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loveinhawkins · 11 months

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Every so often, Eddie will get the bus to Starcourt Mall (because what else is there to do?) and watch the world go by.

It’s not like he’s above a cliché or two—maybe he wants to indulge in being a lone figure within the crowd. Maybe he just feels like wallowing in the aimlessness of it all, damn it.

This is where Wayne would point out that Eddie is exactly the opposite of aimless, what with how he’d stormed into the trailer last month, failed test results in hand and snarled, “Next year. I’ll fuckin’ show ‘em.”

But there’s a long time between now and the new school year starting, the summer stretching out before him like taffy. He’d tried to start his reading list early again, but that’s never done him much good; this time he’d gotten through one chapter of Moby-fucking-Dick before despairing.

So. People-watching at the mall it is.

It’s surprisingly not all that terrible an activity, apart from discovering which teachers are suddenly very passionate about jazzercise—a sight Eddie could’ve blissfully lived the rest of his life without seeing.

There’s also the confirmation that the Starcourt commercial he saw was not a vivid hallucination—that Scoops Ahoy is, in fact, real.

And so are the ridiculous sailor outfits.

Well, I’ll be damned, Eddie thinks.

Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington are an incredibly unlikely duo. It’s like the universe abandoned all sense, spun a wheel and paired them up just for the fun of it.

When he joins the line for ice-cream, Eddie initially thinks he’ll find the whole thing laughable: seeing people forced to work together when usually the laws of the universe (and Hawkins High) would keep them as far apart as possible.

But then he discovers that the ice-cream parlor is packed, one hell of a bottleneck forming right up at the counter, where folks are waiting for a seemingly never-ending amount of floats to be poured.

It takes a while for Eddie to near the front of the line; enough time passes that he honestly feels kind of bad for even taking up a spot, for adding to the workload that has Robin shouting herself hoarse with every, “Next please!”

He strongly considers just leaving, but he hesitates for a moment too long, and unintentionally meets eyes with…

“Hi,” Steve says, pleasantly enough, if a little distracted as he prods at the soda machine. He smiles apologetically. “Be with you in a sec.”

Eddie almost wants to tell him you know it’s me, right? He doesn’t.

It’s not that he expects Steve to be mean, exactly; it’s just that he’s getting more than familiar with the whole post graduation routine. It’s like there’s a secret page in folks’ yearbooks, instructing them to look at anyone still attached to high school with either indifference or embarrassment—or both.

Steve must not have got the memo.

“Next!”

Robin beckons Eddie forward with a sweeping arm gesture, looks somewhere behind him and sighs in relief, puffing out her cheeks.

“Oh, thank God. You stopped the tide.”

Eddie glances over his shoulder; sure enough, he’s the last person left to order.

“Don’t think I’ve got that power, Buckley.”

Robin raises an eyebrow. “Debatable.”

Eddie almost laughs. There was a rumour in his first attempt at senior year that he could curse people: it only came about because he ominously whispered some Pig Latin he’d once overheard Robin herself use during History, and Molly Pritchard crossed herself in horror.

“I’ll have a vanilla cup.”

“Ooh,” Robin says dryly, “adventurous.”

“Nothing wrong with a classic,” Eddie says.

Robin smirks as she rings him up. They don’t know each other that well, but there’s admittedly something nice in the distant familiarity they share; at the very least, she’s not gonna add to any potential awfulness when school starts again.

While Robin hands over his change, Steve is filling up a cup—Eddie would say he’s uncharacteristically quiet, except for the fact that he doesn’t actually know what truly is characteristic of Steve Harrington.

Plus he’s stuck on the fact that he only paid for one scoop, but the amount of ice-cream Steve manages to cram in is almost double that.

And he does this ridiculous little twirly thing with the scooper before he even reaches for the tray of vanilla.

Eddie tells himself he notices just because the move is so stupid; it’s definitely not because he’s noticing Steve’s hands in general. It’s just… eyes get drawn to movement. That’s all.

“Syrup?” Steve asks, nodding his head at the dispensers.

“Sure,” Eddie says. “Strawberry.”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “Oh, don’t do that, man. Get it with butterscotch.”

Robin’s eyes rise to the heavens, as if some longstanding argument has begun once again.

“And why should I do that, Harrington?” Eddie says.

“Because,” Steve says, like he’s patiently explaining that two plus two equals four, “butterscotch is better. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Robin parrots mockingly. She closes the register drawer and says, “I’m taking my break, Popeye. Try not to judge the customers too hard.”

Eddie’s pretty sure he hears Steve mutter under his breath as she leaves, “Seriously? You’re worse than me.”

His cup of ice-cream is under hostage, apparently. Steve still hasn’t pressed down on the damn syrup pump.

“This your usual sales technique?” Eddie says. “Browbeating the customers?”

“Only the lucky ones,” Steve returns mildly.

Eddie scoffs. “Fine. Gimme the damn butterscotch then.”

“Knew you’d come to your senses,” Steve says.

He hands the cup over without any more quips; just as he’s done with the syrup, a large family swoops in with multiple sundae orders.

Eddie eats the ice-cream while waiting for the bus back home. He grudgingly has to admit that the butterscotch isn’t bad.

But that’s not really what’s bugging him.

He has to know if it’s a fluke—if maybe, just maybe, Steve Harrington only deigned to talk to him because he was, like… delirious or something. Maybe the flood of demanding customers scrambled his brain.

Of course, when Eddie goes back to the mall, it’s purely to test his theory. Strictly observational—educational, even. Like… summer school. (Take that, O’Donnell.)

The bus drops them off a little bit before the mall actually opens, but they’re allowed inside anyway. Eddie inwardly cringes at the sight of grown adults tapping persistently on the windows of still closed stores. Jesus Christ, they’re worse than zombies.

Scoops Ahoy isn’t open yet either; Eddie’s soon witness to a very stressed looking Steve striding over to unlock the place.

He flits in and out of view for a while, taking mops round to the back, filling up the jars of toppings.

Eddie actually considers heading over to Waldenbooks to check if it’s open (it’s not like he’s coming here for one store in particular, obviously), but then he hears metal clacking against the tiles.

When he looks back at Scoops Ahoy, he spots a set of keys on the ground right at the entrance, Steve nowhere in sight.

Goddamn it. He’s gonna have to be a Good Samaritan. Ugh.

Eddie briefly looks up to the ceiling as if he can condemn the ways of the universe from here. Then he sighs, picks up the keys and steps into the store.

“Harrington, you dropped these—”

“Shit,” comes Steve’s voice from the back, followed by an almighty clatter.

Eddie hesitates before his curiosity inevitably wins out.

He goes behind the register, through the door and finds the aftermath of complete disaster: Steve standing in front of an entire vat of ice-cream that’s been dropped onto the floor. It’s splattered all up his legs, cookies and cream clinging to the hairs.

Holy shit, stop thinking about his leg hair, Eddie thinks.

Up until this point in time, he’d believed it was physically impossible to look anything other than comical in that stupid sailor outfit.

(Well. Almost.)

But right now Steve looks absolutely tragic. Like he’s a crew member on the Titanic levels of tragic, and he’s about to deliver the news that there’s simply no more lifeboats.

Steve meets Eddie’s gaze.

“That was limited edition,” he says pitifully.

They both look down at the floor.

“Well,” Eddie says. “It definitely is now. Still, uh, what’s the phrase? No use crying over spilled… ice-cream.”

“Oh, I’m not gonna cry over it,” Steve says. “I’m gonna scream.” For a moment he looks murderous. “Robin’s not coming in.”

“Is she sick?”

Steve snorts. “Sick my ass. No, she’s keeping The Hawk in business—gonna see a movie about an ice-cream parlor, something like that.”

“An ice-cream parlor,” Eddie echoes. “Um. Are you sure she didn’t just make it up?”

Steve shakes his head. “No, it’s one of those foreign—never mind.”

He cuts himself off, lifts up one foot, as if he’s become aware of his predicament all over again.

“I was fine with her ditching, she can do whatever; it’s not like we have managers checking up on us. But I forgot a huge delivery was coming, and it’s Saturday so it’s gonna be crazy, so I’m not gonna have time to put all of it in the freezer or check the stock chart, so it’s all just gonna become fucking soup, Jesus, maybe I should just throw everything on the floor and—”

“I could help,” Eddie interrupts, because apparently a little alien has burrowed into his brain and now he just says things.

Steve stares at him. “Why would you do that?”

“Yeah, uh, sorry,” Eddie says. He wishes his brain-invading alien an immediate death. “Bad idea, just—”

“No, I mean why would you do that? Dude, it’s not like I can pay you or—”

“I don’t really have plans,” Eddie says—oh great, the alien hasn’t died! “Uh, you can pay me with, like, a name tag?” What? Stop talking. “Like a souvenir?” Stop! “Oh sorry,” Steve says, as if on automatic pilot. He pulls at his shirt. “We don’t have—our names are stitched on.”

I was kidding about the name tag. Actually, maybe you should just murder me instead.

By some miracle, Eddie’s expression must somehow still look fairly normal because Steve continues, deadly serious, “Munson. Are you sure?”

This is the time to back out—

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “Look, man, it’s no big deal. I can clean this up and—”

A bell starts ringing from the front, being struck over and over again in the most obnoxious way possible.

Something in Steve’s eyes flickers, a shift from panic into planning mode, and Eddie has the sudden bizarre feeling that this is what the basketball team saw whenever a crisis timeout was called.

“You sure you’re okay if I leave you back here?” Steve asks, and the gravity with which he says it threatens to send Eddie into hysterics—Christ, you’d think they were in the goddamn trenches.

“Think I’ll survive,” Eddie says. “I’m basically cleaning up, and putting everything into the freezer?”

Steve nods. “And, um, a stock check too, if that’s okay? There’s a chart pinned up, you just gotta count the flavours and put, like, tally marks next to—”

“Oh my God, not tally marks,” Eddie drawls. “The horror.”

Steve huffs. “I was just—”

The bell rings even more insistently.

“Uh, think you’re needed on the front line,” Eddie says.

He nearly chokes on his own spit when Steve turns to just march right on out there.

“Harrington, wait! Your—your legs,” he says weakly.

Steve has the audacity to look puzzled. “What about them?”

They’re very long.

Eddie gestures silently to the ice-cream on the floor, then attempts a vague hovering motion in the direction of Steve’s legs.

Steve’s eyes go wide in realisation. His cheeks turn slightly red. “Oh! Yeah, um, thanks. Um. I’ll just…”

He disappears into the world’s tiniest restroom, comes back free of cookies and cream before heading out to the front.

Well, Eddie thinks to the mop he finds, this is definitely a situation.

It’s not the worst way he’s spent a few hours, apart from having to listen to a Sailor’s Hornpipe on loop through the speakers (he briefly wonders how Robin and Steve stay sane). He cleans up, gets the rest of the delivery into the freezer, even jots down some tally marks, wonder of wonders.

Steve will occasionally slide back the shutters and pop his head in, passing over a soda.

“Employee perks,” he says, then has to hurriedly retreat to keep serving.

Eddie keeps waiting for the stiltedness to set in, but it seems Steve’s far too busy for there to be any awkwardness.

At midday the shutter slides back again and Steve says, “Hey, can you do me one last thing, and I’ll never ask you for anything ever again, I swear.”

“Harrington, you’ve technically never asked me for anything. Gimme the mission.”

Turns out the mission is just to use some employee only coupons at Burger King so Steve can take his lunch.

Eddie returns to Scoops Ahoy with two burgers to find that Steve’s strategically placed a pile of chairs and wet floor signs at the threshold to deter people from entering.

There’s also a hand-drawn sign on top of one of the chairs: Out for Lunch. Underneath, there’s a horrendously bad drawing of a ship on choppy waves.

Eddie tries very hard to not find it endearing.

He gives Steve a burger, hops onto the table in the back and starts eating his own.

A quarter of the way through, he realises that he could leave now—he’s done everything Steve’s asked, and Steve’s already said he can manage the remaining shift on his own now that the delivery’s been put away.

Huh. Well, he’s already gone to all the effort of sitting here…

Steve’s quiet for most of his lunch. Eddie doesn’t mind; he enjoys his free food, comes up with a half-baked campaign idea before discarding it, counts every tile in the room…

Looks over.

Steve’s sat with one leg hunched up to his chest, a book resting on his knee—the cover’s folded over the back as he reads, the spine broken. Eddie doesn’t know why on earth it’s attractive, but it is; he feels like some mooning middle schooler, entranced by the way their stupid crush eats spaghetti or some bullshit like that.

But then again, there’s always been an easy grace to Steve Harrington.

A beeping noise; Steve checks his wristwatch with a sigh.

“Ugh.”

He leaves the book on the table, at just the right angle for Eddie to read the title: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy.

“Is it good?”

“Hmm? Oh. Yeah, I’m only a couple chapters in, so…” Steve shrugs. “Honestly, it’s the most I’ve read since starting high school.”

And Eddie gets that: the senior years he’s suffered through have left him each time with a brain like a wrung out sponge, not even having the energy for Tolkien.

God. At this rate he’s never gonna read for fun ever again.

His face must do something because Steve opens and closes his mouth a few times before saying, a little hesitant, “Hey, I’m sorry you never, uh… made it through, y’know? You—you were so close, man.” Eddie doesn’t bother wasting time on being pissed that Steve knows some of the details: ‘test results’ and ‘confidentiality’ don’t exactly go together in Hawkins High.

“Yeah, uh. Thanks. Here’s hoping third time’s the charm.”

Steve claps his shoulder. “You’ll do it, it was just tough this year. Like, I scraped through, trust me.”

Eddie snorts—he would literally kill to have a handful of Steve’s grades.

“Think my definition of ‘scraped through’ is different to yours.”

He helps Steve disassemble the mountain of chairs, and now it really is obvious that he could just leave; he only has to take a few steps, and then he’s out of there.

But he pauses.

The store is still empty.

Eddie shuffles back from the doorway. “Ice-cream for the road?”

Steve laughs. “Sure. Least I can do.”

He doesn’t ask Eddie what he wants, just serves a vanilla cup with butterscotch syrup.

Eddie suddenly feels himself fighting a smile. “Think you’ve got an agenda, man.”

“Nope. Just giving you the superior choice, Munson.”

Then Steve picks up an empty cup and pours more butterscotch into it, nothing else. He knocks it back like a shot. “Gross,” Eddie says.

Steve flashes him a syrup-streaked grin.

It’s so… juvenile.

If it wasn’t for the fact that they’re in a mall, Eddie would almost think that he’d gone back a few years, made an unexpected temporary friend that goofed off with him in the back of the class.

He finishes his ice-cream as more people flock to the counter; in what seems like no time at all, Steve’s ushering Eddie out, pulling down the security grille.

It feels a bit like a soap bubble has burst. Like the bell’s unexpectedly rung at the end of last period, in a class he was actually enjoying, against all odds.

Steve does say, quite sincerely, “Thanks, Munson. You didn’t have to… you really saved my ass.”

Eddie’s about to clumsily work his way through some reply about how it was nothing, but then they really do have to go, because some stern-faced security guard’s staring like he might vaporise them.

It’s just one day, Eddie thinks. A… what’s-it-called. An anomaly.

But he goes back to the mall the next afternoon. He doesn’t bother to make up an excuse even in his own head.

Scoops Ahoy is somehow even more packed this time—Steve’s serving up samples while Robin’s back at the register, and when she sees Eddie coming, she points at the vanilla, mouths, “The classic?”

He chuckles, nods. “How was your movie, Buckley?”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” she says serenely. “I was very sick.” She coughs delicately.

“Praying for your miraculous recovery.”

He gets vanilla with butterscotch syrup (just because Robin’s the closest to that particular dispenser, that’s all).

It’s so busy that once Robin’s finished at the register, she starts filling orders alongside Steve. When Eddie picks up his cup, they barely look at him, surrounded by other cups and plastic bowls laid out for ice-cream.

Figures. Eddie knows it’s not personal. Just. Soap bubble’s burst, and all that.

He’s almost out the store when he hears a whistle.

“Hey, Munson! Go long!”

