#now I get to use all the ridiculous gifs

[hirazuki]

Me, episode 1: Oh, a relatable protag! And a relatable female protag, at that. Sweet! That never happens.

Me, a few episodes in: Wait, the protag really is going to be my character? The one I identify with the most? Seriously? It's not going to be a strange, at least somewhat sinister, seemingly hostile male side character? It's gonna be a female character and the protagonist? That's insane, that literally never happens... what's the catch??

Me, more than halfway through the season: ... huh, I guess Maomao really is it. Okay, then ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Me to myself, after episodes 22/23:

[southerngothicaf]

Why am I consistently right and yet every time I give advice my friends argue with me

[anantaru]

⚝ DAY 3 — LINGERIE

kinktober 2024. — masterlist | ao3

— including. — kazuha, scaramouche, kinich, alhaitham

— warnings. — fem! reader, fingering/scissoring, lots of teasing, alhaitham is the teasing master in this, hot and bothered genshin boys

⚝ — KAZUHA

"do i look good in this?"

good— was an understatement, and kazuha's breath stays stuck in his throat when he sees you in that dainty, little lace, his eyes widening in awe, admiring your magnificence.

the world around him seems to fade, leaving only you bathed in the soft glow of candlelight and frail garments hugging the curves of your body, "you’re… breathtaking," he whispers, his tone of choice an octave lower.

your fingers reach out to guide him, trembling slightly as his digits trace along the intricate patterns of the fabric— every touch was reverent, his fingertips brushing over the sheer bra exposing your erected nipples to him—fuck, it's as though he can’t decide which was more captivating.

"i can’t believe you’re real," he laughs and brushes away the loose hair strands sticking on his forehead, his eyes never leaving yours.

he pulls himself on top of you before placing his palm on your breast, "so beautiful…" kazuha continues, his glossy lips ghosting over your collarbone, his teeth grazing at the sensitive skin on your neck until he’s certain that there's a little hickey there as you twist and curl underneath him, voicelessly telling him to just touch you already.

and here he was now, in fact, he cannot stop touching you, each caress lingering as though to forevermore memorize the feel of you under his hands.

he slips his digits through the flimsy waistband of your underwear as your walls instantly flex and pulse around his fingers when he inserts them knuckles deep— only one, then after pressing it in and out for about three times, he add another, continuously sinking them into you as he smears harsh circles into your clit to multiply the sensation he's about to give you all night.

⚝ — SCARAMOUCHE

you’re so soft above scaramouche and it only spurs him on, especially with those graceful garments daintily squeezing your frame.

his tongue licks across his bottom lip when he pulls his fingers through the panties to scissor his digits inside your walls, playing with those searing spots he knew got you trembling, got you to beg for more. you're curling into him, squeezing yourself so close for him to add a couple kisses on your throat.

the volume of your voice increases each time scaramouche would find another compliment befitting of the new set of lingerie he's bought you— the wider his smirk gets, the more it means you're squeezing his fingers harder, "just like that, you look so good in this, picked it right for you, yeah?"

you eagerly nod as he feels your warmth clamping when he begins to scissor you, pumping his slender fingers in and out before adding the third.

well, lets be honest here, in the beginning he thought to himself on how ridiculous it must be for him to buy you something like that and he almost went back to return the costly good, yet now? wow, how fucking thankful he was to himself that he didn't.

⚝ — KINICH

"gimme a spin, yeah? like that," kinich smirks as you twirl around the newest set of lingerie, a deep red that hugged around the curves of your breasts and leaves almost no fabric left on your bottom.

and those thigh highs you added on, they made him feel like he's about to absolutely ravish you. kinich's not used to being at a loss for words, well, he keeps himself silent on purpose but with you? seeing you like this he thought he could say something other than look at you like a man who's never seen a woman before.

he was too drunk on the sight and so fucking hard already, feeling a twitch inside his boxers when you kneel down to press a harsh kiss on his bulge, looking up at him through doe eyes— and the next almost cruel throb in his shorts was to die for— this is making him lose his mind. you are.

he bites down on his tongue, his hips rolling into your palm with your lips hovering over the length. palming the front of his trousers, your face slants forward to smear your saliva across his lower abdomen so you'd be perfectly bend across him, making it fairly easy for kinich to watch your pretty ass and your folds barely being covered by anything but a fine silken line.

⚝ — ALHAITHAM

alhaitham's eyes barely flicker up from his book when you step into the room, though there’s a telltale tension in the way his grip tightens on the pages. he acts disinterested, you ponder if that book in his hands had a soul catching story for him to be this way— but you can feel the weight of his gaze when he thinks you aren’t looking.

"sit," he bluntly says, his voice commanding and motioning to his bulgy thigh, but he speaks in a way as though your appearance in such delicate lingerie wasn't affected him— although when you ultimately settle on his lap, he doesn’t miss a beat, his hand immediately reaching to the hem of your lace.

"read the next page for me, think you can do that?" he orders, though there’s a slight edge to his voice that betrays his focus, it's no longer on the book, but on your cute tits and sheer bra prancing with your lovely nipples.

you gulp down, adjusting your seat on his lap as you begin to read while he began to trace lazy patterns along the fabric, his fingertips brushing lightly over the lace, teasing and coaxing out needy shivers from your spine.

so well, his eyes stay fixed on the book, but his hand grows bolder, slipping beneath the edge of the lingerie, feeling your bare skin, "you’re really distracting, you know that?" he mutters, though his smirk says otherwise, "i was only planning to read this book but now—"

there’s a tension in the air, a game he’s playing where he pretends the book holds his attention — but in reality, all he was focused on was you.

day and night, no matter what you'd wear.

his sensitive length twitches against your thigh as your hole squeezes around nothing, your lips exhaling a stutter before he lets his hands squeeze your thighs— your jaw slack in surprise at how bold he began to be, now digging hard between your legs to press into your clit and rub it— his cloudy, bloodshot gaze focused on the pulsing, little pearl getting all the more roused the more he flicked it back and forth.

"i never said you should stop reading," he adds on, "already done for the day, hm? you tired?" a little too nonchalant for your liking.

you pout through your dreamy, lustful expression before you're letting your hand smooth through his hair, lightly pecking his forehead, "fine, but I'm sensitive there alhaitham, be careful."

© 2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[blkkizzat]

@ 𝙭𝙓𝘿𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙂𝙤𝙙69𝙓𝙭 𝙞𝙣𝙫𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮...

AND GOD KNOWS I'M TRYIN', BUT THERE'S JUST NO USE IN DENYING... ❤︎︎︎︎ THE OTAKU IS MINE ❤︎︎

⏯︎︎ OTAKU!GOJO X BIMBO!READER SERIES

bunny, how on earth did you end up dating this huge otaku nerd? urgh, you actually like him and match his freak too? and he buys you what?! omg! what will your friends think?!

⏯︎︎ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘

𖦏 genre: college au

𖦏 ratings: 18+MDNI. unprotected, ecchi gojo, dubcon, cnc, bdsm, puppy play, public sex, creampies, spanking, sugar daddy/baby dynamics, edging, squirting, threesums, femdom, the ridiculous ass pervy pet names gojo gives you & reader is called 'bunny' in lieu of 'y/n'. each story will have warnings on its story page.

𖦏 pre register: comment to be tagged. i may not respond to everyone but rest assured if you comment you will be tagged!

𖦏 gamer's guide: all fics are listed in chronological order, but likely won't be written in chronological order. summaries subject to change slightly. they also will be written over time so please don't rush me for the next installment but feel free to ask me questions i love talking about this lil freak❤︎︎

⏯︎︎ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘:

𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝟏: ❝ DIGIMON—BUT MAKING U CUM IS MY REAL HOBBY! ❞

𖦏 your best friend gojo is a hopeless otaku virgin with zero rizz that's still obsessed with digimon—despite being a grown ass man. you're a slut who despite her best whoring efforts—can't cum. you'll take his v-card and he'll fix your broken pussy, deal? ⏯︎︎ plays: 13.3k

𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝟐: ❝ STICKS N' STONES MAY BREAK MY BONES BUT CHAINS N' WHIPS EXCITE ME! ❞

𖦏 so now that you have a filthy rich boyfie who is completely obsessed with you and has moved you into his house, you're winning, right? or you will be at least— if can survive a trip to the sex dungeon. don't worry it's professionally sanitized after each use! ...what? that's not what you're worried about? oh... ⏯︎︎ plays: lvl in-progress

𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝟑: ❝ AND ALL OF THAT WAS OKAY, CAUSE IT WAS IN A 3-WAY!❞

𖦏 the three of you: you, gojo and geto are like peas in a pod, especially since its summer! and if two of you start f*cking in that pod well its only natural that the third want to join in, right? besides, you both already want to f*ck him. just make sure your current boyfie doesn't get too jealous from how hard you are moaning on your other besties' joystick. your only his ecchi angel, remember? ⏯︎︎ plays: lvl in-progress

𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝟒: ❝ IN THE BEDROOM I BE SCREAMIN', BUT OUTSIDE I KEEP IT QUIET—OR TRY TO AT LEAST!❞

𖦏 you can only keep your relationship underwraps from the rest of your friend group for so long. but you need to ease them into the idea first! although, when there's a yacht party for nanami's bday how is your uber clingy otaku boyfie supposed to keep his hands off of you when you're looking like the most perfect pervy princess in that itty bitty swimsuit? ⏯︎︎ plays: lvl in-progress

𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝟓: ❝ YEAH, HE MY MAN, HE WAS NEVER YO TYPE! ❞

𖦏 school is back! thankfully you somehow manage to instill some kind of decency into your otaku boyfie over the summer so he can come across as normal enough to make his own friends. but did you do too good of a job? wait, he actually has a lil rizz now? you mean you aren't the only girl attracted to him anymore... hol'up! ⏯︎︎ plays: lvl in-progress

𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝟔: ❝ MOVE IT UP, DOWN, LEFT, RIGHT, OH—SWITCH IT UP LIKE NINTENDO! ❞

𖦏 hey, when did you become freaker than your otaku boyfie? so he caught you touching yourself to his femdom p0rn when he came back early from a business trip? yikes! now he wants to try it out with you? don't worry you will do a great job training your new play puppy boyfie! ⏯︎︎ plays: lvl in-progress

⏯︎︎ 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒:

𖦏 soundtrack: [ x ] 𖦏 moodboards: [ lvl 1 ] 𖦏 amazing art by amazing readers: [ x ] 𖦏 faq/thirsts: [ x ]

©𝐛𝐥𝐤𝐤𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐚𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐟𝐱, 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞.︎︎

[nemesyaaa]

rafe cameron x sleepy!reader

summary : you were just the sleepiest girl of the town. (kinda sweet smutty prompt / etablished relationship. soft! boyfriend!rafe.)

warnings : except smut, nothing much. bad sleeping shedule.

author's note : /.

“ I’m fucking tired.” you yawned as you entered the room. since the beginning of the evening, you had only been looking forward to getting back to the soft comfort of your bed.

you couldn't help but become sleepy, which meant letting your boyfriend take care of you because you were unable to stay awake. you never needed to be careful because rafe cameron always had his eyes on you. and as long as you were next to him, as long as he could feel you even if you were dead asleep and drooling over his chest, he allowed you to take a nap on his lap for hours. it was one of your few privileges.

something he didn't allow was people waking you up. if it he had to shut down every fucking noisy kook in a room to let you sleep, he would do it. it was his own version of let me burn the world for you but in a better way, more like let me quit this entire world for you.

you loved these moments of calm and peace when you slept wearing only one of his t-shirts acting like a dress around your naked body, and white high socks.

rafe was spooning you while you were already falling asleep, the reassuring and warm feeling of his cold fingers slipping under your t-shirt, his large hands covering the flesh of your waist , letting his strong arms gently slowly pulling you towards him. the shushing sound of his lips hovering your neck as you were dragged by his thick fingers. your barely covered body lazily comes closer, as soft breaths break the silence of your mouth, quickly followed by the sleepy whines of your tall boyfriend that holds his grip tighter in your hips, making sure you can't go anywhere, even if you were in a deep sleep.

you had a complicated relationship with your sleep schedule because you were sleeping both too much and not enough at the same. you could be fully awake at 5am but literally dead asleep at 12pm. for the simple reason that you were not sleeping at the right time, nor at the right hour, nor in the right place. you were one of those sleepiest girls who would disappear for hours not because you were going out on the town with friends or even stepping foot outside, but because you would sleep for hours on end.

you told rafe that you were just closing your eyes to take a nap but you ended up waking up in the evening.

when you woke up, you were completely lost and disorganized but above all so tired. it was almost ridiculous. your boyfriend was now used to your eyes half-closed, your hair completely messed up and across your exhausted face, drool on the corner of your lip with that oh-so-stupid expression.

he lay down on the bed, while you looked at him with wide opened eyes. at this point, you weren't even sure you recognized your own boyfriend. “ rafe ? ”

“still asleep, babe? "

his voice was usually low, while he brushed away the trail of drool that was leaking from your mouth with his thumb. you nodded, and he smiled. “ such a baby. ”

you were a terrible temptation. he could have fucked you while you were sleeping. and maybe that was even what you wanted sometimes when you slept so scantily dressed, leaving your tiny thong in full view while you lay on your back, legs unconsciously spread.

“let me help you…” he whispered as he flipped you onto the bed, pushing your thighs apart to make himself a place. he had pulled down his boxers without removing them completely, before forcing your legs open with one hand. "fucking wet. i bet you dreamed about that dick inside you."

the smirk on his face was pretty charming and sick, and he pushed the fat tip of his cock against your soaked slit, before making morning slaps on your little glistening cunt. his length was so hard, hitting your sensitive bud. the plushy mushroom getting glossy from your weeping hole. he looked at you, holding his dick in a hand with your wetness dripping from the shaft, as you had a hard times focusing on his movements but he squeezed your cheeks on his hands, pulling your face closer to him. “ get that mouth open, want to be able to spit on it whenever i want. ”

it was also a pretty excuse for him to force you to keep your eyes open. when he first pushed in with a hard thrust that literally arched all your body, you screamed out of pleasure and pain. he didn't wait before starting working his dick faster in your swollen cunt. you always take him so good, and he can't help but pound you even deeper every time he hears your sleepily voice moaning softly, the whining getting louder and bigger as he stretches you open. you were too good, a forbidden pleasure for sure, your sloppy pussy fully soaked him.

little by little, you begin to be fully awake, eyes filled with shining tears. you were a mess that was crying and panting from the roughness of your boyfriend, crybaby whines begging for rafe’s attention. your mouth getting muffled by his, he shushed you through the kiss, heavy breath and drool falling between your lips. “ s-s-slow down ! ” you cried out.

he mocked you gently, answering with a wicked smile. “ what about faster ? thought that's what you wanted ? ”he was still fucking you, but now a hand reached your throat, as the thickness of his length stuffed the inside of your walls, hitting all the spots. “ r-rafe. ” you exploded.

you were shaking, gasping for air and throbbing, eyes still locked in rafe's gaze while you lost your mind, thinking of how deep he was inside you. your cunt still twitching around his cock, making you unable to catch your breath and literally choking against the hand pressed on your throat. you were already tired, the inner of your thighs dripping with arousal and legs breaking with each thrusts. and those massive orgasms didn't help. his face was now sweaty from the heat and the sex, hot breaths escaping his lips and absolutely no sign of exhaustion. he could fuck you to death. and you wish you could reach this level but you were already too drained by the fast back and forth. “ this is how i should wake up my sleepy girl every morning. don't you think ? ”

he finally managed to cum, spilling thicks of loads inside you. your head failing in the bed as he slowly pulled his dick out, before pushing it into your mouth. the sight of your tongue licking every single drop of juice left him even horny, your pretty lips weeped with cum and wetness, that he smeared with the tip of his cock, before letting you clean everything.

“ it was not a fuck, it was an attempted murder. ” you told him.

“ don't inspire me for round 2, you will regret it. ”

“ don't complain me about why i sleep this much when you fucking me like that. ”

“ i'm fucking tired…” you said, a little yawn leaving your mouth as rafe and you entering the room after a living pool party, were you literally rested on your boyfriend’s lap during all the event, falling asleep on his shoulder as he was still talking with his friends.

he was now used to since he dated you from a long moment. he was now able to take care of you every time you fell asleep. as always, there was no warning. you could be smiling, living the party, it doesn't mean you were not sleepy. He sometimes complained about how much you slept, but at the same time, how much you didn't get enough sleep.

“ no shit. you were literally drooling over me. ” he said sarcastically. “ lift your arms. ” he commanded, before helping you remove your dress.

he almost passed out when your breasts literally bounced out of your bra as your arms leaned down, his dick slightly growing and forming a bulge inside his pants. but damn, it was not the moments because he knows for sure that you will now fall asleep. AGAIN.

“ do you think topper is mad at me for sleeping at his birthday’s party ? ”

“ do i look like the type of boyfriend that i care about what another man is feeling about my girlfriend ? because, i'm not. ”

“ it was rude…. it's his birthday ! ”

“ babe, i could even fuck you right in front of him that he wouldn't even care or remarks. don't you see how he was just drooling like a dog because of my sister ? ”

“ maybe, i should call…”

rafe had raised an eyebrow, his jaw twitching slightly as you pulled on one of his t-shirts. “ since when do you have topper’s number ? ”

“I mean with your phone. Why would I have his number. Anyways, i'm sorry for this…it's pretty embarrassing. ”

“ What about looking me in the eyes if you at least want me to believe you about your apologies?”

