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#im not even from the us but every time I hear is voice
t0ast-ghost · 20 hours
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Season 3! Episode 1! (Spock’s Brain)! Time to watch a guy lose his mind. Literally:
- Scotty’s got a new hair cut.
- I like her purple outfit (10/10 would wear myself, that and those boots)
- Nap time on the bridge, turn off the lights
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- He’s eepy (don’t take his brain!)
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- sleepy
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- Diagnoses you with “brain is gone”
- The camp of this episode is camping
- “Then we’ll have to take him with us.” “Take- take him where?” “In search of his brain, Doctor.” Do they realize how bizarre this is?
- I’d say there should be a game where you take a shot every time they say ‘Spock’s brain’ in this episode but that would be irresponsible
- Kirk is having a lot of interaction with the bridge crew this episode
- Uhura asking the right questions
- “If I guess wrong Mr Spock is dead. Spock will die.” He cares and is scared
- “Life form readings, Mr Spock- Mr Scott.” Damn
- “The givers of pain… and delight.” Cool song title
- This is unsettling. Like worse than most horror movies. Imagine controlling your friends body with a remote because they don’t have any brain
- They didn’t give McCoy any warning about the trap activating
- Heating up rocks with phasers
- I love how Spock is still saying fascinating even just as a brain
- When Kirk can hear Spock’s voice again he goes up to his body so he can pretend to talk to him normally
- “Captain, there is a definite pleasurable experience connected with the hearing of your voice.”
- Sleep
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- Sleepy
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- Once again they gave Kirk period pain
- Sulu on the bridge
- “I think science provides us with an answer.” “It does, captain.” “Agreed, Doctor.” *all three proceed to kick the shit out of you.*
- They’re all violent and feral in this episode
- McCoy’s boots fly up
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- Those buttons to control Spock are so specific, I can barely turn on a light switch if there’s more than three buttons
- McCoy is so ready to potentially die to save Spock
- Massive Migraine McCoy
- James “I’d die before I break the prime directive” Kirk breaking the prime directive
- THE OVERLAYING OF FACES AND MCCOY SWEATING WHILE KIRK NARRATES. IM DEAD. WHO DID THIS.
- This is fucked up. What the fuck is happening
- *wakes up from brain surgery and starts info dumping*
- “I should have never reconnected his mouth.” You love him and you missed him. Admit it. Awww the laugh he lets out as Spock just continues
This was… an experience…
Masterposty
Episode written by Lee Cronin
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camellia-salazar · 1 year
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Hearing "Stand clear of the closing doors, please." when I was watching Annie (2014) got my AJR loving ass to get all hyped up all because I heard the same damn voice saying the same damn thing from their "Making of Bang" video.
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sttoru · 4 months
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your boyfriend cannot stop himself from kissing you all over. kissing you is his favorite thing to do - no matter when or where.
☀︎|tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. suggestive, mild (to somewhat) nsfw, fluff. lots of kissing. lots and lots of kissing and loving. he fondles and gropes you everywhere basically. clingy satoru. tiny bit size difference (yes ok im a slut, what about it). body worship kinda. readers gets called ‘sweet / pretty girl, baby, princess’. beta read? what’s that.
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you fell for it again; satoru told you it was only going to be a quick peck on the lips. ‘i promise, baby, c'moooon’ — you recall him begging in that whiny voice of his. that's all what was needed to make you putty in his hands.
“fine, but only one kiss, okay?” you gave in and walked over to satoru, climbed onto your shared bed and leaned in for a swift kiss—only for his strong arms to cage you in and never let go. it had been ten minutes since; the apartment was silent, except for the lewd sounds of your shared kisses and heavy breaths.
satoru’s soft hands are wandering everywhere. from cupping your cheeks to rubbing your sides and gripping your ass. the clock was ticking loudly, but the sound of it was drowned out by your moans. and satoru’s low, needy whimpers.
the appointment you were getting ready for had long slipped your mind.
“mh, you’re such a good kisser, baby,” the white-haired man sighs. he absolutely loves the way you follow the movements of his glossy lips—your head tilting to the side and back—automatically accomodating to satoru’s motions. he was kissing you with an urgent need. one you had never known or witnessed before, “more, ngh, need more of you, please.”
satoru was not letting up. you couldn’t blame him; it was easy to get lost in this warm and cherished moment of peace. his sweet kisses switched intensity—going from innocent kisses to sloppy ones, resulting in your chin dripping with a mixture of saliva.
you whine and straddle satoru’s lap which earns you a happy hum from your lover. that was his plan all along: to completely distract you from the fact that you had to leave the house. that you had to leave his side. others would call it annoyingly clingy, but satoru absolutely needs your lips on his.
he is sure that he would go insane if he spent a whole day without kissing you. an hour is already too long, if he is honest.
satoru would love to kiss you until the end of time. until death comes knocking onto his door. the last thing he desires to feel is your plump lips and wet tongue wrapped around his. a peaceful, warm death. one with no regrets.
“mhmmm, fuck, you taste so sweet.” satoru's eyebrow furrow in delight. he is nearly overstimulated by the taste of you. the way your small body clings onto him, your hands holding onto his jaw and sliding down his chest, your sounds of pleasure that only he could ever have the honour of hearing.
it was perfect. all of you was perfect.
your parted lips make way for his tongue again. satoru slips his tongue inside your mouth. it was tender, yet demanding. your throat tightens up and a choked moan fills his ears. his cold fingers make contact with the warm skin of your midriff. they were aiming at one place; your chest.
the one satoru loves to fondle no matter when or where. the same one he loves to use as a pillow every night.
“nnh, ‘toru, need’to breathe,” you are running out of air. the short gasps you took between the heated kisses were not enough to fill your lungs. but, it was addicting. the shortness of breath the two of you experienced only served as more proof of your love.
neither of you want to pull away—to pause the make out session for even what could be a split second.
the older man below you is hesistant. he does not want to let go of you. it's like you’re asking him to break up—that’s how much it hurts him to stop kissing you.
however, he felt a bit light-headed from the lack of oxygen as well. satoru pulls away, but not without sweeping his tongue over your bottom lip, lapping up the drool that dripped down the corners of your mouth.
his eyes are half-lidded and glazed over with both love and lust. you stabilise yourself by holding onto his broad shoulders and satoru rubs your back to help calm you down further. a ghost of a grin tugs at his lips. he surely is enjoying your adorable, exhausted demeanour. your chest was heaving up and down—his fingers sneaking to your front and wrapping around a breast to feel its tenderness.
“pretty,” satoru sighs. he takes the chance once your lips part to take a deep breath. his tongue quickly slips in, invading your mouth and exploring every inch before separating the two of you again. he can not go a minute without kissing you. you sure are like a drug to him, “thank you, princess.”
you are surprised by the sudden tongue kiss, but brush it off with a chuckle. you know how satoru is; not able to keep away from you in heated moments like these. his large hands fondling, groping and squeezing every area of your body only proves that point.
“thank you for what?” you ask, planting a soft peck on his lips. your boyfriend responds by holding the back of your head. he leans in for another kiss like a man depraved of any affection. you shudder and hold onto him like he there is no tomorrow. he does the same back, squeezing you against his chest.
satoru slightly tilts his head back to answer your question. his breath was hot on your mouth, a faint string of saliva hanging between your bottom lips. he can not hold the urge. he can not answer. his lips are already colliding with yours once more.
over and over. until the two of you were out of breath and needed a break again.
“thank you for being with me,” satoru answers in a quiet whisper. the pad of his thumb brushes back and forth against the waistband of the shorts you are wearing. there is an urge to pull them down and reveal those pretty little panties you are wearing, but his current priority is to feel your mouth on his.
until he gets enough. which is never. never in a million years.
“thank you for everything, honestly,” satoru continues and leaves a couple wet kisses down your neck. his hands do not leave your perfect body. he’s admiring every curve - every body part that had yet to be touched, “could have never believed that i’d end up with such a pretty girl. but, here i am, with the prettiest girl in the world in my arms.”
satoru had a way with words. one that left you flustered like crazy each time. he looks at you and that’s when you know that he means every word. his eyes were shining, even when half-lidded. the admiration in them more than just visible.
he looks at your face and body like he’s witnessing the world's greatest treasure. and that you surely are.
“stop saying that.” you giggle embarrassedly. you cover your mouth to hide your smile, though satoru is quick to grab your wrist and pull your hand away. he keeps holding onto your arm to prevent you from hiding your face from his sight. and to stop you from hiding your lips from his, of course.
the older man clicks his tongue, scolding you jokingly for trying to hide that precious smile from him. he kisses the corners of your lips, touch lingering against your hot skin, “how am i supposed to admire my pretty girl if she keeps hiding herself, hm?”
you squirm due to satoru’s flirty words. his gentle tone of voice is making you feel those tingles in your lower abdomen. there has not been a single moment in your relationship where your lover made you feel unwanted. it’s been the complete opposite every day.
“someone’s getting a bit squirmy, aye?” your boyfriend teases. he knows that the combination of his words, looks and actions make you weak in the knees. you always react like it’s your first time kissing and that is both endearing and amusing to him.
you can’t control your bodily reactions either. the sight of satoru beneath you is simply too much. his fluffy hair that sits messily due to your fingers that tugged and played around with the strands, his black top riding up to reveal a glimpse of his defined abs and happy trail. . . the faint blush on satoru’s cheeks and the needy look in his eyes.
you surely can’t leave him alone while he looks like that.
“shut up and kiss me already.” you respond with a huff. and so, satoru does. wasting not a single second. kissing you is his job—his passion. the only thing he ever craves for.
the room once again fills with noises of pure contentment, enjoyment and pleasure. it’s just you two in that moment—no one else mattered.
as long as your lips stay attached to each other, no one actually does.
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triggeringtommy · 8 months
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starting my morning off by crying to my chemical romance and the wonder years,,, i feel like i’m drowning in my grief this shit sucks
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rowarn · 16 days
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cw: gun play, throat fucking with a gun im sorry, simon coming untouched, masturbation (reader) I NEEDED TO GET THIS OUT OF MY BRAIN SO unedited
simon with a gun kink that he's kept hidden would be crazy.
imagine ur big, beefy husband coming home after a long deployment. he's tense, his fists are clenched tight and it's clear he's got a ton of steam he needs to blow off.
at first, you expect a normal night together of him plowing you into the mattress so hard that the bed creaks and hits the wall with every thrust. the kind of fucking that leaves you trembling for 15 minutes after you've finished and cleaned up. the kind that has him pulling you into his arms to soothe and coo at.
but something is different this time.
he starts removing his gear one by one as usual but instead of removing the holster with his gun and safely placing it down, he unholsters the gun completely.
you're watching with bated breath as he unloads the weapon, carefully pulling it back and peering into the chamber. you're watching his hands move, admiring how strong his fingers are and how the veins in his hands bulge out with every movement
you deviously excited by the time he approaches you -- the gun still in his hand.
he brings it up, placing the nozzle against your chin, finger hovering off the the trigger. but you know how well-trained he is -- how good he is at his job. you know that he could have that finger on the trigger in a milisecond, faster than you would even be able to comprehend.
"open," he orders, a voice that sends shivers down your spine. it's firm, rough, authoritative. it's a tone you imagine he uses when he's on the field.
soliders bow to his every whim and you're no better. but unlike those who are trained to obey him because it's their job -- you obey him because you know if you do, you'll get the sweetest reward in the world; that thick, full cock still hidden in his pants.
your panties are already wet and sticky and your brain’s already feeling fuzzy by the time you open your mouth. 
the shock of cold is the first thing you recognize followed by the tang of metal as the weapon settles on your tongue. your lashes flutter as you look up at your husband, face still obscured by his balaclava but his pretty, brown eyes burn holes into you nevertheless.
he slowly and carefully slides the gun deeper into your mouth until it presses against the back of your throat and you involuntarily gag. a groan rips from his cheeks as he watches the tears gather on your lashline.
"that's it, pretty," he coos, "bet you wish that was my cock huh?" you nod your head as best you can with the weapon lodged in your throat, "maybe i'll give it to you if you put on a real nice show for me."
his words take a moment to register in your fuzzy brain but once they do, your hand is flying down between your legs at record speed. you slip it beneath the band of your panties, barely lifting his shirt that you're wearing out of the way so you can finally find relief in the ache that has settled in your cunt.
your folds are wet and sticky as they part around your fingers and you struggle to swallow around the gun in your mouth. there's no give to the metal and drool begins to dribble down your shin in long, thin strings.
simon's cock is hard, heavy and leaking against his thigh. this has been one of his best kept secrets, to watch you submit to his gun -- to the weapon he has used to murder countless people with.
and here you were, doing as you're told, throating his gun while you play with your pretty cunt. he can hear how wet you are, can see the way you desperately hump your own hand trying to get your fingers deeper and deeper. but they'll never feel as good as his, you both know this.
so all you can do is tearfully look up at him through clumped lashes as you choke and gag on the gun he continues to keep stuffed down your throat.
his cock throbs at the thought of being where his weapon is now. he envies it.
you mutter something, muffled and incomprehensible but he knows what you're saying. he can see the way your pupils blow out, hear the way your breathing grows erratic and choppy. you're trembling and breathless, messily jerking your hips into your own hand as you desperately look up at him -- begging for anything to push you over the edge.
his finger finally lands on the trigger of his gun and he sees your eyes widen but the desperate, teary look you give him only tells him more of what you need.
there's a muted, empty click when he pulls the trigger. the gun is empty, you both know this -- but it sends you over the edge anyway.
simons cock twitches and twitches, balls tight and heavy before he's spurting his load down his thigh at the sight of you cumming on your own fingers and moaning around his gun.
the hand holding the weapon trembles as he cums untouched at the entire scene. you pull your head back, gasping for air before pulling your hand out of your panties.
simon lurches forward, you don't even have time to react before he's taking the sticky, messy, cum-covered fingers into his mouth.
he's on top of you, pressing you down beneath his weight, the gun tossed and forgotten on the bed because now all he can think about is fucking you into the mattress. <3
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ivymarquis · 1 month
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The Neighbor
Hello friends I fucked off for a month but I’m back and I bring Price smut as an apology for my absence. @sky-is-the-limit’s “Im here to do what your boyfriend cant” prompt has lived in my brain rent free ecer since I read it and while I didn’t follow it verbatim, I did keep in spirit with the theme :)
Also womp I was gone for the Price challenge by @glitterypirateduck but this actually checks off a couple of the prompt options (first time being intimate, a confession/secret is discovered/revealed) so I’m submitting it.
There are a lot of tags. Make sure you read them.
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Pairing| John Price x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 4.8k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Accidental voyuerism by virtue of living in an apartment, the reader has a dogshit boyfriend at the beginning of the fic (there is no cheating), slut shaming (from the dogshit boyfriend), these two idiots are down bad for each other, sex toys, oral (F!receiving), unprotected PiV, gratuitous squirting because I’m me, not really heavy on BDSM elements but mentions of the following: bondage/restraints (John uses his hands, nothing crazy), something akin to subspace from how good the nut is, aftercare, John is a prick to the now-ex, very brief angst due to a quick misunderstanding, very vaguely implied somnophilia, rampant abuse of italics. Lemme know if I missed anything.
His neighbor is clearly used to Price being deployed.
She’s a sweet thing, really, and on the whole isn’t that disagreeable of a neighbor.
He just has one problem with her (not even her, really) that is a thorn in his fucking side- her boyfriend.
The boyfriend was not an issue when they first met- wasn’t in the picture at all.
And no John most assuredly hasn’t had it out for the guy since Day 1. The fact that John had gathered himself up to ask his pretty neighbor out when he came back from his latest mission, only to find out about the new boyfriend, does not color his impression of the other man. He’s grown and this is not the first time his advances have been turned away for whatever reason.
