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#fictional smut
fictionalmenmistress · 2 days ago
This is not intended to be a personal attack, this is just a prefference post to ask if anyone feels this too...?
Alt. title: how to dirtytalk or communicate in the bedroom and sound sexy into it, not dumb and unspecific about it.
Am I the only one grammatically and linguistically turned OFF every time you're reading a smut fic, and when things get hot... all of a sudden, people stop using "I" or "It" or proper ways to express sense of self in first person, or normal ways to starting a statement. I see this happen ALL THE TIME. And its become a lowkey pet-peeve of mine... I wish I can see someone not doing this.
Like, when writers have their characters do stuff like this when they get fiesty:
• "What is it, Samantha?" He asked, lust filling his eyes as he slowed down. "Hurts, Leo!" She admitted.
(Instead of "it hurts, Leo!" While somehow, person A: 'Leo', could articulate just fine.)
• "Want you to cum."
(Pls who's saying this? A frat college f-boy named Rick? *no offence to any guys named Rick*)
• "What do you want?" She asked. "Wanna put it in." He said.
(PUT WHAT IN?? WHERE?? WHOMST?? SAY IT, COWARD!! She asked what you want for crying out loud. Use your big boy words.)
• "Need break."
(We're using texting simplifaction in speaking dialogue now I guess.)
• "Want to put whole ____ in your pretty ____"
(Again, sounds like a college f-boy who's probably not very bright and thinks he's the hottest stuff.)
Like, no one ditches their normal speech like this during s*x. And if they do talk differently for the mood or sensations, its not like this. I'm pretty darn sure. We aren't cavemen, and s*x doesn't take away our ability to say "I" or usual sentence openers we'd use literally in the fic FIVE SECONDS BEFORE THINGS WERE STEAMY.
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PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS SACRED AND LOGICAL, PLEASE. NO one who was using proper english and grammar right before, will suddenly talk, or dirty talk like this during foreplay. If some dude tried pulling this, I'd straight leave and not speak to him again. It sounds so... dumbed down. Kills the intimacy. Maybe its just me, I know we all have our preferences. Hey, maybe you're into that, and no shame on you at all. If you're into it, own it baby. It just... ruins the mood for me in every smut or nsfw fic I read. Its amusing to me, makes me laugh at how silly it sounds all of a sudden.
Like... it sounds HOTTER, more INTIMATE, more REAL, when you just say:
• "I WANT you so BAD!"
(YOU want them, and you're making that clear. You're owning the moment. You're in it to win it.)
• "I need you..."
(Again, showing initiative. You want this. You aren't afraid of saying "I want".)
• "It hurts! It hurts... s-slow down!"
(Instinctually, when you are overwhelmed or feel pain, you're going to revert to instincutal speech patterns. That means, proper speech. "It hurts." You're being serious. Not just "hurts." You want to be direct.)
• "Ahhhh I love you so... so m-much..."
(instead of: love you... so... m-much) again, it shows that you are speaking, that you are owning what you are saying. You love them, don't you? You want this. So say "I want this." Not, "Want this."
So much better. Not to be a demanding switch/dominant... buuuut... use proper sentence openers, pretty pretty please. It improves writing. It improves dialogue.
It only makes sense for sentences in smut scenes to be broken down like this, if either they are literally gasping for breath between making out, or mid-org*sm and unable to articulate proper words.
Does anyone feel the same way? Also, I hope this clarified or helped someone in some way. Sorry for the random writing tangent.🖤
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myhiddenspot · 4 days ago
Intoxication- Unspecified Series (Pt. 1)
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Title: Intoxication
Pairing: Unspecified!Male X Female!Reader
Requested: No
Word Count: 847 words
Warning(s): fingering, multiple orgasms, no plot, smut
Summary: It's a moment of bliss. The moment before being shoved off the deep end. And (Y/n) was happy to jump... as long as it was for him.
Author's Note: Masterlist here! The fandoms I write for here! Information for requests here!
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I wish that I knew what exactly led me here... but I don't think there'd be an ounce of regret even if I remembered.
My naked back pressed against his clothed chest, both of us leaning against the wall behind the bed. The tension could've been cut by a blade.
I was covered by a thin sheen of sweat. Every time he let out a breath, I felt it. It made me shiver. My thighs were spread, resting on his. His hands ran across my body. He would reach down and circle my clit with his finger.
I was intoxicated by him. Every part of him. His touch, the breath that swept over my neck and breasts, the small chuckles and dirty comments in my ear. Everything had overwhelmed me to the point where I was willing to surrender everything to him.
I think that he enjoyed it. He enjoyed watching me react. He enjoyed breaking me down to my barriers, seeing me in my purest and weakest form.
I whined as he moved his finger away from my clit. It felt like he had been pushing to the edge a thousand times and had just pulled me back. He chuckled and started to kiss and nibble at the skin on my neck.
"So needy," he said into my ear. "Do you want to know what's about to happen?"
I moaned quietly as he continued running his hands over every part of my body. I gasped when he grabbed and pulled on my nipples. I nodded at him.
"Speak to me," he mumbled.
"Please," I begged. "Tell me what you're going to do."
"I'm going to make you unravel so many times that you can't think of anything other than my name."
I bit my lip as he spoke. I couldn't tell if this sounded like heaven or hell. After another tug on my nipples, he started gliding his hands down my body.
One of his hands rested on my thigh as the other moved in between my legs. I let out a sound that was somewhere between a moan and a gasp as his fingers glided over my clit. My back arched slightly against his chest.
I bit my lip and looked down so I could watch his hand move. His finger rubbed circles on my clit. He sucked on my neck, making as many marks as he could.
"Look at you," he spoke directly into my ear. "You're just so needy for me."
I nodded, moaning again as I saw his fingers starting to glisten from my arousal. He started rubbing faster. I rolled my hips up into his hand.
"My pretty girl," he mumbled. I leaned my head back on his shoulder, letting out a small, distracted chuckle.
My moans were getting more dramatic as he continued to kiss my neck and rub my clit. I bit my lip.
"Are you gonna cum?"
I tried to nod but I was more focused on rolling my hips into his hand. I licked my lips. I stammered out what may have been nonsense before my back arched against him. I continued whining and panting into his ear as I came. My muscles felt tight and I almost felt my breath getting knocked out of me.
He didn't let me rest. His hand continued the circles on my clit. I whimpered. My arms moved wildly. I wasn't sure if I wanted to push his arm away or pull him closer.
I gasped when I felt him using his other hand near my entrance.
"Do you want it," he asked. "Want me to finger you so you can cum again?"
"Yes," I said.
He slid two fingers into me. He moved his fingers slowly, trying to tease me. I moved to grab his legs. My nails dug into his pant leg and hissed at the feeling.
"F-faster," I begged, rolling my hips to his hand again.
"As you wish."
It was a difference between night and day. His fingers moved in and out as fast as possible. I looked down to watch how wet I was. The sounds were pornographic. I would've been embarrassed if I wasn't so caught up in my pleasure.
"Fuck," I moaned, squeezing my eyes shut.
"Play with your tits," he almost grunted into my ear before sucking harshly on my neck again.
I reached up, tugging on my nipples. I rolled them between my fingertips. I could tell he was watching closely because of how he was moaning in response to me.
"God, I need you to cum," he growled. "Do it. Fucking cum. Now."
I gave up trying to speak as my back arched. My head lolled back, my eyes rolling backward. I started letting out a string of curses and his name as I started shaking with pleasure. I let out one more shout as I started coming down from my high.
His hands stopped touching me. I let myself relax into his arms with a tired smile.
"Don't get too comfortable... I'm not anywhere near done with you yet."
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Loaded Gun [Tyler Rake x Reader] - PART 4
Pairing: Tyler Rake (Extraction) x Reader
Warnings: Swearing and Violence
Word Count: 1.1k
Summary: Falling is never easy, but sometimes one's gotta fall to rise.
Taglist: @darklydeliciousdesires @chickensarentcheap (If you want to be added, shoot me a DM or ask! :))
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
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You know those moments in movies, where everything slows down and things shift into focus that were previously unclear to the eye?
That’s bullshit, doesn’t happen in real life and never will, even when you’re staring death right in the eye. You were painfully aware of your vulnerable position, your vest not much protection against a sniper’s bullet, the neckline of it digging into the back of your neck, fibers drenched in sweat and blood and the situation didn’t sit right with you at all.
What happened to working alone? Never trusting anyone? Doing what you have to for the money, without sympathy? This damned job took all those things, first making you doubt them and then shoving them back in your face at every opportunity - making every hair on your body rise, bile in the back of your throat like a wounded animal.
But still here you were, climbing that bus to protect your target, trusting another mercenary to have the better trigger finger. “I really am fucking nuts…” you muttered to yourself and rose to your knees, out of sight for everyone on the bridge but visible from higher positions.
You were almost tempted to close your eyes and spread your arms, completing the stupid movie narrative but the rational part of your brain screamed no before your reckless intuition could take over.
Eyes narrowed against the bright midday sun, you wondered briefly what took the fucker so long, all morning they were hot as hell to shoot you but now they hesitated? Stupid foreshadowing mind… just as the thought crossed your mind, the shot rang out and your eyes did finally close on their own accord.
Only it wasn’t one shot, there were two.
One hitting its mark straight between the eyes, the other slamming into the side of your right leg, tearing your flesh apart and making you cry out. Falling backwards, off the vehicle you had been kneeling on, you crashed onto the roof of the car wedged into its side. You shook your head against the pain, craning your neck back, towards the sound of the chopper taking off and a smile took over your features, they had made it. The chopper could finally leave…
You must’ve blacked out for a few seconds as gunshots startled you, sounding out entirely too close to your position. A broad shadow fell over your bloodied form and you squinted your unfocussed eyes against the contrast.
“Not the nicest place to bathe in the sun.” he grunted out and pulled you from the car’s roof gingerly, placing his left arm around your upper body to stabilize you. A pained cry escaped your lips at your leg touching the floor, your arms grabbed for support around his back and clawed into his shirt and vest tightly.
He glanced up from your form as more shots were fired, the men apparently even more enraged after the helicopter had left, taking their target with it. The end of the bridge was too far for you two to make it in time with the opposing force moving in so quickly.
Herded to the edge of the bridge, Rake fired shot after shot, trying to fend off everyone trying to get to you, shielding your form with his body.
Your head lolled back momentarily, the blood loss getting the better of you, your gaze dropping over the masonry of the bridge to the waters below. It wasn’t the long drop or turbulent stream that caught your eye, but the ship that was about to cross under the bridge, it’s hull filled with what you seriously hoped was straw.
Your fingers dug into Rake’s back, trying to get his attention, the window of opportunity closing rapidly. Although your head pounded like a motherfucker, you nodded over the banister. His gaze followed yours.
“Are you fucking serious?” he scowled, heaving your body tighter against him as if to prevent you from jumping.
“Do you have a better plan, then?” you shot back, your eyes fleeting to the men weaving their way through to your position.
“We’ll die, don’t you see the drop?!” he seemed seriously bewildered at the idea, but you came so far, you weren’t leaving him behind, not that you could in your state.
Glancing down to gauge the position of the ship, you shuffled backwards and swiftly drew your arms back, hooking them under his shoulders instead and threw yourself back as hard as you could. Your leg almost made you pass out but the force was enough to tip your balance and as you felt your own body going over the banister, you wrapped your legs around his torso, effectively taking him down with you.
His arms grabbed onto your body impossibly hard, holding you both together tightly while the warm air whizzed past your forms. The lump of two battered, worn humans fell like a rock but wondrously managed to land exactly where you had intended.
Landing was by no far cushy, though, the sheer mass of you two crashing hard into the ship’s hull. Fortunately for you, the straw was packed tighter at the bottom and caught your fall better than smashing straight through to the bottom of the ship. In the air, Rake had managed to roll you so he’d be the first to land, still gripping your body tight, one arm pressing your head against his chest and curling around it, so you didn’t break your necks.
Neither of you saw the confused faces poking over the edge of the bridge before they began cheering, none of them even taking a chance in your survival.
A safe distance away, Amir Asif lowered his binoculars after seeing the two mercenaries fall to their death, the cheery voices via the phone held to his side confirming that the pair had fallen into the river badly wounded. His men declared proudly that they shot them, causing the fall, no doubt in their tone. But he wasn’t Bangladesh’s number one drug lord for any reason.
