#the closet fucking sucks man

[jellyshark-jester]

Currently having a breakdancing session with myself<333

[pimeboi]

I wish I was cool but unfortunately I am a closeted transmasc so I am only allowed to suffer

[tommygotwrittenoff]

also if eddie diaz doesn't come out as a homosexual in season 8 im gonna kill myself

[waywardsalt]

i like to imagine that both link and linebeck draw on sea charts. link doodles notes for himself but also scrawls little drawings of monsters, birds, people, whatever catches his eye, little kid doodling on the paper available to him when he gets bored. linebeck has intricately detailed sketches of islands he’s seen and ruins or temples he’s checked out, even of some plants he uses.

[supercantaloupe]

truly detest how pcos tags/forums/etc are absolutely crawling with terfs

[chadsuke]

Books Read in 2023:

Humankind: A Hopeful History by Rutger Bregman (2019)

Luck in the Shadows by Lynn Flewelling (1996)

The Last Sun by K.D. Edwards (2018)

The Little Book of Lykke by Meik Wiking (2017)

American Cozy by Stephanie Pederson (2018)

The Queer Principles of Kit Webb by Cat Sebastian (2021)

The Conscious Closet by Elizabeth L. Cline (2019)

My Happy Marriage Vol. 1 by Akumi Agitogi (2019)

Silent Spring by Rachel Carson (1962)

[ID: Covers of the aforementioned books. End ID.]

[nickbutnodick]

being 14 and closeted is great :)

[nomaishuttle]

i simsed my ideal apartment :]

[fungisteri]

Honestly like. Low-key hate how a certain subset of feminists will be like "yasss gnc women 💥💥💥" but the second they're transmasc/align with manhood they're like "oh nvm you're my oppressor and are in no way related to me in my experience with misogyny. goodbye" like. Girl. Butches and trans men are brothers in arms. Please get a brain

[intertexts]

making sahlab & finishing this fuckinnnng season finale islike my white whale atp -___-

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

“Fuck, you’re so wet. This all for me, love?”

You felt your thighs squeeze around your lieutenants large hand at his filthy words, a soft mewl escaping your lips as your mind was too hazy to formulate a response.

“Nothing to say? You had plenty to say earlier when you were running that filthy little mouth of yours.” Simon’s tone was teasing, borderline mean. “Wanted me so damn bad, here I am sweetheart.”

You let out a strangled gasp as he curled his thick fingers, grazing the spongy spot inside of you that had you seeing stars. “P-please.”

“Please? Please what. Use your words.” Simons fingers didn’t relent now that he knew he found your spot. He was nothing if not relentless.

“Please, I need to cum, sir.” You squealed, your eyes fluttering shut, your mind running completely blank.

At that, Simon ripped his fingers from your aching hole, his eyes not leaving yours as he proceeded to suck his digits clean. Before you could even comprehend how impossibly hot the action was, he had you spun around, practically slamming your back against the door of the supply closet you were currently hiding away in.

“You gonna be a good fuckin’ girl for me, Y/N?” He cooed in your ear, his hands roughly ripping your pants down to pool around your ankles. “Gonna be a good girl for you lieutenant?”

You gave a weak nod in reply, not daring to trust your voice. It seemed to be enough for him, as he was quick to unfasten his belt, his own pants pooling around his ankles as he lifted you with ease, prompting your legs to wrap securely around his bulky waist.

“Your pretty little thighs are shaking, love.” He was shamelessly teasing you now, but you’d lost any sense of shame at this point. “Does my cock still make you nervous, even after I’ve fucked you in this closet more times than either of us could count?”

You let out a muffled cry, biting into Simon’s shoulder as he slammed himself inside you without warning, his thick cock a welcome intrusion within your walls. The stretch was delicious, your warm walls welcoming his thick length with ease. You’d never get sick of this, of the way he felt inside of you.

His pace was brutal, never pausing once to let you adjust. He never did, he knew you could take him. You always did.

Your whines seemed to encourage him as he pressed into you harder, your back sure to be bruised from the force of being shoved against the door, but neither of you cared.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you for any one else, sweetheart.” He growled into your ear, his hot breath fanning against your earlobe. “Gonna ruin my pretty girl.”

And Simon Riley is a man of his word.

[coridallasmultipass]

I am once again begging online shop payment processing companies to allow me to enter a separate name for shipping and separate name for billing!!

It's the same address, I'm just trans and have not legally changed my personal name, but I still prefer to receive mail as my preferred name! Like it's literally my professional name, I do business as my preferred name.

