#why was I ready to bark for his attention | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gay-dorito-dust · 3 days

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Hi! I hope your doing well while you read this request! May I ask for HSR Men (Jing Yuan, Blade, Dan Heng, Welt and maybe Boothill) their reaction when after 2 weeks of disappearance from their s/o because of a mission, they came back to them all exhausted and slightly injured. If I can be more precise, can you describe how they acted when they had no news of their s/o et their reaction when they came back please?

Thank you for the attention you’ll give to this request ! I hope you’ll have a great day/night!

-🩵✨

This is a long one, so brace yourselves! And have a great morning/evening/night! 🦦🐿️

Blade

‘Where have you been?’ Blade hissed, anger laced his voice as he drags you to the nearest surface and eased you on it, keen to avoid worsening your wounds.

‘I was on a mission.’ You sassed, not wanting this to be your first conversation back from a near death experience.

‘I know that,’ he barks as he rummaged through the cabinets for a first aid kit, uncaring do the mess he was making in the process, ‘you’ve been on a mission for two fucking weeks and not once did it come to mind to keep in contact during that time?’ He adds, looking at you with a look that wasn’t angry but instead scared.

Blade had spent the past two weeks going utterly insane form the lack of communication on your end. At first he didn’t think much but by day 12, Blade was more or less ready to included himself in your mission. Unfortunately according to Elio, this wasn’t apart of the script and Blade was made to stay on the sidelines and await your return.

It wouldn’t take long before you came home but you came home in the worst of conditions that Blade had ever seen you in recent memory, and that made him extremely upset. Not at you though, more or less at the person or thing that made those wounds on you.

Communications were down, I had no way of telling you anything.’ You replied, having already grown annoyed at his constant pestering and prodding.

‘Well you should’ve.’ Blade muttered gruffly as he gently took your arm into his hand and examined the wound and had to bite his tongue from saying anything else, but found that task to be a bit too difficult for him. ‘Then I could’ve stopped them from hurting you.’ He added.

You groaned and punched your brow with your free hand, all you wanted to do was go to sleep but couldn’t help but feel warm on the inside at the idea of Blade getting revenge on your behalf. ‘That’s not necessary.’ You told him, trying hard not to wince as he cleaned your wound.

‘And why not?’ He asks, noticing your attempts and wordlessly tries a different approach in cleaning your wound.

‘They’re all dead.’ You replied nonchalantly and Blade couldn’t help but smile. ‘That’s my partner.’ He says but the smile soon falls as he finished patching your wound and looks you dead in the eyes. ‘However the next time you’re sent on a long mission I’m coming with, no excuses.’

You groan again, there was no winning with this man.

Jing yuan was trusting in your abilities to keep yourself safe but the longer he went without update of you nor progression of the mission, Jing Yuan grew worried that something had happened.

He already lost a lot, he didn’t need your loss on top of all that. He lost hope on appreciating that he was living once, he knew that if anything happened to you he would relapse into those old ways but with no chance of recovery.

He would try and fail many attempts of making contact with you, only to be met with static as a responses which didn’t exactly help his hope in seeing you that slowly began to dwindle the longer he tried, until he stopped trying all together.

In his mind you were gone a long time ago and he should start his grieving while he could.

However you did come back, but not exactly in the best shape…you were wounded and exhausted but to Jing Yuan you never looked more alive in that moment as he was quick to get you medical attention. Not once did the general think to leave your leave your side as you laid out on the bed, wounds patched up and fast asleep from everything.

He even slept in the chair next to your bed, making sure your sleep went undisturbed and had a familiar face to wake up to as to not feel misplaced somewhere foreign. Jing Yuan didn’t feel entirely comfortable in leaving you alone during this time, especially when you’re vulnerable and susceptible to a plethora of things.

Not when he barely avoided a possibility of never seeing you again. He didn’t care for the reasons why you couldn’t contact him, those can wait for another time, he only cared that you were back by his side and alive.

So he’d fall asleep with his hand laced with yours and his head resting on your lap, acting like your personal guard dog as he kept his body facing towards the door in the instant he had to protect you.

No one would take you from him again, mission or not, you were staying by his side from now on, generals orders.

Dan heng didn’t think much when you didn’t reach out and tell him about the things you’ve found that he might like whilst away, however that didn’t mean he didn’t have a bad feeling about all of it.

He did but he couldn’t prove why as it was too early into the mission to say why he felt that way. Dan Heng always trusted his instincts when it came moments of uncertainty as they’ve always been proven correct. However this was the one time where he really didn’t want that to be the case.

Yet the longer he went without the regular flow of communication between the two of you during missions, Dan Heng felt himself break out into a cold sweat during the night and out of breath from experiencing another nightmare where you didn’t come back from this mission, leaving him utterly heartbroken and lost for the rest of his days.

He couldn’t close his eyes for a single second without the nightmare flooding back to haunt him of a potential future without you, his other half.

He even had nightmares where you were calling out to him for help but he couldn’t hear them and was forced by an higher power to ignore your soundless cries and walk away unbothered. Those were the nightmares Dan Heng hated the most as there would never be a moment in his life where he would ever leave you to such a cruel fate; He’d be more than gladly suffer with you than ever abandon you.

So the moment you came home wounded and exhausted, Dan Heng didn’t waste time in getting you to medical, taking everything the doctor told him to help you heal seriously as your newly appointed caregiver. Some of the time he came across as strict but he meant well as all he wanted was for you to get better and soon, seeing as how you gave him the biggest fright of his life.

He doesn’t let anyone else near you.

You can blame it on his dragon noodle side as it grew overprotective of the fact that you -his mate- were in seemingly left in a vulnerable state. He didn’t care to listen to the reasonings as to why he should let anyone else come near you, not without knowing their intentions in descriptive depth, he could take care of you himself perfectly fine and without any outside help.

He was your partner, you were his responsibility but this was all just an excuse to hide the fact that Dan Heng was genuinely scared of letting you out of his sight, even if it was for five minutes because a lot could happen in five minutes. So now he stays close to you from then on as a precaution, holding your hand in his and squeezing it as thought he was trying to convince himself that you were actually with him weeks afterwards.

Boothill didn’t like the idea of you being so far from him and much preferred for you to stay in contact if you were going to be so far away from him for so long.

However nothing seemed to want to go the way he wanted as soon as he found that he couldn’t contact you. None of his messages were going through and neither were his calls, as he read and reread the message that said you were out of the area for his messages to get through to you.

Boothill grew more and more restless the longer his texts didn’t go through, still claiming you were out of the area, whatever the hell that means and had to actively find ways to de stress because of how often he found himself on the verge of blasting anything and everything that moved.

You were his anchor, his partner in crime and his voice of reason, without you Boothill was teetering on the brink of becoming everyone’s problem should you spend even another hour more away from him.

So when you did come back with wounds scarred across your body and looking as though you were on the brink of collapse, Boothill was made more worried than before. Your wounds weren’t very deep nor life threatening but Boothill didn’t care, you were hurt and he wasn’t made aware of it for the past two weeks.

He wanted to hunt down the bastards who made those wounds on your body and make them pay, regardless if they had a bounty on their heads or not, he’d gladly hunt them down just to set an example as to why you don’t fuck with Boothill’s loved one.

‘Don’t.’ You croaked, grabbing his hand. ‘Just stay with me and make everything okay cowboy.’

Boothill, not one to argue with you, especially not in your current state, obeyed your wish and stayed by your side as you slowly but surely recovered from your wounds with scars left behind as reminders.

Though that didn’t stop him from going off behind your back to hunt the bastards down, he never could let go of a grudge after all.

Welt basically worried himself sick when he didn’t hear anything from you the first couple of days, but was soon talked down from doing anything rash that could potentially put you in even more danger, regardless of his intention of being by your side.

Welt was restless for the remainder of the two weeks, double checking his phone for anything that could push him over the edge and force him into acting.

What happened to you?

Why weren’t you responding?

Were you hurt?

Were you in danger and he didn’t know?

So many thoughts floated in welt’s mind as he was left feeling powerless as he was forced to await your return, hoping that all his thoughts were just that, meaningless thoughts that had no real affect in reality.

He was wrong.

You did come home but you came back with some new wounds and a face that screamed exhaustion. You barely took one step before collapsing into Welt’s arms as he got you medical help.

‘What happened out there?’ He’d calmly ask one day as he held your hand, thumb rubbing the back of it reassuringly.

‘Communications were down,’ you told him as you squeezed his hand, just happy to be back home and with him, ‘then the mission went south as I found myself out of my depth on several occasions, I’m sorry Welt.’ You finish weakly.

‘There’s nothing to be sorry for.’ Welt reassures as he presses a kiss to your forehead. ‘Not all missions go according to plan and all that matters right now is that you’re safe, so please don’t apologise for things beyond your control.’ He adds as he watched you slowly drift to sleep, still feeling a little exhausted from the mission and everything that happened.

Welt stayed awake for a little while longer to commemorate this moment to memory, to treasure it during the moments when you were to be apart from one another again, but until that time Welt would hold you as close as he possibly could and keep you safe to the best of his abilities. Your safety meant a lot to him and he’d rather jeopardise his own safety if it meant that you’d never get hurt again, he’d do it in a heartbeat because that’s just how much you meant to him and todays events only solidified that.

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clone-whore-99 · 2 months

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Ngl, Crosshair clicking his tongue the way he did, to get Batcher to follow him, should not have the effect on me, that it had...

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notmyneighbor · 1 month

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Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 6

Word Count ~ 3.9k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ sexual content

Also available on AO3

taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher @fishfetus @gaudesstuff @nekee-lilac02

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

Early morning. Almost time for Francis’ delivery route to begin.

“Good morning.” You look at the doppelgänger. His face is pressed into the living room pillow he’d borrowed from the couch, offering you the solitary one on the bed. A sleepy smile of greeting.

“Good morning, love.” His hand cups your cheek and you trap his fingers, turning your face to kiss the inside of his wrist. “I’m glad you stayed last night.”

“Me too.” Its earlier than you’d normally rise, but you kind of like it. That sense that the rest of the world is slumbering and the two of you have this time reserved just for you.

“Tell me to go get ready. I don’t want to leave this bed.”

“Go get ready. I’ll press your clothes for you while you take a shower. Get coffee going.”

“M’kay.” He sighs, sitting upright. Stretching his arms, his legs hanging over the side of the bed. A dog barks outside and someone hisses for it to be quiet. The replicant freezes, his arms dropping down sharply.

“Francis? What is it?”

“It’s not a dog.” He stands and goes to the window, edging the curtain back. “I don’t recognize them. Not from my squadron.”

“A doppel?”

“Yes.”

You sit up, the languid, cozy feeling evaporating instantly. Bringing you right back to reality. “Does the owner know?”

“No. They’re human.”

“Are they trying to come in?”

“No. But they sense something. That’s why they barked. They’re already halfway down the street. You’re safe.” He lets the curtain drop back into place.

“Didn’t you say no doppels would try to enter the building anymore?”

“Yes.”

You worry your lower lip. “That’s going to look suspicious to the DDD.”

“The DDD.” He says the name of the organization contemptuously. “I wish you’d leave.”

“It’s not just a job. It’s my career. I can’t leave.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want to help people. I promised I would.”

“You could do something else and still help people,” he mumbles. “Fine. If it’s going to draw more unwanted attention here, I can make certain some doppels do come in when you’re working.”

So much for the relieved idea that you and the residents would finally be safe and secure. “You can do that?”

“Of course.”

“And not let them harm anyone?”

“That is more than I can promise.”

So you’d still be putting the residents at risk. Encouraging it, even. You’d have to make absolutely certain never to let one inside.

“You’d be condemning your own kind. I’d have to call the cleaners if they threatened violence.”

“I’m aware. I have to keep you safe. If that means risking some other doppels, so be it.”

You leave the bed, walking over to the closet. Francis didn’t have many clothes aside from his work attire. He’d had few personal possessions in general from what you’ve seen so far in the apartment. Living so humbly.

The imposter rests a hand on your spine on the way past you to the bathroom, pausing to kiss your cheek. “Are you going to be alright?”

“Yes.” You select a shirt and pair of pants, folding the items still on the hangers over your arm. “I’ll be fine. Go get ready.”

The sound of the shower starting fills the background as you collect the folded ironing board from inside the closet and plug in the iron. You pad barefoot into the kitchen to get the coffee pot on, wearing one of Francis’ undershirts and your panties. You’re a little sore from the previous evening’s events. Internally. The times he had pounded into you deeply. The new bite on your shoulder. The swelling and redness seem to have dissipated. The mirror above the dresser doesn’t reveal anything too drastic looking. The puncture marks are almost invisible.

You’ve got the milkman’s pants ready when he emerges naked from the other room, still slightly damp from the shower. The brazenness still makes you blush. You know what he looks like nude by now, of course, but it feels different when it isn’t during intimacy. You watch the imitator rummaging through the dresser drawers to retrieve underwear and socks and a bow tie, secretly admiring the way his muscles shift in the warm yellow glow of the lamp, the curtains still shielding the window. You can smell the coffee brewing in the other room, easily pervading the entirety of the tiny apartment, and you inhale that enticing aroma deeply.

“So you mentioned earlier you’re in a squadron. Like a military sort?”

“Not precisely as you know it, but I suppose there are a few vague similarities.”

“What rank are you?”

“The equivalent of a lieutenant colonel, if you had to label it.”

You inch the work shirt further over the side of the ironing board to continue the pressing, smoothing out the wrinkles. “Where is the rest of your squadron?”

He shrugs. “Around,” he replies vaguely. You think he knows exactly where they are and he’s not willing to give them up. Still somewhat loyal, in spite of what’s happened between you.

“They don’t wonder where you are? Or vice versa? You don’t have some kind of a leader you have to report to?”

He pauses midway through pulling on a sock. “It doesn’t quite work like that. We are…autonomous, I suppose you would say. Working independently, but striving for the same goal.”

You hand him the shirt and he slides it over his shoulders after finishing with the socks. “So why have ranks at all then, if you’re all equals?”

“Because we’re not. Not everyone can do what I did. It’s still rare. There’s no way to instruct how to do it. It just…happens. Or doesn’t.” He finishes buttoning the front of his shirt. You help him with the cuffs of his sleeves.

“Why did you choose Francis?”

“Opportunity. Nothing more. Sheer random encounter.” You step back as he pulls each pants leg on and stands, zipping and buttoning the fly. The belt is coiled on the dresser beside the black tie. “The best decision of my existence,” he says softly, his forehead bending to touch yours.

You’re so conflicted. He’d killed the man you’d loved. But in some ways was still the man you loved. Only not. An enemy you’re supposed to be guarding against, except he no longer seems to bear any malice towards your kind. Coexisting peacefully. But the cost of that. Oh, the cost.

“I can’t say I’m grateful for what you did. But I am glad it was you, and not someone else.”

His hand cradles your head and he draws you against him. You can smell soap and shampoo. Aftershave. Your arms tighten around him.

“What did happen? During that random encounter?” You ask against his chest.

“Why do you want to know the details? It won’t change anything.”

You draw back to see his face. “Consider it a weakness of humans. There is a car accident on the interstate. The vehicles wrecked, the passengers gravely injured. We slow down or stop to look, even after emergency services have been called, even though there is nothing left to be done. We can’t look away. We have to face it. Confront our fears head on. Grieve our losses. Knowing the truth of what happened is the only way to do that.”

“If I tell you, you’re admitting he’s gone.”

You chew your lower lip, hesitating. “I suppose that would be true.”

“If that happens, you won’t have any reason to be with me anymore.” He strokes a thumb over one cheek. “Is that really what you want?”

“I…no.” Your heart is beating madly in your chest. It would be like losing Francis twice, somehow. You can’t fathom it. “I’m sorry, you’re right. It’s best I don’t know. I won’t mention it again.”

After a time the replicant finishes dressing. The black bow knotted neatly. Belt secured. Wallet tucked into his pocket, followed by his keys. You’ve hastily gotten dressed in yesterday’s clothing. You’ll return home and get properly washed and changed before returning for your shift afterwards.

The imposter pours you both a cup of the freshly brewed coffee. Strong. The way you both like it. A little cream and sugar to kill some of the bitterness stirred in.

