#@flowery-mess
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Too Close To Touch // SIX
warning: violence, swearing
Bad Omens : Concrete forever , Show 19 / 20
Itâs not like you wanted to wait this long to lose your virginity. You just never got around to it. And as far as you were concerned, first and last person you were ever with, just so happened to be Noah Sebastian, who broke your plump little 20 year old heart 3 years ago. Somehow, the universe keeps pushing you two back together. Your brother doesnât even know the half of what went on between you two. You donât want him to know. You shudder at the thought of Folio finding out that Noah tookâ
You shake your head at the thought. Red crept across your cheeks as you place your palms on your warm face to calm yourself down. Noah and your brother have been friends for as long as you could remember, but if Folio were to have found out that Noah did that with youâŠâŠ he would want his head on a stick.
âY/N.â Ruffilo snaps his fingers, and you snap out of your head. âHuh?â Your drumsticks almost roll out of your lap as Ruffilo was waving his hand at you while you were zoning out. â I was asking if you wanted to come to the meet and greet with us.â His eyebrows crease, slightly concerned.
âI donât see why I would. No one knows me as more than a substitute. Why canât Folio go to the meet and greet? Heâs not crippled.â
Ruffilo snorts. âHe is coming. Noah just thought it would make sense if you were there too.â
You could physically see the confusion spread across your face when Ruffilo said this. He noticed it and shrugged. âGuess he had a change of heart. Câmon, it starts in 10.â He ushers his head to the door. You nodded and set the drum sticks on the table before pushing off your knees to stand up.
--
The meet and greet was chaotic. The boys were trying to get as many fans along as possible and you felt so out of place. You stood on the end, collecting dirty looks from every girl who stood in line. The minute they all took their photos, they gave inquiring looks as to why you were even there. You were used to being overlooked, you just donât know why Noah even wanted you there.
The meet and greet paused for a brief intermission while everyone dispersed to the backstage area. Jolly and Folio getting a sip of water while Ruffilo was talking with Matt about the setup of the concert. You rubbed your eye, pulling out your pack of cigarettes from your pants pocket, heading towards the back door for a smoke break. The door to the outside opens outward which scares you nearly half to death as Noah stands in the doorway before grabbing your wrist, pulling you outside.
âJesus CHRIST Noah.â You clutch your chest as his large hands rested on your hips, pulling the cigarette box fom your hand. âNow what were you planning on doing with these?â He asks, a grin pulling at his lips. âIâve been trying to quit.â You lied. âWhy arenât you with the rest of the boys, out here?â You asked, trying to pull the box back from his hand but he holds behind his back.
âNeeded a break from the goo goo eyes for a minute.â He chuckles. âCan you blame them?â You ask, sighing deeply. He merely shrugs before pulling you into a deep kiss. You let him take you for a minute before you put a hand on his chest, slightly pushing him back. âNoah, weâre going to get caught.â You explain, concern in your voice as you look around. âNo we wonât. The others donât even know about this area because they all quit smoking.â He chuckles. âWhy did you add me to the meet and greet? The fans acted like I was the plague.
âBecause, youâve been helping this band, Iâm sure at least a few fans would want to meet the drummer. Especially because youâre related to Folio.â He explains. Well he guessed wrong.
âIâm surprised they donât want to burn me at the stake.â You shrug, looking at your feet. You could feel the confusion radiating from Noah. âI mean, itâs not like we kept our relationship private when we were together before, keeping it private now seems wrong.â
â3 years ago, our band wasnât what it is now baby. Iâm not ashamed of you. Iâm just waiting for the right time.â
Anxiety filled your body as you took a deep breath. You couldnât keep a secret from anyone and the fact that it felt like Noah was tying your hands, but thatâs show biz wasnât it?
âHey.â He whispers, kissing your forehead gently before bringing his face to your level. His brown eyes were so captivating. You couldnât look away from him. âTrust me. Okay?â He cups your cheek before kissing your lips gently, eerily gently, almost thinking if he were to kiss you any harder, you would disappear. The door shoved open behind the two of you which scared you both. Noah had slightly bitten your lower lip so you made a noise as he pulled away from you. You turned around and see Ruffilo standing in the door way, a look of surprise plastered on his face. You looked at Noah before looking back at Ruffilo. You felt warmth of embarrassment flush over your face before your fight or flight kicked in and you shoved past Ruffilo, back inside.
**Noahâs POV**
The minute Ruffilo opened that door, the entirety of my fucks flew right out my head. Did I want him to catch Y/N and I in the back alley? No. But was I upset that he did? No. It was going to get out eventually. Ruffilo doesnât say anything before he steps outside, closes the door with a loud slam and shoves me square in the chest. I stumble back with a grunt before I catch myself from falling flat on my ass. âWhat the fuck, Nick?â I groaned, placing my hand on my chest, rubbing it softly. âI knew you were an idiot Sebastian, but I never took you as a fool.â He pointed at me. âWhy the hell are you macking on Folioâs sister? Huh?â
I rolled my eyes. âHer name is Y/N.â
âDonât bullshit me. Weâre almost done with our tour and you pull a stunt like this? I always knew you had feelings for her but I never thought youâd be stupid enough to act on them.â
Punch. I punched my best friend square in the jaw. The minute I did it I regretted it because he retaliated by shoving me and he started swinging. Iâm not sure if it was the testosterone that got the best of me, or the feelings I had pushed down about Y/N for so long, but they finally reached the tipping point. Nick kept swinging at my face and I tried to hold his wrists when my voice of reason came back to my conscience, but he wouldnât stop.
My lip split and I felt bruising starting to form around my eye, until I heard the door open. âNick!â Matt rushes out of the building, followed by Jolly and Folio. Jolly and Matt try to pull Nick off of me. With a bit of a struggle, they were successful. Jolly helped me up and Matt was furious. âJust what the FUCK do you think youâre doing Ruffilo?â Matt yells, holding Nick by his chest until he had calmed down. Y/N peeked her face out of the door, trying not to be part of the fight. She genuinely looked crushed and frightened. Nick had never blown up like this before, let alone on his best friend. The minute her eyes landed on me and my fresh injuries she looked like she was going to cry.
âNick, what the hell?â Folio asks. Nick chuckles, astonished as he shook his head. âYou all are so oblivious. Noahâ s been fucking Y/N under all of our noses while our band is supposed to be nearing itâs peak.â The area filled with silence. âThatâs not true Nick.â I tried to defend Y/N, only to earn an eye roll form him. âPlease. I come out here to see you shoving your tongue down her throat. What, are you black mailing her to play for us? I wouldnât put I by you, Noah.â
** END OF NOAHâS POV**
With that comment, you could tell something set Noah off because he tried to get out of Jollyâs grasp. You could see the flames light in his eyes as he approached Nick and grabbed him by the collar, shoving Matt aside briefly. âYou ever say some shit like that about her, I donât care if you are my best friend, I swear to God Iâll kill you.â
âNoah.â Matt snaps as Noah lets Nick go, and doesnât even bother to go back inside past you. He walks in the other direction, into the parking lot, and he doesnât look back.
âNoah, get your ass back here right now, we have a show to do! You canât leave! Â Matt exclaims. Jolly starts slowly jogging after him before you lock eyes with your brother. You couldnât read his face but you could see an exhale exit his chest before he walks towards you. âCome with me.â Folio whispers grabbing your wrist gently.
One thing about your brother, is that when he was quiet after something of this sort happens, shit was about to hit the fan. Â
Thanks for the support babies <3 love you and your thoughts always
#bad omens#bad omens fanfiction#jolly karlsson#nick folio#noah sebastian#nick ruffilo#concert#badomenscult#@darkmxgician#@flowery-mess
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I feel like I can't seem to make anything proper again, just another little crisis so have those random doodles and whenever I'm there mentally again I keep worrying way too much and trying to not think I'm annoying with my character stuff sorry for the semi vent, but somehow this week's been weird private matter wiseđ






Gabs might also have to make it clear she's no nurse, that she's only capable of basic things+ stitching, but she'd aid grunts and other expop who got friendly fire'd immediately if needed. With primes she's a bit hesitant but gets the job done. One time she wouldn't care about anything is if pulling sleeves or pant legs up too high cuts blood circulation after a while as she refuses to cut the fabric to have it go up better. You gotta endure it once it's done
Also screw yall/j *genderbends the prime asset as a excuse to draw these suit sets*

#outlast trials#outlast#mother gooseberry#dr futterman#leland coyle#franco barbi#gabriella garland#outlast trials oc#to excuse me messing scaling up I'd say Franco goes on tip toes sometimes just to spite Gabby and make her feel even smaller than she is#she still gets the human raggedy ann/teddy treatment too tbh#she does not like being used as a portable headrest just for the good height she has for it#for having hair#and for smelling flowery or powdery with a slightly stinging iron scent due to the nosebleeds and such
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Hi! This is probably very random, but is there a chance you used to write for Dolan twins back in the day? I remember following aussie girl named Leah, but then she deactivated her account I think? And you just give me 'I know this girl' vibes hehe. If not, sorry for this inboxđ
Yes that would be me. I was Dolandolll
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messing around with magnet words again
#mine#magnet poetry#i want to do a whole conversation between these 2 characters i just invented#it's fun to play with the different voices. for whatever reason this pack of words has a billion flowery ones#to the point that it can be hard to work around#but the fact that you always need SOME basic words means i can also do the other voice#just have to get creative with what they say#'do you like me' 'my car is here' 'we could go'#im missing 'do you' and 'could' rn tho#i guess i could also do 'i like you' or 'let's go' if i found the words for those. hmmmm#'we could go to a play' maybe#the board is too small to have all the words out so im missing some very basic ones and it's frustrating#someday when i have more space im going to have a whole big magnet board up on the wall for magnet words#and there will be lots of space for poems#i like messing with them it's very relaxing
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Can you make a moodboard for a wedding with Bradley?đ«¶đ» small wedding, with lots of lights and beautiful flowers and everything. Thank youđ
sorry this took so long!! i hope you like it!
here it is!
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.
#jade watches gilmore girls#it still doesn't sit right with me that lorelai left without telling max she didn't want to get married (but had the decency to tell sookie)#dragging rory with her with no plan at all just unhinged driving and would sooner have her sleep in a car than a b+b just because-#-its too flowery#and when rory rightfully asks her about max and calls her out about messing about with their life that affects her....she shuts down throws-#a tantrum and picks in that moment to be the mum (this is why being a bestie instead of a parent and making your child the parent doesn't-#-work even though i know why it's like that)#lorelai seriously needed therapy#i do love this ep though don't get me wrong
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oh hey indecipherable and overly complex gifset edits with flashy transitions and impossible to read fonts. didn't miss you at all
#I followed the link and the quote is good but the combo of extremely flowery fonts with fancy transitions#and bright colors all happening within miliseconds of each other. absolutely nonsense. terribly made. one of the worse I've ever seen#screenshots can't do this thing justice it is a MESS#cor.txt
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GIRL IM SO SORRY I FORGOT TO AMSWERR
ok but like the exam was... ok? I mean i need 16 right answer to pass so it either that or I failed with 15 right answers lmaoo.
But yeah, I study psychology, which is ironic if you think about the fact that I am in therapy due to anxiety and panic attacks
At one point, my anxiety was so high bc of the exams (the one I ranted about was the laast exam for the semester, I had 6 in total) that my sister was like " girls trip đ?" - so yeah, now we're in Amsterdam.
But damn girl, the imagine was amaazing. Literally can't.
What about hotel room pt. 2? đ
Oh let me know the result when you know it! I'm sure you got this!
That's SO cool, I wanted to study psychology too, but lot of people apply to that program in the city I wanted to go and I'm not like super study type, so I knew I wouldn't get in so I didn't even try lol, but I was always interested in working with kids. I tried getting into social work program twice and also didn't get in, but I'm kinda hapoy about that, cause I am so emotional I don't think I could do the real job. What year are you in?
And about your own mental health problems, I think at the other hand it's an advantage? Like you can feel more empathy for others and offer them what works for you. Even if it's getaway trip to Amsterdam, that is also really cool! I hope you have a great time, let me know how you like itđ
Thank youâ€ïž and Hotel room #2 is in the works, I started writing, but my bachelor thesis is due in like a month and I am not finished with it and I feel guilty writing anything else rnđ but I promise it will be the first thing I look into after I'm done with the thesis
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some more thoughts about vi and high sex because⊠well sheâs just hot your honor. 18+ below, and cw for marijuana use (duh).
stoner!vi who teaches you how to roll a blunt one night after youâd confided in her that youâd never done it before. she sets up a blunt-rolling station on her coffee table, complete with a pack of blue dutches - the superior blunt wrap, according to her - and a half ounce of her best weed. the sickly sweet, flowery scent of the bud tickles at your nose as vi shows you how to place it into her grinder, shutting it and twisting the metal disks until the weed is ground down to smaller bits.
stoner!vi whose tongue pokes out of her lips in concentration, her brow furrowed as she carefully demonstrates splitting a cigarillo right down the middle. she punctures the tobacco with her thumb nail, then works the tear down until the cigarilloâs opened up. you mimic her actions, and she reassures you when you struggle to tear the tobacco in a straight line.
âyouâve got this, angel,â she says with an encouraging smile, eyes glimmering when she looks at you.
stoner!vi whose fingers are methodical, spreading ground up weed into the blunt wrap with a precision that genuinely impresses you. when she starts to fold over the edge to close the blunt, she brings it to her lips, licking along the seam of the wrap and working it closed. those piercing eyes stay focused on you as she works, and you have to squeeze your thighs together to relieve the heat at your center.
stoner!vi who lights your finished blunt for you, holding the lighter to the end of the blunt as you inhale. the cherry glows bright orange and when you exhale a cloud of smoke, vi hums in approval.
âknew you could do it, babe,â she says, and your cheeks go warm. you pass the blunt to her, which she takes with a nod of gratitude.
stoner!vi who gets high enough to suggest shotgunning - a classic pothead-trying-to-get-into-your-pants move. sheâs almost surprised when you agree to it⊠but then again, sheâs seen the way you look at her sometimes.
stoner!vi who caresses your jaw with one hand, holding the blunt in her other hand as she brings her lips to yours. itâs an almost-kiss that makes both of you hot with arousal, and as your lips part for you to inhale the smoke from viâs mouth, you let out a pleased moan.
vi hears it, because of course she does.
stoner!vi who covers you in kisses and bite marks, faint bruises decorating your neck and chest. she takes her time undressing you, hands rough and calloused from a lifetime of fighting. her touch is still soft, though, somehow. sheâs gentle when she wants to be.
stoner!vi who pushes you down into the mattress, climbing over you and lowering her clenching cunt to your mouth. you moan against her warm, wet folds. tonguing at her like a woman starved. her lips unleash an endless stream of praises - yes, good girl, thatâs it, eat me like that. every filthy word that leaves her mouth only makes you wetter, your eyes rolling back and fluttering closed as vi rides your face.
stoner!vi who squirts when she comes, overwhelmed by the pleasure of fucking herself on your mouth. sheâs high and overly sensitive, so when you roll your tongue over her twitching clit, she goes rigid and gasps like a porn star.
stoner!vi who spends the rest of the evening palming your tits and stuffing you full with her fingers, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you until youâre nothing but a panting, whining mess for her.
when youâre done, she holds up another blunt, eyes still hazy from the weed and the sex. âwanna go for another?â
#vi x reader#vi x reader smut#vi x reader fic#vi arcane fic#vi arcane drabble#vi arcane fanfic#vi arcane headcanon#vi arcane x reader#vi arcane#stoner!vi#and honestly#stoner!reader#vi headcanon#vi drabble#vi blurb#vi fanfiction#vi smut#vi fanfic#vi headcanons#my writing
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Cowboy Sukuna (Part 1)
Sukuna became a cowboy so he wouldn't have to let anyone tell him what to do. And because he wanted to put some distance between himself and his little brother so Sukuna wouldn't drag him into his mess. Sukuna is made for the lonesome cowboy life. He doesn't need anyone by his side. He isn't looking for love. At least that's what he thinks until he meets you, a pretty girl in a flowery dress and cowboy boots who somehow knows how to tear Sukuna's walls down.
