#like id let him be running around id find him completely wet

[kingcunny]

this is what silverwing saw when she looked at ulf

[tyunn1ngz]

yeonjun nsfw alphabet

cw: lots of afab!reader but no gender stated!

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

runs u a nice bath— most of the time w him bathing w u bc of ur insistence; words of praise, crinkled eyes with gentle smiles as he kisses into ur wet skin hehe

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

of his i can definitely see it being his mouth, and who wouldn’t b obsessed w lips like that!!!!!!!!!! likes how they look covered in ur lipstick, bruised from kisses, covered in ur cum and everything along that nature<3

on you i think it’d be ur thighs or ur ass, mainly based on how much he gropes his members as is LOL. loves the plush of ur thighs in every position, loves biting and groping at the soft skin and leaving his mark on u <3 thinks theyre especially cute when they tremble when u feel particularly good ^_^

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

lovvvesssssss cumming in u when u’ll let him (read: always) — doesn’t cum a whole lot nor is it thick but he’ll make sure u take every drop until he’s sure u’ll probably have a scare … shrugs …

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

probably lowk does hope he’ll knock u up even tho u guys r so adamant that ur not ready ٩(^‿^)۶

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

a little experienced maybe but doesn’t necessarily transfer every detail to his next partner if that makes sense? he knows generally not everyone feels pleasure the same ways and at the same levels so while he thinks he knows what hes doing he likes the confirmation and a little guidance where necessary bc he rly wants it to be good for u

f = favourite position (this goes without saying)

missionary w ur thighs over his hips … what more can i say

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

definitely likes to joke around, he can be serious if u really want that but if u want him as he is hes gonna be giggling and smiling bc he just loves u so much he cant believe he gets to have u like this!!!!!!! probably gets more serious the closer he is to cumming hehe can’t hold himself together long enough to even try giggling <3

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

well groomed id say he cares abt his appearance but not to the point where hes completely bare i dont think , just well kept ! :]

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

hes romantic in the aspect of making u feel comfortable w him, like w the answer for G i think he can be quite silly during but thats what makes it more intimate bc its u two getting to know each others bodies best!!! just loving on each other, holding each other close and giggling into each others mouths which occasionally breaks off into pretty moans

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

loves to send u videos of himself jerking off imo !!!!! if hes not filming it for u i cant imagine he cares much for getting off by himself at all anymore whats the point of that!!!!!

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

hmmmmmm said it before but spit is a big one for him i think !! drooly kisses, calling u his good baby when he spits in ur mouth, spitting on ur cunt before he fucks u open w his tongue and fingers … the possibilities r simply endless !

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

probably likes a little thrill, semi public spaces and such where its not THAT likely someone will find/hear u but just a sliver of a chance perhaps ฅ/ᐠ. ̫ .ᐟ\ฅ bathroom at a party or smth is probably the riskiest he’ll go <3 otherwise just either of ur homes is the way to go !!

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

literally almost anything abt u but especially i think any glimpses he would get of ur hips or thighs during the day would make him froth a little and he starts to think more abt those thighs on either sides of his head— all thoughts out of his own perverse nature

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

as much as theres a general hc i cant see him as a hard mean dom but that could just b me and to each their own!!! he’s realistically too much of a sweetheart so the idea of being especially mean to u ever even if its meant to be hot just doesn’t rly quite do it for him but he’s willing to try at least once if thats what u really want

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

oh hes a GIVER. that boy is a MUNCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and hes GOOD AT IT!!!!!!!!!!! the teasing leadup, the way he gives himself into it wholeheartedly, moaning into u like its him getting off… and again! that mouth! case closed!!!!

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

depends on how pent up he is!!! generally he likes it fast but not too rough, but sometimes he gets worked up enough he’s a little rougher and harder w it, or whenever u want it he’ll get a little rougher !! however u want it, he’s willing to give it to u<3 almost always its sensual tho have u seen his hips :3

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

would probs love a good quickie but prefers when he has the time to tease u up to ur orgasm, knowing u always come harder w the anticipation and perhaps just a little edging :p

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

definitely game to experiment especially if theres smth u wanna try and u get so squirmy and heated in the face talking abt it, probably not too risky tho!!! nothing that could seriously hurt u or himself

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

stamina is pretty criminal, could take u for about 3 rounds before he finally tires out but only for a break, then he’s on u for ur fourth orgasm on his tongue, strong ass jaw workout ill tell u that

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

YES! vibrators absolutely, nice silk ropes for bondage, pretty glass dildos to use on u, a galore of things he wants to try on you but sometimes he thinks abt you using them on him and gets himself so hard he thinks he could cum in his pants if u so much as kissed him

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

a LOT !!! but thats all part of his foreplay ur just so easy to rile up and so cute to make squirm under just his fingertips

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

pretty loud ? but not much and not on purpose, breathless moans that break off into longer pitchier whines when pleasure wracks through his body hehe

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he’s definitely cum in his pants more than once just from eating u out

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

honestly? i think he wouldn’t actually be that big like average or even just a bit below BUT!!! that’s just the thing isn’t it bc size doesn’t matter if u know how to use it! and lord does he!!!!!!!!

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

pretty high, but can u blame him when he has someone as stunning as u to always be his

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

i don’t think he’d fall asleep fast unless u guys have had Excessive rounds … but anyway defo stays up w ur head pressed to his chest, playing w ur hair and telling u silly stories until u fall asleep first <3

[141goblin]

Soft: Chapter Four.

—> Chapter three

CW: Slightly suggestive. Hangover.

A/N: I posted the wrong chapter by accident🤦🏼‍♀️my bad. This chapter is a little short but I promise, it’ll get juicy soon :3

I wake up the next morning to find Amelia already gone and a little note laying on my bedside table, scrawled in her writing.

“Early shift at work, gotta go. Love you x”

The second I make any attempt to sit up out of bed, my head begins pounding, a cruel reminder of the sheer amount of alcohol I consumed last night. Yet another stupid decision that’ll make me waste another day lazing around and not doing anything productive. I somehow manage to stumble out of bed and into my bathroom. Because i’m an idiot, I slept in my makeup, breaking one of the most important rules I ever set for myself; never ever sleep in makeup. Crumbs of mascara descend down my dehydrated cheeks, lipstick clinging to the dry parts of my lips.

I wash away the remnants, praying that a bit of cold water and soap will help me to feel a bit more like a human being, rather than a zombie. It does, but not by much. The next thing on my list is to eat something, a proper meal, rather than just bits and pieces of random things laying around my cupboards. I usually opt for what known as ‘girl dinner’, a random assortment of little snacks. My go-to has been pickles with some tortilla chips, and apple slices with peanut butter. Instead of my usual ‘girl dinner’, I make myself a small bowl of pasta with some leftover sauce I have. Carbs will soak up the alcohol, I think.

Once I have something substantial in my stomach, the hangover is slowly starting to fade. It’s still there, but it’s gone from unbearable to just unpleasant. My head still hurts, but the spinning has subsided, luckily. I open my curtains and the windows, letting in some air to rid the smell of wine and takeaway food from my flat. It doesn’t take me long to clear up, putting the empty bottles and packages into the bin and the dirty clothes into the laundry. Now, my flat actually looks somewhat homely, rather than a biohazard. Look at me go, I think.

It’s well into the day, almost 3pm when I decide to reward myself with some well-earned phone time of scrolling on the same three apps for longer than i’d like to. I get into position on the couch, legs sprawled out and open tik-tok, scrolling endlessly on silly videos of cats that warm my heart and stupid memes. I make a mental note to look into getting a cat after I’ve learned to take care of myself. Id love a cat right now, but the poor thing wouldn’t last long. I can’t even look after myself most of the time, let alone another living thing.

The ‘ding’ of the washing machine interrupts my phone time and forces me to get my arse up and finish my chores. I drag the wet clothes out and carry them over to the dryer, turning it on and letting it run. After that, I scoop up the warm, dry clothes off the floor and carry them into my bedroom to fold and put away, like the responsible, functioning adult i’m pretending to be. I’m stopped in my tracks when I plop down on my bed and see a suit jacket hanging up on the drawer of my dresser.

Price’s jacket. Shit, his text.

The laundry gets completely forgotten and I pull up his message from last night.

Unknown: Lovely seeing you tonight, dove. Think you still have my jacket. -JP

My brain begins spinning again as I try to formulate some sort of answer that will make me seem like a normal human being. It takes me a good few minutes of typing and then deleting, but I get there in the end.

Me: I apologise for my rant, I was a bit of a mess. Let me know when you’re free and we can arrange getting your jacket back to you. P.s. the party wasn’t that bad.

I hit send on the message and eagerly await his response, like a teenager with a crush. Fucking stupid, I think. The first time a man has shown me attention in a few weeks and here I am, waiting with baited breath for him to-

Unknown: I told you, dove, no apologies. There’s fire in you, I like that. And as for the jacket, there’s no rush. Hope your head isn’t too sore today. -JP

I giggle like a schoolgirl as soon as I read his text. My brain is screaming because the handsome man with the broad shoulders is texting me, but I take a deep breath to calm the giddiness. He hasn’t exactly left it open-ended so I decide not to reply and wait for him to text next, not wanting to get too ahead of myself, only to be let down because I jumped to conclusions.

I finish the rest of my chores, his texts pinging in my brain. I start to imagine what it’d sound like in his voice as i’m doing the dishes from tonight’s dinner. I imagine his deep, rumbly voice, the voice that makes my fucking bones tingle and brain shake in my skull. I imagine pressing my face against his neck as he talks, feeling the vibrations against my lips. I imagine his voice calling me that stupid nickname, ‘Dove’. I’ve never been called that before, by anyone else, but it’s fast becoming my favourite nickname. It’s better than ‘hot tits’, anyway, the name my ex-boyfriend used to call me when he’d try to be smooth. When I think about it, my ex is nothing compared to Price. Sure, he’s tall and conventionally attractive, but he doesn’t have the same attitude he does. He doesn’t exude masculinity and confidence the way he does.

For fuck sake, I’ve only met the man once and here I am fantasising about him while I pretend to watch yet another rerun of gilmore girls, my attention on him rather than the screen.

I know i’m getting ahead of myself, getting too excited, but I can’t bring myself to care. For the first time in a long time, I let myself indulge in the thoughts and fantasies about the handsome man i’ve only met once. The thoughts continue well into the night, from when I curl up on the couch, to when I settle into bed, hand between my thighs and mind full of his voice. My sticky skin shines with sweat and my moans echo off the walls of my bedroom. I’d normally worry about being heard by the neighbours, but my mind is too full of Price to give a shit.

tags: @izziyuwh @a66-1 @jenniferpendragon @girl-of-multi-fandoms

[stxrlng]

Papi

pairing: miguel o’hara+fem reader

warnings: Breeding, older man younger girl, def daddy kink in here, BIG DADDY MIGUEL, his fangs and claws come out👄,blood‼️, DEGRADING

am i lowkey the only horny after this🤞🏽

“Miguel listen to me, please don't leave me I know it’d be shameful if people found out but I love you and I don’t care” I cry to him as his gaze turns cold at what I've said if looks could kill id be dead right now “You're not understanding the situation WHY IS IT SO FUCKING HARD TO UNDERSTAND”.

He paces around the small room a loud crash comes from where he's standing in the bedroom “FUCK” he screams he has kicked the bookshelf he looks back at me with tears in his eyes “Miguel,” I say softly as I sit back on the mattress his slow unsure steps come closer to me as he settles down next to me laying his head on my shoulder and wrapping his arms around me “I'm sorry baby” his words full of shame.

I lay back with his arms around me his body 10x more relaxed than it was five minutes ago it feels like we’ve laid there for ages my hand runs through his short beautiful brown locks his breath shallows as sleep takes him but I'm as awake as I could ever be a sad smile pulls to my lips the thought of him leaving me makes me wanna not wanna live but knowing that he's okay makes me happy.

———time passed-Miguel’s pov

I slip from her arms sitting up on the not so comfortable bed rubbing my face and soothing the stress away me and her aren’t supposed to be together she’s nineteen I’m thirty-two that isn't right I work at a top company if someone finds out id be done for.

Rising completely walking into the small bathroom connected to her room rid myself of my clothes run my hand threw my messy hair I take a short step to the shower and turn the knob hot water pours down i step in as the water hits my skin.

I stand under the water as i relax and let all my worries ago for the next ten minutes “Miguel?” i turn my head to see y/n taking off her clothes to get in with me “Yes baby” she looks up opening the glass door stepping in then closing it “Are you okay” her question makes me ask my self how shitty do i look for her to ask me that “i’m fine” I look away from her to the water and close my eyes her hand ghost over my back hesitantly then they plant themselves there in the middle of my back her small hands dig into my skin I bring my hands up and set them on the shower wall she then wraps her arms around me her head lays on my shoulder.

Her hands move lower to the point they hang on my hips her fingers ghost over my abdomen my hips jerk in a fast motion she never once went further than that without asking “Can I?” the question floats in the small space i nod my head yes she plants her hands on my v line the heat sends pleasure waves through me.

her small hands then wrap around my groin I throw my head back “Ohh fuck” The slow up and down motion she’s doing throws me into a euphoric state i turn with speed she’s never seen grabbing her and pulling her against me picking her up her head goes to my shoulder “Por favor mi amor déjame poner un bebé en ti” she then wraps her legs around me i suck and bite at her neck her moans low and sweet just for me.

——— y/n pov

my hands leave his cock as he picks me up i place my hands on his neck and tuck my self into his shoulder he nips at me his fangs come out as the graze my skin my head throws back in a shock and pleasure and pain as he bites down hard causing blood to run down my neck.

his claws dig into me almost breaking skin “N-no please Miggy stop” he was too gone he thrust up into me my walls clench trying to stop the entry “Shut the fuck up bitch and take it” his words made me as wet as the shower.

he was never one for lots of degrading he likes it but it can be a lot today seemed to be different he’s losing control on purpose his eyes red he’s breathing heavy he still his thrust as he bottomed out leaving me to feel split open.

“por favor papi dame un segundo” trying to catch my breath i squeeze around him his hips jerk up “Lo haré si dejas de apretarme como una putita” he then folds me up to where my knees to my shoulders and my feet behind my head pushes me against the wall.

he pulls out my hole stretched out ready to be filled again he pushes back in at a unexpected pace he growls my whimpers and moans are loud enough the whole building could probably hear but i didn’t care tears well in my eyes as a tingly feeling deep in my abdomen grew.

“I love you so much mi amor your so beautiful and the way your pretty pussy wraps around me makes me see stars” his words float in the shower the steam and the smell of sex over rides all my senses my back arches as a toe curling orgasm takes over me his thrust are deep and touch every place i didn’t know existed in me.

his hand made its way to my throat squeezing for good measure he thrust one more time before i release my body shakes my eyes roll to the back of my head my throbbing core is the only thing that i real right now “M-Miggy you feel to good” my sobs make it hard to talk “It’s okay baby let it out gimme one more” No my eyes wide at what he said i don’t know if i can do another one.

A moment later a much stronger orgasm flows through me his hand drops from my neck to my clit he draws small and fast circles on it making my whole body feel as if I’ve fallen into a new dimension “Oh good girl” His praise makes me feel good.

“Shit baby i’m so close ima give u a baby make you look even more pretty with a round belly” his words awoke something in me the urge to be pregnant just fills my mind.

his thrust get sloppy he whimpers into my neck as he stills and lets out a low moan as he cums deep into me he stays there for a few minutes then looks up kissing my lips before helping me down cleaning me up and drying me off.

