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loveindefinitely · 3 months

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༊*·˚ LIKE THE WAY I FUCK ('CAUSE I GET ROUGH) — an undercover mission with your superiors leads to compromised positions (in more ways than one)

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + könig

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, canon-divergence, age difference, slight power imbalance, jealous/possessive behaviour, discussions of violence, tags to be added

// NSFW CONTENT BELOW THE CUT //

Turns out, undercover missions involve a lot more make-up, perfume and dresses than you'd anticipated.

Being a seasoned task force operator, it's been months, if not years since you've been to a party outside of your barracks. Let alone one of this calibre; CEOs, billionaires on Forbes Top 50, politicians.

It's off-putting.

All of it; it's stressful, and it feels as though your skin's crawling, having so much skin on display, so many eyes on you at once. You feel as though you’re an animal at a zoo, being inspected by families with their snotty-nosed kids.

"Sit-rep, Diamond?"

Swallowing around a dry mouth, you reply to your lieutenant's request through your earpiece, tone low and careful. "All as planned, Lt."

Ghost hums a low sound in reply, and your shoulders loosen slightly from their tense position.

You knew that your superior was already inside, having arrived ten minutes earlier. A small, selfish part of you wished that you'd have arrived with him, if only to see how he cleaned up.

Ghost? In a suit? It's like one of your deepest, most dirty of desires come to life.

Such thoughts that you'd never let leave your lips -- thoughts too likely to wreck your entire career and any opportunity to keep your relationship with the man.

"König?" Is Ghost's next question, although it's just the other man's name alone.

Right.

König.

The other superior featured in your dreams. Thoughts. Wank-material?

Whatever they are, they're becoming all too common, all too realistic, and all too risky.

"Successful entry," König replies, heavily accented voice low and quiet -- he's amongst people.

Your limo comes to a stop outside of the decorated museum, and a suited man opens your door with gloved hands. His upper lip is covered in a well-groomed pencil moustache, and you have to stifle a chuckle. Soap would’ve appreciated it.

With a small smile, you incline your head towards him, lifting up the fabric of your skirt so it doesn't brush against the gravel. It’s so… impractical, and you really can’t help but respect those that dress up like this on a regular basis. Looking down at your outfit, you let out a low breath.

When Gaz and Soap had burst into your room with shit-eating grins and a garment bag, you had just known that your dress was going to be... extravagant at best, and downright sinful at worst.

You were correct, of course.

So, here you are, walking down the red carpet into the building, cameras flashing and paparazzi screaming, in this... dress.

Silky black, strapless, and with crossing lines of fabric across your bare back. Chiffon skirts fall behind you, with a slit rising all the way up to where your thigh meets your hip bone. A gun hides beneath, strapped around your inner thigh, paired with your right, adorning a delicate yet hefty knife.

You look... not at all like a Sergeant on Task Force 141.

You look like a celebrity, one just out of her fans' reach. It's a surreal experience, and the mere thought of your two superiors (crushes) seeing you like this... It's frightening. Maddening. And, maybe, a tad bit exhilarating.

Gaz had insisted on doing your make-up -- having so many sisters made him a fully-fledged artist, apparently. And an artist he was, talented with the brushes of eyeshadow and flicks of eyeliner against your skin.

Soap, for his part, had begged for you to let him do your hair -- but considering his only experience was his mohawk, you were less than lenient. With a huff, he’d let you go to Laswell’s wife with the request, as long as he picked out your jewellery.

And now, hours later, your heels click against the stone tile as you enter the museum.

Soft lighting cascades all of the guests in gentle hues of yellow, laughter and polite mingling surrounding you as you enter the main ballroom, skirts brushing against your legs.

Chandeliers above glisten, a live-band plays beautiful jazz, and servers walk around with trays of champagne and finger foods.

It's nothing like you've ever experienced.

This mission, somehow, terrifies you more than the weight of a sniper in your hand and an order to neutralise.

"Target, six o'clock," Ghost's voice carries through your comms as you take position near the corner of the room. There’s fewer people here, and it allows you a moment to breathe and recalibrate.

Your eyes dart to the direction your lieutenant has supplied, and you catch sight of your target immediately. "Got eyes," you murmur softly, smile on your face as you pretend to fix your hair.

"Affirmative," König answers then.

"I haven't seen you before."

Whipping around to the source of the words, you find yourself face to face with a man who you've seen the face of too many times to count.

"Apologies for startling you," he inclines his head respectfully. He's got a few inches on you -- although you find it hard to consider him tall when you're with your superiors more often than not. His skin is closely-shaved, his blonde hair gelled to the nines -- and a smarmy, trust-fund baby smirk to top it all off.

Extending his hand, he announces, "I'm Phillip. Phillip Graves."

...Graves.

The last name of your target -- the son of your target.

"I'm Louise," you say with a sweet smile, taking his hand and shaking it. Your undercover name was going to have to come into play sooner than you'd hoped. "It's a lovely atmosphere, isn't it?"

"Positive, Diamond?" Ghost's deep voice instantly responds to your subtle codeword.

"Not as lovely as you, I'm sure," Phillip flirts, and you pretend to bat your lashes and hide your face from him.

"Ah... thank you, Sir. You're quite dashing yourself," you meekly reply, giving him a soft smile.

Men like this were so easily played, you found. Not at all like the military men you were surrounded with on such a constant basis. Not at all like…

You can hear both König and Ghost swear underneath their breaths. Releasing the hold on your bracelet -- the one with the built-in comms button -- you shyly bite at your lower lip.

Phillip’s eyes track the movement, and if not for the stakes of this mission, it'd be almost comical.

"May I have this dance?" He asks, offering his arm for you to take. He’s adorning an obviously wealthy suit, dark blue and silky – and it rubs you in all the wrong ways.

You can hear your heart pound in your ears -- this wasn't the way the mission was supposed to go. But, then again, you didn't get into Task Force 141 by expecting every mission to go as planned.

"I would love to, Sir," you smile, wrapping your hand around his arm, allowing him to escort you to the main dance floor.

Subtly folding your hands together around his arm, you're able to push down the button on your bracelet. "You want us to dance in the middle of everyone? I'm not the best of dance partners..."

Phillip chuckles, but through your inner ear piece, you can hear König report, "Got eyes, Diamant."

Chills run down your spine. Either from this situation or…

Or something else that you're not entirely supposed to -- or allowed to -- feel. Not for those two men, and certainly not for your superiors.

"I'll lead you, darlin’," Phillip leans down to whisper into your ear, his lips brushing against your skin. They’re thin, and chapped against your own skin.

His hand moves to sit at your lower back, just above your ass, and the other moves down your arm to interlace your fingers with his. It's an intimate position, your front pressing against his as he starts to lead you with the beat.

Of course you knew how to dance; you wouldn't have been picked for this role if you couldn't.

However, you deliberately misstep a few times, just to play into Phillip’s ego -- his desire for control and intelligence.

"For such a beautiful girl, you sure aren't the smartest," he jests, and it takes everything within you not to just swing your fist and leave him twitching on the dance floor. You could, realistically speaking, but that would cost you all the mission. And you would not let yourself, nor König or Ghost, down.

Instead, you nervously flit your gaze from him, moving in closer to his chest. By his squeeze on your lower back, you know it's the right decision. "I... I'm doing my best, Sir."

You want to crawl out of your own skin at the way you’re feeding into his misogyny, how you’re downplaying your own strengths.

He huffs, a demeaning, cruel thing.

"I want to shoot 'im," you hear Ghost mutter, and you'd be a liar to say that those words in that tone don't make you clench your thighs together as you sway against Phillip.

"Make it a competition, ja?" König quips. There's... irritation -- anger, maybe -- behind his question. It's so unlike the gentle giant of a man, and that fact alone has your breath coming out in a short pant.

Phillip, of course, thinks it's him making you so flushed.

With a vindictive smirk, he spins you, completely throwing you off balance. Maybe a tad too dramatically, you find yourself falling into his arms, giggling a little bit.

...It's worth it to hear Ghost grumble under his breath through the comms.

This whole situation doesn't feel quite real, and you know that their attitudes are nearly definitely due to the stray in plans. That's fine. That's all it can possibly be. It’s all that you’ll allow it to be.

But your mind has never been kind, and your imagination has always had the habit of wandering.

"Let's go get some drinks, hm?" Phillip asks, his hand falling dangerously close to 'inappropriate hand placement' territory.

You shoot him a seductive smile, nodding as he pulls you to the open bar, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, leaving you glued to his side. It’s a possessive position, and you find yourself wishing it was either of your superiors holding you in such a way instead.

"Don't drink anything he offers you," Ghost warns. You almost have the mind to chew him out for not trusting you with something so obvious, but... There's something about such subtle

protectiveness that only feeds your elementary style crush on the man.

"I would love to," you reply as Graves leads you to the bar, hand only moving lower with every step the two of you take. Fear trickles down your spine, your hands squeezing tightly together at your front.

"Say the word and we get you outta' there, Princess," Ghost quips, sharp and to the point.

With your hands already together, you manage to reply an agreement in Morse code -- quick, successive taps of the communications button.

"Good girl," König replies, just a touch breathy from the quietness of his words.

You manage not to trip on your feet, but it's a close thing.

a small snippet, because i feel really bad for my lack of posts!! life is so insane atm its like a satire.

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stsgooo · 6 months

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Look at Him.

✩࿐ summary: your attempts at reentering the dating scene is foiled by your ex-husband.

warning(s): past relationship, clingy!gojo, ex-husband!gojo, co-parenting situation, crack fic. wc; 1.6k

pairing(s): gojo satoru x fem!reader

a/n: this is purely just a goof fic because i've put nothing but angst out there so far sooo have a laugh. hope yall enjoy :3

“So, what do you do for a living?”

"A teacher."

"Oh, wow! What grade, subject?"

"Uh, highschoolers and the subject kinda varies on the day."

"Like a substitute teacher?"

"Um....sure, yeah! Substitute teacher."

"That's awesome. Mad respect, kids can be demons."

You were quickly discovering that the dating field had changed in the five years that you had been married. An endless back and forth about what someone did, what's their favorite color, what's their hobbies. Boring questions that you would ask your students on the first day was used in over the table date conversation. Until, until, they got to that question they so desperately wanted to ask.

Would you want to take this back to my—

There was a vibration against your thigh as your date started to go onto a monologue about how much he disliked kids. In all honesty, you couldn't really remember his name. The introductions had been awkward and a little nerve wracking— you were almost sure he had no idea who you were either.

You tugged your phone out of your pocket and resisted the audible sigh that threatened to leave you when you saw the notification.

Satoru please tell me why my beautiful, radiant, amazing, intelligent daughter just said her mommy is on a date. feeling sick to my stomach, don't tell me this is true.

You rolled your eyes. Your ex-husband had always been so overdramatic. His main focus was always on the bit that could come from a situation. However, this was a quality you do used to admire about him. His ability to make any situation seem like it was a funny happenstance that you'd never encounter again.

Now, it was nothing more than a nuisance.

Satoru oh my god, you left me on read. it's true. it's true. i hope you know i just threw up. i threw up everywhere. i might die. at least, tell me he's ugly. please god let him to be ugly.

A sigh, you typed out the quickest message you could without your date asking what's wrong.

You I hope you're not ignoring said daughter to ask me about some date. I'll be home later, please refrain from texting me.

You were about to set your phone down when another text came through. This one appeared to more distraught than the last.

Satoru o h your tone. it's over. it's really over. i might just kill myself this is the worst night of my life. y/n, i'm genuinely feeling sick. please, is he ugly? he must be boring because you're texting back.

You were almost inclined to remind Satoru you both had been divorced for a year already. That this was bound to happen and you two had, in fact, spoken about it months into the divorce. You had played with some 'what if's and there was a mutual agreement that the other wouldn't get jealous and be dramatic about the other getting in a relationship whenever the time comes. It was a surprisingly adult conversation.

You should've known better when Satoru proudly proclaimed he didn't care who you got involved with.

You Satoru, we talked about this. We're adults and we're divorced. Please bother someone else, like Suguru.

Satoru i don't wanna talk to suguru. i wanna talk to youuu (;﹏;) i can't believe you've done this. ten years. ten years of loyalty. im sick to my stomach.

You You asked for the divorce.

"Is everything okay?"

You eyes snapped up from your phone and towards your date. He had the good grace to be wearing a relatively concerned expression, eyeing you wearily.

You quickly tucked your phone back into your pocket, ignoring the insistent vibrations it gave to smile apologetically. "I'm sorry, my daughter had an accident and I had to, you know, send a quick text to her babysitter." It was easier to explain away a daughter than it was a clingy ex-husband who was well in his dissent into insanity. Really, you were doing this guy a favor keeping him in the dark.

However, his face still paled and he straightened. "You have a kidI'm so, so sorry. I just went on a two minute rant about how much kids are equivalent to demons." He seemed to spiral as he pressed his hands against his face, uttering curses to himself. "I get so nervous with these dates. I truly meant nothing by it."

You smiled in amusement, "It's no problem, really. I'm not exactly disagreeing." He peeked from between his fingers and blinked at you dumbly. "Just because I'm a parent doesn't mean I don't agree. I mean, my kid can be a bit much sometimes. I love her, but she's a lot like her dad in that way."

It always made your chest blossom. The way Saori was a carbon copy of Satoru. From the rambunctious personality, to the piercing blue eyes, and white hair. Your genes hadn't won in the battle, but you were almost grateful. Satoru tried to tell you that she had your smile and your wit, but you weren't entirely convinced. She was Satoru and Satoru was her.

You were extremely lucky that he was a good dad.

"Oh? Do you mind me asking if her dad's still around?" His tone was indication enough: a daughter and an ex of some kind was pushing it for him.

You tensed up, feeling deep regret already. "Uh, yeah." His eyes shifted away and you reached forward, taking his hand. "But, he's not, like, crazy or anything! He's just a good dad."

Your date chuckled nervously. "I-I just don't want to get involved in some, um, some family dynamic."

You thought it was a little presumptuous of him to think this would go that far, or he'd get in the way. But you were too focused on defusing the situation.

"Oh, no, it's not like that! We've got a healthy balance, y'know? He does his piece, I do mine— that's it!"

He scrunched his face. "So... an open relationship?"

"No!" You press your hands against your face with a huff. "No, we're not together anymore. We just co-parent."

He opened his mouth to further question you when your phone vibrated very audibly. His eyebrows raising. "Your daughter?"

You sighed. "Please give me one moment."

With jerky movements, you pull your phone from your pocket. The assortment of messages that came where spread over the ten minutes you decided to ignore him.

Satoru okay, you've got me there. but my big heart is breaking. i hope he's ugly and he smells. okay, i spoke with suguru and he said i'm an idiot who should apologize. in my defense, i'm a little itty bitty drunk. and no, saori is not awake. papa put her to bed before bringing out the whiskey. im so sorry my beautiful deity. that not ugly, not smelly man is so lucky to be in your presence and i hope you have a good date. also i hope he gets hit my a car. (＾▽＾)

You I'm going to kill you with my bare hands. Genuinely, count your days, Gojo Satoru.

Satoru hot, hot, hot!!! (●´□`)♡ did he actually get hit by a car?

You Is there something you want?

Satoru him dead. and you home :((((

You You don't want me home. I swear to god, if you're on my couch, drinking when I get home, I will ruin your life.

Satoru promise??? ╰(✿´⌣`✿)╯♡ but, actually, i wanted to ask your opinion on something

You For real?

Satoru for realsies. [Image Attachment]

Completely blinded by your irritation, you don't even hesitate to open the picture as it loads. Although you regret it the moment it does.

It's a picture of Satoru. He's at what seems to be the beach (must've been the fun activity him and Saori were going to join Suguru for), his sunglasses were on the top of his head, and he was grinning at the picture. One hand was resting against his pectoral and the veins in his hand was prominent. An obvious attempt at being charming and flirtatious. It was working too.

If it weren't for the fact that you knew him and were his ex, you might've just swooned.

"Oh, my god, is that him?" Your date was staring at your phone with wide eyes. His face even more pale than before. He started to shake his head as he stood, snatching his jacket from the back of his chair. "No way. I am not getting involved! I'm sorry, you're a nice woman, but I know when I'm not winning. And I'm definitely not winning against that."

Your eyes widened considerably, "What? No! Please don't leave. He's an idiot, I swear there's nothing—"

"He is... a hunk. I am not. In no shape or form am I at all comparable to that. Look—" He reached forward, grabbing your phone and holding the picture up to be beside his face. "Look at the difference! Model who has won Japan's hottest man at least eight times before he's 30 to me— Look at him!"

"It's not even like that!" You snatched your phone back and stared at him in frustration. "He's my ex, I do not want him!"

He waved his hands in front of your face. "I know how this will go. You think you like me and then your super hot and super sexy ex-whatever makes you realize the familiarity is good. Then I get dumped." He straightened, latching his hands onto the lapels of his jacket. "I just realized I am a side character. In my own life. Goddammit."

He barely glanced at you as he paid for the dinner, then left as quickly as he could. Still, you didn't even know his name.

Satoru oooo taking you awhile to respondddd still in love with me? (人◕ω◕)

#♡ oneshot #✩࿐ t writes #gojo satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fic

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joelscruff · 8 months

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truth or dare (joel miller x f!reader) 18+

notification blog | kofi | in honor of my bestie han @swiftispunk who recently celebrated her birthday (and in honor of spooky season starting 🎃) i thought i'd step outside the boundaries of what i usually write and try something new. i'd also like to give a huge shoutout to @toxicanonymity whose entire masterlist greatly influenced my desire to try something like this. please heed the warnings!!! and as i said this is my first time writing anything like this so pls be kind 🫠

summary: a harmless game of truth or dare ends with you tied up in a certain mysterious neighbor's garage. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: dubcon (reader is given a choice to leave, but not immediately), dark!joel, age gap (reader is college age, joel is in his fifties), unprotected p in v sex, use of restraints, ropes, spanking, degradation, sir kink, dirty talk (use of 'little girl' as a pet name), face fucking, rough sex, creampie, brief anal play, humiliation, inappropriate use of a household item (he puts a flashlight up her cooch), marking (with a sharpie), size kink (joel is much bigger than reader and can lift her), pls lemme know if i forgot anything word count: 8.3k

Your palms are sweaty, fingers sticking to your skin as you stand at the edge of the property with goosebumps already blooming along your flesh. The air is chilly, that end of summer evening air flooding your nostrils as a car drives past through streams of leftover rainwater, headlights blurring your vision for a moment. It passes quickly and you're alone again, standing on the street corner with a mixture of anticipation and dread filling your trembling body.

Everything had been fine about twenty minutes ago. A typical party with your hometown friends, one last hurrah before everyone splits off for the third year in a row to go back to their respective colleges, back to long lectures and underwhelming frat boys. It had gone the same way it always does when you get together - shots, secrets, schemes. No end of summer party could ever be complete without a game of truth or dare, not for your crowd anyway.

It had started simple. "Which one of us had the best glow-up this year?" "I dare you to text the last guy you slept with." "What's the kinkiest thing you've done with somebody?" "I dare you to show us the last nude someone sent you." Typical borderline adolescent challenges, things you all still followed through with despite being too old for the game - it's the principle of it, to indulge and pretend, if only for a little while, that life is as simple as it once was.

"Who's the last person you had a sex dream about?"

You'd twisted your hands awkwardly in your lap, felt heat rush to the apples of your cheeks. Usually a question like this wouldn't make you hesitate, but the subject of the answer had been a slightly embarrassing one. As soon as the name Joel Miller had fallen from your lips, you'd been met with screams and squeals and excited chatter from every direction.

"He's so fucking creepy though," one of your friends had said with wide eyes, palm over her mouth, "He gives off serial killer vibes."

"Oh please, he's not that bad," another had chimed in, "He's just a loner, kinda mysterious. I see the vision."

"Are we forgetting the part where he's old as hell? Dude must be in his fifties, at least."

"But that means experience."

"It could also mean limp dick."

"You guys are disgusting," you'd moaned, leaning back on your hands, "It was one dream, let's move on."

And they had. Briefly. Until it was once again your turn and they'd all rounded on you with cheshire cat grins and glinting stares. You should have known what was coming when you chose Dare.

"I dare you to go over to his house."

You'd resisted, of course. The dare itself didn't even make much sense; what were you meant to do? Go over and ding-dong-ditch his front door like a twelve year old boy? But it had only snowballed from there, all five girls tossing in their own thoughts and ideas, talking and giggling over each other. "She should ask him on a date." "She should just flirt a little bit, see how he reacts." "She could see how far she can get with him, maybe?" "Oh shit, that's good."

You could have always said no - there was no way any of them could force you to do it, even if it would have ended the party abruptly with grumbled complaints and a slammed door. But the more they talked the more you found yourself listening, letting the concept sink in, the images of the dream you'd had the other night flooding to the front of your mind. Mysterious and elusive Joel Miller, big hands covered in the motor oil he uses to tinker with his truck, trailing his messy fingers between the swells of your breasts...

They'd managed to convince you just by the reminder alone, though also due to the fact that they'd each tossed in a twenty dollar bill and stated that simply getting a kiss on the cheek would warrant a win. The prospect was intriguing; it would be a testament to your own desirability, your game. How far can you get with your quiet neighbor who probably hasn't touched a woman in years? Who'll probably fold the second he realizes someone as young and beautiful as you is interested in him?

"I'll do it," you'd said with a smirk, rising from the hardwood, "How hard can it be?"

Harder than you thought, apparently. Because now you stand a few feet from Joel Miller's house, loitering soundlessly at the edge of his front lawn, hesitating. The sun has gone down, turning the hedges along the side of his property into frighteningly tall shadows, dark and menacing. A light breeze flows past and you wrap yourself tighter in your well-worn maroon cardigan, shivering, staring at your boots and wondering if you can really bring yourself to do this.