Cowboy!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Cowboy AU, fluff + smut Word Count: 7.5k Playlist: Cowboy Sukuna Warnings: 18+, smut, cigarettes, alcohol, fistfights, blood. Minors don't interact. This story is inspired by @sweetlandspos fanart of Cowboy Sukuna (also this is the selfie he sends Reader). I saw him and fell in love, and I just HAD to write a story about this sexy cowboy. Divider @/benkeibear. The art in the header was used with permission from @/sweetlandspos
Sukuna grew up thinking he belonged nowhere. He can't even remember his dad and his mama didn't want him either. He was raised by his grandpa, but Sukuna was a wild one, a rebel and troublemaker, famous in his small town but for all the wrong reasons. He got all those tattoos when he was far too young, got into all those fistfights, broke all those hearts, and even got into trouble with the cops once. His gramps told Sukuna he was a bad influence on his little brother, so when Sukuna was old enough, he left it all behind and bought this old ranch in the middle of nowhere.
He renovated the old farmhouse all by himself and built his own life out here. A life he could be proud of. It's a lonely life. No wife, no kids, not even a girlfriend. Just Sukuna and his dog and horse and the cows. And lots of hard work. But it's what Sukuna tells himself he wants. The bad boy cowboy never even considered getting married. He doesn't think he is made for love. He isn't even sure he deserves it or is capable of it. Sukuna enjoys life out here in the middle of nowhere and tells himself he doesn't need anyone by his side, anyway.
If he wants to fuck, he can drive to town and flirt his way into some pretty girl's bed. It's never anything serious. Just a few hours of fun and then Sukuna is gone again. No goodbye kiss, no exchange of phone numbers. The only thing he leaves behind are some muddy bootprints on her front porch, and some cigarette ash flicked out of his car window.
Sukuna doesn't expect to ever find love or even want to find it. And he certainly doesn't think that he will meet his future wife on a random Tuesday morning in the shabby old hardware store he has been frequenting for years.
He got into his pickup truck at sunrise, driving several hours to the small town to buy some things in the hardware store, and that's where he runs into you, a sweet little thing in a flowery dress and pretty cowboy boots, wringing your hands nervously when Sukuna has some questions regarding the pond supplies he wants to buy.
He grins at you, taking his cowboy hat off and nodding at you respectfully, all polite because contrary to what he looks like with all his tattoos and the intimidating height and muscular build, he can be a gentleman if he wants to, and you seem like such a sweetheart, Sukuna thinks you deserve his best charming self.
You tell him it's your first day working here and you have to check with your boss. You apologize profusely to Sukuna, and he can't stop the smirk from spreading over his tattooed face because you are so damn cute.
He tells you, "It's okay, ma'am, I have time.", and watches you get all flustered before you hurry to the back of the store.
You return a few minutes later with a warm smile on your face and answer Sukuna's questions, showing him around and also helping him pick some other things he says he needs (which he doesn't, but he likes the way you smile at him and the way your sweet flowery perfume fills his nose anytime you move).
You even insist on helping him load the items into his pickup truck,
"See it as compensation for my earlier lack of fishing pond knowledge."
And Sukuna laughs and thanks you,
"There is nothing you have to compensate for. I am very pleased with your service."
He eyes the nameplate attached to your dress and addresses you by your name, letting it roll off his tongue in his low, velvety voice that he knows girls find sexy. Sukuna can see that you are affected by his charm, and he grins broadly at you when he tips his cowboy hat in a farewell. And you smile so sweetly at him, and Sukuna is pretty sure you really mean it when you tell him to come back again soon.
Sukuna is back in town only a week later, picking up a new saddle he ordered at the local saddler, but he drives past the hardware store on his way back, and something makes him slow down, makes him take one last deep drag from his cigarette and then flick the cigarette butt out the open window before Sukuna pulls into the small parking lot.
Sukuna tells himself it's a good idea to have a little look around when he already made the long drive into town anyway. He could use a new toolbox. The old one is still functioning, but this new one comes with a sweet girl in a cute little skirt and those shiny cowboy boots. Sukuna spends thirty minutes in the little shop until he finally sees you coming out from the back.
Your gaze meets his, and he sees the way your eyes widen just as Sukuna grins at you, tipping his cowboy hat in greeting and casually strolling over to you.
You smile brightly at him, remembering him (Of course you do. Sukuna knows he always leaves an impression), greeting him by his name, and asking him how you can be of help.
Sukuna cocks his head, a lazy smirk spreading over his handsome, tattooed face, letting his gaze travel over your pretty face and cute curves, thinking that he definitely knows some things you could help him with. He is pretty sure he could have you in his truck in no time at all, his calloused hands slipping under your cute little skirt while your pretty mouth moans his name. But something makes him hold back.
It's untypical for Sukuna. He drove all the way to town and will only be here for a few hours. Usually, he makes good use of that time to get his fill of some sweet pussy wrapped around his cock to keep him satisfied for the long lonely nights to come once he is back home again, riding over the plains, herding his cows.
But Sukuna looks at your sweet smile and your genuine kindness, and it doesn't feel right to only fuck you and then leave again to never see you again.
And so Sukuna doesn't try to get under your skirt but instead leans down to grin at you and ask you to help him pick a nice new toolbox.
He walks out of the store an hour later, not just with a new toolbox but also a new BBQ grill, some lawn chairs, and a saddle bag he could have gotten in much better quality at the saddler he just came from. But it's okay because it meant that he could spend a whole hour with you in the shitty little hardware store, letting you show him around, talking to him in your sweet voice with the thick accent, while Sukuna watched your little skirt sway around your knees.
You accompany him to his truck again, and Sukuna smirks at you like the devil that he is, asking in a teasing voice,
"Is this some new service your store offers? Helping every customer load their stuff into their cars? Or is this a special service just for me?"
His smirk grows bigger when he sees how flustered you get once again, and he adds,
"No need to get all shy on me, sweetheart. I like being your favorite customer."
You giggle nervously but smile that bright smile at him again and quickly ask him where he lives and what he's doing for a living. And Sukuna laughs and points at his cowboy hat,
"This is what I'm doing. The hat isn't just a sexy accessory."
"Oh? So you're really a cowboy?"
"Yeah, as real as you can meet one. I have my own ranch a few hours from here. Just me and my animals."
You smile at him, getting a slightly dreamy look in your eyes, telling him,
"That sounds nice."
Sukuna doesn't know why his chest feels so fluttery and warm the whole drive home. He even catches himself humming along softly to one of those stupid, catchy lovesongs playing on the country station on his shitty old car radio.
Cowboy Sukuna doesn't know what it is, but lately, he keeps coming to town more often than usual. It's Friday night, and he's sitting in the small bar with the roses on the wooden sign above the old-fashioned saloon doors.
Sukuna is drinking whiskey with some rancher who wants to buy several cows from him, when Sukuna suddenly sees you. All pretty and sexy without knowing it, in your blue jeans and the cropped blouse, laughing unrestrainedly with your girls after a long work day.
Sukuna can't take his eyes off you. He watches you over the rim of his whiskey glass, feeling that strange warmth in his chest again. He's about to put his glass down and walk over to you when he sees a guy bump into you.
The asshole is acting as if it was by accident, but he is far too handsy for Sukuna's taste. Standing much too close to you, his shoulders brushing against yours, his mouth at your ear, saying something to you.
Sukuna grits his teeth.
You smile politely at the guy, laughing awkwardly, not at all like when you laugh with Sukuna. You are uncomfortable. That much is clear to see, but Sukuna can tell you are a good girl who was taught to always be nice and polite, even to that guy with the grabby hands. That pathetic worm puts a hand on your hip, and Sukuna sees red.
He slams his whiskey glass down on the table and crosses the small bar in a few large steps, grabbing that handsy guy and pulling him off you with an angry growl. Sukuna slams him into the wall, glaring at him, his voice low and dangerous,
"Get your dirty hands off her, or I'll fucking kill you!"
Your wide, surprised eyes stare at Sukuna, and that nameless guy screams and tries to punch him, but Sukuna just laughs about the pathetic attempt and drags him further away from you, grabbing him by the collar as Sukuna's right fist connects with the asshole's face.
Sukuna has always been good at fistfights. He is a rough guy, a dirty fighter, sadistic when someone pisses him off. He tried to stay out of trouble those last few years, but tonight, he is not restraining his anger, not when it comes to protecting you.
He smirks devilishly at the guy when that asshole manages to land a hit on Sukuna's face. It just manages to rile Sukuna up even more. He laughs and taunts that loser for hitting like a little boy before Sukuna attacks again and sends the guy tumbling to the floor with the next hard punch.
It's then that your small, soft hands wrap around Sukuna's tattooed biceps, and your sweet voice says his name with so much worry that it makes Sukuna stop going after that guy on the floor. He just jerks his head at the guy, telling him to get lost,
"If you know what's good for you, you better stay a mile away from that sweet lady in the future. Now apologize to her."
And the guy scrambles to his feet, mumbling a sorry before he flees from the bar and from Sukuna.
Sukuna slowly turns around, running a tattooed hand through his pink hair. He wipes his split lip on his sleeve, gives you a lopsided grin, and asks if you are okay.
And you stare at him with big, worried eyes, taking in the blood on his tattooed face, but a small smile plays around your lips as you tell Sukuna,
"Thank you for getting him away from me. I am fine... but what about you? Your lip... let me fix that, please."
You take Sukuna's large hand in your smaller one, tugging gently on it, and Sukuna follows you out of the bar.
You lead him down the road to your small house, inviting him in, not to have sex with him, but to patch him up, and somehow it feels a lot more intimate than all the times combined that Sukuna went home with another girl.
You are so sweet to him, scolding him for getting into a fight and getting himself hurt, but your fingers are so gentle when you wipe the blood off Sukuna's face and put a band-aid on his split lip. You smile softly as you trace the tattoos on Sukuna's jaw with your fingers and whisper a thank you to him.
"Thank you for protecting me from that guy and teaching him a lesson. You're a good guy."
And Sukuna laughs roughly, grinning at you and shaking his head,
"That's a first. Usually, I get called the opposite."
And you laugh with him, your soft fingers still cupping his chin and touching his tattoos oh so gently, insisting that even though he looks like a bad boy, Sukuna seems really nice.
Sukuna is so close to just pulling you on his lap and kissing you, but he refrains from doing it. Because he knows where it would lead, and for once in his life, Sukuna doesn't want a one-night stand. He doesn't want to fuck you and then drive back to his life out on the ranch to never see you again.
He doesn't want that with you. He wants to see you again, and he wants to take things slow. He wants to court you in an old-fashioned way.
Sukuna eats the homemade pie you bring him and drinks the coffee you insist he should drink before he drives back home. He thanks you politely for playing nurse for him and for feeding him, looking at you with the most charming smile he can give you with his split lip. And you tell him he is welcome and that he knows now where to find you if he ever needs someone to patch him up again.
Sukuna returns a week later to the hardware store, not because he needs to buy anything, but for you. He sees you smile when you spot him leaning casually against a wooden fence display, twirling his cowboy hat in his fingers and smirking that lazy grin at you.
You only have eyes for him, forgetting what you want to say to the customers you are serving. Looking at them in confusion and stuttering an excuse before your gaze wanders back to Sukuna. And Sukuna's smirk grows bigger.
He didn't even dress nice. He is just wearing his typical black jeans and cowboy boots, and one of the flannel shirts he always wears on the ranch. But he knows he looks good anyway. Sukuna knows the ladies love his handsome face and his tall and strong body with all those well-defined muscles from all the hard work. And his pink hair and tattoos are very popular with the country girls, too. They all get weak in the knees for a bad boy like Sukuna.
But somehow, he doesn't want to be a bad boy when it comes to you. A strange warmth spreads through Sukuna's chest when you leave the other customers standing and come over to him with that big smile on your pretty face, greeting him and telling him that it's nice to see him again.
No, Sukuna doesn't want to be an asshole or a bad boy when it comes to you. He wants to be a good man for you. He is polite to you, sweet, and respectful. A true cowboy and gentleman.
He grins his boyish grin at you, cocking his head and drawls,
"I thought I should stop by to check on you. Make sure there aren't any weird guys I have to fistfight for you."
Sukuna flirts with you and makes you laugh and giggle until your boss gives you side eyes and informs you that you shouldn't pester customers. But Sukuna turns to the man, towering over him,
"She is just helping me decide which products to buy. You shouldn't berate her but rather give her a raise. This sweet lady is the best thing about this shitty store. The only reason I keep coming back."
You burst out laughing the moment your boss has left and Sukuna thinks his stomach has never felt so fluttery. He asks you when your shift is over and if he can take you out for dinner. He is delighted when you say yes.
Sukuna waits until your shift is over and then leads you to his old pickup truck, holding open the door for you, giving you a hand, and helping you climb into it. His hand rests a bit longer than necessary on the small of your back, but you don't seem to mind.
He takes you to a cozy little restaurant that he has been to several times before. Always alone because Sukuna never went on dates in the past. But the elderly lady who owns the restaurant always tells Sukuna that she knows the type of cowboy Sukuna is from the time when she was still a young girl.
"Oh, I have had several boys like you in my life. Y'all are such handsome devils, but always breaking hearts everywhere you go because you are always running from something, and you don't even know from what. I wish for you to find the right girl one day. And if you do, bring her here."
And now Sukuna is here with you, walking into the restaurant with his arm wrapped lightly around you, catching the knowing gaze of the old lady behind the counter. She leads the two of you to a table on the patio, all romantic with wildflowers in a mason jar and fairy lights overhead.
Sukuna has never been on a real date, but he likes this. He likes to be here with you, chat with you, laugh with you, and hold your hand on the table, watching his long tattooed fingers interlace with your smaller ones, which feel so soft.
The hours slip by without either of you noticing how late it is.
When it is time to bring you home, Sukuna drives you to your house, parks the truck in front of it, and turns to you to say the typical flirty stuff that he usually says to girls, but he stops when he sees your smile, and somehow anything he usually says seems so hollow and fake, and it wouldn't be right to say it to you.
Sukuna closes his mouth again, gulping hard, the bad boy cowboy at a loss for words for the first time in his life.
This feeling is new to Sukuna. All of this is new to him. This warmth in his chest and the fluttery feeling in his stomach. And how he is so damn scared to fuck things up and lose you before you even are his.
How can Sukuna even say anything at all to you when everything he wants to tell you is so fucking raw and loaded with feelings he has never felt before? When it all makes him feel so fucking vulnerable?
Like the fact that Sukuna really enjoys spending time with you and that he wants to see you again. Or that he is pretty sure he gets butterflies when hearing your laugh. Or that he never believed in love, but he thinks he is starting to do it now.
He can't say those things, can he?
In the end, it doesn't need any words from him. You smile at him and thank him for the lovely evening, adding a bit shyly that you aren't used to going on dates, and then stutter because you realize what you said and you are worried that it wasn't really a date and you made a fool of yourself by assuming it was one.
And Sukuna can't help but grin and then do the one thing that will shut you up and hopefully ease your worries:
He kisses you right there in his truck. Cups your chin with his calloused hand and brushes his lips softly over yours. Careful, gentle. Something Sukuna usually isn't, but you bring out some part of him that was dormant until now.
Sukuna wants this kiss to be special. He wants to be gentle with you because you are gentle with him, too. You are sweet and kind. You treat him as if he is deserving of tenderness.
You make a cute, surprised sound, but don't pull away. Instead, your hand lands on Sukuna's neck, caressing the short stubble of his undercut, pulling him closer as your lips begin to move against his, too, and Sukuna can't help but smile into the sweetest kiss he ever had.
When the two of you pull apart again, Sukuna smiles at you, a genuine, soft smile, and tells you,
"It was absolutely a date. And I had a lovely evening, too, princess. Let me take you out to dinner again soon."
Sukuna watches you get out of his truck and walk to your front door. He lifts a hand to give you a little wave when you turn around in the open doorway to smile at him once again, whisper-shouting to him that you wish him a safe drive home.
