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osamucide · 1 month ago

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NFSW—MINORS, AGELESS + BLANK BLOGS DNI

Sae doesn't want a significant other. he wants a pet.

Sae wants you on your knees with a pretty leather o-ring collar around your throat while his smacks the leaky head of his cock on your tongue. he wants his full government name on a shiny heart-shaped tag dangling next to where he clips your leash on. he wants to ruffle your hair and coo and aww at you condescendingly when you do something a little stupid. he wants you to eat up his commands, obey his word like it's gospel—like he's your owner, your master, your salvation.

Sae doesn't just want you to look and act like his brainless dog, though—more than that, he wants you to embody it. he wants to train you into the obedient little pet you were meant to be for him, which is why he wastes no time buying a clicker and getting to work conditioning you into getting wet at the mere sound of him pressing the button. he sits on the couch with his legs spread—and the second you hear it, you're scurrying over to him to curl up at his feet because you'd never crawl up on his lap without his permission.

Sae wants to watch you grind on his shoe while you nuzzle and sniff his erection through his pants. he mumbles go ahead, baby while you look to him for permission to roll his waistband down and desperately paw and lick at his cock. he wants you to whine and beg for him while he sits back with a lazy smirk on his face and watches you get him wet; he'll cup your cheek with his hand while you lap at him with tears pooling in your glossy puppydog eyes and tell you you're so good for him. only when you're scratching at his thighs—nipping at him while he tells you to watch those teeth—and babbling please, please, please will he tug you up by your leash to sit you across his hips.

Sae wants to watch you grow even more needy while he makes you rub your slick up and down his cock—he's so mean, he'll never just fuck you how you want. you have to work for it like a good dog; you have to hump at him like an animal while he denies you before he even considers flipping you over and fucking you. but when he does, he's gonna fuck you even stupider than you already are—you're stuck in a sweet downward spiral of being molded into his little toy, so good and pliant for him, and you love every second of it.

Sae wants to rough-fuck you until you're a dumb, drooling mess. he trains you to cum on command—only on his cock—with the clicker, and plugs you up with a fluffly little tail plug when he's done, regardless of what hole he's used. he wants to see the adorable, pathetic mix of dread and lust on your face when he thumbs the clicker in public or around his friends. he wants you to give in to your most primal instincts and senses with him—wants you to trust him so fully that you let him lead you through life with a domineering hand on the back of your neck.

Sae doesn't want a significant other. he wants a pet—but that's okay, because he pavlovs you so mind-numbingly sweetly into being his braindead, cock-hungry dog; he treats you like his baby, his sweetheart, his world. so, remember your place, okay?

tagging @saetiate with luv :x

#sae x reader #sae itoshi smut #sae itoshi x reader #blue lock smut #nnnsfw.ᐟ

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puppytopper · 1 year ago

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I want to clicker train a sub. I want to train them to fall into subspace when I click it. I want to train them to do tricks with different numbers and lengths of clicks. One click, they’re in sub space and getting their collar. Two and they’re on their knees in front of me, waiting patiently to be collared, invisible tail thumping the floor excitedly.

I want to watch their eyes glaze when the collar closes around their throat, their cunt getting wetter by the second. Three clicks and they’re pawing at my pants, desperate to devour my cock and cunt. They’re only allowed to move and seek friction when they hear four clicks. I make them wait until I’ve come at least four times.

Five clicks has them on all fours, ass in the air to present their soaked, dripping cunt to me. They can’t move until they hear six clicks, no matter how hard, fast, or slow I’m fucking them. They’re allowed to bark when I hit their favorite spot, though.

Six clicks and I stop, letting them howl and whine and bark and fuck themselves wildly on my cock, driving themselves to the edge of orgasm. They’re not allowed to come until they hear three long clicks. I make them wait at least ten minutes, until they’re dripping down my cock, face down, whimpering and begging. I make them bark like the good puppy they are when they come.

I clean them up and let them out of sub space with ten clicks.

