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sutorus · 7 months

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THE GRUDGE PROFESSOR!GETO for KINKTOBER 2023!

DESCRIPTION: everybody loves professor geto, and judging by the thousands of viewers you get on every live, a lot of people love you, too. but you and professor geto hate each other. you’ve had enough of his humiliation rituals, and decide to do something about it.

PAIRING: mean professor!geto x student!reader

WC: 5.3k i am an unstoppable beast

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, teacher/student dynamic! adult age gap! (reader is in college, unspecified age), sw/camgirl!reader (don’t like don’t read! no shaming 😤), strong language, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel, darling), reader calling geto "sir", unprotected relations, creampie, afab reader and terms

A/N: this switches between povs a lot so i hope that’s okay or at least readable lol! also i set out to write him so much meaner but he’s just kind of a simp... enjoy?

reblogs are very much appreciated i'll uwu for u :pleading eyes emoji:

it is said that those who cannot do, teach.

geto suguru could have done many things. he had the brains, the muscles, the features, the traits. the ambition to succeed in any field he desired. satoru says in a world ruled by the strong there is no place for humility.

but humility is not why suguru became a teacher. neither is ineptitude. no, he’d become a teacher because it was the right thing to do.

to use his gifts to help shape new generations, help unlock potentials long dorment and buried deep under years of a lackluster schooling system. geto suguru prided himself, above all, in being a righteous man.

but japan’s most upstanding citizen for 28 years in a row held a shameful secret. a secret in the shape of you.

he saw the darkest sides of himself on your face (eyebrows scrunched, eyes shut tightly, jaw slack as you—), your voice (higher in pitch with desperate moans that sound almost scared on the brink of your—), your body (taut and plump in all the right places, glistening with sweat, bouncing up and down on a—).

when you walked into his classroom that fateful day, the world tilted on its axis. his first thought was, fuck, then, it can’t be, then, most embarrassing of all, i’ll finally find out what she smells like.

(he did, when you went up to his desk to hand over your test. a whiff of vanilla, argon oil shampoo. too sweet, too youthful. and he’d watched you leave, tennis skirt flowing like a water lily, dick already chubby in his pants.)

it was slowly starting to consume him.

the first time you spoke in class, he knew he hadn’t been mistaken. it was really you. the cute, slutty girl he’d been milking his cock to for the better part of a year.

god, when you finally said his name. you would never in your wildest dreams think that he’d been imagining those words coming out of your mouth, of him coming out of your mouth, dripping out of you, all over you—

he was losing it. this was not like him. this was never supposed to happen, and he has to put an end to it.

everybody knew of geto suguru, the prodigy professor. already getting a phd despite not even being 30, handling the administrative slack for the department while managing office hours every day of the week, promoting student events, helping organize spirit weeks and charity drives.

everything he did, he did for others. those not as capable as him — which was most people. in other words, it was really, really hard to hate him.

but you damn well managed to.

and to think you were excited to take his class. everybody told you to run, not walk, to sign up for his twentieth-century Japanese philosophy chair.

“oh, professor geto is just the best,” they’d said. “he makes it sound so interesting and engaging, he gives the most life changing assignments, he really cares about us.”

bullshit.

the first time you stepped into that classroom, suspiciously full for a philosophy class, you felt a shift in the air almost immediately.

and sure enough, professor geto suguru was eyeing you down like he’d just seen a ghost. it made you self conscious, like he’d taken one look at you and decided right then and there you were too dumb for the class.

it made your blood boil. sure, you stood out a little bit from the actual philosophy majors, but that doesn’t mean he gets to judge you. he literally doesn’t know you!

but fine, first impressions are tricky like that. for all you knew, you could’ve been misjudging him right there.

however, with each passing day, you grew more and more assured in your suspicions.

you knew the man had it out for you, always calling on you to answer when he knew you weren’t paying attention, never grading your papers above a B even though you did everything right, somehow managing to fucking avoid you during his excessive office hours.

his looks were almost the most infuriating part of it.

his beautiful face constantly set in that nonchalant look, his big veiny hands always gesticulating, his huge fucking arms straining the fabric of those dress shirts, his ear gauges and man bun contrasting the prim and proper image the rest of him conveyed.

under different circumstances, he’d make your mouth water. under different circumstances, you’d imagine him going down on you all night long, singing praise about how good you taste and how tight you are.

but in this timeline, you absolutely loathed him. and he loathed you too. why? you didn’t know.

but you knew for a fact that it was personal.

��i don’t care,” megumi said around a mouthful of meatball, cutting your monologue short. “i’m not doing it.”

you sigh, melting into your chair. “megumi. please. i am literally begging you, i just need some hard evidence so i can go report his ass.”

he eyes you curiously. “report him for what?”

“i don’t know. bullying? sexism? whatever the hell his problem is,” you pick at your food, huffing in annoyance.

“you’re overthinking it,” megumi replies, dismissively.

“okay, how about this,” you lean forward, putting an elbow on the table. “if you write the assignment for me, i’ll get your dog that expensive halloween costume you’ve been wanting.”

megumi lifts an eyebrow.

“you need to get one for each,” he says simply.

you grin. “deal.”

suguru really does give it his all to make your life with him a living hell. pulls out all the stops, years of friendship with gojo satoru paying off as he comes up with ploy after ploy to get you to drop his class.

it feels bad, being mean to you. but for the hidden, twisted parts of him, it feels delicious.

watching you huff and puff, all hot and bothered when he corrects your answers on the spot. watching you nibble on your pen at the increasingly difficult exams he hands out. letting himself wonder if you missed a stream this week because you were too busy cramming for a make up test.

he knows he’s pushing you to your limit, and even if there’s some sort of sick satisfaction in seeing you so agitated at his hands when it’s usually the other way around, he doesn’t enjoy upsetting you.

the problem is, suguru knows it’s either he gets his shit together or he continues tormenting you, and, well.

the spirit is willing but the flesh is so, so weak.

he knows it’s getting worse, too, because he’s not infatuated by you only when you’re undressing on his screen, or all dolled up in class.

when you tie your hair up in a ponytail, when you suck on a hangnail, when you lick your thumb to erase a smudge on your paper… all of it drives him wild.

he can’t teach with a permanent half chub anymore. this has to end, one way or another.

you sit down in front of your computer, adjusting the camera before turning it on. soon, viewers start trickling in, little dings notifying you of their messages.

you smile, waving at the screen.

“hi everyone! i know i’m a little bit late today, i hope you can forgive me…” your eyes scan the chat, giggling at the compliments. “‘you look tired, sad face’, ah. i’m sorry. i guess i’ve been a little stressed lately.”

your robe falls over your shoulder as you readjust your position. a few donations come in, accompanied by supportive messages.

“you guys are so nice. it’s not a big deal, it’s just this dude giving me a hard time at college.”

you absentmindedly trace your collarbones, reading what your viewers are saying.

“you’ll kill him for me? that’s so sweet,” you joke. “nah, it’s not a student. it’s a professor. exactly, ynlover444, a grown ass man picking on me!”

you sigh deeply, allowing your body to finally unwind and relax on your chair. you prop a knee up against the armrest, giving your viewers a little peek in between your legs. you’re wearing one of your favorite sets, trying to get in the mood after the week you’ve had.

“ugh, sometimes i wish i could just…” you suck in a breath, clenching your hand into a fist before releasing it. “sit on his face and get him to shut up, you know?”

you laugh at the countless me firsts that flood the chat, bringing a finger to your lip.

“anyway! enough about that horrible man,” you reach beside you to grab a box your viewers know all too well by now. “let’s get to the fun stuff, shall we?”

as always, satoru is no help.

“why don’t you just fuck her?” he asks, eyebrows arching above his sunglasses. “ya gotta just fuck her.”

suguru clears his throat before taking a drag of his cigarette. “i’m not fucking a student.”

satoru shrugs. “everybody does it. besides, you basically already do.”

suguru wonders, not for the first time, why he ever told his friend about his situation. about your streams, that he’d stumbled upon randomly and innocently and had gotten instantly hooked, about you barging into his classroom like an angel at hell’s gates, about you you you you, everything about you.

“that won’t fix anything.”

satoru clicks his tongue, swirling his soda inside the can.

“poor, naive suguru. did you not just tell me about what she said on her stream?" and yes, regrettably, suguru had told him. "it’ll fix everything.”

suguru doesn’t even let himself consider it, except he does.

at this point it’s no secret that he’s thought about being inside you, but now that you’re here it’s just too real and too risky and completely fucking wrong.

it goes against the entire life he’s built for himself.

he’s lost. he wants you so fucking bad, wants you close, wants you so far away, wants to ravage you and never have to see you again.

it’s fight or flight. if he got you alone, it could go either way, he realizes that.

suguru wonders what part of him will win by the end of all of this.

your heels clack on the linoleum floor of the hallway as you approach professor geto’s classroom, megumi’s graded paper clutched tightly against your chest.

the thing about megumi is that he's a star student. he’s never gotten anything below an A on any of his essays, makes the dean’s list every year, tutors his seniors. so the big, bright B- on the page tells you everything you need to know.

damn right it’s personal.

you don’t even bother knocking, slamming the door open while still trying to contain your indignation.

geto is sitting at his desk, piles of papers sprawled on top. he has his white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows and a surprised look on his face that would be cute if you didn’t want to slap it right off.

he says your last name like he’d been expecting you all his life.

“to what do i owe the pleasure?”

your jaw clenches as you take a few loud steps towards him. you slam megumi’s paper down on his desk, leaning over.

“professor geto, i demand an explanation. a real one, this time.”

the man takes a deep breath, lips twisting disapprovingly. he smoothes the paper over.

“as i already explained in my notes right here, the structure is fine, but i couldn’t help but miss a more in-depth analysis of the four nodal concerns of philosophy that we talked about in class, such as—“

“no,” you interrupt. “just no. you know you’re bullshitting me and i’m sick of it. this paper deserved an A!”

“miss—“

“what’s your problem with me?” you spit out. your eyes finally meet and there’s nothing in geto’s that could answer your question. your chest is heaving, lips wobbling and hands shaking, trying to contain your anger.

geto clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “like i said, your paper could’ve used a bit more—“

“no it fucking couldn’t have, because it’s not my fucking paper, it’s fushiguro’s fucking paper and the only reason you gave it a B is because i was the one who handed it in!”

he sits up, straightening his posture.

geto sounds austere when he asks, “do you realize how much trouble this could be for both of you if i reported it?”

you can’t believe this man. he’s been picking on you the entire semester and when you finally confront him about it this is what he chooses to focus on.

“are you fucking kidding me?” that earns you a stern look from him, eyebrow raising taller than that fucking high horse he sits on. “professor geto. what did i ever do to you?”

there must be something earnest in your voice because geto sighs, getting up from his chair.

he walks until he’s standing in front of you, leaning against his desk and crossing his feet.

“do i bother you?” is all he says. it surprises you.

you jut your chin out. “as a matter of fact, you do.”

the man hums.

“i bet that’s really difficult for you,” he speaks like he’s sympathetic, like he understands. he sounds almost sheepish when he says, “i bet sometimes you wish i would just shut up.”

you blink rapidly. “no, it’s not like that. it might shock you but i genuinely do enjoy your class, it’s just that—“

“or maybe you wish you could shut me up,” he continues, ignoring you. “maybe going as far as to say that you could… sit on my face to get me to shut up.”

your mouth goes dry.

before your brain can fully process the shift in the atmosphere or the fact that your professor is maybe possibly hitting on you, you realize where those words are coming from.

it’s what you said. about him. on stream. right before fucking yourself on your hot pink dildo.

you can’t speak, can barely even look in his general direction.

you had really thought things couldn’t get any worse. had barged into his office with nothing to lose, almost hoping he would cordially invite you to remove yourself from his class permanently.

but now? now you have no idea what’s going to happen to you.

“i…” you start, the words dying in your throat. geto chuckles, crossing his fat fucking muscly arms across his chest.

he says your name, low and syrupy. “is it true? you’d like to?”

you can feel your face flush hot in embarrassment, and you shift your weight from one foot to the other, wishing desperately that you’d never walked into his classroom.

you have half the mind to apologize to him, right now.

“it’s just a figure of speech,” you try. geto clicks his tongue.

“what a shame.”

your wide eyes shoot up and meet his. “w-what?”

he smiles sweetly.

“it’s a peace offering. you can take it, or we can forget you ever said anything,” and isn’t he just so slimey, actually, when he’s the one who brought it up. he had said it, and now…

now you can finally allow yourself to look at him.

those delicious, broad shoulders, the ever-present bored look, the stubborn fringe that falls out of his bun.

you could so easily forget what you came here for.

“so, like, a truce?” you ask, taking a daring step forward. geto nods, uncrossing his arms. “and you stop treating me like i’m fucking dumb?”

he tilts his head. “i think you’re a very smart young lady. determined. entrepreneurial…”

“geto—“

“professor geto,” he corrects you, hands reaching out to graze your hips. “you’re intelligent. i just like to push my students.”

you both know that’s a lie, but it’s okay, because now you know exactly why you got under his skin and it makes your own burn.

you run a hand down the line of buttons on the front of his shirt, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“then… push me, professor.”

it’s so incredibly lame, the porn line you hit him with, but to your surprise it works, a low groan rumbling deep in geto’s chest.

he swiftly closes the distance between the two of you, grabbing both sides of your face and crashing your lips together.

it’s ravenous, the way geto dips his tongue inside when you gasp in surprise. you moan against his mouth, slipping a leg in between his two.

he’s half hard already when he rubs up against your thigh.

geto picks you up with ease and sets you down on his desk, and it’s so fucking cliché, the papers crinkling under your weight, the pens clattering to the floor. but it turns you on beyond belief.

you share a few open mouthed kisses, an exchange of tongue and moans and hot breaths between your lips.

if you were honest with yourself, you'd admit that you've fantasized about it before. a silly idea, at first, something you'd just blurted out mid-stream.

but that little seed had been planted, and when you got yourself off that night, you might've imagined for a moment that it was your mean professor's cock squeezed tight inside you, making you come undone.

geto slips his hands under your skirt, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to him. you line up your crotch with his, moving your hips in tight little circles that make the both of you groan.

his fingers are tugging your underwear down, down, the soft patch sticking to your gooey cunt. he lets the soaked fabric dangle from your ankle, grazing the back of his knuckles on your core.

“mmm, fuck,” geto breaks the kiss, swallowing. his pretty lips are flushed and shiny, parted around his panted breaths. “you always get this wet or am i special?”

he’s smirking, the bastard, leaning back in to kiss your neck.

god, you smell so good, like lotion and perfume and sunshine and sin.

“shouldn’t you know?” you sneak your fingers up into his bun, pushing your chest against him. he works his lips expertly on your skin, using just the right amount of teeth, of pressure.

geto hums against your neck, kissing a line up to your jaw. he snakes a hand under your skirt, thumb pressing down hard to rub on your clit, two fingers slipping inside.

you immediately clench, a soft, drawn out mewl leaving your lips.

the slide of his fingers against your walls send a chill down your spine, filling you up so perfectly. you feel the thin skin at your opening stretch around him, burning at the friction as his fingers plunge in and out of you.

“god, look at that,” he rests his forehead on your shoulder and pulls the hem of your skirt up. “do you hear that, baby? so fucking wet for me.”

you whine, hands cupping his jaw so you can kiss him again.

“please…” you mumble against his lips. “more…”

you wonder how much of what you can say he's heard before, which exact words have left your lips and sent him over the edge. it makes you self conscious, oddly, like he can see right through you.

not-so-kindly ignoring your request, geto removes his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth.

you watch as his eyelids flutter in pleasure, a hum rumbling low in his throat.

he looks so good like this, just edible.

you pull him in for a kiss before he can, relishing in the surprised little noise he lets out. your knees are wobbling, feet dangling from your seat as you taste yourself on his tongue.

he swallows your moan hungrily, forearms trembling with the need to hold back.

geto knows this is wrong, so wrong on so many levels, puts both your positions in jeopardy, it makes him feel perverted and primal and so fucking alive.

he’s been watching you fuck yourself on those silly toys for god knows how long now, knows every spot that makes your hips buck, knows exactly how to make you cream like a debased slut around a cock.

it should feel unfair, how easy it’s going to be for him to make you cum, only if it weren’t for the fact that your mere presence is enough to get him hard as fucking diamonds.

“tastes good, huh?” he whispers, thumb caressing your chin. you nod, smiling devilishly.

“tastes better on your tongue, prof.”

geto groans low like a starved animal, holding your throat in his hand with a loose grip. he’s overwhelmed, that much shows, not knowing what to do with you or where to start. but there’s one thing he’s sure of.

he presses one last kiss to your spit-slick lips before dropping to his knees.

you can hardly believe it. sulky, big bad bully professor geto suguru on his knees for you. you prop a foot up on his desk, your sole skidding on a piece of paper.

“scoot closer, please,” he asks, cordial even like this. you bring your ass to the edge of the desk, your dripping pussy hovering over his face.

he looks so good under you, hair already disheveled, a delicious tent in his tailored pants.

you tuck the hem of your skirt into the waistline so you can watch as he sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning like he’s fucking relieved.

you throw your head back, fingers buried in his silky hair as geto’s fingers find their way back inside.

he fucks them in and out of you lazily, pushing out strings of slick. geto slurps it all up, spreading your wetness all over your clit and sucking it back in his mouth.

god, his cock is straining in his pants but he doesn’t dare touch it, can’t until he’s inside you. you taste like fucking heaven, like all his fantasies, like he always knew you would.

you’re whining softly, bucking your hips into his face almost shyly, as to disrupt his pace.

you sound so much better in person, although he can’t wait to have you moaning into his ear without needing the headphones.

“god, this perfect pussy,” geto mumbles into you, his breathing labored. he runs a thumb all over your cunt, gliding it over your soaked lips. “been dreaming about it for so long.”

“yeah?” you ask. “tell me. tell me how you stroke your cock to me every night.”

and every night might be overselling it. geto is a busy man.

but your words do make him realize that no girl he’s had since he found your stream has satisfied him quite like you do. your flirty smile, your moans, the way they sometimes turn into uncontained giggles as you stuff your pretty cunt with a dildo.

so he tells you, blush spreading across his cheeks.

“fuck, i do,” he tongues your clit, tracing lazy circles. “i do. just look what you do to me.“

and there it is, that cheeky, slutty giggle, directed at something he said this time.

he takes his fingers out, spreading your opening with both thumbs as he licks you all over.

geto gulps, tongue dipping inside of you, sucking your clit into his mouth, sliding down to your entrance, every clench of your pussy pushing out more and more slick for him. no one's ever eaten you out as thoroughly as this.

“oh, fuck, sir,” it slips out casually, the way it would were you talking to any other professor. but given the circumstances, you revel in the deep moan geto buries into your cunt.

you trap your lips between your teeth to keep anything else from tumbling out, but it’s useless.

“please, sir, i’m so close—so close just keep doing that, yeah just like that—“

“fuck,” he mumbles, pulling away to suck in a desperate breath. then, “fuck,” sultrier, right into your core.

you grind against his face, finding purchase in his hair as a final few flicks of his tongue push you right into the crest of a mind-numbing orgasm.

it’s so good, so much better than when you're alone. the friction so perfect, his long, thick fingers plugging you up last minute to viciously fuck into you.

“god…,” you breathe out, legs trembling as he runs his hands up your thighs.

his chin is glistening, bubbles of spit and cum gathering in the corner of his mouth. he looks so good like this, like he was meant to please you and nothing else.

geto feels like a fucking teenager, so goddamn close to busting in his pants at the sight of you. his dick hurts, balls tight and the head throbbing where it’s tucked into his underwear.

“please, sweetheart,” he can’t hold himself back any longer, slick fingers already undoing his belt.

you get to work on his zipper, pulling his pants down along with his underwear and damn.

you figured he was big. he was a tall man, broad shoulders, shoes the size of a yacht, and the bulge in his trousers was a pretty good indication. but it couldn’t have prepared you for the sheer size of him.

longer than it is thick, cleanly shaven, pretty veins and ridges and standing angry red in attention. god, you want it inside you.

he notices you looking.

“do you need more prep? i can—“

“no, fuck no, suguru, need it inside me now,” you wrap a hand around him and he hisses, caging you in with his arms on the desk.

he huffs out a laugh, blowing the fringe framing his face. “what happened to sir?”

you kiss down his jaw, squeezing right below his tip.

“sorry, sir,” you say against his ear. “are you going to punish me for my slip up?”

geto groans, pulling on your hair hard and making you face him.

“take your shirt off for me,” he instructs, and you obey, maneuvering around his tight grip on the back of your head.

his spirit is so unbreakable.

here you are, teasing him, coaxing him to rough you up, push you around, relieve both your frustrations properly once and for all, but he’s just so… adoring, and hungry, and just so irrevocably into you, and you find out that’s so much better.

geto relents his hold on you to unclasp your bra, cupping your breasts and sucking a nipple into his mouth. you whine, caressing his hair.

“so fucking perfect,” he massages your tits, looking mesmerized.

“yeah? they haven’t gotten old to you yet?”

he laughs, so cute, and you can barely remember that just hours ago you hated the sight of him. you stroke his cock up and down, squeezing harder at the tip trying to milk all that delicious pre he’s been wasting on the inside of his boxers.

“no, f-fuck—never gonna get old,” he pushes your boobs against each other, imagining his cock sliding in between them, his balls nestled underneath, his load blown all over your pretty face—

fuck, he’s gonna cum if he keeps going like this.

he rips your hand away from him, ignoring your knowing smirk and pushing his tongue into your mouth.

“i’m gonna fuck you now, okay, sweetheart?” you moan, nodding, shimmying your hips so he can have the perfect angle.

a big hand clasps your thigh to wrap your leg around his hips as his tip pokes around your entrance.

you’re whining in anticipation, clenching around nothing, nails clawing his clothed back.

when he slips in, it feels like coming home. you’re like warm honey around him, cunt pushing him out but clinging to him at the same time, with every stroke. it’s fucking maddening.

“ahh, g-god, sir, ‘s too big—“ you swallow around the lump in your throat, feeling the tip of his cock in your guts.

he’s huffing, concentrated, bullying his cock into you inch by inch with shallow thrusts until he finally bottoms out.

“fuuuuck, angel,” he grips your waist with both hands, like he could just fuck you up and down his length if he wanted to. “took me so well, look at that.”

you do, dropping your heavy head to look at where you’re connected. you clench around him and he whines, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in.

the metal legs of the desk skid on the floor, papers and pens raining down to the floor as geto starts roughly plunging in and out of you.

you let out little ah, ah, ahs in time with his strokes, the ache deep in your stomach finally starting to fade.

“f-fuck, you’re gonna—topple us over, suguru, go easy—“

“can’t,” he chokes out, wheezing as he pushes his cock in as far as it can go.

he gives shallow little thrusts, his length straining the fine skin at your entrance so good, hitting a spot inside you over and over that makes your head spin.

your fingers twist into the back of his shirt, pulling him in to whine right into his ear.

he’s so big, stretching you out so thin that you feel every ridge and vein, can feel both your heartbeats inside your cunt.

“ohhhhh fuck, fuck sir, please please touch me—“

he grabs your ass before you can even finish your sentence and presses you flush against his hips.

geto’s tip is kissing your cervix now, his balls sticky and creamy against your ass, your clit grinding against his pubic bone as his thrusts violently shake the both of you.

“fuck, wanna do it so fucking loud but i can’t, we can’t, what if someone walks in—“

you moan wantonly at his words, expecting to be chided, but geto seems to love it despite his worries because his cock kicks deliciously inside of you.

“look how loud you’re being, listen to yourself,” he grunts out, the belt pooled around his feet clanging with every stroke, the absolutely lewd squelches from your pussy resonating in the entire classroom.

you two sound so good together, better than you’ve ever had, better than he could’ve ever imagined.

“so loud, so wet on this cock,” he spits out, sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead. “do those toys make you feel this good? this full? answer me.”

“hahh, n-no, no one but you,” you can’t think straight, head thrown back in pleasure and eyes squeezed shut. “only you, sir.”

geto whines like he’s aching, pounding into you mercilessly and making a mess under the two of you.

“fuck yeah, that’s right. i’m making you feel good, baby?”

“mm-hm,” you mumble, tongue lolling out. geto's going so hard now, has you pressed up so tight against him, body caging you in, fucking every breath and thought right out of you. “close.”

“yeah?” he speeds up his effort slightly, and you’re sure he’s going to have desk-edge shaped bruises on his thighs tomorrow. “gonna cum on my cock? cream all over me?”

you let out a long, drawn out whine, tits bouncing up and down with the force of geto’s thrusts.

“let me see your face when you cum, darling,” he cups the back of your neck, breathing hard through his nose. “keep your eyes on me. that’s right, sweetie, so good, you’re doing so good.”

you preen at the praise, feeling suddenly self conscious with the man's laser focus attention on you.

you coo out little noises, growing in desperation, holding onto his biceps for dear life as his hips piston in and out of you.

your pull him into you closer and rub your clit against him, grinding helplessly as your orgasm creeps closer and closer.

the moment you open your eyes and meet his hungry ones, you’re cumming. your walls spasm around him, making the glide of his dick impossibly wetter with your release.

geto chokes on a sound, his cock hostage of your pussy’s vice-like grip as your greedy cunt milks him for all he's got.

“f-fuck, baby, look so pretty when you cum, always look so fucking sexy so fucking perfect that you’re gonna make me bust, i’m gonna cum for you god gonna cum inside, gonna blow my load all deep inside this pussy—“

it’s the most desperate he’s ever sounded, speaking through clenched teeth and a soaked mouth. you moan in return, letting him use you.

he slams his forehead down your shoulder when he thrusts once, twice, three times and cums, his balls drawing up so tight that it hurts. he fucks it into you with shallow thrusts, panting, almost wheezing in pleasure.

it feels like it lasts forever, his orgasm. like all of the blood in his body goes straight to his balls to push out the thickest, most satisfying nut of his life into the prettiest girl he's ever seen.

you feel it fill you up so good, hear it, too, squelching and sticking to both of you.

geto’s body slumps against yours and you stay like that for a while, catching your breaths. there’s cum sliding out of you, down his balls, onto some poor student’s essay you have your ass on top of.

when he pulls out of you, he takes a beat to watch it spill out of you some more, his face and chest red, his smile groggy.

“god, this,” geto has to fight the urge to say thank you for letting him fuck your brains out. he swallows.

“yeah,” you blink away the haze, feeling sore and fucked out. “this.”

“…is probably going to happen again, right?”

he knows it shouldn’t. he knows it will.

maybe both parts of geto can learn to coexist.

you grin, touching the tip of your tongue to his lips.

“well, i still haven’t made good on that promise of sitting on your face, have i?”

the next morning, in class, the students erupt in happiness at the news that professor geto had an accident that ended up ruining most of last week’s graded papers he had in his possession.

so he decided to give everyone an A for their troubles.

and finally, finally, there was peace in the world.

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buckys-wintersoldier · 12 days

Text

Like an animal | Bucky Barnes

Pairing -> Avengers!Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Fem!Reader

Summary -> When you don’t want to hear when Bucky says something and you get hit by sex pollen he makes sure you know that you should listen to Bucky when he says something.

Wordcount -> 2.371

Warnings -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, smut, sex pollen, slight thigh riding, oral (fem!receiving), unprotected p in v, rough sex, hate sex, using of the word slut

Request -> Heyyy. I saw your Bucky smut menu and I couldn’t resist lol. Could you do 1. Either enemies to lover or sex pollen (maybe both idk im not picky) 2. Protective Bucky (I wouldn’t oppose to him being slightly jealous too lmao) 3. Oral f receiving and hate sex. And for the petnames I cannot stand anything like pet, kitten, bunny, puppy. No shame to ppl who like them, im just more simple. I'm fine with stuff like babe/baby, doll, honey, sweetheart. I hope this wasn’t too picky lol😭❤️🤞🏾 @blckbarbiedoll

A/N -> Thank you so much for the request. I hope you like it. I tried to include everything you asked for so yeah just read and decide if you like it or not I guess haha. Divider made by @firefly-graphics.

Events -> Bucky Barnes Smut Menu

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky groans when you just hit the Hydra Agent before he runs away and you follow him. The brown-haired man told your brother he would take care of you, but you’re always so stubborn around him and need to prove that you can do things on your own. Of course he knows, but being the protective man he usually is, he is even stronger when he is with you. Not only because of your brother, who is also his best friend, but also because he likes you. Way more than he admits, he really likes you since the day you started to work together, and the two are always around each other. But a part of him hates you for being so stubborn; at least he hates you in a way that he wants to fuck your attitude out of you and teach you some manners.

He tried to convince you to help, but you were just shaking your head and pushed him away before you punched the other agent. Bucky was standing there, rolling his eyes, but he knows he shouldn’t make you angry; otherwise, he would get some punches as well.

When you run after the agent, he follows you with a groan. Looking around the corner to be sure there is no other agent. When Bucky walks around the corner, the floor is empty, and he can only hear some shouts and some noises, which tell him that you’re beating the guy up.

