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not-brionnne · 7 hours
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the desire to be the kicked dog may not be so much about the kicking but its significance, i.e. that i serve any necessary function to my owner no matter how cruel and cathartic, and that i am thus an indispensable treasure either in my inability to break or my ability to break and yet perpetually return at the sound of your call. in this way you may absolve yourself of the violence you commit by reimagining it not just as merciful, but as productive; if i am the kicked dog, then you create me and give me life through violence, with the act of kicking not a destruction so much as a form of birth. anyways it's fine. put the boots on
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not-brionnne · 8 hours
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not-brionnne · 8 hours
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Does anyone want to bite down into my shoulder while they fuck me? I promise I'll whimper and moan about it.
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not-brionnne · 8 hours
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the desire to be the kicked dog may not be so much about the kicking but its significance, i.e. that i serve any necessary function to my owner no matter how cruel and cathartic, and that i am thus an indispensable treasure either in my inability to break or my ability to break and yet perpetually return at the sound of your call. in this way you may absolve yourself of the violence you commit by reimagining it not just as merciful, but as productive; if i am the kicked dog, then you create me and give me life through violence, with the act of kicking not a destruction so much as a form of birth. anyways it's fine. put the boots on
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not-brionnne · 1 day
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Cockwarming Ranpo 😵
temptation // edogawa ranpo
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tw ⇢ mutual pining, food kink(?), teasing, fingering, making out, office sex, cockwarming, public sex, exhibitionism, punishment sex, squirting, dirty talking, unprotected sex
wc ⇢ 5.2k
a/n: when i say public sex i mean public sex
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Ranpo Edogawa, the brilliant and eccentric detective of the Armed Detective Agency, was renowned not only for his unparalleled deductive skills but also for his insatiable sweet tooth. His desk was a veritable treasure trove of confections, always stocked with an assortment of colorful candies, decadent chocolates, and exotic sweets from around the world. Each treat was carefully chosen to satisfy his discerning palate, and Ranpo took great pride in his collection.
On this particular day, Ranpo returned to the office after cracking a particularly challenging case. The thrill of the solve still buzzed in his veins, and he couldn't wait to celebrate with his newest acquisition - a box of rare and exquisite truffles from a world-famous chocolatier. He had pulled a few strings and called in some favors to get his hands on these delicacies, and he had been saving them for a special occasion.
As he approached his desk, Ranpo's anticipation grew with each step. He could almost taste the rich, velvety ganache, the smooth dark chocolate shell, and the subtle notes of exotic spices that he knew would dance across his tongue. His fingers twitched with eagerness as he reached for the small, gilded box that housed his precious truffles.
But as Ranpo's gaze fell upon his desk, his excited smile faltered. The box was nowhere to be seen. He frowned, his brow furrowing as he scanned the cluttered surface, hoping that perhaps he had simply misplaced it among the scattered papers and empty candy wrappers. But no matter how hard he looked, the box remained elusive.
A sinking feeling began to settle in Ranpo's stomach as he considered the possibilities. He distinctly remembered placing the box on his desk before stepping out to discuss a case with the Agency's president, Yukichi Fukuzawa. It had only been a brief meeting, no more than fifteen minutes, but apparently, that had been enough time for someone to make off with his prized possession.
Little did Ranpo know that, just moments before, you had been passing by his desk on your way to the file room. A glint of gold had caught your eye, and curiosity got the better of you. You paused, your gaze drawn to the small, ornate box that sat among the clutter of candy wrappers and case files.
Unable to resist the temptation, you reached out and picked up the box, marveling at the intricate design etched into the gold. Your fingers traced the delicate lines, and you could almost feel the promise of something special hidden within.
Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, you carefully lifted the lid, your eyes widening as they fell upon the most exquisite truffles you had ever seen. The rich, dark chocolate glistened in the light, and the aroma that wafted up from the box was nothing short of heavenly.
Without thinking, you plucked one of the truffles from the box and brought it to your lips. The moment the chocolate touched your tongue, your eyes fluttered closed in pure bliss. The truffle seemed to melt in your mouth, the velvety ganache coating your taste buds with a symphony of flavors - rich, dark cocoa, a hint of smoky vanilla, and a subtle note of something exotic that you couldn't quite place.
Engrossed in the heavenly flavors dancing on your tongue, you were oblivious to the sound of approaching footsteps. It wasn't until the realization hit you that you snapped out of your reverie, your eyes widening in alarm as they darted to the half-eaten box of truffles. Panic rising in your chest, you hastily snatched up the incriminating evidence and placed it on your desk, frantically trying to conceal it behind a towering stack of papers. With your heart pounding in your ears, you attempted to compose yourself, hoping against hope that your indulgence would go unnoticed.