#wolf howls #there’s more to be explored here #and good puppies out there can give me ideas in my in box 😌#clicker training #puppy sub #puppy space #pet pl4y

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celeste-clearwater-06 · 2 months ago

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The Kitchen Window (pt. 3)

Bayverse! Raphael x Fem! Reader

desc- (April knows something is up with your story, and decides to investigate)

warnings - swearing (duh)

word count - 2.1k

READ PREVIOUS PARTS HERE- one - two

The first message pops up on your screen when you’re at one of the corner tables in the cafe, on your mandatory 30 minute break when she texts, drinking something that wasn’t on the menu. It’s from an unsaved number.

[hey! It’s April]

The first time she’s texted you after exchanging numbers. An easy smile comes to you.

[Can we meet up tomorrow? I’ve got a lead on a few break-in cases]

You set your cup down to respond, wiping your mouth with your sleeve and start typing back quickly.

[i’d love to, but i’m working a 6-9 :((]

She types and sends another message almost immediately.

[does tonight work then?]

She sure was relentless.

[sure! any place in mind?]

[would your place be okay?]

Your place? Your quiet, empty, drab apartment?

[yeah that works ! lemme send you the address. i get off at 7]

[awesome thxxx]

You laugh quietly to yourself while typing down the complex name and your room number. April seemed nice enough from the little you knew about her. Strong, independent, gorgeous. Vern was definitely trying to tap that. You really hoped he didn’t, but she read as a woman that could hold her own. You liked it.

Your coworker coughed to get your attention, indicating you’re 3 minutes past your break. You pocket your phone, and then stand to clock back in and finish the last half of another boring shift.

April’s already beaten you to your apartment, leaning against the outer wall by your door and looking down at her phone when you get there. Her head lifts with a pretty smile when you greet her.

“Hey! Sorry I’m running a little behind.”

Your hands fumble the key ring before shoving one into the lock and it twists with a click. She’s understanding.

“No worries. I’m glad we could meet up.”

“Sorry,” you’re quick to bring awareness to the nearly bare space when the door creaks open, “I don’t really have a lot going on in here.”

April scans the room while you shed your jacket and shoes, walking in and taking in stride the plain couch and old carpet.

“Wow. Kinda lonely.”

Ouch. Painfully truthful but, ouch. Way to beat around the bush.

“Yeah,” you huff, “I’m not here a lot. Or anyone else.” That statement proves false when a high-pitched meow and tinkle of a little belled-collar comes from the kitchenette. The cat is patting her little feet on the counter.

“Hey there kitty.”

Your visitor walks over to give her a little scratch under the chin, which she accepts gladly.

“Oh yeah, she’s here too. Watches over the house for me.”

April chuckles.

“What’s her name?”

“Vannie. Like Van Gogh.”

You thought the name was genius when you first picked it out, poking a little fun at her one missing ear. It sounded a little bit ridiculous now, when you were saying it out loud to another person. April’s eyes get this curious, excited little light behind them when she turns to look at you. What it’s about, you have no clue, and don’t care to ask.

“You named her after an artist.”

“Sure did.”

It’s odd to you, how that seems to be the kicker, but that thought doesn’t even reach the processing department of your brain before April reaches into her crossbody bag and pulls out a laptop.

“I wanted to show you some of these recent reports on break-ins in lower manhattan. Maybe we could try and find your guy.”

“Okay miss detective,” it’s a compliment you mean, well impressed with her dedication. She was just so cool. April flips open the screen and sets the device on the countertop next to Vannie, wasting absolutely zero time. You feel a little guilty there’s not even a table or chairs for the two of you to relax at.

She opens a file on the Home page with two clicks. Vannie paws at the clicker icon that darts around the screen.

The two of you share a little amused laugh, and then divert your attention to one of the worded documents that she’s scrolling through.

“Rising illegal activity… here.” April moves her face back so you can move in and scan over the report. It read along the lines of a few specific perpetrators and their repeated offenses of theft and breaking and entering in around the block you lived on.

“It’s weird,” April rests an arm on the counter in thought, “You said some guy stopped whoever it was trying to grab you from your window. A ton of the reports and witness statements I’ve read over mention similar stuff.”

This surprises you slightly. She opens a different report and lets you freely scroll.

All of the accounts have about the same cookie-cut story. A shadowed figure, moving in, attacking, and then disappearing with little to no trace. No descriptions, no clues to who they were.

