#might have over-rendered the hair a bit but. fuck you i like it
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cowboy like me // e.w. [chapter one]
summary: a modern day princess living under outdated royal protocol in which your own existence is forbidden. in a typical state visit to strengthen your country's relations with the united states, you find it harder than ever to keep your sexuality secret when you meet the president's daughter, ellie williams, and sparks fly.
wc: 2.1k masterlist
content warnings: fluff, angst, eventual smut. homophobia, governments, monarchy, politics. reader is specified as lesbian with she/her pronouns used for plot purposes i sorry, smoking, making out, femme! reader. u-haul lesbians fr. reader plays piano. ellie is a disaster lesbian lmaooooo. she's also super privileged and a bit of an ass. mostly based off of the british royal family in terms of royal protocol and all that shit, don’t kill me if things are inaccurate i’m not american, this chapter is more an intro to ellie's character and establishing tension
authors note: i'm so excited about this fic... but i might hate it in the morning so we'll see!! i've never read/watched red white and royal blue but it did inspire this fic (do not expect it to be anything like rwrb as i said i don't know what happens in it lmao). ellie's the president's daughter obvs. if your country doesn't have a monarchy just pretend there is one. if you're from the us then L 💀 play pretend
converse sneakers pelting across marble tiled floors with an onslaught of urgency, ellie makes her way through the halls. she stops at a mirror for a second, a muse in her mind– eh, good enough.
smoothing down flyaway hairs, ellie realises spending free time in the courtyard outside may not have been the best idea on a cool spring day such as this. the winter is still lingering, breezes battering the flag of red, white, and blue on the roof of the building as warm temperatures are still fresh. still- she needs as much a distraction as anyone else. as if procrastinating on something like homework, assignments, except the only thing ellie has done is make herself late to the introductory banquet of the royal family. all she knows is the president won’t be happy with her.
bringing her wrist to her nose, ellie sniffs, though it’s less sniffing and more inhaling, trying to figure out if she has masked the smell of the cigarette she wasted or if she needs more cologne.
ellie’s caught by a housekeeper with her face stuck awkwardly into her suit jacket, furrowed brows as she inspects her own scent. pausing, a strained smile takes its place on chapped lips.
“he–”
“goodness, miss williams, you’re terribly late,” the housekeeper says, quickly approaching. “staff have been searching everywhere for you.”
“right,” ellie mumbles, straightening up her posture. “sorry. i’ll be on my way to the state dining room right now.”
approaching said room, ellie can already hear the fuss– loud and polite conversations, the snapping of photos, subtle classical playing over the speakers. christ, ellie thinks, how do i render myself invisible?
ellie’s worries ease the minute she steps inside, however, as the commotion isn’t around her own family today. it’s the royal family. and that realisation almost sparks up yet another mini freakout in ellie’s mind. she’s been looking forward to this for weeks, of course she has, a hot princess living in her home for an entire month..? that’s something she could get used to. but it’s real now, and just staring at you is sending a chill down ellie’s spine.
flash photography and yelling of the invited press is suffocating ellie as she ventures further into the room. she hasn’t even been noticed yet, thank god, so she decides to humbly busy herself at the table of finger food. until–
“ellie williams?”
a delicate voice smooth and sweet, ellie’s ears prick up to the sound of an accent unique and she knows exactly who this has to be.
fuck.
ellie makes quick effort to swallow the stupid cocktail frank she was eating and turns around, wiping her clammy hands on the ass of her slacks.
a princess standing right in front of her, of course these things only happen to ellie in her most cringeworthy moments. demolishing a table of finger food… what can she say? she’s an anxious snacker.
“ah-” ellie’s eyes meet your own and she gulps, extending a hand. “a pleasure to meet you, princess…”
get your head in the game, ellie. she clears her throat, putting on her famous, confident smile. and as you place your hand in hers, she acts purely without thinking, lifting your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. nobody was watching, but ellie drops your hand in an instant- is flirting with a princess the right move? even if it’s humorous?
your brain just about short-circuits, and ellie’s reeling. that was stupid, so stupid. acting on total whim.
the collar of ellie’s shirt feels too tight as she observes the split-second utter shock in your eyes, though she relaxes as you reward her a smile. and it isn’t that typical, media-trained smile, either.
“charming,” you murmur in response, eyes fixed on ellie’s piercing greens. however delighted you might be to be treated in this way by a girl like ellie, the way in which you hide it is effortless.
and charming, of course, is exactly what ellie is. messy, shirt creased and hair tousled and she honestly reeks of expensive cologne and faint smoke – but she has that handsome smile and that confident demeanour that the girls of washington d.c. fall for so easily.
“i hope so,” ellie says with an awkward chuckle, shoving her hands into her pockets. “that’s the aim of the game.”
you laugh similarly, politely, and make it as clear as possible to glance ellie up and down. “i’ll play.”
and the look on ellie’s face is plain silly at the least, her brows furrowed and eyes wide. “wh- uh..”
“say, it’s a little stuffy in here,” you say, gently fanning yourself, “you wouldn’t happen to know of any quiet spaces we could disappear to?”
ellie’s lips form a small o-shape as she processes the question. you want to be alone with her. a smirk crosses ellie’s face and she nods, “absolutely, your highness. my office.”
“would you be so kind as to show me to it?”
“of course, follow me,” ellie nods her head to the direction of the door. “we’ll have to sneak around.”
your heels click against the floor while ellie leads you down the hall, the sound a constant reminder to her that you’re actually walking alongside her. approaching a large door adorned by a gold plate with ellie’s name carved into it, she pulls a key from her pocket. and yet her eyes are on you the whole time.
the door clicks open and ellie holds it for you, only for her face to turn red when met with the sight of her office.
“excuse the mess,” she mutters, closing and locking the door behind the two of you. “i was uh, in here late last night. i had a speech to work on.”
“it’s alright,” you say, “some organised mess makes it homely.”
“right,” ellie nods. she’s beyond sensical thought now, just going along with anything you say. try harder. this is ellie’s issue, she eggs herself on too much, gets too overzealous, does things for the sake of doing them because her life has quite literally no direction if she doesn’t set herself these impossible dares. “just take a seat anywhere if you like. the couch is pretty comfy.”
ellie makes a pointless attempt to tidy some papers on her desk. she doesn’t necessarily do a lot of work here, though she enjoys being an activist, often writing speeches and finding causes to help others. though it did only begin in the first place as a way to increase the votes for her father’s party during the election- that doesn’t mean it isn’t genuine!
it’s just that ellie’s lazy ass needs pressure to do these things.
she gnaws her lower lip between her teeth for a moment, watching as you sit on the two-seater, eyeing the guitars along the wall of the office. “you play?”
“hm? no,” you say, watching ellie take a warm toned acoustic and sit beside you. “i’m a pianist, though.”
“pianist?” ellie chuckles, thumb stroking over each string of the guitar. “you’ll have to play for me sometime.”
you nod, watching intently as ellie begins playing a quiet tune. she can’t help but notice your rigid, straight posture. she can’t tell if you just have great posture, or if you’re uncomfortable.
but, noticing your eyes lingering over her nimble fingers as they pick at the guitar, ellie’s lips curl upwards just slightly.
she knows well when she’s got a girl worked up. she’d never expected the princess to be this easy.
“music is just beautiful,” you say with a small nod, again, that genuine smile small as ever on your lips insecurely. “nothing like it.”
“you think so?” ellie muses, and when you manage to finally stray your eyes from her hands, you meet ellie’s own soft gaze. “because i think… even the most beautiful ballad couldn’t compare to the solid view i got right now.”
you scoff, turning quiet as heat fills your cheeks. your brows furrow as you tilt your head a nod to the side, studying ellie’s features, searching for any hint of dishonesty. and it’s like she can tell that, with your gaze silently begging her to not be messing with you- she turns her expression more serious.
“you’re something else, williams,” you retort, though adjusting yourself a little closer. knees touch, and you don’t flinch away.
“yeah?” ellie grins. the room goes silent, ellie no longer continuing to play her tune. the guitar on her lap, she rests her chin over it. “something good, or something bad?”
there’s a more subtle smirk on her face now. she begins to move, setting the guitar down and leaning it against the couch as she shifts even closer.
“mmm…” you think for a moment, a smaller expression of interest visible across your features. “something that my head tells me is not a good idea, but my heart says is just fine.”
how the fuck did i get here, ellie wonders? she’s running on pure luck at this point. stumbled in late and somehow she’s got a princess way in over her head.
and ellie doesn’t leave you waiting a moment longer– the second you lean closer she’s grabbing your head and meeting your lips in a fervent kiss, one you gasp into and immediately lean into, hands falling into place with one on her chest and the other on the back of her neck.
pulling away breathlessly, ellie chuckles a bit and shrugs her shoulders, “eh- oops?” she looks almost embarrassed by her own reckless act. “sorry.”
there’s too much going on for you– just too much in your head. your first kiss, the first other lesbian you’ve ever met. her words get you weak in the knees, yet she gets just as flustered by her own actions which seem to only ever work on impulse. so you start laughing, and you can’t stop.
ellie herself laughs a little, watching you giggle at her pink face as you lean into the back of the couch and hold up a cushion to hide your face. it’s all snorting and snickering and ellie’s face is getting redder.
she snatches the cushion out of your hands and raises a brow at you, “if you keep being that cute i’m gonna–”
“sorry,” you laugh, “sorry-”
ellie can’t help but notice how much it seems like you really needed this laughing fit, the way it’s instantly relaxed you…
“that’s it,” she mutters with a chuckle, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer. “c’mere.”
the yelp of surprise that ellie’s movement elicits has her beaming, holding you on her lap. she rests a hand on the back of your head, the other cupping your ass. it’s indecent, indelicate to touch a princess like that, and yet you’re not stopping her. ellie’s already found herself addicted.
because this time ellie lets herself just go, pressing her lips to yours. she swipes her tongue over your bottom lip, grunting as you gasp. with your lips parted she slips her tongue into the kiss. she isn’t just kissing you, she’s devouring. she’s making sure not to leave an inch of your mouth unexplored, nor will she allow it for your body, getting rather handsy. every pretty little sound you breathe motivates her to continue, pulling you back in every time you pull back for air.
a hand slides under your dress, gripping your thigh, the other squeezes your breast before gliding to the curve of your ass, and she slumps into the couch. her boxers are growing uncomfortably wet and she needs to do something about it, hold you down on her desk and–
a key turns in the door and her eyes snap open, as do yours. not a single word is said but the panicked look you share tells all as you move back onto the couch beside ellie, smoothing down your dress. she grabs her forgotten guitar and moves it onto her lap.
and in mere seconds, the door opens to reveal a housekeeper who had used the master key to get in. and she’s clueless, though a little discomforted by the taut smiles you and ellie offer.
“sorry to interrupt you, ladies,” she offers awkwardly. “nobody has seen either of you in a long time, it was requested by president williams that we search the place.”
“ah,” ellie muses, clearing her throat before her voice can come out as weak as it feels. “i understand. we’re alright, yes, sorry, um… we needed a quiet place.”
sitting there with that prim and proper posture once again, your leg crossed over the other, you stare at ellie, resisting the urge to reach over right now and fix her hair after having ran your hands through it with desperation.
this is going to be an interesting state visit.
tag list (msg me or find my tag list in my pinned post if u want to be tagged!!): @dinasvampgf
🙈🙈 omg this fic..
#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams#tlou2 x reader#ellie williams x fem reader#fem reader#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ fanfic#ellie williams fanfic#ellie x you#ellie x yn#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x yn#ellie fanfic
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NSFW ABC - Simon 'Ghost' Riley Edition
Here he is, finally! The man, the myth, the legend! I'll be honest, I actually had a bit of a hard time on this one, and I'm still not sure how I feel about it, but I didn't want to leave you guys hanging for too long, so I sincerely hope you enjoy!
Contains heavy smut elements, so minors stay away!
warnings: senseless smut, detailed descriptions, ghost is a dirty lad but secretly a softie, hinted at female anatomy
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex):
Methodical, but not without warmth. He asks you genuinely if you're ok, if anything hurts, if you want to get in the shower or if you want him to go get a towel to clean you off so that you can lay down to rest, depending on how intense the session was - a little bit like damage control. He might take you to the shower anyways if he thinks it's the best option for you, but he'll do most of the work. He can be quite rough even when he tries to tone it down, so he wants to make sure he hasn't caused you any actual harm in the heat of the moment and he does that best by actually looking after you. He does love it if you wash him off as well, scrubbing over his chest and arms, but he won't really say much. He'll just let out a low, rumbling sigh and lean his cheek against the top of your head and honestly that alone tells you all you need to know. He lets you cup his face and plants all the kisses you want on his face and mouth, simply holding you in his arms and relishing in the moment.
Once you've started cleaning up and checking in on each other in this fashion, any extra rounds is pretty much out of the question. This is to wind down, to relax, to clean off, put on some comfortable clothes, settle back down into bed and hold each other close. Not that Simon can't go on for what feels like forever, but he greatly appreciates the peace and quiet he gets with you.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s):
As far as Simon's concerned, his body serves its' purpose well. He doesn't exactly lack confidence, but he's by no means vain, and rarely looks at himself in the mirror unless it's to get a better angle to check on wounds or to clean himself. He's found a certain pride in his arms though, mainly because he can wrap them around you like some sort of boa constrictor and there's little you can do to escape it. He finds a sort of hidden, perhaps slightly sadistic, glee in that you can't do much else but take what he gives you (he's not an asshole, though - should you give even the slightest hint that you were uncomfortable or didn't want it, he'd let you go in an instant and make sure you're ok).
As for you, he is quietly obsessed your hands and your hips. Feeling your hands roam over his body is addicting, because he's not quite used to being touched in the way that you touch him, and your hips fit perfectly in his own hands (and his own hips fit perfectly there, too). But all in all, no matter how much he loses himself in the crooks and curves of your body, it's your eyes that do him in every time. He doesn't want to admit it, but it's why he mostly buries his face in your neck or takes you from behind. Your eyes make him weak. If you look into his eyes and beg him for whatever (to slow down, to speed up, to let you come) or even worse, say his name, you'll send shivers through his entire body. He tries not to let it get to his head, but the effect that you have on him, the way something in him falls apart when your eyes meet... it almost scares him. If you get a chance to take control, even for a second, grab him by the hair and demand that he looks you in the eye when he fucks you. You'll render him not only speechless, but also absolutely feral.
