#i counted just now. i drew him 18 times before i was satisfied

[ihavesomejays]

B-SIDE U

again so sorry for delay because i was savoring summer break and was out of commission for two weeks. i'm gonna do two more shirt designs and i already know which two characters are gonna be on them, sorry folks.

final note i'm still figuring out how i'm going to sell these (kickstarter maybe?, bigcartel, etc. idk) but know that the shirts will be in the 20-30 dollar range, probably closer to 30 after shipping is added. planning on printing on 100% heavy cotton t-shirts. will let you guys know when things are finalized!

as always, would appreciate a share! tuition is Expensive(tm)

[bellaxgiornata]

You Promised

Pairing: husband!Matt Murdock x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings/tags: 18+; shower smut, oral m!receiving, that damn crucifix necklace, and a little bit of choking

Summary: Matt is a giver, he always has been. He's also terrible when it comes to asking for what he wants–but that changes tonight.

a/n: I was inspired by the Born Again trailer shower scene, like everyone else, but I tried to resist writing anything with all the smut already coming out. But after poor Matt was pleasuring everyone else in showers all week, I figured he needed his turn in the shower. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Hot steam filled the air around you, fogging up the glass of the shower door. Only half of you remained beneath the spray of the showerhead as warm, wet droplets trailed down your back in rivulets. A chill seeped into you from the inside out at the contrast of Matt's damp and slightly cool body pressed to the front of yours.

Matt was usually always so deliciously warm, but the difference in temperature between him and the water cascading down the back of you had long since caused your nipples to stiffen. With your breasts currently crushed against his firm chest, you knew that sensation alone was driving him wild because you knew how much he enjoyed toying with your nipples–with either his mouth or his fingers. But tonight you were aiming to do more than just drive him wild; you wanted him to fall apart. You wanted him to stand there with his back against the tiled wall of the shower while he let you take care of him. You wanted to hear him crying out in ecstasy like he always made you, and you wanted him to be the one to vocalize what he wanted for once–what he needed.

Because after all, he'd promised you that tonight.

Mouth attached to his neck, you sensually sucked at the skin just below his jaw. It was a spot that you knew from past experience always had an effect on him, which was proven when he loosed a soft whimper just above your ear. The noise drew your lips into a smile against him, releasing the skin from your mouth before shifting over towards the chain of his crucifix. You nipped at the sensitive skin above it with your teeth, satisfied when his head finally dropped back against the shower wall behind him with a groan, giving you further access to his neck. Your tongue slid out between your lips, the tip of it dragging along him, teasing him as you tasted the bit of salty sweat still lingering on his skin from his night out in the suit.

As your mouth paid careful attention to his neck, your left hand continued to attentively roam his body. It traveled up through the hair along his forearm, the tips of your nails catching the fine, dark hairs beneath them before dragging their way past his bicep and towards his toned chest still slick from the shower's spray. But your right hand remained busy brushing across the dampened and sensitive skin just above his cock, right at the start of where his thick, dark pubic hair formed. You'd been intentionally making slow passes from left to right and back again with your flattened palm for a few minutes now, your mouth trailing slow, tender kisses that followed the length of the gold chain as you took your time. 

Matt's cock had long since stirred awake beneath your attention. It had been noticeably pressing harder and harder into your thigh, begging you not to be ignored. But that's exactly what you were doing right now. Because Matt was supposed to be telling you what he wanted tonight–learning to say what he needed instead of always giving and giving. You wanted him to learn that he could also take.

This was about him.

“Sweetheart,” Matt whispered. “Please?”

Nuzzling your face into his neck, you brushed your nose back and forth along his pulse point. You weren't going to make this easy for him because he needed to learn to use his words and  verbalize what he wanted. You wanted to hear him say it for once; he needed to learn once and for all that he was allowed to want things too.

Matt's hands which had been settled along your hips suddenly gripped the damp flesh when the tip of your nose bumped into his jaw, his hands yanking you somehow closer to him. A shudder ran up your spine in response, goosebumps dotting your skin as the warm water overhead continued to race down your back. His tight hold on you had felt good, reminding you of all the times he'd bent you over the back of the leather couch or the bed as he fucked you with such vigorous fervor. Wetness that had nothing to do with the shower dripped down between your thighs. 

But he wasn't supposed to be doing that to you.

“Matty,” you warned. “You promised, remember?”

“But sweetheart,” Matt protested, his voice pitching up into a whine. “I can't. I just–just need to taste you. Let me taste you, please, angel?”

You withdrew your face from his neck, your right hand pausing its movement above the patch of his damp pubic hair and instead resting along his skin. “What you need to do is let me take care of you, Matt,” you reminded him. “This isn't about me. You're supposed to be telling me what you want tonight.”

A defeated groan flew from his lips, his head once more falling back against the tiled wall behind himself as he loosened his grip on your hips, his blunt nails no longer deliciously biting into your skin. You felt an uncontrollable heat stir inside of you at the sight of him before you now, though. His eyes were closed, his bearded jaw tensed as he clearly fought his own urge to push you back into the tile instead. You had no doubt he was struggling with the increasing scent of your arousal filling the shower. You knew the effect it always had on him. But you didn't want him between your thighs like that, not tonight. 

“That's it, Matty,” you praised, enjoying the way the corners of his lips twitched. “That's my good Devil.”

You leaned back in towards his neck, placing a soft kiss just below his jaw. You felt a shudder race through him, a faint whimper slipping out between his lips. 

“Now tell me–” you whispered into his skin, moving your mouth lower to place a gentle kiss at the base of his throat, “–what you want.”

Your mouth moved lower, taking the gold crucifix between your teeth and giving it a light tug along his neck. Glancing up, the gold cross still between your teeth, you were pleased to see his eyes had tightened further shut. He was going to cave soon, you could feel it in the way his muscles had tensed against the front of your body. Your right hand dipped a bit lower, the tips of your fingers brushing lightly past the base of his cock.

“Touch me,” he begged, finally breaking. “I need you to touch me, sweetheart. Please.”

Dropping the crucifix from your teeth, it fell back onto his chest just as your right hand gripped the girth of him. A satisfied smile spread across your lips as you gazed back at Matt. His eyes had opened, their focus somewhere just past your shoulder as a flush crept into his cheeks. Your hand began to stroke him, thumb intentionally circling the tip of him when you’d reached it.

“This good, Matty?” you whispered. 

“A little faster,” he replied, voice tight. 

Following his instruction, your hand quickened its pace, your thumb occasionally pausing to circle the sensitive spot along his head. It wasn’t long before a deep rumble vibrated straight from his chest and right into yours. You felt your cunt pathetically squeeze around air, a thrill shooting through you. Matt’s bottom lip immediately caught between his teeth as he attempted to stifle a soft cry that still managed to escape his mouth. You knew he'd heard that and you knew he was struggling to refrain from slipping his fingers inside of you in return. Instead, his hands had once more increased their pressure against your hips, the heat of them hard to ignore as they nearly burned your skin.

“What else do you want, Matthew?” you questioned.

Your hand continued to stroke his cock as you waited for his reply. With every few pumps of your fist around him, you caught the way his hips would occasionally jolt forward into you. A pleased hum sounded in your throat. This was getting closer to what you'd wanted to see. 

“Kiss me,” he ordered. 

Without wasting a second, your other hand left its place along his chest and grabbed him by the chin. You tugged him towards yourself, connecting your lips to his in a heated passion. The beard he’d recently grown and you’d quickly come to love pleasantly scratched against you as your mouths moved in sync, the feeling beginning to drive you a little over the edge. As if he could tell, Matt’s mouth began attacking yours more earnestly, a low moan sliding into your mouth when your tongue slid into his.  

The kiss quickly grew into something desperate, growing need causing Matt to begin roughly biting at your lips with his teeth. Taking cues from the way he’d begun rutting forward into your hand, you increased the pace with which you continued to work him over. But when your thumb swiped across the sensitive tip of his cock this time, Matt broke away from your lips and another deep moan barrelled straight out of his chest, echoing around the tiles of the shower.

“Ah–fuck ,” Matt ground out between his teeth. “Need more.”

Breathing hard, your eyes met his darkened ones. His chest was heaving against yours, his own breath coming in sharp pants now. His gaze was fixed around your chin, a fierce look of desire burning inside of them. You relished the sight of it because this was a Matt you had not often seen before.

“Tell me what you need,” you whispered. “Go on.”

“Mouth,” he nearly growled out. “Your mouth.”

“Like this?” you asked, feigning innocence. 

You leaned down towards his collarbone, dragging the flat of your tongue across the length of it as your right hand finally came to a stop. Looking up at him from beneath your lashes, you watched as his eyelids fluttered, a muscle tensing in his cheek. 

“Or like this?” you breathed out.

Trailing a few open-mouthed kisses just a bit further down, you paused to clamp your teeth onto part of his chest, right beside his nipple. A hiss of pleasure shot out between Matt’s teeth in response and you grinned at the sound.

“Is that what you meant, Matt?” you asked coyly.

You watched as his throat bobbed with a hard swallow, his head shaking once.

“No,” he ground out.

“Then Matty–” your tongue delicately swiped at his hardened nipple, your pleased smile growing when he squirmed against you, “–say it.”

“Sweetheart,” he whined in protest. “Don’t you want me to get you off? Wouldn’t–wouldn’t you enjoy that?”

“Oh, I’m enjoying this plenty,” you assured him. 

His eyes snapped shut when your lips sucked his nipple into your mouth next, your tongue swirling around the peak. You could feel his cock throbbing in your right hand where it had remained motionless, waiting for him to finally say what you knew he wanted. For a minute he remained silent instead, continuing to squirm against the shower wall as you lapped at his nipple. Eventually a string of curses passed his lips in a rush the moment your teeth raked over him.

“I want your mouth on my cock,” he growled out, his voice bordering on the Devil’s deep snarl. “I want you swallowing my cum.”

Releasing his nipple from your mouth, you shot him a satisfied smile as you gradually began to lower to your knees before him in the shower. Dragging the nails of your left hand down his torso as you went, you delighted in the way his abdominal muscles twitched at your touch.

“There you go, Matty,” you purred. “There’s my big bad Devil.”

Sitting on your knees, you were finally face to face with Matt’s erect cock. Hands running up and down his thick thighs, you licked your lips in anticipation as you admired the sight before you. He rarely ever let you suck his cock because he was always too busy fucking you with it if his mouth wasn’t damn near glued to your cunt. But now it was all yours to enjoy, and you were going to revel in every sound that passed his beautiful lips as you did.

Right hand gripping the base of him, you leaned forward and lightly circled your tongue around the tip. Above you, Matt emitted a throaty groan, the sound raising the small hairs on the back of your neck. Refraining from lunging forward and taking him all at once, you licked up the length of him painfully slow with the flat of your tongue, wondering just how good that had felt with his senses when his head slammed back into the shower wall with a soft thump as he inhaled sharply between his teeth.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he panted out. “Don’t stop.”

As you continued to lightly lick up the length of him, Matt’s breathing began to fill the shower as it came in sharper and faster. The sound was unexpectedly building the heat between your legs, your left hand unable to resist slipping between your thighs. Eyes slowly closing, two of your own fingers began circling your clit, your back arching at the jolt of pleasure that raced up your spine. No longer able to resist, you took him into your mouth, a soft moan vibrating around his cock.

You felt something brush gently against your cheek and your eyelids fluttered back open. Once more looking up from beneath your lashes, you saw Matt’s head had tilted forward along the tiled wall. He was staring down at you with hooded eyes and a crease between his dark brows as his hand tenderly stroked your cheek while you sucked his cock.

“Are you–touching–yourself?” he asked between heavy breaths. 

Unable to respond verbally, you hummed in answer. A sharp whine fell out of Matt next, your fingers increasing their pressure against yourself as you observed his reaction. Focusing your attention on the head of his cock, you felt Matt’s hand slide its way down your cheek and past your jaw until it encircled your neck. He squeezed with just enough pressure for you to feel it, a resounding growl filling the steamy shower as he did.

“Put two fingers inside of yourself,” he suddenly ordered. “Now.”

A ripple of satisfaction flooded you. Obeying his command, you slid your fingers between your damp folds before slipping them inside of yourself.

“I want to hear you–” he broke on a moan, his head once more falling back against the shower wall. “Want to hear you fuck yourself with them.”

Kneeling on the floor at Matt’s feet, you continued to suck his cock with a renewed enthusiasm while your fingers began to pump in and out of yourself, the wet sound loud even to your own ears. You could tell Matt was getting close now by the way his thighs had begun to shake and how frequently you’d started hearing his broken whines above you. The walls of your cunt tightened around your fingers at that knowledge, another one of your moans vibrating around his cock.

“Ahh–” he hissed out. “Can almost taste you from here.”

“Mmm,” you hummed in answer, aware how much he always enjoyed the vibration.

“Shitshitshit,” Matt breathed out in an unbroken string immediately. “That’s it sweetheart, just like that. I'm–almost there.”

You continued to pump your fingers faster into yourself, your own legs trembling along the floor of the shower. Matt's hips began to visibly fight the urge to rock forward into you, causing you to take him further into your mouth with a pleased hum. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Matt groaned, his voice breaking on each word. “Just–like– that!”

On the final word, you felt Matt’s warm release flood your mouth. Not remotely letting up as a high-pitched, drawn out cry flew out of him, his hand still gripping your neck, you worked him through the rest of his climax. Greedily you swallowed down every salty bit of him like you’d been starved for the taste. You weren’t sure when he’d allow you the pleasure of this again, and that thought had you soon cumming on your own fingers, one last pleasured moan vibrating along him as he filled your mouth.

When both of you were finally spent, a haze of contentment washed over you along with the warm shower spray. Slipping your fingers out from inside yourself, you released his cock from your mouth with a soft, wet noise. Licking your lips, your attention returned to Matt’s face above you, and you were delighted to find a blissful, pacified smile drawn over his own lips.

“So, was that worth keeping your promise?” you asked him.

“Mmm,” he hummed back, nodding his head sluggishly. “Mhmm. Maybe I should promise that more often.”

“You absolutely should,” you agreed.

Slowly rising back up to your feet, you felt satisfied to see the way he was leaning back against the wall behind himself–as if he needed it to help hold himself upright. After his night out as Daredevil and that explosive release he'd just had, you figured he probably did.

“But I think now,” you continued, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him away from the wall and into your arms, “you’ve earned your shower and some sleep. What do you think?”

Matt’s arms encircled your waist in return, his forehead coming to rest lightly against yours as the pair of you both now stood beneath the showerhead. He bumped his nose affectionately against yours, his tired smile growing further.

“I think that sounds like a great idea, Mrs. Murdock,” he whispered.

Matt Murdock One Shot/Shorts Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @ladywholikesreading @sleepysleepymom @tartbeanpuzzles @harleycao @sunflower-tia @gamingfeline @juskonutoh @kezibear @ninacotte @withyoutilltheendoftheline @justanerd1 @scriptedmoon @ethereal-blaze @lucienofthelakes @sarahskywalker-amidala @flowher @loves0phelia @a-half-empty-g1rl

[little-diable]

The Chase – Draco Malfoy (smut)

Since y'all seem to enjoy my Draco fics that have some rougher smut in them, I couldn't stop myself from writing this. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Draco has been feeling frustrated for days, something that finally changes as he tells his wife that he's ready to hunt her down and remind her who she belongs to. Basically pwp

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, rough smut, tied wrists, dom!Draco, hide/seek, oral (f), some degrading

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!wife!reader (1.8k words)

Her eyes were focused on her phone, while her heart was racing in her chest, pounding with a strong beat that whispered to her, urging (y/n) on to prepare for what her husband had just texted her. Draco had been in some kind of mood for the past days, a rather snappish mood she hadn’t enjoyed being around, deciding to keep her distance while he worked through whatever he had struggles with at work. But the text she was now rereading for the tenth time told her that all the pent-up frustration would be left in the past after tonight. 

“You may run and hide from me, but tonight, I’ll catch you. xxx” 

Draco and her had done this a while back for the first time, letting him hunt her down before using her like a vessel for his frustration and anger, littering her body with marks she’d trace in the midnight hour with a proud smirk. She loved the chase, the thrill shooting through her body while her adrenaline spiked. 

(Y/n) knew that Draco would find her in no time, very well knowing that neither of them could go long without touching their significant other, especially when both were urged on by their frustration, their need and hunger for one another. She could already feel him buried deep inside of her, letting her walls clench around nothing at the mere thought of being fucked by her husband. 

Perhaps he’d use their blindfold, perhaps he’d tie her to the bed, while fucking her from behind, whatever it was he was about to do to her, (y/n) would take it all with a satisfied grin, ready to offer every inch of trembling body to her husband like a sacrifice. 

Tonight she’d let him play, tonight she’d let him win their chase – very well knowing that whatever he’d do to her would be her greatest win after all.

……

“Honey, I’m home!” Draco’s voice echoed through their house, ringing in her ears as she hid beneath their bed. It wasn’t a creative hiding spot, and yet it was the perfect place for them, knowing he’d find (y/n) in no time, to fuck her rough like she knew he would.

The sound of his feet meeting the wooden ground made her breath hitch in her chest, while picturing the suit perfectly clinging to his frame, with the first few buttons of his shirt undone, and how he was wearing his blonde hair slightly gelled back – a sight that would make her fawn over her handsome husband. 

“Where are you hiding, pretty girl?” She heard Draco step into the room next door, opening their dresser, and closing it again after a few more seconds. (Y/n) counted the passing by seconds, letting the numbers echo through her mind while Draco kept taking his time, stepping into their bathroom for a few seconds. 

“I can’t wait to fuck your tight cunt, while you scream my name, it’s the only thing I could think of today.” Draco’s voice dripped with something dark, something that drew a soft moan from her while she stayed hidden. His feet came into view as he entered the bedroom and closed the door behind himself, seemingly all too aware that she was hiding close by. 

“Fuck, honey, I will make you tremble, make you forget your name while you take my cock like you were made to do.” Without another warning he crouched down to reach for her, pulling (y/n) from her hiding spot with a satisfied grin. She barely got any time to understand what her husband was doing as he picked her up and threw her down on the bed. 

(Y/n)’s gasps echoed through the bedroom as she stared up at Draco, focusing on the smirk he wore, paired with that dark gaze that pushed heat straight to her pulsing bundle. Draco settled between her naked legs, only wearing a shirt of his and her already damp panties, to reach down and kiss her breathless. 

It had been days since he had touched her, let alone kissed her like this, a teeth clashing kiss that made their hearts race and their limbs tingle. Her fingers found their way to his blonde hair to tug on his roots, trying to pull her husband even closer while he shifted his weight onto his right hand as his other hand reached for their bedside table. 

“Give me your hands, pretty girl.” He murmured the words against her already swollen lips. (Y/n) wanted to protest, wanted to beg him not to tie her to her bed, but the warning gaze he shot her left her breathless, unable to speak a single word. Draco gently took her wrists to tie them to the cold metallic frame of their bed with the dark green rope he enjoyed using on her. “Such a pretty sight, but I think we’ll have to get rid of that shirt, I want to see all of you.”

“Draco,” the warning tone dripping from her voice left Draco chuckling as he reached for the small knife they used whenever they were high on the thrill, staring at one another while he’d trace her skin with the knife. All (y/n) could do was tug on the rope as he sliced the fabric of his shirt apart, exposing her naked upper body to his twinkling eyes.

“Fuck, look at you, baby.” His head dipped down to press a kiss to the valley between her breasts before his hand dropped the knife to cup her right one. She was a moaning mess, choking on her sounds while he pressed his middle against hers, letting (y/n) feel his hardening cock. 

“Fuck me, Draco, please, it’s been so long.” He spared her words no attention while he sucked on her hardening nubs, drawing gritty sounds from (y/n) – sounds that made his cock twitch in his suit trousers. Draco gave himself a few more moments to suck marks into her skin before he finally let his hands find her panties to move them down her legs.

The two held eye contact as he rose to his feet, while staring down at her to slowly undress himself. Draco was teasing her, enjoying the desperation tugging on (y/n)’s features while she watched him, unable to touch her husband. His shirt was dropped to the floor as his hands began to work on his belt and finally on his trousers and underwear to expose his hard cock to her wandering eyes. 

Precum was glistening on his tip as Draco slowly stroked himself, giving (y/n) a show as she could only tug on the rope and try to shuffle closer to him. She was impatient, burning from inside out, all because he made her feel this whirlwind of emotions, high on whatever he’d offer his wife. 

“Spread your legs for me, baby, show me how much you need me.” Her body blindly followed the command. She spread her legs for his bright eyes, letting him take in the sight of her arousal-covered folds, of her pulsing bundle, and the beautiful skin he’d kiss any moment now. Draco moved slowly, calculated as if he had thought of this strategy for hours on end, trying to figure out the best way to make her tremble in need. 

Their eyes kept searching on another, Draco settled back between her legs to let his tongue brush through her slit, moaning at the taste of her arousal. Both knew they wouldn’t be able to drag this out for much longer, needing to feel one another in the most intimate way imaginable. His tongue moved fast, brushing over her clit to draw a loud moan from (y/n) while she arched her back off the mattress. 

“Oh god, ‘missed you so much.” (Y/n) mumbled her words, confessions that left Draco smiling against her naked cunt. His bright eyes intently studied her, while he pushed two fingers into her tightness, spreading her walls to prepare her for his twitching cock. He allowed himself to fuck her for a moment or two before finally pulling away from her, set on pushing her over the edge with his aching cock buried deep inside of her. 

“You’ll take my cock like the good girl you are, and then I may allow you to touch me.” His words echoed through her mind, a small distraction for a second or two as Draco aligned himself with her heat, only to push into her as she nodded her head. Both moaned in unison at the familiar sensation, already high on the feeling of her tight walls clenching his cock, begging him to fuck her into oblivion. 

The rope burned into (y/n)’s skin as she kept tugging on it, praying to whoever was listening that she’d be able to feel him soon enough. Draco fucked her without holding back, letting his body meet hers with every ferocious thrust that left both moaning, choking on the sweetest sounds clawing through them. 

“Fuck, I love you, my perfect girl.” Draco’s words dripped with arousal, with a hunger that made the inferno burning deep inside of her grow, threatening to leave marks with its heat – marks that may never fade again. Her walls fluttered around his cock as his thumb found her clit, offering the extra stimulation she desperately needed.  