You knew though.

“So like… a vigilante.”

“Exactly,” April confirms. The way she’s looking at your face, gauging a reaction, settles weird in the pit of your stomach. It’s like she already knows the answer, the big picture to this case you’re still trying to put together.

“And all of them seem to be, what, a guy with a weird amount of strength that’s kicking ass at night and leaving the NYPD to clean up their mess?”

“Or…” she knows you know something, and it’s making you break a little sweat under the building pressure. You’re suddenly uncomfortable.

“Or… More than one. You can’t cover that much area in such a short amount of time.”

“Right.”

You’re cracking under the weight of her curious stare in the silence of the room.

April O’Niel is fucking baiting you.

She wants you to tell her the truth about who, or what, stopped your attacker a few weeks ago on the balcony. And poor, unsocial, people-pleasing you just spills it out.

“Okay, I-I know this is gonna sound absolutely crazy.”

The words come flowing from your mouth, a sporadic spout of words that you can’t stop. Her eyes grow wider and wider as you admit you really did know what the guy looked like, and how he’d come to your window intentionally one night just last week. Maybe it was the pure lack of having someone personable (and also not a cat) to listen to your insane story that just keeps tumbling out. By the time you’re finished, April has the same look on your face that you did when you first encountered the giant turtle, like she was practically reliving the story in her own head. You’re breathless.

“I know it sounds like I’m insane, but I just couldn’t tell Vern,” you’re quick to your own defense, “He would never talk to me again. Nobody would.”

She just stands there for a minute in the quiet, gears clicking in that quick brain of hers.

“I don’t think you’re crazy.”

You don’t believe that for a second. Her baffled stare just moments ago were a telltale sign of someone’s concern. April was probably already thinking of how to transport you to the nearest psyc ward.

“I get it, it sounds-“

“Look… I gotta take go take care of something,” she shuts the laptop and is already shoving it into her bag, while you stand there fumbling for something to say to try and convince her of your story, “I promise I’ll get back to you, this is just super, super important.”

She definitely thinks you’re crazy.

“April, please,”

She grabs your pleading hand in both of hers and pats it like an old woman pitying the poor.

“I’ll text you, when I get the chance.”

April leaves you standing, slouched with your arms just hanging defeatedly at your sides while she practically runs out of the door.

“It was good seeing you! Have a good night!”

It’s quiet all over again when the door slams shut. Vannie meows, like it’s a question and you look at her with a pathetic expression.

“She thinks I’m batshit crazy.”

But you’re so wrong, because as you prepare yourself for another night of restless sleep, April’s quickly walking down the stairs and out onto the street with a phone to her ear, and a satisfied smile on her face.

“Donnie?”

“Hey April! What’s up?”

“We gotta talk. I’m swinging by the lair in a few.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

The boys are all standing around their booth table (the really cool one they’d dragged down into the lair forever ago), mouths agape while April explains in confidence the situation at hand. Splinter is sitting next to her, with a wise, attentive ear.

Raphael is trying to brood at his friend practically snitching all of his secrets to his brothers and dad, but he’s still so shocked at what he’s hearing that his brows are curling in confusion rather than anger.

“I told you to stay away from her apartment, Raph!” Leo’s first instinct is to point an accusing finger towards his younger brother. He seethes at it but before he can get a snide remark out, someone’s talking again.

“I didn’t know Vern had a sister.” Donnie is stuck on the main focus of all of their surprise.

“Or, like, any family!” Mikey cuts in, “He’s a lone wolf.” He lets out a horrendous impression of howl, and performance of ripping a nonexistent shirt from his body like a werewolf. April snickers.

“Vern doesn’t talk about her much,” she defends, “I just met her last week.”

It really was a ridiculous coincidence that the pretty girl Raphael has been so unintentionally drawn to was stupid Vern Fenwicks younger sister. Though he doesn’t think it would have made a difference in the outcome of him silently following her home some nights to ensure she makes it there without incident. Thankfully, April doesn’t know this, otherwise she would’ve outed that information to everyone by now. The oldest of the four speaks again, desperate to turn this into some sort of lesson.

