#mug fiend

[humblemooncat]

Me: Child, you do realize hot chocolate is not good for you, right?

My dumbass Orange son: FATHER. THE CHOCOLATE, FATHER. I REQUIRE THE CHOCOLATE.

[aim4thesunnmoon]

[the-spaced-out-ace]

i may have woke up in a terrible mood and had two emotional blows in a row (my phone didn't charge overnight and my flip flops to stay clean in the bathroom broke) BUT at least my new flavor of tea is good. it is black tea with coconut and almonds. live laugh tea

[mukuroom]

Holiiiiiiiii brought you some cookies!

thank you :] these look delicious...

[luveline]

i have a request for bombshell!reader if you're up for it!! <33 maybe somehow the team finding out that they're *actually* together and their reactions to it!! it would be soo funny i think naisnakaka 😭 thank you and i hope you have a good day!!

thank you lovely, you too ♡ fem

Emily isn't expecting it. She's been betting on you both for months, she has money in the pool, but knowing you're together versus really truly seeing you together are surprisingly separate things. 

Spencer has you up against a wall. It's funny but it isn't, how shockingly intimate the moment is, how you're looking at him like he's hung the moon just for you. “It's not a bad thing,” you're saying, a hand pressed softly to his front. 

He's not kissing you or anything salacious, he's not even really shoving you, he's just got his hands on you, one on your shoulder holding you to the wall and the other just under your arm. “I know it's not, don't worry–” 

“I do worry. I don't want you thinking that anything about you is wrong.” 

Emily should walk away. This is clearly private, but she's just never seen you both like this. She had her suspicions, that behind the shy touches (and the more confident ones from you) and secret smiles was a real, intimate relationship, but to see it displayed in front of her has her jaw dropping. 

“I don't think that," he says quietly, ducking his head in a way that forces you to make eye contact. Emily might call it brave, but it would be better labelled as comfortable. Spencer's not shy because he knows he can be vulnerable with you, and he's reassuring you now because you can do the same. “Why would I think that?” He kisses you. 

It's sudden. Emily almost gasps. 

He pulls away, says, “You don't need to think about that kind of stuff, angel, I know who I am,” over your lips, and then he kisses you again. 

“I just love you,” you say, words half lost in the kissing and the quiet. 

Emily shakes herself and backs away, guilt like lead in her fingertips. She should not have watched so long, no matter how curious, but it's not as though you're in a private place, it's a shared conference room—

“What's with the face?” 

Emily waves her hand, as if to say, don't talk, but Morgan's a fiend and JJ not much better, looking over Emily's shoulder eager for the drama. “What, Prentiss?” Morgan asks. 

“Y/N and Spencer,” she whispers, giving in. 

Morgan's face is a picture, and predictable. He shuffles around Emily and JJ follows, her lips parted in surprise. 

Morgan peeks inside, and doubles back, pushing JJ before she can get a look. “Wait!” she insists in a whisper shout. 

“That's not PG viewing.” 

Emily saw it herself, but she still can't believe it. Nor can she believe when you appear from the conference room together unabashed ten minutes later, Spencer's hair in disarray, his cheeks (and his whole face) a rosy pink. You sit at your desk and Spencer touches your shoulder, promising you a cup of coffee. 

You're smiling as you reapply your lipstick. Your teammates look on in poor acts of casualness.

“You guys are perverts,” you murmur, rubbing your lips together to spread the colour evenly. 

“I– we–” Emily sits back in her seat, defeated. “You could've told us.” 

“Should've,” JJ says. 

“Thought you guys already knew.” You put the cap back on your lipstick and beam at them. “I'm not subtle, am I? But don't tease him too much, okay? We wouldn't want to torture him.” 

“Come on,” Morgan laughs. 

Spencer returns with your coffee. He's not subtle, either, come to think of it, putting your coffee mug carefully on your coaster. “That okay?” he asks. 

You don't even try it. “That's perfect, handsome, thank you.” 

He strokes the soft line of your jaw with the back of his finger, a split second touch that practically glances off of you, and heads back to the kitchenette. Morgan gets up, presumably to chase him down for congratulations, while the girls move in. 

“It's actually funny how it happened,” you say immediately. “I kissed him by accident.” 

“How do you kiss someone by accident?” JJ asks. Emily nods furiously in agreement. 

“Surprisingly easily,” you say, looking as pleased as a person can be. “It was a few weeks ago, we were in the police precinct in Jacobsville…”  

[dstryvampres]

Smoke Signals

Jonathan Crane x Reader

Summary: Dr Crane is tired of you talking back.

Warnings: smut, fingering, age gap(reader is early 20s, crane is mid 40s), power imbalance, brat taming(I think??), reader is a smoker, dub con, p in v, unprotected, praise, degradation, spanking, creampie

Word count: 2.2k

The trek to Dr Crane office on the fifth floor was quick and easy, seeing as there was no one else using the elevator because it was so late at night. When you push open the door to Dr Crane’s office it creaks, alerting him immediately to your presence.

“I thought I told you to quit smoking before you come to my office,” is what Dr Crane decides on greeting you with. His face is stern, pen in hand as he writes out a statement on a student’s quiz.

“Yeah, well I was fiending all day and they don’t let you have a smoke within 15 meters of the psychology testing centre. Hard to get a smoke break in,” You quip back, hanging your tote bag over the back of a chair before sliding between it and Dr Crane’s desk to sit.

“Well, if you won’t quit all together, you could at least have the common courtesy to not reek of it near me,” He scoffs, clicking his pen and setting it down on his desk.

You toy with the fabric of your sheer black tights as Dr Crane sets aside whatever he was working on before and brings out two sheets of paper. Two rubrics, one for him, which he settles in front of him, and one for you, which he flips towards you.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Dr Crane asks, standing up from his desk and heading towards the table near the window. He clicks on the kettle, staring at it for a couple seconds before he starts to hear it bubble up before he turns to you again.

“Just any tea is fine, except ginger, I want something herbal tonight,” you reply, rummaging through your tote bag looking for a pen to use for tonight.

“So herbal tea?” Jonathan asks, shaking his head at you in the corner of your eye.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I said,” you sit up straight once again when you find your pencil case, plopping it down on Dr Crane’s darkwood desk.

You hear a sigh from the professor as he turns around to look out the window at the rain, his fingers toying around with the packaging of a tea bag. No matter if Dr Crane happens to be your boss, you can’t deny that he’s insanely attractive. Young looking face with high cheekbones, blue eyes that stare holes into your being, dark brown hair that he somehow styles perfectly without trying that hard, all packaged in suits that do him far too many favours. Sure he has a slightly bitter attitude, but you’re no better. With all the times you snap back and push his buttons he’s far too patient with you, and seems to genuinely care about your well being. Whether that care is actually genuine or is just to avoid having to find another TA, you’re not one hundred percent sure.

A click comes from the kettle, and soon enough Dr Crane sets down a steaming mug in front of you before sliding into his own chair with a mug in his hand.

“Thank you,” you say, blowing on the steaming liquid in hopes to cool it down quicker.

“Don’t burn yourself.”

Dr Crane grabs his pen before directing both of your attention to the rubric and assignment guide. He drones on about the basics, word count, percentage to dock based off of just principle things, before delving into more important specifics to the assignment. For a supposed research essay, the need to include the students own fears into the mix was a weird choice to be a necessity. There’s no need to ask about it, the conditions for the assignment have already been set in stone, the due date is in about a week.

“Everything making sense?” Dr Crane asks, looking at you, eyebrows furrowed together.

You nod in response, reaching over to grab a highlighter from Dr Crane’s collection across the table. Maybe you should bring up the weird conditions of the assignment…

“Actually, just one thing confuses me about this assignment,” You start, looking for any signs of anger from Dr Crane, knowing just how often you seem to push his buttons before continuing, “why do the students need to disclose their own fears in this assignment, it’s supposed to be a research essay on different ways the brain copes with fear.”

Dr Crane clenches his jaw, looking away from you annoyed. Acting like you were questioning the fundamentals of grammar and not some strange one off point he decided to add to this assignment. He shakes his head, taking off his glasses and laying them down on the table.

“You’re not the one running the class, are you?” Dr Crane asks, voice showing just thin his patience has become in a matter of seconds.

“Well, obviously not, but I’m just-”

You’re cut off with the screeching of Dr Crane’s chair as he stands up, walking towards the door. Fuck, is he going to leave? Is he going to ask you to leave? Are you being fired out of one of the best looking jobs on your resume? When you hear the click of the lock on the door, you’re not sure if your fate is better or worse than any of the options thought of before. Nevertheless, your body tenses up and your head starts to fog up, whatever is going to happen you don’t think it will be too pleasant.

“You know what? I’m so sick of you always thinking you know better than me,” He slowly walks over to you as he speaks, shoes clicking on the linoleum floor of his office.

“I don’t think that,” you respond, voice strained. Now he’s standing over where you’re seated, forcing you to look upwards at him. You feel so small and powerless in this moment. Maybe, it’s only now and here, in this position, that you finally remember that this man holds your entire future as a psychologist in his hands.

“I want you to remember who has more leverage here, who can get you into the best jobs in the state,” it’s like he can read your mind.

You gulp and close your eyes. You’ve spent the last year and three months of your masters degree and time as a TA under Dr Crane pushing back against him, challenging the man. You’re sure that it’s here, in his locked office that he will give you a piece of his mind before dropping you completely. Leaving you and your master’s thesis to flounder in the last half of it, beg for anyone to aid you in the specific thesis everyone knew only Crane was suitable to supervise at this university. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Please, don’t drop me and my thesis. I won’t challenge you ever again, I’ll do anything you want, please,” you beg, opening your eyes to stare at Crane’s. Hoping the eye contact would connect with some deeper part of him, but his blue eyes stared back, cold and emotionless.

“Anything?” Crane asks, quirking an eyebrow at your begging.

“Yes, anything. I’ll get on my knees and beg you, I’ll mark every assignment myself-”

“Face the table and put your hands on top of it,” Crane demands.

“What?” Your mind short circuits at his request, not expecting something like that.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to challenge me ever again?” Dr Crane sighs, crossing his arms, waiting for you to obey.

You follow his request, placing both your hands on the table, looking down at the dark oak wood. It’s cold underneath your palms, but that doesn’t help with the sweat accumulating onto your palms. Dr Crane hums behind you, seemingly happy with your compliance to his request. He kicks your feet away from the desk, making your butt stick out more.

“Now, I want you to spread your legs for me,” Dr Crane puts a hand on your ass, squeezing the flesh. Your eyebrows furrow, taking a second too long for his liking and earning a slap to the ass, you quickly move to spread your legs.

“Good girl,” Dr Crane hums, massaging the spot where he hit you previously. You whine in response, feeling a heat start to grow in your cunt.

Dr Crane smacks your ass again, a little lighter than before, almost teasing. His other hand is placed on your ass, both hands move down to your thighs, then back up to your ass, this time sliding under your skirt and flipping it up. Your pink panties are visible through the sheer black tights causing Dr Crane to sigh out.

“You feel how hard I am, slut?” Dr Crane asks, you hear the smirk in his voice as he presses his hard-on into your ass. You moan, feeling the weight of it press into your wet cunt and soiled panties.

Quickly Dr Crane rips open the thin fabric of your tights, allowing for direct access to your panties and cunt. He feels your wet heat through your panties, quickly moving them to the side to expose your cunt. You moan as the cold air of his office hits your cunt.

“You’re so wet. Do you let all your professors fuck you? Or am I a sort of desprate case?” Dr Crane cooes, ghosting his fingers over your exposed cunt.

