#his ass being on fire and his face being so determined while he presses the button is way too hilarious

[silenzahra]

This boy is on fire 🔥🎶

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

jealous hotchner because he can’t take his brother flirting with you so he shows you who you belong to 😘😘😘 (as in he wasn’t aware he liked you like that until he saw his brother with you and realised he didn’t want sean doing to you what he wants to do to you)

ps. you are an amazing writer and i love your work 🩷

༉‧₊˚. 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

— pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size!reader

— summary: things change thanks to the helpful youngest hotchner (or aaron's a little oblivious but then realizes he's jealous and you guys have sex in the bathroom at work).

— warnings: yet ANOTHER pwp, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, mentioned vaginal fingering, rough sex, doggy style, backshots, mirror sex, bathroom sex, dom!aaron hotchner, sub!reader, dom/sub dynamics, kind of mean dom!aaron, he's just being a little mean, but only 'cause he's jealous, the reader is enjoying every second of it though, a lot of dirty talk, teasing, ass smacking (like once), implied oral sex at the end (m rec), they just match each other's freak.

— wc: 1048

⋆ a/n: WOW EXCUSE ME WHILE I GO AND DISAPPEAR INTO A HOLE NOW!! this is just a whole mess if i'm going to be honest, but in like... a good way. i don't know if this aaron is ooc 'cause usually he's sweet in most of my fics, but this is just a whole different ball field!

masterlist | AO3

You really, really had no idea how you ended up here, but somehow you were pulled to the side by your boss and found yourself tugged into the gender-neutral bathrooms.

Your lips were rolled between your teeth and your eyes were squeezed shut tightly in order to try to keep the sounds of pleasure from spilling between your teeth. Your hands curled into the counter of the sink, head hanging low. 

Aaron’s large palms gripped at the fat of your hips, your pencil skirt shoved up and over your waist, your panties pulled halfway down your thighs before they sat on top of your knees that were squeezed together. It was hard to keep yourself still in your heels, but you were determined to be good for him, just like he had asked.

One moment you were sitting at your desk chatting away with Sean, the youngest Hotchner brother when Aaron had come storming over, mentioning something about, “Leaving his Agent,” Alone. The tone was unfamiliarly possessive, but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t felt his brooding from atop of the stairs near his office.

You could always feel him near you, it was like your body was pulled towards the earth that was Aaron Hotchner. 

You could see it in Aaron’s face as he all but dragged his brother away from you, jaw set tight and eyes narrowed, arms crossed over his suit covered chest. They bulged out in the material and you had to keep yourself from moaning at the sight of them.

Sure, you knew Sean was flirting with you, but it was rare that men would show any interest in you, so you can’t blame a girl for taking advantage of a situation in front of her, though it wasn’t the brother that she wanted.

Anywho, that’s neither here nor there. All you know is, is that one moment you’re walking down the hallway after visiting Penelope’s cave to be dragged away by Aaron into the bathrooms and pressed against the door.

The way he peered down at you was dark and hungry, and he definitely had a goal in mind as you coward. He held you there with his body, large, broad shoulders pinning you to the metal as you peered up at him through fluttering lashes.

Your body fucking burned for him. You knew you would do anything he would ask you too.

Of course this was disorderly conduct, that it was inappropriate, and quite frankly taboo, with the way that he was your boss and you were his subordinate; and oh, you guys were currently fucking in the company bathroom.

If you were going to be honest – and nasty – that only added fuel to the fire that was your dampening core.

You had begged in a small voice, shaky hands raising to set themselves on his shoulders, fingers curling in the material to… steady yourself? Pull him closer? You didn’t know, but he just watched you.

“Tell me what you want.” The question was sultry and demanding and a shiver ran its way up your body, wracking it in its haste. “You.” You would go to whisper, gaze falling on his lips before following back up to his eyes.

He had bent you over the counter, fingering you open quickly before tugging himself out of his slacks and entering you.

“Mmf… fuck!” You couldn’t help but cry as his tip kissed your g-spot over, and over and over again. The stretch burned so good, and the coil in your stomach was tightly wound, but not quite there yet. You needed that extra stimulation and you didn’t know if Aaron was willing to give it to you.

“Shush.” He puffed harshly, the warm air hitting the shell of your ear before he tugged on it with his teeth.

“Oh God.” You whimpered, leaning back into his bites. “I need it, Aaron please… Don’t be mean.” You whined. “You’ll take what I give you. That’s the least you could do after flirting with my brother right in front of me.”

The mention of his brother caused him to punch back into you harshly, sending you forward slightly. You scrambled to tighten your hold again, another cry lodging itself in your throat.

“Nasty girl.” He growled. “What made you think that was appropriate, huh?” Another emphasizing thrust. “I – I didn’t think…” You mewled. “‘Want you only. I promise.” You said with a pout, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah? Only me?”

“Mhm.”

He studies your face before leaning forward to join your lips together. Despite the awkward angle, he holds you steady, one of hands leaving your skin to run circles over your clit.

“Gah!” Your yelp is muffled by your lips, the man all but eating it. You don’t know which fountain of pleasure to chase, hips rocking forward and backwards constantly. 

“I… I…” Your words failed you, and your eyes squeezed shut again. “‘M gonna cum, Aaron baby, can I? Can I cum?” You beg.

He forced you to meet his gaze in the mirror, strands of his black hair sticking to his sweat slicked forehead. “Do you deserve it?” He asks darkly.

You think you could cry.

“Aaron…”

“Answer me. Do you think you deserve to cum?”

“You know I do.” You breathe petulantly, but he isn’t having it, the hand your hip slapping your ass instead. “Fuck.” You sigh. “You’re lucky we're running out of time, or I would be making you beg more, understood?”

“Yes, yes! Understood!”

“Good.”

The tight circles return and you keel over, teeth digging into your bottom.

“I wish I could hear you, my pretty girl.” He coos and you cry out as you cum. Your body trembles but he works you through it.

You’re breathing heavily by the end of it, your heavy eyes meeting his in the mirror.

“You think we're done?” He asks with dark amusement. “I haven’t cum yet.”

He maneuvers your body and turns you around, and by the pressure on your shoulders, he’s trying to push you down, and you understand what he wants. You follow his wordless instructions wordlessly, staring face to face with his dripping wet cock that’s stained with your creamy cum.

“You know what to do.” Aaron encourages, and you do.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

[theosbaby]

lost in the fire

theodore nott x fem!reader x pansy parkinson

masterlist

SUMMARY ! you said you might be into girls, you said you're going through a phase... well, maybe you can bring a friend.

WARNINGS ! reader is bisexual, sub!reader, dom!theo, dom!pansy, SMUT, threesome (fmf), tribbing, oral sex (male and fem receiving), p in v, praising, dirty talk, unprotected sex. this is the first time i write a threesome, hope it doesn't suck.

NOTES ! english isn't my first language, so you might find mistakes. first time posting here, hope you like it!

inspired by 'lost in the fire' by gesaffelstein, the weeknd

it was a friday night. slytherin party night. best fucking night of the month. the common room was crowded, everyone was there, including some students from other houses, and you were dancing with pansy in the improvised dance floor. both of you were sweaty and a bit drunk as you rubbed your bodies together to the rhythm of music, teasing and seducing each other.

meanwhile, a couple of hungry eyes watched you from afar; theo nott was sitting in one of the couches, glass of whisky in hand, as he analysed every movement you both made. theo had been trying to get in your pants for months now, but you kept rejecting him because you had been having some doubts about your sexuality since you started being friends with pansy and you realised that you liked her as more than friends. "i'm going through a phase" you had told him, but theo wasn't going to give up that easily; he was determined to fuck you.

seeing you dancing so provocatively with his best friend ignited something in him, so he finished the rest of his whisky in one gulp and stood up from the couch, deciding to approach you confidently.

"hey there, beautiful," he whispered in your ear, pressing his body to your back while you kept dancing with pansy.

you jumped slightly at theo's touch, surprised by his sudden appearance. you turned around slightly to face him, still holding onto pansy's waist as you said, "oh... hey, theo..." your voice was breathless, and you glanced over at pansy, who grinned back at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

theo and pansy were childhood friends, so she obviously knew about the guy's feelings for you. and she also knew that those feelings were reciprocated, even though you had never admitted it out loud. they both liked you and you liked them back, and she had no problem with sharing, so she pushed you against theo's body, sandwiching you between their bodies while she winked at her best friend.

you felt theo wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him, his free hand running through your hair. he leaned down to whisper in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

"you look incredible tonight," he said softly, before kissing your cheek gently.

he couldn't help but notice how well you and pansy complemented each other, the contrast between your personalities creating a perfect balance. and he wanted desperately to be part of that.

"dance with me," he asked you.

you hesitated, but nodded slowly, biting your lip nervously as you kept holding onto pansy's waist. you felt a thrill of excitement run through your body when you ground your ass against theo, moving sensually to the music. your eyes were fixed in pansy's green ones the whole time, feeling the heat emanating from their bodies as the three of you started dancing together.

the air became thick with desire in no time. pansy ran her fingers through your hair, pulling it back lightly to kiss your neck gently. at the same time. theo's hands roamed over your curves, feeling every contour of your body underneath your tight black dress. he could see the way your pupils dilated as you turned slightly to look at him, and he knew you were getting aroused. he pressed himself even closer to you, feeling the heat of your bodies melding into one.

"i wanna fuck you so bad," he whispered in your ear, pressing his hardening erection against your ass, "and so does pansy, you know?"

you blushed deeply at theo's words, feeling your heart rate increase as you tried to process what he was suggesting.

"you have us wrapped around your pretty little finger, love..." he kept talking, making your body flinch at his words.

"do i?" you inquired with faked innocence as you fluttered your eyelashes at him.

"oh you know damn well, baby."

you looked at pansy almost instantly when you heard her soft voice and you saw her smiling playfully back at you.

"so what are you gonna do about it?" you asked teasingly, looking between them with doe eyes full of curiosity and anticipation.

pansy reached out to stroke your cheek affectionately, before standing on her tiptoes to press a passionate kiss to your lips. you gasped in her mouth as you felt her lips against yours.

theo watched you both closely, his cock stirring in his pants as he imagined the three of you naked and tangled up between his bedsheets. he could hardly believe his luck; you were finally willing to have sex with him... adding pansy to the mix just made him harder.

"why don't we get out of here so we can make you feel good, love?" he suggested, his voice low and grave with need. "would you like that?" he asked you, placing some wet kisses on your neck as you kissed pansy.

you pulled away from her kiss reluctantly, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through your veins. you glanced at theo, biting your lip as you thought about what he was suggesting. you didn't want to make things awkward between them, since you knew they were such close friends, but at the same time you couldn't deny the thrill of being with both of them at the same time.

"yeah... i want that," you answered, your voice barely above a whisper as you stared deeply into his eyes.

"my dorm," theo replied simply, leading the way towards the boys dormitories without any further discussion.

when you arrived at his room, he unlocked the door quickly, pushing it open and gesturing for you and pansy to enter ahead of him. once inside, he closed the door behind him and locked it before turning back to the both of you, finding you already kissing again. "fucking hell," he muttered under his breath, watching closely as he started approaching you.

you felt theo's body pressing against your back as pansy devoured your mouth, slipping her playful tongue between your parted lips. his hands started roaming over your body and you moaned softly against pansy's lips, your own hands exploring her slim body while you pulled her closer to you.

after a few seconds you broke the kiss and turned to face theo, not wanting to make him feel left out; you grasped his neck and pulled him into a kiss too. he fucking moaned at the contact and the sound made you feel weak on the knees as you tangled your fingers in his soft wavy hair.

pansy started lifting your dress over your hips slowly, placing wet kisses on your shoulders and neck while her fingers caressed your thighs. when she exposed your black lace thong, she started toying with the hem of it teasingly, making your breath hitch.

theo pulled away from you reluctantly, gripping your dress to take it off completely. you stood almost fully naked and flushed in front of his hungry gaze, which wandered all over your bare form.

he grasped your jaw, lifting your head so that your eyes met his as he pressed against your body, muttering, "so fucking beautiful."

he captured your lips in another filthy kiss as pansy cupped your pussy over your soaked underwear, causing you to gasp in surprise.

"oh my god," you whined in between kisses.

you parted your legs to allow the brunette to touch you as she pleased.

"she's so wet," she said in a whisper that the both of you could perfectly hear and theo groaned.

"bed, now," he ordered, pulling away from you.

while you made your way towards his bed, you could hear the rustling of their clothing as it hit the floor. you sat on the edge of the mattress and pansy was the first one to approach you, already naked.

"You have a beautiful body, pans," you complimented her, opening your legs for her.

you saw her smiling as she positioned between your spread thighs, placing a little peck on your lips. you grabbed one of her breasts, toying with her perky little nipple until it hardened and she let out a soft moan, her eyes closing and head falling back.

pansy shifted slightly, intertwining your legs with hers so that your pussies were pressed against each other, and she ground against you, grasping at your hips to hold you close. you moaned softly, feeling a surge of pleasure shoot through your body as your cunts rubbed together through your underwear. immediately, your hips bucked against pansy's, wanting to create more friction between your clits.

"mmm... feels so good," you said breathlessly, getting wetter by the second.

your gaze drifted to theo, who was watching you both intently, his cock straining against his boxers as he listened to your breathy moans. you watched him approaching you, unable to hold back any longer. he kneeled on the bed next your body, taking his thick and long shaft out of his underwear; your eyes widened at his size.

"gonna be a good girl and suck me off, love?" he growled lowly, his voice rough with desire.

he brushed the tip of his cock against your lips, while pansy and you kept tribbing, and you nodded eagerly, opening your mouth and taking theo's cock in your mouth greedily.

you wrapped your hand around his base and squeezed him tightly, taking him as far as you could without gagging. then, you started bobbing your head up and down while you used your tongue to tease the sensitive head of his dick.

you looked up at him with a playful expression in your eyes and theo groaned at the sight, feeling his cock slide inside your warm, wet mouth. he ran his hand through your hair, pulling at it slightly to guide your movements.

"that's it, love," he whispered hoarsely, "such a good girl."

pansy moaned loudly at the sight, grasping hard at your thigh, and also praised you, "you look so pretty sucking theo's cock, baby."

theo glanced over at pansy, seeing her grinding slowly against your pussy, your panties damp with your combined juices. he couldn't help but think how incredibly erotic the scene was.

you hummed around theo's shaft, feeling a tingling in your core as pansy pulled your panties to the side and kept grinding against your bare pussy, her hand moving to caress your swollen clit.

"mmm... i want to see you come, baby," she whispered seductively, "i want to watch you cum for us."

theo groaned louder, feeling his own release approaching as he took in the sight of your soaked cunt pulsing with need; he was so close to cumming, but he managed to hold back.

your cheeks hollowed as you continued to suck theo's dick, despite your need to pull back and moan freely, feeling your climax building up inside of you. you kept sucking him until your breathing became so uneven that you felt like couldn't breathe with his dick on your mouth and you released it with a loud pop.

