why can't you say

sfw @ main

[2-hy]

busy crying over spilled milk

[2-hy]

please, mr ashveil!

when you approach ashveil for a particular favour along with the promise of generous pay—it's a win-win situation for him: he gets to pay his monthly rent and fuck a beautiful girl.

wc: 1.2k, x f!reader, squirting, a bit of voyeurism (u don't get caught), he's lowk a tease, p in v, creampie, pwp. ib this voiceline "if you ever need anything done, just hit me up! i'm flexible on the price.”

tldr -> basically u n ashveil doing it in his office.

ashveil is more than happy to fulfill your service of course, especially for a sweet thing like you. 

his cramped office is less than the ideal place to have sex, but who are you to complain when his thick cock is rubbing back and forth on your folds, teasing it like a sly wolf toying with his prey?

your thighs, surprisingly pliable, are lifted high, hooked over his arms as his bare chest presses to your back, the rough texture of his skin a delicious contrast to your own.

a soft, involuntary squelch accompanies each slow drag of his cock against your cunt. perhaps it's the lack of experience, or the illicit thrill; but you're already wet, dripping even. 

it was a strange, exhilarating surrender, your body instinctively arches backward, leaving yourself completely dependent on his strength.

he continues the slow, torturous rhythm. “please, mr ashveil,” you whimper, a breathless sound catching in your throat. “i-i can’t do this anymore…” 

"can't you?" he slurs with that sultry voice of his. "or won't you? hm?” 

“beg for it, darling. beg for what you really want."

his grip tightens around your thighs, pulling you closer, the pressure firm enough to make your breath hitch. “come on, use your words,” he coaxes. 

"fuck—” you gasp, your hands clutching at him. "i want...i want you inside. n—need more of you!”

a quiet, satisfied hum leaves him, like he’s been waiting to hear that.

“yeah?” he teases, letting the anticipation coil tighter and tighter between you. “that what you really want?”

you nod helplessly. he’s so mean, the head of his cock still teasing your entrance like there's no tomorrow. 

“wanna fuck you so bad too, sweet thing.” he brushes a slow kiss along your neck, his hair grazing your skin and sending a soft shiver down your spine.

“please mr ashveil, f—fill me up…!”

that’s all it takes.

with a sudden, powerful thrust, he finally plunges into you. a deep, satisfying splurch sounds out as your bodies meet. eliciting a long, drawn-out moan from your lips. 

you can feel his hot breath fanning over your cheeks as your head tilts back against his shoulder, his thick length stretching you oh-so-perfectly. 

“shit,” he hisses. “your tight little cunt’s suckin’ me in.”

a sudden knock at the door jolts you both—your body spasms around him in surprise; he lets out a sharp groan at the sudden clench of your pussy.

“you're on full display f’me like a perfect little slut, yeah?” he murmurs. “anyone opens that door, they’ll see exactly who owns this pussy.”

and he’s right. if someone walks in, they'll be greeted with the most perfect sight of ur greedy cunt swallowing down his cock.

“ashveil?” a voice calls from outside.

his jaw clenches. he can feel how wet and hot you are wrapped around him—the pulse of your arousal only making it harder to think straight.

“are you there?”

“im busy, come back later.” he answers curtly, unapologetically turning away the visitor.

yet the interruption only seems to fuel him. 

he manhandles you—lifting your body slightly off his cock before repositioning both your thighs and hooking them securely across his right forearm. your legs dangle helplessly over his forearm, hips angled at his mercy.

“ah…!” you gasp as he drives back into you with a sudden thrust. it’s almost like he did that because he wants to hear you unravel in his arms. 

the cruel and mean detective then slides his free hand down to your clit, circling small strokes over your swollen bud. his touch is electric, relentless, turning your whimpers into desperate moans as he works you just right.

“you’re so sensitive,” he growls in your ear.

“but sir! it’s a new commission!” the voice insists from outside.

you’re absolutely mortified; so full of him, clinging and clenching as he pinches that sensitive nub hard. pleasure shoots through you like lightning as you gasp, body trembling around his cock.

“i said not now,” ashveil snaps—and finally, silence falls on the other side of the door.

it’s quiet again. except for the wet slap of skin on skin…  the filthy rhythm of you being taken apart piece by piece…  

you feel so lewd, the dirty squelching echoing off the walls of his office making you even more shamelessly wet. 

your pussy clenches violently, pulsing as you gush over him, squirting your liquid all over; coating his thighs, dripping onto the floor… some even arcing up to stain his bulletin board. his "self portrait" is soaked in your essence now—ruined by your pleasure.

and still, he doesn’t stop. his hand stays between your legs, gently rubbing circles over your swollen clit through the aftershocks.