Annoying as fuck, and I don't want to chance my bank rejecting the payment (though I'm sure someone at my bank has put a note to allow it on my account by now, since I've contacted them a couple times before when I realized too late that the billing section didn't let me input another "address/name" section, and they said the payment was fine in those cases.)

Anyway, legal name changes should be free and non-advertised for everyone. Tbh, you should get a free name change every time you file your taxes on time as an incentive for good citizen behaviour. Once I am elected pres-

[sleep-0-deprived]

What would it be like if nerdy reader liked erotic books and liked to replicate scenes with yandere Bully?

Yandere bully x nerdy male reader reading erotic books~ ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა

Just imagining your sitting on a chair in the empty school library reading your books during study hall with your face indulged into the book occasionally peeking back over your shoulders making sure no one is behind you when you’re reading, “what’cha readin?” The voice makes your back go all stiff turning around and lo and behold your favorite obsessed bully right behind you with his grin obviously knowing what you were reading.

Just imagining you getting pulled out of the library dropping whatever piece of erotica was in your hands while he whispers something like “if ya don’t want me to tell the school what you like to read then you’ll suck me off just like that girl was doin in that pervy little book of yours?” He’d mumble pushing you on your knees making you suck at his cock through the fabric of his jeans just watching you all hard on the bathroom floor rutting your bulge into his shoes.

Just imagining you working up the courage after school to beg the Yandere to let you fuck him, you keep blurtin out how you’d “make him feel good” basically pouting like a puppy when the two of you are alone until he just gives a nod not thinking you’d fuck him any good, this man laying getting his back blown out was such a humbling experience to have such a nerdy guy on top of him holding his legs to his chest while you ramble on bout “gonna stuff you up s’much”

Just imagining you reading your erotic book getting in the middle of a smut scene sitting in his bedroom all hard practically jumping his pillows squirming when you read the book, until he walks back in that is “damn, didn’t know you were such a slut…” he’d lean against the doorframe mocking you until it happens, him ending up on top of you with you bent over in his bed while he makes you read page after page of smut, if you stop reading he stops thrusting leaving you on edge with a gruelingly slow pace.

Just imagining you laying on your back in a janitors closet after school hours while he eats your ass out messily drooling sucking on your s/c bud gripping the gloves of your asscheeks occasionally muttering out, “was that how they did it in your slutty little books” while his tongue delved deeper and deeper into your hole licking at your inner walls until they puff up with sensitivity just making you bite your bottom lip to keep quiet not wanting to be caught.

Just imagining you making it to a part of your book learning about a new act during sex, and ofcourse who’s better to try it on than your obsessed/very degrading man. You get a “huh??” Face out of him when you ask about fucking the gap between his muscular thighs but you don’t get denied?….here you were behind him groaning and heaving with your cock leaking precum all down his thighs, one hand on his hip the other on his cock while you lay your chin on the back of his shoulder “just a little longer please~” you’d beg him trying to cum while he just degrades the hell out of you not admitting his enjoyment.

[typingbunny]

I‘m obsessed with this

Him pressing her to the ground

His body covering her entire body bc he's so tall and broad, the feeling of his weight on her

The handholding that functions as pinning her down

His red ears (might be from the cold though)

The hand on her cheeks + kinda holding her chin just bc he can since his hands are so big

This is only a guess but convince me that he's not parting her legs with his resting one leg dangerously close to the warmth he "needs"

On that note: the ice melting during the kiss

His outfit is not only pretty but I bet fun to take off as well-

Warning: this is just smut, pure filth.

If you’re not 18+ this is your cue to leave 🚪

Zayne is the type of boyfriend that makes you ride him while looking into his eyes until you can’t hold yourself up anymore because it’s so intense and he’s reaching so deep.

He loves this view. He may be under you but don’t let it fool you to think you’re in charge. If he wanted to he could just fuck into you from this angle by slightly working his hips towards you and make you see stars. However at this point, how hazy you are already that would be just cruel … wouldn’t it?

This angle allows him a prime view to just watch you as you chase your high by using him as not more than a means to get that release you’re craving.

He’s obsessed with you. He tries to hide how much he really adores you because he doesn’t want to scare you away with how much he actually wants you, needs you, but he is sure you can feel his heart pounding beneath your hands as you straddle him regardless of his attempts to mask it. The heart cannot lie.