"so close... i'm gonna cum" you warned, your walls contracting around nothing.

theo leaned in to take one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking at it and making you moan. you looked up at pansy with a pleading expression in you eyes and she smiled, rubbing her thumb harder against your clit until your were coming.

"that's it, let it out, love," theo whispered with his mouth pressed to your breast, his fingers caressing the other one.

you came hard, letting out a loud drawn-out moan while you gasped for air, feeling your pussy spasm violently and your whole body trembling from pleasure. pansy came right after you with a loud cry, her back arching as you both tried to keep the movements of your hips to ride out your orgasms, finally, she collapsed onto your chest, her breathing ragged and her heart racing.

theo watched closely, his cock throbbing at the sight of two beautiful women writhing in pleasure beside him. he leaned in to press a kiss on your lips, you returned it lazily as you recovered from the aftershocks of your climax.

"gonna fuck you now," theo muttered between kisses, "you want that, pretty girl?"

"yeah." you nodded eagerly.

you reached for pansy's face, cupping her cheek to pull her into the kiss too, the feeling of both of their tongues and lips brushing against yours made you whimper. you couldn't help but smile, pulling back to watch them kissing while you caressed their faces; the sight only made you wetter.

it was theo who broke the contact after a few seconds, pupils dilated while he grabbed your hips and placed you higher on the bed, your head falling against the pillow. you spread your legs wider instinctively to make room for him as he positioned between them. his hands moved up your thighs, slowly caressing your skin, until he reached your thong and started pulling it down; you lifted your hips and closed your legs momentarily to allow him to take it off.

"such a pretty little pussy," he said, sliding the head of his cock between your slick folds.

you whimpered softly at the action and bit your lower lip, your hips buckled.

"you gonna eat pansy's cunt while i fuck you, yeah?" he commanded in a tender voice, still rubbing his tip against your puffy clit.

you couldn't form any coherent sentence, so you limited yourself to nod in agreement. then pansy approached you, placing a brief kiss on your lips before straddling your face. you grasped at her thighs, lowering her until she was sitting on your mouth and you sucked her pussy greedily, making her moan as your tongue lapped at her clit. you felt theo slipping one finger inside of you slowly and you hummed against pansy.

"so tight and wet for me, huh." his words made you tighter around his digit. "gonna fuck you so good, sweetheart."

he inserted another finger next to the first one to stretch you out, curling them to rub your g-spot. his actions had you moaning repeatedly as you practically made out with pansy's pussy.

"please," you begged, growing inpatient; you could feel your juices dripping onto his bedding.

the sound of your voice was muted by pansy's flesh, but he understood you perfectly and decided to comply. you felt him slowly pushing his cock inside your tight pussy, stretching you out until he was fully seated in your wetness; you heard him moaning loudly.

"god, your pussy is fucking heaven..." he groaned.

you whimpered against pansy's flesh and grasped hard at her thighs, licking a long stripe from her entrance down to her clit, capturing it between your lips to suck on it. she kept moaning and squirming and you knew she was close.

"doing such a good job eating pansy out, love," he muttered as he started thrusting into you, setting a slow pace at first. "gonna make her cum on your pretty face?"

you hummed in delight as you felt his cock hitting all the right spots, your hips bucking to try and match his rhythm.

"fuck yes!" you heard pansy moan while she ground her hips faster against your tongue, her legs started shaking underneath your touch.

you couldn't see anything since her body was blocking your view, but you could hear the sound of wet kisses and theo's skin slapping against yours as he quickened the rhythm.

pansy came with a series of moans while she rode your face, body trembling and head falling back. then, she collapsed onto the bed, panting heavily; her cheeks were flushed.

you looked up at theo, lips swollen and glistening with pansy's juices as you took in the sight that was thedore nott towering over your body while he fucked you. you wrapped your legs around his hips and he leaned in to press a passionate kiss to your lips, tangling his fingers in your hair.

"i've wanted this for so long..." he groaned in your mouth, breaking the kiss.

he left a trail of wet kisses down your jaw and towards your neck. your bodies were so close together that his pelvis rubbed your clit with each thrust, sending shivers down your spine. you grasped at his hair strands, forcing him back up to keep kissing him.

"fuck," you whimpered between kisses, "wish i've let you fuck me sooner."

he chuckled at your admission. "yeah?" he bit your lip teasingly, looking into your eyes with a playful gleam in his. "well, guess we'll have to make up for the lost time."

you nodded eagerly, moaning loudly when you felt pansy's hand slipping between your bodies to start toying with your swollen clit; for a moment, you had forgotten she was there too.

your orgasm started building up due to combination of the stimulation on your clit and his dick rubbing your g-spot.

"i'm gonna cum," you told him, your pussy clamping around him like a vice.

"go ahead, love," he encouraged you, "cum all over my cock."

he watched closely as your pussy engulfed his dick and the sight almost sent him over the edge, but he managed to hold back until you were coming around his cock with a loud cry, muscles tightening and legs shaking. the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing him was all it took for him to spill inside you, filling you with his cum as he let out the prettiest whimpers.

"fuck, theo." you panted out, falling limp onto the mattress.

he placed a series of kisses on your forehead and temple as you both came down from your highs.

"yeah, i know." he chuckled while he pulled out, laying down next to you.

the three of you laid there in silence for a few minutes, completely spent and satisfied, as you cuddled.

"hottest thing i've ever done," you whispered, your gaze wandering between them both, "we should make this a habit."

you heard them laughing affectionately at your comment... they couldn't help but agree with you, though.

[harleys1nhawaii]

USING YOU

pairing: dabi / todoroki touya x f!reader

warnings: smut, p in v, 18+ content, degration, humiliation, dabi being an asshole as usual, mocking, petnames etc. not proofread so yeah

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY BEAUTIFUL BABYGIRL LIGHT OF MY LIFE FIRE OF MY LOINS MY ONE AND ONLY SOURCE OF LIGHT IN THIS HELLISH LIFE I LOVE YOU MORE THAN ANYTHING💙💙💗🎀 lol jokes aside i cant seem to finish none of the fucking drafts i have so tryna save my ass my posting smut. pray for me so i can be productive every once in a while<3

dabi watches you ride him with his hands lazily tucked under his head, his lips curled into a infuriating cocksure grin. he finds it utterly amusing that you — in your cute little head believe that you can get off without his help.

he can feel the way your nails dig in his burnt flesh deeper than necessary, and the way your cunt squeezes in desperation. if he waits just a little more, he’s sure that those tears — you struggle so hard to fight back — will eventually start pouring down.

“damn, look at you going.”

your glare could cut steel, but it only makes him chuckle. he’s been at this for a while, mocking encouraging you too cheekily for your liking. its no. he tilts his head, watching you with those icy blue eyes, half-lidded and lazy, as if this is nothing more than a casual afternoon for him.

"atta girl," he drawls, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "almost looks like you know what you're doing up there."

his mocking encouragement makes your blood boil. you dig your nails into his chest hard enough to leave crescent-shaped marks, but the bastard doesn't even flinch. if anything, his cock twitches inside you, and the smug look on his face somehow grows even more insufferable.

"you think this is funny?" you bite out, your voice sharp but trembling, betraying how close you are to breaking.

"oh, sweetheart, i think it's hilarious," he drawls, his tone teasing. "you’re working so hard, too. almost makes me feel bad."

almost.

dabi could be so much crueler. brutal, even. you both know for a damn fact that all it would take to break you further are those scarred, calloused hands — gripping your waist, pressing you down, and holding you still.

you know a man like him — a nasty dog with a sick, sick mind who lives the life for the thrill of it would not hesitate to amplify your torment. it ain’t something he didn’t do before, not in the slightest. and that ridiculous arrogance you were putting on, like you could keep up the facade, only made him more eager to tear it down.

“mhh—ah, fuck!” but then again, you sure were a sight to see. sweat glistening on your delicate, plushy skin. tits bouncing with every jump. your face scrunched into the purest mix of determination and desperation. brows furrowed, eyes squinting with need, lips parting to draw in sharp, ragged breaths.

you’re utterly adorable. and dabi’s stained heart harbors just enough innocence to show mercy. plus the way your tight, spasming walls clutch at his aching cock feels just right to stop it.

"need a hand there, doll?" his smirk deepens, his sharp teeth flashing like a predator toying with its prey.

“nah, you've got this, right? you’re a big girl. don’t let me stop you."

your thighs burn, muscles trembling with the effort, and you can feel the humiliating prick of tears at the corners of your eyes. his cock fits perfectly, the stretch overwhelming but delicious, and yet no matter how much you grind down on him, you're still not there.

but dabi? oh, dabi is patient. he’s the kind of man who takes pleasure in your defiance, only because it makes breaking you so much sweeter. he can see the cracks forming-how your breaths come quicker, how your movements grow more erratic, and how your nails dig into his scarred chest out of sheer frustration.

his tip kisses your cervix with each jump, his girth hitting all the right places, but it's not enough — not without his hands on you, guiding you, wrecking you like only he can.

it’s maddening. his nonchalance, the arrogance that radiates off him like it's his rightful crown. he lays there, sprawled out like he's the king of the damn world, watching you struggle for something only he can give.

and he has every right to be this way. you’ve dug your own grave by bitching that you didn’t need his help to cum, and now you were supposed to lie in it.

you lift yourself until only his tip remains inside before dropping back down, over and over. the motion repeats to the point where your cervix aches, and your walls grow numb from the strain. the slick mess coating both your thighs shines bright like a slap on your face. hours of jumping on his dick — yet still, no one of you has came.

"you done yet?" his tone is syrupy sweet, dripping with sarcasm. "or should i grab a book to pass the time?"

another roll of your hips, hard enough to probably break his dick, and he groans — not loud, but enough to let you know you're affecting him despite his infuriating composure. you think that maybe after this, he’ll decide to shut the fuck up.

though his grin shifts, becoming something darker, more predatory. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and you know—you just know—he's about to make it worse.

“careful," he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave. "don’t start something you can't finish."

something in his gaze tells you to give up this torture already, and the effort you put into hiding the shiver that runs down your spine fuels his ego more than any words ever could.

“you think you can keep this up?” he raises his brows. the condescending gleam in his azure eyes is enough to shatter whatever remaining confidence is left in you to pretend.

“wanna cum so badly, but all you’re doing is making a mess of yourself on my dick, babe. don’t get mad at me just because you can't finish the job."

you bite back a frustrated whimper, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer.

“c’mon, doll.” he says just about a whisper. blue orbs shining with authority, far too eager to be considered sane. "what’s it gonna take? you gonna beg me? cry a little, maybe?"

"fuck you," you spit, your voice trembling as you no longer can keep your composure. the tears he predicted begin to well up in your eyes.

"oh, you are, babe." he thrusts up suddenly, and the unexpected movement rips a gasp from your lips. his hands finally leave their lazy position, gripping your hips tight enough to bruise as he slams into you once, twice, stealing your breath. "but you're just not doing it right."

your nails dig into his chest, your pride screaming at you to push him away, but your body betrays you, grinding down harder as his hips meet yours again. the bastard chuckles darkly.

"bet you wish you never started this, huh?" he teases, his voice dripping with malice. "can’t even finish, can't keep up. just a fucking mess."

your head tilts back, a moan slipping from your lips as the tension in your core coils tighter, closer to snapping with every thrust. you try to speak, to retort, but the words get caught in your throat as he fucks into you relentlessly, too deep, too fast, and it's all too much, too overwhelming, too fucking good.

the tears fall freely now, hot against your cheeks, and you bite down on your lip to stifle the sob that threatens to spill from your throat. you can’t fight them anymore—not when he’s balls deep inside your aching cunt, not when the coil in your abdomen boils with need.

“go on babe, beg me.” he chuckles maniacally as he thrusts into you so hard, you’d think it teared past your cervix if you weren’t burning with the need to cum. "i know you want to. i’ll even let you soak me if you ask real nice."

you glare down at him, teeth clenched, but the way his thumb brushes over your bottom lip makes you falter. his grin widens as he sees the defiance in your eyes waver, your body trembling with need.

"say it," he whispers, his voice low and taunting. "and maybe i’ll show you some mercy."

you hate him. you hate him — but the way his fingers dig into your waist and the heat in his gaze make it impossible to resist.

and you know, you just know that he can keep you on his dick for another 2 hours, make you sob and stain the whole bed until you beg him for that very mercy he’s offering you now.

"…please," you choke out, your voice barely above a whisper. it’s so pathetic that your eyes shut close at the sound of it.

for a moment he doesn't say a word, but the dark gleam in his eyes speaks volumes, and that sick, twisted satisfaction blooms on his face.

"good girl," he murmurs, the words dripping with mockery, but there's a faint edge of something else there too — something you don’t wanna inspect. "i knew you'd crack."

he doesn't give you a second to breathe. his hands grip your hips, guiding you to take the pace he wants, setting a brutal rhythm that leaves you no choice but to follow. the way he looks at you, like you're nothing more than a toy for him to play with is sick, and definitely isn’t something that should make your aching pussy clench around him.

“gonna pull some shit like that on me again?” he groans lowly. and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was plotting on your death by the dangerous look he’s giving you.

you shake your head, tears blurring your vision. you know that he thrives on the fright he gives you when his grip on you tightens. the way his cock twitches inside as he watches you sob brokenly.

"see? that’s all you had to do," he coos, his grip forcing you to keep pace with his punishing rhythm. "next time, maybe you'll remember who's in charge, yeah?"

he keeps slamming you down onto him, drawing strangled moans and broken cries from your throat. hips snapping up to meet yours with a punishing rhythm that has your vision blurring. his eyes drink in the sight of you losing every bit of control you had, his smirk softening into something wickedly affectionate.

"come on, baby," he urges, his voice rough and commanding. "give it to me. let me feel you."

and just like that, you shatter—your body convulsing around him, trembling and gasping his name like a prayer with juices gushing all over his dick. he groans at the feeling of you clenching around him, his own release following shortly after as he buries himself as deep as he can go, his grip on you tightening.

when you collapse against his chest, panting and spent, he tilts your chin up with a burnt finger, forcing your wet and lidded eyes meet his gaze.

"next time, don't try to play games you can't win," he murmurs, his voice low and smug, before leaning up to capture your lips in a bruising kiss, sealing his victory.

[todomochi-uwu]

Who. (2/?) J. Y & S. M

Pairing: Poly! Jeong Yunho x reader x Song Mingi

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis: You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you.

Other chapters: Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

Yunho kept checking the file in his hands, reading over and over the same words not being able to register anything, his head was all over the place, between the tiredness, the stress and his broken heart, concentrating was proving to be impossible.

“Careful, Jeong. If you think any harder your head might catch on fire.” Said Lee Minho entering the doctor’s launch with an empty coffee mug.