He runs his fingers up and down your cunt, collecting your wetness over them before pushing them inside of you. The intrusion is so unexpected it makes you gasp, pull away from it briefly. He fucks you with his fingers shallowly, at a bored pace. You push back onto his fingers, begging for more. Dr Crane removes his finger from your cunt, and you whine in response.

“Fuck, you’re a desperate whore huh?” Dr Crane laughs, giving your ass another harsh slap.

Behind you Dr Crane unzips his pants, freeing his cock. He lines it up with your hole and just stays there. No matter how much you try to push back and whine for him to put it in he isn’t moving.

“You’ve been such a bitch, I don’t think you deserve my cock. Why don’t you beg for it?” you can hear the cocky look on Dr Crane’s face just from his voice. Though it doesn’t seem to matter much as you open your mouth to beg.

“Please Dr Crane, I’ll be such a good girl. You can use me anytime and I’ll never be a bitch again, as long as I have your cock, please doctor please,” you plead, wiggling your hips.

“Good girl.”

Dr Crane pushes inside of you. His cock is average length, but stretches you out in a way no other man ever has. It makes your head spin as he spears you on his cock.

“Fuck, I didn’t expect a whore like you to be so tight,” Dr Crane pants out, putting both of his hands on your waist.

He pulls out of you slowly, before slamming back into your cunt. Setting a brutal pace as soon as he slams back into you a second time. Only faltering when he smacks your ass. You yelp out each time, before pushing back onto his cock. Dr Crane continually stretched you out and hit the most sensitive spots inside of you. Your legs start to shake half way through, the only thing stopping you from crumbling being Dr Crane’s cock and hands. He pushes you back on him each time, almost demanding you take him in further.

“You fuck me so good doctor,” you moan out, “Can I cum doctor?”

“Yeah, cum all over my cock dumb slut,” Dr Crane says, speeding up the pace.

One of his hands reaches down from your hips to your clit, rubbing fast and hard on it. A touch so hard and borderline painful on the sensitive bundle of nerves tips you over the edge in mere seconds. Your knees buckle. Stars flood your vision. Your boss fucking you through the whole thing.

You start to weep from overstimulation, tears welling in your eyes when you come back from your high. Dr Crane is still fucking you in the same brutal pace.

“Sluts like you don’t get breaks until I come too,” Dr Crane snarls out at you and your weeping, earning another sharp smack to your ass.

The tears spill out over your eyes as you cum again all over his cock. Your walls clenching and seizing around Dr Crane so hard his cock becomes painful as it pumps in and out of you.

He speeds up and his pace starts to become more aggressive, until Dr Crane stills inside of you. His cum rushes into your cunt, holding himself inside you after both of you have finally come down from your high. Once Dr Crane pulls out of you, you feel as his cum comes spilling out of your cunt.

“I’ll give you your share of the papers to mark next monday,” Dr Crane says, tucking his cock away and zipping up his pants. “I expect to not hear any confusion about the grading from you, I feel like I explained myself pretty well.

taglist: @paradiseprincesss @xanaxiii @luluartpop

[mncxbe]

#FIENDISH

𝑫𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒊 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡𝒄𝒘: alcohol consumption, titjob, cum eating (denji being down bad), public☆ activites☆, smut mdni

Denji knew you were trouble from the first moment he laid eyes on you. you were sitting across from him at the low table in the bar, huddled up between two other devil hunters from your division. with your pretty face and gorgeous figure, you were absolutely to die for. Denji found himself staring at your cleavage multiple times that evening, his gaze shyly trailing off when you met his eyes and gave him that sweet smile of yours. despite being a fiend, you seemed to be on good terms with your colleagues, chatting and laughing away like you didn't have a worry in the world– and Denji was infatuated.

he's always been weak for pretty girls like you, so with each mug of beer he downed, Denji found himself unable to take his eyes off of you. he grinned dumbly, listening to you telling stories from your missions like your voice was music to his ears. you were so goddamn charming and interesting. honestly, it was just a matter of time until the two of you ended up in a bathroom stall, sloppily making out.

"Shit–" you huffed out, almost losing your balance as you pressed him further against the wall. it was a tight fit and your bodies were pressed tightly against one another but neither of you could care less. Denji leaned in to kiss you again, his hand finding support on the sidewall and he could feel the old, yellowing paint chipping under his palm. but all he cared about was the feeling of your mouth on his, teeth clashing as you kissed him messily, unashamedly, your tongue swiping along his bottom lip and god it was so hot his knees almost gave out.

you could feel the growing erection in his pants pressing up against your navel, a sly smile tugging at your lips. "needy, aren't you?" you hummed, tilting your head to the side to lick a stripe of his neck as you dipped your hand in his pants and Denji shuddered. "fuck, yea. please touch me"

giving his dick a few strokes, you smiled to yourself when you noticed how much precum he was leaking. you took a wild guess and assumed Denji was a virgin. hell, this was most likely the first time he was ever intimate with a woman considering how worked up he was after a few kisses– you could feel his entire body shaking as you worked your hand up and down his shaft. "hold on, Denji. i wanna try something" you hummed, gently pressing down on his hips, making him fall back onto the toilet seat cover. hastly getting down on your knees, you unbuckled the blond's belt and shuffled his pants and underwear down mid-thigh. his dick slapped against his abdomen, its tip glossy with precum and you eyed him hungrily.

Denji's face flushed red when he saw you sliding down the straps of your top and bra. "what are you doing?" he asked cautiosly and you smiled up at him from between his legs. "you kept staring at my tits all night. i thought you'd like to see them" taking his hand in yours, you guided Denji's palm to your chest and he cupped your breast, gently kneading the flesh.

his breath caught in his throat, eyes shooting open as he played with your boobs. it was incredible, they were so soft and pretty, basically spilling our from your now unclipped bra as you took off your clothes. once your chest was bare Denji swiped his thumb over your nipple, making you shudder in pleasure. he was in awe, gazing down at your chest with those glossy, lustful eyes, just like a puppy eyeing down its favourite toy.

"lean back, okay?" you giggled, pushing his back against the grimy toilet tank as you shifted closer to him and pressed your boobs together. Denji watched with keen eyes as you scooped his dick between your tits, moving them up and down his length. a content sigh fell from his lips at the feeling; you were so warm and snug. it definitely felt ten times better than when he was using his own hand.

"does it feel good?" you asked in a honeyed voice and the blond nodded. "yea, don't stop" with a gentle hand, Denji brushed the hair from your face, tucking it behind your pointed ear. you looked like one of those elves from the movies that he saw on billboards around town.

it didn't take long for the blond to feel his orgasm building up. the heat of your skin mixed with the clammy air in the stall made his head spin, his breath growing shallow as he got closer to his high. with needy hands, he fumbled to get a hold of your breasts and huffed out an apology "'m sorry Y/N think i'm gonna cum soon. you feel so warm and ah fuck—"

without a warning, Denji's dick twitched, milky cum spilling on your tits and you did your best to keep it from dripping down onto your clothes. fuck, he really came a lot and so fast. embarrassmet was etched onto his features as he looked around for some tissues. lucky him, there were none. of course there was no toilet paper, this was the bathroom of a run-down pub in Tokyo.

you couldn't help but smile as you looked up at him– he was cute when he was worked up like that. motioning him to lean closer to you, you pressed your breasts together. "come clean me up, Denji"

his brain barely registered your command. it was as if he short-circuited. the cum dripped down your chest and you spread it along your breasts, making your skin shine in the dim light of the stall. he didn't hesitate to take your fingers into his mouth when you held them out to him, tongue swirling around your digits to collect his seed. though he cringed at the taste, the blond licked your fingers clean before moving to your chest, tracing his tongue along your breasts. the heat of his mouth against your skin made you almost delirious, heat pooling in the pit of your stomach as you bit down on your lip and laced your fingers in Denji's hair, pulling him closer. the momentum made you stumble back and you ended up sitting on the bathroom floor with your back pressed against the wooden door, the blond's mouth still latched onto your tits.

it felt oddly intimate, having this guy you met just hours ago lick your chest clean of his cum. he mumbled praises against your skin, running his hands up and down the sides of your body like you were made out of porcelain "you're so pretty" he smiled, sucking on your soft flesh and you let out a needy sigh, gently pushing him away. Denji looked taken aback for a moment, scared that he did something wrong but you quickly soothed his worries with a peck on the lips.

"i think we should go back to the others. i bet they're wondering if something happened to us"

"yea, sure. you're right" he smiled, helping you up to your feet and rubbing the remnants of saliva off your chest with the sleeve of his shirt. you quickly got dressed up, helping him arrange his disheveled clothes and clean himself up before returning to the others.

despite your initial concern, no one seemed to notice you've been absent for that long. they were too caught up in conversation. still, as you sat back down at the table, one of the girls gave you a worried look. "are you guys okay?"

"yea, Denji felt sick and threw up, but he's okay now. you know what drinking for the first time is like" you clarified, straight up lying to your colleague's face but she accepted your answer with a nod.

"well, i'm glad you're okay now" she adressed the blond but he was too busy staring into his lap to register her words. when he looked back up he caught you eyes from across the table and gave you a weak smile. that was surely a night he'd never forget.

[prettyboykatsuki]

✮  tags ; top + gn!reader (no desc of parts but reader is fucking him), unabashed daddy kink, implied verse, small age gap, bottom megumi, petnames (boy, baby) thorough discussion of megumis daddy issues in exactly the direction you think, 18+

✮ wc ; 1.3k

✮  a/n ; i haven't slept . im not responsible for anything. will not be taking questions at this time. 🫡

He's the prettiest thing you've ever seen in your life.

You tell him as much. He pretends to hate hearing it. Soft features bend at hard angles to convincingly drive in the fact that he detests it. Megumi is always like that. For the years you've known him - anything he's at risk of playing his hand too quickly, he retracts. You think that's why you're so addicted to getting him to let go.

He scowls, has the signature Zenin mean mug that almost makes the whole schtick convincing. You know better though. Maybe because you've known him since highschool, or maybe because you simply find him easy to read.

You've never met someone so touchstarved or so delicate all while being so, so mean. There's a lot Megumi can do but he's shit at hiding when something bothers him. When he's irritated, he's petulant and when he's pleased - you'd almost describe him as docile. In his own way. In the way a dog who used to cage fight could be.

You have an interesting relationship to Megumi. You're a stray just like him - with your family being a Zenin lapdog and you being their black sheep. You have a lot to relate on, but Megumi finds your attitude grating. Finds the harshness of your personality difficult, and finds the finesse you have for slaughter and violence to be nauseating.

It's probably why he makes wide, wet eyes at you whenever you're alone. Closest thing he has to someone he can depend on with more experience. You're quick to appraise his work when you go on trips together. Despite your acting smug and Megumis frustration about your attitude, he soaks up the praise like a pretty little sponge. He's only a few years younger than you though, despite how he acts.

(Sometimes you think he wants the gap to be a little wider. )

A cute kid, only two years younger than you. Soft, striking green eyes. Soft lips. A mean little glare and spiky mop of black hair to compliment pale, cream colored skin. Megumi blushes easy, bruises even easier. His knees and elbows are a pretty cherry-blossom pink like something out of a movie scene.

The first time you fuck Megumi, its mostly because you're drunk and interested. It'd be stupid to not be interested in a face so pretty and desperate for approval.

All times after that are false happenstance. You make a routine of it - a silent game that makes it look like you're coercing him so he doesn't have to accept his own wants with any seriousness. You're cool with the ambiguity cause you're a little sick in the head. It's enough to fuck him, and sometimes when you're generous - to have him fuck you.