He reaches up and cups your perky breasts in his big, surprisingly warm, hands. They are so warm they feel like fire on your skin so much it feels like they are trying to burn themselves onto Zayne’s favourite part of your body. After idly caressing your breasts, Zayne changes up the soothing manner and opts for increasing the roughness of his touch as he alternates between massaging them gently to squeezing them harshly from time to time, a feeling that goes straight to your core.

The look on your face, that cock-drunk expression: mouth slightly agape, eyes struggling to stay focused threatening to roll back and you tearing up because of how good he is making you feel. Zayne has jerked off to your face more times than he wants to admit.

He gently cups your face causing you to ground yourself a little and make eye contact with him. His thumb strokes over your cheek in an adoring manner until it travels down to your lips. They are pink and swollen and for a second he thinks about sinking his cock between them, but not now. Now he wants you to cum for him while he is buried deep inside of you. Deeper than any other man ever was nor would for that matter because that is out of question. No matter the circumstances or consequences, Zayne would hunt down whoever tried to replace him. He could easily make it look like an accident. Sometimes his love for you scares him but that’s a price he is willing to pay.

“Open.“

He doesn’t have to elaborate, you know exactly what he wants as you start sucking on his fingers like a shameless whore. His whore. Only his. Forever. The little velvet box bearing an engagement ring, that has been resting in his part of the closet for a while being a token for that.

“Good girl.“

He takes his wet fingers out of your mouth and swirls them around your nipple and a tiny moan erupts from you. Zayne chuckles and you send him a playful glare. That glare doesn’t hold up long though because drinking in how sinful your boyfriend looks under you, you’re quickly occupied with trying not to cum but rather ingrain that image into your memory so you’ll remember it for the rest of your life.

Black hair pushed back, slightly tousled; most likely a result of your doings earlier when his face was buried between your thighs. His cheeks and ears are red, a telltale sign that he is either embarrassed or aroused. Right now it’s the latter. His forehead is covered in beats of sweat and his eyes are filled with something that can be only described as pure lust.

You’re brought back to planet earth by a cold pinch of your sensitive nipples and another moan escapes you. That crazy motherfucker used his EVOL and it felt good. Make lemonade out of lemons or whatever they say.

This was the last straw to your somewhat composure. Now you are clutching onto his shoulders to hold yourself up as Zayne continues his assault on your nipples.

“Zayne-”

Hearing you moan his name always does it for him. He can feel something in him snap, most likely his self control and his blood practically starts to boil.

“Come here.”

And then, with a swift motion he just scoops you up into his arms pressing your chest against his as he rocks you up and down the whole length of cock like his personal fleshlight. If you weren’t moaning and screaming you’d be in awe of how strong he is as he rocks you up and down hitting deeper than you thought was ever possible, muscles flexing beneath his perfect skin. In an attempt to get even closer to him you bury your face into his neck and let yourself be consumed by Zayne’s smell, that certain smell you call home. God the things you’d do for this man.

Clutching your thighs, his fingertips leave little marks that knowing Zayne, he will profusely apologize for tomorrow. Meanwhile you’re holding onto his shoulders for dear life carelessly leaving little crescent moons on his back.

He once pointed out, how much he actually enjoys you “leaving a mark on him”. First you thought it was a typical Zayne move trying to comfort you so you don’t feel bad about hurting him. But one day when you where looking for pictures on his phone for a little gift you were preparing, a photoalbum for your anniversary, you found an interesting picture.

It was Zayne in front of your bedroom mirror trying to photograph said marks on his back. You contemplated to tease him with the evidence but the mental imagine of big mean Zayne (that’s at least what others who didn’t know him thought of him to be) standing in front of your bedroom mirror trying to get the perfect picture was too adorable. What you don’t know is that once he got it, he just stood there in the middle of the room looking at the picture, 6’1 of lovey-dovey mush with a loopy grin on his face.

So right now you are basically clawing at his back amping up the scratches the more he moans and curses under his breath.

Once he can’t take it anymore and the only thing on his mind is breeding you as he cums over and over again deep inside of you filling you up until you beg him to stop, he embraces you tightly and flips both of you so he is on top. Your legs are wrapped around his waist and he feels your wetness all over him. Immediately his hands find yours, interlacing your fingers. What looks like romantically holding hands is his gateway to restrain you, holding them tightly pinned over your head so your tits are completely exposed.

His lips find one sensitive nub and he starts devouring you while looking up at you through his lashes, and you swear if he keeps that up you’re going to reach your high from this alone.

“Zayne please-

M-Move!”