“haaah… yeah, that’s it sweetheart. your pussy’s leakin’ all over me.”

your pussy is still fluttering from the intense pleasure when he suddenly pulls out, leaving you feeling empty. 

you whimper, the sudden emptiness making you ache—only for it to vanish a heartbeat later as he presses you down onto his desk, papers sliding everywhere and pens clattering to the floor,  but neither of you care.

in one smooth thrust, he’s back inside, grunting at your tight heat adjusting to his girth again.

you try to keep your legs open for him like a good girl, but they tremble too hard to stay apart. with no patience left, he can't help but exert a bit more control, forcing them wider apart to accommodate his size. 

overstimulated and raw from the high just moments ago, you squirm helplessly beneath him.

“t-too much! mr ashveil—it’s too much!”  

he smirks down at you, sweat-damp hair falling over his brow. 

“too much? weren’t you begging for me to ‘fill you up’ earlier?”

he turns up the pace—deep thrusts that make your breasts bounce with each snap of his hips. one particularly rough thrust makes you cry out and rake your nails down his back, leaving red trails.

his mouth latches onto one of your nipples in response, sucking hard while his fingers twist and pull at the other. his tongue swirls tight circles around the peak before biting down just enough to make you yelp. 

“drench my cock more, c’mon darling i know you got it.”

as if his words were law, the coil inside you snaps a second time. you see stars while your walls clench around him as another wave crashes through. 

and just like that, he’s coming too—hot and pulsing deep inside as he fills you up to the brim.

you milk him greedily with every flutter of your pussy until white ropes begin to seep from your swollen slit, dripping slowly down the curve of your ass… and onto the scattered papers beneath.

eventually, your breathing returns to normal. he pulls out—his eyes dropping to the evidence of your activities slowly leaking out onto the desk, making a mess on the floor.

“i hope you realize,” he says, voice low, “you just cost me a very important commission.”

you blink up at him, still disoriented—wondering what he's getting at. 

"surely, you'll come back to make up for it, right?"

you can only offer a meek nod at his suggestive words.

(you’ll definitely be visiting the ashen detective agency often now that your pussy craves the satisfaction of being completely filled up and claimed by him.)

on everyone's life we all goon to ashveil.

[2-hy]

please, mr ashveil!

when you approach ashveil for a particular favour along with the promise of generous pay—it's a win-win situation for him: he gets to pay his monthly rent and fuck a beautiful girl.

wc: 1.2k, x f!reader, squirting, a bit of exhibitionism (u don't get caught), he's lowk a tease, p in v, creampie, pwp. ib this voiceline "if you ever need anything done, just hit me up! i'm flexible on the price.”

tldr -> basically u n ashveil doing it in his office.

ashveil is more than happy to fulfill your service of course, especially for a sweet thing like you. 

his cramped office is less than the ideal place to have sex, but who are you to complain when his thick cock is rubbing back and forth on your folds, teasing it like a sly wolf toying with his prey?

your thighs, surprisingly pliable, are lifted high, hooked over his arms as his bare chest presses to your back, the rough texture of his skin a delicious contrast to your own.

a soft, involuntary squelch accompanies each slow drag of his cock against your cunt. perhaps it's the lack of experience, or the illicit thrill; but you're already wet, dripping even. 

it was a strange, exhilarating surrender, your body instinctively arches backward, leaving yourself completely dependent on his strength.

he continues the slow, torturous rhythm. “please, mr ashveil,” you whimper, a breathless sound catching in your throat. “i-i can’t do this anymore…” 

"can't you?" he slurs with that sultry voice of his. "or won't you? hm?” 

“beg for it, darling. beg for what you really want."

his grip tightens around your thighs, pulling you closer, the pressure firm enough to make your breath hitch. “come on, use your words,” he coaxes. 

"fuck—” you gasp, your hands clutching at him. "i want...i want you inside. n—need more of you!”

a quiet, satisfied hum leaves him, like he’s been waiting to hear that.

“yeah?” he teases, letting the anticipation coil tighter and tighter between you. “that what you really want?”

you nod helplessly. he’s so mean, the head of his cock still teasing your entrance like there's no tomorrow. 

“wanna fuck you so bad too, sweet thing.” he brushes a slow kiss along your neck, his hair grazing your skin and sending a soft shiver down your spine.