It'll be so humiliating if he rejects your advances. On the other hand, will it somehow be less-so if he returns your flirtatiousness and you then have to reject him once you've gotten what you came for? How will that make you look? You're not even really sure why you care - probably because the man has done nothing to you whatsoever, nothing that would warrant such a foolish prank as this being played on him. It makes you feel bad, in a way. As much as you and your friends make fun of him, he really is just a man who keeps to himself - perhaps this is going too far.

You notice light flickering nearby, a reflection of fluorescents in the puddles of his driveway. You figured he'd be in his garage - it's where he spends most of his time, bent over the exposed hood of the truck he's seemingly been working on ever since he moved in at the beginning of the summer. You've never seen him drive it, never even seen him leave the property, but you've passed by the house on more than one occasion. You've seen the way he rolls up the sleeves of his flannel, forearms splattered black and grey, expression focused on the task at hand while sweat drips from his greying temples.

Having a sex dream about him really shouldn't have been that shocking, now that you think about it. The man is a mystery, sure, but he isn't ugly by any means.

You swallow down your qualms, picturing the faces of your friends more than likely smooshed against the living room window a few houses back, watching. As soon as you turn the corner, you'll disappear from view, obstructed by the hedges and the sudden darkness of night. You take one more deep breath, one last burst of chilly evening air into your lungs, and accept your fate.

He doesn't notice you walking up his driveway, taking slow and meager steps as you assess the open garage, the truck with its hood popped as usual, the flickering of the florescent lights hanging from the ceiling. He doesn't notice you, but you notice him. You spot a pair of steel toed boots and long denim clad legs sticking out from underneath the truck, hear the clink and clang of metal against metal while he tinkers with something down there, unseen. As you reach the garage it becomes apparent that you still have one last chance to end this before it begins, turn around and take the loss.

But you don't.

"Excuse me," you offer in a weak voice, teetering nervously at the edge of the garage door, neither inside nor out - neutral ground.

The clinking stops, replaced by the steady pounding of your heart in your chest, the heaviness of your breathing. You try to loosen your hands from their fisted forms and unclench your fingers, focusing on the stretch of flesh and bone while the legs beneath the car slowly begin to inch forward. He's not laying on any type of support, one of those wheeled contraptions you've seen other people use - no, he's simply got his back to the ground, a back and body that's slowly coming into view.

His black and green flannel rides up where he's been laying on it, as well as the grey t-shirt he wears beneath; as he slides out from under the car you spot a bare sliver of skin just above his waistband, a patch of hair that trails down into his jeans. A lump forms in your throat. When he finally peeks his head out, you swallow around it and try to remember to breathe.

Greying hair slicked back behind his ears, cheekbones smeared slightly with something black, scruff lining a strong yet soft jawline, a plump bottom lip, and those eyes... dark brown, almost black. It's the face that's practically been haunting you all summer, whether you want to admit it to yourself or not.

His brow furrows as soon as he sees you, "Can I help you?"

It's not the first time you've heard him talk, but it's certainly the first time he's ever spoken directly to you. His accent is stronger than you remember, words slipping smoothly past his lips like butter as he eyes you from the floor of his garage, knees up, hands still hidden in the darkness. A few seconds pass before you realize he's asked you a question.

"Oh, um-" You haven't thought this through very far, that's for sure. What the fuck do you even say? You take a breath and remind yourself that you're good at this, have seduced your fair share of frat boys in the past two years with minimal effort and have never heard the word no. Sure, Joel Miller isn't a frat boy - far from it - but underneath his cold exterior he's still very much a man, and very much capable of falling under the spell of a beautiful woman. You hope, anyway.

"I was just taking a walk," you lie, "Saw your light on, thought I'd come say hi."

He stares at you blankly, like he's unsure exactly how he's supposed to respond - or perhaps he's already seeing through your façade. You take a step into his garage, poised at the edge as you lean casually against the opening.

"Honestly, um-" you push some hair behind your ear and attempt to look shy, though it's not a huge jump from how you're actually feeling, "I've been meaning to talk to you, before I go back to college."

At your words he raises an eyebrow and slowly brings his hands downwards, palms pressing flat against the dark concrete. You watch as he eases himself up and out from under the truck, and god he's tall - tall and broad and huge compared to you, a fact that sends a little flutter into your belly. He takes a step toward the work bench against the wall, eyes still on you as he reaches down and picks up a rag to wipe his hands, big and wide and streaked with oil. You remember your dream and feel a twinge in your underwear.

"Talk to me about what?" he asks, massaging the rag against his fingers.

You shrug as nonchalantly as you can, taking another step inside his garage, closer to where he stands at the work bench. You cross your legs in an attempt to show them off, stretching your ankle toward a spare tire on the floor and accentuating the sheerness of your black tights, the little run that splits the material at the inside of your knee, the hint of bare skin that peeks out beneath.

"Nothing in particular," you say, keeping your voice soft and steady but doing your best to keep that shy girlishness present, "Just... wanted to." You peer up at him from under your lashes and bite your lip, then reach out your hand for him to take. You say your name.

He assesses your hand but doesn't take it, brow still furrowed. "Joel," he replies, "And I'm a bit preoccupied at the moment. Don't really have time to talk." His voice is cold and gruff, absolutely no sign of interest or attraction - dammit.

"What're you doing?" you ask, tilting your head.

He continues to stare at you blankly, "What does it look like I'm doin'?"

Okaaaay, then.

You shrug again and take another step, turning to look at the wall next to you. Tools line the shelves, wrenches and screwdrivers and the like dangling rather precariously here and there, smeared in motor oil and dust. It's a mess but you'd be willing to bet that it's organized chaos, that he likes it this way.

"What's this?" you ask, pointing to a particularly large object, something that looks like a mixture between a pair of scissors and a wrench.

"Bolt cutters," he supplies you monotonously.

"Ohh," you say with a nod, leaning a bit into the confused pretty girl stereotype and hoping maybe he's a sucker for it, "And what's that?" You point toward a small cylindrical object, black and tactical, only a few inches long.

"You never seen a flashlight before?"

Oh. Right. "Woops," you giggle, "Sorry."

You turn your face to look at him sheepishly and he's still watching you, big arms now crossed against his broad chest - impatient. Well, this is clearly not working either. He's frowning, eyes so focused on your face that you feel almost naked beneath it, like he's staring into your soul. You clear your throat awkwardly and tug your bottom lip between your teeth, breaking your own gaze away from him and trying to find something else to comment on.

"So you've been working on your truck," you state, gesturing toward the vehicle as if only just noticing it was even there, "What's - uh - what's wrong with it?"

He's clearly not buying into whatever the fuck you're even trying to sell. He remains silent, eyes still on you, and suddenly it's like you've never even interacted with a man before - and to be honest, maybe you haven't. Frat boys are certainly not men by any means, and nowhere near in the same league as Joel Miller by a long shot, probably almost triple their age with a dark and mysterious aura that feels almost suffocating. He just stares at you, slightly unnerving, but also seductive in its own way, almost like he's challenging you.

"What do you want?" he asks blankly.

"I-I told you," your voice is already faltering, losing its flirtatious edge the more you realize how dumb of an idea this was, "I just wanted to talk to you."

"Yeah, I got that," he says stiffly, "Why?"

You've already exhausted the avenues you thought might work, which means you've got one last chance before he sends you packing. With bated breath you take the final few steps toward him and - averting your gaze - you reach your hand out to touch his forearm with your fingertips. It's feather light, but you're suddenly very aware of the goosebumps that rise on his freckled flesh, the way the thick hair on his arms seems to stand on end the second your skin touches his. Okay, now we're getting somewhere.

"I think you're handsome," you murmur softly, feeling warmth rush to your cheeks when you realize that it's not a lie. And it really isn't. As your gaze gradually tilts up you catch a glimpse of the hair on his chest, peeking out from under his grey t-shirt. You spot his pecs beneath the fabric of his flannel, see the throbbing veins in his neck, the coarseness of his scruff, the sharp curve of his nose, and those fucking eyes - looking at you with a darkness, a lust, that wasn't there before.

He's not just handsome; he's fucking gorgeous.

"What're you doin'?" he asks you, that gruffness still present but being taken over by something else, something darker.

"Nothing," you breathe, still trailing your fingers along his forearm until they reach its apex and dip into the soft part behind his elbow, damp with sweat. You swallow, throat going dry as you stroke his skin with your thumb.

"Doesn't feel like nothin'," his voice is quieter, matching yours, and he tilts his head slightly as he continues to stare into your eyes, "Why're you really here, sweetheart?"

Sweetheart. The word sends a burst of warmth to your chest, a smile to your lips. You unlock your eyes from his bashfully, watching your own movements as you trail your fingers back down toward his hand and wrap them around one of his fingers, so thick compared to your own. You squeeze gently, biting your lip again as you peer back up at him. Here it is. Moment of truth. You tilt your head up slightly, eyelashes fluttering as you lean forward to connect your lips with his.

Except, they don't connect.

Instead he pulls his hands away from you, brings them upwards and wraps them around your upper arms, squeezing tightly. Your eyes widen, confusion flooding your features.

"Turn around and bend over."

"W-what?" Shock doesn't even begin to describe the ice cold feeling that now makes its way through your body, edged with something else - something you can't explain.

"Turn around," he repeats, his big hands squeezing your arms even tighter - relentless, firm - as he peers down at you with a dark hunger in his eyes, glinting black beneath the fluorescents, "And bend over."

He does not give you another chance to obey - you're too frozen in surprise and confusion to do anything yourself. Instead, he uses the force of his weight on your arms to spin you on the spot, shoving you against the work bench. You feel one of his hands move from your arm to your back, pushing hard until you fold, warm cheek coming to rest against the cold wood.

"Wh-what are you doing?" your voice is meager, weak, and you feel him wrap one of his hands around both your wrists like it's nothing, pinning them against your back like they're simply twigs in his wide palm.

"What you're clearly fuckin' beggin' for," he replies gruffly, and you feel his other hand at your skirt, feel the brush of his fingertips at the hem as he reaches upward to grip the band of your tights. Your eyes widen and instinctively you pull back, pull away - he just pushes you back down.

"I'm not-" you begin, shock quickly being replaced with fear when you realize how easily overpowered you are, how fluidly he's able to tug down your tights and expose your ass to him, clad in only a black thong already lost between your cheeks.

"Oh, you're not, huh?" his voice is cold and stoic, angry, "You think you can play games with me, little girl?" His hand comes to rest against the swell of your behind and you suddenly feel his breath above you, hot in your ear, "Tell me why you're really here."

You try to lift your head up to look at him better but he just shoves you back down again. Panic floods your body, mixed with the unmistakable burn of arousal. You feel yourself twitch in your underwear, feel a sudden gush of warmth spill inside the fabric as he begins to trail his finger up and down the thin line of black cotton.

"I-I'm..." You're at a complete loss for words, unable to articulate anything, unsure of what exactly is happening - or about to happen. Two minutes ago you'd been sure he was about to tell you to leave, practically kick you out of the garage himself, and now you're not sure leaving is even a possibility.

He pulls his hand back and you cry out when it comes down to slap against one of your cheeks, a sharp sting and burn you hadn't been anticipating.

"Tell me why you're here," he repeats - authoritarian, firm.

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out except a frightened squeak, something which clearly eggs him on even more. He spanks you again, harder this time, palm flat and wide against your pebbled flesh. The sound that slips past your lips is somehow akin to a moan of some sort, guttural and deep.

"I'll just make it harder and harder, sweetheart," he says then, and the pet name no longer contains the warmth it did mere moments ago; instead it's cold and detached, mocking. You're still reeling when his hand comes down to slap against you again, even harder this time, and your hands ball into fists behind your back as you let out another low moan. More slick gushes into your panties and it's impossible to deny that somehow, despite the fear twinging in your heart, you're so fucking turned on.

"M-my friends," you gasp out, and you feel him squeeze your abused ass cheek which you're sure is already dark with his handprint, "They- they dared me to see how far I c-could get with you."

He lets your words sink in for a moment, squeezing again - tighter, so tight that it hurts. You whimper against the wooden top of the work bench, legs shaking.

"So you came here to get fucked," he finally states.

"N-no, I swear, I-"

"Wasn't a question," he interrupts, and you feel his other hand tighten around your wrists, "You came here to get fucked so you're gonna get fucked, end of story."

"But I-"

Without any warning he suddenly pushes himself up against you from behind, the rough denim of his jeans pressing deliciously up against your exposed skin. You gasp, eyes going wide when you feel the long, thick shape of his dick between your cheeks, huge and hard. He holds it there, his free hand coming down to lay flat beside your head against the work bench.

"You feel that?" he asks, voice suddenly quieter but still full of that ice cold malice, "You feel that cock?"

Fuck. "Y-yes," you breathe, "I feel it."

"You have five seconds before i close this door and stuff you full, understand?" Suddenly all you can hear is the heavy sound of his breathing, the panting of your own, the thud of your heart where it presses painfully against the wood. He's giving you an out.

"I- I-" you swallow, brows furrowing when you feel his hand slacken around your wrists. You could pull away now, yank yourself out of his grasp and sprint down his driveway, return to your friends. Forget this ever even happened.

It's your last chance.

"Five," he begins, breath warm against your face.

Run. Just run.

"Four."

But why?

"Three."

Why don't you want to run?

"Two."

Why do you want to stay?

"One."

He pulls his hand up from the work bench and hits a button on the wall, eliciting a loud mechanical noise to your left as the garage door starts to close. You watch with wide eyes as your chance to leave slowly vanishes inch by inch until it's gone completely, and yet no part of you itches to run, to escape. There's nothing to escape from, you realize. You want to be here. You want him to fuck you.

As the reality of your situation starts to settle, his grip around your wrists tightens once again. You sense him reaching up somewhere above you, and you suddenly feel the harsh texture of what feels like thickly braided rope wrapping around your wrists. The realization that he's restraining you sends another pool of release into your panties, another faint squeak past your lips.

"You gonna stay still for me?" he asks, voice dark and clearer now in the silence of his garage, no sounds of rain or cars to disrupt you, "Huh? You gonna be a good girl?"

"Yes," you breathe, nodding against the wood.

"Say it."

"I'm gonna stay still," you promise, "I'm gonna be a good girl."

He finishes knotting the rope around your wrists, tight and uncomfortable against your skin. He pushes his groin up against your ass again, brings his now free hands downward to reach through your cardigan and squeeze your breasts. Your nipples are hard beneath the soft cotton of your shirt, no bra between the layer of material and your bare skin; he tweaks them in his fingers and you shudder.

"These are mine," he whispers in your ear, scruff nuzzling against the side of your face, "These tits, this ass," he drops his hands from your breasts to squeeze your cheeks again, "and this pussy." His hand drops to the puffy shape of your lips beneath your thong and you whimper. "Understand?"

"Y-yes."

"Yes, what?"

You're not sure what he's asking for, what he wants you to say. You take a guess. "Yes, sir," you whisper, and you feel him smile against your ear. Bingo.

He doesn't bother to pull your tights down the rest of the way; instead, he rips them, pulling them apart in his big hands and reaching inside to curl his index finger around the thin strip of your thong. He pulls it - hard - and it rips from you with a rough tearing sound and a painful sting, eliciting a loud gasp from you which he rewards with another spank.

You feel his finger slip between your lips for a moment, gathering some of your release before he pulls it away. "Juicy fuckin' pussy," he mutters, and you hear the sound of his zipper coming undone, vulgar in the quiet room. You have no time to ask about protection, no time to even really process how quickly this is already happening, before you feel the warm tip of his cock pushing against your twitching hole. You gasp again, hands furling under the ropes.

"Shh," he quiets you, stilling for a second, "Don't squirm."

"Sorry," you whisper, tears pricking in your eyes, "I'm sorry."

"What're you sorry for?" he murmurs, feeding his cock to you in small increments, reveling in the noises falling past your lips. It's so fucking big, bigger than you'd anticipated - it feels like he's spearing you, splitting you in half, especially without much preparation. It stretches and burns, but the warmth of it, the way it pulses as it invades your body, just makes you gush even more. "Hm?" he continues, "What're you sorry for? You sorry for squirmin' or sorry you pissed me off?"

Your eyes roll back as he bottoms out, his pubic hair pressing coarsely against your pussy lips, heavy balls firm to your ass. You try to speak but it's hard to get the words out when you're so full, the wide tip of him pushing into your cervix.

"You a virgin?" he asks you then, voice changing for a moment, like for the briefest of seconds he's wondering whether he should have gone slower.

You shake your head quickly, "N-no," you manage to gasp out.

"Feel like a fuckin' virgin," he grunts, pulling out and then immediately slamming back inside. Your head bumps against the work bench, a groan falling from your mouth as he makes a home inside you. "Christ," he mutters, "Tight little thing. You feel me in your stomach, baby?"

You're not sure he wants you to answer, but it becomes clear when his hand slaps down on your ass cheek again and you cry out.

"Yes," you moan, then quickly amend, "Yes, sir."

"S'what happens when you come in here, actin' like a little slut," he suddenly reaches for your cardigan and yanks it off - it catches on your restrained hands and he simply rips it and tosses it to the floor, "But then again, you're not actin', are you? Huh? What's a slut like you doin' wearin' all these fuckin' layers?"

"I'm s-sorry," you repeat, already mourning the loss of your favorite sweater, now ripped to shreds at your feet.

"Sorry's not good enough, little girl," he breathes, thrusting into you again so hard that you yelp, cheek still pressed into the splintered wood of the work bench, "That's it, fuckin' take it."

He fucks you without any reservations, any inhibitions. Your legs shake and you can hear the slap of his hairy thighs against yours as he pounds into you relentlessly. You have no choice but to take it, the stretch of his huge cock becoming less painful the more he gives it to you over and over, the room full of the wet squelch of your pussy gripping him. He grabs your hips, fingertips digging into your bare flesh as he takes and takes; you wish you could see his face, wish you could see how he looks when he's fucking you, getting his pleasure. The thought makes you whine, tears streaming down your face as your body moves back and forth against the work bench.

It feels fucking amazing. You've never had a cock as big as his before, never been fucked so deep and so hard, like he doesn't care if he breaks you, makes you cry. He hasn't touched your clit and yet you already feel you could come from just this, just the relentless push and pull of his dick inside you. Unfortunately, just as soon as you feel your orgasm starting to build, he pulls out. Your brow furrows.

"Stand up," he orders, "and turn around."

You obey, relief overtaking you as soon as you're no longer bent at such an awkward angle. The moment you turn to face him you barely get a look at his face before he's reaching down and tearing your shirt in half - easily, like it's nothing. You don't even have time to wonder how the hell you're gonna get home with all your clothes ripped to shreds when his mouth is suddenly wrapped around your left nipple, and you whine at the sensation. You peer down at him, biting your lip and watching his wet lips suckle around the hard bud, beard scratching deliciously against your skin. Your hand aches to cup the back of his head but it's still pinned behind your back, tied tight beneath the rope.

"Fuck," you whimper, and his dark gaze flashes up to meet yours as he sucks, the hint of a smirk on his lips when he pulls away.

"Feels good, does it?" he asks, and seeing the words come out of his mouth is somehow more sinful than when you could only hear them, "You like bein' used?"

You nod almost immediately despite never having experienced anything like this in your life - though admittedly you've undeniably wanted to experience this, ached to have somebody take control, tell you what to do, make you do things. It's like you've somehow known subconsciously all summer that Joel Miller could be that person for you, despite never having said two words to him. It was just a feeling, an instinct, and that dream...

"Yeah?" he continues, and suddenly his hand comes up to cup your pussy, thumb finally pressing against your clit. You cry out, tears still trickling down your cheeks. "Said you were in college, right? You take any college dick up here? Be honest now."

You nod again, "Y-yes."

"How many?"

"I... I don't know," you breathe. It's the truth, and you can tell as soon as the words leave your mouth that it does something to him. He presses his thumb harder against your clit, two fingers slipping up inside of you.

"'Course you don't know," he murmurs, pushing them as deep inside as he can, making you whimper, "You wouldn't know, would you?"

Your thighs tighten together - squeezing his hand - and he just smirks again, curving his fingers and making you moan. Your lower back digs into the work bench as he stands, pushes you up against it and peers down into your eyes again with a hunger that's only getting worse. You assess his expression, the pout of his lips as he fucks you with his fingers, the focused lines creased into his forehead. So fucking handsome.

"You're not a good girl," he breathes, nose brushing yours, "Knew it from the day I saw you. You're just made for takin' cock. Am I right?"

"Yes," you whisper, nodding shakily and bumping your lips up toward his - he pulls away again and you can't help but feel disappointed, aching to feel his lips against yours.

"Tonight you're made to take my cock, that clear?" he continues, and you watch as his other hand travels downward to wrap around it - just out of your periphery. He's too close to you, crowded so much in your space that you know he won't like it if you break eye contact. You can tell by his arm movements that he's pumping himself at the same speed he's fucking you with his fingers, inhaling deeply, "I'm gonna ruin you, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not."

"Y-yes sir," you whisper, voice squeaking when he speeds up his fingers and pumps them in and out with fervor, thumb rubbing furiously against your clit. Yet again he brings you almost to the edge and then removes his hand completely, stepping back with a low chuckle when you whimper pathetically.

Your disappointment only lasts a moment because now you can see him, see the girthy length of him that's already been inside of you hanging out of his zipper, glistening with your slick. He's huge, tip dark and intrusive, beads of his own arousal dripping from the slit; your mouth waters. His eyes cast down to where you're looking and he smiles, dark and mocking.

"Never gonna see another dick like this, darlin'," he breathes, "So you better start showin' your appreciation." His eyes glint. "Kneel."

You're practically already on your way to kneeling before he says it, in awe of the sheer girth and shape of him. The second your bare knees hit the cold floor he's crowding you again, hand coming around to hold the back of your head.

"Open wide, baby," he murmurs.

Your jaw drops and he plunges inside your mouth quickly and seamlessly, making you gasp around his length as your eyes widen. You can't breathe, looking up at him with more tears already fogging your vision as he immediately slips into the depths of your throat with no hesitation. You gag, eyes bulging as you attempt to swallow around the intrusion, find your breath, but it's impossible.

