#free standing small wood desk

[happythebluecat]

Traditional Living Room - Loft-Style Living room - mid-sized traditional formal and loft-style ceramic tile living room idea with yellow walls, no fireplace and no tv

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: noncon/dubcon, bullying, reader wears glasses

♡ gn reader

Thinking about jock bully hunting you down after the bell rings...

You hurry – haphazardously shoving your books and pens into your bag before slinging it over your shoulder – ready to get out before the chimes are even done singing.

Thankfully, it seemed fine for now as you couldn't hear the roaring of buzzing students in the hallway just yet, only your own class packing up their belongings with movements rather lazy compared to yours. 

But you couldn't afford to take your time – even with the free period following the end of your class. You needed to leave before he could find you.

"Where’ you off to in such a hurry, Specs?"

You ought to have knocked on wood before finishing your thought – you admonished yourself with eyes squeezed tightly shut and a punishing bite to your lower lip.

It's funny – you winced – how his voice is so casual, so breezy and laidback, all cool and friendly – funny how it sends such spiky goosebumps down your spine.

You ignore him, trying to squeeze past him – quick and dexterous as you attempt to slip away and disappear out the door – maybe be so lucky to lose him in the crowd.

"Whoa, whoa- you tryna run off on me?" He joked. His large hands held up to block your way. 

You watch the rest of your classmates leave – leaving you to fend for yourself. But you couldn't really blame them… none of you wanted to explain new bruises to worried parents at home.

He was like a shark circling, and if he smelt blood in the water, you were as good as done for. And you were like an open cut.

"Now, what did I do to deserve a disappearing act, huh?" He pouted. His head tilted, blocking out the lights in the ceiling, shadowing his already scary face. 

You nearly squeaked instead of speaking. "Please- I- I-"

"Calm down, will yah?" He dismissed. Flashing you a wide smile – the one that nearly fooled you into believing he was a good and decent guy. "I ain't come to pick on yah…"

You didn't listen. Once again, you bravely tried to push past him with your bag squeezed tightly to your chest – trying to rush to the door.

But his size was like the door itself. Big and squared. Muscly and tough as he blocked your way effortlessly. Though, no less bothered with your insistent attempt at running away from him.

"Now, when I tell you to do something-" He laughed passive-aggressively as his hand reached out to clutch the handle on your bag, yanking you back. "You should perk up and listen, yeah? Use that head of yours for something useful for once."

His knee rode up between your thighs – making you whimper where you stood, caged between his thick arms and the desk behind you.

"Wouldn't wanna make me angry now, do yah?"

His breath tickled your face, and you bowed your head under his gaze – unable to take your eyes off of the veins flexing along his beefy arms as his large hands gripped the table’s edge, sleeves rolled up like usual – the sight of his knuckles whitening, making you queasy with unease.

You tried ducking away once again. "Please, I need to-"

But he just clicked his tongue at the measle effort. Cutting you off yet again. 

"You don't need to do anything but stand here and entertain me." He decided with a voice a bit more biting than before.

You jolted, your eyes round and wide as you looked back up into his glare.

He laughed out a lighthearted chuckle before his hand broke off from marring the desk – scratching the back of his neck with an apologetic smile – serving a small effort at easing your worries where you stood tense and rigid in your place in front of him.

"Thing is…” He started once again, his tone back to normal – or whatever he wanted you to think was his normal. “Coach is gonna kick me off the team if I don’t get my grades in order.” He explained. “So’s thinkin’ since you’re such a good little nerd, you wouldn’t mind helpin’ me out.”

His hand reached out to tickle your chin.

“M’sure havin’ a cute little nerd-tutor like you is exactly what I need.”

Your throat was so tight you thought you might just choke. “I don’t-”

“Good!” He boasted over your pitiful protest. “Since y’got nothin’ better to do, how ‘bout we just head straight for my dorm right now?” He asked – though you knew better than to think it was a question. “Le’me carry that for yah-”

He yanked your backpack from your chest, ripping it out of the tight hug before throwing it over his own shoulder.

“I can carry you too if yah want?” He posed – smirk loud on his face as he placed his large paws at your waist – followed quickly by you shooting your arms forward to shove him off in protest.

But though you thought you’d put in some strength behind it, the boy in front didn’t budge at all. 

He just arched a brow as though asking if that was really all you had. And you hoped dearly he couldn’t see how the stiff muscles of his shredded chest had actually strained your wrists instead.

“What do you say, short stuff?” He leaned in, his breath foggy on your glasses and hot on your cheeks, as his hands clawed themselves into the fat of your waist, pulling you off your feet just a bit.

“N- no, thank you.” You stuttered out, stumbling a bit as you braced yourself against him. Your eyes squished close as you bowed your head away from him in a mix of fear and embarrassment while you suppressed the mortifying feeling of nearly pissing yourself.

But the tall boy realized little of your inner turmoil – rather enjoying it as he scoffed out an amused laugh at you. “A'ight then, come on.”

He yanked you along – his large paw gripping your arm as you struggled to keep up with his long strides. Nearly needing to resort to jogging where you otherwise tripped when the gap between the two of you became so large you had to skip a step or two to catch up – and before you even realized it, you were already standing outside the boy’s dorm waiting for him to find his keys.

He unlocked the door and welcomed you inside with the same grace of a warden showing a prisoner to their cell – with the weight and breadth of his warm hand on the small of your back as he nudged you inside.

The room had an overwhelming dank scent of both bodyspray and sweat and other things you’d only expect to smell in a boy’s locker room.

“Yo.” Came another voice from inside.

“Sup, roomie.” Your bully replied lazily. Grinning at how you gripped his shirt, all but jumping into hiding behind him. 

You’re cute…

“Who’s that you got there?” His friend arched a brow at you, where you peaked at him from behind your bully’s sleeve.

“I’mma need the room.” He announced, not really answering the question.

The roommate then scoffed with a grin, beholding you with slim eyes for a moment, then scoffed once more before he got up to leave.

“Don’t hit the books too hard – Coach’ll have your ass if you don’t bring your A-game later.” He warned, pulling his gym bag up on his shoulder as he excused himself.

You looked around once he was gone, spotting dumbbells and other equipment – and quickly realized how there must be many more muscles beneath his shirt than what you’d already borne witness. 

“So- uhm-” Swallowing the lump in your throat, you awkwardly turned to the boy. “Where're your books?”

Your bully smiled, taking a casual step toward you. “My books?” He asked, nowhere near even trying to sound the least bit genuinely confused.

“Your- uhm...” You paused, feeling uneasy. “Textbooks?”

His smile sharpened. “That’s cute.” He mocked sweetly while buttoning up the small black buttons of his white uniform shirt, giving a flash of those muscles you’d been anxiously anticipating. “You actually thought we were gonna study?”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Shigaraki, Dabi, Hawks ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji ♡ HQ – Kuro, Bokuto, Iwaizumi, Sakusa, Miya twins, Tendou, Ukai ♡ AOT – Eren ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi ♡ WB – Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

Full fic with smut available here:

[servicpop]

kinktober week 4 — impact play vallen ( ceo oc ) x bttm male reader

ⓘ riding crop use , basically pain kink , punishment , short

It started with dinner, you accidentally spilling red wine on Vallen's navy suit, — though he wasn't mad at all, he could easily afford five more if he wanted to — breaking a cup while trying to make yourself a drink, and then your overly clingy behaviour in his office while he was trying to finish paperwork for the night. Your audible groaning didn't help the countless pages of useless but important information he had to hand write.

You were draped over the couch Vallen had against one of the walls in his office, your head laying off the armrest turning your vision upside-down. Per usual, Vallen was sat at his desk with a pen in hand, quietly scribbling whatever he needed onto one piece of paper before moving to the other.

“Vallen, I'm so lonely can you please pay your boyfriend some attention?” There it was again, your whiny tone and your pouty lips chirping off about something Vallen didn't even care to listen to. But, just hearing your voice again broke his last straw.

Vallen abruptly pushed himself away from the desk, standing up with his back faced to you. From the absence of words, you knew he was pissed, and that was enough for you to sit up properly and fix up your posture. You heard the scraping of wood against wood as Vallen pulled open the bottom drawer from his desk, pulling out a long black stick with a fanned out edge.

The moment you saw him slap the edge against his palm, making that crackle noise, you realised that he was holding a riding crop.

The CEO turned around to face you, striding towards the couch where you sat with each footstep accompanied with the clack of his shoes against the polished wooden floors. There wasn't a frown on his face, nor did he have a monotone expression; Vallen wore an unsettling, sweet smile.

“Sweetheart I'm sure you're aware of how busy I am,” he cooes, carding his fingers through your hair, tucking back any fly-aways behind your ear. You shudder from the oddly soft touches despite the vein thats straining on his forehead. He brings the black riding crop to your cheek, gliding the leather along your skin.

“All you've done today was annoy me, isn't it time I teach you a lesson, hm?” His voice was dangerously smooth, like faux fur on an expensive coat. You don't have the heart to reply so you just swallow your words.

“Lay down across my lap,” Vallen drops an octave and the smile drops from his face. He leans back against the velvet couch, a knuckle pressed against his cheek as he waits for you to bend down. He looks down at you as if you were a tiny mouse and he was a cat with sharpened claws.

You would be a fool if you didn't obey, so you did, almost instantly laying down over his knees. He brings your hands behind your back, slipping off the tie he was wearing to bind your wrists together in a tight bow. You were just like a present on Christmas, bound with a little bow and waiting for Vallen to tear apart.

His fingers slid underneath the back of your pants, brushing against the small of your back before he pushed them down all the way to your ankles. He didn't bother fully taking them off.

He brought the riding crop to the mound of your ass, caressing your skin with small circles before he brought it up and slammed it down on your tender flesh. A surprised yelp tumbled out of your mouth as you flinched upon impact, wincing at the sting.

“Count, prince,” He corrected, using his free hand to slip down the crack and to your puckered hole. “Use your words.”

The tips of his fingers nudged at your opening, pushing past your tight rim to slip one finger in. He brought the crop up again and smacked it down, sending ripples through your now reddened cheek.

“T—Two,” you manage to choke out between whimpers. The sting made you squirm, instinctively trying to apply pressure to the 'wound.' As your hands attempt to wriggle out of its confinements, Vallen smacks your wrists with the tool, earning another pained gasp from you.

He clicks his tongue in disappointment while his fingers push up against your pelvic bone, sinking his finger into your tight channel.

“You're getting so red,” He chuckled hollowly, tracing the red marks on your skin with the leather, “I told you, it really is your color.”

Vallen leaned his head down to kiss your wrists before he moved the crop over your ass again. He delivered another smack, the sound piercing through the otherwise silent room. Your knees instinctively bend up as your legs squirm from the pain similar to a burn under your skin.

Vallen takes the opportunity to slip a second finger inside, his ring finger accompanying his middle. He doesn't move them, he keeps his fingers completely still inside of you, letting your muscles contract and clench down on them with each hit to your sensitive skin.

“Three,” you sob out, tears brimming your eyes as the pain builds up. His fingers are tormenting you, buried so deep that just a slight nudge of his fingers could get you writhing in pleasure. Vallen sets the riding crop down for a minute, sliding his fingers under your adams apple to lift your face up.

“Poor boy, let's switch it up.” Vallen's voice is full of sugar, like molasses dripping off his tongue. It made your throat clog and your stomach ache as if you really did eat something overly sugary.

He hoists you up by your torso, letting your knees bend and your calves press against the back of your thighs in a sitting position. He marvels at your pink cock flush against your lower stomach, letting out a small condescending chuckle.

“Why are they closed, dear?” he tuts, shaking his head disapprovingly as he places a hand on each of your knees, delicately pulling them apart. He fishes the riding crop from the couch, holding it firmly in his palms; he doesn't do anything with it just yet. His free hand makes it's way to cradle your cheek, dipping his thumb past your pink lips and into your mouth. You're sitting taller than him at the moment due to the fact that you were on your shins while he had both feet flat on the floor.

Vallen lets you suck his finger for a second and he can feel your warm, wet tongue over the pad of his thumb. He looks up at you with such bedroom eyes, dipping his head down to press a quick kiss to your chest covered by the thin fabric of your shirt. Your body tenses up at the light touch to your now hardened nipples, and Vallen takes advantage of the distraction.

He brings the leather of the riding crop to your tip, thwacking it with enough force to get you to whine and flinch but not enough to wholeheartedly hurt you. He lets the crop linger on the slit of your cockhead before he lifts it up slowly to peek at the underside of it.

“You're making such a mess” he muses, observing the dampness of the flap from the pre-cum bubbling from your urethra. It's smeared all over the material, creating a sticky mess all over yourself and the tool.

He uses his index finger to slide along the slit, gathering all the fluid on his finger before he shamelessly wipes his fingers clean on your stomach.

“How many is that now?” he questions you while pulling your shirt up and above your head, revealing your perky chest, untainted with red as of now.

“Four,” you hiccup, the pain made you fidgety but the pleasure kept you grounded. You saw the gradual color change from a lighter pink to red on your skin. You let out a choked moan when Vallen smacks your dick with the crop again, sending shockwaves of pain through your veins.

It hurts so bad that it's good.

Vallen's non-dominant hand seemed to be contradictory to the one holding the tool. He gently caressed and patted the supple skin of your chest, soothing you with honeyed touches. Vallen leans his face in closer to your skin, littering small kisses over your clavicle and latched his mouth onto one nipple.

“V—Vallen, don't,” you whine out, struggling with your restraints as you attempted to try and push him back. He knew you were weak where your chest was, and it was confirmed with the way your breathing elevated.

Your words fell to dead ears nonetheless, his hand gingerly twisting and flicking your buds while he kissed the other. The riding crop in his hands dragged up from the bottom of your stomach all the way to the nipple Vallen's mouth was previously tormenting.

He places the flap flat along your pink bud before hitting it harshly. Your body instinctively jerked back and a pained cry punched out of your throat as your chest slowly reddened.

“Too harsh? Is it too sensitive up here?” He feigned concern, cooing at you like a child. He moves his hand to rub your nipple soothing before delivering a lighter smack to it again. It was all raw and achy; you'd definitely need to place bandages over it for the next few days from how sensitive it'll get.

The dragging of leather down and up your length so teasingly was undoubtedly kindling a fire in the pit of your stomach. The cold leather slicked with your own fluid was so erotic, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin from the ticklish feeling.

“Val— wait, wait–!” Your words are all chopped up as Vallen slaps the area where your balls meet the underside of your cock, the hit sending ripples down your spine, making you bend forward and slam your legs shut. The tingling sensation was enough to pull you off the edge and you could feel your thighs convulse and that familiar feeling of an orgasm well up in your balls.

“That's my good boy,” Vallen's seductive tone rings through your ears and you're wriggling in the tie wrapped around your wrists, letting out a muffled whine through your throat. Your eyelashes flutter rapidly before your body can't hold it in anymore as you empty out your load.

The weight lifts from your balls and leaves you panting, body slumped and aching. The afterfeeling of the slaps started to sting and tingle.

You can't even bring your mind to realise the mess you made on Vallen's clothing, white splayed out across his thighs. Through dazed eyes you see him move his hands behind your back, untying you from the grasp of his tie.

“You won't bother me while I'm working again?” he asks, and he expects you to reply with a 'yes.' He slips a hand to your cheek, wiping away any stray tears that escaped from your tear ducts.

“I've learnt my lesson,” you mumble against the warmth of his palm, nuzzling into the affectionate gesture.

“Good.”

[you-know-honey]

A Strange Guy

Viktor x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5k

Chapter Summary: Jayce needs to go to Undercity for certain materials if he wants to continue his secret project. Which ends up taking him to the only crazy person who take risks to take him. You. Even if it ends up getting you into more serious problems than street fights.

Series: The Path of Zaun

Next Part

N/A: English is not my first language, feel free to correct me in the comments and I'll update it. Remember share if you liked it.

Knock…Knock…Knock

The knocking on the door started softly, like the sound of a drop on wood, almost imperceptible to your ears. The cold air of Piltover came through the window, clean air, so pure that even after so many years your lungs were still not used to it. In undercity you were used to the heavy, dry air, the damp, sticky streets, but above all, dark, where the sun was barely a mirage and everything was ruled by shadows. In the great city of progress everything was full of unusual energy, each piece destined to move with millimetric precision, full of light even at night.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

The knocking became louder, making the beams of your very humble bedroom at the academy vibrate. It was not how you had thought you would end up. A small apartment, so old that you thought maybe Professor Heirmerdinger himself lived there when it was just new, but you couldn't expect anything less, without a last name to bear or a sponsor watching your back it was all you had, and still it was better than having nothing like in undercity.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

You woke up with a start, your back creaking as you stood up from the chair and stretched. Some of your notes were stuck to your face and the ink had been ruined by your drool. You were a complete mess right now, but who would come to your room at this hour? The clock read 2:36 AM. You ran your hands over your face trying to help you wake up and tear the papers off your face.

You walked as best you could to the door, tripping over everything in your way. You swung the door open, through the shadows of the night and your irritated eyes, you focused on a tall, burly man standing in front of you.

“What do you want?” you asked. You weren’t in the mood for whatever that guy needed, besides only one person in the world had the right to visit you in the middle of the night and it definitely wasn’t him.

“Are you Y/N?” he seemed quite nervous, playing with his fingers and avoiding eye contact with you.

You refrained from answering for a moment, if this was some kind of joke from your classmates they would pay dearly for waking you up at this hour. “Who’s asking?”

The boy didn’t seem to expect that answer but he answered as quickly as he could, as if he was holding back from spitting out a wave of words.

“Jayce Talis”

I think the raised eyebrow on your face gave him the message that you had no idea who the hell he was, maybe that’s why he seemed embarrassed.

“Mhmm, and what is Jayce Talis doing knocking on my door?” You leaned back against the door with your arms crossed. “I don’t think you’re coming here just to introduce yourself.”

The boy cleared his throat, as if he was gaining courage to be more firm in his way of speaking.

“You’re from undercity, right?”

“You got it, congratulations.” I joked, giving him a sarcastic, slow applause.

You snapped your fingers in front of him when you caught him looking behind you. “What do you need?”

The academy was very clear about where they wanted to invest the funds they received. The biology faculty was one of the last places on their priority list. It had been years since any of the projects proposed by their students had borne fruit or even been promising. This was the reason why you fell asleep on your desk that night, working on your own project.

“I need you to take me there.”

Your eyes widened before bursting into a loud laugh.

“You? In undercity? Are you crazy?” You’ll be eaten alive.” You tried to stop laughing when the boy’s brow furrowed in disgust, but you couldn’t imagine a guy like him, so well dressed in a place like your home.

The light of a flashlight at the end of the hallway caught both of your attention, your laughter had attracted a police officer who was making rounds in the academy.

“I don’t think you should be here, Jayce Talis” you smiled, ready to close the door and have someone else take care of him.

The man clenched his jaw and clenched his fists, he was annoyed, not at all pleased with you playing with him, the police officer’s increasingly closer steps left them little time to act.

“Hey!” you shouted when the man pushed you aside and snuck into your room, closing the door behind him.

You didn’t say anything when the police officer’s flashlight stopped in front of your door a few seconds before continuing his rounds. The academy was very strict about students in the hallways, their strategy had been foolish and risky. You could scream, alert the police about him…but you wouldn’t, because then you would bear the brunt of the possible punishment.

“What is all this?” he asked, moving from the door to walk curiously around the small living room.

Behind your back, what you had tried to hide from him, was your small private laboratory. The desk was overflowing without space, filled with papers and notebooks in total disarray, one of the walls was completely covered with terrariums, large ones with flowers that possibly no one in Piltover had ever seen before. A sight for someone so curious to Jayce.

“It’s none of your business” you replied, there was no way to excuse the sight, it was just what it seemed. You let yourself fall on the couch reluctantly.

He smiled maliciously “Maybe not, but I bet Professor Heimerdinger did”

Your body rose as if a spring from the couch had lifted it, you grabbed one of the books on the nightstand, the thickest one and threw it in his direction, with such good luck that you managed to hit him directly in the forehead.

“If you say anything I’ll kill you!” you screamed while trying to keep your composure and relax your agitated breathing.

He didn’t scream in pain, although you were sure he would have if it weren’t for the fact that the policeman would have surely heard him and well…it was the female student wing “Crazy…” he sighed while touching his forehead with his fingers, luckily there was no blood. He took the chair from your desk and turned it to sit in front of you, with a grimace you dropped back down onto the couch. “Let’s make a deal.”

You had no other choice so you just nodded.

“Take me to undercity and Heimerdinger will never know about… whatever you do here.” he said as he pointed at the terrariums.

“They’re toxin purifiers…” you muttered under your breath. You weren’t happy that they treated your job like a simple child’s game.

“What?”

“They’re plants that purify the air and earth of toxins, I’m trying to make them work on a large scale.”

“I’ve never seen that kind of plants,” he exclaimed, and it made sense, they were rare and it had been extremely difficult for you to find them, they glowed in the dark, some with leaves that seemed to move like tentacles, others gave the image of a skull.

You let out a small, egotistical and proud smile. “Of course not. They are plants from undercity”

“How did you get them?” he asked, standing up and bringing his hand closer to the glass of one of the terrariums.

“What do you think?” you walked towards him as soon as you saw him approach the terrarium, you had been working on this project for years and you weren’t going to let any of his imprudences ruin it.

He rolled his eyes, you weren’t being easy to deal with, not that you wanted to be. He let out a small growl before turning around to glare at you.

“Are you always this charming?”

“Only with those who enter my room without permission.” You forced a smile.

He sighed again, massaging his temples in frustration.

“Let’s stop playing games, take me to undercity tonight and no one will know about your research. Period.” He crossed his arms, seeming very determined to continue with this crazy idea.

