#if nothing else it's nice to be getting my hands dirty again so to speak

[krawdad]

Okay I see why dorodangos are priced the way they are

[lovemebutleavemewild]

Johnny brings you to base for inspection by his superior officer.

When Johnny brings you to meet his friends on base, you're a little nervous, sure, but it's nothing you can't handle.

Of course, military men are brash, but they're nothing on your Johnny, and when they make their jokes, you're more than able to give back as good as you get.

But then Johnny tells you it's time to meet Ghost.

"My lieutenant, hen. My boss."

And you think that's why he sounds nervous, that he wants to impress the man, so you go with him to his office, knock and are told to come inside.

Find it very sexy when Johnny stands to attention in front of the man, actually.

Ghost is ... something else and you don't want to ruin anything for Johnny by ogling, but ... you've always had a thing for masks and dominating men, so seeing your own man submit to another is doing things to you.

"This her?" the man asks, jerking his head at you.

"Yes sir," Johnny says, not moving, even as his superior stands and comes around the desk to lean against it. He clicks his fingers at you.

"Here. Now." You blink and look at Johnny, not sure how to respond to being talked to like a dog, but he doesn't say anything.

Suddenly the man on the desks stands to his full height and strides towards you, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him.

"Don't look at him. I gave you an instruction,"  he almost snarls. "Do y'know why you're here?"

You shake your head jerkily, suddenly sure that "to meet Johnny's friends" is not the right answer.

"Well, Johnny here kep' on about his new pretty bird and I decided I had to check things out, make sure you were good for him. Told him to bring you right in for inspection."

"In-inspection?" you squeak. Ghost leans down so he's looking at you directly through the slits in his mask.

"Said you wouldn't mind. Said you were his dirty girl. Tha' right'?"

And the thing is, Johnny has called you that before and nothing gets you going more. It's no different now. So you just nod dumbly, seeing the edges of his mask lift when he smiles.

He leans back against the desk, leaving you alone in the middle of the room.

"So strip."

And you do, pulling your jumper over your head and slipping out of your shoes, tights, skirt. You're wearing a matching bra and panties, had some vision of what you and Johnny would do when you got home.

Ghost circles you slowly.

"Hmm, nice lil' set," he says, pushing his finger under the strap of your underwear and letting it go so it snaps back against your leg.

"But not very good at following instructions," he rumbles. "Told you to strip, darlin'. Why'd you stop?"

You shiver and, with shaky hands, undo the clasp of your bra, letting it fall to the side. Finally, you push your underwear down, stepping out of them.

Ghost watches you, eyes unfathomable. Then he speaks again.

"Bend over the desk."

When you do, he leans over you, letting his hand run down your side and over your ass.

He tuts.

"No marks, Johnny? Not even one little bite?"

His hand flashes up suddenly and comes down hard on your ass, making you gasp. He leans over you, front pressed to your back so he can reach your ear with his mouth.

"We better fix that."

[urinarythreatinfection]

Idea popped into my mind one night so i had to write it down because i couldn't focus on anything else..

RUFF!

Various x GN!reader (Shanks, Zoro, Luffy) Small dirty joke in Shanks's but overall fluff.

Shanks

Your boyfriend has always been expressive, saying how much he loves you and how sexy and hot you are. The rare times he isn’t is when he feels vulnerable or truly stressed, when he tries to not show any emotion to avoid showing stress. It’s rare though, most of the time he’s almost like a dog. You can almost see his tail wagging when he hugs or kisses you. Though right now, you really do swear that you can see a tail. Him and Beckman are speaking, Shanks’s dog ears pushed back slightly to show nervousness. “Shanks?” You call out to him and they perk up while his head turns to look at you.

“Baby!” His tail wags until he remembers the situation and it stops, ears pushing back again. “Uhh..”

“He got hit by a devil fruit.” Beckman says and you almost sigh in relief, so you weren’t going insane. “I had told him to be more careful but he was adamant that it was fine because even if he got hit it ‘wouldn’t do anything harmful’”

“This isn’t harmful! I’m perfectly fine~” Your captain dismisses it and you walk over to him, placing your hand out to see how far this transformation is.

“Paw.” Shanks looks at you and immediately puts his hand on yours.

“Ah-” He stutters and takes his hand off, looking away.

“Spin.” Beckman goes next and Shanks twirls, getting embarrassed afterwards.

“Stop, I get it, I get it. I shouldn’t have been hit.” He puts his hand on his face, tail drooping as he licks his lips like an anxious dog.

“Cute, I actually think I like this quite a lot.”

“You do?” His tail lifts up and you nod, then hold your arms out so he can come to you; which he does gladly. His arm wraps around you while his tail wags, then it slows down like he thought of something sad. You’re confused for a moment then get an idea of what it is, leaning down to kiss his stump then his cheek.

“Handsome boy, your hugs are always my favorite in the whole world~” You hug him tighter and he brightens, kissing all over your face while his tail wags like crazy… until he knocks you over. Doesn’t stop his kisses though.

“Honey~” He sniffs you then buries himself in your neck. It looks like his excitable traits have been heightened by this transformation.

…

“..Are you hard?” Maybe too much.

Zoro

You stare down at Zoro, your boyfriend, sitting in front of you with Luffy to the side. He has dog ears and a tail, looking away in shame. “I can’t believe you tried to slice it.”

“It-” He’s about to yell but you glare at him and he goes back to avoiding eye contact. “It looked like I could’ve.” Zoro got a beam shot at him by a devil fruit user and instead of dodging like a regular person he had tried to slice it, which did nothing as it wasn’t physical. Maybe if he put real effort into it he could’ve parried it but, being cocky, he just assumed it would be easy to slice and that was that.

“You didn’t even know what the fruit could’ve done, we’re lucky it’s basically harmless.” You watch him and his ears slowly push back more, guilty.

“Hmm, I like it! You’re like an actual guard dog now!” The captain says and Zoro frowns. Usopp, tinkering with something in the background, cracks up with you and subsequently gets Zoro to growl at him.

“Hey they laughed too!” The sniper complains after flinching, quickly going back to what he was doing when Zoro growls at while showing his now sharp canines. Laughing isn’t worth his life.

“Be nice.” You reach over and pet his head, scratching his scalp. Zoro’s eye closes as one of his legs starts to bounce. “Aww, feel good?” You scratch behind one of the dog ears and it bounces faster. Sanji walks past while heading to the kitchen and your boyfriend suddenly jumps up and grabs your wrist, pulling you to his side and growling at the cook like an actual guard dog.

“Shit!" He flinches, getting annoyed since he wasn't even gonna do anything. "Growling at me like you're threatning. Maybe this fits you though, you always did stink like a dog.” He provokes Zoro and the swordsman attacks him.

“Stop!” You yell and he freezes, barely dodging a kick.

“Don’t do that in the middle of a fight!” He barks at you.

“Woahh!” Luffy’s immediately interested, his eyes twinkling as he goes next. “Zoro, sit!” The swordsman sits while Sanji slyly smiles.

“Maybe we should give you a dog name, like Mossy.” Zoro clenches his jaw but stays seated. “Come here, Mossy, c’mon, paw!” Sanji holds out his hand and Zoro stands up while putting his swords away. “Huh, it worke-” He headbutts the cook. Doggy only takes orders from you and his captain.

Luffy

It’s a nice day, you were walking around with your friend and boyfriend on an island when you got tired; so now you’re relaxing in the sun for a nap. You’re falling asleep when you suddenly feel hands on your shoulders, opening your eyes to see Luffy barrelling towards you, slamming onto you before you can react which makes you knock down onto your back. “(Y/n)!!!” He yells happily and suddenly starts to lick your face. You push him back but before you can say anything you see dog ears on his head, a tail wagging behind him.

“Luffy? What happened?” You’re confused, are you still half asleep?

“I wanted to see you!”

“Not that, hun.” You point at his ears and he tilts his head before realizing.

“Oh! Got hit by something. Not a big deal though it doesn’t hurt.” You can tell it doesn’t hurt considering his behavior. You hear Nami next.

“Luffy, I told you… not to run off!” The navigator says angrily, panting from trying to keep up with the captain. He looks back at Nami, still attached to you, then starts to pant and noms your cheek.

“Yer choo shlow.” His voice is muffled with your cheek in his mouth, doesn’t hurt but it’s uncomfortable and he only gets off when you pry him off. He lands onto the ground while you wipe saliva off your face. “I missed you!” He jumps up, tail wagging.

“We just saw each other not too long ago Lu, I just wanted to nap.” You get most of the saliva off your face though you’ll have to wash it later.

“I still missed you, though…” He thinks for a moment. “More than usual too, weird.” Not one to care about specifics, he gets over it fast. “Well whatever, did you miss me too?”

“...Yes I missed you too.” Luffy’s too cute to refuse, especially when he gets so happy.

“Yahoo!” He starts to get zoomies, running around excitedly while his tail wags quickly. You look at Nami who sighs.

“It was other pirates, he got hit because he started complaining about being hungry.” She explains with a sigh, putting a hand on her face from stress.

“Well he looks okay, we should get him to Chopper just in case.” You look at your boyfriend who’s still running around. “Luffy, come here!” He just stands still for a moment, looking at you, before continuing to zoom. “Luffy…” He stands there but dodges and runs away when you try to grab him, doing the same as you continue to try.

“You gotta catch me!” He’s making a game out of this, happy playing with you. In the end he ended up listening less as an overly excited dog.

[raitonsfw]

𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝 '𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 | 𝚍𝚊𝚣𝚊𝚒 𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚞

synopsis: Dazai has gifted you many things in the years that you’ve known him. Jewelry, books, clothes, lingerie… Anything that he thought suited you. When you wear one of his gifts to the agency without thinking, it was just supposed to be another day at work. But little did you know that the reason why Dazai bought you the black dress was that it was for his eyes and his eyes only. And not to mention the matching set that you wore underneath it practically sparkled in the luminosity of the office.

warnings: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, smut, exhibitionism, embarrassment, lingerie, fingering, dirty talk, teasing, slight degradation, dazai's a little mean, petnames (sweetheart, baby, darling, dear), use of honorifics.

a/n: dazai basically fingers the reader on the train ride home cuz he just couldn't wait. my friend gave me this idea and it was so fun to write. nice to write fem!readers again after writing character ships for so long. defs needed a breather. wc: 2.2k. m.list

divider credit: @benkeibear

The train wasn’t too busy, though to you it seemed like everyone and their mother took this exact train in order to spite you. You don’t know why Dazai had insisted on taking the train from the agency today, the hurriedness of it confusing you even more. Normally the both of you would walk the streets of downtown Yokohama in order to get home, stopping to sightsee and shop a bit along the way. Sometimes he’d buy you dinner on the edge of the river, other days he’d bring you to your favorite bookstore.

But today he was absolutely restless to get home, with quicker footing than usual and a hush to his voice. You were filled with concern because of this. He was never quiet, the boy was like a walking radio to you as he’d chatter (or sing) away the afternoon about anything and everything. When you both reached the station and past the people that crowded it, his lips were bitten red and he kept a hand pressed against your lower back, ushering you into the train carefully.

Fortunately for you, you both had ended up on the last train where barely anyone sat. Most of the people you had pushed through earlier sat up near the front of the train car and onwards, filling the spaces with awkward silence. Dazai snagged a seat to your left, next to the divider of the sliding doors. He leaned into it as the train made its way down the tracks, crossing his leg over his other with his hands folded neatly in his lap.

“Dazai-san, are you okay?” You asked, your voice a bit dry as you hadn’t spoken much since you left the agency. Putting a hand on his thigh to soothe his bouncing leg, he turned to you with a slight flinch but quickly registered your hand’s warmth and gave you a small grin.

“Never been better,” Dazai said, the fakeness of the smile evident. “Why do you ask?”

“You’ve seemed quieter than usual.”

“I just can’t wait to get home.” He sighed out gently, whimsicality etching his tone.

One of his hands had come to rest on yours and he rubbed it lovingly. He seemed calmer than before, but something was still bothering him. You decided to backtrack the day in your head; you two didn’t do much today at the agency.

You had looked over some of the papers Kunikida had assigned to you, ran a small errand with Atsushi, and watched Dazai successfully manage to steal a sweet from Ranpo without him knowing. Nothing else out of the ordinary stuck out to you and you frowned a little, still unsure as to why Dazai was being so weird.

“You can tell me if something’s bothering you.” You frowned at him and it looked like he almost caved, his mouth falling open to speak. But you second guessed yourself as he shut it quickly, his eyes falling past your lips.

Something was bothering him, but he didn’t have the heart to tell you. He didn’t have the heart to tell you that the dress you put on exposed your lingerie in the most discreet of places. The agency’s lights did you no justice, making the crimson colored set pop out underneath the dusky sheerness of your dress. Perhaps if he had been walking behind you in the evening glow of the sun, he would’ve had to fuck you behind a bush on the way home.

No one else noticed it, too preoccupied in their work to even give you a glance other than to say hi and if they did...well Dazai would’ve known. He watched you like a hawk all day, making sure no one mentioned it to you, partially in fear of embarrassment but mostly because he didn’t want you to change.

But yeah, something was bothering him and that was his dick.

The entire day he was hard, was aching for you to look at him and realize what you did to him. He curled up in the corner of the couch with his knees almost pressed to his chest, hiding the bulge as much as he could for most of the day. But you were too busy to pay attention to him being the hell of a worker you are; of course you couldn’t possibly have noticed his predicament– the predicament you caused.

Not even when he pulled his overcoat over his lap when you talked to him about past missions, you didn’t bat an eye. Not when his sentences faltered a few times during a meeting with Fukuzawa, did you even think to ponder why. And definitely not when he dashed off to the restroom more than a few times (only to come back with a bit of an attitude), did you realize that you were the cause of his pressing situation.

He couldn’t quite catch a break today, could he? You walked into the office, knowing damn well he gifted you that dress with a mischievous smirk plastered on his face. He even wrapped the bow on the gift box neatly, paired it with little explicit intent that it was for him. And not to mention that matching set you were wearing, also courtesy of his lust for you. The red lace peeked out just enough from the cut of the dress and he had to hold back the gasp that left his mouth when he recognized what lingerie set it was. You were decked out in his finest picks, innocently running around the office with papers falling from your arms whilst sucking up to Kunikida’s hellish requests.

“Y/N-san, you wore the dress I bought for you.” He pointed out, a bit uncertain of how to explain to you that it was sheer. “It’s beautiful on you.”

Your face lit up at the compliment. “I am! To be honest, I had nothing else to wear and I decided this would be a nice change. Instead of my regular pantsuits.”

“Would I be an asshole if I tell you it’s see through?” Dazai decided to come straight out, chuckling lightly. He watched your face fall and he immediately regretted telling you. Maybe he should’ve waited until you guys got home.

“No way, it’s not!”

“And that red number you’ve been wearing is...” He continued in a seductive whisper, leaning closer into you. “Why do you think I bought it, sweetheart?”

“I wore it in front of the entire agency, Dazai-san!” You hissed out, the embarrassment reddening against your neck and you attempted to hide it beneath the collar of the dress. No wonder he gawked at you the entire day, no wonder he stumbled through his sentences, no wonder he rushed you to the train station, no wonder he-

“Oh, please. Someone would’ve told you if it was extremely noticeable.” He could turn this around. He was an expert at that, his fingers tracing up your delicate sleeve. Dazai brought your hand to his lips and pressed a light kiss on the back of it, his eyes louring as he looked at you from his peripherals. “On the other hand…I wish I told you sooner.”

“I’ve been holding back all day as you dumbly walked around the office like you damn near owned it." His right hand slipped underneath your dress, latching onto your thigh. “Thought of so many positions I could fuck you in…if only the supply closet was enough for you but you hate dark places. Maybe the president would’ve let us leave early, then I could’ve bent you over the-”

“Not so loud.” You shushed him, trying hard not to relinquish yourself to the warmth against your thigh. It was too late though, your arousal had you wrapped around his pretty little finger, yearning for more.

Dazai dropped your hand on his lap, pulling it over the bulge of his trousers. You palmed lightly at it without much thought, feeling the curve of his erection within its confines. “Look what you did to me, baby…Had me almost humping my hand with how good you looked. Not like you cared though since you were so busy with Atsushi-kun today.”

He huffed out a small whine as you pulled your hand away quickly, peeking around the corner to see if anyone saw his action. Everyone was still peering towards the front of the train car, idly scrolling through their phones or listening to music that was much too loud in the ear. The divider covered almost all of Dazai’s lap, a basic blind spot, but you were still nervous.

The feeling of his fingers grasping against your inner thigh shot you from your thoughts as they mingled upwards to the heat of your cunt. You were already dizzy with excitement but this couldn’t happen. Not in such a public place, the strangers amongst you would definitely hear your soft whimpers. Though the thought of that made you see stars, the adrenaline rushed in your blood and directly down to the pit of your abdomen. The heat pooled there, lingered as his lithe fingers pulled at the thin lace covering your clit.

“There’s people at the front of the train, we can’t just-” You whispered, trying to move away from his hand but he had already felt the wetness that collected against the naughty material. His fingers pushed through you delicately and you shuddered at the feeling, a quiet gasp leaving your mouth.

“I don’t think I can wait anymore, darling.” He pleaded quietly in your ear, nipping at the soft shell of it. He left a kiss behind your ear and gave you a small hush as a whine got stuck in the back of your throat. “If it makes you feel better, I can lay my coat over you.”

You nodded quickly and mere seconds later, his discarded coat was thrown over top of you to shield the neighboring passengers. His hand found its way back between your legs, in the exact position he had it before and you brought the sleeve of his coat up to your mouth to muffle your moans.