“Fuck off, no,” Eddie says automatically, a response drilled into him from many a compulsory Phys Ed class.

But he turns, just in time to see Steve throw something at him. He catches it—it’s plastic, round—somehow manages to keep a hold of his ice-cream, too.

Steve gives a brief thumbs up, before he’s back to scooping. He still finds time to do that stupid twirl move again.

Once outside, Eddie opens up his hand. Snorts.

It’s a shitty white badge, chipped in several places. His name’s scrawled on it in red marker, a cartoony anchor in the upper right corner.

On the bus home, Eddie mulls over the thought of flicking through a couple chapters of The Hobbit, something like that. No pressure, no notes—no imagining the year ahead, a teacher looming over his shoulder. Just for fun.

There’s plenty of time.

He puts his souvenir in his pocket, takes another spoonful of ice-cream.

And he has to admit that butterscotch is pretty damn good.

#my second scoops fic! such a fun setting #pre steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

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thetriumphantpanda · 7 months

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The Checklist | Joel Miller (complete)

Summary | Your new boyfriend Joel finds your hidden stash of porn, full of pages with their corners folded over, marking the things you like the most. Expecting him to feel bad about finding things you're into, things you haven't asked for from him, you're surprised when he offers to help you tick them off.

Pairings | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Warnings | This is basically just a kink fest. Explicit smut, oral sex, established relationship, orgasm denial, breath play, rough sex, exhibitionism, overstimulation, temperature play, free use, bondage, anal play, porn without much plot. Please see individual chapters for additional warnings. No Outbreak AU. No use of Y/N.

Authors Note | First of all, all credit for this idea has to go to @vickywallace who dropped this incredible idea into my inbox. Another massive shoutout to @undercoverpena for making this incredible moodboard and being my sounding board for these ideas. These are likely to be written out of order, as the inspiration strikes, but I'm excited to bring this to y'all!

To be notified when I post, please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs and turn on notifications.

Divider by @saradika

Main Masterlist

Chapters

Orgasm Denial - Beggin' For It

Bondage - Pretty As A Picture

Exhibitionism - Eyes Wide Open

Breath Play - Take My Breath Away

Free Use - I Could Use Somebody

Overstimulation - Don't Say I Didn't Warn You

Temperature Play - Hot & Cold

Anal Play - What’s In The Bag?

Extras

Fic Moodboard by @hellishjoel

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sanguineterrain · 8 months

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Feel like I’m so basic but Jason Todd with a crush and him having zero social skills and just being super clumsy despite being highly competent when he’s in the field. Crush is like real sweet and kind maybe a service worker ✨

anon u are so true and real for this bc jason is definitely an unsocialized cat when he has a crush 💓

jason todd x gn!reader. shyish/anxious jason with a big fat crush. baker reader. annoying customer. the duality of jason todd. 1.6k words.

also i fully believe that silently leaving huge tips as a way to flirt is like. a wayne trait. 100% that family does that bc of bruce.

prompt lists are here! i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary

****

Business has been slow.

It's not like you expect your cafe to be packed to the rafters all day long, but you've had a grand total of four customers today. One of them only came in to ask where Starbucks was.

Frankly, you're not sure the cafe can afford to stay afloat for much longer. Gotham isn't known to preserve small businesses, and the conglomerates (cough, Wayne Enterprises) are taking over the world anyway.

So today is a reading day. You might even close early.

You're at a table in the back, so absorbed in Poirot's sleuthing that you don't hear the door open. It isn't until you turn the page and look up that you see your resident lurker waiting quietly at the display case. You flinch so hard that you spill iced tea on your jeans.

"Shit," you murmur, grabbing a wad of napkins and patting yourself dry.

Jason (as is written on his coffee cup) looks up from the pastries, teal eyes wide. You smile briefly at him. For such a big guy, his footsteps are astonishingly soft.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, voice rough like he doesn't speak much.

"Yeah, fine. You just startled me—I didn't hear you come in. Were you waiting long? Sorry about that."

"Oh. No, I wasn't. Sorry." He shifts weight between his feet. "You seemed pretty engrossed in your book. I didn't, uh, want to disturb you."

"Oh, hey, don't worry about that! It's literally my job to be here," you say, though you can't help but melt over how freaking sweet that is.

Jason visits you a minimum of twice a week. He's been coming for a couple of weeks. You know a whole three things about him: he's a university student, he pretty much only dresses in red or black, and he's unfairly cute.

At first, you were reasonably wary of him because it's Gotham, and he's so damn quiet. It's a little scary. You thought maybe he was an undercover spy casing the joint. Now you know he's just awkward.

"Slow day?" he asks.

"Slow year, more like. How are you? How was your exam?"

He blinks. "Exam?"

"Didn't you have an American lit exam last week?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Wow. Yes, I did. It was okay. Got an A."

"That's great! I knew you'd ace it."

His cheeks turn pink. Okay, you actually know four things about him: he blushes a lot.

You go to start the coffee machine. "Do you think you'll—"

"I-I have to go."

You watch, stunned, as he hurries out the door. That's when you notice the fifty dollar bill in your tip jar.

You don't know if you should bring up yesterday. Jason's back; that probably means everything's fine, right? You're not sure if you said something wrong, though. You've gone over the interaction a hundred times since and you can't figure out why he's so skittish around you.

"Hi. Hibiscus tea, please," he says, stoic as always.

You prepare his order, yesterday's interaction still fresh in your head. You should say something, shouldn't you? Or...

"Sorry about yesterday," Jason blurts, so fast you almost miss it. "Running out, I mean. I was, uh—I forgot something."

Well. Looks like he's going to bring it up for you.

"Oh, you don't have to apologize! If I said something wrong..."

Jason shakes his head fervently. "No, God no. You're perfect."

Your eyebrows shoot up. He turns red this time.

"I mean—not perf—well, you're amazing, don't get me wrong! Except, like, what is perfect, y'know? My brother has gotten into the habit of calling everything perfection like some kind of sitcom character. Alfred will make pie, and Dick'll go, "Alfie, that was perfection." And I feel like it's such an exaggeration—"

Jason's mouth snaps closed. He rubs his forehead.

"Um, I actually have chronic foot-in-mouth disease. It gets really, stupidly bad. Sorry."

You're trying hard not to giggle. You want to smother him in frosting and take a bite.

"You're really sweet, you know that?" you say.

"I'm really not," he says with a sigh.

"Not true. Can you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

You go into the kitchen and return with your latest experiment: matcha cream puffs.

"Do you mind trying these for me? You're not allergic to anything, are you?"

Jason's shoulders hunch. "Are you sure you want my opinion?"

"Of course I'm sure," you say happily. "I trust you."

"You trust me," he repeats quietly.

"Yup!"

Jason takes a puff and bites. He starts to nod.

"It's really good. You're really—all your creations are—yeah. It's good."

You squint. "No notes? Really?"

"They're perfection, as my brother would say."

Fuck, you like him so much.

"Have another one," you say, pushing the tray towards him.

"I shouldn't—"

"Wait! I'll pack you some!" you interrupt, flitting back to the kitchen to get a Tupperware.

Jason helplessly accepts the container of puffs you shove into his hands.

"Let me pay-" he tries to say, but you shake your head.

"Nope! I won't accept payment for these. Not from my favorite customer."

"Your favorite?"

"My favorite," you confirm, grinning.

"Oh." His ears turn pink as he walks to the door, cream puffs in hand. "Uh, right. Thanks. See you tomorrow."

"Jason? Don't you want your tea?"

"Shit. Yeah." He returns to the counter and takes his drink. This he insists on paying for, so you let him, because you do have rent to pay, after all.

"So nice to see you!" you add, because the stiffness in his gait is kind of throwing you off.

He just nods, slipping out the door as quietly as he came.

Today, Jason's in a red workout tank. You have to make the conscious effort to not ogle his arms.

"Hey, Jason!" you say cheerily.

"Hi," he says softly.

"The usual?" you ask, and he looks up in surprise.

"You know my order?"

You gently roll your eyes. "Of course I know your order, silly. Favorite customer, remember?"

"Oh." He looks away, brow furrowed. Then he turns to you and his expression smooths over. "Yes, please. Thanks."

"Sure. Give me one second? I just have to finish decorating some sugar cookies."

"Take your time," Jason says, then goes to skulk by the window.

The door is suddenly swung harder than necessary, thumping the glass.

"Hey!"

You look up from the cookies. A man in a suit is waving his phone impatiently.

"I ordered a dozen muffins. Where are they, huh?" he demands.

"Oh, right! Well, you called ten minutes ago, so they won't be ready till six, sir. Can I get you something while you wait?"

He scoffs and stomps to the counter. You almost back down, but you don't; that's exactly what these bullies want.

"This is exactly why no one eats at dinky cafes like yours. You can't even do this!" he fumes, shoving a finger in your face.

"Sir, like I said, the muffins are baking..."

"I know the city's health inspector personally," the man spits viciously. "One call, and I can—"

"Say one more word."

You blink as Jason is suddenly between you and the customer, stood at his full height. He's all muscle and broad shoulders, looming over the guy. You peek around him.

"What the fuck, man?" the angry customer squawks. "Move!"

"No, you move," Jason says, tone lethal. "Sit quietly at a table and wait for your muffins to bake. Then you can thank the nice baker for waiting on your sorry ass and you're not gonna come back. They have far more patience for entitled fucks than I do."

"Fuck you," the man spits.

Jason calmly closes the distance between them and whispers in his ear, hand like a vice around the jerk's shoulder. You watch as he turns pale, eyes growing wider.

"Sound good?" Jason asks pleasantly, all teeth. The man gapes at him.

Wow. Yeah. This is really doing something for you.

The oven dings. You go to retrieve the muffins, packing them as quickly as possible. You give him the box and the man nods.

"Thanks," he mumbles, then scurries out of the store.

Jason turns to you, and it's like looking at a completely different person.

"You okay?" he asks, posture stiff like he's still prepared for a fight.

You nod, a little dazed.

"Yeah. Wow. Jason, I... you didn't have to do that. I mean, thank you for doing it, but..."

"Hey, that guy was a jackass. And if you have trouble with him or anyone else, call me, okay?"

This side of him stuns you. If you didn't know better, you'd think he had this exchange regularly.

"Call you?" you ask, smiling. "How will I call you if I don't have your number?"

He freezes, eyes wide. "Oh. Uh. Um..."

You lean over, elbows on your counter. He watches you. You cup your hand around your mouth, pretending to divulge a secret.

"This is where you, the cute guy who frequents my struggling cafe, gives me your number."

"You think I'm cute?" he asks.

"Devastatingly so," you say, grinning.

He's quiet for a long moment. Your smile starts to dim.

"Did I read this wrong?" you ask. "If I came off too strong..."

"No!" he says a little too loud. Jason winces. "Sorry. No. I... you're... fuck, I'm not good at this. I don't even really drink tea or coffee, to be honest. I just come in to see you."

"You do?"

Jason sighs. "Yeah. Shit. That's creepy, isn't it?"

You laugh and he visibly softens.

"No, Jason," you say warmly. "It's sweet."

"So can I still ask you on a proper date? Not coffee."

You grin. "That would be perfection."

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #batman fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #jason todd fanfiction #coffee shop au #bakery au #dc fanfiction #inbox #blurb

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mothhball · 3 months

Text

Beneath me

Pairing || professor!Jonathan Crane x student!Reader

Warnings || 18+ SMUT, NON-CON, DUB-CON, forced breeding, fingering, p in v sex, housewife kink(?), humiliation, dumbification, misogyny, unprotected sex, age gap (professor and student, everyone’s an adult), brief dacryphilia, condescending use of petnames, jon is a prick in this but gets better towards the end (if you squint hard enough)

Summary || The professor suspects you cheated on your exam, but you’re determined to prove him wrong.

Words || 3.7k

Notes || First ever fic and it’s smut because I love suffering. English isn’t my first language, so I hope everything makes sense. Please don’t read if you’re uncomfortable with anything mentioned in the warnings

Afternoon lectures. The bane of many students’ existence, yours included. You’d been on campus since 9 am, trying to catch up on homework and study material for the most dreaded class of the day. Abnormal Psychology, presented by none other than Professor Jonathan Crane. Crane with his smart suits and piercing eyes. Crane with his condescending remarks and off-handed insults. Crane with his ridiculously handsome face and –

“Are you even listening to me?” The man in question is now standing in front of you, staring you down with narrowed eyes as his lips pull down into a frown. Yes, right. It’s 5 pm now, almost the end of the lecture and time to get your exam results back. You shake yourself out of your stupor, glancing down at the paper he left on your desk. But instead of a grade, you only see a bold red question mark which takes up almost a fourth of the entire first page. Crane clears his throat impatiently, and his mood sours more and more the longer he has to stand next to your seat.

“I said, you will meet me in my office after class. Is that understood? And I’d suggest you get your head in order until then,” he hisses, icy blue eyes filled with disdain. Your heart sinks, and you can feel the blood leaving your face as you manage to nod rather stiffly.

“Of course… Professor Crane, “ you murmur in reply, and upon hearing that, the professor quickly resumes his round around the lecture hall, handing back grades to your fellow students. As the first people pack up their things and begin to file out of the room, you slowly pack up as well. Your hands are cold from anxiety as you zip up your bag and get up from your seat. Meeting Professor Crane in his office was the last thing you wanted to do right now. The plan was to go home, grab takeout on the way and curl up in bed with a movie starring this forty-something year old actor you have the hots for. But God forbit anyone in Gotham wants to have a nice time.

Soon enough, you find yourself in Crane’s office, taking the seat in front of his desk and folding your hands in your lap to keep from fidgeting. The professor runs a hand through his hair, looking you over with a skeptical glare before he straightens his posture and gets to the point.

“I’m disappointed, shocked and quite frankly, I feel personally insulted.”

Your brows furrow, but before you can speak, he pulls out two stacks of paper, smacking them down on the desk. You quickly recognize one stack as a copy of your exam, but as you look over at the other, it feels like someone froze time for a moment. It’s someone else’s exam, but they wrote down the same answers. Not word for word, but in a way and structure that’s quite obviously plagiarized. Squinting at the name, you remember the guy sitting next to you, and anger bubbles up inside of your chest.

“He cheated off of me,” you mutter, trying to stay calm.

“Brennan said the same thing. Funny how that works, huh? And in case it went over your head, I don’t find it funny at all. But I will have to fail one of you. The question is, which one will it be?”

He takes his glasses off, gingerly setting the spectacles aside before he pinches the bridge of his nose. A little dramatic, but very much expected from him.

“Look, I’m not saying you were the one cheating off of Brennan,” He starts, sounding exhausted and absent at the same time. Like this is all beneath him. Like your future in his class has as much importance as the piece of lint he’s picking off of his sweater vest. “But there’s no real proof that he cheated off of you either. It’s a case of ‘he said, she said’. And it’s not like Brennan had much reason to cheat. He has had consistently good grades, whereas you-“

“I’ll prove it, “ you interrupt him without thinking, clenching your hands so tightly that your nails dig into the skin of your palms. Crane looks visibly taken aback, perplexed that you have the gall to intercept before he could expose your rather mediocre academic history in his class. You know you’re average. A face in the crowd; one of many names on an attendance sheet he barely pays attention to.

“I’ll prove it to you,” you repeat, swallowing dryly. Your mouth suddenly feels like you ate sand, and you really want to clear your throat, but you’ve done so thrice within the past five minutes, and you can tell it’s starting to piss him off. “Give me a chance, please. Please, Professor Crane. I know the material, I swear.”

Crane’s eyes briefly dart down to your lips, and his eyebrows furrow in thought before he nods slowly, thoughtfully. He’s making a show of it. Portraying himself as the generous teacher while you’re desperate for even the smallest chance of passing this goddamn class.

“Alright,” He sighs, and the weight seems to lift off of your shoulders. A smile begins to spread on your face, and –

“Get out a pen. And paper. You’re going to write an essay.”

Eyebrows raised in confusion, you tilt your head a little. You almost feel stupid to ask.

“What, right now?”

“Of course, right now. At home, you’d get the chance to cheat again, wouldn’t you?”