"Yeah," he breathes, both of his hands cradling your face and holding you still as he lets his cock sit unmoving in your throat, "Yeah, that's it. That's what you're made for."

He only holds it there for a few seconds but by the time he pulls it out you're gasping for air, coughing and spluttering as tears stream relentlessly down your cheeks. He keeps cradling your face, tuts to himself as you try to get your breath back. The head of his cock bumps softly against your bottom lip.

"Not off to a great start, are we?" he murmurs, "Let's try again."

He pushes his cock past your lips again and you try your hardest not to gag, a little more prepared this time. The pulsing head of his cock situates itself firmly in your throat, the pubic hair at the base tickling your nose while his balls bounce against your chin. You look up at him with pleading eyes, watch as he stares down at you with nothing but malice in his expression, contempt. You're just a hole to him, nothing more.

He pulls out and lets you gasp another breath before he's shoving himself back in, hands moving back to hold your head firmly as he fucks your face. You don't move - you don't need to; he does all the work as he drags your head back and forth along his cock, hitting the back of your throat over and over again until you're gagging and practically sobbing for air. Your knees ache against the concrete floor and you know you'll have bruises tomorrow, know that you probably won't be able to swallow properly for a few days either. Somehow, you don't really care.

When he's gotten his fill he yanks himself out and allows you to catch your breath for a few seconds, throat constricting around nothing while you choke and gasp.

"Stand up," he orders, and even though you're still gasping for air you manage to bring yourself back up, legs shaking. Saliva drips down your chin, drooling from your mouth in long strands, but with your hands tied you can't make any attempt to clean yourself up - he probably wouldn't want you to anyway.

His wide palms are suddenly on your hips, and he picks you up and places you on top of the work bench with minimal effort, arms bulging. You're completely naked now save for your ripped tights while he's still fully clothed, dripping cock still peeking out past his zipper, covered in your saliva. He steps between your legs and pushes your thighs open, then slips inside of you once again in one short push, making you yelp.

"Oh, please," he grumbles, gripping your hips tightly and pulling your bare body taut against him, head hitting his chest, "We both know you can take it."

It's not like you have any other choice at this point. He fucks you harder than he had before, now that he has easier access, can pull you so firmly against him that his entire length is continuously swallowed up entirely by your dripping pussy. His nails dig into your skin as his cock fucks up against your cervix over and over, so relentless it's almost painful. It's overwhelming how huge he is, not just his cock but his body in general, the way he towers over you and watches your expressions as he takes what's now his.

"Poor little thing," he mumbles, bringing one of his hands up to thumb the tears on your face, "Never been so full, huh? It's okay, shhh," his finger finds your lips and pushes against them almost mockingly, like he's chastising you, "Shhh, this is what you asked for, remember? S'what you wanted." You shake your head but he just nods, "Yeah, it is. You wanted that cock and now you're gettin' it."

Suddenly you're being lifted from the workbench, carried in his embrace with his cock still buried deep inside. You cry out, wrists straining against the ropes, itching to wrap your arms around his neck and hold yourself up with more stability. His arms come up to stretch along the expanse of your back, holding you still and pulling you even closer. As if on instinct your legs bend upwards to wrap around his waist, curling around his lower back while he pistons inside of you without restraint, without mercy.

"Fuck," you almost scream, feeling the rough denim of his jeans scratching against your ass, the heaviness of his balls slapping against you over and over again, "Fuckfuckfuck!"

"Yeah, there she is, there's that little slut," he says, a smile spreading across his face, voice somehow calm despite the fact that he's pounding into you over and over, "Nothin' like gettin' fucked stupid to sort ya out, huh? Needed to be punished, didn't you, sweetheart?"

You don't answer, can't answer, eyes rolling back as he fucks you with abandon. Of course it's not a surprise when he lands a hard spank against your ass, grips your cheek tightly in his palm and growls roughly in your ear, "Answer me, little girl."

"Yes," you force yourself to gasp out, head tilting back, "Yes sir, yes."

"S'right," he mutters, and you suddenly feel the pads of his fingers against your clit, rubbing at an aggressively fast pace that sends depraved noises spitting past your lips, "Come on that cock, tighten up that little pussy even more for me, baby, come on."

It only takes seconds for him to make you come, your eyes rolling back as your body shakes and writhes in his grasp. He doesn't slow his movements, keeps fucking you deep and hard as your legs loosen at his waist and you flop like a ragdoll in his arms.

"Chokin' that dick," he murmurs, "Had so many cocks in this little hole and you're still the tightest thing I've fucked," his brow furrows as he watches your face, watches as your eyes flutter open and your jaw slackens, "And what about your other hole, baby?" You feel one of his fingers prod against your asshole, circle the rim as he continues to bounce you up and down, "Ever had a cock in there?"

You tense up a little in his embrace, eyes widening. At your reaction he slows his movements, still holding you upright and allowing you to just sit on his cock for a moment while he continues to prod your asshole, "I'll take that as a no," he mutters, "Think my cock'll fit up there?"

"It won't," you whisper immediately, shaking your head.

He assesses your expression, eyes trailing up and down your face calculatingly, like he's weighing the pros and cons. Your heart stutters in your chest and you feel that fear from earlier slowly begin to creep back into your psyche, hands shaking under the rope.

"I won't," he states, and relief floods through your body; you relax in his embrace, becoming aware again of his cock still buried deep inside you. He very carefully prods the tip of his index finger inside your asshole and your eyes go wide again, mouth opening in protest. "Yet," he amends, smiling coldly at you, "I won't yet. Not today."

He pulls his finger out and walks with you to the work bench again, places you down gentler than before and peers at you with something in his gaze that you can't place, a curiosity that wasn't there before. It's gone in an instant though, and then he's fucking into you again without warning, gripping tight to your hips and slamming back and forth until you see stars.

"You thought this'd be so funny, didn't you?" he growls, looking at you again with that detached contempt, black eyes locked with yours. He brings his hand down and starts rubbing your clit again, not caring that you only just came a moment ago. "Thought you'd come here, have your fun, and leave again. But it's not so funny anymore, is it? Huh? Is it funny?"

"N-no," you gasp out, overstimulated to the point of even more tears as you squirm and writhe on the work bench, pussy aching from the insistent way he's pounding you and the relentless rubbing of his fingers against your clit.

"S'the last time you show up here tellin' lies," he mutters, "Understand me? Any time you come into my house from now on you're gettin' fucked, got it?"

"Y-yes," you cry, hands futilely attempting to ball into fists behind your back, and he shakes his head.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir!" you scream it, and just as the words pass your lips he stills inside of you, cock twitching as he starts to come. Your eyes go wide, mouth dropping open as his hand sends you into another climax just as he reaches his. Your head falls against his chest and you hear him groan above you, feel the way his cock pulsates and throbs and spits his cum in long and heavy spurts. Your thighs twitch and you feel his hand at your back, pulling you in close as he cups the back of your head.

You stay like that for a moment without speaking, your heavy breaths the only sound in the garage other than the rain now pelting heavily against the door. You swear you can hear his heartbeat.

"Good little girl, warmin' my cock," he murmurs in your ear, and you're still catching your breath, eyes closed, sobs wracking from your throat repeatedly. "Full o'me, huh? You feel all that, baby?"

You can only nod against his chest, wrists still straining against the rope as your toes curl somewhere below you and your body continues to shake. His cum settles warmly deep inside and your eyes roll back a bit when he pushes in further, like he's trying to keep it inside for as long as he can.

"Guess I found a new little cum dumpster, huh?" he whispers, carding his fingers through your hair, "I'll have to say thank you to your friends, or -" he pauses thoughtfully for a moment, "maybe I'll just have to send 'em a little message back with you."

You pull your face back from his chest, peering up at him with tired confusion. He reaches down and pulls out one of the drawers of the work bench, coming back up with a sharpie. You watch with fluttering lashes, unable to stop him - and not really wanting to - as he uncaps the marker and pushes your hair out of the way to write something across your chest, the cold tip making you jolt slightly.

"Shh," he murmurs, "It's okay, I'll untie ya in a sec."

It doesn't take him very long to finish writing whatever it is on your skin, and then he's slowly pulling his cock out of you. You whimper at the loss, thighs twitching as you peer down and watch his softening length slip past your hole, followed by a steady stream of his cum. He quickly reaches up and pushes what he can back inside, thumbing it back in carefully while the reality of what's just happened really begins to settle. You just let a man in his fifties tie you up, use you, come inside you, and write on your chest.

"Can't have all that slippin' out yet," he mutters, "Now, what can we use?" His eyes dart up to the shelves above you and he reaches up to grab something; when his hand comes back down you see the pocket flashlight from earlier, see the slightly flared base and know almost immediately what he's planning on using it for.

For some reason - whatever reason it is that you stayed here after he gave you an out, whatever reason you really came here in the first place - you don't protest.

He brings the flashlight downwards and quickly removes his hand from your pussy to replace it with the wide end, slipping it inside with only minimal resistance. You whimper and he hushes you, brushing his nose against yours as he assesses his handiwork.

"That should do it," he murmurs, then peers back up at you and pushes some stray hair out of your face "You keep that in there 'til you get home, okay?" His eyes have softened a bit, looking more similar to the way they did when you first showed up - is this the real him? You honestly have no idea.

You don't say anything, just nod slowly, feeling the anxiety from earlier begin to sink in yet again. How are you going to get home when you have no clothes? How are you going to explain to your friends what happened? How can you tell them - or show them - what you let him do to you?

These questions are clearly none of his concern. You watch as he backs up and gestures for you to stand with him; you do, with beyond shaky legs and the cold metal of the flashlight between your thighs.

"Turn around," he orders.

You feel him untie the rope from your wrists, essentially ending your time here - whatever it even was. It somehow doesn't feel real. You let them hang limply at your sides, feeling embarrassment flood your cheeks as you turn back around to look at him. He's watching you with a smirk, arms crossed - his dick is back in his jeans. He looks no different than he had when you arrived.

"Now get the fuck out," he says, dark eyes glinting once again under the flickering fluorescents, "before I change my mind."

The air is still chilly. The road is still wet. But thankfully, there are no cars.

You don't know how you manage to get home without anyone seeing you - hunched over, naked in the darkness, avoiding the streetlights, trying to ignore the ache between your legs and the icy intrusiveness of the flashlight still lodged inside of you - but you do. Your palms are sweaty again, heart pounding at the thought of your friends coming to greet you at the door, for the shock and confusion and screaming to begin - but that doesn't happen.

The moment you're back in the house you pull a jacket down from the coat rack and cover yourself, tiptoeing past the living room and waiting to be accosted by the friends who put you in this situation to begin with. Instead, they're nowhere to be seen. You hear the faint echo of laughter from the kitchen, hear the sounds of glass clattering and a fridge being shut. It's like they've already forgotten you even left, like the game meant nothing, and they've already found something new to entertain them, something better.

As if your futile attempt at getting a kiss on the cheek from Joel Miller is already something lost in the past.

And, you think, as you shakily climb the stairs and creep into the bathroom, tear the jacket from your shoulders and stare at your bare chest in the bathroom mirror, see the dark permanent lines that read TRUTH OR DARE...

Maybe that's how it should be.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #*

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theflowerrooms · 9 months

Note

i have a request (hopefully for some smut) 🙈 youve met Eddie because he was your exs dealer! You want to cop on your own but your shy and don’t know what your doing!

you lost your V card to your ex, and he was a selfish asshole to you, and Eddie could always tell

PLEASEEE and thank You 🥰

{to request} {Eddie’s masterlist} {main masterlist}

Treat you right

Eddie Munson x inexperienced!reader

Summary: you buy weed and smoke it with Eddie for the first time, he doesn’t know you but he knows your ex. He knows how bad he was and he knows how good he could be for you.

wordcount:

Warnings: drug use, smut, cursing, pet names, penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), praise, Eddie’s super sweet but also super cocky, dacryphilia, marking, slight dubcon? they’re both high

Thank you so much for requesting baby <3 I loved writing this sm

You exhaled shakily. Phone in one hand and a piece of paper with a number and Eddie’s last name written sloppily across it. You got lucky, your boyfriend- ex boyfriend Andrew left his dealer’s number on your bedside table. You’d met Eddie on multiple occasions, you really liked him. He was sweet, funny, respectful, incredibly charming. You reminded yourself that as you nervously dialled his number.

“Hello? Munson residence.” You heard his boyish voice from the other side of the line and already you were smiling to yourself.

“Hey Eddie, um, this is-” He cut you off. “I know who this is doll, I could never forget a voice as sweet as yours. What can I do for you?” He chimed and you giggled, blushing.

Andrew really sucked, he never spoke to you so sweet.

You chewed your lip as you tried to form a sentence in your head that wouldn't embarrass yourself. "Um- I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to say. I'd really like to buy from you, please." You spoke, careful with your words so you wouldn't sound like a complete idiot.

"Awe- y'calling for Andrew?" He asked, as if it wasn't obvious enough that you didn't know what you were doing.

"No- no, um, we broke up a little while ago he uh..." You trailed off, you didn't wanna over share and annoy Eddie. "He left your number at my house and I figured, y'know, I wanna buy some weed- please." You tried and failed to hold in your nervous giggle, you couldn't hear him smiling on the other side of the line at how cute he found you.

"Alright doll, tell you what. Since it's your first time buying from me I'll give you a pretty big discount, just let me know when you're free... and you can meet me, hm?" He offered, voice grainy through the phone.

You nodded, "Sure! I'm free whenever, um, where do you want me to meet you?"

✽-

The air was chillier than you'd expected, you suddenly regretted forgoing a jacket, and wearing a skirt. You tapped your nails softly against the picnic table where Eddie had asked to meet. You were a bit early, but you didn't mind waiting, and you definitely didn't want to leave him waiting, so you didn't mind sitting there.

You shivered, and then startled, squeaking as Eddie came up behind you, quiet as ever, and placed his jacket over your shoulders. You blushed and he grinned, rounding the table to sit across from you.

"Fancy seeing you here, sorry for spookin' you doll." His smile didn't leave his face. The metal of his lunchbox clanged as he put it between you two on the table before opening it. "So. Do you just want what I usually gave to you guys?" He asked, eyes kind and welcoming. You never understood the things you heard people say about Eddie, the things Andrew said about him behind his back.

"Um..." You trailed off, blushing again. Of course because you always went with your ex to buy weed from Eddie, he'd assumed you smoked it with Andrew. "How- how much did Andrew get usually?"

You tilted your head and he tilted his in return. "You didn't smoke with him?" He asked and you shook your head. "Have you smoked ever?" You shook your head again.

"Andrew never let me smoke his stuff. Told me if I wanted to smoke with him I had to find my own dealer, get my own weed." You chewed your lip anxiously as you explained. "And the only people I knew who sell it are you and Tommy Hagan. I don't trust Tommy so..." Eddie nodded, following along as you spoke.

"And you trust me?" He asked, a lilt of surprise in his tone. You nodded and he smiled. "Well. My van is parked just down that trail over there, let's get out of the cold, hm?"

✽-

You laughed loudly as Eddie tried, and failed to blow rings with the smoke he exhaled from his joint. You'd never been high before now, and you were loving it. Eddie coached you through it, showed you how to take a hit off of the joint, held it to your lips as you took your first inhale, then rubbing your back through the coughing fit it induced. He even let you drink his water when your throat grew dry.

Now you sat across from him in the back of his van leaning against the cool metal wall. Your laugh triggered Eddie's laugh and you both doubled over in an intense fit of giggles.

"I never understood why Andrew laughed so much when he got high." You giggled through your words, you understood now.

Eddie laughed in response. He coughed and reached out grabbing your ankle, "What uh- what happened with Andrew? Not that it's any of my business but uh- I don't know. I'm nosey." He laughed, straightening himself as he awaited your response.

You chuckled bitterly under your breath at the thought of your break up. "He sucked at sharing his weed but um, he was great at sharing his time, and his attention... his dick." You snickered and grimaced, watching Eddie's face match yours.

He scoffed and leaned his head against his shoulder. "That's awful. I'm sorry- what an idiot." He squeezed your ankle in his hand. "I don't see how he could ever hurt you like that... take you for granted like that." He sighed.

His words had you blushing. "Yeah well, it's okay, I'm mostly over it. I know that there are other guys out there- better guys." You made eye contact with Eddie for the first time that night, and suddenly the energy of the whole night changed.

He nodded slowly, mouth just slightly agape. You'd noticed how pretty Eddie was long before you and Andrew broke up. It was silent for a moment, Eddie's hand moved from your ankle to your calf, long fingers wrapping around the underside of it, thumb stroking your skin. "Yeah... there are plenty of guys out there who'll treat you better. You deserve to be treated right." He proclaimed, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. Your throat went dry.

Your legs relaxed, inching apart, calf resting fully in his hand. "I wanna be treated right." Your voice sounded so small and shy. You'd blame it on the weed.

Eddie's eyebrows rose slightly his pupils wide and eyes glossy. "Let me treat you right." His voice was both domineering and pleading all in one and it filled you with a blooming heat.

You couldn't find your words, just nodding eagerly, desperately. He didn't hesitate to move onto his knees, leaning over you and gently pulling you to meet his lips by your chin. His lips were warm against yours, you basked in it.

His tongue glided over your bottom lip, waiting for you to part your lips before he entered them. It was a beautiful contrast compared to how Andrew would just shove his tongue in your mouth before you were ready, or willing.

One of your hands rested on the back of Eddie's neck lightly, holding him close to you while your other hand gently stroked his jaw. His hands found refuge on your thighs, holding the backs of them gently as he maneuvered his way between them. He didn't grind against you or anything, just kissed you, with his thumbs dragging tenderly against the goosebump ridden skin of your legs that were pressing against his hips. He was only willing to go at your pace, which you appreciated.

He kissed you until your hips bucked up slightly, panty-covered clit bumping against the bulge in his jeans. The whimper you let out encouraged him to push his hips down to meet yours, he could feel your heat through the denim between you two.

With the feeling of him rubbing against you, your let your head fall back as you whined softly. The sweet sounds you let out had his cock throbbing, and he soon found himself mouthing at the sensitive skin at your neck. "It okay if I leave marks?" He asked, his voice was dark but his words were kind, and you knew he'd listen if you said no. You also knew that you'd let him do anything to you if he kept making you feel good like this.

"Yes-" and like that, you could feel him pull the skin below your pulse point past his lips, sucking there softly until he released your skin from his mouth and peppered kisses around it.

You sighed at the cool air on your slick skin, you sighed as he continued kissing down your neck, sucking another mark just above the collar of your shirt. You looked forward to seeing the bruises he'd leave behind.

You could feel his breath against your collarbone, his hands moving from your thighs to your waist, thumb playing with the hem of your shirt. Before he could even ask you to, you pulled back from him and pulled your shirt off.

He let out a heavy exhale as his eyes fell on your chest, his fingers twitching beside you. “You can take it off.” You spoke shyly, referring to your lace bralette. Your cheeks burned as you felt Eddie’s hand glide up your back, it only took a few seconds before you felt the clasp open and he was helping you remove your bra.

As your bralette fell to the floor of floor of his van next to your shirt, you heard Eddie’s breath hitch. “You are so damn beautiful.” Your heart was racing at his words, racing at how sincere he sounded. You weren’t used to this kind of attention and you were thriving from it

Quickly, Eddie’s tongue found your chest, flicking over your right nipple before he closed his lips around it, sucking softly. His fingers found your other nipple, gently pinching and rolling it until it hardened. The new sensation had your back arching, pushing yourself against him more. Eddie loved the noises you were making because of him, for him.

Eddie’s mouth left a trail of kisses from your breast and down your stomach. His bottom lip pressed against the band of your skirt and he held the fabric between his fingers. “Can I take this off of you darling?” He asked as he tugged lightly. You nodded your head but he didn’t move, “Words, baby.” He encouraged you to speak.

“Yes, please.” Your voice wavered with both nervousness and excitement. The eager smile on his face before he pulled your skirt down had your heart racing and your cunt throbbing.

When he pulled your skirt down, your panties came unexpectedly with them, you weren’t sure if it was intentional or not but neither you nor Eddie were complaining. What you really didn’t expect, was the audible moan Eddie let out at the sight of your naked body.

You began to sit up slightly, assuming Eddie would want you to ride him, but before you could get up all the way, Eddie was already laying between your legs, hands on your thighs. “What are you doing?” You asked softly and he tilted his head in confusion, tearing his eyes away from your cunt to meet your gaze.

He pressed a sweet kiss to your thigh. “I wanna taste you, that okay?” He asked, his eyes were blown out with lust, cheeks flushed red from arousal; still you knew he wouldn’t go any further if you told him it wasn’t okay.

“Taste me?” You asked, you weren’t sure what he meant. He smirked kindly, another kiss to your thigh. You were grateful he didn’t make you feel embarrassed for not knowing what that meant.

He inched closer to you, you could feel his breath against your opening and it made you dizzy. “I wanna taste your sweet pussy darling, make you feel good. I want you to cum on my mouth sweetheart.” He rasped, laying his head against your thigh. “What? Andrew never use his mouth on you pretty girl?” He was joking, but was both disappointed and pleased when you nodded your head, confirming his statement. He was disappointed that a gorgeous girl like you hasn’t experienced that before, but he was beyond pleased that he would be the first one to get to taste you. If he played his cards right, he’d be the only one.

You spread your legs for Eddie and relaxed back, his large palm squeezed your thighs as he held them open and immediately caught your clit in his mouth, sucking it gently, flicking his tongue over it, forcing moan after moan from your lips.

Andrew had never gone down on you before, despite the fact that you’d gone down on him every time he’d ask or even just every time you felt like making him feel good. He’d never return the favour however. You didn’t spend much time thinking about that- or any time at all. All you we’re capable of focusing on was Eddie and how good he made you feel.

Eddie thrusted his hips against the ground, sucking harder on your clit and moaning against it. Your thighs shook against your hand and you couldn’t speak. You wanted to tell him how good you felt, you wanted to let him know how good he was doing, but all you could manage was to moan and whine as you felt your stomach get tight.