You’re standing by the front door now. The doppelgänger holds the milkman’s cap in his hands. He doesn’t like wearing it. You can tell. You pull it from his fingers and set it on his head. Tugging the brim down a little. Smoothing some of his hair back underneath. He really did need a trim soon. You’d never seen it get this long.

“Be safe today,” he says.

“You too.”

“Do you think I could get away with coming over tonight? Is your organization going to stalk me?”

“I’m hoping they’ll calm down after a bit. They are still watching you. Me. Us. So maybe wait a couple of days, make it not so obvious.”

“I don’t think I can manage a couple of days.”

“You’ll still see me in the booth.”

“That’s not the same.”

“I know, Francis. If circumstances were different…I’m trying keep you safe.”

“I know.” He sighs. “Alright. A couple of days, then. Surely the weekend as well?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

He smiles. “Things looking up already. Alright, sweetheart.” He bends to kiss your mouth. “I’ll see you later.”

You exit the apartment and he locks the door. Still no one else stirring in the building yet. He ignores the elevator and begins descending the staircase. You follow him. He’s faster than you, his longer limbs making short work of the steps. Already nearly an entire flight down from you.

He pauses on the landing, looking back at you as you halt, fingers curled over the railing.

“Francis.” You rush down the stairs, throwing yourself at him when you reach the bottom, the momentum pushing him back against the wall. Planting kisses along the freshly shaved cheeks and jaw. “I miss you already.”

“Me too, love.” His arms envelop you and you bury your face against his shirt. Suddenly you find yourself wanting to cling to him desperately. So afraid for him. More than you were even for yourself.

It’s a relief when you see him return safely later that day; it’s all you can do not to open the booth and fling yourself back into his arms. But the camera mounted on the wall over your shoulder is a constant reminder. You’re being watched.

You’re not safe at all.

***

Saturday morning finds you standing in what was once an impressive garden beside your house. Now chock full of wildflowers and overgrown with weeds. Francis’ copy is beside you, kneeling down, his fingers raking the earth, pushing impatiently at the intruding vegetation. “The soil is still good. You could plant here again easily.”

“My grandfather would have been happy to see that. It just got to be too much for him to maintain. He had a hard time finding help for the farm. People lured into moving to the city. Better paying jobs. Fancier homes. A variety of exciting new stores to shop in. My parents both had that itch.”

“You’re somewhere in the middle.” He stands, dusting his hands off.

You nod. “I guess I am. I can appreciate the value of being in the city. The benefits. But I recognize the drawbacks, too. I love being here. It always feels right. I wish I could restore things to the way they were.”

“Maybe you could. Not to the extreme of running a business with employees, but to build it back up, little by little.”

“It would be a full time process.”

“You could do it. We could do it,” he adds softly.

“Is that really what you’d want?”

“I want you,” he says, his hands now seated on your waist, drawing you closer. He kisses you and you sigh contentedly.

“When I’m with you, it’s like the rest of the world goes away. There is no DDD or invasion. It’s just us.”

“It could really be like that.”

“No one ever leaves the DDD voluntarily. And you’d be labeled a deserter, wouldn’t you? We’d be chased. Hunted down. There’s only one punishment for someone who’s a coconspirator.” It didn’t happen often, but occasionally there were stories of humans accepting bribes. Working together with the doppels. It did not end well for the humans making those bargains; did not end well for the invaders, either.

“We’ll keep running so they can’t catch us. To the ends of the earth.” He tugs on your hand and you allow him to, following him. Navigating through the overgrowth, threading through it to find your path. Moving faster and faster, a full jog now. Still anchored to the doppelgänger’s hand.

He halts abruptly and you collide with him. Both breathing heavily. He descends and you tumble down with him. You’re in a patch of wildflowers, their perfumed scent heavy in the air.

You lie together like that with your head pillowed on his chest, one arm tucked around you. “Did you ever have anything like this before? Was there someone else?”

“Never.”

You burrow a little deeper, satisfied with the answer. Would you have been jealous if he’d said yes? Strange to think that way. But yes, you would be, you realize. The concept of sharing, the idea of affection for someone other than yourself bothers you.

“Do you think you could ever find yourself caring for me? Not for the face I wear. What’s behind it, I mean. My true self.” Your head lifts, your eyes searching his features. “I want you to love me as much as you love the man. More than that.”

“You said…you don’t even have words for human emotions. They don’t exist for your kind.”

“They don’t. They didn’t. A change now. Evolution. Something unanticipated. That’s what the ache is, isn’t it? How terrible this feeling is. How wonderful. Paradox.” He pulls your face towards his, kissing you. “I need you, sweetheart. More than you’ll ever know.”

You kiss him back. You can’t speak with words. It’s too overwhelming. Too confusing trying to separate the man and the invader. You’d been telling yourself all along it was your feelings for the former that had driven all your actions. That had been true enough in the beginning. But now. Now there were doubts creeping in. Wondering it wasn’t the other that you had feelings for. Could you really love a monster?

“Need to feel you, love, please.” The sound of his belt being undone. Dark slacks today now that he wasn’t working. Your fingers join him there, finding his cock already hard, leaking in anticipation. So hungry, so fast. Your body responding in kind, drooling for him.

You straddle his hips, the hem of your skirt bunched around your waist. Struggling to hold the crotch of your panties aside, to guide him inside of you. Gasping when you succeed. You lower yourself down onto him. The sun is warm on your back. You lift up slightly and sit back down. Impaling yourself again. Your hips roll back and forth as you lean down to kiss him. Rocking, sliding that prick in and out of your pussy. He slips completely free and you hurriedly snake a hand between your bodies, realigning him. The drag against your clit sending sparks through you. You keep the hand there, touching yourself, touching him. Feeling the heightened friction of the panties digging against your hand, against your lover’s dick. The nails of your other hand raking his chest through his shirt.

You kiss him, tasting the salt of the perspiration that has begun. It’s so hot. Outside. Inside of you. His fingers touch your cheek, seed your hair, hold your mouth against his as his hips lift to meet you. Driving him deeper inside. You look down at the man whose face you’d seen behind glass for all those months. Those dark, tired eyes on yours. Lick his mouth back open, enjoying the mash of the hand still between your bodies, grinding against the bundle of nerve endings. His lips at your jaw and throat and beside your ear. “I love you,” he whispers, and you shatter around him, your walls spasming, your body jerking through release.

It’s easy to say the phrase back to him when you’re in the height of bliss, just three simple little words that escape above his face, panted between noises of pleasure.

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

His hips snap up and you feel the jet of seed inside you. Your forehead drops to his, your arms and legs suddenly shaking. You dismount and drop down beside him, your face burrowing again.

“I meant it,” he says softly. “What I said.”

“I know. So did I.” It’s the truth, you realize. Somehow, the impossible had happened.

You’d fallen in love with a doppelgänger.

***

The weekend flies by.

You are back in the security booth once again the following Monday. Straightening out the desk once more. You really could not understand why your coworkers were so disorganized. You’ve nearly finished the task when you realize through your peripheral vision that someone has entered the apartment building.

Your head lifts to see Izaack Gauss.

Or what looked like him; your instincts kicking in once again. It’s most certainly a doppel.

The face has been perfectly replicated, the second floor resident’s exaggerated features all ones you recognize: the large cleft chin and wide nose, the thick dark eyebrows set above glacier blue eyes, that wide stretch of teeth just a little too large for comfort, becoming almost a rictus grin. One that doesn’t touch the imposter’s eyes.

“Good morning,” he greets you, sliding his ID card and entry request through the stainless steel slot at the bottom of the window.

You look over the identification first. Expiration date checks out, the image and name both correct. Your eyes flick up before you study the other document. On the day’s list. DDD logo present. Occupation of reporter correct. Address verified.

“May I come in? As you can see everything is in order.”

The ID card is still clutched in your hands. You tap it against the desk absently. You know it’s not really him. You just don’t have any evidence to support your suspicion yet.

“Let me just make a quick phone call to your residence.”

You lift the receiver off the hook, dialing the first number.

“I can smell him on you.”

Your hand freezes. “I’m sorry?”

The large nostrils flare and the suited figure inhales deeply. “All over you. Inside of you. He’s been there, hasn’t he? You’ve let him in.” Little burst capillaries spidering across his eyes now. A thin trail of spit glistening on his lower lip. “You could let me inside, too.”

You flip the plastic shielding covering the alarm down and slap the red button, the steel shutters instantly dropping down to cover the glass. Hanging up hurriedly and dialing a new number, the DDD operator answering you in the same calm manor they always adopt, assuring you the cleaners will be on their way shortly.

Time seems to slow to a crawl. You hear the sounds of the disposal team making their way inside. Yelling. Gunfire. Then silence. The alarm stops sounding. The steel shutter retracts. On the other side of the window, you can see a member of the DDD wearing a yellow hazmat suit. “The doppelgänger has been taken care of. You can return to work now.”

You nod, willing your shaking hands to be still.

***

“There was a doppel today.”

The piece of cake you’re chewing tastes like ash. It’s from your favorite bakery, a treat from your replicant beau. Washed down with an ice cold sample of the milk he delivers. You wish you could enjoy it. But your taste buds won’t cooperate. You’re still shaken from what had happened earlier.

“Yes. There were to be several. What’s wrong?”

“He knew about us, Francis.”

He sets his fork down slowly. “Tell me what happened.”

“He looked just like Mr. Gauss. The reporter that lives alone on the second floor. Paperwork checked out. But I could tell something was off right away. And he said he could smell you on me. In me. He knew what we’ve done together.”

You see the copycat milkman’s Adam’s apple move above his shirt collar as he swallows loudly. “And then you called the cleaners?”

“Yes.”

“Did he get a chance to say anything to them?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“And the surveillance cameras?”

“Video feed only, no audio.”

A heavy sigh. “Alright. I’m sorry that happened to you. That was not a member of my squadron, I assure you.”

“You said they wouldn’t come near the building, because of the marks. Other than the ones you sent as decoys to fool the DDD.”

“I didn’t think they would. Honestly, I didn’t. I would never deliberately put you in harm’s way. You know that.” His hand reaches for yours across the tiny kitchen table in the third floor apartment. “Had to just be an anomaly. Had to be,” he repeats, sounding as if he’s trying to reassure himself as well as you.

“What if it’s not?”

He pushes back from the table, kneeling beside you, reaching for one of your hands and pressing his lips to it, holding it against his cheek. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. I swear to you. I love you,” he says, and your heart flutters. The palm of his free hand rests somewhere along your ankle. Sliding up, bringing the hem of your skirt with it. He kisses your knee. The top of the joint. The inside. Stands and pulls you with him. Lifting you and sitting you on the counter, your skirt gathered in messy folds around your hips. His fingers dig into the sides of the underwear clinging to them, dragging them roughly down. He’s impatient, possessive. Scared, you think.

“I want to make a baby with you.”

“Francis…” Your sex throbs at the suggestion. Such a dangerous idea.

“I want them to know you’re mine. Fuck the DDD and fuck the other doppels.” His face moves against your throat, one hand on your hip as he thrusts into you, the other braced on the overhead cabinet behind you.

“I am yours.”

He huffs a moan. “You’re so perfect for me.”

You gasp when he reaches deeper inside of you, clutching the back of his shirt collar, your other hand at his waist, knees digging into his hips as he ruts against you. Your fingers travel to his hair, those cocoa locks that are growing curlier the more they lengthen. You have to cut them for him, or send him to a barber, or…

“Say it. Please, please say it. Do you want me to beg? I’ll do it. Please…”

You know what he wants. What he needs to hear. “I love you.” The wood behind you groans with the tension his hand places on it as he fucks you harder, faster. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” uttered each time he’s sheathed inside you.

Touching his cheek now, watching his mouth fall open, the kind of wonder in those dark eyes, as if he’s discovering you all over again for the first time, coming apart, waiting to be rebuilt. You both shatter and then there is silence save for the ticking of the clock mounted on the kitchen wall and the breaths you trade, a warm exchange of air in the scant space that divides you.

#thats not my neighbor #francis mosses #milkman #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #milkman x reader #milkman x you

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rynbutt · 24 days

Text

pierced. pt. 7 | spencer reid.

He was falling for every part of you.

you will find the other parts on my masterlist.

cw: fem!reader, 18+ content (MDNI), oral (f!receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (DONT DO THIS), nipple stuff (duh).

a/n: this is basically just porn. he got me BARKING.

Spencer was basically pushing you out the door as you left Rossi’s house.

You were having a pleasant conversation with Hotch when Spencer grazed your shoulder, asking if you were ready to go. You told him you would be ready in a minute and almost thirty minutes after he asked, it was like he was sulking. He asked you again and this time you felt you should honour his wishes. You hugged JJ, Emily and Penelope goodbye and thanked Rossi again for inviting you, Spencer wasn’t so bothered by formalities and started ushering you out the door.

You berated him gently as you left, reminding him to be polite. Spencer lovingly reminded you that they’re used to him and his antics. Spencer unlocked his car and before you could even open the passenger side door, he spun you around, pushing you against the car door. He cupped your face in his warm hands, pressing a hard kiss to your lips.

It was then you understood why he wanted to leave, the hard-on in his pants pressing against your thigh. You gently pushed on his chest, forcing him to pull away from your lips. You smiled coyly at him, moving some of his messy hair out of his face.

“I don’t think having sex against your car outside Rossi’s house is exactly sensible, Spence,” you whispered, gently fixing his tie.

Spencer’s mouth fell open, “I wasn’t- I was not implying we do such a thing.”

You giggled at his offended expression, “You sure?” You gestured down at the bulge forming in his pants.

“...No comment,” he retorted, kissing your cheek before finally freeing you of his grasp to get in the driver’s seat. You found it cute really, how much more confident Spencer had gotten when showing you affection.

Spencer held your hand for the entire ride home, his fingers laced with yours, making your hand look so much smaller compared to his. He ran the pad of his thumb along your thumb and side of your wrist, keeping your attention drawn to him.

You were sleepy when you got home, though you had the feeling Spencer wasn’t going to let you sleep much at all. You fumbled with your keys as you shoved the key in the lock on your door, Spencer getting handsy when you didn’t move as fast as he wanted you to. You finally unlocked your door and pushed it open, kicking your heels off the minute you stepped inside, the blisters on the back of your feet finally gaining some relief.

Spencer followed behind you and once your shoes were off, he pressed you against the door, one hand on your hip while the other held your jaw, kissing you deeply. You smiled against the kiss, lifting your hands to hold his face, fingers playing with his hair. You felt Spencer’s tongue push into your mouth, his hands coming down to scoop up your thighs.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, your dress hiking up to your upper thighs. Spencer’s hands gently cupped the flesh of your ass, his hands kneading the soft skin. You let out a soft whine against his lips, pulling away for a moment to breathe.

“This why you wanted to get me alone, pretty boy?” You breathed.

“What gave it away?” He retorted, planting open-mouthed kisses along the underside of your jaw. Your hand gripped his hair as he nipped at the side of your neck, his hands slipping under your dress to feel your soft skin.

Spencer lifted one of his hands to feel around for the zipper on the back of your dress. He tugged on the zip, pulling it all the way down as the fabric loosened on your shoulders. He began kissing down your neck to the exposed skin above the neckline of your dress. You reached up to pull the fabric down your shoulders, exposing the swell of your breasts to his hungry eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” Spencer mumbled, pressing a long peck to your lips. He dipped his head down, kissing down between your breasts as his hands kneaded your ass. He pressed a kiss to the side of your breast before taking one of your pierced nipples in his mouth, his tongue flicking over the hardened bud. The cold metal felt weird in his mouth but it sent his mind reeling. You moaned softly against the back of your hand, your other hand gripping Spencer’s hair.

“Fuck- Spencer,” you breathed out through a whine as his teeth nipped at the squishy skin.

“You were right,” he glanced up at you, a cheeky grin on his face, “they are sensitive.”

You let out a small noise of surprise as Spencer lifted you off the door, your arms instinctively wrapping around his shoulders as he carried you to your bedroom. Spencer gently dropped you on your plush sheets, pressing another kiss to your lips before he kicked his shoes off and slipped his blazer off his shoulders.

