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#cos it's hot if i do say so myself
griffworks · 4 months
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Sad day today
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vulturereyy · 1 year
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as a huge Dark Souls fan who honestly loves the games more for their lore and themes than ooo big boss fights, i wish i was coherent enough to make a big long beautiful dissecting post about the themes of DS and HK, but honestly. I just like that there is a possibility of 'saving' Hallownest. Not the kingdom itself perhaps but. All isn't so totally lost like in Dark Souls. There's still room to rebuild, there's still folks who haven't given up, there's still most of the infrastructure and even groups of bugs like the Mantises or the denizens of Deepnest (the creepy noble ones I'm talking about with the bench) that thrive (?). In Dark Souls, there is... Nothing to really 'save.' The best ending options, in my opinion, are to just let everything *rest* at last. Let the fire fade, let the cycle begin anew. You won't survive, nor will anyone you've met, but existence itself will, because you let everything be burned away at last.
But I don't feel that way about Hallownest. Society still hasn't fallen... *That* far, compared to like, Lothric and Lordran, and hell even Drangleic. I can't quite think of one character in HK who even mentions just waiting for death at this point because that's the only good way anyone is getting out of this (not in a self-death way but like, the world of dark souls is very much converging in on itself because it's been kept in stasis for *so* long to try and preserve Gwyn's Age of Fire. It's not sustainable.) I think Cornifer is a great example for this. He hasn't lost hope, he's got a clear purpose, and yes, he takes your geo (as does Iselda), but both of them take it with the future in mind. They both look forward to the day Cornifer can come home and they can just settle down together. In Dark Souls, there are merchants, but many of them are just kind of... Taking money for money's sake, really. There's not much to *do* with it, there's nothing to look forward to with it. They're getting it for the feeling of power that comes from wealth. There are a few exceptions (Shoutout to my man Domhnall of Zena the best character in DS1) but on the whole, it's a very different vibe. Even Sly, who says himself he just likes to be rich, doesn't seem to be taking it to die rich. No one is waiting for Hallownest to fall.
I don't know. Dark Souls will always be my favorite series, but there's something to be said about how Hollow Knight took a similar path and I prefer the feeling of the endings much more. Sure, in the case of the endings like Dream No More, you shed your shell and *you* return to the void, but Hallownest lives on. Not only does it live on, but it lives on WITH NO (or very, VERY little) CHANCE OF THE CURSE/INFECTION COMING BACK! And hell even your self-sacrifice is viewed as a good thing for you, the Ghost, and the Hollow Knight, because you get to finally *rest*. It's not even painted in a horrible light for the ghost personally.
Hollow Knight lets you kill the Undead Curse and Hollowing itself (i.e. the Infection). It lets you undo the mistakes and wrath of a vengeful god who wants to keep grasping at what little power they have over the lands. A lot has been lost, but not *so* much that everything is for naught.
Hollow Knight makes the best endings the one where the world survives, and I think that's beautiful.
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concerto-roblox · 2 years
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just made the same cup of coffee three times and now i'm crying how's your evening going
#so i'm at work and we didn't use to serve coffe but now we do#and i have never made coffee before in my life#and it should be fairly simple bc it's instant#but i forget to turn the machine on when i get to work#and then this guy tells me his coffee is 'freezing cold'#which it literally wasn't it was literally warm but apprently coffee is supposed to burn the roof of your mouth or whatever#i say sorry and then try not to cry bc i feel stupid#and then i go wait for the water to heat up more and i keep putting some in a cup to test how hot it is#i think it's hot enough but after i've made it i start panicking it's not hot enough#and the sink is broken so i go outside to poor it down the drain#and then i TRIP and spill it all over my hand#turns out it was hot enough bc i burned my whole hand and started actually crying#i don't get to the cold water fast enough so it stings like a bitch#then i go make the coffee AGAIN (while crying) and try to calm down#i go give the guy his coffee and say sorry it took so long and i pretend the machine is broken bc i'm so fucking embarrassed#this time he seems nice and says thank you but idk if it's cos he heard me crying or not#i try to hold it in but i accidentally make a weird noise while walking away and i'm hoping he didn't hear me#and yeah now i feel stupid AND i hurt myself#girlies do not believe anyone who says autism isn't a disability 😔#just realised i misspelled coffee in the first tag but i'm on mobile and am not going back to change it lmao#how to be cringe 101#i may delete this idk i don't normally vent on here but i needed to talk abt it to calm myself down#and i can't call either of my parents bc of the stupid *******#sorry i'll stop i honestly feel better now
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honeybleed · 14 days
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— ★ CAPTAINS AS WORK HUSBANDS
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content & warnings: fem!reader, post time skip, changed daichi to a firefighter because fuck the police (idea courtesy of deja 😁), kind of suggestive in oikawa & kuroo’s ones, fluff & crack
featuring: various captains (that i’m more familiar with): daichi sawamura, tetsurō kuroo, wakatoshi ushijima & toru oikawa
author’s note: my first written thingie for haikyuu, i’m so nervous i made them ooc ;-; ik i’m late but i really went from supporting my kuroo harem mooties from the sidelines to joining. divider credit to @/xxbimbobunnyxx
daichi sawamura:
Working with Daichi Sawamura was comparable to smooth sailing.
Usually, your colleagues, seniors and juniors could come to the agreement you were exhausting to work with considering your tendencies to play by the book.
No exceptions.
Regardless, the past few weeks of organizing assemblies for schools around the prefecture regarding fire safety with Daichi had been…pleasant?
It was going to be the last assembly and this time it was for the fifth and sixth graders, you and Daichi were sitting in your office tidying up the paperwork.
“It’s late…how are you getting home?” He questioned.
“Oh…the trains are still running. I’m saving up for a car.” You said with an uneasy laugh, a little embarrassed.
“Nonsense, I can drop you home.” Daichi smiled.
“No, no Daichi. I don’t want you to go through all that trouble, thank you for the offer.” You said sheepishly, overwhelmed by the kind offer.
“I wouldn’t feel right about a woman going home this late at night. It’s no trouble for me, at all.”
A sliver of mischief overtook you.
“What? You think cos I’m a woman I’m too fragile to go home by myself?”
Daichi gave you a vacant look before panic set into his system.
“What?! No, no! I don’t think that women are very- No, YOU are more than capable-"
“Daichi, I was kidding.” You giggled. “Honestly, I think it’s sweet you have that chivalrous nature to you. Too many men on the trains give me the creeps anyway.”
He drove a modest car. It suited him. Reliable and not too flashy.
There was an air of melancholy as this would be the last time you’d work together.
As he killed the engine when you directed him to the parking lot of your apartment complex, he gave you a warm smile.
“I really enjoyed working with you.” He said.
“I could say the same..” You replied.
“Forgive me for getting ahead of myself…but I don’t want this to be the end.”
“Huh..?”
“I want to keep seeing you. Would…you like that?” He asked, voice cautious not to overstep.
But you nodded.
“I’d love to keep seeing you. I enjoy your company, Daichi.”
Two people in their late twenties, blushing wildly as their fingers brushed over the gearstick.
tetsurō kuroo:
“I can see you, you know.” You said in a wry tone, your fingers flying over the keyboard and your eyes fixated on the screen of the PC.
“And here I thought I was a stealth master.” Kuroo said in mock defeat as he stopped peeking from the doorway and headed towards your desk. “Alright, tell me. What gave it away?”
“It’s kinda hard to miss that rooster haircut of yours.” You responded. “Not to mention the fact you have to bend over not to bump into the doorframe.”
“Figures. I got some gossip for you.”
“Yeah?” You said as you raised a brow. “Don’t keep me on edge.”
“Seems like Takuya the tech guy has the hots for you.”
“…Me?”
“Don’t act all humble on us now. You know you’re the resident hottie.” He chuckled.
“Big achievement in a workplace where the average demographic in the administration office is middle-aged men. What do you want, Tetsu?” You sighed. “You only compliment me when you want something.”
“Well, I just came here to tell you I warded him off. No need to thank me.” He grinned as he folded his arms.
“And why would you do that?” You questioned, astounded by the absolute audacity.
He scoffed.
“Why wouldn’t I? The man has black under his nails and had to be called into HR because his B.O. was considered a bio-hazard.” Kuroo said, adamant in his decision.
“Okay, but it’s not your place.” You snickered, amused but still wanting to scold him a little.
Kuroo Tetsuro didn’t mind a little nagging if it came from you, anyway.
“Well, I’m sorry for having your best interest at heart.” He sulked as he eyed you making your way over to him.
Suddenly, his heart began to hammer as you yanked his tie down so his face was close to yours.
“For a team player, you sure don’t like to share, huh Tetsu? I know you want me all to yourself but try not to make it so obvious to the others.” You whispered, breath tickling the shell of his ear.
Heading out of the small office, Kuroo stood as if his feet were glued.
“Fuck, not now…” He groaned as he felt a strain down his slacks.
wakatoshi ushijima:
“Here.”
You looked up to see none other than Ushijima Wakatoshi, brandishing a small bottle in his hand.
As his physiotherapist for the last few months, it was easy to note his habits. For example, he always made sure to turn up to your appointments five minutes early. On the dot.
On the rare occasion he missed it (which had totalled up three times over six months) he’d make sure to email you the day before.
Even if he was ill, he knew his body. He knew a virus was on its way even without experiencing symptoms.
You tentatively took the small bottle from his grasp and gave him a grateful nod.
As you fixed your eyes on the label, almost as if he read your mind he spoke with that smooth voice of his.
“It’s kefir. Good for gut health.”
“Thank you, Wakatoshi.” You smiled. “That’s very sweet of you. Go ahead and take a seat and I’ll be right with you, okay?”
He nodded but one word threw him off.
…Sweet?
Ushijima felt the tips of his ears heat up. Nobody had called him sweet before. He instantly jerked when you set a hand on his lower back and ushered him indoors.
You were used to Ushijima’s strait-laced nature so you were taken aback at him being jumpy at physical touch.
He took a seat on the padded examination table.
It was always funny to see Ushijima’s hulking figure in your office, you smiled to yourself as you eyed him looking around aimlessly.
It was a little hard not to stare at those firm tan thighs of his.
You’d caught a few of his games where he usually dominated the court. His interactions with others were usually brunt and nothing too interesting.
“So, how's the pain been since our last session?”
“It still flares up during serves and spikes. But it’s manageable.” He replied earnestly.
“Do you mind if I examine that?” You asked.
He nodded and shed off his tracksuit top, a white vest underneath showing off his broad shoulders.
He may have agreed but he wasn’t prepared for those soft, manicured hands of yours to begin to knead and palm his right shoulder and back.
“…There seems to be the issue.” You stated as he jerked and hissed at a particular section of skin.
“Wakatoshi, I told you to ice that area. Have you been skipping out on doctor's orders…?” You teased as you tilted your head.
“You’re not my doctor.” He said bluntly.
“I’m the closest thing you got to one.” You chuckled, undeterred by his frigid tone. Quite frankly, it amused you.
“We'll probably need to focus on strengthening exercises. Can you dedicate time to that?”
“I’m sure.”
“Good. I want to see you at a hundred percent for that game that’s in two weeks."
“You’re coming to the next game?” Wakatoshi asked, a little taken aback. He knew your work schedule was full to the brim since every athlete came running to you.
“…Is that a problem?” You questioned, arching an eyebrow.
“Of course not.” He swallowed thickly and then met your gaze. “I’ll make sure to be on my A game.”
“You’d better be.” You grinned as you slapped his lower back, earning a deep groan from him:
toru oikawa:
“Remember what I told you.” You hissed as you and Oikawa walked into the brightly lit press conference room after his win.
“Relax, relax…! You’d think I was such a nightmare to work with with all your worrying.” He chuckled.
“I mean it. You might be doing fine in games but your publicity is in the toilet. I’m not saying be all sugary but try to be a little gratuitous. Thank your fans…something!”
You froze when you felt his large hands plant onto your shoulders, eyes widening.
“What did I just tell you?” He teased with a glint in his eye.
“…I’m a publicist, Toru. Relaxation doesn’t exist in my world.” You said bluntly.
In your peripherals you noticed a flash go off, causing you to roll your eyes.
There’d always been rumors circulating about the sexy PR manager and Argentina National Team’s Number 13.
You always nagged Oikawa to shoot them down for his own sake since his fangirls were relentless but the most he did was drop a ‘will they/won’t they?’ answer which annoyed you to no end.
“Maybe when you get time off I could fly you out. They have killer massages in Bangkok. You could use one.”
“Just go.” You hissed, pushing his hands off. As he jogged over to the table, he turned around to shoot you a wink.
Oikawa was a natural when it came to commanding attention. As he stood at the podium with microphones, with his billion-dollar smile, the journalists and reporters were buzzing with excitement.
“Alright, alright. Sorry for the hold-up folks. I know this was the first thing on your mind when you woke up.” He chuckled.
You automatically facepalmed.
Your advice went in one ear and out the other. Oikawa was lucky he was handsome. Because despite how douchey that was, it earned a rambunctious round of applause and cheers.
After the cheers settled down, the first reporter stood up, clearing his throat.
“Firstly, I’d like to congratulate you on your win. How does it feel to lead your team to victory once again?”
“It’s as natural as breathing.” He chuckled. “But our opponents put up a great fight. I’ll give credit where credit is due.”
“Despite the adoration from your fans, you’ve faced some criticism regarding your unsportsmanlike behavior of riling up rivals. Any response to that?” A female reporter enquired.
“Well, I know my sense of humor isn’t for everybody. Luckily I got our publicist keeping reins on me. And boy does she keep the leash tight, if you catch my drift.” He said with an impish grin.
At first silence, then it was a sudden flurry of questions, reporters and journalists fighting it out to get the first question.
“Are you dating each other?”
“Are you single or taken?”
Toru Oikawa had a talent for sparking media frenzies.
As your eyes met, you gave him a chopping neck gesture as you grit your teeth, earning a belly laugh from him.
You were so screwed.
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lovifie · 1 month
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Hormones Pt.3
Back to Masterlist - Taglist Form
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3
(little note at the end that if you read I'll really love you)
“What?!”
“It's me, can I come in, love?”
“What do you want, Ghost?” You ask with your face buried on the pillow.
The door opens, just long enough for him to enter and then he closes it behind him, locking it. You turn your head, a questioning look on your face, and he raises his hands to prove innocence.
“It's just to keep Johnny away.” He says, sitting down on the bed behind you and pulling your legs over his lap. “I wanted to apologise”
That gets you interested, because the man may be many things, but he is prideful and doesn't apologise too often.
“Why?” You ask, propping yourself up on your elbows and looking back at him.
“For being an asshole, and talking to you as badly as I did.” He admits, his warm hand engulfing your calf caressing it with his thumb. “It had never happened to me before, you know? Not being able to say what I meant to say, and just saying something stupid instead.”
You think for a moment, about risking it with a stupid question, but it's not like you have anything to lose and your brain is still too focused on thinking about his crotch before he covered with the pillow.
“It sounds like you have a crush on my, Ghost.” You try softly, looking at his eyes.
“Feels like it, too.” He says without breaking the eye contact. You are a bit surprised by his straightforward approach, not hiding behind words.
His hand travels up your thigh when you turn around, sitting up to face him; legs still over his lap and his hand on the side of your leg. You look up to him, waiting for him to say that he is joking; but he doesn't.
Still, inside of your head, there is this voice that reminds you that this is the same person who has treated you like garbage, that he is your superior and that until mere minutes ago he has never shown any kind of interest in you. 
It is a nice thing your brain tells you these things, but it's not like you are going to take them into account; not when you can feel the heat radiating from Ghost’s boner against your leg, feeling it twitch when he sees you looking at it.
“I saw the way you were looking at me this morning, love.” He says, making you peel your eyes away from his crotch and up to his eyes, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “It is not nice for a soldier to have her mind occupied with thoughts when they are working, you know?”
“Is it not?” You ask, clearly reading his intentions, moving to sit yourself on top of his lap. 
“Yeah… thinking about fucking your CO, sergeant.” He says, griping your hips and starting to grind you against his crotch, slowly and without real strength, letting you get away if you would want. You don’t. “I could get you in trouble, you know?”
“I don't want to get in trouble.” You mutter, unable to speak more loudly, as you feel his hardening dick rub against you, annoyed with the clothes in between. 
“Of course you don't, you are a good girl, right?” He asks lifting his mask, up to his nose so his mouth is exposed. You lean in, suddenly desperate to kiss him, only for his hand to grab your jaw forcing you to look up as his mouth finds its way to your neck. “Speak up, sergeant.”
You struggle to do so when he starts to kiss your neck, feeling like lava dripping down your skin with how hot his breath is. “Yes, sir.” You respond breathlessly, feeling him smile against your skin satisfied with your answer.
“Are you going to be a good girl for your lieutenant and let me have a taste, love?” He whispers against your neck, making you whine as an answer, earning yourself a hard slap on your asscheek. “I don't like to repeat myself, sergeant. Speak up when I ask you something.”
“Yes, sir.” You respond quickly, still whining, too turned on to bother about embarrassment, you’ll care about that tomorrow morning.
Ghost takes the hem of your shirt, pulling it up your head in a smooth motion; he doesn't bother to take off your bra, simply slips your arms out of it and pushes it down which pushes your boobs up and out just for him. He doesn’t waste time before biting the side of your boob, making you groan at the sting before he licks over it. 
You move your hand up to the back of his head, wrong move because he quickly grabs both your arms moving them behind your back holding them in place and causing you to arch your back, pushing your chest more against his face. He hums satisfied with the outcome and starts to suck your nipples into his mouth nibbling on it softly. 
You moan pulling your head back, letting him guide your hips with his other hand; helping you grind against his growing erection. Ghost’s mouth travels from one boob to the other, leaving a wet trail of spit in the process across your chest.
There is hunger in the way he keeps eating you, you can feel him bite down on the skin of your chest; most of them are soft just satisfying the need to feel you, but there are a couple of them that you are sure will leave a mark on your skin. Not that you mind, with the way you can feel your hips stutter each time he does it, clenching around nothing and making you grow desperate for more.
“Ghost… please” You moan, looking down at him and you see his pupils dilate when he makes eye contact with you. Something about the image of you looking down at him, while he feels you in his mouth truly makes him lose the little bit of restraint he had. 
He let go of your arms, moving instead to undo your belt and your trousers. He moves his face up to your neck again, before he whispers urging you to take off your trousers. “I want you to sit on my face, love. I want to feel you suffocate me. Fuck my face, please sweet girl.” He groans, grinding up hard against your cunt making you moan, just for him to lift you up enough to pull your trousers down, getting stuck on your ankles because of your shoes. 
He smirks, an idea crossing his mind and he looks at you with mischievousness that makes you shudder. He notices you try to undo your laces to take off your shoe and he quickly slaps your hand making you look at him with a confused expression. He moves so he can lay down on your bed and pulls you with him; you try to complain that you need to take off your trousers or you will choke him and it is then that you realize his plan. 
With you kneeling over his face, he raises his head and lays it back over your scrunched-up trousers on your ankles. His weight causes your ankles to pull closer together, which makes your knees pull apart and your hips to go lower. You realize then that you are stuck, unable to move your legs apart or your hips up without falling back. 
Ghost smiles when he notices you realize and pulls his hands up to rip apart your panties making you gasp at the sudden movement, feeling lightheaded with the way he rips the fabric as if it was a piece of paper. 
He doesn't let you complain any further, too desperate to launch himself at your glistering cunt. He groans at the same time you moan when he finally gets a taste of your arousal on his tongue, automatically getting addicted to your taste only urging him to eat you harder.
His hand grab your thigh at each side of his head as if you could actually move away from his face. You grab the headboard, needing to grab something for some kind of support. He has barely started to move his tongue and your legs are already shaking with the desperate way he is eating you out. 
You feel his tongue move flat from your leaking hole up to clit, the tip of his tongue catching on your hood and giving it a flick which makes your legs twitch against his head making him groan satisfied with your reaction only for him to repeat the movement again and again. 
Ghost starts to get too pussy drunk to really think about what he is doing, only caring about the taste of your fluids in contrast with the taste of your skin; and it makes you grow frustrated with the lack of attention where you really want it. This makes you need to take matters into your own hands, and you move your hand down to grab his mask hard enough that you know you are grabbing his hair under it as well. 
He looks up to you, offended you would dare to bother him when he is having the feast of his life; but the look on your face quickly shuts him up before he can say anything. “I thought you wanted me to fuck your face, sir. Stick your tongue out.” Your order, his dick twitches behind you at the dictational tone and he immediately follows your order. 
You grin down at him, satisfied with the way his body betrays him; and you grab his mask and hair harder pushing his head slightly back before you grin down on his mouth moaning throwing your head back.
You move back and forward, delighted with the way his nose catches your clit with each thrust and the way his tongue twitches with each grunt and moan that exits his throat. You turn your head to look at his crotch and chuckle when you see the way his boner is being constricted with his trousers. 
You pity him and undo his belt, getting your hand inside his trousers and grabbing his cock with only the fabric of his boxers in between his and your skin, the wet spot of precum doesn't go unnoticed. “Are you going to fuck me nicely with this, Ghostie?”
You feel him nod against your fold which makes you moan softly, but you want to give him a taste of his game and you grab hard his dick. “Speak up, leiutenant.”
He whines against your cunt, and you already know how the rest of the night is about to go. “Yes, fuck, yes, love. I’m going to fuck you so fucking nice you are not going to want to be with anyone else. I promise, love.” 
You chuckle at the desperation of his voice, and go back to grinding his face leaving his dick unnatended and leaking precum, making the wet spot on his underwear only grow wider. You grab his hand from your leg and move it behind you, sticking two fingers up and sinking yourself on them. 