He moved his hand off of your thigh and pushed two fingers inside of you slowly. There was a small stretch, but it didn’t hurt, if anything it felt fantastic.

He wanted to fuck you tonight, and so he’d make sure you were ready to take him, he didn’t want you hurting. Simultaneously, he sucked on your clit and pushed his fingers repeatedly against your g-spot. He revelled in the sensation of you clenching down on his fingers. He looked up at you from between your legs, your stomach flexing and your eyebrows pinched together as you moaned, his cock leaked precum into his boxers.

“Eddie-” you yelped his name, hips jumping and pressing down against his mouth. You could feel an impending orgasm, and you anticipated it with excitement. You’d never had an orgasm given to you by someone else.

He could feel you getting closer, he moaned loudly against your clit and you moaned even louder than him, yelling his name as you came. Your thighs shook and your hands found purchase in his hair, tugging lightly as your eyes teared up from searing hot pleasure.

Eddie rubbed your clit slowly as you came down from your orgasm. He moved up, peppering kisses over your cheeks until you came back to yourself, giggling. “I wanna see you, please.” You whispered, tugging lightly at his shirt.

He nodded, “Anything for you.” He had a sing-song tone that made you smile, and you watched hungrily as he pulled his shirt off. You didn’t have much time to admire his toned body, pretty tattoos, you were distracted almost immediately by the sound of his belt buckle.

Soon, you and Eddie were both naked in the back of his van, the windows of which were already growing steamy.

He leaned back over you and kissed you sloppily, hips slotting between your legs once again, only this time no clothes were separating you. “You gonna let me take care of you baby? Show you what it’s like to get fucked by someone who knows how to make a girl feel as good as she deserves?” He nudged his nose against yours, you were growing dizzy with lust and need for him.

You threw your head back as you felt the weight of Eddie’s cock slide against your soaking wet cunt. “Yes, please- please fuck me Eddie.” He loved the way your voice shook.

Within seconds, his balls were pressed flush against you, cock deep inside, you swore you could feel him in your stomach. He was both thicker and longer than Andrew, not by much, but still the difference was enough to have you sputtering.

“Oh god-” You moaned loudly, nails digging into Eddie’s shoulders as he began to fuck you.

He only laughed softly, “Close, it’s actually Eddie.” He teased, kissing your jaw as he hiked your legs up to rest on his hips as he fucked you harder, perfectly hitting your g-spot with every thrust.

You reached down to rub your clit but Eddie knocked your hand away with his own, rubbing it for you. He grinned wickedly at your broken moan, cock throbbing inside you at the sight of the thick tears pouring down your face. “Poor girl, so sweet and messy. Ever been fucked like this before? Andrew fuck you this good?” He asked.

You could only shake your head and cry for a moment before you found your words. “Never- never been fucked this good. You’re- you’re so g-good, Eddie.” You moaned, cunt clamping down on his cock.

Each of you were both growing closer, your hands and legs shaking, Eddie’s hips stuttered and his thrusts grew sloppy. His head fell down to your shoulder and you rested your cheek against his hair. “Cum inside me, p-please.” You whimpered.

He moaned in response, his orgasm hitting him like a freight train. The feeling of him cumming inside you and playing with your clit had you arching your back and screaming his name.

You both rested in the back of his van for a while, just holding each other. Heavy breathing, sweat slicked skin, and gentle kisses. “Thank you.” You whispered.

“Thank you.” He answered immediately. “I’m sorry he didn’t take care of you the way you deserve.” He kissed you again.

After you both got dressed again, you grew shy, and Eddie only found it endearing pulling the smile from you that he desperately wanted to see. “I’ll give you a ride home doll, ‘n when you need, or want anything, you give me a call.”

Of course you agreed, thanked him. And as he drove you home and you stared at him with hearts in his eyes, you were so grateful for Andrew. Grateful for him leaving Eddie’s number at your house.

#petalwrites #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #smut #eddie munson x inexperienced!reader #inexperienced!reader #dom!eddie munson

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mydearzero · 10 months

Text

Prey | Professor!Spencer Reid x Reader

MASTERLIST

PART 2

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: You were determined to stay collected and have your professor make the first move. To make him believe he's the one desperate for you. He's onto you though. He knows what you want, what you need. And he's going to give it to you.

Warnings: Professor!Spencer, fem!Reader, Teacher/student relationship, age gap, smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), NO Y/N, fingering, praise kink, degradation, dacryphilia, humiliation, semi-public sex, rough sex, creampie, choking, aftercare. If I missed any warnings please tell me!

3.9K words

Criminology wasn't the first class you'd voluntarily take. It was interesting enough, really. But not at all necessary for your degree.

You loved true crime as much as the next college-aged girl. That's what your excuse would be, at least, when people would inevitably ask why the hell you signed up for the class. But the real reason?

You'd seen him on campus a couple times, only a semester ago. His jagged yet put-together exterior intrigued you. His eyes met yours, if only for a split second. He was perceptive. Very perceptive.

The third time you saw him meeting with the dean, you knew you were hooked. You felt yourself mouth the syllables of his name. Heard the sound falling off your lips in a whispered tone as you overheard him introduce himself to the Criminal Law professor.

Doctor Spencer Reid.

You'd done your research, as any self-respecting student would. He was an FBI agent working for the Behavioral Analysis Unit. He was a proper genius with several degrees under his belt, even when he was your age.

He wasn't anymore, your age.

A notice got posted on the college's website a few days after your last sighting. Doctor Spencer Reid of the FBI would teach several seminars this semester, with voluntary attendance and limited availability.

You signed up in a heartbeat. You told yourself it was because he was an enigma, a puzzle for you to solve. His posture, eyes and even how he spoke screamed 'Solve me!' You, someone notorious for your ability to read people, couldn't figure him out. It frustrated you. Everything about him invited you to try and peel back the layers to let you see inside.

Were you maybe a tad too obsessed with the man without ever having spoken to him? Obviously, but you couldn't help yourself. You loved a good mystery. And this was one gorgeous mystery.

You tried to be deliberate about everything when you entered the first seminar. Don't spare the professor a second glance, but be genuinely interested. Don't hang off every word falling from his lips but raise your hand often enough to appear engaged. You wanted him to be the one to notice you first, even if it was anything but the truth.

But Professor Reid was a professor in his field for a good reason. He caught your calculated gaze a few times. Watched as you schooled your expression to perfection. Spencer had to admit, you were good. But he was better. He noticed how your stare dropped to his hands as he moved them while speaking. Noticed how the pattern of your breathing was unnatural. If his hearing was superhuman, he would've heard your heart beat irregularly.

You could seek control of the situation as much as you wanted, but your body would betray you time and time again. Spencer thrived in this little cat-and-mouse game you'd tried to set him up for. He knew you'd convinced yourself you were the cat, calculated, ready to pounce. He smiled to himself at the comparison. If only you knew you were the mouse in this situation, insignificant and small under his watchful eye. Something for him to feast on.

He'd seen you that day; the first time he was on campus. Captured your observant eye with amusement simmering in his mind. He knew who you were, and why you were here, the second you walked into the classroom. You'd tried to appear confident, sure of yourself, by walking to a spot near the front without sparing anybody around you a second glance. But Spencer saw it for what it was. A nervous but powerful stride of a girl begging for a grain of validation.

It had been brought to his attention that several girls in the class were only auditing, but not you. You were here for the real deal. You were committed to figuring him out. He could see it in the way your eyes raked over his body, reading his body language with every syllable spoken. You were genuinely interested in the subject matter, even if it was only to listen to him explain it.

He was flattered, really. Although your interest in the professor might've started as superficial as the other girls', he could see himself in the way you lost yourself in the infatuation. It wasn't just his looks that pulled you into his orbit. You were intrinsically aware of the grief, trauma and heartache he'd built up over the years. You were dying to be a part of the gravity that shaped him.

He could see how you had the power to mould people when you had your claws in them. Though, he wasn't sure it was a conscious ability you possessed. Maybe it was just who you were. You had a need for control in every sense of the word. And God, did he want to take it away from you.

If he didn't know any better, he'd be afraid you'd commit a string of murders if only it meant he would have to read into it. Consider every detail of the crime scene so he'd have to figure you out. It was admirable; your passion for complete dominance. But you couldn't fool Spencer.

He saw the way you crossed your arms, bit the skin on your lips until they bled, and picked at the skin around your nails, not quite bringing them up to your mouth to bite them, knowing it would convey insecurity. You were an insecure little girl, convincing yourself of the opposite.

Your need to understand him and domineer every situation was likely a defence mechanism, but he couldn't judge. Not when your little game got him right where you wanted him. Spencer had to applaud your dedication. The anticipation kept him on his toes every time he set foot on campus. He knew you wanted him to break, to make the first move, and he just might have to if he wanted to rid himself of the everlasting tension that seemed to have taken over his body.

Fine. Spencer would play your little game if that's what you wanted.

He saw you getting more confident, convinced he was falling into your trap the second he gave in. How the corners of your lips curled up ever so slightly when his gaze lingered on them. You were so caught up in your success that you failed to notice every action was premeditated on his part. It was only inevitable your eyes would light up with glee and triumph when he requested you to meet him in his office after class.

You knocked on his door tentatively, trying to slow your racing heart.

"Come in." Spencer's voice carried through the door. You turned the handle and stepped inside the dimly lit office.

"You wanted to see me, Professor Reid?" You spoke as your hand lingered on the door, a calculated move to come across as unsure. It was a complete 180 of your usual behaviour in class, but it was a surefire way to let him let you in. You were no threat.

If only you knew how true that was.

"Yes, close the door and have a seat, please." Spencer motioned to the chair across from him. You nodded and closed the door quietly before pulling the chair out and sitting down.

"I would like to discuss your paper with you if you don't mind." Spencer held up the printed copy he insisted everybody hand in. You scoffed when you read the specifications of the assignment. Figures he'd be old school.

"That's fine. Is there something wrong, Professor?" You batted your eyelashes the way you knew no man could resist. The act of the meek, helpless deer.

"There's nothing wrong with it, necessarily. I would simply like to discuss the subject matter with you. You sure picked an interesting topic." Spencer leaned against the back of his chair and interlocked his fingers as he saw you smile.

"What can I say? Your job intrigued me. Though, as I'm sure you could tell from my essay, I can't say I completely agree with the logic behind it." You gave him a small smile to let him know you weren't antagonising but stood behind your choices.

"Some critiques definitely can be taken into account. But it's been proven time and time again, with every case we solve through behavioural analysis, that the science and logic behind it work. Sure, we can be wrong, even way off. But it's a rare occasion." His eyebrows raised in challenge as he spoke. A small smile threatened to appear on his face as he awaited your answer.

You squinted at his apparent amusement. He wasn't taking you seriously. He knew he'd cracked you when your facade dropped. You looked genuinely offended at his lack of interest in your opinion. He almost wanted to laugh at how easy it turned out to be, to get you to drop the act.

"Don't look so smug, Professor. It's not a good look on you." You jabbed. You cursed at yourself. That wasn't an argument. You crossed your arms as you leaned back in the chair, never breaking eye contact.

"I must say, I'm kind of disappointed in you. You seemed to have a great grasp on the subject matter while in class, yet you failed one of the biggest requirements of the assignment."

You frowned at his words, genuinely confused. You egged him to continue talking.

"You see, the main requirement was to stay objective. This essay was anything but. I guess I misjudged you. I assumed you were above letting your personal opinions and vendettas get in the way of your academics. Apparently not." Spencer tsked. He was taunting you.

"How was my essay subjective?" You asked. The more you thought back to it, the more you realized how tainted the words on the pages in his hands were by your disdain for your attraction to him.

You hated him for making you feel the way you did, and you hadn't even realized it until now.

"I expected factual work. The only fact I can get from this essay is that you're driving yourself crazy with how much you want me to fuck you."

You gaped at his vulgar words.

Hook.

"Don't look so scandalized. You knew what you were getting into when you signed up for my class. You made your bed. Now lie in it." Spencer leaned forward and placed his elbows on his desk, crossing his fingers once again.

"I think you're full of shit, Spencer Reid." You sneered.

Line.

"I'm sure you do, sweetheart. And it's Doctor or Professor. I'm not picky." He had the gall to laugh.

"Profile me then, professor. If you're so damn sure of yourself." You rolled your eyes but looked at him expectantly.

Sinker.

"Stand up, lock the door." He instructed. You did as he asked with no rebuttal. He raised from his chair and walked around the desk. You followed him closely with your eyes, unable to predict his next steps.

He placed a singular finger under your chin and lifted it to make you look up at him. "Good girl." He whispered with intent. You tried to give no outward reaction to the words, but as Spencer had come to predict, your body betrayed you. Goosebumps raced down your crossed arms, and your breathing hitched, even if only slightly.

You didn't break eye contact, to Spencer's amusement. You really should've known better.

"You want me to profile you? Sure. In your essay, you kept mentioning speculation. But, you see, it's not speculation. It's deduction. You would've known and been able to differentiate the two if you weren't so busy rubbing your thighs and biting your lips in my class." His words were accompanied by his thumb coming up to your mouth, running it over the chewed-up skin of your bottom lip.

"You want to know what else I deduced just now?" He didn't wait for your reply as he brought his face closer to yours, leaning in to whisper in your ear.

"I think you like being called a good girl. But not because of the validation... No... It's the implication that turns you on." His breath scalded the delicate skin of your neck as he spoke.

You urged him to continue with your silence, breath stuck in your throat.

"You see, most girls like you like being called a good girl because they lack external male validation. They're desperate to hear those words from anyone. Not you, though... No..." Spencer laughed before continuing.

"You like it because it implies a level of authority. You love hearing it, especially from me, because it implies that I have the authority to decide for you what you are. And you wanna know what I think?" He leaned back a little to be able to look you in your wide eyes. He traced his finger over your jaw.

"I think you're a little whore. You don't want someone to validate you. You need someone to completely dominate you." He grabbed your chin forcefully. A soft whimper left your lips before you could stop it.

"Your pupils are dilated, your skin is flushed, and you're barely breathing. That's how I know I'm right. And I'm not speculating, darling." The alarmed look you gave him did nothing to deter him.

"Get on your knees." He demanded as he let go of your chin. You did so without question. You looked up at him expectantly, heart beating in your throat.

"Looks like I finally found a way to shut you up. Though, I can think of other ways. You're going to address me as 'Sir' from now on. You won't speak unless spoken to. Am I clear?"

You nodded quickly, spreading your legs to alleviate the pressure quickly building. Spencer raised an eyebrow before putting his shoe between your thighs, putting even more pressure than before.

"I asked. Am. I. Clear?"

"Yes!" You yelped. A smile that could only be described as devilish made itself apparent on your professor's face.

"Yes, what?" He asked as he pushed the point of his shoe further between your thighs.

"Yes, Sir." You all but moaned as you tried to hold yourself up, keeping your back as straight as it would allow you.

"Good girl." He said the riveting words.

You expected him to pull his pants down and force your mouth on him, but he did no such thing.

"You're gonna make yourself cum on my shoe. You better not make any noise." He instructed.

"Yes, Sir." You mumbled as you slowly started grinding against him. You felt your cheeks get redder and redder in embarrassment. You were mortified at the realization that the humiliated feeling only added to the ease of your grinding, getting wetter and wetter. Your underwear was no longer doing much to keep his shoe clean.

You looked up at Spencer, who looked unaffected. He put his hands in his pockets and sighed as if the current situation was nothing but an inconvenience to him. You slowly put your arms around his leg as you moved closer to him.

Soft whines left your mouth as you felt yourself getting closer. You'd never felt as conflicted before. So incredibly turned on, yet so embarrassed to be basically humping his leg.

Suddenly, Spencer ripped his leg away. You lost your support and fell flat on the floor in front of his feet. "That's enough."

"I thought you said I had to make myself cum, Sir?" You could hear you sounded as desperate as you probably looked.

"And I decided I'm not going to let you. Now, who said you could speak?" You quickly closed your mouth. "That's what I thought."

He gripped your upper arm harshly and hoisted you off the floor. You dared to peek at the shoe that had just now been your seat and were embarrassed to find it reflecting the light, unlike its matte counterpart.

Your legs wobbled as Spencer guided you to his desk. It was only now you realized the shutters weren't completely shut, light from the hallway shining down on your face as he pushed it down against the mahogany when he bent you over at the waist. Spencer followed your gaze.

"I guess you'll really have to be quiet, baby. My office hours start in less than an hour." You met his eyes with your own panicked ones. Anybody who did as much as try and look inside past the shutters would see you bent over his desk. He brushed your hair out of your face before flipping your skirt up and examining the sight before him.

"You soaked right through those panties of yours. Better take 'em off." He said as he hooked his fingers under them and pulled them down. You stepped out of them to the best of your ability.

Spencer picked them up, and gave them a short whiff, before walking around his desk. You didn't dare move but followed him with your eyes, confused. He looked at you as he unlocked a drawer, put them inside, and locked it again. You weren't getting those back.

He walked back around and admired the sight for a little before he unexpectantly gave your ass a harsh smack. You closed your eyes tightly as you felt yourself get wetter at the stinging sensation it left behind.

You jumped as he pushed two fingers inside without preparation. He placed his other hand on your back to push you back down against the desk. His eyes were warning you to stay still as he moved his finger expertly inside you. He brought his thumb to your clit, and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from making any noise. The circumstances from before had ensured you were nearing the edge concerningly fast.

When Spencer sped up, you brought a hand to your mouth to muffle any noise. You felt your eyes tear up at the intensity of the sensation, so you squeezed them closed. Just as you were about to fall over the edge, Spencer stepped away. His weight against you was what was keeping you up. You felt your knees buckle as a desperate cry left your lips.

"Please, Spencer. Please."

He looked furious as he grabbed your shoulders, turning you around and pushing you back on the desk. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. He pushed your shirt up, exposing more skin to him. He tugged your bra down, not bothering to unclasp it. He tugged roughly at your nipples, making you keen, and the tears finally spill from your eyes.

"Not so tough now, huh?" He mumbled as he undid his belt with one hand. The other was still pawing at your crudely exposed breasts. He didn't bother properly pulling his pants down, only taking his cock out of its confines. You imagined you looked downright filthy compared to how composed the man in front of you still managed to appear. There was a stain on his pants from where your crotch had met his, but other than that, he was pristine.

He gave his cock a few tugs before lining himself up, grabbing your thighs and pushing inside. You couldn't contain the guttural groan that escaped you as the strength of his thrust forced your head off the desk, hanging over the edge. He didn't care as he started pounding away, using his grip on your thighs as leverage.

You could barely breathe, the angle of your neck not allowing much air to flow. Your ears started to ring as blood pooled in your head, making you dizzy as Spencer kept his brutal pace. You tried gripping his arms to pull yourself back up before you passed out, but hardly to any avail. Spencer noticed your struggle and pulled your head back on the desk. The blood rushing back down, along with a particularly harsh thrust, had you moaning his name.

You heard his haggard breath as he continued filling you again and again. The sensation of him inside you drove you crazy, the tears from earlier still fresh on your cheeks. Low groans fell from Spencer's lips when one of his hands moved to your clit, rubbing rough circles.

Just as you'd recovered from your little upside-down stint, Spencer brought the hand still resting on your thigh up to your throat, reclaiming your ability to breathe freely. He squeezed in the exact right spot. Your hands moved to his wrist, not to get him to stop, but as leverage.

"You look so good like this, like a slut for your Professor. Crying on my cock while I decide if you get to breathe." You moaned as your nails dug harshly into his wrist. You were slowly getting lightheaded again.

"You're gonna cum on my cock when I tell you to." He spoke through the sound of skin hitting skin. His voice was strained, low moans reaching your ears.

"Yes, Sir." You struggled to get the words out.

"Good girl," Spencer said once more, giving a few more intentional thrusts deep inside you. A noise that could only be classified as a scream bubbles straight out of your chest when he hit the right spot over and over and over again. He finally released the hold on your neck.

"Cum." The demand had barely reached your ears as your vision went white. You felt his hips stutter against your own, shooting his load in tandem with your own orgasm.

He slowly pulled out and admired the sight of you still trying to recover, legs wide open, dripping with his cum on his desk.

You were on the edge of hyperventilating, all the sensations overwhelming you. Spencer slowly helped you sit up, careful to not let your privates touch the harsh wood of the desk. You let yourself fall against his chest as he held you up.

"Hey, hey. You're okay. Come on, look at me." He spoke softly, in complete contrast to just mere minutes ago. You met his eyes, which had softened tremendously.

"I'm sorry if I was too harsh on you." He quietly apologized, wiping the stray tears from your cheeks.

You shook your head. "No, no... You were right. That was exactly what I needed, I suppose. Good profiler." You chuckled emptily.

Spencer stifled a laugh as he wrapped his arms around you. "Next time, you can just ask for what you want, okay? No more of this little game."

"It was fun, though. Guess I underestimated you, Sir."

Spencer groaned at the title.

"Too soon, baby girl. Maybe clean yourself up before going there again."

You winced as you felt a trickle of his cum down your leg.

"Yeah, maybe." You grimaced. You were going to be sore for the next week.

He lifted your face to his, the action feeling a lot less domineering. His eyes were gentle as he slowly leaned in, placing a delicate kiss on your lips.

"You'll still need to rewrite that essay." He muttered as he pulled away.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, hitting his shoulder lightly before giving him a peck. "Sure thing, Professor."

PART 2

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lina-lovebug · 4 months

Text

I'd Fight The Devil

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Background: (Y/N) Morningstar with her partner, Alastor, has decided to put some of the Overlords in their place.

Warning: Alastor being Alastor, mentions of pregnancy but no one's pregnant, and Alastor might have a breeding kink

_ _ _

"(Y/N)! What a surpri-!"

"I believe that's Princess (Y/N) Morningstar, Heir to the throne of Hell, and Duchess of Chaos - to you," Alastor loved doing this. He adored how (Y/N) had decided to start using her true power, and to bring respect back to her name.