You thought of some way to dissuade him from that, but he seemed too sure and perhaps too desperate for you to convince him. There weren't many undercity students in the academy, you could count them on the fingers of one hand and you would have fingers left over, but you supposed that no one was crazy enough to go down again after all the comforts that the academy offered.

“Why do you want to go?” You asked, giving up, after all if it was something simple you could do it, otherwise you would hit his head with something and leave him in the main hallway so it would seem like it was just a bad dream.

“It's none of your business” he replied, almost in the same tone that you spoke to him.

“You already stuck your nose in my business, it's only fair that I do the same.” He also sighed and sat back down in the chair.

Both of you were realizing that their pride would only lead them to an ego fight until dawn and neither of them were comfortable with something like that.

“I need some machinery parts…” he said, obviously not wanting to reveal too much and biting his tongue to avoid accidentally saying anything too much.

“Machinery parts? You could get that at any market here.” you snorted, finding it ridiculous that he wanted to go down for something he could get in much better condition in Piltover.

“They are specific parts, I couldn’t get them here without raising suspicions” he mentioned, taking a notebook out of his vest.

You hadn’t noticed that he had something inside his clothes, it made your hair stand on end to think that it could have been a weapon and you hadn’t noticed. You swept those paranoid thoughts from your mind to continue listening to him.

“Show me and I’ll tell you where to get it” you walked slowly behind him, leaning an elbow to rest your face on his shoulder, he winced but you didn’t care.

He opened the book to one of the bookmarks, very clever of him, so you wouldn't take a quick look at the rest, on the page there were very specific tools and materials, and you knew that things like that wouldn't be easy to get in the (in your opinion) very basic markets of Piltover, if he said to make them on his own, it would attract the attention of the teaching staff and since this boy had sought you out, that was probably the last thing he wanted.

You looked at the notebook for a moment, hoping to see something that would give you a clue about what he was up to. “You sign every page? A bit of an egotistical on your part.” He just rolled his eyes, but you noticed that he tried to cover his name on the page with his thumb. “Do you have money to pay for something like that? Things aren’t cheap downstairs,” you mentioned, letting your face fall on his shoulder.

“Will this be enough?” he asked, leaving in the coffe table a bag of considerable size with gold coins.

You let out a small giggle. “If you’re not easy to scam, I suppose this is enough.”

“So, do you accept?” He turned his head in surprise, getting too close to yours, both of you moving away from each other as if you were leprosy.

You thought about it for a few minutes, it seemed like something not too difficult to do, go get some gadgets and come back, it didn’t seem that difficult. It would be easy.

“Okay, deal.” You extended your hand to him, who didn’t hesitate to close the deal with a smile.

“So… are we going now?” he asked, like an excited child going on a trip for the first time.

You looked him up and down very critically, everything screamed Piltover boy.

“Not with those clothes.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” he asked, looking at himself for any wardrobe flaws.

“Do you want to be stripped? If you come there’s dressing like that, forget about getting anything.” You crossed your arms, thinking of something that might work, you didn’t think he had a change of clothes in his vest.

“Do you have any ideas?”

An invisible lightbulb lit up above your head, accompanied by a mischievous smile that chilled his blood. “I think so…”

“I hate you.” Jayce exclaimed. If looks could kill your body would be unrecognizable.

“Who goes on an undercity with gold details on their clothes?” you quickly replied with a murmur. It wouldn’t be wise for any police to see them right now.

“Couldn’t you get something better?” he stretched the tight collar of the shirt that clearly wasn’t his size.

“The janitor’s clothes are fine, don’t complain.” You poked your head out of one of the alleys. “A cop is coming. Against the wall.”

For once he heard you, it was funny to see him stick to the wall, a little more force and he would go through it. You did the same, clearly with more class than him. It had been a long time since you had worn those clothes, you had buried them in the back of your closet in the hopes of never wearing them again but somehow it was the most comfortable you had been in a long time.

In Jayce’s case you couldn’t say the same, he looked like a cake in the wrong mold, the poor janitor’s uniform barely fit him, the buttons were trying their best not to jump out of the buttonholes of the shirt, you didn’t even try with the shoes, they were too small so you just limited yourself to putting tape on the gold details and making him step in every mud puddle on the way to the bridge.

When the policeman walked away, far enough so that he wouldn’t hear you, you motioned for him to follow you, both of you successfully sneaking to the end.

“This place isn’t so bad” he said as you walked through the streets of the surface.

“This isn’t undercity” you mentioned, giving him a quick glance before quickening your pace and tightening your grip on the backpack on your shoulders.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, as if he didn’t expect that answer from you. Somehow that irritated you.

Going back to that place simply awakened a huge irritation inside you, you couldn't control it, it was the part of you that kept you alive all that time. Both arrived in front of an old establishment in ruins, next to a dark precipice.

“Do you want the easy way or the interesting way?” you adjusted your backpack and began to stretch all the dormant muscles in your body.

“Which is the interesting one?” He asked, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets when you pointed with your head to the precipice “The easy one, definitely the easy one” he quickly said.

You sighed, you had definitely liked the idea of ​​jumping on roofs and sliding down pipes with the minimum of safety.

“As you wish princess” without warning you entered the place, at the back was the elevator “ I was thinking of giving you the panoramic view tour”

Jayce ran after you, as soon as he set foot inside you turned on the elevator and with the sound of old mechanism working you warned them that they were descending.

The sight in front of Jayce left him with his mouth open. The view only gave an industrial and decaying place, in the darkness the only touch of light were the saturated neon signs of some stores, he was surprised how they were still standing, above them rose buildings more similar to the architecture of Piltover, only a few could afford that luxury, as they went down the air became heavier and more humid with different smells that he preferred not to think about too much, he knew that the path would not be easy when you hid a knife in your pocket.

“Just in case” you told him. It's not like he would be of support if they found themselves in crossfire but at least it would be enough to keep away a few addicts and minor criminals.

The elevator soon filled with people and Jayce felt you press your back against his body to make him crash into the wall, you didn't look at him, nor did you apologize, it was what you were used to doing and he seemed to understand it well.

Each inhabitant had a unique style, crazy and anti-gravity hairstyles, old clothes or with patches everywhere, some with prosthetics made to make them look more intimidating than to take care of their health.

Going down you took his hand and pushed him through all the people in the elevator, you received some insults but you wisely ignored them.

Returning gave you back the feeling of hopelessness you used to live with, remembering all the time you were fighting to survive at all costs. Every inhabitant of undercity was resilient, refusing to let themselves die, clinging to life and the dream of something better with nails and teeth.

You shook your head to clear away that fog of thoughts, you weren't here to go back to the streets, you were here for work. Both of you walked in silence a few more blocks, loud and noisy music could be heard coming from most of the premises.

“Keep your eyes forward” you told him when you caught him looking at a modified weapon in the hands of a thug with an unfriendly face.

He listened to you, like a punished puppy he looked at the ground and let himself be guided to a small and lonely alley where they barely change.

“Why are we stopping?” he asked, he seemed somewhat worried. Sure two academy students caught trying to buy contraband in undercity deserved a considerable punishment if they were caught, but to be honest it was the least of the problems they could face right now.

“Show me what you need to finish this quickly.” He quickly pulled out his notebook in the correct bookmark, it was definitely things he could get here. You examined the sheets for a few moments before rushing over and tearing one of them off.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” he yelled at you, pulling the notebook away from you and putting it back. You didn’t need to see his face to know he was very upset about it, the way his voice sounded and the heaving movement of his chest made it very clear to you.

“I’ll give it back to you later, don’t yell, we can’t go together or we’ll attract trouble.” After all, you were the expert here. “See the beech store?” you pointed with your index finger, there was a white-haired boy cleaning the glass of the entrance.

“The one that says Benzo’s?” Jayce asked, you just nodded.

“Go to that store and look for the rest of the stuff, it’s like a premium junk store.”

“What are you going to do?” he asked as he saw you putting on some goggles that were previously hanging from your backpack.

“I going to get the rest. I'll give you 30 minutes, if you're not out of the store by then you'll be back upstairs alone.” You pulled up your shirt collar to cover your nose. “Don't let them rip you off.” Giving him a friendly punch on the shoulder you ran off until you were lost among the people.

“Wait, you don't have any money!” Jayce shouted your name but the sound was swallowed up by the noise of the people, he had no choice but to trust that you would come back. Resigned, he walked as fast as possible to the store you had indicated, as soon as he entered he was already amazed.

He was greeted by a small child with white hair, who watched him from the counter, following him with his eyes wherever he went.

“Can I touch something?” Jayce asked, in other cases he would have expected the arrival of an adult but his minutes were numbered.

“Only the ones you plan to buy.” The child answered suspiciously while playing with a wrench on the counter. He was almost sure he used the same tone of voice that you used with him all this time.

“Okay…” Jayce shrugged as he looked at all the artifacts carefully to know which one to take “It’s all stolen?” he said to himself.

“Stolen is a very big word, let’s say they were bought without permission” The boy appeared at his side as if by magic “Buy something or leave” the boy crossed his arms in front of him.

Jayce sighed and began to take things and put them on the counter, at first with some laziness and before he knew it he already had a considerable mountain of things and was going for more.

“Why do you need so many things sir?” the boy asked as he noticed how the mountain of things grew and grew.

“I’m going to do something revolutionary” Jayce said proudly, if everything went well it would change everyone’s lives forever.

The boy nodded curiously, he was willing to ask more questions until his curiosity was satisfied but the bag of gold coins caught his eye the instant it was placed on the counter.

“How much would everything cost?” asked Jayce.

The smile on the boy's face was big and malicious. "This would be enough." He quickly grabbed the bag of money and put it under the counter before his naive buyer could complain or change his mind. Jayce was more than satisfied with everything he had acquired, his mind was already plotting how he would put it all to work. He looked at the old and strange clock on the wall of the store. He still had a few minutes of free time before you arrived.

"Waiting for someone, sir?" the boy asked, playing with a gold coin between his fingers.

"Yes," Jayce replied, his gaze fixed on the door, waiting for you to enter at any second.

"What's all that noise?" Jayce asked as he heard screams and moans of pain from outside the store, as well as a huge commotion among the people walking by.

"Some idiot caused a fight." The boy seemed too used to situations like that. He got off the counter stool and approached the door, ready to put up the closed sign.

His hand only stretched a little before returning to his body at a surprising speed. The door ended up swung wide open, cracking glass and wood alike, a hooded figure dropped to the ground, trying to catch his breath.

“Put… everything in the bag… we have to go… Now!” you got up from the ground, taking off your goggles.

“There’s the idiot.” the boy calmly returned behind the counter.

“What the fuck did you do?” Jayce asked as you carelessly threw all of his recent purchases into the backpack and threw it into his arms. “What do I do with this?” your adrenaline began to spread to him, you didn’t have to say anything to him as he adjusted his backpack himself.

“I pissed off the wrong people, we have to get out of here” He grabbed your hand tightly, something that made you scream in pain, you didn’t have enough adrenaline to not feel that your wrist was really hurt. Both of you left the store and ran, you could still hear them shouting your name, it seemed impossible to lose them.

“How are we going to get out of here?” Jayce pushed you into a small alley, both of you too exhausted to take another step, but your pursuers didn’t seem tired at all and they were getting closer and closer.

“You’re getting out of here. Wait for me at the end of the bridge, I’ll lose them.” You let go of his hand before he could stop you. With shouts and exaggerated gestures you managed to get them to follow you. “Hey! Finn! You’re falling behind!” you shouted and said goodbye to Jayce with a wink.

It wasn’t hard to lose them alone, yes of course, they were thugs with guns but you knew Finn well, the last thing he would want is for a bullet to go through his former ‘treasure’. You had run into him while you were walking through the market, taking some things from here and there, just what you thought Jayce might need, you can confess, you got distracted in the food area but who could judge you? It's been years since you tried something homemade. You ended up wandering until you reached the limit between the market and the red light district, there was your limit but there was also him. His eyes were fixed on you like arrows, you tried to calm down as he approached to greet you, you weren't friends, not even good acquaintances, if it were up to you you would erase him from your mind forever. When he got closer, that's when you punched him in the golden jaw and ran away, obviously it didn't take long for him to send his bitches after you.

Getting into that kind of trouble wasn't in your plans, you cursed yourself for having let yourself be guided by nostalgia and curiosity, that shouldn't happen again.

“Come on Y/N, is this how you treat an old client?” Finn’s voice echoed in the desolate street, his thugs had disappeared from your sight but they had to be close, never too far from their master.

You remained silent, it would be foolish to answer him and give away your location while you looked for a way out of there, the cliff you had mentioned to Jayce was close, if you managed to jump over it you could use one of the huge pipes to get out of there and knowing Finn he was too cowardly to follow you there.

You came out of your hiding place with the objective you plain in your mind. A huge hand grabbed you by the hair and slammed you against the wall, your thoughts scrambled a little from the blow, you were dropped to the ground full of broken glass. You tried to stand up as best you could but the small glass stuck in your skin and small rivers of blood dripped from your fingers.

“Aren’t you saying hello to an old friend?” Finn asked, placing his gun under his jaw, as if he were talking to a pet, forcing you to stand up.

“You're not my friend,” you spat the words in his face, he didn't seem to like it very much.

“You’re right…I was much more than that for you” his hands grabbed your thighs and forced you to hug his hips with your legs . “You still remember” He dropped the gun to the ground and quickly caught your wrists with his hand.

The feeling of having his body close to yours was too unpleasant. He made a gesture with his face and his thugs left, you rolled your eyes, hitting your head against the wall, but this time you felt higher than just the wall. You surreptitiously looked up, some rusty fire escapes were above you like a blessing.

A smile settled on your “perfect” face, you let your legs climb up Finn’s body until his face was between your legs and although your hands were trapped you managed to stretch enough to hold the first bar surreptitiously.

“Honey…you know I don’t do that” Finn replied with that stupid and pitiful tone that imitated flirting.

“But I do.”

Before the idiot realized it, your feet were on his shoulders, staining his expensive shirt with dirt, using him to push yourself up and make you touch the last bar of the emergency staircase, getting him to let go of your hands wasn’t difficult, you just hit them against the rusty metal, with the brief moment of freedom you used a bar to balance yourself and push yourself to a more comfortable position until you climbed up and reached the top. Finn tried to follow you but with a couple of kicks the ladder basically crumbled, creating an ideal distance between the two of you.

“Bye Finn” you didn’t stay to hear the answer, you ran as fast as you could before they found a way to follow you.

You ran in the darkness with blind faith that you wouldn’t fall, a dim light indicated that you were approaching the precipice and the sound of pipes greeted you, without hesitating for a second you jumped. It was easy to land on them, they were giants, while you ran back to Piltover you managed to see Finn and his thugs on the edge of the cliff, he wasn't happy at all but that wasn't your problem.

When you got to Jayce he seemed totally nervous and worried, he had dodged a few guards and was afraid that they would have caught you.

“Did you lose them?” He asked just to confirm.

You just raised your thumb, giving a long sigh “Job done”

Jayce sighed just like a worried mother would and both began to walk, this time calmer, without haste and better yet without pursuers.

“So… this is your house?” You asked when both stopped in front of a nice apartment complex in the academic district.

“Yes… umm, thanks for tonight. Without you I wouldn't have been able to get any of this” Jayce shook his backpack a little “I'll give it back to you tomorrow”

“Don't worry…” you turned to leave but a mischievous smile crossed your face “I promise that next time we go I won't get into trouble”

Jayce let out a genuine laugh “Prove it”

Your response was to laugh with him, while you let yourself be absorbed by the early morning mist until you finally disappeared from sight.

That morning, before going to the academy, Jayce opened the door to his balcony while sipping his morning coffee, only to find a small ribbon of stars and beneath it the page you had torn out of his notebook.

N/A: For the person who sent me a one-shot request… You could be more specific, my brain is a bit slow and I didn't understand the request 😅

[midnightspasms]

Pairing: Professor!Geto x reader

Synopsis: Geto likes your type. The kind of girl who'd never risk her future by engaging in any sort of inappropriate rendezvous with her nasty professor, him. So when you apply to become his teaching assistant, he can't let the opportunity go.

Content warnings: Swearing, male masturbation, lewd/perverse behaviour, age gap, teacher x student relationship, spit sharing if you squint, Geto is a creep and a pervert!

Suguru wouldn't exactly consider himself a moral person. Sure, he didn't steal or kill, but that was the bare minimum. He wouldn't ever fail a student purely because he didn't like their face, but maybe he'd put much of the topics they struggled in in the test. So sure he wasn't exactly Jack the Ripper, but he wasn't that much of a good person.

The first day you walked into his class, he could tell that there was something in his chest for you. It wasn't serious, wasn't plentiful. Truly, if you dropped the class, he'd probably end up forgetting you entirely.

But you didn't, and the more he saw you, well...

He likes the kind of girl you are; the pretty, wealthy heiress with gold on her wrists and diamonds on her ears. You're the girl with a meticulously crafted reputation. The model student with big brains and a nice ass but doesn't show off the latter. The one that's gonna graduate Summa Cum Laude and pretend like that's what landed her summer internship and not daddy's connections.

Oh, he likes your type. The kind of girl who'd never risk her future by engaging in any sort of inappropriate rendezvous with her nasty professor, him.

When you apply to be his TA, he's pleased. He picks you without hesitation, throwing the rest of the applications in the bin.

When you step into his office with your not-too-tight top and not-too-short skirt that does nothing to hide that ass, he grins at you lazily, pleasantly, as you sit before his desk and he begins giving you the rundown of your work as his TA.

"You can begin with grading those papers," he says afterwards, voice smooth like velvet, deep like a 15-foot well as he gestures to the pile of test scripts on his desk.

You look over to the pile of test scripts at the edge of his desk. "Sure," you hum as you stand and pick up the stack.

You look up at him, Professor Geto, "Is there a marking guide I could use?" You ask him slowly as you stand before his desk.

Out of all your professors, Geto was probably the one that intimidated you the most. And not in a scary way, it was the way he was; the languid yet confident way he carried himself that made him seem untouchable, made him seem so far away from the other academic staff.

You became his TA because of his connections in the world of academia. Otherwise, he unsettled you.

Geto cocks his head to the side, arms crossing over his chest, as he regards you with a languorous blink. He's amused, though for what reason, you don't know.

He lets out a small huff, a sort of exhale through his nose as he reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out a slender booklet. It's a copy of the marking guide; crisp and new. He hands it to you, eyes never once leaving your face.

"You're a smart girl," he says lowly, voice honeyed and smooth.

You take it from him with your free hand, "Thank you."

You turn around and wake over to the smaller desk next to his, putting the pile of scripts down on the wood. "Do I have a time constraint, sir?"

Geto sits back in his own chair, the leather making a quiet creaking noise as he folds one leg over the other, ankle over knee. He leans his elbow against the chair handle, his jaw propped on his knuckles.

"No, not exactly," he replies with a shrug. "Do it in your own pace."

You hum as you take a seat, your lips pursed. "Alright." You say as you pick up the first script.

You sit with your ankles crossed, the marking guide to your right as you begin grading the scripts. It's the scripts of freshman students, and it's obvious in the way the answers are structured.

You furrow my brows as you lean closer, trying to grade it the way your professor does, strict but not harsh, and with comments on how to improve.

All the while, Geto watches you. There's something almost voyeuristic in the way he does so - as if he were a photographer taking a candid picture of a woman without her knowledge. His eyes slowly drift over your form, the way the sunlight shines on your hair, the way you push a stray strand away from your face, the way your skirt tightens over your thighs...

It's strange. He doesn't even really like you, but there's something about you that pulls him towards you like a moth to a flame.

And you can't deny that the atmosphere is calming. The silence in the air and the air conditioning has your focused, and you finish the scripts in a little over an hour, silent as you put the last paper on top of the pile. "I'm done, sir." You call out to him as you finish, turning to look at him.

When you turn to look at him, he lifts an eyebrow, and his mouth slowly quirks up. "All thirty test scripts in an hour?" he says disbelievingly, but the impressed tone in his voice betrays his words. "I knew you were smart, but God damn."

You purse your lips as he speaks. "Would you like to go over them?" You ask slowly, eyeing the scripts. Now that he's expressed such surprise in the time you'd used, you can't help but doubt your work.

He lets out a low chuckle as he uncrosses his legs and stands up from his chair, rolling his shoulders back as the muscles in his back flex. He's a tall man with a wide chest, a lean swimmer's physique, all lean muscle and languid grace.

He walks over to your desk, and looks down at the pile of testscripts before he picks one of them up, thumbing through it.

You sit forward on your chair, a leg crossed over the other as you eye him tensely. Your elbows on the desk, fingers holding your pen to your mouth as you slowly, absently chew on the cap at the end of it.

Geto's gaze is how it always is, meticulous and calculated, as he scans through. The way he flips through papers, the way he stands, the subtle yet immense precision and grace in his posture as he examines your work only makes you more on edge.

While you sit there, tense and with a pen in your mouth, Geto stands tall and relaxed beside you. He reads through some of the answers for a minute, before he hums and nods to himself.

Then, slowly, he sets the paper down and looks down at you, and his gaze drifts down to your mouth, where your pen is in between your teeth.

He reaches out, and without saying a word, he gently pulls the pen from your mouth with his fingers.

Your lips partly just slightly as he pulls the pen from them, and you say nothing about it.

Geto holds the pen in his hand, idly spins it through his fingers with a practiced dexterity. His gaze drifts to your mouth, now open slightly, before it slowly lifts to your eyes.

Then, he lets out a huffed laugh, and looks away.

"Your grading is good," he says slowly, a hint of amused surprise in his voice as he glances at you from the corner of his eye. "You picked all the correct answers, and you gave just enough critique. Good girl."

