#Bathroom lightning tips

[foldingfittedsheets]

In my household growing up scaring each other was like an Olympic level sport. We’d wait around corners, we’d hide under things. We took it seriously.

My mom started it. She loved scaring us. She has a cherished photo of me screaming that she took one Halloween night after jumping out of a dark bush at me. But my quickly brother latched onto the game with abandon. Mom quickly regretted teaching us to do this as turnabout did not seek like fair play to her.

At one point my sister was given a life size cardboard cutout of Legolas and the second we realized that thing was an instant jump scare we’d move it all over the house. The scream from the bathroom at 2am was my crowning achievement but Legolas tragically went missing shortly after. Read: my mom burned him.

Now, as the youngest I was at a severe disadvantage. I spooked the easiest after my mom. I was exceptionally sneaky and patient so I typically got my revenge but I quickly learned that if you didn’t jump then it was less fun. Thus began my campaign for nonreaction. Every time someone jumped out at me I startled a little less as I stamped down on the reflex.

After a year or so I would just blink at my brother when he popped out from a closet. Don’t get me wrong, I was still scared. The spike of adrenaline and panic still happened internally but I didn’t react anymore. My brother soon gave up on me and the game died to our mothers intense relief.

I largely forgot about that period of my life but every so often someone tries to scare me and is extremely disappointed.

My favorite of these attempts was at Red Robin. Servers loved to spook the hosts when they could, it was a fun pastime when they didn’t have enough to do.

The hosts were meant to open the doors for people when it was slow. The door we opened had a single seat beside it on the left, then a blind hallway that led to the bathroom.

One evening I was on door duty. I was facing slightly away from the seat on my left. A server buddy of mine snuck out of the bathroom quiet as could be. He waited for the perfect moment, then leapt over the seat to land in front of me with a huge, “RAH!!!!!” It was a feat of fear and athleticism.

Panic shot through me like a lightning bolt but grounded itself quickly. I didn’t outwardly so much as blink in surprise, and after a quick beat I turned to look at him calmly and said, “Hey, Joe.”

He deflated and all the other hosts jaws dropped. “How did you see me?!”

“I didn’t,” I assured him.

He scoffed in disbelief and slunk away defeated.

He hounded me for a week about how coolly I’d greeted him, asking if I’d heard him coming or if another host had tipped me off. “No, you scared me,” I told him. He never believed it and no further attempts were ever made on me.

[aurorawritestoescape]

STEAM || Javier Peña x f!reader || 1,3k

Summary: you take a shower with Javi

Tw: 18+, mdni, smut, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie

A/n: huge thank you to @callachloe for sending this ask and inspiring me to write this🩷 Kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘 Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕

MASTERLIST || same couple - gif blurb || shaving Javi

You can’t believe that the wait is over. His hands all over you are drawing needy whimpers out of your open mouth, his eager lips sliding along your neck, his hard cock thumping between your wet heated bodies.

Javi led you to the shower as soon as you arrived at your place from the office. As always in separate cars. Now bathing in the steamy air, he’s kissing you with passion, your body caged by his tall frame against the shower wall. The water is hitting his back, warm rivulets flowing down his broad torso. His body against yours feels so good, you might as well be in heaven or under a waterfall in a tropical paradise and not in your tiny bathroom on the outskirts of the city.

Javi’s hands are roaming your sides, back, squeezing your asscheeks, kneading your slippery breasts. You feel him everywhere and melt under his scorching touch. Your needy whimpers and his low growls merge into a symphony of lust and pleasure, reverberating through the room. Being on the edge from teasing you all day, unable to act on his desires, bound by your shared secret, Javi finally has you to himself, and his every movement is charged with a need to satiate his hunger.

He grabs his cock and pushes the tip between your pussy lips, making you gasp when the fat head bumps into your clit, that is buzzing with arousal, ready to send your nerves ablaze from the lightest stimulation.

“Wanted you so fucking bad—been driving me crazy— naughty girl.”

You choke on another moan and mumble, through heavy breathing.

“Me? You’ve been taunting me all day.”

He pulls away from you to let his dark eyes slide up and down your naked body. You seize this moment to take him in as well- his handsome face, his toned shoulders and chest, his golden skin, glistening with water droplets. You can’t help but let your gaze follow the path of his damp happy trail that leads to his gorgeous hard cock. Just like whiskey that you love licking off Javi’s lips, the sight of his beauty intoxicates you, makes you bolder than you really are.

“You’ve been so cruel to me, Javi,” you tut with a playful smile.

This immediately feels like a mistake when the man replies to your fake scolding with a smirk. The punishment comes fast. Javi pinches your hard nipple, and a pathetic moan crawls up your throat when he twitches it between the pads of his fingers. A hot lightning of arousal shoots through your body and your knees almost buckle. Javi hastily presses his hips against yours, keeping you steady and cups your pussy with his free hand.

“Javiiii,” you whine when his thumb starts stroking your clit, his digits not leaving your stiff nipple. He leans closer to you and as his hot breath fans your lips, he whispers,

“Remind me who wanted to keep us a secret, baby? Believe me I’d rather show everyone who this pussy belongs to.”

He claims his possession by inserting two fingers into your sopping hole and starts fingering you, not letting go of your tit.

“Hate the way some of them look at you. Like they have a chance.”

He curls his digits inside you, immediately finding your g-spot. You’re trying to stay upright, your hands gripping Javi’s broad shoulders while his fingers are fucking into you relentlessly, pushing you higher towards your peak.

“Do they have a chance, beautiful?”

Drowning in pleasure, you shake your head, mumbling ‘no’s in a trembling voice.

His lips brush against your whimpering mouth, and he gruffs,

“That’s right, baby. So how about I fuck you tomorrow in my office so everyone could hear that you’re mine?”

The image appearing in your mind makes your pussy clamp around his moving fingers.

“No, Javi— no—I can’t—we shouldn’t.”

You’re barely able to protest, so far gone in the pleasure. Javi lets go of your nipple and his hand slithers down to grab your ass. He tilts your hips to make your orgasm unforgettable before you feel his lips move against your cheek.

“That’s what you said the night I kissed your pretty pussy for the first time. Maybe I shouldn’t listen to you.”

The memory of that night overflows the glass of your pleasure and you come with your loud moan ringing in the bathroom, until Javi shuts you down with a passionate kiss.

Your core is still pulsating when he lifts your trembling body and throws your arms and legs around him. You’re trying to hold on but your limbs possess no strength. He fucked it out of you with his fingers, his mouth, his lustful glances.

He manhandles you into the position he wants and with his hands under your ass he practically seats you down on his throbbing cock.

His half grunt-half moan vibrates against your lips and you echo him with your sweet noises. Your pussy’s fluttering around his manhood, welcoming it.

“Ohh, baby. So tight and wet. Fuck.“

You moan the name of your lover, filled with his cock to the limit, and tilt your head back in ecstasy when he starts moving you up and down his member.

Your back is sliding easily against the wet tiles and with your hand gripping his strong shoulder, you brace the other one against the glass door. It’s not to keep yourself steady, you know he’ll never drop you, but to ground yourself, let the cold wet surface wake you up from your fucked out state. You need to feel Javi sharper, memorize every tiny sensation he’s giving you.

“Yes-yes- yes-,” you chant while he’s thrusting up into you. Soon you get overwhelmed with emotions and tears of pleasure well up in your eyes.

“Javi,” you plead not sure what for.

“Yes, baby, I’m here. You’re taking me so good, my good girl.”

Javi’s close, judging by his strained voice. His grunts are getting louder, in rhythm with him bouncing you on his cock. Your tits are jiggling and he catches your nipple with his mouth, wraps his lips around it and sucks. Your hand flies to his head and you run your fingers through his wet silky hair.

A few thrusts and he presses you hard against the wall, painting your velvet walls white with his hot cum. The pulsations inside you light up your nerves and you explode in unison with Javi, on his cock, hugging him as hard as you can.

Your bodies vibrate with euphoria against each other and your pussy contracts around his stiffness again and again, taking everything he’s giving you, milking him to the last drop.

Gradually you descend back into reality. Javi’s holding you in his arms, while his cock is slowly softening inside you. Your lips gravitate to his, your bodies glued to each other as if you forgot how to be apart.

After a few moments Javi breaks your slow kissing and gently lowers you to your feet. His hands slide up your sides, your shoulders and then wrap around your neck. He’s brushing your jaw with his thumbs and tilts your head to face him.

“Don’t think I’m done with you, mi amor. We have a long night ahead of us.”

You look up at him, mouth agape after hearing what he called you, and Javi smiles and leans down to plant a soft kiss to your lips. Yes, you’re definitely in heaven.

General tag list:@milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesfaye

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Eight

Steve slices the apple into four parts, and then retrieves the clock from the hallway; this one will be best, there’s no glass or anything, so he can just force the hands around with his fingers. Eddie sits on a stool at the breakfast bar, watching Steve and waiting patiently.

“Okay buddy, what time does it say?”