He wants to be methodical about this too, but he loses himself far too easily in you, and cumming all over your lower stomach and hole scratches some sort of itch in him that he didn't quite know he had. He will keep your thighs spread just so he can watch it drip down between them, and will most likely push it into you either with his fingers or his cock, fucking you a bit more until you cum again. If he has it in him, he'll cum in you once more and spread your hole just so he can watch as it leaks back out (before fingering it back into you yet again). Won't say a word during it, but you'll feel his eyes practically burning into your skin.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically):
He will absolutely cum down your throat if you let him and you can take it, keeping a close eye on you so that you're not actually uncomfortable or struggling. Wants you to show him that you've swallowed it all down though, or spit it back out on his cock so that he can fuck it into you.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs):
Before the two of you actually got together, you had a fling with another soldier at the base. Simon never commented on it, but he kept an eye on you in case he turned out to be an asshole or something. He tried not to give it too much thought; he just wanted to make sure you were all right. Totally not because he was jealous or anything, obviously.
He was actually looking for you when it happened, he just hadn't expected to find you in this... condition. Peering around the corner, he froze when found you pinned up against the wall in an empty hallway, with this fucker's tongue down your throat and his hand down your pants, panting and moaning into the kiss. He was suddenly struck by a strong urge to grab that dickhead and throw him out a helicopter at full speed and show you that he could give you something much better than whatever this was. He clenched his fists, thinking to himself that if he had you against the wall like this, he'd make sure you couldn't stay quiet. He'd have you crying out his name, shaking and quivering, gushing all over his fingers. That pipsqueak had nothing on him.
He considered stepping in and interrupting you, some dark voice in his mind telling him to take over, but he settled on simply slipping away quietly, not being able to stop the images in his head of pinning you against the wall, or against his bed and taking you the way you deserved to be taken.
He never told you about how he saw you with that dipshit, or how it made him jealous, or how he's fantasized about you since even before that. But once he'd simmered on it for too long and he got the chance to talk to you, he told you enough for you to know that he wanted you, that he'd wanted you for a while now, and that if you gave him the go, he'd take you then and there.
Safe to say, you gave it to him.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?):
He does have a good amount of experience from when he was younger, but he hasn't really engaged in it in a good while. He has men and women offer themselves up to him at regular intervals, he just 1. never trusts a stranger enough to put himself in a vulnerable position like that and 2. isn't really into one-night-stands, even if it were with a close friend. Before you, he took it upon himself to find relief if he ever felt the need to. Now that he has you, he doesn't need anything else.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying):
He greatly enjoys holding you down in a mating press, caging you in and leaning in close to your face to kiss you or to growl something into your ears. But as mentioned before, he's a bit weaker to your eyes than he'd like to admit, so more often than not, he takes you from behind in some way, like if you're standing or you're on your knees and he keeps you upright by grabbing your arms and pulling you back into him. He prefers pressing his entire body into you though, deep and close, giving you that sense of not being able to escape him. Doesn't let you close your legs, doesn't let you shy away, doesn't let you touch yourself.
If you want to take control, and happen to get the chance, take it. As hardheaded as he is and dominant as he might seem, he molds himself by your hands like the softest clay you could ever imagine, and he wants you to use him even if he's "in charge". If you wrap your hand around his throat, it puts him almost in a daze; you can see his pupils dilate as you straddle him and grind him into you, you can hear a soft rumble in his chest as you pull his head back by his hair and trail kisses and bites along his neck. If you tell him to keep his hands off or you tie them to the headboard or behind his back, you'll see his muscles tense as he struggles against his restraints, be they physical or just in his mind.
He's also a surprisingly big fan of 69 - he likes the combination of the taste and heat of you on his face and your moans on his dick.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.):
He's no stranger to getting a chuckle out of you; you'll tease each other every now and then and he might huff out a breath in amusement at some point or other, but for the most part he's very serious. He's focused on you, how you feel, how you sound and regardless of if this is a session to rid tension and frustration, or if it's a warmer, more tender round, he doesn't want to waste any energy on anything other than fucking you.
He might chuckle when he sees your eyes roll back or when you can't quite form coherent words, and he'll grin when he fucks the living daylight out of you after you've laughed just a little too hard at him for any reason. Some sort of semi-sadistic humour is ever-present, but you'll never hear him laugh outright, and you'll be too far out of it to focus on anything anyway.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.):
He's not a very hairy man, but the hair that he has is mainly light and surprisingly soft, fairly thick and curly-ish. He might give it a trim every now and then for the sake of comfort, usually before heading out for deployment, but other than that he doesn't give it too much thought. He couldn't really care less about the presence or lack of body hair, be it on himself or on you. If you were to ask him nicely to trim it down because maybe you don't like the way it feels, then sure. But if you were to find it yucky for any reason, he'd tell you to grow up. There's nothing to be grossed out about - he's very clean.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect):
He might not seem like it, and he surely doesn't say anything about it, but he greatly cherishes the moments where he gets to lay down with you and relax. There's no need to say anything, no need to do anything; you can just lay in his arms and listen to his steady heartbeat. As rough as he can be, he genuinely loves cupping your face in his hands and kissing you deeply. He's not very vocal about his emotions, but he makes sure to show them to you in your most private moments.
He wants to hold you when he gets the chance to and having you lay on top of him helps ground him. He once told you that he enjoys the weight of you on him and you offered to get him a weighted blanket, but the only weighted blanket he wants is you (also he doesn't want one with him to base or to missions - it sends him into a far too deep of a sleep than what might be safe in a time where he needs to be ready spring to action at any moment).
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon):
He has convinced himself that he doesn't need to. Not that he doesn't get the urge to, because when time away from you has dragged on, he gets... restless. He's usually way more irritable in the last week or so on a mission, and the ever so observant Soap might joke that the lieutenant needs to "blow off some steam" before he blows off one of their heads - "if you need to sneak off for a minute or so, I won't tell the captain." ("Fuckin' shut up, Johnny.")
It's like he's come to the conclusion that he can hold out. He usually doesn't jack off on missions anyway, but it's gotten a bit more challenging now that he knows that you're waiting for him back home. He kind of scolds himself, tells himself that it was never a problem before, so why would it be a problem now? But he remembers you, he thinks of you and he misses you and so it adds a variable that wasn't there before. He tries to keep his thoughts at bay, but the longer he's away from you, the more salacious the thoughts become. He might get off once while back at base and in the privacy of his own room, depending on how much longer the mission is going to last, but if it's just a week or so left, he'll hold off and his teammates will just have to deal with his bad mood. Just be prepared for when he gets back to you, because he will definitely not use his own hand now that he has you.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks):
He's not a fullblown sadist, but he does have a little vein of it running through him. Tying you down, blindfolding you and just generally forcing you to be at the mercy of him scratches some sort of itch in him. He's not doing it as a form of punishment though, and it's not meant to be just for his own pleasure; it's more like he needs to prove something to you almost. It's like he wants to give you everything he thinks you deserve, even if it's more than you can handle. If you listen closely (if you even have the ability to still hear him), you might hear him whispering for you to keep going, to keep cumming, to give him more. You will need to establish some safewords with him right out of the gate, because he overstimulates you like it's his only purpose in life.
Because of the great satisfaction he gets from feeling your weight on top of him though, having you ride him in pretty much anyway you can is greatly appreciated. Sitting on his face, on his dick, on his thigh - just any way that he can have you draped over him is top notch. He might actually have more of a masochistic side to him, because he likes it when you scratch him and pull his hair, and he loves feeling like he's practically drowning in you. Overstimulating him might not be an incredibly regular occurrence, but if you get the chance to, do it, and do it well.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do):
Bed. He'll have you anywhere within the confines of your home if that's what you want, but he prefers the bed. That's where he can completely unravel you and it's where he feels it's safest. That's not to say he hasn't fucked you in the shower or on the dinner table, or that you haven't had your moments where you've barely made it in through the front door. You rile him up easily; almost too easily. If you were to undress right out on the street, he'd probably fuck you right there.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going):
For anyone who doesn't know him, it's easy to think that he just never experiences emotions. The deadpan stare, the monotone voice, the way that he just seems generally disinterested in pretty much everything. But you know better. The way he tilts his head towards you, the way he discreetly takes a deep breath when you say or do something suggestive, the way his eyes follow your every move with a hooded gaze, or the way he reaches out to you but waits for you to close the last bit of distance between you. You know it well.
As established before, he has a weak spot for your eyes; when you look at him and tell him what you want or just that you love him, he feels something in him melt. Fluttering touches over his shoulders or chest, nuzzling your body in close to his and wrapping your arms around him are all ways to warm up that supposedly "cold" heart of his.
Keep in mind though, he's a man of action. If you tease him, make sure you're ready to face the consequences - especially if you're in an environment where he can't just have you right away.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs):
As rough as he might be, whether he has a sadistic hint to him or not, he would never want to do anything that would leave scars on you. Bruises, hickeys, scratches, sure. But never anything that would actually leave any sort of permanent mark. Also doesn't want to cause you any actual physical pain; he can overwhelm you, he can leave you feeling sore, he can make you feel like you've been run through a cycle in the washing machine, but he'll never hurt you.
If you tell him that something doesn't feel good or hurts or that there's something that you just don't like, rest assured he'll back off in an instant.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.):
Sit. On. His. Face. Fucking sit on it and do it now. He will give you no chance to escape his grip or tongue, and he will keep you there until you're just shy of passing out. He loves rendering you nothing but a quivering mess, but he also finds it strangely grounding - the weight of you, your taste, your heat; it's like it heals something in him. He'll tell you to get on him whenever he's in a bad mood or stressed out, and you can never quite predict how long he'll go on for, but you often get to see a part of him that you think no one else has ever seen. He practically suffocates himself in you and you'd be more worried if you weren't so lost in your own pleasure. It's almost something masochistic in him that has him drive himself towards blacking out, because if you can manage to look at him the few times that he actually breaks away to breathe, you'll see his eyes roll and his eyelids flutter. He'll take a huge gulp of air and slur out something about how he wants, no, needs more before he dives back in with a rough moan. Doesn't let you pull away when you cum, because he wants you to cum right down his throat.
When you suck him off, he leans back and watches you, breathing deeply and heavily, and lets you take as much of him as you can in whatever pace you can. If you're struggling, he'll tell you that you're doing good and that he's proud of however much you can fit in your mouth. If you're not struggling at all, he'll chuckle and maybe call you a "dirty little one", but he loves it. As mentioned before, he wants to see you either swallow his cum down, or spit it back out on his cock to keep going, but he also loves shoving his tongue into your mouth, letting any residue of him left dribble out onto your chin.
He might not go for 69 every time, but he takes great enjoyment in knowing that you're trying your hardest not to stop sucking him off even if you're losing your mind at the whim of his tongue. Crosses off multiple things on his list, and so when you do indulge in it, he makes sure neither of you are rushing it.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.):
He goes at very steady pace; it's not slow, but it's not fast either. He can speed up to drive you to the edge faster or slow down to draw it out, but no matter what the pace is, you can bet that it'll be deep and heavy. Somehow, it never gets predictable. You joked with him that not only is Simon 'Ghost' Riley an expert at sneaking up on enemies on the battlefield, but also at making you cum when you least expect it. It got a little chuckle out of him (and about four orgasms out of you), but it's true. You don't know how he does it, but somehow he brings you to climax even when you don't feel like you're that close to it. It's like he knows exactly where all your little buttons are - even the ones you didn't even know you had.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.):
He's disciplined and he's headstrong, but he doesn't have the patience or fortitude for quickies - once he's started, he'll be going for a good fucking while. Besides, you need a proper warmup before you can actually take him - he's far too thick otherwise. If you're feeling impatient and like you really can't wait, he'll give you his fingers, but just know that it is taking every single microscopic little grain of him to not just rip your clothes off and fuck you good.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.):
He won't do anything outright sexual in public - at least not that anyone sees or notices. He'll whisper into your ear and sneak a few touches here and there, he'll give you a heated gaze that is gone as quickly as it appeared, and for a while you'll think you're going insane; it's like he's using his tactics against you, to tease you.
Other than that, he wants to keep that stuff inside the safety of your own home for the most part. As far as experimenting goes, he'll give most things a whirl if you really want him to, as long as it's within some realm of reality.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?):
He will practically never be the first to tap out, just so you know. While he might not be able to cum time and time again, he makes sure that when he does cum, he makes it count. You could swear that you've had like 5 rounds back to back, but honestly, it's usually 1-2 rounds that just feel like they last an eternity because he uses practically all of him to make you cum as many times as he can.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?):
Not for him, no. As for you though? More tools to make you cum, pretty much.
He doesn't think he needs them, and he doesn't actually care all that much for them; but every now and then, when he's feeling like a little shit, or he thinks you've had it coming, he'll have you close to passing out if given the chance.
He's not threatened by them. He knows that he can make you feel so much better than whatever toys you have. You're free to use them as much as you want when he's away, but if you use them while he's there, he'll either take over to "show you how it's done", or he'll take a seat and tell you to give him a good show.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease):
It's probably safe to say that Simon is not a very fair man. He'll drive you up the wall when he feels like it, acting like everything is right as rain while you feel like he's already fucked you just from looking at you.
He'll deliberately slow down or pause when he can tell that you're close and grin lazily at you when you complain, he'll whisper the absolute filthiest things to you while passing by before moving on like nothing happened, he'll sneak up on you just to snatch you up and kiss the breath out of you before he just walks away.
So if you can, give him a taste of his own medicine, will you? He deserves it.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.):
Very quiet other than maybe a few sighs, grunts and whispers. Every now and then you might get a moan out of him, but he tends to hold them back. Not because he's ashamed or anything, but because he'd much rather hear you. He'll whisper endless praise and dirty nothings to you, but that's the most you'll get out of him, sound-wise.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character):
This was actually insane, and very unlike him. Well, having you up against the wall and hanging in his arms by the crook of your knees wasn't entirely unlike him - but fucking you in someone else's bathroom definitely was. You had been invited to a little dinner party over at Mactavish's place, and the whole team and some of their older colleagues were there. You were having a good time, and you were sure that Simon was, too, but at one point during the evening, he told you he needed your help with something. You were none the wiser to his plans - he had some stitches on the back of his shoulder and you thought that maybe he just needed you to check on them.
He took you into the bathroom, closed and locked the door and before you could get a word out, he turned to you, unbuckled your belt and pressed you up against the wall as he shoved his hand down your underwear. He covered your mouth with his own, making sure to keep any suspicious sounds confined to this room.