The praise feels inappropriate, but then again, everything about Geto does.

"Thank you, sir." You murmur as your gaze drifts down to the pen in his hand. Embarrassingly, you can see the shine of your saliva on it, and a weird feeling spurs in your belly at the thought of your professor holding that pen. "I tried to emulate your grading."

As you mention emulating his grading, he hums, a languid sound in the back of his throat as he glances back at you. He doesn't smile, not really, but the amused look in his eyes only deepens.

"You did a good job of it," he says lowly. "You've a knack for this."

You can't help but smile. It's a slow, little one, but there's a tiny hint of pride in your eyes. "Thank you. Honestly... I didn't think I'd do this cause of scheduling difficulties." You murmur. You already have a lot on your plate. Truly, you only applied to be his TA so you could get recommended for Master's programs.

His eyes remain on you, taking in the small, slow smile that curves your lips. He's never really seen you smile in class, and the way your small mouth curves up on the edges makes you look so different.

Your phone buzzes then. You look down at it and Geto looks down at you.

"I have a meeting now, sir." You say as you stand, relieved to finally be done after grading those scripts.

"Sure," he says, voice deceptively light as he lets the word roll off his tongue. "Have fun, darling."

You offer a noncommittal hum as you grab your bag, hanging it over your shoulder as you turn to leave.

"Good night, sir." You tell him slowly as you bow once before making your way out of the room.

Geto's eyes remain on you as you walk out the door, watching the way your hips sway.

Once the door closes after you, he stands in place for a moment, clenching and unclenching his jaw. Then, he sits back down in his chair with a huff, picking up your pen again, tracing his thumb over the cap.

Even as he sits alone in his classroom, Geto thinks about you.

That small, barely-there pout you had on your face as you left, the way you walked away from him with your hips and ass swaying, the way you sat before him and focused on your grading for an hour.

He brings the pen to his mouth, and before he can even fully register what he's doing, he sticks the tip of the pen into his mouth, tasting the drying remnants of your saliva on the cap.

He's not quite sure what he's doing, but once he tastes the residue of you on the tip of the pen, a single thought runs through his head.

What would you taste like?

He pulls the pen out of his mouth with a quiet pop as his thoughts wander, a sly, serpentine smile on his lips.

He looks down at the pen, tracing the writing on the body idly with his eyes, before he lets out a soft hum.

Oh, he's going to have fun with this...

He slowly pushes back from his desk, the chair letting out a creaking noise. He stands up from his chair and walks over to the door, quietly opening it, peeking his head out and looking at the quiet, empty hallway.

He can't see anyone. It's completely deserted, not a single person in sight.

Geto steps back into his office with a satisfied hum and locks the door with a click. The silence in the room is deafening. No one's there to interrupt him. He walks back to his desm with no apprehension.

Geto leans back against his chair, palms planted on the wood of his desk as he stares down at the pen he still holds in one hand. He holds it up in front of his face, and he slowly runs his tongue over the plastic.

Your saliva tastes slightly sweet, with a hint of bitterness. Intoxicating. Just like you...

Geto lets out a quiet exhale as he imagines the taste of you in his mouth. He's never tasted you - of course he hasn't - but the thought of that saliva being on his tongue and not on some inanimate pen is enough to make him shiver.

He looks down at the pen again, at the saliva shine, the way it gleams in the light...

He pops the cap into his mouth and swirls it around with his tongue. A quiet grunt escapes his chest as he tastes you on the plastic, and he slowly brings a hand down to his trousers...

He knows he really shouldn't be doing this, not in his office, not after hours, not as your professor. But something about you turns him on, badly. Maybe it's the way you bite your lower lip when you're focused, maybe it's the cute way you chew on the pen caps, maybe it's the way you look him in the eyes with that tiny, little pout...

The thought of you looking up at him, down on your knees, mouth open in front of him...

He lets out a hiss, leaning back against the edge of the desk as he palms himself through his pants. He closes his eyes and lets out a low moan as he pictures it, one hand cupping his bulge through his trousers and the other keeping him steady on the desk as his mind conjures up images he's never had before.

You're not just a pretty girl, no, you're a smart, pretty girl. The kind that gets straight As and knows how to use your words.

You could probably talk him into almost anything, if you tried. That thought makes his knees almost buckle.He knows that you're too good, too pure to be as dirty as him, too innocent to be as perverted as he is right now, but still, he can't get the images out of his head.

Imagining you in front of him, on your knees, wearing that pretty green skirt of yours, looking up at him with that little pout on your face as he tells you to do whatever he says...

"Darling." he murmurs your name, voice husky and rough as he unbuckles his belt one-handedly and spits out the cap of then pen unto his free palm before dropping it on his desk. The metal of the buckle clinking against itself. He unzips his trousers quickly, hands almost shaking in his eagerness.

He knows this is wrong, that it's wrong to think about you like this, but God, he can't stop. He lets out a quiet moan as his hand wraps around his already hard, the head already slightly sticky with pre-cum. He strokes himself once, twice.

He's used to imagining nameless, faceless girls, the kind they use in porn, the kind that don't make the right noises, but instead of that, instead of them... he's imagining you now.

You're not even here right now, but he can almost hear you. The way your voice gets all soft when you're focused, the cute little noises you make when you're concentrating on your work.

He can practically see it now. You, on your knees, looking up at him between his legs, watching him with that cute little pout on your face as he tells you to do whatever he says...

He can't hold back from letting out a moan as the thoughts continue to spiral. He imagines you looking up at him through your eyelashes, pink, little tongue sticking out of your mouth, waiting for him to tell you what to do.

"Darling," he says breathlessly, eyes still closed, "Open your mouth for me."

He tightens his grip around his cock, stroking just a tad faster as the scene changes, imagining you in nothing, looking up at him with your eyes wide and eager on your knees.

And, because he knows you're good, his brain even supplies him with the image of you begging him to do it. "Fuck-" He chokes out a groan, squeezing at the base of his cock.

It's all slimy and moist at this point, his purple head still bubbling out pre as he masturbates to the thought of you, hips bucking into his hand like a schoolboy virgin.

He can't hold back from letting out a moan as the thoughts continue to spiral. He imagines you looking up at him through your eyelashes, pink, little tongue sticking out of your mouth, waiting for him to tell you what to do.

"Shit baby," he says breathlessly, eyes squeezed shut, free hand tightly gripping the arm of the chair till his knuckles are white. He's going to cum soon and he knows, the room filled with the nasty schlack schlack of his hand furiously stroking his dick. "Open your mouth for me, baby."

God, he can't get enough of the thought. You, with that cute little pout, opening your mouth, wanting to do as he says, wanting to be good and swallow all the cum he's goibg to release.

"Oh Godddd," his head falls back, neck against the headrest as his hips buck up into his palm and his body goes tight like a bowstring.

His dick spurts it out when Getou finally cums, ropes of sticky, white arousal landing on his stomach and his slacks.

He's breathing heavily when he finally comes down, limp dick still in his grip as his eyes catch the pen cap on his desk. Your pen cap.

"Fuck- I have to fuck her."

[cor-lapis-candy]

Hear me out, Dottore, experiment with everything once, make an experiment out of sex and not tell you till you see a document with a hypothesis and conclusion after he asked you to try something out with him or his segments, Dottore who I believe whole heartedly that if his partner had a chronic illness would use and experiment on the limits of it.

Say chronic fatigue, a partner that sleeps and sleeps, deep and long no matter how long or short they have been awake, leading him to experiment and mayyyybe development a sleeping beauty kink.

This is about somnophilia and technically CNC as he asks but your already half into sleep, so if someone getting down and dirty with a sleeping person is not your thing don't click the read more.

This is your ⚠️ warning ⚠️.

The cool wood of the desk next to the observation area of Dottore, segments coming and going between the sterile zone and the small area that holds sheets of paper and other documentation for whatever was going on in the room at that small window looked into.

Prime, your partner and lover is standing next to you watching the experiment with a cold indifference that some might take for displeasure if they didn't know him, but as you blink sluggishly at him you can see the curiosity and eager attention to the experiment clear as day.

When he turns to look at you, sliding his mask off and pushing his hair back out of his face, that curiosity becomes all about you, the sleepy, slumped over human that was covered by his harbinger cloak, the fluffy collar almost swallowing your head and cushions you from the hard wood.

The sight brews an idea, just how far could be push when you fell asleep...

He had asked you if he could test something as you were dozing off and the muffled response was affirmative sounding, so once you were down and out he had his segments end the experiment and ran a full sanitation of the lab, it was loud, unbearably loud and yet you didn't even react more than a flinch and mumble before nuzzling into the fluff of his coat.

Following the full sanitation he had one of his segments move you into the lab area, making sure to keep the coat you had wrapped around yourself under your head as he had you laid out on the examination slab.

There are multiple hands tugging and pulling clothes out of the way, there are stops and starts as he thinks sometimes you will wake, making internal notes of what makes you mumble or twitch as his segments finally get you naked and somewhat in position on the slab.

He has each segment run a different task, one is pinching and rolling your nipples with his bare hands, another is kissing and gently gnawing on your neck, the third and final is kneeling on the slab between your legs fingers lubed up and working to slowly open you up.

It's fascinating to watch as his segments manage to get your sleeping form so worked up, lube only being added periodically in small amounts instead of larger more consistent applications, the segment playing with your chest is almost as fervent in marking your chest and collarbones as the one that had changed to kissing and tugging on your earlobes?

Regardless of his segments own proclivities, all of them were still unsuccessful at waking you, your sleep seemed so deep and peaceful that even as he orders the segment that is four fingers deep in you to pull away and find something else to test on your body you do not wake.

Taking the place of his segment, he settles on his knees between your legs, grunting about his coats clasps and the need to undo them for this, once he is able to free himself it's simple to get a segment to lube him up and hold your legs apart as he shuffled closer and eases himself in, sighing happily as his head tilts back and his hips jerk as you tighten around him.

It's a good few minutes into what had devolved into a mess of segments pushing each other out of the way to grope at you, and Dottore prime fucking away between your legs, already having cum twice but downed a small experiment that he had saved for a rainy day to keep himself going, that you begin to wake.

Mouth full of one of the segments and hands cupping one segment each, your neck a mess of bites, hickies, saliva and bruises that lead down to a just as marked up chest, it's disorienting to come back too waking as you groan around the cock in your mouth, swallowing thickly and breathing through your nose as you can barely hear Dottore prime speak up his hips still snapping against yours with a filthy wet squelching sound.

"well now that you're awake, it's time to put some more theories to the test... Now be a good dear and just keep still."

[queer-n-here]

Making Poe/Sigma ride a dildo PLS.

Also you're a great writer

Hey, thanks! Hope you like this one, too.

Also, I fucking love Sigma. I fucking love him. Him and Tanizaki are the two characters that I simp so hard for I would do anything to have them.

Contents: Making Sigma ride a dildo cuz you had a wet dream about it

Warnings: Smut, top male reader, masturbation, sex toys, nipple play.

It had been on your mind for a while now. More accurately, ever since you'd had that dream about Sigma riding a dildo like a bitch in heat, eyes glued to yours and hands bracing against the floor.

You wondered now, stepping into your shared room at the Sky Casino with a bag in your hand, if Sigma would agree to your little request.

You found him sitting at his desk the way you always did. Him, hunched over numerous sheets of paper spread out so he could see all of them at once. You walked over to him, wrapping an arm around Sigma's shoulder and placing a kiss on his temple.

He barely even looked up, murmuring a, "Welcome back," half-heartedly. You didn't mind, ruffling his hair gently and putting down the bag in your hands on the bedside table to go freshen up. When you emerged from the shower, hair dripping water onto the fabric of your T-shirt, neither Sigma nor the bag had moved. You plopped down on the bed, grabbing your phone to pass time.

"Say, baby," You said casually, and Sigma hummed to show that he was listening. "I went down today for an emergency supply run."

'Down' meant back to the surface of earth.

"Mm-hmm," Sigma's eyes were still glued to his paperwork. "See anything interesting?"

You couldn't help but smirk at his words. "Why, I did actually."

"Hmm," Was his only reply, attention stolen completely by his work.

You didn't mind; being in a relationship with someone with the personality of Sigma had that requirement of patience. His work could wrap him around him like deadly vines sometimes. Only when it started suffocating him could you step in, beating back its branches and freeing your boyfriend from them.

And Sigma himself had agreed to your suggestion that after 10 o'clock, he should forget work and just be your boyfriend. So you waited.

The very second the clock in your room struck ten, you threw your phone down and left the bed, going to stand over Sigma instead. You bent down, and picked Sigma up from his chair, making him yelp in surprise and latch onto your neck for balance.

"[Name], what-" He began, but you cut him off.

"It's ten," You jutted your head towards the clock.

Sigma glanced at it, sighed, and then wrapped his arms more firmly around your neck, his expression resigned. "Fine."

You grinned unapologetically, and carried him to the bed, setting him down on the soft mattress and laying down beside him on your side, an elbow propped up against the bed to support your head up with your hand.

"So," You said, looking down at Sigma with a mischievous combination of a smile and smirk plastered on your face. "Did you hear what I said earlier about going down for an emergency run?"

He racked his brains. "Oh, yeah, you said you saw something interesting. What was it?"

Your smile-smirk-combination turned into a full smirk, and you reached over to the bedside table to grab the bag you'd brought with you, depositing it on Sigma's chest carefully.

"Is it a present?" His face lit up, eyes shining as he scrambled to sit up to open the bag.

"Mn," You nodded, eyes glued to that expression of his. "Two, actually. One of them is for you, and the other one might be for me."

Sigma frowned. "But if you brought it for yourself then-"

"Just open it," You raised your head to kiss his lips gently. "Either way you're gonna use it."

He shrugged, "Okay," and reached into the bag. The first thing he pulled out was a small jewellery box made of oak wood, its surface shiny and well-polished. His face lit up again, throwing you an excited glance before opening it, making you smile at him fondly.

It was a silver bracelet, somehow sturdy and delicate at the same time, which was why it had reminded you of Sigma when you'd seen it in the glass case of a jewellery shop you'd been passing.

"It's beautiful," Sigma said, looking up at you with that ecstatic expression on his pretty face.

"You like it?" You asked, and he nodded earnestly. "That's good, then."

You sat up to place a soft kiss on his forehead, and he turned to hug you tightly.

"Thank you," He whispered against your chest as you stroked the back of his head. "I'll cherish it."

You smiled. It felt so good to be able to make him smile, it was surreal.

Sigma got up from the bed to carefully put the bracelet in a drawer, face all split from that wide smile on it. He returned for the second gift, the one you had deliberately placed lower in the bag so he would see it later.

Sitting down next to you again, he took up the bag and reached into it for a second time. When he pulled his hand out, sitting on his hand, all innocent looking and perfectly stationary, was a bright purple dildo.

His eyes widened, and a heavy blush rose up to his cheeks. He dropped it back into the bag, turning to you accusingly as his face burned with shame.

You met his gaze with a calm one of yours, smirking. "How d'you like it?"

Ten minutes later, you received the answer to your question.

You had somehow managed to convince a very flustered Sigma into cooperating with your plans. Now, he was on the floor next to you, hole tight and pathetic around the dildo that you'd stuck to the floor.

You sat close to him, letting him clutch your shirt in his hands as he huffed and panted, eyes wet and shoulders shaking.

"I think you're ready to move now, right, baby?" You asked, supporting most of his weight as he leaned against you.

Sigma nodded, and slowly began moving. He raised his hips till only the tip of the dildo was in him, before engulfing the entire thing again. His thighs shook, and moans spilled from his pretty mouth as he began riding it. You let him bury his head into your chest, knowing full well the shame that made him red now would be gone soon.

Sigma began gaining a rhythm slowly, his hips speeding up as your hand reached for your own waistband. Supporting him with one hand, you used the other to pull your cock free from its retraints. You began stroking just as Sigma's moans grew louder, each thrust of the dildo against his gummy walls making him more breathless than before.

"Look at me, baby," You said, hands fast on your cock.

He did, fingers of both his hands clenching you so tight you wondered if he'd be able to tear your skin through the shirt. His eyes were leaking tears down either side of his red face, and his sweat-soaked and messy hair was sticking to his forehead. His eyes were wide, pupils all blown out and blurred up. You leaned down and kissed him, swallowing each of his moans as he bounced on the dildo.

You continued jerking off to the sight of your boyfriend riding that dildo, knowing full well it could have been your cock if you'd asked for that instead.

"Move faster, baby," You told him, and with tears streaming down his face, he did as he was told.

As Sigma bounced wildly, your eyes glued themselves to the point where the dildo plunged in and out of his already swollen hole. He bit his lips, throwing his head back and letting you lower your head to bite at his pale flesh and kiss his nipples. His shame, as you had predicted, had already vaporized into thin air, and he made eye contact with you as he rode the dildo, mouth open and spilling lewd sounds. You licked and bit and kissed and teased to your heart's content as Sigma's body moved beneath your lips.

Soon, his moans turned into cries, and his movements grew sloppily and wilder, arms wrapping around your neck desperately and pulling you closer. Your hand sped up around your cock, knowing from his mannerisms that Sigma was close to his orgasm.

"Let's finish together, hmm?" You said, and Sigma nodded, leaning up to catch your lips in a kiss.

You reached over with your free hand to stroke his length, making him gasp and try to pull away, but you held on firm. You stroked both cocks in rhythm till he was crying, burying his face into your chest and just sobbing, his orgasm strong and unavoidable as it washed over him.

Ropes of cum shot out of your cock as Sigma collapsed onto you, breathless and tired. You reached forwards to pull him up and away from the dildo and onto you, wrapping both your arms around his shaking frame.

You let him calm down and come down from his high, stroking his back and pressing kisses into his temple. Soon, he pulled away to look at you, tears dried on his cheeks.

"Was that good?" He asked.

You nodded, smiling. "So good, baby. Now that you've had practice, d'you wanna try the real thing?"

Sigma's eyes widened, and he flushed impossibly darker.

[planetpedri]

aaron… hotchner… you were always there for him, maybe one day he snaps? “listen, im sorry, but i don’t need you here.” and she’s like oh well girl shit okay, but she obliges of course and he just feels guilty and apologizes? (angst/comfort/fluff)

Night shift — Aaron Hotchner.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your husband was overworking himself, so you thought it would be a nice gesture to bake his favorite cookies and make him coffee to help relax him. Until that plan back fires and he snaps at you.

Word count: 602

Disclaimer/s: slight yelling, mentions of a child murder/abduction case, hurt to comfort. established relationship (married)

A/N: omg i haven’t written for cm since my emily fic hi!

Aaron was overdoing it, no doubt. He had only briefly explained some of the case details as he made his way towards his office. “Two kids abducted and murdered, now another body has been found.” That was all he said as the oak wood doors slammed behind him. Closing you off completely.

So, you’d decided making his favorite cookies and some coffee would help ease his spirits as it usually did. Throughout the few hours it took to make and prepare it all, you’d checked in on him every thirty minutes.

You simply received a few small, ‘i’m working’ or ‘not now’ every time you tried to talk. But you didn’t take it to heart, he got like this during particularly hard cases.

Once the cookies were finished, you grabbed his coffee in your free and and slowly made your way into his office with a warm smile.

“Hey, hon?” You say gently, trying to gain his attention. Placing the cookies down and holding out the coffee for him to take.

You’re only met with a, “hmm?” instead of actual words. Aaron doesn’t look up, he doesn’t do anything except for flip to the next page of the case file. His eyes scanning the paper trying so desperately to find a missed detail.

“Aaron.” You sigh, “I made you—“

“Listen, i’m sorry, but I don’t need your distractions right now.” His voice raises into his angry voice, his eyes only darting up to look at you for a second before looking back to the papers.

Flinching at his words, you nod shortly. “Oh. Okay.” Setting his coffee mug down on the desk, you take a few steps back. “Well, they are there is you want them.” And without another word, you make your way out of the office, shutting the door quietly behind you.

The second you leave, Aaron rubs his temples, guilt seeping into his every crevice. He was stressed and overworking himself, he didn’t have a right to take that out on you.

You were trying your best to make him feel better and all he did was snap at you. His eyes then flicker to the cookies at the end of the desk, then to the coffee, then to the door. Even in your anger and hurt, you’d still shut it gently.

Taking in a deep breath, the man stands from his seat and exits his office. You weren’t in the living room, and he had a clear view of the kitchen, which you also weren’t in.. next was the bedroom.

Walking down the hallway, past Jacks room, where he caught a peep of his sleeping son, then toward their bedroom. The second the door opened he caught sight of you sitting on the bed running a stressed hand through your hair, his eyes softened instantly.

“I’m sorry.” He sighs out, taking a few strides toward you. “I shouldn’t have raised my voice.” He finishes softly, the bed sinking down as he sits beside you.

“It’s fine.” You mumble, looking at your husband. His eyes were tired, his hair was a mess, his tie loosened around his neck. “You should get some rest.”

Aaron nodded, “okay. I will. Soon. I just need to—“

“No, Aaron. Now.” You say, this time more firmly. “Sleep, now.” Your hands reach forward to undo his tie, “I know child cases are hard on you, but you can’t do your job properly if you aren’t sleeping.”

The dark haired man’s lip turns upward ever so slightly, but you caught it. “Okay. Sleep it is.” He finally caves, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

DTS , @halfwayhearted !

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

10 — I'D KISS YOU AS THE LIGHTS WENT OUT

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. read on wattpad. fanfic playlist.

<- previous part | next part ->

[I HIGHLY RECOMMEND LISTEN TO DANCING WITH OUR HANDS TIED BY TAYLOR SWIFT FOR THIS CHAPTER FOR THE BEST EXPERIENCE!]