Sukuna stays in his truck outside your house until the light in your living room goes on, and he knows you are safe and sound before he finally pulls out of your driveway and makes his long way home, his thoughts filled with your smile and the taste of your sweet lips and tongue in his mouth.
Sukuna stays true to the promise he made to himself and really takes things slow with you. He has to work anyway, look after his ranch, fix some fences, and ride across the plains, where he meets no other human being for several days. But you are on his mind the whole time.
He sends you pictures from his rides when he is lucky and gets a signal. Selfies of him on horseback, grinning at you with a cigarette dangling from the corner of his lips. And some pics of some of his cows, smiling when you ask for their names.
"They don't have names. I just numbered them. But you can give them names if you like, sweetheart."
And you do. You send Sukuna the stupidest names you can think of, and he can't stop grinning,
"I sure hope you won't be in charge of naming any kids."
"Well, I will let their daddy help choose the names if he has such a problem with my name-giving skills."
And Sukuna's head spins at the implication. You're a tease in such a sweet way, and it drives him completely insane.
But Sukuna knows he drives you crazy for him, too. He knows that as much as you like the normal pictures he sends you, you also love the thirst traps he blesses you with.
The pictures where he is shirtless, all his tattoos and defined muscles on display for you, sweat glistening on his strong body, his faded, ripped jeans sitting low on his hips and doing nothing to hide the massive bulge throbbing in them.
You send him pictures, too, not as shameless as the thirst traps Sukuna sends you, but enough to drive him crazy. He has never held himself back so long, but damn, he thinks you are worth all the hard-ons he has and only his own hand to take care of them. Sure, Sukuna could drive to the next bar and find a random girl to ease that pressure, but he doesn't want it. There is only one girl he wants.
Sukuna can wait. He knows you are worth it.
And as much as he wants to have you under him, leaving scratches on his back and squealing his name in pleasure, he also wants to just talk to you or maybe take you on a little ride on his horse.
He calls you every night just to hear your voice and ask about your day, laughing about all the rude customers at the hardware store. Sukuna asks you what you had for dinner and listens to all the latest gossip your mama told you. Sometimes, he falls asleep while listening to your sweet voice and sees a text from you in the morning telling him that he sounds cute when he snores.
Maybe that's ruining the bad-boy reputation that Sukuna has all over your small town, but he doesn't give a fuck. You can see this other side of him. You are the exception, and he finds that he likes that.
Sukuna visits the town as often as his ranch duties allow so he can take you on dates. Sometimes, he drives his old pickup truck, but sometimes, he takes his motorcycle, grinning at you when he parks it in front of your house and takes off his helmet, running a hand through his ruffled hair to smooth it down again, and telling you to come hop on so he can take you on a ride. And you raise an eyebrow jokingly,
"When you said you are a cowboy, I pictured a guy on a real horse..."
And there is this happy sparkle in your eyes, and that sweet laugh falling from your lips. And fuck, Sukuna knows he is a lost man.
He grins back at you, leaning down to greet you with a slow, deep kiss before he holds out his helmet to you,
"This cowboy will let you ride his horse soon, too, but for now, let me show you a bit more horsepower."
Sukuna loves the feeling of your body snuggling against his back, your hands wrapped tightly around his waist, your hands caressing his chest and his abs through his shirt, and your loud, excited laugh when Sukuna accelerates his bike and speeds down the dirt road leading to nowhere, leaving a cloud of dust and dirt behind.
Sukuna parks his motorcycle at a pretty pond and spreads out a picnic blanket in the grass. The two of you sit down to eat something, but it only takes a few minutes before the snacks are forgotten, and Sukuna rolls on top of you and kisses you until he feels dizzy, and you sigh into his mouth.
When you look up at him and touch his face, trace his tattoos with your fingertips, and smile at him, Sukuna knows that he has never been this genuinely happy in his life. But at the same time, it scares him. It terrifies him to feel so much.
He strolls down to the pond, smoking a cigarette while looking over the smooth surface of the water, trying to calm down and stop his fears from swallowing him. Trying to stop that voice in his head that whispers to him that this cowboy should do what he is best at and just run and isolate himself and live his life in solitude.
But your sweet laugh carries to Sukuna's ears as you run towards him, pulling him out of his dark thoughts. Your small hand wraps around his tattooed biceps, and you lean against his side,
"Hey cowboy, come back. I have some homemade lemonade and cake in my bag."
Sukuna turns his head to look at you, at the way you tilt your head to smile up at him, eyes full of affection. How could he walk away from this? Yeah, he is scared out of his mind of all those feelings, but he would regret it even more if he ran.
He blows out his cigarette smoke slowly as a lazy grin spreads over his face, and he leans down to press a kiss on your forehead.
"Homemade lemonade? You sure know the way to my heart, huh, princess?"
He lets you take his hand and pull him back to the picnic blanket, sipping your lemonade and letting you climb in his lap and feed him the cake you baked for him, and Sukuna wraps his arms around your waist, capturing your lips in a sweet, sexy kiss, hoping you can understand the silent promises his tongue writes against yours.
All the words he doesn't dare say out loud because they scare him. But Sukuna knows it's you for him. He knows that he wants by his side. He knows you are his girl and hopes he is your boy, too. He hopes he is a man who is deserving of you and your sweetness. Sukuna promises you silently that he will work damn hard to be that man.
It takes weeks before the two of you have sex.
Sukuna takes you on another date with his old truck this time, driving far out to watch the stars with you and lying in the bed of his truck with you in his arms.
He brought you flowers. The wild ones which grow on his ranch because he feels like you enjoy them more than the ones from the flower shops, and it makes him happy to see you with something from his life.
You thanked him with a sweet kiss and put some of the flowers in your hair, laughing when they fell out again, and Sukuna picked them up again and tucked them behind your ear.
And now those flowers are already out of your hair again, strewn all over the truck bed because the two of you are so lost in your deep tongue kisses and the feeling of your bodies grinding against each other.
The flowers are forgotten, just like the stars above. The only thing you know is each other's mouths and hands that tug on each other's clothes, craving more, needing skin-on-skin contact.
Sukuna's shirt has been long gone, and yours too, leaving you only in your lacey bra and the little skirt, driving Sukuna crazy. Your hands explore the naked skin of his broad back and his biceps, and your lips trail sweet kisses down Sukuna's neck, leaving your lipstick marks on him.
And Sukuna licks and kisses the swell of your breasts above your bra, finally pulling the pretty lacey thing down to reveal your even prettier tits. He sucks one nipple into his warm mouth as he looks up at your face, grinning when he sees your eyelashes flutter and hears the cute little noises you make for him.
You straddle Sukuna's lap, smiling at him with desire burning in your eyes while your small hands wander a bit shyly over his tattooed chest, and Sukuna thinks he will lose his mind if he doesn't finally take you.
He flips you over on your back, pushes his head under your skirt, and eats you out until your legs are shaking and your hands tug on his pink hair, and you cry out his name into the night.
You look up at Sukuna with parted lips and heavy-lidded eyes as you unbutton his jeans and get his achingly hard cock out, stroking him lovingly while you tell him to please make you his girl.
Sukuna has held back for so long but cannot do it anymore. Not when you look at him like that and stroke his cock like that and ask him to claim you. He pushes you down on the truck bed, his arms on each side of your head, his heavy body on top of yours, his lips claiming yours in a possessive, hungry kiss at the same time as his cock claims your sweet, warm pussy.
He takes you with hard, rough thrusts, fucking you almost feverishly once he feels your warm pussy around his cock. And for the first time in his life, Sukuna apologizes for the way he fucks. For his roughness, for his strength. But you cling to him and moan his name and tell him it's okay and that you want him exactly like this.
You leave scratches on Sukuna's back, and he fucks his seed into you over and over again. The two of you can't get enough of each other that night, making out and fucking in various positions until the sky becomes pink with the approaching sunrise, and both of you are sated and exhausted, and you slump against Sukuna's body, hugging him, pressing your tits firmly against his tattooed chest as his spent cock softens gradually inside you.
Sukuna lets his head fall back on the truck bed, his large hands lazily caressing your back, and he looks up at the sky that brings a new morning, thinking that it feels like it's a whole new life that is beginning today.
He drives you back to town an hour later, stealing glances at you the whole drive long, one tattooed hand resting on your naked thigh under your skirt, and your small hand lands on top of Sukuna's, caressing the back of his hand while you sing along to the country songs on the radio. Sukuna can't stop grinning the whole time.
But even after you start to have sex with each other, you still take time to get to know each other even better. It's fun and sexy but also deep and meaningful, and Sukuna catches himself being more open with you than he ever was with anyone before.
He tells you the truth when you ask about his family, tells you that it's messy, that he can't even remember his dad, and that his mama didn't want him either. He tells you about his little brother, who he hasn't seen in many years because Sukuna ran from home the moment he was 18. He confesses all the shit he did. All the stupid things a rebellious teenage Sukuna got involved in. All the trouble and pain he caused his family. All the regrets he has, when he looks back at his former life now.
And you take his large hand into both of yours and hold it so gently, and smile that sweet smile at him, telling him that sometimes families simply are like that. A mess.
You tell him that you like him the way he is, with all his rough edges, and that you wish Sukuna had more love in his life when he needed it the most as a child.
"But you have me now, Kuna. And I will make sure you don't feel alone."
You tear down his walls so easily, break him in the most beautiful way, and build him up again, even stronger than before, because now Sukuna knows what it feels like to be loved.
And Sukuna says those famous three words for the first time in his life.
He pulls you to him, holds you in his arms, and rests his chin on your head, swaying you softly from side to side as he murmurs those words into your hair, words he never thought he would say,
"I love you. And I want to be with you. I know it's hard to love a man like me, but I want this to work. I want you. I want us. And I will work hard for it."
He thinks he will melt when you tell him you love him too and that there is nothing hard about loving him at all.
For the first time in his life, Sukuna stays in someone's bed the whole night.
The two of you kiss at your front door, and you gently pull him inside. You kiss and laugh and playfully tease each other all the way to your bedroom, undressing each other on the way, leaving behind a trail of clothes on your floor.
You call him baby, and Sukuna thinks he will go crazy. He picks you up and carries you the rest of the way until he lays you down on your bed, his lips never leaving yours.
You don't fuck that night but make love, nice and slow. You look so beautiful lying under Sukuna, your face so close to his, your small hands caressing his biceps and his muscular back while Sukuna takes you with slow, deep thrusts, unable to tear his gaze away from you and the love in your eyes when you whisper his name.
Sukuna tells you he loves you again when he is about to cum, and it feels more intense than anything else he has ever experienced. Especially when he feels you cum on his cock, too, sobbing his name and returning the "I love you" several times while you shudder in pleasure beneath him.
Sukuna doesn't let go of you the whole night. He lets you use his chest as your pillow, wraps you in his strong arms, and holds you. The wild, freedom-loving cowboy who usually runs, suddenly all tame.
Sukuna thinks he is right where he should be. He wants to stay forever in your bed and in your arms, holding the girl he loves.
Of course, a cowboy like Sukuna has to leave again in the morning. His ranch needs him. There are miles and miles of fences to fix, horses to train, and cattle to herd. But Sukuna promises to call you every night.
"And if I don't have a signal, I want you to know that I will still think of you, okay princess? Let's make a deal. Every night at ten pm, I want you to look at the sky. And I'll do the same, wherever I am, and imagine you are by my side."
And he laughs softly and hugs you to his strong body, adding,
"I will think about you every second of the day anyway. And I am damn sure you can't get me out of your mind either, huh?"
He winks at you and grins his boyish grin, and you chuckle and get on your tiptoes to kiss his grin off him.
Before Sukuna drives off, you give him a leather cord with a small charm in the form of a horseshoe, telling him you saw it on the farmers market last weekend and thought of him.
"I want to give it to you because I hope it will bring you luck and keep you safe out there on all those lonely nights and long rides."
And Sukuna leaves his bandana at your place,
"So you have something to remind you of me while I am away, princess. Wear it around your pretty throat to keep the chilly winds away and to think of your favorite cowboy."
Sukuna calls you every day just like he promised.
But out here on the plains, where Sukuna is on horseback, with only his dog running along beside him, his life still feels lonely. This solitude used to be something Sukuna chose willingly for himself. Something he thought was the only life that was right for a man like him.
But now Sukuna feels this longing inside his chest, and the questions keep filling his mind. Does a cowboy really have to be alone? Does Sukuna really have to be alone?
His ranch and his life out here are the last parts of him, which Sukuna hasn't opened to you yet. It seemed too risky to bring you here, too intimate. This is the place, after all, where Sukuna fled to so he wouldn't hurt his little brother anymore. A place he used to see as some kind of fortress that kept other people safe from Sukuna and also kept him safe from feeling too much. A place where he was free from all the complications of human interactions.
But things have changed, haven't they?
Sukuna visits you as often as he can, and he catches himself telling you more about his everyday life as a cowboy while watching you closely for your reactions. He tells you what he loves about his life on the ranch, tells you that it is a lot of hard work and that it can be tough at times, but that it is also peaceful, and that he likes that he is free out there.
"I like that I am my own boss because I really don't do well with people trying to tell me what to do."
And you laugh and roll your eyes, and Sukuna grins at you with a wink and adds,
"Well, you are the exception, baby."
And as teasing and light-hearted as it sounds, Sukuna knows that he is telling the truth. He doesn't mind if you tell him what to do. He doesn't mind if he has to take responsibility for his actions. Not when it comes to you.
You beam at him and kiss his tattooed cheek and ask in that sweet voice,
"Will you finally show me your ranch, Sukuna?"
And he knows what you are really asking is for Sukuna to finally let you in. To let this last wall tumble to the ground and allow you into his life in every way.
Sukuna feels strangely nervous when driving you to his ranch. But not because he is scared of losing his last refuge. He is nervous because he is worried you won't like the life out here in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but endless miles of uninhabited land around you and only Sukuna and his animals to keep you company.
Sukuna hopes you will like it. Because there is this small voice in his mind that whispers to him, "I want her to stay."
Sukuna watches you carefully while he shows you around his small ranch, showing you the old farmhouse he renovated, the barn he built with his own hands, and the stables he gave a new paint and a modern interior.
Relief floods Sukuna's chest when he sees the genuine smile on your pretty face and the joy when you pet his favorite horse. You turn to him, telling him that you love his ranch and praising him for turning an old abandoned farm into this pretty place.
"You are so passionate about the things you want, Sukuna, and you work hard for them. That's an admirable trait. This place is beautiful."
Sukuna smirks proudly at you, feeling this warmth in his chest again. He wraps a strong, tattooed arm around your waist and pulls you against him. And he knows exactly what he wants.
"This place is even more beautiful with you here. You remember what I said about enjoying my freedom out here? I feel free with you by my side, too. It doesn't feel like I am giving anything up when I am with you. It feels like I am gaining something."
There are happy tears shining in your eyes when you look up at him, and you smile and put a small hand on Sukuna's defined chest, right where his heart is beating strong and fast,
"I would love to live here with you, cowboy. I could help you with the crops and make sure you always have something warm to eat when you come home in the evening. I could even help with the horses and the cows, I think. And I can keep you company out here and keep you warm at night."
Sukuna doesn't believe in a God, but he thinks some kind of higher power or fate or whatever must have finally blessed him. Must have finally allowed a fallen angel like him some sort of heaven, too.
Sukuna smiles at you, a gentle, genuine smile that he never gives to anyone else, and he takes his cowboy hat off and puts it carefully onto your head,
"Then welcome to your new home, cowgirl."
SIGHHHHH, this cowboy makes me swoon đđđđ I didn't expect this story to become so long, but I just couldn't stop writing. It was one of those moments where Sukuna took things into his hands and made me tell the whole story, and of course I do what my man wants ;)
I hope you enjoyed falling in love with Cowboy!Sukuna, too đ
Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.
There will be a Part 2 in which we see our life on Sukuna's ranch.
And once again: Thank you Ămilie @sweetlandspos for drawing your beautiful and sexy Cowboy!Sukuna, who inspired me to write this AU!! I hope you find joy in this story!!
