#should be fuckin reprimanded

[fereldanwench]

oh, wow, look at that

another request for overtime because people were just sitting on work for two weeks for ?????? reasons??????

🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

[shawtuzi]

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ cw include: oral f receiving, multiple orgasms, praise ….oh and you have two bfs in this!!

“i-i can’t do it! s’too much i’m too sensitive,” you tugged at suguru’s bun, making it more disarrayed than it already was. your toes curled when you felt eren leave wet kisses on your neck, his tatted hands moving from your hips to your chest, now tweaking at your nipples.

eren licked from your jaw to the lobe of your ear, nibbling ever so softly on it. “maybe you should give her a break sugu, poor thing said she’s sensitive,” now eren wasn’t serious of course—the sadist in him wanted to see you ruined just as much as suguru. suguru hummed against your pussy, his tongue flicking at your clit one last time before coming up for air.

“you say that yet…. you’re holding her legs back even more. ‘oughta be ashamed of yourself…ain’t that right sweet thing,” suguru asked, kissing the fat of your thigh before biting the soft skin, making you jolt. sugu had pulled two orgasms out of you so far and normally you’d be able to handle at least three maybe even four! but unfortunately you spent the day with eren and that man is as insatiable as they come.

“y-you’re both fuckin’ terrible,” you sniffled, pussy clenching around nothing when you felt suguru nudge your swollen clit with his nose. eren pinched your nipples, grunting a soft ‘watch your mouth’. suguru was quick to latch onto your left nipple, the metal ball from his tongue piercing making you mewel.

between the two men surprisingly suguru the softest one for you. even when he had to punish you at times for being a brat he’d make up for it with sweet kisses to your trembling lips while three of his fingers stuffed your soaked pussy. eren on the other hand….lets just say you’ve never acted up in front of him since the first time he reprimanded you, but that’s a story for another time.

suguru trailed his tongue from your chest to your neck, nipping at the sweet smelling skin. “lemme make you cum one more time sweetness then i’ll be done, i promise,” he whispered the last part directly in your ear, reveling in the way your body shivered at his words. eren craned his neck to speak to you in your other ear, now whispering words of encouragement. “you can do it baby, i know how tired that lil pussy is from me wearing her out but you can give sugu another one right? he didn’t have you all to himself today the way i did”

“c’mon sweetness i know you got another one in you.”

“you’re such a good girl, i know you’ll say yes and make your boyfriends proud right?”

oh you were in a treacherously long night.

[realcube]

HQ MEN AS YOUR BOSS ...with chemistry

characters ♡ oikawa, tsukishima, iwaizumi & kenma

tags/cw ♡ vaginal, dad!oikawa, implied virginity loss, breeding // degredation, dacryphilia // age gap, power imbalance // oral (giving), monetary incentive — minors dni! (sfw ver.)

♡ OIKAWA

needing a babysitter while his ex-wife is out of town and he has to go to training, oikawa is given a recommendation by his teammate. that is how you end up in his massive house by the ocean, watching his kids. before he left, he promised that if you did a good job, he'd give you the tip. you assume he simply misphrased that sentence — spanish isn't his first language, after all — but you soon realise he meant exactly what he said.

he gave you a lot more than just the tip, though. his whole length pierces into you, while your fingers try to grasp at the smooth, polished surface of the kitchen island counter he has you bent over. a futile attempt at coping with the furious billow of bliss he sends sweeping through you.

his rough grip on your waist; his hand tangled in your hair, pushing your face against the cold marble; the way he avoids moaning your name because he doesn't remember it. you know he's only using you for his own pleasure and to be able to brag to his teammates that he fucked the hot babysitter senseless in his kitchen last night while the kids were down. young and tight — maybe even a virgin — but he had the honour of pounding into your chaste pussy, using you as his personal cumdump.

"good girl." he groans through gritted teeth, relief rushing through him as he spills his seed inside you. he fucks you through his high, making your body shake with each sloppy thrust. only faltering when he notices his actions cause some of his cum to leak out of you. with his finger, he guides it back into your hole. he smirks at the implications of what he has just done, and leans down to whisper coarsely in your ear, "maybe if you get pregnant, i'll let you come live here with me. how does that sound?"

he smacks your ass and you yelp, at which he laughs.

♡ TSUKISHIMA

working for a strict boss like tsukishima at the museum was a lot of pressure. he watches you like hawk, piercing eyes burning a hole through you, waiting for you to mess up or do something slightly wrong so he can yell at and reprimand you. all your co-workers brush it off as him being a mean guy, since it's true he is like that with everyone, but they can't see how much harsher he is with you.

that's only because tsukishima is very strategic when it comes to you. he only tells you off when the staff lounge is empty; he'll sabotage your work relationships so they won't care that he makes you stay late; he makes rude quips about your 'slutty outfits' only when nobody else is around to hear. after he screams at you for the exhibits being dirty and demand you clean them, he corners you in the janitor's cupboard and locks the door.

tears stream down your face, some drip onto the ground while others are soaked up by the cement wall tsukishima has your cheek pressed up against while he takes you from behind. with one hand up your skirt, fondling your ass. the other placed on your hip, which he moves to wipe away your tears roughly with the back of his hands.

"stop crying." his cock batters your aching walls, while you squirm against him, a feeble attempt to position yourself so his tip brushes your g-spot. though, he puts a swift end to this by clamping his hand down on your hips. "if didn't want me to yell at you, then don't be fuckin' hopeless." he stammers out through groans. "should be grateful i've found a use for you. so be quiet an take it like a decent whore."

♡ IWAIZUMI

an a student of sport science, you're very lucky that one of the best athletic trainers in the business agreed to take you on as an apprentice. you both get along very well too; iwaizumi can be strict at times but you can tell it's because he really cares and wants you to succeed.

when he's not actively training you, he's still very kind. you both joke around some and he's always making small talk, you even learned that he used to be a volleyball player and he's friends with a couple pros! beyond that though, you never notice how his gaze lingers when you're demonstrating stretches; how he 'coincidentally' asks you to stay late for practise on days you're wearing a low cut top; and how he always keeps an ear out for your small — but sweet — whimpers of struggle as you tidy up the weights and dumbbells.

his eyes have been on you ever since you started work for him, but things only change the day he takes of his shirt while cleaning up, and you happen finally realise how hot he is. from there, it's impossible for you to keep your hands off, and he feels the same. next thing you know, he has you sprawled out on the gym floor, laying into you in missionary.

it's been a long day of training and he's already exhausted but he still gives it to you with everything he has, and more. his firm dick lowers in to you while your walls cling to him, swallowing him up. your arms are daped around his shoulders to stable yourself while his hips smash against yours, and from the sheer mix of pain and pleasure, your nails dig into his skin. not that he minds, it's all muscle back there, anyway.

he likes giving it to you rough. not that he wants to wreck that pretty pussy of yours too badly; it needs to be enjoyable enough that'll your beg him for another round. but he likes the way your tits bounce when he thrusts hard enough, it's an even better sight than you doing starjumps. one that he'll never get enough of.

♡ KENMA

being a stock-trader, ceo, pro-gamer and youtuber is all really hard work so of course kenma requires a personal assistant. when you show up for the interview, he instantly knows you're the one, but he doesn't want to give you such a heavy workload. therefore, he hires two people: he hands the other person all the difficult stuff, and leaves you free. all you need to do is stand about and look pretty. he never said that aloud, but it was made obvious when one of the jobs he gave you was to come into his office and paint your nails. and of course, being the diligent employee you are, you followed his orders.

it didn't take long for him to start experiencing 'favouritism' accusations but they were promptly shut down by a simple 'yes, and?' from kenma. any person with half a brain can tell how much special treatment you receive, he would be foolish to try to deny it.

but it's all worth it. you're like his gorgeous doll, his prized possession, it's his responsibilty to treat you with all the care and love you deserve. he didn't even want anything in return for it, getting to see you every day was reward enough. but when you come in to his office requesting a raise, that's when the negotiation begins.

your lips swell around his cock, having been going at it for so long, but he urges you to continue in his muted, whiny voice. he relaxes in his chair, head tossed back in pleasure while you work on his cock, bobbing your head up and down on it. "s' good.." he grumbles, hand finding it's way to your cheek.

his thumb brushes against your skin while your tongue rubs his length. he tastes umami and strong. cock so long that even when you go down on him, you can't reach the base, and the back of your mouth hurts from trying. but he grips your chin and lifts your face so you can meet his sultry gaze. amused by how cute you look with your mouth stuffed full of his cock, he rasps, "there's a twenty thousand yen bonus if you deepthroat."

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon making it clear that you are the only one he wants

“You alright, sweetheart?” Simon’s deep, gruff voice hit your ears, pulling your out of your thoughts. 

You nodded without a sound, subtly trying to divert your gaze so that he wouldn’t look into your eyes and see all the emotion swimming inside, but at this point you really didn’t need to answer the question. The way you sit across from him with your brow furrowed into two steep peaks and your shoulders slumped forward and tight as you idly picked at the skin around your fingernails was enough of a sign. Even though you tried to dismiss him with a few muttered “I’m fine” and “It’s nothing” phrases, the man knew; whatever it was had been eating away at you for some time. 

Turning his full attention to you he took your chin into his coarse grasp and tilted your head upward until your eyes met. “Then why can’t ya even look at me?” he posed his next question. 

You let out a sigh, nowhere to run now as Simon wasn’t gonna let you back out. “It’s just…silly...” 

An incident had been on your mind for a week now, something that should have been resolved already, but try as you might to let it go it just couldn’t be shaken. A new younger female recruit had got it into her head that she wanted a piece of the huge, mysterious Lieutenant and began to flaunt that young, supple body in his direction. Simon had not allowed it to continue for even a second after that initial encounter, making sure that you knew everything in detail, and immediately she was reprimanded and reassigned, but the damage had been done to your confidence.

Were you really right for him? Were you enough? You had never really thought of yourself as ugly, but when pitted up against some pretty thing that had the freshness of young beauty on her side, you weren’t so sure if you could really compare and that made your usual abundance of self-confidence drop to nearly zero. 

Amber eyes gazed back at you as Simon waited patiently for your reply. Taking a deep, calming breath you continued. “I guess I just can’t help but wonder if you made the right choice,” you said.

“And what choice is that, hmm?” he pushed, letting you use your words even though he was sure where this was headed.

“Choosing me,” you said so softly it was barely above a whisper.

Just as he suspected, it was still bothering you and he kicked himself for not doing more before now to show you that there was no one on base or even in the whole fucking world that could compare to what he had with you. There was no one up until now that had ever kept him so tightly wound as you did that he constantly felt like he couldn't get you out of his head, that he never could get enough of you; it was a constant struggle just to keep sane so that he could do his job when he knew what would be waiting for him when he got home.

That’s why it took nothing for him to know exactly what it was that he needed to do now.

Without a word the grip on your chin was released as Simon stood to his feet. He reached down and took a hold of your hand, giving it a good, solid tug. “Come on,” he beckoned with a nod of his head to stand with him and through a bit of stubborn reluctance, you followed.

As soon as you were on your feet he pulled you into his hard, warm chest, leaning his head in close until you could feel his breath against your lips. “Of all the fuckin' mistakes I've made in my life, ya ain't one of 'em. I think someone needs a bit of extra attention, and I was a fuckin' fool waitin' till now to give it to her,” he murmured, his voice lowering into that register that always sent shivers down your spine. “Let me take care of ya, let me turn that brain of yours off for a bit and show ya how sure I am that I made the right choice.”

Before you could answer, his lips had already connected with your own to steal the words right out of your mouth. If there was one thing that experienced military man was superior at it was making you come apart at the seams like it was his fucking job. And boy did he take pride in his work.

But right here and now he would be even more meticulous in his affections as it was clear you needed to be reminded that you and only you were the best goddamn thing to grace his miserable existence. All of his undivided attention would be yours tonight and he would not stop until every single worry had left that pretty little head.

Promises were breathed into your mouth by him. "I'm not stoppin' until ya know just how fuckin' much I don't want anyone else besides ya."

In a flurry of lips and tangled limbs, you found your way over to the bed. Like a surgeon performing a delicate operation, he carefully removed each article of your clothing one by one, making sure that the exposed skin was immediately caressed and attended to before he moved on to the next. Every inch of skin on you would feel the passion in his embrace. By the time you hit the mattress’ surface, your body was already a tingling mess of nerve ends bursting to life in ways that made your mind numb.

The lights had been turned down low, their soft incandescent glow warm and inviting as the breathy sounds of unspoken desires from a man consumed filled the air. It was hard to think of anything as the thick tension permeated the space while you lay there naked sprawled out across the sheets with Simon at your side. Adoration was what he was after tonight, needing you to be left as nothing more than a puddle of pure bliss in the middle of his bed.

Toughened fingers traced all of those subtle imperfections lining your body with such tenderness as if each scar and blemish and indention were incredibly precious to him; his lips followed not far behind as he whispered praises into your skin. Those gentle words that were only for your ears alone as he couldn’t have people thinking he was going soft…even though he absolutely had been since the moment he got with you.

“How could ya ever think I would want anythin’ other than this, other than ya?" he breathed the question into the skin of your torso. “You're all I could ever want, all I fuckin’ think about; the best goddamn thing to ever happen to me. My pretty girl.” 

His nose nuzzled against the crook of your neck and he caught that scent: the smell of your body’s natural musk that just one whiff of could make his head fuzzy and his body tingle in a way he could not describe. All those beautifully fragrant notes that combined together to create a profile that was distinct to you so that even if he couldn’t see you he knew you were near. Closing his eyes, he breathed you in deep.

“Christ, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful, sweetheart,” he purred into the warm skin of your shoulder before he was on the move, lips caressing over the swell of your breasts with nipples already stiff. “I just can’t ever get enough of ya. How could ya ever fuckin' think I'd give up all this for some young tart who'd get sick 'a me sooner rather than later? Fuck, you’re all I want, all I'll eva fuckin' need.”

Down, down, down he continued over the length of your stomach towards your thighs. It was like performing a sacred act, him giving you the full breadth of his overwhelming desire as he made his way from your lips to your legs, getting everything in between. He shot a hungry glance back up at you as he reached those pillowy creations that he loved so much.

He sighed. "Every inch of ya is like a goddamn dream."

Extra time he spent on your thighs as he embraced those voluptuous curves over and over again with his mouth, kissing and sucking, running his nose along them until you were whining and writhing beneath him. Shit, he had not even touched anywhere near your throbbing clit yet and still you could not stop the way your heart pounded out of your chest or your short, sticcatoed breathing that filled the silence. 

“Please,” the plea fell from your open mouth, but there was no need to beg. This was your night after all and he was not about to deny you of anything.

"Whatever my pretty girl wants she's gonna fuckin' get," he smiled. "Always."

