Tumgik
#you will not CATCH ME calling it X
for-thee · 18 days
Text
poll time
176 notes · View notes
sky-is-the-limit · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 (𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜) 𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔.
𝙲𝚆: 𝙰𝚏𝚊𝚋!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝙽𝙵𝚂𝚆 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝙿𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚂𝚎𝚡, 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 (𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐.)
𝚆𝙲: 𝟸,𝟿𝟿𝟷 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Did you get the photos I sent you?”
The wistfulness you felt with the sound of his voice was unmatched. It had been exactly three weeks since Kyle had to leave for another confidential mission, leaving you behind to deal with the all familiar saudade that washed over you every time he had to say 'goodbye'.
It was difficult to deal with, especially when there was nothing you could do to bring your person back to you.
Late nights without him were especially lonesome, sleeping without his warm frame beside you, his defined arms holding you close to his heart as though you'd vanish in the middle of the night.. Even that felt like a chore.
“I've been staring at them for the last 15 minutes, Kyle.” The beaming smile never left your lips as you admitted it, your fingertips still tracing the outline of his face on the screen.
Little gestures like this were enough to show you how much you mean to him. Despite being in a dangerous, unfamiliar environment, away from the warmth of your embrace, he always found time to send you photos to ease your worries.
“Because of the dog?” A sense of guilt started heaving in your chest to the sound of the exhaustion in his voice. Kyle had only asked one thing of you whenever he had to go, to always leave the work talk for when he would come back as the time you had on the phone was limited and he wanted to cherish every second.
“There's a dog? Oh, right. He's cute, too.” It was sweet how he took advantage of your soft spot for dogs to send you photos of every stray found in his way, though your attention was darted elsewhere the second you clicked on them.
Kyle was striking, as if angels had carved every feature on his face. From his delicate curls to his square jaw, he was statuesque in every sense, no matter what was hanging his body.
Yet there was something different whenever he was in uniform, the way those khaki trousers hugged his muscular thighs, his defined arms stretching the soft material of his shirt and that hat..
The same hat he put on you whenever he felt possessive, not letting you take it off whilst holding you in front of a mirror, skin slapping against skin tremendously slow and hard to get his point across. That you were his, and his only.
“But I'm cuter?” Kyle rested his cheek against his palm, resisting the urge to shut his eyes to the comfort of your voice, make belief that he is laying next to you.
“Cute isn't the right word I'd use when you're wearing your uniform, babe.” His velvet chuckle resonated in your chest, reminding you of the effect his playful tone had over your body.
“Oh? And what would you use instead?” Ah, Kyle and his lively cheekiness. His familiar smirk was evidently plastered on his lips even if you couldn't see it. You could hear it present in his voice.
“As if you don't know.” No matter how long the two of you were together, he never failed to make you flustered like a school girl.
“I wanna hear you say it, love.” His voice was a hushed whisper in the dark, a gentle brush against your ear that sent shivers down your spine.
“Fucking hot.” Your heart pounded in it’s cage, rattling the bars that were your ribs as the words came out of your mouth in a breathless whisper. There wasn't a definition good enough in any dictionary to describe the attractiveness of Kyle Garrick, fucking hot would have to do.
“Is that so?” Kyle murmured, his voice dangerously low, letting goosebumps to slither down your spine.
“Mhm..” You mumbled quietly, and without realizing it, you placed your hand on your bare thigh, drawing small circles on your skin.
Was it the nervousness of his overwhelming presence even through the phone? or the desperation to feel him on your skin? You couldn't tell the difference, nor that you had the mind to analyze it.
“You know, you haven't sent one back yet, and I miss my girl.” He cooed, emphasizing the last two words to make you quiver instinctively.
“My appearance isn't very.. decent right now Kyle.” You confessed the state you were caught in when the phone rang.
Once missing him started to feel too intense for you to doze off, you just let your hand wonder on your body, fantasizing that your boyfriend was safe next to you, touching you, devouring you whole. It was one of those nights and unfortunately your usual ritual was left unfinished. Or so you thought.
“Especially for pictures..” Was that part necessary? Very much so judging from the way he was heavy breathing against the shell of you ear, muffling something to himself before responding.
“Why? What are you wearing, Y/N?” He breathed, voice thick and gravelly with need and desire.
Drawing a slow breath, you glanced down at yourself. “Nothing.” You blurted out, the only sound following, your gentle breathing against the phone receiver.
“Fuck.” Suddenly, he was very much awake. There was a throbbing growing between your legs, a heavy pressure filling you up with each passing second of listening to his heavy breathing on the other end.
“All you have to say is 'please'.” Your own voice surprised you, tone oozing with desire and need. You were instantly spurred on by how intensely you wanted to show him how bad you missed him, how much you graved him.
“Bloody hell, Y/N, you're killing me here.” A surge of arousal hit your body instantly, feeling the near instant reaction between your thighs arising by the second to the sound of his suggestive tone.
“Now Kyle, that is not-”
“Please.” His words tumbled out in a fast-paced torrent, echoing the racing thoughts within his mind.
“Please, let me see you.” You could hear him suck in a shaky breath, followed by an increase in shuffling coming through the line, and you were sure he was opening the message. If it was up to your own judgement, it was not one of your best.
Hell, from the way your hands were trembling as he plead to see the sight he had seen so many times before, you were surprised it wasn't overly blurry.
“Fuck. You're a bloody masterpiece.” His words were a soft murmur, a soothing balm over your frayed nerves and you squeezed your thighs together at the praise, you felt yourself flush with renewed excitement. 
“I was thinking about you, you know.” Quietly you admitted, feeling the blood rush faster in your system, from your heart down to your throbbing core.
Kyle's pulse spiked as the words registered in his brain. He cleared his throat in an attempt to regain whatever of his composure was left but nothing on the other end.
 Then you heard a soft exhale, and Kyle seemed to be walking around, a few metallic clicks made in the background before he grunted and settled down on what you assumed to be the bed of his bunker room.
Indistinctively, your hand clutched onto your phone so tight, you feared it might break.
“Spread your legs.” There’s a little undercurrent of firmness in his tone that made you shiver. No hesitation, just Kyle's voice, assured as always. Overwhelmed, your entire body became impossibly still, and you just laid there frozen, unblinking, lips slightly parted.
“Kyle, where are you-” His forwardness didn't surprise you one bit. You figured out a long time ago that the quiet and calm facade was for the outside world.
Your attempt to keep a cool demeanour was cut short. Your body was practically melting into the mattress, vibrating with anticipation.
“I said, spread your legs, Y/N.” Yeah, he was definitely alone. It was like his voice was in your head, pulling out the threads of all your longing desires. The room around you, the past, the future, faded out until it was only him, sparking on your skin, inside you. 
“Okay.” You whispered softly, your body flushing not from embarrassment now, but from the promise hiding behind Kyle’s words.
A promise that guaranteed to leave you shaking, even from afar. You put your phone on speaker and hastily placed it on his pillow as though it would feel like he is right there, next to you.
“Now trail your hand down your body. Feel yourself.” His voice sounded deeper than you had ever heard it as he gave you orders. With a shaky exhale, you did as told, placing your finger gently around your throat and then began to gradually trail it down to your chest, feeling every inch of naked skin. 
“Imagine my hand on your skin, caressing your chest.” His silky smooth tone filtered through the line, inspiring a tinge of anxious excitement within you, and so you did.
“Bring one hand up to your mouth, darling. Wet your fingers for me.” His voice sounded deeper than you had ever heard it as he gave you orders and so you obeyed, bringing your fingers up to your lips before sucking on them with the same pace you suck on his.
After feeling satisfied with the wetness coating them, you took them out to await his next command.
“I’m sure you would’ve done it better, baby.” You remarked, trying for a more confident tone but instead affecting a rather sensual whisper.
You were really getting into it now that your imagination was taking over and, you suddenly realized, you were a lot hornier than you’d given yourself credit for at the start of this.
Your body was responding to everything he was saying just as eagerly as if he were really on the bed with you, which just made filling in the blanks all the easier.
“Mhm.” He issued a soft groan of approval before continuing. “Till then, baby, go ahead and wet your nipples for me.”
Closing your eyes, you scooted a little further down on the mattress to try and get comfortable so you could slip fully into the memory fueled fantasy.
You cradled your breasts delicately at first, your fingers slowly followed the contour of your body. But, in an attempt to mimic Kyle's touch, you swiftly readjusted your grip to a firmer grasp.
You closed your eyes and envisioned Kyle crawling on top of you as you forcefully fondled your tits. His physique was strong and unyielding, with lithe muscle. He pinned you to the sheets with ease, taking everything he desired from you without inquiry or worry.
“I'm touching them right now..”  You stuttered out, your cheeks immediately flashing, anticipation making your throbbing sex soak up even more.
"Pinching them, rolling them, imagining it's your hands on me. God, I wish I had your mouth on me right now." You sighed quietly, rubbing your thighs together in quest of some much-needed friction.
You were as powerless in front of the real guy as you were in front of the made-up mirage in your imagination, and you eventually slipped your hands up a little higher to pinch your nipples between thumb and forefinger.
“Good girl.” The raspiness in his voice pressed every right button to unlock your body before drawing a tentative breath. ''Now trail your hand between your thighs baby, feel your skin like I would.''
You slipped your fingers between your sopping wet folds, trembling from head to toe when a fresh burst of pleasure exploded behind your eyes at the contact to your clit. Drawing circles around it in quick, shaky motions, you arched into the touch. It was almost blindingly good, your expert precision unrivaled. You knew exactly where to apply friction and what sort of pressure to use.
“God-I miss your fingers.” You whined when your body began to react to the indelicate contact, eyebrows furrowing to the sensation. You shook your hips in eager eagerness as a new surge of desire flowed forward to coat your folds, which was not how you typically touched yourself.
“You miss having my long fingers inside you, baby? Stretching you open before I fuck you?” He asked slyly, his voice noticeably dropping an octave to a huskier cadence.
“Mmm, yes Kyle- God, I miss you.” You whined desperately, reason and calm eroding from merciless elation.
“I'd press myself against you, so you could feel my cock rubbing against your clit, fuck, I'm so hard for you right now-” His voice came out as a throaty whisper, and this time you couldn't hold back your shudder, eyelids fluttering.
“I miss you inside me Kyle-I miss you fucking me.” A shaky exhalation flowed through the phone, nearly forgotten by the cushion, the filthy sound eliciting chills all over your body.
“I miss tasting you, having to work so hard to eat it all because you're practically dripping on the mattress.” He hummed almost to himself. You imagined him doing that while his mouth was on your cunt, and you squirmed wildly.  
Your spine shuddered so violently that your back bent instinctively against the covers. The power in his melodically flowing voice made you tremble as you uncomfortably transferred the phone to your other ear.
You doubled down on your ministrations, enraged at being subjected to this kind of pressure. You strained against the covers, pulling your pussy lips apart and massaging your clit with such genuine desperation that it nearly hurt, as the pressure built up abnormally quickly.
You were dizzy and hot, painfully so, even sickeningly hot, but you were desperate to achieve climax. You had no choice, and your pulse was pounding madly in your chest as you careened recklessly towards the finish line at breakneck speed.
Suddenly the cool temperature of the room turned into unbearable heat, sweat dripping down from your forehead, hair messy against the silky pillow as you bucked up your hips against your palm, biting down on your bottom lip in an unsuccessful attempt to calm your sounds but as you got closer to climax, you couldn't control it.
Kyle continued speaking, his voice diving an octave lower and growing rough.
“Now slide one of your fingers into that pretty pussy of yours.” His voice snickered, but you could hear clear as day how breathless he was, how desperate you had made him, and the realization had your thighs shaking.
“Fuck-” Your voice sounded so broken and wrecked as you inserted one finger in your soaked hole, curling it upwards to hit your sweet spot, slick dripping down skin instantly.
“That's right, baby, do it just like I would.” Fucking into yourself slowly, you obeyed to his command, agonizingly feeling every inch of you. You jolted as if you’d been electrocuted, tense and shirking as you gripped the sheets so tight, your fingernails might leave marks underneath.
“Fuck, angel, keep going, keep fingering that wet little pussy for me.” Kyle urged, his voice strained as his breath lodged in his throat, listening to you moaning and gasping in response to his filthy words.
“Please Kyle-” You begged, not sure what exactly you were asking for but knowing you didn’t want him to stop talking. You added another finger to your dripping hole, crying out at the slight stretch.
“You like that baby? When I fuck into you?” He asked, managing to fill his tone with teasing even as his heavy breaths gave away how turned on he was.
“Tell me.” He prompted when you didn’t respond, too busy fucking yourself with your fingers to the sound of his voice.
“Yes, fuck-” A whine forced itself out of your lungs, the simple command sounding so filthy from your boyfriend's mouth. “Yes, Kyle!” You whimpered an answer around your gasping breaths.
“I'll be back soon, baby, soon so I can bury my face between your thighs and make you come on my tongue.” He promised, the words sounding like they were wrenched from the very depths of his soul. “Then I’m gonna shove my cock deep in your cunt and fuck you dumb.”
“Kyle-” You wailed out his name, fucking yourself harder as you imagined him looming over you in bed, his massive frame fucking you into the mattress, his cock buried deep inside of you, your arms and legs wrapped around him.
“Wanna see my cock stretch your little hole while I pound into you, wanna see your eyes go all hazy as you get drunker and drunker on my cock, angel.” He babbled, like he was helpless to stop himself from voicing every one of his dirty thoughts about you.
“That's it, that's my good girl, fuck yourself stupid to the sound of my voice.” He praised, making warm pride curl through your chest as more wetness flooded your core.
Even with how far gone you were, you could hear the confident smirk in his tone, but your body only heated and tightened hard in response as he spoke, your thumb circling your clit at a faster pace to match your fingers thrusting in and out of you.
The orgasm rocked you with such ferocity that the bed trembled under you, your toes uselessly straining at the blankets. You shouted, writhing as your pussy clamped down tight on nothing in erratic, fluttering palpitations, powerless to stop it.
Despite the flood of endorphins coursing through your system, it seemed empty, and you whimpered, the sound fading to a feeble little whimper before you could completely enjoy the high.
“That's my girl.” There was that warmth again in Kyle's voice that wrapped itself dangerously around your stomach, squeezing it tight. 
“Kyle?” You were still basking in the afterglow of your climax, voice feeble, as soft as a whisper.
“Yes, love?” He chuckled, sounding lifted in spirits to the sound of your broken tone. The smile on his face was transparently clear in his tone, and you couldn't help but to match it.