“D-Dazai-san…” You breathed out as his ring finger circled your clit whilst his pointer and middle plunged into you with no remorse. He kept a shallow pace, thrusting in and out slowly to avoid extra noise (though he wouldn't have minded hearing the way your slick sounded as you became wetter with each press of his fingers). His other hand held his phone out in front of you on your lap, scrolling mindlessly through social notifications– to distract the people around you. In case you got caught. Sneaky bastard.

“Look at what Kunikida-kun posted today on our website! He’s so savvy, isn’t he?” He beamed at you and you couldn’t even respond back, pleasure swirling around in your head as Dazai continued fucking his fingers into you. Changing his pace to unabating pressure that nestled against your clit, you squirmed in your seat. Your legs threatened to close against his arm but you forced them to stay open, near silent whimpers pouring from your mouth.

Dazai wanted to hear them, those pretty moans that he forced from you, but he picked pretty bad timing to teeter you off the edge of pure ecstasy. He loved the way you clenched tightly around his fingers as he found your sweet spot– your face contorted with a slight furrow to your eyebrows and you panted into his coat sleeve like it was your source of oxygen.

“Looks like there’s rain tonight, guess we can’t go on that walk anymore.” He pouted innocently and you felt your nerves screaming at you– faster, closer, so close you squeezed your eyes shut harshly at the growing pleasure. A moment later, you were falling apart against his fingers, desperate to keep quiet as your whole body shuddered in his palm. Your whole body tensed up as you let out a rather loud moan, much louder than you thought, though it was talked over by Dazai’s glorious distraction. He didn’t stop moving as you fluttered around his fingers and you gripped onto his bandaged wrist with a weak hand.

He slipped them out of you as you calmed down, a quiet sigh resonating through the fabric of the coat. You felt him wipe them off against the inner material of it and he stood up, stretching his arms up. Throwing on his coat smugly, he looked at you and offered his hand out. “Our stop’s coming up, dear.”

You knew you’d look like a deer in headlights if you stood up, still flushed from moments before. You took his hand though, wobbling as you gained your footing while the train decreased in speed. As you smoothed your dress down you remembered the reasoning why this all happened and you cleared your throat, a sheepish smile coming to light in the corners of your mouth.

“Let’s get you home quickly before the rain comes.” Dazai said as the train halted to a stop, the doors sliding open. He moved you in front of him, his palm flush to the small of your back again. As you stepped off the train, he leaned down to the shell of your ear to murmur something.

“Keep the dress on for me when I fuck you properly.” Just a reminder what’s his and his only.

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

[vamphrrr]

Hi!! i loved your tough love fanfic of clarisse! so i decided to ask if you can make a clarisse la rue , (aphrodite child) reader, but she’s not some normal teenager… she’s a princess if you get what im saying??? lets say that aphrodite dated a princess and had a child with him before she left, and so that’s where reader grew up, no one knew that the reader was a princess u til she told clarisse, she was really worried clarisse was gonna hate her but clarisse is like “Woah me mad at you? no way” and clarisse supports her! (Including some kissing, flirting, it would be super nice if the reader was shorter the clarisse probably up to her chest like in the tough love fanfic!)

notes ; omgggg this is so cute!! i’m so glad u liked my last fic i was nervous about posting 😭. also i’ll be making clarisse call reader princess too now knowing SHE IS ONE! they’re already dating in this. i used the same banner bc i’m too lazy to create new ones based on plot LMAO. i wrote this so soon but sometimes if anyone requests it might take me a couple of days bc of school and stuff! think i went a little overboard with this one. i should probably start counting how much i write lol.

%% are you mad?

in which your super attractive girlfriend finds out the secret you’ve been hiding from her for so long. also, she accidentally meets your dad.

— clarisse la rue x f!aphrodite!reader

warnings ; reader has doubts, tall & buff clarisse / short reader (again), flirty!clarisse flirty!clarisse, a little angst?, kissing, two swear words, flustered reader (oh how the turned tables), ooc clarisse? (i’m never sure if i write her right), one suggestive thought in the first paragraph (nothing happened tho!). a little too much background i think… too much father, did my daddy issues come out? made reader’s dad a king bc plot reasons, maybe more emotional than requested srry😭

You couldn’t believe you were doing this. Sneaking off from your girlfriend’s warm bed in the middle of the night. For a minute, you wondered how’d that look to anyone watching. A girl hastily running from a cabin that she very obviously did not belong in, a long shirt —it was Clarisse’s— accompanied by small shorts, (which were not visible might you add). Oh and how could you forget, you were barefoot. Who’s bright idea was that? Oh, yeah, yours. Why?

Gods were you cold. Should’ve brought a jacket, you thought.

The bottom of your feet hurt, stepping on rocks and sticks and who knows what else would do that to you. Next time, you would definitely bring hiking boots or something. And a jacket. In the forest, you were far away from anybody that might disturb you. Pulling Clarisse’s shirt up until your shorts were visible, you dug your hand inside the pocket, meeting with a drachma. You approached the round well, splashing water mist being met with sunlight from below, creating a rainbow.

How? It was the middle of the night. Why was the sun inside? You decided not to think about it.

This well was old, dirty from not being used much. See, not many people knew about it. Apparently, it was for those that needed to talk to somebody reallyyyy privately, that’s why it was hidden in the forest, only appearing at night. You weren’t sure how that worked, but you stumbled upon it a couple of years back when you were being chased by wood nymphs for being out at night. They found you, obviously. Punishment was not escapable and you ended up having to clean the stables the day after you got your nails done. Yuck.

Now here you were again, this being the only place where you could speak to your father without anyone finding you. It’s not that you were embarrassed of him per say, it was that you really didn’t want anyone to know that you were a royal. I mean, how ironic was that? A daughter of Aphrodite, a Princess? Forget it. You’d get made fun of for the rest of your life. You especially didn’t want Clarisse to know. She was your girlfriend yes, and this was something very important that you needed to tell her about, but you weren’t sure how’d she react. You knew she wouldn’t make fun of you like others would, but you didn’t know if dating a literal Princess was too much of a deal breaker for her.

Being with a royal was too stressful, there was so much that they’d get criticized for and so little people that they’d be accepted by. Your dad was a King with many past lovers, Aphrodite included. The people loved her, I mean, who wouldn’t? But then she was gone, disappearing the same night she gave birth to you. Your dad knew of her, of this. He knew she’d be gone by the time the sun rose. Yet, he did nothing. Who was he, than just a mortal man? He could not stop a goddess from leaving.

He got with others after that, your dad had a lot of love to give. Maybe that was something that attracted your mother to him. Public lovers were not taken well, the people respected the King, sure, they just didn’t respect his partners. Constant judging, constant eyes following their every move, constant hatred being thrown, constant stress on their shoulders. In the end, they could never take it. Running away or completely disappearing seemed to be something they all had in common. Your father had to give up on love, small secret romances blossomed for a while, but never enough for it to go public.

That is why you were so scared to tell Clarisse of your status. She was smart, she’d realize being with you would not be worth the hassle. She’d leave you just like everyone else left your father. Clarisse was the love of your life, you don’t think you’d be able to handle it if she left.

You threw the drachma in, calling for the rainbow goddess to let you see your father.

“Dad,” you said, once the back of his head was visible.

He jumped, turning around. “Oh! My dearest daughter, you scared me.” He laughed a bit, looking at you with such soft eyes it almost made you cry. “Why are you Iris messaging me at this hour? Isn’t it time for you to be resting?”

You swallowed, a sudden knot appearing in your throat. “I just needed someone to talk to.” Playing with the ring around your finger that Clarisse gave you for your one year anniversary, you choked out. “I have this amazing girlfriend, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me here at camp and—” You stopped talking, taking a small breath, not noticing the familiar figure of Clarisse standing a couple of feet behind you. “—and I’m scared to tell her that I’m not who she thinks I am. That I’m not this girl that just so happens to be a daughter of Aphrodite. I love her so much and I want to tell her about you. I want to bring her to you in person because I want the two people I love the most to meet. But how do I do that when I haven’t even told her I’m a Princess and that the only way you two could meet is if I took her to our royal palace?”

Your father widened his eyes, not expecting his little girl to burst out her feelings just like that. He sighed, glancing behind your shoulder. “If this girl you love so much really loves you like you do her, she wouldn’t care about your status.” Staring at who he assumed was your girlfriend behind you, he continued. “She wouldn’t care that you hid this from her. Instead, she’d try to see it from your point of view.” Moving his eyes away from Clarisse, he looked at you, eyes squinting in light mischief. “You should tell her, she’ll understand. I love you.” Is all he said, before he was gone.

You’re left staring at a rainbow, your dad nowhere in sight. Suddenly, a branch broke from behind you. Turning around quickly, heart beating rapidly, you’re met with the eyes of your girlfriend. You immediately let out a gasp, not knowing she was there.

Clarisse speaks up. “You’re a Princess?”

You felt your mouth dry up. With wide eyes, you respond. “Please don’t hate me! I didn’t know how to tell you!” Walking closer to her, you reached your hands out, grabbing one of her own with both of yours. “Please, you have to understand. I didn’t want this to ruin us.”

She stayed silent.

Silence was haunting, especially coming from Clarisse, someone who was always provoking people and boasting loudly everywhere. You gulped, with lips shaking you asked, “A-are you mad?”

She lets out a huff. Was something funny? Was she annoyed? Angry? Did she not care at all? Those were the questions running through your mind. You’d find out the answers soon enough.

“Woah,” she shook her head, letting you see the slight amused smile on her face. “Me? Mad at you? No fucking way.” She reached her free hand towards your face, moving away the strand of hair that fell slightly over your eye. “It just… surprised me s’ all.”

You let out a breath, relaxing and putting your head against her chest. “Thank the gods, I thought you were going to break up with me or something.”

Reaching out again, she placed her forefinger below your chin, raising your head to meet her eyes. “How could I ever break up with someone so beautiful?” She leaned down, your lips grazing against each other’s. “Why would I leave when I can now be your knight in shining armor?” Closing the distance, your eyes fluttered shut. Butterflies were in your stomach just like the first time you two ever kissed. Without your lips separating, she put one arm around your waist, the other grabbing below your thighs, hoisting you up.

“Ah!” you screamed, separating your lips, not expecting it.

Clarisse smirked, seeing you get flustered. “You don’t have any shoes on.” You pouted, putting your arms around her neck so you wouldn’t fall while she walked back (not that she would let you fall off in the first place). “Didn’t think I’d notice, did you, princess?” Teasingly, she used the pet name, now knowing how much truth was behind it.

You whined, pressing your face against her neck. “You’re so unfair. I’m supposed to be the one flustering you.”

“Awe, the princess is mad,” she cooed, letting her lips touch the tip of your ear. “You want me to get on one knee and apologize?”

Clarisse laughed when you let out a loud groan, hitting her lightly on the chest. Smiling, she knew the only way she’d ever leave you was if she was six feet under. And even then, she’d find a way to get back to the land of the living just to be by your side.

The only things heard in the dead of night were the grasshoppers, chirping their little melodies into the darkness. That was until you muttered sleepily, letting out a yawn. “I love you.”

Clarisse repeated after you. “I love you.” Feeling your eyes fluttered close, she followed it with an almost silent “goodnight.”

Now that you were asleep, she felt panic slowly rise, steps quickening to reach the Ares cabin faster. She could only think about two things now.

Holy shit, she’s a Princess. Oh my gods, I met her dad.

[theteasetwrites]

Daddy's Home | Part 1

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 5 (Alexandria) ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: SMUT (18+)—oral sex (male receiving), dominant-ish Daryl, doggystyle, so much dirty talk, like one tiny spank (just a little one), mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, oh yeah and DADDY KINK, language ❧ Word Count: 4.3k

❧ Summary: When Daryl comes back home from a week away, he doesn't want to sleep. He just wants you.

❧ A/N: Ok so yes I know the title is ridiculous, but like... what else was I gonna call this oneshot ok? Anyway, here's some major daddy kink. Like a lot of daddy kink. Daryl is just daddy. Sorry but he is. I can't explain it. Actually, yes I can. He's a protector, a provider, a big softie. He's a daddy, and I don't even have daddy issues but just let me have this. Goodbye I am never showing my face here again. <;3 Also I simply cannot get over how hot he is in this gif holy mother of god.

The quiet was nice, late nights in Alexandria, gentle summer breeze prickling at your skin. It was nice to leave your bedroom window open through the night. Daryl hated it, always going on about how someone could climb the trellis outside your window and sneak in while you slept, but when he was gone, you’d indulge yourself in that one simple luxury.

When he told you that he was Alexandria’s newest recruiter, you knew you’d be in for some lonely nights ahead. Still, you also knew Daryl was the best man for the job—you’d seen him bring dozens of people to the prison, providing them shelter while expecting nothing in return, and then going out the next morning to do it all over again. That was when he wasn’t going out on his hunts to find food for everyone, often bringing home the biggest deer you’d ever seen, until he’d do it again next week, and bring home an even bigger one.

Yes, there was no doubt about it—Daryl knew what he was doing out there, but it didn’t stop you from worrying about him. Missing him. So while the quiet was, indeed, nice, you still could not get used to being alone, in this perfect little suburban townhouse, waiting. 

Your waiting became so monotonous, sitting up in your bed and reading another old Agatha Christie novel, that you decided, at length, to migrate downstairs, the living room. When Daryl would come home, you thought, you’d greet him right away. That was how much you were anticipating his arrival. 

One week was nothing, really, but it was the longest you’d been apart since knowing each other, and with the world the way it was, a lot could happen in seven days. A lot of bad, bad things. 

So you flicked on the lamp, snuggled yourself into a knitted blanket, and curled up on the sofa, book in hand as you let out a quiet huff. “Daryl…” you said to yourself, scanning your book to relocate the exact sentence where you left off. “Where are you, you big meatball.”

Your nervous jitters only worsened with the passing hour, your legs shaking involuntarily, your finger tapping on the edge of the book, your toes wiggling nonstop. All you needed was the sound of that bike, that big, stupid bike. That would ease your fretful heart. Well, what would really make you happy was seeing that man of yours, no doubt in need of a shower, but still, your man nonetheless. 

Speak of the Devil, as they say, and he doth appear.

It started out as just a distant hum, perking your ears and making your spine straighten in anticipation. Still frozen, you listened intently. A rumble, now, mechanical and getting louder with each second your heart began to beat faster. At one fateful moment, the roar of the makeshift machine was at its highest volume, and before you could even stand, a bright beam of white light shone through the blinds of the front window. 

All at once, the light and the rumble ceased, punctuated by a low huff, followed by an exasperated grunt. Heavy footsteps plodded along in a familiar pattern—you even recognized the sound of his no doubt mud-caked boots scraping against the edge of the steps leading to the front porch. You could only hope that this time, he’d take the extra precaution of removing his boots before he stepped over the threshold. 

There was a spring in your step, you wrapping the terry cloth fabric of your robe over your chest as you flitted towards the front door. Finally, you stood just a few feet back, your eyes transfixed on the shiny bronze doorknob. Inevitably, a wide grin made your cheeks swell until they almost ached, but the wait was worth it. 

When he came through the door, his head was hanging low, until he felt your presence. Lifting his gaze, he met your great big smile with a smaller one, though the movement of his body betrayed him. The door shut with a strong thud, just before he stepped forward to let his crossbow fall from his shoulder. With a soft grunt under his breath, he buried his nose in the warmth of your shoulder, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. 

For a good while, he stayed like that, only taking in the sensory relief you provided him—your faint scent of rose, your softness, your tender chuckle as your hands rubbed in vertical motions up and down his aching back. Despite the rigidity of his tired muscles, he melted into you, letting himself bask in the comfort you provided him. To hold him like this was nothing short of a ritual between you two, whenever you were apart for long enough to begin missing each other to the point of near grief. 

A man like Daryl—who’d been through so much as he had, who’d seen so much and had still so much room in his heart to give of himself to others—deserved to be held the way you held him. Few people in this world had a heart as big as him, though he did not show it in ways most people would recognize. He showed it in acts of service, in providing for people who could not provide for themselves, in the ones he loved safe. It was what you always adored about him: how he gave of himself, and expected nothing in return. 

“Hey, there, tough guy.” Daryl buried his face deeper into you, now snug in the crook of your neck, where he caught the scent of your perfume, applied much earlier in the day, yet still lingering sweetly. Though you adored how much he clung to you, you longed so much to see his face. Your hands grabbed a hold of either side of his head to lift his gaze to yours. 

As usual, his disheveled hair hung low over his forehead, obscuring one of your favorite features of his—his eyes. Between strips of tattered brown curtains, you could make out the blue-grey hue of his irises. Pushing them back, you smiled again at those deep-set pools of silvery cobalt blue. You always found their mystery to be intriguing. 

“How are you?” you asked, though you knew from the state of him that he must’ve been exhausted. He hadn’t even muttered a word, and yet the more prominent than usual bags under his eyes spoke for him. “You must be tired, hon. Let’s get you in bed.”

But as you turned towards the staircase, a firm grip pulled you back by the wrist, until you were in his arms now, laughing at his sudden burst of energy. Despite your amusement, he did not smile, only looked at you with a heavy, dark gaze, and a lick of his lips.

In your surprise, you hadn’t even noticed that both of his hands were now wrapped around each wrist, so tight that you nearly feared he’d cut off your circulation. 

Something was wrong, had to have been. You’d never seen him so… intense. Of course, Daryl could often be intense, when he was angry especially, but this wasn’t that. Anger was something you could recognize in Daryl. He’d never directed it towards you, but you knew it, and this was something different. 

“Are… are you feeling okay, sweetie?”

