaskier hasn't told Geralt of this, of course. He'd rather not add another thing to Geralt's seemingly endless list of things he hates about Jaskier. Jaskier jumps from bed to bed in towns, because he physically feeds on the passion of his little midnight trysts he has with lonely unsatisfied women in town. He'd go for men too, but doesn't need more mobs chasing him out of town and annoying Geralt. Geralt finally snaps at him one night, fed up with getting chased out of three fucking towns in a row. And the worst part isn't even the fact they keep getting thrown out. It's when Jaskier comes to him, ruffled, kiss-bruised, and reeking of sex he had with someone else. Jaskier, scared of Geralt leaving him behind, promises that he'll volunteer to have a dry-spell. No more cuckolding husbands for Jaskier, no sirree! However, being a succubus/incubus means that the longer he goes without some passion, the more weak he gets, and he starts to fall ill. Geralt grows increasingly worried. One night at camp, Geralt kisses Jaskier's forehead when Jaskier is asleep and he watches as color visibly returns to Jaskier's face, and Geralt's medallion hums. Geralt is now suspicious Jaskier has been cursed. Jaskier returns to looking peaky by the next morning. That is, until Geralt drags him into a hug on a hunch, and sure enough, Jaskier looks better. The more romantic the gesture, the more it seems to help Jaskier. Jaskier finally confesses what he is, bawling and sure that Geralt will banish him at the least and kill him at the most. Geralt is horrified, and hugs his friend close, promising he'd never do either. (BECAUSE THE MOUNTAIN BREAKUP SHOULD'VE NEVER LEFT THE WRITING ROOM) Geralt offers to have sex, wanting Jaskier to be healthy again, but Jaskier doesn't want the only time he gets to sleep with the love of his life to be when Geralt doesn't even love him back. He says as such, and Geralt stumbles his way through confessing that Jaskier's feelings are requited, and Geralt loves him too.
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becca-e-barnes · 1 year ago
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Thinking so much about clingy, mutually possessive, filthy sex and how much I just need that rn
The kind of sex where you and Bucky just can't feel close enough to each other. You physically can't get any closer than you are, his thick cock buried so deep inside you but you still need more of him. He has nothing left to give you and you're glad because if he was any longer, you wouldn't be able to take the rest.
You're panting against his neck, whining out your frustration each time he slides home into your warm, wet body. His own groans are low, rumbling from his throat and hanging in the humid air of the bedroom you share.
"You know I can't fucking resist you. I can't." Bucky moans, grasping one of your wrists, guiding it between your bodies, encouraging you to play with yourself while he fucks you.
"I can't say no to you. Fuck, I'm yours." You hardly hear what he's saying over the obscene, wet sounds of your body accommodating his.
Your fingertips rub against your slick clit and the sensation is almost too much. "You're mine." You whine against his neck, using your free hand to claw at his back, driving him impossibly closer to you.
There's something reassuring about the feeling of his skin on yours. It's hot and sweaty but it's so comforting being naked with him, enjoying the pleasure of each others' bodies. You don't feel vulnerable communicating your pleasure to him; you feel understood.
"I am." He groans, eyes fluttering shut, lost in the way your body clings to him. "All yours. And you're mine, aren't you? My good girl."
It's a relentless build up, each stroke taking you a little further than the last and at some point, the band just has to snap.
"I am." You whine, barely able to manage any more words than that.
"You feel like Heaven. You were made for me. This warm, tight little pussy fits me perfectly." His body still isn't close enough to you, not that there's any way you could physically feel more of him.
"You take me so well, you know that? You take every drop of cum and you still beg me for more. Fuckin' love it." Just the very mention of Bucky pumping his release into you makes your walls flutter, dreaming of the feeling of his thick load shooting into you.
"I can't last like this." You hear him mutter and you're almost glad because you're not far off either. "Can't last when I can see that pretty face." His eyes meet yours and he pulls you in for a kiss that stifles your moans for a few seconds.
"Bucky, please." You groan when he pulls back, rubbing yourself just a little too quickly now that you've gotten desperate.
"Go on sweetheart, let me feel you cum for me." It only takes a few more strokes for your high to take over, pleasure rippling through you in a way that leaves your legs shaking.
You almost miss the start of Bucky's release, given how distracted you are by your own but the unmistakable throbbing of him inside you tells you he's reached his own peak if his moans didn't give it away.
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littlexdeaths · 7 months ago
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hi mari!!
first of all i LOVE the way you write! i love how you write eddie so much and i had a request for whenever you get the time and if you want to write it… so, i saw this spicy video (iykwim) and there was this thing that honestly made everything so much hotter. when the guy took off his girls panties he hung them on himself (he was already hard obviously) and he then f*cked her like that until they finished even on different positions……. i was speechless i have never seen anything like it and it was hot as hell!
so i was thinking of maybe you writing something like that where eddie surprises the reader by hanging her panties/thong on his hard pack and doing the reader like that. i just thought that was such an eddie/dilf!eddie thing to do i had to tell you hehe tell me what you think👀🤭
hi darling!!
and thank you so much, that really means a lot to me 🥹
also, im so sorry this definitely isn’t what you asked for, but this thought is just stuck in my head and i had to get it out. besides i needed something to make me giggle today.
so i hope this okay 🥺
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18+ ONLY MDNI
warnings: eddie is the biggest dork of all time, allusions to oral & sex, dick talk lmao
“Eddie, take them off please?” you whine, as he continues to brush his fingers over the elastic band.
He’s been at this for the last twenty minutes, touching you over your now soaked underwear. Before teasingly running his fingers back up along the seam.
And in turn driving you absolutely mad.
His eyes meet yours, mischief clouding his irises as he hooks his fingers beneath the elastic. He tugs them down slowly, letting his fingers graze along your thighs as he goes.
Once they are finally off you breathe a sigh of relief, spreading your legs wider for him. But he’s not looking at you now. Instead his gaze is focused on the pair of panties he has hooked around his index finger.
He swings them in a circle, ignoring your groan of annoyance, “Come on, Ed, what are you doing?”
If he hadn’t been teasing you for so long you might find his actions funny, but right now all you wanted was his face buried between your thighs.
“Just… hold on a second, babe.” He says, attempting to hold back a laugh. “I wanna try something.”
You watch in confusion as he suddenly pulls his hardened cock from the confines of his boxers. That confusion turns to mock horror as he hooks your panties around his shaft.
Eddie places his hands on his hips as he begins to swing them in a circle. The article of clothing begins to swing slightly, but it’s his cock that is gaining more momentum.
“Seriously, what are you doing?” You can’t help but laugh at the utter ridiculous display in front of you.
Your boyfriend peeks up at you from under his lashes, as he continues to swing his dick around even faster. His tongue pokes out from between his teeth, as a familiar look of concentration passes over his features.
“What’s it look like, sweetheart? Tryin’ to see if I can swing ‘em in a circle.”
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ohbo-ohno · 1 year ago
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i'll eat you whole (ghost x soap)
summary: After a terrible accident during a race, Johnny is left abandoned and lost in the forests of Alaska. While looking for shelter, he’s cornered by a bear.
word count: 10.8k
cw: dark fic!!!, noncon sex, dog hybrid johnny & bear hybrid simon, kidnapping, trans ftm soap, degradation, forced feminization, breeding kink, bloody kisses, spanking, size difference
read on ao3 - see the pinterest board
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Johnny hadn’t meant to get lost. He’d meant to win the goddamn Iditarod instead of coming in second for the fourth year in a row, but nothing in his life has gone to plan recently.
Considering how long he’d been training for this stupid fucking race, you’d think his parents would’ve had him running a half decent musher’s sled - you break your ankle one time and suddenly your parents (your managers when you’re an unlucky bastard like him) act like you’ll never run again, sell you off to the highest bidder, and wipe their hands of you. 