Your hands reached out to cup his face as he leaned in to kiss you, holding himself above you. Your fingers went to remove his tie but he stopped you, gripping your wrists and pinning your hands above your head. You let out a soft whine in protest as he began slipping your dress down your hips and legs, tossing it to the ground somewhere in your room.

He planted a kiss to your sternum, his lips ghosting over your hardened nipples. The feeling sent a shiver down your spine, feeling heat form in your lower belly as a wet patch began to form on your lace panties.

“Can I go down on you?” He asked breathlessly, his dark eyes peering up at you.

You felt your skin heat up at the question, “you… want to?” You don’t think any man who came before him has ever wanted to go down on you.

“More than anything,” he confessed.

“Okay,” you nodded.

“Okay, what?” He teased, kissing the skin above your belly button.

“I want you to go down on me, Spencer,” you whispered, lifting one of your legs to drape over his hip. His hand held your knee before snaking up your thigh to play with the thin fabric of your panties against your hip. He let go of your wrists, his hands tugging on his tie. He pulled it over his head before reaching up to tighten the fabric around your wrists, pinning them above your head.

“You look cute like that,” he grinned.

“Shut up,” you retorted. Spencer suddenly pulled you to the edge of the bed, kneeling down in front of you on the floor as he pulled your panties down your thighs. You lifted your hips for him, letting him tug them off and toss them across the room with your dress.

He looked up at you from between your spread legs, “You okay, angel?”

You smiled softly at the nickname, “Please, Spence- don’t tease me.”

Spencer grinned, his large hands pressing on the back of your thighs, pushing your legs open until you were spread open for him, your slick cunt making his mouth water. You wanted to cover your face and squeal with embarrassment as he stared at you with nothing but adoration and lust in his eyes.

You were about to protest when Spencer pressed a kiss to your clit. You let out a soft moan at the feeling, your hands pulling at the tie around your wrists. Spencer let out a groan as he dipped his tongue inside your cunt, tasting your sweetness for the first time.

You threw your head back at the feeling of Spencer sucking softly on your clit, his tongue gently flicking over the swollen bud. Spencer pushed your legs further apart when he felt you squeezing against him, searching for some kind of friction. You had no idea where he learned any of this but he was making you dizzy.

“F-fuck, Spence,” you moaned out, your hands shooting down to grasp his hair, grinding your hips against his mouth. Spencer took one of his hands off your thighs, reaching his fingers up to press against your lips. You opened your mouth, sucking on his long fingers as he stared up at you from between your plush thighs.

He pulled his fingers from your mouth, now coated in your spit. He placed a kiss to your clit before gently pushing his finger inside you all the way to the last knuckle. Your hips bucked against the feeling of Spencer curling his fingers inside you while his tongue swirled around your clit. He pushed a second finger in, the pads of his fingertips pressing against the spongy spot inside you.

You felt a warmth blooming in your abdomen as your hips bucked against Spencer’s face, his fingers splitting you open while he sucked on your swollen clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Your fingers tangled in Spencer’s hair, tugging at the roots, “Spencer- Spencer- I’m gonna-”

Spencer flicked his tongue over your clit, curling his fingers in such a way that made your mind go blank as the coil in your belly snapped, your cunt pulsing around Spencer’s fingers as you arched your back off your bed. Your slick gushed over his fingers and mouth, the sound of Spencer lapping up your wetness like a starved man was lewd but it was undeniably hot seeing him pull away from you with slick glistening over his lips and chin.

“You did so good, angel,” Spencer cooed as he rubbed your thigh, bringing you back down to earth. You were limp against the edge of your bed, your thighs aching from being pressed to your chest. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly as a thin sheen of sweat coated your skin.

Spencer planted a kiss to the spot above your pelvis, leaving a trail of gentle kisses up your body before finally meeting your lips, making you taste yourself on his lips. You reached up, wrists still bound as you started unbuttoning his dress shirt.

Spencer grabbed your hands gently, “don’t you think you’ve had enough for one night, angel?”

You looked up at him, “If you don’t fuck me, I’ll be so mad.”

Spencer chuckled at your response, cupping your face as he pressed a kiss to your lips. “Say that again,” he whispered.

You felt your skin heat up, “...that I want you to fuck me?” you mumbled.

“Yeah,” he teased, “go on.”

You hesitated a moment, suddenly feeling embarrassed as if he wasn’t tongue-fucking you a minute ago. You leaned up to his ear, your lips ghosting over the shell of his ear, “...I want you to fuck me, Spencer.”

Spencer grinned coyly, his hand coming up to grip your jaw, tilting your head up to kiss you. He moved your legs apart, slotting himself between your thighs to grind his hard-on against your soaked cunt. You groaned against his lips, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him close, your clit grinding on the rough fabric of his pants.

Spencer pulled away from you, pulling his shirt off his shoulders before pulling at his belt buckle. He pulled his pants down slightly, pulling his cock from the confines of his boxers. He looked painfully hard, precum leaking from the pretty pink tip.

You went to reach for his cock, only for him to stop you, pinning your hands back above your head, “If you touch me,” he panted, “I’m going to cum.”

“Hurry up then,” you breathed, grinning cheekily. Spencer sat back on his calves, your legs draped over his hips. He tugged on your thighs, reefing you up to grind his cock against your slick folds. He pulled you up into a sitting position, pulling your bound wrists over his head so you could hold onto him as you sat on his lap.

“Wanna look at you,” Spencer whispered, one hand gripping the base of his cock while the other gripped your ass. He guided the tip of his cock to your wet hole, slowly pushing the tip inside you. He groaned against your neck at the feeling of your wet cunt sucking him in. You moaned as he split you open, both his hands pulling at the flesh of your ass as he slowly pulled you down on his cock.

“Mm- Spencer-” you moaned, the tip of his cock reaching so deep inside you it felt like he was in your stomach. Spencer wrapped a hand around your waist, forcing you to arch your back against his chest. Your tits squeezed against his upper chest, your head tipping back. Spencer planted kisses to the column of your throat, slowly lifting your hips to bring you back down on his cock.

“Can’t believe…,” he grunted as you began bouncing on his cock, pulling almost all the way out of you before plunging you back down, “...you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Spence,” you whined, your hips slamming against his as he bounced you up and down. He reached a hand down to rub at your sensitive clit, the overstimulation paired with the feeling of his cock grinding against your velvet walls making you dizzy.

“F-Fuck, you’re so tight,” Spencer groaned, bouncing you faster and faster on his cock. Your legs were shaking as you clamped down on his waist. Spencer suddenly pushed himself up, his cock still inside you as he forced you onto your back, holding himself above you as he slammed his hips into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling your room.

He breathed hard above you, trying his best to keep his composure as your cunt squeezed down on his cock, tightening as your orgasm neared. You got louder and louder as your abdomen grew hotter and hotter, your legs tightening around Spencer’s body to pull him closer.

“I’m gonna cum, baby,” Spencer groaned, your nails scraping over the skin between Spencer’s shoulders. He groaned at the feeling, dropping his head to your shoulder as his rhythm grew sloppy, hips stuttering against yours.

“M-Me too,” you whined, back arching off the bed. The coil in your belly snapped and you came harder than you did before. Spencer fucked you through your high, his breathing growing shallow and jagged as he chased his own high.

“Fuck,” Spencer grunted, quickly pulling out of you as he came on your lower belly, holding himself above you. He breathed hard, slipping your tied hands over his head to untie you. Your wrists felt slightly bruised from being bound but you were just happy you could cup Spencer’s cheeks and kiss him properly.

“You okay, baby?” you whispered.

Spencer looked up at you, a bead of sweat running down his temple, “Yeah, fuck yeah, sweetheart,” he laughed breathlessly, sitting back on the bed to find something to clean you up. He picked up one of the shirts he left here a couple days ago, wiping his cum off your belly gently.

He tossed the shirt onto the floor before reaching up to pull your sheets back. Spencer quickly got up, pulling his boxers back on and opening your closet door to find some clean panties for you. He picked his favourite pair; lilac purple with a little white bow.

Spencer helped you slip them up your legs before joining you under the sheets, tucking the two of you in. You were tired, your eyelids feeling heavy. Spencer’s fingertips danced over your cheek, tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

“...Did you know sex can improve your sleep and can reduce overall stress both physically and emotionally?”

You started laughing softly, eyes still closed lazily, “Very sexy, Spence.”

“You told me intelligence was sexy,” he retorted.

“It is, but right now I just need you to cuddle me,” you replied, prying your eyes open to look at him. Spencer opened his arms, letting you scoot into him, resting your head against his chest and listening to the quiet beat of his heart. “See? This is nice.”

Spencer stroked your hair as you dozed off. Tofu suddenly pushed your door open, her little bell chiming as she jumped on your bed. She sat behind you, staring at Spencer over your shoulder.

“...Don’t look at me like that.”

a/n: you know what they say about nipple piercings, they taste like house keys and there's no place like home.

taglist: @crazycat-ladys-blog @cillsnostalgia @secretly-tumb1r @33-81 @elissanatok @outrunangelss @cultish-corner @666-gothic-bat-666 @evvy96 @littlemarvelstan8 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @meg-black @dreamsarebig @anuncalledbridge @fioletowelowe @ladylincoln @spencereidsgf420 @bollzinurmouth @scarlettssub @ipseitydelrey @donttrustlove @mcntsee @ruziazyn @valinherfantasyworld @khxna @maybe-not-this @shardsofmarxx @danadinosaur3 @justsarahbella @ah-blossom @lorelaireid @btskzfav @reidsdoll @pinkpantheris @violetvsworld @readergf @pangirl-fangirl @emideadpoets

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #x reader #cm spencer #dr reid #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds smut #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid smut #dr reid smut

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hanasnx · 4 months

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brucie and his 19 year old girlfriend who he flaunts around Gotham like it’s no big deal. he takes her everywhere and anywhere there will be press. everyone is so shocked and they don’t even know what to say. especially the kids. dick and jason are (high key) jealous of it… -🍓

PART ONE ✩ PART TWO MINORS DNI 18+

BRUCE WAYNE has been keeping you around to garner attention around himself and off of his dealings as the Batman. You were the perfect candidate given your social influence, your popularity, and it helped you were easy on the eyes. If Bruce Wayne was the center of controversy for dating someone half his age, Batman could keep a lookout on Penguin’s latest caches without distractions like the Cobblepots releasing a statement that Batman is wrongfully investigating a man based on appearance. Prejudice doesn’t make the news, but an age gap does.

You practically float off the floor when Bruce is around, whether it be an arm around your waist; leading you or twirling you like a dance with music he hums; sweeping you off your feet, easily up over his head. It becomes clear why he’s so dangerous, he’s such a charmer. Somehow he has romance dialed in, and you fell for someone so put-together. You love going everywhere with him, and when a fan asks for a picture, he’s the first to hug you from behind and curl his huge body around you, cheek-to-cheek with his chin over your shoulder. He’s so shamelessly touchy. It gets to a point where he likes when you scold him with a pat. Hitting his sturdy bicep when he tugs the neckline of your dress to him for a peek at your tits, and all he does is growl at you playfully, like you’re asking for it later.

To be honest, you are. Yet, Bruce won’t get it to you. He dangles it over your head in public, but alone he makes up some excuse and calls his butler to drive you home.

One time when you’ve been invited to the Manor, it was so you could get ready and drive to a gala with Bruce. Arriving together is a big statement, and you’re excited, but in a much realer sense there’s a tickle of dread in your stomach. Bruce told you to make yourself comfortable and wait for him, he’s terribly sorry that he has to attend to something first and if he’d had it his way a lady wouldn’t wait on a gentleman. You’ve already fantasized this might be it, he’s finally going to ask you. Sitting on this chaise in front of a fire you clench your legs together at the reminder. Perhaps he’s getting ready so he’ll finally sleep with you. Briefly, you imagine what the paparazzi would bark at you if you arrived to the gala with sex hair. It brings a smile to your face.

Just in case, you had outfitted yourself with a tasteful nightgown underneath your clothes, and you decide now is the time to enact it. Shimmying off your garments, you then arrange yourself seductively on the chaise. Bruce’ll be here any minute, and he always acts so insatiable in public. Maybe if you surprise him, he won’t be able to steel himself. Your fingers play with the hem, already short but your ride it up even more, and trace circles onto your bare hip. You’ve felt his hands on your hips when you wore a stringy little bikini for him on his yacht, and those callused hands had pulled you right down on his lap to stick his tongue in your mouth. You can still taste it, closing your eyes to revisualize it. He was so big underneath you—

“… and this is a one time thing, understand? My debt is paid.”

“Don’t worry, birdboy, I won’t tell your old man—“

Voices come into focus, alerting you as the door opens and not one but two people come in. Two people you do not recognize. Without thinking it through, you stand to conceal your seductive pose meant for someone else, and everything else slips your mind.

Two men. Boyish. Both with black hair that’s grown out, and one of them with a white stripe sprouting from the front of his hairline.

“Oh,” DICK GRAYSON says. He’s no stranger to walking in on something he shouldn’t see. “Sorry, didn’t see you there.”

“Nice outfit.” JASON TODD adds, and you can tell he’s making fun of you. Your cheeks grow red hot, and you scramble for something to cover yourself up. A thin throw blanket folded over the back of the chaise is hastily straightened out to cover yourself.

Wary he might cause you grief, Dick points to a bookshelf behind you. “We just have to… get something.” He waits for something, and you realize he wants you to reply. You nod, hoping to just end this as soon as possible.

The blanket covers most, but a lot of your thigh is exposed. You try to turn with them as you they pass you, but Jason cranes his neck to catch a glance of your ass. The undersides of it hang out of your tiny nightgown. An indignant crease in your brow forms, and you make an obvious move to yank the blanket over your ass, turning it away from him. Dick keeps going, Jason hangs behind. “What’re you doing here, missy? You look a little young.” Condescension. The last thing you need right now is a conversation.

“Yeah, are you looking for someone?” Dick asks over his shoulder, more polite than his companion as he searches the spines of books with a finger.

You hesitate to say anything, you don’t know these people. “I’m waiting on someone.” A tremble shivers through you, the back of you cold from being away from the fire, and your nerves didn’t help.

“You’re not a hooker, are you?” Jason’s blunt nature shines through in his question, not that he’s intrigued or judgmental, just curious.

Your first instinct is to be offended he’d say something like that to a lady, frowning at him with a scoff. “What? No! And—!” It dawns on you that you shouldn’t put down sex work, you’re overreacting. So you wiggle your shoulders and stick your nose in the air, prissing up your attitude. “It wouldn’t matter if I was.” you say, quieter this time.

“Sure, it does. I’ve got cash on me.” Jason replies, only to get that cute offended look back on your face.

“Jason, shut up. She doesn’t know you’re trying to get under her skin.” Dick plucks out the book, and flips through it. He joins you and Jason, and you take a wary step back. He doesn’t notice, snapping the book shut and handing it off to Jason. Those blue eyes are back on you again, and you swear you see him give you a quick once-over. “Whoever you’re waiting on is a lucky guy.” he says, and by his tone you’re unsure if it’s a genuine flirt. When he smiles, dimples define, and for a brief second you’re weak in the knees.

A third voice pipes up, deeper than them both. “She’s with me.” Bruce says, walking in as he adjusts his cuff links. “Jason, always a pleasure to find you sneaking around my house.”

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faeflowerz · 1 year

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Savanaclaw Imprinting on You

I have nothing cheeky to say. Let's do this.

Warnings: My gross misunderstanding of animals, Bullying Leona for being a big chonk

Characters: Ruggie, Jack, Leona

Ruggie imprinting on you is an "oh shit" moment for him. He lives his life so casually and when he sees you, like really sees you for the first time, he's acting unwise. Ruggie will do things for you that he wouldn't for anyone else. He doesn't ask for you to return the favor. He even shares his food.

Now this last one is particularly special for him given that he values food more than his peers. Food is how he communicates and finds pleasure. I won't get too far into the feederism side, but I think there'd be a lot of "You should eat. Have you had breakfast?"