“If you’d just listened-“

“What’s done is done, Leonardo.” Splinter's voice is calm, but commanding, “You cannot change that she’s seen him.”

That finally silences Leo, but he’s visibly unhappy. Donnie speaks up again.

“So what does this mean for us?”

This renders all of them unanswered. It’s a complicated thing. They can’t make you just forget the multiple interactions you’ve had with Raphael. But how do they approach forward from here? April has a suggestion she’s been thinking of since she left your apartment.

“I think she should meet you guys.”

“WHAT?”

All four voices are overwhelmingly loud and surprised at the idea.

“It would only make sense. She knows you guys are out there every night, she’s seen Raph,” she lifts her hand to acknowledge the turtle who just grunts in annoyance, “And she totally thinks that I think she’s crazy. I feel bad.”

“I don’t know,” Donnie’s hesitant, “this isn’t a dire, life threatening situation where human interaction is necessary.”

“What if she tells her friends?” Leo adds.

April bites her tongue. As sweet and kind as you are, it would come as a surprise to anyone on the outside that you pretty much only talked to people at your job.

“She won‘t.”

“So many people have seen us out there, and they don’t need to know who we are. Why should she?”

“Am I seriously the only one here who digs the idea?” Mikey says, “We have, like, two human friends up top.”

Raph is the only one who hasn’t spoken up. Secretly, it excited him to think about meeting you with, hopefully, no repercussions. But also, so many things could go wrong. He doesn’t realize everyone’s staring at him, waiting for his input, until the silence draws on for just a little too long.

“Man, I don’t know about this one.”

“Come onn,” Michelangelo throws a soft punch at his shoulder, “You can finally introduce us to your girlfriend.”

Raph pushes the youngests’ face away with his palm.

“Knock it off, dumbass.”

“Splinter?” Leo looks to his dad for guidance. The party’s torn and he’s left to be the mediator. After sitting in thought for a moment, the rat speaks.

“I don’t believe it would hurt to indulge. If April trusts the girl, I cannot see a reason not to make an acquaintance.”

“She really is sweet,” April’s on your corner of the ring, and Splinter’s words credit her immensely. She can see them all look at each other and wordlessly cave in, one at a time. Mikey pumps his fists in the air with excitement.

“Okay so even if we do decide to meet her,” Leo’s already made up his mind, but pretends not to, “We can’t just bring her down here.”

A good point.

April gets another idea. She pulls out her phone and holds up her finger to pause the conversation.

“Hold that thought.”

And with another text sent, the plan’s set in place.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

*hands you this chapter with a wink*

PART 3 BABY, THINGS ARE GETTIN GOODDD

Sorry this chapter is a little shorter, but trust, I've already gotten the next chapter fully written out, and it'll definitely make up for it ;)

lemme know if you want to be a part of my slowly growing taglist, so you don't miss out on the next chapter!!!

THANK YOU BABES 🩷💕💓🧼🫧

taglist - [ @ladyofparchments @well-its-not-human-anymore @raphaelsrightarm @chiliiscereal @milkytheholy1 @moxfirefly @raphsgrl @leosgirl82 @thelaundrybitch @rheawritesforfun @imthegreenfairy86 @aurora-the-kunoichi @angelhazeisaweirdo @raisin-shell @fyreball66 @redsrooftopprincess @milykins @ahhhhhhhhhfuck @quitecontrary-to-mary @the-cauldron-witch @brins-rogers @yelocaltrashcan @pheradream-15 ]

#xreader #tmnt 2016 #tmnt raphael #bayverse raph x reader #bayverse tmnt #bayverse raphael x reader #bayverse raphael #tmnt x reader #april o'neil #tmnt 2014 #part 3

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clownetownie · 5 months ago

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Jeepers, this G-G-Great God Grove is… full of G-G-Gay people!