Sure Johnny’s injury still flares with pain sometimes, but he’s perfectly capable of gritting his teeth and running through it, like a real racer. He’d even made a full recovery - cleared by a doctor and everything. It’s bullshit he’d gotten stuck with whoever put up the most money.
This year, the highest bidder happened to be some brat human who thought using daddy’s money to buy the best sled and dog shifters meant he could win the Iditarod. Idiot. A bigoted idiot, too, considering how often he’d spoken to Johnny and all the other shifters like they’re actual dogs when they’d shifted into their dog forms. Johnny had been one expectant snap from biting straight through the dumbass’s hand.
Though for as much of an idiot as he was, the brat hadn’t deserved to die. And he especially didn’t deserve to take 13 other people down with him.
Johnny can’t help but shiver at the memory of their deaths. He’d been the only one to survive, and it was pure luck. He’d never been so close to death.
Their musher had taken a shortcut - an unknown, unexplored shortcut - and it cost the rest of them their lives. Johnny can recall the exact moment he realized they were running on packed ice instead of frozen dirt, the way every dog had tried to stop as they all had the same realization, had heard the same deafening crack.
In the end, Johnny was the only one able to sink his claws into the top of the ice, the only one able to scramble out of the freezing lake and back onto solid ground. He’d been quick enough to get the little booties off his paws, lucky enough to flail in the exact right direction. 
He’d tried to pull his fellow racers up, but hadn’t been able to get a firm hold on any of them. They hadn’t been able to calm their panic enough to think, and he hadn’t been strong enough to lift them up with all the struggling. In the end, all thirteen of them died, floating beneath the thick layer of ice.
He’s lost other shifters on the race before, seen frozen corpses as he’s run, but he already knows that the image of his teammates drowning is one he’s going to see for the rest of his life. The whites of their eyes, the cries so pained they nearly sounded human, the scratches and thumps from beneath the ice as the current took them… already, he sees it all when he blinks.
He’d gotten off the ice as quickly as possible, stumbled into an unfamiliar forest on four paws. Now he treks through a frozen forest, body so wracked with shivers that he can hardly walk straight. Every exhale blinds him for a moment, the clouds of white air blocking his sight of everything else white in the area.
He has no idea what to do. Instinct tells him to keep moving, that he can’t give up, but he has no idea how to get back to the track. Between the “shortcut” and the general unfamiliarity of the area, he’s got no way of knowing if he’s even going in the right direction or if he’s just wandering further away. His best hope is that they send helicopters for wounded racers early, and that one spots him from the sky and picks him up. 
Johnny’s not an idiot, he knows the odds of that happening - or of him being alive to see it happen - are slim to none. What he really needs to do is try and find somewhere warm, but that doesn’t exactly seem possible in the frozen tundra of Alaska.
His pessimistic musings are interrupted by a sound - a growl, to his right and from an uncomfortably close distance.
Johnny nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees the bear only a few meters away.
It’s a big beast even on all fours, has to be nearly eight feet tall at the shoulder. Johnny can’t see much but the shape of it, but that’s enough for him to know he needs to get away as soon as possible. 
He’s taken safety training courses for being lost in the wilderness his whole life, knows that if you spot a polar bear you’re supposed to move away as slowly as possible without looking away, never making any sudden or aggressive moves. So Johnny lowers himself a little closer to the ground, can’t help the soft hiss of air through his teeth at the touch of cold ice against his sensitive belly, and shuffles back as slowly as he can with stiff limbs.
If his vision isn’t failing him, the bear tilts its head. It occurs to Johnny that the bear might be a shifter, but if that’s true he should know to put the pieces together that the husky in the snow is probably a lost racer, and the polite thing to do would be to show he’s a shifter too. Of course, there’s always the chance he’s not polite.
Regardless, Johnny continues his slow shuffles backwards. His heartrate kicks up as the bear moves towards him, but it's mannerisms read more curious than aggressive so Johnny forces himself to lay still and not bolt in another direction. He wouldn’t make it very far anyway, not with the chill seeping into his bones the way it is.
The bear’s even more terrifying from flat on the ground, so tall that it blocks out the sun when it stands over Johnny. He bites back a whimper, fights the instinctual urge to show his belly to a clearly stronger animal.
The bear snuffles along his spine, its warm breath sinking into Johnny’s soaked fur. He feels a tongue poke out to stroke against a small cut on his left side, where either a piece of ice or another shifter's claws had gotten him. It’s not bleeding much anymore - Johnny can hardly even feel the sting with the rest of the cold - but the bear licks it several times anyway, almost like it’s cleaning the small wound.
Johnny’s careful to lay perfectly still, nothing more than his ear twitching as the bear continues its perusal. It’s oddly thorough, even goes so far as to try and force its snout underneath his ribs to try and flip him over. Johnny digs his claws into the snow and goes stiff as he can, and a moment later the bear huffs and moves on.
Once it’s finished looking for whatever it seems to want, it starts to shove at him again. This time it’s pushier, and manages to actually lift Johnny’s bottom half off the ground with a particularly rough shove to his hindlegs.
Eventually Johnny has to stand on his own four legs or he’ll be sent ass over teakettle. He moves a few feet in the direction the bear is nudging him, then settles back into the snow with his ears pressed flat.
That gets him an angry huff, one that has his hackles rising. He shuffles another few steps, then drops again, hoping the damn beast will give up whatever it wants - clearly it’s not dinner, or Johnny would already be torn to shreds. But the fact that he’s still got all of his limbs doesn’t make him any less nervous around the absolute behemoth of a bear.
After his third time moving a few feet and dropping, the bear seems to give up on him. It snorts out an aggravated noise and noses the thick fur at the back of Johnny’s neck before grabbing with his teeth and lifting.
All thoughts of no sudden movements fly out of Johnny’s head and he jerks, yelping at the sudden change, and nearly tears himself away from the bear until there’s a snarl above his head.
The sound speaks to a deep part of Johnny’s hind-brain, the animal part of him that commands go still when met with a predator who outclasses him in every way. Even if he wanted to fight and struggle, his body decides to go limp in the bear’s jaws and he’s left feeling like a scruffed pup. 
The bear walks for a long time, Johnny’s body swaying in his hold. Eventually he takes them to a large cave in the side of a nearby mountain - another point for the shifter theory, since even Johnny knows that polar bears tend to burrow underground rather than make their dens in a cave.
He struggles just a bit when the bear walks into the cave, uncomfortable with being so defenseless in a more closed off area. But another of those menacing growls and his brain works against him, body going limp. There’s a rumble against his shoulder where it rests against the bear’s chest, and Johnny idly wonders if bears purr.
The path through the cave is long and winding, the walls slowly getting closer and closer but never so close that the bear can’t comfortably walk through them.
Finally, after what feels like hours to Johnny’s frostbitten brain, the bear steps into a more open cave. There are furs covering the stone floor from wall to wall, several layered over each other in certain spots, and a roaring fire in the center of the room.
That confirms his shifter theory. No true bear is skinning its prey for their pelts, or starting a fire in their cave. The knowledge that he’s (likely) not going to be eaten allows the last few hints of tension to melt from Johnny’s bones.
He flops like dead weight when the bear drops him without warning in front of the fire. He whines a little, shoots a glare at the beast and rubs a paw over his head in discomfort. He gets a snort in response, and then the bear curves himself around Johnny’s back, making sure to angle him so his other side is facing the fire.
As much as Johnny hates to put so much faith into a stranger, he can’t help but feel safe surrounded by the bear’s warmth. He knows he’s an idiot to trust so quickly, but surely no one with bad intentions would drag him all the way across the forest and deep into their cave? It would’ve been easier to just ignore him completely.
So, against his better judgment, Johnny allows the warmth to lull him to sleep. He rests his head on one of the bear’s paws as a pillow, gives them an affectionate huff before letting himself drift off.
———————————————————————
Johnny wakes up, hours later, in his human skin.