Slowly Simon’s large hands spread you open just wide enough that he could lean his face into your mossy bank. More delicate kisses were dotted over your petals, his mouth embracing all around that tender slit before his tongue gently slipped inside the folds. All that doting on your body had done it’s job in stimulating so that he was met with a wetness on his tongue as he dived in. 

Shit were you sweet, like eating a peach except this one would not run out before he had gotten his fill. 

That masterful tongue drew short, concise circles around your clit, lips locking around the bud intermittently to suck, using the two techniques in tandem while his nails drug lightly over your thighs until your were bucking against his face. There was no rush in his movements; he was going to take his time in drawing out your pleasure. 

You couldn’t make a sound, your mind consumed completely with every flick of his tongue, every press of it firmly against you, every pass of his hands over your thighs; overstimulated doesn’t even begin to describe it. Eyes closed, mouth wide open, desperate music being moaned into the room was all you could muster as he brought you closer and closer to the precipice of your pleasure. 

Leisurely Simon lapped at your clit, no rush, no hurry, with measured strokes that eased you pleasantly into your orgasm instead of violently throwing you over. You came so effortlessly that you are able to ride out that wave of ecstasy for minutes as his pace stayed at that steady rhythm until there was no more left for you to give. Only then did he emerge like a man baptized anew. 

By the time he finally thrust inside you, you were a glorious mess of sweat and mewls and cum. He took you right on your back, needing to see that look in your eyes that made him feel like he was your whole world. No muscle-straining positions will he put you in tonight as all he wants is to gaze down at the most beautiful creature he’s ever laid eyes on. 

“Do ya think I have any doubts now?” he asked with a muted smile. "Think I could do this with just anyone?"

Your cheeks, already warm and pink, flushed bright crimson. “No,” you shook your head.

“That's a good girl,” he praised as he adjusted your legs to be comfortable around his thick torso. “Then let’s finish this off right, yeah? You and me, sweetheart.”

Slow, even thrusts he pounded into you, stretching you and filling you full even at this angle, as he met your lips again to nearly choke you on all his passion. You could taste yourself on his breath as he claimed you body and soul. 

“Ya feel so fuckin’ good, just wanna stay buried in ya all the time,” he groaned between precise thrusts through your tight, moist core. Your body was paradise and he could not get enough. Pulling back he watched the connection of your bodies right at the point where he slipped inside of you. You were so full of him there was no distinction between where he ended and you began.

Simon was never a religious man, most of the time as far from it as humanly possible, but the closest he would ever come to faith was the moment he got his first feel of all that glory that first time you two went at it. It was then that your body became his church and from then on he was more than ready to give his life to worshiping at your alter with his fingers and tongue and cock; any and all instruments at his disposal to show you his unwavering devotion. 

That man had been starved for far longer than he would like to admit, but the first time he buried himself in you that was all it took to fill him up. It was only you that he craved: your softness and warmth and light and no one else would ever do. As much as you were his, he was yours.

His hands ran up the sides of your torso, leaving burning trails that made you shiver as he palmed both of your breasts in each one of his hands to massage the flesh. “I want ya to come for me again,” he said, more need in his voice. “Can ya do that for me pretty girl?”

Rapidly you nodded your head up and down as you focused on what was coming.

“That’s it; wanna be sure my girl gets everything she needs to stay satisfied with me.”

There was a feeling of safety and security that you got when you were with him; no matter how rough or passionate the sex got, Simon was always right there with you in the moment so that you never felt that it was one sided. Right now that feeling spread through you along with the gathering warmth in your abdomen to help you get out of your head and let go. All those worries, all those fears, they left completely as he thrust inside you a few more times and you spilled over the edge once more.

He kissed you hard on the mouth, holding your raw lips together once more as he followed right after you. His shoulder shook as his released himself and fell into that high that he would never tire of- not when it was with you. As he let go of your lips, he smiled back down at you; that glow of ecstasy causing his heart to skip a beat.

“Ya see, there’s no one in this whole fuckin’ world I want more than ya, sweetheart,” he whispered into your temple before placed a quick kiss. “And I am always willin’ to show ya that you are the only girl for me.”

[erwinsvow]

rare punishing r for going on the date with jj anyways

"you need to learn how to fuckin' listen, when- when you're told something-"

"rafe," you breathe back, exasperated at the exhausted dialogue. you two have had this conversation so many times. you love your best friend, maybe more than a friend should, but you're tired of being lectured by someone who regularly makes worse decisions than you going on a date with a pogue boy.

"no, m'serious." rafe moves over, getting closer to you, closing in the space in your bedroom. you don't know how he even knew you were home, since you hadn't talked to him since the club yesterday, before your date with jj.

the date had been fine. jj was nice, funny. you two got along well enough. if your friends weren't breathing down your neck about how much they don't like him, you think maybe you'd be more excited, more engaged, replying to his text immediately to plan the next day instead of letting him sit on delivered while rafe sits on your bed next to you.

"are y'listening to me? huh?" you blink up at him, snapped out of your daze. no, you're positive now, if rafe was supportive (then topper and kelce would be too, of course) then you'd feel better about the whole thing.

the truth was that if rafe didn't approve of the boy you wanted to date, you didn't feel like dating him. you wanted someone who would fit right in with your best friends, make himself comfortable in your group and get along. the sad reality was that no one like that existed, and rafe hadn't approved of a single one of your dates since you had first met him.

"sorry. what?"

"i said, you always do this shit."

"rafe, i don't feel like getting reprimanded like some kid right now-"

"no, that's just it. you are a fuckin' kid. you never listen to me, you fuckin' act out by going on dates with pogues-" he spits the word like there's nothing worse in the world you could do, maybe besides ignoring what he tells you to do.

"why should i listen to you?" you snap back, suddenly sick of the double standard. you'd never so much as questioned him when he had a new girl on his arm every week.

"why should you listen to me?" rafe repeats slowly, back at you. "i dunno, maybe because i know best for you. maybe because m'trying to take fuckin' care of you, watch out for you."

you groan, but rafe interrupts you.

"are you seein' him again?" you stare up at him. "answer me."

"no," you admit finally, bringing your knees to your chest and hugging them. "m'not."

"good." you don't look up, but rafe licks his lips. he sits back down next to you, swinging an arm around you. "m'right here. what else do you need, kid? hm?"

you roll your eyes.

"a best friend that doesn't act like my dad would be nice."

"yeah, well, tough shit. do not see him again. this is nice compared to what'll happen."

"rafe!" you protest, met to deaf ears.

"you think m'joking? try me. if i see you texting that pogue again i'll snap your phone in half." you sigh, but he still presses a wet kiss to your temple. "now c'mon. it's tee time."

[brewed-pangolin]

Drabble request for Super Soap Sunday:

Soap and you find yourselves in an unusual place/set of circumstances when the mood strikes. How does he A) let you know what he wants and B) how does he get you in the mood too?

Domestic Bliss

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Fem Reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI: Explicit smut, some fingering, P in V, backseat sex, slightly Dom-ish Soap, tons of dirty banter, Soap being a needy little horn dog

This 'drabble' turned into a one-shot because I can't control myself.

Synopsis: You and Soap take the next step in your relationship, and his not so subtle attempt to rile you up in public ends with an impromptu session in the parking lot.

Reference for where this man takes you to Poundtown here

Word count: 2k

"Alright, ma'am. If I can just you to sign here, here, and here. Then we should be all set up." Your advisor instructed as you sifted through yet another mountain of paperwork. Your eyes growing numb and your fingers beginning to ache from the repeated minor motion of signing your life away.

You pushed the last pile of paperwork over the advisors desk with gentle smile curling into your lips. Glancing over at the man sitting next to you with that same smile, a loving fondness in your eyes as you both took the next pivotal step in your relationship.

A mortgage.

Soap's demeanor was calm. Stoic even. Letting you take the lead in this circumstance as you were the one going to habitate the home more often than he would. A thought you both pushed aside for now to savor the wave of domestic bliss that came along after you signed the final piece of paperwork.

Yet his cool facade couldn't hide the cerulean maelstrom swirling within the whites of his eyes. A look you knew all too well, and one that never failed to send a quick shiver down your spine.

But here? At the bank?

Your smile quickly curled into a smirk, rolling your eyes at him as you turned your attention back to the advisor across the desk. You couldn't feed into Soap's growing needy desires. Not in public at least.

Pursing your lips with a heavy sigh, you tried to maintain your composure by focusing on the task at hand. Eyes trained to the quick movements of fingers across the keyboard as your consultant effortlessly entered your information into the database.

However, even the light clicking of keys couldn't keep your attention as you caught the sudden tremor of his knee in the lower periphery of your vision. The frantic cadence of his boot heel hitting the floor tearing at your concentration yet again, forcing you the bring the knuckles of your right hand up to your mouth to hide the apparent grin quickly forming on your lips.

With as subtle movement as possible, you placed your left hand on the top of his knee to quell his growing feverish motion. Gripping your fingers into the fabric of his jeans and pushing towards the floor in a physical attempt to ease his obviously heightening arousal.

“Ookay. That’s done. Let me get this all printed out and you two should be all set.” 

“Thank you, sir. Appreciate all your help with this.”

You share a quick glance with your advisor as he stands, his eyes momentarily shifting to Soap with a subtle curl in the corner of his mouth. You keep a close eye on him as he exits the office, finally turning to face Soap with a furrowed brow and address the apparent tension erupting between you two.

“Jesus Christ, Johnny. Would you please calm down?” You scolded playfully. Your lips a thin line of a smile, obscuring your clenched teeth as you dug your fingers further into his jeans.

“How much fuckin’ longer is this gonna take, bonnie? ‘Cause I'm 'bout to bend ya over this goddamn desk if he don't speed this shit up. He can bloody watch for all I care.” 

"We're almost done, Johnny. He just needs to give us the paperwork, and then we can go. So just, keep it in your pants for another five fuckin' minutes."

Your tone of reprimand barely able to combat the deep, rumbling brogue in his voice. Shifting slightly in your seat to quell the growing ache pulsing within your core. A gesture that most certainly did not go unnoticed as you took in the hungry blaze radiating within his eyes.

"Johnny. Don't. No!" Your frivolous attempt to stop him was broken down immediately as he thrusted his hand between your legs. Pressing his knuckles into the base of your heat through your jeans. Shifting to bring his chair closer and caress his mouth and tease you with his whispering brogue to the nape of your neck.

"Gonna fuckin' wreck ya, bonnie. Forget th'mortgage. This my down payment fer tha sweet pussy a'yers."

"Goddamit, MacTavish. Not here, ya fuckin' horn dog."

"Horn dog?" He questions with that distinctly mischievous grin. Pulling away as he eyed your advisor walking back into the office. His calmness in complete contrast to the excited flush bellowing from your chest as you quickly swat his hand away, scolding him quietly under your breath.

"Overconfident bastard."

"Alright. You two are all set up. You should be getting a call within the next five business days once you qualify. Other than that, welcome to home ownership."

"Thank you." You shook your advisor's hand, grabbed at your paperwork, and made an immediate bee line for the door. Beating Soap at his own game as you left him in the office with an obvious growing hard on. Already midway to the exit of the bank when you eyed him barreling out of the office in your periphery.

You didn't want to lose focus again. Not now. Now when you had the upper hand. You Kept your eyes locked onto the 4Runner at the back of the parking lot as your feet moved quickly at their own accord. Your ears perking to the sound of its alarm, a wave of triumph rolling over you as the locks sprung free.

You opened the backseat passenger door to toss your purse and paperwork on the seat. Expecting to see Soap at the driver side as you tried to close the door.

Tried.

You glanced questioningly at the door. Only then did you notice Soap's hand gripping on the edge. Spinning on your heels as you came face to face with a fiery blaze and a hungry look in his eyes.

"John?"

"Get in."

"John?!"

"GET IN!"

You felt his hands on your hips the moment his voice registered within your mind. Thrusting you into the back seat, an excitedly victorious giggle escaping your chest as he crawled in before slamming the door behind him.

"Yer such a fuckin' lit'le minx, y'know that? Leavin' me th're wit a full bloody stonner." He growled, pulling your shoes off and tossing them to the side, frantically moving to the front of your jeans as you continued to laugh in triumph at his feverish need.

"Makin' me do the goddamn walk o' shame and...why are these fuckin' buttons so goddamn small?!"

"Ooohhh, what happened to that cool confidence, Soap? Thought you could handle yourself under pressure. Bein' a demolitions expert an' all."

"Yer pushin' it, lass." He spat back. Relinquishing the fight with the buttons in favor of simply tearing your jeans off.

"M'also not tryin'a fuck tha bombs, smartass."

Soap tossed your garments to the back, flaring his nostrils with a darkened veil in his eyes as he spread your legs to take in the sight of your silken arousal. Moving onto his haunches with a deep inhale, his eyes rolling back as he took in the scent of your growing excitement.

“Mhmm. Could smell tha’ sweet pussy in th’re. An’ ya already so fuckin’ wet fer me, aren’t ya, bonnie?”

Words escaped you as he pushed two of his fingers inside your soaking heat, your eyes fluttering closed as he slowly pumped up to his knuckle, teasingly preparing you for what was to come. Unable to restrain your body’s reaction as your walls reflexively clenched around him.

“Donnae think I didn’t feel tha’. I know what ya need, lass. An’ m’gonna give it to ya.” Soap lured to you with a husky purr, your eyes fluttering open in response to take in the sight of him stroking himself through his jeans. His steely blue gaze boring into your soul as he effortlessly worked at the buckle of his belt. A throaty growl reverberating within him as he teasingly pushed the waist of his jeans below his hips to expose his painfully hardened cock.

"Johnny, I-" Your pleasured whimper was cut short as he throw his muscular frame on top of you, sealing his mouth over yours in a wet and desperately needy kiss. His strong hands gripping into the flesh of your thighs, guiding them around his waist as he teasingly pushed his throbbing erection into your moistened cunt. Filling you to the brim in one fluid thrust.

"Th's s'my home, bonnie. Right 'ere. B'tween yer legs an' deep in th's beautiful fuckin' pussy a 'yers."

Soap didn't give you time or air to respond as he encapsulated your mouth once more and immediately began pistoning himself into your core. The force of his thrusts wiping whatever thoughts and words out your mind, only focusing on the feel of him as he caged you against the backseat with his arms bent on either side of your head.

"Steamin' hell yer tight, lass." Soap growled into your lips, pressing his chest down into yours, keeping you still and allowing him full reign to pound his hardened length into your heat.

His bulbous tip kissing the flesh of your cervix with each forward thrust before pulling out almost entirely to only throw himself back into you once more. The continuous motion forcing your back to arch off the backseat, pushing your pelvis into his to stimulate the sensitive flesh of your clit.