But there are, to his knowledge, no true redeeming qualities about the man and he is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.
He catches bits and pieces through the walls. The boyfriend is not attentive, caring, or sweet to her. She is treated as a guest in her own home, and twice he’s heard bellowing shouts that had Price at the door with his fist banging against it- both to shut him up and make it exceptionally well known that if the boyfriend thinks intimidating a woman is going to fly, that Price will not hesitate to kick the door in.
The most appalling part of it all is that John has a front row seat to just how atrocious he is in bed.
For the life of him John does not understand. It’s not even like the lad’s a good lay.
He’s heard many stories of women tolerating absolutely atrocious behavior from the muppets they were with because he knew how to make them see stars.
That is exceptionally not the case here. And John is rapidly finding his patience wearing thin at continually being subjugated to his pathetic performance.
So what the hell is it about the boyfriend that keeps his neighbor so enamored with him?
John stares at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan turn as he tries to tune out the thumping of the headboard against the wall.
He thinks that if the man was just a bad lay and completely incapable of getting her anywhere, that would be one thing and John would continue to be frustrated but ultimately understand. But it’s the way he seems to actively ruin it anytime she has the audacity to enjoy having sex with him that truly grates on John’s nerves.
It’s not often, but even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then. The thumping of the headboard is accompanied by her sweet voice moaning lowly in short staccato notes as the boyfriend appears to finally be doing something right.
The thumping comes to a halt, and John groans in frustration.
“Why’d you stop?” He can hear his pretty neighbor lament through the thin walls.
“Why the fuck are you being so loud? Trying to give the neighbor a show?”
John squints his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. The fucking muppet can’t do anything right.
If the neighbor was his, John wouldn’t give a fuck who heard. Let all the neighbors know that he could fuck the sense clear out of her pretty little head. John could show the muppet what loud is.
“No! I’m not trying to do anything- it just felt good,” she defends herself.
“Well, be quieter about it, no one needs to hear that. You sound like a whore,” the muppet snaps at her irritably, and John is nearly at his fucking limit when the god damn headboard starts to thump against the wall again.
“Get out.”
Oh.
John is impressed- pleasure and pride coursing through him as his sweet neighbor stands up for herself rather than letting that ungrateful swine continue to berate her.
Good fucking girl.
“What did you just say?” The thumping stops.
“You don’t get to call me names. Get off of me and get out.”
For all his sins, it seems even the muppet has a line he’s not willing to cross.
There’s a shifting as he presumably pulls out and gets off the bed- the words are muffled but the tone is clear. The muppet isn’t above laying into her verbally though consent is (smartly) a line he won’t toe.
And good thinking on his part- John would probably tear through the drywall and turn him into a chew toy had that conversation gone in any other direction.
The door slams loudly, announcing the boyfriend’s departure.
John can’t help but keep his attention on his neighbor to see what her reaction is going to be. It is taking every ounce of self control he has to not follow the boyfriend and wring his neck in the parking lot.
There’s no conventional guide for how to address this situation with your neighbor. ‘Hello, I’ve fancied you for quite some time and that ungrateful prick somehow swept you up before I got the nerve to ask you out. I've had to hear you have the most lackluster sex ever for the past several months, and equal parts want to check in on how you’re doing emotionally after his latest stunt, and also want to bend you over and pin you to the mattress until you’re squealing. May I come in?’
He can’t say he is too surprised to hear things slamming about in the apartment- his pretty neighbor sounding more pissed off than upset, catching snippets of “Who the fuck does he think he is, talking to me like that” and “Motherfucker couldn’t find my clit with a map and a headlamp but can find the audacity to call me names-”
Okay, John has to fight back the urge to laugh at that last one lest she hear him. She’s quite the viper when (finally) provoked, and it just endears her more to him.
She doesn’t appear particularly distraught, the slamming and huffing and muttering concluding with her tossing herself on the bed.
It’s a very common occurrence that after the neighbor’s rendezvous with her lazy boyfriend, John is treated to a show where she finishes herself off with her toys.
The boyfriend, like many inadequate men, is threatened by them and John has heard the snide remarks.
Hilarious, he finds it, that a man incapable of getting her off is so adamant that she gets rid of them.
She hasn’t listened, clearly, as the low sound of her vibrator can be heard through the wall.
John is soon graced with the sound of her panting moans. His cock stiffens in interest at her voice, which is a frequent occurrence. She makes such pretty noises, mewling and whimpering as she works herself up.
Tonight is a whirlwind of emotions for his pretty neighbor, and at the end of the day her no-good boyfriend left her high and dry.
John will gladly enjoy the consequences of the boyfriend’s actions, one hand wrapping around his cock and beginning to stroke in time with her whines.
What he wouldn’t give for a chance to make her see stars. He’d be so good to her.
The reality of his job makes dating a logistical nightmare, part of what stayed his hand for so long.
He’s not blind. His neighbor is kind and sweet with a killer smile and wandering eyes. He’s caught her more than once ogling him when he’s returned home in uniform, or more nondescript tactical clothing.
Feeling her gaze on him always makes him puff up with pride, enjoying holding her attention no matter how fleeting. If he takes his time after a run and makes a point to pull the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his brow where she can see it, that’s his business.
So John thinks he’s dreaming when he hears that lovely voice whimper his name from the other side of the wall.
He stiffens, quietly waiting to see if he hears it again.
“John- Oh, fuck- please,” is all he needs to hear before he’s well and truly lost any semblance of patience.
Only having the presence of mind to dress himself enough to not warrant any errant looks from the other neighbors, he is at her door in a second.
It’s only after he knocks that he realizes he may well have killed whatever momentum she’s built for herself- given her muttering as she approaches the door- but he fully intends to make up for the stolen release.
She opens the door without looking through the peephole, obviously expecting it to be the ex based on the vitriol poised to spill at John’s chest, approximately eye level with where the (hopefully ex) boyfriend would be.
Once again he has to stifle a laugh, finding her a comical vision when the anger on her face melts away as her eyes flick up to his face with the realization that it is him at the door and not the object of her ire.
“What are you doing here, John?” Christ, he’s always been a sucker for pretty doe eyes. If he held even an ounce less of restraint he’d be mounting her right here for everyone to see.
“I’m here to do what your sorry excuse of a boyfriend can’t.”
Even as he reaches out to pull her in for a kiss, he’s watching her body language- gauging if she stiffens or shifts away.
She doesn’t.
In fact, her arms loop behind him and pull him closer, tugging on his hair and his shirt.
John’s not wasting any more time than he already has, walking her backwards into the apartment and shutting the door with his foot before reaching back to lock it- he’s got no desire for any interruptions from wayward former boyfriends.
They separate for a moment as she paws at the hem of his shirt, clearly wanting it off of him. John is all too happy to oblige, preening under her attention. He’s always had the stockier build of a man who’s fitness came from utility in the field, opposed to the hard defined abs of someone who spends most of their time in the gym.
It’s cute, the way she has to pry her eyes up to his face- clearly liking what she sees and flustered by the fact that John can see her staring.
“I broke up with him,” she clarifies.
“Good,” is his simplistic response, although if John’s being honest with himself he doesn’t really care about the finer details. The little prick never deserved to have her and John finally has his chance to prove himself worthy.
“The bedroom’s this way,” she prompts between kisses.
Their clothes are peeled off in turns as they stumble towards the room. The layout is inverted to John’s own flat nextdoor, so despite having never stepped foot inside before he guides her to keep her from crashing into something behind her.
By the time they are collapsing against her bed, they’re stripped of everything except a scant thong on her and his own boxers.
She’s just so delightfully soft in his grip, John can’t keep his hands or his mouth off of her.
The feeling is reciprocated as she pushes up off the bed to grind against him. As much as he’s relishing in them dry humping and making out like teenagers, he’s wanted her for so long and now that she’s finally willing and pliant underneath him, he’s itching for a taste of her.
Kissing his way down her body- starting at her jaw, the column of her neck, across her collar bone, down her sternum; latching onto each nipple and teasing them to hardened peaks before continuing his path down.
He’s compelled by the urge to turn her into a chew toy as he reaches her belly, although he stifles that urge and keeps his teeth to himself.
He can’t quite resist giving a small nip as she squirms, clearly excited by the implication of where he’s heading.
There’s a damp spot on her underwear already as he kisses along the waistband while his hands tease with the elastic on either side of her hips.
The sound of her breath hitching in anticipation makes him smirk, attention drifting further south.
The fabric is in his way as he presses a kiss against her clothed cunt, gripping handfuls of her hips to keep her still as she bucks in his grasp.
“Easy, sweetheart- we’ve got all night,” he soothes before moving his attention up one thigh to the backside of her knee.
Those sweet thighs are splayed open for him, giving John unfettered access as he continues to tease.
“When’s this sweet cunt been eaten last, hm?”
He knows he’s heard her give that undeserving muppet head, but can’t recall any reciprocation occuring. There’s not much that can shock John at this point in his life, and he’s willing to roll the dice by dragging up her now-ex because he knows this poor thing hasn’t been eaten until she’s begging him off in ages.
“I couldn’t even begin to tell you,” she answers breathlessly, anticipating having her thighs twitching in his hold.
Out of the corner of his eye, John spies a torn condom wrapper that didn’t quite make it into the bin. Well that keeps him from having to ask two questions, then. Smart girl.
“What a shame,” he tsks lightly, peppering kisses back up and down her thigh.
Deciding that she’s waited long enough and he’s had his fun being a tease, John is quick to remove the scant lace and pull it off of her legs before tossing it to who-knows-where.
The sounds she makes as he makes a meal out of her is music to his ears. Each hitched moan and breathy whimper makes him stiffen in interest.
His attention shifts to focus on her clit, tongue circling the sensitive nub as his hands hold her hips in place.
As focused as he is on what’s right in front of him, it takes a moment for John to realize that she’s stifling her noises. One hand is fisting the sheets beneath her while the other is clamped across her lips.
Well. That simply won’t do.
The ex may have trained and shamed her into silence, but John didn’t make it as a military captain without learning how to break someone else’s bad habits.
He ignores her whimper of protest as he stops, one hand abandoning the softness of her hip in favor of grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from her mouth.
“None of that,” he admonishes gently, pressing a kiss to one thigh. “Let me hear you.”
“I-I’m too loud,” she protests and for a split second John sees red.
To his credit, he does not leave her wet and leaking on the bed to go bludgeon her ex to death with a blunt object.
“No such thing, sweetheart,” he soothes before having a thought to tease her. “Who are you worried is going to hear you?” He asks kindly, a shit eating grin as he speaks again, “the neighbor?”
Her wide eyed expression is thoroughly scandalized and John can’t fight the chuckle that escapes him.
He hasn’t released her wrist yet, deciding that it’s time to get back to his meal. If she abandons gripping the sheet with her free hand to cover her mouth again, he simply plans to hold both of her wrists.
It’s tentative at first, still not entirely trusting John at his word that he wants to hear her.
But John is all for positive reinforcement as a motivator, crooking his fingers to stroke that one spot that makes her see stars to encourage more from her.
She’s a quick study, although when she releases the sheet John is watching her like a hawk.
Rather than clasping over her mouth again, John is pleased when her fingers end up burying in his hair.
More than happy to let her guide him, John takes his cues from how she pulls at his hair. The feel of her thighs twitching as she breathes in staccato breaths is all the reward he needs.
“You’re getting close,” he says against her cunt, pointing out the obvious before getting back to work. She’s anxious, he thinks, the closer she gets to her climax. Poor girl doesn’t know what to do with herself with an orgasm she hasn’t had to put all the work into.
“D-don’t stop,” she stammers, rewarded immediately with John redoubling his efforts.
He’s not going to stop. Pretty thing like her deserves nothing less than laying on her back and enjoying getting her cunt eaten out.
“O-oh fuck,” is his only warning before she’s gushing on his face and John is like a kid on Christmas morning.
He doesn’t even know if she realizes she’s squirted, too caught up in the pleasure of her high.
He’s always thought it was hot- now that he knows his pretty neighbor is a squirter he is more than willing to get on his knees and pray to whoever is listening that this isn’t a one time event. He’ll do anything to get her to keep him.
Even as her high fades he doesn’t let up on her, continuing to work his middle and ring finger inside of her. All he wants is to see her cum- wants to see those eyes roll as she squeezes them shut in anticipation.
Despite pulling his face away from her wet pussy, he doesn’t leave her clit unattended for long before his thumb is gently circling in time with the thrusts of his fingers.
Kissing his way back up her body, John can’t help but be pleased as she pulls him in to make out with him. Snatched gasps and bucks of her hips grace his ears as he works her from orgasm to the next, the wet sound of his palm slapping against her.
“John Im gonna cum again,” she whimpers in warning.
He feels like a god with the way she stares up at him reverently, eyes wide and desperate for another climax.
“Come on,” he goads, “Show me- let me see your face when you cum.”
Christ if her leg twitches any harder it’s going to start vibrating, serving to only encourage him.
“O-oh,” she mewls, “God- don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t-“ she’s pleading with him like he wouldn’t sit at her feet if she asked him to.
The bewildered look on her face is darling, and John nearly finishes untouched; he's so wound up it’s not going to take much.
A few choice thoughts keep his own eminent climax at bay and buys him enough breathing room. She bucks and trembles in his hold, a high pitched squeal escaping her as he proves not only can he make her cum twice, but he can make her squirt like a faucet twice.
As soon as she’s starting to come down from her high she’s pulling at him, drawing up her knees to spread her legs in invitation.
“Greedy girl,” he teases as he kisses her- wet fingers abandoning her cunt in favor of manhandling her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he positions himself.
“Please, please, please-“ she begs so prettily for him, pleading for him to do exactly what he’s been fantasizing about for months.
He’s not a small man and mindful of that fact, but she’s well prepped and takes him easily. The desperate whimper that escapes her sears into John’s memory.
The buildup of everything finally gets to him as he wastes no time setting a steady pace.
“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Let me hear you,” he encourages as she cants her hips in time with his, whines of pleasure escaping her on each thrust.
“John, please,” she begs, eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as she watches where they’re joined.
“Eyes up here,” he instructs and Christ he almost loses it when her gaze flicks from between their bodies up to his face.
His hands find hers, fingers lacing together as he lowers his torso in order to kiss the ethereal creature underneath him.
She whimpers into his mouth, her sounds only encouraging John.
Everything about her is warm and inviting, from her soft skin to her warm cunt and the way she sings for him at every thrust.
Maneuvering them so he can grip both her wrists with one of his hands, the other immediately dives between their bodies to find her clit again.
His pretty neighbor has spent months not having an orgasm she didn’t give herself, and John is determined to prove to her that he can give her as many as she can handle.
“John I can’t cum again,” she pleads even as her thighs shake on either side of him.
“Yes you can,” he assures her. “One more time for me, yeah?”
Now, should she insist she’s done and satisfied then John would leave her clit alone and finish up their fun. As it is, though, she nods in acquiescence before the trembling in her thighs increases.
“Good girl,” he praises, fingers continuing their steady pace around her clit as she creeps closer to the edge.
She’s babbling in his ear as he presses a kiss to her temple and he knows she’s almost there.
“Good girl,” he praises again, a cocksure grin pulling at the corners of his lips at her immediate response.
“My good girl,” he ups the ante, testing her response to John staking a claim on her. And God did it ever work. That last little bit is all it takes to finally tip her over.
She clenches down on him like a vice and John immediately loses it, groaning low as the haze of his orgasm washes over him.
It’s everything he wants- she’s everything he wants as he recovers enough from his climax to finally notice that the bed is an utter mess beneath them.
It’s not his immediate concern however, more interested in soothing her through the come down of her high. She’s shivering underneath him, eyes glossy from the intensity of her last orgasm.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs reassuringly. “Just breathe for me.”