“I want to see their bodies.” he proclaimed to no one in particular, turning his back to the smoking bridge and carnage in his own city to retreat to the comfort of his waiting car.
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A/N: Couldn't leave you hanging after the last one and as this is fairly short, here ya go. :)
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Loaded Gun [Tyler Rake x Reader] - PART 3
Pairing: Tyler Rake (Extraction) x Reader
Warnings: Swearing and Violence
Word Count: 2.3k
Summary: Crossing a bridge sounds easier than it is, trust me.
Taglist: @darklydeliciousdesires @chickensarentcheap (If you want to be added, shoot me a DM or ask! :))
Part 1
Part 2
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Sometimes the weird looks and questions thrown at you by the people you interacted with circled your mind, the unspoken pity they seemed to ooze in your direction.
You hadn’t always been this reckless and unhinged, various doctors had tried to get that side of you under control, but as soon as you were of legal age, nothing could hold you down anymore. It had always been other people questioning you, judging your actions against some kind of nice moral codex… they never really took the time to understand the seemingly twisted side of your mind.
Not that you heard voices or shit like that, they label you off the charts but actually you bested a lot of them in various fields, your intelligence very high on the spectrum.
It seems as if you had gotten almost too much of it, your mind sharpening easily and not much escaping your attention, ready to be processed and dissected. When it got so intense you had the urge to claw at your own skin, medication was your favourite way to numb your racing mind for a bit and get some fucking downtime.
Your headspace just didn’t work in the same realm as the broad collective mind, never fitting into their neat little boxes, always spilling nastily over the fine lines trying to confine you.
Too much, too fast, to ambiguous.
Shaking your head slightly at the bubbling thoughts, you zeroed in on the commotion going on around your car, zipping through impossibly narrow streets, trying to avoid hitting too many people. You had the locations of the numerous road blocks catalogued in your head, it’s a good thing Rake showed you a good map before you left as Dhaka’s streets made a bit more sense to you by now.
Closing in on one of the hotspots of police, as well as more of Amir’s men, you kept to one of the parallel streets and slowed down slightly, throwing a grenade with all your might down one of the alleys leading to the blockage. Patting yourself on the shoulder with a grin when it landed perfectly, rolling under one of the cars before detonating, flipping two of the cars and effectively disorienting the men from focussing on your car.
You flicked the gear down, hastily speeding away, making a wider berth around the plume of smoke rising, before tearing down the main street and ramming through the remaining cars, clearing a path with your car.
As a horde of men, soldiers and criminals alike, stormed behind your car, you let out a loud curse as smoke started rising from the hood of your car. Mentally taking note of where you were in position, you turned up the next road to get closer to the bridge, focussing your attention on another flock of cars blocking your way.
“You don’t know who you’re messing with, bastards…” you growled out through clenched teeth, further speeding up the car, holding the wheel steady, before counting down the metres to impact in your head. At the mark of ten, you flung open the door and jumped out as gently as possible, still rolling multiple meters, before smacking into the wall of a building.
Pain shot up your left arm and a look down your arm confirmed the worst as a piece of metal stuck out from your upper arm. Luckily it didn’t tear your arteries open but your muscles screamed bloody murder as you pulled it out quickly before ripping into the bottom of your shirt and tying it around your arm as tight as you could, fingers trembling slightly.
You finished just in time, forcing air deeply into your lungs and raising your gun to shoot at the myriad of enemies approaching your position. In your peripheral you noticed that at least the car had made a pretty impact, exploding on contact and creating a nice, bright fire lighting up the other cars as well.
A manic glint in your eyes reflected the flames while you methodically worked your way along the streets, closer to the bridge. There wasn’t that much time left until Ovi was scheduled to be picked up, so you had to hurry your ass along if you wanted to make sure it happened successfully.
Again branching out to your right, the bridge and huge barricade visible at the end of the next big intersection, you inched closer to it, a commotion visible even from your distance. Seems that the big Aussie didn’t pass so easily as you saw the two figures sprinting further along the bridge, taking cover immediately.
Still closing in at your own pace, your eyes trained firmly on the roadblock ahead, you decided that the best strategy would again be to bridle the horse from behind, trying to divert some of the attention away from your target.
Finally close enough to make out the full scope of carnage, the situation became clearer: the Aussie and Ovi were stuck, unable to move because of insufficient cover and the men closed in on them fast.
Rage took over your features at that realization and somewhere in the back of your mind, a badass song played while you brought the grenade launcher to the front of your body, lining it up on your right shoulder. Stepping onto an abandoned car, you dropped your knee and focussed your aim right into the center of the commotion before pulling the trigger, launching a small salve of grenades into the scrambling mass of men.
Panic arose almost immediately, the detonation flinging masses of rubble, steel and humans in all directions, even flipping a nearby abandoned bus onto its side, cutting off some of the attackers from accessing the crossing.
Your eyes shifted along the bridge to where Rake and Ovi were hiding, seeing the former’s head peak around the vehicle they were crouched behind. His gaze briefly found yours across the distance and you mock saluted, smiling broadly before firing another round into the frenzy and then rolling into cover yourself as multiple men began storming towards you and a brigade of police cars sped around the corner behind you.
Never one to look back, you sprinted along the walls closer to the intersection, deciding to take advantage of their panic and make your way onto the bridge as well, not wanting to leave Rake alone to protect the boy.
As the sirens grew closer, you swiftly turned your body and shot the last grenades down the street towards the police. Only a few of them were able to dodge, the rest crashed or went up in flames as well.
A few men were trying to attack you as you turned the next corner and on instinct you grabbed the the grenade launcher by its end and swung it in a wide berth, knocking into the nearest man, his head crunching audibly to your amusement.
One of them pulled a knife while you quickly grabbed your gun out of your pants and lined a shot at him.
Fuck, you forgot to put the damn bullets in again!
Grunting annoyed, you pulled your arm back and threw the empty gun at one of the men full force, knocking him to the ground, and pulled out the second gun from your waistband, shooting him.
Meanwhile the man with the knife had advanced on you and slashed wildly in your direction. Tutting softly and shaking your head, you blocked his blow, the blade barely nicking your vest and drove your elbow into his chin while guiding his knived hand around and plunged the blade deep into the man’s thigh, cutting his femoral artery.
Blood splashed onto your hands and you quickly wiped them on your own legs before gripping your gun tighter and moved further along.
Crossing the threshold of the bridge wouldn’t be easy as it crawled with enemies but you remembered the smoke grenade that sat against your body. As you felt for it, crouching, you pulled the assault rifle from one of the bodies lying on the ground and checked the clip. With another bright smile at the full magazine and ammo belt now slung around your own torso, you thrust your arm up, launching the smoke grenade ahead of you and broke into a mad sprint when the vision was impeded.
You dodged obstacles easily and darted around vehicles, bodies and the odd person still standing. The gun ready at your shoulder, you fired when someone noticed you, before ducking behind another obstacle fluidly, all the aches in your body seemingly forgotten.
As the adrenaline coursed through your veins, giving your mind that high you had missed so much, you grew even more attentive, sneaking through the settling smoke and making your way to the center of the bridge.
Keeping to the shadows and in cover to where the men were beginning to swarm the bridge again, you peeked into an empty bus and were massively surprised when you saw Ovi crouching down at the other end of the long vehicle, watching you warily. His eyes grew wide when he recognized you under all the grime and blood on your features.
“What the fuck are you doing here? Where’s Rake?” you hissed lowly while ducking your way over to him, tugging him behind your body and checked the direction you just came from.
“He’s trying to stop them…they almost had me...” he whispered into your ear from his position and you briefly shot up and checked the other side of the bus where the Aussie was crouched behind another car.
After quickly checking over the boy for any injuries, you grabbed his upper arm, pulling him along with you further down the bridge as you heard the telltale sound of a chopper approaching quickly.
Although your body didn’t hurt as much due to the high adrenaline, you weren’t immune to the shot that ripped through your side suddenly, flinging you forwards, crashing into another car.
You tried suppressing it, you really did, but let out a blood curdling scream and felt the hot liquid drench your side immediately, the side of your vest torn open. Ovi tried pressing his hands onto your wound to stop the blood but you quickly pulled him further along where you could see another woman, probably Rake’s contact, hurrying towards the pair of you.
“There’s a sniper somewhere!” she shouted over the sound of gunfire further down the bridge and grabbed Ovi’s arm from you, pulling him with her against his struggle.
“Go! Run!” you yelled back at the two, just as another shot zipped past you and almost hit the other woman but all three of you quickly dropped to the floor.
Crawling back towards Rake’s position, you were elated that the kid wasn’t harmed but the mission wasn’t over yet, a sniper could easily take out the chopper’s pilot and that’d be it.
You loudly cursed your thoughts for jinxing it, when you heard glass splintering. Fortunately the pilot wasn’t harmed, only his co-pilot hung limply in his seat.
Your side screamed with pain as you crouched and crawled further towards Rake, who was coming closer to you as well, having been pushed back by the masses still storming the bridge. How many fucking men that are willing to die are in this goddamn city?!
The big Australian was also visibly hurt, his arm and head bleeding profusely but still able to stand, what a machine.
You whistled lowly to him and he briefly glanced in your direction, his eyes widening at your condition. The shots were still deafeningly loud around you both, so you signalled to the sniper gun on his back, glad that he understood your wild gesturing correctly. He pulled the large rifle from his back, stabilizing through the cracks of the vehicle which he was crouched behind, searching the streets lining the river for the sniper’s nest while you fired at the approaching men behind him, keeping them back.
After a few moments, he glanced back at you and slightly shook his head, he couldn’t find him when the sniper didn’t act.
“Think quick, girl…” you muttered to yourself, feeling exhausted and incredibly high strung at once. Your eyes scanned the bodies around you and landed on a flare gun strapped to one of the men’s bags, shuffling along to retrieve it and quickly showing it to Rake. With shaky, slippery hands, you pointed the gun into the blue sky marred by smokes from the countless fires and pulled the trigger, releasing the glowing flare into the air in a wide arc, trying to garner the sniper’s attention.
The men again coming closer behind Rake’s stakeout were momentarily distracted, which you used to your advantage and mowed the closest one’s down before the rest ducked down quickly.
As you were slightly worried about someone hitting the other man before you could get to him, you shuffled closer to his position and leaned against the same car carefully to not disturb his search through the scope. Popping up and down from various sides of your cover, you tried to hold the position as best as possible but another shot whizzed past your head, making you smell your own singed hair.
“You got him?” you whispered against Rake’s back, the tone of your voice more laboured than a few minutes ago.
“Nah, the bastard’s not moving.” he muttered back before looking for him again. There was only one thing that came to your pained mind: bait.
You weren’t about to risk everything because of that stupid sniper. Probably all of you would end up dead then, at least the boy and Rake’s team had to get away, and fast at that.
The fingers of your left hand reached up and gingerly squeezed the back of Rake’s neck before you leaned forward into him slightly and whispered “Eyes on the prize, mate.”, your voice taking on a troubled edge.
Instead of letting him confront you, you swiftly slid out from behind the vehicle and began to climb the front of one of the abandoned busses, hoping to catch the sniper’s focus.
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Hope you enjoyed this part! And that I didn't fuck up on any of the action, haha!
As always, let me know what you think, you beautiful human reading this right now. :)
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tobios-housewife · 9 days ago
I'd like to formally thank @hq-girl-next-door for the brain rotting thought of Makki, between your splayed legs, thick long fingers stuffed in your cunt, with his forehead pressed to your stomach, your fingers on your clit and the feeling of his heavy panting against your arm while he tells you how much he'd love it if you came for him.
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justwastelandbabyy · 14 days ago
Very interesting, babygirl. It truly was a good show you put on, I really enjoyed it. It was totally worth almost getting caught. Hearing you call out my brothers name wasn't nearly as bad as I thought, especially knowing that you like him just not as much as me. So, go ahead and have your fun with him, but you're mine later. You and I both know that I can work your body best. - Dogma
i don't know what’s hotter, baby - the way fives fucks me or the way you look at me when he does. it really is a good thing you didn’t get caught, dogma. shame about fox though. he really needs to relax, don’t you think?
dogma, i don’t like anyone as much as you, don’t worry about that. i look forward to it - nobody touches me the way you do, baby boy. all the clever tongues and tricky fingers in the world won’t change that.