“Let me touch you, please.” (Y/n) whispered her words with wide eyes and parted lips, hoping that her husband would finally give in. It took Draco a few more thrusts before he followed the call and tugged on the rope, letting it drop to the mattress while her hands instantly found his face, pulling him in for a kiss. 

Their tongues fought for victory while Draco fucked her closer to the edge, making her see stars whenever he met her swollen spot. Her hands found their way down his neck to his shoulders, letting her fingernails scratch his skin to draw groans from him, and finally letting them claw into his skin to draw some blood. 

“Cum for me, baby, clench my cock while you scream my name.” He marvelled at (y/n) as she came, letting her head roll back to expose her throat to his wandering lips. Draco left his marks on her throat as he fucked her through her high, only following her down the edge as she panted his name again, like a prayer leaving her soft lips. 

“Don’t ever go that long without touching me, do you hear me?” (Y/n) whispered her words as he rested on her chest, letting them both of them relax as the sweet sensation clung to them, reminding them of one another’s love. 

“I promise, even though this was fucking worth it.”

[notmuchtofind]

Inpatient | r.c

word count: 2k

tw: 18+, daddy kink, degrading, masturbation, slight abuse, praise kink, c0ckwarming, slight mental b0ndage, pillow grinding, dark rafe, dom rafe, fingering, p in v

synopsis: Rafe catches you pleasuring yourself and isnt overly please

a/n: ahhhhh another feral read!!!! be prepared <333 I hope you enjoyyy. also thank you sm for just over 100 followers and over 1000 likes so quickly! lyyyy🤍 alsoooooo, hbd drew! ✨eeeeee xox

You walk your bare feet across the floor and through into the ensuite of Rafes bedroom. You begin to brush your teeth and as you do so you check your phone; 11:23pm. You sigh as place your phone on the side of the sink basin. Rafe told you he'd be back around 10pm, he's not text or called to update you. But to be honest, this isn't unlike him, it doesn't worry you too much. You just wish maybe he would let you know from time to time... He said he had a few things to take care of when he left this morning, things he does not discuss with you and you're okay with that, you have an incline that not everything Rafe gets upto is legal, you know he doesn't want you to get mixed up in any of his work.

Rafe insisted you to stay at his whilst he was out, The nights come earlier as its now winter, even though the temperature is still pretty high and it can be quite pleasant. the rain and fog in outerbanks is substandard today, its not safe for you to be out there in Rafes eyes. Rafes protective, if anything bad was to happen to you he would blame himself, And you'd rather abide by rafes rules, probably because he praises you when you do and to be honest, you'd do anything to hear rafe tell you you're his 'good girl'. and partly because you're very hesitant to get on the wrong side of rafe. You've been there a few times and you try everything in your power to not make it a frequent occurrence.

You walk over to the bed ,still not made from the night before. you sink into the sheets and contemplate what to do with yourself...you twiddle with the drawstrings of your pyjama shorts as you run possibilities through your head. But the one thing that's forced to the front of your mind is rafe, you've missed him all day, desperately craving his touch and you have no idea how soon it is till he's home. The thoughts of last night with rafe circle your head, his hand trailing down your thigh when you're just about to drift off to sleep, signalling what he wants. If he's feeling soft, he'll always begin by planting kisses on your neck, then wander down your body and stopping when he reaches your core...

The thoughts send you spiralling and you can't help but reach down your pyjama shorts, rubbing gentle circles on your pussy through your panties, already slightly soaked from the thoughts of your boyfriend. You arch your back and let out a soft moan as you slip your hand into your panties and begin to trail a finger up and down your cunt, making sure your wetness is covering your folds. another soft moan slips out of your mouth.

Your clit begins to throb and is begging to be stimulated. But your fingers just don't seem to be enough, you're longing to be riding rafes length, you just want to feel yourself straddling him whilst his cock stuffs you.

You sit up without hesitation and begin to look around for a possible object to satisfy you... your mind is racing. You stare at the pillow that had been propping up your head and slowly remove it from its position.Your heads spinning thinking about the pleasure you're about to endure. You begin to kneel and straddle the pillow whilst positioning it correctly so it will be enough to stimulate your throbbing core. You pull your shorts and panties to the side slightly as you are too eager to take them off. You place your folds onto the pillow and begin to grind, you feel yourself growing wetter and your juices are quickly absorbed into the pillow, making the friction between your pussy and the pillow feel like heaven. "mm rafe" you whimper as you throw your head back and imagine Rafe underneath you. 

"mmm fuck rafe, you fuck me so good" you cry . "I know I do baby" 

You're startled. you quickly twist round towards the door, unstraddling the pillow.``What the fuck Rafe" you snap holding your hand close to your chest "you scared me..." said with slight embarrassment. "I didn't say stop, '' Rafes spits as he's leant against the door frame "Have you missed me that much? That you couldn't wait till daddy got home to be a slut?" Rafe walks over to the bed and towers over you. You're lost for words, you're frozen, he makes you so weak. "Answer me y/n!" He spits, grabbing your arm and pulling you to the edge of the bed, you gaze up at him and nod. "use your words pretty girl" he encourages..."yes i've missed you '' you say with slight hesitation. not because you're unsure you'd missed him, but because you're nervous of what comes next. Are you going to be punished for pleasuring yourself when he wasn't here or is he going to let you off...?

Rafe brings his hand up to your jaw and grasps it, just enough to make you wince slightly. '`yes what y/n?" he says with a slight impatient undertone, tilting your head up higher to make sure your eyes are definitely on his. "yes daddy...i've missed you ''. 

"My good girl" Rafe praises, making your heat grow even wetter. He loosens his grip and intertwined his fingers into your hair " why don't you show daddy how much you've missed me? Show me how you fucked the pillow, like a whore when I was away" Rafe suddenly grabs your hips and lifts you up before turning around and replacing your place on the edge of the bed, placing you on top of him. 

You're now straddling him. Rafes hands are at the back of him propping him up whilst his eyes wander over your body. "go on, show me, like a good little slut".

You look Rafe in the eyes and begin to hesitantly grind on his lap, you're slightly embarrassed, and unsure of what to do,but before you have another moment to think you feel a harsh pain seer through your face as your head whips to the left after Rafes palm leaves your face. "Fucking chop chop y/n! I gave you an opportunity for me to go easy on you but if youre gunna be a little bitch, you get fucking treat like one" Rafe spits, you wince in pain before rafes fist snakes around your neck "Works been rough today baby, I came home to see my girl could've even wait for me before pleasuring that pretty pussy?" he coos " You pleasured yourself in my home? on my bed? without me here?" he questions whilst tilting his head, his fist still gripped around your throat. "The least you can do is show daddy how much you missed him...So fucking show me you slut!" Rafes grip loosens as he uses his hand to slap your arse, Asif he was telling a horse to giddy up. You feel your pussy sticking to your panties as your folds overflow with juices. You lock eyes with rafe and begin to grind your hips back and forth on rafes growing bulge, aroused, but slightly scared to know what could come next if you don't abide . "Good girl" he spits, grabbing your hair and pulling your head back, before unbuckling his pants. you lift yourself up slightly as he lays back on the bed, he pulls his jeans and boxers down past his length. His cock springs up and he groans when it slaps on his stomach, causing the precum on his cock to leave a slight residue.

Rafe then sits back up and pulls your top down past your tits, revealing your hardened nipples. "Pull your panties to the side my sweet girl" as you do so rafes fingers trace your pussy and with no hesitation he puts 2 inside, causing your pussy to drip a little as he pushes the resting juices out of you. You begin moaning, grinding yourself on his fingers "r-rafe" you whimper. "That's it, make a mess for daddy" he states, whilst curling his fingers inside you.

Rafes lips meet yours, vigorously inviting his tongue into your mouth, he abides and follows it by biting on your bottom lip, with his fingers still inside you you both let out groans, as the kissing intensifies, becoming faster, sloppier. 

"fuck, c'mere" he demands and lays on his back once more, whilst spreading his legs. He pulls you so your hole is now lined up with his cock before he thrusts his hips up, "ahh shit" he groans as your entrance is stuffed with his throbbing cock, you're wet core once again making a mess, dripping down rafes dick as he pumps in and out of you. You sit ontop of him, a weak, whimpering mess as rafes fingers enter your mouth "open for me slut" he groans. Rafe begins to slow down and he removes his fingers from your mouth, saliva strings from your mouth as he pulls his fingers away. "mmmm,Now show me how you fucked that pillow baby girl. let daddy have a rest".

"yes daddy" you state as you begin to bounce yourself up and down, and rafe watches in awe as your tits bounce in sync. He throws his head back and arches his hips up. You then start to grind yourself, using your feet to stable you. Your head and hair bob up and down and the moans come out in sync with your movements. "ugh fuck y/n, i'm gonna have to pound this pretty pussy" Rafe snaps. He grabs the back of your head without warning ,slamming it in between his shoulder and neck, forcing your whole body down on top of him. He begins to upthrust, forcing his dick deep into your walls, hitting just the right spot. He pumps and pumps faster and faster, groaning with every out stroke. "stay just like that, dont move baby, just be daddy's little cum slut and let me use your holes how daddy likes,mmm fuck" he says whilst still forcing your head down with the palm of his hand and the other grips around the back of your waist.

Your body bobs up and down with rafes thrusts and shakes under Rafes' grip as it's about to be pushed to its limit. You can't help but let out a moan that almost could've been a scream and you feel your walls tighten around rafes girthy length, you feel your juices begin to gush out of your cunt and down rafes dick, stopping at the base of his cock and making your inner thighs sticky as he carries on pounding you "mmmm that's it baby, make a mess for me, you've taken this dick so well my good girl" Rafe praises, and It sends butterflies flying around your stomach.

As rafe begins to still pump in and out you feel his dick twitch inside you slightly, signalling he's close. "let daddy fill you up, Your mine, this pussys all mine" He groans before shooting his thick load inside your walls, you feel the warm liquid coat you and mix together with your juices and your pussy squelches with the last couple of thrusts that rafe pounds into you. 

"fuck baby" Rafe pulls your head up by your hair and forces you to look at him whilst his cock still rests inside you. You giggle slightly as you cant believe how amazing he makes you feel "thank you daddy" you say and rafe tries to hide a grin forming on his face... "you're so perfect" he whispers, meeting your eyes with his before forcing your head back down and wrapping his arms around your frame, engulfing you into a hug.

pls feel free to repost if you enjoyed 🥺!

[zepskies]

Green

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader, Ben and daughter!OC

Summary: Ben spends the day alone with his daughter, to varying degrees of success. When you get home, it prompts a serious conversation.

AN: Another one-shot for the BMD-verse, set sometime after "Until Morning" (you'll see). This can be read as standalone as well!

Word Count: 2,500 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Father and daughter fluff, followed by husband and wife spice.~

Read more of the BMD-verse! ⤵️

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

Father and daughter were glaring at one another, gazes locked.

Green against green.

“Young lady, I’m telling you right now. I’m not gonna tolerate any more of your little attitude,” said Ben. “If you want to try me, be my guest.”

He held the ravioli poised on a pink plastic spoon. His daughter Lila sat in her highchair in the kitchen, boldly refusing any more of her lunch.

Her stubborn face reminded him entirely too much of you. But he needed her to eat. He wouldn’t have it said when you came home that he couldn’t feed a damn two-year-old.

He huffed. “Work with me here. Just a couple more bites.”

Lila made a shrill sound of refusal when the spoon came near her face. He knew she could use a spoon just fine. She was being difficult on purpose.

To demonstrate her resolve, she slapped at the ravioli with a chubby little hand, and it ended up splashing back into the bowl. A bit of red sauce splattered onto Ben’s cheek, with a pinch of it hitting his eye.

He blinked in annoyance. “Delilah Marie, I swear to Christ—”

She’s just a baby, a voice that sounded a lot like you infiltrated his mind. It still didn’t take away his aggravation.

“No!” Lila insisted. It was her favorite word, right behind Bluey.

She then pushed the bowl right off the highchair. It spilled ravioli and pasta sauce all over the floor in spectacular fashion. Ben was sitting in his own chair by the dining table, where he moved his feet back at the last moment. She almost got his Italian loafers.

“You gotta be f…” It took every scrap of patience within him to hold his tongue…and breathe calmly through his nose. He didn’t want to reward this destructive, disrespectful behavior, but he also knew that he needed his daughter to eat.

“Want some applesauce?” he said, as a peace offering.

Lila’s face scrunched.

“No applesauce, huh?” Ben muttered. He glanced at the mess across the highchair and the formerly white tile on the floor. “Your mother’s gonna have a conniption.”

“Mommy?” Lila asked. “Mommy’s home?”

“No, she’s not here right now,” Ben replied. “She’ll be home later.”

Lila seemed to understand, because that’s when she got upset again. Her red-stained finger drew a shapeless form in the sauce as she pouted. At least she wasn’t crying.

Ben sighed, once again, and stroked her cheek with his thumb.

Fuck it.

“You want some ice cream?” he bribed.

Her sadness dissipated at the thought; she smiled brightly and nodded. “Yeah!”

“Yeah, I thought so,” he grumbled.

After a scoop of strawberry ice cream for each of them (she liked it because it was pink), Ben wrangled her up out of the highchair and declared, bath time.

He did fine with the bathing process. He’d helped you with this before, and so he knew what to do in order to wash the sauce off her face, hands, and even her hair. It was what came after the bath that remained a problem.

Lila was stubborn beyond belief, even before she could articulate what it was about the soft green onesie that she didn’t like. No, she wasn’t satisfied until Ben pulled out the yellow Starlight themed pajamas. Probably because they had “Auntie Annie’s” face all over them.

He rolled his eyes, but this wasn’t a hill he needed to die on. He dressed Lila and tried to tuck her into bed for her afternoon nap. The problem was, she refused to lie still in the crib.

Instead, she was bouncing on the balls of her feet, using the edge of the crib for balance. He’d be impressed, if she wasn’t trying to climb out and give him a small heart attack.

He grabbed her and gathered her against his chest. Despite the super strength you’d temporarily displayed off and on throughout your pregnancy, Lila’s powers were latent at the moment. Dr. Baker seemed to think Lila would start to display them once she got old enough. Like Ryan, who hadn’t started growing into his powers until around 10 years old.

So for now, Lila was a mostly normal two-year-old who could still get hurt.

Ben frowned. “This is the time you usually go down. Why do you have so much energy?”

She just giggled at him and put both hands on his face, over his eyes.

“Daddy, guess who?”

He sighed, but couldn’t help smiling. As usual, he indulged her.

“Could it be my baby girl?”

He waited until her hands came away from his eyes, and he opened them wide.

“There she is!”

She squealed and giggled and grabbed his hair when he kissed her cheek. In the comfort of his own home, he could afford to be this openly affectionate.

Aw shit, he thought, as something occured to him.

He finally realized why she was so fucking hyper. Maybe it had something to do with the giant scoop of ice cream she’d had for lunch.

Goddamn it. Ben sighed and unwrapped her arm from around his head.

“Okay, let’s watch some TV.”

Lila didn’t seem all that interested in watching anything, or even playing with her toys. She mainly wanted to jump on Ben’s stomach while he was trying to relax on the couch. He put on a football game you taped for him. Or recorded, as you'd said.

“All right, enough. Your old man’s trying to watch the game,” Ben said, bringing Lila down to sit in lap.

That lasted for about two seconds. Thereafter, she was climbing up his chest and trying to smother him with her little hands.

He took her hand from his nose so he could at least breathe in peace.

“Where’s Mommy?” Lila asked, as she sat on his shoulder and beat a little fist on the top of his head.

“She’s with your aunt,” Ben replied. “Well, not your real one, the fake one.”

Lila made a sound of confusion. Realizing that she didn’t know what the hell he meant, he rephrased.

“She’s with your Aunt Annie. They’ll be back soon,” he said.

He didn’t mind you wanting a day out to yourself. What he minded was the attitude you’d struck when he suggested dropping Lila off with Louisa, your actual sister.

“What, you can’t handle her alone for one day?” you’d asked.

His pride hadn’t allowed him to say no to that.

So here he was, with a wily toddler who was doing her damndest to suffocate him. Better attempts than this had failed, but it was still annoying while he was trying to watch the game.

Somehow, he managed to tune it out while he watched the ref make a bad call.

“What was that?! You gotta be kidding me!” Ben said, holding Lila to his chest even as he pointed and shouted at the TV. “Son of a bitch. What a pussy call that was.”

“Bish, bish, bish,” Lila said, making a game out of the word. It called Ben’s attention.

He forgot about the game for a moment when he looked down at her. His eyes widened a fraction, even as a smile pulled at his lips.

“What’d you just say?”

“Bishhhhhh,” Lila repeated. “Somvabishhhh.” Her lips squished like a fish. And then she giggled, like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.

“Aw, fuck,” Ben uttered.

And he pressed his lips together with ever widening eyes at what he’d just said.

Lila grinned. “Fack!”

“Uhh, no. No. Don’t say that,” he said, trying to sound stern. Inside, he was trying not to laugh. He didn't really give a shit what she said, but you were particular about the kid not inheriting his vocabulary.

In fact, he was pretty sure you were going to go nuclear for this one.

“Why?” Lila asked.

“Because it’s uh…a bad word,” Ben replied, even though he wanted to roll his eyes at himself. This was what he’d become. A suburban dad.

"And it's not ladylike," he added.

“Fackkkk,” Lila giggled some more.

Christ on a cross. Ben bit the inside of lip hard to stop himself from laughing.

“Whatever. Just don’t say it around your mom,” he relented. He brushed his fingers through her soft brown hair. She preened at the attention, like the little showboat she was.

“Daddyyyy…” Lila wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled as deeply into him as she could, like a koala clinging to a shaking branch.

Ben sighed and rubbed a hand up and down her back as he cradled her against him.

These were the moments he didn’t mind. In fact, these were the moments he did his best to remember. They helped block out the older, darker ones that this kid would never know.

Ben woke to the shutter of a camera going off.

He blinked his bleary eyes open to find you standing there with a highly amused smile on your face, and your phone poised in your hand.

He groaned, but he soon realized that Lila was sleeping in his arms, on his chest. You leaned down and rested a hand on her back. You also greeted him with a kiss to his temple.

“Long day?” you teased quietly.

Ben gave you a deadpan look, one that had you straining to taper down your giggles. Though he drew you closer by your hip and squeezed the soft flesh over your white sundress. He took you in with a lazy once-over.

You looked good. Sexy as hell, really. Your face was glowing and relaxed, and he liked the shade of red you’d done on your nails.

“You have a good time?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you replied, massaging his shoulder. Though you arched a brow. “There’s a catastrophe in the kitchen.”

Ben blinked.

Fuck. He forgot about that.

“Yep,” he said, giving you a teasing smirk of his own. “Right on time for you, baby.”

You chuckled, though your eyes narrowed in warning. “Yeah, right.”

You still helped him put Lila down in the nursery for the rest of her nap. She yawned and turned over onto her back. You pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, though you had to smile when it accidentally left the red mark of your lipstick behind.

You bit your lip and gently rubbed it off without waking her up. (An amazing damn feat, as far as you were concerned.)

Ben laid a heavy hand on your back, prompting you to straighten up and turn into his waiting embrace.

His lips curved as he looked down at you. “Hey.”

You laughed quietly. “Hey, yourself.”

Your hands glided up his chest, and further still to hold his face. You brought him down to kiss you, with your fingers slipping into his hair, and your nails dragging along his scalp. He hummed into your mouth.

“Miss me?” you teased.

Ben huffed. As usual though, his answer was in his actions. He held you close for a moment, just to feel you there.

Your arms slipped around his, clinging to his shoulders as you rested against him. This was your safe, comfortable place where you always felt at home.

But, you couldn’t help but break the spell.

“Come on. Clean up on aisle 12,” you quipped, reaching around to smack his ass.

Ben rolled his eyes, but when you pulled away from him, he followed you into the kitchen.

“You know, I had a lot going on. Your kid is a fucking menace,” he said. “Like a bull in a China shop.”

You scoffed. “She’s only my kid when she gives you a hard time. Where do you think she gets it from?”

“You,” he retorted.

You had to laugh at that one. It still didn’t get him out of helping you clean the kitchen from top to bottom.

After a long shower, waking an errant child from her nap, dinner, and a joint effort of getting Lila to sleep for the night, Ben joined you in bed wearing just his usual sweatpants.

You’d opted for some black satin, he noticed.

Good, he thought, for the night to come. You’d spent the whole day getting massaged and moisturized and whatever else women did on a day out.

When he rolled onto his side, you greeted him with a smile and a hand running up his arm, already pulling him toward you. His hand glided along your bare thigh as you hooked it over his hip.

“I need to tell you something, but you’ve gotta promise not to say anything to anyone,” you whispered in the small space between his face and yours, and you tapped his chin.

Ben raised a brow and squeezed your thigh. Whatever it was, couldn’t it wait until long after he’d undressed you?

“What?” he asked.

“Annie’s pregnant!” you said with a wide smile. “Six weeks. She just told me today.”

Ben blinked at that one. “Is it Hughie’s kid?”

“Wha…of course, it is!”

“Wow. Guess he had it in him after all,” Ben remarked. “Who woulda thought.”

You shook your head, but his grin made you laugh.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, through your remaining giggles, though you leaned forward and stole a kiss. It led Ben to want more, and more of you.

He started to ply you with slow, lazy kisses that grew deeper, becoming all-consuming as his tongue warred against yours. His hands dove under the satin covering your body, and his thumbs brushed the sides of your breasts.

“Maybe it’s time we go for number two,” he said.

You uttered another incredulous laugh, gripped a fist in his hair and tugged. “Excuse me?”

“You fucking heard me,” Ben said. He rolled you onto your back and pinned you there. “Ain’t no way we’re stopping at one. Lila needs a brother.”

“You can’t even handle one,” you teased. Your hands slid up his arms and then down his chest. “Baby, we can talk about having more kids, but—”

“And? We’re talking now,” he said. He dipped his head to start kissing a hot, wet line down your neck. It made your breath falter and your back start to arch. Your hips shifted against his, trying to find friction. You could feel his length hardening against your thigh.

“Ben,” you warned, and implored, but the graze of his teeth on your neck made you shudder.

Your grip on his arms tightened. “Please…”

“Please what?” he smirked against your skin. His hips rocked against your heated core.

This conversation was going into a no man’s land very fast.