Silence, just that gaze holding you hostage, and a heat rising from his body that you could’ve sworn caused a bead of sweat to form on your brow. 

Now he was scaring you. 

“Daryl?” 

Your voice tempted him further. If only you knew just how much he missed you, how much he needed you. A week was too long. A week without you, a week without your touch, a week without your sweet, dulcet voice. And oh, how that voice awoke in him a terrible burning, a conflagration of deadly proportions, a fire that could only be extinguished by the one he loved. 

Entranced by his stare, you hadn’t noticed that he had you pinned against the wall, his strong, heaving chest keeping you there. 

And when he pressed himself against you, you knew. It was obvious, the way he nearly thrusted into you. 

When you realized what he wanted, you felt a wave of relief wash over you: he needed you just as much as you had needed him the past week. From the night he left, you’d not stopped thinking of him, and when you’d turn in your bed to feel for him, and he wasn’t there, the ache for him only worsened. 

There was no way in Hell, though, you were going to initiate sex when he got home. You knew he’d be tired, and a good night’s rest was what he needed before you even thought of asking him to make love to you, but now, with that wild look in his eyes, that hungry snarl in his lip, that flare in his nostrils, that beating of his heart… 

“Oh,” you sighed, your teeth biting back your lower lip as your eyes trailed up and down his body. With your hands finally free, you ran them up his arms, letting them settle on the broad, firm shoulders you loved so much. 

For just a moment, he leaned forward, forehead and tip of his nose meeting yours. With his hardening cock beginning to dig between your thighs, and his vaguely tobacco tinged musk tickling your senses, you could only utter one word. 

A soft, nearly whimpering mewl: “Daddy.”

By the time he got you to the sofa, each of you were already panting, hands moving relentlessly as you both clawed for any part of each other’s body you could get your hands on. Your mouths worked tirelessly, tongues spinning sloppily around the other’s in your haste to finally have each other again. 

When you successfully removed his leather angel-winged vest, you worked on unbuttoning his black shirt, but his hands stopped you. 

“Need your mouth,” he said. 

Leaning back on the sofa with a low grunt, he began unbuckling his belt, while you slotted yourself between his legs, hands massaging his clothed thighs, thick and flexing against your palm. 

When his cock sprang out of its confines, you’d already stripped yourself of your underwear and your robe. In only a transparent silk nightgown, your hips swayed instinctively as you watched his hand begin to stroke himself, up and down the long, thick shaft you’d come to know and love so much. 

“Come ‘ere.” His hands reached out to grab either side of your head, bringing you down to his cock. Panting lips began to drool a bead of saliva down the side of his growing erection. Knowing what he wanted, of course, you took the reddened, swelling tip into your mouth, much to his immediate relief.

“Fuck.” As your mouth slid a little lower, your hand wrapped around the base of his cock. His grip on your hair tightened as his head fell back on the arm of the sofa, a soft breath of your name on his lips. 

Returning to watch you, he lifted your hair into a makeshift ponytail, tilting his head to get a better look at you, your eyes fluttering up to meet his gaze.

“Pretty angel.” Even just the utterance of that affectionate pet name made you feel an overwhelming need to touch yourself. With your free hand, you lifted your nightgown to slot your fingers between warm, velvety folds of aching flesh. “Ya look so good like this… Suckin’ on Daddy’s cock.”

It was somewhat of a tradition now, using that phrase, though only in the context of sex, in your most private, intimate moments. It was silly, you knew it, and he knew it, too, but you both found it excruciatingly sexy all the same. It was sacred in that you’d probably die of embarrassment if anyone else besides Daryl knew of your little… kink.

But neither of you could quite help it, you adoring his strong, protective nature, and him just finding it so alluringly sinful. Guilty pleasure type of thing, with emphasis on pleasure.

And besides, his dirty talk was sex all on its own. 

As your mouth took him in progressively deeper, your fingers moved faster, increasing the friction against your sensitive spot, then slowly dipping down into the embrace of your entrance. 

Not only could he admire your mouth, and your sweet soft moans, but he could watch your fingers enter you, your hand shaking as you penetrated yourself to match the rhythm you knew he liked when he had his cock in you.

“Love when you fuck yourself like that.” He only wished he was the one doing it. “You thinkin’ of me?”

Well, it was hard not to think of him, with his cock in your mouth. 

Taking the opportunity to catch your breath, you answered him. “Yes, Daddy.”

His hands pulled you back down onto his cock, your lips forced open by his tip. “Just don’t make yourself come,” he said. “That’s for me.”

Yes, Daddy. 

Sliding over your tongue, his cock dug deeper, towards the back of your mouth. Going down on him was always a bit of a challenge, given just how big he was, but the weight of him inside you, wherever that may be, was far more rewarding. And when you got to feel that little twitch, his cock moving all on its own as it begged for release… It only made you suck harder, sliding your mouth up and down, taking him in deeper until you were nearly gagging. 

But he liked that, the sound of you struggling just a little to take all of him. Daryl was a sensitive man, yes, but he was still a man—proud of his big cock, even if he was insecure in most other areas. At least he was big, and at least he knew how to use it. 

With his hand on the back of your head, firm, but still gentle enough to let you up if you needed it, he pushed you down just a bit more, hearing your gag become more guttural, more strangled. It did not hurt, though. It only turned you on, your fingers curling inside you to tickle that special spot, and your other hand fondling his balls, tightly drawn to the underside of the base of his cock. 

For several moments, the only sounds coming from either of you were your strained groans, his slipping from between his agape lips, yours muffled by his length filling your entire mouth. Between those sounds of pleasure were the sloppy squelches of your lips soaking him with your saliva. You were always so messy when you went down on him, but how could you not be? His cock provided you no room to lick up your drool, stuffing you until your spit had nowhere else to go but down his veiny, hard length.

Of course, he’d have to tease you about it, how sloppy you were. “Messy girl,” he said, his hand gripping your hair to pull back your bangs. You fluttered your eyes open to meet his, and you were greeted by his crooked smile, with just a sliver of those shiny teeth showing. “Gettin’ Daddy all wet, huh? Nice and wet so I can fuck you good.”

Yes, Daddy.

Eyes rolling back slightly, he bucked his hips up with a jolt, your sucking beginning to tip him over the edge. Just in time, too, for your hand was getting tired of rubbing, and you needed him to finish you off.

“F-fuck, angel. Imma need ya to get that pussy ready for me.”

Whatever he wanted, you’d give him. After all, you were his good girl. Always his good girl. You couldn’t think of a time you’d ever been a bad girl for him. Daddy deserved his good girl.

Yes, you were a good girl, but you could still be… needy.

“Oh, Daddy.” Now straddling his waist, your fingers went straight for the first button on his shirt. “Want you.” He loved when you whined, just a little, and when you were so needy for him that you couldn’t quite make out a completely proper sentence. “Want your shirt off.”

He let you undo just a few buttons, exposing the hairs on his chest that drove you crazy, made you want to feel those wiry hairs between your pursed lips as you trailed your kisses all over his broad chest, made so strong and big by all the manual labor he did, and that heavy crossbow he always used. 

That very same strength pulled at your wrists, then raised you up only to lay you down, sprawled out on the other side of the couch. Now he hovered over you, the tip of his cock hanging down to be tickled by the fabric of your blush pink nightie. He always liked pink on you, matched the color of your cheeks when he talked so dirty to you, made you feel like a whore, but not in a disrespectful way. Never in a disrespectful way.

Besides, you knew you were more than that to him. You knew he loved you. Two years together, through some of the most abject pain and suffering imaginable, would do that. But in moments like this, it felt good to be just his personal whore, whom he happened to love very, very much.

Tenderness blossomed between your lips and his, where he kissed you so deeply, so sweetly. And yet, you still clawed at his shirt, your fingers begging for him to let you see his gorgeous body, after so long away from him.

“Shit,” he laughed into your mouth. Sitting up, he began to undo the rest of the buttons, then peeled off his shirt with his chest puffed up, clearly a bit cocky. When your hands shot up to grasp at his pecs, the faded ink of the tattoo above his left nipple having taunted you, he chuckled again.

“Daddy,” you laughed back, your voice a drawn out, dramaticized whine. “Come on.” 

Now you were testing him, and he held back the rest of his laughter to put on a stern, domineering face. “Hey, now. Be a good girl.”

He felt your thighs squeeze together underneath him, and your hips jolting upwards. He knew what you wanted, and he’d give it to you, but this position wasn’t quite right. 

With a breathy grunt, he grabbed you by your waist, flipping you over, then lifting your bottom until it was sticking out at just the right angle. Lifting your nightie, he licked his lips to watch you move your hips from side to side, as if to taunt him. 

“Cute little ass,” he practically cooed. Leaning over you, his chest pressed firmly to your back, he nuzzled his nose against your pillowy cheek. All the while, you felt his hand slide between your now nearly dripping wet folds. Eyes closed softly, you hummed a soft whimper at the feeling. His hands were always different from yours, so much bigger, stronger, rougher. You’d never felt a touch quite like his, and part of it was because he touched you with such tenderness, even if he tried to manhandle you a little. He was still always gentle, somehow.

In the most honeyed, silky, yet scratchy, voice, he rasped in a whisper, “Did ya miss me, angel?” 

“Yes… Daddy, I missed you so, so much.”

“Mm, I missed you, too. So much.”

Finally, you felt his tip just barely graze your hole. Not only was he torturing you, he was torturing himself, but he loved it. He needed it, otherwise he was sure his peak of pleasure would go away just as fast as it would come. With you, in this moment, he needed to prolong the desire as much as he could. He could feel it coming soon, though, that tensing in his muscles, that tingling in the pit of his stomach, that twitching that made his cock seem to bounce against your folds on its own accord. 

As he slid further into you, you felt his lips find the back of your neck, where he left little kisses the more he sank into you. It felt so good to feel him again, that fullness. It was a feeling only he could give you, his unique way of moving, his cock fitting so perfectly inside you. 

Underneath your nightgown, his hands found your breasts. Tense, strong fingers curled like claws at the soft tissue. Even in his dreams, of which he had many while he was away, he could not recreate that texture—that pillowy soft flesh swelling against his fingers. And the inside of you, the warmth and tightness that hugged his cock and accepted him with each pass, in and out. 

Soon, he leaned back to watch your body envelope his, the shiny, milky coating of your arousal making it easier to slip in and out of you, his hips thrusting in ever increasing speed.

“Daddy…” 

God, he loved being called that. Much more than he should’ve. But, then again, he’d probably find you sexy even if you were calling him “dickhead.” He really didn’t mind, as long as you were calling him something. 

“Mm, angel… Daddy’s here now, sweetheart.” He delivered a harder, stronger thrust, pulling a loud, strangled moan out from deep inside of you. “That feel good?”

“Fuck, yes!” 

As if to praise you, he delivered just a small, weak slap to your bum. That was about as hard as he was willing to spank you, given how much he hated the idea of hurting you, but he knew you liked it, and he liked it, too, the clench of your body from the slap making him jolt forward. 

“Takin’ it good… Real good.”

With one hand still squeezing your breast, the other now drawing tight circles over your clit, he made your lips tremble and your muscles tighten as you began to approach the height of pleasure. You could feel it, just on the brink of release. And he felt it, too, which was why he pulled himself out of you, flipping you over again like a ragdoll. 

You were startled when he pulled you down by your ankles, until you were closer to him. He gave his fingers a good, long lick, then let them sink into you, where his cock had left you stretched wide open and dripping wet. 

Three fingers. Three thick, strong fingers, curling up inside you, making you writhe and groan as your hands shot up to grasp at his shoulders. Through half-lidded eyes, you watched his neck bulge with the strain of trying to keep himself from coming, and it only aroused you more—those muscles flexing and throbbing and burning underneath hot, sweat-dripping skin, tanned by days on end out in the sun. 

What he needed so badly was his own release, after so long of working so hard out there, risking his life for the good of Alexandria. As his forearm and biceps flexed with every push of his fingers inside of you, his chest heaved harder and harder, while you reached between your legs to find his cock. With your hand pulling on his length, and your walls clenching around his fingers as your release reached a tipping point, you both would soon be giving each other much needed relief. 

“Daddy,” you sighed, tugging harder on his cock as frustration overtook you. The closer you got to orgasm, the more you couldn’t wait any longer. “Make me come… I wanna come.”

“Ah, angel… I’m gonna come, too.”

Just moments later, you tensed and gasped and writhed and moaned, rocking your hips upward as his fingers stayed inside you, squeezed by your contracting walls. “Oh, Daddy!”

He leaned forward to lay on top of you, his sturdy weight keeping you in place as you rode out your high, soaking his fingers with your arousal. The heat of your cheek seemed to burn his lips as he kissed you there, then rubbed his button nose in delicate circles to soothe you. “Yeah… Daddy’s got ya, sweetheart.”

With your hand still tugging on him, he gasped a heavy breath, spilling out over you right then and there, his hips thrusting into your hand in desperate, sloppy motions. The orgasm was so strong that he lost his composure for a moment, his head falling into your chest as he groaned your name, over and over and over again. 

And now he freed his hand, using it to rub up and down the sides of your torso, your skin like fine silk under his worn, calloused fingers. In his hair were your hands, massaging his scalp the way you knew he liked, until he lifted his head to offer you a gentle smile. 

“Mm, I’ll never get tired of that.”

You tilted your head with a wide grin. “I didn’t think you’d want to do it tonight. I thought you’d be exhausted.”

He breathed a low huff before rolling over onto his side. You did the same, letting him hold you with his chest pressed firmly to your back. There wasn’t much room on that tiny couch, but you made it work. After all, even if you were in bed upstairs, you’d probably still be this close to each other, clinging for dear life, never wanting to be separated again, though you knew someday you’d have to.

“I am,” he said. “Just… I dunno, needed you, s’all.” Observant as he was, he took notice of your shivering, and reached back to grab the knitted blanket that had been draped over the back of the couch. He covered the both of you, then tucked his chin into your shoulder, where it seemed to fit perfectly. “Missed ya so much, could hardly stand bein’ without you.”

Even now, after you thought you’d be used to his sweet words, he still had a way of sending those butterflies aflutter. “Well, now you’re back home.”

That sounded so good to him—back home.

~

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated!

Masterlist

Part 2 (coming soon)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 25

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: last night I finished my paper... mostly. Need to format and cite.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You stare at your hand, then Mr. Laufeyson’s. In contrast, his seems so big. Emblematic of the hold he has on your life. The power you can’t resist. Even if you want to. You don’t know what you want. You don’t know if you’d ever known. You only ever did what you thought was right.

He lets you slip your hand free and you turn it over, looking down at your palm. You trace a line as you feel him watching you. He wants you to speak but what can you say? You’re confused and scared and so, so tired.

“Pet, was I not clear?” He wonders, the gentle lilt frightens you more than his deep commanding timbre.

You think he was. You think you know what he wants. Just like your father accused you. Well, what else are you worth? Not just to him but anyone.

“Can…” your mouth is dry, your eyes are itchy, your head is pulsing, and your body feels hollow. “Can I think about it?”

“Think?” He echoes, “what– how long?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Laufeyson,” you answer thinly, sinking back into the pillows, “I’m dizzy. I don’t feel very well.”

“Dizzy?” He repeats you again. He hums and clasps his hand around his knee, “when’s the last you’ve eaten?”

You shyly glance up. You slant your lips and shrug. You’re uncertain. Does he really care? It hardly matters. You can’t recall when your dad ever bothered about you being fed or happy. Even if it’s pretend, it’s better than before.

“Yesterday, I think,” you twine your fingers together, “last night…”

“Yes, last night was a bit much, wasn’t it?” He tuts, “what about breakfast?”

“I had some tea,” you offer. “I’m not very hungry, just sleepy.”

“You need to eat then, you can’t think on an empty stomach surely,” he insists as he stands, “I’ll fetch a plate.”

“Mr. Laufeyson, I’m fine,” you try to push yourself to the edge of the bed but he’s quick to stop you, catching your shoulder as he nudges you into the pillows.

“No, no, let me show you,” he squeezes then reluctantly rescinds his touch, “I said I would give you anything, yes? Whatever you wish or need. Let me show you that I can and you may better make your decision.”

“It’s really not–” you try to argue but don’t have the energy. Really, you’re too perplexed to come up with any protest. He’s being strangely… nice.

“I mean it, stay,” he orders as he shows his palms, “I won’t be long.”

You just nod. He spins on his heels and marches out. You scrunch up your lips and glance towards the window. It’s later than you thought. The window is dark and the moon shines down in a sliver.

What would it be like to have someone take care of you? Is that what Mr. Laufeyson means? You’re not that stupid. Inexperienced, yes, but he has been blunt. You know what he wants from you but you’re not sure you can offer it. 

Clothes? Jewellry? Shiny things? All those things mean nothing. He can’t give you what you truly want but no one can. And he’s right about everything else. You have no home and whatever he did can’t have made your dad any less angry than he already was.

You close your eyes and exhale. No isn’t an option. It might knot in your chest and tickle your tongue but you’re not sure you can’t utter it. What is the alternative? You’re at the tipping point. Without a job, you can’t afford that hotel bed. Even with one, you’re not sure you can swing it. And there’s all the other expenses; all the things you need and don’t have.

Your head is ready to split in two. You could never be ready for this. You never saw it coming to this. You in Mr. Laufeyson’s bed, weighing your entire life in your hands.

Your eyes roll open as you hear him. The scent of the food precedes him and your stomach rumbles loudly. His brows rise in response as he enters. He has a plate in one hand and a wooden board under the other. He nears and sets the dish on the night table, unfolding the legs of the lap table.