Megumi is pretty when he's being fucked. He changes his tune fast when his dick is a little hard and his guard is down - never thought that bratty little fucker could whine like he's in heat until you pulled the sounds out of his mouth yourself.

You always reaffirm how much he loves attention and praise and pampering when you fuck Megumi. He likes when you appraise him like that too. Soft compliments about his pretty little hole and the tightness of his waist. You manage it with relative ease. Makes your whole core throb just to see how much he twitches over something so slight and so easy. Such a mean fucking kid - such a brat, all welled up anger and abandonment issue.

Sometimes you wanna make him cry from him pain.

But most times, like now - you offer Megumi sweet pleasure. Give him that gentle, doting authority that he seems to fiend for. Desperate for reprieve in a way that stains his face, despite his attempts to brush it off.

Megumi takes dick like he was born for it. Slender fingers grip at your waist and claw at your back like he wants to rip you in half - tear you limb from limb but his legs wrap around your waist like he'd die if you left him for one fucking second. Megumi likes being full, you think. And he likes more when you praise him for taking your cock with such ease.

It's not rocket science to figure out he has some issues with authority. That distant relationship with his sensei and absent father make it obvious that he never wants to let anyone get too close. He could never really entertain certain relationships, he could never actually ask for approval. It's too little, too late.

Still, it surprises you a little when you first hear him say daddy. Not a lot, but enough that you pause in mid-thrust to stare at him a bit. He's mortified at the realization.

But you're not much less of a scumbag you figure, than all the figures in his life. You nod instead, feel arousal spark up in your stomach and claw it's way into your throat as you fuck him even harder.

("Daddy, huh?" You laugh because it's funny and you think the feeling of being so turned on you pass out is inappropriate. "Sure, baby. I'll be your daddy if you want." )

He doesn't say shit to you about it afterwards. Can barely look you in the during your post-sex aftercare and chat - though that conversation is never particularly romantic. You think the whole thing makes him want to die, so you don't really bring it up outside of a knowing look.

But it happens more often than that. Like a dam breaking, something slips and now Megumi can't close it despite how desperately he seems to want too. It's not even that you're particularly into it at the start.

But well, he's pretty. Prettiest little thing you've ever seen in your life, even though he's tall and strong. He's got this grace that overwhelms you into fucking him dumb whenever you can. Try as you might, you will is not strong enough to not lust over someone like him calling you daddy. That level of unprecedented whining, the affection, the need in such an embarrassing word makes your feel so horny you can barely think.

So, it doesn't particularly surprise you when Megumi calls you daddy. Not anymore.

He's weepy in the face, somewhere in the distance - and he's still wearing his pajamas when you come see him. The scene is uncomfortably domestic between two people who aren't dating, but you don't really care either way. Megumi is pretty everywhere, but he's especially needy getting fucked on his kitchen counter sitting up to cling to you.

His arms around your shoulders, face drawn together with shameless embrassed. His cock is twitchy, leaking against the flat plane of his stomach with unbridled enthusiasm. He says it in a whisper today which you can't help but find cute.

It's raw in the back of his throat, mildly gravelly as his nails dig into your shoulders with an enthusiastic whine. "Daddy. Fuck, please, can't."

"What's daddy's boy want huh?" You say, obviously mocking - a hand wrapped around shaft with a thumb over his slit. Megumi shivers. Lets out a shameful moan at the word boy that makes you laugh hard, makes your head spin dizzy with lust.

"Wanna cum," He says, but doesn't beg. Doesn't know how and couldn't figure it out if you paid him. You've spoiled him rotten after all. Filthy, really but he's prettier when he's acting precious. At least to you. "Make me cum, daddy please."

"Really milking it today, huh boy?" You chuckle and all he does is whimper. "Okay, okay. So fucking needy. Go on and cum, baby. Cum for daddy."

Megumi lets out a whine. A sound you barely knew he had in him as you say it that time and you laugh again and again as you bottom out. You watch him squirm as he finally finishes, back arching off the counter as the pleasure runs through him.

His face is still hazy when he comes down. Still beautiful in that way that makes you want to fuck him stupid and indulge for the rest of your life.

"Feel good, baby?"

He blushes faint and doesn't bother pushing you away. "Mm."

[frudoo]

Road-tripping with Dad!141 <3

Warnings: Mentions of snacks/eating, GN reader!

Kyle wakes you up at 5:30 on the dot with a hot travel mug in hand, already filled to the brim with your favorite hot beverage fixed up just the way you like it. This man already has a comfy outfit picked out for you to wear, with a sweatshirt of his own as an option if you get cold. While you go to wake the kids up, he stocks the minivan with their favorite snacks as well as yours and his own, blankets, chargers, plushies, etc. 

     Kyle giggles when he sees the kiddos dressed to match you, happily strapping them into their car seats. He grins and sings along to the cheesy soundtracks they insisted he put on as soon as the wheels hit the main road. He holds your hand when you start to doze off, stealing glances at your peaceful face and the children passed out in the back through the rear view mirror. Definitely enjoys taking the roads with prettier views, even if it takes longer and it means more bathroom stops. 

     Simon is also an early bird, but he’s the one to go get the kids dressed and ready while you sleep in. Once they’re awake and hyper as ever, he lets them wake you up by jumping on the bed and giggling in your ears. With you awake and in a good mood (contrary to if he had been the one to wake you), he gives you a kiss on the forehead and goes to pack up the truck. He peels and cuts all the fruit, cheese and other treats and places them into snack boxes, leaving them out for you to pack into the cooler. Since he does all the "heavy lifting," he leaves you to put the kiddos in their car seats (like he doesn't make giant children).

     Simon is absolutely the CEO of the Dad Grab™. As soon as he hears one of the kiddos opening up their snack box, the cupped hand goes back like second nature. If they dare to complain he gives them the blankest stare in the rear view until they dramatically sigh and place the food in his palm. He prefers to take the quickest route, but if one of his babies begs him to go see the pretty trees, who is he to say no? He makes sure everybody gets a turn to hear their favorite music on the radio. He will also 100% make you feed him even though he has a free hand—he’d just rather keep it planted on your thigh. 

     Johnny refuses to wake up early, not when he’s on leave. He’s big on sleeping in, perfectly content to cuddle you until you’re screeching at him that you’ll all be late. While you’re dressing the kids, he’s brewing coffee for the both of you and munching on a protein bar. The kiddos’ snacks are already in a cooler in the fridge (because you know how your husband is), and the back of the 4Runner is packed with all of the luggage (you made him do it the night before because, again, you know your husband). 

     Johnny insists on being the passenger princess because he’s jus’ so sleepeh, and pouts when you glare at him while all the kids dangle from a different one of your limbs. That look is enough for him to get into gear, helping you get the children into their car seats and plopping into the driver’s side while you settle into the passenger’s seat. Like Kyle, he’s a big fan of singing along to his kids’ favorite songs, albeit more obnoxiously until they (and you) are begging him to take it down a notch. If the children are asleep, he’ll try to cop a feel with only a 50% success rate.  

     John is another early riser, and he likes to wake you up with gentle kisses to your neck and the side of your face. The kids get to sleep in while the two of you prep the snacks and get the truck loaded. He helps you wake and dress the children, getting them settled into their car seats with their favorite toys. He brings earplugs and a neck pillow for you if you want to get some rest, assuring you that the kids will be fine and he’ll wake you if anything happens. 

     John is another Dad Grab™ fiend, tickling the kiddos’ knees until they give in and plop a snack into his palm. He’s not picky with music, happy to let you or the children decide, but he does prefer to turn the radio off when everyone’s awake and alert so that he can explain the history behind all the different landmarks as you pass them—he chooses the longer route for that very reason. He loves to hold your hand while he drives so he can bring it up to his lips and kiss your knuckles without taking his eyes off the road.

Thanks to my bestie @xoxunhinged for helping me with these ;)

[wxxpingangxls]

WET

+synopsis; the hottest criminal solicitor is in town and she’s ready to fight tooth and nail to prove her new clients innocence. I wonder how he’ll thank her…

+content/warnings; black reader but little to no explicit detail, taboo relationships, stalking, peeping tom, death threats, begging, mentions of murder, graphic details, angst, cheating, reader smokes, semi public, oil massage, nasty and messy sex, squirting, brief toe sucking, running from him, pussy drunk Toji, mr munch, ass eating, Toji is grown and got stubble, face sitting, 69, mating press, doggy style, overstimulation

+pairings; Felon Toji x Lawyer!Fem Black Reader

+a/n; ending is rushed idk why 😞😞 but i hope you enjoy lovely’s!!!🩷

“So, Mr Fushi… Uh, so what exactly are we here to discuss today?” you stated, papers on the table and pen in your hand ready to note down.

He raised an eyebrow as his eyes wandered down to the bright diamond ring blinking at him on your finger. You were used to this behaviour. Felons and criminals acting cold and calloused as if you weren’t the one thing between them and their freedom.

“Look, I don’t want to be here either. But we have got to work together. There’s no point in you sitting on your arse, acting as if I don’t have better places to be. I could be on a trip to Barbados right now but I’m stuck here saving your arse-“

“You done?” he interrupted slyly.

“No, I’m not done. You’re wasting everybody’s time. It’s not my fault you decided to kill that guy at the bar. The court appointed me as your attorney and so I’m going to try my best to help you win this case but I can only do so much.” you huffed at the end of the long speech watching his eyes close in annoyance.

“Look lady, I’ve got a child to go back home to, I don’t have time for this. Can you get my case dismissed or not?”

“I was getting to that,” you stated with venom laced on your tongue. “We can always claim self defence. Given your history there’s not much else,” The question of whether he had a mental illness crossed your mind but quite frankly, you weren’t in the mood to converse with this fiend any longer.

“That’s a pretty ring ya got there… You married?” he questioned. His cuffed hands were lying in his lap. This man had stressed you so damn much that you hadn’t realised how, handsome, he was. Despite the ugly and completely unflattering appearance of the orange jumpsuit, you could see the tattoos that encapsulated his large biceps, big enough to crush your skull with. The man you were defending - or rather attempting to - had the meanest mug written all over his face. But you were a woman before you were a lawyer, and your heart was with another.

“Not yet, I’m engaged,” you huffed.

Toji scoffed before turning to face the large mirror. “Is that all Mr Fushiguro? If so, I’ll be on my way,” and without another word, you swiftly left the room, closing the door on the way out. The correctional officer walked out towards you. “Did he tell ya what ‘appened? Ya know with the guy?” You eyed the officer down, observing his hands that were stationed on his belt. “Exuse me? I’m not entitled to disclose that information,” you rolled your eyes as the click clacking of your heels echoed across the hallway.

“Hi baby, how was your day?” your fiancé kissed your temple as you looked down at the plate of food in front of you.

“It was okay,” you shrugged indifferently.

Your fiancé was the executive marketer of a large company. “I’m sorry to here that, I’ll be upstairs if you need me,”

You didn’t say a word as he walked away. In spite of the disturbing scene unfolding in front of your eyes on the TV whilst watching “The Perfection”, you couldn’t help but wonder how Mr Fushiguro was going. Sure he had a nasty mouth and the patience of a toothpick but there was something so intriguing about him. Maybe it’s because you were tired of you boring and plain life. You’ve always been like that.

It wasn’t anything new for you to leave something that was perfectly good to something subpar purely out of boredom and this was no exception.

The next few weeks consisted of you mostly signing papers, talking with your client, viewing crime scene photos and talking to detectives on the case.