You literally took matters into your own hands…by reaching down and grasping your husband’s cock through his sweatpants. You gave him a demanding squeeze.

His breath hitched. Ben paused, unlatching from your neck, and turning his lips toward your cheek.

“I’m listening,” he said, in a gritted voice. You smirked.

“We can, and we will talk about this,” you promised. “Just not when you’re about to be balls-deep inside me.”

You were back on birth control anyway (the pill this time).

Ben chuckled. His hand reached up and smoothed your hair away from your forehead.

“Fine,” he conceded. A smirk grew across his face. “But we can still practice.”

A giggle fell from your lips, just before he claimed them once again.

AN: A little callback to the BMD Epilogue at the end there. 😂

What did you think about the father/daughter time? And do you think Ben won against either of the ladies in his life? 🤣

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Coming up next, in a drama-filled episode, you and Ben do what you two do best in Calculated Risks:

Summary: You and Ben argue about your commitment to being a working mom. When a rogue supe gets loose at Supe Affairs, mayhem ensues, putting not only your life at risk, but your daughter’s as well.

▶️ Keep Reading: Calculated Risks

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[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Kinktober day 2 | Billy Loomis x Reader

Kinktober day 2: phone sex

Word count: 0.7k

Warnings: 18+, masturbating, dirty talk

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’Good night, dad,’’ you wished with a smile before you closed your bedroom door. 

You turned on your night lamp and drew back your comforter, getting ready for bed. The rain was pouring outside your window, making it difficult to see through the glass. You wrinkled your nose, knowing it’ll be that way for the rest of the week and that you and Tatum will have to reschedule your plans for tomorrow. 

Just as you were about to turn off the light and get in bed, the sudden shrill of the phone on your nightstand startled you. You picked up the receiver with a frown.  

‘’Hello?’’ you answered.

‘’Hey, baby,’’ the low tone of your boyfriend said on the other end.

‘’Billy?’’ You sat down on your bed, waiting for him to speak further, but there was only silence. ‘’Everything alright?’’ Late-night calls were unusual for him.

‘’Yeah, eh… What are you doing?’’ 

‘’Well, it’s 10pm, so I was about to go to bed.’’

‘’Are you wearing sexy pajamas?’’ he inquired, his tone suggestive.

Although you couldn’t see him, you knew he was smirking on the other end. The last time he showed up at your window, he caught you in a satin nightie and called it a ‘sexy pajama’ because he could see your nipples poking through the fabric. 

You bit your lip to stifle a smile at the memories, and sighed. ‘’My dad is home. And not sleeping. If you called me to jerk off to the sound of my voice, I’m gonna hang up—’’

‘’No. Wait!’’ Billy interjected before you hung up the phone. ‘’I…I miss you.’’

‘’I saw you six hours ago.’’ 

‘’So? I can’t miss you?’’ 

‘’I’m not saying that.’’ You reclined against your pillows, a playful tone in your voice as you continued talking. ‘’But is it me you’re missing, or what’s between my body? Because you never call past 8pm…unless you’re horny.’’ 

Billy laughed quietly in the receiver, shaking his head. You knew him too well. ‘’That’s a question I can’t answer.’’ 

‘’Horny dog.’’ 

‘’I can’t help it. I just think of you and my dick gets hard.’’ 

It was your turn to laugh. You covered your mouth, stifling your giggles so your dad wouldn’t hear you. 

‘’Are you hard right now?’’ you asked, surprising yourself.

‘’I thought you said no phone sex tonight?’’ 

You bit your lip, pulling your knees to your chest. ‘’A girl can’t change her mind?’’ 

There was a little bit of shuffling around and rustling on Billy’s side of the line, probably getting settled in his bed. Then he was back, his breathing heavier through the phone. 

‘’Are you jerking off?’’ 

His hand trailed down to his cock and pressed the heel of his palm down onto it. ‘’Not yet. Keep talking.’’ 

You did, fiddling with the phone cord as you whispered dirty things. It felt strange to do this while your dad was home. You usually waited for him to be asleep or at work to let your hands wander over your pajama shorts. But not tonight. 

‘’I wish it wasn’t pouring buckets right now so I could come over and get the real thing,’’ Billy said, cursing the shitty weather forecast. ‘’I really want to touch those pretty tits.’’  

 ‘’Just my tits?’’ 

‘’Nah. I wanna rub my cock over your sweet pussy, tease your clit with it until you’re a mess.’’ 

You slipped a hand down to rub yourself softly while he spoke, relieving the ache between your legs. It wasn’t as satisfying as when Billy did it, but you still whimpered into the receiver when your finger reached your clit.

‘’You touching yourself too?’’

‘’Mmh.’’ 

But you needed more. 

Holding the phone with your ear and shoulder, you glanced at your nightstand, searching for your hairbrush, but remembered you had left it in the bathroom after your shower. Fuck. Right when you needed it.

‘’Hairbrush?’’ Billy echoed, making you realize you had spoken those thoughts out loud. ‘’Why do you need a hairbrush?’’

Your face burned red. ‘’I use it to…you know. It reaches deeper.’’

Billy grunted, picturing you fucking yourself with your hairbrush. ‘’Fuck.’’ He took a breath, biting his lip as he swiped his thumb over his weeping tip. ‘’Give a guy a warning next time you say something like that. I almost spilled.’’ 

‘’I take it it’s not the time to tell you what I do with the shower-head?’’

—

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[andi-kook]

DEAD KIDS ✦ Chapter 2

SUMMARY: A group of university students kidnaps their rich batchmate for ransom. However, things take a darker turn when the new recruit grows a dangerous obsession with the captive and all hell breaks loose.

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

GENRE: Slow burn Yandere, Crime AU

WARNINGS: Not suitable for audiences below 18. Please do not engage with the story if you are underage. WATCH OUT FOR: dark and morally corrupt characters, foul language, mention of Catholicism, slut shaming and objectification of women, mention of inappropriate relationship between professor/student, mentions and depiction of “rape” and “rape fantasy” throughout the story, masturbation, threats, MC has an NSFW blog with hard kinks and fantasies, non consensual touching. Overall, this is a disturbing chapter – based on my standards – so if you are not comfortable with these topics, do not proceed. Inspired by the film, Dead Kids (2019).

TAGLIST: @hopeworldsupremacy @aliajomarie011 @ackercute @tatumrileyslover @ane102 @jjk174 @dontcallmeelle @merrygo1427 @taekritimin123 @r1r111 @gguksfilter @coralmusicblaze

If I didn’t tag you – either your blog doesn’t exist according to Tumblr or because you did not show your age in your blog. Thank you!

ANDI: I send my love to the beautiful souls who sent me asks about Dead Kids as well as these equally beautiful souls – @.taekritimin123 @.hellbornsworld @.tinytangerineangel @.namjesusdaughter – for commenting on Chapter 1. I cannot express just how much I appreciate your words. I would have tagged you directly, but I wasn’t sure if you would want that. But I wanted to show my appreciation.

WORD COUNT: 3K

“Why did you really want to take her?” Jungkook asks Namjoon as they sit and eat the ramen he cooked around the living area. Beside him, Yoongi and Hoseok are fast asleep, the latter clutching onto the former’s arm like it’s his plushie while the former has his head thrown against the headrest.

Namjoon, who is seated on the other makeshift sofa, gulps down the soup from his ramen before letting out a satisfied sigh and wipes his mouth with the back of his mouth. “How many times do we have to say that we kidnapped Y/N for ransom?”

“I’m not stupid, Namjoon,” Jungkook says. “We’re already tied to this shit until the ransom drop. The least you can do is be upfront on why you did this in the first place. I’m not taking a bullet for you or anyone.”

The buzz-cut haired man leans his back against the sofa, which unlike his premium one, is built from scratch by Jungkook using old wood and cases of beers around the warehouse. He gazes at Jungkook for a while, studying him while swimming in his own thoughts. The tattooed man wonders if Namjoon is contemplating telling him the truth. He wonders if the two sleeping men beside him also knew the truth.

They claim to have been friends since the fourth grade, but does time really make you know a person inside out?

“My father didn’t used to be the way he is now – corrupt. Growing up, I looked up to him because of how honest and upstanding he was as a cop. I knew he did some off-the-books shit, but he still had a moral compass, still had lines he didn’t cross. But then he met Y/N’s father, Kim Seokjin, when I was ten. Suddenly, everything changed,” Namjoon narrates, letting out a scoff as he shakes his head and rubs his palms on his baggy jeans. “He went from being a great husband and father to my mother and I to a complete asshole. We didn’t have religion but after meeting Kim Seokjin, we were suddenly Catholics, attending church with his family every Sunday. I was baptized and Kim Seokjin became my godfather. But the worst part was seeing him erase all the lines he drew and swore never to cross when he began to use his position as a detective and then eventually sergeant to now the chief of the entire police force in Seoul to protect Kim Seokjin and his criminal empire.”

Jungkook inhales deeply. “So, kidnapping Y/N is you taking on revenge against Kim Seokjin for corrupting your father? It is personal. It’s never about the money?”

“Of course, the money is important and integral to the plan. But yes, you are correct – I want to avenge my father from Kim Seokjin by hitting him where I know it will hurt the most: his only daughter, Y/N.”

“You promised that we are not going to hurt her,” Jungkook counters immediately.

Namjoon doesn’t say anything.

“Namjoon,” Jungkook clicks his tongue. “If you do that – what makes you different than Kim Seokjin?”

“Why are you so protective of her?” Namjoon asks pointedly. “What? Just because she gave you a boner, you’re suddenly fucking in love with her? Don’t think I didn’t notice. We all did. Yoongi is right – drop the morally upright act, Jeon. You’re just as demented as we are. The moment you agreed to this plan, you’re just as fucked up.”

The sudden call out makes Jungkook turn crimson and Namjoon smirks, placing his leg over the other. “Don’t worry – unlike you, I don’t judge people. To each our own. If shit like that turns you on, then that’s on you. Why don’t you take the opportunity to act on it?”

His eyes widen, shocked and disgusted. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Jungkook knows exactly what Namjoon is talking about, but he is completely aghast at the insinuation.

The de facto leader only widens his smirk, pulling out his packet of cigarettes and lighter from the front pocket of his large, oversized coat. “You know what I’m talking about, Jeon. A pretty naked girl tied to a chair in your warehouse – it’s perfectly normal to feel aroused by such sight. We won’t judge you if you just get it over and done with.”

“You’re more than fucked up,” Jungkook hisses, face flushed and veins popping out on his neck. “I’m not going to fucking touch her.”

Namjoon lights the cigarette in between his lips. Then, he inhales, and smoke leaves his lips as he replies, “Why not? Y/N is a dirty slut who fucks her married professor with kids her age after church and dinner every Sunday night and more – I bet you all my cut that she’s not going to resist you because she’s probably into fucking someone having their own way with her. No, in fact, I can tell you she’s going to enjoy it.”  

Jungkook feels hot. Images of your naked trembling body and whimpering pleas filling his mind and ears.

“She has a blog, you know? A secret blog where she writes these fantasies and kinks she has. Posts her nudes on there too. Do you wanna know what is one fantasy she keeps on writing about?”

“No, I really don’t,” Jungkook says through gritted teeth.

“It’s a rape fantasy, Jungkook. What a fucking dirty slut she is, right? I bet she’s fucking wet right now at the thought, at the anticipation that one of us or all of us are going to have our ways with her. I bet she’s aching to be touched. I bet she wants you to rape her, Jungkook. So, why not just do it?”

He stands up in a jolt, hitting his knee on the makeshift table he made from old tires and steel roof and stammering some excuse that he needs to go the bathroom or air – he can’t remember. Jungkook finds himself in his room, back pressed against the door. His shirt sticks to his skin because of the sweat, and he takes it off, leaving it discarded on the floor. Namjoon’s words mixed with the flashing images of your perky nipples, smooth skin, sound of your whimpers, pleas, your smell – it makes him hard. Harder than he’s ever been.

Before he knows it, Jungkook is unbuttoning his jeans, pulling it down along with his boxers, his erection springing free. He spits on his palm before he begins stroking his length, shuddering at the touch, making his mouth dry. He presses the back of his head against the door, eyes closed as he imagines you on your knees – like you were with the professor – those lips around his shaft, head bobbing as you suck him dry. He imagines hearing your moans, imagines his dick hitting the back of your throat as you go deeper and beg him to fuck your mouth like a whore. Jungkook’s stroking himself faster. He imagines hearing you gag as he fucks your mouth, not stopping even when you’re clearly suffocating. Then, he cums, toes curling and a guttural groan escaping his lips.

As he comes back from his high, Jungkook stares at the white sticky substance covering his hand and cock. He just jerked off to you, a girl they kidnapped, and he knows it won’t be the last time.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Yoongi hisses at him the moment he comes back from his room, showered and changed into more comfortable clothes.

Jungkook deliberately ignores the stare of Namjoon and flops on the seat beside Hoseok who is eating the remaining ramen. “Why the fuck do you care?”

“I’m going to punch this kid, I swear to God,” Yoongi grumbles, rolling his eyes. “We’re making the ransom call, you dumb fuck. Or rather, you are.”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “What? Why me?”

“Every one of us here has already encountered Y/N’s father at least once. The man remembers everyone he encounters. You’re the only exception,” Namjoon explains as he hands you a black phone. “It’s a burner phone, untraceable. I took it from my dad. And this is what you’re going to say – make sure you sound intimidating at least. Put it on speaker too.”

Namjoon places his phone on the makeshift table and Jungkook clicks his tongue. “The deal was you only use my warehouse. So far, you got me doing far more than that.”

“Do you want 25 million or not?” Yoongi asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Cos if you do, you better start calling Kim Seokjin.”

I’m going to punch you soon, Jungkook tells himself before he unlocks the phone and goes to the contact list where Kim Seokjin’s name is the only one listed. He takes a deep breath, going over the script on Namjoon’s phone before clicking on the contact and putting the call on speaker. The ringing sound echoes throughout the warehouse. The tension is palpable again, like it was back in the car earlier that night.

After a few more rings, Kim Seokjin’s voice fills the warehouse. It’s light but a hint of roughness and irritation is noticeable right away.

“Who is this?”

Jungkook licks his lips as he read the script in front of him. “We have your daughter. If you want to see her alive, prepare 100 million won and bring it to 2020 this Friday night. Otherwise, the next time you’ll see her is on the news, dead.”

Hoseok covers his mouth to keep himself from laughing while Yoongi stares hard at the phone. Namjoon, on the other hand, is relaxed on his seat, smoking.

“You sound young, boy,” Seokjin remarks. “You are not the first person to call me in the middle of the night asking for ransom. Do you really have any idea what you’re doing?”

Namjoon motions for him to repeat what he just said.

“If you want to see her alive, prepare 100 mill—,”

“Don’t you think I would be able to find my daughter faster than you could ever imagine? Do you know who you’re talking to?”

That triggers Jungkook. He’s been hearing that question – that discrimination his entire life and he’s sick of it. He’s fucking sick of it.

“I don’t give a fuck who you are. Either you give us 100 million in exchange for your whore of a daughter or I will personally make you watch as we do everything we want with her, make you watch as she begs you to make it stop, make you listen as she takes her last breath before I fucking slit her throat so deep her head nearly decapitates. You have until Friday night – and you better make sure the police don’t get involved. Don’t fucking ask me who the fuck you are again.”

He ends the call, gripping the phone tightly.

“What the fuck was that? Why the hell didn’t you stick to the script?! Are you trying to get us all a one way ticket to prison?!” Yoongi exclaims.

“Did you not hear what he’s saying? He caught on that we are fucking amateurs. I saved our asses – you should be fucking grateful,” Jungkook snaps, clenching his jaw. “If you didn’t want me to do the call, maybe the three of you should have done it yourselves. Fucking useless bastards.”

“Hey! What did you say?” Hoseok stands, pushing Jungkook by placing his hands on his chest. “Who are you calling useless, huh?”

“Who do you think?” He scoffs.

“Let’s fucking kill this son of a bitch, Hobi.”

“Gladly.”

“Enough,” Namjoon says sternly. “No one is going to kill anyone. Not amongst ourselves. What Jungkook did is right, Yoongi. Jungkook saved our asses. And you,” He turns to the long-haired man, glaring at him. “Mind your fucking tone and language with us. We’re not fucking useless. Remember that we recruited you. Not the other way around. If anyone should be grateful to someone, it’s you. We’re the reason you’ll get out of this shit hole.”

Nobody says a word.

“It’s getting late. Let’s gather here tomorrow after our classes. Just go about your usual days until the drop. Don’t be suspicious,” The de facto leader reminds. “Jungkook, keep an eye out, okay? Don’t forget to check in on our little friend from time to time. Make sure she’s still breathing.” He smirks as he pats his shoulder on his way out.

Yoongi and Hoseok follow suit. Once Jungkook hears Namjoon driving off his – rather his aunt’s – property, he resigns to the sofa behind him. He buries his face into his hands. Five days. You’ll be stuck with him at the warehouse for five fucking days. Granted, he has classes to attend to, so he won’t be at home all day, but he’s sure you won’t leave his mind wherever he goes.

The phone in his hand buzzes and he stares at the new notification on the screen – a text message from an unknown number. Jungkook unlocks the phone, goes to the messaging app, and clicks on the new text.

avirgins1ut on tumblr if you wanna read some things tonight

“Fuck you, Namjoon,” Jungkook mutters under his breath. However, when he goes to his room, grabs his shitty phone and opens his data – he installs the app despite knowing it will consume almost all the remaining gigabytes he has left.

Jungkook lies down on his bed and creates his profile. He doesn’t bother customizing it, going straight to your blog which is all black and hot pink. Instantly, he’s drawn to your profile picture – a simple mirror shot of you hiding your bare chest with your arms, head tilt slightly to the side and a black panty covering your cunt. He swallows the lump in his throat as he scrolls down, reading your pinned post:

“Hey. You can call me Angel. I’m 23 years old. This blog is filled with all my fantasies and kinks, sometimes my nudes. Feel free to send me yours too.

My kinks: cnc, free use, somnophilia, spit, slapping, marking, choking, daddy, and more.

My favorite fantasies: rape play, kidnapped, kept as sex slave, knife/gun play, forced gangbang, and more – why don’t you help me unlock those? DMs and asks open for all your threats and nudes.

Update: already got myself a master/daddy. Asks and messages are off.”

As he scrolls further down your blog, Jungkook doesn’t even realize he already has his hand wrapped around his dick as he masturbates to your the latest fantasy you wrote albeit months ago.

I can’t stop masturbating to this dark fantasy of mine – being raped by someone so brutally after they kidnap me. How they would keep me chained to the bed, always naked so they can easily rape me whenever and however they want. They would mock me whenever I would tell them to stop (“You shouldn’t have worn those skirts if you didn’t want to be raped. But you did. So, this isn’t rape. You were clearly asking for this like some depraved filthy bitch in heat. You’re fucking loving this, don’t you? Isn’t this what you want?”) and choke me as they pound into my wet and clenching pussy relentlessly. They would slap and spit on my face, abusing my cunt for hours until I’m full of theirs and their friends’ cum whom they called to let them have a taste of their new toy.

They would rape me day in and out until my body gets so used to it that I start asking for it – crying and begging to be fucked. “Shh, angel, daddy’s going to fuck you, okay? Don’t cry.” Slowly, I would forget all my autonomy and identity, wholly submitting myself to them because I was never my own in the first place – I was always theirs.

“Fuck, Y/N!” His entire body shakes as he cums again. Jungkook can’t stop – he wants to read more, see more as you posted a picture of your cum covered cunt at the end of the post and he imagines it’s his. But he gets a notification that he is out of data and Jungkook slams his phone on his bed, frustrated beyond bounds. He is still hard. He still wants to see more of you, read more of your fantasies.

Namjoon’s words echo in his mind. I bet she’s fucking wet right now at the thought, at the anticipation that one of us or all of us are going to have our ways with her. I bet she’s aching to be touched. I bet she wants you to rape her, Jungkook. So, why not just do it?”

And before he knows it – he is standing across from your limp body. You’re still unconscious – sack over your head, tied and bound on the metal chair. Jungkook walks towards you, gently touching your shoulders to see if you would react but you don’t. He bites his lower lip as his eyes fall on your naked chest. He reaches down to trace its curves before ultimately cupping one breast in hand, fondling, squeezing, twisting the nipple and pinching it. No response.

He begins to stroke himself as he continues to fondle your breasts. This is wrong, but why does it feel so good?

“F-Fucking slut, you’re asking for this,” Jungkook hisses through his teeth. He’s not going to last any longer – not when those perky nipples are so inviting and moments later, he cums all over tits. He’s panting, an exhilarating feeling he hasn’t felt before rising within him as he stares at your cum covered chest. He swallows, breathing heavily. Should he stop now or keep going? He doesn’t have data anymore, but he does have the real thing right in front of him. But you twitch and he jumps in surprise. Suddenly, the realization of his actions washes upon him. He feels a coil in his stomach. What has he done? He scrambles out of the room and dash straight to the bathroom where he extensively washes his hand and splashes cold water on his face. Then, he throws himself on his thin mattress, staring at the ceiling as he pants. Namjoon is right – he’s just as fucked up as they are.

CHAPTER 3 is coming soon.

TAGLIST: Wanna be part of Dead Kids’ taglist? Fill out this form and don’t forget to read the short note in order for me to tag you.

ANDI: I do not condone the behaviors exhibited in this story. The characters of Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi and Hoseok do not reflect who they are in real life. Fanfiction is just fanfiction. I have no schedule in writing – I write whenever I can. Please try to refrain from sending asks about updates (or at least be kind and polite about it) and let me know your feedbacks instead as they help a lot in motivation and inspiration! 🦉

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © ANDI-KOOK 2024. NO PART OF THIS STORY MAY BE REPRODUCED, TRANSLATED, MODIFIED, EDITED, REPOSTED AND THE LIKES WITHOUT THE AUTHOR’S PERMISSION.

[weirdworldofwinnie]

Heat of the Moment - One Night Passion

Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Reader NSFW 18+ only, One shot

Summary: You, a young psychology student and friend of Jean Tatlock, drink a little too much at a Communist gathering and find yourself falling for the esteemed Dr. Oppenheimer himself.