But it's not all picnics and dandelions. Hyenas are pretty scary if you piss em off. So if one of your guy friends touches you the wrong way or tries to tease him about his sudden obsession with you, he will go on the offense. Lots of growling and hes ready to turn them into a hashtag. You gotta drag him away every single time.

"Dude, you can't just go around picking fights with everyone! What's your damage, Ruggie?"

"I wouldn’t be so mad if those assholes kept their hands off of you!"

"That's what this is about? They mess around all the time, it's not a big deal."

"It is to me! I don't like it!"

"Okay, but why though? Why would you give a fuck?" You shake your head, frustrated by the look he was giving you.

"Because I'm jealous!" He barks. "I don't want anyone else touching you but me!" Everything is quiet as you try to process what he just said.

"Ruggie...what-"

"I like...being around you all the time. And all I can think about is you. And...ugh...this is so stupid." His cheeks are cute and pink as he mumbles his way though his confession. And you, you're smiling. Seeing him get so real with you is so sweet and touching. As he's trying to justify his behavior, you place a sweet kiss on his nose. Then he's all shishishi cause he got kissed.

When Jack imprints on you, he's pretty tsundere about it. Suddenly he's hanging around you and by extension the other first years. Its not like he loves you and how you smell and the way you laugh at your dumbass friends. He just...needs to be within five feet of you at all times. Oh, and that tail? It's wagging every single time you acknowledge him or give him attention. The most antisocial boy is suddenly craving your affection.

And of course Ace is gonna clown him for it. Though it feels a little bit different. "Is there somethin you're not telling us? No fair that you two have A Thing going on the down low."

"What are you even talking about?" Jack crosses his arms, clearly trying to keep cool.

"Come on, dude. You lit up when Prefect sat next to you," Ace pouts at the both of you before calling you out too. "Are you together?!"

"Wh-what?! What would make you think that?!"

And all of your friends have examples. Waay too many. And then, Ortho says, "You know, imprinting can happen to beast men too. There's a chance that-"

"What happens between me and Prefect is our business. I didn’t ask any of you to help me confess either."

Major self report. His tail is going a trillion per hour and he realizes what he just said. "Damn it."

"Ha! I knew it!" Ace chortles.

"Wow...that was pretty bold, Jack," Epel hides his grin behind his hand. As for you...

Well, you're smiling like an idiot. It's not like you haven't been purposefully saying and doing things to see his tail wag, make his ears flicker and see him smile a little. You can't pretend to be shocked as you look at Jack for a response. "Well, I guess I should have been honest from the start..."

So there you are, resigned to be a pillow for the biggest cat you've had the misfortune of knowing. Leona loves your thighs and like hell he's going to pass up on your free period to get some sleep. You've accepted your fate, but your legs are just as comatose as he is. As you try to shift around, this catman actually whines in protest. Inside, he's praying you didn't hear it. "Stop moving," he manages to say.

So, Leona's imprinted on you. Now what? Well, you're gonna know quite quickly. Like, it's kind of not a secret since Leona is so shameless with everything he does. Though, he won't actually say "I've imprinted on you." His actions are all the confirmation you need. Actually, he's the most overbearing because he will just drag you away from whatever you're doing just to take a nap with him. Are you in the greenhouse for a class? Well, too fucking bad. Leona wants you to give him attention. You know. Like a cat.

"M'leg's asleep," you complain. "Plus you're heavy."

"Neither of these are my problem."

"You're literally responsible for both."

"You callin me fat?"

"...maybe I am," Leona opens one eye to glare up at you. He wants to be mad. But seeing you so pleased by his reaction makes him melt a little. "What? All you do is eat and sleep what else am I supposed to think?" To your surprise, he sits up. You're about to ask but he flops on top of you, sending you both into the soft patch of grass. Leona's spooning you and your face is buried in his fat (and kind of fuzzy) tits. "Seriously?!"

"Look, you're just going to have to deal with the fact that you're one of the few people I can tolerate."

He's a real piece of work, isn't he? Still, his body is kind of warm and cuddly, huh? He would probably get mad if you said that out loud though.

#twisted wonderland #writing #faes drabbles #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #twst x reader #jack howl #jack howl x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #reader insert #reader imagine #yumejoshi

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frickingnerd · 9 months

Text

childhood friends to lovers with katsuki bakugou

pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

tags: mutual pining, jealousy, reader dating other boys, fluff

katsuki was the type of little boy who thought girls were gross!

he would always avoid you with his friends, yet stare longingly when you went to play with deku instead

your moms were friends, so katsuki and mitsuki regularly came over and the two of you were forced to spend time together

after a while, katsuki started to enjoy playing with you, but would only do so if he was visiting you with his mother

otherwise he'd act as if you were gross and tell his friends he'd never ever like a girl!

katsuki would always pick on your friends, pull their hair or call them names, just to get your attention

you'd always scold him and ruffle through his hair, causing the boy to bark at you and call you a witch!

when the two of you were in middle school, bakugou became a little less childish and for the first time, the two of you had a normal relationship

he was a good friend of yours, almost as close as a brother

but whenever you'd call him that, he'd yell at you

"no no NO NO NOO– DON'T SAY THAT–!!" he'd bark and glare at you, causing you to chuckle

it was only when you were getting older that you understood why he hated it so much

you two were now in high school and he wasn't the only male friend you had anymore

bakugou had changed a lot since childhood, but he still glared at every boy that got close to you

whenever you were going out with a boy, bakugou would try to talk some sense into you and get you to drop that guy

he still couldn't stand to see you with someone else, nor could he admit he was in love with you

but he just watched as you went out with one boy. and then another one

and everytime things didn't work out, he comforted you after they broke up with you

it took him until your third boyfriend to finally man up and do something about his feelings!

your former boyfriends were all idiots and katsuki couldn't just sit still while watching you get hurt anymore

you were giving your firsts to those idiots who didn't even treat you right!

you were getting ready for another date with this guy from class 1B, when katsuki showed up in front of your dorm room, begging you not to go!

after all those years, he finally told you how he felt about you. that he had been in love with you for years

he couldn't keep it to himself anymore. he couldn't stay away from you anymore!

katsuki was worried that you would turn him down

you just quietly stared at him after he spoke and for the first time in his life, he felt nervous

"don't you have anything to say, dumbass..?" he mumbled nervously

"i think you forgot to ask me something, dumbass~" you just huffed back amused

katsuki thought for a moment, before he finally realized it and started to smile

"would you like to be my girlfriend, y/n?"

you took a step forward, getting on your tiptoes and slowly got closer and closer to katsuki

"i'd love to~" you whispered, before finally locking lips with your childhood friend

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ineadhyn · 4 months

Text

One of Astarion's most interesting scenes to me is the one in the flop house where we meet Dalyria and Petras. So, obviously, I felt the need to analyze it.

Astarion's behaviour switches the very moment he recognises his siblings. He has been snappy and theatrical before, but this now feels different. More raw. His posture changes, he bends forward in a pose like he's ready to attack. The moment he sees them, he enters fight mode.

And indeed, he does attack. He immediately goes for Petras, aiming for the weak spots he knows, his intelligence. It's bite or be bitten. If he doesn't do it (a choice you can make in his origin run for example) Petras does just the same, insulting Astarion using his known flaws: his arrogance, his egoism, claiming Astarion is all talk. This tells so much about Astarions life with them.

Dalyria is a bit calmer, she seems to care about both of them, at least enough that she doesn't want to see either of them killed. Dalyria does believe Cazador's claim of freeing them at least on surface level. She can be convinced to trust Astarion when he says he'll free them. She wants to be free. Asking why Astarion would come back if he was free, there is a certain longing in her voice. She's also the one telling Astarion about the ritual place, hoping Astarion might actually be able to free them, or at least not kill Petras.

Still the aggression in the room is not only between Astarion and Petras. Astarion also snaps at Dalyria when she's barely said anything. "That's not a way to welcome back a brother, Dal." The three of them are like dogs in the kennels of a dog fighting ring, barking at the sight of each other. Trained to compete and not giving each other an inch. You can imagine what it must have been like sharing one bedroom.

Then Astarion does his theatrical "Didn't you miss me?" Did they? Probably as much as Astarion pities them. A bit, because they've known each other for so long, but not enough to go out of their way. Just after saying he pities them, Astarion dreams about completing the ritual (which includes sacrificing them). Mostly I see the "Didn't you miss me" as Astarion wanting to make a confident first impression on them. Although it's too late, because his first instinct was to pull up his usual defences when interacting with his siblings: snapping at them.

And then Astarion actually gets physically aggressive and burns Petras. This is new. Petras didn't expect this. He says "What the hells happened to you, Astarion?" In combination with the other spawn scene when they call Astarion the runt, that never put up a fight, this paints a clear picture: Astarion has never been physically aggressive during his time with Cazador. Probably because he didn't have the means. He was simply too weak, being tortured more than any of the others. Petras talks about eating rats and dogs, Astarion got rats and bugs (he says that when talking about the bite with Tav). Also of course being broken into submission by being sealed into the tomb for the one time he didn't obey. (Worthy to mention that even then Astarion did not fight, he ran.)

Now that Astarion has some power for the first time, he uses it. And holy damn can I understand why he wants more. How good it must feel to be able to defend himself with more than words for the first time. This bit of power makes him say "I am not afraid of anything anymore."

It's enough for him to say "I am going to stop Cazador." A thing none of the spawn expects of him. Astarion would never rebel against the master. Cazador himself doesn't believe it until his last moment. They were all wrong about Astarion. Cazador indeed never broke him.

Also, pay attention to the leaning forward pose. Astarion does that on multiple occasions. It's his "my instinct screams to fight and defend myself"-pose.

(I am not entirely sure if "do not slouch before me" is also referring the same pose, or if it's more of an instinct to bow or cower. But that's for another day.)

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion analysis #cazador #dalyria #pale petras

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slut4thebroken · 6 months

Text

The Arkham Knight’s Whore

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Arkham Knight x reader

Summary | Exactly what the title says.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, sexual slavery??, but consensual, exhibitionism, rough sex, humiliation, degradation, praise, he hates everyone but you, possessive!jason, ruined orgasm, orgasm delay/denial, threats of using a chastity belt lol, creampie hehe, idk what else tbh.

Words | 3.4 k

Notes | Idk man one day I just had a vision.

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

The voices of the men were muffled in your fuzzy brain. The only things you could focus on were the hard ground you were kneeling on, the collar wrapped tightly around your neck, and the breeze making your mostly nude body tremble. This was how most days went by— in a blur, not ever truly being able to focus on anything. Especially if it was something other than the man you were kneeling next to.

A gloved hand started stroking your hair, making you sigh and close your eyes with a small smile. His rare acts of affection were your favorite part of the entire day. Anytime he’d cup your cheek or lightly caress your body, you always savored the touch. Especially because it was usually followed not long after by a rougher touch instead. His movements paused and he grabbed your hair, then yanked your head back until you were looking up at him.

“Are you listening, pet?”

“N-no. I’m sorry.” You said quietly, trying to focus on him and not get lost in the painful feeling on your scalp that was making your core ache.

“Come here.” You were barely able to hide the eagerness in your movements as you got up to straddle his lap, paying no mind to the men behind you. You waited with your hands behind your back until he grabbed them and placed them on his shoulders. He started rubbing his hands up and down your thighs slowly, teasing you.

“I’m going out tonight. I want you in my room, naked and on your knees, when I return.”

“Yes, sir.” You wondered if he had something specific planned for tonight.

“What are you looking at?” He barked, making you jump. Then, “Sorry for scaring you, pet. Not you, don’t worry.” You breathed out a sigh of relief. Sometimes you really hated when he wore the helmet.

“You. Come here.” Out of the corner of your eye you saw him point to someone behind you. Slow footsteps were heard until they finally stopped.

“Sir?” The man asked, voice trembling.

“You know the rules, yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Tell me which one you just broke.” Even through the distortion you could hear how scary he sounded.

“I- I looked at her.”

“That’s right. Not a hard rule is it? If you were doing your job, your attention should’ve been elsewhere so help me understand why it was on her.” His hands stopped to grip your thighs, making you gasp quietly.

“I- I’m sorry, sir. It won’t- it won’t happen again.” He stammered, the fear in his voice painfully obvious.

“No. It won’t.” He grabbed the gun from his thigh and quickly shot the man. Because of the loud noise close to your ears, your hearing went a little muffled, but you could faintly hear his body dropping to the floor.

“A reminder,” He said loudly, addressing the rest of the men in the room, “anyone looks at, speaks to, or touches her… they’re a dead man. Understand?” A chorus of “yes, sir” filled the room and he turned his attention back to you as he holstered the gun.

“Go to my room. Someone will bring you food soon.” His voice was notably softer now.

“Yes, sir. How long will you be gone?”

“Just a few hours.”

“Okay. Be safe.” You said quietly, giving him a small smile.

After you showered, got ready for bed, and ate, you were starting to get more anxious about when you should go to the floor to wait for him. You didn’t want him to come back and not find you where he wanted, but at the same time you didn’t want to kneel for that long. Eventually you decided to sit down on the floor and read. Anytime you heard footsteps outside the door, you threw your book down and got on your knees. And each time, you were disappointed when they walked right past the door.

Finally when the door opened, you snapped your head down to face the floor, listening to it close and then his footsteps around the room. You heard the loud thud of his helmet dropping on a table and almost looked up at the sudden noise. His footsteps kept growing closer until they stopped behind you and his fingers were running through your hair.

“Did you behave?” The sound of his non distorted voice always made you melt.

“Yes, sir.” You wanted to ask how his night went, but you’re not sure what kind of mood he’s in yet.

“Good girl.” His hand snaked around until it wrapped around the front of your neck, pulling your head back to look up at him. “You ready for me?”

“Always.” When the corners of his lips turned up it was better than any orgasm you could ever have. He helped you up by your neck, then placed both of his hands on your hips, pulling you into him. He didn’t wait long before leaning down and pressing his lips to your neck, kissing the sensitive skin. You bit your lip and dug your nails into your palms painfully as you resisted bringing your hands up to touch him. When he suddenly took a step back, you barely managed to swallow down the whimper in time.

“On the bed, ass up.” He said while working on taking off his belt. You eagerly climbed onto the bed and settled in the center before lifting yourself up onto your knees, keeping your head and shoulders down. You didn’t even hear him move before hands were being placed on the backs of your thighs, slowly snaking up. He groped your ass roughly, making your breath hitch. When his thumb brushed over your slit, you bit down on the sheets, not wanting to be loud without his permission.

“Always so fucking wet.” He muttered, making your face heat up. “You like it, don’t you? Being my whore.” He spoke more clearly now and you let out a low whine.

“Yes, sir.” You said through a moan, resisting pushing your hips back into his touch.

“Good. Because I’m not planning on letting you go anytime soon.” You weren't sure if he was intending for it to sound literal or metaphorical, but deep down you knew that he was being completely serious.

The blunt head of his cock replaced his thumb and he dragged it up and down your slit slowly. You didn’t have to wait long before he was pushing into you, splitting you open despite the fact that you’ve gotten used to his size after all this time. You buried your head into the sheets to muffle your moans, but he just leaned over you, making his length go even deeper, then grabbed your hair and pulled your head back up. When his hips were completely pressed to yours, he stilled, letting you adjust. Your chest heaved as you tried to relax your body, hoping to lessen the sting. After only another moment, he was moving his hips back until just the tip was inside of you, then slamming back in. You let out a choked moan at the force of his thrust but quickly put a hand over your mouth to silence yourself.

“I want to hear you, bitch. Let everyone know who’s fucking you.” You tentatively removed your hand and he pulled out again, faster this time, and slammed back in even harder. He continued like this for a while until his hand released your hair to grab your hip. As he pounded your already aching hole, you tried to keep your head up so he could hear you. A knock at the door made the moan catch in your throat.

“What?” He barked, still snapping his hips into you, even as the door opened. You let out a low whine and buried your face in the sheets, but he grabbed your hair again and lifted you up.

“Sir, you wanted to be notified immediately after a sighting— He’s at the docks. Robin too.” You tried to keep your moans in as the man spoke, but he yanked on your hair, making you cry out.

“Find out why he’s there.” His voice wasn’t even slightly breathless as his brutal pace continued.