Ranpo's mind began to race, his brilliant deductive skills kicking into high gear as he considered the potential culprits. The Armed Detective Agency was a small, tight-knit group, and he couldn't imagine any of his colleagues stooping so low as to steal his sweets. But then again, he had made no secret of his excitement over these particular truffles. Perhaps the temptation had been too much for someone to resist.
As he stood there, lost in thought, a flicker of movement caught Ranpo's eye. He turned just in time to see you, his fellow detective and secret crush, hurrying past his desk, your arms laden with files. There was a peculiar expression on your face, a mix of guilt and nervousness that immediately piqued Ranpo's interest.
His eyes narrowed as he studied you, taking in the slight flush of your cheeks and the way you avoided his gaze. It was then that he noticed the smudge of chocolate at the corner of your mouth, a telltale sign of your transgression.
Ranpo felt a surge of emotions - surprise, betrayal, and a strange, unexpected thrill. He had always admired your intelligence and your kind heart, but he had never imagined you capable of such a daring act. The thought of you, his sweet and innocent colleague, succumbing to the temptation of his forbidden truffles sent a shiver down his spine.
He knew he should be angry, or at the very least, annoyed. But as he watched you disappear into the file room, your shoulders hunched and your steps hurried, Ranpo couldn't help but feel a spark of something else entirely. It was a feeling he had been trying to ignore for months now, a warmth that spread through his chest whenever you were near.
Ranpo had always prided himself on his ability to remain detached, to keep his emotions in check and his heart guarded. But there was something about you that made him want to break all his rules. And now, with this unexpected turn of events, he couldn't help but wonder if fate had handed him the perfect opportunity.
A slow, mischievous smile spread across Ranpo's face as he settled into his chair, his fingers steepled under his chin. He had a plan, a deliciously wicked plan that would not only allow him to exact his revenge but also to explore the tantalizing possibility of something more with you.
He leaned back, his eyes glinting with anticipation as he waited for you to return. The game was on, and Ranpo was determined to savor every moment of it. After all, he knew better than anyone that the sweetest victories were often the ones that required a little bit of risk.
As the minutes ticked by, Ranpo's mind raced with possibilities. He couldn't deny the thrill that ran through him at the thought of confronting you, of seeing the shock and guilt in your eyes as he revealed your crime. But even more than that, he was intrigued by the idea of what might come next.
Ranpo had always been a master of reading people, of seeing beneath the surface and unraveling the secrets that others tried to hide. And in that moment, as he replayed the scene of your hurried escape over and over in his mind, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to your actions than mere temptation.
He thought back to all the times he had caught you watching him, your gaze lingering just a little too long when you thought he wasn't looking. He remembered the way you always seemed to find an excuse to be near him, to brush against him in passing or to lean in close when you spoke. At the time, he had dismissed it as simple admiration, or perhaps even a bit of hero worship. But now, in light of your bold move, he couldn't help but wonder if there was something deeper at play.
The sound of footsteps in the hallway pulled Ranpo from his musings, and he sat up straighter in his chair, his heart beating just a little bit faster. He knew it was you, could sense your presence like a physical force as you drew closer to his desk.
When you finally rounded the corner, your arms now empty of files, Ranpo was ready. He fixed you with a piercing stare, his lips curled in a knowing smirk as he watched the color drain from your face. You froze in place, your eyes wide and your mouth slack as you realized that you had been caught.
"Well, well, well," Ranpo drawled, his voice low and smooth as honey. "If it isn't my favorite little truffle thief."
You swallowed hard, your fingers twisting together in a nervous gesture as you tried to find your words. "Ranpo, I... I can explain," you stammered, your cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red.
But Ranpo held up a hand, silencing your protests with a single, elegant gesture. "Oh, I'm sure you can," he said, his eyes glinting with mischief. "But I'm not interested in excuses. I'm interested in retribution."
He stood up slowly, unfolding his lean frame from the chair with a grace that was almost feline. You watched him warily, your heart pounding in your chest as he stalked closer, his gaze never leaving yours.
When he was close enough to touch, Ranpo reached out and traced the smudge of chocolate at the corner of your mouth with his thumb. You shivered at the contact, your breath catching in your throat as he brought his thumb to his own lips and licked it clean.
"Mmm," he hummed, his eyes fluttering closed in a moment of bliss. "Just as delicious as I imagined. But then again, everything tastes better when it's stolen, doesn't it?"
Your mouth went dry at the implication in his words, and you felt a rush of heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment. "Ranpo," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to-"
But once again, Ranpo silenced you with a look. "Oh, I know exactly what you meant to do," he said, his voice dropping an octave as he leaned in closer. "And now, my dear, you're going to make it up to me."
Your eyes widened at the promise in his words, and you felt a thrill of excitement that mingled with the guilt in your stomach. You had always admired Ranpo, had always been drawn to his brilliant mind and his mischievous charm. But you had never dared to hope that he might feel the same way about you.