The old Bailey loomed large and imposing, its grandeur echoing centuries of justice. Inside, the air was thick with anticipation and tension. You were a sharp and tenacious criminal lawyer, and this was no new information as you adjusted your barrister's wig, your eyes scanning the courtroom. Your reputation for winning impossible cases was well-earned, and today, your skills would be put to the test.

Toji Fushiguro, your client, sat at the defendant’s table. His presence was both magnetic and menacing, a dangerous mix that had everyone on edge. Accused of a brutal murder, his piercing green eyes betrayed no emotion as he watched the proceedings unfold.

Your first meeting had been fraught with silent judgments and unspoken words. You had read his file meticulously, aware of the gravity of the crime he was accused of. A single father found dead in at the bar, after a fight had broke out, all evidence pointing towards Toji. Yet, something about the case felt off to you, an instinct you couldn’t ignore.

You spent countless hours pouring over the evidence, every piece scrutinized under your critical gaze. Late nights at the office became routine, the flickering desk lamp being your only companion. Toji's file lay open before you, his eyes in the mugshot staring back with a challenge and scar in menacing smirk.

The interviews were intense. Toji, ever the enigma, offered little help. His answers were curt, often cloaked in sarcasm. But there was something beneath the surface, a flicker of vulnerability that intrigued you.

A ghost of a smile played on Toji’s lips. “You’re different from the others. They’ve all looked at me like I’m already convicted.”

"So? Why would you think I'm different? Let’s not forget why I’m here,” you stated.

Days turned into weeks, and your professional relationship took on a different hue. There was a dangerous allure in Toji’s defiance, a charisma that drew you in despite your better judgment. You guys would often find yourselves locked in heated debates, the air between you crackling with unspoken tension.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day in court, you found yourself in a dimly lit pub, nursing a bourbon. The door creaked open, and Toji walked in, flanked by the ever-present guards. Their eyes met across the room, a silent understanding passing between them.

“What the hell are you doing here, Fushiguro?,” you said as he approached the table, your voice low.

“I needed a drink,” Toji shrugged, sitting opposite you. The guards stood discreetly nearby, giving them a semblance of privacy.

You arched an eyebrow. “Well then, get your damn drink and leave me be?”

Toji leaned forward, his eyes darkening. “I think you’re the only person who sees me as more than just a murderer.”

“Oh please, that’s my job as a defendant. You’re onto nothing,”

Your heart pounded in your chest. The line between right and wrong blurred, your connection undeniable and perilous. you knew you were treading dangerous waters, but something about Toji made it impossible to walk away.

As the trial progressed, your determination to uncover the truth deepened. You successfully discovered inconsistencies in the evidence, hidden motives that pointed towards another suspect. Each revelation brought you closer, your late-night strategy sessions charged with a mix of frustration and undeniable chemistry.

The day of the verdict arrived, tension palpable in the courtroom. You stood tall, closing arguments a masterclass in legal brilliance. You had laid out the evidence meticulously, casting doubt on the prosecution’s case.

As the jury filed back in, the room held its breath. The foreman stood, the verdict hanging in the balance.

“Not guilty.”

The words echoed, a collective sigh of relief from your team. Toji turned to you, a mixture of gratitude and something deeper in his eyes. You couldn’t show your true feelings, not here, not now. But the promise of something more lingered between the energy in the air.

As the two of you continued to stare, a bright blinding bling brought his attention back to the engagement right adorning your right finger.

A few weeks after the trial, life starts to return to normal. Your fiancé working hard to make you happy, however your client still plagued your mind.

Your routine became his script. He knew when you left for work, the route you took, where you got your morning coffee. You would catch glimpses of him sometimes—at least you think you do—a flash of his face in a crowd, the shape of his shoulders disappearing around a corner.

One evening, as you leave your office, you feel it again—that sensation of being watched. You quickened your pace, glancing over your shoulder, but the street is empty. You told yourself it’s just your imagination, but the fear lingers.

Toji followed at a distance, his footsteps silent. He knows how to blend into the shadows, how to remain unseen. Every time you turn around, he steps just out of sight, watching you with a predatory intensity. His mind races with thoughts of you, dark fantasies that he can't shake.

Despite the ever growing suspicion of a potential stalker, you decide to treat yourself to a massage at your favorite spa, hoping to find some peace. The soft music and dim lighting work their magic as you settle onto the table, your mind beginning to unwind. An all too familiar and soft female voice tickles your ear, “Hey honey, just give me five and I’ll be back to give you the massage of your life,”

“Hurry Tina, my back hurts,”

A few moments pass before the masseur enters. You hear the door close softly and the click of bottles being opened. Hands begin to work on your tense muscles, and you let out a sigh of relief. The touch is skilled, firm yet gentle, but there is something vaguely unfamiliar about it.

A whisper brushes against your ear. “Did you miss me?”

Your eyes snap open in shock. Toji’s voice is unmistakable. Your heart races as you realize the hands on your body belong to him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you hiss, trying to keep your voice steady.

Toji’s hands continue their work, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “I needed to see you. To feel you.”

“What the fuck does that even mean, you bastard? I thought you had a kid to go home to. Instead you’re here feeling me up. Have you no shame?” you whisper, torn between fear and a forbidden thrill.

“I know,” he murmurs, his lips grazing your ear. “But I can’t stay away from you. You’re in my blood, Y/N.”

“Bullshit, you bum,” you spit.

His words are intoxicating, and you find yourself caught in a web of desire and danger. Every stroke of his hands ignites a fire within you, a fire you thought you had extinguished.

You know this is wrong, that you should stop him, but your body betrays you, melting under his touch. The line between right and wrong, sanity and madness, blurs once more.

As Toji’s hands explore your body, you realize that you are no longer just in the shadow of doubt. You are in the shadow of obsession, and there is no turning back. Your mean words did nothing but further push him to make you his.

“If you want me to stop, you know the word,” he carefully caresses the skin of your lower back. You weighed out your options. You were going to be married soon, if you were going to live life you’d might as well do it now before it was too late.

You hummed in acknowledgment, before finally agreeing to his lingering touches. It was going to be a one time thing after all. He gently flipped you over so that you were lying on your back. “Just so you know, Toji, this is a one time thing. After all I’m engaged.” he ignored you as he grabbed your thighs so that they were touching your chest.

He watched as your cunt leaked out before he’d even touch you. His hands weren’t even that good. He figured it must’ve been a long while since you’ve been dicked down good.

He wasted no time before sucking on your bud, your moans being loudly ripped from your chest. “Fuck!” you knew it’d been a while since he’d had some pussy, but damn it couldn’t have been that long. He groaned out from your sweet taste. “My God, I didn’t think you’d taste this good…” he whined out.

He spat on your clit making sure his saliva ran down to your puckered hole, ultimately making a mess out of you. “Oh yes!” you moaned out before cupping your mouth. You had momentarily forgotten you were in public, but the shame of being too loud quickly left your soul as Toji continued to suck on your pussy.

His tongue entered your tight hole, expanding the tight rim. “You ever had your ass ate before?”

“Excuse me?” you sat up utterly shocked.

“N…No? What kind of question is that?”

“Huh…No wonder you’re such a tight ass…Literally…” he scoffed.

He continued his ministrations on your sweet cunt. “If we had some privacy I’d eat your ass out so good,”

You couldn’t even keep your legs up anymore, your orgasm was coming closer. Toji knew this well and started sucking and pulling on your clit. Your face scrunched up in pure bliss. Bliss you hadn’t felt in ages. “Mphm! Toji!”

“Yeah, that’s what I like to hear.” he groaned out in the response.

“Right there Toji! M’ so close!”

A harsh knock interrupted his actions as your abruptly sat up. “Y/N? Oh my Goodness? Are you ok?” Tina asked from the other-side of the door. She shook the door handle multiple times before banging on the door again. “Did you lock the door? Open it please!”

“Did you seriously lock the damn door?” you knocked the upside of Toji’s head.

“I wanted us to have some privacy,” he shrugged indifferently.

You rolled your eyes before groaning, “Hello? Who are you talking to because I know it’s not me,” Tina huffed out annoyed.

“No one, give me a minute I’m coming.” You ushered Toji out to hide behind the cupboard door. The plan was when Tina wasn’t looking, you’d have Toji sneak out then back to the front door. From the minute you met your client you count tell he was a fool. Did you think he was that much of a fool? No. No one could’ve predicted this amount of foolishness. You silently scolded the man as he stood behind the door, waiting for the right moment to sneak out.

One night, after a long bath, you slipped into your favorite silk bathrobe, its softness a comforting embrace. The moonlight filtered through the curtains as you stood by your bedroom window, looking out into the night, wine glass in hand. The city lights twinkled in the distance, but your mind was far away, consumed by thoughts of Toji.

Unbeknownst to you, Toji was there, hidden in the shadows outside your window. His eyes were locked on you, a hunger burning within them. He watched the way the silk clings to your body, every movement a tantalizing tease.

You sighed, running a hand through your damp hair, oblivious to his presence. Toji’s heart raced as he imagined what it would be like to touch you again, to feel your warmth against him. The memory of your pussy haunts him, a forbidden pleasure that he craves more than anything.

He knew this was wrong, that he should stay away, but the pull is irresistible. You were in his blood, an obsession that consumed him. His eyes traced the curve of your neck, the way your robe parts slightly, revealing a glimpse of the cleavage beneath.

Inside, you closed your eyes, lost in thought. Your fiancé was a good man, but he didn’t ignite the same fire in you that Toji does. You tried to push the thoughts away, but they keep returning, relentless and unforgiving.

Toji’s breath hitched as you loosened the belt of your robe, letting it fall open slightly. He gripped the windowsill, fighting the urge to break in, to take what he so desperately desires. His mind raced with dark fantasies, each one more intoxicating than the last.

You stepped away from the window, the cool air brushing against your exposed skin. Toji watched every movement, his body tense with longing. He knew he should leave, but he couldn’t tear himself away. You were his obsession, a forbidden fruit that he was determined to possess.

As you disappeared from view, Toji lingered a moment longer, the image of you burned into his mind. He will find a way to have you, to make you his. In the shadow of obsession, he waits, his desire growing stronger with each passing night.

Your ever growing need for Toji’s mysteriousness pulled you further into a dark pit you knew it’ll be hard to get out of. And if your fiancé was to find out, you’d surely be casted away as a harlot. You had to choose between your pussy and your head, and you had to choose wisely. Will you do the right thing and stay true to your fiance, rejecting Toji’s advances and promises to eat you out so good or will you go behind your husband to be’s back and sleep with the same murderer you helped avoid jail time?

For a minute, one might’ve compared your mental turmoil to that of Hamlets distain and hesitation upon hearing that his father was killed and now he was set to avenge him by killing his uncle but these were two very different situations.

But alas, you believed that you could have many men in your head but as long as you had your true love in your heart then you’re a loyal woman.

That’s exactly how you found yourself with your mouth full of his thick and slimy cock whilst smothering his face with your cunt. Sucks and slurps filled the room as the two of you got on with such harshness of enemies. The gargling of his dick filled the room while he moved his head back momentarily to watch as you clenched on his fingers, holes begging to be filled. He smirked as a glimmer of an idea flicked in his eyes, as they peered up to your winking hole.

His tounge slowly lols out before giving the tight hole a small lick. He let out a boisterous laugh as he watched you shudder and mumble to no avail. His deft fingers moved to your clit as he found a rhythm for his tongue to moaned against your puckered hole. You grind your pussy against his face, moans muffled by his thick cock.