Ghost feels like a human dildo with the way you are fucking his hand and mouth with no remorse for his needs, and he fucking loves it. The only thing keeping him from wishing you would last forever being the feeling of his dick about to burst. 
You keep a hand on his head, your other hand moving to grab his wrist to keep his hand just where you need it. And it doesn't take you long to cum all over his mouth, clenching tight on his fingers. He moans, almost as if he was the one who just finished, and you look down on him; the sight criminal.
You push yourself up, leaning forward, and taking his fingers out of your cunt; your arousal still dripping from them. He slips from under you, sitting on the floor and looking back at you as you finally take off your shoes and the rest of your clothes. Once naked and sitting on the bed you look at him, chuckling softly as you extend your hand to him. “Give me your belt, Ghost.”
He frowns for a second, but obeys, taking it off from the belt loops of his trousers. You take it from his hand and get closer to him putting it around his neck, buckling it at the front. You are not sure of the safety of the make-do collar, and the only reason why you do it is because the man kneeling in front of you could rip it to threads without breaking a sweat; the belt only works as a physical form of the psychological effect you have found to have over Ghost.
You lay your feet over his crotch, making him grunt when you press down; he grabs your leg unconsciously grinding against your feet making you smile. “Tell me, Ghostie. Are you going to fuck me nicely or am I going to do all the work again?” You ask, you know it is not fair, you were the one that chose to do all the work of fucking his face. Still, the way he whines when he feels the ball of your feet press harder makes it worth it. “Yes! Yes, I will. I’ll fuck you nicely, love. I will.” He moans making you groan, going on a little power trip yourself. 
You let the belt rest down his chest, taking notice just now that he is still completely naked; just his belt out of place and it only turns you on more. You turn around, getting on your knees and hands, and raise one of your hands back to him. 
He takes your hand in his, making you frown and slap his hand away. “The belt, Ghost.” He looks down when he sees you pointing at his chest as if he just realised you had collared him. He leans forward, letting the end on the belt on your hand; you twist it around your wrist tugging at it and making him lean more, kneeling behind you on the bed. His hips collide with yours making the two of you moan softly and you look at him only to whisper. “Take your dick out and fuck me until I forgive you for being such an asshole to me, lieutenant.” 
“Yes, my love” He whispers back, pulling down his trousers and underwear, only to take his thick veiny dick out, so heavy it can’t stand up; forcing him to fist it to align it with your cunt. When his tip catches with your hole, his hips pushing it the slightest, you lay your head on the mattress, arching your back and tugging the belt over your head to urge him forward getting deeper.
Ghost grunts on your ear as he does, pushing his hips forward slowly, stretching you slowly; his two fingers that you previously fucked being far from enough to stretch your cunt to the girth of his dick. 
It leaves you with your mouth open, the air of your lungs being pushed out of you as you feel his dick up to your stomach when he finally bottoms out. The two of you stay still for a second, you needing it to get used to the stretch and Ghost needing it to not cum at the feeling of your wet, warm pussy clenching on him like a vice.
He peppers your shoulder and the back of your head between moans, asking for some kind of feedback to know he can keep moving; wanting to let you get used but desperate to keep moving. You give him a slight tug of the belt, already lacking strength and moan through gritted teeth when you feel him pull back slowly and shove it back inside just as slowly.
His arms go around your middle, hugging you from the back, the weight of him on your back pushing your face harder against the mattress but loving the crushing weight of his body against you as he starts to pick up his pace. The way his dick keeps hitting against your cervix should be painful if it wasn't because of the way he keeps rubbing that spot inside of your cunt that makes your eyes roll back.
You feel him plant his feet down on the mattress, pulling his chest back; the belt slipping out of your hand feeling too limp to grab it harder. It gives Ghost the room to stand behind you, grabbing your hips to anchor himself to you, and the moment he starts to actually thrust into you, you know you are done for. He quickly finds your soft spot, hitting it not stop with the tip of his dick making your toes curl and his heavy balls begging for a release hitting your clit with each thrust. 
Your second orgasm of the night feels like hanging from a rope and it suddenly snapping, you moan his name like a whore, your cunt clenching down so hard it pushes him out as you gush over his lap. Your hips convulsing, unable to remain still because of the force of the orgasm.
Simon groans pulling back to see your pussy clench around nothing as you cum, not able to say anything with the way all his blood is on his dick, his brain unable to form a whole thought further away than to get back inside your warm cavern.
He turns you around, leaving you lying on your back as you look at him astonished. He grabs your ankles, pushing them down beside your head bending you in half at the same time he gets his dick back inside of you moaning and making you whine at the new angle he is hitting. 
“Grab the belt, love.” He reminds you, to fuck out to feel cocky about you forgetting it. You quickly grab the belt hanging loosely around his neck, giving it a tug pushing him forward and kissing him messily. Your first kiss with Ghost and you have already come twice and are close to a third time. 
Ghost moans against your mouth, teeth clashing against each other with the force he leans forward. You struggle to keep kissing him with the way he is fucking you, thrusting like an animal, hitting deeper than anybody else ever has, clutching the belt more for your own support than to tug at him. 
You tug it down, making him push his face against your neck and leaving your ankles resting over his broad shoulders. You feel him suck the skin of your neck, knowing perfectly fine that he is going to leave a mark and it only fuels you to scratch at his back, making sure you leave the same marks back. 
His thrust starts to grow sloppier and his moans whinier. You pull your hand down, touching your clit to cum before he finishes it, and he takes it like an insult that gives him a new run of energy, enough to start to thrust hard and deep again, his thumb replacing your hand in playing with your clit. 
You throw your head back when you finish for a third time in the time and Ghost bites down on your leg on his shoulder, moaning against it when he finally spills over inside of you making you shudder. 
The two of you stay still for a minute, getting your breath back from the strain. Your legs start to cramp and you lightly tap his shoulder for him to get up. He does, groaning when he pulls out and after another second he goes to the bathroom. He comes back with a damp towel to clean you up quickly and throws it on the floor, lying down and pulling you against his chest as he does.
“Lovie?”
“Hm?”
“If this is the outcome of being a dickhead to you… I take back the apology.”
You slap his chest chuckling. You'll think about the feelings and emotional part of today's acts tomorrow, right now, you are too exhausted to think. And Ghost agrees, because before you can even fall asleep you hear him softly snore beside you, hugging you tightly as he sleeps.
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The next morning, when the whole team is having breakfast, there is this awkward silence around everyone. Everybody knows Ghost and you fucked last night, both because your room is between Price's and Soap's but also because of the love bites on your neck and belt mark on his.
Fraternization is not something the military looks forward to, but the both of you are adults and you are not technically a member of the team. So Price can't say anything about it. Soap, on the other hand, always has something to say.
“So… I didn't know you had condoms on your room, bonnie. I would have stolen some if I knew you did.”
“I don't have condoms in my room, Soap.” You sigh.
“So, the Lt came prepared yesterday to my room. That's positivity, sir.” He jokes.
“Johnny, cut it out.” Ghost simply says.
Soap looks between the two of you before a grin appears on his face. 
“Wait… wait, wait, wait. You didn't hit it raw, right?” Gaz asks, and when neither of you responds he knows; laughing harder.
“So you are telling me, that you did it raw, with you ovulating and with you being pent up for the last month.” Soap asks, laughing as he does.
You look up at Ghost, reality sinking in and blaming your fucking hormonal brain too horny to think about the most basic stuff.
“That's fine, guys. I always wanted a nephew… or a niece.”
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And with this, ladies and gentlemen, we come to an end. 💗
I guess we could call it a mini-series, but honestly just because I uploaded it in different parts, I'll probably uploaded to AO3 as a single part if you prefer to read it like that. On my masterlist is the link to my AO3, but you can find me as Lovifie.
I hope you enjoyed a bit more subby Ghostie, and that it wasn't a jump scare.
And to the person who sent me an ask, I'm working on it and I'll upload it soon. 💗
As always, I hope that you guys enjoyed if you did make sure to drop a comment or a message as I love to read you guys. 💗
Also, I may have written a bit something of Dark Gaz this morning, like, quite an asshole, manipulative, selfish Gaz. Let me know if you'll like to read it. 🩷
Taglist: @loveableidioticweirdo @restrictionsapply @cursedforlife @shadowtfpcod @pagesfalling @aelnpruz @dumb12bvtch1212 @risingofjupiter @dukeofjjune @imjustheretofightforlove @becky2021 @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @thatonepupkai @glocuseguardian3rd @soupinasock @arbesa-mind @dilara-del @multifandomheathenannie @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @lunari0 @cmbghost @spadekip
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eddiesbug · 2 years
Note
eddie munson x reader where the reader hasn’t had their first kiss yet and during one of the nights the two of them are high in his trailer, the reader blurts it out and eddie’s just like “you wanna try?” 🫣
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i’m actually pretty proud of this so idk i might extend it at some point!!
warnings: fem!reader, steamy but no smut, literally just making out lol
“Ha-have you ever kissed anyone?” you hiccup, hanging off of Eddie’s bed. Your eyes are red and Eddie’s gentle fingers reach out to stroke your head. His technique resembles the way in which one would pet a dog - a little rough with short movements, constantly changing in direction and speed - but you seem to enjoy the affection regardless. He’s right side up on the floor to your upside down, and your fingers grasp his chin, pinching, squeezing and then travelling away and tracing his features in bewilderment.
“Yeah,” he says, the upward intonation at the end of his word making him sound like he’s asking a question rather than answering one. He ducks his head forward to rest in the juncture of your neck. His breath is hot on your skin and you squirm.
“I haven’t.”
“Ever?” His eyebrows raise, or lower from your perspective, and you giggle. He cocks his head curiously at your amused expression.
“You’re upside down.”
“No, sweetheart, you’re upside down.”
“Oh yeah,” you laugh, twirling a strand of his hair round your finger. “You’re pretty.”
“Thanks, princess.” He grabs your shoulders, hauling you upright and into his lap on the scratchy carpet. “So… you’ve never kissed anyone?”
“Nope.”
“You wanna try kissing me?” Your hand freezes on its journey to Eddie’s soft locks and you tilt your head, lips pursed.
“Are you fucking with me? ‘Cos that’s not very funny, Eds.”
“I’m not, honest.” He crosses his heart with a finger. “Jus’ figured… if you wanna get your first kiss out of the way, you could do it with me.”
“Okay.” His eyes widen comically, surprised though he himself brought the suggestion up. “I trust you. And I like you. A lot.”
“You like me?” His voice drips with bemusement.
“Yeah,” your singsong voice chimes, “Like you like you.”
His lips are on yours after that confession alone. He’s hungry, lips mashing against your own in a way that lacks technique but not enthusiasm. He cups your cheeks and jaw in his hands, the bite of his cold rings on your skin pushing a gasp out of your mouth and into his. He pauses his assault only to mutter praises and sweet words against your swollen lips.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful. So good, sweetheart. So fucking pretty. Gonna keep you all to myself.”
Once he’s gotten over the initial fervour of kissing you, his movements slow and deepen, pulling a groan from your chest. He takes a mental note of everything you like and things you like less.
“Eddie,” you murmur, forcing yourself closer to him although there’s limited room. He shushes softly, threading skilled fingers through your hair before surprising you and tugging ever so slightly. You whimper, practically mauling him with tongue and teeth and ravenous hands. He smiles into your mouth, your hair firmly wrapped around his hand.
“Goooood girl,” he mumbles over and over, kissing the corner of your mouth and then moving to your neck. He sucks bruises into the untouched skin, searching for the spot that makes you keen. You buckle against him, gasping. “There y’are. Couldn’t’ve told me you liked me sooner, hm? Shit, I’ve liked you since the second grade.”
“Fuck, Eddie!”
He straightens again to take your lips in his, a series of gentle pecks before he peels himself away from you. You whine.
“How was that?” he asks cheekily, taking great pride and enjoyment in your disheveled appearance. You surprise him by worming your way into his arms.
“Can we do it again?”
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enkas-illusion · 3 months
Text
The Worst Kept Secret
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Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Toji Fushiguro x f!reader
Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Genre/Theme: Co-workers to lovers; non-sorcery au
Content warning: fluff but not too much, smut, oral (f & m receiving), piv sex, dom!Toji, sub!reader, overstimulation, unprotected sex, explicit sexual content, language, Toji has a filthy mouth.
Summary: Your colleague Toji only has eyes for you, despite having a reputation of sorts. Porn with a plot… or more like a build up.
Author's Note: Co-worker Toji is instantly attractive cause a) he’s not a bum and b) he’s Toji-fucking-Fushiguro – that’s all in my defence, your honour! This shit is nasty… no, I won’t explain myself (I'm pretty sure i was possessed while writing this). 
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one shot, please write to me and let me know your thoughts. I love reading whenever people have elaborate things to say T.T Thank you for reading! 
-Eren’s Birdie
Song Dedication: Talk by Hozier
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“Rat!” you exclaim as you hold your phone up to display the word written boldly on the screen.
“Ummm…. It’s not a rat, it's not a patootie, it’s a ratatouille!” your coworker, Lisa, blurts out excitedly.
You both look at each other, trying your best to control before you burst out laughing. This goes on for about a minute till your bellies hurt and you’re wheezing. You quiet down as you wipe the tears forming in the corner of your eyes. 
“Why don’t I know that one?” your other coworker, Ema, mutters with furrowed eyebrows, confused at what could possibly be so funny about the sentence.
You’re too drunk to realise that sober you would not find it as funny as you do right now. But that’s what happens when you party a little too hard with your coworkers on a work trip and then hang around the hotel bar because nobody wants to go to bed even at 3am.
You look around at the handful of your coworkers, randomly occupying different spots at the bar, all too dazed and into their own conversations to pay attention to the stupid game that the three of you were currently playing – A word game your genius minds had developed, using a random word generator app and use it in a meme-able sentence.
“Oh god… next word. Feminism!” Lisa squeals, snatching your phone from you to generate the word for your turn.
“Fuck… I suddenly can’t think of anything,” you admit and giggle, trying hard to work your brain.
“Seriously…” 
“Wait, Wait… I need a few seconds,” you laugh, trying to save yourself. You look around and your eyes land on your office crush, Toji Fushiguro, sitting at the bar with your boss, Kento Nanami. 
You look back to your group with a determined look in your eyes, ready with your sentence. “I want him to do things to me that feminism wouldn’t agree with,” you giggle like a teenager, “hah! I’m a genius.”
However, your friends have fixated on something else entirely, ignoring your perfect answer, since their eyes follow your line of vision to the bar. “So, what’s the scene?” Ema looks back at you.
“It's your turn, next word–”
“Nah, we’re bored… this is far more interesting,” her eyebrows wiggle, as she scoots closer to you on the sofa. By the looks of it, Lisa has also forgotten about the game in a second. You realise you’ve dug this hole for yourself, yet you don’t mind sharing a drunk confession with your friends.
“Let’s head out for a smoke,” you get up from the sofa. Lisa is quick to grab her purse as both your friends spring up, hurrying to happily follow you out onto the secluded porch outside, ready for gossip.
As you light up your cigarette, Ema looks at you expectantly. Looking at her face makes you snort and you cough out the smoke before speaking, “Have some patience! Besides, there's nothing too juicy about this gossip.”
“Pleaseeee, literally everyone saw the way Toji was glaring at the man who asked you for a dance tonight… not gonna lie, he looked kinda hot when he got mad,” Lisa catches your lie as she fawns over Toji, something that has become a regular thing among the female coworkers at the company. 
“I know right? And I said no to the guy! What was he so pissed about anyway?” you protest.
“It's all because you agreed when the dude was like ‘at least let me buy you a drink sweetie’!” Ema imitates the stranger from the bar from hours ago.
“Hey! Who says no to free drinks?” you defend yourself.
“Okay, fair,” Lisa nods her head before realising, “aye, focus on the matter at hand! Why did you say no to the guy? He was cute.”
“Was he really though?” you retort.
“Yeah, like you’d notice anyone else when Toji's around… Please fuck him, I need some office drama!” Lisa snaps back before taking a long drag from her cigarette. 
“Yea right… I’m serious though,” you ponder between slow drags, “I doubt anything is going to happen between Toji and I.”
“Why not?!” Ema whines and you laugh at how it seems like they’re more desperate about this whole thing than you are.
“Need I remind you I literally just got out of a relationship? This is no time to be having stupid crushes. I need some alone time… besides you know how his reputation is. Sure, he flirts with me and I enjoy it a lot but I don't know,” you explain as if it’s an automated response stored in you.
“So what? Then just fuck him and get it over with. They say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone!” Lisa giggles, “Besidesss, I've heard he’s really good in bed… heard it from a mutual– uhhh, I don't really remember her name.”
“Oh wait, shit I remember that!” Ema squeals, almost dropping the cigarette from her hand in excitement, “But didn’t she also say that he basically ghosted her after? He just fucks around, I guess.”
“Hence the reputation… Men like Toji are the most charming kind. They know exactly what to say to get you to sleep with them but disappear when it comes to commitment,” Lisa ponders, staring into the distance.
“Exactly, everyone says that Toji doesn’t do relationships. And as horny and curious as I might be, I don’t just want us to fuck and leave it at that. It’d be way too awkward to have such a dynamic at the workplace,” you reason and they simply nod. There’s a beat of silence as all three of you smoke quietly.
“Still though… would it be so bad to just give it a shot? Simply see it as a one night stand and get it over with? If he’s that indifferent about it, I doubt it’d be awkward at work,” Lisa presses.
“I know right! I dont get why you’re thinking so much about it. At least the sex would be killer even if nothing else is assured,” Ema advises.
You take another big drag before dropping the bud to the ground and crushing it with your heel, “Hmmm… that’s true, I’ll think about it.”
“Think soon and try to seduce him in the three days we have here!” Lisa squeezes your shoulder encouragingly. 
“Yes! If you don’t want to, please allow me to! He looked so delicious yesterday,” Ema sighs and by the look on her face, you can tell she’s probably recalling memories of a shirtless Toji playing volleyball at the beach from yesterday. 
“Be my guest… but do it tomorrow, you’ve had a lot to drink tonight,” you snort.
“Please, drunk or sober, if there is one hook up I wouldn’t regret, it’d be him… after our boss of course,” Ema confesses.
“Yeah right. Either of us could still have a shot with Kento. Toji only flirts back with you,” Lisa looks at you with narrowed eyes.
You laugh before a sudden chill runs down your spine, and you cuss at the feeling, “Motherfucker– Should’ve gotten a coat. It's getting cold.”
Your coworkers eye each other mischievously before Lisa snickers, “Why don’t you ask loverboy to help you with it instead? That way you’d be warm inside out.”
“Oh yeah, great idea! Let me go back inside to find him–” you cut off when you see a figure walking outside towards your group.
You signal Ema, who has her back turned to the encroaching new presence, to shut up but it's too late as she fake moans, “Exactly… I’m sure he’d love to indulge you, he’d basically been eye-banging you all night, harder Toji, fuck yea–” 
“HEY TOJI! What’s up!” you’re basically shouting at the guy when he’s a few feet away, hoping to cover up and save yourself.
Maybe he senses your embarrassment, or maybe he didn’t hear her (hopefully) but he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead he greets the group and there’s an awfully awkward feeling in the air.
“Ladies,” he speaks coolly as he stands next to you, “Glad I found you here since boss man was looking for you two.” 
“Kento?!” Ema’s ears shoot up at his sentence as she exchanges a grin with Lisa. They rush ahead inside and as you are about to follow them, you feel a hand on your wrist holding you back. You turn to look at him with a confused frown.
“Where do you think you’re going? I was just getting rid of the two of them,” he smirks, making you look at his pillowy lips. 
When he catches you staring, you look down quickly, tugging a strand of your hair behind your ear nervously, “Oh… So, Kento wasn’t really looking for them?”
“Nope.”
“Oh… that’s– they’re gonna be disappointed,” you chuckle lightly as you fidget with your phone’s cover.
“Well, sucks for them, I guess,” he holds two fingers under your chin to make you look up at him, “You look pretty… you usually do, but even more so in that tiny dress.”
Your eyes grow wide at his confession as you feel the heat rush to your cheeks and you mutter a quiet ‘thank you’. You move to the front of the porch as you stare out at the vast night sky, partly to avoid feeling so mushy and partly because you feel the alcohol toying with your nerves. 
Another chill rushes down your spine and you’re pretty sure it makes you shiver visibly. As you mutter a quiet ‘fuck’, you feel him wrap his denim jacket around your shoulders. Your eyes widen at him in surprise.
“What? I’m a gentleman,” he teases, standing closer next to you. You laugh at this, turning to face him as you shake your head.
“Sure… a gentleman with a reputation,” you roll your eyes as you wrap your arms around your torso in an attempt to keep yourself warm. What you don’t realise is that this action further pushes your boobs together, causing Toji’s eyes to wander down briefly before he looks back into your eyes again.
“Aren’t you ever curious to know if I live up to that reputation?” he raises an eyebrow as he leans down closer to your face.
“Hmm, sure… if you were a stranger at a club and not someone who I had to see at work 9 hours a day, 5 days a week,” you roll your eyes at him as you bring up one hand to slowly run a finger down his shoulder to the outline of his bicep.
“Well, we see each other everyday anyway, so why not turn it into something we actively look forward to,” his fingers graze your jawline softly while his eyes shamelessly fixate on the dip of your cleavage, giving him a better view from the way he’s towering over you.
“As tempting as that is… I don’t do one night stands Toji–”
“Who said anything about just one night?” he interrupts and you tilt your head to the side in confusion, “I’m not stupid to approach someone I work with if I was simply looking for a quick fuck.”