Now, as he stood before you, his eyes dark with a heat that made your knees weak, you couldn't help but wonder if perhaps your impulsive act of thievery had been a blessing in disguise.
"Do you have any idea how rare and expensive those truffles are?" he asked, his voice still low but with an undercurrent of something that made your heart skip a beat. "I had to call in a lot of favors to get my hands on them."
You bit your lip, your gaze dropping to the floor as shame washed over you. "I'm so sorry, Ranpo," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "I didn't know. I'll...I'll buy you more, I promise. Whatever it takes to make this right."
Ranpo was silent for a long moment, and you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, studying you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, almost thoughtful. "No, I don't think that will be necessary," he said, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I have a better idea."
You looked up, surprised and a little wary. "What...what do you mean?" you asked, your heart pounding in your chest as Ranpo took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours.
"I think," he murmured, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face, gently tucking it behind your ear , "that you owe me a favor. A very special favor, to make up for the truffles you've stolen."
Your breath caught in your throat at the touch of his fingers on your skin, and the suggestive edge to his words. "What kind of favor?" you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
Ranpo's smile widened, and there was a glint of something wicked in his eyes. "Oh, I have a few ideas," he said, his hand dropping to your waist and pulling you closer. "But first, I think we should finish what you started."
And with that, he leaned in and captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to taste the lingering sweetness of the truffle. You melted into the kiss, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair as you lost yourself in the sensation of his lips on yours.
When he finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your cheeks flushed and your eyes hazy with desire. "Delicious," Ranpo murmured, licking his lips with a satisfied smile. "But I think I need a little more to fully appreciate the flavor."
He plucked the box of truffles from your desk and set it on his own, then took your hand and led you over to his chair. With a gentle but insistent pressure, he guided you down onto his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you close.
"Now," he said, his breath hot against your ear as he nuzzled your neck. "Let's see if we can find a way to make this punishment a little more...enjoyable, shall we?"
Your heart raced at the promise in his words, and you couldn't help but arch into his touch as his hands began to roam over your body. The warmth of his skin seeped through your clothes, and you could feel the firm muscle of his thighs beneath you, supporting your weight with ease.
Ranpo reached for the box of truffles, plucking one from its nest of gold foil and bringing it to your lips. "Open up, sweetheart," he murmured, his eyes dark with desire as he watched you part your lips obediently.
He placed the truffle on your tongue, and you couldn't help but let out a little moan of pleasure as the rich, dark chocolate began to melt in your mouth. But before you could fully savor the taste, Ranpo's lips were on yours, his tongue delving into your mouth to steal the truffle back.
You gasped into the kiss, your fingers clutching at his shoulders as he explored your mouth, chasing the flavor of the chocolate. When he finally pulled away, there was a smear of chocolate on his lips, and a wicked gleam in his eyes.
"Mmm," he hummed, licking his lips with a satisfied smile. "Even better than I imagined. But I think we can do better than that, don't you?"
He reached for another truffle, holding it between his teeth as he leaned in close. Understanding his intention, you parted your lips, allowing him to pass the truffle to you in a sensual, chocolate-flavored kiss.
Back and forth you went, sharing the truffles between you, the kisses growing more heated and desperate with each passing moment. Ranpo's hands roamed your body, slipping beneath your clothes to touch and tease, stoking the fire that burned within you.
By the time the last truffle was gone, you were both panting, your lips swollen and your bodies thrumming with need. Ranpo's eyes were dark with desire, his gaze raking over you with a hunger that made you shiver.
"I think," he murmured, his voice low and rough, "that it's time for the real punishment to begin."
The warmth of his body seeped into yours, and you could feel the firmness of his muscles beneath his clothes. Ranpo's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as he nuzzled your neck, his breath tickling your skin and sending shivers down your spine.
"Now, here's what's going to happen," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. "You're going to finish all of my paperwork for me, as punishment for eating my precious truffle."
Your eyes widened, a protest forming on your lips at the thought of taking on such a daunting task. But before you could voice your objections, Ranpo silenced you with a quick kiss, his lips firm and insistent against yours.
"And while you're working," he continued, his voice low and teasing as he pulled away, "I'm going to indulge in some of my other sweets. I think I've earned it, don't you?"
With that, Ranpo reached for a nearby jar of colorful candies, popping one into his mouth with a satisfied hum. You watched, transfixed, as he savored the sweet, his tongue darting out to lick his lips in a way that made your mouth go dry.
Shaking yourself from your daze, you turned to face the stack of papers on Ranpo's desk. The task seemed even more daunting now that you were perched on his lap, his body a constant distraction that threatened to derail your focus. With a sigh of resignation, you picked up a pen and began to work, trying to ignore the way Ranpo's arms tightened around your waist, holding you close.
