Word Count: 1.8k
Pairing: Corbeau x Fem Reader
Content: Explicit Sexual Content, NSFW, manhandling, hair pulling
Summary: You interrupt Corbeau 3 different times while he's working, and how he reacts depends on his mood that day.
Comfortable
“Are you almost done?”
Corbeau felt his eye twitch. He lifted his gaze from his laptop, looking over at where you were lying on the couch. You were lying back, staring up at the ceiling with your legs crossed over one another.
At your question, he shook his head, even though you weren’t looking at him. “Asking me again won’t make me work any faster.”
You groaned in annoyance, dragging out your words dramatically. “You said you’d be done hours ago, and I’m tired.”
“You can go home! I’m not keeping you prisoner over here.” He immediately regretted how sharp he sounded. He watched you shift, shoulders stiffening a bit, but you didn’t get up to move. Stubborn. He knew you wouldn’t be going home until he went with you.
He glared down at the laptop and paperwork on his desk - now no longer work, but an annoying obstacle that was preventing him from going home with his partner. He was so, so close to being done, but it couldn’t wait until morning. He sighed quietly and lifted a hand to rub at his eyes under his glasses.
The tense silence stretched in the room until he broke it.
“Hey.” Corbeau’s voice was lower now as he called out to you. More gentle. A tone that you knew needed a response. When you twisted your head to look up from your place on the couch, you saw he was holding an arm out to you, motioning for you to join him at his chair.
Swinging your legs over the edge of the couch, you slowly stood and made your way over to him, taking in his appearance. He looked just as tired as you. His jacket was off and draped over the back of his chair, and the sleeves of his purple shirt were rolled to his elbows. His eyes were a bit droopy, lacking some of the sharpness they usually held. There was a slight slouch in his posture, very much not like his usual demeanor.
When you paused at the edge of his desk, he gave you an even more tired look and waved his hand again, wanting you closer. “What do you think this is? Come here, all the way.”
You did, stopping right at the edge of his chair. Wrapping his right arm around your waist, he guided you in front of him before tugging you down onto his lap. You sucked in a breath when he hooked his left hand around your knees, maneuvering you to sit sideways on him.
His right hand then moved from your waist to rest on your head near your temple, guiding you down to rest on his shoulder. Your brows pinched together, mostly in confusion, but you let him without resistance. He turned his head to press a soft, fleeting kiss to your lips, and then he was then already back to working. You could tell by the sound of his pen moving across the paper and the occasional clicks of the keyboard.
“What brought this on?” you mumbled, looking up at his side profile. The lines under his eyes seemed more prominent than usual.
“My lap was cold.” A decent lie, since he does get cold very easily. It could have been true, if the heater wasn’t blasting and he wasn’t jacketless.
You pressed a soft kiss to his neck. “You can just say you were lonely, too.”
You could have sworn you felt him shudder, but his voice was still even. “I’m doing this for your benefit.”
“Are you? I thought your lap was cold?” You started to lift your head to look at him, amused, but he quickly moved to keep you in place, gently pushing your head back into the crook of his neck.
“Do I really need a reason? You were already falling asleep on the couch,” he explained, in a tired tone that left no more room for debate. “Just fall asleep here instead. Don’t be stubborn.”
Huffing out a little sigh, you conceded and nuzzled yourself further into his shoulder. His shirt collar smelled like his cologne; fresh, slightly spiced, with something deep and warm underneath. There was also a lingering hint of cigarettes, as was the norm for him. You took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent, and felt yourself drifting off, body deflating as you exhaled slowly.
When you finally dozed off, you couldn’t see the soft smile he gave you. His finger tips brushed over your temple, his lips ghosting over your cheek as he whispered out a quiet, “Good girl.”
Playful
“Corbeau?”
“Yes, angel?”
“Are you almost done?”
“Why? You in a hurry or something?” Corbeau’s tone was light and teasing today. It was still early in the afternoon, no sign of the previously overworked syndicate boss from earlier in the week.
You pursed your lips, considering your options, before you slowly made your way around the desk to him. He looked up at you curiously, but didn’t say anything as you wedged yourself between him and his work. He just leaned back to give you space, eyes widening the slightest bit as you brought one of your knees up onto the chair, sliding against the outside of his leg. Your other foot stayed on the ground, leaning over him, but not settling down onto his lap.
“You know…” he started, a smirk creeping up onto his face as one of his hands slid up and over your hip. “...interrupting me isn’t going to make me go any faster.”
“Feel like I’ve heard that before,” you mused, sliding your hands up his arms and settling on his shoulders. You started to lean down, and his eyes immediately flicked to your mouth.
“Something like that,” he teased, leaning up to meet your waiting lips.
Seemingly satisfied, you promptly stood up and started walking away, your lips never reaching his. “Silly me, I know you’re busy. I’ll let you work, Beau.”
He was completely frozen, hand still in the air where it had been on your hip. When you turned around mid-step, his eyes were like fire, watching your every move. He was trying to stop it, but a smile was twitching at the corners of his mouth, and he lifted a hand to curl one finger towards himself. “Get. Your ass. Back here.”
You stopped on the other side of the desk, planting your hands on the wood surface and leaning forward. “Make. Me.”
He was out of his chair in a second, darting around the desk to chase after you as you bolted away.
It wasn’t much of a chase. He caught you by the couches, wrapping his arms around you from behind to keep you from running. Giggles and playful shrieks filled the huge room as he spun you around, his hands eventually finding a hold on both of your wrists together in front of you. Collapsing back onto the couch, he pulled you down with him, making you straddle his lap properly this time.
He was breathing heavily from the unexpected exertion, glasses askew, but a soft laugh still tumbled out as he smiled up at you.“You’re a fucking menace, you know that?”
You leaned forward to kiss the tip of his nose. “Might I remind you that you chased me. Who knew the big bad Rust Syndicate leader had such a playful side.” His face suddenly softened, and you tilted your head, questioning. “What?”
A full smile broke out across his face, and he leaned forward to kiss you. It was chaste and sweet. A bit different from his usual ones, but no less capable of stealing your breath away.
When he pulled away, his voice came out quiet, like a confession he wasn’t quite ready for. “I… didn’t know I had a side like this until you came around.”
Sinful
“A-Are you almost done?”
“Not even close.”
“Beau, let’s be reasonable-”
“I think I’m being perfectly reasonable.” His tone was perfectly mocking. He was resting his chin on your shoulder, looking down at his desk, but he paused to give your jaw a gentle nip. His breath was hot against the side of your neck. “You wanted me, you got me. Is this not good enough?”
His left hand was still busy scribbling away at a paper on his desk. What it said, you had no hope of deciphering in your current state of mind. His right hand was under your shirt, cold palm pressing against your lower stomach.
“This isn’t what I meant and you know it.” Your voice was strained, breath growing ragged and face burning from the situation you were in.
You were sitting on his lap, once again, but facing away from him this time. Your underwear had been pulled to the side under the skirt he had asked you to wear that morning. In fact, the fabric had been pulled aside to make room for his hard cock to be buried inside of you, where it had been for the last twenty minutes.
Twenty. Torturous. Minutes.
At this point, you knew it was a battle of wills. As calm as he was making himself appear, you could feel him twitching inside of you every once in a while, and his shifting had become far more frequent as the minutes had passed. Every shift made him drag against your walls, just barely, sending tiny little sparks through your core that were just not enough.
You couldn’t help but squirm on his lap, feeling an uncomfortable wetness that was surely ruining his slacks. “Beau, come on-!“
His hand curled through your hair, tugging your head to the side to bare your neck to him. You shuddered as his teeth dragged over your skin right where your shoulder met your neck, feather light, and his voice was rough. “You can do better than that, angel.”
You swallowed hard, a whimper escaping your lips as you tried to find the words. He had to be close to losing it, surely. Another twitch of his cock inside of you made you beg. “Please! Please move, Beau, I need it!”
There was a pause. A growl as he exhaled. Then, he was standing, pushing you forward against the desk. Your hands tried to find purchase on the surface, looking for any kind of leverage, but you just found paper. The paperwork slid under your hands, making you unable to hold yourself up as your face pressed into the hard wood.
He remained snug inside of you, pressing one hand against your spine to pin you down. His other hand returned to your hair, twisting into a tight grip near the base of your skull, and tugging while he slowly pulled out of you.
“This is what you get for interrupting me, again.” His hips snapped back into yours once, making you gasp.