“Yes, sir.” When the door closed, he pushed your head forward as he let go of your hair, then roughly pulled out. Because you weren’t holding your head up at all, it fell onto the bed, making you release a muffled grunt. He smacked your ass only once before grabbing you and flipping you onto your back.

“I thought I said I wanted to hear you.” He growled, roughly grabbing your thighs and forcing your legs open. Before you could even think of apologizing, his hand was coming down hard on your clit. You let out a choked sob and he did it again before you could fully recover.

“I-I’m sorry! Please-” You cut yourself off with another sob as he hit you once again. Seemingly giving you mercy, he slid inside of you again and lifted your lower half off the bed to start snapping his hips into you. You watched his eyes trail all over your body and the way his lips parted as he panted quietly, but that was the only skin you could see and you wished one day he’d let you see all of him. But it took him so long before he was able to take the helmet off, and even then, for the first few times, he kept you on your knees with your face buried in the sheets and immediately put it back on after.

As the knot of arousal in stomach grew tighter, you willed yourself to hold off your orgasm until he gave you permission. Which proved to be a difficult feat as his thrusts became more frenzied and his pants turned into low grunts and moans.

“Please,” You gasped out, feeling tears of desperation make their way into your eyes. “Please! Sir, I need to come.” You cried.

“Hold it or you won’t be able to sit for a fucking week.” He growled, adding to the arousal growing in your stomach.

“I- I’m trying,” You whimpered, a few tears falling down your temples into your hair.

“Needy fucking whore, always worried about your own pleasure. Do I need to train you again?” You whined at his words, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Or maybe I should just lock up your cunt permanently— use your other fuck holes instead.”

“Oh god,” You sobbed out.

“You like the sound of that? You wanna be a proper fuck toy? Just a little fleshlight for my cock?” And god- you did fucking like the sound of that.

“I- I can’t hold it, sir.” You whispered, squeezing your eyes shut and focusing on staving off your orgasm. He slowed to a stop, making you whine and squirm, his grip tightening on your hips painfully in response.

“Greedy fucking slut.” He spat.

“I’m sorry.” You whimpered, still trying to move your hips to get the friction back.

“Keep acting up and I’ll fuck your ass right now— no lube, no prep.” He warned, making you freeze. “There you go. You can be an obedient little whore, you just need some motivation, don’t you?” He cooed mockingly and you whined with a blush.

“I’m going to keep fucking you. If you come, I’ll ruin it, then finish in your ass. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” You whispered, staring up at him with wide, tearful eyes. He resumed the brutal pace, making you cry out at the sudden pleasure.

“Fucking take it.” He gritted, hips snapping into you impossibly faster and harder. “You want to be my whore? Then act like it.” Your hands fisted the sheets hard enough to make your fingers ache as you focused on anything but your impending orgasm. His words were making it incredibly difficult though.

“Don’t forget, bitch— you’re replaceable. I can get a pocket pussy anytime I want and at least that toy will actually focus on my pleasure for once.” He spat, making you let out a choked sob.

“I’m sorry— please I’m sorry, sir, I just- I can’t help it.” You cried, walls fluttering around his length as you got closer and closer. “You just feel so fucking good.” You whimpered. His grip tightened on your hips even more, making you wince.

“I guess I shouldn’t expect much else from a slut, should I? You get a cock inside you and all that training just disappears.”

“No- no, I’m sorry.” Despite the protest, it was getting harder and harder to prove that his statement was incorrect. “I still remember— I’m good.” You whimpered.

“Oh are you?” He asked and you nodded in response. “I don’t know if I believe you. Not when you’re seconds away from coming without permission.”

“I'm trying! Please, I'm trying..” You said through a sob, tears welling in your eyes. When someone knocked on the door again, your eyes widened as you whimpered.

“What?” He spat, never slowing his pace. The door opened and you bit your lip, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Falcone’s guys are there. We think he’s trying to bust one of his imports.”

You tried to think about violent death, vomit, dead animals— anything to hold off your orgasm. But it was no use. Slapping a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans, your back arched even more in his hold as you fell over the edge. He stopped abruptly, making you whine and try to fuck yourself on his cock, which was useless because of the way he was holding you.

“I’ll deal with it later. Let me know if anything important goes down.”

“Yes, sir.” He said, then closed the door. The second it was shut, you were being dropped onto the bed, his cock leaving your sensitive hole almost painfully.

“Stupid fucking slut.” He spat, making your bottom lip tremble. You couldn’t look at him, not when you knew how furious he was. “That’s what gets you off? Being watched by my men? Maybe I should bring a few in here so you can give them a real show.”

“…No.” You whined, brows furrowed as you frowned.

“No? But you seemed to enjoy it just now… After all, you fucking came from it.” You let out a choked sob at the venom in his voice.

“I’m sorry, sir.” You whimpered.

“What am I gonna do with you, huh? Clearly training doesn't work.”

“Please— I’m sorry. It was an accident.”

“Maybe I should just lock up your cunt until you can learn to follow orders.” He gave a harsh slap to your clit and you cried out as tears welled in your eyes.

“No! No— please. Please don’t, master,”

“Oh it’s master now?” He chuckled, making your face heat up.

“Y-yes. You’re my master, my owner. And I’m your whore, sir.” You whimpered.

“That’s fuckin right. But what does it say about me if I allow my bitch to disobey me?”

“I’m sorry, sir. Please punish me, hurt me— anything but locking me up.” You begged pathetically. He seemed to think about it for a moment before getting an idea.

“I’ll let you choose your punishment. You can either be locked up for however long I see fit, or I can fuck your ass right now, without any prep or lube.” You whined and looked away from him.

“Sir…”

“You have three seconds, then I’m choosing for you.” He warned. You know how painful anal can be, even with some prep and lube, so you can’t even imagine what it would feel like with nothing.

“The first one.” You said quietly, feeling like you were about to cry at the thought of what you just asked for.

“Chastity belt it is then. I’ll have someone get one tonight. For now though,” he let your legs drape over his hips as he lined his cock back up with your hole, “I might as well come in this fuck hole one last time.” He pushed in and immediately started bucking his hips, making you choke on a moan at the suddenness. “I hope it was worth it. That was the last orgasm you’ll have for a while.” You whined and squeezed your eyes shut— it wasn’t worth it. But he knew that.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“Fucking save it. Just shut up and let me use my defective fleshlight to get myself off.” A strangled moan escaped you at the blatant objectification and humiliation of you. You bit your lip to muffle as much sound as you could, trying to be good for him.

You could tell he was close though which was making it harder. His hips snapped into your abused hole relentlessly and he was letting out quiet grunts and moans as his eyes trailed over your body.

“Can’t believe I fuckin’ keep you around.” He muttered, making you frown. “A sex doll would do a better job than you.” You wanted to apologize and beg and plead, but you weren’t sure if you were allowed to talk. So you stared up at him with furrowed brows, your bottom lip trembling as the tears finally started to fall. “Don’t fucking cry about it, we both know it’s true.” He spat, making you whine pathetically.

“I don’t ask for much, do I? I just want a warm hole to fuck and pretty, obedient little bitch to use however I want. I give you a bed, a collar, three meals a day, my cock, all of those silly books, but you can’t do just that in return?”

“Permission to speak, sir?” You said quietly, your voice barely audible over the loud smacking of skin as he fucked you.

“Since you asked so nicely.”

“I- I’m sorry for making you unhappy. I appreciate everything that you do for me and I want to return the favor however you wish… ‘m gonna be better, sir. Promise.” It was hard to get the words out with the intensity of his thrusts but you did a decent enough job for him to understand at least.

“However I wish?”

“Yes, master.”

“Let’s start by making me come then, hm?” You nodded eagerly, excited for him to finally fill you up. He grabbed your hips and lifted you off the bed a few inches to start snapping into you at a brutal pace.

“You’re my fuckin’ whore, you understand?” He growled, breathing growing heavier. “My men don’t make you come— I do. So fucking act like it.”

“I only come for you. N-no one else.” You whimpered, fisting the sheets to try and ground yourself.. “I only serve you, ‘m your whore. No one else’s.” You agreed, nodding desperately.

His low grunts and moans got louder until he was forcing his cock deep inside you and holding you there as his cock started twitching, spurring ropes of come against your walls. He cursed under his breath as his hips occasionally bucked forward, trying to bury his length impossibly deeper even though the pressure on your cervix was almost becoming painful.

“Who’s whore are you?” He asked through a breath, chest lightly heaving as he panted.

“Yours.” You were equally breathless. He leaned over you and grabbed your cheeks in one hand, making you let out a startled whimper.

“Say my fuckin’ name! Who’s whore are you?” He all but yelled, scaring you a little.

“The Arkham Knight’s! I’m the Arkham Knight's whore.” You rushed out and he studied your face for a moment, making you stomach twist with nerves.

“That’s right. And unless you want to be replaced, you better start acting like it.” He leaned back up and slowly pulled out, then spread your folds for a better view of his come dripping from your hole. “It’s a shame such a good cunt is going to waste.” You blushed and frowned in response.

“I’m sorry, sir.” You said quietly.

“I know.” He suddenly got up and retrieved some rope then reached for your wrists. You held them out to him as he tied them together, then to the headboard. “Since I can’t trust you to not come without permission, you’ll stay tied up until I come back with the chastity belt.” You whined and squirmed, pulling on the knots to test their strength, but they were unmoving. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Hours?” You whimpered as he stood up. Your cunt was still aching and he was going to leave you like this for hours? Instead of responding, he grabbed his helmet and walked out. You let out a heavy breath and did your best to not think about anything that would get you even more worked up, but it was useless. You couldn’t help but think about what he was doing right now and what that would mean for you in the very near future.

Sorry I lowkey don’t know how to end this lmao

Taglist (join here)

@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @faebirdie @nashja @whydoyoucare866 @zurakoisanhornysimp @brooklynscherry-z @wartofart @deimks @n1ghtw1ngslvr (didn’t let me tag ->) @idkdudsworld

#arkham knight smut #the arkham knight #arkham knight x reader #arkham knight #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader smut

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ghcstao3 · 6 months

Text

Ghost never really learned how to properly tie a tie.

He never had reason to. Never had a father that would teach him, either. And when it comes to formal dress after joining the military, he’d always fidget and tug and prod at knots until they looked right, whether or not they were done properly.

He’s tried looking up tutorials, sure, but it’s just… overwhelming as to how many ways ties can be knotted. So he never bothers. Just does his best to pretend like he knows even when he’s so, so lost.

Because it doesn’t matter.

At least, not until—years down the line—his and Soap’s wedding.

Ghost figures it’s his time to finally learn, then, because it has to be perfect. He can’t mimic a knot for such an important day, just praying for the best, he has to do his tie up properly.

But he can’t.

He tries, over and over, watching videos and looking at picture-by-picture instructions, but he can’t. Ghost gets frustrated, hands trembling more and more every attempt until eventually he just… gives up. Rips off the tie and resigns himself to slumping into the nearest chair, running fingers desperately through hair he’d taken so long to make look nice.

Soap finds him much too close to the start of the ceremony, quick to rush to his side and ask what’s wrong.

Ghost isn’t sure when the tears had started welling, or when his bottom lip had started to wobble. He lets Soap gently guide his hands away from his head, pressing thumbs lightly into open palms.

“You’ll think it’s stupid,” Ghost mutters. His tie is loose around his neck, an irritating reminder of why he’s yet to be ready to meet Soap at the end of the aisle.

Soap smiles softly at him. He looks so handsome, as always—him and his perfectly tied tie.

“I doubt it,” he says, oh-so kindly. “Never is.”

Ghost laughs quietly, the sound shaky, watery. He swallows the lump that threatens to rise in his throat, peering into the comfort of Soap’s eyes to lend him strength as he confesses, “I can’t get my fucking tie right.”

“That’s all?” Ghost nods and Soap sighs, sitting down on his knees, pressing the back of Ghost’s hands to his forehead like an odd sort of worship. “Thank God. Had me worried you were rethinking things.”

"I'd never rethink this, I just—" Ghost takes a shuddering breath. "Fuck, I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Ghost mourns the loss of Soap's warmth as he lets go of his hands. He lifts a hand to drag through Ghost's hair, surely mussing it in a way that looks better than the tangled mess Ghost had probably left it as. "All you had to do was ask for help."

Ghost's gaze falls to the ground as shame burns his ears. "I just didn't want you to think—"

"I'd never think any less of you for not bein' able to tie a tie, Simon," Soap assures him. "There's a stupid amount of ways to do it 'right', anyway. C'mere."

Ghost leans forward enough for Soap to have a comfortable grip on his tie. He watches Soap's face the entire time, the subtle concentration in his expression, though surely he should be paying attention to how he ties the knot instead.

He doesn't move even as Soap has switched to adjusting his collar and smoothing the artificial wrinkles of his dress shirt.

"Pure braw," Soap murmurs. He sits up to capture Ghost in a kiss, sweet and innocent and comforting.

"You're supposed to save that for after the vows," Ghost says once they break apart.

Soap barks out a laugh. "Prude," he teases.

He stands slowly, then, wincing when his knees crack as he gets up. Soap offers out a hand to Ghost, of which Ghost happily accepts.

Soap grins at Ghost, then, bright and blinding and full of love.

"Let's go get married, then, shall we?"

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghost x soap #ghostsoap #ghoap #writing

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dira333 · 2 months

Text

Not needed - Itoshi Rin x Soulmate! Reader

Requested by the lovely anon who sent in many amazing Requests (You know how you are) - tagging @shoulmate because she's been begging me to write something for Rin

“Oh, is that your soulmark?” Bachira leans in, far too close for comfort.

Rin pulls his shirt down and takes a step back. “Why do you care?”

“Well, duh?!” Bachira tries to pull the fabric back up, but Rin’s hand’s close around his like a vice. “It’s none of your business.”

“Whatever?” Bachira grins and steps back as far as he can, pulling his hands back as soon as Rin’s grip loosens. “I’m sure I will catch it some other day.”

Rin scowls but Bachira just laughs. Looks like a normal Tuesday after all.

Isagi hasn’t found his soulmate yet. Bachira’s pretty sure his is the cute girl from his neighbourhood. Reo keeps talking about his even though everyone’s tired of it already - his parents found her right after he was born and made sure she got the best education possible, after all, she was going to be his wife one day.

No one seems to care that Rin’s going to kill them any second if they don’t stop bringing up this topic. Who cares about Soulmates? They’re here to play soccer!

“I don’t need one!” He snaps at Chigiri when the guy has the audacity to point out something about his soulmark. “If I ever happen to meet them, I’ll make sure to let her know.”

“Oh no-” Rin hears just seconds before he gets drenched in something ice cold and sticky. Isagi’s sitting across from him, hands pressed against his mouth to keep the laughter in. Bachira has less control over it, his laugh bellowing out and pulling all the attention. Great. Just what he needed on this short break from training.

He turns, ready to rip the head of whoever is responsible - but the words die in his mouth.

You look like you’re ready to cry, wringing a single napkin in your shaking fingers. “I-I- I’m so sorry, I just wanted some… That was my last-”

Somewhere in between your stuttering, he catches on that you’d had a horrible day and this should have been the thing to make it even, a little treat for all the suffering. But said treat is sticking to his skin, turning his previously white shirt an ugly shade of brown.

“Come on,” he barks, moving to pull you away from the guys but stopping at the last second. He can’t just drag a girl around, especially one he doesn’t know. His parents raised him better than that. “Follow me.”

Somewhere on the short trek to the front, you must have mistaken his grimace for an inviting smile, because you haven’t stopped talking, telling him everything he could have wanted to know about the week you’ve had.

“Order,” he barks out, softening his tone when your eyes turn wide. “Please.”

Your order is impressively long. He’s only ever ordered black coffee. No wonder his shirt feels this sticky. When it’s time to pay, you turn and blink up at him.

“I spent my last money on that drink,” you point out, nibbling on your lower lip - it’s a little distracting.

“Fine,” he huffs and pays.