“ Don't fight me right now, i'm tired.”

“ And actually, when you're not ? ” he mocked, and you finally looked at him.

“ When i'm sleeping, it's obvious. ”

“ You forget when i fuck you’. It doesn't seems like you're very tired. ”

after showering and brushing your teeths, you moved to your favorite place in the world — your bed. you loved the clean of the sheets. you covered yourself with the blanket, dropping only your head out.

when rafe appareaded, you couldn't help but stare at his perfect body. you followed his moves, lurking to the good and big shape of his biceps, the well-sculpted ridges of his abs, the visible v-line curved on his hips. “ don't look at me like that. ” he warned.

“ then i will look at someone else. ”

“ funny. ” he said, chuckling without smiling. “ that you think i will let you do such a thing. but keep daydreaming. ”

“ no need to be jealous. there is no kooks better than you. ”

“ does it mean there are pogues better than me ? ”

you sighed, shaking your head and crossing your arms.

“ i don't even hang out with pogues ! don't take it in the wrong way. what about watching a good movie before sleeping ? ”

“ be serious. i know you well, you're gonna fall asleep before the movie even starts. ”

“ no ! i'm fully awake. ”

“ which movies do you want to watch ? and there is no way i'm gonna watch that fucking film with a black cat and a ladybug. ”

“ then what about five nights at Freddy's ? ”

“ sounds better. ” he simply said, while typing on the dashboard.

your gaze leaned down on his ringed fingers, fast and thick. your slowly opened your lips, imagining how much they can stretch your mouth, leaving her with a pool of drool from how wet they're from your saliva. but also, how much they will manage to keep your mouth open without effort.

a sparkle shone in your eyes, and you wrapped your arm around rafe's one, making him look without really giving you full attention. “ what you want ? ”

“ nothing. did you find the movie ? ”

“ you like horror movies ? ”

“ no, i like josh. ”

“ bet he died at the end of the movie. ”

“ rafe ! ”

“ yea, keep crying. ”

he started the movie but you were very sleepy. again. you forced yourself to keep your eyes open but it was really hard. you blinked so many times to fight the urge of sleeping, but you're finally falling asleep.

rafe didn't stopped the movie because he was now too invested in it, but let your head rest against his naked chest, stroking your hair gently.

at the beginning of your relationship, it was so new for him to be this close to a person, to reach this type of intimacy but now he was craving for it, finding peace and comfort.

you were his sleepy girlfriend that was now sleeping over him, but will probably wake up in five hours when he will be dead asleep while, you will be looking for a nocturnal activity, trying to not wake him up.

sometimes, and a lot of times, you have sleepless nights that make you even more tired, and fall asleep early or late in the morning. you could feel though the sleep, rafe's arm loosening around your body as he manages to leave the bed to start the day while you just catching your night.

“ good morning, rafe. ”

“ it's 7pm. ”

“ ... ”

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ speak of the devil

synopsis. satoru and his father don’t quite get along—you don’t think it would help that case if his father walked in on you fucking on his desk right now, but satoru doesn’t seem to care at all

FIVE PLACES RB! GOJO SHOULDN’T FUCK YOU SERIES

length. 3.4k words (why did it take all day sobs)

contents. fem! reader, minors do not interact, college au, rich boy! gojo, as always it’s shameless satoru, you sit on satoru’s lap, brief fingering, dry humping, desk sex <3, clothed sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, perfect girl)

notes. to everyone who kept asking when i was gonna update this series: here it is. now don’t ask again <3

the one time you decide to surprise satoru with a visit is the one time he’s nowhere to be found—it takes you ten minutes and the help of two maids to finally find satoru in his house. as it turns out, he’s in his father’s office—the only room you’ve never been in yet.

“hey,” you murmur, “been looking for you everywhere. way to ruin my surprise.”

“baby!” he grins, perking up from his spot at the chair, setting the pen in his hand down. “you came all the way here to surprise me? you must love me so much. and think i’m hot too, right? and funny? and smart? and—”

“i’m leaving,” you tease, rolling your eyes. and then you notice the papers in front of him, peeking over his shoulder as you read over them. you understand nothing. “what’s this?”

“paperwork,” he grumbles, “old man says i have to start being more responsible for stuff if i’m gonna take over someday. what a geezer.”

you snort—satoru never runs out of insults for his father. normally, you wouldn’t encourage his comments, but….well, his father deserves them. quite a bit, in fact.

“my poor businessman,” you say sympathetically, smoothing back hair from his forehead as you cup his face. he pouts, leaning into your touch as you rub over the swell of his cheek with your thumb. “you deserve a break.”

“i know,” he whines, “i’ve been doing these for like an hour. i could’ve been playing video games with suguru. or fucking you.”

“satoru!” you gasp, pressing a hand over his lips as you eye the door and listen for any signs of anyone nearby. you turn to him and hiss, “you have too many people wandering your house for you to say that so loud.”

“not like they’ve never heard us before,” he shrugs.

well, that’s satoru for you—as shameless as ever. not only has he probably traumatized the poor maids with his insatiable horniness, but he’s not even got the tact to at least seem embarrassed. not even slightly ashamed. you scoff, shaking your head as he grins up at you cheekily.

“you’re a real case, you know that?” you say in disbelief, “i think the only surface you haven’t fucked me on is your parent’s bed. and that’s only because you love your mom enough not to do that.”

“if it was just the old man’s, i’d have fucked you on that too,” he snickers. and then he hums thoughtfully, “actually, i think i have fucked you everywhere. it’s like a bucket list.”

“satoru, you’re sick in the head.”

“the showers, the guest rooms, the kitchen, the living room, the movie room, my room, of course—oh, the game room too. and we can’t forget the backyard and the pool either. i think we got it all—wait.”

he sounds serious. you look at him with furrowed brows as you tilt your head. “what?”

“we didn’t get this room.”

oh god. he’s absolutely ridiculous—and not only that but a complete idiot, too. not only do satoru and his father not get along, but his father couldn’t disapprove of you any more than he already does. the last thing you both need is for him to walk in on his son fucking the girl he probably wants to hire a hitman to assassinate.

“oh my god,” you say exasperatedly, “toru, have you not one ounce of shame? you can’t possibly think—”

“why didn’t i think of this sooner?” he wonders out loud—and oh no. satoru has that look in his eyes, the one that’s locked in on something he wants. the spoiled side of him isn’t going to let this go. the weak part of you is probably going to have a hard time fighting him.

the unwise part of both of you will probably get you both into a whole lot of trouble.

“because it’s a bad idea. you’re a smart guy, toru,” you try to butter him up—it doesn’t seem to do much, though. “the smartest. so, so genius and intelligent, so you know this is a terrible idea, so let’s just drop it—”

“i should’ve done this way sooner,” he chuckles, looking at you in awe, “bend you right over this desk and fuck you over that fossil’s papers.”

his words are so shameless and so, so wrong. but for some odd reason, your clit aches a little at that.

“no, absolutely not—”

“can you imagine? he’s signing papers right where i had you drooling for me? he’d be so mad if he knew,” satoru cackles.

god—this should not be as appealing as it sounds. you try to throw on your best stern look, but satoru is as smart as he is sly. he can see the way you shift on your feet as he smirks up at you, and he’s already got that determined look in his eye that you know well enough.

it’s the same look he has when he decides he’s hungry—for you, that is. the same look that paints his face as he eyes you like you’re his next meal. the same look that tells you he wants you—and he’ll stop at nothing to have you.

and….well, you’ve never been good at saying no to satoru. it’s your fatal flaw.

“satoru, we should definitely not be doing any of that in here, and we definitely should not be risking making your dad—who hates that we’re dating, by the way—any more angry with us than he already is—”

“sweetheart,” he chuckles, pulling you by the wrist to fall onto his lap, “you worry too much, y’know that? i should fix that. fuck you dumb over this desk so you don’t overthink in that pretty little head you have.”

you glare at him, but he’s already got you straddling his hips, arms looped around your waist as he kisses your jaw with a hum. he’s already hard from what you can feel—the bulge pressing against your heat is hard to miss. 

“satoru—”

“save the part where you say my name for later. i haven’t even done anything yet,” he winks—and then he’s kissing you. he’s clever, you think, because kissing you is the fastest way to get you to melt against him, arms wrapping around his neck as he pulls you closer. 

so close, in fact, that you can feel his cock practically twitch in his pants as you shift on top of him, dragging your clothed cunt over his aching bulge.

“this is such a bad idea, toru,” you whisper in between kisses—but not one part of you fights his touch or even attempts to pull away. he hums, pressing wet kisses along your jaw as his hands dig into your hips, moving you to grind along his hardened length. 

“yeah? you sure? let’s check, shall we?” he raises a brow, hand slipping past the waistband of your pants and brushing past your folds—wet. dripping and messy and needy, just how your pussy always seems to be when you’re with him. he grins in satisfaction and throws you that knowing look as he mumbles, “sorry, baby. this pretty little pussy of yours disagrees.”

“toru,” you gasp as he toys with your clit, rubbing slow enough circles that you whine and roll your hips, trying to get more. but satoru is a brat—always has been, right from the day he was born. he pulls his fingers away and looks at you smugly as he kisses your curled lips while you frown at him.

“want more, don’t ya?” he asks—he’s too cocky for his own good sometimes. too ridiculous and annoying and troublesome, but you’re aching to feel something, anything. preferably him, so you nod. 

“just hurry up,” you huff. your hips push against him, dragging your cunt over his cock—it’s throbbing in his pants, confined under the fabric and needy for the tightness of your walls. you gasp when he rubs against your clit, and he groans, guiding your movements with a tight grip on your hips. 

“fuck, sweetheart,” he rasps, “c-could cum jus’ like this. see what you do to me?”

“‘s not me,” you tilt your head as he nips at your neck, hand trailing to cup the back of his head and keep him in place as he nibbles at the skin and pecks along the marks he leaves, “this is all your fault.”

“all my fault, huh?” he chuckles, “you make it sound like this is a bad thing.”

his hips buck up, rolling against yours and building the friction up until your both panting messes, his lips against yours as you drink in each other’s moans—your clit rubs along his length with every stutter of your hips, and his tip leaks with more pre cum every time you press harder against his cock. it’s desperate—the way he chokes on your name and the way you cling around his neck. it feels good, and the way this is all so wrong only makes it feel better. 

“‘m close, toru,” you mewl, whining as his hand slides under your shirt to massage your tit, his eyes trained on you as he hums.

“good,” he grins, eyes dark and glinting with a sick satisfaction you don’t think you’ve ever seen on him before, “cum for me, sweetheart. right here—right on this chair,” he says lowly. 

so you do—head falling back with a sharp gasp and your nails digging into his shoulder as you come undone with a loud whine. the gojo estate is big—very big. you’re sure your voice isn’t carrying through even a fraction of the place, but still, you can’t help but clamp a hand over your mouth in case anyone is nearby. 

satoru doesn’t like that, though—his hand rips yours off as he ruts his hips upwards faster, harder, pressing against you closer. “no, baby,” he chuckles, cutting himself off with a breathy moan when you press harder against his cock, “make sure you let me hear how good you feel. feels good, huh?”

“yes,” you whimper, “yes, feels so good—need more, toru. please,” you pout, looking up at him with lust-blown eyes. 

“here?” he mocks, raising a brow, “you want me to fuck you right here? in my father’s office? where he does his work? right on his desk?”

“yes, here,” you sob, “right here—please. want you so bad. need it.”

“see?” he laughs, “now you’re getting it—not so much of a bad idea, is it?”

that’s the thing about satoru—he’s too used to hearing what he wants. being told what he likes to hear. getting what he asks for. you say no, and he’s determined to change it to a yes. but yes is never enough—it’s more. always more, more, more. it’s like all rich people, you suppose. 

they just always want more.

there’s a small, reasonable voice in your head that tells you this is a bad idea. a disrespectful one, even. sure, satoru’s father has never been kind to you, let alone polite. he looks at you like you’re an eyesore, and he’s certainly said less than appropriate things about your upbringing. but that doesn’t mean you have to stoop to his level of low and do something equally as spiteful, if not more…but you’re only human. and satoru always just fucks you so well, and cumming around nothing just isn’t enough, and…well, you think it’s just karma. 

the way the world works. 

the way you and satoru work. 

so you grin, huff out a little snort before pulling him into a kiss and reaching to free his hard, leaky cock from its confinements. he whines a little into your mouth as you smear the arousal coating his tip along his length, stroking down and squeezing at the base. 

“okay,” you whisper against his lips, “fuck me toru. right here—right on his desk.”

that, evidently, is all it takes—one second you’re comfortably sitting on his legs, pants soaked with his bulge pressed against your core, and the next second you hear his hand swipe papers off the surface to fall to the floor as your back is pressed against the cool wood. he doesn’t even bother with your clothes, just tugs both of your pants down your thighs that it’s enough. satoru has always been impatient too—doesn’t like to wait for anything when he can take it when he wants. 

you can feel him close, hovering over you. he’s warm—where his cock presses against your thigh, where his breath fans over your lips, where his hands grab your wrists and pin them over your head. he’s warm, and your head spins, and you need him filling you to the brim right now.

“anything you want, you get, sweetheart,” he murmurs, grinning sickeningly sweet, “can’t say no to my baby. what kind of boyfriend would i be?” you feel him bump his tip against your clit, making you gasp before he drags the head of his cock along your folds—they’re wet and slick from your arousal, coating his tip before he’s slowly pushing in. you gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck as he groans lowly. “can never get used to this,” he breathes, “never get used to this pussy. just takes me so well. fit in like i was made just to fuck you.”

“toru, t-toru—oh,” you squeal when he slides the rest of his length to fill you, buried to the hilt as your walls flutter around him. it’s nothing new, but it’s never something you’re prepared for all the same. how thick he is, how perfectly he hits that spot in the back of your walls, how full he makes you feel. it makes your legs wrap around his waist and pull him forward, closer, deeper. “more, toru—move, please.”

“nuh uh,” he drawls, kissing your cheeks, “first you gotta tell me how much you love me.”

“satoru,” you hiss in disbelief, “are you kidding—”

“c’mon, say it,” he giggles, “love you, toru. love how you fuck me so good everywhere in your house and make me feel like a princess. you’re the best boyfriend ever and i’ll die without your cock—”

“i love you toru,” you smile sweetly, “you know what i love more, though? when you’re too busy making pretty sounds for me instead of talking so much.”

that makes him shudder—makes him curse under his breath as your walls flutter impatiently around him. he’s aching—hot and swollen in your dripping cunt, balls heavy with cum that he needs to empty into your pussy because it was made to take him. every inch of him.

“you’re gonna be the death of me,” he breathes out shakily, “know that? gonna kill me one of these days.”

“good,” you hum before rolling your hips and making his breath hitch, “now move, baby. wanna feel you.” 

he does—pulls his hips back so that he’s just almost pulled out completely before he slams back into you, pressing against your sweet spot with his tip in the way only satoru knows how. only he knows you this well, only he knows your body so well. he knows where to kiss and hold and touch to make your eyes flutter shut, and your mouth fall open, wanton moans falling past your lips without a care in the world who can hear. 

“so tight, baby,” he whines, “god you’re so perfect—my perfect girl.”

“so full,” you gasp, clawing at his shoulders, pulling at his hair, pulling him closer and closer and closer until not even air can fill the space between you. “feel so good, toru—fuck.”

“look at you,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, “‘s a shame you can’t see what i see. then you’d know why i can’t keep my hands off’a you—’s impossible.”

you can’t speak—all you can offer him as he’s bullying his thick girth into you is a pathetic whine as his veins drag along your walls, as his navel bumps along your clit and has your head thrown back against the table. there’s slick smeared along your inner thigh, the wet sound of his cock fucking into you ringing in your ears along with his deep groans as he pants harshly against your ear. you can feel his breath against your skin, can feel the goosebumps and the flutter of your walls every time he makes a pretty little sound for you as you squeeze around him. 

“love you, toru,” you mewl—you can’t help but say it, can’t help but remind him when he pushes into you like he was always meant to fit right there, like he was always meant to feel you as you feel him too. and if his rotten, greedy, stuck-up father with a receding hairline can’t see that you love satoru, maybe you’ll just have to fuck him right where he can find you just to drill the image into his mind. 

“love you too,” he says between moans, face digging into your neck as your hand cradles the back of his head, keeping him right there, keeping him close against you like he should never be anywhere else, “love my perfect, perfect girl. feel me? feel what you do to me?”

you nod between sharp gasps and soft cries of his name—he looks down at you in wonder, at the way your lips look when they murmur that sweet little cry of toru!, at the way your pussy sucks him in and hugs too tightly around him, at the way you look so good with the slight sheen of sweat on your face. 

his hips roll, a little sloppy in rhythm now, but still just as hard and deep as before. he can sense it—the way you’re just about to fall apart on his cock, just like you always do. so he presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing harsh circles that make you cling to him tighter as you cry out another sweet string of toru, toru—more!

“you close, sweetheart? gonna cum for me? ‘m close—gonna fill you up. want that, don’t you?”

“yeah,” you breathe, kissing him with hot, open-mouthed kisses that he returns, “yeah i wan’ you to fill me up, toru—gonna cum. ‘m so close—f-fuck, so close, baby.”

you know he is too, the way his cock twitches and the way his hips are desperate in the way they roll into you tells you he’s just as close to falling apart as you are. you push your hips up to meet his thrusts, pushing him impossibly deeper into your cunt before you feel the coil snap as you cum—hard. your walls flutter around him, spasming and squeezing around him that his bottom lip is tugged between his teeth as he inhales sharply.