As you worked, Ranpo continued to indulge in his sweets, occasionally offering you a taste. His fingers would brush against your lips as he fed you a candy or a piece of chocolate, the intimacy of the gesture making your heart race. The sugary treats melted on your tongue, mingling with the taste of Ranpo's earlier kiss and creating a heady combination that made your head spin.
The minutes ticked by, and you found yourself getting lost in the work, your pen scratching against the paper as you filled out form after form. Ranpo's hands began to wander, his fingers tracing teasing patterns on your skin through the fabric of your clothes. The very prominent bulge twitching beneath you making it harder and harder to concentrate on the task at hand.
The longer you worked, the more Ranpo's touches grew bolder, his hands slipping beneath the hem of your shirt to stroke the bare skin of your stomach. He nuzzled your neck, his lips ghosting over your sensitive flesh and making you shiver. You bit your lip, determined to focus on the task at hand, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the growing ache between your legs.
As if sensing your growing frustration, Ranpo's hand began to drift lower, his fingers tracing the waistband of your panties before slipping beneath the fabric. You gasped as his fingers brushed against your slick heat, and he chuckled, his voice a low rumble in your ear.
"Mmm, seems like someone's enjoying their punishment a little too much," he murmured, his fingers teasing your entrance and making you squirm.
You pressed your thighs together, trying to trap his hand, but Ranpo merely laughed, his fingers sliding deeper inside you. "Oh, no," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "That's not how this works, sweetheart. You're going to take everything I give you, and then some."
You groaned as he began to thrust his fingers in and out of you, the delicious friction making your head spin. "Ranpo," you breathed, your hips rocking against his hand as you sought more.
But Ranpo was relentless, his pace never faltering as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. His thumb found your clit, stroking the sensitive bundle of nerves with just enough pressure to drive you wild. Your breaths came in short gasps, and you arched against him, your spine creating a mesmerizing curve as you reached forward to grab onto the desk.
Just as you were about to tumble over the edge, Ranpo suddenly withdrew his fingers, leaving you trembling and aching with need. You whimpered, the loss of his touch almost unbearable, and you heard him chuckle again.
Then you heard the sound metal, Ranpo shifting you in his lap as he worked on his belt buckle. With a swift tug, his trousers were undone and the unmistakable feeling of his bare cock, hot and hard against the curve of your ass.
"Do you want more?" Ranpo's voice was thick with lust, his lips pressed against your ear. "All you have to do is ask."
You swallowed, the thought of begging for his cock making you burn with shame and arousal.
But the throbbing between your legs was too strong, and you found yourself giving in.
"Please," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I need you, Ranpo."
You felt his grin against your skin as his hand slid between your thighs, his fingers brushing against your soaked entrance. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice a low purr. "Now, why don't you warm my cock for me while you work. That's the real punishment, after all."
With a deft motion, he lifted your hips and sank you down onto his thick shaft. You let out a strangled moan as his cock stretched you open, filling you so completely that it took your breath away.
Ranpo settled back in his chair, his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close. You were impaled on his cock, the fullness of him pressing against your inner walls and making your toes curl.
"There," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "Now, you can get back to work."
Your hand shook as you picked up the pen, trying desperately to ignore the feeling of Ranpo's cock pulsing inside you. The ache between your legs was almost unbearable, and every movement made you more and more aware of the heat of his body, the scent of his skin, and the way his arms wrapped around you.
But still, you forced yourself to focus on the task at hand, your pen flying across the pages as you filled out form after form. Ranpo kept perfectly still, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin and his lips brushing against your neck.
Just as you were nearing the end of the stack of papers, the sound of footsteps and voices in the hallway outside the office made you freeze. Your heart leapt into your throat as you realized that the rest of the team was returning from their lunch break, and here you were, perched on Ranpo's lap like a stolen treat, with his cock, balls deep inside your cunt.
Ranpo, however, seemed unfazed by the impending arrival of your colleagues. If anything, the wicked gleam in his eyes only intensified, as if he relished the thought of being caught in such a compromising position. His hands continued their teasing exploration of your body, his fingers dipping beneath the hem of your skirt to trace the sensitive skin of your thighs.
The door to the office swung open, and you felt the heat of embarrassment flood your cheeks as Yosano, Kunikida, and the others filed in. Their eyes widened as they took in the sight of you on Ranpo's lap, your skirt hiked up and your face flushed with a mix of desire and mortification.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" Yosano drawled, a smirk playing on her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Looks like someone's been a naughty girl."
Kunikida, ever the professional, averted his gaze, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he cleared his throat. "Ranpo-san, this is hardly appropriate behavior for the office," he said, his voice stern despite his obvious discomfort.