Soap pulled his mouth away in repsonse to your shifting position, leaning forward to press his forehead into the crook of your neck. His hot breath cascading down your skin as he grunted and moaned with every subsequent thrust, his relentless pounding forcing you to grip into his shoulders to keep yourself stable beneath him.

"Johnny...Johnny..." you whispered softly against his temple. His name the only coherent word you could manage to let fall from your lips as your mind and body fell into the depths of his desperate and needy pleasure.

"Jus'...lemme 'ave th's, bonnie."

"Only g'nna need...an'ther minute.."

Soap's gasping breaths washed over the flesh of your neck, his voice rumbling within his throat like an otherworldly mixture of a growling whimper.

And the moment you felt his hips begin to falter, you pushed aisde your own pleasure in favor of reaching his. Only focusing on him. His needs. His desperate compulsion to always need to fill you and mark you as his own.

"C'mon, bonnie. Come for me."

You responded to his grunting demand by simply pressing your lips to the flesh of his temple. Wrapping your arms and legs around him tightly, letting him vigorously thrust his throbbing cock into your cunt until you felt the warmth of his release erupt deep inside you.

Soap's movements then halted all together. Burying himself into your heat as he rode out the relentless pulses of his climax.

Even within this impromptu moment, with him panting against your neck and you hunched beneath him in the backseat, there was always a certain level of intimacy that seemed to meld between you in the bliss of the afterglow. Cradling him in your arms as he slumped over in a limp and gasping mess.

"Fuckin hell, bonnie." He whispered, softly panting against your neck as he lightly pursed his lips against your neck.

"Jesus, Johnny. If I knew home ownership got ya this worked up, I'd it done years ago."

"Shut it, lass."

"Can't wait to see how hard ya get when I do my taxes."

Soap remained silent to your playful banter, responding only by continuing to kiss the curve of your neck as his body trembled, slowly coming down from the high of his release.

His mouth gently curled into a smile as he placed a series of gentle kisses up the nape of your neck. Chiding in once more to your jesting, his distinctive brogue thicker and more hoarse as he purred against your flesh.

"Won't 'ave ta, hen. Unless yer 'nta doin' a threesome."

"What?" You questioned, pulling him out of your neck to meet his steely blue gaze with a coitish smile.

"Uncle Sam already fucks ya in the ass, bonnie. It's the only time I'm yer designated sloppy side piece."

You can't hide the smile that emerged over your lips, pushing a piece of sweat ridden hair out of his eyes as you lovingly gaze up at him.

"Then I guess I'll be needing another down payment in advance. Just for good measure."

And of course, Soap obliges. Thrusting his still hardened cock deep into your core as he mutters those two words you love to hear.

"Yes, ma'am."

4Runner Wingman Masterlist

@deadbranch @sofasoap @d3athtr4psworld @punishmepunisher @jynxmirage @obligatoryghoststare @mykneeshurt @glitterypirateduck @homicidal-slvt @shotmrmiller @astraluminaaa @kkaaaagt @havoc973 @writeforfandoms @luismickydees

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Every Fucking Time

Summary: You want to help Dean, but he knows you can't.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Lots of angst! Smut! Unprotected PinV sex. Slightly rough sex. Dean being an asshole. Dean being a broken boy. Hurt/comfort.

Pairings: Dean x Reader (You)

Word Count: 2,737

A/N: So, I just rewatched 13x18, Bring 'Em Back Alive, and the scene at the end never fails to break my heart. I just wanna make Dean feel better! 😫 But it got me thinking about how unlikely Dean would be to accept that help, and how his anger might manifest. Anyway, this is what spilled out of my brain as a result.

A/N 2: The title is a reference to Dean's line, "Every time we get close, it all falls apart. Every frickin' time." I have changed it to the non-network TV version because we all KNOW that's actually what Dean said.

You just wanted to help. You needed to help. You needed to make it better for him. 

Dean had slipped back home through the rift barely an hour earlier, talking about the apocalypse world Charlie and how he'd left her and Ketch behind, promising he would come back with reinforcements.

Then you, Cas and Sam had given him the bad news; no one could go back, you couldn’t send reinforcements. Gabriel was gone, taking all his archangel grace with him.

“So if it’s gone, then that means that we can’t open that door again. If we can’t open the door, then I shoulda never come back!” He'd shouted.

He'd tried to tamp down the rage and anger that simmered just behind his forced calm. Nevertheless, it exploded out of him making you all jump.

“Son of a bitch!” He'd screamed, sending books and papers crashing to the ground as he swept them from the table. “Every time!”

You could feel his frustration and pain like it was your own as his voice dropped, defeated and broken for the millionth time. “Every time we get close, it always falls apart…every fuckin’ time.”

When he walked away, looking as though the weight of the world was once again on his shoulders, you’d tried to follow after him, but Sam had grabbed your arm gently, holding you back.

“Leave him for now, Y/N. He needs time.”

You should have listened to Sam, but you could feel Dean’s pain like a lance in your side and you were desperate to heal him. So less than an hour later, you went looking for him. But he wasn’t in his room, or the Dean cave. The kitchen was empty and so was the garage. 

You finally found him in the infirmary. He was sitting on one of the beds, sewing together a nasty looking bullet wound.

“Dean!” You called out worriedly as you rushed down the steps. He glanced up at you but then went back to stitching himself up. “Why didn’t you tell us you’d been shot?” You reprimanded him.

He shrugged his unwounded shoulder. “No big deal. Ketch patched me up on the go, just didn’t have time to sew it up properly.”

You watched him silently for a moment, wincing every time the needle pierced his inflamed skin. He’d taken his shirt off so he could tend to his wound, and you couldn’t help but take an inventory of his other numerous scars. Jagged knife cuts, more round bullet holes, and a few waxy looking old burns, all marred his otherwise perfect, lightly freckled torso.

Some of the scars were very faded, barely noticeable, while others were newer; some of them were still red and angry looking. They were a patchwork of pain - a tapestry of more than thirty-five years of hunting, fighting, falling, getting up, and fighting again. 

It made you exhausted just to see it; it made your bones ache.

You stepped a little closer to him, but he kept you at arm’s length with an aura of silent, repressed anger that you could practically see pulsing off of him.

You wanted to help him so badly.

“Dean, I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head, not looking up from his work. “No, let’s not. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

You let out a small sigh. Of course you don’t. You thought with a flash of frustration.

You were quiet another minute as he finished the last few stitches. Then you smiled a little, trying a different tactic. “So, there was a Charlie over there? That’s amazing. What was she like? Was she the same as our Charlie?”

Dean didn’t answer right away. He snipped the thread he was using and tossed the small silver scissors back into the first aid kit he had open on the bed beside him. He took some rubbing alcohol and poured it onto a gauze pad, holding it to his wound and sucking in a breath through gritted teeth before answering.

“Yeah sure, she was like our Charlie.” His voice was a growl of pain. “She was a badass, determined to fight injustice, sticking up for her friends, risking her life for them. And yeah, just like our Charlie, I left her on her own to be butchered.”

Tears pricked your eyes. “Dean that’s not true…you didn’t-”

“Seriously, Y/N. Just fucking don’t.”

You were silenced again, watching him clean up and toss the bloody bandages into the trash as he stood up from the bed. He reached for his flannel and tried to put it on, slightly hampered by his newly bandaged shoulder. You stepped forward to help him with it, and when it was on, but still unbuttoned, you slid your hands inside, down over his ribs.

You kissed his chest gently, and felt him twitch slightly. 

“Y/N.” He said quietly and you could hear the warning in his tone. 

You knew he was in a bad place, and the two of you had only recently begun to move your relationship out of friendship and into something more, so sex was still new between you. But you felt the overwhelming, screaming need to help him, to hold him close and let him feel your love shine through. You’d been in love with him for a long time, but you’d never told him. You suspected he didn’t love you back, though you hoped he might someday.

For now, though, you’d settle for being a soft place to land, if he’d just let you.

“Dean.” You said softly, kissing his chest again. “Let me help you.”

He pushed you back and turned away. “I don’t need help.”

You persisted, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. “We all need help from time to time, Dean.”

“Y/N!” He said again, louder this time, his earlier anger resurfacing. “I told you, I’m fine. Just drop it.”

But you couldn’t. You wanted to help him, whether he accepted it or not.

You moved around him, so you stood in front of him again. “Dean, you’re not fine. I just wanna help you.”

Dean scoffed. “Well you can’t fucking help me, Y/N. You can’t make it better.”

“I could try.” You cupped his cheek, but he pulled it out of your grasp, turning his head. You stood on tiptoe to try and kiss him. “Let me try, Dean. Let me try to help you.”

Dean grabbed your wrists from around his neck, glaring down at you, eyes blazing. “You fucking can’t, do you not hear me? You can’t help me, no one can help me! Because all I do is fuck up; all I do is leave my friends and family to die. And fucking you isn’t gonna change that; unless you have some kind of magical cunt that can open portals to another dimension, you can’t fucking help me!”

You felt your stomach drop, and an immediate ache started, high in your gut, clenching your insides and making you feel short of breath. You stepped back from Dean and swallowed convulsively, trying not to let go of the tears that clogged your throat. But it was a losing battle and they were soon coursing down your cheeks.

You nodded slightly. “K, yeah.” You didn’t know what else to say, turning away just as remorse began dawning in Dean’s emerald eyes. “Sam was right…I shouldn’t have come.”

You took off, bounding up the stairs as Dean called out to you. You ignored him, desperate to get away before you collapsed completely. 

You heard Dean following you, chasing you down the bunker hallway and you sprinted away. You got to your room just in time to slam the door and lock it just as Dean skidded to a halt outside.

He banged on the door, but you just moved over to your desk, dropping into the chair and swiping at your tears over and over, unable to make them stop.

“Y/N, come on! Open the door. Look, I didn’t mean that, okay? I just...just let me in.” He banged again. When you wouldn’t open it, he just kept banging. Finally he yelled at you through the wood.  “You know, I can just break down the fucking door! Let me in!”

He slammed his hammer like fist against the door again, rattling it in its frame. You jumped up and ripped open the door just as he was about to start pounding again. So his fist was raised and his features were twisted in a snarl as you looked up at him. But you were calm, even though tears still leaked from your eyes.

“Enough.” You said quietly. “Look, I shouldn’t have kept bugging you, you made it very clear you didn’t want me there and that I couldn’t be of any help. So, it’s fine. I’ll leave you alone now, and you can please stop raging at me and trying to smash down my door.”

You swallowed tightly and then nodded at him. “Goodnight.”

You closed your door softly and walked back to slump onto the end of your bed. You dashed your tears away as quickly as they fell, trying to dash away Dean’s angry words too, but failing miserably. 

After nearly half an hour your tears finally dried up and you decided to get ready for bed, sadness and hurt making you slow and sluggish. As you pulled your big sleep shirt on over your head, however, a noise caught your attention just outside your door. 

You walked softly to the door in your bare feet, cracking it open an inch to look out into the hallway. What you saw made brand new tears cloud your vision.

Dean was sitting across from your door, his back against the wall. His knees were bent slightly with his elbows resting there and his feet planted on the floor. His eyes were shut, his head leaning back against the wall with tears streaming silently down his cheeks. Or almost silently. As you watched, his face spasmed with pain and his breath seemed to catch in his throat, making the muffled sound you’d heard; it sounded like his pain was choking him.

You opened the door wider and Dean sensed you, his eyes springing open. At first it seemed like he might bolt, but then he shook his head as he stared at you. “Baby, I’m so sorry.” His voice was a harsh whisper. “I swear to god, I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me.”

He thumped his head back against the wall twice. “I just break things. Everything.” He punctuated the word by slamming his elbow back into the wall as well, hard enough that you were worried he’d break the bone.

You hurried forward to kneel on the floor in front of him, squeezing in between his knees. You pulled his hands into yours as you tried to reassure him. “Dean, that isn’t true. You don’t break everything; you fix things, save things. It’s in your DNA to try to right all the wrongs in the world, but sometimes you just can’t.”

He stared at you intently and once again you found yourself desperate to try to ease the bottomless ache you could see in his mossy green eyes.

His voice was barely a whisper as he reached out to run his thumb across your cheekbone. “Did I break us?”

You took a deep breath. “Your words hurt me.” He closed his eyes and nodded. “But…”

You were quiet a moment before deciding it was worth taking a chance, so you just said it. “But I love you, and my love doesn’t break that easily, even if my heart does.”

You took his hand from your cheek and held it against your chest, over your heart. “Not ever. No matter what the future holds, my love is unbreakable, even when you try to smash it to pieces with both hands.”

Dean’s expression was closed off, and you couldn’t see through it to his thoughts. After a moment he shook his head. “Don’t love me, sweetheart. I can’t…I can’t protect you if you love me. Something will come and take you from me - use you to hurt me somehow.” He closed his eyes again and repeated his words from earlier in the evening. 

“Every time I get close, it always falls apart.” He opened his eyes slowly and stared intently into your soul. “Every fucking time.”

He gazed at you for a long time, and you let him, hoping he could see that you weren't afraid to love him, and you weren't going to be scared away.

Suddenly he reached out to yank you into his lap and slam his mouth down on yours. You gasped into the kiss and then whimpered as he clutched you tight to him.

He pulled away from you, breathing harshly. “Am I forgiven? Because I was such a liar. I do need you.” He dipped his head to nip at your pulse point and flick his tongue against your salty skin. “I need you so fucking bad.”

You nodded, flushed and aching for his touch. “You’re forgiven.”

He crushed your lips with his once again, standing up without letting you out of his arms. He pushed you backwards through your bedroom door and closed it with a soft click, as he yanked your t-shirt off over your head, getting you naked in one quick motion.

You pushed his open flannel down his arms, being careful not to aggravate his newest injury. You fumbled with the button on his jeans for a moment, hands trembling, as he palmed your breast and squeezed, pressing his hard, blunt fingertips into your yielding flesh.

You threw your head back as he pulled your nipple into his mouth and bit it gently. You sank your hands into his short hair, tugging sharply and moaning loudly. He pulled away, just far enough that he could spin you around to face the wall. With a hand against your upper back, he bent you over slightly and lifted your arms, so that you braced them against the brick.

Then he raised your right leg, wrapping his forearm over top of it and spreading you open. You felt the knuckles of his other hand brush over your dripping wet core as he unbuttoned his jeans. Seconds later, you felt his tip pressing against your entrance and then you let out a scream of pleasure as he slammed into you hard and fast.

As he fucked up into you, he pulled you open even wider, reaching down with his free hand to rub circles into your clit with his calloused fingertips.

Eventually he dropped your leg, and pushed your feet apart while he pulled your hips back towards him. He never faltered or slowed his pace, just manhandling you into the positions he wanted.

You were bent at a ninety degree angle now, hands still braced against the wall, with your head hanging between them as Dean continued to pound into you so deep that he was almost lifting you off the floor with each thrust. 