Twice, and you whined.
Then, he didn’t stop.
The tops of your thighs would be bruised from pressing into the edge of the desk. Your scalp would be sore from where he was holding you so tightly, pressing your face against the wood. None of it mattered while your legs were shaking, your toes curling as he rutted into you over and over again.
If anything, now you wanted to bother him at work even more.
here’s a megaman x reader i’ve been working on! it’s X/Zero x Reader ! this goes out to all my homies with period pains :o
—————————
The room was stuffy. The lights were off, and I was under the weighted blanket that was on my bed. The blanket hugged me as a curled into a fetal position.
The cramps were nearly unbearable.
I winced, huffing loudly and shutting my eyes tightly.
I had my phone in my hand, and I squeezed it, almost as hard as I could. I thought it was going to shatter in my hands. The pain surged through my entire body. Fuck my uterus.
I took a breath and tried to keep my focus on my phone, I had been trying to watch Netflix to distract myself from the immense pain.
There was a soft knock at my door. I didn't budge. The person who was at the door could come in and kill me for all I care. Put me out of my misery.
"Y/N?" A voice quietly called into my room, opening the door just a bit as if to peek inside. I grumbled. "Go awayyyy."
The person stepped inside the doorway and clicked on a lamp that was near my bedside. I could feel a body sit on the side of my bed, and then a hand was placed on my head.
The hand felt my head for a few seconds, "Oh, sorry, that's your head." The male said, taking his hand off of my head and moving it to my shoulder.
I poked my head out of the blanket.
"X," I whined, looking at the reploid. He looked down at me, trying to smile.
"Alia told me that you weren't feeling well. So I researched ways to make humans feel better when they are, uh, not feeling good." He said, his face flushing slightly.
With that, X pulled out a box of chocolates from behind his back. I felt my eyes glimmer.
But that wasn't all. I sat up, despite the crippling pain in my lower abdomen. I took the chocolates carefully, and looked down at them. I didn't even notice that the blue hunter had also pulled out a small bouquet of flowers.
"Here. I know this isn't much but-"
I interrupted him, "X, thank you so much." I said. X smiled at me, scratching the back to his neck. He let out a small, nervous laugh.
"Heh, it's no problem." He said, nervously smiling. "Oh! I almost forgot." He then pulled out a small bottle of painkillers.
"Cinnamon said that you can take these." He said, handing you the bottle carefully. I nodded.
I smiled, "Thank you," I said, quickly opening the bottle and taking two pills out of them. X handed me the water that was sitting on my bedside table. I took the pills gratefully, hoping that they would soon kick in.
X nodded and smiled slightly. "It's no problem." He said, taking the pill bottle and the glass of water from me and putting it back on the tabletop.
I smiled as best I could, despite the pain, and curled back into my fetal position. X pulled the covers over me.
"Are you alright? Are you cold?"
"Mhmm," I hummed, closing my eyes. I was still in crippling pain. And I was cold.
"Are they alright?" Another voice chimed in from the doorway.
"They're cold, and they look like they're in pain too," X replied, and we both listened to the footsteps that entered my room.
I could see Zero standing at my bedside, behind X, who sat on the side of the bed.
I shut my eyes again.
Zero sighed. "Y/N, do you need another blanket?"
I shook my head. X and Zero looked at each other.
"Are you sure?" X asked again. I didn't want to trouble them.
"I'm okay," I muttered, loud enough for them to hear. I could hear that Zero got closer to me.
"I'm sorry you're feeling this way." Zero said, putting his hands on his hips. All I could do was moan out softly in pain.
X put his hand on my forehead. I tried to focus on his hand, rather than the pain in my abdomen. It was hard.
I curled up tighter into my fetal position.
X sighed and rubbed my forehead with his thumb, caressing in between my eyebrows with his thumb. It soothed me a little.
"Do you want us to leave? Or stay? Can we get you anything?" X asked, "I understand if you want some alone time."
I shook my head, grumbling under my breath. I then huffed. "No... Just stay."
X kept caressing my forehead. I tried to close my eyes.
"Get some rest, (Y/N)." Zero softly said. It was nice to see his soft side. "Your body needs it."
I was in so much pain that I thought it was impossible to do so, but I shut my eyes and nodded. I tried to sleep.
They stayed in silence. X was still softly rubbing my forehead with his thumb, and Zero quietly stood by my bedside, hushing whoever walked near my door.
Hi yes hello idk if you're taking writing requests or not but if you are I want you to please imagine reader showing up to their boy's (and/or Griselle's) place, hearing the shower running. Cool, reader can chill until they're done.
But then reader hears moaning. They're *jerking off* in the shower.
Maybe reader decides to get closer and listen to them... maybe reader risks taking a peek... maybe reader gets caught peeking, or maybe their s/o is none the wiser.
If you're not currently taking requests please feel free to enjoy the concept if you wish and I hope you have a great day 💜
Word Count: 2.4k
Content: Voyeurism, Explicit Sexual Content, Fem reader, NSFW
Summary: Catching your SO having a good time in the shower, featuring Corbeau, Ivor, AND Grisham (Separately)
So, I do want to be up front that I don’t normally take requests. Not because I don’t want to, I just don’t have the bandwidth for them 99% of the time and I feel bad when I can’t fulfill them.
HOWEVER, evidently I can be persuaded with the right inspiration because this, my dear anon, inspired the fuck out of me. Totally derailed me from my other projects lmao. Thank you so much for sending this to my inbox, and for being so polite and sweet 🫶🏻
I hope you enjoy~
Corbeau 💜
You didn’t see Corbeau upon entering his penthouse, but this wasn’t uncommon. His flat was huge, and he could have been in any number of rooms. You checked his office first, but it was also empty. Next, his bedroom. He wasn’t there, but there was a new set of clothes laid out on the bed. Then, you could hear the running shower, and it was easy to tell where he was.
You started to get comfy, planning to wait for him, when you heard a muffled sound through the bathroom door. Curiosity getting the better of you, you crept forward and pressed your ear against the door. It was silent, aside from the sound of running water. Just as you were about to pull back, however, you heard it again; a quiet moan.
Heat flooded your face, and the rest of your body, when you realized what he was doing. You shouldn’t have peeked. You should have been good and waited for him to be done. But, you didn’t, slowly twisting the doorknob and pushing the door to hopefully not make any noise. You just barely stuck your head inside, trying to get a glimpse of what you were hearing.
Corbeau’s bathroom didn’t have a shower curtain. It was a fancy, open-concept shower set back into one side of the room. So, you could see everything. He had one hand braced on the wall, leaning forward a bit. His other hand was on himself, moving in slow, twisting strokes.
His face was flushed, mouth open and panting, and his eyes were closed as he jerked himself off. He was close, you could tell just by his body language. His shoulders were tense, muscles moving under his tattoos as he shifted uncomfortably. You didn’t even realize you had gasped when he cursed and moaned out your name.
His hand stopped, and your eyes flicked up to his face. Piercing gold eyes were looking back, glaring just slightly without his glasses helping him. You had been caught, and you didn’t know what to say.
You didn’t need to say anything, thankfully. His hand left his cock to curl his index finger towards himself, beckoning you towards him. You almost missed what he said while you watched his length twitch. “You want a peek so bad, sunshine? Get over here. Now.” He was trying to sound commanding, but couldn’t help but notice that he sounded wrecked.
You still obeyed, shedding clothes across the bathroom as you made your way towards him.
“Can’t even take a shower in peace,” he complained, without any real annoyance as he pressed you back against the cold stone tile as soon as he had his hands on you. It was a stark difference from his heated body pressing against your front.
He captured you in a bruising kiss, and you moaned into each other’s mouths at the feeling of him sliding against you. You adjusted your legs just enough for him to slide the tip of his cock between your thighs, and he didn’t waste any time before thrusting shallowly against your clit.
“Fuck, did you get that wet just spying on me?” He teased, grinning against your lips as he pressed himself harder against you. He was fully fucking your thighs already, each pass grazing your clit and entrance but never dipping inside.
“Maybe I was already wet for you,” you teased back, satisfied when he groaned and pressed his face into your neck. His hips moved faster, angling to press harder against your clit as he started pressing wet kisses over your shoulder and neck. He was already so close, so worked up, that it didn’t take long for him to come. He bit down on your shoulder as he groaned, pulling back to spill down the front of your thighs.
He hadn’t even caught his breath before he dropped to his knees. Your hands flew to his head, half out of surprise and half for balance, when he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder. “What are you-?”