[definitelynotnia]

long ass post under the cut T-T i needed to tell somebody about my day i have no one else to tell so...yeah

be me

barely finish two hours of sleep from 5:30am to 7:30 am

wake up to the sound of feral screaming and shouting as is customary in a desi household at peak school timing

brother has lost id card which he needs in order to go to inter school cricket competition which is today- housewide search for id card resulting in failure

mother screaming and shouting at brother for being useless and brother frantically running around...being useless...

decide to give up and get out of bed because ear drums have burst already, and staying in bed after brother leaves means mothers wrath on me for "sleeping all day"

call up bus driver to plead with him to wait for brother before leaving, call up cricket team coach to plead with him to let brother compete without id card, convince both

inform mother and watch brother leave, 1 second after which mother remembers she forgot to give him yet another document, run behind brother in bed clothes with said document

catch up with brother only to see him making the most wet puppy sobby face bcz bus driver ditched, take a long fucking sigh because eldest daughter i-must-fix-everything syndrome will be the death of me

go back up to grab cash, hurriedly inform mother of situation and run with brother and his heavier-than-me cricket kit to catch auto

reach school on time dressed like a homeless person with oversized dads tshirt, flannel jacket thingy three times my size and the pinkest pants to exist- only thing holding back a complete breakdown is one (1) clutcher making me look borderline decent with a sorrowful fashion sense and greasy ass hair

take auto halfway back home only to realise autowala won't go further than certain point so walk 15 minutes till nearest auto stand in aforementioned homeless clothing, take another auto and call mother to inform of proceedings

cut call only to realise autowala has crossed destination and taken you further than necessary bcz both places have similar names and they misunderstood, walk back again for 10 minutes completely dehydrated and ready to collapse

get call from mother informing you to buy things for house, walk BACK AGAIN to store, buy some things, walk to another store, buy more things, reach home walking

come home to find that mother asked for things because brother left physics project of making electromagnet (which we got done from an actual electrician after much failed attempts by me and mother) with the switch on overnight resulting in battery to be drained out

realise electrician superglued every.thing. and SOLDERED the ends of the wire to the battery, cut apart whole project and sit and remake the whole thing

brother comes home later, tell him how to work the electromagnet and tell him to label it with his name, watch brother paste one singular piece of paper onto project (his only contribution) and then proclaim that HE had made the project so nicely uwu

ok to be fair he did come to me later when he overheard my mom talking to my dad on call about what all happened today and he came and gave me a hug and said thank you and....yeah, worth it.

[buoyant-breeze]

baths with genshin characters..... ❤❤💞♥️💞🥰😘😭😭😭😭 if u can, could u do that one but with xiao, albedo and kazuha? 🥺🥺🥺 love u MWAH

authors note  ⊱ im gonna scream u chose a handful of my faves,,,,,,,, I ADORE THIS,,,, I PRESENT TO U UR FEAST,,, I LOVE U TOO MWAH MWAH!!

part one (diluc, kaeya)

part three (childe)

part four (venti, zhongli)

characters ⊱ xiao, albedo, kazuha

warnings ⊱ mentions of literal trauma but no details are given! other than that, completely safe! enjoy!

rating ⊱ sfw, but mildly suggestive (for albedo’s and ESPECIALLY kazuha’s), so viewer discretion is advised, id probably reccommend 16+ for kazuha’s

xiao

you bathe together, but it is mostly you bathing him

xiao does not know how to treat himself gently, to be forgiving and kind with his emotional scars and lingering effects of trauma

you initiate this like you initiate most of your interactions with him; you pull him in gently, guiding him towards the bath, and he looks at you in question, but he trusts you, so he follows your lead

he’s a little embarrassed, borderline shy, but he doesn’t resist when you wet down his hair, running creamy soap through it

when you touch his shoulders and tenderly wash his skin, it’s... it’s vulnerable, it’s special, and it is overwhelmingly pure

he has never been loved like this. not even by himself

but there you are, taking your time, caring for him, not judging him even when he was at his most fragile

he’s trembling by the end of it, breath leaving him in shaky, shallow exhales

he can’t tell you what it means to him aloud, because he can’t find the words, and what ones he could piece together don’t quite emulate what he feels

but what he can do, and what he does, instead, is he turns around in the tub slowly, hands lingering on your sides, resting his mouth against your forehead

and then, before you know it, he’s reciprocating everything you gave him, right back at you

his touch is gentle; as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear

you probably linger in the water after, enjoying each other’s company in relative silence, simply being a comfort to one another

and when it grows cold, he helps you out of the bath, pressing an inaudible thank you into the exposed spaces of your skin

albedo

he’s the type of person that would bathe you as a form of comfort

you’ve had a rough day, you’re tired, your eyes are puffy from crying, you haven’t been in the best mental space, the whole deal—and he presses his lips to your eyelids and says, “come on, let me take care of you.”

and he means it. he takes care of you.

he draws you a warm bath, but he also brings you some tea. he gently helps you undress, lightly batting your fingers away when you try to help—and if you keep insisting, he shakes his head and murmurs, “more efficient this way. and you need to be loved for a while.”

it’s almost heartbreakingly sweet: he asks you if the temperature is okay, alters it to your liking, and then he helps you into the bath, stroking back your hair against your head, damping it down

to put this more into perspective: when we’re in our adolescence, generally, we’re always taken care of by someone. that person always takes their time with us, giving us patience, accepting us even at our lowest. because we mean something to them. but at some point, we grow older, and people no longer give us that same, unconditional love, nor do they give us that patience, that kindness, that acceptance, and that care

but albedo does, he will give you all of those things and it’s overwhelming because when was the last time someone loved you like that? if ever?

and it makes his way of viewing this, his way of saying ‘you need to be loved for a while,’ hit a little differently

because he’s loving you. he’s showing you love because you need it and you deserve it, and it’s incomparable to any love you could fully give to yourself—not because your self-love is inferior, but because someone else is seeing worth in you, just like you see worth in yourself

so, he’s taking care of you the entire way through.

you have your tea, you sit in the bath, and he does most of the work. his touch is attentive and lingering, radiating nothing but comfort and assurance.

the entire time, he’s talking to you softly, maybe saying certain things to try and get you to smile or laugh, even though his humor is pretty dry. sometimes tells you compliments, things he loves about you. it’s easy for him to ramble, but it’s also easy for him to listen. (you can tell him about what troubles you. you can tell him about old memories. you can tell him about random trivia you learned. you can just tell him how you feel, or what you’re thinking, or what you want to do. whatever it is, he’ll listen, remember, and ask questions.)

not the type of person to really bathe with you; he might shower with you, but that carries a decently-sized risk of getting heated

dries you off personally, but it is a slow, sensual act, where he is taking his time, treasuring you, leaving fleeting kisses on your skin whenever he can

kazuha

loves, loves, loves bathing with you; he probably asks you to join him

it’s vulnerable enough where he might blush, but there is no shyness to the way he leads you in

there is also no shyness to his touch

it is very much body worship in nature—he caresses the shape of you, memorizing each nook and cranny, whispering poetic comparisons into your damp shoulder as he helps you scrub clean. he might compare any freckles or sunspots to starlight and constellations, scars and stretchmarks to lightning and thunderstorms, or your softness to clouds and flower petals.

he says these things airily, as if he is winded by the sight of you alone, and given how sincere he is, it is most certainly true

it is easy for this sensual act to turn into a more intimate territory (if that was within your comfort zone), so there is always that, as well

it’s just too tempting for him to get lost in you, enraptured by your intricacies; he just wants to know them all

loves physical affection, so he’s very touchy/handsy the entire time; he leaves kisses behind your ear whenever he pushes your hair back, he mouths along your shoulder or your throat, and his hands tend to wander as he works

but as much as he loves giving, ever inclined to be a service to you, he also adores recieving

he melts when you run your hands through his hair, or lather his skin with soap; he is leaning into your touch like an eager cat, eyes fluttering closed, sighing deeply and openly with pure relief

ticklish on his scars; he’ll giggle under his breath each time you ghost your hands over the raised skin

likes to cuddle a bit in the bath afterwards, clinging onto your body in the warm water until it’s just about to become cold

by the time you two come out, you’re both pretty pruny, and he will kiss your wet-wrinkled fingers with adoring eyes and a soft laugh

[derpy-dogs-n-cats]

Mistakes.

Main Masterlist

Obey Me Masterlist

Yandere! Mammon x GN! Reader/MC.

Warnings: Yandere stuff, past kidnapping mentioned, physical abuse, blood, light nudity, implied attempted non-con.

Summary: After finally having an opportunity to escape from your harsh reality, you're unfortunately forced to find out what a grave mistake it is in the worst ways possible.

W/C: 800+

You continue to run, forced to ignore the ache in your legs telling you to stop while your mind runs over the previous events, trying to make sure you didn’t overlook anything. Just a few moments prior, your captor had stumbled through the door of your ‘shared’ bedroom; completely wasted. He had gone out to celebrate over some reason you couldn’t quite remember and returned at the dark early hours of the morning.

As soon as Mammon stumbled in, you immediately took notice of him having forgotten to place back down the curse on the door, the one that kept you from leaving. You waited as patiently as you could with trembling hands until he fell asleep after having failed to keep himself upright enough to ‘celebrate’ with you. Having passed out on top of you, you pushed him aside as carefully as possible before quietly making your way to the door.

After having spent so long locked away with your legs getting unaccustomed to much movement, they threatened to give up on you until you finally fell. You let out a frustrated shaky breath, trying to get yourself back up with the aid of your arms, wanting to put more distance between you despite having been running for what felt like so long. “Would you look at that?” You hear a voice coming from above you say, drawing your attention to look up.

“What do we have here?” Another one says, with a less than comforting smile, and you quickly come to realize that you’re surrounded by three demons. “They’re a pretty little thing.” The third one says, displaying its sharp teeth. “Oh, I’m gonna enjoy tearing this one apart.” The second one moans, getting you to look back at its darkened silhouette. You quickly stand to sprint away but easily get pinned down by the three of them, feeling them holding onto your limbs tightly.

“No! PLEASE STOP!” You scream to which they laugh, your struggles earning you scratches from their sharp claws. “What’s wrong?! I bet your flesh tastes as pure as your broken soul!” The first one shouts over your cries before they start turning you around to lay you over your stomach. You continue to cry while they tear the edges of your clothes, landing more scratches and deep cuts in the process, too occupied to notice anything else.

You hear a familiar ringing and look forward to notice your phone laying on the ground with a cracked screen displaying Mammon’s ID name. You struggle to reach forward to it while feeling multiple sharp piercing pains on your body quickly followed by the wet sensation of your blood gushing out. You finally manage to answer the call with another pained scream at the sound of a crack from your body.

“MAMMON! PLEASE! I’M SORRY! I-” You get cut off by a sharp slap landing on the side of your face. “SHUT IT!” One of them yells before smashing your phone to pieces. “NO! STOP!” You cry as they turn you to your back again, each pulling at your limbs to tear them from your torso. A loud crackling noise is heard, making them pause their movements and look in the same direction to which you follow with what little you can lift your head, looking forward.

Mammon stands before you, staring down the other demons with a piercing gaze that forces them to scramble away from you, releasing your limbs and letting him see the gashes littering your nearly naked body from the tearing of your clothes. “Close your eyes.” Mammon stares at you intensely while slowly raising a hand as the other lower demons start shouting and begging for forgiveness, knowing that regardless of his idiocy, his power is nothing to scoff at.

Your arms are quick to place themselves at the sides of your head, facing away with your eyes squeezing shut to brace yourself, and as soon as you do; the ground quakes beneath you. Screams of agony fill your ears, the screams seeming to never end as opposed to you having thought that it would be quick, unaware that Mammon is purposefully giving them a slow, agonizing death. Fortunately, the screams eventually stop, by then more tears having left wet trails on your face.

You slowly move to sit up while uncovering your ears just as slowly, looking around you to see the bodies to pieces, seemingly having been pulled apart much like how they attempted to do to you. Once your eyes fall to Mammon’s pristine form, you break out a small cry, standing and running to his arms as best as you can with the pain running through your body.

He takes you in his arms to keep you from falling over as you cry in his chest, soaking his shirt in your tears and blood “I’m so sorry! Please! I’m sorry! I should’ve never left! Please take me back!” You repeatedly apologize as he sets his jacket over your body, shielding your bare body from the cold early morning air. As he listens to your cries, he considers briefly degrading you for having left before deciding to simply pick up your crying form in his arms and carry you back.

[apocalypticgargoyle]

okay okay could i request some nsfw with professor!techno giving a little extra praise to one of his students and asking to see them after class (presumably a bad grade of sort, but thats most certainty not the case). I love your writing by the way !! could i be <3 anon?? thank you so muchhh !!!! :DD

˚⸙͎۪۫⋆ welcome <3 anon ˚⸙͎۪۫⋆

im going fucking feral for this idea, thank you for gifting it to me. i- my mind went to dark academia!techno and i lost it. if y'all know me irl, you don't after this. also this techno fanart by EtecteraArt, if you don't have clear skin yet.

𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒. ⚚ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫!𝐓𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐨

pairing: professor!technoblade x fm!reader

± warnings: nsfw (minors dni), pure filth, professor/student, slight degradation, domination, minimal dialogue

It started out as shameless flirting for you. You’d wear the most revealing thing your closet held, crossing your legs and leaning over to pick up a pencil just so you could show him the curvature of your body. You’d tie your hair up or pull it away from your neck when you answered one of his questions, basking in the slight smirk painting his face as his eyes surveyed your movements. You chewed on the ends of your pens and wore a shade of lipstick you knew would draw in his attention. You were positive your fellow lecture members cast their eyes downward at you, believing he was giving you special treatment just because you toyed with him. 

You made sure to show him you knew what you were talking about and actively studying his assignments and works published by him. You were, in a word, hopelessly obsessed with Techno. This obsession led to his appraisal in class when you could fully grasp a more advanced concept he had posed. You didn’t even care about the other girls’ glared burning into your shoulder from behind you as he favored you over them. 

One day in particular, you came to class a bit earlier with a coffee for him in your hand. You stopped before entering, pressing your back against the outside wall beside the door as you heard a feminine voice cooing to him. You smugly enjoyed the tone of his voice as he countered their attempts to hit on him with a grace only a man like him could muster. He thanked the woman for coming in and told her that his office hours were open if she needed actual help on an assignment. You swiped your thumb across your bottom lip before smearing the hue of your lipstick against the white plastic lid of the coffee cup. It was barely noticeable, something only he would take note of. 

The woman exited the room, brushing your shoulder as she went past you. The two of you shared a look that could equate to two territorial wolves in a dispute. The only leverage you had was that he never shot you down, in fact, you noticed he usually enjoyed your under-the-collar comments. As you turned into the room, you noticed him lean back in his chair, running his fingers into his short pink hair and shutting his eyes slightly with a sigh. 

You chewed the corner of your cheek as you approached the lecture desk, his eyes prying open with a small smile as he spotted you. “Good morning, Professor,” you hummed, setting the coffee in front of him. He sent you a hint of a grateful look as students began to file into the room. You turned on your heel and walked to find your seat, swaying your hips slightly, only because you knew he was staring after you. 

As you settled in, you watched Techno bring the cup towards his mouth before his eyes darted to the edge of the lid. With the ghost of a smirk swirling into his expression, he looked up to make direct eye contact with you before pressing his lips to the spot and drinking from the cup. Your breath hitched, heat pulsing through your body at the slight gesture from him. You studied him as he swallowed, letting his tongue dart out to wet his lips as if he were further savoring the mild taste of you from the lid; something an outsider wouldn’t have noticed. 

You clenched your thighs together as you thought about his rejection of other girl’s advances while now he was practically eye-fucking you from across the lecture hall. 

That lecture had been an hour and a half of agony. Your tongue wettened as he twisted a pen in his hand absent-mindedly as he lectured on Eros, his eyes surveying your reactions as he’d quietly roll the pen in his fingers. You weren’t sure how he could have such an effect on you without even touching you. You knew the other girls were squirming in their seats as he sat on the edge of his desk, leaning his elbows on his knees as he answered questions towards the end. 