Again. He’s still convinced you were the one to cheat on your exam. His tone is bitingly condescending and he doesn’t bother to elaborate further as he gets up from his chair to head over to the almost overflowing bookshelf next to his desk. You’re still sitting there, hands in your lap until he lets out an exasperated sigh, signaling for you to get a move on. Not wanting to incur even more of his wrath, you dig through your bag to get out a pen and some loose sheets of paper.

In the meantime, Crane has chosen a book from his shelf, and he’s wordlessly flipping through the pages until he lands on a fitting topic for an essay. He snaps the book shut and returns to his desk, fixing his tie as he nods to himself.

“Alright. I want 5 pages on fear conditioning. If you truly studied for the exam, this should be a piece of cake. If you didn’t, this will be an embarrassing little lecture you’re in dire need of learning.”

Your eyes widen, and you stammer for a moment, unable to find the words while staying respectful.

“That many? But it’s already –“

“Five-thirty pm? I hope you didn’t have any plans for tonight. And you should be grateful that I don’t have plans either. I’m staying late for your sake. Because you convinced me to give you a chance. I don’t have to do this, you know? I could just fail you and go home. So, I think a little gratitude would be more than appropriate.” There’s an odd expression in his eyes. Halfway between hunger and conflict. He’s usually so composed. You must really be testing his patience.

“Thank you, Prof –“ “Thank me by getting to it already.”

You nod meekly, grabbing the pen and beginning to jot down the date and your name in the corner of the first page. While you’re focused on the introduction part of your essay, you miss the way that Crane folds his hands on the desk, gripping so hard his knuckles turn white. His icy gaze is focused on every twitch of your muscles, every swoop of your handwriting, every time you softly bite your lips in thought. If only you’d look up. You’d see the way his jaw is set and his pupils expand. You’d realize the situation you’re in. A bunny with its neck in the jaws of the wolf.

You’re about two thirds done with the first page when he wheels his chair around the desk, closer to yours. Once his arm brushes against you, you pause to lift your gaze, looking at him with equal parts confusion and curiosity.

“Uhm… professor? What are you doing?”

“Checking on your progress,” Is his curt reply, but he leans in even closer, staring down at your half-baked essay. “Eyes on the paper.”

You comply, getting back to writing after a short second of sorting your thoughts. It’s more difficult to write with him basically breathing down your neck, and your heart skips a beat when he scoots even closer. Despite this, you keep on writing. Until his hand lands on your thigh.

You tense, looking up at him. Your lips part, and you’re about to say something before he speaks first.

“Eyes. On. The. Paper. We’re going to simulate a stressful, distracting environment. Not unlike a lecture hall during an exam. If you can keep your cool, I’ll know you didn’t cheat.”

You bite your lip, hesitating.

“Or I could fail you right now, and you’ll prove me and my suspicions right.”

Back to writing it is. Your hand is a little shakier during the next few sentences while the warmth of his fingers seeps through the fabric of your skirt into your skin. But you get back into the motions, almost able to ignore him until his hand flexes and begins to wander. A shiver runs down your spine as his touch slips underneath your skirt, feeling the soft flesh on the inside of your thigh.

“That’s it. Keep writing. Try to show me how smart you are.”

Crane’s voice is a snide whisper right next to your ear. His breath sends a shiver down your spine, but you keep your focus on the essay. Well, at least some of it. Once his fingers brush over the crotch of your panties, your breath hitches as heat builds in your core. But you can’t even get a word in.

“Run your mouth and your final grade drops to an F. You’re on my time now, understood? Not a fucking word to anyone or else a failed class will be the least of your worries.”

You’ve never heard him curse before. The man sitting beside you, the man with his hand under your skirt isn’t the professor you’ve known throughout the semester. No, at this point, the mask is slipping and the difference is startling. Crane pushes your skirt up with one hand and your legs apart with the other, letting out a low, appreciative hum at the sight of your wet panties.

“Fuck. You’re soaking through the lace, aren’t you? I didn’t even touch you yet… Are you always this easy? Almost adorable… Keep writing for me.”

His words make your ears burn with embarrassment, and you bite down on the inside of your cheek as you get back to your essay. It’s getting harder to think. Especially once his fingers slip underneath your panties, running between your glistening folds. Crane quickly finds your clit, rubbing circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves for a deliciously brief moment before he moves his hand further down to your entrance.

“Now you’re being grateful, hm? Is this what you were thinking about while everyone else was making an effort during my lectures? While everyone else was busy doing their work… you were getting worked up in your seat thinking about me. Thinking about me playing with your little cunt.”

The corners of his lips pull up into a self-satisfied grin as he plunges a finger inside of you, and you can’t help but let out a soft sigh of pleasure. You’re so wet that he’s not meeting any resistance from your sweet pussy, so he quickly adds a second one. The slick noises are obscene, and you duck your head in an attempt to hide your flushed face and focus on the essay, but it’s futile. You’re writing complete and utter nonsense at this point, and he knows it. Crane scoots his chair even closer, pressing up against your side as he works his fingers inside of you, caressing that spongy spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. As he looks over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of your writing, he scoffs out a laugh.

“Goodness, sweetie. That’s what your pretty little head managed to come up with so far? All this talk about wanting to prove yourself, and you deliver this? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more pathetic attempt at an essay in all my years of teaching.”

Tears well up in your eyes at the harshness of his words, and the sight of it makes Crane’s cock harden in his slacks. He licks his lips, curling his fingers inside of you with a little more urgency as he leans in to whisper into the crook of your neck.

“Let out those noises. I guarantee they’re worth more than every brainless contribution you’ve ever made in my class.”

It’s an order, not a request, and you find yourself unable to keep quiet anymore as his thumb comes up to rub your clit again. Your wetness is starting to drip down onto the seat below you while you let out a breathy moan, and you begin to doubt yourself. Maybe you really are as empty-headed as he says. To your dismay, this thought only causes the tension in your core to build up even faster.

“There we go. Close to cumming from being fingered by your professor. You’re so needy, so eager for the slightest bit of attention. A toy that needs to be played with 24/7. Aren’t you ashamed?”

You let out another moan of pleasure and humiliation, clenching around his digits as he stretches you open. When did you forget how to speak?

“Trying to play in the big leagues while you’re just a dumb little fuckpet for my enjoyment,” he hisses, before he sinks his teeth into your earlobe, causing you to squeak. It hurts. But that’s the point. You’re so close to the edge, toes curling inside of your shoes. And then suddenly, he withdraws his hand. You catch a glimpse of his glistening fingers, and you turn your head just in time to watch him lick your juices off of them. He lets out a groan, satisfied by your taste.

“Get up. Hands on the desk.”

You scramble to get up, standing on wobbly legs as you bend over Crane’s desk. The professor wastes no time, grabbing onto your sopping wet panties and ripping them off of you. The fabric shreds beneath his hands, leaving your skin stinging where it cut slightly into the soft flesh of your thighs. Your skirt is flipped up, exposing your rear to him, and he moans out another sound of appreciation. His hands come up to grab onto the meat of your ass, spreading them apart to allow him a perfect view of your dripping cunt.

“Lord knows you’re not made for higher education.”

Crane leans in, licking a stripe up between your folds, and you bite down on a knuckle to keep in the pathetic moan that hangs on your lips. Your body is desperately begging you to just let him take what he wants from you, but your mind clings onto the last shred of dignity you have. When the sound of his belt being undone tears you from your thoughts, you turn your head, looking at him from over your shoulder.

“Wait –“ You start, suddenly struck by the reality of it all.

Crane chuckles at the expression of wide-eyed apprehension on your face.

“You’re not braindead already, are you? What did you think was going to be the logical conclusion of this? Of course, I’m going to bury my dick in you. Fuck, if you were this tight around my fingers, I can’t wait to feel you squeezing my cock….”

“No, I –“

“Shh, no need to worry. Judging by your essay, you don’t have the mental capacity anyway.”

Crane roughly grabs a fistful of your hair, pushing your head down until your cheek meets the wooden surface of his desk while he hurriedly unzips his slacks. He’s painfully hard at this point, straining against the fabric of his boxers, and he lets out a relieved hiss once he’s finally freed himself. He leans over you, pressing his weight into your back and aligning himself with your tight hole before he pushes his hips forward. You’re immobilized under him, squished against the desk as he fills you with his length. Crane’s lips find your pulse, licking and nibbling at your neck as he bottoms out inside of you, shuddering from the sensation of your plush walls around his cock.

“Good girl… you’re so wet. All for me, huh? Yes… just for me.” He moans through his teeth, leaning back a little to watch as your pussy stretches around him when he begins to slowly thrust into you. You let out a soft whine in response, not quite adjusted to him yet. But if you know anything about him at this point, it’s that he doesn’t care.

“I know, sweetheart, it’s a lot. Just relax – shh, shh, that’s it. You feel so good, squeezing me like a proper toy. All obedient and sweet… you really were built for this.“

He lifts his hand, landing a smack on your ass before he pulls out all the way and pushes back in, letting out a condescending laugh at the way you shiver. You can feel how deep he reaches, hitting every spot while he stretches you out with calculated thrusts. His pace begins to speed up, and his other hand wraps around your throat to keep you close as he pounds into you. Coherent thought becomes difficult for you, and even if you did want to say something, it’s suddenly made impossible when Crane pushes two fingers into your mouth, almost making you gag.

“Needy little thing. Bent over and babbling like a whore. But you -fuuuck - you take me so well, don’t you? All tight and sopping wet for my cock to stretch you out...”

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, yanking you back by your hair to make you lift your torso up from the desk. The carefully crafted persona of a calm, reasonable Professor Dr. Jonathan Crane has completely slipped from his face now and shattered by his feet like Fine China. His hands move quickly, urgently as his rhythm begins to stutter. The fingers that are now soaked with your saliva make their way back between your legs to circle your clit while his other hand leaves your hair to tear open your blouse, sending the buttons flying everywhere.

His teeth find your neck again as he grabs at your chest, kneading your soft breasts as he marks you up. Hickeys, bruises, bite marks. He leaves them behind to claim. To own. Your climax hits you like a truck, knocking the air from your lungs as he fucks you through your orgasm, not faltering for a second. Stars fill your vision for a moment, and you’re only vaguely aware of the kisses that he’s pressing to your cheek. Your walls are clenching him tightly, causing him to curse under his breath.

Crane swallows heavily, rasping into your ear between shallow breaths.

“Tell you what… No more thinking about essays. In fact, I don’t want you to think ever again. No more exams… no more studies. As if you’d ever be someone of importance in this field to begin with. No, no… I won’t let you waste your time on a silly little Bachelor’s anymore... Fuckpets like you only need to be bred. I’m gonna be generous and fuck a child into you.”

Your eyes snap wide open, and even with your cock-drunken brain, you realize just how serious he is about this. In an attempt to get away, you begin to struggle in his grasp, but he replies by kicking your legs further apart, forcing you down against the desk again. The wooden edge digs against your thighs, keeping your hips in place for him as he plows you into the piece of furniture. Your cheek is pressed up against your unfinished essay, reminding you of your failure on all accounts as you drool onto the paper.

Your hands are clawing at the desk, trying to find purchase when his own hands find yours, linking your fingers together in a frighteningly intimate gesture. Crane continues to moan your name, pressing his face into the crook of your neck before he pushes his cock as deep as he can into your poor cunt, filling you with his hot cum. He lazily rocks his hips back and forth a few more times, trying to push in his load as far as he can before he finally stills, panting against your skin. He stays on your back for another few moments, breathing in your scent and idly squeezing your hands with his.

Once his breathing has evened out once more, he straightens up, kissing the top of your head before he pulls out. Crane watches as his seed drips out of you, a glint of amusement and possessiveness in his eyes as he pushes it back into you with two fingers. You feel completely boneless, crumpled on the desk as you try to make sense of what happened and what will happen. The silence doesn’t last long before Crane speaks up again.

“In the morning, you’ll make me breakfast, and in the evening, you’ll cream on my cock. Like a proper little housewife. And I’ll get to see your tits swell and your belly expand as our kid grows inside of you,” He muses, running his hands over your shoulders and down your back, a gesture that’s more meant to ground himself than it is meant to soothe you.

His voice is soft, yet eerily determined. A man that’s planning the future out loud. Unbeknownst to you, he’s reaching into his suit pocket behind you, pulling out a small syringe filled with a clear liquid.

“And if you get bored again and your mind starts to wander, I’ll knock you up again and again until you know your place. Face down, ass up. Beneath me.”

#jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane #batman begins #nolanverse #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane x y/n #.moth writes

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liliannadelaphinehartifelt · 2 months

Text

Alastor - [ DEVOTION Pt. 4 ]

xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxx

A/N: This is all angst and fluff because I'm working on two other smut fics. Please accept this impromptu filler chapter for now (I'm sorry ❤️). I hope you enjoy it anyway.

WARNINGS: [ SFW ] + [ SLIGHTLY MATURE THEMES ] + [ FLUFF ] + [ ANGST ]

xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxx

You waited patiently for Alastor, standing at the window, admiring the fading moon as the sun's rays gradually inked the sky. It’d been a longer night than you imagined, but you felt energized rather than overtly exhausted.

You supposed that's what having a child felt like: tiring but never lacking excitement. A smile crept onto your face at the thought, heart racing at the image of a small hand wrapping around your finger and the possible jingle of childish laughter following the gesture. It was all you could think about.

Would they resemble you or Alastor more?

A boy or maybe a girl?

Twins?… Oh, twins would be so extraordinary but troublesome!

Oh, who am I to complain… they'd be just as lovely as Alastor.

You jumped from one thought to the next, unable to keep track of your puzzling emotions but deciding your only concern should be the present. With a steadying breath, you gazed around the room, searching for something to do or a task to occupy yourself with since sleep failed you. The room was spotless besides your belongings, which you'd already reorganized after stealing one of Alastors dress shirts to replace your blood-stained nightgown. There was a bookshelf full of various stories tucked into a corner near an old rocking chair, and the idea of reading to relax didn't seem terrible.

“A good story can be grand entertainment…”

Your father coined the phrase and always followed it with an unbelievable bedtime reading. Those nights filled with his storytelling were your fondest childhood memories, and you considered passing the sentiment onto your child. You imagined Alastor more prone to telling bedtime stories; he had the charisma, the soothing voice for it, and you had no doubt they'd become attached to him doing so.

Your smile grew wider, getting ahead of itself as you waltzed over to the tall mahogany bookshelf. “Hm…what shall we read, little one?” you placed a hand on your stomach, gently rubbing circles against it as your other grazed the worn book spines. Each title caught your eye, all ranging in subject but consistent with what Alastor told you about his mother's efforts to advance his literacy.

“Some might say she willed proper speech out of me, but I wouldn't be where I am now without such vigorous practice…”

He was far from wrong; your father had educated you similarly, claiming that despite young women of the time being expected to rely on their beauty, you'd advance farther with brains.

“Let's see..” you mumbled aloud, reading a few titles to narrow your decision, “…perhaps Penny Dreadful? No, The Grim Brothers Tales’?..” A soft giggle left your lips as you considered how ridiculous you sounded speaking aloud, but it couldn't be helped. You were longing to talk, to shout with joy, but resisted the urge in fear of causing a minor disturbance.

Finally, a book held your attention, not as worn as the others but fairly withered. “Alice in Wonderland shall do.” You pricked it from the shelf, sitting in the rocking chair while opening its front cover. The words on each page were familiar, immersive as intended, and for a few quiet moments, you thought of nothing but its premise as you whispered nonsensical sentences in their written order.

Time passed quicker than you thought; by the third chapter, you heard the bedroom door creak open, and in stepped a refreshed Alastor. You beamed a coy smile his way as he shut the door behind him, returning your smile with tired eyes while walking over to you, “Mornin’ darlin’..”

“Good morning, mon cher. You look much better.” you muse as he leans down to kiss your head, “Thank you, sweetheart. Once I get some rest, I might feel better as well.” He doesn't stand up fully, content with being at eye level with you to converse, and you unconsciously blush from the intensity of his gaze. Strands of his hair were curled into its natural waves, dripping with tiny water droplets, slithering down his mocha skin with every breath he took. It was a miracle his glasses didn't fog up, resting neatly on his face and doing nothing but accentuating his piercing brown eyes.