“Four,” Eddie says confidently. Nice and easy that one, because Steve has the little hand on the four and Eddie has grasped to look at the little hand first pretty fast.

“Okay so,” Steve puts down the clock, and holds the pieces of apple together to make it whole. “This is a full apple, yeah? One. It’s whole.”

“Whole apple.”

“Right, so now, how many?”

Steve pulls the pieces apart so he has two slices held together in each hand, “two.”

“That’s right, but It’s also half.”

“Half.”

“Yeah, whole apple. One apple. Two slices. Half an apple.”

“Half an apple.”

“Right, so,” Steve puts the apple slices down, letting them split, and moves the big hand down to six, “half four.”

Eddie moves the apple pieces around, frowning, “half four. Two,” he points.

“Yeah, with counting. On the clock. Time. This is half past four.”

Eddie frowns at the clock again. He shakes his head.

“Okay, so,” Steve spreads out the apple slices, “four. Four quarters,” then he moves the big hand around the clock face again, “quarter past four, half past four, quarter to five.”

Eddie frowns again, face scrunching a little bit, and Steve can sense the distress from Eddie, upset that he doesn’t understand.

“Half, two,” he volunteers.

Steve sighs, “yeah buddy, but-”

“No! Half two!” And then Eddie picks up two apple quarters and shoves them in his mouth, presumably to make the problem go away, crumbs of apple and juice dripping messily onto his chin as Eddie chews manically with his pointy teeth.

The kitchen dims a little, thick clouds scudding over the sun. Steve looks out of the window, it’s suddenly dark.

Red lightning flashes.

Eddie moves, leaning over the counter to slide a knife from the block, “half. Two.” He says, pressing the tip of the knife to his tail; black, thick blood wells up and starts to drip, and Steve stands frozen.

Eddie's eyes catch the light strangely, flashing silver, then they glow red as lightning crashes, “it’s for the best, Steve-”

Steve wakes with his heart pounding and a scream trapped in his throat; he feels like he can’t breathe, all of his body shaking and not obeying him, the sheets and blankets tangled around his legs. “Fuck fuck fuck,” he pants to himself, finally getting out of bed.

The light in the bathroom makes him feel better and he splashes his face and then drinks a little water right from the faucet. He sighs deep, just a dream.

Just a dream.

It takes ten minutes before Steve feels better but...even though it doesn’t make any sense at all, he needs to check. He just has to see Eddie, just for a second, to make sure he’s okay. Then he’ll come back to bed and everything will be fine.

Even though it’s completely fucking irrational, and Steve knows it is, he checks the knife block first; everything is set in it’s little slot, nothings missing...which, of course it isn’t. Of course it’s fine. He’s just being ridiculous.

The kitchen looks completely normal, even if it does feel a little sinister in the dark. Steve tells himself again that it’s just a dream.

The lounge is only illuminated by the moonlight from outside, but it’s enough to make out the curled up lump that is Eddie, sleeping on the couch.

Steve breathes a sigh of relief, even as he tells himself he’s being ridiculous.

“Stee?” It must have been enough to wake him, and Steve watches as Eddie’s head, somehow, pops out from amongst the tangled ball of tail and today's blue sweater. Steve’s let him have four and washes them on rotation. They don’t come completely clean – the grass stains are impossible, and the bottom edges are already ruinously frayed, but it’s fine, they’re only sweaters.

“Sorry, Buddy I...I had a nightmare.”

“Night...mare..?”

“Yeah a uhm,” Eddie shifts, and Steve sits next to him on the couch, “a bad dream, you know when you’re asleep?”

Eddie nods, “sleep, dark,” he points to the outside.

“Yeah, right so...do you ever see things, when you're asleep?” Eddie cocks his head, “like, uhm, TV. Like watching TV,” and Steve taps the side of his head.

Eddie takes Steve’s wrist, pulling his hand away, nodding furiously, “dark TV,” he uses Steve’s hand to tap the side of his own head, “many. Many all.”

“You dream? Every night?” Eddie nods. “What do you...what do you dream about?”

Eddie frowns, so Steve gets up, retrieving colored pencils and a larger notebook, he flicks on a lamp. Steve sits back next to Eddie, and using his woefully inadequate drawing skills, he makes out a couple of withered, spiky trees, shades the sky dark, draws swirls of black on the floor and a crackle of red lightning across the sky, “do you dream of this?”

Eddie’s mouth pops open, eyes wide with terror, he taps the paper urgently, “Stee? Stee in?? Many??”

“Yeah… Stee in, but not many.”

“Stee no! Stee not safe!” Eddie taps the paper, “Stee no! Bad bad!” Eddie's clearly horrified by the thought of Steve in The Upside Down.

“I won’t buddy okay, no more,” Steve taps the page, “finished.”

That seems to placate Eddie, he sits back, staring still at what Steve’s drawn, “dark TV,” he says quietly.

Steve gets his pencil and draws a stick figure with curly hair and a long pointed tail, he draws a little arrow and writes, ‘Eddie’, next to it, “Eddidie?”

“Yeah,” Steve tells him, “we call this place The Upside Down. That’s where you come from, The Upside Down.”

“The upside Down. Stee come from?”

“Hawkins Indiana.”

“Hawkins Indiana.”

“Yeah Buddy, that's where we are now. That’s what this place is called. Listen,” Steve draws another stick figure with a tail near to Eddie on the paper, “are there more like you there?” Steve taps his little drawing. Then he draws another stick figure mermaid, just for good measure.

“Yes.”

“Many?”

“Many many.”

“Do you...miss them?”

Eddie tilts his head.

“Okay Buddy, you and me, we’re friends,” Eddie nods, “and the kids. Birdie. Jon, Nancy. They’re our friends.” Steve taps the page again, “friend?”

Eddie shakes his head, “no,” he purses his lips, looks around, thinking, “Stee...pear, celery, grape?”

“Yeah, I know, food. That’s food.”

“Food...no many food in Upside Down.” Eddie taps the page, then hisses, clawing and biting the air a little.

“Fight. You had to fight them for food?”

“Fight. Yes,” Eddie takes the pencil and aggressively scribbles out the other two stick figure mermaids, Steve can’t help but chuckle.

“Well, you don’t have to fight anyone here buddy. No fight. All the pears are Eddie’s.”

Steve wakes up to something tickling his nose and something else digging viciously into his ribs. He feels a little attacked considering it’s first thing in the morning. He blinks awake, shifting, and his back screams at him.

Well fuck. The couch might look fancy, and it might be alright for sitting on, but it’s shit for sleeping on.

Especially when you’ve got a bony as fuck fish guy sleeping on you, “hi Eddie.”

“Hi Stee,” Eddie replies into the front of Steve’s shirt.

“Any more bad dreams?”

“No. No bad dreams. Stee good,” and Eddie pats Steve’s chest, “Stee dream?”

“No buddy, I’m all good too. But...if you do have bad dreams, you should come find me, okay? If you want to.”

“Stee find Eddidie?”

Which, yeah, Steve guesses, that is what happened last night, “yeah Buddy, like that.”

Eddie shifts again, and Steve realizes that it’s Eddie’s bony fucking elbows that might be trying to stab him in the guts, “we should get up,” and Eddie does, sitting up with no regard for the fact that means he’s sitting right on Steve’s lap – and his morning wood.

Eddie wriggles.

“Right, nope,” Steve sits, spreading his legs so that Eddie falls through and gets dumped onto the couch cushion, letting Steve slide away and stand up, “I’m going to go shower.”

“And Eddidie?”

“Yup, but you can go after me,” Steve is telling him, as Eddie follows him up the stairs.

That night, Steve isn’t even really asleep yet when he hears the quiet noise of Eddie making his way up the stairs. The soft susurration of Eddie moving across the carpet, and then the door being pushed the rest of the way open.

Steve lifts the covers, inviting Eddie in, “but take that off, it’s got dirty today,” Eddie does, pulling off the jersey and climbing in, lying face to face with Steve.

“Hi Stee,” Eddie whispers.

Steve smiles, “hi buddy,” he whisper back, “bad dream?”

Eddie nods.

“What about? Tell me?”

“Tell...dream?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie thinks, biting his lip a little, probably trying to work out how to explain it. Eventually he volunteers, “in Upside Down.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, because he figured as much.

Slowly, Eddie brings both hands up. He puts his palms on his cheeks, then covers his face with interlocked fingers. Steve has a mounting sense of horror; already certain he knows where this is going.

Slowly, Eddie lifts them, unlacing his fingers, like the spread of petals on his face.

“Demogorgon,” Steve whispers.

“Eddidie is food.”

Steve can’t really express the sheer amount of horror the thought fills him with, so he just pulls Eddie into a hug instead, “you’re safe now buddy. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

Steve actually manages to fall asleep alright with Eddie’s tail wrapped around his legs, and if he dreams, he doesn’t remember it, coming awake to the now familiar sound of a chair being dragged across the kitchen floor.

Steve heads downstairs to see what Eddie’s up to; he’s at the bottom step when the smell of coffee hits him, and he vaguely wonders if Robin or someone is here.