“Oh… then please tell me what exactly you’re looking for?” you speak softly but it comes out more arrogantly than you’d like.
“You. I intend to fuck you more than once.” he’s direct yet his calm demeanour never wavers. 
You let out a nervous chuckle, “Look Toji… you’re hot, charming and oddly easy to get along with but I just got out of a relationship, it’s barely been two months–”
“I know… his loss for letting such a sweet thing go. Didn’t he initiate the break up? What a loser,” Toji laughs as his hand cups your face. 
You simply stare at him in bewilderment, you had no idea the news of your breakup had travelled even to the non-gossipers.
“Why me?” you ask, your curiosity getting the best of you.
“For starters, you’re hot. Two, I like it when we hang out outside of work, you put me at ease with your conversations. Three, I haven’t been able to hook up with anyone else for about a month since I found out about your ex… such a pretty girl should be cherished the way she deserves to be,” his fingers slide down to your collarbone, threatening to dip down even lower.
“Hmm… that’s a good enough pitch, so you want us to be fuck buddies? Exclusively?” you play with the collar of his shirt, entertaining the idea.
“Yeah, I’m not one to share,” his other hand comes up to brush his thumb against your bottom lip.
“Nothing serious?” you pout at him with fake disappointment.
“Not until the both of us feel like it,” he dips his thumb inside your mouth while his other hand snaked around your waist. You suck on his thumb as you stare into his eyes and he feels his blood rush straight to his cock.
“I can work with that,” you give him an innocent smile, “But let’s not be too obvious about it, I’d hate for our little arrangement to mess with our work life.”
“Perfect,” he smiles as he cups your jaw, staring at your lips while sliding his tongue over his lips to wet them instinctively.
Just as he’s about to lean down to kiss you, you pull back when you hear distant footsteps approaching. You see your two friends walking back towards you, talking among themselves.
“Hey, we couldn’t find Kento at the bar,” Ema mumbles.
“Really? He must’ve gone back to his room. Maybe ask him about it tomorrow,” Toji speaks innocently and you press your lips together to keep yourself from laughing.
You see Ema eyeing the jacket you’re wearing suspiciously and you suddenly take it off to hand it to Toji.
“Keep it. You’ll get cold again… return it tomorrow morning.” Toji speaks before you have a chance to give it back to him. You nod as you hold it closer to your chest.
“Alright then. Good night ladies,” he smiles politely before walking back inside. When your eyes shift from his diminishing silhouette to your two friends, they’re both staring at you with hopeful eyes.
“Nothing happened!” you exclaim and their faces drop.
“Fine, that’s it! I’m calling dibs, I’m gonna flirt with him,” Ema retorts. You simply chuckle and shrug, diverting your attention to your phone when it vibrates in your hand. You look at the notification and it’s a text from Toji.
Toji (Work):
Room no. 9010
Don’t leave me hanging, pretty
You lock your phone quickly as you look up again to force yourself to focus on the conversation.
“Could you not get the bottle from the cute bartender? We could’ve taken it to the room,” Ema sighs.
“No but I gave him my room number soooo…” Lisa giggles.
“Guys, I’m feeling a bit too drunk and tired to continue so I’m just gonna go to my room and sleep, okay?” you make up an excuse, hoping it seems believable. However, the girls are too drunk to analyse your lies and they simply pout and bid you ‘goodnight’ in a singsong voice, giving you a group hug.
You quickly make your way to the elevator and press the button to the ninth floor. And although you’re wearing his jacket again, you still feel your body shiver. You take a deep breath when you hear a ding, signalling your arrival. You walk out into the long passage quietly, skimming over the numbers till you spot his room, your heart feeling like it's about to fall out of your chest due to the thrill.
You knock on the door twice and fix your hair nervously. When no one answers, you unlock your phone to call him. You almost let out a scream when you hear the door unlock and he pulls you inside, catching you by surprise and making you stumble.
Before you have a chance to speak, Toji slams the door shut behind you, pushing your body against it before kissing you hungrily. You place your hands on his chest, creasing the fabric as you pull at it, humming into the kiss when his tongue shoves into your mouth. You close your eyes, the fluttering in your stomach making its way down to your core as his tongue plays with yours, making wet smooching sounds in the otherwise quiet room.
“I think you’ve misunderstood this. I’m simply here to return your jacket,” you tease, huffing as you catch your breath when your lips part. He smirks as he slides the jacket off your body till it pools near your feet before caging you against his body with his arms locking around your waist.
“Of course, this is me simply thanking you for returning it,” he moves one hand lower till it’s massaging the flesh of your thigh just below where the fabric of your dress ends.
“Oh, you’re welcome,” you give him another innocent smile as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull his head down for another kiss. 
His hands lift up your dress to your stomach before going back down to squeeze your ass. He deepens the kiss as he towers over you, making you arch your back, causing you to hook your arms around him to keep your balance.
When you break the kiss for another shallow breath, he moves to your jaw, biting and pulling your skin with his teeth as he makes his way down to your neck. You tilt your head to give him more access, letting out soft sighs as he leaves sloppy kisses all over the expanse of your neck.
While his left hand hooks around your waist to keep you steady, he brings his right hand over to your mound, pressing the sticky lace of your thong into your folds. When he feels how wet you are, he groans against your skin, biting it again.
He rubs over the fabric again and you moan out of frustration, he's so close yet there's a tiny barrier between. You try to grind against his hand, whining when he pulls away.
He gets down on his knees before you can complain and lifts your right leg over his shoulder, securing it in place. You lean your whole weight against the door, feeling like you'd fall if you didn’t have something solid to hold onto, so your hands make their way down to tug at his hair.
Toji hooks two fingers into the lace, pulling the fabric to the side to expose your puffy folds to him. He slowly slides two fingers over to separate them, your wetness coating the tips of his fingers immediately. 
“Knew you had a pretty cunt,” he murmurs as his eyes remain fixed on the way his fingers are working you. You let out a breathy moan, tightening your grip on his hair.
He brings his face closer to your core, peppering the entire area with soft kisses. You thrust forward into his face but it only makes him slap the inside of your right thigh harshly.
“Toji… please, stop teasin– ngh,” you plead but your words get caught in your throat when he licks a stripe up your cunt like it's a melting ice cream. He darts his tongue out to wiggle it over your clit and your legs feel as if they're about to snap and go limp.
“Toji– wait… I n-need to take off my heels,” you huff.
“No. They stay on,” is all he says before sliding two fingers into your hole with ease, and at the same time getting back to making out with your clit.
“Fuck– Toji please– ah,” your straight knee buckles forward as you yank at his hair some more to steady yourself. You let out an involuntary yelp when he lifts your other leg over his shoulder as well, burying his face into your pussy, hooking both his arms around your thighs. While this angle hits better, you feel a different kind of thrill about completely having given up control and trusting him not to drop you to the floor.
As you lean your head against the door, your hips rut further into his face and Toji doesn’t relent even for a second. As you hook your feet behind his neck, he brings his right hand down to your hole again, pushing three fingers in this time, meeting with a bit of resistance. The squelching sound of his fingers fucking your hole mixes with the sound of his lips sucking your clit.
“Feel s-so good,” you pant as your thighs twitch around his face. You shaky hands run through his hair weakly as you try to steady your ragged breathing. Each time Toji hits the right spot inside your walls, you moan out praises and encouragement for him to keep going.
He curls his fingers as he picks up the pace and it's brutal. You hold his hair so tight that you hear him hiss momentary before getting back to fucking you with his tongue.
You close your eyes shut as your hip involuntary thrusts forward, twitching uncontrollably as you come all over his fingers. You bite your tongue to control your moans, turning them into muffled whimpers instead. He pulls his hand out to hook it back around your thigh as his tongue starts lapping at your juices to lick you clean.
“Ngh– Toji, too much!” You squeal as you try to move your hips away from his touch but it causes him to poke his tongue out further over your sensitive skin.
“God– please, baby I can’t take it anymore,” you cry as your body jerks violently again. You hear him chuckle before kissing your clit one last time and pulling your legs off his shoulders and standing up again.
When you land on your feet, you're glad he’s holding your waist to keep you from crashing to the ground. He kisses you on your lips and you taste yourself on his tongue. It's enough to take your already intoxicated mind to a new level of high.
He slowly lets you go before stepping back to create distance as he hurriedly takes off his clothes and your eyes widen when you see the way his erect dick hangs low and heavy.
He grabs a condom from his wallet, tearing off the cover before sliding the rubber over his hung cock smoothly. The smug smile on his face grows wider when your eyes peel away from his dick to meet his gaze. You stare at him with a look of astonishment mixed with nervousness. 
“Toji… you're–” you whisper silently. Toji is blessed to say the least.
“It's okay, don't be scared, pretty. I'll make it fit perfectly,” he cooes as he closes the distance between your bodies.
You gulp when he pressed his hands on either side of you, caging you against the door. As he's kissing your shoulder, his hands move to your back to undo your zip. He struggles a bit, fiddling with the zip of your dress and you’re pretty sure you hear a rip when he grows impatient, tugging at the fabric harshly.
“Did you jus–”
“Shh… later,” he blurts out, not giving you a chance to complain as he pulls the dress down your body, unhooking your bra to yank it down. He quickly takes off your thong as well, leaving you exposed as you stand in front of him in only your heels.
“So much better than what I had imagined,” he stares at your naked figure hungrily and you pull him closer to kiss him once again, already missing the way his lips feel.
You wrap your hands around his torso to feel his muscular back with your fingers, growing wetter at how huge his body feels compared to yours. He pulls away to lean down, latching his mouth onto one of your nipples. 
You let out a satisfied hum and he repeats the action on your other nipple. Your eyebrows furrow as your back arches at the sensation and you weakly claw at his pecs.
“Fuck– I can't wait any longer… Just let me know if it hurts too much,” he groans as he scoots you up off the floor completely, hooking your knees over his elbows, opening you up wider as he readjusts his pelvis under you.
You bring a hand down to guide his tip to your entrance, sucking in a deep breath as you look down, anticipating his movement as he begins pushing his dick inside you. 
With your legs spread apart firmly, he presses his hips up, almost losing his shit at how tight you feel. You bring both of your hands up to hug them around his neck. You steady yourself, resting your cheek onto his shoulder briefly when you feel his movement come to a halt. You feel so full, there's a delicious ache in your lower belly.
“Shit– I'm gonna move now, okay?” he grunts. You simply nod your head as he grabs you by your sides to push your lower body away till only his tip is inside before pulling you in closer to fill you up again.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head while your mouth hangs open when Toji begins to slam you onto his hard length, repeating the motion over and over again as you let out broken cries of his name. When he picks up speed, your pussy flutters at the abnormal feeling, causing him to pounce into you harder.
“Oh god– nghh– Toji!” You cry into the crook of his neck.
“Mmh– look at me, let me see that pretty face,” he orders breathily. You pull away from his neck reluctantly, eyebrows still knitted as your lips stay fixed in a silent O shape.
“Look at how well you take my cock… ‘ts a perfect fit,” he hisses when your pussy squeezes him again at his words. You'd always thought that Toji would be the silent type, just like he was at the office, but seeing him spew such vile praises just adds more to the intensity of it all.
“Fuck– Toj–” you whimper as you rest your forehead against his.
‘Hmm? Yes, pretty? Cock got your tongue?” He laughs but it's strained. You tilt your head to kiss him on the lips and he shoves his tongue into your mouth to kiss you back hungrily. You moan into the kiss when he thrusts harder. In a swift motion he pulls away from the kiss, dropping your legs to the ground as he pulls out of you to turn you around.
He pulls your hips back to meet his, while pushing your face flush against the door to arch your back for him. He slides back into your hole in an instant, rutting into you from behind. Your hands press against the surface of the door while he grips onto your hips tighter to keep them from jerking forward due to the force.
You bring your left hand down to rub your clit, the pressure building up further as you get closer to your release. Toji leans forward to press his chest against your back, hooking his hand down to swat yours away. Instead, he replaces it with his fingers to toy with your clit and it feels so much better than your own dainty ones.
When your legs start to shiver as the pressure in your stomach builds up, Toji brings his other hand to intertwine his fingers with yours, pushing your chest further into the door.
With the way you're screaming his name, you're pretty sure anyone passing by outside can hear you. You wonder if that's the reason he's doing it, to show people just how good he's fucking you.
“Toji fuck– I'm coming– fuck!” You cry as your legs shake as you cum hard, threatening to give out, not being able to hold your weight. Despite wanting to finish himself, obsessed over how your pussy is sucking him in, he knows it'll be a bit too much for you to handle at the moment. So, he slows down as he secures one hand around your waist before pulling out completely. 
He turns you around till you're facing him, taking deep breaths to calm your breathing. He bends down to swing your body over his shoulder with ease as if you weigh nothing at all. He walks over to the bed before slamming you back down onto the soft mattress. 
He gives you another cocky smile, proud of how deliciously fucked you look. You recognize this look and just as he's about to lean forward to make his way to you on the mattress, you place one foot onto his chest as the heel digs into his skin.
“Time out… you’re too much,” you sigh and he lets out a snort.
“Better get used to it,” he smiles as he brings his hands up to take off your stiletto, tossing it on the floor before bringing your other leg up to take off the other pair. 
He holds both your feet firmly, pushing them into your torso till you're practically folded in half as he brings one hand down to rub your swollen clit.
“No,” you turn to the side to get out of the position before sitting up straight, looking at his still erect cock in front of you. You lean closer to him as your hand wraps around the length, “Let me make you feel good.”
You roll the condom down before discarding it to the side, leaning forward to kiss his tip, swirling your tongue around the angry swollen head before licking a strip up his shaft. When you open your mouth wide, he grabs his length to tap it on your tongue a few times before you wrap your lips around the thick head. You make eye contact with him as you take in more of him, letting your mouth adjust to his size slowly. He mutters a quiet ‘fuck’ while grabbing the back of your head to push it closer. You gag before you can even take his entire length in your mouth, tears slipping out the corners of your eyes.
“Yes, right there… such a pretty mouth. Come on, I know you can take some– ugh— more,” he grunts and you relax your mouth to deep-throat him.
As Toji lets out breathy cusses, you move a hand down to massage his balls. Your other hand moves between your legs to part your folds and rub soft circles. This doesn’t go unnoticed by the man and you see a mischievous smile creep up on his face.
“Let go, babe,” he smiles while firmly pulling at your hair. You move your head back and you can already feel your throat aching as it readjusts to the emptiness. You’re still stimulating his tip with kitten licks, lapping at the precum, all the while touching yourself desperately.
Toji grabs both of your wrists as he pushes you back up on the bed, climbing up before lying on his back. As you await his instructions, you’re confused when he signals you to sit on his face. You hesitantly straddle his chest but it all makes sense when he tells you to turn around. You giggle as the heat rushes to your cheeks as you lie face-down on top of him to sixty-nine him.
“Now, stop being so greedy and focus on sucking my dick,” he speaks as he pulls at your asscheeks to part them, parting your folds with his tongue. Your toes curl in as you lean down to take him in your mouth once again.
As you bob your head up and down, sucking his entire length, his groans vibrate against your pussy as he eats you out just as fervently.
You steady your hands on his thighs as the muscles flex and relax every time his tip kisses the back of your throat. You close your eyes to focus on your movement as it gets harder and harder with Toji slurping at your pussy ruthlessly.
When you bring your hands over to play with his balls, it has him unravelling quickly. After edging himself unintentionally the whole night, he can’t help but feel like this is the tipping point.
“Do you– mmh– mind swallowing?” His voice is strained. You shake your head no, not parting from his cock even for a second. His nails dig into the flesh of your ass as thoughts of you flood his mind.
He can’t help but feel his pride swell that he's the one who gets to ravage his seemingly innocent co-worker like this. As if it weren’t already hard enough, imagining the things he’d do to you when he saw you at the office – now he had actual memories in flesh to make it harder.
Two months ago, he wouldn’t have imagined you'd be going dumb over his dick this way. Your interactions had always been respectful, despite him flirting with you occasionally. It was only about a month ago that you took him by surprise when you give a witty reply,  flirting back with him.
Toji knew a thing or two about breakups, so when he subtly inquired and eavesdropped in conversations around the office, he heard your loudmouth friend talk about how sad it was that your ex had the audacity to dump you when you clearly were out of his league.
Sad indeed, Toji thought, wanting nothing more than to finally get to fuck his pretty colleague. But when you both were assigned on a project together about three weeks ago, the flirting had gotten out of hand and your talks were no longer just a few words exchanged out of courtesy. Toji knew he wasn't made for relationships but a part of him wanted to make you his and greedily keep you to him.
As he enjoys the way you’re sucking his dick with your pretty pussy fluttering under his touch, his desire to have you has only grown stronger.
He leans his head back when he feels himself shoot his load into your mouth, his dick twitching as he feels you lick and struggle to swallow him.
“Fucking hell–” he sighs, kneading the flesh of your ass lazily. When he feels the weight of your body lift up, he grabs your waist to pull your ass back to hover it over his face.
“Where do you think you're going?” He huffs and before you can answer, he's eating you out at a faster pace than before. You already feel overstimulated as is but when Toji pushes two fingers inside, it turns you into a blabbering mess.
You arch your back as you lean forward with your fingers denting the skin over his abdomen. You grind your hips to feel his tongue on your cunt. Your head hangs limply when you cum once again on his tongue and Toji continues to slurp at your juices.
You body twitches violently and you beg him to slow down. He chuckles as he licks you clean before placing a quick kiss over your folds, relaxing his grip to let you get off.
You roll over to the side till you're lying on your back, your chest heaving as you take deep breaths. You look down when you feel a hand on your shin. He smiles lazily at you as he caresses your skin. You smile back before closing your eyes to relax, but open them back again when you feel the mattress dip as the figure beside you shifts.
You find Toji caging you with his arms on either side of your head as he leans down to kiss your lips. You close your eyes, humming into the kiss. He dips his head down to give you another mark on your neck, bringing one hand down to play with your nipples.
“Let me rest!” you push his chest but it doesn't faze him at all.
“Okay fine,” he laughs, “I'm only going easy on you cause it's our first time.”
“Easy? You really live up to your reputation,” you stare at him in disbelief. This makes him laugh and it’s the first time you hear his real laughter and not the smug, cocky chuckles of usual. You grin when you feel a warm fuzzy feeling in your heart, maybe Toji Fushiguro has more to him than he lets on.
He creates some space between you when he gets off and before you can ask him what he's doing, he lifts you up in his arms to carry you to the bathroom. 
When he sits you down on the sink counter to run the hot water tap to fill up the tub, you giggle.
“What?” He walks back to you.
“Nothing… just… Now, I get why women apparently call you unforgettable,” you mumble, trying hard not to blush.
“I don't do this for them,” he shrugs. You roll your eyes at him, not believing his words.
He chuckles, “I'm serious! I don’t fuck around… much. It's not a communal dick.”
“Oh really? What have I done to deserve such special treatment?” You tease.
“If I want to keep seeing you, I have to make you want to see me again too,” he smiles, leaning closer till he’s standing between your parted legs, brushing a finger over your lips.
“I think you guaranteed that right after you made me come the first time,” you laugh.
“That easy? Why's that?”
You shake your head no and he raises an eyebrow, urging you to speak.
“Well… if you must know, I rarely came with my ex. He said he got tired quickly so often I'd finish myself off in the shower later,” you confess, feeling a bit embarrassed at admitting this to him.
“Damn. What a fucking loser,” Toji chuckles dryly as he lazily rubs soft circles on your inner thighs, “Well, I'm glad he sucked. It really was time for an upgrade.”
You laugh as you play with the hair on his nape. You wonder out loud, “Have you ever thought about anyone else from the office?”
“Like who? You’re the only one there who I’d get blue balls for,” he laughs.
“Seriously? Not even Ema or Lisa? They’re pretty hot,” you push.
“Not my type.”
“Hmm”
“Why do you ask?”
“Nothing… just…”
“They’re painfully obvious about their crush if that’s what you’re asking,” he lets out another dry chuckle as he brushes your loose strands to the side, “Well they won't bother from tomorrow.”
“Why's that?” your eyebrows furrow.
“Unless you have a top that covers your entire neck, they’re going to figure shit out instantly,” he smirks as he traces the light red/purple bruises on your neck. You twist to the side to look at your reflection in the mirror.
Your eyes widen as you gasp, “Toji! How am I going to cover these?”
“Maybe don't... it doesn’t matter if they find out– maybe that way the gossip will reach your loser ex and he’ll know just how well I take care of you,” he teases, nuzzling his nose into your neck.
“God, you’re obsessed,” you giggle as you slap his chest lightly.
“Hmm, maybe. Told you I'm not one to share… especially not when your pussy tastes so good,” he kisses down your body till his face is in front of your core again. 
“I never said yes to our little arrangement… I can always back out,” you tease but your breath hitches when he presses his tongue to your core once again.
“Hmm, maybe I need to try my best to convince you then,” he nibbles and you instinctively tangle your fingers into his hair, closing your eyes as you enjoy the way Toji fucks you with his tongue once again.
“Toji… the bathtub,” you sigh when you hear the water overflow. Toji pulls away, holding his hand out and pulling you to the bathtub. Once in, he closes the tap and turns you around till your back is flush against his chest. He kisses your shoulder from behind when you're nestled against his broad torso.
As you straddle his lap, you feel his boner poke your skin.
“Leave some for tomorrow,” you let out an exhausted chuckle.
“Ignore it…,” he speaks softly and you lean back, dropping your weight onto his chest. You close your eyes as you feel him rub and massage your skin with a soothing pressure all over.
