#push da button

[invisible-pink-toast]

shug avery making sure everybody knows how important celie is to her no matter the adaptation

[are-we-really-doing-this]

Sincerely have not gotten this off my mind since I first saw it.

[julie-su]

Somebody draw Julie-Su in a wheelchair (self propelled, not push) I'm going back to sleep

[ghostsinthecellar]

ha fuck you brain I did the thing

[cvakviigmohns]

ugh my dash is so weird what are they cooking up in those tumblr labs (expired meth, it's likely expired meth)

[employee052]

BOY- I SAY- BOY, YOU GOTTA STOP LETTIN' HIM CONTROL YA DARN LIFE LIKE THIS BOY. YOU GOTTA GO THROUGH YOUR OWN DOORS YA HEAR? ARE YOU GONNA LET THAT STINKIN OLD GEEZER TELL YA HOW TA LIVE YA LIFE BOY? YOU GOTTA PUSH AGAINST HIM BOY, PUSH HIM LIKE DA DARN BUTTONS YOU PUSH ON THAT THERE KEYBOARD BOY! NOW I SAY- BOY I SAY- GO OUT THERE AND DON'T LET ANYONE TELL YOU WHAT TO DO BOY, FIND YOUR OWN ADVENTURE BOY, ITS CALLED THE STANLEY PARABLE FOR A REASON BOY!

[bamfkeeper]

Kurt teaching you German numbers, his methods are very encouraging. 18+ under cut. MDNI.

This crossed my mind, and I think it's super hot. But maybe it's just meee idk 😖 It's all for fun anyway. I have trouble retaining information so I figured Kurt would come up with something to help you remember if you have the same issue. <3

Warnings: More dominant Kurt bc I wanna see more this side of him, it's not too crazy. Afab reader, sex toys, praise, orgasm denial, slight overstimulation, oral (reader giving), he uses his tail~ Not edited, please ignore grammar mistakes!

WC: 1.8k

You didn't speak German, when you met Kurt you vowed you'd try to learn. You asked him to help you from time to time, and he gladly did. He always praised you for words you got write, and gently corrected you or helped you when you got something wrong or simply couldn't remember. But even if you missed a day, you forgot everything. It was frustrating for you, how you couldn't retain something so simple. Kurt knew how you felt, so he thought he might change up the lessons to make them a bit more...interactive.

"We will start off easy, liebling." he hummed and sat in front of you, looking down at you on the floor. You were trembling and looking up with anticipation, biting your lip, squirming slightly on the vibe he had on your cunt. "Numbers. One through ten, ja?" he turned the vibe on a low setting, enough to jerk you up slightly, but not enough for you to reach your peak.

"Okay..." you rasped, crawling to be more sat between his legs. He chuckled and watched you fondle his growing bulge in his underwear. "Naughty liebchen..." he cooed, "Wait."

With a reluctant whine, you stopped and looked up at him again. Your cheeks were much hotter from the situation, he hadn't ever been this way before, but you weren't complaining.

"One." he said calmly, his tail curled up at the end as he watched you.

"Eins." you replied softly, your legs trembling. You could feel your core dampening, your clit throbbed against the dull vibration from the vibe. He grinned down at you, nodding. "Good. That's correct..." a press on the remote made the vibrator increase a notch, which in turn made you feel more pleasure.

"And what's two?" he asked, slowly pulling himself free, his cock slowly hardening as his hand stroked it. Your eyes were glued to his pretty cock, the tip beading already and you wanted to taste him.

"Zwei," you said back, hoping he'd let you suck him now. He saw your wants, but he didn't give in just yet. You were only on two after all, you needed to remember more than that first.

"Ah, good...three." he continued, hitting the next button to increase the vibrations. The second setting felt good, but not enough for you. You wanted more, and he saw your hips squirming. He smiled at you, he was unbelievably hot right now, it wasn't fair.

"Three." he whispered, "Make it to five and I'll let you cum." he promised, his hand steadily stroking himself. The promise of your climax made you feel more motivated, you were pretty confident so far. "Drei," your answer came out with a slight whine, and the vibe increased again, the third setting beginning to make a louder hum and your legs shook more.

"Das ist gut...you are doing so good." he whispered, "How about four and five? Can you remember four and five?" he asked, his hand moving a little faster on his cock. You bit your lip, spreading your legs slightly as you practically made a pool under you with how much you were leaking. "Ah...a-ah...v-vier...and....fünf..." you moaned loudly as he hit the button twice and the vibrations increased two notches.

He hummed and his tail tapped your back, urging you to scoot closer. "You did well, how about I let you reach your first orgasm? You remembered one through five, you deserve it don't you?" he reached down and cupped your face, his cock almost touching your lips but not close enough.

"Y-yes...." you whined, his finger pushed into your mouth gently and he tsked, so you corrected yourself. "Ja..." a bit muffled with his finger but...he got the gist. He nodded, his tail trailed your spine and moved between your legs. His spade cupped your pussy, feeling how wet you were and his eyes glistened.

"What a naughty girl. You are so turned on by this, hm? I had no idea this is what would get you to remember. I suppose we shall do this anytime you need a German lesson, won't we?" he pulled his thumb out of your mouth and held your chin, pulling you closer to his cock. It throbbed slightly, the head dripping sticky precum for you.

"Do you like when I am like this? You probably didn't expect it from me...but I assure you liebling...I can be however you want me to be." Kurt hummed and rubbed his cock on your lips. "Not yet..." he teased, his tail gently pressing your soaked entrance. "Tell me one through five again, sweetheart."

You were dizzy, you never thought Kurt could act like this, but hell, you weren't going to tell him to stop. You shifted, your back arching slightly, trying to get more of him to poke into you, but he anticipated this and withdrew his tail. "Kurt," you whined, pouting before reciting the numbers in German.

"Was that so hard?" he questioned, a playing smirk on his lips as his tail pushed back against you. Between his tail toying with you and the vibe, you weren't far from your orgasm. He worked you for a bit, until he felt you push your face into his thigh, moaning loudly as you felt your orgasm hit you. Your entire body shook with the shocks of it, the vibe was right on your swelling clit and it felt so intense that you swear the vibrations went straight to your toes.

"Ah...that's it...let yourself go, liebe...you're so good." he praised and groaned to himself, seeing you reach your peak almost got him to his own, his hand stroking himself hastily. When your orgasm was over, you whined and panted from the intense sensation still humming on your clit. He chuckled seeing your blissed out face, though slightly wincing from the overstimulation. "You are so beautiful...you feel so wet on my tail, liebe...can you get to ten?"

"A-aah...nngh, Kurt..." you whimpered, "S-s'too much..." you panted and held his legs. He shook his head and smiled, "Get to ten...then I'll give you a break."

He continued the slow count to ten, when he got to eight, you couldn't remember what it was. "Nngh...I-I don't remember..." you whined, your second orgasm right there....so, so close! You were right on the edge and about to teeter off when he cut the vibe's power. Your throat caught a strangled cry and you looked up at him. Your eyes held betrayal and he laughed softly.

"You know our deal, schatz...each number you get correct increases the power...for one you get wrong, you cannot come." he said calmly, explaining it in a teasing manner. His head tilted slightly, his hair curling at the ends and falling over his forehead. "Let's try again...from one."

You groaned and pouted, your forehead pressing against his leg. "Fine..." you muttered, feeling a little stubborn but obliging. One look up at him and your resolve melted away. You leaned up and kissed his tip before he could say anything in response. "Eins, zwei, drei." You said quickly, "Vier, fünf, sechs." your tongue dashed out and licked over his tip, tasting him. Your tongue took its time, slowly rolling over his head and pressing against the slit to get more of his precum.

"Sieben..." you trailed off and thought about what eight was, you had forgotten before. "Er..." you frowned, your brow furrowing in thought. His cock head came into view, you kissed the tip and suckled. "Oh! Acht!" you said proudly, making Kurt smile widely.

"Ja! Ja, das war gut!" he laughed and held the remote up a bit, turning the vibe back on. The vibrations weren't as strong as they were but they were slowly building back up. "Now what about nine and ten...?"

You moaned loudly, your already sensitive clit being stimulated raw like this made you more ready to cum a second time. The intensity of right before your climax overwhelmed you and the sensation continued. You felt like you were balancing on the rope right before free falling to pleasure, the vibrations just needed to be slightly more powerful...

"N-Neun...." you rasped, hot breath hitting his hard dick and he had to hold everything back, maintaining his composure so you completed the exercise. "A...and...zehn!" you weren't sure on that last one, but spat it out anyway.

Kurt was relieved too, he needed more from you just as you needed more from him. "Ja, good, you got them!" he turned the vibe up and he cradled the back of your head, pulling you to his cock and pushing past your lips. He bobbed your head and he groaned, "Ja...so gut...I know you've wanted this." he grunted out of a clenched jaw, his tail continuing to caress your pussy.

"More, liebling...I'm close." he warned, guiding you to bob your head quicker. Your hand reached down and fondled his balls, rolling them gently and earning louder groans from him. Each noise he made shot pleasure straight to your core. "Mmn, mmf!" you looked up at him as you tried to take more of him than you were used to.

You gagged slightly, but that didn't stop your determination. He watched with half lidded eyes as you tried your best to deepthroat him while your orgasm hit you. Your nose buried into his pubic hair, saliva dripped down his balls as your tongue pressed against his cock and protected the underside of him from your teeth. You muffled a cry as your body shook from the force of your climax rushed through you.

His eyes roll back and he jerks his hips up slightly, soon hot ropes of cum shoot out into your throat, coating your tongue as he pulls back so you don't choke. The sticky fluid fills your mouth and you eagerly drink it down. He feels you swallowing and he waits until you get it all, then he pulls himself out of your mouth.

"Oh, liebling...c'mere." he pulled you up, your poor legs trembled as you stood. He turned the vibe off and removed it from you, looking at your swollen and reddened clit. "Poor little button," he smirked and leaned down, laying a kiss against it. You moaned loudly when his lips touched your throbbing bud and he pulled back before it became too much.

He gave you that charming smile, and your exhausted face couldn't help but smile back. He would be the death of you, you swore. He pulled you into his lap and held you, kissing your neck and cheeks in a loving manner. He adored you more than anything else, and he loved how the two of you could have fun and explore these kinds of things together.

"You know...if you ever want to learn German colors..." he trailed off, flashing a mischievous grin. Maybe you could go for another lesson.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover images: Immortal X-Men #7 (2022)

[ladyelissarose]

——————— ☠️

“Oh Sergeant- been looking for yo- oof! hey- HEY!!”

SLAM!!*

Simon stood shocked with his arms out at what he just witnessed and encountered, you running away with your face in your hand while the other pulled over the hoodie you wore. You didn’t even spare him a glance and basically ignored his words as you dashed by him and locked yourself in your little room after aggressively slamming the door.

Soap peeked out of his room that was across yours and frowned when he saw Simon by your door,

“Whatcha do to piss off da lass eh?”

Simon turned into Ghost quickly at the false accusation and grunted,

“I did nothing. Now piss off Soap.”

Soap frowned harder as he muttered while closing his door, not having the balls to press further as Ghost looked displeased.

“Gee sorry Lt.”

After what felt like hours to get through your door without breaking it down, Simon had finally walked in after threatening to toss away your candy stash from his office. And now he stood before you with his arms crossed, looking down at your seated figure holding yourself tightly.

He could tell you were beyond upset, maybe even angry, as you had refused to speak to him fully and didn’t look at him as you usually did. But Simon’s concern for you had him pushing your buttons, unrelenting as he asked for the fifth time.

“What happened Sergeant?”

Silence filled the room for a bit before you

finally replied, still holding a tone of hesitation,

“they... they messed my hair up.”

Placing his hands on his hips Simon kindly insisted, hoping to get more out of you now that you had decided to talk,

“Alrigh’... let me see your face please when you speak, can’t hear ya behind your hands.”

Of course he could hear you clearly, but he wanted to see your face, let you know that you could trust him, even in your most vulnerable state. Seeing you didn’t move he pressed on, growing a bit inpatient now,

“C’mon Sergeant... don’t have all day. That or I’ll-“

Huffing and using your hands to pull down the hood you then dropped them to your lap with a tantrum like behavior as you cried,

“Ok look!! There it is-“

Lifting a ‘threatening’ finger at you Simon warned as he stared you in the eye,

“Hey! Watch your tone with me Sergeant.”

Yes he knew he had been putting pressure on that grenade of yours, but he had trained you hard to conceal the anger in order to not bust at the wrong person and time. But maybe right now wasn’t the right time to exercise such, as you sunk into your chair.

And hearing that tone coming from your Lieutenant was enough to let your eyes tear up again and that bottom lip of yours jut out and tremble slightly, maybe you deserved to be called out, but damn you weren’t feeling up to taking it right now.