“I’m not fucking done,” he interrupted, matter-a-factly, as he pressed the tip of his tongue to your already sensitive clit. There would be all the time in the world to clean-up once he finally was done.
Ivor 💛
Ivor’s apartment was simple, but had a large open floor-plan with high ceilings on the top floor of the building. A necessary find for his stature, and it suited him well.
One step into the apartment told you what he was doing. You could hear his shower running, but you could easily hear his voice over the spray. Loud, breathy moans and exclamations filled the air. Curiosity and excitement filled you immediately, because he never took care of himself, so to speak. He had told you once that it just wasn’t something he typically thought about unless you were near him.
You didn’t hesitate to knock on the bathroom door, quietly calling his name. You heard him let out something between a yelp and a moan before he answered back. “D-Darling! I didn’t know you’d be here so soon! I’ll be just a… moment…”
You bit your lip, trying not to giggle as you heard him shuffling, and grumble when something fell to the ground. “No need to rush, Ivy! Actually, would you like some help?”
You could hear him sputter a bit before he finally groaned out a quiet “please.” You were shedding your clothes before you even finished opening the bathroom door. Pants were stepped out of as you walked, shirt tossed away to the side shortly after, fully naked by the time you reached him.
His apartment had a tall, wide shower stall with no tub. It fit him as well as it reasonably could, but he could still see over the shower curtain, and he had to bend down to wash his hair. You could see him smiling shyly over the top of the curtain, and he opened it up for you as you approached. His skin was flushed from his face to the top of his chest, but your eyes shot straight down. He looked painfully hard, red and nearly purple at the tip.
It twitched against his abs as you stepped into the shower with him, and his hands found your back. You ran your hands over his chest and stomach, looking up at him with curious eyes as the warm water sprayed over you. You opened your mouth to ask what got him so worked up, but he spoke first.
“I couldn’t do it without you,” he blurted out. At your confused face, he kept going. “I just… couldn't stop thinking about you, I couldn’t calm down. Yet, when I tried to… I couldn’t…” He gestured at his problem before returning his hand to your back, gently stroking from mid-back to shoulder.
“You couldn’t come without me,” you finished for him, leaning into his calloused, but gentle, touch. He nodded as he pulled you a bit closer to him, and you pressed a few chaste kisses to his pecs. “Oh, my poor man, must have been going crazy.”
“Yes,” he already sounded breathy just from the little touch. Pressing closer to him, you felt his dick jump against your stomach, and he groaned quietly above you. “I needed you.”
“It’s okay, I’m here to help now, honey. But…” You slid your hand down his abs, gently curling your fingers around his length. His stomach flexed and he inhaled sharply as you started stroking him painfully slowly. “...will you do something for me?”
“Anything!” His response was instant.
You smiled before sliding to your knees on the shower floor. He adjusted the shower head for you, making sure it wasn’t spraying onto your face. He stared down at you with wide, but excited, eyes as he waited for you to continue. You pressed a too chaste kiss to the tip of his cock before giving him your request. “Tell me what you were thinking about while you were trying to jerk off. What couldn’t you stop thinking about?”
He opened his mouth to answer, but all that came out was a groan as you wrapped your lips around him and bobbed down. His heavy hand found the top of your head, and just rested there. Not pushing, not gripping. Just steady and present as you slowly worked more and more of him into your mouth.
It was always a bit of a strain to your jaw with how thick he was, but thankfully it never took too terribly long in this position. You knew just how to work him up.
“I-I was…” He swallowed hard, resting his head back against the wall of the shower as he tried to make his brain work. You asked him for something so easy in exchange for something so wonderful, and he needed to do his part. “I was remembering how you looked yesterday morning. At the dojo, you were stretching… your shorts…!”
He trailed off, mouth falling open uselessly when your hand came up to wrap around what you couldn’t fit between your lips. He whined when you popped off of him, and you gave him a light scold. “Keep going, big guy. You can do it.”
“I wanted… I wanted to rip your shorts off of you,” he confessed, practically panting as he resisted the urge to thrust forward into your mouth. It only got harder to speak as you moved your hand and head faster. “I-It was uncouth of me, but I wanted to so badly…!”
He looked down at you when you tapped on his thigh, and that was it. The sight of you, wide eyed with your lips stretched around him, pushed him over the edge. He came with a choked moan of your name, unable to stop himself as his hips jerked forward.
You choked a bit at the sudden feeling of him spilling down your throat, having to pull off of him when it was too much. You kept working him with your hand instead, letting the last of it spurt onto your chest.
“I’m sorry,” he sighed, pulling you up to hold you against his chest once he could think again.
“Don’t you dare apologize.“ You smiled as he adjusted the shower head again, letting the warm water spray over you and clean you off. He smiled back, leaning down to finally kiss you.
“Then, thank you, my darling,” he murmured against your lips, wrapping his arms tightly around your back, engulfing you. “I’m so lucky to have you to take care of me.”
Grisham ❤️
You actually had a feeling you would catch him in the shower, just based on the time you made it to his apartment. He would have just barely gotten home after closing down the truck, and he always showered before doing anything else. He had told you that it helped him to wash off the day so he could properly relax.
He didn’t know you were coming, wanting to surprise him with dinner. You entered his studio apartment quietly, takeout in hand, but froze when you immediately heard him moan out your name. Then, you heard it again. And again.
His bathroom door was open–a precaution he usually took to avoid mold in the cheap, older apartment building. It meant you could hear every single moan and whine he was letting out. You had rarely ever heard him so vocal, and you could feel yourself growing wet just from the sound of his pleasure.
Peeking through the open bathroom door, you stifled a gasp. The shower was a small one, basically just a box with glass walls. It allowed you to perfectly see his silhouette, slumped back against the wall, head thrown back and fucking his own fist desperately. Moan after moan, mostly of your name, were barely being muffled by his other hand over his mouth.
He was completely in his own world, not noticing your presence at all as he chased his orgasm. His hand was meeting every thrust of his hips, making an absolutely obscenely wet smacking sound even louder than the shower.
Actually, you felt a little jealous. He was always so gentle with you. Couldn’t he fuck you as hard as he was fucking his hand? The idea of his hips doing that to you made your knees feel a little weak, heat flooding straight between your thighs.
You knew Grisham too well, and knew he’d be mortified if you interrupted him. As much as you wanted to, you would be patient and let him have his time. As quietly as possible, you crept back to the kitchen to set the takeout on the stove. Then, you made your way to his bedroom, making yourself comfortable on his bed.
It was a small apartment, and you could still hear him as you stripped out of your own clothes, intending to give him a different kind of surprise.
You could tell when he came, a loud moan fading quickly into silence. You waited, excitedly and impatiently, as you waited for the shower to turn off. When it did, you had the thought to warn him, so he wasn’t too surprised by your presence.
Wetting your lips, your heart was pounding as you called out. “Hey, Gris, I’m here. Just so you know.”
You heard something clatter to the ground, but he was silent. The whole apartment was deathly quiet until he slowly crept out of the bathroom, looking for you. “Dear, how long have you been here…?” His breath caught when he saw you lounging on his bed. His mouth fell open, his eyes half-lidded as they roved over naked form.
He was still naked himself as he stepped fully out of the bathroom. He had his towel around his shoulders, hair damp and dripping onto his chest and shoulders. He didn’t pay any mind to the water dripping off of his body, entranced as he crawled onto the bed towards you.
“Did you have a nice shower?” you teased, watching him flush with embarrassment, but it didn't stop him.
“Baby…” he breathed, looking up at you with questioning, pleading eyes. When you let your legs fall open, knowing exactly what he was asking for, he groaned at the sight of your glistening folds. You could literally see his cock twitching to life again already between his own legs. "What are you doing here?"
“I came over to surprise you with dinner,” you explained, legs opening more to accommodate his shoulders.
“You're too sweet, my love. May I have dessert first?” He begged, hands coming up to stroke over your inner thighs. When you nodded, he barely got out a quiet thank you before burying his face between your thighs. As he ate you out like a man starved, his own hips humping against the mattress as he pleasured you, you could swear that he was moaning louder than you were.
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(FYI Ill also be writing one for Griselle later 👀)
Sorry yall chapter 3 of Nouveau Feu will just be the slightest bit more delayed, but I’m dedicating the rest of my Sunday to it 🫶🏻
Word count: 1078
Pairing: Corbeau x Gender Neutral Reader
Content: Established relationship, fluff, allusions to sex and nudity but not explicit.