Here’s assorted doodles (+ an attempt at a “Click before he ascended” design)

I think Click Clack deserves paws. He’s such a special creature to me

Also. My first attempts at drawing Clicker under the cut

#great god grove #ggg #Click Clack #click clack ggg #inspekta #inspekta ggg #capochin #capochin ggg #Inspekta x Capochin #Capochin x Inspekta #bizzyboy p #Patty ggg #click with paws please save me

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virtuallucan · 5 months ago

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ONE OF MY COLLARS AND CLICKER AND LED TAG IS COMING IN TODAY GRAGGHDH … i also have a therian necklace coming in … and some paw earrings …. hehe

my personalized collar (with “LUCAN” on a bone tag) is coming in tomorrow … im ecstatic ….

woof. idk

#howlsoflucan #therian #therianthropy #alterhuman #caninekin #canine therian #nonhuman #otherkin #physical nonhuman #physically nonhuman #physical therian #therian gear #nonhuman gear #therian things

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meren-mindgames · 1 year ago

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A little experiment I had recently. My cute Sub and a lovely friend in the same room.

Taking your Sub, and setting her in front of a trusted friend. She gets to go from a respectable adorable cutie, to a Pathetic, Panting Puppy. Pawing at your leg for attention, pleading for you to pet her. Passing her betwixt the People having a conversation. She doesn’t really understand what is being said, you can take her words from her and leave her helpless. All she has is her whimpering and barking for your attention. Barking for a Treat. Crawling between the People to get them. Letting her get needy and desperate, until she can’t help but grind on your leg. It’s understandable when she has been trapped in her own mind.

Putting her back into her kennel to rest and behave, while being admired. Still withholding her words, she doesn’t need them. She never needs them. All she needs is a choke chain to give a little tug on to catch her attention. All she needs is enough thought to recognize the clicker, and her commands. Nothing further. Clicker Training to keep her Obedient.

Puppy gets to perform, entertain, and amuse People. Decoration ultimately. Enjoy a conversation with a Pretty Pet in the room. Being shown off for all the tricks, and the way her Dignity disappears the moment you drag the Puppy out.

It Feels Good to be Good.

Bark for me, Pet.

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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 year ago

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clicker

words: 600

warnings: 18+ only, smut, kind of pet play but it really is just the clicker, clicker training (duh), female recieving oral, p in v sex, semi public sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

your eyes are squeezed closed, so you don’t even realize the source of the sound as your eyes blink open, body still shaking from your high as rafe is smiling between your legs, one of his hands raised, a clicker held between his long fingers.

rafe leans in, pressing a kiss to your puffy clit, making you whine when his lips make contact with your red sensitive skin.

“what is that?” you question, gesturing to the clicker, but rafe just smiles, moving to kneel between your legs, his cock rubbing over your wet folds before thrusting in.

you hear the clicker a second time that night when he makes you cum again.

you are trying to stifle your moans, palm pressed against your mouth, praying you won't get caught. you should have known rafe wouldn't be able to resist you in the tight dress, but you thought he could at least wait until you got home.

instead, he guided you back into the dressing room and pulled the dress up to reveal your cunt.

“r-rafe.” you whimper, eyes rolling back in your head as his cock repeatedly enters you, careful not to push all the way in and have the sound of skin slapping reveal what you are doing behind the door.

“cum for me baby, come on.” rafe whispers, moving your hand to your clit, encouraging you to touch yourself.

you rub at your clit, moving your head further into rafes shoulder, teeth gently sinking into his skin to keep you silent while he thrusts. you feel him swell inside of you and know he won’t last much longer.

you feel one of his hands leave your hip but don’t pay much attention until he releases inside of you, triggering your own orgasm, suddenly realizing that he has the clicker in his hand as he presses it at the height of your orgasm.

“oh fuck.” you whine into his skin, body shaking as you come down from your high.

“shh.” rafe smiles, shoving the clicker back into his pocket and giving you a kiss on your pouty lips.

“give me a number between one and ten.” rafe presses a kiss to the top of your head as he rushes around the living room, getting his things ready to go.

“uhh, six.” you shrug.

“thats how many times i’ll make you cum tonight then.” rafe says, wishing he could just stay with you today, but he’s been neglecting his guy friends and promised a golf outing as well as drinks at the country club.

rafe makes you cum six times once he gets home, one with just his fingers, three with his mouth, and two on his cock, each time your high peaks, he reaches over to press the clicker. you’re so exhausted and blissed out by the end of the night that you can’t even muster up the energy to ask about the clicker.