Word Count: 3,830

Warnings: Age gap, Cheating, Drunkenness, Loss of virginity, Unprotected sex, Smut with little plot

Disclaimer: this is ONLY intended to be based on Cillian Murphy's portrayal of Oppenheimer in the film and takes place before he marries Kitty, moves to Los Alamos, and the development of the Trinity Test bomb. NOT historically or scientifically accurate and not supposed to be in support of the real man's life actions at all. DNI if you are uncomfortable or take issue with this. It is purely for entertainment purposes, and it is fantasy/fiction!

The party was brimming with people, many being prominent due-payers of the Communist party and you met your friend Jean's eye across the room through the warm glow and haze of cigarettes. She was standing with a few men and one woman as you approached, noticing one well dressed man in particular who had his back to you and you felt your heart involuntarily stutter when he turned, his wide strikingly blue eyes on you intensely. You swallowed and then Jean introduced you and he simply nodded with an amicable smile before turning back to the others in their discussion huddle. You were at bit surprised at his dismissiveness, but didn't take it too personally as you drifted over to get a drink from the bar area. Holding a full cocktail glass, you casually observed the room, noticing at once how Dr. Oppenheimer had one of those magnetic personalities, as long as you were an intellectual (although he was a good enough speaker that he could capture the attention of the common man and likely even someone who knew absolutely nothing about physics), yet at the same time he tended to eclipse everyone else around him. They all seemed to orbit around him in a fashion and the longer the night drew on, you too found yourself drawn to his quiet charisma and you now were seeing what Jean saw in him. After an hour of drinking and mingling around in various conversations, you mustered up the nerve to approach his ring again and stood next to your friend with only a couple other people you didn't know chatting to him about his teaching at Berkeley. He glanced at you, his eyes lighting with more interest than the initial impression.

"Hello again, Miss Y/N. Excuse me," he told the others and moved, breaking their circle to focus on you alone.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked politely but without waiting for an answer, he went to personally make a martini himself and then pour it into a crystal glass, topping it with a slice of lime. You were empty handed at the moment, but neglected to tell him you'd already had two glasses of alcohol already. He gave the filled glass to you, his fingers brushing your wrist as he did and you thanked him as he leaned against the counter with his own drink that almost mirrored yours.

"It's my preferential recipe. Do you like it?" he asked curiously as you drank and decided it tasted a bit bitter and tangy, so you just raised your eyebrows and smiled assuredly with what you thought was a convincing nod, however, he must have seen otherwise.

"Too bitter, isn't it? I'm working on it; it would probably be better off with a dash of honey." He raised his glass and suddenly swapped it with yours, taking a sip and giving a satisfied expression.

"Hmm, right. I'll remedy it and I do apologize, I was actually just testing you there for your opinion. I'll have this one, you enjoy mine instead."

Unsure of whether you should be flattered or not, you drank his original and it was more appeasing of your sweet tooth, and then he proceeded to ask you about what you were currently studying and how long you knew Jean.

You gave him simple answers at first, feeling a bit shy and guarded compared to the spotlight he projected. He was far from being a loud, obnoxious man but he wasn't timid in the slightest when it came knowledge and he gave off an air of aloofness and professionalism that slowly broke the more you opened up about psychology and politics while making it clear to him you considered yourself a somewhat free spirit trying to make your way in a predominantly male run world. It was refreshing to you that he actually sincerely listened and wasn't too condescending like other men you had encountered in the field.

"Interesting. Have you considered applying that to a career for the future, I assume you are aiming for a psychology degree? Or is it a base point to advance you into becoming a psychiatrist? I'm sure you would be able use medicine in addition to your Freudian theories to mitigate such deep mental issues."

"Well, to tell you the truth, I'm only my second year in for psychology and I doubt my father will pay for addition schooling on top of that, but theoretically yes, I would love to. It's my passion and I have a prudent desire to assist others, not just study them under a detached microscopic lens, so to speak. I want to help people understand who they are and I myself want to understand why their brains work the way that they do. And if some disorders could be cured with certain drugs when all else fails, I would consider that a great accomplishment for humanitarian progress."

"That certainly is a valuable asset, to understand one's self, and especially in this rapidly complicated changing world and the more we have a stronger grasp of the human mind, the better off we will be I suppose. But remember, to know is to do. Theory will only take you so far."

You nodded, soaking that in and taking an ample sip from the drink, which was spurring you on in confidence, so you began to ramble on about the damaging psychological impacts of war before jumping to the effects of practical versus ideological Communism on modern society... at least until a young man interrupted, joining the two of you for a while and you let Oppenheimer divert his attention to him instead as they delved into more physics, which you honestly only had a basic understanding of. You drained down the rest of the martini, refilling it with a simple gin instead to sip more than you should and you definitely were feeling tipsy as the evening wore on to a close, hovering by Oppenheimer's side constantly and perhaps even unconsciously flirting while ignoring Jean's stares from several feet away. He wasn't paying attention at the moment, so you turned to set down your empty glass, but stumbled into a stool on the way. You spun around, feeling Dr. Oppenheimer place a hand on your shoulder, steadying you.

"Perhaps you should retire for the night," he advised softly, close to your ear.

"No… I'm fine," you insisted, the heat rising to your cheeks as he took your shaky hand and you caught Jean giving you one last glare before she disappeared into a murky corner of the room. You looked back to him staring at you concernedly and you blinked as he spoke quietly.

"There, now where are you staying? Surely it can't be far, I'll take you home."

"N-No, my apartment's the next town over and you don't have to, I-I think I'll be okay..." you stammered absurdly and wavered on your feet, not the least bit sober. He changed direction, pivoting to catch you under your arms, and propping you up straighter.

"I believe there is a spare bedroom upstairs, I'll take you to it." Without another word, he led you out of the room and tottering up creaky stairs that led to an upper floor. A few doors down, he took you into an empty small stuffy room with a single queen bed. As you collapsed onto it, sighing deeply after a hiccup, he brushed aside the beige curtains and opened the window, letting the cool night air flicker through.

"Stay here, I'll be right back with some water," he said and exited for a few minutes, coming back shortly with two glasses of water in his hands, one for himself that he took a careful gulp from and you found yourself wondering if his mouth was dry or if he could be nervous. You accepted your cold glass and drank, washing down the strong mix of cocktails and gin taste from your tongue.

"A bit better?" he asked kindly, getting a nod in return as he took the glass from you and set it down on the bedside table next to his own. You watched as he stepped over and stood in front of the window, rustling the curtains. He stayed still there for a while in a pondering pose, smoking and staring out at the street below, presumably lost in thought as he often was. You made a sort of groaning noise and he turned, hand on his hip with a raise of his eyebrows.

"Are you going to be sick? Should I call for someone?"

"No!" you gasped, sitting up with a swirl of the room as he strode over to the door. You did not need your parents to find out about this, especially your father.

"Wait - Please don't leave," you begged and he hesitantly came over, abandoning his cigarette in the ash tray on the nightstand next to the glasses of water and sitting down, getting a good look at your bloodshot eyes and tousled hair, a few strands obscuring your vision. He gently took his hand and wiped the hairs off to the side of your face, his touch on your flushed cheek sending shivers up your spine. He leaned back, putting his hands on his knees and you let out a shaky breath, trying to reorient.

"Have you ever drank before?" he inquired knowingly and you laughed weakly.

"Of course I have."

"I'm afraid that you overdid it this time or otherwise you must have a low tolerance. I only offered you one drink after all." He held up his right hand, splaying his fingers apart.

"How many do you see?" he asked seriously and you only giggled, pushing his hand down.

"Five, maybe six? I feel finnee."

He shook his head, maybe amused, and you had the impulse to climb onto his lap, so you began to slide over, swinging your legs and scooting halfway onto his lap, making him blink in surprise and gasp slightly.

"What are you…?"

You shushed him and wrapped your arms seductively around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder with your ruby lips inches from his neck. He put his hand on your back uneasily and you whispered in his ear.

"Could you carry me to the bathroom?"

"I can't - What? Why?"

"I might be sick."

He pushed away, letting you slip off his slender body and sitting back onto the sheets with a light laugh.

"I think you should lie down again," he said firmly and you flumped your head onto the pillows, your face burning as he stood up, moving around to tug your feet out of your heels and then his hand caught, wrapping his fingers around your ankle and sending a sensation up your legs. You tilted forward, reading his oddly grim expression.

"What is it?"

"I should leave," he murmured, tossing the shoes to the floor and removing his hand reluctantly.

"You don't have to," you told him earnestly, struggling to grasp for him as he stayed at the end of the bed.

"You aren't in a normal state of mind, I'm afraid."

"Are you?"

"Not as much as I should be," he admitted with a sigh, knowing it would be inappropriate to sleep with Jean's friend that he had just met and it was unknown if you had a boyfriend or not.

"Well, I doon't caaare…" you slurred out and he went to sit on the bed next to you as you shifted, sitting up with your elbows. Dr. Oppenheimer gazed fondly and then you both began to instinctively lean into each other, his nose meeting yours and he tilted his head, giving you the incentive to lock lips and slide your tongue into his mouth, letting him reciprocate slowly until both parties pulled away, you panting excitedly.

This seemed to cause a chain reaction that had him scooting over closely so he was fully on the bed, loping his arms around at your back and you tugged at his black tie, wrestling with undoing it as he let go of you to shrug off his suit jacket and discard it, his breathing quickening. He slipped off his shoes and socks, dropping them over the bed with a clump before his fingers found the zipper on the back of your dress and he fumbled, forcing it down and letting it pool off your body to the sheets, running a hand over your bare skin. Pausing slightly with his hands nearing to unfastening your bra, he murmured urgently.

"Don't tell Jean about this."

"But she's my friend," you protested loudly and he put a finger to your lips with a 'shh' that made your heart palpitate.

"I don't want her to find out the hard way."

"She… She'll figure it out, right?"

"She may, but I don't want it to come from you. This is all my doing, I'll take the responsibility for my own actions, do you understand?"

"Oh yes, I do Mister J. Robert 'Oppie' Oppenheimer… What's the J stand for anyway?"

"Nothing important," he replied shortly and you reached to feel his bottom lip, smiling in curiosity.

"C'mon, tell me. Is it John, James, Joe...?"

He shook his head, closing his eyes and you laughed, tracing his defined cheekbones with your fingers.

"It's Julius," he admitted almost sheepishly and you cocked your head, cupping his chin.

"As in Julius Caesar?"

He wet his lips, the corners of his mouth twitching in annoyed amusement.

"Et tu, Miss Y/N?" He paused for a fraction of a second with a light sigh.

"Just call me Robert," he then told you and leaned in to kiss you again, caressing the sides of your face as he did so and you eagerly wound your tongue with his, passionately pressing into his face. He smelled heady; smoky and of aftershave mixed with some brand of cologne, not overpowering but enough to be noticed and mildly sting your nostrils when you went to mouth his neck.

He moved to hover over you, hands grazing your nearly naked body. You let him take the bra and he flung it over his shoulder to the floor and all that was left was your panties. You unbuttoned his light blue dress shirt and opened it up, stroking the light hairs on his chest as he fingered your panties, the last barrier to whatever was going to come into effect. Robert ran a single finger up along your abdomen and past to one of your breasts, circling the nipple and it hardened substantially at the stimulation, which he transferred over to the other one, teasingly fingering back and forth before he sank his face into your chest, his tongue trailing where his fingers had been and you whined, letting the budding arousal take you higher. Then he retracted his mouth, moving back and going to himself, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, popping them open to reveal boxers concealing his burgeoning, bulging cock with tightening testicles. He wriggled out of his pants, kicking them away to hang off the side of the bed and he leaned over, coming to hover on top of you and you felt the pressing of the underwear fabric hiding his growing penis, and you felt inclined to slide your hands down to grope it, fingers yanking at the band around his waist.

"Go ahead, take it," he encouraged and you pulled the boxers down, seeing he was already dripping with precum and your breath came in pants, anxious to feel him, but the rational part of your alcohol tainted brain was reminding you that you'd never taken it this far with a man before. He shifted, supporting himself by pressing his palms to the cream colored plump pillow behind your head and immediately settling over to align. You felt him trying to enter, your clitoris throbbing with anticipation, but he wasn't successful at first of getting in.

"God, you are too tight," he muttered and you froze, staring up at him as Robert now realized the exact nature of you.

"First time ever?" he asked with trepidation and you nodded somewhat shamefully, embarrassed. It wasn't like you hadn't been with men before, but this was the first for it to get this far with full-on penetration. He closed his eyes for a second, controlling his patience for he wanted so desperately to come inside of you, but he had to ask.

"How old are you?"

"I - Is that important?"

"Just please tell me you're at least 21 and don't lie about it."

"Yes, I'm over 21."

"Alright. Well, there's a first time for everything. I'll go slower."

He shimmied down your naked body until his head was at your vagina and he put his hands up on your stomach, massaging vigorously into your skin, eliciting a tiny happy moan. You never felt this aroused around anyone before and just his hands on any part of your body was pleasurable, so you hoisted your hips up to meet his touch. But then he stopped abruptly, displaying two fingers and you squinted, body aching for more.

"How many I am holding up now?" he asked and a delirious giggle erupted from you.

"T-Two."

"Correct," he praised and promptly slid them up into your moist entry, causing you to cringe painfully and make a noise that made you clamp your own hand over your mouth, afraid the people downstairs might hear.

"How is that? Okay?" he asked in a hushed voice, anxious to go further and you just nodded, taking deep breaths.

You were now getting so wet and he started pumping his fingers in and out, eventually gaining traction with three in and you were whimpering and moaning, so close to orgasming when he pulled them all out and sat back on his haunches, his tongue flicking across his lips in a kind of hunger.

"Don't stop," you pleaded and Robert's eyes were dilated with desire as he came down, burrowing his head in-between your thighs, gripping your legs and kissing your pussy before lifting his head and looking at you squarely.

"Oh, I won't."

Without further ado, he repositioned himself over you and slowly pushed in, his cock breaking at your walls. You moaned, the pleasure outweighing the sharp pain and you clenched around his shaft, letting him penetrate as far as he could go into your core. Within moments, you let the orgasm ripple through you as he kept at it, coming to his own climax that wasn't going to be outside of you.

"Fuck, this feels good..." you breathed, rubbing your palms on Robert's short cut dark hair and he couldn't hold back any longer... exploding with his own euphoria, emitting a primal grunt that became a loud gasp. He pulled out wetly a few moments later, shuddering from the exertion and you reeled in what had just happened. You just had intercourse with this brilliant man… Oh God. And you didn't want it to stop; you weren't done yet.

You rolled over so you were on top of his body now and you carefully settled down so you were sitting on his upright swollen cock and the rubbing of it against your clit was making you close to orgasming for the second time.

"Stop," he gasped suddenly, trying to push you away.

"W-Why?"

"That's how she does it." He frowned, licking his lips and you didn't have to ask to know who he was talking about.

"Do you… like it?"

"Yes, of course, but-"

"Then I'm doing it, it feels good for me too," you told him with no arguments allowed and both of you began to rock back and forth, his still hardened dick pushing up against your vagina. He thrusted in again and you groaned, quivering.

"Oh, good girl," he whispered and you almost lost it at the tone of his slightly husky voice. You certainly never got that from the few men you'd courted briefly that had turned out to be too immature or pigheaded. This man actually felt like a real decent, more experienced man.

"Robert...!" you squealed, letting the boom of climaxing implode inside of you. You leaned back, letting him slide out and you gripped his slick dick mixed with fluids from both you and him, your nails very gently stroking it as he smiled, throwing his head back against the pillow in relaxation and pure joy.

You orgasmed a couple more times after that, each nearly as strong as the last which was new to you. What the hell was it about Robert that made your libido go off the charts?

Finally the two of you collapsed back together, staring up at the ceiling above in ecstasy. His chest was rising and falling in rhythm with yours and gradually your body cooled down, though your face still felt hot and a dull headache was coming on, but the night breeze from the window was making goosebumps pepper up on your skin.

"Cold?" Robert asked softly, noticing.

"Mm-hmm."

He sat up and grabbed his wrinkled boxers before deftly swinging a leg out of bed, getting up to the floor and yanking them back on. He also hastily snatched up his pants and slid back into them, not bothering to zip or buckle as he went over to the window and peered out once more at the street, then firmly shut it, closing the curtains securely and heading back over to the bed, lifting a corner of the sheets up and crawling in next to your bare body.

You scooted under the sheets and cuddled into his slim side, playfully fiddling with a button on his open shirt and letting him wrap an arm around you as you dozed off, listening to the faint ticking of his wristwatch, feeling utterly fucked out and exhausted. He fought his own fatigue, considering getting up and leaving you in case someone found the two of you up here, lest it be Jean, but you felt so cozy and close, he couldn't bear to disconnect and leave you alone for the night.

He wasn't entirely sure what would become of this drunken rendezvous encounter that you may not remember entirely, knowing very well it was likely he may never find himself loving you like this again. He loved Jean, he very much did, but he wondered if you would accept his flowers as easily as you had accepted his sex? Jean was most definitely a complicated, intelligent woman and he wasn't sure if you were in the same vein as her, but it wouldn't surprise him if you were. Was he drawn to any other type, really? Women were fascinating to explore, a close second to the hidden world of quantum physics.

Robert studied your pretty sleeping features in the dim lighting and then closed his eyes, letting the orange aura of the room drift the both of you away far off into nothingness…

(Thanks for reading and if you really liked this, please let me know! I'm rather new to Cillian Murphy and not well versed at all in writing one of his characters with smut, but there was just something I found so attractively compelling about him as Oppenheimer especially, so maybe this is a bit self-indulgent, but he's such a great actor that is also very sexy of course.❤️)

[deobienthusiast]

drunk on woo | ksw.

• pairing: kim sunwoo x gn!reader

• word count: 1k words

• genre: non idol!sunwoo, suggestive, there isn’t really fluff, but there also isn’t really angst. it’s just, suggestive

you meet the perfect stranger on accident in a club, and now you keep coming back for more as he leaves you feeling more intoxicated than alcohol ever could

warnings: mature themes, no actual description of a sex scene, but there is call backs to sex, im hesitant to say 16+, probably would say 18+ just to be safe. i wouldn’t consider this something a minor should probably interact with so mdni (pls), mentions of alcohol

notes: i welcome you to the most spicy thing ive written. not sure if ill get more spicy or if ill fizzle out but this has been on my mind for a while and i needed to put it into words. so enjoy. this wasn’t proofread btw i just sent it to sana (@sanaxo-o) so she could be surprised😏😉

the barstool you occupied pulsated from the loud music pumping through the speakers. the drink you were holding shook slightly, leaking onto the sides of the cup from the bartender overfilling it. you weren’t worried about that, though. you already had a few drinks, a form of liquid courage if you will. this wasn’t a regular scene for you. you weren’t the party and drinking type, however you were drawn here for one reason and one reason only. kim sunwoo.

you knew he frequented this club, and he came here on fridays. after meeting on accident due to your friends dragging you here out of pity, you two met. he was enamored with your quiet and shy demeanor. he thought you were breathtaking. and honestly, you thought the same thing about him. his hair was jet black, shiny, and curly. it fell in front of his dark, boba-like eyes and had a bounce to it every time he moved. what really drew you in were his lips. full and pink, constantly being pulled between his teeth and licked by his tongue. you two danced together the whole night before he inevitably dragged you away from your friends, taking you back to his place.

he showered you in lust-filled kisses and filthy words hidden inside the sweetness of his voice. his lips, the same ones that drew you in, brought you over the edge repeatedly. whether it was through his words, or the skilled way he buried himself between your legs. you were a goner before he was even inside of you. the night went by quickly. when he dropped you off at your friend’s place the next morning, you were left wanting more. you never got a phone number, and you were desperate. you slept with other men after him, but it wasn’t the same. it didn’t feel the same. you craved him in ways that other men or your own toys couldn’t satisfy.

hence how you ended up back in the club, this time accompanied by no one. you needed another night (or more) with sunwoo. you told yourself it would be just to get him out of your head. deep down, you knew that wasn’t the truth, but you would cross that bridge when you got there. the lights were low, black lights decorating the walls, casting a purple haze across the crowd of sweaty bodies lumped together on the dance floor.

despite the amount of people in the building, it wasn’t hard for you to find sunwoo. the way he moved through the crowd, the way he danced, the way he moved his hips, was all subjective to him. he stood out, in a good way that is. his hair still black and shiny, but the black light was picking up a light color, turning the strands a bright purple color.

he put in highlights.

you remembered the silky smoothness of his hair between your fingertips. the way his hair bunched up between your fingers as you pulled on it. he loved it. he told you to pull harder.

you grabbed the drink on the counter and downed it, pushing yourself off the barstool. the liquid courage had you feeling bold, but who knew how long it would last, especially around him. you made your way through the crowd, bumping into people who didn’t bother to say anything, because they were too busy dancing offbeat to the club music. he had his back to you, keeping his distance as he danced with a girl and her friends. when you were just a foot away from him, you tapped his shoulder. the tap was enough to alert sunwoo as he turned.

his eyes widened as a smirk made its way to his face. his full lips pulled up slightly revealing his pearly white teeth that glowed under the black lights. with how close you were now, you could see hints of blonde in his hair, the light color attracting the black light. sunwoo wasted no time in grabbing your waist with his large hands, the same way he did in his bed, holding your waist in place as he spoke above your high pitched whines. if you keep moving, i’ll punish you.

the words echoed in your head, making you shudder as he pulled you into him, turning you around just before you make contact so your back is pressed against him. he moved your hips in time with his, feeling him move one hand to completely circle your waist, while the other moved up to tilt your head to the side. the music made everything he did more intense, before you felt his plush lips plant themselves on the exposed skin of your neck. you gasped.

i missed you.

his words muffled against your neck, just barely being loud enough for you to hear. you swallowed hard, feeling your throat go dry. he continued peppering kisses on your neck before he found a particular spot he was fond of, sinking his teeth lightly into your skin. you whimpered at the feeling of his tongue gliding back and forth on the mark he just left on you.

i missed those pretty sounds. couldn’t stop thinking about how good you were, how sweet you tasted.

you felt yourself heat up at the thought of living rent free in the kim sunwoo’s mind. his thoughts poured out of him, letting you know he hadn’t taken anyone else since your night together, getting himself off to the thought of you and your pretty sounds as he put it. he was slowly driving you crazy, making you dizzy at the touch. he knew the effect he had on you. spinning in his arms, he lifted his head quickly before you pulled him into a deep, yet messy kiss. teeth clashing, tongues colliding, and groans being shared. all of it being laid out in the vicinity of the club without a care in the world other than getting lost in each other.

when he pulled away, you whimpered, feeling yourself rub your thighs together at how worked up you were. sunwoo chuckled as he laced his fingers with yours, pulling you through the crowded dance floor to the exit.

don’t worry baby. gonna take good care of you.