He clamped his hand on the back of your neck, using it as leverage to piston his hips forward like a jackhammer. He tilted your pelvis forward slightly and suddenly he was perfectly, relentlessly hitting your g-spot over and over until you were screaming out his name and crashing into a hard wall of pleasure. You shook with your climax, but Dean didn’t stop, riding you through your first orgasm and into several more.

Your throat was hoarse from shouts of pleasure before Dean finally cursed loudly, shouting your name and surging into your body. With one last driving push,  you could feel him spurting into you hot and thick. He rocked his body against yours a few more times as his cock continued to twitch inside you.

Finally he stilled, both of you breathing harshly now, bodies slick with sweat. He laid his chest against your back, his arm still wrapped around your waist, keeping you close, keeping himself locked inside your slick warmth.

“Y/N.” You could hear the thick emotions even in his soft whisper. “You know, you save me. Every time I think I can’t recover, every time I think I won’t get back up. You make me think I can. You tell me I will.” 

He paused and his voice was velvety and warm as he breathed out across your skin. “You save me.” He kissed your shoulder gently. “Every fucking time.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused

@evznackles

@jackles010378

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731

@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

@luvr4miya

@arcannaa

@viviwatchestv

@winharry

@ladysparkles78

@kr804573

Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

@zepskies

@safiyas-world

@aylacavebear

@waywardcheshire

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

@hobby27

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@deangirl96

@stoneyggirl2

[theinternetisfulloftrash]

Welcome Home

Pairing: Dylan O'Brien x Reader (Female) Synopsis: Traveling. Any annoying but necessary part of any actors job for the non-traveling party. But the welcome homes? They are oh so fucking sweet. Tags: it's filth with some cute plot, shower sex, kisses, more banter than is reasonable in polite society Rating: Explicit (obviously) Author’s Note: Y'all listen. I know. Okay. It's been a while, and to be honest? I started this in fucking January, but hey. It's here now, right? We're all chill? No one's upset? Good. LOVE YOU!

He’d been away for days, but it felt like weeks. Your feed has been covered in photos of him. The algorithms have you pretty much figured out. You’d been keeping up with his interviews, watching clips of his adorably awkward award acceptance speech. It wasn’t a surprise award, but it didn’t matter that he was prepared for it. He was incapable of being acknowledged for his achievements without turning into the equivalent of a turtle hiding in its shell. You’d have reached out to hold his hand and ground him if you could, but you’d been here. Alone. Missing him. But all that was soon to change.

He was on his way home. Annoyingly, his flight had been delayed, but as you stared up at the JFK arrivals board and it read: ‘Arrived’, you couldn’t help the bubbling up of excitement and giddy nervousness. It seemed like Tony was picking up on it as well because he stood against your leg, pawing at your thigh until you picked him up. He’d been missing his dad and had taken more comfort in your presence since he’d left. 

Your ears perked when the announcement that the baggage from his flight was about to begin its rounds through the baggage claim area. Your phone vibrated in the thigh pocket of your leggings. You gave Tony a quick squeeze before setting him back on the floor and taking your phone out. You smiled at the preview of the text you’d just received before you swiped to see the rest. 

‘Your fine ass better be waiting for me down there.’ 

You smirked before typing out a teasing reply. 

‘Got stuck in traffic a few times but I’m here. I hate Newark btw.’ 

You watched the dots appear and couldn’t help the audible laugh that escaped when you read his next message. 

‘Newark!?’ 

You interrupted him with a quick ‘I’m joking!!!’ before you could see what he was typing next. Then after a brief pause, the dots reappeared before his reprimand. 

‘You know you’re this close to the find-out stage of fuckin around?’ 

‘Oh? What if that’s exactly what I want?’ 

‘👀’

‘Not that I want to rush through the fuckin around part 😏’  

“I’ll be taking my sweet fucking time…don’t worry.”

You startled at his audible reply and your eyes shot up from your phone and met his as Tony pulled at the leash in your hand to reach him. He looked a bit tired but happy. His smile was wide across his stubbled face, quirking up at the corner when you smiled back. 

“Hey buddy!” he said, handing you his pillow before bending down to scoop Tony up into his arms. “I missed you!” he swooned in the adorable baby voice he reserved for his furry son. “Did you miss me too?” He rubbed Tony’s head and then his tummy. “Such a good boy!” 

You smiled at the two of them, pulling Tony’s leash from your wrist and handing it to Dylan. Tony would be stuck to him like glue now. 

“Hey, baby,” he said softly before he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your lips. One just long enough to make you the tiniest bit dizzy and eager for more. 

You blinked away distracting thoughts. “Do you have much luggage?” 

Dylan shook his head. “Just this,” he said pointing at his backpack, “and one bag on the turnstiles.” 

“Should be over there, they just announced it,” you said, taking a few steps toward the baggage claim area.

“Nice!” he said, hiking Tony up onto his shoulder a bit before he followed after you. 

His bag passed in front of him and he hefted it off the belt and popped out the handle and you took it from him so he could focus on the excited ball of fur in his arms. You set his pillow on it and wheeled it behind you toward the cab that was waiting out front. As much as you hated early morning airport runs, you were glad his 4 AM delayed arrival made the whole airport experience a lot smoother. Fewer people. Less traffic. You’d been able to get in and out without so much as a sideways glance from anyone else. 

“Hey you,” he said as he slumped in the seat next to you, Tony taking up the little bit of space between you. 

“Hey,” you said, smiling back at him. 

It was just after 5 AM and you’d only gotten a couple hours of sleep. Originally, he was supposed to have gotten in at midnight and had been scheduled to arrive at Newark, but his flight had been canceled. When he called you to let you know, you were already getting ready to catch the Uber you’d called to take you to the airport. You had a habit of being too punctual. But that also meant that you had a hard time settling and only managed a short nap before you got up to head to JFK. You were a bit tired, but feeling his warmth next to you for the first time in a while was enough of a comfort to fight off the droop of your sleepy eyes. You wanted to see his smile, the upturned tip of his nose, the lopsided smile he sported as he pet Tony. Sleep could wait. 

The drive back to the loft was rather uneventful. Traffic was light, you weren’t sure you’d ever made it the Carey Tunnel faster than you just had. When you hopped out of the car, Dylan gathered his bags from the back of the car and you headed up to the apartment. Home. It was always a comfortable place, but it was warmer when he was in it.

“Smells nice in here…” he said with a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment as his shoulders sagged in relaxation. “I missed it.” 

“And I missed you.” You stepped into his space and wrapped your arms around his waist and he quickly pulled you to his chest, looping his arms over your shoulders and pressing a kiss into your hair. 

“You did, huh?” he chuckled, the heat of his exhaled breath warming your skin. 

“Mhm…” you hummed, laying your cheek against his chest. The loft was dimly lit by a single lamp near the sofa in the living room and the streetlights that filtered in through the large windows. It added to the comfort you felt in his arms. 

“I missed you more,” he whispered.

“Impossible.” 

He sighed out a long breath, holding you tight to his chest before he pulled back, his hands clasped around your waist, eyes locked to yours. The warm, honey-brown hue of them sent a shiver down your spine, of course, it didn’t help that he’d begun to work his hands under the hem of your shirt, his fingertips pressing just a little more firmly into the bare skin covering your ribs when he leaned down to kiss you. 

His lips were insistent, the kiss at the airport clearly not satiating the need that had built during your time apart. It was a comforting reminder that his infatuation with you must be at least somewhat comparable to your own. 

You moaned when his lips wandered along your jaw and latched to your throat just below your ear. Not to be outdone and wanting a little audible thrill of your own, you were satisfied at the deep groan that emanated from the back of his throat when one of your roaming hands slipped down between your bodies to graze across the front of his thigh until it was cupping him through his sweatpants. 

“Definitely missed that,” he breathed out across your collarbone before pushing your hair back and sliding the collar of your shirt aside to access more of your skin. 

You laughed softly before it morphed into a half-whispered moan of his name when his teeth grazed along the sensitive skin above your breast. “Fuck…” you breathed, squeezing your hand around him eliciting an appreciative grumble from him that you felt vibrate the aching bit wet skin he’d been sucking on your chest. 

When you released your grip to slip your hand behind the waistband of his sweats, he grabbed your wrist. “Not yet…” he chuckled when he pulled back to see you scowling at him. “Don’t worry,” he said, smiling at you, brushing an errant hair back from the place where it hung in your eyes, “I’m gonna make you scream…” 

You swallowed thickly. 

“I’d just rather not reek like a man who’s known only seat 23A for 10 hours when I do it.” 

You chuckled softly. “Well…” you smiled back before reaching both hands around behind him, “then you better get this,” you squeezed his ass, “fine thing in the shower then.” You gave him a gentle spank. 

He laughed and pressed a kiss into your hair. “Thirsty little monster,” he said, running his hand down your arm. “Join me?” he said, pleading gaze meeting yours. 

You nodded and he took your hand, lacing your fingers together and leading you through the apartment toward the bathroom. The gentle squeeze of his hand in yours sent a satisfying ripple of warmth through your body. Just as you’d made it through the door to the bathroom, you tugged on his hand and swung his body to pin him against the counter of the vanity. 

He let out a soft huff at the gentle impact and smiled down at you as you grabbed at the hem of his shirt and yanked it roughly up over his body. His bare chest heaved as your eyes roved over him, your hands following your gaze across his pecs, through the soft hair, down his abs, settling on the waistband of his sweats before you began to crouch in front of him as you slid them down his thighs to pool at his feet. 

You looked at him from between his thighs and watched as his brown eyes turned near-black, crouching there longer than was necessary to achieve the task, fluttering your lashes at him.

“Fucking tease…” he muttered under his breath before he hauled you up in front of him and stripped your top off, tossing it across the room before he latched onto your throat and bit down. 

While you writhed in his arms, his hands warmed up your back until his fingers worked open the clasp of your bra. He slipped his fingers under the straps and slid them free of your shoulders and let the garment fall to the floor. 

“Mmm…” he mused, looking down at your chest before he leaned forward and captured your lower lip between his teeth and pulled it back slightly before releasing it to kiss down the column of your throat. He cupped you breast and brought his lips to the peak and flattened his tongue in a wide sweep before sealing his lips to suck your nipple until it was taut and pebbled.

“Dylan…” you groaned, your hands tangling into his hair.

He held you against his body and swapped your positions until your lower back was pressed against the vanity. He nipped at your chest before he finally pulled back and lifted you to sit on the counter in front of him. He quickly unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them from you, throwing them into a heap with the rest of your discarded clothing. Then he slotted himself between your thighs. “Shower’s right there…” he titled his head in its direction, “and yet here we are…” he smiled, his fingertips trailing down from your arms, along your ribs and waist until they teased at the elastic of the last piece of clothing you were left wearing.  

“Here we are…” you repeated, looking down your body at his hand as it slipped into your underwear. You fell forward into his chest when you felt his teasing, barely there touch where you were now aching to feel it. Your sharp intake of breath didn’t go unnoticed.

He leaned in and grinned against the skin of your throat before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the tendon running the length of it. “Something wrong?” he teased, still not touching you the way you wished he would. 

“Please…” you whispered. 

The little amused noise he made only frustrated you more, because Instead of giving in to your need, he hooked his fingers around the band of your underwear and stepped back from you to slide them free from your legs. He twirled them around his long index finger before letting them slip out of his hands to the floor. His eyes roamed over you, exposed to him now, perched on the counter. “Fucking perfect…” he breathed, giving his head a slight shake.

You flushed under his attentive gaze, your own eyes catching on the obvious sign of his own interest tenting the front of his boxer briefs. “Talkin’ about yourself?” you finally managed. 

He smiled and shook his head. 

“You should be…” you sighed, “but you could stand to be just a bit more naked…” you pointed to his underwear. 

He laughed. “Fair,” he said before turning around to turn on the shower. He looked back at you, smirking as he hooked his thumbs in the band of his boxers. When he slid them down his thighs the need you felt for him was almost unbearable. He held out a hand to help you down. “Time to get you wet,” he said with a smirk. 

“Too late.” 

His brows shot up his forehead. “Fuck… me…” he muttered

You stepped past him, your hands gliding over his naked torso, and into the shower. “That’s the plan.” 

He followed after and closed the door, the glass quickly began to fog with the steam as you stood under the spray of the faucet. Even though you knew the water was hot, it almost felt cool on your heated skin. Dylan watched you as you ran your hands over your body before he reached out, gripping your hips. He shoved you back against the wall and his lips crashed into yours. 

You reached up clasped around his neck, your hands tangling into the wet strands of his hair, deepening the kiss and tasting the faint hint of mint on his tongue. His teeth grazed over your bottom lip, pulling it taut before he kissed along your jawline. 

He muttered something unintelligible under his breath against your throat.

“Soap’s over there,” you sighed, jutting your chin to the shelf in the corner. 

“Right… showering…” his teasing mouth paused and he pulled back from you. “You’re so fucking distracting…” he groaned, his grip on your hips shifting to your ass before he squeezed it in both of his palms. 

You grinned and wet your lower lip with your tongue. 

“Not helping.”

You laughed before you pushed him away enough to grab the body wash from the shelf and squeeze it onto his loofa. “Lemme help then,” you said, gesturing for him to turn around in front of you, the water now striking him in the chest. 

He didn’t protest, and quickly spun around as you took a small step closer, so your wet body was pressed briefly against him before you began to scrub his shoulders and upper back. 

“Mmm…” he hummed, rolling his neck. 

You tickled him enough to raise his arms so you could wash them both thoroughly. You smiled watching him noticeably relax his shoulders. You washed down his back, sliding the loofa down to the dips in his low back and over his perfect ass. 

“Taking your time back there…” he chuckled. 

“Stop having such a nice ass and maybe I’d make quicker work of it.” 

He shook a bit with a contained laugh. “Noted.” 

You finally relented, taking one last look at his soapy cheeks before you reached around to scrub his chest and stomach, not spending too much time before reaching down and squeezing the loofa at his belly button and letting the soap begin to run down his body. Your free hand followed after it until it was teasing at the coarse hair, brushing just where you knew he was dying for you to touch him. 

“Relentless fucking tease–” 

You cut off his complaint by wrapping your hand around his sudsy length and pumping him just once. “You were saying?” you breathed against his back before you kissed his shoulder blade before you pumped him again. 

He groaned, his head falling forward. “I’ll shut up… just don’t fucking stop.” 

You beamed with pride. It wasn’t like he never begged, but it was far less common than your own pleadings that more frequently bounced off the walls of this room. You rewarded its rarity by picking up the pace with your hand, pinning him against you with the other hand pressing against the front of his thigh, the loofa long forgotten at his feet. 

He stuttered forward, one hand coming up to hold his weight against the tiled wall the other grasping gently at your wrist, not stopping you, but guiding your hand. “Fuck,” he cursed, the last consonant of it coming out shuddered and low.