You could get lost in his stare; that ocean of amber took your breath away effortlessly, and you wondered if the trait would pass on to your child.

Indeed, it would… surely he'd love it.

A lump formed in your throat as anxious excitement built in your chest. You needed to tell him calmly, but the longer you waited, the more you wanted to hide away.

Did he want this?

“I’d love you and our child more than anything…”

He'd said it himself, but it was hard for you to deny that Alastor was very vague with his genuine emotions. Even as his wife, you found him hard to read

There was only one way for you to find out, and stalling wouldn't solve anything. Alastor studied your expression as you thought, perceptive to the minor changes in your mood, “My dear, are you alright?” he asked firmly. You perk up, nodding slowly while clutching the book to your chest, “I-Im, I'm fine... It's just that I have to tell you something rather delicate..”

Alastor raised a brow, watching as you bit your lip and stared at your lap, “The news you alluded to earlier this evening?” His eyes narrow, glinting with prowess as he ponders the possibilities of your announcement.

With a heavy sigh, you nod again, shutting the book before placing it in your lap, gripping it tight with one hand as the other instinctively rests on your stomach. You feel his gaze shift from your face, fixated on your abdomen, as you stumble out an explanation.

“I. Well, I'm… “ you cut yourself off when words fail, reaching for his hand gently, placing it over your own as a nervous smile adorns your face.

Oh…does she mean to say?…

Alastor froze as the warmth of your skin settled against his palm, rising and falling in a gentle pattern as you willed yourself to breathe normally while gauging his reaction. His shadows quivered in the darkness of the room, able to hear two faint heartbeats underneath the drum of your own, and the definitive sound brought a grin to his face.

It seems she's given us exactly what we hoped for. Twice the yield as well.

How delightful.

Alastor knelt before you, placing both hands on your stomach, eyes soft with affection as he finally voiced his thoughts.

“My darling wife is going to be a mother..” pride laced his tone as he averted his gaze to yours, grin ever present as you nodded excitedly with a bright smile, “And you're going to be father..” you whisper.

Your words drifted quietly in the air, sinking into Alastor’s consciousness and stirring his specters into a giddy frenzy.

My wife is having my children…

Mine and only mine.

A laugh rippled in his chest as the possessive thought invaded his mind, growing stronger as he heard your delighted giggles join his. “Come here, darlin’…” Alastor lifted you with one gentle tug on your wrists, catching you in his arms as your feet hovered off the ground. “Alastor!” you yelped excitedly, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt and laughing more as he pecked your lips tenderly. You hummed into the passionate kiss, arms locking around his neck as you kicked a foot up gingerly. He tasted like mint, calm, and refreshing. A welcomed contrast to the waning heat you felt as your nerves winded down.

He was pleased to know, which filled your heart with relief.

——- ——- ———

“Oh, my stars! Al! Y/n! I'm overjoyed for you both!” Rosie shot up from her seat, dress flowing as she glided around the coffee table to squeeze you in a tight hug as you set out the platter of sweets you'd finished baking moments ago. “Thank you, Rosie. I still can't believe it myself,” you blushed as she squealed, drawing back a bit to cup your face with both hands; her eyes sparkled with admiration as she looked between you and Alastor -who sat comfortably in an armchair. He hadn't stopped grinning since your return home from the countryside, rambling on and on to his mother about the news until the last minute, and he insisted on telling Rosie as soon as you stepped foot in New Orleans again. She was his long-time friend, after all, yours as well, by extension, and so you didn't mind revealing the news to her. Just as his mother felt like your own, Rosie filled the space of an older sister for you. She was energetic, fashionable, and constantly aware of everyone's lives.

She was a true gossip girl, but you enjoyed her company more than others.

“Al, you devil! You could've waited another year to knock my dearest friend up! Now, who will I take out on the town?..” She huffed dramatically but couldn't hold her frown as you giggled softly while he waved a hand dismissively. “I'm sure you'll survive, my dear.” he quips. Rosie rolls her eyes, returning his nonchalant gesture with an equally smug smirk, “I suppose you're right. Although, my nights out won't be as thrilling anymore with you gone being a new father and such, Al.”

He sat straighter. You happened to catch the slightest frown on his face at Rosie’s comment, but it vanished when he felt your eyes on him. “I'll accompany you on occasion when time allows it.” His response is politely chaste, and one might deem it disappointing.

Was he bothered by the notion of having less time with Rosie?

You knew they ventured to socialite parties together regularly, something they'd done long before you married him, but you never questioned it since Rosie assured you it was their fun hobby. Still, you felt concerned that Alastor could regret the idea of children if it meant a less spontaneous party going with his oldest friend.

You opened your mouth to say something, stepping towards where he sat, but Rosie grabbed your hands and whisked you away to sit on the plush sofa with her. “We must discuss everything Y/n. Having a child is no small feat, and I know Al won't spare any expense.” She grinned, squeezing your hands gently, and you smiled back at her before sparing your husband a curious glance. “He spoils me too much already, so I think he'll naturally do the same for the baby,” a soft laugh floated from you, and he tipped his head reassuringly while pulling out his pocket watch to check the time. “Whatever their little heart desires, I shall give,” he replies calmly, standing to his feet and gazing between you and Rosie. “It's about time I head on over to the station. I don't suppose you’ll be leaving anytime soon, Rosie?”

You checked the grandfather clock that stood against the adjacent wall, noticing it was nearly time for his broadcast to begin, “Seems we lost track of time.” you smiled apologetically at Alastor. He shook his head while chuckling, “It's not your fault, darling. I got caught up listening to this one ramble,” he gestured to Rosie before walking over to the parlor room coat stand. He pricked his preferred overcoat, slipping it on quickly as she glared at his back. “Is that any way to speak of your child’s future honorary aunt and godmother!” she faked a skeptical look to which you feigned concern, “Oh, my dear Rosie, he didn't mean it, I swear!”

Alastor turned on his heel, biting back a more comprehensive smile as he admired the two of you carrying on, “I will not apologize for telling the truth, ma chère, but Rosie does have the privilege of godmother so that for I will ask for her forgiveness.” he stood behind the sofa, leaning down a bit to kiss you once then twice before pulling away with a content hum.

Rosie watched the sweet exchange, able to separate the manic version of Alastor she killed from the doting husband he was in your presence, proud to see him so controlled and happy. He pulled away from you, adoring the glimmer in your eyes as you reached a hand up to adjust his glasses, “I love you,” you whisper, and he blanks for a moment, hearing the endearing phrase.

Love…is that what this is?…

Would it be so wrong to say it back?…

A flash of vulnerability crosses Alastor’s face, and you're tempted to take your words back, but he beats you to speak. “Je t'aime aussi..” he mutters back, stepping away to bid Rosie a proper goodbye, “Take good care of her while I'm gone.” he kisses her cheek, and she swats his arm, “Oh, you know I will. Now run along before you're late!” He heads to her, scolding her out the door in seconds, leaving you in her company.

“I thought he'd never leave,” Rosie chirps, glad to have some privacy to speak with you and eager to get down to the details you had to tell. “Tell me, how do you feel, honey? I know this all might be terrifying you…” she spoke softly, pricking a freshly baked cookie from the platter you set out, and you nodded timidly in agreement while fidgeting with your hands.

“I'm scared, yes, but not of being a mother. You know I've always wanted to be one. It was my biggest dream when I came of age, and I'm glad it's coming true with Al..” You rested a hand on your stomach, feeling it flip at the mention of him, and luckily, no urge to throw up followed.

Thank goodness for Angelique and her tonics!

She'd given you a case of vials to take home, all containing a special brew made by her hand, and she'd given you a strict regimen for consuming them.

“Drink two of these twice daily, morning and evening, but only take it after you've eaten. Have Alastor phone me when you need more..”

Whatever was given had a wonderous effect on your mood, reduced your fatigue, and calmed your nerves. You were grateful for her assistance, but not everything you felt could be cured with medicine.

You hoped Rosie would understand, could help calm what the tonics couldn't, so as she peered at you curiously and asked, “What's the matter, dearest?” you inevitably blurted out your worst and only fear.

“I'm afraid of how Alastor will be as a father..”

She blinked, taken aback by your confession, but it didn't show on her face. “May I ask why?”

You hesitated, fidgeting with your hands again as you thought of what to say, but Rosie rested a hand on yours to still them in a gentle grip. “Y/n, it's alright, be honest. He may have been my closest companion initially, but you are my truest friend in this moment. I'm here to listen, not to criticize. He won't hear a word of it, I swear.”

You glanced between your conjoined hands and her kind smile, and after debating whether or not to spill your heart out, you decided it wouldn't hurt to express your doubts.

You could trust Rosie. Right?…

“Well, I know he wants children. He recently told me so, but it's how he'll receive them. Alastor is a complex man, we both know that, but I fear that complexity will make it hard for him to…to..” you tried to phrase the last of your concerns gently, unsure if what you said made any sense to her, but Rosie merely smiled before finishing the thought for you.

“You're afraid he won't show them love?..”

You nod, heart clenching at the thought, “Yes. I know how his childhood went; I was there through it all, so I know his father wasn't the best man. I know what he put his mother through and Alastor hates the idea of becoming like him..”

You forced yourself to take a deep breath, beginning to tear up as memories of Alastor coming to you in the dead of night, bruised and battered but stoic as ever as he asked to sleep next to you in your bed. He'd never tell you what happened, where his father was, or if he'd been majorly injured. You'd have to coax information out of him, promise him that you'd never betray his safety, or tell your father what went on in his family. Then and only then would he relax, let you mend his scars before huddling under the thick covers with you, and though you were both exhausted, you'd whisper stories aloud to each other until the sun peeked through the trees.

It felt odd to wish for times like that to return; they all resorted from darker places, but it brought you two closer. You were able to understand Alastor to an extent most speculated of. With all the insight into his life, you hoped the irrational fears you felt would wither away, but after the incident at his mother's, they just worsened.

It felt as if he were hiding something from you.

At first, the notion piqued your curiosity, but now it ate away at your conscience.

What was he withholding from you, and did you need or want to know more?

Logic voted ‘yes,’ but your trusting nature leaned towards ‘no.’

“He won't ever be like him. I'm sure, but he's only recently expressed he cares for me. Truly loves me, so I suppose I'm afraid of that same affection not being openly expressed to our little one as well.”

Rosie nodded, scooting closer and giving you a tight side hug to calm your frazzled state. “My dear, you have every right to fear such a thing. However, if I may vouch for Alastor, I do believe his softer side will show itself for your child.” You peered at her, hope in your eyes, “Really? You think so?..”

She grins, “I am certain of it! He cherishes you like no other! Unlike my husband, yours is a dime and a man who'd kill for you if necessary.”

You blush, surprised by her claim, “I don't think he'd kill for me, Rosie, but I understand the sentiment.” She scoffs, hand rubbing your shoulders, and retorts, “Yes, he would, and he'd show the same devotion to your bundle of joy.”

Her statement soothed your worries, but the seriousness in her tone made your heart skip a beat.

It felt as though she did know he'd kill for you…kill for your child.

A shiver racked your body at the thought.

I hope it never comes to that…

xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxx

What do you guys think of the story so far? I'm just curious to hear your thoughts and theories.❤️

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

He may be a monster, but at least he's dedicated to it; morally grey, but honest to his silly little murderous behaviors ❤️ credits to the creator

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ivy-loves-chocolate · 11 months

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𝙸𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚊 𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚋?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ N o t e ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ This is a little draft that I've been working on for a while. I'm so sorry for the low activity. I didn't feel good because of uni. I'm in my last year of university, and it's draining me mentally lol. Anyway, I'll try to post often from now on. I hope you like this! Reblogs and comments are very appreciated!

If you want to support/commission me visit my ko-fi page. Thank you!

dom

definitely has a choking and a size kink.

Is into BDSM. Has a red room, which he shares with you.

He loves when you are needy for his touch or for his cock. He likes to tease you before giving you what you want.

Office sex is on a daily basis since he is busy all the time and barely home. He’ll hold your ass up while he slams inside you repeatedly, filling you over and over until you feel like exploding.

He also has a breeding kink. For him, you’re a superior human being just like him, and he intends to continue his bloodline with a worthy partner like you.

Speaking of which, he is very open about his kinks and expects the same from you.

He loves when you're under him, all needy and whiny, with tears falling down your cheeks as you scream his name and beg for more.

He can be rough, but only if you want him to be. He is aware of his strength and doesn’t want to hurt you.

He likes to see your pretty face and the many grimaces you make as he pleasures you.

He loves to see your eyes rolling and your mouth wide open.

Something tells me he is a sub.

has a size kink and a phone sex one (because he is gone on missions for months, and when he misses you, he just calls you for that naughty time).

likes it when you talk dirty to him.

He is also into roleplay.

This guy tried to be dom for once and ended up using the safe word for himself because he was afraid of hurting you.

He is not into very kinky stuff, but he won't say no if you want to try something bold. Just give him a heads-up.

loves to please his mistress. He doesn't mind if you mark or scratch him.

loves to be called "captain."

Likes to go down on you. There’s something that turns him on whenever you moan his name or when your fingers are tangled between his hairs.

He loves when you come all over his face and smear his beard and chin with your juice.

switch

It depends on his mood,e honest. tbh

Likes the doctor/patient roleplay and has no shame in using the labs from his work.

You two definately fucked after getting rid of the las plagas. It's ironic that you moan on the very same chair you used to scream in pain.

He loves to have you on top, regardless of whether he’s a dom or a sub.

You keep tracing the scar on his chest with your fingers whenever you see it because you think it looks very sexy on him. It also turns you on.

He loves to give oral sex. He'll bury his face between your legs every time he gets the chance. He’ll eat you out on every surface possible and in every pose. Desk, operator table, bed, kitchen counter, everywhere

He loves when you order him around.

"Does my pretty mistress require my services?"

You can't work together because you'll end up fucking.

It's the pretty boyfriend that spits in your mouth.

Very possesive. If he sees someone flirting with you, he'll make sure to remind you to whom you belong.

dom

This man has no shame when it comes to marking you. He’ll leave hickeys in visible spots (neck, shoulder) and in hidden ones (waist, thigh, and ass, which is his favorite spot to mark).

Has a roleplay kink too. His favorite scenarios are either government agent/rescued civilian or government agent/secret spy (for obvious reasons).

You’re definitely fucking in his office from the White House. You’ve been bent over that desk more than over your own bed.

Likes to go deep, so deep that it hits your cervix.

While you’re bent over, he’ll pull you by your hair and bring you closer to his face. He’ll whisper dirty things to you, which will only turn you on more.

Leon loves when you blow on him, and moreover, he loves the sight of his cock slowly disappearing into your mouth. You’ll pull some sinful moans and whimpers out of him.

Likes to be called "Mister Kennedy."

Has a hair-pulling kink.

If not bent over his desk, he likes to have you on top of him. He’ll praise you for the beautiful work you’re doing. With hands on your thighs, he’ll guide your body as you ride him.

Switch

He has a punny mouth, and you'll have to punish him a lot. He doesn't mind, though, and sometimes he does it on purpose.

He'll have you sitting on his face for breakfast, dinner, and lunch.

He is extremely possessive, so when you come home, he'll make sure to remind you that you belong to him and him only.

Has moments when he talks very dirty and moments when you are his "princess."

"Oh, look at you, such a slut for my cock. You want Daddy inside you that bad, huh?"/ "Oh princess, you don't have to beg; I'm right here for your needs."

He will definitely slap your ass and will be very satisfied to see a red mark in the shape of his hand appear on your flesh.

It fucks you deep, so deep that your body goes numb and your toes curl.

He loves when you use him for your own pleasure.

Loves to make a mess, especially over your chest.

Is into roleplay

Can be very sweet, and aftercare is a must. He'll wash up the mess he made and massage your sore body.

dom

Has a knife and a size kink

Will pull out his knife and run the blade across your body. You’ll feel the cold blade running from your neck, between your breasts, or on your inner thighs. He’ll chuckle deviously while you squirm under his touch.