Meanwhile, you’re in a room with the agent; he just ran into it, and in your headspace of wanting to punch him, you follow him. You don’t really look around you; you’re not noticing the suspicious things around you. The only thing you’re focused on is the Hydra agent opposite you.

“You’re such a naive little girl, aren’t you?”

“Shut up. You don’t know me, and a little girl couldn’t punch you like that,” you shout and walk closer while you lift your hand.

He laughs darkly, waiting until you’re just a few steps away. Then he pushes a button, and a loud noise echoes through the room. You immediately cover your ears with your hands, trying to make the noise quieter. The agent pushes you to the side; you fall and crash against a table before you fall to the ground and make yourself smaller. You press your legs to your chest, your head resting on your knees, while you see the man pushing another button. Then he leaves the room, the noise gets quieter, and you inhale loudly, relaxing your body while there is a complete silence in the room.

You slowly sit up, looking around, but the Hydra agent isn’t in the room anymore. The doors are closed, and you inspect the things around you. There are a lot of containers, big containers. They are filled with some kind of colorful gas, and you wonder what kind of experiments they are doing there.

“Y/N? Are you there?” Bucky shouts from outside the room, trying to open the door.

“Bucky, did you catch him?”

“No?”

“Then do it!” you shout annoyedly back and roll your eyes.

“No! We need to get you out of that lab; there are chemicals.”

You sigh, annoyed. Bucky crashes with his shoulder against the door. While you hear him groaning, you stand up and walk over to one of the containers.

“BUCKY!”

“What? I try to open the door, oke!”

“Yeah, hurry up. It-It’s cooking,” you shout back, taking a step back when the liquid connects itself with the gas.

“What?”

Before you can answer, it bangs, and a big cloud of liquid and gas is over the container, slowly getting bigger like the fog during a rainy and cold morning.

“What the fuck are you doing there?” Bucky asks, and you laugh sarcastically.

“I didn’t do anything. Here are some liquids and gases, and it just- I don’t know. It’s green! Is that normal? Is it supposed to be green?”

“I don’t know. I’m not Bruce.”

“Bucky! James! When he is green, it’s not good, so get me out of that room.”

The fog coats the room, and even when you try not to inhale it, you feel it slowly rushing through your veins, and everything starts to tingle. You feel like you get needy in a way you never were before, and you feel your pants dripping, soaking your panties immediately. You moan softly, your hand slides between your legs, and you shiver at the touch of your fingers. You rub the fabric of your panties and pants against your wet folds, feeling a bit of relief when you move faster against your fingers. A moment later, the door crashes, and you remove your hand. With wide eyes, you look at Bucky, who just broke the door and is looking around.

“Get out of there, doll,” he demands, holding his hand out for you to grab it.

“B-Bucky. I-“

He makes you shut up when he holds your hand and pulls you against him. His firm, muscular chest presses against you, and you groan softly. His leg is pressed against your cunt, and you start to grind yourself against it, making Bucky look at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“What do you think you’re doing there?”

“Please, those- Bucky- Sex pollen,” you mumble, your head falling against his chest while you move your hips slowly against his thigh.

He gasps, his hands immediately around your waist to push you back slightly. Your head falls back, and your eyes are filled with pure desire and lust when you look at him. You bit onto your lip, trying to push your hips against him, feeling the friction you had when you moved against his leg, but he holds you still.

“Please, Bucky.”

“You should learn some manners, shouldn’t you? Running after a Hydra agent and being in one room with him. He could have done filthy things to you. Do you like that? Do you like being used by a man?” Bucky groans; his eyes darken when he feels his dick harden in his pants.

As much as he hates the thought of you being used as a fuck toy by someone else, he loves the thought of using you as his own little doll. Where he can let out his jealousy and his frustration that you just can’t listen during missions and that you always talk back.

“Answer me!" his tone is rough, his fingers digging into your waist, and you moan softly.

“Yes.”

Bucky groans and leans closer to you. Then he presses his lips onto yours and pulls you closer, his hard dick pressing against your stomach, and you whimper. His hands roam over your body, finding their way up your sides, squeezing your breasts through the fabric of your shirt and bra before he slides them back down and lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and your lips never leave his while he carries you to the next counter he can find.

With one movement, he shoves everything off the surface and places you on top of it. He takes a step back, still spreading your legs apart while his hands glide along your thighs. Bucky grips the waistband of your pants, tugging at them. You move your body up to help him so he can take off your pants and panties. And he does; he shoves both down your legs and smirks when he sees your already dripping pussy. You moan; the cold air hitting your wetness makes you even more desperate, and you want to move a hand between your folds, but Bucky stops you, gripping your hand and pushing it away.

“Don’t dare to touch yourself. You need to learn manners, and I will teach you them.”

Bucky gets on his knees in front of you, his hands sliding along your thighs before he grips them and holds them apart. Then he kisses a trail along your stomach until he reaches your pussy. His tongue slides through your folds softly, and the warmth of it lets you shiver. Bucky lets go, smiling when he sees your hands gripping the surface to ground yourself.

“Good girl,” he praises.

With a short kiss on your stomach, he guides his tongue back to your folds, sucking softly at your clit and circling it with his tongue before he lowers his movements to your entrance. Your moans and whimpers encourage him to continue to give you the pleasure you want him to give you with his tongue.

“Don’t cum before I allow you to cum.”

You nod, and he raises an eyebrow, looking at you. His hot breath against your wet pussy, coated in your arousal and his saliva. Bucky works his tongue slowly inside of you, taking his time while you push yourself more against him, trying to get more of his tongue. More of him inside of you.

“Bucky-“

“I teach you manners. So we go by my pace,” he explains, kissing your clit.

“You’re a tease, aren’t you, Barnes?”

“Such a big mouth for such a little girl, huh?”

He nibbles softly at your clit, sliding his tongue through your folds again before he kisses every inch of your private part. Bucky loves the way you whimper to get more of the pleasure he gives you. He brings you close to your orgasm, but whenever you want to cum, he just kisses your skin softly. He just needs to push his tongue inside of you, and you are almost over the edge, your walls clenching around him, and he imagines his dick inside your wet, warm hole. The way you’re going to squeeze it when you cum and the way you will moan his name when he thrusts his dick deep inside of you.

Bucky gets up, making you whine. He smirks, his hands still sliding over your thighs before he removes them. You want to protest, but you don’t when you hear him unbuckling his belt before he pushes his pants and boxers down. His hard cock springs free, the tip leaking with pre-cum. He is huge, and you smirk softly when you see the veins running along his shaft. Bucky grabs his cock, stroking it a few times while he rubs his thumb over his tip and smears the pre-cum all over his dick. Then he slaps his dick against your clit, making you gasp.

“You’re so needy,” he says, his cock resting between your wet folds.

Then he likes his dick up with his entrance and pushes himself inch by inch inside of you. He stretches you open like no one ever did before, and your walls are already squeezing his dick. Bucky tries his best not to cum immediately; the warmth and tightness of your pussy make him go crazy. He pushes himself inside of you completely. You moan loudly, your hands find their way to his shoulder, and you grip them. Then you pull him closer, and Bucky breaks the distance between your lips, kissing you roughly while he gives you a moment to adjust to his dick.

Bucky pulls out of you, thrusting inside of you even harder. He is rough, fucking your attitude out of you and the way you talk back. He slams his dick inside of you, forcing it completely between your tight walls. You almost scream at the harshness of his thrusts, his balls slapping against your ass while he fucks you like a wild animal. But the two of you need it - the roughness, the slight pain inside of you, which turns slowly into pleasure. A kind of pleasure you never felt before, one only he can give you while he fucks you like a slut, a toy that just wants to be used by Bucky.

“I hate your fucking attitude,” he says, pulling out to slam his dick harder inside of you.

You scream, your fingers digging into the skin of his back. Your back arches, and you move against him, wanting him deeper.

“I hate the way you always need to talk back.”

He uses his metal hand to grip your throat. Bucky just holds his hand there; he doesn’t squeeze your neck.

“Fucking. Little. Slut,” he groans between his thrusts.

“Bucky- I’m-“

“Shhh. But even when you annoy me with that, I love you, doll,” he admits while he fucks you like an animal.

You throw your head back, overwhelmed by the pleasure he gives you. You feel every vein of his cock; he hits your sweet spot whenever he thrusts inside of you.

“I wanna cum, please. I- Bucky, I love you too. Can I cum? Please?”

He chuckles, bringing his other hand to your clit and rubbing circles on it. At the same harsh pace, he pushes his high lengths inside of you.

“Cum, doll. All over my dick.”

And you do as he tells you. While you scream his name in pleasure, you feel the know in your stomach snapping, and you cum all over his dick. Bucky watches in awe at you while you cum, then he looks down where his dick is connected with you. His cock is covered in your cum, and he groans. When you squeeze him even more, he doesn’t need long until he cums inside of you, painting your walls with his seeds while he slows his movements. You both breathe heavily, your bodies covered in sweat, and Bucky lets himself fall down on top of you. Your hands slide from his shoulders into his soft brown hair, and you play with them.

“Do you mean that, doll?”

“What?”

“That you love me too.”

“Yeah, I love you, Buck.”

He smiles, leaning closer to kiss you softly. His plumb lips perfectly fit against yours.

“Let’s clean us, and then we go back to the compound. I will make sweet love to you there. How does it sound? And then a movie night.”

“But I decide the movie,” you say.

The two of you laugh before he kisses you again and slowly pulls out of you. Bucky helps you to clean yourself before he cleans himself between a lot more kisses.

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨

𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛

Taglist: @sergeantbarnessdoll @kandis-mom @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry

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toutallyahoe · 24 days

Note

*coughs* milkman x doppelganger! male reader with tentacles *coughs*

━ good neighbour ,, that's not my neighbor

pairing(s): francis "milkman" mosses x doppelganger! male reader warnings: cursing, monster fucking, dub con, tentacle porn, sadism/masochism (?), dacryphilia (?), monster [name], doppelganger [name] a/n: ask and you shall receive mahal <333

also sorry if its shit, i literally wrote this as i was high and sleepy on the bus lol

Francis did not know how it happened... but it did. One moment he was relaxing in his apartment room, lying on a worn-down couch in the living room as he was trying to get in some rest since he was tired from another day of delivering milk. The next he was opening the door to his next-door neighbour who had knocked and asked for some help as you were locked out of your room since you forgot the keys inside.

Francis didn't think too much of it at first. You, his neighbour was a nice young man after all, whom he was on decent terms. And it wouldn't be bad to be a good neighbour even though you did disturb him from sleeping. Sure, it may be a bit suspicious with doppelgangers running around to copy people's faces to get into buildings to kill off residents, but the doorman of his building had never been wrong before. And who was he to not help his neighbour who had always been very kind to him, sending him a smile or a wave each time Francis went out for the day to do his deliveries when you coincidentally go out at the same time to work?

But how did this happen?

Opening the door to his apartment and welcoming you in, you immediately sent him an apologetic look as you told him that you were going to call the building manager to help with your lost keys... before Francis knew it, he was pushed to the wall with his arms pinned above his head by the very same neighbour of his, looking at him with an amused look, eyes now red and had no sense of that warmth that Francis was used too.

"You made things very easy," You had said as Francis felt his voice stuck in his throat as he stared in horror when tentacles appeared behind you... was this even you? Pretty sure no normal human has.... this?!? "Aw, scared? I didn't even do anything yet."

A doppelganger. The damn doorman let a fucking doppelganger in and Francis was stupid enough to also let said doppelganger in his apartment!!!

"Please," Francis' voice was weak as his body began to shake in fear, knowing well what would happen next from the doppelganger being here. His door was already locked and the damn thing was in here with him. All alone. "P... please..."

The doppelganger of his neighbour let out a chuckle which gave Francis goosebumps. It was deep and gruff and Francis would have swooned if it wasn't from the current situation. You leaned close to him, tilting your head and you grinned. Francis gulped upon seeing the sharp teeth. So sharp, it can probably tear off flesh... definitely tear off flesh.

"Please?" You asked, mockingly using the same scared tone Francis had as the tentacles behind you moved to replace your hands from pinning Francis to the wall. "Please what, sweetheart?"

"Don't kill me," Francis managed to say as his heartbeat escalated. Shit. You were close. Too close. "Please don't kill me."

"Now we can't do that," You said as you shook your head. Francis let out a hiss from his wrists was squeezed by the tentacle that pinned it. A whimper escaped his throat when his tired eyes widened from you leaning more closer to him. "No, we really can't..." You paused for a second as your eyebrows furrowed. Looking at Francis for a second as you hummed.

Francis waited with bated breath, hitching when he heard the doppelganger's next words. "Well, unless..."

Francis' legs were spread out as he was still pinned down, on his couch this time. Every muscle in his body was tensed as pants left his lips. He threw his head back when he felt the large tentacle that was inside him hit his prostate each time it thrust inside him. "Shit!" Francis tried to muffle his moans but a slap to his face made him whimper and cry, his moans pouring out like a waterfall now. He tearfully looked at you as you grinned at him, in between his legs as you loomed over him.

"Let it all out," You commanded as you pinched Francis red and abused nipples, twisting the bud harshly. Making the Milkman whimper as his body was quivering from the intense pleasure and pain. Another tentacle was then pushed inside his hole, stretching him more which burned but Francis had to admit, it felt so good.

"I'm... 'm sorry," Francis slurred as he let out a loud more feeling both tentacles rubbing his swollen prostate vigorously that it was borderline causing him pain now. The pace was harsh yet he couldn't do anything with that. He was at the mercy of the doppelganger looming over him. "I won't — won't... I—" A cry leave his lips as his dick twitched, another release was coming and it really didn't take long, not from the abuse his body was getting. Before Francis knew it, the knot in his stomach snapped as he came, his back arching as he threw his head back. Spurts of cum came shooting out his red, aching cock into the air and hitting you a bit.

You clicked your tongue in annoyance as you slapped Francis in the face again. "Did I say you can come?" You asked as you glared at the quivering body of the Milkman, leaning down, your hand found themselves in Francis' neck. You smiled, sharp teeth showing as you squeezed at the Milkman's throat which made Francis let out choke noises. More tears fell down Francis' eyes as his lips quivered

"Please."

You only chuckled as you brought out more tentacles from behind you. "We aren't done yet, sweetheart."

#top male reader #⌦｡.:* ━ c;francis mosses #⌦｡.:* ━ f;that's not my neighbor #⌦｡.:* ━ w;sadism/masochism #⌦｡.:* ━ w;monster fucking #⌦｡.:* ━ w;tentacles #⌦｡.:* ━ w;dacryphilia #⌦｡.:* ━ tw;dub con #↳ ❝ ⸢ sapphi 💙 ! ! ⸥ ¡! ❞#: ̗̀➛ ❛ . . . tou works! ❜#: ̗̀➛ ❛ . . . bitch thirsting! ❜#: ̗̀➛ ❛ . . . tou responds ❜

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miss-tc-nova · 3 months

Text

S/O Inexperienced in Relationships - TWST Housewardens

Not a day has gone by that I haven't been working on this. I'm SO sorry this took so long but I interpreted this in a few different ways and had to decide how I wanted to write it. But it's done!!!

Also, sorry for not using a fem!reader. I've apparently conditioned myself to write around that.

As for the question of my patience, I've answered that here, lol.

Premise: The Prefect is acting a bit odd

Words:

Riddle: 308

Leona: 357

Azul: 296

Kalim: 364

Vil: 351

Idia: 400

Malleus: 362

~~~~~

Riddle

Riddle has started to become suspicious.

You almost seem paranoid—second guessing every single move you make. The foods you choose, the clothes you wear, and apparently even the path you take to class. There is nothing that seems to get the green light the first time around.

At first he lets it go, seeing as it doesn’t interfere with his duties. But as the problem persists, it does begin to interfere in the relationship. This wasn’t a thing before you started dating.

He never thought he’d frown upon fastidiousness, but you checking and double checking that little book of yours has interrupted far too many activities and is beginning to irk him.

So he demands the book only to be stunned at the Queen’s rules written inside.

You had been spending hours upon hours trying to abide the Queen’s rules that Riddle knew by heart.

However, Riddle has recently come to terms with the idea that not everything has to be perfect—that people can just live. So while he admires your dedication to adhere to something he finds important, he’s concerned for your wellbeing.

When he questions why you would go to such lengths for this, you shyly, embarrassedly admit that you were afraid of losing him. You’ve never had many friends, let alone significant others. You didn’t really know what made a strong, enduring relationship.

But you knew the rules were important to him.

Riddle finally understands, warmth bleeding through his chest as a smile pulls at his lips.

“I don’t mind if you know the logistics of a relationship or not. What matters is that we build this one together. And while I admire your dedication to study the Queen’s rules, I would much rather you preserve your health. You’ll learn them in due time. Until then, please, just be yourself—my beautiful rose.”

~~~~~

Leona

Leona’s ire is growing.

This is not what he thought your relationship would be like.

Sure, he didn’t expect you to be throwing yourself at his lap or hanging off him, but to not even smile when he approaches you? If he didn’t know better, he’d say you weren’t even dating.

He’s starting to go out of his way to get a reaction out of you. Taking things out of your hands and pretending to examine them—sometimes returning them, sometimes not. Leaning against you, and if you manage to resist, he’ll just go limp until you crumple beneath his weight.

In some rare occasions, if you’re having a conversation with someone, he’ll just pick you up and walk off. Honestly, he’s impressed you haven’t snapped at him yet.

Eventually, while your attention is focused on studying, Leona snaps. He snatches the book from your hand and hurls it over the balcony of his room, leaving you stunned.

When you ask if he’s okay, he turns the question back on you. When you insist that there’s nothing wrong, he demands to know if you regret agreeing to go out with him.

Denying that accusation is not enough as Leona persists that you “don’t act like it.” Your retort turns out to be that you don’t know how to “act like it.”

His confusion finally gives you a moment to explain. You never had many relationships with anyone, including romantic kinds, so you have no idea what you’re doing in this relationship. All you really know is that Leona isn’t into clingy types so you tried your best to be the opposite.

It takes Leona a moment to soak in the information before he promptly tells you that you’re an idiot through a smirk.

“Look, I can’t say I’m a relationship expert but do what you want. Pretendin’ to be someone you think makes me happy is just stupid. And clearly not workin’ for ya, so you might as well go back to bein’ that person I asked out in the botanical gardens. Now get over here. We’re takin’ a nap. No, you can get your book later.”

~~~~~

Azul

Azul regrets his decision.

At first, he thought having you take on some of his responsibilities was a great idea. He didn’t even ask you to; you volunteered.

You can easily run the Lounge in his absence, scheduling shifts, obtaining stock, and whatever else that needed doing. Hell, he even trusts you to facilitate contracts on his behalf.

He’s thrilled to have the free time to look into new ventures.

Except, with all this free time, he starts to notice that you have none.

You’re always on the move, always writing, always busy. And it seems to be taking its toll. You look tired, the spark in your eyes gone.

Regret sinks in, mostly because he can’t remember the last time the two of you actually spent time together.

It takes several attempts to pry you away from your work to finally talk and Azul starts right off with reducing your workload. When you refuse, he persists, his suspicion growing until he finally asks why you’re being so stubborn.

You crack. The last thing you want is to lose him because you aren’t good enough. Friends, let alone partners, aren’t something you understand very well for lack of experience. Without that knowledge, you concluded that becoming as useful as you could was best.

A smile tugs at his lips as the man pulls you into his arms.

“My darling, I promise I’ll be just fine running things without you. But more importantly, I promise that nothing will change between us. And while most may find experience advantageous, I think I more enjoy the idea of us learning to be together, together. Now, I’ve taken the liberty of clearing both our schedules for the day. And I would enjoy nothing more than to spend it with you.”

~~~~~

Kalim

Kalim is…confused.

He loves you and he is absolutely basking in all the affection you shower him with.

But it doesn’t feel like you anymore.

Shortly after you began dating, you began fawning over him at every opportunity. Your arms were always wrapped around him and you always kissed his face when entering or leaving his presence.

The thing that really clued Kalim in to something being wrong was the constant smile on your face. You had a beautiful smile when it was genuine. But this smile is forced.

On top of that, you aren’t the kind of person to be this overly affectionate. It must be draining to keep up such an energetic façade. And the last thing Kalim wants is for someone close to him to pretend to be someone they’re not.

He mulls over how to ask you about something that you might find sensitive.

Then he catches you without your mask. You look tired and anxious. And he can’t hold it in anymore.

Ignoring your smile, Kalim gets to the point, asking point blank what’s wrong.

You deny at first, but he begs you not to lie to him. He cares too much and, after what happened with Jamil, he refuses to let someone else suffer in silence if there’s anything he can do.

So you tell him. You tell him that you were pretty much alone in your world, no friends or romantic partners. You don’t know how to act or what’s expected; you’re even more lost when it comes to dating a freaking prince. You can’t offer anything that he didn’t already have. All you have are your feelings for him.

Hearing your worries, Kalim drags you into his arms. Of course he’s happy that you would shower him with love, but he wants the real you, all the time.

“Mmm, I don’t really know what romantic relationships are like either. But I don’t think it really matters. It’s okay to not be happy all the time. I mean, I love seeing you smile, but I love you no matter how you feel. So please don’t pretend just for me. Oh, there it is—the most beautiful smile.”

~~~~~

Vil

Vil holds his tongue a bit too long.

Initially, he’s impressed by the sudden, significant effort you put into your health and appearance.

This included morning workouts, tracking every meal and drink, and spending hours making sure you look perfect for the day. Not a hair out of place nor a frayed hem—all the best you could do with what you had.

And Vil encouraged you. Yes, he noticed that you weren’t exactly thrilled with the new regime, but no one really is in the beginning. But he wanted to support you.

Yet the longer he observes your efforts, the more he realizes that this attempt to “better” yourself is having the opposite effect.

Sure, you’re more glam, but your emotional state hasn’t improved. In fact, you seem exhausted. You smile and act bright, but a true actor could see through it. He’s ashamed he let it get this far.

But he’s not letting it continue.

He catches you on the way to your next workout and gets to the point, asking why the sudden uptake of your rigorous routine.

You tell him you’d always meant to be healthier and just never had the motivation to. So he retorts asking what this new motivation might be.

This is where you hesitate, growing embarrassed. Vil’s gentle insistence coaxes your worries into the open. You were a loner in your home world so you have no idea how you managed to catch the eye of one of Twisted Wonderland’s biggest celebrities.

You gush about how perfect Vil is but you’re just you. You’re terrified to lose him, so all you could think to do is adopt Vil’s way of life.

A soft laughter escapes him as he presses a kiss to your head.

“While I admire your efforts to emulate my lifestyle, the last thing I want is for you to be miserable every day. You can make little changes; I’ll support your every step. But even if you don’t, you’re still perfect. And who has a better eye for perfection than I do? That’s right. You are my perfect, little gem..”

~~~~~

Idia

Idia may have missed his cue.

A new patch released on one of his games, so of course he was lost to the world.

Throughout the whole thing, you kept quiet, never interrupting his game as he spent endless hours hunched over his keyboard.

However, the moment that end credit scene concludes, the young man sits straight, rubs his eyes, and immediately notices a distinct lack of you.

Ortho informs him that you haven’t been around for a few days. Seeing as you spent nearly all your free time with Idia since you two started dating, that sounds suspicious.

When his messages receive no reply, he forces himself to trudge out of the dorm for the only person he’d brave society for.

In Ramshackle, he finds you doing homework. But as he opens his mouth to tell you about his fantastical adventure, he stops himself. Even as you look up at him, your mouth is shut, but even more, you look sad.

Awkward as hell, Idia sits beside you. He’s grateful for your courtesy of letting him enjoy his game, but even he admits that ignoring you was rude.

So he asks why you didn’t interrupt him.

Your shoulders shrug. Idia had been excited for this expansion. You’d never been in a relationship before, but it felt wrong to rain on his fun. Besides, you were used to being alone so you didn’t see a difference.

He stares, lips twisted shut. Then he stands and leaves, marching straight back to his dorm where he gets to work for the better part of two days—including shipping.

Then he returns to drag you back to Ignihyde. His cluttered room is a little more so—filled with empty boxes and wrappers. But right next to his desk is another, set up very similarly. Meanwhile, Idia himself fidgets, a tint of pink on his face.

“So, yeah, I was a major jerk for going AWOL and I totally deserve to be reemed. But I’d totally take being interrupted over tanking our relationship. ‘Sides, the OG you is way more valuable than any platinum. I know! Cringe! But, if you’re interested, maybe we can just party up instead? Yeah, it’s got the latest specs and I already downloaded the best RPG so we can play together. No worries, let Gloomurai show you how to stomp those other noobs! Why are you laughing? Oh geeze.”

~~~~~

Malleus

Malleus can tell there’s something, but isn’t entirely sure what.

The shift was minute, the slow withdraw.

All was as it should be when your relationship began. Malleus could not have been happier.

Then the creases worked their way across your face. Sure, you smiled with Malleus, but when conversation lulled, it vanished and your eyes turn downcast.

You always seemed lost in whatever concerns occupied your mind and, soon enough, even Malleus couldn’t regain your attention very easily.

Inevitably, he gains some clue when a song of praises of the great heir come exploding from Sebek’s mouth. As the freshman demeans another student for some trifling reason, the dragon distinctly notes your aura recoil. The floor has your attention and you’ve never looked so uneasy.

This worries him. All his life people had kept their distance, but to have the love of his life do so as well—he’s not sure he could stand it.

So the prince bides his time, waiting for a moment of privacy before his fear becomes unbearable. And with a heavy heart, he asks if his status has finally gotten to you.

You bashfully admit that it might have and he feels his heart cracking.

But you continue. Your experience in relationships is miniscule. You’ve only just begun to learn what it means to have friends but in romance your knowledge is woefully non-existent. The thought of maybe one day needing to lead a whole kingdom of people is terrifying. What if you mess it up?

Word by word, Malleus begins to realize that this isn’t about him or his status. He scorns himself for thinking you would care about that; nevertheless, it does ease his own worries.

Because he has nothing but faith in you.

“After everything that’s happened, it’s peculiar that you worry about such things. I may not be well versed in relationships myself, but I’m not concerned with whether or not you’re good for my kingdom. You’re good for me—perfect just as you are. And together we’ll learn and be an example of what it truly means to care for one another. Mm? Are you blushing? Was it something I said?”

~~~~~

#gender neutral reader #malleus draconia #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #riddle rosehearts #kalim al asim #idia shroud #vil schoenheit #twst x reader #novas requests

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queen-of-deans-booty · 4 months

Text

I'll Always Choose You

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.8k

Warnings: car accident, injured!reader, bitchy girlfriend, angst, fluff at the end

Request by @jessicalynnann: I’m requesting another one lol. Can I get a request where the reader and Jensen are best friends and Jensen is falling in love with her but his gf is really rude to her and makes him choose. Well the reader hears and distances herself… well Jensen realizes it is too late and the best friend is the one that makes him happy but the reader gets into an bad accident. You decided the ending. Thanks.!!!

Summary: Jensen is back in town with his new girlfriend and is hosting a barbecue to get together with everyone and catch up. This is the first time you're meeting her, and she doesn't take you to as kindly as she leads everyone to believe she is.

Square Filled: in vino veritas (2021) for @spndeanbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Jensen hasn’t even been back for more than a week and he’s already having a barbecue at his cabin in the mountains. He rents the place out every summer and invites everyone he knows to stay with him for the weekend. The place is big enough to house two dozen people and Jensen knows a lot of people. It’s been a few months since Jensen has been home since he’s traveling with his new girlfriend. You haven’t met her yet but you have talked to Jensen about her. He seems to be crazy about her so you’re not going to ruin what they have.

Yes, you have a crush on him. Yes, you love him. Yes, you’d do anything to make him happy. Yes, he is your best friend. No, you won’t do anything about it because he seems to be happy. What kind of friend would you be if you took that away from him?

Once you finish getting ready into a summer flowy dress, you grab the food you cooked and pile into your car. The cabin is located in the mountains up north so it takes you an hour to get there. There are already a bunch of people there but you don’t mind being later than everyone else. You pull into the driveway and see Jared’s car indicating that him and his wife are already here.

You let yourself into the house and enter the kitchen to place your food there when you see a young and beautiful woman. She must be Denise, Jensen’s girlfriend. You recognize her from the photos he’s sent you.

“Oh, hi. Denise?”

She looks you up and down as if she’s judging you.

“Yeah. You must be Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you smile.

“You have such a cute dress on. Don’t let the drinks ruin it.”

It’s the way she says this that makes ou suspicious. She seems a bit passive-aggressive like she doesn't like you. Instead of giving you a chance, she’s already decided that she doesn’t like you. You’re not going to let her ruin your night because you came here for one thing and one thing only.

“I can handle myself. Where is Jensen?”

Speaking of, your best friend walks inside the kitchen using the back door with containers of food in his hands. He looks at you and a big smile breaks out on his face.