All you wanted to do was get out of the lecture hall and do what you always did after his class: shower in cold water and plan your next phase of attack. 

Techno had other plans. 

He called out your name at the end of class, meeting your eyes as he instructed you to meet him for office hours. You hear someone whine next to you, nearly making you laugh as you agreed. 

And that’s how you found yourself, pulling the door shut to his office behind you. He dug into a folder on his desk, setting a copy of your latest essay in front of him. Your eyes raked down his arms as he pulled his gold-rimmed glasses on top of his head and leaned over his desk, muscle tightening against the rolled sleeves of his shirt. “Come take a look at this,” he stated. Your eyes darted to the red pen marks, his handwriting only scripting praise on the first page. You knew you aced that essay before you’d even turned it into him. 

You smirked to yourself, dropping your bag beside one of his client chairs and mimicking his stance, planting your hands in the space between his. The size of him dwarfed you, making your mind race vulgarly. This was always how it was, you invading his personal space and him teasing you to go further. “What am I looking at, Professor?” You quizzed sheepishly, feigning innocence. 

You leaned your weight on one of your hands, the fingers of the other tracing closer to his large hand. He grabbed your wrist, pulling you just barely close enough to him that you could feel his breath. Your cheeks flushed, goosebumps spreading over your body. “You think I can’t see what you’re doing?” He needled, voice dropping an octave to send heat straight to your core. 

You gulped, practically tasting him he was so close to you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Professor. But I could learn,” you avowed; your words barely above a whisper. For a moment, you truly believed he would kiss you, his breath cascading over your face with sweet hints of mint and the coffee you’d bought him. 

His lips barely brushed against yours before he pulled away, sending fire to burn in your chest and your knees to turn to jelly. He stood back, his eyes dancing with a mocking ego, knowing he had you on a leash. He lowered into his seat, pressing his back against the leather of his chair, fingers tugging at his collar to undo a few buttons as he looked at your shocked and submissive frame. He chuckled darkly as he eyed you. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. You’re just a child,” he teased. 

You had half a mind to dig into your bag and sign over your ID to prove you were the opposite of his beratement. Instead, you let your breathing shallow, slowly walking around his desk. He tilted his head at you, watching you intently as you placed your hand on the back of his chair, and pushing him away from his desk. As you lowered to your knees, you allowed that hand to travel the length of his body. As your knees settled against the cold linoleum in front of him, you raked your nails down his thighs, making him chuckle softly, a sardonic expression flickering across his face. 

You sharpened your eye contact, your fingers nearly hooking around his belt loops. “Teach me then, Professor. Use me,” you practically begged, making Techno smirk, his hand moving to rest in the crook of your neck while the other supported his head. 

His fingers felt coarse against your skin, the feeling of him finally touching you nearly was enough to send you over the edge. You turned your head, pressing your lips to the inside of his wrist. “So needy. Like a lost puppy vying for my attention,” he mocked, gaze dancing from your lips to your eyes. “What would your boyfriend think of you like this? On your knees in front of a grown man.” His voice dripped with lust and restraint, yet he was completely calm and utterly in control. 

His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, almost mimicking your gesture from earlier as if he’d pictured your actions with his coffee lid. “I don’t have a boyfriend, Professor. And if I did, I doubt he would taste as good as you,” you muttered, silently signing over your soul to him. 

You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he debated what to do with you first. He pressed his thumb into your mouth, flattening your tongue with his finger pad. Your lips instantly closed around him, looking up at him with doe eyes. “Stop talking, pet,” he grumbled, the rest of his fingers angling your face closer to him and he leaned towards you. “If you’re going to beg like a toy, I’ll treat you like a toy,” he promised, making your heart flutter. 

He pulled his thumb from your mouth, only to wrap his hands around your throat, bringing your lips against his roughly. You moaned at the taste of him, wanting to swim against his tongue and give him your dying breath. He groaned into your mouth, kneading your bottom lip with his teeth. 

Techno tugged you to your feet, wrapping his hands around your thighs before pushing you on top of his desk. His hand slipped into your shirt, palming your breast while his other gripped at the flesh of your ass, pulling you closer to him as he ground his hips against yours. You tugged your hands through his soft hair, tugging slightly and savoring the moans he poured into your mouth. You wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting to alleviate whatever distance there was between the two of you. 

Your fingers moved to skim down his toned body, unzipping his pants and palming his cock outside of his boxers. His lips moved to dig his teeth into your shoulder, muffling his groans of praise as he ground against your hand. You panted at the loss of his lips on yours, digging your nose into the crook of his neck and inhaling deeply as he moaned your name. You were convinced you were trapped in one of your many daydreams involving him, but with each nip of his teeth sending a flush of pleasure to your core, you were reminded that he was in fact, about to ruin you. 

Techno pulled you off the desk, spinning you in his hold and bending you over the hardwood. You bit back a smirk as you heard him undo the rest of his zipper and discard his belt behind you. The anticipation of him made your knees shake as your hot breath drew clouds of moisture on his desk. His fingers pushed your skirt further up your hips, blunt nails dragging along the skin of your legs before gripping your hips. You felt him grind himself against your entrance, your mind already blurring with pleasure. He kicked your feet further apart. “God, I've wanted to do this for so long," he nearly growled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade before pushing himself into you. 

You moan, your body adjusting around his length, begging him for more. His hands gripped your hips, driving himself deeper into you, beginning an animalistic pace. You groaned out his name, one of his hands holding tightly onto your side to give himself more leverage. Your mind blurred, mouth hanging open slightly as your cheek was pressed firmly against the wood of his desk. 

Each of his thrusts sent a wave of pleasure coursing through your veins, as his deep, breathy moans hissed into your ear like a sinful symphony. His hand moved to thread his fingers through yours, giving you some kind of anchor as his large frame wreaked havoc on your body. You whimpered out moans of arousal with each of his movements. 

His teeth grazed against your neck again, dragging himself deeper into you. You picked your head up, reaching out one of your hands to grip the edge of the desk, hearing him chuckle behind you. His hand snaked around you to wrap around your neck, bringing you up a bit further as he pressed his lips to one of your flushed cheeks, probably basking in the beads of sweat dotting your hairline from his campaign. 

"Mark me," you begged. "I'm yours," you moaned, rolling your hips back against him. The satisfied moan that slithered from his lips sent goosebumps spreading against your skin. 

He dug his teeth into you, finger tightening around your neck and you knew the brushes he left would be enough of a sultry reminder to keep you wet for a week. 

He pulled you upward, pulling out of you only to put you back on his desk, pushing himself into you as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His lips melded against yours again, stealing your muttering of his name and replacing it with his hungry moans. 

You ground your hips into him, wrapping around him again as his lips moved to your neck, breath cold against the cold spots from his teeth previously and the thin sheen of sweat coating your skin. With the new angle and his hands digging into your back, your legs were beginning to shake, the tension he'd been binding was becoming too much to hold off. 

His hand tightened around your throat as if encouraging you to finish. He pulled your irritated lips towards him again, wanting to taste you as you went over the edge. 

After that day, you stopped dressing so provocatively. You could wear a turtleneck and padded jeans and you knew he'd still be looking. He knew what you looked like under those clothes: marked up from his teeth, quivering only for him. No longer was there shameless flirting, only glances that told you to wait for him after class. 

He was always hungry for you; whether it be in his car in a vacant lot, in his office to test his chair's range of movement, or in the bathroom of some random club you probably didn't have the qualifications to get into without him. It didn't matter, because he knew that you were his. 

You liked watching the other girls throw themselves at him like you had, mainly because he'd always praise you later with your lips around his cock. You were his favorite, his star student. In his eyes, you didn't hold a candle to the rest of them. 

[rafescoke]

Need To Know (Part 2) ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

#Part 2 

#Part 1

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Reader confronts Rafe about his past

Warnings: More angst, more flashback smut, substance, swearing, Rafe being a dick again

A/N: Thank you so much for the overwhelming love from my last post! I love you to the moon and back <3

p.s, my request box is always open for you to drop in any ideas!

“My god, you both look great.”

Rafe chuckled, too drunk to say anything, and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend of 4 months. The night breeze flew past everyone on the yacht as they strolled down the stream, moving their hips along to ‘Summer’ by Calvin Harris and trying to hear each other’s conversations over the loud music.

“Thanks, Tops,” (Y/N) smiled, feeling her body moving to the beat. She thought about the amount of drinks she had, but giggled when she had to recount again, and then frowned when she kept forgetting the number she ended on.

“What are you thinking?” Rafe whined, pulling her away from Topper who had his arms around another girl, trying to move on from his failed relationship with Sarah Cameron. He had told Rafe and (Y/N) that he have never felt better, but they both know the truth. He was completely wrecked after the breakup; when Topper found out about Sarah and a certain boy from the other side of the island, Rafe had to be there for him every single night until recently. He was too afraid of the things that Topper would do to himself.

“I can’t remember how many drinks I’ve had tonight,” she cried, tugging on his shirt as she placed her chin on his shoulder. Rafe laughed, patting her back before pulling her to face him.

“You had 8 shots. I had more.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, raising her brows. When she saw a smile slowly creeping onto his face, she groaned loudly.

“You always do this to me!” She grunted, but a tone of humor laced in her face. “God, I hate you.” She made a move to talk away, crossing her arms.

“No-” he shook his head, pulling her arm so that she will end right back into his arms again. He grinned when his tactic worked, “You don’t hate me. You love me too much.”

“Disgusting,” (Y/N) made a face, and stood on her toes to whisper into his ear. “Wanna do something?”

Rafe looked at her, and when he saw the sly smile etched onto her face, he kissed her fully on her lips, always admiring this side of her that she rarely shows to other people.

When he first found out about this opposite side of his girlfriend, Rafe couldn’t believe his eyes. He tried to convince himself that when she had asked to do coke with him for the first time that night, it was merely his imagination and not reality, but when she woke up next to him the next morning, the sun highlighting her hair and eyes, smiling shyly at him, he knew that it had, indeed, happened.

“You want to do coke?” he asked, forcing himself to keep his grin concealed. “Right now? In the middle of the party?”

(Y/N) hummed in response, and kissed his cheeks. “Please?”

Rafe didn’t answer her as he pulled her through the many dancing bodies to one of the back rooms in the yacht, trying to contain his excitement. The last time they had done this together ended up being one of the best nights of Rafe’s life, and he hoped to relive it again.

Rafe poured the intoxicating powder on the cold table, licking his pink lips as he separated them into four lines using his driver’s license. (Y/N) saw a glimpse of his handsome ID photo on the card, and tried to stop herself from kissing him. 

How could someone look so handsome in their driver’s license? It’s impossible.

(Y/N) licked the side of his face as he tried to balance the lines evenly, not able to contain her feelings anymore. She felt like having him for the rest of her life, and she can’t imagine spending her future with anyone else. 

“What was that for?” Rafe groaned, but he was smiling. (Y/N) wiped the already- drying wet mark on the side of his face with her sleeve, only to be stopped by Rafe’s fingers around her wrist.

“I didn’t say you could wipe it.”

(Y/N) giggled, kissing his cheeks as he returned back to his previous work. She wondered again on the never ending questions of why would Rafe choose her amongst the many girls who have tried to get his attention since forever, but her thought was disturbed by the sudden swift of Rafe’s lips against hers.

“Ladies first,” he whispered, handing her a rolled up hundred dollars bill. (Y/N) smiled, putting a light pressure on her left nostril using her pointer before dipping her head to inhale the substance.

She threw her head back, laughing when she could feel Rafe’s soft lips peppering wet kisses along her exposed neck. She closed her eyes against the warm feeling, her fingers running through his messy hair.

“Your turn, baby,” she giggled, stopping her boyfriend before they could provide a free show for everyone else. Rafe sighed, clearly unsatisfied, but he took the rolled up bill from her fingers and dipped his head.

Before he could inhale the white powder, he turned to look at her, a glinting mischief in his eyes. (Y/N) groaned, wanting to spend her hazy trip with her boyfriend instead of going ahead of him.

“What is it?”

“Lay on your back,” he said, not looking at her as he took out the extra mini ziplock bags. (Y/N) looked at him with a frustrated expression. “I swear to god, (Y/N), just fucking do it.”

(Y/N) sighed and laid her back against the sofa, trying to hold her skirt from lifting up and exposing her black thong she had bought beforehand. She widened her eyes when she felt Rafe’s cold rings grazing her skin, closing her eyes when she felt his hands slowly creeping towards her aching core.

“What are you doing?” She hissed, closing her legs quickly. “Rafe, we can’t do anything here.”

“Relax,” he whispered, pulling her legs apart again, and (Y/N) almost moaned from the sudden cold breeze nipping on her skin. She gripped on his wrist again, trying to remind and warn him about his next move at the same time.

Just by the glare that Rafe had given her, signaling that he wasn’t playing and he hadn’t got the time to joke around, she let go of his wrist, looking up to her boyfriend who was unlocking the mini bag.

She hissed when Rafe poured a perfect amount of cocaine on her lap, enough for him to get on by the night. She watched as he separated them into lines using his driver’s license again. She gulped, her heartbeat getting quicker.

“Stop moving so much,” Rafe grunted, focusing on perfecting the lines against her soft skin. After a few seconds of trying his best, he looked back to admire his work, licking his teeth.

“Oh my god, Rafe, you can’t be-”

“Shut up,” he said, taking the rolled up bill and dipping his head until he was on the same level as her head. She bit her lips, nervous. She threw her head back when Rafe inhaled a line, her heartbeat beating quicker than that time she tried to hide herself in Rafe’s closet from Rose. 

She could feel his fingers gripping her thighs, and she couldn’t deny the growing feeling inside her. Rafe chuckled, wiping his nose, and dipped his head back to the previous position.

“Rafe. . .” she whined, trying her best not to move around so much. The grip around her legs tightened, and she gritted her teeth as he placed wet kisses along her leg, ending directly before her desperate core.

“Oh my god,” she groaned, closing her eyes.

(Y/N) has experienced nothing of that sort, and the farthest thing they have done was fucking each other in Rafe’s hot tub that one drunken night. The last time she did coke with her boyfriend, no body parts were involved and it was only the two of them and her grandmother’s glass table.

Rafe chuckled, rubbing his nose as he resurfaced from his second last line, holding the rolled up bill between his fingers like a cigarette. “You like that, huh?”

“I’ve never wanted you to fuck me so bad before,” she said, groaning as she tried to keep her legs still for Rafe to inhale that one last line, but she knew he wouldn’t make her life that easy.

She watched as he kissed the inner of her thighs, going upwards, placing more kisses on her hips and again, directly halting before her core. Rafe could see the wet mark on her thongs, and could feel himself getting harder. 

“Please,” she begged, looking at him with her innocent eyes, her fingers wrapping around his wrist. “Please, Rafe, baby, please.”

“As you wish, princess.”

She went into another unexplainable feeling as he did his final line, and then  giving her more wet kisses along her thighs and lastly, that resulted her into jerking her body upwards towards his chest; he placed a strong kiss on her clothed core. 

Rafe laughed, watching her pressed herself against him, trying to find any kind of friction. “Relax, baby. I thought you wanted me to stop?”

“Fuck you,” she whispered, before climbing onto his lap and attacking him with kisses. 

“Okay-” he said in between kisses, “Fine-” more kisses, “Fuck me.”

(Y/N) groaned, feeling his hard member all pushed up against her as she kept on attacking him with kisses. This is exactly the problem; he would tease her and she would just not stop. 

“People are watching, baby,” he whispered, stopping her fingers from unzipping his jeans. They were both breathing really hard, and (Y/N) leaned closer to his ear.

“Let them.”