It’s only when he’s back at his table that he realizes that this went totally wrong. Weren’t you supposed to pay for his drink? As an apology for drenching him in coffee? But he can’t very well get up again, not when Bachira’s pointing out how cute you were and Isagi’s snickering every few minutes. If he’d be here with less perceptive people, he’d dare to turn his head just a little, to look over to the corner of the café where he knows you went. But he isn’t and so he doesn’t.

“Oh God!” The words are muttered, but Rin still hears them, curses his good hearing when the words are followed by a shrill squeak only seconds before you tumble down the stairs - and right into his arms.

If he were anyone else, he’d probably admire you - unable to walk down a flight of stairs yet sticking the landing perfectly, arms flung around his shoulders like you’re from one of the movies his mom loves to watch.

“Hi!” You squeak when he lets you down right away, hands burning from where he’d held you. At least no one saw.

Rin doesn’t know how it happened or what’s more surprising about it, but he finds himself in a friendship group that contains not only him but you too. He might have gotten it wrong in his head, but he’s pretty sure you knew Chigiri from before Blue Lock. Or was it Kunigami? He’s never too sure with these two.

Maybe he’s being too poetic about it, has been too influenced by his mother's taste in movies, but you remind him of the sun, warm light flooding every room you step into. He dares to tell you once, embarrassment clamping his mouth shut when your response is a shy smile and wide eyes. Never, never will he tell you that he feels like the moon in your orbit - yes, he knows the moon orbits the earth, it’s a metaphor! - only able to light up the night because he’s been in your presence.

You’re too clumsy for your own good, too good-hearted for being friends with rascals like these. You never catch it when Bachira nudges you into helping him out, don’t realize when Nagi uses you as a headrest or a means to get from one place to the other. More than once Rin has to step in, teeth bared when Chigiri grins and asks “Are you her bodyguard or what?”

“Do you have a soulmate?” Isagi asks one day after training when all of them are draped across the tables in the little café down the street, their muscles resembling cooked noodles more than anything.

“Of course!” You smile and wave your straw around, almost taking out Kunigami’s left eye in the process. “Why are you asking? You already saw!”

Rin tenses. He can feel it before it happens, how his spine stiffens and his back turns ram-rod-straight. He forgot. He forgot that those still existed. Isagi throws him a smile that could mean everything and nothing at all. Rin pushes himself up from the table, grumbling something under his breath that could mean “I have to use the toilet,” as well as “I’m going to run the world.”

He’s en route to the barista when he realizes that he’s left his wallet back at the table. He does the only reasonable thing and walks out of the café.

The cool air lifts some of the tension and the fact that he’s out of sight of his friends - if he can call them that - helps as well. Here, where he can feel like he’s almost alone, he can think.

Not that he wants to think.

Thinking just leads to realizations. Like the fact that you’re not his. That he’d want you to be his. That the stepping stones turned into something he could almost call friends.

“Rin?” Your voice pulls him out of the moment. You pull the door close behind you, shiver in the cool air. “You forgot your wallet.”

“Thank you.”

You smile. “It isn’t like you to forget something. Am I finally influencing you?”

“Like you could,” he huffs, but your smile only widens.

“Bachira told me that you’re probably upset because you’re the only one who hasn’t seen my Soulmark yet.”

“I’m not-” He starts but stops when you roll up your sleeve. His mouth’s dry and the words die on his tongue.

There, in the crook of your elbow, is the same mark that sits right above his hip bone.

Rin can’t help but think of his own words, his own vows.

He doesn’t need a soulmate. Just like friends, they’re nothing but a hassle, a weight holding him down. Or so he thought.

You blink up at him and he wonders if you know what’s going on inside of his head.

“Do you wanna get something to eat?” He hears himself ask, his hand reaching out for yours. Your skin is warm under his touch. You take his hand like you’ve never done anything else.

“Are you paying?” You ask, smile doing that little quirk he’s grown to look for.

“What?” He asks back. “Are you offering?”

You giggle, shaking your head. He knows you too well.

When you pull him forward, he doesn’t hesitate.

He might not need you, but he sure as hell wants you by his side.

#my writing #blue lock x reader #blk x reader #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin fluff #rin fluff #rin x reader #blue lock fluff

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yandere-kokeshi · 6 months

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heyyyy, i saw your werewolf TF 141 posts, and i have some ideas brewing >:) just imagine trying to go to the bathroom in peace or worse trying to leave for work or something else, and if you do escape, if you come home smelling like another person (especially another man 👀) i feel like there would be a lot of chaotic moments happening that household :p

Warnings: yandere behavior, possessiveness, and smut shit, minors DNI!

No, because you’re right. They’re the definition of, ‘If you leave me, we will kill you (softly) >:(!’

They’re always on you the minute you get home, regardless of where or who you went with. The wildest men, Soap and Gaz, are immediately surrounding you at the door, gently nipping your hand to guide you to their nest; before growling out as the disgusting smell of another person waves in like flies.

All of them hate outsiders. The smell of humans — the scent of someone else on you? Yeah, that’s one way to make them lose their goddamn mind. They growl at your skin, furiously licking it away and dragging you back to the den, so they can replace it with theirs.

Funnily enough, Kyle jokingly brought up a small thought a few weeks ago: what if they pretend to be a service dog? You laughed then, taking it as a joke. However, It’s a thought they hadn’t stopped thinking about since. And it’d be perfect, really.

They’ll act nice, they’d promise. Taking turns every day. Nudging your legs, pretending to be alerting you, but in reality, annoyed that customers are continually chatting you up at the grocery store; but they won’t blame them. You are pretty.

Whenever they want attention in public, they’d force you on the ground — laying on top of you, pretending to be doing DPT. And of course, narrowing their eyes at anyone who wants to touch them.

Though, ignore the top half, once coming home from work, they’re always on you the minute you step through the front door, regardless of where or who you went with. Price is immediately surrounding you at the door, gently nipping your hand to guide you to the nest; before growling out as the disgusting smell of another person waves in like flies.

Next you know, you’ve fallen to the floor, vigorously dragged by your ankle, whom by Johnny — only growls when you resist. Yelling at them only excites them more to show you who you belong too.

Once you finally get out of the cuddle ball, which you were immediately forced into once you got home from work, one of them will follow you and whine at the door. High chance it’s Johnny, who will scratch at the door, barking at you to come out (and maybe chewing at the fuckin’ door, it ain’t the first time you’ve had to replace the damn thing!). He starts to jump around you when you come out, his tail wagging excitedly.

In the mornings, they loathe seeing you get ready for work. The changing to appropriate clothes makes them growl, and you leaving the bedroom to grab your keys makes them whine. Johnny likes to purposely play games, especially grabbing your keys and running around the house, which leads to you chasing him and being late.

Most of the time, you’re chewed out by your boss — you being late so many times is a heavy toll on your shoulders. And when you come home, you’re obviously irritated. They can tell and smell it from you.

They try to make you feel better. They really do! But why can’t you see you only need them? All of them surround you, making you irritable, laugh when they lick you. But only whine, when you tell them to move or get out of the way; ears flat down when you slam the bedroom door to be left alone.

Either way, if you dare to get ready for work, after purposely ignoring them the night before, they can easily overpower you. Biting at the back of your knees, causing you to quite literally fall face-first and then quickly sitting on top of your back; making you learn that you require them and need to stay home. They need to protect you, so why can’t you understand that?

Punishments are rare. But if you keep pushing their limits, especially when you come back from a friend’s night quite late, they get on all fours. Turning in their full forms and fuck you senseless until you promise you won’t leave without their permission.

But, once in a while, they’ll let you go without any trouble. They give you a bunch of kisses, growling in promises that you’ll be back before 8pm. And if you decide to push it, even by 10 minutes? They’re angry, and pent-up with annoyance yet again.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, it helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

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downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles · 9 months

Note

Your back! Hi! :D Ok, the guys adore and are protective of their female human best friend (fem reader). She shares a strong bond with them, and they with her. So, if she ever gets injured or sick, the guys are protective for a while. She is ready to help them again (as much as she can with being a human and all) but what she doesn't realize is that this time it's close to their spring season, making them very protective, territorial, and aggressive to outsiders. How would this play out as they are close to their primal time of the year, and she wants to go with them as they're about to leave on patrol, but they won't let her? Fluffy ending. 🥺(maybe some turtle noises and behaviors too)

Protective TMNT headcanons—reader wants to come on patrol

Bayverse, 2003, or 2012 if it suits ya. 🤷‍♀️. SFW! Mentions of "spring season" for the boys but nothing s*xual. hope u like it @pokemew119 !

Leonardo:

• Like Leonardo, we'll be straight to the point with this one—he's not going to want you going out with them. Normally, he doesn't want you to. Now he really doesn't want you to

• Due to their biology, springtime can be pretty dreadful for the bunch (for Splinter, too, he's the one having to manage them). Aggression, sensitivity, protectiveness, fussing over their rooms, etc. So you asking Leo to go out on their nightly patrol with them was a "this really isn't a good time" moment for him

• "The Lair is warm and safe, why would you want to come out here, anyways? Leave the fighting to me. That's what I'm here for, that's my job."

• Can be a little bit of an ass about it ngl, because he just wants to know you're home with someone he actually trusts to protect you, their father

• You heard Leo bark your name as you started up the ladder out of the sewers. Blue eyes giving you a suspicious look. You were trying to sneak topside so you'd be out there before he was able to protest. "No, no, go ask Master Splinter to show you some stuff if you want something to do so badly."

• Pats you along back to the Lair, watching to make sure you actually go back inside

• If you DO end up out there with them, he's going to be stressing a little more than usual about the setup because it throws him off having someone he feels he needs to constantly look out for, unlike his brothers who are more or less self-sufficient. But you bet you're always going to be his first priority, no hesitation

Michelangelo:

• For once, the heightened senses of springtime had Mikey thinking slightly more rationally than usual

• "Babycakes, you sure you want to come? It's ugly out there, smells bad, full of dudes always asking for a beat-down, maybe you should stay." Ruffles your hair for reassurance. "We can play games when I get back!"

• Secretly tries to dissuade you from even wanting to go out with them in the first place with promises of fun back at home

• If you do go anyways, he's taking every chance to show off his nunchaku skills

• Gets annoyed at his siblings for taking your attention away from him (oop there's the possessiveness)

• Very touchy, constantly hanging off of you or trying to play-fight, sit close to you on the sofa, scoot his chair towards you at dinner, etc.

• You ask if you can go with them on their way out and you catch Mikey

• He smiles big and sheepishly shakes his head, "Sorry, y/n, not tonight! You're kickin' back in my beanbag tonight and hanging out, not running around New York." End of conversation. You try to say something, he interrupts you, thumping your shoulder. "I'll text you! See ya, angel!"

• More passive about his protectiveness and isn't so outright about it like Leo, but on the inside, still doesn't fully understand why he feels that way (even though Donnie has explained over and over again)

Donatello:

• "You want to come out with us? Not gonna work, y/n, this is real stuff," he said amicably, raising his brow ridges. "There's been a three-point-four percent increase in crime rate just around the next four blocks, and that's with us kicking tail every other night. Statistically, you're liable to become a target and..."

• Donnie gets real irritable in spring and tends to avoid his brothers, argues with Leo about about their rooming situation bc he wants to be alone (except for with you)

• Sets up an entire cozy corner in his lab for you to chill in while he's gone and hopes you'll use it, even though he'd definitely rather be home and not topside at this time

• When you ask him to tag along on their patrol, he starts spouting off all the reasons you shouldn't and ultimately wins that debate

• Compromises by letting you man his tracking/observation station and communicating with them on their missions from the sewers

• He actually loves knowing you're on tap while he's out in the city and he can just radio in whenever he feels like it

• "See, isn't being our control center way better?"

Raphael:

• Raph already has a huge attitude problem, make that tenfold in spring.

• Gets waaaaay too overprotective at times, verges on bothersome levels of spazzing over what you do and where you go

• "You wanna go on patrol? With us? Just, out in New York City? With the Foot? Ahah, ain't happening, y/n. 'You said 'maybe' last time?' Well, I'm sayin' no, this time. You'll be bored?" He shrugs. "Watch TV or something. But you're not comin'."

• If you do somehow manage to go (highly unlikely), he's going to be grumpy and complain the whole time because he's secretly just worried and his hormones are out of whack

• Gets overly aggressive defending you from anything and probably stirs up more conflict over it tbh

• "It ended up fine that time, but don't do that again, ya hear?" He doesn't want to seem like he cares too much, so he flicks your head. (That man is head over heels for you)

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supermarketbae · 2 months

Note

Billy smut where he’s mad at you for wearing a mini skirt with no panties at a party showing off his goods so when you guys get home, super rough sex and brat taming.

pussy spanking, brat taming, degrading, all the nine yards pls and thank you🫶🏻

ooooo anon I love your thoughtss (I’m so not completely normal about this 🖤) gif isn’t meant to represent skin tone of reader

The Little Black Dress

warnings: rough sex (all kinks mentioned above), enemies to lovers, jealous! Reader, jealous! Billy, choking, praise, edging, anddd that’s about it (unrealistic time period???)

You knew what you were doing when you get ready for Jason’s party. Twirling in the mirror you put on a sultry smile before laughing at your own antics, finally happy with your appearance. A short, tight, mini dress clung to your confident frame. Shrugging on a cropped cardigan you slip on your heels and check the time. 30 minutes late.

You mused.

Perfect.

What you were trying at, was a dramatic enterance and Billy Hargrove’s attention which ended after a new girl named Chrissy moved into town and completely stole your spotlight. I mean, you didn’t blame Hargrove completely. She was a gorgeous girl, but it was frankly obvious that her eyes were set somewhere else when she immediately turned him down.

It was surprising when the flirtatious advances from Billy stopped. Even though you classified each other’s relationship as ‘enemies’ you’d come accustomed to the flirting remarks he flung your way— only your way in fact— he’d stopped dating other girls a while back. You’d never be as pompous as to chalk it up to him being absolutely enraptured by you. But he was…

Every flippant reply and every confident eye roll you gave back to Billy’s lewd attempt at flirting had him stumbling over his next words in badly concealed affection for you. You’d just refuse to see it. So, in yet another misinterpreted attempt, Billy started flirting with Chrissy in an effort to try to make you jealous. Billy knew she didn’t want him, but the first look of seething contempt on your face was worth it. But soon, when your contempt turned to ignoring him all together… Billy knew he fucked up.

And as he saw you walking in, decked out, confident and without glancing at Billy even once (sidestepping him in the process). Slinking through the crowd you grimace when you see Jason Carver motioning for you to come over. But a glance over your shoulder and the daggers that Billy was glaring into your soul made you smile widely sauntering to his scrawny form.

Before you can even reach a reasonable distance Jason whistles at you lunging out and putting an unwelcome, unsteady arm over your shoulder. “Welllll hellooo Gorgeous glad you made it !” Jason slurs to your slightly recoiling form. “I’m just peachy.” You try to purr back but your voice trembles a bit from badly hidden disgust. “Well that’s lovely, much like yourself doll.” Jason hiccups at your fake simpering giggles.

As you allow him to slip his hand down your back you smile in triumph when you see Billy pushing through the crowd. His eyes trail up your figure as he barks “Fuck off Jason. If you want to keep your head, hands the fuck off her!” The blatant possessiveness in Billy’s voice had you biting your lip in anticipation. So as Jason grumbled, knowing his place enough to walk away, you truly simper when Billy grabs you gently, yet still dominating and pulls through the crowd to the upstairs of the Carver residence.

As the door to the room closes— Jason’s room you realize in a sickening sweetness. Billy bites out “What the fuck were you playing at with Carver!” You’re somewhat stunned into silence at his scolding but manage to snark “what do you mean—“ you gasp as he grabs you roughly tilting your chin up so you’re looking at him. And before he can say anything else: “I’m not fucking yours. Why do you care?” You bat your eyelashes innocently feeling a warm heat when Billy smirks down at you.

“Really sweetheart?” Billy mumbles trailing a hand down your excited figure “Oh but you could be…” Billy whispers. You blush heavily taken aback by his forwardness. “Don’t you want to be?” He says slightly softer and you find yourself nodding. Suddenly his lips are on yours, and you find yourself asking why you didn’t kiss this infuriating boy sooner.