He detaches from his favourite toy, his personal little make her dumb button so to speak, to look at you, a twinkle in his eye. For a second he imagines what it would be like to make you suffer a little bit and make you beg for it. Because he knows you would beg for him. Just like you have many times.

You’re so fucked out and desperate for him it turns him on so much it almost hurts and though he swears couldn’t possibly be any harder he feels another wave of desire wash over him, threatening to drown him. Not only does he accept his fate, the thought weirdly enough makes him beyond happy and he struggles to hide the smirk creeping up on the corner of his by now swollen lips as he goes in for a kiss and you can’t help but surrender yourself to.

“ Whatever you want my love.”

He leans down whispering in your ear, voice laced with desire, and something slightly … sadistic?

“Just remember, you asked for it.”

From that point on, only the gods above can help you and the bed frame …

I don’t know why but I picture Zayne to be less of a butt guy and rather a boobie guy maybe because of cardio lmao … 💭

[rememberwren]

Weeks of bad behavior from your lieutenant have you convinced that he can't get laid. You take matters into your own hands.

Ghost/fem!reader. Rough sex, a nearly submissive Simon, PIV, unsafe sex, pullout method, flimsy premise to explain gross fucking, ruined orgasm. This has been on my laptop for ages please take it. 2.5k

-

It’s your breaking point. 

Once you reach it, a strange calm comes over you. The mission is over, Price has finished taking you all to task for your failures, and Ghost has specifically taken you to task for your own—just like a typical man to notice the speck of sawdust in his Sergeant's eye and ignore the plank in his own. For so long (far longer than just the length of this arduous mission), the friction between Ghost and the rest of the team—between Ghost and yourself—has been building. Like two fault lines grinding alongside each other, there was bound to be a break somewhere. 

You just hadn’t expected it to be you. 

And you hadn’t expected it to be like this. 

“Lieutenant, can I have a word?” you ask, walking damn near double time to keep up with Ghost’s steps. 

“Negative,” he says. “Whatever it is, save it.” 

“No can do. It’s important, sir.” 

“Doubtful.” 

“I insist, sir,” you press, pushing your speed into a light jog so that you can come to stand in front of him and block his way. He reluctantly stops, dark eyes blazing from behind his mask. He’s stripped down, gear abandoned but no less intimidating nor lacking in height or width. Still you keep your chin up, refusing to back down. Something has to give, and it won’t be you. 

“Two minutes. Go, Sergeant.” 

Your eyes scan the hallway. Here won’t do, even if it is night time and the base is quiet. You know that the quiet can be deceiving. Spotting the supply closet, you bound over to check that it is unlocked and—score. It swings open silently, the inside dark and smelling faintly of lemon-scented cleaner. 

Ghost hesitates. 

“It’s important sir,” you promise again. 

You don’t promise that it will take two minutes or less. 

Rolling those dark eyes, he sweeps past you into the closet, flicking the lightswitch. The overhead light hums to life, casting a tinny ivory glow over the room. The shelves are well stocked with supplies, most of which aren’t for cleaning but are typical office supplies instead. There is just enough room inside for a man to lay down if he wanted to. 

You’ll have to test that to see. 

“Take your cock out.” 

Silence, for the length of nearly three of your heartbeats. Ghost’s head tilts, eyes narrowing where he stares down at you. He leans down a little as if to hear you better and asks: “Excuse me, Sergeant?” 

You straighten your spine, refusing to be cowed. “You heard me. Your cock. Get it out.” 

“Why the fuck would I do that?” 

You raise your chin a hair. “The recruits have been talking. They say your bad mood is because you can’t get laid. I’m here to fix that, sir.” 

“Getting your intel from recruits was your first mistake. Of many.” 

“Either I have faith that you aren’t always this much of a bastard or I give in to the belief that you really are. For the sake of my own sanity, I’m choosing to believe the former.” You find a few pins for your hair in your uniform and begin pinning it back, keeping the extras tucked between your lips and talking around them as you prepare yourself to suck his cock. That strange calm is still over you, but beneath it you can feel your better judgment panicking. You’re propositioning your superior officer right now. This could lead to your discharge, and not an honorable one. 

But something had to give. It was either your spirit, or your mouth. 

You drop to your knees even though he hasn’t even reached for his belt yet, hoping to rush him along. His dark eyes follow you, and you see the heat in them. The fingers on his right hand twitch. 

“Do you...want me to do it for you?” you ask, your voice a conspiratory little whisper. It’s the last little push he needs and then he is reaching for his own belt, undoing the clasp and opening it. He unfastens his pants. Beneath his jeans you can already see the bulge forming; proportionately huge compared to the man it belonged to. It made your teeth ache, like the thought of eating something sweet. 