“Piss off, Minho.” He didn't turn his eyes from the paper, determined to make it work no matter how much it took.

Minho’s eyes focused on the taller man in front of him, his skin was paler than normal, a slight blue tint covered it; his eyes were sunk in their sockets, dark purple bags underneath them; lips dry and crusty; he looked thinner, he looked sick. Yunho and Minho weren’t by any means close, they had spent the entire med school fighting for the top spot in their class; Jeong Yunho had proved to be a real pain in the ass, managing to balance school, work, friends and a fucking three-way relationship while Lee Minho could barely sleep and see his, now, husband.

“Not that I care, Jeong but, are you okay?” Said Minho, leaning against the countertop and waiting for the coffee to be done.

Yunho tossed the folder on the table, completely done. He pressed his fingers against his eyelids, trying to calm the blinding headache he had been carrying around his entire shift. “I don’t think it’s any of your business, Lee.”

The cat-eyed doctor shrugged, not wanting to dig any further, he tried. He took his mug and made a beeline straight to the door, but he couldn’t help but look back at his school rival, and what he saw shocked him a bit. His shoulders were slumped, and shaking, his face in between his hands, and small but heavy sobs left his mouth. A suffering Yunho was something he had never expected to see, and while he thought it would bring him joy, it just made him feel weird. He would have to ask Jisung what was going on, he was friends with Mingi, and he would have to know.

______________________________________________________________

Mingi was not doing any better at work. He fell asleep on his desk, barely paid attention at meetings, and was hostile to his co-workers and possible clients. Jongho was done with attitude, he had been patient, as much as he could, and he tried to understand the situation, but it was becoming too much.

“Mingi, I am begging you, please go home, you cannot continue like this. Get some sleep, eat and come back when you are better.” Jongho said as softly as possible, not wanting to trigger another fight with the dirty blonde lawyer in front of him.

“Jongho, I’m okay. I would rather just be working, there’s nothing to do at home anyways.”

“Mingi…” He was interrupted.

“Jongho, I won't repeat myself, leave me alone.” He turned his chair away from the younger lawyer.

That was it. He was done.

Jongho slammed his hand against the desk, startling Mingi, “Listen to me, Mingi, I get that you are sad, okay? I get it. But you cannot come here and act like a fucking dick and expect everyone to be okay with it. We tried to be nice and give you a couple of weeks to recover, but so far, we have lost two important clients because of your attitude and you pissed off three more. I’m sorry she left, but I highly doubt she would come back if she saw the mess you’ve become. Yelling at people, turning work in late, getting drunk, fighting with Yunho, do you think she wants that? Because I highly doubt it.” He jabbed his finger into Mingi’s chest. “Get. Your. Shit. Together.” And with that he left the office, slamming the door on his way out.

Mingi sighed, taking off his tie. He closed his eyes trying to calm down, but it seemed impossible. Anxiety had been tormenting him for almost a month now, and it didn’t seem like it would stop any time soon. He misses you. A lot. He just didn’t know how to function without that missing piece. Nothing was working right now, his head was always a mess, always going back to that night, trying to remember every moment he neglected you; he was trying to balance out his pain and stress to not mess up his relationship with Yunho as well; while also trying to balance out work as to not get fired, or at least not to piss off Jongho even more, but nothing is working. He misses you, and without you, nothing in him works.

______________________________________________________________

Chan was in the kitchen bar working; his heavy and expensive headphones sat on the top of his head while he was nodding along to the rhythm of his last track. He kept replaying it to try and figure out what was missing, what he could change or fix, but he just couldn’t concentrate. Flashbacks kept showing up in his head, replaying again and again, memories of his college days, memories of the time he fell in love with his now roommate and failed to do something about it.

It was the winter semester; the campus was covered in snow and everyone found refuge inside the library. Chan was planning to go there and work on a paper that was due that same night, but once he saw the amount of people inside the building, he decided he wouldn’t be able to work there. And just as he was about to leave, he saw Hongjoong sitting on a couch in the corner, next to him was something that made the producer’s mouth dry. A woman so beautiful his eyes couldn’t believe what they were seeing, his brain couldn’t comprehend what was happening, his feet moved on their own in that direction, he needed to talk to her, to know her name, to introduce himself. His friend got up as soon as he saw him, greeting him and introducing her. Y/n. That was her name, a name Chan would never be able to forget.

A friendship was established that day. You would start by hanging out with Hongjoong, going out to eat, watch a movie or to a party; but soon it became just the two of you. Hanging out at each other’s dorms, he showed you some of his music, and you showed him some of her stories; at first, he would walk you back to her room every night, but after some time you would stay over, “it’s easier” you said. One fateful night, Christopher finally made a move, giving you a quick peck on the lips while listening to your favourite artist’s latest album, the largest seconds of his life were right after, waiting for your reaction; you ended up fucking on top of his desk, pushing all his books, and cd’s to the floor.

That was the way the next months were spent, hanging out and finding any and every excuse to have sex, but never giving a title to what you were. Chan just assumed you weren’t ready for that kind of commitment, convincing himself he was fine with what you had, not admitting he was just too much of a coward to ask if you felt the same as him.

“I just don’t understand him, Jisung. One day he acts as if we were a couple, and the next he calls me his best friend. Friends don’t treat each other the way we do, friends don’t do what we do.”

“Maybe he isn’t ready for that kind of commitment, he would just rather stay as friends with benefits.” Jisung pat her on the back, trying to comfort her.

“But I don’t want to be just friends with benefits.” You pouted her lips.

“Hey, come on, don’t be sad. I'll tell you what, why don’t you come with me to Wooyoung’s party this Friday? You’ll have fun and forget, at least for a bit, about Chan.”

Christopher’s first mistake was introducing you to Jisung. The second one was allowing you to befriend him. And his last, but most fatal one was not going to that party. Why? Because Yunho and Mingi were there.

“Y/n, this my friend Mingi. Mingi, this is Y/n.” And just like that, it was over before it could even begin. That same night Mingi had introduced you to Yunho, and they both were heads over heels for you, they asked you to hang out the very next day and while at first you were confused as to how it would work, they won you over, pushing completely out the idea of Chan off your head.

He remembered the first time you talked about them, he thought you had just made out with one of them at the party, and while he wasn’t exactly happy about it, he could let it slide, no idea of what was about to come. Texts left unanswered; calls that went to voicemail; and long nights waiting for you to show up, but at some point, it became clear, that you were not just sleeping around with them, you were in love. That very same night he went out and got drunk out of his mind, only being able to get back home after Changbin and Minho found him trashed on a bench in front of their building. He blamed himself, if he hadn’t been so scared, if he had just tried, you would be his, and he promised himself that if that door ever opened again, he would be there. But as time went on, it became more apparent that would never happen… until now.

He kept repeating over and over to himself that you weren’t ready, that you still love them and that you were still mourning that relationship, but he couldn’t help himself, he wanted you.

The last month he had been in some kind of hell in heaven. When you first had shown up, he was pissed off beyond comprehension, how could they let this happen? How could they treat you like that? He had spent every second of his existence since he met you, loving and worshipping the ground you walk on and they had let you slip away? Unbelievable. But he couldn’t help but see the perks of all of this. He was the one to console you, to build you back up, and through the course of the weeks, you were better.

He would come back home to you cooking, greeting him the second he went in; you telling him about your day or a new show you were watching; you showed him your work and asked his opinion. Everything went back to how it was; it was even better. This is what he had been missing out all this time?

“Good morning, Channie.”

“Welcome back, Chan. I made some spaghetti; I hope you like it.”

“Hey, Chan. How was work?”

Oh, blissful domesticity. But everything was too good to be true. They would show up in the most subtle ways, in the middle of a conversation, in the notifications of your phone, even in the clothes you wore, they still smell like them; your ex-boyfriends were everywhere in his apartment, tormenting him. And, of course, he wasn’t blind, he could see it, your face still showed how heartbroken you were, and he could also hear it at night, small sobs escaped your mouth, whispering their names again and again.

Yunho…

Mingi…

Never his name.

______________________________________________________________

Jisung had just arrived home, his hands full of grocery bags balancing them while trying to open the door, and just as he was about to spill everything on the ground, a soft hand came to his rescue.

“Jesus, Sungie be careful.” The person behind him giggled.

“Y/n?” His eyebrows furrowed, confused, but he still leaned in and hugged you. “What are you doing here? How did you get in the building?”

“Oh, I live here now.”

“Mingi gave up his rent control apartment? Is he crazy?”

“Um… not exactly.” You scratched the back of your head.

“Okay, come inside and tell me what’s going on.”

…

“And that’s how I ended up living with Chan.” You took a small sip of the hot chocolate Jisung had prepared.

“Have you talked to them?”

You shook your head.

Jisung’s arms were folded against his chest, his eyes looking directly at yours, not sure what to say, “So it’s over between you and them?”

“I don’t know, Hannie. I love them, so much it hurts, but I don't think they feel the same way, they act as if I'm not even there, as if I'm not important to them.” You lay down on the kitchen table, controlling your breathing so you won't start crying.

“Well, that’s just not true.” He put his hand on top of your head, petting you, “Mingi can be an idiot sometimes and the same goes for Yunho, but they love you, baby. From the very first moment they met you, they have loved you, maybe they just lost their tracks for a moment, but they will come back to you.” He kissed you on the forehead, “and if for some reason they don’t, I will be there to help you pick up the pieces.”

______________________________________________________________

Minho arrived late at night, completely done with work and with stubborn patients who thought they knew more than him because they read an article on the internet. Jisung ran to the front door as soon as he heard the jiggling of the keys, ready to receive his grumpy husband. He accompanied him into the kitchen, where he served him a hot plate of his favourite food and told him about this day.

“I found the chips you like on sale so I bought a couple, I also bought the ingredients I was missing for that ramen you want to try, oh and I tried that juice I’ve been craving, but it wasn’t that good.” Minho couldn’t keep up with the number of things that came out of his husband’s mouth, but he was happy to listen. “Oh, oh my god I almost forgot, guess who I ran into?”

“Who?” He said while shoving a spoonful of soup into his mouth.

“Y/n, she broke up with Mingi and Yunho, and she’s staying with Chan.”

Minho choked, coughing aggressively, not believing the words that came out of Jisung’s mouth. Everything made sense now, that’s why the puppy-like doctor had been so miserable the last couple of weeks. And why Chan had been avoiding him lately. He got up and headed towards the door, “Give me a second, love I’ll be right back.”

He made his way down the hall, he was in no mood to do this, but it had to be done. He had witnessed first-hand how completely devastated had Chan been after you had broken his heart (not that he thinks you did it on purpose), how hard it was to get him to shower, to go to work, how long it took him to go back to normal, and he feared it would happen again. He pounded on the door, not caring if the neighbours next door complained. The door opened harshly, a sleep-deprived Christopher on the door side, looking at him as if he had grown to heads.

“Min, it’s two in the morning, what the hell are you doing here?”

The doctor grabbed him by the arm and shoved him into the wall next to the door, “You are going to explain to me exactly what you think you are doing.”

“I'm not doing anything. She’s my friend, I want to help her move…”

He interrupted, “What? Move on? Were you planning to be her saviour so she would fall in love with you? Bang Chan, she’s been engaged to them for almost a year now, they are just going through a rough patch…”

“They broke up.”

“They will get back together, it's more than obvious, they are in love.” He whispered yelling, he was worried, did Chan think he had a chance?

“They neglected her, Minho they took her for granted, I would…”

“Chan, listen to me, she’s not in love with you, whatever you two had it's over, it's been over for years, for Christ's sake.” He shook his shoulders, trying to get some sense into him.

“I know what I'm doing.”

“You clearly, don’t.” He pushed his friend back into his apartment and went back to his. His entire body ached, but anxiety filled his head, not letting him rest.

______________________________________________________________

“So, she finally dumped your ass, good for her honestly,” Minho said as he entered Yunho’s office. The latter one looked up at him, the look in his eyes completely dead. “Geez, you look like shit.”

“What do you want, Minho? I'm busy, I don’t have time for your bullshit.”

“I know where she is.”

“What?” Yunho looked at him with wide-open eyes. “Don’t you fucking dare lie to me about this.” He got up and grabbed Lee by the collar and shook him, “How the fuck do you know that?”

“Because I saw her.” Little white lie, but he technically did know where she was. He pushed him back, “I don’t like you, Yunho, at all. But I know what it's like to be in your shoes, so I’ll make you a deal, you get your shit together and I might just tell you where she is.”

______________________________________________________________

Yunho’s hands kept trembling, he had barely been able to drive home without crashing. He wanted to scream, to cry, to tell Mingi what Minho had told him, all at the same time, but he also thought, what would he say? How could he apologize? Would she take them back? He went into the house, Mingi was lying on the couch, a book in his hands and glasses sitting on his face, his eyebags and skin tone resembling his boyfriend’s, he turned to look at him, noticing how fidgety and dishevelled he looked.

“Are you okay? Did something happen at work?” He got up and approached Yunho, he grabbed his face in his hands and caressed his cheeks.

“Um…” he bit off some of the skin in his lip, not knowing how to deliver the news, his head couldn’t put the words together, not even able to process them. “Minho told me something today.”

“Ugh, that asshole. I don’t know how Jisung married that guy, he's such a nice guy and Minho is so…”

Yunho interrupted him, not able to hold it in any longer, “Minho says he knows where Y/n is staying.”

Mingi felt how the air left his body, all thoughts abandoning his mind in the same way, tears were quick to rush to his eyes, “What?”

“Yeah, he saw her and knows where she’s been staying.” He paused to order his next words, “And he said he will tell me if we manage to get our shit together.”

Mingi took him into his arms and squeezed him till he was out of breath, not being able to contain his happiness. Together they cried and smiled while the thought of everything going back to normal filled them, that was until something crossed their minds at the same time, would you even want them back?

______________________________________________________________

Tag list:

@tunaasan @scuzmunkie

[radiant-reid]

omg cate the dad bod!spencer post😭 could u please write smth about that but like, not him being insecure about it because i see that all the time! but him using his new weight and filled out form to pin his gf/wife on the bed, face down and just breed her <3

i was a couple mojitos deep when i wrote this

Spencer Reid is so hot.

It's the only thing you're thinking about while he's undressing in the walk-in wardrobe without the door closed, leaving so many beautiful inches of his body to your sight.

The heat inside you is definitely his fault.

"Did you see Belle's art this morning?" He asks as he walks through the door, looking absolutely delectable, only dressed in pants that hang low around his hips.

"Mhm." You mumble, pretending to be reading your book.

Spencer catches you ogling him. It would be practically impossible not to, especially for a profiler who has lived with you for years. "What's your pretty little brain thinking about?" He walks closer to the bed slowly.

"You." It's the honest truth that he knows, and there's not much else to say.