“Y/N! You came!” He sets down the food and scoops you into his arms. You don’t miss the way Denise is glaring at you two. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

“Baby, you promised you’d show me around,” Denise says and pulls her boyfriend away from you. “Remember? You said you’d do it when you got done outside.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He turns to you. “I’ll be right back. Jared and Gen are outside.”

“Okay,” you nod.

Denise practically drags him away, leaving you all alone. You shake off this bad feeling you’re getting and join the others outside. Jared is talking to some guys off to the side while Gen is heping prep the table for the food. Joshua, Jensen’s brother, is using the grill to make his famous chicken on the other side of the backyard.

“Y/N!” Jared says a bit too loudly.

“Whoa, are you okay?” you chuckle and hug him.

“Yeah, I’m great.”

Jared has always been a light weight despite how tall he is. He definitely has the weight to keep the effects of alcohol away but he acts like he’s a hundred pounds when he drinks. It only takes a few drinks to really get him going.

“What number of drink is that?”

“Three?”

“You drink any more, you’ll bring out Doug. Do you really want to do that?”

“Probably not,” he chuckles.

You have fond memories of Jared’s alter ego coming out after he’s had too many to drink. The night usually ends in the cops being called but it’s memories you love to think about.

“So, I met Denise.”

Jared starts laughing at the tone of your voice.

“Yeah, everyone has that same reaction when they first meet her.”

“What is her problem?”

“I don’t know. She’s not the best person to be around but no one says anything because it seems like Jensen is happy. They’ve only been dating for a few months but they seem happy together.”

Jensen and Denise come back from the self-tour and you watch as she clings to his side even though he wants to go over to his friends and converse. He has a smile on his face that doesn’t quite reach his ears. He might be happy but it’s not true happiness.

“You don’t know him like I do.”

You leave Jared’s side to join Jensen’s. He has yet to tell you about his trip and now’s the perfect time to do that. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him, you just want to be around him. However, Denise sees you walking over to them and she tugs on Jensen’s arm to grab his attention. She leans in and whispers something in his ear that causes him to chuckle.

“Sure,” he nods.

They both walk off before you can get to them, and Denise looks back at you to gauge your reaction. You pretend like you weren't walking to them and veer to the right where Gen is. She says something to you but you’re not paying attention. You stare at the couple until they disappear around the corner of the house. Jensen didn’t even see you coming toward him.

You push down your feelings and enjoy the company of everyone else until dinner is served. Jensen took the seat next to you before Denise could pull him away so she is forced to take the other side of him. Everyone digs into the delicious food immediately and the conversation somehow gets on the topic of how stupid Jensen has been in his past.

“Once Jared told me I couldn't do it, I had to prove him wrong. I climbed up to the roof and got ready to jump into the pool.”

“I told him not to do it but he wouldn’t listen,” you chuckle.

“Yeah, so I got a running head start and jumped off into the pool. I made it in but it was shallower than I thought, and I broke my arm on the side of the pool.”

“You were a big cry baby,” you laugh and lean on his arm in laughter. “I held your hand the entire way to the hospital.”

“That you did,” he smiles down at you.

Denise’s jaw ticks in annoyance and jealously. She grabs her alcoholic drink and walks past you as if she is going to get a refil. However, she “trips” and she spills her entire drink all over your new dress. You gasp from how cold it is and stand up in shock.

“Oh, I am so sorry!” Denise apologizes.

“Shit, that’s cold!”

You look down at your dress to see the alcohol already staining your dress. You look at Denise and see the malicious intent in her eyes. She might be faking an apology but you know she couldn’t care less about this. She did this on purpose.

“Here, come with me. Let me clean this up before the stain sets.”

“Do you need me to come with you?” Jensen asks.

“No, I got this,” Denise chuckles.

She takes you into the cabin before you have achance to say anything. As soon as the door is closed, she becomes a whole other person. She drops the nice girl act and shows her true colors.

“I don’t know what your problem is, but stay away from my boyfriend.”

“My problem? What are you talking about?”

You grab some napkins to dab your dress without her help.

“You can play games all you want but he’s mine, and I’ll make your life miserable if you keep doing what you’re doing.”

“I don’t want him,” you lie.

“Please,” she scoffs and rolls her eyes, “I saw the way you were looking at him the entire night. Stay away from him or I’ll do more than pour alcohol down your dress.” She walks back to the door but pauses because she’s not done talking. “I am better than you in every way. You might be the best friend but I’m his girlfriend, and I always get what I want.” She gives you a sweet smile as if she didn’t just threaten you. “It’s nice to meet you though. Sorry about the dress.”

As soon as she leaves the kitchen, tears roll down your cheeks. You can’t go back out there looking like a mess so you dry your cheeks and your dress as much as possible before going back outside. Everyone is mostly done with dinner so they’re standing around instead of sitting. Jensen immediately walks over to you with a look of concern on his face.

“Hey, are you okay? I can pay for the dry cleaning.”

You look at Denise who is watching you with careful eyes. Jensen might genuinely be happy with her so you can’t take that away from him and tell him how rotten his girlfriend is. Plus, would he even believe you? Yes, you’re his best friend but would he believe you over his girlfriend?

“No, it’s okay. It was a misunderstanding,” you sigh.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

You excuse yourself and walk over to Jared who has been watching you three the entire night. He had two glasses of water at dinner so he’s sobered up some more. He sees the look of defeat on your face and nudges you arm.

“They won’t last.”

“What?”

“I don’t see them lasting another month.”

“Why would I care?”

“Come on,” Jared chuckles. “We all know you’re in love with him.”

“Shut your mouth, Jared,” you snap.

“What, am I wrong?”

You look at Jensen and Denise who are all over each other. She has her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands are low on her hips. You have to hold back your tears.

“It doesn’t matter how I feel. She clearly doesn’t want me around.”

“Give it time.”

Jensen and Denise walk into the cabin to do God only knows what, and you decide it’s best if you leave now. You don’t want to spend the night and have to hear them through the walls.

“As much fun as this whole thing has been, I should go now.”

You give Jared a side hug so you don’t get the alcohol on him.

“Good luck.”

You can’t leave this party without saying goodbye to Jensen. You’ll steal a couple of minutes and leave and that will be that. You don’t even have to give him a hug goodbye . You walk inside the house in search of your best friend. You walk past the kitchen into the living room where you overhear Denise and Jensen talking.

“What’s wrong? You were fine when we showed up.”

“I don’t like that you spend so much time with her. I’m your girlfriend who loves you.”

“She’s my best friend.” Great, they’re talking about you. How can you go in there now? It’ll only be awkward and you’ll give away that you’ve been listening. “We grew up together.”

“You’re with me now. Y/N needs to find someone she loves and leave us alone. I don’t want to be rude but it’s obvious she wants you.”

You can’t see Jensen’s face from where you’re at but you can only imagine what it looks like.

“You’re overreacting.”

“Do you have feelings for her? Is that why you’re being this way?”

You hold your breath and wait for his answer.

“Be this way? What are you talking about?”

“It’s me or her. Pick one. You can’t have both.”

You can’t bear the thought of hearing his answer because there is a chance that he might choose her. You quickly leave the room without hearing his answer and escape to your car. You shouldn’t have come. He has been with Denise for months across the world. He probably has a lot more fun with her than he does with you. He’s found someone to replace you with. You can’t fault him for choosing her. She can give him everything you can’t.

You peel out of the driveway and start the journey back home. Tears are flowing down your cheeks making it harder to see the road in front of you. It’s a particularly windy day so your car is slightly shaking; nothing you can’t control. It doesn’t help you’re driving in the mountains with no light except for that of your headlights. Through your tears, you don’t see the car on the other side of the roading coming straight at you.

You hit him going seventy miles an hour head on, and you’re thrown from the windshield and onto the groound. You left in such a hurry that you forgot to put your seatbelt on. The car you hit is a much bigger car than yours so it doesn’t have nearly as much damage as yours. The car slams on its break before slowly driving off, leaving you on the ground outside.

You gasp in pain and stare at the starry sky above you. Blood runs down your body and pools on the ground. You never took time to admire how pretty the night sky is. Your entire body is in pain but there is a certain peace that comes with being on the brink of death. You close your eyes to get some sleep when you hear someone calling your name off in the distance.

How much time has passed? It seems like minutes but could have been for much longer.

“Y/N!” Jensen gasps and slides on the ground when he gets to you. You open your eyes and see red and blue lights flashing off his face. “I’m right here. You’re going to be okay. Just hang on for me, okay? Please be okay.”

“Sir, you need to move.”

Jensen is pulled back so the paramedics can come in and do their job. You close your eyes because you’re so fucking tired. You feel yourself being lifted off the ground and onto something softer than the ground. You’re wheeled on a gurney into the ambulance with Jensen following closely behind.

“Sir, only family are allowed inside.”

“I’m her husband,” Jensen shouts and pushes past the paramedics.

They allow him to sit inside and be with you until they get to the hospital. Jensen grabs your bloody hand just as you roll your head to the side. You barely squeeze his hand to let him knwo you’re with him and not going toward the light no matter how tempting it might be.

“I’m right here, sweetheart. I’m holding your hand.”

The next time you open your eyes, you’re confronted with blinding white lights. Is this what Heaven is like? Did you die? You blink a few times to correct your vision and see you’re not in Heaven but a hospital room. You groan softly and look to your right where Jensen is. He is holding your hand with his head lowered like he’s praying. When he hears your painful groan, his head snaps up.

“Sweetheart. Hey, I’m right here.”

“Jensen?” you croak.

“Do you need some water?” You nod and he grabs a small cup of water. He helps you drink before setting the cup down. “How are you feeling?”

“What happened?”

“You collided with another car. The bastard left instead of staying but cops found him near where the cabin is. There’s only one road going in and out of town so it wasn’t hard to spot the truck with bumper damage. Your car is totaled though.”

Oh, yeah. The reason why you didn't see the other car is because you had tears flowing out of your eyes the entire time. Why were you crying? Right. Jensen was going to choose Denise over you. You take your hand away from his when you remember this and shift further from him.

“Where is Denise?”

“Gone.” Your eyes snap to his. “I broke up with her.”

“What? Why?”

“She made me choose. Anyone who makes me choose isn’t good enough to be with me.”

“What did she make you choose?” you ask even though you know the answer.

“It was either you or her, and you should know by now I will always choose you.”

“You shouldn’t have had to do that.”

“I’m glad she did.” He grabs your good hand and kisses the back of it. “I was blind to who was by my side my entire life.”

You smile and run your thumb on the back of his hand.

“What does this mean?”

“First, you get better. Then, I’m going to show you just how much I love you.”

“Deal,” you smile shyly.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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hyperfixatedbastard · 2 months

Note

do you write hypnosis stuff?? it's not specifically against the rules but idk it's kind of an iffy era for a lot of writers-

if it's okay with you, could you write some Vox x Singer!Reader who he uses his mind control on to sell their soul to him so they remain under the VoxTek label? (im sure remaining with him is an ulterior motive of his as well lol)

thanks :]

I can absolutely do that! I’m a little iffy about NSFW hypnosis, but I can do a SFW oneshot :)

siren songs

Obsessed!Vox x Singer!GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

WARNINGS: Yandere-ish behavior, hypnosis, manipulation, toxic behavior, all that good stuff

A/N: I told y'all I'd be back with some toxic Vox!! I wasn't entirely sure how to end this one, but I've spent enough time rewriting it to stop caring. This one is only romantic in theory - nothing actually romantic happens between Vox and Reader, it's more mutual pining than anything else This is also my first time writing obsessive behavior, so I hope I did it well!

Dividers

You’ve been working with the Vees for years now. You were originally recruited by Velvette, who’s like a bloodhound for new talent. She saw some popular videos of your singing online, and she made you famous.

But you don’t work with her that much, oddly enough. Over time, you gradually started to see her less and less. Vox was the one to take her place. By the time you noticed, there wasn’t much you could do about it—you’re certainly not an equal to the Vees, so there wasn’t much you could do. Sure, you could’ve quit then and there, as you’d never signed a soul-binding contract, but you really liked your job. You were getting to do what you loved for a living! Who wouldn’t want that?

Well, you. You don’t want that anymore. You’re getting burnt out. You feel like you’re out of creativity for writing songs, and singing no longer has the same appeal it used to. It feels like a chore. Getting on stage doesn’t get you excited—it just fills you with dread.

Then you saw the videos of the annual clown pageant down in the Greed Ring. How Fizzarolli, Mammon’s favorite little jester, just…quit. Just like that.

Can you do that?

You don’t have backup like Fizzarolli did. There’s no Prince of Hell to protect you if the Vees lash out in response to your resignation. But the Vees aren’t Mammon. They’re powerful Overlords, sure, but they wouldn’t kill off an easy cash grab like you. And they don’t have any leverage to use against you—you’re a fucking superstar, you learned to stop keeping secrets a long time ago.

Yeah, you can totally do this!

You spend the next week making a plan. You currently live in V Tower, so finding another living arrangement is a priority. Luckily, your standards are just as low as before you got famous, so snatching up an apartment doesn’t take long. You’ve been building up savings for some time now, just little bits here and there that wouldn’t look suspicious among your bank withdrawls, so you have enough money to last you a while. You’ve made a go-bag, but you’re not too worried about bringing anything with you, as you have enough cash to just buy new shit. By the time the end of the week comes around, you’ve got your escape plan ready to go. All that’s left is to actually quit.

You decide that directly speaking to Vox is your best option. Velvette and you don’t have the same rapport that you used to, and Valentino is just… no. During your time working with Vox, you like to think there’s some sort of friendship there. The two of you chat amicably, and he always makes sure you’re okay when it comes to creepy fans and the like. You feel like there could be something more than just friendship, but you don’t plan on staying long enough to find out. As much as you like Vox, you’re not willing to spend the rest of your afterlife hating every second of your job just for him.

You stand outside Vox’s lair, mentally preparing yourself for this conversation. You take a deep breath, and right before you can knock on the door, it opens.

Okay, here goes.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

You aren’t as sneaky as you seem to think you are.

A normal boss wouldn’t have noticed the small transactions in your bank account, or the little trips you’ve been taking to go look at apartments. But Vox isn’t a ‘normal boss’ by any means. And he noticed.

From the moment Vox set eyes on you, he knew he wanted you. You’re beautiful, and fuck, your voice—he just can’t get you out of his damn head, no matter how hard he tries. And he really fucking tried. But he couldn’t avoid you, thanks to VoxTek being such an integral part of your performances. And you’re like a damn siren with that voice of yours, even though he’s supposed to be the hypnotizing one here. Eventually, he just gave in and accepted that he was more than a little obsessed with you. That’s why he started drawing you closer to him, pushing away Velvette and taking control of your brand. He doesn’t like sharing.

Obsession isn’t a particularly new feeling for Vox. He certainly has… tendencies. But this isn’t like whatever the fuck he’s got going on with that deer-headed, old-timey bastard Alastor. It’s not a lust thing, either. You’re certainly attractive, and Vox most definitely would sleep with you, but that’s not the main factor at play here. This is a deeper obsession than any of that bullshit.

Vox knows that he doesn’t own your soul. He’s well aware that he can’t truly stop you from quitting. Even if he managed to trap you inside V Tower, he can’t force you to keep up the performances. If he had you under a proper soul-binding contract, though…

He would own you.

Now, he’s not Valentino. He doesn’t plan to take that kind of advantage over you. He doesn’t want to change a damn thing. He just wants you to stay.

And he will make you stay.

He knows when you approach his office, and he opens the doors with the touch of a button on his desk. He plasters that casually perfect smile on his screen and turns to face you as you enter. The doors shut behind you.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you today, my dear,” he lies easily, the charismatic mask fitting into place like it was never absent in the first place. “How can I help you?”

You hesitate, your anxiety starting to get to you. But you’re determined to do this. You clear your throat and step forward. “I’m resigning.”

Vox’s smile doesn’t falter, nor does his screen glitch. His demeanor is…unnerving, to say the least. You’ve known him to be temperamental, emotional. You expected some kind of reaction. But he’s just smirking at you like he always does.

“I don’t suppose there’s anything I can do to change your mind,” he replies smoothly, tilting his head to the side just slightly.

“No,” you confirm, trying to sound confident in your answer. You’re not sure if you succeed. “I’ve already made my decision.”

Vox sighs, though he doesn’t sound very defeated. His smirk hasn’t gone away, either. “Well, then. It’s been a pleasure working with you, darling.”

He holds his hand out for you to shake. The gesture immediately worries you, as it’s the well-known sign of a deal. But you reassure yourself that there’s no deal being made here. Hell may be chaotic, but there’s rules when it comes to these kinds of things. Neither of you have offered anything, therefore there’s no harm in shaking his hand. It’s just a respectful gesture of a boss wishing their employee farewell. It all feels too easy, but you’re too relieved to think too hard about it.

You go to take his hand, but as you lift your head up to meet his gaze, everything goes fuzzy.

Vox grabs you by your wrist before you can shake his hand. He’s not rough with you. He’s careful of his claws, ensuring they don’t put too much pressure on your skin. Not that you’d notice, either way—your mind is far gone at this point, thanks to those spirals in his eye.

“In exchange for your soul, you’ll remain under the VoxTek label and continue working for me. Your work will remain the same as before. You’ll forget about leaving. You will want to stay here. You will want to stay here with me.”

A golden scroll appears out of thin air, and it floats in front of you as it unfurls. “Sign it.”

Your body moves on its own. You sign your name on the line at the bottom of the page.

Vox releases your wrist, and takes your hand in his own as his eye reverts back to its normal state. When you come to just moments later, he’s shaking your hand with calm professionality.

“I’m glad we got that sorted out,” Vox remarks smoothly, his smirk looking almost proud now. “I look forward to your next performance, my dear.”

You blink a few times as you become more lucid and aware. “Uh, yeah. Can’t wait!”

You smile, and Vox releases your hand, seemingly satisfied with your answer. You don’t remember what exactly you came in here for, but you’re happy with the outcome. “Perfect.”

#hazbin hotel #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #vox x you #hazbin vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox x reader #the vees #gender neutral reader

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xxacademy · 5 days

Text

Throne of His Own

This fic is inspired & adapted from chapter 42 of A Court Of Mist And Fury, by Sarah J. Maas. Plot is original, but I took heavy influence from the events of that scene. <3

Leon Kennedy x Agent!Reader (she/her)

18+ MDNI !!

Summary: Being sent to a rural French village to go undercover with a band of vampires was strangely typical for your line of work— But, pretending to be lovers with another agent was anything but typical. Adapting yourself from a trained agent to a submissive lover unfolds in an unexpected series of events.

Word count: 10.2k

Content warnings: smut, AFAB anatomy, exhibitionism, penetrative sex, pet names, slightly mean possessive Leon (only when he has to be), alcohol consumption, typical violence and themes associated with resident evil (like mentions/ use of weapons).

a/n: somewhere, deep in the void, this was intended to be about 2k words, just a little one shot... but now here we are, lol. anyways thank you guys for being so patient, and thank u to my besties on here for being so kind and understanding. life is crazy, and truly i cannot keep up as consistently as i’d like to. i will always be here, even if i take some long breaks here & there. i love all u resident evil obsessed freaks, my life wouldn’t be the same without u xx also i finally decided to not be lazy & do the cute colored letters i hope u enjoy hehe

— PART I —

You peered out the window as you were driven through the endless sprawl of the snow-covered French countryside. A blur of powdery white pines occasionally broken up by small villages nestled into the hills.

Behind all those tall trees were the ragged peaks of the hulking French Alps, so expansive they nearly cut the sky in half. The beauty and stillness of winter was in full effect. Every little village had plumes of warming smoke gathering above the chimneys.

The agent driving the car interrupted your silent musing over the scenery. "You'll have to hike in. It's about 5 miles to the village, but we can't risk getting too close."

With one hand still on the wheel, he reached for the center console, pulled out a large envelope, and tossed it in your lap.

"There you'll find the information you need. Your partner, Leon Kennedy, has been undercover, posing as one of them."

Your voice is monotone, almost disinterested. "And who's them?"

"Some parasite-infected blood suckers. Leon has described them as a vampiric blood cult or something."

"And I'm just expected to waltz into all this? A blood cult? Really?"

"He talked about having a lover, a woman he returned home to, and at the time, it was just banter to fit in with them. But the cultists want to meet her. Either they're getting suspicious, or they want to play ball. Regardless, this served as a rather interesting opportunity to give Leon backup. So here you are."

Your knuckle rests below your bottom lip; you watch as the sun begins its descent below the icy mountain peaks.

So here I am.

You and one of the few other survivors of Raccoon City. You've met him, sure, but you have yet to work alongside him. But, you'd always known the day would come.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

You were driven as far as the meandering forest service road would allow. Ahead of you, where the road was no more, towering evergreens had taken over. Their limbs were heavy with packed snow, creating a dense cover over the forest. Only a sliver of the remaining purple-tinted dusk made it through the trees.

"This is where you're on your own. Here are the coordinates for where you'll meet up. Just stay north until you find an abandoned barn. That's where he'll be."

You nod in understanding, equipping your array of weapons—a rifle on your back, a pistol on your hip, and a machete on the other.

"We'll have you out before the end of the week," the agent said, helping you put your pack on.

"I'll count my blessings," your face was solemn as you faced the trees, attempting to size up what lay ahead.

"Well then, you're set. The best of luck to you." a sympathetic smile formed on the agent's lips as he stepped back into the car.

Without hesitation, you departed into the cold, dark wilderness.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

Seven miles may not have been a lot for you, but Seven miles of trekking through uncharted backcountry in the dark of winter was. You were chilled to the bone, and the numbness of your limbs limited your mobility ten-fold.

The thick undergrowth of the forest only got denser as you progressed, and your machete-wielding arm throbbed with every strike.

You stumbled up an embankment. With every step, loose, powdery snow slipped underneath your winter boots. Each sharp breath you took appeared as mist, illuminated by your headlamp.

As you finally reached the crest of the hill, you spotted a dilapidated barn at the base. It was nestled underneath a skeletal weeping willow tree. As you moved closer, you noticed half of its roof had caved in. Just one billow of wind could send the thing toppling.

You made your way down the slope, encroaching on the barn. You pulled out your pistol and dimmed your headlamp just to be safe.

Focusing on sound, you surveyed the area for footsteps, rustling, or speaking.

There was not a peep to be heard. Aside from the occasional whisper of wind, the surrounding forest was eerily quiet.

The crunch of the snow under your boots was frustratingly loud as you circled the barn's perimeter, searching for traps.

To your surprise, you peeked through a frosty window and saw the dull glow of a lantern, and a man sat beside it.

He was bundled head to toe in fur-lined clothing similar to your own. His eyes flicked up, and they met with yours. Without speaking, he signaled you in.

You couldn't recall what he looked like, but you remember a distinctly boyish look despite him being around your age when the incident happened. But the person who stood before you was a lot different.

This man is rugged and muscular. His cheekbones are much more pronounced, and his pale blue eyes are set deep in their sockets. Gentle yet battle-hardened. All that boyishness has dissipated.

"Leon," he said, stretching a gloved hand toward yours.

You stuttered your name through shivering lips, your hand meeting Leon's in a firm shake.

His tactful eyes scanned you, assumedly noting how cold you were.

"We really should get going. I've been holed up in a cabin only a few miles from here."

"Gladly, I'm freezing my ass off."

Without any further small talk, Leon leads the way, setting out once again for the dark, unforgiving woods.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

"Make yourself comfortable; I'll get a fire going," Leon said, opening the door for you before heading back outside for firewood.

You threw your pack onto the ground beside the fireplace. The room was completely dark, except for the small path illuminated by your headlamp.

You fumbled a matchbook out of your pocket and started to light the myriad of taper candles around the cabin.

Warm candlelight flooded the room, illuminating the interior of the gothic-style cabin. It was constructed of dark, ashy wood—the walls, the floor, the ceiling, and everything else.

Eclectic, mismatched carpets overlapped each other. And dark red curtains pooled along the ornate windows.

He called it a cabin, but the interior was rather grand.

Your heavy .22 caliber rifle had been digging into your back for hours, so you peeled it off with a relieving sigh. As you set it down on the wooden dining table, it made a hollow metallic clunk. You stripped off your other heavy layers onto the table, like your machete and belt, but kept on your fur-lined outerwear. Inside wasn't that much warmer.

With a heavy boot, Leon kicked open the front door, cradling wood in his forearms. With him, a gust of snow flurries blew into the cabin. He again kicked the door closed behind him and dumped the wood beside the fireplace.

"The snow is picking up again. You got here at the right time," Leon said, striking a match and tossing it into a pile of kindling inside the stone hearth.

You sit on a deep red Victorian-style couch in front of the fireplace. You sighed and kicked your boots up onto the coffee table.

"You call this place a cabin?" You say as your hand brushes the fine velvet upholstery of the couch.

"Well, when you see the rest of this village, you'll see why this place is considered just a cabin."

"These cultists must be the extravagant type then, huh?"

Leon piled wood onto the roaring fire, the crackling glow illumining his features. He stepped back from the heat and faced you, pulling off his heavy jacket. "Yeah, to say the least. They're greedy fuckers with bloodlines full of wealth. These gaudy homes just scratch the surface."

"So, now my real question is—how did you weasel your way in? How are you seriously posing as a cult member?" You stretched your shaky hands towards the fire, desperate for warmth. "You can't be serious that you, an American, just waltzed into a French village and are pretending to play cultist," you said with heavy speculation, your stern eyes meeting his.

Leon's lip ticked, calm eyes unbreaking from yours.

"They have plenty of outlets funneling within the United States, which gave us the perfect opening. We intercepted communications from a faction of theirs based in the States and used them as a bleed for information. Eventually, it was requested that they, we, send over a high-ranking nobility to come to France to one, act as a messenger, and two, be part of their transformation ritual."

"And that's where you came in?"

Leon's face went grave.

"Yeah, I trained to be and act like one of them. I learned every piece of information we know about this narcissistic vampire cult and its deviant religion. I've had to change everything about my life and thinking to be here. It's been months kissing ass in the hope of more information."

The room was becoming increasingly warm, and you started to feel claustrophobic in your winter clothing. You began to shed your layers of outerwear.

"That sounds awful. I can't believe you've made it out here, alone, for so long..." you paused for a moment but resumed, "but please, tell me that it has been worth it."

The question loomed thick in the air as you struggled with your boots, eventually kicking them off and walking to the fire to warm your cold, damp feet.

You could really get a good look at Leon here. He wore a tight black shirt that emphasized his muscular build and black cargo pants. His complexation looked soft against the warm firelight, juxtaposing the intensity of his prominent features.

He, too, seemed to be taking in your appearance as you sauntered toward the light. What he was thinking about was absolutely unknown, as he remained stone-faced.

"It has," he said, breaking the silence. "It has been worth it."

Leon's eyes drifted to his hands as if in a trance.

"What we now know about the cultists can completely change the course of this fight. But as I push forward, it's not going to be easy. I don't think this is going to end smoothly. That's why I needed backup." Leon cleared his throat. But there is a catch, too."

His eyes darted up to meet yours. You tensed, straightening your back, an inquisitive eyebrow raised.

"The king, that fucking king, wants me to bring my lover."

Although you were briefed on this situation prior, nothing could have prepared you for hearing it from him directly.

You laughed-- partly to ease the tension, but mainly because the mission-altering crux for the honored agent is his girlfriend.

"It's crazy, I know, but it couldn't be a more perfect invitation to bring another agent in." His cheeks flushed with the slightest hue of red.

"Please, tell me how you got into this situation in the first place". You tried to contain your laughter but failed.

Leon breathed an exasperated sigh.

"Well, the Lords, false prophets more like, banter about their romantic conquests. And well, after they all had drowned on about all the unsavory details, they looked at me, awaiting what story I had to tell."

"And what did you tell 'em?"

"I did what I had to do. I made up stories about having a girlfriend at home... And whatever else would keep them from asking too many questions."

You nodded.

"They also bring their women to the castle and flaunt them like furs. Sometimes, it's literally for their blood. Most of the time, it's just to stroke their own ego by having pretty women hanging off them." Leon added.

Of course, the power-hungry vampire kings saw women as conquests. Ultimately, it shouldn't surprising that it would come to this.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

It's been a long, long day.

You have all the information you need at this point, and the exhaustion is quickly overtaking you.

You yawn with outstretched arms, relaxing them to rub your heavy eyelids. Your body is finally warm, and you realize how well the bone-chilling cold kept you awake.

"I'll show you to your room," Leon said, helping you collect the things you dumped around the room. He led you down a darkened hallway to your bedroom.

"There are some clothes and a few other things you may need. If you need anything else, my room is just across the hall," he stated, setting your things down.

"Is there anything I need to know about tomorrow?" You added before Leon could step out of the room.

"You'll have the day to adjust. We'll go over the mission then. Just focus on resting up for now."

His lips came to a subtle smile, "Goodnight."

You smiled back, "Goodnight to you too."

You surveyed the room, starting with the armoire. It was full of clothes that looked like they were from another time: grand dresses with sheer, lacy fabrics of black and red with low sweeping necklines. There was also a long black hooded cape, corsets, and tall-heeled boots. The drawers below housed underwear and pajamas.