That’s normal - depending on his dreams, he’ll subconsciously shift between human and dog as he sleeps. It’s not odd for Johnny to wake up in completely different places after sleepwalking either, so waking up to feel his human cheek against warm furs isn’t a surprise.
The large hands running over him, the weight resting over his thighs? That’s a surprise.
He blinks his eyes open slowly. His whole body feels soft and soaked in warmth, and the idea of moving seems nearly impossible. He can tell he’s still fully clothed - a pair of mukluks on his feet, his arctic bib and long underwear, his ruff jacket zipped up tight, all the layers beneath pressing his tail down uncomfortably. The only things missing are his mittens and his scarf, but his hands feel unnaturally warm without them anyway.
The cave is dark and the walls are far closer than he remembers them being, the ceiling covered in dancing shadows that almost make Johnny forget where he is until he lifts his head a bit. Instead of the wide open cave he’d fallen asleep in, he’s laying in a much smaller alcove that traps all the heat in its walls.
The bear is definitely a shifter - either that or the human straddling Johnny’s legs is an incredible hunter with complete resistance to the cold. 
The fact that he’s a naked human clicks a moment later in Johnny’s head.
“Wha’...” he moans, shifting and trying to move his elbows beneath him and sit up. He’s stopped by a sudden heavy weight over his chest, the man dropping his elbows beside Johnny’s head and giving him his weight to keep him down.
It works, Johnny’s forced back to the fur-covered floor if only because he wasn’t expecting the sudden weight on his chest. The man growls low in his chest, a pure bear sound that vibrates through Johnny.
The shifter’s handsome as a man. Broad jaw, crooked nose, thin lips, pale skin decorated in scars - just Johnny’s type when he’s looking for a night of quick fun. He’s a big motherfucker too, Johnny’s not a small man but he’s dwarfed beneath the bear. 
“Puppy,” the bear gruffs down at him, severe blue eyes set in a glare. He’s intimidating, but the two fluffy white ears twitching in his blonde hair almost make Johnny’s half-asleep brain want to smile.
Then what he’d said registers, and he scowls instead.
“Puppy? Who the fuck are you calling puppy, you big bastard?” He pushes at the bear’s shoulders, grunts when he doesn’t move even an inch. “Get the fuck off of me.”
The bear listens, leans back but keeps one solid hand laid on Johnny’s chest - the damn thing is massive, his thumb and pinky nearly touching each nipple. 
“Still,” he says, his voice so low it’s almost difficult to understand.
Johnny doesn’t listen, keeps squirming beneath the man. “What are you-?”
He huffs, shakes his head a bit. “Quiet.”
Johnny grunts, glaring up at him. “Can you say more than one word at once, or are you gonna keep doin’ your best caveman impression?”
The bear’s upper lip curls and he pushes on Johnny’s chest, knocking the air out right out of his chest. “Quiet. Be a good mate and listen.”
Oh, fuck no.
“Mate? Oh, you’re out of your mind, fuckin’ bastard. I’m not your goddamn ma-“
He’s cut off by another growl and a harsh press of lips against his own. The bear’s weight is back over him, heavy and suffocating and forcing him down with his chest and his face.
Johnny snarls into the mockery of a kiss, lifts his hands to try and shove the bear off by his shoulders. It’s fruitless, and the bear only licks into his mouth when Johnny tries to speak again. His tongue is thick and warm, pressing up against the roof of Johnny’s mouth and between his lips and teeth.
He growls at that, bites down hard as soon as the intruding tongue is back between his teeth. His sharp canines do the trick, and the taste of blood bursts into his mouth. Johnny’s eyes are wide open and he sees the exact moment the bear registers what he’s done, the way his face contorts itself in anger.
The growl he gets in return almost makes Johnny feel like the ground beneath him is shaking, it’s deafening and vibrates through all of his clothes and right to his ribs.
The bear bites him back in retaliation, leans up just enough to lock his own sharp teeth in Johnny’s bottom lip and pulls upwards. It gets Johnny jerking beneath him, lifting up as much as possible to try and alleviate the pressure.
He can’t help but squeeze his eyes shut at the sharp pain, ears pressed flat to his head and just barely managing to keep a whimper locked in his throat. He almost feels like his lip is going to tear right off, his entire torso lifted from the furs as he tries to follow the bear. It fucking hurts.
He can feel blood drip down his chin, a bit into his mouth, and can't resist the whine this time at the taste. He blinks his eyes open and looks up at the bear’s glare, prays that the wetness gathering in his eyes doesn’t turn to tears.
The bear drops him without warning, and Johnny can’t help but cry out when his head cracks against the ground. Even with the fur beneath him, the stone floor is brutal when he can’t catch himself. If he weren’t pinned so securely he’d curl up, cover his head with his arms until the pain faded.
As it is he tries to throw his arms over his face, but they’re quickly pinned above his head by one massive paw. The man’s other hand rests over Johnny’s throat, his palm pushing right against his pounding pulse.
“Mate,” the man growls again, nose nearly brushing Johnny’s when he bends over. “You were wandering around my territory, you belong to me.”
“That’s bullshit,” Johnny spits, lip throbbing. “I was fuckin’ lost, how was I supposed to know this is your territory?”
The bear smiles cruelly. “Not my problem, puppy. You were wandering, alone, in my territory, and now you’re mine. No point in arguin’. I’m keeping you.”
“My arse there’s no point in arguin’!” Johnny thrashes as much as he can beneath the bear’s weight, back arching as he tries to get enough leverage by planting his feet to throw the man off of him. “You can’t just decide I’m your mate! I don’t even fuckin’ know you!”
The man chuckles lowly, pressing his pelvis against Johnny’s to hold him against the furs. “You’re not goin’ anywhere. You can bitch and moan as much as you want, but you’re gonna stay right here in my den, safe and warm. Keep you stuffed full of my cum, maybe that’ll help you calm down, hm? Need a nice load in your guts, pup?”
Johnny’s eyes fly open at that, his heartbeat kicking up another notch as his squirming grows more panicked. “What the- no, what the fuck? Get off, I’m serious, I’ll-”
“You’ll what?” The bear bites the air just in front of Johnny’s sluggishly bleeding lip, the click of his teeth loud and threatening. “You’ll try and kill me? You can’t even get out from under me, pup.”
Johnny growls at that, bares his teeth and on pure instinct leans up just enough to bite the bear’s throat. The skin is warm between his teeth, and he bites down as hard as he can, the animal part of him wanting to taste blood. 
Instead of the man lurching back and away, as Johnny had assumed and hoped he would, he groans and falls further onto Johnny. To his own horror, he can feel the man hardening against his thigh, even through all the layers of clothing between them.
He bites harder, growls and squeezes his eyes shut while he shakes his head like he would to a rabbit he’d just caught hunting. It doesn’t do anything to the bear, only has him working his hips against Johnny. The moans rumble so loudly in his throat that Johnny’s teeth feel like they’re vibrating in his mouth and leave his gums and tongue tingling.
The bear’s hand moves from his throat up to his face, cupping one cheek in his palm. His hand is so large that his thumb rests on the cleft of Johnny’s chin while his fingers cup the back of his skull, nearly wrapping around to the other side. He doesn’t even try to pull Johnny off, only holds him securely in place.
That gets a little confused noise from Johnny, and when the larger man doesn’t do anything but seemingly appreciate his attack he lets go and reverts to trying to struggle away. The spot he’d been biting glows bright red in the firelight, a clear ring of indentions and individual teeth marks so deep that they’d be impossible to mistake as anything else.
To his own frustration, the bear looks pleased above him. “Already claimin’ me, huh?”
Johnny sputters, rearing away from the man and his grinding hips. “Claiming? Fucking attacking, you goddamn oaf.”
Another rumbling laugh. “You think that’s an attack?” The bear’s hand shifts to give Johnny’s cheek a condescending pat. “That’s real cute, pup. Don’t think I’ll mind so much if you wanna keep attackin’ me, then.”