[lunarw0rks]

Through The Ashes | Chapter Three

Summary: You've been given an offer to join the 141 Task Force. Upon taking it, you find yourself ensnared with the mysterious masked man who won't take his eyes off you.

Warning(s): explicit content (18+), p in v sex, unprotected sex, no aftercare/no comfort

A/N: This is my first time writing smut, so I hope it's decent. There will probably be more in this fic later on... | Word Count: 2.4k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ prev. chapter | next chapter // requests | ao3 | playlist

The Point Of No Return

The look of disappointment written on Price’s face drew you in.

“It’s been silent for two days. Nothing on El Sin Nombre.” He was like a ticking bomb, ready to explode and demolish anything in his path. “Keep working at this. Find out anything you can, I want answers.”

You’d gotten used to the action-packed days, wake-up calls in the middle of the night when there’s new information. But to suddenly hear nothing on the person you’ve been tailing for months? Strange.

In a way you missed the chaos; twiddling your thumbs was going to be the death of you.

Perhaps you were right, and the tunnels really were a dead end or a distraction in finding El Sin Nombre.

“We sit around here and do nothing, while he’s still out there?” Ghost spoke, which was nearly an irritated snarl. Price replied by pressing his lips into a line.

Ghost was a man always ready for action, and when he didn’t get it, it boiled inside him.

—

Part of you felt guilty for taking advantage of the radio silence. The enemy could be planning something catastrophic, already fifty steps ahead of where your team will be when the intel hits your desks.

You couldn’t pass up the feeling of relaxation, however. No bullets whizzing past you, no drowning in tunnels, no wondering if you were going to be the next dead soldier.

Soap’s voice reverted your attention. “Enjoying the free time?”

“As much as I can… How could there be no new information? I have a bad feeling about this.” You speak, taking your eyes off the paperwork in your lap. Surely he understands. Although he usually keeps a more casual demeanor, you can tell he has the same concerns.

“Nothing we can do right now. Better to wait and be prepared.” Soap retorts as he puts a hand on the back of the chair beside you. He was right. Why exhaust yourself and become a weakness for the enemy to take advantage of?

—

After an extended period of mundane papers, you felt your head begin to swell. You need a distraction to keep yourself busy. You head to the shooting range and decide to practice your accuracy. You snag a rifle off the wall it's mounted on and load it, lining yourself up with the target at the end of the lane. You fire off a few bullets, mainly focusing on your reloading speed between shots.

“At least your shooting is better than your punching.”

You turn to Ghost and fiddle with the rifle in your grip, giving him a sarcastic nod.

“I suppose you’re right about that.” He returns his usual detached gaze in response. “But you’ve gotta have a weakness somewhere buried beneath all that brawn, L.T.”

You could swear he smirked under his mask. He might’ve been able to conceal most of his body language, but the look in his eyes was something that rarely lied.

“We all have weaknesses, some of us just need to hide them better.” He seizes a step forward and grabs a sniper rifle off the wall, placing himself in the shooting lane beside you.

You purse your lips and turn back to your target and line up your sights, preparing to squeeze the trigger. You knew he was right. Someone wasn’t always going to be there to save you in the thick of it. It would have to be you.

The following shot bounced off the walls with a sharp crack. You hit the mark in the middle, feeling satisfied with yourself. He glinted at it briefly before he proceeded to snipe the moving targets, a bullet going through the head of most of them.

It was impressive the way it was almost second nature to him. How deadly he truly was in the field. In terms of work, he’s the best ally to have because he won’t let you die, but on the other hand, he’s withdrawn and won’t form connections with anyone around him. Why does he keep saving you? Why doesn’t he give to you the harsh reality check he gives to the others who make too many mistakes?

You had a sense that figuring him out was a can of worms you didn’t want to open anytime soon.

You made sure the rifle you were practicing with was clean, then placed it back on the wall, leaving Ghost to continue taking his feelings out on the targets.

—

As the hot water ran down your spine, you leaned your head back in relief. The steam of the shower relaxed muscles you didn’t realize had been tense.

The only part of you that wouldn’t let lose was your head. Specifically, the thoughts inside them. Why did you gawp at him like that in the kitchen? Thoughts like that hadn’t crossed you up until now. His appearance was striking to you, and the way he stared made it even worse. Not even a glimpse of his true features, and you’re a puddle at his feet.

Your fingers wrapped around the cold metal faucet and shut the water off abruptly.

Reflection about your feelings wasn’t getting you anywhere. It was not the time either, you were here to work with a Task Force. You weren’t going to jeopardize that with just anything - especially a hardheaded, unattainable colleague.

Since Price eagerly wanted new intel on El Sin Nombre, you had no plans to go anywhere. You didn’t know how to tell him there was quite literally nothing new. The pipeline had gone dead - all you could do was wait for the next move.

You slipped on your casual uniform and proceeded down the hall. When you passed the window framing the yard, you saw Ghost sitting outside. He looked deep in thought as if the weight of the world was straining him, even more than usual. You opened the back door and peeked your head through, giving a concerned look.

“Everything alright?” You weren’t sure how else to approach the conversation.

Formal? Casual? Either way, it was like approaching a burning building that was ready to collapse. Although, it wasn’t because he was unpredictable. It was the opposite problem. He always remained stoic and untouchable.

“I’m fine,” he utters, holding a cigarette between his fingers. “Just get back to work, Sergeant.”

He wasn’t going to get away with that today. You can’t be expected to trust someone with your life without knowing the human behind the disguise of a killing machine.

You approached the bench he was sitting on and sat next to him. “I’m not going to pretend to understand what’s going through your head, because I don’t. But whatever it is…”

He spits back instantly, “None of your concern. Go back to work.” His tone is harsher, but you can tell he’s trying not to let his voice carry too loudly.

You gave a hefty sigh in response. You knew what to expect from him, but it still stung.

You shared a glance with each other briefly as he tosses the cigarette onto the pavement and snuffs it with his boot heel. You take that as your cue to walk back inside and leave him to brood. Perhaps some things, or some people, should remain untouched.

You walked into your dorm and opened the laptop sitting on your desk. He was right, you should just get back to work. After all, you had some files that still needed to be reviewed. You clicked on the first one and began typing away at your notes.

When you adjusted the angle of your screen further back, you spotted a figure in the reflection of it, and it was standing in the doorway.

You jerked around, seeing Ghost standing there for God knows how long. 

“Ghost…” You said under your breath. You tightened your brows when he didn’t respond. Something about it felt uneasy, like maybe you pushed him too far earlier. “If I pushed things too far earlier, I’m sorry.” You stood up from the chair, keeping an apologetic look as his eyes burned into yours.

He stepped closer.

“I didn’t mean to be a pain. It wasn’t my intent-” 

He grabbed the sides of your face and pulled the bottom of his balaclava up to his nose. Before you could even try to think, he’s initiated an impatient and heated kiss.

At first, your hands were frozen in place at your sides, but you couldn’t help yourself. They were soon resting on his waist.

There was no time for questions, and he wasn’t showing any signs of doubt.

You stumbled backward as the back of your knees hit the bed behind you. You felt a warmth wash over you as he climbed on top of you, forcing you to lay with your legs off the side of the bed - and his body in between them.

He reached for your belt and unbuckled it without even giving it a glance, only breaking the kiss when you both needed air. Your lips rested against his as you exchanged breaths into each other’s mouths, eyeing one another as you did so.

His fingers wrapped around the waistband of your cargo pants and yanked them down, leaving you in your t-shirt and underwear. You felt a rush of heat to your cheeks as you met his eyes again. The moonlight shining through the window illuminated his saliva-coated lips and the five-o-clock shadow that had begun to show itself.

He had boxed you in with his frame, and the hands roaming all over your body made him impossible to resist. It was too late to ask why any of this was happening, you were already in it too deep. He rolled your panties off and tossed them aside, running his thumb over your hips afterward. 

You felt a tingle whenever his hand left an area of your skin, it getting stronger as he went lower and lower.

You murmured a plead as he hushedly unbuckled his belt. He snakes his hand in between your thighs and brushes his fingers over your folds, finding your sensitive bud. His eyes had a look of amusement buried in them as he examined your reactions to his touch. His calloused fingertips gave friction against the slick already pooling around your entrance. 

He didn’t give you long to get used to his fingers before he was sliding his boxers down to his mid-thigh and guided his cock toward your moistened entrance, rubbing the seeping tip of it in a circle. You felt yourself shutter at the feeling of his manhood teasing you, wanting more of him. 

It was so wrong to feel this way about a superior, but his very skin grazing against yours made you drip in arousal for him.

He lifted his shirt up and put the fabric in between his teeth to keep it from blocking his view of your core. Your eyes wandered toward the bandage still wrapped around his torso - the one you put there.

“Wait,” you said in between gasps, halting his next move. “What about your side… your arm… won’t it hurt you?”

“It’s nothing.” His tone dripped with arrogance as he replied, pushing himself deep inside you while his thundering tone filled your ears. The natural deep octave of his voice had formed goosebumps all over your body.

You choked at the sensation of him filling you up with ease, sending a shock of desire up and down your spine. The cockiness made you ache for him more. The way he continued fucking you without the injuries he sustained holding him back.

You spread your legs wider, splitting yourself on his cock, letting him go as deep as he possibly could. He suppressed his grunts well, except for a few that slipped out when you dug your nails into his shoulder blades.

Your mouth hung open slightly as the pleasure began to form in your core, building with each thrust he gave you. He noticed you becoming weaker underneath him like you couldn’t take much more of this before you fell apart.

He looked as if he was approaching his climax before you. Even when he tried to hide it, his breaths formed more into shutters, and his pace quicked and got more sloppy. He gripped your thighs, making them stay in place against the sheets.

“Shit…” you cooed, feeling completely at his disposal.

He still hadn’t uttered an entire word this whole time, seeming to be completely focused on the sensation of being inside you. Your clothed nipples brushed along his chest repeatedly, putting you on the brink of overstimulation.

His eyes fluttered open and closed a few times as he pulled out of you, daring you to whimper from how sensitive you were with the absence of him crammed into you. You figured he wasn’t going to risk any accidents during a sloppy hookup, so you understood. In fact, you would be lying if the sight of him finishing himself with his hand didn’t make you want him more.

He ran his hand up and down his own manhood, still having the lubrication of your own wetness to help guide his fingers from tip to base. He quicked the movement of his hand, taking only seconds before he dissolved into his own pleasure, strewing his cum all over your stomach, some even ending up on the t-shirt you still had on.

You expected him to lean back in, to satisfy you with his hands or his mouth, but he didn’t. He pulled the balaclava back over his chin and pulled up his bottoms, leaving you a wet, sensitive mess.

You sat up, propping yourself on your forearm. “Did I do something?” You asked, knitting your brows together. This wasn’t some power play, he was quite literally leaving you high and dry.

He adverted your gaze as he readjusted his bottoms and lazily looped his belt before he trudged out of your dorm, closing the door behind him in haste.

You looked down at your nude bottom half, the cum on your stomach and shirt. You scoffed and ripped the shirt off your body, instantly finding yourself a clean one from your dresser. How could he do this to you? Quite literally leave you in his mess without saying a word?

You slid off the mattress and plodded into your bathroom, feeling ashamed of what you saw in the mirror. You wet a rag and cleaned off the wetness of your vagina before tossing it in the hamper, as well as the underwear he tore off of you.

In the heat of the moment; you wanted this, he wanted you.

This didn’t make any sense. He had to be playing some sort of game… or worse, just using you for his own satisfaction. 

Either way, you weren’t going to let him walk away from this.

This wasn’t over.

TAGLIST: @neoarchipelago @ghostlythots

[mabelstone]

can you write smut where reader distracts matt and gets him worked up while he’s on an online interview and he ties up and punishes the reader?

mabey is here to deliver <3

Payback

CW: 18+, dacryphilia (arousal by tears), bondage i guess?, rough sex

word count: 2055 (sorry!)

"Well, yeah!" You heard Matt laughing in his office through the gap in the door. "And that's the part nobody thinks about!" Hearing him genuinely laugh made your heart happy. You recalled him telling you about an online interview he had today, so that explains all the South Park talk. You decided to finish folding the washing while listening in on his interview. It was always a trip for you when you remembered just how famous he was.

You continued to eavesdrop, listening to the interviewer ask the same old boring questions they always did.

"So, how did South Park come about?"

"Would you ever do a sequel to Team America?"

"Blah blah blah... BASEketball?"

You chuckled to yourself, seeing right through his nice guy act, prepared for him to complain to you the minute the interview was over. Then it caught your eye. The tiny but powerful phone-controlled vibrator he used on you at dinner last week. You pondered for a moment before shooting him a text.

hey, remember when u made me cum in front of all your employees last week

he replied almost instantly. Luckily, Trey was in the call and leading the conversation, so Matt could get away with this for now.

Not now doll x

yes now. move the camera away from the door

You heard him clear his throat, subtly turning his computer away from the door. You took the opportunity to slip in, crawling over to him on your hands and knees completely naked. He shot you a warning glance before returning his eyes to his screen, forcing out a well timed laugh. You situated yourself between his legs, unzipping his jeans as quietly as possible, watching the way his jaw clenched when you gently ran your fingers across his bulge.

For context, you, Matt, Trey, nearly all of the South Park Studios staff, and a large number of Comedy Central higher up's were out for a celebratory dinner. Of course, what nobody at that dinner knew was that Matt was a bit of a masochist, and in turn, it was safe to assume you were too. He loved to fuck with you in public, especially since he'd recently bought a bunch of phone controlled sex toys. As there were so many people at the table, he could torture you with sweet vibrations and fly completely under the radar. No one even noticed the way you were squirming in your seat, or the way you had to put all of your focus into your breathing. Nobody besides Trey of course, who just had to tell a few of their friends... Who then told a few of their friends. Before you knew it, half the table was watching you play off an orgasm while Matt acted oblivious to the situation. He played it off so well, nobody would've ever known that your nails were digging so deep in his thigh, you nearly drew blood.

You raised your open mouth to his clothed cock, breathing warmth onto the head, instantly excited by the way his brows furrowed in attempt to focus on anything but you. He reached his hand out to push your head away, and you could practically hear the blood rush to his cock when you took two of his fingers into your mouth. Satisfied with the cough he faked to mask his unsteady breathing, you hooked your fingers into his waistband and watched his dick spring out before you. Eyes hooded and hungry, you wrapped your hand around him and started working his length, thumb flitting over his slit to use his precum as lube. Though he was 'laughing' along with the other guys in the interview, you could see his nostrils flaring slightly, and feel his hand impatiently urging your lips toward his pulsating head.

You obviously understood, lips immediately wrapping around his length, taking him all the way into your mouth at an unrelenting pace. You loved watching him pretend to be unfazed around others; meanwhile, his fingers had a vice grip on your hair, pushing you impossibly further down until your nose connected with the small tuft of curly hair below his navel. You snaked a hand down to massage his balls, eyes carefully trained on his movements. He let out a big breath and played it off as a yawn, yet you watched his toes curl against the carpet.

You realised this wasn't necessarily payback, but rather an exhilarating boost for his secret sadistic persona. You decided this was going to go your way instead. You began making obscene and obnoxiously wet sucking sounds around him as if you were in a porno, loud enough that no doubt, all of his fans could hear. His eyes shot open, and he slammed his laptop shut.

"What the fuck was that, Y/N?" He growled angrily, ripping you up to your feet by your hair. His eyes were angry, and you couldn't help but chuckle to yourself. "It's not funny at all. You're gonna get me in trouble."

"Hey, it's fair game. I'm just getting you back for last week's dinner." You threw your hands up in self defence, smile faltering slightly when he grabbed your wrist tight and dragged you into your bedroom.

"On the bed, on your back." He commanded, but of course you were in the mood to stir the pot, so you just stared back dumbly. He sighed in annoyance, roughly grabbing you by your arms and forcing you back onto the bed. Excitement rose in your chest as you realised what was coming. If you pushed him hard enough, he'd often punish you for whatever you did. You had a safe word, not that you ever used it. You both loved pushing each others boundaries, seeing who would break first, who was willing to cross a line. For the two of you, the line was near impossible to breach, meaning he'd forgive you for this as long as he could watch you cry an apology.

Incredibly turned on by this side of Matt, you decided to oblige, laying in the centre of the bed with your arms and legs extended for him. You knew where this was going. He huffed under his breath at the desperate sight of you. Breath already laboured in excitement, twitching against the constraints he tied to you. You giggled at the sight of him, annoyed, flustered, and incredibly horny.

"Why are you laughing? Look at you," he taunted, scoffing at the state of you as he rummaged through a drawer of toys you'd bought together over the years. A grin stretched across his lips as he found what he was looking for; a black ball gag attached to leather straps that hugged two tacky metal hearts. You writhed against the constraints, feeling arousal pool between your thighs. You whimpered as he approached, making his way beside the bed. You went to say something to set him off, but were instantly cut off with rough fingers gripping your jaw.

"Open," he commanded flatly, shoving the ball gag in with such force, your eyes widened and a surprised moan was ripped from deep inside your chest. He moved down to remove the restraints from your legs, rubbing your already red ankles with a faux pout, teasing, "I know, baby, I know." You whimpered in a mix of arousal and anticipation, unsure of what he was going to do to you next. He pushed your legs up to your chest by your ankles, licking a flat stripe up your slit, causing your legs to jerk. He adjusted himself so he was holding both of your ankles in one of his large hands; the pain of your ankle bones rubbing together causing you to wince. Matt didn't care. He just used his free hand to roughly squeeze your breast, his warm fingers digging painfully deep into the soft flesh. He teased your clit with the tiniest, most underwhelming licks imaginable, his tongue barely making contact with the sensitive bud. You impatiently jerked your hips as best you could with his strong grip on you. His nose brushed your clit so deliciously, and it were times like this that you truly believed he was given that nose for a reason. However, this caused him to moving away from your aching heat, also releasing your ankles in the process. You whimpered at the lack of contact.

"You wanna get fucked that bad, huh?" He taunted, gripping your hips tight enough to leave fingertip shaped bruises. "So desperate... So needy."

Your wide eyes followed his every move, watching him climb off the bed to strip his clothes, before crawling back between your legs. Your breathing hitched under the gag as you felt his slender fingers collecting your slick, coating his cock with your arousal before lining himself up with your entrance. Even after all this time, you still needed his fingers to stretch you before you had sex. Not that he was astronomically big, no. Just... painfully, painfully thick. Thanks to the little stunt you pulled, he was ramming into you with no warning.

You practically screamed, eyes screwed shut, teeth digging into the gag that muffled every sound you made. "Fuuuuuck," Matt let out a low groan that sounded so pretty, your stomach to flipped. He continued fucking you as if you were his personal toy, your legs up over his shoulders at this point. Sounds of your muffled moans, Matt's laboured breathing, and wet squelching accompanied by the clap of skin on skin echoed through the room in an orchestra of pleasure. He raised a hand, brazenly bringing it down to collide with your ass with a loud smack. Tears of pleasure and pain formed at your waterline as your eyes rolled back, Matt not once slowing his pace. You could feel him hitting that dizzying spot inside you repeatedly with so much force, you were sure he'd bust a hole in your cervix. Your wrists were tugging against the restraints tied to your bedposts, your head rhythmically hitting the headboard. Tears began to stream down your face, your cries muffled by the ball gag, the only noises coming from you sounded pathetic and strangled.

He finally halted his pace, briefly breaking out of his sadistic demeanour to pull the gag out of your mouth. "Do you want me to stop?" He asked, genuinely concerned.

To which you replied in the whiniest, most desperate tone ever, with tears continuing to stream down your cheeks, "I swear to god, Matthew, if you stop I will fucking leave you."

The next thing you knew, the gag was back in your mouth and he was fucking you harder than he had ever fucked anyone. You continued to sob, your tears rolling down your cheeks, drenching your hair and the pillow beneath you. Matt swiped a tear away with his thumb, sucking the salty liquid pleasure from it with a grin. His other hand was still firmly gripping your hip, guiding you up and down his length.

You couldn't even form words, let alone sounds at this point. You were so deep in pleasure that your jaw slackened around the gag, eyes rolling to the back of your head completely, legs spasming around him as you experienced the most intense orgasm you'd ever had. Your voice came back just as you reached your high, chanting his name like a mantra as he removed the gag from your mouth.

Whiney, fucked out cries of "oh, Matt! Matt, Matt, fuck! You feel so gooood." He watched as tears continued to stream down your face, never having seen you in this much pleasure before. His orgasm seemed to sneak up on him too, abruptly painting the inside of your walls with thick, hot ribbons of lust. He slowly pulled out, resting his sweaty forehead against yours, your hearts bashing against each of your ribcages in unison.

"Baby?" You began breathlessly, receiving a half-assed hum in response from an exhausted Matt. "Can you, uh... untie me?"

3 New Messages From: Trey Parker

You two are unbelievable dude...

Just because you left the room doesn't mean we couldn't hear you in the call

How the fuck am I supposed to explain this to Anne??

Guess he didn't shut the laptop properly.... You're gonna get it for that.

[kitmoas]

and there we offer dove to flame

Summary: Family, no matter how you get them, is the only thing you have at the end of the day

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: about 4.3k

Warnings: Stepmom!Wanda, Dark fic (allusions to murder, witch/dark magic, dark deity), Cult vibes, dub con/dub non con, blood mention (vague blood consumption), strap on use (r receiving), breeding kink, stomach bulge, mommy/daddy kink, bit of degrading and overall just smut

*As usual let me know if I missed anything important*

A/N: Hi! So for all cult vibe stuff, I'm going to leave the translations at the bottom of the fic! numbered just like footnotes :)

***Minors DNI*** ***18+***

Main Master list // Kitmoas | Occult

A heavy sigh leaves your lips as you lean against the counter, the rambunctious laughter from the living room echoes throughout the normally quiet house. Ever since your father remarried, his new wife would always bring home friends after her nights out partying. Their relationship was confusing to say the least; the woman was an extrovert who never liked being home while your dad was anything but a homebody who barely even spoke to the rest of the family. You couldn’t tell if the two were actually in love or if this was all just your father trying to get over your mom’s death but either way you found the entire situation exhausting.