“Your turn.”
Tumblr media
333 notes · View notes
mortiferumsomnum · 2 years
Text
Soup Kitchens and Runaway Ghosts (Part 2)
Part 1 could be read here! Part 3 could be read here!
ASDGLHKASLGKHSDGK
thank you for liking my other post 👉👈 
 ***
It was night outside, with the owls hooting and bats flying under the light of the moon.
Jason had a hand on Dani’s shoulder as they sat in the (illegal) Doctor’s kitchen. Although she was putting on a brave face, she was trembling and pulling at the ends of her sweater. Her eyes never left the open door to the room Danny was getting medical help from. They couldn’t see his body, but they could see the Doctor walking to and fro’ the bed Danny was placed on.
“Hey,” Jason whispered, soothingly, hoping it’s the same comforting way Dick does.
Slowly, her gaze turns to him. Her chin was trembling, and she looked like she was on the verge of crying. Shit. What would Dick do? Jason didn’t think this far in the comforting thing.
So, he tugged the little girl closer, hugging her with his arm. “It’ll be okay,” he whispered to her. “He’s in good hands.”
She sniffed, and huffed through the sob that tore through her lips. “I... I don’t know how I could keep Danny safe...”
Jason glanced to her, but she was looking back to the open door. ‘What do you mean?’ he wanted to ask. ‘It’s not your job to take care of him,’ he wanted to say.
Instead, he whispered, “You did your best.” Because she did. She did her best to get food from his soup kitchen for both her and Danny, not at all stopping to eat in the cafeteria, only thinking to have her containers filled. She stole from drug stores. She tried bandaging Danny even if she didn’t know how to do it properly. She took care of him with everything she could.
(A passing memory of his mom, Catherine, flashes in his mind.)
That only made her chin tremble more, which prompted Jason to hug her closer. 
Finally, the Doctor stepped out.
***
- The Doctor tells Dani that Danny’s okay now, and that he’ll be telling the Red Hood everything that needs to be done to keep up with the treatment. Then, he tells Dani that she could go and see him. She didn’t need to be told twice and ran into the room.
- The Doctor closes the door, then grunted at the Red Hood. “Look, man. I know I said I would help you for anything medical-related, but I think I need to draw the line at freaky supernatural shit. His blood literally had green where the plasma was supposed to be.”
- Jason removed the safety of his gun.
- The Doctor was unfazed. “I’m not going to tell anyone, but men in white managing to track these kids down because they’re, what, ghosts???? Which is weird because that kid’s heart was beating????? And he’s alive??? In fact, the green stuff does a better job than regular human plasma, it’s unreal, man. Since it replaced the plasma the kid was supposed to HAVE, I’m calling it green plasma, for simplicity, yeah.”
- Jason’s not worried about that. “Tell me about the kid,” he said. “How is he, moving forward?”
- The Doctor’s face pinched. “It’s... not bad... anymore...”
- “Anymore?”
- “Look, when you brought the kid in, it’s exactly as you told me: Vivisection wounds, 3rd degree burns from laser guns, infection...” 
- The Red Hood was getting impatient with the way he was loosely fidgeting with his gun. 
- “Bottom line is, once everything was cleaned and properly stitched, he started... healing? On his own?? I took blood samples, and the green plasma has something to do with it. You know how plasma literally moves the blood cells? It seems to enhance their functions as well. The enhanced white blood cells were fighting against the infection that was also enhanced by the plasma. Once the infection was removed, it was smooth sailing for his body. Now, all the kid needs is rest, food and water.”
- Jason hummed. “I’m burning this house down.” There was a chance that the kids would be leaving some kind of bio-signature in this place, and the Doctor was one of the most competent people he knew after Leslie. He was also really easy to intimidate, but despite the fear, he does his job well. Works well under pressure, like what he wrote in his resume. “Change your clothes and pack your bags, Doc. I’m going to lend you one of my safehouses.”
- The Doctor was quick to nod his head. “I assume that you’re destroying the blood samples as well?”
- Jason pointed his gun towards him. “Did you take a sample?”
- The Doctor was fast to shake his head. “Like I said, I want nothing to do with the supernatural, man. I’m already knees deep in crime, and I really don’t want to be making contracts with beings more demonic than you are.”
- Jason huffed, putting his gun away. “The demon is my brother.” The Doctor squeaked. “After changing, leave your clothes here. It’s burning with the rest of the house.”
- “You got it, man,” said the Doctor, leaving the room with a brisk pace.
- Jason then went in where Danny and Dani were, and it seems like the kid was finally sleeping peacefully on the bed he was in. He was changed into a loose pajama that the Doctor probably had, and was tucked under a clean, beige blanket. Just as the Doctor said, he was looking a hundred times better. 
- Dani was smiling. Once she saw him, she jumped out of her seat and ran up to him, hugging his middle while laughing. “He’s okay!” she said. “Thank you thank you thank you so much!!”
- Jason chuckled, patting her head. “No problem, kid.” Even if the Doctor did most of the job.
- “Uh, yes problem?” The Doctor came into the room, clothes changed and face white. “There’s... there’s people... white suits... outside... secret police?? Government agents?? Oh god...”
- Unconsciously, Jason tugged Dani closer.
- Then, Jason took out a domino mask from his leather jacket and an extra rebreather, throwing it to the Doctor. “Put that on, Doc. We can’t have them knowing your face when we make our escape.”
- The Doctor scrambled to put it on. 
- Jason turned to Dani. “Get Danny and turn invisible like you did before.”
- “Uh, I can turn all of us invisible and get us to the car if you guys hold on to me,” she said.
- Jason blinked beneath his Red Hood helmet. “You... could do that?”
- Dani blushed in embarrassment while nodding. “I was panicking when they first showed up, okay?! I could fly us to the car as fast as I can, but they’ll still be able to track us...”
- Jason nodded. He turned to Danny, who was now being carried by the Doctor. “I got ‘im,” he whispered, eyes wide in fear and knees trembling. Jason really doesn’t want him carrying Danny since Dani did just fine earlier, but he also didn’t know how much concentration she needs to bring all of them out.
- Jason went into the kitchen and opened the gas tank connected to the stove. Then, he and the Doctor walked close to Dani.
- She grabbed onto the back of their shirts, and turned them invisible. Thankfully, he could make out the outline of Dani floating them in the room.
- Also, the Doctor was screaming like a banshee. A panicking banshee.
- “WOULD YOU PLEASE STOP?!?!?” Dani yelled.
- “I’M TRYING!!!”
- “Would my gun work through the invisibility?”
- “We’re not intangible yet, so... I think so?”
- That shut the Doctor up.
- The smell of gas was getting strong.
- “Let’s get outta here,” said Dani. And tuned them intangible, and---- holy shit. Jason couldn’t feel his insides... or his outsides... or anything from his body. He felt... nothing. Not even floaty or light. It was as if he didn’t exist. They fazed through so many walls until they made it out of the house.
- But just as they made it out, the men in white’s gadget started beeping like crazy again.
- “They’re close!”
- “Find them!”
- Thank God the Doctor was quiet.
- Jason watched as they were floated into the car. Jason lost his intangibility and invisibility first, being dropped into the driver’s seat. The Doctor was dropped in the backseat with Danny, and Dani sat in the passenger’s.
- “Put your seatbelt on.”
- Dani looked incredulously at him.
- The Doctor did as Jason told, wrapping one around Danny as well as he laid in the back with them.
- “They’re over there!!” one of the men in white yelled.
- Some blasters were shooting at them now, and the Doctor rightfully screamed again.
- Jason started the car, then took out his gun and shot at one of the blasters.
- The blaster was about to go off, and its shot was redirected to the window of the house.
BOOM!
- While the men in white ducked for cover, away from the explosion, Jason drove away, increasing his speed.
- But no matter how fast he was going, trying to get away, the men in white were chasing after them again in their vans, installed blasters getting out and ready to shoot them again. God, they’re annoying.
- “I... I could blast them too!”
- There’s too many of them. 5 vans, plowing through the trees with their comically giant blasters. One was moving forward.
- He turned to Dani. “Try to make the one in front turn around just as they’re about to launch a blast. It’ll hit the other vans.”
- Dani nodded and fazed through the top of the car, hands glowing green. Just as she left, Jason could see form the rearview mirror how Dani transforms. Although the dark of the night made it unclear in a few places, he could clearly see her hair turning white and clothes changing. He couldn’t see her face as she was faced towards their pursuers. 
- Her hands then let out a long green blast towards the van. Just as Jason said, the van flipped, it’s blasters hitting the other two vans behind it. Dani then sent another blast to the other vans, but it was unsuccessful, learning immediately from the first van that was attacked.
- Dani came back into the Hoodmobile (Jason still hates the name, but there really isn’t other name to call it), sitting in the passenger seat and buckling up once more. “What do we do now?”
- They were heading towards Brown Bridge, just past that is China Town, into GCPD territory. If he could just get into the abandoned sections, he’ll be able to get into Red Robin’s patrol route. The techy Robin would be able to fry their devices just as well as Oracle. 
- Only a few Gothamites brave travelling at night, but the streets are mostly empty, thankfully. No civilian will be involved in this crazy chase.
- “We’re heading into one of my brothers’ territories,” he said.
- The Doctor squeaked. “The Demon one???”
- “No,” said Jason.
- “You have a Demon for a brother?” Dani asked, eyes looking excited.
- “He might as well be one,” said Jason, increasing his speed once more. 
- He passed by a GCPD patrol car, but the driver didn’t chase after him after seeing two vans with massive weapons of mass destruction driving past him. Like the good, corrupt officer he was, he deleted the footage of what he had just seen from his police cameras attached to his person and car.
- Finally, Jason was driving through the abandoned warehouse district of Chinatown. Then, Jason activated his comms. “Red Hood to Red Robin, where the fuck are you?”
- “Red Robin to Red Hood, fuck you, too.”
- “Listen kid, there are some shitheads in white chasing after me. Have you heard from O?”
- “We tried hacking into their systems once they fixed it. No progress. Need me to fry their systems again?”
- “As much as possible. Where’s your nearest safehouse? One that could cover the biological-traces of someone.”
- “Including the post-mortem traces of someone?”
- “Fuck, Replacement, you got something like that? Should I be worried? How many bodies are you hiding??”
- “Hardy-har-har, Hood,” said Red Robin. “They upgraded their coding to avoid being hacked and frying their servers again. Can you hold out for 5 minutes?”
- “3 minutes, Double-R. They brought more of their buddies-- SHIT!!” Jason swerved the car to avoid hitting a pole, entering a warehouse and breaking through the old, wooden walls. “Make it 1 minute! They’re fucking multiplying!”
- “Oh shit! Hood! Look out!” the Doctor screamed, pointing to the biggest blaster Jason’s ever seen.
- Fucking hell. Jason turned to Dani, who was looking at the blaster with wide eyes and a panicked look on her face. “I... I can..” She was panicking, trying to think up of things to do to make the situation better, but Jason is NOT going to let her to anything. She did enough. It’s Jason’s job to take care of her and her brother/cousin right now. (And the Doctor, but that man is the least of his priorities. Sorry, Doc.)
- “I’m almost done, Hood!”
- A stray blast hit the already, severely dented hood of Jason’s car, knocking it off to show its engine. Shitshitshit... He unbuckled his seatbelt, to which Dani and the Doctor followed. ”Red! You done yet?!” he yelled into the comms.
- Red Robin didn’t answer. 
- Instead, Jason watched as the vans exploded. 
- Jason leaned towards Dani, covering her view before she could see the guts and limbs fly.
- “Shit... I didn’t mean to do that...” Red Robin said on the comms, voice trembling. “I didn’t...”
- Turning to Dani, her face was frozen. “They... they’re...”
- “Hey, hey, hey... it’s okay... it’s alright,” whispered Jason, taking her into his arms. He thought he managed to hide her from the deaths.
- She shook her head. “I... I could feel their souls leaving... I could feel... they’re scared... others are angry... They’re...”
- Well, shit.
- “Let’s get somewhere safe, yeah?” said Jason. 
- Dani only nodded, most likely numb and dissociating. Great. Trauma. Okay. Fantastic. Fuck.
- “Red Robin, you still there?” asked Jason.
- “I... yeah. I’m here.”
- Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck. Okay, Jason. You need to be the voice of reason for a whole bunch of traumatized kids right now. Okay. 
- “Double R? Where’s the safehouse and how far is it?” Jason asked.
- “It’s in Upper West Side, right along Schnapp Avenue. There’s an abandoned bookstore there. It’s right above there. The walls are covered with everything you need to cover you.”
- “Okay, we’ll meet up with you there.”
- “I... I’m going, too?”
- Jason wanted to sigh, run a hand down his face, or even punch one of the dead guys that were chasing after them. But he answered, “Yeah, kid. You have any chocolate in there?”
- “Agent A stocks up my safehouses himself.”
- “Good. I really do have everything I need there, then. I’m also bringing along some guests, ‘cause I’m not the only one these bastards are after.”
- Red Robin was quiet.
- “Kids, one who looks younger than the Demon Brat, and the other looks younger than you... and some Doctor that got involved in all this.”
- “Shit...” Red Robin whispered. “Did they...”
- “See? No.” Jason’s not going to tell him that Dani felt the deaths, tho. “I’ll be there in 15 minutes, Red.”
- It was quiet.
- “Red?”
- “Y-yeah... okay. I’ll... I’ll be there, Hood.” Click. Red Robin was no longer on the comms.
- Well... Shit.
*****
<<PREVIOUS (Masterlist) NEXT>>
1K notes · View notes
denaliwrites · 4 months
Text
The Future Ex Mrs. Malcolm
Tumblr media
Ian Malcolm x Fem!Reader
Catch and Release Prompt: "Service"
Summary: (18+) You weren't quite sure how the chaotician became famous, but you were starting to see how he got his reputation.
Requests: Open!
Warnings: Excessive use of filler words. Oral (f receiving). Age gap (only mentioned).
You were pretty sure, from the moment you first saw him, that Ian Malcolm was famous. Did you know who he was or why he was famous? Of course not. He just had an air of superiority about him that only came from spending an extended period of time in the spotlight.
Well, a spotlight, at least.
You later found out that his claim to fame had something to do with math and chaos -- he'd been all too eager to explain it to you, but to be honest, anything to do with numbers slid right off your brain, and his pretty smile didn't really do your retention capabilities any favors.
You first met him when he brought his perfectly ordinary, if a bit "Hot Rod"-esque, car into your dad's shop to be serviced. While he waited for your dad to finish fixing up the car, the two of you talked.