You were growing more and more impatient with each second. The ache between your thighs was forcing you to squeeze them together for some kind of relief. You moaned in frustration, your pace faltering. 

Dylan squeezed your wrist and stilled your hand. “Someone sounds needy…” he whispered, pulling your hand free of him and swapping your positions. He pressed you back against the wall and grabbed your body wash from the shelf, squeezing some into his palm. 

You watched him warm his hands together, lathering the gel into foamy suds in those gorgeous fucking hands that you knew he was about to touch you with. 

He smirked at the audible sound of you swallowing before he cupped one of your breasts, his other hand snaking around you, his fingers teasing the dimples of your lower back. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, his nose nudging your chin up enough for him to run his tongue up the length of your throat before he kissed you. 

Your heart hammered in your chest, your skin pebbled with goosebumps, your body sang under his touch. You’d missed him. God, how you’d missed him. It should be against the Geneva Convention for him to be away from you this long. Torture, pure and simple. But this? This was as close as you could imagine to what it might feel like to be moments from dying of thirst in a vast desert only to stumble into the cool waters of an oasis.

He slid his hand down your body and, without a hint of teasing or pretense, rubbed your clit with the pads of two fingers. 

“Holy. Sh–!” you cussed, only getting half of it out before it devolved into a strangled moan. 

Dylan nudged at your chin as your head lolled in pleasure, his lips skimming across your skin, breathing out praise as he continued to swirl his fingers over the sensitive bundle of nerves that had you writhing against him. “Missed the way you sound…” he nipped your neck, “the way you feel…” he groped at your chest again with his free hand, “the way you taste…” he kissed you again, his tongue demanding entry into your mouth. 

His talented fingers had you approaching the edge, that warm feeling building up inside you, that pressure that made you feel like you were electrified. “Dyl… please…” you softly begged when he gave you a moment to finally breathe. 

His lips slipped from yours, your noses touching, both of you panting in the same air. Then you whined when you felt his fingers disappear from you. He stepped back into the stream of water and pulled you with him, kissing you everywhere his lips could reach as the hot spray of the shower rinsed you both clean of suds. 

You looped your arms around his neck and he gripped the backs of your thighs, hauling you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. 

His eyes were wide with the same wonder he somehow still held for you even though he’d had you so many times there was no way to keep count. It made you feel warm and wanted. Desired and beautiful.  

“Could stay in this shower for the rest of my fucking life…” he said as he pinned your back to the wall and bucked up against you, slickening himself in the folds of your body, driving the head of his cock into your already sensitive clit. 

Your eyes rolled back at the contact, your hips rocking forward to meet the roll of his. “We’ll… we’ll get all pruney….” you finally breathed out. 

He laughed against your throat before he kissed, nipped, and sucked what you knew would be an impressive little bruise into your skin. “So be it,” he said, and then he shifted his hips, met your gaze, and slid into you to the hilt. 

The stretch, the fullness, it was almost as shocking now as the first time you’d felt him buried inside you. It was perfection, blissfully indecent perfection. You moaned his name, your fingernails clawing at his shoulders as he began to set a punishing pace, driving up into you hard, rutting his body against yours enough to stimulate you in just the right places, inside and out. 

“Shit!” you swore, letting your head fall back against the tiled wall. 

He fucked into you over and over as you felt yourself edging closer to the brink. You felt your thighs begin to shudder as his pace grew more erratic an unpredictable. 

“So fucking tight…” he groaned before he kissed the valley between your collarbones. 

The strangled need in his voice, the feel of his breath against your skin–all of it coupled with the delicious way the end of his length was pressing into that perfect spot inside you that made you feel like you were losing touch with reality–you were ready. “Fuck, Dyl–” 

He raised one hand to press on your chin enough to force your gaze back to his, the pad of his thumb dragging across your lower lip. 

You moaned and flicked at it with the tip of your tongue. “I’m so close… please!” you begged.

He drove his thumb between your lips and when you sucked it into your mouth, he slipped the hand on your thigh between your legs to rub his finger over your clit just when he drove a final thrust against your g-spot. 

You’d had your fair share of fantastic orgasms at this man’s hands, literally, but this one was up there standing proudly on the podium collecting its medal. It was a rush of pent-up need and desire that washed over you like a crashing tidal wave. Every single cell in your body felt like it was vibrating with pleasure. Your muscles clamped down on him as you felt him join you in his own release. The feel of him spilling into you, the sound of your name falling from his slack lips, making it all so much more intense. It was perfection. Pure and simple. Absolute. Unadulterated. Bliss.

Your chest heaved against his, both of you softly laughing between kisses before you felt him slip free of your body. His hands warmed up your arms before they cupped either side of your neck. 

“I love you so fucking much.” 

You smiled at him, leaning in to run your nose along his throat until your lips were at his ear. “I love you too.” 

He sighed and his lips found yours, but he held back from the kiss long enough to speak. “Hell of a welcome home.” 

[hazbinshusk]

HEAR ME OUT!! 33 to blitz, but somewhat freshly after he got the burns from the circus fire

prompt #33: a kiss to a scar, birthmark, injury, or other marking. (I don't like writing teen characters, but I wanted to go with the pain of 'new scars' here, so I wrote with the idea of him knowing reader from his circus days in mind.)

“You should have called me,” you reprimanded gently, straddling Blitzø’s lap slowly. His hands come up to rest on your hips automatically, claws curling in your shirt. “If I’d known about the fire, I would have…”

You break off with a sigh. “…You should have called.”

Blitzø shrugs, avoiding your eye. “Yeah, well… don’t take it personally. Turns out I’m not so great at pickin’ up the phone.”

You smile sadly, taking his face in your hands and turning it gently up to meet your eye. “’s okay. You always were a slow learner.”

He frowns against the smile you can see him trying to hide, but he flinches as your thumb brushes against the scarring on his cheek. You withdraw your hand, moving to climb back off his lap. Despite his expression, his claws tighten on your hips, holding you in place.

“Can I ask…” you choose your words carefully, biting your lip. Your fingers ghost over the side of his throat, mapping out the edge of the white markings slowly. Blitzø’s eyes close, a furrow between his brows, but he doesn’t move away. “How… how much of…”

“You askin’ ‘cause you’re worried, or ‘cause you just want a chance to get me naked?” he asks, some of that old Blitzø-swagger present in his tone. It makes your lips twitch with a small smile. He sighs, making a show of rolling his eyes. “Fuckin’ forgot how one-track minded your ass was when it came to gettin’ off on my—”

“Slow your roll, Ego Lord,” you cut him off, amused. “Before you start rewriting history, I wanna remind you that were basically kids and neither of us knew what we were doing.”

“Still got you wet though, didn’t I?” he smirks, his eyes closing as you unbutton his shirt slowly. His hands move down to grasp your thighs, palms smoothing over the muscle almost experimentally. That crease between his brow returns as you open his shirt and slide your hand gently over the scars there, too. He presses his hips up into yours, and you’re not sure if it’s supposed to be a distraction or it’s a genuine attempt to excite you. The first flicker of arousal that swirls inside you means that the latter is working. “Went from bein’ daddy’s little girl to being, well—”

He smirks wolfishly, and you slap a hand over his mouth before he can finish the joke. “Don’t be gross, Zo.”

He licks the palm of your hand, and you jerk it away, wrinkling your nose.

“See you’re still a fucking child.”

“And you’re still a know-it-all—” he breaks off as you bring your hand up to his scarred cheek again, the white skin stark against the red of your hand. He sighs, eyes closing. “You don’t need to—”

“I know,” you assure him. You wait until his eyes open again before leaning down to bring your face to his. Blitzø’s eyes widen slightly before he moves to meet your lips with his, his tail winding around yours. You shift just before your lips meet his, instead brushing your lips gently against his scarred cheek. “I’m sorry, Zo.”

His hands tighten on your thighs. “For leavin’, or for stayin’ gone?”

You smile sadly, tightening your tail against his. “Yeah. That.”

send me a prompt and either husk or blitzø

[skrunksthatwunk]

sleepover ARRANGED!! WE HAVE A BOY FOR THE NIGHT

I have never seen a creature leap and bound so much before he's very rambunctious and spirited

ALSO HE CHASES HIS OWN TAIL ITS VERY CUTE

have just been introduced to a kitten named rascal who lives on my floor and whose babysitters (who are not his owner?) were trying Really hard to goad me into adopting which like. he's a little baby and he's so so so silly and he barely even bit me but like also. this cat isn't yours???? anyway if the owner's giving him up then I might finally have a cat which like AHHHHHG

[suguru-getos]

Angry much? | Keigo Takami x F!Reader | Warnings: Degradation, brat-taming, spanking, mean dom!Kei, Still loves you so he’s niceys only you don’t want him niceys iykyk :3

Shoved down on the mattress face first, ass up and beautifully perked on sight for Keigo to do whatever he wishes. Your soft rabid pants were paid no heed to, your futile struggling as well. “Move again and I will fuckin’ tie you up.” Keigo was not nice today, you understood that. You didn’t want him to be nice today in the first place.  “Ngh-” you managed to break out in a fake, resisting murmur which granted you a harsh spank on the curve of your ass. Keigo had long fingers, and a sturdy hand especially when he administers control and reprimands. 

Oh and you love every second of it, sending jolts and waves into you, making you gasp and rut for more. Which is exactly what you did, arching your ass up for more. “Such a needy fuckin-” Keigo stopped, he didn’t want to degrade you. He was very clear about when degradation will happen, it will never be in anything heated, it will only be when you ask for it and both the conditions didn’t suffice.  “AH-” You managed to break out in a whimper, feeling another hit land right across the same spot, while his feathers quickly ripped off your clothing. Keigo was pent up, his emotions brimming with carnality which needed to be taken out, drunk by you and accepted by you. You hissed, feeling two or three paper cuts in your inner thigh from his ever so sharp blade like plumes.  “You okay? Shit-” Keigo registered the happening scenario, taking immediate back foot. “I’m okay don’t you dare stop~” You whined out, resisting it with a boulder-like determination. 

An amused smirk ran down Keigo’s face, “Painslut” He cooed, watching you smirking at the audacious nickname, granting him a ‘Yes’ to the degradation. He realized maybe he shouldn’t be too gentle; kissing your reddened ass once more, before using his feather, making it sturdy and landing another sharp hit right across. You screamed this time- deliciously dancing around in the high of pain and pleasure.  Another- Another scream... Another- Another scream... Another... and you couldn’t scream anymore. The resistance building and your cunt squeezing around nothing, you needed him.  “You pissed me off today, you understand?” Keigo was stern, almost making your confidence shake with uncertainty of the consequences.  “Yes, I understand.” Another hit landed across your ass, this time arching you forward as you squealed, pressing your legs together and tearing up.  “What do you understand?” Keigo’s charming voice echoed, hands sympathetically soothing onto your now bruised ass. “I should have taken your feather with me.”  You managed to speak clearly, knowing full well if you didn’t, if your voice wavered, Keigo would soften up and you didn’t want that.  “Yeah, exposed yourself to?” Keigo murmured, spreading your pussy lips and watching your juices dribble down, softly kissing your needy clit and leaning away. “To danger” You whined out, arching up and shoving yourself closer to his face again. “Grind like a slut and I won’t even grant you friction. Tie you up all night and abuse your pretty tits so your pussy learns to fuckin’ behave.”  You clenched around nothing, it sounded so delicious you’d almost willingly brat more. Then again, Keigo’s tongue feels better anyways. “Sorry.” “Are you?” “Yeah” “Get on your back and present your cunt then, I’ll decide whether to fuck you or not from your desperation” Oh you love him- how his eyes were still tender, mixed with authoritative siren gaze eating you up. You also wanted to be put in your place anyway, Keigo treats you like glass. About time he atleast changes that, scarcely maybe.

[intimacyequalsdeath]

How about Bo with 7, 30, and 41 :b <3

Thank you for this request anon! I hope you enjoy what I came up with for you with the prompts <;3 The prompts anon chose are: Prompt 7: "I told you to stay in the car" Prompt 30: "I'll take care of you, I promise" Prompt 41: "Show me how grateful you are"

For future requests the prompt list is HERE

Notes: Minors DNI, No descriptions of reader used due to them not being provided hope that's alright anon <3. TW: Not really any for this one. "Bo I don't know why the hell you had to wake me up and drag me out here with you for this"

You grumbled tiredly from the passenger side of Bo's truck. He had woken up at an ungodly hour and instructed you to get in his truck. Apparently Lester and Vincent still weren't back from tracking down a new group of stragglers and Bo was none to happy.

"I woke you up cause your the only one in this goddamn family that was still at the house doing what you were told to do"

"Bo, They've been out thousands of times later then this, I'm sure they'll be fine"

"No! I fuckin told those two to be home by the time it got dark. There's no sense is being out this goddamn late"

You rolled your eyes, when Bo was on a mission there was no getting through to him. He was determined to get it done no matter what he had to do.

Soon enough the two of you pulled up behind Lester's truck and could see both Lester and Vince standing on the side of the road seemingly going over something. Bo parked the car and hopped out.

"Stay in the car" He commanded before walking over to his brothers.

You could hear the reverberating yells from Bo when he reached where his brothers were standing. Reprimanding them for being out so late and not trying to make contact with him at all, with a huff and a certain tiredness when it came to Bo yelling tonight, you hopped out of the car yourself and made your way over.

"I told you to stay in the car" Bo said when you reached the three men

"You did, but if you think I'm going to listen to you over here basically blowing hot air at your brothers you're wrong. It's late Bo, I get that you were scared cause you didn't know where they were but can't we go over this tomorrow?"

Bo sighed before bringing a hand up to lift his hat and the other one up to run through his hair. He then put his hands on his hips with a shake of his head as he looked at the ground.

"Fine, but tomorrow morning no one leaves that house till we have a family meetin' you hear me?"

Lester, Vincent and you all nodded and began to return to your respective vehicles. You grabbed Bo's arm to drag him back to the truck as Vince and Les climbed into Lester's.

"Bo honey I get that you were worried but you need to relax, Vince and Lester know what their doing out there and were perfectly fine" You comforted him as he drove the two of you back to the house.

"I know that, but I'm trying to keep everyone safe, It takes one slip up for everything to go fuckin wrong"

"You already do a great job of keeping us all safe Bo, let the rest of us shoulder some of the load"

"Darlin you know I ain't the best at givin' up control like that"

"I know, but you should really at least try to let me help, I'll take care of you I promise"

You could see Bo think for a moment in the overhead light of the truck as he pulled in front of the family house. You always some how knew exactly what to say to Bo to pinpoint how he was feeling.

"Fine, if you think you can handle some of my workload why not. " He finally relents.

"See was that so hard? you should be grateful for me" You said with a smirk.

"Grateful huh? Sure babe real grateful"

"Well" You started with a smirk, opening the front door of the house "Why don't you show me how grateful you are?"