He gathers her up in his arms, listening as her heartbeat relaxes in time with his own.
Eventually when enough time passes she’s more alert and happily snuggling against his chest. After giving her a chance to rest he herds her along to the bathroom so she doesn’t give herself a UTI. She tries to brush him off but her legs are taking their sweet time cooperating again.
Of course, she’s not exactly a recruit taking a piss test so he gives her her privacy and she’s able to return on her own albeit on shaky legs.
John pets at her head idly, attention drifting in post coital bliss as his hand strokes down along her back.
“I can’t believe you’re actually in my bed,” she giggles deliriously after a stretch of quiet.
“Only reason I wasn’t here sooner was because of that muppet,” he assures her. He doesn’t want her thinking that this is a one time thing for him. He’s wanted her for so long he can’t possibly be expected to turn her loose at the end of the night.
“I only dated him because I didn’t think you liked me,” she scoffs at herself.
“Oh, it was nearly the first moment I laid eyes on you. But with my work I kept talking myself out of doing anything,” he tells her. “Kept telling myself you deserve better. And then you brought the muppet home and kept him around,” John grouses good naturedly at her. “Think they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”
“I plead temporary insanity,” she jokes, snuggling closer against his chest. “But I got rid of him. And you finally made your move.”
He hums in agreement, sleep pulling at him now that he has her tucked up against his side.
John doesn’t remember falling asleep but he wakes with a jolt to the sound of pounding on her door.
He’s only been out for an hour or so when he checks the clock on the nightstand, his neighbor sprawled out next to him.
Well, now he knows she snores. The sound is light enough to have never heard it through the wall, but curled up next to him she’s like a cat purring loudly in his ear.
And he’s exceptionally pissed right off at the fact someone has woken him up. Especially considering he has one guess who it is.
He fully debates answering the door buck ass naked to teach the prick a lesson about banging on doors after midnight but settles on tossing his joggers on.
Much like when she opened the door for John, the ex is automatically trained at where her head would be rather than looking at John’s face.
“My eyes are here,” he quips sarcastically. “Why the fuck are you banging on the door this late.”
“Why th-“ the ex starts to parrot back before cutting himself off. “Why the fuck are you in her apartment? Why isn’t she answering?”
“She’s asleep,” John answers simply. There’s no obligation to explain the why and how he ended up in her apartment.
“What the fuck do you mean she’s asleep? How is she asleep after she just dumped me? And why the fuck are you here?”
The boyfriend (the ex boyfriend, he thinks with glee) is either oblivious or…
Well. The ex boyfriend is oblivious. Let’s just keep it at that.
“I’m here because you can’t do your job right. She’s asleep because I can. What part of that is confusing?”
“That stupid slag’s been fucking you behind my back-“
“No.” John is somewhat mindful of not giving a full on “screaming at recruits” bellow, but his voice booms into the corridor outside the apartment anyway. “You watch your fucking mouth. This” John gestures vaguely at his own presence in her flat, “just happened after she dumped you. You don’t get to hurl insults.”
“She hopped off of my cock and straight to yours- what the fuck else is it?”
“You couldn’t get her off,” John hisses in annoyance. “I’ve had front row seats to your shitty little performance more than once. Not 5 minutes after you leave and she’s having to handle it herself.”
“I can’t be expected to compete with a fucking vibrator!”
“Well I sure as shit didn’t need one to get the job done. Poor girl could barely get her legs to work to go to the loo and not give herself a UTI. Your skill issues are what started all of this.”
“You know what? Fucking have her. I don’t need this shit.”
Ah yes, because John needs the ex’s permission to date a newly single woman. Absolutely. That’s entirely how that works.
“Never needed your blessing. Now fuck off. I’m trying to sleep.”
The ex responds with a two finger salute as he spins on his heel and storms off.
John is almost tempted to grab him by the back of his neck and turn him into a chew toy. Given his military career, his patience for muppets giving him attitude is virtually nonexistent.
But the siren call of his pretty neighbor is a stronger pull than the muppet can ever hope to achieve. John’s succeeded in his mission to run the prick off, and he’s going to try to get a few more hours of sleep before seeing if she’s interested in another romp in the morning when she wakes up.
The bedroom is dark and poorly lit but John immediately picks up on the silence.
Rather than being sprawled out and snoring like when he left her, she’s quiet and curled into a ball.
She’s awake.
“Sweetheart?” He calls softly.
She jolts, fabric rustling from the sheets falling off her as she sits up.
“You’re still here,” the surprise in her tone cuts, although he knows she didn’t mean for it to.
She seems to realize how that comes across and clarifies further, “I- I heard the door shut.”
It falls into place for him then- she woke up to the sound of the door and John nowhere to be found. She thought he’d left.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he consoles, making his way back to the bed. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he assures her while gathering her back into his arms.
Sleep comes back readily once the two of them are situated back in the bed.
Come morning, John’s got the patience and the presence of mind to throw a towel on the bed. He finds out for himself that his neighbor makes the prettiest noises with her arse propped up in the air and her face still buried in her pillow.
He can’t help but laugh later when she texts him that one of the neighbors made a noise complaint.
Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡
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suncoved · 8 months
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STOP IT RAFE, YOU'RE BEING MEAN! — RAFE CAMERON
pairing; bestfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader
summary; rafe has a strict rule that if you ever leave anywhere, you tell him. and when you break that rule, he goes ballistic (bsf!rafe cameron x reader)
warnings ; angst! verbal fighting, angry!rafe, kinda mean rafe, theyre both annoyingly oblivious.. warning this did not turn out how i planned it to be but im also not mad at it, idkkkk
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to say you were bored was an understatement.
it was a regular rowdy saturday night in the outerbanks, this nights party being at a random kooks house on the figure eight whose name you couldn't quite remember
you were nursing a forgotten red solo cup of punch in your hand, crowd-watching to pass the time.
it wasn't normal that rafe actually succeeded in convincing you to come to these things. because as much as you liked chatting with spoiled self-absorbed kooks over disgustingly sweet punch, you'd rather stay cuddled up in your fluffy pyjamas and watch sappy romcoms on rafe's couch.
but nevertheless, here you were. dreading every decision you had ever made up to that point as you watched rafe from across the room. a blonde kook girl climbing over him and straddling his hips, sitting on his lap as he smirked.
you knew you really had no right being mad at him because you weren’t dating.
but from the start of your more than 10 year friendship, rafe made it clear that you were and always will be his.
so why didn’t that rule go both ways?
with all the thoughts bouncing around in your head, you failed to hear a certain blonde pouges voice echo around you.
you snapped out of your state, consciousness returning to your mind as a hand was waved repeatedly in your face.
“hey! you there princess?” a smile adorned the boys face, a ratty snapback placed backwards on his blonde hair.
“yeah, jj. right here” you joked, smiling brightly back at him as you brought your cup up to your lips.
“thought we lost you there for a bit princess? what’d you doing standing here all alone?” jj asked, surprised to see your constant kook king shadow nowhere to be seen.
“just people watching, the usual. where’s kie?” you quickly changed the subject, wanting anything to get your mind off of rafe.
“around here somewhere i hope. gonna’ try to round everyone up to we can get outta here. early morning for us cut goers tomorrow, fish to catch and things to steal” you giggled at his joke, earning an even wider grin on his face.
you always liked jj. you thought he was funny, and he was the most loyal person to his friends that you knew. and despite his manic tendencies, you trusted him.
“have a nice night j. drive safe!” you said, watching him wink at you before he disappeared into the crowd.
with jj gone, you were left to your own thoughts agian, which was never a good thing.
you glanced over again at rafe sitting comfortably on the couch on the deck. the light from inside illuminating his face as he leaned over to the table, picking up a small bag of white powder and handing it to a random touran.
you bit your lip as you noticed the same blonde from before clinging to his side, rafe seeming unbothered but making no move to push her off.
god, you couldn’t even imagine how rafe would react if he saw you speaking to jj earlier. so why is it that he can literally let a girl dry hump him in the middle of a party and you shouldn’t care?
you didn’t know why you cared though, because rafe is you best friend, nothing more.
right?
you didn’t have time to think about that right now though, you just needed to get the fuck out of this party right now or you were gonna explode.
an idea clicked in your brain and jj dragged a drunk john b towards the entrance of the house, kiara and pope following quickly behind.
you decided that this was now or never, placing your red solo cup onto a random table as you walked towards them.
“hey jj!” you called out, his head immediately snapping towards you. “you think you could give me a ride home?”
it was nearly 30 minutes later that rafe noticed you were no longer in your spot in corner of the house. business was coming to a halt as he sold his last few grams of cocaine, a heavy wad of cash safely resting in his back pocket.
his eyes scanned the crowd for your face, but you were no where to be seen.
and rafe was starting to freak the fuck out.
he knew you wouldn’t go upstairs to any bedrooms, or go out for an impulse swim in the pool. and he knew most of all that you wouldn’t just leave without telling him, and the notification box in his voice remained empty from your contact.
he ran his hand roughly through his hair, pulling aggressively at the roots and cussing to himself frustrated.
his eyes widened as he saw your friend in the crowd, interrupting what ever useless conversation she was having, because until he knew you were safe, nothing was more important.
he asked rudely where you were, watching as her face morphed into shock that rafe was talking to her. because well, if it’s not plotting on the pouges or selling drugs, rafe doesn’t interact with anyone but you or his friends.
“i-i im not sure. i saw her leave like a bit less than half an hour ago. i thought she told you, she always does”
rafe clenched his jaw, hundreds and thousands of thoughts running through his head. “was she alone?”
“n-no. she was with that jj guy and his friends” your friend murmured, nervous she was ratting you out to the scariest guy in the whole of kildare.
it was safe to say that rafe was fucking pissed.
it took him less than a few seconds to put his keys into the ignition of his jeep and drive illegally fast to your house. you liked to piss him off often when you were in a mood, but never with your safety.
rafe never fucked with your safety, ever.
he murmured venomous cusses to himself and he walked towards your house, the pebbles from your mothers perfect drive way crunching under his feet as he speed to your door.
he made a beeline to the entrance of your home, the white arches welcoming and the doorway dimly lit by the porch lights.
he planted his feet straight on the 'welcome home' door mat, lifting his balled fist up to the door and sending booming knocks to the wood panel.
his knuckles were white as he clenched his fists so hard together there was sure to be crimson-red crescent indents from his fingernails. he was fuming.
the click of the lock releasing from the door snapped him out of his thoughts, the door handle turning and the lobby of the inside of your house quickly coming into view.
he locked eyes with your figure immediately, a pink fluffy towel in your hand as you dried your hair. you were only wearing a pair of long socks and rafes shirt which reached more than halfway down your thighs, your face bare of makeup.
you jumped as you saw the look on his face, an anger prevalent in his stare that you had never seen directed at you. fuck. you were in some deep shit.
you parted your lips to speak, but nothing seemed to come out. for the first time in your life, you were scared of rafe. not that he was going to harm you physically, no, never that.
but you knew how much he cared about you and your safety. you just wished he cared that much about your feelings. you wanted him to see that.
"rafe" you said, your voice coming out as a whisper as you watch the lines on his forehead crease together as thousands of thoughts ran through his head.
"what the fuck were you thinking?" he spat as he pushed you as softly as he could into the house so he could close the door, worried the cold of the night was going to make you shiver.
you didn't have time to answer before he started again, running a hand roughly through his hair as he huffed. "you just left? you fucking left a party at night without even texting me, and you let that fucking pouge drive you home!"
you rolled your eyes at the last statement, this was all about jj? "so that's all you care about? me going home with a boy i've known since third grade who just so happens to live on the cut? you don't give a shit about me, you just care about this stupid kook pouge rivalry!"
"don't say what you know isn't true ma. you know i care about you more than i care about myself." he stated, nearly all the anger in him draining out as he saw your eyes begin to fill with tears. he couldn't handle seeing you cry.
"how do i know you care about me rafe? because you don't seem to show it." you sighed pushing yourself as far away from him as you could, your back pushing up against the wall.
"don't fucking say to me y/n. i've loved you from the moment i met you." you finally stopped looking at the floor, lifting your chin so you made eye contact with him.
"stop it rafe, you're being mean" you whispered, mostly to yourself more than rafe. you couldn't listen to him say how much he loved and cared about you for one more second. not when you still had the picture of him being essentially dry-humped in the middle of a party by a girl you didn't even know.
"ma i love you. you know that. you're my world, my favourite girl. why are you fighting this?" rafe said, trying to hold you wrist in his hand before you quickly pulled it away.
"bec-because you can't just say all this then turn around and have make outs with other girls right in front of me. it-its not fair." you spoke, the tears finally making their way down your cheeks in steady streams.
rafe physically flinched at your statement, his palms getting sweaty and his heart rate increasing into rapid beats. was he actually going to admit his love for you right now, like this?
"what are you saying y/n?" he asked, his voice cracking as his face fell. his mind racing with how many outcomes could come out of this conversation.
"that i love you, you idiot!"
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pupkashi · 9 months
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the last person you expect to patch you up is gojo satoru, so why are you knocking on his door?
a/n: hi friends! i hope you enjoy this :] im not sure if i like it very much but I’ll let u guys pick it apart and decide if i should be run off the app or not :P please let me know what u guys think !!
wordcount: 1,376
masterlist
you’re hesitant to knock on the door you’re facing, one arm squeezing your middle and the other holding you up against the wall. you’re sure you looked like we’re about to die, but still you could help but feel like death was a better option than knocking on gojo satoru’s door at 2 in the morning.
the stinging in your side leaves you no choice, lifting your hand and knocking three times. every passing second seems eternal and you almost want to just walk away and head to campus, hoping you make it until morning.
the door swings open, satoru looks at you with wide eyes and messy hair. he looks so normal, you think, taking in his appearance of sweatpants and a t shirt he must’ve thrown on seconds before.
“what the fuck happened to you?” he breathes out, not hesitating to pick you up, carrying you to his restroom and flicking the light on. if you were any more lucid you might’ve caught the genuine concern in his voice and the pounding heart in his chest.
“think the higher ups hate me” you manage to chuckle out, sucking in a sharp breathe when you try to sit up on your own.
satoru is quick to help you up, large hands gently handling you. his brows are furrowed as he looks at the state you’re in.
“why didn’t you call up shoko or go to campus or- literally anything else?!” he scold you, his voice is a higher pitch than you’re used to, he’s running his hands through his hair, tugging slightly before sighing deeply and calming himself down.
“didn’t wanna bother ‘em” you say, voice small. gojo knows in his mind you of all people could never be a bother, especially when shoko absolutely loves you.
“can i take this off?” he asks softly, tugging at your uniform top. you nod weakly, letting him work the fabric off you gently, sucking his teeth when he sees the gash on your side.
“that bad huh?” you laugh, there’s a beat of silence that you find unbearable. your eyes are heavy and the only way you can muster staying awake is by talking, words leaving your mouth without even thinking, “not gonna tell me ‘I’ve had worse’ or ‘this is nothing’ ?”
satoru only brings himself to snicker, “you’re about to pass out and you still wanna bicker with me.”
“to be fair it’s always you starting shit” you chuckle, hissing when he starts cleaning your wound. satoru mumbles a small ‘sorry’ before continuing.
you weren’t completely wrong, satoru always loved seeing you riled up. he loved watching the way the fire ignited behind your eyes when you shot something back at satoru, he loved watching your nose scrunch up when he said something stupid, he loved how you’d fight back smiles when he disrespected some asshole higher up.
“yeah, yeah, you're always saying that” he smiles, finishing up whatever he could on your side before moving to the cuts on your face.
you were still as he gently dabbed the wipes on your face, the slight stinging feeling was the last thing on your mind. the smell of his body wash was muddling your thoughts, the way his fingertips brushed against your skin gave you goosebumps.