His gloating grin grows as he walks across the room to the foot of the bed, climbing on and crawling up the bed. It gives you the perfect view of his body, where his chest is softer now, his stomach protrudes more, and he's filled out. It's so attractive. Your legs fall open under the covers, letting him stop in between them.

"Yeah? What do you want with me, baby?" He asks.

"Spencer, don't." You hit him on the shoulder, predictably shying away from telling him what you want. "You know what I want."

"Tell me." He growls.

You glide your palm down his chest, stopping at the waistband of his pajama pants. "Another baby." You say before you can help it, which is not the answer either of you expected.

He doesn't flinch at the confession, his eyes darkening. He leans in to meet your lips for a quick kiss. "You're serious?"

"Very serious." You assure him. "We can handle two, right?"

Spencer doesn't miss a beat in nodding. "Yes." He answers. "No more discussion needed."

He works quickly once you nod, grabbing your hips and flipping you over. You pull the covers off, lifting your ass off the bed and pressing your hips against his, where you can feel the evidence of how much he wants you.

"Needy, baby." He coos, hands gliding up under your tank. His wide palms press into your sides while his gorgeous long fingers spread across your stomach.

“Could say the same thing about you.” You bite back, reaching behind yourself and making contact with the hard length in his pants. “Did I do this?”

He groans as you touch him, easily being distracted from getting you undressed. “You’re the only person in the world that can do this.” He tells you lowly.

“Prove it, Spence.” You request, challenging him. “Put a baby in me.”

It acts like an accelerant to the fire inside him and in one swift move, your sleeping shorts are being tugged down you legs, flung across the room.

“First time last time, you know?” He reminds you, still feeling cocky about it. “Think I can do it again? Because I know I can.”

You scoff, determined to tease him to ensure you get the best sex possible. “You’ve got no way of knowing if it was the first time.”

It’s true that you don’t technically know since back then you were having sex so much your daughter could have been convinced on a number of occasions, but you’re both confident it was the first time.

Where you’re expecting words from him, you get actions first. His weight pins you to the bed as his hips rest on top of yours, and it makes you let out a moan without him even touching you. “Wanna try that again?” He offers.

You shake your head into the pillows. “Stop teasing.” You scold when he slots his thigh between your thighs, softly brushing your dripping core with his pant leg.

“You know I’ll always give you what you want.” He promises. He draws his thumb through your wet folds, making you moan as he hums in satisfaction. “Warm up round?” He offers.

Adamantly, you shake your head. “For round two. I need you inside me now.”

He does what you ask, lining himself up and gliding into you in one swift motion. “Fuck.” He groans instantly. You can’t see him put you know that he’s throwing his head back in pleasure.

“Feels so good.” You agree.

It’s not just his cock hitting inside you at the perfect angle. It’s how good he feels on top of you, how his gorgeous body molds so perfectly onto yours.

You muffle your loud moans in the pillow, absolutely not wanting to get caught and have to stop the intense pleasure all over your body.

“God, I want to put a baby in you so badly.” He groans, on hand sneaking back under your tank to touch your nipples.

“Do it.” You plead, rolling your hips against his when he thrusts fully inside you.

He dips his head so his breath is right against your neck before starting to kiss your skin. He speeds up, pounding his hips against yours each time.

“Spencer!” You moan out his name followed by a trail of expletives.

“I know, baby. I know.” He coos softly against your ear. “Touch yourself.” He prompts and you struggle slightly under his weight to draw your fingers to your clit. “Help me make you cum.”

You’re over the edge in seconds, pleasure waves pulsing through you and all your senses focusing on how good it feels.

“Fill me up, Spence.” You beg, tangling your hand in his hair.

He pants against your neck as he stills, releasing cum deep inside of you while he moans out your name.

He falls forward onto you, slightly sweaty chest sticking to you, as you both come down from your highs together. His weight grounds you and it’s warm like being hugged by him.

“That was so good.” You declare, catching your breath.

He nods in agreement. “Love any chance I get to fill you up.” He kisses your shoulder. “And make more perfect babies with you.”

“I just love you.”

[night-night-stories-before-bed]

Partners in crime

Warning ⚠️; Blood, murder, mention of child murder.

Pairing; Ghostface/Gn!Reader

Summary; People never learn from the past and you use it to your advantage. Because what’s better than one killer? Two.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The police station was eerily quiet as you sat on a plastic chair facing the detective behind his desk. The man had crossed his hands under his chin and closed his eyes, his face showing how heavy the burden of his investigation was. The man grinded his teeth before opening his eyes to stare at you.

Legs crossed and back pressed against your chair, you weren't impressed by the situation. You felt no remorse nor fear, knowing how safe you actually were. They had no proof, not enough evidence to lock you up in a cell. Not after the new murder. Not after Ghostface had slaughtered two more people while you were being interrogated and manhandled by the man in front of you.

- “I think I deserve an apology, detective.” You said, tilting your head to the side. “Probably even more than that after you humiliated me in front of everyone and ruined my fucking life.”

- “Listen here, everything pointed to you. I don't have to give you an apology or anything just because I was doing my job.” The detective snapped, almost throwing himself back against his own chair as he raised his head, his ego bruised by what you said. “Besides, now everyone knows you are innocent and were just some kind of scapegoat.”

- “Is that supposed to make me feel better? Give me back my job, the salary I lost or erase what my family and friends told me?”

To that, the man had nothing to say. There was no way for him to rewind time and do things correctly. He had wanted fame for catching the killer and forgot your were human. Forgot that you were innocent until proven guilty. Now he was the one being humiliated and ridiculized for messing up and a part of you hoped he would lose his job.

Because he had been right.

You were the masked killer. Or rather, one of them. There were two of you and no one seemed to have realized it, but it was true you and your partner had been more than careful to not leave any proof behind. You had been the careless one and now your partner had to save your ass.

That pissed you off because you knew he wouldn't shut up about it and would tease you relentlessly for the foreseeable future. What a mess.

And the fact the detective had identified you drew a target on his back. You needed him gone. Fired at least, dead at best. He was a threat and you needed to take care of him now.

- “Anyway, you are free to go.” The detective said, turning away from you and faking focusing on his screen.

Free, you got up from the chair and collected your things back. On your way out, you began texting your acolyte and told him to pick you up. You two had a lot to talk about but of course, not on the phone nor by texto.

Outside the rain was pouring like crazy and it took less than a minute for you to be soaked to the bone. In the middle of autumn, it wasn't the best thing to happen to you, but better than to be in the police station. You could feel the eyes and judgement of the people who walked by. They knew who you were and what you had been accused of. But they weren't important so you ignored their staring.

Your partner soon arrived and you quickly jumped on the seat next to him. After slamming the door he drove away in silence. Eyes closed, you rested your head and tried to calm your racing heartbeat. That had been a close call. Too close.

You could still feel your bones shaking as adrenaline still filled your veins. You smiled weakly when you felt your partner’s hand on your thigh, squeezing it gently in sign of support. Having him there, right by you was the only comfort you needed. Your friend, your soulmate, your partner in crime. Together you were unstoppable.

You opened your eyes and turned your attention to your partner. His eyes were staring at the road and you could see anger and determination in them. He was as pissed as you about what had happened, but at least he had the decency to stay quiet and not say anything about how you fucked up.

- “So. What are we gonna do?” He asked, hands grabbing the wheel tighter. “Your call.”

- “We fear him apart.” You simply said, resting your head against the cold window. “Tonight, we are going to make him and his whole fucking family pay.”

- “Good for me. I leave the kids to you.”

You nodded, eyes watching the scenery pass, the rain blurring the window but still allowing you to see.

- “First the kid, then the wife and we finish with him”

- “Aye, going to drive him mad! Oh, can I deal with his wife please, please, please!”

- “You saved my ass, do as you wish.”

You loved the terror you spread in town as much as the fear in your victims’ eyes as life left them. Tracking and playing with them, was your partner’s favourite but you two hated the same thing; waiting. The wait was definitely the worse part about being a killer. You had to observe and wait for the perfect time while the only thing you wanted was to paint the whole place red.

Hidding in the woods behind the detective’s house, you watched as his wife came home before him with the kids. His little spawns ran around, laughing and screaming as they played unsupervised, their mother too busy preparing dinner inside. It would be so easy to just scoop them up and make them disappear.

And that exactly what you did.

They never got a chance to scream, your gloved hand clasped shut on their mouths.

The sun set quickly and soon the woods were filled with cops and volunteers who hoped the find the kids. Little did they know, it was already too late. You had made quick work of sending them to see their grandparents but had put them in a mise en scène just for their father to find.

Obviously, you weren't part of the searching party.

You went back home, savouring the fruitful night by rewatching the Stabs movies with your partner. After all, you weren't supposed to know the detective’s kids were missing and after his accusations you had no reason to help him. You ignored your phone as long as you could until you had no choice but to reply to your “friends”, reassuring them you were fine and relaxing with your partner and didn't know anything.

It was predictable that the detective would come and confront you, but you still almost jumped off your skin. The pounding on your door almost scared you to death, but it was your boyfriend who confronted him through the door as he called the cops.

You listened to your partner and the detective screaming match, a knife in hand. If things escalated you wouldn't hesitate to guts the fucker and throw the plan out the window. Thankfully, two cops’ car showed up and the detective left with them.

You didn't need to talk for you and your boyfriend to understand each other. You both knew what was left to do that night. It was time to finish your business with the detective.

You waited in the woods, satisfied to see not only the yellow tapes but also the absence of any police cars. No one was there to watch over the house or their colleague, you had made sure of it with your partner. You didn't want to get caught, not now, not when you were about to get your revenge.

Once the sun as fully disappeared and the house was wrapped in darkness, you acted. In silence, you broke inside the house and split to be able to find the woman quicker. It was your boyfriend who got his hands on her first and he didn't give her the time to scream. He walked in the living room, her unconscious body on his shoulder and you could imagine the grin under the mask.

He dropped her on the floor with a loud thud before he gaged her. You gave him the rope and let him tie her like a saucisson while you walked around the room. Pictures of a happy family hang on the walls and the sight made you sneer. There was also pictures of the detective with his boss and other important people. You chuckled. Where were they? Not here, not protecting his wife.

You sat in the armchair after turning it to face the sofa. Legs crossed, you stared at the woman without words as she woke up. Her whimpers and tears didn't do anything but amuse you. You raised a hand and pointed at your partner, making her turn her head. She screamed, but the gag prevented the sound from coming out, as your boyfriend stabbed her in the belly.

He didn't stop there. Over and over again the blade fell on the woman like a brush on a canvas and her blood became the paint. It soon formed a puddle around her and after a long moment, she stopped moving. Yet, your partner wasn't finished. You shiver in disgust as he opened her up like a pig and cuts out her heart. He left it on a plate with a fake flower he grabbed somewhere in the house.

- “Done?” You asked and he nodded. “Good, let's go. I don't want to be inside when he finds her. Once he gets inside, we need to act quickly. He will call the cops and they'll be here in minutes.”

And so the waiting began again. You sat outside in the woods on a bed of dried leaves and sticks, back against a tree. Your partner watched, mounting guard, his back against the same tree as you with his arms crossed. Neither of you spoke, not wanting the risk to be spotted.

But you still interacted with each other.

Sometimes he would nudge you to get your attention, then make a small dance or just flip you off for the heck of it. You weren't better, hitting him with sticks or throwing dead leaves at him.

Then, the Detective came home.

It was time to finish the night in beauty.

You followed inside, quiet, as his scream echoed in the house. Under your mask, you smiled and pulled out your knife. With careful steps, you made your way to the living room and found the Detective cradling his wife’s headless body while crying. Behind you, your partner sneaked into the shadows and went hiding in a dark corner in silence.

You entered the living room and stepped behind the grieving man, resting your blade against his neck. You smiled as you saw him tensing in fear.

- “What's the matter, Detective? You didn't expect me tonight?” You asked, your synthetic voice filling the room.

- “You son of bitch! Why?” He asked, slightly turning his head as you took off your mask. “You! You… how…”

At the same time, your partner revealed himself, toying with his knife and slowly dancing. You saw surprise and shock appear on the defective’s face and you laughed.

- “Surprise! I am not alone, I never was.” You said, quickly sinking your knife in his throat.

You didn't wait and pulled out the blade and stabbed him again, but this time in the chest as he grabbed his neck trying to stop the bleeding. Gurgles left his mouth while blood rolled down his chin. It wasn't long until he laid dead in a puddle of his wife's and his own blood.

You stared at his corpse, tilting your head. He went down quicker than expected, but you were happy it was over. No one would suspect you anymore.

You slowly lifted your head and shared a look with your partner. He was there, applauding you as if you gave him the best spectacle in the world. You chuckled and put your mask back before bowing to him.

You two left the house and made your way back home. You hid your costumes in their usual place and went for a long shower. Under the warm jet, you savoured your boyfriend’s kisses and tender caress. Tonight again you had been the perfect duo and it only made you feel pride. Unlike any other Ghostface, it seemed that your duo might actually win.

And who knows? Maybe one day you'll feel bold enough to go after Sydney Prescott herself but until then, you'll enjoy your victories.

[sfehvn]

switch

Description: Tav takes matters into her own hands when seducing Astarion. A/N: Literally just a thousand words of pure smut. Astarion and Tav have fun being switches for a bit. This was the vibe while I wrote. Enjoy! Xx Rating: M (18+ minors DNI) Word count: 1,119 Characters: Astarion x Tav

━─━────༺༻────━─━

  The sway in your hips was magnetic as you hummed quietly to yourself. The lake's cool water came up to your waist, leaving your chest bare to any prying eyes. Prying eyes there indeed were; a predator skulked silently through the shadows of the trees. He observed you conspicuously. Or so he thought. His presence was no secret; you were determined to give him a show that would leave him yearning for more. Your shoulder blades rolled back as you straightened out your posture. You sensually palmed the frigid liquid over your breasts. Your head tilted back to face the moon as a mischievous smirk played on pert lips. The liveliness that could typically be heard from the campsite had long died down, and you could make out smoke billowing from the snuffed-out fire in the distance.

  You had been eagerly awaiting an opportunity to get Astarion alone. Since the night you two shared, shrouded by trees and the carnal lust of one another, he had been the one constant on your mind. Keeping a clear head was necessary; that knowledge was not lost on you. The journey before you and your companions was still a long one. Doing what you do best, you decided to take matters into your own hands. The permanent ache between your thighs would persist until you’ve scratched that itch. Or rather, until Astarion did. The flirtation and teasing had only made your craving for the vampire worse. Pride prevented you from simply voicing your needs to him. Instead, knowing that he’d be out hunting, you settled on giving him something worthwhile to hunt for. You.