You slipped off your dingy clothes for a long black strappy nightgown from the armoire.

You hid your weapons around the room, your rifle, machete, and extra ammo in the closet, your knives in the vanity, and your pistol tucked under the mattress.

Like the rest of the decor, the bed was ornate. It was intricately carved out of the same ashwood as the cabin. The white sheets were plush and soft to the touch.

After securing your room, you crawled into bed. Falling almost immediately into sleep.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

Blinding white winter's light singed your vision as you woke up in a panic, a persistent cracking noise echoed from outside. It was a splintering sound as if someone was trying to get in.

You stealthily crawled out of bed and cracked open the bedroom curtain to peer outside. Nothing of interest could be seen, only the quiet woods blanketed by fresh snow.

The woods were now illuminated by sunshine, making them appear significantly less intimidating than last night. That didn't make them any less haunting, though.

Pistol in hand, You tiptoed through the house in search of Leon. First, you knocked on his bedroom door, and when he didn't answer, you investigated the rest of the house.

There were no signs of Leon, only the smell of something cooking and the sound of that grating thudding noise echoing through the house.

You silently opened the front door and exited barefoot, the coldness of the snow against your skin sending shivers up your spine. The satin fabric of your nightgown offered no protection from the elements.

One step at a time, you sneaked around the side of the house. The thudding got louder with each pace, and your heartbeat raced with adrenaline.

Carefully, You rounded the corner to the source of the noise. Arms straight, gun drawn.

Leon's eyes, bewildered, raked your figure, and he huffed a laugh, "Good morning, super cop. You must be freezing."

He looked down the barrel of the gun before you put it down.

He was just chopping wood.

Clearly, your senses were on high alert. You felt embarrassed that something so trivial and ordinary ticked those mental alarms.

Defensively, you retorted, "Well, I'm not the one chopping wood in a creepy vampire town first thing in the morning! For God's sake, I thought someone was breaking in or attacking!" You huffed, crossing your arms, a once panicked stare turning to one of annoyance.

Leon dropped the axe in the snow, reaching for a large piece of wood.

"And coming outside, in the dead of winter, wearing only a nightgown would have made a difference?" Leon said with a smirk, but it dropped quickly as he again reached for the axe to chop another piece of wood.

"And a gun! You seemed to have missed that part, and what else was I supposed to do? Spend 10 minutes putting my gear on?" You argued with a pout. Muscles tensed as adrenaline melted away.

You were still waking up and not in the mood to argue. But yes, you definitely could have kicked ass in your pajamas.

"Okay, okay, I promise I'm done pestering you. Breakfast is on the stove. You should go eat."

Begrudgingly, you walked back inside, mumbling your frustrations to yourself. It's safe to say you're not a fan of rude awakenings.

While lounging on the couch, you ate the breakfast of eggs and bacon Leon had prepared. You flipped through your logbook, filling in everything that happened in the last 24 hours.

Leon opened the front door, shaking off his snow-covered clothing before entering. He'd been out there for hours, and it was evident in the sweat that lingered down the side of his forehead.

Standing in the foyer, Leon peeled off his brown fur-lined bomber jacket and casually pulled the sweat-drenched black t-shirt over his head.

You watched him from where you sat on the couch, a bit confused as he acted as if no one was around.

You got a glimpse of the toned plane that was his back. He stretched his arms out, unintentionally giving you a better view. He rolled out his sore shoulder blades for a moment, and you discreetly watched from the corner of your eye.

You stifled whatever the fuck that feeling was and resumed your logbook.

In an attempt to find some grievance, you cleared your throat. It was subtle enough not to seem suspicious but clear enough that Leon definitely heard you.

But you're sure he was aware of you the entire time.

Leon walked toward the hallway and said, "I have a business to take care of at the castle; when I get back, we'll go over what's expected for the mission tomorrow. You'll find the notebook I've kept about these people on the bookshelf. You should skim it to familiarize yourself."

He walked into the bathroom without waiting for your reply. The only sound was the door shutting behind him.

Leon had left to take care of his end of the mission, and you remained alone in the cabin for the rest of the day.

You bathed and changed into real clothes, skipping over the elaborate dresses in favor of the spare black jeans and long-sleeve t-shirt you packed.

You left your bedroom to head to the living room but stopped at Leon's door adjacent to yours.

You were curious about what his room looked like, and rightfully so. He was rather serious, not letting off much about his personal side. Even while working, other agents, like Jill Valentine, had more outward displays of self-identity.

You wondered what the man behind the agent's identity was like, But you respectfully kept walking.

Typically, you're not overly curious about your cohorts, But people like Leon and Jill lived through the same tragedy you did. You often felt alone in your pain, But you found a sliver of comfort in knowing that you, in fact, were not.

You flipped through the very detailed notes Leon had taken. He explained the parasite they intended to use for "world domination," the pecking order amongst the rulers, detailed maps of the castle, and whatever else he found out.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

"Hey, wake up," Leon said gently, nudging your shoulder.

You woke up sitting on the floor, arms crossed and body hunched over the coffee table.

Through blurry vision, you saw Leon beside you, wearing a fancy white dress shirt and a tie loose around his neck.

"What time is it?" You mumbled, sitting up to stretch out your very numb legs.

"Late—I got back about an hour ago, I made dinner if you're hungry."

Leon reached out a hand, and you took it. Grunting as he helped you up.

"Yeah, I am," You replied, your stomach grumbling.

You sat at the dining table with Leon. He prepared grilled veggies and chicken for dinner, which was surprisingly good.

"How'd it go," you asked between bites.

"Fine, everything is going according to plan. We're all set for tomorrow," Leon replied,

"What exactly are we doing tomorrow?" you raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sure you saw those dresses in your room. You'll have to wear one, but it's easy from there. You'll stay quiet and follow my lead. You'll have to act like my girlfriend. But it will also be a good time to familiarize yourself with the castle and, you know, memorize the layout."

Leon took a sip of wine and offered you a gentle look, "Are you okay with that?"

You replied, "Of course I am. It's a pretty small price to pay to take these fuckers down." You flashed a cheeky grin before taking a sip of your wine. "We got this."

You continued to talk over dinner, going back and forth and sharing each other's backgrounds. You told Leon about your experience in Raccoon City— what had happened and how you'd escaped it.

But for you, It was surreal hearing about Leon's involvement in the incident. Hearing about the people he saved, the enemies he took down, and the sacrifices he made were… Comforting.

Comforting to know someone else could actually relate to you.

Comforting to know there is hope.

You know there are scars deep below the surface—you know that from experience. But meeting someone who still cares so much about helping others proves that those wounds do, in fact, heal.

You and Leon cleaned up the kitchen before saying goodnight and heading to your rooms for the night.

You lay in your plush bed, unable to sleep. Your mind is whirring with a frenzy of emotions. Your conversation with Leon is still sinking in. The nerves concerning tomorrow's mission stake their claim.

It's okay. It's okay.

You try to soothe yourself. Suppress whatever unreconciled emotions were brought up.

Just finish the mission.

— PART II —

A beautifully lavish Victorian-style ball gown adorned your body. It has a flowing tiered skirt constructed from deep, blood-red satin. The bodice was corseted tightly to your abdomen, pushing your breasts up so that they are nearly spilling out of the gown's low square neckline. The quarter sleeves fit tightly but poof out at your elbows with frilly lace. The whole ensemble is accented with black bows and delicate lacework.

You watched yourself in the vanity mirror as you carefully pinned your hair up. Enchanted by the unfamiliar person the mirror reflected back.

This wasn't you. But a princess.

A princess who has never killed or witnessed the mass extinction of innocent people. A princess who didn't have to give up her normal life against her will.

Although seeing yourself dressed up like the beautiful person you'll never be was strange. But maybe, battle-scarred government agents could wear pretty dresses, sometimes.

With your hair set in place, you head to the living room, where you are met by Leon in an equally uncharacteristic outfit.

He took in your appearance, a smile decorating his face. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out.

You filled the silence instead. "You look nice." You spoke softly.

He did look nice.

Leon wore a billowy white shirt with ruffles along the neckline. The plunging neckline had a small corset-style detail, and it was tucked into a pair of perfectly fitted black trousers.

Simple, but effectively good-looking. The fit of his clothes came off as rich and a little romantic. Well suited for a band of vampires.

"As do you," Leon said, voice deep and restricted.

You hid your face by looking down at your shoes, concealing the growing flush along your cheeks. "Thank you." You said in almost a whisper.

"Are you ready?" he asked, offering his arm to you.

You nod in affirmation and thread your arm through his.

Leon led you through a little stone path through the woods. At this time, it was only about an hour before dusk.

The combination of winter woods and the near-setting sun created an image of beautiful calm. If you were to let your mind wander, It would feel like you were on a date, taking a stroll through the forest.

"I told you these cultists were sick bastards, right?" Leon said too casually.

You nod, "Yes, you definitely mentioned that."

The dense woods begin to clear, and the path leads to a small village. At the horizon, the pointed spikes of a grand castle make a lethal appearance. You take it all in, honing yourself into a covert weapon. Descending into this "character" of unexpected harm.

"And you understand that how I'll behave tonight is all a part of the act?" Leon asks for your assurance one last time before entering the village.

Your heels land on the cobblestone that had been cleared of snow. The warm glow of the town's candlelight radiates as the sun begins to set.

Making brief eye contact with a villager, you squeeze Leon's arm a little tighter and murmur, "I could say the same to you, my lord." A wicked smile now painted your face.

Leon whispered lowly, "Glad to see you're committed to the bit."

As a pair, you two walked through the town's main pathway, a straight shot to the looming castle ahead. You noted that the townspeople were off.

Very, very off.

They behaved more like mindless zombies than people; their eyes glowed crimson red. Most of them just walked by idly, with no sense of purpose. Others stood hauntingly still, staring at you so intensely you felt it in your soul.

Even the farm animals that lingered on the streets were off. They walked erratically, and their eyes glowed, too.

This place gave you the creeps. Typical Umbrella.

Reaching the castle at last— It demanded your attention with its many oversized spires and massive arched windows. Light flowed red through the stained glass, adding to its intensity.

The snow-covered graveyard and cross-tipped spires informed you this wasn't just a castle but an unholy cathedral.

You had to walk through the graveyard to reach the entrance. You noted the tombstones engraved with outdated French names and dates as far back as the 1800s. It all added to the ancient terror surrounding the looming cathedral.

Upon arriving, the massive arched door began to creak open, and a man clad in a dark red suit greeted the two of you with a thick French accent. "Good evening, Sir Kennedy. We are so very pleased that you and your-" he paused, a sly smile forming, "madame, could make it."

Leon did not reply to the doorman.

He walked past with his head held high and eyes peering downwards. His look emanated superiority as if he had no interest in conversation with a man so far below him.

Leon grabbed your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, guiding you up the curved stairs that dominated the foyer.

You passed servants who wore simple, white, floor-length dresses with aprons and bonnets. Each servant stopped in their tracks to bow their head as you, he, walked past.

The action sent chills down your spine.

What was the true extent of power he reached in this so-called monarchy?

You arrived at a grand arched doorway swirled with ornamental gold detailing. Two men opened the doors in unison, letting you through.

Elegant music flooded the huge open ballroom. Orchestral pianos and violins serenaded your ears.

People waltzed, people drank wine, people talked, and the vampires watched.

On the dais, the looming darkness of men sitting on ornate thrones watched the every move of the people below.

Every seat was occupied except for one.

Everything suddenly stopped. The music went silent, and the people parted, bowing their heads down.

Slowly, you two approached the dais, Standing hand in hand at the steps. The man who sat in the centermost seat smiled devilishly. "Glad you could make it, Lord Kennedy." His French accent was thick.

Leon bowed his head. "Of course, your majesty."

"Why would you want to miss a ball as extravagant, as special, as this one, anyways? Lord Kennedy, we wouldn't want to disappoint our guest, wouldn't we?"

The Lord ticked an eyebrow, reaching a pale, lanky hand to you.

Leon's breath seized but quickly relaxed as he let go of your hand, hinting for you to accept.

You gracefully walked the steps, rhythmically breathing in and out to offset the heavy heartbeat that accompanied each step. The air loomed cold and silent as the echoes of your footsteps filled the hall.

The King was pale as fresh snow, with icy blue veins protruding from his skin. His eyes were glowing red, and long black hair cascaded down his shoulders to his chest. He wore an ornate gold, black, and red suit and a crown topped his head. He looked as if he was once very handsome, but now, he is not so good-looking.

You rested your hand on him, avoiding eye contact. His freezing touch sent a shiver through you.

The King lowered his head and placed a prolonged kiss on the back of your hand. His left hand grabbed your upper arm, turning it so your wrist faced upward. He ran his fingers down your arm, resting on your wrist. A devilish grin formed on his thin lips, presumably from the pleasure in whatever he found in you.

His head raised, but his hand remained fixed on your wrist. You made eye contact this time. His gleaming eyes burrowing into yours.

You could feel your hot blood running against his cold touch. Your pulse filled the silence of the too-quiet ballroom. You wanted to run, but not without a fight, and get out of this Umbrella Corporation daymare.

"Ma chérie," he whispered into your skin.

There is no running. No fighting. Today, you must pretend.

Leon stood beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist, his eyes dark, looking down at the still-seated King.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Leon asked rhetorically, a bite in his tone.

The Lord laughed, releasing your hand.

"No need to be so overbearing, Leon. N'aie pas peur. Please sit and join your fellow nobility."

The last empty chair was his. You scanned the other taken thrones. Some of the men were already turned, marked distinctively by glowing, crimson eyes and a lifeless complexion.

Although some, like Leon, had not yet been turned.

From your reading the previous day, you learned that in the eyes of the cult immortality was a privilege, not a right. They believed one must earn that privilege by dedicated service to the organization before even being considered.

Leon took a seat, relaxing on his throne. You stood beside him awkwardly, not entirely knowing what to do. But, with a tap at your side, you figured it out.

You perched on Leon's lap, your billowy dress flowing over his legs and spilling like blood onto the marble floor. He wrapped a hand around your corseted abdomen, and the other rested in your lap.

Your heart raced a little harder.

"You must be in need of a drink." The King asked.

"Some music would be nice, too," Leon said with a scoff loud enough for musicians on the floor to hear.

The music resumed, and again, the bowing people began dancing. Still, it was finally replaced by the movement and energy of song and dance.

One of the white dress servants arrived with two glasses full of red wine upon a silver platter. Leon made no effort to grab them, so you took them both, passing one off to him.

Leon pressed his lips up to your ear, "drink up, baby," he whispered.

You almost forgot— even your whispers could be herd by the immortal's keen hearing. Every thing that was said, even in a murmur, had to be in line.

It was strange to hear him talk like that, but admittedly you weren't bothered. Although the closeness was unexpected, It's been a long time since you were this close to someone. It had been a year? Maybe two? Since you were at all intimate with another person.

It felt good. He radiated warmth, his touch was gentle, and his handsomeness unmatched.

You downed your glass while Leon sipped on his. His scanning eyes watched the crowd, occasionally flickering back to the King but always ending on you.

He admired as your painted lips caressed the edge of the fine crystal wine glass and how your throat bobbed with each drink.

He called for a refill and demanded more, which the servants promptly fulfilled, And they kept it coming. After every glass you two emptied, they refilled.

Amongst themselves, Leon and the vampire Lords talked about courtly business. and as they talked, Leon's large hands ran down your leg, pulling up your skirt, and exposing up to your knee.

They were talking about war, and all rather intense subject matters. But Leon's hand kept working higher up your legs. Petting and caressing every bit of exposed skin. The King couldn't look away, neither could the other lords, or even the people below.

He used you as a spectacle, to assert his dominance, and power over the rest of the court, and it worked. The commoners were afraid of him, and the lords respected him. He mastered the facade of villainous superiority that belittled all in its path. One that possessed his lover entirely and wanted the world to know it.

His lavish touch across your legs, mixed with the headiness of the wine, brought you to a euphoric state. Coaxed by his affection, you can't help but submit.

Your back arched into his abdomen, yearning for more touch. You could not recall any of the words spoken around you, only the ecstasy of his lips meeting your neck. A soft whisper of a kiss was all he gave you, but your breathing hitched, and your body heated.

You were damned. Damned for liking it as much as you did.

He paused for a moment. Only a minute's break in time, and he still left you internally begging like a dog.

"My, my, what a statement you're making, Lord Kennedy. You plan on sharing?" The King taunted, practically drooling at your bare, pawing legs.

You spoke for the first time the entire night, causing every member of the court's head (that wasn't already) to turn.

"No."

You shot an arrow through the King's fragile pride.

The King's lip twitched. "What a defiant whore you managed to fish up."

Leon laughed, grinning wildly, "Oh, well, you should see how well she obeys me." He patted your thigh in approval, placing an absolutely panty-drenching kiss along your neck.

The King rolled his eyes, but lords couldn't hide their amusement as they stifled back laughter.

Leon rested his knuckle under your chin, "Go on, my love, apologize."

The King retorted snappily, "There's no need for that."

Thank God.

You took an extra large drink of wine to ease the tension, falling back into Leon's warm chest.

They continued on as if nothing ever happened, talking about things you knew nothing about.

Leon listened, cool and aloof, but his hands satiated your need. He resumed the game of inching higher up your leg. His warm fingers trace dizzying circles along your inner thigh.

His calloused fingers felt rough and masculine against your velvet soft skin. He squeezed your thigh, accidentally eliciting a lusty whimper from you.

"You like that, don't you, pretty girl?" Leon's breath grazed along your neck, his lips taunting you mere centimeters away from your bare skin.

You pressed your back into the hardness of his body, a needy and desperate attempt for more—more of his lavish touch. You didn't even care who saw.

You turned a cheek, sharing Leon's darkened, sultry gaze. The usual warmth in his pale blue eyes was totally vacant. He observed you like prey, nothing more than a deer in the crosshairs.

The hand that rested on your waist dragged up to your face and cupped your jaw, his thumb petting your lip, transferring your red lipstick to his skin.

His grip on your thigh intensified, digging hard into your skin. Your lips parted with a soft gasp, and your legs opened wider in response to his touch.

Hunter and hunted.

Leon bit his lip as he slid his finger into your mouth. Your lips puckered pretty around his finger, and Leon watched in feral attraction as you teased him with the tip of your tongue. You oozed confidence and sultry submission, letting your doe eyes do the talking.

The lines between the act and reality truly blurred.

The way he touched you felt too real, too right. You craved more than just the teasing.

As if in an answer, Leon's hands migrated lower and lower down your abdomen. Finally, working to where you craved most. But, he couldn't find the proof of how good he made you feel. Your soaking wet underwear would be damning to your case.

In a desperate attempt, you arched your back, attempting to pull yourself away from his wandering touch. In turn, you could feel the unmistakable hardness in his pants pressing against your back.

Oh, he wanted you too. At this stage, you both should just be condemned.

The on-lookers watched from below as you pressed into Leon's length. You ground yourself against him. Your skin glowed with sweat, and strands of hair were falling from your updo and swept around your face.

There were no secrets in the way you felt; you practically radiated sex, intimacy, and everything in between.

One of Leon's hands dragged up your body and grasped your ribcage directly under your breast. The other rested on your collarbones. He pulled your ear to his lips and whispered, "Don't let it go to your head."

You swallowed, heart racing. "What?"

Leon's arrogant grin now pressed against your ear. "That every man in this room is imagining themselves in my place. Don't forget that you belong to me, darling."

"I would never-" You were cut short by Leon's grip tightening around your abdomen.

"Don't patronize me," he demanded, but his white-knuckle grip loosened and transformed into apologetic strokes down your side.

"Yes, my lord." Sweet and submissive.

The King seemed to approve, as marked by an appraising nod he shared with Leon.

A servant walked by, head hung low, and Leon's voice cracked like thunder. "Wine, now." Pure demand in his voice.

You drank the seemingly bottomless glasses of wine Leon ordered. You should have stopped, but you drank on to avoid any unfavorable conversations.

Tonight, you learned that French vampires love to drink.

The night grew late-- You, Leon, and the other Lords were drunker than sailors. Conversations of importance were divulged into off-topic chit-chat and banter. The people below slow-danced to the soft ballads that hummed through the castle.

It was a struggle to stay awake. All the wine, the music, the expectations, the teasing. It tired you out. Your head lay in Leon's chest, soaking up his sent-- Open sky and rugged woods. Your dainty hands gracefully stroked his exposed chest, painting little circles, occasionally your hands reached up to play with his pretty blonde hair. Leon languidly stroked your arm, head resting lazily to the side.

Leon sat up, shifting you with him, and cleared his throat, "My king, It's been a pleasure, but we should head back now."

"Why don't you just say the night? I would hate to see your poor madame walk all the way back to your... Maison, this late."

You and Leon exchanged a look; you weren't exactly sure if he had accounted for this in his plan. Your eyebrows threaded together, a look of annoyance and confusion, but Leon quickly turned away.

"What a hospitable offer, your highness." He responded eloquently. He knew that someone who was actually in his place would never reject an offer like that.

"It's the least I can do for you, Lord Kennedy; after all, you've been so dedicated to our cause." A sly villain-like smirk formed on the King's lips.

Leon politely bowed his head in acknowledgment.

The King snapped his fingers, and without an exchange of words, a servant was at the throne you and Leon shared.

You both stood up and followed her, hand in hand.

You passed by the other Lords still seated along the dais. Their prowling eyes raked your body as you walked by. Leon was right; you were in everyone's minds. Stripped bare and doing unspeakable things to them.

It repulsed you to be thirsted over by depraved vampire lords, but in some sacrilegious facet of your mind, you were flattered by it. You even walked in a way that accentuated your hips, teasing them just a little more.

You were just passing the King's throne when suddenly someone grabbed your arm. It was the King who had implored his icy hand around your arm, pulling you into him. You gasped as he bent you over the armrest of his throne and placed a kiss on your cheek. "Bonne nuit, ma chérie" He whispered in your ear.

He activated your desire to fight back; you wanted to place your hands around the scrawny King's neck and kill him right there. You could without any resistance, too.

But, you suppressed your urge. Sweet and submissive, you told yourself. You already got yourself in enough trouble with your previous stunt, best not to ruin it now.

"Goodnight, your Highness," you muttered back as dainty and feminine as you could manage.

The King released you, and as you took a step back, you were in Leon's chest; his arms were quick to wrap around you, like a knight in shining armor waiting for his princess.

As you left the dais, the people of the ballroom once again stopped dancing, and bowed as you and Leon walked through, escorted by the servant.

She showed you to your room, opened the door, bowed, and left promptly.

The room was entirely white and gold, similar in design to the rest of the castle, but featuring a giant bed in the middle of the room with a canopy of pooling gauzy fabric.

"What are we supposed to do now?" you whispered once the door was closed behind you.

Leon rubbed the temples of his forehead as if he had a headache, "I'm not sure. I didn't expect him to want us to stay the night."

You looked around the room, unsure of what to do now. "Should we escape?"

Leon peaked his head out the window, surveying the area, "That's an option, but risky," he muttered. "It would blow our cover when they inevitably found us gone. The plan was to kill the nobility a few days from now, on the full moon. That's when they're planning on turning one of the human lords immortal."

"Why does it have to be then? Can't it just be now? They're all drunk and lounging around, for God's sake!" You accidentally raised your voice, and Leon shushed you by pressing his finger to your lips.

"When they turn someone immortal, they have to use the parasite... The plan is to steal the parasite during the ceremony and then kill them. We need to bring it back to America so it can be studied.

But, I haven't been able to find where they store them; as far as I'm aware, only the King knows. That's why I've been waiting for the ceremony."

"So... We stay?" you said defeatedly.

"Unfortunately."

You looked around the room, rummaging through the wardrobe and the various drawers throughout. Everything was empty except for the Holy Bible in a desk drawer.

"You can have the bed, I'll take the couch." Leon offered kicking off his boots before sitting on the small white and gold couch.

"That couch is so small, you can have the bed." You tried to negotiate.

"No, no, it's all yours. I've slept on much worse than this." He said, stretching his legs out along the couch. It was too short for him, so his feet dangled off the armrest.

You sighed; there's no point in arguing.

"Well, I can't sleep in this dress. It weighs about 20lbs, and it's too damn hot."

"There was no spare clothes?" Leon asked.

"Nope."

Leon looked around the room, eyebrows stitched together in thought, before he resolved, "You can have my shirt."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, It's no trouble at all, really."

Leon remained where he was on the couch, eyes closed.

You stood on the other side of the room, fumbling with the corseting on your dress, unable to unlace it. "How the hell did I even get this on earlier?" you mumbled to yourself.

Leon's eyes perked open, watching you struggle. He cleared his throat, "Do you need help with that?"

You didn't answer but still struggled.

Leon took it upon himself to help you. He walked over and began unlacing the many rows of tight lacing along the back of your dress.

"Thank you," you said so very quietly.

"I wanted to apologize for earlier, I—"

You cut him off, "Don't—You don't have to apologize. I understand, truly."

Silence loomed over the room, and only the sound of fabric rustling filled the void. You tried to find the right words to say, but you came up empty-handed.

Leon reached the last eyelet, and you held the gown at the bust so it wouldn't fall off. Although you admittedly wouldn't mind if it did.

Your back was entirely exposed to him, only inches away from pressing against his chest. Your mind slipped— what if you took a step back? Let him do what you want him to do. Let him explore your body even more than he did earlier.

His strong hands could surely do a lot, and his pretty blonde hair would look great between your legs—

God damn.

Leon broke your silent daydream by taking off his white-ruffled shirt. He handed it off to you at your side, gentlemen-like.

He meandered back to the couch, resuming his position of outstretched legs along the cushions, closing his eyes.

You checked over your shoulder to ensure his eyes were closed, and then you let your dress fall to the ground.

You dawned Leon's shirt. The cottony fabric felt soft against your skin and smelled overwhelming like him, rugged and masculine.

In the mirror, you watched yourself let down your updo, letting your hair fall and combing it out with your fingers. Here is where you noticed that Leon's shirt is just a little too sheer.

The outline of your silhouette was vaguely noticeable through his airy shirt, but your nipples were definitely visible.

Oh well.

You folded up the gown and placed it at the foot of the bed atop the quilted velvet ottoman. You were about to get into bed before peaking one more glance at Leon.

He was statuesque in the way his body stretched along the couch. He had a hand atop his very defined abs, and his other arm dangled off the couch.

The faint blueish hue of the moon illuminated him in gentle light, it was the only light in the room, save for the single lit candle next to the bed.

Leon was so pretty in the way he slept. He looked so at peace, so beautiful, and so kissable.

It pained you to not invite him to your bed; maybe in another lifetime, you would have.

But you certainly could not let him sleep without a blanket or a pillow.

You peeled off the first blanket layer of your bed, grabbed one of the many over-filled pillows, and tiptoed to where Leon rested.

Gently, you set a folded blanket on the foot of Leon's bed, causing him to open his eyes.

"What are you doing?" Leon's mumble trailed off into a yawn.

You whispered, "I don't want you to get cold, so I'm giving you some of my blankets."

Leon smiled faintly. "Oh, I see…" he trailed off and then added, "Thanks for that."

You looked pretty; your hair and makeup were a mess but in all the right ways.

Leon noticed how pretty you were. How pretty you were in his shirt, with nothing else underneath.

"I hope this is enough for you."

"Yes, it's more than enough," he reassured.

"I'm going to head to my bed then, goodnight Leon."

He didn't show it, and you would never know it, but he loved how you said his name.

"Goodnight to you, too."

In that moment, time stood still. You couldn't walk away. You wanted to bask in the shared space of each other's gazes, bound by lust. Leon, too, made no attempt to break away.

You'll probably regret it later, but there is no harm in trying, right?

Instead of leaving, you bent down as if to pick something up, but you stopped when you reached his ear.

"Leon..." You whispered quietly.

"Yes?"

Your heartbeat raced so fast it felt like it was gonna jump out of your chest. "Do you really want me to go?"

Leon paused, raking his mind for the correct answer. "No."

He turned his head, pressing his forehead to yours, and resting his hand on the back of your neck, running his fingers through your hair.

"I didn't want to either," you said breathily.

He smiled and kissed you. The first real kiss you shared. It felt like a wave of warmth crashing down your body, every one of your instincts telling you yes. His lips were soft and gentle against your own.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," Leon whispered into the kiss.

You replied, "Me neither."

Leon pulled you by your waist, sitting you on top of him, and deepened the kiss by grazing his tongue against yours. He tasted purely of wine.

Your hands ran desperately through Leon's hair as his hands caressed your ribcage down to your hips. His grasp settled onto your waist, stroking his thumbs along your ribs. You playfully bit his lip, praising the way he touched you.

Leon's lips broke away from yours, and they began to press small kisses down your cheek, and then your neck, and then your chest. Every single one felt like pure ecstasy against your skin.

Your arms wrapped around Leon's neck as you arched your back, pressing your chest deeper into his kiss. His grasp along your waist tightened with your movement.

He was aching and so hard in the confined trousers he still wore; Leon rocked you against himself while he made out with your chest.

You moaned with gasping breaths at the feeling of him rutting into you, your head falling back carelessly.