Summary: Taking a bath with Corbeau after he's done ravishing you
Your body was sore. Sore in all of the best possible ways, but sore nonetheless. You were lying facedown on a familiar, oversized bed. One that was far too empty at the moment. Still, the silk sheets beneath you felt wonderful even against your overheated, sticky skin, and you could feel sleep calling to you.
“Come on, angel. Get up.” Corbeau’s low voice suddenly filled your ears right before you felt his hands gently coaxing you out of your dazed, half-asleep state. You lifted your head an inch off of the bed and peeked one eye open to find him, still naked, trying to get you to sit up. The only thing he was wearing were his glasses, and his tattoos.
You sat up on your elbows, quickly waking up as you drank in the sight. He raised an amused eyebrow at you, but just continued coaxing you with his hands and whispering quiet praise until you were sitting on the edge of the bed. Now that you were in a better position, he bent his knees and hooked your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and wrapped his own arms under your thighs before lifting you off of the bed. You were always surprised at how easily he could lift you; man had a damn sleeper build.
“Now this is what I call special treatment,” you chuckled, nuzzling your face into his neck as he carried you. You pressed light kisses over the bite marks you had left on his shoulder not long before, some barely appearing as they bled into the ink trailing over his collarbones. Seeing the state you left him in, you know you must have looked 10 times worse. You hummed at the thought, lips not leaving his skin as you mumbled, “Hmm, where’re you taking me, Beau?”
“Where do you think?” You felt his hands twitch, squeezing your ass with each purposeful step he took.
“I don’t know, my eyes are closed.” They weren’t. They were watching your fingers trace along the edges of the colorful tattoo on the back of his shoulder. So beautiful, no matter how many times you saw them.
“It shouldn’t be hard to guess.” You could hear the eyeroll in his voice, and you bit your tongue to hold back your laughter.
By now, you had made it far enough through the penthouse to hear the distinct sound of a faucet running. You hummed in thought again, dragging out your words. “I’m going to guess… we’re taking a bath.”
You could feel the quiet laugh rumble in his chest from where you were pressed up against him. “Congratulations, very impressive deduction skills there.” He just chuckled more when you weakly smacked him on the shoulder.
Finally reaching the bathroom, Corbeau set you down right on the counter near the sink. You flinched and hissed at the cold marble touching your bare bottom, and he leaned up to give you a quick apology kiss before going to the tub to check the water temperature. Your eyes followed him, taking in the sight of his back muscles flexing beneath his arbok tattoo as he leaned down to turn off the facet, and further down.
Another much smaller tattoo caught your eye. Way further down, far away from the rest of his tattoos, a tiny little Venipede sat on his calf. His first tattoo, he had once told you, gotten back when he was broke and he first found his partner Scolipede. While not as fancy or detailed as his others, it was certainly the cutest.
Satisfied, he turned and gestured for you to join him. Your eyes snapped back up to his face, hands gripping the edge of the counter as you teased, “I have to walk now?”
He barked out a quick laugh at that, shaking his head incredulously before making his way over to you. His glasses were set aside on the counter as he slid his way in-between your knees, stealing a heated kiss before mumbling against your lips. “I’ve spoiled the hell out of you, haven’t I? Created a monster.”
“Mmhm, all your fault,” you agreed, grinning as you captured his lips in another kiss. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck as he lifted you again. He unfortunately had to break the kiss to make sure he didn’t slip, but soon you were both sliding down into the hot water. A groan ripped its way out of your throat at the feeling. It felt divine on your sore skin and muscles, exactly what you needed after all those hours of physical activity.
After a few extra kisses, you carefully turned in his arms until you were settled back against his chest. He started laying gentle pecks over your shoulder instead, hands sliding up and down your arms from shoulder to wrist. You took the initiative to reach for your body wash and washcloth, the pleasant scent filling the air as you began washing your arms. He immediately plucked the washcloth from your hands, taking it upon himself to gently run the cloth over your shoulders, back, and around to the front of your chest. You hummed in contentment, dropping your head back onto his shoulder as you enjoyed the feeling of his hands dutifully cleaning every inch of you.
Corbeau was also taking inventory of all of the new signatures he’d left on your pretty skin. Bite marks and hickies littered both sides of your neck and shoulders. Beneath the water, he knew that even more marks dotted your inner thighs, and your hips surely had red marks from where he had gripped them. Possessive thoughts swirled through his head, but they all culminated in a simple, “Mine.”
A smile grew across your lips as you felt something familiar begin poking into your lower back, and you pushed your hips back against it. He rewarded you with a quiet groan, so you did it again. “I thought the idea here was to get clean, Corbeau.”
His hands were now on your hips, washcloth set aside, and he pulled you back to grind against him. You could feel the sting of where he was gripping your already bruised skin. His lips went to your ear, biting the lobe gently before running his tongue over the shell. He smirked at the noise that pulled from you, breath hot against your neck even in the steaming bath as his hand made its way between your legs. “Who says we can’t do both?”
Almost made it a week without posting a Corbeau fic. Can't have that! This is going to be a series btw, I have similar ideas for several other characters. Either Ivor or Grisham will be posted next.
Inspired by redundantz Corbeau tat design! https://www.tumblr.com/redundantz/799214693170479104
Pairing: Corbeau x female reader
Warnings: Cursing, explicit sexual content, blow jobs, etc etc.
Word count: 1417
Summary: Corbeau is a pretty man with pretty tattoos that deserves to be worshipped
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It actually was a secret to most people that Corbeau was absolutely covered in tattoos. All of his colorful ink was carefully hidden beneath his high collar and full suit, rarely seeing the light of day for anyone except his tattoo artist. When you first met him, a tiny glimpse of red and black under his sleeve cuff caught your eye, but it was quickly covered before you could get a better look.
At the time, you couldn’t help but silently wonder how far the tattoos went up, but nothing could have prepared you for the full image.
Here, in an intimate moment that he would only ever share with you, you could see all of it; A pair of Scolipede curled over each of his shoulders and around his biceps, moving with the lean muscles that rippled under his skin. Blue and red flowers not unlike a Roserade’s were dotted along his ribs and forearms. Everything in between? A blackout with lines curling into rounded, poison drips across his chest and stomach. While you couldn’t currently see it, you knew that a beautiful, detailed Arbok covered almost his entire back. A bit of the blackout even trailed below his pant line, which never failed to tempt you lower.
You really didn’t know what you did in this life for Arceus to bless you with the sight in front of you. Corbeau was lying back against the pillows on his large bed, chest rising and falling with effort as he stared up at you. His lips were kiss-bitten, all red and puffy from the last 30 minutes of attention from you, and they were definitely only going to get worse. His hair was messy, his glasses were crooked on his face, and he was oh-so patiently waiting for your next move as you sat prettily on his lap. Both of you were just down to your underwear at this point, and the evening was just getting started.
The only part of his torso that wasn’t tattooed was a small strip of skin that ran all the way from his neck, between his pecs, and all the way down his stomach to his happy trail. It was a perfect little path for your lips.
Your hands were resting on his stomach on either side of his navel, and you slowly slid one palm up his torso. His muscles twitched under your touch, breathing deeply but not making a sound as he watched your painfully slow exploration.
You could have sworn you heard him swallow when you ran your fingertips, featherlight, over his right nipple, and he murmured, “You sure are taking your time tonight.”
“Can you blame me?” You chuckled, running your other hand up his side to trace the edges of his tattoo before bringing it up to meet his other pec. You dragged both hands up his chest, over his shoulders, towards the base of his throat, and back down to his ribs. He threw his head back into the pillows and inhaled sharply through his nose, but still didn’t grace you with a noise.
“I can, but I’m trying to be nice.” He didn’t look like it. He leaned up on his elbows, staring at you with narrowed golden eyes, and you couldn’t help but shiver under the look. He was watching your every move, and you could tell it was taking every bit of self control in him not to bite.
You wanted to roll your eyes at the hypocrisy. “You had me tied to this bed for hours yesterday, and you’re impatient after a few minutes?”
He had the audacity to smirk at the memory. “I didn’t hear you complaining.”
“You had me gagged, Beau. You want me to go get it?”