No. Just Eddie. He’s seen Steve work the coffee machine enough times to work it out for himself, obviously, and there’s a full cup waiting ready on the counter. On the table there’s a plate with a piece of dry toast on it, but there’s a jar of jelly from the fridge. A half full bowl of cereal (no milk) and a single pear.

“Eddie...did you make me breakfast?”

Eddie grins at him, and Steve just about rescues the mug of coffee from him before Eddie tries to make it across the kitchen one handed.

“Buddy this is...so good. Thank you so much.”

Part Ten

[pure-smut]

daddy.

featuring: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

contains: sneaky s*x, doggy, creampie, rough s*x, use of 'daddy' (ofc), unprotected s*x

word count: 1k

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

MDNI | 18+ content

masterlist

a/n: yay ty for this request! i'll do a separate one for 'mommy' bc that has yuji written all over it lmao enjoy daddy toji!!

@shinysp4rk

You’re at a dinner with your parents in their house with your boyfriend, Toji Fushiguro, so you know you shouldn’t act up. But when Toji’s sitting right next to you and he’s wearing that tight black shirt…

You really can’t help yourself.

You’ve been reaching under the table to squeeze his thigh throughout the starter, reaching slowly up higher and higher until it’s the main course and your hand is practically over his dick.

Toji’s been shooting you warning glances all night, trying hard to make small talk with your parents – not an easy feat for him at the best of times – but you’re relentless. When you reach up a little higher and palm his bulge through his jeans, Toji nearly jumps out of his seat.

He coughs a little too loudly, rising to his feet suddenly and strategically holding his napkin in front of his crotch.

“Uh, excuse me for sec,” Toji says, nodding apologetically to your parents before shooting you an angry look and walking out.

You hear him stomp upstairs to the bathroom.

“Sorry, he’s had a hard day at work,” you say with a shrug. “I’ll go check on him.”

Your parents exchange a look but nod agreeably as you follow Toji upstairs. He’s just coming out of the bathroom when you bump into him, a scowl on his face. Your eyes slide down to the obvious bulge in his jeans, a grin crawling across your lips.

“You didn’t manage to get rid of it?” you tease.

“It’s a process,” Toji growls back. “It’s going down and so help me god if you do anything to bring it back up-”

“I’m sorry,” you interrupt sweetly, sidling up to him to smooth your hand over his large chest. “Have I been bad, daddy?”

Toji’s not a man who’s easily caught off guard – in fact, he’s always one step ahead of you, always knows what you’re about to do before you do it.

But not this time.

Toji’s lips part and you feel him freeze under your touch.

“What did you just call me?” he chokes out.

“Hmm?” You play innocent, running your hand from his chest down his hard stomach, lifting yourself onto your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Daddy?”

Toji moves like lightning, snatching your wrist and dragging you down the hall. You barely have time to protest before he’s pushing you face first against the wall, his hand curled around the back of your neck to pin you in place. Toji’s other hand makes quick work of your panties, reaching under your dress to pull them roughly down.

He runs his fingers across your folds, testing how wet you are. You squeak in surprise at the feeling and his hand tightens around your neck.

“Stay fucking quiet,” Toji says lowly against the shell of your ear. You can hear the smile in his voice. “Your parents are downstairs, remember?”

You swallow thickly, hearing the muffled conversation between them in the dining room below your feet.

“You that desperate for daddy’s cock, hmm?” Toji continues, keeping his voice just above a deep whisper. “Actin’ up, teasin’ me, like such a needy little slut.”

You nod as much as you can, trapped between Toji’s large hand and the wall.

“Y-Yes, daddy,” you whisper back. “W-Want your cock.”

“Yeah, I can tell, fuck.” Toji smears your slick against your lips, in awe of how wet you are. “We need to be quick, princess, but I’ll give you a nice, long fuck tonight, hmm?”

“Yes, daddy, please.” You push your hips back, seeking him. “Please.”

“That’s a good girl.”

You feel Toji push his thick tip past your lips and brace yourself. He doesn’t usually let you take all of him without some prep first but you don’t have time for it right now. Still, when he pushes himself in, you have to bite your lip hard to keep from squealing out loud.

You stretch to accommodate him quickly, his girth pushing against all the nerves inside you as he fills you with his cock. Toji can feel you tense up so he reaches around under you to start playing with your puffy clit.

“Relax, baby,” he breathes against your ear. “Let me in.”

You exhale a shaky breath and try to force yourself to relax around him, the feel of his deft fingers on your clit making it easier.

Toji starts pump slowly, only going halfway so you don’t make any noise from skin slapping against skin. Even his shallow thrusts are enough for your breathing to turn ragged, his cock dragging along the nerves at your entrance combined with the tight circles he’s making on your clit.

Below you, you can hear the sounds of cutlery clanging against plates and footsteps as someone walks into the kitchen.

“Fuck, princess, daddy’s gotta be quick,” Toji groans in your ear, picking up speed.

You’re squeezing him so tight, your needy little hole massaging his cock in a way that’s making it hard for him to think. He wants to make you cum, wants to hear the desperate little noises you make as he draws orgasm after orgasm out of you, but that’ll need to be for later.

Right now, he’s painfully hard and on the brink of his own euphoria.

“You want daddy’s cum?” Toji’s cock throbs at his own words.

He doesn’t wait for you to respond before he unleashes himself inside you, cock twitching as he spurts thick ropes of cum deep in your dripping pussy. You both stay there for a moment, stifling your heavy breathing, as Toji presses kisses against your shoulder.

“Clean yourself up quickly before your parents notice,” he instructs, before kissing your neck. “And definitely call me that again tonight.”

masterlist

Support me on Ko-Fi! ♡

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Lando. I swear that boy and his hospital pics and turning up at the paddock still with his hospital bracelets!

Recovery smut thoughts???

Pity Fuck {1} || LN4

Part Two

“If you want this then lie still,” you warned him.

“But baby…”

“No, you’re meant to be resting,” you pointed out as you slowly began to rock your hips. “This is not resting.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you rode your boyfriend, trying to be gentle but also losing rhythm as your pleasure grew. Lando knew better than to argue so he let you have control, he would enjoy himself anyway. But he really wanted to put you on your back and pound into you.

His hands roamed your body before cupping your breasts and you opened your eyes to see his deft fingers pinch and roll your nipples. The plastic of his hospital wristband scraped across your skin and you shivered at the feel of it. "Can you please cut them off?"

Lando smirked as he pushed the band back up his forearm before gripping your hips and pulling you more vigorously down on his cock. He groaned as he felt his high coming from the gorgeous sight of your tits bouncing and his cock being buried deep inside you, but he was a gentleman and he would wait for you to come first. He knew it was only moment away from how tight your walls were around him and the slick heat running down your thighs.

"Oh, Lando, fuck," you moaned and he reached between your thighs to press his thumb to your clit. Bolts of lightning shot through you as his touch tipped you over the edge and you shuddered with your release, Lando quickly joining you.

You collapsed in relief before throwing yourself haphazardly away when you realised you probably hurt his bruised ribs, but he was still smiling in his happy haze. Unharmed.

He barely noticed you reach into his side drawer and find the pocket knife he had kept since he was a Cub Scout, but he did notice when he felt the tug on his wrist and the band snapped in two.

"Hey! I needed that," he complained as he picked up the reminder of his Vegas crash. "I still had at least three more pity fucks left."

"Boohoo, my love. You'll just have to survive with a regular fuck," you teased as you dropped it into the drawer with all the other random crap that had been amassed over the years. "Maybe I'll let you have my ass for your birthday."

His eyes lit up with the idea since he had been quietly hinting it at for a long time, but they quickly fell with a pout. "My birthday was last week."

You winked and got up to clean the mess between your legs. "It's a good thing they come around again every year."

His groan followed you to the bathroom and you laughed at his whine. "It's a whole year!"

Click here for his birthday.

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹。and my body keeps saying (it's yours) | gojo satoru

wc: 1.6k

summary: gojo thinks this is different, new, almost like it’s the first time for everything.

contains: f!reader in mind but no specifics are mentioned, 18+/mature/soft-slight n*ft/w, sex with feelings (it’s really just vanilla tho!), first time!, there’s an awkward bit but that’s intentional!, lots of nervous feelings! but also lots of intimacy!

a/n: for nonie.🫧 who asked about what it would be like for their first time! title is inspired by an emotional oranges song, devotion (which i used as music inspo for the entire fic too + troye sivan, what a heavenly way to die). this is also my first time writing anything close to n*fw so please be kind! idk if i’ll ever write one again; takes place between tell me about love (show me how) and so this is what it means to be in love!

collection masterlist: conversations on love 02. tell me about love (show me how) <- you are here -> +02 (extra). look my way, you're what i crave

MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT.

It’s a touch—

—fingertips brushing the edge of his jaw, trailing down his neck, lightly, delicately.

Gojo kisses you beneath the glow of your bathroom lights and he twitches, just a little bit. 