He places it over your legs and moves the plate on top of it. He’s careful not to lose the cutlery in the process. It’s some of the food Frigga left, but not a dish you helped with. Salmon, rice, and a colourful medley of vegetables.

“Something to drink?” He offers.

“Um…” you look at the plate then furrow your brow at him.

“Don’t look at me like that. What would you like?”

You blink. This is strange. It should be you asking him. It should be you running around. It’s backwards. All of it.

“Water is fine.”

“Hm, yes, water, I shall return,” he declares and once more pivots on his heel.

You focus on the food as he goes. You poke the long grains of rice, then a baby carrot. You push it all around before you dare to take a bite. It’s good, very good. Better than boxed macaroni and canned soups.

Mr. Laufeyson appears again. He has a tall glass, weeping with condensation as a lemon floats on top. He sets it on the night table, sure to slip a marble coaster down first. You taste the food intensely, pushing your tongue around as he backs up. He hovers just before the foot of the bed.

You continue to eat. Tediously so. Little bites as you delay the inevitable. He won’t allow you much longer than it takes to clear the plate to give your answer and you’re filling up fast. You still the fork and swallow. You rest the silver on the ceramic rim and take a sip of water. The cold flow gives a small kick.

“What did you do to him?” You ask, voice trembling even as you fight to control it.

He tilts his head and a line ripples above his brows. He cheek dimples as he grips one hip, “whatever do you think I did to the sickly old brute?”

You frown and he puts his head straight. He drops his hand and flutters his fingers. He huffs and paces around the end of the bed, then back again.

“I only gave him a fright,” he grumbles, almost bashfully, “I am somewhat above assaulting an elderly man.”

You stare, not saying a word.

“What? I am,” he snaps, “I only told him to keep his hands to himself. In more words than that.”

You don’t know if you believe him. You want to only because you wouldn’t want to be the reason your dad gets hurt. Even if he’s the reason you are.

“Promise?” You ask.

He clasps his hands together behind his back, “sure. Yes, I swear that I didn’t touch him, right? Just a bit of ominous implication.”

You run your finger along the edge of the plate.

“Tell me you’re not lying, please?”

He’s quiet. He huffs again and taps his toe.

“Why do you care so much? He doesn’t care for you.”

“Just…” you are wilting, you feel your strength dwindling. “Tell me the truth and I’ll say yes.”

He shifts to sit on the bed, just by your legs. He looks at you in the face. You meet his gaze and he doesn’t flinch, “I did not assault him, though it crossed my mind. He had that tube under his nose and wouldn’t stop coughing. It hardly seemed a fair contest. I merely warned him that the next time, I wouldn’t restrain myself.”

“Next time?” You murmur.

“Which there won’t be,” he assures, “because I told the truth, so that is…”

He waits and points at you. You turn your head away. You believe him.

“Yes,” you mutter. “I accept, Mr. Laufeyson…” You bat away another singe of tears, the voice in your head whispering what you won’t say aloud, ‘you win’.

✨

Mr. Laufeyson clears away the dishes and folds up the small table. He leaves you for a time, stirring on the lower level as you listen cautiously. You feel a little better but your eyes are still puffy from crying and your head still has a dull tick. 

You slowly stand, careful not to cause your head to ring, and move around the bed. You slip into the hallway and into the study. Inside, you near the desk and lift the bag onto the chair. You search within until you find your phone, the mostly neglected flip.

You open it and stare at the keypad. You want to call your dad and make sure he’s okay but you know you shouldn’t. You can’t. He wouldn’t answer either way. You know that. The more you think of what he did, the worse it is. Why hadn’t you realised before? There was no way to ever go back home.

“Pet?” Mr. Laufeyson startles you and you shove away the phone. You face him and lean on the corner of the desk. “I made some tea… it’s much too late for work.”

“I know, I…” you still aren’t used to this. It’s so unusual. Mr. Laufeyson’s isn’t a place of leisure or carelessness, it’s for work. “...was checking the time.”

“Late, yes,” he affirms, “chamomile, my mother left some behind.” He raises the steaming mug, “you should lay down.”

“Mmm, yeah, I…” you look away. It’s not so different as it was, is it? You’re still supposed to obey him. He might be gentler but he isn’t asking.

“Would you like a book to read? You may peruse to your pleasure,” he offers and crosses to you, close as he puts the cup on the desk, “I might have a few you may enjoy. Are you fan of Shelley?”

He takes your wrist before you can react. He leads you to the shelf near the middle of the wall as you blink and peek up at him. This is strange. You’ve never seen him like this. Almost excited, as much as he has ever been.

“Poe, of course, I’ve some Lovecraft but I find him repetitive,” he goes on, “perhaps this isn’t an evening for horror.” He’s thinking aloud, “I might have an Austen or two that you may handle. The first editions, I’m afraid, cannot be touched.” He hums as he lets you go and hovers his fingers over the row, “Mansfield Park… hm?” 

He looks at you and you shake your head. You don’t know. You read the same books you read as a kid. The Secret Garden, The Little Princess, and that illustrated version of The Hobbit, the one your dad used to…

“Maybe tomorrow,” you offer, “my head hurts.”

“Fair,” he agrees, “as I said, you should lay down.”

“I know,” you murmur and back away, “I’m just… restless.”

“So drink your tea.”

“Thanks,” you return to the desk and lift the mug, blowing over it as the steam continues to furl above it, “I will.”

“In bed,” he insists.

“I wouldn’t want to spill it–”

“Well certainly you can’t have it near the books,” he reproaches, “so come.”

That’s a command. His tone hardens and you recognise him again. Oh yes, things aren’t so different after all. He’s still in charge.

You nod and do as he says. You carry the tea into the hallway but hesitate at the threshold. Can’t you just go downstairs? No, you’re tired. You continue to the bedroom and place the mug on the same coaster where he’d put the water earlier.

You fold your hands nervously and back away. You approach the window and look out onto the estate. You remember the night you rushed over here, when he’d triggered that alarm. The way he’d been so undone, how he’d grabbed you and babbled those senseless words.

He moves behind you, shifting open drawers, and shuffling around. He doesn’t say a word as your vision blurs the shadows to a sea of uncertainty. The world is distant as you struggle to believe in it. It still feels like a horrible nightmare.

“Pet,” he slithers as he comes up behind you. You flinch as he rests his hands on your shoulders, standing almost flush to you, “your tea grows cold.”

You nod and sidle away from him. He relents, a hand dragging down your arm as he sighs. He watches as you go to claim the porcelain cup. You sit on the edge of the bed and sip. It’s pleasant, not stale like the old tea bags in your own cupboard. Well, that’s not yours anymore.

You wiggle your nose, ready to cry again. It’s like your morning yourself. The old you is dead yet very much sitting there, just as powerless as ever.

“Thank you,” you say as you cradle the cup against your hand, absorbing the heat until it hurts.

“I’ve found some clothing you can sleep in,” he nears and pulls the folded fabric across the bed. A plain button-up and a pair of cotton shorts. “I’m afraid I’m not furnished for you just yet. Tomorrow we will rectify that.”

You thank him again and drown your nerves in the yellow tea. As much as your eyelids tug and your shoulders slump, as heavy as you feel, you’re not sure you will sleep through the churning in your chest. You twitch as he brushes a finger against your cheek and your sight narrows on him.

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either. He caresses down to your chin and tilts it up. He considers you. You feel him appraising you, his eyes drifting away from your face. For a moment, his grip on you firms and his hand slides back so the crook of thumb and index frame your throat. You gulp as he bends over you. He presses a kiss on your forehead, lingering as he inhales your scent.

“Patience,” he mutters as he parts, though you don’t know if he girds you or himself.

He draws away and fixes his posting, rolling his shoulders as he turns sharply. He goes back to the dresser and focuses on the contents of the top drawer. He clucks as he snatches out garments.

“I suppose I should dress for bed too,” he drones flatly, “no doubt…” He snaps the drawer shut, “a long night.”

[delusion-mostly]

Regina George x Reader

Part 3/32

Warnings: kissing 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩, lotta fluff

Word count: approx. 1,500

"There is nothing to talk about?" You laugh out, hiding your irritation in a chuckle.

"No. There is," she grips your hand, "I judged you way too quickly when I wrote that about you. It was our freshman year right after you had asked Karen to the spring fling!"

"And Karen said no? I respectfully said 'okay, I hope you have a great time with whoever you go with'? I don't see the issue?" Your face grows more confused and curious.

"We were freshman. We didn't think that was okay. We hadn't learned that not all gay people had diseases and stuff." You give her a shocked look.

"Wow, okay, you are not making this any better. It took you until highschool to realize gay people weren't dirty?" You give her a sarcastic laugh.

"No! Not what I meant. Oh my god I'm so embarrassed." She covers her face with her hands and you quickly grab her wrists, moving them.

"No. Communicate, George. What do you mean." You look at her, practically piercing her soul to get her to spill.

"We were always told that gay was bad, we live in Illinois, Y/N. The midwest hates that stuff. To keep up looks, I always just went along with it. It's stupid," she continues her rant by standing up and pacing,

"I mean, why do we even have to label who we kiss! I kiss boys, you kiss girls, Karen kisses her cousin, and I don't even know if I would say I'm straight! Can't a girl kiss a girl every now and then without it being a little gay! Why do we have to label it all! Just fucking be you!" She stomps over to the couch and lays her face in a pillow, panting while trying to catch her breath.

"George..." you pat her back, and she sniffles before looking up at you, "you are okay. You are safe. Its okay not to label yourself. Just be a human who kisses other consenting adult humans. You, just like everyone else, do not owe anyone an explanation on who you choose to be with."

"I was such an asshole to you for no reason Y/N. I owe everyone an explanation for everything, I'm Regina fucking George. I'm a massive deal!" She sobs a little into the pillow, "I don't even know who I am. Am I nice? Am I a mythic bitch? Do I kiss boys? Do I kiss girls? I don't know!"

She still sits knelt on the ground with her face in the pillow on the couch, she quickly switches it to the knee on your uninjured leg. She wraps your leg in a tight hug, and you tug on her to sit on the couch. The mechanical whirring starts again and then stops, and your mom comes up the stairs.

She tosses you the meds, "These do cause drowsiness so Y/N may be out quickly!"

Regina gives you a concerned look, and you speak up, "I'm going to head to my room, Regina will help."

Regina helps you off the couch and offers herself as a crutch, letting you put your weight on her. She is surprisingly strong considering you are being a huge baby and dragging. You make it to your bedroom door and she opens it, setting you on the bed.

She sits in awe at your room. Tan walls covered by DIY record sleeve panels, deep green ivy strung across your ceiling and down the wall, a black tapestry of a mandala hung behind your bed. Bright red LED lights shine brightly and reflect off of your black bedding and fluffy grey blanket. Your bookshelf holds tons of books, some old, some really old, and some new. Your desk has papers upon papers stacked with drawings and ramblings. You grab the remote on your nightstand and turn the lights to a deep green.

"This is the coolest room I have ever been in." Regina smiles.

"Don't you quite literally live in a mansion?"

"Yeah but this room is all vibey and nature-y. This is so cool!" She looks at your record player.

She starts sifting through your record collection, nodding and giving approving hums at several and giving slight 'nuh-uh's at others. She finally comes over to your bed and lays by you.

"Oh my god even your bed is the best." She drops open her jaw and looks at you as you scoff and look at the ceiling.

You grab some sticky fidget toys and spend at least 30 minutes staring above you, catching and throwing them.

"How did you figure it out?"

"What?" You catch the ball that you had just thrown and look at her.

She shifts on to her side to look at you and you do your best to repeat the action.

"How did you figure out you like kissing girls? I won't say gay because, you know?" She smiles and references the conversation from earlier, "I fucking hate labels."

"Can I be so for real?" You say, she nods, "Orange is the New Black." You both laugh.

"I am so serious! One look at Ruby Rose or that chick that plays Alex? You know, the ginger from That 70s Show? One look and boom. Girl kisser." You tell her in a silly matter-of-fact voice.

"You didn't try any hands on? You didn't go out and kiss a girl?"

"Well, no. Like you said, Illinois isn't a big fan of queer people. It wasn't until sophomore year that I actually started dating around like you said in your book. Not a dig, by the way." You smile at her.

You look back up at the ceiling, and Regina places her hand in the spot between your jaw and neck, and forces you to look at her. She puts her forehead against yours as you set your hand on top of hers. You can feel how warm her breath is on your hands, and how warm your cheeks had gotten.

She shoots up, "uhm, I'm gonna choose a record!" You had just gotten Queen Bee all flustered.

She sifts back through the records and lands on one, she picks Folklore. She skips tracks until it starts playing 'this is me trying', and lays back down in the same way you were before.

She puts her hand back in its spot between your meck and jaw and shoots you an awkward smile. You lay your hand on top of hers, rubbing your thumb against her knuckles.

"Can I kiss you?"

You sit there shocked, mouth open, eyes closed, unable to respond.

"Nevermind I shouldn't have asked, that was so stupid, I'm so sorry Y/N that was really fucked up of me." She moves to get up.

You pull her back down and roll onto your back, pulling her with you.

"Wow you are strong," she reaches for your muscle as she speaks.

"Hockey, honey. Not the point," you lift her chin to look at you, "it wasn't fucked up of you. I was thinking it too, but only if you are sure."

She lays her head on your chest, you tangle your hand in her soft blonde locks.

"I just want to know... this is all so hard. I don't get it. My therapist said I need to explore myself outside of school and the plastics. I just don't want to fuck things up. I can't lose the one thing I have control over..." she starts to cry into your chest, the second time shes cried on you today.

"Sh, you're okay Regina. It's okay Regina. You're gonna be okay G." You keep repeating her name and it feels so good on your lips.

You quickly realize she was meaning the one thing she has control over is the school. You guess after last year everything really did fall apart for her.

"No matter what. If you kiss girls or not. It will be okay. You will still have control over aspects of your life. If you do like girls? Nobody will force you out. You have control over that."

She sits up and looks at you, pulling herself to sit straddling your hips. She runs her fingers through your hair and sets her hand under your jaw when she's done.

Regina slowly leans in, intertwining your fingers and pining your hand above your head. Your other hand trails down her side and makes its way to her hip. She finally, after what feels like a painful eternity, closes the gap. Every moment moves so slow, but she deepens the kiss. You can feel how warm her cheeks are.

Well that was an unexpected turn of events

[ne-videl]

𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖉𝖞 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖊𝖗𝖔𝖕𝖎𝖉𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘

♡

yandere Wriothesley x gn!reader

another long day with your duke.

yandere, reader is a murderer sentenced to death and is ok with it, imprisonment & isolation, mentions of going insane and you really are kinda insane, no happy end :(, poor english, sfw. not very yandere (except you're literally isolated) actually, but well I felt like thinking thoughts don't judge me

word count: ~2.2k

a/n: hiii

not really my best work but uh well I tried. the question is, how do I get that man to sit on my face 🤨

also go check my masterlist ^^

enjoy.

it's difficult to determine what time it is in the Meropide Fortress, so it is better to take a watch with you.

you turn over the next page with boredom, hardly paying attention to the contents of the book, and lazily glance at the clock. in the farthest corner of this prison, in a huge room, a murderer is deeply hidden, who is once again bored.

lunch has already passed, which means he will certainly come soon.

from the very beginning of your imprisonment, he always found you wherever you were hiding, and eventually you completely gave up trying to escape from him. after all, the world is not so huge, and your own is completely concentrated in this copper fortress.

your duke is the only one who speaks to you. actually, he was the reason for your forced loneliness, so that he could generously dispel your boredom. to be the only one who can do it at all.

and the gray, yellow and dirty-green walls of the copper corridors suddenly lose all their sullenness, and even breathing seemed to become easier, as soon as you heard this cherished "how are you". it's amazing what a live conversation with a person completely deprived of any human society can do!

yes, your kidnapper was kind and affectionate, of course, but he still was your kidnapper. even you forget about it sometimes.

well, who wouldn't start going crazy at your place?

Wriothesley combs your hair, humming softly.

"can you not make that face?" – duke bends down to look into your eyes, and his sharp gaze captures every tiny detail of your frown.

"you're awful at this." – you huffed, getting out of his arms.

"I'm trying to learn." – he answered you with a sly, deceptively harmless smile.

yes, that was his style. to pretend that everything is fine.

"I don't like it here. terribly boring." – you mumbled, leaning back so that your back rested against his broad chest. – "did you know that the lack of sunlight is bad for health?" – Wriothesley listened to your little tirade without interrupting you for a second, putting his hands on your shoulders and knowing full well that he was not going to let you go anywhere at all.

what else could he do? to look at you as much as he wanted, yes, at least he could do that. the duke kisses you on the top of your head, once again ignoring your words, and speaks with his kind smile, boring into your back with a loving, but slightly frightening look.

"let's talk about something else. you seem to have read a new book today." – Wriothesley grabs you by the arms, sitting down on the sofa and sitting you on his lap. you don't resist, but huff irritably.

even if you don't answer him, it's nice to just be in your company – he thinks, looking down at you.

"it's not fair." – you still don't even deign to give him your arrogant look – "other prisoners can move freely around the fortress. can talk to each other." – you remark bitterly, resentfully.

a strange, sticky feeling of contempt for the person sitting in front of you has passed through your heart. as if the sudden realization that you were locked up, and locked up for nothing, at his whim, suddenly came over you like a wave.

and resentment, anger and longing flashed in your eyes; a look that, however, was met with the same gentle, painfully sweet smile of your dear kidnapper. Wriothesley left a kiss on your trembling palm, and the pair of handcuffs on your wrists flashed in the dim light of your room.

they didn't constrain movements at all; and it was not even clear why these restraints were needed at all, carefully fastened by Wriothesley on your wrists and ankles like an engagement ring.

they didn't constrain movements at all, but nevertheless, they were always on you, and were palpable: like another reminder of your stolen freedom, forged in cold, soulless metal.