You completely lost your sense of time, but at some point, after fingering you into oblivion, he'd tugged your pants halfway down your legs, hoisted you up and there you were; trying your absolute hardest to stay quiet while you hung helplessly in his arms as he fucked you without even a moment's pause. He didn't say a word, didn't utter the slightest sound, he just stared intently at you and rammed into you with a determination that you'd never seen in any other man before. You didn't know how you were going to explain the weakness in your legs and the sweat and flush of your face once the two of you went back out to the party, but at the moment, you were far from capable of forming any sort of coherent thought anyways, so you'd just give that job to Simon once he was done.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes):
Sits somewhere between 6-6.5 inches, and he's quite a bit thicker than most others that would have the same length. As mentioned before, you need a proper and thorough warmup before you can take him and he's generous with it, so even though you always feel the stretch when he pushes into you, it's never a painful one. It just leaves you speechless, that's all.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?):
While he always wants you near, it's not always sexual. He needs the calm and domestic moments just as much as he needs the more intimate and sexual ones. That doesn't mean it doesn't happen often though; it might not be an "every single day"-thing, but it's not far from it. He's clear to let you know when he wants you, but he likes it more when you initiate.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards):
He actually stays awake for a good while after that, taking the time to simply listen to you breathe and feel your heartbeat against his chest. He usually doesn't like complete and utter silence because his ears are most likely ringing from chronic tinnitus, but the sounds of your sleep are just enough to keep him distracted from it. He also takes this time to commit everything about you to memory (as if he hasn't already). He oh so carefully caresses your cheek, strokes your hair and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, but you never notice, and he'll never tell you. Once he's satisfied and once he's finally convinced himself that you're not going anywhere, he'll finally settle and close his eyes to sleep.
#cod mw2#cod mw2 fic#simon ghost riley#simon riley#cod ghost#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley smut#simon riley smut
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All Work And No Play Makes Dull Boys
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
Word Count: 1.1K
Warnings: Suggestive Themes
Author's Note: Guess who's back with an actual fic? Fantastic render by @ave661 Go check her out! Enjoy! -Thorne
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If there’s one thing Simon “Ghost” Riley knows about Spades, it’s that she, in all her infinite glory, never spares any expense when it comes to how she looks, and what her gear is. And the same has begun to occur for the 141 as well. It started small, bits and pieces rearranged, a few new knives and sidearms to try out, then it went to bigger things, new rifles and shotguns, and then it hit the gear. At random moments, Spades had pulled each man of the 141 into her room and stripped them down to their tighty-whities before she measured each inch of them—Soap and Gaz had gone willingly, it took Price a few days to convince, and Ghost? Ghost didn’t step foot in her room or anywhere near her when he learned what she was doing—no need though, she already had what she needed from him.
***
It’s a late evening in October when she comes to his door. She doesn’t bother knocking, never does, and unlocks it with a key she had made (he has no idea when and how she did it), stepping into his room. He looks up from the mission brief he’s been reading while laying on his bed, an unimpressed, almost annoyed look in his eyes as he glares at her.
“Don’t look so happy to see me, Simon,” she says with a sickly-sweet tone. “Someone might accuse you of actually liking me.”
“Out.” Is all he says.
She tuts and beckons him with a finger. “Come.”
They stare at each other for a solid minute before he exhales through his nose, annoyed and exasperated, and rolls off the bed; he stretches and rolls his shoulders before following her down the hall into her room.
“I’m not getting measured,” he says as he closes the door behind them.
“As if I don’t already have your measurements, Simon Riley,” she retorts and now he’s a bit unnerved because he’s never given her time to measure him, so how did she already have them? She doesn’t answer his silent question, merely walks to her room divider, and rolls out a fancy looking set of black gear. “I give to you, ‘The Gilded Reaper.’” She announces with a note of pride in her tone and a helluva lot of it in her expression.
He takes one look at it. “I am not wearing that.”
“YOU HAVEN’T EVEN TRIED IT ON!” Spades yells and thrusts her hand to it. “I spent a lot of time and money on this, and you are going to try it on for me whether you like it or not.”
“Am I?” he dares and it’s obvious he’s going to go for the door as she points at him.
“If you make me chase you down and drag you back here, I’m going to make you regret it entirely, do you understand me, Simon Riley?”
He’s almost tempted to do it just to see her follow suit with her threat; he glares her down before he lets out a long breath. “Fine.”
Spades smiles and chirps, “Thank you.” Simon dips behind the divider, tugging the mannequin with him and she rolls her eyes. “It’s as if you think I haven’t seen anything you have before.”
“It’s called ‘common decency,’” he retorts. “Maybe you should look it up.” She throws one of her shoes over the divider at the tuft of blond hair she can see. “That hurt.”
“I meant it. Now hurry up, I want to see it.”
It’s another few moments before he steps outside the divider, and she stares wide-eyed as he does.
“Well?” he asks, and he really means, “This is so fucking stupid.”
Spades takes her time walking in circles around him, pulling at belts, at the straps, checking if everything is fitting well enough before she stops in front of him, staring up into his golden mask.
“I like it,” she notes, and her voice lowers an octave, a tell-tale sign that she’s being honest; she only ever does it with him. “I think it’s you.”
“It’s ostentatious,” he deadpans.
“Careful, that’s a big word for a caveman’s brain.”
He rolls his eyes, not taking the bait of the insult. “I can’t wear this out on missions. It’s practically a neon sign that says, ‘Hey, shoot me!’”
Spades reaches up and strokes the gold mask. “Who said it was missions?”
Simon freezes up, body still as he gazes at her, and Spades looks awfully innocent as she dips her fingers below his golden mask, feeling his masked face beneath. It’s not often that Spades can render Simon completely silent, the two practically have a raging desire to be each other’s constant pissing match that there’s always something to say, and yet, he’s still quiet as she pulls her hands away and twirls around him to his back. Her hands slide up his sides beneath the cape, feeling firm muscle beneath.
“I made this just for us, Simon,” she coos, hands slipping down to his belt where she tugs it. “I was thinking we could take a trip to the mountains where I have that cabin and we could…play.”
“You mean hunt each other,” he breathes, and it’s low and heavy, she knows exactly what he really wants to say.
“All work and no play makes such dull boys,” Spades muses. “We’ve spent so much time working, Simon, we’re awfully dull, don’t you think?”
He lets out a low noise from his throat, a warning that should send bells off in her head, but all it does is urge her on, a grin worming its way onto her lips.
“Please, Simon,” she begs and lifts a leg on the outside of his hip, her thigh just beside his hand. “It would be so much fun.”
His head tips to the side, hand grasping her knee in an iron-clad grip and he spins them; Spades is back up against the wall in a flash and she gives him a flash of white teeth in a smile as he takes her jaw in a firm hand, tilting it up to get a good look at her. “We haven’t played hunt in a while. What makes you think you’ll win this time?” he challenges.
It’s true, Simon often wins their games of hunt, but it’s only because Spades gets tired of waiting and lets herself be hunted down. “Call it a feeling,” she replies, tugging at his center belt. “Should I give you the coordinates for our game, Ghost?”
He leans forward, close enough that she can feel the warmth radiating off of him and he remarks, “I’ll get ‘em on my own.”
As he pulls away, she watches as he turns and stalks for the door, only stopping when her voice reaches him in a provoking, “May the best hunter win.”
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader imagines#simon ghost riley x reader imagine#simon ghost riley imagines#simon ghost riley imagine#simon riley x reader#simon riley x reader imagines#simon riley x reader imagine#simon riley imagines#simon riley imagine#simon riley#ghost x reader#ghost x reader imagines#ghost x reader imagine#ghost imagines#ghost imagine#ghost#spades#cod imagines#cod imagine#cod#mw2#simon ghost riley#call of duty
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Jungkook
𝓘 𝓛𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓨𝓸𝓾 (say it back): Sour 🔞
You know people think you're just using him. And he knows that people think he's just getting used by you. And maybe it's time for him to stand up, and make some things clear.
Tags/Warnings: Girly!Reader, Introvert!Jungkook, non-idol AU, opposites attract AU?, established relationship, Angst, Major Fluff, some drama, Slice of Life (like Good Girl AU for example), mc is kook's biggest simp, kook is kind of overwhelmed by her love sometimes, but it's fine they both cute, Jealousy oh no, possessive kook!, multiple rounds, boob slapping like.. once, cumplay, creampie oops²
Length: Long, didn't count oops
A/N: There is no taglist. There is no taglist. There is no taglist. There is no-
-> Masterlist
━━━━━━━━━━.~°♡°~.━━━━━━━━━━━
"Ah, by the way!" His trainer asks, while Jungkook quietly unwraps his hands after his boxing training. "I wanted to ask you, who was that girl you were with when you came here earlier?" He asks, referring to you.
Jungkook doesn't really know any other girls besides you, after all. So it has to be you- you've tagged along to the boxing studio with him, leaving him to walk inside on his own however since he'd offered to simply take you along, so you could go to your appointment at the hair salon while he was working out, and bring you back home once he was done.
"..my girlfriend." Jungkook says, continuing to unwrap his other hand before flexing the fingers a bit. It's a bit odd to say it out loud- but not a bad-odd. Just unfamiliar.
Maybe because he doesn't say it much.
Maybe he should.
"Really?" His trainer wonders, looking genuinely surprised for a second as he looks at Jungkook- who feels a bit challenged, almost. Jungkook has noticed that the start contrast between you and himself has caused some people to look at him with almost something akin to pity- as if he's the prey in the cougars claws, about to be chewed and spit out once you're done with him. He gets it- but at the same time, it irritates him to no ends, because you're pretty much the sweetest cursing little angel he's ever met up to this point.
So it's unsurprising that his answer might sound a bit more offended than he's intending it to. "Yes." He answers, brows lowering.
"Oh, wow." His trainer seems to catch up on his mood. "No offense, really! Just- surprising, you know?" He tries to explain himself. "You're always so quiet, and you know… Are you sure she's in it for the right reasons?" He asks, and at that, Jungkook puts everything down to look up at his trainer with a serious face.
"What are you implying?" He demands to know.
"Man, I'm just saying! You know, I know girls like that. They use guys like you! They might fuck you well but-" He tries. "-I just-"
"You want to fuck her instead, is that it?" Jungkook calls him out, and by the look on the guy's face, Jungkook had hit the jackpot. And just as he gets up to walk closer, the door opens, and you walk in with a rustling paperbag that smells like takeout food.
"Uh.. am I interrupting something?" You ask, a little unsure- and both men stare each other down for a bit longer, before Jungkook walks off to walk over to you instead, hand on the back of your neck as he gives you a short but heated kiss- rendering you a bit speechless for once. He's never this bold in public.
What's going on?
"I'll go shower real quick, okay?" He tells you, and you just dumbly nod, left by yourself as he walks past his trainer into the changing rooms and showers.
"I'm just- not gonna ask." You just say, more or less to yourself as you sit down in a chair close by, throwing one leg over the other before pulling out your phone.
"He's just having a bad day." The trainer tells you, walking closer. "So, you and him?" He asks, and you nod at that, big grin on your face.
"Yep!" You chirp, tapping away on your phone.
"Don't make him spend all his money on you." The trainer tells you, somewhat joking- though you can hear the hint of honest threat in his tone, which makes you stop what you're doing. "I know he's a softy, but come on. Just cause he's easy doesn't make it right." He says, and you become a bit insecure at that.
You know that's what most people must think of you- but hearing it said out loud makes it sting just a bit more.
You want to stand up for yourself like you always try to do- but somehow, you can't, not in this moment. Not because you don't want to- but because you're just realizing how little people think of Jungkook. You're not even the victim here. It's not your place to even be offended in the first place.
You can take the weird rumors about yourself, the glances and looks, the stereotypes and boxes people put you in. But the fact that just because Jungkook cares, and loves, and treats the people around him with kindness, he's seen as someone weak and pitiful, just makes you angry. Because if you stood up for him right now, it would only cause more issues- the guy in front of you would only feel validated in his opinion, would never let your boyfriend live it down that his own stupid dumb girlfriend had to defend his poor self from the world.
"I'll send you my cancellation for my membership via E-mail." Jungkook suddenly says as he emerges from the showers, grabbing his bag before he helps you stand up from your seat, brushing down the back of your skirt with his palm. He almost instantly reaches for your small bag as well, holding it for you while you put your phone away.
"Hey man, I was just looking out for you-" The trainer starts, but Jungkook puts himself between him and you as if to prove a point, calmly speaking.
"Don't. I'm very much capable of doing that myself." He says, simply takes his bag to throw over his shoulder before he takes your hand in his, and leaves the gym.
It's only in the car that you dare ask what's happened. "Is it because of me?" You wonder, and Jungkook perks up at that, face completely devoid of the anger he'd had just a few minutes ago.
"What do you mean?" He asks, even his voice not in the slightest irritated any longer.
"At the gym, earlier." You say, opening the paper bag to steal some fries for yourself. "Like, you said you'll cancel your membership and stuff. And you love boxing." You shrug, and he shakes his head.
"I think I just realized that I need to start putting my foot down." He offers, changing lanes as he drives you both home. "And the membership was also pretty overpriced anyways. There's other gyms I can check out." He tries to joke, though you don't seem too convinced next to him.
"You know I'm not using your for, you know, sex and money right?" You ask him, and his eyes widen. "Like, I really really do love you-" You begin, and he laughs.
"I know that, don't worry." He tells you. "Is that what he told you?" He wonders, and you shrug.
"Lot's of people think that." You huff to yourself. "Comes with the style, I guess. And like, I'm not mad about that- I don't really care if people think I'm a money-grabbing whore." You laugh, making him cringe. He doesn't like you talking about yourself like that. "But it just makes me mad that people think you're a pussy who needs to be babied all the time." You complain.
"So you're getting angry on my behalf?" He chuckles, and you nod, crossing your arms.
"I hate when people don't take you seriously." You huff to yourself, staying quiet the entire rest of the ride until you both reach his apartment where you're staying over at tonight- when his arms reach around you from the back, his face hiding in the crook of your neck where he kisses the skin.
"I love you."He hums, and you shiver at the sound of that sentence. He doesn't say it often, his love language non-verbal, rather expressing his feelings in acts of service or fleeting touches. So whenever he does say it, it's special. "And I'm.. really happy you're my girlfriend, you know that?" He says, and you shrug.
"I'm.. you know, I'm sorry I'm always so much trouble." You sigh, but he shakes his head.
"You're not." He denies. "I need to.. say it more often to people. You know. Stop introducing you as.. you, but as my girlfriend instead." He tells you.
"You don't have to-" You start, but he chuckles.
"No, I do." He argues gently. "Because I can't stand it when people think you're easy to get. Or that you're someone that's available in the first place." He complains, walking you closer to his small bedroom, where he suddenly picks you up and let's you fall on the bed, your body bouncing from the impact a little.
"Jung-" you start, but he's already crawling closer to you on hands and knees, leaning in.
"You're mine." He almost growls under his breath, kissing you feverishly. You're not sure what's gotten into him, but you're also not complaining- or maybe you do, as you hear fabric rip and buttons drop to the floor around the bedroom.
"kook!" You whine. "That was one of my favorites-!" You complain, while he's busy pulling your skirt from your legs.
"As if I care." He growls, before he pulls you closer by the backs of your knees. "I like that lingerie though." He almost purrs, hands pulling on the straps of the lace body, letting them snap back against your skin playfully so.