He groaned as she finally unzipped his pants, exposing his throbbing penis against the night air of North Carolina. He tried to pull his and (Y/N)’s body downwards by an inch to hide their ungodly behaviour behind the table, but was caught off guard when (Y/N) gripped his fingers, halting his movement.

“I said let them watch.”

Rafe wasn’t sure if it was the drugs that took over her or it was just another side of her that she was finally exposing to him, but he couldn’t deny the excitement coursing through his veins. This was every teenage boy’s wet dreams, and Rafe couldn’t believe the fact that he was finally experiencing it.

Before he could prepare himself, he felt her sink into him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her forehead against his as she panted to reach her end. Rafe held her waist, not putting any pressure and letting her take control completely. He watched as she bit her lips, placing quick kisses against his neck.

“I love you, oh my god,” she said as she pushed herself down onto him, closing her eyes to concentrate on the familiar feeling growing in her stomach. “My perfect boy.”

“I’m close,” he shuddered, this time thrusting his hips against her to quicken the pace, feeling his end reaching. He didn’t care about the crowd that was starting to form near them; he was happy and content with the girl who was a moaning mess on top of him.

“Fuck-” she screamed as he released himself into her, falling against his chest to catch her breath. Rafe placed a lazy kiss against the top of her head as she grunted, too tired to even remove herself. 

“I wanna do coke with you every single night,” she whispered involuntarily as Rafe pulled her up, finally finding the strength to do so. He fixed her dress for her as she rested her head against the sofa, feeling so close to doze off for the night. Rafe smiled, tucking a strand of her hair before buttoning his jeans back again. He kissed her cheeks as she sighed, intertwining their fingers. 

“I’ll always love you, okay?” he said, but she was too tired to say anything back. She whispered something back, and Rafe laughed in return, and the night continued with her head against his chest as they snuggled up close on the sunbathing area. When the clock struck 12, they watched the fireworks decorating the night sky, and Rafe swore he had never seen anything more beautiful than (Y/N) under that glowing sky that particular night.

“Happy birthday, my love,” Rafe whispered, before placing a longing kiss on her lips.

(Y/N) woke up with a start.

She heard noises coming from her window, and she groaned before making her way towards the light. Her feet tapped lightly against her carpeted floor, feeling the cold temperature coming from outside.

Great. Just the person she wanted to see.

“Let me in, baby, please,” Rafe said against her window, fogging her glass. “Please? Let me explain myself.”

(Y/N) held her middle finger up to him before returning to her bed, watching the panicking boy from the corners of her eyes.

How could he climb up to her room after all the things he did to her?

“Oh my god-” she heard him speak, “It’s cold out here. Please? Let me in.” 

(Y/N) tried to block out his voice as she placed her pillows against her ears, but when she kept hearing his pleads, she couldn’t shake the bad feeling in her heart. She stood up from her bed, watching Rafe struggling to hold on to a branch, and opened the window, all while silently cursing to herself.

Rafe quickly shut the windows and sighed as he got used to the warm atmosphere, his eyes following the girl as she returned back towards her bed. Rafe stayed shut, following her actions, and sat beside her limp body.

“I’m-”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” she cut him off, and Rafe watched as she shifted to get comfortable. She wasn’t looking at him, and Rafe felt a pang of pain across his heart.

“Please, baby, you deserve an explanation.”

(Y/N) stayed quiet, and Rafe took the silence as an agreement. He ran his fingers through his hair a few times, trying to find his voice; because this is exactly the problem -

He didn’t know how much more (Y/N) had heard from his ex’s mouth, but based on the quick summary that she had given him through the phone call an hour ago, everything that she told him was true.

Because he was stupid. He was selfish, and he didn’t believe in the idea of falling in love with some and making great memories with them. Life simply wasn’t that way to him - 

All he cared about was sex and drugs, and his ex filled that exact cravings in him. He grew attached, but (Y/N) had taught him love. She taught him all the things that he didn’t know existed in him before.

“It’s true,” was all he said.

He grimaced as (Y/N) let out a shrill laugh, and stayed shut right after. He felt the need to caress her but decided against it, knowing that she will probably push him off.

“And I’m sorry. I was stupid, okay? I didn’t mean any of that. God, I wish I can turn back time and did everything differently because god, I was so fucking stupid and I hate seeing you cry because of me.”

Rafe could feel his own tears crashing down. The last time he had cried this hard was when Ward yelled at him, saying how useless he is and that he will never be proud of him, but (Y/N) was there for him during that time to calm him down. 

Now he’s alone.

“God, (Y/N), you give me love and you’ve taught me how to love and- and, I can’t let you go now, oh my god, I can’t-” he took a deep breath, “Not when I love you too much.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered, and Rafe felt like killing himself at the sound of her voice in pain. “Why didn’t you fucking tell me?” She repeated, louder this time.

“I was scared,” he whispered back. “I wish I can take your pain away.”

“Rafe-” she sat up, her eyes puffy and red from the never ending tears since she fled the party. She looked at the boy she loves, and felt a sudden wave of emotion for the thing she was about to say.

“Can we stop seeing each other for a while? Can we take a break?”

“What?” Rafe shook his head, his fingers trembling. “No. No. You are not hearing yourself. No.”

“Rafe, please,” she cried, gripping onto her bedsheet. “Give me time to think. I can’t think about all this, just let me breathe!”

“You can’t let me go, (Y/N),” he whispered, trying to connect their fingers like always. When he saw her slipping her hand into her covers, he let out a breath.

“It’s too cold for you to go home. You can sleep in here, with me.”

“Don’t do this to me,” he said again, getting closer. When she flinched, he used all of his energy not to let out a yell, knowing that it would cause her to leave him for good.

“Just give me time. To think. Okay?”

“I love you,” he whispered, “I’ll wait. However long it’s going to take, I’ll wait.”

She didn’t return his affection and Rafe waited a few more seconds for her to mutter the words back. He took a deep breath before standing up, limping towards her window again.

“Rafe, you can stay here. Don’t make this any harder for me.”

But he left anyway, and (Y/N) was frozen in her position as she stared at his previous space on her bed, his scent slowly evaporating into the air. She couldn’t believe it; she lost him. She lost every inch of him, the only boy she truly loves.

She cried again against her pillows, missing her boy.

#Part 3

-

add yourself to the taglist!

[scuttling]

Crush

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 3,349 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Crushes, Fluff and smut, Rough sex, Unprotected sex, Manhandling Summary: Hotch has had a crush on the new member of his team for as long as he can remember. He keeps his distance, but he knows everything about her—her favorite snacks, how she takes her coffee. They share a room on a case, and at first, he's nervous, but being around her is comfortable, and he longs for more. Is it possible she feels the same way about him? *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below!

Aaron has a crush on the newest member of his team. There’s no use denying it, or trying to compartmentalize it and pretend it doesn’t exist; it’s inappropriate, irresponsible, and just plain stupid, but he can’t talk himself out of it no matter how hard he tries. He is completely infatuated with her, whether he likes it or not.

And he does like it, sometimes. Sometimes, she will catch his eye on the jet, or in the office, shoot him a soft smile, and his heart beats fast, his chest feels warm. He thinks, I might never get to be with her, but she does think of me, and that’s something, at least.

Sometimes, he hates it, especially times like these, when they’re all on the jet and Morgan is using every ounce of his charm and charisma, the easy smile he doesn’t think twice about flashing, to try to get her to go out on a date with him. She hasn’t accepted the offer yet, and he’s been trying for about five months, almost the entirety of her career at the BAU, but that doesn’t make Aaron feel any better.

He knows Morgan very well. He’ll convince her eventually, and even if it doesn’t go anywhere, he’ll think about the two of them together all the time and never be able to stop. It will take his (mostly) innocent crush to a darker place, a place of anger and jealousy he’s not proud of, but has no control over.

“I would take you on the most incredible date of your life, mama. Dinner, dancing, a moonlit stroll; we go out for a couple of drinks, maybe I'll try to steal a kiss...”

“Maybe I’ll punch you in the face...” she says with a smirk, but he knows flirting when he hears it, and her threat carries no weight. Morgan shrugs, grins.

“Maybe, but I can take a punch. You need a man, and I am fully prepared to be that man; one little love tap won’t stop me.” She raises her eyebrows, looks over at him with narrowed eyes.

“Okay, first thing’s first: I don't do love taps, I do right hooks, so don't tempt me. Second, I don’t need a man, I want a man, and not just any man will do. When I want something, I want something specific. If I want dessert—”

Cherry cheesecake, Aaron thinks. He’s seen her order it three times, is slightly obsessed with the sound she makes when she takes the first bite.

“—I want cherry cheesecake or nothing. Not chocolate, not strawberry. If I want a glass of wine—”

Pinot Grigio if she wants white, Merlot if she wants red—she almost never wants red.

“—I want Pinot Grigio or nothing. If I have to have red, I’ll order Merlot, but I won’t be happy about it. When we’re on a case and I can’t sleep, and I come out to stare at the vending machine for a midnight snack—”

She either gets peanut butter crackers, or barbeque chips. That’s an easy one. Morgan has to know that.

“—I’ll get barbeque chips, or peanut butter crackers, or nothing. I am uncompromising when it comes to the things I want. So, Derek Morgan,” she says with a smirk, and a bit of attitude; it only makes Morgan smile brighter, and Aaron refrains from rolling his eyes, “when I want a man, I want a specific type of man, and I won’t be worn down no matter how many times you ask me out.”

“And what specific type of man do you want?” he asks, crossing his arms. Everyone is paying attention to their conversation, even Aaron, though he tries to pretend he isn’t.

“Well for starters, a man. You’re acting like a guy right now, and I’m not interested in guys.” JJ says ooh, burn, and everyone laughs. “I want a man who knows who he is, even if who he is isn’t pleasing to everyone. I want a man who isn’t afraid to feel vulnerable, who can be tender, who doesn’t run from a situation just because it makes him emotional. I want a man who pays attention to me when it counts, not just when he wants something. I want a man who will respect my boundaries,” she says, a little pointed, “who will help me grow but not try to change me. Most importantly, I want a man who can handle me, and I don’t think you can handle me.”

Aaron blinks hard at that. He’s pretty certain he could handle her, absolutely wants to.

“Alright, I can’t argue with a woman who knows what she wants, and it’s obvious you know what you want,” Morgan says, palms up in surrender. “Let me know when you find the lucky guy—man—so I can warn him about you.”

“Baby, I am the warning,” she says with a wink, and Aaron shifts in his seat.

It’s going to be a long flight to California. When they get to the hotel, JJ hands out the room assignments as usual, and he’s very surprised when she hands her a key out of the envelope marked 313, and then does the same for him. JJ shrugs.

“They didn’t have any singles, I guess. We’re all doubled up.” The other woman adjusts her bag on her shoulder, looks up at him.

“Is that a problem? I promise I won’t disturb you,” she says with a smile, and he shakes his head and, hopefully, his nervousness.

“No, of course it’s not a problem. Thanks, JJ. Looks like we’re this way,” he says, guiding her down the hall.

Their room is a little cramped, but clean, and he takes the bed closest to the door, sets his bag on it. She walks past him, throws her bag on the other bed and puts her hands on her hips, stares down at the ground. It takes him a moment to understand why.

“We could probably move your nightstand against the wall, share the one in the middle.” She looks up, confused, and he rubs the back of his neck. “You need room to lay down your yoga blanket, right? I know you’ve mentioned before that it helps put you to sleep when we’re traveling.” A brilliant smile curves across her face.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I was trying to figure out. Thanks.” He moves to help her, but she lifts the table easily, tucks it in the corner between the desk and the lamp. She rolls out her blanket, pulls an outfit out of her bag. “I’m just going to get changed, and then the bathroom is all yours; I’ll be out of your hair.”

“It’s no trouble,” he says, and he means it; she just nods and smiles again, ducks into the bathroom to change her clothes.

Her outfit is… it’s tight, for lack of a better description, a strappy sports bra and patterned leggings; she does a lot of bending, and stretching, and balancing, her body strong and sleek. He tries to go about his business, but he can’t stop looking.

Once he’s finally able to convince himself to look away, lest she get suspicious of his inactivity, he changes his clothes, takes off his watch and sets it beside his gun, badge, and phone on his side of the nightstand. He pulls out his tablet to get caught up on the news, and it’s actually kind of comforting, the soft hum of her breathing the only sound in the otherwise quiet room.

He doesn’t realize she’s finished until she walks around between the beds, grabs her badge off the nightstand and slides her credit card out from behind her photo ID. “Heading to the vending machine; need anything?” she asks, and he shakes his head—he already brushed his teeth—earning one of her soft smiles.

She grabs her key, slips out the door, and returns a few minutes later with a pack of peanut butter crackers and a bag of peanut M&Ms—his guilty pleasure. She tosses them onto the bed beside him, and her lips twitch, and she strolls into the bathroom and turns on the shower.

He eats his M&Ms and does not imagine what she looks like wet.

Ultimately, he’s happy she was so thoughtful to bring him a snack, but that does mean he needs to brush his teeth again. The bathroom door is open, steam wafting out, so he figures it’s safe to enter while she finishes getting ready for bed. She’s standing at one of the double sinks, wrapped up in a fluffy white towel, brushing her teeth, and he steps up beside her and prepares to do the same.

It’s pleasant, companionable, the familiar sounds of scrape-scrub-spit, and then she washes her face with some foamy, herbal scented concoction he couldn’t begin to identify. He washes his with soap and a little hot water, and she cringes; he frowns.

“What is it?” he asks, toweling off. She hesitates a moment, then flicks open a blue bottle, squeezes a bit of cream into her hands, and lifts them toward his face, pausing with a question in her eyes. He swallows, but leans in closer, and she rubs it over his cheeks, his chin, his forehead.

“Soap like that isn’t good for your skin, not even for guys, and I figured you don’t moisturize. This stuff is unisex, and it will keep you looking young and fresh and handsome; you can have this one, I’ve got more.” She pulls back, washes her hands, and he’s left kind of dazed, longs for the feel of her hands on his face again. That was an unexpected, but very welcome, thing. The next morning, he’s up early, so he showers and gets dressed and then heads down to the lobby for some coffee and a paper. He grabs two cups, stacks them in his hand when he goes to unlock the door to their room; she is awake when he returns, freshly dressed, hair pulled back, and she takes the coffees from his hand before he spills them everywhere.

“Thanks. The one on the left is for you; two sugars,” he says offhand, grabbing his cup and setting it down on the nightstand, flipping open the paper. He sits down on the edge of the bed closest to the nightstand, doesn’t notice her smile, but she settles on her bed across from him, sips her coffee, and reaches up to pull the sports section out from between his fingers. He maybe cracks a smile of his own. That evening, they get back to the room a little cranky, another late night full of dead end leads, and she skips yoga and heads straight for the shower. The blissfully hot water feels good against her skin, and she thinks about touching herself, but it wouldn’t be appropriate, not with Hotch just outside the door.

The thought only makes her hotter, but still, she refrains.

When she’s wrapped up in her towel, she pushes open the door like the night before, starts brushing her teeth, and it’s not long before Hotch fills the space beside her, copying her actions. She washes her face, and he washes his with soap again—so, so wrong—but at least he uses the moisturizer she gave him afterward. Baby steps.

He leaves the room, and she follows him out to grab her pajamas, sees a bottle of water and a bag of barbeque chips laying on her bed.

Enough is enough, she thinks. She wasn’t sure, until they shared this room, but now she’s 100% certain that Hotch has a thing for her, and she’s harboring her own thing, which is stupid. If she wants him (she really, really does) and he wants her, why aren’t they naked already?

Thankfully, that’s easily remedied. She drops her towel, and Hotch looks up from his tablet, drops his jaw.

“I’ve been thinking about last night; how shy you were about our sharing a room. It made me wonder if you’re shy about other things, too.” She walks around her bed, stands between them, presses her fingers to his tablet to push it down, out of his hands. “Are you shy, Hotch?”