“come on.” rafe whines, pawing at your dress.

“no, rafe, i’m busy! give me an hour and i promise i’ll be done.” you continue to type out your essay, knowing you need to get it done. rafe is incredibly supportive of you taking online college classes, but it can be hard for him when you don’t give him your undivided attention.

rafe just frowns, leaving the room only to enter a few minutes later, this time with the clicker in hand.

“rafe, no-” you warn, but his fingers press down and your thighs clench together, a rush of wetness flooding your cunt as you let out an involuntary moan.

“wanna fuck now?” rafe asks. you glance between him and the essay open on your laptop, sighing dramatically before shutting the screen.

rafe has a proud smile plastered on his face at the success of his clicker.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart

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thekoalapastriesbakery · 2 months ago

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golden retriever!logan x dog trainer!reader? m thinking... smutty hehe (cuz like. reader trains actual dogs but the idea of logan wanted reader to "train" him is very brainfuzzying)

-bear

WHO'S A GOOD PUPPY? ft. sub!bottom!golden retriever!logan x dog trainer!reader. lots of focus on reader actually training logan, but a bit of extra stuff too :) very nsfw so ... you have been warned!

when logan found out what you did for a living, his knees damn near buckled

you had been a little nervous about telling him. you didn't want him to think you'd stop seeing him as a person because of his hybrid nature and your job

and yet. the first time you're alone together after he finds out, logan drops to his knees and starts pawing at your legs and whining

you ask him what's wrong, and he gives you one of his goofy golden grins

"want you to train me like one of your dogs."

you could swear you felt your brain bluescreen the moment he said it.

"you want me to what?"

"want you to train me like a dog," logan repeats.

he's so thrilled when you agree, like tail wagging and his tongue pre-emptively hanging out of his mouth.

he doesn't always feel super comfortable about his hybrid nature, but he feels so safe with you that he's quite happy to just shut his brain off whenever he's in your presence.

he knows you'll take care of him—you'd discussed (at length, and largely by your insistence) what would be too far and how he can break out of it whenever. he has a safe word, a safe gesture, several different ways to tell you he's struggling

you also insisted on at least a week observing his body language, just to be extra sure that you can pick up when he starts to get overwhelmed.

when you do officially start: clicker train him.

it's pretty subtle to everyone else, but logan's sensitive hearing always picked up the sound.

your first order of business is training him to associate the click with a reward, just like you'd do with any dog.

make him cum, click.

kiss him, click.

make him laugh, click.

anything that makes him happy (sexual or not, because you don't exactly want him to hear any clicking sound ever and go into subspace) gets a click.

logan's very malleable, so it's only a week or two before you can press the clicker when he's sad and he immediately perks up and looks to you.

give it an extra week's buffer, just to be sure, and then you can get into the really fun stuff

this is where you can start to train him to respond to specific gestures or even tones

if he ever gets a little too flirty with anyone, just a quiet "puppy ..." gets him in line again

hand on his lower back and logan's entire brain shuts off. you can lead him wherever you want like this.

hand on the back of his neck and logan will immediately drop to his knees. no thoughts to when/where/or anything else. he knows you would never ask him to drop where he could hurt himself.

if you stand behind him, reach around, and put your hand on his lower stomach? logan now gets horny immediately. fastest way to turn him into a proper dumb puppy for you.

eventually, with a lot of dedicated training, logan will be the most obedient sub you could ever dream of.

it's only once he's perfectly obedient that you move onto tricks!!

deepthroating, nipple orgasms, cumming on command ... there are so many things you could do with him and logan is up for pretty much anything you want to be honest

he's so giddy the first time you make him cum on a video call. logan loves that you can make him feel so good even when you're on a whole different continent

he owns one vibrator and that's it. when he's away from you, he refuses to use it unless you tell him to—even if you tell him it's fine.

eventually, he'll ask you to put a collar on him (and maybe even a lead)

he will never ever ever in a million years want to take it off. you have to get him a little string he can wear around his little finger so he doesn't panic when he has to take his collar off for races.

when he stops whining every single time, he gets a very nice reward that ends with a very soft, very mushy, very giggly logan who you need to carry around like a princess for a couple days until he can walk again