Your clit throbbed as his fingers moved faster, never loosing their grip and his tongue keeping its rhythm. You groaned loudly and clearly this time, his dick was now limp and his cum was scattered all over his thighs and your mouth. You squealed out his name and his onslaught on your slick pussy only got more overwhelming for you and you had no where to move.

Your back arched from the overstimulation and your hands clenched at the pleasure he was feeding you. What you had done to deserve such a treat, you had no idea, but you weren’t complaining. Toji’s hands came down on your cheeks, rubbing and massaging the muscle as he did.

Tears welled up in your eyes and your belly tightened and without a word, he knew you were about to cum. He quickly swapped his tongue and hands, sliding a finger into your asshole and placing his lips around your sweet clit. The spiky stubble of his hair added to your stimulation , adding to your pleasure.

There was no holding back with Toji . He was here to show you how to feel good. “Move,” without warning he turned his head to the side, tapping your arse twice. You blinked your confusion away as his hands guided you so that he was looming over you. You couldn’t say a single thing before you felt that familiar burning of his girth stretching you out. Drool seeped from your mouth as he reached deeper.

“Ah ha ha. Feels good, doesn’t it baby?” he boasted.

Nothing but babbles left your mouth as he gently lulled you to silence. With a firm grip on your hand, and his duck fully sheathed into your deep pussy, he began his rough thrust. Fap. Fap. Fap. Fast paced thrusting in and out, knocking the wind from you. He had rendered you completely speechless which was almost impossible given the type of person you were.

“Lights are on but no one’s home…” he chuckled to himself as he continued to slip in and out.

You whined and squealed as you felt his curved dick rub against your g-spot. It was far too much for you, your cheeks were hot and throbbing, lips bitten and bruised and your throat dry and sore. Tears flew from your eyes and his fast thrusting never faulted but instead intensified as he realised where he was hitting.

“I know you didn’t try to fucking run from me,” he comments sternly. For a second you feel yourself go numb. All you needed was a moment to collect yourself. It was far too much is what you tried telling him, begging for a semblance of a break.

“You ever try that shit on me again, I’ll tie you up,” He flips you over with a firm grip on your hip, pushing your legs up your ears. “Toji? Toji!” you whine in estxasy and his dick reach’s deep. “Wait! Toji, Please!”

“Please what, girl?”

You opened your mouth to speak , but before you could, he started moving again, impaling you on the hefty limb. He watched as your expressions contorted from bliss to shock, upon feeling a wet and slimy tongue between your toes. This man was nasty, downright sick, and you loved every second of it.

A fat thumb lingered down to the small bud, before rubbing vigorously, He watched as your moaning became high pitched and your hips bucked. Your stomach sucked itself in as you tried escaping his grasp, squirming in his nearly painful grips. “Oh my- Toji, Wait! I’m going to to-!”

Your loud plea was interrupted by an obscene squelch and a splashing ad a stream of juices left your sore cunt and aimed right for the mans chest. He jeers as he saw your o-face falling inlove even further. It didn’t take a while for him to pump you full of his thick hot cum, and it certainly didn’t take long for your fiance to get the picture Toji sent of him eating your used up and stuffed cunt out.

It also didn’t take long for Toji to send a video of him stuffing you again in full nelson this time, making you hold the phone.

It also didn’t take long for Toji to get in trouble again with the law. You too hadn’t seen each other since that eventful night and he couldn’t help but be grateful, for if you knew just how nasty he was, you would’ve killed him yourself and he wouldn’t blame you.

After the whole debacle was dealt with, he found himself yet again being arrested, and on the other side of the conjugal line was you. Sitting prettily in your work attire, brand new engagement ring sitting on your finger as you discussed his charges. “I miss you Y/N” he’d say. “I wonder what you’re up to these days,” he’d enquire, knowing full well, if he was free he wouldn’t have to.

And whether Toji turned himself in on purpose after everything he’s done just to see your bright face again, or whether it was a pure coincidence that he’d just so happened to be arrested for something he had gotten away with for so long, you had no idea.

All you knew is that you regretted that night.

Well, not entirely.

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

for @artilaz

afab gn tav, voice kink, smug insufferable raphael

-

The devil just kept appearing when he wasn’t wanted. It didn't seem to matter how Tav or their companions always told him to buzz off, that they weren't interested in his infernal offers. Raphael was a persistence predator, and every time he showed his handsome mug, he was patient and cordial, as if each stale interaction hadn't happened. As if he was so confident they would return to him, they would need him, that their disregard for his generous attention simply slid away like water off a duck's back. He was like a hyena waiting for his cornered prey to fall into his mouth – toying with his food, as Gale had said – and it was infuriating. So when Tav heard that now familiar little sound of hellish teleportation, when the stink of fire and sulphur flooded their nose for a moment, they and their companions shared a grumble. Not this again…

“Haven't you got anything better to do than bother us?” Tav said; they wanted to get the first word in for a change.

Something was…different about Raphael this time. Though he was always polite to a fault, Tav thought that maybe they could sense an undercurrent of irritation or frustration developing from their constant rejection, that even a powerful everlasting creature like him had his limits – wishful thinking, probably. Yet as he stood there, emerging from his portal of hellfire and brimstone, there was a certain energy to him, something in the tilt of his smile, the gleam in his eyes…some kind of dark delight he was thrilled to share. Tav felt on edge, and they weren't the only one. They heard their friends shifting uneasily behind them, moving to grip weapons just in case.

“Now, now,” Raphael crooned, waving his hands in a passive motion. Always so expressive. “There's no need for such a vitriolic response. I'm not here to try and convince you of the error of your ways. Quite the opposite, in fact. At least, for one of you in particular…” His deep, soulful brown eyes stared at Tav, through Tav. I know something interesting about you, they said. Tav's stomach dropped.

“The fuck are you talking about?” Snapped Karlach. Raphael's eyebrow twitched, but he barely glanced at her.

“He's not talking about anything,” said Tav. “He's just being cryptic as usual.” Raphael's twitching eyebrow raised high on his forehead.

“Really?” He drawled with an obnoxious little tilt of his head. Dragged the word out, growly and amused. Deliberate enunciation. Sweat began to bead at Tav's temples, cold fingers of suspicion crawling up their spine. “Talking…such a simple concept, and yet, words…their sounds…can hold so much power.”

The baby hairs on the back of Tav's neck and arms rose. “You know,” they whispered.

“Yessss,” Raphael purred. A viciously smug smirk twisted his features, showing a glimpse of the scheming fiend he truly was. How much he was enjoying their horror and discomfort. “Sweet little mouse…I know.”

“What does he know?” Asked Karlach. “Tav, what's going on?”

“Please, not in front of them,” begged Tav when Raphael's smirk widened.

“As you wish.”

He clicked his fingers and, just like when he first accosted them, Tav found themselves in his House of Hope, at the mercy of its master. Raphael stood, backlit by the roaring fireplace, creating elongated shadows from his human guise. He observed them for a moment in silence, clearly delighted.

“Imagine my surprise,” he said after consideration, speaking in swaying dulcet cadence. “When I learned that the stalwart adventurer rebuffing me at every turn, denying my every attempt at co-operation and treating me as though I were naught but a bothersome snake oil salesman…is the very same adventurer bringing themselves to a breathless, mewling climax each night in secret, beneath their hot and sweaty covers, aroused by thoughts of…ah, how did you phrase it in your throes of ecstasy? My “rich and rumbling baritone”? Creative, I'll give you that.”

“How did you find out?” Demanded Tav despite their mortification.

“I have my ways. Don't fear, I've hardly the spare time on my hands to watch you every night, but let's just say that, for a devil of my calibre…the magnitude of a mortal's lust for me can be something of a beacon through the din of your chaotic realm.”

“Well, then,” Tav muttered miserably. “What's your plan? Are you going to blackmail me into signing your bloody contract?”

“Tempting,” Raphael hummed. He stroked his chin. The way he was looking at Tav made them want to fidget. They resisted the urge. They'd given this devil enough already. “Hmm…no, I think…tonight, little mouse. When your friends are sleeping, when you've tucked yourself so sweetly in bed, when you feel the first embers of desire stirring and your greedy little hands begin to wander…that's when I'll be there.”

“What? What does that mean?!”

Tav received no answer.

“See you soon,” the devil cooed, and Tav was back with their alarmed companions, scrambling for an explanation. Eventually they managed to defuse the situation after they swore they hadn't signed anything and wouldn't sign anything, but in truth they weren't so sure anymore.

They tucked themselves away earlier than normal, when the sun began to sink beyond the horizon. In their thin sleeping clothes, beneath their scratchy blanket. Their small tent, far away enough for some privacy. They lay in their bedroll, listening to their friends talking and milling around without really hearing what they were saying. They were waiting for that sound, that smell. For the indication that the devil was making good on his promise, for whatever insidious purpose he had in mind. To say that Tav was nervous, fraught with anticipation, would be an understatement.

As time passed, as noises from the camp dwindled, Tav's nerves grew. Their eyes stung from staring at the canvas ceiling of their tent. They shifted, stretched their legs, certain that no one but they were awake. Yet the devil didn't appear.

Where are you, Raphael? They thought, too wired to stubbornly fall asleep and snub the fiend again. You said tonight…

He also said other things. Things in the dangerously smooth and terribly attractive voice that had got Tav in this situation in the first place. When your greedy little hands begin to wander… Tav knew, conceivably, what that meant. What Raphael wanted them to do. The question was…were they going to do it?

Little mouse…

He'd never called them that before. The way the syllables melted off his devilish tongue, that deep crooning purr and the implications of the pet name…Tav felt the warmth of arousal tingle and tighten in their belly. They squeezed their thighs together, feeling a brief shock of pleasure. Their body had grown used to nightly masturbation. Looked forward to it, even. Their hand habitually crept under the waistband of their trousers, fingertips brushing through soft curls to touch their sex. To stroke their fattening clit with their index finger, eyes half lidded. Little mouse, little mouse, little mouse…

“My, my…the taste of your unfurling desperation is almost divine…”

Inhaling sharply, Tav yanked their hand away. The devil was a looming shape in their tent, watching them. Tav hadn't heard him arrive.

“What do you want, Raphael?” They hissed.

“A show, of course,” the devil answered bluntly. “You didn't think I'd forgotten your appalling behaviour, did you?”

“You can't be serious…”

“Oh, but I am. After all, my time is precious, and you've wasted enough of it as is.”

“That's your excuse to act like a pervert?”

Raphael threw his head back and laughed. “You poor, naive thing. Perverted? Hardly. But if that's what you want, perhaps I'll wake your friends and have them watch their mighty, fearless leader tremble and sigh and fall apart to nothing but the sound of my voice…”

“You're despicable,” sneered Tav.

“Don't pretend you don't enjoy it,” the devil quipped, tilting his head. “I can smell your excitement…little mouse.” Tav clenched their jaw, trying to fight the shudder that rippled through their body. Raphael had growled those last two words, a spark of fiery orange in his eyes. Flexing his power over Tav. Basking in it. He inhaled deeply, rolling his shoulders “Now…I tire of this banal chatter, much as it excites you, droll as you can be. But fret not. We have far more interesting things to talk about…such as your dripping quim, and how you're going to touch it for me.”

Positioned like a leering gargoyle, Raphael began his instructions; rasping a lewd sermon, his scripture filthy, obscene cruel promises and commands.

“Take off your trousers and part your thighs, pet. Let me see your wanton caresses.”