Simon felt upset as he saw your saddened state, so he let brown orbs leave your sad ones as he finally took in your ‘haircut’ or more like a ‘hair massacre’, growing even more upset as he found the cause of your state.

He could tell it was no little mistake that they had done, like a slip up or perhaps it was a bit uneven- Nope... they really had the audacity to shave off the left side and chop off the right to the top, and the bottom part was just a mess of tangles and chunks cut off. Who ever did it was an asshole 100%.

Simon face palmed as he thought of many ways he could abolish the fuck out of those shit eating assholes, but hearing your soft sniffle snapped him back to you.

You came first.

He then walked closer to you and sighed, reaching for the top of your head and with his pointing finger he moved it a bit to examine it.

“What happened to your hair Sergeant?”

You hiccuped a sob while caressing what was left of your hair, wiping away some tears with your other hand.

“I-I told the girls to help me with a trim, and *sniff*.. they chopped it off and ruined it. Saying it was about time I had a change.”

Looking back into the tiny mirror you had there, you pouted at the sight of your hair all messed up and disastrous. One pride and joy you had was your hair, you had really liked taking care of it and making sure it was braided nicely and all.. and now? What about now that it’s all gone?

Simon knew about your pride in your hair and braids, or the neatly done buns you had up for missions. It was what made you, you... and he understood that. Simon knew what it was like to have something of him ripped away, like they stole a part of his identity, so of course... he could only imagine your pain.

But all he could do now was sorta fix it and assure you it’s all be fine soon.. soon once he fuckin’ breaks those assholes’ hands- hangs them from their hands- burns them- ties them and- ok.. yeah, let’s just say they won’t ever do it again.

Simon nodded slowly and hummed, rocking on his heels slowly as he dreaded what came next.

“Hmmhmm... ok, bring me my razor so you can cut it.”

Your eyes widened a bit but you replied nonetheless,

“ok...”

You knew it had to be done in order to let your hair grow back to normal, so sadly you went to a personal cabinet to look for the razor Simon preferred to use, it gave him the sharpest and cleanest cut, the shortest one too. You were a tad bit surprised he’d let you use his- but if he was going to supervise maybe that’s why.

Walking back to him you held it up close to his face, for reassurance that it was the right one. Simon glanced at it once and his eyes spoke for you, calm and affirming, it was the right one.

Like a defeated child you looked around your room for the nearest outlet, tears and your pout growing as the moment came closer.

Finally you had it connected and set, looking around confused wondering if you were missing anything, and thinking you weren’t, you were about to start until Simon held your wrist gently, causing you to halt for a second as you listened,

“Allow me?”

Looking up at him you saw the sincerity in his eyes, matching his tone. It was something so rare to see behind eyes that had seen death and hell, darkness and hurt.. but it made you feel somewhat better as you handed it to him,

“sure.. thanks.”

Taking it carefully he mumbled softly,

“don’t mention it Sergeant, now sit back and wait.”

Sitting back in your chair you played with your fingers as you waited patiently, while he prepped the area after discarding his gloves, grabbing a couple more items he needed quietly and gently. It was so different to see Simon like this, taking things slowly and being ever so gentle, unlike his rough tactics on field or his constant loud huffs he let out due to frustration.

He actually looked peaceful.

What was also very nice to see and feel during such a time was him mumbling softly at you everytime he was going to grab your head and move it, letting out a pleased sigh when you complied immediately and moved at his command.

“‘m gonna hold ya right here m’k?”

“Hold righhh- that’s perfect Sarge, don’t move.”

“I’m going behind ya ears, stay still... atta girl.”

“How’re we doin’ Sarge?”

“Hmm Hmm... almos’ there.”

Simon’s soothing Manchester voice could’ve put you too sleep, making you forget your nightmare of a day, and his gentle warm hands holding your head was making the memories and headache disappear bit by bit.

Who would’ve thought that such red hands were actually the hands of an angel? The voice behind the one that screamed at death was indeed soft and rumbling warm like a perfect motor on a winter night drive?

CLICK’

What shook you awake was when you heard out of the blue that click along with some proud proclamation,

“Aha! Look at ya Sergeant.. sporting my look. It suits you well- take a look.”

Simon pat your head and shook off any remaining hairs as you swallowed the lump in your throat and opened your eyes when you got the mirror from him. But shock was read across your face- not from seeing your new haircut- but the man behind you.

“Lieutenant?”

“Hm hmm..”

You turned around in your chair so fast you could’ve knocked the air out of you, but what actually took your breath away was the face now before you, the face behind Ghost.

There he stood in his glory, owning a few scars on his face, but they made him who he was, tiny freckles adorned his crooked nose and cheeks, his brown eyes appeared more bright without the dark masked shadowing over them, and his eyebrows matched his white lashes as so did his buzz cut hair. His lips shaped into a faint smirk as he gestured his head towards the mirror,

“Take a look at my work.. ‘is nice innit?”

Coming back to the moment you nodded dumbly and now looked in the mirror, smiling softly at your buzz cut. It was definitely new and extremely different to you, but the fact that Simon did it for you and it was like his haircut... that made you feel so much better, stronger even.

Raising a hand to feel the prickly feeling over your palm as you ran your fingers through your short hair, you chuckled lightly,

“It’s very nice Lieutenant.. thanks.”

Turning back to see him had your smiling fading a bit, as he had his mask back on already, concealing his Adonis sculpted face, but your smile lifted again when you heard a low chuckle escape his lips,

“Now we match Sergeant.”

“We do Lieutenant... but-“

“If anyone says a word about it they’ll hear from me, but I expect you to stand up for yourself first.. then I’ll knock their ass. Hear me?”

Standing up in front of his broad stature you promised, hoping to convince yourself that you would.

“I-I will Ghost.”

A gentle grip met your shoulder as he warned,

“I’ll find out if you don’t.. but I hope I don’t catch that... because I know you’re strong and better than that Sergeant.”

His reassuring words gave you a boost, like a cool ice cream after a long hot day, a comforting hug to ease the ache.

Spreading kindness wasn’t Simon’s best trait, his life made him a hard man, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t any good left in him at all, and whatever he did have left he made sure to let it out once in a while, so he could remind others and mostly himself, that he was human.

“Appreciate it Ghost..”

Simon gave you a short nod, his eyes twinkled a tad bit, as he leaned forward and planted a kiss on your head through his mask, letting you know he gifted a smile behind his mask. He then pulled back and gestured towards the door,

“Onward you go, and I’ll be keeping an eye on ya.. don’t back down.”

Heading towards the door walking backwards you saluted him,

“Affirmative sir!”

———————

Let’s just say, a few days later an odd occurrence happened? Some of the ladies had a lice infestation all of a sudden, and were ordered by the Lieutenant to shave their heads immediately in order to stop the spread amongst themselves. (Who in the hell knows how that happened..☠️

Also, you walked into your space one evening, and found a small box by your bed, containing the best hair growth products from England, with a lock and key so no one could get to it but you. And lastly a little note on top with a simple message.

‘If you ever need a trim, come find me’

(You didn’t have to guess who it was...☠️)

[billsbabydoll]

“𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁ℯ 𝒹𝒾𝓇𝓉𝓎 𝒷𝒾𝓉𝒸𝒽, 𝒾 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓉ℴ 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀!”

contains:PURE SMUT<3

summary:tom looked so hot sitting there in his work studio, so as any sensible person would, i took the opportunity to anger him to his breaking point, causing him to teach me a brutal lesson.

WARNINGS:hard-dom!tom, sub!reader, teasing, pet-names, daddy kink, degrading, SLIGHT spit-play, SLIGHT choking, HEAVY dirty talk, slapping, misogyny kink, pinv (on a desk?), VERY rough sex, orgasm denial, reader is just a fucking horny slut :3.

notes:this is a very dirty, filthy, disgusting, pathetic piece of work that i felt i needed to bless you all with, enjoy bbys.

the way his fingers grazed over the keyboard…

the way his half-opened eyes tiredly focused on the screen before him…

the way his leg steadily bounced up and down to a simple rhythm…

i could stand here for hours just drooling over him.

i was currently cleaning up around our shared home, taking long breaks in between to peak into his office to just “check in” or see if he “made any progress”.in reality i was really coming in to stare at him and give him a quick peck, it was killing me not to toss that computer out of the way and make him have me right there.

infact an idea soon popped into my head, why not do just that?

in a frenzy, i quickly finished cleaning up and then changed into my silk white robe, heading into the kitchen to prepare him a sandwich and some lemonade, before stepping back into his chilling cave.

“hallo meine schatz (hello my darling).”he sighed feeling my presence approaching, turning slowly to face me, watching attentively as i set the plate and glass down next to him.

“hii babe, just wanted to bring you a little something-”i replied back with a soft grin, leaning in closer to place a kiss on his cheek, then standing back up straight.

he calmly smiled back before taking the plate into his hands and beginning to dig into the sandwich, i then moved behind him now gently rubbing his shoulders.

“tom are you almost done with whatever your working on?”i asked, feeling him suddenly tense up at my question.

“its not just ‘whatever’ this is my job, its what keeps you being my hausfrau (housewife).”he replied his mouth still full, his tone suddenly annoyed.

“im not just some little house wife-”

“your not some, your MY house wife, its best we keep it that way understood?”tom interrupts, he was deprived and restless, his temper was sure to outburst at any given chance.

“what if i dont wanna do that anymore, waiting for you hand and foot gets boring ya’ know?”i playfully laughed, i was pushing his buttons perfectly.

tom stops dead in his tracks, tossing the plate down onto the ground, harshly standing up from his seat, now towering above me, his eyes enraged and utterly furious.

“you know your fucking place alright?its here obeying me your job is to do just that, do i make myself clear?”he sternly stated, his expression stone cold.

“hmm i dunno, is it really tom?”i innocently replied, swaying back and forth refusing to give him an sort of eye-contact, i was definitely getting a kick out of tempting his temper.

in a not even a second he pushes everything off the desk, then forcefully picks me up and slams me onto his desk, my back hitting the hard-wood, his strong hands ripping my robe open.

“you wanna act fuckin’ stupid huh?!”he shouted down at me, as he speedily pulled his angry cock out of his grey-sweatpants with his left hand, his right hand keeping my legs spread wide open.

i urgently shake my head side to side, needy whimpers leaving my lips as i ache to feel his full 8-inches brutally beating my insides.

“antworte mir dumme hure(answer me stupid whore)!”he spits down at me, his saliva landing upon my cheek.

“ugh-bitte bitte ich werde brav sein, das mmh-verspreche ich(please please ill be good i promise)!”i whined, slightly scooting down to rub my folds in between his tip, my arousal acting as a sticky lubricant.

tom proceeds to move his right hand away from my legs now reaching up-wards to get a grasp around my neck, his fingers firmly squeezing my air source-

“if this is what needs to happen for you to listen like a good girl, then so be it..”

with a loud-primal grunt he fully inserts himself into my cunt, his cock deliciously filling me up inch by inch, he doesnt give me a moment to adjust before beginning to pump his member deep inside my tender walls.

“mmh-daddy t’smuchh it hurtss!”i manage to cry out, my eyes immediately watering from how hard his thick girth was hitting my cervix.

“shut up you ugh-wanted to disobey me?!this is what you fuckin’ get!”he yells at me, he lets go of his grip on my neck momentarily to give me a couple aggressive slaps to the face.

“your gonna take all of it!” slap slap “you hear me?! slap slap “useless slut!” slap slap

i continued taking in his violent attack on my pathetic body, he looked so dominant and manly taking all of his frustration out on me.he was right, if this is what it took for me to be “daddys good girl” then who was i to question him?

the desk rocks back and forth with the pace of toms brutal thrusts, the sound of our skin slapping and our mixed noises echoing through out our home, the piece of furniture creaked like it was seconds away from breaking beneath us.

his dark eyes pierced into my own, he must be enjoying the sight of me surrendering to his dominance.

“fuckkk!whos daddys little good girl eh?!”he questioned, his member suddenly throbbing inside my slick sex, his orgasm reaching right at the ledge of the edge, pleading for release.

“me me me, i-im your good girl tomuhh!”

“uhh-huh you like bein’ used like this rightt?!”

“mmhm just use me oh-god!”

his pounding soon becomes even more urgent and unbearable, he extends his arm out again his hand close to my face as previously.tom stuffs his middle and ring finger deep into my mouth, as i feel his hot load of cum suddenly shooting straight down my cervix.

“can i cum, can i cum?!”i inaudibly murmured, my pussy close to completely bursting all over his cock.