Leon's hand met the spots he kissed, dancing along the wet skin of your chest. His wandering fingers teased the outer edge of the shirt you wore, wanting to pull it down. His lips followed down the V of the shirt, But before he could do anything more, you raised your arms, slipping the shirt over your head.

You were entirely exposed to him, save for your underwear. Leon thanked you by pressing kisses along your pretty breasts, thumbs twirling around your hardened nipples. His lips met where his thumbs danced, puckering his lips around your nipples, stroking and sucking them with his tongue.

You gasped, nearly at the edge of becoming undone. Leon worshipped your breasts like his own personal deity, letting out low, strained moans.

You lost all sense of control, grinding yourself into Leon's bulging lap, getting off at the sensation of his cock twitching for you.

"More," You moaned as Leon released the suck on your nipple with a wet-sounding smack.

You pressed down on Leon's chest, pushing him into the couch.

God, you looked so lovely and desperate from Leon's perspective.

Your hands slipped between your legs, resting on the bulge that strained between them. You caressed him through the fabric, teasing him with a pouty smirk.

Leon's mouth gaped slightly, sucking in a breath as he watched you adore him. You nimbly unbuttoned his pants, pulling down the zipper.

Leon sat up and pushed you back so your legs wrapped around his waist. He stood up, picking you up with ease, and walked you to the bed, gently resting you onto the fortress of overstuffed pillows.

He took off his trousers before joining you, his protruding cock making a tent in his underwear.

"You're beautiful," Leon fawned at your figure before bending down to kiss your thighs. "I loved touching your legs earlier, darling," he added.

You're fully melting at his sugar-covered affections.

You sat up, taking Leon's head in your delicate hands with a devouring kiss. You pulled him back, so he laid on top of you. One of his arms embraced you, and the other brushed between your legs.

His fingers toyed with you, sweetly caressing you through your soaked underwear. You moaned into the kiss as Leon began tracing small circles over the fabric. His hands then nuzzled beneath your underwear, meeting your aching sex fully.

His calloused fingers lapped your cunt, but ended on your clit, circling it gently. You broke from his kiss, head arching back from the intensity of pleasure you felt. Leon licked his lips as he watched you fold under him. Leon tugged off your underwear, deepening your pleasure as he rubbed his fingers around your opening.

Your hands, in desperate need of touch, caressed the expanse of Leon's amazingly defined torso. It alone killed you, the sheer strength he possessed. He was trained into a lethal weapon, but man, did he feel so good.

From Leon's torso, you ventured lower, tugging at the waistband of his underwear. Leon's gaze met your begging doe eyes, pleading him for more.

With your help, he pulled off his underwear, releasing his pretty, throbbing cock. Your hand softly wrapped around his length, petting him slowly. Leon's breath hitched as you did so.

You wrapped a leg around Leon's waist, pulling yourself up to straddle him. Perched on his lap, you rested your soaking cunt onto the length of his cock. Leon's hands dug into your hips, grinding his himself against your folds.

"Leon," you gasped, soaking in the feeling of him beneath you.

He moaned, hungrily watching the way your bodies met.

He sat up, pressing his chest against your stomach, and pressed kisses along your breasts. As he did so, he lifted you up by the waist, giving himself just enough space to push his length into you.

Loudly, you whimpered as his length filled your entire cunt. You bounced yourself on Leon as he sucked your nipples.

Leon released you from his mouth, lying back down, fingers digging into your upper thighs as he fucked himself into you hard. Letting his entire length fill you up before pulling back.

You couldn't help your hopeless cries and moans as his pace picked up, fucking you like the world depended on it. Maybe it did.

You were a few forceful pumps away from reaching your peak, and as you forced yourself into him even deeper, Leon lifted you up by the waist, off of him.

Dazed, you whined, "Why."

He only responded by nudging you over onto your hands and knees, spreading your legs wide for himself.

Leon's cock pressed at your entrance while his hand toyed with your clit, teasing you. He so very slowly pushed himself in, making you feel every inch of his length as he entered you.

"Just like that," he hushed under a moan and then rammed his cock into you, building up speed, fucking you faster and faster.

Your nails dug into the bed sheets, reaching for something that does not exist. Leon smacked your ass with a deep moan as his tip reached even deeper inside of you.

The only noise filling the room was the sound of your skin clapping against his and your shared feverish moans.

"You feel so good," you cooed, pawing at the sheets. "I don't think I can last much longer."

He slowed down his pace, pulling his cock almost entirely out of you before inching himself back in. "You can last just a little longer for me, pretty girl."

"Okay, yes, please just fuck me harder," you pleaded. Grinding yourself on his length, desperate for more than he was giving.

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Leon groaned and fucked you so hard that the bed was shaking back and forth. His arm reached up from behind, grasping your neck in his hand. He was hunched over you, fingers squeezing your jaw as he plunged deeper and faster.

His teeth were clenched, and his breath was fast as he burrowed his throbbing cock so far into your cunt that you came completely undone, crying his name as you rode your climax out.

"Leon, Leon, Leon," you cried as your wetness dripped down his leg.

Leon's breath seized as he pulled himself out of you, resting his cock on the small of your back, spilling hot all over your skin.

His grasp loosened, trailing down your neck. His head rested on your back, reeling himself back from his climax.

You rested your body, splaying yourself along the bed. Leon got off of you and frantically looked around the room for something to wipe your back with. He settled on the blanket you had left for him on the couch, thinking to himself, their problem, not mine.

"Thanks," you giggled as he cleaned you off.

He crawled into bed, tucking into the massive billowy covers, and you did the same. You blew out the single candle next to the bedside, leaving only moonlight to douse the room.

Leon opened up his arm, beckoning you into his embrace.

You cuddled him, soaking up his scent and his warmth. All while relishing in the tingling euphoria your body felt.

"Goodnight, for real?" Leon said quietly, sleep heavy in his voice.

"Goodnight, for real, Leon." Your heavy lids shut, falling into sleep.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

You wake up on Leon's chest to a knock at the door. The morning sun singed the pounding headache induced by last night's wine-filled activities.

Leon woke up, too, wincing and rubbing his temples. He got out of bed, pulling on his underwear and pants.

Leon's hair was a disheveled mess, and the remnants of your lipstick still stained his neck and his cheek. He answered the door to one of the servants standing there.

She bowed, her thick French accent trembling. "Lord Kennedy, I apologize if I interrupted, but the king wants a word with you."

"Can you show me to the bath first? You can't seriously expect me to talk to him looking like this?" he sounded harsh, and you almost forgot about the character he had to play.

Her voice trembled. "Yes, of course, sir. Not that you look bad, but yes, I'll show you to the bath."

"And her too," the servant peaked her head through the doorway, under the arm that Leon propped himself up with, and saw you, sitting up in bed, covering your naked body with the duvet.

She immediately ducked back in line, "Yes, of course." she bowed her head once more.

Leon tossed you his shirt, which was lying on the ground beside the couch. Quickly put it on, and with a motion of his hand, Leon summoned you to him.

You acted shy, meekly hiding behind Leon.

"Follow me, My lord," The servant hushed, trailing you two down the hallway.

As you tiptoed down the hall, you were barefoot and more exposed than you cared to be. It felt slightly embarrassing, but there was no point in caring now, was there? At least you found amusement in a shirtless Leon.

The servant guided Leon to a bathroom for himself. She signaled him in with her hand while her head was low.

Before he entered, he added, looking down at the servant. "And get her a new dress, she can't go out looking like that... And she wouldn't be caught dead wearing her evening dress during the day, would she?" Leon sounded like an absolute asshole, but that was somehow amusing.

"Yes, my lord," She bowed for the 100th time.

He entered the bathing room, closing the door behind him, and the servant showed you to another bathroom.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

You bathed in a massive clawfoot tub, sweet floral soap washing off all the makeup and memories of last night.

You were not sure how to even feel about last night. You'd never slept with a coworker before; you barely sleep with anyone anymore. Is this going to make things awkward when you leave? Or are you to pretend nothing happened at all?

A servant knocked on the door, interrupting your silent pondering before letting herself in. She quietly hung a pretty cream-colored Victorian gown hanging behind the door.

"Madame, Lord Kennedy is speaking with the King. He has asked you to wait while they finish up. We prepared breakfast for you in the dining room in case they go long. When you're ready, the dining room is down the stairs and to the left."

Who are you kidding, there are more pressing issues ahead; you're bathing and being fed in a vampire cult's castle for God's sake.

"Thank you," you said sweetly.

The servant promptly left the bathroom with a bow.

Soon, you will eliminate these vile creatures and leave. You just have to tough it out a little longer. One more day of acting like a mild-tempered little plaything, and this will all be over.

part two coming soon xx

#thank you for reading <3 #i've been so nervous to post this eek #i hope you like it #academy fics✨#throne of his own #leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon resident evil #leon kennedy fanfic

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waitingonher · 1 year

Text

dating percy jackson

pairing: percy jackson x gn! reader

content warning: kissing & couple-ly things

word count: 2,144

author's note: first post on this account!! if any of this sounds familiar, it's cuz i used to have an account but i deleted it cuz i wanted to redo it or smth…LOL 😭😭 but requests are open and i'll be coming out with more original work. enjoy!!

dating percy jackson would be like dating your best friend who you kiss and cuddle with occasionally.

percy’s not a very high maintenance kind of guy, so dating him would be more chill and relaxed. despite this, he’s still so, so incredibly sweet and cares about you so much.

even if he’s very oblivious sometimes…he’s still a sweetheart!

he’ll do absolutely everything in his power to ensure that you’re safe and alright.

going on quests with him can lowkey get annoying sometimes because he’s always trying to protect you.

but don’t get me wrong, he knows for a fact that you can definitely handle yourself, but he��s been through so much and the last thing he wants is you becoming injured or worse!!

his protectiveness comes from a very genuine place, and you know that, but you sometimes like to tease him about it.

your boyfriend suspiciously eyes the cave you’re supposed to inspect for your current quest, “y/n…” he pauses, turning to look at you, “are you 100 percent sure you’re gonna be okay all alone in there? i don’t like how quiet everything is.”

you quirk an eyebrow at him, “percy, you’ve asked me this so many times that now i’m starting to think you’re doubting me and my abilities.”

his eyes widen as he gives you a look of panic, “wait y/n no, i swear i didn’t mean it like that, i was just-”

you put your arms around his neck, “babe, i’m teasing. i know you wouldn’t do that,” you say, chuckling at his reaction.

percy rolls his eyes at you and places his hands on your waist, pulling you in for a kiss, “you’re the worst.”

“i know,” you respond, laughing at your boyfriend.

if you’re going on a quest without him though…expect him to be 100x more worried about you.

part of him wants to sneak out of camp to join you, but he knows that you’re more than capable of handling a quest without him.

all he can do is just make sure you’re prepared.

nothing, and i mean nothing will be forgotten as long as you have percy.

the night before you leave, he’ll ask you to sneak over to his cabin so he could spend as much time with you as possible.

percy claims it’ll be “a night full of relaxation before your big quest,” but with the way he’s bombarding you with questions regarding your preparedness, you don’t think you’re going to be in for a very relaxing night.

after taking a sip of your tea, you peer over at your boyfriend who opens his mouth to say something, “okay-”

“love, if you’re going to ask me if i have everything, then the answer is yes,” you utter, leaning in to fix the crooked sheet mask on his face.

percy chuckles, “how’d you know that’s what i was gonna say?”

“maybe it’s because you’ve been asking me that ever since i got here.”

he smiles sheepishly, “oh…right.”

and when you leave in the morning he’s asking you again if you have everything?? as if your supplies somehow vanished as you guys slept the previous night…

iris messages are also a HUGE thing between you guys.

whether the two of you are away at school, or on a quest without each other, iris messages would be made at every single opportunity.

cabin sleepovers are a regular for you and percy!

you guys try to have them every couple of weeks and it’s actually a mystery as to how you haven’t been caught yet.

you’ve definitely curated many funny stories of how you’d almost been discovered by a harpy.

percy prefers that you come over to his cabin instead of him going to yours.

this may or may not be due to that one incredibly embarrassing moment where a few of your siblings caught you guys kissing in your cabin’s bathroom… (you and percy were teased for a solid week after that incident)

it’s safe to say that your boyfriend’s cabin has been the location of all your sleepovers since then.

you and percy DEFINITELY come up with a really intricate handshake.

it’s the type of handshake that takes more than thirty seconds to complete and consumed most of your free time while you two were memorizing it.

“percy, i love you, but i swear to the gods, if you mess this up again…”

“um…sorry y/n, but does my leg move this way or that way?”

but once you and him had the routine down, your friends and other couples around camp were SO annoyed with you guys!

looking back on it, you two lowkey feel bad for making them watch you guys perform your handshake for minutes on end.

but what can you say? it’s just too good to not show off.

you glance up from your interlocked hands with percy and turn your head to face your friends, “okay, are you guys sure you’re looking?”

annabeth nods tiredly, “yes y/n…we’ve all been watching for the past ten minutes.”

“guys, i swear this is the last time we’ll do it and then you guys can go to bed,” percy announces to the group.

your friends all collectively let out a groan at the thought of sitting through yet another round of your guys’ handshake.

you overhear percy talking to one of his friends at the campfire, “okay sure, she might’ve written a song dedicated to you, but did you two create a thirty second long handshake that took literal weeks to memorize? that’s right. i didn’t think so dude.”

dates are kinda limited at camp, but you guys make do with what you have!

beach/lake dates are a total must for you and him.

if you’re not completely confident in your swimming skills, then he’ll take it as an opportunity to teach you!

but if you are a competent swimmer, expect tons and tons of competitions.

whether it be races across the lake or seeing who can hold their breath the longest, you guys have done it all.

percy then has the audacity to be surprised when he wins every single time…as if he isn’t a son of poseidon??

one of your favorite dates of all time was when you and percy went strawberry picking! after picking them, you two attempted to make your own homemade strawberry jam. and to your amazement, it actually turned out okay?? :O

all your friends were pleasantly surprised to hear that no one had burned the kitchen down.

he also loves to participate in any activities or hobbies that you’re into.

on his own time, percy would try to research or ask your siblings/friends about your hobbies! (he doesn’t want you to find out though)

he wants to learn more because he genuinely finds them interesting and wants to understand all the terms and definitions of the things you talk about.

but the biggest reason why percy does it, is so he can see your reaction when you talk to him about the subject and he actually responds with an educated answer on the matter instead of his usual head nods! the way your eyes widen and your lips pull back to display the beautiful grin that he’s grown to love so dearly!! it’s like he’s fallen in love all over again.

once he sees the way you’re smiling at him, he thinks that he wouldn’t mind spending a few more hours in the library.

percy loves that you show genuine enthusiasm when it comes to his passions and hobbies, so it’s a given that he wants to make you feel the same way.

if he could, percy could honestly spend all day listening to you talk about your passions. it’s just something in the way your eyes light up that has him utterly hooked.

percy looks at you with such adoration that sometimes you think he’s bored of your rambling.

“ugh, i just love it when-” you gaze down at your boyfriend who has his head resting on your lap. you notice that he’s staring at you, “oh sorry percy, i didn’t mean to bore you.”

he shoots up out of your lap and looks at you, absolutely dumbfounded, “bored?”

you nod.

“babe, how could i ever be bored of you?” your boyfriend questions with such certainty, as if it were a genuine mystery he wants to know the answer to.

you give him a shy smile, “i dunno, it’s just you weren’t responding so i thought you got tired of me talking.“

percy smiles sheepishly, “sorry, i just didn’t wanna interrupt you, you looked so happy. and trust me, y/n, i’d listen to you talk all day long if i could.”

you chuckle at his reassurance and lean in for a chaste kiss, “okay weirdo.”

you guys are that one couple who literally can communicate solely through eye contact.

someone’s acting stupid in public? you look at percy and he looks at you. next thing you know, the both of you are stifling your laughter.

on a quest and something feels off? one swift glance at each other and you immediately know what your next plan of action is.

sometimes it does get annoying though. because now you’re in the middle of a serious camp meeting, tearing up while attempting to hold in the loud cackle you’re both about to let out.

all because you looked at each other at the wrong moment.

#telapathicconnection

percy also loves it when you wear his clothes!

especially when it’s a jacket or hoodie of his. it’s more personal to percy because it’s not just any other camp half-blood shirt that everyone has.

he just feels so prideful knowing that it’s you walking around in his clothes. he just goes wild at the sight of you in them. to him, it’s a very effective way of telling everyone that you guys are dating. percy wants the world to know that you’re his and his only!

one thing about percy is that no matter what, he’ll always make time for you.

oh you’re not feeling well? he’s dropping whatever he’s doing to go see you. you need someone to talk to? he won’t leave you feeling upset, so he’ll create an excuse to leave the sparring arena.

you obviously do the same for your boyfriend, but you think it’s endearing how he’s so dedicated to you and will do absolutely anything to be there for you.

when it comes to pda, he doesn’t really mind. his favorite form of pda is hand holding! whether you’re holding hands, linking pinkies, or linking arms, he just loves to show you off while walking about the camp grounds. in general, he just prefers to be touching you in some sort of way.

at the campfire, he likes to have your hand in his lap so he can play with your fingers. (or your rings/bracelets if you do wear them!)

when you’re in bed, he likes to wrap his arm around your waist. but if you’re not big on cuddling, percy makes sure that his leg is touching your leg, or that he’s at least holding your hand. the list goes on but it’s just his way of telling you that he’s there, by your side!!

you guys also most definitely have a polaroid camera. one christmas, you gifted him a dark blue polaroid and ever since then, it’s just been nonstop photos of one another. because of the fact that phones aren’t allowed, this is the next best thing to capture memories.

percy can’t even name how many photos he has of you in his nightstand, there’s a lot. so many to the point that he uses an old shoe box of his to hold them all.

but his absolute favorite photo (he keeps this one in his wallet) is a photo of you two sitting on the edge of the pier at the canoe lake. it was taken just after training, sweat drips down both of your temples, and your guys’ cheeks are flushed red. percy is holding the camera with his right hand while he has his left hand wrapped around your shoulders, both of you leaning into each other. and the sun is setting, shades of purples and oranges swirling together to create a gorgeous backdrop for the photo. you two are both smiling, eyes scrunched tightly (partially due to the sun) and teeth wide on display.

he just thoroughly adores your smile.

percy thinks you’re the prettiest person he’s ever seen. especially when you smile like that. and to think that’s how happy he makes you?? he could die happily with no regrets.

all in all, percy jackson is such an amazing boyfriend who loves you with all of his being. 10/10 would definitely date again!!

#percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #percy jackson x y/n #pjo x reader #hoo x reader #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson fic #percy jackson fandom #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus

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slut4thebroken · 8 months

Text

Partners

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jackson Rippner x assassin!reader

Summary | You and Jackson are paired together on an assignment. The job in question? Pose as a couple in a bdsm club and lure your target somewhere more private.

Warnings | Sexual content, 18+, smut, humiliation, public humiliation, voyerism, exhibitionism, praise, degradation, objectification, face fucking, deep throating, girl on girl kissing💅🏻, grinding, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, breeding, choking, spitting, ?, lol.

Words | 7k

Notes | Somehow I wrote this in like one day lol but I kinda love it.

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

If there’s one thing you hate, it’s working with a partner. You’re perfectly capable doing a job on your own, but your employer said you could either work with someone or be fired. Fired means dead— he can’t have people who know what you know, not working for him— so obviously you chose the former.

Your assignment this time was simple; retrieve his phone, leave him alive. What made it difficult were the amount of guards he had on him 24/7 and his major trust issues. You couldn’t just walk up to him and start flirting— he’d get too suspicious. Which is where your partner came in.

The target regularly attends a bdsm club and you don't know how your employer knows this, but when he’s there, he only goes to one of the private rooms if it’s with a pair, not just one person. Which unfortunately meant that you have to play submissive with a man you met only a few hours ago— and not just any man. After your brief amount of time together, it didn’t take long for you to completely hate him. He was cocky and unnervingly charming, but had an undertone of misogyny to him— that much was obvious in the way that he undermined your work. But it was this, or death. So you had to put up with him.

“What should I call you?” He asked, standing in front of the mirror as he adjusted his tie. You were sitting on the bed, buckling the straps of your outrageously high heels.

“My name?” You said, as if you were talking to a child who just asked a stupid question. He paused and turned to you.

“No sub goes to a bdsm club with a dom and is called by their real name. Should I choose for you?” He condescended, making you clench your jaw. Should you just come up with a name you don’t actually use or like? You probably won’t be able to get in character as easily though.

“Princess I guess.”

“Great.” He said dryly, making you roll your eyes. “You can just call me sir.”

“Great.” You repeated, in the same tone as him.

The drive was awkward. Neither if you talked unless it was about the mission, but both of you already knew what to do. You arrived before the target, so you took the time to get a feel for the place and get into character. While this isn’t your first time in a place like this, you haven’t been often and it still makes you blush. He led you over to a quiet corner, then sat down. When you started doing the same, he stopped you.

“Kneel on the ground.” He explained, making you clench your jaw, but obey. You know what kind of partnership the target prefers. You have to just swallow your pride and do this with a stranger who already infuriates you after only a few hours together. You dropped to your knees next to him, trying to adjust your skirt so it wouldn’t show anything, but it was useless. It didn’t even cover your ass when you were standing, let alone sitting. You were just glad you were wearing underwear. The top wasn’t much better— your breasts were spilling out of it and it was short enough to barely be classified as a crop top. It was basically just a skimpy bra. The collar weighed heavy around your neck and while this wasn’t your first time wearing one, you’re usually in a deeper headspace and with someone you actually like while wearing it. Right now it was just a constant reminder of the demeaning position your boss put you in. You turned over your shoulder to look at the door, but he stopped you.

“Look at me or your lap. I’ll tell you when he’s here.”

“We’re just going to sit here until then?” That would be even more suspicious.

“No. We have to already be doing something when he walks in.”

“No shit. Like what, genius?” You spat, growing nervous when his lips twisted up into a smirk.

“Grind on my foot.” He said, extending his leg. You gaped at him, too caught off guard to figure out what to say.

“What? I'm not— No!”

“Princess,” he warned, leaning forward to grab your cheeks in his hand, “if you want to live through this and not be killed by the target or your boss, you’ll do what I say.” He said lowly, making you swallow down a moan.

“Fuck— fuck, fine.” You hissed and he let go of your face, letting you position yourself over his shoe. You let out a heavy breath through your nose and clenched your jaw, not able to look at him as you lowered yourself down until your clothed heat met the smooth leather.

You started out slow, tentative, your arms moving around awkwardly, not sure where to put them.

“Hands behind your back.” He said, making you look up at him. Your hands moved behind your back without hesitation and you internally groaned at the fact that you’re already slipping into that headspace.

“Good girl, just like that.” He cooed mockingly, making you glare at him.

“Shut the fuck up.” You spat, even though his words added to your unwanted arousal.

“Careful, princess. Anyone could be listening.” He smirked, flexing his foot up, making you gasp as your hips bucked toward the pressure. He didn’t keep his eyes on you for long, wanting to instead scan the crowd and keep an eye out for the target.

“I don’t like this, Jackson,”

“Try again.” You just gritted your teeth and rolled your eyes, not wanting to call him that unless you absolutely have to.

“I don’t trust you, I want to be able to see.” You finished.

“Your options are this or sitting on my lap, but I’ll have to touch you another way to keep up appearances.” Fuck. Is being able to see the room really worth him touching you like that? He’s probably going to need to do so eventually, though…

“Fine.” You said, standing up. “Over my clothes.” You turned around and sat on his lap, feeling slightly less tense now.

“Clothes?” He scoffed, making your cheeks flush.

“Shut up.” You hissed. His hands suddenly settled on your thighs and your breath caught in your throat. He teased you, dragging them up and down, barely brushing the bottom of your skirt. He placed a hand on your chest— your cleavage— and you were about to say something, but he just pulled you back so you were leaning against his chest.

“Open your legs.” He whispered against your ear, making your shiver.

“I don’t exactly want to give the entire room a view up my skirt.”

“Sweetheart.. they’re going to get much more than that soon enough. Might as well just rip the bandaid off.” You gritted your teeth at the pet name, but still did what he said. “Good girl.” One of his hands started drifting higher, pushing under your skirt until he brushed your core, making you bite down on your lip to contain any sounds.

“You think I want this too? I didn’t exactly picture my next job being spent feeling up a whore assassin in the middle of a bdsm club.”

“Fuck you, Jackson.” You spat and he reeled his hand back then brought it down just as fast, making you jolt as a quiet whimper escaped you.

“What did I fucking say?” He growled, roughly cupping your cunt over the lace.

“Fuck you, sir.” You said viciously, but the breathiness in your voice took away some of the bite. “You think I wanted to spend my next job getting felt up by some ammatuer?” His other hand shot up to grab your neck and roughly pull your head back against his shoulder as he squeezed.

“If I were in your position, I wouldn’t speak like that.” He hissed. You grabbed the arm of the hand on your neck, clawing at it to get him to let go. “Now, how about you shut the fuck up and be a good little girl, like your employer told you to be, and stop drawing attention to us, hm?” You were suddenly hyper aware of the few pairs of eyes that were now watching you. Your hands went lax and dropped to your sides, making his grip loosen slightly. The hand on your cunt was moving more purposefully now, rubbing your clit slowly as your eyes fell shut and you squirmed, trying to ignore the fact that you were being watched and this was a stranger rubbing your clit right now.

“I have to know your secret. What did you say to her?” A man suddenly asked and you opened your eyes to find him and a woman standing in front of you. “My girl likes being a brat but it usually takes longer to get her to submit, isn’t that right, pet?”

“Just helping you practice your authority, sir.” She said sweetly and if you weren’t in your current predicament, you would’ve laughed.

“Oh you know, the usual threats.” Jackson chuckled with a shrug.

“C’mon, you gotta help me out— look at her! Only seconds ago she was acting out.” Jackson laughed quietly behind you and you wondered how he was going to play this.

“I got lucky— she’s a cock hungry little whore. All I gotta do is just threaten to not give it to her and she fixes her attitude almost instantly.” He said proudly, making you blush as you whined and turned your head. “She gets a little shy. This is our first time here and she’s not used to so many people.” He explained and the man hummed in understanding.

“Well, welcome. I’m Nick.”

“Jackson. I hope it works out for you.” You could tell he was smiling through the obvious dismissal.

“Thanks. I’ll give it a try next time.” They both walked away and you let out a heavy breath as his hand slowed to a stop.

“Screw you.” You muttered, making him chuckle under his breath.

“Yeah I thought you might like that.” You took deep breaths, trying to calm down and not let your nerves consume you. “We need to do more. We stick out too much like this.” Looking around the room, you knew he was right. Everyone was either engaging in some kind of nudity and/or intense sexual act, or they were watching one.

“I know.” You sighed. “Like what?”

“You can suck me off, or if you want to keep watching the room, I can finger you.” He suggested, making your blush deepen. His hands rubbed up and down your legs as he waited for you to decide.

“Fine. You can finger me, just leave my underwear on please.” You said quietly. It was almost as if he could sense your nervousness about the situation because he didn’t respond with a mean retort or a jab at you.

“Okay.” Was all he said. One of his hands snaked up, then wasted no time slipping in your underwear and brushing through your folds. “Jesus.” He said through a breathy laugh.

“Don’t act like I’m not sitting on your fucking hard on right now.” You hissed, making him go quiet.

“Fair enough.” He pushed a finger in and your hand gripped his leg as you stiffened. He started curling it slowly and you bit your lip hard enough to draw blood. “Feel good?” He rasped and you couldn’t tell if he was making fun of you or not. You cursed under your breath and squeezed your eyes shut, trying not to completely give in to the pleasure. When he started kissing your neck, you couldn’t hold down the moan anymore.

“Fuck,” You whimpered, hips grinding against his hand.

“You like having your neck kissed?” God— it’s one of your favorite things. For some reason, the simple act never fails to get you hot and bothered and turn you into a pliant, needy mess.

“Yes, sir.” You whispered, gasping when he pushed another finger in.

“Look at that…” He cooed. “Just a few fingers and you’re already slipping. I can’t wait to see how dumb you get on my cock.” You whined, hips moving incessantly. Even though you knew he wouldn’t actually fuck you, the thought still made you dizzy. When he lightly nipped at the skin, you let out a low moan and squeezed his leg harder.

“No marks.” You whispered, despite the fact that your body was begging for the opposite.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, princess.” He mumbled sarcastically. You let your eyes fall shut and rested the full weight of your head on his shoulder as he kept kissing the sensitive skin. He was grinding the heel of his hand against your clit as his fingers curled inside you relentlessly and you could feel your orgasm rapidly approaching.

“He’s here.” He whispered, making your eyes snap open. Sure enough, he and about five men were walking in. He walked over to a booth and waited as one of the guards spoke to the people sitting there, making them instantly scramble out of their seats for the man.

“How should we play this?” You whispered and his fingers slowed to a stop, but didn’t leave you.

“We can’t come on too strong, but we also need to do something to get his attention.”