Well, more accurately, you flirted shamelessly with no parent hovering menacingly over your shoulders.
You rather enjoyed the flirtatious attention of the older man, and you suspected he probably liked the equally flirtatious attention of a younger woman.
The next time you saw him, he had a different car. It was new, but only in the sense of whose hand it'd most recently fallen into. It was certainly older in every other way, maybe as old as Ian himself, though none of the previous owners had taken good care of it. The shell was rusted, parts were damaged or missing, and the seats almost certainly had blood in them.
Fixing it was going to be a multi-visit affair.
And that was how you found yourself being serviced by Ian behind your dad's car service shop.
It'd started like any of his other visits. This was his sixth, overall, and the two of you were emboldened by the idea that your father hadn't caught on yet --
Well, you were emboldened. You were pretty sure Ian didn't need a reason to be, he was just like that naturally.
He'd come to your counter, as he always did, to buy a Surge he never actually drank. He'd flirted, as he always did, and you flirted right back, as you always did.
You mentioned taking a break, and he mentioned needing some air.
His Surge was left forgotten on the counter as he made his way out the back door. You followed behind five minutes later and found him waiting for you in a shaded corner where no one would see the two of you.
His eyes feasted eagerly over your legs, bare but for your upper thighs, though they were shielded only by the loose skirt of your sundress.
"Those, uh, go on for days, don't they?" he asked as he stepped nearer. Before you could respond, he swept you into his arms, and you couldn't help but notice that you seemed to naturally fit together, like puzzle pieces.
"I, uh, always wondered... what your, uh. Legs. Looked like," he continued as you were pressed to the wall and his mouth landed hot and heavy on your bare shoulder. "Could never really, you know, see them. While you were, uh, behind the counter."
You whimpered as his lips trailed down your arm a few inches, his heated breath leaving goosebumps as it dissipated over your skin and left only a cool reminder that he'd been there. "I-Ian," you gasped, a hand reaching up to weave into his curls. You tugged down, and he easily let you pull him away from you.
The smirk he shot you had you all but melting, and the growl that accompanied it had you all but quaking.
"Hey, uh, you're the one in control here," he said, though the smirk he wore made you think maybe he was the one that was really in control, he just happened to not mind much what he ended up doing with you, so he could afford to let you have the illusion of control.
Not that you minded, much. Either way, you were getting yours.
"Do whatever you want," you told him.
His smirk grew just a touch wicked at that. "That's a, uh, dangerous invitation," he said carefully, though you could hear the arousal choking his voice even so, "be careful you don't let any, um... vampires... in."
"Are you a vampire?" you asked.
"Maybe," he answered simply, before his lips were back on you, trailing ever downward until he was on his knees before you. "Oh, this is much better."
His breath teased your inner thigh, eliciting another whimper from you. Hearing the effect he had on you only made him do it more, and soon all you could do was whine desperately.
"Pretty, uh, sensitive?" he asked. All you could do was nod in response and gasp as you felt, more than heard, the dark chuckle that emanated from his throat.
He moved on, his hands splaying over your thighs and fingers digging in as his mouth moved over the tender flesh, all but worshipping you as he delicately lifted your left leg up and over his shoulder to lay gracefully across his back.
He had nearly perfect access to you, now, though your panties obscured his view. He didn't seem bothered, though, as his face disappeared under your skirt.
A moment later, you felt a finger gently brushing the cloth aside. You whined as it inevitably made contact with your slit, hips rolling eagerly for more.
"Ah, ah," he tutted, breath dancing over your slit drawing forth a moan. His growling chuckle only made you moan again. "Good girl," he said in amusement, his hands returning to your thighs to rub them comfortingly.
He gave the thick meat of your thighs a squeeze, and then you felt his hot mouth on you -- you choked back a yelp as his tongue teased at your clit, circling it a few times and flicking against it once.
To keep yourself quiet, you bit down on a curled finger, and to keep yourself grounded, you buried your other hand in Ian's curls.
This only seemed to egg him on. His tongue swiped swiftly down your slit and plunged into your cunt. Your teeth sank into your finger and the squeal that would've otherwise sounded instead died in your throat.
A breezy chuckle rolled over your clit as Ian drew back to lave attention on it. Your hips rolled in response, which only made him chuckle more.
You could feel your insides starting to coil, could feel the desperation building. Ian seemed to sense it too, as his ministrations became quicker and more precise. Every breath, every flick of his tongue and touch of his lips, had shifted from teasing to drawing out your orgasm.
You wanted to scream as one last lap of his tongue from hole to clit finally brought you over the edge, but you bit it down, even as his tongue continued to circle your little nub to ease you through the high.
To compensate for your inability to scream your pleasure, you tightened your leg draped over Ian's back, drawing him in deeper to your core. He didn't seem to mind, even as he found his mouth fuller than he anticipated, if the grin you could feel was anything to go by.
Gradually, and with Ian's expert guidance,, you came down. You panted and sagged against the wall once the post-orgasm fog drifted in, and Ian carefully eased your leg down so that he could stand and offer you support.
You could see your slick shimmering on his lips and mindlessly pulled him into a kiss. He eagerly returned it, hands holding you tightly to keep you close.
"Would you, uh... marry me?" Ian asked in a low whisper, his eyes meeting yours.
"Bit quick, isn't it?" you replied, though you were grinning.
He returned the gesture. "I, uh. Never was one for... moderation."
You were about to answer, but then you heard your father calling for you. You shot Ian an amused glance. "Guess you'll have to come back to get my answer."
"I. I, uh. Look forward to it?"
"Maybe you should come back with a ring. Just in case."
37 notes · View notes
thefrsers · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
405 notes · View notes
ssamorganhotchner · 2 years
Text
how i can read some of the filthiest, dirtiest smut in my life with a straight face, but the moment i'm reading a fic & aaron openly flirts with the reader i blush and giggle like a schoolgirl?? the moment he notices her checking him out and he confronts her? i - i am so red!!! someone help me understand :')
117 notes · View notes
ittydoor · 1 year
Text
*cough* liar
Tumblr media
47 notes · View notes
maddy-ferguson · 4 days
Text
fun fact about me: i'm insecure about so many random things that i've never flipped anyone off in my 22 years of life because i think my middle finger looks awkward and ugly by itself
#and like i say: brf slt#i felt like this especially when i would have been likely to do it semi-regularly like in middle school. but like i was thinking about this#the other day and i did it in front of a mirror just to check and it looked as bad as i remember like it's just not for me#i have a story abour middle fingers though or just about what one would call the finger#when i was in what an american would call the 5th grade (i can never do when i was x years old because it's not an accurate representation#of the class i was in since i skipped a grade and the grade is what matters more to me. when i was 9 and my friends were 10 i was saying)#we would always play this game called girls catch guys or guys catch girls where the girls would run after the guys and like tap them on#the shoulder and then they would go to prison and they would line up and another guy could set them free by like touching one of the#prisoners it was a very fun game except it's way more fun to be like the ones getting caught than to be the ones catching and we would#ALWAYS play girls catching guys and it was very unfair we would be like okay in the morning we do guys catching girls in the afternoon#girls catching guys so it's fair like normal system but the guys NEVER wanted to do it (and we would always give in because like we still#wanted to play ig and idk guys. female socialization) they never wanted to be the ones doing the catching it was so unfair because we also#didn't like it as much and we did it all the time?#and i remember this one morning we were fighting about this we had literally all agreed that it was fair this way but they didn't want to#do it and my second best male friend flipped me and my best (female) friend off and (very#important detail) he did it with both of his hands so like two middle fingers and i don't know why because i'm not even sure that that's a#thing but one middle finger meant fuck you and two middle fingers meant go fuck yourself and to us that was very different? and i remember#my friend and i we like knew what it meant but for some reason we were like. he did do the one finger before doing the two does this mean#he...loves us because it literally means he wants to have sex with us#but what's funny is we never talked to him again after that and i don't even know why that was our last straw because i remember i#genuinely liked him before that like i said he was my second best male friend! so like maybe sixth best friend overall that's not bad#and he's not the only guy friend who flipped us off that year like it was so random to stop talking to him after that😭#like he was an actual enemy we really did not like him we talked about him in letters we'd give each other using a nickname etc#and what's even funnier is in our last year of middle schoold FOUR YEARS AFTER THIS a friend of a friend told him he should become friends#with well my friend and he was like hm i don't think so have you seen who she hangs out with? marianne *last name* like why do YOU hate#me😭 it was so funny like wdym it was mutual this whole time. i had literally moved on by then i didn't even care about hating him#anymore like wow...i think he's the only person i hated who actually hated me back
5 notes · View notes
scorpionwins · 2 years
Text
i love writing my mechanic sweet pea and illegal races 60s au despite knowing NOTHING abt cars
. all I KNOW is that Cheryl is definetly a secret racer and her devil red Chevrolet makes these boys eat dust
#she goes by cherry dynamite and no one catches on#it's truly a sight to see#pin up model! jug def suspects it. who does he talk to abt this? why. his brand new scarlet haired rich bestie ofc#toni be DROOLIN. but there's the understandable fright of... oh no... i may like men...#archie's a whole lana del rey song ofc. off to the races gave me ALL the older! racer! archie and rich preppy wild child! veronica feels#sweet pea thinks it's super annoying the guy in HIS magazines ( because althought they butt heads. you can't tell me sweet pea doesn't drool#every night all over his pin up magazine with jughead posing. you can't. ) apparently finds andrews more interesting than him. he slows#car repairs on purpose ofc. jug is so huffy and puffy. such a brat. he HAS to be at this photoshoot. there's LOTS of money involved.#sweet pea rolls his eyes - ofc that's all it is abt. REAL jobs take longer. i don't get paid to look pretty.#unlike OTHERS. and jughead should be furious. should be stimming from the inside out bc HE is the breadwinner in his family. JB depends#on HIM but ofc this divine specimen of annoyingness won't consider that. however. '' did you just... call me pretty?''#sweet pea's cheeks roast as embarassment sets fire to his cheeks. but he rolls his eyes and turns his back - overalls locked taut tight#around his waist and says the car is ready in a week. completely unaware of jughead's laser focused haze over his gleaming shoulders - wet#with sweat. white highlights sculpting hard planes and muscle. jug has a little room in a hoel and isn't seen for a day of two#he does very naughty things in the meantime#off to the races au#riverdale#sweet pea#sweet pea x reader#cheryl blossom#jughead jones#jugpea#choni#varchie#text#rambling
56 notes · View notes
runawaymun · 1 year
Note
Why would you reblog x reader hate? 😭 I hate how everybody is shitting on the genre. Everyone is always "don't like don't read UwU" but reader fics seem to be the exception. It's totally fine to hate on these fics and no one cares.
Sorry, I know you probably didn't mean it in such a way, but I'm just so sick and tired of all the hate all the time. 😔
No I get it!
I didn't really see the post as x reader hate since it's a joke tbh? It made me laugh and I resonate with it. I participate in x reader. I love writing it especially because I love the opportunity to just absolutely love on someone and make their day and offer them that little personal escape that is very particular/unique to the x reader genre, but I personally don't really ever see myself in x reader fics that other people write and so I don't read much of it. So the joke of "I would not act like that" gave me a chuckle bc it's true. I'm the kind of person where if a fanfic feels out of character to me (even if it's y/n that feels out of character adslkgh) it's literally unreadable. So yeah, I tend not to read it or request it myself very much.
I don't think it's meant to be genuine x reader hate and I get the frustration because I, too, get really annoyed with x reader hate. I just do not care if people think it's cringe. Writing self-insert fanfic literally saved my life when I was a teenager when I was in a bad home situation & dealing with undiagnosed mental illness and undiagnosed/ignored chronic illness and needed an escape. Which is why I love writing it for others now as an adult <3
7 notes · View notes
krowscrawl · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
The wind was cold, but Peter laughed and at Judas’ glance he opened his hand, revealing a small round pebble. (Judas blinked, and Peter was that young man once more, the callow country fisherman with the rough hands and a laugh like the sun.)
— the names of grass, by notbecauseofvictories
11 notes · View notes
bokatan · 4 months
Note
plots please for Sweetjane x Reed? Hier sind Bredeles.
[ prompt ]
I’m lowkey obsessed with these little slice of life type ideas during their Shack Mission™ where they’re just ghosting around their feelings and pretending like they don’t have anything going on. I want to write like 500 of them. They just have a really fun dynamic and it’s nice letting them be vaguely domestic in a nice quiet place for a while instead of just being on the road 24/7
On the flip side: I really like their dynamic during missions too & really want to let them go out and do things more often. What I really want to do is put them in a situation where they both get to play with knives. I think Reed would be really freaked out by her knife throwing abilities considering she has nystagmus, & I think it’d be really fun to let Reed act a bit feral with his dagger that he basically never uses. It’d eventually lead into the older idea I’ve been sitting on for a while where he gives Sweetjane his dagger as some sort of parting gift or something in line with that- basically it’s used like a max affinity gift from a companion, like how you get the wooden soldier from MacCready when his affinity’s maxed out.
I don’t even know if this counts as a plot, but: spicy writing idea for these two, with Mercy involved in some manner, inspired by some fun lyrics from one of the songs on their playlist. It’s like a whole side thing that Mercy has going with Reed and she’d probably want to try and share it with Sweetjane for fun
Tumblr media
1 note · View note
dunmer-pussy · 11 months
Text
tbh a lot of the drama surrounding cayde fans are either people who have a genuine concern w/ the very vocal and VERY horrible side (which is 1000% valid and do not for a moment take this post as me saying otherwise) or like. rebranded cringe culture.
like is that person a genuinely horrible person or do they just do things (make ocs, ship w/ cayde, make fankids, etc) that you consider "cringe" and are therefore offended by and need to justify things to yourself instead of just quietly admitting to yourself it's Not Your Thing and moving on. was and still is an issue in the transformers community and I think pretty much every other fandom
where a lot of the problems people have are either someone is genuinely a terrible person OR they're just """""cringe."""" and I hate how most of the time I see that it's the latter rather than the former.