"but you're not like them at all, [name]. what if you get hurt?" – he almost purred, playfully, almost mockingly, as if perfectly aware of the absurdity and contrivance of his reason for keeping you under lock and key. – "oh, I would never forgive myself for that."

strong arms hug you, squeezing your shoulders in a tight, almost suffocating grip, and you internally laugh at yourself for another attempt to reason him. another failed attempt.

"I hate you, you know? I wouldn't put up with it if I could, but instead," – you feel the indifference slowly returning, filling your mind with the usual boredom. – "i'd strangled you instead." – you stretch out your chin more comfortably on his shoulder, ecstatically imagining how your hands close around his neck.

"I wouldn't mind." – Wriothesley pats you on the back, responding with the smile you know so well. – "please hate me until you die. never forgive me." – he exhales somewhere into your neck, and you are almost sure that on his face there is a familiar expression of sick, obsessive affection.

Wriothesley was really afraid of very few things, but even the tiny thought of your indifference drove him into a frenzy, ringing with an alarming noise in his head. even if you cannot love him, he could be satisfied with your hatred, any feeling. any.

please, hate me.

maybe one day your hatred will turn into love, maybe one day you will look at him the same way he looks at you.

please hate me until you die.

♡

"lovely." – Wriothesley briefly commented on your story about the contents of the book, sitting opposite you and sipping tea.

your duke always spoke lazily, with a tiny bit of fun in his voice, like an actor in an old play laughing from the stage. so that any will and desire to scream, cry and try to explain to him at least a little common sense immediately disappeared.

Wriothesley remembers your first meeting well. how the murderer in shackles laughed in the faces of the guards, led through the damp corridors of the fortress, and how relaxed, even familiar they behaved in front of him.

and how insignificant his greatness suddenly seemed, whole life and all death in front of this person, this different person, unlike anyone else he met.

"how happy and calm I am now that death is finally breathing down my back," – you smiled at him that day, – "do me a favor, your grace, please do not delay the execution."

oh, beautiful creature, how lovely is your smile. but why don't you deign to even look at him?

it was like a virus, like a bright flash; your image had entered into his consciousness, become ingrained in his blood; the memory of your laughing eyes could not be eliminated either by the judgment of reason or common sense. but it's not a bad feeling, he sometimes mused, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

the duke liked it very much.

his obsession had neither teeth nor claws. he did not have that simple-minded fervor, haste with which a young man loves, or the cold cruelty with which a psychopath loves; on the contrary, the duke adored you tenderly, affectionately, like a good-natured dog, a breath of wind on a sultry summer day, a warm ray of sunshine after a cold winter. he never hurt you, rather, he took every tiny wound you had as his own.

and yet, there were shackles on your wrists and ankles, and you hadn't spoken to anyone but him for years. every day you felt how sanity was gradually slipping through your fingers, how consciousness and purity of thoughts were slowly being replaced by a static noise in your ears and that terrible, disgusting smell of dampness and the shine of copper pipes, and your once lively, thoughtful expression with a dull, meaningless calmness and a tired gleam in inflamed eyes. boredom, oh, what a boredom.

but Wriothesley didn't even think to stop your isolation.

how well you suited each other! if you have something to chat about before going to bed for so many years, then you were not mistaken when choosing a life partner.

even if said life partner became so against their will and chattered out of sheer boredom and loneliness: let it be, let it be so. the main thing is that he has you, and you have him. two out of seven billion, the prison's administrator and the murderer.

"freedom and equality?" – you raise your eyebrows in mock, arrogant surprise, – "to say that to the face of the person you've been keeping isolated for years, duke, you have to be either a fool or an incredible hypocrite."

"oh, I am undoubtedly a terrible fool, my dear [name]. the worst one you've ever known." – Wriothesley speaks in a laughing tone you know so well, sipping tea – "what other duke would allow himself to have conversations with a prisoner like this?"

you've never been impressed by his stories about the construction of the fortress; rather, they were depressing or, at the very least, made you smile sarcastically.

"indeed, you must be one of a kind." – you say lazily. boredom always leads to philosophical reflections, causing your mind to wander and hesitate.

almost all of your conversations were like this: meaningless, about everything and nothing at the same time. Wriothesley was talking because he desired your company, and you were talking because you had nothing else to do. oh, what a terrible melancholy! how can you not go crazy when every day is so similar to the previous one?

but at least your dear kidnapper was good at entertaining you.

and, in particular, one of his most outstanding skills was the ability to make you think over and over again that everything is fine; as if you are not a criminal at all, and he is not at all the one who makes you slowly go insane with loneliness.

"I love you, [name], do you remember that?" – Wriothesley speaks calmly, as if this is another conversation about something unimportant, abstract and meaningless. he speaks, glancing at you imperceptibly, as if trying to find an answer in your features, a reciprocity. something he could cling to, something that would tell him that you care, that at least you're sorry.

his infatuation has not been interesting or touching for a long time. you smile slyly, leaving him unanswered; rather, giving a silent answer, as you have done many times before. I know. and you know that I know, so why remind me of that?

duke is indeed a fool to keep repeating these words to you and keep hoping for a different result. for a result that won't happen.

but even seeing the sadness that flickered in his eyes for a second, you're not sorry. you're never sorry, and the fool is the one who thinks it could be otherwise.

"and even now, you don't love." – calmly, even casually, the duke concludes, but you know him too well not to see how his strong facade is cracking. – "and you'll never be able to?" – he looks up at you again, looking at you expectantly.

"never." – something made you feel overwhelmingly funny, as it has never been during your stay in this fortress.

as if in this conversation between you two he demanded an answer not really to his another confession, but rather, your explanation of this whole idiotic situation, as if he himself was not the cause of it. your whole current life suddenly seemed like a stupid joke, a meaningless performance for the amusement of a bored audience; and you must be an incredibly awful actor!

so you laughed.

"what guilt-seeking eyes you have, your grace." – wiping away a stray tear, you giggle – "and what should I do now, take up a revolver? take my own life? or should I be slavishly grateful to you all my life for the fact that you adore so much such a sinful and vicious me? oh, is it really all my fault?"

indeed, you must have gone completely crazy, you think with a laugh. the duke was somewhat taken aback by your sudden half–mad laughter, and could only look at you with sincere confusion, waiting for the end of your strange monologue.

"have mercy, your grace! redemption in this damn prison, love, remorse," – you lean closer, for some reason poking at him with your finger, and a handcuff glitters on your wrist – "I was spared from this. kindly leave this poor condemned person to wait for execution."

the duke silently looked at you with a cold, deathly calmness in the features of his beautiful face, but with a heavy, inflamed and passionate gaze. and it seemed to you that he would certainly die himself rather than let you die.

your cold hands intertwine with his hot, scarred ones, and you look into his eyes.

in a world without any hope or anything particularly important, the duke of Fontaine asked for the love of a murderer.

"I'm an awful fatalist, did you know that?" – Wriothesley leaves a kiss on your knuckles, looking at you with a vague, cruel emotion in eyes the color of a winter sky.

"you can be anyone and do anything you want as long as you stay here. stay, [name]."

you must not be the only one insane here, you think, looking at him desperately squeezing your hand.

you're not the only one who's cruel. just as you break his heart over and over again, he still keeps you in solitary confinement. you do not regret; but neither did he, that he so selfishly, on a whim and driven by low jealousy, deprived another person of any company except himself. it was cruelty, a blatant injustice; and Wriothesley understood that. and this made the situation worse, worse a hundredfold: he understood, but he did it anyway, and did not feel guilty for it.

none of you were sorry.

♡

today's execution seemed like a farce, a stupid misunderstanding – after all, here was his precious murderer, laughing and munching on their last meal, alive and cheerful, and sitting right in front of him. of course, there was no execution!

"come on, come on, take it off. I'm awfully tired to be in these things." – you sipped a fragrant tea, watching as Wriothesley huffs with a screwdriver in his hands over the shackles on your ankles, sitting on his knees.

duke sighed jokingly, taking off you the worn metal and watching you flex your limbs contentedly.

of course, there was no execution.

"it's summer now, isn't it?" – you ask, wiping crumbs from your lips, and answering to yourself. – "good, good. just wonderful. it's been a while since I've been in the sun."

Wriothesley just smiles weakly as he leads you by the hand out of your solitary confinement room.

a pleasant, warm and languid feeling curled up in his stomach when he held your cold palm in his. as if the whole life was waiting for him, life with you, as if everything was going to get better and it would certainly be fine.

there was no execution. there wasn't!

the guillotine flashed in the sun, reflected in the laughing eyes of the murderer.

and only one of the two remained.

it's 3AM now and I feel like I should go visit a therapist

[kisakis-boyfriend]

I'm so glad your requests are open again! Hopefully this counts towards the winter theme, but I was hoping to request the reader going on a date with Hakkai, going to see holiday/winter decorations, when they get home the reader suggests they warm each other up with their bodies, making sure to explore every inch of him to ensure the 'cold' has been thoroughly worked out of him.

Author's Note: This is a cute idea! Hakkai is so much fun to tease too, what a cutie 💙

Pairings: Hakkai x male reader

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Hakkai, a bit of cockwarming, teasing

Even with the sun shining brightly on the glittering snow, it was still rather cold outside. Cold enough for the two of you to see your breath as you chatted in front of the food stall. Laughter filled the air when Hakkai's teeth chattered together as he tried to speak. You teased him for this, but before you could say much more the same thing happened to you. Which in turn caused Hakkai to tease you right back, placing his hands on his hips and sassing you while you smacked his arm playfully

Walking around carrying a cup filled with a nice, warm drink to prevent your fingers from freezing off, you and Hakkai strolled through the city admiring the beautiful holiday decorations strewn about the various shops and buildings. There was even a massive Christmas tree set up in the middle of the shopping center! Adorned with all sorts of ornaments in red, green, gold, silver, and even some blue

Everything is so gorgeous this time of the year. Definitely worth the freezing noses and cheeks that plagued the two of you. It was so worth it to see Hakkai's eyes sparkle, pointing at the snowmen and other snow sculptures created by the large crowd of people. Crude sculptures crafted from the hands of young children, simple snowmen thrown together on a whim, and a handful of highly artistic sculptures from some very talented individuals

As fun as your day has been, you did have to head home eventually, lest you two turn into living ice sculptures yourselves...

The door to the Shiba house closed and you stepped inside, following Hakkai. A burst of warm air hit your exposed skin and it was absolutely heavenly. “Ugh that feels so good. The vent is blowing right on me.”

Hakkai gasped softly, quickly heading over to where you were standing. “I need some of that too! Seriously, I can barely feel my face!” Both of you giggled at his remark, rubbing your ungloved hands together while you let the heat work its magic. Seeing your boyfriend like this — with red cheeks, lips parted in a sigh — caused your mind to wander to a dirty place. I mean, when else would Hakkai be flushed and moaning the way that he was? You can't be blamed for thinking of that!

“I know of a better way to warm up...” You mumbled, swiftly pulling Hakkai's scarf down so you could capture his cold lips in a kiss– He had no time to react as your hands traveled to the back of his neck, grazing against the hairs at his nape. Removing his scarf and tugging at his winter jacket. Having cold fingertips made it a bit difficult to unzip the coat, but you managed regardless, stripping your boyfriend of his layers and literally taking his breath away

“Mmm, mmph~ W-wait, y/n....” Hakkai tried to say between your heated kisses. “What're you doing...aah!” A cold hand found its way underneath his shirt, causing him to yelp from the sudden change in temperature on his skin. It does feel good though; firm hands all over his back and chest, exploring his skin as if it were uncharted territory and your fingers were the ships sailing forth

At some point, you had to pull away for air, gasping and panting into Hakkai's open mouth as you explained, “Heh...you wanted to get warm, right?” Your partner tilted his head, eyes half-lidded already. “Just trust me, ok? I'll warm you up nicely~”

Before he knew it you had dragged him over to the couch and pushed him onto the cushions, stripping the two of you down to nothing, then throwing a large fuzzy blanket over both of your bodies before crawling on top of your boyfriend. Your lips soon found Hakkai's neck, earning such cute whimpers from him while you hungrily kissed the tender flesh. Sweat has already begun to cling to his skin from arousal, building up most prominently on his back and the palms of his hands

“Hey, I need ya to warm something up for me, babe. Think you can do that?” Your question registered about halfway in Hakkai's fuzzy brain, nodding along with a breathy “O-ok–”

Without warning, Hakkai's hole stretched around something big and slightly wet; surprising the poor guy so much that his voice cracked. Arching his back and whining as you fully slipped inside

“Ooh shit– God you're so damn warm inside, Hakkai. Mm, I love it~ ” You moaned, just taking a moment to stay still and relish in the warm, tight walls of your baby as he so kindly warmed your cock up. Hakkai's hands wrapped around the back of your neck, pulling you down towards him for more kisses. Of course you obliged him, letting more of your weight lay on top of his body like a weighted blanket, rubbing his chilly shoulders until the skin felt warm again

After you parted for more air, you moved down to caress more of your boyfriend's body; sliding over his toned abs and stomach and admiring how strong Hakkai was. His thighs were next; squeezed within your grasp so adoringly. His thighs were too perfect, especially when they were within range of your mouth~ Your nails scratched the insides of Hakkai's thighs and he let out a slutty whine, unable to stop his hips from jerking

“Baby, darling– Isn't this nice?” You asked, cupping Hakkai's cheeks and rubbing them with your thumbs. He hummed a content response, holding onto your wrists and nuzzling his face into your warm palms. Between your body heat and the large blanket surrounding yourselves, he was sufficiently warmed up now

“Told ya! Told ya I would warm you up nicely. Gotta make sure your insides are warm too~” You teased, humping his ass a little bit. Even the heat from your cock inside felt blissful; Hakkai's walls clung onto the gland deliciously as it throbbed every so often. But he was growing impatient...

“Please...”

“Hm? What is it, baby?” You heard something come out of Hakkai's mouth, but it was kinda muffled and said under his breath

“Please...y/n...s-start moving already–” Your boyfriend whined, wiggling his hips against your dick. His glossy eyes peered into yours; like a sad puppy begging for treats. And how could you ever deny that adorable face of his?

You scoffed playfully, leaning down to nuzzle your nose against his. “Anything for you, love. Anything for you~ ”

[erendruggg]

Rengoku Kyojuro: "Your body language speaks to me"

Warnings : Smut, Dirty Talk, Car sex, Blow job Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Semi-public sex, Vaginal sex, Cow girl position, Praise kink

_______________________________

You were at a meal at Tengen's with Kyojuro and his colleagues, he asked you to go with him and you couldn't refuse except for the fact that you didn't know anyone.

But even so, you would have liked to be anywhere else than here. Not that they were horrible, well for the most part, but that you were hoping to spend some time alone with your husband.

Instead, you find yourself here, even though they are very friendly, like Mitsuri with whom you were able to talk and who reminds you of Kyojuro but with a little more delicacy.

She is social and also very beautiful, let's not lie.

Despite the nice encounters, you start to huff and puff in your corner and tell yourself that you are only there to decorate. You put your elbow on the table and hardly speak until you blow once and for all.

You thought it would be discreet, but it isn't, because Kyojuro starts to look at you out of the corner of his eye. You freeze at the look on your face and soon feel his hand on your thigh.

While he was talking like nothing was wrong, his hand was moving up and down, caressing you from top to bottom. You couldn't help but get little butterflies in your stomach, shivers of pleasure as they say.

So your posture was very different now as you saw how easily Kyojuro was pawing your thigh underneath his friends' table as he smiled and talked normally with them.

You were trying to control yourself but Kyojuro's gaze met your eyes again before moving up even further, placing his hand on your clothed pussy. He strokes it up and down and in small circles until you coughed loudly from the heat and excitement:

"Y/N is everything okay?" Shinobu asks you and you smile without realizing your quick answer: "Yes yes, everything is fine Shinobu!" The way you were suddenly fidgeting suggests otherwise so she looked at you for a moment before resuming her "conversation" with Mr.Tomioka.

You then take advantage of this moment to be able to tease Kyojuro in the same way by sliding your hand over his clothed cock. He restrains himself and you can feel it, his jaw twitching as you gently stroke his dick with your fingertips.

He smiles before opening his mouth to turn his tongue into laughter, a sign of anger and frustration but also excitement. He leans into your ear, smiling at his friends, and said:

"If only we weren't in public, I could have my head between your legs and make you come as many times as you like." "Oh yeah? Do it then..." You say as his eyes darken with desire. He then slides his hand under your dress and reaches your pussy after moving your panties.

You tried to remain calm but it seemed impossible as he placed his finger on your clit and gently pinched it.

"Fuck! "A sound escape you followed by a cough to cover it up as Kyojuro leans in looking worried but smiling victoriously.

"My love, are you all right? "He looks at you and everyone look worried as you still cough.

"I think we'll go home Tengen, my wife doesn't look fit to stay, she's very tired but thanks to you for inviting us again it was nice." You stand up trying to calm down or rather calm down your lie and make it more realistic as you walk towards the exit with your husband.

"Take care of yourself Y/N! "Mitsuri yells and everyone waves goodbye, you smile and continue your act to the car. Kyojuro rushes you to the car, opens the door for you to get in, and then hurries back in.

"You're a fucking tease," you say in his ear as he starts to take off his trousers, showing a visible bulge: it looks like this case has made him a little too hot.