“Sorry,” you stop, attempting to pull away from him immediately. 

His neck is sensitive, always has been since Toji. The mark has faded over the years; what used to be a line running through the shadow of his jawline is now nothing, but you know the feeling lingers, still. You’ve tried to avoid the area as much as you could—while sparring, hugging, kissing; holding him in moments as intimate as this. But sometimes, your fingers slip, and he jolts, so you move away, apologetic—

And he wishes that you didn’t, wishes that he didn’t have to react that way when all he really wants is for you to hold him like this.

He stares at you now, lips puffed and kiss-bitten, and thinks, he shouldn’t even be here—

—at 2:00 a.m., in your apartment, fresh out of a three-day assignment he caught the last train for, just to see you. 

He shouldn’t even be here, bone-tired in a black t-shirt and track pants he couldn’t be bothered with—there just wasn’t enough time to change out of it. 

And he really shouldn't even be here, except, he cut the assignment two days short, rushed through it, restless, eager at the thought of getting back soon. 

All because he missed you. 

Gojo keeps you close, his fingers splayed on the base of your spine, warm and pressing. You can’t read him, his next move, but his eyes hold lightning crackling. He takes your hand and guides it back to where he’s weakest, underneath his jaw, on his neck—healed skin and tissue, his lifeline to you.

“Keep it,” he murmurs, eyes piercing. 

He still twitches when you touch his skin, but it’s always been involuntary. You should know that it could never be because of you, your hands that hold every good thing his heart carries. 

You lean in first, tiptoeing, nudging his nose with yours and your lips hovering. His pulse point rests beneath your fingertips—can you feel how fast it’s beating? Just from having you near him? 

The tips of his hair tickle your forehead and he swallows, throat bobbing. It’s impossible to resist him when he’s this boyish, this charming, so you kiss his lips once, before pulling away, teasing. He bites his lips, red blooming against pink, and you don’t know exactly what you’re anticipating—

But he leans in. 

When you kiss again, the feeling is familiar, a memory of trembling lips and shaky breaths by a bathroom door that isn’t yours. He doesn’t tremble anymore, isn’t as stiff when he has your lips memorized among many other things, but Gojo still flushes the same way your cheeks heat up and your breaths intermingle at the same rate your hearts race.  

You follow where the lights have diffused into your hallway, this dance with him a push-and-pull you’ve done a few times before. He keeps his palm flat on your lower back, pushing you closer, while pulling you towards your bedroom door.  

His hands slide to your waist, dipping you, grip tightening as you bite his lips, tugging. He moans softly, voice low when your hands rake through his hair, the vibrations rippling through your mouth. Your fingers grasp at the short strands of hair at the back of his head, sighing when his lips are released from yours. 

There’s a moment where you catch his eyes, pupils blown a dangerous blue—a sky swallowing you whole before he begins trailing kisses down your neck, nips and licks evidence of just how greedy he is with you. 

A heat builds within you, rooted deep in your belly as you stay pressed against the outline on his crotch. 

It’s hard to imagine a time before all this, how he even struggled to hold your hand when he touches you now like this. 

You stumble over his feet as he backs into your bedroom, steadied only by his hold on you. You chuckle, a small ‘oops’, so sweet, as your collarbone clashes with his teeth. He smiles, lips curled against your skin as he teases, “So clumsy,” 

He’s kissed you this much before, has held you this tight, and touched you much more but this feeling between you now, he can tell—

Tonight is different. 

You lead him this time, to the edge of your bed as you keep him closer, hands all over him. When you lie down, lower lip caught between your teeth, you smile shyly but your eyes burn sinfully, and Gojo wonders if you know that this is what he sees when he’s dreaming. 

He moves closer, your mattress dipping as he hovers above you, arms caging the sides of your face. His head is spinning, eyes zeroing in on the skin exposed by the single button undone on your pajama top. 

When you cup his cheeks, thumb running across his swollen lips—

He thinks he might go crazy. 

You have no idea what you just did. 

He takes a breath before pressing every bit of his longing onto your neck, kissing, sucking, licking, imprinting proof that he was here, with you. It’s red and blotchy, situated right underneath your ear and it’s one too many but still not enough—for him, never enough.

You gasp, tugging at the hem of his shirt, and it’s overwhelming, this feeling. As quickly as it escalated, Gojo freezes, as if you’ve burned him, as if he’s caught up to what could possibly be happening, and it’s—

It’s a lot. 

He pulls away slowly, eyes wide and breath shaky. The air is thick, hot and heavy, and this—where this is going is something he’s never done before, not entirely. 

You sit up, alarmed, hands cradling his face carefully. His eyes are frantic, nervous, blinking at a pace that only makes you worried. 

“We can stop,” you mumble, lowering your hands to take his, gently.

He sees you, hair a mess, marked his, beautiful, and  he just wants to make sure—that you’re okay with this, that you want this, with him. Truly. 

“Do you want to?” he asks, a sky you could fall into, “Honestly.” 

He breathes out, staring. You gulp before shaking your head. “Do you?”  

And he doesn’t have to think much about it, really, because of course, he doesn’t want to stop. 

How could he, when it’s you?

He shakes his head too and you smile.

You squeeze his hand, guiding it to the buttons of your top, “Okay—”

“We’ve never…” he hesitates, trailing off.

It’s weird because it isn’t anything he hasn’t seen before; you’ve both done things at the very least, just never all the way. And now, with the knowledge that that very fact is going to change—it feels different, new, like it’s the first time for everything. 

You nod, stroking his knuckles to reassure him, “You said you’re a fast learner, right?” 

The nervous laugh you give is oddly comforting, and he remembers that first kiss and the single thought that if he doesn’t do this now, how much longer ‘till he does? 

So he takes it—

—unbuttons your top one-by-one, and he’s a bit shaky, hands clammy, but he gets it off eventually. Then goes his shirt, and your shorts, his pants, a struggle to get past his ankles until you’re both bare, cheeks hot while giggling, like first loves—and maybe it is. 

Gojo sees you stripped down, uncovered, wholly you for the first time and thinks he could die. 

It’s vulnerable and strange as he hovers over you this time, skin-to-skin, but you fit together this way, just right. 

You giggle some more, unable to hide your nervousness. It’s a habit you have—laughing in inappropriate situations, but he thinks it’s cute, so he does it right back. 

Your fingers trace his eyebrows, down to his nose and cheeks, then to his lips, still red and bitten, “You’re so pretty, Satoru. Not fair.” 

He blushes, tips of his ears and neck flushing, “‘Course,” he kisses your nose, pulling away to get a good look at you.

“Have to be if I’m with you.” 

It’s cheesy, and you roll your eyes, laughing full-on but he smiles wider and it feels good knowing that he’ll forever get to share this moment with you. 

“I, uh,” he mumbles, trying to find the words, “have to prep.” 

“Oh, yeah, right,” you move, hands reaching for him between you, but he catches your wrist before you touch him, stopping you. 

“Don’t,” he says, firm, face red as he looks straight at you. “I might not…” he doesn’t continue but you know what he means, so you nod, pulling away. 

His hand trails down your body, inching closer to where you need him to be, and it’s sweet you think, because he kisses your lips once before asking, “Can I?” as if he still has to.

You nod, before whispering, “Don’t ask next time.” 

Next time, you said and it rings, echoes in his head as a promise for more—that this is just the beginning. 

So he touches you, in every way he thinks you should be, in every way he knows you want to be. 

There’s a gasp, then a moan as he leaves another mark on your neck, and you’re so close when he stops. 

You whimper, but you know what’s next, and you see it in his eyes as he prepares himself, fingers discarding a square packet, “You’ll let me know?” he whispers, soft, concerned.

You’ll let me know if I hurt you? he means, and his eyes stare into yours, sincere. 

You nod, brushing your lips against his, and when you feel it—it’s unusual, maybe a bit uncomfortable but he’s there kissing it away. 

There’s an adjustment, a few awkward positions until he finds it, then he goes slow, rhythmic. Your sighs grow louder and he groans, withholding, then you say it—

“‘Toru,”

—by his ear, soft and breathy, and he’s gone, stilling and spilling, a part of him forever yours, irrevocably. 

thank you notes: to nonie.🫧 for asking about this in the first place, and to niku (@stellamancer) for emotional support and for reading this first!! + for helping me go over it!! i love u niku 😭

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[adragonprinceswhore]

Sexting & Taking Nude Pics w/ Hockey player!Aemond

Warnings: 18+, smut, AFAB reader, naughty pictures, degradation, teasing, masturbation, edging, manhandling, orgasm denial, P in V

A/N: Sometimes ovulation wins.

Inspired by this amazing art by @novembermorgon 🩵

“Where's my reward?”

An amusement snort leaves your nose. The game only ended a few moments ago, yet he's greedily demanding that you send him what you'd promised.

“Only winners get rewarded”

“I won.”

You smile to yourself as you type, fingers quickly moving over the screen.

"We won*"

"Whatever. Send it."