3 notes · View notes
gojonanami · 4 months
Text
❝ 𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐄𝐌𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐘! ❞
Tumblr media
❝ COME ON, FUCK ME, EMO BOY!! ❞
Tumblr media
✧ pairing: emo boy! choso kamo x f!reader ✧ summary: saw this boy at the mall last week. got the kind of look to make me freak. wanna fuck in the back of the hot topic? ✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, emo boy! choso, sex toys (vibrators, clit sucker), multiple orgasms, semi-exhibitionism, public sex (sex in the back of hot topic, sex in a changing room), fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), big dick choso (but honey, that dick was 11 inches), also mahito + yuji make appearances, art by @/SS_utr3n. ✧ wc: 5.3K
Tumblr media
It had been a while since you had stepped into a Hot Topic (a while meaning three days or three years, take your pick). But this had been the third time this week you had been to this specific Hot Topic, and now you were sure the manager of the place had your badly taken picture and description scrawled in some notebook as a potential shoplifter. 
But it wasn’t the merchandise you were looking to pick up. 
It was him. 
You saw him when you were browsing the clearance rack, knelt down, evaluating whether you needed another blind box item that will inevitably not contain the character you were looking for (but on the plus side, it was on sale?), when you heard a deep voice speak. 
“Excuse me,” you glance up as you spot him — and you swear your breath gets stuck somewhere between your windpipe and your lungs, because you don’t breathe while this man kneels down next to you to place more items on clearance. Spiky black locks tied up messily on either side, fringe bangs falling in front of his face as he bent down, a tattoo across the bridge of his nose and was that — dark purple eyeshadow around his eyes — and his eyes — god, his eyes were gorgeous, a deep dark brown — and you swore, was that a hint of purple in his irises? 
He was everything that your teen self had wanted — the same guys whose profiles you had looked at growing up and thought were so hot. You caught a glance at the My Chemical Romance t-shirt as he stood, in black jeans, as he catches you staring, “Can I help you find something?” His tone was casual, but he was curious — probably curious why you were staring at him with wide-eyed saucers. 
“No, no, sorry, I—” no, don’t tell the hot Hot topic worker that he is hot — first of all its confusing, second of all— “I just wanted to say, I like your t-shirt,” 
Fuck. out of all the things to say — I like your style, I like your fit, I like your hair — you had to pick the most generic ass comment. 
He only nods, but you catch the barest upward twitch of the corner of his lip, “thanks,” 
And that’s all it took — you now needed to see him smile. 
Over the next few days innocently shopping at Hot Topic, you find out his name is Choso from one of the other workers, Mahito, calling his name. His hair is usually in those buns, but one of the days his hair was down, and you heard him complain that his hair ties had snapped. 
And his hair looked so good down, his long inky locks fell past his shoulders, but this was your chance to talk to him — “i have some extra hair ties, if you want them,” you offer him a few hair ties, “I overheard you talking with the other worker, I hope you don’t mind,” 
And he shakes his head, his lips quirked in that almost smile that makes your heart squeeze. 
Fuck. 
“Not at all, thank you,’ and his fingers brush yours as he takes the hair ties, and you turn to leave, but his voice stops you, “what was your name? I didn’t catch it last time,” 
You tell him, smiling, “Your name is Choso, right? I saw it on your nametag,” and he’s biting his lip, tilting his head in question, as you flush, cheeks burning, “I’ve noticed you a couple times when I’ve come in— not in a weird way, I just—” 
“I’ve noticed you too,” and finally he’s smiling — and you know he’s got you, you know you’re fucked. 
And you do get fucked — in the back of Hot Topic during his break. 
It had been a few weeks of you two talking and flirting, until finally, during his break he’s got you snuck into the back to show you the merchandise they haven’t put out yet. And you scoff when you come across a bullet vibrator, “you guys sell these?” 
He shrugs, “They started to in the last few years, not a lot. They don’t want the parents to become too outraged, but just enough,” And you snort, turning the bullet over in your fingers curiously, “have you never used one before?” 
And your cheeks burn, as you bite your lip, “No I never have,” and the next question stumbles out as a joke, “why? Wanna help me learn?” And you want to bite your tongue, but you’re too busy with the foot in your mouth to do so, and before you can apologize he speaks. 
“I would,” 
And your eyes snap to his, and you realize how close he’s standing, his eyes not filled with humor but something else — lust? — and his lips curled in a small smile. 
Fuck. 
“You’re gonna have to be a little quieter, love,” he’s murmuring in your ear, pressing kisses to your neck, as you’re pressed between his firm chest and the metal storage rack, fingers laced as you held on, the vibration between your thighs the only thing ringing in your ears. 
But how can you be quiet? 
The bullet vibrator is pressed right against your clit, and his thick fingers are parting your folds, so close to sinking into you, his deep voice whispering in your ear, hot breath against your neck. 
And the coil in your stomach is only growing tighter and tighter, and your squeals only grow more and more insistent. His fingers sunk into your mouth, “suck,” he ordered, and your cunt twitches at the demand, as you do, sucking and licking messily on his fingers, “good girl,” 
And he clicks the button of the vibrator again, increasing the vibration, making your eyes widen, a gasp around his fingers, “so responsive,” he groans, as your legs grow weak, and he’s stepping forward to steady you, but it also settles his dick between your ass. 
He’s huge. 
The bulge presses into you, drawing a hiss from his lips as you lean back against it, “Trying to tease me, sweetheart?” And he’s pulling his fingers from his mouth, a string of spit connecting from his fingers to your lips, “don’t forget who’s teaching you,” and he sinks his spit soaked fingers into your needy cunt, making your back arch into his body, “so tight, despite the vibrator,” he hums.
“Choso, please—” and he starts to fuck his fingers in and out, the squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears mixing with the buzz of the vibrator — you’re already so close, “I'm—” 
“Cum for me,” he’s grunting, as his fingers reach even deeper inside you, dragging against your walls as he curls them, finding that one spot that has you seeing stars. And your moan as you cum is stifled against your own palm, as he only maxes out the vibration and fucks you through your orgasm, “one more for me, pretty, you can do it,” 
“No, no, Choso, please too much, can’t—” and he only presses sweet kisses to your neck, and how are you already close — you just had orgasmed, but the coil in your stomach is growing tighter by the second, and you’re nearly crying when you cum again, your slick dripping down his fingers and the vibrator as he eases it from you, and then splatters onto the dirty tile floor of the backroom of Hot Topic.
“Good girl,” he murmurs as he’s tilting your head back and around for a kiss. And you catch a glimpse of the glint of your release on his black painted nails as he presses the pads into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his digits and sucking them clean, “that’s it, clean up your mess f’me,” and his other hand is wiping the tears from your eyes, “so pretty when you cry — can’t wait to make you do it again.”
Your cunt twitches at the thought, your cum still dripping down your thighs, “Again?” and he’s pressing another sinful kiss to your lips, “You didn’t think this would be our only lesson, did you?” 
And it wasn’t — the next lesson was spent in the fitting rooms, during a particular dead early afternoon in the store — and he had you spread on the fitting room bench, your black jeans pulled down to your ankles, as his head found its way between your thighs. You could barely hold back your whimpers as he pressed all too hot kisses to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, burning already with his warm breath. It was too much. 
He was too much. 
“How’s that feel?” dark eyes flicking up to meet yours, half lidded with lust, as he watches your panting face, your head against the wall of the fitting room, “use your words, love,” 
“Too good, Cho-so,” the last syllable of his names escapes your lips in a gasp, as your cunt twitches as his lithe fingers tease you through the soaked material of your panties, “please, please, need you,” 
“What do you need?” and his fingers pull away, as his lips press a kiss to your puffy clit, pulling a whine from you, “what do you want me to do?” 
“Please, just—” and he’s tugging your panties aside, cool air rushing over your all too hot pussy, “please just touch me — with your fingers or mouth—” 
And his tongue drags over your messy cunt, and god, it feels too good — but a twinge makes you pause, and when you feel it draw a circle around your clit, you realize what it is — he has a tongue piercing. Your fingers thread their way in his black locks, resisting the urge to grab at his hair buns. 
He grunts, vibrations against your wet cunt, as you pull him impossibly closer to where you needed him most, his nose bumping against your clit, “you smell so good — how’s that possible?” and your eyes squeeze shut as his hands press your thighs further apart. 
That’s when you both hear the click of the entrance, and the door swinging shut — shit, the door — he forgot to lock it. Forgot when you had pulled him into a kiss right when he was ready to take a lunch break, all other thoughts had flown out of his brain once he let those doors swing shut and your lips had met his — well, left his brain and flooded southward. He also didn’t think a customer would be persistent enough to try the door and wander in when the doors were shut and the closed sign was hung up. 
“Choso, should we—” and the footsteps draw closer — and fuck — did you get wetter? And tighter — his moan is muffled against your walls, “Choso, stop, we—” 
“You don’t mean that,” he whispers, dark, half lidded eyes look up at you, your essence and his spit soaking his lips and dripping down his chin. And the footsteps are receding, the sounds of the shuffling and clinking of clothes hangers on racks in the distance, but all you can hear are the sounds of the wet, needy squelch of your cunt, “you aren’t being honest — but you are down here,” and his lips find your clit, sucking lightly, making your head jerk back, “want them to know how good I make you feel,” his lips leave your clit with a small pop, before murmuring against the soft skin of your thigh, “be quiet for me, baby,” and his tongue slips back into your cunt. 
He’s nearly slurping your juices up, his tongue tasting every inch of you, deliciously dragging against your twitching walls with his piercing, as your toes curl and your mouth parts in a muffled moan, one hand clamped over your mouth, and the other digging into his scalp. How could the person not hear you? How couldn’t they hear the wet squelch of your cunt as Choso fucked it with his tongue? How couldn’t they hear your badly swallowed moans and the sounds of your heart pounding out of your chest — and if they did, they certainly didn’t care enough to stop browsing through the fucking store. 
And you’re close, so fucking close, and you don’t hear the footsteps drawing close to the fitting rooms because your ears only can hear the wet suck of his mouth against your clit or the press of his tongue in and out of your folds, your thighs twitching under his grasp, fingers pressed into your flesh, “Choso, I’m so—” 
“Cum f’me, need to feel you cum around my tongue,” he sucks on your clit hard, teeth grazing the sensitive spot, and you cum, hard, your hand forsaking your lips to find purchase on his head, squirting all over his face as you did, soaking him along with the bench of the fitting room. And you can’t help the whimpers and moans that left your lips, as he lapped up your release without a care. 
And you slump against the wall of the fitting room, body still buzzing from your orgasm, as he finally pulls his tongue out, glancing up at you. Your chest heaves as you watch him lick your cum from his lips and chin, before wiping the rest away, and your eyes drift downward to the erection he was palming. And your fingers unconsciously reach for it, when your hear a door slam shut making your both jump. 
You cover your mouth — the customer, and Choso’s eyes meets yours, as the two of you break out in a laugh, “Fucking lock the door next time,” you sigh, covering your burning face with your hands, as Choso chuckles, lips curled in a smile.
“So there’s going to be a next time?” he tilts his head, and you flush. 
How could he go from eating you out like a desperate man without water to this innocent puppy? “Not if you don’t lock the door,” 
“It’s their fault for coming in when the doors were closed and there was a sign that said closed in big letters on the door,” and you shake your head, as he draws closer, “now, I have twenty minutes of lunch left — so where were we?” 
And you push him towards the changing room door, “Go lock the door first,” and he relents, chuckling. 
“Just for that, I’m going to look for the clit sucker I couldn’t find before.” 
~~~~
The two of you had fallen into a pattern. 
And you had become a regular at Hot Topic. You hung around him as he stocked the shelves, did inventory, price re-labeling, and even as he spoke to customers. You watched other customers speak to Choso, even flirt with him, but he never cracked a smile. Two girls were very persistent, but they deflated as he walked away after answering their questions, brushing past you, his hand brushing against your ass discreetly. Heat rushes to your cheeks, your head snapping to him as his lips curl when your eyes catch his gaze. But even so…
You still were just as clueless of where you stood with him as you were when this started. 
“You two have been pretty hot and heavy lately, huh?” you nearly jump out of your skin, as Mahito smiles knowingly at you, leaning against the counter with a shiteating grin. 
“What are you—” 
“Please, like we don’t know what goes on in the back during breaks?” he raises an eyebrow, as you bite your lip, “plus, never have I seen that gloomy guy smile, much less as much he does with you,” 
“Really?” your eyes find him again, as he crouches and lines up blind boxes on one of the shelves — but you can’t help the nagging question circling in the back of your mind — why hasn’t he asked you out yet? The two of you have hooked up, in and out of the store, but he still hadn’t asked you on a date. Even in the last few weeks, the two of you hadn’t even spent any real time together, except for your visits to the store -- he hasn't even taken you into the back. For all you know, you’re one of many people he’s bedding. Even if he doesn’t seem the type. 
“What? Trouble in paradise?” Mahito pulls you from your thoughts, head tilted and all too eager, “what’s wrong?” 
“No, it’s—“ he cuts you off with a look, and you relent with a slight pout, “he just hasn’t asked me out yet, I’m just wondering what he’s thinking—“ 
“Well, I definitely don’t think he’s seeing anyone else,” he hums, “but he does tend to go straight home a lot when you’re not around. Maybe something is going on at home?” And then he’s pushing you towards him, “no time like the present to find out,” 
“Mahito—“ 
“Choso! How about you and your favorite regular go for a quick walk and get us some drinks from the food court?” He grins, offering some money,  “be a doll, won’t you?” 
Choso sighs, “Fine,” and he brushes past you, taking the cash, before glancing back at you, “you coming?” 
You glance between the two of them, before following him out of the store. You both walk in relative silence, slipping past customers, as you reach the food court. Choso orders, paying with the cash Mahito gave, as he passes you one of the drinks, “Choso, can I ask you something?” 
His eyes slide to you, “Of course,” and god, his eyes stop your thoughts in their tracks — he’s so unfairly gorgeous, funny, sweet — you didn’t want to screw this up. You open your mouth to speak when you hear a voice. 
“Big bro, that you?” A rush of pink hair and energy is wrapped around Choso all of a sudden, “I didn’t think you got off until later,” it’s a teen boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen, his arm wrapped around Choso, and a varsity jacket on — this was Choso’s brother?
Choso cracked his rare smile, “I don’t get off until later, Yuji, but I came to grab a drink for Mahito,” and Yuji’s gaze slides to you. 
“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there,” he smiles a thousand watt smile, “I’m Yuji Itadori, Choso’s brother,” and he’s glancing between you and his brother, before his mouth falls into an ‘o,’ “are you his girlfriend?” 
“Yuji—“ Choso starts, a hint of a blush across his cheeks, as you stifle a laugh, “I thought you said you were going to study at home with Fushiguro.” 
“I wanted to see you when your shift got off — I thought we could have dinner together,” Yuji pouts, and Choso cracks in an instant, his lips curling. 