The family name, to be exact.

Valentino chuckled nervously as (Y/N) scoped out the place, her horns ever presenting and tail flicking with annoyance.

"What a pleasure to be hosting you, Princess. What would be the reason for this visit?" Valentino asked, offering her a drink.

"I'm fine, thank you," She dismissed it, already smelling the poison inside the cocktail.

"I'm here to discuss Angel Dust, and your contract with him."

"If he's too much trouble for the hotel, I'll happily-"

"You're the one causing the trouble," Alastor cut him off.

Valentino sputtered, "me?!"

"You can feign innocence all you wish, Val, but I've heard that you've called my sister a bimbo, along with many other colorful names," (Y/N) slowly stood up, leaning over his desk as the lights started to go out - one by one.

"Charlie is nice. She's always been the kinder of us Morningstars, but apparently this makes you think that you can go and soil our name. My father could have strung every sinner on a hook for eternity, torturing you all second by second as your screams sung into our great halls," no one had been unfortunate enough to see the form of (Y/N) Morningstar, and Val was one of them.

Her height expanded to nine feet tall, her pretty black nails forming into claws and her eyes ablaze with scarlet serpent pupils.

And wings - oh great black wings that could make even Adam rethink his attack.

When he was still alive, of course.

"And you sully his gift by mocking us."

"Look, Vox did it first! Okay?! He said you'd never-!" Val tripped on a tentacle that came from her beloved Alastor, who dropped a TV by his feet.

But not just any TV.

"Oh God," Val gasped, "Vox. . .?"

"I took care of him earlier," Alastor grinned, still reminiscent on his screams.

"I couldn't have my dear (Y/N) sully her hands with his filth. But whatever the Princess wants, she gets."

Oh to see her come into her power was as chilling as death itself.

"You're so romantic, Alastor," (Y/N) smiled.

That's when Valentino spotted it. On the left hand of (Y/N) Morningstar was a ruby wedding ring, the band pure gold.

Alastor finally did it.

He climbed up the latter, but not through power.

Well yes, through power, but he certified that it would always be his.

By marrying Lucifers daughter.

"We're matching, isn't it adorable?" Alastor showed off his own wedding band, ruby's encrusted inside of it.

"Now, where were we?" She grinned, and as an engagement gift, the screams of Vox and Valentino were broadcasted throughout all of Hell.

And they say chivalry is dead.

_ ☆ _

"They're fucking crazy."

"They're made for each other."

On that, Angel Dust and Husker could agree.

The lovely couple had become the center of Hells attention after their engagement was announced, and even though Alastor thought it would be hilarious for Lucifer to find out through the papers, she told him first.

And he cried.

"Oh my baby is all grown up!" Lucifer sobbed loudly, clinging onto her legs, "look at you! You-you used to be this small!" Lucifer grabbed a duck, "and you were so tiny and so cute!"

"Am I invited?" Lucifer squeaked, staring up into her eyes.

"Yes, dad," She smiled, bringing him up to his feet, "but we want to wait a bit before we plan anything."

"You know she used to bite my finger?!" Lucifer grabbed the baby pictures of little (Y/N), "look at how small she was! Oh, and this one is my favorite!"

Alastor truly didn't mind how touchy Lucifer had become with him, but thankfully, Lucifer also knew when to stop.

"Wait, is that why you're getting married?! Did you impregnate my daughter?!" Lucifer gasped, shoving his hand on her stomach.

"Dad! Dad, no! I'm not pregnant!" She quickly cleared up.

"Unfortunately," Alastor muttered to himself. Oh to see her belly swell with his children - his own spawn, it made his cock twitch at the thought.

He was fond of children but his own? Oh he'd spoil his little prince or princess with all the blood sacrifices the world had to offer.

"Yeah but you know what marriage entails, kiddo!" He pointed at them both with finger guns, "first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby-oh my GOD I'll be a grandpa!"

He started crying again.

She sighed, "at least we know our hypothetical child will be taken care of."

Alastor nodded, "I could not have picked a better father-in-law."

At this point, Lucifer was ugly crying.

Alastor looked at his beloved with a soft gaze as she tried calming her father down. To be honest, Alastor never thought he would ever find solace in Hell. He anticipated every day being a fight for his life, always looking over his shoulder and always striving for more power. And as cheesy as it sounded, he saw (Y/N) as his shining light. She brought out his sad heart, and for the first time in his life, he wished his mother was with him.

To see just what a wonderful woman he managed to catch.

#alastor imagine #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader

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daisynik7 · 8 months

Text

Teach Me, Senpai!

Pairing: Ino x f!reader x Nanami

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.6k

cw: smut - threesome, spit-roast, PIV sex (doggy style), blow job, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, Nanami is sorta a perv oops, Ino calls Nanami senpai, a hint of a breeding kink, use of pet names, everyone is an adult here in case that doesn’t come across clearly

Summary: Takuma Ino is your silly, golden retriever boyfriend who brings you along to meet his mentor, Nanami Kento. You’ve heard a lot about him, mostly because your boyfriend constantly praises him for being so amazing. You underestimate how close their relationship is until Ino starts asking his "senpai" for pointers on how to spice things up in the bedroom. What better way to learn than to demonstrate, right?

Author’s Note: I'm currently in heat, can you blame me? I tried my best to edit and proofread, sorry if there are any glaring grammar mistakes or typos, please ignore! Tagging @todorosie @crazychaoticizzy @gojoloves @brightnessemma @batafuraikisu (I know you didn't ask, but I'm tagging you anyways bc ily and I think you'd like this lol). I'm sorry if I missed any tags, Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciate, thank you for reading! MDNI divider by @/cafekitsune.

“You’re going to love him, I swear!” Ino insists, dragging you down the hallway of the office building, past empty cubicles. It’s past five and all the employees are out for the remainder of the day.

“I just don’t see why I have to meet him,” you argue, following him reluctantly.

“Because he’s important to me! He’s my mentor, my senpai! I have the highest respect for him, and I think it’s cool for you to finally put a face to a name. Aren’t you curious about the guy I’m always talking about?”

“Not really,” you answer, rolling your eyes. Honestly, you’ve grown sick of hearing your boyfriend gush so much about this Nanami fellow. You’re starting to feel jealous about how highly he thinks of this other man. “Why are we even here? This seems like a very random meeting spot.”

“We debrief here sometimes after our missions. He used to be a salary man, so I guess they still let him use the office.” They arrive at a closed door at the end of the hall. Ino knocks twice, a bright smile on his face, a little too excited for this.

A well-built blonde man answers, donning a blue dress shirt and spotted tie. You immediately notice how large his hands are, clenched to the door frame, staring at you from behind steampunk glasses. “Hello.”

“Nanami! Hey! This is my girlfriend, the one I’ve been telling you about.” You introduce yourself to him with a handshake, confirming that they are indeed very big compared to yours. You feel guilty noticing something that can be misconstrued as inappropriate, even lewd in most cases, so you quickly let the thought fade, stepping inside the room.

It’s a normal looking office, quite barren, except for the few papers stacked on the desk and a map posted on one of the walls. There’s a single chair facing the table, so you take that as Ino stands beside you, arm around your shoulders. “Thanks for letting us stop by. I really wanted to introduce you two to each other.”

Nanami nods curtly, leaning on the edge of the desk in front of you. Your eyes almost drift toward his crotch, curious about his size, but you resist the temptation, ashamed of yourself for even imagining something so completely wrong, especially with your boyfriend right next to you. “You said you wanted to speak to me about something,” he says, focusing on Ino. He removes his glasses, tucking them in his breast pocket.

“Ah, right! Well, I’m a little shy to ask, especially since I haven’t mentioned it to her yet…” Ino scratches his nape nervously, tugging his beanie to cover his reddening ears.

You look at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

He bites his lip, choosing his words carefully before speaking. “Well, you know how you and I have been…you know, having some trouble in the bedroom?”

At that, you immediately freeze, gaping at him, shocked. A strangled noise comes out of Nanami’s throat, equally jarred.

Ino continues. “I want to get some advice from someone I really trust, like Nanami.” He glances between you, waiting for a response, an uneasy grin on his face.

You’re stunned, heat surrounding your entire body now, mortified that your boyfriend would casually bring this up without any warning whatsoever. It’s no secret to either of you that your sex life has gotten a bit lackluster recently. Besides missionary and the occasional blowjob, there isn’t much else that you’ve tried in the bedroom. Neither of you are that experienced to begin with, and you both lack the confidence to initiate something different, something new. It’s a matter that you’ve been meaning to resolve privately. Or so you thought.

No one speaks for what feels like an eternity. You’re tempted to grab your boyfriend and haul ass out of there, hoping this entire conversation can be forgotten or played up to be some kind of cruel, sick joke. However, you remain seated, curiously anticipating Nanami’s response. After all, you haven’t flat-out refused yet, and neither has he.

Nanami clears his throat. “What kind of advice do you need?” You’re surprised that he’s even entertaining the idea.

“I just want a few tips on how to spice things up,” Ino answers. “Make it more enjoyable for her.” He puts his arm around you again, squeezing your shoulder. You don’t know whether to punch him or kiss him; the arousal growing between your legs says the latter. The thought of another man who’s practically a stranger instructing your eager boyfriend on how to pleasure you is titillating and definitely something different, something new. You won’t deny it: you’re intrigued.

Nanami crosses his arms over his chest, avoiding either of your gazes, focused on the floor instead. “I will help, if you both consent to it.”

Ino turns to you with puppy dog eyes. “Babe, you cool with this?”

Too invested now to refuse, you reply, “Sure.”

Your boyfriend lets out a sigh of relief, the tension relaxing in the air surrounding you. “Sweet. Me too.” He looks at Nanami, a bright smile on his face now, clearly thrilled about this. “What’s first, senpai?”

Nanami clears his throat again, standing up straight, taking a step towards you. “Well, foreplay is always a good place to start.”

Ino sticks his finger up. “Right! Foreplay. Uh, do you have a pen and paper so I can take notes…?”

“You don’t seriously need to take notes on foreplay, do you?” he snaps. “It’s as simple as kissing and touching on all the right spots.”

“What spots are those?”

“It’s probably better if you ask her.” Nanami points to you, making direct eye contact. “Where do you like to be touched?”

You swallow hard, timid from being put on the spot like this. “Just the normal places.”

“The two of you have to communicate better if this is ever going to work out,” he says, a hint of impatience in his tone. “Show him.”

Committing to this fully now, you stand up, grab Ino’s hand and brush it against your lips. “I like it when you kiss me. And when you touch my lips.”

He smiles at you. “That’s good.”

“You can also put your fingers in my mouth every once in a while. If you want,” you suggest, licking the tip of his middle finger.

He smirks. “Yeah. I definitely want that, too.”

“Sometimes, it’s better to learn by doing it,” Nanami interjects, watching the two of you carefully.

You gaze at Ino’s lips, then into his eyes, nodding. He leans in, kissing you slowly. He’s always been a good kisser, a great one, actually. The problem is that he’s too gentle with you.

“Kiss her neck,” Nanami orders, arms at his sides now, hands clenched into tight fists.

Ino follows, trailing down your chin until he’s at your neck, sucking on your skin.

“Put your fingers in her mouth. She said she likes that, right?”

Ino hums, tracing the outline of your lips with his thumb before pushing it in. You surround him, using your grip to pump him in and out of you. His other hand drifts to your waist, teasing the elastic of your pants.

“Are you getting wet, sweetheart?” Nanami’s voice is low and sultry; the use of the pet name has you unraveling much quicker than you expect. Without thinking, you breathe out, “Yes,” pushing his fingers deeper down your throat.

“Fuck, baby,” Ino moans, hot on your ear. “Where else do you want to be touched?”

You pull him out, swallowing your thick saliva, placing his hand between your legs. “Touch me here.”

Ino, eyes glossy with lust, slowly shimmies your pants down your legs, revealing your soaked panties. “Oh shit, you really are wet, fuck.”

“Eat her out,” Nanami demands. There’s a desperate gruffness in his voice that’s undeniable now, and one glance is all it takes for you to realize that he’s hard, an impressive bulge strained in his slacks. He shoves all his belongings off the desk, making room for you. “Here. Do it here.”

Ino curses under his breath, cock stiff in his sweats, leading you to the table, where you sit at the edge, spreading your thighs open for him. He slips your panties off, licking his lips before diving into your arousal, tongue pressed firmly on your clit. “Fuck,” you moan, squirming from the sensation.

Nanami walks to the other side, near your head, staring at Ino’s face buried in your pussy. Instinctually, you reach for him, pulling him by the belt, tongue hanging out. His eyes flit to yours, surprised when you say, “Touch me, senpai.”

Ino moans into you, clearly turned on by it. Obliging, Nanami hoists your shirt off, leaving you in just your bra, which he hastily unhooks to bare your chest. Bending towards you, he wraps his lips around one breast, suckling at your teat, his hand working the other nipple, pinched between his fingers. You’re close to your climax; you just need a little bit more. As if he can read your mind, Nanami releases you with a pop, saying, “Suck on her clit until she comes. Fuck her with your fingers at the same time.” His sudden vulgarity spurs you on, grinding your hips against your boyfriend’s face, pulling Nanami back to your tits.

Ino muffles, puckering his lips around you, sliding his middle finger inside you. You throw your head back on the desk, ecstasy rippling through your entire being, knees shaking with sensitivity.

“Yeah, she likes that,” Nanami purrs, flicking his tongue on your peaked nipples. “Put another in. One at a time, until she’s full.”

Ino manages to fit three of his digits inside you before you orgasm with him latched to your swelling bud, coating him in your slick. He doesn’t stop licking until you’ve come down from your high, pushing his head away, overstimulated. Nanami removes himself from you, unbuckling his belt, watching intently as your boyfriend slips his wet fingers inside your mouth. “Taste yourself babe. You’re so fucking good.” You slurp your own juices off him, pussy throbbing, aching to be fucked.

“You like that, don’t you, sweetheart?” Nanami murmurs, shimmying out of his pants, erection protruding from his briefs. He palms it, rubbing his thumb over the wet spot oozing from the tip. “Ino, tease her a little bit.”

“Yes sir,” he salutes, pulling down his bottoms, cock sprung against the hem of his sweater. He taps the tip of his dick on your puffy bud, smiling wide as you writhe for him. “Damn, baby. I’ve never seen you this wet before.”

“It’s a good thing you came to me then, isn’t it?” Nanami mentions, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. “Now turn around for us, princess. It’s going to feel so much better for you like this.”

You obey, readjusting your body to bend over the desk, ass pushed towards Ino, desperate to be used by them both. Your boyfriend positions his cock at your entrance, huffing, “You ready, baby?”

“Yeah. Fuck me, Ino,” you moan. “Fuck me hard.”

He glides in slowly, stretching you out little by little, easing into you. Once he’s all the way in, groin pressed to your ass, he starts thrusting at a steady pace. It increases gradually until he’s pounding away at you, hitting that sweet spot over and over until your eyes glaze over, in a total state of bliss.

Nanami studies you, enjoying the show until he notices you staring at the bulge in his briefs, tongue lolling, practically begging for him. He smirks at you. “You want all your holes stuffed, don’t you, sweetheart?”

You nod, drool leaking from the sides of your mouth, eyes weepy, peering up at him. How could he resist such a cock hungry slut like you? Especially when you look at him like this?

“I’m going to give you my cock then. Think you can take it?” he asks, shoving his underwear off, cock flopping against his abdomen.

“Oh yeah, she can fucking take it,” Ino grunts, hands gripped to your hips, still fucking you with fervor. “Right babe?” He delivers a fresh slap to your ass, which echoes off the walls of the office.

“Yeah, I can take it,” you mumble, gulping down the spit collecting on your tongue.

Nanami hums, satisfied with your answer, inching his dick closer to your mouth. “Open up for me, sweetheart.”

You do, swallowing him until he bottoms out to the back of your throat, testing your gag reflex. He stays still, staring at you, relishing this lewd sight. “Ino, your girlfriend looks so pretty with my cock in her mouth. Don’t you agree?”

“Fuck, yeah. So fucking hot how she just takes it. She’s a good girl, always has been,” he says from behind you, spreading your cheeks open to watch himself disappear into your pussy with each thrust.

“You’re a lucky man,” Nanami mutters, tipping your chin up, gazing into your eyes. “And you’re a lucky girl, aren’t you? Getting fucked by your boyfriend and his senpai.” Nanami begins to move, pumping himself in and out of your hungry mouth, your tongue running along the underside of his dick.

Ino shrugs his beanie off, running his fingers through his hair, damp with perspiration. “Oh fuck, baby, you’re taking us so fucking good.”

“Like a proper slut,” Nanami adds, tracing the outline of your lips, glossy with spit, stretched around his shaft. “Do you suck his cock as good as you suck mine?”

You nod, swallowing your gag reflex as the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat with each solid thrust of his hips. Your second orgasm approaches quickly, your pussy clenching Ino’s cock, though you can’t say anything while gobbling up Nanami’s cock, so you let it be, continuing to be spit-roasted over the desk, thirsty for their cum.

“Fuck, I’m going to come soon,” Ino says, slowing his pace. “I’ve never…I’ve never come inside her before.”

Nanami, still relishing his blow job, asks, “Why not?”

“Too scared to get her pregnant,” he admits. It’s true; Ino always pulls out, even when you beg him to finish inside you. You appreciate that about him, but in this moment, you want nothing more than his cream pie filling you up.

“Is she on birth control?”

“Y-Yeah.”

Once again, as if psychic, Nanami responds, “Then I’m sure she wouldn’t mind getting your load just this once. Right, sweetheart?”

Your words are muffled. Nanami pulls out, cock wet with your spit, stroking it in his fist. “What was that, princess?”

“I said yes! Give it to me, Ino!” you whine, shaking around him.

“Fuck, are you sure, baby? You sure you want it?”

“Give it to me. Want you to breed me,” you blurt out.

“That’s it, that’s a good girl,” Nanami coos, slapping the head of his cock on your tongue. “How about here? You want it here too?”

You glance at Ino, who’s watching. He nods, licking his lips. “Yes. Want your cum inside me, senpai,” you reply.

He smirks, pushing himself back inside you, his length sliding on every inch of your tongue. “Good girl.”

It doesn’t take long for both men to come, Ino shooting his seed deep into your womb, stuffing you full, Nanami spurting ribbons into your mouth, guzzling down each drop. They pull out slowly, cocks sensitive now from the stimulation. You roll over onto your back, catching your breath, looking up at them with a satisfied smile on your face.

Nanami cups your cheek in his hand, thumb brushing delicately against your skin. “Such a messy girl. I think she needs a few more lessons. What do you think, Ino?”

Your boyfriend’s eyes are blown wide, staring at the lewd sight before him, your pussy leaking with his cum, your mouth drooling with Nanami’s. “Yeah. Definitely needs more, senpai.”

#nanami kento #nanami kento smut #nanami smut #nanami x reader #ino x reader x nanami #ino takuma x reader #takuma ino x reader #takuma ino smut #ino takuma smut #ino x reader x nanami smut #nanami kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami smut #nanami x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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emeraldbloodcrown · 2 months

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i'm thinking of an alpha 141, with price and simon being you stereotypical alphas, while johnny and kyle might be mistaken for betas - until you piss them off and then even price and simon struggle to hold them back.

they're all alphas but they're also all part of the same pack, which wasn't planned by either of them but it's not unheard of for that to happen in a task force as close knit as the 141. it's their bread and butter to go into the most dangerous situations, to protect one another, to take bullets or knifes for the others; they're the only ones who can actually understand the depth of the trauma each of them is going through.

of course they'd bond together and form a pack. but they're all also alphas. alphas with a desperate wish to mate and breed, and they can't do that with each other, they need an omega for that. but an omega who not only accepts and respects their weird pack dynamic but actively wants that? unheard of, chances so slim they were non-existent.

but so were the chances of simon crawling out of that grave or johnny recovering from that shot to the head.

and they did find one, someone who loved all four of them, someone who wanted to be their mate and give them a child. a beautiful little girl, who somehow seemed to share all of their appearances. and it was perfect.

until it wasn't. until these alphas had to gravel with the situation that their omega was gone, mating bond ripped apart, and their little girl screaming her lungs out. so used to the omega's scent, which after months of trying their best was now fully gone, that it put her in severe distress for weeks on end, leaving not only her but her fathers restless.

and then there's you, their newly moved in neighbor, they only knew their name from their landlord when they came back from their latest mission, knocking and looking just as stressed as them.

price had opened the door for you, chest puffed and ready to tear you apart for coming at his pack but you were calm..exhausted beyond belief, of course, but understanding and most of all concerned for their girl..

"all that screaming can't be healthy for her either"

you had a small container with you, a remedy from your great-grandmother, all herbal so as not to offend her nose, that needs to be rubbed into her chest before bed.

"i'll just leave it here, maybe it helps"

johnny, always the perceptive one, will forever remember how you smiled sadly at their daughter, how your fingers seemed to itch towards her before you remembered your place and just left.

they would soon find out that you were an utter blessing, kind to the bone and so unbelievably considerate. the ointment worked wonders and for the first time in over a month, they saw their daughter smile again and each other finally relax.

and from that point on, johnny was gone, absolutely enamored by you and always jumping at the chance to invite you into their circles, knowing full well the others were much more hesitant, the pain and trauma from their omega abandoning them still stiff in their bones.

but they'd see what he already saw, and it was like you wanted to prove him right when you found out about what happened to their omega, to the one among them that should be bonded the closest to their little girl but was still able to just leave.

you clenched your fingers so tight he was almost afraid you'd break something, the muscles in your neck tightened and you downright snarled, nostrils flared and lip pulled back.

"is...is that normal? her screaming like that for weeks on end? is that likely to happen with something like this?"

the air in the room tensed, charged, similar to before a storm, and it answered all of their suspicion, when they gave you the answer that yes, it was normal - and it audibly cracked around you, like thunder striking, and you had to take a deep breath, mumbling in an old language to let your environment not be influenced by your emotions, lest you hurt or scare any of them.