Bo smirked, placing his hands on yours hips and propelling you into the living room.

"Glady honey, I'd be happy too"

[archangeldyke-all]

i was wondering if u could do an angsty lil fucker fic when she gets grounded or shes just been doing a bunch of bold things. (living for these lil fucker and sevika moments)

love this. i'll try my best to make it angsty, but i doubt i'll succeed lol i'm a softie for our fictional daughter hahahaah

men and minors dni

little fucker isn't so little anymore.

she's in her sophomore year of high school, just turned sixteen.

she's in the throes of puberty, her hormones and the endless drama of high school making her emotions unpredictable and erratic.

and you feel for her. you really do. you remember being a kid her age, you remember how miserable you were. but she's taking your sympathy too far, and you're determined to reprimand her for it.

the only problem is, your wife is a total wimp.

"sevika." you sigh, rubbing your temples. "she snuck out, stole the car, and hotboxed it with her neighbor friends. on a fucking school night."

"she didn't steal the car, don't be dramatic!" sevika defends. you scoff.

"you have to drive that car to work tomorrow, you know. you're gonna go in smellin' like a music festival!"

sevika snorts and rolls her eyes, and you reach behind you for the pillow you're lounging on before lobbing it at your wife. she grunts.

"it's not funny!"

"it's a little funny babe. they didn't even drive high! they just sat in our own fuckin' driveway smoking weed." sevika giggles. you chuckle, rolling your eyes and huffing.

"it's three in the morning and we both have to be up at six. you're not even a little pissed?" you ask, flicking the beside lamp off and settling into bed. sevika flops on top of you, nuzzling against your tits.

"sure i am. but what're we gonna do? she did what we always tell her to do-- experiment with drugs at home, don't drive intoxicated, make sure her friends get home safe..."

your groan. sevika's right, you know this deep down. your kid doesn't even know how to drive yet, she just had all her friends walk over and they piled in the backseat to pass a joint around. you don't know how she thought she was gonna get away with it, but it was a little comical watching four kids and approximately six cans of febreeze tumble out of the backseat of your car when you caught them.

"just... can we make her clean the toilets or something?" you ask. sevika chuckles.

"sure. should make her deep-clean the fridge too, there's a bunch of old left overs goin' moldy in there." she mumbles. you chuckle, and sevika kisses your cheek.

just as you're about to drift off to sleep, your bedroom door creaks open. you lift your head up, squinting to make out your daughter's silhouette in the darkness.

"baby?" you mumble. she shuffles over toward the bed.

"...are you mad at me?" she whispers. you groan, and on top of you, sevika chuckles. she gives you a kiss on your cheek, and then she flops off of you, making space between the two of you on the bed.

you reach up and grab your daughter by the shoulders, before tugging her on top of you and into bed between you and sevika.

she bursts into laughter as she flops on top of the two of you, then rearranges herself to get comfortable between you guys.

you turn around to hold her in your arms, and on her other side, sevika does the same.

"you're gonna have some extra chores this weekend, but no. 'm not mad." you promise her, kissing her face

sevika speaks next. "you still high?" she asks.

your kid bursts into giggles, and your heart melts at the sound. really, how could you be mad at her when she's such a cute kid?

"go to sleep." you chuckle. "you got school tomorrow."

"aw, shit." your kid curses. you laugh.

"we love you, you little shit." sevika says.

"love you moms." your daughter whispers. you kiss her head, reach across her waist to grab your wife's hand, then close your eyes. "...can you make me blueberry pancakes in the morning? oooh, and bacon? maybe hashbrowns?" your daughter whispers.

you groan, and sevika bursts into laughter.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Bratty!Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Tired of your antics regarding how cavalier you take your sexual relationship, your lieutenant cuts you off and that has you immediately plotting. You know you can get him to break and all it'll take is one purchase. How can he keep his resolve when he sees what you've bought? And how will he act when he catches you?

Word Count: 6.8 k

Warnings:

The office is silent now except for the distant sounds of movement filtering in from outside the door of people coming and going through the building. Your shirt clings in a rumpled mess to your body, sweat speckling across your limbs from that specific heat that gets shared between two bodies, euphoria still running through your veins when the man sitting beneath you speaks. “We’re not doin’ this again, so get that straight. Understand?”

You tilt your head to the side and raise a curious eyebrow, staring back into the face of your lieutenant as he gets you to your feet and grabs his shirt to throw it back over his head, covering his sweat-glistening torso. “Care to explain what you’re talking about or am I meant to just guess?” you ask with snark in your tone as you pick up the rest of your clothing off the floor.

Buttoning his pants and re-buckling his belt, he takes his time before answering as you finish and stand there impatient and agitated. “What the fuck did I say about startin’ stuff with me when I’m busy?” Lt. Riley questions back, his voice harsh. “Did ya think I was jokin’ or are ya just hell bent on gettin’ caught? Cause that’s what’s gonna fuckin’ happen if ya keep temptin’ me in the middle of the day.”

“You could turn me away,” you say with a roll of your eyes, “ever heard of self-control?”

Stepping up close to your body, the lieutenant grabs you by the chin and looks down his nose at you. “You’re too much of a distraction. And ya need to be taught a lesson, sweetheart; when I say somethin’ I fuckin’ mean it. Consider this my self-control.” 

“Oh, gonna punish me now?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest as you pull your face out of his grasp with a flick of your head. “Okay, go ahead. Let’s see what you got.”

“Ya ain’t gettin’ nothin’ from me til I can be sure you’re gonna listen. You’re cut off, sweetheart, and until ya can learn, we’re done with this.” 

You hold his gaze steadfast, not intimidated in the least. If he wants to play this game, then you’ll play it, but if he thinks this is going to end the way he wants, he is going to be sorely mistaken. “Fine.” You don’t argue, there is no sense to. “Have it your way, sir. Is that all?”

You’ll have it your way soon enough. All it’ll take is patience.

He doesn’t say anything, opting to sit back in the chair behind his desk without uttering another word. It is a gross miscalculation on Lt. Riley’s part not to immediately take your acceptance if his reprimand as a giant red flag, but if he isn’t willing to put his knowledge of your competitive temperament to use then that is fully on him; he is a big boy and since he wants to talk about consequences, then he should be ready to receive his own.

You double check yourself in silence before you leave his office with a smug sense of satisfaction, though a plan isn’t in mind just yet. It doesn’t matter really, the bigger they are the harder they fall and you are confident that you can make him fold with very little effort because despite being a man of mostly mystery, you know the intimate details of what makes that 6’4” military officer weak. 

The day isn’t even over before you already have a plan in mind and it all involves one very specific item. It’s a shame you have to order it, but the time it’ll take to come in the post will work in your favor. Lt. Riley needs time to cool off, to miss his pretty thing, to let his appetite for you get ravenous again.

Patience was never your virtue unless it came to getting something you wanted, so you bore your restlessness in silence as you waited for your order to come in. You give the lieutenant his space without a fuss, letting him believe his little delusion that at any moment you’ll come crawling back ready to obey him just as he wants.

A week passes and then nearly another when finally you are gifted with your prize that comes in the evening mail that Friday. You can taste the sweetness of your retribution already as you rip into the package and pull out the smallest, tightest pair of jet black hot pants with white trim. No more keeping this body for his eyes only; if he doesn’t want to give you the attention you desire then someone else will. 

You rush to your barracks the second the day comes to a close with your package in hand; you have only a short window of time to pull your entire plan together or you’ll be forced to wait till after the weekend and you are tired of waiting. Tonight is the night that you make your lieutenant come crawling back to you and stop with this nonsense.   

The tiny swath of fabric covering your ass barely hides a damned thing from view, hugging around your hips like they are painted on and resting at the very top of your thighs so that the underside of your butt peeks out from below the hem. There is a slit that goes up the side and it is doing its job in making your legs look extra long while also showing as much skin as possible. It leaves almost nothing to the imagination for anyone who happens to look your way… and boy do you want as many eyes on you as you can get.

Let’s see him be steadfast in his resolve to teach you a lesson now.

With a head full of devious thoughts, you leave your room and head out onto base and into the oncoming night. Shoulders back and head held high you walk past the buildings with confidence on the way to your first stop of the night: the officers building. You had checked the clock just before you left, it’s nearly time now. He’ll be leaving his office soon and you need him to catch sight of you on the way to your second destination: the rec center.

How lucky it is that the lieutenant is a man of routine and so giving it another minute or two you step out in front of the building and start heading directly for the rec, though at a slower pace than usual. And sure enough, when you’re still within eyeshot, you hear the front door to the building open. 

Stepping out into the cooler evening air, Lt. Riley looks up and his sight is captured by a figure moving just up ahead in the distance. People coming and going isn’t abnormal on a military base, but what really catches his attention is the familiarity of the body and the way that body is dressed. He is stunned in his tracks because you are barely wearing anything at all with shorts that look like they’ve been painted on. Paired with the tight black tank top you’ve chosen and you might as well be naked for all the covering it does. After a good almost two weeks of no action, the man is starved…but also curious as to where the fuck you are going dressed like this. 

The best thing would have been for the lieutenant to turn tail and walk away, leave it and you alone, but as smart as Lt. Riley is when it comes to temptation the man is a goddamn fool that cannot help himself.

You are a good bit ahead by the time he takes action and decides to follow you, but he keeps the pace as heat floods his body from staring at the back of you walking away, desperately wanting to take a bite out of all that juicy meat tempting his gaze as it bounces with each sure-footed step you take. Fuck, he is a sucker for all the plump, tender parts of your body and having them on display like this is a regular buffet that he can’t help but soak up even with his nosiness into what exactly has you looking so killer. 

Those auburn eyes of his continue to follow you as you come to the front of a building and enter. Now that you are out of view, he can think more clearly and he realizes that it’s the rec center that you’ve just entered. The closer the lieutenant gets, the more he catches raucous sounds of many voices braying like a pack of crazed hounds, making him quicken his steps that match his rising blood pressure until he stands just outside the doors to peer in without being detected yet.

Through the glass doors he can see towards the back of the main room that a group of privates surrounding the single government bought pool table with cues in hand are now circling you like wolves circling a wounded deer, practically begging you to join them for a few games while he knows that its only to get you to stay longer so that they can enjoy the view. It makes his blood boil to watch them ogle you like that, getting far too close to what isn’t theirs. 

…to what belongs to him.

Standing in silence, now cloaked in darkness as night has fallen, he watches angrily as a private gets bold enough to place his hand at the small of your back just as you lean over the table to make your first shot and suddenly he is seeing red. He can barely comprehend anything through the angry haze clouding his vision, but he can feel the cold steel of the door handle in his hand as he wrenches it open and stalks inside as if he is ready to kill.   

All eyes immediately drift towards the source of the sound. You look up through a giggle to see the form of the lieutenant standing there, sharp gaze boring straight into you specifically and the man who still has his hand on you. 

“What’s goin’ on ‘ere,” that deep voice booms through the small space to quiet the rowdy bunch.

“Is there a problem, sir?” one of the more brave privates speaks up.

His sight doesn’t leave you. “Seems we need to have a chat about propriety,” he growls. “This is a military base, not a fuckin’ strip club.” 

You smirk. “I don’t know what kind of strip clubs you frequent, sir, but I can assure you that this is more clothing than most will allow.”

A few of the privates snicker behind you, impressed with your audacity to backtalk someone as imposing as the skull-masked officer and that does nothing but add fuel to the fire.

“Come with me- now.” His voice is firm. 

A collective “ooooh” passes around the bunch that is quickly quelled with one harsh glare. “If I were ya I would get back to my fuckin’ game,” Lt. Riley barks. “Or would you lot rather be placed on permanent fire guard to drive the goddamn point home, since ya want to meddle in an officer’s business?”

His command is absolute and none of the privates have the balls enough to question it. Quickly they scramble back to their game, keeping their heads down and eyes locked to the table. Whatever trouble you are about to get in is none of their concern, not when being reprimanded by the imposing lieutenant is on the line.

Satisfied, those amber eyes snap right back to you. “Move, now,” he demands and points towards an area of the rec that is blocked off by a wall, essentially cutting the room in two and will give enough privacy that the others inside won’t be able to witness what is about to transpire. 

“Of course, sir,” you say in agreement without a syllable of dissention. 

Turning on your heels you take off in the direction pointed out to you, walking ahead of the masked officer eagerly. He’s mad; there is no need to turn around, you can feel his glare on you the entire walk over and it makes you smile. You’ve hit the nerve you had hoped to. Now to bring it all home and get your lover back the way you want. 

As soon as you make it behind the cover of the corner his hand is on your waist as he shoves you into the wall with brute force. Your back hits it and you let out a surprised gasp. He stands towering over top of you, a powerfully intimidating figure with a massive presence to match as he glares you down with fire in his gaze. 

“Can I fucking help you?” you ask as you quickly regain your composure.

Christ, when you want to get his attention you sure know how to do it. “What the fuck do ya think you’re doin’, hmm?” he questions back heatedly. “Puttin’ on a fuckin’ show for all the privates? Do ya fuckin’ think this appropriate, what ya got on?”

Something about having this conversation with the barrier of his balaclava covering his face infuriates you as if this was any other time he would have already had it off his face. “You think you can just treat me like everyone else after all we’ve done? Fuck you; take off the mask when you’re talking to me.”

His eyes narrow as he shakes his head side to side. “You don’t get to make demands a me anymore, princess.”

“Oh yeah?” you challenge back. “That what you think?”

Leaning in a bit closer, you can feel the heat of his breath even as it filters through the fabric. “That’s what I know. Now answer the question. Do ya think this is appropriate?”

Your shrug is nonchalant. “For field work? Well, it depends on the climate I suppose. That doesn’t really apply here does it, since we are still on base. Why? Do you have a problem with it?”

A sharp hiss of air exits rapidly out of his nose. “Like hell I do,” he says and suddenly you can make out the feel of his fingertips as they toy around with the fabric at the edge of your shorts. He lets them brush against your outer thigh as he follows the line of the hem up the slit that goes higher towards your hip. There is electricity in his touch and it makes your pulse start to race. “You're distracting my men. An outfit like this is askin’ for attention. Whose fuckin’ attention ya tryin’ to get, hmm?”

“Who said anything about attention?” you question him back as if you can’t possibly understand what all the fuss is about. “I just wanted to be comfortable. You know, unwind and all that after a long week.”

“Comfortable,” he scoffs as he rolls the fabric in between his fingers. “Ya barely have a god damned thing on.”

“Maybe that’s how I feel most comfortable,” you push, your reply a little more breathy. “You of all people should know that.” 

Oh you are walking on thin ice, lying to him like this. He is not that innocent that he can’t tell what you’re doing and you are not that naive to think that he won’t immediately figure it out. Harshly grabbing your chin, he holds your face firm in his grasp as his dark eyes shadowed within the confines of his mask stare back into your own. 