“No,” he says roughly, making no effort to conceal the way his eyes sweep over her naked body. She’d blush, but she’s not the blushing type.

“No?” She climbs up, settles in his lap—he’s tenting his boxers already and it makes her feel awesome—and his hands fall to her thighs, spread around him, squeezing roughly. She moans, rolls her hips slowly. “Do you think you can handle me, Hotch? I’m kind of a lot.”

He answers with his hands, grabs her face and pulls her down for a long, dirty, messy kiss. Her chest is heaving by the end of it, and she’s definitely leaving a wet patch on his underwear, she’s so fucking horny. He tips her back, so she’s laying against the sheets, tugs off his shirt, and drapes himself on top of her, tilts her head to the side so he can get his mouth on her neck.

“Oh my god, mmm,” she sighs as he sucks on her throat, grinding his clothed dick against her, and she moves her hands down to sweep them over his body, but he grabs them, pins them up by her head instead. “Fuck, Hotch.” It leaves her mouth as a trembling gasp, and he looks up at her, his eyes dark and hard; he growls out a command for her to stay—she’s sure as shit not going for a damn stroll any time soon—and leans up, pushes his boxers down, and flips her body over.

She’s laying a little sideways, kind of lined up with the bottom corner of the bed—it always makes her feel like a complete whore to fuck anywhere but right up against the pillows, so this alone is enough to get her super hot. He gets both broad palms on her ass, squeezes her hard enough to hurt (and damn if that doesn’t make her pussy drip) and then slowly slides his fingers over her slit, making her toss her head back and groan.

“Oh, yeah. So, so good,” she sighs as he rubs her, spreads her wetness between her lips, over her clit and her mound so she’s sticky and soaked and begging for more, and then he plants his hands on either side of her and thrusts in so hard she has to dig her fingers into the sheets or she’ll go skidding off the bed. “Holy fuck,” she gasps, clutching for dear life as he slams inside roughly and deeply, but so slow it’s almost torture.

“So how am I handling you?” he asks, low into her ear, leaning in to press his chest heavily against her back, rolling his hips and grinding where he’s seated deep. He pulls out almost all of the way and then slams back in so quickly her whole body stutters forward, and her head’s empty, no thoughts but my boss is fucking me and my boss is fucking me good.

She just pants in reply, and he repeats that motion over and over, fast, nearly withdrawing just to fill her until his balls slap against her; she feels filthy, and amazing, and a little pissed it took them this long to do this, and she comes screaming his name, yanking so hard at the bedding that she pulls the fitted sheet right off the mattress.

He keeps pumping inside her, and she clenches around him, moans. He grunts, leans in to nibble her ear. “That’s my girl. Can you handle me?”

“My god, yeah.” She wants to, at least; she’s never been fucked this good in her life, so she’s honestly not sure how much she can handle. It’s always the quiet ones, she really should have known.

“Trust me on this,” he whispers, and she does because she does; he puts his hands on her arms, pries them off of the bed and moves her forward, guides her hands to the floor to support her so she’s half off the bed, her ass up. She’s strong, and he knows she’s strong, but she’s not sure she’s strong enough for this because he just fucking destroyed her and her legs are still shaking. “Trust me,” he coos again, and he shifts up, gets one foot on the ground, holds tightly to her hips, and pounds into her fast and hard, short thrusts that have her moaning and groaning and coming a second time before he even comes once.

He does come, though, just after, and she’s glad she’s got an IUD because if not she’d be leaving here fucking pregnant, no doubt about that.

“Hotch,” she gasps, daring to reach an arm back to touch him, and he pulls her up, lays her back, and kisses her, smoothing his hands all over her body. “Jesus. That was incredible.” She cards her fingers through his hair—he’s breathing heavy too, looks as dopey and pleased as she feels, which makes her smile. “I’ve kind of had a crush on you for the last few months. Thought you didn’t notice me much,” she says softly, and he laughs, incredulous.

“Didn’t notice you? All I do is look at you,” he murmurs, brushing his fingers over her cheek. She grins.

“Yeah, no, I got that. I figured that out; sorry it took me so long.” He leans in for a kiss, softer and slower, and she gets a little horny again, isn’t sure how that’s possible. “Why’d you stay away so much, if you liked me?” She’d done what she could to get his attention, smiling at him, brushing up against him when she could make it look innocent enough, but he’s always been the picture of propriety, maybe even a little distant.

“Morgan,” he says, making a face like he realizes how silly that was. “He’s been trying to ask you out and I figured you’d say yes eventually; he’s confident in ways I’m not. He’s a lot of things I’m not.”

“Yeah, that’s true, and I like you both for the ways you’re different, but his pursuing me has always been a game. A joke. He’s like a brother to me and he knows it. All in fun,” she says, and then he looks like he feels really silly. She leans up for a kiss. “All's well that ends well though, right?”

“Has this ended well?” he asks, a question in his eyes, and she runs her hands over his arms, his sides.

“If it’s up to me, I’d say this doesn’t have to end at all.” He puts a hand in her hair, kisses her deeply, passionately, and brings a few fingers to rub against her clit. She inhales sharply, licks her lips, and sinks back against the bed. “Oh my god, Hotch.”

“That’s right, baby. I’m your man,” he breathes into her ear, and she groans. Yes, he fucking is. The next morning, she goes to the lobby to pour their coffee, grab a paper to share. She passes Morgan—not a morning person—who grumbles a greeting and then does a double take.

“Whatcha got on your neck there, sweetheart?” he asks, and she grins privately, then schools her expression and turns to face him.

“What? Oh, that,” she says, poking at the purple hickey from the night before. “I’ll cover it with makeup later; needed my coffee first.” He blinks a couple times like he's missing something, frowns.

“Did you go out last night after we got here?”

“Nope, jumped in the shower and went straight to bed,” she replies, which is actually the truth. It just wasn’t her bed. She didn’t say anything about sleeping.

“Then who…?” It’s then that Hotch brushes by them, reaches out a hand for his cup.

“One sugar, one cream,” she says as she passes it over, and they both smile. Morgan knocks his cup over and spills coffee all over the floor.

Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal

[its-deputy-caleb]

hi!! uh, if you don't mind,, id like to request the four lords reactions to their s/o bringing home a lycan and bein like,, "new doggy"

because who doesn't like surprise pets, am I right?

Hiii, okay so this is very rushed and short so i apologise but rn writing is going to be slower for a while :(( i hope this is okay regardless! everyone enjoy

Alcina Dimitrescu

“What is that awful smell? It smells like something died in here!”

Alcina turns her attention to see you standing in the dining hall with a dripping wet lycan puppy in you arms.

You found the poor thing alone in the rain outside of the lycan den, he’s clearly the runt of the pack and your heart melted when you saw him. Obviously you couldn’t help but take it with you.

You stand before the Lady Dimitrescu with a pleading look in your eyes. The lycan pup was wiggling in your grip, his tail getting water all over the carpet as it moves with excitement.

Alcina opened her mouth to protest but the minute her daughters walked into the room the argument was already lost. Judging by their reactions, it would seem the little lycan is staying.

At first she hated the lycan running around her castle, constantly comparing him to that of her brother but he surprisingly still had a lot of his human intelligence and learnt very quickly not to scratch the ornate wooden doors or rip the curtains or chew the bottom of Alcina’s dress. Soon the pup became a household favourite.

Alcina will deny she likes the puppy till the day she dies but you’ve seen her enough times curled up on the couch with him or cuddling him in your bedroom to know that’s not true.

Donna Beneveinto

Donna is sitting peacefully on the couch, a cup of tea brewing in the pot while she works on stitching in some embroidery onto a new dress she’s working on when a brown ball of fur comes barrelling through the door.

Angie and yourself come after it, trying to chase the thing she now recognises as a lycan puppy. Eventually Angie manages to heave him into the air for enough time while you pick it up and hug him close.

“DONNA LOOK WHAT WE FOUND!! A PUPPY! OH WE HAVE TO KEEP HIM!”

Donna stares at the puppy in your arms, he wriggles constantly with his tongue hanging out, panting wildly. He looks around without a care in the world, like a child that doesn’t understand what everyone is saying.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea… what about my porcelain dolls.”

You and Angie pull the biggest pout you can muster and say your cheesiest “please” that’s king drawn out and whiny.

“We’ll train him Dons, I promise that nothing will be broken.”

The little lycan does learn quickly that the dolls are not to be touched and instead finds pleasure in chasing around the imaginary enemies in Donna’s garden.

All three of you love the puppy and love having another chaotic member of the household.

It always brings a smile to your face and Donna’s to see Angie on his back with a stick raised into the air like a sword saying,

“Onwards noble steed!”

Salvatore Moreau

Poor Salvatore is terrified of the lycan puppy when he sees you bring it to him. He instantly runs to the other end of the room to hide behind the tv.

“It’s alright Sal it won’t bite, see?”

You slowly crouch down beside him and take his hand gently in your own, bring your joined hands to the soft fur.

You sit together for the better part of an hour just slowly petting the little pup, allowing Sal time to get comfortable.

Eventually he grows to love the puppy, finding it cute when he’d return from adventures with sticks to gift him.

You love going on walks around the reservoir but the pup’s curiosity meant he has jumped into the water too many times to count.

Sal grows very attached to the pup and smothers him with hugs and kisses constantly. He’s definitely spoiled without a doubt.

He’s also very protective and researches all about how to care for a puppy and makes sure he gets all the essentials.

The lycan finds bubbles of slime around the mines and always tries to burst them with his canines, thank god it’s not toxic and just sticky because he comes running through the door with green all over his mouth as he licks at both your faces.

Karl Heisenberg

“No, we’re not keeping that pup. I already have too much on with the factory and Miranda, I do not need another distraction.”

You knew Karl could be stubborn but you could be too and there was no way you were gonna back down from keeping this Lycan puppy.

“Aw common look at him! He’s so cute and fluffy, how could you say no to that face!”

You scratch at its belly, watching the way tail picks up and wags at your affection. You hold the little lycan out to Karl who looks like he’s about to refuse until he lets out the softest little howl and he won him over in an instant

Karl explained to you that the pup must have been the runt or abandoned since he was much smaller and fragile compared to the ones he’s raised before. It would make sense since you rescued him on the outskirts of the village, completely abandoned and alone.

It only made the two of you love the little one even more and while Karl would never admit it, he’s a soft spot for him.

You’ve walked into Karl’s workshop to see him completely distracted by him, playing fetch with a spanner and teaching him tricks.

The one that really melted your heart was seeing Karl curled up on the bed in a pile of blankets, the little lycan asleep on his chest and the two of them snoring quietly.

[skzsauce01]

For You

Anniversary Request Special

Description: You and Minho are a little more than just an heiress and her bodyguard, but you know your parents would never approve of a relationship like this unless...

Warning: anxiety, injury

Word Count: 2.1k

Pairing: fem!reader x bodyguard!Minho

He is buttoning up his shirt after a warm shower when his phone buzzes. He smirks at your caller ID on the screen before picking it up. “What, miss me alr—”

“Hi. Sorry to bother you.”

Minho drops his smile and grips his phone tighter at the tone of your voice. Panic bubbles in his chest. “Is something wrong?”

“No, it’s not like that. I’m just… out right now, and it got dark a little quicker than I thought. I know you’re off the clock on Sundays, but—”

“It’s okay. I'm coming to get you. Where are you?”

“I’m near the 7-11 near your house. The one with the blue umbrellas in front.”

“Okay. Go inside for now. I’m coming.”

“Alright. Thank you, Minho. And sorry.”

“Don’t be; it’s my job. Call again if something happens before I get there.”

“Okay.”

“Alright, I’ll be there shortly.”

Minho doesn’t even bother drying his hair and dashes out the door. He runs and runs, unease crawling up his skin, but when he sees you through the window of the convenience store, his stomach completely drops. There you stand with your shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around yourself, and knees bowed in, a stark contrast to the proud heiress he is used to seeing. 

The worker who is leaning over the counter seems to be saying something as Minho bursts in. “If you aren’t buyin’, pay for your loitering with cha number, sugar.”

Minho slaps a bill on the counter and takes a bag of chocolates. “There. She’s a customer,” he hisses. Turning to you who looks shocked by his sudden appearance, he asks, “Are you okay?”

You nod dumbly. 

“Okay. Let’s get out of here.” He puts a hand on the small of your back and guides you to the door, using himself to shield you from the eyes of the worker.

He thought you’d relax a little after getting away from the creep, but your posture remains closed off. He wants to ask why but does not know if you’re ready for that yet. Instead, you break the silence first.

“Thank you for coming, and sorry for ruining your Sunday.”

“Y/N, you know I’m always ready to be by your side.” 

He looks for clues. You have on a deep blue dress, minimal jewelry, and light makeup. In other words, effortlessly enchanting, but that’s not important; you went to something fancy but not overly formal. A first date? Minho’s heart starts racing at the thought. He needs to know. “What were you doing out here by yourself?”

You bite your lip. Instead of answering, you tug on the cuff of his shirt gingerly with the tips of your fingers. “I-is it alright if I don’t talk about it?”

His chest breaks at how fragile your voice is. He stops in his tracks and looks at you.

“I-is it not?” you squeak.

“Of course it is.”

“Then why are you—”

“You look like you need this.”

He steps up to you under the streetlight and wraps you into a hug, gently stroking your back.

“Minho!” you gasp. “What if someone sees?”

You’re an heiress. Your choices of men are Chan from JY Group, Changbin from Seo Enterprise, or even Jisung from Han Motors. Lee Minho the bodyguard is definitely not on that list even if your heart is taking flight from this small gesture of endearment.

“Why does that matter?” he hushes you.

“If Father finds out, you’d lose your job.”

“I’d rather that than not be able to be here for you when you need it,” he says plainly and holds you tighter when you try to push him away.

Gradually, he feels you give up and give in to his embrace. Finally, he feels you begin to shake as tears escape your eyes.

“It was so scary,” you whimper. “I was so scared.”

Your words are like hammers battering his chest,making it impossible to breathe. He holds you tighter and speaks quietly, letting the vibration of his voice calm you.

“It’s okay. You’re okay now. I’m right here. Nothing can hurt you.”

You arrive at the gates of your house, an empty bag of convenience store chocolates between your fingers.

“Minho?”

“Yes?”

“Father can’t know what happened. Are my eyes swollen?”

He turns you by the shoulder so he is directly looking into them. “Not at all. They’re—”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees your father approaching, and cuts his sentence short. “Good evening, Mister L/N,” he greets.

“Ah, Minho. What are you doing here on a Sunday?”

“I found Miss Y/N around my neighborhood and thought it best to escort her home.”

“You found her around your neighborhood?” 

“Yes, I was just taking an evening stroll.”

“Evening stroll?” he echoes yet again. The old man looks at the younger one’s wet, unbrushed hair.

Minho can’t do a thing but cough nervously, knowing how weak his lie is.

Thankfully, your father does not comment further. He looks between the two of you and smiles to himself. “Alright. Since you’re here, you should escort her all the way to the house.”

“Yes, sir,” Minho bows. When he straightens up again, he grins at you. “Shall we go?”

You nod with a smile of your own. “Thank you, Minho. Really.”

“Like I said, I’m always here for you.”

He cheekily takes your hand in his and hides it behind his back in case your father turns around.

“Oh, and Y/N?” he whispers.

“Hm?” 

He swipes an eyelash that fell with your tears from your cheek. “They’re not swollen; they’re beautiful.”

Your father coughs loudly in front of you.

The following week, you accompany your parents to a showing of the latest models of Han Motors. Of course, this means Minho is to lurk around in the shadows and follow you all night. At least, that’s what he’s supposed to do instead of being dragged out to the main floor by you to discuss which refreshment tastes the best.