“f-fuck, baby—’m gonna…” he doesn’t get to finish before you feel his cock twitch and the first drop of cum fills you. it’s hot and thick, every rope he fucks into you, leaking past his tip and painting your walls white. you can feel the mess he makes—can feel the drops leak and smear along your inner thighs as he slams into you with choked whines of your name. “g-good—’s so good, you feel so good,” he says breathlessly, face digging deeper into the crook of your neck as his arms tremble over you.

the wood is hard against you, makes your back ache slightly—but it’s not nearly as bad as satoru is good. you can’t think of anything else but the way he fucks you both through your highs until your legs are begging to press shut from the oversensitivity. 

it’s silent for a bit once you’ve finished—save for the harsh, labored panting as you both calm down and catch your breaths. satoru is still buried with his nose pressed against your neck, your hand rubbing over his back slowly.

“your maids must hate us,” you mumble, “and if your mother hears? we can never show her our faces again.”

“she’s probably dead to the world and watching her reality shows,” he snorts, “we’ll be fine.”

“well, we should clean up and leave before your dad—”

“oh look, speak of the devil. he’s just in time,” satoru snickers as he cuts you off, looking over at the window as an expensive car drives up to the house, “think we can get these papers organized before he comes up here? maybe we should just leave ‘em to make him mad.”

“you’re crazy,” you say in disbelief. and then— “i think we should leave them there. make them his problem.”

you think you’ve just watched satoru fall in love with you all over again at that.

i hate this fic but hopefully i come back one week later and reread it and think wow i ate w this. sometimes i do that. but if i don’t: if all of you donate one dollar to my family they can afford my funeral for when i drink bleach

[ilygetou]

zoro with a huge cock he doesn't know what to do with it

i shall elaborate. ૮˃̵֊ ˂̵ ა

cw. fem! reader, breeding kink if u squint, inexperienced!virgin! zoro (but it’s not mentioned), zoro lowkey acts like a pervert, solo male masturbation, hand/blowjob, cowgirl position, lots of cum, awkward boners, boob job, facials, creampie and/or breeding, damn this shit kinda long :/

note. this was supposed to be a 500 word thirst but i ended up writing this 2.3k monstrosity. so enjoy!

zoro who’s dick is so big & thick he doesn’t know what to do–every time he’d get a hard-on it’d always end up being awkward cause’ anyone who’d be there present with him would be able to notice it. The baggy clothes he’d be wearing would sometimes help him cover up his ridiculously huge erection but zoro still thinks it wasn’t enough coverage.

And when zoro thought it coudn’t get any worse, you suddenly came in the picture. Making the poor man suffer from even more awkward boners.

When he would be hanging around the crew but suddenly he’d get a sudden flash of your face & then he’d be put into this awkward situation. Having to rush to the nearest bathroom in the sunny to take care of his hardening cock.

The whole time zoro was in the bathroom, he would be letting out frustrated groans, he was stroking his cock in an aggressive manner–throwing his head back in frustration and groaning cause’ he was nowhere near his release. And he wishes you were there with him. Because, come on, you were the reason for all this to being with.

Despite zoro’s huge dick, he had heavy breeder balls that’re filled with his hot sperm <3 And zoro sometimes wishes you were with him right now, so he could empty his balls deep insides your cunt. It’s a real shame you aren’t a member of the straw hats, otherwise, zoro would have you stuffed with his massive cock all the time.

Everytime zoro goes off to jerk off, it’d always end up with him edging himself. He thinks he’s doing something wrong at this point–no matter how fast and rough he would be stroking his shaft, it was nowhere near enough and he would never be able to orgasm. Zoro started thinking that the reasoning for this is his ridiculously huge cock. That has to be the reason.

Every time zoro would finally be close to having sex, the person he’s about to fuck always ends up running away as soon and they see his sheer size. So he has been always insecure about his dick size, he’s supposed to be the greatest swordsman for fucks sake. And here he is worrying about the size of his dick.

Maybe if he had a medium sized dick–he would be able to cum as many times as he wants. But with this big one? Yeah, zoro doesn’t think he’ll be able to know what an orgasm feels like any time soon.

That was until zoro bumped into you coincidentally, you greeted him with a sheepish smile and pulled him into an unexpected hug, the poor man felt his face grow hot,, and suddenly his cock was slowly hardening. Zoro curses under his breath, scolding himself mentally, this was not the right time for this.

You were babbling about things you saw on your journey, all while using hand gestures to explain things, you had a small spark in your eyes and zoro could almost feel bad for ignoring whatever you were saying and instead focusing on the way your tits bounced with every move you made, and his eyes travelled downwards to where your crotch was. Your pussy was covered from the layers of clothes you were wearing.

Zoro couldn’t hide it anymore, his erection was poking his clothes and zoro’s face immediately went pale once he saw you take a glimpse of his hard-on. “Zoro we can continue talking in the sunny if that’s alright with you? ’M just tired of standing” and zoro immediately agreed, thinking you actually just wanted to talk–cause what else would you do? A sweet innocent, angel like you wouldn’t pull anything inappropriate.

Zoro had a confused expression when he saw you enter his room instead of just going to sit in the main area, he had an even more confused expression when he saw you lock the door–leaving you two trapped in his room. And when you made zoro sit on the edge of his bed as you went down on your knees, that’s when zoro completely lost it, finally understanding your true intentions.

His lips curved into a smirk once you started tugging on his baggy pants, “oh?” he chuckles, zoro really wasn’t sure about this. He was worried that you might get scared and leave if you saw his ridiculously large cock. “you sure ya’ wanna do this?” and you looked up at him with pleading doe-eyes, you pulled down your shirt, your tits bouncing from the impact; “mhm, wanna have you cum on my face n’ tits, please?”

Zoro’s breath hitched, completely mesmerized from the view in front of him. You finally tugged down his pants, his cock slapping you in the face–zoro immediately muttered a ‘sorry’ his face already turning red. But you honestly didn’t mind, what shocked you more was how big zoro was, you knew he was going to be big by the way his erection was poking his pants but not this big.

His tip itself was huge, it was mushroom shaped and had a pinkish color to it, his shaft was a very light shade of almond, pre-cum dripping down his base and you couldn’t help but worry if it’ll be able to fit inside your mouth or if it’d be able to go between your tits. While you took your time eyeing it, zoro immediately grew worried & insecure–is it too big? did you not like it? And then zoro thought that what if you won’t be able to make him cum as well? He had so many futile jerking off sessions he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to cum anymore.

Zoro was snapped out of his thoughts when you wrapped your small hands around his dick, you had to use both hands to be able to fully satisfy zoro. You started with his tip, circling your thumb around the head until zoro started groaning from the feeling. Slowly moving down to the base and giving it small strokes using both hands, zoro gripped the sheets of his bed–it was completely different from what does.

Zoro would usually just go straight into it, moving his hands rough and fast to get himself to cum but it never worked. But now that you were the one doing it for him, it felt way better than when he does it alone. You were cradling his cock, kneading the tip gently, moving your hands very gently and slow. It was like you were teasing zoro the difference was that it felt so fucking amazing.

You withdrew your hands and zoro groaned in response, his face was flushed red as he took a quick glance at you, his eyes fluttered shut once he saw you positioning his dick between your breasts. He moaned at the soft feeling of your tits around his cock, swallowing his saliva when you took his tip in your mouth, sucking on the fat head of his cock sloppily.

“A-Ahh–shit–” he murmured, running his hands through his hair as he watched your tits swallow his entire length once you squeezed them together. The tip of his cock remained in your mouth, your tongue was wrapped around it–while you kept sucking on it messily. Drool kept dripping from the side of your chin and coating your tits, you looked up at zoro, his head was thrown back as he gripped the sheets beneath him.

When zoro decided to take a small glimpse of your state right now, he immediately regrets it. His huge tip was bulging in your mouth, a few tears covering your lashline, you were squishing your breasts together as you slightly bounced your body. And now, zoro was letting out low hisses, his thighs trembled, cock twitched, and now he was cumming all over your face and tits.

You looked up at zoro with a shocked expression and a cum covered face and zoro himself was shocked as well. He was trying to process this, is this how am orgasm feels like? ’cause fuck, he’s already addicted to the feeling of it.

You licked off the white stains from your face, you got up and pushed zoro back on his bed. “Can i ride you? Pretty please?” zoro’s eyes widened, face becoming even more flushed that even his ears turned red. “I-uh, Are you sure?” you nodded your head, you just had to prepare yourself before taking his stupidly big cock.

You grabbed zoro’s hands, pulling out his middle and index finger, you placed them above your panties, moving zoro’s hands–causing his fingers to rub your clothed cunt, zoro lets you do as you please, watching in amusement as you used him for your own pleasure. Once you took off your panties, you guided zoro’s fingers to your clit, making him rub it until you were moaning from the feeling.

“I think i g-got it, so let me do it” zoro offers and you immediately agreed, letting go of his hands as zoro’s fingers trailed to where your small hole was. This is where his cock was supposed to go? Holy shit. He pushes in his thick digits & your walls immediately clamped down on them, zoro starts with slow thrusts of his fingers–and you were already dripping on them.

With only a few more thrusts, you were already close, zoro’s fingers were already too thick and fulfilling–you can’t imagine how’d it feel to be fucked by his huge dick instead of his fingers. You grabbed zoro’s hands which startled him, “s-stop, wanna cum on your cock instead, please” zoro raised a brow but obeyed nonetheless, retracting his fingers from your drooling cunt.

You placed your hands on his abs for balance as you positioned yourself on top of zoro’s cock, slowly pushing down, your body quivered, breath caught short as the tip was slowly penetrating you and you could already feel the stretch from just the tip alone. And shortly, his whole length was inside you, you still couldn’t move–trying to adjust his ridiculous size.

And zoro couldn’t take it anymore, he wanted you to move, the warmth of your pussy and the way it was sucking him all the way in felt all too good but he can’t stop thinking about how great it’d feel if you’d just fucking move. He then took ahold of your wrists and thrusted his hips upwards, a scream left you, “w-wait zoro!” you weren’t expecting for zoro to be this inpatient.

He thrusted into you one more time, as tears started covering your lashline–he was stretching you so good right now, particularly splitting you open. “Feels so good, fuck” he sighs, feeling your walls clamp down on him, zoro’s eyes fluttered shut, gripping your waist with both hands as he bounced you up and down his cock.

Zoro traces the outline his cock is leaving on your stomach, was this him inside you? He threw his head back, feeling you clench down on him every time the tip hits your cervix. “You’re so good, so good f’me” he coos, and all you could do was nod in response. Tears streaming down your cheeks as you try and bounce on his cock but ending up as a whimpering mess, leaning on zoro for support.

His cock was deep inside you, a bulge visible on your tummy, his hips were pressed against your ass, and his hands were wrapped around your waist. God, You couldn’t ask for more than this, no, zoro couldn’t ask for more. He already came earlier and fuck, it felt so good.

Everytime zoro would thrust upwards, he would let out a hiss, droopy eye’s looking down at your messy face. “shit, you’re so tight” he’d groan, watching as your body trembles with every thrust, as obscene sounds slipped past your lips.

“z-zoro,” and zoro swears he could cum just by the sound of you calling out his name, “gnna’ cum, so close!” you threw your head back as you gripped zoro’s hair, your eyes rolled back as your whole body quivered— pornographic moans left you as you came all over zoro’s cock.

Zoro brought up a hand to your face, wiping the tears from your cheeks, removing a strand of hair and tugging it behind your ear—zoro then gave you a quick peck on the lips. His hands finding their way around your waist once again.

And it wasn’t long after zoro was also near his climax, zoro pressed a hand to his mouth to soak up the moans he’s struggling to hold in while his other hand still held your waist down. Zoro’s thighs trembled, bucking into you until he was cumming deep inside you, stuffing you to the hilt with his thick, creamy cum.

And after that incident, you were zoro’s personal flashlight. Always having his cum on either your tits, face or inside your mouth or/and cunt. You were always getting fucked by zoro, well this was bound to happen — he finally found someone he could give his cum to.

You couldn’t say that you were used to his size, you’d still always get shocked whenever his cock would basically slap you in the face. Always having to do hours of prep to make it fit. And as always, you’d getting fucked too dumb you’d pass out while zoro was still thrusting into you.

Sometimes he’d get too riled up and would slam his cock into your “too small” cunt without any prep and would finally release you when he has already stuffed you with his cum at least five times. He would sometimes make you walk around with his cum dripping down your legs and would watch from afar as you try to run to the nearest valley to clean yourself up.

Despite being stretched by his cock way too many times, you’d always feel tight for zoro and you’d also always feel like his splitting you open every time.

And you’re not sure if you’re supposed to be happy that you got yourself a dumb boyfriend with a stupidly big cock which he doesn’t know how to use without your help.

[velvetures]

Got Me Snoring

A/N: One of my favorite things inspired by all the Ghost/König cosplayer TikToks using that one, song audio. Summary: Ghost admits getting head is boring. Reader isn't happy with that idea and goes about changing his mind. T/W: NS/FW 18+ Only, blowjobs, deepthroating, size kink if you squint, spit?, cursing, aggressive tension?, taunting, not proofread, and it's been a long ass time since I've written full-on smut.

“All I’m sayin’ is that if she calls again, I’m not about to answer.” Soap’s voice carried from the living space of the hotel room to the kitchenette where you stood microwaving some rice from a convenience store down the street.

After-mission talk always leads to the most strange conversations. Maybe the adrenaline or the high of getting almost killed got everyone in a talking mood. However as the Captain slid behind you to go grab more ice outside in the hallway, you couldn’t help but shoot him a questioning look. They’d been talking about their previous accomplishments and failures in the bedroom for nearly twenty minutes, and thankfully they’d not roped you into the ridiculous conversation but with the Captain leaving out of the room, it drew their eyesight right to you standing patiently for your instant rice to finish cooking.

“What about you, huh?” Gaz was the one to poke a little. “Have any horror stories from the bedroom?” His eyebrows raised in mischievous curiosity as all three men sat staring at you with great intent.

“I’ve faked it plenty of times.” You reply offhandedly, waving a hand at them and going back to staring at the small plastic cup rotating around in the microwave.

You overheard the men pass through the moment of silence with low laughs, most noticeably, Ghost. Who’d apparently found something very funny and decided to grace everyone with the sound of deep and resounding chuckles. With a gloved hand, you take out your food and rejoin them in the room, finding a spot on the corner of one of the beds and crossing your legs to hold the bowl while you watch and listen to more of their recounted stories.

Soap complained more about the one night he’d met up with one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met, and drank himself into oblivion to try and ease his nerves. The only problem was, that when he finally had enough liquid courage to make a move, he couldn’t get it up. Even watching him recount the tale now, you could see his embarrassment. You couldn’t imagine just how beautiful that woman had to be for Soap to give himself whiskey-dick so bad that to this day he regretted the memory and undoubtedly wished he could take it back. Gaz got pressured into retelling the story of the woman he met in Russia just for you since you’d never heard it; Detailing just how she’d been absolutely obsessed with him right from the get-go.

She couldn’t stop fawning over his accent and just how downright good-looking he was. Gaz on the other hand felt very embarrassed and never really tried to take things further on that trip. Fortunately for him, on a trip back a few months later for pleasure, he ran into the woman again and this time around she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Soap and Ghost laughed, poking fun at how utterly exhausted Garrick was when he met up with them in London. His shit-eating grin was more than enough for them to surmise that his little Russian vixen had taken him for a hell of a ride.

Then there was Ghost.

He didn’t have much to say in the way of his own successes, but did share one or two small comparisons with the other two as they kept pulling out detail after detail about the many people they’d met over the years and how they either felt they’d left their mark… or totally fucking missed it. All of it came to a very interesting topic that you suddenly became very interested in when Ghost uttered one single statement that left your mouth hanging open and staring at him almost in disbelief.

“I don’t like someone blowin’ my cock,” his voice sounded flat. Totally unbothered and nearly sleeping at the idea. “Never cared much for it when half doesn’t fit.”

You couldn’t help but insert yourself into the conversation after a long hour or so of sitting like a viewer at a movie. “Wait a second… You mean to tell me you don’t like getting head because you're too big?” The gasp in your tone was obvious, and even Soap and Gaz looked at him a little strangely as if they didn’t truly believe the idea either. It gave you a bit more reassurance in your belief that almost all men enjoyed it. Sure, there was the odd chance that Ghost just didn’t like it at all, but you really wanted to hear his explanation if he’d give you one.

The Lieutenant turned to look at you and nodded stiffly. “Yeah, ‘bout always puts me to sleep.”

It was at this point you felt the slightest urge to tell him he’d never had someone give him a legitimately good blowjob before. But before you could even say something to the contrary, a thought crossed your mind. Ghost didn’t seem like the kind of man who attracted ill-experienced women. Especially when he had already proven throughout the evening that his previous encounters were much more interesting and expansive than even that of yourself. Something a bit… jealous rose inside of you at the thought.

Imagining your Lieutenant laying on his back and hardly making any sort of sound while someone pulls out every single trick in their arsenal to make a blowjob somewhat entertaining or arousing. You didn’t necessarily profess yourself to have a crush on Ghost, due to just how grey the line between operators and anything felt when you spent so much time together under high-stress environments. There was bound to be some level of emotional attachment that devolved past… professional. And for whatever it was, knowing that Ghost had such a bad opinion on the receiving end of pleasure became a challenge you wanted to overcome.