“n-no no no you dont get to cum!”

he pulls out as soon as he finishes, his fingers leaving my mouth, his white substance immediately oozing out of my hole, he didnt even give me the chance to climax.

after a few heavy groans he leans forward, his limp body collapsing on top of mine, his arms snaking around my waist, his touch now delicately and not cruel.

“i love when you fuck me like that.”i breathe out quietly.

he moves his head from my shoulder, his pussy-drunk gaze meeting mine-

“and i love doing it.”

THE END

[meowmeowriley]

Unhinged and unnecessary HC to rationalize the punk Ghost skin incoming!

It's not Ghost. Ta da! Listen. Listen. I understand. Ghost, being someone devoted to the crown, wouldn't wear the anarchy symbol. And if given the comic backstory (as I always will) Ghost most likely would hate punk music because of his father.

So why punk Ghost? It's not Ghost. It's his son. His and Johnny's. Maybe he's blood, maybe not. Doesn't really matter. They raised the boy. He's theirs. And he resents the crown and the military for how it broke his fathers. Maybe he lost them both, either together or at different times. Maybe they died in the field, or in the hospital due to complications from an injury they got on the job. Maybe they didn't even die, they were injured and dismissed and tossed aside like trash. Whatever the reason, he's angry.

So he joins up with some men who stand for everything his fathers didn't. Fuck their militaristic peace bullshit. It starts small, protests and parties mostly. But then as he finds himself getting closer with the others, he's asked to take part in some extracurriculars. Raids on police and military caravans. Harmless, he tells himself. Good even, they're preventing those in power from enforcing their tyranny, he rationalizes. Things get more radical the longer he's in. Things escalate. He's in too deep. They're a resistance group. They fight back. He looks back on the combat training his fathers pushed on him at a young age more fondly now, as it served him and his purposes well.

He doesn't see how he's exactly like his fathers, won't let himself. But he is. Just a man who follows orders and fights tooth and nail. But he does love his fathers. He misses them. He takes up Simon's mask and Johnny's hairstyle, incorporates them into his look. Makes them his own. An attempt to honor them, despite their different stances on how to do good.

A mission, he's stopped hating when they're referred to as missions a while ago, has himself and his team breaking into a military research facility to investigate and destroy what they found. A new weapon to hurt innocent people, he was sure. Except it wasn't, exactly.

Teleportation? Couldn't be real. He read the files with an air of disbelief. He was distracted, rookie mistake, a scientist gave him a shove, he fell into the teleporter. The man shouted something about finally having a human test subject and slapped his hand down on a button. A flash of blinding light enveloped him, and suddenly he found himself in a hallway. Disoriented, he walked about, trying to figure out where he was.

A man in a bucket hat rounded the corner ahead of him and stopped, looking him up and down with an exasperated sigh. "Ghost what the fuck are you wearing this time?" Ghost. His dad's callsign. This man thought he was his dad. What would his dad do in this situation.

He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. That should do it. Thankfully his sleeves were down covering his tattoos. They were different from Simon's and could've given him away.

"Whatever. Come on then." The man kept walking and he did his best to imitate Simon's walk. His mind raced, an obvious military man thought he was his own dad was worrisome, as the old man was gone, and he needed to get away without arousing suspicion. He'd have to play along then.

That plan went tits up the second he followed the bucket hat man into a room and found himself face to face with his fathers. His fathers who were able bodied and young, same age as himself.

The teleporter hadn't just sent him somewhere else, but had sent him back in time as well.

Johnny roughly ripped off his mask and slammed him against the wall. "Who the FUCK are you?!" Simon menacingly slid a knife out of his sleeve and deftly twirled it around his fingers. Right. They weren't his dads yet, just the crowns attack dogs.

[filmologetica]

I’LL MAKE YOU FORGET YOU’RE GAY — soldier boy

pairing: soldier boy x demigod!reader

the one where: the reader tries to make a tiktok with ben.

warnings: +18. soldier boy (y’all know he’s pretty much a warning himself), language, mentions of sex, established relationship, a little bit of grumpy x sunshine.

a/n: english is not my first language and this is my first time writing.

Ben was aware you were awake for quite some time now. He knew that because even from far away in the big apartment he could not only hear your giggles while still in bed, but he could also hear all the Tiktoks you were watching. Which, by the way, he thought was the stupidest thing ever created.

He drank his coffee silently on the couch, trying to focus on the newspaper in hand. The whole supe thing was a lot, but the super hearing was what got him the most. Living in New York was noisy enough for humans, let alone for superheroes. Sometimes it took him quite a while to be able to focus on what he wanted, and you knew exactly how frustrating that could be, after all, being a supe wasn’t easy on anyone you’ve ever seen. Your case was slightly different. You weren’t a supe after all, just a demigod.

“Morning, handsome.” You purred, hugging Ben from behind on the couch and kissing his cheek before hiding your face in the crook of his neck. “Bed’s so cold without you.”

“You’re a daughter of Apollo.” He says, without even looking away from the paper.

“So? You’re a different level of hot.” Ben can’t hide the smirk on his face after hearing you. Leaving the cup on the center table and the paper on the couch, he looks at you, pulling you to his lap.

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve heard around.” You can’t help but roll your eyes. He winks at you, nonchalantly. “Thought you were gonna spend all day watching those stupid fucking videos. How are you fucking able to see the same fucking thing over and over again and still find it fucking funny?”

“Dear gods, how can you kiss me with that mouth?!” You playfully push his shoulder with a frown.

“You know I can do so much more with that mouth, Doll.” You could feel his voice getting lower and his hands start to roam over your naked legs. “Need a reminder?”

“Maybe I do.” You moved your hips a little, adjusting your positions making your ass fit perfectly where you could feel his cock. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll grant you the best head you’ve ever had-”

“Deal.”

“Let me finish!” You roll your eyes once again. “I’ll give you the best head you’ve ever had if you make a tiktok with me.”

“Fuck no.” Ben pushed you out of his lap, grabbing the empty cup and taking it to the kitchen.

“Please!”

“No.”

You followed him around like a lost puppy. “It’s a free blowjob!”

“Well, I already get lots of these. Think of something better.” Ben crossed his arms looking at you with no hints of humor.

“Period sex?” You knew how hard it was for him to spend days without fucking you when you had your period.

“Done that.” He slapped your ass before leaving the kitchen unimpressed.

“ANAL!” You yelled and Ben stopped in his tracks. Turning around slowly you regretted the whole conversation. He watched you smirking mischievously. That dirty look on his face making your panties wet.

“Grab your fucking phone, Sunshine.”

Positioning your phone at the center table was easy. The image was good and clear. You were sitting on the couch wearing one of Ben’s big shirts and he had an amused face thinking about how easy it was going to be. But well, you had your tricks.

Pressing the record button, you were fast with your words. “Ok. So, this is a simple trick I’ve learned on Tiktok and it actually works. Ready?”

Ben frowned in his place, moving closer to the camera with full attention and no idea what you were talking about or what was about to happen. “I guess.”

“From the minute I snap my fingers you’ll forget you’re gay.” Snap.

The look on Ben’s face was confused as hell. “What? I’m not gay!”

“IT WORKS!” You laughed amazed with the scene. Maybe dating an old men was really fun after all.

“What works? I’m not fucking gay, Y/N.”

“You really forgot! Oh, gods! That’s amazing.”

“Yeah, I’ll show you how gay I am while my fucking cock is deep inside that pretty little ass of yours fucking you raw.”

And you pressed the button to stop.

[dark-and-kawaii]

༺ 𝐀 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 & 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐄𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐮𝐩 ༻

Raphael

Self-indulgent Oneshot: You were desperate at this point, your body moving on its own searching for sweet release, but only a release a certain Devil you know could give.

Pairings: Raphael x Tav/Reader

NSFW | You’re On Top Fucking Raphael

Raphael stood at the edge of his bed, observing as you approach him with a determine gleam in your eyes. As you reach the devil, your nails dig into his top, forcefully tearing it open from the front, the buttons of his top falling to the floor. He can't help but chuckle at your audacity.

He’s about to speak, but you have no time for words so instead you interrupt him, pushing him onto his luxurious bed. How could a devil look so appetizing, his shirt undone, exposing his chest solely for your visual pleasure. He laughs, amused by your eagerness. "Such an eager little pup," he exclaims. You crawl on top of him, your lust for him overpowering any rational thoughts. Yes, he is a devil, someone you should never trust, but in this moment, all that matters is him.

Straddling Raphael, you lean forward, your tongue descending upon his chest, a wet tail moving up towards his neck, playfully nipping at it. His moans resonate like sweet music in your ears. Your hands glide through his silky, chocolate-colored hair, its softness exceeding your expectations. His hips subtly arch at your touch, you know he has Haarlep but it leads you to wonder if he's starved for actual physical contact. The thought only fuels your desire to continue ravishing him.

Before the night draws to a close, you reduce him to a disheveled mess, pinning his hands above his head. Biting your lip, your pussy burning with ache, the wetness trickling down your thighs as you eagerly ride his rigid cock.

Raphael's fists clench above his head, trapped in your grip. Your body moves with unrelenting fervor, bouncing up and down on his throbbing cock, your mouth agape with pleasure each time it hits your sweetest spot. Your mouth hangs open, gasping for air as each forceful bounce hits your sweetest spot, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your entire being.

With his eyes closed, Raphael savors every sensation, fully immersed in the pleasure of your body and the vice-like grip of your tight cunt. Keep this up and he’ll have no other choice but to chain you and keep you as his dear little pup for all eternity. A vision of you on your knees with your head resting on his lap has his teeth clenching.

Sweat cascades down your bodies, both of you drenched in pure lechery. His cock pulsates and throbs inside you, as you surrender to the intoxicating feel of his body. You can feel your climax building, a tidal wave of ecstasy ready to crash upon you both.

With a low growl, Raphael forced his wrists out of your hold and pulls you close, your bodies melding together, his strong chest providing a safe haven for your pleasure-addled mind. The intensity swells within you, reaching its breaking point, as his devilish seed surges deep into your drenched and insatiably hungry pussy. You can't contain it any longer, and with a scream that echoes through the room, you call out his name, your body convulsing with the force of the third orgasm that ripples through you, leaving you utterly spent and completely satisfied.

As you catch your breath, you gaze at the devil known as Raphael. His mouth hangs open, his harsh breaths attempting to regain composure. It dawns on you that he allowed you to have your way because you lavished his body with the attention it craved. You lick your lips, captivated by his delectable appearance in this vulnerable state. It makes you never want to leave his side, and it hits you- fuck... Have you fallen in love with the devil?

The realization hits you like a fireball, causing goosebumps to run down your arms. Love for a devil? It defies all reason and logic, but the intensity of your feelings cannot be denied. You find yourself captivated by Raphael, drawn to his dark allure and intoxicating presence. The way he submits to your desires, the pleasure he bestows upon you.

You lean your head against his chest, your breath mingling with his as you whisper, "Raphael, I think I'm falling for you." His eyes meet yours, a mix of surprise and satisfaction dancing within them. A wicked smile tugs at the corners of his lips, revealing his delight in your confession.

"Ah, my sweet pup," he murmurs, his voice laced with a seductive purr. "Love is a dangerous game, especially when played with a devil. But if you're willing to surrender yourself to me completely, I shall make you mine in every sense of the word."

And he meant it, he’d make you his… Body and soul.

[girlleon]

B-E-H-A-V-E, ARREST US! (ITALIAN MOBSTER, LOOKING SO PRECIOUS!)

leon kennedy x fem attorney reader

warnings: unwanted advances, car crash, ummm he breaks into your house… slight misogyny in his internal monologue? ooc leon too. Obsessive behavior if you squint. copious amounts of pet names because he’s on some shit. more unreliable narration. title taken from kill v maim by grimes

an: this was inspired by the courtroom scene in the dark knight sorry hope you enjoy :)

Leon Kennedy looked like he was having the time of his life as he was yanked out of the prison’s bus, smiling smugly as he was led along to the courthouse. Some cops had to push the press out of the way as they tried to shout questions at him, shouting at the press to get back and clear the way. You wouldn’t think a criminal trial would get such a big production, and yet. The head of the Salazar crime family gets caught on RICO charges and the press goes insane.

He doesn’t get a glance at you as he’s ushered in for the first day of cross-examinations, chains around his wrists and ankles jangling.

The presiding judge arrives and all stand before sitting. The charges are read—hundreds of counts of extortion, racketeering, witness intimidation, obstruction of justice, et cetera. Then, he’s brought up to the witness stand. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God, yadda, yadda. “I do.” He wears that smug smile like the Armani suit he chose today, sitting with a bang of the gavel.