You don’t realise you begin drifting into light sleep but blink a few times when your head jerks up, feeling his body shift underneath you. You lean forward to allow him some space and he gets out of the tub. You eye the way the water drips down his body, trickling over his toned back muscles before he grabs the towel to pat himself dry. His damp hair falls over his temple and you smile to yourself – you could definitely get used to this.
He holds his hand out to you and you take it as you get out of the tub. You undo the towel around his waist to dry your own body, feeling your skin prick due to the cold air after having spent a good few minutes in the hot tub.
Just as you’re about to wrap the towel around your torso, Toji tugs it out of your hand to drop it to the floor and instead lifts you up again to carry you out into the bedroom.
“Toji, I’m cold,” you hug your arms around his neck.
“I know… don’t worry, I’ll keep you warm,” he says as he lays you down on the bed, readjusting his position till he’s on top.
“I really think we should get some sleep,” you giggle when he kisses you cheek.
“This is how we build up your endurance… with more practice,” he leaves open mouthed kisses down your throat.
You laugh as you yank his hair to pull his face away from your skin. “Let me sleep! Good night.”
“You can sleep… I don’t mind,” he mumbles as his tongue teases one of your nipples, biting the hardened bud lightly.
“Toji! Behave!” you scold him in a not-so-convincing tone.
“If I had behaved, we wouldn’t be here,” he rolls his eyes as he gets back up to give you a long, lazy smooch till you’re both out of breath. When your lips part, he rolls to the side, collapsing on the bed next to you. 
He covers the thick blanket over your bodies before pulling you to his chest and kissing your shoulder with a soft ‘good night’. The act is surprising as you hadn’t really taken him for the cuddling type. You feel his boner stick out against your back once again and you laugh.
“Shh, this is all very new. Give me some time,” he teases, snaking his arm around your waist. You wrap your hand over his, letting yourself melt into his arms when he rubs soft circles over your belly. You involuntarily rub your ass against his hard on and he presses your stomach to still your movement.
“Don’t do that if you want to sleep,” he warns and you giggle as you close your eyes, the tiredness of the whole day taking over your senses as you fall asleep in his arms.
~~~
You wake up when you hear your phone ring from a distant corner. You try to move Toji’s heavy arm to free yourself but he pulls you in even closer.
“My phone’s ringing,” you whisper as you turn your head to look at him. His eyes are still closed as he grumbles in a low voice, “Let it.”
You still manage to wiggle yourself out of his grasp and quietly walk towards where your phone was lying on the floor near the door. Toji stirs and sits up, his eyes following your naked form as you pick up the call.
“Did you die in there or something?”, you wince when you hear Ema’s voice on the other end.
“Open the door, we’ve been out here for, like, 5 minutes now,” Lisa’s voice is more distant.
When your brain registers what they’re talking about, you slap a hand over your mouth as you stare at Toji.
“Give me 5 minutes,” you mutter before hanging up, not giving them a chance to protest. Toji gets off the bed and walks towards you.
“Ema and Lisa… they’re outside my room… and I'm here,” you sigh as you pick up your garments off the floor.
“Told you there’s no point in hiding,” he says, tucking a loose strand behind your ear, “I’ll walk you to your room.”
You simply narrow your eyes at him with a ‘yeah, right’. He takes the dress from your hand.
“I’m not joking…” he holds the dress up in front of you and shrugs, “Besides, you’re gonna have to wear my clothes anyway.”
You see that the zip is broken with the fabric looking frayed where the zip ends – you had heard it right, he did rip your dress last night.
“I really liked that dress,” you pout but it’s far from a complaint. You know you cannot complain after a night like that.
“I liked it too… it gave me a really hard time the entire night,” he gives you a quick peck, far from apologetic, “I’ll get you one just like it.”
You simply blush at his words before pressing your hands on his chest, “Fineee, get me something to wear.”
He squeezes your ass once before walking away to his suitcase. You put on your thong and bra back on just as he returns with a t-shirt and sweatpants. You snatch them out of his hands and put them on quickly. 
He laughs at how baggy his sweats are, the compression t-shirt is still okay in comparison, “Guess it’s too big for you?”
You crinkle your nose, cringing at his joke as you secure the drawstring tightly to keep the pants from sliding down, “No, it’s not that big.”
“Is that so?”, he wraps his arms around your waist, caging you in, “Do I need to refresh your memory?”
“Toji! My friends are waiting!” you slap his chest and he laughs, leaning down to kiss you.
“Let them,” he moves his lips down to your jaw.
“No, let’s leave,” you wiggle your way out of his arms, shoving your phone in the pocket of his sweats before picking up your heels to carry them in one hand. He quickly puts on a different pair of sweatpants with an oversized t-shirt and sliders before grabbing his keycard. 
“Oh wait… I think my keycard is in your jacket from yesterday,” you turn around when you’re at the door to find him already rummaging through the pockets to retrieve it. You grin at him and he simply shrugs, “Told you, I’m a gentleman.”
You roll your eyes again as he opens the door and you quickly make your way to the elevator. Toji’s hand is resting on your lower back when the elevator dings and the doors open. 
You know there’s no point in hiding, yet you walk ahead of him as you notice your two friends standing outside your room. Before you have a chance to greet them, you hear Toji’s booming voice from behind, “Morning, ladies!”
You brace yourself for their reaction and it’s just as animated as you’d expected. They don't try to be subtle about it as they smirk at you while greeting the man in unison and you realise it's a lost cause trying to keep it a secret.
And it surely doesn’t help that Toji makes it a point to grab your jaw and kiss you goodbye in front of the two for no damn reason, as if it weren’t already obvious about what had transpired between you two. 
As he leaves, you smile at him, watching him walk away. The heat rushes to your cheek when you hear Ema fake a cough and you turn around to look at your friends. 
“Open the door ASAP! I wanna know everything,” Lisa squeals and you know your friends would not leave you alone until you went into heavy detail about the whole night.
~fin~
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ordalya · 2 years
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#i am in such a bad mood i spent 4 days doing nothing but mindlessly watching tv going to work on a holiday getting frustrated because i#can't choose a new pc eating irregularly or not eating at all staying in my apartment with the shades closed because too hot otherwise#not getting dressed before 3 in the afternoon and then immediately going back to bed can't supervise what's happening at work my internet#is shit or it's the bloody factory who doesn't have internet anymore nothing ever work as it should when it does it doesn't last more than#a week didn't clean the apartment didn't go outside didn't cook didn't do anything i'm tired all the time and i don't want to go to work#i'm sick of it sick of my coworker sick because nothing works like it should i don't have the time to write all the technical support#documents and the co-workers doesn't take the time to THINK or doesn't THINK at ALL so shit never get done it's me who has to do the job#instead i should be writing those FUCKING tech documents i'm not because oh no! how do i do that because oh no! she didn't do it at night#oh no! i didn't know how to do it ! you did it already a few dozen times remember when we had to do it every 4 hours ? i wanted to say to#her but no i can do it if i don't have the protocol and your memory you have it ? or you ducking left it at home ? i so tired of them i#want to change job but i'm so tired i'm so insecure i don't have the courage to answer job offer there's one who is perfect for me but no#i'm paralyzed and stuck to my bed or my couch doing nothing nothing nothing i hate myself i feel so incompetent insecure i hate myself#should i tell you the number of time i dream of k#no no no non no#i hate that i'm self pitying i know exactly why i'm in this state and i do nothing do get better i have no friends i exchange at most 2#messages a month with my sisters and if i don't go see my parents on weekends i don't text them i 'm awful at keeping contact with everyone#even my family i hate mu self and even writing all of this selfish egoistic shit is not making me better because i'm still on my bed and#not doing things i should finish the dress and the shorts i started month ago and i don't i get frustrated every time I look at it all it's#left is the finishing touches and i can't seem to FINISH IT i hate that i'm like that starting something and never finishing it#i want to hide forever and feel nothing and the only thing I finished is my diploma in seven years instead of 5 and i don't want to go back
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catboybiologist · 4 months
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Hi! I'm Sierra. Time for a pinned post refresh.
Otherwise known as CatboyBiologist, or @hi-sierra (my SFW blog [this one is SFW too, but less so]). This page is remaining active, but if you want to find me somewhere else, I use the same username on reddit, Instagram, co-host, and tech.lgbt. This is me:
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Trans woman, PhD student in molecular biology, boymoder, shitposter, freediver, hot girl on your phone, hiker, rambler (this post included), tgirl tummy tuesday supplier and enjoyer, former femboy, bane of bioessentialist fuckwads who try to use biology to validate biogotry, flaming bisexual, 196 nanocelebrity… whatever was the first thing that brought you to my blog, I hope it’s enough to get you to stay! I post selfies, hornyposts (minors and people who are averse to that be warned), stuff about the ocean, posts about my growing sense of wanderlust, my adorable lil tortoise, tutorials for transfemmes and GNC people, rambles about science, documentation of my own transition, rambles about transness, rambles about the eroticism of programming a machine to feel arousal, rambles about nature, and random shitposts. Please send me pictures of cute animals in your life!
If you wanna support my science career and my transition, consider dropping a tip here! PhD salaries are notorious for being negotiated to be exactly the cost of living…. And then forgotten about for years as inflation drops that below minimum wage. So I’m always a little strapped for cash. Anything helps!
Links to some of my tutorials and relevant resources under the cut:
I'm tracking my transition, and some people have said they found this helpful! This spreadsheet is generally updated monthly:
Usually, I write a little journal to go with it when it updates- you can find that under the #trans journal on my blog.
If you're interested in checking out some of the things I'm trying to write, here's a post with links to individual stories I'm making:
https://www.tumblr.com/catboybiologist/741010247774306304/writing-consolidation-post?source=share
My femboy guide, written well before I started HRT, but still has relevant info:
A "boyboob" tutorial, aka how to make it look like you have cleavage in an outfit that looks better with it:
A quick and dirty guide to taking better selfies, with a specific emphasis on people who may have stopped hating their body recently due to transition:
And here's a few of my personal favorite little rambles and posts about my transness, in no particular order:
CW for transphobia on this one:
A massive shoutout to @foldingfittedsheets for this amazing art of the lil borgir holding a trans flag:
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I adore this so much <3 if you want to support their art, her commissions are open and really sweet!!!!
And of course, a massive shoutout to @whalesharkcat for this lovely pixel art of my tortoise:
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I still love this so much, and will continue to into the future <3
For preHRT selfies, search the femboy tag. For post HRT selfies, use the "trans selfie" tag. I've been on HRT since August of 2023, so I'm still very early in the process! Day to day, I present male, but I plan to change that around the 1 year mark.
I guess that's about it! One final note is that I've been alluding to video/podcast style things for a while now. With my aderrall prescription, I've actually put in a lot of research work that might lead to 1-4 of those, so that might actually happen in the near future! No promises of course, life always catches up to you.
And if you liked my previous pinned post better, here it is:
Anyways, if you read this far, thanks for sticking around and bbyyyyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
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spiderlyla · 3 months
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amable [gentle] (fem!reader × Miguel O'Hara):
cw: oral sex (f!receiving), praising kink, hair-pulling (miguel loves getting his hair pulled), make-up sex, overstimulation, p in v.
you can't for the life of you remember what made you so mad. all you remember is that you had a shitty fucking day. the entire day was nothing but a series of unfortunate events stringed together one after the other. first, on your walk to work, you were splashed with water from a speeding car that had stepped into a puddle, that you had to walk back home for a quick shower and a change of clothes.
you were obviously reprimanded by your boss for being late, and if that wasn't annoying enough, he had you re-do work for a colleague that had slacked off and then went on a vacation before anyone could revise what he'd done thoroughly. you were stuck almost all day in the office, bickering with men who wouldn't listen and doing work that wasn't yours. then just when you let your guard down as you were going home, one of your (extremly insistent) male co-workers offered to walk you.
he was so talkative, and so awfully flirty that he kept hitting on you all the way home. it is safe to say you were never this glad to see your apartment building before. all you wanted now was a nice hot meal and some peace and queit. that was apparently too much to ask for. your boyfriend came home a little early, bubbling with anger. it was evident on his features, his furrowed thick brows, his narrowed crimson eyes, the scowl on his lips.
"Why didn't you call me to come get you?" He shut the balcony door behind him, his spider-suit glitching, getting replaced by his regular attire, consisting of a black button up shirt and dress pants. "What are you talking about?"
"He walked you, ese idiota. What was it?Frank? Fred?" He made his way to where you were in the kitchen, you could see how angry he truly was, his fangs protruding just in the slightest, any hints of brown in his eyes completely taken over by the crimson swirling in them. "Fred, yeah. I told him no, mig, but he was really nagging me and I was already having a shit day, I didn't have the energy to tell him off."
"I could've come and get you myself. Why didn't you call me?" You were starting to get upset, you couldn't really handle any of this right now. "Because you were probably busy, Miguel. You always are, I don't call you because you're probably off saving some other universe that walking me home has got to be the last thing on the list of your worries." You brush past him, and follows you, face contorting with all sorts of emotions. "Aye, carino, you know I would've dropped it all if I knew that that pelotudo was gonna be with you."
"Oh, so there has to be another guy in the equation for you to pick me up? That's the only time it's valid to call you?"
Miguel frowns, confusion settling in as you try to avoid his touch everytime he tried to pull you towards him. "That's not what I meant." His eyes softened as he realised how stressed out and bothered you look, concern washing over his features. "¿Estás bien, amor? Te ves realmente—" [Are you okay, love? You look really—]
"Fuck—no, Miguel, I'm not okay!" You snap, frowning up at him. "I'm having a really shitty day, and I just—I need to be alone, okay?" He takes a step back, his surprised expression faltering to a neutral pokerface. "Yeah, okay." Your heart clenchs all of a sudden as you watch him walk away, and press a few icons on his gizmo, but to your utter surprise, a portal doesn't appear, his clothes change to a much more comfortable fit of a pair of sweatpants and a black shirt. He walks off to his office, leaving you all alone in the living room.
You know it's not fair, snapping at him like this just because you had a bad day. You spend the next hour eating in silence, then as soon as your done, you make your way to the office. Hesitantly, you knock, and you hear Miguel beckoning you to come in.
He is sitting at his desk, monitor screens floating all around him, their orange hue filling the entire room. He looks up at you through the frames of his glasses, setting down the file in his hand when you approach him. Awkwardly, you stand infront of him with your hands infront of you, much like a child who's gotten into trouble and is too sheepish to admit it. He stands up, and suddenly you fling yourself at him, arms wrapping around his waist in a firm grip.
He lets out a slight chuckle, and pulls you into his chest, like he'd expected this to happen. You look up at him, the stress of the entire day and the guilt you felt from snapping at your boyfriend accumulating into tears brimming in your eyes. " 'm sorry, Migs, I didn't mean to–"
"Sh, No estoy molesto, nena." [I'm not upset, baby.]
Being in his arms comforts you, the way he envelopes you so fully, how warm he is was enough to calm your fried nerves. Minutes pass and you don't move from his embrace until he does. One hand remains on your waist, while the other one tilts your head up. He stays queit for a moment, then leans down and presses his lips ever so gently to yours. You gasp at the contact, but quickly kiss him back, your hands travelling up his abdomen to rest on his shoulders. A groan erupts out of him, but he doesn't pull away.
The room gets hot, fast, and if he kept kissing you like this, you were sure you were going to melt. "Mig—"
"How about I take your mind off things tonight..." He whispers, calloused hands running up and down your sides, tracing the curves of your ass. "And you make up for the little outburst you had, hm?"
It takes a moment for you to realise he's speaking to you, and you only notice because he stopped kissing you and your lips tingled, longing for the sensation of his mouth against yours. You nod, dazed and hot that you felt like you're catching a fever.
He hums, amused, his lips ghosting over yours just to tease you. Before you know it, you're on your bed, your clothes long discarded somewhere on the other side of the room, with Miguel buried between your legs, mouth latched to your clit, while his hands kept your legs wide open.
"Ah—Mig, please.." Your hands are in his hair. His beautiful, soft, brown locks. Every time you tugged, he'd let out a loud groan, the sound vibrating and coursing through your entire body. Your legs involuntarily kept moving, the intensity too much for you to bear, but Miguel refused to let you close them, keeping them wide open to give him full access. Everytime you start feeling the knot in your stomach unfurl, Miguel moves away and bites your inner thigh, leaving marks that are only for his eyes to see. "What is it, baby?" His smile is wicked, like he knows what he's doing, like he knows exactly when to stop. "Miguel, n-no more, too much.."
He hums, nodding, then moves up, his lips finding yours immediately. Tasting yourself on his tounge was almost enough to bring you over the edge, just almost.
His tip was right at your entrance, and the anticipation made you want to sink lower just for any type of contact. "Miguel, pleasepleaseplease—"
"Shh, be patient, honey. I'm gonna give you everything you want." He peppers kisses all over your face, his heavy body pressing against you. "You still need to 'be alone', nena?" A soft whine escapes your lips, and you shake your head vigriously. "N-No, need y—Need you, Mig, 'm sorry—"
And just with that, he slides in. It's hot, and so, so filling. Your eyes blow wide, and your legs wrap around his abdomen as he sinks deeper and deeper into you. "Fuck, you're so pretty..." He whispers into the nape of your neck, his fingers lacing with yours. He holds your hand as he starts thrusting, trying to keep you grounded.
Your mind becomes hazy, you could only focus on the sound of his voice and the pleasure brimming and coursing through your entire body.
"Que niña tan linda." [Such a pretty girl.]
"Such—" "—a hardworking—" "—little thing."
"Sólo querías que te follara, ¿verdad?" [You just wanted me to fuck you, right?]
"Don't close your eyes, keep them on me."
Your eyes flutter open to see his own maroon ones staring right back at you. The sight of his damp hair, the sweat beads on his forehead made you clench around him, and that was enough for him to pick up the pace just in the slightest.
His pace is steady, rhythmic. He kisses you, again and again and again. You become hyperaware of him holding your hand, and once he squeezed it, you could only see white.
Once you come down from your high, you notice that you're laying on dry sheets, covered in the fluffiest duvet you have. You feel warm, extremly so, and then you realise Miguel was still right next to you, still peppering small kisses up your shoulder blades.
"There you are." He hums quietly once your eyes lock with his, "Think you fell asleep right away, you were mumbling."
"What was I saying?"
He replies in a matter-of-fact way, mouth still hovering over your arm. "My name. Over and over again."
"It's hard to think about anything else but you after that."
"Hm, then I suppose I did a job well done then."
408 notes · View notes
hyunsvngs · 6 months
Text
kinktober !
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kink: pegging
pairing: seo changbin x fem!reader
wc: 2.7k
pegging: in which someone penetrates another person's anus, usually with a strap-on dildo.
Excited was an understatement.
You were well-known. When you’d first started, you’d only been a camgirl recruited by the agency and had never had sex with another person on camera. It was liberating managing to do that, and even more liberating when the money started flowing in. You started having sex with bigger and bigger stars, and the amounts of money got unbelievable. However, today was the day you’d been waiting for.
Seo Changbin was another star in your agency. You hadn’t gotten the chance to film with him yet, because your schedules were always too packed, but you were a resident viewer of his videos. He wasn’t quite dominant, more of a passionate lover when he put his co-stars in a headlock with his muscled arms, but it made your clit throb nonetheless. You couldn’t wait to have him.
Except, not everything worked out the way you’d expected - that’s not to say it wasn’t in your favour. The agency had decided on a Halloween shoot, two of their biggest stars fucking on camera while dressed up in some raunchy costumes. You’d heard the premise and agreed on the script, but when you heard the plans they had for you… well, that was really a game changer.
A Playboy bunny skit was one thing, but a skit where you weren’t the bunny, but Changbin was? Now, that intrigued you. It had you flipping through the script to imagine it differently. He’d be in a pretty little black bodysuit, pushing those muscled pecs up and with cute ears perched on his head atop a headband. It sounded perfect. All you had to do was play the part of his dominant, the woman who was going to fuck his brains out with her biggest strap-on. It was easy.
It didn’t seem easy when you saw him. You thought you were going to go insane. Prior to the shoot, you’d been put in a pink satin dressing gown, soft ivory cotton adorning the wrists and the hemline. Obviously, you had nothing on underneath, and Changbin stood by the doorway to your dressing room, all muscled arms bulging over his bodysuit and a cut-out in the fabric showing some very appealing cleavage. Your jaw dropped.
“Hi,” He was shy, embarrassed despite bouncing over to you like he really was a little bunny. His ears shifted and he huffed, pressing the headband down onto his dark, curly hair. Your makeup artist fiddled around with your own hair, trying to get it perfect for the shoot. “I thought I’d introduce myself. We’ve never really crossed paths. I’m Changbin.”
You licked your lips, nodding to ground yourself. Be yourself. Be cheeky, be nice. “Hello. It’s so nice to meet you. It looks like we’ll be co-stars today, huh? Are you excited?” Damn, did you have to sound so formal?
Changbin hopped from one foot to the other, eventually settling on crossing his broad arms over his just-as-broad chest. “I’m a little nervous, to be honest. I’ve, uh… I’ve bottomed before, been pegged and whatever, but never on camera. I guess I just wanted to ask you to go easy on me.”
“I’m not going to go easy on you,” You blurted. Even your makeup artist paused. Changbin’s eyes widened. “No. No, what I meant was, like- you look good. You look hot, Changbin. I’d be lucky to peg you. I am- I am lucky to peg you.”
It’s just sinking in. You’re going to peg him, and you’re terrified you’re going to cum untouched. You’ve already forgotten the script.
“Oh! Heh,” He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, staring at the floor with a smug, downturned grin. “Right. You’re hot too, by the way. Really hot. I’ve been looking forward to shooting with you, and since I found out the premise, well… I’ve kinda been looking forward to it even more. Is that weird?”