This boy had his brother wrapped around his finger. 
“Ok, but don’t goof off. Make sure to study,” and Yuji nods. 
“Nice to meet you,” and he leans in to whisper, “treat my brother good, ok?” And you flush, before nodding, as Choso raises an eyebrow, out of earshot. 
“I will,” 
“Cho, tell Mahito to fuck off for me,” and he’s off again, gone as fast as he came.
“Sorry about that,” Choso sighs, still a smile on his lips as he watches his brother in the distance, claiming one of the food court tables for himself and his friend, as he sits down next to a black haired boy, assumedly Fushiguro, “didn’t know Yuji would be here,” 
“I didn’t know you had a brother,” and he bites his lip. 
“It’s relatively new — we’re half brothers, but he just came back into my life. He doesn’t really have any other biological family. His grandfather just passed, and he’s staying with a teacher whose decided to foster him,” the two of you begin to walk back to the store, his gaze fixed downwards at the tacky mall carpeting, “he’s been staying with me for the last few weeks, while his foster father went on a vacation to Malaysia,” 
And now the pieces were clicking into place, “And that’s why you’ve been going home a lot lately,” and his dark eyes find yours with a tilt of his head, “I mean, you just haven’t had a lot of time lately,” you can’t meet his gaze, “it must be a lot to have a teenager staying with you.” 
“Yeah, he eats everything in the house, and he’s staying in my living room, which leaves little in the way of privacy,” and you can still feel the prickle of his gaze on you, “but I could use a break,” and you finally look and see a soft expression on his face, the same insecurity you had reflected in his gaze. 
No time like the present, right?
“Well, should we maybe go on a date?” and his cheeks flush a pretty red, all the way to the tips of his ears, “we’ve done plenty of other things that a couple would do, like—” 
And he’s shaking his head, “I know, I know!” he’s the one who can’t meet your eyes now, chewing his lip, “I’d like that — I get off my shift tonight at eight, I told Yuji we’d hang out, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind postponing—” 
“We can always do it tomorrow, I don’t want to keep you from your brother,” and his lips curl into a smile, “he’s a good kid,” 
“He is,” and his fingers find yours again, “I can tell Mahito that I’ll lock up tonight, and maybe after I do, we could—” 
“Have another lesson?” 
And eight o’clock rolls around far too slow, but Choso definitely isn’t moving slow when it’s only the two of you. 
He’s pulling you into the back again, the door swinging shut behind the two of you, his fingers tight around your wrists as he’s pulling you into a bruising kiss, forcing your lips to part with a gasp, his tongue flicking against yours. The smooth surface of his piercing grazes against your tongue. 
And his fingers find the back of your neck, deepening the kiss impossibly, as his other hand slips down the curves of your body, pulling you against him, his clothed cock brushing against your aching cunt. 
Fuck. You had almost forgotten how big he was. 
And when you hear the zipper of his black jeans, you nearly melt against him, “Choso, please—” 
“I have to get you ready first, love,” his fingers find their way to the front of your jeans and undo the button, tugging the fabric down to your ankles. Cool air raises goosebumps across your skin, the pads of his fingers press against the wet patch of your panties, and he’s groaning, “but maybe I don’t,” 
“Fuck, so wet for me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, as he’s walking you backwards, into one of the racks, his fingers press into the soft flesh of your thighs. And two fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, joining your jeans, pooling around your ankles, “nearly ready now, but I still have to loosen you up,” his fingers tease your outer lips, dripping with your release. 
One of his finger’s slips in with practiced ease, making your hips jolt against his hand, your fingers curling around the metal bars of the rack in front of you. His finger was so much thicker and longer than yours, his digit toyed with your walls, teasing and stretching until he drew a soft groan from your lips. He was the only one who could make you this desperate, his lips pressed against your neck, the heat from his body has your mind reeling with pleasure. 
“Mmm, Choso, more—" and he’s adding another finger inside your still all too tight entrance, making you whimper, as the intrusion is all too much after a few weeks of not having him inside you. 
“So greedy,” he murmurs, the wet squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears, “you’re practically sucking me in, but it’s still not enough for you, is it?” his tongue drags against the outer shell of your ear, his piercing against your skin, before his mouth envelops your earlobe and sucks. 
His fingers are fucking you open, your eyes screwed shut as the tips brush against that spot, heat flooding your body. And you don’t hear the shuffling of his other hand through a box, until you hear the sound of sucking, “Choso—“ and he’s pressing the sucker against your clit, your mouth falling open as pleasure rips up your spine, the sucking sensation with the lewd noises of your pussy being finger fucked is too much. 
You cum all over his hand, your hand clamping over your mouth so no one hears your moans — and your legs quake as you come down from your high, as he eases his fingers from you, “so pretty,” he murmurs, and you can feel his dark, lidded eyes on your drenched cunt, watching your sticky release cling to his fingers, purple painted nails glinting in the low light. 
And he’s leaning forward, kissing down your back, as he turns you around gently, so your back is pressed against the rack. You kick off your underwear and pants. You’re still panting, chest rising and falling as his fingers press to your chin, lifting it so you meet his gaze, as he sucks his fingers clean of your cum. Heat pools again, as his fingers undo the leather belt and he’s tugging his jeans and black boxers down to his knees, his erection springs out, slapping against his stomach. 
Your mouth runs dry. 
Fuck, he’s even bigger than you thought. 
Ten inches? No, maybe eleven. How was that even possible? That shit would break you — but fuck — your cunt twitches — you kind of want it to break you. 
“Like what you see, Princess?” you lick your lips in response, and in a trance, your fingers are reaching for him, curling around the base before you slowly start to pump him. You’re rewarded with a moan, a noise that goes straight to your cunt, as your fingers move faster, trying to find the right rhythm. Pre-cum leaks from the top, as you tease his tip, before stroking back up the length of it. 
And he’s a beautiful mess, his pale features flushed a gorgeous red, as he presses his hand against his mouth so his moans wouldn’t resonate. And his pre-cum drips all over your fingers, slipping down your wrist even, as you lean forward to lick it off your own skin, while you meet his gaze. 
His head lolls back, eyes screwed shut now, and your fingers drift to his sack, stroking and teasing while your lips find the tip, sucking lightly before your tongue drags over the length of his cock. And god, he’s going to blow his load now, if you keep doing that, from the way his hips rock against your touch. 
His fingers weave into your hair, nails digging into your scalp, “Baby, ngh, it’s too good—fuck—” he’s so close, twitching in your mouth as you suck him from tip to base, tracing his slit with the tip of your tongue, “shit, I can’t—” and you suck hard on his cock, massaging his balls, and he’s gone — he’s pumping his cock into your mouth as his cum spurts down your throat, as you swallow it all too greedily. You pull away with a pop, a string of cum and saliva connecting you to his dick still, before you wipe it away. 
He’s leaning against the rack, chest heaving as he watches you with lust blown out eyes, sweat sheen on his face, “Haa, baby, s’good f’me,” and somehow he’s still hard, as you rise to your feet, thighs pressed together, your eyes fixed on his cock, “you don’t have to—” 
And he’s still so sweet — his eyebrows knit together as he’s examining you with concern, but you’re only shaking your head, as you press a sweet kiss to his lips, “I need you, Choso, please,” and he’s nodding, lips meeting yours in a heady kiss that steals your breath, and he’s made you brace yourself against the rack, fingers curled around the cool metal. 
Your folds are exposed to him, slick and dripping, even wetter than before, “You liked sucking me off that much, love?” he murmurs, kissing your neck, before he’s dragging the tip of his cock against your needy cunt, “I’ll go slow,” he assures you, as you nod. 
He’s sinking into you inch by inch — and not even halfway, you already feel like you’re ready to burst, “So big, Choso, I—” and he’s murmuring quiet reassurances, as he’s parting your folds, the pain drawing a gasp from your lips, as he finally bottoms out. 
“S’good, baby, so tight,” he’s moaning, You’re taking deep breaths, pain ebbing with each second that passes. Choso pressing sweet kisses to your neck, his hands slipping under your shirt to tease your perked nipples, mixing pain with pleasure. Tears burn at your tear ducts, as you breathe shaky breaths, and finally pain ebbs away, and pleasure grows in its place.
“S’full, so big,” you pant, growing more needy by the second, he’s reaching places you’d only dreamt of — his leaking tip kissing your cervix, “move, p-please—ah!” 
And he does as you say, pulling ever so slowly out before pushing back in, grunting as he does as your tight cunt adjusts to his size and length — bullying your insides in a way no toy could ever compare to. You swear you can feel every inch, every curve, every vein as he rocks into you. 
“So pretty f’me,” he’s moaning, stifled by his bitten lip, as your walls only seem to pull him back deeper each time he pulls out,  “so perfect, take me so well,” he’s murmuring, as he teases your tits between his thumb and forefinger, “pretty cunt made just for me, isn’t that right, Princess?” 
“Yes, yes, Choso,” and his pace only grows faster, just as his groans grow louder. 
“No one else can fuck you like this, make you feel this good, can’t wait to feel you cummin’ around me,” he’s panting, his fingers tweaking your nipples, squeezing, as he fucks you deeper and deeper, his tip hitting your cervix deliciously again and again, “feels s’good, so wet and warm for me—” his hand comes down on your ass now, making you gasp, your cunt squeezing around him. 
Drool slips from your mouth, as you get closer and closer to cumming — the telltale flutter of your walls, “Choso, I’m coming, I can’t—” 
“Cum for me, let me fill you up,” and his fingers reach around to press a vibrator to your clit, and you’re cumming, falling apart on his cock, as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. The squelch of your cunt and the way you squeeze him has him falling apart, spurting and painting your walls. 
The two of you slump forward, your legs nearly buckling, as you cling to the rack, before he’s easing both of you back onto a bench in the stock room. Your quiet pants fill the silence of the room, as he eases himself out, groaning as you both watch your mixed releases leak out of your cunt. 
“I don’t think I can walk after that,” and he chuckles in your ear, pressing a kiss to your neck. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll carry you,” and you laugh, his favorite noise in the world, as you slowly turn, making him groan as your soaked pussy grinds against his dick. 
“So then you can lift me up when I drop it?” your lips are curled in that same smile that had him hypnotized from the moment he saw it, and he can only reply with a bruising kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth, as you sunk yourself onto his dick again. 
God. He needed to buy you tickets to Warped Tour. 
~~~
The next time you show up to Hot Topic, you weren’t showing up to buy any merchandise. 
“Hey emo boy!” you call out, making Choso turn with a smile on his lips — the one especially reserved for you. 
“Hi baby,” he murmurs, kissing you softly, his arm around your waist, “I’m almost done. I just have to punch out.” 
You lean in, words whispered against his ear, “And then you’re gonna come fuck me?” 
You were picking up your boyfriend. 
He smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist, before kissing you again, “You know I will.” 
Tumblr media
note: i couldn't find who made this incredible art that i used after searching and searching, so if anyone knows, please let me know so i can credit them above in the description. this fic has been a long time coming since that silly blurb i wrote after watching one too many thirst edits of choso. edit: i found the artist: its @/SS_utr3n on twt!!!
tag list: @uroldall, @jlovesfrogs, @existential54321, @staryukis, @samistars, @chosoilysm, @astroholic, @emii4evr, @rose1238, @butterflieskeepcominback, @divinely-yourz, @fishii28, @seresukuin, @misalsmistake, @xkaidaxxxx, @cappric, @famebydefinition, @theatergeek, @sousblogga, @averagelonelypotato, @timesnewreader, @chrvstxl, @darylthekidd, @merelydaydreaming, @notafan77, @naughtygobbo, @smiley-babe, @butterflieskeepcominback, @entirelytoooobsessed, @acenanxious
29K notes · View notes
sttoru · 20 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝝑𝑒 SYNOPSIS. sukuna is shameless—not caring if anyone were to ever catch him righteously claiming ownership over his favorite concubine in the garden.
wc. 1.5k-ish
tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut, pwp. exhibitionism. size difference. dumbification \\ objectification. has two c.ocks. hair pulling. use of spit (yeah ik i wouldnt write for it but its sukuna). breeding themes. overstimulation. reader gets called ‘little girl, slut’. sukuna’s a menace and loves to create drama between his concubines
Tumblr media
“shut up. i don’t care if they’re here or not,” sukuna grunts, tightening his grip on your fleshy thighs as his lower cock slams in and out your sloppy cunt without much thought. the sound of pruning shears cutting off branches is easily overwhelmed by the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin.
you feel sorry for those servants who’re just doing their job tending to the garden. none of them dare to look your way. they’re sweating, eyes solely focused on the branches they’re cutting, acting like they are not hearing the sinful moans and grunts in the distance. if they look, they’re dead. that much is known.
everything is blurry to you. all you can manage to do is let out a string of pleasure filled whines. your body is easily overpowered and held up against the harsh wood of the nearby wall. your thighs are spread in an awfully painful way, your knees up to your chest. quite literally folded in half.
“i said eyes on me, y’ fuckin’ slut,” sukuna barks. he does not have the patience today. you breaking the intense eye contact with him only worsens his mood. one of his veiny hands tug at your hair. the others hold you up—not allowing you to even think of getting back on your feet until your tight cunt is done milking him for what he’s worth.
you gasp and sukuna takes the chance to grab your jaw with yet another free hand. “open y’r mouth,” his hips do not still for even a second. they roll and ground against yours, the surrounding skin near his pelvis stained with your wet juices. he could smell it. just as nasty and dirty as he wants it to be.
you part your lips and keep them like that, not wanting to piss sukuna off even more. he grins at the sight of your red tongue instinctively rolling out like the obedient little girl you are. he spits right into your mouth, “swallow.”
you do so without second thought. the warm liquid trickles down your throat. sukuna watches in satisfaction, drilling into you until your insides are complete mush. you’re drooling over yourself already—clearly having lost control over your rationality.
you sniffle and try to hold onto sukuna’s biceps. your small fingers curl around the shape of them, nails digging into his flesh. every time you think sukuna’s finally letting up, he only increases his inhuman pace. “my l-lord, ‘s too much,” you cry out. your body could only handle so much pleasure before it’d break down. your pussy is convulsing around his girthy cock, feeling his other sliding back and forth over your sensitive clit.
the king of curses shuts you up with a hiss. his bottom set of eyes is focused on the impressive scene of your tiny pussy swallowing his cock so easily. he’s feeling proud of the fact that he’s molded you into the perfect concubine for him and his carnal pleasure.
sukuna has fucked you silly enough times to know how to get you under his spell. his fingers brush over your hard nipples, grabbing the squishy flesh of your tits as they bounce with each of his thrusts. he leans his head down towards yours. his rough, raspy voice makes your body heat up, “no, no. it’s never too much for my little girl, right? she can easily take ‘nother load f’me.”
your breath hitches and sukuna realises it worked. he knows just what to say to manipulate you into giving in. so he can fuck you senseless for how long he wants. you’re a sucker for the fact that he calls you his. that’s what you are—you’re his woman. only his and no one else’s. the claim of ownership makes your pussy clench.