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ghxstwriter666 · 14 days ago
I’ll go feral if I can’t have Tojis monster cock in my lifetime
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longlostinanotherworld · 15 days ago
Loaded Gun [Tyler Rake x Reader] - PART 2
Pairing: Tyler Rake (Extraction) x Reader
Warnings: Swearing and Violence, I guess
Word Count: 3k
Summary: Where trouble goes, confrontation follows.
A/N: I really enjoy this chaper personally! It was so fun to write and we get to know a bit more about our fearless mercenaries.
Taglist: @darklydeliciousdesires @chickensarentcheap (If you want to be added, shoot me a DM or ask! :))
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After tending to your more than aching body in a dingy motel and being royally pissed off about losing the kid when you had him already, you slunk out into the streets again, feeling a bit better after taking some much needed medication. Probably more than was needed but you had earned it and it helped clear your focus a bit.
Part 1
Turning down multiple dimly lit streets, you entered another building to hopefully receive some intel on where to continue looking, as you completely lost the burly stranger and the kid and hadn’t been able to pick up on anything.
Luckily you knew just the man to ask, a local fearmonger who received information from close to all parts of the city and was known to be particularly popular with the homeless as he recruited them off the streets and gave them a new perspective and a gun. Even though you mostly worked alone and kept no strings anywhere, it always pays off to know someone.
In exchange for some of your intel that you gathered shadowing Asif’s stupid lackeys, he told you a man had seen two people matching your description being picked up from a warehouse by another foreigner in a van. He could even give you an address when you mentioned your name and smiled sweetly at him while fear washed over his face.
Good thing when your reputation spreads, you were a pretty well known mercenary in some parts of the world.
The house wasn’t that hard to find, it was actually pretty nice and you were in luck as said car pulled into the gated driveway again about an hour later. You quickly slipped through while the man was occupied with the garage door remote.
Pretty unattentive for someone hiding probably the world’s most wanted teenager, you thought while scoffing softly.
You kept to the shadows and found a way into the house a short while later. You feared an alarm might set off while you twisted your knife and quietly pried the window open to slip in, but nothing happened. Guess they feel pretty safe with this guy around…and you wondered for a second whose house you’ve just broken into.
Feeling wary and on guard, you wait for quite a while before sneaking around the bottom floor of the house, eying the soft light that streamed down the carpeted stairs to your hiding spot. You hear two men talking in hushed tones up there, not being able to identify if Mahajan’s kid was with them.
Just as you crept up the stairs, keeping your gun close and ready, the men’s voices began rising, some sort of fight having broken out between them. From above you heard soft footsteps and quickly hid in the shadows behind some furniture as the kid sneaked past you.
For a split second, you had to grin at his sneaking before turning serious again when a fight broke out in the house and shortly after that two shots filled the air. You held your breath and heard the boy crying softly, creeped out from your hiding and saw him sitting on a step with his arms around the familiar man’s waist, the body of the house's owner slumped lifeless in an armchair to the side of them.
If you were a more sane and sentimental person, you might have given them a moment but your reckless side made you sneak even closer, paying attention this time, your gun trained calmly on the back of the man’s head.
“Now, what do we have here?” you asked with a twisted curious tone, your voice a bit rough from not speaking much in general.
Both of them turned around, startled and the man tried reaching for the gun that lay in front of them, but you tutted softly.
“I wouldn’t, if I were you. I missed you once already, wouldn’t count on your luck for a second time.”, a half smile grazing your features at your own joke.
“Stand up slowly and slide the gun over, with your foot. Don’t try me.” you instructed, all traces of your previous smile gone from your face. He complied and you picked up the gun, tucking it into your waistband without breaking eye contact.
The man opened his mouth to speak, but the boy cut him off before a word could leave him. “You said you know Saju…”
“Yeah I do, kid. He sent me here on behalf of your father to bring you home.”
At that, the man looked up at you again, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “The job is rigged. My scheduled pay never followed through.” he muttered, his voice laden with a thick Australian accent.
You were still wary but after you had confirmed that indeed you were both hired to extract the boy, you loosened up a bit and didn’t feel the need to point your gun at the other adult anymore, though you kept it tucked in your pants with the other man's gun.
Surprisingly, he asked you for help, having had the realization that this was indeed a suicide mission and it would only succeed, if at all, you worked together. You moved into another room of the house to set up your plan for the next day, the boy having retreated to try and get some more sleep. You wish you trusted that easily.
Sitting on opposite sides of the table, you currently tried to stare down the tall man in front of you with an equally stern face to match his lightly scowling one. Suddenly, you crack a smile at the utter absurdity of the situation, a few hours ago he hit you with a truck and now you’re here.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, his scowl deepening.
“Everything… this!” you exclaim, a giggle bubbling up while you spread your arms and gesture grandly around the room. “Sitting in a dead man’s house with a guy who hit me with a truck mere hours ago. This whole job is so fucked, why did I even agree to this fucking task?”
Something akin so sympathy softened his features and the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
“Yeah… I’d say I’m sorry but you stabbed me. And tried to headshot me. You’re a lousy shot by the way.” his voice laced with amusement.
You had your gun trained between his eyes in the blink of an eye, face stretched into a wide grin.
“Care to repeat that?” you irked him on.
Grumbling in his chest, he didn’t break eye contact, but instead leaned forward, pressing his forehead into the barrel of your gun. Interesting, you’ve yet to meet someone that behaves as reckless as you and is still alive and kicking…
You stared at each other for quite a while, not moving one muscle. His eyes, you noticed, were a striking bright blue color framed by long, thick lashes. Your own eyes narrowed dangerously, before the grin returned to your face.
“Boom!” you whispered and lowered the gun to the table.
He leaned back, somehow as amused as you were. “What’s the fucking matter with you?” he muttered under his breath but it didn’t sound angry or jaded, just genuinely interested.
“Could ask the same of you, big “scary” guy…” you air-quoted in an exaggerated manner. “What did people call me again…? Ah, yeah, they call me off the fucking charts.” you explain loosely, leaning back yourself, cocking your head to the side.
He only scoffed in response, shaking his head but the grin remained in his features. “Who are you anyway?” he asked, leaning his elbows on the table and peering at you.
“An eye for an eye. You ask too many questions, mate.” you lightly mock his accent.
“Tyler.” he answers simply and as you impatiently wave your hand, he continues: “Rake. Tyler Rake”.
“Okay slow down James Bond. I’ve heard of you somewhere, I think.” you ponder, tapping your chin lazily.
“An eye for an eye.” he retorts before you can say more. You narrow your eyes at his impatience, also putting your elbows on the table, resting your chin on your folded hands.
“Y/N. “Y/N, Y/L/N.” you whisper.
Again you question the world on how a man his size can move so quickly. This time the gun is trained straight between your eyes, his outstretched arm enough to press the cold metal into your skin.
He clearly recognized your name and it wasn’t what he had wanted to hear, having doubted the stories, muttered around cities too plentiful to count, in the short time spent with you at this table.
Again, an almost unnatural looking smile stretched your features, baring your teeth to him. In contrast, your eyes showed no sign of mirth, they were perfectly clear and unmoving, holding his gaze coolly.
“What are you waiting for?” you asked, your voice lowering.
You were acutely aware of everything, your mind sharpening so much it almost physically hurt.
Felt the slightly musty air around you deep down in your lungs, the all-present fine dust of the city circulating with your breath. You heard the slight labour of his breath, caused by the numerous injuries he sustained today, but not enough to stop this force of a man. Noticed the weight of the second gun pressing against your back, too far to reach with your hands still folded under your chin, perfectly still.
You saw no contemplation in his eyes, the same switch flicked in him that you knew so well. Stone cold. He pressed the barrel impossibly closer into your skin, marking a perfect circle there and squeezed the trigger.
There is no surprise in either of your faces, the gun had been entirely too light in his grasp to be loaded with even one single bullet. And you were the reason, having slipped out the bullets when no one was paying attention. He didn’t know that when you trained the gun on him but still trusted you enough to not shoot him point blank. You trusted him enough to know he’d feel the difference in weight.
The moment he exhaled softly and placed the gun on the table again, some kind of unspoken agreement passed between your gazes. The knowledge of a fellow mercenary, your pasts impossibly different but still the same, marred by scars. Both screwed over by effectively the same man, sitting in prison in India and pulling the strings for both of you, trying to best himself.
Your hands lower to his that are resting on the cool surface of the table, your eyes leaving his for the first time in what feels like eternity. Tracing the scuffed knuckles of his big hand up to the gauze that wrapped around his forearm where your own knife had nicked him hours earlier.
You kept your chin down and gazed at him through your lashes and some strands of hair that had come loose and hung into your face, a slight bashful smile tugging at your lips. “We’re not great communicators, eh?”, amusement clear in your voice. “Sorry about that, though.” you muttered softly, tapping the gauze, your smile diminishing slightly.
He turned his hand upwards, catching yours and tracing your own bruised knuckles and the cuts marking them, furrowing his brows as if he’d never seen some other person’s hand in the same state as his.
Cut from the same wood. Dysfunctional. Tools at someone’s disposal.
You tipped your head back, watching him with hooded eyes and it’s now his turn to peer at you through the strands of hair falling into his face. You grasped the hand that still traced yours in a firm grip.
“Let’s show those bastards we’re not to be fucked with, double booking on the same job my ass…” you whisper, voice dropping slightly and taking on a dangerous edge that reflects in his eyes as he, too, tips his head back up and straightens his posture, reciprocating your hold on his hand.
The boy, Ovi, as you learned his name was, was visibly shaken by neither of you having more wounds to count as the night turned to dusk.
Both of you not entirely trusting in nature had claimed different sides of the room, him sitting in a chair facing you sitting against the arm of the couch, watching each other and the stairwell to where the boy was sleeping.
The more time passed, the more secure the atmosphere between you two felt, although the generally hostile mood towards what was going down later in the day rose steadily as well.
Rake had contacted his team by using his secure phone a few hours prior, notifying them that he and the boy were indeed still alive and that he and you had come to a resolve.
Although his backup was even more wary of you when they ran your name to confirm your identity, they had to accept his decision. If the kid made it out alive, all of that would be worth it anyway. The boy had grown on you and it was technically still your job to bring him back to his father or else you’d not only have Amir’s eyes on your back, but Mahajan’s as well.
As Ovi made his way downstairs, warily watching both you and Rake, the man quickly explained your general plan to the boy. He was to be trailing the Aussie, while you tried to break up the numerous roadblocks lining the streets to your destination.
Watching you from the side as you pulled your vest on again, tightening all the straps and taking a mental inventory, he seemed concerned with your plan and it showed in his face. Turning into the room and picking up the vest that lay over the back of one of the chairs, you instructed him to raise his arms and pulled the vest down over his upper body, working on the straps after.
“Hey, what’s the matter?” you asked, tugging playfully at the last strap, sending him a small smile.
“Why are you not worried?”
“Worry gets you nowhere, kid. Cross the bridge when you come to it. Figuratively and literally.” you replied fiercely, you were never one to shred your mind over things. As long as your head was level, you could burst through walls and risk everything but be at peace with it.
“We’re bringing you home today, mate.”, you patted his shoulder and turned to the bag sitting on the table, eyeing Rake preparing his own vest next to it, stocking it to the brim.
“And if you’re still worried after my great pep-talk, I still got this to calm your nerves!” you exclaimed, giddy with excitement and pulled out a giant grenade launcher while giggling to yourself.
“Crazy as a bag of cats…” Rake murmured under his breath with a grunt but you saw the mirth in his eyes as he gazed at you.
“You’re one to talk…” you reply, walking over and pointing to the numerous grenades strapped to his vest.
“Would be a shame if one of those went missing, eh?” you glanced up at him, hooking your pinky finger through the grenade’s pin that’s closest to you.
“The fuck…” he scolded, slapping your fingers.
“Second that.” Ovi spoke from behind your back and you grinned at him from over your shoulder.
All three of you piled into a car, the plan being to let Rake and the kid out closer to the river, while you were to try and cause as much distraction as possible.
After some arguing you insisted you keep the car to move faster and so you were manning the wheel, Rake and the kid in the backseat with tinted windows as their faces were known to police.
You flipped the rear-view mirror and looked at the two. “Seatbelts?” you asked and shrugged your shoulders when only Ovi put his on hastily. “I warned you.” you muttered under your breath.
With one last glance at your watch, you kicked the car into gear and blazed down the crowded roads, T-3 hours before the chopper was meant to pick Ovi up.