  Water sloshed and calmed as he entered the water. His form is pressed to yours within seconds, his hard length against your ass. His hands come up to cup your breasts in his palms, lips pressed to your ear as he whispers, “I was on the prowl for a deer, but how could I pass up a meal as delicious as yourself?” Goosebumps rise across your delicate flesh. His cold lips find the crook of your neck, laying wet kisses in their wake. No doubt the same place he’d be feasting upon shortly. Fingers lace into his silver hair, sinking your weight against him. Your back arches in a desperation you try your best to conceal. It’s no use; Astarion is already tsk’ing playfully. “Tell me how you’d like it, darling. I’ve seen the way you look at me. Your little games are not lost on me.” He presses his stiff cock further against you with emphasis on his following words, “You only have to ask. I would be lying if I said I haven’t thought about that pretty little body of yours.” 

  Dominant demeanor be damned, you needed him. You needed to feel him inside of you. Feel his mouth on every single inch of your flesh. You turn in his arms and disregard the perceptive smirk on his face. Mouths press together, tongues fighting for dominance over one another. He hoists you onto his waist, your legs wrapping around him willingly to maintain your balance as he carries you from the body of water. Your back is pressed to the dirt beside the lake; his hungry hands explore your body. You watch him through half-lidded eyes as his mouth latches onto your clit. Instinctively, your back arches while your hands slink into his hair again. His tongue flicks, circles, and laps expertly at the bundle of nerves. Astarion had a long list of sexual conquests and had specifically been trained to watch for what makes people tick. With you, it felt natural. He watched you, not intending to learn but for his own self-gratification. The sight of you writhing beneath him was one to behold and made his cock twitch in anticipation.

  The balance of control shifts. You pull away from his mouth and sit on your knees, pressing his shoulder in a silent demand for him to lay back. Your lips place a teasing kiss on the tip of his cock before your tongue juts out to lick over the side of his length. You take the entirety into the warm confinements of your mouth. It’s only moments before you pull away, producing spit that strings down to rest on the head of his member. You use your hand to spread it over his length, taking your time with the action. You note the way his chest heaves as he gasps, eyes never leaving yours as you slink your leg over his hips. You slide down onto his cock, taking as much as you can before you feel him bottom out inside of you. You position yourself, hands pressed into his chest as you bounce, hair flitting over your shoulders with the movement.

  Astarion’s eyes flicker between your face and your breasts, relishing how they seem to react with every slight movement you make. His fingertips dig into your hips as he urges you to go faster. This time, you tsk in response, leaning down until you’re chest-to-chest with him, purposefully tightening the walls of your pussy around his length, eliciting a pleasurable groan from deep in his throat. “This is my little game, hm? Is it not?” Your words are sultry, and he thrusts further into you in response. “Tell me how you’d like it, darling.” You tease, stealing his mockery from earlier.

  “Gods, Tav, faster-” A proper moan escapes with his words, his mind spinning with excitement. Grinning pridefully, you oblige, sitting up to work your pussy rhythmically over his length. A whine leaves your throat with each moment, his cock perfectly hitting your sweet spot with every thrust of your hips. You collapse over him from the continued satisfaction, not quite to your peak. He takes the cue. His hands grasp your ass as he pounds upwards and into your dripping center. You bare your neck to him, and he wastes no time with sinking sharp fangs into your flesh. The perfect balance of pain and pleasure pushes you over the edge; your hands grasp at his hair as you feel yourself come undone. His seed fills you in tandem, his name sounding too sweet leaving your lips to hold out any longer. 

  He continues to feed on you once he’s come down from his orgasm and only pulls away once he feels your already-limp body still further. “Next time you’re feeling hot and bothered, just drop by my tent. As fun as this was, darling, I’m sure it would have saved you a few days of pining after yours truly.” Astarion teases, and you roll your eyes in response. However, you would be sure to take him up on his offer.

[princessbrunette]

being a brat while out with jj and john b to the point jj just has to smack your ass right there and all JB can say is “i told you so”

walking down the street with the two of them, being dragged along on one of their random stakeout missions, trying to find something somewhere (you don’t remember, you weren’t really listening)

except, you’re tired and hot and it’s got you in this super bratty mood. complaining, whining being a nightmare in general. john b is more tolerant, kissing the side of your head and rubbing your arm, a crease of sympathy between his eyebrows. “i know, it’s been a long day— just need you to tough it out a little longer, okay?”

of course you bite back with “i’ve been toughing it out all day. who’s stupid idea was it to wake up at 8?” kicking a rock as you walk along. jj walks ahead, determined as he keeps an eye out for what he’s looking for. he twists his body half around, pointing in your direction.

“hey, you watch that mouth. you’re here now, there’s nothin’ you can do, so quit the complaining.” he scolds, which hurt your heart because you hate being told off — but the brattiness fired off instead of the poutiness, rolling your eyes.

“i’m guessing it was jj’s idea then.” you sark to john b, who chuckles and shakes his head.

“careful. gonna get yourself in trouble.” he warns. knowing the blonde was listening, you raise your voice slightly anyway.

“he’s not gonna do shit.”

as if on queue, jj spins around, tilting his head as he marches back towards you. “oh i won’t? okay.” he grips your arm and drags you to the nearest alley out of eyesight from the world. john b sighs, reluctantly following and standing beside you two, shielding the view from the outside of the alley. jj spins you to face the wall, one hand pulling up your skirt and bunching it in his fist on your lower back and the other colliding hard down on your ass cheek.

“ow! jj!” you cry, folding instantly as you squirm and whine. jj only holds you tighter, bringing his hand down a few more times.

“you gonna stop with the attitude? ‘cos i can keep goin’.” he threatens and you shake your head.

“no, please —” you turn your head to pout, sniffling at the brown haired boy with softer eyes. “johnbee…” you whine for help as jj stares you down from behind.

“i warned you pup, jj doesn’t play around” his arms are crossed over his printed shirt and you realise your brattiness has completely disappeared, now just needing a hug.

“m’sorry jayj.” you quietly concede, and the blonde fixes your skirt back over your ass, stepping away.

“alrighty then, let’s get going.” he leads the way, and john b opens his arm for you to walk with him pressed to his side.

[ghcstpyre]

Can you write something with cullen brushing the readers hair? It's a cute concept to me 🫶🫶 thank u

thank you so much for the request! sorry it's taken me so long to get round to it - life has been kicking my ass :')

content: cullen x reader / inquisitor!reader / gn!reader / fluff

"You know, you're better at this than I thought you'd be."

Your shoulders were slumped, void of tension for what felt like the first time in a while as you let your body sink back into the chair at your dresser. A soft, brassy chuckle came from the man standing behind you and his careful hands paused their motions.

"It's difficult to not pick up on these sorts of things when you grow up with two sisters." Cullen replied, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards as his hands resumed their work.

Thanks to the Commander, the bristles of your hairbrush combed gently through your hair, making sure not to snag harshly on any knots. The hand that wasn't gripping the brush handle held onto your hair a few inches from the tips, his grip tightening and loosening when needed as he worked the bristles through the ends of your hair and gradually made his way upwards.

You were too relaxed to think of a witty remark and instead let a happy little sigh slip past your lips as the bristles got closer to your scalp. It wasn't often that you and Cullen got a quiet moment together like this - being the Inquisitor and Commander respectively left little room for any downtime, let alone any downtime together - so you were determined to savour every precious second of it.

Once Cullen was sure he'd gotten rid of any little knots, he began steadily dragging the bristles of the brush through your hair from root to tip, the fingers of his free hand following close behind, combing them through your freshly washed locks.

When you asked him to brush your hair after you'd finished bathing, Cullen had been worried about the evidence of battle he might find upon your pretty head; singed hair from the fire spell of a rebel Mage, a bruise from the pommel of a Templar sword, or a scratch from a wretched Shade demon. He was more than relieved however when he found nothing of the sort. Instead you were simply knackered down to the bone from your travels and fed up with the pettiness, fickleness and rudeness of the Orlesian nobility. He could see it in the dark circles around your eyes and the way you dragged your feet upon re-entering Skyhold.

You'd choose battling demons over playing The Game any day (much to Josephine's dismay).

A content hum left your mouth and your eyes slipped shut as Cullen continued to work wonders on your weary head. The quietness of your chambers in Skyhold was a welcome reprieve from the hustle and bustle of Orlais, as was the warm, welcoming embrace of the Commander. Your Commander.

"Mm...remind me to thank your sisters when I meet them."

Another hearty chuckle sounded from behind you and the wonderful tingling sensation of your hair being brushed finally stopped, causing you to whine weakly in protest. Cullen's free hand moved from your hair to rest on your left shoulder as he leaned over your right to place the hairbrush back down on your dresser. His head dipped down to level with yours as he leaned back from the dresser and pressed his lips to the soft skin of your cheek in a gentle kiss, his stubble feeling a little prickly against your face - not that you minded.

"I'm sure I can manage that." Cullen's voice was low and soft. His hazel eyes flicked down to your lips before he leaned in once again, his mouth finally finding yours after weeks of being apart.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Truly

Author’s note: Titus/Gadriel

Summary: Titus uses Charm, it's Very Effective on the younger, more easily flustered Ultramarine.

Warnings: Flirting, nakedness, let me know if I need to add anything else.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Tagged: @felinisnoctis

Gadriel had followed after the Lieutenant Titus- they'd finished a mission and where in a place deemed safe enough to have their armor off. Which had been nice, being out of armor after so long in it. Being able to clean his skin, and scrub the dead skin of his chest had felt great.

Gadriel- had spotted his new CO- and had headed over, determined to try and speak with him. Titus noticed one of his younger squad mates, the ever too curious Sargent following after him.

"Did you need something, Gadriel?" Titus asks as the younger space marine follows after him.

His eyes rove over the younger and slightly smaller Primaris marine's body. Both of his younger brothers are created Primaris, rather than crossed the Rubicon.

While scars cross the younger man's body, he doesn't have as many, denoting his relatively more youthful form. "Yes- I had some questions I'd like to ask you sir."

"Fire away," Titus says as he approaches the younger space marine.

Despite how nosy the younger space marine can be, he's quite a lovely looking man. He'd almost been taken off guard when he'd first seen under Gadriel's helmet.

Pretty, very, pretty. Not that Ultramarines tended towards ugliness, but beauty of the sort that Gadriel has is rare among officers of the Ultramarines, most having far more scars and wrinkles upon their powerful forms.

Blessings of youth, and Primaris greater healing abilities, Titus thinks to himself.

"You- are older, sir," Gadriel starts, unaware of certain thoughts in the older Marine's head at the moment, "And- are more experienced at war, and other things, but- you don't. You haven't been speaking with Chairon or I. Have been rather reclusive and terse."

"I have my reasons," Titus says.

"But- for the cohesiveness of our unit we need to bond with each other-" Gadriel protests.

'Ah,' Titus thought, a subtle smirk gracing his face. He moves closer and wraps one arm around the younger marines body and pulls him closer, squeezing his ass.

His other hand goes to Gadriel's chin as he gently grabs it and tilts the younger space marine's face up. "Do you?"

He watches as the way Gadriel's face turns bright red, his composure cracking and flustering a little as Gadriel flails with his free hand, palm raised as he stutters, "I- uh- ah."

"Cute," The older Space Marine says with a smirk as tugs Gadriel impossibly closer, grinding their clothed cocks together, the squeaking groan of pleasure from the younger marine has him softly chuckling and he presses as kiss to the younger space Marine's face. "Say no if you don't want this."

[twstbookclub]

mc in epel & rook's fic is my spirit animal fr, love how you protray rook and epel

... could you write about pining (and desperate) vil? 👀

oh my god, thank you! i try my best thinking about how the guys would act whenever i write them, so seeing you say that... i'm just really happy right now ;; i also try really, really hard to make a unique mc for each fic. with how the boys are though, it's hard to try and put in an mc who's not a fighter in a way.

also!! thank you for giving me the chance to write for vil. i was a bit stuck on what i want for him, until you came along. when i think of vil being desperate and pining for someone, he'd be the type to find excuses to be with them lmao. just use his position as housewarden and his acting skills, and you got yourself a vil who can fool anyone into thinking he has no ulterior motives to be with the one he likes. well, except for rook. as a man who has the pride of a professional, he wouldn't let anyone know he's weak for them.

anyway, i hope you enjoy this! this was inspired by how much i want vil to do my makeup, and for all the times my friend did my makeup. i had so much fun writing this, hehe.

you have no idea how tempted i was to write vil as blatantly desperate and pining for the mc the entire time.

Of Makeup and Subtlety

Summary: You should've known that you'd have to follow Pomefiore's rules during your stay there. Although... does Vil really need to do your makeup? Why is it taking so long? POV: 2nd Person Pronouns: Gender Neutral Admin/Writer: Cressa 🦋 Tags: Fluff, Romance, Makeup Session, Vil Schoenheit being Lowkey Touch-Starved and Desperate, Mention of a Sleeping Grim Word Count: 1,788

“Hold still,” Vil clicked his tongue, pressing the chub of your cheeks between his thumb and index finger. “You’re going to ruin all of my hard work if you don’t stop squirming.”

You grumbled and resisted the urge to roll your eyes. You two have been sitting before the vanity mirror for hours. Yesterday, Vil insisted on doing your makeup for today, and the pity on Epel’s face said it all.

You decided to ignore the ominous smile that stretched across Rook's face—as if he knew something you didn’t.

You knew Vil long enough to know how much he took his beauty routine seriously. The man wouldn’t even budge when you told him about the possibility of being tardy to class. He needed to do his and your makeup, after all.

“Then, we wake up at dawn,” Vil said, looking at you with that determined fire in his eyes. “Come now, Prefect. While you’re under my care in Pomefiore, you have to look your best. I won’t let one smudge of lipstick stain our dorm’s reputation when it comes to beauty.”

That’s what he said. Now, you’re stuck awkwardly sitting in front of Vil as he held your face. Your chin rested on the web space between his thumb and index finger. The regal blond frowned and squeezed your cheeks once you scowled.

“Vil, it’s the ass crack of dawn. You woke me up earlier than expected, and you know I’m not a morning person.”

The sun laid dormant, the beginning of dawn as silent as the Pomefiore Dorm. No sane person would wake up at this hour, except for Vil apparently. The housewarden in question huffed, whether in amusement or exasperation was beyond you. His grip on you softened as he dabbed and slid the makeup sponge over your cheeks. Despite your grievances, it didn’t deter Vil at all. He kept applying the liquid foundation like a mother ignoring her child’s tantrum.

“I’ve told you beforehand, yet you refused to sleep early—” Vil shot you a deadpan look as he continued pressing the sponge on your skin— “Like I suggested.”

You shrunk in your seat, feeling small from Vil’s scolding. He sighed, blinking the annoyance away from his eyes. A calm, almost calculated, gleam took its place. He set the sponge aside with a pleased smile as his thumb caressed your cheek.

“I knew I bought the right shade for you.”

You owlishly blinked, brows raising high at Vil’s words. “When did you even find time to get the right shade?”

“Just yesterday.” Vil hummed, the pleased smile turning into a self-satisfied one. “Never underestimate my eyes. One look at you, and I could tell which shade and colors compliment your skin.”