"you're a witch"

and damn, it should terrify him, witches and shifters don't mix well but all he can think of is that he was right, you were perfect for them, your protectiveness of their daughter only outmatched by them, and if johnny hadn't already made up his mind, hadn't already talked it through with his pack, this would definitely solidify it:

witch or not, you were theirs and mark or not, they'd never let you leave again.

#crown mumbles #i have a distinct idea with this #can you see it??#cod mw2 #cod x reader #141 x reader #poly 141 #john price #john price x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #kyle garrick #kyle garrick x reader

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lavender-devotion · 2 months

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Hi Hi! I wasn't sure if you're open but can I request a Alastor x reader who is a charlie's older sister and she is alastor's fiance. They never told their hotel friends, basically they're in a secret relationship, until Lucifer arrived (from episode 5 dad beat dad) and announced she's engaged. but no body knew who her fiance was until alastor popped up behind her and pressed a kiss on her. Charlie's happy and Lucifer D:

As soon as I saw this request I immediately ran to make this meme, lmao I'm sorry 😭

anywho, here we go lmao

Summary: You’re Lucifer's eldest and, much like Charlie, you’re desperate to have his support and approval---he’s your dad, of course you are. So, when he finally visits the hotel, you can't wait to tell him that you're engaged. And he's overjoyed...that is, until he finds out that you're engaged to the Radio Demon. What happens when your fiancé and your dad start feuding over you, forcing you to pick a side? Your family, or the love of your life?

Tags: Alastor x Fem!Reader, No Use of (Y/N), Reader is Lucifer's Eldest, Secret Relationship, Lucifer has a heart attack bc Alastor, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, we're just gonna pretend Alastor has been at the hotel a longer time than in canon bc Plot, Charlie is a Good Sister TW: None <3 Word Count: 2.6k Read it on Ao3 <3

When you'd first met Alastor, you had been…skeptical of him, to say the least.

To be completely honest, you’d hated him—and that was putting it lightly. You hated how condescending he was, you hated the fact that he clearly had ulterior motives, you hated that he kept everything about himself a secret, you hated his damn smile, you hated…him!

And the feeling was definitely mutual.

Alastor hated your obvious distrust of him, he hated the fact that you neither feared nor respected him, he hated the way you’d constantly tell Charlie and the others to be wary of him, he hated the way you always seemed to get in the way of his plans, he hated…you!

And no matter how many lessons Charlie had on friendship and trust—lessons that she forced the two of you to attend, I might add—or how many lectures about how the two of you needed to get along or how much she begged the two of you to stop fighting, nothing ever worked.

But…then something changed.

At some point between then and now, the two of you began to soften and learn more about each other---often against your will, and your wishes---and you found...that you had more in common than previously thought.

You both preferred radio to television, you both had a love and penchant for cooking, you both enjoyed quite a few of the same novels, and on and on it went. And those similarities brought the two of you closer together and, although neither of you ever wanted to admit it, you actually began to get along. Eventually, after enough time had passed, the two of you managed to forget why you didn't get along in the first place---all of it becoming a distant memory.

Of course, one thing led to another, and now you were lucky enough to have a pretty little ring on your left hand---not married yet, but soon to be.

Obviously none of the others knew about any of this, by both of your wishes. You were both private people and, knowing everyone else, they would ask questions and the two of you would end up having to spill your entire life's stories to finally get them to leave it be---and even that wasn't guaranteed!

So, to avoid the drama of it all, you just...kept things quiet. Private.

It wasn't particularly hard---Alastor wasn't much of a PDA person, especially in public; neither of you were particularly big fans of pet names; your dates were always fairly simple; and the two of you had your own jobs within the hotel to attend to, so half the time you weren't even in each other's presence.

It was...nice. Having someone to lean on, being able to see another side of Alastor---and having him all to yourself. No one else had him like you did, and you preferred it that way. Of course, though, all good things had to come to an end.

Your and Charlie's father, Lucifer, was coming to the hotel for the first time and---knowing him---it'd be the last, so now was possibly your only chance to tell him about your engagement in person.

Part of you was nervous, considering that you hadn't even told him---or anyone else---you were dating someone and now you were just going to spring an engagement on all of them, but another part of you was relieved and excited. Obviously, you would miss the privacy, but who knew? Maybe everyone's constant curiosity wouldn't bother you as much as you thought, and you might actually end up enjoying a more public relationship.

One where you could kiss him whenever you pleased, instead of being forced to wait until the two of you were alone; one where you could wish him goodbye with an "I love you," instead of snarky "don't die" on the way out; one where you could simply blow off any potential suitors with an "I'm married," instead of having to convince them that you really weren't interested in dating. Maybe all of that would be nice too.

"Nervous?" Alastor asked, the static overlay of his voice drawing you out of your thoughts. You turned away from the mirror you were looking into, instead turning your attention to your beloved---his ever-present smile softening as he looked at you.

"A little, I just..." you sighed, "I just want this to go well, but---knowing my dad---he's going to freak out and it'll be a whole thing."

He chuckled and stepped forward until he was close enough to brush a stray piece of hair out of your face, "not to worry, my dear, I'm sure everything will go just fine."

"But-"

"And if it doesn't," he continued, "I'll be by your side to help you fix it all. You won't be alone."

You smiled and let him draw you into a chaste kiss, some of your tension dissipating in his presence. Somehow he always knew how to make you feel better.

"What would I ever do without you?" You asked, gently cupping his face.

He tilted his head slightly to press another kiss to your palm, "you'll never have to find out."

Suddenly the unmistakable sound of Charlie's voice made its way up to your shared room, introducing everything and everyone in the hotel to---who you assumed to be---your father. So there was no more preparing yourself for it, now you just had to do. Besides, maybe Alastor was right, maybe he'd take the announcement better than you thought.

There was only one way to find out.

----------

"WHAT??? HIM???"

He did not, in fact, take it better than you thought.

You tried to wait for the perfect time to break the news, but---of course---your dad had immediately spotted the ring on your finger- (a detail that, somehow, everyone else had missed) -and pressed you for more information, his actual reason for visiting long forgotten. By both him and everyone else, apparently.

Getting a meeting with Heaven was suddenly playing second fiddle to everyone's curiosity about who you'd been dating behind their backs---who you were now engaged to. So, after a lot of pressing and pressing, you'd finally relented and admitted that it was Alastor. Which had led to...all of this.

Charlie was vibrating off the walls, everyone else was in various states of shock, and your dad...looked like he was in the middle of a mental breakdown.

"You can't- I mean-" He laughed, more than a little hysterical, "you're not actually engaged to him, are you?"

Before you could answer, Alastor cut in---a sharp edge coloring his tone.

"Why wouldn't she be?"

Your father's attention switched from you to Alastor, practically seething as he looked at him. You couldn't see Alastor's face from your place beside him, but you could tell that the feeling was mutual by the crackling electricity that crawled across your skin.

"Have you ever fucking met you?" Your father asked incredulously.

"Yes, and I'm very lucky to have her," Alastor responded, punctuating his statement with a gentle kiss on your cheek---a kiss obviously done just to piss your father off, since you knew Alastor wasn't exactly fond of public affection.

The tension was thick in the air as the two just stood there, glaring at each other.

Then finally, your father laughed.

"Alright then..."

Jazzy, upbeat, music suddenly came out of nowhere, and—before you had any time to process what was happening—you were drawn into your father’s song and dance number, the world around you shifting to follow his words.

“Looks like you could use some help, from the big boss of Hell himself! Obviously, since I don’t know how you could’ve felt that this–”

One voice, “Bastard!”

Two, “Jackass!”

Three, “Arrogant piece of shit!”

Back to your father, “–would ever make a suitable husband! Especially for you, did you forget?”

He twirled you around until you were in an elegant dress and crown, falling backwards onto a throne.

“You’re a princess of Hell, so better yet! Rather than an old outdated crook—who’s probably just using you for your station, at least from the looks—why not let your dad give you pick of the lot?” He snapped his fingers, new people appearing with every beat, “men, women, or those in between; outgoing royalty or someone serene, anything but this walking tomato lookin’ prick—you could have anyone, so just take your pick!”

A streak of shadow suddenly shoved your father to the side, Alastor appearing in his place with a charming grin—his shadow twirling around you like it was trying to hold you.

“My dear it’s true that you’re one of a kind—everything anyone could ask for, a very rare find,” he knelt before you and kissed your hand, “I’m a very lucky sinner to call you my own, to stand by your side as you sit on your throne.”

He then moved to sit on the arm of your throne, pulling you into his side, “however I have to agree that someone around here is a crook, but it’s certainly not me, so let’s take a look!”

The first person he picked out of the crowd was Charlie, his shadow minions bringing her forward dressed in her own royal attire, “your darling sister, who’s been by your side—supporting you through your troubles, high or low tide!”

Next came the other residents, dressed in their own fancy clothing, although less detailed than yours and your sister’s, “your close hotel friends, do you dare suspect them? Even though they’ve proven they’d follow you to the end?”

Finally he knelt in front of you again, dressed in his own royal attire and placing a golden ring on your left ring finger, “or do you truly think it could be me, your doting husband-to-be? Could I be the traitor despite the love, trust, and devotion I’ve given to you, or everything I’ve done to prove that my affection is true?”

“Of course not! You know that, so why don’t you see?” Suddenly your father was shoved forward like a criminal, the shadows dressing him in peasant style clothing, “the only traitor around here is this snake, does he take you for Eve?”

“Excuse me?” Your father asked incredulously, pushing back the shadows and reappearing in his usual clothing.

“Trying to lead you to darkness with his tricks and lies, wanting you to be miserable and lonely instead of by my side.”

“Hold on now–” “All this unsupportive jargon, telling you how you should live your life,” Alastor practically snarled, looking your father dead in the eye, “no wonder that this bastard was left by his wife.”

Your head was left spinning as things quickly switched between your father playing a golden fiddle, to your fiance interrupting him on a vintage piano—the two practically seething at each other before turning their attention back to you.

First Alastor, “my dear, why don’t you pick your own path, instead of listening to this stick in the mud?”

Then your father, “why choose a shitty partner over your own blood?”

And that is how it went.

“And pick a deadbeat father, nothing more than a dud? Wouldn’t you rather find happiness with the family you choose?”

Over.

“Yeah, sure, pick a bunch of losers–”

And over.

“Can you butt out of my song?”

And over.

“Your song? I started this!”

Until finally– “I’m singing it, I’ll finish it!”

You had had enough.

“Oh you tacky piece of sh–”

"JUST STOP!" You shouted, bringing their argument to a screeching halt and drawing a deadly silence into the room, "for fuck's sake---how can the two of you not see your own hypocrisy?! Even when it's sitting right in front of you!"

The two of them stared at you, wide eyed, but you kept going before they could respond.

"You're arguing over what's best for me, while not even fucking asking me what I want! This isn't even about me, this is about the two of you hating each other," you took a breath, desperately blinking back tears, "well you know what? BOTH of you are hurting me! BOTH of you are ignoring my wishes! BOTH of you are treating me like shit! And I don't want to fucking be around EITHER OF YOU!"

And without another word you turned on your heel and left the hotel.

----------

The moment you heard footsteps coming near you, you flipped around and snarled---prepared to snap at your father or Alastor, whichever one decided to come kiss your ass to one-up the other. But, instead, you only found Charlie standing behind you, a concerned look on her face.

You immediately turned away from her and wiped your eyes, not wanting your little sister to see you like this, but she didn’t seem to mind—just sitting beside you and resting her head on your shoulder as you sniffled.

After a moment, you broke the silence.

“I just…I don’t understand,” you said, voice shaking, “they’ve known each other for five fucking minutes and already hate each other. Why can’t they just get along for me? Do I seriously matter that little to them?”

Charlie was quiet for a moment, mind churning.

“I don’t necessarily think that’s it,” her voice was quiet as she spoke, as if she was thinking through each word, “I think that, for the first time ever, both of them are dealing with the fact that they might not be the most important man in your life and…I guess this is just their way of reacting to that.”

You turned to her, eyebrows raising, and she continued to explain.

“Family is important to you, Alastor knows that, but he hasn’t had to…complete, I guess, with anyone for his place by your side before—so, when dad showed up and openly disapproved of him, I think he just got scared that you’d leave him because of what dad thinks,” she took a breath, still thinking through her words, “dad, on the other hand, has always been the one who you’d run to for everything—if you were scared, sad, happy, or needed help, he was the one you’d go to. Now you have Alastor and that’s who you go to for everything, so I think dad just got scared that you wouldn’t need him anymore now that you’re getting married.”

“Congratulations, by the way,” she added wryly, squeezing your arm with a smile.

You gave her a small smile back, “how’d you ever get to be so smart?”

“I learned from the best.”

You sighed, “I just wish they’d get over themselves, I can—in fact—have more than one important man in my life, there’s not a fucking limit.”

“Yeah well…men can be stupid, I guess.”

You snorted and pulled her close, gently ruffling her hair, “you’ve got that right…between you and me, though, I like you better than both of them.”

Charlie giggled and hugged you, the two of you inseparable, just like when you were kids. You took a little longer to just breathe and enjoy the sweet moment with your sister, before finally releasing her.

She then got up and dusted off her suit, bright smile now firmly back in place, “now, let’s head back! I’m pretty sure Vaggie’s already got them working on their apologies, and I already have so many ideas for a new lesson plan on: selflessness and communication!”

You shook your head, but didn’t manage to quite hide your smile. Whatever happened, at least you would always have Charlie by your side…and Alastor and your father, if the two could manage not to kill each other.

“Those apologies better not be in fucking song format.”

“…I’ll text Angel.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #devotion's posts: requests🪻#devotion’s posts: fic stuff 🪻

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miguelhugger2099 · 6 days

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Just a silly little request👉👈

Do u think fem!reader likes to wear crop top with no bra and Miguel's boxer. You two are just flirting and teasing each other until Miguel decided to toss the remote to reader for movie night and reflex, she tries to catch it reveal her tits and Miguel just "😳... Nice catch..." And smut if u want. Having his hands speezing them I'm going insane 😭😭

Just One Touch

a/n: this ask has been in my inbox for so long and ur not gonna believe what got me out of my month long stump to write this. everyone thank sir-mix-a-lot's song "ride" it possessed me and gave me energy. excuse the crappy writing, i'm still lowk having writers block so it's not my greatest work. please enjoy and as alwayssss i can rewrite this if you'd like <3 Art: mar_mar0u on instagram ! Unedited btw, plz dont crucify me ill die :(

It wasn’t unusual for you and Miguel to wind down after the sun had set. Movie night was a must, whether it was cheesy romcoms for you to sob to, horror movies for Miguel to be annoyed at, or even action movies to make fun of–as long as it was together. Still, Miguel teased you by holding the remote up above his head and out of your reach. He grins with one hand on his hip and watches you reach up with no progress in sight. “Give it!” You laugh, trying to keep your anger believable. “No, first you take my clothes and I know you’re gonna pick one of those creepy knock off animated movies.” He chuckles and he walks off. Due to the size difference, every step of his was three of yours–practically chasing after him. “Put respect on Over the Hedge’s name! It’s not even a knock off!” Miguel plops on the couch on one side with a huff of laughter. “Fine, fine. Here–take it!” He throws the remote above your head and you pause and stumble back.

You reach high up to grab the remote. “You asshole!” You laugh. The remote hits your fingertips and bounces a bit farther back. Your crop top rides and flows up as you lean back onto one foot to finally grasp the device in your hand.

Miguel could feel everything happen in slow motion. The small glimpse of your underboob before your nipples finally come into view. The grin on Miguel’s face slowly drops and he could feel drool slipping from his lips. He watched your boobs bounce, the roundness of your flesh and perky buds making his cheeks go red. He can’t help the disappointment in his face when your arms fall back down, shirt hiding the glorious view of your tits.

“Caught it!” You smirk at him triumphantly. His eyes continue to glance at your tits. “Yeah, uh…” He gulps. “Nice catch.” He adjusts his shorts, hoping his growing bulge wasn’t too apparent.

You don’t notice, too engrossed in your victory and making Miguel speechless. So, you crawl in his lap, Miguel’s hands suspended in mid-air as you nestle yourself in his arms. You feel his muscles surround you like a warm comfortable blanket, leaning your back on his firm chest while you click the buttons to turn on the TV.

“So what are we picking this time?” You ask, flipping through random trailers to find what you’re looking for.

“Huh? Oh, uh, anything’s fine.” Miguel shrugs half-heartedly. He’s too focused looking down at your crop top. Slowly and gingerly, his fingers caress your stomach–light and feathery as if trying to be discreet.

“Yeah sure, whatever. Don’t complain if you don’t like it.” You laugh softly, clicking on a random movie that looked good enough.

“Mhm.” Miguel mumbles, not even hiding his disinterest in a damn movie right now. While your eyes are on the opening scene on the TV, Miguel’s eyebrows scrunch together, his lips into a tight line as he resists his urges.

He can’t help it though. He gets handsy, Miguel carefully caressing your stomach. You barely notice it since the two of you always get snuggled up like this.

You only notice when he hikes higher up, his hips shifting slightly while his fingers run up and down the valley of your tits. You smack his arm around your waist with the remote.

“What are you doing?” You ask, trying to sound annoyed but the smile seeps through your tone.

“Nuthin’” He murmurs. Miguel then feels the curve of your breast, his fingers itching for a squeeze.

“We’re supposed to be bonding.” You move to turn your head up at him. You try to meet his eyes but he stays glued downwards to your chest.

“We are.” Miguel insists, his lips slightly parted. His thumb swipes across your nipple and you gasp, feeling your cheeks burn. He can feel the nub perk up and his tongue darts out to lick his lips, biting his bottom lip to hide the satisfied smile on his face.

Miguel takes his chances, bending down to kiss along your neck, tugging you closer to him and making you melt. His body moves against yours and your eyes flutter shut. His mouth gently sucks and licks your skin and you shiver. Miguel grabs your left tit, the plump flesh squeezed in his palm. His fingers flick your nipple, circling around before gently twisting it.

You back arches and you moan. “Ah–fuck, Miguel!” You hissed, a burning heat crawling up your neck. Your hand lifts up to curl in his hair while he attacks your neck, his other hand running down to his boxers you were wearing. He slips his fingers in the front hole of the boxers, using his index and middle fingers to spread your folds apart. You feel him nip your neck with a smile as he smears your slick around your clit.

He then uses both of his hands to lift your shirt up and over your head. Your breasts are now out in the open, the cool air hitting your chest and making your nipples hard. You barely get a word out, Miguel already cupping your boobs and squeezes them. Your hips buck back to grind on his crotch, eyes closing as he plays with you. Miguel used his fingers to tease your nipples simultaneously, flicking and tweaking them. He lifts them up and watches them fall down before squeezing them again. Your pussy is soaking through his boxers, aching for more stimulation that’s making you feel empty.

His eyes are dark watching his own hands play with your chest, the memory of the bounce of your tits as you caught the remote high in the air. He wanted to see that again.

Miguel could feel his cock swell and twitch along with each bounce of your breasts. You have your body arching, hands behind you and holding onto his thighs. He plays with your tits switching with his hands or his mouth–but if you asked him, he preferred sucking on them. So that’s where he was now, lips attached to your right nipple and his right hand playing with your left. You slammed down on his cock, whining since you barely felt him thrust up. But in all honesty, Miguel could do this forever with your tits in his mouth and his cock buried in your cunt. While his tongue sucked and lipped your nipple, he knew if he didn’t focus, he’d cum instantly. He looks up at you after playfully biting down on your nub, your squeaks making his dick twitch against your walls. You look down with glossy eyes, hips stuttering and pussy throbbing when you see him smirk up at you with your boob in his mouth. One of his hands that was on your waist comes up to your back to keep your body arched. Miguel scrunches his eyes shut, eyebrows furrowed while he sucks on your nipple, his hips jerking and balls slapping against your ass. You wail with each thrust, falling forward and holding onto the backrest making your boobs squish in his face. Miguel groans as he lets you fall on top of him, hands falling down to your ass as you grind on him. His cock slips in and out of your wet cunt with a wet squelch. It makes you bite your lip with a loud whimper, the action making your man under you tug on your nipple with his teeth. He’s obsessed with you, Miguel pulling away just enough to make your tits swing in his face. He glances up at your pleasure filled face, sweat glistening down your face and body while you panted and whined. He’s entranced, eyes falling down to follow the way your boobs bounce as he fucks up into you. Miguel trusts you to keep fucking yourself on his while his hands leave your ass to come up and cup and squeeze both your breasts. He kneads them and watches your mouth drop open to moan. Your head hangs and your foreheads almost touch. Miguel doesn’t need to tell you a damn thing, his lips parted while he looks at yours. You lean down to kiss him, Miguel immediately slipping his tongue past your defenses with a low groan. He continues groping you, his hips smacking up with your thrusting and he can feel himself about to cum. He can tell you’re about to too by the way your pussy spasms wildly, sucking him in deeper and soaking him in your slick.

So he hammers into you, grunting as he puts all his strength in making you cream. Your eyes roll back, mouth separating from his to dig your nails into his shoulders and roll your hips. You can barely get a word out, garbled moans of his name escaping you while your body twitches, ecstasy flowing through from top to bottom. Miguel watches your chest heave as you catch your breath, your juices dripping out of your a making a sticky mess in his lap. You’re dizzy and weak, body flopping forward on his chest. Miguel soothes you, curling his hand in your hair and pressing you into the crook of his neck. He kisses the top of your head and you’re too numb to feel him take your body off him. He places your back down on the couch, hair sticking to your face with sweat, lips plumped from kissing. You’re whining when your sensitive folds feel his still hard cock rub in between them, accidentally slipping his tip in a few times. You swallow to get the dryness out of your throat. “Mig…Mig…” You’re cut off when Miguel slams into you, your body jerking and tits bouncing with the hard thrust. Your hazy vision rolls onto his face, Miguel glued onto your chest still. He gives another few soft thrusts and watches your boobs jiggle around. You feel his cock jump inside your walls, a soft hum of approval coming from deep in his throat. He bends down, biting and licking the side of your tit to add another mark to his collection. His teeth marks littered around your plump and round flesh–his favorites being the ones around your areola.