About that time, Price returned with half-melted ice and a half-smoked cigar hanging between his lips.

“Finished talking about chasin’ tail yet?” He grumbled, walking past the group of you still sitting around each other like a bunch of kids getting caught staying up late by Dad at a sleepover. “Wanna go to fuckin’ sleep.”

He dropped the ice bucket down on the dresser with a little thud before settling himself down on the pull-out couch with his hat covering his eyes and both arms resting behind his head with that cigar still puffing smoke rings into the air. Ghost was the first to stand up, making his way out of the hotel room without as much as a comment about when he’d be back or where he was going. Your eyes trailed over his shoulders tapering into a slim waist before giving way again to thick and muscular thighs enhanced by all of gear still strapped to his body. His kit did leave a lot to the imagination. And god did your mind start to wander as both Soap and Gaz began winding down, settling themselves down to sleep for the night or at least lay somewhere quietly so the Captain didn’t lose any more of his patience and kick someone out or force them to pay for their own room. Not nearly tired enough with all of the questions and thoughts about Ghost now floating through your mind, you didn’t care the least bit about laying down or pretending not to care about the fact of the matter and headed out of the hotel room after the Lieutenant as Soap turned out the final lamp in the corner of the room.

The air was a bit cold outside without your jacket, breath materializing in front of you in light wisps of fog with every exhale as you looked down both ends of the hallway hoping to see some sign of where Ghost might’ve gone to. Down on the far left side, a larger cloud of smoke blew past the breezeway entrance and you knew right away that Ghost would be at the end of it. And when your eyes peeked around the corner, you weren’t the least bit surprised to see him with a shoulder resting up against the wall; his back to you with enough of his mask pulled up so that he could smoke a cigarette. The sweet vanilla and cherry smell hit you like a wall, reminding you that Ghost preferred rolling his own cigarettes and used pipe tobacco instead of buying packs of anything else.

Leaves no trace behind… He’d explained without prompting one night after noticing that you’d been watching him.

“Followin’ me now?” His voice heavy with smoke and unhindered by his mask landed directly on you, not even needing to turn around to know you were the one tailing after him.

“Couldn’t let you freeze to death alone.” You reply with a little smile, taking it as your chance to go ahead and walk -slowly- over to him giving him the privacy to smoke without needing to fuss with keeping his face covered.

By standing just at his back leaning against the wall, he knew right where you were, and it put the weight of conversation on him for the moment. He gave you a gruff sort of sound and took another drag off his cigarette before turning just far enough to offer it to you. You take it from his gloved fingers carefully, licking your lips a little in slight nervousness. This wasn’t the first time he’d offered you a hit, but it was the first time you’d ever actually taken him up on it. Seeing the damp rolling paper on the end made you shiver a little; Hopefully, the cold weather would be a good enough excuse to keep him from recognizing your sudden anxiety around him. Wrapping your lips around it and inhaling, you’re a little more than guilty for noticing the taste of Ghost instead of the vanilla and cherry. With a quick glance to your side, you saw his mask was pulled back down over his mouth and his dark eyes were focused right on you as you blew the smoke out of your mouth and back in through your nose. Attempting to hand it back, he just shakes his head.

“You didn’t come out here to be cold,” He finally broke the silence. “What’d you really want from me?”

No matter how long you spent around Ghost, you never got used to just how miserably direct Ghost could be. Like nothing was truly surprising to him or worth being the least bit delicate over. Even if it concerned someone -like yourself- at least attempting to be a little more discretionary. Yet you sighed and took another drag before tossing the rest of it down on the concrete, putting out the ember with the toe of your boot.

“Were you lying earlier?” Your question falls a little short of confident, giving Ghost the impression right away that you were nervous. For a split second, you thought you saw the phantom of a smile under the cover of his mask before it was quickly hidden back under late-night shadow and white paint. Ghost put his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt and gave a sigh, making more fog swirl around and through the woven material around his mouth. Another thought of what his mouth looked like flashed through your failing mind.

“Why would it matter?”

You licked at your bottom lip, trying to figure out a way to word this without sounding desperate or downright shameless in front of your commanding officer… you shouldn't be thinking about doing this in the first place. So many more bad outcomes could come of this than the one good one. Even then, it was risky. Leaving you a bit dazed and staring at Ghost.

“Asked you a question. I’m expectin’ an answer.” He pressed forward, a slight swagger in his hips as he got closer to you, resting a hand on the wall and tilting his head a little to the side. Damn near mocking you for being so much smaller and easily intimidated. You look down at your boots for a moment, deciding to just put your money where your mouth is and take the hit no matter the outcome.

“If you weren’t lying…” You look up, internally screaming at how heavy his eyes look down on you. “I’d like to try and change your mind.”

A deep chuckle comes from the Lieutenant in response followed by his heavy hand resting on your shoulder, almost totally engulfing it.

“You’re jokin’,” His voice lowered with humor that made you almost shrivel up and die inside. “Why would I let you do that?” You give a frustrated sigh and take a step back away from Ghost. Mentally and physically distancing yourself from the slight Ghost had given you by accident or otherwise.

“Never mind.” You give a short nod and turn on your heel to head back to the hotel room and find somewhere to curl up on the floor or in a bed with someone and try to sleep off your damaged ego.

Yet five steps away from Ghost, you’re stopped short with his arm snaked around your waist tightly and his mouth resting against your ear with a heavy and hot breath fanning against your neck. His palm spreads over your stomach and squeezes almost aggressively at the soft flesh under your shirt. Tall and wide, Ghost yanks your back flush to his chest as a silent threat.

“Don’t fuckin’ walk away from me,” His low growl makes you shiver. “I’m not finished with ya.”

In an instant, you’re spun around and hauled aggressively with your back against the nearest wall with Ghost’s chest holding you from fighting back. His legs limit your ability to try and escape out from under his arms, and while one hand is flat against your chest, the other restricts both your wrists above your head. Breath evacuates your lungs with the sudden shock of your back against the wall, but your eyes are locked on Ghost’s as he glares at you harshly through the wavering mist of his breath in the cold air.

“Now I’ve got you pacified…” His smirk was clear in tone, outright mocking you by pressing those massive thighs tighter against yours. “Let’s continue shall we?” The gloved hand pressed against your heaving chest slides up to grasp firmly at your chin and jerk it up to look him in the eyes.

“Why don’t you be a good little thing and tell me why you think you could change my mind, and maybe… I won’t punish you for talkin’ shit to your superior officer.” He spat loudly, his face less than an inch from yours, eyes flaming with aggression.

“Sorry Lieutenant…” You mutter stiffly through the struggle of his hand against your jaw. “Thought I could do better.” You add a lot weaker, averting your eyes as far from Ghost as you can.

“What was that?” He made dark fun of you, terribly obvious, and downright happy with himself. “Say it again.”

You squirm in his grasp, only to get your wrists slid up higher on the wall and a thigh shoved between your own to lift your feet almost totally off the ground. Toes tapping the ground, Ghost holds you totally of his own power without the slightest effort needed to keep you held right where he wanted you to be.

“Thought I could do better.” You repeat yourself louder, and more clearly, feeling utterly stupid for enduring such pathetic treatment. Only you knew it was your fault for letting such a pipe dream of an idea come to reality by prodding Ghost about his sex life so confidently. The masked man hummed lowly, tilting his head as he inspected your face lighted only by a small sliver of moonlight creeping around the corner of the hallway.

“Better, huh?” Ghost chuckles darkly, this thumb tracing over the bottom curve of your lip carefully. “That’s a lot of confidence for someone so small.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Size has nothing to do with it.”

Ghost barks laughter, grumbling something under his breath before dropping his hand away from your jaw and releasing one of your hands to press against his groin. You can’t miss his meaning from the massive erection pressing back against your hand and twitching impatiently when your Lieutenant squeezes your hand around it tighter. A growl escapes his throat and he looks up at you with almost evil eyes.

“Still think size doesn’t matter, little one?” He questions, one eyebrow raising above the hemline of his mask.

Your mouth falls open in shock. Not only because of the sheer girth of Ghost’s cock pulsing in your hand but realizing that he was actually taking your proposal seriously no matter how aggressive his mockery of you was. It shouldn’t have been so damn surprising when taking into account just how large of a man Ghost is. Surely everything would be proportionate, and his erection was proof of it.

Your face is enough to make Ghost chuckle. “That’s what I thought…”

It’s enough of a dismissal that thaws your speechlessness and throws you right back into the present with enough of the guts to speak up for your own desires.

“I can do it,” You blurt breathlessly, fingers tracing along the curve of Ghost’s dick and earning a lusty growl from him. “I can make it good. I’ll make it fit.” You nod your head feverishly in an attempt to keep your chance open. Ghost’s eyes widen at your desperation and his cock twitches hard in your palm with the sound of your shallow breaths and pleading eyes.

“You want it, huh?” He questions, mask moving like he’s grinning under it.

“Then get on your fuckin’ knees.”

The moment his hands release you, you feel yourself sliding down the wall until your knees make a bruising thud against the concrete floor in front of Ghost. Your hands holding on his thighs without the slightest care that you were standing in the middle of a hotel breezeway where anyone could see you. A weight settled in your lower stomach with the idea of anyone coming out of their room and witnessing such a sight.

“My belt.” Ghost instructs a bit pinched, looking down at you with his chin almost touching his chest.

You’re frantic yet shaking as your hands slide up his thighs and begin pulling his belt loose, hearing that metallic clink as you pull the two sides apart with a watering mouth. No instruction is necessary for you to know where to go next, and as you unbutton his cargo pants, your free hand palms his cock as you pull down just enough of his waistband to expose him but not make him cold. Ghost’s hands help just a little, settling extra material where he prefers it, almost patiently holding up his own hoodie and t-shirt out of your way as you slid your hands under his boxers.

“Fuck…” Ghost mutters quietly, tensing when your fingers wrap around his base and free him from his underwear.

Your thumb smears over his swollen head soft enough to not make him jerk away with sensitivity, and you lick your lips at just how wet his cock already is from sheer anticipation. Hell, you were turned on too, practically dripping in your underwear at the sight of Ghost with nothing but a perfect dick exposed and ready for your mouth. The first lick is a teasing one. Flattening it over his head just because you couldn’t wait to taste him, gathering up his arousal, and making it a point to swallow with your eyes locked right on Ghost’s. You're certain it’s enough to affect him just by the way he grunts and rests both of his hands against the wall behind you to steady himself.

When your lips wrap around his tip and slide down towards his base slowly, you hollow your lips and suck hard. Almost mimicking drinking through a straw with both hands wrapped around his thick base to restrict blood flow, adding to his sensitivity. You feel his feet flex in his boots next to your thighs and another low grunt. It spurs you forward, sinking down further and massaging your tongue on the underside before raising back up to lick at his frenulum and repeating the process with quiet whines each time he’s unable to hold back some sound.

“Shit-” He hisses after no more than a couple of minutes, jerking his hips back away from you and moving your hands out of the way so he could tighten his own fist around his cock with a heaving chest.

He stays like that for a few moments, undoubtedly trying to stave off the pleasure you’d been giving before his eyes meet yours again and they’re downright hungry and raging with fury that you’d brought him so close without any extra fancy moves or those fake moans that porn always showed. With one quick movement, he stepped closer and tilted your head back until it gently rested against the wall behind you, his cock smearing your own spit and his arousal over your open and awaiting mouth.

“You look pretty like this…” He muttered, rubbing his length over your face and tapping it teasingly against your mouth. “You hungry for more?” You’re sticking out your tongue and nodding right away, earning you a tense chuckle and the feeling of Ghost’s dick sliding into your mouth while his hand cushions the back of your head from the wall.

“Let me feed it to ya,” He grunts. “Shove my fat cock in your mouth and fuck your throat..” He adds with a feral sort of sound mixing with an ever-thickening accent.

You moan around his length, feeling your jaw muscles begin to start aching when your nose just barely grazes his pubic bone and his tip touches the back of your throat. He’s thick enough to qualify as the largest you’ve ever experienced, but you’re not the slightest bit concerned about whether he’ll be able to fit. You know he’ll make it fit if nothing else.

And him utterly pounding your throat sounded so hot that you tried pushing further down on his shaft yourself. Eager to feel Ghost as deep in you as possible. Ghost obliges you, and rocks his hips forward slowly, easing his thick head past that ring of pressure at the back of your throat and cursing under his breath when a wet, gurgling sound vibrates around his shaft as you begin swallowing around him.

“Bloody, fuucckk yes…” His groans punch through the quiet air, far louder than he should be risking in such a public space. But he’s only getting started with this experience as your nose presses against his pubic bone, and his hand flattens against the wall.

“So tight… doggin’ me right where anyone can see.”

It’s the thought that had you so eager, and right away you felt just how much it turned Ghost on too. Because the second he said it, he pulled back just a fraction and pushed himself back down your throat, beginning tight and quick thrusts that made your eyes roll back. He kept a furious pace, growling and holding tight to the back of your head until you tapped at the back of his thigh a few times, and he pulled out with a loud grunt, giving you a moment to breathe. You panted, seeing a thick web of spit connecting your mouth and his tip before watching it break and drip down your shirt.

You’re about to tell Ghost… something. But you instantly lose thought of it when he’s bent down with his mask rucked up just far enough to smash his mouth to yours, shoving his tongue in your mouth and practically eating you from the inside out. You can still taste the salty edge of his skin, and it’s almost heady to have his mouth mingling with yours and sharing his arousal between soft moans and heavy breaths. The kiss is long and feverish, but not near long enough before he’s standing back up and stroking his fist up and down his cock right in front of you like an unreal kind of dream somehow coming to life.

“Please.” You mutter a bit hoarse from the rough treatment of your throat, totally unsure of what you really want most. Between his mouth, words, and dick there’s so much more than just one you desired, but at least one of them needed to be delivered to you to attempt satisfaction.

“Open up, little one…” Ghost whispers face re-masked already, and it makes you whine pathetically, having naively believed he’d allow you just one glimpse at the mouth you’d just tasted. “Need to have more of you.” You’re totally happy to resign by leaning your head back against the wall with your tongue wetting your lips in the cold air.

Ghost starts painfully slow, holding your head on both sides of your jaw and teasing his head against your tongue and the textured roof of your mouth; indiscernible words falling from his mouth and his eyes squeezed tightly shut. You would’ve thought it was nothing more than your Lieutenant just taking his pleasure as offered. But the way his thumbs brushed over your cheeks and his fingers would occasionally rub over the stretched muscles in your jaw gave you the feeling that he was well aware of what you were surrendering to him. As well as how thankful he was to have you on your knees, and looking so fucking angelic swallowing and spitting on his dick like a dirty little whore.

“Let me - Wanna…” His rising breaths and steady strokes begin to falter the longer he thrusts inside your mouth, meticulously avoiding forcing himself deeper in disappointment; resulting in your whining and muffled complaints and pleasure. Had his hands not been purposefully holding you back to prolong the session, Ghost probably wouldn’t have lasted this long.

“P-patience…” His stammer made your chest clench in satisfaction. “Don’t - don’t wanna finish in your mouth…”. That breathy comment nearly struck you stiff as concrete.

You couldn’t believe that after this entire ordeal, Ghost was actually trying to end a blowjob without you finishing it the way you honestly believed it should always end. With you swallowing every last fucking drop that the Lieutenant gave you; wearing a goddamn smile bigger than anyone has ever seen. If he hadn’t been lying and head never impressed him, there wasn’t a chance in Hell you were going to let him finish anywhere that wasn’t down your throat. In a split second, you were shaking your head no and pulling back off his cock with a slight gasp.

“No, finish.” It’s the most demanding and certain you’ve sounded all night. “Finish in my mouth, Ghost.”

His eyes say it all.

They’re wide with his pupils blown at impressive dimensions and his thick eyelashes flutter as his shocked expression forces him to blink over and over again to make sense of you. Mouth and chin covered in spit, on your knees, and literally begging him to come in your mouth.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking filthy…” He mutters aloud, watching intently as you slide back down over him one more time and begin doing what you wanted to from the very beginning.

Bring Ghost to his knees.

It’s a moment before you have him cursing and holding onto the wall with both hands again as you push deeper and deeper until you're teasing the tip of your nose against him yet again. Unwilling to let him pull you off this time or prolong this. Deserving this release was the bare minimum. Not only did you want to provide him ultimate pleasure where no one else had, but you enjoyed every single bit of it. You needed this as much -if not more- than Ghost.

Heavy and twitching in your mouth, Ghost was teetering on the edge of his orgasm with stuttering hips and one hand sliding down to rest on your head. Not pushing this time, just laying at the crown like your movements were too much to feel with only one part of his body. Short pants were cut short by unintelligible words and strained attempts to say what you already knew.

As if giving your final approval of the idea Ghost had found unacceptable, you push him as deep as you could one final time; Hearing his loud shout echo down the breezeway as both of his hands grabbed harshly onto the sides of your head. Pumping stream after stream of his hot release down your throat you moaned deeply, feeling him gently rock his hips against your face as he rode down his high on shaky legs. You gagged a little as he pulled out, feeling your throat begin to burn in an unfamiliar way that had never followed you sharing a moment like this with another man. Only one look at Ghost’s cock right in front of your face was more than enough to reassure you he’d just been the one who gave you enough of a delicious stretch to feel for days to come.