Ranpo, however, seemed unfazed by the disapproval in Kunikida's tone. He merely tightened his arms around your waist, pulling you closer against him as he grinned up at his colleagues. "What can I say? She ate my truffle, and now she's paying the price."
The others exchanged glances, a mix of amusement and exasperation on their faces. They had long since grown accustomed to Ranpo's eccentricities, but this was a new level of boldness, even for him.
You squirmed in Ranpo's lap, your face burning with embarrassment as you tried to disentangle yourself from his embrace. But Ranpo held fast, his fingers digging into your hips as he kept you firmly in place.
"Now, now, sweetheart," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "You still have work to do. Be glad they can’t see how much your pussy is drooling all over my cock."
With that, he reached for another candy, popping it into his mouth with a satisfied hum. The others shook their heads, a mix of amusement and resignation on their faces as they settled into their own desks, pointedly avoiding looking in your direction.
You could feel their gazes on you, though, the weight of their curiosity and judgment making your skin prickle with self-consciousness. But Ranpo seemed oblivious to it all, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your thigh as if he were completely unconcerned with the eyes on the two of you.
You bit your lip, a fresh wave of heat flooding your cheeks as you picked up the pen once more. Your hand trembled, the ink flowing across the page in an unsteady scrawl.
But still, you forced yourself to focus on the task at hand, determined to complete the paperwork and put an end to this torture. As the minutes ticked by, you could feel Ranpo's cock twitching inside you, his obvious arousal sending a thrill of excitement through you.
Just as you were nearing the end of the stack of papers, Ranpo's fingers found their way back between your thighs, teasing your sensitive clit and making you gasp.
"Keep working, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "We wouldn't want the others to think you're slacking off, would we?"
The others glanced up at the sound of your gasp, a mix of embarrassment and desire on their faces as they took in the sight of you, perched on Ranpo's lap and trembling with need. But no one dared to speak, and the only sounds in the office were the scratch of pens on paper and the low hum of the air conditioning.
As Ranpo's fingers continued their teasing exploration of your slick folds, your vision blurred, the words on the page swimming before your eyes. Your breathing grew ragged, and your hips began to rock involuntarily, desperate for more.
Ranpo's grip on your waist tightened, and he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. "What's wrong, sweetheart? Can't focus?" he asked, his voice low and taunting. "Maybe I should stop. After all, I wouldn't want to interfere with your punishment."
You felt a pang of disappointment at his words, but you knew better than to argue.
"Please," you whispered, your voice a desperate plea. "I need to finish this."
Ranpo smiled, his fingers never ceasing their teasing rhythm. "Then you'd better hurry up," he murmured. "Because if you don't finish soon, l'm going to take you right here, in front of everyone. And then they'll all know how much you enjoy being my naughty little thief."
His words sent a thrill of excitement through you, mingling with the shame and arousal that already burned in your veins. The thought of your colleagues watching as Ranpo fucked you was both mortifying and intoxicating, and the image of it made you even wetter.
Ranpo sensed your reaction, his lips curling into a wicked smile as he slid two fingers on either side of your swollen clit, pinching slowly and deliberately. "I bet they'd like that, wouldn't they?" he murmured, his voice a low purr. "To see how pretty you look when you come, how shamelessly you beg for more."
"Ranpo," you gasped, his words sending a surge of pleasure through you. You were so close, the tension coiled inside you ready to snap. "Please, I-"
Before you could finish your sentence, Ranpo's thumb pressed down hard on your clit, sending you spiraling over the edge. You cried out softly, slumping against the desk as your juices flowed out freely, dripping down the leather chair.
The others stared in disbelief, their faces flushed with embarrassment and arousal as they watched Ranpo slowly pull his fingers from your slick folds, an obscene amount of your juices now creating a puddle on the floor. He brought his hand to his mouth, licking them clean with a satisfied smile.
"Mmm," he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire. "Just as delicious as I imagined. But there's one last thing we need to do."
Your heart raced in anticipation, your skin tingling as Ranpo's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close.
"What's that?" you breathed, the aftershocks of your orgasm still rippling through your body.
Ranpo grinned, his fingers trailing down your stomach to find the spot where his cock was still buried inside you. "I think it's time we showed the others just how much you love being my little truffle thief."
Without warning, he thrust up into you, his cock hitting your sweet spot and making you cry out. Your hands flew to the desk, gripping the edge as he pounded into you, his hips setting a punishing rhythm.
"Ranpo," you whimpered, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.
"Come on, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice strained with his own desire. "Show them how good it feels." Your head fell back against his shoulder, and you surrendered to the pleasure, your hips moving in time with his. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, his arousal building with each stroke.
The sound of skin slapping skin echoed through the office, the scent of sex mingling with the familiar aroma of ink and paper. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you let yourself get lost in the sensation, the pressure building in your core until it finally snapped.