You couldn’t lie that Wanda was one of the most fun people you ever got to be around, and it sometimes made you feel like instead of a stepmom you just got a new friend. She was much younger than your father, but still at least ten years older than you. The two of you spent most of your time together watching movies and baking in the kitchen. A nice enough lady, but definitely not the type you ever saw your father marrying. 

Maybe you just had a deep resentment towards him moving on or exhaustion settling in from how busy the house was now but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something seemed off about your step mother. It was something you kept to yourself, refusing to act like an angry teenager while you were a senior in college, but you weren’t ever going to let yourself feel completely at ease around Wanda until you were satisfied. Instead you let yourself enjoy your time both with your father and his wife, along with whatever new people came into the house, coming to terms that one day you would learn to be as happy as he was.  

Starting the walk towards your room, you catch a glimpse of Wanda and her best friend–Natasha. Leaning against a pillar, you stop to watch the two giggle like school girls on the couch as they sip wine. The ginger was intriguing, something about her always drew you near. She was over at the house a lot, even when your step mother wasn’t home. It allowed the two of you to become friends, talking about different things and later finding out that you both enjoy dance and sports. It was a bit strange to see someone her age want to hang out with a person barely in their twenties, but you wouldn’t complain. 

For a moment you almost turn around and go to hang out with the two, attempting to ignore your gut feeling that something is off with them because you just want to be friends with them. The exhaustion makes your muscles sore and your brain slow so you instead just drag yourself up the stairs. It feels like it takes forever to get ready for bed, even with you skipping half of your normal routine. You pass your father’s room, door cracked as always and you peek in. He’s sound asleep, but the loud muffled conversation makes the empty side of the bed even more obvious. 

Your soft cotton sheets are a welcome coolness as you finally settle into bed, your phone dim as you languidly scroll through tiktok. Eyes fluttering shut you’re glad as your phone slips from your grip that you had already plugged it in for the night. Wiggling deeper into your cocoon of blankets, you can feel sleep dragging you under. 

Consciousness hits you before you are able to open your eyes, but the feeling of arousal lays deep in your bones. Shivers from the air circulating the room fights against the way your body overheats, radiating from the warmth boiling in your lower belly. Squirming about trying to get comfortable, your legs hit something weirdly squishy. 

Freezing you slowly retract your foot, trying to prepare yourself to face whatever monster is in your bed. The sight of Natasha, sitting cross legged with her eyes closed and murmuring to herself, wasn’t what you were expecting but it did make you panic. Stammering you try to speak, your throat dry, as you stare wide eyed at the ginger. “U-uh um…N-Natasha did y’need somehin?” 

You watch as the older woman barely reacts to your question, only slightly moving her head as she continues her muted chanting. Unsure what to do, you try slowly moving your body around, a feeble attempt to put some space in between the two of you when her hand shoots out to grip your leg tightly. “I wouldn’t move and ruin everything if I were you, голубь.” Her normally bright emerald eyes look almost black, even with the moonlight illuminating her face. 

Her nails are digging into your thigh, almost like a bird’s talon gripping its prey. Barely looking at you, you watch as a crazed smile spreads slowly across her face. The shine of her teeth as her tongue flicks across them is distracting, but you can’t help the whimper that falls from your lips. It’s almost inaudible, and incredibly pitiful, but it’s enough to get her attention. Head snapping up, tilting as her eyes widen and focus on you. 

She stares at you, silence wrapping around the two of you like a warm blanket. Her mouth relaxes, softening into a playful grin, as she reaches for your face. “Don’t be scared, pretty girl, I promise I’m not here to hurt you. You’re so precious, and just so perfect. I could never harm you.” You know you’re shaking, involuntarily and it’s making you mad to show such a weakness, but it’s almost like she doesn’t care. 

Natasha’s body is looming over you, pushing you farther back into the mattress, soft and your usual place of comfort suddenly stripped of consolation. You can’t quite tell if fear is what you feel or if it’s something else you can’t place, but you know that your breath is caught in your throat as you stare helplessly up at her. Her free hand is trailing along your body, fingernails lightly scratching as she maps out each spot on your skin. Your mouth opens and closes a few times, trying to find the words to even try to get her to stop but for some reason you can’t speak. 

Pushing your shirt up, the ginger lets her cold hand cup your bare breasts as she internally chuckles as your torso breaks out in goosebumps. She watches through her lashes as you shake your head, a silent plea for her to stop. The hand is gentle, groping you as if handling a fragile sculpture. Natasha’s forehead leans against your collarbone, lips grazing against your skin as she mumbles. "Слава Чернобогу - славному деятелю, на которого мы возлагаем величайший трибун и страх. Хвала тому, кто дарует нам кровь, в которой обретается наша свобода. В честь тебя мы приносим самое чистое искупление". (1) 

You aren’t sure what she is saying, but it sounds scary and she’s making small noises each time she takes a breath. It’s jarring, making your skin crawl each time. Shrill and quick, the shriek is accompanied with random grunting and your brain cannot make sense of any of it. Panic begins to take over your body, flight winning over fight, you thrash as you try to escape the cage of limbs and weight of her body. It’s entirely too easy for her to overpower you, manipulating your body until you're laid out beneath her. Limbs flopped out to the side as she runs her fingers along your messy locks, smoothing them out as she settles comfortably with her knee between your thighs. “You were doing so good, don’t make me angry.” Her voice is soothing, but the threat still lingers in the air. 

The hand she tangles in your hair almost feels loving, caressing the back of your head she keeps you where she wants you. Her knee grinding against your covered center as she holds your head, cooing at you as the tears build up in your eyes. You’re begging her to stop but it’s almost like she doesn’t hear a single word you are saying. Wanda’s name is tumbling from your lips before you can stop it, as if you were reverting back to calling for your mother when you had a nightmare, hoping that she would help. 

You feel weak and helpless, something about this situation feels different. No matter how your body reacts, the arousal still simmering under your skin from whatever she did to you before you awoke, you felt betrayed and you couldn’t stop this fear of the older woman you had confided in. Throat raw as you sob, pleas for help and your step mother’s name tumbling from your lips almost incoherently, head thrashing about as you try to break free from her grasp. “Please just let me go! I won’t tell anyone, just please stop!” 

Your begging does nothing to deter the ginger, if anything she just snickers down at you. Pressing her leg more firmly in between your thighs, she can’t stop the taunt that falls from her mouth. “If you want me to stop you better stop grinding your needy cunt on my thigh, like the perfect little slut you are.” Her mouth is slightly open, a mocking smile ghosts along her lips as her tongue traces her own teeth. The forest green eyes sparkle in the moonlight, a mischievous glint as she perks up when a whimper tumbles out of you. “Call for your Mommy again, go ahead. I know she would love to see you like this.” 

Wide eyes filled with confusion as you open your mouth to scream her name, but a quiet throat clearing in the doorway gets your attention. Natasha’s hand slips from your hair to squish your cheeks as she moves your head to look over. There stands the brunette, leaning casually against the frame, her dark silhouette stark against the light from the hallway. “Did you need me, detka?” She pushes herself up, gliding gracefully over to you. Climbing onto the bed, she sits near your head. 

Her soft hands push her best friend’s off your face as she cups your jaw, cooing and fussing over you as she looks for any sign of distress or pain. You’re pushing away from Natasha, rolling over to crawl towards your step mother and trying to nuzzle your face as close to her as possible. She is tugging you forward now, almost as enthusiastic as you, and safety sinks into your mind the farther you get from the ginger’s preying hands. So focused on finding comfort in her touch, you weren’t really aware how she was manipulating your body but it was her slipping her fingers into your mouth that shocked you. 

Wanda is shushing you, the softness of her touch turning harsh and hostile as you begin to struggle against her. The digits in your mouth are thrusting vigorously, gagging you each time you try to bite down or pull away. Chastising you, the brunette scrunches her nose each time she feels your jaw tense.  “My little dove, please don’t make this difficult. We don’t want to hurt you, you’re so precious to us.” Sweet and soothing, her voice starts to settle your urge to thrash around. Fingers slipping down to your jaw, hooking along your chin painfully, she holds you in place as she slips a harness over your head. Teeth clinking against the large metal o ring, she’s clipped the gag into place and is inspecting it before you can even fight. 

Nails sink into your hips, effortlessly pulling your body up and backwards against what you can only guess is Natasha’s body. She’s guiding you to grind back onto the bulge that the ginger had been hiding this whole time. With your mouth wide open you no longer can muffle the moan, the high pitch sound bringing delighted smiles to both of the older women’s faces. Natasha leans down, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Do you hear how pretty you sound? We haven’t even properly touched you, and you’re already dripping onto the sheets.” 

You try to crawl away but Wanda wraps her hand around your throat, a concerned look on her face as she runs her free hand through your hair. “Where are you going princess? I wouldn’t struggle too much, Daddy’s cock will hurt much worse if you fight it.” Your flimsy panties are ripped away from your body, the sound of the fabric tearing fills the room and you can feel the regret of wearing basically nothing to bed. 

Smooth silicone rubs through your folds, and the shame fills your body when you subconsciously grind back onto it. Flinching when the ginger spits on you, rubbing the tip of her strap in it as she watches you shiver. “Don’t worry, we don’t want to break you, love. We just want to break you in.” 

Not even a second later, giving you no time to prepare, Natasha is shoving herself into you. You expect it to be painful, stretching around the largest thing you’ve ever taken, but after all the teasing your body is more than ready to take whatever you’re given. The older woman growls, a possessive sound, when she watches your cunt stretch and suck her cock in like you were made for her. "Благословите эту голубку, ибо она - та, кого мы сочли достойным поклонения". (2) 

The ginger’s thrusts are anything but gentle from the moment she sinks her entire length in you, hips moving at an unforgivable pace. Wanda is smiling widely at you, fingers tracing the leather digging into your cheeks. Smudging the drool that collects there all over your chin and throat, “You look so pretty like this. Your Daddy has barely even started and you’re already so fucked out.” The brunette curls her fingers into your open mouth, nails dragging across wet metal behind your teeth. 

Moans and whimpers falling from your lips mostly sound gurgled and mumbled around your step-mother’s fingers, eyes fluttering as you struggle to keep up with the way the ginger is thrusting into you. “P’ease is t’muc too.” Words slurring, voice cracking and breaking as you try to beg for relief. 

Wanda just giggles at you, almost sympathetically, as she shakes her head. “I’m sorry little one, I know you’re overwhelmed but we can’t stop.” Her wet hand slaps gently against your cheek. “You’ll thank us after.” You can hear mumbles behind you, each word punctuating the snap of her hips as she drives her length into you. It makes your head bobble and your thighs shake, but you can’t lie anymore as you feel the heat almost boiling over. Nothing has every felt as good as the hands ghosting along your body, and the strap stretching your pussy with a subtle burn.

Drool soaked fingers slip down your body, reaching between your thighs. She lets the way your body is naturally moving with Natasha’s thrust to graze your clit, throbbing and neglected. She giggles as she watches your hips jump each time she even slightly rubs at it, turning her head to nip at your ear lobe. "С каждым движением мы предлагаем тебя, чистейшее из существ, величайшему из богов. Прародитель всех, благослови невинность, чтобы принять подношение семьи. " (3) 

Your head falls pathetically against Wanda’s shoulder, your body barely able to hold up against the ginger’s rutting. You could feel the wetness coating your thighs as it dripped down, soaking into the sheets your knees are rubbing against. The longer the two older women manipulate your body the harder it is to think, to speak–almost like they drained all abilities. Vision blurry and your skull feels like it's going to explode, babbling out to the others. 

Neither care, focused on each other and their goal now. Natasha can tell just by how difficult it is to move inside you that you’re close, your cunt clench each time Wanda’s fingers pinch at your clit. The two look entirely too proud and smug as they realize just how perfect you are, the latter biting into your shoulder to leave a few marks on your otherwise untouched unmarked skin. 

The way your thighs shake and the overwhelming rush of arousal scares you, panic filling your body. “Mommy i- please. I’m” Your voice is quiet, a muted wail as you try to get their attention. “Daddy I can’t, it’s.. Im gonna–” You weren’t sure what was happening but the older women didn’t care, smiling widely at each other as Wanda pulled away to look you in the eyes. Her normal bright green no more instead blown out, black in color, as her entire body vibrates. She’s panting as she stares at you, and you don’t understand what’s happening. 

She cups your cheek, wiping the tears that are forming away. “Let go baby, Mommy is here to catch you. Show Daddy how good she’s been fucking you. Show her how good she is at taking care of all your pretty little needs.” 

Natasha tumbles forward, wrapping one arm around your waist as she roughly thumbs at your clit. Rutting into you, hitting your soft spot over and over again. The ginger is grunting into your ear, broken whimpers as she works to drag you over the edge. “Your tight little cunt is so addicting. So puffy and soft, dripping and clenching around me like a needy selfish whore. I don’t think I’m going to be able to ever share you with the rest of the group. Maybe you’ll just be our little pet forever.” 

Wanda moans, audibly, at that line. Biting her bottom lip as she leans in, kissing you. It’s sloppy and chaotic, the o ring prevents you from doing anything but letting the brunette take what she wants. “Our little thing to pamper, all you need to do is sit there and let us fill that pretty belly as many times as we want.” She’s leaning her forehead against yours, watching you struggling to even keep your fuzzy eyes open. 

In your barely coherent mind her words just push you closer to the edge, a whine as you struggle to not cum. Natasha’s hand splays across your stomach, imagining what it’ll be like when she can feel more than just her cock inside of you. “You’ll be so pretty filled with our baby. I don’t care whose cum it is that I have to fuck into you, they will be ours. You’ll get to feed them and love them while Mommy and Daddy take care of you.” Her calloused hand is pressing down on your lower belly, moaning as she feels her strap moving inside you. A choppy whine falling from her lips is all it takes to push you over the edge; your entire body shaking violently as your orgasm rushes through you.  

The heat is spreading along your body, bouncing between each place they touch keeping you in a state of euphoria. Each time they speak you can feel yourself leak, tightening around the strap. Clawing desperately at the sheets, you start feeling an overwhelming pressure building in your lower belly. No matter your attempts to move away, the older women keep you exactly where they want you. 

Natasha is rutting into you with no real care in the world, her forehead between your shoulder blades as she puts her entire body into forcing you over the edge a second time. If it weren’t for her hands on either side of your body, you know for a fact that you would have crumbled under the pressure and force she’s moving. You can barely register the way her teeth scrape against your sensitive skin as she mutters,  "Великий праотец, с освященным источником мы клянемся принести грядущим поколениям". (4)

Wanda’s hand returns to your throat, wrapping her fingers tightly around as she pulls your head back up. Slipping her thumb into your mouth, she presses it against your tongue. Your moans and words all become gibberish as your step mother leans in, licking a stripe up your cheek. As her lips meet your temple you hear the sound again, raucous and jarring, it vibrates against your skull as it tumbles over and over from the older woman’s mouth. 

Natasha’s moans are getting higher in your ear, more breathy as her hips move more erratically. Her nails are digging into your skin, and you’re sure that she’s going to leave marks. The way the two sway you between them leaves you disoriented, mind swirling as you try to keep up.   “Cum with Daddy, cum with me malyshka” 

It isn’t until you start feeling a warmth inside you, spreading and coating your insides that you finally do cum a second time. Your orgasm is strong, blinding as it ripples through your body. Even though you’re already shaking intensely, losing the ability to hold yourself up, Natasha has a grip on your hips as she continues to thrust into you. It’s all too much and you want to get away, but Wanda’s is kissing all over your mouth and the only sound you seem to be able to make is filthy moans. 

Stars are exploding behind your eyes as your head bounces around, body just trying to take the thrusts that the ginger is still forcing you to endure. The sheets below you hold a puddle of cum and you hate how sticky it makes you feel where you have half fallen into. You can’t really feel your body anymore, just the warmth inside you and the way your clit jumps. You can feel how tender and raw your pussy is even as Natasha lazily ruts into you. 

"Родина тебя, воинство, в котором наш храм дарует вечную жизнь. Прими дар вечного происхождения, стремления вперед и связанную с ним благожелательность. Жизнеспособность во всем, в чем господствует наше божество, и изгони разврат, откуда он мог прийти. За что праотец, избранный патриарх, панигирировал". (5) The ginger’s voice is soft, spoken against the back of your neck as she leans her entire weight on you. The way she holds you allows you to slip deeper into the fuzzy feeling in your brain, finally taking comfort in the way the two dote over you. 

Twitching and barely grumbling, you whine as you feel Natasha pulling out of you but it’s quickly silenced when she pops something into you. Forcing your eyes open you search for your step mother but Wanda is already standing, excusing herself as she says something about finishing up outside. You try to focus on her blurry figure as she walks away, but your eyes are still heavy and your brain can’t even understand how to move your body voluntarily yet. 

The ginger wraps you up in her arms as she sets you on a bean bag in the corner of your room, a blanket falling to lay over your limp form. Her lips graze your forehead for a moment as she rubs her thumb along your cheek. You pathetically watch her walk around the room, cleaning up, through hooded eyes. Curiously you watch as she carefully picks up the discarded strap and places it in a weird looking bag before she strips the bed. She walks over to some candles that you didn’t notice in the corner, settling the ruined sheet in the middle before kneeling near the crescent shape. 

She’s still kneeling and rocking by the time that Wanda comes back, slightly perking up at that. Your step mother kneels quickly, pouring a thick dark ruby liquid over the sheets as she adds her own chants. She moves hastily and is crossing the floor towards you before your brain can catch up. “Do you want to be on the bed to drink your hot chocolate Little One?” The lazy nod makes her smile and she slips the bottle into her back pocket, lifting you with ease. 

The new sheets are soft and dry, and you settle into them quickly before Wanda slides behind you. Letting you curl up into her warmth and she hands you what looks like a sippy cup. “I didn’t want you to spill it baby.” She disregards you as you whine about being too old, bringing the bottle to your lips as she glares down at you. 

As you drink you observe the woman, there's a shine of sweat along her brow and a few cherry splatters along her collarbone. She catches your confusion and shushes you, running her fingers along your body and tapping the plug that is still inside you. Even though you have so many questions, and the hot cocoa tastes funny, you can feel your brain and body start to go slack. All your thoughts quickly drain from your mind as you feel all your tenseness leaving your muscles. 

Natasha finally slips on the bed, pulling gently at the plug inside you to make sure nothing leaked out. Ignoring your whimper, continuing to play with the only thing keeping the cum inside you, "В этот день мы дарим нашей заветной звезде величайшую капитуляцию, на которую способна новая кровь. Обмен на одного, жизнь, которую нужно отдать, на жизнь, которой нужно быть.” (6) Her hands rub along your thighs, taking note of every mark the two left on your body. “Чтобы быть посвященными тебе как п��дношение, возлюбленный, свяжи наши души не только со священной землей, по которой ты ходишь, но и с каждым местом, где почва пропитана благословенной кровью наших предков.”(7)  Biting her bottom lip, the ginger gulps as she tries to keep her emotions in check as she finishes. ”Даруй благодать не только высшим из высших, но и прадеду, который, учитывая знания твоего мозга, является нашей дорогой в вечность и вечность в твою честь."(8) 

The ginger voice fades out, body slowly coming to a halt after she had begun to rock. Allowing the silence to lay heavy in the room, she watches the candles flicker before they quickly extinguish without a trace. Natasha finally directs her attention to Wanda, bright forest eyes filled with excitement and curiosity. “Is it done? She is ours?” 

The brunette chuckles lightly, watching as your eyes slip closed. Her hand caresses your cheek, humming as you subconsciously lean into her touch. “The family will be pleased. We’ll bring grandfather the next generation with ease.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------

1- “Unto Chernobog the glorious figure in which we place utmost tribune and fear. Praise to he who gives us the blood in which our freedom is found. We bring forth the most pure atonement in honor of thee.” 

2- “Bless this dove for she is who we deemed worthy of worship.” 

3- “With each movement, we offer thee purest of beings to the greatest of gods. The forefather of all, bless the innocence to receive the family’s offering. ” 

4-  “Great forefather, with the sanctified source, we vow to bring generations to come.” 

5- “The motherland of thee, a host in which our temple grants eternal life. Take the gift of ever derivation, strides forthcoming and bound by benevolence. Vitality in all that our deity prevails and banish depravity from once it may have come. For which the forefather, chosen patriarch, panegyrized.”

6- “On this day, we give to our treasured star the greatest surrender in which new blood can give. An exchange for one, a life to give for a life to be.”

7- “To be dedicated to you as an offering, beloved, bind our souls to not only the sacred ground you walk but each spot in which the soil is soaked with the blessed blood of our ancestors.” 

7- “Give grace to not only the highest of the highs but to the great grandfather whom given the knowledge of your brain, is our road to forever and evermore in your honor.”  

[winchesterszvonecek]

4. to take a hot bath with my muse

NSFW Prompts That Don’t Sound Like a Bad Porno

Brian Zvonecek x fem pretty pls 😘

Bath Time - [ Brian ‘Otis’ Zvonecek ] 18+

Prompt: To take a hot bath with my muse

Word Count: 731 short but hopefully satisfying ;)

Warnings: female!reader, smut - [ brief dirty talk, masturbation ]

A/N: i feel like my work sucks these days so apologies if this does

Masterlist | Otis Masterlist

It started out as nothing but a simple, relaxing bubble bath. A way for you and Otis to wash off the events of the day together as you’d barely seen each other all shift. And you were more than happy to sit between his legs with his arms wrapped around you for as long as possible if it meant just being with him.

Only as it usually went with the two of you, one slightly passionate kiss led to another, then to another. Then led to you grinding your ass against him, feeling him twitch beneath you which had his hands move straight from your waist to your breasts, kneading them softly and pinching at the hardened buds atop them in a way that had you grow hotter between your legs.

The next thing you knew both of your legs were hooked over the edge of the tub, your back pressed firmly against Otis’s chest as his fingers rubbed slow, intricate circles on your throbbing clit, in the way he always knew drove you absolutely crazy and could pull an orgasm from you within minutes.

“Fuck… Brian.” You gasped out, your head pressing further into his shoulder as he picked up the pace, enticing more sweet sounding moans to pass over your lips as you almost couldn’t contain yourself.