"Winning by sudden death doesn't count. You should've scored before it went into overtime"

You see him typing, but knowing Aemond, the reply won't be a long one. The delayed answer is due to him not knowing what to say.

God, you love tormenting him.

In all fairness, you were just quoting what he'd told you before. Winning a match that goes into overtime means that the other team scores a point, even if they lose. "If you can't beat them in 60 minutes, you didn't win", he'd said.

"I'll do better next time. Please, send it."

Usually, it'd take more to make him beg. He must be desperate.

You're still smiling as you close your eyes momentarily, imagining him sneaking off to one of the bathrooms by the locker room, still breathing hard from the strenuous match and with sweat covering his face, droplets sliding down his neck and disappearing inside his away jersey.

If you were there, you'd help him out of the white shirt and shoulder pads, planting tender kisses to his wet neck, secretly craving the taste of his salty skin. He always smelled his best straight after a game.

Maybe you'd get a bit carried away and let your tongue glide over the smooth skin over his adam's apple, prompting him to huff in proud amusement as he teases you for being such a needy slut.

Unfortunately, he’s not playing home in Old Town tonight and you're not there to greet him as he exits the ice.

Instead, you've agreed on a different arrangement. Whenever his team wins a match, you send him a little reward.

Today, it’s a picture of your ass, clad in a black thong you know he likes. It had taken you a good 30 minutes to get the position, lightning and angle of your camera just right, and you weren't about to spoil that on someone who can't beat the Winterfell Dires before overtime.

"Only winners get rewarded. Do better."

Still smiling, you bite your lip to calm yourself.

You can picture it so clearly; Aemond frustratingly exhaling through his nose at your unwillingness to give him what he craves.

He's not much better himself. He's teased you to the brink of madness before; edged you until you couldn't think of anything but him.

You feel a dizzying yet pleasant rush of power wash over you as your screen lights up again.

"Please, baby. I need you"

Mischief makes the smile on your face grow wider.

"I don't entertain losers"

Oh he must be fuming. Running his hand over his face in annoyance, clicking his tongue, thinking of all the ways he wishes to make you submit to his will.

Surely only making his balls ache more with need.

"Please, I've thought about this all night. I'm so fucking hard."

Warmth spreads in your chest. You know he only wants you; that he's just as insatiable for you as you are for him.

Yet, opportunities to tease him like this do not come often.

"There's plenty of porn online. Enjoy!"

If you were with him right now, this is where he would've had enough. Picking you up and throwing you on the bed, climbing on top of you and caging you in. Pressing his heavy bulge against your core, lowly murmuring "If you don't shut up, I'll make you" into your ear.

But the distance between the two of you has robbed Aemond of his cockiness.

"Please."

"Show me"

Your mouth waters as you open the image he sends you. The large hand he has around his shaft holds on to it firmly, veins on the back of his hand and down his forearm popping out from the intense blood flow. The tip of his cock looks vexed; bright red and glistening with arousal. You press your thighs together, no longer able to ignore the pounding growing fiercer.

You type even faster than before.

"What are you thinking about right now?"

"You. About how badly I wish you were here. About how I'd fuck you in this filthy bathroom as the lads are getting ready outside"

Defeated by your own desires, you send him the picture of your ass before putting away your phone, closing your eyes and allowing your hand to travel down between your thighs.

You can see him clear as day. He's grabbing the side of the white sink with one hand, the other furiously stroking his length, eyes glued to the screen of his phone as it rests on the ceramic surface.

He's panting; biting his lip and huffing loudly through his nose. Sweat slides down from his forehead to his flustered cheeks, pooling above his parted lips, dripping down.

Staring at his reward, he thinks back to all the ways he's had you. In your flat, in his car, in the bathroom of that high-end restaurant.

His grip on the sink tightens, thinking about how he'd grabbed the flesh of your ass so harshly it left marks as he pounded into you, causing your unabated moans to echo through the room.

He bites his lip to stop the words from spilling;

"My little slut", "My dirty girl", "My good whore”

Mine.

Mine.

Aemond runs the soft pad of his thumb on your cheeks, collecting the tears of frustration spilling from your tired eyes.

“Poor thing can’t take a bit of teasing”

He’s tone is infuriatingly smug, tutting and interrupting you when you open your mouth to protest.

”Doesn’t feel nice, does it?”

No, it doesn’t feel nice.

Or does it?

You honestly don’t know what’s pleasurable anymore, being forced to the edge of pleasure but denied release time and time again.

Aemond’s fingers, lips, tongue and teeth had coaxed you into pleasure-drunk submission. They’d made you beg for permission to cum, cry for permission to cum, plea for permission to cum. But to no avail.

“Tell you what-”, he starts, seeing eye boring into yours with an intensity only ignited when he was feeling particularly bloodthirsty.

“-I’ll take some photos of you, to enjoy when I win next week’s away game, and then I’ll let you cum”

You’re beyond feeling embarrassed, head instantaneously moving up and down in a furiously eager sign of compliance.

Aemond’s teeth sink into his bottom lip to stop the amusement bubbling up inside of him from making itself know.

He must admit that he likes you best like this; completely at his mercy. His to do whatever he wants with.

Grabbing his phone from the nightstand next to the bed he’s got you caged within his arms in, he swipes his thumb over the screen to open the camera.

He admires you through the lens. The way the short, delicate hairs by your hairline stick to your sweaty forehead. The way your naked breasts still heave from exhaustion; skin damp and glistening. The way your agape mouth pants softly.

And then, your features change.

“Stop doing that”

“What?”

Aemond looks stern, like he’s about to lecture you, “Faking it. You’re posing”

“I’m not!”, you defend yourself with a high-pitched protest.

“You are”

Mind still fuzzy from the strenuous, extensive foreplay Aemond had insisted upon, you don’t know how to appease him.

What does he want?

Sensing your confusion, he places two large palms on each side of your waist, leans down to offer you a soft kiss, and flips you over so you’re on your stomach.

Being manhandled by Aemond while your senses have left your head and relocated to your throbbing centre feels comforting, so when he grabs your hips to pull your ass up, you mumble a muffled “thank you” into the mattress.

He always moves your body with soft yet commanding hands, making his display of dominance feel more like an act of adoration and care.

And he’s always so warm, soothing your exposed skin from the chill air of the hotel room.

“Look at me”, he commands softly, tracing his fingers from the small of your back down to the velvety skin of your buttocks.

Turning your head to the side, you meet his eye, watching as he picks up his phone once more with one hand, while the other grabs his hard length, stoking it briefly before lining it up with your dripping cunt.

As he finally enters you, after god knows how much excruciating teasing, you feel your body turn into jelly; pliable to his every whim.

Your fists grab the sheets of his bed with a cramp-like grip, your mouth falls open with a loud moan, and your back arches in pleasure.

And you hear a click.

Aemond smiles behind the camera, satisfied with getting the picture he’d wanted all along. He moves it down to inspect the way you eagerly take him in, swallowing his cock over and over like the greediest of gluttons.

Enthralled, he admires the way he goes in and out; stretching and shaping you from the inside.

He puts his phone to the side, both hands once again finding home in the dip of your waist. His eye flickers to your bliss-filled face, an amused, condescending laugh leaves his lips,

“Are you drooling?”

You don’t care about his taunting anymore; too filled with him to care about anything else. Aemond moves forward, resting his face right next to yours.

The damp skin of his cheek sticks to yours, his breath fans hot air over your face,

“You’re so pretty like this”

You wait for him to kiss your cheek and award your endurance by finally paying attention to your aching clit.

Instead, he leans back once more, and pulls out.

“Aemond!”, you cry, unable to hide the utter devastation you feel at being denied your peak yet again.

“If you want to come you’ll have to work for it”

He’s smug again, enjoying your desperation a bit too much for your liking. Irritated and impatient, you push him to lay on his back and sink down on him in a selfish attempt to chase your own pleasure.

To your surprise, he allows you to take command; placing one of his hands on your hip, thumb coming down to flick your clit. The other hand picks up his phone again.

“You’re close?”

“Y-, yes”

His thumb continues to rhythmically circle your bundle of nerves as the grip he has on you tightens. His hips roll up to meet yours each time you sink down.

You grab his bicep, anchoring yourself to him with nails that harshly dig into his flesh.

So close.

A few more rhythmic movements and you feel fierce pleasure erupt inside of you, causing your mouth to fall open again as you whine out your pleasure.

Click.

Click.

Click.

You’re still sitting on him, breathing heavily as you try to catch your breath and come back to reality after feeling the release of seven denied orgasms wash over you.

Suddenly, you’re on your back again, Aemond hovering over your panting form. Your face is flustered and your hair is even messier than it was before.

Click.

The smug smile on his face has morphed into pride, and perhaps there’s something more, something far more vulnerable than he’s ever allowed himself to show you, hiding behind his miss-matched gaze.