“y-yes, my lord. i can take another, i can,” you breathe out, head swaying from side to side, not mentally able anymore to keep up with sukuna’s intense libido. yet, your body is still active, squeezing around sukuna’s dick as he promised you more of his precious cum.
the king of curses snickers, amused by just how fast you gave in. “that’s what i thought, hah,” he’s realised that his hold on you knows no bounds. you’re his little toy. the only one he wants to ravish these days. and the only one worth of carrying his seed.
you’re still thinking about the way he’s called you ‘his little girl’. it’s driving you closer to the edge. you start to get louder, completely ignoring your inner thoughts that begged you to have some decorum; to try and hide the fact that you’re getting slutted out in the courtyard.
there’s not much hiding it anyway since the servants have a clear understanding of what’s going on behind them. “mghh, please—please need more!” you mewl and sukuna listens. his red eyes darken with desire as you get into it. he loves to experience that lust driven side of yours. a complete opposite to your usual formal and shy self.
“louder, c’mon. let them know i’m fucking you good,” sukuna sneers, enjoying the mind games he is playing with you. you’re too cockdrunk to even notice. the them in his sentence refers to his other concubines. he knows that you’re secretly craving to get revenge on them and show them just how well you get dicked down by him every single day.
unlike them, who rarely get graced by his touch. that is, when you’re unavailable.
you do as told and increase the volume of your erotic moans, letting everyone around the estate know what you’re getting up to. not like anyone could interfere. sukuna wouldn’t dare let them live a second after.
“that’s it, yeah,” the sorcerer grunts and rams his length repeatedly into you, cursing at the way you’re gripping him so tightly. you’re so dripping wet that he slips out of you for a second. he moves his hips, angling them better to slam back inside of you.
however, you’re one step ahead. your shaky hand reaches down between your legs and you quickly guide his tip to your entrance, urging him to push between your moist folds again. “nasty fuckin’ girl,” sukuna scoffs at your desperation, though secretly thrives off it. he switches cocks and shoves the upper one into your cunt.
you gasp. you’re so used to him to the point that you could sense the difference between his dicks. the upper one has more veins and is a tad bit girthier. you hiccup and nearly choke on your own moans and spit from the change of pace and dicks. “ngh, ‘tis so deep, my lord—” you whine loudly and your hands move to hold your breasts, stopping them from painfully jiggling around in every direction.
sukuna hums in content as he continues his rough thrusts. he can feel his balls twitch and clench, ready to shoot his sperm all up in your womb like you deserve. though, he doesn’t want to end this moment too quickly. he wants to extend it.
“c’mere,” sukuna grumbles and stops pounding your poor, aching cunt. he stills his dick inside you and allows you to cling onto his tall stature, lifting you away from the wall. he silently urges you to wrap your legs around his waist so he could carry you.
the robes of your kimono get left behind on the patch of grass near the wall of the main house. there’s a few droplets of white liquid that’s stained the grass, right where sukuna and you were standing at seconds ago.
you don’t think about anything anymore as you babble about how full you felt with his cock all the way in you. the fat tip brushes against your cervix with each step sukuna takes towards his next destination.
“keep talkin’ to me, doll. tell me how good it feels to take my cock,” he grins smugly as he carries your little body like a trophy into the main building—not paying mind to any maids who he passes by. they’re shocked by the sight of their lady in such a state, though are only able to bow at the two of you.
sukuna finally stops in front of the dinner table. the same table you always have dinner at with him and his other women. he places your back against the surface, big hands holding you down by your hips. “there we go,” he coos mockingly, seeing how you’re completely fucked out, yet still needing more of him.
the king of curses has his own twisted reasons of bringing you here. looking outside of the window, you notice how the sun is starting to set. that’s also the moment you realise his hidden motive.
the other concubines will sooner or later gather at the dining hall to eat supper. they’d expect a peaceful meal, though instead, they’ll be greeted by the sight of their dear lord screwing his favorite. it’ll be a painful blow to them.
which is exactly what the ruthless man wants to achieve.
sukuna licks his lips and all of his eyes focus on you solely, “gonna enjoy my dinner a bit earlier t’day, yeah?”
Tumblr media
CR. STTORU 2024
8K notes · View notes
joonie-beanie · 7 months
Text
Doctor's Orders | [Wriothesley x Reader]
Tumblr media
Summary: “Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.” In which a simple tea time turns heated, and you get caught up in the consequence of Wriothesley not listening to his doctor. Content: Smut, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Aphrodisiacs, fem!reader Word Count: 7.9k
Tumblr media
Sigewinne is evil.
You would have never suspected that such a tiny, cute body could contain so much malevolence. (Although, Sigewinne would personally argue that you’re confused, and that the word you’re looking for is actually benevolence. But, you digress.)
It all starts a few weeks into your employment at the Fortress of Meropide.
You’d spotted a job listing for a “personal assistant” in passing one day, and had immediately become interested thanks to the very generous salary listed on the paper. Seeing the job was located in Fontaine’s unofficial prison had, of course, caused you to have some second thoughts about applying, but at the end of the day, money is money.
Which is how you’d found yourself down on the ocean floor, waiting with a few other candidates outside the Duke’s office.
You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t nervous—waiting there to meet the head honcho of the prison. That when he stepped out to call you inside for your interview—all tall and beefy and scarred—your heart didn’t nervously flutter inside your chest.
…but to your surprise, he’s actually much softer than he appears.
“So,” he says, sitting down across from you at his desk. He folds his arms and smiles at you. “Why should I hire you? ”
Having been through this process before, you had immediately rattled off your qualifications and experiences. A few of which Wriothesley had proceeded to comment on and inquire about further. But it wasn’t until he asked—
“What benefit will I receive from picking you specifically?”
And you’d responded with—
“Errand girl.”
“What?”
“I can run errands for you. I’m sure the guards can be slow, going back and forth. But if you’re my direct employer, I can do whatever you want. Drop documents off, check in on things…pick up more tea.”
—that Wriothesley finally makes up his mind.
“Hmm. Very convincing.”
The next day, you receive a letter with the terms of your employment, and your official start date.
So, since then, you’ve been working for Wriothesley. Which is actually kind of…nice.
Your job mostly consists of going back and forth between the prison and the surface, so that Wriothesley can stay in the Fortress and better monitor his domain. The autonomy the job grants you is very rewarding, and in the same breath, Wriothesley also feels rewarded by how you take care of things without him needing to ask more than once.
Safe to say, the two of you get along.
…which Sigewinne notices.
You, of course, meet Sigewinne on your first day. Wriothesley makes a point of introducing you and showing you where the nurse’s office is located, in case you get hurt, or need to drop something off.
The human-like melusine enthusiastically welcomes you, and, at first, you see her as…someone sweet, and caring. A treasure of the prison.
However, over time, your opinion of her slowly starts to change.
Because she keeps looking at you. Specifically, whenever you’re standing next to Wriothesley.
“Why is she doing that?” you ask him one day, nudging him gently with your elbow. He immediately looks up from his meal, over to where Sigewinne is waiting in the lunch line, her pink eyes boring into you.
“She’s probably just double checking that you’re healthy,” Wriothesley responds, paying her no mind. “I often catch her staring at me, too. You must be growing on her.”
Despite his reassuring words, you can’t help but feel a little…put off…by the look in her eyes. Like she’s plotting something.
The second weird thing you notice is when you walk into the infirmary to drop off some herbs she’d asked for, and find her drawing. At first, you assume she’s doodling, since she seems kid-like a lot of the time.
But instead, when you lean over her shoulder and look, you see that she’s writing words. A big, black “DO NOT DISTURB”...with pink hearts and a few flowers drawn around it.
“What’s that for?” you ask her, forcing a smile.
“Oh! It’s just for a project I’m working on,” she responds, swiveling in her chair to face you. She happily kicks her feet, her eyes darting to the herbs you’re carrying with you.
“Ah, are those what I asked for? Thank you!”
You hand her the small bundle of dried flowers and grasses, watching as she immediately turns and places them on her desk next to some string, and cheesecloth.
“You’re welcome,” you respond, taking a small step backwards. “If that’s all, I’ll keep working on the rest of the tasks on my list—”
“Wait,” she says, grabbing your wrist. You instantly freeze, your eyes going wide as you turn back to face her. There’s a serious look on her face.
“How do you feel about Wriothesley?”
Her question makes your heart skip—heat rising on your skin.
“What?”
She doesn’t bother elaborating or giving you context, just waits for you to respond. You cough a little, feeling awkward, and wondering what kind of answer she’s looking for.
“Well…I mean. I think he’s a good boss. He’s friendly, and devoted to his job. He runs the prison well.”
Sigewinne nods, but doesn’t comment. Just keeps…staring.
Feeling pressured, you force yourself to think of more to say.
“Um…he’s deserving of his title and the respect he garners. I…enjoy speaking with him? Like when he invites me to partake in tea breaks. I dunno…he just kinda reminds me of a big, fluffy puppy. He looks scary but he’s actually pretty…cute, y’know?”
Finally, Sigewinne smiles. She takes your hand in her tiny ones, giving it a squeeze.
“Thank you for answering my question. You can go now.”
You blink at her dumbly, but nonetheless excuse yourself from the room.
Two days later, Wriothesley invites you to his office for tea. And to your surprise, when you walk in, you find Sigewinne waiting there as well.
“Thank you for coming!” she says as you enter the room. You flash her a smile, taking a seat in one of the open chairs around the table.
“Of course!”
“Sigewinne has a tea she wants us both to try,” Wriothesley explains, a fond look in his eyes as he watches the resident nurse flit around—pouring hot water into the teacups that have been set out.
You nod.
“I see.”
“Although, I don’t know why you won’t just steep the tea in the pot,” Wriothesley complains to her, just as Sigewinne places individual tea bags in each cup. “Are we not all being served the same tea?”
She cutely huffs.
“For your information, no we are not. Your and Y/N’s tea is unique.”
“Oh?” Wriothesley leans forward to look into the teacups as the colors from the herbs begin to bleed into the water. “What’s so unique about it?”
“You’ll see,” she responds with a playful look, one that causes Wriothesley to amusedly raise his eyebrows. However, he doesn’t say anything more—simply waiting for the tea to appropriately steep.
“...are you using the herbs I brought you?”
You can’t help but notice the smell wafting from the cup in front of you is a little familiar. Sigewinne nods.
“Wow! I’m surprised you noticed.”
“Ah, so this must be the reason you wanted me to lend you Y/N for a task the other day,” Wriothesley chimes in, his icy blue eyes once again shifting to Sigewinne. 
“Do I get to know what herbs you requested Y/N to bring you, exactly?”
The resident nurse shakes her head, quietly laughing when Wriothesley sighs and deflates back into his chair. 
“It’s meant to be a surprise! I want to see what you think about the taste without knowing the ingredients.”
“I suppose that’s fair.”
Folding your hands on your lap, the office descends into silence for a brief moment, the three of you intently watching the teacups in front of you. Then, Sigewinne finally claps her hands and declares—
“Okay, they’ve steeped long enough. Go ahead!”
“Finally,” Wriothesley happily mumbles, reaching forward to pick up the pristine little plate on which his cup of tea resides. He brings the cup to his nose, inhaling deeply, and then takes a tentative sip.
“Hmm…”
He frowns, his brows pinching as he tries to discern the flavors he’s tasting. 
Curiosity getting the better of you, you take a sip from your own cup—wincing as the hot liquid accidentally burns your tongue.
“So?” Sigewinne prompts, staring excitedly between the two of you.
“It’s…pleasant,” you respond, clearly not as big of a tea connoisseur as the Duke. “It has a hint of sweetness.”
“It tastes like a Rainbow Rose smells,” Wriothesley adds, taking another sip. His gaze slides to you. “Did you pick some for her?”
You shake your head.
“No, I didn’t. Or…at least I didn’t pick any fresh ones. I did go to a vendor and purchase something in a bottle that looked like crushed, pink dust.”
Sigewinne cutely laughs. 
“As expected of you, Your Grace. Yes, one of the ingredients is dried Rainbow Rose petals. Do you like it?”
Wriothesley makes a pleased sound.
“I do. The taste is light, but pleasant—like Y/N said.”
“Good! I want both of you to drink up.” 
Sigewinne finally picks up her own tea, and you can’t help but notice the difference in color when compared to yours and Wriothesley’s. She really is drinking something different…but why?
“Aye aye, captain,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne laugh. You smile at the cute interaction between them, and have some more of your tea as well.
Together, the three of you engage in friendly conversation—catching up about recent topics while indulging in tea and a few different snacks that Wriothesley had pulled out for the occasion. As you drink, you can’t help but notice you feel…warm. A heat that spreads out from your stomach, and slowly creeps into your limbs.
You’ve never felt this way before but…maybe the tea is just extra hot today? 
You glance up to Wriothesley and notice that he’s a little flushed as well. Which is…reassuring? You think. Since you’re obviously not the only one affected.
“Oh! Y/N!” 
Sigewinne’s sudden call of your name draws you from your thoughts, and you look over at her. She smiles.
“I forgot to ask, but are you dating anyone?”
“Sigewinne,” Wriothesley gently scolds. He leans forward and sets his teacup on the table, the cup now empty.
His tone practically says “It’s not appropriate to ask questions like that” without actually saying it. Sigewinne pouts.
“Aww, c’mon. We’re all friends here! I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”
Hearing that the melusine considers you to be a friend, you decide to grace her with an answer—ignoring the tingling of the taste buds on your tongue.
“No, I am not seeing anyone,” you inform her with a polite smile. Sigewinne nods happily at your answer, which makes your smile waver.
Is she happy you’re single?? Ouch.
“Okay, good,” she says. “I’d feel a little bad, otherwise.”
You blink in confusion at her words, watching her as she pops off her chair and heads towards the door. Wriothesley raises an eyebrow at her.
There’s sweat beading on his brow.
“Where are you going?”
“Away,” she responds. “To give you two some privacy.”