Already you could sense the anticipation, having encountered rigged police as soon as you turned towards one of the city's many rivers.
It was heavy, something in the air had almost imperceptibly changed, only noticeable to those who knew what it was. It permeated every pore of your being, making the hairs on your arms rise in the mid-morning sun shining through the car’s windows.
It felt primal, a sense of urgency, a force grappling at every citizen crossing the roadblocks, trying to pry into their minds, use their eyes to see what they’re after.
It’s honestly amazing to you how a whole city could feel so restless looking for one small teenager amidst its masses.
Trying to stay in the back lanes without the blocks, you tried to get them as close as possible but it seemed a feat too great, too many people milling the streets, vehicles of all types and sizes congesting every turn you took.
Growing increasingly frustrated, you reversed out of yet another blocked alley and into the next, the feeling of irritation not diminished when again you came up against a roadblock.
“Fuck this shit.” you growled angrily, taking a deep breath and building momentum by holding the clutch and accelerating. You almost expected Rake to look irritated as you glance in the mirror but in the split second your eyes met his blue ones, his face mirrored the same slightly crazed grin as your own.
A laugh bubbled up from your chest as you released the clutch and speed towards the small group of cars blocking your way. “Hold on tight, boys.” you grit out and held the wheel steadfast, breaking through the barricade and speeding down the road.
All hell broke loose after that maneuver and you quickly let Rake and Ovi exit the car, the pair sprinting into one of the countless backyards, before honking maniacally and speeding off towards more of the roadblocks, drawing all possible attention away from their route towards the bridge.
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Woohoo! This picks up pace quickly, eh?
Again, feel free to comment or shoot me a DM if you want, I'd love to hear from you! ♥
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ghxstwriter666 · 15 days ago
Drunk gojo x reader ❗️18+ NSFW❗️
Reposting my recent fic from AO3 to start of this account. I know it’s cannon that Gojo doesn’t drink, I wasn’t sure at the time I wrote this so it’s a bit out of character I guess but whatever.
Hope you enjoy anyway!
A knock on your dorm door awoken you from your sleep, your eyes quickly shooting open as you jolted up from your bed. You threw your covers back and stumbled up onto your feet as whoever it was knocked again louder.
“Yeah yeah, I’m coming!.....give it a rest”
You sleepily shouted, almost tripping over your shoes that you’d lazily kicked off earlier that day. You swung open the door to reveal a drunk and giggling Gojo satoru, who lent nonchalantly against the frame of your door. His cheeks were notably blushed and he smelled strongly of alcohol and cigarettes. Your face adorned a look of confusion as you rubbed your eyes to make sure you weren’t imagining things
“what the hell are you doing here? And what time is it?”
“One question at a time”
he chuckled in reply, pushing his way past you and into your room. “Eh...what are you doing?! I was sleeping” you whispered though your teeth, trying your best to keep your voice down so to not wake anyone else in the building. You shut the door knowing he probably wasn’t going to just leave, he was obviously drunk and well gojo could be difficult at the best of times. Suddenly, you found yourself pressed against the back of your door with the older male leaning over you
“g..gojo wha-”
your voice got cut off by a slender finger pressing against your lips “quit talking” his voice came as a low purr. It made your stomach tingle and cheeks flush hot. You’d dreamed of being this close to him so many times but this was quite jarring and sudden that you didn’t know what to do.
You swallowed hard, your hands gently pushing against his chest in an attempt to push him away but he was so much stronger than you “your drunk...I...I don’t think your thinking straight” you said hiding your face so he wouldn’t see the embarrassment plastered all over it. His finger moved under your chin, lifting your face to meet his eyes that peaked over the rim of his tinted glasses
“I’m thinking perfectly fine”
he smirked before his lips came to meet with yours in a hard and passionate kiss that almost had your knees buckling. Your eyes fluttered closed as you relaxed into his touch, your arms wrapping around his back and nails digging into the fabric of his shirt.
Damn this man could kiss.
His soft lips played against yours as his hands snaked around to your waist and one tangled into your hair to keep you in place. The effect he was having on your body was insane, your knees were weak and your heart felt like it was sitting in your throat. The smell of his cologne and pheromones filled your senses and caused a weightless feeling to form in your stomach.
His lips parted from yours finally but no words could escape you, you stood there like a fish out of water searching for something to say.
“Don’t get all shy on me’ll make me embarrassed too”
he teased as he ran his hand up your thigh and under the hem of your shirt. His long fingers trailed across your sensitive skin, making your stomach fill with butterflies. He buried his head into your neck and started kissing at the skin, eliciting a moan from you “hmm your so soft” he whispered before dragging a lick up the length of your neck.
Your head was spinning at his touch and you bit your lip to hold down your spiralling emotions, you didn’t know why this was happening. You didn’t think gojo liked you that way, you guys flirted a lot but you just assumed it wasn’t anything more than casual banter.
Did he actually like you?
Whatever, you weren’t going to question it, Gojo satoru was making out with you! That’s all you gave a fuck about right now. You cleared your head of any negative thoughts and slipped into your own lust, letting the months of feelings you’d had for him take over.
You let out a soft moan as both his hands gripped your hips and pulled you against him while his teeth bit down against your neck. Quickly, his hands wrapped around your ass and lifted you up and you couldn’t help but giggle as he walked you over to your bed where he lay you down under him. You felt a hand trailing down your leg and between your thighs, his long fingers slipped under the band of your underwear and slowly pulled them down. He tossed his glasses to the side as he positioned himself between your legs, lifting them and kissing down the inside of your thigh. You watched lustfully as he placed soft kisses and occasional bites at your flesh, the soft tips of his hair brushing against your skin.
His eyes flickered up to make eye contact, bright ocean blue eyes watched you from between your legs, a sight that had your core twisting in excitement. His other hand slid down the inside of your thigh until it met your tingling heat, long fingers playing at your wet folds, coating them in your slick.
“Fuck...someone’s excited”
he smirked and you blushed hard “shut up” you chuck with embarrassment as you turned your face away. He gripped your chin and turned you to look at him again “nuh uh no looking away, I wanna see your face when I burry my tongue in your pussy” he licked his lips and you felt two fingers slip into your heat. You breathed in deep at the feeling, closing your eyes and arching into his touch. His long fingers reaching against your g spot and making your pussy throb with every stroke. His tongue followed soon after, starting to slowly lap over your clit. You gripped the covers and rolled against his movements, moaning hard every time your pussy tightened to his touch. This man was a god, he had your head floating and the feeling of orgasm fast approaching the more he licked and stroked at your sensitive clit.
“Ah god...fuck...hmm”
you keened and just as you felt like you may snap he stopped, slowly slipping his fingers from your heat and licking them clean. The look of disappointment on your face must have been obvious because he flashed a cocky smirk “what’s wrong?” He teased. You rolled your eyes at his words “why’d you stop? that felt so good” you whined, covering your face with your hands out of frustration.
“Don’t worry Im not done yet”
he stood from the bed and stripped of his shirt before beginning to undo his belt. The sound of the metal buckle chiming as he slid his pants and boxers down, you stared lustfully at his body in front of you. Your face blushing hard and stomach doing backflips when your eyes met his hard dick, it practically jumped out when he released it from his pants. You gasped and chuckled while admiring the size, it wasn’t exactly huge in length, probably 6.5 inches but the girth it had made your mouth water “damn gojo...” you smirked. He raised a brow and ran a hand through his snow white hair “hm what?” He giggled sarcastically as though he was oblivious.
You wrapped your hand around it...well as much as you could anyway, your fingers just about reaching around the girth. You started slowly stroking up and down before lapping at the tip to tease, a bead of slick pre cum leaking onto your tongue. His breathing was heavier and the way his cock was twitching in your grip showed he was getting frustrated and wanted more. You suddenly took as much of him in your mouth as you could fit, pushing all the way to the back of your throat. It made him suck in a sharp breath through his teeth and buck his hips “ffuuck...take it easy” he growled, taking a fist full of your hair in his hand as you bobbed your head up and down his length. He felt so good in your mouth and you only imagined how it would feel in your pussy.
Your spare hand reached down to play with yourself while you continued to pleasure him, your wetness coating your fingers and slipping down your thighs. You were taking him as deep as you could, your throat wrapping tightly around the head of his cock which made soft moans spill from his lips.
“Hmm fuuck...your so good at that”
he chuckled in a deep, throaty tone. The hand that was tangled in your hair gripped harder and held your head in place before fucking your throat hard and fast, tears welled at the corner of your eyes and you tried your best not to gag. Your hands gripped his thighs as he viciously assaulted your throat, you closed your eyes tight making the tears spill down your cheeks. You were almost about to tap out until he forced himself balls deep into your throat, holding you on his dick for a moment before pulling out. Spit dribbled down your chin while you coughed and gasped for air “hmm good girl, you take my cock so well” he said with a smirk as he whipped a tear from your cheek.
“let’s see how well your pussy can handle it”
He tossed you ass up onto your bed, spreading your legs at the edge so your feet were on the ground but your forearms rested on the bed. He positioned himself behind you and you felt the blunt tip of his cock against your entrance, slipping it up and down he coated it in your slick before gently pressing into your folds. You felt him stretching your pussy as he inched further in and you bit your lip at the sensation of being filled up.
He felt so good, stretching you out like no one else you’d had before, you didn’t even know it could feel this good just from being in and not even moving yet. A breathy moan came from him as he reached deep, almost his full length buried into your heat.
“damn your tight, I’ll go easy on you to start huh?”
He gripped your hips and thrust into you hard once making you moan into the covers “unless you’d like me to be rough?” He asked, licking the shell of your ear that caused a shiver to trickle down your spine. A hand left your hips and wrapped around your throat, lifting your face up to be parallel with his “hm which is it?” He questioned and you swallowed hard as your eyes met his.
“Ah really? Just what I wanted to hear”
And without a moments hesitation he started thrusting into you fast and hard, your bed squeaking with your movements and moans from the both of you ringing through your room. You only hopped no one in the neighbouring dorms would hear. The lewd sound of skin hitting skin reverberated through your room, the atmosphere was heavy and hot, you’d definitely blush every time you were alone in this room from now on. The image of Gojo railing you hard on your bed, the feeling of your tits bouncing with his harsh thrusts, the smell of sex all being burned into your memory.
You bit down on the covers beneath you to hold back the slew of curses and moans that would otherwise escape. Your eyes fluttering as you played with your clit, the familiar feeling of orgasm pooling in your lower stomach. Your walls began to softly clench around his thickness as the onset of your orgasm started
“Ahh...f..fuuuck, I’m gonna-hmm” your voice a broken cry of words, muffled by the bed covers.
“Yeah you gonna cum for me?”
Your body became numb as the only sensation that rolled through your body was your orgasm, a tingling spasm radiating from your core that had you collapsing on to the bed. A slur of words parting your lips in your pleasured state and your walls clenching tight around him. You lay dazed while he continued to reach his own end, his rhythm becoming more arbitrary and sloppy until he was breathing hard.
he growled through gritted teeth, his hips coming to a stop, you felt his cock twitching inside you as it pumped you full. He must have came a lot because it was seeping past where his cock plugged you up and making a mess down your thighs. After cooling down for a moment he gently pulled away from you and you slid down to the floor with your back against the bed, exhausted and bruised. Gojo slid his underwear back on and knelt down in front of you with a smirk “need a bath?” He teased and you nodded. Taking your hand he pulled you up from the floor and began walking to the bathroom
“let’s get cleaned up”
You followed week-kneed behind him, cringing at the feeling of cum slipping down your thighs. He ran a bath and you both stepped inside as it continued to fill up. You sat between his legs with your knees pulled to your chest, even after everything that just happened you were blushing hard. Being in the bath with him, having him slowly washing your body, his wet hair. It was all too much for your enamoured heart.
“Hm what’s with that face?...not still embarrassed are you?” He teased, his slender fingers sensually gliding up your wet back and drawing circles on your skin. You were taken aback by his sudden romantic touch, you never thought he could have this side to him.
“I...of course I am”
He brushed the hair from your neck over your shoulder and placed a soft kiss at your skin, he hummed in a teasing tone.
“Do I make you shy?” He purred against your ear, his arms wrapped around your chest with his hands resting between your legs. You scoffed at him and told him to fuck off, you weren’t about to admit that he had you weaker than jelly.