Your eyes met his and a small little shy smile crossed your sore lips, contrasting the absolutely deplorable -and punishable- act you’d ever committed with a superior officer. Wordlessly Ghost tucked himself back into his underwear and neglected to button his pants back up before dropping to a knee right in front of you and pulling up his mask again to brush his lips against yours.

“Want to taste,” He whispered ever-so-softly, hands holding your head gently.

“Need to taste me inside your mouth.” He added, licking your lips before closing the distance between you for a second time. This kiss was still intense. Ghost controlling the pace and just how much dominance you had, which nearly came to zero when he licked into your mouth, groaning shamelessly. He could taste his release coating your mouth as he utterly overwhelmed you with kisses, licks, bites, and more moans that fell like honey on your ears.

You were the first to pull back for a gasp of air you’d gone full minutes without, feeling your own mouth and body beginning to feel a little weak with exhaustion not typical of a well-conditioned soldier like yourself. Your Lieutenant took note right away and rested his head against yours reassuringly, his nose touching yours.

“You’re too cold to be out here like this.” He whispered, pulling your cheek affectionately and wrapping the other arm around you. “Not gonna let you freeze after that.” He chuckled a bit sluggishly, kissing you again long and chaste.

He pulled his mask back down and gave very little effort to pick you up off your knees and into his arms without question or hesitation. Leaving you feeling like a treasured prize he’d won and refused to let out of his sight for more than a moment. Safe and protected, you couldn’t care one bit about the cold nipping through your thin clothes and resting your head against Ghost’s shoulder as he carried you back to the hotel room the 141 had already retired for the night in.

Expertly avoiding Soap and Gaz laying on couch cushions on the floor and covered with extra bedsheets, sliding around Price’s bed without bumping it, all while carrying you Ghost sat you down on the edge of the bed he’d been keen to claim as his own right when you’d arrived. You were nearly asleep just sitting there when he unlaced your boots enough to tug them off, pulled your shirt off over your head, and replaced it with one of his hoodies. Finally, he takes off your pants and nods for you to move up to the top of the bed, acting just as he would normally. But as he climbed into the bed next to you and tugged you back against him tightly, you realized you’d gotten a lot more than you bargained for.

Sure you might’ve changed Ghost’s mind about getting head… but you weren’t finished yet. Because Ghost was curling his arm around your waist and burying his masked face in between your shoulder blades like cuddling with you at night was the usual way of things. His fingers innocently traced the waistband of your underwear, and he radiated body heat that melted away the fringe sensations of cold on your body easily.

“I’ve made a decision,” He whispers very quietly so as not to wake the others. And you wiggle back a little closer to him, nodding your head as a silent acknowledgment for him to go on. Expecting him to say that you did -in fact- change his mind about getting blown.

“You’re mine now.”

Comments & Reblogs are Appreciated

[choslut]

˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ SWEET TALK. featuring choso.

↻ choso lives for one thing ; to make sure his precious girlfriend is never unsatisfied.

tags : cunniligus, dirty talk, body worship, male masturbation, overstimulation, squirting, fingering, mentions of face sitting, feral choso // wc. 0.7k

author's note : i lowkey wanna thank @toadtoru for sending in an ask about this before i even posted it, because i used some of those ideas to improve on this :3 in true homage to my username choso is a complete slut in this lolsies ;) one more to go and this event is finished, thanks for sticking around for THIS long i love everyone here >o<

this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.

if there’s one thing CHOSO firmly believes in, it’s that you aren’t just his girlfriend, but some supreme deity from heaven above. it sounds completely ridiculous, but he believes it more than anything, especially in moments like this. 

you just look so beautiful above him on the couch, thighs parted slightly and fingers caressing the sensitive mound in between your legs, head tipped back and lips parted in a silent ‘o’ as your toes curl into the carpet. angelic, he thinks, and he can’t wait to receive permission to touch you.

“choso…” your voice is smooth like butter yet sweet like caramel, and choso can feel his cock begin to press up against his slacks. “c’mere.”

yes. that’s all he needs before he’s eagerly crawling in between your legs to lap at your cunt, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs as he pulls them apart in earnest. “shit… missed me, did she?” his rambles are fueled by pure lust and delusion, and as he eats you out, choso begins to talk into your cunt. “missed her too… poor baby can’t go too long without her sweet boyfriend, huh…”

fingers tangle in his dark locks as you pull him closer, effectively muffling his ramblings by grinding your lower half on his tongue. the way he eats you out is feverish, his wet muscle alternating between your inflamed clit and pulsing hole interchangeably. and choso can’t help himself from getting fired up by your lewd display too, his own hips grinding down onto  the couch as he finds solace in between your legs. 

you, on the other hand, are positively reeling, legs twitching uncontrollably as choso continues to make a mess of your poor cunt. you wish you could return to him the same pleasure tenfold, but all you can do is sit and take it, helpless to his ministrations. “cho, cho, ‘s too much, baby, s-slow down…” 

begging is futile. choso is hypnotised, his own eyes rolling into the back of his head in an immediate reflection of your own reaction. “sorry baby, can’t, you taste s’good, don’t wanna…”

neither of you are in your right mind, but choso especially. when you cry out from orgasm for the first time, he barely takes note, his tongue on your clit never letting up as he brings two fingers to the entrance of your weeping cunt. the other hand previously on your thigh is now shoved into his boxers, and he’s fisting himself just as quickly as his fingers begin to plow your pussy. 

he’s killing you, but you love it. his brown eyes peek up in between your legs, and you just catch his expression, pupils dilated with lust as he watches you twitch above him. he mumbles something onto your clit before he’s licking and kissing it again, and you begin to think you might actually die. 

“c’mon, baby,” he groans, hips thrusting forward into his palm as he continues to eat. “c’mon baby, gimme another one– fuck, please, please…”

“choso, i can’t…” you truly believe that, given the way he’s already on his way to giving you another orgasm in the short span of five minutes. but he needs it so bad, needs you to cum for him so bad that he speeds up, thumb now joining his tongue to stimulate your clit in unison. “choso!”

“that’s it, baby, that’s it, oh, she’s close, isn’t she?” you can barely believe that he’s treating your pussy like its own person, but fuck is it turning you on. you hiccup pitiful whimpers as your thighs begin to tremble again, knees closing inwards and trapping choso’s head in between your legs.

if he were to die in this position, he wouldn’t mind. your release sprays his lips in repeated spurts, juices dribbling down his chin and some even dripping onto the flared head of his cock. it’s that which tips choso over the edge, and he’s spurting ropes onto the carpet, his own eyes finding the back of his head rapidly as his nose jerks against your clit.

“baby…” he stares down at the mess he’s made on the floor and then back at you, who’s laying spread eagle on the couch, chest rapidly rising and falling. “you gotta sit on my face next time.”

PREVIOUS : SURVIVAL ft. sniper mask NEXT : INKED ft. suguru geto

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© choslut 2024 — do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission.

[imaginedisish]

Hungry Like the Wolf (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Loved this request. Thank you so much anon! Here is the *jealous sex* with Logan. Inspired by "Hungry Like the Wolf" by Duran Duran. Enjoy!

Summary: You're cornered by a scum-bag frat-boy while on a mission in a club, and Logan gets possessive, deciding he needs to remind everyone who you're really with.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!!! Oral (f!receiving), fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up), rough/jealous sex, jealous!Logan, softdom!Logan, implied!age gap, creepy unnamed OC who doesn't fuck off, Logan gets a little (very) possessive, breeding kink?(if you squint), mention of alcohol, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 3,513

This has to be the most ridiculous mission Charles has ever sent the team on. 

Music pulses through your body, the bass of the song shaking the dance floor and the walls of the club. Everything feels blurred, unstable, just out of your grasp. Colored lights flash rapidly, and you look around hoping to find Logan out of the corner of your eye. Naturally, he’s nowhere to be seen, and neither is the rest of the team. 

“A club? You’re sending us to get information from a club?” Logan spat, furrowing his brows. 

Charles tilted his head to the side, taking a deep breath. “I assure you all, this is well thought out. The information on the sentinels will be placed by the informant on a napkin underneath a martini at the bar at promptly 12:45 AM.”

Logan shook his head, and Scott scoffed. “What is it, big guy? Afraid to have a little fun for once?” “Shut the fuck up, four eyes,” Logan said back. You couldn’t help but laugh at his gruffness, at the way he put Scott in his place. 

“Enough,” Charles commanded. “The club is called Nightmoves. Be there by 12:20 AM, no later. Is that understood?” Charles looked to you, Scott, Jean, Logan, and Jubilee individually, and waited for each of you to nod. 

“Fine,” Logan huffed. 

But now you’re here, alone, somehow separated from the team. You look at the watch on your wrist: 12:44 AM. Shit, you think to yourself, glancing at the bar. You see a hooded figure alone on the far-left side, and you start to make your way over. The person picks up a martini glass, places a new napkin underneath, and walks away. You look back down at your watch: 12:45 AM. 

You rush over to the bar, pick up the martini glass, and grab the napkin. The white, thick paper has small numbers scrawled on the back of it in neat, black ink—a set of coordinates. You smile, folding the napkin carefully, and stuffing it into the front pocket of your leather pants. 

“Hi there,” an unfamiliar, male voice calls from behind you. You turn around to find a young, 20-something-year-old frat boy ogling you, his eyes trailing up and down your body. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before. Would’ve remembered.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes and smile politely instead. “First time here,” you shout over the music. “And probably my last. I’m heading out, so if you’ll excuse me—” 

“Let me buy you a drink,” he cuts you off, stepping closer to you. 

You take a step back, bumping into the counter of the bar. “I’m alright. Really, I’m not staying—”

“Aw come on, I don’t bite,” he persists. “Unless that’s what you’re into.”

You scoff, disgusted. “Listen, and fucking trust me when I say this, I am not into you. Got it?”

“Hard to get, I like that.” You audibly groan at his ridiculous, disgusting comment, trying to step towards the edge of the bar to make your escape. But he reaches his arm out, his knuckles brushing against your bare shoulder. “You know you want me, baby. Don’t try to—”

The man stops short, his jaw dropping. You take another step to the side, bumping into someone unmistakably warm and familiar. “I think she’s made herself clear, bub,” Logan says from behind you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and tugging you in closer. 

“A-and who are you?” The man rolls his eyes. “Her father or something?”

“Fuck off, bub,” Logan growls, backing you away from the man. “You’re a disrespectful piece of shit. She told you no, and yet you kept badgering my girl.” 

The man swallows harshly, wracking his brain for something to say, for some excuse. “W-well maybe she wanted it!”

“Wanted it?” You groan, rolling your eyes. “Fucking prick.” Logan tugs you away, flipping the guy off with his claw. The frat boy responds by yelling Fucking freaks! shrilly over the synth-pop blasting through the speakers. 

“You okay?” Logan asks, his lips at the shell of your ear as he guides you through the club. “Did he hurt you? Do you need anything?”

“I’m fine, really,” you assure. “Just a fucking weirdo.” But Logan isn’t letting up. His arm is wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you close while guiding you through the crowded club. “I-I got the napkin,” you say, but Logan doesn’t answer. Just when you think he’s heading out the door, he takes a sharp left towards a dimly lit hallway.

He lets go of his grip on your waist, reaching for your hand instead, his fingers intertwining with yours. He doesn’t say a word as he walks past a set of doors—the bathrooms, the coat room, and an office. He looks behind him before trying the knob of a closed door. The knob twists and Logan pushes the door open, pulling you inside with him. 

“Logan, what are you—”

He shoves you against the door as the room envelops you in darkness, his hands fumbling on either side of your head for a light switch. There’s a click, and the light switches on, revealing a spacious broom closet. Logan cages you in, his chest heaving, his forehead pressing against yours. 

You bring your hands up to his neck, but he grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head. “Lo,” you whisper, his lips just inches from yours. You can see the jealousy in his eyes, the possessiveness, the protectiveness. He knows you can handle yourself—knows that you’re even more powerful than he is. And Logan isn’t normally the jealous type—he trusts you endlessly. But something set him off tonight—he’s almost feral. He works his jaw, looking down at you under dark, lust-filled eyes. He grips your wrists tightly.  

“Need you now, pretty girl,” he growls. “Nobody touches you but me.” His lips capture yours, hungry, needy, desperate. He’s swallowing you whole. “My girl.” His teeth graze your bottom lip. Everything is rushed and hazy, rough and impatient. “Fucking mine.” 

“Yours,” you mumble against his lips. “Only yours.”

One of his hands releases its hold on your wrists and slides down your body, toying with the straps of your tank top. “Gonna fuck you, pretty girl,” Logan husks, his fingertips trailing across your collarbone, teasingly tugging at the neckline of your top. “You want that?” “Y-yes,” you stutter, your knees buckling as he palms your breasts, massaging gently, brushing over your nipples. “Please.”

 His hand glides down to the hem at the bottom of your top, slipping underneath. His fingers trail over your bare skin, across your stomach, and up to your breasts. He smirks darkly at the realization that you aren’t wearing a bra. He hums, pulling your shirt up the rest of the way, revealing your chest to him. 

“So fucking beautiful,” he praises, teasing your nipples with one hand while the other still pins your wrists tightly against the door. “Want everyone to know who you belong to,” he husks, pinching a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and then repeating on the other side. 

“Y-you,” you moan, rocking your hips against Logan’s, searching for friction, for some kind of relief. “Always want you.” You grind down on his thigh impatiently. 

“Need me that bad, huh?” Logan teases, pushing his hips against yours. You can feel his erection straining through the denim of his jeans. “Don’t think I’m too old for you?” He asks, half serious. “Don’t think that guy can fuck you better than me?”

“N-no,” you stammer, your chest heaving against his. “Th-that guy was an idiot,” you breathe, struggling to find your words as Logan’s hand slips down your body, suddenly palming your heat. “I just want you, Logan.”

His fingers brush over your all too-clothed cunt, toying with you. “I know, darlin’,” he soothes. His hand reaches up to the waistband of your pants, working at your button and zipper. He lets go of his grasp around your wrist as he drops to his knees. His fingers hook into the waistband of your leather pants, pulling them and your panties down with one fluid motion. He spreads your legs with the palms of his hands as he settles between your thighs. 

“Lo,” you whine, his face so close to your cunt that you can feel his every breath. A shiver runs down your spine, anticipation and heat growing in your already aching core. “Please,” you beg. “Need you, always need—”

And then he’s lapping at your clit, burying his face inside your cunt. His tongue laves through your folds, savoring you, exploring you. “Tastes so good, beautiful,” Logan mumbles against you. “Always so sweet, so perfect.”

You curse under your breath, holding back your moans as Logan’s hand trails up your inner thigh, climbing towards your folds. His teeth graze your clit as he pulls the bud between his lips and sucks roughly. His fingertips nudge your slit open, spreading your slick. 

“Wanted to fuck you on that bar,” Logan husks. He finally thrusts two fingers deep inside you, down to his knuckles. “Wanted everyone to know who you’re with, who makes you feel good.” He slides all the way out only to shove his fingers back in. 

“F-fuck,” you whimper as Logan pumps in and out. “Logan.”

“That’s right, pretty girl,” Logan grunts against you, his tongue drawing tight circles around your clit. “Wanna hear you say my name again.”

“L-Logan,” you pant, his thrusts growing faster, his fingers dragging along your inner walls, hitting that sweet spot deep inside every time. He takes your clit back into his mouth, sucking roughly again. You bite your lip, holding back your moans. 

But Logan notices. His tongue slows to a stop, his fingers suddenly still inside you. He looks up at you, squirming against him, searching for relief, and he smirks. “No holding back, princess,” he demands, watching your hips rock against his fingers. “Wanna hear you. Want everyone to hear how good I make you feel.”

You nod, swallowing harshly as his fingers pull out, adding a third finger as he slams back into you. “Fuck!” You groan. Logan’s tongue laps at your clit again, flicking the bud mercilessly. His name falls from your lips like a chant, a prayer, a hymn. 

“Doing so good for me,” Logan praises, the vibrations of his voice rocking against your core. “Such a good fucking girl.” Your walls flutter around his fingers as he sinks deeper, still working you open with every thrust. 

“L-Lo, I’m so close,” you groan. His teeth graze your clit as he smiles against you, taking the bud between his lips and sucking again—longer this time, and harder. You can feel yourself slipping, falling apart under his touch. “Please, I wanna come, Lo.”

“Yeah?” He mumbles, his gaze finding yours. You can see the starvation in his eyes, that possessiveness from before. “Wanna feel you come on my fingers, pretty girl.” Your muscles contract at his words, your knees buckling as pleasure courses through your veins. “Wanna taste it.” He pumps in and out, harder, deeper, his tongue still drawing those delicious, tight circles around your clit. 

His voice darkens. “Wanna be the only one who ever gets to do this to you.”

And then your orgasm crashes into you, wave after wave, destroying you and building you back up. It’s overwhelming—your legs trembling as Logan continues to lap at you, to consume you, to commit your taste to memory. You cry out his name as you come, melting into the door as he works you through it. 

Logan’s pumps slow until his fingers are still inside you. He gently pulls out, leaving you feeling empty. His tongue licks long stripes through your folds and up to your clit, savoring every last drop of you. 

“Lo,” you whine, bringing your hands down to his head. You tangle your fingers into his hair, and he hums against you. “Lo,” you call again, and he finally looks up, his face pulling away from your cunt. “Need you now.” 