You and Wriothesley glance at each other, mirroring each other’s confusion.
Your tummy starts to ache.
“Why are you leaving us alone, exactly?”
Stopping just in front of the office doors, Sigewinne turns on her heel to face the two of you. There’s a smug grin on her face. 
“This is what happens when you don’t follow doctor’s orders.”
You frown, raising a hand to your chest, wondering why your heart is suddenly racing. 
What’s this about doctor’s orders?
You glance over at Wriothesley…only to see that he’s frozen in shock—his eyes wide with realization.
His pants feel too tight.
“Sigewinne, you did not—”
There’s an edge to his voice when he speaks, his eyes narrowing. He plants his feet on the floor and prepares to stand and confront her, but before he can blink, Sigewinne has drawn her pistol—a tranquilizing bullet hitting him square in the chest, where a little patch of skin is showing. 
He makes a noise of surprise, and quickly flops back into his chair to avoid falling on the floor—his limbs immediately going numb.
“Sigewinne!” you gasp. You’re not sure what’s going on, but the fact that she’d just shot Wriothesley is…
“It’s okay,” she says with a little sigh. “The effect will wear off in a few minutes. And…I’m sorry I scared you. Let me explain…”
She holsters her gun and smiles at you, trying to calm you down.
“As the nurse of the Fortress of Meropide, it is my duty to look after all residents, including Your Grace. And over the last few months, I’ve noticed him becoming more… irritable.”
“Sigewinne…,” Wriothesley mumbles, but the girl waves him off.
“After observing him for a while, I realized that his stress levels were getting high. And as his doctor, I recommended him a way to manage his stress, but he refused. He insisted tea was enough to soothe his nerves, but that’s simply not true. So…when you started working here, and I saw how well the two of you were getting along, I…got an idea.”
Sigewinne glances over at Wriothesley, noticing how he’s begun to shift his boots against the floor. 
Her tranquilizers won’t be in effect much longer. They never work as well on people Wriothesley’s size…
So, she decides to cut to the chase.
Reaching into her pocket, Sigewinne pulls out the DO NOT DISTURB sign you’d seen her making the other day. She holds it in front of her, and beams at you.
“Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.”
“You…you drugged us?” you gape, completely thrown by everything she’s just told you. She immediately gets defensive, her cheeks puffing.
“I medicated you,” she corrects. “And in the end, I’m only acting as a doctor. This all could have been avoided if Your Grace had just taken care of his own needs, as I’d insisted. Since he didn’t, I could only logically assume it's because it’s his preference to have a partner, rather than going at it solo. So, if you want to blame anyone for this, please blame him.”
“Sigewinne—” 
Gripping the arms of his chair, Wriothesley breathes out a heavy sigh and begins to push himself up. You can’t help but notice his face is much redder now, and you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment, the effects of the drugs, or both.
Seeing that Wriothesley has nearly regained his strength, Sigewinne hurries to exit his office.
“Anyway! The effects of the tea should wear off in a few hours, but only if you relieve yourselves. Otherwise, it will last much longer. So I suggest you let loose and indulge yourselves. You like each other! Enjoy this time!”
Wriothesley opens his mouth to say something, but his words catch in his throat the second Sigewinne opens his office door. He doesn’t want anyone outside of his office walls to hear him or know what’s going on.
“I’ll hang this sign on the door,” Sigewinne continues, her voice hushing. “So no one comes in while you two are…busy. Just remove it once you’re done, okay? Have fun!”
With a supportive little fist pump, Sigewinne then closes the door, leaving you and Wriothesley alone.
A few long beats of silence pass, then Wriothesley finally sighs.
"I…apologize for this. I never meant for you to get roped in."
You turn to look at him, only to find that he's standing with his back to you, his hand raising to rub at the back of his head.
You can see his muscles flexing as he does so, and you hate to admit that it causes the heat inside you to grow.
"It's…not your fault," you respond, laughing a little awkwardly. "I doubt it's easy to follow directions when your doctor tells you to jack off to rectify your hardass-ness."
Wriothesley glances at you over his shoulder.
"Have I been acting like a hardass?"
"You've been a little snippy at times," you tell him, smoothing your sweaty palms down your legs. Seriously, your clothes are starting to make you feel claustrophobic…
"Not to me, specifically. But I've noticed it towards some of the prison residents."
"Shit," he sighs, rubbing his temples. You continue to watch him, your eyes wandering the expanse of his back. For a second, you don't understand why he won't face you. Then it clicks.
"...are you…hard? Is that why you're not turning around?"
"It's…pretty bad," Wriothesley admits, his shoulder sagging in defeat. "I don't know what all was in that tea but…as an aphrodisiac, it's doing its job."
"Yeah…," you agree, swallowing heavily. You can feel wet arousal pooling on the fabric of your panties. His office has also started to feel like a sauna, but you're not sure if it's the air that's hot, or your body.
However, you're still not willing to breach the topic of "relief" with him. You haven't reached that level of desperation…yet .
So, you think of something else to carry the conversation in the meantime.
"So…Sigewinne said you like me?"
"Ah, you caught that."
He laughs a little, and begins pacing around the room, still careful to keep his back to you. You can't help but notice his stride is a little…impeded.
"If I'm being frank—yes, I do. You've been…a pleasure to have around, since I hired you. Actually, one of the reasons I picked you in the first place was because of how you acted during your interview. Most people are scared of me and therefore talk cautiously. You're certainly respectful, of course, but…you're a bit playful, as well. And I found that quality to be attractive."
"Ah, so I charmed you," you respond playfully. "Remind me to add that point to my resume later. "Managed to woo the Lord of the Fortress of Meropide". That sounds pretty good—"
"And there you go again," Wriothesley laughs. He steps behind the chair he'd been sitting in previously, and then finally turns to face you—the back of the chair tall enough that his lower half is out of sight. 
"Although, if I recall her words correctly, Sigewinne stated that we "like each other". So, is there something you'd like to say as well?"
Your eyes go wide, and you feel more blood rush into your head. Wriothesley smiles, wide enough to show teeth. 
"C’mon now. It's not fair that I praise you and get nothing in return."
You pout.
"To be fair, I didn't know why Sigewinne suddenly asked me what I thought of you…"
"That’s understandable, but still. I'd like to know what you told her."
Wriothesley maintains his playful demeanor, despite the way his knuckles begin to turn white at his sides—a deep-seated need slowly sinking its claws into him.
You sigh.
"I just…told her that you're a good boss, and are deserving of your titles and the respect you garner…"
You trail off, suddenly remembering the last thing you'd told Sigewinne during that conversation. Wriothesley clearly notices there's something you're leaving out, one of his eyebrows raising.
"And?"
You take a deep breath.
"That you're a cute puppy."
He blinks in shock.
"...excuse me?"
Oh god, you wanna phase through the floor.
"I said that even though you look scary, you're really just like a big…cute…puppy."
For a moment, Wriothesley can only stare at you. Then, he throws his head back and laughs. 
Embarrassed, you plant your palms on your thighs and push to your feet, instinctively wanting to run away…only to realize that your legs have gone weak. 
With a distraught noise, you flop back into your chair. 
Out of the corner of his eye, Wriothesley notices.
He coughs, pulling himself back together.
"Well, I've certainly never heard myself described in such a way before. I can't say I totally hate it, but I'm not sure if I agree with the term "puppy"."
You force an awkward laugh, finally losing steam as the arousal inside you begins to cloud your thoughts. Sigewinne obviously wasn't messing around when making her aphrodisiac…you've never felt so horny before that it has literally hindered your mental and physical faculties.
The office is silent for a few tense moments, but finally, Wriothesley heaves a heavy sigh. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his shoulders slumping as he hangs his head.
"You may revoke your good opinion of me, considering how inappropriate it is for a boss to even consider such a thing, but…I think my dick is gonna explode soon, so I'll just come out and ask."
You swallow, anticipating his next words.
"Would you be…interested in having sex?"
Your body shivers in excitement at the idea, the lustful part of your brain screaming at you to jump him already.
"I…would," you admit, managing to keep it together. Wriothesley's entire body jolts impatiently at your words, but he’s able to keep himself grounded. 
"I don't think I'll be able to survive…this without some relief. And…I trust you. So…"
"So we're in agreement," Wrioslethely supplies, waiting for your confirmation. You nod your head. 
"We are."
In the next beat, he's is crossing the space between you, a "thank god" barely making it past his lips before he crashes them into yours.
Immediately, you’re groaning into him—your arms wrapping around his neck and his hands finding the backs of your thighs. He lifts you from your chair easily—your chests pressing together as he holds you close.
You’ve always been acutely aware of how large Wriothesley is, but you don’t think it fully sinks in until now—as he manhandles you with ease, quite literally carrying you with one arm as the other sneaks beneath your shirt and tugs it over your head.
You’re forced to break the kiss as he does so, but the second the fabric has been discarded, you’re tangling your fingers in his hair and dragging him in for another. 
Your action evokes a pleased little rumble inside his chest.
“You taste sweet,” he mumbles, his palm roaming over the exposed skin of your back. The warmth of his skin against yours makes you ache.
“It’s probably the aphrodisiac,” you reply breathlessly, a shiver raking your spine when you feel his fingers toy at the waistband of your pants.
“Hmm, shall we posit your theory?”
Before you can even think to ask what he means, the room is spinning—too many things happening at once. However, it’s nearly impossible to miss the feel of your pants being shucked down your legs.
When everything settles, you find that you’re no longer chest to chest with Wriothesley, but rather, face to dick.
“Wh—”
Your cheeks heat up as you finally digest the position he’s put you in—your ass in his face, and his crotch in yours—his body now firmly planted in a chair as he spreads his thighs and makes himself comfortable.
“Wriothesley!” you say in shock, your palms gripping his legs for support as you attempt to turn and face him. However, you quickly realize with the position he has chosen, you’re fairly helpless to do anything—completely at his mercy as he locks his arms around your legs and grips your ass in his hands.
“Hm?” he responds nonchalantly, one of his fingers slipping under the edge of your panties. You shift a little, trying to glare at him, but only succeed in having his clothed dick poke you in the cheek. He tenses at the sensation, and you feel his cock strain helplessly against the fabric of his pants—begging for more friction.
“I’m just testing your theory, like I said,” he continues, a surprised mewl tearing from your throat as he leans his head forward and nuzzles his nose in the damp fabric of your panties.
“If you think it’s the aphrodisiac making you sweet, let’s see if it’s also having that effect elsewhere—”
Before you can protest, Wriothesley is tugging the crotch of your underwear aside—his tongue licking a hot, languid strip between your folds. You gasp at the feeling, your nails digging into his thighs through the layer of clothes that he wears.
Above you, the Duke makes a pleased sound, repeating his previous action—noting the way your body writhes against his hold. His fingers grip your ass tighter, his brows furrowing as he presses his tongue inside your entrance—your arousal quickly coating his taste buds.
“Yep,” he mutters after a moment, his voice tight and his throat bobbing as he harshly swallows. “You taste…addicting.”
His words have your cunt squeezing around nothing, although he quickly dives back in and rectifies that problem—stretching your walls out around his tongue. 
“Fuck…,” you pant, your head dropping as your strength wanes. Your muscles progressively start to feel like jelly, thanks to his ministrations. Especially, when he moves his mouth to your clit and begins rolling his tongue around it—a whine escaping you as the desire inside of you sears white hot.
And yet, despite the way Wriothesley presses on—groaning into your pussy as he eats you out—you’d be remiss to forget about the fact that he’s currently affected by the aphrodisiac as well, and has his own needs that need to be taken care of.
So, gathering what strength you have, you manage to push yourself up onto your forearms—your hands moving to the waistband of his pants. You frantically work open the button and zipper of his slacks, and then hook your fingers under the elastic of his underwear, tugging the band down.
…only to have his freed cock immediately spring up and smack you in the face.
Your eyes go wide, and in normal circumstances, you’d expect Wriothesley to laugh at the comedy of what has just occurred. However, too immersed in the way your cunt tastes and feels, and the way your body continues to twitch in his hold, he doesn’t even notice. And, too amazed by the sheer size of Wriothesley’s dick as you finally lean your head back and get a good look at him, you don’t bother saying anything.
No, instead you simply part your lips and take the head of his cock into your mouth—sucking lightly, your tongue teasing at his slit. The groan that’s immediately torn from his throat is involuntary—the sound becoming muffled by your pussy as he momentarily stops to savor the feeling of your mouth on his dick—your tongue flattening on the underside of his shaft as you slowly take more of him into your mouth.
Then, he goes back to eating you out with renewed fervor—your eyes nearly rolling back into your skull when he sucks at your clit.
The room quickly fills with the sound of sloppy and messy oral, your head bobbing up and down Wriothesley’s cock. Saliva drips down his length, his pre-cum smearing against your tongue, and you can’t help but moan.
Everything feels so good—from Wriothesley’s tongue on your cunt, to the way his cock fills up your mouth…
“Fuck,” Wriothesley growls. His fingers move to pull at the folds of your pussy, spreading you open wider. You can feel his hot breath on your skin as he moves his mouth back to your clit, where he then stays—his tongue flicking rhythmically against the sensitive bundle of nerves.
The pace and motion he settles on is one that you know will very quickly damn you, and he figures this out as well based on the way your thighs begin to shake in his grasp. Your body attempts to jolt away from him—trying to escape the onslaught of pleasure he intends to give—but he leaves no wiggle room. He holds you tighter, enjoying the feeling of your mouth on his cock, and how your efforts slowly start to crumble along with your sanity.
“I…,” you mumble the word around dick, trying to warn him of the orgasm you can feel quickly approaching. Your entire body swims with arousal, your head feeling light. 
“Keep going, sweetheart,” he pants. “Let’s cum together.”
You feel his cock throb against your tongue, and, dutifully, you do your best to continue sucking him off—your lips once again suctioning around his shaft. Your actions immediately evoke a pleased groan from the Duke, and you feel his thighs tense in your grasp—his own orgasm quickly approaching.
However, despite your best efforts to continue, everything falls apart the second your climax finally crests.
With a cry, you come undone—your body writhing in his hold. You go brainless almost immediately, the strength in your arms wavering, and Wriothesley’s cock stuffing into your cheek—your hot breath fanning over his length.
Luckily, the vulgarity of the entire situation is enough to push Wriothesley over the finish line—his dick painting the inside of your mouth with his cum. And to his surprise, once he’s spent, you actually pull your head back, close your lips, and swallow.
Shit, he thinks. 