His face is buried in your breasts while he pounds into you, your head thrown back and legs locked around his waist. Oh, he’s in heaven.

#miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader reblog #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel x y/n #miguel x you

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bizbat · 4 months

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When They're In Love HCS - Jason Todd

~ Fem terms used for reader

~ Partially based on these headcanons

🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️

🐼JJK Masterlist🐼

~ You can find part two here, and part three here.

~ You can find more of my works here

Jason Todd seems like the type to fall hard and fast. He might not admit it for a while, but he's been developing feelings for you from at least the second or third time you met.

He's the type to call you "Wifey" or "The Missus" even when you aren't married and regardless of whether or not you to plan to.

He absolutely keeps a picture or two of you in his wallet, and no, he doesn't think it's cheesy in the slightest.

He's the type to lay on you. Your chest, your tummy, even your butt if you're laying on your stomach, your size and weight is irrelevant.

You'll be minding your own business, laying down and reading a book or playing on your phone, and he'll come out of nowhere and drop all 230+ lbs of muscle on your smaller body.

If you wheeze and try to crawl out from under him, try to push his giant hulking form off of you, he'll just wrap his arms around you and tell you he's tired, and just needs a few minutes of sleep.

Doesn't actually spend as much time reading as he would like to, but if you enjoy reading he'll always find time to do it with you.

If libraries had gold card memberships, he would be the one to have it. He'd rent any and as many books as you want.

Sometimes, he'll go out of his way to find books he thinks you'd like or that you can read together. Sometimes, he'll even give you old books from his personal library if he thinks you'll enjoy them as much as he did

I don't think he's be huge on giving gifts, I see him as more of a quality-time type (but i see almost all of the bats as quality-time types so take that with a grain of salt), but I do think he'd give you lots of tiny gifts all the time.

He'll pick up a quick breakfast for the both of you at the local bodega, he'll get your pet treats, he'll bring over your favorite candy or snack everytime he comes over to your place, etc.

Loves movie nights. Doesn't matter which movie it is, it could be some dumb, low budget nightmare made to babysit kids, or the best piece of visual media ever made by human hands.

He loves being able to talk to you, he loves hearing your opinions, loves hearing your voice. He'll recommend movies to watch just because he knows you'll have a lot to say about them.

I don't think he'd have a big moment where he introduces you to his entire family, I think he'd introduce you slowly, one person at a time.

I think he'd start with Dick or Cass, or Alfred, then so on and so forth. I think Tim and Damian would either be dead last, or have to find out on their own.

The only reason the others were told by Jason straight up is because they have that bare minimum amount of respect to stay out of his business. 💀

If you're a civilian, I don't think he'd want you to have anything to do with the more dangerous side of his life. It's bad enough you're dating him to begin with, he doesn't want to put you at anymore risk.

It's a somewhat different story if you're another vigilante. I still don't think he'd want you involved in his work specifically, but he would at least know you could take care of yourself if it came down to it.

He almost always wakes up before and goes to bed after you.

He likes seeing you when you're asleep, your hair a mess, or your bonnet askew.He thinks you're so cute when you're sleeping.

I don't think he'd take lots of pictures, but i don't think he'd mind if you did.

He might actually enjoy it if you just have a ton of selfies with him.

You are his lockscreen. Whether that was a decision made by you or him is still up for debate.

Doesn't care if you're more masculine or feminine, i think he'd find something to enjoy about both aspects.

Or if you were more androgynous.

He'd for sure call you "My girl".

A list of names I think he'd call you: My girl/wife, Wifey, Angel, Sweet thing, Princess, Baby

I've said it before and I'll say it again, the man LIVES for domesticity.

Even if you aren't married, you guys will act like an old married couple.

He's not my personal fave, but guess I had a lot of thoughts about him lol

#bizbat #jason todd x reader #jason todd hc #jason todd headcanons #dc headcanon #dc #red hood #red hood x reader

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jakesangel · 9 days

Text

how to love jake VS how jake loves you

how to love jake <3

• soft words

- do you see how he blush or how he smiles away whne the members give him attention or compliment him ? it truly makes his heart warms he can't keep a straight face. but when it comes to you ? oh he would lose it, his cockiness disappearing. he always seek for your validation, always asking you if what he is doing is good enough for you or if he is a good boy for you.

- also pet names ᵎ he loves it when you call him your pretty boy or your baby. he is so down bad for you and you only, he wants you to acknowledge it and show him off. specially in front of the members, he is so proud to have such pretty girl calling him hers in front of his friends so even if he is shy at first he will be beaming in front of them, almost putting his tongue out, making them roll their eyes.

• making him feel like he is needed

- it goes w the previous one. he wants to be good for you. so let him buy you things, open your doors, put on your shoes. but don't forget to pet him and/or kiss him as a reward.

- he also seek emotional bound, so whne you let him know that you have troubles with some stuff in your life or thag your sad or whatever, he is more than willing to listen to you and help you.

• letting him be clingy

- you don't have to be all over jake but to at least accept his kisses n cuddles. if you're a physical affectionate person he would really love it but he wouldn't love you less if you aren't into that. he just want your hands in his hair n his kisses n his hugs.

- also walking w him also means his hands on your wait. eating dinner w him means sitting side by side w him hand on your lower back or on your thigh. laughing w him mean his body leaning on yours. it's either to show you off or purely because he feels good w you so let him be ᵎ

• respecting him

- in a sense that you should know who you belong to. he is a scorpio man meaning he is possssive AND jealous. he doesn't want to share nor to even let anyone see things only him is privileged to. so if you want to wear certain things u would only be able to wear them for him or when he is here to protect you from others. he wouldn't stop you to wear things you want, but he would prefer you to not to.

- he also won't like it if u go one o one w a man, or texting a man too much. he trust you but not them : his pretty baby is too pretty to be out there in the wild. he would really really appreciate it if you'd ask him to tag along or not go at all. he will get jealous but again wouldn't stop you.

• cooking for him

- it would make his mind all fuzzy seeing ur cooked meals made just for him. he appreciate/ ur effort n your time. he would never forget to kiss you afterwards. even if ur cooking isn't the greatest, it will always be good for him n will never talk down about itᵎ

- and if you can make desserts as well ? oh , he will wife you up the second you'll tell him you'll start making him daily lunch box. would so brag to his members and would even dare to say that your cooking is better than jay's.

how would jake loves you <3

• adores you

- to jake ur his ultimate price, his dream girl, laylas mom, his everything. he will go beyond to make you feel what you are to him. he will only give you his attention, he will stop flirting w people n only do it w you. he will not back down on affectionate affection even tho he looks like the biggest simp he DOESNT CARE. he loves you and will show it to you. dating jake will means feeling like his top priority, which you are.

- he will also voice it out. he will call your beautiful or pretty ten times per hours. that is in front of the member, or in front of your friends and family, thru text, he will never fail to make you feel beautiful because that's simply what you are to him.

• act of service

- THEE golden retriever boy, THEE biggest puppy in earth wouldn't want to do everything for you ?dating him means that open door is foreign to you, zipping up or dress ? ur coat ? leave it up to him. trying up ur shoes ? why would u bend down ur soft princess knees when he is right there ? jake is at your service and will not let you do anything. having bake by ur side, automatically makes you a princess.

• kisses

- he kisses you all the time. good morning kiss good night kiss. your beautiful kiss. goodbye kiss. your cute kiss. he is kissing you all the dayum time. he also loves your reaction out of them, so he would kiss you mid sentence all the time. holding your face in both of his hands, squishing it, pampering every inch of skin he can.

- he prefer to kisses you on your skin rather than your lips tho. it would make him feel like he can protect you hut also find them more romantic. so he would kiss ur forehead in a hug, kiss your nose when your on his lap, kiss your hand when walking on the street. it's those little gestures of love that are veri veri meaningful to him.

• flirting w you

- the cockiest nan alive. the biggest flirt. sim jake is dating you. so be ready to be flustered all the good dayum time or to pretend like i don't like it.

- he will also considère his touch as flirting. hands on your things won't stay out nor his hands on your lower back. he likes seeing your reaction SPECIALLY in front of others, it truly feeds his ego of being YOUR man.

• domestic moments

- jake loves for lazy morning or lazy night, legs tangled together w only giggles n soft kisses. he loves seeing your bareface w ur messy hair not only because ure breathtaking but also because it means that you are comfortable w him. that also mena he can be comfortable w you, as being an idol means being perfect, he can let go w you. your are his new definition of comfort.

- lego dates, baking dates , physic dates, grooming layla dates, shopping dates. you can name anything jake would consider it as one n will enjoy it at the fullest. he enjoy spending his previous time on his precious baby.

jake as your boyfriend hc

notes : how to have a jealous jake by ur side #___#

@imaluckygirl @luvj4key @heeseungswifefr @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @jaeyunpinkyring

#jake sim #sim jaeyun #jake soft hours #sim jake #sim jaeyun fluff #sim jake fluff #jake sim x y/n #jaeyun fluff #jaeyun imagines #jake x y/n #jake sim x reader #jake fluff #jake x reader #jake headcanons #enhypen jake fluff #enhypen fluff #jake enhypen

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darlingdekarios · 8 months

Text

hide and seek.

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 5,555 content: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader, reader is referred to as a codename "Freya" and related nickname from Ghost, smut [fingering - receiving, unprotected p in v, mentions of stomach bulge, creampie, oral - receiving], kink(s) [size, outdoors, slight degradation, praise, squirting, cum eating], not beta/proof read deal w/ it

during a training exercise, the lines between hunter and hunted become blurred, and the feelings that have been buried inside claw their way to the surface.

"You can't hide forever, Freya."

Eight hours and fourteen minutes into a training exercise with Taskforce 101, and the two men who remained were starting to question if the words rumbling through their ear piece were correct. Dropped in the mountains within a ten mile radius of one another, it was a game of hide and seek … each of you taking on both roles simultaneously as you tried to remain hidden while taking out your opponents.

It was an honor system - survival of the fittest. Price, of course, at a camp at the base of the mountain, sending a team out to retrieve those who were picked off. Now it had dwindled - only the three of you remained, and the comms channels had been particularly quiet as time ticked by, each of you convinced you'd prove yourself top of the food chain eventually.

But Ghost's voice had interrupted the quiet, your focus broken for a moment as you halted all of your movements, waiting for the forest to respond to his voice. When nothing close to you alerted you dropped your own voice lower to quip back at his taunting, adjusting your position where you currently crouched.

"Just have to outlive you, LT."

"And Gaz. Don't forget about Gaz."

A smile spread across your lips, backpack sliding off your shoulders and to the ground quietly in an effort to increase your movement radius. Your target was well within sight now, the figure hunched over a jet boil that was working to make him a hot meal without smoke.

"Oh, don't worry. I didn't forget about Gaz."

"Well, I'm still here, so you've still gotta worry about me finding you first," the named man finally responded, his voice echoed from the earpiece and from the figure in front of you, carried between the trees as he gave no effort to hide himself, thinking he was without company.

You were moving forward now, using trunks and bushes for cover, stalking toward prey that remained blissfully unaware that its downfall was close enough to see puffs of cold breath from them.

"Not for long."

From there, it was silence from you, any further conversation a threat to giving away your location the closer you drew to him. You could hear the uptick of worry in his voice immediately when he responded, his focus on dinner shattered as he stood again. There was no possibility of him fleeing now, not with hot equipment to turn off and put away. Instead, he'd have to wait for the inevitable.

"What's that mean?" he questioned, head searching around his perimeter desperately in hope to find you before you could reach him. When his question went unanswered the frustration in his voice increased, a subtle shake indicating he was aware of his mistakes. This game was over for him … now he only needed to wait. "Hey, what's that mean?"

"That doesn't sound good, Gaz."

You were trying to ignore the tone Ghost used now as he spoke … the subtle amusement lingering under his tone only spurring you along more. It was over for Gaz before he had a real chance to react.

"Freya, what does that … FUCK!"

His shout was muffled into your hand as you slid up behind him and covered his mouth, a victorious smirk covering your face. Reaching into the pocket of his jacket you activated a GPS tracker to signify his pickup location, moving around him to look him face-to-face. He gave you a nod of respect before you hurried back to the trees, replacing your equipment and setting off on your next target.

"That's Gaz out," Price's voice was smooth in the comms, ready to set the match into its final round. "Ghost, Freya, you're all that's left. Try not to play with your food too much."

"Hmm."

You wondered if Ghost had an advantage position now, if he was looking to the trees for evidence of Gaz's retrieval, perhaps hopeful for a tip toward your location. You were eager to ensure he'd receive none.

"No promises."

"Once the sun goes over the mountains, you're alone for the night. No comms. It becomes true survival. Understood?"

"Copy," the two of you spoke in unison and Price dropped out again, returning the two of you to your isolated setting. As you hiked forward you found an eagerness filling your stomach … butterflies fluttering around as the prospect of facing Simon in this setting as the victor for this game set in on you. He could hear the smile you wore on your face as you all but purred into the comms.

"See you soon, Ghost."

The confidence in your voice sent a shiver down his spine - something he found becoming a common occurrence whenever you were around. From behind his mask his lips curved into an amused smile, though his tone indicated no such thing when he spoke.

"We'll see about that."

"It'll get cold soon, Frey. Once the sun drops over those mountains …"

It had been just under two more hours since you'd taken Gaz out, and things had mostly been silent. Neither of you wanted to outright give away your locations by something as easily avoidable as not remaining silent, so for the most part you had, only responding to Price quickly when he provided time updates.

"If you're worried about a little cold you could always forfeit, Ghost."

The laugh that rumbled in him came through even lower through a microphone like the one you wore now, and while the sound still set all of your nerves ablaze, you wished you could hear it in person. It was a ridiculous offer - Simon Riley had never forfeited in his life and he wouldn't start now, even if it meant sleeping beneath a layer of snow tonight. It was something about him that pulled you in like a magnet, his proven results time and time again securing your unspoken feelings for him.

Feelings you now couldn't afford to focus on with bragging rights of this size at stake. You were well aware of the possibility that Ghost had an eye on you through a scope - he could already be tracking your every move. You were certain that, knowing him, he would be close - he wouldn't allow his last remaining enemy to stray too far.

You still hoped to use that to your advantage, opting to ignore the cockiness in his words.

"Not a chance."

It was only an hour later that the sun was no longer offering any amount of warmth, the last of its gold and orange hues diluted by the beginnings of the night sky.

"Price did say if we're out past sundown we're out for the night."

"You sound scared, Frey. Don't tell me you're afraid of the dark?"

"Not a chance."

Really, you weren't…not now, anyway with every inch of your body burning with the desire to win. You echoed his earlier words to initiate a playful banter the two of you ever really enjoyed alone, inviting him in to another game with the reminder that now, only the two of you remained on the line. Thankfully he took the bait, catching on quickly to what you silently offered.

"You should be…never know what's lurking about…hiding behind a tree, in the shadows."

To his own internal pleasure, the quiet laugh that he allowed to rumble through his chest was joined with your own, the soft sound sending a rush of warmth through his body. Though he'd never admitted aloud - maybe not even fully to himself mentally, in truth - he craved moments like this with you, where your laugh and your casual tone fell easily on his ears like the chirp of birds in the morning.

Instead, he enjoyed his time with you selfishly, the need he felt within him to enjoy more of you buried inside where it would never see the light.

"Could say the same to you, big guy. What's lurking in the shadows around you?"

There was something in your voice that made the hair on his neck stand, something to the tone that piqued his interest further. You were almost purring - he was starting to wonder if Price's request not to play with food was directed entirely at you now. As he focused on your tone, on his surroundings, on taking in the trees around him and desperately trying to ignore the new tightness in his pants, your eyes were on the finish line.

You had slipped free of your boots and socks again, suffering through the cold ground in an effort to quiet yourself further as you stalked your way to him slowly under the cover of darkness. When you could begin to make out details - the pockets on his jacket and pants, the glimmer of zippers as they caught the remaining light, every curve his silhouette offered…you stilled, enjoying the moment.

His breath was visible - heavier than usual. You couldn't help the rush of pride that filled you at even the slightest hint that you had his nerves alight. How many people could say that about Simon Riley? It was a feeling so fulfilling you were almost tempted to bask in it longer, to savor every microsecond it lasted.

But the promise of his reaction was far too enticing to stay hidden for too long, a fact you succumbed to as you silently took more steps toward him.

"Hey, Simon?"

"Hmm?"

"Boo."

Fortunately the ground was soft enough to aid in the jump you sprung into to wrap your legs around his waist from behind, your arms wrapping around his neck and giving the slightest squeeze to accentuate your point. He'd lost.

"Fuck."

"Concede."

When the order was not immediately fulfilled you squeezed ever so slightly harder, only enough to drive it home. This was a fair win. One you'd earned.

But he wasn't hesitating to find a way out…he'd taken an intentional moment to allow you time to bask in your glory - at least, that was better than admitting he just wanted to feel you closer for a moment longer…for as many moments as you'd allow. Regardless of his own wants and completely focused on what would make you happy (though he could already feel it radiating from you), he forced himself to not, a deep breath filling his lungs as you released him.

When you climbed down and he turned to face you, the grin that had spread across your face fell open. In preparation for the dark Simon had already removed his glasses, leaving his sparkling eyes bare for you to see, more of his face exposed now in his balaclava than you'd ever been treated to before.

(Though it was hardly enough. Your curiosity about what would greet you beneath the black fabric grew by the day…by the second now as you made eye contact like you'd never been able to before.)

In the depths of his eyes your own pride was matched, telling you enough about his thoughts on your win that the words could truly go unspoken. He studied you carefully, enjoying the curve to your lips as a coy smirk and how somehow still, despite the pride, a neediness flooded behind it all, something as primal and feral as the forest's inhabitants.

"How long have you been on me?"

"Right after I picked up Gaz, he was trailing you from the southeast."

The mask's fabric shifted confirming the light smile that played on his lips, his eyes burning into yours now. As intense as his gaze was (it always was, why should now be any exception?) you were lost it in, searching for a hint of what he was thinking…what he was feeling. He was an expert at this - at hiding, at interrogating, he could easily pick you apart and have the answers he wanted flowing from you with only a little more effort.

With you, however, it required no intimidation to coax what he wanted from you.

"You could've caught up before sundown, then," it was a simple statement, his eyes not leaving yours as he took a knee on his sleeping pack before you, digging in his bag for a small towel and a fresh pair of socks. He motioned for you to take a seat on the rock he'd set up camp next to, nodding in appreciation when you adhered. "Your pace is faster than that."

You hadn't known him very long - you weren't even technically part of the task force as it stood. It has been almost a year, however…nearly twelve months of knowing the man who now knelt before you, carefully wiping mud from your feet and handling you like you would shatter if he wasn't softer than a hummingbird's feather. You didn't know what to expect of physical contact from him…but this degree of gentleness was certainly not it until this moment.

You thanked him for his delicacy by ensuring your eyes never left his face, eager to meet his gaze again whenever his found you again.

"Could've, yeah," you confirmed when he started to slip the warm socks onto your feet, his attention now nearly fully returned to maintaining eye contact with you. You were aware that with each passing moment your heart was beating faster…even more aware that you couldn't stop it even if you tried. "You could've tried to track me."

"Could've done."

"Why didn't you?"

He was still on his knees in front of you - in fact, there was no sign he intended to move now.

"Wanted to see how long it took you to find me. Wanted to see how you'd approach."

You'd never heard his voice like this - so quiet it offered no disruption to the peaceful mountains around you. Not quiet like he normally was to avoid an enemy, quiet to pinpoint that the words were only for you. As if you needed another reason to be attracted to him - as if the very definition of perfection could get any better.

"Did you find my methods satisfactory?"

The longer his eyes burned into yours the easier it was to ignore the dropping temperatures in the air around you.

"I did."

His praise - even just that was enough to be considered such - struck you to your core. You found yourself speechless, your face burning. Unaware for a moment as one of his hands rested against your knee, uncaring that you probably looked foolish as all you could do now was stare. He was willing to hold your gaze for as long as you offered it - a dangerous fact.

"If you're trying to prove yourself to Price, you don't need t' put yourself at more a risk of injury to do it. Proper footwear is important."

"I'm not proving myself to Price. I'm proving myself to you."

He'd been choosing to ignore the signs from you - opting for the safety of denying what was transpiring between the two of you now for the security it provided. It seemed those days were gone - even the air around you seemed to be pushing the two of you together.

Still, this was a territory he'd convinced himself was forbidden, and in his internal fight as to how to move forward it allowed you a moment of doubt. It was you who spoke again before he got the chance, eager to explain your actions further.

Not that you owed it or he expected it…you needed it now to fill the silence.

"I wanted to hear it from you…that I bested you," he could hear the doubt blossoming on the back of your words - it wasn't like you to share like this, it was much safer to keep things to yourself. But if you did that forever, he would as well…and the reality was, you were more willing to break the unspoken rule with yourself before he was. "I wanted to hear the pride in your voice. To see it in your eyes."

His eyes found yours again as he reached a hand toward your face, hesitating for a moment just centimeters away to give you the chance to slap his hand away, waiting for any action from you that confirmed the doubts ever-present in the back of his mind. Instead, ever so subtly your head leaned closer to his hand, inviting the distance to be closed.

All the signs were there, and now he just had to read them.

He grasped your chin between his fingers and held you gently as he drew closer to you, his free hand reaching up to push the bottom half of his mask up. His lips were more inviting than any you'd seen before - it was a cruelty that he covered them, a gift at the same time to your focus.

(For the record - you'd gladly sacrifice your focus if it meant watching his tongue run across his bottom lip. A momentary lapse of your attention was well worth witnessing the way he invited you in now.)