Logan smirks, standing up and unbuckling his belt. “Need you too, beautiful,” he huffs, letting the belt fall to the floor as he works at his button and zipper. “Always fucking need you.” He tugs his jeans and his boxers down his legs. He drags his beater up and over his head, casting it to the ground. 

He suddenly hoists you up, leaning you against the door, his hand gripping your ass, the tip of his cock nudging against your entrance. “Please,” you beg, trying to sink down onto him, but he holds you back, pushing your hips into the door. 

“So fucking impatient,” Logan teases, suddenly thrusting into you, bottoming out, splitting you open. 

Your arms wrap around his back, and he presses his forehead to yours. He’s deep inside you, unmoving. “Lo,” you whine. “P-please, m-move.”

“Wanna feel you first,” he grunts, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “So fucking tight,” he murmurs, his lips meeting yours again. “So warm, fuck.” He finally pulls out and thrusts all the way back in, somehow deeper this time. 

“Logan,” you moan, digging your nails into his back. “Fuck me, please.”

He slides out, his cock dragging along your walls, and slams back in. “Like that?” He grunts, filling you up. “Want me to fuck you into this door?” You hum a soft yes, and Logan rams into you, his hips snapping roughly. 

“It feels so good,” you whimper, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing along the walls of the closet. “Only want you, Lo.”

“I know, pretty girl,” Logan soothes, his free hand slipping between your bodies and finding your clit. He begins to draw tight, rapid circles around the bud. “F-fuck, you’re mine. This is my fucking pussy, isn’t it?” “Yes,” you whisper as he fucks into you. “All yours. Always.”

Logan groans as he thrusts deeper, harder. His pace is insatiable, unrelenting, frantic. His thumb strokes your clit, adding more pressure with every swipe. You know he’d do anything to get you there, to have you falling apart in his arms. You know he wants to make you come again and again—to prove to you that he’s all you need—to make you feel good. No, better than good. Whole. Perfect. Satisfied. 

Your walls flutter around him as he flicks your overstimulated clit. “A-already close,” you whine as Logan plunges into you, his hips snapping against yours. 

“I know, beautiful,” he coos, pinching your clit. “Can feel you squeezing me.” He thrusts in and out, pushing you closer to that edge. Your walls flutter again, and Logan bites your pulse point, licking soothingly once he’s finished. “Let go for me, pretty girl.” It’s a demand, not a request. “Wanna feel you come.” 

It’s all liquid heat and warm thick honey, the tension snapping as you come undone again. But you know Logan isn’t finished with you yet. You know there’s more to come. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you moan a string of curses and Logan’s name. 

“That’s it,” Logan says softly, pressing a kiss to that spot just underneath your ear. “Taking me so well, letting me make you feel good.” His thumb is still on your clit, drawing those tight little circles while his hips pound into you. “I know you’ve got one more in you, princess. Know you can take it.”

“It’s s-so much,” you choke, the tension already building back up at the bottom of your belly. “I-I…” You trail off, fucked out beyond belief. He’s still splitting you open with every thrust, filling you to the brim. 

“It’s okay, princess,” Logan whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. The intimacy sends a pulse of pleasure to your core. “I’ve got you, just wanna make you feel good.” You curse under your breath as he ruts into you, working at your clit.  

You know you can’t last much longer. Not with the way his eyes watch every moan escape from your lips, or the way his hips roll against yours, searching for more, always finding a way to sink deeper. He wants all of you, always. And you’re more than happy to give yourself to him time and time again. 

“You feel so good,” you whine, your muscles contracting and releasing as his cock pumps in and out. “Only you, Lo.”

“F-fuck,” Logan moans, his pace faltering, his hips stuttering. He flicks your clit, edging you along. You know he’s close, his cock throbbing inside you, twitching as your walls squeeze him. “Wanna fill you up,” he husks, shoving himself deeper. “Wanna make you mine.”

“I’m all yours,” you whimper. Logan pinches your clit, circling roughly, and the current drags you under. It’s more intense this time, stars flooding your vision as you let go. Your orgasm wracks through your body, leaving you a quivering mess as Logan finishes inside you, painting your walls. 

You share one breath, your chests heaving together as Logan’s cock stalls inside you. He strokes your clit as he fills you up, riding out your orgasm, easing you down from your high. His fingertips slip away from your bud and trail up your body, his arm wrapping around your back. He pulls you into his chest, holding you close, his cock still half-hard inside you. 

“I love you,” he whispers into the crook of your neck, his possessiveness and jealousy are replaced by the softness he reserves just for you. “So fucking much.”

“I love you too, Lo,” you whisper back. You can hear the bass of the music pouring through the club, and you suddenly remember the mission at hand. “We should go. The others are probably worried.”

“Don’t care about the others,” Logan mumbles, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Just care about you.”

You smirk, shaking your head, trying to wiggle yourself free from Logan’s iron grip. “Really, Lo. We need to leave. I have the napkin in my pocket. It’s the coordinates to—”

He cuts you off, pressing a kiss to your lips as he settles you back down. He pulls up his jeans and boxers, starting the process of putting everything back in its proper place.

“Relax,” he mutters, sinking down to the ground. He grabs a roll of paper towels from a nearby rack and rips off a sheet, cleaning your inner thighs. He throws the sheet into the garbage and pulls your pants and panties back up your legs. 

Logan tugs your tank top down over your breasts and swipes your hands away as you reach to button and zipper your pants back up. He takes over the task for you, bringing his hands to your face once he’s done. His thumbs gently brush underneath your eyes, likely clearing away whatever mascara or eyeliner smeared while he was fucking you. 

“You okay?” He asks once he’s done, his arms wrapping around your back and pulling you into his chest. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, letting him hold you for a second before slipping your hand into your front pocket to make sure the napkin is still there. You let out a sigh of relief when you brush your fingertips against the coarse paper. “Never better.”

“Good,” Logan whispers, letting you go and grabbing his belt and beater from off the floor. He pulls the beater up and over his head, and then slides the belt through the loops of his jeans, securing the buckle. He grabs your hand, his eyes looking deeply into yours. “Ready?” He asks, and you nod. Logan twists the knob of the door and pushes it open, the pulsing music and lights of the club flooding your senses.

You walk towards the entrance, and find Scott, Jubilee, and Jean surveying the club, likely looking for you and Logan. 

“Let’s go,” Logan shouts over the music, getting the team’s attention.  Scott steps towards Logan. “Where did you go?” He yells. “We were getting worried.”

Logan reaches into your front pocket, and you can feel the heat rising to your chest as he squeezes your thigh and pulls the paper out. “She got the napkin. That’s all that matters.” 

You know Scott is rolling his eyes underneath those glasses. Jean smirks and shakes her head, and Jubilee laughs. You make your way to the exit, pushing through the doors and into the quiet of the parking lot. 

“You know, Logan,” Scott chides as you walk to the car. “I heard some guy talking about a freak flipping him off with a silver claw. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” He asks, condescension and sarcasm heavy in his voice. 

You look at Logan and he smirks. “Had to put an asshole in his place,” he says nonchalantly, his arm wrapping around your waist. He presses a kiss to your temple. “My girl,” he whispers against the shell of your ear so only you can hear. 

His. 

Nobody else’s. 

tags: @galacticglitterglue @buck-angel31 @alsoprettyinpink @annabelldoesstuffz @starrdustss @figsnpassionfruits @spiderset @ilysmdovie12 @prettyseaveins @silversprings-mp3 @fanfic-writing-barbie @movhoney @wittyjasontodd @theasiaabattoir @manipulatour @pedrohoe04 @derbygracie @honeyfewr @evasmlp @rammakela @cosmiccandydreamer (if I forgot to add you I'm so sorry)

[irndad]

don't date coworkers- s.r.

a/n: i literally wrote this very fast and also i hope you like it pls go easy on me!!! reader has a policy they don't date coworkers. spencer is so angsty abt that !! also sorry for dropping a new fic at 2am LOL wc: 1.7k

She’s really, really good at talking to people. 

It’s one of the many traits Spencer adores about her. She moves through crowds with ease, and she can charm her way into any piece of information from whatever city cop they need a favor from. She integrated into the team faster than anyone could’ve expected. This is a strength not all profilers have- they know what it takes to know what makes someone appealing, but rare is the ability to be as charismatic and charming as she is. 

She’s good at talking to him.

She’s worked at the BAU for about a year now. 13 months, 7 days and 8 hours since she walked through the doors of the bullpen for the first time, beaming at him for the very first time. Give or take. 

Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if everyone knew that he was in love with her. He’s halfway certain she does, and is being too polite to mention it. Normally, Spencer is incredibly regimented about boundaries. While the BAU is his family, and there’s no real way to deny that, he knows that he’s less than ideal to go out with. He’s stocky and he never cuts his hair (even though she swears it’s cute longer) and he’s an awkward guy- gangly and tall and just ill-fitting to be part of the scenery of her life. 

It’s a Friday, and a rainy one at that. It’s one of the blessed ones where they don’t really have a case, just paperwork to catch up on, reports and her desk faces a window. 

Normally, when Spencer gets his work done (a good four hours before everyone else on a paperwork-only day), he’d head out. Catch up on whatever Russian novel he’s been chipping away at- but she’s here, and he’s made her favorite tea. 

“I thought you could use a treat,” he says, walking over to her desk. She looks up at him, brushing overgrown bangs, “It’s not really a great one, but I’ll get you some scones on the way to mine, yeah?”

She looks up at him, dropping her pen and focusing entire energy on him. He feels a bit overwhelmed, like an ant under a magnifying glass. 

“Did you know that I adore you, Spence?” 

He is very much not aware. No amount of her saying it will ever make him know. She takes a long sip from the mug. He knows how much honey she likes in it. He studies how she looks, eyes closed serenely, completely invested in what he’s given her. 

“You’ll be taking her home, pretty boy?” Morgan snickers, in a not altogether unkind manner. 

“Fuck off,” she says kindly, not taking her eyes off of Spencer as she rebuffed Morgan’s teasing. 

“Easy, easy,” Morgan laughs, “I’ll leave your boyfriend alone.”

If she has anything to say to that, it doesn’t come out then. 

He’s still bright red, though. Morgan is amused, and Spencer knows that she really, truly adores Morgan. Spencer loves him too, but it would be nice if he laid off the jokes. 

She doesn’t date coworkers. 

He knows this because of the first time they’d met, when he’d been walking in carrying a croissant for Garcia and a coffee for JJ, and saw what can only be described as a truly ridiculously beautiful woman in the bullpen. 

She’d been leaned back, smiling openly as Morgan tossed some random pick-up line towards her. He remembers it now like he can still hear it, her lilting lovely voice carrying just the right amount of warmth to make this not sting, or at least sting as little as possible. 

“I’m sorry, Derek,” she had said, “I make it a point not to date coworkers.” 

Which of course is fine. She can date whoever she wants, and it’s a good policy to have personally. And Spencer’s never really be the kind of guy who excelled at getting dates. He knew from the first minute that he saw her that even if she didn’t think that way… well, it wouldn’t be him, who she picked. 

Now, they are very close. So close that she drives him home from work every Friday. Which usually includes staying at his shitty apartment and watching VHS tapes of documentaries and Doctor Who. 

He wants to kiss her every Friday. All, the time, really. It’s kind of plaguing him. Clearly, she likes hanging out with him. Something about him is appealing. It’s foolish to assume that it’s more than friends, especially for someone like him to be with someone like her. 

She doesn’t date coworkers. 

“I made sure the film tonight has subtitles!”

“Are you saying film because this film is foreign, Spence?”

“I promise it’s worth it!” He says excitedly, “And they’re really done well. You won’t have to have me whisper the translations to you in real time!”

“I didn’t mind that,” She laughs then, a real laugh, “but I’m glad we’re getting to hang out tonight.”

It’s funny- they’ve done this so, so many times, but he never stops being thrilled. 

___________________________________

Sometimes, when the summer air is forgiving enough, they walk home from the office. She takes the train in, and they walk back to his place. Tonight is one of these nights, and god- she looks lovely. She’s tied her blazer around her waist, and the sunset hits her face in that gorgeous baroque painting kind of way. 

“You’re very pretty,” he hears himself say before he can stop it. He’s endlessly pleased when she preens at the praise. 

“You’re not so bad yourself, Doctor,” she says, shoving her hands into her pockets, a nervous gesture. He wants to hold those hand, intertwine her lovely delicate fingers with his bony wispy fingers. 

“You’re being nice to me,” he says, looking down at his shoes. They’re stupid. He should wear loafers, or some other shoe that doesn’t make him like half-child half-geek. 

“I’m being accurate, actually,” she says she bumps his shoulder. 

She’d be a wonderful girlfriend. He lives in the world this can happen quite often, in his fantasy. She laughs at his jokes and tells him he’s kind, and good, and she means it. He’s lucky to have this much of her- more than anyone else on the team! Spencer knows he’s her favorite. The way she’s looking at him now, how she give-up her Fridays to spend with him, on his ratty couch, how she always listens. Whenever they're both on the jet and he falls asleep, he always wakes up with a blanket on him. She's so good at loving people.

Being her favorite on the team does not mean he’s in the running to be a boyfriend. But he’d fucking want to be. He’d be a good boyfriend. Spencer, he’s gone so far for her. He fantasizes about getting her flowers that have symbolic meaning.

“Are you okay, boy-genius?”

“I’m better than okay. Do you want popcorn?”

She wants popcorn. He sets the movie up, and she gets comfortable on his couch, curling up with his purple felt blanket, and his mind betrays him with unhelpful images of what it might look like if she was his, if this is what he came home to. 

Don't picture welcome home kisses, or movie nights or being wanted. Don't.

It’s very, very hard to focus on the movie.  

She’s touchy, with him. He’s not sure if it’s because she could never see him as her boyfriend, but he’s grateful as she leans her head on his. She smells like peonies. When the credits roll, they stay like that for minute- her head on his shoulder and one of her legs thrown over his. 

He wonders, not for the first time, if she feels the same way about him. If things were just..different, then they’d be kissing under the haze of his TV right now, if he’d know what that chapstick she carries with her every day tastes like. 

“Do you ever wonder what it’d be like if we met under different circumstances?” he says, once time passes and he speaks instead of thinking.

“Hmm?” She hummed, relaxed eyes flitting their gaze over to him.

“Like, at a bar or something.”

“But you hate bars.”

“That’s why I said or something!”

Her lip juts out adorably, “But then I wouldn’t get to see you in your element.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, resting his neck on the top of the cushion. The AC is a little too much in the room. He wonders if she’s cold. “But who knows. Maybe we’d date, or something.”

It’s the dumbest thing he’s ever fucking said. Both because it was a dumb way to say it, but because it was an advance. He feels white hot shame lick at his spine when he looks at her, and hears her laugh. 

“I don’t think so, Spence.” 

“No,” shitshitshit, “I didn’t mean-“

“I mean, if you don’t want to date me now, I don’t think meeting at like, Whole Foods would’ve been the difference maker.”

It’s then he hears it- the piece he couldn’t place in her voice, when she gets like this. It’s being resigned. 

“What are you talking about?”

“C’mon, Spence,” she says, another bitter chuckle coming through, “You know how I feel. I haven’t exactly beens subtle.”

“But you don’t date coworkers. You have a rule.”

She looks at him with no recognition of what he’s saying. 

“No, because you told Morgan that, it’s the first thing I ever heard you say.”

“Yeah, but-“

“And yes, okay, you’ve been my favorite person almost as long as I’ve known you and yes, I would fucking love for you to be my girlfriend, but that was your rule!”

“You want me to be your girlfriend?”

“Obviously!”

He doesn’t get the chance to say anything else before, well- before she’s kissing him. More aggressive than that, really. Crawled onto his lap, arms around his neck, and where she leads Spencer is all too happy to follow. His body is not great at moving on instinct, but his whole nervous system feels alive- the weight of her in his lap, the feel of her waist under his fingers, the way he’s allowed this. It feels like such a pleasure, hedonistic in a way he’s never, ever been allowed to experience.

“You had a rule,” he says dumbly when she pulls away. His lips are wet. He’d like to go back to kissing, thank you very much. 

“You’re the exception, to every rule, Spencer.”

When he kisses her again (which he’s allowed to do now, holy fuck) Spencer decides he’s going to spend the rest of all time earning that status. 

[entitled-fangirl]

I love hearing about your day.

Felix Catton x reader

SMUT

Summary: Felix and the reader enjoy some time together in the bath as she tells him about her day. Or... tries to.

Words: 1,064

Warnings: Smut, fingering, teasing, overstimulating, cursing

Masterlist

18+ PLEASE

.........................................................................

Felix lay in the bath, his body entirely relaxed. His head laid back, resting on the rim of the tub. It had been a long day.

His girlfriend opened the door with a loud creak. She rested against the doorframe, simply watching him with an admiral look in her eye. How could she not? Felix was beautiful. His body, his eyes, his soul- all the definition of beautiful.

His head turned to look at her, a smirk pulling at his lips lazily. “Care to join me, angel?”

It was her turn to smile now. What a ridiculous question. He could ask anything of her and without question she’d do it. 

She took small steps towards the tub, kneeling in front of it. “D’You think it’s big enough for both of us?”

He moved his head back against the tub, looking at the ceiling. “One way to find out.”

She let out a small laugh before she stood, slowly stripping herself of her clothes. He turned his head, watching with a soft gaze. How he adored her, too.

He held out a hand, which she graciously took, helping her into the bath. He maneuvered her body to where her back rested against his strong chest.