The wraps, as promised, taste heavenly.

“Fuck,” you moan around a mouthful, covering your face’s lower half with your hand. As you chew around the food, then swallow, you move your palm to beam at Gaz, whose chin rests on his fist, split between watching you eat and looking through a notebook.

“Glad I can add you to my list of customers, Sweetheart,” he smiles, skimming through his book, the lamp standing in the corner of the room your only source of light. It’s well past midnight, now, curtains drawn and the lights of the hallway turned off.

“Seriously,” you use a napkin to wipe at the corners of your mouth, “That was like. Orgasmic.”

He huffs a laugh, dropping his notebook on his bed, arms outstretched behind him as he leans back against them, legs spread. You sit at his small desk, the wooden chair uncomfortable underneath you, but durable.

“Your shoulder feeling alright?” He asks, lazily looking over your form, dark features soft in the dim light. He looks like sin incarnate, and you feel as helpless as a moth to a flame.

Rotating your shoulder a bit, you shrug. “Hardly feel a thing. Get used to the pain, after a while.”

He hums, before moving to stand, heading to his wardrobe and looking through it. Having changed out of his uniform, he now adorns a faded green shirt and deep grey sweats, not unlike your own. 

“Looking for Narnia?” You taunt, making sure that the desk is free of crumbs as you stand, moving over to stand behind him. “Think pushing you in could help?”

Moving back, you regret your words as you see the instrument in his hands.

“You…” You swallow. “You play guitar?” Looking to him, entranced by the tendons in his hands, the intricate wood of the acoustic in his gentle grip. The pick hanging from the chain around his neck makes sense, now.

If his cheeky grin is breathtaking in the light of day, it’s deathly stunning in the darkness of night.

“Yeah. I play guitar,” he mocks, giving back what you gave. With a jerk of his head, he encourages you to sit beside him on his bed, which you do quickly.

“Playing and being good at are very different things,” you retort, but you find the usual energy in your words is lacking. You don’t entirely believe them, not with the way you’re watching his hands, the way he so carefully holds the instrument. The way he had so carefully held you.

Positioning the guitar to be played, he leans his head back, looking to the roof with a soft hum, contemplating. Folding your legs beneath yourself, you watch him with lidded eyes as he starts to slowly strum unmatched notes. Gathering a feel for his rhythm, the weight of the guitar in his hands, the tempo playing in his head.

“Don’t make fun of me,” he warns, shooting you a knowing look as he starts to hum along to a broken tune. “I’m not known for my singing.”

Your chuckle is a light, airy thing. “If I know the song, maybe I’ll join in,” you shrug, body loose where you sit.

The lighting, the smell of boy in his room, that masculine scent you can’t quite place, and the heat of his body, it’s all a concoction for comfort. You feel oddly safe, protected, like you belong, maybe, if such a thing is possible for someone like you.

Clearing his throat, Gaz gets comfortable, starting to build a rhythm where he strums his calloused fingers against the strings, his other hand moving around the neck with practised ease.

I loved you in secret

First sight, we loved without reason

Oh, twenty-five years old

Oh, how were you to know?

You feel trapped, almost, fully encompassed by the beauty of his skill, the beauty of his voice – the beauty of him. His hair looks suddenly too pullable, like it exists purely for you to grip onto and hold against your aching body.

When was the last time you’d done anything close to romantic? Sexual? 

Being with Graves was like using your own hand. Maybe worse, on a bad day, and it had rarely been a pleasurable experience.

Right here, with Gaz softly playing the guitar, dim light haloed around him, voice velvet against burning hot coal, feels closer to freedom than sex with your Commander ever had.

An angel.

Kyle Garrick looks like an angel.

All smooth skin and dimples, light freckles and saccharine smiles. The light smell of citrus and cleanliness, honey and mildew. With the lamp where it is, it colours the tips of his curls, highlights the depth of his face, the chocolate of his stunning eyes.

Like a punch to your gut, you realise the effect this man has on you.

In a way no one else – not before leaving Graves – ever has.

And darling, you had turned my bed into a sacred oasis

People started talking, putting us through our paces

I knew there was no one in the world that could take it

I had a bad feeling

Focused on his hands, the placement, the speed – Gaz doesn’t notice the way you watch him. How you hang onto his every movement, the indent his teeth leave on his lower lip, the dip of his brow, the slope of  his nose.

If only you could preserve this moment in time forever.

Where nothing mattered, but you and him. There was no impending doom in the form of Phillip Graves, no distrust in the eyes of Ghost, no haunting spectre from your past.

Just you and Gaz and his music.

Your heart aches with the bittersweet of it all. How nothing would be normal, not after the past few days. But maybe now, just for one night, you could pretend to be normal. Pretend that it was just you and a friend spending time together.

Pretend that everything’s okay, and your world as you know it isn’t falling apart at the seams around you.

Pretend that you’re okay.

I’d kiss you as the lights went out

Swaying as the room burned down

I’d hold you as the water rushes in

If I could dance with you again

He feels so close. In every sense of the world. And you yearn and you yearn and you yearn.

For what? For a sense of belonging? Haven’t you always yearned for that – desperate to hide the loneliness in your chest and replace it with bravado? Pretend that your baggage is simply a crate locked and stored away forever?

The beat in your chest, matching the beat of the song, Gaz’s skillful fingers against the strings. Oh, how you suddenly wish to be a poet, just to capture the feeling within you with mere words against paper.

What was it like to be loved?

Honestly and deeply – earnest and true. To be held against a chest for the simple feat of existing, that very truth alone enough to be deserving of such a gesture. The very thought sounds so perfect, now, to be cherished in such a pure way. But who could give that to you?

Gaz?

A fool’s hope. A fool’s dream.

Dancing with our hands tied, hands tied

Yeah, we were dancing

Like it was the first time, first time

Yeah, we were dancing

With the final strum of the final note, you understand what being alive is truly like.

The two of you sit in silence, for a moment, and it’s like a hurricane of emotion and need and want crashes into you all at once, leaving you breathless. 

As he, at last, looks back up to you, expression almost shy, every word evaporates from your brain. Like a drop of water against a barren desert floor. Gone.

“How’d I do?” He asks, voice breathy and tense and oh.

You feel so, so utterly lost. 

Nodding, hand gripping the sheet atop his bed, you wet your bottom lip. “Good. I’m – you’re really good, Kyle.”

His name tastes like dew on your tongue, a blessing to even say the syllables, form the sounds in your mouth. A gift from the gods, a treasure to be varnished and cared for.

Sparkling brown eyes track the movement of your mouth, his own eyes half-lidded and hazy in the low light, and your stomach heats with something you’re not sure you want to place. Something you’re not sure you’re allowed to.

“We should get some sleep,” you find yourself saying, almost on autopilot.

Gaz nods, eyes still transfixed on your mouth, before shaking his head lightly as if to gather his thoughts once more. He gets up, stiff in his movements, carefully putting the guitar away.

“You sure you’re fine sharing a bed?” He asks, ever careful and gentle.

“Yeah,” you say, a breath, “It’s fine. I’m a soldier, I’ve experienced worse.” An attempt of a joke, one that falls flat in the unbreakable tension of the small room. “Do you have a bathroom?” 

He jerks a nod. “The four of us get special treatment ‘round here. Ensuite. Help yourself.”

Getting up on shaky legs, you give him a quick smile, before heading in to brush your teeth and splash your face.

When you look in the mirror, you see a version of yourself that makes you wipe at your eyes.

You look. New. Changed. Different. Any multitude of words to say that you aren’t the same woman that you were days ago. Not the same woman you were under Graves’ leadership, and certainly not the same woman that you were under Shepherd’s training.

If only she could see herself now.

Using the hand towel to wipe off the water, you allow yourself a moment to expel the air from your lungs, and inhale deeply.

Shutting the door behind you with a soft creak, you find the lamp to be turned off, the only light coming from Gaz’s phone as he scrolls through it, laying on his side against the wall.

Awkwardly, you find yourself moving to lay down beside him.

“Sorry,” you whisper when you brush against his arm, the narrow design allowing for next-to-no room for either of you.

Squeezing in closer to the wall, he murmurs back, “It’s alright. Just make sure you’re comfortable.”

Silence falls between the two of you as you get yourself situated, managing to not press against the man again. He’s silent, except for a few breaths, as he looks through his phone. As soon as you’re still, however, he shuts it off, plugging it in and leaving it to sit underneath his pillow.

Sleep clings to your eyelids, a taunting thing, but your body still feels the need to move – to release the energy building up within your limbs.

Minutes pass, like the tick of an analog clock.

It’s about ten minutes of silence, before Gaz breaks it with graceful ignorance.

“You feelin’ alright?” He asks, truly meaning the words – and expecting a proper answer. The ruffle of the singular blanket has you focusing on his movements, but he does nothing more than roll over, facing you now.

“It’s,” you nervously look to the roof, the pitch black of the room doing nothing to aid your internal dilemma. “It’s just a bit cold.”

“It is, innit?” Gaz nervously laughs, and his obvious hesitance, surprisingly, has you more comfortable. You, too, roll over, your faces mere centimetres apart. He seems so warm. Even without the ability to see, you can almost feel his eyes searching your face, desperate for answers to questions he doesn’t want to ask.

What is to live, if not to take risks? The only reason you were here, in this very bed right now was because of a risk, right?

His breath fans against your face, and even that small warmth has you leaning in closer to the Sergeant. As he swallows, it’s an audible sound, the slope of his neck bobbing with the movement.

“Can I hold you?” He asks, a gentle thing, and without a word, you curl up against him.

Bulky, trained, masculine arms wrap around your torso, pulling you in close, sharing the warmth of your body with his own. Your face buries against his shoulder, into his neck, and his scent is so him that it has you burrowing in further. His own hands tighten in the fabric of your borrowed shirt, and what a feeling it is.

You can only wish that you never escape the hold of his arms, if only so you don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, without his frame to keep you upright.

“You’re so soft,” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear as he speaks. His hands move in circles, a kind motion, and you melt against him.

His thigh slides between your own, an unexpected motion, and you barely conceal a whimper as it slides against your clothed pussy. The sweats do nothing to conceal the heat, the ache you feel between your legs, and the sudden presence of him has you freezing up.

Without a word, he just lets it rest there, continuing to rub soothing circles on your back.

Your lips fall open, spit-slicken, and your nails bite into his back as he leans in closer, pushing his thigh in closer to your core. 

Your breaths become shared in the small space between you two, harried and genuine in the sudden intensity between you both.

“Sergeant,” you breathe, brows furrowed, mouth open as he leans in closer, hands slowly moving from your back, trailing down to your hips, pulling you forward against his thigh.

It's quiet, for a moment, a gentle pause in the current rushing between you both. His hand smoothes over your cheek, cautious and adoring, a reassurance more than anything.

Your eyes flutter shut.

“Colonel,” he returns, and presses his lips against yours.

His mouth moves against your own, sensual and slow, easing in the way he darts his tongue over your lips, meeting your tongue. He tastes like the sweetest of candies, a forbidden fruit’s nectar. Hand moving from your cheek to your neck, he pulls you in closer, turning his head to devour you against his pillow.

A moan slips from you, drowned out by his being melding with your own as he grinds his thigh higher, a perfect pleasure shooting up your spine at the movement.

Thoughts are a difficult thing, at the moment, a rare commodity. When your brain comes back online, you’re sure to hold some regret – but now? With his soft lips on yours, his grip on your neck, the bulk of his thigh? Regret is the last thing on your mind.

When he breaks away, finally, to breathe, a soft sigh escapes his plush mouth.

“Is this okay?” He asks, the words asked in a whisper against the corner of your mouth as he presses gentle kisses along your cheek, the crease of your eye. “Please, love, tell me.”

Your exhale is shaky, but you nod, meeting his lips with a turn of your head. A quick, reassuring exchange. 

“Yeah,” you chuckle lightly, thighs squeezing around his, tits pressed against his own flat chest, “This is okay, Kyle.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he gasps, a devotion, before moving to straddle you, hands falling into your hair like a lifeline as he ravages your mouth once more. Small nips to your lips, a tongue searching your own, his pelvis pressed tightly against your soaking pussy.

“Fuck,” you whimper, turning your head to breathe as he moves one hand to slowly follow your frame, brushing your collarbones, tugging at the fabric of your shirt. Your nipples feel unbearably tight, achey, and you’re desperate for his touch.

“Can I take this off, love?” He asks – a plea, really. “Let me see your pretty tits.”

You’re nodding, frantic, as he pulls the shirt over your head, helping you sit up a bit to take it off entirely, throwing it to the floor with little care.

His hands are warm against your cold chest, careful as they first graze your tits, both of you letting out tense breaths as he cradles them in his hands, feeling out the weight of them, entranced. The heel of his palm presses against your nipples, and you let out a small cry as he rubs them in those circles he loves so much.

“Shh, Sweetheart,” he whispers, noting your noises. “I’ll take good care of ya. Y’know I will.”

Your eyes shut as he leans in, licking a stripe across the expanse of your breasts, using one hand to squeeze while he uses his mouth to treat your most needy spots.

Hand moving to rest at the nape of his neck, you form a tight fist in his hair, pulling him in closer to your body. He lets out a low hum, the vibration of the sound sending sparks shooting behind your eyelids as he toys with your nipples, meticulous.

“Sergeant,” you whine, breathless, wanting, “Sergeant, please.”

He moves away from worshipping your tits to meet your lips, licking into your mouth with the energy and fervour of a virgin. The brush of your naked chest against his clothed torso has you aching.

“Colonel,” he challenges, tugging at your lower lip with his teeth, drawing a drop of blood, “Let me lick your pussy, love, c’mon. I’ll kiss ‘er real nice.”

You’re helpless to do anything but nod.

With one hand, he undoes the tie of your sweats, pulling down the pants as he goes. Lifting your legs with ease, he takes them off all the way, chucking it over the edge of the bed to join your shirt.

His hands rub soothingly over your bare skin, slowly moving upwards on his knees until he meets your thighs. Leaning down, like a beggar at an altar, he starts to leave open-mouthed kisses on the skin near your pulsing heat, sucking on the unseen area and leaving behind marks. His hands hold onto your hips like they’ll provide him mercy.

Both hands in his hair, lightly pulling, you start to grind against his face when he starts leaving kisses around your folds, fingers leaving imprints with the viciousness of his grasp around your hips. 

Your mind feels numb, no goals, no thoughts, other than that of pleasure. 

The first lick against your pussy has a desperate whimper bubbling out of you, nails scraping against his scalp as he flicks his tongue over your swollen clit. There’s a viciousness to it, one that he embraces, his teeth softly grazing your tender bud as he caresses you.

“Oh,” you moan, head flung back, mouth fallen open as you grind against his giving mouth. “Fuck. Please. Feels so good.”

He pulls away, just far enough back so his lips brush against your core as he whispers, “Gotta stay quiet, love, yeah?” Smoothing his hand over your stomach, pressing you down further into his bed, you clasp one hand over your mouth.

Smirking against your thigh, he praises, “Atta girl.”

Your lower stomach burns with need, and you feel electricity line your veins as he savours your taste, keeping you pinned to the mattress with his calloused hand. He’s passionate about it, laving over your pussy with precise strokes. Your thighs squeeze around his head, and in response, he only lets out a long, drawn-out moan, muffled by your body.

His finger moves to rub at your entrance, rubbing softly around it, before slowly thrusting his index finger in.

Swallowing a whine, you pull him in closer, your stomach tightening as he pushes in a second finger. He’s good with it – knows where to touch, how deep, the movements. Practised and skillful in his strokes – a musician, through and through.

“God, Kyle, you’re doing so good,” you mumble, hair splayed on the pillow beneath you as you rut against him, using him for your own gain. It feels perfect, the way he’s putting your pleasure over anything else.

So unlike any other man you’ve been with.

“If I could spend my days with you sitting on my face,” Gaz admires, leaning back, heaving deep breaths, continuing to lazily finger you as your grip loosens in his hair, “I’d do it in a heartbeat, Colonel.”

“Don’t stop calling me that,” you order, tightening your grip once more and pulling him back. He goes without a word, energy increasing tenfold, two fingers turning into three. He goes at it like a man starved, and the noises that leave your lips are nothing but sex-addled.

He tries to reply, but it’s muffled as he continues to eat you out, relentless in his devotion to the act.

Hand softly moving from your stomach, he outstretches it, searching for your own hand with small squeezes. When you shakily meet it with your own, he intertwines them, pushing them to the mattress with strength and determination. With every thrust of his other hand, or lick of his tongue, he tightens his grip.

You find your core tightening, your release coming up quick as he plays you like the instrument now lying in his wardrobe. The pure darkness of the room only aids the sensuality of it all, the air existing between just the two of you.

Any thought of right and wrong feel nothing but unnecessary, now, and utterly pointless. What's the purpose of worrying about the morality of it all, when you're both consenting and wanting and ready? When it feels so fucking good to have him servicing you between your legs?

If only you could see him, the beauty of his pussy-drunk face, the glisten of you on the stubble of his chin.

“I'm close, Sergeant, fuck,” you gasp, gyrating your hips against him, his nose bumping your clit where he licks in your entrance. 

He doubles his efforts, fingering and savouring and worshipping.

Your release comes when he broadly licks over your clit, fingers pressing against just the right spot inside of you, his moan a small vibration against your sensitive bud. Keening, hand coming up to slam over your mouth, a tear drops from your clenched eyes as you ride out the aftershocks.

Allowing you to use him for the last few moments of pleasure, he doesn’t untwine your hands, but he does stop fingering you to rub at your thigh in reassuring circles.

When your hips start stuttering, your keens turning into overstimulated whimpers, he slowly moves away, licking over the essence coating his mouth and lower face. His hand still remains in your own as he leans in, opening your mouth with languid strokes and smooth kisses. You arch into it, breasts pressing against his still clothed chest.

Breaking away from the embrace, thumb stroking over your inner wrist, he brings up his slicken hand.

“Gotta clean up your mess, love,” he gently encourages, opening your jaw with a soft grip of your chin, before slowly dragging his fingers over your waiting tongue. His breath brushes your cheek as he explores your mouth.

“Sergeant,” you mumble around the intrusion, eyes blissfully shut, “Need to make you feel good too.”

He freezes, a moment, a barely noticeable thing. “Makin’ you feel good got me off. Don’t worry, Colonel – next time.”

Now it’s your turn to freeze as he extracts his fingers, wiping them off on his own shirt. “Next time? I,” you swallow, “What is this, even? What are we doing?”

Reality and consequences and everything hit you all at once, your chest tightening even in the afterglow of your orgasm. 

He furrows his brows, untwining his fingers from yours and rubbing soothing patterns over your hand, his other carefully pulling back your messy hair behind your ears. “We can’t tell the guys,” he admonishes, slowing his movements as he realises. “We can’t – they’ll crucify us both, and –”

“And?” You ask as he trails off, your brows matching his, now, as he rolls to his side, pulling your back to his chest. He rubs at your waist, your hips, lips pressed to the back of your neck.

“Nothing,” he’s quick to amend, “Don’t worry about it. Just… focus on the feeling. Gonna be a shit show, the next couple of days. Lay with me, get some rest.”

You hum, non-committal. Relaxing further against him, his head resting in the crook of your neck, your breaths come out slow and calm. “You and Price,” you start, a niggling in the back of your mind that yearns for information causing you to speak the words. “The two of you – you’re different.”

He halts his movements, head slowly moving back from your neck. “What – what do you mean?”

Hand searching behind you, you pull him back in, his head burrowing further against your shoulder, your skin. You try and think of the best way to put it, the comfortable silence helping you gather your thoughts as you do.

“You’re… You like him, don’t you?”

Gaz’s responding laugh is grating, a choked off thing, a sad one. Your heart sinks to your feet, his body suddenly stiff against your own.

“No. I don’t like my Cap,” he huffs, indignant. Like it’s the craziest thing you’ve ever said, and not something based on quiet observation.

“You’re sure? Or is it just that you think he doesn’t like you?”

He pauses. Stilling, but processing your words for what they are. His response is a sceptic, “Like is a juvenile idea, anyways, Sweetheart.”

“I like you,” you admit, words soft as they leave your mouth, kind. Genuine.

“If it was that simple, everyone would be too busy getting with everyone they liked to live,” he admonishes, just as soft, as respectful. He’s so introspective – the most underestimated of the 141, but the most receptive. Understanding and watchful.

“It can be that simple. Sometimes.”

“Didn’t realise you were a dreamer, Colonel.”

“What else combats the nightmares?”

Silence. Your most common enemy and foe, fills in the blanks between you both. He holds you against him tight, now, like you’re an anchor, and he’s a yacht in the stormiest of seas.

“We can’t tell ‘em,” Gaz states after the silence takes hold for minutes on end. “We’re dead if we do – can’t let ‘em figure it out, either.”

“It was just a lapse in judgement,” you say, not believing the words as they fall from your lips. Hate yourself for saying them. “No one has to know. I’ll be out of your hair after this is all done with, anyways.”

He doesn’t respond to that. Not for a long while.

It’s only when you’re a single step away from sleep that he does.

“I really hope that’s another lie, Sweetheart.”

*

“Gaz, Sweetheart – get yer arses up, Laswell got more intel!”

You groan, lazily rolling onto your back, body burning hot from your bedmate’s clinging form. His arms hand around your waist, his entire being pressed against you, snoring softly where his chin rests atop your head.

Wiping at the sleep from your eyes, bleary and tired, you groan when Gaz just squeezes you tighter, pressing his face to your bed-hair.

That same voice calls from outside the door once more, loud knocking following his Scottish lilt.