“Gevie”

Thank you for reading! I have an idea for an upcoming part about these two, but with loads of angst as well 🤩 lmao you know I can’t help myself! Kisses 😙

[peppermintquartz]

The storm is keeping Buck awake, and he hates it. He's got the curtains fully drawn, he is safely indoors, and he's just had two rounds of very good sex with Tommy, who's currently asleep on his side of the bed, a thick arm thrown around Buck's waist.

But Buck can't sleep. Every roll of thunder makes him flinch. Even the flickers of light that sneak onto the apartment walls make his eyes twitch. He bets that if he measures his pulse, it'll be racing. And he can feel his bad leg beginning to ache from the tension he's trying to contain in his body.

He wills himself to just close his eyes, tough it out. Maybe do the slow breathing thing those zazen meditation videos talk about.

After about twenty slow breaths he gives up. Carefully easing himself out from under Tommy's arm, he goes to the kitchen and sits at the table.

He's seen the scars after the lightning strike, branching out like roots of a tree. Something about it had scared Buck to his core that first time he saw it. It was a visceral reminder of the sheer power that had coursed through him that night, and how much it took the others to bring him back.

"Evan?" Tommy's voice filters down from the top of the stairs, quiet and curious. *Are you okay?"

That's his boyfriend, always checking in on him. Buck doesn't know what he has done in this lifetime to deserve Tommy, and he knows Tommy has the same question about Buck as well. He turns in his chair and smiles up at Tommy, even though it's probably too dim to see his expression. "I'm okay. Mostly. Did I wake you?"

"Not really, no. I thought you were using the bathroom." Tommy comes down the stairs without turning on the lights, already used to the layout. He comes up behind Buck and wraps an arm across the front of his shoulders, before kissing the top of Buck's head. "Mostly okay means something's not okay. What's not okay?"

Buck exhales a chuckle. "I love you, you know that?"

"I love you too." Tommy pulls a chair close and drops into it. He takes Buck's hands between his own. "And you're not answering me."

"The storm. Lightning." Buck swallows and lowers his head. Not shame, not exactly, but a little abashed at having to admit to a weakness. As if Tommy hasn't already admitted his fear of enclosed spaces and diving. As if Tommy doesn't have a near-pathological obsession to check their smoke alarms and CO detectors.

Tommy tugs Buck out of his chair and onto his lap, with minimal resistance from Buck. Tommy's chair squeaks a mild complaint. "Wake me up next time," Tommy scolds gently, nipping Buck's earlobe. "I can't hold back a storm, but I can hold you."

"You need the sleep, you have a 48 starting in another six hours."

"And I only have one Evan Buckley," Tommy counters. His embrace tightens around Buck, and it's a wonder how Buck never feels caged in or trapped with Tommy's arms around him. "I'm with you rain and shine, good and bad."

"Shouldn't it be 'or'?"

"No," says Tommy, his voice rough from sleep. "In every situation, I'm with you."

Buck smiles and kisses the tip of Tommy's nose. "Back to bed," he whispers. "Be my big spoon tonight. Maybe that will help."

It does help, a little. Buck doesn't really fall fully asleep, but he feels safe when his body twitches in response to each roll of thunder. And through the night, Tommy doesn't let him go.

--

edit: now on AO3

[c1qfxugcgy0]

adventures in aerospace

So I recently started working at Large Aircraft Manufacturer. (LAM) The plant I work at employs 30,000 people. The company as a whole employs 170,000. Usually you only hear about LAM when something goes wrong. But no matter how bumbling it seems from the outside, it's way worse on the inside.

Three months after my first day, I have been "graduated" from "training." In reality, I'm still completely worthless on the floor: the training center has given me a paltry subset of the production certificates I need to actually to do my assigned job. A commonly cited statistic at LAM is that a hundred men a day are retiring, each one representing decades of experience, walking out the door, forever. The training center is in the unenviable position of managing a generational replacement, and have resorted to shoveling heaps of zoomers through as fast as possible. (As one of the few people with a visible hairline and who is not wearing a Roblox graphic tee; I am frequently mistaken for an instructor, and asked where the bathroom is, what time the next class starts, etc)

In theory, the training center knows what shop I'm assigned to, and can simply assign me all the required classes. In practice, they do the absolute minimum amount of training in a desperate attempt to relive the crowding in their handful of computer labs and tell graduates to pick up their certs later.

Of course, the irresistible force of the schedule meets the immovable object of the FAA. If you don't have the required production certificate to perform a particular job, you don't touch the airplane. Full stop, end of story.

And so the curtain opens on the stage. It reveals a single senior mechanic, supervising a mechanic who finally received all the certs and is being qualified on this particular job, surrounded by another three trainees. Trainees are less than nothing, absolute scum. At best we can fetch and carry. Mostly we are expected to stay out of the way. And the senior mechanic is only senior in title. He is one of six assembler-installers who is certified to actually work on the plane, out of twenty people on the crew, and spends every day with a permanent audience. He is 23 years old.

("Mechanic"? If you think the jargon at your job is bad, try joining a company that's a century old. Assembler-installers are universally referred to as "mechanics", despite doing work that's nothing like what a car mechanic does, and who are generally paid far worse than FAA certified A&P mechanics. Mechanics are the 11 bravos of LAM, grunts, the single largest category of worker. The tip of the spear. Hooah!)

Large Aircraft Manufacturer is in a dilly of a pickle. All of its existing airframe designs are hilariously antiquated. It tried designing a brand new plane from a clean sheet, and lost billions of dollars to a decade-long integration hell. After that, to save money, it tried just tacking bigger engines on an older design without changing anything else, and the stupid things plowed into the ground in an excruciatingly public manner.

LAM is now trying a middle road. It is upgrading one of its designs that is merely middle aged, rather than ancient, and with proven, de-risked components built in-house, rather than scattering them to subcontractors across the world. And it's still blowing past deadlines and burning billions of dollars LAM really doesn't have to spare.

This is the program I've been assigned to.

Advanced Midbody - Carbon Wing has taken the bold step of just tacking on carbon fiber wings to a conventional aluminum fuselage. Shockingly, AMCW is now stuck in lightning strike testing, due to that troublesome join between conductive aluminum and conductive...ish carbon fiber. But LAM, confident as ever, or perhaps driven by complaints of its customers, has announced that full rate production will begin just next year. Thus the tide of newhires. According to the schedule, we're supposed to jerk from one wingset a month to one wingset a week. That's not going to happen, but, oh well, orders from above move down at the speed of thought, while reality only slowly trickles upwards.

"120 inch pounds? Really?"

I startle upright. I have observed one hundred pi bracket installs, and I will observe a hundred more before I can touch aircraft structure. This is the first disagreement I've witnessed. A more advanced trainee is questioning the torque spec on a fastener. It is not an entirely foolish question-- most sleeve bolts we use are in the 40 in-pounds range. Doubling it that is unusual. I cough the dust off my unused vocal cords and venture an opinion.

"Well hey I could look it up? I guess"

The lead mechanic glances at me, surprised that I'm still awake, then looks away. Excuse enough for me!

I unfold myself from the stool I've been sitting on for the last four hours then hobble over to the nearest Shared Production Workstation.

We do not get Ikea-style step by step instructions on how to put together the airplane. Like any company that's been around for long enough, LAM is a tangled wad of scar tissue, ancient responses to forgotten trauma. If you state a dimension twice, in two different places, then it is possible for an update to only change one of those dimensions, thereby making the engineering drawing ambiguous. Something real bad must have happened in the past as a result of that, so now an ironclad rule is that critical information is only stated once, in one place, a single source of truth.

As a result, the installation plan can be a little... vague. Step 040 might be something like "DRILL HOLE TO SIZE AND TORQUE FASTENERS TO SPEC". What hole size? What torque spec?

Well, they tell you. Eventually.

(Image from public Google search)

You are given an engineering drawing, and are expected to figure out how things go together yourself. (Or, more realistically, are told how it's done by coworkers) Step by step instructions aren't done because then dozens of illustrations would have to be updated with every change instead of just one, and drawings are updated surprisingly frequently.

Fasteners are denoted by a big plus sign, with a three letter fastener code on the left and the diameter on the right, like so: "XNJ + 8"

To get the actual part number, we go to the fastener callout table:

(Note the use of a trade name in the table above. There is nothing a mechanic loves more than a good trademark. Permanent straight shank fasteners are always called HI-LOKs™. It's not a cable tie, it's a Panduit™. It's not a wedgelock, it's a Cleco™. Hey man, pass me that offset drill. What, you mean a Zephyr™? Where'd the LAMlube™ go? This also means you have to learn the names of everything twice, one name on the installation plan, and one name it's referred to in conversation.)

We find XNJ on that table, and fill in the diameter: BACB30FM8A. Now we look up the spec table for that fastener:

The eagle eyed among you might note that there is no "diameter: 8" on that table. As a LAM mechanic, you are expected to simply know that "diameter" is measured in 32nds of an inch, which simplifies down to 1/4.