You came hard, your muscles clenching around Ranpo's cock and drawing a groan from his lips. Your juices flowed freely, soaking the chair beneath you as you trembled in his arms.
"That's it," Ranpo growled, his fingers digging into your skin as he rode out your orgasm. "You're so fucking beautiful when you come for me."
You shuddered, his words sending a fresh wave of pleasure through you.
The others watched in rapt attention, their own arousal obvious in their flushed cheeks and darkened eyes.
Ranpo's thrusts became erratic, and he buried his face in your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. With a muffled groan, he came, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you with his seed.
The room was silent, save for the sound of your heavy breathing and the pounding of your heart in your ears. Your limbs felt boneless, and your head was spinning, the intensity of your release leaving you dazed and sated.
As Ranpo's cock began to soften, you felt a rush of shame and embarrassment, realizing that the others had witnessed everything. But as you glanced around the room, you were surprised to see a mix of admiration and lust on their faces, their eyes locked on the place where your bodies were still connected.
Ranpo pulled away slowly, his arms releasing their tight hold around your waist. He tucked himself back into his trousers, the fabric damp with your juices.
"There," he said, his voice a low, satisfied purr. "Now we're even."
Your eyes widened, your cheeks flushing as you realized that the pile of unfinished paperwork was still sitting on the desk in front of you.
Ranpo's smile widened, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Don't worry, sweetheart," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. "I'll finish the rest. But only because you're such a good girl."
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not-brionnne · 1 day
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imagine jealous Ranpo 🫣 he would turn so needy nghhh
WAAAAAA I need this immediately. My pouty baby boy. This turned out so much softer than I thought it would. I just want to take care of him!
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Pairing: Ranpo x f!reader.
Content Guidance: NSFW. Jealous, needy Ranpo. Fingering. Cunnilingus. He cums from eating you out. Approx 1k words.
The Green-eyed Monster.
It really wasn't your fault. Ranpo knew just how easy Dazai found it to charm women. He'd lost count of the number of times the bandaged detective had gotten information out of ladies, disarming them with just with a little flirting, a smile, or a well-timed quip. He was smart, handsome, and devious, and so, when his heady gaze fell to you, Ranpo wasn't surprised at all by your reaction.
None of it was intentional. You couldn't control the way your face flushed when Dazai grinned at you, or how his jokes made you giggle. You couldn't help but feel flustered when he complimented your shoes and asked if you'd consider doing him the honor of stepping on his neck and cutting off his air supply. Of course you politely declined, but it didn't stop Ranpo from ruminating on it.
Solving crimes was nothing. Love... love was a much more vexing mystery.
He spent the rest of the morning battling with a constant weight in his chest and the nagging (and frankly annoying,) feeling that he needed to remind you that he loved you and you loved him. He needed to be touching you in some way just to feel like the world still had color; holding your hand beneath the meeting table during briefings, stealing you away for cuddles in the copier room. But no matter what he did, he couldn't shake that horrible ache.
So, a little while later, as you worked at your desk, Ranpo scooted his chair beside you and rested his chin on your shoulder. His pitiful pout reflected in your monitor screen, as well as the deep despondency in his eyes.
Bending your arm to affectionately pet his hair, you asked, "What's the matter?"
He couldn't put it into words. Not without sounding pathetic. So he simply let his face slide down until it was his forehead on your shoulder and his pout was hidden from you. And there you let him stay as you continued working, your keyboard keys clacking as his heart tore itself to shreds.
"You smell like caramel," you said after a while, your voice so gentle and tender.
Caramel... Soft. Sweet. Childish.
And what did Dazai smell like? Faded sandalwood cologne, whisky... manly things. Scents ladies found sexy.
Ranpo couldn't help but wonder if you subconsciously compared them that way too. Oh, you most assuredly loved Ranpo, but he still wondered if some part of you longed for Ranpo to be a little more Dazai.
It bothered him all day. He barely ate half of the dozen custard buns he brought for lunch and morosely nibbled on his Pocky on the walk home.
"Did something upset you today?" you asked finally when he sat picking at his dinner later that evening.
Ranpo simply sighed and leaned against you. "It's nothing."
"It's not nothing if it hurt you."
He knew you weren't going to drop it. You always bugged him until he told you what was going on every time he got upset.
Folding his arms over his chest, he huffed, frustrated that he even had to say it at all. "Fine. I'm worried you don't find me sexy."
"Ranpo..."
"I'm not tall and mysterious like Dazai. You don't laugh at my jokes-"
"You don't make jokes..."
He paused for a second, letting that sink in. "Huh..."