"Yeah I like it too-" You pout, crossing your arms. "-So don't break it." You huff, making him raise one of his brows before he moves to push your wrists into the bed up above your head.
"I won't promise anything." He comments, before he leans down to kiss you, lips eager to claim your breath while his hands roam around your body, grabbing onto the softness of your breasts before they travel lower, over your sides, stomach, one pulling your leg up, while the other moves between your legs.
Your toes curl as he finds a way to slip his palm inside, teasing you for a good while before he throws his shirt over his head, shedding the rest of his clothes as well, before he grabs at the lace bottom of the lingerie.
It rips as he creates an opening, making you whine.
"I'll buy you a new one." He hums, one of his hands pumping his cock before he guides himself into your leaking core, pushing in slowly to help you adjust. "I'll buy you ten, I don't fucking care."
"You'll rip them all.." you sigh partially because of the feeling of him filling you up like this.
"Damn right I will." He chuckles darkly, pulling out before he pushes back in.
It's the start of what you think you know by now- but he's catching you off guard as his hips move at an aggressive pace, skin against skin echoing in the room as he clenches his jaw, a hard grip on your thighs, making you wonder if he'll leave bruises.
You wouldn't mind if he did.
Your head spins as you're left taking whatever he gives you, one of his hands leaving your thigh to instead pull down some of the straps on the upper part, pulling out your tits for him to see freely move. He can't help but grab onto one of them, hold it before he slaps it once just to see how it feels.
You, meanwhile, feel like you're having an out of body experience. You can hear yourself moan almost obscenely, whining and whimpering as he pounds into you, but its like your body doesn't respond to you any longer, as you arch your back and curl your toes.
And like the devil he is, he doesn't slow down. Instead, he grabs your hips, and adjusts you to lay over his thighs, gaining the ability to aim even deeper inside. And your body freezes up as you hit your orgasm full force, thighs shaking violently as he slows a bit, erratically moving to reach his own high as well, your cunt clenching around him tightly.
And as he finally cums, pushed as far inside you as he can, he finally gains back the ability to year, and notice his surroundings.
Your chest is rising and falling rapidly, your eyes are closed, skin shining in a light layer of sweat as he can't help but run his hands over the pale pink lace lingerie covering your body.
You're just so pretty.
He moves the straps and lace around, helps you out of the garment, slipping out of your core for a moment, causing you to whine in complaint. "So pretty.." he hums, as he finally has full access to your bare skin, lips peppering kisses from your stomach up to your neck, hands never staying still. "All mine." He speaks against your skin, when you feel him suddenly harshly suck and bite at your neck and shoulder.
"J-jungk-" you stammer, legs rubbing against one another as he chuckles.
"Already wanting more?" He wonders, and you nod, hands clinging onto his arms. "Think you can take it?" He jokes, and you nod again.
"Please-" you beg, and he leans back, pulling you with him to straddle his lap, adjusting you properly on his still sensitive cock. You've never had sex in this position before,but you immediately decide that it's one of your favorite- the way he holds you, his body all over you, the way he's able to provide such an immense feeling of safety and comfort to you, is otherworldly almost.
Or maybe it's just jungkook himself. You're not sure.
He's overly sensitive but pushes through that first wall, moves a lot slower and more sensual now as he helps you bounce on his lap, before you instead start to roll your hips into his- earning a very vocal response from him as he holds onto your ass, assisting you in your motions while your hands are on his back, nails scratching a little over his skin.
And he loves it, loves the idea of wearing your marks just as much as you do his.
He really should show his love for you more often. It's still a bit odd to him why you're with him in the first place, but he should stop trying to figure that out- because that's not what it's all about, isn't it? Your relationship doesn't need any other reason to exist than live alone, and love is something you both have a lot of.
The love for your body, your mind, your soul. The love for the way you nap around whenever you can in the most random of places. The love for your random kisses you place on his cheek, on his neck, on his hands, on his shoulders. The love for your cooking, your care and your hugs at night.
He's got so much love for you, and he should show that.
He's sure he can't cum again, but he knows he's reaching his second orgasm however, hips moving erratically just like yours as you pick up your pace, lips chasing after his, as he licks at your lips, open mouthed kisses sharing breaths as you reach your highs.
You cling onto him for a good while after, feeling him fill you up once more as his cock spurts his release up your cunt, making it leak out down your legs, as he lays your limp body back down on the bed, pulling out.
His hand can't help but try and push his seed back in- and when he notices he can't, he instead uses it as lubricant to instead let his thumb circle over your pulling clit, a frail whimper coming from you as he softly lures another orgasm out of you, his breath finally normalizing as he watches his cum leak out of you.
He's tired, exhausted, but forces himself up at least to help you and him clean up and so you go pee, while he simply throws the stained sheets into the wash. Neither he nor you get dressed after showering and drying up, rather opting to sleep wrapped in simple blankets on the couch instead, holding each other close.
And the pain in his muscles the next time he wakes up is so worth it-
Just like the honestly amusing sight of you struggling to walk straight.
#bts imagine#bts fanfic#bts fic#jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook x reader#bts jungkook x reader#bts jungkook fanfic#bts jungkook imagine#bts jeon jungkook x reader#bts jeon jungkook imagine
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Internal Affairs #1: The Rookie
By the third week, Lydia’s revulsion was turning into arousal. By the third month, she struggled to remember the assignment at all.
I’m a cop, she reminded herself before rolling her hips, sliding down the john’s cock until it was pressed deep up inside her pussy. A soft moan staggered from Lydia’s lips. Again, I am a cop. Hips roll, cock deep, soft moan. I am a cop. Repeat until the john was satisfied.
It was all part of establishing her cover. Nobody would believe Lydia’s work if she didn’t do the work. Why couldn’t she enjoy it too?
I am a cop.
But she wasn’t a cop. Not really. It had once been Lydia’s dream. When she was eleven, two officers visited her class. The man looked like any other cop on the eleven o’clock news: wide shoulders, short cropped hair, carrying all that “fuck your civil rights” privilege with pride. Most of the boys stared at the gun on his hip, waiting for the little shit brave enough to ask, “Have you killed anybody?”
But it was the female cop that Lydia couldn’t take her eyes off of. She respected the children, spoke to them like people. Not like her partner who addressed the class like he was facing a courtroom. She didn’t look like any woman cop that Lydia had ever seen either. She was tall, and a statuesque beauty made her all the more intimidating. The boys only saw the man and the gun, but Lydia saw the looks between the two. How the man would turn to his partner before giving an answer. He only did it a couple of times, but it was enough for Lydia to know who was really incharge. No one had told her a woman could have that kind of power.
But Lydia’s dream of carrying a badge didn’t make it past high school. She ultimately chose a criminal justice degree at Carpenter State University over the police academy. She never expected that it was less of a path to a future, and more of a strange, meandering way back to her dream.
I am a
“...mindless whore,” the john said as she rode him.
Lydia stared down into his eyes. His face twisted between embarrassing expressions as he fought back the inevitable orgasm. The way he grunted his words, it surprised Lydia that the john could even try to talk dirty to her, most of his mental bandwidth allocated to holding out as long as he could. Lydia wasn’t cheap and she only took one shot for each service rendered. Every John wanted it to count.
“Is that how you like it?” Lydia playfully responded. “Young, dumb, blonde bimbos without a thought in their heads?”
The john grunted something back that a generous listener might say sounded like, “Yeah.”
“I am a mindless whore,” Lydia bit her lip. “My mind is just a wet hole aching to be filled by its Master’s cock.”
“Fuck,” the John gasped. “Say it again.”
“I am a mindless whore.”
“Again,” he pleaded.
“I am a mindless whore!”
“Again!”
I am a mindless whore.
Lydia had been applying to law schools when her professor approached her with the opportunity.
Lydia,
I was hoping you could set some time aside in your calendar to meet with a friend of mine from RPD. I think you’ll find it educational. If you’re interested, shoot me over some dates and I’ll set up the meet.
Best,
Dr. Bloom
Lydia met with the friend from RPD the next week in Dr. Bloom’s office. Lieutenant Barbara Keyes sat across from her at Dr. Bloom’s desk. Dr. Bloom briefly introduced Barbara then excused himself to let the two of them talk. Barbara wanted the meeting to feel informal. “Call me Barbara,” she quickly said when Lydia referred to her by her title. But the location betrayed the intention. Not a lot of people knew that Lieutenant Keyes was there.
Lydia did her best Sam Spade, studying the woman across the desk. Mid-thirties to early forties, no ring on her finger. More likely a divorcee than a spinster. A married to the job kind of cop, she figured. But most important was the confidence–Lydia realized as she watched Barbara speak that she carried herself with the same confidence that had first caught her eye all those years ago in her sixth grade glass.
They chatted for a moment about Lydia’s education, Barbara’s background, and quickly found a comfortable place where they were just talking like old friends until Barbara said, “So Charlie tells me you’re his best student."
“Best,” Lydia laughed. “I don’t know about best–”
“I do,” Barbara cut her off. “I’ve known Charlie a long time and I trust his judgment.”
Lydia sighed, considering her next move, then decided that it was best to just cut through all the bullshit. “So is this a job interview?” she asked.
Barbara sat straight, unmoved by Lydia’s candor. “Lydia, I work in IAD. Do you know what that is?”
“Internal Affairs,” Lydia blinked.
“Unfortunately, I find myself in the position of trusting absolutely no one in the Romero Police Department, which means when it comes to recruits I need to look in unorthodox places.”
“Like Carpenter State,” Lydia said.
“That’s correct.” Barbara nodded. “Now, on top of my position in IAD, I’m also the deputy director of the RPD sex work task force. Since the task force formed two years ago, we’ve managed to clean up much of the areas around Carpenter State, which is a point of emphasis for the commissioner. That being said, River City remains frustratingly impenetrable.”
“I don’t understand,” Lydia said. “So is this a job interview…to go undercover?”
“I need young, female cops,” Barbara said. “But more specifically, I need young, female cops who don’t look like cops.”
Barbara was right. It was unorthodox, even downright unethical. But it was hard for Lydia not to admire the risk she was taking. Barbara Keyes was the kind of woman who valued education over brute force, that’s why she’d turned to Carpenter State for new recruits. And Lydia understood her reasoning too–her dream of becoming a cop came to an abrupt end in high school after a highly public, sweeping police corruption case in Romero upended the department. It had shaken Lydia’s faith in justice, but she couldn’t totally let those values go. If anyone else had come to her with this offer, asked her to play the role of a prostitute as an inexperienced, secret cop? She wouldn’t have just turned them down. She would have blown the fucking whistle. But Barbara was different. Lydia couldn’t stop seeing that cop from sixth grade. For some reason she wanted to do what Barbara asked of her. She had no choice but to accept.
I am a mindless whore.
Lydia always came with the john. That was what made her one of the most popular and expensive whores in River City. She’d been trained that way. She’d been trained that way because it made her a good cop. A good whore was a good cop. But she always seemed to forget about that when she was on top of them, bracing herself against the headboard as her body rocked from the most powerful orgasm she’d ever experienced. It was always better when she was with a john.
They’d leave the money on the small table by the door and before they exited, Lydia would always offer something to keep them thinking about her.
“Your cock felt so good,” she said, dreamy eyes selling the illusion that this fuck was anything more than a transaction. “Next time I’d even let you cum inside my pussy.”
“You do that?” the john smiled.
“Well,” Lydia pondered as if she wasn’t reading a script. “I’d have to charge an extra five grand. Secret menu, you know? High premium for the risky stuff. But it’s worth it for my favorite.”
The john melted as she batted her eyelashes. They never had that kind of money, but goddamn they would fuck anyone over for that opportunity.
Lydia worked tirelessly through the night. Fucking, sucking, even occasionally offering her shoulder to cry on. She didn’t stop until she saw the pale blue light of the morning sky through the hotel room’s yellowing curtains. She took a quick shower, collected the evening’s take into a fat envelope, then flipped through her phone’s camera roll.
The johns blurred together until they became one universal face. The only way she remembered them was by the pictures. She insisted on snapping a photo of every john’s ID before taking them to the hotel. “For security,” she would innocently say.
Nobody had been busted by Lydia yet, so why should they suspect that it was anything more than a safety precaution? The johns liked Lydia and they wanted her to feel safe. But truthfully the IDs were part of the operation, one of the few things that actually made her feel like she was a cop. Barbara had been frustratingly vague on the details of her job, but Lydia knew that she was looking for somebody. Many of the johns were cops, and given Barbara’s role at IAD, Lydia assumed that she was trying to catch one of her own. But who?
She never recognized the faces. And try as hard as she could, she couldn’t match the names to them. They were right there next to the pictures, but something made it impossible for her to think of them as anything other than, “john.” The blue-eyed john, the brown-eyed john, the john with the scar next to his lip. Lydia selected the photos from her roll, a dozen for this night, and forwarded them in an email before deleting them from her phone forever.
Why had she done that? The details of her night’s work were better off with someone who understood it. No reason to burden herself with that knowledge anymore.
Before she could finish dressing, the room's phone rang. She was reluctant to pick it up, but the mechanical sound of the old fashioned landline phone drew her toward it. Something is wrong, she thought. I shouldn’t answer this.
It rang again, and she was powerless. Lydia lifted the receiver from its cradle and pressed it to her ear.
I am a cop.
“Good morning, Lydia,” the voice on the line said.
I am a cop.
“Good morning,” she slowly replied.
I am a
“I trust the evening was productive.”
I am a
“Yes…” she breathed.
I am
“And the IDs?”
I am
“I forwarded them to your email,” she said.
I
“Good,” the voice said. “And the night’s take?”
I
“Twenty-four grand.”
I am a mindless whore.
“That’s very good, Lydia,” the voice replied. “You know where to drop it off.”
Everything Lydia believed she was evaporated at the tinny sound of the telephone’s ring. By the time she heard the voice speak, that Lydia was already gone, replaced with the mindless whore she’d been trained to be. And she was one of the best in River City. She couldn’t fight that truth no matter how hard she tried to lie to herself. It felt too good.
“Tell me what you are, Lydia,” the voice commanded.
“I am a mindless whore,” Lydia said without hesitation. Speaking it out loud now drove her to the edge of another orgasm.
“That’s right,” the voice said, “And that’s all you’ll ever be.”
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♡⸝⸝nsfw alphabet: samuel seo
cw: fem bodied reader + established relationship.
an: for the two anons !!! i nearly combusted while writing this because he's so daddy. thanks for requesting
A - Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Samuel during aftercare is going to highly depend on how much he likes you. Period. Assuming he likes you a lot, his aftercare is going to be catered to what you like. You want him to give you a massage after he fucks you into the next dimension? Done. You just want cuddles and praise? Okay.