(LAM preserves many old-school skills like fraction reduction and memorizing decimal equivalents like this, like flies caught in amber. Not least is the universal use of Imperial units. Many American manufacturers have been browbeaten into adding parenthetical conversions. Not LAM! Any risk at all of a mechanic seeing a second number and using it by accident is too great, and anyway, it violates SSOT. Lengths are in inches and feet, weights are in pounds, volume is in gallons and if you don't like it then you can go eat shit!)

After 10 minutes of following references, I arrive at that table, print it off, highlight the correct row, and hand it off to my senior mechanic.

"Great, thanks."

Gratified that I have enhanced shareholder value, I sit back down, and immediately fall asleep. Another day living the dream.

(next post in this series)

[maxineryx]

Seeing Dazai without bandages is like winning the lottery, getting struck by lightning, seeing a blue moon, or managing to buy the first three volumes of your favourite manga from the bookstore.

It's a chance close to zero.

Well, none of those things have happened to you yet, including seeing Dazai without bandages. Though, you believe this was even rarer than all those other things listed above because every time you spotted him unwrapping them in the bathroom, he softly shooed you out, or closed the door. You never got an explanation for why, but you had a solid idea of what it might have been.

You weren’t a stranger to Osamu’s past. You knew of all the things he did and who he was, but he was given a second chance, so naturally you put that all behind you and never asked any questions. And of course, most of the things you’ve heard weren’t actually from him. He’s never gone into depth about what used to happen in the Port Mafia. Nor has he ever mentioned any battles, or any struggles he might have faced. However, you were sure that there were some stories to tell under those bandages.

You were also sure that those ‘stories’ might not be as pleasing to hear or to tell, so you never pressured him to talk.

Although, sometimes you just wished he confided in you, because you were together, after all. He knew many secrets of yours, pleasant and unpleasant, and you knew that none of those secrets were even comparable to what he must have gone through.

You just wanted him to tell you, to show you, even if it was a little so that you could lift that guilt off his caring heart to make him feel better.

You and Osamu came home from work a couple of hours ago, when the sun was already set, stars twinkling above. It was dark inside your shared home, the only light source being the bright, white lights around the rectangular-shaped mirror, as you sat on the counter, already showered and face taken care of.

You were watching Dazai apply some moisturizer to his face. His long coat was gone, along with all his other clothes that hid his top half. The only thing stopping you from seeing his skin were the bandages.

“You like to stare, don’t you?” He asked in his usual, playful tone, pausing to take a glance at you before resuming his skincare. “I mean, I don’t blame you. I’m breathtaking.”

Rolling your eyes, you mumbled a ‘yeah, yeah, whatever’, to which he started tickling you, your laughter echoing throughout the house.

“It’s getting late. You should go to bed, I’ll join you in a few minutes.” Osamu said, kissing the tip of your nose.

You frowned. “I don’t feel tired at all,” you started, smiling, hoping he’d agree for the first time, “I’ll wait for you, I mean, how long can it take?”

He sighed, though it wasn’t an annoyed sigh. He helped you get off the counter, gently grabbing your arms, before walking you out. You stopped in your tracks, earning a confused expression from him.

“Osamu… why do you never let me stay? Every night, you push me out without giving me an explanation.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” He put a hand softly atop your head. “You know I don’t want you to see what’s under these bandages…I don’t want to scare you.”

“You’ll never scare me, no matter what I’ll see. I thought you knew that.” You replied, not breaking eye contact. You could start seeing the unease in his eyes as he averted his gaze.

“It’s not that.” He whispered, “You haven’t seen me in the Port Mafia. You didn’t know the Port Mafia executive, Dazai Osamu, because you only know the new Dazai Osamu. And even though I am him, my body still represents the Port Mafia executive, and it always will. I want you to know what I am now, not what I was back then.”

There was a lengthy silence as he removed his hand from your head.

“‘samu,” Instantly, you cup his cheeks, bringing his head down a little so that you could stare into his eyes intensely. Dazai’s eyes flashed with uncertainty and slight shame, something you’d never seen him feel before.

“You’re right. I didn’t know Dazai Osamu from the Port Mafia, but I’ve heard of him. You’re the man I love, ‘samu, nothing could make me fear you, or walk away from you. You were given a second chance and second chances aren’t common in life. Even if your body carries horrible memories, it doesn’t mean that that’s the person you are. The man I love is caring, loving, protective, charming, amazing… and all the other positive words I could use forever.

So please, let me care for you.”

His hands were holding your wrists as you never let go of his face. Tears were bubbling up in your eyes, heart racing from all the emotions. His bottom lip was slightly trembling as he looked at the floor, before letting go of your wrists and turning around, walking back into the bathroom. He didn’t ask you to leave.

And this time, it was you who was unbandaging him as he sat patiently, though averting his gaze for most of the time. It would take time to get him to be comfortable, but you were more than happy to go slow if it meant that he wouldn’t feel as much guilt as before.

So no, you didn’t win the lottery, get struck by lightning, see a blue moon, or manage to buy the first three volumes of your favourite manga at the bookstore, but you did get to see Dazai without bandages. All those things couldn’t even compare to that.

————————

A:N - I’m back after a looooong writing break… just a lil thingy to warm myself up before writing anything longer

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw (Simon and his swimmer gf)

Simon has saved all the photos and footages in his phone, ranging from your daily practices to your competitions, he stores them in a hidden folder, and when he’s deployed, after a long day of training, he’ll drag his legs back to his quarters, body all sweaty and sore. Kick open the bathroom door or shove down his boxers, open one of your videos—that one you took when just finished training, still wearing that speedo and dripping with water, looking at the camera and say with a pout “Miss you so much, Simon. Are you doing good?” You angled your phone highly, made sure he can see the droplets disappear into your barely-exposed cleavage. And He’ll stroke his cock, hard and fast that it almost looked painful, tip red furiously and leaking so much just from watching you tease him that it lubes his palm entirely. He loves and hates when you tease him, pushing his buttons just right and makes him want to fuck you until you’re apologizing stupidly, but he has to wait, wait till the day he can finally go home and take that pretty pussy, and he comes in his hand with a frustrated growl, he missed you too, and he’s been counting the days to meet you again.

If he’s on leave, he’ll follow you to the gym sometimes, sitting on the bench beside the swimming pool, fascinated by how you gracefully swimming in the water, the curves of your lithe body fully shown to him with each lifts and drops of your legs and arms, but he gets jealous sometimes, will stand behind you like a wolf guarding its mate when some blokes try to flirt with you, or if they dare stare at you longer than necessary, and soon all the athletes in the gym knows not to be too intimate with you to avoid the wrath of your bulky and broody man.

Simon’s a cheeky bastard too, he’ll move to stand behind you when you climb out the pool to take a break, fingers hooked under the hem of your speedo, trace along the clothes between your thighs, just barely touching your pussy lips before pulling away swiftly. If you suck in a breath at his antic and glare at him half-heartedly, he will lean down to whisper with a chuckle right into your ear “Just helping you adjust the clothing, sweetheart.”

When you leaving home and out for a week to compete, he will sit in front of the television an hour before your turn to compete, don’t want to miss any chance of you on the screen even if it’s just a few frames here and there. His eyes only on you, and he believes in your skills, holding breath when you dive into the pool, swimming in lightning speed and reach the end first, and spamming texts to other 141 members about you winning the competition again, until Gaz jokes and calls him a lovesick puppy.

But his monkey minds kick in when he sees you stand on the podium, holding up your gold medal proudly with the most lovely smile he could ever imagine from a human being. His mind wanders back to you in the speedo again, hair damp and splay across your shoulders, the exertion from swimming painted your cheeks pink.

So when you finish freshening up and finally have time to call him, he’s already humping your pillow, coming immediately when your voice hits his ear, calling him Simon in that sweet tone before realizing what he’s doing.

“Are you-are you doing what I…?!” You’re voice stutter in disbelief and more with arousal, his low groans and hums come out of the speakers so clearly, making your thighs rub together subconsciously, the clean panties you just put on will pool with your juices when you lie back on the hotel room’s bed, playing with your clit and stuff two slender fingers into your squelchy cunny— god, how you wish they are his thick fingers, which can stretch you full with only two fingers— listening to him pumping his cock and shamelessly admit to you “Yeah, ‘m humping your pillow now, princess. Come back quickly tomorrow so I can fill up that needy cunt of yours properly. Our little champion deserves a congratulation after winning, yeah?”

[impala-dreamer]

You Only Want Me When You're High

A Story from The Boys Universe

~ As the newest and most useless recruit to The Boys, Y/N is tasked with keeping an eye on Soldier Boy while Butcher sorts things out. Annoyed to be given such a ridiculous job, she tries to keep the defrosted supe at arm’s length, but there’s something in the drugs and in his eyes that makes him hard to resist…~

Soldier Boy (Ben) x F!Reader, Hughie Campbell, Billy Butcher

5,426 Words

NSFW, Sexual Acts, Excessive Drug Use, Just NSFW all around… 

“I’m going to put my clothes on before you say anything else” for @jacklesversebingo

JacklesBingo Masterlist ~ My Full Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

Sunlight illuminated a cloud of bluish-gray smoke and Ben took another hit. He breathed deeply, willing the drugs to seek out every cell in his preternaturally powerful body and corrupt them long enough to give him a little buzz. 