“He won’t want it if it’s too easy though.” You added, groaning internally at what that meant you had to do. “We have to be the most desirable people here.”

“Draw a crowd.” He confirmed, removing his fingers, making you swallow down a whine.

“How do we do that?” You don’t know why you were asking him and not just deciding. Actually, that’s not true— it’s because you were already so close to entering a head space that you should not be in while working.

“Get on your knees again. I’ll be right back.” You stood up and watched him walk over to Nick who was watching someone getting spanked while his.. “pet” was working his cock over in her mouth. You kneeled, but kept your eyes on him as you waited. They both looked at you, then back at each other, now with smiles as Jackson patted the man’s shoulder. He made his way back to you as Nick started talking to a few other people.

“I’m getting a crowd.” He explained. “Just play along. I’ll keep watching our guy and tell you when he’s coming over, okay?” You nodded and he cupped your cheek, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. “Ready to put that mouth to good use?” He smirked and you swallowed thickly. His attention was drawn away from you when Nick approached, followed by a few other people, some of them crawling and being led by leashes.

“I was telling our friend here how you want to work on your “stage fright.’” He explained, putting on a show for them. “What do you think, princess? This a big enough crowd for you?” You stared up at them with wide eyes, trying not to shrink under all of their gazes.

“Yes, sir.” You said meekly.

“Atta girl. Now how about you get to it? We don’t want to keep them waiting.” You nodded and reached for his belt with shaky hands. When you finally freed his cock, you choked on a gasp at the sheer size of it. You tentatively took him in your hand and stroked slowly, getting a feel for it.

You’re no virgin, but you’ve been so busy with work for the past few months that you’ve been relying on your vibrator. So you’re a little out of practice and his size isn’t helping much. He placed a hand on your head to pet your hair.

“You know what I want. Don’t be a tease.” He warned, making you look up at him.

“Sorry, sir. Just got distracted.” You heard the group behind you chuckle.

“What’d I say, huh, Nick? Cock hungry whore— she’s practically obsessed with it. Can’t even go a day without it.” He took in a sharp breath when you suddenly enveloped the tip in your mouth, still stroking the base. “Fuck, there you go. Give our friends a show, yeah?” You whined at the reminder that you were being watched, making his hips flinch forward. Despite his request, you kept your mouth on the head of his cock, not going much further. He suddenly grabbed your hair and yanked your head back, making you gasp and choke on a moan. He leaned down close to you and you grew nervous because of his expression.

“I didn’t invite them over to watch you do a half assed job. Either do it right, or I’ll get someone else to do it and you’ll go the rest of the night without it.” He growled, making you press your thighs together. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry.” You whimpered and he loosened his grip as he leaned back up. You kept your hand at the base, but started bobbing your head more now, taking most of his cock in your mouth.

“Wow she really is cock hungry.” Nick said, making you whine.

“It’s a blessing and a curse.” Jackson said through a breath, starting to guide your head. “Can’t get anything done if she’s around.” He chuckled, making the rest of them laugh along with him.

“Mind if I take her for a spin?” Your stomach dropped at that. Sucking off a stranger who you’ve known for a few hours is different than sucking off one you just met barely ten minutes ago.

“Maybe next time. Like I told you, this is our first time and she’s already pretty nervous.” He said and you could’ve cried in relief.

“No worries, man. My girl was the same for our first time.” Jackson was about to respond before you accidentally went down too far and gagged around him, making him moan.

“Shit— Let’s show ‘em what you can really do, yeah? Attract some more people.” You were pretty sure that meant the target wasn’t watching you yet. You hummed around him in acknowledgment and he adjusted his grip on your head, then started moving you up and down. “Hands behind your back.” You immediately released his cock and put your arms back. He sped up slightly, but was still going slow enough to let you get a feel for it. When he pulled you down, then held you there, your cunt pulsed when you realized what he wanted.

“Relax your throat, princess. Let me in.” He said through a breath. You tried to obey, but you started gagging, making it almost impossible. “She just needs a little help sometimes.” He said before roughly pulling you down until he breached your throat barrier, making you choke and sputter as he groaned. He yanked you off, then slapped you across the cheek, the suddenness of it all making you dizzy.

“If I feel your teeth again, you’re done for the night.”

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry, sir.” You rasped, then opened your mouth, waiting.

“Fuck- she really is eager.” Someone commented with a snicker.

“Oh you have no idea.” Jackson said before pushing you back down, then extending his leg so his foot was between your legs. “Go ahead, bitch. Show everyone how much you love my cock.” You whined, but had no control over your body when you started grinding on his shoe. You moaned around his length as you desperately bucked your hips, missing the stimulation you were getting from his fingers before. The tip of his cock was punching the back of your mouth with each thrust, making you gag and writhe.

Eventually he gave you a break. He pulled you off his cock then immediately forced your head between his legs, pushing your face against his balls.

“Suck.” He growled, making you obey instantly. As you worked him over in your mouth, he was letting out breathy moans and grunts that had you whining against him, wanting more. “I don’t know what you were so nervous about, baby. You seem to be fine with all the people watching you.” At first, you whined at the reminder, but then you realized that he might’ve said that to let you know the target was watching now.

“She like rimming?” Someone asked, making you panic because no, you absolutely do not like rimming. You almost pulled away to speak, but he beat you to it.

“She has to be pretty deep into subspace to get that filthy.” He said, making you relax a little. With his balls in your mouth and his cock resting on your face, you already felt pretty filthy. But it was just the right amount to make your hips move more eagerly against his shoe. He suddenly pulled you back and you looked up at him with an open mouth, waiting.

“Spit on it.” Your eyes widened at the request but you quickly gathered the saliva in your mouth and spit it on his cock. The second you finished, he was rubbing his length over your face, smearing your saliva, making you grimace. He slapped your cheek with his cock a few times before letting out a quiet chuckle.

“This filthy enough for you?” He asked, turning your head to face the audience, giving you confirmation that the target's eyes were indeed on you.

“Can I make a request?” The same man from before asked and you prayed he wouldn’t request anything that required you to get anywhere near an asshole.

“Depends on what it is.” Jackson said, playing along as he turned you back around to keep rubbing his spit soaked cock on your face.

“Let some of us spit on her too, yeah? Really get her nice and filthy.” Jackson looked down at you and you were trying to come up with a response. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Sure, you’d have to take a very thorough shower later, but at least if it was interactive, it might entice your target to join. He seemed to be thinking the same thing.

“What do you say, princess? Wanna be a good girl and let them do this?” You nodded with pink cheeks and he yanked your head back. “Use your words.”

“Yes, sir. I- I want it.” You whimpered, making him grin.

“You heard her.” He said, releasing your hair and taking a step back as he slowly stroked his cock. You turned around and the man moved forward, then looked at Jackson before doing anything.

“Can I grab her face?”

“If she agrees.”

“You can touch my face, sir.” You said quietly, staring up at him through your lashes. He looked down at you and cursed under his breath before grabbing your cheeks and leaning down a bit. You flinched when the spit hit your face, then whined when he rubbed it in.

“Fuckin’ disgusting. She likes it too, huh?” He chuckled, looking at Jackson again as he stepped back.

“Oh she loves it. I’m sure she’s making a mess all over the floor.” He replied, making your whole face turn red because it sure felt like you were making a mess all over the floor. But from Jackson, not from these other people.

Someone else stepped forward and carded his fingers through your hair before grabbing it and gently pulling your head back. His cock was out of his pants, fully erect, right in front of your face and you watched it jump when you whimpered after the man spat on you.

Nick walked forward this time, having the woman kneeling at his feet crawl forward with him.

“You have a safe word?” He asked and you nodded.

“Red.”

“Good.” He leaned down and spat on your face, this one feeling more forceful than the others, making you flinch again when it hit your face. “Now, pet, after she tells us her color, I want you to lick it off her face, understand?”

“Yes, sir.” They both turned to you expectantly and your eyes flicked over to the target for half a second before going back to them.

“Green.” You said quietly, making him beam. The woman shuffled forward and placed a hand on your thigh to steady herself as she leaned closer and slowly licked up your cheek.

“Clean it all unless she says her safe word.” He commanded and you let her lap up the spit on your face, including over your lips. Your entire face was on fire when she pulled back slightly, her breath fanning your lips.

“Ever kissed a girl before?” She asked sweetly, making your eyes widened as you choked on your spit. You shook your head, making her grin. “Do you want to?”

“I- I have to ask first.” You said through a breath, almost forgetting where you were for a moment. Your whole focus was on her— the hand on your thigh, breath on your lips, even her words were intoxicating enough to make your brain go blank.

“Go ahead then.” She smirked, pulling back a bit, making you finally feel like you could breathe. You cleared your throat, then turned around, looking up at him.

“She asked if I want to kiss her.” You said meekly.

“And do you?”

“I want what you want, sir.” It was hard to tell if you were still pretending.

“I think it’ll be a good way for you to practice feeling more comfortable in front of a crowd— might even attract some more people.” You knew that by “more people” he meant the target, so you nodded and bit your lip as you turned back around. Her smirk was still intact and she moved back toward you, placing one hand on your cheek and the other on your thigh. When she started moving forward, you closed your eyes and waited.

The kiss started out slow and tentative, but quickly grew hungrier. Her hand snaked around your neck to hold you against her as she practically devoured your mouth. You could faintly hear whistles and more talking, but it was all hard to focus on. Hands were suddenly on your shoulders and you jumped, but quickly relaxed when you heard Jackson’s voice.

“Spit on her face.” He rasped, grabbing your chin and tilting your head up once she pulled back. Her eyes flickered between you and Jackson for only another moment before she did what he said. You gasped and he gripped your cheeks tightly to keep your jaw open. “Now in her mouth.” You couldn’t hold down the moan when you felt her spit land on your tongue.

“Be a good girl and lick it up again.” Nick added and she leaned forward to lick her spit from your face, then kissed you again, forcing her tongue in your mouth, making you whimper.

“Fuck— that’s it. You’re getting quite the crowd, baby.” He said quietly, then placed a hand on your waist and squeezed to really make sure you understood that wasn’t just a normal statement. When the woman pulled back, a string of saliva connected your lips and you panted, trying to catch your breath and clear your head enough to have a coherent thought.

“Who else wants to spit on her?” Jackson asked, somewhat loudly. A few people started to agree, but quickly stopped once your target stepped forward. “I think we have another volunteer, princess.” He smirked and the woman in front of you crawled back to Nick. You looked up at him through your lashes, trying not to do anything that would accidentally blow your cover.

“She’s a pretty thing.” He said, stepping even more into your space, making you crane your head back to look at him.

“Oh yeah. Pretty, but stupid— the perfect toy.” Jackson said proudly as he stood up from where he was crouched behind you.

“I bet.” He chuckled, making you flush and avert your gaze. “I saw how eager she was with a cock in her mouth. Is she just like that with you? Or is she like that with any cock.”

“Any cock. But we weren’t going to do much more than this. It’s our first time here and she’s pretty nervous.”

“I see. That’s disappointing.” He sighed and you craned your neck around to look at Jackson.

“Permission to speak, sir?” You were really trying to play it up in front of the target.

“Yes.”

“I don’t mind. I’d just prefer going to a private room than staying out here.” You said meekly and he gave you a small smile as he pet your hair.

“You sure, princess?”

“Yes, sir. If he’s okay with going to a room.” Jackson looked at the man expectantly and he stared down at you, thinking.

“I don’t mind.” He finally said, glancing at a guard and giving him a curt nod. “Shall we?” He motioned to the hallway where the rooms are and you started to stand, but Jackson stopped you as he tucked his erection back in his pants.

“You can crawl.” He said and you flushed but dropped down to your hands and knees, following along behind them.

The door shut softly and you waited on your knees expectantly.

“How about I test that mouth, huh? See how eager she really is.” He smirked and you prayed Jackson would make a move sooner rather than later. He took his cock out of his pants, then roughly grabbed your hair, making you whimper. When he suddenly forced you all the way down, you choked and your hands shot out to push at his thighs. He suddenly released your hair and you pulled off with a cough, finding Jackson’s arm wrapped around the man’s neck, strangling him. After another minute he finally went limp and Jackson let him fall to the ground in front of you.

“You couldn’t have done that before he fucking punched my throat with his dick? That hurt.” You complained, grabbing his phone from his pocket, then standing up on sore legs.

“I needed to wait until his guard was down.” He explained and all you did was roll your eyes and start walking toward the door, but he grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“We can’t leave yet. His guards will be right outside the door and they’ll know something’s up if we leave now.” You paused, then let out a groan at the fact that he’s right.

“Fuck— fine. But I’m laying down.” You said, snatching your wrist from his hand and walked to the bed. You grabbed one of the small towels from the side table and wiped your face with a grimace as he rounded the bed and sat on the other side.

“You did a surprisingly good job.” He admitted, making you turn to him with narrowed eyes.

“Thanks.” You said, in place of ‘fuck you.’

“I just meant that I didn’t think you’d take it that far.” He defended and you calmed down a bit.

“Neither did I.” You muttered.

“You make a pretty good sub when you’re not being a stuck up bitch.” He snickered. You threw the towel at his face, then laid down, deciding to ignore him… as well as the arousal still making your cunt ache.

��If we’re going to be here a while, the least you could do is let me sleep.”

“Fine.”

“Good.” You turned away from him and closed your eyes, feeling the bed dip and clothes rustle as he laid down. When he let out a low groan, you stiffened and strained your ear. The second time, you turned over, ready to yell at him, but it died in your throat when you saw his head thrown back as he rapidly fisted his cock.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You hissed, making his lips curl up into a smirk.

“Denial isn't one of my kinks, sweetheart. At least, not for me.”

“Well— You could at least have the decency to not do it in the bed I’m trying to sleep in.” Your tone was not nearly as stern as you wanted it to be.

“My cock was literally down your throat, but you have a problem with this?” He scoffed a laugh, making your cheeks heat up. “Besides, it won’t be believable if I walk out of here rock hard.” He said, like it was obvious. “You could always help me and speed it up.” He suggested, making your mouth fall open.

“I’m good.” You spat, making him chuckle.

“Sure, princess. You keep acting like your pussy isn’t dripping down your thighs and maybe you’ll even start to believe it.” You flushed with anger, embarrassment, and arousal this time.

“Maybe it is. But if I’m gonna get someone’s help, then I’ll ask the girl who caused it.” You smirked, making him freeze.

“That’s cute.” He said sarcastically and your smirk widened.

“Maybe I’ll go get her— tell the guards he wants a foursome instead.” You moved to get up, but he roughly grabbed your hair and yanked your head back until you were laying down again, then got on top of you.

“Keep testing me. You’re not going to like where it gets you.” He warned, making your cunt throb.

“I’m not your sub, Jackson. Get that through your thick skull.” He placed a hand on your neck and squeezed, making your breath hitch.

“Maybe not. That doesn’t change the fact that you want me to fuck you.” That made you scoff.

“Please get your head out of your ass, it’s not a good look for you.”

“Sure, baby. Keep pretending I’m wrong.” He smirked. “You have a safe word. Use it.” He dared and you narrowed your eyes as you clenched your jaw.

“Fuck you.” You spat, pushing at his chest, making his grip tighten on your neck.

“Use it.”

Your gaze hardened as you stared up at him, gritting your teeth. You couldn’t make yourself say it though. You’re too curious— too eager to know where this is going.

“That’s what I fucking thought.” He spat, making you roll your eyes. He removed his hand from your neck to slap you, then immediately put it back. This slap was so much harder than the one he gave you out there and you almost whimpered at the sting on your cheek.

“Go fuck yourself.” You said lowly, watching his cheeks tense as he clenched his jaw and let out a heavy breath through his nose.

“I’m sick of your fucking attitude.” He was turning you on your stomach before you even knew what was happening. When you tried to lift yourself up, he pushed you down and held you there with a hand on the back of your head. It was harder to breathe like this, but you couldn’t even slightly care about that when he roughly pushed your skirt up over your ass, then pulled your panties down just enough to free your cunt.

The blunt tip of his cock brushed your entrance and he didn’t bother teasing you before forcing it inside, making you let out a strangled whimper at the suddenness of it all. He only stopped once his hips were flush with your ass and you gripped the sheets as you did your best to adjust to the intrusion.

“Fuck— I can’t believe such an annoying little bitch has such a good cunt.” He said through a breath. When you tried to push yourself up to curse him out, he just pushed down harder on your head, making you whimper.

He slowly dragged out until only the tip was inside, then snapped his hips forward, making you scream and try to move up the bed away from the intense feeling.

“Ah ah ah— You’re not going anywhere, bitch. I’ve waited all fucking night for this.” He continued the same pace of slowly dragging out, then roughly slamming back in and you wished he’d do something that felt better for you— not that this felt bad… there are just other things that’ll actually feel good.

He moved his hand to the back of your neck and you were able to turn your head to the side so you could actually breathe again. At a particularly rough thrust, you let out a choked moan and cried out.

“I can’t believe you think people could ever see you as a respectable assassin after this. Not when you played your part a little too well.” You squeezed your eyes shut with a whimper, trying not to let yourself believe his words. “This is probably the only kind of job you’ll get from now on. No dignity, no self respect, just a wannabe assassin being used as a whore.” You let out a choked sob, his words going straight to your cunt.

“And I’ll bet you’ll like it too. You’ll fuck anyone he tells you to, not just because it’s your job… but because you want to.”

“Jackson,” You cried and he shushed you softly.

“It’s okay, princess. You can’t help it— you were born to be a whore.”

“Fuck,” You sobbed out, “oh god, please make me come.”

“Of course you fucking like that shit.” He scoffed, making you whine.

“Please, Jackson!” He pushed down harder on your neck, making your breath catch in your throat.

“Last chance.” He said lowly.

“Please, sir! Please make me come!”

“Good girl… No.” You let out an anguished cry at the denial.

“Please!” He was fucking you brutally now, his hips smacking your ass with each thrust and his cock punching the breath out of you everytime it was forced deeper inside.

“You can fucking wait.” He hissed, voice getting more and more breathless. “Don’t you wanna be a good girl for me? Come when I tell you to?” He cooed, his tone significantly gentler now. You whined, torn between wanting your long awaited pleasure and wanting to be good for him. “I know, baby. I’m so close though, can’t you just wait a little longer?” You nodded with a whimper, watching him smile through your peripheral vision. “Atta girl.” He said proudly, making your walls flutter around his length. He let out a choked moan at the feeling, then leaned up and removed his hand from your neck to spread your ass apart for a better view of his cock stretching you. You whined loudly when he spat on your hole, adding more lubrication even though you were already doing a good enough job of that on your own.

“God- you’re so fucking easy.” He groaned. “Praise is what does it for you, huh? Just need to be told you’re a good girl and you get all dumb and pliant?” You whined loudly, burying your face in the sheets to hide your blush.

“Pathetic.” He spat, letting go of your ass to grab your hips and thrust even faster.

“Fuck— sir, please.. I don’t think I can hold it.” You whimpered, fisting the sheets and trying to will your orgasm away.

“I know, princess, it’s okay. You get a cock in that sloppy little cunt and you go all brain dead and come hungry… You poor thing.” He cooed mockingly, bringing you closer to your orgasm. “Go ahead and come, baby. You can let go now.” He said softly— a harsh contrast to his rough thrusts. When you didn’t come immediately though, he got impatient.

“Go on, needy fucking slut. Come on my cock- prove that you’re nothing more than a brainless little whore.” The knot of arousal in your stomach snapped almost violently and you sobbed out a moan when your orgasm finally crashed over you. His thrusts barely even slowed, not deterred by your walls spasming around his length.

“Jesus— fucking…” He hissed. That was the only indication you got that he was affected by this. As your orgasm finally started to fade, it was quickly replaced by a more painful pleasure when he continued.

“Sir- sir, wait,” You choked out, trying to move up the bed to get away from him. He fell over you, completely flush with your back, and kept rutting into your sore hole desperately as he chased his own orgasm. “Fuck— oh fuck, it hurts.” You whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut to try and focus on something other than the overstimulation.

“Shut the fuck up already.” He spat, moving his arm in front of your body to place a hand on your neck, squeezing hard enough to cut off any kind of sounds you tried to make. You clawed at his arm, your head starting to feel swollen and your eyes falling shut from a lack of oxygen and blood flow. “You can breathe after I fucking come.” He growled, ignoring your choking and your gasps for air.

“God- you’re so much hotter when you can’t fucking talk.” He groaned, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he focused on his impending orgasm. You were genuinely starting to worry that you’d pass out before he came, but just as your eyes grew too heavy to keep open and your hearing muffled, you could faintly hear him groaning as his hips stilled, occasionally bucking into you. He released your neck and you gasped and wheezed, heaving in large gulps of air as your head rushed with the sudden blood flow. Now that you could actually focus on other sensations, you noticed how hot your walls felt with his come inside you.

“Fuck— you didn’t use a condom.” You rasped, letting your head fall onto the bed, too tired to hold it up.

“I don’t fucking care.” He said, almost amused.

“…Me neither.” He chuckled breathlessly and rolled off of you, laying on his back. You turned your head so you were laying on your other cheek, wanting to face him. His eyes were closed and he was lightly panting, and you couldn’t help but notice how pretty he is.

“Stop staring.” He mumbled, making you smile.

“Why?”

“Because it’s creepy.” Despite his words, the corners of his lips just barely turned up into a smile.

“Do you think it’s been long enough yet?” You asked, turning on your side so your neck wasn’t bent uncomfortably anymore.

“Not even close. I’m just catching my breath before round two.” He glanced at you with a small smirk, making you roll your eyes with a blush.

#jackson rippner x reader smut #jackson rippner smut #jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner #red eye movie #red eye #cillian murphy

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gamermattsgf · 2 months

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Horror movie hot takes // Matt + Chris

Again, I’m sorry that this is not my proper writing, but don’t worry! My breeding kink oneshot is on its way, I gotchu guys ;) I’m hopefully going to be dropping it some time in the middle of the week, so this is just some light and fun reading to do until then whilst you wait - if you want of course… pls humour my stupid ideas lol.

Thank you to whoever suggested this because I’ve been dying to give u guys my breakdown. Horror is one of my FAV genres, idk why, I just love scaring myself. Also, I don’t have just one to share with u guys, but three different options each because it’s such an expansive genre with so many probable things to pick from. You guys can probably tell that I have way too much fun with these things… (Plus they’d look good in multiple different genres and I rlly wish I could add more but I don’t want these to get too long bc they’re meant to be hot takes).

Obviously, a couple of the pictures I’ve used for the visuals may be potentially triggering as they contain blood and other disturbing bits of paraphernalia, so please if you’re squeamish, proceed with caution!!

But anyways…

Matt:

First up Matt’s most likely to star in some type of rural corn maze horror. I’m thinking proper Southern gothic style, low quality, out in the sticks and with only a small population in the farming town where he resides.

I could so see the storyline following the main character who moves to this place, but very quickly gets that sinking feeling in her stomach that there’s something not right about the town, from the way the locals look at her to the way Matt speaks when she first arrives. There’s got to be that cliché plot line where something suspicious is afoot, something that she wants to unearth.

Matt’s character gives off creepy neighbour vibes, like the kind that watches the main character from behind his curtains as she unloads the moving truck. This Matt is properly country too, from the cowboy boots on his feet to his red flannel shirt and his shotgun that he randomly carries around because he’s a sheep farmer (do I envision him using his country accent, yes, yes I do).

Long story short, the rural town isn’t just a town, it’s actually a cult, and the reason the farmers rear cattle and mind sheep is so that they can conduct ritualistic sacrifices with them.

(I lowkey wish this was a movie I’d eat this kind of twisted shit up)

For his second movie I’m absolutely obsessed with the idea of putting him in a domestic psychological thriller- so proper stalking vibes. I’m thinking something like ‘You’ but almost making him a more extreme version of Joe Goldberg.

Possibly he’s maybe the main character’s co-worker, who takes the secret affection he has for her a little too far? Or even just an absolutely psychotic ex that refuses to let her go… In short this is the kind of movie that doesn’t quite give you that exhilarating rush of jump-scares, but instead tries to make you as physically uncomfortable as possible with an absolutely horrific instrumental soundtrack playing underneath it.

I’m not sure why I chose this branch of horror, but something about the way Matt looks just really did it for me, it’s so difficult to explain but his physical appearance fits the overall image of someone with an obsessive attitude towards a loved one.

Three words. Found footage horror. These kind of horror movies scare me the most because of that idea of it being ‘found footage’. Equally, ‘based on true story’ horrors also mildly unsettle me just because of that idea that it’s been reimagined from a real life event.

Matt’s found footage is giving ‘The Blair Witch Project’, I can defintely see him out in the wilderness with a bunch of his really close friends, all with camcorders in their hands as they document their time camping in the woods. Until everything goes terribly wrong. And they get lost. And are picked off one by one until Matt is the only one standing.

There is no soundtrack this time, just heavy breathing, crunching leaves underneath running footsteps, the sound of the wind in the trees and the occasional blood curdling shriek of whatever is hunting them down.

(I should seriously become a director lmaoo)

Chris:

Now onto Chris… most people often think Chris would thrive in a classic 90’s slasher flick- like ‘Scream’ or ‘Friday the 13th’ which I’m not going to argue against because he really would look great in one. It fits his overall vibe of being the jock boyfriend that is one of the first ones to die after him and his girlfriend stupidly break off from the group to ‘fool around’.

HOWEVER, I personally think that a game show gore horror is more his speed, it fits his skill set better. I feel like Chris would be really versatile in this kind of high-pressure environment and I’d honestly love to see him in a franchise like the ‘Saw’ movies (I want to hear him whimpering in pain) -WHAT…? Who said that??

This Chris is just an ordinary guy who works an ordinary but depressingly mundane job that does not come with the best pay… so what happens when he gets an ad mailed through his letter box promising money to whoever volunteers to try out this new and exciting game for a reality tv show? Well it’s simple, Chris would do anything for a dollar, so he signs up- not taking into account at all about how advertisements like this aren’t normally personally mailed to a person and that quite possibly this letter had actually been specifically targeted to people who were known to be in desperate need of some spare change.

The result? A wicked sadist trapping these poor people into machines and torturing them for his own personal gain.

(Fuck I love this idea)

This next one is a bit of a curve ball but roll with me here… a deep sea horror. Fun fact about me, I have horrible thalassophobia, and a severe fear of sharks (I know, stupid) but I can’t help it lol, they terrify me. However, still rolling with the overall cocky/jock/playboy characterisation of Chris, I could definitely picture him being some form of deep sea diving protege that’s a cave diving expert.

He’s a side character in the thriller that is called in when they need help with locating whatever monster lurks beneath the waves. Due to his speciality in the field, he’s one of the best, and co-leads a team of divers through a cave to see if they can sus out its location.

This Chris likes to wear a lot of blue things, and he’s constantly either smugly chewing on gum or is biting a toothpick within his teeth with an air of superiority about him. The soundtrack helps with the overall gritting suspense of the movie and keeps you on the edge of your seat constantly with jump-scares around every corner.

And finally, who the fuck would I be if I didn’t rope Chris into a zombie/pandemic apocalypse horror? Because this kind of movie has Chris written all over it, real TWD style. For some reason, within the whole horror genre in its entirety Chris fits the branch of gore horror the best, blood, guts and big spectacles of action packed violence. You name it, Chris looks like he could be apart of it.

In an apocalypse kind of situation, Chris would definitely be either a side character who you meet maybe about half way through the series - possibly from some other rival gang that threatens to steal your weapons - or one of the original main characters that have survived thus far. His weapon of choice is definitely either a trusty crowbar, or a classic metal baseball bat, something that he can really swing and satisfy his frenzied killing needs with.

Aesthetics wise, he wear a black bandana to keep the hair out of his face, a white tank top and army green cargo shorts. Pair them with some heavy duty black boots and you’ve got yourself a mighty attractive apocalypse survivor to spend the rest of your shortened life span with.

Author’s notes: someone needs to take my phone AND my imagination away from me immediately at this point, it’s too powerful when they’re put together. I get wayyyy too carried away with this shit lol. I have such a vivid imagination it’s insane to me, I be writing whole ass screen plays for these Jesus Christ. But anyways, I wanna see those two in a horror movie so fucking bad (if you couldn’t tell hehe). Or maybe just watch a horror movie with them… like- dw baby boy I’ll hold your hand at the scary bits hahahaha.

Again, a list of people who I think would entertain my silly little ideas: @luvmila444 @luv4kozume @luverboychris @mattestrella @mattslutt @nicksmainbitch @ellie-luvsfics @orangeypepsi @sturniolosreads @sturniolowhore @sturniolosstar @imwetforyourmom @thesturniolos @strniohoeee @rootbeerworshiper @lacysturniolo @matthemunch @1800chokedathoe @asturniolos @vecnasnose0 @meanttomeet @mattscokewhore @stursweet @breeloveschris @kvtie444 @lovingmattysposts @bernardsgf @fake-sturniolos

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolos

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cherryxblossxms · 8 months

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I saw your reblog that says your ask box is open, so I wanted to request/ask for a small fic with officer!Toji? Like you had been pushing his buttons for the last three days and he finally gets fed up and handcuffs you to the bed and uses you like a rag doll 🤤🥺🫶🏼 thanks in advance love!