B - Body Part (their favorite body part on themselves and their favorite body part on their partner)
Sammy has big tiddies. We know this. They didn’t show up out of nowhere though. Lots of love and care and nurturing went into growing those tiddies. They’re all natural and organic. So obviously, Samuel is very proud of his pectoral muscles.
On his partner, Samuel definitely likes hips and ass. They’re his favorite place to grab; inside and outside of the bedroom. Skinship with him outside of sex is limited but you can guarantee he’ll always have a hand on your hip when the two of you are out and about. When no one’s around he’s the type to randomly grab a handful of your ass for fun.
C - Cum (anything related to 💦💦💦)
This man!!! Samuel wants to cum inside you. Every. Single. Time. If his cum starts to leak out of your pussy, best believe he’s gonna fuck it back inside of you. Don’t even look at him unless you’re on some form of contraceptives or you’re ready to be a mommy tbh. If he’s cumming in your mouth, he’s gonna make you swallow every single drop. He’s blessing you with his seed, you better not waste it.
D - Dirty Secret
Samuel is pretty upfront with you when it comes to his kinks but the one thing he has a hard time admitting to you is that he wants to have a threesome. He’s very possessive over you and he would never hear the end of it if he told you that he’d want to take turns and simultaneously wreck you with Jake or maybe even Goo. Another reason this remains a dirty secret is because he’s lowkey insecure that you might end up liking Jake more than him or something.
E - Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
Look at him…of course this man has experience. Samuel is a bit smug about how experienced he is too because he thinks you’re adorable when you get jealous. Asshole smh.
F - Favorite Position
Full nelson or mating press. I refuse to believe otherwise. Both positions render you in a state of helplessness where you have no choice but to keep that dick inside and take whatever he gives you.
G - Goofy (are they more serious or playful in the moment?)
Very serious. Almost never playful. Even when Samuel teases you, it’s not playful in the slightest; it’s just mean.
H - Hair (how well groomed they are)
Another high maintenance man who takes his manscaping seriously. He likes to keep it trimmed and tidy. If he lets it grow out too much, how are you supposed to see how big he is-
I - Intimacy (how romantic are they in the moment?)
This man is so emotionally unwell lol it’s so hard for me to imagine Samuel being romantic during sex without you pleading for some tender loving before the two of you get in bed. Once he gets in the zone, it’s hard for him to switch off the part of his brain that wants to rearrange your guts.
J - Jack Off (how frequently do they masturbate?)
I feel like Samuel is one of those guys who wakes up with morning wood that doesn’t go down for like thirty minutes if he doesn’t do something about it. With that being said, if he doesn’t have you to help him, he probably starts every day jacking off in the shower. Other than that, probably isn’t gonna masturbate on his own very often.
K - Kink
Samuel just screams dom okay. He wouldn’t say no to subbing for you if you really, really wanted him to; but he would have a hard time taking you seriously. So if you want to dom him, you better know exactly what it takes to break him and make him submit or else he’s gonna end up overpowering you.
Samuel is the man you go to if you want rough, degrading sex that turns you into a dumb cockslut !!! He’s a big fan of titles; daddy, sir, master; whatever. Address him properly if you want to cum.
Spanking - Samuel loves bending you over his knee and spanking your ass until red marks in the shape of his hand appear on your skin. He thinks it’s so precious how you get so wet from him slapping your ass, he’ll probably slip his fingers inside of you as a treat.
Degradation - Fucking you like a slut isn’t enough. Samuel is going to verbally remind you of what he sees you as in that moment. He’ll save the praise for after sex if you don’t immediately fall asleep on him.
Dare I add in brat taming to his list of kinks- no explanation needed there lol.
L - Location (favorite places to do the deed)
In front of a mirror is one of his favorite places to have sex. Samuel already knows that when he fucks you in doggy or the full nelson position, you’re a wreck but actually being able just how pathetic you look really gets him going.
I already mentioned that he starts his day jacking off in the shower, so of course, he’s gonna love it if you join him.
I don’t think he would want to fully fuck you in public but he’d definitely get a kick out of fingering you under the table at dinner or something like that.
M - Motivation (what turns them on and gets them going)
I don’t think there’s anything in particular that will get Samuel in the mood for sex. You could literally just go up to him and start making out with him and his not so little friend will get hard. He secretly likes it when you play with his nipples too.
N - NO (what turns them off or something they’re strongly against)
Our dear Sammy cannot stand being bound. We know this. He probably wouldn’t care too much about having you be bound either tbh. Using his own strength to keep you in place is too much fun for him to want to rely on handcuffs or something else.
O - Oral (preference for giving or receiving, skill level)
Samuel enjoys giving as much as receiving. He feels that it’s an absolute necessity to eat you out before he fucks you. He’s got an anaconda in his pants, if he doesn’t spend enough time prepping you, it’s gonna take forever trying to squeeze inside of your pussy.
On the receiving end of things…let’s just say you’ll learn very quickly how to control your gag reflex. The man fucking your throat is his way of warming up before he gets between your legs.
P - Pace
Samuel jackhammering into you is too predictable. I think he has some range. If you tell him to go faster, he’s gonna go slower and vice versa; all in the name of reminding you that he’s the one in control—not you.
Q - Quickie (opinions on them/how often)
Samuel is never gonna be the one to suggest a quickie. If you want one, he’s gonna tease you with his fingers then punish you at a later time by edging you like crazy.
R - Risk (do they like to experiment or take risks?)
Not very experimental. Samuel would honestly get butthurt if you suggested trying something new and ask you if his dick isn’t satisfying enough lollll He’s gonna be a little hesitant to try new things.
S - Stamina (how long do they last? How many rounds would they like to go for?)
I’m telling you…these Lookism men are built different. Stamina is out of the roof. How long the two of you have sex is totally dependent on his mood. Some days he’ll want to go for one really long round, other days he’ll want to go for a bunch of shorter rounds.
T - Toy (how do they feel about using them?)
If you have any toys, don’t let Samuel find them. He’s a meanie. He’s gonna use your vibrator on you until you’re shaking and crying.
U - Unfair (how much they like to tease)
One of the biggest teases. I said Jake was borderline mean, Samuel is a straight up demon. Edging you brings him more satisfaction than actually cumming sometimes.
V - Volume (how loud they are and what sounds do they make?)
Other than dirty talk, Samuel makes a good amount of noise. He moans like a slut when he’s filling you up with his cum.
W - Wild Card
I will not be elaborating or explaining. It’s just a vibe.
I think Samuel secretly likes getting absolutely hammered with you and having sloppy, drunk sex.
X - X-Ray (what’s in those pants?)
LOOKISM IS FULL OF BIG DICK BANDITS. We’ve seen his bulge so many times. It’s canon that he’s packing. I hate using numbers but I think he’s just shy of 8 inches long and thick af.
Y - Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Samuel is actually very good at keeping it in his pants. He needs to have some sort of restraint if he likes to edge you and tease you as often as he does. Usually, he just picks up whenever you want sex and that’s when he gets horny.
Z ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 - (how quickly they fall asleep after.)
Samuel probably will only go to sleep immediately after sex if he knows he has something to do in the morning.
summary: Samuel is a gentleman in the streets, rough and nasty in the sheets. What else is there to say. He is pure sex on legs.
bonus!
“F-fuck, stop clenching so tight around me, you slut.” Samuel groans out, feigning annoyance as his calloused hands grip at the tender flesh of your thigh. Entrenched in the warmth of your walls, the fat tip of his cock was pressed into your sweet spot and every little movement he made caused your walls to quiver around him. Even with slickness from all your juices gushing around his length, it was almost impossible to move. Pushing your legs further against your chest as he presses more of his weight onto you, your ankles are almost by your ears in this excruciating folded position.
“I can’t help it...” You mumble, biting your lip as you look up at him with an impish expression; pupils dilated with a mix of lust and affection for the man towering above you. “I love the way you fill me up.” Your naughty words have Samuel’s cock twitching inside of you before his expression darkens as he meets your gaze.
“Yeah? You love it so much you don’t even wanna let me move?” He asks you mockingly, his dark hair falling over his eyes and casting a menacing shadow on his face. Pushing his hips into yours despite already being balls deep into you, his cock stirs your insides and has your toes curling. Samuel continues to give you these shallow thrusts, aggressively pivoting against your walls and rubbing you just the right way until your walls finally let up on his length.
Finally able to draw back, Samuel wastes no time thrusting into you hard; pounding you into the mattress, making you writhe against the sheets and cry out in ecstasy. Your nails claw at the inked flesh of his biceps as you endure him treating your body like you were his fleshlight. His deep thrusts are consistently hitting that special spot within your walls like it was an off button for your brain. The smile of pure delirium that spreads across your face only encourages Samuel to keep bullying the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your body starts to tremble as you rapidly approach your orgasm but you know better than cum without his permission. The longer you try to hold it off, the more you waver.
“You’re not cumming already, are you?” Samuel questions you, focused on pumping his dick in and out your walls that were trying to hold in place. “You know how I feel about whores who cum without my permission.”
A pathetic whine escapes you as your brain struggles to string together the words to plead for his permission. However, even with your best efforts to stave off your climax, you feel your pussy gushing around his length that was still slamming into you. Your eyes widen in surprise, looking at Samuel helplessly before he smirks at you. His thrusts slow down, eventually coming to a halt before he pulls out of you and releases you from the mating press you were in.
Sitting back on his heels, Samuel examines your limp body, tsking in disappointment. He could never tire of the sight of you laid out like this but there had to be consequences for you not being able to follow the one simple instruction he gave you. Samuel may have been the one who fucked you so good you couldn’t think but that didn’t change the fact you had broken a rule.
“You were doing so good up until now.” He sighs, running a hand along your inner thighs then giving a harsh slap to your sensitive pussy that causes you to yelp in surprise. “Pick your punishment quick so we can get back to having fun.”
#lookism x reader#lookism smut#lookism headcanons#samuel seo x reader#samuel seo smut#samuel seo scenarios#lookism#lookism fanfic#lookism imagines#lookism manhwa#lookism webtoon#junggunz.txt
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3, 5, 7, 8, 12, & 14
they all don’t have to be in the same story but that was the most i could narrow down 😭
oh no, these are perfect! Thank you bae 🤭 just gave me a good idea with this!
cw: hotel sex, dirty talk, choking
“And you told me you weren’t gonna come see me…what happened?”
“Well, turns out..what they said was true. You really are one of the best voices of our generation..your shows are actually pretty entertaining.”
words and glances exchanged between two secret lovers in the middle of the hotel room. Bodies only inches away from one another and lust rising from your auras like steam from a hot shower..this was the scene that reoccurred and played out so many times in the not so distant past. Messing around with and becoming the sneaky link to a world famous musician wasn’t something you’d ever foreseen yourself doing. You knew the industry types all too well and how they collected girls of your variety like the awards they accrued from their labors. Even still, the attraction between (y/n) and EJ The Don was one that could only be described as fiery, passionate and whirlwind. The two of you had quite a long conversation the other night and he could tell by the end that you were playing to hard to get; not wanting to give him too much as other girls had done prior. When asked if you’d come see him perform while he was on tour, you’d respond dryly with a: “we’ll see.” Of course, he knew you were merely giving him the cold shoulder just so he could have a bit of a motivation to make it impossible for you to leave later on. Faint traces of his cologne and weed smoke hit your nostrils as he leaned forward and brushed over your arms.
“I’m glad you think so…and I’m very..very glad you showed up. I mean, I saw you dancing around. Looking all good and shit.”
the compliment making your heart flutter; feeling him run a finger underneath your chin and licking his lips. Currently, he had you up against the wall, kneecap nudging open those thick thighs that were exposed by the revealing fishnet dress you were sporting. Tall heels supporting that curvy body and all he could think about was how you lucky he was to have you on his roster. Hell, he’d clear up all his prior engagements if he got to fuck on you all the time. Batting those pretty little lashes, you’d gaze up at him and move closer.
“Yeah? You think I look good?”
questioning with only a hair’s breadth in between you two. That pearly white smirk on his face, chain hanging from his around his neck and two silver bands on his tattooed fingers as he cupped them around your chin. He couldn’t get enough..he craved you so badly, he could practically taste it. But luckily, he wouldn’t have to wait too long to do so. You were all alone, in private and free to express all the filthy thoughts plaguing your minds. Cupping your beautiful face between his fingers, Eren would tease his lips against yours before initiating a series of steamy kisses. Smacking your tongues and twirling them together.
“Of course..but I think you’d look so much better with my hands around your neck..” “You might be on to something.” lightly asphyxiating your breathing as he fed you those sloppy pecks. Ones that had you melting in his grasp and made it even easier to get you out of your clothes. “EJ..” “I know, baby. I know you want me to fuck you..you’ve been so patient with me.” One by one, he’d strip you of those tiny little articles of clothing until both of you were rendered nude. Ravaging one another like wild animals until he hoisted you mid air, prompting you to put your arms around his neck. Holding you in those toned, tattooed arms. And once you did, he’d begin to bounce you up and down on that thick cock. Slamming up into you with full force..dripping wet only a few strokes in. Your nails clawing into his back and those balls slapping against your entrance. Creaming all down his cock and making a mess everywhere. Something you had been waiting on for a while.
“Ooh shit!…”
“God..you feel so fucking good. This pussy’s ‘s so good.” Grunting into your ear like a man deprived. That dick swelling inside of you and stretching that entrance open. You’d find yourself burying your face into the crook of his neck and moaning out for more. “No, don’t look away..keep your eyes on me. Let me see how much you love this dick.”
#cherry’s asks 🍒#prompt games#prompt fic#aot x black reader#black fem reader#musician x influencer au#black reader#eren x black fem!reader#black reader smut#musician eren#aot smut#aot imagines#aot drabbles#eren x black reader#eren x black y/n#eren smut#eren jaeger x black reader#snk eren#eren jaeger imagines#eren jaeger smut#eren jaeger fic#eren jeager smut#black fanfiction#aot au#smut drabble#imma def incorporate all of these into a fic w him cause what#ugh i need him#cw smut#cw sex mention#cw choking
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𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙆𝙏𝙊𝘽𝙀𝙍 '𝟮𝟰 ; 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙈𝙎𝘽𝙔 𝙅𝘼𝘾𝙆𝘼𝙇𝙎 [MORESOME + BUKKAKE]
m actually really proud of this qofqown, it’s a mess, i had a bit more inspiration as i was a little burnt out >:(( but, i really hope i did i justice trying to work out the friggin positioning @lovinglyselfish dis one is for u stonks
warnings ;; moresome, mild language, double penetration, slight praise kink with degradation, assisted masturbation, bukkake, cumplay, possibly cum eating, marking, slight voyeurism on behalf of one or two of the teammates, belly kink, belly bulge, cumflation sort of, i think thats it for now etc update !!! manager!reader etc
by qtipcottonbuds 2022. do not repost.