The nonchalance has Johnny’s temper flaring more than it already was, his booted feet scrabbling against the furs as he tries to rip his wrists away from the man. “You fucking arsehole-!” He grunts when his hands are freed without warning, the weight over his chest disappearing. 
He’s quick to throw himself back and away from the bear, hitting the wall of the cave and bringing his knees up to his chest.
The bear somehow looks bigger than he had hovering over Johnny. He blocks the one opening out of the small cave, the roaring fire casting a warm glow around his body. His skin is pale, nearly snow white, and covered in a myriad of scars - claw marks, bites, what might be arrow wounds, what are definitely bullet wounds, all sorts of markings covering him from head to toe. 
The way he sits - knelt back on his ankles, knees spread wide with his arms crossed - leaves his cock on display. Hard as Johnny might try not to look, it’s right there. He can’t exactly avoid it.
His cock is thick and ruddy, rock hard despite the little stimulation he’s gotten from himself or Johnny. It curves straight up toward his stomach, nearly touching the bear’s belly button. If Johnny had to bet, he’d guess his fingers wouldn’t touch if he grabbed around the shaft. His balls hang low and heavy between his legs, and Johnny can trace a vein on the underside of his shaft even from several feet away.
He has to fight to tear his eyes away from the bear’s lower half. The man’s got another thing coming if he thinks he’s getting that weapon anywhere near any of Johnny’s holes.
The bear’s wearing a small smirk when they lock eyes and Johnny’s cheeks go red at being caught staring.
“No need to be embarrassed, puppy,” he chuckles, shifting to rest more fully on his heels. “You can look all you want. Gonna be inside you real soon, might as well get used to it.”
Johnny scowls at that, pushing himself further into the brick wall. His ears twitch where they’re pointed forward, and he has to make a conscious effort to keep them from pinning flat to his scalp. “In your goddamn dreams. You’re not putting anythin’ inside of me.”
The man’s smirk grows. “That a challenge?”
“It’s fucking true! I’m not letting some hermit in the middle of nowhere fuck me! We’re not goddamn mates, you’re just some freak who found me in the forest after the worst goddamned day of my life, that doesn’t give you any right to-”
“Alright,” the bear sighs heavily, speaking over Johnny’s continued ranting. “Don’t get yourself so worked up.” He leans forward, arms uncrossing and ignoring the way Johnny jerks away.
“What’re you-? Hey!” He shouts when the bear grabs his ankle, tugging firmly so his leg is laid flat, then working to loosen the laces keeping his boots tight. “What do you think you’re doing?!”
He tries to kick the bear in the chest with his free foot, but it’s batted away like nothing more than an annoying fly. “Calm down,” the man grunts, finally getting the first boot undone and tossing both it and his thermal socks over his shoulder, then grabbing Johnny’s other foot and working on it. “Need to get you out of all these damn layers. Has it even occurred to you you shouldn’t be out in the snow if you need all this with you?” He looks strangely disapproving as he gets the other boot off.
“No,” Johnny grunts, wriggling like a fish on a line as the man moves up to his jacket. “Because I don’t take advice from fucking kidnappers who live in caves!”
The man grunts as he starts unzipping Johnny’s jacket, ignoring the hands desperately trying to shove him off. “You will now. You’ll listen to your mate when he tells you to do something, won’t you?”
“No!” Johnny bellows, red in the face from anger. The laugh he gets in response only has him shouting again, his struggles hindered as the man yanks his jacket off and temporarily gets his arms stuck. “I’m not gonna listen to shit you say!”
“Oh, you will,” the bear rumbles. It sounds more like a promise than a threat. “You’ll learn that things will go easier for you when you listen.”
“Oh will they?” Johnny snarls sarcastically, baring his teeth when the man tucks his jacket to the side and starts to work on his arctic bib. 
“Yes.”
“No! They won’t! Because I’m not fucking staying here! And will you quit trying to get me fucking naked?!”
The bear huffs a laugh, pulling the top half of the bib down so it hangs over his thick pants, leaving just a long-sleeved shirt on his torso. His tail unfurls beneath the shirt, folded uncomfortably beneath his body. “You’ll overheat in all these layers. The den is more than warm enough to keep you comfortable, no need for your silly human clothes.”
“There is a need!” Johnny grouses, finally lifting his foot enough to plant it firmly on the bear’s chest and keep him back, even for just a moment. “It’s my need to keep myself covered from a pervert like you!”
“Pervert, freak, hermit, kidnapper… not very kind names for your mate, pup,” the bear hums, one hand lifting to hold Johnny’s ankle loosely and running his thumb over the top of his foot. “The locals call me Ghost. But you can call me Simon.”
Johnny scowls again, the expression carved deep into his face at this point. “I’ll call you whatever I fuckin’ want.” He runs through his knowledge of local legends mentally, but the name Ghost doesn’t ring a single bell. If he’s actually known at all, it can’t be by much more than one or two tiny towns. 
“Sure you will,” the man smiles, leans forward into Johnny’s space and tightens his grip on his ankle. “I’ll call you whatever I want, too - mate, puppy, mutt, bitch, hole, fucktoy…”
Johnny’s sure steam must be coming out of his ears as he pulls his leg back and kicks the bear - Simon - solidly in the chest. It doesn’t even make him flinch, and Johnny only manages to frustrate himself more, ears straight up in his anger. “Oi, fuck you! I’m a fucking person, not just some thing for you to take and keep, you big bastard!”
“Take and keep and fuck,” Simon corrects, the grin on his face sharp and mean. He shoves Johnny’s foot out of the way, crawls forward until he can lean both hands on either side of Johnny’s head and block his view of anything else. “Now, what should I call you, hm?”
“Nothin’,” Johnny growls, ducking his head low to avoid being nose-to-nose with the man. He’s so hot in close proximity like this, it’s almost suffocating. “You should let me go.”
“Let you go?” Ghost purrs, one hand moving from the wall to Johnny’s neck and stroking the tan skin there. “Out in the cold again? Thought you were lost, pup, you want me to send you out there all alone to find your way back to town? Send my puppy wandering out in the snow?”
“You could give me directions to the nearest town,” Johnny counters, not allowing himself to work up any hope that the bear was doing anything more than playing with him. Still, he can’t help but glance up through his lashes to watch his  expression. It’s mocking, like he’d expected but naively hoped against. He curses himself for the spark of disappointment in his chest.
“Nearest town’s miles away. I’m not makin’ that trip just to get rid of my pretty new mate.” Ghost ducks his head down, burying his nose in Johnny’s mohawk in between his ears and breathing deeply. “No, I’m gonna keep you right here with me. You’ll be just fine.”
Johnny can’t help but shudder. In this position - bent in half, legs folded up to his chest, big naked behemoth of a man covering him - he feels oddly submissive and vulnerable in a way he usually doesn’t. It’s been a while since he wasn’t one of the top dogs in a pack, and he finds he deeply dislikes being lower on the totem pole. He has to fight the urge to tuck his tail, only really managing to resist the urge because it’s trapped beneath his body.
“You don’t even know me,” he tries to argue, fighting back a flinch when the face against his head moves down to his cheek, hot breath gusting over his face.
“That can come later. Why don’t you start by telling me your name, huh pup?”
He doesn’t want to. Giving Simon his name, obeying his command, feels too much like giving in for his comfort. But the other names he’d used… mutt, bitch, fucktoy… he has to fight back another shudder at the thought of being called any of those words again.
“Johnny,” he finally says, voice hardly more than a whisper in the shadowy cave.
“Johnny,” the bear repeats, voice dropping lower and rumbling through the side of Johnny’s head. “That’s good, puppy. Good boy for listenin’.”
He just barely manages to trap a whine in his throat, eyes squeezing shut for a moment at the praise. 
“Now,” Simon continues, finally leaning back and nudging Johnny’s chin up with the hand not against the cave wall. “Let’s get the rest of these clothes off, hm?”