In a whirl of lustful kisses and groping hands you find yourself pressed on a plush king bed, pillows falling as you wrap your legs around Billy’s waist. You keen softly as Billy reaches low intent on pleasuring you through your panties. He grunts when he finds that they aren’t there. “Naughty fucking girl.” Bill sighs, lowering himself onto his forearms, caging himself around you. You realize you’re shaking when Billy chuckles. “such a fragile thing darl’” the low rumble of Billy’s voice goes straight to your cunt. Your brows furrow in need as Billy pushes a finger inside of you. “Actin’ like a fucking slut out there but you can’t fucking take it?” Billy’s question has you writhing at the degradation. You shake your head vehemently biting your lip as Billy quirks his lip into a smirk.

You squeal loudly as he gives a sharp slap to your clit. “Jesus sweets,” Billy drawls pinning your hips open with a large hand. “Fucking dripping for me.” You jolt as Billy places another electrifying slap to your throbbing pussy.

“You know what I’m gonna fucking do sweetheart?” Billy kisses up your neck as you flounder, whimpering and gasping as you try to answer. So ever aware of your already needy state Billy rasps “I’m going to fuck you until your pretty little cunt remembers the shape of my cock.”

Your head cocks back at the vulgarity of his lewd musings. Your legs shake as Billy adds another finger to your fluttering heat. “Billy—a-ah-s’much I can’t!” Your mewls only spur Billy to thrust his fingers deeper into your cunt. “Awh baby, you think I fucking care that it hurts?” His cruel groan has you whining clinging to his bicep in an attempt for him to stop— or keep going, you didn’t know.

“fucking hell you want to cum?” Billy says index finger coming to play at your swollen clit. You nearly scream when he pulls his fingers out of your sloppy hole licking at your arousal that’s glistening on his fingers. “Taste like heaven darl’ s’a pity brats don’t get to cum.” Billy chides meanly to you. “Puh-please—ah- Billy needa c-cum!” You moan raggedly as Billy hurriedly undoes his belt, each clink of silvery metal cause a shiver to rack your body. You nearly cry as Billy fucks his length into you easily bottoming out in a smooth thrust that has your mind reeling in drunken pleasure.

“this what you needed—fucking shit your so tight- you n-needed to get dicked down huh?” You nod whining as Billy’s hand wraps oh so deliciously around your throat. The haziness making it all the more intoxicating at his bullying pace. You felt like you were coming apart at the seams. Billy’s other hand finds your hip gripping it strongly to pull you even closer to him. He needed to fuck you on his cock until you screamed.

You wail as his hips continue to piston into yours at a brutal speed, and somehow he just keeps going. Again and again hitting the spot that has you clenching around him and forgetting your own name. “Billy—mmm—please I’m-oh- im gonna cum-f-fuck me!” Your delirious sighs punch out a responding moan from Billy, who grips your throat tighter, adding to your already immense pleasure. “Yea-gonna cum on this cock? Gonna be my good girl? About fucking time my little cumslut.” All it takes is a final roll of Billy’s hips for you to go hurtling over the edge, lips parted in a wide ‘oh’.

Overstimulated, you try to shakily scoot away from Billy’s hard thrusts but moan as he grabs your waist, biting at your neck “I never said I was fucking done darling.” “loved the dress by the way.”

#Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove x reader smut #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargove imagine #billy Hargrove smut #billy hargove x reader #Billy Hargrove x female reader smut #billy hargrove x female!reader #stranger things smut #stranger things billy hargrove #Billy Hargrove x female smut #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fic #Billy Hargrove my beloved #billy stranger things

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zepskies · 1 month

Text

Take Me Home - Part 6

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from.

AN: Get ready for a rollercoaster of emotions…

Word Count: 4.6K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, tinge of spice~

❤️ Series Masterlist

“Michael?! What are you doing here?” you asked.

He stood there with determination set across his face.

“We really need to talk.”

“We already did! Just leave me the hell alone,” you said. If your day hadn’t been long already, you knew it was about to be even longer.

Because just as you began to close the door, Michael slapped a hand on the center of it and pushed his way into your apartment.

You gasped and had to back up a couple of steps. “What are you doing?”

“Just hear me out, and then I’ll leave,” Michael said, staring down into your eyes. “That’s all I want.”

He pushed the door closed behind him, but it swung open, just a crack. In his heated state, he hadn’t even noticed. Neither did you. You stepped back further into the center of the living room and crossed your arms with an angry frown.

“I don’t care!” you snapped. Your patience quota for the day had run out a long time ago. “I just want to be done. Don’t you get that?”

“I know,” he said, rubbing at his eyes. He looked tired as hell; like he hadn’t been sleeping well for weeks. Now in the light of day and not a dusky bar, you could see the darkness under his eyes and the stubble on his cheeks, though he was usually clean-shaven.

“I know and I’m sorry. I hurt you badly, and I never even told you why,” he said.

You tilted your head in contemplation. Because he was right. For all these months, you’d been so incensed at the bare facts of what he’d done, you’d never looked too deeply into the why.

The one time you’d asked him (while throwing his clothes and possessions out of your shared apartment at the time), he’d never given you a good answer.

“Okay, fine. Why did you do it then?” you asked. “Why did you betray me in the worst way possible, and still try to marry me?”

Michael sighed, his shoulders sinking. “The truth?”

That sparked your anger once more.

“No, keep lying to me like you’ve done from the very start!” you retorted.

“It wasn’t from the start!” he barked back. “It was around six months in, when we were dating. You and I had argued about something stupid. Kate came over to talk it out with me…just to talk. I swear to God. But we were drinking and…”

You let out a sigh, casting your gaze upwards. You really didn’t think you wanted to hear this after all. Michael earned your attention back though, when he took a step forward into your orbit.

“She got pregnant,” he admitted.

Your mouth fell open as your breath left your lungs. Your hands went to your temples in disbelief, and you made a sound of pure shock and distress.

“But she lost the baby early on,” he said. “She was devastated. I was too, but…I tried to help her through it. And it became this, this thing that wouldn’t let go of me. She wouldn’t let me go.”

You shook your head as furious tears welled up in your eyes. This was just too ridiculous and upsetting to compute. You didn’t even recognize the man that was standing in front of you anymore.

How could he blame Kate for what they’d done to you, and for clinging to him after losing her baby? How could he keep that from you, even when he asked you to marry him?

And how could he tell you all of this now and expect you to forgive him?

You didn’t have the words, but you held out a hand against him when he tried to take another step toward you.

“I know I fucked up. I fucked everything up. But you don’t have to come all the way here to run away,” he said. “Your parents miss you. Our friends…they all love you. And most of them rightly don’t want anything to do with me.”

He looked down then, with shame coloring his features.

Through your tears and the struggle of collecting yourself, you studied him closely with your arms crossed.

You’d known Michael for several years. Even considering the months you two had been apart, you knew he was the same—stubborn and hot-headed and full of audacity as ever. But…he also seemed genuinely remorseful. And desperate.

“If you give me one more chance, I promise I won’t mess it up again. I’ll be the man you deserve,” he said, taking your hand and uncrossing your arms in the process. “Believe it or not, I took a week off without pay, just to be here and get a chance to say this to you: I love you. I love you. And I know now that it’s meant to be you.”

You hesitated, and even made the mistake of looking up into his eyes. They were a crisp dark blue, and yet, not the warm green you’d come to crave. You shook your head.

“I get it, Michael. I really do…but I can’t do this anymore,” you said. “It’s too damn much.”

You began to slip your hand out of his, but he held you a fraction tighter. He frowned.

“Are you seeing someone? Is it that guy from the other night? That cop?” Michael asked.

“Stop it,” you warned in anger. Beau was part of the reason your heart held pain, but it wasn’t the main reason you wanted to be done with Michael Hadley.

You tried to twist your wrist out of his grip. He wouldn’t let you, instead, trying to bring you closer.

“That’s not an answer,” he said in frustration. “Please, we can start over—”

“Let go!” you demanded. You yanked your hand out of his, and the rest came on instinct.

Your slap was loud against his cheek, and it made your hand sting too. You also pushed him hard in the chest. Michael was forced to step back while holding his reddening face. He looked back at you in disbelief.

You were breathing hard, shocked even at yourself. You’d never done that before in your life, but then again, never had you felt the panic of a man holding you against your will.

Michael’s brows furrowed. He called to you in a pleading tone, and he reached for your arm to placate you.

You quickly stepped back again on reflex. Your heel tripped on the tile floor and you gasped as you felt yourself careening back…onto the glass coffee table behind you.

After putting his investigation of Avery to bed for the night, Beau felt drained on all counts.

He punctuated the end of his day by calling to check up on Frank Davis, the local firehouse chief, and the father of one of the firefighters who was killed a few months back. Brett, one of the other victims, had carried the guilt of his best friend’s death to his grave.

Inevitably, that case brought up old memories for Beau. It also reminded him of you, and the situation with your firefighter ex-boyfriend. ‘Scuse me, ex-fiancé.

He also felt bad about how things ended with you in his office. He knew he wasn’t being fair to you.

As his daughter reminded him the other night, if he’d just been a bit more “open” and honest, maybe he could’ve saved his marriage.

Now with Michael likely trailing you, he didn’t want you to feel like you couldn’t come to him, or even call him for that matter.

He seemed to be a bit of a hothead too, Beau thought. While he climbed into his truck and peeled out of the station, he debated stopping by to see you. Carla and Emily wouldn’t be getting over to his place for a couple of hours. That did give him some time.

And when it came down to it, was he a man, or was he a coward?

He knew it wouldn’t sit right with him if he didn’t try to make this right, in whatever small way.

So with that decision made in his mind, he drove over to your apartment complex. When he parked in one of the guest spots, he noticed another one occupied by a rental car, a gray sedan.

A small tingling of unease buzzed in the back of his mind. Beau approached your building, went inside, and started up the stairs. When he began to hear raised voices, a man and a woman who sounded too much like you, that gut feeling became a red hot alarm making his chest tighten.

He took the stairs nearly two at a time to get up to the second floor, where he saw that the door to your apartment unit was cracked open. He could hear glass shattering from inside.

He sprinted down the hall, and with a hand on his gun at his belt, he swung the door open.

The first thing he saw was Michael’s tall frame standing over you, frozen in shock. You were lying on your side amidst a shattered coffee table, fallen through the wooden frame. There was glass everywhere and underneath you, with magazines and pictures and other knickknacks strewn across the floor.

“What the hell’s going on here?!” Beau barked out.

Michael had turned at the sound of the door banging open. He met the sheriff with wide eyes. Beau’s expression set with a grim, angry frown. Though he willed himself to hold his temper in check, he immediately stepped forward and grabbed Michael’s shoulder, pushing him back and creating space between him and you.

“Step back,” the sheriff snapped.

“Beau,” you uttered in disbelief. You had tears in your eyes at the sight of him.

“Hey, darlin’,” said Beau. His voice was still rough, but more gentle for you. He knelt down at your side and carefully wrapped an arm around your waist to help lift you off the glass.

“You okay?” he asked you.

“Y-Yeah.” Though you raised one of your hands from the ground and blanched at the sight of a sizable piece of glass embedded in your palm. Beau’s lips flattened into a line.

He paused for a moment, turning his head back towards Michael.

“Stay exactly where you are,” he ordered, in a tone that boded no argument.

And Michael offered none. He stood there with furrowed brows. He even looked on at you in worry and frustration, knowing he couldn’t help you. He could only watch the sheriff make slow movements to help you out of the glass.

“Okay, slow for me,” Beau said. He spoke to you in low, calming tones whenever you made a sound of pain. He hooked an arm under your knees and lifted you out of the coffee table’s remains.

“Easy, I gotcha,” he murmured, helping you sit on the couch. You folded your legs off to the side, so you weren’t continuing to step in the glass on bare feet. Besides your right palm, your arm and right thigh had a few bleeding cuts of various degrees.

After making a short glance at a still concerned Michael, Beau turned to you.

“Did he push you?” he asked.

“No, I didn’t fucking push her!” Michael said.

“He didn’t,” you confirmed. “But he did shove his way into my apartment.”

Beau’s jaw tightened. He looked back at Michael, and his gaze demanded an answer.

“I just—I just wanted to talk! Obviously I didn’t mean for this. Goddamn it,” Michael said, wiping a frustrated hand over his face. “Are you okay?”

You sighed. Beau set a hand on your shoulder.

“Do you want to press charges for trespassing?” Beau asked you.

“Oh, come on!” Michael exclaimed. Beau pointed at him with a hard stare.

“You pipe the hell down,” he said tersely. “And don’t you move a damn inch. Because if you do, so help me, it’ll just about make my day.”

He flashed the other man a look at the handcuffs (and the gun) on his belt.

Beau then returned his attention to you. You were attempting to pick the glass out of your hand. He stilled your movements with a gentle hand on your wrist.

“Hey, hey, wait on that for me, okay?” he asked. You looked up at him tiredly.

“It’s okay. Just let him go,” you said. You shifted your gaze to Michael. “Go back to Chicago, for real this time. I’m not going anywhere.”

Michael’s face became disheartened, but his eyes fell to your injured hand. Blood was streaming all the way down your forearm and dripping on the tile floor, along with the other smears of blood amongst glass.

He knew what he’d done. It made him even more sick with himself.

He turned to leave.

You watched him go, and you could no longer hold in your quiet tears. It wasn’t for him leaving. You just couldn’t believe it had all come to this.

Beau lightly squeezed your shoulder.

“Hey, I’ll be right back, okay?” he said. “Do me a favor and don’t move.”

“Okay,” you said, in an uncharacteristically small voice.

Beau tried to give you a reassuring smile. He gave into the desire to sweep a stray lock of hair away from your eyes, allowing him to brush your cheek with his fingers. You gave him a small smile back, despite your watery eyes.

Beau nodded and got up from the couch. He made swift strides out of the apartment, making sure to close the door behind him. He then hastened down the hall and the stairs to catch up with Michael in the parking lot. Beau was hot on his trail to the rental car.

“Hey!” he called out.

Michael paused in his gait. He turned to face the sheriff, sporting a look of frustration.

“What?” he shot back.

“You better take her warning for the gift it is,” Beau said. He closed the distance between him and Michael, but resisted the urge to grab the other man and hurl him against the car.

“It’s time for you to go home,” Beau said. “I don’t want to see you in town. I don’t want to hear that you’re following her around or blowing up her phone. Do you hear me?”

Michael stood straighter, his jaw working in anger.

“Are you threatening me, Sheriff?” he asked.

“No. I’m thinking you’ll be smart enough to take some friendly advice,” Beau said, but his eyes were sharp. “If I have to threaten you, then we really will have a problem.”

Michael was younger, leaner, probably faster, but Beau edged him out by a couple of inches, on both height and build.

“Just let her get on with her life,” said Beau.

Fortunately, the standoff didn’t last long.

Michael’s anger soon relented, letting the guilt and shame shine through.

“Make sure she’s okay,” he said. “Tell her…that I’m sorry.”

Then he turned and walked away. Beau watched him get into his car and leave the premises.

It wasn’t until the rumble of the engine faded away that Beau released the clenched fists at his sides. He pivoted slowly on his heel and made his way back up to your apartment.

And your door was locked.

On one hand, he understood your fears. On the other hand, he’d asked you not to move from the couch.

“Who is it?” you asked, after he knocked.

“It’s just me, don’t worry,” Beau answered. You opened the door with your good hand and let him in, while holding up your bloody one with a bunch of crumpled gauze and medical tape hanging down your arm. It looked like you got the glass shard out, but you were struggling on the “wrapping it up” part.

“Oh, sweetheart, I asked you to wait for me,” he said. His brows furrowed as he took your wrist and elbow to steady you.

“Yeah, well, I got impatient,” you replied, but your attempt at a smile lightened him too.

Beau followed you to the kitchen sink and grasped your hand carefully. You’d already cleaned and sterilized the wound, so all he had to do was wrap it for you with some gauze and medical tape.

“This is kind of deep. You might wanna go to the ER,” he said. “I could take you.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s really not that deep,” you replied.

“You sure?” Beau asked, frowning at you. “How you doin’? You okay?”

Your face had been tight with pain while he tried to get the wrapping right with deft hands. At his questioning, you softened with a wry smile.