𝗠𝗦𝗕𝗬 𝗝𝗔𝗖𝗞𝗔𝗟𝗦 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥;
“You’re doing so, so well, baby. Servicing the team like this. Taking me, like this.”
Bokuto lies beneath you, on his back, flat atop the bed sheets.
He’s leaving soft kisses across your temple, running a hand through your hair, threading fingertips through the messy tufts; and you, you’re slumped across his bare chest, fucked out of your mind, babbling incoherent nonsense into his skin. Bokuto can just about make out a few words in-between the slurring, the drawn out phrasing of ‘more, please.’
Each thrust, deep-seated and measured, nudges further and farther in, kissing your insides, rubbing up alongside gummy, ribbed walls - in tandem with Atsumu, situated behind you - fat glans, slits weeping, brushing and knocking up against one another.
Abruptly, Atsumu hauls you off from the comfort of Bokuto’s embrace, dragging you upwards by the back of your head. It’s harsh, carnal, and you’re left keening out from the sting. His fingers clench into your hair, tugging on the roots - but, it enables him to keep you stable against his own chest, neck arched, and hands loosely hanging at your sides.
“Messy thing, ain’t ya? An’ Bo, ya can’t hog ‘em all to yourself, sharin’ is carin’, yeah?”
Atsumu swipes the saliva, collecting in the divots of your lips, with his thumb; your chin is decorated in drool, glazing over the skin sloppily, and Atsumu holds his tongue, biting back any crude remarks - it wasn’t as if you were coherent to acknowledge his words. Cognitive functions, or what was left of them, had been rendered temporarily - you, having been reduced to a default of whimpering and airy whines.
“‘Sumu, they do need a little help, y’know? Considering how cock-drunk they are.”
Tilting your head, still lax in his hold, Atsumu guides you to face him, eyeing you carefully, “Ya still in there, ‘lil manager? Too much dick for ya to handle?”
The only response you offer, far from distinguishable, instead jumbled and blurred, is a whine of ‘no.’
You couldn’t even fully register his sentences.
Dismissing the pathetic attempt of an answer, he readjusts his grip in your hair with one hand, the other situated on your hip, Atsumu noses against your jugular, nipping and soothing at the inflamed skin, his eyes meeting with Hinata’s.
“Whaddya think, ‘Sho? Think they need more? Might make ‘em think a ‘lil more clearer.”
Taking the opportunity at the acknowledgement, Hinata wordlessly shoves himself into your chest, burying himself in the heated flesh; lips searching for your nipples, to suckle, to pinch at the buds with his canines, pulling them back and forth teasingly. Rendering them swollen and puffy.
Fisting his cock, unrestrained and firmly, pulling at the skin, he guides the head of his cock, reddened and engorged, over the material of your loose fitting MSBY Jackals jersey (a personal anniversary gift into your first year of managing the team). It had been discarded onto your lap, caught in-between your thighs.
“Uh-huh, mh- give them more and more and more, Atsumu, wanna give them everything.”
Whining high in his throat, Hinata muffles himself in your skin, the steady stream of thick pre-cum increasing in volume, bubbling over his slit.
“So needy; it’s embarrassing.”
Pulling you from Atsumu’s grasp, now having relaxed entirely - his concentration now notably focused on the creamy ring coating both the head and base of his cock, being pushing back and forth with each roll of his hips - Sakusa, kisses you aggressively - there’s no implications of kindness in it whatsoever. It’s pure lust and nothing more.
Biting on your bottom lip, the skin breaking somewhat from the pressure, he takes the incentive to push forward, past your lips; said tongue slides across your teeth, brushing against the divots and crevices, before returning the focus towards your own tongue, sucking harshly. With his palm, Sakusa encases your own hand around his cock, guiding your thumb with his own, to dig into the fat slit, urging more pre-cum to bubble up.
“Hinata’s needy, but you, you’re pathetic,” its murmured, hushed against your lips as he pulls back momentarily, “A so-called, prime example of a manager; a pretty slut to be whored out to the whole team. Maybe, we should do this more often to keep you in check, what do you think?”
#qtipcottonbuds#qtipscottonbuds events#kinktober#kinktober 2022#kinktober with qtipcottonbuds#msby jackals#msby jackals smut#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#bokuto koutaro#Bokuto Koutarou#atsumu miya#atsumu smut#sakusa kiyoomi#sakusa smut#hinata shoyuo#hinata shoyo#gender neutral character#gender neutral reader#gender neutral y/n#gender neutral insert#haikyuu x gn!reader#haikyuu x gender neutral reader#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x male reader#haikyuu x female reader#msby jackals x reader
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could you please do 94 or 74 up to u with uzui or rengoku?🥰
warnings: kissing, established kohai x senpai relationships, polyamory(Tengen's wives exist in this one), thigh riding, mentions of punishment
prompt list here
You were starting to get on his last nerve. Uzui knew you’d make him frustrated and agitated, but he never knew to what degree it would be. Even his wives don’t frustrate him this much, and sometimes they can be a handful. But you’re his little kohai, and that’s what makes all of this so different.
Sure Uzui could have his wives anytime he pleases, but he has a very strict schedule when it comes to spending any kind of time with you. You trained hard and became a very skilled demon slayer in hardly any time. You impressed a lot of the other Hashira, but it was your flashy fighting style that really caught Uzui’s eyes. You were as flamboyant as he was.
The first days you spent time training together were difficult. You did have a bit of an attitude to yourself, but Uzui put a stop to that so quickly. All he had to do was make you cum, and he made you cum so hard that first time.
The more you continued your training seriously and successfully, the more your senpai would please you. And he was certainly good at it too. Most of the time, you left the training grounds jelly-legged, dazed and just dripping with his seed. Uzui made the excuse that he had to fill you with his seed to protect you, and to let everyone know who you belong to.
None of the other Hashira asked any questions, but they all knew what was going on anyway. It was Tomioka who made a comment at first, and he once had to help you to your room when you were so disoriented from the rough fucking you just experienced. He knew something was off, but he couldn’t tell what was going on when you and your senpai got any time together alone.
And now that everyone else knows, Uzui is angry with you. He never really wanted the other Hashira to know he was using sex to motivate you. It had been such a dirty little secret for him to fuck you whenever convenient, but now that everyone knows, it’s just not as thrilling. He knows he’s still going to fuck you, but today you’re going to pay for it dearly.
After a round of sparring, Uzui commands you to go take a bath and then wait for him in your bedroom. You know exactly what that means, and you don’t want to find out what his wrath might be like today. So you scamper out of his view and grasp, and you make your way to the bathroom.
While soaking in the warm water, you do well to groom yourself. Uzui always wants you prim and proper. You know better than to go against his preferences, so you groom your pubic hair into a little heart just for him. After the bath, you slather on his favorite moisturizer to be soft for him. Then you spritz some of that perfume you know he’s crazy about.
Uzui settles on your bed, and when you come back into the room, he grins at your appearance. You’re wearing just a soft cotton nightgown, and it looks so good just hanging off your body like that. He pats his thigh and you scurry over to him. He helps you onto his thigh, and your whole body reacts to the sensation of him touching you.
“You know, kitten,” Uzui begins before leaning in to kiss your lips, “I’m not very impressed with you.”
You swallow hard, “I didn’t mean for this to happen, Tengen-sama.”
Uzui chuckles darkly, and he cups your chin. He tilts your face so you can look deeply into his eyes, and you’re rendered speechless. There’s a dark look of lust in his eyes, and you can tell he’s going to punish you in ways you probably don’t want to fathom.
“You can make it up to me,”
Your eyes widen, “How? Tell me, and I’ll do it.”
Another chuckle erupts from his mouth. He loves how eager you are. You just have no idea what kind of cruel punishment he might have in store for you. You just want to please your senpai, and that makes him so hard.
So he spreads your legs and sets you on his thigh. His strong hands push and pull your hips in a steady pace, and the friction of your bare clit on his pants make you moan. The more he moves you around and guides you to move, the wetter you get. It’s all starting to come together now.
“The only way you’re getting off is on my thigh. Do you understand me, kitten?”
You’re begging him to reconsider. You need much more than just riding his thigh for stimulation, but you don’t have much choice. He lets go of your hips, and you whine from him stopping the actions of pushing and pulling to ride his thigh.
“You’re a big girl, you can do it by yourself.”
#bacon.writes#uzui tengen#uzui tengen x you#uzui tengen x reader#uzui tengen x y/n#tengen x you#tengen x reader#tengen uzui x you#tengen uzui x reader#uzui x you#uzui x reader#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#kny uzui#kny tengen
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A teeny Boston fix-it fic
Had some feelings about Boston's ending (like everyone on this website), decided to channel them into fix-it fic (like half the people on this website). Please enjoy this missing scene that would have fixed everything for me had they shot it (or something like it). [Edit: A slightly amended version now lives on AO3.]
New York, February 2024
The text comes while Boston is enjoying a post-fuck joint at the window of his shitty shoebox apartment in Washington Heights.
“Huh,” he says, passing the joint to the boy next to him and unlocking his phone. The guy takes a hit and blows the smoke out the window, elbows propped on the windowsill. He leans over Boston’s shoulder.
“That’s fucking cool,” he says, and it takes Boston a second to realize he means the Thai alphabet, not the fact that Boston has just received a cordial text from that shithead Mew, of all people.
“Mmm,” he says, trying to process the text. He’s high enough that he feels less relaxed and more stupid, like he’s got to parse each word individually. Mew is thanking him for the photograph he’d sent for the hostel. It looks good on the wall, he’s written.
“Anything important?” the boy next to him asks. He’s blonde, with shaggy, tousled hair, now all the more so for the way Boston had pulled it while he had him bent over his bed. They’d met at a bar not long after Boston had arrived, and now they have a nice little booty-call thing going on. The guy is a graduate student in something Boston doesn’t give a fuck about – biochemistry? bioengineering? – and he probably couldn’t find Thailand on a map, which is fine by Boston because he couldn’t find wherever this guy grew up in on a map, either. He has the vague impression of the middle of the country, something something deserts and corn. They know no one in common and have nothing in common, which is also fine by Boston. He’s learned now not to fuck anyone he might end up liking.
The only problem is that the guy’s name is Nicholas, of all things. “Nicholas or Nick,” he’d said to Boston, when he’d first sidled up to him with the promise of sex in his eyes. “I don’t care which.” Boston has never once shortened it, even though he knows his accent renders the syllables just a little bit off.
“Important?” Nicholas repeats, and Boston realizes he’s been staring at his phone screen for too long. Six weeks ago, even a month ago, when he was lonely and exhausted from operating in English all day, he would have said yes, and maybe could you get out of here, I’ve got to make a call. But now that he’s found his feet and daily life comes a bit more automatically, he’s not so sure. Mew and his sanctimony and Nick and all of Boston’s mistakes are so far away.
“Nicholas,” he says, instead of answering. “You wouldn’t catch feelings for me, would you?”
Nicholas looks alarmed. “Uhh. Look, no offense, because you seem like a cool dude, but I’m super not looking for anything serious right now. I’ve got so much work with school, and I just thought we were blowing off steam—”
Boston can’t help but laugh at his own panic reflected in someone else. “It’s good, it’s good,” he says. “Relax. That’s what I want, too.”
Nicholas takes another hit. “So what, ex-hookup texting you?”
“Ex-friend,” Boston says. “Long story.”
“Oh,” Nicholas says, nodding with the wisdom only half a joint of primo cannabis can confer. “I lost friends when I came out, too.”
Boston snorts. “It’s not that. I fucked his situationship.” He’d learned that word from another hookup a couple weeks back, and he loves it. Excellent fucking idiom. “He got a recording of it and threatened me that he’d play it for my dad –”
“The fuck?” Nicholas says. “Jesus. Dude.”
“What?” Boston says.
“That’s like, deeply fucked up.”
Boston shrugs, feeling half a step behind. “It was my fault,” he says.
“Bro,” Nicholas says. “I think that’s like, a crime.”
Boston can’t quite figure out what to say to that. He’d thought Mew was taking it too far that day, but no one else has ever suggested that Boston deserved any less.
But then, Americans are quick to tell people to fuck off. And Nicholas doesn’t have the whole story.
“He’s talking to me again,” Boston says, showing Nicholas the phone, which he can’t read so why did he just do that? “I tried to say sorry before, but he didn’t forgive me.”
“Do you forgive him?” Nicholas says. “I mean, is that ‘I’m sorry I tried to revenge porn you’ in Thai?”
“Um,” Boston says. “No?”
“Well then,” Nicholas says. “You didn’t ask me, but I’d leave that shit on read.”
Boston blinks at Mew’s text a couple of times. His head is clearing a bit. Maybe he doesn’t need, like, closure or anything. Maybe he’s a dick, but maybe his old friends are dicks, too, and maybe he can just … try not to fuck anyone’s situationship in the future. To the best of his ability.
“Yeah,” he says, putting the phone down. “Yeah, okay.”
#sorry i just needed literally one person to suggest to boston that maybe he'd been wronged too#and for boston to have his character growth not amount to nothing in the last 4 minutes#oh no i'm writing my opinions in the tags#only friends the series#only friends fic#boston only friends#only friends fix-it fic
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Rating the TriStamp Designs based on Suitability for Desert Travel
So, to give this post some context, in my character design class from two semesters ago, it was a super big thing for our professor that characters were dressed to the environment, ie hot weather causing folks to wear short-sleeved clothes, or combat focused characters dressing based on their style of combat and mobility requirements. I was doing some sketches yesterday and realized, man, some of them are actually fucked when it comes to the environment itself. And...well, here's my hotcakes.
Zazzie the Beast: 9/10
Clothing is the loosest out of the group, with the lightest over all colors. The outfit has not just one but two possible ways to cover the face, such as the mask and that scarf thingie. The main reason I'm marking the fit is for the pants, which would give them one weird sunburn. They'd also need more warmth once the suns go down.
Meryl: 8/10
Loose fitting and light clothing is a huge plus. She also has layers, allowing her to adjust better as nightfall hits. However, she has almost no face and eye protection, which would leave her with a nasty case of windburn.
Knives: 7/10
Tight fitting clothes trap the sweat against your skin, increasing the odds of overheating. His feet are also bare, so you know good and well that they're going to get roasted and burnt by the hot sand, causing blisters at best. However, having the cloak could, in theory, keep him cool during the day, and its looseness should allow for more airflow. Would've been a 6, but I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt when it comes to his skintight suit. Who knows, it could be some real damn breathable fabric.
Roberto: 7/10
Light colors, layer potential. He's doing really well in terms of clothing. However, a suit coat would absolutely be too heavy for day wear. Also, he doesn't have any sort of face, eye or ear protection, so fighting the sand would be difficult.