“No,” Johnny grunts when both of Ghost’s hands drop to the laces of his pants and make quick work of loosening them. “I don’t- stop, you can’t-”
His words go ignored and his thick pants are pulled down quickly, left abandoned to Simon’s side as he then starts on pulling the arctic bib the rest of the way.
The only things left to cover him now are the long underwear and shirt, but he already feels naked. Johnny forces himself to start fighting again, trying to push at Ghost’s shoulders and keep him away. His tail wraps tight around his thigh, fur rising in fear.
“No,” Ghost scolds, catching both of Johnny’s hands in his and holding them still. His glare is stern, but not mean like it had been earlier. “Stop struggling, pup. Let your mate do what he wants.”
“No,” Johnny protests, his voice weaker than it was before. “I don’t want you to touch me, just… just let me be, okay? I’ll find my way to town on my own, you don’t even have to give me directions!”
Ghost sighs, shifting both of Johnny’s wrists to one hand and cupping his throat with the other. “Johnny,” he rumbles, thumb stroking over his pounding heartbeat. “How many times do I have to say it? There’s no point in fightin’ me like this. You’re not going anywhere. You’re gonna stay in my den, let me fuck you, and I’ll take good care of you.”
Johnny can’t help but whine a little, unable to break eye contact with Simon. “I don’t want to.”
“I know,” Ghost hums. “But you will. And you’ll see how good it can be when you behave.”
He lifts his hand enough to pat Johnny’s cheek, seemingly done with the conversation. “Now, no more arguin’ and whinin’. We’ll see if a good dicking helps with your attitude at all, hm?”
Johnny’s never felt quite so much like a doll as he does when Simon removes the rest of his clothes. No matter how much he writhes and complains, he’s still stripped naked and left bare beneath the shifter, struggling limbs held out of the way like they’re nothing more than a slight annoyance.
Ghost hums as he sits back again, takes a long look down Johnny’s body. He tries to cover his groin, self-conscious under the bear’s probing stare, but his hands are caught and held to the side of his body by just one massive paw. 
“No, no,” Ghost chides, tone light despite how secure his hold is. “I wanna see your pretty body, pup. You got nothin’ to hide from me.”
Johnny whines a little at that, squirming as Simon slowly pushes him down to lay flat against the furs. The bear slides one knee between his legs, nudging them wider and leaving his sensitive core open to the air.
“Oh, look’it you,” he coos like he’s seeing something cute, keeping Johnny’s hands pinned as he leans down and noses at Johnny’s stomach, taking big huffing breaths in and slowly making his way lower. “You’re so soft here, pup.” He praises, running his nose over the meat of Johnny’s cunt.
“S-stop,” Johnny whines, hips shifting against the furs to try and move away. “Don’t- don’t touch me.”
“Hush,” Ghost says, leaving a hot kiss where he’d been nosing and ducking a little lower, tracing Johnny’s folds with his nose and breathing in deep. “Let me get to know your pretty pussy, gonna be spendin’ quite a bit of time with her.”
Johnny whines at that, high and loud, echoing against the stone walls. “Not a- not a her.”
“No?” Ghost laughs a little, spreading Johnny’s legs wider and settling himself between them. “She’s pretty like a girl. Pink like a girl. Nice and clean for me like a girl, not furry or messy at all. Let’s see how she tastes.” He laves his tongue, thick and warm and wet, up Johnny’s center from hole to clit. “Yeah, she’s sweet like a girl, too.”
Johnny whines again at that, eyes squeezed shut and a little teary. He can feel sparks of pleasure low in his belly, sharp and unwanted. “Please,” he tries, incapable of much else when Ghost licks a few times at his clit.
“Hm?” The bear rumbles, the noise vibrating through his sensitive nub and straight to his head. Johnny whimpers again. “Please what, pup? Please lick her again? Y’think she wants that?”
He does just that, mimics his movement exactly and adds to the gathering wetness at Johnny’s hole. As much as he fights it, the action feels good and Johnny goes a little boneless against the furs. He keeps his eyes closed, isn’t quite brave enough to look down at Ghost between his legs. His tail falls limp, resting next to him, but his ears stay pinned to his head in fear.
“Y’like that?” Simon rumbles, his thumb stroking over both of Johnny’s wrists slowly. “She sure does. Gonna focus on keeping her happy for a bit, I’ll come back to you later, alright pup?”
He doesn’t wait for Johnny to answer - he doubts he’d have been able to - and instead dives tongue-first into Johnny’s core. It doesn’t take long for Ghost to warm him up, the rhythmic work of his tongue against Johnny’s little cock enough to have him dripping slick in moments. 
He moves a little lower to tongue at Johnny’s hole, thrusts shallowly in and out and scoops any slick he can into his own mouth. Johnny’s reduced to just a moaning thing beneath him, hips writhing as his body and mind war between the urge to get closer and further at the same time. Ghost’s nose rubs right against his clit when he works at Johnny’s hole, and the dual stimulation leaves him slack-jawed and moaning.
Ghost’s free hand creeps from his thigh up to his cunt slowly, so slowly that Johnny hardly realizes it’s moving at all until there’s a finger right at his hole. He can’t help but jolt when the finger presses in, the sudden feeling only heightening his arousal. It’s an unexpected stretch - just one of Simon’s fingers is at least as thick as two of Johnny’s.
“Need somethin’ to clench on,” Ghost mumbles, almost to himself more than to Johnny. 
Or, it hits him a moment later, not to Johnny at all. Just to his cunt.
He nearly wails at the realization, the mix of humiliation and the feeling of that finger curling inside of him a cocktail of sensations that has him inching closer and closer to an orgasm.
“There ya go,” Simon soothes, giving his clit languid strokes with his tongue. “We’ll get you off once, then work on stuffin’ you full of me. Attagirl.”
Tears slip down Johnny’s face as another finger slides in, the stretch not quite painful but definitely noticeable. His hips grind down on the intrusion against his own will, the constant flicks against his clit crossing every wire in his brain. His eyes stay closed, the dark a comfort when he feels so untethered.
“Let's find your sweet spot,” Ghost murmurs quietly, his fingers crooking and searching inside of Johnny. The burn of the stretch leaves him mewling, toes curling against the furs. Ghost hums, gives his clit a few sucks to quiet him down a bit, reducing him to just pants.
Then, without warning, Simon’s fingers zero in on Johnny’s g-spot and press.
His back arches automatically, a loud cry tearing from his throat when Ghost only presses harder at his reaction, giving the bundle of nerves heavy rubs and milking Johnny’s pleasure. He wraps his lips around his clit, sucking hard and long.
“There she is,” he rumbles around the nub. His voice vibrates through Johnny, sending him reeling.
“Oh, oh, please- please, please, please, fuck, that’s- oh God-” Johnny babbles, body tense and pleasure ridden as every part of him fights to get away from the overwhelming sensation. Ghost’s fingers don’t let up, the pressure more than Johnny’s ever felt before, and he flicks his tongue over the clit locked between his lips. He’s never felt pleasure like this, has no defenses against the way it ravages his body.
“Fuck- fuck! Simon, please, oh, oh G-God, oh, fuck, fuck…. Please!” Johnny shouts, eyes flying open to stare at the stone ceiling as he’s finally thrown off the precipice he’d been hovering over, pleasure wracking every limb and racing through every nerve. He moans loud enough to echo as his body slowly goes limp against the furs, muscles weak like all of his strength has drained from his cunt.
The pressure against his g-spot slowly eases as Ghost slips his fingers out of him, his lips releasing his clit. The bear sits up and releases his wrists, letting both of his own hands rest against Johnny’s thighs and giving him a few squeezes.
Johnny blinks bleary eyes open, drawn to the bear’s face against his will. The man looks nothing but smug, chin soaked and eyes bright.
“Hey, Johnny,” he breathes, leaning down and moving his hands to rest on either side of Johnny’s head. He hovers right above him, breath ghosting over his face in warm puffs. “That feel good, comin’ for me?”