“who sent you on the mission?” his voice was no longer playful and light. there was an edge to his voice as he spoke, and you couldn’t stop the chills that ran down your spine.
the only thing you could muster was a small shrug of your shoulders.
“it was the higher ups from last time, wasn’t it? the one you stood up to?” his voice is threatening and low, blue eyes boring into you as you tried to avoid eye contact.
“y/n, look at me” the stern tone left no room for protest, looking at him and gulping. you nodded your head, whispering a small ‘yeah.’ satoru mumbled something you couldn’t hear, his jaw clenched and hands shaking slightly.
“I’m going to kill them” he spat, taking a step back before look at you again, the sight filling him with even more rage.
“didn’t you say that wouldn’t change anything?” you stated, sitting up as best you could, trying your best to hide the pain you felt from the sudden movement.
satoru ignored your words, already making a move to head out of the bathroom door, but your voice stopped him.
“don’t- i don’t wanna be alone” you whispered, eyes watering a bit as the reality of the situation hit you all at once. “i just- nevermind” you laughed dryly, hissing as you pushed yourself off the countertop and stood.
satoru was immediately at your side holding you up, “what are you-” your words cut him off before he could finish.
“I’m gonna go home, don’t wanna bother you more than i have” you smiled, eyes still a bit teary. you’re brain doesn’t process what’s happening fast enough, only realizing what’s happening a couple seconds later when satoru’s arms are wrapped around your body.
“you aren’t going anywhere” he mumbles against the top of your head, squeezing you gently.
the warmth of his body is enough to comfort you, muscles relaxing and letting your tears spill against his chest.
“why?” you whisper, the question causing satoru to tense up against you. “why do you care so much?”
his thoughts stop for a second, the only thing on his mind is you. the way you’re looking at him in a way you never have before, with an emotion he can’t place. he can only think of one thing.
“isn’t it obvious?” he replies, voice soft, his cheeks heating up and ears burning. he’s trying to hide the slight tremble of his hands as he caressed your cheek softly, thumb wiping away a stray tear.
“only obvious thing about you is your ego” you smile, laughing a bit between sniffles as satoru gasps at you.
“and you say i start things?” he giggles, picking you up softly before leading you to his bedroom. the two of you in a comfortable silence as he looks through his drawers, handing you one of his shirts and shorts for you to change into.
“you can drop me off at home-” you begin but satoru is quick to speak over you.
“I’ll sleep on the couch, there’s some toothbrushes in the top drawer under the sink,” he says, continuing to list off any other items you’d need and where to find them.
it’s ten minutes later and you’re laying in the large bed, staring at the ceiling when you find the energy to walk into the hallway, peeking around the corner and into the living room.
satoru smiled at you, the bright tv lights illuminating his figure, “cant sleep?” he asks. you nod your head, slowly making your way towards him. “c’mere” he says softly, gently moving you when you sit on the couch, letting you cuddle into his side until you were comfortable.
between the exhaustion and the comfort of satoru’s fingers running along your arm you were sound asleep in a matter of minutes (10, satoru was counting). he placed a feathery kiss to the top of you head, shifting to pick you up, carrying you to his bed and tucking you in, slipping besides you before facing the opposite direction.
you stirred a bit, mumbling something and causing satoru to turn, “y/n?” he whispered. you seemed to gravitate towards him, one of your arms finding him and tugging his shirt, making him come closer to you. still asleep, you nuzzled yourself against him, sighing softly before stilling again.
satoru draped his arm around you, keeping you close before letting his eyes shut. for tonight, he won’t think about the thing he’ll say and do to the higher ups who sent you on that mission as punishment.
instead he’ll hold you close, keeping you safe and making sure you’re well enough to argue on any and every thing possible. he’ll make you breakfast tomorrow and ask if you feel the same for him. he’ll rush you to shoko so he can kiss you with as much passion and fervor as he’s imagined since the time you almost beat him in an argument.
taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @luna0713hunter @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags
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kosije · 5 months
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c/w ★ ׂ duke!miguel x fem!afab reader. smut. all smut. miguel tries to exercise restraint. spoiler alert: he fails. sins in silk extra <3
duke!miguel o'hara: who enjoys taking you in the most compromising of places.
he'll fuck you in the garden, behind the tall bushes of flowers taunting you on how loud you're getting.
"oh princess, i don't think it would fool anyone if they heard the flowers calling my name. if you can't bite your tongue, even the k-kingdom next door will hear of this."
"heavens," he groans. "i bet you'd like that, huh? want everyone to know how you have the best fucking cunt, yeah?" he all but moans into the back of your neck. "too bad it's all for me."
he'll excuse himself from the table just to eat you out inside the kitchen storage room, away from your father, his colleagues, and the cooks.
messily making out with your puffy pussy, moaning into your mound when your hand pulls on his hair. "m' baby needs 't don't she?" he slurs like a drunk man. his large hands wrap around, digging into the meat of your thighs only to pull himself in deeper. you're having trouble keeping your voice down, but thankfully the kitchen is a mess of noise and masks your low mewls and his groans completely.
he sneaks back to the table while you to your chambers, but you don't miss his cheeky "oh, im afraid i've already eaten dessert."
his favorite place, however, is the place he took you for the first time. he takes his time in those moments. working you up, till you almost break, then taking you apart only to put you back together over and over again.
slowly licks up your neck, with your legs fold in front of you, he pistons himself in and out of you. your antsy hands drop from your thighs to his back, up to his neck, and down into the sheets, crying out at how deep he fucks you—at how much you can see how he's been needing you. how he's been missing you.
it's in the way he kisses and worships your body, the way he whimpers whenever he's inside you, how he looks at you, even while around so many people at your father's party. how big they got when they saw you, how wrinkled the sides were when he smiled. in the way he holds you after he's fucked you—tight and warm. how he nuzzles into your neck, kissing your shoulder, completely flush to you.
but you're no better. calling out for him whenever you touch yourself, wearing his favorite color every time he comes around, with matching panties. how you wrap your hands over his arms, kissing the meat of them. how you hide little gifts, sonnets you've worked, sweets you've baked, intimates you've worn. and the way when he writes you back, "thanking you," you feel like you could die.
it's easy to secretly write about him. gush to yourself about your scandalous love with "mr. frown," you write for hours. tuck them safely into the hole inside your closet that you made when you were younger. you write all the days you don't see him, and when you do you always have to mention something from them.
"i wish time would stop when we are together, so we can see what forever feels like."
"i need you more and more every time we part. you take a piece of me with you i desperately need back. that spins and leaps inside of you when you see him again.
"if only you'd stay tonight, then my room wouldn't feel so empty."
when you tell him this, with that sparkly look in your eyes, he pauses. looking you over.
"it won't be good for us, princess."
"why is that?"
"i won't—i won't be able to control myself, just not safe for us."
"you don't know that," you all but plead. "you have to at least be curious, of what can happen if we try?"
he understands what you're referring to because those same thoughts bounce around his mind whenever he's alone, missing you. those pestering "what if's," that keep him up, keep him wondering. the ones that eat at his resolve.
so even though it's risky, and is no good for him at all, he sinks back into your bed. kisses the back of your neck, nosing your baby hairs, and whispers a weak, "i can never say no to you"
and for a night, you two don't have to spend it missing something.
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faith369 · 3 months
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Just imagine calling Price daddy as a joke but it kinda backfires
Pairing: Captain John Price x fem!reader
Warnings: p in v, mdni, nsfw, condescending (slight), daddy kink
Price, who glared your way the second he heard you calling him daddy, shaking his head slightly but writing it off as a one time joke, while trying to ignore the twitching inside his pants. He is however quick to realize that it is not a one time event and has to take a deep breath as you walk around with a grin plastered on your face every time you use his now least favorite nickname. He isnt even that old.
Price, who walks around with a raging boner in his pants while on base, thinking about you moaning the word he dismays so much, while stuffing your pussy.
Price, who gets fed up and bends you over the counter after you use the nickname again. Grinding his clothed bulge against your dripping cunt after he pulled down your pants. His voice sounds gruff behind you.
"Not as confident now, huh? My poor baby can't even talk anymore. Hmm, don't worry, daddy's going to take care of you"
You whine, wanting more friction, and John eagerly gives in, freeing his leaking cock from his jeans ramming it into your tight heat while his hands slip under your shirt, groping your breasts.
"Come on, be good say it again; then I'll help you."
The second he hears the word out of your mouth, he starts pounding into you, drawing moans from you. He ignores any pleas to slow down out of overstimulation and instead lets one of his hands move to your clit, making you clench around him.
Price, who pulls out, not letting you reach your orgasm, leaves your aching cunt empty except for his cum.
"Stop whining, that's what happens when you're a naughty girl"
A/N: Im bacccckkk big sorry for nor writing I was kinda in a slump anyways requests are open and happy to be answered <333
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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months
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tears snot and drool
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words: 1.6k
warnings: 18+ ONLY! SMUT, DARK!RAFE, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, NONCON, R*PE, FORCED ANAL, kind of r*pe kink from reader?, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cum play, degradation, dacryphilia, brief male receiving oral and brief mention of fingering
“so good for me, darling.” rafe drawls out, his voice deep and smooth as he pushes forward, sinking into you. “so tight.”
“slow-” you gasp out when rafe pushes in again, his hips swinging into yours in a smooth motion. “slow down, please rafey.”
“you feel so good.” rafe says, ignoring your pleas, ignoring your hands pushing at his hips, trying to stop his thrusts, trying to squirm away, but he grips your waist, holding you down into the mattress.
“it-it hurts.” you plea as his fat cock juts into you, feeling like you’re being split in half.
“stop fucking squirming.” rafe grunts. he liked it at first, liked you trying to get away, knowing he was too big for you, but now he’s starting to get upset, wanting you to let him fuck you without the whining. “if it hurts, you wouldn’t be so fucking wet.”
you hear it then, the wet sounds every time rafe pushes inside you, your pussy squelching as he fucks into your wetness, falling down your body, making a mess of the sheets.
“im gonna bruise.” you complain, already feeling the soreness on the walls of your cunt, knowing when he fucks you again in the morning, like he always does, that its going to hurt more than usual. rafe likes to build you up, likes to fuck you with his fingers while you moan on his lap, and you appreciate him warming you up and stretching you open, but he came home in a mood, pushing you down onto the bed and stripping you, shoving his cock in your opening without any prep.
“i dont give a shit.” rafe grunts out. you’re supposed to be his little plaything, supposed to be ready to be a toy for him whenever he needs.
“stop, stop!” you whine, finally being able to move, even with his hands squeezing your waist so tight it hurts. you manage to get away, for his cock to fall out of your cunt. you try to move up the bed, body shaking as you feel tears sliding down your cheeks.
rafe moves faster than you can, taking those hands on your waist and flipping you onto your stomach. you try to get on your hands and knees, try to crawl away, but rafe presses his chest into your back, using his massive size to pin you against the mattress.
“no, let me go!” you shout, feeling rafes cock push against you, rubbing against your ass as his hand grabs your wrist, holding them together above your head, preventing you from fighting.
“this is what you get for being a fucking brat.” rafe spits into your ear. he reaches down with his free hand, grasping his cock, still splitting hard. he rubs the head through your pussy, wetting his length, but he moves past your cunt.
“no!” you squeal, trying to buck your hips, but rafe delivers a hard slap to your ass to get you to stop.
rafe presses his cock against your other hole, the tight ring of muscle not opening up to him, not when you are strung so tight, muscles clenching.
“fucking relax for me before i force myself in.” rafe warns, but you can’t, you can’t calm down as tears flow down your face. 
rafe keeps the base of his cock held tightly in his hand as he shoves into your asshole, the stretch causing you to scream as he continues in, slowly, but only because he can’t move any faster with how tight your squeezing him.
“it hurts so bad, stop, please, fuck my pussy, just stop!” you beg, willing to let him destroy your cunt if it could keep your ass from hurting this bad.
“its too late.” rafe says, rocking his hips forward, moving one hand to your ass, gripping the flesh and spreading your cheeks open for him, your hole already turning bright red from his abuse.
rafe eventually opens you up a bit, allowing him to move faster as he pounds his hips down into you, a slapping sound every time his skin connects with the plushness of your bum.
you give up, give up on trying to get away as you sob into the mattress, not caring that you are staining rafes sheets with your tears, snot and drool.
“dont cry baby, you’re gonna make me fuck you even harder.” rafe smirks, liking seeing you like this, trapped under his muscles, hands held tight above your head, a complete wreck.
“i hate you.” you grit out, twisting your head to see rafe out of the corner of your eye, his jaw slackened open in a moan. you bare your teeth to him, the pain obvious on your face as he continues to fuck you, your cunt still leaking onto the bed.
“i know you do. and you’re still gonna let me fuck you.” rafe says. he’s done this one too many times, used you when you didn’t want it to happen, only for him to apologize and shower you with kisses, getting you to spread your legs once again for him.
“no i wont.” you vow, vow to yourself in the moment, but despite the pain, it feels to good, too good to get rafes attention, even if it meant him violating your asshole. you’d be back. you’ll always come crawling right back.
“whatever you say baby girl.” rafe laughs, mocking you as he moves deeper, making your feet kick out uncontrollably, unable to help the movements as sharp pain stabs through your insides. “want me to touch your clit?”
“yes.” you cry out, knowing the pleasure would help distract you from his cock splitting you in two, breaking you in half.
“tell me you love me then. tell me you love my cock, that you love me forcing myself on you.” rafe spits out, moving his hand from holding your wrists to grip either side of your ass, moving faster as he puts every pound of his weight into every thrust.
“no!” you shout out. you can’t say such sweet words to him, not when your nails are clawing at the sheets and he’s pumping inside of your ass. not right after you told him you hated him.
“then you don’t get to cum.” rafe says. he wants you to cum, he always does, he just prioritizes himself first.
“fine!” you whine out, lifting your hips up, wondering if a different angle will help the pain, and you let out a low moan when the thrusts suddenly become pleasurable, at least somewhat as he hits a new spot inside of you. “i love you!”
rafe smiles, moving a hand to your clit, rubbing over your sensitive bud without caring how harsh the rough pads of his fingers feel. 
“you gonna cum for me little whore?” rafe questions. 
you don’t give him a response, but you know he feels the way your clit pulses underneath his fingertips, still able to force an orgasm out of you despite the state he’s put you in.
“want me to cum in your ass? or should i fill your pussy up?” rafe asks. “switch to your other hole, breed you?”
you’re on birth control, and rafe knows it too, but it doesn’t stop him fantasizing about filling you up, making your tummy swell with his kid, just another way of possessing you, owning you.
“fuck you.” you manage to grit out, hating the semblance of choice, as if rafe won’t do what he wants, like he always does.
rafe smirks, knowing you are about to cum as he moves faster, jackhammering into you at a blistering pace, all from his need to get off as well.
you feel his cock swell inside of you as his fingers pinch harshly at your clit, trying to get you to cum in time with him.
“fuck!” rafe shouts out, releasing into your ass as you cum as well, your high hitting you like a brick wall as you scream out, rafes nails digging into your clit as his cum floods your ass, long spurts filling you up.
rafe collapses against you, his hand moving from underneath you on your cunt as you ride out your orgasm with no stimulation, making you whine as his weight squishes you, taking the breath out of your lungs.
rafes breathing slowly returns to normal while you struggle underneath him, tears still flowing down your cheeks.
he finally manages to move his tired muscles, kneeling over you before pulling his cock out, watching as his cum begins to spill. rafe places a hand on your cheek, spreading your ass open as it falls out in white globs.