Tav obeyed. How could they not? Wriggled free of their trousers and spread their knees to let Raphael see their damp curls, flush slick folds and swollen clit peeking from their hood. Hot, sticky flesh they stroked and rubbed to Raphael's throaty, self-satisfied croons.

“Look how wet you are. So desperate. All for the sound of my voice… of course, I can't fault you for your taste, but I wonder…each time you shooed me away, denied even my attempts at conversation…was it because you feared the thrill? Tried to deny it? Or because you longed to hide, to touch yourself to completion faster? Mmm…” The devil sounded like he was getting off, too. Tav bit back a gasp, thinking of him squeezing his thick erection through his clothes. Was it leaking? Did his balls ache, wanting to empty? It didn't matter that Tav knew his arousal wasn't for them, but for the swelling of his ego. They were thrilled all the same. They groaned, pelvic muscles clenching. Fresh slick spilled over their fingers. They dipped a fingertip into their entrance, swirled their clit and pinched it – until their hand was magically forced to stop. Raphael inhaled deeply, releasing a rich chuckle. “Oh, pet…I hope you don't think you're going to be finished already. No, no…you're going to tell me about every little fantasy that's passed through your simple mortal mind, every orgasm you've experienced thanks to me…every dirty thing you've wished I would say…and if I'm satisfied, I might consider letting you rut your pleasure to its peak.”

[jayaury]

Inn-Dulgence

Another from the archives! And as always, there's plenty more on my P*treon!

#

In some ways, it was the indignity of being caught that grated the most.

Julian Larnd grunted and tested the cuffs that held his arms behind his back once more, but the enchanted steel gave nothing, securing him to the thick support pillar. Damn damn damn! He should have realized the inn was in league with the cult. It was the perfect hiding place for members! But he’d had no indication their influence had spread so far.

He sighed, leaning back and banging his head with a dull thunk against the pillar. Not much of a cell, but secure enough. He glared ruefully at the dim bulks of barrels not far. He could still feel a faint muzziness from the drugged ale they’d given him, but it was dispersing now. There had to be a way out. There had to be! A Ranger of the Silver Bow didn’t just give up. There was a way out of this. He just had to think of it.

A creak of the door had him jerk upright, every sense keyed up. The door swung open at the top of the steps, and the barmaid from the evening before came in.

Seeing her once more, Julian realized ruefully how easily he’d been caught. Any man would have been distracted by the sight of the gorgeous woman. Especially her large breasts, held in her tight peasant bodice, though with a somewhat scandalously low cut. It took him an effort of will to look away from those plump orbs and to her face, which was hardly a loss. She was strikingly lovely in a hometown kind of way, her short red hair framing a pretty face with a small nose and sprinkling of freckles. A short skirt drew the eye to long legs and wide hips, which swung tantalisingly with her lazy stride.

Lizzie. That was the name she’d given him while serving his ale. He felt again a flush of annoyance at how shamelessly he’d flirted with her the night before, never suspecting the drink she served would be drugged.

But her allure hadn’t entirely vanished for him, testament to which was it took Julian a moment to notice the tray of bread and mug of water she carried.

“Hey there, sugar,” she said, shooting him a dazzling smile. “How goes it?”

“Oh, just great,” Julian said acidly. “I’m in raptures.”

She giggled, and Julian tried to ignore how his heart skipped at the sound. “You’re funny,” she said, placing the dish down in front of him. Yet she didn’t go at once, instead crouching before him, looking at him impishly.

Julian eyed her closely. She didn’t strike him as the sort that would be in deep with the cult. Too flighty. Those who summoned demons inevitably began to feel the corruption, becoming maddened as the power and influence of their demonic patrons infested them with their foul magics. She might be new to the cult. Which meant she might be his way out…

“Do you know what your fellow cultists are doing?” he said.

“Why don’t you tell me what they’re doing?” she said coyly.

He leaned forward. “Your ‘friends’ are seeking to feed mortal souls to demons!”

“Gosh! Is that right?” she giggled.

He shook his head. “I don’t think you understand the gravity of this,” he said. “Those whose souls are devoured by a demon soon lose any semblance of humanity. They become little more than mindless thralls, enraptured by the demon who devoured them.”

“Goodness!”

“And those are the lucky ones,” Julian growled, the thought making his blood fire with rage. “The unlucky ones are unable to offer even a token resistance. They give themselves eagerly to the demons, and as a result, are fed upon, transformed into creatures like their patrons. Monsters of cruelty and mindless obedience to the demon who devoured their essence.”

“Quite the expert, hm?” she said.

Julian snorted. “I should be. I kill them.”

“Didn’t do a good job this time, though, huh?”

Julian scowled, the reminder stinging, especially coming from such a pretty woman. “I… underestimated the cult,” he said. “But not again. If I could get free, I could banish the fiend and free its worshippers.”

“You’d do that?” she said.

“Of course!”

“Oh, but,” the redhead said, putting a coy finger to her pouting lips with thought. “What if the cultists didn’t wanna be free? What if they super duper love her?”

“They are deluded,” Julian said sharply. “Drawn to the demon by promises and the allure of the forbidden, and too late do many realize the depths of depravity they will be forced to plunge. Do you really want your friends to face such a fate? Your neighbours? To be little more than soulless, mindless puppets of a demon?”

“And if I let ya go, you could stop her?” the barmaid said, still with that teasing smile.

“Of course!”

“Even if she’s super duper pretty? What if she’s got cute horns and big, bouncy tits like these?”

Julian felt the muscles in his neck twitch as she hefted her breasts through her top. Heat rose in his face and he cleared his throat. “O-of course! Such things would not stay my blade.”

“But what if she’s got pretty golden eyes and is like, just tons of fun.”

“Yes, dammit!”

“But what if she looks like… this?”

Her eyes flashed a molten gold. Her teeth suddenly sharpened with a pair of small fangs. Her body grew, her clothes creaking under the sudden swell of her figure. Her chest tore the lacing of her blouse, her skirt ripping to rags against plump thighs. Her skin darkened, turning a lurid red, and twin horns curved back like those of a goat along her hair.

Julian jerked back, gasping as a scent of smoke and mint suddenly engulfed him. He swooned, but shook it off, squinting and glaring at the creature.

“You…”

“Aw, don’t be like that, honey!” Lizzie said with another blinding smile. “You look much cuter when ya smile. Just a cute, handsome slayer too dumb to see the demoness fawnin’ all over him. Not that you were complaining much.”

“B-bitch!” Julian snapped furiously, tugging at his bindings. “If I were free, I’d-”

“Oh sure. Sure,” she said with an airy wave. “You’d kill me. Slay me and send me back t’ the pit I’d spawned from. Which is super mean a ya, by the by. Because I love it up here! So much fun and pretty boys and girls just lookin’ for a good time. And why shouldn’t I give to them? They loooove it.”

“You are a monster!” Julian snapped. “A creature of darkness and sin.”

“Totes! But that’s what makes it so fun, right?” she said with a twinkle of a smile.

“But hey,” Lizzie continued, scooting closer, grinning wickedly at him. “I’m a fair girl. So tell you what I’ll do. I’ll undo your cuffs in five minutes.”

“You’re lying,” he growled.

“Nope! Cross my heart and hope to burn,” she said.

“Why the hell would you do that?” he demanded hotly.

“Well, so’s you can get those hands of yours on my big, bouncy tits of course,” Lizzie giggled, giving her breasts another bounce.

Julian choked on his rage, the sight making his mouth feel suddenly dry. He tore his eyes from the display and to her smiling face. “I’d sooner cut them off!”

“Nuh uh! You’ll want to touch them too bad. You’ll be desperate to bury that pretty face of yours between my honkin’ tits and just smother yourself like a good human. Just get yourself buried under my big, soft, titties! Just a naughty slayer. So I’ll totes do it!”

Julian tensed. “You’re mad and a liar, and we both know it.”

“No way! See? I swear it. Swear it on the Red Throne and the Black Crown.”

Julian gaped as she made a crossing gesture over her chest, and in the wake of her talon an X mark burned before it faded. An oath to the Throne and the Crown was unlike any other to a demon. To make it was to swear upon the name of the ruler of the hells themselves. It could not be broken by a creature of the infernal realms. To even try would invite a fate worse than mere death or pain.

“But… why?” Julian could only ask.

“Oh, that’s suuuuper simple,” Lizzie giggled as her hands lifted, dropped, bounced her bust before him. “Because I’m plum certain you can’t wait to kiss my big tits…”

Julian glowered, glaring at her, but found his eyes drawn once more to her breasts. To the way her hands pressed those pillowy crimson orbs together. The way they seemed almost to ripple with the bouncing motions.

Gods but those were fantastic breasts.

Not that Julian was an expert, of course. He’d always known that demons were at their best when tempting mortals with sins of the flesh, and thus he’d avoided such entrapping. Quite sensibly, of course. But even so, he felt certain that no woman he’d ever known had such… such perfect breasts. Breasts that seemed almost tailored to the motions. The ups and downs. The way they seemed to quiver as they dropped, nipples stiff and trembling when her bust landed atop her crossed arms.

“Ooooh, a real connoisseur of titties, aren’t you?” Lizzie crooned.

“I-I am not!” Julian snapped. “Such lewd displays cannot… It’s disgusting!”

“Oh you’re soooo right!” Lizzie giggled, her hands ceasing their bouncing motions, instead running over her plump orbs, stroking her titflesh, tracing the curve of her bust, her fingers swirling around the coal black of her areola. “Look at how evil my big breasts are. So naughty and sinful. So dumb and fat. And my nipples ‘r sooooo needy, ya know? Just awful, naughty things! And don’t they look all wrong without a pair of lips wrapped around them, huh? Without some cute, dumb, horny thrall just suckin’ and moanin’ like a tooootal tit slave.”

Julian felt his blush burn again. But somehow, he felt like… like she was right. Her nipples did look so… so lewd just being out there. They should be covered. And yes. A pair of lips sucking them would do that. A tongue teasing. Stroking. He wondered what she would taste like? Would it be minty? Like her perfume? Or something else? Something unique to her. Something he couldn’t even dream of.

Gods but his mouth was dry. His lips quivered and he licked them, trying not to, but not quite able to stop himself.

“Aw, what’s the matter? Still think my perfect tits are evil? Thinkin’ they’re soooo sinful and sooooo bad?” Lizzie cooed.

“O-of course!” Julian gasped.

“And you’re soooo right, sugar! But that’s what makes them fun,” Lizzie giggled as her fingers tweaked her nipples, wrenching a gasping moan from her. “Ohhh! My naughty nipples are soooo fun to play with. Humans just can’t get enough a sucklin’ on them like cute bimbos.”

“You enchant them,” Julian panted, his chest heaving. Gods, he was so hot. He could feel the heat of his body pulse through him like his veins were fire. “You… you use your… your demonic powers to… to…”

“Sure do,” Lizzia giggled. “I totes do. I use my naughty powers to make everyone fall in love with my perfect, bouncy tits! Not that it takes much. They’re all soooo ready to fall for them. Just desperate to become good, brainless bimbos for my bouncy tits.”

“I n-never would.”

“You suuuuure about that?” Lizzie teased.

Wasn’t he? Or was she trying to corrupt him now? It wouldn’t surprise him. She was a demon. But… but so what? He could resist her. Resist her big, bouncy tits. He wouldn’t let them bounce away his thoughts. Dumb his mind. And… and he only had to… had to last five minutes. He could last ten times that long. No big titted bimbo would… would get the best of him.

“Won’t get… turned,” he growled.

“Oooooh, of course you won’t, darlin’,” Lizzie giggled. “You’re soooo strong. My big, soft, bouncy tits can’t make you all silly. All dumb.”