Likes to fuck you with his fingers. He loves to see how his fingers slowly disappear into your tight cunt. They’re thick, and you can barely take two of them.

He is a strong guy, and he enjoys pinning you down and pushing that cock inside you. Wall sex is among his favorites.

has a major praise kink. The slightest praise will get him over the edge, and he'll start thrusting like an animal inside you. He'll also become very vocal and demand that you keep praising him.

He loves when you struggle to take him.

He isn't that much into bondaje, but he won't say no if you ask him nicely.

He'll bite you and won't care if he marks you. He knows that you enjoy it, though.

"Just look how this little cunt of yours clench around me whenever I bite you. How interesting..."

dom

Will use his metal-bending powers in bed to make handcuffs or bend the metal frame to hold your hands.

Has a bondage kink, obviously. Likes to tie you up and show how helpless you are in his touch.

He also loves to tease you until you beg him with tears in your eyes to let you orgasm.

He loves when you get so desperate for his attention that you basically beg him to fuck you.

He loves when you climb on his lap while he works and then start to rub your cunt over his bulge.

"You'll have to work harder for that kitten."

Oh, this bitch

He loves when you give him a hug while he is at the desk. He'll occasionally stop his work to grab your hair and buckle his hips to fuck your pretty mouth.

He can be sweet, although that happens very rarely.

He loves when you make yourself pretty for him; he goes feral when he sees you in lingerie.

sub

He loves when you’re in control of him and tell him what to do.

When you give attention to his neck, he turns into a needy, whimpering mess.

Doesn’t mind if you mark him.

He plays it tough at first, but all that tough guy act disappears when you take him in your mouth.

Likes to be spanked and cuffed.

He loves when you mark him because he wants people to see that he belongs to you.

He can't get enough of your touch; he is addicted.

He can get clingy at times, but you don't mind. He is like a little puppy.

Definitely walked him with a leash around the house at some point.

Loves to give you oral. You'll find him crawling between your legs while you do your tasks, and he won't leave until you orgasm.

He loves when you pull his hair, and you'll hear or feel him moaning the harder you pull.

Tag-list: @lunarastrobabe@shadow-wolf510@skylar-todd@alewesker@rokurodokuro@brownsugarwrites (if you want to be added DM me 🤗)

#resident evil #albert wesker #chris redfield #luis serra #carlos oliveira #leon kennedy #ethan winters #karl heisenberg #jack krauser #wesker x reader #chris redfield x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #carlos oliveira x reader #luis serra x reader #ethan winters x reader #krauser x reader #karl heisenberg x reader

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roseykat · 6 months

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TITLE: SKZ members as submissives

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSWF SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

SUMMARY: An OT8 blurb of how each of the members are as subs.

TAGS: sub!skz members, implied dom!reader not necessarily gender specific, mentions of sex, orgasms, humiliation, edging, collars, leashes, spitting, nipple play, implied brat behaviour, praise, choking, gagging.

MASTERLIST

A/N: my next work that will be uploaded after this is Venom Eater! Also trying out a new layout for when I do OT8 blurbs…

This man is 50/50. He can be so good for you by letting you use him in the ways that you want and then be a devious, disobedient little upstart if you look away for one second. If he’s in that type of state, expect him to whine to you about what it is that he wants; ‘make me cum~’, ‘but I need you to use me,’ ‘need to get off on you, please.’

Denying him is always so fun because he gets so teary eyed and agitated. At that point, he’ll cave. He is strong, but when his needs are being compromised, Chan will see your instructions through to the end. Whether it’s to use his mouth for your own pleasure, his cock, fingers, whatever part of his body you see fit to seek an orgasm out of, he will make it happen as reparation.

A sub that can be a full on stubborn brat who won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Trying to get him to listen is like pulling teeth and it can take a lot to strip Minho back into a conforming, incoherent mess. Overstimulation usually does the trick, bc he gets what he wants at first then realises he’s bitten off too much that he can chew and finds himself running into multiple orgasms bc you keep getting him hard enough to make him cum.

You like showing him how much cum he’s dribbled out of his stiff yet sore cock just by lifting up your hand, forcing him to see your palm glisten in white. Seeing it is like a slap of humiliation to him which paints a nice deep red blush across his cheeks.

A very sensitive sub that can only handle being touched so much. Edging works so well that it’s almost always part of the bedroom routine. You try to utilise it in order to see his strong, taut body writhing, and to hear him moan out ‘please, wanna cum so bad. Can’t take it anymore.’ Just hearing him say that invites you to cuff his hands to the bedpost so that he doesn’t try touching himself when you refuse him from orgasming.

The one thing that he absolutely cannot take is watching you get yourself off. Therefore, in the instance where you do attach him to the headboard, you peel yourself right off of his body and get into a position where he can see you make yourself cum. Whether it’s by your fingers, a vibrator, a dildo, whatever it takes to make him see what he’s missing out on, is a form of torture to him.

Obedient when he wants to be, but for the most part, he will let you use him whenever you want because Hyunjin is too in love with you not to. He likes having a collar fixed around his throat with a leash attached while you get him to fuck you in positions where he may appear ‘on top’ but you still have every degree of control over him.

He’s a relatively messy sub as well but adorns it with pride. Sometimes he cries from overstimulation, drools when you gag him with your fingers, chin and nose wet from you using his face, and will leak a decent amount of precum when you edge him. All in all, he’s versatile to use especially when he wants you to.

Is a sub that requires a lot more attention than most. He is very needy and reactive to the things he allows you to do to him. However, Jisung does explore when it comes to new kinks but to him, nothing beats just getting absolutely fucked. That being said, this man is a pillow prince. You have to put in all the effort - which you don’t mind, but there comes a time where you make Jisung work for it.

If that’s the case, he gets all whiny, mopey, and annoyed because he doesn’t want to ride you - he wants you to fuck him. He gets so stubborn that sometimes he’ll prep himself, fingering his hole even though it’s not nearly as satisfying as when you’re involved. In the end, he will end up riding you, but either very lazily or angrily.

Is everyone’s darling, innocent, and placid submissive that they just want to ruin. Whatever it is that you want to try, Felix is for it. He wants to please you and make you happy. He’s a sub who needs a lot of praise and boy does he deserve it because he’ll let you fuck him, let you clamp his nipples, spit in his mouth, edge him, a combination of all if not more of these activities - you name it.

Sometimes you have to remind Felix that he doesn’t have to do the things you suggest to him, that there are alternatives also or that he just doesn’t have to do it at all. But he always, always assures you that he does. He likes to experiment with you in bed but also wants to test his own limits while achieving pleasure.

Seungmin can be a very hard sub to work with at times. He has the ability to use his words as a weapon, yet sadly, it’s a double edged sword because it does come back and bite him in the ass when you clock him for his behaviour. So if he tries to trip you up with his words when you’re in full dom mode, saying things such as, ‘are you sure about that?’ ‘What makes you think I can’t take it?’ etc, you know how to handle him - with a ball gag.

It limits his supply of verbal daggers and plea bargains that you never bother considering bc he stepped on your last nerve. Another way to get him to shut up is if you use his face. But, his reset button - something that forces him to switch up is by telling him that he’s a ‘good boy’. He gets all flustered and embarrassed but he loves hearing that type of praise from you.

Jeongin starts off as a seemingly disobedient sub, almost leaning towards being a brat, then will slot right into his place of being submissive when you ramp things up in bed. Therefore, it’s easy to snap him out of that phase by threatening that he’s not going to get what he wants - no head, you won’t fuck him or you won’t let him fuck you. When those stakes are on the line, he straightens his act out and behaves.

As a sub, Jeongin is into many things but has a particular interest for shibari. He likes the intricacy of the many different ways in which you can bind his body, the tight feeling of the rope around his muscles, and how it shapes his body well. That’s only if he’s behaved himself well.

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #han jisung smut #bang chan smut #hyunjin smut #changbin smut #felix smut #i.n smut

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fawnprincessblog · 5 months

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𝒮𝒽𝒽...

type: smut (2010 tom kaulitz × fem reader)

includes: public sex, fingering, d0m!tom 💗 uh, blurb please! : tom gets hard, results in public sex. however they have to keep it down...

The library was quiet as usual. There were no sounds, just the casual flipping of a page and clicking of a pen. It wasn't that huge, but it was a library after all, and there were countless shelves packed with an array of books on every possible genre, making it ever so pleasing to the eye.

Tom and you were casually looking around. He was observing the latest magazines; completely engulfed into the pictures of naked women sponsoring luxury undergarments, barely paying attention to the text. Whereas for you, you simply browsed any books that seemed appealing to you, running your delicate fingers across the spine of the books, slowly capturing the names on each paperback.

You were busy contemplating a book that sort of interested you when Tom had appeared behind you, tapping your shoulder lightly. "Hm?" You responded, not turning your attention away from the book. "Come with me," he whispered, "I need to show you something."

"But I'm looking at this," you reply, finally turning to face him.

"It's important," he persuaded, tugging onto your arm a little.

Hesitantly, you put the book down, and let him lead you to where he wanted. You didn't know what your boyfriend had pulled you so far for, but you let him for now. "Why are you taking me so far?" You say softly, confused as he had pulled you into a corner in between two shelves that showcased books on self-help, where nobody seemed to be paying a visit to. "I need you to help me now," he whispered, somewhat desperate, his index finger pointing down to his growing hard-on.

You roll your eyes and sigh, "I told you not to look at those magazines, Tom!" You scold, keeping your tone as low as possible. "This is a library and I am not taking any risks. Someone could catch us."

"Please," he begged, his eyebrows furrowed. "You know I can't walk around like this.."

Tom had a severe case of a high libido and a permanent hard-on. He was always horny and always desperate for some intimacy. You loved helping him out since you knew how good he could fuck you when he got out of control, but when it came to the times when it's least expected, it was so inconvenient.

"Tom we can't-" you hesitate, though he cuts you off abruptly, "Yes we can, god damn it, we can make it quick." He unexpectedly starts trailing his fingers down to your waist and puts his sly hand under your skirt, tugging at the rim of your underwear. "Tom, stop it-" You smack his hand away, which only made his comeback stronger.

"I know you're horny too," he whispers seductively, bringing his hand back under your skirt as he had you cornered against the wall in between the two shelves, his fingers slipping into the side of your underwear, running them across your slit. You whimper as his touch, becoming wet in an instant as his fingers begin rubbing your wetness leisurely in order to stimulate you, making sure you'd be just as horny as him to give in.

Tom knew that all it took was a rub on the core, a bit of neck sucking and some breast play to get you stimulated and needy for him, which was an easy task. You were weak when his fingers toyed with you.

"You're wet," he whispered into your ear, lips touching the skin of your neck as his fingers still continued its action on your aching pussy. He plastered his lips onto your neck, beginning to suck a light hickey onto you, making you gasp softly from the pleasure. "Nghh-Tom..." Your words trailed off as he had bit you on the same spot he sucked on, making you squirm.

He groaned into the kisses he placed onto your neck, his fingers increasing its speed onto your pussy, pleasuring you to its finest. "En-Enough Tom, enough..." You managed to breath out, trying your best to hold in whatever sounds that threatened to slip. Hesitant to pay regard towards your request, he slipped his fingers into you, pumping in and out slowly. "Oh..mm fuck.." you moaned softly, biting onto your lower lip harshly, your eyes closing involuntarily. "There you go..." Tom whispered, "so horny for me, you naughty girl..." He was saying this all on purpose, turning you on in every way to get you as needy as possible. You felt yourself sweating, beginning to tremble under his touch. Barely a few good pumps in, he pulled his fingers out again, making you whine softly. "Better save all that goodness for me," he says, sucking onto his two fingers that had previously been in you, savouring the sweet taste on his tongue.

You weren't going to refrain now; you were horny as fuck, and you needed him to fuck you right now despite the unfortunate place you were in. This was a big risk you were taking.

Tom let out a soft grunt as he unzipped his pants, revealing his severely hardened length. He felt his cock twitch, aching at the thought of having it deep in you, begging for a full on pleasurable release. "We're making this quick, baby," he says, his voice husky. You pull your panties off, letting it pool at your ankles, leaving only your skirt on, promptly placing both your hands onto his shoulders as he positioned himself. Without a second of hesitation, Tom immediately plunged himself into you, thrusting harshly. He threw his head back, a low groan escaping his lips as his eyes closed.

Unable to help yourself, you moaned out the moment you felt his warm dick insert itself into your drenched pussy, your body immediately going tense. For a second, you had forgotten your surroundings. "Mmh..To-" you choked out, though Tom quickly threw his palm over your mouth.

"Shhh..." he hushed. "Control yourself. People will hear you." He continued to thrust at his desired pace, his hand still covering your mouth. Your moans were muffled into his palm, your hands gripped onto the sleeves of his shirt, trying hard to contain yourself in every way possible.

He had his fingers of his free hand digging into the skin of your waist as he increased his thrusting pace, wanting to make this quick like he promised. You were trying to be as quiet as possible though Tom's size didn't help.

"Ngh..fuck–" he groaned, his breaths coming out in ragged pants. Eventually Tom hit a certain spot, causing an immediate reaction from you. You gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt yourself clenching around his throbbing cock, your back grinding against the wall behind you. Feeling your tightness, Tom clenched his jaw, letting out a rough groan in his throat as he jerked harder into you, his palm pressing harder onto your mouth.

You were so close, feeling that familiar knot in your lower stomach. You couldn't say anything since he covered your mouth, and it's not like you could word out anyway; Tom was just too good. Your hands gripped onto his shoulders, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt yourself draw closer to the edge.

A few more rough thrusts and Tom released his load into you, letting out a low moan muffled into your shoulder. His hips jerked forward as his body experienced the orgasm, his cock twitching inside of you as you released right after, a sharp gasp escaping your lips.

Tom released his palm from your mouth, letting you catch your breath. He slowly rode out his orgasm, bringing his eyes up to your face. "Fuck," he breathed. "I'm not done with you."

You feel him reluctantly pull out, making your squirm a little. You weren't able to speak for a moment, the pleasure still lingering. "Let's go home," he said, looking around cautiously as he zipped his pants back up, wondering if anyone noticed. "We'll continue there."

hello everyone! first smut posted >< tell me what you think. is the writing alright with you all? lots of love 💋💋

#tokio hotel #love #boyfriend #tom kaulitz #smut #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel smut #tokio hotel x reader

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cozycottagetarot · 26 days

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PAC: How Can You Break The Cycle

Messages From Elle: We did it guys!😮‍💨

Notes:

This PAC Covers:

What is the cycle?

What keeps it going?

What will it take to break it?

What could that look like for you? (Patreon Extended)

‼️ THIS READING IS MEANT FOR SELF-REFLECTION AND ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY -- While this reading does broach topics relating to mental health & mindset, contain a bit of advice and reflective questions, IT'S IN NO WAY SHAPE OR FORM MEANT TO REPLACE PROFESSIONAL ADVICE OF ANY KIND. Please use your discretion, think carefully before you act and only take what resonates be it a little, some or none at all. ‼️

Reading Masterlist | Patreon | Paid Readings -- Open 🥂

PILE 1 (Brick Wall)

Current Energy

Cards: 10 of cups, The Empress, The Chariot

I feel as though you’re currently in this energy where things couldn’t be better…. But then why are you here? I know that's my job to figure out but still. I feel like you’ve been making strides to create the life that you want. You’re charging forward, becoming more disciplined and things are starting to feel warm.

The cycle that needs to be broken:

Cards: The Wheel of Fortune, Nine of Wands, Page of Pentacles, Four of Wands

The cycle that needs to be broken is one of constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. You’re tired of fighting or always fending off the downward turn of the wheel of fortune and while you may try to keep your faith that things can get better and stay better, you're always expecting things to get bad again. You could be worried the new beginning won't start, the relationships won't come, or the financial abundance won't find you. I think this fear or vigilance has such a tight hold on you, that you end up not taking action. You may need to readjust your game plan. You don't allow yourself to relax. You don't allow yourself to celebrate your wins… you're always in this state of hyper vigilance.