“such a tight little hole.” rafe pushes his pointer finger against your skin, rubbing the cum around. “i’m gonna have to play with it more often.”
you press your face into the mattress as his finger enters you, not caring that your cheek is now pressed against the wet spot of your saliva and snot. 
“please.” you manage to whimper out. you’ve had too much for tonight. you can’t even fight him back, can’t clench your ass to stop his finger from entering your abused tunnel.
“fine.” rafe sighs, pulling his finger out, but not before slapping his hand over your ass. “but my cock is still hard. pussy or mouth?”
you move as rafe does, flopping down against the bed, his head on the pillows. you lay yourself between his legs, thighs still shaking, but glad that the mess that is your private parts is going to be left alone for a while as you grasp his cock in your hand, sinking your lips down, wondering how much longer he is going to play with you for tonight.
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @rvfecamerons
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imsilay · 7 months
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Dozakh
i’m back? :>
word count: 1k
not smut just obsessed, manipulative König. also not very proofread cus im lazy and have no time T-T
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cr: @gruhhhuu
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His heart skipped a beat when you pushed him away. He just wanted to kiss you like he always did, but you didn't seem to be in a mood for it. Because you were determined to talk about what had been bothering you. "We need to talk, König." His eyebrows frowned with confusion and hunger. He needed your taste, and he wanted it now.
“Nein. Come here.” he growled, pulling you back into his arms and wrapping them tightly around your body, trapping your arms and leaving you no room to move. You struggled and squirmed to break free, only making him angrier. "Scheiße." He lifted you up, sitting with you on the couch. "Fine. Talk." he said, breathing impatiently, still holding you down in his arms.
His big, calloused hand ran through your hair as he tilted your chin up to meet his eyes. "I need some space." you murmured, trying to push him away once again to put some distance between your bodies. He sucked a sharp breath, squeezing your body to stop your movements. The moment you told him that you wanted to be at your apartment for a week to think about your relationship, his brain stopped working completely. How would he continue living without you? How would he eat, sleep and breathe? It was already difficult for him to be away when he was deployed, but how could you expect him to survive without you? "Ja? Why?" his voice sounded calm yet cold. You sighed and attempted to explain: "It's overwhelming, I know you love me, and you want me close, but this," gesturing to your place on his lap and his arms holding you firmly when his voice was cold like ice. "This doesn't feel like love. I love you. I really do, but I don't know if I like being so... clingy." you watched his jaw clench as you spoke. He was always like this, getting angry whenever you mentioned leaving. His arms tightened around your midsection, as if he feared you would slip away. You could hear his breathing, feel his searching eyes scan your face and body. He wanted to be brutal, but couldn't quite lose himself yet. Not yet, at least.
"You think I'm clingy, meine kleine?" he trailed off as his hand wrapped around your throat, not in a menacing manner, but enough to make your breath hitch. "I just wanted to show you how much I love you..." His thumb caressed your pulse, feeling it increase with every passing second. "You can't leave me... You couldn't live without me. That feeling will fade. You'll get used to it." he mumbled and pulled you under his mask, kissing you breathless until you forgot why you were pushing him. His lips devoured yours with such hunger it made your head spin. He pulled back for air and saw that you had a blank look on your face. “See? You didn’t actually want to leave.” he said, his voice slightly hoarse from lust. You panted and tried to catch your breath as he kept you just inches away. It was hot under his mask and his cologne was intoxicating. The arms around your waist slid into your shirt, and his fingers caressed your soft skin. You shivered and softly sighed at the feeling of his big palm covering your body. "König, not again." you sighed, as you tried to resist the temptation he was casting. "I'm not doing anything." he pouted playfully, and kissed you again. The kiss was soft, but you felt the hunger. You felt as if you saw a spark of possession in his eyes. "I know what you're trying to do." you said as he broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against yours. "What do you mean?" he mumbled, but you could still feel his hand squeeze your waist and his fingers dig into your skin. He moved closer and said, "I'm just showing you my love, meine kleine. Your lips are so addicting." As you tried to turn away, he growled and kissed your lips again, this time, forcefully. He then started moving downward to your neck, cheeks, and even your ears, without hesitation. You were his, and it didn't seem that you had a choice. He was marking you with red hickeys on your neck and jaw. When you tried to push him away, he caught your hands and pinned them between your bodies, holding your wrists with one hand. He used his other hand to grip your neck and hold you in place, stealing your breath away. "König, please stop!" you yelled. He finally stopped with your yelling. His eyes wide, and his pupils dilated, making him look like a starving predator, and you his sole prey. "Don't leave," he breathed, leaning in to kiss you again. You pulled your head out of his mask for some much-needed oxygen. You hoped he'd calm down even a little, but he didn't. Instead, he nearly ripped his mask off and glared at you, his jaw tightly clenched and his eyes filled with determination. "Can't you see how desperate I am? How could you abandon me?" he pulled your head closer using his grip on your throat and growled into your ear. Then a moment later, he began trembling, and tears filled his eyes. You felt his desperation and started to feel guilty. He let go of your wrists and moved both of his hands to hold your waist. "I'm sorry, darling. I'm not going to leave you. Don’t cry." you mumbled. You wiped away the tears. Your heart ached as you saw his tear-filled eyes, and you felt an urge to pull him closer. The sound of your voice, that sweet murmur of surrender, was the sweetest music to him. All he had wanted this whole time was you. And you were here. In his arms. He leaned forward and captured your lips. A hot, hungry, desperate kiss.
After the kiss he hugged you and buried his head into your neck as if inhaling your smell directly into his soul. “You’re so easy, but you’re mine.” he mumbled against your skin and kissed your neck softly. He smirked when you worriedly apologized and tried to soothe him. It always worked. If his words didn’t, his tears would definitely…
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a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc <3 your comments also makes my day :* and i love to reply all of them :>
hii ~(T-T)/~ i have a really busy studying schedule that’s why im not online like before :’) but writing is my therapy AND my acc isn’t abandoned (i’m barely looking at my phone screen)
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yzashaven · 6 months
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2023 KINKTOBER︰10﹒06
꒰ —♡ C O R R U P T I O N ﹒ K I N K ꒱
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EVENT MASTERLIST !
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FEATURING ! archon!scara, lyney, dottore, kaeya x fem!reader
WARNINGS ! corruption obvs!!, reader wearing a collar, shibari/bondage, electrostimulation, cunnilingus + fingering, mentions of using aphrodisiac, dottore's clones involved, some name calling, praise + degradation
NOTE ! wow so early!!! (not) i can't tag some people again.... erm... anyway!!! i overused a few words here ngl—also 2 are proofread, 2 aren't. thank u all for your patience i've been so busy with school it's tiring 😭😭
[ chérie - darling, amour - love ]
event taglist— @yukiitaooo @scara6 @kanaedd @ciarchivez @returningluv @im-the-ruler-here @kateybuggi @asimpforpeople @ju1yyyzzz @saturnsapothecary @supercoolusernameomg @uchihaeirin @anon-eu @gojoswife201 @abeitriz @mechanical-lily @breadybuu @dawning-bliss @poisonedmoonl1ght @nothingfuninthislife @eunchaeluvr @cuntz0ne @zomzomb1e @bitchylillyrose @zxdksimpo @kikosaidbye @bleubirdinthesky @rottmntrulesall @angelofdarkness2 @kvronushi @adeptuscharm
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—ARCHON!SCARAMOUCHE
corrupting you is a piece of cake for scaramouche; it's his favorite thing to do. an adorable, obedient, little shrine maiden as his personal slut? all for himself at his mercy? sign him up. oh and of course, to make sure you take all that he gives with no resistance whatsoever—he'll make sure to tie you up one way or another. in this case, he decided to take it easy, bounding your wrists together at your back while a collar was around your neck.
"there you go~" he coos in a teasing manner, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he guides you in riding him. "feels good, hm?" all that you could do was nod and moan helplessly in response as you let him take full control over your body, "mmh, now that i'm thinking of it, you've never been fucked properly before, right?" he grins darkly as he sees you nod; it's true, he is your first after all. a whimper slips past your lips when he abruptly pulled out before situating you down onto the soft velvet sheets of the mattress, pushing your legs further down until you were practically folded in half, "this is what you call a mating press, doll~" he chuckles before slamming his cock inside you once again, pulling at the leash attached to your collar roughly, causing your eyes to widen as you looked up at him. "oh, don't look at me like that, darling. i might just have to fuck you harder~" and as per his words, his hips began to sharply buck against yours as he observed each and every one of your moans, from the quiet ones to the loud ones that ripped through your throat and making your voice crack out of pure pleasure. not even a minute later, you squirt around his cock whilst it was still thrusting in and out of you at a quick and rough pace, "so adorable~" a scream was drawn from you as his fingers went down to your clit to unexpectedly send a short, weak zap of electro as a way to stimulate you further. "oh come on, i know you like that~ you're just a shy little slut waiting for the right man to break you apart, huh? well... luckily for you, your god himself will be the one ruining you real good~"
—LYNEY SNEZHEVICH
hear me out... soft dom lyney teaching you the ways of romance through intense intimacy and pushing your limits. :3 stimulating you with endless, overwhelming pleasure!!
"can you do one more for me, chérie~?" lyney's fingers and mouth have been skillfully dealing with you for a while now; digits thrusting inside you as they hit all the perfect spots so delicately, his lips wrapped around your swollen clit, gently licking and nibbling on the sensitive bud. you let out whimpers as he continued just that, "you've already came for me so many times, hehe~ a reward should be granted, yes?" before you could protest and say anything at all, he stands up from where he was kneeling and pulls you by the thighs towards the edge of the bed, "mmh~ your sweet fluids are all over your thighs now..." he frowns, "...let me fix that and fill you up with my own cum, hmm~?" without another warning, he easily slides his cock inside your warmth, letting out a small moan at the feeling of your walls engulfing him whole. "feels so good, amour~" he teases as his eyes were fixated on your reactions—body shaking as your lips were parted, gasping for air, moaning and whimpering softly as he started a gentle pace that slowly increased in intensity. "oh, that fucked out look on your face looks so innocent... yet so dirty at the same time~"
—IL DOTTORE
oh, the doctor, experimenting once again, like always! now... who's the best test subject for a rather "intimate" one? of course, his innocent lover.
"how do you feel, my pet?" he says and pats your head gently like how he would to a dog. his thrusts within your cunt were slow and deep, deliciously stretching you out with each snap of his hips, "i knew it... your tough demeanor earlier was nothing but a thin shield. you really thought you could resist me?" he lets out a small laugh, mocking you, "you're just a weak girl on the inside, waiting for someone to tear her pride and dignity to shreds~" he chuckles darkly and reaches forward to fondle at your breasts delicately, "i can't wait to slowly break you apart~" suddenly, he snaps his hips forward as the pace of his thrusts increases, along with the force he was putting in it, constantly hitting your g-spot perfectly. "hah~ that aphrodisiac must be kicking in by now, no? you already look so fucked out and i can feel you getting wetter by the second." he says in a teasing manner, spreading your legs further apart with the help of his clones to hold you down as some of them were touching your cheek delicately, your neck, and your breasts. dottore's hand that was fondling you going down to grip on your hips to steady his rough pace, "focus on me, darling. focus on who's fucking you~" all of that was enough to send you over the edge as you cum hard, walls contracting around his cock that was still busy abusing your pussy, using it as roughly as he always wanted to. "i'm gonna turn you into the sluttiest whore ever~"
—KAEYA ALBERICH
oh... this sly, flirty, smooth talking cavalry captain. he always thought your pure and innocent nature was so adorable, it was his favorite trait of yours. he thinks he's so lucky to have that same girl bent over his desk, begging for more of his rough loving.
"whore." kaeya spat out, thrusting hard inside your cunt from behind as his hand firmly grips at your ass, spanking it. "look at you... moaning all for me, begging for my cock. you that addicted already, huh?" you nod, "good." he smirks mischievously as you let out a lewd scream the moment the tip of his cock kissed your g-spot delightfully, again and again, driving you insane and making your body jolt with each buck of his hips. "fuck—you're too good~ come on, beg me some more. beg me to fuck you senseless~" with a rough thrust forward, it hits a deep part of you that had you cum undone for the umpteenth time. "oh?" kaeya sighs softly, "how am i gonna make you beg when all that's slipping out of your pretty lips are lewd moans and mumbles? hmm~?" he say in a teasing way, "fine then, just keep moaning for me, 'kay~?" his fingers find their way to your clit, pleasuring you further by rubbing it in a way that matched the pace of his thrusts; his other hand making its way up to wrap his long fingers around the back of your neck, holding you down, cheek pressed flat against the cold wood of the table. "even without saying a word, i know all you want right now is for me to fuck you~ just be a good girl and take it all, and i'll keep giving you more~"
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007reid · 6 months
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request for reader having dated spencer (early seasons) and then she finds out what happened w lila </3
hi hi hi!! sorry this took a while hun :( you were vague with your req so i just wrote whatever i wanted to write and because of that i meant for this to be a drabble but it didn't work out that way... enjoy!
secrets. spencer reid
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part 1 | part 2
pairing: spencer reid x jealous fem!reader, 1.8k
summary: spencer will never be able to escape the effortless wrath of derek morgan, not even when it's the weekends and breaking bad is playing and you're pulling on his hair.
warnings: no smut you filthy animals, though i did intend there to be smut im just in a fluffy mood rn :// tiny angst if you squint, spencer's blushin a LOT, morgan's evil, bickering and just cutesy couple stuff. me when.
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spencer’s secret was the last thing that you were, and you know this.
you and spencer have been dating for three months now, not including the two months talking stage because spencer is deadly afraid of commitment, and between all that time, you’d say you’ve gotten to know spencer pretty well. you know him well enough to trust that he knows what’s best, anyway. it’s been three months, and spencer hasn’t uttered a word about you to his team, his family, and you understand why.
really. you do.
“they’ll never let me live in down,” spencer had whined, one person imminent on his mind. derek fucking morgan. spencer dreads just thinking about it, the teasing, the inappropriate jokes, the winks and the whistles. it’s dehumanizing. “when someone ask me or mention something about it, i will tell them. until then…”
the unspoken reason was there. spencer’s a talker, definitely a talker, but he doesn’t spend much time talking about himself. he never reveals a bit of himself unless he’s directly asked it, and he feels uncomfortable sharing otherwise. the team’s too used to spencer being physically and emotionally repellent to the female race to really ask about stuff like you anymore, and spender’s not too eager to share neither. not out of the blue. it’s unlike him. this you understand. 100%. locked safely in the noggin.
you never think much about it anyway. it doesn’t bother you. what bothers you, though, is secrets.
you know spencer has loads of those, tucked behind that carefree and open-hearted smile and attitude of his. you examine him carefully, searching his face for ticks—okay, maybe you were just looking really creepily because he’s pretty and you try to commit every feature into memory but you are, searching for ticks that is.
you know he hides things. somethings not worth bringing up again because it’ll only bring up bad memories. some other things, however, definitely worth mentioning again. you just have to find the right target questions. sometimes it feels like you’re dating a stranger, with how little you know about spencer’s life. sometimes it feels like you’re dating the love of your life. it’s all very relative.
you and spencer are cuddled up on the couch, breaking bad playing on the tv. it’s one of the shows spencer doesn’t like pointing out the scientific inaccuracies of because he’s too fond of the main character to really say that he’s wrong, and sometimes you miss his voice chiming in between all the movie’s dialogues, but you think the reason why he’s quiet today is because he’s not in the mood to talk. the last case’s gotten him pretty shaken up, and he’s still healing, head in your neck every night and when he pulls away your skin is damp with tears.