Johnny makes a little complaining sound, not quite capable of speech yet. His ears flick out to the side, reflecting the weird mix of displeasure and satisfaction he feels.
“Aw,” Ghost clicks his tongue, dips just low enough to press a closed-mouth kiss to Johnny’s lips, unbothered when it’s unreciprocated. “Yeah, I know it did. You taste real sweet, love. Gonna have you for dessert every night.”
Johnny huffs at that, the reference to a future together dragging his brain back down to his body. He doesn’t have a chance to get himself worked up as Ghost keeps pressing kisses to his lips. He shifts a bit every few kisses, decorating his cheeks and chin too. His lips brush nearly every inch of Johnny’s face, leaving him blushing and a little soft.
This- this isn’t so bad. Johnny doesn’t mind the kisses, the warmth and the pleasure. But the idea of Ghost trying to sheath that cock inside of him… just the thought has him whimpering a little, eyebrows furrowing.
“What?” Ghost whispers, lifting himself just enough to meet Johnny’s eyes, bumping their noses together. “What’s got you cryin’ now?”
Johnny inhales deeply, doesn’t feel any better when it shudders into his lungs and whooshes right back out.
“Please,” he tries, voice quiet between the two of them. “Please don’t fuck me.”
Ghost sucks his teeth, his face a horrible mix between smug and condescending. “Aw, puppy,” he shifts his weight, one hand moving to stroke his cheek. He doesn’t do much actual stroking, considering how large his hand is compared to Johnny’s face. “‘Course I’m gonna fuck you. It’s what good mates do, hm? Gotta give you a few cubs.”
Johnny whimpers at that, a little pained sound at the image that conjures.
“No?” Ghost coos, tapping once with his thumb. “You want a litter of pups, then?”
Johnny’s voice cracks on a sob, a horrible hurt sound punching from his chest. He squeezes his eyes shut against the humiliation, turning his head to the side and pressing his face into the furs.
“Aw, pup,” the bear whispers, nose nudging at the cheek available to him. “You’re alright, you’re alright. You’ll like it, promise. I’m not gonna hurt ya, you’ll be taken care of here. Gonna make such a good daddy, I don’t even care if they come out as silly little mutts like you.”
It’s a conscious effort to breathe. His chest hitches on every inhale, and his nose is blocked up from all the crying. His throat burns. He can hardly think.
“Needed a mate for a while now,” Ghost continues, speaking into Johnny’s skin. He alters between kissing and licking, but never leaves more than an inch of space between his lips and Johnny’s head. “Knew it, but there’s no one around any good to raise my cubs. But I think you’ll do well, won’t you?”
“No,” Johnny finally says, voice weak. “No, no, I don’t want… you can’t.”
“You’ll look even prettier,” Ghost continues, heedless of Johnny’s whine. “Round with me and mine, soft and perfect for me. Maybe these will swell up a little.” His hand strays to Johnny’s flat chest, fingers working at his nipple. Little pinches and pulls, a bit of pain that still manages to feel good.
“Stop,” Johnny tries again, tears slipping down his nose again. Every exhale is shaky, a little whimper in his breaths.
“I’ll provide for you, don’t worry.” His fingers massage Johnny’s pec, like he’s trying to coax something out of the nipple. “Take such good care of my mate. Get him whatever he wants, never let him leave…” Ghost’s voice dips so low that it’s near incoherent as he licks broad stripes up the side of Johnny’s face between sentences, words almost slurred. “You’ll be perfect.”
Johnny can’t hold back the sobs anymore, one ripping from his throat against his will and unblocking the dam he’d built in his head. He’s left nearly bawling into the furs, body tense as a bowstring, eyes stinging, ears flat and tail tucked. He can’t even begin to imagine how pathetic he looks.
“Oh, Johnny,” Ghost sighs, a little bit of clarity reentering his voice. “Alright, sweetheart, deep breaths. I think you need a fucking, hm?”
“No-ooo.”
“Hush, you’re alright, A nice cock in your cunt will make you feel better, I promise. Just need to give you what you deserve. On your stomach for me now.”
He’s already halfway there, it doesn’t take much work for Ghost to flip him entirely. He hefts Johnny’s hips up like he’s a doll, settling him so his knees are spread wide but his weight is left on his chest and face, pressed into the furs. He ends up with his face buried in his folded arms, tears dripping down to the floors
“Hips up, puppy, c’mon. Present for me.”
Johnny doesn’t listen but that doesn’t deter Simon from pushing on the small of his back, forcing his hips higher into the air and leaving his holes displayed. Ghost tsks at the way Johnny’s tail is tucked, blocking all of his vulnerable spots. 
“No hiding, now,” he chides, tugging his tail out of the way just roughly enough to make him yelp. Simon holds it by the base, keeps him from tucking it again immediately with a firm grip. “There we go, look how pretty,” Ghost hums, stroking his free hand fully down the split of Johnny’s body, spreading his slick. “Nice and soaked for me.”
“Not-” Johnny hiccups, trying to take a deep breath. “Not my fault.”
There’s a laugh behind him, loud in the small alcove and just patronizing enough to make Johnny’s heart sink even further. “No? I think it is, pup. Who else’s fault would it be?”
“You. Can’t-can’t help it when you keep touchin’ me.”
He knows it’s the wrong thing to say as soon as Ghost rumbles a low, pleased sound. “Can’t help it? Can’t help that you’re so needy, such a slut for my touch?”
Johnny whines, tail flicking nervously in the air.
“Oh, you’re sweet, pup. Real sweet. Your puppycunt just can’t help getting wet for her mate, yeah? She knows who she belongs to, knows ‘m gonna take real good care of her.”
Johnny bites his lip to hold back the whine, his sharp canine digging into the cut Simon left and reopening it. He focuses on the drops of blood dripping to the furs, tries not to think about what Ghost is saying, but it burrows deep into his head. He can feel his cunt twitching, clenching around nothing.
“Don’t worry, I won’t make you suffer much longer - what kinda mate would I be if I left you empty when you’re dripping for it? I’ll take care of you, pup, just relax.”
As much as Johnny hates everything that’s happening, hates everything that’s brought him to this moment, he can’t help but feel the tiniest bit grateful when Ghost slips two fingers into him instead of his cock. He’s still not sure he’ll be able to take it, but if Ghost is going to make him… he’s at least glad for the stretch.
Simon rubs one hand over the curve of his ass while the other scissors two fingers inside of him, his goal to stretch instead of getting Johnny off. It doesn’t make much of a difference for him, he still can’t help but rock his hips against the bear’s hand, unable to resist more of the heady pleasure.
Ghost laughs over his shoulder. “Need it that bad, huh? Be patient, Johnny. Just gotta wait a little longer.”
He whines into his arms, eyes squeezed shut. Even he’s not sure if he’s whining for more or less, but he can’t let himself think about it. He unintentionally sinks into a deeper arch, leaning more weight on his knees and spreading his cunt further, baring himself more for Ghost.
“Good boy. Just relax for me, I’ve got you, pup.”
He slips a third finger in and Johnny tries to breathe through the stretch, just barely managing to keep from moaning. The tang of blood on his tongue is a good distraction, but not enough to keep him from panting like he’s run a marathon. He can’t help it, Ghost’s fingers feel good in a way no one else ever has. He can’t imagine what his cock will feel like, barely managing to hold back a shiver at the thought.
Eventually, Ghost pulls his fingers out of Johnny. There’s an almost obnoxiously loud sucking sound, and a pleased rumble from Ghost as his free hand moves to stroke the base of Johnny’s tail softly, leaving him squirming.
“Taste so good, pup. Can’t believe I got so lucky with you.”
Johnny whimpers, shifting his weight from side to side to try and ease the slight ache in his knees. It doesn’t occur to him until he hears Simon moan that he’s literally waving his holes in front of the man’s face. 
“Hungry fuckin’ bitch,” Ghost nearly snarls, voice pitching lower. “Need cock so bad, don’t you? Need your puppycunt filled? Huh?”