And aren’t you just so cute, in your little skirt suit and button-up shirt. A cutie like you shouldn’t be in a courtroom, you should be in his bed. What a cute little Assistant District Attorney, he should’ve looked you up when he had the time, he didn’t know the DA’s office hired such adorable looking little things.

You look visibly uncertain when you catch him eyeing you up and down, looking back at the big bad DA—Redfield or something—who sits at the table looking extremely unamused. “Please state your full name for the record.” You tell him, thumbing through the little manila folder you’ve got in your hands, heels clicking on the floor.

He leans forward into the microphone with a small smirk. “Leon Scott Kennedy.” He’s not listening to a word you’re saying as you pace in front of him, only clueing in when you look at him expectantly, eyes bright behind your glasses. “Can you repeat the question?”

You look so cute when you frown in irritation, he might just eat you up. “I asked if you can explain the thousand percent exponential increase in your earnings in just one month.” You fiddle with the papers, eyes flicking off to the side. “Exhibit ���C’ in front of you.”

“Ah.” He looks down and spots the cute little graph, wondering if you made it. “My investments turned out swimmingly.”

“Your investments.” You repeat flatly. Cute little habit you have of parroting him. “Who did you invest with?”

“Oh,” He waves a hand blithely, “a new company, you wouldn’t know them and don’t need to worry your pretty head about it.”

You freeze, not sure what to do as he flirts with you so openly.

The judge gives him an irritated look and says, “I’ll remind the defendant to remain civil.”

Leon shrugs it off, he’s made of iron, he can handle this little bit of pressure, it’s good for him anyway. And he loves a challenge.

You clear your throat a little nervously, leafing through the notes you have. Aw, your little hands are shaking minutely, he bets if he held them, they’d shake more. “This company has no record of existing before those investments.”

Leon blinks. See? The pressure’s good for him. He gives you a slight smile as he recalibrates, linking his hands together in his lap. “Is that so? Then where would it come from?”

“Why don’t you tell the court?” Comes out a little short and his lawyers object on the grounds of it being combative. He watches you count to ten before you calm down enough to nod to the judge when he tells you to tread carefully. “I’ll rephrase: I’m hoping you can tell us.”

Leon leans so close to the microphone that his lips nearly touch it. “I think you mean, you’re hoping I can tell you.”

Your jaw tenses, and that can’t be good for your teeth, a pretty thing like you shouldn’t be so stressed. Unexpectedly, you go with it, shrugging blithely before you say, “Sure.” Your move, is what you really mean.

He grins widely, amused and delighted all at once. “I had my friends do a little digging for me to find a suitable investor for our… money.”

“Uh-huh.” You shift a little, your confidence coming back. “What made you trust this investor?”

He comes to a pause—he hadn’t been expecting that. “What do you mean, counselor?”

You grin just this side of smugly at getting him slightly off kilter. “This investor has no prior portfolio of successes or failures. How could you trust them if you have no background?”

Leon’s chains jingle as he spreads his palms with a shrug. “Investing is risky. And everyone has to start from somewhere, Tesla wasn’t built in a day.”

The jury and gallery murmur before the judge bangs his gavel for silence.

He watches your face harden in annoyance. “A bit of an unnecessary risk, no?”

“Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?” He throws out to see you confused, your head cocking at him as your brows furrow. You stare at him for a good few minutes and he can’t resist leaning in with a slight smirk and asking, “Cat got your tongue?”

The judge reminds him again to behave, if he does that again, he’ll be taken to jail in contempt of court. Oh, but that would be fun, wouldn’t it? It’d be an inconvenience for him, but to see the little look on your face as he’s walked away�� he’ll keep that in mind.

You clear your throat and he watches you swallow, throat bobbing. “What made you choose to throw your lot in with a company that didn’t exist before the very month before your earnings increased?” He can practically see you telling him to dig a hole, any hole.

Leon shrugs. “Gut feeling. And my friends had given me good things from them.”

“How come their investments never showed up in their portfolio?” He watches you try to contain your glee. You’re too cute when you’re trying not to look too happy and remain professional, he bets if you won—which you won’t, he’s made sure of that—you’d be skipping down the courthouse steps.

Leon pauses for a long while, eyeing you as he considers all the possible answers—I never asked, why don’t you ask them, it was under the table—before he settles on, “My mistake, counselor, I’ll clarify: I’d meant that my friends had heard good things about them through the grapevine.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” You say, eyes narrowing slightly. “I’ll repeat myself: that company—CAPCOM Industries—doesn’t have a prior portfolio of investments, good or bad. How could they have heard good things if there’s no previous work, if they don’t even exist before the month when your earnings went up?”

The defense objects on the basis of badgering, which the judge overrules.

Damn, you’re good, and foxy in all the ways that can be meant. Which leaves him with one option. He smirks and leans into the microphone, maintaining eye contact for a stilted amount of time. Eventually, he says, “I plead the fifth.”

Oh, beautiful. You couldn’t have given him a better reaction. Your jaw drops open and you stare at him for a long while as he sits back against the witness chair.

He’s cross-examined for a few hours before you’re all adjourned for a two hour long recess.

Cross examinations go on for five more days before closing statements come, this trial having gone on for a month at this time.

Defense goes first, blathering mindlessly about how Leon has a right to spend and earn his money how he chooses, on and on. He tunes it out, more interested in watching you pull your silly looking peacoat off and hang it over the back of the chair, dressed in a cute little button up and slacks set, your hair gathered at the back of your head. How cute, he bets they’d look cuter on his floor. Corny, but he had to use it.

Oh, the DA’s making you give the closing statement. That’s just cruel, you’re just a little creature and should be protected. To him, it just looks like a little girl trying to walk in daddy’s shoes.

You get up and shift around the edge of the prosecution’s table, your notes in hand. Wow, you really fill out those black slacks so well, he’ll have to thank whatever God is out there for building you like that.

He tunes in when you say: “You all have had the chance to hear many things over these past few weeks.” Your hands shake slightly, cue cards creasing at the corners. “That Leon Kennedy is being wrongfully prosecuted, that we have no right to poke into a man’s business and how he makes his money.”

He watches you pace in front of the jury, loafers whispering on the floor. That’s a shame, he likes you in heels, really makes your legs look long.

“You also have heard testimonies about how police have been hindered from doing their very jobs for fear of one bogeyman. You’ve heard testimonies of people he’s sold drugs to in front of NA meetings. On and on.” He watches you turn around and meet his eyes, tongue darting over your lower lip. He swallows when he sees that, stomach flipping. That’s embarrassing, he’s a grown man, he doesn’t get butterflies.

“When you take all that away though, all that remains is one man, this man.” You turn back around and point at him behind you. “No man is above the law, especially not one who terrorizes our city. We must take it back from him. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, for your time.”

The judge waves a hand and the bailiff takes Leon out of the courtroom to wait out the verdict in his jail cell. He maintains eye contact with you the entire time he’s dragged out of the courtroom, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

The next day, all parties are brought to court to hear that the jury is deliberating. The next day, the same. The day after that and the day after that are the same. The entire next week, the jury is still sequestered and deliberating.

Until you wake up one day, a pit in your stomach as you dress for court and wade through the paparazzi and news outlets on your way into the courthouse.

All rise as the judge presiding enters, all remaining standing when the jury spokesperson finally answers the judge. “We’re deadlocked, your honor.” She says solemnly, “We’ve been deadlocked for weeks, nobody will budge.”

Your stomach drops all the way down to mingle with your intestines, your knuckles blanching at your side.

The judge sighs and looks down. “Then I’ve no choice but to declare the state of New York versus Leon S. Kennedy a mistrial. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, for your time. Case dismissed.” He bangs the gavel with a sense of finality.

Poor baby, you look a little like you have to sit down when you hear that. Leon shakes the hands of his lawyers, smiling like the cat that got the canary before he looks over at you.

Even worse, you can’t retry him with these charges because it’d qualify as double jeopardy. The bailiff contemptuously uncuffs him and he rubs his wrists, watching you stand there with your mouth agape, looking positively destroyed at not being able to put him behind bars. He bets you look just a little like that after being fucked silly.

Jeez, little thing, you don’t need to look so damn sad about it, he’s sure he’ll slip up at some point and you can have your fun with trying to prosecute him and igniting your little cat-and-mouse-game.

He makes a point of waggling his fingers at you as he walks by. “Don’t be so sad, cupcake.” Leon says blithely, sauntering out of the courtroom like he owns the damn place. “Better luck next time.” He calls out, a smug laugh echoing off the marble as he walks away, the doors shutting behind him firmly.

You’re at the DA’s office for the rest of the day, trying to get the files in order for the archives because a lawyer’s office is a little like a church—you never get rid of anything that may be important, no matter how old it may be.

You’re in there for a long while before you go out to the parking garage around two thirty in the afternoon, your car flanked with paps. It takes a while until they let you go, having to lay on the horn until they scramble out of the way and you’re free to go. You’re most of the way home when you notice a black SUV following you. Your hands flex on the wheel as you speed up just a little, taking a right turn to test your suspicions.

They follow.

Could be just a fluke. You take another right turn.

They follow again.

Could be another fluke and really awkward, anybody ever tell you that you’re paranoid? You take a third, then fourth right turn, the SUV following you the entire time.

Okay, so you’re not paranoid, and you’re being followed. You take every almost legal action you can, too caught up in the SUV behind you to note the SUV aiming right for you on your left.

The cars collide and your air bags go off, knocking you unconscious and giving you a bloody nose. Thank God you’re not awake, otherwise, you’d notice that the driver gets out of the car to see how you’re faring before speeding off.

You come to when the paramedics are there and trying to stabilize you, your neck in that stupid looking brace as they ask you questions you already know the answer to, hauling your sorry ass into the ambulance after gathering your bag and hightailing it to the nearest hospital.

You’re given two of morphine as you’re kept alive long enough for them to cart you to the hospital. You’re in and out of it as the EMTs give the hospital the details of you being t-boned, loss of consciousness at the scene, pupils equal and active, and so on and so forth. The doctor asks for your name and you give it a little sluggishly, but correctly. They work on you in a trauma room, x-raying and suturing up the cuts on your face, feeling for any fractures on your nose and eyes and any abdominal discomfort.

When they deem you lucky you weren’t hurt further, you ask if they can take off that ridiculous neck brace—you’ve gotta fight them for it, but they acquiesce because you’re so good at arguing your case. When you’re taken to a hospital room to wait for the cops, you call your secretary and update her on the situation.

Are you okay? No. You rather liked that stupid car.

No, like, physically. Yeah, you somehow only got away with a couple cuts, bruises, a mild concussion, et cetera.

Are you safe? Probably.

Do you need anything? A change of clothes and something greasy in the morning, they want to keep you overnight for monitoring.

I’ll get some flowers for you! And a card! No thanks, that’s not necessary, the pollen makes your ears itch.

The police eventually make their way up and you give your statement, more and more irritated when they see it fit to try and interrogate you when you’re not under arrest, but that’s cops for you.

You have a fitful sleep because those lights are always on and your bedroom is usually kept dark, you like honoring your circadian rhythm. Which is why you’re awake at seven when you receive a call from an unknown number.

“This is the assistant district attorney speaking.” Your voice is a little scratchy from lack of water, you have to turn and clear your throat.

He chuckles on the other end of the line, the sound making you freeze. “Did I interrupt your beauty sleep, counselor?”

You straighten up. “How did you get this number?”

“I have my ways.” Leon replies casually, “How are you feeling?”

“Shitty.” Mild concussion, one major cut and two minor cuts on your face, a minorly broken nose and bruised ribs and sternum, but you’re fine.

He laughs on the other end of the line, warm and… affectionate? “Such language so early in the morning.” He tuts, his sheets rustling as he shifts.

You grind your teeth and count to five before you respond, holding your phone so tight you think you hear the case creak. “You hit me with a car.”

He scoffs, shifting his grip on his phone. “I certainly did not.”

“Then you had your underlings do it.”

He laughs again and you almost want to throw your phone. “You’re sharp.” Indirect confirmation, this entire conversation is inadmissible in court. Motherfucker. “I like you, you know.”

You pause, anger momentarily dissipating. “What?”

“I like you.” You can damn near hear his smile.

You pause for long enough that he wonders if the line went dead. When he checks, his phone still has that timer counting how long you two have been on the phone: edging onto five minutes. He waits for a little longer, eventually starting to feel uncertain when you repeat, “You like me.”

He laughs, just slightly tinged with relief. “Yeah. So? Is that so hard to believe?”

Coming from the man who arranged for you to be in a car accident? Yes, absolutely. “Yes.” You say shortly, eyes wandering around your hospital room. “Absolutely.”