You swore you felt Vil’s fingers tense on your jaw. Maybe it was because he had to keep your face still from all your talking. A defeated sigh escaped you as you slightly shook your head.

“Alright, alright. Can we please finish this already?” You grumbled, fidgeting in your seat. “I might get pins and needles if I stay like this any longer.”

Vil rolled his eyes and twisted the cap of the concealer open with a flourish. “One cannot rush beauty, Prefect.”

“Professor Crewel’s whip says otherwise.”

Vil’s hand never left your face the entire time. His breath ghosted over your skin every time he leaned close. The gentle stroke of the brush over your closed eyelids; the soft caresses on your cheek as Vil applied the blush; the occasional press of his thumb as he spreads the product on your skin—the blond was lost in his own concentration. Every time his thumb slid across your skin, his touch lingered as his eyes drank in your features. In your honest opinion, he was looking a bit too long for comfort. With either a brief nod or shake of his head, Vil would either add, lessen, or change something in your makeup.

Bottles of foundation, concealer, and creams lined the tabletop. Eyeshadow palettes and compact blushes were left open as he worked his magic. Vil’s pale hand was streaked with color swatches and mixed shades. The stains somehow looked beautiful on his skin, which was surreal. It should be illegal at this point. The sun began to peek over the earth, and streams of sunlight shone through the window of your room. A streak of light revealed a curled-up figure in the shadow of your bed canopy. Somehow, Grim slept through all of your conversations with Vil.

Half of you was jealous of Grim for being able to sleep longer. The other half, though? You’d rather not admit that Vil’s attention and touch felt nice. You’ll take that secret to the grave.

A heavy sigh shifted your focus from the sleeping furball to Vil, brows furrowed and lips pursed. His fingers held your face again, turning it this way and that. The senior must’ve seen something because he picked up the eyeshadow brush again.

“It looks like I missed a spot.” Vil squeezed your cheeks and looked down at you with taut lips. “Be a dear and close your eyes for me?”

“Okay,” you sighed, frustrated and impatient. You bit back any snappy remarks, knowing how much effort Vil put into making you look pretty. It’s been hours, morning has already broken, and he’s not done yet. You have to give him credit, though. Your makeup surprisingly doesn’t feel heavy, even after the excruciatingly long process of putting it on.

You closed your eyes with your hands on your lap. Shuffling reached your ears as Vil’s breath warmed your skin again. Is it because of how hot his breath is, or is it the flush of your cheeks?

The brush swept across one of your eyelids in gentle strokes before the steady press of Vil’s pinky replaced it. After what seemed longer than necessary, Vil finally switched to your other eyelid. The hand on your chin tilted your head upward, still feeling hot from his breath ghosting over your skin. Vil’s thumb caressed your cheek as he did, making your breath hitch at how close he is. Your heart jumped into your throat and, suddenly, you couldn’t breathe.

“Keep your eyes closed,” Vil told you as his hand left your face. You could hear the pop of a container being opened, then you felt him cup your jaw and tilt your head again. “Slightly open your mouth for me.”

You did as told, feeling something smooth and thick glide across your lips. Trembles wracked your body at how unbelievably close Vil was. The tips of his hair tickled your cheeks, and his breath felt warmer. The hand applying the lip gloss rested on your cheek. You hoped that he couldn't feel how hot your face was at the moment. You almost gnawed your lip if it weren’t for his tight yet comfortable grip on you.

“Smack your lips,” Vil’s stern tone echoed in your ears. You did as told again, biting your pursed lips to stop them from quivering. When your lips made an audible pop, you heard a pleased hum from the blond. Not a moment too soon, multiple sprays of water greeted your face. A setting spray, you remembered Vil calling that tiny bottle of water on the vanity table. Hands held your shoulders and turned you around. Your head spun a little when he said, “You can open your eyes now.”

The moment your eyes fluttered open, you saw a different person in the mirror. Gold glitter dusted your eyelids, framed by your long lashes courtesy of the mascara. The smokey eyeshadow and meticulously drawn eyeliner emphasized the color of your irises. Your blemish-free, dewy face looked back at you with full, glossy lips that parted in surprise. You could barely recognize yourself. Hell, will anyone know this was you when you walked out of Pomefiore?

“I…” You stopped yourself from touching your skin, afraid to wipe off Vil’s hard work. Your hands stayed on your lap as you continued looking in the mirror. Your eyes sparkled and your skin glowed as your room bathed in morning light. You’re not entirely sure if the sparkle was because of the light, but…

“I’m beautiful…”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Vil gaze at you with a smile and something soft, an indecipherable emotion, in his eyes. A whisper in the wind prevented you from pondering about the odd expression.

“You always are.”

Your eyes widened at his words. It seemed like Vil didn’t intend for you to hear it. Before you could speak, Vil gave your shoulders a squeeze and lifted you from the chair. His smile from earlier disappeared, replaced by a pleased and shit-eating grin. You bristled a little, knowing that he’s proud of your reaction and the fact that he was right to do your makeup.

This smug, gorgeous bastard.

“Off you go, Prefect,” Vil hummed, shooing you away from your own room. “Wake Epel up for me, would you? Our dorm’s self-care routine should be starting right now.”

“You already have Rook for that,” you sighed, but started heading towards the freshman’s room anyway. When you reached the door, you paused with your hand on the knob. You pensively bit the inside of your cheek, pride and common courtesy warring in your mind.

“Thank you,” you muttered, glancing at the Pomefiore housewarden over your shoulder, before you hurried out of the room with red ears and long strides.

Still and silent, Vil simply stood in front of the mirror. A smile graced his lips as his eyes softened, adoring and longing. A sigh slips past his lips as his heart slowed to a calm beat. He took the liquid foundation and peered at the manufacture date, the black ink stating its creation from a few months ago. The rest of the containers displayed the same month on their manufacture dates, hidden from plain sight.

“That was close,” Vil chuckled, gripping the bottle tighter, before he placed it back, “I can’t let the prefect know how much I pay attention to them, can I?”

His pride as a professional would be damned if you found out how fond he was of you. After all, it wasn’t easy to scour every shop and boutique for the perfect colors. Nothing less for the person Vil adored and longed for every second of the day.

A sleepy mewl snapped Vil out of his trance. With a sigh, the Queen’s visage returned to its stern beauty as he prepared himself for a grouchy, troublesome Grim. No one could ever know, and it would start with furiously brushing the cat’s fur to distract him from the makeup on the vanity table.

[sideroachblog]

Leg Day

Crossposted from my Ao3 since I finally made a blog for mature fic--been up for a while, you might have read it already!

~5.5k words of 09 soaproach

Summary:

Roach was frustrated--he'd kill for a little privacy at the barracks gym, but his captain didn't seem to be going anywhere anytime soon. At least they were the only two around so late at night.

NSFW 18+ MDNI: handjobs, dry humping, blowjobs, face fucking, exhibitionism. Captain Soap gets a little mean with his poor Sergeant <3

~~

It was late in the evening as Roach rounded the corner to the barracks gym. Usually the double fire doors at the end of the hall had pitch black windows this time of night, devoid of activity, not a single soldier crazy enough to bust their ass after sweltering day shifts and PT. If you asked Roach, this was the optimal time—with no one nearby to see, he felt free to work out without his gaiter. It was easier to breathe without the fabric, without the eyes of other gym-goers.

Today, however, yellow fluorescent lights revealed movement through the glass. As the sergeant approached, cursing the inconvenience, he got a better idea of what was happening inside. There was one silhouette at a station, currently bench pressing an impressive amount of plates along the center aisle. Towel and canteen in hand, Roach leaned his hip into the door’s push bar and slipped through to join them. The room was on the smaller side, square and somewhere around fifty paces each way. A high drop ceiling was put in with acoustic tiles to absorb the clangs and bangs of obnoxious meatheads, although it never seemed to work.

Of course, Captain Soap was the mysterious soldier putting in the overtime; how else would he have acquired biceps big enough to hide a gallon jug behind when he flexed? At least it was a fellow member of the 141 and not some other rookie, or worse: a captain Roach didn’t recognize. Ever observant, Soap noticed him despite his earbuds blasting unintelligible sound, greeting him with a nod and a smile. Cursing more, Roach realized he forgot his own headphones.

But he returned the gesture, stretched, and decided to start with cardio. He loathed cardio, usually running last so he could immediately shower and sleep, but he wanted to put distance between the captain and himself, meaning he had to use whatever equipment was jammed in the furthest corner. Unfortunately, these were the treadmills. At least they were blocked from Soap’s line-of-sight by a mirrored wall.

After fifteen minutes of that torture to get his heart pumping, Roach moved on to arm-curls in the corner behind his captain. He’d only wanted to work his legs that day, but the coveted leg press was catty-corner across the aisle from Soap, who seemed determined to work every damn muscle in his arms. Once sufficiently jellied, Roach’s own arms needed a rest. Anything working his chest would also work them, so that left two options: legs or abs.

Abs it was.

After that, Roach had no choice but to work his chest, as Soap still commandeered the same bench nearly thirty minutes later. Who knew there were so many different exercises a man could do on a single machine? How many fucking reps was the maniac doing?

Roach was ready to give up at this point. He guzzled his water behind the mirrored wall, grabbed a wipe to clean his machine, then prepared to turn in for the night, sore and upset that he hadn’t accomplished his goal. But, as luck would have it, there echoed the telltale sound of weights being racked. Then the captain peaked around the wall to nick a sanitizing wipe, disappeared for a minute, reappeared to trash it, and left the gym entirely. The boom of the massive fire door reverberated off the cinderblock walls. Fucking finally, Roach could use the leg press. He settled in, set the pin in the weights, and started his exercise, happily unmasked all by his lonesome.

He was so in-the-zone that he nearly missed when the door slammed again, if it weren’t for movement in the corner of his eye.

It was none other than that motherfucker MacTavish. Maybe it would have been better if the silhouette was a rookie; Roach had the authority to tell them to pound sand. Was this anger unwarranted? Absolutely. The gym was a communal space. But on base it so frequently felt like privacy was a luxury he’d never taste again, and now he had to put his gaiter back on—not before taking another swig of water.

Surely the captain would busy himself on farther equipment, no? Surely he wouldn’t lie down at that same goddamn bench?

No, of course he wouldn’t. Instead, Soap secured plates onto another barbell and sat down in front of a bench parallel to the aisle, directly across from the sergeant. They faced each other. His knees bent at a forty-five into the air, holding the bar in place across his lap, broad shoulders resting against the bench as he reclined. Soap made eye contact and gave a friendly wave, reminding Roach that his desires were completely unreasonable.

Roach checked the clock. It was only midnight and his next shift was night duty nearly eighteen hours later. There was no rush, nor was his leg day anywhere close to when he would normally call it quits. He briefly wondered what Soap was doing up so late, then decided to fall back into his routine.

He tried to zone out. That’s what Soap busied himself with, staring at the ceiling over Roach’s head as his music rumbled in his ears, planting his feet and thrusting the barbell into the air with his hips.

Bloody hell; how much weight was that? From that distance it looked like a fifty-five, a thirty-five, and a ten plate on each side, two-hundred total. About Roach’s size, and Soap did it with ease.

As the end of Roach’s set crept up his cheeks flushed with exertion. He huffed with every leg press trying to reach ‘twenty,’ having already lost count after ten and restarted.

Soap paused, popped out an earbud, then got back to it. “You can take it off, ye know.” His voice echoed like everything else, sounding Scottish from all directions.

It was an excuse to rest on eighteen reps. Roach signed, ‘What?’

“The mask. You and that damn LT, you’re both crazy; sounds like you’re struggling to breathe in that fookin’ thing. I won’t look if you do. Pinkie swear.”

He shook his head ‘no’ and watched his superior work, who grunted under his breath as he powered through a set. The captain was a man in the prime of his life: a force to be reckoned with, trained to make good, physical use of his body, and god did he use it. Took care of it, too—ate as well as he could considering what the cafeteria provided, gave his all during PT, and, apparently, stayed late to put in extra hours at the gym. In everything Soap did he gave 110 percent, and that passion earned him the merciless power, the unapologetic vitality, the sheer sculpted bulk that aided his prowess on the battlefield.

Roach was in awe of him in his element. Soap’s toned calves tensed with each hip thrust, well defined as their muscles swelled then quickly tapered towards his knees. They were covered in dark hair that thinned before disappearing below loose, red athletic shorts. The polyester left little to Roach’s imagination, draped overtop his thighs, outlining their firm muscles that arced gently to his V-line. His thighs were thick as they connected to his pelvis, sturdy, a single one easily wider than Roach’s head. Above the elastic of Soap’s shorts his fuzz returned fiercely, trailing to his bellybutton where the barbell pushed up his sweaty, grey t-shirt. Under the healthy cushion of pudge on his tummy tensed mighty abdominals, flexing and exerting their will on the iron bar without remorse. His arms were taught holding it in place, narrowing down to his wrists before his hand interrupted its smooth line with the square jut of its thumb; veins webbed over the back of his hand, sinking into the flesh before reaching his knuckles. A thin layer of sweat coated his skin, reflecting light when it wasn’t absorbed by damp body hair.

Roach was still winded from his set and embarrassed about it. Luckily, the footrest of the leg press machine angled up enough for him to hide behind—enough to hide the half-hard cock in his own boxers that his skivvies did little to conceal.

Soap huffed as he exerted himself, saying, “Suit yourself. Maybe I’ll stare, then, since you don’t seem to have a problem doing it.”

By the way he laughed it was obviously a joke, but Roach’s eyes shot open wide and his ears flushed pink. The captain caught him ogling and didn’t even know, sitting there with dimples framing his stupid grin and crinkly crow’s feet.

Soap stopped and relaxed to the floor the way he had before his set. His wide ribcage flared with every inhale; one of his hands ventured under his shirt to scratch an itch. The cloth caught on his wrist, pulling it up and exposing more of his empyreal chest until Roach nearly saw the crease underlining his pectorals.

Roach felt faint. ‘Just watching your form,’ he rushed, lying, ‘Whenever I do that exercise it hurts. I think I do it wrong.’

“Woah, slow down! I can’t understand a word you’re sayin’ tae me. I’m not as good at reading sign as you are at rambling it.”

Right. Roach’s signs got sloppy when he was embarrassed.

‘Never mind.’

Soap asked, “Naw, don't be like that. Something about form, was it? Was that the sign for ‘hurt?’ Did ye need some help over there?”

Roach shook his head and cut his fingers flat through the air in front of his neck to stress how little he wanted that. With the way his brows shot in the air he wished he had his goggles, but at least everything below was hidden.

Soap was already up. He racked the barbell and crossed the room, steps squeaking on waxed linoleum. “A good captain has to help his crew, aye? I can’t leave you hanging!”

Roach snatched his canteen off the floor to hold in his lap, suddenly glaring at his trainers on the footrest.