"Help me out, will you? "With both fingers on your chin, he wore a dark look, full of desire but at the same time pleading.

"What do you want me to help you with?" You leans closer to him until your chest was against his torso.

"I want you to suck me." The grip on your chin was much stronger and he then guided your hand over his erect cock.

"My good girl does want to suck Daddy's cock doesn't she?" He coos, sliding his thumb into your mouth as you lowered yourself low enough to be in front of his cock.

You take the time to remove it from his boxers and wank it gently, looking into his eyes.

The pre-cum was visible and you stroked his glans with the tip of your thumb. You can feel him tense up at the very least of your actions. Then you decide to suck him for real, eager for his taste. You want to taste it.

Rocking your head up and down, you suck him, maintaining eye contact as he congratulates you.

"Yes, just like that, princess." His eyes were full of desire just watching you suck him, legs spread like that.

"You look so beautiful, with your mouth filled like that" He coos as he rolls your hair around, pulling it a little which made you moan on his cock.

"Honey, I know you can take anything better than this." You decide to shove his member down your throat until you cough for real this time.

"Fuck yes" With a gasp, you hear him swear until he's thrusting his hips down your throat. Your panties never stop drooling as you hear his grunts, Kyojuro has always been a very expressive person during sex and that always got you more.

"Am I going to come in your mouth princess? Can I? You want daddy's cum in your mouth mh?" You nod frantically and continue to suck on it as you move your other hand down to start the circles on your clit.

"Aah~" With a grunt, you felt the liquid spill into your mouth.

"Swallow." says Kyojuro as he lifts your face, you did so directly and he smiled at you.

"Good girl." You give a final lick before climbing on top of him astride.

"So excited... you want daddy to take care of you, is that it?" You smile and get on the seat next to you to take off your panties.

"Yes, I need help, so bad daddy..."

"Where to, sweetheart? Where do you need help? Show me" His voice was honeys as he had his innocent eyes.

You point to your clit and start circling it, moaning as you press yourself against the door.

"You're so beautiful like this, let me make you feel good, okay? You deserve it so much."

He come and kisses you for real, his tongue dancing with yours, and even though the kiss was full of desire you could feel the love he had for you, he loves you and wants to make you feel good.

You moan against his lips as he begins to move a finger inside you.

"So wet for me, just for me, isn't it?" He whispers his words to you before pulling you into another, more greedy kiss.

"Yes Kyojuro, just for you." You manage to answer between kisses and he smiles before bending down to your burning pussy.

"Let me taste you." He kisses your inner thighs as you squirm under his movements.

"Kyo don't tease me too mu-AH~" A cry of surprise escape you as his mouth was on your clit. He begins to suck greedily on it as if he hadn't eaten in days.

"You taste so good, I could eat you like this forever." His breath made your clit vibrate as he continues with little moans of satisfaction.

You were playing with your nipples while he was busy sucking your clit.

"I've been waiting for this all night, you're going to cum in my mouth aren't you princess?"

He inserts three fingers inside you which made you jump with pleasure.

"I love seeing you like this..." he says before fingering you harder. You were on the verge of cumming, your legs shaking as you held on to what you could.

"Fuck Kyo I'm going to-" you bit your lip as he sucks you faster, his fingers quicken and he moans against it.

"Come for me, I want to taste you, I want to feel how good you taste.."

With a cry of pleasure you come on his fingers. He sucks them one by one before your eyes before putting them in your mouth.

"You taste so good as usual." He smiles at you, charmed by the way you obediently suck on his fingers.

"I want your cock babe." You push him back in his seat as he laughs at your confidence. "Yes, you want it? Show me, fuck yourself on that cock, ride it."

You manage to insert his cock into you with a mutual moan. You start to roll your hips and Kyojuro holds you, encouraging you.

"Yes, please yourself, that cock belongs to you." He whispers in your ear as you begin to jump gently. The sound of your pussy taking his cock was obscene, so you leaned down and pulled his head into your chest. He began to suck on your nipples with a moan.

"You take my cock so well darling it's like this pussy was made just for me isn't it?"

"This pussy is all yours Kyo, yes all yours" You moan as he is won over by your answer, your buttocks bouncing and you are slowly getting tired.

"Are you tired, beautiful? Come here" His tone was reassuring as you leans in and he begins to lift his hips to thrust into you.

His hips slammed hard which earns you a loud moan.

"That's so good, yes, so good!" Your mewling was enough for Kyojuro and he knew he would soon cum a second time.

"This pussy is so fucking perfect, let me come in this fucking pussy huh? Yes you will take it huh?"

"Yes give me your babies Kyo ! " You nestle your head in his neck as he continues to grunt. You weren't far from coming and your legs were shaking from the thrusting hips.

The noise was so erotic and the moaning wasn't helping either.

"I'm going to - cum hah~" Between jerky breaths he replies:

"Me too sweetheart, me too." He goes faster and faster as he kneads your ass.

"Come on my dick baby, cum on that dick," he says with a whine as you crie out in pleasure to finally cum like he told you to.

"Shit I-ah~" He lets out a small scream before emptying himself into you. His cock in your pussy emptied and you moaned at the warm sensation.

"You did so well, so beautiful." He covers you with kisses before grabbing tissues to keep it from dripping.

"You're so perfect..." You laugh as he kisses you tenderly.

"You then..."

"How about a second round?" His voice was quite loud but you laughed. He comes over and kisses you on the cheek one last time before starting the car and heading back to your place. Let's just say that after that night, the next day you could hardly walk. Kyojuro has incredible stamina ;)

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

"Tengen, what is Kyojuro's car still doing here? He should have left already, shouldn't he?"

"Yes, you're right Shinobu! It's weird isn't it?"

Tengen laughed at him when he saw the car shaking.

"Those perverts can't even contain themselves.."

________________________________

I was bored lol.

Hope you liked it, it's something that I wrote a longgggg time ago.

So if it's cringe I'm sorry. And f there is some mistakes just know that English isn't my first language.

I will comeback when I'm horny (jk jk unless...)

Plus I prefer writing on Tumblr, idk it's more fun than Wattpad ( my wattpad is erendrug)

Anyway kiss

[ummmlife]

Nanami using his "christmas present" in a very rough way!

Warnings!; MDNI this is literature porn, if you lie and read santa won't give you any nanami present 😋 , reader doesn't have an specified gender/genitalia , dom!top!nanami × sub!bottom!reader , facefucking , spankings , no foreplay , rough , angry!nanami , gift wrapping tape , dirty talk + degradation

Having a joyful christmas shouldn't be that hard. Waking up next to your boyfriend while his protective embrace covers you from the coldness of the morning, get ready together for the night, eat some KFC's chicken for dinner and then open up your gifts.

Your lovely man got you everything you were asking through the year. Every single jewelery, perfume, bag, shoes, clothes... Everything was there in their respective bags under the tree, who could be the luckiest lover in the world if it wasn't you? With a man like Kento, that was unbeatable.

Then Kento asked for his presents, you bought them, of course, his presents were hiding under your shared bed, why? Well, you decided to play a little prank to him, silly you.

The prank was to, flirtatiously, undress yourself to reveal a nice gift wrapping tape enveloping your naked body.

— "Here is your present!"

— "... Only that?"

To say that you blood run cold when you saw Kento's displaced expression was short to describe it. But he wasn't just displaced, no, Kento was enraged and we all know how blood-curdling that is. He spent so much money in those presents for you and you only got him what he can take every day he wants? Unreasonable, stupid even.

How ungrateful you are.

Kento got up from the couch and, even before you could reveal the prank, he grabbed your hair with one of his hands, pulling your head back as tight as he could for you to face him. — "What do you take me for?". More than offended, Kento sounded genuinely hurt by your "present".

You tried to speak again, of course, but this time his fingers in your mouth were more than enough to make you shut up. — "I don't want to hear anything from you tonight, I really don't want to..." . He took his fingers from your mouth and started to unbutton his pants, — "But if I got nothing else... then I'll use my present as much as I want. Get on your knees, now".

A mix of terror and eagerness ran through you as your body obeyed the words of the man you love the most, knees on the carpet, face up and mouth wide open, you even had the decency to stick out your tongue for him. It didn't take long for Kento to take his thick length out of his underwear and slide it in one single thrust all deep down to your throat, his hand taking place on your hair once more.

Thrust by thrust, Kento made it obvious for you that neither your constant gagging nor the lack of oxygen you were getting was going to stop him from using your mouth.

His growls and soft sighs decorated the living room of that peaceful home, accompanied by sounds of his balls hitting on your chin and your own gagging sounds. — "This is what you wanted, isn't it?.. Hah... What– ngh-! did you expect after disappointing me like– ah! like that?!"

But it wasn't enough to satisfied himself though.

Kento took his manhood out of your maw just to push your body against the couch, forcing your face down while your back arches. His palm smacking your ass sent a chill through your spin, but you couldn't savor the pain before another slap was send by him. Just like a naughty kid, you were being spanked for your bad behavior towards your loving boyfriend.

— "How ungrateful and foolish you are". Kento never used to be this rough, never calling you mean names unless you asked for it, never treating you with hate. Deep down you know that if he was actually hurting you, he'll stop, although... why could you him to stop anyway?

Kento stopped the spanking treatment for you to press yous head on the couch. You felt how he simply spat on your hole just to slide his throbbing shaft with a single thrust, the pain was unbearable at first, and Kento knew that because one of his hands moved to your hip to start rubbing it, that was his way to comfort you despite all his mood.

Once you got used to his size, because Kento still waited for you to feel comfortable, your inner walls became the victim of a delicious assault that was leaving your mind and senses all numb. — "Is this what you wanted? Ahn... Mngh-ph! Having this filthy hole filled with your boyfriend's cock? Huh? So greedy...". His movements didn't do anything but increase in force and roughness.

Your moans filled up the silence of your home as Kento's groans and sighs accompanied the melody of your screams drowned out by the cushions while the creaking of the chair marked the pace of this symphony that your bodies played.

It took a few minutes to feel the tickling sensation in your belly anticipating the culmination of your torturous pleasure while Kento's thrust erratically hitted your most sensitive spot. You couldn't see him directly, but by closing your eyes you could clearly focus on the mental image of your boyfriend's face as he's about to cum as well.

Small drops of sweat falling from his hair as this sticks on his forehead, his teeth clenching his jaw as the his heavy breathing leaves his nose. That focusing expression that he makes when he's avoiding himself to cum so quickly with a small frown and his eyes closed.

It was too much, Kento always make you go crazy for him and visualizing his expression of pleasure, while your body is focusing on the sensation of his manhood sliding in and out from you as his hips hit your flesh, just made easy for you to reach your peak. You didn't want to cum that fast, you wanted this moment to last, that was until Kento started to show his real voice, — "Mmm-ahh. A-aahh... Darling! I'm– nnhg! going to... to cum! Haahhh!".

Pure and loud moans of pleasure chime your ears, that was enough to make the orgasm hit all your body and make you shake. You could feel Kento's cock twitching inside of you as his fingers squeezed your hips tightly. It was marvelous.

Kento's thick cum fell from your greedy hole to the floor, running down from your thighs. Just like you, he was catching his breath before sliding out of you and slowly sitting back on the couch, his expression changed from a irritated one to a bitter one. — "Did you seriously not buy me a present?". Kento asks you with a obvious angry pout on his lips, how adorable.

You couldn't help but smile softly and move your body slowly, with Kento's help, to sit next to him.

— "Your presents are under the bed, I just wanted to play a little prank on you".

Your boyfriend's eyes lit up in realization, he looks at you now all embarrassed for how he reacted. Kento instinctively holds your hand as he looks down ashamed.

— "Can I... go and take my presents?" Is he really asking you permission for that? Obviously you didn't say no and as you took off the uncomfortable gift wrapping tape from your chest, Kento came back with 5 gift bags and a gleeful smirk.

To compensate all the damage caused, Kento cleaned all the kitchen and living room and also carried you in his arms for the rest of the night, because, poor you, who shouldn't move your legs for some brutal assault... That in his words, nevertheless, you were more than happy to spend the next hours in your boyfriend's arms, watching some cheesy american christmas movies and grabbing some snacks together.

fun facts with miss bibi ! for the ones who don't know 🤓☝️

in japan, christmas is more a valentine's day snowy edition, so you can perceive the christmas spirit more from the young couples (and the kids, of course). that's why a lot of people spend their christmas with their partners, unlike us who usually spend it with our families.

also, due to the arrival of many new brands from overseas to japan and thanks to an excellent advertising team, it became a tradition for the japanese people to have kfc as their christmas dinner since the 80's.

that's all folks!

[covetyou]

honey, you're familiar

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Tess Servopoulos x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: dub-con, oral (f receiving), fingering, readers first time with another woman, one use of good girl, drug reference. word count: 3.3k summary: The first time your father struggles to afford his pills you figure you'll do what you can to help. All you need to do is find his dealer and talk to him, right? How difficult could a man like that be to find.

A/N: we needed more time with Anna Torv Tess. Like, a whole series more time.

prequel to something wretched about this. can be read as a stand-alone.

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

divider by @saradika

Now's your chance. Probably fucking stupid really, pulling a stunt like this on a woman like her, but you don't know how else to reach her, where else to go. This is the best option you have. So you grab her arm.

Your fingers have barely clasped around her jacket when she's twisting, hand raised ready to back-hand whoever dared to grab her. You flinch back, waiting for the sting of pain across your cheek, but instead she hesitates, stopping herself from striking you.

Her face pinches into a confused frown, and she wrenches your hand from her arm, throwing it away from her like you're some dirty, filthy thing, and stalks off before you can say anything.

"Please..." you start, chasing after her, not even trying to be discreet. She rounds an alleyway, and suddenly she's grabbing you, dragging and pulling you down the street, away from prying eyes, up some stairs into what you thought was an abandoned apartment block and pushing you against a wall.

"The fuck do you want."

"I'm sorry for grabbing you, I am, I just need information and your name is the only one I have and I-"

"Who the fuck is giving you my name and what for," her hand raises again, and this time you think she might really do it.

"My dad! My dad, he's sick, he has a dealer who helps him, I just need his name, I need to go see him, dad's got bad again and I-"

She backs away from you to lean on the wall opposite as you speak, shaking her head at your rambling. You're clearly already giving her a fucking headache, and she pinches her nose and raises a palm to stop you. "Slow the fuck down."

"My dad is sick."

"I know who your daddy is, you don't need to tell me he's sick, I know. What I'm wondering is why his daughter is snooping around, grabbing people, asking for names she apparently doesn't know."

"I just need to know who his dealer is. We can't pay for the pills this month and I thought maybe if I spoke to him I could..." You trail off. You both knew just speaking to whoever your dads dealer was wouldn't be the end of it, it never was. The dream was you'd asked nicely and be given what you asked for, but the reality was you probably wouldn't get it without giving something first.

"And you got my name how?"

"My dad mentioned... you?"

"Right," she says, biting back a laugh, before pushing herself away from the wall she'd been leaning on and clapping her hands. "Well, you're in luck. I'm feeling generous, and I think I can point you in the right direction. Come with me."

You follow, like a dog on a bitch in heat, practically running after her as she strides down the hallway, yanking open a door and pushing you inside. She doesn't bother to look around, knowing full well the building is cold and abandoned for a reason.

You walk further into the room as she enters behind you. There's an old desk and chair on one side, and scraps of wood, old broken furniture and stacks of chairs littered around the edges, pushed against the walls. Once upon a time it would have been a make shift office space, but now it was nothing better than a grimy, long forgotten storage room.

You turn just in time to see her propping a chair under the door handle. You stare at it as she walks past you, taking a seat at the desk. Raising a heavy booted foot up on the worn wooden edge and clasping her hands together, she looks at you with a gleam in her eyes, resting her elbows on the arms of the chair.

"So," she begins with a smirk, as a thread of realization starts to crawl up your spine. "How can I help you?"

Shit. Shit. Your dad didn't give her name because she was a friend, she was his fucking dealer. If he'd been honest with you, told you when you asked who was helping him instead of being so cagey about it, this never would have happened. You wouldn't be stuck in this room with Tess, skirting around the fact you definitely were not willing to offer your body in exchange for your fathers medication.

You quickly realize there is no way to recover from this, no way to back track or back out now. She's going to give you shit for this, you just know it, and you're going to be sent out of here humiliated and with nothing to show for it. You might have even ruined it all for your dad. The thought makes your head swim and bile rise in your throat.

You gape at her for a while and she stares back, challenging you to say something, anything, to her.

"Look," you start, trying to laugh it off, lighten the mood. "I think I've got things mixed up, so I'll just -"

"So you'll what?" she laughs cruelly. "You thought you could come find his dealer, drop to your knees, suck a dick, and get your daddies pills for free."

"I didn't - I never -"

"Do it then," she says from her seat. "Get on your knees."

You stop and start a few times, but no words come to mind. There is no way out of this. So, you slowly sink to your knees in the middle of the dusty room. You're going to get those pills.

As your knees bite into the grit on the floor you watch as her head tips to rest on the back of the chair and her shoulders softly shake, her laughter filling the room.

"Cute," she says, looking back at you, leaning forward and beckoning you toward her with two fingers. "Come here, pretty girl," she croons. "And I don't remember saying you could stand up."

You shuffle over to her on your knees, trying to keep your balance so your hands don't touch the gritty floor.

"You're going to do something for me, and then I'm going to do something for you, okay?"

"Okay," you nod in agreement, unable to make eye contact with her. That is what you came out today for after all, though you can't say the change in anatomy was expected.

"And then when you leave here, you keep your mouth shut, are we clear?"

You bite down on your lips and nod at her from the floor, looking every bit as pathetic as you feel. None of this is going how you'd planned, and you're not sure if that's for better or for worse.