#sukuna x reader#sukuna fluff#sukuna smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#jjk smut#jjk fluff#jjk x y/n
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Too Close To Touch // SEVEN
warning: violence
âNick, please, letâs talk about this.â You plead to your brother as he pulls you by the wrist into the dressing room, closing the door behind you. He was too quiet and you didnât like seeing this side of him. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. âY/N, why were you kissing Noah? I thought you couldnât stand him.â He says. âThatâs not true.â You spat, sounding a little too defensive. âOkay, heâs the one who had a grudge against you but, Iâm just not understanding how all that tension between you two ended up being sexual.â He stares at you, looking genuinely confused. âDonât say it like that.â You cringed. You forget that your brother didnât know the extent of your and Noahâs relationship. He doesnât even know that the two of you dated three years back.
 Props to Jolly for covering that up.
âI thought Noah was always like a brother to you. You two were close until you suddenly stopped talking. Now Ruffilo is beating him up? His best friend? You tell me everything Y/N, what arenât you telling me?â
Your brother was always understanding. He was your Switzerland. The Yin to your Yang. âI-I like him, Nick. I think I always have.â
âWe got that much, Y/N. Even when you two were younger, he always asked about you, he always watched you while you were in the room. He always made sure you were the first to eat at gatherings. You never noticed it, but I did. Thatâs why I didnât flip out when I found out you two were kissing outside. Noahâs in love with you.â
You felt a lump in your throat as you looked at your brother. You werenât convinced. âLove is an exaggeration, Nick. Infatuated yes, but I donât know about love.â You tilted your head. âI know how broken he was about losing you 3 years ago.â
Your heart may as well have stopped when your brother said this. âWhat are you talking about?â You say, barely above a whisper. He leans against the door, tilting his head upward. âCâmon, we were all living together at the time Y/N. He came back home and his eyes were puffy. Tried to push it off as allergies. âhe chuckles at the last word.
So he was upset? He didnât even say a word when he left that day. âHe locked himself in his room and he didnât come out for two days, Y/N.â
Why didnât Jolly tell you any of this? âWanna know the best part too?â He adds, taking a step towards you. âWhen he did, eventually come out, he had 3 songs written with them, one of them was called âJust Pretend.â
You couldnât handle this. You know how much passion Noah puts into the lyrics of his songs. The idea that Just Pretend, their most successful, most intimate song, most sad, and most personal song, one youâve been ending each show with every night, was about you.
âI know how you two feel about another. Thatâs why Noah didnât fight back when Ruffilo started beating him up. â Folio explains.
âWhat?â You ask, confused at what he meant. âY/N, Ruffilo is half Noahâs size. If Noah wanted to defend himself or even throw a few punches back, he could have.â
âThen why didnât he?â You retort, in disbelief of this man. âProbably because he didnât want to come off as violent, given how heâs been treating you this past month.â
You felt your stomach just drop. All the way down to your toes as your mouth fell agape. âWhere is he?â You asked. Folio shrugs, âJolly went after him but no one texted me yet. â He explains checking his phone. You pushed past your brother, going back to the outside alley where the fight happened to see Matt and Ruffilo still standing there. You were fuming. You were upset. You were angry.
You walk straight up to Ruffilo. âWhy the fuck did you do that?â
âY/N donât start.â He retorts. âHe didnât deserve any of that Nick!â You exclaim pointing to where Noah had stormed off. âNot only did you beat the shit out of your best friend but you slut shamed the fuck out of me for something that you have no business speaking on!â You yell.
Ruffilo fell silent. âOur relationship hasnât impacted the performance of this band ONCE. You were already getting on him about bitching about having me substitute for my brother, and then you give him shit about attempting to save the reputation of the band by keeping us a secret, because he knew the minute he would have the balls to tell you about us then you would have kicked his ass. And look what happened!â You yell pointing to the spots of blood on the pavement from Noahâs face. You donât even give him time to respond before you storm off towards where Noah and Jolly had disappeared.
It didnât take you long to find them at all. They didnât make it very far. You go around the side of the building to see Jolly standing over Noah, who was sat on the ground with his head resting against the brick building and his eyes closed. Jolly saw you approaching them and he tapped Noah on the shoulder. âHey.â He says. Noah opened his eyes and locks eyes with you before waving weakly. âAre you okay?â You asked him, squatting down to his level. âIâm fine. My face has seen better days though.â He admits, chuckling with a sad sigh. His lip started swelling and the blood began to dry, his eye started bruising ever so slightly at the corner. âIs Folio upset?â Jolly prys. You shake your head looking down. âNo. I kind of bitched out Ruffilo though, I walked away before I gave him time to respond.â You cringed.
Noah chuckled, his brown hair slightly falling in his eyes before tilting his chin up. âWe have a show in less than an hour, I hope we can get this fixed before then.â Jolly sighs. âIâll be back with the rest.â He ushers his head back around the building, leaving just Noah and I.
A comfortable silence filled the air before you sit cross-legged in front of Noah. âIâm sorry.â He whispers. âI donât see what you have to be sorry for.â You responded. He shrugs, playing with the bracelets around his wrist. âI guess I kind of deserved that beating.â
âNo. Donât even try to excuse what Nick did. He had no right to come at you like that. It was childish. He could have really hurt you.â
He looks down before clearing his throat. âItâs been a long time coming with him Y/N. Heâs acting like a protective older brother Iâll admit I donât handle my emotions very well.â
âIs that why you wrote Just Pretend?â
You could see that comment struck a nerve. He stopped playing with his bracelets and he wouldnât take his eyes off the ground. âWhereâd you hear that?â He scoffs. âNoah, I know youâve lied to me about a lot of shit, but for the love of god please donât lie to me about this one.â You practically beg him. His eyes slowly work their way up to yours, and they were glossy. âThree years ago, I tried everything in my power to make you leave me.â He admits.
Your eyebrows burrowed with confusion. âWhy?â
âBecause I had a feeling if three years ago I couldnât balance my bands popularity, how the hell was I going to handle it now?â
You remained silent as he contninued,
âI figured if I could make you the bad guy, it would save me the trouble of having to break your heart. After that night, when I left, I went home, and I wrote. I wrote Just Pretend about you. I needed to get it out somehow. If I had gotten it out on paper, recorded it and produced it. Then I wouldnât have my feelings for you pent up and I wouldnât have to deal with the repercussions.â
To be continued....
Authors note: This was a tough one babies. Lemme know what you think about it :")
#bad omens#bad omens fanfiction#jolly karlsson#nick folio#nick ruffilo#noah sebastian#badomenscult#too close to touch#@flowery mess#@lizzyanthony3#@darkmxgician
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Talk Too Much
TWICEâs Myoi Mina x Male Reader
5.4k words
Part One of Untitled Mina Series
Talk Too Much | Be Sweet
Title inspired by COINâs Talk Too Much

Sometimes, you just have to say the thought that lingers in your mind out loud. Maybe itâs a form of resistance, standing up for yourself. Maybe itâs a proclamation of love. In your case, itâs something thatâs going to lighten someoneâs day up.
A tongue click. âLooking spicy today, boss. Iâm burning because of ya.â
She glances back, not wavered by your words. Her strides remain calm, walking towards her office with a lethal poise. A smirk appears on her face. A scoff is heard from her lips. And she just looks away.
Maybe you can ramp it up next time.
â
The work day plays out as usualâemails, messing around with Figma, interviewing users. You put in your best like youâve always been doing. Itâs exhausting, surely, but you take some pride in giving your all like this. Youâre proud of yourself.
In a heartbeat, the short clock hand teases the number five. The sun casts orange hue all over the office, gleaming it with the tranquil of the evening, ready to collapse under the weight of workers heading home. You sit in your seat, analyzing your customerâs answers from the morning. Your questions are clever, youâve been told. Extracting usersâ needs is your expertise, and you couldnât be moreâ
A Slack notification appears.
Myoi Mina
Meet me in my office before you go home. Iâll clock you in for overtime.
Damn, another late evening.Â
You let out a sigh, leaning back against the chair. Your eyes glance towards her office. She remains fixated on her computer, typing out something. Her posture remains as confident as ever, even in her chairâstraightened back, determined eyes. Sheâs just untouchable.
Oh, to make her crumble under your body.
â
âSo, you do know the reason youâre in here, right?â Mina asks, tapping her Caran dâAche on the tableâsteady, expressionless. You sit in your seat, raising your eyebrows. Itâs probably nothing much. You know her.
You take a careless guess, âExtra prep for tomorrowâs interviews?â putting one leg on top of the other. Your hand thrums restlessly on your thigh, foot tapping on the floor.
âNo interviews tomorrow. Iâve pushed it to Wednesday in case you become too,â she says, tilting her head slightly, âdrained.â
You let out a chuckle, crossing your arms together on your chest. âCome on, boss, you know I never get tired. I once did twenty interviews in a day!â
Mina scoffs, a small smile escapes her lips. âAnd I admire that. Still, Iâm certain that this is going to be the new extreme for you.â
You raise your eyebrows. This is intriguing. Maybe this will get you a promotion. âWell, whatever it is, Iâm ready.â
Mina nods approvingly, with a slight upturn on her lips. âYou have a lot of tangible qualities. Weâd be pleased to have more employees like you, really.â
Safe to say that lights up a smile on your face. âIâm flattered, boss.â
âIâm happy that weâve come to this conclusion. Now, letâs get back to our topic.â
She rises from her chair, sauntering around the table. Her motion is reserved. Every step is careful. She settles in the space between you and her wooden table before setting herself on it.Â
She looks down at you, smirking. Her flowery scent hits your nose. Heat builds up within your body. You stare into her eyes, and youâre sure that sheâs inviting your gazeâthe fire in her eyes, the slightly louder breathing than usual, the upturn of her lips, so you let your eyes wander. That slightly creased white shirt is so tempting, a deep neckline thatâs just begging for you to rip it apart. Her belt, leather black, itâd sure look good on her wrists while you ruin her. The black skirt drapes over her legs nicely. If it would be just a few inches shorter.
You just canât resist the temptations anymore. Your cock is fucking straining in your pants.
âGod, youâre just smoking hot, Mina.â
It finally slips out.
Mina chuckles, covering her mouth. She leans forward just a little, enough to reveal the curves of her bra-clad cleavage. Oh, to rip it off and feast on her nipples while she moans like a slut under you. You reach out to her neckline, teasing it gentlyâcotton. Your fingers slide towards that top button, ready to undo it and free her from the confines of her clothes. Just imagine fucking her senseless in her own office, pressing her face against the table while you rut into her tight ass like youâve always wished. You just have all the power in the world right now.
âTell me,â Mina says, tilting your chin up, her body shivering slightly at your teasing. Youâre affecting her, âwhat have you been wanting to do to me?â
You look into her eyes. Theyâre burning, and you canât just contain your ferocity anymore.
âIâve always wanted to take you, especially in this room, baby. Every time you walk past me, I just want to rip whatever youâre wearing and bury myself in your ass. God, youâre just begging to be fucked with it. I wanna know how that tight ass feels around my cock, and Iâm going to cum inside while youâre just my little slut.â
Mina chuckles as the first button comes off, showing more of the breathtaking curves of her tits. You trail lower for the second, with a scorching need to expose every inch of her porcelain skin.
âThatâs rather ⊠explicit, donât you think?â Mina says coyly, scratching your chin gently with her fingers. More buttons slowly come off with your hand. Sheâs just letting you do anything. Youâre the one in control here.
âYour orders, baby,â you reply, smirking all assuredly. You lean closer towards her chest, taking in that flowery scent of her body. Your hand undoes the last button of her shirt, and the edge of it falls along with the gravity. Sheâs exposed, all for you to touch.
Mina smiles, satisfied with your assertions. âWould you mind taking my skirt off first? Thereâs something Iâve been wanting to show you.â
Oh, to finally see her ass after years of ogling on it, wishing to clap it against your thighs.
Your hand glides down towards her belt, undoing it with ease, as if itâs a practiced move. She lets out a pleased hum as the belt comes offâanother layer of obstruction gone. You then reach for the zipper of her skirt, eager to pull it down. The air is thick with tension, ready to snap at any second. You couldnât be more prepared to make her your cumdump.
âCome on, baby. Donât you wanna see the surprise?â Mina huffs, hand trembling under your chin.
You chuckle. âGood things come to those who wait.â
Your fingers find her zipper, before pulling it down gently. The sound of it just almost breaks youâso intense, so irresistible.
Until it reaches the bottom stop. The clicking sound elicits a smile from the two of you.
âWhat are you waiting for?â Mina quips.
Without another word, you grab the waistband of her frustratingly long skirt. Fucking finally. Her ass is yours.
And you pull it down.Â
What the fuck?
Itâs a fucking strap-on.
Your mouth hangs open in shock. Strange? Peculiar? Bizarre? Those words cannot describe the sheer astonishment you feel on whatâs under her skirt. You try to say something, but nothing comes out of your mouth. Your body freezes, unable to make sense of the black cock poking into your face, only shivering with what youâre unable to process. Youâre supposed to be the one using a cock here!
Mina runs her hand in your hair, playing with locks and curls on your head. You hear a soft giggle from above, but your focus remains on her throbbing plastic cock. Images of what she could do with it flash into your head. Youâre pinned against the door, defenseless, as her cock drills into your ass rhythmically. Wet clapping sounds echo through the roomâmight even leak out to the main office. Lube drips down your thighs onto the floor. The room reeks of sweat, sex, and your perfumes blended together. She gives your ass a slap, and your moan becomes a melody for the entire floor.
And more.
Your face is pressed onto her stack of documents on the table, body shaking with her cock splitting you open. A pool of cum sits at the door. Youâre oversensitive from your first orgasm, but she keeps attacking your prostate with an unmatched precision. Sweat drips down your forehead, ruining the papers with your mark of submission. âOh, youâre ruining the next meetingâs plans!â Mina chides, without any signs of halting her barrage. Sheâs just wasting papers printing these out.
And more. This is just embarrassing, staring at her cock and imagining how it could ruin you into a slut.
Your leg is raised in the air. Itâs for easier access, Mina saidâshouldâve kept yourself more flexible. Another pool of cum sits under her desk, not as much as the one at the door, sadly. Mina thrusts into you relentlessly, nails digging into your skin. Your face is pressed against the window, all visible for the workers going home to see. It creaks slightly with her motion. âIâm going to clean my window with your cum, well, if youâre not drained yet at this point.â
Youâre fucked.
âDo you think black fits me? Iâm pretty bad with colors, so Iâd like some external inputs.â
And why the fuck are you still hard?
You look up at her, finding a smile so full of kindnessâthe kind of smile parents use to assure their children. Itâs supposed to be warm. Itâs supposed to be calming, but youâre fucking certain that thereâs nothing but sin in her heartâlust with a tinge of pride, to be more specific.
âIâll take that as a yes, glad that you love it,â Mina says, ruffling your hair softly. You just canât process this anymoreâso foolish with human dynamics. Your control is demolished the instant that her cock springs free, imagining the ways she can ruin youâagainst the door, on the table (on top of that, her meeting documents), against the window, cock dangling pathetically and giving everybody below a free show.
Suddenly, she grips a handful of your hair, not harsh, but effectively locking your eyes on hers. She leans in a little closer. You can see the small wrinkles under her eyes, the small pimples on her forehead, the streak on her lips. Her minty breaths brush against your face. It makes her more human, less of a Hel. Somehow, though, that just makes her more terrifying.
Humans shouldnât be capable of wielding this kind of terror.
âSo, I have lube under my desk, just for cases like this. Off-document disciplinary sessions, you know?â Mina says with a chuckle, eyes so full of faux-compassion. âAlthough Iâm in the mood for trying something new.â
You can only gulp. Mind races with the possibilities of how sheâll make your ass ready for her cock. Honey? Vaseline? Condensed milk? A bead of sweat falls down from your forehead. Your body trembles in her hold. The scent of her body overwhelms you. You canât think straight anymore.
âI did say that you possess a lot of tangible qualities, right?â
You sheepishly nod, barely prepared for her next words. Itâs just all dread, no room for any levity.
âWell, thereâs one thing that has been an ongoing problem with youâ â and she leans closer to your ears, still on the desk â âyou just donât know when to shut the fuck up.â
The realization hits.