“Aye swear to god, if either of ye are naked or I see jizz–”

“We’re up! We’re up!” You call out, cheeks heating from how on the nose his joking goad is. “Give us a minute!”

“Hurry up, Sweetheart, or aye will carry ye out over my bloody shoulder.”

Gaz yelps when you scramble out of bed and pull the covers clean off, uncaring of your naked frame as you hop on one leg to tug on the spare sweatpants from last night. 

He shoves a pillow over his eyes as you rip open the window’s curtains, allowing the late morning light to filter in as you tug on your shirt. His sweatpants hang loosely around you, and you tie them off with one hand while the other pulls at his arm.

“Gaz – get up!” You hiss as he tries to hit your arm away, you dodging every half-hearted swing with ease. “Unless you want Soap to come in and –”

“Fuck, woman, I’m up!” He instantly acquiesces, sitting as soon as the name Soap leaves your mouth. 

You try to hide your smirk, but you obviously fail miserably, as a moment later a pillow is flung into your face. Hands on your hips, you raise a brow, glaring at the man rubbing his palms over his eyes.

Moving to the door, you open it, focusing entirely on not looking like the cat who got the cream.

Technically speaking, Gaz fit that description more accurately, but you weren’t about to get into the logistics. Not when Soap looks at you, then over your shoulder, then back at you. You swallow.

“Mornin’, Sleepin’ Beauty,” he winks, and you barely suppress a groan. He pulls you in with an elbow around your neck, rubbing at your bed hair with a chuckle. “Or is Rapunzel more fittin’?”

“If she’s Rapunzel, you’re the bloody chameleon, you twat!” Gaz calls from further in the room, walking over to join the two of you while latching his watch around his wrist. It’s silver – not too over the top, but good quality, too.

Your cheeks ache with the smile stretching your face, following as Soap swings his elbow around yours, and Gaz follows behind with a hand on your lower back.

“What kinda intel?” You ask around a giggle, and you realise your mistake as the mood sours almost immediately.

Soap nervously darts his eyes to the surrounding hallway, as if the metal will provide him answers. They don’t.

“Soap?” Gaz, too, asks, hand moving to between your shoulder blades in a comforting gesture.

His blue eyes meet yours. Guilty, almost, pitiful. As if he knows the next statement will ruin your fantastic mood, the jovial air between the three of you.

When he says it, he does so with a firm expression.

“We got intel on Shadow Company – and where to find the deal Graves made with Shepherd.”

taglist. @lilpothoscuttings @jng-yuan @iruzias @insatiablekittie @1wh4re1nova @kaoyamamegami @supernaturalstilinski @inthemiddle0feverywhere @msecho19 @nogood-boyo @alfa-jor @lalashhyl @letmeapologise @honeybeeznutz @1mawh0re @oreo-cream @someonepleasedateme @letmeapologise @uhhellnogetoffpleasenowty @inarabee @simp-sentral @littlecellist @clear-your-mind-and-dream @browtfyoudoing @oreo-cream @fanngirl19

[cyber-dump-171]

Prologue: Missing

Objection! Stand your ground! Marvelous! (Twisted Wonderland x Reader)

Masterlist | Chapter 1 →

Word count: 3.2 k.

WARNING: N/A

Note: thank you for stopping by and reading! Comments, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

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“Excuse me, coming through".

You walk down the dim corridor, the sound of telephones and mundane conversations muffled by the large window that separates the common office from the rest of the rooms. You take a quick glance inside and notice that it is emptier than usual, with only a couple of agents sitting at their desks filling out forms, watching the television broadcasting the evening news, or chatting with their cubicle neighbors.

You continue, carefully hugging the old box tighter as you slip past some of your father's co-workers, who greet you quietly before resuming their conversation, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and cigarette smoke clinging to their shirts wafting through the air. You're thankful it's not a stupidly strong cologne like the one James Blanc, one of the junior officers, wears. He puts on too much and it always makes you sneeze.

It reminds you of your male classmates who shower themselves in body spray after gym class, the smell making you dizzy as you sit inside the suffocating classroom.

After a few minutes of walking down the dull, gray hallway, you finally reach your destination, stopping in front of a worn wooden door with a silver plaque that reads a familiar name in faded letters: "Det. Pembroke”. Behind the doorway, you can hear a male and female voice, the latter sounding distressed, though you can't discern what they're talking about. Balancing the cardboard box on one arm, you lift your free hand and rack your knuckles against the solid material.

"Come in, door's open", replies a gruff voice after a couple of seconds of silence. Grunting and mentally begging yourself not to drop the heavy package, your hand quickly finds the handle and turns it urgently, the old wood creaking loudly as the door swings open, giving way to a simple yet messy office.

Tall rectangular metal cabinets and bookcases line the dark green walls, with various certificates and diplomas filling the empty spaces. On the right side of the room is a large display cabinet with various comic book figurines, knick-knacks, trophies and photo frames, displaying some of your family's memorabilia and achievements. On the opposite side of the office, under a rectangular window, is a wooden table with small drawers containing a small coffee pot and water dispenser. 

Your eyes sweep around the room and settle on your father, who sits behind a metal desk, with piles of documents, dirty mugs, a cup full of pens and pencils, and an old laptop taking up space on the surface. Behind it is a large map detailing the geography of your city, Kotohira. You take notice of several colored thumbtacks mark certain areas, though you can't see exactly where they point to.

He lifts his head to acknowledge your presence and his slender finger points to a table hidden in the corner of the room. “Put it there, kid. Careful with that, it's important,” you nod quickly at your father's words and head for the cabinet, pushing aside the manila folders to make room for the box. 

You place the package down with a quiet sigh, using your now free hands to wipe the dust from your button-up shirt, your legs burning as a reminder that it's been hours since you've sat down, too busy running errands and fetching documents around the station. 

Your father's eyes focus again on the woman sitting across from him, and he clears his throat as he continues. “Mrs. Enma, please don't worry, my men are working full-time to solve this case,” he reassures the woman, who nods silently at his affirmation.

Your gaze is drawn to the figure, an old woman you recognize as your upstairs neighbor who lives in apartment 305, Saeki Enma. You have bumped into her and her husband several times, either in the building's elevator or the nearby supermarket. It's strange to see her like this, with her usual warm smile and cheerful laughter replaced by a chagrined expression and puffy red eyes.

However, her reaction is understandable, as her only grandson is now the ninth person to go missing in the last month in Kotohira.

Saeki shakily reaches for her small black leather purse sitting on her lap, her small hands pulling out a beautiful baby-blue silk handkerchief, dabbing the corner of her wrinkled eyes to wipe away the rest of her salty tears. Her lips quiver as she looks down.

"Thank you, Detective Pembroke. My little Yuuken means the world to me, he's a kind and responsible boy. Oh my God... he must be so scared," she breaks down after glancing at the file in front of her, the picture of her grandson quietly staring back at her.

Her hands cover her eyes as her body shakes, the sound of her sobs echoing off the walls of the quiet office. Your father immediately gets up from his swivel chair and places a comforting hand on the old woman's back, while you run to the water dispenser, fill a glass, and hand it to her with a comforting smile.

Saeki accepts it with a sniffle, her trembling hands wrapping around the transparent glass as she sips in silence, her crying ceasing. A few minutes later, she calms down and sighs, gently patting your father's hand as a sign of gratitude. And suddenly, her eyes widen as her attention turns to you. 

"Oh my, (Y/N)! It's good to see you, what are you doing here? I apologize that you have to see me in this state," she laughs weakly, and you can still hear a hint of sadness in her voice. You suspect she's trying to distract herself from the grief of losing her grandson.

In return, you offer a small smile and a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Please don't worry, Mrs. Enma. It's good to see you, too." Your father suddenly slaps a hand on your shoulder with a toothy smile, causing you to jump in surprise as you turn to look at him in confusion.

“Kiddo over here had no plans for the summer, so I dragged them to the station to help out” - bullshit, you did have plans! You were going to spend every day inside, locked in your room with the air conditioning on, sprawled on your bed, and enjoying your free time. Hell, you'd even bought so many books and comics to read during the break! Now they're just going to sit there, gathering dust.

As Saeki finishes her glass of water, she lifts her head to look at the clock, whose hands point to the current time, 8:43 p.m. “My God! I apologize for taking up so much of your time, Detective Pembroke. My husband will be worried, I should be getting home,” she gasps in surprise. As you help Mrs. Enma out of her chair and pick up her cane, your father heads down the hallway, shouting for a nearby officer to help escort Saeki home.

In a matter of seconds, you hear a pair of footsteps running toward the office, and suddenly a young blond policeman stands in the doorway, nervously greeting your father. You remember that his name is Renart, a French cop freshly graduated from the police academy near Chichibugahama beach. The officers at the station call him "Croissant Surfer.”

Renart escorts Mrs. Enma out of the office, but not before she thanks your father again and gives you a warm smile as she bids you farewell. Your father promptly closes the door, sighing as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Nine people... nine people just gone," he whispers.

As you walk to the desk, your eyes scan the missing person's report. Yuuken Enma, a second-year student of Hibari Municipal High School disappeared this afternoon after leaving the Ishimoto gymnasium at around 2:30 p.m. He was reported missing by his grandparents who explained that Yuuken failed to pick up his phone and had never arrived home at an agreed hour.

According to witness reports, he was last seen by his fellow kendo club member and first-year student, Koito Saya. The two of them were training for an upcoming kendo match which would take place after summer break ended. 

Koito explains that Yuuken left practice early because "he was feeling unwell and he had to help his grandmother prepare some things for the Tanabata Festival.” The first-year student stayed in the gym for another hour of training, and when he left the facility around 4:00 p.m., he found a keychain from an action figure that belonged to Yuuken on the floor. Minutes later, the Enma's called the police station.

Your fingers grab the corner of the paper and turn the page to read some additional details about the case. This Yuuken boy... the two of you stood together at the bus station, but you never really spoke. You went to different schools, and his appearance and aura communicated that he didn't want to be bothered, so you left him alone. Besides, you're not the most outgoing person, so you never really made a move to befriend him. You only knew of his personality from the comments of neighbors and even your parents; a "charismatic and determined young man.” 

Your eyes land on an evidence report detailing the footage from the gym's surveillance camera. Your eyes widened as you remembered the conversation you overheard in the records room about two days ago about the recent missing persons cases.

According to the officer, all of the nine disappearances have been caught on CCTV, but you can never see who is taking them or where they are going because the recording always glitches.

He described in detail the disappearance of Fígaro Koskela, the young heir to a Finnish jewelry empire, who was walking home from a party organized by his classmates. He's alone, it's the middle of the night, he's strolling down an alley near some residential houses, when all of a sudden his head whips around as he hears a strange noise, the policeman describes the sound as that of a loud roar followed by a cry similar to that of horses.

Figaro's expression morphed into one of shock and bewilderment, paralyzed on the spot as his blue eyes did not look away from where the sound came. At that moment, the camera stops and the footage goes black. Suspiciously, the camera reactivated itself hours later as police arrived on the scene and neighbors peered out their windows and doors to see what was going on.

The officer explained that all the victims disappeared in the same way: they were alone in Kotohira, they heard something, and the camera footage went black, adding that the people who were near where the victims disappeared never heard anything strange. But he also points out that none of the victims have anything in common. Age, appearance, socioeconomic status, even where they live, nothing.

You're jolted out of your trance as your father clears his throat and walks past you, taking a seat in his chair, before turning to face you, the lack of sleep and stress evident due to the dark circles under his eyes. "From the looks of things, I don't think I'll be leaving the office anytime soon. Do you think your mom can pick you up?"

Normally, you would walk home, since the police station is not that far from the apartment building. That, and the night air feels good on your skin, plus, it gives you some time alone to think and take some pictures of the sky and wildlife.

However, because of the recent disappearances, everyone in Kotohira is on edge, including you and especially your parents. This morning, you even received some messages from a few of your school friends who were outraged because their parents wouldn't let them go on their annual trip to the beach for fear that their children would be the next victims.

You nodded at your dad’s request before taking the seat that Mrs. Enma had previously occupied and wasted no time dialing your mother's phone number. Frankly, you were tired and hungry, having accidentally skipped lunch to help the Chief's secretary organize a mountain of paperwork that needed to be archived. Seriously, these guys are a mess.

After a few dials, you hear the sound of the phone picking up and your mother's cheery voice answering from the other end. "Hello, honey! How's my baby doing?" you see out of the corner of your eye as your father chuckles, having heard your mother's cooing over the loud volume of the phone. "I'm fine, Mom. How was your case?"

You can hear your mother gasp in surprise before she giddily recounts the details of the latest case she took on. "Oh, you bet your ass I won it! You should have seen the look on that idiot Howard's face when they declared my client innocent. That asshole always takes the side of dirty money," you laugh lightly at your mom’s colorful words; she has had a fierce rivalry with Vanguard Legal Services’ best attorney, Howard Waltz, ever since college. They even work at competing firms.

Your mother spends a few minutes telling you more details about the case before asking you why you called her. You tell her about Yuuken Enma's recent disappearance and that your father won't be able to take you home due to the heavy workload. 

"Yuuken has disappeared!? Oh, poor thing, I hope they find him soon. Don't worry, darling, I just left the office, I'll be there in about half an hour," after exchanging a few more words, you hang up the call.

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You hold your head in your hands, it feels like someone is violently sticking a sharp needle into the left side of your brain and your eyes won't stop throbbing. 'What the actual hell happened? I was doing fine a minute ago.’

Your father had left after the Chief knocked on the door and told him that they were going to have a brief meeting to organize a search party for Yuuken and share some updates on the case. Seconds after they departed and your dad bid you goodbye in case you were gone before he returned, your terrible headache suddenly appeared, and now you feel like you're going to throw up.

“O, thou who were guided by the dark mirror”.

"What was that!? Hello!?" you yell, the chair legs squeaking loudly against the floor as you quickly stand up, your eyes scanning the room trying to find the deep voice that just spoke. Your heart is beating fast, your breathing labored as your hands immediately find a fountain pen sitting on top of some papers, grab it, and point the tip outward to use it as a makeshift weapon. 

‘Are the rookies pulling a prank? Or am I hallucinating? Damn it! This fucking headache is driving me insane!’ You lower your head to look at the gap between the door and the floor, but you don’t see anyone standing outside or hear any movement from the hallway. Before you can continue to examine the room any further, your phone vibrates and the screen turns on, displaying a recent message from your mother alongside other notifications: "I'm outside." 

You waste no time getting your things, slinging the messenger bag over your shoulder, grabbing your sweater off the back of the chair, and throwing the pen away, landing behind your father’s chair. You're tired, you're hungry, you don’t want to deal with whatever prank somebody’s pulling on you, and you want to take care of this headache before it turns into an excruciating migraine. 

You make your way over the door, making sure you stomp your feet as hard as you can to warn whoever is hiding and pulling your hair, to start running before you catch them and kill them. You twist the doorknob and open the door quickly, only to find... the hallway completely desolated and eerily quiet.

This is strange... even if everyone was working, you would hear the noise coming from the offices, but, there is no sound at all. You can’t even hear the wind blowing outside or the droning songs from the cicadas. Your stomach twists into knots, a feeling in your gut screaming at you that something is wrong. You need to get out of there now.

“Let thy heart’s desire reflected in the mirror take thee by the hand”.

Yeah, no, this is no prank. Whatever's going on here is some paranormal shit. 

You don't waste a second as you bolt from your father's office, running down the hallway as fast as you can, never looking back for fear of something coming after you. You groan as your headache begins to worsen, your head now throbbing and your ears ringing loudly as you begin to hear a chorus of unintelligible voices inside your brain.

“In me. In them. In you.”

You pant as you run past the common office, your eyes widening as you find the entire room empty, all the equipment turned off and the chairs scattered around the room as if everyone had suddenly gotten up and gone home. The deep voice rings louder in your head again, its words feeling like mockery. ‘What the hell is going on? Where did everyone go? Dad, please be okay!’

“We all have very little time left.”

"AGH, JUST SHUT UP!" you shout, hoping the voices will go away, but they only get louder by the second. Thankfully, you reach the entrance of the police station, your eyes widening in relief as you find your mother's gray car parked right outside. Swinging the glass door open, you dash towards the vehicle, panic running through your veins.

"MOM! PLEASE! IT'S ME! OPEN THE DOOR!" you slam your right hand against the window as you yank hard at the handle of the locked car door. But as you duck your head to look inside the car, your breath is cut short and you feel your heart come to a screeching halt. The driver's side is empty, not a trace of your mother inside.

You slowly back away from the vehicle in utter disbelief, the voices having stopped, but you don't even notice, too preoccupied with the sudden disappearance of everyone around you. Your attention, however, is drawn to a hellish sound coming from your right. A loud roar, creaking wood, heavy wheels rolling on the pavement, and the whole cacophony accompanied by the cries of horses.

You feel frozen in place as your head turns to the side and your eyes widen at the sudden appearance of a funeral carriage drawn by two elegant horses coming at you at full speed. 

You want to run, to escape from this hellish scene as quickly as possible, to run into your parents' arms. ‘This has to be a nightmare. This isn’t real!’ Every single muscle and nerve in your body is screaming for you to move, and yet something is holding you back. You close your eyes in fear as the sound of hooves comes closer and closer.

You feel nothing as the carriage crashes into you.

“Welcome to Night Raven College, young soul”.

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Tag list:

@rotknox

[infamous-light]

You Belong to Me Ch. 4

Alcina Dimitrescu x F! Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3

AO3: You Belong to Me

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu's obsession knows no bounds as she becomes increasingly possessive over you. Will you succumb to her dark embrace, or find a way to break free before it's too late?

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: Yandere, possessive/obsessive behavior, drugged

The air was thick with tension as you found yourself seated in the same chair positioned before Lady Dimitrescu's desk. Her figure loomed beside you, towering and imposing, her eyes blazing with barely restrained fury. The weight of her displeasure made your heart pound erratically inside of your chest.

“I've been told you were wandering the halls instead of having lunch as I instructed.” Lady Dimitrescu said, her voice low and dangerous.

You shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, trying to muster the courage to speak. “I-I was just talking to the staff. I didn't think it would be a problem.”

Her eyes flashed with anger, and she took a deliberate step closer, the sharp click of her heels echoing against the wooden floor. She stopped just in front of you, planting her hands firmly on her hips, adding an intimidating edge to her stance. Instinctively, you pressed yourself against the back of the chair, desperate to put some distance between you and her as much as possible.

“You didn't think it would be a problem?” Lady Dimitrescu repeated, her tone unsettlingly calm. “Bela informed me that you were meddling in areas that you had no business being in, ignoring my explicit instruction.”

As her words sank in, your palms grew clammy with sweat.

“I-I didn’t mean to." You stammered.

"You didn't mean to," she repeated, her tone laced with icy mockery. "That's hardly an excuse. I told you to have lunch, not wander off wherever you felt like."

You went silent, the weight of her disapproval heavy in the air. But the nagging thought of why she was so insistent on preventing you from speaking to the staff gnawed at you, refusing to be ignored.

"Why am I not allowed to talk to anyone?” You finally asked, hesitant. “I was only trying to-"

“It was a recent decision I made,” Lady Dimitrescu interrupted, her voice slicing through the air like a blade, sharp and unyielding. “My daughters simply carried out my orders and I expect you to obey without question.”

To your surprise, a surge of anger flared within you. You weren’t being given a proper answer.

Her reprimand felt like an unjustified attack, each word stinging like a lash against your skin. The venom in her voice caused a small knot to tighten in your stomach, and you found yourself clenching and unclenching your fists in a desperate attempt to release some of the mounting tension that stiffened your muscles. Yet, despite your efforts, the frustration within you continued to grow, threatening to boil over at any moment. Consequences be damned. The only thing that mattered now was standing your ground, even if it meant facing the repercussions later.

“But why,” you finally managed to grit out through clenched teeth, fixing her with a steely glare. “I don't understand why I can't-”

“Because you are mine!” Lady Dimitrescu snapped.

Her hands came crashing down on the arms of the chair, effectively boxing you in with such force that the wood creaked under the pressure. The sudden invasion of your personal space made you instinctively flinch back.

“You are my pet!” She declared, her grip tightening on the chair's arms, her nails digging into the polished wood. “You belong to me and no one else can have you! Is that clear!?”

At that moment, you were paralyzed by shock, rendered speechless as the gravity of her words took hold. Lady Dimitrescu’s claim over you was beyond possessive; it was deranged. Her gaze pierced into yours, unrelenting and fierce, and in her eyes, you saw a madness that threatened to consume you entirely. Then, a chilling smile spread across Lady Dimitrescu's lips, clearly amused by the look of disbelief on your face. With a calculated slowness, she leaned in, closing the distance between you two until her mouth hovered a mere inch from yours, her breath lukewarm against your lips.

“You belong to me now,” she purred, her words dripping with sinister satisfaction. “Every breath you take, every beat of your heart, is mine to command.”

With a gentle yet unnerving touch, she extended her right hand, running the back of her fingers down the side of your face. The delicate caress left a trail of dread in its wake.

“You are mine, now and forever,” her voice softened, almost tender, but the menace in her tone was still unmistakable. “And don't even think of escaping either, for I will find you. Always.”

You could only stare up at her in horror.

Lady Dimitrescu's gaze hardened once more, her expression shifting from predatory satisfaction to stern authority.

“Now, regarding your insolence,” she began, her words sharp but controlled. “I will grant some leniency this time. You were not previously made aware of the rule prohibiting interaction with anyone besides myself and my daughters until now,” she paused, allowing her words to hang in the air. “However, this will be your only warning. Disobey me again and the consequences will be far less forgiving. Do I make myself clear?”

The threat lingered in the air, thick and suffocating, like a dense fog enveloping the room.