“You know, if you wanted to spend time with me, you could have just said so,” Minho teasingly whispers into your ear.

“Shush and try this.” You roll your eyes and stuff a truffle-topped cracker between his lips. 

Minho chews for a moment before commenting, “Not great. Better than the cherry thing earlier, but the truffles your uncle gave you last time was better.”

You take one and mull over it yourself. “You’re right. This one’s too sweet.”

“Like someone I know,” he sighs off-handedly.

You snort. “I can’t tell if you’re talking about me or yourself.”

He raises a brow. “Oh, so you think I’m worthy of being called ‘sweet?’”

“Good gracious,” you roll your eyes.

The two of you have tried less and less to suppress your flirting. Thankfully, most of your comments are made in indecipherable whispers or behind closed doors, so most people haven’t noticed, but those who did definitely have a thing or two to say about it.

“Y/N!” Your mother’s voice breaks your conversation. 

You walk quickly past displays of shiny luxury cars to where she is. “Yes, Mother?”

She looks past you at Minho. “This does not involve you.”

Without missing a beat, he bows. Before he leaves though, you flash him a hand signal. Stay nearby. 

“You should meet the Hans’ son tonight,” your mother tells you after Minho is gone from her sight.

“Mother, I’ve already met him at my birthday party last year.”

“Yes, but this time, meet him as a man like you’re supposed to, you understand?”

“Mother, Jisung already has his eyes on—”

“Madam Han!” your mother calls before you can even finish your sentence. You close your eyes to roll them and let your shoulders slouch, knowing exactly what is going to happen.

The said woman walks over, her son in tow to help his mother introduce new cars. “Madam L/N! It is good to see you.”

First the sweet talk.

“Your face is smaller every time I see it. How do you do it?”

“Oh, you flatter me!”

Then an indirect indication of true intentions.

“It’s the truth! You simply must tell me your secrets. In the meantime, let’s have our children play amongst themselves.”

Madam Han quickly understands her implication. “Of course! They must be bored being around us old ladies. Jisung dear, take care of Miss Y/N, won’t you?”

“Yes, Mother,” he promises obediently.

You watch as the two women walk away in a fit of faux compliments. Despite leaving the two of you alone, you know they have hawk eyes on you to make sure you do as they intend.

“So,” you decide to play along, “we, uh, meet again, Jisung.”

“Yep.” He clasps his hands in front of him and looks around nervously. Not much of a conversationalist, you note.

“Tell me about this car.” You motion towards a blue SUV nearby.

“Ah, yes!” You can see the boy light up from having something he can actually talk about. “This is the Model YG. It is a family car, but it certainly does not leave out the power and class of a…”

You soon tune him out. You both know you have no interest in cars anyway, and he’s just glad to have something to fill the silence with. Your eyes begin to wander, and you catch sight of something darting around. You first pass it off as your imagination, but when you see it again, alarms go off in your head.

You grab the arm next to you. “Minho.”

Jisung looks at you inquisitively. “I’m Jisung.”

“Sorry,” you apologize. “I need to find my bodyguard. I think there’s something—”

Just then, a low whistle cuts through the air. You look up and see the giant chandelier above you beginning to tilt.

“Run!”

Unfortunately, you are right at the center of the whole structure. You bolt away right behind Jisung, but there is just no way your stupid heels can keep up with his powerful strides. There isn’t much time. You aren’t going to make it. You can hear the lower hanging parts of the light structure crashing and shattering when someone tackles you to the floor, shielding you with his own body.

“Minho!”

He lets out a hallowed gasp as a metal rod strikes him in the back. He struggles to regain his breath but keeps his eyes trained on you.

“I’m okay. I’m okay,” you repeat, knowing that’s what he wants to hear most. 

It’s your turn to worry about him now as he continues struggling to breathe. You help him sit upright, trying to avoid touching the million shards of glass impaling his skin. 

“Miss L/N!” You turn and see Jisung calling you from the perimeter of the mess. Thankfully, he does not look too scathed. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m—”

“Get away from my daughter!”

Amidst the panic and army of security running about, everyone looks up at your mother fuming on the second floor. It is only then you realize how intimate your position with Minho is. You’re seated between his legs, turned towards him, and he has his arms around you, using your body to press on his spazzing diaphragm.

A new voice directs everyone’s attention. “Are you crazy?” It is your father this time, pulling his wife away from the railings. “He just saved her! What are you doing?”

“Jisung was supposed to save her!”

“Jisung saved himself! Can’t you see? Minho’s the one who’s willing to risk himself for our daughter. What more do you have against that?”

You blush under the eyes your parents’ conversation has put on you, but Minho does not back down. He keeps you covered as you shrink in embarrassment. 

“Jisung just needs more time with her!” your mother continues. “He’ll learn to love her!”

“Like you ever learned to love me? How many years have we been married? How many years have we tried to learn to love? Do you really wish the same thing for our daughter?”

A wave of gasps ripple through the building. Security has caught the criminals who sabotaged the convention, but no one cares. You can feel your stock prices dropping. You and your family are going to be on the front cover of every gossip magazine tomorrow. You struggle to find something— anything— to distract the crowd from what was just said. You need something big— something even bigger than your father’s confession.

In the midst of your dilemma, it is Minho who speaks first. “Let’s date.”

Another gasp echoes across the crowd. At least that did the trick.

“What are you doing?” you whisper-scream at him.

“What?” he says not-so-quietly. “Your father’s giving me permission. We might as well make it official. I promise to protect you and cherish you for the rest of our lives. What do you say, Y/N?”

Jisung is the first to start chanting, “Say yes! Say yes!” and is soon joined by the rest of the party-goers. Your mother nearly faints and your father beams proudly.

“Okay,” you finally agree.

“Then kiss me,” he prompts, and you do. 

[mehbzz]

More Degrees of Lewdity. Bailey/F!reader 18+ a short PWP. A little bath time voyeurism. vaginal fingering, dubcon, threats of violence, power imbalance, possessive behaviour.

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

You scream as your gaze lands on Bailey, standing in the bathroom doorway. His stare is fixated on you, a smirk turning up the corner of his mouth as you pointlessly try to cover yourself up. There are no bubbles in your bath, no money for luxury outside of some good old fashioned soap, so even if he's only been standing there for a few seconds, he's had a good view.

He's swaying slightly as he stands there staring and you think he might be drunk.

"I'm nearly finished." You're not sure what else to say. Continuing to wash yourself or standing up to get out seems too much like you’re inviting him closer. He's never shown much interest in you outside of your ability to make him money but the way he's staring at you makes you very uncomfortable.

You cross your arms over your chest and hope he decides to wander away as you watch him back warily.

"You really think Avery is going to take you away from here?" He sounds not quite angry but hurt almost, and he’s definitely drunk. "That the little orphan with the daddy issues is going to be rescued?"

You shake your head but inside you’re panicking. How could he possibly know that? Avery loved to talk about taking you away, taking you to see the world and showing you off, and while it was a wonderful fantasy, you didn't really believe him. You wanted to, humoured him when he brought it up, even hoped more than anything that he would, but you weren't stupid.

"Another year and you'll be too old for him," Bailey stumbles towards you and you shrink back in alarm. "But don't worry; I'll still be here to look after you."

He kneels down beside the tub, idly dragging his fingers through the hot water. Now he's close you can smell the alcohol on him and the first tendrils of fear curl in your gut. You've never seen him drunk.

“Get out.” You speak before your brain can stop you and his hand immediately grabs your throat, slamming your head back against the edge of the tub so hard you see stars.

"S-sorry! Bailey plea-"

He squeezes, choking you until you're clawing at his arm, leaving bloody trenches over his tattoos and water splashing everywhere as you try to escape his hold.

"Relax," he leans over you, bringing his face close to yours, forcing your attention on to him. "Relax princess and I’ll let go."

It's terrifying, your lungs screaming for air but you force yourself to try and relax. You let your hands drop from his arm and as you do he loosens his hold. It lets you breathe, and you choke in desperate gulps of air as he continues to loosely hold your throat.

He lets go completely when you completely still, his fingers dipping back into the slowly cooling water as he watches you hazily, his drunken state making his eyes look red and bloodshot.

"You don't get too leave," he reaches up to stroke your hair, running his fingers through it and tugging it sharply. “Not you.”

His free hand slips under the water, fingers grazing against your thigh and dipping between your legs when you whisper a plea for him to stop.

You don't dare try and push him away.

He's watching your face closely as he starts to gently stroke you, and you can't tear your gaze away from him. You let out a soft moan as he starts to draw slow small circles around your clit, your hips rocking forward despite your best efforts to keep still, the pleasure already beginning to rise.

He was being tender, almost gentle with you, focused entirely on stroking your clit when he could have easily been more forceful, rougher. He was so much bigger than you; he’d have no problem forcing you into anything he wanted. Perhaps it was that, the confusion of what you expected compared to what he was giving you making the pleasure rise so quickly. He presses harder, drawing a little gasp from you and his eyes zero in on your mouth.

“You make pretty noises.” He's drunk, obviously so, but those talented fingers between your thighs have you reaching your peak embarrassingly quick.

Your toes curled and thighs twitched around his hand as he continued his steady pace

“Bailey I-I’m-” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, you threw your head back against the rim of the tub as your orgasm hit you hard, back arching and so lost in the pleasure that the embarrassment of practically shoving your breasts in his face didn’t register.

"So easy," He snorts in amusement, his hand withdrawing to rest on your thigh. "No wonder you're so popular."

“I-I’m wasn’t leaving,” you gasp out, “I’m not.” you don’t know why you say that, some foolish urge to reassure him maybe, or an attempt at soothing the real punishment before it comes or maybe the pleasure still twitching through you is just making you brain a little addled. You regret saying it as his face darkens.

“Don’t. Lie,” His words are sharp, bitten out between clenched teeth before he takes a deep breath and nuzzles into your wet hair. "I always keep an eye on you princess," he presses a kiss to your ear which startles you even more. "Always watching." He continues mumbling into your ear, odd words of endearment that don't mix with the slurred promises of violence if you try to stray. "Understand?"

You nod quickly. You definitely don't.

His hand finally leaves your thigh and he cups your face, forcing you to look up at him. "Say thank you then." He presses two fingers against your lips and you open obediently.

Your appreciation is mumbled awkwardly around his fingers as he strokes your tongue but he looks pleased. He digs a nail into your bottom lip as pulls away, your whine of pain making his face flush and you think for one foolish second he's going to kiss you.

“Want my money. It's Friday.”

Oh. “O-Ok. It’s in my room.”

He stands, lingering by the edge of the tub and watches you expectantly.

Right. You don't look at him as you get out of the tub but you can feel his gaze on you, burning into your back as you grab your towel.

He moves, and you wrap it around yourself quickly, scared that he's going to reach out and grab you. He sighs as you turn, definitely closer than he was and you swallow hard, keeping your gaze adamantly above his waist line. You don't want to know.

He takes another slow step towards you and you find yourself unable to move as you watch him advance, your breathing panicked and uneven until he’s too close and towering over you.

You stay still as his eyes flick down to your chest then back up to your face, and your mind is screaming at you to run, but the warm press of his hand against your hip makes you mind go blank.

"Go get it, bring it to my office.”

“Yes sir.” His eyes flash at the title, dipping down to your chest again and you curse, making a silent vow not to use that word again.

The hand on your hip goes lower, tracing the hem of the towel and running across your thigh, back and forth over the damp skin and he leans in so he can run his nose along the shell of your ear. The little moan you let out makes him chuckle. “I’m not going to fuck you princess,” he murmurs darkly into your ear, “Id ruin you.”

You can’t help the breathy moan as he finally slips his hand under your towel slipping back between your thighs and pressing one of his callused digits against your entrance. “You earn too much for me to ruin you.”

You whine as he presses his finger deep inside you, your cunt still wet from your earlier orgasm and he grunts softly as your walls flutter greedily round him. Your whine turns into a disappointed whimper as he slowly withdraws. “But I think about it. Think about having you beneath me, making you scream,” You watch, enraptured, as he brings the finger wet with your arousal to his lips and licks it clean. “I think about it often.”

[doubleleoenergy]

So Pretty

Slurp her like a smoothie, swallow don’t spit that. Ay, kitty kat, Ms. Pussycat. You been a bad kitty, I’ma spank that.

Pairing: nomad!Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, age gap kink (Reader is 18), spanking, oral (male & female receiving), daddy kink, rough sex, dirty talk

Words: 2082

Summary: You bootycall Steve when your parents are out of town and things get wild.

Notes: This is my submission for @sableseb​’s 1.5K Lyric Challenge Celebration. The lyric I chose was “You been a bad kitty, Imma spank that” - So Pretty by Reyanna Maria ft Tyga. Also I apologize for this, I am a whore for nomad!Steve and all his deepest darkest fantasies.

It was almost 1:30am and y/n couldn’t sleep, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram to pass the time. Her parents had left on an early flight that morning to Cancun for their special twentieth anniversary celebration, leaving y/n at home alone for the entire weekend. 

She didn’t mind being by herself in her family’s estate, she preferred it, but there was an itch she hadn’t quite been able to scratch all day. And by itch that meant her insatiable horniness. Ever since her sexual awakening earlier that year all she could think about was sex. And luckily, her virginity had been taken by none other than Captain fucking America himself. Well, he didn’t really go by that anymore, given the events that had unfolded with the Sokovia Accords. At this point he was just Steve, laying low to ensure that no one would find out his location.

They had met completely by accident at a dingy bar downtown. One of y/n’s best friends had heard from her older sister how the bartenders there were never able to tell the difference between real and fake IDs, and so that’s how y/n ended up at the bar that night. 

She had turned eighteen that summer and had just started her first year at college, the two wanting to celebrate with a few drinks. Y/N had just ordered her first mojito of the evening when she saw him. He was sitting a few seats down from her on the padded bar stool, nursing the beer in front of him. When he heard the girls approach, their smiles flashing brightly as they handed over their fakes to the clueless bartender, Steve couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

Y/N’s friend had gone to the bathroom, leaving y/n alone to wait for her drinks at the bar.

“You’re not that great an actress.” Steve commented, his stare trained on y/n.

She flipped her hair over her shoulder, furrowing her brows at him, pretending as if he was talking in a language she didn’t quite understand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Steve slid his beer two seats down, moving so he was now sitting right beside her. He can smell the remnants of her spearmint gum on her lips. He leans into her ear, his voice lowering an octave.

“You’re not 21, you’re barely eighteen. I can practically smell your virgin pussy from here.”

And not long after that comment her dress was crumpled around her waist as she was getting railed in the bathroom sink of the men’s room. Her virginity was taken by a man she barely knew, and he took pleasure in every second of making her his personal fuck-toy.

Just the thought of their first encounter had her pussy throbbing, her finger clicking on the message app on her phone with a cheeky smile on her face.

Y/N: Come over, my parents are out of town 😘

Daddy 💋: What are you offering? 👀

Y/N: My kitty needs your attention 🐱

Daddy: Unlock the front door, be ready in 20

Y/N smiled at his text, her stomach flip flopping as she rushed downstairs to unlock the door, running quickly back up them and into her closet to find something more appropriate to wear. She had just been relaxing all day at home, donning a pair of black sweats and an old band tee. Running her fingers along the fabrics in her closet, she finally decided on her lacy black bodysuit that hugged her curves and pulled her tits in tight against her chest.

She knew exactly how he liked her when he came to visit: face down, ass up, and back arched, revealing her pretty kitty for him. Y/N got into position, hearing the click of the door opening and shutting five minutes later, his loud footsteps echoing up the stairs. Her pussy tightened as she heard his steps headed down the hallway towards her room, her heart racing in anticipation.