Legato: 7/ 10
Same thought process here as Roberto. His clothing is light on the outer layers, which could help with heat management. However, his under layers are black, which would make him feel a whole lot hotter in the case that he had to remove his jacket, which he probably will need to, because it looks thick as hell. No facial protection.
Wolfwood: 6/10
Dark clothes, not good. But they're at least pretty loose and unbuttoned quite a bit. He has eye protection in the form of sunglasses, which would help with both sand and UV protection. Loafers might be an issue, though. If he can't keep the sand out of them, he could end up with some vile blisters.
Vash: 4/10
Has eye protection. It doesn't look like it would block much sunlight, but it would help for the sand, so that's a massive boost. However, tell me that jacket isn't going to be hot as hell out there. I dare you. He's also wearing very tight-fitting black clothing, which is not going to work out too well for him. He also runs the issue of his prosthetic. There isn't any way for him to keep sand out of the joints, which will, after some time, render his prosthetic unusable or extremely uncomfortable. His undercut gives him an extra point, though, because it'd help with the weight of hair and help keep his head cool.
Livio: 3/10
Dark clothes, not very lose. No eye protection. He'd be absolutely fucked. Keeping his hair out of his eyes will provide a slight advantage when it comes to seeing things, but it's completely irrelevant when compared to the horrible sun exhaustion this poor man is going to face. And he's got a turtle neck so he's just going to have more sweat trapped close to his body with nowhere for all of that to go. Dehydration and heat management would be a horrible issue for him, besides the fact that the metal thing on his face would heat up from the sunlight and begin to scorch his skin or even blind him. His outfit when he was young would've been fantastic, if his shorts were longer, but, yknow, three layers of black suits.... Poor dude. Someone get this man a kool-aid pouch.
Thats all for now folks. Enjoy!
#might do a redesign based on my research#rambles#trigun#tristamp#trigun stampede#tetraharmonic#knives trigun#legato trigun#zazie trigun#roberto trigun#meryl trigun#vash tristamp#wolfwood tristamp
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In Sickness & So On | Sierra Six x gn!reader
Anonymous asked: So we're both bored and the second heatwave is getting to us so how about some Six comfort fics. I've picked a few prompts that I like the look off, so have fun.
"Don't come near me, you might get sick." "I'm not worried about getting sick"
summary: Six just has to come over at the absolute worst of times as it is, but his crowning achievement really has to be coming over to see you when you've got a belting cold.
tws: sickness, swearing
Oh, it was misery, the middle of a heatwave and you were inflicted with one of, if not the, worst colds you had ever had recently; it started out with a little bit of a cough and a blocked nose, but that soon turned to an awful fever, headaches, dizziness, nausea, a lack of appetite, sweating something awful, struggling to breathe, a cough, sneezing and a snotty nose. You did try to keep up your normal routine, but as it got worse, you found yourself being less and less able to actually do anything at all; you would just sit around watching shitty horror films and eating ice cream, as that was the only thing that seemed to calm your throat down even the slightest.
You texted your boyfriend about it, telling him not to come over, not to risk it especially not when he was being hunted by damn near every bounty hunter and any son of a bitch who wanted even the smallest bit of cash or fame or notoriety; the last fucking thing he needed on his ass right now was an absolutely belting cold that would render him bed ridden for at least a week. You told him not to bother, not to think about it in the slightest, not to bother.
It was creeping close to the evening when the door went, and although you wanted to, you couldn't get up to answer it, so you left it, thinking that if it was that important then whoever it was would contact you; there was a little commotion outside, but you took no notice, thinking it was just the local kids playing in the street due to the heat. You rolled over onto your side, coughing harshly until you gagged and retched; it wasn't until you heard the harsh thud on your bedroom floor that you turned over, grumbling softly.
Covered in dirt, Six brushed himself off as he cleared his throat and crossed the room, sitting down on the chair beside your bed, his legs spread and his hands clasped between his knees as he chewed at the inside of his lip. "I had to see you."
"You shouldn't," you weakly huffed, the breath rattling and wheezing. "Don't come near me, you might get sick."
"I'm not worried about getting sick," he shook his head, running a hand through his hair before he leaned over and gently placed the back of his hand to your forehead, a frown coming to his lips.
You were fucking boiling. A heatwave and a fever was certainly not a good concoction. When he pulled his hand away, he could feel your sweat against his skin, and he grumbled; he got up, turned the ceiling fan onto its fastest setting, and disappeared for a moment.
You heard the bathroom tap running, heard him run something under it before wringing it out a little, and you grumbled; everything felt like it was spinning, you couldn't stop coughing, it was misery. But when Six came back armed with a wet flannel, you managed to crack a small smile, grumbling softly when he shoved you onto your back and put the flannel on your forehead; it was cold against your skin, and you could feel the droplets run down you for a moment. Mixed with the cold air from the fan, it seemed like fucking heaven if you were honest.
Six took a seat in the chair again, stretching out so that he could cross his ankles as he folded his arms across his chest and relaxed against the peeling faux leather; he stole a look at you, and grabbed the television remote. He flicked it on, turning the volume down low and switching the channel to the news, and he sighed.
"Get some rest. I'll make dinner later."
"Court-"
"I said, get some rest." He glared at you as his voice got low and harsh, shaking his head. "Get some rest. I'll make dinner later."
"But-"
"If you don't get some rest, I'll get in that fucking bed with you."
"Fine," you huffed, sighing heavily and daring to smile at him. Your voice was weak and you felt like you were going to be sick, but you still managed to find enough energy to smile at him, to slowly reach out and offer him your hand. "You sure you're not worried about getting sick?"
"Very."
"Then maybe..." you let out a harsh sniff, one that sounded like there was a rock in your nose rattling around. "Maybe... if the fever dies down... we can cuddle?"
"Maybe." He took your hand, holding it tightly as he kept his eye on the news.
if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; spam likers WILL be blocked. as will blogs that refuse to reblog or to give feedback. if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG
#mlem writes#sierra six#sierra six imagine#sierra six x reader#court gentry imagine#court gentry x reader#court gentry#courtland gentry x reader#courtland gentry imagine#courtland gentry#netflix the gray man#the gray man netflix#the gray man#the gray man imagine#the grey man imagine#the grey man#ryan gosling#ryan gosling imagine#ryan gosling x reader
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Love and Neighbors
Clark Kent x Reader
Chapters
AO3
Warnings; 18+, mdni
22- Long Days
“There’s my Clark Kent,” You exclaimed as he walked into your apartment.
Clark’s smile was tired, and you could tell the day was rough. You had started to ask what was wrong but he just shook his head. Instead, he wrapped his arms around your waist as he walked you to the bedroom.
“What are you doing?” You asked with a giggle.
Clark only answered when the two of you were in the bedroom. “Honey, I’ve had a long day, and I only want to do one thing if you’ll let me.”
“What’s that?” You were liking where this was going.
He put his lips to yours, whispering against them, “Sit on my face.”
You were shocked, but not unpleasantly so. When he said it again, you could only nod your head as you were rendered speechless. Clark grinned and started tugging down the sweatpants you were wearing. By the time your sweatpants were gone, Clark tore off your underwear. Literally. He commented that he would buy you another pair if you wanted, but he just needed to put his tongue on you.
He acted like a man who was starving.
It turned you on, you weren’t going to lie. To have your boyfriend crave you sent something buzzing all the way down to your core. The room felt hotter and nothing looked better than Clark Kent at that moment. After stripping yourself off your shirt, Clark picked you up and he backed up until the two of you fell onto the bed.
“Honey,” Clark groaned as he palmed your naked ass until you had scooted up over his face. As he gazed up at your pussy, he mumbled, “You have no idea how bad I need this.”
You kneeled over Clark’s face, a bit nervous that when you lowered yourself you might be too heavy or suffocate him. Just as you were about to express your concern, he looped his arms around your thighs and pulled you down. You gasped loudly out of surprise before it turned into a pleased moan as his tongue started to explore your folds. It was small, experimental licks that had you shuddering.
Then, his tongue swept over your clit. Clark’s name fell from your lips in a slight gasp and yell. One hand entangled itself in his black locks while the other gripped the sheets as you supported yourself. He moaned at your reaction, fingers now digging into the flesh of your thighs. He attacked your clit for a few minutes, eager to get more noises from you. He sucked, licked and even tugged at it with his teeth. Clark certainly had achieved his goal because you were moaning for him to not stop as your mind slowly stuttered into a haze of being completely fucked out.
When his tongue abandoned your clit momentarily, it explored your entrance. His tongue prodded and lapped at it until you were tugging on Clark’s hair as a sign that you wanted him back to what he was doing before. When he was pleased enough from the amount of begging you did, Clark moved your hips a few inches above his face so he could catch his breath.
You whined, “Honey, please, keep going.”
Clark groaned. “I could cum in my pants just from hearing you talk like that, honey.”
You lowered yourself back on his lips, nearly demanding him to pay attention to your clit again as you slightly thrust your hips. Clark went back to his feast, eating your pussy more eagerly than before. He could tell you were close to an orgasm, and his cock was ready to cum when you did.
Boldly, Clark decided to venture a little further as he took a hand from your thigh before slowly pushing a finger into your entrance. Though he couldn’t see you, the way you super-power gripped his hair and yelled his name, you were more than pleased. When he added another finger, moving them both in a come-hither motion, your thighs practically clamped around his head.
“I’m gonna cum, Clark,” You gasped.
Clark’s cock throbbed at your words, and he found himself slightly moving his hips forward looking for some type of friction. Your taste was intoxicating him enough, but you coming on his tongue was better than any night he spent jerking off to the thought of being buried inside you.
“Do it,” He mumbled against you then moaned. All of it was too good, and he was going to burst whether he wanted to or not. “I’m gonna cum, too.”
Instantly, your pussy clamped down on his fingers as his tongue did one final stroke over your clit. You call out his name one last time, falling forward a bit as you attempted to remain in a clear enough sense to stabilize yourself.
Clark let out a moan into your pussy as his cock shot rope after rope of cum in his pants. He’d cuss himself out later for the stain it would leave behind, especially since they were work pants, but your orgasms were well worth the price. You rolled off of Clark once your orgasm had finally gone through, moving to lay beside him.
Clark wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you to him. Kissing the top of your head, he mumbled, “That was a great stress reliever.”
“Yeah,” You laughed. “I need you to eat me out more often.”
“Honey, anything you want I’ll do it.”
Your eyes wandered down to the wet spot in his pants, and your hands followed your silent command. You ran your fingers over his softening cock then down on the wet spot. Clark grunted, hips betraying him and thrusting forward just a bit.
Smiling, you looked up at him and echoed his words from earlier, “Honey, there’s only one thing I want to do if you’ll let me.”
#clark kent x you#clark kent fluff#clark kent fanfiction#clark kent x reader#clark kent#clark kent smut#superman smut#superman x you#superman x reader#dc superman#superman
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cw: dubcon, pet whump, substance abuse, ableism, classism, sexual conversation and flirting
He walked a lot looking for that prostitute last night, and it took its toll the next morning.
He can feel the awful ache on his hips and knees before he even opens his eyes, worse than the headache he got from crying.
But he also has the pet in his arms, and it gives him a wonderful smile, always so grateful for the small gentleness he gets. It seems over the moon today, having been rescued, bathed and allowed to sleep cuddling with its master on the bed.
Farlan smiles back, pets the white hair. Sometimes he regrets allowing himself to care about the pet as it only made things worse for him. Other times, seeing that devoted smile, he thinks it was worth it.
“M-m-mmor…mor…”
“Morning pet” He sits up and looks around the room wondering where he left the damn thing “Get me my cane, please”
The pet nods and rushes out of bed, walking oddly and with shaky legs. Maybe he needs the help more than Farlan does today.
Still, with some struggle it manages to complete its task.
“Good. Back to bed now” He grants him that small mercy “I’ll bring us breakfast”
The pet nods, grateful that he wasn’t ordered to go back in the middle of those people.
Farlan groans as he gets up, a sharp pain setting through his hips, but that was the harder part, as he makes his way to the wardrobe and as he struggles to get dressed he almost considers abandoning his plan and just calling room service.
But no, he wants to see if the whore is still down there and how well it survived. He doubts anyone respected any of his limits, or cared that he was drugged out of his mind.
Not that it was his problem… after all the whore had betrayed him for a little extra money. But he felt a little responsible being the one who brought him into this wolf den.
“T-t-t-t….-t-thank….” pet stutters, wrapped in blankets like a little nest.
Farlan lifts his hand and it silences and tenses up. Then he sighs - he shouldn’t do that anymore. Their therapist had said the… incident rendered him partially mute, and stopping him from his attempts would make the condition worse. Even if Farlan didn’t often want to hear what a pet had to say… he wanted to fix that. He did promise to fix their relationship, after all.
“Don’t worry, I know what you mean. I’m not mad” he explains “I just have a bit of a headache right now. So why don’t you try and get some more sleep?”
He expected a little ‘yes master’, but the pet nods and quietly seeps back on the sheets. So he fucked up that too, and might not hear pet speak again today.
He sighs, making his way to the elevator, ignoring that it still hurts. He is not using a wheelchair today, not here where all of them will fucking stare at him.
The hotel staff worked fast.
He expected to see a mess when he arrived at the hall, but they had already cleaned up most of it and set up the usual decorations and an extensive selection of breakfast food in the dining room.
Farlan could see why his father liked to throw parties here.
He scanned the room. Only a fraction of the guests were here, looking horribly hungover. He guessed the rest was still asleep or had called for room service. And thankfully his father wasn't here.
But he did find the whore.
He wasn’t allowed on a table. There were plenty of empty ones, but they would never let someone like him take it.
He figured that at least, he wasn’t kneeling by their feet licking the food out of their fingers, but sitting in a corner on the floor, surrounded by plates of every type of food. He already had eaten way more than what seemed to fit on such a scrawny body.
He’s starving, Farlan realized.
He tried to access his state, but someone had given him a shirt and briefs, both too big for him. The black dress hadn’t survived the night. His eyes were hollowed out and surrounded by black bags. He was pale and sickly looking.
Feeling the star the whore lifts its eyes and bares teeth at him, clutching a donut and groaning like he’s afraid Farlan will take it away.
“...Easy boy, easy. I’m not taking that” the whore narrows its eyes “I just wanted to see if you were still here”
“...Just barely”
“Well. Why don’t you tell me what the fuck last night was about? We made a deal”
Out of habit Farlan hits the tip of his cane on the floor twice. It’s a warning to his pet, but it means nothing to the whore.
“I don’t fully remember, to be honest” he puts the donut aside and chooses a cupcake out of the pile, licking up the icing slowly, batting his eyelashes “But you know… I’m not exactly known for my loyalty”
"Lesson learned"
“Besides” he continues, licking his lips exaggeratedly “You seemed disgusted by me last night. You only wanted me because I was the most repulsive thing you could find”
Farlan averts his gaze. It 's kind of true.