“Don’t ya lie to me, sweetheart,” he says, that gruff voice metered and unyielding in its severity. “The way ya were just eatin’ up how those boys reacted, I know ya didn’t fuckin’ dress like a slag for nothin’.”

“Are they not allowed to look, Simon?” you ask without missing a beat and using his name as if it’s a curse.

The question hangs in that air as Simon shifts in his stance while not saying a word, eyes narrowing as he realizes that there is no right way for him to answer that without giving himself away that he has dug himself into trouble.

A smug grin crosses your lips before you try to lick it away. “Ah, so that’s the problem right? That they were looking at me? Strange, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were… jealous. But that can’t be right, can it Simon? Because I thought I was cut off and that you were done, so it’s all fair game yeah? Unless there is something you want to fess up to?”

Simon’s chiseled jaw twitches under his mask as his eyes shimmer; you are pushing it, though why is he even surprised. “Ya better watch it, luv,” he warns under his breath as his grip along your chin tightens. “You are playin’ with fire and if ya ain’t careful, your pretty little fingers are gonna fuckin’ burn.” 

And before you are even made conscious of it, your mind immediately knows what to say in response. You hold his gaze steadfast in your own. “Make me.”

Those two little words and their variations are Simon’s kryptonite and you know it; that’s what got you on his cock in the first place. Nothing else can make that man go feral than a threat from a bratty bitch that puts him in the position to show them the consequences of what their cocky attitudes get them.  

You smirk, satisfied with how you seem to have the upper hand in this little confrontation. Simon is now in a place where he will either have to admit he still wants you and that his threat meant nothing or he will have to let you go… and you know by the rapid increase in the rise and fall of his chest the longer you stand between him and the wall that the latter is looking less and less likely. 

“Still waiting on your answer,” you say with a smug, satisfied grin spread across your lips, “or is it that if you say anything, it’ll make it clear that you are now regretting a certain… decision… you so hastily made?”

God, you know just how to rile him up in the exact way that both infuriates and entices him. His devil with a pretty face, his sin that feels like heaven; he is drawn to your stubbornness like a moth is drawn to a flame.

“Ya vicious little bitch,” he says, the words sharp. 

Gotcha, you think to yourself. You have that serious military officer right where you want him. Now all you have to do is go in for the kill. You take a step into him even with your chin still secure in his grasp. “Oh yeah,” you respond, your voice husky. “As if you don’t fucking love it.”

You are met with only silence as a shiver runs straight through him. He’s barely able to react in time to hide its presence, but grits his teeth hard and stifles any movement other than the rapid breaths he continues to take. 

“Cat got your tongue?” you ask and wait for a response that doesn’t come; you don’t expect it to. “That’s what I thought. So, here’s how it’s going to work: I’m gonna wear what I want, when I want, and if you don’t like how others react to my wardrobe then that’s on you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I got a game to return to.” 

Pulling your head back forcefully out of his grip, his strong, rough fingers release your chin and he watches as you make your move to step past him, but he can’t let this go like he had originally planned. This is the game you both play and he just can’t quit you. You are his, his, and he isn’t going to just let you forget that. You barely take the first few steps around him headed back the way you came when you hear Simon mutter under his breath. 

“Fuck,” the sigh hits your ears before his arm jettisons out and grabs you by the wrist. 

Your body is spun around and pulled into him, your back flush against his warm chest as he leans himself back against the wall. His hand shoots up to cover over your mouth, cupping across your cheeks to stifle any sound that may come from the shock of his action. Sure enough you gasp into his palm as he straps you to his chest by locking you in place with his other arm. 

“You’re not goin’ anywhere, princess,” he grunts lowly into your ear. 

Stoic and silent he pushes a knee up through the gap in your legs to widen them before his hand slinks down your abdomen, over your pants, and comes to rest against your sex. That large palm now nestled in between your thighs presses up into you and it only takes a few seconds for Simon to realize that he can feel the lips of your pussy straight through the thin fabric of your pants without any barrier. No panties, really?

You fucking witch. You planned this, didn’t you?

There are still soldiers hanging about, out of sight for the moment, but still not something that is conducive for such an encounter. He wouldn’t risk something like this…would he? What you think is going to be a quick touch and pull back turns into his hand locking to your pussy as he begins to massage it through your pants. He pushes his fingers up through the cloth until he can feel the outline of your clit on his fingertips.

A quiet chuckle falls from your lips behind his handmade muzzle as his fingers make contact with the crotch of your shorts and you feel his chest jerk as he struggles to catch his breath. Feel something you like, lieutenant? you think as the corners of your mouth upturn against his skin. 

A moan barely squeaks out from around his hand before he presses it harder against your lips. “Don’t need someone catchin’ us, do we? Not til I’m finished with ya.”

Those heated words cause your heart to race violently, thudding strong against your ribcage to match a certain throbbing growing in strength between your thighs. 

“You gonna keep quiet?” he asks and you nod in his hand. “Don’t make me regret it or else, princess.”

Simon removes his palm and wraps his arms around your waist; you’re not going anywhere. “We could still get caught, you know,” you say softly, stumbling over your words as his fingers continue to play.

“Ya should've thought of that before ya tempted me with this fuckin’ skin, luv,” he murmurs against the side of your head. There is no way in hell you are getting out of these shorts without him fucking you out of them, he will stop only when he can feel a wet spot soaking through the crotch. “ ‘Sides, maybe I want that prick that had his fuckin’ hands on ya ta see that he doesn’t stand a chance.” 

He won’t, he has never been the type to share but the threat serves its purpose. The boys at the pool table continue to distract themselves, but who knows how long that will last. If they come creeping over, there is no way they won’t instantly know what is happening. And yet over and over his large fingers grind against your clit until it begins to ache. 

“Gimme your hand,” he searches for the appendage, only to be met with resistance once he locates it. 

“I said give,” he reiterates the point in that more authoritative tone he is used to using with his men.

You shake your head that still rests in his grasp; you don’t want to make this easy for him. If he wants something he is going to have to work for it. Encapsulating your wrist in his hand, the muscles along his forearm strain as he drags your arm up from your side. He takes your hand firmly in his, fingers lacing themselves over the top of your own as he descends them both down the front of your body and slips them into the waistband of your shorts. No time is wasted in bringing them directly between your legs, parting through your warm, soft lips, and nestling both sets of fingers inside. 

“Gonna need ya ta participate in this part,” he says, low and bassey at the side of your face. “You’re fuckin’ achin’ bad, aren’t ya? Christ luv, I can already feel how swollen your clit is.”

Simon keeps your conjoined fingers resting up against that tiny bundle of nerves. There is a tension-filled pause as he takes a deep, labored breath as the end of his thought hangs anxiously in the air, waiting for him to finish it. His lips are right at the threshold of your earlobe, you can feel their presence as they ghost near the tender flesh, the skin tingling as his warm breath wafts over the area.

You suddenly realize the lack of oxygen filling your lungs as he finally speaks. “Let’s make it worse,” he growls. 

A shiver snakes through your spine as he forces your fingers to work in tandem with his in rolling circles over your sensitive clit, stroking again and again in a steady rhythm that he has set. 

“Best hope they decide to leave soon, sweetheart,” he breathes the words into your ear as he rests his forehead against your temple. “Cause if ya want me to let ya fuckin’ come, they’re gonna have to be gone. Until then we’re just gonna have to keep ya wet and fuckin’ ready.”

His phallus pulses against your ass through his pants, bobbing with his racing heartbeat as it prods into the cheek of your ass. A struggled, shaky breath escapes your lips as he moves his hips to press it into you; your sanity is hanging on by a thread. All you want is for him to bend you over, rip your shorts down, and thrust inside, but no matter how much you rub against it he does not take the bait.

Time passes so much slower as you stay strapped to him, his hand and yours shoved down the front of your shorts keeping you wet. Your sanity is beginning to wane; no one should be expected to keep it together when a lover who knows your body like the back of his hand is using everything to his advantage to keep you aching.

Pressure gathering in the pit of your stomach only to dissipate before it can ever come to fruition, over and over Simon brings you to the brink only to back off once you get close enough. It feels like eternity in the haze of his capable fingers working your body before the men finally decide that they have had enough with standing around the quiet center when the local bar is just a short drive down the road and head out, completely forgetting that they haven’t seen either you or the lieutenant for quite some time, but they also haven’t seen either of you leave. 

The moment the door shuts and the last sounds of talking can be heard drifting off into the distance, you are released and again turned only to be shoved back against the wall. Simon is immediately pressed against you, one knee collapsing into the wall between your legs as your hands greedily claw at the cloth gathered at base of his neck, fingers pulling up the bottom of his mask without hindrance so that they can get underneath it and push it up to expose his hungry mouth. A devilish, toothy grin waits to meet you as the fabric is removed; he’s proud of the desperation he has left you in. 

“They’re gone,” you say with a heavy bit of neediness. “I did what you said.” 

“Ya want me ta give it to ya now, that it?” he asks with a smug sense of self satisfaction. 

“You promised,” you shoot back, the agony of waiting becoming unbearable the longer he takes. 

His face inches in closer to yours, hot breath meeting and wafting over the skin on your lips as he exhales. “Ya think this is gonna be some sorta reward?” he asks, his voice lowering into the deeper part of his register, that gravely vibrato that turns your legs into jelly just from the sound.  

Those full lips of his ghost over your own, making the skin quiver from the proximity. Your mouth parts open as suddenly you feel like you can’t get enough air while waiting in misery for him to break and crash on you with all of his desire. A breathy gasp escapes through the gap as that thick thigh of his presses up into your pussy. He has you right where he wants you now.  

“Ya still got a fuckin’ lesson ta learn, princess,” he says. “So, I’m gonna have ta fuck the attitude til it comes drippin’ right out of ya.” 

And with that he leans down and forcefully connects your lips together so that your head hits the wall behind you. Fiery and aggressive he embraces your mouth again and again, lips fighting for dominance with each new connection. Breath and spit are shared as the wet smacking sounds of skin on skin hits the air and fills up the quiet of the place. 

You haven’t gotten your fill yet, but suddenly you find your body being lifted into the air and carelessly flung over one of his broad shoulders as he drags you back into the middle of the room. He eyes his destination the moment it comes into view from around the wall and quickly makes his way over to it; somewhere he can put you so he can get to work.

Your backside makes contact with the smooth felt of the pool table as Simon sets you down on top of it. The cool surface of the rails raises goosebumps on the back of your thighs as he situates you right at the edge. No longer pressed together, a spot of cold radiates from his thigh and he looks down to see a present you have left for him right on the fabric.

“Look what ya did,” he growls, pointing to the obviously darker patch on the inner thigh of his jeans. “Made a fuckin’ mess.”

“Whose…ng…fucking fault is that?” you whimper, adjusting yourself as every little movement puts pressure on your aching clit. 

“And I’d do it again ta keep my brat in line,” he smirks as his irises sparkle like a predator locking on to its prey. “Now, open your fuckin’ legs.”

You widen the gap between your thighs more, but he still has to use his hips to shove them open enough that he can fit in until he is right up against you. The sharp edge of his teeth cuts into the plump flesh of your bottom lip as he sucks it into his mouth to give it a hard nip. He swallows down the harsh groan you produce at his delicious brand of roughness like it’s honey. Every single sound you make in response to his actions is music to his ears. 

“Need ya ta know this type a shit isn’t gonna fly with me.”

Fingertips play around the perimeter of your cunt until he hooks them through the cool, damp crotch of your pants and wrenches them to the side to expose your entrance. “Let’s ruin these fuckin’ things,” he smugly says as he works with one hand to undo his pants and slide both that and his boxers down his thighs until his cock pops out of the waistband and stands hard and throbbing for you. “Don’t ever wanna see these goddamn things again after tonight.”

His vice-like grip on the crotch of your shorts causes a few of the overly taut threads to snap as he holds the fabric out of his way to align the swollen head of his cock with that dripping, aching hole he’s been working so that it’s already ready to take him in. You can feel the tip of his hard girth push against the moist skin before he bucks his hips and it strains through the barrier. His grip moves to your waist to force your body further down on him as you whine, the stretch overwhelming, but divine. 

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, princess? Why you wore these tight fuckin’ things, yeah? Ya tryin’ ta make me take ya like an animal?” he grunts, the feel of your tight, silky walls fluttering around his cock as he fills you full threatening to send him straight to hell. 

“The moment I saw ya in ‘em I thought I was gonna lose control. Been a while since I had ya. That on purpose too?”   

You fall backward against the table, your back arching up off it and your eyes roll back into your head as he pulls you down while slamming the length of his phallus up into you until he reaches the base. He doesn’t give you a moment to gather your sanity and instead snaps his hips into you, the intensity in each stroke causing your body to jolt over the felted surface. 

“Look at me,” he grunts as he reaches out to grab at your chin and pull you back up to him, “look - at - me.”

You’re unable to deny him when he’s thrusting so deep and your eyes open to meet his gaze again. “You’re mine, ya hear?” he breathes the words desperate and firm. “Nobody else can look at ya like this, got it? Nobody.”

His breath hitches a moment as a shudder runs through his cock from the way you tighten around it. “Those boys out there mighta gotten a show tonight, but that’s the last they’ll ever get,” he growls more intensely. “Don’t even want ‘em to think they have a fuckin’ chance wit ya cause you belong ta me. You were made for me, princess. Only me.”

Harder and harder he pounds into your pussy with a need that feels like it cannot be quenched no matter how deep he goes. “And nobody else - nobody else- ya don’t need anyone else ‘sides me. Say it.” 

A pathetic whimper is all he gets in response as his cock digs in deep, but that isn’t good enough. You’re gonna do exactly as he says and repeat it - out loud. His grip around your face tightens.

“Say it,” he demands again. 

“Don’t… need a-anyone…else…” you stammer out as it is a struggle now to speak. 

Then you hear it, the distinct sound of fabric beginning to rip. The seam along the crotch has had too much strain put on it and it is starting to give, threads ripping more steadily the harder Simon thrusts. God, that sound is the catalyst to you suddenly feeling wild, like all you want him to do is shred the fucking things off of you by screwing you out of them. It’s at that moment that familiar warmth begins to gather in your belly. It won’t be long now and you’ll be spilling.

“Say: you’re the only one I fuckin’ want,” he insists as he clenches to make his cock pulse inside of you.

Simon’s wide hand slides down from your chin to just at the base of your throat where he wraps it around and gives it a light squeeze for emphasis. The pressure feels like heaven amongst all the stimulation and trying to keep your eyes on him and speak at the same time is nearly impossible, but find your words soon enough.

You lick your parched lips. “You’re the only one I want, Simon,” you moan.

“Again.”

“You’re the only one I will ever want, Simon.”

Another couple of desperately strong thrusts. “And you’re gonna listen from now on, yeah?”