“Not weird at all, me too,” You gushed. Changbin finally reverted his eyes to you, a real, toothy smile adorning his face when he saw how excited you really were. “Have you- um, have you… y’know. Prepped?”
Changbin blushed, a crimson shade covering his cheeks. He was so cute, you thought you were going to have a heart attack before the cameras even switched on. “It’s a surprise. You’ll like it. The surprise, I mean.”
“I’ll like everything else, too,” You nodded solemnly. Changbin giggled, a chiming overtaking the room. You blinked when he turned around and bounced out of your dressing room, and your makeup artist sounded like she was choking back a laugh. You groaned. “Don’t.”
She grinned. “I didn’t say anything, honey.”
When you arrived at the set, Changbin was already there. The set was cute, at least, fairy lights adorning the walls and bed sheets a blush baby pink. He looked cute too, laying on the bed scrolling through his phone as if he wasn’t dressed like the best bunny you’ve ever seen. You fucking loved Halloween.
You crawled onto the bed regardless, making Changbin jump and drop his phone. “Hi again,” You murmured, one finger running down his side. He jolted, giggling like it tickled him. “You really do look cute, Changbin.”
“Bin is fine. Even- even Binnie. I prefer Binnie-”
“Alright, quit the flirting,” Hyunjin chirped. Hyunjin was the best director you’d worked with. He didn’t mind if you went off-script, so long as it was all authentic and real. No fake orgasms, obviously. The sex had to look like art. Jeongin was his cameraman, and when you first met him, he’d been awkward and blushy - now, he looked at you with indifference apart from a cute grin on his pouty lips. You were so proud. “I know we sent you the script, but I’ve changed my mind. I want you to just kiss first, be natural, lead into whatever. Sounds good?”
That was another thing about Hyunjin. He loved to change the plans. You nodded, before briefly looking around the room. “Where’s the dick?”
“What do you mean?” Jeongin questioned, looking at Changbin. His eyes ran down to his crotch. “It’s there.”
“No, the strap-on, you idiot,” You huffed. Hyunjin giggled, before nodding towards the floor. Oh. There it was, clear as day, a bright pink strap-on that looked way too big to fit into someone comfortably. You hoped Changbin’s surprise helped him out with that.
Unsurprisingly, it did. Changbin rolled over onto his tummy and shook his ass at you teasingly with a grin, and you caught sight of a white fluffy bunny tail sticking out of a hole in his bodysuit. Oh. Oh, right. It’s a plug.
“Are you kidding me?” You gasped, reaching down to immediately grab it. Changbin jolted, eyes widening, and you took your chance. You yanked his face towards yours, pressing your lips against his in a dirty exchange of lips, teeth and spit. You briefly recognised Hyunjin and Jeongin mumbling to each other, and then the cameras switched on. You pushed Changbin back, letting his toned back rest on the bed and then you were in his lap, ignoring his whine at feeling the plug pressing in further.
You kept kissing him, unable to stop. His lips were so saccharinely sweet, and you could feel one folded-up bunny ear from his headband tickling your head. His tongue darted around your mouth and he let his hands grab at your waist, clothed erection grinding up into your naked pussy. You pulled away, smirking at him as you ran your fingers through his hair affectionately, before standing up and walking away. The cameras stayed on, recording every step you took as you crossed the room to examine your strap. You had to get to the point, or you’d be kissing him forever.
“The plug’s very cute, bunny, but do you want something bigger?” You muse, running your finger over the strap. Changbin nods, lips kiss bitten as he looks at you with teary eyes. “You want my strap, baby?”
“Y-Yeah. I- Hnng. I want your cock, please, mommy,” Changbin gushed, thick thighs spreading to allow you between them. You could see the bulge of his cock, hard and fat and pressing against the black satin of the bodysuit. You raised an eyebrow, however. The mommy kink was definitely not in the script - was he this far gone already?
You smiled and let yourself get back on the bed, strap in hand. You moved your free hand to his side, thumb tracing across his clothed hip bone. "Mommy’s going to give you what you want, sweetheart, you don’t need to beg.”
Leaning in, you pressed your lips against his once more and guided his mouth open with your tongue. You pulled away, letting out a low hum of arousal as he watched you with anticipation. Changbin’s eyes stayed glued to you, and you ignored the wetness accumulating on your folds as you let the pink robe drop, fully naked underneath. Your nipples were pebbled against the cold air, and Changbin’s gaze dropped to them, eyes widening.
“You like them, baby? Maybe you can suck on them while mommy fucks you nice and deep, yeah?” Changbin nodded, reaching out to you to pull you on top of him. You pressed your hand on his tummy softly, pressing him to the bed to calm him down. “I have to get the strap on, baby. Why don’t you take that bodysuit off for me?”
God, that was the best sentence that ever left your mouth. Changbin wriggled out of his bodysuit and he was left naked, all muscled, honey-toned skin revealed to you. His nipples were hard upon his broad chest, dark dusky peaks that begged to have your tongue running circles over them. His cock was hard against his soft tummy, short and thick and anticipating some attention - but your eyes immediately went to his cheeks. The plug stayed firmly inside his tight hole, fluffy material peeking out from tanned planes of skin. He really was the best bunny you’d ever seen.
Once the strap was firmly set on your hips, bright pink silicone alarming to the eye, you reached down to play with the plug inside his hole. He jolted, whining and spreading his thick thighs further for you, cock twitching in desperation.
“Please, please,” He huffed, chest heaving. “Please, mommy. I need something bigger, need something bigger in there, ‘s not enough, bunny needs-”
You cooed, running your thumb over his cheekbone. “Okay, okay. I’ve got you, bunny, spread nice and wide for me.”
He obliged, letting his thighs hang over his hands in a pliant, open position, and then you reached down to pull the fluffy pom-pom tail out of his hole. It slipped out, still slick with lube, and you groaned lowly at the sight.
“C’mere,” You ushered Changbin, and when he moved to come closer, you let the fake cock hang in his face. “Spit on it, bunny. We’ve got to get it wet or it’ll hurt, huh?”
Changbin moaned, nodding with urgency, and then he was sucking the tip past his lips. Oh. That’s not what you meant, but you were absolutely loving the view. He sucked half of the length into his mouth, moaning around the silicone as if it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. He was putting on a show for the cameras, you realised - you’d honestly forgotten they were there, too engrossed in the pretty bunny on display for you on this set.
You pulled the strap out of Changbin’s mouth, slapping the head a few times on his full, doll-like lips, before you were moving backwards to press it against his hole. The tip pushed in with no resistance, stretching his tight, little hole back out around the silicone. It was the rest of it that was an issue - Changbin thrashed around as the flared shaft entered him, stretching him further than the plug did and making him whine.
“‘S- ‘S big, mommy, bunny feels so good,” He huffed, cheeks blazing red. You could tell he’d lost all sense of coherence, and you understood why he’d never bottomed before on camera. He got way too into it. It stopped being porn, and started being more authentic - but then, Hyunjin liked that after all. You let your hips start to move against him, slapping against his skin, and he whined with approval.
You had to amp up the ante, though. “You’re like a bunny in heat, Binnie,” You mused, positioning yourself on your forearms above him. Changbin moaned, a guttural noise that made your pussy clench sadly around nothing. Maybe you could convince him to fuck you again after this, off camera. You thrusted into him a few more times before pulling out, making him whine at the loss. “Come and ride me. Hop on my cock like a good bunny, yeah?”
Once you were positioned on your back, Changbin scrambled to press his hole above your strap. In this position, you could see him properly, bunny ears askew and his cute cock bouncing against his tummy. He gasped as he sunk down on your strap again, the fake cock filling him up beyond belief.
“Oh. Oh, mommy, ‘s deep, deep, pressing against my, my-“ He cut himself off with a whine, hands coming to rest on your tits while he bounced. You cooed softly, hand rubbing over his thighs where they clenched with the exertion. He was quite literally bouncing like a bunny - he couldn’t stop his own movements, bunny ears flopping over his eyes and whines flooding out of his mouth. “It’s never felt this good. Oh, God, it feels so good, I need’a cum. Need to, oh, bunny needs to-“
“Ssh, ssh,” You mumbled, hand wrapping around his cock. It leaked beneath his foreskin, drippy and pearlescent as you started to pump it with a tight fist. You wanted him so bad - but this was about him. The cameras too, which you had forgotten about again. “Cum for me then. Cum on my tits, bunny, c’mon.”
Changbin wailed, hands moving to find purchase on your thighs. The change in position had him bouncing quicker, and you accompanied it with pumps of his cock at the same pace.
“G’na cum for mommy,” He mumbled, cheeks blazing crimson. It took two more bounces and you rubbed your thumb over his slit. When he keened, fingernails digging into your skin, you took that as your cue and aimed his cockhead at your tits. “Cumming! Bunny’s cumming, cumming, fuck!”
You watched in awe as his cock spurted out thick ropes of white cum, smothering your tits in the warm liquid. He gasped and writhed on the strap through his orgasm, hips slowing to a soft grind and eyebrows furrowing. You pumped him a few more times, letting him ride out his orgasm, and then you let his softening cock go for some reprieve. With one finger, you swept up his cum from your skin and sucked it into your mouth, humming at the salty taste.
Changbin huffed out a breath, collapsing on top of you unceremoniously. His headband slid upon his dark hair again and you giggled, pulling it off of his head altogether to run your fingers through it.
“Okay, wow,” Hyunjin huffed. You blinked hazily towards him, seeing him and Jeongin stood there with dropped jaws. “Okay. Okay.”
Jeongin giggled, pressing a few buttons on the camera. He grabbed Hyunjin’s wrist, starting to drag him out of the room despite the fact that the elder man seemed rooted to the spot. “I’ll take him away. You guys did great, just chill for a minute.”
Changbin giggled against your neck, and then he shifted his hips, letting the fake cock drop out. On autopilot, you rubbed your thumb over his gaping rim, grinning when he jolted and gasped.
“You really didn’t take it easy on me, huh?” Changbin said, shaking his head in disbelief.
You burst out laughing, chest shaking. “I did warn you,” You began, and then you felt awkward. He was snuggled up to your chest, sated and relaxed as if it was home, so… could you ask him? “Bin. Do you want to, like… go on a date sometime?”
Changbin perked up at that, looking at you with his usual downturned smile. “I’d love to.”
583 notes · View notes
cherryredstars · 4 months
Note
holy sbit i just read your actor!mig oneshot and i’m frothing at the mouthjfjfjdand it got me thinking
how would reader react if mig had to do a sex scene for a movie? i mean she’d be fine with outwardly but inwardly, understandably she’d be jealous asf, even though there is security in their relationship i feel like it would be difficult, how would mig react to her being insecure? or maybe jealous because of that🥹
(i saw ur requests were open and i couldn’t help myself, tysm for reading this and you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to i love your work regardless<333)
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Insecurity, Mirror Sex, Praise, Fingering, Oral Sex, Mentions to Breeding Kinks
Summary: Nothing but a good sex scene. 
Word Count: 2K (Not Edited)
Part 1
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The internet sucks.
You know that, Miguel knows that, everyone knows it. Yet, here you are, hurting your own feelings as your phone feeds you countless posts about your boyfriend and his new movie. His new movie that also stars a really popular, really really pretty female co-star. Who he had sex with. Cinematically. In the movie.
Movie sex is not real sex. Miguel says and reminds you all the time. Most of the time, sex scenes only consist of the actors being shirtless and zoomed in shots of their upper bodies. Convenient things like a perfectly placed object or being under the sheets hid the fact nothing is actually going on. Miguel always assures you that, if the directors want a real sex scene, he’d be out of there in seconds. 
But still, all the edits and tweets and pictures that are filling up every corner of the internet make your skin raise and ache. It definitely looks real. It’s not really a surprise, Miguel and his co-star are wonderful actors. They’re so good at their jobs. It makes you feel gross. Especially when you can’t stop replaying the scene over and over again. It’s not hard to find it, the scene devours the internet like a wildfire. 
She looks pretty. No, not pretty, gorgeous. Hot and sexy and erotic. Nothing like you at all. Her skin is impossibly smooth, shiny and soft. Her lips are painted in a deep red that pops against her skin and draws attention to her perfectly sculpted face. Even if it weren’t for the lipstick, the calculated moans she makes for the camera draws your attention to her mouth. Her moans are perfectly pitched. They’re breathy and her mouth forms the perfect ‘o’. It makes you rub at your throat, an uneasy feeling getting stuck there. You don’t moan like that. 
Her facial expressions are amazing too. Brows furrowed in a way that perfectly showcases her pleasure. But they don’t look funny or distort her face too drastically. When her eyes roll back, her eyelashes flutter so nicely. She doesn’t look possessed or ugly. Your hand subconsciously rubs at your cheek. You don’t look so effortlessly pretty like that.
It ruins you. Why would Miguel possibly want to have sex with you if he has pretty, hotter co-stars? The thought sticks with you even with Miguel on top of you. Usually, you’d be on your back, legs spread and exposed for his viewing pleasure. But you can’t, not today. So Miguel has begrudgingly agreed to take you in a different position. Your ass is in the air, upper body pressed into the mattress. Your face is completely hidden from his view, something Miguel isn’t the happiest about. What’s even worse, he can barely even hear you. You’re pushing your face into one of the stupid pillows, muffling the minimal sounds you’re making. 
Usually, you’re moaning and whining uncontrollably under him. Your mouth never shutting as noise spills from your swollen lips. It drives him crazy to hear your verbal pleasure. The pleasure he gives you. Sometimes you’re babbling broken sentences or just calling out his name, but it's everything to him. So hearing almost complete silence from you, paired with not being able to see your reactions, shoots worry through him. 
He tries everything he knows drives you crazy. He leans forward and pinches and tugs at your clit. It twitches in his fingers, but you don’t make your usual gasps. He spreads your legs wider and juts his hips into you with more force, hitter deeper against your wall. You don’t give him that beautiful, high-pitched scream of his name. You instead, shove your face into the pillow and hum. He leans in and whines into your ear about how tight you are. How he really, really wishes the two of you would throw away all protection so he can fill you up with his baby. Instead of begging and babbling, you wiggle your hips and push back into him. 
Something awful hits his chest. Did he do something wrong? Are you upset with him? Are you not feeling well? Does it not feel good?
He instantly stills, all the arousal he once had disintegrating. He pulls out slowly, not wanting to hurt you. You turn to him in confusion, brows furrowed from over the pillow. He flips you over gently, turning you on your back and dragging you close to him. You still have that pillow pressed to your lower face, arms wrapped around it. You look like a damn vision, naked before him with your hair spread out on the bed. You look like an offering with that white pillow covering your face and chest, leaving him to only focus on your big doe eyes and the fact your legs are spread to accommodate his body. Innocent and cute and sexy. 
His hands land on your outer thighs, warm and big as they rub up and down your skin. It makes you melt into the bed, a sleepy look masking your eyes. Miguel’s heart sings at the pure content on your face, but it doesn’t drown out his concern. He can feel unease in the air and his hair stands on end. Slowly, you pull the pillow away from your face as you realize he isn’t going to slip back inside of you.
“Why y’stop?” you call out shyly to him, a small pout on your lips. You seem nervous and Miguel’s hands tighten on your thighs. 
“You’re acting differently. What’s wrong?” He counters. 
You grow bashful under him, pulling the pillow up to hide your cheeks that are colored in shame. You simply shrug, turning away from him as you slowly start to close your legs. He doesn’t stop you, but he doesn’t take his hands off of you. He helps you sit up when you make the move to, his hand moving to grasp both of yours. He gives them a comforting squeeze and a kiss to your forehead. Your eyes flutter shut, breathing in the comforting clean scent he carries. 
“What’s wrong, mi vida?” He asks again. 
You don’t respond. But you don’t have to. Miguel looks at you like he knows. He always knows. Tentative and caring Miguel who always knows. His kiss to your forehead is rougher, more pressure behind it before he pulls away. The way he carries you is effortless, like he’s carrying a bag of feathers. He moves the two of you to the opposite side of the bed, directly in front of the wall of mirrors that make up the walk-in closet. He sits down first, maneuvering you to sit on his thigh with your back pressed to his front. 
Your eyes are glued to your reflection, naked against Miguel with nothing but a fluffy pillow hiding you. His face nudges at your jawline and neck. He places soft kisses along the skin, distracting you as he takes the pillow from you. He places it to the side, still within your reach. Your fingers itch to grab at it again, but you resist. Instead, you close your eyes and focus on the way Miguel’s fingertips glide over your warm skin and make you shiver. You lean back into him, head resting against his shoulder. His hands travel down, and you bury your face into the crook of his neck to hide your gasp. His fingers caress the lasting stickiness between your thighs, his own leg moving to widen yours. You peek at the mirror from beside his neck, eyes falling to the glistening between your thighs. Your cheeks heat and you nuzzle your face into Miguel as a way to hide. He hums against you, hand still moving and collecting your juices on his finger. You whimper when he pushes it in, thumb swiping gently over your clit.
“Shh, taking it so well, mi hermosa. My pretty baby.” He coos gently into your ear, curling his finger inside of you. 
Your hips buck instinctively, another whine leaving as his finger grazes your walls. His other hand comes to massage your hip and your eyes catch the movement in the mirror. Miguel is looking at the mirror too, studying you. His touch is soft, his finger pumping in and out of you slowly. You moan into his neck, eyes fluttering when he adds another. They scissor inside of you, meeting together to curl. Your hand comes up to hold his, taking it away from your hip and squeezing it tight to stabilize you. 
He hums into your hair, muttering soft praise into the strands. His fingers continue curling, going to the knuckle so he can press onto the gummy spot inside of you. You can’t hold in your moans anymore, giving them freely to him. It makes him smile, kissing the crown of your head. 
“That’s it, singing so prettily for me, yeah?” He asks, letting go of your hand to grab your chin. 
He removes your face from his neck, making you face him. Your eyes are droopy from pleasure, and your lips are parted slightly so soft moans can escape. It makes his cock jump, but he ignores it to give you a sweet kiss. It’s soft and passionate. His lips opened and slanted against yours. His tongue is warm as it slips into your mouth, caressing your own until the both of you are moaning into each other's mouth. It makes your head foggy and you forget all about what you were scared about before. 
When Miguel pulls away, he turns back to the mirror and groans at the sight of you. You’re slick is dripping down his fingers and your skin fucking glows in the reflection. His fingers speed up, his thumb pressing into your swollen bud. 
“Been thinking about you so much, y’know that. Was fucking fantasizing about you during that whole movie. Imagining doing all those things in the script to you drove me fucking crazy. Had to take care of myself in my dressing room thinking about your cute little noises and the faces you make. Mi hermosa nena.”
The little whimper you let out paired with the tightening of your walls is fucking precious. He pulls you into another kiss, quickening his fingers until your whole body is twitching. You have to pull away from the kiss, your hand clawing to his arm and nails digging in as your moans get louder. With a hard flick to your clit and the curling of his fingers, your body is shaking with an orgasm. Your toes curl, head thrown back against his shoulder as he finger fucks you through your orgasm. 
“That’s, that’s my beautiful girl. Ride it out baby, I got you.” He mumbles against your shoulder, pressing kisses along the curve of skin. 
He only stops pumping into you when your hand pushes him away. Your body is heaving with the effort of breathing, and Miguel watches every second through the mirror. When you finally compose yourself, you nuzzle into his skin. It makes Miguel smile, kissing your hair again before gently lifting you off of his lap and laying you down on the bed. You watch hypnotized as he sucks his fingers into his mouth, humming around them before popping them back out. You whine softly at him, and he chuckles down at you. 
He leaves you on the bed, vanishing into the bathroom before coming back with a towel. It makes your brows furrow, leaning up and your elbows as he begins to clean you up. 
“But… What about you?” You ask, eyes trailing down to his prominent hard-on. 
Miguel follows your line of sight, shaking his head when he looks back up at you. “Don’t worry about it baby, all I care about right now is you.”
His confession makes you melt, letting yourself sink into the bed. His touch is gentle as he cleans you, and he throws the towel to the floor when he’s done. He hovers over you, leaning down to kiss you softly before resting his head against yours. 
“Te amo, mi amor.”
And you know. He always lets you know.
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973 notes · View notes
yxami · 11 months
Note
Yandere gangster finding out his poor darling is being harassed at work by a jerk who’s a little too handsy-
Description: yandere gangster x reader, mentioned killing, possessiveness, yandere stuff
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“What?” His one simple word spit out venom. His tone frightened you, not for your own safety but for the man who has been bothering you recently.
You mistakenly told Eamon about him, slipping out that a coworker of yours has been a little too close recently. He was a person you chatted with from time to time but lately he’s been sneaking brushes against your leg, taking peeks at you, and being so insistent to take you out even if you say you have something going on.
“But it’s okay! I’ll just ask to be moved and he won’t bother me anymore!” You assured him by holding his hand, trying to comfort him into believing in you to handle the situation.
But he knew that! He knew you could handle the situation but that didn’t comfort him that you would still see that creep where he could still bug you. That’s why he decided to take matters into his own hands. Afterwards, he would have to ask for your forgiveness but it was necessary to keep you safe.
He flicked the cigarette he had just finished onto the floor, smushing it under his foot to properly extinguish it. He blew out a dark gray smoke as he scanned the office you worked in.
He knew what time you’d go out for lunch, he would just have to find out whenever that fucker would leave the office. He knew that he was bound to run out of the office one of these days, no matter the reason, it would be the cause of his death.
You stretched yawning, leaning over on your chair to crack your back. You saved the draft you had written up and closed the tab. Lunch was ready and you were extremely hungry for what you packed yourself.
“Hey cutie, wanna come with me to go eat at the cafe across the street?” Your coworker uncomfortably wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close.