A deep sigh escaped her lips at the feeling of the warm water and his warm embrace.

He smiled, moving his head down to kiss her shoulder gently. His lips trailed up her neck. Her whole body shuddered as he placed a kiss behind her ear.

She felt his smile against her neck as he began to speak, “Tell me about your day, angel.”

She shifted. “Well, you were there for most of it.”

He kissed her shoulder again, his left hand moving to hold the side of her thigh. “Don’t care. I wanna know.”

She nods, focusing on her words, “I, I uh… woke up with you. Breakfast. Then I went back to our room to change. Terribly hard to pick which bikini to wear…”

He hums softly against her neck to show he’s listening. His right hand trailing down from her bicep to her hip.

She took this as a cue to keep going, “I picked the red one. It’s my favorite. I like the way the bottoms fit. And then met back with you at the pond, of course…”

His hand continued trailing down to her upper thigh, her breathing starting to quicken on instinct.

“…I worried so much about what I was to wear and I didn’t even swim. But I still think I-,” her voice trailed off in a quick breath in as Felix’s hand now rested over her core.

His lips neared her ear in a whisper, “Keep going.”

She took a deep breath, her jaw clenched. “After that, I spend my time in the library reading…”

He kissed her ear, his middle finger gently touching her slit. “What did you read? Tell me.”

“I was… I was reading.. I read…” her train of thought was gone.

He continued to tease her. “What, angel? Something wrong? I just want to hear about your day.”

She mouth closed as she let out a hum. “I was reading ’Pride and Prejudice.’”

He took that as an answer. “Never read it. Tell me.”

She knew he didn’t care about the plot. He just wanted to see her fall apart. But she didn’t care either. Anything to get him to touch her. “It’s, uh, a love story…”

“Mm-hmm. And?” His middle finger moved up and down at a constant pace, waiting for the moment to strike.

God, he was insufferable with his teasing. “The woman is poor and the man is… rich, but he has a temper about… about him… he’s… quite…quite brooding…”

He lets a soft breath out. “And they fall in love?”

Her right hand gently grips his wrist as he continues to toy with her. “Yes, they-, “ her words gone as a moan left her mouth, his finger now inside her. 

He chuckles softly at her reaction, “Don’t stop, angel. I want to hear what happens.”

His finger starts to pump in and out of her as her grip on his wrist becomes iron. Her other hand reaches up to grip the side of the bathtub.

“There’s a… a ball they attend.. and…and… God, Felix…,” she whines, her head falling back to rest on his shoulder.

“Fuck, angel,” he teased, “You don’t even know what it’s about?”

“I do. I do. I just…” 

“Just what?”

“I can’t… I can’t breath when.. when I’m around you…”

His movements stop. The only sound heard in the bathroom is her soft pants as she tries to catch her breath again. “Fuck, Felix,” she pants under her breath. She can practically feel the smile he has on his face. 

“I love hearing about your day.”

And he pushes in two fingers.

She falls apart, a whine coming from her throat at the feeling. Her body rests against his chest for support. They both know she wouldn’t be able to support herself even if she tried at this point.

He continues it for her, his voice in her ear, as he moves his fingers back and forth into her. “They go to a ball. They dance together. She realizes he’s not a bad guy, and he realizes there’s nothing wrong with her. Does that sound right, angel?”

She can’t speak. Her whines and moans are all he gets from her as his digits move at a constant speed. He chuckles, “Need me to stop, love?”

Her grip tightens on his wrist. “Please… Please, Felix.. don’t… ung… don’t stop…,” she moans, her voice echoing off the bathroom walls. 

“Alright. Anything for you.” His thumb reaches up to rub small circles on her clit.

She can’t handle it anymore. Tears spring to her eyes, her grip on him turning her knuckles white. Her back arches. “I can’t…” 

She’s overstimulated, and Felix grins at it. He places kisses on her neck and shoulders again gently, “Let go then, angel. I’ve got you. Just let go.”

Her orgasm comes with a small cry from her, his thumb continues to move on her clit to prolong the feeling. She pants hard, her chest expanding with every breath. After a few moments, her body falls limp against his again, exhausted. 

He chuckles, kissing the top of her head, “I love hearing about your day.”

[2tarbell]

NOW — KOOK!READER

rafe always decides when the party’s over…

(drabble. © 2tarbell 2024)

“oh my fuckin’ god! i love this song—!”

the night was young and yours… or at least that’s what you thought.

in reality, it was well past 1 am but the crowd was as lively as ever. drinks and other substances flowing almost endlessly. you had been wasted since at least midnight, and weren’t ready to stop just yet.

dancing with your girls, batting hazy eyes at rafe kook boys, glittering smile and necklace enticing everyone. you were the life of the party all in pink.

rafe was paying attention to you the most, though. after all, you did arrive together; it was his responsibility to keep an eye on your twirling form as your best friend. so he spent the night leaning against the wall, only turning away to snort a line or two. talking passively with topper and kelce about whatever the fuck. doin’ nothing that would get him too fucked up. nah, you were sloshed enough for the both of you. he’s just surprised you haven’t broken an ankle in those ridiculous kitten heels.

he didn’t want to, as you’ve said before, ‘dull your sparkle’. but rafe felt his patience wearing thin at the sight of a dick in a polo letting his hand rest just too close to the edge of your skirt. he was painfully sober and made up his mind when you giggled and placed a hand on the guys chest. time to go.

“yo, rafe, what about—“

“figure it out, top. got shit t’do.”

they’d for sure get on his ass about ditching them, but rafe didn’t give a fuck. trying to intercept the douche who’s obviously gotta be stupid to try anything with you. you’re stupider for encouraging it. it’s like you never learn.

you felt him before you saw him; a large hand curling around your hipbone, yanking you back. a slurred giggle fell from your glossed lips before you realized what was going on. your smile quickly turned into a pout when you heard rafe shooing the guy away.

maybe he was a bit sleazy and immature, but you were grown and if you had wanted to sleep with him, whose business was it but your own? obviously rafes.

“nah, she’s not interested, man. get lost—“

you huffed dramatically, trying to wiggle away from your taller friend. this wasn’t the first time he’s cockblocked you.

before you could protest, the frat guy was stumbling off, having lost interest at having to put up a fight. if the pussy wasn’t easily attainable, they never stuck around. not at these parties anyways.

your jaw was dropped, brows furrowed in annoyance. a whine fell from your mouth, “rafe!”

“ladies— time to go, doll face. now.”

you whined again incoherently. he only hummed, smiling charmingly at your girlfriends. they only swooned and giggled to each other, it made you scowl. you turn and push him back, or try to. but your manicured hand only puts a little pressure on his chest, you too drunk and rafe too strong. his dumb little smirk lighting a spark low in your abdomen, something you felt often when looking at him. but mostly, you felt drunk petulance.

“you cunt—“

“hey, watch your fuckin’ mouth, yeah? dunno who y’think you’re talkin’ to right now—” rafe held tight to your arm, leaning down and speaking right up against your ear. it made goosebumps raise and you couldn’t help but lean into him, resting a hand on his chest.

focus!

“why’d you do that? i liked him!” you complained, stomping a foot in emphasis.

his scoff irritated you to no end, almost like he didn’t realize that he ruined your chances of getting laid. again. or maybe he just didn’t care.

“yeah? sure you did, princess.”

“i did! y’not my boyfriend, ‘m allowed to—”

you were so cute, really. it’s why rafe let you whine and bitch to him, why he kept you around. but times like this, he really wished you used your head more. he wasn’t your boyfriend, and you’re not his girlfriend, but what did that have to do with anything?

“—and he liked your tits. probably wouldn’t have lasted long anyways. so— so, i did you a favor. yeah. how about a ‘thank you, rafe’? that’s not in your vocabulary, though, huh?”

his voice was scolding as he dragged you through the crowd of people. you struggled, wanting to stay and continue to enjoy the attention and festivities — someone’s birthday, you didn’t actually care about the details.

once rafe had you secluded in a hallway by the front door, you made a show of pushing him away. crossing your arms, breasts bulging through the pink ‘ALL THIS (and brains too).’ crop top you wore. rafe flickered his eyes down quickly, licking his lips before speaking in that familiar low drawl.

“don’t go throwin’ a fit, ‘m not in the mood.”

“but, rafe—“

“but, rafe—” he mocked you, grabbing your chin between his thumb and forefinger, “shut up, yeah?”

you glared up at him. who did he think he was? ruining your fun night like it was second nature. the worst part was, it was starting to become the norm. you couldn’t party without rafe coming in and sweeping you away, leaving an uncomfortably warm tingle in your heart.

he watched you, watched the haze of your eyes, the way they flit about all unfocused. you were so drunk. but still looked so pretty.

“we’re goin’ home, ‘kay? party’s over. so, i’ll give you a choice… mine or yours?”

rafe felt the moment you tensed up in preparation to whine. his hand held your jaw, squeezing your cheeks and prompting a squeak from your pink lips.

“…mine or yours? don’t make me pick for you.” his voice sent a chill down your spine. you bit your lip, feeling drunker under his unwavering gaze. eyes cementing you in place and making you feel so small.

“yours…” a whisper, barely audible. but rafe heard it and he smirked. god, that smirk.

he leaned in and pressed a hot kiss to your puckered lips, something he only did briefly and in the moments either of you were too intoxicated to ever bring it up again. ‘s’what best friends do, princess’ he’d say. but they didn’t. you both knew that. rafe pulled back with a smack, grinning at the way you leaned up for more.

“atta girl. not so hard, huh? c’mon.”

the walk to his truck with his hand on the back of your neck, leading you forward put you further into a daze. a warm, fuzzy version of you only rafe could bring out. not for long though, half the fun was in the tick of his jaw and narrowing blue eyes.

it wasn’t until he had you buckled in the passenger side seat, putting the large truck in reverse and resting a hand on the back of your seat, that you looked over at him. he was focused on backing out and you felt heat all over your body.

“hate you…”

his half hearted laugh made you smile, you looked out the window to quell the rapid beat of your heart. you had always liked his laugh.

one hand stayed on the wheel when he turned back to the front, the other resting on your thigh, where the hem of your miniskirt ended.

“yeah? you, uh— you wanted to go home with that asshole?”

you giggled lazily, feeling sleep pull at your eyelids. your head shakes from the quiet laughter, perfectly styled hair now frizzed up with fly aways. your french tipped fingers rested on top of his, squeezing playfully.

“mhm, jus’ wanted him to rip my clothes off and—“

“okay, okay, knock it off.” his voice was a gruff mumble, almost leaving you in stitches. it was almost too easy, rafe hated when you talked about boys. absolutely despised it and the way it made his skin crawl. you leaned against his arm, nuzzling into the firmness of his bicep, tits pressed against him.

rafe looked over at you, rolling his eyes and turning his hand to interlace your fingers gently. the words he whispered coming from a place of simultaneous adoration and exasperation, but you missed them, already snoozing lightly.

“fuckin’ brat…”

[porcalinecunt]

Question, what if there was Von & Wrio riding fem reader? Sandwichinh her as they use both her holes roughly?👀

𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐅𝐅!

🪽 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ if you were squished n stuffed by giant canine men ~ <3

·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐕𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐘𝐂𝐀𝐎𝐍 & 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

cw — mean dom! wriothesley. soft dom! von lycaon. double penetration. size kink. breeding. anal sex. mentions of knot. implied polyamory(?)

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : this was messily written since my last draft wasn’t saved ;-; so apologies if this ended up half baked nonie [frustrated noises]

you couldn’t get a breath in, not with two horny mutts pumping themselves in and out of your poor holes.

it was supposed to be plain, simple sex just to relieve von lycaon’s stresses. after all, being the strong-head of victoria’s housekeeping always takes a toll on him. whether taking on ethereals or watching over the young, impressionable maids. settling him down and doing all the work in pleasing him.

of course, your other lover couldn’t help himself. rudely interrupting the both of you while lycaon was balls deep inside you, undressing with a raging hard on. “what? can’t let you two have all the fun..” he chuckled.

now here you are, pressed between the two canines as they ravaged your pussy and ass at an animalistic pace.

“ah! s-slow down! plea..ahh..!”

you mewled, pleading falling on deaf ears as wriothesley gripped the back of your knees with lycaon squeezing the life out of your marked up thighs. your poor cunt, exposed and stuffed full by the duke’s ridiculous girth while the furry thiren anal fucked you.

“don’t tap out now, princess. not when you’ve been so so good to us..”

wriothesley groaned with a lustful grin, a fang could be seen peering through his lips. his pace was unforgiving, stretching your pussy out to it’s limit. you weakly lift your head up, watching the lewd scene play out in front of you. a creamy white ring already sat at the base, indicating your impending orgasm.

a large, furry paw grabbed the back of your head and forced it to face the man below you. the one stuffing your pretty little ass full of wolf cock and knot. “enjoying yourself? master y/n..?”

you nodded in response, lycaon leaning forward to capture your lips—or rather mouth—into a disgustingly passionate kiss. your eyes white from how far they rolled to the back of their heads as the thiren stuffed your mouth with his tongue.

“‘course she enjoys it..a good little lady like her would adore a dickin’ from us.” the duke chuckled, caging you between his scarred arms.

the sound of skin slapping against skin and your lover’s groans overwhelmed your head. stars filled your vision as an incoming orgasm took feeling from your legs. lycaon kept bullying his length into your tight ass, his knot pressing and growing against your sweetly sensative spot while he swallowed your mewls and begs to be bred full. your little brain was nothing but mush, only with the desire for your boys to stuff you full of cum until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“c-cumm..gonna cum!”

you sobbed, digging your nails into wriothesley’s biceps which forced a hiss through his sharp teeth. the more their cocks twitches, the harder you clenched around them, almost milking the two men till they’re fucking dry.

“woah woah..don’t clench like that baby or we’ll—fuck!” wriothesley abruptly groaned in your ear as ropes of white shot into your cunt, the sudden rush of warmth pushed out sounds that could’ve been straight out of porn. only more so when lycaon felt his own orgasm wash over him.

one final, and harsher, thrust snapped his cock deep in your ass. the sensation doubled the pleasure you were already drunk off of, it’s a shock you didn’t pass out.

“a-apologies master..i should’ve said something before—“

you pressed an intimate kiss onto the wolf’s nose, instantly shutting up whatever formalities he had. “no need, darling..” you spoke in a weak tone. the thiren wrapped his large, furry arms around your waist while the duke buried his face in your bruised up neck.

yet, the fun had only begun, as they haven’t even pulled out of your leaking holes. can’t waste a drop now, can you?

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[brokenmenswhore]

first | poly!marauders

pairing: poly!marauders (james, remus, & sirius) x fem!reader

summary: virginity loss trope :)

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), language, gender swapped dorcas cus i said so 🤷🏻‍♀️

────── ☾ ──────

“That’s ridiculous,” you said, body halting as the staircase began to shift beneath you, “and completely untrue.”

“Oh come on, you never do anything interesting! For your sake, it has to be true,” Sirius teased.

You turned to him, mouth open in offense. “I’m plenty interesting.”

“But not interesting enough to lose your virginity to Meadowes in the library during fourth year?” Remus raised an eyebrow.

“No! It didn’t happen!” you protested, “now please, let it go.”

“How would a rumor like that even get out if it isn’t true?” James asked genuinely.

“Probably because everyone knows Meadowes has the hots for her. Bet you he started it himself,” Remus answered, distaste evident in his voice.

“Are you three done now?” you asked, whispering the common room password and letting the boys in.

“So if it isn’t true, how did you lose it?” Sirius pressed.

You looked at him stunned, eyes wide in disbelief that he would ask you something like that out of the blue.

“Absolutely not,” you said, raising a finger toward him, “I’m not playing that game.”

“Oh come on!” Sirius raised his hands and smiled, “you’re no fun.”

“Yeah, now I’m curious,” James continued on, “if not Dorcas, who?”

You sighed, placing your books down and tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, turning toward them exasperated. “Why does it matter?”

“You know seventeen of the girls I’ve slept with by heart,” Sirius replied, “I’d say it’s only fair.”

“Sirius, you told me about seventeen of the girls you’ve slept with. Willingly. Without me asking. Ever,” you said, earning a laugh from James at your disgust.

They followed you up the stairs to your dorm, empty from everyone sneaking off to a party in the Ravenclaw common room that you were supposed to be getting ready for, but alas, you were late and distracted.

You sat down in front of your vanity mirror, ready to start applying makeup, when Remus placed a hand on the desk in front of you, leaning his face in close to you, his hair falling slightly in front of his face. He was completely in your personal space.

“Come on, Y/N, tell us who got to fuck you first.”

Remus’ voice was low, and his breath fanned your face as he spoke. You locked eyes with him, a sigh leaving your chest that you weren’t aware you were holding in. You were nervous to have him this close.

“No one has. Sorry to disappoint. Now drop it, will you?”

Remus didn’t move. You continued to look up into his eyes, your voice a little shaky, and you didn’t know what to do. You moved to get up, but Remus caught your chin between his fingers, pulling your attention back to him. “Meaning what?”

“Did you not hear me? Cus you’re like 6 inches away from me, so if you didn’t, you need to get your hearing checked,” you said, annoyed at your current predicament, just wanting to make the embarrassing conversation end. Remus finally let you stand, but Sirius and James were right behind you, stopping you from leaving the room. You opted to sit on your bed.

“You guys are insufferable.”

Sirius cleared his throat. “So you’re-“ he trailed off.