“Yes, my Lady.” You responded, low and deferential, feeling defeated.

There was a long, tense silence. You could feel her eyes boring into you, evaluating, considering.

Finally, she spoke. “Good. Remember your place.”

Your teeth ground together, the muscles in your jaw tightening with suppressed anger. You forced yourself to breathe slowly, even as your thoughts raged against her.

***

For the rest of the afternoon, you remained quiet. Lady Dimitrescu didn’t say much either.

Every now and then, her eyes would flicker toward you, a cold, calculating look that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. To distract yourself, you studied the intricate patterns on the walls, but the oppressive atmosphere made it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything other than the formidable presence of the Lady.

The clock on the wall ticked away the minutes, each second stretching into what felt like an eternity. You dared not to speak, sensing that any interruption would be met with a fierce glare and harsh words. Instead, you observed her with cautious glances, noting the way her long, gloved fingers moved the fountain pen gracefully, yet purposefully, over the documents. Occasionally, she would let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh, her brow furrowing in thought.

As the afternoon light began to wane, casting long shadows across the room, Lady Dimitrescu set down the pen she had been using and leaned back in her chair. Her eyes narrowed as she stared down at you.

“I grow weary of sifting through these endless papers,” she sighed, her fatigue evident. “I’d say it’s time we had dinner.”

At the mention of food, your stomach couldn't help but betray you with a low, rumbling growl.

Lady Dimitrescu's lips quirked upward into an amused smile. “Hungry, are we?”

Your face flushed in embarrassment as you reluctantly admitted, “Yes, my Lady.”

“Now, we can’t have that,” she continued, her tone dripping with faux concern. “It would reflect poorly on me if I allowed my pet to starve.”

The word pet cuts through you like a knife, stirring a deep-seated loathing.

Lady Dimitrescu’s eyes twinkled in amusement. It was as if she could read your thoughts. “Let’s not waste any more time. Come.”

***

Lady Dimitrescu strode ahead with an air of effortless grace.

Her heels clicked softly against the carpet, each step measured and purposeful. You found yourself struggling to match her brisk pace, your shorter strides turning your attempt to keep up into a near jog. She glanced back at you, her eyes gleaming with that familiar, infuriating amusement.

“Keep up, pet.” She purred, the endearment laced with mockery.

You bit back a retort, knowing it would only amuse her further and perhaps invite more of her playful cruelty. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she turned away, continuing to lead you further down the dimly lit hallway.

Finally, you reached the entrance of the dining room.

The moment you stepped inside, the Lady's daughters all turned their gazes toward you. They exchanged knowing glances with each other, their lips curling into slight, conspiratorial smiles. The sight made your skin prickle, an unsettling sensation creeping over you. Lady Dimitrescu swept past you, taking her place at the head of the table. She cast a glance in your direction, a faint smile playing on her lips, her eyes glinting with an unreadable expression.

You couldn't understand why everyone was behaving so oddly. It was as if everyone but you were in on some elaborate joke. Despite the strangeness, you took your place at the table, the empty seat between Bela and Daniela waiting for you like a reserved spot. The table was already set with a lavish spread of delicacies that seemed almost too extravagant to consume. Silver platters overflowed with an assortment of roasted meats, vibrant fruits, and freshly baked pastries still warm from the oven. The sight of such a feast started to make your mouth water.

Daniela giggled and inched closer into your space, her breath lukewarm against your cheek. “Looks like someone is hungry.”

Heat rose up your neck and you leaned back, putting a bit of space between yourself and Daniela. In your sudden movement, your left shoulder grazed against Bela's own, drawing her attention. She turned to you, her eyebrow arched in amusement, a small smirk appearing on her lips. You averted your gaze quickly, heat spreading across your face even more.

Lady Dimitrescu observed the scene with a wide smile, then addressed everyone at the dining table, declaring, “You may eat.”

You picked up your fork and knife, cutting into the succulent roast in front of you. Each bite was a burst of flavor, the tender meat practically melting in your mouth. You reached for your glass next, your fingertips brushing against the smooth surface of the cool crystal. Unlike the dark red liquid swirling in their glasses, yours held only clear, pure water. As you raised the glass to your lips, you paused, noticing the way everyone was staring at you. Four sets of golden eyes, radiant and unblinking, seemed to scrutinize your every move.

You frowned, a hint of unease threading into your thoughts as you wondered why they were all watching you. Swallowing thickly, you took a sip. The water was cool and refreshing, soothing your parched throat, yet there was an odd undertone to its taste, a faint hint of something unfamiliar. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was enough to make you stop drinking. You set the glass back down, the soft clink sounding louder than it should in the heavy silence.

Lady Dimitrescu watched you intently over the rim of her wine glass, taking a slow, deliberate sip.

For a moment, you felt fine, but suddenly, a cold sweat began to bead across your forehead. You tried to focus, to clear your head, but a sudden wave of dizziness hit you. The room began to spin slightly, and you had to grip the edge of the table to steady yourself. Your vision blurred momentarily, forcing you to blink rapidly to clear it. Through the haze, you could see her smile widening ever so slightly.

“Is something the matter, dear?” Lady Dimitrescu asked mockingly, her sweet tone clashing with the sadistic gleam in her eyes.

You took a deep breath, desperately trying to calm yourself, but it was no use. The dizziness worsened, making it difficult to focus on anything. Their figures began to transform into indistinct, hazy silhouettes, their features lost in the dim light. You attempted to speak, to ask what was happening, but your voice came out weak and slurred.

“W-What-” You managed to croak out, your throat tight and painfully dry.

Panic surged through you, and you shot out of your seat, the force knocking over your chair with a loud clatter. The sound echoed through the room, yet no one moved to help you. Your heart pounded fiercely in your chest, each beat sending a fresh wave of nausea through you.

“What-” you stammered, grappling with the words before you finally managed to force them out. “What the hell did you do to me!?” You demanded, your voice cracking with fear and anger.

She leisurely raised her glass of wine, taking another sip with an air of detached amusement. After swallowing, she turned her attention back, her eyes glinting with a cold, mocking light.

“Calm down, pet. You'll only tire yourself out.” Lady Dimitrescu drawled, her tone dripping with condescension.

Her daughters snickered, their cruel laughter ringing in your ears. You stumbled back from the table, attempting to get far away from them. However, your vision almost went black, and your legs buckled beneath you, sending you crashing to the floor.

A pair of arms suddenly wrapped around your waist, firm yet surprisingly gentle, preventing you from falling to the floor. With a controlled, almost tender motion, you were slowly lowered until you lay on the ground.

“Oh my.” An airy voice giggled. Daniela had caught you, her features alight with mirth as she beamed down at you.

“G-Get off me.” You mumbled, your words barely coherent as you weakly attempted to push her away from you. Daniela's grip tightened, her laughter tinkling like a delicate bell.

You heard the others chuckle as they closed in around you, forming a tight circle of predatory grins and glittering eyes. Their amusement only grew with each whimper and groan of frustration that left your lips.

Cassandra knelt beside you; her gaze fixed on your face with an over-exaggerated pout. “Oh, don't be like that.” She cooed. Her hand reached out, gently brushing the sweat-drenched hair away from your forehead. You hated her touch, but you were too weak to bat her hand away as your limbs were heavy and unresponsive.

As you looked up at Lady Dimitrescu, a mixture of fear and confusion clouded your eyes, your helplessness evident. She maintained her serene smile as she gazed down at you.

“Take her upstairs, Bela.” Lady Dimitrescu instructed softly, turning toward her eldest daughter.

“Yes, mother.” She responded.

Bela stepped forward and knelt beside you. The world around you blurred violently as she hoisted you up, the dim light of the room fading into obscurity. With the last of your strength ebbing away, your vision darkened around the edges and the overwhelming exhaustion dragged you into unconsciousness.

[angeliicheartt]

🐬 "ᴘᴜʟʟ ʜɪᴍ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ᴄʜᴀᴛ!" — send a dialogue prompt and a character and i'll write a blurb!

“i’ll always be here for you.” 🙏 i need a sickfic with my bby shinsou 😞

“ɪ’ʟʟ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ʙᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ.”

includes: hitoshi shinso

fem!reader

note: 0.9k wc, comfort, mentions of pills (medication), everyone say thank you sennie's dream for giving me creative inspo to write

you bury your head further into your irritatingly hot pillow, trying to find some sort of comfort in the sweat-drenched sheets you're lying in. it's too bright, too hot, too cold, too stuffy all at once.

waking up to your alarm this morning had practically been like a zombie rising from the dead. your head was pounding, a nasty cough burrowing into the back of your throat, and your sheets soaked with sweat. after sending a quick note to aizawa, you immediately fell back asleep and have been on and off falling in and out of sleep all day.

you feel your phone buzz, as it had been doing practically all day. a whine leaves your raspy throat as you grab the device, the bright screen causing you to squint as you hastily lower the brightness. your free hand massages your temple as you check the notifications you had received during your slumber. a couple from each of your friends, and about ten messages from your boyfriend, hitoshi.

the first few messages asking where you were during classes, and eventually lead to him figuring out you're sick and texting you every hour to see if you were up. you prop your elbows up against your mattress as you text the boy back.

checking the time, you notice that classes got out 15 minutes ago. you sigh as you lay your head against your pillow again, shutting your eyes to spare you the migraine forming at the forefront of your head. 

only seconds after you shut your eyes you hear a small knock at your dorm door. your eyebrows furrow as you crack open one eye, “what?” you call, loud enough to be heard.

“it’s your boyfriend,” a low voice calls back, the familiar tones causing your lips to quirk up if only slightly, “come in.”

the violet-haired boy enters smoothly, a takeout bag in one hand, using the other to shut your door behind him as silently as he can before padding over to you. crouching by your head his hand smooths your hair down and out of your sweaty face as he places a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“how’re you feeling?” he murmurs, placing the bag he brought in on top of your side table. 

“like shit,” you murmur against the pillow, your cheek squished against it, muddying your words. He chuckles softly, tucking your hair behind your ear as he murmurs, “im sorry, angel,”

“i brought you some soup, as well as medicine and some water bottles,” he says as he stands up once again. the dull screeching of wood against wood prods at your ears as he drags your desk chair over to be next to your bed. sitting down he unpacks the takeout bag he brought. placing the takeout bowl on the nightstand, followed by three water bottles and a small bottle of medicine. 

“you didn’t need to do all that, toshi,” you murmur, only slightly louder than a whisper due to the dull ache clouding your head. 

“i wanted to, angel,” he says softly, his deft fingers opening the container of soup as he grabs the plasticware from the bag. he stirs the soup briefly before getting a spoonful. cupping his free hand under the spoon he carefully guides it towards you. 

“you are not spoon-feeding me right now.”

“i am,” he chuckles, one eyebrow raising at your unmoving frame before you give in, propping yourself up on your elbows once again before leaning forward and taking the spoon into your mouth. 

“this is so cheesy.” you say after swallowing, watching as hitoshi readies another spoonful. 

“you haven’t eaten today, besides i’ve gotta make sure you’re back in class as soon as possible,” he says as you take another spoonful, “it's miserable without you.”

you roll your eyes as a soft smile simultaneously forms on your face. “it can’t be that bad, toshi,”

“it is.”

hitoshi tells you about his “miserable” day as he continues to feed you, and soon you finish the bowl. hitoshi places the spoon into the now empty container before tossing both into the takeout bag. he opens the bottle of medicine, popping two pills out before screwing it shut again. carefully he drops the pills into your hand before reaching to open one of the plastic water bottles he brought for you. you take the now opened water bottle before popping the pills into your mouth, chasing them down with water.

“alright then,” he huffs as he stands up, stretching his back before dragging the chair back towards your desk.

“are you leaving?” you murmur, embarrassed at how dejected you sound.

“‘course not.” he scoffs before sliding in next to you, causing you to make room for him on the small bed.

“can’t leave my girl when she’s suffering, plus i haven’t seen you all day,” he says as he buries his nose in your sweaty neck. “i need my girlfriend time.”

“‘m all sweaty and gross, toshi,” you grumble, pursuing a weak attempt at pushing hitoshi away from you. 

“mm, i know, i don’t care.” he murmurs again, his arms wrapping around your waist, his above averagely cold skin becoming sweet relief to your overheating body.

“oh shit, that feels so nice,” you sigh as you take one of his hands, placing it against your forehead before sighing once again in bliss. “never leave,”

“wasn’t planning on it, i'll always be here for you,” he mutters against your neck, planting a soft kiss before the two of you are lulled to sleep by the other’s presence.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @satelitis @whenanafallsinlove @kozumesphone @tikitsune @goobzi @sviidoll @foxnikki

[contentloadingandstuff]

Halloween Special: Basement Secrets | Hu Tao x Male!Werewolf!Reader

A/N: I know it's late, and I'm sorry for it. I'll still call it a special, since that was my original intention. Enjoy, and sorry for being late again. CW: Smut, sedatives (drugging I guess?), reader in heat, non-human genitalia.

A flick of the wrist causes the lamps to spark to life, illuminating the corridor. The Director stops to appreciate her surroundings. She guides her hand across the wall ornament, feeling the smooth, cold texture. Hu Tao hums in appreciation. The carpenter did splendidly. Maybe she should have the coffin wood polished as well? 

Her eyes gravitate towards the other end of the hallway, where a large bookcase stands. Approaching it, she puts the paper bag under her arm and reaches for one of the books. A firm tug moves the lever, allowing the furniture to be moved to the side. She doesn't need much effort - her ancestors were smart in installing rails into the floor. A gust of cold air hits her through the iron bars, causing her hair to sway slightly. The air carries a hint of fur, sweat and… 

“Ah~” She breathes it in, enjoying the scent thoroughly. Anger. Frustration. Hate. Desperation. 

Without a moment of further delay, Hu Tao slides the key into the slot and turns it twice, opening the gate. The lamps behind it, already lit by the chain reaction she started earlier, cast golden light on the many stone stairs leading downwards. She secures her entrance, pressing a button to slide the shelf back into place. It's best not to spark curiosity, even of her consultant Zhongli. 

“The ninth fell down and cried aloud, the tenth asked ‘Why?’~” She hums, going down with lively steps. She matches her feet to the increasing rhythm of her heart. It demands her to go faster, but she doesn't listen - after all, good things come to those who wait… “For the fifth won't ever come back.”

Another door, made of thick iron. There's a viewport, but she knows well what it hudes. This time, all she has to do is lift the hook and pull the handle to get in. When she does, she makes sure it doesn't close fully. 

“What do you want?” A deep, sharp voice comes from the other end of the room and Hu Tao turns to face it. The room is lit just by the dim flame of the gas lamp, leaving most of the room in complete darkness. A pair of big, yellow eyes stood out on the black backdrop. 

Hu Tao placed the bag on the desk and approached the lamp. “Do I need a reason to visit you, hm?” she says as she turns the dial of the lamp, letting the flame grow bigger. “Can't a girl check up on her-”

“I'M NOT YOUR DAMN DOG!” You lunge forward, but the thick collar around your neck stops you from slamming your body against the bars. Your captor chuckles, not even bothering to turn around. 

“... puppy~?” 

Hearing this, you let out a growl of annoyance. You would have broken out already, got rid of her and ran free if not for this damn inhibitor stuck around your throat. Not only was it forcing you into this unwieldy, overgrown form, but it was also spiked and chained to the wall - any attempt at breaking free resulted in discomfort, turning into pain. 

You back away from the bars to stop it from stinging your neck. Hu Tao withdraws a small, mesh bag of something brown. Your sensitive nose picks up the scent of jerky right away. That traitorous tail of yours starts swaying left and right as the woman presents it to you. 

“Something tasty for you, Y/N. You were such a good boy this week, weren't you?” The bag is moved close enough to the bars for you to extend your arm and hook your claw through the fabric. 

You rip it open as soon as you can, and stuff a handful into your snout. The salty, powerful, smokey taste of meat fills your mouth, finally providing something simulating. You don't notice it, but there's a slightly unusual aftertaste to the meat. You don't notice Hu Tao smiling either. 

“Thank you, Hu Tao.” You sigh in satisfaction. A little distraction was very welcome, even if it was temporary. At least you weren't thinking about the h- 

She rattles her rings on the iron bars, interrupting your thoughts. “Ah, no need to thank me, Y/N. I'm in charge of you after all.” Hu Tao scans your cell, her ember eyes coming to rest over your pillow. You follow her gaze. 

It's… a mess. The innocent fabric was torn in places and thoroughly stained with dark patches of fluid. A thick scent of musk was all over it, contributing to the stuffy air in your cell. You can't help but look down in slight embarrassment. 

“Aiya Aiya~ You've been quite a naughty boy in here, looks like. Hmph, and I have already given you treats…” She scoffs in mock disappointment. “How are you feeling, pup?”

Although your fists tighten at being referred to like a dog, again, you're too tired of it to butt heads with her. “Why are you even asking? Do you enjoy seeing me embarrassing myself here?”

As luck would have it, the Liyue people decided to catch you right before the mating season of wolves. Because of your lycanthropy, you were just as horny and snappy as them - but most of the time it wasn't a problem. You could easily find yourself a seasonal fuck buddy or visit Ying’er for a few hours each week, but with no mate to nut inside of, your instinct remained at an all time high. You had to relieve yourself through any means necessary as the need was maddening, making your cock constantly, painfully erect. The pillow had the bad luck to be around and became the victim of violent, shameless humping as you imagined it to be a welcoming pussy of a she-werewolf. But it still wasn't enough. 

What didn't help either was the fact that your captor was female. A female that, as your nose told you, fingered herself regularly, teasing your nose with her pleasure pheromones. You were almost sure she was completely aware of how big your desire to bend her over was, surely making it all the more entertaining to see you struggle. 

“Ugh. Fine, I'll play along. I'm horny all the damn time, hence the… the state of the pillow.” You clear your throat. “Yeah. And you being here doesn't help it in any way.”

Hu Tao smirks at your embarrassment. “Oh, I see~! But how could that be when you're so happy to see me, hm?” 

Your anger flares up again as she theatrically taps her chin, shamelessly looking between your legs, making you bare your teeth in response. You weren't exactly expecting to get caught, so you didn't bring along spare clothing. Clothing that was made to stretch and fit your werewolf self. It was very expensive and tailor made, so Hu Tao obviously didn't have anything like it, at the end of the day forcing you to talk to her like  the steel bar you call a werewolf cock wasn't always in her face. Guessing by the sheer amount of times she stared at it, she didn't seem to mind. 

Which pissed you off even more. She could really give you a hand right now. Or a throat. Or a cunt. You grab the bars and groan - intimidating, but tired. “Look, please, just… don't make it worse for me. Please?”

Surprisingly, she nods. Hu Tao reaches for the paper bag and pulls out a fresh, pristinely white pillow. Without a word, she passes it on to you. You eagerly swap the old one for it. As your mind anticipates the coming moment of her departure, instead of leaving, Hu Tao continues to stand in front of you. 

Before you can say anything, she moves closer to the bars. “My dear Y/N~ You may not believe me, but I do know how awful you must feel…” Her fingernails tap the steel as she speaks. “All that energy, all that need, all that lust with nowhere to deposit it all feels simply terrible.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “What's your point?”

“My point is, my dear doggy, that I have been feeling something quite similar.” There's a small tint of red on her cheeks as she says it out loud. Upon noticing the smirk on your face, she pouts. “Don't look at me like that! Us girls have needs too, I'll have you know.”

This is the last thing you expected to hear. Your mind opposed taking up the opportunity at, but luckily for you, all the blood supplied to it was quickly directed south as soon as you picked up the implication. 

You push against the bars with one hand, and - as much as the chain would allow you - lean forward. 

“Tsk. And what are you going to do about it, huh?” You ask. Hu Tao now needs to look up to see your eyes, sapping just a little of her confidence. 

“I was thinking we could make a little deal. Just a friendly agreement between pals, hm?” She points at your groin. “You lend me that slimy…” she says, stretching out the word with deliberation, “...smelly thing between your legs, and in return I let you play with my pussy. Are you up for it, big boy?”

By this point, your cock has swelled from its frustrated, semi-hard state to its proper, impressive form. Just the mention of a snatch makes the tip moisten with precum, your feral body already preparing for the mating to come. It may be a trick, though. Why would she-

Your reconsideration is cut short by Hu Tao sneaking her hand through the bars, placing it flat against your furry chest. She trails it down, caressing the bulbous pecs underneath the gray hair. You watch on as she continues, traversing the thickening line of fur as it leads downwards, her finger soon lost in the dense bush of pubes covering your groin. She lightly grazed your cock with her fingernail, dragging it from the base, over the knot and right to the tip of your canine dick, throbbing at her touch. 

“I agree…” You say with a sigh. “Just don't tease me, alright?”

You would swear her eyes sparkled when you gave in, her lips forming into a satisfied, sly smile. “Wonderful~! Good boy.”

Hu Tao walks back to the table and returns with a pair of handcuffs in her hand. Handcuffs… They are more like shackles, made of thick steel and connected with a sturdy chain. Hu Tao throws them at you, perfectly passing between the bars separating you and her. You catch it without issue. “There are only a few ‘buts’, doggie. First, the cuffs stay on. Second, you don’t cum inside. Got it?” You open your mouth to reply. to no avail. “Good. Now cuff yourself to the chair…” Turning around, your eyes lock onto the piece of furniture. You slide it from under the desk and move it to face the door, back against the wall to allow the maximum slack of your steel leash that’s possible. The shoddy wood creaks as you sit your animalistic form down, arms reaching around the headrest. Feeling your way through the process, you secure both loops around your wrists, looping the chain around the beams of the chair’s support. A tug confirms you did well. Her eyes don’t leave you for a moment. Once she sees you’re done, Hu Tao grabs the key from her pocket, as well as something from the nearby shelf you can’t quite make out, and opens up the cell. She cautiously steps in, just in case you tried to pull a funny on her. You grit your teeth in frustration… Why can’t she get it over with? It’s not like you’ll bite her. 