“Y-yes. That’s… that’s right… Yeah,” Julian grunted.

“You’re soooo strong, Julian,” she giggled. “Sooo powerful. You can resist me so well. My big, soft, fat titties could never enthrall ya. You’re much too smart. Much too much ‘f a stud. Much too strong to become a mindless bimbo for my big tits…”

Julian scowled. She… she was teasing him. He knew that. Could feel it. But… but wasn’t she right? He was strong. Strong enough to resist her breasts. Her powers. He could do it. He was doing it.

Wasn’t he?

Yes. Yes, of course he was. He was resisting her. He knew it. He felt fine. A little light headed. Light and… and soft like her breasts. But that was to be expected. It was expected. It was fine. He was fine.

“Feeling dumb yet, handsome?” Lizzie cooed as her fingers squeezed her breasts together. “Feeling your thoughts getting’ all numb and floaty?”

“O-of course not.”

“Oh goooood!” she crooned, hefting her breasts, dropping them. “So goooood. You’re resistin’ me so wonderfully, sugar! I have noooo power over ya. My big tits are totally failin’ to make you fall for them.”

“Exact… exactly…”

“And whoops! It’s five minutes,” she said.

Julian blinked blankly, looked up to her smiling face. “Huh?” he said.

Clink.

Julian slowly brought his arms up from behind his back, looking in wonderment at his free hands. He raised his head to the succubus.

“Oops!” Lizzie giggled, still fondling and massaging her impressive chest. “Looks like ya won, stud! Awww. And now you can do whatever you want with me.”

Julian blinked vaguely. “I… yes. Wh-whatever…”

“Especially,” she said, scattering his thoughts anew, “since you’re clearly so powerful ‘nd tough. Soooo smart you easily resisted my big tits. You’re much too strong to get brainwashed even now. You could do just aaaaanything to me.”

He… he could, couldn’t he?

After all, he was resisting. He wasn’t enthralled. He was still fine. Perfectly fine. In fact, his head felt clearer than he could remember. He could do it. He was resisting her so easily now. He wasn’t even trying and she had no influence over him. He could do anything he wanted…

“Like bury your face between my big… bimbo… tits…” Lizzie crooned.

He found himself staring at them again. At those perfect breasts. Perfect and big. Perfect and soft. Yes. Yes, he could do that, couldn’t he? He had resisted her thus far. She hadn’t influenced his mind. He could bury his face between those flawless orbs. Feel how soft they no doubt were.

“Go on,” Lizzie crooned. “Just do it. I’m soooooo helpless, darlin’.”

Julian nodded slowly, never noticing his nodding head was timed to the bounce of her bust. He leaned forward, shuddering as he inhaled the sweet aroma of her perfume. That spiciness of mint. Closer. Closer. Her breasts filling his vision. His world.

He felt her hand on the back of his head, urging him further forward. He took a shuddering breath as his face was eased into the valley between her breasts, a whimper escaping him as those glorious orbs squished around his face. Soft as clouds. Out of this world...

“O-ohhhhh,” he moaned.

“Isn’t that niiiice?” Lizzie said, her voice dulled by the softness pressing against his ears, yet seeming to vibrate through her and into him. “Ain’t it so relaaaaxing being between my big, bouncy boobs? So easy to relax. And you can toooootally relax, right? You’re super strong and brave and all that stuff.”

He was, wasn’t he? Julian smirked to himself at how easily he had overcome the succubus. Such a simple thing. But that was why he was the hunter, and she the prey.

“Hey!” Lizzie giggled overhead. “I bet you’ve been wanting to kiss my big tits a whole bunch, huh? You could totally do that too! I can’t stop you at all. I’m already beaten by you. Just helpless before the big, strong hunter.”

Julian laughed to himself. She was so dumb! She still sounded like she was teasing him. But that was silly of her. She was utterly at his mercy. But he supposed he shouldn’t expect too much from a dumb bimbo like her.

But she was right about one thing. He could totally kiss her breasts. And he’d wanted to for so long. And why not? He was totally in control. Utterly in command. He chucked to himself and pressed his lips against her breasts. Once on each side. The taste tingled on his lips and tongue. He was right. She did taste a little minty. But again, there was something deeper beneath that spice of flavour. Something smoky and alluring. Attractive yet nameless.

“Ohhhh! That’s iiiiit!” Lizzie moaned, squeezing his head further into her bust. “Kiss my big tittes, mister big mean hunter. Lick my needy nipples! Oh gosh. Oh gosh, i’m sooooo totally at your mercy! Just a poor, dumb bimbo slut who can’t resist the big bad hunter!”

“That’s… that’s right,” Julian growled, his tongue feeling thick, his voice slurring as if with drink. But he’d gotten over the ale. He wasn’t drunk anymore. He was totally in control. He could do anything. She was his. His captive. His… his…

“Wanna fuck me?”

Julian lifted his face from between her breasts, staring at the smirking visage of the demoness. “Wh-what?”

Lizzie giggled, her hands touching his head, pressing him back into her breasts, his mouth and nose sandwiched in that blessed softness. “Wanna fuck me?” she purred. “Want to pound that big, manly cock into my pretty pink pussy? Wanna make me scream and beg for more? Wanna to really conquer me, pretty boy?”

Julian stared, his sluggish mind struggling. There… there was something… something wrong about that. Something bad. He could feel it on the tip of his tongue. It… it would feel good but… but…

“Y… you’ll drink my… my soul if I… if I do,” Julian finally managed to say.

“Noooo, silly!” Lizzie cooed, petting his head, smoothing back his hair and making his nose and cheeks bounce softly against her heavy titflesh. “That’d only happen if I’d beaten you! But who ever heard about a hunter who beat a succubus getting his soul drained? That never happens!”

That… that did sound right. It made sense. Didn’t it? It must. He’d always been warned that if a hunter lost, a succubus would inevitably fuck the soul out of him. But he’d never heard of triumphant hunters getting their soul drained. At least, he didn’t think so. Some detail about that was bothering him. But he was having a very hard time figuring out what that was as her breasts squished around his face. So soft. So warm. The scent of mint and the musky huskiness filling his nose and head with swirly fumes.

“Go for it, cutie,” Lizzie cooed, still stroking his head. Soothing his worries. “You deserve it.”

He did.

He did deserve it.

He’d bested the succubus.

He’d conquered her.

Resisted her.

He deserved some fun.

He deserved some pleasure.

He deserved to take what he wanted from this dumb, busty bimbo.

Yes.

Yes.

He deserved it all.

And he would take it.

He pushed her back, Lizzie gasping, then giggling as she fell to the floor. She gazed up at him, her cheeks flushed an even more lurid crimson. She opened her arms, and Julian didn’t even think twice before pushing forward. Kissing her hard. Fiercely. He felt her hand on his pants, tugging them open. His cock came out, throbbing, pulsing. Yes. Yes! He’d fuck this bitch. This fucking whore. This demonic slut. He’d show her!

“Ohhhhhh!” he groaned as he felt the tight heat of her pussy close around his cock. Squeeze his tender manhood. His body began to thrust, pounding his cock into her, the bouncy orbs of her breasts inches before his eyes, swaying with every frantic thrust into her.

“Yes!” Lizzie cried. “Yes! Fuck me! Make me cum! Tame me! Tame me with your big cock! Oh fuck. Fuck yes! Yes! Don’t stop! Ohhhh! Don’t stoooop! Make me cum! Make me your bitch! Cum in me! Cum for me! Cum for Lizzie!”

Julian panted, gasped, his head throbbing. Pounding. His body rocking as he furiously thrust into her with ever greater urgency. He had to cum. He needed to cum! He had to cum and finally show her… show her what he was made of!

And it was so good. So wonderful! Her pussy was like a perfect sleeve around him. Rippling around his cock. Warm and eager. Pulling him into her almost lovingly. Julian moaned and whined as he increased his pace. His orgasm was so near.

“Cum! Cum with me, pretty boy! Cum with mistress! Cum for meeeee! Ohhhhh!” Lizzie cried as her inner walls suddenly clamped around him, squeezing him.

And Julian came.

His orgasm surged through him like a great wave. It tingled from his toes and fingers, rushing through him and into his cock. He cried out, shuddering as he released inside her. As he spurted his hot load in her.

“Yesssss!” Lizzie groaned, shuddering as he came, her own orgasm seizing her in that glorious moment, her pussy milking him while her breasts heaved at the sudden intensity of orgasm. Her arms grabbed Julian’s head, pulled him into the cushions of her breasts.

Julian moaned, vertigo spinning him. He felt like he had been balancing on a precipice, and suddenly had toppled over. His eyes rolled back, weakness aching through him as his cock surrendered, spurting a last few times. Aftershocks robbing him of strength.

A sudden emptiness filled him. Julian groaned, his head lolling back between her breasts, looking up at Lizzie’s face.

The succubus smirked down at him, radiant. Not just radiant. Glorious. Her skin glowed softly, her eyes sparking with delight and malice, her lips lifted in amusement as she gazed down into Julian’s glassy eyes. Soulless eyes.

She pet the former hunter’s head, and her touch shuddered through Julian like white hot ecstasy. “Who’s my pretty bimbo pet?” Lizzie asked.

“M-meeee,” Julian droned, his jaw sagging in dumb obedience, entranced by the sight of the woman who had devoured his soul.

Lizzie giggled, pulling his head back between her soft breasts. “You know it, sugar! Ooooh, you’re gonna be such a good bimbo for mistress, ain’tcha? I can’t wait to show you off to the other girls.”

Julian glowed from her praise, blushed against her breasts. Yes. Yes, he couldn’t wait either. Couldn’t wait for mistress to do whatever she wanted. Couldn’t wait to show he was such a good bimbo for her.

He nuzzled her breasts, moaning as her pussy squeezed his tender cock once more. Yes. He was going to be a good thrall.

A good slave for mistress Lizzie…

[wzrd-wheezes]

Coffee, Cake and a Gossip - James Potter x Reader

AN - this is entirely based off of a scenario where my boyfriend took me for coffee and cake so we could gossip.

warnings: mentions of alcohol briefly but that’s about it. james potter loving a gossip

Y/N pushed the scrambled eggs around with her fork as she spoke, her eyes trained on the fading pattern of the plate as the words tumbled out of her mouth.

“-And it’s just like, I don’t know, I don’t know how many more times I have to tell her before it gets through.” she huffed, setting her fork down with a clatter, “I’m sorry. I know you probably don’t want to hear me moaning about my friend drama again.”

James laughed, taking a slurp of coffee from his mug, “You’re not moaning, my love.” he smiled, “You’re just venting and, in the nicest way possible, I am loving the drama.”

Y/N chuckled, looking up for the first time in a good few minutes. James was sat, patient as ever, staring lovingly at her as she recounted the events from the previous night.

“Yeah, I know but it must be getting old now,” she smiled weakly, standing up. She crossed the kitchen to scrape her plate clean before setting it in the sink.

Light on his feet, James appeared behind her, his big arms wrapping around her shoulders, his chin resting on the top of her head. He pressed a kiss to her temple, one hand sliding down to rest on her waist. He pushed the fabric of her pyjama top upwards, forever a fiend for skin on skin contact.

“I have an idea.” he mumbled into her hair.

“Yeah?” Y/N hummed in response, sudsing up the sponge and beginning to wash the pots from that morning’s breakfast.

“How about we go and get ready, then we can drive to a cute little cafe somewhere and we can go for coffee, cake and a gossip.” he spun her around so that she was facing him, taking her soapy hands in his, “Then, you can tell me all about your friend drama because, to be honest, ever since you went out with them last night I’ve been dying to hear about what happened.”