“There’s my pretty girl.” Steve’s eyes enveloped the sight of her ready for him, the lace accentuating her body perfectly. “And I see you remembered to listen to orders, that’s a good girl.”

He walked achingly slow towards the bed, crouching down behind her to examine her glistening folds. Steve swiped a finger against them, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. “God you’re so fucking wet, have you been like this all day? Couldn’t wait another minute so you had to text me late at night? Wanted to be stuffed with my fat cock before you go to sleep?” The words turn her on even further, bucking her ass back towards him to receive some form of friction.

“Now, now, pretty girl. You know how this works, use your words.” Y/N mewled on the bed, her eyes fluttering as she wiggled her ass back and forth for him. “Please daddy, want you to play with my pussy.” Steve’s chest swells with pride at her words, his cock already hard as a rock in his jeans. He moves his two pointer fingers, one on each side of her folds, spreading them apart to inspect her tight heat even further.

“So pretty, baby. Your pussy is just begging to be played with. Gonna eat you out real nice before you get fucked on daddy’s cock.” He leans closer to her cunt, licking a strip from her clit to her asshole, groaning at how her pussy juices taste on his tongue. He holds her pussy open further, spitting directly into her hole before diving his tongue in to lick inside of her. Y/N is letting out pornographic moans as his tongue swirls inside of her, her head lulling to the side against the bed.

“You taste delicious, be a good girl for me and push back on my tongue, want you to ride my face before daddy abuses your cunt with his cock.” He barely gets a chance to breathe before he’s diving back in, his thick beard getting soaked with her juices as she pushes her pussy back into his face, sitting back on it and fucking herself onto his tongue. The hair of his beard is tickling her clit which each thrust back, the familiar feeling pooling in the pit of her stomach.

“Fuck, daddy, feels so good, can I cum please?” Steve shakes his head against her, giving her a non-verbal okay as she spasms on his tongue, his big hands gripping her ass and holding her steady on his mouth, lapping up all the sweetness she had to offer. Y/N slowly comes back down from her high, panting as Steve pulls his head back from her, his beard coated in her slick.

“You did so good for me, baby.” He moves to stand behind her ass, throwing off his shirt, unbuttoning his jeans and stepping out of them and his boxers, his cock springing free against his chest. He strokes it languidly, his hand coming up and slapping against her bare ass-cheek, a soft cry leaving y/n’s lips from the sting.

“Turn around, be a good girl and get daddy’s cock nice and wet for your tight cunt.” Steve purrs, watching as y/n turns around to face him on her hands and knees, waiting at the edge of the bed and instinctively opening her mouth. Steve steps closer, rubbing his cock against her mouth, precum smearing on her bottom lip before he slowly pushes inside her mouth.

His hands move to grab onto her hair, holding his fistfuls up like the reigns on a horse, the perfect grips as he slides all the way inside, bottoming out at the back of her throat and watching as she gags trying to hold him there.

“C’mon, baby, I know you can take it.” Steve states, pulling his hips back so that his cock is on the edge of her bottom lip before slamming back in again, cutting off y/n’s air supply. He continues his movements back and forth, tears flowing from y/n’s eyes as she tries to relax her throat for him. One move forward has her choking hard, pulling off of him with a sputter, saliva running down her chin to her chest. She coughed a few times, Steve’s eyes growing dark as he tugs a fistful of her hair, making him look up at her.

“Did I say you could pull off my cock?” He asked, his erection bouncing in front of her face. Y/N shook her head, eyes wide and her mascara smeared from her tears. 

“N-No daddy.” Y/N stammered, her pussy clenching. “It was too deep daddy; I couldn’t take it.”

Steve’s face flashed fake sadness, his fingers trailing over the skin of her ass.

“You’ve been a bad kitty, I’ma spank that.” His hand moves off her and returns fiercely, popping her hard on her ass, y/n twitching from the contact. He spanks her one, two, three times before his hand rubs against her skin, watching the red indents from his fingers appearing on her skin.

“Now, do you think you can be a good girl for daddy again?” Y/N sniffles, wiping some of the tears that are streaming down her face, nodding her head eagerly.

“Yes daddy, just want to be your good girl.” She choked out, batting her long eyelashes at him. Steve walks over to the side of the bed, moving to rest his back against the headboard, sitting up with his cock in his hand. “Well then, come ride daddy’s cock and show me just how good you can be.”

Y/N turns around on the bed, crawling until she’s hovering over Steve’s thighs, lining up his cock with folds and swallowing down a lump in her throat. She slowly seats herself with his cock inside her, waiting as she adjusted to each inch before continuing to push down until she felt her thighs touch his chest. His big hands instinctively grab at her hips, holding her up as she starts to bounce on his cock.

His eyes stay glued to her chest as her tits bounce in the black lace, her nipples hardened against the fabric there. She’s moving up and down, her face completely fucked out in bliss, moans escaping with each push down onto his cock. 

“Daddy, please can I cum? Please!” She whines, her pussy leaking. His hands roughly pull her hips to him, a satisfied smile spreading on his face as she’s coming undone above him.

“Yes baby, cum on my cock, make a mess for daddy.” Y/N bounces down one more time before she stills, her walls milking his cock as she cums for a second time.

“God, you’re still so tight, you’d think that with all the abuse I give to your cunt that you wouldn’t be. You feel just like you did the day I took your virginity.” Her body lulls above him and Steve moves to push her back against the bed, pulling his cock out before slamming it back into her, holding her up by the back of her neck.

“You’re so fucked out, aren’t you? You came twice already; think you can give me a third?” Y/N mumbles something, her eyes blinking as stars form in her vision again, cumming for the third time with his cock deep inside of her. 

“That’s a good girl, look at you going all stupid on my cock. Haven’t let anyone else fuck this pussy since you met daddy, huh? I’m the one who owns your dumb holes.” Y/N whines below him, her body dragging back against the comforter with each of his thrusts.

“You like that idea, don’t you baby? Owning you and never letting another man touch you, ruining your holes forever.” He quickened his pace inside of her, his orgasm building. “Bet you’d let me stick my fat cock in your ass too, watch your dumb baby brain switch off when I fill your ass full of my cum.” Steve shakes her head gently for her to make eye contact with him, holding her stare as his breathing becomes ragged.

“Gonna fill up this pussy baby.” He announces, his hips stuttering to a halt as he paints her walls with his cum, letting his cum completely unload inside of her before pulling out slowly, watching as his cum and hers starts to leak out of her pussy onto the bed.

Steve leans over the bed and tosses his shirt at her, a devilish smile on his lips. “Clean up your mess, I’m not done with you tonight.”

 Tagging those who may be interested: @serendipityrogers, @fuckandfluff, @blackwiddows​, @my-divine-death​ @turtoix

[internalsealpanic]

For What It’s Worth

Summary: A deal with the devil goes smoothly. a/n:  As a joke, my co-writer suggested I post daddy kink fics on Father’s Day. Here’s Roman’s bwahahhahahahahahah. No further thought process was put into this. warnings: dub con, daddy kink, cockwarming, and infidelity/cheating

Masterlist

The men drag you into a lavish room. It's sleek with large glass windows and a wooden floor shined like mirrors. You think it's pretty but you can't help but think of how impractical it is to have such large windows until you consider how much money Roman Sionis has and how he'd probably spend it on bulletproof windows. You rub your arm as one of the men shoves you forward to face none other than Black Mask himself. You try to keep your posture straight which is made easier by the fact that the man refuses to even look up from his work.

"Boss, we found this woman lurking in the halls. She said she had some business with you."

"I- I work for the Maronis… Sort of.." You didn't lie about working for the Maronis but Sal Maroni wasn't in town and he certainly didn't have a message for Roman.  "But I'm not here for the Maronis today, Mr. Sionis. I'm here to ask for an extension for my husband's debt."

This gets Roman to look up from his paperwork. "How did you get past my security?" He says, scrutinizing. Your limbs are shaking. Maybe it would have been better if you could convince Mal to just skip town but that wasn't an option. Roman already had men looking for him.

You swallow in a vain attempt to steady your rapidly fraying nerves.  "I told them I was here to deliver a message from Salvatore Maroni and showed them proof," Your voice gets quieter as you speak, "that I forged." You clear your throat trying to wrestle up some bravado. "Anyway, I'm here to try and ask if you can extend my husband's debt."

Roman waves one of the men over. The man thrusts his hand out for the ID you'd shown him earlier and the supposed note from Maroni. They all look well made. They would probably be good enough to fool even a detective given you were able to clean them up a bit. Roman is quietly impressed but he's also annoyed that you had managed to sneak in and disturb his work.  "Who would that be?" He asks, not looking up from your work.

"His name is Mal... Mal (L/n)." Your husband has worked for Sionis even before you two were married before he came clean to you. He swears he'll get out of the life as soon as he manages to pay off this debt. He swore on his mother. Roman is looking at you, brow raised and mouth drawn into a flat line like he really can't remember who Mal is. How can he not remember someone his people are hunting down?

"He-- he runs drugs for you." Still nothing. "And he- he told me he owes you a large debt and that's why you've been sending men to find him for the last few days." You say in one long breath. You were exhausted just thinking about the false facers hanging around outside your home and the number of times they've harassed your neighbors for Mal's whereabouts.

"Oh yeah, him." Roman says, setting down the ID and resting his chin on intertwined fingers.

You dig your nails into your palms. It was uncomfortable the way he's sizing you up.

Roman looks away from you momentarily, focusing instead on his glove and what you assume is a spec of dust pinched between his fingers. "So what do you have to offer?"

You hold back a relieved breath and begin rifling through your bag.  "Well, we can offer our house as a collateral and there's also the shop and  maybe... the car but that may not be worth much..." You really didn't own anything substantial. Nothing that would interest a mob boss anyway and you didn't have any valuable information from working with the Maronis. But what you could do was beg. Men in power love nothing more than a reminder of their power and even with your meager possessions with enough honeyed words, you could buy your time. You just need to buy Mal sometime and you could work something out. "If we offer up more of our possessions as collateral we could- we could pay the debt off in a couple of years. Maybe a little more. Mal and I just need a bit more time."

A dark chuckle rises from Roman's chest at the hopeful look in your eyes. "You think you can pay that off in a couple of years? How much do you think your husband owes?"

You stop rummaging through your bag. Your head tilts up slowly to look at a grinning Roman. Nervously, you fidget with your ring as you rack your brain for the exact amount Mal told you. Was it a hundred grand or was it more? Did Mal even really tell you or did you come up with some reasonable number?

"Sweetheart, I asked you a question," Roman says with a snap of his fingers.

You flinch. "He- He told me it's only a couple hundred grand-"

Roman barks out a laugh that echoes in the room.  "Either your husband is stupider than I thought he was or... Do you think I would send men after him for chump change?" He says, voice rising with his temper.

"No..." You whimper shrinking in on yourself. Mal, what have you done?

He likes that sound. "Sweetheart, that husband of yours owes me 5 mil." Roman leans back in his chair to look at you. Not bad, he thinks. "Sir that- that can't be right..."

Oh, Roman definitely likes the way 'sir' rolls off your tongue. "You're right. It's technically 5.4."

You choke. Your stomach is hurtling to the ground with a splat.

Roman beckons you to come close. You're too dizzy and numb to disobey. You don't even react when Roman slides you into his lap or when he places a hand over one of your thighs. Your body reacts to his touch but your mind is still caught up in the numbers. How could you not have known Mal had so much debt? How could he hide it from you?

"Do you want to tell me I’m wrong again?" He asks, squeezing your thigh. You whimper. The simple touch and the gravelly voice in your ear was much more attention than what you'd gotten in months. You try to shush yourself but your breathing is already starting to get labored. Roman's lips quirk in amusement as he feels your body starting to tremble. "I can show you just exactly what he spent 5 million on if you’d like."

You really don't know if you want to but it's not like your input really matters at the moment. Roman snaps his fingers and one of the men in the room hands him a tablet. He grasps your chin with a firm hand to make sure you're paying attention. You try to wriggle out of it for a second but then give up, paying full attention to the numbers on the screen. "He spent an awful lot at one of my whore houses last month."

You go completely still at the words. You look hurt but nowhere on your face could Roman find any spec of surprise. He wouldn't doubt that this isn't the first time your husband strayed from you considering how much of his debt was spent there.

Your eyes go misty. Your body begins to tremble with barely contained anger. You try to breathe and calm yourself.   Digging your nails into your palms, you walk yourself through a breathing exercise. Mal told you it was the last time when you'd caught him for the second time.  He begged you on his knees for you to stay telling you that it was gonna be the last time.

Roman's hand slides up your inner thigh, inching your skirt up. "Did you know that’s what he spends his nights doing?" Your breath hitches you clamp your thighs together.

"I bet you’ve been so lonely haven’t you darling?" Roman whispers, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. He presses circles into your flesh. "Barely touched…barely kissed. Just waiting for your dearest husband to come home."  He nips at the spot behind your ear that makes you pull his shirt into a tight fist. Your head is hazy with a swirl of emotion but all you can concentrate on is the way Roman's touch is so firm against your body. "And here he is, at the Rosette Club." Roman places the tablet in your hands for you to see your husband standing impatiently at the front desk.

You let out a strained breath and your legs easing at his touch. Roman rewards you with a pleased hum. "It's funny," he says, inching your skirt up.  "The girl he requests the most has a passing resemblance to you. Wonder why he would bother paying  if he's got you at home begging for his cock." Roman brushes his lip against your neck. Your body reacts wonderfully to his actions, leaning back to give him space to do as he pleases.  Your warm body is so pliant to his touch and your voice is so sweet. "I can’t understand why he’d pass you up for another whore."

Roman's hand brushes the edge of your lace panties and he smirks. "Darling, did you wear those for me?" He toys with the fabric before stroking your clothed pussy, feeling the wet heat. "Would you like to hear my counteroffer?"

You nod, trying to keep quiet. You couldn't bear to look him in the eyes.  Roman grips your chin to force you to look at him. "I'm going to need you to be a good girl for me first." You swallow. "Are you going to be a good girl for me?"

You nod your head vigorously. It's hard to care about how eager you seem.

"Words, doll." Roman says coolly, yanking your head back by your hair.

"Yes- Yes, sir. I'll be good."

You just miss someone wanting you.

"Good,"He releases your hair. He grips your hip tightly as he starts undoing his belt. You suck in a sharp breath when his cock springs free.  Roman can see you staring which certainly inflates his ego.  "Sit on my cock and don't move until I tell you to, got it doll?" He says, stroking his cock.

You nod again, then quickly add: "Yes, sir."

You shift to face him, flicking your eyes towards the other men in the room. Roman snaps his finger. The men leave without a word. You're not stupid enough to think it's purely for your sake but you don't really think about it much as you push your underwear to the side.

"Good girl." Roman says, gripping the back of your neck as he guides you down onto his cock.

You cry out in short pants as you slide down his length. You feel your insides stretch for him. The veins of his cock hitting all the right spots. Roman grunts as your warmth swallows him down to the hilt. You let yourself adjust to his girth, grinding your hips against his.

Roman leans forward. You brace your hands against his shirt, waiting for him to pound into you... he doesn't. You open your eyes and watch Roman put on glasses and continue to work.

You squirm, trying to get him to move. Roman answers with a warning squeeze of your hip. "Now sit still sweetheart, I’ve got things I need to finish."

You pant heavily and wrap your arms around his neck sitting as still as possible.

Roman makes this incredibly difficult as he trails a hand up and down your spine and kneads your ass while he works.

You quietly breath daddy into his ear while he works in both desperation and retaliation.

Roman's patience is waning based on how hard he grips your flesh. It makes your skin heat and the coil in your stomach wind tighter. You squirm a bit trying to shift the angle just a little, just enough to hit the right spot.

"Sweetheart," he says in a warning tone, "what did I tell you?"