He tuts on the other end of the line, more rustling coming through as he shifts and gets out of bed. You never would’ve taken him for an early riser, you thought he was the sort of guy to laze around until the last possible moment—but then again, you’ve known a lot of drug dealers in your time and not all of them were lazy. Dealing drugs, apparently, requires a lot of hard work, regardless of whether it’s street operations or organized crime like Leon fucking Kennedy makes most of his money. “That’s a shame, I was hoping I could take you out.”

And apparently, he has a fondness for double entendres, you just know he’s holding back a cackle. But even onions have layers.

“Not happening.” You feel immensely satisfied when he pauses this time, holding back a smirk of your own.

“May I ask why not?” He asks eventually, voice carefully level. You get the feeling that he’s never been rejected before.

You pause in turn this time, befuddled as to why he’s even asking why not. There’s many things: he’s evil, you’re on opposite sides of the law, you don’t even like him one bit, it’s a conflict of interest—“You know why.”

“No,” He says firmly, surprising you. Okay, maybe you can see why he became the Don. “I want to hear it in your own words. Why not?”

It’s your turn to pause, staring at your phone as the seconds tick by. “You’re a mob boss. Why would I want to go out with you?”

“Why don’t you?” He presses, voice hardening before he reminds himself that he catches more honeys with fly, rather than vinegar, or whatever the stupid saying is.

You hang up on him and put your phone on do not disturb when he calls you back. You’ve got a caffeine headache and a concussion headache and it’s too fucking early to deal with this bullshit. Your secretary finally gets over here around eight thirty with a change of clothes hanging from her arm and a bag of appropriately greasy food and a coffee for you. She pauses in the doorway when she sees you, brows furrowing in concern. “Jesus. You look like you got hit by a car.”

You frown at her, setting the clothes at your feet when she comes closer, passing you everything you asked for. Food gets eaten and burnt coffee gets drank first, grimacing with every sip. You can’t change yet, still hooked up to all these monitors. A doctor comes in at nine-oh-five sharp, flipping through your chart before he asks the perfunctory questions and declares you safe to go home—gotta love the American medical system. A nurse unhooks you from the monitors and gently drags the IV needle out of your vein, giving you privacy to change.

You’re summarily sent home with a concussion care sheet and strict orders not to return to work for two weeks. You’ll stay home for a week at absolute maximum, but it’s the thought that counts. You and your secretary take her car to your apartment because yours is totaled and you argue with your insurance most of the way there. When you get out, she stops you with a gentle grab of your wrist. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come up with you?” She asks, teeth digging into her lower lip.

“I’m a big girl.” You snort, gently removing your wrist from her hold. “You left the key in the right place, right?”

“Yeah…” She says reluctantly, left leg bouncing.

“Okay, then. See you in a week.” You get out of the car the rest of the way and she calls back, “Two weeks!” Before speeding off. You make your way to the apartment building—one of the most secure in the city—and buzz yourself in, walking through the lobby and garnering a few stares as you walk over to the elevator and press the button for your floor. You lean against the wall for support, pressing a hand to your aching head.

You sigh once you’re inside your penthouse, toeing off your shoes and hanging your bag on a hook by the door, trudging to your room and collapsing on your bed. It takes you three days of medical leave for you to become officially restless, you hold out for the next four days before you come in on Monday to your desk covered in Get well soon! Bouquets. You pause and stare at it, then note a giant teddy bear holding a heart that reads: You’re bear-y cute!

No note for the flowers or teddy bear, but you know who they came from.

You have a normal month of work, discarding the bouquets Leon sends every damn day. Just how much money is he throwing away trying to woo you? Eh, just a penny in the bucket; when you were gathering evidence for that RICO case against him, you saw how much he made in a month, easily your yearly salary.

You come home from a long day—your office is litigating another for a miscarriage of justice, you haven’t come home in days—sighing as you hang your coat and bag up, freezing when you hear a gun clicking. “A little cliche, isn’t it?” You move a little slower as you toe off your shoes, kicking them over by the shoe rack. “The click of a gun as a greeting, I mean.”

Leon laughs, then puts the safety back on the gun, setting it on your coffee table. “Why not have a little theatre in your life?” He eyes you as you turn on the lights, revealing you, consummate professional in your adorable looking slacks and button-up shirt. “Anybody ever tell you that you fill those out really nicely?” He says, eyes on your thighs and ass as you walk over to the kitchen.

You grunt in disgust, pulling your hair down from where it was gathered at the top of your head. “How did you get in?” You ask as you fill up a glass with tap water. Really, you’d rather go for a mixed drink or some wine, but you don’t trust him enough to drink in front of him. This is really just the horseshit icing on the bullshit cake, to be honest.

“Pfft.” Leon waves a hand. “Key on top of the door. You should’ve moved it after your assistant came and got you clothes the day you got out of the hospital.” He shifts, long legs crossing. “How are you feeling, by the way?”

“Better.” You say shortly, keeping space and the counter between you two. “It’s amazing that I wasn’t more hurt.” You walked around with a butterfly bruise across your nose for a while and the DA had to keep you out of court until it cleared up, but you’re fine.

He smirks, pink mouth pulling up and to the side. “Yes, quite a miraculous thing.” He sighs and gets up, buttoning his suit. Is that what he thinks real people dress like? Jesus.

“I find that I rather like you alive, not dead.” He says conversationally, looking over at you and really taking the chance to drink you in, brows twitching together when he sees how tired you look.

That’s not how you’re supposed to look, you’re supposed to look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and all excited. “You look tired, bunny.” He tells you, leaning against the table.

You stare at him for a while, head cocked to the side. “Work.”

“Ah.” He kisses his teeth, eyeing you up and down shamelessly. “There are easier ways to make money, sweetheart.”

“I love my job.”

He laughs, soft and deep. You shift a little from foot to foot, nails tapping against the counter.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, babydoll.” He waves a hand and watches you bristle, shoulders stiffening and drawing up. “You can’t offer a guest a drink? I’m parched.”

You frown at him. “Guests are invited in. You broke in.”

He leans over and swipes the half full cup from you and turns it so his mouth can touch the imprint of lipstick you left behind. “No sign of forced entry.”

You’re a little too shocked to say or do anything. “Because you used the key.” You watch his throat bob with a swallow.

“Tomato, tomato.” He sets the cup down and gives you a debonair smile. “Anyway, counselor, I thought it’d been a while since we talked.”

You stare at him for a while. “And you can’t get yourself arrested instead?”

He laughs a little louder and your hands fist on the countertop. He strolls to your door and opens it up. “Where’s the fun in that? Get some sleep, counselor.” He calls out, door shutting behind him and rattling the pictures on the walls.

You wouldn’t think it after seeing him on the witness stand, but he’s got a dramatic streak the size of you.

Leon smirks when he sees you walk over to the holding cells, an unexpectedly stern look on your face. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this, cutie.” He drawls, head cocking as he looks you up and down, eyebrows raising.

“So you took my advice about getting yourself arrested.” You fold your arms and lean against the wall.

He gives a dashing—and a little smug—smile, eyes flicking up from where they ogle your chest. “And you can prosecute me again, I love watching you work.” He stands up from the bench, wandering over to the bars. He leans forward, hands wrapping around two as his head cocks, still grinning like a fat cat who got the canary.

You don’t move from where you’re leaned against the wall. “You’d be wasting the court’s time over a speeding ticket. The DA doesn’t take those cases.”

“Ah, not a speeding ticket, beautiful.” He uses pet names so easily. He leans in as if to tell a secret—you lean in too, straightening up slightly. “What if I’d said I turned myself in?”

Your stomach drops. “I’d say that you’re a liar.”

“Ouch, counselor.” His smirk remains on his face. “I’m many things, including a bogeyman, but I don’t lie.”

Your face warms. He really remembers your closing statement? You’ve had two cases every month since then. “Legally, financial fraud counts as lying. False advertisement, for another.”

He scoffs, blue eyes rolling before he shakes his head at you. “Where’s your sense of fun?”

You were just joking, but telling him that takes all the fun out of it. “Why turn yourself in?”

“Easy, counselor.” His—clean, warm, smooth—hands flex around the bars. “I’m not on the stand yet.”

“I’m not examining you.”

His dimples show, eyebrows jumping up as he stares at you like you put the stars in the sky. “Touché.”

You can’t prosecute him anyway because of a legal hiccup; somehow, you think he meant for that to happen, to walk into the police station, knowingly not be read his rights and to confess anyway, thus violating his third or fourth amendment, that parts not your deal, it’s the stupid cowboy cop’s fault.

You’re there, trying to do a good impression of disappointment as the judge informs everyone that the case is dropped, yet again putting these charges—and all he admitted to—inadmissible under, yet again, double jeopardy.

Leon, for his part, looks pleasantly surprised, then a little quizzical as his cuffs are unlocked and he’s set free. He catches you by the arm after lurking by the door for you to come out, dragging you to an alcove. “I was read my rights.” He tells you, blond brows furrowed as he boxes you in.

“Were you?” You ask innocently, head cocking like a confused puppy—Leon almost wants to kiss you for it. “It wasn’t on the recording of the procedures.”

He stares at you; you watch him with interest as the cogs turn behind his eyes. Understanding clicks in place and you pat his chest twice.

“I’ll see you next time, cupcake.” You tell him, close to skipping away, you’re so giddy. He watches your hips sway as you walk away, lower lip between his teeth before a smirk crawls across his face. He walks away whistling, scuffing his dress shoes on the floor.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Could I request a reader who is an adult probably scavenging some parts or an ex maintenance worker who rescues Cassie with the help of roxie and Monty who was fixed by the reader.

As the young girl came to her senses, she could only groan in pain, although it was violently cut short when she began coughing due to the surrounding dust.

She then felt a warm liquid trickling down the side of her head, eventually landing on her bottom lip where she tasted iron.

Spitting it out in disgust, she could see it was crimson red.

'What happened to me...?'

Cassie tried to move, but quickly found that her leg was pinned underneath rubble, and above that was a slab of concrete that would be impossible for her to lift up on her own. She still tried to free herself, only to stop when she felt pain.

Her eyes eventually found the smashed maintenance elevator she was thrown out of, her memories becoming clearer. 'That's right...the elevator..'

Soon her gaze fell upon the shattered Roxy-Talkie device that was once her only connection with the outside world.

Her only connection with Gregory.

Or...at least who she thought was Gregory, only for it to be a lie.

And just as the real one managed to contact her and save her from that evil endoskeleton who was mimicking him, he betrayed her by dropping the damn elevator.

"Th-That jerk...!" She coughed. "He-"

'Cassie! Is that you?!"

"Cassie! If you can hear us, hang on!"

Blinking, she turned her head to see a familiar wolf coming to her rescue, alongside an adult who looked like one of the Fazbear technicians.

"R-Roxy.."

"Cassie! Thank goodness. We thought you were a goner.." Relieved, Roxy began shoving aside whatever she could to reach Cassie. From pipes to rocks to metal sheets.

"I-I thought you were, too." The girl shuddered, feeling her tugging on her arms.

But she remained stuck and cried out in pain when Roxy tried pulling her out, to which she immediately let go. "What's wrong? I-Is your leg broken?"

"No. She's just trapped under a giant concrete slab..you're not gonna be able to lift that, Roxy. That means you're up, big guy."

"Leave it to me, boss."

Cassie felt her blood run cold upon hearing the other familiar voice...one that she wishes she didn't hear.

"Grrrah....rrrAHHH!!!"

Within seconds, the slab was lifted, and she was free to look up at whoever saved her.

It was Monty, his upper body now affixed to a glamrock endo's lower half. He loomed over her, teeth gnashed together as he stared back down, looking annoyed. "I can't hold this all da-"

"AHH!! G-GET AWAY FROM ME!!!!" With a scream, she scrambled to her feet despite being in immense pain, determined to get as far away from the monstrous gator that stalked her all night.

She couldn't let him catch her.

Not again.

And so she ran-

Until she crashed into you, nearly knocking you over.

"Cassie! It's alright!" You kneeled down, holding her closely as her panicked breathings kept getting worse--to the point of hyperventilation. "It's okay. He's not gonna hurt you, shhh."

"B-But he's...h-he's...he's....!!!" She struggled to finish.

"Cassie, it's okay. Monty's on our side now. Look."

Hearing the comforting voice of her favorite animatronic, she slowly calmed down enough to look back, seeing Roxy standing there beside Monty, who had dropped the slab.

She blinked several times, confused at why he was so calm now and wasn't trying to chase her. "How did he...? He was in the water, and...I fried him-"

"It seems like you pushed the factory reset button on him," you spoke up. "Whatever you did worked pretty well. He's got his old personality back, although I don't think he remembers what exactly happened.."

Cassie gazed at you. "I-I'm sorry..who are you?"