“you okay spence?” you say, moving your hand to tangle your fingers in his hair. he hums softly, and then you both suddenly hear the vibration from under your asses. spencer shifts around, digging his phone out from where it’s lodged in a random cushion of the sofa.
he groans inwardly, showing you the screen, not having to explain. in big letters, the caller says: bau--derek morgan.
“he usually never calls me on weekends,” spencer frowns, watching the phone vibrate. “you think i should answer?”
“he’s a friend,” you say, tucking a stray strand of hair under his ear. “answer him.”
“okay,” spencer says hesitantly, then swipes the green button on his screen. he clears his throat as the call connects. “you’re on speaker,” he warns, looking at you anxiously and then back to his phone again. morgan’s a wildcard, and spencer would have to hide his face everyday for the next three weeks in front of you if morgan happens to drop something embarrassing about him just out of pocket. spencer isn’t ready.
“not like there’s anyone with you to hear,” morgan scoffs, and didn’t let spencer answer before continuing. “the team’s planning on a bar night tomorrow—“
“the team?” spencer questions, suspicious. morgan sighs loudly.
“garcia and i,” he corrects reluctantly, “are planning for a team bonding night tomorrow. what do you say?”
“no.” spencer says immediately, looking at you and hope you get his unspoken answer. spencer never goes out on weekends, not unless it’s with you. with his highly demanding schedule at the bau, it’s rare that he has any time off at all, and it’s hard to maintain a healthy relationship that way. any time he gets to spend time with you he’d take.
“come on,” morgan says, enthusiastically. “when was the last time you properly went out, huh?”
“last month, when you and garcia planned another of these team bonding bar nights,” spencer says monotonously. he rolls his eyes. “morgan—“
“don’t be rolling your eyes at me now, genius,” morgan warns. you stifle a laugh, and spencer sends you a wounded look. you forget that they’re basically family, like siblings to knows each other to a tee. “listen, have some fun in your life. who knows, maybe we can find you another lila at the bar.” morgan’s tone is suggestive. and now, that got your full, undivided attention.
and spencer, predictably, looks like a deer caught in the headlights, looking at you in horror was you narrow your eyes at his screen. you prod at his leg, prompting him to answer so morgan can elaborate.
lila?
“i don’t think—“ spencer starts, but got immediately cut off.
“don’t lie and say you didn’t like it, lover boy,” morgan whistles and spencer cringes. “now that we’re talking about lila, actually—“ spencer’s mind is screaming, shut up shut up shut up! as morgan proceeds to feed you more information, completely oblivious to his sins. “do you guys still keep in touch? she looked pretty into you. never knew you had it in you til then, man--”
by now spencer’s beet red head to ears to toe and you can feel the heat radiating off of him, but also off of yourself. you’d say you’re a jealous woman. not too jealous but definitely not not jealous.
“morgan,” spencer starts again, voice a little wobbly and embarrassed and morgan laughs.
“seriously though, do you guys still talk? them eyes never lie,” and morgan sounds so casual, so nonchalant while destroying spencer’s life.
it’s not that spencer doesn’t want you to know about lila. he couldn’t careless if lila waltz into his life right now because he knows they would be nothing more than friends—you’re all he’s ever wanted and he would trade you for nothing. it’s just embarrassing, is all, him being exposed like this, and he feels smaller, feels like he’s actually 5’3 with the glare you’re sending him.
“anyway, that don’t matter,” morgan remains completely ignorant and in his own world and still on speaker. oh morgan. “i want to see you at our bar tomorrow. it’s a yes, right? good. i’ll tell garcia you said yes.”
“morgan!” spencer says quickly. “i have a gir—“
morgan hangs up.
spencer dreads looking at you, so he takes his time getting out the app and then clears all of the background apps on his phone. he doesn’t like seeing you mad and he can basically sense it, the fumes blowing out your ears.
“who’s lila?” you say casually and he looks up. he doesn’t mistake your tone for friendliness, your eyes are narrow and suspicious.
“someone on a case a while ago,” spencer responds honestly. because that’s all there was to lila. it’s not like he’s never had his first kiss before her, so she doesn’t even count as his first kiss (she’s his second) and other than that minute-long moment they shared there was nothing else remarkable. she just happens to the only girl the team knows about who’s spencer been involved with and they are encouraging to help him find another ‘lila.’
it’s all very complicated. and humiliating. he should’ve definitely told you the entire backstory beforehand, because it’s not scandalous or weird or anything. it’s innocent and harmless. but now the problem seems to be blown out of proportion.
“just someone?” you press. spencer hesitates. he hates lying, especially when he’s lying to you. his hesitation gives you all the answer you needed.
“we kissed once,” he says, and gawks at you for approval, for forgiveness. “but that was it. i swear.”
something awful bubbles in your stomach. you know spencer’s not lying, and it’s not worth getting upset with him about because it’s all in the past—it’s not like you go talking about your precious conquests to spencer anyway. but you can’t help the envy and jealousy boiling so hotly it makes you dizzy.
spencer feels obliged to fill you in, to patch up the little bump and to get back the sweet atmosphere that was before morgan called. he knew morgan would somehow manage to ruin his life in some kind of way. he knew it before he even accepted his call.
“she was an actress in this case we were working on and she just, i think, really liked me or something and she was in a pool when i came to see her just to ask some questions and she just pulled me—“
his rant got interrupted by you seizing him to a rough kiss, hands coming up to rest behind the nape of his neck and nails unconsciously digging into his skin. spencer remains mostly unresponsive and soft, surprised and don't know how to respond. you keep prying, teeth digging into the soft of his bottom lip and spencer starts nipping at you back, gentle like he always is.
it frustrates you, how hard it is to be frustrated at spencer. you pull away from him and spencer tilts his head curiously, lip shiny and eyes looking at you like he's never seen you before and he just looks so sweet, so innocent and eager, like a precious pup. you roll your eyes, swatting at his chest, annoyance and jealousy and anger evaporating from you like a cloud.
spencer licks his lips and you collapse back into him again, returning to the position you were before morgan so unmindfully interrupted your weekend. breaking bad continues to play on the tv. long limbs wraps around you and spencer presses a kiss in your hair.
"i'm not going tomorrow," he declares.
"you should," you say nonchalantly. you cuddle up closer to him, turning around until the both of your are facing each other, wiggling your way on top. you begin to trace stars on the exposed skin of his shoulder. "and maybe you should bring someone with you. just to act as a guard for future lila's. maybe you can introduce that person too," you flick your hair behind your back and shrugs at spencer's amused smile. "it's just a thought."
"okay," he says quietly, eyes so soft. "okay. who do you suggest i bring?"
"that's for you to figure out, doctor reid," you say flippantly, turning back to the tv. "now shush."
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simpjaes · 12 days
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desecration. (s.j)
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the one where no gods exist when you’re alone with jake sim.
minors dni !! | if you read it, reblog it. 
WORDCOUNT ― 6.4k
PAIRING ― jake sim x afab reader
GENRE ― top/dom jake sim, characters are in their twenties, sub/bratty reader, religious kink/fetish
WARNINGS― mild dub con, desecration of holy a relic, inaccurate descriptions of whatever religion this is– im not doing research for a 5k fic that’s mostly smut, sorry. 
NOTE― if you’ve read this before, it’s because I wrote it for mark lee over on my other blog [ncteez]. we wanted to make it jake, and by we i mean me. i wanted to read this as jake. sorry to religious ppl, don’t read this if you don’t wanna be railed by a hot guy wielding a cross. 
smut tags under cut:: 
smut tags― DUB CON.  use of the words: whore, slut, for the record, the cross is not raw wood and has a smooth finish,  reader is first attempting to seduce the priest through confession lmao, she’s also just a massive whore just like me :), jake is the priest’s son, jerking off, penetration using a wooden cross, unprotected sex, spitting, choking on and/or sucking off a cross, degradation, and name-calling, he’s a godfearing man but also he likes sexual perversions, humiliation, explicitly getting fucked in a church, kind of fingering? 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jake wonders why you’re always making confessions, time and time again, once a week, every single week….eagerly. Like you’re excited for your sin or something. 
Huh.
Then again, once a week his father is expected to listen to confessions from the other churchgoers, even Jake himself is expected to confess. Often he will make up sins that he has committed just to seem as though he has been learning from some sort of mistake. Never would Jake actually tell his father through a confession booth what he has done or is willing to do. He’s an adult, he can confess whatever he wants. 
You, on the other hand, you’re working his father to the bone in terms of forgiveness. 
Jake’s interest piques at the very idea of a young woman, around his age, wanting to confess so much. Did you  hurt someone? Does you hurt yourself? Did you kill someone? Or maybe you’re just caught up in a situation that makes you commit atrocities? He can’t even imagine what one person could be doing to elicit such an eager need of forgiveness so consistently. 
Always the first in the box, always with those inappropriate outfits too. 
 Jake makes his way to the back of the church to complete his duties and, of course, he isn’t surprised to see you enter the confession booth. After all, it is the start of a new week. 
Hushed whispers were echoing through the large space and only now does he realize that you almost always confess when the church is nearly empty. You must not be unaware of his presence at all, unaware that he is the son of the priest that you spill your sins to, and unaware that he can absolutely hear you when he walks closer.
He isn’t entirely sure why he is listening. The walls of this church echo any and every sound, and to be fair, the only reason his interest is piqued is because his father was silent from the moment you had entered the booth. All he heard was you. You didn’t seem to start the confession off in a proper manner either, so yeah, maybe it caught him off guard too.
His ears make attempts to adjust to the words coming from the booth, but your voice is coming out in a tone that he has never used himself when seeking salvation. Minutes pass and he still hasn’t heard his father speak a word back to you, not to encourage you, not to stop you. It’s just you, addressing dreams, visions, wants, and needs. 
Certainly not confession. In fact, you’re actively sinning, attempting to seduce. 
“I woke up shaking, Father. What should I do?” 
Jake notes how quiet his father is still, despite you asking him what to do about the dream. His face sours when you continue to speak, this time in a slightly louder tone. 
“I just can’t help myself sometimes, I–”
It’s not that it’s intentional, really, it isn’t. If anything at all, Jake is incredibly disgusted by your attempts to dirty talk during a confession. Disgusted that you’d do such a thing, and…maybe intrigued by what you may have said that he wasn’t quite able to catch before. He quietly moves to the other side of the booth, the side where you seem to be spouting off all sorts of things, and he raises his head to listen a bit more. 
“You were big, you know? I can’t get thoughts of you out of my head. Have you ever touched a woman, Father?”
Jake leans in further, his body reacting more than his disgust. Unfortunately, his length growing in his pants ceases the moment his father cuts you off. 
“Enough.” His father finally stops you from abusing the booth, from abusing him.
Not another word is spoken and Jake does his best to back away quickly and quietly as you exit the booth. Of course, he’s acting as though he is sweeping a corner when he turns to look at you. Eye contact is made and he can feel an intense rush of heat spread across his cheeks.
Ah, so you’re a whore.
His father stays inside of the booth for a long, drawn out, three or so minutes before exiting and all Jake can think about is if you walked out of the church soaked and warm between your legs. It’s not even that Jake is into sinning. He isn’t. His entire life was built around this church, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a man. He has needs just like you do, apparently.
Never would he get what he needs from a woman as dirty as yourself, though, it doesn’t stop him from thinking about it and how your voice sounds when you were actively trying to fuck his dad.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“You’re disgusting.” Jake narrows his eyes at you when you pass by, spitting the words at you with a grimace. 
“Excuse me?” You ask, stopping in your tracks and looking back at him just as harshly. You didn’t provoke him to speak to you at all, let alone fucking insult you? 
“You think I can’t hear the way you speak to my dad during your little “confessions”?” He takes a step forward as he whispers at you, air quoting the word confession with a roll of his eyes.. “You really think he’s just going to take you up on the offer?” 
Narrowing your own eyes, you step closer to Jake to stop anyone else from hearing his little tantrum. 
“Wanna tell me why he always listens to my “confessions” then?” You question back, mimicking the air quotes and smirking as you walk away from him, not even letting him answer.
Jake watches as you leave, upset that he didn’t get a rise out of you at all and instead was offered a genuine question that sits in his mind. Why does his father allow you to make a confession after confession if all it is, is an attempt to seduce him? You’re even ashamed of it, it seems, and it pisses him off to no end. 
Rushing after you, he is quick to grab at your dress and pull you back.
“Might as well just show up naked with the way you act around here,” He starts with a bite in his tone, dragging you off, down the hall and into a side room that usually remains empty. 
He intends to put a stop to this because he’s heard several more of your confessions by his own will and learns that, apparently, your only sin is being a fucking slut. 
“You have no place here.” He adds as he closes the door behind the two of you. Unintentionally locking you into a space that he’s directly saying you don’t belong in.
“Acting like you don’t think about fucking. Hah. We both know I’m not the only one,” You laugh, walking across the room with a shrug. It’s not the first time you’ve been reprimanded in a church, and it probably won’t be the last. “Besides, your dad probably thinks about me late at night after tucking your grown ass into bed like a child.” 
Jake narrows his eyes even more at you.
“Bet that pisses you off.”
“You’re ridiculous to think he would even want someone like you.” Jake scoffs harshly at you, gut bubbling with annoyance. “To think about sex this often too? I can’t imagine anyone would want to touch such a slut.”
You watch him walk towards you, with his perfectly tucked shirt and his darkened and angry eyes. Being alone with him doesn’t help his argument though because, in all fairness, he’s just as hot, if not hotter than his father. 
“What about you then?” You ask, leaning against one of the shelves in the room, running your hand up your legs, and hiking your dress up a couple of inches. 
“Your dad with his lingering eyes won’t admit to having ever touched a woman. Yet here you are.” You call out the priest’s lie with a snide chuckle before continuing. Fingers massaging your own fleshy thighs, watching the way Jake struggles with his own lingering eyes. “What about you? You ever fuck anyone?”
Jake grimaces, wrinkling his nose as he watches you. 
“What the fuck are you doing?” He questions, stomping over to you and pushing your dress back down below your knees.
“Oh!” You laugh, ticking your tongue at him and tilting your head. “You said a bad word. Aren’t you going to ask for forgiveness?”
He stares at you for a few seconds, being face to face with a woman that seems so desperate for any touch has his heart racing. He’s trying to call you out, not turn you on.
“Can’t you act decent? I barely know you and you’re flaunting yourself at me.” Jake bellows, stumbling back from you and examining the way your body is relaxed.
 You really seem to be enjoying this. 
“You’re the one who pulled me in here. Was it really to argue with me, or were you trying to get to me before Father does?”
Thinking for a moment, Jake realizes he’s the reason this is happening. He could have just let you leave like everyone else, after all, you were attempting to go home. Here he is though, and there you are. 
“He would never.” Jake laughs, mocking your attempts to pretend his father would be interested in you. 
“And again, what about you?” You shoot back instantaneously, watching the way his words get caught in his throat. 
He’s a weak man, truly, because the very thought of what’s under your dress, the very idea that you’re so willing, fogs his brain to the point of almost malfunctioning. It would be so fucking easy if he wanted to. 
No one would even know. 
Before you even know it, you can feel the air in the room change as he storms closer to you and rips your dress upwards to your waist. Instantly, he’s shoving his hand straight between your legs. 
A small yelp leaves your throat followed by a laugh. Perfect. 
“I knew it.” You giggle,  bumping your head a bit against the shelf at the force of his movement. You can feel the way his palm cups your core and presses in harshly through his silent breaths. “I fucking knew you were dirty.”
“Stop,” Jake demands, bringing his other hand to cover your mouth. “Stop talking.” He continues, already pulling his hand from your core and second-guessing himself. 
“If you want it so bad, I’m going to need you to shut the fuck up.” 