What keeps the cycle going?

Cards: The Sun, The High Priestess, Two of Pentacles, Seven of Pentacles

I don’t think you really allow yourself to be happy. That may be the current energy I was picking up on as well. When things are going great you don’t really let them go great. I also think you’re neglecting the things that are really important to you inside… maybe so much that you don’t even know what those things are anymore. Not knowing how to navigate this internal world of yours keeps fueling this cycle of 'oh, what bad thing will happen next?' You may also have a hard time making decisions or generally deciding what you want, floating back and forth between options. This back-and-forth stops you from actually putting in the work it takes to succeed and enjoy the FULL results, therefore keeping the cycle going. Another thing I picked up on is maybe the wheel keeps turning back and forth as well because from going back and forth all the time, you’re never really getting to move past the lessons you may need to learn in order for you to reach your desired outcome or abundance.

What will it take to break this cycle:

Cards: Seven of Cups, Five of Cups, Two of Cups, Ace of Pentacles

If you want to break this cycle, you have to make a decision on what exactly it is you want. It might mean leaving behind something, but you have to remember that so much more also awaits you in the process. Stop dwelling on what has gone 'wrong' before, especially if it’s past events that influence your lack of decision. It's okay to have that vigilance and use the past to better navigate the future-- HOWEVER, it's also important to get honest with yourself about whether it's a valid concern or a fear talking. It's time to change your mindset to focus on what can go right. I think also there will be someone available to help you once you make a decision about what you want to pursue. The alternate I'm getting is that you have to allow yourself to lean on others if you want to break the cycle. This could be through personal and professional relationships. But you have to actually decide yes, this is what you want. It doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to change as you grow, but first, you have to plant the seed. Once your seedling sprouts you can cultivate your plant however you’d like. There’s a lot out there available to you but making the decision to move towards it is where it begins.

Want to know what those steps might look like for you? Consider checking out my Patreon for the extended version as well as early access to my next pac!

Regardless, if you'd like a free mini-reading to clarify any part of this PAC, feel free to send me an ask with your initials and pile!

PILE 2 (Statue)

Current Energy:

Cards: King of Wands, The Star, The Tower rev, Queen of Wands

I see you showing up as being in a hopeful energy and that good fortune of some kind is coming your way. A good balance of masculine and feminine energy. There’s a sense of resisting something internally, however. A transition of some kind that you're wanting to make. It seems like it could be good for you and a lot of different areas in your life would improve, but what you know or are accustomed to might clash with what you want. However, you have what it takes to succeed. If you were drawn to pile 1, after reading this pile consider checking it out as well.

The cycle that needs to end:

Cards: Eight of Swords, The Devil, Ten of Swords, Knight of Swords

I feel like you’ve got a gloomy inner world. Very melancholy. You’re turning a blind eye to the things that are holding you back and draining your energy. It feels like you almost escape it but it gets you every time. You might not take the best care of yourself mentally or physically. With all the swords it could be a mental thing too and it’s important that you get (professional) help and take those steps (of taking better care of yourself). The cycle that needs to break is you getting stuck in this energy.

What keeps the cycle going:

Cards: Four of Swords, Eight of Cups rev, Ace of Wands rev, Ace of Cups

You don’t rest. You won’t walk away from the things draining your energy. You won’t open up your heart and you won’t do anything with your creative sparks... more or less.

It’s so important that you take a moment to take a good pause and regroup. You could find yourself turning to poor coping mechanisms and that's not good. You can't try to leave a bad situation either if you don’t know what made it bad. You also have to sometimes stick things out. If you tried breaking a habit and it didn't work, it doesn’t mean you’re doomed to always have that habit. That’s a bad way of looking at things, and while it’s understandable to feel that way, you still need to work on it. You’re allowed to connect with your emotions and create as well... There's a need to review your plans/goals as well. You can be successful, but may lack the resources to easily be so... that’s also understandable but you can still work with what you do have. You may also lack confidence in you abilities to achieve your goals. You can manifest so many things you want but you have to believe in yourself and open your emotions to be able to connect with the feeling of what you want. It’s easy to say I want XYZ, but if you don’t figure out what that’s going to feel like, then how will you know when you’ve got it? It’s easy to get caught up in material things but the last thing you want is to wake up one day to a life that looks exactly like you wanted it to, only to realize it doesn’t FEEL the way you wanted it to.

What will it take to break the cycle:

Cards: Judgement, The Hierophant, Knight of Wands, Page of Cups

It’s time for you to get it together. Get serious about moving on to the next phase. I feel like it’s all going to work out based on the cards but you really do have to stop holding yourself back. Find a support group. Consider finding creative/artistic ways to express yourself. Step into a leadership role because there’s a good chance you can lend the wisdom you’ve acquired to others… This could be through a social media platform, sharing your writing, attending a local community event, etc. Work on making sure how you’re living aligns with your beliefs and vice versa. Allow yourself to be vulnerable. Give yourself your all. I also feel like this is one of those situations where you have to remind yourself that sometimes motivation follows action.

Want to know what those steps might look like for you? Consider checking out my Patreon for the extended version as well as early access to my next PAC!

Regardless, if you'd like a free mini-reading to clarify any part of this PAC, feel free to send me an ask with your initials and pile!

PILE 3 (Broken TV)

Current energy:

Cards: Wheel of fortune, Queen of swords, Queen of pentacles, Two of wands

Your current energy is that you've shifted to a 'really good' energy or you're about to shift to a 'really good' energy. The Magician isn't here but that's kind of the energy I'm picking up on here too. Either being very faithful right now that everything is going to work out for you or that's the energy/mindset that you need to tap into. There are options available to you... You need a plan of some kind. You feel unable to move... unequipped even. Thinking about (or needing to) your long-term future. With the two queens, I think you're leaning into one of the two embodiments of the queen, maybe even both. You might have a hard time seeing yourself as either.

The cycle that needs to be broken:

Cards: The Hanged Man, The Tower, The World, Judgement

The other piles were definitely what I would consider a cycle on a loop that needed breaking but yours feels less like a cycle and more like you're just... stuck. You're ready to or have 'level/ed up', but it's as though you're stuck in limbo. This could be because you've gone through a 'tower moment' recently (say within the last year give or take) that's left you stuck in limbo. Or it could be a fear of having a 'tower moment' that is leaving stuck in limbo. Regardless this cycle is one of you needing to bring something to completion.

What keeps the cycle going:

Cards: Knight of Wands, The Emperor, The Sun, Eight of Pentacles, The Fool

You might be rather impatient. When you do things you may expect to see results immediately...that sense of 'oh, I did this tasks once, why don't I feel better 👀'. It could also be that you might not plan out your goals thoroughly or you may not be very clear on what it is that you want to do/achieve. I feel like since you don't take that moment to strategize and figure out what actually needs to be done, this cycle keeps going. You may just charge forth into whatever you think will bring you happiness. However, this means you can't put in the work required which can bring you back to a place of fear and doubt. This can create anxiety and likely catastrophizing which brings us back to that fear of a 'tower moment'. It could also simply be a case of being too laid back? On the flip side, while it's always good to have faith that things will work out, it's important to remember that a lot of times, you still have to play a role in that.

What will it take to break the cycle: Cards: The Star, Justice, Three of Pentacles, Knight of Cups

Have hope, yes. Dream and believe that good things are meant for you and those good things will find you. BUT, balance that with meaningful/conscious action. You must consider the long term. What is the end goal going to look/feel like? What is the journey of getting there going to take? Some of you already have the knowledge you need while others may still need to acquire it. Regardless, learning and implementation will help break the cycle. You have what it takes, but you have to stay the course. It's also important that you use action rather than simply ideas to motivate you. Fall in love with the act of doing.

I also feel like you should make a love list. I initially thought of that while going my first glance at the cards.

Also, do me a favour and take a nap, please! ✋

Want to know what those steps might look like for you? Consider checking out my Patreon for the extended version as well as early access to my next PAC!

Regardless, if you'd like a free mini-reading to clarify any part of this PAC, feel free to send me an ask with your initials and pile!

PILE 4 (Hammer)

Note: If you're someone who reads what cards were pulled, I mistyped the Seven suit for Current Energy and The Cycle so now that I'm editing, I realised I have no idea which suit the card belonged to hence the (?). Okay, that's all!

Current energy:

Cards: Seven of Swords(?), Queen of Pentacles, Three of Wands

It's time for you to broaden your horizons, however, you currently have to tread carefully. You could currently be job searching or looking for scholarships etc. There's a lot of opportunities available to you or becoming available to you. But you need to be diligent and read the fine print and get the details to make sure you won't be compromised in the process. It's important though that you be able to maintain a balance between your home/personal and academic/career life. You're in an energy of needing to remember to put yourself first.

The cycle that needs to be broken:

Cards: Two of Swords, The Emperor, Page of Swords, Seven of Wands (?)

The cycle that needs to break is one of constantly being at odds with everyone. I feel like you’re constantly bending over backwards or breaking your neck to try and appease others-- and no matter what you do, it’s not enough. I think this might potentially resonate more with those who are academics. When faced with a decision between what will benefit you vs what will benefit someone else, you have a tendency to either not make a decision of choose the option that will benefit someone else instead. This could be because you either live under someone with authority over you (like a caretaker or family) or you're in a position where you feel like you have to take care of others (siblings/family, partner).

I feel as though for some of you it could also be a romantic relationship? I'm not familiar with 'channeling' through music, but find myself doing it a lot lately. The song 'Lifetime' by Livingston just resonated with part of this pile for some reason. When asking if it’s a romantic situation, I got the cards: Eight of Pentacles, The Devil, and Justice rev. I’m also getting 'the right person, but wrong time'.

I think if it's someone with whom you share romantic feelings for, it's a situation where the relationship likely feels imbalanced and like hard work, but you don't feel like you can step away. If that resonated then that could be it. It could also be any unfair relationship dynamic.

What keeps the cycle going:

Cards: The Hanged Man, Ace of Wands, Death, The Moon, Eight of Swords

I think you’re in a cage of your own making, but not because you can’t see. You can see, but what you’re seeing isn’t clear. Because of this, you tend to end up pressing pause on moving forward. There's a lot of creative energy around you... for some, it's that it's a creative field waiting to accept you. However, you're too afraid to actually go for it and give it your all so I think you keep 'pulling the wool' over your own eyes. I think if there are people around you in opposition to you moving forward, you might see it as a convenient excuse to not move forward and transform into the next stage of your life. It's almost like the cycle doesn't need to be a cycle. You know when you're listening to a song and you keep restarting it 'cause you keep getting interrupted? And sometimes it's just you being extra because it wasn't even your favourite part you're just kind of nitpicking? Yeah, same vibe I'm getting here.

If the relationship resonates: I think you may need to let go of (or loosen your hold on) because they could be holding you back to the point they're dragging you down. Things are shifting for you, especially internally. You could be trying to hold it back though, but in doing so you could burn up and out. You’re seeing what really is and maybe you don’t want to. That’s the part that keeps this cycle going. I see images of a phoenix rising too.

What will it take to break the cycle:

Cards: Queen of Wands, The Chariot rev, Judgement, Three of Pentacles, The World, The Lovers

It’s time to use the things you’ve learned. Let go and let the cycle close. Trust that you’ll find love again or that you’ll find inner harmony. Trust that it will all work out in your favour. Take steps, even if it's baby steps to doing whatever it is you want to do. I feel like I said this already in a different pile, but even if you can't make a complete switch yet, start engaging in the things you want to do or eventually pivot too in small steps. You can always research or engage with it as a hobby for the time being. Also finding balance between who you are and how you show up to the world. Remember you have a lot to offer and it's going to do everyone a whole lot more good in the long run, the more authentically you can show up.

Want to know what those steps might look like for you? Consider checking out my Patreon for the extended version as well as early access to my next PAC!

Regardless, if you'd like a free mini-reading to clarify any part of this PAC, feel free to send me an ask with your initials and pile!

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dungeonpuppykai · 3 months

Text

|| The Secretary ||

Summary: Your boss, District Attorney Andy Barber, has had enough of your negligence in his workspace.

Pairing: Boss!Andy Barber | Secretary!You.

Disclaimer: I (sadly) do not own Andy Barber. This is a mature story so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact.

Warning(s): Spanking (ruler), humiliation, degradation, dumbification, hair pulling, cock warming, p-in-v, boob slapping, nipple pulling, power imbalance, dacryphilia, Andrew is lowkey a sadist and slightly mean because he's the boss, sir kink, age gap, praise, the tiniest bit of fluff.

Note: Very much inspired from the very scene in the very movie, yes. Feedback is much appreciated 🩷

MASTERLIST

You were past denying and making excuses that this kind of treatment did not turn you on. It was this after all that encouraged Andy to take things one step further every time. "Read." The strictness in his deep voice made you gulp as you felt his heavy wooden ruler caress your cheeks that the District Attorney had already heated up generously with his hands.

A shaky whimper escaped you as your skirt and underwear was tugged off your buzzing bottom. Goosebumps slid over the now exposed skin of your thighs as you stood bending over the office table of your boss, Andy Barber. Your teeth reached for your bottom lip as you chewed on it, peeking behind you to see what the man was doing but a stern 'eyes on the paper' made you whip your head to look at the document in front of you.

"Dear Governor Rogers–" smack. Your back arched as your eyebrows furrowed, your throat strangling the pained moan forming in it to not anger the man any more than he already was.

"From the top" you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. He seriously didn't expect you to mess up something as simple as the title! Though when your gaze briefly traveled over the page that was full of corrections made with a bold red marker, you knew you were dead and it was over for your poor ass.

"Office of the– ah!" You could not help but cry out in frustration when the slap cruelly came down on your ass again for seemingly no reason. You wanted to look back at him and ask him what the fuck was wrong now but you knew better than to act up when you were already in trouble with your boss.

He took his work very seriously.

"What do we say when we are given an order?" You wanted to slap yourself.

"Y- Yes, sir" as the ruler met with both your cheeks at the same time you arched your back and whined under your breath. "S- Sorry, sir."

Andy only hummed under his breath, trailing the wooden object to your sit spots. "Go on, now."

"Yes, sir…" Focusing on the line and wondering what the hell could you have possibly messed up in the basic format for him to be overreacting like this, you bit your tongue in embarrassment when you realized that a mistake had been made indeed. "O- Office of the Middlesex County District Attorney…" As if the blow against the backs of your thighs was not powerful enough, the scary sound of the collision made you jump.

"Is that what it says on there?" Your flushed face burnt hot in humiliation and you bit your lip, ducking your head.

"... N- No, sir…" You whimpered out in shame as you looked at what you had hurriedly typed out this morning after rushing in late as usual;

OFFICE OF THE MIDLESXE COUNTRY DISTRICT ATTORNEY

The words nearly glared at you from where they had been printed on the paper.

"How much time did you have to compose this very basic correspondence, Miss Y/L/N?" God, oh God.

"T- Two days, sir-!" You could not help but draw out the last word in a loud whimper when the ruler struck your right cheek, followed by the left one and then the middle which captured both of them with much cruelty and ease at the same time.

"And when did it arrive on my table?" The way he caressed your ass after asking yet another damning question made you want to both whine and hide yourself away for the rest of your life.

"T- This evening, sir" Andy was unforgiving with his blows as four more were placed on your throbbing ass.

"And at what time this evening?" The mock playfulness in his very obviously pissed voice was nipping at the skin of your face.

"Some minutes–" smack, smack.

"Specifics, Miss Y/L/N…" Your foot moved on its own and you kicked the ground with a grunt, curving your back outwards as your arms gave out and the upper half of your body collapsed against the table. "Remember?"

"F- Fifteen minutes b- before…" Tears stung at the back of your eyes. "B- Before it had to be sent off, sir" yet another spank from the ruler -the deadly weapon that you had secretly tried to get rid of on many occasions- resounded against you, the force used reverberating through your ass cheeks.