Maybe you were both crazy.

His cock is uncut, a dusky flush just a shade darker than the skin on the back of his hands. His girth is nice; his length is nearly obscene. It takes all of your self control to keep from outright balking at the size of him—though the weepy little cunt between your legs certainly is intrigued by the sight. 

“Well?” he says. “Don’t just stare at it. Suck it off.” 

You reach out and flick the sensitive head cruelly. He hisses, hips jerking away from your touch. “You don’t give the orders here, Lieutenant. If you want your dick sucked, you’re going to be nice to me, once and for all.” 

“What?” 

“You heard me. Ask me nicely.” 

“Yer the one who begged me in here—!” 

You let out a sigh. Drastic measures… leaning forward, your soft cheek brushes against the silky smooth skin of his cock. It twitches against you, burning hot. You turn and let your heated breath fan against it. For all his outrage, Ghost has grown perfectly still above you, not trying to find the perfect angle to slip his cock past your lips or anything else of the sort. 

“Come on, Ghost,” you whisper, lips brushing against him. “I’m about to do something very nice for you. Isn’t it only fair that you ask nicely for it? I’m not asking for much. Just say…please suck my cock.” 

“Suck my cock,” he says. Then, like a murderous afterthought: “Please.” 

You sigh again and shift to stand. His hand is suddenly on your shoulder, pressing you back down. 

“Don’t,” he says, sounding less like the prat he is. “Please. Go on. Will you?” 

“You want me to?” 

“Yes.” 

“Yes what?” 

“Please,” he says through his teeth. 

Leaning back on your haunches, you place the softest, chastest little kiss on the head. He’s aroused enough that the foreskin is just beginning to pull back, and you let your tongue out to lap softly at the exposed head, listening to the way his breathing stutters and stops, the way the leather of his gloves creaks as he makes fists as his sides. 

“Try to fuck my face and it’s over,” you warn him. “You might be thinking of how badly you need this—and I know that you do. But don’t forget this: I need it more. I need this more. If we’re going to work together with any semblance of civility, I need this. Do you understand?” 

“No. But I get the gist.” 

“Good enough for me.” You open your mouth and take the head past your lips, suckling on it. He lets out a harsh breath through his nose, cock jerking against your tongue. You can taste precum already, and you’ve barely done anything. No wonder he’s been such a bastard lately. Has he been fucking his own fist at all? God knows that you’ve spent more than one night with your pruning fingers buried to the knuckle inside yourself, hand over your mouth to keep from shouting Ghost’s callsign when you cum. 

Leaning forward, you take more of him into your mouth, enjoying the heavy weight of him on your tongue. He is burning hot, smells and tastes faintly of sweat from the mission, but you don’t mind; living with so many men has almost given you a strange appreciation for the scent of hard work. Maybe Ghost’s most of all. You take him as deep as you comfortably can, but there are still a few solid inches outside the wet warmth of your mouth. 

You work one hand down your pants and underwear, finding the sopping wet slit between your thighs. Using three fingers, you stroke yourself leisurely from hole to clit, soaking the digits. Above you, Ghost mutters a curse, head tilting almost curiously as he searches for a better angle to watch your hand move beneath the fabric of your pants. Removing it, you hold it up to show him the filmy slick drenching your fingers before wrapping that fist around the base of his cock. 

“You get that wet just from thinking about sucking some cock?” 

Your eyes narrow dangerously, slowly pulling back until just the flushed head rests on your tongue, wondering if he’s being mean enough that you need to stop and remind him of his manners. Apparently just the threat of it is enough; he lifts his hands in supplication, mouth twisting a little beneath his mask. 

“If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything. Didn’t your mother teach you that, Lieutenant?” 

It’s his turn for his eyes to narrow dangerously, an expression that would likely put the fear of God in a lesser man or woman. But with your teeth so close to his cock, you’re not yet afraid. Before he can open his mouth and ruin anything else, you swallow him down as deeply as you can, feeling the thick head press at the back of your throat, your jaw aching. You can taste yourself on his cock and the thought has you whining around his length.  

“Fuck,” Ghost mutters. His hand touches your hair—not to grab, but just to pet. “Yer a pretty thing, aren’t you?”