“Awh don’t be mean!....unless you want to be punished” a sexual tone exaggerating the last part. Your pussy twinged as a slender finger teased at your clit again, you don’t know how well you could take another round.
You could tell tonight was going to be long.
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ghxstwriter666 · 15 days ago
Hello once again tumblr!
You may formally know me as cherrykwrites, I used to be very active a couple years back and if you remember me I just disappeared one day. I would like to apologise for just disappearing like that but I was going through some things at the time and basically deleted my entire internet presence ^^’ lol anyway I’m back now and enjoying writing again! I can’t guarantee I’ll be around for a long time and I could just up and leave again if I feel like it but I really wanted this space back again where I can lust over fictional men in peace.
My AO3 is linked bellow for all my old fics!
Before you follow me please be warned i do write content that isn’t for everyone involving taboo subjects, strong adult content and kinks, ect so if your against anything of that nature just don’t even bother crying to me because I don’t care, I didn’t back then and I still don’t. Just block me and move on.
🔞strictly 18+ minors will be permanently blocked! You’ve been warned🔞
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longlostinanotherworld · 20 days ago
Loaded Gun [Tyler Rake x Reader] - PART 1
Pairing: Tyler Rake (Extraction) x Reader
Warnings: Swearing and Violence, I guess
Word Count: 3.5k
Summary: Two mercenaries with the same target. The fight begins.
A/N: The first parts follow the movie loosely.
Dhaka, 2020
One of the ten most populous cities of the word with about fifty million people milling about the countless streets and back alleys. Surrounded by rivers and filled with too many bodies, too many vehicles, the atmosphere laden and hot. Too many faces that seem all-seeing but also part of a blind-eyed mass that just shoves their way through too small of streets and passages. It robs your breath and tries to occupy the space in your lungs, your being.
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Heavy, dust ridden air shifts, nearly imperceptible, when you lift your assault rifle slightly higher against your shoulder, gaze locked firmly on the building on the opposite side of the street through the scope. You haven’t even been there that long, having had to lay impossibly still for agonizing periods of time on past jobs.
This one didn’t even try to be particularly stealthy, so following him around the bustling city had been as easy as stealing a kid’s candy - even if he tried, you doubt he’d ever really be able to blend into the masses of people on the streets below you. Too tall, too broad, too determined and too aggressive to just be an everyday citizen of Dhaka.
You were sure he was the ticket to your target's whereabouts the moment you laid eyes on him.
The obviously foreign man had vanished from the street and into the building across from you not even five minutes ago, flanked by various lackeys of Amir Asif, although they themselves probably think they’re being utterly inconspicuous in their comings and goings.
Your client had them sniffed out months ago, easily tying them to Asif and his drug ring reigning parts of the country. For a man that wanted, Asif surrounded himself with some serious half-wits.
You exhaled softly, a remnant of a scoff at that thought but soon turning restless to no end - you hated waiting around for things to happen. Usually you’re the one initiating the fun, not lying around in some god forsaken city that’s entirely too dusty and hot for you.
Sweat marks the back of your neck and again you shift slightly, the weight of the gun a comfort to your racing thoughts. Damn this job for requiring you to stay stone cold sober, what you wouldn’t give for a nice cool drink right now as well as something to take the edge off your mind.
These fleeting thoughts were interrupted suddenly by the group of men passing one of the windows in your sight, your gaze cooly following them, all else forgotten to your sharpening instincts. They had covered some of the windows with boards or cloth but for whatever reason placed themselves and their guest so that you could see them through two adjoining windows from a distance. Again, not the sharpest tool in the shack, eh? It appears that the two opposing parties were arguing about something, inaudible words spat back and forth.
The foreigner seemed to have some serious cheek to him, riling Amir’s guys up with zip-zied hands while numerous armed men loosely trained their weapons on him. By your assessment, there were at least ten men of various ages scattered throughout the run-down flat, some standing to attention behind their leading man, some leaning against the walls.
The men seem to come to some kind of agreement after arguing for a moment and move to a closed door to the back of the apartment. With bated breath, you shift slightly, trying to get a better view into the room, but what little that you can see of the room is obstructed by the men crowding the doorway after the foreigner and Asif’s man had entered the room. It’s annoying that you can’t confirm your suspicion that the lackeys are keeping something very valuable hidden in that back room.
The person having contacted you during your much needed out-time being none other than the rivaling drug lord and arch enemy to Asif, Ovi Mahajan Senior. How his precious son even got himself kidnapped slips your mind but rich kids tend to be reckless and a bit dumb, trapped in dangerous lifestyles because of their parents chicaneries. At that moment you’re glad that you don’t owe Mahajan anything more than the completion of this task, their wheeling and dealing already getting on your nerves.
Of course you weren’t exactly a white collar worker either but at least you were free and had your own moral code - as fucked up it may be, but it’s yours to decide. Screw cartels and syndicates, you much rather enjoyed working alone, past partnerships having proven those partners to 'mysteriously' turn up dead after receiving the money.
Suddenly, movement gains back your focus, the men stepping out of the room again and leading the still cuffed foreigner back out of the building with a bag placed over his head. A slight grunt leaving your lips, you decided to wait a bit longer, but disappointed non the less, for a moment you were convinced that some kind of deal would happen, as you were pretty sure that they kept Mahajan’s son in that room. With the number of men diminished by two of them escorting the foreigner back out again, you decided now was a moment as good as ever to get closer to that damned room and get the kid in your possession.
Silently creeping back and wincing slightly at the sensation of finally moving again, you sling a large scarf over your shoulders and vest to conceal the gun you’re still holding close, watching the apartment loosely. After exiting your side of the street, you quickly find the back entrance to their building and slowly ascend the stairs to the fourth floor.
As you round another flight of stairs, dodging all kinds of trash and rubble on the stairs, the hairs on the back of your neck suddenly rise and in an instant, you’re highly alert. Something’s not right. Just as that thought crossed your mind, you hear gunshots down one of the corridors to your left, probably in another stairway similar to yours. You pressed yourself close to the wall, while the shots stopped and heavy footsteps climbed upwards in their corridor while you also quietly took the rest of the stairs and peeked around the corner to the hallway.
More gunshots and shouts of agony and fear sounded from around the corner, one of the doors only remaining in tatters from the brute force of being kicked in. Further down the hallway you spot a dirty cloth hanging on the wall, covering an opening just big enough to fit your frame. While listening intently to the fighting sounds from inside the apartment, you quickly inch closer to the cloth and vanish behind it, pressing yourself into the musky walls, just as another salve of gunshots, the sound of splintering wood and mortar, as well as a blood-curdling scream reach your ears.
Soon enough, there’s only silence followed by the same heavy footfalls and before you could investigate any further, a large figure emerged from the broken doorway, dragging a smaller body behind them. From your spot in hiding you were 90% sure that it was the foreigner, as well as Mahajan’s son.
Cursing under your breath, you left the confines of your hiding spot and quietly went after the pair, quickly peering into the eerily quiet apartment. The front room was littered in bodies, their state varying from quick death to something way more painful, increasing your wariness but also peaking the interest of a more twisted side of your mind.
Further ahead you could hear more sounds of struggle, followed by gunshots and a person falling into the depths of the courtyard below you from some floors above you. Hoisting the strap of your gun a little higher and your scarf to obstruct the lower part of your face, you swiftly went back to the staircase you came from and ascended the stairs, following the sounds of the fight.
Across the hallways you could make out more fallen bodies and assumed that they must be on their way onto the roof but you chose to follow them on a lower floor, deciding that the rooftop was too open for your liking. You were by far not the most stealthy person, more often choosing to go in guns blazing, but with the target wanted alive and them currently being in the possession of the foreigner, you didn’t want to risk being seen too early.
It’s one task to take on the man that took out all the lackeys with apparent ease, but him and Asif’s men? If you could avoid it, all the better.
As you neared the end of your floor, movement in your peripheral caught your attention as first one, then another body flung across the gap between buildings and onto the next. Again cursing under your breath, you assessed the distance before flinging yourself out the window of the room and onto the balcony of the next building, quickly ducking into the apartment.
The inhabitants only seemed mildly disturbed to see a cloaked figure vaulting through their window and out the front door, what the fuck is this city…you shot your hand out to stop the front door from slamming back and held your breath, listening.
Just a few seconds passed before your ears picked up the telltale heavy bootfall again, some floors above you but rapidly descending. Quickly ducking into the nearest stairwell, you hurried down as fast as possible, just as you turned the last corner to the back entrance, you could see the huge foreigner pushing Mahajan’s son into the boot of an old Mercedes, before getting in himself.
Panic rose in the back of your throat for a split second before your gaze landed on the main street, where a salesman just got out of his car and began unloading something from the back, the key dangling from his pocket on a lanyard. You took off sprinting, the Mercedes having already pulled out of the backyard but still in your vision as it got held up by a road block further ahead.
The salesman didn’t even feel you nicking the key from his pocket as he turned to carry a huge package into the nearest store. Slipping into the car quickly, you jammed the key into the ignition and took off at breakneck speed to catch up to the other car before it vanished from sight, some men yelling and running behind you before you turned the corner.
Following a specific car in such a busy and packed city turned out to be a massive pain in the ass, but you managed to follow them at a reasonable distance without being noticed. The longer you drove, the heavier the dust-ridden air became, as there was probably one of the many rivers nearby.
As the Mercedes slowed down and vanished into some back alley, you stopped further up the main road and ducked between the buildings, following the narrow path, always keeping in the shadows. The heavy assault rifle returned to your hands and provided a nice sense of stability in this fucked up situation. This weird stranger just barged into your plans like no one's business…the only positive thing being that he did the bulk of the work for you. Nevertheless, enough is enough, as you reach the end of the tight alley, you crouch down and bring your gun out from under your scarf, training it on the two figures.
They both sported heavy vests by now, so shooting the body wouldn’t do you any good, except the foreigner turned to his side… you inched just a little bit closer and were just about to shoot the stranger’s head, when the kid suddenly yelled to him, having seen your movement. The shot didn’t meet its mark but instead whizzed past the man’s head, even moving his hair, before embedding in the wall behind him.
Just as the curse left your lips, he had already pulled his own gun, but you had the momentary advantage that he himself hadn’t seen you yet, so you fired again but the bastard was entirely too fast for his size, your bullet only grazing his upper arm slightly when you tried to incapacitate him.
You ducked behind the wall as his first shots flew into the cinder above your head and he scrambled to get the kid back in the car. You muttered under your breath, as another car chase wasn’t really what you intended but it became more clear as the stranger shot a few more rounds and then dashed to the drivers side, starting the car up again. You tried to shoot out the tires but gave up and sprinted back to your own car, mad at yourself that you had been so careless, it could have been over so easily…
This time all stealth went out the window and you actually laughed through your irritation, slamming the accelerator and gaining again on the other car. Now this was going more according to your style, you’d only enjoy it more if you didn’t have to keep the kid alive, being careful really isn’t your top priority but the promised cash payout was just too good to pass up.
Weaving through the streets, grazing cars and people, you tried to cut off the other car but it seems that Asif’s men and the police had also taken interest in the other vehicle. Shots rang out from all around you and on multiple occasions you had to take out some of the other cars as well, pushing them into corners or shooting out the tires or driver. Again you cursed, not so quietly this time as this damned city was just so chaotic and none of the streets made sense!
You crashed through a large gate and were suddenly right behind the Mercedes, none of the other cars in sight. Lucky for you, your car had a few horses on his and you gained quite quickly, ramming into the back of the other car and effectively spinning him slightly which, unfortunately for all parties, wedged the two vehicles together and you all crashed into the nearest corner. Not being able to bring your hands up in time, your head and torso smacked against the steering wheel, making your ears ring. Still, you quickly regained your composure and shoved the door open, just as the big stranger climbed out of his, the kid seemingly crouching behind their car.
Slinging your gun around, you fired multiple shots at him and tried to close in more while they took off running into one of the nearest buildings. Damn him, how can someone so bulky move so fast? Asif’s men had also returned and while following and trying to cut off your target’s path, you had to fight multiple of them, although they seemed more focussed on the other two.
After climbing yet another flight of stairs, you rounded the corner and found just who you were looking for, the kid crouched closely behind him.