You couldn’t help but notice that his pupils widened a bit at the idea, but he shook his head slowly and settled back down onto the bed. Humming in contentment, you rewarded him by shifting your hips back a couple of inches, just barely ghosting yourself over his hard-on. The contact made him jolt and curse, and he hissed through his teeth, patience gone again, “If you don’t hurry, I’m going to flip you over and fucking-“
His words died in his throat when you finally dipped down to place a chaste kiss against his chest, between his pecs. Your lips slowly trailed lower over the unmarked trail of skin, tongue occasionally peeking out to trace along the edges of the tattoo on his stomach. You felt him shiver under your touch, and his right hand came up to curl through your hair, tightly. Another tell that you were really reaching the end of this short rope.
Amazingly, no tattoos down here. All of his ink sat above his waist. For the time being, at least. Hooking your thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, you quickly pulled them down enough for his cock to spring out against his stomach.
He finally gave you a noise, groaning out a quiet “Fuck” through his teeth when your lips finally wrapped around the tip of his dick. You hummed in happiness, pleased that you had gotten an audible reaction out of him, and the added sensation made him buck his hips upward. Hand still in your hair, he urged you lower.
You decided to be nice, dropping your head to take him in as far as you physically could, hands making up for anything you couldn’t take in your mouth. You knew he couldn’t take much teasing, (and any teasing you gave would be returned ten fold), so you started up a slow, but steady, pace, twisting your hand along his length as you took him into your mouth over and over.
After a couple of minutes, you shifted to look up at him through your lashes, moaning around his cock as you took in the sight. This beautiful man with beautiful tattoos, staring down at you with enough lust and affection to make your heart stop. His brows were pinched together, face twisted in pleasure while his pupils were blown wide with lust.
He was too far gone to be worried about his volume, moaning unabashedly when you locked eyes with him. His hand moved to the side of your face, “Fuck, look at you. You’re so good to me. You love this just as much as I do, don’t you, beautiful?”
As if he had to ask. You hummed out an affirmation, closing your eyes to focus on giving him as much pleasure as possible. Curses fell from his lips as his hand returned to your hair, matching your movements to fuck your mouth. He still managed to praise you between the curses, desperately whispering about how good you felt and how much of a good girl you were for him.
You could tell he was growing close as it got harder for him to speak, but he managed to ask, “Where?”
He borderline whined when you pulled off of him with a wet pop, simply saying, “in” before taking him all the way to the base. That was all it took. He groaned out your name, whole body tensing as he spilled down your throat. His hips gave a few final jolts before falling back against the bed, trying to catch his breath as you released him from your mouth and sat back on your heels.
You wiped the corner of your mouth with your thumb, smiling as you took in his flushed, disheveled appearance. His eyes snapped open when you leaned forward to run a hand up his chest, again, and you teased, “How was that?”
He lazily gestured to himself, knowing what he must look like. “You really have to ask?”
“No, but I’d like to hear it.” You blinked in surprise when his hand wrapped around your wrist, and he pulled you up the bed. The room spun as he flipped you over onto your back, stealing your breath away with a hard kiss.
His hands found each of yours, intertwining your fingers together and pinning them to the bed on either side of your head. You whimpered as his tongue slipped past your lips, devouring you like a man starving. When he pulled away, he was smirking again, and it made a shiver of anticipation run down your spine.
“It was amazing,” he finally answered, resting his forehead against yours as he stared into your eyes. “You’re amazing. Now, if you don’t mind, it’s my turn.”
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This pixel man has turned me into a heathen
This will probably get shadow banned but if anyone sees it, hi ❤️ also I tagged this wrong at first, my bad yall
Pairing: Volo x Fem Reader
Word Count: 3.9k
Warnings: 🔞 Explicit Sexual content, breaking and entering, hints of a God-Complex, obsessive/possessive/insane Volo, implied one-night stand, manhandling, dubious consent, choking 🔞
Summary: It's been 3 long years since you returned from Hisui back to your own time. You rebuilt your life, but a ghost returns to change everything again.
WELP. It's finally here y'all. I've been talking about this forever and I finally had the time to get it done.
A very happy belated birthday to @van1shiro 🥳 (I hope this isn’t too crazy XD). Volo anon, I know you've also been waiting for this so I hope I did him justice. This took many different forms and did not go the way I originally intended. Thank you @hakuaclovers for helping me brainstorm the direction and giving me some dialogue ideas for this 🫶🏻 Kino also has a delicious companion drawing here
As you can see from the warnings: this is darker than my other pieces so far. Please heed this warning. I can assume Volo fans know what they’re getting into, and there are definitely more extreme ones out there, but I still have to say it.
Without further ado, please enjoy my take on post-game Volo ✨
It started small. An uneasy feeling while walking down the street, one you had walked so many times before. The first day, you didn’t even really recognize it. You glanced back once or twice in between steps, but everyone else was seemingly minding their own business. Nothing strange, or out of the ordinary.
So, you rolled your shoulders out and continued, ignoring the hairs standing on the back of your neck as you made your way home.
The next day was the same. There was an odd unease – an anxiety settling deep in your bones as soon as you left your job and started your walk home. You wanted to discount it, ignore it. You wanted to tell yourself you were being paranoid.
But, these were instincts you had learned to trust. Sharpened by experiences left far behind in Hisui, from dangerous Alphas and, sometimes, even more dangerous people. Those instincts had kept you alive, but you weren’t in Hisui anymore.
You were turning a corner when you saw it. Him. Just a glimpse, just his back as he bobbed through a crowd, but him. Tall. Broad. A twist of blonde under a dark cap. Impossibly familiar.
A ghost. A dopperganger, it had to be. It couldn’t be-
Your legs were moving before you realized, following the fleeting glimpse of the tall figure as he turned a corner. A walk turned into a jog, and you very nearly crashed into someone as you rounded the building. The quickest apology left your lips as you looked around, scanning the street for the man that could not be there.
And he wasn’t. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, but your heartbeat didn’t calm. You turned, eyes lingering down the street before finally, slowly, resuming your walk home.
This was ridiculous. There was no way.
Your steps slowed to a stop as a creeping, quiet horror washed over you. A man cussed at you when he almost ran into your back, and he brushed past you roughly, but you barely felt it as your mind reeled. There was a way: the exact way you had gotten home in the first place.
It was unlikely, but it wasn’t impossible.
That new reality settled in you as you finished your walk home. Your hands were slightly shaky as you tried to unlock your front door, missing the lock the first time. There was a lump in your throat you couldn’t seem to swallow down as you tossed your keys to the side, shucking off your coat as you felt uncomfortably warm.
Your body was on pure auto-pilot as you went through your nightly routine.
Lying in bed that night, you remembered. Memories you hadn’t let yourself consider in quite some time. Memories of the many sides of Volo you had come to know before you left Hisui.
The kindly merchant that had a penchant for showing up at just the right time.
The friend that stood by your side when you had been cast out of the village.
The man that laid you underneath him for a single night of passion when you sought comfort.
The monster that had tried, and failed, to strike you down on the top of Mount Coronet.
Even after so much time, it was hard to reconcile all of those facets together. The man you thought knew, and the man that desired to destroy the world.
You turned over, heart and head both aching from the memories. However, you couldn’t stop your thoughts from drifting with you as you drifted off to sleep. As you did, it wasn’t the monster Volo haunting your thoughts; it was the merchant, the friend, and the lover.
A week passed, and the unease slowly settled, but barely. The paranoia was exhausting you, but you couldn’t quite shake it completely. It was another day of walking home, down the same familiar streets. Even stopping at the grocer to get ingredients for dinner, you were looking over your shoulder before paying.
Your hands weren’t shaking this time when you unlocked your front door, but something still made you pause before you pushed the door open. It opened slowly with its quiet, usual creak. The door shut, and the apartment was quiet. Normal. Dark. You locked the door behind you, set your groceries down, and tossed the keys onto the side table near the door.
The keys hadn’t even hit the wood before an arm wrapped around you from behind, holding both of your own arms down. An involuntary scream tried to rip from your throat, but another hand suddenly covering your mouth muffled it. Your body tried to thrash as panic swelled in your throat and chest, but the grip on your upper arm was hard, holding you back against a tall, broad figure with no room to move.
“Be quiet!” a horribly familiar voice hissed in your ear, tightening his grip on your face. Your eyes widened, whole body freezing and heart thudding in your chest as you listened to him. Memories flooded back once again, hitting you like a train as you struggled to accept the current situation.
It really was him. Volo was there. In the present. In your home. Cold fear flushed through you as you remembered every detail of the last time you had seen him, but your heart fluttered traitorously with something else.