“You like that, baby?” Otis cooed into your ear, brushing your hair aside with his free hand to offer him a better view of his other between your legs. He placed a soft kiss on the nape of your neck, watching as the water sloshed around in front of you in rhythm with his movements. “You like when I play with your pretty little pussy like this?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, unable to even think let alone speak as your teeth bit down on your bottom lip so hard you almost drew blood. You were nearing the edge, feeling that fire burning hot inside you, about to send a fireball shooting out in a way that always left you craving more.

You never could orgasm just once with Otis, not with the way he pulled them out of you like a magician pulling handkerchiefs out of his sleeve. Just when you think it’s over, bam! He hits you with another wave and sends you hurtling over the edge into complete and utter bliss, just as he was right now.

Every single touch of his fingers made you feel like you were in heaven. Every flick, every rub, every pinch sent a shockwave of pleasure rippling throughout your body. Your eyes glazed over, seeing nothing but white as you pulled your lip through your teeth, balancing right on the edge as he began to draw his name over your clit, the first letter almost making you slip and fall the second he finished it.

“Fuck… Fuck I’m so close.” You panted, bucking your hips in rhythm with him and not caring if you were soaking the bathroom as you did as with each movement you sent water splashing over the edge of the tub.

Only one soaking thing was on your mind right now and spoiler alert, it wasn’t the floor.

“That’s it baby, come apart for me.” Otis groaned into the nape of your neck, sinking his teeth into your sensitive skin as he continued to work his magic, signing off his name and finishing with a few, more gentle strokes over your clit as you came. And hard too as your entire body began to tremble on top of him.

Your hand flew back, finger delving into his hair as you gripped it tightly, allowing him to ride you through the most incredible high you had ever felt before. Which was saying something as usually Otis had you shaking with such intense pleasure that you weren’t able to see straight for a good few minutes afterwards.

Today was no different either as by the time you came down your eyes were still a little blurry, your chest heaving with each gasping breath you took. Even your legs hurt terribly, from clenching so hard around the tub to stop them from closing involuntarily.

But all that minor discomfort, the uncomfortableness and the slight hints of pain shooting up your legs were one hundred percent worth it and the second you came down completely, you were more than ready for another round… Or two.

Like this? Apply to my Otis tag list here!

tagging: @sancochillo @kellykidd @violetmacher @kiddbegins @neapolitantoebeans @alexxavicry @wandamaxim0f @bloodybagels @stephydearestxo @evanbuckbuckley @doublebassallie @orileyrandom @annchersita @babyyoda89

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[kissingghouls]

The Count

PART TWO: THE DEAL (ao3 link)(part one)

vampireCopia x fem Reader, Dracopia x fem Reader

tags & warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, horror themes, vampire violence, blood, blood drinking, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT. more tags on ao3.

6k words

another special thank you to my wonderful friend @ramblingoak for the encouragement and patience with my vampire shenanigans.

Part Two: The Deal

There was a vampire in your bed.

It probably should have frightened or at least concerned you. But if you were honest, you’d imagined this exact scenario more than a few times since your first brush with the Count. Oh, how sweetly you’d called his name in the dark of your room, but he never appeared. Until now.

There on your fluffy, white duvet the Count lounged against your pillows in a tight red suit. His arm rested behind his head while he skimmed through your newly acquired copy of The Cardinal’s Bride. Apparently deep in thought, Copia turned the page and completely ignored you.

That was not how you’d imagined it.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, hands settling on your hips and your eyes landed on his shoes. They were the same color as his suit, but they were also on your bed.

“I’ve simply come to take back what’s mine,” he replied, his eyes still scanning the pages of the novel.

“Well, your book isn’t in my bed.”

“No, dolce. But you are. I can sense you all over this room,” he said with a satisfied smirk. He finally lowered the book and glanced at you knowingly. “Tell me, did I really leave you so frustrated you’ve had to find creative ways to cope?”

“Give it back,” you growled and reached across the bed to snatch your beloved story from his hands. He dodged your easily, rolling off to the side of the bed as he dangled the book just out of reach.

“What will you give me if I do, dolce?” he asked lowly. “Would you let me taste you again?”

It went straight to your core.

He tried to hide the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You would, wouldn’t you? Dolce, do you have a thing for the mean old vampire? Do you know I can hear you call to me on the other side of the castle?”

“Shut up,” you groaned, still reaching for your book.

“Oh, dolce,” he cooed. In one swift motion his hand went to the small of your back, pulling you down to him. With another evil grin, he turned his body to easily pin you under him and lowered his head, lips brushing against your neck. “Won’t you let me taste you again? I promise it won’t hurt.”

“Copia, please,” you begged shamelessly. The weight of the Count on top of you felt like heaven, or the closest to heaven a Sister of Sin could get.

He pressed a leather clad finger to your lips as he drew himself up on his knees. “Quiet, dolce. You’ll wake the others.”

Slowly, he lifted the hem of your t-shirt from the top of your thighs, pushing it up and up as he moved down your body. His eyes were on yours, watching your breath catch in your throat as his hands reached your hips. His fingers curled into fists, the leather of his gloves creaking as he drew your t-shirt up even further. His breath was hot on your skin, rolling over the most sensitive part of you as he leaned in close.

Your breath caught again as his lips brushed your inner thigh. He dropped your shirt, one hand going to your knee to open your legs a little more. The other settled on your cunt, his fingers dragging over the material of your panties. His eyes never left yours, silently searching for permission as he worked his hand. When your head fell back, he pushed your panties to the side and traced his gloved fingers over your bare cunt, humming as your slick coated the leather.

You weren’t sure what you were doing, but you didn’t want it to end. As he pressed a finger against your entrance, you knew he didn’t want to stop either. He pulled back just enough to slide your panties down your legs, and he was on you again before they landed somewhere forgotten on the floor. He went slowly at first, slipping in one finger and then easing in a second, working them in and out of you at slow pace. He was looking for the place that would make you whine for him and when he found it, he didn’t let up. He pressed in deeper, curling his fingers against that spot so wonderfully you almost forget your name. His other hand moved to your clit, circling and teasing your sensitive nerves as your cunt began to tighten around his fingers. His pace quickened, his hand pumping faster now as he coaxed you to the edge, drawing you closer and closer to an orgasm as your toes curled against the bed. You cried out as his mouth finally closed around your clit, licking and sucking until you fell from the cliff.

He smiled as you cried out, still working his fingers as his lips pressed against your thigh. He bit down, easily breaking the soft skin with his fangs. It probably should have hurt, but in the throes of your orgasm you could barely notice anything but your own pleasure.

Blood poured from the wound, a little more with each rapid heartbeat. Copia drank it up hungrily while still fucking his fingers into you, faster now. Before you could make sense of it, he’d pulled you right back to the edge and you came again. He drank from you while you came down, the blood flow slowing as your heart rate returned to normal.

He pressed a hand over the wound he’d made, keeping it there as he rose to meet your eyes again. A strangled cry left your throat as he brought his fingers to his lips and licked his glove clean.

You could smell your blood on his breath. It should have disgusted you or at the very least scared you, but all you could feel was that heat burning between your legs again. He was growing hard, his thick cock pressing against you only made the heat worse. He settled next to you, his cock pressing against your ass as he pulled you close.

You tried desperately to grind against him, but he granted you nothing more than a soft squeeze of your thigh.

“Copia,” you begged, hating how desperate you sounded. “Please. Please fuck me.”

“Oh, dolce. You’re too weak,” he whispered against your neck, his hands trailing over your body. “You wouldn’t survive.”

You whimpered at his reply, at his touch, at anything he would give.

“I’m sorry, dolce. I took too much. I’m afraid I’m just as needy as you.”

“Copia, please,” you whined, pressing against him for more contact. “I’m good. I’ll be fine.”

His lips brushed your throat, and he gently pressed a kiss into your carotid artery. “I can feel your heart, dolce. Don’t you feel it?” he asked as he snaked a hand under your shirt to rest it against your heart. “Your pulse is weak even when it speeds up for me. You need to rest, cara. I’ll have you again.”

“Will you?”

He smiled, your blood still staining his sharp white teeth. “Of course, dolce. How else will you get your book back?”

You groaned as he pulled away from you, moving too fast for you to quite comprehend in your weakened state. He snatched the book from the bed, letting the bookmark you’d carefully tucked between the pages float to the ground. He leaned forward and caught you in a soft, chaste kiss.

“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, his voice low.

“Wear the cape next time.” Your request was barely a whisper, your eyes growing too heavy as the blood loss caught up with you.

You tried to lure Count Copia back to your room, calling his name each time your brought yourself to bliss while thinking about him. But the vampire eluded you, probably busy with whatever business vampires had. Maybe you could ask him next time.

The problem was, the more your mood improved thanks to that handsome vampire, the more Sister Debra wanted to take you out. It was pure luck that Copia had taken his folklore book as well as yours when he did. The next day Sister Imperator had demanded entrance to search your room for contraband like a prison guard. There was nothing to be found of course, but it did little to drive the growing suspicions away. Debra and Imperator both kept an increasingly close eye on you.

But tonight, that didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except the Count. If he couldn’t come to you, well, you’d just have to find a way to get to him.

During the last trip to town, you snuck off to purchase one of those sexy little nightgowns in a soft, pale pink. It was the perfect thing for sneaking around a castle to hopefully bewitch a Count. Even if the castle was drafty as hell. You waited for the others to go to bed, keeping careful tabs on Debra in case she tried to stop you. As soon as you saw her head to the bathrooms with her shower kit, you bolted down the stairs and into the East Wing.

You weren’t sure where to begin your search. The East Wing wasn’t exactly small and mapping the place out had been the last thing on your mind that first night. You wondered if he would simply find you again.

Quietly, you climbed the stairs in the turret, taking a moment to admire the chandelier hanging in the center. It was much easier to find your way in the light. Without the threat of a storm, this part of the castle felt more like a home.

One of the heavy doors to the library was left open, inviting you inside. There, tucked away between the stacks was your handsome vampire. He was fast asleep, head resting against his shoulder as his body slumped in a large chair that may as well have been a throne. A pile of books lay at his feet.

The room was surprisingly free of dust, each surface now sparkling under the light from the carefully placed candles dotted around the room. Heavy curtains now hung in front of every window, protecting the books and the Count from the sun.

You leaned down, cupping his face as you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. His eyes flew open, hands immediately grabbing your hips to pull you into his lap.

“Oh, dolce,” he sighed happily. “You’re finally here.”

“I’m so sorry, Copia. I tried to get here sooner, but—”

“Nevermind that, dolcezza. You are here now, no?” he asked and nipped at your neck. “I have missed you; you know?”

“I’ve missed you too. You look pale, my darling.” You pushed his hair away from his face. “Have you eaten?”

He bit his lip and looked at the floor. “I have been selfish, dolce,” he admitted. “I want only you.”

“Oh, Copia.” You slammed your mouth against his, devouring him just as he would you. He moaned as he parted his lips, letting you trace the shape of his fangs with your tongue. Grinding down against him, you begged him to take from you.

He watched you for a moment, eyes wild and hungry as your hips continued their assault. He slipped his hands over your shoulders, pushing the flimsy straps of your nightgown away until it slid past your breasts. Gently, he brought his lips to your chest, wrapping them around a nipple as he reached up to roll the other between his fingers. He smiled as your head fell back, the sensations setting your body on fire. His teeth caught your skin, sinking in just above your left breast. He drank from you as though it had been months, needy desperate sounds leaving his throat with each beat of your heart. He worked a hand between the two of you, quickly guiding his fingers into your entrance as he roughly circled his palm against your clit.

“That’s it dolce. Just like that,” he cooed as he pulled off your chest. You could feel blood sliding down your skin, crimson stains blooming across the silky material of the nightgown as he curled his fingers inside you. “Fuck yourself on my fingers. I want your scent on my gloves forever.”

You could swear he could make you cum with just his voice, but he continued his ministrations as he returned to the wound. He traced over the marks he’d made lovingly, the color returning to his face a little more with each swipe of his tongue. He made a new mark as you tensed around him, drinking you down as your body shook against his hands. You came with a shout, the sound of your pleasure echoing off the vast collection of books in a sinful way.

“Dolce, il mio tesoro,” he panted, resting his head against your chest. “So good to me.”

“Count Copia,” you purred, not bothering to hide the smile that graced your face as he groaned at your words. You knew he wouldn’t fuck you after drinking from you. But that didn’t mean your night had to end. “Will you let me taste you this time?”

He leaned back to look at you, a low growl humming in his chest as you rolled your hips against him for emphasis. A weak nod was all the confirmation you needed to slide off the chair and settle between his legs.

You wanted to go slow, to tease and torture the man as much as possible, but your hands made quick work of the fastenings on his trousers. Clearly more in tune with your cunt than your brain, you freed his hard cock. Your eyes widened at the sight of it, your core tightening as you pressed your legs together and tried not to imagine what it would feel like when he finally filled you. His cock was so thick it was hard to think of anything but the way your body would have to stretch to accommodate him. You were soaking through your panties, tiny needy sounds leaving your throat as you looked up at the beautiful vampire. He brought a hand to your face, lovingly tracing over your cheek as you inched forward and drew your tongue over the pearl of pre-cum on his pink tip.

He moaned so loud, the nails of his free hand digging into the arm of the chair. It was all the encouragement you needed to bring your hand to the base of this cock as you fit your mouth around the head. His fingers left your face, curling into a fist around your hair as you took in more of him. A low, pleased hum left his throat as you slid your tongue over him. His hips left the chair as he hit the back of your throat, a thousand mumbled apologies in English and Italian tumbling from his lips. You didn’t want apologies. You wanted him to do it again.

You reached behind your head, planting your hand against his and pressed down until he understood. He didn’t need to be told twice. Copia fucked your mouth like it was the last thing he’d ever do, desperate and rushed. You felt his cock kick just before he pulled you away roughly, your mouth still open as he came, spilling all over your face and chest with a shout.

It stung as his cum mixed with your open wounds.

He brought his hands to your face again, gazing down at you with an almost loving expression in his blissed out state. He urged you closer, letting you rest your head against his thigh while you caught your breath.

“Oh, Sorella, you’re a mess,” he whispered and ran his thumb over your bottom lip, smearing the cum that had collected there. He pressed his messy thumb into your mouth and groaned as you licked his seed from his gloves. “Dolce?”

“Copia,” you teased in the same tone.

He shifted in the chair, not bothering to tuck himself back into his pants before pulling you up into his lap with far too much ease. “I’ll be sure to have my strength next time, dolce.”

You smiled and pressed a soft kiss against his lips.

“By the way, I like this Cowboy Cardinal. He sounds handsome, dashing. He has a lot of, eh, stamina.”

You blushed and hid your face against his neck. The vampire had actually read the book.

“Make sure to pick out a book before you go,” he whispered into your hair as his arms tightened around you.

Copia held you for hours, letting you sleep against his chest until dawn cruelly approached. He tucked your hair behind your ear with a fond smile and draped his cape over your shoulders to cover some of the mess the two of you had made. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining as he guided you to the stacks to watch you make a selection.

You couldn’t explain his sudden tenderness and you didn’t want to. It felt right to be near him, to lose yourself in the soft brush of his fingers against your waist as he pulled you close. He let his chin rest against your shoulder while you searched the shelves for the shortest book you could find. You didn’t want to wait to see him again.

He seemed to sense this, squeezing you tighter as your hand traced over the spines of the books in his poetry collection.

“I won’t be long, mia cara,” he promised. “Nothing will keep me from you.”

And you believed him with your whole heart.

Debra, on the other hand, had other plans. As you floated out of the East Wing, Debra was waiting at the bottom of the stairs—with Sister Imperator.

“Sister Imperator, please, if I could just—”

The nun whipped around and pinned you with an icy glare. “I said no, and that’s the end of it. The Count is dangerous.”

“But he isn’t to me,” you argued.

“You stupid girl,” she spat venomously. “Are you so naïve that you think you’re the first? That man—that thing will not think twice about ripping your throat out. Do you understand? You are not to set foot in the East Wing ever again. I’ll lock you in that room if I must. Forget about him. He will forget about you.”

It wasn’t fair.

The things she said about your Count couldn’t be true.

There was a large black box on your bed where the vampire was supposed to be. Finally, the dress you ordered for the abbey’s annual fundraiser had arrived, but you were fucked if it wasn’t a perfect fit. Your punishments had left you with no room for free time, not even a proper fitting like the others had. Stuck scrubbing floors on your hands and knees at the opposite end of the castle under Debra’s hateful eye, you’d barely made the deadline to get your order in. As you popped the lid out of place, your heart sank.

This wasn’t your dress.

A simple business card lay in the middle of the silky fabric, initialed with a single letter in red: C. You bit your lip to try to contain the smile, but it was no use. The Count hadn’t forgotten you. The Count was coming for you and the dress was a warning to anyone who would try to stop him.

You pulled the thing from the box and traced your hands over it. The dress was decorated with intricate beading that spilled down to its full skirt, all of it in a beautiful deep, dark red—the color of blood. You stepped into the dress and couldn’t stop yourself from imagining Copia’s hands holding your waist as he helped to zip you in. You shook your head, sliding the zipper into place on your own. It was impossibly perfect, as though the dress had been made for you alone. It wouldn’t surprise you if it was, after all your Count was nothing if not well dressed.

With a swelling sense of pride, you draped the vampire’s cape over your shoulders and stopped to admire yourself in the mirror. A slick swipe of deep red lip gloss was the finishing touch you needed before heading downstairs.

These fundraisers were important to the church, but in your experience, they were unbearably dull. This was the first you’d attended at this abbey, and while it was a great deal fancier than the other fundraisers you’d seen, it wasn’t any livelier. A collection of wealthy men and nuns in formal dress milled about, sipping from champagne flutes while trying to impress each other. Moments like these made the abbey feel more like a brothel than a place of worship—even if it was sin you worshipped.

A string quartet played a haunting melody, encouraging the room to dance, but your partner was nowhere to be found. You slipped through the crowd, hanging around the back wall to avoid being asked to dance by these inferior men.

Oh, how you wished for your vampire to take you from this dull life of worship and solitude. You wanted to build an altar to Copia, to sit at his feet in awe of him for the rest of your days. Maybe it was impossible, but you couldn’t let Debra and Sister Imperator get in your way anymore. You would run if you had to.

A hush fell over the room. The musicians quieted their strings, and no one dared to speak. You raised up on your tiptoes, trying to see what the lack of commotion was about. Whispers began to rip through the crowd, a name laced with fear rippling through the party.

Count Copia.

You didn’t bother to hide your smile.

Standing at the entrance to his castle, your vampire stood proudly in white. He was so impossibly handsome it made your heart tight, even from afar. He adjusted the hat on his head, setting it straight with one hand while the handle of his cane rested in the other. He was practically glowing, all those little traces of weakness he’d let you see—the pale skin, the tired eyes—a thing of the distant past. He’d fed well before the party. You felt tears sting your eyes. He had promised he would be strong for you next time.

His mismatched eyes swept the crowd, searching for that bloodred dress. An undeniable smile crept across his face when he spotted you against the back wall. The quartet resumed their song. The attendees began to chatter and dance again. None of the noise mattered as the Count continued toward you, practically shoving people out of his way.

“Dolce,” he said sweetly as he landed in front of you. He moved his hat from his head, holding it over his chest as he bowed. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered, trying to keep the tears at bay.

“Oh, dolce, please don’t cry,” he soothed, bringing a gloved finger to collect the tear at the corner of your eye. “Nothing will keep me from you.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just—Sister Imperator said such horrible things about you—”

“Did she?” he asked. His eyebrow raised as you nodded. “Dolce, you let me worry about the mean old nun, eh? This is your night.”

You threw your arms around him, holding him as tightly as you could. Your lips found his, slotting together as he locked an arm around your waist and pulled you into a dark hallway.

“I missed you,” you whispered against his lips, never wanting them to leave yours.

“You have me now, tesoro,” he assured you. “I am yours.”

You couldn’t help but whimper at his words. You knew you were so far gone, head over heels for the charming Count, but it was surprising to hear him admit the same. His grip tightened on your waist as his mouth moved to plant open mouthed kisses against your throat.

“Copia,” you moaned as the sharp sting pierced your neck, his teeth cutting into your skin.

Slowly, he licked at the wound, savoring the taste of you on his tongue after so long. A guttural growl rose from his chest as traced over it again, his hips rutting against you. “Tesoro,” he hummed against your neck. “I will make you mine tonight. I am going to fuck you until you forget your name and the only one you know is mine. Would you like that? Do you think you can handle it?”

Your head fell back as you moaned out an enthusiastic yes. He smiled as he pulled away, blood dripping from his lips and teeth. It spilled over his chin and spread across the white material of his jacket, a visible splotch. You swiped your thumb over the blood, collecting what you could before he sucked your fingers into his mouth.

“You’re a mess, Count Copia,” you teased, repeating his words back to him.

“Only for you, amore mio.” He slid his hand over the swell of your ass and squeezed hard. “Let’s party.”

With a roll of your eyes, you let the vampire lead you back to the festivities. There was an extra spring in his step, his body practically vibrating now that he’d had another taste of you. He moved smoothly through the crowd, his arm locked tight around your waist as he pulled you to the middle of the room. You could feel everyone staring at the two of you. A flurry of hushed whispers hidden behind hands crashed around the room as the Count presented his prize.

He slid the cape from your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor with a dull thud. “Let them see, dolce,” he growled. “Let them see who you belong to.”

The Sisters watched Copia circle you like a shark, his cane rapping sharply against the marble floor with each step. He staked his claim to you in front of everyone as he slammed his lips against yours. It lasted only seconds before you were wrenched away from him.

“That’s enough!” Sister Imperator shouted as she shoved you behind her. She squared off against the Count, straightening her spine to stand a little taller. “This stops now, Copia.”

Copia smiled dangerously, sharp teeth on display. “Is that right, Sister?”

Her eyes narrowed. “You have blood on your lapel, Count Copia.”

“Hmm, careless I suppose. Or perhaps, it’s a declaration Sister.”

She shook her head. “You can’t do this, Copia. We’ve kept you safe. You can’t—”

“It seems you’ve forgotten whose house this is Sister Imperator. Should I remind you a second time? How did you get anyone to join your little church after the last massacre?”