You hum in delight at this unexpected praise. It goes straight to your soaked core, fanning the flames of the ache between your legs. You are a pretty thing, and you are glad he’s noticed. To reward his good behavior, you lean in until the head nudges the back of your mouth again. Tongue out, breath held, he slips even deeper into the warm channel of your throat. His ragged exhale is as sweet as a moan. 

You give him a few more minutes of your mouth before you grow bored without your own satisfaction. Slipping him free, you work his cock in your slick fist and say to him, voice wrecked: “Time to see if you can lay down in here.” 

Turns out he can, as long as he keeps his knees bent a little. Straddling his waist only emphasizes to you how obscenely thick he is, and you have to stand to shuck your pants and panties down and off altogether. You cast a brief glance toward the door—there is no lock from the inside—but no risk means no reward. 

“I don’t have a condom. You’ll have to pull out. Tell me when you’re close, alright?” 

“Alright.” 

His hands reach for you, gripping your wide hips as you straddle him again. You plant one hand firmly against his chest but hold no illusions that you could actually pin him in place if he decided to move. You lower yourself to brush your soaked slit along the length of his cock, back and forth, until he is soaked in your arousal. 

His mouth opens to say something smart, something that will have you gritting your teeth, but instead you rise up onto one knee and sink down on the head of his cock. It’s all you can take before that pinch of pain strikes you, freezing you in your tracks. His mouth is parted beneath the balaclava, wet, quiet pants that dampen the fabric with each breath. You take your time stretching yourself open, thighs burning in time as you lift and lower yourself over him again and again. 

“Touch me,” you demand of him. 

For all his earlier mouth, he seems content to be obedient now, his gloved fingers searching for the space where you both are joined. The leather traces along the seam where his cock disappears into your cunt before following your parted lips up to your clit. His thumb circles the aching bud with a firm touch, and it helps you ignore the pain as you take another inch of him inside. 

You ride him like that: both your hands on his chest feeling the way it hitches as it rises and falls, hips jerking and swaying as you find the angle that suits you best. 

“Lean back,” he demands. “I want to look at you.” 

“No time,” you pant. “It’s been way longer than two minutes, Lieutenant. I do hate to be wasting your time.” 

“Fucking hell,” he sighs, eyes rolling.

“Don’t forget to tell me when you’re close.” He grunts in acknowledgement, his fingers going sloppy between your thighs. That’s not good enough. You bark: “Lieutenant, do not forget to tell me!” 

He laughs. 

You go to lift off of him, but his laughter turns belly up and dies so quickly, morphing into a strange, desperate little sound as he stops working your clit and grips at your hips, pulls you down more firmly against the cradle of his thighs. 

“I mean it,” you say through your teeth, taking one of his wrists and prying a finger loose until he has no choice but to let go or have it broken. You guide his hand back between your legs. “Don’t cum before me, either.” 

He sits up, jostling you, forcing you to change your angle. His mouth comes down hard against yours, fabric on skin, but you don’t turn him away, lapping at the cotton like it’s his tongue as you kiss through the mask. 

Feeling things slipping out of your control, you press him back down with both hands, pinning him to the floor. The sound of flesh on flesh is loud in the enclosed space. At the apex of his thrusts he brushes against some deep, untouched space inside you that has you digging your nails into him, feeling that ache in your belly writhe and twist into something fearsome. 

“I’m close,” he grits out. 

“Not yet,” you hiss. 

“I said I’m fucking close—“

“Wait for me,” you growl. Then, knowing that you can catch more flies with honey, you soften your tone: “Please, don’t cum yet.”

He shuts his eyes. “Shut up,” he mutters, scrambling for control, fingers digging into your thighs, unsure whether to pull you closer or tear you off of him. “Shut up, shut up, shut the—fuck up.”

It’s your turn to laugh, feeling your release right there, coaxed forward by this pleasurable torture you’re inflicting on him. Never did you think that seeing your superior officer suffering like this would give you so much satisfaction. 

“So close,” you whisper, the tips of your fingers tingling with it. “Simon, I’m gonna—“

When it bursts, your teeth snap closed around a whine, jaw tight as your cunt clenches around him—

—and he jerks you off of him, sending you sprawling against his lower thighs as his ruddy cock twitches and spurts pearlescent seed, one dexterous hand wrapping around the shaft as he jerks himself off through it even after ruining your own. You stare, gobsmacked at his audacity, pussy still twitching and clenching around empty air, the stolen pleasure leaving behind a vicious ache. 

“You bastard,” you mutter. You bat his hand away, gripping his cock and beginning to jerk him off. When you smile, it is mostly teeth, something feral and mean. “Let’s try that again.”