"[Y/n]." Smiling, you set your hands on her shoulders. "I used to work with your dad, and-"

However, you fell silent when she began sniffling, eyes watering up as her lips trembled, clearly trying to stifle her sobs. You frowned and hugged her closely. "Oh, honey.."

That was all she needed to burst into tears, burying her face into your jacket as the stress of her journey finally came crashing down on her--in the emotional sense, this time.

She had no words to described how hurt and betrayed she felt; all she could do was sob and sob as she clung to you.

Roxy almost ran to comfort her on instinct, but Monty held her back by the arm and shook his head, assuring her that you both needed the space. The last thing she needed was two dangerous-looking animatronics hovering around her.

He knew that very well.

She reluctantly listened, watching as you picked up Cassie and allowed her to hug you around the neck.

"I-I wanna go home.." She hated how pathetic she sounded, though it was the truth.

She was so very tired.

"We'll get you home, I promise." You reassured her. "We found a way out."

"B-But..what about that endo?" Sniffling, she raised her head to look at you, wiping at her smudged makeup. "I-It's still here..what if it gets out, too-?"

"Oh, it ain't going nowhere anytime soon."

Confused, Cassie glanced back at Monty, her eyes widening upon seeing the head of the Mimic in his claws. "My trophy." He grinned from ear-to-ear, before attaching it to his hip.

You chuckled. "He tore that thing up in two seconds flat. It didn't even stand a chance."

"We both kinda ganged up on it." Roxy nudged her bandmate's elbow. "Nobody messes with the Glamrocks..especially us."

"Haha. Got that right!"

"That's good.." Cassie muttered, finally calming down as she realized he was indeed back to his old self, relieved the Mimic was no longer a threat. "But..what about the elevator?"

"It's not our only way up. If I know one thing about this place, it's that we got too many damn stairwells." You huffed. "Fortunately Monty cleared a path to one that was hidden. That's how we got down here and found you."

"Yeah, I did that." The gator boasted. "You guys should be thanking me!"

"We will after we get out of this dump." Roxy reminded him, rolling her nonexistent eyes. "I need to find Gregory so I can....." She paused, feeling as though you're staring at her, before she changed her wording carefully. "....tell him what a bad "friend" he is."

"I'll tell him that myself, too.." Cassie grumbled, resting her head against your shoulder. "Can we go now?"

"Yeah." Nodding, you took out your flashlight. "Let's not stay here any longer than we need to."

[fairlyang]

Mayor que usted I🕷️

in which you wanna fuck your dilf neighbor

w/c: 2.3K

pairing: dilf!miguel x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. age gap, sexual tension, teasing, ass smacking, middle of the kitchen, almost caught, fingering

part two ~ part three

"Miguel dime una razón-" you point a finger at his chest growing more and more annoyed. (give me one reason-)

"Estoy mayor que tú!!" He exclaimed and moved your hand away from him. (I'm older than you!!)

You scoff and roll your eyes, taking another step forward and snake your arms behind his neck. "Y eso que?" You whisper and look into his eyes with a little pout on your lips. (And what about it?)

You've been trying to get into your older neighbor's pants as soon as you laid eyes on him. Damn near the second you saw him cleaning his Harley on his driveway when you first moved to the new house like eight months ago.

You kinda just watched him in awe and practically eye fucked him, watching how his muscles moved with every movement. And that black tank top fit so tightly against his physique, shockingly enough it didn't just rip with any movement.

You stood behind the moving truck watching him until your mom came out and scolded you to not be a weirdo to the new neighbors. That was until she took a look at him herself then gave you a look that she understood why you were gawking. Thus began your so called crush but more of a fascination for the older man.

You still being in your early twenties while he was in his early thirties but you couldn't care less. You didn't care at all. But he was playing hard to get, way too hard to get. You knew he would check you out at the family carne asadas or the occasional birthday party your parents would invite him to. He couldn't even deny it but claimed he was just keeping an eye on you.

Yeah right.

On your ass maybe.

"Y que tiene de malo? Nadie ni tiene que saber..." you whisper and try to lean in for a kiss but he tilts his head back. (And what's so bad about it? No one has to know...)

"No empieces-" he says in a warning tone making you whine. (Don't start-)

"Si los dos sabemos que no nomás soy yo que te da ojos. Tu también me los das Señor O'Hara." You say and he suddenly has a nervous look on your face. (We both know that it's not just me that gives you those eyes. You also give them to me Mr. O'Hara)

You grin and bring a hand down, gently placing it on his chest, "Ves? Ni me lo puedes negar." He breathes in deeply and see a faint blush on his cheeks. (See? You can't even deny it)

"Cat got your tongue Mr. O'Hara?" You tease making him groan.

Right now you were in the middle of the kitchen while the rest of your family and a couple other neighbors were in the backyard eating and getting drunk.

So you were completely in the clear, and your parents would never assume you were up to no good. You were a good daughter in their eyes. And it'll remain that way.

"I'm not going to do anything that I know I'll regret later-" he starts and you roll your eyes.

"Why are you acting like we're committing some kind of crime? We're both adults, we'll be fine..." you say and take another step closer.

He steps back now against the counter as you're in front of him not having any intentions on letting go. "And would you really regret this?" You ask softly, leaning up as he takes deep breaths.

Conflict was all that ran through Miguel's mind, he wanted you just as bad as you did him but he did not want to create any conflict with your parents. Or any of the neighbors if anyone were to find out.

Oh how badly he wanted you but right now? Just a bad time as much as he wants to. But you were pushing his buttons so well, perfectly even, but he wanted to remain strong. Though you were making it even harder than usual now.

He clears his throat and sighs, "I would."

You raise an eyebrow at him, not believing a word he says and move your hand from his chest to lightly trace along his collarbone over his navy blue button up. "Oh si?" You hum and he slowly nods. (Oh yeah?)

"Pues porque estás tan nervioso?" You question and tilt your head to the side, watching as he gulps then tries to speak. (Then why are you so nervous?)

"No lo estoy." He says making you giggle. (I'm not)

"Oh no? Entonces tengo que encontrar otra manera de hacerte más nervioso...." You whisper and lean to the side before giving him a peck on the cheek. (Then I have to find another way to make you more nervous....)

You then kiss down to his jaw then down his neck making sure to give him open mouthed kisses as well. You bring your hand slowly down his collarbone down to his neck, then right down his stomach before stopping right where the waistband of his pants was.

You could feel his breathing getting harder and it only brought more excitement into your body. He wanted this, there was no denying it.

"Y no me importa que sea menor que usted, Señor O'Hara." You murmur against his skin making him slip up and let out a moan. (And I don't care that I'm younger than you, Mr. O'Hara)

Finally.

Something to work with.

"Sabes que no debemos de-" he says but you quickly cut him off. (You know we shouldn't-)

"Pero si los dos queremos..." you whisper and finally pull away from his neck. (But if we both want to...)

"Fuck it." He mutters and quickly brings a hand to your jaw and leans down, smashing your lips together.

You immediately kiss back and almost melt when you feel his hand slip down to your waist bringing you as close as possible. Your hands made their way to his hair and lightly tugging on the curls at the back of his neck. He moaned into your mouth and it directly sent a shiver straight down your spine.

He sounded so fucking good and the way his hands were exploring your body just made you happy you were finally able to convince him.

You slid your tongue into his mouth when you feel his hands play with the ends of your skirt and lightly caressing the back of your thighs. Suddenly his hands slip under your skirt and he's squeezing your ass at first until he decides to start smacking it.

You moan into his mouth and he pulls away, bringing one hand to your waist and walks forward making you walk back until your lower back hit the kitchen island.

Suddenly he turns you around and makes you lean against the island, positioning you properly and making you arch your back. He lifts your skirt up to find a red thong, covering almost nothing and making him dumbfounded.

There was silence for a solid few seconds until you felt a harsh smack on your ass. You felt the skin warm up as he started to gently rub it and you already felt your legs shaking. "Querías esto tanto, verdad, chiquita?" He murmurs and you hum. (You wanted this so much, didn't you, baby girl?)

You bite your lip and nod vigorously, not trusting yourself to speak and also wanting to test the waters to see how he'd react.

Quickly you find your answer as you feel another smack on your other cheek and you let out a whimper. "Contéstame nena." He demands and you grin. (Answer me baby girl)

"Si, si lo quise tanto." You say and feel him slide your thong down slowly. (Yes, yes I wanted this bad)

"Pobrecita... siempre te he rechazado. Pero ya sabes lo tanto que te he querido tocar." He admits making you squeeze your thighs in newfound happiness. (Poor girl... I've always rejected you. But now you know how badly I've been wanting to touch you)

"Tenía un poco de idea..." you say softly and wiggle your ass as he slipped your thong over your already soaked cunt. (I had a bit of an idea...)

He moans and you hear shuffling going on behind you. You feel his hands separate your ass then feel some air being blown on to your desperate cunt. You shake a little and position yourself better to not have your upper half so uncomfortable on the island.

You held your chin on the palm of your hand staring out into the living room and the backdoor to the backyard. It technically wouldn't be the end of the world if someone came in because no one would be able to see Miguel, only you leaning on the counter. At least you would hope.

Your thoughts of getting caught are cut short when you feel his tongue lick a single strip down to your clit. You let out a little moan and arch your back again and spread your legs a tiny bit more for him. "You taste so good. Tan dulce nena." He moans before diving straight back in. (So sweet baby girl)

You bite your lip trying your hardest to fight off moans as he starts eating you out like no man ever has. He was eating it like a starved man and it's exactly what you needed and you knew a man like him would know exactly what he's doing and how to do it.

"Miguel~" you moan out then clasp a hand over your mouth, almost forgetting you shouldn't be making any noise.

He slurps on your juices then goes further down to start sucking on your clit. You then feel the tip of a finger make its way inside you and you could almost swear it felt like he was putting in two. "Fuck-"

You clamped against his finger as he slid it in slow all the way through. "Tan apretada... como vas a tomar a mi-" (so tight... how are you going to take my-)

He stops speaking as soon as you both hear loud laughter coming right outside the door and said door starts to open. In comes in one of your dad's work friends that lives in the neighborhood, fuck.

"Oye mija sabes en donde se fue Miguel?" He asks and you shake your head, eyes wide. (Hey honey do you know where Miguel went?)

"Ah- ah no lo he visto..." you say trying so hard not to let out a moan as Miguel was still slowly finger fucking you. (no I haven't seen him...)

You gasp as he pushed another finger in which made your dads friend step inside and shut the door behind him. "C-creo que f-fue agarrar unas p-pinzas de su casa!" You claim and pray he leaves soon enough. (I t-think he w-went to grab some t-tongs from his house!)

"Ah okay. Es que tu papá quiso hablar con el. Cuando regrese dile que tu jefe lo busca." He says with a nod then turns back to the door. (It's just that your dad wanted to talk to him. When he comes back tell him that your dad is looking for him)

"Claro! Creo que n-no tarda d-de llegar." You say with a forced smile as you feel yourself clench against Miguel's fingers. (Of course! I don't think he'll be t-too l-long now)

He nods and puts his hand on the doorknob before turning back to look at you, "estas bien? Te ves bien pálida." (are you okay? You look really pale)

You blink at him unable to think as Miguel's fingers go faster and he starts sucking on your clit. You gulp then nod, "s-si estoy bien, entre porque se s-sentía bien caliente... y para t-tomar un poco de agua..." you say slowly and he shrugs. (y-yeah I'm okay, I came in because it f-felt really hot... and to d-drink a bit of water)

"No te nos vayas a enfermar." He jokes pointing a finger at you. (Don't get sick on us)

You shake your head and smile, "no sera todo eso." (it won't be all that)

With one final smile he walks out and closes the door shut. You wait a few seconds before finally letting out strings of moans as Miguel fucked you faster and was curling his fingers up. You whimpered and already felt your orgasm build up in your stomach.

"Miguel- fuck! Se siente t-tan rico-" you cry out and feel your legs start to shake. (it feels ss-o good)

"Ya se nena, ya se." He murmurs and you moaned as he went back to suck on your clit. (I know baby girl, I know)

Your arousal was now actually audible loud which meant you were most likely a creamy mess for him which also meant you were close.

He fucked you faster almost as if reading your mind and you could swear you were about to see stars. Your vision was getting blurry and the knot in your stomach was so close to bursting.

You feel his mouth disappear from your clit making you pout and whimper, "it's okay baby, still feels good doesn't it?"

"Y-yes-" you moan and buck your hips back making you gasp as he hit your g spot repeatedly.

"Oh fuck- Miguel- I'm- mmm fuck!" You moan feeling at a loss of words.

"I'm gonna-" you cry and feel your legs shake more.

"Cum for me baby, gonna be a good girl for me and cum?" He says as your orgasm quickly washed over you as soon as you hear him speak making you clench around his fingers as you came.