He lands a heavy slap on Johnny's backside and he can’t help but cry out at the sudden flare of pain, the sting quickly fading into a burning that travels right to his clit. He whines, lifting his head just enough to glare over his shoulder.
Simon looks nearly as wrecked as Johnny feels - his cheeks are flushed and his chest heaves, panting breaths audible in the otherwise silent cave. He’s got a hunger in his eyes that makes Johnny shiver, makes his tail twitch to tuck between his legs again.
“Nuh-uh,” Ghost scolds, gripping the appendage and yanking with just enough force to make Johnny yelp. He instinctually claws at the furs, lifting himself up to try and pull away from the sharp pain at the base of his spine. “What did I say about hiding, huh? Can’t fuck you if you’re tuckin’ your tail, pup.”
“That’s- that’s why-” Johnny tries to argue, teeth gritted, but he’s cut-off by a series of blows, forcing him further into the furs to try and escape the blooming pain. He makes a humiliating sound somewhere between a snarl of rage and a whine of pain, eyes flying wide open.
“That’s why what?” Ghost growls, landing a smack across the center of his ass, nearly clipping his soaked folds. “That’s why you’re doin’ it? Then why are you moanin’ like a whore, huh? Your hole’s dripping, Johnny, you’re gonna stain my furs and you want me to think you don’t want it?”
Johnny can’t speak, can only make choked, pained sounds as Simon continues his barrage. His hand is so big compared to Johnny, he covers nearly his entire ass on every spank. Johnny wants to roll over, wants to tuck his tail and show his stomach, but he knows that would only make everything worse.
“I’ve been real lenient with you, let you sit there doin’ nothing but bitchin’ and moanin’, but my patience isn’t endless, Johnny.” Simon grips his flaming cheek, digging his nails into the irritated skin and drawing a high whine from the smaller man. “All you have to do is lay still and let me fuck a little into you, and you can’t even do that right?” He scoffs, lands another blow against the meat of Johnny’s ass.
“I’m-” Johnny gasps, burying his face into the furs. “I can’t- fuck, stop!”
“Why should I? You’re still soaked, mutt. Doesn’t seem to matter much to your cunt if I’m wailin’ on you or pettin’ you. This what you need to start being sweet for me? Huh?” He reddens Johnny’s ass on nearly every word, leaving him wiggling in place and trying to crawl away. The hand anchored around the base of his tail is the only thing keeping him within arms reach, and the sharp pain leaves tears leaking down Johnny’s cheeks. “Need me to be mean for you to learn your manners, is that it?”
“No-no!” Johnny manages to get out between whines. He tries to breathe through the pain, but Simon layers his smacks in just the right spot to hit a tender area on every impact, and the effect leaves Johnny wanting to scream.
“Then where are they, huh? I’ve been good to you - stretched you out, ate your little cunt, even got you off. Didn’t get any thanks, did I?”
His palm shifts lower, focusing on the crease where Johnny’s thighs meet his ass. Simon’s fingers clip his folds on nearly every smack, leaving Johnny jolting around to try and get away and yelping at the pain.
It takes him a minute to get what Ghost’s asking for, but once he understands he doesn’t hesitate to give it. He can’t even bring himself to care about the humiliation of it all, only wants the pain to stop.
“Th-thank you!” He nearly shouts, eyes squeezed shut against the pain, ears pressed so tight to his skull that they nearly ache. “I’m sorry, so sorry, I just- fuck, please! Thank-thank you, thank you!”
“There you go,” Ghost rumbles, his hand immediately switching from smacking to rubbing across the whole of Johnny’s backside, shushing his whine. “Was that so hard?”
Johnny keens loudly, shoulders shaking as he tries to hold back his sobs.
“We’ll make a good boy out of you yet. C’mon now, back up on your knees.” Ghost slips a hand between his thighs, pushing Johnny’s stomach up and simultaneously tugging on his tail to urge him back into his position. He goes with minimal struggling, far too raw to fight anymore, left only with the instinct to avoid anything that could get him in more trouble with the bear
“There you go, attaboy,” Ghost praises, finally releasing Johnny’s tail and laying it across his back. “Bein’ good for me now, huh? Thought you mighta had a little more fight in you, Johnny.”
There’s a part of him that growls at that, that snarls and bites and proves that he does have more fight, that he’s not easy prey. But the larger part recognizes a stronger predator when it sees one, and urges Johnny to listen. That’s the voice that wins out, and he whines when Ghost laughs.
“Still wet for me, huh? Such a good mate, Johnny. Gonna give you a reward for learning, alright? Hush, pup, don’t whine. It’ll be good, I promise.”
Johnny sniffles, rubbing his nose into the furs beneath him. He whimpers when he feels something hot press against his hole, knows that it can only be Ghost’s cock.
“Be good,” Ghost says, then slowly begins to force his way inside.
Johnny feels like he’s being broken, like he’s being cleaved down the middle. He moans lowly, more pain than pleasure now as the stretch begins to hurt. He wants to crawl away, wants to dig his claws into fur and stone until he escapes the incessant push of Simon inside of him.
The bear moans loudly behind him, voice echoing through the cave as his head pops fully inside. “Fuck.”
More tears slip down Johnny’s cheeks. The push is endless, a constant pressure against his hole, the cock pushing into parts of him nothing’s ever touched. He throbs with need, his clit almost burning from neglect. He just barely manages to keep himself from reaching down, some last part of him clinging to what little dignity he has left.
“T-tight,” Ghost grunts, hips bucking forward with just enough force to make Johnny shout and push up from the furs at the shock of pain. “Fuck, you’re fine pup, get back down.”
Johnny whines at the command, but obeys when a heavy hand lands between his shoulder blades.
“There you go, good boy. Just… fuck, squeezing me so tight. Just let me fuck you, alright? I’ll get you off too, just gotta… just gotta be patient f’r me.”
Johnny’s hardly able to understand what Simon is saying, most of the words fluttering in one ear and out the other. He’s too focused on the invasion of his body, the internal betrayal as he only grows more wet between the thighs. He can feel himself fluttering around Ghost, both of them moaning every time he clenches down on the thick shaft against his will. 
Finally, mercifully, Simon bottoms out. His balls are hard against Johnny’s cock, but they feel perfect when Ghost grinds himself deep, the head of his cock nudging Johnny’s cervix. He yelps at the first hint of pain, jerking in the furs.
“Shh, shh…” Ghost soothes, stroking down Johnny’s spine in long, slow motions. “You’re alright, deep breaths, pup. I know, it’s a lot of cock for a little thing like you isn’t it?”
Johnny whimpers, nodding into the furs.
“Yeah, you’re… fuck, clench like that again, pup, God… you’re so little, huh? Tiny puppycunt hardly big enough for me, that right?”
He pulls his hips back just enough to shove in again, sending Johnny forward a few inches and drawing a high yelp at the sharp spark of pain.
“Shit, how’re you so tight?’ Simon pants, one hand gripping Johnny’s hip hard enough to nearly grind bone. “You clenchin’ down on me cause it hurts? Do I need to hit you some more to keep you tight for me, puppy?”
Johnny shakes his head as best he can, just barely managing to choke out a  “N-no!” as Ghost starts to find a slow rhythm, rocking in and out of his body. 
He hums, like he doesn’t quite believe Johnny, but he gives him a warm and solid squeeze to the nape of his neck, and he doesn’t hit him again. Johnny tries to breathe a sigh of relief, but he chokes on it as Ghost bottoms out again.
It doesn’t get any easier to bear. Johnny can never fully catch his breath, not if Ghost is pulling out to just the tip and thrusting back in on one fast plunge, and not if he’s just grinding himself right against Johnny’s cervix. It’s like he’s lost control of his lungs like his heart - both erratic, both making him feel like a struggling prey animal, even as he’s limp beneath Simon.