“Hold still.” She raises the object she took earlier, bringing it closer to your wolf snout. It’s a muzzle. As much as you’d love to lash out and bite her, this is not the time. You lower your face, submitting to her safety measures. 

“Nice! And they say werewolves are ‘bad’ and ‘rebellious’. Looks like a little enticement goes a long way, hm?”

You shift in your seat, your lust growing and patience waning. “Get on with it already!”

She sends you a mock offended look, but relents. She snatches the newly brought pillow from your bed and puts it on the stone floor before slowly kneeling down.

Your dick now eye level with her, she wraps her hand around it, feeling the heat against her skin. It's shaped starkly different from your human form’s manhood, being thick, bulbous with a knot near the base. Hu Tao glides her hand over its length, causing you to groan as she touches it. It's been swollen for far too long to be comfortable and, on top of that, it aches more with every throb of your impatient cock. Hu Tao doesn't care, focusing her attention on the bulging veins, dark blue against the furious red of the shaft. Her other hand finds its way down to your sack, cupping the furry, cum swollen balls hanging below. She rolls them between her fingers as if weighing the unspent cum inside. They're heavy, she thinks, perfectly heavy. Bringing her nose closer to the tip, her nostrils fill with the musky stink of your juices, with tangy hints of still fresh cum stuck in your fur. 

“Fufu~ That thing is even more impressive up close…” Looking you in the eye, she giggles as she flicks the tip of your cockhead. You squirm in response, instinctually baring your teeth. “I’m afraid to ask what kind of plans you had for me~”

Soon you feel the slick, hot tongue of the director flick curiously against your head, lapping up the precum leaking from the slit. It tickles more than anything, so you try to inch your hips a bit closer, as much as the chair would allow. But she didn't listen, even if you didn't have to wait long to feel the flat of her small tongue rub against your shaft. It feels good, but it's nowhere near enough. You move your hips backwards, trying to bring the tip closer to her lips, but she grips the base tightly, keeping it in place as she continues to worship your shaft. It's slow, but eventually the consistent grinding of her wet tongue stirs some pleasure in you. You focus your attention on the feeling, praying for it to be enough to make you cum. She feels you throb in appreciation, eliciting a satisfied hum from her. Suddenly, she stops, switching her tongue for her hand and wrapping her lips around your tip. You whine at the sudden stimulation. Finally…! As her speeds up and her wet mouth sucks you deeper inside, pressure starts to build in your knot. A moan escapes your lips as she sucks and strokes, your orgasm drawing closer by the second. Each throb makes her take you deeper, you can feel the back of her throat rub against you when her head bobs up and down. Your thighs tense up in expectation. Almost… Almost… Almost…!

She stops. Hu Tao takes her hand away from you and spits your cock out of her mouth’s warmth, letting it flop down, sad and unsatisfied. You can only whine in confusion as you feel your orgasm fading slowly. 

“W-what…? Why did you stop…” You stutter out, your voice turning angry at her smile. “Oh you-”

“Heh, did I say anything about you finishing?” She dismissively throws her twintails behind her shoulders. “Good things come to boys who wait. And I bet you'll be the best boy, won't you Y/N?”

This. Little. Nasty. Witch. Your thoughts buzz with both anger and desperation as you feel your release slipping away. “I'll be good, just let me cum… I need it…”

She takes off her hat and reverently places it on the bed. “Mm~ Say it, doggie! I want to hear it, and if I like it, I might just give you something better~”

With that, she reaches to the strings of her coat, undoing them with little issue. Your impatience is temporarily replaced by excitement, your tail swishing as she strips her jacket, revealing a short-sleeved red shirt underneath. You can see two points poking through the fabric on opposite sides of her chest.  She looks at you, waiting. 

“I want to see more, please…” You plead, feeling a heat on your face as you say it. 

“You can do better.” She reaches for her coat, now thrown on the bed, causing the beast inside you to flare up in alarm. You try to spring up, only to be dropped by the cuffs. 

“Wait! Please, Hu Tao, I want to see them…” Desperate and horny, you swallow your pride and continue. “I want to s-see your tits, please!”

Just moments ago, you were ready to tear into her. Now, you plead with her for some boobs. And she'll make you beg for her cunt to - you'll do as she wants and you know it. The animalistic heat is too strong to ignore, forcing you to give in to its demands.  

Clearly satisfied with your words, she undoes the buttons holding her cover together. Her hands pull it open, revealing an exceptionally flat chest with two perky, rock-hard nipples. You twitch in excitement, harder still when she guides her hand down to her shorts. She pulls them down, revealing a pristine white pair of panties, decorated with a pink ribbon near the band. Her finger sneaks underneath it and pulls it down just enough to reveal a small patch of brown hair, dense yet neatly trimmed. 

She was preparing for this, wasn't she…

Hu Tao steps out of her pants and approaches you, sitting her half-bare ass on your lap. Teasing, she props your dick against her clothed slit. She presses it down, letting your precum soak into the silk and feel the warmth underneath. She rocks her hips against you, grinding at a slow and deliberate pace. Your eyes are fixed on her steady movements, the words slipping out of your lips going unnoticed by your lust-filled brain. “Please…” You beg. “Please put it in already…!” She smirks. “No way this will fit inside me, pretty boy. Do you see how big it is?” Hu Tao presses it against her stomach. The hefty cock really does look quite intimidating, the tip going way above her belly button. “But I bet you’d like to fuck me regardless, hm?”

Her hand undoes the string holding her panties together, letting them fall open. They are promptly tossed aside, letting you finally see her heat in its full glory, her lips swollen and sticky with lust. Blushing, she continues rubbing herself with your dick and you can painfully feel her swollen, pretty clit gliding on you and her own juice. 

Each stroke of her lips makes you hurt. She’s so close, but so far… Your heart beats faster and faster and faster and faster still as your body writhes in anger. You try to sit still, try to enjoy the feeling as much as you can but the wolf within you demands her. Your canine mind feels the insignificant weight on your lap and feels the cuffs are just a little malleable… How easy it would be to break out and take her properly… It wants it, relentlessly, and your mind soon succumbs. 

Gritting your teeth, you focus your attention on your wrists. You grasp the cuffs with your thumbs and pull with all your strength. Hu Tao is blushed, too focused on pleasing herself to notice the tension in your arms. You feel the steel bending and stretching, doubling your efforts. The edges of the metal dig painfully into your furred flesh, surely leaving painful welts that will last for days, but you don’t care. You almost… can… feel…

Snap!

Hu Tao’s face snaps up to look at you. Her eyes go wide. 

“W-wha-?!” The word gets stuck in her throat as your massive left hand snatches her neck, the other pushing you up as you raise. Your form stands tall, ears nearly touching the ceiling, obscuring the light of the lamp inside and casting an ominous shadow over Hu Tao, currently dangling from your outstretched arm. 

“L-let go of… me!” You don’t choke her tightly, but her words still come out raspy. She hits her small fists on your hand, but they do little against rippling werewolf muscle. Her legs are far too small to reach your chest or stomach, even if those meat stilts could do any damage. “You… b-brute…!”

You lift her higher, bringing up her pussy to your nose. The salty, musky scent of her sex overwhelms your sensitive nose, making your eyes water. There’s no fear amongst the smell, just eagerness, lust and… fertility. 

“Ngah~!” She whines as your rough tongue reaches out and gives her a probing lick, feeling up the willing cunt in front of you. You slide it from her clit down to her entrance. A whimper flees her lips as you push your way in, her mock struggles ceasing as she feels you tasting her. “Mhm…”  

She tastes delicious, making you push yourself further inside. Your hand goes from her throat to her ass, tilting her to the side to allow you better access. With an effortless move, you rip off your muzzle, letting it fall to the floor with a loud clunk. You waste no time and press your nose between her pussy lips, drawing in more of her scent. Her arms drift from your wrist and land on your head, fingers digging into the fur as her legs lock over your neck for support. Hu Tao rocks her hips, enticing you to explore deeper. You oblige and soon you feel her flesh pulsate around your intrusion as she clings onto you for dear life. You take it all in, scent, taste, slick and bumpy texture of her hole… But you can’t take it much longer. It wasn’t made for your tongue. 

You pull back, leaving a string of saliva connecting you to her. She squeaks in surpise as unceremoniously toss her on the bed. When she lands, her eyes immediately turn to you as she flips on her back. “A-ayia ayia…” She stutters out, flushed, watching you slowly approach her. She opens her legs, hoping to buy your mercy. “Please be gentle…” But you have no plans for that. Even if you did, your heat doesn’t give a damn. You grab her waist and flip her around. Before she can regain her balance, you clasp your claws around her ass and pull her closer, dragging the sheet that she’s desperately holding along with her. When she feels your talon drag between her cheeks, you feel her skin crawl and shudder in response. Her back is arched as you examine your prey. You groan as soon as you notice and deliver a rough open palm on her ass. “Waah!” She whimpers, feeling the sting on her skin. She fixes her posture, making proper space for your full length. 

Your tail starts swishing in excitement as you lift up your leg and stomp it down next to her face. You grab your cock and guide it towards her entrance. In a bit of vengeance, you rub the tip between her hungry lips, smearing them with thick precum. Before she can get comfortable though, your ram into her, burying yourself balls deep inside her. 

Both of you moan in joint ecstasy as you fill her to the brim. Unable to control yourself, you start moving. Dictating the pace, all Hu Tao can do is clench the blanket for dear life as you begin pistoning in and out of her. The room fills with a symphony of triumphant growls, desperate whimpers and obscene sounds of your nuts repeatedly slapping against her wet slit. Her eyes roll back as she endures your violent coupling, her eyes crying tears of mixed pain and pleasure. She feels her small pussy being stretched to its absolute limits, feeling herself throb as her body, confused between fear and mindless lust, fights back against the too big intrusion. Her tries to meet you halfway are met with no result as every snap of your hips pushes her back. She can’t think straight with a cock impaled into her so deep, so any thoughts quickly leave her mind with the many moans she shamelessly lets sound out. 

Feeling your much needed release draw closer, you dig your claws into her small ass, eliciting a whine from your mate. You shift into a merciless pace that sends bruising ripples across her body, the beast inside you caring only for the tension in his nuts. At last you strike forward, forcing the knot into her tight hole. She wails, arching her head backwards to meet your eyes. You lean forward and wrap your arms around her torso, keeping her close as you unload, each throb of your cock flooding her ravaged insides. 

Slowly, your mating fury dies down, and an overwhelming sense of exhaustion sets in. Hu Tao remains still under you, still too blazed by the intensity of your fuck. Her pleasure rotted mind still sits between her legs when the clarity hits you, relaxing your muscles and letting your exhausted cock finally soften. With a groan, you pull yourself out with a small noise from her to go along with it. A moment later dense cream emerges from inside her, starting to lazily drip out. 

You feel your head spin, soon followed by a trembling of your arms and knees. You move Hu Tao closer to the wall and collapse next to her, large arms pulling her close to your furry chest. 

A moment later, thoughts start to sprout back in Hu Tao’s fucked out mind. She groans - everything either hurts, is sore, or can’t be felt at all. Especially her hips. “D-damn you..” She mumbles, rubbing the tears from her eyes. Well, she thinks, she deserved it. Could she not have provoked you? Maybe. Was it totally worth it? Hell yes. 

Hu Tao reaches her hand around to touch your nose. No response. She breathes a sigh of relief, thanking herself for sneaking that sedative into your snacks. Looks like she still had some sense in her when her panties were soaked. 

Your arm is quite comfortable. She snuggles her head into the crook of your arm, enjoying the softness of your monstrous form’s fur. Absent-mindedly, her hand glides over her belly. Hopefully lycanthropy isn’t hereditary…

Thanks for reading!

[thatesqcrush]

Reel Temptation

Rafael Barba x f!reader. P*rn star! Barba AU.

WC: 2.6K

Summary: It’s the Golden Age of P*rn, circa 1970s. Reader accompanies roommate to a casting call for an adult film. Little does she know that her life is about to change when she meets the male lead.

NSFW for language, talk about sex work and adult films, smoking (cigarettes and recreational drug use).

AN: s/o to @beccabarba for being my soundboard and never wavering encouragement.

AN2: sex work is work. Sex work will always exist - we need to make it safer for sex workers to do their jobs. Continued criminalization of sex work and sex workers is a form of violence by governments and contributes to the high level of stigma and discrimination.

AN3: this is a repost of part one as Tumblr decided it was too explicit & hid it from public view.

The apartment in California was a relic of the 1970s, steeped in the bold, eclectic charm of the era. Low-slung, avocado-green sofas sprawled across the shag-carpeted living room, beneath the warm glow of a globe-shaped chandelier. Wood-paneled walls held abstract prints, while hanging plants in macramé holders swayed gently by the sliding glass doors. In the kitchen, harvest gold appliances hummed quietly, surrounded by dark wood cabinets and a linoleum floor with a dizzying geometric pattern. The bedroom, with its velvet curtains and paisley bedspread, whispered of cozy nights in a space reflecting the free spirited culture of the time.

“Come on!”

A pillow landed on your head. You groaned as you rolled over, facing your roommate, Sadie who was in process of flicking her hair into wings. “I don’t want to go. Three’s Company’s on and this is the episode where there is some kind of understanding.”

“So you’ve already seen it then. Please,” Sadie begged. “You can read lines with me.”

You sat up further and sat with your legs crossed. “Since when do pornos have a plot line?” you sneered.

“It’s not porn - it’s really classy. It’s legit,” your roommate continued. She turned from the vanity to look at you. “Please.”

You let out an irritated sigh as you rolled your eyes. “Fine, fine, fine,” you grumbled. “Where’s this place anyway?”

“In the Valley.”

You stretched your arms as you stood, your shirt lifting exposing your midriff as you did so. “You’re paying for the gas. And any snacks.”

***

The casting office was small and seedy, reeking of smoke and something else. There was a line of women of all shapes and sizes waiting to be called. There’s a desk where an older, bald man is flipping through photos. It’s hot and sticky, the humidity suffocating despite a ceiling fan and standing fan going off on high.

There’s another room adjacent and in there, another man stands a few paces back, fiddling with the view-finder on a film camera. You sit on a peeling linoleum chair next to Sadie as you peruse the so-called script.

“Sadie, are you sure about this?”

Sadie chewed on her bottom lip, thinking. She nodded after a bit. “Yes, totally sure.” The tone in her voice however, led you to believe she was maybe trying to convince herself.

“Look, we can just go,” you whispered. “No one’s gonna give a shit. Or notice for that matter.”

You stood and faced her, outstretching your arm. “Come on, you don’t even have to pay me for the gas.”

A man’s voice filled the room and you heard the gaggle of ladies giggle and swoon. When you turned around, your breath hitched.

“That’s him - that’s my co-star…,” Sadie replied, a large grin on her face. “Hopefully!”

“That’s your … who is he?” you questioned, dropping your arm as you drank him in. Dark hair, thick sideburns, and a full, bushy - but well groomed- mustache. He wore a collared shirt with a bold pattern and fitted flare jeans. His shirt was slightly unbuttoned, revealing a dark chest hair.

His overall appearance exuded confidence and a laid-back charm, embodying the free-spirited, adventurous spirit of the time.

He’s painfully handsome, good-looking in a way that disarms you, making you feel giddy, like a child waiting to meet Santa. He’s so handsome it is almost burning, as if you cannot look at him full on.

“His name is Rafael Barba, but on screen he goes by ‘The Judge.’

You whipped your head to the other voice, this time female and not Sadie’s.

This woman was tall and drop dead gorgeous with high cheekbones and chestnut hair. “Names Olivia. I help book the girls.”

Her gaze fell on you and Sadie and you had a feeling that she was mentally adding you both up.

“First timer?”

Olivia’s sharp gaze landed on you and you shook your head. “Not me. Her.” You jutted your thumb at Sadie.

Olivia narrowed her eyes. “Maybe,” she murmured to herself, dropping her gaze. She looked up at you once more. “Let me go speak to The Judge.”

Sadie squealed. “Oh my God, it’s happening!” She bounced in place.

You rolled your eyes and watched Olivia go over to “The Judge,” who was flirting with the gaggles of women. She tapped his shoulder and then whispered something in his ear. He gave a curt nod, before following her. The Judge is even more handsome up close and his body is thick, in a functionally fit kind of way. The way you knew the weight of him would feel oh so fucking good on top of you, crushing you. A jolt of pleasure coursed through you and as you felt your cheeks heat, but you chalked it up to the heat.

The Judge stroked his chin as was now his turn to assess. He turned to Olivia and pointed to you, whispering in hushed tones. Olivia nodded in response, and you’re only able to make out an ‘I agree.’

The Judge stalked off and Olivia turned around to face the line of still-swooning women. “Casting is over. We’ve got our girl. Come back tomorrow.”

The group of women begin to groan and complain about wasted time and it not being fair as they dispersed. Olivia made her way back to you and Sadie.

“So here’s the deal,” she began and pointed at you. “I know you’re not here for this, but The Judge wants you.”

“Me?” you exclaimed at the same time Sadie replied incredulously, “Her?”

“No no, you made a mistake. I have no interest…” your voice dies off as Olivia narrowed her eyes once more on you.

“He wants you. And he’s willing to double the pay at his cost.”

You shake your head incredulously. “This cannot be happening.”

“Wait, what about me?” Sadie chimed in.

“I didn’t forget about you sweetheart. You’ll be our fluff girl.”

“Fluff girl?” You questioned, puzzled.

“Basically your girl will give a handy or blow to keep his cock up on set. After setting up the desired angle, the director usually requests the actors to hold position, which can be a bit… deflating. The fluff makes sure the actors are fully inflated for the shot.”

“And how much does that pay?” Sadie questioned, her tone disappointed. The pay is a quarter of the original pay. Sadie huffed. “What if I don’t want to?”

“Then the door is right there,” Olivia replied sharply. She turned to you. “What do you think? You in?”

Your brain is swirling and your cunt is throbbing at the idea of being fucked by The Judge. Before you can allow for rationality to seep in, you nod. “No way, no thank you.”

Olivia cocked her head. “Shame. He thought you had it in you.”

“Me?” You squeaked. “It’s just that I— I’ve never—”

“We get it all the time. The good girls who wouldn’t ever dare, the ones who clutch their pearls. It’s just fucking. It’s not that serious. You’re telling me you’ve never fucked before?”

You shook your head. “Of course I have.”

“Okay, so how is this any different? In fact, it’s better. You get paid.”

Olivia switched her gaze from you to Sadie. She gave her a once over again. “You know what, I could use you for another film. I’ve got this other guy, Sonny - real nice on the eyes. Think you’d be perfect. What do you think? I’ll pay you to fluff and for a movie?”

Sadie brightened. “Yeah, perfect.”

Olivia grinned. “I’ll put you up at the motor lodge nearby. Be here tomorrow at noon.” She turned to you again. “What about you sweetheart? Am I wasting my time? Are you telling me that I have to call all of those women back?”

You sucked in air between your teeth and thought about how fucking sexy The Judge was. And so you decided there and then with what was in between your legs, than what was in between your ears.

“I’m in.”

***

You arrived the next afternoon with Sadie. Another assistant - a blonde woman named Amanda - was having you sign off various consent forms.

“Do you have any limits? The Judge wants to know.”

“Limits?” You questioned. “What do you—“

“Jesus Christ,” Amanda replied exasperated. “Olivia told me that you had sex before. Was that a lie?”

“No!” You replied sharply. Amanda raised a brow and you lowered your voice. “Never had any complaints from my boyfriends.”

Amanda smirked. “Limits are shit that you don’t want to do. For instance, anal, golden showers - being pissed on,” she clarified when she saw the confused look on your face. “So if you don’t want to do something, then you let us know.

You cocked a brow. “Um, I guess anything involving piss. And shit, if that’s a thing too.”

Amanda laughed before she lit a cigarette. “Believe me, there are lots of fucked up people out there who like to do all sorts of fucked up stuff - shit included. So you’re good with butt stuff?”

You nodded. “I haven’t done it much, but yeah. I’m good for it.”

Amanda gave you a lascivious, devious grin. “Perfect.”

***

You were shown to your changing room and told to get in a robe. Some test shots were needed to make sure lighting was good. There was another handsome man, with dark hair and dark eyes. He was behind the camera, adjusting the viewfinder.

“Hey,” you reply quietly. The man lifted his gaze and looked over at you. A shit-eating grin spread on his face.

“Hey princess. I’m Nick, I’m the videographer.” He snapped the gum he was chewing. “When you’re ready, just stand in front of the screen and undo your robe, just the top.”

You swallowed nervously, your heart hammering in your chest. “Okay.” You did as he said, your nipples instantly hardening due to the air.

Nick let out a whistle and nodded. “Those are some real nice tits. Real pretty.”

You blushed, feeling your cheeks heat. “Thanks.”

Before long you were doing a full nude shot. Mid-one shot where you where on all fours, looking back at the camera, Olivia walked in. She nodded. “Looking good honey. Got your friend Sadie already in a scene with Sonny. And The Judge is mid-scene.”

You blinked. “Really? Could I watch? Just to get a better idea of what it’ll be like for me?”

Nick snapped his gum and let out a little grunt. Olivia narrowed her eyes. “Nick, you’ve got enough shots, I am sure. Give her a break, she’s a newbie.”

Nick rolled his eyes. You donned your robe back on. Nick walked over your way and jutted his head. “Come on, I’ll take you.”