“A virgin, yes, wow, how crazy of me. You know, it’s not that weird, you all just have a personal body count higher than everyone at this school combined. And everyone else’s body count includes you. Can we please just forget about this?” you begged.

“Such attitude,” James teased, “from such a good girl.”

“Oh, so I’m a goodie two-shoes now that you’ve all discovered I’ve never had sex?”

“Kinda, yeah,” James giggled.

“Fuck you guys,” you sighed, partially lighthearted and partially annoyed, “it was my choice. You think I couldn’t have screwed Dorcas Meadowes in the library if I wanted to?”

No one had a response. Sirius’ nostrils flared, and Remus sighed. They almost seemed… jealous? at the thought of you and someone else.

You four were ridiculously close, anyone could see that, and you would be lying if you said you haven’t thought about them in that way, but you were best friends, and you didn’t want to risk ruining that.

“You ever think about, like, just doing it?” Sirius asked.

“What?” you replied.

“Do you ever think about just saying fuck it and asking someone, like, I don’t know, one of us, to just take your virginity?”

Your breathing caught in your chest. You stared at Sirius, a million thoughts coming to your head but you couldn’t articulate any of them. You had no idea what to say.

“I mean, I’ve thought about losing my virginity, yeah, that’s normal,” you explained.

“To one of us?” Remus asked.

You could lie. You could act disgusted at the question and walk away now, or, you could tell the truth, and risk ruining your entire friendship. You could also tell the truth and potentially gain everything you wanted.

Your voice became small, your eyes watching your hands fidget in your lap, “maybe.”

The boys all exchanged a look between one another.

James was the only one who was able to pull himself together. “W-who?”

You titled your head up at him. “What?”

James sat down on the bed next to you. “Which one of us?”

You could physically see all the boys tense up, ready to be filled with either pride or jealousy. Sirius and Remus were staring daggers at you, anxiously awaiting your answer. James kept his eyes on you as well, trying to make you feel less intimidated and tense than Sirius and Remus were.

Your eyes darted between all of them, “I-“

You were evidently nervous, and Remus felt bad. He knelt on the ground in front of you, taking your hands in his own. It was the most intimate gesture you’d received from him yet. He kept his voice soft. “Angel, you don’t have to tell us, but we really want to know. I promise none of us will be too hurt. Please,” he almost begged.

You sighed. You weren’t worried because you only thought about one of them, you were worried because you were embarrassed to tell them the truth. You took a deep breath. It was now or never. “All of you.”

They were not prepared for that answer.

Remus and James stared at you and tried to process your words. Sirius was more of an “act on impulse” and “speak without thinking” kind of guy.

“Fuck off,” he said, “all of us?”

“Mhm.”

“Like at the same time?” he pushed.

“Sirius-“ Remus warned.

“No, no, I wanna hear you say it,” he said, attention back on you, “I wanna hear you say that you’ve thought about losing your virginity to all three of us. At the same time. I wanna hear you say that you’ve thought about us fucking you.” He was standing dangerously close to you now.

“I- I have,” you said, blush evident in your cheeks.

Sirius growled. “Remus, move.”

“Excuse me?” Remus snapped back.

“Move.”

Remus sighed and moved out of the way so that Sirius was standing directly in front of you. “You stop us if there’s anything you don’t like. Understood?”

You nodded your head, but that wasn’t enough.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes,” you retried.

Sirius gave you a small smile before grabbing your face in his hands, tilting your head up and leaning down to give you a long, intimate kiss. Once you had settled in, he deepened the kiss, his carnal desires taking over. He slowly leaned you back on the bed, your legs still hanging off the mattress, as he placed one knee next to your waist, holding himself up as he continued kissing you. When your back hit the mattress, you held the back of Sirius’s head to keep him in place.

You felt one of the boys behind Sirius, pulling your pants off and leaving your lower half nearly exposed.

Sirius flopped down on the bed next to you, still kissing you as you ran your fingers through his hair.

James slowly kissed up your thigh, throwing both of your legs over his shoulders as he kissed your underwear right above your heat. You gasped, but Sirius didn’t let you break the kiss.

“Sirius, come on, give her a break,” James pleaded, “I wanna hear her.”

Sirius groaned into the kiss before breaking it, looking down to James in between your legs. “Well, go on then.”

Sirius was still feral and needy, pulling your shirt over your head and ripping off your bra, immediately going to grab and kiss at your breasts. You were embarrassed at the exposure, but everyone was moving on your body so fast that you didn’t have time to think about your body being on display.

James pushed your underwear to the side and kissed your folds, causing you to squeal. This was an unfamiliar feeling, but you were growing wetter and wetter by the minute. He pushed your folds open with his tongue, licking and flicking at your clit. You whined and threw your head back. He continued his actions, peeking up at you from between your legs, watching you come apart as he ate you out like a man starved.

“Take it easy,” you heard Remus say from behind your head, “you gotta remember she’s never done this.”

James moaned into your cunt as a response, sending a shiver up your body, causing your legs to shake slightly. He kept sucking and licking circles around your bud, and you couldn’t help but grab the hair at the back of his head, pushing him closer into you.

“Good girl,” Sirius cooed from beside you, touching every exposed part of your body that he could.

As James’ tongue quickened, your whines grew louder, but you tried to tame them and save yourself further embarrassment. Remus noticed and was not happy. He grabbed your face and forced your neck to look backward at him. “Are you holding back?”

“N-no,” you said anxiously, not sure if it was the truth.

“Ah, but I think you are,” he started, “and we don’t accept that. Let us hear you.”

“But I’m emb-“

“I don’t care if you’re embarrassed. Stop holding back. Now.”

Remus’s demanding and controlling demeanor only added at the pleasure James was giving you with his mouth. You did as he said. James continued to quicken his pace, whines and moans falling from your lips.

“Does that feel good?” Remus asked.

“Yes, Rem, I-“

“No fair!” Sirius suddenly exclaimed, “if you ask her all the questions, you get to hear her moan your name. Selfish prick.”

“Are you gonna let this be about her or what?” Remus retorted.

“I am! I should be asking you the same thing, why do you always get to be in control of everything?”

They bickered back and forth for a few minutes, but the entire time, James remained focused on you. He watched from between your legs as his tongue made you squirm and moan, and he had you nearly seeing stars.

You desperately tried to tell him you were going to come, but Remus and Sirius were too busy bickering for James to hear you. You tapped at his head to signal him, and he got the message, sucking at your bud until you finally came. Your chest rapidly rose and fell as James continued to lick you until he had tasted every last drop of cum from your hole, standing up and placing a wet kiss on your lips.

“What, did you just give up?” Sirius asked when he saw James standing.

“No, idiot, she came,” James replied, “you two dickheads were too busy arguing to notice.”

Remus’s nostrils flared. “You just let us keep arguing?”

“She tried to say something!” James defended you, and partly himself.

“Baby, you ok?” Remus checked in.

“Mhm,” you nodded.

“You got a little more in you?”

“Mhm.”

“You want me?”

“Mhm.”

Remus pulled his pants and boxers down and climbed on top of you, pulling your underwear completely off of you as he placed his knees on either side of your waist.

“You sure?” he asked, wanting to confirm your consent.

“Yes,” you responded.

“And you’re sure you’re okay with it being me?”

Instead of responding with words, you tilted your head up and kissed Remus, assuring him that you wanted it to be him. You would have been okay with any of the boys, but Remus was always so in control, it made sense that he would be your first. Your relationship with him was always a little less silly, and a little more intimate, than your relationship with the other two.

“Are you ready?” he checked, lining up his already hard cock at your entrance.

“Yeah,” you replied, “just- please be nice, okay?”

Remus smiled, “of course, baby.”

You nodded at him and locked eyes as he slowly pushed into you, a long gasp leaving your lips as he filled you up. His cock was bigger than you thought it would be, and it was taking you a while to adjust to his size.

“Shit, Rem,” you breathed out, “you should have warned me that you’re that fucking big.”

Sirius growled next to you, your words driving him crazy. He couldn’t help but pull out his cock, stroking it slowly as he watched you.

Remus gave you plenty of time to adjust before you nodded at him, signaling that he could move. He started slowly, pushing in and out of you as an excruciatingly slow pace. It burned, and you almost told Remus to stop, but after a few minutes, the pain subsided, and the pleasure took over.

A particularly filthy moan left your lips, and Sirius cursed under his breath. James appeared behind your head, stroking your hair as Remus’s head dropped to your shoulder as he began to pick up the pace.

“Shit, baby,” he moaned, “you feel so fucking good.”

“You look so fucking good,” Sirius breathed.

“Thank you, Siri,” you cried out, causing Sirius to cum in his hand, the nickname making him lose all control.

“What a good girl,” Remus spoke, his thrusts quickening until he was causing your body to jolt upward with each hit from the force, “you’re doing so well.”

James placed a kiss on your forehead and you reached up to grab his hand for leverage. You squeezed his hand, the pleasure between your legs becoming almost too much.

“Relax, baby, you’re being such a good girl,” James said.

Remus’ breathing quickened. “You’re so tight, angel, if you keep squeezing my cock like that I’m not gonna last,” he warned.

“I c-can’t help it,” you told him.

“I know baby,” he replied.

“I d- don’t know how to m- make it stop,” you said.

Remus giggled, “you don’t have to make it stop. It feels good for me.”

“Oh,” you whimpered, “that’s good.”

Remus giggled again. You were so cute, even in the middle of losing your virginity. Remus leaned down and kissed you, your lips moving in harmony as he began to pound into you. Any sense of kindness and mercy he had for this being your first time went out the window when you kissed.

Your moans grew louder and louder, and you tried to cover your mouth with your hand to quiet yourself down.

“Ah ah ah,” Sirius tsked, pulling your hand away, “none of that.”

“Rem- Rem- I-“

“I know angel, let go.”

Your high crashed over you again, your hips bucking upward to meet Remus’ final few thrusts before he came inside of you, the feeling of you squeezing him becoming too much for him to hold on. Remus stayed inside of you for a moment, watching your face as you calmed down from your high, a slight shake in your legs.

“What a good girl,” James praised, kissing your forehead.

“You okay?” Remus checked in, pulling out of you and standing in front of you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, “‘m okay.”

Sirius leaned down to kiss you again. “Everything you imagined?”

“Mhm.” You were too tired to formulate complete words or sentences.

“You wanna skip the party?” Sirius continued.

“Mhm.”

“You wanna cuddle and watch a movie?”

“Mhm.” You shifted so your head was resting on Sirius’ lap as he began to stroke your hair.

Sirius smiled. “And then maybe round two.”

[rxmye]

" 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 "

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 — For so long, he found art in his surroundings, nature was his muse . . who would've thought that he'd be able to find another muse, within you.

gender neutral reader / yandere oc x reader / obsessive / unhealthy themes / I guess the reader is his 'hater' / perfectionist yandere / kind of egotistic yandere / he has a praise kink frfr / maybe a bit self centered . . / kind of unedited / also might appeal to ppl with a savior complex

masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: I feel like Lore takes up a good chunk of this fic, but enjoy . . also might be one of my longest fics . .

He was a calming presence, and a thoughtful friend to all he called his own. Elegance took a human form, in Xavier Wilson—A beautiful work of art indeed . . Born presenting a talent that could rival many others in the industry.

From a young age, Xavier presented himself as a man of the arts, often drawing out vivid tapestries of his dreams or memories. He would often lose himself in the pages of his notebook, scribbling away with intricate drawings and stories, his mind was his own magnum opus.

However—people was never his strong suit. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, surely if he was as magnificent as those around him expressed, he'd most certainly be able to recreate the portraits of those around him?—But no, none of his portraits could compare to his various other works.

As he got a bit older, his mother decided to enroll him in classes that could help expand his talents, which ranged from various music lessons, theater (didn't end well), art history—etc . . .

Xavier let out a breathy sigh, staring at the keys of the grand piano absentmindedly—his gloved fingers gently glide over the keys, tired would be the best way to describe him as of right now—his professor had left an hour ago, yet Xavier couldn't find it in himself to move.

Truth be told, Xavier wasn't a fan of music, he preferred quiet solitude—and though he had long since gotten used to the sound of the piano, violin, and any of the other ridiculous instruments his mother was so keen on getting him to play—he still preferred the silence over all.

Over the course of time, Xavier disinterest towards music dimmed—Alongside his distaste towards instruments . . He figured the reason he disliked it so much was due to his inability to play as perfectly as his professor . . Xavier was a perfectionist, and anything he couldn't perfect was simply 'wrong' in his eyes, and as he reached his teen years, he accepted that fact wholeheartedly.

Xavier stood still, as his mother fixed his tie for him—he could do it himself but he let her enjoy this moment, she always disliked watching her son 'grow up so fast'—"are you nervous?", she asked softly, gently holding his hands, smiling so brightly.

'Am I nervous?—' he thought, clearly not. He felt calm, neutral even. It was his first big show, yet internally he knew that things would end well for him, he could feel it. He's always been lucky, in fact his father's nickname for him as a child was quite literally 'Puer aureus' which translated to 'the golden boy' from Latin.

He clicked his tongue, a common habit of his—especially when he wasn't being exactly truthful—he paused for a moment as if to think, then he smiled at his mother, "Just a bit, but I'll be fine" he spoke calmly, gently squeezing her hand to reassure her. "Don't worry, I've prepared well for this . . Haven't I?"

Praise, he adored praise, and that day he received quite a lot of it—not just from his parents, or acquaintances . . .—but crowds of people. Honestly, it stroked his ego, quite a bit . .

By seventeen years of age, Xavier's talent was known worldwide, his rise to fame quite massive and fast . . He had to attend class, while also hosting live performances and art galleries. (such a struggle, really . . .)

University admissions were coming around, and most of his friends had chosen what schools they plan on applying to—what path they plan on going into—what school they hope to go to the most, the conversation was an eye opener and yet it all felt so bitter.

Xavier tapped his pen on the table, zoning out from the conversation his friends were having . . only to zone back in when Neva spoke, "—so Xavier, have you decided where you'll be applying too . . ? I'm sure you'll get in."

He clicked his tongue in response, closing his eyes absentmindedly as he spoke, "To be honest, not really . . probably something arts related?", Xavier was about to speak up again but stopped himself, starring down at the table, a sigh escaping his lips.

"That seems like a waste of money", he looked up, starring at Oliver with questioning eyes, and Oliver quickly explained himself, "Art school is great and all—But it won't really make much of a difference for you, in fact the rules could restrict your talent . . It could be better for you to just try something new? You're good in school a degree outside of your comfort zone may be something good for you!"

He hated that his friend was right, he hated being wrong. He prided himself for always knowing what was best for himself and his abilities, and in a spur of pettiness he found himself taking art anyway, trying to prove his friend wrong . . even though he was well aware his intentions were pure in all ways.

Xavier had done well in his courses so far, and with his fame, he was breezing through classes—and yet, when the topics of portraits came up . . he found all that floating out the window.

None of the models they had for class, felt right—none of the art he did, felt authentic . . felt like himself, when it came to art, Xavier took everyone to paradise, his art felt like peace . . his art was calm . . his music was soft, lulling almost . .

Yet now, as he stared at his canvas, covered in mixed harsh colours, a vibrant mess of paint, his brushes wrecked, paint dripping from the easel . . It felt like anything but calm.

And that's when he dropped out, a question to his perfection would wreck the fragile image of himself he had created in his mind, a man so perfect and lucky in his own right a humbling experience like that was to never see the light of day.

Xavier found himself turning to something different, just like Oliver suggested, his alternatives were selective, yet he kept many paths open, Photography, fashion, and business were his top picks and things he found himself surprisingly enjoying . . Surely if he could paint and create melodies of such wonders, then he can stitch some fabric together, solve a few equations, and take a few photo's here and there just fine . . right?

A few years had past, and Xavier was now running his very own Luxury fashion line, he still hosted art galleries here and there, and composed music on the side, but his business took up most of his time.

But on his free days he'd turn to photography, taking pictures of things he sought comfort in . . and people, he'd often take pictures of unsuspecting people, pretty ones . . people not so pretty as well, just to try and recreate the life they had on a canvas . . yet somehow always failing to do so.

The moment Xavier found himself close, he'd reach a dead end . . and that destroyed him, internally.

Over the years, he accepted the small flaws in his behavior, and tried his best to reform them, presenting himself as the perfect public figure. He did go to therapy in the past, but when things started rising up, he quit entirely.

Xavier laid back on his office chair, and scrolled through his recent posts comment section, and as expected almost all of it was praise . . some of envy, but that only fueled his ego more . . Until he found a comment that set him off, "His art is so melancholy, it feels a bit sad . . His previous works were brighter, like more happy but now it kind of feels sad . . Like the life in his work isn't there anymore."

Xavier stared at the comment dumbfounded, never had he received that kind of feedback . . portraits he drew were indeed lifeless, but his other art was always regarded as lively, and that was what he always strived for . . Curious, and in a fit of rage . . he clicked on the commenters profile, and saw you.

You, you . . You were what he was looking for, his muse. So, full of life . . He scrolled through your page, and couldn't help but feel the urge to draw you, and paint you . . and paint you he did. . Because soon his entire studio was filled with pieces inspired by you . . so full of 'life' . . .

Yet at some point, he had reached the end of your posts, and it just wasn't enough . . he needed you . . He wanted your feedback, he craved your praise . . like no other, he wanted input . . he wanted to know if his work was truly still lifeless . . he wanted you.

After all, a artist isn't complete without his muse.

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.