You are a bitch. All this time, youâve been a foul-mouthed fucker whoâs practically begging to be put in his place. Everybody has grown tired of you, but no one dared to take any action. Those boundary breaches, those uncalled-for teases, those flirty incitements, they were tabbed. And now, itâs time for you to pay it up.
âTherefore, you and your mouth need to be taught a lesson, one thatâs going to stick.â
Mina gets down from her table, standing up straightâresolute. Her white top hangs open, all unbuttoned, but still as classy as always. Her black, artificial cock stands tall, ready to take on your fuckholes without any mercy.
âKneel, please.â
Trembling, you get up from the chair. Youâre a little taller than her, but that means nothing with her having everything in her hand like this. You feel reluctant to get down; a part of you hasnât given up yet.Â
But an order is an order.
You sink to your knees, her throbbing cock in your face. Itâs so close. The scent of her perfume and sweat wafts into your nose. Your hands tremble. Your body shakes with dread. Your stomach churns.
Youâre hard, though.
âOpen your mouth.â
Your lips part slightly, barely ready for her relentless violation. She grabs a handful of your hair with one hand, the other aiming her cock towards your mouth. Your mouth quivers in fear. The air is thick with anticipationâthe way sheâs going to feel in your mouth, the way itâs going to hit the back of your throat, the way that you might cum pitifully from sucking her cock alone.
You flinch at the first touch of her tip on your lips. Itâs so cold, so synthetic. Mina pushes it inside further, parting you more. Your body writhes as her width spreads your mouth out. Itâs so big. Too big. The air becomes herâher sweat, her perfume, her cock. You feel nauseous from the revolting taste of plastic. Itâs unlike anything youâve ever savored. Consider it a new experience. She pushes more, and itâs starting to trigger your gag reflex. You spasm uncontrollably, making retching sounds in your throat. This is too much for you, but thereâs still a few centimeters left. She drills it in, and her cock begins to stretch out the back of your throat. Sheâs just too big for you. Your hands seek grips by your side. You settle on her thighs. Your eyes flutter. You canât breathe. Fuck. And with one final push, sheâs at the hilt. Your throat is fucking ruined. The sound of your breath against her body rings in your ears.
Fuck.
Youâre just a toy for her now.
âHow was it?â Mina scoffs, running her fingers through your hair. You try to focus on her eyes, but her cock is buried so deep in your mouth it robbed a handful of your senses awayâvision included. So, you just give her thighs a few squeezes.
Mina giggles, relishing in the scene of her employee getting his mouth fucked out like this. âOh, I donât know morse code, baby. I think youâll have to use your mouth.â
Of course, she presses you harder into her cock.
Your body writhes violently in her hold. You canât breathe on her hips. Your eyes are fluttering, and theyâre getting all teary. Youâre just a lump of flesh, begging to be used and abused.
Suddenly, she lets go. Your head springs off, nape landing on the chairâs edge. It stings, but that canât compare to the happiness you feel when a puff of air hits your lungs again. A relieved smile escapes your lips. You look up into Minaâs eyes. She smirks, and theyâre still gleaming with feigned compassion. Drool falls off your lips onto your clothes, onto the floor. Youâre a mess. Itâs all dirty, but thatâs the last of your priorities.
âSorry, didnât see my cock in your mouth earlier,â she says, smiling shyly.
You say nothing, still trying to catch your breath. Your heart races in your chest. Your body aches with humiliation. The synthetic taste of her cock lingers in your mouth, and youâre sure that youâre going to remember this for a long time.
Mina squats down, hand reaching out for your lips. You can only smile wearily against the chair, mind all scattered. She wipes the mess on your lips away, cleaning your face with her delicate hand. For one second, it feels so soothing, and you think that itâd be better if this is genuine. You can feel your smile widening, face shifting closer towards her fingers, nuzzling against them. Itâs just so affectionate that you forget how she fucked your face mere seconds ago.
You hear Mina chuckle. Itâs probably amusing her to see her boytoy loving her touches like this. She continues to wipe the remnants of spit off your face like a baby. No chastising. No mocking. Just pure warmth. Each stroke only makes you sink deeper into comfort that you forget youâre going to be facefucked by her in just a minute. You just try to cling on to something, and thereâs nothing wrong with it.
Oh, she just broke you into pieces.
Finally, she lets go of your face, leaving you cold on the floor again. Your head rests against the chairâspent. Your spasms subside as your body finally finds its rhythm once more. Your breathing comes back to normal.
Mina smiles, before asking, âWhat do good boys say after they get something?â
âThank you.â It slips off your debauched lips so easily.
âThank you, who?â She presses into the tip of your nose lightly with a smile that just makes you melt.
âThank you, Miss Myoi!â
The answer brings out a chuckle from Minaâs lips. She just looks so happy. âAh, youâre close! Again, thank you, who?â
This isnât just a quick patch, itâs a whole revamp on your brain.
âThank you, mommy!â
It plagues your veins. Itâs buried in your heart. Itâs tattooed on your skinâpermanent.
âGood boy.â She smiles, and you earn another ruffle in your hair.
Thereâs no coming back from this.
âNow, Iâm going to stand up, alright? Donât worry, mommyâs not going anywhere,â Mina says, cupping your cheek.Â
âYes, mommy,â you reply, nuzzling and whimpering against her palm.
The comfort on your face is short-lived as she stands up, and you can only whine in disappointment. She towers over you once more. Her cock dangles just a few centimeters away from your face, so slick with your filthy drool. It wants you to suck again, suck on it until your mommy cums, and youâre ready to have your breath taken away for her pleasure.
Voice still honeyed, Mina says, âTime to get up, baby boy. Time to put that mouth to use.â
In a haste, you get up to your knees again. The synthetic smell of her cock hits your nose, but you donât feel so disgusted by it like you did mere minutes ago. Instead, you part your lips instinctively, becoming a willing boytoy for her. Your eyes look up into Minaâs eyes, begging her to bury her cock in your mouth.
âAw, Iâm so proud of you. Youâre such a perfect slut for mommy, ready to suck my cock like this,â Mina praises, pushing herself forward. A smile escapes your eager lips. Youâre so close to feeling her again.Â
She grabs a handful of your hair, a little lighter than last time, and she guides you towards her cock. You stretch your mouth wider, readying yourself for her crushing width. Your throat relaxes. Youâre going to take all of her in your mouth like a good little slut.
âSay ah,â Mina tells you.
âAh âŠâ
Your body doesnât jolt the instant her tip touches your lips. Youâre doing better. Her cock invades more and more of your mouth, filling it with its plastic taste, poking the back of your throat. Your body begins to shake as your breathing becomes difficult. Your eyes roll into the back of your head. The scent of her perfume and her cock fill your nostrils. And in a heartbeat, you take all of her.
At the hilt, you can barely breathe. Your eyes flutter with the overwhelming size of her cock. You can only cling on to her thighs pathetically. Her nails bury deep in your hair. The feeling, though, itâs neither rejection nor disdain. Itâs acceptance and pride. Youâre at peace with how your body was made for her cock. Youâre at peace with how you were born to be her slut.
And you couldnât be happier.
Suddenly, the grip in your hair tightens, making you wince around her cock in pain. Your toe curls at the nerve-snapping sensation. Your fingers dig into her thighs. She begins to grind her hips against your face. Your throat makes guttural, animalistic sounds as her tip grinds the back of it. Youâve never heard that before. Your eyes quiver with the rolling of her hips. Everything is so blurry now. Tears form in your eyes. Your nose gets squished on her waist as she moves. Your lungs are begging for air, but it's so hard to breathe. Itâs suffocating. You panic.
âWhatâs the matter, baby boy? Canât breathe?â Mina asks, voice so fucking full of smugness. The answer is up for your grasp, if not for the black plastic cock stuffing your mouth like this.
She continues to grind her hips against your mouth, fucking your face at a tempo only she can hear. Your breathing remains lacking in any kind of rhythm.Â
Someoneâs probably into it.
But not you.
Oh, and she just moaned for the first time in the evening. She grinds herself deeper, having that G-spot pleasured at a little cost of silencing that trigger-happy mouth.
âYour lack of manners wonât be tolerated, baby boy. You donât let the adults do the talking alone.â Mina scolds, but her hips remain pressed against your ruined, spit-soaked face. She moans again, finally getting the insides of her properly fucked. The scents of her and plastic consume you like a hypnosis. Sheâs fucking your face, and thereâs nothing you can do about it.
Thankfully, she pushes your head back, leaving just her tip resting inside your mouth, and you know damn well enough to take a deep breath. It smells disgusting, blighting your lungs and blood vessels with a scorching plague, but itâs better than suffocation. Spit coats her cock, glistening it under the evening sunlight. It drips down to the floorâthe first mark of filth in this office. Your eyes shoot up to Mina, whoâs still giving you an infuriatingly warm smile.
She just wonât let you go so easily.
Mina laughs, still manages to keep that kind-and-loving façade after fucking your mouth open.
Twice.
She squints as she smiles, pulling your cheeks lovingly like youâre a child. Your body is still spasming, throat fucked-out. Your vision is all blurry with your tears. Your lips quiver against the head of her cock. Though, if she revels in having you like this, who are you to argue?
âThat was so great, baby. Mommyâs gonna cum if you keep this up,â Mina praises, ruffling your hair fondly. You can feel warmth glowing around her body again. You know itâs a devious manipulation. Youâre not supposed to fall for it, but your heart has already yielded, âand youâre going to be a cock-drunk mess by the time weâre done. How does that sound? Do you wanna make mommy cum?â
Your breathing slowly stabilizes. Your sight becomes clearer. Itâs coming back. Itâs your brief reprieve, and youâre cherishing every second of it, knowing how Mina can just rob it in a matter of seconds. She meets your gaze, anticipating an answer. The thought of your throat being used vigorously shouldnât entice you this much. But with your cock twitching in your pants like this, you can only do the best you canâa whimper.Â
âAw, youâre so cute!â Mina says, pouting, pulling on your cheeks again. Itâs so affectionate, so blissful, and suddenly, you feel safe with her once more. You nuzzle against her soft palm feebly, letting out a string of whimpers against the tip of her cock. The smell of the officeâs hand soap fills your nostrils. Your toes are still twitching softly in the aftershocks. The remnants of her skull-fucking linger in your bones, reminding you of the woman you belong to.
âNow, say the magic word first, and Iâll fuck that mouth of yours.â Mina coos, hand cupping your cheeks. Her skin still feels so smooth against your face, so warm.
Your mind blanks against her cock. Whatâs the magic word?
Mina seems to notice, letting out a soft chuckle as your brain goes into request timeout. âWhen good boys want something, what do they say?â
Oh, that word.
âPlease?â
âPlease, who?â she presses. She needs you to say it. It is just overkill at this point, but youâre too broken for any kind of resistance.
âPlease, mommy!â
Minaâs smile grows, satisfied with you. âGood boy!â she says, and she lets her hand run through the locks and curls of your hair. She feels how your hair brushes against her skin. She feels your warmth in her hand. She feels how youâre awfully, utterly fucking hers.
And here comes another afterlife-teasing session.
She grabs your hairânot painful, not nerve-snapping, but enough to yank your head back and forth. Your mouth is stretched open by her cock, as she ravishes your throat again. Youâre pushed against her hips, forehead pressing on her taut stomach, hands gripping on her thighs. Your body convulses, fighting for air as your nose inhales nothing but the synthetic smell of her cock. Your toes curl in your shoes. Your knees hurt. Your eyes flutter. Itâs a physical struggle.Â
But a mental nirvana.
With her cock, itâs not an immediate fondness. The shock of seeing that strap for the first time still lingers in your head, if faintly. But with how she just slowly breaks you down from that point, itâs calculated. Itâs masterful. Your brain fully knows that itâs a manipulation, a slow, torturous one, but your heart just canât resist. The way she takes control of your head, the way her cock stabs the back of your throat, the way she praises you and degrades you, theyâre just irresistible.
In short, youâre her nasty little slut.
âSo hungry for mommyâs cock, arenât you?â Mina asks, pressing you firmly against her leather. Her cock is already poking the back of your throat. Itâs activating your gag reflex over and over. You make bestial, pornographic noises from your vocal chords. They echo in your ears, displacing the silence in the room, and it just fills you with an insurmountable amount of dread.
And she pulls back, leaving just the tip resting between your swollen lips. More drool falls to the floor. Your body trembles. Your toe curls. Your stomach churns.
âLook up here. I wanna see those pretty eyes while I fuck you.â
You struggle to meet her eyes, still fluttering in the mind-breaking sensations, so she tips your chin up slightly. And when you find her gaze, itâs still so full of that deceitful kindness. Thereâs comfort to it, just that her actions are a tad violent.
âMaking eye contact with the people you talk to is important, you know? It would show that youâre giving your attention to them,â Mina says, and you just whimper feebly as a response.
âOh, yes, fucking your mouth. Totally forgot about that.â
She plunges her length into you, stretching those cock-craving lips open. You flinch slightly. No throat poking this time, and you donât gag as much as you did. Your grips on her thighs relax, not digging so deep as before. And she pulls back. Breathing becomes easier like this, small margin, but anything is better than suffocation. You do your absolute best to keep your eyes on hers. Another thrust, another recoil, and Mina begins to moan.Â
Your mouth can be used for good, after all.
She probably finds that it would be a little bullshit to start slow, considering that she pressed your face against her waist more than twice. Thatâs the tempo. She yanks your head back and forth around her cock, and sheâll moan every time it stretches your mouth openâso raw, so guttural.
You wince every time she thrusts her length into your pesky mouth, but youâre adjusting to it. Itâs like you have a choice, after all. Youâre living with it. You place your tongue on the underside of her cock, trying not to resist, trying to make it easy for the two of you. Your hands slide up her thighs, making her moans grow louder.
âShouldâve known how to shut your fucking mouth earlier, because, god, youâre such a perfect cocksleeve,â Mina says, voice cracking a little. Sheâs getting weaker. Sheâs getting lost in pleasure, but you just canât do shit about thatâtoo busy sucking fake dick overtime, at least you get money for this. âTwo birds with one stone, you know? Just one cock for you to shut the fuck up and for me to cum.â
You whimper weakly against her length, attempting to keep that precious eye contact. Itâs hard, though, when she just keeps yanking your head back and forth like this. Your hands slide towards her backside, finding that plump, muscular ass you were dying to clap your thighs against (well, before an executive decision says that your mouth looks better when fucked).
âYeah, Iâve heard that before. I do jump squats,â Mina huffs between the filthy moans. Your spit is out of control at this point. An entire pool forms in the suffocating space between you and herâa mark of your submission. You make desperate gagging sounds against her length. The plastic taste of it fills your mouth. Your air is her. Just herâher sweat, her plastic cock, her perfume. You fight through your tears to look her in the eyes. Oh, and itâs fucking beautiful.
Everything is fucking beautiful.
Minaâs moans begin to climb the scale. Her grip on your hair tightens, yanking you harsher than ever. Her ass clenches in your palms. Her breathing quickens. A bead of sweat falls on your head. This is itâthe moment youâve been waiting forâfrom the first moment you see her strap, from the first throat fucking, from the first utterance of âmommyâ. Myoi Mina, your boss, your mommy, your fucking everything, is going to cum from fucking your face.
Put it in your rĂ©sumĂ©: Myoi Minaâs whore.
It begins with how her body stiffens, with a loud, guttural groan that escapes her mouth. You are at the tip of her cock, and you shouldâve expected her to push you onto her hips, to feel her rhythm, her trembling, her unravelling. Air is knocked out of your lungs at the instant your nose is pressed against the leather. Her body arches, half-collapsing onto the edge of her desk. She can barely hold it together. Your lips are stretched around the base of her strap, savoring that disgusting plastic taste. Her ass tightens in your hands. Your gagging sounds blend with her moans. Everything is exploding.
A fracture appears. Minaâs eyes flutter in the wake of her ecstasy. Her head falls backwards as she buries herself in your face through her high. Sheâs lost. Sheâs lost in the pleasure, succumbing to the sweetness of her orgasm. Itâs a reminder of her mortality. Sheâs not a goddess. Sheâs vulnerable. She can break, just like you.