"And for the record, I find you incredibly sexy. Everything about you... the way you look, the way you are, your smile, your laugh, your voice... the way you've been clinging to me all day." You took his hand and led it under the table, beneath your skirt. "You want to know how sexy I find you?"
He did.
Ranpo's breath hitched as he pushed aside your underwear, finding your pussy so warm and slick to the touch there was absolutely no denying any of what you said.
"You see how wet you get me?"
"Uh-huh..." he breathed, barely able to string together a thought. God, you were soaked, and just from a little cuddling. His heart surged as you let out a breathy moan, your back arching from the way he was stroking your clit. He pressed hot, open mouthed kisses to your neck, relief tangling with desire. You were his. His.
He was on his knees between your thighs in an instant, not caring one bit if the desperate little whine which emerged from him as he tugged down your panties sounded pathetic. He needed you right now, and if he didn't get to taste you he'd go mad.
The taste of you always gave him twinges in his lower belly, and as he pressed his face to your pussy, he was so hard it felt like his cock was going to burst through his pants. He kissed your clit again and again, each kiss more heated and hungry than the last until you gasped his name. Oh, and how he loved the sound of that. All he wanted was to lick and suck on you, make you feel good. Nothing else mattered.
Your fingers running through his hair gave him tingles, the way you pushed your hips up against his mouth made him moan. Oh, you felt so good, you tasted so good. And you were his. His. His. His.
He moaned against your pussy as he came, his cock throbbing so hard inside his trousers it made him dizzy. And as he whined and mewled through it, you cradled the back of his head in your hand, grinding yourself against his lolling tongue, coming with him and gasping praises which made his thighs tremble.
"God, Ranpo, you're amazing. I love you so much."
"Yeah, I know," he sighed contentedly, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your belly. "Doesn't take a genius detective to figure that out."
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not-brionnne · 3 days
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I have a new theory which has resulted from me writing porn on my phone which im certain is old hat to everyone but is new to me
it kinda goes like this
basically, as a person or community writes a kinky story for longer, they will kind of inevitably move up a chain of 'paradigms of justification' required to make the kink continue to make sense.
the pace will vary depending on the kink, but motion is inevitable.
---
so say you decide to write some rope bondage kink. as you continue to write, you are likely to progress through the stages as follows:
Stage 0 - Baseline: i am writing A tying up B, because i want to, A wants to, and B is into it (or isn't, depending on what kinda freak you are). Regular fic goes here.
Stage 1 - Psychological: Why is does A like tying up B? Why does B like being tied up? Normal character stuff. Not yet weird. You're still normal. If you mom found out you were writing this, she'd probably still love you.
Stage 2 - Logistical: How does A afford all those rope? Why hasn't B's hands fallen off from lack of circulation? Getting odd you'd write about this, but fair enough, real kinksters deal with this. You just like to pay attention to details.
Stage 3 - Sociological: You have written the kink long enough that you need it to be normalized in-universe in order to push the envelope. You need a Federal Department of Kinky Shit Why has nobody called the cops when B goes missing for three days due to the suspension bondage setup you researched for two hours last night? Did you just invent a law so its okay for A to tie up the pizza delivery guy? Why is it not a violation of the labour code that B spends all her time literally tied to her desk? This is where the descent into madness begins. You have total freedom now to introduce new characters, but they will probably end up being A-like and B-like because that's your kink and why you started writing in the first place. People laugh when they see the premise, but keep reading.
Stage 4 - Biological: Oh, now you fucked up. See, eventually, you're going to start wondering why the world is filled with people like A and B. You're going to need to answer definitively why B didn't fucking die when you accidentally wrote a poorly conceived stress position in chapter 2. You gotta answer why there's only like 1 A for every 10 Bs. You realize with horror you accidentally implied that shibari harnesses is literally a biological requirement for human reproduction. It's over for you. This is ABO with extra steps. Get thee to a nunnery.
Stage 5 - Synthesis: "Oh fuck, it all makes sense now." Terminal brain stoppage. Death would be a mercy. ---
The thing is, once you have progressed through these stages, you are going to skip ahead in future stories because, let's face it, its incredibly convenient to have these structures laid out for you. If you've gotten to Stage 3 in a previous fic and then start a new one, well, you could fuck around justifying what's going on, or you could simply bring back the Federal Department of Kinky Shit and jump straight to the silk cord. It's efficient and we're all busy people.
I ended up following this trajectory with my first set of Porn On Phone stories pretty closely:
Hot lady am sexy kidnaps!
But why am hot lady sexy kidnap?
How am hot lady afford lavish lifestyle for sexy kidnapee?
Why am nobody arrest hot lady for sexy kidnap?
am reason related to why am no men in stories?
characters am now exclaim 'judith christ!' when stub toe.
Terminal. Put me down like the dog I am.
But the dark realization I had, right about now, is that all the normie fics out there, all the boring straight stuff?