"I’m sorry daddy, I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable." You nuzzle your face into his neck breathing deeply. He smells like cigar smoke and whiskey.

Roman doesn’t have the heart to scold you since you're  behaving so well. "Are you always this good for your husband?" Roman sneers, squeezing your ass and moving your closer to him.

"Yes sir. I try to be." You're incredibly embarrassed considering the situation and trying so hard not to move your hips.

"You’re this well behaved and he doesn’t fuck you?" Roman grinds out as you squeeze around him.  "Then again, you are married to an idiot."

Roman tilts your chin to look at your face. Your husband really is an idiot, Roman thinks as he looks into your desperate, half-lidded expression.

"No wonder you were so touch starved," he says, starting to bounce you on his cock, "it’s a crime to leave a sweet ass like this untouched for months."

You let out a shaky breath as he continues the lazy pace, grinding his cock inside you in shallow strokes.

"Were you hoping he'd finally fuck you if your saved his skin?"

"Maybe." You whimper. You close your eyes, winding your arms tightly around his shoulders. You push your husband out of your mind and do your best to concentrate on the cock pulsing inside you. It was far too easy especially when he'd apparently pushed you out of his long before.  "I- I just miss being touched."

Roman brings his hand down on your ass and the slap rings out in the room. Your greedy hole strangles his cock. "Don't worry sweetheart, daddy will  take good care of you." He grinds out.

It's about another hour before Roman gets done both from being purposefully slow and being very distracted by all the little things your body does to let him know just how desperate you are.

Roman, finally done with his paperwork, runs his hand through his hair and leans back into his chair. That might have been the longest hour of his life. "Get off." He orders, brusquely. His patience was a hair's breadth from completely dissolving.

You whine and pout at him but use your shaky limbs to get off of Roman, moaning as his cock drags against your walls.

He can see the desire slick on your thighs. "Get on the desk and spread your legs for daddy." Roman says, loosening his tie.

He stands up and pushes you back onto the desk. You scoot back, careful not to disturb the paperwork much to Roman's amusement.  You spread open your legs wide, the bottom of your heels catching his legs.

You're so wet for him that you're dripping onto the desk. He looks into your debauched face and Roman's cock twitches in his hand. You would definitely make a killing at the Rosette Club. Roman pumps his cock as he watches you stroke your clit in time with his hand. You purr his name softly as you look at him with hooded eyes.

"Christ sweetheart, look at you. You're such a good little slut." Roman grinds out.

"Please, daddy."

"Put your fucking hand away." He growls.

You pull your hand away from your pussy and bring it to your lips. You lick up a long stripe, lapping up your own juices.

Oh, he is definitely keeping you for himself.

Roman pulls you closer to him and hooks your legs around his waist.

You wrap your arms around his neck. "Please daddy, I need you." You dig the bottom of your heels into his ass drawing out a sharp breath from him.

Roman kisses you, running his hands up and down your sides. You melt into the kiss consumed by the touches and passion you've missed for months.

He pulls back and tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth, biting it before licking over it to soothe the sting. The head of Roman's cock teases your folds, parting them just slightly. Your hand finds its way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, and he goes readily, deepening the kiss.

Roman slides his cock back into you and you scream into the kiss. He fucks you recklessly into the wood of the desk. It screeches and scrapes against the wooden floor as his cock thrusts deep into your pussy.

Groping and claiming every part of you he can reach, Roman pulls back from the kiss. He yanks on your shirt, causing one of the buttons to pop off,  then sinks his teeth into your shoulder. You hiss his name, the stinging on your shoulder mixing with the pleasure.

"Tell me doll, has that husband of yours ever made you feel this good?"

"No, sir. Ah! He- He's never been able to- Ah! Satisfy me like this."

"That's right, baby. You'll only be hungry for Daddy's cock, won't you?"

"Yes, sir." You say in a breathy moan, dragging your nails across his neck.

Roman hisses a litany of curses in your ear as your pussy milks his cock, gripping him and making it harder for him to pull away. He pushes you flat on your back as he thrusts his cock deeper into you.

He bites your shoulder again. Your walls spasm around him. "You tighten so nicely around me when I do that." Roman hisses bites you again, then groans. "Christ, baby, just like that."

After a few more thrusts, you cum on Roman's cock with a pathetic little whimper. He empties himself inside you with a groan.

You lay on the table flat on your back, your breathing harsh.

Roman straightens himself out like nothing ever happened.  He sneers down at you. You look completely fucked out and hazy from your orgasm.

"You're going to work for me," he says. You sit up and nod as best you can.  Roman leans forward,  nibbling on your neck and caging you in with his hands. "And you're going to come to my office any time I ask."

"I-" You swallow down the raspiness of your voice and try to sound as pleasant as possible.  "Of course, sir."

Roman yanks your head to the side. "You’re such a good girl for daddy." He purrs, sucking a mark behind your ear. "Tell me the truth sweetheart, does that two-bit gangster even know you're here?"

You shake your head. This was your last resort plan after your contacts backed out of helping you get out of the city. You could easily create new identities for you and Mal but getting out of the cities without being hounded down by False Facers was an entire different problem. One you didn't have time or the resources to resolve. But somehow all that planning felt like it went to waste. Mal was never going to change for you.

"Mal  thinks I'm going to my boss to beg him for a loan."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because Mr. Maroni would never lend me the money if he knew what it was for. He thinks Mal is a waste of an investment..."

"You really are wasted on that husband of yours." Roman tuts, stroking the side of your face. You soak up the affection shamelessly. You know full well it's wrong to seek comfort in someone else especially someone like Roman but... you feel lonely and used and you just want someone that wants you so openly.

"Get dressed," Roman says, taking out his phone, "and get your things from that shit hole you call a house."

You open your mouth to ask him why and where but he cuts you off with an annoyed look.

"If you're going to be my pet, I can't wait an hour to fuck you."

Your cheeks heat up as you shuffle to get dressed. You look nice bent over and flushed, Roman thinks. Maybe he should bend you over his desk sometime. No point mulling it over now. He'll have time to think about it.

You quietly mutter a thank you sir before exiting the room with your legs awkwardly clamped together, your cute little cunt still filled to the brim with his seed.

It should take you about an hour to pack your things and get back to him. Maybe longer if that husband of yours begs you to stay. Well, Roman can eliminate that second possibility right away.

He opens his phone and sends a video with the message: "Your debt is paid."

If your husband is smart, he'll skip town.

If he's stupid, he'll rack up more debt.

If he's even stupider, he'll protest.

Either way, Roman has you and if you're as smart as he thinks you are, you'll be worth the 5.4 mil in and out of his bed. If you aren't and he gets bored, he could always just stick you in one of his whore houses and make a killing. There's no shortage of men with deep pockets who'd like to get their hands on a hussie like you.

It's all a win-win for Roman.

[rudystopit]

Let the Games Begin

[Gojo x F!reader]

summary: gojo is a lab assistant who flirts with everyone he meets. this particular day, he decided that you're the perfect person to tease that day.

warnings: nsfw, college au, public sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation, and fingering.

wc: 2k

everyday since the beginning of the spring semester, the lab assistant has not missed a day of flirting with the girls. the professor sees it but does nothing to stop him. he thinks because he got piercing blue eyes and snowy hair that he's hot shit and girls will fall all over him. well he's right... for the most part. girls fall for him and they love it when he gives them an ounce of attention. and well he is attractive. it's just he's also arrogant and cocky.

you walk into your lab ready to start whatever dumb thing your professor has planned. you sit a one of the long tables and read the instructions. you notice the white hair man saunter up to you.

"go away gojo," you mumble.

"i'm hurt. i thought you loved me, y/n" he dramatically holds his chest.

"id love to kick you in the face," you look up and he's inches away from your face. his hand holds your chin.

"you're eyes are so beautiful, y/n" you smack his hand away and look back at the paper. "is that a blush i see?" he sits across from you. "aww does y/n have a secret crush on me?" he laughs.

you sigh and walk over to get the materials. other students start walking in and gojo gets called away.

'thank god that idiot is gone,' you thought as you collect a beaker and some chemicals. you walk back to your table and start measuring out what you need. you pour the blue liquid into the cylinder and look at the little lines. you started to feel like someone was watching you.

you yank your skirt down. hopefully the feeling didn't come from someone accidentally seeing your panties. suddenly your phone vibrates the table. you glance at it.

you looked around and you saw the white hair asshole sitting two tables behind you. you glared at him and pulled your skirt down more. you went back to the experiment. you measure out the clear liquid. you wrote down how much of each.

you slowly pour the blue into the beaker. then the clear. you sat and watched the reaction. you wrote down what you saw then went to the sinks to wash and dispose of the liquids.

while at the sink, you feel a large body press up against you. his hands resting on the counter at your sides. he leans down to your ear and whispers, "wanna do our own experiment?" you finish cleaning the beaker and cylinders. you turn face him. he smiles and starts to lean down to you. you smack him square across the face.

"i was just playing. damn y/n," he pouts as you walk about to your table. you sit down and do the reading attached to the lab. you answer the stupid questions and write up the conclusion. you hand it in and see people leaving.

you always stay behind and clean up after labs to help out the professor. you start by picking up all the beakers and cleaning them. there about 15 students and some partner up so it wasn't a lot but they've gotta be really cleaned. you hum while washing the beakers.

"that was pretty rude of you, you know," he complains while sitting on a desk.

"i don't care," you answer. he jump down and walks to you. he leans against the other sink. you "accidentally" splash him with water to get him to move.

"damn you y/n," he says with a smile. "now i'm wet," you giggle to yourself. "oh you think it's funny?"

"yeah," you laugh. he fills a beaker with water and throws it at you. today was a shitty day to wear white... his face goes red and he turns away. "you dumbass," you turn off the water and go to your bag. you always kept a hoodie in there in case one of your classes gets too cold. you unbutton the shirt and fold it. you feel his eyes locked on your body. you didn't hear him walk up to you so when you felt large cold hands grad you side, you yelped. you quickly pull on your hoodie. "back off perv,"

"you're the one who strips right in front of me," he smiles.

"i thought your could handle yourself," you spit. you grab your bag and start out the door.

"help me clean up the mess you started!" he yells.

"no, piss off loser," you continue out the door. you hear his footsteps chasing you. you booked it. you hid in the stairwell to catch your breath. you sat down on the cold floor.

you hear the door open. shit. you get up and run up the stairs. you hear him sprint up the stair after you. you just challenged the star track player to a race. you were never going to win.

you open the top door. the old lab rooms. it was dark so at least you could hide. you sprinted down the hallway and went into one of the room. you slide under the professor desk. you scrunched into a ball and waited for your impending doom. you hear the stairway door slam down.

"y/n you know i'll find you!" he yells. you giggle to yourself. you would never admit it out loud but you were having so much fun.

you heard his footsteps in the other rooms and moving of desks and slamming of doors. it was getting pissed. you phone vibrated.

you turn your phone completely off so he couldn't hear the vibration. you hear him walk into the room you were in. he walks around and pushes a few desks then he closed the door. you moved from your spot and checked to see if he was still there. if he wasn't you were gonna make a break off it and run across campus.

you shuffled to see around the filing cabinet part of the desk. you felt a hand grab your foot. shit. he pulls you up from under the desk.

"gotcha!" he pins you down with your hands above your head. his knees on either side of your hips. "you tricky little bitch," he says through gritted teeth. you could help but laugh. his hand goes around your throat. you instantly stop.

"gojo," you try to say. "ok you won, get off."

"you really think we're done here, y/n?" he smiles. your heart is beating out of your chest. you try to push him off. "i've liked you since you started here. i always tried to act cool and try to get your attention but no you hate me. you actually hate," tear form in his eyes.

"i don't hate you, but i really don't like you right now," you say. he lets go of your neck and wrist. you sit up and slide away from him.

he sat there silently crying. you watched him. after a few minutes of thinking you push yourself closer to him. you wipe his eyes. he leans into your hand. his large hand lays flat against yours. he pulls it off his cheek and he kisses your palm then your wrist.

"i'm sorry," he whispers.

"for what? paying hide n seek?" you laugh. he gets a light chuckle. he leans in to kiss you. You melt into his sweet lips. you cup his cheek as he crawls on top of you. he looks down at you. his snowy hair covers with beautiful blue eyes.

his thumb swipes over your bottom lip. you instinctively open your mouth and he slides it in. you suck on his thumb while keeping an innocent look. his eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes.

"goddamn," he whispers. your hands move to his belt buckle. your fingers slowly undo the belt. he smiles down at you and pulls his thumb out of your mouth with a pop. he pulls his belt off and loops your hands threw them. "this is for the little stunt you pulled," he growls into your ear.

you unbuttons his shirt and shrugs it off. you eyes dart around his toned chested. he moves off of your lap and in between your thighs. his hands disappear under your skirt. you feel his fingers loop around your panties.

he drags them down your legs and shoved them into his pocket. he reaches up and opens your mouth. you stick out your tongue, a long string of spit drops onto you tongue.

"swallow," he watches. "open," you do so and he puts his middle and ring finger into your mouth. you swirl you tongue around them. "good girl," he whispers and pulls out his wet fingers.

his hand goes back up your skirt and you feel his fingers spread your folds apart. you bite your lip. his fingers drive into your warm hole. you squeeze your eyes shut. his free hand pushes your skirt up. he hold it up for you to hold. you take into your hand.

he watches his fingers get eaten up by your hungry pussy. his thumb rubs small circles in your sensitive clit. he bites his lip as you squirm under his touch. his eyes drifted away from your heat and up to your face. red and twisting in pleasure. his fingers speed up as he watches your mouth fall open in a silent scream.

"keep making those faces, baby," he coos as he curls his slender fingers graze the spongy walls of your pussy. the slick began pooling in his hand and, the noises his fingers made inside of you, made him harder each second.

you pressed your knees together to help the knot in your stomach not to snap. his large hand grabs your knee and pushes it open. "not on my watch," he chuckles as his fingers spread apart, to stretch you open. you moan out his name and you feel him tense you.

you repeated his name over and over and over again till the knot in your stomach snap. his fingers keep thrusting in you as you rode out your high. you grip onto his wrist to make him stop but he keeps going.

he pulls out his long fingers. you look at him through half lidded eyes as he sticks out his tongue and slides them into his mouth. he smiles and moans out. his eyes flutter close and he slides them out with a pop. "so good," he smiles. everything has to be a damn show with him.

you knee him in the side. his hand drags up you leg and squeeze your ass. he smirks as he grabs your hips and pulls you onto his lap. he looks up at you and kisses your chest. "so beautiful!" he coos. you glare down at him.

"do you ever shut up?" you look down at him. he's hands let go of your hips and they slip to his waistband. all you heard was unzipping and shuffling. his tip pressed against your sensitive pussy. you bite your lip. his hand grips your jaw.

"don't hold them in, darling, i want to hear how good i make you feel," he whispers.

his cock goes into your entrance and you eyes close shut as he pushes himself deeper. your head falls to his chest as you let out a breathy moan into his ear. his hands go to your hips and he rocks you back and forth. you let out cute little moans that make him go wild.

you start rolling your hips to let him lean back on one hand as your hands are tied and on his chest. your moans alone make his want to come. your pussy clenches around him in the best ways. he hits every part of you that send you over the edge. he lets out a small moan as you feel your second climax forming.

his hand travels up your back and grabs a fist of your hair. he pulls it back to look at your face while you come. "good girl, come on my dick," he watches as your face twists in pleasure and how your mouth falls open. your breath hitches with every trust from the man below you.

he moans out and comes in you. the lights of the room turn on. he stops what he's doing and his hand flies over your mouth.

"what is going on here!" someone yells at the door.

"extra credit!" gojo yells back.

"gross, get the fuck out of here," the man yells back, flicking off the lights.

gojo's head falls onto your shoulder. he starts laughing. "wanna take this back to my place?"