“Are you going to scream again?” He whispered, and your body shuddered from both his voice and the brush of his lips against your ear. Your cheeks were hurting from his strong hold, his nails digging into your face, but he loosened it slightly when he felt you stop fighting.
You thought about it, and shook your head. The world spun, and then your back was being shoved hard against the wall. It knocked the air out of your lungs, giving him the opportunity to gather your wrists, crossed in one large hand. As he pinned your hands above your head, his other hand returned to your face, gripping your jaw painfully tight again as he tilted your head up.
Finally, your eyes reopened (you weren't sure when you had closed them), and there he was. He looked frighteningly close to the man in your memories. He hardly looked older at all, actually, and really just appeared more tired. And his eyes. Or eye, rather. The same dull gray, but with a pupil so wide in the low-light of the living room, it was almost black.
“You.” His grip tightened on your face as he leaned forward, gaze burning into yours. There was an intensity on his face that made something heavy settle over you. You couldn’t tell if he was furious, or excited, but he certainly looked triumphant. “Finally. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you?”
“You!” you spat right back without thinking, voice raw and shaky. His grip on your wrists didn’t budge as you tried to thrash, and an odd mixture of emotions was flooding through you. Relief that you weren’t going insane. Fear from the man holding you against your will. Something else you couldn’t hope to identify in your current state of mind, but you were warm. Uncomfortably warm. He was really there. “I knew it was you. I saw you on the street!”
“A sloppy performance on my part,” he admitted casually, face quickly twisting in a sneer when you tried to break out of his grip again. “Stop squirming!” he hissed, before trying to school his expression into something more pleasant. He tried to smile and soften his eyes, but there was nothing soft about his hands on you. “I’m not here to hurt you, dear.”
“You’re… not?” You decided not to bring up the stinging from how hard he was gripping you.
“Of course not. Why would I want to hurt an old friend?” He released your face just to stroke his knuckles over your cheek. His fingertips then took the place of his knuckles, and you winced when he pinched your cheek meanly, like he was cooing over a cute child. His voice was sickly sweet now, reminiscent of the very first version of him you knew. “If I wanted to, I already would have, you know.”
A fresh wave of fear washed over you, but it was tempered by confusion when he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His hand moved to rest mostly on the side of your neck, thumb stroking gently over your cheek as his fingers flexed over your pulse. A stark contrast to his other hand gripping your wrists together, still stuck to the wall over your head.
“You’re looking well,” he murmured, finally. He looked almost in awe, eye raking over your face like he was taking in every tiny detail, new and old. His thumb found the edge of your mouth, lingering there and tugging at your lower lip before moving back to your cheek. “Remarkably well. This future suits you.”
“I belong here,” you said, trying to tilt your face away from his touch. He didn’t seem to like that and grabbed your chin again, keeping you facing forward.
“You do,” he agreed, a bitter edge cutting through the sweetness of his voice. “Much more than I, I admit. I have been on quite the journey to find you, my dear.”
The name made your brow furrow, but you pushed through the surprise. You swallowed hard as you tried to find the words you wanted, hyper aware of the feeling of his fingers digging into your skin. “W-Why are you here? How did you…?”
“Those are two very different questions. How did I what? Are you asking how I got here? How do you think?”
“A wormhole? Did you somehow tear open another space-time rift? Giratina was with the Galaxy team…”
“You truly thought Giratina could be contained forever? Foolish. But, no, nothing so easy, or quick.” A frightening, wolfish grin came across his face, nose brushing against yours as he whispered, “I just lived.”
Your eyes widened, and he laughed. Positively giddy over the shock on your face as he explained, “It took a long time to realize what was happening to me. Birthdays came and went. I kept looking for grays, and wrinkles, but I was the same. Unchanged. I tried my damndest to figure out how, for a while, but I gave up a long time ago. I can only assume Arceus thought it a suitable punishment for me.”
He was rambling comfortably now. “Well, I assumed it was a punishment at first. Then, I came to realize it was a gift. I could travel, and learn, and continue working towards my goal. I told you, I’d spend centuries if I needed to, remember that? And then eventually, I thought how I might, somehow, find my way to you again. Some decades, I lost hope. Yet, I endured, and now…” he trailed off, and looked mentally far away for a moment before he refocused.
"The news reached me when you disappeared, you know. Hisui’s savor, gone in a blink. Sent back home by the same forces that brought you in the first place. It caused quite the stir and panic when you left... for everyone.”
“I thought I’d never see you again.” There was something unsteady in the way he was looking at you now. Something intense swirled in his gaze as he looked all over your face, a shaky breath leaving him as his eyes lingered on your lips.
He shook his head, seemingly to himself as he chuckled incredulously. “You took everything from me. My livelihood, my destiny, and then you.”
Your eyes widened at the implication, and you instinctively tried to defend yourself. “Volo-”
“You left me alone,” he continued, as though you hadn’t even spoken.
“Volo, I-”
“You ruined me.” His hand left your face to run down your side, following the shape of your waist, down to your hip. His gaze dropped with it, following the touch of his hand. The touch was soft, almost reverent if you could let yourself believe it. “And yet, despite everything you’ve done, I missed you,” he breathed, nose nudging yours as he moved impossibly closer.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting to touch your sweet body again? How many nights alone, without you… Thinking about this.” His fingers dug into your hip then–harsh, possessive, and borderline painful from the intensity of his grip. “Finally seeing you again, after so long… Oh, I missed you. I missed you…”
His words faded into a shaky breath as he finally closed the distance, claiming your mouth for himself. The sound that left him was nothing short of primal. Pure, absolute relief.
It had only been a handful of years since you’d last felt his lips on yours.
For him, it had been more than one lifetime.
That realization settled in you heavily as he kissed you with an uncharacteristic slowness. Or, uncharacteristic to the Volo you knew so long ago. You weren’t sure if he was savoring it, or just getting used to the movement again, but you didn’t kiss back. Not yet. Not while your mind was still catching up to the gravity of the moment.
This… didn’t feel like the monster from your last meeting. You tried to remind yourself that there was something unsteady in his gaze, a crazy look in his eye, that this man was dangerous, but it was hard to focus on anything but the feeling of his lips slowly moving against yours. Your eyes were open while his had fallen closed, and he looked… content, almost.
It was a... nice expression on him.
An insistent nip to your lower brought you back to the present. Slowly, and even though your mind was screaming at you to resist, your body relaxed. Just a hint, but he felt it. He felt the exact moment the wall chipped, and he didn’t hesitate to slide his tongue between your lips. He claimed everything you gave, and then pushed for more.
It was overwhelming already. He was always intense, and this was no different as he took took took. Claiming every inch of your mouth, groaning into the kiss as he pressed you against the wall. It felt desperate, and it was all too easy for your body to respond.
When he felt the first hesitant brush of your tongue against his, his grip loosened on your wrists. As though he was testing the waters, he slowly let them go, hand lingering to see how you’d react before he moved it fully. When you didn’t strike him, he moved that hand to your face, cradling it strangely gently while his other hand stroked circles over your hip.
He broke the kiss first, both of you gasping for breath, but you watched with confusion as a grin grew across his face. A quiet, dark laugh rumbled from his chest, and a feeling of dread settled over you when he brought his other hand up to hold your face.
“This is the ‘why’,” he said. At your confused look, he stood up straight to kiss your forehead, lingering there as he spoke against your skin. One hand slid down from your face to hold your hip again. He couldn’t seem to stop moving them where he wanted, and his grip flexed like he was resisting the urge to dig his nails in again. “You asked me why I’m here. This is why. I came to reclaim what was mine.”
Your head snapped up to look at him, pressing back against the wall as though that could create distance. “What? Volo, you can’t just decide something like that!”
You inhaled sharply when the hand on your face moved down to your neck. Not squeezing hard, but holding. You could feel your own pulse speed up right underneath his thumb as he tutted at you. “Oh, but I already have. It was decided ago, while I was waiting for you to reappear.”
He bent down to speak right against your ear as his hand tightened around your throat, voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re not getting rid of me this time. I won’t let you leave me again, dearest.”
When he kissed you again, you quickly realized that he had actually been holding back during the last one. This time, he really was unyielding, and all-consuming. His hands also weren’t hesitating, as the one in your hip slid to dip between your legs. He went straight for your waistband, seemingly out of patience as he shoved his hand into your underwear.