Too close ranged for your big rifle, you flung your scarf off and grabbed a knife from your vest, storming and crashing into the man, effectively pushing him into the nearest wall. He didn’t move as much as you thought and quickly recuperated and flung his fist in your direction, knocking you backwards but not before your knife nicked his forearm. Your lungs didn’t cooperate for a moment as he hit your chest and your vest helped more against bullets than actual fist fights. He advanced on you and a full grapple and brawl broke out, him pushing you against the wall and trying to use your own knife against you.
This was actually the first time you got a good look at him as before you never saw him up close, but you only noticed the pure rage on his face as he tried to slit your throat with your own knife.
Instead of rage, a twisted smile filled your face, you had indeed missed this, no matter what you told yourself to feel good. He seemed slightly taken aback by that and he himself seemed to really notice you for the first time.
Taking advantage of that moment, you gained the upper hand and ducked down, kicking against his leg and then heaving your full weight upward, pushing against him to fall backwards. He still had your knifed wrist in his and twisted so the weapon clattered against the floor and out of reach before pulling you with him and flinging you over his shoulder and into the wall behind him. Your head rang as it hit the concrete but your instincts reacted so he couldn’t shoot you, ducking behind another wall.
Leaning around the corner, you snatched a handgun from your vest and fired at him again, the kid nowhere to be seen, he seemed to have run when you began shooting. As you leaned around again, you noticed the encroaching men behind the other man in the same moment as him, turning around and backing away further down the corridor and side stepping into an open apartment door.
You heard shouts behind you, further into the apartment and recognized the voice of Mahajan’s son, quickly hurrying to follow his yells and finding two men trying to restrain him. You shot one of the men in the head instantly before they noticed you, the other man turning to you, abandoning the boy and holding up a knife. He let out a yell and came for you but you kicked his arm swiftly, letting the knife fly across the room. As he spinned, you wretched his arm behind his back and pulled up, hard. The sound of crunching bone audible and his scream muffled by the wall you pushed him against, before shooting the side of his neck once, letting the body drop.
As you turn towards the boy, who is crouched against the opposite wall, the big stranger, as well as another of Asif’s men came crashing through the door and into the room with him punching the other man savagely, instantly breaking his nose, before twisting his neck.
His gaze went to the boy whose big eyes went between the two of you, before turning to you himself, the boy at his back. He charged at you in the same moment as you, another brutal but not that unbalanced fight breaking out. What he had in strength, you made up in speed, knowing to dodge his blows as much as possible because if he got one in, you were done for.
Both breathing hard and slightly bruised, he suddenly shifted and as his hands went to his vest to pull another gun, more of Asif’s men piled into the apartment. You see the window of the room behind the boy, who was now closer to you and before anyone can shoot you, you charge the kid, hooking your arms around him, and drop out of it with a smirk, landing on a balcony you saw earlier.
The fall was hard on you two, although you grabbed the boy with all your might and rolled you both to soften the blow. Instantly he started to struggle and you hissed to him that his father had sent you, to which he replied that the other man had been sent by his father as well, which stunned you momentarily, but you grabbed his arm and pulled him with you, through another apartment and down more stairs. As more men came up the stairs, you shoved him into another nook and squeezed in after him until the men had passed, before dragging him further until you reached street level.
“Wait! My father couldn’t have sent you! You’re lying! Who are you?!” the kid whispered to you, again trying to drag his arm back.
“I know as much as you do, but Saju sent me to get you!” you hissed back, which seemed to confuse him.
“Saju sent you?” he looked at you with wide eyes before nodding and you took that as a sign that he wouldn’t scream bloody murder when you went out onto the street. Quickly pulling him behind you, you checked the street but saw nothing suspicious, your mind clearing more and more after the hits you took.
You made it a few blocks, trying to find another vehicle to get you out of the city faster, the boy following you obediently, seemingly trusting you a bit.
As you crossed another small intersection, looking around for more threats, you heard a vehicle approach and before you could react, the truck hit you and propelled you across the street and into a market stall, knocking all the air out of you.
The only thing you remembered before blacking out was the foreigner grabbing the boy and tugging him into the truck before speeding off…
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That's it for now, folks.
I haven't written in ages, so if you have any feedback, please feel free to leave it as a comment or in my DM's. :) It's always massively appreciated! I don't know where this will go, originally I wanted to write just a one-shot, but it got out of hand, haha! Guess I'm trying to establish the main storyline and later I'll do one-shots that fit into the context. Don't know yet though, don't quote me on that. :D Anyway, thanks for reading and I love y'all! ♥
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sil-te-plait-tue-moi · 23 days ago
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Quick summary: So, this is basically a rewrite of that one scene in American Assassin where Annika helps Mitch with his wound, except, here, there is no Annika, there is only Y/N.
Word count: 6.9K
Warnings: Lots of foul language; SMUUUUT (not that graphic detail, but I dunno whether this'll be too much for some of you guys); sort of a little bit of angst (it's basically just Y/N feeling lonely a lot).
A/N: This is my first time posting smut on Tumblr. Honestly, it wasn't that terrible writing it since I read a lot of it. However, there are only so many words to describe the breathing and the general thrusting of it all, so if it gets kind of repetitive, please be nice. Also, this is the same word count as my Newt story, so that's pretty neat. Anyway, have fun reading an everything. Here, Y/N is female, by the way.
The humming darkness sits heavily about the small, quaint flat, licking at our faces and at our souls as we both try to forget about the fact that we were knocking at Death’s door just a few short moments ago. I suppose that, because I’m more used to it, I'm much calmer than he is, greeting the darkness as an old friend – it's been with me for a while now, stalking me after my first mission, after the second, and then, to my shock, comforting me after the next. But Rapp—Rapp is experiencing that watched sort of feeling that all new recruits feel after their first mission, like there are judging, red eyes at every turn, analysing the way your hands are placed, the way your eyes are glazed over, the way your very footsteps fall unevenly wherever you go. I can see it so clearly; I can see how shaken he is from what happened at that physicist’s hotel room. Just from the way he’s so stiflingly silent, I know how numbingly afraid he is right now – that Rapp always has something to say, either cynical and sarcastic or brooding and intense, but, currently, my American assassin is finally quiet, tenderly cleaning the wound on his right side, the dazed look in his eyes only interrupted occasionally by split-second flashes of hot pain.
“Let me help you,” I sigh, prying the cloth from his hands – it’s obvious that he doesn’t know what he’s doing or what he should be doing, and so, since I have medical training, why shouldn’t I help him? Rapp tightens his hold on the cloth, alarm darting across his dark eyes. “Give me the cloth, Rapp,” I whisper under my breath, only just loud enough for him to hear, scared that if I raise my voice any higher, he’ll lash out at me. And, you know, I’ve seen him when he lashes out. It’s enough to ensure that I have an eye on him at all times, and enough to guarantee that I won’t be sleeping contentedly tonight.
Rapp sighs from deep within his chest, letting go of the taut cloth between us, then dragging a hand down, down, down his tired face. He attempts to fix the weaknesses in his eyes, on his expression, but I know that look of nauseated, prolonged terror far too intimately for me to just ignore it. He sits down silently on the edge of the cheap, squealing mattress, and wrings his hands together firmly. “You scared?” I ask with a smile teasing at my lips, trading the ragged cloth for an alcohol wipe, selecting some tape and a cotton bandage square as I do. I hear Rapp’s breathy scoff scraggle through the air from behind me – he’s probably wearing that annoying, condescending, arrogant look on his face again, isn’t he?
“Me? I’m not scared,” he says as decisively as he’s able to, letting out another chuckle just to persuade me so. But I’m not, of course – if anything, it’s just a confirmation of just how new and inexperienced (no matter what he or Hurley thinks) he is to this job. He’s trying so hard to prove himself worthy, to prove that he can detach his emotions and his humanity, pack it all up and hide them away in a box under the stairs, and go to work, but, by God, he’s going about it so wrong. He’s got to occupy himself properly, distract himself so that a tremor can’t find his voice. He should take a shower, make a strong drink, make conversation. He shouldn’t be sulking on the edge of the bed. He’s so still, so small in this room, that it makes it all the easier for me to point out the emotions of anger, shock, terror, guilt, and longing on his face. Frowning, I sit next to him on the bed, pushing his arm out of the way (to which he responds with a low grunt) and press the alcohol wipe right on to his wound. Rapp hisses loudly, flinching away. I meet his eyes, and then he seems to remember that he’s supposed to be acting tough, resumes his seating position, and dutifully allows me to continue cleaning the ugly, bruising wound across his ribs, this time wearing a painfully controlled, neutral mask.
“What about you? Aren’t you afraid at all?” He turns to me, eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t act afraid.”
I grin widely, laying the bandage flat against his warm skin, “I’ve been at this for quite a while, now, so you can understand. You should stop trying to act so tough, though.” I tape down each side of the cotton square, sliding my thumb smoothly against the masking tape in order to secure it properly. Rapp inhales sharply and rolls his neck.
“I’m not trying to act tough,” he protests, mumbling a small thanks afterwards.
“Uh-huh,” I say, replacing the supplies back on the table where they came from. I can feel his eyes following my movements, calm and steady and unblinking. I glance back around at him, hoping to maybe catch his eye, but he quickly averts his gaze to the surveillance cam. Perhaps a part of me is looking for that distraction I mentioned earlier. But, knowing what happened to him with his little girlfriend and all, he’d definitively reject my advances and then the entire dynamic we have, the one where I’m not soft with him and he’s not soft with me, gets utterly and totally ruined. Besides, it’s bad luck to fuck a colleague, right? I turn around and, this time, his eyes remain on mine. Tilting my head, I quickly run my eyes over him, over his wide chest and broad shoulders, over his rolling skin and well-built arms. I don’t want him to feel objectified or anything, but I’m not against him being aware of the fact that I wouldn’t mind him taking me against the wall.
“Hey, uh,” Rapp hesitates, clearing his throat and pointing up at the clouded bruising across my face and neck, “is that—are you alright? Want me to help you?”
I snort, “Rapp, it’s just a bruise – it’ll go away just fine.”
“That American was a real asshole. He shouldn’t’ve hit you—”
I cut him off, eyes narrowing, “But he hit you.”
“Yeah, but he shouldn’t’ve hit you.”
I pour myself a glass of tangy water, and ask him, “Because I’m a girl, eh?” A small part of my brain hardens at this possibility – it was difficult enough to clamber my way into the field because of the fact that my training program was predominantly male and my assessor was inherently sexist. Even when it was clear I was the best, I can just recall the leering sneer that pulled at his face when he sent man after man into the field just to spite me. “I can fight just as well as you,” I tell him firmly before I allow the fuzzy water to coat my tongue and slide down my throat.
Rapp smiles, “I know. You fight real good. I liked the part where you stabbed that one guy's foot.” Laughing, I brush the hair out of my face, acknowledging the fact that little Rapp actually just smiled a genuine smile. He continues, “I didn’t mean anything by it, but he really didn’t have to hit you or anything.”
“And he had to with you?”
“Well, I am a pretty big dickhead.”
I hum in agreement and he smiles again. He looks nice when he smiles; his eyes crinkle at the edges endearingly and the lines of his face run gold with something mutedly attractive that I can’t quite place. My hands itch to touch him, but, instead, I tighten them both around the glass. I think he notices. “I’m gonna go take a bath,” I say to him, trying to prevent myself from putting him in a situation he probably doesn’t want to be put in. He nods and smiles up at me. I gently put the foggy glass on the table behind me and, before I make my way into the bathroom, place a cold hand upon his warm and bare shoulder in a comforting way, I hope. His skin feels like it’s draped with rich silk against my calloused, unworthy palm, and the fresh and faded scars alike feel grainy and rough to the touch. Rapp’s breath hitches at contact, so I quickly pull my hand away and walk over to the bathroom, beginning to run a cold bath to help my bruises fade away faster.
I sit alone on the edge of the bathtub, watching, mesmerised, as the water fills higher and higher and higher. The water is ice-cold when I dip my hand in, biting and nipping at my fingertips as I do so. I’m about to start undressing when Rapp promptly enters the white room. “Fucking hell, Rapp. What’re you doing?” I shoot, though also with a smile on my face, quickly turning off the running tap. “You scared me.”