Soap approached his left side, boxing him into the machine since the weight rack blocked his right. He exclaimed, “Jesus, you’re really getting into it over here. Go on, then; show me whatcha got.”

It made Roach flush even harder. Hesitantly, he dropped the canteen and got into position, starting another set of presses.

“I can’t see much wrong with your form. What’s hurting?”

His dick in his pants as the fabric rubbed it. Roach replied, ‘my back.’

The captain looked puzzled. Humid heat radiated from his body, carrying the masculine scent of power. “Hm. Maybe its your shoulders? Quit hunching ‘em,” he ordered, planting his strong hands on either side of Roach’s head and forcing him back against the chair.

Holy fuck, was that the only time Roach ever felt glad to have lost his voice. A pulse of energy bolted down through his abdomen, eliciting a moan from his throat; luckily, the actual noise was light and airy without the vibration of his vocal chords, easily mistaken for normal exercise-induced sounds.

“Oh, sorry, did I hurt ya?” Soap asked, leaning over him.

Roach shook his head no, only looking him in the eye to distract him from the prominent tent now rising in his pants.

“Feel good, then?”

He nodded.

“Try a set like that,” the captain commanded. He backed off to examine Roach in his entirety.

Did he try to cover his boner with his hands? Or would that draw attention? He’d usually relax his arms at his sides. Maybe Soap wouldn’t notice, or, if he did, he’d write it off as a consequence of how hard weight lifting worked up the body. Roach left his arms at his sides and got to exercising.

“Beautiful,” Soap admired. “Good lad.”

Fuck.

“How much weight have you got on there? Two-fifty? Yer a big boy, add that next weight! Let me see what you can do.”

To add it, Roach would have to twist to the side. Would that draw attention to his… growing problem?

Soap smiled. His canines were sharp, off-white, a little crooked. He patted Roach on the shoulder, saying, “Don’t be shy, now. Show off for me. Take some pride in yourself!”

Roach’s cock throbbed. Weight added, he started another set. It was harder—his legs shook from the extra effort required. Glancing down, he saw a wet spot where pre-cum soaked through the cotton of his skivvies.

“Lovely, look how great you’re doing.”

Roach faltered, stopping dead in his tracks. The praising tone in Soap’s voice struck him as most certainly un-captainlike.

“Ah, come on, sergeant, don’t stop! You’re killin’ me! Keep those shoulders back.” His hot, rough hands forced Roach back against the chair, lingering firmly, pinning him there. “You can do more for me. More than ten leg presses.”

That stupid smile still plastered across his face, but his dimples disappeared as it failed to reach his eyes. His head tilted down, staring at Roach’s face, then glancing down into the gap between their chests.

Roach pressed his thighs together in an effort to hide his arousal. He was panting at this point. His heart pounded in his throat, body stunned stock-still from being overpowered.

Soap thinned his lips. “I think I know your problem. Take that fookin’ mask off, Sergeant, before ye overheat. That’s an order.”

Roach couldn’t move for fear Soap would realize what he did to him.

Soap noticed the look in his eye. “Here, let me get it for you,” he said. It was a warning that it would happen, not a request for permission as two of his thick fingers hooked the edge of Roach’s gaiter and rested against the sergeant’s cheek; yet he bluffed. Soap asked nonverbally, waiting for Roach to call it, waiting for him to nod his head ‘yes’ before ripping it down.

“Good lad. Look at you—all stubbly. You’ve been wearin’ this tae hide when you skip a trim.” He chuckled and dragged the middle knuckle of his fingers along Roach’s jawline towards his ear. “I could write you up.”

Roach fidgeted under the attention. His face was cold now, and he felt dirty—Soap didn’t know what he was doing. He accused, ‘You’re bitching just to bitch. You don’t shave.’

They both knew it. None of the 141 followed that regulation—they were too valuable to replace.

“Yeah? And what are you gonna do? Write up your captain?”

‘Hypocrite.’

“Mhm. Never said I wasn’t.”

‘Gaz has a goatee,’ Roach protested.

Soap smirked and looked coolly to his left and right, showcasing the luxurious beard that grew scruffy since its last cut. “Is Gaz here?”

Roach shook his head.

“How do you expect me tae bitch at a man who’s not here?”

‘You can’t.’

“Mm. You’re the only one I can discipline ‘cause you’re the only one around.”

Discipline. Roach’s cock throbbed again and his whole body shivered, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling, but he snapped them open. Soap still loomed over him; he wasn’t dreaming.

“Add another plate. You can do it, Roach. Quit holdin’ out on me. One more.”

Realizing his mouth was slack, Roach grinned. ‘Say please,’ he signed, trying to joke and distract himself from the heat in his belly.

Soap leaned in, breath hot on Roach’s skin, making his stomach flip as he wondered if the man had ulterior motives.

No. Surely not. Roach was horny and reading into things.

“Now, sergeant,” he commanded.

‘Say it.’

The captain’s face dropped to a serious glare. He growled, “I think you’re confused on how things work around here. You listen to me.” Then he reached across Roach's midsection to move the weight pin down another notch.

His forearm brushed the tip of Roach’s dick.

The sergeant moaned softly again, still trying to conceal it, hands shooting up to cover his face. His heart dropped in his chest at the anticipated fallout and he hunched to make himself smaller. He longed to feel his captain pressed against him, grabbing his waist and using him mercilessly like that fucking barbell, not satisfied until Soap’s fingertips pushed purple bruises into the skin on his hipbones.

And now the cat was out of the bag.

But instead of deescalating, pulling away and awkwardly running out of the gym, Soap grabbed ahold of one of Roach’s wrists. His grasp was strong enough to dominate the sergeant physically yet gentle enough for Roach to escape if he wanted to, waiting for the sergeant to reveal himself rather than forcing his hands down. Then, Soap… chuckled? His voice rolled dark and low.

Roach peeked between his fingers. Soap towered over him, one corner of his mouth raised in a slight smile like the Mona Lisa, pupils dilated like a shark tracing blood.

“Don’t hide from your superior. This isn’t the first time I've caught you staring.”

Roach didn’t reply. He couldn’t reply without exposing his humiliated face.

Soap waited a moment before releasing his grip, pulling away from his subordinate. His left forearm rested alongside Roach’s head on the headrest, fingers tugging softly his hair. “Don’t worry, lad. I like the attention.”

Roach peeked upward.

“It’s quite flattering, if I’m honest. I can tell what you’re thinkin’ when the tips of your ears go all pink.”

Holy fuck. Roach had to be dreaming. Any second now he’d wake up on the ground after falling off the treadmill.

He built up the courage to scan the man’s face.

It had relaxed, Soap now watching his fingers toy with his sergeant’s dark curls. He said, “I can leave you be, if you want. If I’m seein’ signs that aren’t there and I’m comin’ on too strong. Say no and I’m out of here, no-questions-asked, no hard feelings on my part.”

Roach considered moving his hands to sign all the carnal things he desired from his captain, paralyzed by shyness.

Then the captain went to stand up, removing his forearm from where he leaned which left a cold, empty void. An apology had only half-escaped his lips when Roach snatched the collar of his shirt to halt him from leaving

“Oh? You want me tae keep goin,’ then?”

Roach nodded and turned his head to the side so he couldn’t see Soap seeing him.

“Just bashful, aye?”

He nodded once more.

“Say it. Tell me you want me to stay.”

Releasing the man’s crumpled collar, Roach signed, ‘Stay.’

Soap cursed and reinvaded his personal space. “Tell me what else you want.”

Roach considered all the various ways he imagined Soap fucking him senseless until he was a shaking, drooling mess. It was too much. ‘You.’

“Say please.”

Without the use of his vocal chords Roach was able to whisper, “Please, sir.”

And that was all it took. In a flash Soap mounted the leg press, straddling Roach with a knee on either side of his thighs. Leaning forward, he grabbed the sergeant by the jaw; however, he did not force his head to turn. No, Soap held him there looking away, held his neck exposed.

He shivered when the captain’s lips found his clavicle, kissing him softly while the man’s other hand gripped the top of the headrest, bearing down onto a forearm like before. Soap contained Roach with his hulking frame, its shadow eclipsing the fluorescent lights. The kisses ramped up in intensity as Soap sucked a hickey into his flesh, then graduated to licks and love-bites, hunting for the types of touch that made him squirm most. At first, Roach held onto Soap's upper arms for dear life, then eased into the attention, trailing fingertips down the captain’s firm lats once he felt comfortable enough to give more.

Soap’s mouth took a meandering path across Roach’s throat, pausing to focus on his Adam’s apple; doubling back into the crook of his neck, pulling his shirt collar aside to reach it; then following one of the muscles that made a ‘V’ with his sternum up until it connected behind his jawbone. Careful not to leave any visible marks, Soap planted kisses just below Roach’s ear, moaning when the sergeant dragged nails down his sides.

Roach breathed another needy whisper and gripped Soap’s mohawk to lock his head in place.

Soap shivered at the touch, turning over like an engine. Between hickeys he breathed, “Fuck, I love to hear you. I’ve needed to hear you like this for so long.”

Needed.

Roach bucked his hips up to grind on his captain. It was everything he ever wanted, feeling his cock rub Soap’s abdomen, pressing into soft chub that yielded before those hard abs beneath it resisted his force. The captain's dick was also hard—sliding against the side of his own through thin layers of athletic wear, yearning for the same sensation from Roach’s body. As they fused, the movement rocked the seat of the machine on its rails.

Moaning, Soap removed the hand from Roach’s jaw to push the man's pelvis back onto the cushion with the heel of his palm, thrusting downward to continue the friction. “God, you’re bein’ so good for me.”

Roach threw his elbow over his eyes, high enough to peek under it and see the man rocking into him. Soap’s face was pink, mouth agape, watching the way Roach fought his hand to buck his hips in pursuit of stimulation. Soap’s powerful grinding made the effort futile, yet still he persisted. The man glanced up to meet his gaze, only for Roach to lower his elbow and block it.

“I’ve wanted this ever since I heard you whisper my name in the showers,” Soap growled.

Oh, fuck.

That had been another night similar to this one: Roach worked out at the gym, frustrated, alone in the wee hours of the morning before a night shift. No one was in the showers, either; he saw no harm in releasing his pent-up tensions in the warm, steamy stall. As he palmed himself his thoughts inevitably wandered to his superior, bringing him closer and closer to the edge until his legs buckled as he finished, nearly falling to his knees at the thought of being throat-fucked.

“I don’t think you heard me come in ‘cause of the water; unless you wanted tae show off for someone, you naughty whore.”

Roach’s breath hitched.

Soap pulled aside Roach’s collar again to suck a hickey into his skin, flesh tingling as it bruised like a peach. The gym air was cool where the cloth no longer covered, and the sergeant whined as each excited breath he took pressed his pectoral up into his captain’s warm lips. Once satisfied with his work Soap released his collar, tucking their little secret away.

“I’d never heard ye before. Didn’t know who was whispering at first ‘til I saw your bag oan the hook. Know how hard it was to hear your sweet self when the water was loud enough tae hide my noisy ass? But I hung off every word ye said, beggin’ me tae use you like a fucktoy,” Soap said. Then he receded, sitting back on his haunches to take in the sight of the sergeant he pinned. Roach wanted to reach after him, to yank him back, but he hid behind his hands. The captain dismounted entirely, grabbing Roach by the wrist again to pull him up straight.

“Flip around,” he commanded. “Put your back oan the footrest. I’ll give you what you want. I’ll use you as I see fit. I own you, sergeant.”

“Yes, sir!” Roach whispered. Then he did as he was told, after donning the gaiter to regain use of his hands. He shook with excitement knowing the arousal was mutual, still not fully convinced he wasn’t concussed and hallucinating on the floor behind a treadmill.

Ass now resting on the stopper at the end of the rail, his legs spread off to either side of the machine, eagerly awaiting MacTavish’s next move.

“Good boy,” Soap said, running his fingers through Roach’s hair. He sent tingling shivers down Roach’s spine as he dug in with his nails. His other hand cupped Roach’s cheek.

‘What next?’ The sergeant signed, leaning into the touch. He felt miniscule on the ground, waiting patiently for directions despite how eager he was to touch.

“Aw, listen to ye. Always ready to follow your captain’s command; what a good boy!”

Roach melted, all that heat sinking right to his cock.

Suddenly, Soap’s hand shifted to his throat, tightening around it and jostling him. He said, “Next, I take that goddamn mask back off you, ‘cause good soldiers don’t disobey and hide from me. I should tie your—” He shut his mouth when Roach stared up in terrific fear, then gasped, “Fuck, you’re hot when you’re pathetic. Better breathe while you still can, bitch!”

Roach held Soap’s wrist on instinct, dizzy as he pondered what the threat meant. He didn’t wonder long—the captain removed his hand from Roach’s neck, shoved it into his shorts, and pulled his dick over the elastic band. It was a pleasant length, uncircumcised, and thick enough to make Roach second-guess his life choices as he stared down the barrel of a loaded gun. Pre-cum beaded at the tip ready to drizzle like honey, the sight of which already tied his stomach in knots. The shaft of Soap’s cock was a few shades darker than the rest of his skin, as hard as it could ever be yet heavy enough to curve downward under its own mass. Its base disappeared into thick waves of brown fluff. The sergeant barely had time to see anything in detail before Soap took a fistful of his hair to force his skull back against the footrest, the other hand swiping his gaiter down—he cursed in frustration, releasing Roach’s head just long enough to grab on either side of the garment’s seam and rip it apart.

Roach shielded his eyes in his elbow as Soap resumed pinning his head back. It was hot, having someone want him so badly they'd do anything to see him, but he was too damn shy. The blush crept down his neck.

His superior growled, “One of these days you'll let me watch that beautiful face while I destroy you. I want to see what you look like when you’re so over-fucked it makes you cry.”

His rough words elicited a gasp from Roach, an opportunity to shove his dick in the sergeant’s mouth, taking him by surprise. Soap eased into it, groaning as the tip pressed against Roach’s tongue, rocking his hips. To keep from choking Roach braced himself on Soap’s thigh.

Once his length was slick with spit the captain stopped being so conservative in the force behind his thrusts, fucking further into his toy, reaching halfway, then three-quarters, then finally balls-deep as he tilted Roach’s chin up to make him take it all. His heavy balls hit the sergeant’s chin as he used his mouth, and he hooked one arm over the footrest in order to buck harder into his prey.

Roach moaned around the dick wrenching his jaw open, swirling the tip with his tongue. It tasted of salt and skin and sweat, filling his mouth with a mixture of drool and pre-cum that spilled from his lips, dangling down in sticky ropes that soaked into his shirt. His face flushed as he struggled to get enough oxygen.

Between his own desperate breaths, Soap showered him with praise. “Where’d you learn to take it like this, m’eudail? Holy fuck, you feel so good. And you haven’t even choked—so well trained, like a goddamn dog. Is that what you are? Your captain's little bitch?”