You nod with a smile against his palm, breathing in when he pulls it back and trusts your ability to stay quiet. He’s staring directly into your eyes as if he’s threatening you. As if he will stop if you make a single peep. A promise that he will probably get you banned from the church if anyone were to find out what’s happening in this room right now.  At his darkened gaze, you poke your tongue out, licking his palm and watching him pull back in aroused shock at how unashamed you are regarding your arousal. But, you do stay true to your work and remain quiet once his eyes trail down. 
He looks at you as if you’re some sort of monstrous entity, and for him at this moment, you probably are. But even with that, you see what’s growing in his pants before he lowers himself onto the floor. Positioning his face right in front of your clothed pussy. 
What a dirty, dirty boy.
Jake can see the wet stain of your panties and all he can do is roll his eyes. 
“You’re insane.” He laughs, eyes darting up to your face, looking at you like he wants to shame you. “Getting so messy in such a place, all for men who don’t fucking want you?” 
You nod, wiggling your hips at him in an attempt to entice his lips to attach there. But he doesn’t. He just stands right back up to his feet and takes a step backwards. 
“I bet if I left you here, you’d chase after me.” He mocks. “I bet you think I’m gonna stick it in you, don’t you?”
Proudly, you smile with a nod. Of course he's going to stick it in. You can see how hard he’s gotten. Sin or not, you know when a man wants to fuck you. Jake won’t be able to resist sooner or later, son of the priest or not. 
“Wow,” He laughs quietly, shaking his head at you as he reaches behind a podium and pulls out a large, lacquered wooden cross. “You really are stupid.”
Great, you think as your face falls. He’s definitely about to start preaching to you with that stupid fucking cross. Maybe he will even attempt to perform an exorcism to expel the horny demons out of you.
“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes, standing yourself up straight from against the shelf and patting your dress back down into position. “Don’t start this shit.” You’re already preparing to walk out without looking twice at him, but he laughs right back at you.
“You think you know everything.” He chuckles, walking towards the door and locking it. He stands in front of it now, crossing his arms and staring at you. 
“Don’t I?” You ask, eyeing the way he presents himself to you right now. 
“Did I not just imply that I wouldn’t use my cock on you?” He questions, twitching in his pants at the way you stand before him, much smaller in energy now. 
He can tell you’re still trying to act brave, and it delights him to see the realization spread across that pretty, silent mouth. 
Oh. Oh. 
“You’re going to–?” You swallow hard, realizing that of all the sins you could commit, the implication of being penetrated with a cross, solely so this man doesn’t have to fuck a whore isn’t one you ever thought of. 
This room doesn’t even feel like part of a church now as he holds the cross with more reason than praying. 
“Yeah,” He assures you. “I am.” Stepping forward toward you and looming down at your face. “Now get on the desk.” 
You don’t know why, but your body acts on instinct for him. Immediately walking to the desk and propping yourself onto it. 
“Take off your clothes.” He demands again, watching you intently as he stays in place, rubbing the long end of the cross much like he’d like to do for himself right now. 
God, watching such a stubborn woman do everything he says is…well, it’s new for him and it ignites a new type of arousal within him. 
And you watch him back as you begin to slip your dress from your shoulders, lifting your ass so that you can push it down and onto the floor. 
“Oh, now you wanna act shy?” He mocks, walking towards you as you attempt to tug at your panties. “And keep those on. No one wants to see that.”
Goddamn, you don’t even have the decency to wear a bra to service? Lucky for him though, your breasts are enough to drive him past the point of return. There’s no thought, fear, or prayer in his head right now as you reveal yourself to him. Going as far as trying to flash your pussy? Oh, he could laugh. 
You stay quiet, doing as you’re told and watching the way he examines you. He must feel so in control right now and you’re happy to let him, but you can see him falling apart behind his eyes. 
His cock is incredibly obvious beneath his nice dress pants, but you wouldn’t dare reach out to touch him, not yet at least. You’ll let him have his fun, despite the slight nervousness within you regarding that cross.
“Open your mouth.” He says, dragging the cross against your nipples and onto your chin. “Suck it.”
You almost shake your head at him. Such a hard wood sliding down your throat would surely hurt. It’ll bruise, it’ll fucking suffocate you.
Jake doesn’t seem to care about any of that though, because all he does in response to your widened and fear-stricken eyes is press the wood against your lips with a face of concentration. 
You purse your lips, muffling a displeased grunt at his acts.
“You scared?” He smiles first, pulling the cross away and now tracing his fingers along your lips before prying them inside and hooking your mouth open. “Come on, don’t act like you don’t know how to suck.”
You relent this time, feeling the cold and smooth tip of the cross enter past your lips when he resumes his previous assault. It’s not that you are against doing it, you just…haven’t done it before.
 You’re not exactly sure of how to respect a holy relic such as this one when you’re expected to choke on it. 
“That’s it.” Jake coos, pressing the cross further into your mouth. “Open up real wide.” 
You close your eyes at his voice, licking the smoothed object with an intensity you didn’t know you had. After all, it’s been so long since you’ve been intimate with a person, hence the constant wet dreams about your priest. This is somehow, incredibly hot to you. To have his son fucking your mouth, regardless of what object he’s using to do it. 
Still, it does hurt. The intricate edges of the cross bruises each time it hits the clenching walls of your throat and mouth, but Jake seems to like the sound of you choking and sobbing around it. After all, he just continues to press the cross further and further in. Probably relishing in the way you try to swallow around it and relax your throat. 
His eyes are so focused, seeing how much of it you can take and only imagining how good it would feel if it were his cock choking you right now. Despite your sputtering and crying eyes, you’re taking it so well. 
Yeah, you’ve definitely done this before. Probably swallowed up some guy’s cum and begged for more despite still having a cock wedged in your throat. How lucky for them to have someone so desperate to be gagged. 
“You’re filthy for doing this, you know that?” He laughs at your pain and how you don’t try to pull at his pushing hand, tipping the cross just a bit so that its hardened wood hits your throat in a way that hurts a bit too much.
You cough around it, only now pushing his hand back in protest. The tears are pouring from your eyes when the cross slides out of your mouth, and all you can do is blink up at him as you try to regain your breath. 
Half expecting him to immediately hold your head in place just to shove the cross back in, Jake pulls back instead, tilting his head down to look at your panties. 
Your legs instinctively cross to hide your arousal, but he prys your legs open regardless, forcing you to act as the whore you so wanted to be. For his father, for him, for anyone who would be willing, honestly. 
You’ve gotten wetter. 
“You’re so gross, I can’t believe you get off to this–” He laughs, feeling his cock begin to fucking ache. “You can take more, then.” 
No, no. You don’t want to keep sucking it, but your mouth opens anyway. Too turned on by the idea of seeing Jake’s reaction to watching you be so dirty, so blasphemous. 
The way he moans when you open your mouth willingly this time is…well, he looks fucking good. He sounds even better. 
You take it into your mouth without so much as a second thought this time, allowing him to slide the cross back and forth against your tongue and into your throat. You willingly swallow around the harsh edges, tears falling all the while, of course.  
You’re gagging so softly around it, he’s almost jealous over how you wanted his dad before you wanted him. Surely no one would do this for you, right? His father would never be with such a horny, needy, and dirty woman. 
Jake though….shamefully, is very into it. 
Into you, rather.
When he pulls it out this time, your saliva coats the cross in a way that nearly breaks his brain. Intensely, he stares at your lips, slack and waiting for him to continue his abuse. God, he’s so jealous. To think you would do this with someone else? With anyone? Anything? 
It turns him on beyond belief, but feeling jealous of the fucking cross isn’t exactly something Jake wants to admit. His father? Sure, whatever. But a relic he’s prayed to his whole life? Growing resentful of it just because you take it down your pretty and bruised throat? 
No. 
Jake shifts now, unable to satiate the arousal within him without grabbing your hand and forcing you to grope his hidden cock. So hard, so fucking hard, he nearly lets out his own sob at the euphoric touch when he actually does it. 
You’re a bit shocked that he’s letting you touch him, but you take the opportunity and run with it. You press your palm against him without any amount of shame, and all you can do is watch as he hangs his head, the saliva coated cross still gripped in his other hand. 
“Bet you wanted to fuck my mouth.” You croak out, your voice sounding just as raw at your throat. “Bet you wanted me to take all of it and beg for your cum.” 
His head shoots up in response to that as he grabs your face harshly, bucking against your hand at the same time. “Stop talking.” He seethes, releasing your face and inserting his fingers into your mouth instead. “Stick your tongue out.”
You do as he says, feeling his heavy cock twitching against your palm with each press. 
Jake seems like an expert at this, you aren’t sure, but when he presses your tongue down with his fingers to open your throat up, he spits into your mouth so easily that you have no choice but to swallow it.
Well, okay. He could probably get away with doing that a few more times if he wanted to.
You moan when you swallow, lending him a dopey smile that shocks him. You weren’t supposed to like that in his eyes, but when you grab his cock in response rather than just palm at it, he can’t help but moan back at you. 
His fingers continue to hold your tongue down as you jerk him off over his pants, and his hips stutter all the while until he loses all composure. Within a second, he stalks even closer, slamming both hands against the desk on either side of you and leaning forward to pin you there.
And then he grinds forward against your weak hand, pinned between him and the edge of the desk. 
Yet still, he’s gripping that fucking cross as he pins you here.
“You want me to fuck you so bad, I can see it.” He croaks, not even allowing you to offer him a nod before he’s got his lips attached to yours and he’s licking into your mouth. It feels impossibly better than that cross pressing against the back of your throat but you swallow his kiss just as easily. 
His hips continue to grind as he licks into your mouth like a man who doesn’t know how to kiss at all. So rough and messy with it, groaning more and more before he’s nearly a panting mess before you. He pulls back from the kiss only for a moment to stare at you, eye contact more fierce than it was before. 
“I think you’re the one who wants to fuck me.” You manage to slip out before he can silence you again, and his eyes narrow instantly. 
More than anything, that’s what he wants to do to you. He wants to shut you up in as many ways possible right now, and he definitely wants fucking you to be one of those ways. But he can’t, and he won't. 
“Hah–you’d love that.” He laughs, reaching his empty hand between the two of you to press his pants down enough to let his cock spring free. 
You can’t even get a good look at it, because he’s instantly grabbing himself and fucking his fist before looking back up at you. 
“Go on, look.” He says, leaning a bit so that you can watch him jerk off in full view now. “Bet you’d beg for it if I told you to.”
“Please?” You instantly let out, eyes staring at the angry head of his cock leaking and pulsing.
“I didn’t say to actually beg–” He groans, halting his hand and instead, thrusting his hips into the tightly formed hole he’s created. “I’m not going to fuck you.” He laughs again, now pulling the cross back and into your view with a wicked smirk. 
Of course. The cross. Well, at least you’re going to be fucked with something right?
 You eye the piece of wood and then go back to watching him. You’re not sure what it is about this situation but it feels like your body is on fire. Maybe it’s because hell is right beneath you, just a floorboard away from what the two of you have gotten yourselves into behind this locked door.
“Oh?” He halts his hips and licks his lips. “You actually want me to fuck you with this?”
You nod frantically, spreading your legs in front of him and showing off how large the spot on your panties has grown since he last inspected it. You watch as his eyes practically burn a hole through your pussy.
Only then does he release his own cock and look back into your eyes. More seriously this time when reality and guilt clicks in his head. 
“You are aware of what we are about to do, right?” His confidence falters blatantly as he glances at the cross. “Like, if you ever tell my dad about this, I will be disowned.” 
“You think I’d snitch on you?” You roll your eyes, body nearly shaking to get fucked. God, why does he have to stop now?
“Well, since you’re so inclined to confess every fucking day–”
“Jake, you literally just fucked my throat with it.” You deadpan, hooking your legs around him to pull him close enough to feel his cock hit your wet panties. “You’re the dirtiest one here, I’m not going to give that up just to see you get disowned.” 
He laughs at you for that. Because yeah, maybe he is. Maybe he’s the one who shouldn’t be in church, and maybe he’s the one who should have been confessing this whole time. Never in his life has he ever done this, or so much as imagined doing it, it’s so perverse. So, wrong. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what’s attractive about it. 
For some reason, his cock jumps when you say you’re not giving him up because he’s dirty. 
“And–” You soften your voice, trying to lure him. “You don’t have to use the cross, you know.” 
“No.” He barks out, pulling his hips back and pressing the cross against you instead. “Now, keep your legs open.” 
He gets right back into it without a second thought. He doesn’t care what he’s doing or what the repercussions of doing this will be. It’s not like he wasn’t going to hell before any of this, not based on the fantasies he’s had anyway.
Jake hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down your legs harshly, to the point that they’re stretching so far that it feels like they could cut through your skin. He backs away for a moment upon seeing you grimace at that, allowing you to slip them down your legs before positioning himself back between them.
“I’m dirty?” He says, looking at your pussy and the way it clenches around absolutely nothing. He sees the slick seeping out of you already, and it’s not only pathetic but so fucking desperate of you. “Fucking look at that.”
You smile at it, knowing that he’s degrading you but absolutely loving the view if his focused eyes are anything to go by.
Before the cross, he experimentally traces his fingers along your folds until he gets to your hole, and without hesitation, he slips one of them in. The grip of your walls alone could probably send him over the edge if he were to make a last-minute change and shove his cock into you, but he holds back. Instead, he traces the cross against you in the same way he did with his fingers, slowly inserting it alongside his digit. 
Pulling back, Jake watches your face as the cross opens you up, probably dragging against your walls uncomfortably as a reminder of the ultimate sin you’re committing with him right now. 
When your face doesn’t contort into that of pain, he pulls his finger out of you and places his hand back on his cock. Still staring at your face, he fucks the cross in and out of you. Relishing in the sound of how wet you are for this, and for him to give it to you.
 He does this until, finally, you moan.
Upon that little whimper of a moan, Jake is sent into a different headspace. One that quickens his pace with the object inside of you, one that tightens the grip on himself. 
Now, oh now, he’s playing for fun. He presses it in and then pulls it all the way out just to see your pussy beg for more. Holding back a moan over how fucking hot it is to see, he opts to coo out at you.
“Bet it would feel so good.” He breathes, trying to ignore the shiver that shoots through his body at the way you yearn for it. “Could shove my cock right in, you’d just take it, wouldn’t you?” 
Before you can answer, he’s thrusting the relic right back into you. In, out, in, out. Deeper, harder, fucking faster. And he offers the same for himself, tightening his fist, nearly abusing his own cock at the sight of your swollen hole swallow up the wood. Really, he makes a point to fuck himself just to imagine it’s you that’s squeezing him.  
If he thinks hard enough, it really is almost like he’s the one fucking you. 
He keeps this up for a few minutes, up until your legs are shaking around him and you begin to reach out with your hands. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s incredibly fucking horny right now, he’d probably be rushing for the altar to save you from whatever demon is possessing you.
 But, he knows that this is no demon, this is all his own doing. He’s loving it. Every single bit of this situation is being burned into his memory, and when your legs shake, it only urges him to fuck the object into you harder.
You whimper out strings of nonsense, almost begging for a release from this grasp he is holding over you both physically and mentally, but he doesn’t relent. Your pathetic cunt is being pounded by an object that should have you crying in fear, but instead, you’re so close to release you can only beg for more, more, fucking more. 
And god, he keeps giving it to you.
In an attempt to open your eyes, you feel dizzy with lust. Your hips buck up against the object with intent, and you can’t stop watching him. 
“Goddamn.” Jake stutters a sin, watching you fuck yourself against the holy relic. Thankful to rest his arm and be able to just…watch.
And oh, he’s watching and intensely imagining that it’s you on him. He can’t stop thinking about how fucking warm you must be, how tight, how sinfully delicious your pussy must be for you to be acting like this. And that thought is what forces him to lose it.
You were so focused, on the verge of your orgasm when you feel him practically tear the cross out of you, dropping it to the floor before – oh fuck.