“Um, no thank you! I packed myself some lunch and I wouldn’t want it to go to waste” You smiled as nicely as you could, even though his touch was cold and sent shivers down your back. Everything about the guy was so creepy, especially how much of his touches he tried sneaking by as friendly.
Eamon watched from the street, feeling more livid than before. He wants to barge in there and shoot him already, but he can’t. He can’t because you’ll see and everyone else will. The grip on his well hidden gun only tightened seeing the way you looked.
He felt angry for not noticing it sooner, he never thought he would have to worry about a guy in your workplace. Stupid mistake but he’d never do it again, now he’d make sure to protect and watch over you more often.
“Awe, next time then?”
“Mhm!” You were able to slip out of his grasp, making your way to the break-room. You thanked whatever saved you from him, he always made you uneasy, there was something eerie about him like he wasn’t just a normal co-worker who didn’t know boundaries.
“What a tease” He watched you walk away, grumbling to himself about how hot you looked. He collected his coat, putting it on to face the cold weather outside. He was still gonna go to the cafe, even if you weren’t coming. Maybe next time you’ll be convinced.
He left the office, crossing the street only to be followed by a figure hidden in the shadows. He had no clue that he was in danger until he was pulled into a dark alleyway, by a large dumpster that hid the two of them from the public walking past.
“Wha- what the fuck?!” He yelled before something metallic was shoved into his mouth. A silencer that could only be described as quiet death was sitting on top of his tongue. He was tasting what would eventually end him. He made muffled cries, tears streaming down his face now realizing that he was in danger.
“Do you like being a creep? Do you go around bothering people everyday?” Eamon’s husky voice only sent more pangs of fear into his victims heart. His body was filled with adrenaline yet he was sat down next to garbage bags, not being able to move.
“Men like you are disgusting wastes of space that should cease to live. Didn’t your mother ever teach any manners?” He cocked his gun, it made a quiet clicking sound to signal it was ready. “Or did you think it was okay to do that?”
Your coworker quickly shook his head, making muffled attempts at saying no. He didn’t know why he was in this situation or how. He just wanted to live, he didn’t want to die!
“Really?” He titled his head, questioning the man with a simple word.
“Mhm!” More hot tears of panic ran down his cheek, unable to say anything other then a noise of approval.
A silent pang was heard only to the ears of the two of them. If he even managed to process the bullet that went through his head. Eamon pulled a cloth out of his pocket, wiping the pistol that was covered with blood and disgusting saliva.
“Fucking idiot” He simply said before hiding his gun in its rightful place.
He went to his house to go and get cleaned up. He had made sure to not leave any evidence before he left. It was pretty simple to do when he did this every week for some cash.
He texted you, wondering when you would get out. He was happy to know that it was soon and he would be able to come over like usual.
When he arrived at your apartment you welcomed him in, telling him to go sit down while you started some tea. You had the TV playing the latest news, but nothing interesting came up so far.
“So how was work? Busy as always?” Eamon smiled, seeing how happy you were that he was here. You always managed to make him crack a smile no matter what mood he was in.
“Mhm! But I finished my work early! I didn’t get distracted by my coworkers” You grinned, hugging him. You were glad he was visiting you often. Even if you weren’t sure what the two of you were, it was nice to have him around.
You wondered if he was still mad about the guy you spoke about. You decided on not asking him just in case he was over it.
“I think the teas ready! I’ll be back” You got up, making your way to the kitchen. You grabbed the tea set you had and placed it down, carefully pouring the tea.
Eamon glanced at the TV as it loudly blared about a dead body found in an alleyway between a popular cafe and a hair salon. Both locations were named while the reporter on the screen started to reveal the victim.
“We have news coming in that the body was identified as 23 year old Si—“ A click was heard as he turned the channel off, seemingly bored of what the TV had to say.
“What happened? Someone died?” You brought in the tea and sat down next to him to notice it was turned off. You looked at him expecting an answer.
“Nobody important, just another homeless guy drinking himself to death” He brushed off the topic with a wave of his hand. “What tea did you make this time?”
“I made green tea! Here try” You picked up the tea cup and gave it to him. He drank a bit, enjoying the hot fresh taste to it.
“Tastes good! You’re getting better” He complimented, praising you even more by patting your head. You happily leaned into his touch and thanked him.
He hoped you wouldn’t get too mad when you found out the news. For now, he’d just enjoy your blissful company before you’d scold and pout at him. Who knows, maybe you’ll get used to his killings someday.
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chronically-ghosted · 4 months
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stay gold, baby boy
rating: 18+ (expliiiiicit)
pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader
word count: almost 6K
summary: six months into your friends-with-benefits situation, you institute a new game. A gold star on the board every time Dieter is a good boy. Today, he gets bingo . . . for wearing real pants. 
warnings: friends with benefits (with more feelings), oral (m receiving), dom/sub dynamics (guess who subs today!), talks of edging, hair pulling, creampie, piv sex, praise kink, my mother raised me to have better taste in men but fuck it
a/n: remember when i posted this picture? And then this one? Remember how you could hear me yelling from space? Well, @sp00kymulderr has added fuel to the fire – Dieter and stickers. I can’t explain myself except that I was horny and I wanted to take his pants off with my teeth. So I did. 
✨gif credit goes to the ever incredible, talented, and enabler of my dieter fantasies @perotovar! she saw me floundering with the header and immediately was like 'hold please i can make his baby cow eyes even better'✨
🤍Masterlist
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With your foot on the low table, your ass firmly planted on the middle poofy cushion of the dumpster bin couch at the back of the trailer, thumbnail nibbled between your teeth, you have to admit it’s starting to get a little embarrassing. It’s honestly such a bad look.
Not that he would ever shame you for it. In fact, he’d probably like it. 
And it’s not like you waited for him here all day. You had things to do as one of the co-screenwriters on this film. You had things to do and people to see and stuff to organize – all of which had nothing to do with Dieter fucking Bravo.
Okay, so a lot of it actually had to do with him. Lots of scene rewrites, lots of notes from the studio, lots of instances where the two of you had to put your heads together and come up with a solution that made the studio happy and didn’t make you want to claw your eyes out artistically speaking. 
Which had led to this. 
And the past six months of whatever this is. Working together led to seeing each other (outside of work), to eating with each other, to fucking each other – with the line firmly drawn there. 
Whatever you may say about Dieter, the man could compartmentalize in a way that would make Marie Kondo weep with joy. By the way he treated you on set, no one in their right mind would ever have guessed he knew what you looked like naked. Or that he knew your left nostril twitched just before you came.
The same could be said for you too. Out of boredom one morning in the grocery store, you bought a trashy magazine with his face emblazoned across the top – Dieter Bravo and His Lonely Hearts Club. You weren’t one for the gossip rags, but flipping through it, not a single one of his “club members” mentioned his raging praise kink. You bought the damn thing on the spot, giving them all a consolation prize of some sort. Sorry, ladies, guess I win. Ha. Ha.
But, at the edge of the cushion, eyes occasionally flicking between the door and the failing darkness outside, you didn’t feel much like you’d won anything. 
In fact, you’d lost. Big time. When all of this had been your stupid idea in the first place. 
It had been your idea (and your initiative) to buy a packet of gold star stickers. Like the kind teachers use with their first graders. Actually, exactly like the ones teachers use for their first graders. You couldn’t form words when the woman at the education supply store ringing you up asked, “oh, what grade do you teach?”. You just tossed a twenty at her and booked it, your face painfully hot for a fairly innocuous purchase. 
But all of that was his fault for dropping a praise kink and a teacher kink on you all at once the night after you jokingly spanked him with a ruler in front of the director, in-front of his co-star, because he wouldn’t agree to a line change, and he had to excuse himself from the room. 
A month later and he forgoes touching himself for a gold star. He agrees to your line changes without argument for a gold star. He picks you up in the morning and drives you home at night for a gold star (you could drive yourself, but there’s always that last minute thing you need to talk to him about so you do it just because it’s easier, really).
He lets you come, over and over again, and keeps nothing for himself – all for a gold star. 
Someone is bound to figure it out. They have to. Six months in and you’re getting sloppy. Obvious. What the fuck would you be doing in his trailer at seven o’clock at night after a full day of shooting unless you’re fucking him? 
But you, worryingly, can’t find it in you to care. 
You had lost your mind, that’s what you lost. Because tonight is the night Dieter gets his final gold star. It’s his reward but you’re about to vibrate out of your skin with want. 
(It didn’t matter that you hadn’t seen each other in two weeks and by the third day, an ache had settled in behind your breastbone, one that clutched your phone in your hand, and forced your eyes to the screen every minute, checking for a new text message. 
He called on day five, by the way.)
Your neck snaps up when you hear voices outside of the trailer. Laughter, his. 
You suddenly feel the need to flatline against the floor in case anyone might see you.
Fuck, and how are you supposed to explain yourself if the someone he is with follows him into the trailer? Too many frightfully bad scenarios and you’re rooted to the floor, unable to make a single decision. 
The metal latch clinks and his trailer door swings wide open.
“Yeah, man, I’ll catch you tomorrow.” 
You can hear a deep, “see ya” from the other side (maybe Daryl from craft services?) and the scrap-metal trailer squeaks, as the lock clicks shut. 
Dieter scratches his cheek, surveying the trailer as if some part of him knows something is different, but his conscious mind can’t figure it out. 
Until he turns. And nearly leaps out of his skin.
“Fuckin’ – what are you doing in here? Wait – I thought you left town to scope out the new location in San Diego.”
You want to answer him. You know how – open your mouth and tell him the trip’s been delayed for a few days, nothing serious, timeline bullshit – but you can’t. 
It’s officially embarrassing.
It’s embarrassing how turned on by Dieter Bravo you are.  
Hair in all kinds of directions, skinny cloth bracelet loose around his wrist, he had pushed up the sleeves of his henley shirt, exposing the thickly drawn triangle over his forearm and the clear one near his wrist. His hand with the rings hangs by his side and something inside of you silently whines. 
But what really sets you off, what really makes this embarrassing and terrible because there’s no bluffing here, no hiding your cards and folding – nothing you can do to keep spit from flooding your mouth the longer you look –
He’s wearing pants. 
Black with loose belt loops. Zipper and all. A silver button sitting between his hips. Fuck. Just like you told him to. Fuck fuckfuck.
You’re briefly aware when he says your name and you have to make a physical effort to tear your eyes away from that glinting silver eye winking up at you.
Dieter’s frowning, knowing silence isn’t really your thing. 
“Are you okay? Why are you –,”
As though it had called his name, his gaze drifts from your face to the table between you and him. Where his scorecard rests with four stars in the Good column, and shockingly, none in the Bad.   
His mouth parts, eyes going dark, as the realization hits him like a mack truck.
“Delays,” you say suddenly, preemptively, knowing that normal people usually have some sort of preamble before tearing each other’s clothes off. You stand up a bit straighter, tilt your jaw away from him, gaze leveling him from the end of your nose. You have got to get this thing under control. “Frank ran into some scheduling issues with the boat for the lake scene so, until further notice, the trip to San Diego has been delayed.” 
He blinks slowly as if he’d been struck over the back of the heat, mouth parted. He has such fucking gorgeous, fucking perfect lips –
“So you’re here?” he asks, his voice low, disbelieving. 
You scoop up the scorecard and step over the table, your shoes long since gone. It’s like his vision narrows the closer you come; he is transfixed, gaze on you as if molded at the seams, as you step up to him. You tap him on the chest once with the corner of the scorecard, excitement and nerves and that ache making you tremble despite your confident appearance. 
“So I’m here.” 
“On the last day of the week.” Words thick, as if all the moisture had been sucked out of his mouth.
“On the last day of the week.”
“When I,” he swallows thickly, “when I should get my reward.” 
God, this kind of power trip should not be making you this wet. 
You lift your gaze from his chest, taking in his beautifully dumb-struck face. 
“You will.” You nod. “And do you know why?”
His breath quickens, lip between his teeth, when you scratch off the final star from the package and stick it to the Good column. 
“Because I was a good boy?” 
You toss the scorecard behind you, it clatters onto the table, and you cup the back of his hot neck.
“Because you were a very good boy.” 
He stumbles back, knees unsteady, when you kiss him. You see his eyes a split second before you close yours and hot electricity swoops down to the pit of your stomach. It would be mortifying if you just fucked him right here and now – he does deserve something extra special – but fuck – you want his whole hand inside of you.
His warm palm slides across your jaw, pulling you into him, and Dieter breathes, deep and long, inhaling as much as he can. You don’t think he realizes that he’s picked you up off the ground with his arm around your back until he opens his eyes, vision hazy and off-center. 
“Go lock the door, baby.” 
He nods and puts you back down. You slip off your jacket as he bolts the trailer door shut.
Dieter’s mouth drops open when he turns around and sees you on your knees.
Shit, you should have stolen some knee pads from the costume department. 
“Really?” 
You smile at him because he asks like a kid that just got offered a puppy for Christmas. You reach towards him and he takes your hand, unsteady on weak knees
“For as long and as much as you want.”  
You palm him and Dieter groans, mouth-closed at the sensation, the hard ridge of the metal zipper not one he is entirely familiar with. At least, not like this. Beneath the warm press of your palm, you feel him thicken, harden, and you press more, digging your fingers into his thighs. The muscles in his legs tense, his mouth falls open, as his hips cant forward, desperate for the new weight of the zipper. 
“And I won’t make you wait, Dieter,” you say, eyes tripping up from where your hand sits, up to the flash of exposed tummy where his pants have ridden down and his shirt slid up, into his almost surprised gaze. “You’ve been very good, wearing this for me, but I want you to learn why it’s important to wear pants with buttons.” 
“I-I t-t-thought,” he tries, voice abruptly cutting off when you nuzzle the constrained bulge in his pants. He tries again, eyes slamming shut as if to stifle the sensation of your warm breath so near to where he needs you the most. “I thought i-it was so I d-din’t – didn’t look bad.” 
Your face still pressed into his crotch, you briefly massage his calves, then the backs of his thighs. You cup the curve of his ass through the starchy back pockets, which is remarkably prominent now that he’s in something else than baggy sweatpants.
You shake your head, nose dragging along his hot length, against the space between his hip bone and his cock, smiling. 
“Baby, you know I like how you look. I always want you to be comfortable.” You look up and meet his eyes. The remaining brown not yet wholly consumed by a blurry, heated darkness softens. Somewhere beneath the hazy, disarming feelings of lust currently filling his head like a bike tire, he’s still your Dieter. Or – well, wait – at least the Dieter you know. The Dieter you have impossibly fun times with. The Dieter who makes you laugh like no one else. The Dieter that can make you fall apart until you’re a gooey, dripping mess and he still manages to stitch you back together. The Dieter that keeps you up at night thinking he might possibly want something more. “But this is so much more fun.”
Grounding your chest against his thighs, holding yourself against him as leverage, you sink your teeth into the corner of the fabric fastening his pants together. Eyes up at him again, you tug and his cock is pushed up against your tits from the force of the pull. He rocks forward, an airy gasp escaping his mouth, and the button gives, the lip of the fabric sliding back as the silver disk slips through the hole. Now your touch is unimpeded by rough fabric when you lean forward and kiss him just below the waistband of his black boxers. 
It takes you a second to realize that Dieter Bravo is wearing underwear at all and you smirk up at him.
Something about your gaze makes the tips of his ears go red, as if he had been caught being very naughty. His big hand cups from your jaw to your ear, as if trying to placate you, beg you not to be mad this close to his cock. 
“You said I had to dress u-up,” he says, eyes wide and round. God, he’s trying to be so good. One week of the rating system and Dieter Bravo is a trembling mess. Despite your wildly beating heart, you smirk, your thighs shaking briefly at the sudden rush of tenderness you feel for the man in front of you. You hide your own blush by mouthing that open spot just below his tummy and above his cock, wetting the black material with your tongue. Before he can whine about it, you pull back just barely, enough to curl your fingers around both his black underwear and the pants he wore for you. Just as you begin to pull down, you nip the zipper between your teeth and slowly, slowly, rubbing your nose against him, tug the metal teeth apart. His pants open and Dieter groans loudly. He’s already so sensitive. 
For a mouthy, ego-driven bastard, he really did have a magnificent cock. Flushed at the base, thickest you’d ever had inside you, and he’s leaking silvery threads from the head. The vein thickly pulsating on the side makes you wonder how he hasn’t passed out from all the blood rushing to his cock. 
You lick that vein, that beating pulse, and his knees buckle. His massive hand grips your shoulder and Dieter shakes his head, his mouth wrenching open.
“Please, please — mhmm — don’t tease. I-I can’t – you haven’t – please.” 
As if you would be cruel to him. You feel rather dizzy, elated on the idea that you wield this much power over him. That he trusts you with all of him. There it comes again, that arching ache in your chest. 
“I’m just trying to get myself ready for you,” you confess quietly. “I’m not trying to hurt you.” 
Dieter swallows something large in his throat, panic receding from his eyes. His smile is small and his touch on your cheek is light.
“I know.”
And you weren’t lying. You’d never forget the sound of your jaw popping and cracking the morning after you sucked him off three times before you let him come. Dieter is shockingly big, annoyingly only when he uses it against you or makes you tell him over and over just how big he is before giving it to you. For now, you just want to remind him how very appreciative you are that he gives it to you at all. 
Eyes decidedly looking away from the warmth on his face, you squeeze the backs of his thighs as you relax your jaw as much as you can. Above you hear him huff with his mouth shut as you start to take him in, your tongue wetting that soft skin on the underside of his cock. One move forward and you’ve wet him halfway, tongue massaging that vein. Another drop of your head and you’ve taken him completely.
“Fuck,” Dieter murmurs, the hand on your shoulder tightening. Your heart pounds in your chest all the harder when he takes his other hand and knots your hair with his fingers. By the twitching of his thighs beneath your palms, you know it’s taking every ounce of his restraint to not buck his hips forward. “That’s it that’s my girl you take me so fucking good you feel so fucking good.”
The thing about your mouth that is markedly different from your pussy: you can’t release your gag reflex to take more of him. But fuck, you want him to fuck the back of your throat – you just might drown before it happens. 
He smells surprisingly clean as your nose inches closer and closer to his skin. With each pull, you slide your tongue down the other side, until it pokes through and licks where you haven’t reached with your mouth yet, inches from his pelvis. He shudders when you use the tip of your tongue. 
“Oh my god, your mouth, baby, your mouth.” The words dribble out of his slack mouth, fingers flexing in your hair as if he can mimic pushing your head down further. You pull all the way off him, tongue catching the rim of his cock and he drops his head back against his shoulders and moans. The sound of it makes your pussy throb and you breathe out your nose to stifle your own noises. This is about him. He did good. He was a good boy the whole week. 
You replace your mouth with your hand. Sufficiently wet from the way you slobbered all over his cock, you use a fist around his flushed head to smear pre-cum all the way down to the base of him. You brush his balls with your knuckles, just as you fit the tip between your lips, sucking – and Dieter bucks, hard. 
“Ngh – shit! S-sorry!” His nails dig into his thighs, eyes squeezing shut as silvery threads spurt out from his cock. 
Maybe you’d gone too far with the whole sticker thing and he really thought this was another test. His cheeks are burnt pink, his chest heaving and it’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. 
“Dieter,” you cry softly, gently, comfortingly. He still doesn’t open his eyes, not even when you resume stroking him. You lick the soft skin of his balls and his gasp punches the air out of his lungs, his eyes splitting open. He looks down at you, thighs trembling and you squeeze him gently. Not to edge him or punish him, but to make this last a bit longer for him. “Dieter, take your shirt off and sit down.” 
He can’t move fast enough. He yanks the henley over his shoulders, the collar scraping his hair up in wild directions. He goes to sit but his thighs are shaking too much and he just sort of tumbles onto his ass. Smiling, you take your own shirt off, hoping to save this particular bra reveal for another time, but fuck, this time is as good as any. Despite his panting and squirming, his gaze rolls from your face to your tits. Emerald green with black lace, this is far too nice for a work bra and it properly communicates to him that you were going to fuck him whether or not he was going to get that final gold star. The realization is visible as it crosses his mind, bleeding hungry black in his eyes. 
You take off his pants all the way, before sliding your own jeans down and to the floor. His roving gaze catches the matching panties and the noise in his throat is deep, like a smothered grunt. 
“Now, I’m going to suck you off no matter what,” you say as you crawl in between his legs, before leaning back and sitting on your heels. You smooth your hands down his thighs, near his red, stark cock, but not touching. Dieter’s breathing hitches in anticipation, not sure where to put his hands or his gaze. “But I want you to answer one question for me first.” 
He nods rapidly, spreading his knees further for you as if to remind you there’s other places he could be fucked. 
“Why did you think I was going to punish you today?”
You’ve asked this question paraphrased a dozen times, usually when you both know the answer: he came without asking, or he came by himself, or any of the dozen reasons Dieter liked to push your buttons, only for you to break him as far as he can go. But today, there’s no sultry edge, no double meaning. Your question is sincere and it takes him a moment to understand. He swallows as his eyebrows tug down on his forehead, something vulnerable flashing in his eyes before a look of uncertainty crosses his face.
“We’ve never had sex just to have sex.” He says it like a question. He settles into the floor one hand going behind his head, the linear tattoo on his forearm dark like a third eye. “Not that I’m complaining but it’s always a competition, or because we’re bored, or you wanna work out some personal shit because of the costume department. I know this is my reward, but I figured there had to be some kinda catch to it.” 
You frown deeper than him. “There’s no way we haven’t had normal sex.”
Something like a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Define normal sex.”
Now it’s your turn to go warm across the cheeks. “I mean, like . . . outside of . . . our roles. Where there aren’t roles at all. It’s just . . .”