“Really?” Y/N slipped her hands from his and wiped them dry on a tea towel that was tucked into a drawer, “You’re sure that you actually-”

“Baby. I cannot explain to you how much I would love to hear it. Besides, I’m a sucker for a little sweet treat.” He grinned, “Why don’t you go and get ready and I’ll finish cleaning up down here, yeah?”

James drove them to a café on the outskirts of their town. It was a quiet little place where sunlight streamed in through the windows and the walls were adorned with quirky paintings. Y/N went to find a table while James ordered. She found them a spot tucked away in the corner, two overstuffed armchairs and a small table between them.

Their coffee was served in mismatched mugs, steam rising from the surface as James set them down on the scrubbed wooden table. He disappeared for a moment and returned with two large slices of cake.

“I didn’t know which to get so I just got a slice of each and thought we could share.” he explained, hacking into a slice with his fork.

“Good thinking.” Y/N smiled, picking up the hot mug and clasping it in her hands.

“Okay. Coffee and sweet treats acquired… time to gossip.” he wiped the crumbs from his lips and turned to face her properly, giving her his full attention.

“So, obviously I haven’t seen the girls for a while, y’know, with us all working and whatnot,” Y/N began. She picked up a sugar cube from the bowl and dropped into into her coffee with a plop, “And I thought it would be nice for us all to go for a drink somewhere so I booked us in at this cute little wine bar in town.”

“Ooh, was it good? We should go there next date night.”

“It was so good! We get there and we all get our drinks and one of the girls says that Alice is running late and I’m like, ‘okay no worries’,” she stopped for a moment to take a bite of cake before continuing, “And you’ll never guess what…!”

“What?” James leaned forward in anticipation, his elbows resting on his knees.

“She turns up an hour late with Jackson.”

“She never!” James gasped, “But it was girls night!?”

“I know!” Y/N huffed. She swilled the coffee around in her mug before taking a swig.

“Wait.” James held a finger up, “Wasn’t Jackson the one that cheated on her?”

“Yes!”

“Wow.” James let out a bemused laugh, “No wonder you’re annoyed.”

“It’s just so frustrating.” Y/N sighed through a mouthful of spongecake, “No matter how many times we tell her he’s a piece of shit she won’t listen.”

“Well, not everyone can have boyfriends as lovely as yours.” James teased, slipping the last bite of cake onto her plate.

“Very true.”

“So, what did you say to her when Jackson turned up?”. he pressed, his eyes twinkling.

[peachsukii]

REI! I almost forgot that it was Softie Sunday, I would have been so upset if I had missed it because I have been stewing over this for DAYS.

Bakugou loves to tease you. Sometimes, you get all frustrated and then flustered when you realize he's just messing with you and he thinks it is the cutest thing ever. And other times, you burst into laughter and it just makes him fall for you even harder.

You'll be trying to reach the cereal box on the top shelf, dancing on your tiptoes as your fingertips barely graze the taunting box.

He'll walk into the kitchen, grin when he sees you struggling to reach the box and come over to you, feigning assistance before pushing the box further out of your reach.

He can't help the burly laugh that's forced up his throat when he looks down to see your cheeks puffed out like an angry hamster, your brows knitted together at him in frustration.

"Kaatsukkiiiii." You whine up at him, throwing your head back in exasperation like a child, not getting what they want. You want to be mad, but he's so gorgeous smiling down at you as he soaks in your cuteness.

Other times, you'll be bantering about something and when you actually make a decent point, he'll start to mimic you, talking in a high pitched voice, bobbing his head in an attempt to imitate your sassy body language.

You'll stare at him with an unamused expression(😑) which causes him to chortle before he presses a kiss to your forehead, muttering against your temple, " 'm just teasin' you, Peach."

His favorite is when he makes you so frustrated over something so stupid that you both start to giggle at the ridiculousness until you are both in stitches of laughter.

He had put the cream back in the refrigerator, not realizing that you going to use it. You're all in a huff, reopening the fridge to get it, only to melt when he grabs your coffee mug off of the counter, steadily holding it for you to add the cream to.

As soon as you open the container and begin to tilt the carton toward the opening of the mug, he slightly moves the mug out from under the spout of the container, causing you to nearly spill it on the floor.

You begin to giggle, "Katsuki, this is battle neither of us will win." He's grinning like a fiend at this point, loving the way you're trying to suppress your laughter. When you try once again to pour the cream into the mug, he moves it again.

You're shaking with laughter at this point, completely giving up and setting the cream down on the counter. Katsuki laughs with you, setting your mug down on the countertop, watching, waiting for the moment you to decide it was safe to try again.

Playfully narrowing your eyes at him, you pull the mug closer to you. Once again, you pick up the carton and begin to tilt the opening toward the lip of mug, only for Katsuki to gently grab the handle of the mug between his thumb and index finger, slowly pulling it away from you, watching with tears of laughter wetting the corners of his eyes as your pad after the mug sliding away from on the counter, chasing it with the container of cream like a little goblin.

Once he reaches the end of the counter, he lets you have it, snorting as he throws back in head in laughter as you laugh, "Aha!!" in victory, which you both stand there, laughing so hard your bending over to clutch your stomach.

He is just so incredibly in love with you and he loves that you let him mess with you regularly so that he can continue to prove it so because he doesn't mess with anyone like that. Just you.

Pastel, I’ve read this like six times and it makes me so damn smiley!!!! Especially “I’m just teasin’ you, Peach.” 🥺🥹😭🧡💖💜

((This happens in my household daily as well 😂))

I adore that he does it just to make us laugh, to be silly and stupid. Ending up laughing over stupid things together is my favorite thing and I’m gonna cherish this thought forever. 🥰💖

『 #reis softie sundays 』

[eliysian]

simon doesnt like hot chocolate!

FIRM BELIEVER IN THISSS.

Ghost is practically a fiend over tea, to the point where any other drink just disgusts him. So, when wintertime rolls around and TF141 is sipping on their hot chocolate, he can't help but feel a lil left out! So, the next best option? Tea. Peppermint tea. Where he stands idly in the doorframe, leaning against it with his mask pulled up just above his nose as he sips it. Pulled it back down his face as Soap cranes his neck to stare up at him with a scrunched up nose, “Hell are yu’ drinkin?” Ghost would tip his hand up just slightly, “Tea,” he paused, “Peppermint.” Only for Soap to furrow his brows and chortle, directing his gaze elsewhere with a smirk. “Smells like shit.” “Oh fuck off,” Ghost groaned, earning a low chuckle from Price and a smile from Gaz. — Simon also uses it as a way to introduce you to tea, since you weren’t as fond of it as him. You’d be finishing your mug of hot chocolate, setting it aside as the minty-peppermint smell invades your nose from beside you. You’d lean over, getting a better whiff of it as his eyes catch onto yours. “Y’wanna try it?” He murmurs, holding it out to you. Taking it from his grasp, you place it to your lips and take a small sip, savoring the bitter taste. You hand it back and hum, “S’okay.” You taking sips from his cup quickly turn to you brewing it in the morning for the two of you, attempting to make it quietly but always waking up your sleeping boyfriend because he doesn’t feel your warmth in his arms anymore :( It’s okay though because he always walks softly through the halls, following the hissing of the kettle and wrapping his arms around your torso, nuzzling his face into the side of your temple, pressing lazy kisses to it. He rasps out a ‘good morning’ into your ear, lightly leaning his body forward to get closer to you as he tries to fully wake up. And once he does, you can feel that little smile against your head and that little rumble in his chest as he chuckles. “Knew you’d like the tea, lovie..”

[dadsbongos]

i loved that denji one ty 😝🤘u said u've been wanting to write for him? ur in luck cuz i can only think about him 😎😎

how about (fem) reader is sick or something and denji's there to take care of her but like he sucks at it and he doesnt know the fever temps (cuz that'd be pretty funny)

or switched and reader takes care of sick denji :)

ok i know... i know you said him being bad at it is funny... but i think aki having forced him to become a good nurse is sillier

645 words -- not proofread :/

~~~

“I knew you were hot,” Denji wiggles the thermometer in front of your sweaty face, grinning despite the miserable downturn of your lips.

“Denji.”

“Sorry,” he huffs, studying the dial again and sucking air through his jagged teeth, “This is shit, though. You’re boiling.”

You nod sluggishly, “I know, Denji.”

“That’s seriously bad.”

“I know, Denji.”

He frowns, bending down to wring a towel through cool water before laying it over your forehead. Smoothing down the cloth just because he feels useless otherwise. Denji gnaws his bottom lip as he thinks, sitting on the edge of your bed to hold your clammy hand.

“Do you want soup?” he murmurs unsurely, watching you wince and swallow hard before nodding slowly. With a new and apparent objective in mind, Denji beams down at you before rushing off, “Okay!”

Soon after, he returns with an off-white bowl shaking in his hands before sitting beside you again on the bed. You blink up at him with crinkly, boogery eyes and croak out desperately, “...chicken noodle?”

“Chicken noodle,” Denji nods surely, spooning soup up and into your mouth, “I tried not to make the broth too hate.”

“Thanks, Denji.”

“‘Cuz if I burned your tongue I think I’d skin my hand.”

You chuckle weakly, sputtering phlegm and wheezing as you do before soothing a hand over your chest, “Thanks, Denji.”

“Yeah, ‘course,” he happily feeds you more soup, feeling his whole body go lighter and lighter the longer you go eating his food without throwing it up. He knows it’s a little strange, but he remembers eating all of Aki’s cooking because he wanted Aki to know he appreciated it -- and he prays now that you might have the same motivation.

“Tea,” you’re mostly mouthing the word, desperate to avoid harsh scratching against the sore spot in the back of your throat. 

“Tea!” he hugs the emptied bowl to his chest (still getting the drippy remnants of chicken noodle soup on his shirt), prepared to rush out of your shared bedroom before pausing, “With honey, right?”

You nod sluggishly, yawning into the open air.

Denji’s eyes light up excitedly, “Lots of honey, right?”

Again, you nod. More so to entertain Denji than anything.

When he returns, it's with a steaming mug and a spoon in his mouth. You point at the spoon with a shaky finger and he speaks clumsily around it, “Honey!” he plucks out the spoon and lays it in his lap when he sits to avoid setting it on your nice dresser. Then he hands the warm mug to you, “And honey here, for my honey.”

You grimace playfully, rasping a “corny”, before blowing into the tea and sipping. 

“‘s true,” he wants to lay down with you, but you’d whack him upright -- too stacked with preemptive guilt of spreading germs onto Denji to let him cuddle you. 

“My neck feels slimy…”

“Shit,” he feels over the folded cloth on your head, “It’s warm!” he dips his fingertips into the large bowl of water he kept to re-moisten the cloth, “Warm!”

Denji runs off to the bathroom and soaks the cloth in cold water to slick over your feverish forehead before refilling the water bowl. Your heavy eyes follow him through the doorways, he stumbles and his hands are unsteady but he’s helpful. You’re sure Aki whipped him into shape on one of his rare sick days. Then, the thought of Power strikes and you’re almost giggling aloud -- what a nightmare that Fiend would be if she got ill.

“Back!” Denji cheers, settling the bowl down and stirring a single finger through the iced water, “Nice and cold for ya. If you overheated that’d be bad.”

“I know, Denji.”

“‘Cuz I don’t want you sick anymore,” he pouts.

Soothed by good humor, you smile genuinely and wave off his worry, “I know, Denji.”