"Who knew you could be so needy?" he questioned, his tongue swiping across his lips again, finger tapping your chin playfully. That alone sent you clenching around nothing - just that taunting question was enough to fully spiral you into desire. "Why don't you tell me why you kept us out here after dark first?"

Your face was burning - every inch of you was burning. Simon was an intelligent man - your plan to string the game along longer hardly a secret now. It was your turn to concede - he'd found you out. Somehow, you couldn't even begin to remotely care.

"For this. This moment alone."

He had come so close now that the distance between your lips could hardly be considered decent. With the smallest movement either of you could have closed it - a kiss both of you had long awaited in silence a promise now.

"Are you hoping for a reward?"

Your mouth had never been this dry and you could only nod, savoring the way his free hand now ran up your side, urging you forward slightly. He began to lean closer, slower than you'd ever seen him move before, to demonstrate where he intended to go, hoping you would follow his lead - hoping you could be the one to initiate what was to come.

"Use your words."

"Yes."

Like a flock of birds startled by a sound too loud cracking in the night like thunder you came crashing together like lightning, his lips finding yours like they'd already done so a thousand times before now. With his strength he had you on your feet and against a tree in the time it took for a gasp to fall from your mouth. He paused, dark gaze softening briefly as he waited for you to give any sort of show that you wanted him to stop. When you didn't, his lips finally claimed yours as your hands pulled him in firmer by grasping his collar.

It was heated - both of you had waited for this moment while simultaneously avoiding it since you'd met, but now that it was here it demanded everything from you - the kiss itself was all-consuming. As your lips and tongues danced together both of you allowed your hands to explore under shirts as best you could. His hands engulfed you - any part of you he grabbed was with as much as he could possibly get his hands on, noticeably holding himself back from grasping tighter in an effort to spare you from bruises.

Until your nails ran down his abs hard enough to leave red trails in their place and he took the unsaid words as further permission, his finger tips digger into your hips harder as he leaned more of his weight against you, truly pinning you to the tree. He gave you a moment to breathe - your vision blurred as you blinked up at him, eager to see the swirls of color in his eyes this close but still hopelessly wanton for his mouth on you some more.

A light smirk played on his lips at your expression - pupils and eyes wide and your already swollen lips remained parted, desperate and shallow breaths falling from your lips. He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth before trailing his lips to your jaw, dragging them back until he reached your ear with a gentle nip at the lobe.

"'s this what you wanted, dove?"

You could hear the desire fueling his words and could only whimper and nod in response as his lips connected to your neck, one of his hands releasing its hold on your hip to unhook the button of your pants. His lips reached lower, beneath where a collar would normally sit on you to suck a spot that raised goosebumps all across your skin as your zipper was undone. You realized you'd yet to give him the verbal response he probably required and it came from your chest as a broken moan as his hand slipped into your pants, pushing your underwear to the side.

"Y-yes, sir."

It was his turn to groan now, his fingers spreading your folds to spread the slick that had already started to leak from you. He bit into the spot he'd been paying attention to, uncaring if it left a mark for others to see in more casual settings, savoring the gasp and moan that fell from your lips and the way your hands desperately clawed at his sides to hold you to earth as your hips bucked forward, his fingers teasing your entrance as they did.

"Fuckin' soaked already, eh, love?" his taunt was directly below your ear followed by a loving swipe of his tongue, uncaring of the sweat that had gathered on your skin throughout the day and cherishing everything you had to offer. His fingers traced your hole slowly, teasing you with the slightest entrance several times before he continued. "I've barely touched you, y'filthy girl…"

You could once again only whimper as two of his fingers slipped inside of you with a quiet 'tsktsktsk' sounding against his teeth, his muttered words of praise and degradation muddled by your hazy mind as he stretched you open. He was well attuned to what your body responded to, pumping the thick digits into your tight sex with the perfect speed, rubbing against the most sensitive and velvet part of your walls perfectly each time to pull more moans from you.

His lips found yours again when he was satisfied you'd finally caught your breath enough to meet you in another bruising kiss, his hand that wasn't focused on fucking your cunt reaching to work his own pants partially down his thighs, freeing his throbbing cock with a grunt. You could tell by the speed to which his fingers entering you picked up and the rough grasp on one of your hands that he needed you just as desperately, guiding your hand to his cock and groaning again into your mouth as you wrapped your hand around his thick shaft, stroking his length tenderly.

As you continued to ensure your hand paid attention to every inch of him available he worked your pants down, making sure to quietly ask you if you were too cold in doing so and rewarding you with a gentler kiss and pressing closer to you when you shook your head. You could feel an orgasm building in you heavily and he picked up on the cues your body provided like it was something he'd been doing for a long time already, pumping his fingers faster as he continued to relentlessly kiss you.

"Go on, then," he coaxed against your lips, still not pulling away enough to give you a chance to suck in a full breath. You were dizzy, vision blurred already as every cell in your body focused on finding release. "Get nice and messy for me to fuck you."

It was that promise that sent you over the edge, the first wave of euphoria crashing over you and blinding your vision as you gushed around his fingers, the sloppy sounds of them entering your spasming repeatedly bringing a smile to his lips. He gave you the chance to breathe finally, releasing you from his kiss as his fingers abandoned your white hot core, hands grasping your hips to lift you upward. You realized your hand had fallen away from his cock as you'd worked through the initial hit of your orgasm and reached for it again, guiding it between the folds of your pussy and guiding it back and worth as he situated you between him and the tree, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist.

You were closer to his face now and could see the emotions in his eyes more - the hunger and need that filled him pouring from his expression and accentuated by a groan as your slick was spread over his cock. His words were barely more than a growl - the conflict deep behind each one only evident because you understood him. "Shouldn't…fuck you raw, dove. Such a bad fuckin' idea…"

You whined to communicate your dissatisfaction, already desperate to feel every inch of him buried in you and logic chased from your mind this soon after one orgasm had rushed through you. You reached between your bodies to rub your thumb over the pre-cum leaking from his swollen cock, grinding against him more. He was coated in your slick already - the fact he could slip into you with enough aid from just that unfocusing his mind.

"Need you, Simon…"

Of course it was his name on your lips that silenced his worries - that completely erased them. He adjusted quickly and with one swift movement his cock was stretching you, splitting you open on inch after inch as his lips found yours again. It was a fact that his length was too much for you to take in full, one you ignored happily and in a moderate state of drunken bliss until he'd bottomed out in you, tip pushing against your cervix. One of his hands remained attached to your hip and the other reached to press against your stomach and the bulge, adding to the pressure seated in your core so much you already started seeing stars again.

"Y'okay, princess?"

Any other time you'd have snipped at him not to call you that, but now as he muttered it in a slightly higher pitch, his whisper desperate and light against your lips you couldn't bring yourself to mind the name - with his cock buried in you you only nodded in response. His eyes met yours again before he leaned his forehead against yours, giving you a moment to focus on the feeling of his pulling his cock out from your velvet walls slowly.

He waited for a moment, teasing you with a delicate kiss to your bottom lip before he sheathed himself into you fully again with one swift thrust, hand pressing down against your stomach again. The sound of your pussy accepting him in with a squelch combined with the moan that ripped from your chest was pornographic and addicting, and he immediately entered a bruising pace to repeat it as much as he could - greedily working for another release from you.

You were thankful that his resolve had completed melted away as he got lost in the feeling of your cunt squeezing his cock on each entry, moans and grunts repeatedly falling from his lips as he fucked into you. While most of his hand stayed pressed against his own bulge inside you he reached his thumb down to your clit to rub the swollen nub, eagerly claiming your mouth again with his tongue when a moan erupted from it.

He continued his efforts relentlessly but gave you another break to breathe to lower his head to your neck again, kissing a trail down to your collarbone where he nibbled lightly, testing how the added stimulation would effect you. Despite the repeated moans and whimpers falling from your lips - it wasn't enough from him, the need to push you over the edge and prove to you the months of this building was worth it fueling his movements with primal need.

His hold on your hip became harder as his speed increased, thrusting into you desperately and rough. Distantly you could hear him praising you repeatedly as your walls began to squeeze his length tighter, mumbling quiet words of appreciation into your skin interchangeably between biting and licking and sucking. When your legs began to shake around him, he knew you were close and while he could've continued on just how he was he pressed for more, fucking into your harder with bruising thrusts into you.

(In the morning you'd remark that he could've taken it easier on you considering you had a hell of a hike back to camp and it would only be worse with a bruised cervix and hips. He'd only offer you a smirk as he remarked the pain would be good for you.

But he'd carry you for however long you asked him to if it was too much.)

"That's it, dove," he cooed, adjusting to look into your face again. "Want you to cum on my cock…want to see how messy we can make you, yeah?"

You nodded, vision blurred as you met his eyes again, eager to see the gaze of adoration he was now offering to you. His lips twisted into a smirk at the sight of your mouth hanging open, a bit of drool running down your chin - something you hadn't noticed and would've felt embarrassed over if he hadn't leaned forward and greedily swiped at it with his tongue, kissing you deeply again.

It was then that a second orgasm was pulled from you - but between the stimulation of the head of his cock rubbing against the perfect spot inside you, his thumb circling your clit, and his lips kissing you as though it was life sustaining this time your release squirted from you, your release coating his cock, waist, and thighs. A low groan rumbled in his chest and his speed picked up again, savoring the feeling of your walls clenching around him and milking his own release from him.

He opened his mouth to try to warn you it was coming - a lost cause when you abandoned his kiss to attach your lips to his neck and jaw, lightly nipping and licking at several sensitive spots that were typically covered to the world. He grasped your hip tighter and stilled his movements otherwise as he filled you with his release, his hot seed creating such a large load that it was already leaking from you around him.

You continued to kiss on his jaw as you both came down again, Simon waiting until he was certain you wouldn't fall before he removed his length from you, gently lowering you back to the ground. His eyes remained transfixed on your combined releases leaking down your thighs for a moment, conflicting emotions once again flooding his expression as he gazed at you. Just as you opened your mouth to ask if he was okay he dropped to his knees, using one hand pressed against your stomach to pin you to the tree again as the other lifted one of your legs over his shoulder.

He leaned forward to lick each of your thighs clean - you wished he'd removed his mask briefly so you could tangle your fingers in his hair, the thought was abandoned when he leaned forward fully to connect his flattened tongue to your folds, licking a slow stripe through them gently. You gasped and grasped at what you could, landing on holding the hand over your stomach and the back of his head, anchoring him to you.

He was happy to accept the way you pulled his head forward, burying it into your cunt more until his nose was pressed to your clit. His tongue found your hole and fucked into it, greedily slurping in as much of your releases as he could. It was entirely too much the way he swirled his tongue and sucked against you hungrily, but you still couldn't silence the loud cry of disappointment when his mouth abandoned you only to stand and kiss you again, silencing your whine with his tongue sharing what he hadn't swallowed for himself already.

When he released you again he leaned his forehead against yours, a lazy smirk spread across his lips that matched the smug energy radiating from him. With a shaking voice you quipped at him, unashamed of what he'd reduced you to and completely pleased with how your plan had come to fruition.

"Price told us not to play with our food."

The way his laugh huffed from him in his breathless state was intoxicating, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip briefly catching your gaze and transfixing you again.

"What Price doesn't know won't hurt him.

masterlist. call of duty masterlist.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty smut #simon ghost riley x reader

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vent-stink · 24 days

Text

Y/n's Adoption

a/n: I don't proofread these things c/w: fluff pairings: owner!Seonghwa x cat hybrid!reader, cat hybrid!San x reader word count: 2.3k

Seonghwa and San had lived together for a long time. San was his muscle-clad, clingy kitty. Humble, respectful, strong, and even sometimes shy and cute, Seonghwa couldn't help but adore him. However, due to his intimidating stature and shy nature, it was hard for him to make a lot of friends and Seonghwa noticed that San had become a little lonely.

Seonghwa didn't go to shelters often. He, himself, was more than satisfied with having San by his side alone, and he often didn't find a hybrid that he thought would mesh well with his own.

But that all changed when he saw her. Perked white ears, fluffy slow-swaying tail, and pink bell collar, you gave the volunteer the most doe-eyed look, a little pout forming on your bottom lip as you tried to convince the woman to give you a skirt instead of her shorts.

"No one will want me in these clothes," she sniffed, "You said my name is princess, but I don't know a princess who wears these big ugly shorts!"

Seonghwa chuckled at her plight, imagining her in cute little sweaters and skirts with a longing sigh. He came closer and you looked at him, interested glowing behind irises.

"Welcome, sir, is there anything I can assist you with?" the volunteer asked when she saw him approach.

"Would it be okay if you took this one out for me to play with?" he asked and the volunteer smirked at the kitty hybrid who looked at this mysterious and beautiful man with shock.

"Oh, absolutely. You can sit in Kennel number 2 over there and I'll bring her out. Seonghwa followed instructions, and before he knew it, the kitten in basketball shorts was sitting in front of him, cautious. He should have figured that your complaints were null in front of a potential buyer. Does she even have the same charm if she changes her personality in front of me?

She scooted a little closer, breaking him from his thoughts. On her knees in front of him, she put her hand on his knee, looking up at his face.

"You are very pretty," She said in awe.

Seonghwa almost barked out the laugh that came out of him, not expecting her to say that. He let her sniff his hand, and she quickly had him petting her head. "You're very pretty, too. Who dare put you in such clothes? You should be in little dresses and skirts," He said. She purred, agreeing with him. "Mhmm," She nodded.

"Do you like other hybrids?" Seonghwa asked. She stopped and frowned, "Um... none of the hybrids here are nice to me... so I don't know... I want to be their friend, but I'm always in and out of here and they don't get adopted so they don't like me..."

Seonghwa frowned at the information, "Why are you in and out of here?"

She mirrored his expression. If she had to explain why people kept sending her back there was no way he'd adopt her. Seonghwa sensed that and stroked her cheek, "It's okay, you can tell me."

She let out a breath. "They like me because I'm pretty and nice, but other kitty hybrids are so...independent... they called me too clingy and too much work..." her lip wobbled and Seonghwa brought her in for a hug, "That's no reason to send you back, every hybrid is different, they shouldn't have expected you to be what they think is normal," Seonghwa reassured her, "My San is clingy too, not all the time, but I wouldn't have cared even if he was."

"Would he like me?" She asked, but covered her mouth, "I'm sorry, you didn't say you'd-"

"I want to," He chuckled, "I think you're so sweet and so pretty, and I don't mind if you're clingy. Good girls give their owners lots of attention."

Her tail swayed at the term, and he continued, "San isn't unhappy but I can tell he's lonely. If you're clingy, I think he'd love it. I'd love it, too."

She laid her head in his lap, quiet. She didn't want to jinx anything by speaking.

Seonghwa had to be honest with himself. If she and San really didn't get along, there was no way he would keep her, even if his heart wanted her so bad. His chest was twisting uncomfortably at the thought of giving her hope and ultimately bringing her back like so many others had done before. She was so sweet and he wanted her, but he didn't want to hurt her.

When the silence started to make her anxious, she lifted her head and grabbed his hands, "Please take me home with you, pretty mister." Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as she sniffed, "If your San doesn't like me you can bring me back, I won't be mad at you, so if you don't mind me loving you too much, please, please, bring me home."

She was very convincing. Before they both knew it, the papers were signed, and she was sitting cross-legged in the back seat of his car, calm on the outside, but her stomach was doing excited flips on the inside.

"I will give it a week," Seonghwa said to her softly, "If San is going to get along with you at all, he definitely will in one week at most. Otherwise..." He didn't have to say it, she understood. She gripped the strap of the seatbelt in anticipation. She knew the stakes of making San like her. It was going to be hard. As much as she wanted to be ambitious with her new housemate, many attempts with others had failed, and she worried that she wasn't going to be able to bring herself to do anything, and if he didn't like her, she wouldn't be able to convince him.

She swallowed her doubts down for now. She really really liked Seonghwa. He had been the nicest and most respectful person to adopt her so far and, to top it all off, the prettiest. She didn't want to go back to the shelter.

When they arrived at Seonghwa's home, Seonghwa held y/n's hand comfortingly. He really hoped San liked her, because he really really liked y/n, too.

"San, I have a surprise!" Seonghwa said when he came inside. He hoped he wasn't blindsiding San too badly. San could smell that Seonghwa had started visiting shelters recently, even if they hadn't talked about getting a new hybrid, but he didn't think his owner would actually get through with it.

So, true to Seonghwa's announcement, San was really surprised.

When he and y/n made eye-contact, she waved and smiled at him, but he just stared, maintaining eye contact for an awkward about of time before San finally looked at Seonghwa, blinking incredulously. "Really?"

"Come on," Seonghwa attempted to start reasoning with him, but he huffed. This was unlike San, considering that he was usually very respectful with Seonghwa's guests, but this was different. This was a new housemate. He would have to live with her and share his owner's attention with her.

And the fact that she was clinging to Seonghwa so tightly just ticked him off. Was she scared or something? A child? Why did she have to cling to him so much? San was definitely unhappy.

"H-hi... my name is y/n," she said to him, letting go of Seonghwa's arm for a moment to bow. San returned the bow with only his neck making Seonghwa twitch a little at the deliberate disrespect, but he let it go, knowing that this was a big change to introduce to him so suddenly.

"This is San, y/n, my cat hybrid I told you about," Seonghwa said, "He's very nice, but he's been my only hybrid for a long time, so this is as scary for him as it is for you." Seonghwa said this to y/n but was also trying to convey to San that he understood his concerns, but still wanted him to make an effort. San understood, but that didn't make him warm up to the idea right away.

They coexisted for the next few days, sure. Seonghwa took a couple days off from work just so he could mediate and supervise the two hybrids for that time, but he wondered if that was really working out for him considering that y/n was only at his side all day, making San glare at her with jealousy raging in his eyes. Usually, he'd be the one to wake Seonghwa up or climb into his bed if he happened to feel like it, but now she was always there, in his bed or on his lap or at his feet. Seonghwa even gave her extra attention, dressing her up in cute little outfits. San felt like she was pushing him out.

In reality, she was just worried that if she didn't stick by Seonghwa, she'd end up being iced out. She wanted to make an effort with San, but with Seonghwa around as her security blanket, she couldn't push herself to leave him. San never said anything rude to her, but the hostility was definitely understood.

Seonghwa had no choice but to leave for work. He worried about leaving y/n and San alone together, but he sucked it up, giving the cat hybrid in his bed a kiss on the forehead before going to San's room, giving him a few loving pats as he slept before finally leaving for work.

Y/n tried to go back to sleep, having woken up the moment Seonghwa's presence had left her. The first night she arrived, Seonghwa attempted to give her a room, but she ended up not being able to sleep without someone near, resulting in Seonghwa allowing her to sleep in his bed. He didn't complain since y/n proved, after the first night, that she was a comfortable and considerate bed-mate.

So, when he had to leave, there was no way she could fall asleep again. He'd left pretty early, too, so she was too tired to start the day. She ended up getting up from bed, seeing the door to San's room cracked open from when Seonghwa had been in there and decided to peek in. San was in there, dead asleep and hugging a pillow. She came in and sat by the side of his bed on her knees, just watching him sleep and listening to his soft breaths. It was actually lulling her own eyes to close and she jerked when she felt herself about to fall.

She ended up getting in bed behind him, curled up and back to back, just feeling the warmth of someone else next to her. Paired with the consistent sound of his breath, she found herself unconscious in no time.

When San finally stirred awake, he realized that he wasn't alone in his bed, shooting up and turning to find the new family member in his bed, cutely sleeping, having made herself as small as possible as to not take too much of his space or make him uncomfortable.

He couldn't deny that having someone else in his bed made him feel warm. Usually it was Seonghwa, but that was on rare occasion. Seonghwa didn't always like San bothering him at night (Seonghwa had determined that he wasn't as considerate of a sleeper as y/n). Even now, she was trying her best to accommodate him, not knowing that he loved skinship.

He turned around, abandoning the pillow that he had been hugging, instead putting in her arms to grab unconsciously, and wrapped his arms around her waist instead, snuggling his face into the crook of her neck. Her body relaxed, uncurling a little as San comfortably cuddled with her, awake.

When the sun finally woke her up, she realized that she was engulfed by San's smell and his arms and she left out a breath of relief, pushing herself into him.

"You're cute," he mumbled into her neck, placing a small kiss and then a lick there. She spoke softly, "I'm sorry I came when you were sleeping. Mr. Seonghwa went to work and I couldn't sleep by myself..."

"It's okay," San murmured, all the hostility from the last three days melting, "You can come to me anytime you like."

They didn't leave each other's arms all day save for when they had to eat. San grilled up some meat for the both of them and they sat side by side, feeding each other.

Seonghwa came home to them cuddling on the couch, San laying on the couch with y/n lips firmly attached to his neck. He was floored to say the least. One day he was gone and the two had gotten so close."

San greeted him lazily from the couch, arms tightening around y/n to keep her from moving away from him like he knew he would when she realized Seonghwa was there. She tried, but his muscles kept her trapped and she gave up with a huff. Seonghwa chuckled, walking into her line of sight so that she could greet him. Smiling cheek pressed against San's chest, her tail twitched happily, "I missed you!"

It was hard to prove how much she truly had missed Seonghwa when trapped against San, but Seonghwa believed her, happy that the companion he'd adopted for San worked out so perfectly. When San finally did let her go, she jumped into Seonghwa's arms, giving him a sweet kiss on the lips to welcome him home. When San gave him kisses he usually avoided the lips, so it was a welcomed surprise to receive her affection in such a way.

She still spent her nights with Seonghwa, still not being able to sleep at night without him around, but when the sun was out she was in San's arms and kissing him anywhere she could reach and at any opportunity. Despite the inital surprise Seonghwa had when he first witnessed them cuddling, now he didn't bat an eye when he saw them touch lips, or even when they eventually started to obscenely make out anywhere they felt like it in the house.

Seonghwa was just happy that he finally found a hybrid that made San happy, and unintentionally made him happy, too.

#ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez fluff #atz #choi san #choi san x reader #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #san x reader #ateez hybrid au #hybrid ateez

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