His dick is just starting to soften, and yet somehow, it’s also already getting hard again.
There’s a few beats of quiet that are filled only with the sound of you and Wriothesley panting. Then, once he’s caught his breath, he says—
“Let’s get you right side up.”
—and the world spins again.
Honestly, the fact that he can manhandle you this easily is criminal.
“You okay?” he asks, sitting you on one of his thighs. He brushes a few stray hairs from your face, staring at you with a hint of concern.
You nod your head, grateful that the carnal desire you’ve been afflicted with is clearly less, now that you and Wriothesley have both gotten off. But…even despite that, you still feel hot and tingly. Like you want more.
You glance down at his lap.
“Mmm. Seems like you’re in the same predicament as me.”
“Think you can handle another round?” he asks. You meet his eyes, playfully raising your eyebrows.
“I’m almost tempted to say no, and see what you do.”
Wriothesley rolls his eyes, his hands grabbing your waist, and in the next moment, you find yourself slung over his shoulder.
“Hey—!” you protest, attempting to look at him, but he only caresses your ass with his free hand.
“If you have that much spunk left in you, you can handle another round,” he says, carrying you down the nearby staircase, to the floor below his office. “But, I’ll be kind this time and make you more comfortable.”
His boots echo against the metal floor as he walks, and for a second, you wonder where exactly he’s taking you. But, soon after, Wriothesley pushes through a nearby door, and you find yourself in a moderately sized bedroom.
It must be his, you realize, feeling a little silly that you’d never pondered before now where the Master of the prison actually sleeps.
“Here we are.”
Wriothesley gently deposits you onto his bed, and then immediately reaches for his tie. You watch him with bated breath, your heart doing a tiny flip as you realize that he’s finally stripping out of his clothes. He opts to leave on the leather belts encircling his arms and neck, instead focusing the bulk of his time on shedding his suit, and undoing the many buckles on his boots. 
By the time he’s finished—his erect cock once again sitting heavy between his legs—you’re practically drooling at the sight of him.
His lips twitch into a little smile.
“I’m happy to know that you like what you see. However, in the time I spent undressing myself, you couldn’t be bothered to remove what little clothing you have left? C’mon now, are you waiting for me to wrestle you out of them?”
Still feeling cheeky, you flash him a grin.
“Hm, I’d like to see you try.”
Wriothesley immediately cocks an eyebrow, his eyes glinting at the challenge you’ve just issued, and your attitude wavers, realizing what it is you’ve done. You open your mouth to say you’re only teasing—your hands already raising behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra—but it’s too late.
In one swift motion, Wriothesley grabs your ankle and twists you onto your stomach—his weight settling above you as he kneels onto the bed. You shiver when his knuckles brush against your skin—his fingers swiftly undoing your bra.
“You’re just a little brat, aren’t you…” 
He speaks the words fondly, with a hint of amusement, and yet, they still go straight to your cunt. 
“Don’t say things like that,” you respond, instinctively raising your hips when Wriothesley hooks his fingers on your underwear and begins tugging them down your thighs. He stares intently at your backside as he does so, an idea popping into his mind.
“Why? Because you like it too much?”
He discards your panties on the floor along with the rest of the clothes you’d both shed, and then grabs your knees, forcing you to spread your legs, so he can properly settle between them. 
Another blush rises on your face at his words, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. At your lack of response, Wriothesely continues.
“In my understanding, brats tend to like it a little rougher, so…” 
His hands ghost up your thighs, to your hips, and he grips you tightly—forcing your lower half off the bed until you’re propped up on your knees—his cock sitting heavy against your ass.
“...what say we continue like this, hm?”
Bracing yourself on your forearms, you turn your head back to look at him—your body tensing as you watch him fist his cock and drag it downward, between the lips of your pussy. 
His icy eyes catch yours.
“Any objection?”
“...no,” you mumble, your fingers anticipatedly fisting in the sheets. 
Wriothesley nods—
“Good.”
—and then presses the head of his cock inside you.
Immediately, you drop your forehead against the mattress—willing your body to relax for him as he slowly inches inside of you.
His tongue had certainly been enjoyable, but this? Fuck. Nothing compares to the sensation of him slowly stuffing you inch by inch—the girth of his cock positively delicious as he forces your cunt to stretch to accommodate him.
It’s so much that by the time he’s fully seated inside of you, your body is shaking—your breath coming out in quick, desperately little pants.
Seeing your reaction, Wriothesely soothes a hand up your spine, his warm palm settling between your shoulder blades. He decides to start slow—to give you a little more time to adjust to him. 
And honestly, he’d love to take his time in general—to really savor the sight of you beneath him, your cunt swallowing his cock so perfectly, but alas. The effects of the aphrodisiac make him impatient with need, and it’s not long before he’s moving faster—little gasps and whines finding their way past your lips as he begins fucking you back onto his cock.
“Ahh…seriously you’re…so fucking tight,” he curses. His fingers dig into the plush of your hip—his jaw clenching, and his racing heart pumping lust through his veins.
Your cunt clamping on his dick seriously might be his personal slice of heaven.
“Wrio, I—,” you can’t even get the words out, your brain short-circuiting. You can’t think straight anymore—not with his cock rubbing you in all the right spots, making a mess of your insides, and quickly rocketing you towards another—
Wait, no, it’s only been a minute—!
“Fuck! ” 
You choke the word out, your spine curving and your knuckles turning white as your second orgasm of the night is unexpectedly forced out of you—your pussy spasming around Wriothesley’s dick.
The last of your strength officially drained, you collapse forward onto the mattress, your cheek smushing into the covers.
…however, Wriothesley doesn’t allow your lower half to fall along with the rest of you—his hold on your hips keeping your twitching pussy firmly planted on his still-hard dick.
“We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” he reminds you, his cock continuing to languidly drag between your walls, drawing out the tail end of your pleasure.
You can’t help but whimper at his words, already feeling a bit oversensitive thanks to two consecutive orgasms. Wriothesley does his best to soothe your frayed nerves.
Leaning over you, he gently tangles his fist in your hair—coaxing your head off the mattress so he can kiss you. 
The kiss is messy, but sweet—the angle of your bodies forcing his cock deeper inside of you, his hips completely flush against your ass.
“You’re doing so good,” he tells you, peppering a trail of kisses against your cheek, and across your jaw. His praise causes you to whimper, a shiver raking up your spine when his tongue drags across your skin—his teeth nipping at the nape of your neck.
His actions successfully get you to relax—your body becoming more pliable in his grasp as he once again begins to move. And soon enough, the wet sound of sex fills his bedroom once more.
Wanting to help him cum (and to feel his seed fill you), you do your best to help Wriothesley along—purposefully flexing the walls of your pussy as he fucks you. However, in doing so, you accidentally start yourself down the path of yet another orgasm…
Feeling the familiar, aching pleasure beginning to build inside of you once again, you quickly stop what you’re doing. You think that a third orgasm honestly might kill you, but…it’s too late.
Wriothesley has already noticed your growing arousal, and decides that he likes it better when the two of you cum together.
So, he sneaks one of his hands between the apex of your legs, and begins rubbing at your clit.
The garbled, desperate cry that leaves your mouth immediately becomes seared in his mind for a long time to come.
“No, Wrio, I…I can’t. I—”
Your words come out jumbled, tears beading on your lash line.
Momentarily removing his hand from your clit, he once again reaches forward and grips your hair—pulling your head back so he can kiss you. His lips swallow up your worries.
“You can,” he insists, his voice whispering in your ear, and his hot breath fanning over your skin. 
“I want you to cum with me, pretty girl. You can do it.”
You give no protest aside from a cute little whine, and that's good enough for Wriothesley.
Releasing your hair, his hand finds your clit once more.
He then proceeds to fuck you into the mattress—pursuing his orgasm with abandon. A groan leaves his mouth at the way your pussy starts clamping on his dick once again—tightening up with each pass of his fingers across your clit—your pussy slick and messy with your own arousal.
Unable to think straight, you can only hold on for dear life—clinging to his sheets like a lifeline. You can’t even process the sounds that are coming out of your own mouth—a damned, desperate symphony moans.
To Wriothesley, it all sounds like a siren's cry—beckoning him closer to the edge.
“Shit,” he pants, feeling his cock throb, and his balls tighten. The motion of his fingers on your clit quickens—your toes curling as the coil of pleasure in your tummy continues to wind—so close to snapping.
Sweat beading on his brow, Wriothesley leans forward, curling his body against yours. His teeth nip at the shell of your ear, his husky voice sending goosebumps across your skin.
“So good for me…,” he breathes, his hips smacking into your ass. His broad strokes deteriorate into needy rutting, and the sensation has you quite literally sobbing—his cock now incessantly grinding into your g-spot.
You can’t take it anymore.
Shoving your face into the mattress, you bite the sheets and scream—your entire body shaking as you cum for a third time, your cunt milking around Wriothesley’s cock.
He curses at the feeling, his face burying in your neck. Wrapping his arms around you, he hugs you to his body—fucking inside of you a few more times before finally joining you in ecstasy. 
His teeth sink into you as his orgasms peaks, a heady groan muffled against your skin as his balls empty—pumping you full of his cum.
It’s not until the intensity of his pleasure has died down that Wriothesley ultimately releases you from his hold—your lower half immediately flopping down onto the bed, and his softening cock slipping out of you.
The Duke takes a moment to simply look at you, and how fucked out you are. Your eyes bleary, skin flushed, and the imprint of his teeth engraved in your flesh.
He grunts at the sight, and settles in beside you—his arm curling around your waist as he tugs you back against him. His tongue immediately begins lapping at the bite mark he’d inflicted, attempting to soothe the sting.
After a few seconds, you begin shaking, and Wriothesley immediately pauses, scared that he’s hurt you in some way.
…only to realize that you’re laughing.
“...puppy…”
He props himself up, glancing at you.
“What?”
“You really are like a puppy,” you giggle, your finger lifting to brush a stray tear from your eye. “The way you bit me, and then immediately started licking at it in apology. So cute…”
You break into another tiny fit of laughter, and Wriothesley rolls his eyes, yet can’t help cracking a smile.
“Well, I’m glad to know I didn’t break you, at the very least.”
His hand rubs against your waist.
“...right?”
Finally getting ahold of yourself, you roll onto your back and smile at him, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek. He immediately leans into your touch, and it makes your heart flutter.
“I’m not broken, no. Just…sore. And gross. And sweaty.”
Wriothesley chuckles.
“Well, I think I can rectify some of those issues. I do have a bathroom, with a tub.”
“Wow,” you respond, watching him as he scoots to the edge of the mattress and gets to his feet. He waits a second for you to join him, but you don’t move.
“My…limbs feel like jello,” you admit, raising your arm and flopping it back down bonelessly for emphasis. Wriothesley rolls his eyes, but nonetheless leans over the bed and scoops you into his arms.
You rest your cheek against his chest, admiring for the first time how soft it really is.
“Whatever shall I do with you,” he playfully sighs, carrying you into the adjacent bathroom. He sets you on the vanity, moving over to the tub and turning on the tap for the hot water. You hum.
“Mmm, I can think of a few things you can do. The first of which is helping me into the bath once it’s ready.”
Wriothesley quietly chuckles. Returning to your side, he takes your hand, and brings it to his lips.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Once the tub has filled, the Duke keeps true to his word—once again carefully cradling you in his arms as he seats himself in the tub basin, before positioning you in the space between his legs.
The steaming water immediately soothes the ache of your body, and you sigh in relief—sinking back against Wriothesley’s body. He lightly wraps one arm around your waist, the other resting on the edge of the tub.
For a few long minutes, the two of you bask in silence, simply enjoying the refreshing feel of the bath. 
…then, you start to notice something beginning to grow—pressing at your back.
“...really? Is the aphrodisiac still getting to you that much?”
“No,” he admits after a beat, leaning forward to kiss your neck. “I think this one is actually all me.”
You roll your eyes, but nonetheless crane your head to the side—allowing him access to more of your skin as his mouth begins to wander.
“I thought I made it clear that my limbs are jello right now.”
“I can work with that,” he responds, and you feel him grin. His hand slowly trails down your stomach, and between your legs.
“I’ll do all the work. You just get to make pretty sounds and feel good.”
His fingers slide between the folds of your pussy, and you jolt as he passes over your overly-sensitive clit. But seriously…how are you going to say no to him?
“What am I going to do with you?” you sigh, echoing his earlier words. His chest rumbles with laughter, and he grabs your chin with his free hand—turning your head so he can kiss you.
“Mmm, I can think of a few things.”
Tumblr media
The next morning, you find yourself in a back in your clothes, standing beside Wriothesley just inside his office door.
“I’ll go first,” you say, to which he nods. “I have some errands to run anyway. You can wait a minute and then come out after me.”
“Sounds good.”
The two of you stare at each other for a second, before you finally square your shoulders, and reach for the door handle. 
Before you can twist it, Wriothesley catches your wrist. When you look back at him, you find that there’s a blush on his cheeks.
“So, I’ll…see you later?”
His suddenly bashful demeanor causes you to smile. Pressing onto your toes, you cup his cheeks and softly kiss him. He immediately grabs your waist—deepening the kiss.
“You’ll see me later,” you promise. 
With that, the two of you finally separate, and you disappear through his office door.
Wriothesley takes a deep breath at your departure, combing a hand through his hair as he waits for the right moment to make his own exit.
To be safe, he decides to wait a good few minutes. But finally, he opens his door—preparing to venture into the main area of the fortress, and make his normal rounds.
…however, he only makes it a step before remembering the sign Sigewinne had made.
With a sigh, he immediately backtracks and tears the DO NOT DISTURB sign off of his door, crumpling it between his palms.
When he turns back around, he nearly jumps—Sigewinne standing right in front of him.
“So,” she says, a pleased grin on her face. “How’d it go?”
Narrowing his eyes, Wriothesley only stares ahead, and walks past her. She easily follows after him.
“The fact that you’re out and about this early in the day means something likely happened between you and Y/N.”
“No comment,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne giggle. They pass by a few prisoners as Wriothesley makes a B-line for the elevator to the production zone. Once there, Sigewinne squeezes herself in along with him.
As the elevator begins to descend, only a few seconds pass in silence, before Sigewinne asks one last question.
“As your doctor, it’s my recommendation that you continue to regularly relieve your stress. So, are you going to be dutifully carrying out my orders from now on?”
Wriothesley makes a little face, glancing away from her.
“...maybe.”
Sigewinne smiles. 
That’s good enough for her.
13K notes · View notes