You cover your mouth and feel your entire body shake as he slows down. You feel your eyes close as he slips his fingers out of you slowly. You turn your head to look at him only to watch him suck your juices from his fingers.

You watch in awe and squeeze your thighs together, somehow growing more aroused. He plops them out of his mouth then gives you a wink.

He then brings your skirt down and leans down to kiss your forehead, "hasta la proxima nena." (Until next time baby girl)

[her-satanic-wiles]

Kinktober Day 5 - Piss Kink

Papa Emeritus IV x Reader

The head of the Satanic Church is a bit of a loser sometimes, but he’s your loser, and you love to torment him.

Masterlist ⛧ Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Words: 5k.

Reading Time: 20 min.

Warnings: anal fingering, creampie, cum eating, cunnilingus, fellatio, humiliation, kink discovery, mild dubcon, (he wants to, but it’s irresponsible of him), multiple orgasms, non-discussed kinks, omorashi, oral sex, overstimulation, piss kink, PIV sex, praise kink, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, water sports

Taglist: @akayuki56 @alien-the-ghost @amazing-bobinsky @angellayercake @anonymous-appreciation @babydestinyinfluencer @bitchywitchygardener @blossomsea @call-me-little-sunshine84 @copiaspet622 @copiasslut @cosmixxdust @da-rulah @dolceterzo @dopey-fandom-girl @faithisyours @ghoulishxdelights @high-above-the-city @howlingco @inkstainedrat @kaijukimchi @kenken-the-shoggoth @ledger-kaos @magopi @megachaoticstupid @meliza1001 @miss-leto @mommy-dust @neganwifey25-blog @piaart @saintbowie @shycardinale @sisterof-sin @sodoswitchimage @the-did-i-ask @xiyingly @zombiesnips-blog

🔞 MDNI ����

The moonlight spilled through the curtains, casting ghostly shadows across the dimly lit room where Papa Emeritus IV sat, his posture slouched and a frown marring his otherwise regal features. He looked like a king without his crown, an air of defeat clinging to him as he absentmindedly fiddled with the intricate rings on his fingers. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight; beneath the menacing facade of the head of the Satanic Church lay your favorite loser, a man who often took himself far too seriously when he was offstage. Tonight, you felt particularly mischievous, ready to push his buttons and make him squirm in ways only you could.

He didn’t hear you enter his office, nose too busy buried in the stacks of paper to take heed to his surroundings. You walked behind his chair, leaning against the plushness and running your hands down his soft chest, making him jump at your touch.

“Ah, schricchio,” he said through a shaky voice. “I didn’t hear you come in, amore mio.”

“‘m sneaky like that,” you replied, voice low and tempting. You kissed the side of his cheek, before moving your lips up to his ear and nibbling at the skin there. You continued to rub your hands over his chest, massaging his body beneath his robes.

“Amore,” Copia breathed out, voice lost in the feeling of your affection. “I am too busy.”

“I know, my Papa is so stressed, though. My Papa needs to be taken care of. Don’t you want that?”

“I do. Sathanas, I do. But-”

You began to press kisses to his neck.

“Work calls, sì? I-uh… Ah, piccola tentatrice, mi fai venire voglia di fare cose cattive con te.” The groan he let out was sinful and low.

“Let me take care of you, Papa.” You moved your hand over his chubby stomach, and clutched at his crotch, his length hardening very rapidly under your touch.

Lord Below, he wanted you so badly. He wanted you to absolutely devour him in his office, work be damned. But Sister Imperator would have his head if he didn’t complete his tasks and he was already skating on thin enough ice.

You could feel the tension in his body, a mix of desire and duty, and it only fueled your resolve. “I promise, just a little break. You’ll be able to focus afterward,” you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. You could see the battle in his eyes, a flicker of temptation battling against the weight of responsibility.

“Copia, you can’t possibly think you’ll get any work done like this,” you purred, your fingers teasingly working their way up and into the waistband of his trousers, pressing lightly, just enough to elicit a sharp inhale. “Let me help you clear your mind. Just for a moment.”

With a frustrated growl, he leaned back into you, surrendering to the sweet distraction you offered. “Sathanas, you’re incorrigible,” he murmured, but the slight hitch in his breath revealed the truth. You took that as your cue to continue, your hands slipping beneath his robes and feeling the warmth of his skin against your fingertips.

“Perhaps a little indulgence is just what you need,” you teased, your lips brushing against his neck, your fingers exploring, coaxing him to forget the mountains of paperwork and the stern gaze of Sister Imperator. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Fine,” he breathed, a hint of resignation lacing his words. “Just this once.”

You pulled his office chair from underneath his desk, getting on your knees in front of him. You looked positively sinful down there on the hard, wooden floor, so eager and desperate to please your Papa. It made him stiffen below his jeans, ache for more of your touch. He wanted you so fucking badly.

You traced your index and middle finger up over those sumptuous, thick thighs, as if you were walking your hand up to his button and zipper. The goofiness made him chuckle, but he was absolutely mesmerised by you. Couldn’t get enough of you.

His chuckle was deep and rich, a sound that sent heat pooling in your stomach. You took your time, enjoying the way his breath hitched as you deliberately shifted closer, your lips grazing his thigh as you let the jeans slip further down. The playful tugging and teasing brought forth an ache in him, an urgency that left him completely at your mercy.

His clothing pooled at his ankles, hard cock standing to full attention, head red and leaking and so ready for your touch.

“Just a little indulgence, remember?” you replied sweetly, your fingers dancing over his exposed skin, exploring and teasing. “Let me remind you how good it feels to let go.”

With a teasing smile, you leaned forward, your breath hot against his skin as you placed soft kisses along his thighs, lingering just above where he wanted you most. The anticipation hung in the air, thick and intoxicating, as you slowly wrapped your lips around the tip of his length, feeling him pulse against your tongue.

“Ah, piccola tentatrice,” he groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair as he watched you. The mix of adoration and desperation in his gaze spurred you on. You swirled your tongue around him, taking your time to savor every reaction, every shudder that passed through his body.

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and innocent, a stark contrast to the wickedness of the moment. “Just like that, amore,” he encouraged, his voice a throaty whisper, urging you to take him deeper.

Feeling emboldened, you did just that, hollowing your cheeks as you slid your mouth down, enveloping him completely. The taste of him sent a rush of warmth through you, igniting a fire that made you crave him even more. You set a rhythm, pulling back only to take him in again, the soft sounds of your efforts mingling with his breathy moans.

“Sathanas, you’re so good at this,” he praised, his voice thick with lust as he fought the urge to thrust into your mouth. The way he looked at you, lost in pleasure and overwhelmed with desire, only drove you further. You knew exactly how to torment him, and you were more than happy to oblige.

He gently rested his hand in your hair, trying to resist the urge to tug and hurt you - despite how many times you told him that he could. He tipped his head back at the feel of the tip of your tongue licking over his frenulum, a gentle touch that had his toes curling in his shoes. All the while, wanton and desperate moans fell from his lips, mixed with Italian expletives that shot heat right to your core. He was putty in your hands, nothing but melted ice cream where a man used to sit. His reactions to your mouth on him was always the best thing about being on your knees for him.

Heavy breaths led to his chest rising and falling violently, his other hand white knuckling against the arm rests doing his best to keep himself grounded but failing utterly miserably.

“C-cazzo,” he hissed at a particularly strong suck from you. “Amore, you’re going to kill me.”

You could feel his body trembling under your ministrations, every gasp and moan only fueling your desire to tease him further. His gentle grip in your hair was both a restraint and an invitation, and you leaned into it, wanting him to lose himself completely in the pleasure you were giving.

“Good,” you murmured around him, the vibrations sending a shiver through his body as you pulled back for a moment to catch your breath. You wrapped your hand around him, continuing to stroke him and pleasure him while you were taking a short rest. The sight of him—his flushed cheeks, the way his lips parted in desperation—was a heady rush, making your heart race. You loved having this power over him, seeing how easily you could unravel the mighty Papa Emeritus IV.

You licked from base to tip before putting your little finger in your mouth and smothering it in your saliva, continuing to pump him and twist just like he loved. Then, without warning, you slipped your little finger inside him.

You could feel his body tense at the sudden intrusion, a mixture of shock and pleasure flickering across his face. “W-what are you—?” he stammered, caught off guard by your boldness. But there was no time for questions as you continued to stroke him, your movements fluid and deliberate, coaxing him to relax around your finger.

He gasped, a sound laced with disbelief and unexpected pleasure, and you watched, entranced, as his expression morphed into something purely primal. “Amore, I—” he started, but the words faltered as another wave of ecstasy rolled through him, his body responding instinctively to your ministrations.

And then, it happened. You felt it—a warm rush that spilled over your fingers as he involuntarily let go, the force of it catching him by surprise. His eyes widened in shock, and you froze for a moment, both of you processing the unexpected turn of events. The flow stopped as soon as it started, only a little bit spilling onto your hands. But by that point it was too late, the damage had already been done and you both knew exactly what had happened. Shame flitted across his features, but the thrill of it quickly overshadowed any lingering embarrassment.

“Oh, merda,” he breathed, his face flushed beneath his paints with a mix of humiliation and undeniable pleasure. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Does it feel good, Papa?” you teased, the smirk on your face playful yet wicked. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Look at you, completely at my mercy. Such a powerful man reduced to nothing more than a desperate mess for me.”

He bit his lip, the shame battling against the pleasure coursing through him. “I shouldn’t… but it’s—”

“Exactly,” you purred, relishing the power you held over him. “You can’t help yourself, can you? The mighty Papa Emeritus IV, trembling and leaking for me. You love being my little toy, don’t you?”

His breath came in quick gasps as he realized just how intoxicating this was, the thrill of surrendering to his desires washing over him like a tidal wave. “Please, I can’t—”

“Can’t what?” you whispered, leaning in closer. You let go of his cock and let it hang there desperate, wet and needy. “Can’t control yourself? Can’t resist how good it feels? Just admit it, you’re loving every second of this.”

“Sathanas, you’re going to kill me,” he panted, the contradiction of his words lost in the fervor of the moment. The shame was still there, but so was the undeniable pleasure, and he found himself wanting more, caught in a web of ecstasy and indulgence that you had so expertly woven around him.

“Hold it in,” you ordered him. “Don’t let any more out until I tell you.”

He nodded at your instructions like a good boy, so eager to please you. You stood and pulled your tights down along with your underwear, the cold air hitting your wet centre as you stepped out of your clothes, lifted your habit, and straddled his lap. The soft leather of his office chair stuck to your warm skin as you made yourself comfortable on top of your lover. You captured him in a kiss, a desperate kiss on his end mostly. He needed you so badly. You bit his bottom lip, earning a groan from him.

You reached in between your bodies and grasped onto his thickness, rubbing it through your folds once, twice, then three times, closing your eyes and letting out a soft, teasing moan at the feel of his cock rubbing against your clit, offering you some kind of pleasure. Then, you placed him at your entrance and slotted him inside.

As you sank down onto him, a delicious wave of pleasure coursed through you, and a breathy gasp escaped your lips. The sensation of his fullness inside you was electric, and you reveled in the way he filled you completely, the mix of desire and control palpable between you. “You’re doing so well, Papa,” you praised, your voice low and sultry as you began to rock your hips, finding a rhythm that made both of you moan.

He gripped your waist tightly, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he struggled to hold back the waves of pleasure threatening to overwhelm him. “I c-can’t hold it in mu-uh! Much long… er,” he confessed, his voice strained and thick with need. “Please, a-amore…”

“Just a little longer,” you urged, your breath hitching as you moved against him, feeling the heat radiate between your bodies. “Mmm, fuck! You want to be a good boy for me, don’t you? I know you can do it.”

He nodded, eyes darkened with lust, but the tension in his body told you he was teetering on the edge. “You’re so-oh tight,” he gasped, his head falling back against the chair, unable to keep his composure. The sight of him, utterly at your mercy, only spurred you on.

With each roll of your hips, you could feel the heat coiling tighter within you, every movement a symphony of pleasure and torment. You leaned down, capturing his lips in another desperate kiss, swallowing his moans as you pushed him closer to the brink.

“Let me hear you,” you urged, pulling back to look into his eyes, watching as he struggled to hold back his cries. “You’re my good boy. Show me how much you need this.”

With that, you picked up the pace, grinding down on him, reveling in the way his body responded, how he let out breathless moans mixed with desperate pleas. The tension between pleasure and restraint danced in the air, and you could feel him slipping closer to the edge.

“Please, I can’t—” he gasped, his words a mix of desperation and surrender, the shame of losing control mingling with the ecstasy that washed over him.