His eyes dart around the room nervously as he bites his lip and swallows hard. I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. Rapp starts shaking his head lightly, and then leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
I sit in a confused silence for a few heartbeats, and, just when I reach for the hem of my black shirt, he enters again, but this time unhesitating and walking straight for me, bending down, his hand grabbing my chin softly and tilting my head up towards him. Rapp presses his chapped lips against mine, his eyes screwed shut as if he’s forcing his way through this, maybe even as if he’s imagining somebody else in my place. I should stop this, I think to myself as he angles my head to the side and reaches a hand into my hair, his thumb playing at my earlobe. If he doesn’t want to do this, why is he? The very reason he got involved with the CIA in the first place is because of her, because of his girl who died – I know that she’s the very reason he’s still functioning, and if she came back to life and told him to kill me, he would, so, clearly, he isn’t ready to move on. His nose presses against my cheek, exhaling hot air onto my hot skin.
“I haven’t slept with anyone since Katrina,” he whispers against my lips, eyes still shut.
I reply, “We don’t have to. You don’t need to.”
“But I want to,” he whines. “I’ve been so fucking lonely for the past two years.”
I get to my feet, hands running over his shoulders, over his arms, his neck, his hair, his back, and kiss him again, deeply, sighing when his hands wrap around my waist. He pulls me impossibly close to him, fingers apprehensively playing with the bottom of my shirt, perhaps contemplating whether or not to go through with this. I let him think – I don’t want him to feel pressured – bringing my hands to rest on the sides of his face, pricked and poked at by his short stubble, resting my forehead against his, our panting breaths mixing sinfully between us. “Mitch,” I whisper.
His eyes open. I never call him by his first name – never. Calling him Rapp maybe helps me to distance myself from him – first names are too familiar, a symbol of friendship and intimacy and knowing, so I always tend to avoid using them. For everybody, not just for him. “Call me that again,” he says quietly.
So, I do: “Mitch—” he kisses the corner of my mouth, “Mitch—” he kisses the point at which my jaw and my neck meet, “Mitch—” he kisses my mouth sweetly, lifting the shirt off of my body. Perhaps his name is a key to him; perhaps he and his girlfriend used to do this as well. I murmur again, “Mitch,” and he tangles his fingers in my hair. “Touch me.”
“I am touching you, sweet girl,” he smiles against my skin.
I run my hands over the ridges of his belt, “Mitch.” His erection presses against my stomach through the rough fabric of his jeans. His hands glide down my back, eliciting little goosebumps all across my body. Rapp sits me back down on the rim of the bathtub, coaxing my thighs apart as he kneels between them. I silently undo my trousers and slide them off, leaving my underwear on to give him another chance to back out. I’m sure he will, this time, but he just doesn’t. He only pulls them down my legs and looks me right in the eye before burying his tongue deep into my leaking pussy. I cry out loud, and then immediately bite into the back of my hand to muffle any other noises I’ll inevitably make. My other hand attaches tightly into Rapp’s dark mess of hair, twisting so hard that he lets out a little sound of pain that reverberates throughout my core, and I utter a small apology.
All I can think about, as he savours me, is how long it's been since I've had the time to fuck somebody. Doing this job, this type of work, always means that I have to put my mission before myself. I've gone a whole year without sex before, you know, and the person who helped break my celibacy wasn't even that satisfactory. Rapp's nose pushes against my clit, and my toes curl tightly in response, hips rolling upwards rhythmically in a way that's instinctive and primal. His large hands dig slightly into my legs as he draws even closer still. Fuck, what a shame it is that I probably won't fuck anyone for months after this – his touch will be haunting across my skin for an age, it'll seem, and I'm not sure any other person will make me feel anything quite like to how I'm feeling now, like my entire being is on fire and, somehow, me being thankful for it.
"Fuck," I mumble against my hand, biting at my knuckles when Rapp's tongue slides roughly against the roof of my pussy. My hand is slick with my saliva, now, and my fingers are throbbing with hurt from how I'd just clenched my teeth around them harshly. I bring my hand away from my mouth, "Fuck, Mitch—" he hums lowly, the vibrations of his voice making me pause in ecstasy for just a few more seconds, "—fuck, I'm gonna cum."
At this, Rapp pulls away from me slightly and looks up, his chin shining with my juices, his brown eyes heavy and drowned with lust. Good. Good to know I can make him feel that way to, I think to myself. And then something glazes over his eyes – God, what is it? Is it mischief? I hold his gaze for what seems like a lifetime, trying not to come across as desperate or needy for his touch. My pussy aches and sobs in protest, wanting nothing more than for me to unbuckle his jeans, tug down his underwear, and swallow the whole length of him. I feel my clit pound and pound as this fantasy flashes before me. I run my fingers gently through Rapp's hair, hoping to signal for him to go back down on me, but all he does is continue to linger his gaze on my sweating and heaving face. He becomes aware of himself after a couple more moments filled only with the sound of the toilet's buzzing extractor fan, and lowers his heavenly mouth back onto my weeping cunt. Though, now, he takes his goddamn time with it. His tongue strokes firmly against the walls of me, putting just the right pressure in all the correct places.
It somehow feels even better than before. Fuck, the way he's having me is like he hasn't eaten for weeks, hasn't felt sweet taste play about in his mouth for years, hasn't been familiar with the weight of a meal on his tongue for decades. And it feels so good. It almost makes me entirely forget that my hands are still stained with a rubbery coat of someone else's dried blood, that my very face stings with the aftermath of that American mercenary's punch, that my arms threaten to go limp with exhaustion at any moment. If it hadn't been for the remnants of adrenaline coursing through my veins earlier, I wouldn't've given him a look in the first place, and I'm sure that it's the same way for him.
I finish hard on his tongue as he sucks slowly on my clit, my grip tightening effectively on his hair and making him groan into my pussy. "Good girl. Good fuckin' girl," he says under his breath, thinking that I'm not able to hear him. I bite back a whimper, trying to stop the fluttering sensation overwhelming my legs. My eyes fall shut as I try to compose myself – Rapp wipes his chin and scrapes off the excess of me onto his chest, leaning back to assume a kneeling position of prayer before me. "You alright?" He asks me, his words rasping from his throat, ever so slightly slurred together like that of a drunkard's. All I can do is nod sporadically, attempting to shake off the relaxation of the post-orgasm feeling, wanting to step back into the role of the always aware, always ready CIA agent who doesn't let anything faze her. Sex – good sex – makes the guarded part of me strip back and leave the rest all exposed. It makes me say things I don't want to say and promise things I shouldn't promise. I can't slip up with Mitch. Rapp, I mean.
I open my eyes and watch him get to his feet, biting his lip softly as his eyes roam and trace my only slightly, I'm sure, exhausted form. "Well, what?—do you wanna stop?" He says, his voice laced with concern as well as the look on his face.
"No, I was just—" I trail off, not knowing how to word it without embarrassing myself. Rapp grins; his body tenses like he's about to move towards me, but then, ultimately, relaxes when he decides to stay where he is. "Do you wanna stop?" I ask him pointedly, knowing that he has more holding him back than I do.
"No," he says confidently, and I believe him.
I run my thumb under the circumference of my bra, feeling my skin become irritated by the combination of its coarse, old fabric and the sheen of sweat covering my body. "Well, d'you want me to go down on you?"
Rapp laughs out loud, bringing a hand up to hover around and hide his smile. I just look up at him earnestly, biting the inside of my cheek. "Uh, yeah, but do you want to? I don't want you to do anything you don't want to."
I all but get down on my knees in front of him, backing him up, up until his back rests comfortably against the plain wall behind us. The radiator hums beside his unsteady legs. "You nervous?" I ask him as I unbuckle his belt with nimble fingers, and it thuds against the floor when I pull the thing off. Rapp shrugs and makes a face down at me, something between a smile and a frown, but doesn't reply beyond that. Katrina's most likely running through his mind. How lucky he is to have felt, to feel, so strongly about another human being. I can't say I've had the experience – detached mother, detached and dead father, one dead sibling, one estranged childhood friend, my current boss, and that's about it. No relationships worth mentioning. But Rapp – he had his best friend and his girlfriend wrapped up in one person, and he had her for years. Maybe if this had been a different situation, I would feel raging jealously for him, but, now, I only take off his jeans and palm him lightly through his underwear. The all but helpless noises that escape his mouth are enough to silence my every thought.
He scrawls out my name. "Please. Stop teasing." And his hand grabs a handful of my hair. I smile and pull down his underwear, and he watches down at me with dark, drunk eyes as his head tips slightly backwards.
Grinning, I look at his dick and then up at his face – thank God that he's heavy; I was counting on him being large enough to make me feel good and forget about anything and everything else – making him blush and attempt to hide his face in his shoulder. As my mouth moves to envelop the tip of him, Rapp’s head thumps harshly back against the wall and the grip on my hair increases until his knuckles go white with the force. I lay my tongue nice and flat against his head, enjoying the salty taste of his pre-cum skipping on my tastebuds. My hands come to rest at the backs of his thighs, tensing and pulling him closer when I take him deeper into my mouth. I don’t particularly like giving oral – not in the personally pleasurable way that Rapp seemed to have – but I rather like being the one in control and knowing it. His gasps and his moans and his sobs give me all the validation I need, and it goes straight to my burning core. I suppose this need of being in control affects all parts of my life – for work, I need a congratulations of a job well-done from my superior if I’m to be satisfied; when I went to school, I needed the best grades from my teachers in order to be sane; even as a small kid, I wanted my parents to give me constant validation (which they didn’t give me; maybe that’s why I remember my childhood as being an unhappy one). It’s only reasonable that all this is amplified through the passion of sex, isn’t it? Everything that he says or does makes me feel almost happy because I know that I’m doing a good job. When the words “good girl” tumble from his mouth again, I take him even deeper into my mouth, fighting the persistent urge to gag with tears springing at my eyes, wanting nothing more than to make him feel good so that I can feel good.
Rapp warns me that he’s about to cum, but I’m already too filled up with him for me to not swallow anything, so, when his whole body contracts and convulses, I drink everything that he gives me, my jaw working fluidly around his length in order to do so. He watches me in a trance, perhaps hypnotised by the way I take it so well. Rapp leans forward a little to look at me better – fuck, he just keeps cumming and cumming and cumming, his climax heightened by the fact that he hasn’t fucked anyone in a long time. His hand strokes my hair tenderly as his body starts to relax. “Oh, fuck, darlin’,” he chuckles at the ceiling. “Fuck, come here—” he whispers, and wraps an arm around my waist to pull me close when I comply with a smile and get to my feet. His tongue delves into my breathless mouth – I taste myself on him, and he tastes himself on me. His hips grind instinctively against my thigh, and I snake my hands into his hair, fingertips brushing against his scalp and making him moan softly, brokenly into me.
“Are we gonna have sex in a fucking bathroom, Rapp?” I grin against his neck, nipping softly at the running, blue vein just by his jaw. He lifts one of my legs up and starts to grind himself against my cunt, his cock growing hard once again.
“By the way, I have a—I’ve got a question,” he stutters as I suck gently on his neck. “I-I—fuck—I wanna take you from behind.” I hum curiously, laughing when Rapp ducks his head and kisses and licks at the swell of my breasts. He continues quietly, “I wanna do something you haven’t done before, something you’re gonna remember me by. You ever been fucked from behind?” Trying desperately to hide the blush on my face and neck, I tell him that, no, I haven’t. “I’ll take you again, if you want, but let me have you from the back first. Please.”
I nod shakily, ignoring the rush it gives me that Rapp wants me to remember him. With this job, it’s common—no, it’s expected to work with a partner once and then never talk to or see them again. Never even think about them. But I’ll take advantage of Mitch Rapp’s naïvety and humanity just this once, and I’ll let him think it’s okay to remember me so that I can remember him. Just this once.
“Do we—do you have a condom?” I ask, stepping backwards from him, my heart racing and my legs aching like I’ve just ran straight for miles and miles.
Rapp sighs and shakes his head, “No. No, I didn’t really think I’d be having sex on this mission, so, no, I don’t have a condom.” He finishes with a light smile before raising his hand to his lips and biting at his nails.
I pause to think, rubbing one shoulder consciously. “Well, can you pull out before you cum?” I ask, running my tongue over my teeth. I’ve never given that responsibility to a man before because, well, I don’t really like men, all in all. I always use protection. I’ve never had unprotected sex before. I haven’t trusted any other man with, you know, pulling out, purely because I’m sure they’d betray my trust and cum inside me anyway. And I might get pregnant with some skeez’s baby. Getting pregnant would sabotage my job, and the people here would think I’m less capable than the other agents – I don’t want that. But I don’t think Rapp would do that, so that’s why I’m giving him the option.