You break off for the third time, the look in his eyes forcing you to snap your mouth shut before you say something incriminating like, just us. 
Dieter shakes his head. “No, we haven’t.” 
“You’re telling me in six months, that’s never happened once?” You adjust on your heels and cross your arms. “It’s not like you can remember every time we’ve had sex.”
“I do.” This, coming from him, is not a question. It’s an irrefutable statement that you don’t seem able to refute with a no you don’t. There is no room for arguing. 
Driving right on through the heat of your cheeks, that ache returning, you shake your head. “Then doesn’t that get old? Having to play games every single time?” 
Dieter pouts as he thinks, eyes on the roof of the trailer. “Sometimes, but I don’t mind. Not enough to want to stop fucking you.” 
“So, after a week of nothing, you were totally willing to let me edge you within an inch of your life? Let me treat you badly?”
Dieter smirks and it suddenly feels like you’re the one under him. “Sure, but you like me too much to keep it going for too long. And you like watching me come.” 
Your teeth grind together at this very bold accusation, your entire face blazing. Weren’t you supposed to be domming him today??
His feet slide out beside you and Dieter is the very picture of arrogance, his arm still tucked behind his head. He drums his fingers on his stomach.
“If it makes you feel any better,” he says, the smirk around his mouth soft, “I like you too.” 
It doesn’t. Not really. Not when his words spear through you hot and hard, landing in your chest like a landmine. Fuck. 
Fuck.
“Oh, so this is all for me, then?” You ignore the fact that you’ve slipped back into your role in active defiance of talking about this anymore, and crawl forward until your forearms frame his head. That teasing contentment fades from his face as he watches you, eyes following a line that only he can see from your nose, lips, chin, throat and tits. Your hair slips off your shoulder, darkening the light on his face when you straddle his waist. “But what about you? Don’t you want to come?”
He nods, slower than before, but only to keep from breaking eye contact with you. Light as feathers, Dieter trails his fingers up the backs of your thighs, over the curve of your ass, to settle into your hips. His mouth parts in anticipation, pink tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. 
“I do,” he says, rolling his neck as if he can see more of you this way. “I really fuckin’ do.”
“What a coincidence.” You shift down, dragging the wet patch on the emerald green underwear beneath your drooling cunt, shift until it slides across his half-hard cock and Dieter’s hands dig into your hips, a groan breaking off in the back of his throat. His eyes slip half-closed, a thick, smoky black enveloping that beautiful brown. “So do I.” 
Grinding down over so slightly, you roll your hips once more – Dieter tenses, his hands easing to the tops of your thighs – before sitting back on his knees. 
“Now relax, baby, you’ve earned it.” 
You drop forward over his hips, open your mouth, and slurp him up between your lips. 
The noise that comes out of his chest is broken, knocked loose, split down the middle. You take him all in one, down until your nose is tickled by his coarse hairs, and you swallow. He is immediately, instantly, rock hard and dribbling. You swallow again and his hands dive into your hair, knotting the strands around his fingers, the way a rider draws up the reins of his horse. He goads you down with just gentle pressure, needy and demanding all at once, and you take him, and you take him, and you take him until the blunt head prods the back of your throat and you gag, throat constricting, and Dieter’s eyes roll back in his head. 
“Shit, that’s too fucking good.”
You breathe out your nose, pulling up just enough to keep him off your reflex, but instead you hollow out your cheeks and suck, tongue pressing up against him and around that hammering vein. 
And here, here comes the sound you’ve wanted from him all night –
Dieter whines, high and keening, his neck straining, your skull pinching from where he pulls. Between your thighs, the emerald green is completely ruined, buffed out dark in the wet. 
The vein throbs again and you nearly drop onto your elbows, not caring if you choke or drown or sputter, you want him in your mouth, you want that salty, gooey taste of him that you find you can’t seem to lick up enough. You want him inside you –
With a grunt that morphs into a groan as it rises up his chest, he tugs hard enough on your hair that the pain splits your mouth open, head tugged back enough that he slips out of you, a thread of pre-cum from your puffy lips to the tip of his blunt head. 
You lied. This wasn’t entirely for him. 
You can feel your lips twist into a snarl. “Dieter, what are you –,”
He kisses you with such a force, that noise in his chest is transferred to yours, a collision that sparks a causal nexus and his own desperation bleeds with your own. The kiss is messy, dizzying, spit and pre-cum smearing across swollen lips and wet tongues. He twists his fingers deeper into your hair, as if he can consume you through the bowl of your skull. 
Your name is something that tumbles, falls, drips from him, his mouth tilted a fraction of an inch away from yours. Eyes dark, full, a beast that howls for the moon in your eyes. 
He’s going to fuck your brains out on the floor of this rickety-ass trailer. 
Dieter tugs you forward, drags you onto your knees over him as he settles beneath you. Your fingers knock with his in a fight to reach your panties first, to shove them down your hips and thighs, get them to the floor. 
Dieter’s flushed, pupils dark, big hands grappling against the weight of you as he pulls you onto him. You are so aroused, so sunken into the smoke of lust, you go as you are moved, his cock smearing apart your wet pussy. Dieter sits up, eyes locking onto where you’ve nearly become a single creature, and then he hesitates. 
Sanity seems to ring his bell, for just a moment. Without waiting, he sucks two fingers into his mouth, coating them with his spit, and you can see what he’s about to do just before he moves. You shake your head, knees aching from carrying your weight against the flat trailer floor, and sit up off him, your fingers digging into his shoulders.
“Don’t need it,” you mutter before licking into his mouth. He drops his head back to let you sink your tongue between his lips. Both hands wrapped around his jaw, you thumb his earring and he grunts out the side of his mouth. “I want –,”
His big hands settle and it’s like he dropped a thousand pound weight between your ribs. You drop, right onto him, his cock forcibly shoving you apart in a single thrust. Dieter barks out a moan, his hands clutching your spine, teeth going for your shoulder to muffle anything else that threatens to escape him. 
You swear your nerves are on fire.
He always takes his time with you, for your benefit, and his. He can be maddening and incessant and demanding, right up until this part, the part where he could actually hurt you. Right then, he waits. Lets you come to him. Let you take as much as you want and he holds you tight.
But this, this is you taking all you want and then some. 
In the split second you allow for your bodies to recognize the give and the take, the swell and the invasion, you meet his gaze. 
No roles. No games. No landmines. 
Exposure. 
Blistering and brittle.
Safety. 
You curl your toes underneath you, grip his shoulders, and slide up on an inhale. On an exhale, you thrust down and you don’t know who cries out louder. 
Dieter pulls you to him, arm banded around your back, the other to balance as he leans back to meet your downward strokes with his upward thrusts. His fingers pinch the clasp of your bra and the straps slide off your shoulders, your frantic bouncing knocking those emerald cups loose. 
“Oh, yeah, oh fuck yeah.” He mouths at your collarbone, tonguing the sweat that blooms across your skin. Your short huffs have your chest trembling, a shudder disrupting your breath when he uses the blunt edge of his teeth against the soft curve of your breast. His nose against your skin, he turns his head and licks your nipple into his mouth. He sucks, licks, your rapid rise and fall catching your sensitive peak against the tops and bottoms of his teeth. He uses the barest hint of pressure and your back arches. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, repeating that same pattern with his tongue, while his fingers flick your hardened bud. 
You think you’re going to melt, fracture and ooze into this hot pool of pleasure that hums between your legs. 
“Fuck, Dieter,” your own voice is unrecognizable, breathy and high, cut short every time his hips meet yours in a harsh slap, “I can’t –,” 
He rubs up against something truly devastating inside of you and immediately your legs give out. You topple into him, arms around his neck, nose pressed up against his jaw. You feel his overheated skin, a balm, a solidifying force, against your cheek. The whirling inferno in your head soothes. A drop of sweat from his hairline trails down by your eye and you lick it. 
“Make me come, Dieter,” you whisper for him, of him, beg in a way that only he can hear. You nuzzle his earring and he keens. “Please – I need it – n-n-need you.”
Open-mouthed, breath hot, flush down to his chest, he slithers the hand against your back between your warm bodies and finds your clit. Drags his thumb across it as his hips pound up into you – you can’t hear what he says in your ear, the edge you’re dangling over loud and pulsing – and then there’s a softness against your throat.
The white spark between your thighs erupts and you come so hard you scream. A release. Controlled and contained brightness now spilling out everywhere, you can feel it as you soak his lap. It drips and winds down, and it drunkenly slides off you. Finally, you curl into him, a muddled tingle radiating out across your nerves. 
You sink into your skin again and hear him, still whispering, still talking.
“You’re so fucking beautiful when you come it’s okay baby I’ve got you I’ve got you I’m here – I’m gonna – g-gonna –  oh, shit,”
His hips thrust up one more time before a full body shudder yanks his words and the air right out of his mouth. You melt as his cum floods your insides, the warm pulses intoxicating in the place he so forcefully claimed for his own. His shoulders curved towards you, his hand pinches the knot of your spine as if to steady himself, palm scalding against your skin. In your exhaustion, your sweaty forehead falls against his. 
He doesn’t seem to mind.
Seconds mold into minutes, minutes into maybe hours then days. 
Dieter’s trembling elbow finally weakens and with his arm around your back, he tips you both backwards. 
His cock rubs up inside of you in a new way and your cunt clenches involuntarily. You both groan when his cum leaks out of you, squeezed out by the contraction. You shift your hips to lay fully on him, and his cock slides out, but his arm around you remains.
It remains long after your breathing settles, long after the sweat dries and your exposed skin grows cold. The longer you lay together, the more you feel he’s going to start stroking you, touching you in a way that a fuck buddy shouldn’t. But he doesn’t. He keeps you close but doesn’t move. 
The feeling, the ache in your chest. It’s soothed and hastened by the beating of his heart beneath yours, your ear lying flat against his chest. It beats so loudly for you.
For some unfathomable reason, you glance up at the window. It’s dark out, the sun set and gone. For all you know, you two might be the only two people on the entire lot.
“Dieter.” His name sticks in your mouth. “Dieter, I –,”
“Five stars?” 
You blink, lifting your head for the first time in ages, sweat on his skin almost suctioning your ear to his chest. He’s grinning, curls matted and damp against his forehead.
He reaches up to the table behind him and snags that stupid bingo card, along with that packet of shiny gold star stickers.
This feeling, you can contain it. 
For now. 
Smirking down at him, you peel off one of the bigger stars and with your thumb, you press it into the center of his forehead. 
“Five stars, Dieter. Five star dick.” 
His smile widens. 
262 notes · View notes
halsteadlover · 9 months
Text
Under Fire
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*Gif not mine credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Paramedic!Reader.
• Requested by anon: Hey! Could you write an imagine where the reader is a paramedic and one day a person starts shooting at the ambo and Jay is called? Then he would be worried when he sees the reader there.
• Warnings: mention of sex, blood, gunshot, bad writing (yes it’s gonna be a warning from now on).
• Word count: 4289.
• A/N: this is by far one of the ugliest fics ever and honestly I’m even ashamed I posted it. It didn’t turn the way I wanted but I was too lazy and had no time to write it all again so here it is 💀 Sorry for the ppl who expected a good worried!Jay fic 😭 I’m sorry for any mistake too and of course I know all the ‘medical’ staff was probably inaccurate so pls bear with me lol
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“Baby, breakfast is ready!”.
Jay's voice muffled to your ears from the kitchen as you hurriedly got ready for work, super late. You tied your hair into a ponytail, not wanting to waste any more time trying to fix it before running to the kitchen where Jay had just set breakfast on the table.
“I'm late honey I can't eat,” you said frantically, leaning closer to him and kissing him on the lips before stealing a waffle which you popped into your mouth and began to eat as you looked for your car keys.
“Babe you can't go to work without having breakfast,” Jay retorted as he drank his cup of coffee and watched you amused.
“Yeah? And whose fault is it that I’m late?” you asked ironically “Have you seen my keys baby? Damn it… I can't find them anywhere.”
Jay chuckled and there was no need to say he found them as soon as he started to search for them. He was about to hand them to you but suddenly put his hands behind his back. “I want a kiss first.”
You giggled like a little girl and placed your free hand on his face, kissing him passionately, as if it was the first time you'd seen him in ages. No matter how much time passed, Jay managed to have on you the same effect as the first day, and for a moment, lost in your senses, you almost forgot you had to run away to work.
“Mmmh,” he murmured into the kiss, intensifying it as his arm went around your waist, pressing your body further against his.
“Stop…” you muttered between kisses as you giggled “No,” one kiss “That’s not…” another kiss “Fair…” and yet another one. “You’ve already made me late this morning.”
“Baby it's not my fault you're so stunning. You know I can't keep my hands to myself,” he kept kissing you, taking the opportunity to shamelessly squeeze your ass. “You were naked in our bed, you really expected me not to fuck the shit out of you?”.
“Stop, you're making me hot again,” you placed your hands on his chest to push him away, receiving a frown from him. In a moment of distraction you grabbed the keys from his hand and took your bag, before giving him one last sweet kiss and go to the door “See you tonight baby, I love you. Be careful okay?”.
“I love you too princess, text me when you can and be careful too. Don't you even dare come back with even a scratch!”.
But unfortunately, things don’t always go the way we want them to.
Your morning was going well, you were on shift with Sylvie who wasted no time teasing you, between calls, about being late that morning.
“If you're jealous because I'm having hot sex and you're not, just say it blondie,” you retorted laughing, getting from your co-worker a little slap on the back of your head as she kept her eyes on the road while driving the ambo.
“You’re really a bitch you know that? Of course I'm jealous! Do you know how long it's been since I've been with someone? I don't even know what a penis looks like anymore.”
You giggled. “If after every shift you literally fly home to go to sleep, don't complain if you can't find anyone. You need to go out Sylvie, Molly's is always crowded, you'll find someone who can't wait to rail you.”
She burst out laughing. “Rail me? Where did this come from?”.
“I mean… You know… I didn't know the meaning of these words before I met my boyfriend…” you answered and Sylvie let out a fake gag while you dreamily recalled your intense sexual life with Jay.
“You are disgusting,” the blonde replied even though she laughed. Before she could add anything though, there was a call of a shooting with victim and the joyful and playful air disappeared almost instantly.
You were about to text Jay, updating him on the progress of your shift but you mentally cursed as you noticed your cell phone was dead and that’s when you remembered you didn't charge it last night.
You put it back in your pocket, mental noting you’d charge it as soon as you got back to the station.
When you and Sylvie arrived with sirens blaring at the scene where the shooting had taken place, you couldn't help but notice the amount of people there looking on curiously and trying to figure out what was going on. That neighborhood was not the most idyllic and safe, given the unfortunate presence of criminals and drug addicts, and you mentally prayed you could finish as soon as possible since you didn't feel at all calm in that place.
A man in his fifties came running towards you, cell phone in hand and a terrified expression on his face.
“What happened sir? Where’s the victim?” Sylvie asked as you fetched the first aid kit bags.
“This way. There's been a shooting… There's a young man… I don't know if he's still alive.”
The man pointed to a person lying on the ground, immersed in his own blood and at a rough guess he didn't seem to be more than 16 years old. He was just a little boy.
“We'll take care of it from now sir. Thank you for calling us. Now go back in your house and stay safe,” you said and he nodded before storming off and locking himself inside his house along with his family.
You put on your gloves and leaned over the victim. You checked his carotid pulse and breathing. “He’s breathing and there is still a pulse. But it's too weak.”
Sylvie lifted the victim's shirt, revealing the shotgun at stomach level, and spun him on his side for a moment. “There is an exit wound.”
“I'm putting an IV,” you stated before taking the necessary kit while Sylvie controlled the bleeding by dabbing the wound with clean gauze which was soaked in blood in no time. After placing the tourniquet, it was difficult to find an accessible vein due to the copious blood loss but eventually you succeeded.
As you continued to do everything in your power to keep the still unconscious patient alive, you didn't realize all passers-by had left and that a suspicious car was approaching until the sound of a shot broke the silence.
Your heart stopped for an instant.
It all happened so fast and in just few seconds that you didn't even realize what was happening.
It was all so fast but so slow at the same time.
Everything seemed to stop around you, the world started spinning fast and slow at the same time which you didn't even believe was possible. The seconds seemed to have turned into minutes, hours, and in you kept wondering when it would end.
You and Sylvie threw yourselves to cover the victim, but not before a bullet went through your arm causing you to scream in pain. “Fuck!” you exclaimed as an excruciating pain made you bend to the ground for an instant.
“Y/N! Oh my god!” exclaimed Sylvie, rushing towards you regardless of the danger. Your hand covered your wound from where blood gushed and you tried to take a few breaths to try to regain control of yourself. You hadn't been shot at before by now, but damn it hurt like hell.
“I'm fine,” you murmured and when you opened your eyes you saw a woman lying on the ground not far from you. “Shit… Sylvie, go to that woman…”
Sylvie glanced between you and the poor woman lying on the asphalt, not sure what to do. “I am fine. Go! I'll take care of it here!”.
She nodded and grabbed a first aid bag before running to the woman, leaving you with the still unconscious victim. You checked him to make sure he wasn't hit and breathed a sigh of relief when you saw he wasn't.
You called for help on your radio before getting up with no small effort, dragging the victim behind a car, thus keeping you sheltered.
Your heart was pounding and you didn't know what to do, the fear they'd come back to kill you paralyzed you. You leaned against the car, bringing your eyes to the wound on your arm and noticing you were losing more blood than you would’ve expected.
“Shit,” you winched in pain even if the adrenaline rushed through your veins. You decided not to think about it and just treat the patient until help arrived, after all you weren't going to die from a shot in an arm.
You got up from the car and approached the patient, noticing the movement of his chest was no longer regular and that he was struggling to breathe. You took your stethoscope and listened to his chest, hearing crackles and a muffled sound in the right lung.
“Damn it,” you whispered to yourself, taking deep breaths as the pain became more intense and trying to focus solely on the victim and not on the excruciating pain you were feeling. The victim had a pneumothorax and you knew if you didn't treat it right away, you ran the risk of losing him before help even arrived.
You took all the kit needed to aspirate the air from his lung but your hand was shaking too much to be able to proceed. “Come on. You can do it,” you kept telling yourself and breathing deeply. With no little effort you managed to make a small incision and insert the small catheter to allow the air to escape. You listened to his lungs again after a bit with the stethoscope and breathed a sigh of relief when you realized the pulmonary sound was good and he was breathing properly. You fixed the catheter to his chest with a plaster and continued to treat the wound on the abdomen.
He was losing too much blood and if he hadn't gone to the hospital immediately he would’ve died there in front of you.
Your forehead was drenched in sweat, your arms and body were giving up as you noticed in the distance Sylvie giving a CPR to the woman who had presumably also been shot.
You heard the sound of sirens of the police and of another ambulance in the distance and for the first time in the last half hour your heart started properly beating again.
Jay, meanwhile, didn't have a clue what was going on, that you'd been shot, rushed to the hospital, or he’d completely lose his mind.
His day, unlike yours, was going on normally and no new cases had turned up so he spent the morning sorting through paperwork and old reports that were still incomplete.
He checked his cell phone to see if you'd answered him but still nothing. The last time he knew about you was when he saw you walk out the door of the apartment you shared and he couldn't stop the veil of anxiety that had passed through him. He knew he was exaggerating, as you were most likely having a busy morning and for this reason you hadn’t reached out to him.
He tried to keep his mind at bay, to stay calm and tell himself everything would be fine, that you were okay and he’d hear from you soon.
But when he saw Sylvie's name on the screen as his cell phone rang, he knew immediately that something wasn’t right and the slight feeling of anxiety was replaced by a real vice in his stomach.
“Sylvie? What happened? Is my girlfriend okay?” he asked as soon as he answered the call, without even giving her time to say anything. He knew something was up and didn’t want to waist time.
“Jay…” she breathed out, her voice clearly shaking but Jay couldn't care less.
“Sylvie tell me immediately what the hell happened. Where’s Y/N? Is she okay?” he ordered in a harsh and hostile tone, more than he ever wanted to.
“We are at Med's and…”
That was all it took for him to go crazy and not understand anything anymore.
Before she could finish her sentence he had already hung up the phone and, without even notifying his boss, he exited the unit at lightning speed, under the gaze of his worried and astonished teammates.
His mind kept repeating the last words spoken by Sylvie and never as in that moment did he feel like the world completely collapsed on him. He hadn't even asked what happened, whether you were okay or not, and as he drove like a madman through the streets of Chicago, he kept praying, praying and praying.
“God please let her be okay,” he kept muttering to himself, his heart pounding so hard in his chest he felt like it was going to stop at any moment. He tried to call you several times but each time it directed him to your voicemail. “Fuck!” he had exclaimed hitting the steering wheel in frustration and after throwing the cell phone on the passenger seat, without caring whether it broke or not.
You had to be okay, it couldn't have been otherwise. You had to be okay because you had to spend the rest of your life with him, he had to marry you, start a family with you, raise your children, maybe have pets, and to do that you had to feel good.
Jay knew that your job, as well as his, could be dangerous, but that didn't make the anxiety any less oppressive, the fear of losing you any less crippling.
It might seem like an exaggeration but he couldn't live without you, he couldn't imagine a life in which you weren't there, he couldn't imagine coming home and not finding you there preparing dinner with so much care and love, he couldn't imagine coming home and not finding you walking barefoot, the music blasting while you danced and sang as you cleaned the house, he couldn't imagine waking up in the morning and not feeling your body against his, the scent of your hair entering his nostrils, your arms holding him preventing him from getting up to go to work when you weren't on shift.
“No, no, no, no, no,” he babbled not wanting to even think about this possibility as he darted through the streets without even bothering to stop at red lights and risking causing accidents at least a couple of times.