Roach was enamored with the attention, enraptured by the man’s words, yet found it unfamiliar to the point it nearly became too much.

Soap so-graciously pulled out to give him a break. He made the most of it, panting, knowing that the mercy was short-lived. He was correct; barely ten seconds passed by the time Soap couldn’t contain himself any longer, burying his cock to the hilt in one thrust as he resumed fucking Roach’s throat, pinning the sergeant’s head between his abdominals and the machine.

Soap moaned between labored sighs as he neared climax. “Take it, baby! Oh, fuck, take it all.”

It wasn’t long until Soap let go of the machine to sink both hands into Roach’s hair, gripping the locks for dear life as he held the man’s head down as far as possible. His cock throbbed as it spilled cum down Roach’s throat, pulling out halfway as the sergeant struggled to take it. The rest filled Roach’s mouth, flowing across his tongue in hot bursts he had no choice but to swallow. Soap rocked his hips gently, riding out each wave of the orgasm as his legs quaked and his body doubled over around his fucktoy. He was silent, holding his breath, holding in noises they both knew would echo out the gym and far down the hall.

After about thirty seconds he pulled out completely, finally separating with a wet pop! as Roach sucked on the sensitive tip. His dick already began to soften, still dripping as it twitched from aftershocks. Roach caught his breath with pink cheeks and closed eyes, letting them open briefly as Soap put himself away and collapsed back onto the seat of the machine.

“Good boy,” Soap said. One of his large hands cupped Roach’s cheek, stuffing a thumb in his open mouth. “Wow, you swallowed all of that, huh? You’re such a slut for me.”

Roach hid his face in his hands again, throwing whatever dignity he had left out the window as he nodded in agreement. “Yes, sir,” he whispered. “Anything for you, sir.”

“Now, a good Captain never leaves his crew behind, does he?’

Roach shook his head, so excited he peered between fingers.

“What to do about you…” Soap mused.

His hands swooped up under the sergeant’s shirt, cupping his chest before sliding down his midsection. They slowed as they reached Roach’s V-line, teasingly, agonizingly inching down until Soap’s fingertips dipped below the waistband of his skivvies. His own dick still stood hard, covered in its own pre-cum. Soap toyed with its head, then curled his palm over the shaft so Roach could buck against the friction and fuck between his thumb and forefinger into his fist.

“You like that?” Soap asked.

Roach leaned forward to hide in the crook of Soap’s neck. The captain smelled of deodorant and his own natural scent. “Yes, sir.”

“Aye, of course you do. Look what a pathetic mess I make you.”

He shivered as Soap met him in the middle, stroking him off and wrapping an arm around his midsection to hold him tight. The captain’s triceps slotted in above his hipbone, forearm spanning wide across his back to where a rough hand rubbed a smooth, soothing arc. Under Soap's praise, under the urgent panting that puffed softly from Roach’s lungs, came the wet sounds of his own thrusts.

Into Soap’s ear he whispered, “Close, I’m close!”

His superior pulled back to catch him in a kiss, their parted lips alternating between locked together and an inch apart while they shared the same air, Soap doing his damnedest to hold Roach’s attention and watch his face as he finished. It was no use—after a parting love-bite, Roach rested his forehead back on Soap’s shoulder as his thrusts grew sloppy and disorganized until he finally came, shooting thick ropes onto the hem of his captain’s t-shirt. He bit back moans.

“You’re so goddamn hot,” Soap growled. “And you’re all mine. Don’t you forget it.”

“Yes, sir!” Roach moaned, the final tides of ecstasy retreating.

Suddenly, he became aware of how unbearably warm the room had become. Soap kissed him one last time, then peeled them apart. They were sweaty, sticky, and exhausted, supporting each other like two cards in a tower. Roach tucked himself back into his boxers, then wiped his spit-covered face on a dry part of Soap’s shirt. It made the man laugh. Roach would have used his own, were it not striped with sopping drool stains like a Jackson Pollock painting.

“Hit the shower, sergeant,” Soap commanded, pulling away, although adoration filled his voice.

Roach gave him a tired salute. He’d have the entire night shift to agonize over what this meant. For now, he needed to clean up, eat some protein, and head to bed.

[flowerscarlethe]

☀️tease tidbit tuesday🌙

I've spent the last three weeks writting this au sort of thing and i like it a lot so i hope you all like it too!

...

[i've called this one «sunshine and moonlight:insomnia»]

...

Buck's snoring next to him and Eddie can't fall asleep. Funnily enough, the snoring is not the direct cause of his insomnia. Yes, it is loud and a little bit annoying —and he recalls Chris through the years often saying he couldn't sleep well because of it, bullying Buck till he's begging for forgiveness and understanding while shooting his adorable, sad puppy look at Eddie— but Eddie is used to it after so many nights hearing it just a few inches away from him. At this point, for Eddie the snoring it's nothing but a constant reminder that Buck is besides him pretty much alive and healthy, having some crazy dream he will share with him and their kid —'I'm almost nineteen years old, dad, come on!'— over some hotcakes in the morining. Eddie needs this, needs to know that Buck is right here, that he didn't stay dead after being struck by a lightening eight years ago, that he didn't die in a fire he recklessly ran into or drown in a fucking tsunami, crushed by a firetruck or asphyxiated by blood clots. It's soothing —Buck's presence, the peaceful heaving of his chest and his breath against the naked skin of Eddie's shoulder, the snores so close to his ear and the warmth his body radiates— and it's somehow frightening at the same time because he's terrified of how easy is to be with this man, to have him around, to lean on him; it terrifies him how easy is to love Buck, to be married to him and to raise Chris together and to have his back and– and how unbearable it would be to lose him, how broken and hopeless and sorrowful he would be. And that's why he can't fall asleep. Deeply-asleep-Buck seems to decide that's the perfect moment to take over the whole fucking blanket while shifting in bed, removing his right arm and leg off Eddie's chest and hip respectively, and letting his partner to freeze his ass off in this colder than usual december dawn. Eddie snorts, determined not to allow this betrayal, turns to his right side and ends up facing Buck's gorgeous, broad back full of scars —Eddie's got a fair amount of scars on his skin too. That's what being a firefighter for the last twelve years would do to you— and little freckles. He wants to kiss them, so he does while his left hand finds its way to Buck's belly. And maybe a bit lower, too. “Hey” says Buck a moment later, voice raspy and calmly spoken words. Eddie can almost see the gears of his brain starting to run very, very slowly. “What are you doing, exactly?” “My husband stole the blanket and I'm cold” Eddie answers in that famous irritating, snarky tone of his while still spreading kisses all over Buck's skin. He won't stop loving the fact that both of them are used to sleeping in their underwear anytime soon. “So I'm looking for an alternative way to get all my warmth back.” Buck chuckles and turns around, wrapping his body —and the blanket— on Eddie's again. Buck is twirling his beard between his fingers and pressing the softest, sweetest kisses on his face and Eddie can't not think that this is happiness, that this is the paradise everyone talk about. “You know what? I think i have some ideas to accomplish that mission of yours” Buck mutters, his lips on Eddie's and their legs interwined. They're right where they belong. “Of course you do.” And Eddie can admit that the sound of his husband's giggles is even better than his snoring.

...

I'll be bringing you some more context later this week ♡ thank for reading!

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[no one tagged me to share this and i don't really know anyone i would be comfortable tagging. so maybe you could reblog or leave a comment if you want me to tag you next time!]

[callingallbaddies]

Teasing Game

Request by @starobsidianruby

I couldn't help but notice the way Bret's eyes followed me as I moved across the room. It was like he was spellbound, unable to tear his gaze away from me. A mischievous smile played on my lips as I decided to have a little fun with him.

I sauntered over, each step deliberate and enticing, knowing that every movement would only intensify his desire. As I got closer, I could see the anticipation building in his eyes, a hunger that mirrored my own.

Leaning in close, I whispered seductively, "Is it my imagination or are you finding it hard to resist me?" My voice dripped with sugary sweetness, teasing him mercilessly.

Bret's breathed as a smirk curled up at the corner of his lips. He tried maintain his composure, but I could see the fire burning in his eyes. knew I had him right where I wanted him.

I gently traced a along his jawline, feeling the tension in his body increase with each touch "You know," I purred, "I could make it even harder for to resist." I leaned in closer, my warm breath grazing his ear, sendingivers down his spine.

His voice came out strained, barely a whisper, "What are you suggesting?"

With a playful glimmer in my eyes, I teased, "Well, maybe if you can prove yourself worthy of my attention, I might consider giving in to your desires."

A mix of frustration and determination flashed across Bret's face as he took a step closer, closing the remaining distance between us. His voice was low and filled with determination, "Challenge accepted."

I couldn't help but chuckle at his response, delighted by the thrill of the chase. With every trick up my sleeve and every tantalizing move, I would keep pushing his boundaries, teasing him until he couldn't resist any longer. The game had just begun, and I was determined to make him crave me like never before.

As the days went by, the teasing between us escalated. I would send playful glances his way, slyly brush against him in passing, and drop hints of what he was missing out on. Bret became even more determined to win me over, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and frustration.

One evening, we found ourselves at a crowded party. The atmosphere was electric, and I could sense the tension between us reaching its breaking point. Spotting Bret across the room, I decided it was time to take things to the next level.

I approached him with a confidence that matched the fire burning within me. "You've come a long way, Bret," I whispered as I leaned in closer, my lips brushing against his ear. "But are you ready for what comes next?"

His breath hitched, and I knew I had captured his full attention. With a mischievous smirk, I grabbed his hand and pulled him towards a secluded corner of the room. There, hidden from prying eyes, our little game would reach its climax.

The excitement was palpable as our bodies pressed against each other, the undeniable chemistry crackling in the air. Our lips finally met in a passionate embrace, and it was as if time stood still. All the teasing and taunting had brought us here, to this moment of undeniable desire.

In that electrifying kiss, we both knew that there was no turning back. The teasing had served its purpose, igniting a flame that couldn't be extinguished. As our hearts raced, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction, knowing that my playful teasing had led us to this intoxicating connection.

He pushed me against the sink and pulled my dress up and ripped my panties. I breathe as I felt him quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants. His hands cam across my chest and pulled down the straps of my dress.

“So you think I wouldn’t win this challenge without you being punished for it.” His choice hushed with deepness undertone. “Of course daddy I’m good little girl for you. I teased him. I felt his hand come across my black ass before I felt him spank me.

Feeling my juices run my leg while feeling his cock against my ass. He flipped me around and deeply kissed me before going to my black pussy. I deeply gasped as I felt his tongue on my clit, I gripped his long black hair and pulled him closer. His hands on my hips to keep me in place.

Felt like I was running out of air as my lungs burned. He chuckled on my pussy as I was almost close to my orgasm. “I’m close baby just please stick your finger in me.” I deeply whimper. “Haha no you don’t deserve an orgasm. Only good girls get to to cum.” He stood up away from me standing in shock.

Grabbing the back of the back of my head and pulled me towards his cock. Forcing my mouth sucking it while the party still going outside. “That’s it my slut baby, suck on daddy’s cock for me.” His voice echoed. Taken him deeper in mouth while foundling with his huge balls. I decided to tease his slit while doing kitty licks.

He shoved my head back down and told me stop teasing. I decided to do my special trick is to swirl my tongue around his cock while sucking. His grunting and loudness against the music was so damn erotic and a turn on. It was soon he blew his load in my mouth making sure I drink his cum.

“Hehe and no you been a bad girls don’t get to come.” He said while tucking his cock back in his pants. Fixing our selfs up and leaving out the bathroom and decided to leave the party. Hated to not cum but I knew he would when we get home….

[fair-night-starry-tears]

I refuse peace for Aqila and I discussed this idea with @anxious-twisted-vampire but here’s some angsty story

Magical girl au: what if, Aqila returns the ring to the true maiden (btw fuck Jasminko, Jasir is the better good maiden) and gets heartache from Kalim true identity. And she turns to someone to rid her ‘love’ for good…..

- Hades is a dog lover prove my ass wrong bitches.

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It was a ruthless day in the Underworld, Hades throwing a fuss over another lose thanks to the maidens. “How can you guys, FUCK THIS PLAN UP AGAIN?!” Hades was screaming, his fire burning a brighter red. Burning the room, as the imp men were cowarding. Turning to worms per to tame their boss anger, “we are so sorry!!!” Cries the two. Meanwhile, at the gates. The cousins of two were outside, Dread was playing games and slouching while Agony stands ground. Until….. he saw someone approaching, he knew her face very well. Pressing a button to Hades office, and it was rapid pushing of buttons until Hades screams to the younger imp teen. “What?!” He shouted. “Y-you have a client! And….. you’re gonna want to see her….” He said. As the two cousins soon guide her.

Hades was pacing around, throwing stones and throwing steaks to his precious Cerberus. That’s when Dread and Agony arrives, shoving the doors open. “S-sir!” Said Dread. “She’s here….” Said Agony. Stepping to the sides to reveal….. Aqila. Standing there with her eyes red and puffy. Hades saw the girl, and smirked in a laughing voice. “No way. One of the warriors for the maidens?!” He laughed. “Well….” He said, suddenly spawning the girl to appear to him. “What seems to be the deal you want? Fame? Money? Power?” He asked. As Aqila stayed quiet, glaring at the God of Death. “You know exactly what I want….” She said with spite. With Hades grabbing her head. “Ah yes….. a way to stop to falling in love because sunshine boy revealed himself. Or rather. You found out about him?” He said with a smug look on his face. Aqila scoffed, but crossed her arms. “That’s one way to say it….” She said. Hades chuckled. “You know, I never was to dabble with love. That’s Aphrodites thing. But to end “being in love with” that means. Destroying yourself emotionally in the process. But that pretty much means, damning your soul in the process. You know that.” He said. “Whatever it’ll take to stop pitying myself. I’ll take it. Whatever you want, I’ll do it.” She said, showing her hand. Hades did thought of it, making Jafars behated former maiden and current warrior protector his little minion and dead spirit. Hades immediately shook the girls hand as a circle of smoke appears, suffocating and blowing the room. Revealing Aqila bangs lifted upwards to reveal a scar and a lost blind eye. “It’s a deal kid!” He said.

……

….

….

..

.

Aqila was back at the training grounds, swinging her sword as she struck the training dummy as a knight. It was her job. However, it was clear this girl had changed for the worse. As much Jasir tried to approach her, he was always dismissed so coldly. And he never pestered her again, despite wanting to try.

Aqila was clear to show nothing but determination. Though….. it is very clear she lost her will to love again. And she vows to never be fooled again this time. Fool her once, shame on you. Fool her twice, you’re dead to her…..

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@adrianasunderworld @mangacupcake @writing-heiress @the-weirdos-mind @skboba-stars @nproduction626 @rose-tea-and-strawberries @anxious-twisted-vampire @yukii0nna @achy-boo @abyssthing198