He groaned against your lips when his fingers found the wetness between your legs. It surprised you too, and you shuddered and shifted your hips when the tip of his middle finger just barely penetrated you. Like he was testing, or reacquainting himself. “Your body remembers me well,” he murmured against your lips. “Good, good.”
You were reeling from realizing how right he was about that.
“I remember you liking this. Do you still?” He pulled back to look at you fully, and it was definitely a rhetorical question as his middle finger started stroking firm, slow circles over your clit. Your legs almost buckled from the sensation, and his grip on your neck forced you to keep yourself upright.
When a long finger slid inside of you properly, he paused, just for a moment. The digit pulled out, and a second immediately joined, finding little resistance as they rocked in and out of you. As they did, your body betrayed you, hips twitching forward to take him deeper.
He hummed, contemplative. "You liked when I choked you as well, that night... That I remember very well. How filthy."
A quiet whimper left you at his words. His reaction was immediate. A growled, “fuck!” tore from his throat, and he removed his hand so suddenly, you almost cried out.
Your body was moving before you realized what was happening. He was the one moving you, walking you back towards your couch as you struggled to move with him. When you stumbled over your own feet, he caught you easily, steadying you with strong arms until your feet were moving again.
Then, you were spun around, and a large hand between your shoulders was pushing your upper body forward. Another was gripping your thigh, hoisting your ass up as your head was pushed down. A pathetic noise escaped your lips as you were manhandled into the position he wanted, your hands barely catching yourself on the cushions. When you tried to lift yourself up on your forearms, his hand moved to the back of your head, pressing you down.
“I've waited too long already. I will not wait any longer,” he growled above you, and you could hear him struggle to undo his belt with one hand. There was a shuffle of fabric, and then your pants were being tugged down as well, panties coming with them. His hand found your asscheek, tugging you open obscenely before his thumb stroked over your entrance, dipping in briefly before pulling the digit back out.
You really felt him, then. His cock came to rest on your ass, heavy and thick as he rubbed back and forth, before slowly sliding down to nudge at your entrance. A shudder ran though you, at the sensation and the memories of the last time you’d taken him like this.
“Volo, please-” Even you weren’t sure if you were begging or protesting, but your words broke into a cry as he suddenly, finally, penetrated you. Carefully at first, you noticed. Just the tip stretching you out felt unfairly good, and your body reacted before your mind did, pressing back against him. He pulled out, however, and you bit back a noise when he rubbed his cock over your clit, coating himself in all of the sweet wetness dripping off of you.
When he sank back in, he was unyielding. His moan was loud and unrestrained as he slowly, painstakingly slid himself inside of you. Your hands dug into the couch, unable to stop yourself from whimpering as your body stretched to accommodate him. When his hips were flush against your ass, he sighed in relief.
“Do you feel that?” He cooed, the hand holding your head down now stroking your hair too sweetly as your walls fluttered around him. “You were made for me. Taking me perfectly, even after all this time…”
He was remarkably gentle as he pulled out, leaving just the tip inside of you once again. The gentleness then disappeared when the hand on your head twisted into your hair, and his hips snapped forward roughly.
The pace he set was brutal right from the start. Impatient, intense, and desperate.
It wasn't fair how good it felt being used.
“You cannot deny what has already been decided,” he panted. Your legs started to give out and he let you fall, following and fucking you through it as he pressed you flat against the couch. The angle made you wail, and his chest kept you pinned while his thrusts hit that sweet spot on your front wall incessantly.
You tried to muffle your noises into the cushion, and his hand curled around your throat again, lifting your head up so he could hear you. His lips pressed against your temple, his voice rough as his hips worked mercilessly. “You’re going to come for me, dearest. You’re going to fall apart on my cock, and then I’m going to fill you with my come…”
“...and then I’m going to do it again, and again, and again.” He punctuated each again with a particularly mean thrust, leaving you trembling underneath him as you moaned.
“You’re insane,” you sobbed, gasping when his hand tightened around your throat.
“Maybe so,” he laughed. His other hand slid around your middle, forcing his way under your body, and you lifted for him. Just enough for him to reach your clit, and his pace never slowed as he stroked you with firm, small circles. Your whole body jerked underneath his, but you couldn’t move under his strength. You could only take every bit of pleasure he gave you.
"Come for me, my sweet," he whispered, his breath hot right against your ear, and you did. You fell apart, wailing as your body seized and your vision went white.
He fucked you through it, never slowing and working your body into overstimulation. You still couldn't move away, tears pricking at your eyes as you babbled out pleas for him to slow down, until his rhythm finally faltered. He pressed in hard once, twice, and then you felt unbearably hot as he released inside of you, filling you just as he promised.
He released your throat then, but didn't move his body. His hand slid up into your hair, holding you close as he pressed kiss after kiss your temple and hair. He turned your head to kiss the edge of your lips, and he smiled when you tried to kiss him back.
"Finally..." he murmured, pulling back just enough to look at you. He tilted his head, and the movement uncovered his other eye. Gray, but you could have sworn there was a hint of red in the right one. "No matter how many years it took me... it was worth it."
Slowly easing my way back into writing Corbeau after like 2 months. The beginnings of soft dom Corbeau, I guess? Spicy but not explicit under the cut
“Open your mouth for me, sunshine.” Corbeau’s tone was even, but demanding, and it made a shiver run down your spine. His hand was on your chin, tilting your face up to make you look at him, and he smirked when you listened to his command. Your mouth fell open in a small ‘o’, and he didn’t hesitate to lean forward and slide his tongue right into your mouth.
You moaned quietly into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut. It was gentle at first, with Corbeau leaning into you to deepen the slow, steamy Kalosian kiss. He pulled away after a few moments and cooed teasingly, “Can I pull your hair? I’ll be gentle, I swear it.”
You barely nodded before he curled one hand into the hair at the nape of your neck and, true to his word for now, very gently pulled. You gasped, head tilting back in response, and he went straight for your neck. He placed slow, savoring kisses at the tender skin there, loving every sound he was already pulling out of you. He’d barely even started and you were quietly mewling and gasping at each touch of his lips, and each tug on your hair. His other hand was at your waist, drawing slow circles over your clothes for now, but itching for more.
“You’re being such a good girl…” He smirked against your skin, nipping once before pulling back to look at you.
Your face was completely flushed, eyes blown wide, and your head was spinning just from what he’d already given you. “Corbeau…”
He could help but chuckle, and leaned down to your ear. He nipped your earlobe as he whispered, “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”
Word Count: 2.2k
Pairing: Grisham x Fem Reader
Content: Explicit Sexual Content, Possessive Grisham, Rough sex
Summary: What could make your sweet, composed Grisham lose his mind? Let's find out.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays @wegotfoodathome!!! You got me as your Secret Santa! I hope you enjoy the feral Grisham I’ve prepared for you 😌
What, oh what, could make dear, sweet, ever-composed Grisham lose his mind? A man who made love rather than fuck, and always put your pleasure above his own. Always one to give, and never take.
You found out, fully by accident, that it could be a combination of a few things.
First, he needed to be tired. One too many days of early mornings, long shifts, and not enough sleep. Just enough to make his self-control crack at the edges.
The splash of cold water on his face didn’t do as much to clear his head as he would have liked. His body ached, and his mind was foggy, but he was happy to be home. And, he was even looking forward to having a rare day off with you the next day.
He had tugged on a pair of sweatpants after stripping from his work uniform, but hadn’t bothered putting on a shirt. He might not even bother after his shower.
He finished washing his face mechanically before squinting at the mirror. This late in the day, red stubble was starting to smatter his face. He ran a hand over his chin, feeling the coarse texture, but couldn’t bring himself to shave yet. He would just be careful kissing you when you finally got home.
And kiss you, he would. He had been missing your touch badly that day. He always did, but now he couldn’t get you out of his mind. His thoughts drifted to the idea of running his lips over your neck, shoulders, across your chest and stomach…
His eyes closed and he let out a slow breath when his mental self reached the apex of your thighs, remembering the familiar feeling of his lips pressed against your soft skin.
Maybe he should shave. He’d hate to irritate the skin of your thighs with how long he wanted to be buried between them.
He already felt so wound up just thinking about you.
The second piece of the puzzle: jealousy. Nothing intentional, or malicious. Just a passing comment or compliment from you to, say, Corbeau or Urbain would do it. A small hit to his already bruised ego that made him want to prove himself (even if he didn’t actually need to).