Her mouth opened and closed helplessly. “You wouldn’t—”

He shifted toward her and took her jaw in his hand. “You have no idea what I would do, Sister.” He smiled again. “Or what I’ve done.”

The color drained from her face as she searched the crowd. Slowly, men began to step forward from the mass gathered around you, their faces painted to resemble skulls. They eyed the guests hungrily but made no move without Copia’s word.

“Come, amore,” he commanded, taking your hand in his.

Sister Imperator fainted, her body hitting the floor with a sickening smack. Someone screamed.

“Enjoy the party, gentlemen,” the vampire called over his shoulder as another scream tore through the castle.

Copia led you into the East Wing, his hand never leaving yours. The two of you climbed up and up, further into the castle than you’d ever dared to imagine. He found his way easily in the darkness, from skill or familiarity you weren’t sure, never slowing down until he reached a set of heavy doors at the top of the tower.

His bedroom looked like a picture of a royal palace, all damask wallpaper and thick velvet chairs with gold frames. There was an oversized four-post bed centered against the wall, fitted with heavy black curtains to keep out the rest of the world. Large floor to ceiling windows perfectly framed the view of the grounds and the beautiful night sky.

“What no coffin?” you asked with a smirk as you took in your surroundings. He certainly lived like a Count.

“I’m a Count, dolce, not a corpse.”

“What does that make me?” you asked as he pressed himself against your back.

“Hmm, what would you like to be amore mio?” he asked, tracing his lips over your collarbone. He trailed a line from your shoulder to you ear as he whispered. “The Countess?”

“That does have a nice ring to it,” you teased.

He spun you in his arms and held you close, lips ghosting over yours as he eased you back toward the bed. “Dolce,” he purred, hands already working at the zipper of your dress. “I will give you whatever you want. I will give you forever if that is your wish.”

“I want you, Copia.”

A low growl rumbled from his throat as he pulled your dress apart, the seams popping loudly as beads scattered across the floor. The remnants fell from your body, pooling on the floor in a messy puddle of blood red fabric. You opened your mouth to protest, but Copia reached up and grabbed your chin.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he assured you before slamming his mouth against yours, another growl building in his throat. His fangs nipped at you, the taste of blood lingering in his kiss as his hands trailed down.

Moving too fast to make sense of it, you found yourself on your back in the bed, the vampire’s body grinding against you. He traced his fingers over your breasts, kneading and squeezing as he mouthed at your neck. You moaned out his name as you tried in vain to push his jacket from his shoulders. He was too caught up in drawing his hands over every inch of you, too busy worshiping you to notice how badly you wanted him.

“Copia,” you said firmly, taking his face in your hands.

He looked up at you, his mismatched eyes blown wide. An almost drunken smile played on his lips as he slid back and pushed your legs apart. He dropped a soft kiss against the inside of your thigh, lips finding the scar on the spot where he’d drank for you that first time. His teeth cut into you as he ripped apart the delicate lace of your panties. You knew he was strong, but seeing it on display went straight to your center, your cunt tightening as he pinned you in place.

He moved between your legs, tracing his tongue over your clit as blood spilled from your thigh, soaking into his jacket. You mewled at the feeling of his fingers at your entrance, at the sight of him covered in your blood, marking him as yours. He pumped his fingers into you, his mouth never leaving your sensitive bud as he quickly pulled an orgasm from you. Your thighs closed tight against his ears as you cried out, calling his name like a prayer.

He lay his head across your stomach while you caught your breath. A delighted hum rattled from his chest as you ran your fingers through his greying hair. Shifting slightly, he brought your leg back to his mouth, pressing your knee to your chest as he tasted you again. It set a fire in him, another growl, positively feral this time, ripped from his throat. He quickly shed his clothes, tossing them off the side of the bed. His cock hung thick and heavy, his hand tracing the vein that ran the length of him as he looked down at you.

He looked like a god.

He grabbed your neck, pulling you up to meet him in a hungry kiss, your blood and slick still on his tongue. You moaned into his mouth, his strength turning you on once again. He moved you around so easily like you were some weightless thing as he positioned you over his cock.

“Can you take it, dolce?” he asked against your neck, easing your hips down to slide his cock between your folds. He hissed as he pressed against your entrance, his eyes screwed tight as he resisted the urge to buck up into you.

“Make me yours, Copia,” you pleaded, slowly sinking down. The sting of the stretch of him, painful and blissful had your lip between your teeth, reopening the wounds.

He held you still, kissing you softly as he bottomed out and stole your breath. “Mine, amore. All mine.”

“Yours,” you agreed as you rocked against him, letting the drag of his cock pull another moan from you.

He filled you so fully, better than you’d ever imagined between your sheets in your room. His cock, so thick and heavy pressed against your walls as you moved.  He was patient as you set a pace for yourself, his hips picking up to meet yours as your speed increased.

He leaned back, falling against the bed with a hand lazily resting at your hip. Another half-drunk smile spread over his face as he watched your bodies connected, groaning as you worked yourself over him. You fucked yourself on him, riding him until your legs burned and your cunt tightened around him. He pressed his thumb against your clit, moving to match your efforts. It hit you harder this time, your orgasm ripping through you with a ferocity you’d never felt before. It was his praise that kept you going even through your exhaustion, words whispered in such a dirty tone that you needed more, more, more. The vampire was happy to give, pulling you down to him to hold you tight as he began to thrust into you.

He was so strong, easily keeping your hips still as his pace increased. He didn’t slow down for anything, not even as you came around him a third time. You could barely hold yourself up, too blissed out to even try, but he granted you mercy as he pulled out and pushed you face down into the bed. He slammed into you from behind, over and over as he fucked you hard and rough. A mix of deep growls and chants of mine, mine, mine, hung around the room as he chased his high, his fingers pressing bruises into your hips. As his tempo became more erratic, he pulled you up with a hand around your throat. He sank his teeth into your neck as he pushed into you as deep as he could, repeatedly pounding against that spot inside you as you cried out. Blood rushed down your chest as you and your vampire came together. A strangled sound became trapped in his throat as he spilled inside you, holding you tightly through each hot pulse.

He pulled out slowly, both of you hissing at the loss. Gently, he laid you on the bed and pressed bloody kisses into whatever patch of skin he could reach. You could feel your life slipping out of you with every beat of your heart, warm blood soaking into your hair and the sheets as your body grew colder.

“Oh, amore,” he moaned quietly as your eyes fluttered shut. He traced over every part of you, memorizing the feeling of your skin against his. “Do you want forever? Can I give you forever, dolce?”

You managed a delighted hum in return, too weak to do much else. Forever with Copia sounded like paradise, a utopia for two souls that found each other in a storm and couldn’t stop searching for the other after that. Copia was eternal and you weren’t going to let anyone take him from you again. “Want you,” you said softly. “Forever.”

You didn’t see his smile, but you felt him closing in on you. It took a moment, but you realized he had pressed his wrist against your mouth, warm and wet as his blood dripped onto your lips. It should have been bitter, a disgusting mix of iron and copper coating your tongue and teeth. But Copia’s blood tasted like a sweet wine and you drank it down greedily as he smoothed his other hand over your hair.

“That’s it, dolce,” he hummed as you swallowed him down. “Mine forever.” He removed his wrist and slotted his mouth against yours, pressing a fevered kiss into your lips. “Yours forever, amore.”

(part three)

[justatypicalwizard]

Wants Within | S. Shinazugawa | Chapter 18

✦ Sanemi Shinazugawa x femReader!, college au, reader is adult

✦ Synopsis: You're a college student taking classes with a very strict lecturer- professor Shinazugawa. Because of an unfortunate event you got on his bad side so now you're trying everything to regain in his eyes. Well, you most certainely didn't expect that kind of attention.

✦ Word count: 1,7k

18+, minors do not interac

You felt his hands all over you. He grabbed your ass harshly and picked you up, sinking his lips into your. You wrapped your tight around his slim waist, groaning internally at the feeling of his perfectly shaped body. 

‘’Are you still in the mood for ‘do whatever you want with me’?’’ He asked in a raspy voice, between the kisses. 

‘’That’s my default.’’ You giggled, tracing your fingers along his jawline, only so slightly. Next you cupped his cheeks in your palms to stop him from aggressively possessing your mouth. Inching closer you gave him butterfly kisses, for the sole purpose of teasing him. The last straw that you drew was the cat lick on his lips, your face blushing but your eyes hungry. That was enough for Shinazugawa. 

‘’Are you in the mood for a foreplay?’’ He asked, literally throwing you on the bed. 

As your back bounced on the soft mattress you looked up to see him undressing, you did the same. Well, he was quicker and before you could free yourself from your underwear he was on top of you. Skilfully, he unclasped your bra with one hand and moved to your panties. 

‘’I started to like it.’’ he said playfully, before flashing you a devilish, toothy grin. 

Then, he tore yet another pair of you panties open. 

‘’Oh hell no!’’ You said. ‘’Sanemi!’’ 

You were not even half aware how much you teased him. That frown with his name, oh how he loved it. 

‘’Don't worry kitten, I’ll buy you new ones.’’ He stood proud in front of you, obviously showing off his muscles and you couldn't deny, you like it. ‘’So, you want foreplay?’’ 

Oh, how glad you were that he asked. You were definitely too horny for that. 

‘’No, I just want to fuck.’’ You told him greedily, licking your lips. 

‘’That’s what I wanted to hear.’’ He grinned, grabbing your hips. 

His strong arms pulled you towards the bed end. He stood up and picked you easily, turning you around. Now, you were on all your fours waiting for him. You heard the sound of the condom as you wiggled your ass impatiently. 

‘’Geez, wait. Or are you so greedy for my cock?’’ He laughed, pushing the tip at your entrance. ‘’Guess you are.’’ he said and you nodded with a huff. ‘’Okay, then let me give it to you baby.’’ 

He put his hand between your shoulder blades and pushed hard, making your chest hit the mattress and your face burry into the soft, black material of his bedsheets. He pulled at your hair and your neck bent up. Without mercy, he shoved himself all in. 

It was like someone split you in half. Your body was not experienced and ready enough. Well, you doubt it will ever be taking his size into consideration. Yet, the pain felt so right, so needed. You felt him hard, with every small muscle, from the walls of your pussy to the toes that curled when he pushed more and more. 

He pulled out and slammed himself once more, and again, and again. 

‘’Tell me when it’ll start to feel good, not only pain.’’ Oh that bastard knew damn well what he was doing. ‘’But I need to say, you’re very brave. First time I can really do what I like.’’ He purred into your ear filling you with confidence. 

You wanted everything that he did. You were so glad that the two of you had the same needs and fantasies. You always feared that your kinks would be too much. Yet, here’s the man that could satisfy you. 

‘’Maybe you’ll make me feel good when you stop fucking around and start fucking me.’’ You grinned, turning your head to the side for him to see your little, devilish expression. 

He must be fair with himself, you threw him off the track. He never anticipated that he’ll find a girl that would always want more of him. He was definitely a brat tamer, but it’s the first time he found his sweet little brat. 

‘’Just as you want princess.’’ And with that he rammed into you. 

Loud and lewd moans dripped from your mouth as he shifted your insides and carved your body into his shape. The thing that made you fall off the edge were his occasional grunts. Getting a bit of countroll back as you got used to the tempo you squeezed your muscles to clamp around him more and every time you did a curse or a moan would escape his pale lips. Even though you were at the bottom, you had control over him. 

At least you thought so, before the knot that you could previously ignore now started to get painfully present. You lost your breath, moaning without any rhythm, losing control over your own muscles. They all clasped around his cock abruptly as you came with a loud scream of his name. 

He didn’t need more to reach his orgasm. He pushed into you last few times, cumming inside. 

It took a while for the both of you to catch your breaths. Sanemi pulled out and threw away the used condom. You fell on the bed and stretched yourself. Suddenly, you felt a slap to your asscheek. 

‘’To the toilet now. I don’t want you getting an infection.’’ He pointed at the doors. 

‘’Okay, okay.’’ You giggled and skipped the way he showed you. 

As you fixed yourself in the toilet you looked in the mirror. Your lips were swollen, your lower ones also. You tried to do something with your hair but it lived its own life. Shrugging, you washed your hands and stepped outside, not feeling any embarrassment in front of Shinazugawa. 

Marching naked through his apartment you suddenly got hit with something in your face. Catching it you saw it was a band tee. It was huge and easily reached half your tight. It was a Time Impala t-shirt. 

Putting it on you laughed at Sanemi. 

‘’You basic bitch.’’

‘’You want to listed to fucking Mozart Miss ‘distinctive music taste’?’’ He threw at you but you only laughed. 

‘’Just joking.’’ 

‘’Want some more?’’ He asked, picking up the wine glasses. 

‘’Yes, why not.’’ You thought you would be okay, would you?

You sat on the couches as he turned on a small lamp. The room bathed in a golden light, making it very cosy. The wood looked soft and delightful while the black couches glistered, reflecting the light. 

Shinazugawa put on the same pants he had earlier, denying himself any shirt. He sat down on the couch, leaning in, holding his wine in one hand and brushing his hair with the other. A few ruffles and it was the usual white mess. 

Looking him up and down in a less sensual manner you remembered the one question you always wanted to ask him. 

‘’Where did you get all there scars?’’ You spat out bluntly. ‘’Of course, if I may ask.’’ 

‘’Yeah, why not.’’ He shrugged. ‘’When I was small my family had a car accident. Me and my brother were the only ones that got out of it alive. Genya happened to sit behind me and I got the bigger blow. I grew up with those scars.’’ He looked somewhere past you and your stomach dropped. 

‘’But, how do you feel about them?’’ You pried. 

‘’I’m kinda grateful that it’s me, not Genya. He could not be able to live with it. He’s a shy idiot who can’t take advantage of his strong side. He’s actually pretty insecure about that one scar that was left on his face.’’ It felt surreal, listening about the smaller brother's insecurity while looking at Sanemi, covered in the painful memories.

‘’I’m not asking about Genya, I’m asking about you.’’ You told him. 

It shocked him a bit. Usually people shut up after he says such things but you, you did not. You were interested in his feelings in all of this. 

‘’I don’t really care.’’ He stated, looking you in the eye. ‘’I already look godly. If I didn’t have those scars I would be too perfect.’’ You laughed at his joke. His mind told him to stop at this moment but his heart wanted to tell you one more thing. ‘’The only… I only regret that so many people see me through these scars. They start to project things on me. I’m no gangster, I teach at a fucking university and just happened to be in a accident.’’ He looked you deep in the eye. ‘’You were actually the first person who seemed to not give a fuck about them from the very begining.’’

His statement caught you off guard. You never thought about yourself as someone special, you were just your regular self. Actually, what you thought was going on was him, keeping his emotions shut deep down. Maybe, in fact, people were never kind to him and approached him with some carved beliefs and prejudices? That would match the thousands of walls he built around himself.

You didn’t quite know why, but you wanted to climb these walls and reach the centre. 

‘’It sounds like a hard topic, I’m sorry but I don’t quite know what else to say.’’ You apologised to him for your poor comforting skills.

‘’You already did a lot, believe it or not.’’ He gave you one of those small smiles and you choked on your wine. 

Dropping the heavy topics you started to talk about smaller and simpler stuff. You shared your music tastes, what clothes you like to wear, dogs and cats. The conversation was light hearted and comfortable. You never knew you would get to know so much about your crush. 

Soon the two of you found yourself finishing the wine bottle. Maybe it was a bit too much for you, actually you never read how many percent the liquor had. Well, enough to get you a bit drowsy. 

‘’I should probably head home, don’t want to take an uber too late in the night.’’ You said, your voice sinking down. You didn’t want to go home. 

‘’You can stay the night if you want.’’ Shinazugawa shrugged.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@secretxchive @vesperazhier @sulli1361

[mt-musings]

Bluebell

Chapter 18

After being abruptly transferred to the BAU at what she suspects was Gideon's request, Cassie Boann struggles to find her footing. Shy and solitary by nature, the transition is made all the more difficult when Dr. Spencer Reid seems to take an almost immediate dislike to her. Unfortunately for them both, their respective areas of expertise leave them paired off more often than not. But when Cassie's past literally starts hunting her, Spencer is forced to consider that he might, in fact, not hate her at all.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Spencer Reid x OC

Warnings: Canon typical violence, kidnapping, stalking, drug use, blood, injury, death, PTSD, eventual smut, more tags to be added

Series Masterlist

Read on AO3

18. Steady as She Goes

Spencer’s eyes kept flicking to the empty seat on the jet where Cassie usually sat. Hotch had asked her to stay behind to coordinate the excavation of Jane’s property with Lopez from ERT, something that he’d been surprised that she’d so readily agreed to after her anxiety attack in the barn. 

Though she had said it was the blood that had bothered her. She’d always been fine with bones. 

The look of fear in her eyes as she watched Gideon drive away still haunted him. It had all worked out for the best, with Gideon and the children safe, and she hadn’t mentioned it since, or the fact that he’d grabbed her hand. 

He still didn’t know exactly why he’d done it—he’d just acted without thinking, something he was summarily unaccustomed to doing.

She’d knocked on his door an hour after they’d gotten back to the motel, holding up a worn pack of cards with a sheepish smile. 

“I don’t know if you were planning on turning in but I just thought I’d see if you wanted to play a couple hands.” 

 She’d already been in her pajamas—a pair of flannel bottoms and an oversized Harvard sweatshirt that reached almost to her knees. They played a few rounds of poker sitting cross-legged on his bed before he noticed that she’d tampered with the deck. 

“I shuffled two decks together at random and then split ‘em so you can’t count cards,” she’d said, fighting a smile. She gave up, giving him a self-satisfied grin that wrinkled her nose.

“That’s cheating.”

“It’s cutting the Gregorian knot. You didn’t specify we had to play with a standard deck. Now at least it’s even.”

They’d stayed up well into the early hours of the morning, card games devolving into Cassie trying to teach him to throw cards (which explained the worn edges of her deck). He hadn’t been able to get the hang of it, even though he’d calculated the ideal angle of release. 

“How’d you even decide to learn this?” He’d asked, flinging his half of the deck down on the bed while she continued knocking down the little paper targets they’d made from the motel memo pad.

“I had a foster brother who could throw them so hard he could draw blood. So I made him teach me.”

“How old were you?”

“Maybe eleven?”

He’d yawned then without meaning to and she’d leapt up, sweeping the cards into a pile and excusing herself so he could get some sleep. He wished she’d stayed, wished she’d kept talking about her delinquent foster brother. It was the first time she’d talked about her past without the sadness creeping in behind her eyes, without brushing it off and redirecting the conversation. 

Derek drew him out of his thoughts, plopping down next to him on the couch. 

“You keep staring at her seat.”

“It’s right across from me.”

“I think the Boy Genius has a little crush.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, pulling a book from his bag. “Not likely. We’re just friends.”

“Friends who hold hands?” Derek asked, raising an eyebrow as he smirked. Spencer felt his whole face turn bright red and glanced around the cabin to make sure no one else was paying attention. Luckily for him most of the team seemed to be asleep or listening to headphones. 

“That’s not—she was scared about Gideon going off with Frank. I was just trying to comfort her.”

“See, all that can be true and you could have a crush on Lil’ Miss Morticia.”

“That is not—We’re just friends and I’m not going to do anything to screw that up. She had a rough day, I was just trying to be nice.”

Derek settled back in his seat, still grinning at him. “I think you should go for it, man. It’d be good for both of you. I could give you some pointers—“

“I’m fine. I’m happy with the friendship we have.”

Derek’s teasing grin fell, leaving him with a sincere look instead. “I’m not teasing you, at least not about the fact that I think you two would be good for one another.”

Spencer dropped his gaze to his lap, wishing that he wasn’t so transparent, or he wasn’t surrounded by profilers. He was just glad no one else was paying attention to his mortification. 

“I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

His voice was so quiet he wasn’t even sure if Derek was able to hear him. 

---

Cassie crossed to her nightstand to pick up her ringing cell, wrapping her hair in a towel as she went. She glanced at the caller ID before flipping it open with a smile.

“Hey Spencer."

“How much longer are you going to be stuck out in Nevada?”

“Another week maybe? Hotch wants me to make sure everything is catalogued just in case there’s some clue to where Frank and Jane might be heading.”

“A week? Well, that answers my next question.”

“Which was?”

“If you’d want to go see The Science of Sleep on Friday.”

Cassie sighed. “I still have a quarter of the property left to comb through. Maybe we can raincheck?”

“Did you know that rain checks were originally a voucher given to baseball patrons at a rained out game?”

“I didn’t.”

“Maybe we can see it next week.”

“Cross your fingers we don’t catch a case. How’s everything back in Quantico?”

“Same as ever. We had a minor case out in Maryland but it only took two days.”

“God, what I wouldn’t do about now to get out of this god forsaken desert. I never really thought about how cold it gets at night.”

“Yeah, I never really had to worry about that growing up. The coldest it gets in Vegas is about low 40s.”

“I didn’t know you grew up in Vegas.”

“How’d you think I got so good at cards?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Honestly, I just figured it was like everything else. Why wouldn’t you be utterly infuriating at them?”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“Take it however you want,” she said, though she couldn’t hide the warmth in her voice. There was silence on the other end for a few moments as Cassie propped her feet up on the windowsill of her hotel room, looking out over the warm ochres of the sands. The desert was beautiful in a barren, alien sort of way, would be all the more so if she hadn’t spent the last week and a half excavating shards of human remains. 

“I—We miss you. It’s too quiet at work without you.”

“Lies,” she said, though she couldn’t help the smile that pulled at her lips. “I’m the quietest one in the bullpen.”

“Yeah, but you know how to get a rise out of the rest of us. I figured that out after the first week had a supreme lack of whimsical debates. Plus now there’s no one sitting across from me who just blurts out utterly disgusting things at random.”

“Are you still mad about the corpse wax?”

“Of course I’m still mad about the corpse wax! You brought it up while we were eating lunch.”

“I hadn’t thought of it before, it’s usually more of an archeological consideration. And it’s not that gross—“

“I’m going to stop you right there because I know whatever else you’re going to say will be absolutely revolting and I’d like to eat dinner.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Who’s the liar now?” He asked, and she could hear the smile in his voice. She could practically see him pacing in his apartment, his overlong hair tucked behind his ears, probably wearing one of his oversized college sweatshirts he liked to curl up on the couch in after work. 

If he only knew what kind of liar she really was. 

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