Andy only hummed again. "Correct. And may I ask what was the state that I received it in?" The answer to his question laid in front of your face, huge red circles drawn over every word you had misspelled; all the mistakes you had made. All of this just because you kept procrastinating despite your boss personally reminding you of the importance of this letter that he needed ready and free of error at the send off time.

"F- Full of errors, sir– sir, please!" Your fist came down on the table to cope with the plethora of spanks that rained down on your poor ass after your admittance. "I am sorry, sir! Please!" Heat was seething out of your soft skin.

"Despite your boss' constant reminders?" It seemed as if Andy wanted to make the wood of the ruler one with your skin at this point.

"DESPITE MY BOSS' CONSTANT REMINDERS, YES SIR OHMYGOD PLEASE, SIR!" You tried to dodge the hits by trying to move your ass away from him only for the man to firmly grab a hold of one of your hips to hold you down with much ease. "I AM SORRY, SIR! PLEASE!"

"Tell me, Miss Y/L/N" his own breathing was labored when he finally stopped and let go of your side to snake his hand through and around your hair to gather a handful. Andy pulled your head and upper half of the body up with a jerk of the hand that he was holding your hair with. "Do you disrespect the work environment on purpose?" A shiver slithered through you despite the heaving in your chest when your boss pressed his warm body against your half naked back, perching his bearded chin on the junction between your shoulder and neck. "To get in trouble and end up here…" Your lips parched when he briefly ghosted the tip of his nose against your teary cheeks, facial hair scratching the skin of your jaw. "Like this, with your… boss?"

Your moist eyes widened and you gasped. "O- Of course n- not, Mr. Barber!" You sputtered through your overwhelmed and hazy mind. "I- I am not that k- kind of a girl!" Your boss snorted under his breath.

"Then that only leaves us with one conclusion, Miss Y/L/N…" Your shoulder pressed against the base of his jaw in its attempt to recoil against his ticklish invasion.

"W- What conclu–" the paper crumbled noisily between your fingers as you writhed. "... C- Conclusion, sir?" You stopped yourself from whining as your cheek reached out to seek the warmth his had been providing when he pulled away.

"That you, Miss Y/L/N…" The hand that Andy was holding your hair with forcefully craned your head downwards as his other hand straightened out the letter before firmly pasting itself on one side to keep the paper in place, the dim light of his office bouncing off the silver wedding band he wore on it. "Are simply not eligible for the job."

Your eyes widened as you audibly gasped. Oh no. "No, sir! Please! I am eligible for the job!" The man only clicked his tongue.

"I am sorry, Miss Y/L/N, but this letter and your overall behavior tells me otherwise" the finality in his words made you panic. "Lack of punctuality…" Andy's lips ghosted over the shell of your ear. "Lack of work ethic…" The gravelly effect his low volume was creating in his voice made your thighs quiver in need despite your throbbing ass. Actually, it added to the arousal that was boiling between your hips. "Lack of…" Craining your neck backwards, your boss moved his hand from the page to the curve between your legs and cupped your core. "Decency." Clicking his tongue he brought the back of the same hand against your ass again. "Tsk, all sprawled out and leaking in front of your boss like a dirty little opportunist" your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your hips rocked against empty air to cope with the surge of shivers that bolted down your waist. Another backhand strike was given to your ass to bring you out of your brief daze before his hand placed itself on the document again.

"Oh, please, Mr. Barber!" You begged as you tried to move your head to face him but his firm hold on your hair kept you facing the disaster that had costed your boss a fraction of his otherwise spotless reputation. "I really need this job!" You timidly moved your hand that was besides his on the table, hoping he would not take offense from what you were about to do. "I- I…" Your tongue burnt in embarrassment. "I- I beg you please r- reconsider…" Your pinky finger reached for his thumb and slowly caressed the larger digit as you bit your tongue.

Your boss sighed. "I've been wasting the State's resources reconsidering for two years now" the words left a pang on your self esteem.

District Attorney Andrew Barber was infamous within the entire Middlesex County Courthouse for having no tolerance for unprofessionalism and fuck ups. You had to be at par to survive under him and ready to face any challenge head on especially if you were new. And your boss considered any one with less than a decade of experience to be new. So while your heart tried to console you into thinking that the relationship you had with him would help in some way, better judgment did not shy away from giving you the harsh check that once Andy Barber was done with someone, he made sure they did not breathe the same workspace air as him ever again.

You had heard stories, and they were not nice.

You pouted in both shame and guilt as you hooked your pinky around his thumb softly. "I- I am sorry, Mr. Barber, honest. P- Please give me a chance. I'll d- do anything to prove myself!" If only you were not so clumsy and negligent you would not have been in this embarrassing situation in the first place.

"Will you, now?" He was clearly not convinced. Not in the slightest.

"P- Promise!"

Andy sighed. "Fine." He forcefully whipped your head to the side to face him, one eyebrow raised slightly. "But you are packing yourself a box no questions asked if you fail, I don't have the time or any more resources for your not taking this very sensitive job seriously" the sternness of his deep voice made you gulp.

"Y- Yes, sir." A whimper escaped you as you bit on your tongue to stop yourself from grinding your burning ass against his crotch. Yes, you were on the verge of getting fired but he was so hot when he was like this. "B- But I promise I'll do whatever you say and prove myself!" A dangerous glint appeared in his dark blue eyes.

"Whatever I say, huh?"

"Whatever you say, sir!" You dared not think your words over, aware of the thinness of the thread that was holding you.

"Very well." Your head was made to face the paper again; downwards. Just how he liked you against him. "Tell me, Miss Y/L/N…" His lips were against your ear as he placed the hand that was on the table over yours. "What happens when we make a mistake?" Fuck. Andy was speaking slowly in a manner similar to one a person adopts to speak to a child.

Well, he never had made your dumbness a secret.

"W- We apologize for it, sir" your heart jumped and eyes widened again when he reached for the ruler without humming in agreement. Shit. You had done something wrong. You raked your brain desperately. Something was missing. But what?! As Andy started to lower you in the humiliating spanking position again a bulb went off in your head. "A- AND!" You stiffened your back, refusing to go down any further regardless of how much slick you had released during the spanking. It hurt just as much as it aroused you. Your boss was way too strong for you to withstand another ruler spanking by him in the same hour. "AND WE RECTIFY, SIR! PLEASE, SIR! WE RECTIFY IT, SIR! PLEASE!" Now he chuckled softly.

You sighed in relief, having no choice but to only hope your ass was safe now.

"That's right…" Tilting your head back to bring your ear closer to his lips again, Andy grazed the wooden weapon against your unblemished thighs from the front. "So, will you rectify, Miss Y/L/N?" When you nodded with an obedient yes sir, Andy's lips curled against the helix of your ear. "Any way I tell you to?"

"Anything, whatever, however, sir" you helplessly breathed, needing him to touch you more but knowing he wouldn't until he was done with making his point.

"Good girl" you whimpered in relief when he finally placed the ruler in its place on the table. That meant it was done for the rest of the evening. "You will rectify this letter in front of me right now" because you were bound to procrastinate until the next deadline, you knew it just as well as him. "Only you will do it…" Andy's voice lowered to a whisper. "Sitting on my cock with your cute tits hanging out like the desperate little favor slut that you are" as if on cue, your hole clenched and released more slick. Your cheeks flushed.

"Y- Yes, sir." You tried not to sound too eager. "Thank you, sir." Your training echoed in your response.

Since your rights to a personal office had been revoked a month after your joining –courtesy of your work ethic, or lack thereof– it was not too much of a challenge to walk to your work table half naked with the accompaniment of your blushing and bruising ass on full display. Andy had ordered for your desk to be set up in a corner of his own office where he could keep his vigilant eye on you at all times.

Grabbing your laptop and keeping your head low once you turned to walk to your boss' chair, you chewed on your bottom lip while trying to ignore his piercing gaze as he spread his massive thighs, getting comfortable on the chair while admiring his handiwork; you.

"I- I'll just…" Your face burnt in humiliation as you awkwardly malfunctioned, his intense eyes making you too aware of everything all at once. Clutching your laptop close to your chest you moved his own away with your free hand before placing yours in the spot. "Y- Yeah…" He knew how much the silence stung you in these situations so he stayed just like that, enjoying the show of you stumbling and panicking as you made a mess of figuring out what to do first like a clueless little baby. Your mind took a few moments to catch up and you sighed in relief when it did. Having decided your course of action, you bent down at last and reached for his fly.

Andy only tutted, making you look up at him in confusion. You were already half naked so all you had to do was to undo his pants and get to work… right? Oh God. His intimidating gaze made you second guess everything everytime. The man slowly shook his head before tilting it to the side and raising an amused eyebrow at you. It took you about a minute's worth of blinking at him blankly before you realized…

Oh! "M- May I, sir?" His snort made your heart drop and you almost whined. He was being so mean! "Thank you, s- sir" you breathed out as quietly as you possibly could when he finally nodded at last, clearly taking his sweet time with flustering you every chance he got.

Andy's huge cock never failed to intimidate you, because the rather monstrous girth coupled with the sheer length seemed to always make a promise that your little pussy would not be able to accommodate it.

And then the heavy balls were a whole another thing.

You turned around to prepare yourself to sit on the seat your boss had chosen for you this evening. Once his very hard and leaking cock was unsheathed, your shaky hands reached for the arm rests of the chair as you winced and lowered yourself. The tremble in your thighs increased as they slightly widened due to the position you were in, the sticky skin causing a noticeable plop sound. Your face and ass burnt alike.

"Come on now, you know this, Miss Y/L/N" Andy finally spoke in an encouraging tone, his own voice strangled as he grabbed one of your hips gently, the metal of his wedding band cold against your skin. "Just like that… good girl." The stiff ridge of his cock grazed against your folds and you whimpered in response, moving your ass to try and fit your entrance against it but the thick top slid away due to the difference in size of the impaler and about to be impaled.

Your knees gave out at last and you landed on your boss' lap with a loud and embarrassing oof, quickly apologizing and scrambling back up on your feet to not annoy him any more than you already had today.

Andy sighed. "I don't know, Miss Y/L/N." You could just visualize him shaking his head in disappointment as you hurriedly tried to align yourself against the fat organ that just would not fucking stay put against your slippery folds. "You are not exactly helping me here…" He stroked your ass cheeks with the back of his hand, the ring cooling your skin in tiny streaks. "All I see is a clueless little girl dumbly patting about like it's her first time." You started to struggle to reach behind you to try and hold the organ in place now, killing the frustrated whine that was threatening to burst out of you. "If I didn't know any better I'd say you were ineligible for this simple little task as well" you cried out when he struck your bruised cheeks with the back of his hand, the suddenness of his action shocking you into slipping. Your pussy that had finally found his tip sunk down the giant span of his cock with a loud squelch and the fat ridge collided with your special little spongy spot as you landed in your spot for the evening.

"Oh, my God!" Your back arched as you threw your head back and felt stars cloud your vision. The tight ring of muscles guarding the wet cavern leading up to your womb clenched around his girth as you felt the tip press against your sensitive bundle of nerves cruelly.

Andy moved slowly and his chest pressed against your back, the movement causing friction against your needy and much sensitive walls. Only, the stimulation was just enough to persevere the small flame of raw, hot need between your hips but not enough to cause or move towards any sort of relief. You leaned into him as you felt his hands reach for your pussy, the action making you sigh out in relief. Finally, some help.

But you should have known your boss better…

It was not your aching and throbbing core that was grabbed but the front of your silk blouse that his rough fingers curled against before the velvet coated buttons went flying everywhere. Your eyes widened as you gasped in realization of what he had done, pussy clenching and making him grunt out a chuckle as he pulled your bra cups away to let your tits hang free, as he liked to say it.

"Dumb little girl…" His face had found the crook of your neck again, the hickey he had left there yesterday hot against his moist lips. "Needs her boss to do everything for her, tsk" a punishing smack resounded against one of your boobs and your back arched to withstand the ache the strike caused in your nipple, the action resulting in the creation of the same torturous friction in your weeping walls. "Well, what are you waiting for, then? Get to it!" Andy's stern words brought you back on ground and your bottom lip wobbled.

So cruel.

You sniffled. "Y- Yes, sir…" Biting your lip to try and keep still as much as could be possible, you pulled the lid of your laptop upwards until the screen lit up to life. A small whine left you when your nipple was pinched and pulled as a silent reprimand for the lack of password. Your careful boss had warned you and even taught you how to put a password on the device because of the sensitive data files and case material in your hard drive.

But it was just so much work having to type it in every time you locked it or it went to sleep mode!

You gulped as you tried to pretend that nothing was wrong or out of the ordinary, feeling your cheeks heat up when Andy snorted at your wallpaper. It was a picture of you and him at a work dinner in a fancy restaurant. A colleague you were girlfriends with had taken the picture where you were leaning into Andy as he smiled and poured wine into his glass. While you looked into the camera, his eyes were trained at what he was doing, the silver of his wedding band glinting under the lights. The wall behind you two was made of glass and the pink evening sky beautifully melted into a bright orange as it blended with the tall city buildings soon after.

Biting your lip in embarrassment because you knew his wallpaper was that of some famous architecture, you quickly clicked on the file that had led to your doom. You liked to think that you were normally not this shy but you were both different and not your usual selves in these situations. A wince slithered past your lips when you mindlessly reached for the printout that he had corrected only for his cock to rub against and probe into your insides.

Andy leaned back against the chair but did not let go of your boobs, resorting to softly toying with them as he enjoyed the sight of you struggling to straighten out the paper, place it and move the cursor. If you had learnt one thing under your boss it was that you should try to keep your work as errorless and up to par as much as your qualification and experience allowed. But once the District Attorney had corrected something himself in his rather traditional method, you were to rectify the final draft in the exact same manner.

Or else.

Said or else you had found out 2 months into your job so you dared not stray, shakily grabbing a pencil to cross out everything you were setting right on the paper.

Some minutes passed in silence after that, the nib of the pencil occasionally scratching the paper and the clicks of the keyboard the only sounds in the room. Your body was tense as you rigidly worked, the tautness caused by your controlled breathing making your chest ache as you tried to stay still to avoid raising any more of your boss' ire as well as to suppress the painful friction where your bodies connected as much as could be managed.

When your laboured breathing turned into soft grunts, Andy tore his gaze away from the screen as he blinked and noticed just how stiff your form had become. The man detached a hand from one of your nipples that he had been twirling while enjoying the feeling of your warm cavern hugging him to place it on your hip. After bracing you for the inevitable rubbing of your flesh against his skin, the man reached for the covered glass of water that he kept on his table and dragged the tumbler towards him before grabbing it.

"Relax" his free hand rubbed your side as he brought the rim to your lips. "You're too tense" you were grateful for the ticklish kiss that was placed against your bare shoulder. "It's okay, sweetheart. Just relax…" You only realized the parchness of your mouth when you sipped the cool water and sighed as it trickled its way down your throat.

Then Andy guided you through the quick breathing excercise you needed in these sorts of instances sometimes.

"Thank you, sir" you submissively whimpered as you ducked your face in his direction and felt your eyelids flutter close, soft cheek pressing against his bearded one for comfort. It was now that you realized just how tightly you had been clenching all your muscles defensively.

But your caring husband had come to your rescue, as always.

Even when boss was displeased and unforgiving.

"You're doing a good job, honey" Andy peppered soft kisses all over your cheek, caressing the nipple he had cruelly twisted a few minutes before with a featherlight touch. "You're nearly there now, I am so proud of you" the words of affirmation made you smile softly and you deemed it okay to kiss his scruffy cheek.

You needed it.

"Thank you, hubby. You're the best. I love you so much" before you turned around albeit with a wince thanks to the rod of flesh still very much violating your insides, getting back to work with a newfound enthusiasm.

Andy now palmed your pussy softly but did not allow you any stimulation just because he was mean like that, nibbling at the hickey he had left on one of your boobs this morning. "I love you more, my dearest" pressing a sloppy kiss to the bruise, he steeled one of your hips in place with a firm hand when you got too ahead of yourself and tried to produce friction. Though you knew that the only two possible things you could have after sitting on his dick for this long was either a ruined orgasm or a climax so powerful that your consciousness would give out. "But only sir or boss in the office" he could not help but snicker, resulting in the sending of vibrations up your womb when his stern words made you clench around his balls that your wetness had welcomed in it centimeter by centimeter.