The front door opening and closing made his heart jump, but it was nothing compared to what the sound of your voice did to him. “Grish, I’m home!”
“Welcome home, my love.” He didn’t leave the bathroom just yet as he replied, picking up his razor. He wanted to run to you immediately, but he also wanted to give you the chance to settle in. “How was your day?”
The noise you let out wasn’t a pleasant one. “Ugh, Corbeau called me over for a job, and he didn’t even end up needing my help! He had it handled just fine. I don’t know why he insists on always calling me when he’s perfectly capable.”
Grisham stiffened. He lowered the razor back to the counter, muttering under his breath. “Why indeed…”
He knew why. He wasn’t blind to how the other man looked at you and, really, he couldn’t even blame him. You were perfection. Infinite strength and kindness wrapped in the body of a goddess. Every curve, every detail of you was carved into his mind.
Too bad for Corbeau, you were already taken.
Finally, a tease could help push him over the edge. Intentional or not, just something that made him want to put his hands on you and never take them off. Even better if it reminded him exactly who your heart belonged to.
“Maybe I should just come to work with you tomorrow.” Your voice was light and sweet, and he perked up with interest at the idea. Oh, what a joy that would be, being able to see you throughout his entire day. It would be much harder to get work done, but it would be so worth it.
He hadn’t had the chance to reply before you continued. “It would give me a little break from the hotel. I think the uniform suits me, too!”
Uniform?
Curiosity getting the better of him, he stepped out of the bathroom, and froze. You were standing there in your shared bedroom, looking at yourself in the skinny, full-length mirror, and you were wearing his work shirt. Too big, too long. Your bare thighs were poking out from beneath the hem, the sight taunting him as he dragged his eyes down your legs.
You caught sight of him in the mirror and spun around, showing off your new outfit. You hadn’t even finished buttoning the front, so a sliver of your skin was peeking out, all the way from your neck to your panties.
He could have sworn he felt something in his brain snap.
“Are you trying to torture me?”
“Huh?” That wasn’t quite the reaction you were expecting. You expected him to call you cute, maybe coo over how nice you’d look in the full uniform. When you look up at his face, you gasp.
His eyes are open, and hungry. He crosses the short distance to you in a blink, grabbing your face with both hands and pulling you into a searing kiss. Absolutely no restraint right from the start, devouring your lips with an intensity you rarely felt from him.
He’s still ravishing your lips as he leans down, hooking his hands under your thighs to hoist you up into his arms. You squeak against his mouth as he starts carrying you to the bed, wrapping your legs around his waist and digging your heels into his back for leverage. He doesn’t even try to untangle you from him, instead pressing you right onto the bed as he trails his lips over your face, towards your neck.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” His voice is low and rough in your ear as he presses his hips against yours. He’s already rock hard, aching as he rocks against you. “Surely, you must. You know how badly I burn for you, and you still feel the need to tease me?” He feels feverish as he drags his tongue up your throat, groaning as you squirm and writhe against him.
You’re unsure if he’s actually expecting a response from you, but you’re unable to get any words out at the feeling of him grinding against your core. You can feel practically every inch of him though the thin fabric of your panties and his sweatpants, his length dragging across your clit with every roll of his hips.
He’s drowning in your scent, mixed with his own cologne and musk from where his shirt is touching your skin–it was practically an aphrodisiac for him. He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses all over your shoulders and neck, quickly devolving into nips and bites. You can feel his stubble scraping against your skin with every kiss. Everywhere he can reach is being decorated in faint marks, but they start getting darker the louder your voice gets. Every noise from you spurs him on, rutting his hips against your pussy as he leaves mark after mark on your tender skin.
He pushes the sides of his shirt open, exposing you fully to him, and dips his head down to tug one of your nipples between his teeth. You arch up into him as he lavishes your breasts with just as much attention as he had given your neck.
“Grisham, please-!” You gasp out at a particularly hard suck, and he moans just from the sound of his name on your lips. He didn’t know what you were begging for, but it didn’t matter. He’d give you everything.
He was so completely lost before he was even inside of you.
He needed to be inside of you.
The room spins as Grisham flips you over so that you’re face down on the bed, coaxing you up onto your hands and knees. He pulls his shirt off of you then, wanting to see all of you as he drags his hands down your back.
“I want you like this,” he groans, stroking his hand over your bottom sweetly, squeezing. You weren’t going to deny him, he knew. He always asked for so little.
And, he’s right. He is oh so right, exhaling heavily when you purposefully press your ass back against him. Reaching down, he presses two fingers against your soaked panties, dragging from your clit up to your covered entrance. He nudges your legs apart a bit more before tugging your panties down to your knees. You whine when he drags his fingers through your wetness, not hesitating or teasing before he presses two fingers knuckle deep and hooks them down towards your g-spot.
Patience is not the name of the game today.
You’re more than prepared when he finally, blessedly, pulls his fingers out, slots his tip against you, and slides himself inside of you; inch by hot inch, until you’re stretched around his cock and feeling so full. He, uncharacteristically, doesn’t give you much time to adjust, hips moving in quick, shallow thrusts and building up to more.
“You feel incredible, sweetie…” he whines in your ear. His sweet tone is in stark contrast to the way his cock is brutally fucking into you from behind now. He locks one hand onto your thigh, pulling you back to meet each of his thrusts, while the other wraps underneath you, reaching for your chest.
You're already barely hanging on, one hand on the wall and the other gripping the bed sheets like your life depends on it. His chest is hot and heavy against your back, so close you can feel his chest hair rubbing against you.
He would never get tired of the feeling of you wrapped around his cock. He could swear he felt drunk just from how nicely you squeezed him, so wet and warm. All for him.
“Do you have any idea how many men you know would kill to be in my place right now?” As he asks, his thrusts slow, grinding into you slow and deep. He's drinking up every little whine you let out, dragging his teeth over your shoulder. “But, they don’t know you like I do, do they? They don’t deserve this. I don’t even deserve this. You're so sweet, letting me fuck you like this."
“Wha…?” Your head was spinning. Just as you tried to protest his last statement, his thrusts sped up again, and all that came out of your mouth was a loud cry. The sweet drag of his cock through your tight walls is mind numbing, and it took all of your words away. It didn’t take away his, however.
“You’re perfect, my sweet angel. Absolutely divine. I know all of your tastes, everything you love, everything you crave...” His hand on your chest trails higher, running his fingertips over your soft lips briefly before pressing two fingers into your mouth, against your tongue. You can taste yourself on his skin.
The moan you let out is nothing short of obscene as you obediently suck on the digits in your mouth. He sputters out a curse, hips stuttering briefly before regaining their harsh tempo. “Fuck, they don’t know how sweet you taste, how beautiful you sound when you’re being fucked. Just. Right.” He punctuates the last three words with three particularly mean thrusts, ones that left your legs trembling.
He sucks in a breath when he feels you start tightening around him, grinding into you deeply. The hand on your thigh moves to your clit, rubbing in firm circles. “Yes that’s it, my love, please. Come on my cock, let me feel you."
And then you’re whining loud around his fingers as you pulse hard around his dick, and he’s in heaven.
He doesn’t even stop when your arms and legs give out and you collapse onto the bed. He slips out of you briefly, and he whines at the loss as he drops to press his body back down onto you. He immediately lifts your hips just enough to slide himself back into your tender pussy, desperate to feel you again.
His right arm curls underneath your shoulders, hand holding onto your left shoulder tightly as he presses you up against him and down onto the bed simultaneously. He needs to be as close to you as possible. He has to be. Nothing could pull him away from you, nothing.
You’re a moaning mess underneath him as he fucks you harder than he ever has before. He's still babbling praise and words of love against your neck as his hips smack into ass over, and over, and over again.
Your sweet begging and cries of his name is what pushes him over the edge. His hips stutter as he moans out your name, spilling inside of you; marking you as his in every possible way.
You shift, thinking he's going to get up and pull out of you, but you jolt and whimper when you feel him start slowly thrusting again. You can feel him hardening already, dragging through your combined mess and swollen walls. Your voice is weak as you ask, "baby, already?"
He presses gentle kisses to your shoulder as he chuckles, urging your hips back up. "You've made me lose my composure, dearest. I don't believe it's coming back any time soon."
"You're insatiable," you cried as his hips snapped back into yours once again. You're pushing back to meet his thrusts, anyway.
And you were right. He absolutely was insatiable when it came to you, and he was far beyond the point of holding back.