Villain

Officer!Toji x reader

: ̗̀➛ A/N: hello hello! oof Toji using restraints is a very yummy idea. I don't usually take fic requests but I liked this idea, and I always enjoy some rough Toji! There's a song that makes me think of Toji which is "Villain" by Bella Poarch, so that's a bit of inspo for this! Sorry this took a bit to answer!

: ̗̀➛ Warnings: afab reader, not really an established relationship; FWB??? Enemies to lovers??? Idk, very brief mention of oral (m receiving), no protection with backshot, rough sex, doggy style, use of handcuffs, edging, spit as lube, spanking, a lil manhandling, degradation (slut, whore, princess as an insult lol), mean Toji with some sweetness at the end

: ̗̀➛ Word count: 1628

You always knew just how to push his buttons, and Toji hated you for it. Or at least, he could have hated you for it, if your pussy wasn't so damn addictive.

Toji wouldn't consider himself any particularly special or hardworking kind of cop. He did his job, he earned his paycheck, and went home. Most days, shifts were boring, with giving a ticket being the most exciting thing happening all day. If he was lucky, he got to tackle a thief to the ground. However, the excitement level changed when he met you, and like some kind of twisted fate, he seemed to be running into you more and more lately.

The first time he'd run into you, you were speeding down the street in a classic bright red Mustang, catching his radar in more ways than one. When he'd caught up to you in his car with the lights flashing, shiny badge on his chest and his scariest face on, he expected the usual sob story to try to get out of a ticket, maybe some crocodile tears and honeyed words to butter him up. But the minute you two made eye contact, some electric shock going through your bodies simultaneously, suddenly it didn't matter anymore.

Of course, the way you took his cock down your throat shortly afterwards may have helped, as well.

After that, it was almost comical albeit suspicious, the number of times you two would "meet up" after that. It was as if you knew his schedule and his route, but he wasn't complaining. Of course, his job was on the line, fucking someone that was essentially a perp, and he'd be fucked if anyone caught you two in the act. But with a cunt as sweet as yours, he was happy to take that risk.

Sometimes he'd take you in the back of his police car, or against the wall in an alley, fucking out his frustrations with you and unloading them into your cunt. But today he decided he wanted a little more privacy, taking you back to his apartment for the first time to make sure you would get the full lesson from him.

Now he had you face down and ass up, handcuffs tight around your wrists and connected to his bed frame as his hips slammed into yours. You'd been really pushing his buttons lately, simple things like jaywalking right in front of his car, stealing merchandise in clear view of him, to speeding by in your damned Mustang again. Once or twice, with little things, he was willing to look the other way. But as you kept pushing his buttons, something in him finally snapped, and he was going to teach you not to play with fire— the hard way.

"Fucking filthy little slut," he grunted out, the loud sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air. "Think you can just do whatever you want, huh? Think you can get away with anything?"

Your face was shoved into his pillow, the only thing muffling your moans and cries of pleasure. His words simply drifted over your head, too lost in the pleasure to pay attention anymore. He always filled you up so well, thick cock with an equally thick mushroom head reaching deep inside, and it never failed to draw out noises you'd never made before meeting him. And now in this position, you could feel him bump up against a particularly sensitive spot, leaving your mouth in a constant "O" as he pounded you without mercy.

You could feel your orgasm start to creep up on you, a roaring fire growing in your belly and ready to consume you whole. That rubber band of tension was ready to snap and Toji could tell, too, by the way your pussy was hugging and tightening on his cock, begging for his seed and for release. Unfortunately for you, Toji was still trying to teach you a lesson, and just as he knew that pleasurable wave was going to crash over, he pulled out, making you cry out in distress from the sudden empty feeling.

Your hole clenched around nothing, your whole groin aching for relief and begging for the stimulation to come back. But Toji simply pulled your asscheeks apart to get a better view, a dark chuckle rumbling in his throat as he started at your core unashamedly.

"T-Toji, fuck," you couldn't help but pant out, trying your best to turn your head in his direction.

"What's wrong, princess, angry that you didn't get to cum?" he responded, taunting you. Not that he could say much, either. His dick was aching, wanting to unload in you already. His hands came up to rub around your hips, squeezing you, waiting for your response.

"Of course I am. Just let me cum already, please," you begged, trying to wiggle your hips at him.

Toji hummed, seeming to think about your words. You tried to wait patiently as he did this, feeling one of his hands leave your body, but the loud smack that resounded caught you off guard, followed quickly by a sharp, stinging pain from your asscheek where he'd just spanked you. It drew out a loud cry from your mouth before you could stop it, and Toji just chuckled in response.

"Hmph. I don't think you deserve to cum yet." His hand rubbed over where he spanked, a soothing motion in contradiction with his words. "You've been acting like a little whore around me for weeks now, doing dumb shit to get my attention. Imagine if one of the other officers caught you, I don't think they'd be nearly as.. lenient as I've been. If you wanna cum, you gotta beg a little more first."

His hand came down on your asscheek again, and you tried to stifle your cry, body still jolting in response.

"Please, Toji, I want to cum," you said against the pillow, tugging weakly on your handcuffs. Your core ached for release, and the spanking was only sending tingles straight to your clit, making it all worse.

"I can't hear you, sweetie, what was that?"

Another slap to your ass, this time a little harder for emphasis. Your asscheek stung, and your whole body was hot, pleasure and shame fighting hard against each other. You hated begging, and Toji knew this. But damn your body, it just wanted to get off already. Your shame could wait til later. Swallowing down your reservations, you moved your head to speak more clearly, glancing back over your shoulder for emphasis.

"Please, Toji, make me cum. I promise I'll behave, just please, don't stop this time."

A smug look crossed his face, and he huffed out a laugh.

"That's what I thought."

Toji spread your cheeks again, spitting down on your cunt. The sensation made you shiver as it quickly cooled, but before you could respond, he angled his hips before sliding back into you to the hilt. The depth he reached made you jolt, but Toji's hands were a vice on your hips as he pulled back, nearly popping out before thrusting back in and setting a harsh pace.

The sounds of his thighs slapping against yours filled the air, and his heavy balls matched the motion against your aching clit, drawing out curses from your lips. It wasn't long before that roaring fire was in your belly once more, ready to overtake you, and with the way Toji was rutting desperately against you, you weren't the only one.

The head of his cock started to rub up against a particularly sensitive spot, and combined with the barrage on your clit, it was enough to push you over the edge finally, and your body twitched hard in your lover's grasp.

"Oh fuck—!" You cried out, before moaning loudly, body shaking as your orgasm completely overtook you.

Toji cursed as he felt your cunt clamp down on him, trying to milk him desperately, and it almost worked. He continued thrusting a little longer, drawing out your pleasure to the edge of overstimulation, before having to quickly pull out. Not even a second later, he was cumming across your ass, deep grunts coming from his throat with each throb of his cock. It was copious, dripping down your cheeks and across your cunt.

Your knees trembled from the hard orgasm, struggling to hold yourself up, but thankfully Toji moved up to unlock your handcuffs, helping you settle down on your stomach finally. He used his shirt to quick wipe you down of his fluids before falling back onto the bed beside you, closing his eyes.

Silence filled the air, and as the lust faded away and was replaced by fatigue, the rational part of your brain began to wake up again. You'd never been in his apartment before, and now you weren't sure what to do next. You'd definitely been breaking the law, and while you could fuck your way out of trouble before, you'd also been in easy-to-escape places. But before you could make any sort of plan with your fatigue-addled brain, Toji's muscular arm came around your waist, pulling you in close.

You had a moment of panic, but although he was strong, you could feel the movement was simply cradling you rather than trapping.

"Stop thinking and go to sleep. I won't do anything."

Toji's eyes were still closed, but you could hear the sincerity in his tone. Against your better judgment, something in you said to trust him. And anyway, with the way he'd just fucked your brains out, you weren't sure you could make much of a quick escape right now regardless. Finally settling down beside him in the warmth of his body, that would be something to think about later.

Wow it's been a minute since I've written Toji smut but I hope you enjoyed! As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated!

#toji x reader #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #toji smut #toji thirsts #the minx can write ✍️#spicy minx 🔥

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joaofelix70 · 5 months

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MISS DIPLOMAT & MR. CHARMING |

dominik szoboszlai x female reader.

author's note: this handsome man's living rent-free in my head. he's a freaking masterpiece. talented, funny, charismatic, attractive. i watched interviews, tiktok videos made by supporters and much more to understand a little bit of his language, personality and what he does towards friends and loved ones. laughed a lot! i made my homework as a writer, hope you enjoy it! (compliments and any kind of retributions are more than welcomed).

summary: your job is involving the commitment of unify the population and create interrelations to another countries, using the eurocup qualifiers and the hungary national team executions. you just didn't expect to fall in love with the no. 10's captain player.

words and characters: 1,811/11,223. it was three days working too hard on this story. i'm begging for your consideration, lol.

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sports diplomacy: it's the unique power of sport to bring people, nations, and communities closer together via a shared love of physical pursuits. this responsibility is the reason of a transition between strangers to connected individuals, advancing foreign policy goals and augmenting sport for development initiatives. the complex landscape where sport, politics, and diplomacy overlap become clearer, as do the pitfalls of using sport as a tool for overcoming and mediating separation between people, nonstate actors, and states. the power of sport has never been more important. so far, the 21st century has been dominated by disintegration, introspection, and the retreat of the nation-state from the globalization agenda. in such an environment, scholars, students, and practitioners of international relations are beginning to rethink how sport might be used to tackle climate change, gender inequality, and the united nations sustainable development goals, for example. to boost these integrative, positive efforts is to focus on the means as well as the ends, that is, the diplomacy, plural networks, and processes involved in the role sport can play in tackling the monumental traditional and human security challenges of our time. credits: international studies association and oxford university press.

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MLSZ (hungarian football federation) ──

new training ground at telki.

"i can't believe that being in places like this made up my most theoretically utopian childhood dreams. what a progress in front of me!" you still witness exciting moments where you pinch yourself, trying to believe in the reality that surrounds you: visiting the new training center of the players who are just a few meters away from you, getting ready to represent an entire country.

"your presence is our privilege. a voice of the spread of eurocup to our nation, right here…" the technical director gives you deference, obtaining a measure of humbleness and respect by you.

"the honor belongs to me in its entirety. grateful for having me, sir. while the view is immersive and captivating — my fervent congratulations to everyone involved — could we retreat from the pleasant glass-enclosed room and see everything closer, on the outside? please? i will never get used to this atmosphere." you pour politeness and charisma to the staffs around you, being directed to the proximity of the field and saluting the employees who pass through your path.

meet dominik — your szobo — instigates the nostalgic combination of detailed moments in which your thoughts display as photographic retrospectives. you're incapable to oppose the little enthusiastic laughs, fidgeting the rings between your fingers and avoiding possible suspicious glances from others. however, for you, this wouldn't actually work. the lives of you both are correlated, but different.

the training session is finished. clapping your hands and celebrating the performances, you greet the athletes and recognize some familiar people. nevertheless, reality slows down after those dark woody eyes capture through your soul. his arms tattoos are glorified by the sun's rays, the same illuminated smile is offered to you: that one you got during the very first time you saw him — instantly knowing he made you testimony the accuracy of freedom, catharsis and emotional amorous complement. that he'd be the one to introduce you what you never experienced, what you thought you'd never receive or deserve. what love truly is. when you were novices in your actual professions, not even imagining the future gifts of your unreal purposes.

"there you are!" intimately, dominik points at you, being reciprocated by vibrant nods and your old sort of secret — not that mysterious or serious — handshake. "még mindig emlékszel rá? (still remembering it?). you're a real one!"

"hogy tudnám elfelejteni? alábecsülsz engem. (how could i forget it? you're underestimating me)". your defensive actions demonstrate purposeful falseness. masking any sensitive, verbal or figurative communicative fragment from him is a difficulty that makes you give in over time. honestly, you never complain about this. it's like he wants to understand the factors and layers of you.

"a te kézfogás fickó. ne merészelj lecserélni engem. (your handshake man… don't you dare to replace me)". a shameless wink is send to you, butterflies acquiring space in your stomach.

"és hivatalosan is a szavamat adom rá. (and you officially have my word on it)." your gloss is pigmented against your fingers while you raise it up, displaying an oath, wondering if szoboszlai comprehends that his replacement in your life would be blasphemous.

"diplomata kisasszony, (miss diplomat)…" the hungarian fingerprints are shared and you recognize the sign to hold them, ready to perform your typical fashion icon moment. "gorgeous as always. go ahead! you know what to do!".

amusement surrounds you with the nickname's citation. although, you could feel some curious glances, from the outsiders, about the intimacy between you and him. "i appreciate, our top-class national bless…" you move your body in rotations to exclaim the outfit's characteristics, lifting your feet to show off the specificities of your heels. "how is your hair so well-groomed after sweating, though?" your arms cross and you raise an eyebrow in questioning, trying to hide your fascination.

"thank you, my number-one fan, but don't change the subject. finish our inside joke, c'mon!" dominik grabs his water bottle and spreads the cooling liquid on his forehead, wiping the glowing droplets across his face as he lifted his jersey high enough to exhibits his fortified abs.

your attention is directed to any surrounding scenery, throat being piked. szoboszlai pretends he doesn't notice, preventing to embarrass you.

"alright, alright! you've won, bájos úr… (mr. charming)". your final comment escapes as, practically, a whisper. you can't control the shy laughter, coupled with the considerable redness invading your cheeks.

"that's the secret to make my day!" using his tongue to reproduce a sharp noise, he matches your humorous reactions. "would you like me to show you the infrastructure changes? i'm just gonna take a shower!"

"i've already been granted a tour around here, but in case you insist…" during the dialogue, some athletes cross your space, wishing them good luck for the competition. your concentration on the activity is significant, at the point that dominik's silent admiration goes unnoticed.

"i mean, you know me! i'm gonna insist anyway, so…" he reaches your captivity, bringing you jollification.

"i'll rate you as a personal tour guide. now, go there!" jesting each other, you both exchange exaggerated reverences, like a challenge of who makes the most chaotic one.

────

walking around the area, various subjects are explored, informations entrusted. you ask and are updated about his ethereal younger sister.

portraits of the generations are framed. you magnifies his presence in celebratory pictures, dedicated to find him in the memories and achievements on that wall. pride shines from you and the hungarian finds it lovely.

"you know i'm a sucker for accents… they're much more than mere verbal characteristics, they're stories: life experiences, marks and scars. identities and cultural integrations." the topic is random. through generalized opinions, you're explaining conceptions and dominik is retaining mental observations. he exalts every scrap of your identity, like a faithful worshiper.

"basically, you're admitting being enchanted by my accent. i can see the stars in your eyes. a win is a win!" szoboszlai and his frequent attribute to physical touch, tickling your ears and playing with them. it doesn't bother you, actually: adoring the affection exuded by you and him. you feel like a little girl dealing with your one and only love.

"it's beautiful, how can you blame me? and hey, i know mine's making you grin too." he holds your arm, shivers running down your spine, the two of you being euphoric in the midst of your own enthusiasm.

"putting me against the wall? okay, hum… what were you saying before?" he's changing the subject and you have a natural wit to boo him. lifting his shoulders as a surrender, the hungarian focuses on the specific loose strands of his simple bracelet, which you get used to help him tie it again, willingly.

"trying to avoid the truth? fine! let me take care of you while i talk about my admiration towards globalization and communication. like, with every fiber of me…" you accept the conversation's direction and utter a 'voilà' towards the accessory's new appearance.

"that's why you're the best person i've ever seen doing this job." dominik compliments you, an act full of honesty.

"thanks a lot, mate. but which job? as your bracelet helper or my real one?" you provide tenderness, looking amused.

"i mean… both of them." szoboszlai chuckles, revealing courtesy by your continuous helpfulness.

"literally? because i know you know a lot of people. you're so young and already is the national team's captain." you nudge him in a form of tease. he's a starboy, it's undeniable.

"flattered! literally, thought. you were born for this, believe me." vulnerability collides to you, as his words are deliberated: emotions embracing you and warming your insides.

"dominik szoboszlai, my dear friend, you're gonna make me cry, right here. i'm sorry, i need to do it…"

innocent satisfaction builds strength over you and executes unthought-of approach to the tangibility of your gratitude — his colony enrapturing your sensitive olfaction — in the most out-of-control way. the sounds reach your hearing: a choir of angels singing hallelujah. he reciprocates the contact, laughing at your juvenile excitement. joining him and doing the same thing, harmonizing the triumph. in the separation of the touch, you both remain close to each other and the hungarian doesn't miss the opportunity to feel the softness of your side face, caressing the skin. appreciation and satisfaction invade your structure, delighting on the palm of his hand.

"just a dear friend? why are we pretending all this time?" dominik's reading you. the intimidation at the sight of him overhanging you is paralyzing. you don't usually back down, but in that instant — superior than your most repressed desires — your gasps are escaped.

"who is putting who against the wall now?" insisting and failing on your witty answers, shyness and uncertainty corrodes you.

"please, look at me! i'm not kidding anymore." his voice is questioning, intrigued — contradictorily vulnerable and calm — your rationality being fragmented, fragile.

"you know i'm not the kind of woman you're surrounding by, domi. i'm not an influencer, bikini model. i'm not a public figure. i don't live for the cameras and gossip platforms. i live to work hard. i didn't achieve any of this with some type of perk. my routine and your routine are based on traveling..." who could deny it? szoboszlai's always been all that you see. it's much more than a mere passion. your attraction to him is magnetic, intense, vivid. consequently, terrifying.

"i'm just asking for a chance, (your nickname). i don't lie when i say i've never met someone like you. i may be surrounded by a crowd and you'll still be the one to steal my attention, because nobody compares to you."

your eyelids are closed and the exhalation of his sigh penetrates your lungs with the numbing breath of life you've never experienced before. it's happening: the rare situation where thinking carefully about the pros and cons is unworthy, dumbness. your decision is made and the privilege's resolution unify your lips. the beginning demonstrates slowness and patience — the intensification through the concluded wait of the longed-for reality, transforming light and magical kisses into open mouths discovering each other and witnessing the endearment that both offer — hairs, necks, shoulders and waists captured.

"you're the first to create a meaningful presence in my mind and heart. i want you to be the last one too. i love you, kincs (my treasure). i'm finally brave enough to demonstrate it with no fears." dominik's forearm covers your upper torso. your back against his chest, noses resting on each others. rejoicing at the miraculous, incomparable circumstance.

"i love you, drágám (my precious). you're finally mine and it was so fucking worth waiting." his whisper: the living proof of celestial existence.

"how blessed we are…" intertwined bodies, coalesced essences. solitary melodies turning into the sweetest and most complete symphony.

236 notes · View notes

writers-potion · 2 months

Text

International Slang, Slang, Slang!

I'm sharing this list of slang in different languages (English, British English, French, Spanish, Italian, Japanese, Malaysian, Russian, Hindi) to use for dialogue:

English Slang

LOL = laugh out loud

OMG = oh my god

Noob = newbie

LMAO = laught my ass off

SFW = Safe work work

HMB = hit me back

XOXO = hugs and kisses

Txt = text

msg = message

cuz = because

kinda = kind of

outta = out of

'bout = about

C'mon = come on

'em = them

lil = little

lotsa = lots of

nope/nah = no

wanna = want to

dunno = don't know

lemme = let me

TBH = to be honest

gotcha = have got you

jack around = waste time

jillion = an immense number

nuke = destroy, delete

bushed = extremely tired

fab = fabulous

chicken = coward

grabbers = hands

grub = food

vanilla = plain

peanuts = very little money

British English Slang

skive = lazy or avoid doing something

knackered = tired

nicked = stolen

bugger = jerk

zed = equivalent to zzzzzz

nosh = food

dog's bollocks = awesome

bog roll = toliet paper

nutter = crazy person

punter = customer/prostitute's client

fiver = 5 euros

toff = upper class person

taking the piss = screwing around

pissed = drunk

wonky = not right

gutted = devastated

Tosser = idiot

Cock-up = screw up

Bloody = damn

Wanker = idiot

Fancy = like

Lost the plot = gone crazy

Kip = sleep or nap

Bee's knees = awesome

Dodgy = suspicious

Wicked = cool!

Know your onions = knowledgeable

Chuffed = proud

Bespoke = custom made

Give you a bell = call you

Hoover = vacuum

Tad = little bit

French Slang

Spanish Slang

Tu (me) fair chier) = (literally: you make me

shit) You are pissing me off

Ca me saoule = I'm sick of this

J'en ai ras le cul = I'm sick of this

Fringues = clothes

Grailler = to buy/steal/take/eat

Crever = to die

Crevant = exhausting

Gerber = to throw up

Defonce = stoned

Glander = to procrastinate/to do nothing/to

lay around

Va craver = go die

J'ai la dalle = I'm hungry

Avoir la flemme = not wanting to do

something

Japanese Slang

Tio = dude or guy

Guay = cool/great

Currar = to work

Fome = boring

Value = okay or sure

Colega = buddy or friend

Pasta = moneu

Majo = nice or friendly

Flipar = to be shocked

Bocachancla = gossip

Raro - weird

Papear = to eat

Resaca = hangover

Plomazo = boring

Loco = crazy

Chafa = Lame

Baka (ばか) = Stupid or idiot.

Bucchake (ぶっちゃけ) = To be honest or frank.

Chiruru (チルる) = To chill or relax.

Chō (超) = Very.

Dame (だめ) = No good or not allowed.

Dasai (ダサい) = Uncool or out of style.

Disuru (ディスる) = To disrespect or talk down about someone.

Egui (えぐい) = Awesome or incredible.

Gachi (ガチ) = Serious or real.

Ganba (がんば) = A short version of “ganbatte,” meaning “do your best” or “good luck.”

Guguru (ググる) = To Google something.

Gyaru (ギャル) = A fashion-conscious young lady with tanned skin and long nails.

Honto (ほんと ) = Really or for real.

Ii kanji (いい感じ) = To have a good vibe or feeling about something.

JK = High school girl.

Kimoi (キモい) = Creepy or gross.

Kira kira (キラキラ) = Sparkling, cute, or beautiful.

Kireru (キレる) = To snap or lose your temper.

Maji (マジ) = Seriously or really.

Moteru (モテる) = To be popular or attractive.

Mukatsuku (むかつく) = To be irritated.

Nampa (ナンパ) = To chat or pick someone up.

Sugoi (すごい) = Amazing or incredible.

Uzai (うざい) = Another word for annoying.

Wakannai (わかんない) = I don’t know.

Yabai (ヤバい) = Anything from “awesome” to “oh no.”

Russian Slang

Долбоеб (dolboyob_) = Fool, Idiot

Иди на хуй (idi na hui) = F*ck yourself

Сволочь (svo lach’) = Trash, Scum, Jerk

Жопа (zho pa) = Brat (typically used towards children)

Гавно (gav no) = Sh!t (used more when speaking to yourself rather than to insult someone)

лох (loh) = Stupid, Idiot, Sucker

Гандон (gan don) = Condom (Whilst calling someone a condom in English is just not a thing, it’s quite common in Russia. Used to refer to someone weak or just plain irritating)

Чушь собачья (chush’ sobach’ya) = Bullsh!tter

Malaysian Slang

Трахни тебя (trakhni tebya) = F*ck You

Ти дегхенераат (ti degheneraat) = You’re a degenerate

Отыебис от меныа! (otyebis ot menya!) = Move your ass / Get the f*ck away

чертовски дно (chertovski dno) = F*cking bottom (would be used when referring to hitting rock bottom.)

Bo jio = use when referring to friend who didn't invite them to a gathering (e.g. 'why you bo jio?)

Ýum cha = hang out over drinks or food at local coffee shops

belanja = I got you covered

Potong Stim = killjoy

Boss = waiters refer to their cusomters as boss, and customers call out for waiters using the same term!

Tapau/Bungkus = take-away

Ang Moh/Mat Salleh = "Western foreigners"

Kantoi = being cuaght red handed

Paiseh = shy or embarrased

Walao Eh! = brother

Macha = good friends (equivalent to "fam" in English)

Alamak! = shock, surprise, or frustration (punctuate with 'face palm' for dramatic effect)

Lah = This one really has no meaning, used to add "emphasis" and "flavor" to sentences. It is rather addictive...

Kawan baik = best friend

Jom = let's (inviting someone to do something together)

Best gila = crazy good, crazy fine (like "amazing!" in English)

Kantoi = busted

Fuyoh = WOW or OMG

Cincai = whatever

Italian Slang

Ma Dai = come on, imagine, stop it (express surprise, amazement)

Chi Se Ne Frega? = Who cares?

Scialla = stay calm

In Bocca Al Lupo = Good luck

Come Il Cacio Sui Maccheroni = like sheep's milk for the macaroni

Come Te La Passi = How is it going?

Trescare – Have a flirt

Camomillarsi – Calm down

Sbalconato – Be out of your mind

Incicognarsi – Get pregnant

Citofonarsi – Call someone by surname

Tirare tardi – To be late

Inciucio – Intrigue, a cheat, a mess

Un carnaio – Many people together in the same place

Abbioccarsi – falling asleep unexpectedly

Bordello – Problematic, confusing, and chaotic situation

Fottìo – Something that has happened or occurs in large quantities

Svalvolare – Loss of control

Rosicare – To be envious of something

Scazzato – A state of mind of malaise

Che pizza – a boring or bad thing

Sbroccare o sclerare – Getting angry and making a scene

Raga – Guys

Tranqui – abbreviation of the word “calm,” it means to stay calm

Che Figata – Cool

Meno male! – Luckily or thank goodness

Che schifo – How disgusting

Vivere alla giornata – Live in the moment

Pisolino – An Italian slang word that means “afternoon nap”

Hindi Slang

Yaar = Friend, used at the end of sentences for casual social interactions (including shopkeepers/autorickshaw drivers)

Achcha = good/okay/really?

Thik Hain = okay (+ head nod)

Arre = hey (with a higher tone = surprise, lower tone = exasperation)

Bas = that's it

Chakkar = dizziness

Funda = fundamentals

Ghanta = Yeah right

Jugaad = hack

Bakwaas = nonsense

Chalega = That will do

192 notes · View notes

superhoeva · 4 months

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘: 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐎𝐍𝐄

next chapter | series masterlist | main masterlist

⬩ pairing(s) sexologist!francisco "frankie" morales x college student!female!reader

⬩ warning(s) very inaccurate scientific study methods (this could not happen in real life without someone going to jail, i think lol), language, flirting, sexual tension, scientific talk about genitals, safe sex practices, pcos (mentioned), endometriosis (mentioned), commentary on unbalanced male domination of sexual spaces, Spanish nicknames/pet names, smut smut smut, somewhat-guided masturbation, reader hs nipple pircings, dirty talk, mdom-ish!frankie, pussy drunk!frankie, consent checks, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), big hands!frankie, bodily fluids, doctor/patient relations, the whole "we want to but we can't but we might have to anyways" kind of vibes, some aftercare, pov switches (reader's pov uses "dr. morales. frankie's pov uses "frankie.")

⬩ author's note happy new year! starting 2024 off with a bang (literally, ha) of a new series. as mentioned before, this was inspired by an audio series created by anonyfun35 on the erotic audio site quinn (very much recommend the series and entire site if you're looking for more ethical alternatives to regular porn and able to spare a few extra dollars!), which is absolutely heavenly. frankie's been sitting in my heart recently after rewatching triple frontier, and now here we are! here is chapter one, as promised, and i can not wait to share the rest of this series with you all! (p.s. i know some people have asked to be tagged in this, but i no longer do tag lists. for those who want to keep up with new chapter, i'd recommend following the au: the study tag or just check back here regularly! heeds the warnings. let me know if i've forgotten any. drink your water. love you and hope you enjoy. <3

⬩ word count 6.4k(!)

The lobby is suspiciously comfortable for a doctor’s office. As if the chair you’ve been shuffling back and forth in for the past five minutes. You’ve decided to focus on the mint green tint of the walls to steady yourself. Your breath moves in and out of you in quivering streams, and you have to keep running your tongue over the flesh of your bottom lip to stop your teeth from drawing blood.

A sweet-looking brunette types away at the lobby desk, and she sends you a quick smile when you accidentally catch her eye. You hope the grin you send back doesn’t look as pitiful as it felt.

Straight across from you, there’s a poster of a vagina. Vibrant and contrasting nicely with the color of the wall, it labels each part of the genitalia with pretty, curvy letters. You read over each of them, laughing a little when you get to the clitoris. Maybe you should hang a copy of the poster over your headboard. Just to make it a little easier for those who need it.

Your eyes trail left. Another poster, this one with photos of different types of barrier methods for safe sex; on it is everything from internal condoms to dental dams and a short explanation for when it’s best to use them. You study it with a little more intent than the last one and become so engrossed that you don’t hear the receptionist at the desk until her third calling of your name.

You jolt a little, looking over at her with widened eyes.

“Sorry, yes?”