"Yes, s- sir~" you breathed out shakily, typing in the last word before crossing it out from the paper and tallying the two versions of the letter. "Sorry, sir."

After you were sure you had gotten everything right, you crossed your fingers and requested the boss to review it one last time. A sigh of relief escaped you when Andy's firm gaze scrutinized the draft for some five minutes before he hummed with a nod, ordering you to print it then and there because he knew you too well.

The District Attorney then made you lift yourself off his cock to collect the print and waddle to your table to get an envelope for it. Andy fixed himself up after sending you on your way with a last ass shattering slap that made you jump with a squeal. The man only chuckled and shook his head at your quirks.

"Now fix my desk, Miss Y/L/N, thank you" was your last order for the day as your boss got up and picked up his coat, ready to leave in his now proper attire while you obeyed completely naked with the only exceptions being your tattered blouse and bra hanging from your shoulders. Pulling his laptop back in place, you returned the tumbler in its spot and covered it, moving some files that were out of place in order before gulping as you nudged the ruler back in its appropriate position.

Once you were done, you wobbled back and moved his chair in place.

"Done, sir."

Andy smiled and held out one arm invitingly as his coat hung from the other one. "Come to hubby" you gladly lept in his direction and reached for his hand with the one on which the expensive diamond of your wedding ring was twinkling under the dim lights.

"Can't walk, honey" you pouted and batted your eyelashes at him in that cute way that made him lose his mind every time.

Andy snorted and nodded, fully aware of your trick but not complaining. "Of course, hun" draping his coat that protectively covered everything that needed covering over your form, the older man ducked to circle his arms around your legs, the blistered skin of your ass making you wince as he hauled you up on his shoulder with ease.

"Honey?" Hugging your husband's warm jacket tight around your form, you felt him place a safe hand on your ass to keep the last section of the coat in place, just in case. You pouted while hanging upside down as Andy moved around the room with no regard for your weight.

Almost as though you were nothing more than a light blanket role.

Perks of marrying a man who had tanks for arms.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Your husband questioned as he locked the office's door which read Mr. & Mrs. Andrew Barber after turning the lights off, tugging at the handle at last, just to be sure.

You whimpered before pouting a little, watching the back of his head as you toyed with your wedding ring nervously. "D- Did you mean all that about the r- resources and f- firing me…?" He had sounded alarmingly serious and you had almost pulled the plug on the scene then and there. So you needed reassurance.

Your strict husband softly chuckled. "Don't worry your pretty little head about that, darling…" Andy patted your sore ass before continuing. "You'll make a cute housewife." Wait…

Oh, no!

You did not want to spend the entire day apart from your husband waiting and waiting only for him to come back for a handful of hours! No! Absolutely unacceptable! You almost huffed out loud before stopping yourself and resorting to shaking your head quietly instead. Because you knew better than to argue with Mr. Responsible District Attorney -for you had joked recklessly about work once and that day had not ended well for you-, you vowed to yourself to start being less negligent instead.

Because there was no way you were getting fired from this job.

Ever.

#andy barber #andy barber smut #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber x you #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x reader

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sim0nril3y · 8 months

Note

hii, I LOVEE your Simon x civilian! reader series!

I was thinking maybe of Simon finding readers scketchbook and discovering that it s pretty much filled with him? maybe reader has some drawings of a favourite picture of the both of them that s also colored with little hearts?

please and thank you! <3

Thank you thank this is actually so CUTE! I absolutely LOVE the thought of this, like I’ve actually be dreaming about it!

There would be times when Simon would catch you watching him. Like, he would be making a tea, putting the dishes away or sharing out the take-away you’d ordered between a couple plates when he’d feel that eery sense of being watched. Glancing over his shoulder he’d spot you just observing him with great interest, sketchpad in your lap and the moment Simon was aware your eyes would dart away and continue to focus on your pencil against the page.

You had been so happy to show him so much of your art, but that sketchbook in particular was on that you had very clearly kept to yourself. Each time he would pick it up you were overly protective and practically snatched it back, hiding it behind the sofa or throwing it into a drawer. “You hiding something from me?” He quirked a brow and you pressed a soft hand to your chest and replied. “Not at all. Cuppa?” You always seemed to pull his attention away quick enough that he’d drop it.

It was a few nights later that Simon spotted that sketchbook again left vulnerably on your coffee table whilst snoozed, cutely curled up on the sofa beside him, head resting on the arm of the chair whilst your feet rest happily in his lap. His eyes flicked from the football game, back to the book and then back to the game. Fuck it. He leaned forward and snatched it from the table, carefully beginning to flick through the first couple of pages.

It was as he had expected, just a few innocent sketches of flowers, all different types that he certainly couldn’t name. He almost placed the book back down before turning to the next page and feeling his face becoming very warm. Your interests for sketching had changed away from pretty flowers to sketches of him. They were all him doing very mundane and candid things. There was one of him sipping tea from a rather fancy cup, then another of him lifting his heavy dumbbells, another of him running his hands through his hair Simon noticed you’d taken great detail to sketch his hands, another small sketch of him pulling off his shirt and somehow, you’d manage to capture every little scar that littered his body.

As he continued to explore the book Simon noticed that there were some sketches of the two of you. He remembered when you had forced him to take a photo together on a woodland walk, the first picture taken of him for years but he was willing to do it to make you happy. You had taken time sketching that photo, taking in every little detail, even the disdain on his face. He should have given you a smile that day, but instead he just looked pissed whilst you beamed at the camera. His little ray of sunshine. God, he fucking loved you.

“What are you doing?” From beside him your voice was full of surprise before quickly attempting to steal the book from him but he held it up from your reach. “I was looking at your sketches, love.” He mentioned, laughing as you clambered onto his lap attempting to grab it from his greedy hands. “You wanna explain them to me?”

A quiet sigh of embarrassment fell from your lips before you stopped trying to snatch the book from him and just sunk into his body, burying your face in his throat whilst he rubbed your back comfortingly. “I like them.” He whispered into your ear. “I’m not mad, love.” He assured you softly, rubbing small circles into your face. “I just like drawing you, Si.” You whispered into his throat and he chuckled. “You’re so handsome.” He felt heat rising on his cheeks then. “And so strong… I see you doing all these really normal things and… and I just need to put it on paper… I don’t know…”

“My sweet girl…” He chuckled rubbing your back and placing the sketchbook beside him. “Don’t hide things like this from me, love…” He placed a few small kisses to the side of your face. “You don’t think I’m some obsessed weirdo?” You whined softly and he chuckled and shook his head. “I love that you’re obsessed.” He growled, quickly moving you to be flat back on the sofa with him looming above you. “Now, let me show you how much more I’m obsessed with you~”

Masterlist | Ask | 08-09-2023

#simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #ghost x oc #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon riley imagine #simon riley x y/n #simon riley smut #simon riley cod #ghost smut #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost imagine

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coldfanbou · 10 months

Text

Mail Order Maid

Now this is a pop-up I would want. Here is the other fic I decided on for the week. I really got airhead vibes from Momo because of this picture.

Length 2K

Momo x Mreader

Browsing the internet with nothing to do, you flick through web pages and switch between apps until a notification pops up and covers your screen. "Congratulations! You've won a prize of your choice. Please make your selection." You had yet to click on anything to warrant a pop-up, but there it was. The ad was there to stay, too, as you tried to find the button to close it. A little annoyed that you can't find it after a few minutes, you restart your phone. It doesn't help; the ad reappears as soon as you unlock it. You sigh, scroll down to the bottom of the page, and click on the prize selection button. You see a bunch of small items that were pretty useless to you. You click on the mystery object, and the ad goes away on its own. You think how weird that was before putting it out of your mind.

A few days later, a knock on the door sends you running toward it, expecting to have your new laptop waiting for you. At the front door, the delivery hands you a paper to sign; without a thought, you sign it and hand it back. He wishes you good luck before walking away with a dolly. You look outside to see a giant box. Turning in the delivery man's direction, he's out of sight, and you're left with the giant box. The box is heavy and impossible for you to move by yourself. "The least he could've done would be to leave it inside," you think to yourself. You try to pull it forward with your hands on either side of the box. You do this a few more times before the front of the box completely breaks off. As you look inside the box, you're surprised to see a woman sitting inside. She waves to you with a smile on her face. "Who are you? Why are you in a box? How long have you been in there?" You ask as you pepper the woman with questions.

"I'm Momo! It's nice to finally meet you, Master." The woman climbs out of the box, and you get your first good look at her. She has what looks to be a bandana wrapped around her head, and as your eyes move downward, they're immediately attracted to her ample bust. A shoulderless crop top squeezes her breasts together while the rest of her outfit consists of overalls.

"Master? What are you talking about?"

"You're my master, aren't you?" Momo looks toward your door and reads the address. Pulling out a piece of paper from between her breasts, she unfolds it before showing you. "No, this is definitely the right place. You're my Master." You read the paper, which has your name and address written on it. You think it's a prank at first, but a partial receipt shows you someone paid a considerable amount to ship Momo to you. It only gave you enough information to figure that out and nothing else."What do you want to do first, Master?"

Momo's question gets your attention, and you look back at her. She smiles at you, looking into her eyes; there's not a thought behind them. "I…get inside, please."

"Okay!" Momo says as she walks into your home. She looks around the place before sitting down on your couch. You close the front door and stare at Momo. She looks back at you and blushes. "Don't look at me like that, Master…but if you really want to… we can do it."

"What? No. How did you get here?"

"In the box?" Momo responds, trying to understand why you would ask. "Master, you need to relax. I can give you a massage if you'd like." She says as she stands up and walks to you.

"No, I don't need a massage." You try to slap away Momo's hands, but she pushes through. Once her hands reach your shoulders, you feel your stress melt away instantly and can't argue with her. Momo gets around behind you, massaging your shoulders and pressing her tits against your back.

"It’s okay, Master." Momo calmly states. Her massage relaxes you, and you forget to ask her any questions. It was as if Momo had some special power. You tilt your head back, glancing at Momo only to see her smile. "Let's go to the shower. I can give you a better massage there." You nod your head, and Momo leads you to the bathroom. She strips you of your clothes and asks you to sit on the chair in the shower. You do as instructed and watch as Momo strips out of her clothes. She pulls off her bandana, letting her hair fall down. After that, she unlatches the button holding her overalls and lets the piece of clothing fall to the floor. Your eyes move up her legs until you see she isn't wearing underwear. Her pink pussy was out for you to see; her thighs were getting wet from her nectar. You get hard and unconsciously stroke your cock. As your eyes move upward, you catch Momo lifting her crop top, her breasts bouncing as her shirt pops above them. Once Momo's eyes reach you, they wander down and notice you're stroking yourself. "Master, let me."

She steps into the shower and kneels before you. Her hand replaces yours; her soft, delicate fingers wrap around your shaft before she starts stroking your cock. "You're so hard, Master. Don't worry; I'll take good care of you." You start groaning, each stroke pushing you closer to your orgasm. Once precum starts to leak from your cock Momo takes a tiny lick at the tip of your cock. A jolt of pleasure rushes down your spine, and you moan loudly. Momo uses her other hand to start the shower, causing water to rain down on both of you. Following that, it finds its place by playing with your balls, squeezing them gently. "Master, you have a lot here. I'll make sure to drain you." Momo takes another lick at the head of your cock. She pauses momentarily, leaning down to kiss it before pushing your cock inside. Your new servant keeps her lips wrapped tightly around your cock, and uses her tongue to flick the head.

"Oh fuck. You're so good at this, Momo," you moan. You push on the back of her head gently, and Momo takes in more of your cock without a problem. Her hand plays with your balls as she starts to bob her head. When you look down, you see her eyes looking back at you, pleading for you to release your stress. You hold on a little longer, your cock twitches in her mouth, and seeing you weren't going to let yourself cum, Momo pushes your cock into the back of her throat. As you hit the back of her throat, you let go and spurt rope after rope of cum. Momo's mouth fills up quickly; her cheeks puff out as they fill with cum. The salty liquid leaks from the corners of her mouth before she can drink it all. The falling water clears away your cum before Momo has a chance to collect it all.

She moves on. However, Momo stands and starts riding your thigh as she presses her breasts against you. Grabbing some soap, Momo lathers her breasts and uses them to massage your body. You feel her grind her lower body on your thigh and hear her soft moans. "I'll take good care of you, Master." Her hard nipples drag along your chest, and you start to get hard again. She feels your cock poke her legs and smiles at you. "My Master has so much energy," Momo says as she moves forward and straddles you. Your cock is trapped between your stomach and her cunt as Momo grinds against you. Your hands start to wander around Momo's body, moving down her sides before you squeeze her ass. Momo jumps a little but giggles. "Master's so naughty." Momo's breaths become labored as you continue to play with her ass. Small moans start to leave her as she rubs her cunt against you.

"Momo, ride me." You say, commanding her.

"Yes, Master," Momo replies as she lifts herself. You rub your cock against her entrance before pulling Momo onto it. Momo's back arches as you push more of your cock in. Her warm walls are wrapped snugly around your cock; it feels as if Momo was made for you. Momo moans loudly as she finally takes your entire cock inside. She wraps her arms around you and rests her head on your shoulder as you begin thrusting. "Ahh, Master, you're so big."

"Do you like your Master's cock?"

"I-I love it. It's the only one for me." Momo replies as she presses her chest against you.

"Good, you'll be getting a lot more of it." You moan as you start to thrust faster. You're holding onto Momo's waist, pushing her down as you buck your hips. With every thrust, you're slamming against her cervix, making Momo a quivering mess. Her walls tighten around your cock as she begins to cry out from the pleasure. You're pushing ever closer to your orgasm when you decide to kiss Momo. Her eyes shoot open, but as you hold the kiss, she begins to accept it. You begin to explore her mouth as your tongues rub against each other.

"Mmm, Master. I'm going to cum." She says in muffled tones. You spank Momo suddenly, causing her to yelp in pain.

"We're going to cum together; hold it."

"Yes, Master." She moans as you give her another hard strike. You stand up and press Momo against the shower wall, her legs wrap around you, and she places her hands on your shoulder. Being pinned between the wall and you leaves Momo as a fuck doll for you. You start ramming your cock deep within Momo, your thrusts going wild. Momo starts to dig her nails into your skin. "Master, please cum. I-I can't hold it much longer."

"Hold on a little bit longer."

"I-I can't!" Momo cries as her legs tighten around you, and she orgasms. Her walls squeeze your cock, coaxing you. You give a few more thrusts before you follow Momo's lead and climax. You bury your cock in Momo, painting her walls white as you spew hot cum into her. Capturing her lips once more, Momo weakly returns it, her chest heaving and her legs dangling as she recovers. You move back and sit down, keeping Momo attached to you. You enjoy the feeling of her cunt trying to milk you for more. Some minutes pass before you lift Momo off you. After you shut off the water, you take your cock and point it toward Momo.

"Please clean me, Momo." Momo nods along. She takes your cock in hand and drags her tongue along your shaft. Before letting go and letting your cock slap her face. She smiles to herself before taking your cock in hand again and cleaning you up. Her tongue swirls around your cock as Momo bobs her head. Once clean, she kisses your tip and tries to stand up. She nearly tumbles, but you steady her. Cum drips out from her cunt and runs along her leg. "Take a shower if you'd like, Momo." You say as you place her on the seat you used earlier.

"Thank you, Master." You leave the shower and dry yourself off. As you wait for Momo to come out, you think about the situation again. Whatever the reason for Momo to show up, you wouldn't fight it. You had a maid now that would take care of your needs. Momo soon emerges from the shower, and you order her onto your lap.

"Momo, I'm your master, right?"

"Yes,"

"Good. Then you're not allowed to wear clothes here. I want to have access to your body whenever I want."

Momo blushes, "If that's my master's order. I have to follow it." She stands up and drops her towel to the floor. You were going to enjoy your new life with your servant.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #twice smut #momo smut

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