... yeah they're already at Stage 5. The straights are living at stage 5, patriarchy is their Federal Department of Kinky Shit, they believe in alphas and omegas already.
So, put that way, it's actually totally normal and okay to do this progression, right? Like, it's subversive. This is feminist! This is feminist! I scream, as I'm dragged into the van and driven down to the river to be drowned like an unwanted kitten. I'm the normal one! You're all mad!
anyway i started writing a star trek porn parody in an attempt to write 'normal' porn again, hit stage five within 3000 words, had a mental breakdown, and came here to write this.
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not-brionnne · 3 days
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pervert but in a romantic way
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not-brionnne · 4 days
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Do you guys remember how kidnap fantasies were popular on wattpad because young girls and queer teens were both made to feel shame at the thought of their own sexualities, so the fantasy of being kidnapped totally against their will was a way for them to engage with a romantic or sexual fantasy without feeling morally in the wrong for doing so? Added bonus that the fantasy involved being whisked away from repressive environments like home or school, right?
Finding out that Bram Stoker was in a sexless marriage and that scholars believe that he very likely was closeted gay puts the entire book into perspective as to WHY it reads EXACTLY like a self insert wattpad Dracula kidnap fic:
“I TOTALLY love my wife and would never do anything that an upstanding Good Straight Working Man wouldn’t do but oh nooo, big strong man with broad back and strong enough arms to carry me back to bed like a princess trapped me and claimed me as his, completely against my will 👉👈 But he protects me against the bad evil sexual women (who I assure you, I am TOTALLY sexually attracted to, as any straight man with a choice would be) but trust me, I do NOT want ANY of this. What’s that? The Count is not capable of feeling love? Would be a shame if I had the special ability to change tha-”
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not-brionnne · 5 days
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No rizz just the insatiable hunger to worship you through multiple orgasms and baby you afterwards
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not-brionnne · 5 days
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You slide into your regular booth later than usual - a sweating bottle of your tried and true choice saving your spot as you catch the tail end of some heated debate between Katsuki and your best friend.
“Okay, but he’s really nice Bakugou—“
“Nice? Y’need therapy.”
He holds an arm out for you to settle in under, turning his head to kiss your temple in greeting.
“Okay so maybe he’s not nice all the time, but no one is nice all the time.”
You can feel the eye roll from your boyfriend without having to see it. “Is he fuckin’ twelve? There a reason he can’t control ‘imself when he’s grumpy?”
She sticks her tongue out at Katsuki, and you turn to press your smile into his shoulder. It’s endearing, the way he’s fit himself into the lives of your friends. The way he genuinely cares, in his own harsh way - the way he wants your friends to be treated well. He’s a girls’ girl through and through, even if you’d never say it to him. They have this argument every week.
Your friend picks at the label on her bottle, pouting.
“Okay, but isn’t it enough that I love him?”
Katsuki throws his head back and cackles. It’s mean, but the three of you know that he means well.
“That ain’t love.”
She huffs at that, setting her bottle down to cross her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes at Katsuki. “You don’t know that.”
You feel him eyeing you then, and you tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. He’s warm - the smile is in his eyes as yours pulls at the corners of your lips. He turns his head to take another swig from his drink.
“I know enough,” he says finally, arm around you tightening just a bit.
Your friend gags, and it makes you laugh. Katsuki is stubborn and crass, but he’s right about this.
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not-brionnne · 5 days
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i know this has been played with somewhere out there in the universe that is our community, but truly bakugou getting hit with some kind of truth/'forced to say what he's thinking' quirk is HILARIOUS
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not-brionnne · 5 days
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lounging atop your bed on your belly—phone in hand—you scroll aimlessly. the oversized t-shirt you’re in doesn’t quite cover your cotton undies, your legs on display. you hear him enter the room, feel the bed dip as he crawls up behind you. he doesn’t say anything and neither do you as a hand grazes up your calf and thigh, slowly approaching the curve of your ass. he teases the waistband of your underwear, and you hold your breath, curious to see how far he goes (he wants to see how far you’ll let him go). he snaps the elastic against your flesh and chuckles at the way you squirm; he then moves to spread your legs. you feel him switch positions, feel his hot breath at the apex of your thighs. holding your breath in anticipation, you can’t stifle the gasp that leaves your lips when his tongue prods at the thin fabric that covers your cunt. he presses a palm to your back and angles your soft hips so he can better access what he wants. you toss your phone aside, settling in for whatever he has planned.
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not-brionnne · 5 days
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fact: when a big huge server room has wires that are all zip-tied together in neat rows, that’s shibari. you agree
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not-brionnne · 5 days
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not-brionnne · 5 days
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What do homosexual computers fantasize about?
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not-brionnne · 6 days
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meet-cute ? more like meat-kick
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