But god, you would trade everything if it means that you are hers. Plus, two jobs at a single companyâUI designer and your bossâ slut.Â
HRs love it.
It abates, eventually. Mina catches her breath quickly, gazing down at you to watch her own destruction. Your face remains stuck to her hips, head tilting to the side just a little to gather that treasured air into your lungs. You shake, aftershocks linger. Your hands are pressed between her ass and the table. She looks at you, smiling, so proud of you. Her hands run through your hair one last time, feeling the mess she made, before dragging you off her cock. Spit falls to the ground, but youâre too exhausted to care. You get a good look at herâher eyes, her smile. Sheâs satisfied. Sheâs fulfilled. All because of you.
âYou did so well for mommy,â Mina says, voice cracking a little. She cups your face lovingly, and you canât help but to nuzzle against her palm, letting out a soft whimper. She just feels so warm, and you figure you must cling to her. You must cling to her for your dear life. âWeâre halfway there already.â
Halfway there.
One hole down, one more to go.
Anything for your mommy.
â
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2 WITH LEONA 2 WITH LEONA PRETTY PLEASE
hundreds by my hand
leona wasn't one for grand gestures, flowery words, and gentle smiles. you knew that well, knew that in the way he'd save you a meal when you worked late in the night, ordered takeout or threatened azul to make and save you a whole platter of your favourite foods.
and yet, you were shifting through a stack of letters you'd fund while cleaning his room with him, the accursed mess-maker now lounging comfortably on a pillow you'd dusted for him. "this is ridiculous." you started, counting softly the number of letters in your hand and your lap. "you wrote all of these?"
"actin' like i can't write at all." leona grumbles from his spot.
"no, i'm acting like you wouldn't be bothered, love." a tug at a letter. "you sealed these too?"
the way leona's ears twitched betrayed him. he turned his face away, annoyed by how smug the bastard he was so in love with sounded (at least that's what you think he's thinking in his head). "if youâre gonna complain, hand âem back."
"oh, no, no, no. i'm gonna read all of them." you pull as many letters as you can close to your chest. "i will."
"you're the only reason i put up with half the nonsense i do. if you left, i'd probably burn this whole damn school down." a beat of silence as you look at him, and then, a slow smirk.
"you are so fucking, ridiculously in love with me."
leona clicked his tongue, arms crossed over his chest. "love letters are old-fashioned, but iâd still write a hundred for you." his voice was gruff, but the quiet sincerity in it made you falter.
"âŠI think Iâd read every single one. thank you, leona."

HI HI WIFE DID YOU LIKE IT <3 || 290 words
#oh pretty soul!#twst#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#leona kingscholar#twst leona#leona twst#leona x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#leona x yuu#leona x mc
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â i believe in a thing called love
SUMMARY : dean thinks youâre playing a game but he slowly realises youâre not.Â
PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader
CHARACTERS : none
WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), unprotected piv, oral (f. receiving), fingering, edging, praise kink?, horninessÂ
WORD COUNT : 4.2k
A/N : title from a song by the darkness. this fills the square amnesia for my @jacklesversebingo card. Iâm sorry yall, I like cliffhangers đ (but thereâs a part two coming, yay!)
You donât remember ever waking up to a more warm and pleasant morning.
Usually, you woke up after sleeping however many hours you could have, and always felt like it wasnât enough. Your eyes burned with sleepiness, your body felt heavy with fatigue, and your mind was clouded with the darkness of unconsciousness.
Not this morning.
You felt light and warm, like the vapour of your too-hot shower. Your bed was soft and your sheets smelled of sweet and flowery fabric softener.Â
You opened your eyes to a room blanketed in complete darkness. There was not a window in sight for sunlight to slither into and your stomach sank slightly when you realised that you didnât know where you were. Or how you got to where you were now.
Your nakedness beneath soft, thin sheets made you feel vulnerable. You pulled the sheets up your body and started to get out of bed, only for the sheets to catch on something. No, on someone. A man who groaned gravelly and slightly tugged the sheets away from you.
Your eyes widened, your blood went cold with fear, and your body became hot with adrenaline. You froze as you thought of what to do and looked around to see if you could make any shapes while the darkness smothered you.Â
âCome back to bed, sweetheart,â he pleaded lazily, his voice thick with sleep making your skin prickle. He gave the blanket a lazy tug to encourage you, but you ignored him. You didnât know him, the audacity. You simply released the blanket and blindly made your way around the room for clothes that you must have left somewhere.Â
You heard him sigh tiredly, the blankets rustled when he shifted, and the room lit up with the quiet click of a lampâs switch and you yelped when you saw him, equally naked, in the bed. He sat up in alarm and looked around, before just staring at you in confusion.
His hair was a mess and he looked tired⊠but hot. His arms were thick and strong. His shoulders were broad and a familiar tattoo rested above his heart, beneath his collarbone. He wasnât ripped like someone who was obsessed with going to the gym and dieting. He was so damn fine. The thin blankets came lower down his hips when he sat up inquisitively. His stomach became taut and you could see the faint lines of his abs. At least you slept with someone hot and not some creep. Well⊠he could still be a creep.
âSweetheart, what are you doing?â He moved the blankets from his hips, subsequently flashing you his dick, when he began to get up and make his way to you.
âNo, stop!â You shouted, covering your eyes before deciding to cover yourself instead. He instantly obeyed and froze on the spot, bewildered. âCover your eyes,â you demanded exasperatedly.
âWhat? Why?â He asked, but he still covered his eyes with his hand. But who could blame you for quickly stealing a glance at his very pretty cock? âDid you start your period? Youâre not due for another two weeks.â You blinked at him, astonished and disoriented.
âUhhh, what? How do you even know that, dude?â You flushed with embarrassment.
âDude?â He lowered his hand to give you an irritated look. The only reason you didnât shout at him to look away was that he wasnât staring at you like you were a piece of cake. âItâs way too early for jokes.â He shook his head at you and turned around to sift through the tall dresser behind him. Your eyes hesitantly dropped to his perky ass and you forced yourself to look away before he turned to you.
Forgive me. I am just human.
âWhereâs my damned clothes?â You asked, leaning forward over the bed to drag the blanket towards yourself to cover up. He turned with a deadpan expression while he slipped his boxers up to his hips. But when you lifted your brows expectantly, he rolled his eyes at you and smiled sarcastically, flourishing his arms in front of the dresser.
He was kind enough to pull out a black shirt that looked like it was his, then pink women's underwear, and finally some colourfully striped socks. He handed them to you, but you backed away.
âNo, Iâm not wearing that,â you refused, looking disgustedly at the cotton underwear and the small socks.Â
âItâs yours,â he told you flatly.
âWhat do you mean itâs mine?âÂ
He blinked at you boredly and dropped the clothes on the bed to cross his arms across his very sexy broad chest. âAlright. How long are you gonna keep this up?â
âI⊠uh, what?âÂ
He smiled slowly and climbed up on the bed to get closer to you. Once he did, he reached for your waist and tugged you forward. Your heart thudded heavily in your chest and you clutched the blanket closer to your breasts. Even standing on his knees in the bed, he was taller than you.Â
âWhat game are you playinâ at, hmm?â He asked seductively, gently squeezing your side. Your lips parted slightly and your heart raced.Â
You studied his face, captivated by his beauty. The crinkles at the corner of his verdant eyes called to you when he smiled down at you. You could see he was doing the same. His eyes followed a path along your face until they landed on your lips. You couldnât help following the same path on his own with your eyes. After letting your eyes drift across the curve of his freckled nose, the line of his jaw, and the attractive stubble, your eyes fell to his pillowy lips.
His hand moved to your jaw. He looked playful and your heart sped up the longer he admired you. His calloused hand gently slid up your jawline to tangle his fingers in your hair until finally, he dipped down and kissed you. His lips felt soft against your slightly-chapped lips, but he didnât seem to mind.Â
His mouth moved lazily, yet expertly over yours. Your stomach fluttered and your breath hitched. As simple as it was, it felt amazing. His lips on yours sent waves of need and excitement through your body, electrifying your skin.Â
He clouded your mind with his kiss and your mouth slowly fell open. He cupped the back of your head in his hand and tilted his head, slowly becoming more firm and needy. Your hand released the sheet from your body and your hands found their way into his soft brown hair. He hummed lowly in appreciation and splayed his free hand across the bare skin of your back.
He carefully removed his hand from your hair, then you felt his hands move to the back of your thighs. He broke the kiss momentarily, his breath against your swollen lips made you dizzy as he hoisted you up. You clung to him, dazed and aroused, and he carefully dropped you into the bed again.
His knees parted your legs. You could feel your arousal dripping down as you were exposed to the roomâs cool air. He almost instantly pressed his hips to your wet core. You could feel the warmth of his hard cock against your pulsing clit. You moaned softly and he gave you a charming smile that heated your cheeks in response.Â
He leaned down to kiss you again. This time, his tongue pushed past your lips. The warmth and wetness of his saliva moved against your tongue. He did it as if heâd done a thousand times to youâshamelessly, with craving.Â
His lips moved passionately, firmly against yours. His tongue brushed over yours needily, lovingly. He tasted you with hunger and pulled away with heavy breaths, ignoring the string of spit connecting your lips to his.Â
He leaned forward again, except this timeâwhen you closed your eyesâyou felt his lips brush against your cheeks. His warm breath tickled your neck and ear, so shivers trickled through your body.Â
You squirmed beneath him and wiggled your hips longingly.
âIâm gonna make you come so hard on my tongue, baby,â he whispered. You cursed softly. Your cunt clenched with excitement at the thought of him doing to your pussy, what heâd done to your mouth. You almost didnât feel him press wet kisses down your neck until he sucked gently at your pulse.
He moved down your body slowly. Used his teeth, tongue, and lips on your flesh to hold you in his spell. He did it so precisely, fanning the embers to create a fire of desire that overwhelmed your body with lust.Â
His lips brushed against your nipple and your heart lurched. Heat pooled between your legs, followed by a warm wetness that you somehow knew would boost his ego.Â
âTell me what youâre thinkinâ,â he whispered against your breast before gently sinking his teeth around your nipple. His fingers pinched the other. How he expected you to respond was unclear as he teased your sensitive skin with his expert tongue and strummed at your flesh like a professional guitarist.Â
âHow did I end up here?â You replied quietly, carding your fingers through his short hair. He chuckled softly at your response, moved on from one breast to the other. His saliva on your abandoned nipple enhanced the coldness of the room, causing your skin to tingle.Â
His laugh was a whole other thing. Hot and deep. Everything about him seemed to be that way. Hot and deep.
His hand sneaked down to your ribs, your stomach, and stayed there. Warm, heavy, huge, and calloused. One hell of a man. You bet he could choke you with one hand.Â
You moaned softly at the thought and squeezed his sides with your thighs in attempts to alleviate your desire. It was futile, but you had a feeling thatâs how he wanted you. He smirked against your breast, you could feel the stretch of a smile on his sinful lips, and he finally moved on.
âYouâre so desperate today, arenât ya?â Amusement seeped into his voice, but there was nothing amusing about the way his hand finally moved between your legs. He slid his middle finger through your folds, slowly teasing your clit with ghostly touches. âAlways so wet, baby, fuck,â he moaned against your hipbone.Â
âPlease,â you whined, clutching his hair tighter. He sucked a lavender mark on your hips and slid his lips down to your pelvis.
âYeah?â He teased with a smirk. You loosened your grip on his hair, just slightly. His green eyes sparkled up at you, but all you could really focus on was his finger turning to two fingers that quickly dipped into your entrance to gather your excessive slick. âFuck.â Oh, God. No one should sound so hot saying that word, but your stomach seemed to flip excitedly when it sounded so pleased. âLook at that, sweetheart. Youâre soaked, itâs gonna be so easy for me to fuck you.â
âJesus Christ,â you whispered, your toes curled with excitement.Â
He parted your folds with his fingers and lowered himself to level his mouth with your dripping cunt. His warm breath on your wet heat made you squirm and your legs shamelessly opened wider for him. The Pied Piper of sex. Â
His eyes fluttered shut when he kissed your clit. You donât think anyoneâs ever done that to you before. To be fair, you canât remember much and you donât know if itâs because of his intoxicating sensuality or because of something much more serious. Quite frankly, you didnât care as he continued to kiss you down to your clenching entrance with hums of appreciation vibrating through your desperate core.
âPlease,â you laughed breathily, weakly attempting to pull his face closer between your legs. He perked up even more at that, and flicked his tongue against your clit, perfectly striking a nerve like a chord that resonated through your entire body and made you quiver.Â
He flattened his tongue from your aching pussy to your clit, slowly and loudly savouring the taste of your arousal on his tongue. He did it over and over before settling for lapping at your entrance where your arousal puddled. His moans were husky and praising.
You gently weaved your fingers through his hair and panted heavily. His nose nudged at your pulsing clit and his tongue pushed into your fluttering pussy.Â
âFuck, please,â you whimpered, tightening your grip on the hair at the top of his head. He hummed against your core and roughly licked his way up to your clit. Quick flicks of his tongue on your clit made you writhe with pleasure. Curses slipped from your lips and all you could think about was the sensation of how wet your pussy was with his spit and how close to coming you were again.
You felt one of his fingers slowly push inside your cunt. He worked you open carefully with one thick finger plunged deep inside you and simultaneously began to suck on your clit. Your body became tense; you were right on the edge of your orgasm, but he moved away from your aching cunt to quickly kiss his way up your flushed body, to reach your lips.Â
âI wanna come,â you pleaded quietly, staring profoundly into his greedy eyes.Â
He chuckled playfully at you and slowly pushed a second finger inside you. His breath fanned over your lips and you traced the slick of your pussy on his smug mouth with your eyes. He stroked your walls slowly, skilfully pressing the pads of his fingers into the sensitive depths of your cunt. You clamped down in desperation for him to press over and over into your g-spot, but he wasnât merciful. He wanted you to feel the length of his fingers moving deeply inside you.Â
âSay my name,â he murmured against your lips. You squeezed his hips with your knees as you squirmed restlessly. Again, he made you delirious with pleasure after a request so you could do anything but properly think. He angled his fingers into that delicious spot inside you, but the buildup of your climax was as torturously slow as the stroke of his fingers.Â
âYour name?â You gasped mindlessly, closing your eyes to focus on feeling him being in all the right places. His lips brushed against yours, ignited your body like a spark to hot-wire a car. His thumb pressed gently into your clit and he slowly drew circles.Â
âDean,â he whispered bewitchingly against your lips. You felt his arm press into the pillow beside your head and he tenderly brushed your hair away from your neck.Â
âDean,â you moanedâbegged, heart hammering in your chest at his tenderness. His response was instant, with his lips pressed against yours, numbing your mind once more, but a third finger slid into your pussy so you nearly toppled off the edge again. After a few thrusts that left you moaning wantonly against Deanâs mouth, his fingers disappeared from inside you. âGod,â you cursed in irritation.
Soon, the entirety of his warmth was gone from your body. His bruising kiss left you breathless and thoughtless, but you managed to open your eyes to watch him lower his boxers with his thumb hooked at the stretchy waistbandâleaving himself completely bare again.Â
Dean bit his lip as he stroked his cock with his fingers coated in your slick. He seemed more than happy to have you watch. And you were more than happy with staring at the girth and length of him in his hand. His cock was pretty, beautiful evenâif you could even imagine. Throbbing. Leaking precum at the tip so your mouth watered for a lewd long moment. You bit your lip and wondered what he tasted likeâhopefully as good as he looked, how heâd fuck your mouth if you asked him to.
The sight of him like this made your arousal skyrocket.Â
âWhat do you want, sweetheart?â He asked breathlessly, slowly making his way closer between your legs.Â
The thought of his cock stretching you out instantly drove you crazy.Â
Once he was close enough, he leaned over you again with his arm beside your head again. He slid his hot cock through your folds and your breath caught in your throat. He moaned softly. You tore your eyes from where he coated you in his precum repeatedly.Â
âI want you⊠inside me,â you replied bashfully, heat flared up to your ears and you squirmed involuntarilyâdesperate to be fucked as you ruined the sheets beneath you with your slick. But over and over he teased your clit with slippery circles of his tip that began to build your resolve. He wasnât going to let you finish and you knew it.Â
âWhich part of me?â Of course heâd do that.Â
You became frustrated quickly and remained quiet to think of your next move. Dean had taken you to a point where your confidence was merely pent up sexual frustration.