You feel him. Something bigger, something thicker ramming into you. He’s prying you open more than he did previously, already pumping in and out at a frantic speed. Instantly, you cling onto him with a bruising grip, listening to his shameless moans as he realizes the lack of control he has over his own body or thoughts. 
Jake practically falls over you in euphoria as you cling, forcing you to fall back against the desk as he relentlessly plunges his hips. His breath is heavy against your neck as he loses himself, and all you can do is thank the same god you just disrespected for this cock that’s abusing your hole in all of the right ways.
“I can’t–” He groans out against your ear, his hips not stopping their relentless assault. “You’re so fucking dirty.” He insults, pushing you up the desk with each thrust. “So good.”
You can barely make a sound from the force behind his hips, only small yelps leaving your throat each time he slams in. And fuck, you want nothing more than to rub your clit right now. You could cum all over him, you could really make him feel good. 
And as if your prayers are answered, Jake apparently knows exactly how to pleasure a woman. Hm, curious. He knows how to do it fucking well too, as you feel his fingers rub against the swollen nub in the exact same way you would right now. Painful, intense.
The fact that he wants you to cum is delicious.
Your orgasm hits you almost instantly, pussy sucking in him each time he goes to thrust, and the sounds coming from your throat could be considered demonic by some, but he swallows them up with ease when he notes that you’re cumming all over him. 
Jake licks into your mouth, soothing you with dirty words when he pulls back to breathe. 
“You should see yourself–” He pants out, sticking his tongue out to lick against your lip. “Getting me all messy too?” He says again through a moan. “You’re beautiful.” He adds like a period at the end of a sentence. 
That alone makes you feel…different. In fact, it prolongs your orgasm far past sensitivity when he continues to thrust into you. You can’t tell if he said that because he’s close, or if it’s because he meant it. 
Quite frankly, you could give less of a fuck if he meant it. 
Jake stutters his hips when you lift your head just slightly, gripping his hair and skewing his head to the side so that you can whisper into his ear. 
“Want me to beg for your cum?” You whisper with a shaking voice. “You’d love that too, wouldn’t you? I know I would.”
His eyes squeeze shut as he aggressively turns his head and, once again, pries your mouth open with his tongue. A bruising kiss follows as he fucks his last few thrusts into you, doing just as you implied he should.
He pumps his cum into you relentlessly, thankful that it’s not all over his pants and entirely milked into that sinful cunt of yours. Thankful that you also got off around him instead of that forgotten cross on the floor. 
He wants nothing more than to remind you time and time again who got to you first. It was him, not his father. 
You smile at him when he pulls back out of breath, examining his pants before stuffing his sensitive cock back into them and reaching down for the cross.
“If you ever fucking tell my dad about this–” He seethes out of breath, trying to pretend that he can regain composure so soon after fucking you the way he just did. Still, he narrows his eyes at you much as he had done before. 
“Go on.” You say, voice shaking as you try to grasp back onto reality from whatever world his cock had sent you into. 
Jake is at a loss for words, because, what could he possibly do about it if you were to tell? He looks at you, still spread out against the desk, dress crumpled, his cum seeping out of you in a messy show of how much of an absolute whore he forced you to be.
“Just, don’t tell him.” He finally says, averting his eyes from you and looking at the cross in his hand. 
“Do you feel bad already?” You ask out, finally lifting to get off of the desk.
“Don’t you?” 
You shake your head, struggling to stand as the seething pain of having a wooden cross stuck into you shoots through your body. “Not really.” You try to laugh, but you wince instead.
“Yeah, I figured you’d probably be hurting after all of that.” He finally says in a somewhat apologetic tone, walking up to you with a soothing hand.
You’re a little shocked by his kindness. 
“Yeah, a little.” You laugh it off though because, at the moment, it felt good. You wouldn’t have wanted it any other way despite how blasphemous the act was.  
“Oh.” Jake seems sorrowful in his tone, but his gaze doesn't leave you. “I- um, I don’t know how to make it like, not hurt?” He scratches the back of his head.
In your attempt to put your dress back on, you do note that the pain inside of you isn’t unfamiliar. You’d been fucked hard before, but that was a long time ago. You missed this feeling, realizing that it was exactly what you think you needed. 
“It’ll pass.” You assure him, taking a deep breath and trying to stumble your way to the door. “I guess I’ll see you later, then?” 
Jake dips his head with a small nod, feeling guilty for what he’s done. Not because of the cross, not because of the sin, but because he’s unsure of how to pretend like he wouldn’t want to do it again.
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horrorartsworld · 1 month
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Clingy ass Valentino…HEAR ME OUT PEOPLE!PUT THE PITCHFORKS AWAY!
He just adores his little pornstar so much,he buys her whatever she wants.her dressing room might be more expensive than an art museum
New nails? Done.Wanna get your hair done? He’s already given them his card
She just gets so used to being spoiled that she’ll start to get bratty when he won’t get something,and then that leads to a brat being out in her place…(IF YOU KNOW WHERE IM GOING)
I LIVE FOR THESE KIND OF ASKS!! EATING THIS SHIT UP FOR BREAKFAST HONEY 🤭🤭 Also can you tell I have fun writing for Valentino…it’s DISGUSTING
⁺˚⋆。°✩₊ ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊ ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊ ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊ ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊ ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊ ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊ ⁺
spoiled rotten
clingy valentino/spoiled pornstar f!reader
warnings: smut obviously, HEAVY brat taming, oral (m receiving), rough dom!valentino, brat!reader, unprotected p in v, spanking, grinding, face fucking, orgasm denial, creampie, pet names, daddy kink, lots of dirty talk cause when doesn’t val talk dirty lol, soft valentino??? at the end
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A low strum of a knock is heard against the door of your dressing room where Valentino now stood with it all the way open. “Doll?” His voice following shortly after, sounding a bit tired though it still had the alluring presence that was always intoxicating.
Huffing, you see his tall stature from the reflection of your large vanity mirror, ducking his head as he came through the doorway not bothering to wait for some kind of gesture from you to come in.
Red eyes immediately catching the new things you’ve bought probably in the last week or days even.
Various articles of clothing with high price tags still on them strung and obviously thrown onto a big luxurious pink sofa that sat on one end of the room, an assortment of shoes adorning the other with plentiful shelving space to display most of them, and lets not forget the jewels that you had laid out like magazines on your coffee table that were so sparkly they hurt when he glimpsed at them.
All of it was making Val very overwhelmed and most importantly uneasy. It was like you were gonna run him dry of all his hard earned porn money, seeing you spend it all so carelessly only to buy pointless things that you think is cutesy or fun in the moment, but that feeling would always subside when the girl he adorned more then himself would give him the time of day….and of course you knew this all too well once you became spoiled.
Taking advantage of it when you could to get the things you want, wearing tight little mini skirts that would show your panties when you bent over or putting on your big doe eyes when he was being even a bit hesitant with your request. It was always the best too when you’d catch him in a big meeting, your delicate figure sauntering into his office letting his colleagues gawk at you in the new outfit you’d bought that showed just about every inch of your assets, causing Valentino to almost loose his shit seeing them look at you and he then has to deal with you quickly, shooing you off with his card in your hands to get whatever your little heart desires.
Which is the exact reason why your hair and nails were always done at almost every shoot, making some of the other girls quite jealous of you seeing the princess treatment you got from Val that they very much lacked, but who were you to care? You the porn studios sweet little prized possession and nobody could change that.
“What do you want?” You hiss annoyed while applying mascara to your long lashes, taking your gaze away from the tall moth man as he approached you, large hands resting on your shoulders, giving a small kiss to the top of your head.
“I just wanted to check in before your shoot..make sure everything’s okay with my favorite little estrella,” He rests his chin on the top of your head, his chest rumbling with a low purr as he spoke watching you so prettily apply your makeup in the mirror. “Well the shoot is just gonna have to wait tonight, i’m going to a party at the club,” You say nonchalantly as if nothing could persuade you not to go.
Val raises an invisible eyebrow at you. “Party? Oh no baby you gotta be here, the men banking on this is gonna pay us millions to distribute it..” He pauses for a moment standing up straight to take out his box of cigarettes before continuing, “…besides we both know your closet would struggle if you missed out on this kind of opportunity..”
Gawking at him in the reflection you couldn’t believe the insult he just threw at you, making you act dramatically by throwing your chair back letting it clatter to the floor as you turned to face him. “Listen here Valentino..This industry would be nothing without me and this cunt between my legs, now if i want to go to a party i’m going to go to that fucking party! Whether some perverted pricks like it or not, they can reschedule for all i give a fuck!!” You spat then stomping away from him till you were on the other side of the room where you flipped through different pairs of bottoms on a rack, not believing how unfair he was being towards you when you’ve worked so hard to get where you’re at. The scent of his now lit cigarette clouding the air made you feel like you couldn’t breathe, a low tsk is heard from behind you till that feeling of your breath slipping from your airways got more prominent until you were tugged back making you fall onto your ass.
“Don’t forget who owns you..” He snarled, the coolness of the metal collar that had suddenly appeared around your neck reminded you of the soul contract he had over you, the feeling leaving a bad taste in your mouth, along with the vice grip he had on the end of the chain that he just pulled to make you fall.
“Matter of fact turn around for me..”
“Valentino..i-i didn’t mean-“ You try to apologize, but you were cut off by another tug on the chain, this time more harder than the last making you choke.
“I said turn around now.”
You quickly turn around, resting on the backs of your heels on your knees, looking up at the moth man with a gaze akin to that of a deer all while he towered over you. To your dismay your look of innocence only turned him on more, letting go of the chain that held you till it dissipates in mid air and the coolness of the collar is gone, wasting no time as he undos the large heart buckle sat at his midsection and pulls down his white dress pants till they’re pooling at his ankles. He was already so hard that when his cock sprang free your eyes immediately met his leaky tip that was a deep purple from its usual color, he then takes it in one of his hands and taps it against your lips. The pre smearing into your freshly applied lipstick.
“Open princess..” Val cooed through gritted teeth, the end of his cigarette wiggling in his mouth while he spoke.
You start shivering when you feel his claws racking against your scalp, too caught up in what was happening Valentino presses the back of your head down on his cock forcing the tip to push past your lips, taking him in your mouth fully without a moment to adjust and it immediately hits the back of your throat earning a soft gag from you and a low chuckle from Val. Once you catch your bearings from the unexpected sensation, you began to bob your head like the pornstar you were, sucking and licking like you were starved.
“Mmm..that’s my good girl..daddy’s good girl huh…” He hums out a gruff moan, a hand snaking its way down to caress your cheek that was full. Your eyes flutter up at him catching him in such a sinfully good angle that made you whine against his cock, cigarette barley hanging from his lips, the buttons on his shirt opened showing off his rather lean built body, muscles flexing and the white fur around his neck fluffing up when you used you flicked your tongue against a vein in a certain way getting him closer to his already building orgasm. “Taking it so good aren’t you baby? It's okay, hhpmh..you don't gotta talk with your mouth full, I know you fucking love worshipping daddy’s cock..”
The tears start pouring down your face, ruining your mascara in the process as his words along with the filthy sounds of you sucking him off made your cunt throb with an unbearable need. You scoot closer in attempt to grind against his leg, whimpering when the heat from his body, combined with the friction from his leg and the fabric of your panties rubbed deliciously against your sensitive clit.
"M gonna cum doll..Swallow for me yeah? Every last drop, do you fucking hear me?” Valentino growled suddenly his frustrations over taking him, putting out his cigarette(finally) as he fisted your hair proceeding to take control completely, bucking his hips relentlessly into your mouth as he face fucked you. Drool leaking down your chin as you tried to continue your grinding against his leg trying to match his speed until he came down your throat. Pulling you off his dick with a little pop to let you swallow, Valentino lightly tapping your chin, letting red smoke spill from his mouth as he leaned down to your level. "Atta girl…lemme see."
Seeing that you obediently swallowed his seed, he roughly yanked you from your position on his leg, eyes disapprovingly glaring down at you from behind his sunglasses. “You think you can get off on my leg without permission?” He scolds like an owner to its pet. “If you’re gonna cum cariño, it’s gonna be with you squirming on my dick.”
“B-but..” You sniffle, only to be silenced by Valentino with just a finger signaling you to. He then throws you on the couch not caring about the high end clothes still on it, crawling onto of you shortly after.
“Shhh not another word,” He shushes you, leaving kisses down your neck feverishly, while his hands worked at pulling down your skirt and panties in one quick motion. Slamming into you before you could even mutter out a protest like the brat you’ve grown to be. One of his hands reaching above you to hold onto the arm of the couch as he fucked into you with a dizzying rhythm, pounding relentlessly into your cunt just like he did to your mouth. “Fuck princessa, I should just let them record us…Millions of sinners seeing you get your brains fucked out by the man who really owns you…owns this pussy..”
“Y-you own this pussy daddy…” You babble out, whimpering when he hit that particular spot that drove you crazy to the point your clit swelled.
A primal instinct ignited in Val when he heard you say that, making his thrusts stutter for a minute until he started fucking you like an animal once more. “Say that again baby..”
You were too focused on the pleasure that you didn’t hear him, earning a good smack to the side of your ass snapping you out of it with a pitiful whine.
“Tell me who owns this pussy..” He husked in your ear for another time.
“Mm daddy does..” Valentino could tell just by your voice and the way your cunt was sucking him in that you were getting close, and it only excited the man more for what he deviously had planned. Pulling you closer to your orgasm by adding hand to rub circles at your soaked clit. “Yeah he fucking does..”
You let out a meek moan at his prideful exclamation and the overwhelming feeling of pleasure that was coursing through you. You should’ve known better that this would’ve been the outcome of your little tantrum from earlier, but secretly you loved the punishment. Being used like a fuck doll for Valentino to use. Your mind going dumb on the thought causing your cunt to clench with your needed climax, a pout forming on your messy lips.
“G-gonna cum, please Val!” You practically begged feeling your tears come up again.
"Not until l've had mine, princessa." He huffed breathlessly, burying himself deep inside you with one finally thrust, wings fanning out and fluttering while he spilt his cum all inside you.
The feeling of being filled made you desperately want your own climax so much more, but he quickly pulled out of you, killing that mood within an instant, leaving your legs shaking and your lower stomach aching for release.
"I changed my mind," Valentino said with a smirk, but there was a hint of admiration dotting his red eyes. "I think you don't get to cum today. Not even at work i’m rescheduling the shoot for another day since you decided to show your ass.”
He began to clean himself up, picking up his pants from the other side of the room and slipping them back on. You wanted to pout again, especially because he was basically back to being so unfair, but you knew better to not otherwise that would result in another denial of your orgasm. Once he was back to his normal overly sensual self, he turned to you, red eyes having a more stone cold look in them with his lip curled seeing you still shaking on the couch. You had been rid of your panties and mini skirt, leaving you just in a skimpy little top that was jostled around by Val with one of your tits hanging out of it. Makeup smudged and battered, along with the consistent drip of Vals juices and your arousal from your used hole falling onto a unworn dress that was nestled under your bum.
"Now what do you remember from today?" He asked one set of hands on his hips as the others were crossed over his chest.
The way Val stood over you so authoritatively made your core throb once more, but you tried to push it to the side as you gathered what ever thoughts you had of the lesson he seemed to try to teach you just now.
"I need to remember my place and not talk back," You mumbled quietly.
"And?" Valentino added quizzically raising his chin to tell you to proceed.
"To listen to you." A smile pulling up at the corner of your lip as you knew he was fucking with you now.
"Good girl…Also, you might want to get that dry cleaned cariño," He gestured to the dress underneath you making you look frantically till you saw it.
“Oh whatever!” You say rolling your eyes playfully giggling at him.
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