"Ever eaten pussy," she asks, pulling her jacket from around her. You look up at her and shake your head, feeling impossibly small as you sink even further down on your knees. You hadn't, but had thought about it, wanted it, just never found a person to do it with, and certainly never expected to be doing it now.

"Well then, sweetie, you better be a quick learner."

She unzips her pants and pulls them under her ass, yanking them to her knees. It's all so quick you don't have time to register what's going on until her hand is on you.

"Come here," she grabs at your arm, pulling you closer as she kicks her pants to her ankles and slides back in the chair. She yanks you forward, lifts her legs over your head and pulls you in toward her with the fabric caught around her ankles. You're caged in now, trapped between her pants and her cunt, and you are totally, utterly, stunned.

"Don't, wouldn't... wouldn't a... man be better?" you stutter, trying to keep your eyes on hers and not between her legs. It's a stupid question, you know it, but you're nervous and stalling for more time doesn't seem like such a bad idea.

"If I wanted a man, I would get a man. More trouble than they're worth most of the time. You gonna try to stick your dick in me, pretty girl?"

She grabs your chin, and when you don't answer she clicks her tongue at you, pulling your face down between her legs.

"Didn't think so."

You finally look down between her soft thighs. You hadn't seen if she was wearing panties, for all you knew she was going commando under her jeans, but now here she was completely bare before you. Seeing another woman like this was strange, but not unwelcome. If you'd had more time, and the circumstances had been a bit different, you would have liked to have spent more time just looking at her. You'd never seen one up close before, only glimpsing your own as you looked down your body. Given the chance you know you would spend hours here between her legs just looking, exploring.

But that wasn't what this was, and as beautiful as Tess was, this was business.

You cast one last tentative look up as you slowly lower your face to her cunt, catching her eyes as she looks down expectantly at you.

You press your lips to her inner thigh as she watches, kissing as close to her center as you can be without touching, and let out a shaky breath. That's the first hurdle dealt with, but nerves still bubble in your belly. You kiss her soft skin once more, nosing at the sensitive flesh and breathing in her heady scent.

"Mm. Well, shit, that feels nice," she sighs, letting her head fall back and closing her eyes. You do it again, spurred on by her approval and the growing wetness between your own legs, feathering kisses all around the outside of her cunt, chaining them together so eventually you're mouthing around her delicate skin. You let your tongue peak out as your lips meander across her flesh, leaving wet trails in your wake as you move.

You psych yourself up, just go for it, taste her, do it, she wants it, what could go wrong, before you finally take the dive and lick a delicate strip through her folds. She tastes similar to you, but not quite. You give her another gentle lick, your wet tongue curiously lapping at her entrance before you move up, up, up, and press a soft kiss to her clit. Her entire body relaxes and shifts down in the chair, her legs spreading further over the arms, giving you more access and her tangled feet pushing into your back to pull you in closer.

You kiss it again, and again, before you let your tongue slip out to lap softly at the sensitive nub, licking upwards in slow strokes and dragging your bottom lip across it. You suckle on her clit for a little before releasing, wishing desperately now that you had something between your own legs too.

Feeling bolder, you lick a broader stripe across her cunt, your breath getting caught in your throat, and coming out as a small moan. Tess's sigh in response is all you need to start devouring her, dipping your tongue into her slick hole. You let your hand come up to pull her apart, making it easier for you to lap at her folds. You know your actions are unrefined, messy, but as she starts to moan above you you don't care. You feel as lost in it as she is, imagining how this would feel. A soft face and delicate fingers between your thighs. Gentle, feminine moans dancing softly across your pussy. You groan into her wet heat at the thought, rocking your hips into the empty air in an effort to chase some kind of relief.

"Keep moaning all pretty like that and anyone would think you like eating pussy."

Your eyes catch hers, dark and fiery, staring down at you. You want to tell her you do like it, you'd dreamed of it, wanted to do it so many times before but never had the chance. The most you'd ever done with a woman involved gentle kisses and light touches - thrilling at the time, but nothing compared to being between another woman's thighs. You don't dare take your mouth off of her to tell her any of it, so you moan again mumble a mhm into her, bringing your other hand to her thigh to grip as you do.

You let your grip anchor you down, slow your movements. The few times a man had bothered doing this to you, their rapid sloppy movements felt good, but not enough. Of all the times you'd gotten yourself off, you needed precision and repetition to get there, and now that you'd had a taste and indulged your own desires, you wanted to give Tess what she wanted, what you'd agreed to. You wanted to make her come.

Your fingers stroke at her pussy, and you bring your mouth back to her clit, licking and sucking once again. Your circle it gently, all around and then gently spiralling in to the center. You stay there, keeping your tongue circling in small, soft, circles feeling as her thigh begins to quiver beneath your hand.

"That's it," she sighs, and you preen at the praise, moaning into her clit to let her know you'll keep going, won't stop until she says otherwise.

It's not long before her hand comes to your face, stroking your cheekbone. She pulls you back, unlatching you from her clit. Swallowing and licking your lips for remnants of her, you look up in confusion.

"Give me your fingers now, pretty girl. Put them in."

Oh. Right. Of course. You let go of her thigh and trace your fingers around her entrance, watching in amazement as you circle them in her wetness. Your body looked like this too, got wet just like she did. You tease at her opening for a moment, knowing how good it felt for yourself when you tickled yourself like this, before you slip one in just a fraction, wiggling it slightly as you tease her. A second finger joins the first, and you're soon pushing two small fingers into her cunt.

She feels different to you inside. You'd never even considered it, that any would feel anything other than like yours, but when you push your fingers into her, the ridges and smooth surfaces you were expecting aren't where you thought they'd be. The familiarity was there, but you didn't know hers like you knew yours.

Her eyes are closed again when you next look up, pumping your fingers slowly into her. You bring your face back down to her clit, keeping your eyes locked on her face as you latch back over the sensitive spot and suck. She gasps, her feet clamping down on your back even firmer pushing your face straight into her cunt. You start to lick at her, going back to soft circles around her clit as your fingers pump shallowly in her wet pussy.

You don't relent this time, and she doesn't drag you back. Instead, her hand finds its way to the back of your head, holding you in place as you suckle on her clit and finger her cunt in tandem, bringing her closer and closer to climax. The muscles inside her soon start to clench, her clit start to twitch in your mouth.

You're eager now, as if you weren't before, letting your circles on her clit become firmer as you moan wantonly into her folds. You're breathing deep through your nose, mouth engulfing her cunt, devouring her with each stroke of your tongue.

Her own moans are softer, less desperate, than your own. But then her hips start to rock into your mouth, and you know she's close. You don't change a thing, keeping the movement of your fingers and your tongue the same as she rocks against your mouth, using you to get herself off.

"Yes, yes, yes," she whispers through soft moans. "That's it, pretty girl. Good girl. Fuck, yes. Yes."

The pumping of your fingers gets impossible as her whole body stiffens, pussy gripping your fingers in tight spasms as she comes, hips gyrating into your face faster until her legs are clamping around your ears. You keep going, suckling at her clit with your fingers buried in her cunt until her hips are trying to move away from you, to get away from the oversensitivity brought on by your mouth.

"Ohh."

You pull back from her pussy, gasping for air, and looking up at her once again as your fingers still inside her. The furrow between her brows has relaxed, and even in the dull light of the room she looks beautiful, peaceful.

"Good job," she murmurs, patting the side of your cheek. She pulls your cream covered fingers out from inside her, pushing them toward your mouth. You slide them between your lips, cleaning off her cum as she watches. Just like the ones before it, you can't help the moan that falls from your lips as you taste her.

A moment later, she's lifting her legs up onto the table and motioning for you to move. You shuffle out from between them, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you try to ignore the throbbing of your own pussy. That was it then. You'd done it. Why were you disappointed it was over?

You stand and brush the dust off your knees with your dry hand as she pulls her pants back up and zips them up. You don't look at her, you don't want to be caught watching, so you trace the path of a dust mote dancing in a sunbeam that has broken through an old board on the window.

"Definitely a quick learner," she says, walking toward you. If she knows how wet eating her pussy had made you, she doesn't let on.

Her cheeks are flushed a deeper shade of pink than when she'd first dragged you in here. You briefly wonder if you walked out of here together, maybe people would know what you'd been up to. But, her soft face and relaxed features don't last long, and she slips the mask back on, brows furrowing at you as she moves the chair from under the door handle.

"Not that I think you'll tell anyone you had your face buried in someone's cunt, but if you do, your daddy will be going cold turkey. I don't do this, we clear? Even for pretty girls like you," she says, depositing a small bag of pills into your hand. "Now, get going."

You grip the bag in your damp fingers as you walk home, hoping it'll all be enough to get your father through another few weeks in the QZ.

It took a few days for your dad to get back on his feet again, but once he started there was no stopping him. He never asked you about the pills, and you never told him. It seemed both of you could be cagey when you wanted to be. You also knew that if he needed it, you'd go do it again in a heartbeat.

Collection day comes and goes, and he's strolling in the door, depositing a small container of pills onto your dining table as you pull together a meager dinner.

"Shame to see her go," he says with a soft smile, patting your shoulder in his usual greeting.

You stop in your tracks. "Who?" You'd lost a lot of people over the years, and it was never good news when it happened.

"Tess. She's stopping dealing with that side of the business," he says, pointing to the pills on the table. "Said she'd pass me over to her 'business associate'. I'm meeting with him next Thursday. Nothing should change, but we'll see how it goes."

"'Business associate'?"

He's already grabbed some food, stuffing it into his mouth in a big bite before he answers. "Joel Miller."

Fuck.

Tag List: given it's not the usual p-boy content I haven't tagged any of you this week.

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

[liliesdiary]

I Bet She Bangs Like A Fairy On Acid

Daryl Dixon x River Nymphe

˚1k words

She bangs like a fairy on acid | Elita

<3 : @versatilehater @angelynn-nicole @silk-spun @taylormarieee @ethical-cain-vinnel @weasleys-babygh0rl @theoraekenslover @numberonecolorobservation

“In the forest there's a fairy, she waits for me. She tells me if I hurry, my dreams will come true. She tells me she wants it, so I started to kiss her lips. Milk and honey drips.”

The trees of the forest danced as the man sat by the river, the sounds of their movements along with the movement of the river sounded like instruments to a song. The exhausted man sat on a log as he closed his eyes, enjoying the song. He sighed as he rested on the log next to his dog, he wanted nothing more than to find his brother.

Then there was a sweet voice that was as smooth as silk that interrupted his thoughts. A voice that would soothe the most miserable creatures. The soft and alluring voice sang a tune that was like no other. His dog barked at the voice but didn't know where it was coming from. It sounded so haunting yet so magical. Daryl couldn't believe his ears, he looked around the forest to see where the haunting voice came from but he saw no one.

She hummed a tune that was carved deep inside of his mind, he was hypnotized. Her singing blended in with the trees rustling along the wind and the sounds of the river.

It was getting dark as Daryl relentlessly looked for the maiden yet Daryl and his dog couldn't find her. Her voice got more loud as the hours passed by, the darker it got the more haunting her voice became. Daryl started to feel hazy, almost high. He stumbled out of the forest and ran back to his small cabin he was temporarily staying at.

He panted as he shut the cabin door behind him, his heart was beating so fast. He sat on his bed and listened to the voice as he drifted on to sleep. The song traveled its way to his dreams and haunted him. When he woke up the voice stopped yet it echoed in his mind. He spent days looking for her, there was nothing else on his mind but the maiden’s voice.

The days passed and he was sitting by the same river again. He was resting his eyes as he heard dog bark and leave his side, he looked up and saw dog running up to a maiden. Daryl was startled by the maiden, not only by her presence but she was also naked. She had long beautiful hair and hypnotizing eyes that made his heart stop beating. Daryl hesitated to speak, unsure of what to say first. He gave her a tiny wave, ”What’s yer name?”

The maiden didn't speak, she only played with his dog and didn't look up . Daryl tried again, “Were you the one singing these past few days?”

The maiden was silent for a bit, she broke the silence, “Yes, you look lonely. I wanted to sing you a tune.”

Daryl looked down for a second and blushed at her voice, it sounded like honey. He tried to not look at her bare body but he couldn't help but catch himself staring at her breasts. He wanted to caress them so badly.

He lowered his head and whispered, “I like yer voice, it's nice...”

The maiden smiled and walked closer to the blushing man, “did my voice soothe you?”

Daryl blushed at the maiden, her bare body so close to his. “Mhm.”

The maiden smiled and slowly raised her hands to his dirty cheek. He tried to look away from her haunting eyes but they were so alluring. She caressed his face and hummed softly. It was a short yet enhancing tube that made Daryl soften. His eyes teared up and her affection.

“something else is haunting you, I can fix that.”

Daryl looked into her eyes, “I’m looking for my brother, we never found the body. I've been looking for him ever since, it's been haunting me.”

The maiden raised her face to his level, her soft lips so close to his. “I know how to bring him back, if you come with me all of your dreams will come true.”

Daryl's eyes softened and he moved closer, “How do we bring him back?”

The maiden touched his hands and brought his calloused hands to her soft cheek. “kiss me.”

Daryl hesitated, he looked at her soft milky lips. He touched her lips with his thumb, hypnotized by them. He then pulled her into a deep kiss. Her lips tasted like milk and honey, he moaned at the taste. The forest and the river sang as the maiden kissed his calloused lips.

He then started to take off his clothes, he was hypnotized by her. They continue to kiss and end up on the soft grass, his hands roamed all over her silk body. Her moans were so soft and small, he kissed her small breasts and looked up at her face.

She smiled at him and looked to her right, there was a mushroom. She ripped it out and raised it to her mouth. She took a bite and raised it to his mouth, “take a bite…”

He listened without a thought and took a small bite, he swallowed the bitter taste. The maiden smiled and continued to kiss him as they laid in the soil. He closed his eyes and savored the taste of her lips.

Then all of a sudden, he hears her voice echo in his head. Petals start to melt off her skin. He started to spin. His eyes widened and tried to escape her grasp but she wouldn't let go.

Then he woke up. Her voice still haunting his mind as he panted in his bed. He shook his head and fell in a daze, her voice echoed in his mind and haunted him. He wondered if it was all a nightmare and tried to forget about it but then he looked to his right and saw the same mushroom that was half bitten..

She was haunting him.

[catt-leya]

request: Hii, please could you make number 1 in smutty may degrading/humiliation - but mainly humiliation? :)

10/05

rick grimes x fem!reader

warnings: humiliation, degrading (whore, cock slut), age gap, darker rick, breeding, spit play, claiming, praise kink and my usual smutty stuff

1. Don't even think about cumming yet.

Rick could be cruel. 

Really cruel.

He wasn't always like that. 

No, he certainly wasn't. 

But the world made him who he is now, and you're not sure it could be undone, or if you even want it to be. Especially since you fell in love with this version of him.

You never met him when he was a clean-shaven suburban dad and had a clean moral compass.

By the time you met him, his beard was gray and his hands were bloodied.

People warned you not to get involved with him, to offer yourself to him, but you literally threw yourself into his arms anyway.

It's not like Rick didn't know it was reprehensible to possess a thing as young as you. But you wouldn't let up, and eventually he gave in.

So much so that you are now his little young thing. 

His property and equipped with a cunt from heaven.

A cunt that he is just up to his balls in and clinging tightly to his cock.

He was out for a few days and could think of nothing else but fucking you into the ground. How your little body feels under his bloody hands and how you would do anything to please him. 

He should probably feel bad about how easily he can bend you to his own liking and how you are desperately trying to fulfill it.

He's so much older than you that he should be the voice of reason, but instead he bends you over and whispers in your ear, "You're such a whore for letting me do this to you so easily. I walk in the door and just say "I want your cunt" and you're lying in front of me with your legs spread wide."

Even after several months of dirty and humiliating sex, you're still so tight that his cock feels too big for your little pussy, and you lie trembling beneath him, "I've missed you, Rick."

"Hmm, I know sugar," is all he says. 

Not 'I missed you too'.

That's just the way he is and you've gotten used to it. 

His way of telling you he likes you is just to fuck you and no one else. 

Only. 

You.

Is that enough for you? 

Not really.

Will you still stay with him? 

Yes.

He pushes his hips back a little before thrusting hard into you again, and you gasp: "Rick..."

The cool tabletop feels nice against your heated skin and you grab the edge of the table to hold on and not be in danger of sliding off the table with each of his thrusts.

With his broad body, he shields you and grabs your chin.

Painfully, his fingers dig into your cheeks, forcing you to open your mouth to his muzzle.

His blue eyes glide over your pretty face and his rough, dirty fingers on your soft skin as his cock twitches inside you and he hisses, "Swallow, whore."

Your eyes get huge because you don't know what to swallow and you don't want to disappoint him for anything in the world.

His cock is already inside you, so he wouldn't ask you to suck him off, but you can't be sure either and don't dare break eye contact.

Not even when he lowers his gaze to your forced open mouth and lets his saliva drip into your mouth.

The way he holds your face makes it harder for you to swallow without choking up and pressing your upper body against his.

There's not much to swallow, but as you struggle, he rolls his hips gently and hums hoarsely, "Good girl. Would do anything for me, right? Any perverted game."

You close your thighs tighter around his waist and make an approving sound, unable to speak properly with his tight grip.

He's right. There's no limit when it comes to what you'd do for him.

No limit when he grabs your hips and presses your breasts to the tabletop and takes his belt to shove it between your teeth.

Behind your head, he pulls it tight so that your mouth is forced to stay open by the two edges of the belt and he can pull your head back by the belt.