You sat up and climbed into his lap without a single thought. As shamelessly as heâd touched you, you gripped the base of his cock. His lips parted and his eyes widened in pleasant surprise when you took his chin between your fingers and kissed him hard. He gave you full control and released his dick so his hands could find your hips instead and pull you closer.Â
He felt heavy in your hand, the throb and heat of him made your grip tighten in anticipation. He moaned against your mouth when you slowly stroked up his silky skin, slick with his precum. You thumbed at the slit, smeared his excitement around the head of his cock, and sucked his bottom lip into your mouth.
Dean groaned softly and squeezed your hip. He slowly let himself lay on his back and pulled you down with your lips still locked in a breathy and covetous kiss. You twisted your hand upwards, faster, and emphasised the movement of your fingers beneath the head of his cock. He pulled away slightly with a gasp and found his place between your legs to run a teasing finger through your drenched folds.Â
âIâm gonna fuck you so hard⊠wanna bury myself inside of you,â he murmured against your lips.Â
âOh, fuck,â you gasped instantly against his parted mouth, âyes.â
Dean kissed you hard and replaced your hand on his cock with his own again. He pulled away to catch his breath with you. Using his other hand, he brushed your hair out of the way and continued to pant for breath. He watched between your bodies, his throbbing cock in his hand, but you only watched himâcuriously and longingly. He stroked himself slowly and he cursed under his breath when the tip finally breached the wet opening of your vagina.
Your breath hitched, but his name managed to slip out quietly. He hummed in satisfaction when you slowly lowered yourself on him. The delightful stretch of having him inside you weakened your knees and your pussy tightened around him. He thrusted upwards slowly, sliding his cock further into your wet heat, perfectly stroking your g-spot.
You pulled away a small distance and watched him become utterly enraptured. His freckled cheeks were tainted a deep red that spread up to the tips of his ears and down to his neck like a wildfire. He looked so fucking beautiful. His brows furrowed in concentration and his plush lips parted to release soft groans of pleasure that made your pussy throb around him greedily.Â
His eyes fluttered open and he leaned up slightly to reach your lips. He managed to land a small peck before you started lifting yourself up and down on his cock. A broken moan from him made you smile devilishly. He fell back into the mattress and squeezed your hips roughly.
âDammit, you feel so fuckinâ good,â he praised breathily. You hummed softly and wrapped your hands around his wrists to guide his hands up to your breasts before bouncing on his lap faster, building a more steadfast rhythm.Â
âI love the way you feel, too,â you moaned softly, aroused at the sound of Deanâs cock entering your wet pussy and your skin hitting his when he was buried so deeply inside you the breath was nearly punched out of your lungs in surprise.Â
âYouâre so unbelievably beautiful,â he continued to worship quietly, pinching almost painfully at your nipples, then teasingly brushed the pads of his thumbs over themâmaybe soothingly. You moaned and leaned back with your hands on his thighs the closer you got to your orgasm.
One of Deanâs hands moved away from your breast to slowly slide down the front of your body. You watched him stare up at you, adoring you with his touch and lauding you in between groans and gasps of ecstasy. He squeezed your thigh encouragingly and cursed at the way you clenched your cunt around his sensitive cock.Â
You allowed yourself to close your eyes and let the pleasure of riding him saturate your mind and body. His hands moved along your body, praising without words when all he could do was groan and pant lewdly at your enthusiastic fucking.Â
He kneaded your breasts, squeezed your flesh, scratched gently at your skin. You were teeming with bliss and you were embarrassingly wet, but everything about him made you pathetically horny and he appeared to absolutely love every second of it.Â
Deanâs hand finally moved between your legs to find your clit and rub it continuously. His hips bucked upwards when you whined his name and clamped down on his cock as you orgasmed. Your body shook above him and he hummed low in his throat, partially amused, but mostly satisfied.Â
His thumb rubbed furiously at your clitâdilating the duration of your orgasm, intensifying itâand only stopped when you couldnât handle it anymore. Your whimper and the way you weakly draped your body over his with your forehead pressed into his warm shoulder, stopped him.
You couldnât process much after that, but soon your face was pressed into his pillow and your pussy was getting filled again with his cock. His fingers bruised your hips and you gasped out moans as your second orgasm began to build.Â
"Shit, you love it like this, don't you, sweetheart?" You were flustered by the soppy sound of your cunt every time he pounded into you from behind, but you were partially grateful that he was close to finishing. A perplexing, carnal part of you wanted him to keep ploughing into your pussy until you ached.
âFuck, youâre such a good girl,â Dean praised gruffly. You only whimpered brokenly in response as he fucked you through the squelch and wetness of your second orgasm. Your toes curled with the unbelievable sensation that seized your body when you felt his cum fill you with warmth. His release slipped between your thighs in a mixture with yours and you cried his name as your walls pulsed around his throbbing cock.Â
Dean released you and your body sank completely into the soft mattress. He panted against your shoulder and murmured praises with his comforting hands sailing along your body.Â
Your mind slowly returned to the real world and the beat of your heart slowed to its normal rhythm. You were exhausted and you wanted to clean yourself up, but Dean had other plans for you: staying in bed and cuddling.
You willed yourself into getting up out of his bed. You sat upâhis arm loosely around your waistâand became aware of the lack of windows and the wooden stake that rested at the far end of the little platformâa shelf reallyâhe had above his bed next to a little fan.Â
âUmâŠâ you trailed off, wiggling out of his arm to slide out of the messy bed.Â
âYouâre seriously not gonna stay in bed?â He questioned you as you looked around, attempting to ignore the rest of your mixed release dripping from between your legs. You felt his fingers move between yours, then a sharp tug pulled you back in bed. Your legs were shaky so you ended up right back where he wanted you to beâin his embrace.Â
âYeah,â you laughed awkwardly. You squirmed and wiggled until he finally released you, âI donât know you and I need to⊠get back⊠somewhere, home.â He sat up on his side and stared at you blankly for a few seconds. No, heâs too beautiful.Â
You looked away and decided to pull âyourâ clothes from where heâd thrown it to get something to cover your body now that your post-orgasmic brain was becoming logical and self-conscious.Â
âBabe, drop it, weâll play that game later,â he dismissed you with a cute snort. You groaned at him when he snagged his shirt from your hands. He slowly peppered kisses along your neck and shoulder and you were unable to fight him.
âDean, Iâm serious,â you tried weakly and gripped his hair to pull him away as gently as you could. You turned to look at him again and he backed off. âLook at me and tell me if Iâm lying to you.â He rolled his eyes but held your gaze for a few moments as he contemplated you.Â
You saw the amusement on his handsome face but you continued to frown. The amusement faded into perplexity and concern.Â
âAh, shit,â he muttered.
â> stone flower
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#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester#dean x female!reader#dean x reader#dean x you#dean x y/n#dean winchester smut#dean winchester fan fiction#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x female!reader
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Your Favorite Dates...
With Rafe Cameron
-> Rafe x F!Reader
-> Pt. 1: When Rafe Realizes He's Falling for You
The Confession
The air between you was thick with something unspoken.
The two of you sat on the hood of Rafeâs truck, parked near the cliffs where the ocean stretched endlessly before you. The sunset painted everything in gold and pink, the last slivers of daylight dancing across his face.
It shouldâve been peaceful.
It shouldâve been easy.
But there was something pressing against your chest. Something you felt from him too.
You swung your legs, the metal warm beneath your palms. âYouâre being quiet,â you murmured, stealing a glance at him. âThatâs never a good sign.â
Rafe exhaled a short laugh through his nose, shaking his head. âYou always say that.â
âBecause itâs always true.â
He didnât argue. Instead, he tilted his head back, eyes fixed on the sky like the words he was looking for might be written somewhere in the clouds.
âIâve been thinking,â he said finally, voice quieter than usual.
Your stomach twisted at the serious edge in his tone. âThatâs dangerous.â
That earned you a smirk, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. His fingers drummed against the hood, restless.
âY/N,â he said, and when he turned to face you, something in his expression made your breath catch. It was raw. Honest.
You swallowed. âYeah?â
He hesitated. Rafe Cameron, hesitating. That alone was enough to send your heart into a sprint. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling like he was about to step off a ledge.
âI thinkâŠâ He stopped, shook his head, then tried again. âNo. I know that Iââ His jaw clenched, frustration flickering across his face. âDamn it, why is this so hard?â
You barely had time to process before he turned fully toward you, eyes locking onto yours in a way that made it impossible to look anywhere else.
âIâm in love with you.â
The words were simple. No grand speeches, no flowery declarations. Just quiet, steady truth.
Your heart slammed against your ribs. âRafeâŠâ
âI mean it.â His voice was firm now, certain. âItâs not just some passing thing. Itâs not just because youâre the person I want to be around the most or because youâre the first person I think about when something good, or bad, happens. Itâs not just because you make me laugh, or because being with you is the easiest thing in the world.â
You could barely breathe. He was still talking. Still laying himself bare.
âItâs because when youâre not around, I feel it. Like somethingâs missing. Like I donât know what to do with myself.â He shook his head, letting out a breathy, almost disbelieving laugh. âI donât know when it happened. But itâs you. Itâs always been you.â
Your hands gripped the edge of the truck, grounding yourself. He was looking at you like this was it. Like he had nothing left to hide.
âI know Iâm not the easiest person to be with,â he admitted. âI know I mess up. A lot. But I swear to you, Iââ He exhaled sharply, voice softer now. âIâve never been more sure of anything in my life.â
The weight of his words settled over you, warm and overwhelming. He loved you.
And you?
You reached out before you even realized what you were doing, fingers curling around his. Rafe stiffened for half a second before his hand turned, gripping yours like he was afraid to let go.
âSay something,â he murmured, almost pleading.
You swallowed hard, heart lodged in your throat. âYouâre an idiot.â
A laugh burst out of him, relief flickering across his face. âYeah?â
âYeah,â you whispered, squeezing his hand. âBecause you just wasted all that time worrying when you couldâve just kissed me instead.â
His breath hitched. âIs that what you want?â
You didnât answer with words. You just leaned in.
And Rafe?
He met you halfway.
First Date: Love on the Water
The sky stretched wide above youas Rafeâs boat glided over the calm water. The gentle rocking of the boat making everything feel light, like a dream neither of you wanted to wake up from.
Rafe, sitting across from you at the helm, looked completely at home: bare-chested, sun-kissed, his hair a little messy from the wind. But there was something different about him tonight, something softer in the way he looked at you, like he couldnât quite believe you were real.
âYou keep looking at me like that,â you teased, grinning. âGot something to say, Cameron?â
His lips twitched up into a smirk, but it was gentle, not cocky. âYeah,â he murmured, steering the boat one-handed as his free arm stretched out to rest along the back of your seat. âI was just thinking⊠youâre kinda ruining every other sunset for me.â
Your heart flipped at the tenderness in his voice. âOh, yeah?â
âYeah.â He leaned in slightly, his fingers brushing the back of your neck, absentmindedly tracing soft, lazy circles. âBecause no matter how pretty they are, Iâll always wish you were in front of them.â
You groaned, nudging his chest with your foot. âRafe, that was so cheesy.â
He caught your ankle before you could pull away, grinning as he pressed a feather light kiss to the inside of it. âMaybe, but it made you blush.â
You opened your mouth to argue, but you were blushing, and his knowing smirk said he definitely noticed.
Before you could retaliate, he tugged you forward, guiding you to sit between his legs as he leaned back against the cushioned seat. His arms wrapped securely around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder.
âYouâre so clingy,â you teased, even as you melted into him.
âYou love it,â he murmured against your skin, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your shoulder.
You did. And he knew it.
The boat drifted lazily in the water, the only sounds being the soft lapping of the waves and the occasional sigh of contentment from one of you. Rafeâs fingers absentmindedly played with yours, tracing the delicate lines of your palm like he was memorizing them.
âYouâre my favorite,â he whispered suddenly, so soft you almost missed it.
You turned slightly, surprised by the quiet sincerity in his voice. âYour favorite?â
He nodded, nudging his nose against your cheek before pressing a barely-there kiss to it. âYeah. More than the water. More than my stupid boat. More than anything.â
Your chest ached in the best way possible. âThatâs a pretty big deal for a guy whoâs obsessed with the ocean.â
He grinned, his lips brushing your jaw. âWhat can I say? Youâre the only thing thatâs ever made me wanna stay on land.â
You tilted your head back, laughing softly. âOkay, now that was extra cheesy.â
âYeah?â he murmured, shifting slightly so his lips hovered over yours. âYou gonna stop me?â
You shook your head, smiling against his mouth as you finally, finally kissed him, the sea and the sky and the whole world disappearing until it was just him. Just this.
Rafe hummed against your lips, his arms tightening around you. âI should take you on a boat ride every night.â
You grinned. âYouâd never get tired of it?â
His forehead rested against yours, eyes shining in the golden light. âNot as long as youâre here.â
âŠ
Cooking (And Failing) Together
It had started with the best intentions.
Rafe had insistedâswornâthat he could follow a recipe. âItâs just instructions,â heâd said confidently, grinning as he rolled up his sleeves. âHow hard can it be?â
Ten minutes later, there was flour on his face, something was definitely burning, and you were clutching the counter, laughing so hard your stomach hurt.
âOkay, maybe we missed a step,â Rafe admitted, waving a dish towel in front of the smoking pan while you wiped tears from your eyes.
âMaybe?â you gasped between giggles. âRafe, we set off the smoke alarm. Twice.â
He groaned dramatically, leaning against the counter. âI was trying to impress you.â
You softened, stepping closer and dusting some flour from his cheek. âBabe, you always impress me.â
His eyes flickered to yours, warm and sweet. âYeah?â
You nodded. âYeah. Just maybe not in the kitchen.â
Rafe huffed out a laugh, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you against him. âAlright, so weâre terrible cooks. But you know what weâre really good at?â
You tilted your head, amused. âWhat?â
He smirked, pressing a quick, playful kiss to the tip of your nose. âOrdering takeout.â
Twenty minutes later, you were sitting side by side on the kitchen counter, legs swinging as you ate straight from the containers. Rafe kept stealing bites off your plate, grinning every time you swatted at his hand.
âYou have your own food, Cameron,â you scolded, laughing as he successfully swiped a piece of your sushi.
âYeah, but yours tastes better,â he said with a wink, chewing happily.
You rolled your eyes but couldnât stop the smile from spreading across your face.
For a moment, you just looked at him: his hair slightly messy, his cheek still dusted with flour, his blue eyes full of something so soft and unguarded it made your heart ache in the best way.
âWhat?â he murmured, catching your stare.
You shook your head, nudging your forehead against his. âJust⊠I love you.â
Rafe froze for half a second before his whole face lit up, the most boyish, breathtaking grin spreading across his lips.
âYeah?â he whispered, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your thigh.
âYeah,â you said softly.
He exhaled, like heâd been waiting his whole life to hear it. Then, without another word, he set his takeout container aside, cupped your face between his hands, and kissed you. Slow, sweet, like he had all the time in the world.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath still mingling with yours.
âI love you too,â he murmured, eyes shining. âEven if youâre a terrible cook.â
You swatted his chest, laughing. âWe are terrible cooks.â
âEh.â He smirked, nudging his nose against yours. âGuess weâll just have to stick to takeout.â
And honestly? You wouldnât have it any other way.
Surfing Lesson (a.k.a Rafe's Excuse to Hold You for an Hour Straight)
âYou got this, baby.â
Rafeâs voice was warm, steady, as he floated beside you in the water. He had one hand resting on your board, keeping you balanced, the other brushing a reassuring touch along your arm.
âI really donât,â you muttered, squinting at the rolling waves.
He smirked. âYou just have to feel it out. Read the water. Be one with the ocean.â
You scoffed. âAre you a surfer or a fortune cookie?â
Rafe laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners, but his hand on your board didnât waver. âAlright, alright. Just trust me, okay?â
That was the thing, you did trust him. Maybe a little too much.
Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself and tried again. The wave came, and for a split second, you were standing, wind in your hair, Rafe cheering in the background...
Before you wobbled, panicked, and crashed into the water.
By the time you resurfaced, Rafe was already there, arms wrapping around you before you could even get your bearings.
âJesus, you okay?â he asked, pushing wet hair from your face.
âI think I swallowed half the ocean.â
His mouth twitched. âSo what youâre saying is, you love surfing.â
You groaned. âI hate you.â
âNah,â he murmured, brushing his thumb over your cheek, his voice softer now. âYou donât.â
You didnât.
After a dozen more wipeouts, Rafe finally called mercy, pulling you out of the water and draping his hoodie over your shoulders the second you hit the sand.
âYouâre freezing,â he muttered, tugging the fabric tighter around you.
You rolled your eyes. âNo way. Itâs almost like Iâve been dunked in the ocean fifteen times.â
Rafe just smirked, taking your hand in his and pressing a quick kiss to your knuckles. âDonât worry. Youâll get it next time.â
You shot him a look. âYou said that last time.â
âAnd I meant it.â
The two of you ended up at a little coffee stand, sitting side by side on the boardwalk, the scent of salt and espresso mingling in the cool morning air.
Rafe was unusually quiet, absentmindedly playing with your fingers as he stared out at the waves.
You nudged his shoulder. âPenny for your thoughts?â
He glanced at you, lips quirking up at the corners. âJust thinking about how good you looked out there.â
You snorted. âYou mean when I faceplanted into the ocean?â
He shook his head, tightening his grip on your hand. âNo. I mean when you got back up every single time.â
Something warm bloomed in your chest.
You stared at him, the boy who never let you fall without being right there to catch you. And suddenly, it didnât matter that youâd failed miserably at surfing.
Because if Rafe Cameron was by your side, youâd try a thousand times over.
You squeezed his hand, leaning your head against his shoulder. âNext time,â you murmured.
Rafe pressed a kiss to the top of your head, lingering there for a moment.
âNext time,â he echoed.
And for once, you actually believed him.
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting everything in soft gold and pink, Rafe stole a glance at you. You were laughing, sipping the last of your coffee, your nose scrunching up just a little: something heâd seen a hundred times before but would never, ever get tired of.
And for the first time in a long time, he felt lucky.
Lucky that youâd called him that night in the rain. Lucky that, somehow, you saw something in him worth holding on to. Lucky that heâd finally said it. That he hadnât let his own fears stop him from having this.
Having you.
He squeezed your hand, bringing it up to press a kiss to your fingers, murmuring against them, âBest decision I ever made.â
You blinked, glancing up at him. âHuh?â
Rafe just smiled, shaking his head. âNothing.â
But as you leaned into him, warmth seeping into every part of him, he knew it wasnât nothing.
It was everything.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction
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PURE NICOTINE (18+)

PAIRING: Patrick Zweig x Art Donaldson x Reader WORD COUNT: 2415 CONTENT TAGS: Smut, MMF threesome, bondage, edging, cigarette burns, sex toy, vibrator, ruined orgasm, overstimulation, light sadism, everyone is technically a switch but mostly bratty!Patrick + subtop!Art + dom!reader SUMMARY: You and Art have had enough of Patrick Zweig. Time to tie him up.
Patrick without Tashi is a problem.Â
Heâs always been smug, always been rowdy, but Tashi could keep him grounded. But with her away on a trip? Heâs like a dog who managed to slip away from his leashâ all unchecked energy and sharp teeth.Â
And itâs wearing you and Art down.Â
Heâs the worst in the bedroomâ dominant by default, with an endless stamina that leaves you both scrambling to keep up. He throws his weight around, laughing when you squirm and going harder when Art cries. Itâs not that he doesnât care, he doesâ heâs just excited to finally have some form of control, abusing his newfound freedom.Â
God, you miss Tashi.Â
Because now, youâre spread out on your and Tashiâs beds pushed together, the gaps between the mattresses barely noticeable beneath the damp sheets twisted around your legs. It still smells like Tashi against your face, her perfume something flowery and addictive. The air is thick with salt, sweat, and warmth, but the half-broken fan does nothing to cool you, stirring the heat around while you try to catch your breath. Your fingers idly trace the aching parts of your body, sticky with a mix of Art and Patrick.Â
Art is worse, collapsed against the pillows, chest rising and falling rapidly as he pants. His golden hair is wet against his forehead, skin stained pink where Patrickâs fingers had dug in too hard. He barely moves with his eyes squeezed shut, except for the slow, twitchy shift of his fingertips against the sheets, like heâs trying to bring himself back to reality.Â
And then thereâs Patrick.Â
Patrick is half-sitting against the headboard, one arm draped behind his head while the other entertains a cigarette. His body glows in the shitty, dim lighting of your room, letting the smoke curl up to the ceiling and dissipate. His hair is a mess, but he leaves it like it's all a part of the experience, looking too pleased with himself.Â
His gaze flicks between you and Art, relishing his moment of gloryâ and when your eyes meet, he grins.Â
You recognize what it means and groan. Not again. âNo.âÂ
Patrick rolls towards you but you shove him away, hard.
âPatrick, get the fuck away from me.âÂ
âCome on, one more.â He practically whines at your rejection, hand crawling towards your stomach as he exhales smoke in Artâs direction. Art shivers. âYou both look like you can handle one more...âÂ
You huff, pushing yourself up from the sheets. Art blinks at you, dazed, and you stare at him with intentionâ and you donât even have to say it. He knows what to do.Â
Art takes a breath to steady himself, then crawls towards Patrick. He shakily brings himself up to press his lips to Patrickâs, and Patrick grins, taking it as a sign of Victory. Not missing a beat, he grips onto the blonde curls to yank Art closer, deeper. Thereâs a muffled gasp at the pull and Patrick chuckles against the kiss, completely lost in it, not even realizing that you have grabbed his discarded belt from the floor.Â
As you climb onto the bed again, Art shifts, straddling Patrick and pushing him onto his back. Art grabs Patrickâs hands and forces them up towards the headboard. Thereâs a sharp change in the way Art is kissing him nowâ teeth digging into his lower lip, threatening to break the skin. Patrick moans, trying to move away to touch Artâ but Art is determined, locking him in his place.
Patrick falters for a moment, his cigarette slipping from his fingers and landing on his stomach.Â
A choked sound escapes Patrick at the sudden contact. The hot tip of the cigarette presses against his skin and he jerksâ it stings. You quickly use the time to wrap the belt around Patrickâs wrists, securing them tightly against the headboard.
âShitââ Patrick sputters. âYouâ fuckingââÂ
Art watches smoke drift from the cigarette, almost satisfied at the way Patrick writhes beneath him. You give him grace and reach for the cigarette from his stomach, watching his muscles tense at the graze of your fingertips. Patrick lets out a sharp breath at the sight of a red mark, but you ignore his pained, almost betrayed expression.
He watches as you bring the cigarette to Art, pressing it to his pink, puffy lips.Â
Art takes it without a word, locking eyes with Patrick before slowly inhaling, letting the nicotine fill his lungs. He breathes out, letting the smoke drift across Patrickâs slick skin.Â
Patrick tugs against the leather restraints, like heâs testing how serious you two are with this, but thereâs no way out now. You smile, pleased with the turn of events, taking a drag of the cigarette yourself. Bitter.Â
âWhat are you gonna do to me, huh?â Patrick tries, trying to claw back some control.Â
Without indulging him, you head to the drawer beside the beds, pulling out a small, unmarked cardboard box. You lift the lid, revealing a neat collection of toys, some bought by you and some gifted by Tashi. Your fingers ghost over the selection, eventually choosing a sleek black dildo.
Patrick stills at the sight of it, a nervous laugh leaving him.Â
âWhy do you even buy those?â A smirk. âYou have me.â
âWell,â You flick on the small button and the silicone starts to pulse. You press it against your palm, letting the sensation ripple out as you lift your gaze to Patrick. âYou donât vibrate, soâŠâÂ
Patrick swallows, eyeing the silicone as if to size it up. Heâs excited, you can tell, with his cock an angry shade of red and hard as a rockâ totally shameless about the fact that he is.
And thatâs the annoying thing about Patrick Zweigâ heâs never embarrassed about what he wants and how he gets it. If you try to humiliate him, heâll lean into it. If you make him beg, heâll do it loudly. If you try to break him, heâll give you a show. Â
So, how do you wreck someone like Patrick?Â
Art moves away to sit beside Patrick as you settle back onto the bed, kneeling between his legs. He watches you with an expected grin. Like he knows heâs still getting what he wants out of this.Â
âYouâre both acting like I wonât enjoy this.âÂ
His arms flex against the belt. His cock twitches, blatant, but you donât give it focus yet. You press the toy against his stomach, watching Patrick hungrily move towards the vibration. You move it across his abs, following his happy trail but not quite getting to the pleasurable areas. Patrickâs breath hitches, anticipation forming from his depths as he licks his lips.  Â
âWhat do you want from me?â Heâs too impatient. âYou want me to beg? Iâll beg.âÂ
Annoyed, you push the toy on the cigarette burn and he hisses, muscles twitching at the aching sensation.Â
âMm.â He tries to shift away, body bending and rocking the bed with itâ but Artâs hand snaps out, slapping his chest. Patrick lets out a surprised gasp at the sting, a red mark blooming over his pec. âJesus Christ, ArtââÂ
Art ignores it, forcing another sharp slap down to the same place. This time, Patrick moans, the heat of it going straight to his groin.Â
You turn the vibration up, then slowly drag it down to the tip of his cock, rubbing it against the precum beading at the slit. He drops his head back against the pillow, mouth parting open with a happy groan. You let it hum right there, just enough to give him some friction as Art moves towards you.Â
He starts kissing your jaw, hand moving to touch your tits to give Patrick something to watch. Patrick bucks his hips because itâs not fair, itâs not enoughâ his head clouds at the smoke curling at his face and you flick the ash off the tip of the cigarette. It falls in a fine gray trail, landing against his pelvis.Â
Just when Patrick feels like something is starting to form, you turn it off, taking it all away. You bring the dildo to Art, pressing it against his mouth and he obeys, letting you slide it between his lips. He coats it in his saliva, taking it deeper as you peer down at him, drawing another hit of nicotine.Â
Art closes his eyes for a second, breathing through his nose as you push it down his throat. You can hear him moan softly as he works around the length, letting Patrick see it all. The toy slides in and out with a wet, rhythmic sound.Â
âCock slut,â Patrick says from the background.Â
Art pulls back with a glare, letting you wipe some of his spit off his lip. You laugh at Patrickâs unearned confidence, lining the dildo up to Patrickâs entrance.Â
âFinally.â He grins. âYouâre gonna fuck me good.âÂ
Out of spite, you shove it inside him, the sudden intrusion making his body jolt. A sharp gasp tears from his chest, and he clenches around the toy, twisting at the belt around his wrist.Â
You donât give him a chance to adjust as you start the vibration again, this time at the highest setting. It slides in deep, legs bracing and abs rippling at the pulsing sensation. Meanwhile, Art squirts some lube then moves to take Patrickâs cock in his hand, watching it twitch against his touch. He starts to stroke him, up and down, at an unbearably slow speed.Â
âMmm, fuck,â Patrick pants, thrusting up towards the contact. âF-fasterââÂ
You twist the dildo and it hits the spot that makes him whine like a dog, his head tilting back, revealing his Adam's apple bobbing with every strained breath. You smoke as you watch Art pump Patrick up and down, going faster by the second.Â
Itâs not long until Patrick starts to beg.
âKeep going, Iâm right there, Iââ He stutters, clenching his eyes shut. âHolyâ fuckââÂ
âStop.âÂ
Patrickâs eyes flutter open in panic.Â
âWaitââÂ
Art obeys immediately, and you turn off the toy as Patrickâs head tilts backwards. He thrashes in his place, as if he can somehow chase his lost orgasm.Â
âOh, come on, come on,â He babbles, turning to you with a strained smile. Like heâs amused but deeply terrified at the same time. âThatâs your plan? Denial? Thatâsââ He cuts himself off when you start the toy again, the low buzz just enough to make his hips convulse. He huffs. âOkay. Okay.âÂ
You give a nod towards Art who starts again, looking at you with arousal in his eyes. You realize that his own cock is standing at the sight of Patrickâs subjugation, and you smile, leaning closer and locking lips with him as he continues to work the length.
And the two of you edge him over and over again.Â
It's been, what, an hour? Maybe two?
And Patrick is a mess.
His body shifts instinctively toward any touch, seeking relief, seeking pleasureâ but the moment he gets too close, you remove everything, pulling him out, forcing him to simmer in the cruel, dizzying ache of being edged to his breaking point.Â
Patrick is so loudâ heâs always been loudâ but louder now that youâre being mean. His voice is raw and hoarse as he whines and curses between short, erratic breaths.Â
But after a while, you hear no noise, except for the shallow, wrecked sounds slipping out of this throat. When you finally look at him properly after an hour of disregarding his pleas, heâs flushed all over, skin damp with sweat, lips swollen from biting down too hard. Half-lidded eyes glossy with something dangerously close to tears. His hands are slack against the restraints, body trembling with muscles twitching uncontrollable from overstimulation yet no release.Â
Heâs somewhere between pleasure and agony, and he has never looked prettier. Â
You lean closer to him, taking out the dildo but he barely registers it, clenching around nothing. You brush your hand against his chest and he jolts, thighs contracting and breath stuttering. Heâs too sensitive, too desperate, every nerve alight with the unbearable ache of being denied.Â
Delicious.Â
âYou want to come?â You whisper against his skin.Â
Patrick releases a strangled moan. Heâs beyond begging nowâ he doesnât have the strength.Â
You tell Art to move over and glide your hand on Patrickâs cock, squeezing and tugging the way he likes it. Patrick mouths something none of you can hear as he feels his orgasm approaching. You press your fingers into his mouth and his tongue circle around them, like heâs thanking you for this, thanking you for torturing himâ
With a twist of your hand, the tension snapsâ the orgasm hits him like a trainâ and you immediately move away from him.Â
âFuck!â Patrick cries, watching his cum splatter onto his spasming muscles yet feeling no pleasure. Itâs too much and not enough all at once. The contractions are practically painful as he pathetically winces, and fuck, heâs still hard. He groans. âNo, no, noâŠâÂ
You look over to Art, who looks painfully turned on at the sight of Patrick.Â
âThink heâs had enough?âÂ
Art smiles. âHe looks like he can handle one more.â
âFu-uck,â Art drawls, rutting into Patrick as the headboard slams against the wall.Â
Patrick's cock hits his stomach with each thrust, squirting out precum every time Art reaches a particular spot. You place the vibrator on his tip again and he wailsâ finally breaking down.Â
âS- So deep,â Patrick sobs as you pat his hair, wiping the sweat off his forehead while he falls apart underneath Art. âSo fucking deepââÂ
And Art takes that as an invitation to thrust faster, harder, giving Patrick exactly what he needs. The sound of skin meeting skin echoes in the room. Patrick lets out a broken cry, body completely surrendering to the two of you. Art slaps his hand over Patrickâs mouth, cutting off the only form of resistance he has.Â
You grin, pulling out your phone. The screen glows as you frame the shotâ focused on Patrickâs weak, desperate expression, with Art hovering above him, his back tenses and glistening with sweat.
Perfect.
You snap the picture, attaching a follow-up message with it.Â
Attachment: 1 image Come home the kids miss you <3
And then, just for the hell of it, you take a cigarette from Patrickâs stash, lighting it up. You watch the smoke swirl through the air as you hit send.
NOTE: Cigarettes are also called fags. So. Also this is my first time writing SMUT smut so... yikes it's kind of rough, kind of wattpad, but... I'll get better !!!
#challengers#art donaldson#challengers 2024#challengers x reader#art donaldson x reader#patrick zweig x reader#patrick zweig#tashi duncan#tashi duncan x reader#artrick#artrick smut#patrick zweig smut#art donaldson smut#challengers smut#challengers fic
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