Rapp nods and runs his hand over his chin, “Yeah, sure, I’ll tell you when I’m near and I’ll stop. But are you alright with this?” A nervous smile plays on his face. “I just wanna check, ‘cause, you know, I’m sure you don’t wanna get pregnant, right?” I nod. “Right. And I’m clean, by the way. Nothing bad from me.”
I smile at him.
He guides me leisurely into the dimly lit and peeling bedroom, kissing my neck and my shoulders, and gives me enough room to position myself accordingly on one of the two beds in here – I choose the right because it’s the furthest from the window (through which a sharpshooter could potentially kill the both of us), breathing heavily as I get onto my hands and my knees like a fucking dog.
Rapp places himself carefully behind me, his warm body heat glowing onto my skin. His breath hitches nervously. Before he enters me, I quickly unclasp my bra because it’s bothering me, what with the temperature and all, and he helps me to shrug it off with delicate fingers ghosting against my shoulders. Both of us inhale and exhale deeply, about four times each, and then Rapp pushes his tip into me. My pussy instantly clenches as a reflex, making Rapp hiss and hesitate. And inch by inch, he eases inside. I battle the instinct to just scream and push him away because it fucking hurts like I’m being cut and pried open with a knife, partly because it’s been a while since I last had sex, but also because Rapp’s really quite big in comparison to the other few people I’ve fucked. “Wait—wait a second,” I force out quickly—and Rapp immediately stops.
“You alright?” He asks tentatively, leaning forward slightly to try and catch a glimpse of my face. Unfortunately, this motion of his is quite quick, and he accidentally pushes a little deeper inside, eliciting a small grunt of pain from me. “Shit, sorry. Do you want me to—should we stop? Do you want to stop? Should I pull out?”
I shake my head. “It just hurts a little bit.” I probably should’ve asked him to finger me a little before we started. “Can we just wait for a bit? So that I can get a little more used to—to you?”
“Yeah, yeah, sure,” he answers, his hands massaging soothingly at my hips and waist to try and perhaps distract me from the pain.
“Sorry, by the way,” I say to him.
“What? Don’t worry about it – it’s not a big deal.”
“I know, but it’s just that I haven’t—” I start shaking my head, “—I haven’t been with anyone in a while either. Not as long as you, though.”
Rapp is silent for a few heartbeats and, for a moment, I’m terrified that I’ve vexed him somehow. But then, he laughs breathily and rubs small circles into my hips with his thumbs. He doesn’t say anything, though – to be fair, if I were him and he’d said that to me, I wouldn’t know how to respond to either.
My walls start to loosen around Rapp, more comfortable now that I’m more used to the size of him. I tell him that he can move if he wants to, and he kisses my shoulder and says, “I’ll go all the way in, and then we can wait a little if you need to adjust a bit more, alright?” I nod eagerly, wondering how bad it would hurt if I just moved back all the way and swallowed the rest of him right now, if I went against the sensible part of my brain and gave into that primitive side of me that just doesn’t care. My stomach coils as Rapp grips my hips securely and continues to drive himself gradually, gradually into me. My hands ball into fists around the muted, floral bedsheets, and I work impossibly hard to keep my breathing rate normal – I don’t want Rapp thinking that I’m too thrown off by him or his size; it’d just feed his ego even further. His breath fails him as soon as he fills me to the hilt, leaving him a winded mess behind me – it almost seems like he’d been holding his breath as well. We pause just like that – I let my head droop down to face the mattress, chest heaving; Rapp shuffles in his spot, trying to find the most comfortable position for the both of us.
“Are you—does it feel good?” Rapp ventures tentatively, one of his hands descending under my stomach to offer a little more support.
I swallow hard and tell him, “Mm-hmm. You can move, now.”
He doesn’t straight away, perhaps capturing the feeling of sitting heavy inside me just like I am. But then, his hips gri-i-ind against my backside, powerfully and so excruciatingly deliberate, drawing a moan and a sigh from me. He does this again, once, twice, thrice, and I feel myself become wetter and wetter with each of his actions. I find myself pressing back against him in response, delighted at the friction between us. And then he starts to bleed his movements progressively into thrusts, increasing the aggression of them as he goes along. A pleasant buzz pulsates throughout my body, especially between my legs, as Mitch – Rapp – slams his hips harder and harder and harder until I just can’t hold back the effect he’s having on me – my mouth falls open, leaving pants and whimpers and sobs and whines and sighs escape freely; my arms give out from beneath me, my entire body weight shifted forwards and allowing Rapp to drive himself even harder and faster and deeper into my poor, little pussy.
My name falls from his mouth as a small moan that travels straight to the point where our bodies join together, making me cry out in pleasure: "Oh, Mitch!" He leans forward until his chest rests over my squirming back, his breath condensing upon my shoulders and neck until they're damp and slick and hot. Mitch becomes more and more vigorous – I glance over my shoulder just quickly, Mitch darting out of the way just a little in order not to get hit by my displaced hair, and almost cum at the very sight of his face, of his open mouth, of his dark brown curls plastered thickly against his forehead, eyes filled to the brim with lust as they fixate on mine own. I watch him as he lets out a low, rumbling groan as my walls clench and squeeze tight around his cock, and his eyes screw shut and his head tips back as he curses under his breath.
"Jesus Christ, Mitch, I'm nearly—I'm gonna cum," I pant in desperation, turning my head back around and tilting it upwards in order to get enough air into my fluttering lungs.
"That's it, sweet girl," he says as the hand on my stomach travels down to that golden spot between my legs, earnestly rubbing my throbbing clit. "That's it. Be a good girl and cum all over my fuckin' cock."
And how can I not when he tells me to like that? How can I not feel that scalding coil within me unfurl and wrap around Mitch as my cunt squeezes and flexes around him? My hot liquids spurt around his shaft, the world turning a spinning and blurry black for a couple heartbeats.
Mitch's hips falter in pace, and he pulls out swiftly and finishes all over the sheets, his moans ringing out through the air as he gently holds himself in the large, flat palm of his left hand. Thick ribbons of his cum spill across his fingers, which he wipes upon the bedsheets. Heavy breaths are forced through his open mouth, and he sloppily shifts himself into a seating position, leaning back on both of his arms with his brown, honey-like eyes analysing me as I roll onto my back, eyes closed, still feeling myself drift through sunlit clouds just beneath the heavens. I suspect he feels the same.
"Shit, Mitch," I puff, eyes ebbing into focus on the textured, cream ceiling above. Mitch laughs breathily and rubs my knee tenderly. He moves to lie down next to me, his stubble scrubbing lightly against my skin as he kisses my left shoulder, and bites it gently.
"I—do you want to—to go again? I can take you again if you’d like," Mitch says with his voice layered with a slight eagerness that makes my thighs clench together, only a little, and, when I look over at him, his eyes fixed impossibly levelly on mine. I'm sure that not even meteors raining down and setting fire to the world could direct his attention away from me in this moment – there's just something in those brown depths that make me feel like I'm completely alone with him on Earth right now, like there's no mission, no targets, no threats, no people. It's just Mitch and I.
I nod in response to his question.
"D'you want me to stretch you out a little? Need help getting wet again?" Mitch asks me as he reaches a hand down to slowly run a finger through my folds. Both of our breaths hitch as the tip of his finger pushes into me just slightly.
"I'm plenty wet already," I tell him, and this is confirmed when he withdraws his hand and the underside of his finger is all glistening and shining with me. Mitch licks my juices off of him and sighs contentedly.
And so, he shifts himself to be on top of me, arms bracing either side of my head. He whispers lowly, "Are you alright like this?" I tell him that I am, and I wrap one hand around the back of his neck, playing at the hairs at its nape. I kiss his jaw sweetly as he rubs himself against my stomach to get himself harder, and pull his head down to cradle into the crook of my neck. He positions himself at my entrance with my help – I hold his cock heavy in my hand and guide it towards me – and my hand digs at his back and his shoulder blades when he smoothly rolls his hips up and enters me—fully. I bite down on his shoulder as he lets out a rumbling moan, my legs widening for him instinctively. He begins pounding into me at a relentless pace, laying wet and open-mouthed upon my neck, making me mewl and claw at his back with bared nails. I grab at his ass and push him further still into me, feeling so full that I can barely breathe. The sound of our sighs and the slapping together of our skin presses at the walls of the hotel room, expanding and expanding as our bodies both begin to contract. Mitch raises his head, pressing his sweating forehead to mine, gasping, "Oh, fuck, I'm not gonna last long, darlin'. Are you close?"
"Nearly," I reply, my eyes locking on his fucking perfect face, moaning as I feel his cock twitch inside of me.
"Come on," he huffs, propping himself up further on one hand with his other throwing my left leg over his rippling shoulder, grunting with effort as he does. He doesn't miss a single fucking beat, and I cry out in pleasure when Mitch reaches that heavenly spot inside of me. Gold pulses through my veins, building and building pressure until I'm cumming hard around him, convulsing grossly against his comforting body as I call out his name in a pathetic whine.
"Shit!" Mitch exclaims, jerking himself out of me and spilling himself all over my chest and stomach. I squeeze my legs together securely, making sure that none of his cum sprays into me. "Sorry," he says thickly, his hot breath fanning over my skin.
Mitch collapses to the side of me as he watches me smear his cum off of my chest, cleaning off the excess upon the already-ruined bedsheets. I wipe the side of my face as well – yes, some of it reached my face – and then sit up and brush the hair away from my face with slick hands. "I'm gonna go clean up," I tell the breathless Mitch.
"Do you need help?" He asks, but I don't look at him. I just shake my head, tell him no, and walk by myself into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. The musty, stifling air of sex and lust is left behind in the bedroom – the air is clean and innocent in here. I climb into the bathtub of cold water, feeling adrenaline and desire seep out of my body like blood out of a wound, exhaling deeply as I tip back my head and close my eyes to a fierce, exhausting, perpetual and swirling black.
Once I finish bathing, I dry myself and get dressed into the clothes littered carelessly across the bathroom’s tiled floor, frowning at the stain I left in my underwear. I drain the bath and turn off the lights, exiting the bathroom only to find Mitch dead asleep on the clean bed to the left of the room. I scowl at the right bed – I don’t want to sleep on all that mess, I think to myself – and curl up beside the sleeping assassin silently and facing him, eyes tracing the shapes and lines of his face.
“Mitch,” I whisper, but he doesn’t answer. I know that this’ll all be forgotten as soon as I close my eyes and fall asleep, so I opt to stay awake for as long as possible. We won’t talk in the morning, will we? Our mindsets will both switch back to purely professional, and the most conversation we’ll have is the barking of orders at each other when we have the barrels of our guns to other people’s heads, only thinking of the aim of the mission and how to get there. He’d probably leave me for dead if he had to; he wouldn’t fight to the death to protect me. I need to stop trying to find myself in others, I tell myself yet again – I suppose this is the long-term effect of utter loneliness. If we had met under different circumstances, if I hadn’t taken this job all that time ago, I wonder: Could he like me and could I like him? It’s impossible to imagine – the closest shot I’ll get at a relationship with him is if we continue to be partners and we keep sleeping with each other casually like this. There won’t be buying a house and living together. No marriage, no children, no growing old with each other. None of the normal stuff. Because people like us don’t really deserve happiness anymore.
“Mitch,” I say again, louder this time.
He groans as his eyes open heavily.
I realise I don’t have anything to say, so I just keep looking and looking at him.
He smiles.
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gaypizzacowboy · 26 days ago
I don't change aesthetics, I change which fictional character I base my personality around
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lil-stark · a month ago
ever think about how your favourite character changed you and just fall in love with them even more? i started drinking black coffee cause it reminded me of dean and also bucky,,just small things like that but it makes me think of them every morning
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scaramoucheslove · a month ago
thirst thirst thirst
currently thinking abt Zhongli being a hard dom gn AAAA pls all imagine testing that man to his limits and since u wanna be such a brat, he needs to teach u a lil’ lesson. After he teases and edges u for hours, he overstimulates u until you cry bc that’s such an ego boost for him to see you so weak  (also he’d preferably do it somewhere where everyone can see and humiliates you while doing so) also he’ll deffo say some shit that includes dumbification like “You haven’t been responding well to me. Can you speak no more? Tsk, nothing more to expect from a mere mortal.” while pulling your hair  BARK BRK
 I BEG sir pls use me as you want i’m so- gn is this too much to ask for </3
also send in requests im bored
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