Without warning, he pushes his cock back between your labia and pushes into your wet and tight pussy.

He notices your cunt trembling around him and he roughly teases you, "You like that, sugar? Want to be my cock slut? Yes?"

Of course he knows you won't be able to say a word, but your cunt squeezing tightly around him again is answer enough.

Actually, he's not even sure if it's his words that turn you on or just that he's fucking you.

Maybe it's also the fact that he fucks you and sometimes puts a 'my' in front of the words 'whore' or 'slut' and it turns you on that he claims ownership over you.

But in itself, he doesn't care either, as long as you lie willingly under him and he can fuck you as he pleases while you lie drooling on the table.

Yes, drooling.

The pure humiliation of lying defenseless on your stomach and not being able to stop saliva from dripping out of your mouth as he stuffs your hole with his cock over and over again to the hilt makes Rick's whole body quiver and your body tense.

You're so close. 

So close to surrendering to him, trembling, but before you can let go, Rick tugs hard on the belt again and hisses, "Don't even think about cumming yet. I'm not done with you."

Panicked, you try to ignore how good Rick's thick cock feels inside you, because you can still remember exactly what it means to cum without permission.

"You dirty whore. Did I give you permission to cum?" his voice thunders deep inside you and you duck your head in fear, "No, sir."

His cock is still inside you and the aftermath of your orgasm is still twitching through your body as he grabs your throat and squeezes, "Don't look at me with those big innocent eyes, sugar. You brought this on yourself."

With those words, he pulled out of you and didn't even touch you with his pinky finger for two weeks, let alone pay any attention to you at all, no matter how much you begged and pleaded for his forgiveness. 

For two whole weeks.

That's why you wouldn't dare to cum as long as you could stop it.

Forcefully he pushes your head back on the table and with your cheek you land in the small puddle of your saliva.

Like a doll, you lie there will-less, clinging to the last bit of self-control you can muster as Rick fucks you harder and harder.

So hard that you won't be able to walk tomorrow, and you squint your eyes as you think about how much Rick likes it when you wince in pain the next morning. 

It turns him on and not only once did he then fuck you again in the morning, even though your body hurt.

Greedily you try to press your ass further against him, which makes him laugh softly, "You're so fucking needy."

You nod and he leans over you again until his heavy body covers you completely and he growls in your ear, "Stretching your pretty ass out to me so great, sugar. Do you want me to fuck your ass? Do you want me to? I bet your ass is even tighter than your little pussy."

He's never offered it to you before. 

Never talked about it.

But how could you say no?

He'd fuck your ass and stuff your pussy with his fingers, you're sure of it.

So you rub up against him approvingly and again he laughs in your ear, "Oh, pathetic little thing. Need it so bad, huh? But not today."

His cock feels so hard and heavy inside you that you can barely think straight, and the fact that Rick doesn't gets up either and instead stays on top of you while he fucks you brings you so close to your orgasm that holding back brings tears to your eyes and you give a muffled moan of pleasure as he murmurs, "My good girl. Take me so well. So incredibly good. Do you want to cum on me? Come on."

At his words, the knot in your stomach loosens and trembling, you tear open your eyes. 

Your heart hammers in your chest and you notice your cum running down your legs.

The wetness between your legs, only makes it easier for Rick to sink his cock deep into your pulsating cunt and fuck you further into the table.

You don't dare resist the fact that he's about to cum inside you. 

The first time you did it and all you got in response was a rough, "I'll cum where I want, sugar. Don't forget that."

Actually, you're almost embarrassed by how much you like it too when he marks you in the most primitive way there is in the world.

Even now you push your leaking pussy towards him and before his cock starts pumping inside you, you already know he's going to come.

He sinks his teeth firmly into your shoulder and, as he does every single time he cums, reaches for your hand to intertwine his fingers with yours.

You can tell Rick is a rough man, and he's no different when it comes to sex, but this simple gesture of taking your hand in his is more intimate than anything you've ever done with him. More intimate than anything you've ever had him do to you.

In the silence of the big house, you can only hear your heavy breaths and the soft rustling that the belt causes as he pulls it surprisingly gently from your head.

Rick is not a man much given to gentleness and sentiment, but as he gently grabs you and pulls you to your feet with him you can't suppress a flutter in your heart.

"Are you okay, sugar?" he's never asked you that before, and you answer in surprise, "Yes, Rick."

Softly, his hands glide over your torso before he presses a kiss to your cheek and murmurs, "Okay. I'm going to take a quick shower. Are you sleeping over?"

You jerk your head around as he lets go of you and stomps up the stairs without waiting for your answer.

He's never invited you to sleep over before. 

Ever.

So you call out more excitedly than you probably should be, "Yes, yes of course." And run up the stairs after him.

Smutty May Masterlist

Taglist: @hail-yourselves   @bean-is-reading   @chanlvr2   @criminalwalkingsupernatural   @sunshinevirus   @toxic-ink    @kingtwhiddleston    @bloodycherry22    @vane28282    @bamslover    @revesephemeres    @emo-potato-virgil    @mrsashleybarnes18-blog  @starsaroundmyscxrss  @starkstiless  @easystreet07 @darylsonlylove @your-shifting-gurl @strnqer @dreamtofus @lincolnswidow @rickswh0r3 @iluvdixon @sinsandsweetness @beekassyy

[dangerousduckcloud]

Flowerbeds make up for a nice eternal rest

Read it also on AO3

“I feel bad, now.” That most certainly was not what Dick was expecting, brows furrowed and blinking. “What for?” “I tried to stab you… Or well, wanted to.”

Chapter 10 < > Chapter 12

Masterlist

taglist: @kurai-hono-blog, @katrina0-0

If anyone else would like to be added to the taglist, let me know!

You were scared, to say the least. The higher you went, the colder you got, specially with your clothes half-soaked due to the rain, your fingers freezing from leaving them inside a cloud as if it were a lake for too long.

Superman —Clark, he said you could call him Clark— was carrying you in his arms, granting you the freedom to extend your arm as much as you wanted without the risk of falling (that didn’t stop the need to tightly grasp his cape with your other hand). Your teeth were clacking, your body trembling, and even though Clark had asked you if you wanted to go back to the warmth of the manor, you declined, not regretting your decision for a second once the sun started to set.

Angelic was the only word you could describe the sight in front of you. Ethereal too, maybe. You now understand why heaven was always pictured to be above the clouds.

With nothing to hinder your gaze, you could see in its entirety how the golden rays shone above you, lighting up the dark, thick clouds, doing its best to traverse through the thick fog to reach the city. The light engulfed the two of you, covering you in a golden blanket that warmed your body.

Never in your life could you imagine the world could look so beautiful, never thought how hideous humanity’s existence erased the preciousness’ of nature with disgusting smog, never ending buildings, and garish billboards.

Once Clark had decided your cold clothes were too much for your body, he flew back down to the manor. Out in the garden, three figures patiently waited for your return, an open umbrella left to dry, discarded next to a bench, the rain gone for the moment.

Right after your feet landed on the grass, Alfred draped the comfiest, warmest blanket over your shoulders, quietly thanking the ever-prepared butler.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Tim said in lieu of a greeting —A Tim who should still be sleeping.

“Yeah.” Was the only thing you could say, with a beaming smile, not still out of your stupor. You felt like those two characters on that old tv show you used to watch, too stunned to speak after riding an impressive roller coaster, with the difference that you’d been higher than any human being could without the need of a plane.

“Thank you for the favor, Uncle Clark.”

“My pleasure, Dick. It was nice to meet you, Jane, but I must go home now. And don’t worry, we’ll get you home soon.”

You smiled despite the pang in your chest, thanking him once again for the extraordinary experience. You were feeling less and less hopeful every time someone reminded you of your situation, sensing they were trying to convince themselves they could do it, rather than admit the truth.

“Where’s Jason?” You asked once inside, taking off your shoes as to not dirty up the polished floors with mud.

“He went back to his place.”

“Oh.” You tried to hide your disappointment with an extremely fake sneeze. “I better go take a shower before dinner, lest I catch a cold.”

Dropping the blanket on your bed, you left your damp clothes on the hamper, a hiss escaping you when the hot stream of water hit your skin, reddening your back, not getting under the running water again until the temperature was to your liking.

Why were you disappointed every time Jason left the manor? Yes, you were aware of the ‘small’ crush you had on his character, on the portrayal people had of him, but not on him per se. He wasn’t the sweet, romantic, hopelessly in love person people made him ought to be in their stories, the short time you’d spend around him revealing, in fact, he was somewhat of an asshole, someone who was stuck in an immature mentality who dealt with their issues angrily and violently.

And wasn’t that what’d happened to him?

Cutting off the water flow, you changed into, finally, your own sleep wear, the lavender detergent Alfred uses invading your nose. You were brushing your hair in front of the mirror, attempting to get rid of all the knots that would form no matter how many hair products you used, when a knock on your door was heard, raising your voice to invite whoever was on the other side of the door.

“Hey, Jane, can I come in?”

The student in you was battling so hard to not automatically imitate all your old English teachers with ‘it’s ‘may’ I’, but you weren’t sure if Dick was familiar with that experience, so you replied with a simple “Yeah, sure.”

He sat down at the end of the bed, a small, white box in his hands. “So, did you like flying?”

“Absolutely.” You replied with a big smile, looking at him through the mirror. You’d given up on untangling your hair, content with getting most of them, and were now putting it in a ponytail. “I simply… I don’t think there’s words to put it, I felt as if I’d become an angel, bested with a sight not many were privy to. Thank you so much for making it possible.”

“I still remember the first time Uncle Clark too me flying, I’d been Robin for a year already, I believe, but I’d only met him a handful of times, Bruce wasn’t with the League yet, so there wasn’t much reason for them to meet.” There was a fond smile on his face, remembering his childhood, a chuckle from something he remembered. “Bruce tried so hard to hide it, but he was horrified, putting his arms around me as soon as we got back, as if to try and stop me from going flying again. I swear if he knew Clark had let me stand on his palms and do pirouettes, he would have a heart attack.”

“What was it like? To be a child vigilante.”

“It was the best thing that could’ve happen to eleven-year-old me. There was nothing better than to be soaring in the sky, helping those who couldn’t defend themselves, feeling the cold wind all around me, the adrenaline pumping through my veins with every goon we fought.” With every word, his tone got more and more enthusiastic, gesticulating every sentence. “And… I’ve never said this to anyone, but the fame almost got to me for a second, with all my classmates babbling about me, about how awesome it was to be Batman’s partner, to work with him and the Justice League. I wanted to be recognized, you know? To tell them right there and then it was me who was going out weekend’s nights fighting the Rogues.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No. I wanted to, but I knew nothing good could come out of that; the city would take me away from my family, and Bruce would be heavily judged and sentenced. Everyone loves child vigilantes until they know who is under the mask. Praising one day, pointing with their fingers the next one.”

“Why do I feel another ‘but’ is coming?” You were facing him now, leaning against the dresser with your arms crossed.

“But…” He said, elongating the ‘u’, his melancholic energy turning into a guilty one, painful memories resurfacing. “As much as I loved it, and have so many great memories, with all my siblings… Well, I know understand why Bruce was so adamant about me going out in the beginning. Especially after Jason… I rarely spent time in the manor when he was Robin, only coming to pick him up to hang up maybe once or twice a month. I always wanted a little brother, and to have him taken away so suddenly like that… I didn’t want to get close to Tim, fearing the same would happen, but I think I hurt him more by being cold towards a kid that didn’t deserve it… Sometimes I wonder if my stubbornness and desire for revenge for my parents was the point of no return to the unfortunate events that led to all the sorrow we’ve suffered.”

“You can’t blame yourself for something you had no control over, Dick. The only one here at fault is the Joker.” You moved from the dresser, sitting down next to him on the bed. He winced at hearing that name, telling yourself you would never mention it again in the future in front the Wayne’s.

Dick nodded, sniffling and inattentively rotating the box in his hand. “Well, I—” He chuckled. “I didn’t come here to damper the night. This is for you.” He handed you the box, the seal already cut. “Alfred mentioned he wanted to buy you a phone but didn’t have time to do so with… And I assumed you wouldn’t want to go back to the mall —or the city— any time soon. I already saved all our numbers, so that you can keep in touch with Steph and Dami once they go back to school next week. I know being cooped in here all day must be so boring, so I hope it can help make the days go faster.

The phone was the most recent model, a couple of apps pre-installed, eight contacts saved on your phone, your eyes lingering on Jason’s name.

“I feel bad, now.”

That most certainly was not what Dick was expecting, brows furrowed and blinking.

“What for?”

“I tried to stab you… Or well, wanted to.”

He opened his mouth, whatever he wanted to say dying before the words could leave his lips. “Now, why would you do that?”

“I was scared!” You stood up, walking to your nightstand and pulling out the forgotten scalpel, handing it to Dick. “It was when I still thought you were a bunch of kidnappers… If it makes you feel any better, I don’t want to stab you anymore.”

“Gee, that’s a relief.” Dick’s shoulders shook with mirth. “Thanks for thrusting us and giving this back.”

“Yeah, now I know your family is crazy, but for a whole different reason.” Silence befell you, Dick nodding at the accurate description of his siblings. You felt different now that you didn’t have the scalpel anymore. You felt light, free, the heavy burden of distress lifting of your shoulders. By handing it, you were giving away your only way to defend yourself, and thus, you were finally letting go any doubts you could have about them. “Hey, Dick?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you… Can you really take me back home?”

“We’re working on it, Jane.”

You hummed, noticing he’d changed his always optimistic response to a very vague one.

———

Both you and Cass had spent most of the next morning goofing off with the phone’s camera filters, using the goofiest one’s you could find. That was until you had to hide from a furious Damian, searching for you to delete the photo you took of him with bunny ears and nose.

“That’s not fair!” You half whispered, half shouted from behind a couch. “I can’t climb that high!”

Cass smiled widely from over the rafters in the ceiling, hiding herself in the shadows when the hurrying steps were getting closer and closer. You tried to blend in yourself with the couch, calming your breathy giggles.

“Cain! Jane!” Damian hollered. “I will behead you if you do not delete that picture at this instant!”

Your muffled titter turned into full on cackling when Damian jumped from over the couch, doing his best to grab your phone, which you were holding on to for dear life. For being ten, the kid was strong.

“I surrender!” You screamed; your cheeks were hurting from smiling so much. “I surrender!”

“Delete that photo, now.” Damian glowered, and you did, pulling out your phone and tilting the screen slightly for him to see you open the gallery and deleting the picture. “Tt. This better not happen again.”

Only until he left did Cass jumped from the rafters.

“Traitor.” You crossed your arms, playfully sticking out your tongue to her, to which she simply hugged you.

———

Your life had turned an eternal summer vacation. You had no responsibilities to fulfill, no school, no job, no chores, you would simply wake up and exist, sometimes helping out Alfred in the garden.

Contrary to all beliefs, it wasn’t the blessing most thought it would be, neither Cass nor Tim could spend time with you anymore, a grisly trafficking case appearing in the city a couple nights ago. Since Cass was completely committed to the mission, she was down on the cave most of the time, starting her patrol earlier than usual.

During the mornings, Tim was forced to go to W.E as the CEO now that Bruce was ‘unavailable’ with a ‘family matter’, and working down on the cave as well when he was home.

As much as you thought you’d broken down Damian’s cold demeanor, he’d reverted to his usual spoiled brat attitude, doubling it up now that school started the next day, deciding that if he was forced to be miserable, he was going to make everyone miserable.

Dick was out of planet on an emergency with the Justice League, stepping into Bruce’s place. And you hadn’t seen much of Steph since the day of the attack, she’d only visited the manor once on a bat related incident, but also preoccupied with high school.

There were not many people who could make the clock move forward, and so, you were forced —really— to one and your last resort, the black, taunting text conversation the thing you’d been contemplating more than anything this past two days, the ‘online’ status rarely lighting up throughout the day (no, you were not stalking him, you were simply getting informed), the white and gray predetermined icon annoying (was that because he didn’t have a photo, or he simply didn’t have you saved on his phone?).

What could you say? ‘Hi’ was too bland, ‘Hey, this is Jane’ was too-business like for your liking. A selfie? Nah, too narcissistic.

But it gave you an idea, searching your gallery for one of the thousand photos you’d taken with Cass, the both of you with digital bat stickers all over your face. In a brave, but truly stupid moment of courage, you hit send, hastily locking your phone and tossing it onto your bed, the device getting lost in your mess of blankets and pillows.

Fuck, what had you done? Your heart was racing a thousand beats per minute, feeling it bump into your chest, chiding yourself for being so stupid, what if he didn’t reply? Would it be worse if he left you on read, or to find out you were such an irksome he wouldn’t even open your messages? But if he replied? What would he say? React with an emoji? How could you continue the conversation after that? What if the asked you to delete his number? Did you still have time to delete the text? But he would still have the notification and— ding.

The chime stopped your spiraling thoughts. Should you open it? Wait? Destroy your phone? Pretend you meant to send it to Cass? Come on now, whatever he sent can’t be that bad.

              | I have a cute sister.

The message read. Well, it certainly wasn’t the end of the world.

              | And your sister has a cute friend;)

You sent back, feeling bold at receiving a positive reply.

| I don’t think I’ve met her. I only know two of them and one is annoying… The other one is a blonde obsessed with the color purple.

Despite being called annoying, there was a smile on your face.

 ��            | I’ve met the first one, she’s quite lovely and funny.

              | Really? Maybe I should take her out on a date.

              | Maybe you should.

There truly was something wrong with Gotham’s water if you were so boldly flirting with him, flirting with an effing crime lord, all those chemicals spilled onto it changing your very DNA.