The bear is all but silent, for all of his horrible words before. Johnny would call it a mercy, but the way his fat cock bullies endlessly into his cunt could never be merciful, even in the near-silence. Johnny’s sure Simon doesn’t even know how to be merciful, not with the way he speaks, the way he takes.
Johnny can’t bring himself to be silent, though. He hates it, but the sounds are forced out of him on every thrust. Horrible, cock hungry moans, whorish whines, yipping noises that sound like they’re coming from the wrong form. His face flames, tears streaking down his cheeks, but he can’t hold anything in.
He feels unspooled beneath Ghost. Like the man had taken one look at him, found all his loose strings, and just plucked and pulled until he came completely undone. Johnny would hate him if it didn’t feel so good, but his mind works against him when it’s so overloaded.
With a hand clamped on Johnny’s nape and the other on his hip, Simon fucks him with a vigor that feels impossible - impossible to bear, and impossible to keep up with. His own drool smears against his cheek when it’s pressed into the furs, unable to do anything but take what Ghost gives.
Simon eventually finds a rhythm that allows him to pull nearly completely out and bury himself back to the hilt on every thrust, leaning what has to be most of his body weight against Johnny’s nape to keep himself at the right angle to nudge his cervix again and again.
It hurts - the stretch, the drag of his cock against slick walls, the sharp shocks on every thrust - but the pain only makes it better. Johnny can’t help but moan, humping the air in his best attempt to push Ghost for more.
“So good, puppy,” he moans, pace quickening. The slap-slap-slap of skin is audible, Johnny’s wetness only making everything sound more crass. “So tiny for me, squeezin’ around your mate’s cock so good… gonna make you feel so good, give you a reward for keepin’ yourself tight.”
Johnny’s whine is high, needy, and a distant part of him hates it but the present part is too wrapped up in the promise of feeling good to care.
“My good, tight girl. Didn’t let anyone else fuck you, huh? You a virgin, baby?”
He’s not - far from it, actually - but Ghost doesn’t answer and moans at whatever image he’s conjured in his head.
“Stay… oh fuck, stayed fresh for me? Didn’t let any other men make your cunt loose, did’ya? No, no,” he’s panting, his pace so quick, so hard, that Johnny would almost be convinced he was using a toy if not for his audible exertion. “No, my girl stayed nice and tight for me. She doesn’t have a sloppy cunt, not my mate.”
Johnny sobs at the shift of pronouns, the feminization. He feels something rise in him, a heat that comes from deep inside and feels like it might burn him up entirely. Johnny hopes it does, hopes it consumes him for long enough to forget what’s happening, what’s happened.
“She’s gonna…” he trails off into a snarl, biting roughly at Johnny’s shoulder before pulling back at his shout. “She’s gonna carry my cubs, take such good care of them. Keep my cum warm, then keep my babies warm… so good, gonna be so… fuck, puppy, I can’t… you’re too fucking good, can’t…” he huffs, trailing off into pure animal noises, growls and snarls the vibrate through Johnny’s spine.
Simon shifts a little on his knees, making his cock drive further up into Johnny’s channel and drawing a moan that sounds more like a scream from him. After that, it’s hardly any time at all before he’s coming.
Ghost’s orgasm is loud, something uninhibited and almost proud in the sounds he makes. Johnny can feel the hot cum spurting inside of him, feel it covering his insides. The few final erratic thrusts he gets are just enough for him to reach the peak too, that fire finally coming up to coat every limb, every nerve of his body. His ears fold over, flopping to the front of his head, and his tail falls limp to the side of his body.
He sinks into it eagerly, desperate to drown his brain in everything good to try and block out the bad. It works, and he’s left feeling like nothing but a brainless toy as Ghost shudders through the final vestiges of his own orgasm. Johnny lays boneless, riding the waves of euphoria and milking Simon’s cock slowly, trying to draw every drop of pleasure from the bear he can, trying to keep himself in this moment.
But it has to end, and Ghost’s breathing slowly evens out as he softens inside of Johnny. He can’t tell if it’s his own wetness or Simon’s come dripping from his hole, and he can’t work up the energy to care either.
“That was perfect, Johnny,” Ghost praises, his hand trembling just the slightest bit as he shifts from holding the smaller man down to stroking his spine again. “You were perfect, so good for me. My good boy. My pretty mate.”
Johnny whines, but even he can’t tell what the sound is supposed to mean. Later he’ll insist it was upset, displeasure but it sounds more like appreciation.
“You tired, puppy?”
He nods as best he can, unintentionally rubbing his face into his own spit and blood.
“Alright, you can nap. You’ve earned it, Johnny.”
Ghost tips him to the side with a soft grip on his ribs, keeping himself firmly lodged within Johnny and pulling his back to his chest. They’re left spooning, Simon’s back to then entrance of the cave and both of them pressed so tightly together than Johnny’s not sure they’ll ever be able to pull apart.
“Relax now,” Simon rumbles, one hand wrapping beneath Johnny’s head to let him use as a pillow and the other tucked around his waist, holding him close. He buries his nose in Johnny’s mohawk, and Johnny can feel his ears pressing against the bear’s cheeks. “We’ll figure everything else out later.”
Johnny shifts, wincing at the squeeze to his stomach and the weight still resting inside of him. “Can you…?”
Ghost grunts a low, disapproving sound. “No. Gotta keep you plugged up, make sure it takes.”
If he had any tears left, Johnny might cry again. But he’s drained, emotionally and physically exhausted from all the day’s trauma, and he’s got nothing left to give.
So he sinks into the heat at his back, the solid arms around him. He feels almost shell shocked, staring at the way the shadows dance across the wall with a heavy bear behind him. If it weren’t for the thick cock plugging him up, he’d almost call the scene domestic.
Eventually, the peaceful embrace of sleep welcomes him. He doesn’t try to fight it off, desperate to leave the cave if only in his subconscious mind. 
Against his better knowledge, he can’t help but hope when he next opens his eyes he won’t see the cave at all. He knows it’s bad to hope, knows he’s only setting himself up for disappointment, but… Well, if he pretends the heat surrounding him is from his blankets, that the pleasant scent in the air is his den, not the heavy smell of satisfaction, then that’s his business.
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wikiangela · 7 months ago
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Seven Sentence Sunday
tagged by @theotherbuckley @diazsdimples @tizniz 💖
today a different wip again that I don't think I shared yet lol - writing a smutty sequel to my bucktommy post-first date fic and it's barely started but there's progress! 😅
___
“Say that again.” Buck says quietly, even to his own ears sounding almost frantic. His hands twist in the fabric of Tommy’s t-shirt, and pull him as close as possible with their seatbelts on. He needs to get to his place as soon as possible and get enveloped in Tommy, no room for air between them, he just needs him closer, closer, closer.
“Say what?” Tommy teases, lips brushing the shell of Buck’s ear, knowing damn well what Buck wants to hear. 
“You know what.” Buck pulls away slightly, just to meet Tommy’s eyes, and can’t stop a pout that quickly turns into an awed smile. It’s a late evening, the sky is dark, just like the inside of the car, only illuminated by the lights of the city as they’re driving, and Tommy looks so gorgeous. There’s an amused smile playing on his kiss-swollen lips, but even in the dark Buck can see his own desire mirrored in Tommy’s eyes.
“What?” he smirks, leans closer to press a kiss to his lips again. “Baby?” he whispers, and Buck shivers, a sharp gasp escaping him. Oh, he likes this. He likes when Tommy calls him just about anything, in that wonderful voice of his, but this, being called a pet name like this by a man, it’s new and thrilling, and that man being Tommy is just so exhilarating, it makes his racing heart skip a beat, and it only adds to the heat pooling in his stomach. Shit, he needs to get Tommy alone right the fuck now.
___
no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @underwaterninja13 @exhuastedpigeon @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @buddieswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @your-catfish-friend @daffi-990 @dangerpronebuddie @hoodie-buck @aroeddiediaz @bidisasterevankinard
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