When he got to the hospital he immediately ran towards the nurses' station, failing even to realize that Maggie was already talking to a patient.
“Maggie where is Y/N? Is she fine?” he asked frantically getting a glare from the gentleman who was previously talking to Maggie. She shot an apologetic look at the man and nodded to the room you were in before giving her attention back to the patient.
Jay ran towards the room and without even thinking twice pulled the curtain away, an expression of pure fear and concern on his face. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw you were lying on the crib, alive.
“Jay!” you exclaimed, not expecting to find your boyfriend in front of you in the hospital, lifting yourself up as if to reach him.
“Y/N stay still,” Connor admonished you, who was tending your wound.
“Oh thank God,” Jay finally managed to calm down and finally breathe again. He walked over to you and gently grabbed your face with his still trembling hands, leaving a kiss on your forehead. It lasted longer than it should’ve but Jay didn't care, he just wanted to savor the moment, smell the scent of your hair, your skin, and realize you were really there in front of him, that you hadn't left him.
“Halstead, you shouldn't be here,” Connor commented without looking up from the bullet hole in your arm.
“Shut up Rhodes, just focus about treating her,” Jay retorted and the serious tone in which he said it caused both you and Connor to chuckle but as soon as you looked at him you stopped immediately, noticing the expression of pain and concern with which he was looking at you.
“What happened baby? My God…” he stroked your face, your hair, “Why didn't you call me? What did they do to you?”. His eyes moved from your features to your arm and he immediately knew it was a bullet hole. He had assumed that you’d been pushed, maybe fallen somewhere, but he hadn't thought it was a shot at all.
Anxiety and worry were quickly replaced by anger and rage and in that precise moment he promised himself he’d make the bastard who had done this to you, who had dared to hurt you, pay.
“I told Sylvie not to call you…” you started talking, not answering Jay's questions but he cut you off, “Y/N please… I'm mad enough you didn't call me and I had to hear from your colleague you ended up in the hospital, don’t even think about making jokes right now.”
“Sorry Jay, it's just… You were at work and I didn't want to worry you. I'm fine as you can see and Connor will fix me.”
“You're not fine,” Connor intervened, glancing at you before continuing to treat the wound “If you hadn't continued to treat the victim your arm wouldn't be in so bad shape, the bullet had gone too deep. But luckily I'm very good at my job.”
If looks could kill, you should’ve been petrified after Jay's glare.
“Connor, you really don't know when to shut your mouth, do you?”.
“Y/N,” Jay spoke up “I'm not playing and I'm about to lose my mind. Tell me what the hell happened.”
You sighed, looking down at your belly as you recalled those moments of terror that seemed to have happened not long ago but at the same time, so long ago.
Jay noticed the way your free hand was shaking slightly and he felt guilty for raising his voice after the traumatic event you had suffered earlier that morning. “Sorry baby,” he said, caressing your cheeks and then giving you another soft kiss on your forehead. He held you as best he could, your head level with his stomach as he continued to stroke your hair, your cheeks, trying to calm you down. It was his way of saying he was there, that you were safe and never like then did you mentally thank Sylvie for calling him.
“It’s okay, I’m here now. Everything will be okay baby.”
God only knew how terrified you were, how afraid you were of dying, never seeing the love of your life again, never hugging him again and feeling him holding you, cradling and caressing you… Shit, this was one of the best feelings you ever had the pleasure of trying in your life.
You kept thinking over and over of those scary moments, the sound of those gunshots you knew would echo in your mind for far too long. No manual, no course would’ve ever prepared you for all this, you knew that being a paramedic would’ve taken you to places where danger was around the corner, but the adrenaline, the fear, that terror… No one would’ve ever been able to preparing for this.
You didn't even realize Connor had finished bandaging your wound until you saw with the corner of your eye he was getting up and collecting all the dirty gauze and other tools he had used. “I can't stress enough about the fact you don't have to exert yourself. You have to rest for at least a week, after that you can do some office work, but no work on the field until you’ll be able to move your arm.”
“Trust me she won’t. Thanks Rhodes,” Jay replied and Connor gave him a smile, then patted him on the shoulder with an ungloved hand.
“I'll leave you two alone.”
You tried to move you arm a bit but it was still numb from the local anesthetic. Jay sat on the edge of the bed, taking your free hand and intertwining his fingers with yours as his thumb stroked your back.
“You made me worry to death you know? I think I've died and risen a thousand times in the last hour.” He was the one who spoke first, but his tone was soft and reassuring. His free hand stroked your face, tucking a strand of hair that had escaped your ponytail, behind your ear.
“I'm so sorry Jay,” you mumbled back, feeling awfully guilty to see him like this, features contracted up with concern, eyes shining.
“You don't have to apologize, I'm just so happy you're okay,” he hugged you and you returned that hug, with your free arm. “God Y/N, I wouldn't have known what to do without you. I've never been so scared as today...” he kept talking “Don't ever do this to me again.”
“I was so scared Jay… I…” you stammered, trying to swallow the lump in your throat “I thought I'd never see you again…”
“Shh, it's okay. I'm here now and you're safe, I won't let anyone hurt you anymore,” he tried to calm you down even if he was feeling a storm inside. He was angry, furious, because he wasn't there to protect you, because if he had the person responsible in his hands he would’ve killed them with his bare hands, because he hated seeing you like that, scared, trembling in his arms. And he wanted to cry, cry so hard, because the fear he'd had of losing you was paralyzing.
Jay had never been in a situation where he’d even think you weren't next to him. To him it was like you were a superhero, immortal, that one way or another you'd always come back to him and he had taking all of this for granted. Reality had hit him full blown and left him breathless, making him lose the ground under his feet, the world collapsing around him and made him understand it wasn't like this, that fate was sometimes a bastard and that only event made him realize how important you were to him. Maybe even more than he could have ever imagined.
How much he loved you, for goodness sake, it was overwhelming. You were his whole world, and however absurd, ridiculous, cheesy, or over the top that might seem, Jay really couldn't live without you. It was a phrase he had told you so many times but in that particular absurd event it took on an even deeper and more real meaning and he really, really couldn't exist in a world where you weren't by his side.
And he didn't care how cheesy any of that sounded, it was the plain, simple, unequivocal truth.
“Baby you're choking me,” you muttered as he began to hold you so tight it literally blocked your breath. Your voice brought him back to reality, “Shit. Sorry, baby I didn't realize it,” he said giving you a kiss on the lips and you smiled at him, “It's okay.”
“Are you okay? Do you need something?”.
You shook your head, your lids suddenly feeling heavy. “No, just some rest.”
Jay smiled sweetly, looking at you with so much love and affection. “I know baby, I know. As soon as they prepare the discharge documents, I'll take you home and you can rest as long as you want.”
You nodded and the tender expression on your face made his heart explode. Had he already said how much he fucking loved you? “You'll stay with me right? I need you.”
“Do you really think I would’ve left you alone knowing what you've been through? I'll take the rest of the day off and, since I have a lot of accumulated vacation days, I’ll take the next few weeks as well.”
You smiled faintly. You didn’t want him to not go to work and felt selfish but God, you needed him so badly so you didn’t even complain. “Thank you love.”
“Do you feel like telling me what happened?” Jay asked, now impatient. You told him everything from how you were treating the victim, to the shooting and until help arrived. It goes without saying how furious Jay was when you finished speaking and how he looked ready to smash something against the walls.
“It's over baby, I'm really fine now, luckily they hit me on the arm and not elsewhere where it could’ve been so much worse. I'll get better soon, you know how these things go,” you tried to reassure him, placing your hand on his face and stroking his skin, a gesture that made him relax a little. “Please don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad Y/N, I’m furious. You are the most precious thing in my life and I’d kill anyone for even touch a strand of your hair in the wrong way. Knowing you were there alone, that you couldn't defend yourself, someone dared to hurt you… I can’t even explain the rage I’m feeling right now,” he replied, the tone of low voice as your words kept echoing in his mind. “I'm so sorry my baby,” he caressed your face “My precious princess. I’m so sorry for not being there and failing to protect you. It shouldn't have happened, especially not to you. If something…”
“No love no,” you interrupted him, not letting him finish that sentence “Let's not think about that. I'm here now, you're here with me and that's all that matters, okay?”.
“I know, I know,” he replied. But they’ll still have to pay for what they did to you.
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toxophilitis · 3 months
Text
Horny Peeping Sister cont
Chapter 7
The next week after her piano lesson, Becky was walking home down a dark alley, whistling her favorite piece, when suddenly a man stepped out of the shadows and grabbed her by the arm. She started to struggle and cry out when his voice fought its way through her terror and instantly calmed her.
“Easy Becky, it’s me, shhh!”
“Daddy!” she gasped, her heart at her throat. “God, you scared me to death!”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to, ahhh, I guess I didn’t think.” Becky now could see that her father had on the black outfit he now wore whenever they went out spying on people. He’d taken to voyeurism very quickly and Becky was glad for that. She’d gotten some very good fucks out of her old man while watching other men and women getting it on. “What are you doing here?” Becky whispered. “I thought maybe we could go out for awhile,” Jim replied. “But what about mom? She’s home!”
“I told her I was going to pick you up from your lesson and take you to the library. She doesn’t suspect a thing, I’m sure. Come on, Beck,” he whined, “let’s go find a good one and have a little fun.” Becky wanted to say no to punish her father for having frightened her so badly but she just couldn’t. It had been a couple of days since she had been fucked and a couple more than that since she’d been out peeking so she was hot for it. Her stern expression finally broke and she took her waiting father by the hand. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s see what we can find.” As quietly as ever, they slipped up and down the blocks and sometimes even between the houses. Things seemed unusually quiet and they were about to give up when a lighted window up ahead of them drew them like moths to a flame. “That’s Mike’s house,” Jim said, naming one of his co-workers. “Oh, I can’t wait to see him fucking Diane! I swear, if they weren’t married, I might go for that little piece myself!”
“Shhh,” Becky cautioned, worried her father’s excitement might give them away. They quickly moved toward the window, Jim hot to get a look at his friend and his wife fucking their brains out. But when they arrived near the bright window, Jim got quite a shock. Diane was there all right, but the man humping betweeen her golden thighs was no one he had ever seen before! “She’s cheatin’ on him!” Jim gasped. “I don’t believe it!” It didn’t matter to Becky that the couple on the old-fashioned four-poster bed was not man and wife. All she cared about was the fucking being hot to watch. Carefully she opened the gate to their backyard and led her babbling father closer to the fucking action than they had ever ventured before. “Quiet Dad, they might hear you,” she whispered, crouching down beside a potted plant. “And get down!” The bedroom had a sliding glass door that led out onto the patio that Becky and her father were crouching on. The drapes were open completely and Becky could see all of the plushly furnished bedroom and the wanton fucking taking place there. With a lusty sigh she settled down to enjoy the show. The woman in the house, Diane, was a tall honey-blonde, her hair falling nearly to her waist. Right now she was on her back with her feet spread and pointed toward the open window while a dark-haired man humped mightily between her legs. Becky watched his ass bob up and down and creamed. Jim stared at the fucking couple like he had never seen people fucking before. Diane had always been one of his fantasy girls, but he had always imagined her to be beyond reproach and totally unobtainable. She and Mike seemed devoted to one another and now, as he realized how wrong he’d been, his cock ached for what he might have had. Becky was stretched out on her stomach on the grass in front of the window and Jim joined her.
He pulled her into his arms and held her tight against him, his cock against her ass, as they undulated together and watched the man pounding between the blonde’s bent legs. Becky bounced her ass back against her father’s cock. She could already feel that it was very hard and so she mashed herself against it, teasing him. Jim reached around his little girl and felt her titties. She had on a light jacket and he unzipped it slowly, hoping that the people inside wouldn’t hear it. But he needn’t have worried. They were fucking so hard they wouldn’t have heard anything short of a nuclear explosion. Then, opening the middle few buttons of her blouse, Jim at last reached the bare skin of his daughter’s tits. “Where’s your bra?” he whispered. “Who needs it? It just gets in the way.” Jim laughed at her bluntness and cupped her little titties. The nipples were very pointed, partly from what she was watching and partly from being exposed to the cool night air. Jim took them between his thumbs and forefingers and gave them each a little pinch. As always, her tits were very sensitive, and Becky wiggled back against her dad with more vigor than before. The shaft of his hard-on ran right along the crack of her ass and Becky danced against it.  Inside the house, Diane lifted her upper body, holding herself up on her bent elbows. The man continued to hump between her bent knees and she took hold of his face and pulled it to hers, kissing him hungrily.  For the first time Becky got a good look at the woman’s face and saw that she was very beautiful. Her hair framed her perfect features and her large, luminous eyes made her look rather exotic. Becky could understand her father’s lust for Diane. Just looking at her even made Becky feel a little funny and she moaned. Jim’s fingers moved down, opening her clothes the rest of the way. Then he shoved her sticky panties away from the flowing gash of her pussy and buried both of his hands there. He shoved one finger from each hand into the hole of her cunt and fucked them in and out like pistons, one always inside her.  Becky couldn’t stay still while her father finger-fucked her this way.  She humped and rolled her hips, increasing the friction his fingers gave her cunt. The night air tickled the hairs of her pussy and she shivered when her warm cream rolled out and met the cool breeze, chilling the hot meat of her cunt. Jim grunted against the side of her neck. As he filled and refilled his daughter’s pussy, his eyes never left his friend’s wife and the man fucking her so mightily. Diane had broken off their steamy kiss and her head had lolled back, her face contorted with fuck-lust and partially covered with her long, silky hair. How Jim wished he could wrap some of that hair around the throbbing shaft of his prick and jack himself off with it! At that thought, he nuzzled his face into Becky’s hair deeper than before. He filled himself with the scent of her and it turned him on like crazy.  If he couldn’t have Diane, he could have his own daughter and Jim knew that fucking his own flesh and blood was a thousand times more thrilling than fucking anyone else.
Wet, sticky sounds came from between his little girl’s legs as his fingers continued to trench out her juicy cunt. The scent of her pussy surrounded them like a cloud and Jim inhaled deeply, getting high on the luscious aroma of teenaged pussy. His head swam with it. The smell of her cunt made his mouth water and Jim knew that he had to taste, as well as touch, her juicy young cunt. He gave her pussy a couple more spine-tingling jabs and then pulled his fingers free from her clasping pussy-walls. “Wha-?” Becky mumbled.
“Shhh, turn around, I want to eat you,” Jim whispered, helping her into the position he had in mind. Becky squirmed around until her head was pointing toward the window. Her dad then removed one of her shoes and pulled her jeans down and off that leg, leaving them tangled around her other knee. Her pussy sizzled right in front of his open, ogling eyes and he dove head-first right into its creamy depths.
Becky arched up when her father’s lips hit the open lips of her pussy.  Her head tipped way back and she found that she could still see Diane and her fuck-partner only now they were upside down! The picture almost made Becky laugh except that her father plunged his tongue into her pussy deeply and changed her emotion from amusement to pure fuck-lust.  “Ohhh,” she sighed, opening her legs as wide as she could and assuming the same sexy position Diane was in. While in the house the man between the woman’s legs, his cock filling her cunt, out in the yard the man filled the woman with his tongue, his head bobbing between her thighs.  Jim slurped down all his daughter’s juice greedily, as if he had to get all that he could tonight because tomorrow might never come. Becky humped her ass up out of the damp grass and fed her dripping pussy-meat to her father. She grabbed two big handfuls of his hair and used his head for leverage as she bounced around, now and then still catching a glimpse of what was happening inside the bedroom. Diane leaned forward and so did the man who was fucking her. They embraced and the man pulled her tighter to him, making her sit up flat on her ass.
As Becky watched, she saw them entwine their legs until they were both sitting up and facing each other, his cock apparently still inside of her cunt. “Wow,” she gasped, “that was neat!” Jim looked up over the fuzz of her cunt to see what she was looking at. To his surprise he now saw the back of the man with Diane’s legs around his ass and her pretty face peeking over his shoulder. Neither of them could move much but, from the look of ecstasy on Diane’s face, Jim knew that their new fucking position was pleasing her plenty. Then he flicked his eyes back down and threw himself into the task at hand, eating his daughter out.  He curled his tongue into a long tube and thrust into her pussy with it, opening her up like magic. Then he began a series of long, straight fuck-strokes, probing her depths with the soft, slimy length of his rigid tongue. Becky bucked and writhed, her fingers pulling hard at his hair and her nails scraping at his scalp. She made his face bob around between her legs, his nose involuntarily being ground against her upstanding clit. But Jim didn’t mind the slight discomfort his little girl’s lust brought to him. He was glad to let her have her fun. He snorted her smelly juices and gulped them down by the mouthful, loving every tasty minute of this cunt-lapping. As Jim delved his tongue far inside his daughter, scooping out helping after helping of her tasty juices, he rolled his own hips from side to side, his hard-on trapped beneath his body. It was uncomfortable to have to lay on top of such a swollen piece of cock-meat, but the man endured, more interested in his daughter’s pleasure than his own.
“Oh, Daddy, ohhh, ohhh!” Becky whimpered. “You do that sooo goood!”
Jim lapped the flat of his tongue up and down over her entire cuntal area. The tip of his tongue touched the puckered hole of Becky’s ass and he was reminded of how well she had taken his cock when he had first fucked her ass a few days ago. In appreciation he tickled that rough little dent with his tongue tip and then again lapped all the way up her creamy gash until his tongue reached the pulsing button of her clitty. He pulled her clit in between his lips and drew it out long and taut. Then he beat the end of it with the end of his tongue, loving the way Becky bucked and grunted. His hands were on either side of his munching face, keeping the girl’s legs spread as far apart as possible, giving himself plenty of room to work. Slurping noisily, Jim glanced over Becky’s cunt-bush to check out the action inside the house. Just as he looked up, he saw the man lean back and take Diane with him, guiding her up onto his prick. With a look of extreme fuck-lust, Diane took her perch on top of him, his cock securely buried in her pussy, like a queen to her throne. Better than ever her full, mature body was displayed for Jim’s hot eyes. Her curves were the lush, padded curves of a grown woman. She rolled her hips slowly, fucking at him as she looked down right into his eyes with heavy-lidded horniness. Jim watched her tits sway as she fucked that lucky man. More turned on than ever, his cock pounding against the wet grass, he reached forward and took hold of Becky’s young tits. He kept his eyes on Diane, imagining it was her full set of titties that he had his fingers stretched around. His breathing grew heavy and thick and the jets of air escaped his nostrils and tickled Becky’s clit, making her squirm with pleasure.  Her father’s tongue was driving Becky out of her mind. Again she arched herself up, giving him more of her pussy and allowing her to take an upside-down look at what Diane was up to.
The sight of the perfect woman moving on top of the man’s cock with such sensuous grace made Becky green with envy. She couldn’t wait for her own young body to finish developing. “Ummm, fuck her,” Becky spat, the top of her head in the moist grass as she moved with Diane, jerking her cunt downward at the same speed. “Fuck him good!”
The growling sound of his daughter’s lewd commands thrilled Jim. He zig-zagged his tongue up through her open cuntal crack, touching her sizzling skin only lightly and feeling the way she shuddered with mounting joy. He intended to toy with her a little more and then, when Becky couldn’t stand it anymore, he wanted to bring her off like never before. Becky arched her body, feeding her dad her pussy while she watched Diane give the other man her cunt. When Jim’s hands left her tits and went back down to hold her legs apart, Becky grabbed her own titties, rolling and pinching and tweaking them, making herself soar higher with her incredible fuck-lust. “Oh, Daddy! Daddy!” she cried, her voice rather shrill in the empty night air. Jim’s pulse pounded in his ears as he shoved his tongue deep into Becky’s cunt and then wiggled it around inside of her. He made his tongue flutter into her cunt-tunnel and then run around her clit, touching her everywhere that mattered as he brought her closer and closer to her beloved orgasm.  Becky whimpered, her body jerking violently. Her hands left her father’s head and instead grasped the grass beside her jumping ass, ripping it out by the roots in big, wet clumps. She no longer saw Diane, she no longer saw anything except her own relief, which got closer and closer with each thrust of her father’s fucking tongue. “Oh!  Oh! Ohhh!” she grunted, her words louder than ever before.
Jim jammed her full of tongue one last time and then felt her go rigid beneath him. Becky let out a blood-curdling scream, but Jim ignored it, pumping her pussy with his tongue with a quick, deep determination that kept her creaming and screaming for several endless seconds.
“Daddy! Daddy!” she cried, her young body bucking and jumping. “Ohhh!”
Jim was in the groove with her orgasm, enjoying it with her until he looked up into Diane’s bedroom. All the fucking there had stopped and Diane and her partner were looking around themselves, Becky’s screams having broken into even their intense fucking trance. Jim’s heart nearly stopped as Diane bounded off the bed and looked out her large window. Fortunately for him and Becky the difference in the light was so extreme she still couldn’t see them. Jim saw her turn back to the man and say something and, not one to take chances, Jim pulled himself up, gathering the still-whimpering Becky up into his arms. “Daddy, wha...where...ummm,” Becky moaned as he lifted her up and ran with her toward the gate, her loosened pants dangling down from her half-naked body. As he let the out the gate, Jim turned around to see an outside light come on and Diane’s fucking partner stepped out into the backyard, his cock still at half mast. Jim watched him scan the yard and then stride out into the grass. With Becky still cooing and sighing in his arms, Jim watched in horror as the young man bent down and picked up something, straightening up and holding Becky’s forgotten tennis shoe in one hand. “Jesus!” Jim sighed, his heart pounding as he turned and ran down the alley as fast as he could, the burden of his daughter heavier than ever in his arms.
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