“please mr ashveil, f—fill me up…!”

that’s all it takes.

with a sudden, powerful thrust, he finally plunges into you. a deep, satisfying splurch sounds out as your bodies meet. eliciting a long, drawn-out moan from your lips. 

you can feel his hot breath fanning over your cheeks as your head tilts back against his shoulder, his thick length stretching you oh-so-perfectly. 

“shit,” he hisses. “your tight little cunt’s suckin’ me in.”

a sudden knock at the door jolts you both—your body spasms around him in surprise; he lets out a sharp groan at the sudden clench of your pussy.

“you're on full display f’me like a perfect little slut, yeah?” he murmurs. “anyone opens that door, they’ll see exactly who owns this pussy.”

and he’s right. if someone walks in, they'll be greeted with the most perfect sight of ur greedy cunt swallowing down his cock.

“ashveil?” a voice calls from outside.

his jaw clenches. he can feel how wet and hot you are wrapped around him—the pulse of your arousal only making it harder to think straight.

“are you there?”

“im busy, come back later.” he answers curtly, unapologetically turning away the visitor.

yet the interruption only seems to fuel him. 

he manhandles you—lifting your body slightly off his cock before repositioning both your thighs and hooking them securely across his right forearm. your legs dangle helplessly over his forearm, hips angled at his mercy.

“ah…!” you gasp as he drives back into you with a sudden thrust. it’s almost like he did that because he wants to hear you unravel in his arms. 

the cruel and mean detective then slides his free hand down to your clit, circling small strokes over your swollen bud. his touch is electric, relentless, turning your whimpers into desperate moans as he works you just right.

“you’re so sensitive,” he growls in your ear.

“but sir! it’s a new commission!” the voice insists from outside.

you’re absolutely mortified; so full of him, clinging and clenching as he pinches that sensitive nub hard. pleasure shoots through you like lightning as you gasp, body trembling around his cock.

“i said not now,” ashveil snaps—and finally, silence falls on the other side of the door.

it’s quiet again. except for the wet slap of skin on skin…  the filthy rhythm of you being taken apart piece by piece…  

you feel so lewd, the dirty squelching echoing off the walls of his office making you even more shamelessly wet. 

your pussy clenches violently, pulsing as you gush over him, squirting your liquid all over; coating his thighs, dripping onto the floor… some even arcing up to stain his bulletin board. his "self portrait" is soaked in your essence now—ruined by your pleasure.

and still, he doesn’t stop. his hand stays between your legs, gently rubbing circles over your swollen clit through the aftershocks.

“haaah… yeah, that’s it sweetheart. your pussy’s leakin’ all over me.”

your pussy is still fluttering from the intense pleasure when he suddenly pulls out, leaving you feeling empty. 

you whimper, the sudden emptiness making you ache—only for it to vanish a heartbeat later as he presses you down onto his desk, papers sliding everywhere and pens clattering to the floor,  but neither of you care.

in one smooth thrust, he’s back inside, grunting at your tight heat adjusting to his girth again.

you try to keep your legs open for him like a good girl, but they tremble too hard to stay apart. with no patience left, he can't help but exert a bit more control, forcing them wider apart to accommodate his size. 

overstimulated and raw from the high just moments ago, you squirm helplessly beneath him.

“t-too much! mr ashveil—it’s too much!”  

he smirks down at you, sweat-damp hair falling over his brow. 

“too much? weren’t you begging for me to ‘fill you up’ earlier?”

he turns up the pace—deep thrusts that make your breasts bounce with each snap of his hips. one particularly rough thrust makes you cry out and rake your nails down his back, leaving red trails.

his mouth latches onto one of your nipples in response, sucking hard while his fingers twist and pull at the other. his tongue swirls tight circles around the peak before biting down just enough to make you yelp. 

“drench my cock more, c’mon darling i know you got it.”

as if his words were law, the coil inside you snaps a second time. you see stars while your walls clench around him as another wave crashes through. 

and just like that, he’s coming too—hot and pulsing deep inside as he fills you up to the brim.

you milk him greedily with every flutter of your pussy until white ropes begin to seep from your swollen slit, dripping slowly down the curve of your ass… and onto the scattered papers beneath.

eventually, your breathing returns to normal. he pulls out—his eyes dropping to the evidence of your activities slowly leaking out onto the desk, making a mess on the floor.

“i hope you realize,” he says, voice low, “you just cost me a very important commission.”

you blink up at him, still disoriented—wondering what he's getting at. 

"surely, you'll come back to make up for it, right?"

you can only offer a meek nod at his suggestive words.

(you’ll definitely be visiting the ashen detective agency often now that your pussy craves the satisfaction of being completely filled up and claimed by him.)

on everyone's life we all goon to ashveil.