The whore sighs.
“Whatever, I don’t care. I can afford a taxi today. And I got some new contacts. It’s a good day”
“Look… did they hurt you?”
Once again he narrows his eyes, stares at Farlan for a long while, before picking up some coffee.
“A little. Nothing I can’t handle. There were just too many of them” he shrugs as if it’s nothing “I don’t know how many fucked me last night. I might need to take an STI test, I don’t know”
“How can you be alright with that?” He twisted his nose.
“Eh. It was kinda hot. Sometimes I bite more than I can chew and I have to swallow it either way” he winks.
“Oh I’m sure you swallowed a lot” he rolls his eyes.
“Anyway, what’s even your deal” he takes another cupcake, licking the icing off it and ignoring the rest “What was that all for? Your dad does seem like an ass but he wasn’t really all that upset about it”
Farlan smiles, shakes his head.
“Well, it backfired yesterday. But looking back, I think it still worked out. I got my pet back”
Orfeu makes a pause, searching his scrambled memories for it.
“...There was… a little guy tied up…?”
“Yeah. Him. He 's mine. But my father doesn’t seem to be able to keep his hands away from him. Even worse when… it’s for this”
He gestures to the tables filled with guests.
“Ooww. You love your little guy, hm?” He smirks “In love with a pet, dear?”
Farlan blushes.
“NO. NO- I mean. He’s mine. And I don’t like when they touch my things” he crosses his arms “That’s just it”
The whore just lifts an eyebrow.
“Enough to get your father to hit you for it?”
…He sees red. The audacity to talk to him like that… He tries to kick him, but his legs hurt far too much and he can’t keep balance, the whore just curling up and protecting its face, while he falls on his butt.
He groans, burning in shame as the guests have their eyes on him now. Orfeu tries to help him get up and he just slaps his hand away, struggling but managing.
“How much would you charge to just let me beat the shit out of you, freak?” he whispers.
“...Hm. Same as yesterday” he shrugs, kind of setting Farlan back. He wanted to threaten him, he wasn’t expecting this reply “...But I can’t right now. Hurts too much”
He sighs, anger subsiding.
“Man… you’re really fucked up aren’t you”
He gets no replies back.
“I’ll get going” he picks up some of the food, stacking it on his shirt and reading to leave.
Farlan follows him to the hallway.
“Wait - wait. Do you want a ride?”
He turns, frowns.
“Why the fuck would you offer?”
He doesn’t have a good answer for that.
“I just want to leave this hotel for a bit” he tries. He figures the pet will be okay for a little bit.
“Fine. But I mean it. If you try anything funky, I’ll stab you”
“I’m sure you will”
He drives according to his instructions. It leads them to the edge of the town, to a creepy looking gravel road in a forest, and he starts to wonder if he actually plans on stabbing him.
Finally they reach this tiny run down shack. Truly the stuff of nightmares. Seems appropriate for that guy, anyway.
“Thanks” Orfeu purrs “You know… I still owe you a fuck. I did take your money… and I’m not giving it back”
Farlan lifts an eyebrow. The guy looks destroyed.
“Can you even after all that?”
“Well. Honestly, I think my poor ass deserves a break. But I’ve got fingers, and a greedy little tongue” he licks his teeth and winks “Or if you are up for it, we could surely invert things a little”
“Invert?” He frowns.
“Yeah! Have you never considered getting topped?” he winks “Maybe even a little dommed, love?”
He nearly chokes, his cheeks getting hotter.
He’s never even been with anyone who wasn’t a pet. And being topped by a pet felt like an insult.
“That’s ridiculous”
“Well. You seem embarrassed” he teases and giggles, leaning closer “I’m good at figuring out what people desire. I can make you melt under my hands…”
“No. No I would not enjoy that- stop” He blushes harder, realizing he’s pressing himself against the door.
Orfeu leans back and gives him space, so he can fucking breathe again.
“Well if you don’t want that, it’s alright… But it seems to me that you are just afraid~”
“I’m not afraid” he groans.
“...Shame goes a long way to make your life miserable. There’s nothing wrong with subbing. I know what you associate it with but - it’s cathartic. It feels so intimate” he shrugs “And we can take as many breaks as you like. Go slow. Safeword if you need. You’re the boss after all…”
“Yeah - yeah I’m the boss and I want you to stop-” he demands, sweating and gripping the wheels “I need to go back now - I want to take my pet home”
“Well. Thanks for the ride then” he shrugs, opening the door ”You know where to find me”
He doesn’t reply, just speeding off from there as fast as he can.
@whump-blog
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Prank Gone ‘Wrong’! (IRL)
requested by @thatonelesbianweeb
and ily bc LEE TECHNO BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY LEE TOMMY😭🫶
warnings: swearing, tickling
DO NOT TAG AS A SHIP POST
Techno and Tommy knew that this was probably a bad idea, but they did it anyway.
Ever since the 4/4 SBI meetup, Tommy and Techno have pulled so many pranks on everybody in the SBI house, some even on each other. cut off all the power in Phil’s room while he was sleeping so he woke up freezing, super glued Wil’s door shut, managed to make Tommy believe he lost all his hair by putting a bald cap on him while he was asleep and putting cut up pieces of a blonde wig next to his head, and stealing Techno’s most prized possesion, buying one that looked like the real thing and breaking it so he thought his most prized possesion was broken.
But now this time, they were only stealing Wilbur’s guitar.
They snuck into Wil’s room and stole the guitar while he was out in the garden, and they hid it in Techno’s room.
When Tommy and Techno heard Wilbur going to his room, they hid themselves around Techno’s room. Techno in his giant walk-in closet, and Tommy under the bed. Wilbur’s guitar was also under the bed. Real smart Tommy.
“TOMMY! TECHNO!” was all the two boys needed to hear before they knew they were fucked.
Techno’s door burst open, and Tommy could see it was Wilbur from under the bed. Poor Tommy, his natural response to being nervous in situations like this is giggling. Tommy put both hands over his mouth to supress his giggles, but it rendered no help as Wilbur still heard him.
“Oh, Tommy~ I can hear your giggles.. where could you possibly be~?” Wilbur teased. He knew where Tommy was, but he wanted to build up the anticipation, to both Tommy and Techno.
Wilbur took the covers off Techno’s bed, looked behind curtains, and looked all over Techno’s room to pretend to look for Tommy. But then he entered the walk-in closet.
“Tommy~ You can’t hide forever~.” Wilbur was being a little shit, and he knew it.
It was then that Wilbur noticed a few strands of hair sticking out from a line of clothes that were hung in the closet, and at the bottom was a pile of clothes.
“Ooh, Tommy might have to wait a bit longer~” Wilbur said aloud, and he let out some giggles of his own when he heard a muffled whine from under the bed.
Techno was as still as a statue, he could just barely see Wilbur smirking through the clothes he was behind. Why did he choose this of all spots to hide!?
The clothes were moved and Techno was pulled out of his hiding place, having no time to react to immediately being pinned and a hand clawing into his upper ribs.
“WIHIHihiLBuhUHUHr! NOHOO!” Techno, honest to god, squealed as his face went bright red.
“Aww, Techno~ Look at you! You’re face has gone all red, you’re like a tomato~!” Wilbur cooed, and in response Techno only whined through his laughter as his face went even redder.
Wilbur noticed that Techno’s laughter went up an octave (or 30) whenever his fingers got closer to his lower ribs.
“Ooh, good spot, Techno?” Wilbur teased, hovering his hands above Techno’s lower ribs. “WihihiHIHlbuhur, nohoHOho! Plehehehease,” Techno pleaded, and Wilbur hadn’t even done anything.
Wilbur got off of Techno and stopped, and Techno looked confused. But he was suprised when Wilbur easily picked him up and threw him onto the bed, landing with an ‘oof.’
“Tommy~!” Wilbur called out, before looking under the bed to see the blonde haired 18 year old, curled into a ball and giggling from anticipation. “Hihi Wihihil..” Tommy giggled as Wilbur pulled Tommy out from under the bed, setting him down next to Techno.
Wilbur decided to immediately go in for the kill, because Tommy had waited long enough. So Wilbur started squeezing the sides of Tommy’s lower stomach/around his hips. Tommy lost it.
“WIHIHIHILBUHUHURR!!!” Tommy shrieked, “NOHOHOHAHAHAA! He had a hand on one of Wilbur’s wrists, and the other trying to cover his face. His legs kicked on instinct, and he was ‘violently’ squirming, as Wilbur later described it.
Techno watched the situation with a blush on his face. Wilbur saw this and decided to bring him in on it.
“Aww, does Techno want tickles too? Don’t worry, i’ve got two hands!” Wilbur teased before stopping his tickling on Tommy. Wilbur Techno closer and layed him on his stomach to tickle the side of his back, then also returning to attacking Tommy’s hips
Both Tommy and Techno shrieked. “WIHIHIHILBUHUHUR! NAHAHA NOHOHOHOHO!”
“Hmmm, maybe if you apologize, and give back the guitar, I’ll stop!” Wilbur said simply. He was acting as if he WASN’T tickling the life out of his brothers!
“WEHE— WEHEAHAHA!” Tommy was trying to apologize for the both of them, it clearly was going very well.
“Hm, sorry? What was that? I can’t hear you through all your laughter Tommy~!” Wilbur teased before lifting Tommy’s shirt and blowing a large raspberry on his lower stomach.
Tommy’s body took a screenshot and he squealed, “NAHAHAHAHAA!”
Wilbur turned Techno over and did the exact same thing he did to Tommy. “HOLY FUHUHUHUCK!! WIHIHILBUHUR NOHOHO-!”
That was when Phil walked in the room. “Oi, Wil! Don’t kill the boys!” This time Wilbur’s body took a screenshot, as he didn’t expect Phil to enter.
“What did they do this time?“ Phil asked.
“They stole my fuckin guitar!” Wilbur exclaimed, giving Tommy and Techno a look of, playful, anger.
Phil smiled at the two boys who were still letting out breathy giggles, “You guys do this on purpose, I swear..”
“Wehe’re sohorry, Wihihil,” Tommy and Techno giggled, “yohour guitar ihis uhunder the behed.”
Wilbur got up and got his guitar from under the bed, then he sat next to Tommy and Techno. He ruffled their hair and smiled, “Ah, it’s alright. I just like messing with you two.
Techno sat up, and so did Tommy. The two looked at eachother and smirked. Wilbur looked confused, “what?”
“You’ve got 10 seconds.”
“Wh- oh shit- PHIL!” Wilbur got up and ran behind Phil as Techno and Tommy started to count. “You’re on your own, go hide!” Phil exclaimed with a smile.
Wilbur booked it down the hall, he was fucked..
#fizzthelee#fizzthelee fics#lee!techno#lee!technoblade#lee!tommy#ler!wilbur#tommyinnit#technoblade#wilbur soot#philza#4/4 sbi#jesus this took FOREVER#mcyt tickle
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Finished Ink Blood Sister Scribe and had what might be my first experience that's analogous to aroace people feeling repulsed by the thought of romance and sexuality. Because it happens in this book! But more on that later.
I've already said that I like the genderflips that the author has decided to make. It's a boy with magic blood being exploited and trapped inside a gothic mansion as an adventurous girl who can't stay anywhere more than 364 days or be truly intimate with anyone travels the world, having scary adventures, all the way to antarctica. He's very fussy about shoes and cashmeres and cologne and is very sheltered. She's an electrician who can get a job at a base in Antartica. And so on.
This fantasy novel is a cobbling together of all the stuff that's been in this author's childhood popular culture, given her birth year (1987). -
There are two sisters of differing magical / powers who are separated by lies told to protect them by their parents and long for each other (Do you want to build a snow man?)
There's an evil type of book that drains people of blood (HP's Monster Book of Monsters with the PG 13 rating taken off).
There's the one legal instrument firmly embedded in the long term memories of all daughters of E.L.James (It's a silencing spell, that's all it is, but everyone calls it an N.D.A).
There's mirror portals (Alice in Wonderland, The Matrix, Dr. Norris and Mr Strange).
Both the male and female protagonists are bisexual (Ao3).
The boy keeps fainting (hot frail boys are hot) while the girl knows a bunch of martial arts (girlboss etc).
One of the most powerful ways of being magical is to be completely immune to magic (Hi Bella Swan, is that you?).
There are name drops of random singers that signify what kind of cool girl this author is - Kurt Cobain and Fiona Apple. Oh, and Smells like Teen Spirit is actually sung acapella in an attempt to create a magical connection (it doesn't work lol).
The fancy english laird doesn't want to return the priceless artifacts bought and stolen from all over the world to their country of origin because he can take care of it better. (Very topical).
The mommy who gives birth to you is not as much as the mommy who adopted you and raised you. (Very modern, very Angelina Jolie).
There are lovingly rendered details of hand crafts like ink-making and bookbinding (very cottage core), as well as an adoration of huge libraries inside big English estate houses (Harry Potter, again, and also Mortal Istruments, which is Harrry Potter).
I liked this very much, by the way. The fact that all these ideas are not in any way original and simply competently assembled did not at all diminish my enjoyment of the story being told. The thrilling, scary bits were thrilling and scary. The magical bits did invoke a sense of wonder or at minimum, curiosity.
THE PROBLEM THOUGH WAS THE STRAIGHT PART OF THE STORY. There's the sister who travels and the sister who stays in the homestead, guarding her dad's library of magical books. The bodyguard of the fussy Englishman, Colin, who is from Boston, is the first man that the librarian sister allows into her home. They ...immediately.... have the true love true blue heterosexual attraction to each other. And they have terrible horrible flirty talk and they kiss and it's like, Wait, What?
Joanna wasn't aroace and somehow didn't go insane living isolated in her house for ten years with just her dad??? She fell hard for the first man not related to her by blood that was ever invited to her house? Plus why the fuck did the author set up all this chemistry beteween Colin and his fancy English charge, the fainting magic blood having boy, who is canon bi???
The no homo of it was so, so awkward and weird. Joanna even asks Colins if he and Nicholas, his charge, aren't a thing and Colins says no, because he likes long hair. He doesn't say he's straight, or that he prefers women, which makes me think the author didn't want to say those things, because it's not true. GIVE ME GAY COLINS. GIVE ME COLINS AND NICHOLAS EXPLORING THEIR BODIES IN THE LIBRARY OF MAGIC BLOOD BOOKS. The quality of the writing for the very gross Joanna and Colin courtship had me writhing with secondhand embarassment as well as disappointment, whereas the rest of the book is snappy and polished.
That tacked on hetero romance, that happens for no reason, kind of ruined the book for me, sad to say. I was so repelled.
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