“I’m fine, more or less,” you said. “But…how…why were you here to begin with? How’d you know I was in trouble?”

Beau met your gaze for a moment. He was able to delay answering your question until he finished wrapping your hand. Afterwards, he sighed.

“I came to apologize,” he admitted. “But first, can I help you clean up around here? You just sit and relax. I’ll sweep up all this glass and mop the floor.”

You let out a long breath, your shoulders sinking. “Oh, Beau, don’t. You don’t have to do all that.”

“But see, I actually want to,” he said, giving you one of those grins you’ve come to know and expect. You couldn’t help but smile back.

“Okay.”

A thorough sweep, vacuum, and mopping, then a couple of cracked open beers and an order of Chinese later (plus cleaning and patching up the rest of your cuts), Beau sat next to you at the dining table and officially made his apology.

“I’m sorry for how things turned out today at the precinct,” he said.

You shook your head. You’d had some time to think about all of that, and there were things you could’ve handled better too.

“Beau, look. I get it,” you said. “You’re dealing with a lot at work, with Carla and Emily too, and…really, we haven’t known each other all that long. It wasn’t fair of me to expect you to open up on something that clearly still hurts you. Especially in the middle of your office.”

Beau let out a breath through his nose. He smiled and laid a gentle hand over your uninjured one, earning your widened gaze.

“You’re a sweetheart for that, but the truth is, you had a point today,” he said. “I’m a difficult man to know. It’s a flaw of mine that my ex-wife has pointed out several times. And even my daughter. Sometimes she looks at me like she can’t understand me.”

You bit the inside of your lip. You debated asking the question you wanted to ask. With his hand over yours, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand, you were able to gather your courage.

“Does it have something to do with the reason you were in grief counseling?” you asked. “About your partner on the job?”

Beau nodded, his smile fading. “Yeah, it does. It has a lot to do with Randy.”

He took a moment, but you gave him the time he needed to find his words. Eventually he began to explain to you what happened in Houston.

How he’d been an upper-level officer dealing with a narcotics case. His partner, Randy Santos, had volunteered to infiltrate a drug cartel undercover. He stayed in the field for a few months longer than protocol, but he was so close, he’d claimed. One bust, and they could arrest the kingpin. The entire cartel would crumble.

Beau had backed him up with the Chief, against his better judgment. When the time came that Randy had helped arrange a drug deal, Beau was the one leading the squad on the bust.

“It went south so fast,” he said.

And he paused in his story for a moment. His eyes were far away, lost in memories.

You squeezed his hand over yours to bring him back. He met your gaze.

“When it got down to it, I had two choices,” he said. “Take out the boss, or take out the guy right in front of me, Dante. Now, Dante had his back turned. He couldn’t see me. Would’ve been fish in a barrel…but I went for the head of the snake. I shot the kingpin. I didn’t realize that Dante had already burned Randy. Knew he was a cop.”

Beau met your gaze then. “Dante shot Randy in the head, point blank.”

Your mouth fell open in disheartened shock. Beau took a long sip of his beer, wishing it was whiskey.

“I saw it all…in slow motion. Just like the movies,” he said. “I see it almost every night, without fail.”

You shook your head helplessly. “Beau. It’s not—”

“Not my fault?” Beau gave you a sad smile. “Oh, but it was. Nothing else to it. Bad leadership. bad police work. Bad friend.”

He continued to drink his beer.

“And I checked out,” he said. “My wife and daughter paid the price of my absence. Picking myself off the bottom of whatever crusty bar would have me that night. Refusing to go to counseling. Generally making an ass of myself.”

You covered his hand with your bandaged one. It got him to look at you and forget his beer for a moment.

“It was a hard call,” you said. “Anyone could’ve made the same one you did.”

“Yeah. And it got my best friend killed,” Beau said. “His wife, his ten-year-old boy, his parents. They’ll never be the same because I messed up. I can’t abide that.”

He sucked in an unsteady breath. “It still…sometimes I wake out of a dead sleep, and I see his face. I see the body they brought back.”

His eyes were red and shining. The emotion in his voice choked you up as well, making your eyes sting.

You raised a hand to touch his cheek, your thumb drifting tenderly across his chin.

“You’re not a difficult man to know,” you said. A tear found its way down your cheek, and then another. You didn’t bother to wipe them away. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, it’s that you care. About your team, your family, everyone…even messy, accident-prone women.”

You gave him a smile at the last bit. He was able to give you one back, through his own unsteady breath.

“Especially those,” he agreed. Your hand moved down to his shoulder.

“And you also like to eat. A lot,” you quipped. “I think you’ve got about three stomachs.”

“Probably four, realistically,” he said with a tearful laugh. He wiped at his face with both hands. You waited for him to meet your gaze again before you continued.

“You’re also an old-fashioned cowboy,” you said, with a brighter smile. Your hand slid down, this time to his chest, over his heart. “But you’re a good man, Beau. That, I knew from the very beginning.”

Beau clasped your hand where it lay on his chest, almost on reflex. He was sure you could feel his heart tripping up, double timing. He reached out for your cheek, guiding your face up to his. He leaned over slowly, giving you time to say no, whether with words or with actions.

But your eyes, though still a bit shiny from tears, were nothing but beautifully welcoming. So he took a shot. He began to cross the distance between your lips and his.

And his phone buzzed on the table, making both of you jolt.

It was just a text message. Frowning, Beau looked over and read the preview. When he saw Emily’s name, he cursed under his breath. He reached for his phone and opened up the message.

Hey, where are you?

“Shit,” he said. “Emily’s been staying with me all week and Carla’s joining us tonight, to be safe. They’re there already, asking where I am.”

You would be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed beyond measure, but you nodded.

“Then you should go,” you said.

You squeezed his hand before you released him. Beau wasn’t happy about it either, but he did the same. He helped you clean up the dining table and gathered up his wallet and keys. You walked him over to the front door, where Beau debated how he should leave this.

The door was open, literally and figuratively as you leaned against its frame. You couldn’t hide your unease. You didn’t know where this left the two of you either.

Beau sighed and propped a curled finger under your chin, earning your gaze.

“I need to settle some things. After…” he trailed. You nodded at what he was trying to say.

“When Carla and Emily have stability again, we can talk,” you finished for him. “I’ll be here.”

He looked at you in wonder.

“You’ll really wait for that?” he asked. His brows creased, and he truly marveled at your patience with him. “You know you don’t have to.”

A smile curved your lips. “Something tells me you’re worth waiting for, Sheriff Arlen.”

Beau grinned at you fondly. He cupped the side of your face and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Well, thank God for that,” he said. “Really, thank you…”

Lord help him, but he couldn’t help himself. He finally crossed the distance and kissed you.

Your chest rose with your breath, but when your eyes fell shut, you couldn’t help but melt against him. You gripped the front of his buttoned-down shirt for stability while his fingers tangled in your hair. It all grew with heat when he tilted his head, tasting you deeper with each new kiss.

He pressed you into the doorframe, trapping your body with his. You held onto him like a lifeline.

While his hands drifted down your back and rested on your hips, bunching the material of your pretty yellow sundress, you twined your arms around his neck, pulling him flush against you. He felt your every curve, soft breasts and thighs and sweet sighs.

He released a sound of pleasure, deep in his throat. His lips veered away from yours to burn a slow trail down to your neck. He was satisfied by the way you moaned and struggled to catch your breath at his ministrations.

Your fingers wound up sweeping through his hair. It both soothed and aroused him, somehow. But Beau knew if he didn’t stop here, he wouldn’t be able to again.

He laid one last kiss under your ear that hinted with teeth, making you shudder. He pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against yours. You two breathed together for a moment, just existing here, hearts racing.

“I gotta go,” he said. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You nodded, biting your lip. He pulled back further and thumbed at your lower lip.

“Don’t do that, or I just might have to go back on my word,” he said, giving you a smirk.

You smiled in amusement. “Promise?”

Beau chuckled. He stole one more heated kiss before he withdrew from you, his hand lingering on your cheek. Heaving a sigh, you turned him around by his broad shoulders and reluctantly sent him on his way.

Halfway down the hall, he slowed to look back at you. Seeing you leaning against your door, still catching your breath, all hot and bothered…it nearly broke his resolve.

“Nope,” he muttered.

He shook his head and forced himself to keep walking until he hit the stairwell for the umpteenth time today.

He would stop three more times on the way to his car before he actually left your building.

AN: 😘 So, how'd you like the official "end" of Michael Hadley? And finally, finally, we get to a first kiss. In Part 7, we enter some even deeper waters...

Next Time:

“I’m actually glad you’re here,” she said. “I’ve kinda got a question for you.”

“Kinda?” you echoed with a smile, but you pat her on the knee. “What’s on your mind, honey?”

Emily looked a little unsure. It had you giving her your undivided attention.

“It’s about my dad,” she began. Your smile slowly fell, but now you were really listening.

“Okay,” you nodded.

Emily opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, the lights in the entire office went out.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 7

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miioouu · 7 months

Text

Mean Dad's Best Friend! Ghost pt 2

Continuation of this. In which you make him jelly. Tw: smut, age gap, f!reader, mean ghost, oral (male receiving), dumbification, appearance of Captain John Price and Sergeant Johnny ‘Soap’ McTavish. Wc: 1.6k

It wasn't an exaggeration when you felt as if you were the dumbest person to have ever existed. You could've denied his request, gotten over him and never thought about him ever again. But no, no you wanted to be his good girl, so you did it. The next day you texted her, that witch that ruined your life and ensorcelled your man, the one you called your best friend, to tell her about him.

"He's nice, really! Yeah he's a bit old, but aren't you tired of boys who don't know what they're doing? They're all bark no bites. But Ghost on the other hand, I don't know, he seems like a good man…" And it's stupid, why are you convincing her? Why are you saying all these nice things about the man who's using you, taking advantage of your love for him? Because he wanted you to do it, and even though you know it's a lie, you can't help but feel as if he'd keep his promise of coming back to you, of giving you what you wanted.

Oh you poor girl. So into that older big man, you'd throw your pride aside? You'd make the others look at you in pity? Your eyes were lined with tears during the next get together your father threw. She was in his arms, giggling and twirling her hair as he looked her up and down, as he smirked when his fingers would brush against her arm, chuckling when it’d cover with goosebumps. It’s you who should feel shivers down your spine by the way his calloused palm is pawing at your thighs under the table. It’s you who should be doing a poor job at hiding a hickey from the night prior. It’s you who should be his, it’s you who should be his, it’s you who should be his!

How could he do it? Make a poor young girl cry like that, break her heart and replace her with her best friend? You're not the only one wondering that, it’s obvious by the way they kept talking to you, Price offering you a sip of his whiskey to make you laugh as your father scolded him. Or Soap sitting you down next to him as he started telling you about his time in Chicago (only the good memories though, he would never worry you over his traumatising military life). As if both men had a silent agreement to take your mind off of mean Ghost. As if both men decided to make you forget about your disloyal friend. As if both men made it a competition of who can make you smile more, who could touch you more, who could make you blush more.

Seated between them, the captain had an arm thrown on the back of your chair, playing with your hair, rolling a strand between his digits before he’d start massaging your scalp. Johnny on your left, holding your hand in his, caressing your knuckles as a way to warm you up in the cold breeze of the last summer days, and every so often, he would lean to whisper something in your ear, his eyes involuntarily snapping down your chest, trying to hide his smirk when he’d catch a glimpse of your lace mint bra. But he’s not as sly as he’d thought he was, Ghost’s attention was on him, and his superior, as he played with the hem of the other girl’s dress. He was livid, his teeth clenched and gritting against each other. His eyes were red, slit like a big cat observing its prey, ready to pounce, to attack and devour. Not yet though, not yet, he’d let you relish in their immersion of you, let you drown in their obsession, he’d be the one to bring you back to the surface of reality.

He didn’t see it coming though, didn’t predict it, that you’d reciprocate. Why are you laughing at Soap’s stupid joke? And why are you giving Price doe eyes as he’s telling you about his latest accomplishment? It doesn’t compare to his anyway. He huffed, audible and loud, making his comrades, or right now, his competition look at him with a knowing smile, they beat him. His anger was obvious the moment you excused yourself, pushing away his toy and following you. “You’re having fun, yeah? You like having all this male attention on you, whore?” And you gasped, turning around to face him, a look of offence written clearly on your expression. “Sorry? Why do you care anyway? Shouldn’t you be busy with her?” you spat out, surprising him as he expected the usual dumb girl act from you, but this response only fueled his desire more. He took two large steps towards you, caging you between his muscular chest and the bathroom wall behind. His arm reached backwards to lock the door, before wrapping around your waist, pulling your hips flush against his, rutting to make you feel his anger. “You sure you wanna play with these two imbeciles? Let me remind you of something, darling. I didn’t give you what you wanted because I didn't want to, on the other hand they, they’re not able to…” His voice dripped with self-conceit, his hands on your hips shook with wrath, holding you so tight it began to hurt, bruise even.

You should say something, maybe yell for someone to help you, maybe push him away, tell him to leave you alone, that you’re not one to fool around with, but you didn’t. You couldn’t. Not with the way his hands slid under your shirt, like they always did, taking it off and throwing it somewhere. Not with the way his tongue darted out to wet his lip before they started attacking your neck, all the way down to your chest, groaning in more frustration when he couldn’t reach his dessert. He huffed and pulled away, or at least intended to, but as soon as you felt him lift up from your flesh you couldn’t help your hands from flying to push at his shoulders, keeping him in place, you couldn’t stop the whine that escaped from deep within you, an indirect pray for him to stay. He laughed at you, like he always did “See. No one can make you feel the way I do… No one will ever be able to put up with a slut like you the way I do. So forget about them, you belong to me…”

Possessive and obsessive, this is his nature. Once he gets his eye on something, God helps the poor souls that will try to take it away from him. God helps the poor soul that tries to get away from him, in this case, it's you. And it's unfair, he's unfair, he's always been. Shouldn't he be yours too? Shouldn't he belong to you too? Why is he claiming her too then? And who knows who else he got under him at night and he didn't let you voice out your frustrations, didn't let you scream or even think properly, sanely. Your lust for this hulk of a man made you lose all sense of rationality. "Say it. Admit it darling. You belong to me" You nodded, like the stupid girl he's used to. His hands left your hips, moved to your shoulders and pushed you down as he spoke with his gruff voice "No…use your voice" And again, how are you supposed to do that when your lips part to agree with him, your voice hasn’t even rumbled in your throat, he pushed the head of his cock into your wet cavern. Your eyes widened for a second before they fluttered, keeping tears as bay as he started to thrust his hips in and out of your mouth.

He groaned and sucked his teeth as he felt your lips around his base, forcing you to take him deeper, the tip of your nose brushing against his pubes, making it even harder to breathe. But no. What made it impossible to breathe was the hand that rested on the back of your head keeping you steady, massaging your scalp, his fingers dipping to the side slightly, rubbing your ears and it made your heart flutter, a hum of delight vibrated around him. “You like it, hmm? It’s better than that poor excuse of touch that old man was giving you, isn’t it dear? You know…you know my hands are better.” The heart doe eyes you gave him made him laugh, he knows you agreed. He knows from the way you willingly started bobbing your head, hollowing your cheeks and taking more of him in. From the way your hands pawed at the defined muscles of his thighs, your nails digging into his flesh leaving blood crescents. From the way your brows furrowed in concentration, tears sparkled under the harsh white light of the bathroom, silently begging to taste him. Maybe he’ll give you what you wanted this time, he promised after all, right? “You know I taste better too, hmm? Better than that useless sergeant, and certainly better than that hypocritical old captain.” He growled, his hips moving at a harsh speed and he cackled again…But it wasn’t him. “Hypocrite? Me?” A hand, still as calloused and harsh as Ghost’s, still as big and meaty, but somewhat warmer, pushed you off before grabbing your chin, making you look at storm blue eyes. John’s voice dripped with challenge as his head turned to look at the slightly younger man “You think you taste better? Let the sweetheart decide then, Lieutenant.”

#ghost x reader #ghost smut #cod x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley smut #smut #female reader #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #call of duty #ghost call of duty

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