“Yes!” you blurt out.

He pulls you by the throat so that you meet him in a kiss as his hips never stop snapping into you. “Such a fuckin’ obedient girl for me,” he groans against your mouth as he breaks free from it. “Now, let’s make ya come so ya never fuckin’ forget who it is that ya belong to.”

Releasing your neck, Simon brings his hand down, parting through your dripping lips to find your clit so that he can rub over it as he thrusts. There is not much more you can take now; all his work before has done its job to perfection and your body is falling apart so rapidly it feels like the nosedive off that first ddrop of a rollercoaster. 

“G-gonna… gonna come, baby,” you stammer out. You bring your lips in closer to his, desperate to kiss him again, but the pleasure is just too much to handle that you devolve into simply panting instead. 

He inhales in ragged breaths the sweet air from your mouth, his teeth grinding together the harder he thrusts. All those days without you have been frustrating as he waited for you to come crawling back. He missed the feeling of you wrapped around him and right now he needs you to come on his cock. 

But this isn’t going to teach you what he wants. Pulling out amidst your whined protests, he pulls you off the table onto your feet and spins you around before pushing your upper body down while guiding you to spread your stance wider and ripping the crotch of your pants aside again, this time he doesn’t hesitate to enter you.

From this angle the penetration is even deeper and as his finger finds that tiny bud of nerve endings again, you are right back where you want to be - a mess ready to explode.   

“Come for me.” He is demanding while trying to hold it all together. “Now.”

Harder and harder he pushes, thrusting and stroking, and like the flick of a switch all that heat and all that pressure culminates in an explosion that has you crying out loudly as you come with force, your back arching to pull you away from his grasp. Waves wash through your body as the intensity of your orgasm shakes through you until your legs are vibrating around his hips. 

The moment you cry out he allows himself to let go, finally finished with his task, and fucking you through your orgasm he comes so hard that he has to grab the sides of the pool table to keep himself upright. Grunting like an animal he coats your walls and thrusts his cum continuously back up into you until he is spent and cannot go another second. 

Simon stays inside as you both come back down from that exhilarating high, two glistening bodies conjoined at the forehead with eyes closed until he has enough strength to pull his sensitive cock carefully out of you. Both of your mixed juices follow his cock out, dribbling out of your entrance to collect in the crotch of your pants as they snap back into place now that there is nothing keeping them pushed aside. 

You flip yourself back over and lean against the edge of the table to look down at what’s left of your shorts. They are completely soaked, drenched in so much of your juices that they look wet. The ruined fabric clings to your body as if it’s glued on and you are left feeling cold down there as Simon pulls away.

“That’s better,” he says with satisfaction as he studies his handiwork of the ripped, saturated fabric. “And so is this.”

A more gentle kiss is placed on your lips this time, one in praise of you doing so well for him. You reciprocate the feeling by cupping his face in your hands.

“And we’re not gonna have any more a this, right?” he asks as he pulls from your mouth.

Looking into his eyes, a subtle smirk contours your lips. “We’ll see,” you say as Simon shakes his head.

He wouldn’t expect anything less.

“So,” you continue, “I’m just wondering if you thought about how I’m going to leave here, now that I look like this. Gonna need something so I don’t have to cross base.” 

Across the way he spots a random jacket hanging off the back of a chair, left by one of the privates no doubt. Looks big enough and he returns with it in hand. Carefully he circles the sleeves around your body and ties them in front to cover you until you can get back to your room and change. Don’t need anyone seeing anything they shouldn’t.

“I did really like these by the way,” you pick as Simon pulls you by the knot in the sleeves wrapped around your waist back into him to catch your lips one last time with his.  

“Don’t ya worry, sweetheart, I’m gonna be gettin’ you a new pair, ones that I chose,” he says. “Cause I’m gonna be the only one that gets to enjoy this fuckin’ view from now on. And it’s a view you’re gonna give me ‘gain and again, darlin’.”

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

as someone who only just watched bullet train and wanted to find tangerine stuff, i was SO worried i was gonna be getting myself into a dead fandom but so happy to find your works😭😭💕💕 Could i request tan with an innocent reader who doesn’t get any of his innuendos or dirty jokes and sometimes scolds him for his bad language?<33

hii!! thats so so sweet, I and many others have got lots for you to read, so no worries!! and I absolutely love it! thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

potty mouth

tangerine x f reader

wc || 0.7

warnings || lots of swearing, bc duh it’s tan😭

a/n || had this in my drafts

masterlist + rules

taglist

Tangerine had the mouth of a sailor, there was no doubt about that. He would constantly spew strings of curses anywhere and everywhere he went.

Throughout your relationship with him, you have learned a few new curses, some you had no idea were even a thing. But with Tan’s cockney tongue, you’ve grown quite accustomed to his rather crude vocabulary.

“Ah, you fuckin bellend.” He hisses, forcefully placing the kettle back on its spot. “Twat.”

“What happened?” You ask, looking over your laptop from the dining table.

“Fuckin water splashed up, didn’t it.” Angrily dropping a spoon into the sink.

“Fiver.” You nod, keeping your eyes on your screen. “Five quid in the jar.”

“Oh get fucked.” He chuckles, sliding your cup of tea across the table to you.

You smugly grin. “Oh, that’s definitely two more, pop in seven. Keep going like that and I can my nails done.” Hiding a giggle as you reach for your mug, raising it to take a sip.

Laughing. “Dick.”

Making a playful expression, eyes blown wide as you gasp. “I’m definitely going to get my nails done at this rate.”

“Shut up.” Grinning as looks over at your screen, clearly trying to distract you. “What you working on?”

“Yeah, nice try. Gimme.” You smile, extending your hand.

“I thought it goes in the jar? Hm?” Hiding a smirk as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a few notes before laying them in your hand.

“It’s also known as ‘my purse’ … that’s sixty?” Head cocking as you looked at him.

“Yeah, so you can get colours on your nails, or whatever you get.” Acting coy, as if he didn’t know any of the lingo.

“No-no. I was just kidding.” Sliding the money along the table.

He nods warmly, wryly smiling as he did so. “I wasn’t… keep it, treat yourself.”

“Now I feel bad.”

“Good, you should do. You just robbed me sixty quid.” Pretending to look offended as he stands. Nodding into the other room. “Come watch tv with me, I’m bored.”

“Sod off.” Snickering as you closed your laptop, taking his hand as he leads you into the living room.

Faking a gasp as he turned around. “That’s two pounds, that. I’ll make a jar for you, hypocrite.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s the same as the ones you say.” Laughing earnestly as you slump into the sofa beside him.

“I suppose I can let you off.”

You snuggled into his side, looking up at him with a sarcastic expression. “That’s so kind, thank you.”

“I guess it’s alright.“ Grinning as he picked up the tv controller, flicking through the channels. “What would a perverted frog say?” He asks practically out of nowhere, his gaze fixed on the tv. “Rubbit.”

“Uh—?” Head tilting to the side in confusion. Brows furrowing as your mind worked wonders to decipher what he meant.

He lowers his head, nodding slow as a way to prompt you to understand. Noticing your confused furrowed brows, he slowly adds. “Rubbit— rub it.”

“Oh, you are disgusting.” Hiding a snicker as you gently slap his chest.

You’d never hit him with any malice, it would always be a gentle love tap. You didn’t want him to feel like a child being reprimanded by his mother, so you always made sure to do it lovingly and playfully. Tangerine is the kind of guy who is naturally cheeky and charming, so much so, that his dirty innuendos usually fly over your head.

“What do you call a lesbian dinosaur?”

“I don’t know, what do you call a lesbian dinosaur?” You ask, entertaining him.

“Lickalotapus.”

“Are you done?” Stifling your laughter as you pretend to look displeased.

“Nah, I got a few more… what’s the difference between pink and purple? … the grip.”

“Alright, you know what?” Giving his arm a quick harmless tap. “Where’d you even learn these?”

“Lem, he taught me when we were kids.”

“Liar… there’s no way, that he taught you.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Not particularly, no.” Suppressing a laugh as you turned your attention back to the tv. “Fancy watching Thomas?” You asked, playfully provoking him.

“Fuck off am I watching that… yeah, yeah I know.” Scoffing as he reached into his pocket, immediately noticing your quirked brow. “You’re gonna be effing minted, aren’t ya?”

Smiling sincerely as you snatched the pounds from his hand. “That depends on you.”

@tangerinesgf @kpopgirlbtssvt @ch3rries-n-cream @earth-elemental18 @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @thewinterv @navs-bhat @ilovetangerinewithallmyheart @theredvelvetbitch @randomawesomeperson102 @lov3lypeaches7 @princess-pebbles-things

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 🎃💦 ∘₊✧ 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝟠 ✧₊∘

|| ︶꒦꒷𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥꒷꒦︶ | main masterlist ||

@absurdthirst's Kinktober 2023 Prompts

Day 8: Sex Pollen/Fuck or Die, Chastity, Sexual Competition

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐮𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ A Sᴀᴠᴀɢᴇ Pʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

| PAIRING(s): sub!Joel x dom!OC/reader | RATING: explicit material | 18+  | WORD COUNT: 1.2k | CONTENT: dom/sub dynamics, rope cock cage as chastity device, orgasm control/denial/ruining, rules and punishments | SYNOPSIS: Joel breaks one of your rules and earns his punishment.

The bead of sweat trickling down Joel’s back had almost made its way to the curve of his ass. The singular point of focus he had to save himself from the draw of you was quickly fading. He’d soon have to find something else with which to distract himself, anything to take his mind off the sound of you plunging your fingers into yourself.

“Eyes on me,” your choked command beckons his gaze to you.

It was torture, in the simplest terms, to watch you pleasure yourself while Joel sat not 3 feet away with his hard cock straining against the serpentine weave of rope you’d caged him in.

“It was your choice to not obey me, baby boy,” you remind him.

Joel could barely concentrate on your reprimand with your fingers squelching the slick pooling out of your cunt. He’d begged you to allow him the privilege of tasting you, worshiping you with his mouth and tongue. He swore up and down he’d control himself if you’d just let him touch you. Of course your response had been to remind him that he was in this position in the first place because of his lack of self-control.

So, here he sat, gripping the edge of the wooden kitchen chair you’d pulled up for him to serve as the audience to your self pleasuring. His cock would kick at your little sounds and writhing, only pressing the binding harder into his length. Joel didn’t think he’d ever pouted before in his life, but watching your breath hitch and back arch with no participation from him was a surefire way to make that happen.

“Joel,” you whine. “I wish you hadn’t touched yourself without my permission. I was looking forward to your cock stretching me out today.”

Joel sighs and squeezes his eyes shut. His jaw clenches at the taunting even though he supposes he should’ve known better. You hadn’t shown him any mercy when he insisted he’d only touched himself to the thought of you.

“But you don’t want my tight little hole, do you? Rather just get yourself off without me there?” you sneer. “Well since you’d rather cum without my help or my permission, I guess I’m just gonna have to take care of myself.”

You let out a breathy laugh before giving him a mocking command to keep his eyes on you.

“I need you,” he practically seethes. “I fuckin’ need you so bad I couldn’t even wait ‘til I got home. Had to fuckin’ jerk my dick behind a building like I was goin’ through fuckin’ puberty and couldn’t make it go away ‘til I touched it. I fuckin’ need you.”

He sounds unhinged and desperate, which is where you love him the most.

“Tell me the rules,” you say as lazily as you can put on.

“Can’t come unless you tell me to,” he grits out.

“And did you obey me or were you a bad boy?”

He takes a deep breath. “Was a bad boy,” he mumbles dejectedly. 

“Do bad boys get to cum?” you ask. Your breath stutters as you work yourself faster.

His cock swells at your detached chastising. “No, ma’am,” he answers clearly.

You’re pleased with his honest answer. There was nothing sexier than a man owning up to his mistakes and taking accountability for the consequences that followed.

“You’re being honest and holding yourself accountable. That’s being a good boy. Maybe I should still let you come,” you muse.

Joel tries not to noticeably perk up at the suggestion. “O-Only if that what you want,” he suggests. His voice is wracked with nerves. It’s almost enough to make you come right then and there.

You waltz over to the chair and free his cock from the intricate weave of rope you crafted for him. He lets out a strangled sigh at the relief. His cock bobs eagerly for your touch.

“Bed,” you order, and he’s on his back before you can count to 5. 

You straddle next to him and start fisting his length as the same pace you fuck yourself with. Joel’s riding a wave of excitement over getting to come even though he disobeyed you, and the mental image alone of his crestfallen face when you ruin his orgasm gets you right to the precipice of your climax.

His eyes are trained on you as his breaths come ragged and harsh. He’s waiting for your permission. Perhaps he did learn his lesson after all. But, you’re not going to deprive yourself of what you want when you’re so close already.

“I’m gonna come, baby boy, and then you can come 10 seconds after I tell you to count down,” you instruct with a devilish smirk. You’ve never ruined an orgasm for Joel before, and if his reaction is anything similar to when you overstimulate him it might just become a new favorite.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he gasps out.

Your walls pulse around your fingers as you double over with a slacked jaw.

“C-COUNT,” you moan.

Joel counts backwards shakily from 10, and by the time he makes it to 4 you’ve gathered yourself enough to focus on his disappointment.

“Two,” he practically sobs.

His mouth opens to form the last number when you stop stroking him completely. His brow scrunches immediately as he registers that you’ve stopped stimulating him.

“One,” his choked whisper comes out. Tiny dribbles of cum seep out of his slit while he throws his head back in frustration. His fists ball the fabric of your bedding as his legs kick and writhe. You slam the palm of your free hand over the head of his dick and start to rub vigorously.

His entire body arches in a jolt at the contrasting overstimulation right after such pleasant handling was ripped away. “AAHH! PLEASE!” he shrieks.

You shove him flat against the bed and throw yourself over his chest, thighs on each side of him as he sucks in breaths. You steady yourself with one hand on the bedding by his head and snatch his jaw with your dominant hand and squeeze.

“If you want to come, whose permission do you need?” you hiss.

Joel’s eyes are misted over – with disappointment or overstimulation, you’re not sure. “Y-You,” he whispers. “Yours, ma’am.”

“And who gets to decide if you feel good or not when you come?” you press.

“You do, ma’am,” he answers louder.

“Are you going to disobey me again?”

“No, ma’am,” he vows with a firm shake of his head.

“Good boy,” you praise gently. You lean down and kiss him gently, not for a second missing the pitiful way his mouth chases after yours for a moment of intimacy and connection. That’s what this was, after all, at the end of the day. A way for you and Joel to step into different roles and connect with one another, to give to each other in a way you didn’t with anybody else.

“You’re my good boy, Joel. You just have to remember that the next time you want to disobey mommy,” you say softly against his lips.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies in equal tenderness.

“Good boy,” you say firmly as you kiss him again.