“Then let go, Papa,” you coaxed, your voice dripping with seduction. “I want you to feel everything. Don’t hold back. Not anymore.”

He bit his lip and nodded gently, unable to string any sentences together anymore. He concentrated on the feeling of your walls around him, the pleasure it was bringing him, and the tingling he felt in his own body. His full bladder, the thing he’d ignored for hours now, screaming at him to let go. And so he did.

His mouth dropped open as he emptied his bladder, making you gasp at the feel of it flooding your core. The moment he let go, warmth spread between you, enveloping him in an unexpected rush of ecstasy. A gasp tore from his throat as the sensation washed over him—both the relief of release and the intoxicating thrill of letting go in such an intimate way. The warmth filled you, a stream of pleasure mingling with the heat of his release as he filled you completely.

You felt the liquid warmth spill into you, mixing with the pulsing heat of your own desire, and a moan escaped your lips, a sound of pure bliss. “Yes, Papa, just like that,” you encouraged, your body responding to his in a delicious rhythm, both of you lost in the overwhelming pleasure of the moment.

He could feel it trickle down his cock and pool onto the leather beneath his naked thighs, spreading the warmth there too and making his balls tighten. He was so close now, so close to spilling his cum inside you after he’d pissed all over you both. The thought of it had him bucking his hips upward, too, meeting your thrusts in a desperate bid to cum as hard as he could, at this point now using your body for his own pleasure.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, a mix of shame and exhilaration in his voice, but you could see the pleasure dancing in his eyes, the way he reveled in the sensation, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Don’t be,” you murmured, your voice low and sultry as you captured his gaze. “You’re mine, remember? Just let go and enjoy it.”

The warmth enveloping you both only heightened the intimacy, and as you continued to grind down on him, the sensations twisted and turned, igniting every nerve in your body. The thrill of what had just happened lingered, and it was as if the heat of his release awakened something deeper inside him.

With every roll of your hips, the pressure inside him grew more intense, the combination of pleasure and humiliation overwhelming him. “I can’t believe I just did that,” he breathed, his voice shaky, yet filled with a sense of urgency. “I shouldn’t… it’s so wrong.”

“But it felt so good, didn’t it?” you teased, leaning closer, brushing your lips against his ear, your voice dripping with seduction. “You loved it. You’re such a needy boy, so desperate for my touch.”

His cheeks flushed even deeper, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure painting his features. “You’re g-going to… ruin m-me,” he gasped, gripping your hips tighter as if holding onto sanity itself.

“Good,” you whispered, picking up the pace again, grinding down harder. “I want to ruin you. Let go, Papa. I want to see you fall apart for me.”

The words ignited a fire within him, and he could feel his climax nearing, driven by the intoxicating combination of sensations. “I… I can’t hold it any… anymore,” he admitted, his voice breaking as he gave in to the pleasure coursing through him. “You’re m-making me feel so go-od, amore mio.”

“Come for me, Papa,” you encouraged, a wicked smile dancing on your lips. “Let yourself go completely. You’re my good boy, and I want to see you lose yourself in this. I wanna feel you come inside me.”

With a final thrust, he surrendered to the waves of ecstasy crashing over him. A deep, guttural groan escaped his lips as he climaxed, filling you with a rush of warmth that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body. The moan that tore from him was raw and unrestrained, echoing in the dimly lit office like a confession of his deepest desires.

“Merda, I’m such a mess,” he panted, panting, his voice a mix of exhilaration and lingering shame, but you could see the satisfaction in his eyes.

“Exactly,” you replied, your voice teasing and soft. “You’re my delicious little mess, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. You’ve never been more beautiful than you are right now, completely undone for me.”

His eyes were hooded over, entirely sleepy from the exertion, until he realised something. “You didn’t come did you, schricchio?”

You kissed his forehead, the sweat that sat on there had wiped away some of his paints and it came off on your lips. You wiped it off discreetly. “No, but that’s okay, my love.” You ran your hand through his hair. “Later.”

He shook his head. “Now, amore. Can you get on my desk?”

“Your papers!”

“Fottiti i documenti. I want to make you feel like you made me. Get on the desk, please.”

You couldn’t resist him, especially as your own core was pulsing with such need it felt like you were about to explode.

With a playful grin, you stood from his lap, the cool air washing over your flushed skin as you made your way to his desk. The scattered papers lay forgotten in the haze of passion, but you could feel the fire igniting in his eyes, the way he watched your every move with an intensity that made your heart race.

“Now that’s more like it,” he murmured, a smirk playing on his lips as you perched yourself on the edge of the desk. You leaned back slightly, allowing your body to settle comfortably against the polished surface, your core pulsing with the need for more. The tension in the air was thick, charged with the remnants of your earlier encounter.

“Are you going to keep me waiting, Papa?” you teased, your voice low and inviting, fingers dancing over the smooth wood, feeling the coolness against your heated skin.

He didn’t need any further encouragement. With fierce determination, he moved closer, kneeling before you, his eyes dark with desire. His hands found your thighs, spreading them apart gently as he leaned in, his breath warm against your core. “Not a chance, amore,” he replied, voice thick with lust and eagerness.

As his lips brushed against your skin, you gasped, the sensation sending shivers coursing through your body. He took his time, savoring the moment, placing soft kisses along your inner thighs, inching ever closer to your glistening heat. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, gaze locking onto yours, filled with raw need. “I want to taste you, feel you fall apart for me.”

“Please,” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper, need building within you as you shifted on the desk, desperate for more contact. “I need you.”

He didn’t waste another moment. His tongue flicked out, teasing your sensitive folds, and a moan escaped your lips, echoing in the stillness of the room. The warmth and wetness of his mouth enveloped you, sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your core. He worked you expertly, his tongue dancing between gentle licks and tantalizing sucks, drawing you closer and closer to the edge.

His movements were slow and deliberate, as if he were memorizing every inch of you. The sensation of his tongue gliding over your sensitive clit made you squirm, every stroke igniting flames of pleasure that shot through your body. “Fuck, yes,” you gasped, fingers tangling in his hair, urging him on. “Just like that, Papa. Don’t… stop.”

“Good girl,” he murmured against you, his breath sending delicious vibrations through your body, and you could feel the heat pooling in your belly, the delicious ache growing stronger with every flick of his tongue. It was as if he had unlocked a part of you that craved his every touch, every lick sending you spiraling deeper into bliss.

He alternated between licking and sucking, his mouth working you with a mastery that left you breathless. His fingers dug into your thighs, holding you in place, and you could feel every pulse of his tongue against your core, each movement pushing you closer to the precipice of ecstasy. The way he devoted himself to you, the way his eyes sparkled with delight as he feasted on you, sent shivers of pleasure coursing through your veins.

“C’mon, amore mio,” he encouraged, his voice husky with desire. “Let go, let me taste every part of you.”

With every desperate plea and moan that escaped your lips, he intensified his efforts, his tongue swirling and flicking in a way that made your entire body hum with pleasure. You could feel your legs beginning to shake, the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you, like a spring ready to snap.

You felt his tongue dip into your entrance, gathering his spend and sucking it down like it was the most delicious food, cleaning you out. It was so primal, so filthy, it made your stomach tighten and more wetness to flood your core.

“Please, I’m so close,” you gasped, your breath hitching in your throat, the world outside fading into oblivion as you focused solely on the sensations he was eliciting.

“Good,” he murmured, and you could hear the grin in his voice as he applied more pressure with his mouth, his tongue teasing your entrance, his lips kissing the sensitive skin surrounding you. “Let it all out for me.”

His encouragement sent you spiraling, and your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him closer as the waves of pleasure crashed over you. Your body trembled with anticipation, the sweet ache of needing to release building to an almost unbearable peak. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, lost in the way he worshipped your body, the way he made you feel desired and cherished.

“Let go, let me taste you,” he coaxed, his voice low and sultry, and with a final flick of his tongue against your most sensitive spot, you felt the dam break. Waves of pleasure washed over you, pulling you under in a tide of ecstasy. A cry tore from your lips, a sound of pure bliss and release, as you came undone on his desk.

The pleasure was overwhelming, a brilliant explosion of sensations that left you breathless. Every nerve in your body tingled, and the room seemed to spin as he coaxed every last drop of pleasure from you. You could feel the warmth of his mouth enveloping you, drinking in your release, savoring every moment as your body quivered beneath the waves of your climax.

As you rode the waves of pleasure, he didn’t let up. He continued to lap at your core, drinking in your essence, his tongue dancing over your sensitive folds, prolonging your release. Each gentle flick sent another shiver down your spine, keeping you teetering on the edge of bliss, and the combination of overstimulation and desire sent you spiraling further into ecstasy.

“Shit, Papa, it’s too much,” you whimpered, half-heartedly trying to push him away, but your body betrayed you, your hips instinctively rolling toward his mouth, craving more of the delicious sensations he was giving.

“Just a little more, amore,” he murmured against you, and the vibrations of his voice sent another wave of pleasure coursing through your body. “I want to feel you come again.”

With renewed determination, he intensified his efforts, his tongue swirling and teasing, driving you higher. The world around you blurred as you focused solely on the pleasure he was giving you, your mind consumed with the exquisite sensations, the overwhelming intimacy of the moment.

The oversensitivity was overwhelming; every flick of his tongue against your swollen clit sent shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your body. You could feel your legs shaking, your breath coming in quick gasps as you fought to stay grounded. It was almost too much to handle, the line between pleasure and pain blurring in the best way possible. Your fingers tangled deeper in his hair, urging him closer even as you tried to pull away from the intensity.

“Please, Papa,” you whimpered, your voice a mix of desperation and ecstasy. “I can’t… I can’t take much more.”

“Shh, just breathe, amore mio,” he soothed, his eyes glimmering with mischief and devotion. “Let it wash over you.”

He continued his delicious assault, his tongue dancing over you with renewed fervor. Each swirl and flick pushed you closer to the edge, pulling you further into that intoxicating abyss of pleasure. The warmth of his mouth, the gentle pressure of his lips, and the way he seemed to worship you made it impossible to think straight. You were utterly consumed by sensation, drowning in the pleasure he was giving you.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he began to hum softly, the vibrations sending you spiraling into another layer of bliss. A loud moan escaped your lips, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet room, and you could feel the heat flooding your cheeks as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure.

“C’mon, let go for me, schricchio,” he urged, his voice thick with desire, and you felt your body responding to him instinctively, every nerve ending igniting in anticipation. “I want to taste you again.”

With a few more skillful flicks of his tongue, you could feel the familiar tightening in your belly, the delicious ache building once more. You were teetering on the edge, caught between the ecstasy of his mouth and the desperate need for release.

“Papa, I’m so close,” you gasped, the words tumbling from your lips like a prayer. Your body was on fire, and you could feel that tension coiling tighter, ready to snap.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with an intensity that made your heart race. “Just a little more, amore. I’m right here with you.”

He resumed his rhythm, lapping at you with fervor, pushing you closer and closer to that precipice.

As you felt another peak approaching, you couldn’t hold back any longer. Your body tightened around him, and you surrendered once more, gasping out his name as the second wave of pleasure crashed over you. The bliss was intoxicating, washing over you in a torrent of ecstasy that left you breathless.

As the tremors of pleasure subsided, he looked up at you, a satisfied smile gracing his lips, glistening with the remnants of your bliss. “You taste divine, schricchio,” he said, eyes sparkling with mischief and admiration, and you couldn’t help but return his grin, heart racing as you pulled him closer for a lingering kiss. “You’re so hot when you come.”

As he stood up and hovered over you, you felt his hard cock poke against your centre again and laughed. “The first time wasn’t enough, Papa?” you teased.

“It was until I heard those sinful moans of yours, amore. Now I want to ravage you completely.”

You kissed him again, your tongue sliding into his mouth. You widened your legs, allowing him to come closer to your body. “Please, Papa,” you whimpered. “I want you to fuck me again.”

“As my lady commands,” he replied, sinking himself into your heat once more and dropping his head to the crook of your neck.

As he began to move within you, the world outside faded completely, leaving only the two of you lost in a rhythm that was both primal and tender. With each thrust, he filled you completely, igniting every nerve in your body anew and sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. You clung to him, whispering his name like a prayer, savoring the intoxicating blend of urgency and connection that enveloped you both. Time seemed to stand still as you melted into one another, the boundaries of your souls blurring in the throes of passion, leaving you breathless and utterly fulfilled as you surrendered to the blissful chaos of your desires again… and again until you were both satisfied.

Translations:

Ah, piccola tentatrice, mi fai venire voglia di fare cose cattive con te = Ah, you little temptress, making me want to do bad things to you.

Piccola tentatrice = little tempress.

Fottiti i documenti = fuck the papers/documents.

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