You followed Nick down a few hallways and soon enough, your ears picked up the sounds of someone clearly getting fucked. The room was small and tight, the crew basically taking up the entirety of the space. You squeezed your way in, the air thick with the scent of sex, lube and sweat. You watched the scene before you completely transfixed and enraptured. There before you was The Judge fucking some woman on a couch. Her legs were in the air as he gripped them tightly, fucking her without abandon.

You felt yourself grow wet as The Judge railed this woman thoroughly, dragging his cock through her slick pussy, over and over.

“Such a good slut, taking my cock so well,” The Judge grunted.

The woman wailed as she came, her tits bouncing in tandem with the pace of being fucked.

“Gonna come,” The Judge grunted. He slid his cock out and your pussy clenched in response. His cock was big and thick, an angry shade of red- almost purple, covered in the woman’s slick ready to bust. ‘Jesus Christ,’ you thought. ‘How am I going to fit that in me?’

He stroked himself over her stomach and then came with a long, low, almost guttural groan. The white ropes of his release coat her stomach, catching the obnoxious overhead lighting.

“Cut!”

The director’s voice snapped you out of your reverie.

The woman sat up and stood, before grabbing a robe to slip on, leaving it hanging open. She leaned over to grab a towel to wipe herself. The Judge slipped on his pants, foregoing underwear. He looked up and met your gaze.

"You think you can keep up, sunshine?"

You read the surprise in his eyes as you replied. "I can take anything you dish out, bub."

The Judge smirked. “Rafael Barba.” He extended his hand and you shook it in response. You relayed your name and he repeated it slowly, as if savoring it. And the way he said it was just delicious.

“Liv told me you have never done this before.”

You furrowed your brows. “Sex or porn?”

Rafael laughed and he reached into his back pocket to pull out a pack of Marlboros. He offered you one and you took it. He slid a lighter from his front pocket and flicked it open and offered it out. You take a step closer, leaning forward to dip the tip of your cigarette into the flame. It ignited and you step back, smoke mingling in the air.

“Porn. If you had been a virgin, I would be fucking your friend and not you in about an hour.”

You nodded before taking a drag. “Nope, definitely not a virgin. You blew out smoke before you continued, “So what is our scene or whatever?”

“Liv didn’t tell you?” Rafael seemed amused. “We have a whole courtroom set up. You’re gonna be the lawyer who gets called into chambers.”

Your eyes widened a little. “Oh.”

“I figure we’ll start with some oral, both of us and the I’ll fuck you from behind over the desk. I’ll finish on your ass. That work?”

You ran through it in your mind. “What about if I lay on my back on the desk and you can finish on my tits?”

Rafael ran a finger through his mustache as he eyed you. His voice was low and dark as he replied. “Yeah, that’d work sunshine. I’ll take the lead.” He was still shirtless and you eyed him appreciatively.

Rafael lifted your chin with his finger and your eyes met his. “Seriously. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” He winked and you flushed in response, already sensing the charge in the air.

Rafael eyed your robe, not completely undone but a little loose. He traced a finger over the trim by the opening. “Do you mind if I get a peek?”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, suddenly feeling vulnerable. Part of you was excited, thrilled by the risquéness of it all. The other part was that he was a stranger - the men who had seen you naked were boyfriends who awkwardly groped you in the backseat of cars or movie theaters.

You swallowed and nodded before undoing your robe, letting it fall to your lower back. You felt hot as Rafael immediately licked his lips. “Fuck, those are some pretty tits.”

You felt yourself blush in response.

“May I?” Rafael asked and it took you a second to realize that he meant if he could touch you. You nodded.

His hands were large, with long dexterous fingers, well manicured and patterned with veins. You watched his hand flex and you knew instantly, every movement intentional. Patterned with veins, well manicured, with unexpected strength. His skin was warm and soft. Rafael’s touch began rather innocently, along your arm up to along your shoulder. He then brought it down your clavicle to your sternum. He cupped one breast with his hand, feeling the weight of it against his palm. When his finger brushed your nipple, a bolt of pleasure shot down to your core. You couldn’t help but let out a soft moan.

“Mmmm, so responsive,” Rafael said, his voice dark and low. “We really are going to have a lot of fun,” Rafael replied once more as he took a drag of his smoke.

TBC.

AN4: Lmk if you want to be tagged when I post part two!

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Hello, could you do a dark/yandere Marc or Steven with a reader who has low self esteem and has never loved anyone before? If not, that’s okay.

Hi Anony! <3 I can do that and since you asked for Marc or Steven, I'll make both! :)

Marc and Steven with a reader who has low self esteem and never felt any love

Note: Sorry for being a bit late, I was rewriting some stuff at the Steven part because I made him way too soft at first lol.

Pairing:

Yandere Steven Grant x reader

Yandere Marc Spector x reader

-

Warnings/triggers: Obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of stalking, kidnapping, reader thinks low of themself!

Steven

You stirred softly, eyes slowly opening, making you feel the headache and lightheadedness. You tried moving your hand to touch your head. But your wrist was restrained. Panic began to set in as you looked down on yourself to see your ankles restrained aswell. You took in your surroundings, a small place looking like an apartment room and in the center of the place was a fish tank with a single Goldfish swimming inside. Questions began to form in your head

Why would someone kidnap you? You were just another lowlife on this planet, who never got the chance to love or being loved.

The only person that seemed to like you was the man who worked at the Museum, the guy who wanted to be a tour guide and seemed to have literally studied everything about Egypt. He was always so kind to you, almost too kind. What was his name again? Something with a V, right?

Why would you think he kidnapped you? He seemed like a nice guy after all, he didn't seem like he was capable of such things...

You started trying to yank one of your limbs free, but the restraints were too strong. Realizing you couldn't get out of there by yourself, you remembered being held in a possible apartment complex, so your best and possible only chance was to scream.

Just as you were about to scream your lungs out, you heard the sound of keys getting inserted in the front door. You quickly stopped all movement, closing your eyes to pretent you're asleep, but the your raging heart made in very difficult to try so.

The front door opened, you squinted your eyes open just a tiny bit so you were able to see the silhouette of the person while tricking the person to be still asleep.

The man hummed softly to himself, carrying a bag in his hand before he went past the bed you were laying on towards his corner with the desk. He put the bag down, removed his jacket and went to the kitchen.

You took his brief disappearance to try to yank your arm free, the wood from the headboard creaked, making you get desperate in trying to escape. You were so focused in getting out, that you didn't realize how loud you were.

Soon came a voice from the direction of the kitchen;

"Hey, are you awake?"

You instantly stopped, the sudden call caught you off guard, however the voice sounded familiar.

Footsteps echoing off the walls as he made his way to you, turning on the light and making his way over to the bed.

At seeing him clearly thanks to the light, you gave him an confused look, "Y-you are that guy..." you stuttered.

He gave a soft chuckle in return "So you remember me, hm?"

"Yes but I forgot your name." You replied.

"Steven. My name's Steven." He sat down at the edge of the bed.

Steven.

"Why am I here? Why me? And what do you want?" You asked with a mix of confusion and nervousness.

Steven laughed softly, "You ask alot of questions for being lightheaded."

"Steven, can you please undo those restraints? Atleast make me able to sit up." You pleaded.

"Why don't you rest a lil' bit? I'm sure you need time to process all this, yeah?" He patted your leg gently before standing up.

"W-wait! Can I get some water?" You protested, hopefully making him release you.

"Water? Oh yeah, right, water. Of course." Steven chuckled to himself and made his way back to the kitchen. He came back a minute later with your glass of water, setting it down on the nightstand. "Alright, I'm gonna release your wrists now. But don't think about sneaking away, you hear me?" Steven's voice was soft but the warning was still audible.

Once you nodded he removed the restraints from your wrists so you were able to drink. With a trembling hand, you guided the glass to your lips, taking a few much needed sips before setting it down again.

"Need something for your head? I got something." Steven asked softly.

'Now he wants to drug you? No that's stupid, he already kidnapped you, why would he want to drug you?' you thought

"Yes, thanks." You forced a smile.

Steven nodded and got the med for you.

While you were resting Steven took the time to sort the stuff from his bag before he returned to you after "Feeling better now?" He asked.

"Yeah. But why did you kidnap me?" You asked.

Steven paused, "I...I don't know what came over me, you were always so nice to me, I really started to like you, always so happy to see you, couldn't wait to see you, actually. I even followed you home a few times." He slipped up at the end.

Your eyebrows arched up "You were stalking me?"

Steven cringed a bit "I wouldn't necessarily call it 'stalking'. Just made sure you arrived home savely, y'know, with all those weirdos runnin' around."

"But why would anyone want to kidnap me? What makes me so special?" You asked softly.

Steven frowned "What do you mean?"

You sighed softly, "Nobody loves me, so why even bother kidnapping me? There are better people than me, you know."

Steven raised his eyebrows "That's not true, why are you saying this?"

"I just know it..." You replied flatly, feeling the familiar pressure in your throat signaling tears were not far from spilling out.

Steven bit his lower lip, "Love, come here," he sat down beside you opening his arms for you and you hesistantly leaned in, resting your head against his shoulder, "listen, you are the most beautiful person I've came across." Steven cooed softly, reaching out and gently stroking your hair. "Here, let me get you more comfortable." He removed one of the restraints on your ankles but only loosened the other one just incase.

"You don't meant it, you're only telling me to make me feel at ease." You sniffled.

"No, I mean it." Steven insisted.

"If you mean it then let me go." You demanded.

Steven hummed somewhat amused, "My my, then your kidnapping would be for nothin' don't you think?"

"I promise I won't tell anyone." You pleaded.

"I know you won't." Steven said softly, pulling back gently to get up, "Want something to eat?"

"Not hungry." You shook your head, not wanting to prolong his stay so you could try and run.

"I'll be back, but you wait here, alright?" He said before he turned to walk away. Just as he turned, you took your chance, completely forgetting about the still loose restraint around your ankle, but before the restraint roughly yanked on your ankle and you were about to fall face first onto the floor, Steven catched you mid-air, saving you from the impact.

"See? If you run and I wouldn't be there with you, you'd fall and hurt yourself pretty nasty." He pulled you back on the bed beside him.

"Please let me go. I won't even tell anyone about this, you have my word." You pleaded.

Steven gave you an apologig look "Lemme be honest with you for a second. Y'see, I am the only person who will truly love you. You say to yourself you're not worth anything yeah? I'm not sorry to break it to you, but you are worth of everything."

You just stared at him, you couldn't come up with any arguments.

Steven took your silence and continued, "Feel free to call me crazy but you are just a wonderful person. And if you can't see the worth you have, then I'll make you see it. I promise you that." Steven gently wrapped an arm around your back, pulling you closer.

"That's...I don't even know what to say." You let yourself getting pulled back into his arms, "I've never heard anyone say that to me." you sniffed, the tears building up in your eyes, running down your cheeks, some even into Steven's shirt. You hugged him tightly.

"It's alright, love. It's alright. You don't need to prove your worth to anyone else now, because you have me, and you only need me. I will always love you, I will even spoil you. You'll see."

All these times thinking you were nothing, no love, no happieness faded away as Steven hugged you, brushing the tears away and kissing you softly on your head with the promise of many, many more kisses to come.

-

Marc

Slowly, you came back to your senses, feeling dizzy and the sweet smell was still prominent as you breathed through your nose. You were laying on a soft bed and to your surprise, no restraints were used to hold you in place. Your hands instinctively moving to your pocket to grab your phone, but it was snatched from you. You took another breath through your nose, cringing at smelling the lingering sweet smell again.

Who would have thought that you trip back from Cairo would get you kidnapped. You just got saved from a group of assholes, swinging and posing around with their knives after a kid stole your wallet and made you chase him into an alleyway where the others showed up. Thankfully a man wearing a hat saved you, knocking a few of them out before that kid and another guy shat their pants and ran. You remember how your savior looked back at you, gave you a quick nod before he went to chase the ones that ran.

Where are you?

Did those guys somehow tracked you down and came back?

Is whoever kidnapped you going to kill you?

You propped yourself on your elbows, it was already night by looking out of the window. You sat up, looking around one last time before getting up and made your way to the door of the room.

You opened the door slowly and carefully. There was another room opposite from you and a small hallway towards what looked like the living area. On your way, to your right was another room, peering inside was the well cleaned bathroom, and another room to your left. You made light steps, thinking whoever kidnapped you might still be here somewhere. You arrived at the living area, taking a moment to take the place in, it was a tidy place, a nice couch, big flatscreen tv, some medals hanging on the wall, in the corner of the room was a counter with what looked like Scotch and other hard hitting stuff.

You saw the front door, looking over your shoulder to make sure no one is sneaking up behind you before tiptoeing to it. So focused on getting the hell away from the place, you tripped over a bag on the side with a thud. Looking at it, you saw a pistol peeking just over the zipper. You quickly rose, made the last few steps to the front door and pulling on the handle, only to find that the door was locked. Seeing no other way out, you thought about getting back to the room and try the window. But before you could do that, a voice came from behind you making you jump. Then the light was flicked on, making you squint from the sudden brightness.

"Thought I'd be that stupid, huh?"

Feeling like you just got caught stealing you slowly turned around, seeing him leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. You could see he had your phone in his hand. The guy looked familiar to you, like you've seen him before but couldn't remember correctly.

"Please- I-I...whoever you think I am or what you want, you kidnapped the wrong person." You nervously tried to talk your way out.

He scoffed "Wrong person? You? Nah, I think I got just the right one."

You looked back on the now dark green bag you tripped over and pointed at it "And why the gun? You gonna kill me or something?"

Marc just raised an eyebrow and tilted his head slightly "Kill you? Just because I have some guns? Don't you remember me? Damn, the chloroform really knocked you out." he tried not to laugh.

"Why did you kidnap me? I haven't done anything, I was just trying to get back home." you replied.

"Well... it's... complicated..." He sighed.

"Can't you let me go? I swear I won't tell anyone. No one would believe me anyway. I mean, it seems like you're in the Military, so you sure know how to keep tabs on someone." You tried talking yourself out.

Marc shrugged "I have my ways. And yeah I was. Incase you don't know my name, I am Marc. And before you tell me your name, you don't have to, I already know it."

You took a step away from the door. "Marc, look, I don't know who told you to kidnap me, all I can tell you is, I'm not worth it, I have nothing I could give you, I'm not worth anything. Hell, I am not even worth getting kidnapped..." The sadness in your voice could be heard.

"Some pretty harsh words you're throwing at yourself there, don't you think?" He asked.

"But it's true. Those guys you saved me from, they only target the low ones, they know no one would miss them or put some effort on them." You stated.

Marc didn't admit it, but he felt how you feel, given his childhood with his abusive mother. "Listen," he uncrossed his arms and stepped closer to you, "those assholes were preying on anybody who was walking alone, it wasn't your fault."

"Then tell me why you kidnapped me." You demanded softly.

Marc paused, "I gotta admit I saw you quite a few times walking alone, I never saw you with anyone, and to be honest it was only a matter of time before someone jumped on you."

"So you stalked me?" You replied bluntly.

Marc thought about how to not come off as a creep, "No- I, I saw them looking at you, following you silently before that stupid kid took your wallet. So you could say I was your guardian angel."

That was only half-true, he was watching you more often than he just admitted and knew almost everything about you. You were often hanging around at the center of the popular market, where he was too. In other words he saw you almost every day.

"Thanks for that, really. It means a lot. But please let me go, I won't cause anymore trouble, I will be more careful now." You pleaded.

"I don't think that's a good idea. Look, I never actually catched the other guy and I'm sure they're bigger than that group you were attacked by. You know how such gangs deal with people who escaped, right?" Marc lied. Of course he dealt with the group, he was just manipulating you into thinking they were still out there, looking for some kind of revenge.

"Then I will go to the police. I'll get myself pepper spray for defense and use it if something would happen." You answered nervously.

Marc reached behind himself "What if they show up with this?" he pulled out a gun, he held it with only his thumb and indexfinger, a non-threatingly way, "You think pepper spray could outrun a bullet? Not to mention you could hit your own eyes if you don't use it correctly."

You sighed, "I'm a no one, nobody would miss me if I-...." You trailed off, but Marc knew what you were about to say.

"That's nonsense, you're so much more worth than you admit it yourself. If you were a no one, then why would I have saved you, hm? Because I had nothing else to do?" Marc said softly, "No, because you are worth so much more, you just refuse to see it. But I saw it." Marc slowly made his way to you, putting the gun back and showing you his palms to make you see he did mean it.

"But-but you don't know me. How would you know?" You stuttered, suddenly feeling the urge to cry.

If only you knew how much Marc really knows about you.

"I know if people have their worth or not. Besides... I kinda feel how you felt. But that's a different story." Marc replied softly.

Your eyes were a bit glassy, you never thought someone would think about you the way Marc did and the more you thought about it, the more swelled your eyes became before tears started running down your cheeks. You blinked, looking away to try and hide your face. Marc came to you, gently hugging and patting the back of your head

"Hey, it's okay. You can let it out, I'm here." He cooed softly, feeling how you returned to hug, crying and sobbing.

"D-did you mean what you said?" you sniffed.

"Of course I did. Why would I lie about such thing?" He reassured you.

"No one has ever said something like that to me." You sniffed again.

"Now someone did. And as long as you hear it from me, you don't need to hear it from anyone else, because you only need me." Marc replied somewhat cheekily.

"Thank you, Marc." Marc could hear the genuine smile in your voice, making him hug you a bit tighter.

"I gotcha. But you have to promise me you won't ever try to run, alright? Because without me to protect you, who knows what jerks will show up." Marc began stroking your hair.

"But what if I annoy you?" You sobbed.

"Annoying? Who are you kidding." Marc chuckled.

Marc gently pulled back, looking into your eyes "I swear, if anybody tries to mess with you, they have to go through me first."

You nodded.

"Good. Now you go back to your room, get some sleep and tomorrow I'm gonna get you some breakfast, sound good?" Marc smiled.

"Yes." You smiled back.

"There you go, you're smiling. Means I did something right." He grinned.

Marc gently guided you back to your room. Once there he tucked you in the bed and placed your phone on the nightstand beside you.

"Your phone. But promise me to not try anything with it, alright?" Marc ordered.

"I promise." You nodded.

"Perfect, and now get some sleep. You went through enough shit and I think you need some good rest. If you need anything, just call out for me or feel free to come into my room. As for tomorrow, be prepared to get spoiled by me, starting with some delicious breakfast." Marc smiled before leaning in and placing a soft kiss on top of your head.

[thornsnvultures]

mechanic!Eddie blurb based on this post and @urhoneycombwitch 's reply

700+ words, nsft 18+

"Eddie, you can't keep doing all this for me for free, these parts are expensive!"

The numbers on his expense sheet were way too big for your comfort. You weren't used to someone...investing this much into you without asking for something in return.

"Well I'm not sending you to some asshole who's gonna charge you double either." Eddie swiped the paper from your hands and slid it back into the binder on the office desk. "The shop's doing well and you need a safe car to drive in. I'm not letting you run around in a death trap."

"It's not a death trap!"

Eddie gave you a look that said you both knew otherwise.

"Okay, fine. But you've gotta let me do something to make it up to you. Take you to dinner at Carlucci's? They have those wings you like," you teased Eddie with a smile, watching his cheeks redden under the sweat and grime of the day.

"You don't need to wine and dine me, sweetheart," Eddie said as he circled the desk. He took you in his arms, pulling you close to stand between his spread legs as he leaned on the creaky old wood. "I'd do anything for you, you know that."

"But sometimes I want to do stuff for you, y'know? Can't just be you that does all the taking care of." You inched in closer, close enough to him now that you could smell his cologne under the grease. It made your stomach flip and your fingers itch to grab him. So you did. You let your fingers dive into his unzipped jumpsuit, tickling at his trim waist over his undershirt. So warm and inviting now that the cool ac in the office was blasting at your spine.

"You don't have to, that's not why I...I just like knowing you're safe," Eddie said as your hands traveled up to his shoulders pushing his jumpsuit off them and down his arms. His breathing picked up as he watched your fingers skim over his biceps, the veins in his forearms.

"I am safe. You make me feel safe, Eddie."

You kissed him then, quieting the gasp and groan that fell from his lips when your hand found the bulge at the junction of his thighs. His hips stuttered and he whined when you pulled him free.

"You don't have to-"

"I know," you said as you kissed Eddie's jaw, stroked the slick, heated flesh in your hand. "It's not about the car. It's about you. Only you."

You gripped him tighter, kissed him harder. It really wasn't about the car or paying him back or any of it. He needed to know how much you cared. How much you loved him for caring.

"Fuck, fuck, ah!" Eddie shouted against your mouth, his breath coming in hard hot pants that matched yours.

"That feel good? You look so pretty when you come, Eddie. Can I see it? Come for me, Eddie. Show me how pretty you are."

The wet workings of your hand echoed in the small room and you watched as Eddie's spread thighs shook and his balls tightened. You gave them a little tug, rolling them in your fingers and Eddie shouted. He grabbed the back of your head and kissed you hard as come splattered all over his stomach and dripped down your fingers. You worked him through it until he was shuddering for you to stop.

Eddie reached for the box of tissues behind him only to turn back and see you licking your fingers clean.

"Good?"

"I should be asking you that," you laughed. "But yes, so good."

Eddie hummed and took your fingers out of your mouth, replacing them with his tongue.

"Mm, you're right. I'm delicious."

You laughed and smacked his arm as he cleaned up and tucked himself away.

"Y'know, I think I changed my mind," Eddie said and turned you around so you were facing the desk. His hands slid around to the front of your jeans and you gasped when he popped the button open. Pushing your front down to the table, Eddie dropped to his knees, taking your jeans and underwear with him.

"I think I will let you treat me to dinner."