#vinnie.fics #formula 1 x male reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x male reader #f1 x reader #logan sargeant x male reader #logan sargeant x reader #dog!logan #hybrid!drivers #🐻 anon #vinnie’s jail cell

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drewsdollie · 7 days ago

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pairings: Stephen Glass x Reader

warnings: Light smut

The smallish conference room reeked of filtered coffee and desperation—the scent of a Monday trying to pass for a Friday. You were mid-sentence, speaking about circulation numbers and projected readership metrics, but Stephen’s knee is nudging yours under the table again. Not gently or idly. He’s needling you, like some wiry little terrier pawing at a closed door.

“I miss you,” he mutters under his breath, lips barely moving. Not even looking at you, the little coward. His voice slices through the dry air like a paper cut, just for you.

You ignore him. Keep talking. Click to the next slide.

“…and if we restructure the second half to focus on youth readership—”

“Do you hate me?” he whispers, louder this time. You feel his hot breath, sticky with his usual 3 p.m. Diet Coke tang. “Because if you hate me, I can take it, I just…I need to know.”

You squeeze the clicker tight, teeth clenched. That sharp tug of your patience.

“Stephen,” you say through your teeth, low and sharp. “Later.”

He slumps instantly like a damp mop, big sad eyes blinking up at you as if you just shot his childhood dog in front of a live audience. “It’s always later,” he breathes dramatically, and scribbles nothing on his notepad just to look busy. You glance down. He's drawn a tiny, blobby caricature of you with devil horns and a whip.

Cute.

The meeting drags on. Editorial talks about fact-checking protocols—you know the irony's not lost on him. He shifts in his seat, scowling when Chuck Lane’s name comes up. His muttered “fucking rat” is just loud enough for two heads to snap toward him. He offers a tight, nervous smile.

“Sorry, I just…allergies,” he stammers.

Oh, he’s playing the long game today.

You leave the conference room and he’s on you before the door swings shut behind the last intern. That awful little laugh of his, nasal and shaky, bubbling up as he trots after you like a dog who just heard a leash jingle.

“Baby? Babe?” he calls out. “Can we talk now? I—I think I’m having some sort of emotional event—”

“Stephen, we are at work.”

“Yeah? So?” He’s shameless. That cocky little smile is back, smug and petulant. “So? Since when has professionalism ever been your thing? You made out with me in the server room like, a week ago. And I was the one who said we should stop! For the record, because I respect you.”

“You were humping my leg.”

“That was respectfully, thank you.” He grabs your hand, presses his clammy cheek to it like some Victorian wife fading from heartbreak. “Can you just…like…validate me for ten seconds? Tell me you like my tie? Lie to me? Please? Just lie. Or kiss me. Or kill me. Any of those three would help.”

His tie is crooked. A sad, mustard yellow thing that looks like it cost seven dollars and a thread of self-esteem. You yank it straight and he moans—moans—like you’d grabbed him by the cock instead.

“Oh my God,” he whispers. “Do it again.”

“Stephen.”

“I’m gonna make a scene. You know I will.” He leans in close, whispering feverishly into your ear. “I’ll start crying. Real tears. The kind that make people feel bad. You know I’ve got that sad little voice. I’ll use it. I’ll—fuck—I’ll start confessing to shit in front of Chuck. I’ll invent lies. You want that? You want me talking about your feet in the pitch meeting?”

You back him against the supply closet door with a single, threatening step, lips an inch from his ear. “You so much as breathe the word feet in front of Chuck, I’ll leave a PowerPoint in the group folder called Stephen Glass: The Erotic Memoir. With photos.”

His eyes dilate. He’s not afraid. He’s turned on. “…Will they be high-res?” he asks softly.

You shove him inside the closet.

He lands in the middle of the floor between toner cartridges and industrial paper towels, staring up at you like a worshipper. You tower over him. His dumb little tie's askew again, and he looks wrecked just from being shoved. The door clicks shut and he last thing the office hears is his voice, soft and low behind the door.

“…I really hope I can still get my article in by Friday.” He smiles, "But also? If you wanted to sit on my face until the toner explodes, I would understand.”

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