She smiles at the look on your face, shaking her head.

“It’s alright,” she promises, “that stuff’s actually pretty interesting, right? I just wanted to tell you that Dr. Morales is ready to start whenever you are.”

Ignoring the way your heart jumps a little, you rise from your seat with the best grin you can manage.

“Alright,” you nod, gaze flickering down a nearby hallway, “is it–”

“All the way down and to the right. Can’t miss it. And feel free to let me know if you need anything, before or after. I’m here for whatever you need me for.”

There’s something genuine in her voice that lets your shoulders relax. You smile again, and it feels real this time. “I think I’m okay right now, but I appreciate it, I do. Thank you.”

“No worries. Oh, and honey,” she pauses, taking a second to leave her seat and trot over in front of you. “Remember to breathe. Dr. Morales is a sweetheart, I promise. Wouldn’t work here if that wasn’t the case.”

Melanie the tag on her name reads. She gives you one last wink before returning to her desk. A warm feeling fills you nicely as you watch her for a few more seconds.

Melanie is nice. You like Melanie. If you could, you’d stay and talk to her for a while, but no sense in keeping the doctor waiting.

As you head down the hallway, the walk feels like it lasts half a second and a thousand years all at once. Time here seems to work a little differently, but maybe that’s only because of how unbelievably fucking nervous you are.

The room is at the end of the hall on the right. Just like Melanie said. The knock you give the door is softer than you mean for it to be, but it pulls open before you get the chance to knock again.

“Hi, welcome. Come on in, please.”

Well, fuck. Fuck.

The first thing you notice isn’t the fluff of hair on his head, or his big, doe, brown eyes–it’s his voice. A deep, pleasing rasp that’s soft and stirring, all of it combining into a sensation that sits snugly right in the middle of your chest. And legs.

You take a second to swallow the spit in your mouth.

“Hi,” you all but mumble back, swallowing again. God, you hope he doesn’t hear the sharp exhale that leaves your nose when he steps to the side with a smile. Your eyes blow up, big and wide, but only for a second as you swiftly compose yourself. You’re here for a scientific study, damn it, not to gape at how fucking gorgeous Dr. Morales is. Even though he is fucking gorgeous. “You’re Dr. Morales?”

“Yes,” he answers effortlessly, and you bite your tongue when he rattles off your name. His voice. You barely remember to nod, and he smiles. Now that you think about it, he hasn’t stopped smiling since he opened the door, and it’s already building a bit of sweat at the back of your neck. “It’s nice to meet you finally. Been seeing your name on all the paperwork, so it’s nice to put a face to it. Especially a face as nice as yours.”

You swallow, again, and can’t hold back the grin his words bring. “Thank you and uh… likewise.”

Dr. Morales pauses and your heart stops at the way his face drops. Then his eyebrows raise slightly like he’s impressed, and he takes in a long breath himself. A gulp of air finally refills your lungs when his smile returns, more of a smirk now.

“Thank you.”

The two words are followed by a small silence. You take it as a chance to look around. Dr. Morales takes it as a chance to glance you over, and his teeth bite into the side of his mouth at the dress you’re wearing. It’s airy and short, stopping just above the middle of your thigh.

He sniffs, clearing his throat.

“Well, if you want to go ahead and get seated, I think it’s best we just start with some introductions to break some ice. Then a short discussion about the study itself, boundaries, things like that. And I know you answered a lot of those types of questions in your application, but I think more authentic answers can come about when speaking, you know, face-to-face. Plus it’ll give us both the chance to get to know each other a little better. Relax before we get to the actual… activities for today’s session.”

You blink.

“You’re doing the… the stuff?”

Dr. Morales blinks.

“Yes,” he starts slowly, eyebrows furrowing. “I’m sorry, was that not what you were expecting? I-It’s in the forms you signed, though I guess it is pretty easy to glance over if you don’t know where to look. But if that’s not something you’re comfortable with, I completely understand. We also have some female doctors participating in the study if you–”

“–I’m comfortable with you doing it.” God, you know interrupting was rude. But the words spill out of you before you can stop them. “Really, I’m okay with it. Just surprised me a little, considering…”

A hard clenching of your teeth doesn’t work to hold back the small grin that sneaks upon your face at the expression on Dr. Morales’s face. He’s gone from warm to faltering and back to warm again, with a hint of delight just in the past few moments.

“Considering what?”

Dr. Morales squints his eyes as he asks the question. Watching and waiting for your answer with the knuckles of his fingers rubbing across his pink lips. You only let your gaze trail across the action for a short second. Any longer, and you’re sure you’ll melt away.

“Nothing,” you finally breathe with a soft laugh. The muscles in your neck tense and pull as you force your eyes upwards. Back to his eyes. “Sorry, uh… introductions?”

Something in his gaze shifts and he drops his hand.

“Right, right. Uh, feel free to take a seat here while I pull up your file real quick,” Dr. Morales tells you, motioning to the deep red chaise wing chair you didn’t notice until now. You nod, not trusting your voice, and settle into the large chair. It’s even more comfortable than the one in the lobby, and Dr. Morales just barely keeps his smile at how you subconsciously snuggle into the plush.

Other than the blood rushing past your ears, the clacking of his fast typing is the only sound in the room.

Much like the lobby, the room is rather warm for where you are, literally and figuratively. It’s a kind difference from something like the dentist or your normal practitioner. The opposite of the bright, sterile white you’d expected. You can tell the room was put together with the intention of being congenial for whoever steps inside. The velvet couch and nice rug that decorate the space tell you that much.

It seems that Dr. Morales dresses with the same purpose, white coat hanging forgotten on the back of his swivel chair, showing off the taupe button-up that stretches over his impressive set of shoulders. The shirt is tucked into a pair of thick, clean-cut jeans that hug around his waist.

“Alright,” Dr. Morales begins, sliding his chair over a few feet so you can see him a bit better. He smiles as he continues, reading off your name and age, to which you nod and smile back. You make sure the grin is big enough to cover the shiver that runs throughout your body and you don't notice that he didn’t even have to look at the screen when reciting the words.

“Great. Well, as I already told you, I’m Francisco Morales,” he chuckles, “one of the doctors here participating in this study you’ve so kindly agreed to be a part of. We’re really excited about all the knowledge we’re expecting to gain from the study. I, uh, we–we really appreciate you being here.”

“Oh, thank you for the opportunity. I’m also really excited. Never been involved in something like this before, so… yeah. I’m excited.”

Huh. Excited is one of the few words able to come to your mind as you bumble through the sentence. After only a few minutes with the doctor, you’ve found it’s somewhat difficult to form a coherent enough sentence. It’s even harder with him staring at you.

“What made you want to participate, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Um,” you start without thinking, “part of it was the topic of the study itself, I guess. So many of the things that have to do with sex, at least in my experience, are centered around men and their pleasure and what makes them feel good. So I think it’s refreshing to see something like this.”

“Oh, absolutely. That’s the whole reason for us doing this. I mean, we’ve got gynecologists, hormone specialists, endocrinologists, gender surgeons, and even sex therapists on my team all working together on this.”

“Oh, wow. That’s actually… really impressive,” you breathe out, but Dr. Morales shakes his head.

“It is, but I don’t wanna take all the credit. We’ve got a lot of amazing people working on this thing that’s gonna lead to ways to help women suffering from endometriosis, PCOS, trans women, everyone, really.”

Your eyes soften at the doctor’s words, and you straighten a little.

“Well, now I’m very happy to be here.”

Dr. Morales’s eyes squint with his smile this time. It’s the biggest he’s smiled all week.

“Good. I’m glad. And you’ve already filled out all the financial paperwork? Wanna make sure you get paid for this week’s session as soon as possible.”

“Oh, yeah. That was actually the other reason I signed up. Got some student loan payments coming up, and I could use the extra money.”

Dr. Morales laughs to himself.

“Loan payments are a bitch, aren’t they? Still paying mine off,” He shakes his head. Something about his curse pulls a small chuckle from you.

“Never heard a doctor curse before,” you tell him, and he laughs this time, raising his eyebrows with a shrug.

“Sorry. I’ll try to keep it at bay, but I should warn you… I can have a pretty dirty mouth.”

Whether he knows it or not, Dr. Morales’s voice seems to drop an octave as he speaks. The words are paired with his gaze clouding to something similar to a stirring ardor. It shakes something inside you, rumbling into the depths of your veins, heating you in a way that feels remarkable. In a way that has you clenching and reeling, eyes just barely watering.

He hasn’t even touched you yet, and he’s got you evaporating into a transcendent air of nothing. You brush your hands along the fabric of the skirt of your dress, arms stretching and trying to find some sense of relief. Dr. Morales stares into you, a burning observance of an action that your subconscious therefore controls more than anything. The look is hot and pointed and forces him to take in a long inhale. He squeezes the thin arm of his chair when you finally grant him a soft reply.

“I don’t mind.”

Dr. Morales pauses before letting out a huff. A smirk teases across his lips, and his mouth opens like he’s going to say something. He stops just short of whatever it is, opting to roll his seat a little closer to you while clearing his throat.

His elbows hit the top of his knees, gaze tilting to yours. Unable to hold it, you try to settle for his hands, but that doesn’t seem to calm you at all. You flick your eyes again, this time onto his thighs, but it’s no use.

Damn it.

“Um, so today’s session will revolve around cunnilingus and a some hand stimulation. Uh… sorry. Sorry, I–” Dr. Morales stumbles to a stop and your eyebrows furrow.

“You okay?”

He holds a hand out at the look on your face with a quick nod.

“Yeah, yes, I’m okay. Where was I? Uh… right, so like we talked about a little bit ago, I’ll be the one performing the… stuff, as you called it. And speaking of that, you’re still one hundred percent comfortable with me being to one to do it?”

“Hundred and ten,” you promise with a bobbing of your head that makes him grin again.

“Okay, then,” he nods back, hands rubbing against the denim of his jeans. “Let’s get started.”

.・゜゜・

You’re going to be the death of him.

He had an inkling of it when you greeted him at the door, those eyes all wide as you took everything in. He was confident about it when you assured him that you’d be alright with the fact that he’d be the one ‘doing the stuff.’ He knew when you didn’t mind his dirty mouth. And he was certain when you'd asked if he was alright.

Dead. That’s what you’ll make him by the end of this study, and he’ll go happy. A little embarrassed also, given how he started sputtering through his sentences like he was twenty years younger.

Frankie’s breath catches a little when he returns to the room after washing his hands. You’re just finishing the tie on the robe he’d provided you with, and he doesn’t realize how flimsy it is until now. It maps across your shape damn near perfectly as you hang your dress on the side of the wingchair.

“Hi,” you breathe out, spinning around. Frankie rakes his teeth over his bottom row of teeth hard.

“Hi,” he blinks back, making sure to brighten his face with a small smile. “Ready?”

You shakily hum your answer, smoothing down your robe to busy your hands. It’s made of silk and feels incredible, but boy is it small. Just barely covering the cheeks of your ass, you might as well be wearing nothing.

“Alright. So, before I forget, let me go ahead and get a swab of the inside of your cheek, just so we have that on record.”

Frankie grabs a long cotton swab and its transport tube off his desk, stepping over to where you stand waiting. He swallows, ordering you to softly open. You obey with no questions asked, dropping your jaws.

Did you mean to stick out your tongue, too? Frankie has no idea, but whatever the answer is, he doesn’t care, not with the rustle he feels in his middle.

“Thank you,” he replies after a few scrubs of your mouth, eyes catching yours briefly before sticking the swab in the tube and placing it back onto his desk. He huffs, turning back around to you. “Now, let’s get you settled on the couch.”

Frankie holds out his hand for you to take without thinking. The regret that runs through him slips away as you place your hand into his grip and let him lead you. His other hand reaches for his chair, rolling it over as he walks with you.

He rubs a gentle thumb on the back of your palm as you sit, hand squeezing into a fist when yours drops from his. Frankie sits in his chair with a grunt, planting his feet on the group, making sure to face you.

The man softens a little at the sight of you, all bunched up into a ball of returned nerves, and he thinks for a moment.

“How about we start with a deep breath, yeah? Relax a little bit before we do anything else?”

You nod and Frankie’s head goes a bit fuzzy for a short moment. You’re so sweet, with your tiny robe and all your nods, like candy. You breathe in deep, just like he says to. Your chest rises with it, and Frankie almost forgets to take in the breath as well.

“Good. Now, how we go from here is up to you,” Frankie starts, hands folding together politely. “Robe can stay on, or you can take it off. Your decision–”

“Robe off,” you speak before he’s finished. He holds back a chuckle. “Sorry. I’m okay with it off if you are.”

Of course, you are. Of course, you are, and so is he.

“That’s absolutely okay with me. As long as you’re comfortable,” he states, and your fingers go to pull at the tie. He shuffles, waiting, and swallows when you pause.”

“Um, is my bra being off okay? I took it off with my dress, didn’t even think about it until now.”

Frankie’s head pivots back to the wine-colored chair. And so you did. There’s more lace than he expects, causing him to stare longer than he means. He turns back to you with his eyes darker than before.

“That’s perfectly fine.”

You nod again, fuck, and finally pull the ties. His heart nearly stops as the silk slips down your shoulder, exposing your naked skin to him, inch by inch.

God, you’re devastating. You devastate him, and he’s going to die a happy, happy man. It’s inappropriate, he knows that, but fuck. Yes, he’s a doctor, but he’s also a man with blood pumping through his veins and down into his cock, which he’s currently shielding with a subtle cupping of his hand.

Your robe continues to fall, and soon enough, nearly all of you is revealed to him. His eyes, working with a mind of their own, fall upon your breasts.

Of course.

“Wow,” is all he says, and the corners of your mouth pull upwards. You peek down, the tips of your barbell piercings shining with every one of your shaky inhales. “Wow, uh… wow.”

“Oh, these. Yeah, I got them a few years ago,” you reveal, setting the robe to the side. “Hurt like hell, but it was worth it.”

“While I definitely agree, I was talking about your… everything. You’re gorgeous, querida.”

Querida. The name is unexpected, yet received by you with dilating pupils. It’s not just the way he says it but the way he says it. You can tell that he means it, every letter. Every syllable, as it falls off his tongue, into your ears, and down to just inside the thin layer of your panties.

It’s the only piece of clothing left on your body, and you’re certain they’re soaked. You can feel yourself seeping through, needing for something to happen. Anything, or you’ll die.

“Thank you,” you murmur back, impatience inching you closer and closer. To what, you don’t know, but you think it’s something special. “Should I go ahead and…?”

Dr. Morales’s gaze oozes down you where you’re slowly parting your legs. It takes him a second to answer.

“Uh,” he interrupts himself with a short laugh, “actually I was going to have you do something else for me first. When you’re, you know, in the act of pleasuring yourself, how do you usually start? Do you… do you dive right in or is there some kind of build-up?”

Legs having paused, you blink. It’s almost impossible to formulate an answer, but somehow you manage.

“Normally, I’d play with my nipples.” God, it sounds so silly when you say it out loud. “Tease myself for a little bit until I’m ready to start.”

The doctor sits back in his seat, still covering his growing member.

“Why don’t you go ahead and do a little bit of that for me?”

There’s that thing again. With his voice, the thing that is causing your organs to convulse and squeeze. Has you scooting a little further back onto the couch with ease and a deep breath.

You hear Dr. Morales suck in one of his own as your legs spread a little further, revealing a large wet splotch in the very middle of your panties. It’s seeped a little into the couch, and you’re not even embarrassed. Your legs more because you want him to see it. You need him to.

A flinch jerks you when the tips of your fingers meet the buds of your breast. You twist and pull, and it feels good. Better than normal with the beautiful doctor watching you do it. They start to pebble around the metal and a few shocks through you.

Leaving your lips is a gasp. Soft and nearly nothing, but it tugs something from Dr. Morales.

“That’s it. Good girl.”

When you gasp again, he bites his lip.

“You like that? You like it when I say that?”

You nod.

“Words, querida.” No matter how much he likes the nod.

“Yes, I like it when you say that.”

“When I say what?”

You hear him chuckle at the small groan you release.

“A good girl.”

Your voice is even smaller now, hoarse with want.

“Good girl.” Another groan from you. “Now, I need you to move a little further down, okay? Slip those pretty panties off for me.”

Your turn.

“You really like them?”

Dr. Morales’s throat bobs at your question you ask while dragging your hand lower. They glide across your stomach to rest just over your center. Pushing onto your clit, your moan is muffled by the way your teeth catch the soft flesh of your lip.

“I do, muñeca,” he assures you. “I really do. They’re almost as pretty as you are.”

You can’t help the full grin that sneaks onto your face. You push against yourself a little harder, and your head falls to the back of the couch. Fingers hooking under the seam, you tug.

Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion at this moment. You raise your head back up, just to catch the reaction from the doctor, who’s already gazing into your pussy when your eyes refocus. His breathing changes from long, calming inhales, to unsteady suspires.

“Jesus,” he grits out just under his breath when you eventually throw your panties alongside the robe and fully open yourself to him. Clenching around nothing, you relax further into the couch, legs propped and feet settled against the velvet.

Your huffs push out hot when Dr. Morales finally lifts from his seat. You don’t dare look away as he steps forward, towering over you. He bends at the waist, face lowering near your own. He gets so close that, for a split second, you think he’s going to kiss you. Press his pouting lips into yours like you so badly want him to.

His breath fans across your face, but he pulls away before you get to bask in any of the warmth. In his hand is a pillow from the couch that he plops onto the floor.

“Bad knees,” Dr. Morales mumbles, smirking at the dazed look in your eye. You say absolutely nothing, only watching as he drops his knees onto the wide pillow, hands clenching the edge of the couch cushions.

All the doctor does for a tick is stare. He stares and stares, tongue darting out to wet his mouth.

“Keep rubbing for me, hermosa,” Dr. Morales orders. “Just a little more.”

Your pussy clenches around nothing when your fingers dip down and come back sticky with your wetness. A whine exits you, and your head falls again.

“Can you touch me now? Please,” you remember to add at the end, the ache between your legs forcing you to squirm. “Please, I can’t wait anymore.”

A hand on your thigh almost startles you. Your head tips back up to see his palm sitting heavy against your leg.

“This what you want?” He asks, another scalding touch planting itself on your other thigh. His hands give thrilling grips, thumbs landing at the very edge of your dripping lips.

A pathetic nod from you.

“Words, gorgeous,” Dr. Morales tells you, gaze completely unmoving.

Gorgeous. Hm. A new one, but just as effective.

You pant a few more times before pushing out “Yes, that’s what I wanted.”

“Good girl,” he praises, and you’re nearly done for. “Now, if I ask on a scale of one to ten, how turned on are you right now?”

It’s tough to think of an answer. His hands, so big and inching closer and closer to your heat, are melting your thoughts away at record speed. Everything you try to come up with leaves too fast for you to catch them.

“A… a seven,” you sigh, liking the way his eyes twinkle at your response. “Seven.”

Dr. Morales chuckles lowly, looking up at you.

“Seven?” Frankie grins. “I haven’t touched your pussy yet, and you’re already at a seven?”

He waits for an answer but only receives a long whine that makes him want to laugh again. Fuck, you’re cute. And wet enough that your juices ooze out of you with a pretty shine, and it’s all for him.

Honestly, the only reason he’s lasted this long is because this is for science. Because Francisco Morales is a medical professional and needs to have some kind of composure. It’s breaking, though. He knows it, and not just because of the way his hands crawl closer and closer to your pussy. Or because of the ache in his cock that’s straining against the crotch of his jeans. Sucking in a breath at the feeling of it catching against the tight fabric, Frankie scans you.

Your chest, those stunning tits, have a noticeable rise and fall and you watch him. Something in your gaze, an unexplainable force, finally pulls his face down. It’s as close to your pussy as it’s been. He tries to remind himself about the self-control he’s supposed to be possessing, but a few more seconds pass and it’s nowhere to be found.

He starts just off the left side. The first kiss, soft and careful to start easy. Figure out what you like, what you don’t, and what you really like.

Kiss after kiss, his lips press a little harder. Gliding across the skin of your thighs and pelvis, staying in a spot a little long when it elicits a sound or squirm from you.

The pecks turn to full smooches, and he soon enough finds himself right where he wants to be.

Eyes meeting yours, he sinks into you with a long, fiercely slow drag of his tongue. Frankie’s gaze ties into yours, he puckers his lips and sucks. It’s a supple thing that he pairs with a flick of his tongue right across your pearl.

“Oh,” you squeak, unable to continue with anything but another broken sound. When you arch, Frankie’s hand reaches higher to rest against your hip. He had his suspicions that you were a squirmer, but to see it like this, up close is something else. Something special. “Shit.”

God, you taste incredible. Better than incredible, and while he wants to tell you he can’t. There’s no way he’s pulling away from this, so he suffices for his own moan.

“Fuck,” he mumbles against you, mouth lifting to suck a bit harder. The hand not occupied on your hip reaches until his thumb sits just inside your opening. He rubs, delicately, all the way up, only pulling his mouth away to smooth it over the slick skin.

Another moan, this time from both of you when your hips grind upwards. He matches your movements, letting his head dip back down to continue his lick.

After a while, Frankie decides to up it a notch. Delve as much of his mouth as he can against you, lapping and slurping whatever he can catch before it leaks down onto his chin. The sound it makes, your pussy and his soaking lips, is disgusting. Loud, sinful squelches of wetness that he would give anything to hear for the rest of his life.

Yet somehow, what leaves you is even better. A combination of hitching breaths, loud coos, and cries for him to keep going. Just like that, fuck. So he keeps going, just as he is until he can barely breathe.

He yanks away from you with a grunt but makes sure to replace his tongue with his hand.

“Such a gorgeous pussy,” Frankie husks out, pressing another kiss to your inner thigh while he finishes catching his breath. “What number now, princesa?”

Frankie makes sure to wait until you’re about to answer him when he snakes his tongue into your slit and fucks. His head bobs back and forth, tongue caressing as deep inside of you as he can. His fingers return to your clit, rubbing with ease thanks to the mixture of slick and spit.

“I don’t know, I can’t think of one,” you rush out, and Frankie chuckles. He gives you one last bold lick before pulling away. He has to hold you tighter when you squirm in irritation, nearly sobbing.

Frankie shushes you with a kind pat on your thigh. You don’t have a chance to whine anything out before he hooks an arm of your thighs and tugs you to the edge of the couch. One of your legs hangs just off the couch, so the doctor hitches it over his shoulder.

His eyebrows scrunch, and he focuses his attention on ghosting a few fingers just barely inside of you. He looks up at you and is met with you already looking back, ready and waiting for him to push further.

He pauses in a wait. Not ten seconds pass before you try to thrust his fingers further yourself, but he doesn’t let you.

“All you need to do is give me a number, baby, and I’ll fuck these as deep as you want.”

“Nine,” you whisper, and he spots your hands clench. You must want to touch him.

“Nine,” he repeated, thumb rolling a circle over your clit. “How many fingers to get you to ten?”

“Three, plea–ah,” you mewl out when Frankie slides his middle digit inside you. He lets out his own noise at the way you suck him in.

His hand bottoms out, and you’re already fucking yourself on his finger. “That’s a girl. Already taking my finger so well. Feel so fucking good around me.”

You’re truly a sight to behold as Frankie watches you, skin damp with a slight sheen, curving and grinding against his hand. Speed increasing, almost growls when he bends to lap at your clit. His tongue twirls against the bud of nerves, and he has to close his eyes to stop himself from reaching down and giving his painfully hard cock a squeeze.

Frankie slides in the second and third finger at the same time, and you break.

You don’t mean to tangle his hair with your fingers, but they do anyway. It’s hard, but you tug them away, clenching the couch instead.

“Sorry. Sorry, I–” you blurt out, breath long gone, but Dr. Morales has none of it. He doesn’t lift from his licking and swirling to grab your hand and tangle your fingers back into his hair. “Fuck me.”

The rhythm he finds is relentless. He pumps knuckles deep inside you, sliding in and out, collecting a residue of thick moisture. He curls his fingers, searching and finding the spongy spot that causes you to tighten your grip on his hair. His fingertips drag across it, over and over, and you fall limp in his grasp.

“Good fucking girl,” he tells you, words slurring together in his pussy-drunken state. “So good for me. Now I need you to cum, alright? Need you to come for me, all over my fingers so I can drink it all up.”

Dr. Morales slurps messily, chin now nearly dripping as he eats at you. Savoring the tang and hint of sweet while his fingers drive with a steady vigor. There’s no way you can stay still now. You arch, twist, and grind into the doctor, propelling him even deeper. He’s reaching somewhere inside of you that you once thought impossible. Taking grasp of you entirely.

You’re close. You’re so close

“I’m clo–fuck, yes, I’m close. Please don’t stop, please,” you whimper.

“Yeah, you are. Squeezing all nice around me, like a good girl. Sucking you into my mouth. Love how you feel on my mouth, baby. And on my tongue and around my fingers. Never gonna forget how you taste. Shit, could come just like this, so I need you to come right now, okay?”

Frankie doesn’t even know what he’s saying, his rambles. They just pour out, some of it incomprehensible as he busies himself with circling and flicking your sensitive clit.

You sob out one last moan before the damn breaks. He groans along with you at the way your clit throbs against his tongue. His fingers slow, but only a bit as they make sure to rub right against your g-spot.

A choking sound leaves you as you can barely breathe. The air sucks from your lungs almost as hard as Dr. Morales does down below, and your eyes clench shut. You see stars and space, world falling mute, and body quaking with a thick orgasm.

It rolls over you in drowning waves, the euphoric warmth, driving you with an unbearable bliss. You whine, crying out a few tears. Twitching and shivering under the strong hands of Dr. Morales.

His hold is tender as you work through it, talking to you gently in the pauses he takes from licking you clean.

“Fucking look at you, querida.”

“Did so good for me, so fucking perfect.”

“Can’t wait to get you back in here next week.”

Only some of the words make it to your ears. The blood rushing makes it hard to understand, but just the sound of it is comforting enough. You feel more kisses press into you, this time just under your belly button, as the fingers inside you still.

The two of you stay like that for several minutes. Dr. Morales murmuring quietly to talk you down. Your leg still over his shoulder caressed by his free hand, while your own twirls at his brown locks.

“Fuck me,” you breathe out eventually, and Dr. Morales smiles against you. You can’t help but join him, chest warming at the final peck he places onto your knee before lowering your leg.

“Gonna pull out, okay? I’ll go slow,” he tells you. You nod, hand falling around his to touch at the warm skin. You huff out a short breath, mouth falling open as you stare at the wetness revealed when he begins to pull out.

Frankie whispers out his own damn, watching you until his fingers are free. Fuck, you’re pretty, aren’t you?

“I meant what I said earlier,” he declares, pushing away the thought. “Did great, muñeca. Incredible, actually.”

“I could say the same for you…” you mumble with a shy grin, and Frankie finds it touching. You’re divine. You’re precious. You’re… his patient.

The room is filled with heat and smells of sex. It clouds Frankie’s brain, but he knows he needs to keep moving. You can dwell, but not him. He’s got a job to do.

Frankie only lets himself stare for a few more minutes before he rises with a groan. His knees are aching, but he doesn't care. His face heats when you help him up the rest of the way, loose limbs and wet stains in all.

“Thank you,” he smiles, moving to hand you your robe with his untainted hand. “Let me go grab you some water and a towel, and then we can do your swab so you can get out of here.”

He’s turning to leave, heading for the bathroom across the hall to wash his hand–it’s still wet and shining, even now–but stops when he sees the look on your face.

“Is it required that I leave right away?”

Frankie is quick to answer. The small pout on your face makes it so.

“Of course not,” he shakes his head. “You’re free to take your time, take a breath. Sip on the water I’m gonna go grab you. Hell, you can even take a nap, if you want. I’ve uh… we’ve got rooms upstairs with beds and blankets. I think there are some snacks in there, too.

“Really?” You blink at him.

“Yeah. Gotta keep you all as comfortable as possible.”

Frankie sees that look again, the pout. He’s not sure you even know you’re doing it.

“I actually might take you up on that nap. I don’t think my legs have really come back yet,” you tell him, looking at him while slipping on the robe. When feels your eyes trail down, right to the bulge in his pants, he sucks in a rough inhale and does his best to screen the obvious.

“I’ll be right back with that water and towel,” Frankie rushes out, turning for the door.

His clean hand is sitting shaky on the handle when he hears you.

“Do you want me to…” you trail off, pausing for so long that he doesn’t expect you to keep going. “I could help you with that if you want.”

That. He knows you aren’t talking about getting water or towels, and it crumbles him. He grits his teeth, dick jumping at the thought of your–

No. No, he can’t. No matter how much he wants to, he can’t.

Frankie turns, digging deep for the strength to look you in the eyes.

“...we shouldn't, sweetheart. It’s against the rules, and we don’t want either of us getting in any kind of trouble, right?”

It takes a long time for you to nod. Way too long.

“Right,” you agree, but Frankie can smell the lie. He wonders if you can smell his, too.

#frankie morales smut #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco catfish morales #francisco morales #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier smut #triple frontier #au: the study

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