It wasn’t easy. It would take enough drugs to kill a mortal for him to feel that sweet high, but excess was a word he wasn’t familiar with.

Eyes closed, he exhaled another stream of musky vapor into the rented room. He felt his brain shift to the left for a quick second as a faint bit of dizziness struck him. He grinned, leaned back against the headboard, and stretched his long legs over the hideous bedspread. 

“There it is…” 

Another hit boosted his mood and Soldier Boy sighed happily, momentarily at peace.   

He cracked open an eye when the bathroom door opened. 

He licked his lips when Y/N walked out with a dingy white towel wrapped tight around her damp body; her hair pinned up and safe from the shower. 

He whistled when she crossed the room, heading for her duffle bag. 

“Fuck off,” she snapped, rolling her eyes as his grew darker and more locked on her form. 

Ben chuckled under his breath. “Hey, sweetheart, you can’t walk around naked like that and expect me not to get stiff.” 

He shifted on the bed, tugging at his pants to accommodate the growing length against his thigh. She stared at his hand as it teased the shadow creasing the fabric, and swallowed hard. He was gorgeous but the price of a quick romp wasn’t worth the pain in the ass. 

He winked. 

She groaned. “Asshole.” 

“Oh, come on-” Ben took a long pull on the blunt and held it in, voice tight on the inhale. He grabbed his cock. “You know you want some of this.”

“The weed yes…” She turned her back on him, grabbed the bag, and tugged open the noisy zipper.  “Your dick… no.” 

He scoffed. “You’re shit at lying, Y/N.” 

Her cheeks burned but she tried to ignore him as she searched the bag for her clothes. “Am I?” 

The wide tip of his pink tongue flashed over his lips and Ben sat up, focusing on her. “Sure are,” he replied, tracing her spine with his gaze. “You’ve been acting like you don’t want to get on your knees, but I know you’re hot as hell for me. You’d suck my dick in a second if I whipped it out right now, wouldn’t you?” 

He watched the muscles in her back tighten as she struggled to hide the shiver that slid from head to toe. 

“You’re a pig.” 

“Maybe.” He shrugged and leaned back again, bringing the joint to his lips. “Don’t mean I’m not right.” 

Y/N glared at him over her shoulder. “Butcher should have left you on ice.”

Ben grinned. “I’m still a little chilly,” he teased. “Why don’t you come warm me up?” 

“In your dreams, Grandpa.”

He patted his thigh. “Come on, Sweet Cheeks, hop on up here and show me those perky tits.” 

Arousal and anger swirled in her gut and Y/N grit her teeth. “Things don’t work like that anymore. You can’t just snap your fingers and have women swoon over you. This isn’t the ‘40s.” Her glare cut through him as sure as Homelander’s laser eyes could and his nostrils flared in annoyance. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to put my clothes on before you say anything else.” 

She turned to head back to the bathroom, but he moved like lightning, blocking her path. She gasped when his big hand locked around her arm. 

“What are you doing?” She twisted her hand to break free and the bundle of clothes fell to the floor. “Let me go.” Her voice was shaking but as firm as she could make it. 

He laughed and tightened his fingers around her wrist. “Your pulse is racing.” 

She looked up and sneered. “That’s because you’re annoying the crap out of me.” 

“Or maybe, it’s because you want me to do this-” 

Soldier Boy tugged her arm and she crashed against his firm chest. She inhaled quickly, sucking in the heat of him, the dark woody scent of his body, and the stink of the drugs. Her head clouded and he took advantage, pressing his lips to hers in a rough kiss. Unconsciously, she opened for him and his hot tongue snaked against hers. She couldn’t hide the way her heart pounded- he could hear it. She couldn’t conceal the flush of her skin- he could feel it. She couldn’t obscure the dampness between her legs- he could smell it.  

When he let her go, Y/N stumbled back and shook her head to clear her vision. 

Towering over her, Ben smirked proudly and licked her taste from his lips. “Told ya.” 

Her palm cracked hard against his cheek and he cringed for her benefit. 

“Fucking asshole!” 

Staring up into his emerald eyes, she felt herself weaken but refused to give in. She hit him again.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!”

Another slap made a soft smile pluck the corner of his mouth and Y/N raged, giving into the rushing arousal that swarmed her thoughts and pushed away her common sense. She raised her hand again, but instead of a slap, she clawed at the nape of his neck and drew his lips down to hers, kissing him hard. 

Ben sucked in a breath, shocked by her aggression. He hummed when she licked into his mouth; slipped his free hand down her sides when she bit his bottom lip. His fingertips dug into the meat of her hips and she pulled back, looking up into his freckled face.

The end of the joint smoldered between his fingers, crumbling to ash like a pillar of Pompei. Y/N wrapped her delicate hand around his wrist and brought his fingers up to her mouth. 

Holding his gaze, she puckered her lips and sucked in a deep breath, pulling the drugs into her lungs. She shuddered and coughed, senses overtaken by the strength of the bud.

“Fuck…” 

Ben bent down to take a final drag and the cherry died. He dropped the dregs and pulled her close, slowly exhaling the smoke through her parted lips. 

She inhaled and her eyes rolled. Her balance skewed and she swayed against him. 

“Now…” He cleared his throat and slid his hand against the back of her head, holding her there. “How about you get on your knees and show me what a good girl you are.”

Y/N laughed and shook her head. “I have a better idea.”

He cocked a brow. “Really?” 

“Mhm…” 

Taking a step back, Y/N released the knot in the towel and let it fall to her feet. Immediately, Ben reached for her, but Y/N caught his hand, shoving it away. 

“I told you, things are different now.” 

Reaching up, she dragged her fingertips down his cheek. He leaned into her touch, eyes fluttering slightly. 

“It’s not just take, take, take anymore…”

Her hand moved slowly down his throat, tracing the thick muscle down to his shoulder. 

“Sometimes, you gotta give.”

His forehead creased in confusion, and Y/N explained without words, pressing his shoulder down and urging him to his knees. 

In awe of her suggestion and high as a kite, Ben slid to the floor and looked up with full-blown pupils and wet lips. As he watched, she ran her hands over her breasts, plucking each nipple until the flesh darkened. He swallowed hard. Her right hand dipped down between her thighs, carrying his gaze to her pussy. She spread her legs and rubbed gently, slicking her fingers with arousal. 

He parted his lips, ready to shoot another one-liner her way, but Y/N silenced him quickly. She pushed her wet fingers into his mouth and rubbed her juices on his tongue. 

His eyes closed and he moaned around her fingers. “Fuck…” 

She spread her legs and grabbed a handful of his thick hair. “Time to give, Soldier Boy…”

Y/N forced his face into her cunt, but he needed little prodding. As soon as her flesh hit his face, he started to lick and her body arched back in mounting pleasure. She tugged at his hair as he sucked on her clit; bucked her hips against his mouth when he pressed two hot fingers into her. 

He came up for air, sitting back on his heels and craning his neck looking up at her. His face glistened and his lips were swollen. He pressed his palm down over his cock and groaned. 

“Wanna fuck you,” he breathed, roughly stroking himself through his sweats. 

Y/N smiled devilishly and shook her head. “That’s so sweet,” she mocked, “but no.” Again, she grabbed his hair and yanked until he fell forward. “This is all you get.” 

Ben sank into her pussy, driving her wild as lingering smoke faded around them.  

He watched her through the car windows, staring as she walked down the street with Hughie by her side. They were arguing about something he couldn’t hear. Hughie’s lanky twig arms were waving in the wind as Y/N stood with her arms crossed and a hip popped in annoyance. Ben couldn’t give less of a shit what they were fighting about, he just wanted out of the damned car. He wanted to stretch his legs and wreak some havoc on that bleached blond, cape-wearing dickwad Homelander. 

Instead, he crushed another pill in his strong hand and snorted it back, humming loudly as the jolt hit his brain. “Goddamn, that is good shit.” 

Again, his eyes flew to Y/N and he licked his lips, remembering the sweet taste of her pussy and the noises she made while cumming on his tongue. 

As if she could feel his eyes on her ass, Y/N suddenly turned and met his gaze. She shuddered a bit but didn’t look away, staring into his eyes from across the street. 

Hughie waved a hand in front of her face, drawing her attention back. 

“Hello! We’re not done here,” he snit; baby face screwed up in anger. 

Y/N tilted her head and shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, Hughie. I’m not in charge of this shit. I’m just a babysitter.” 

She looked at the car again and found Ben still admiring her form. He had his right arm on the window ledge and his forehead against the door. She couldn’t see his left hand, but she could imagine where it was as he pressed his tongue against his top teeth and dropped his eyes down her body. 

Y/N sighed out a delicate moan. 

Hughie gagged. “Are you serious?” 

“What?” 

He grabbed her arm, turning her back around. “Are you fucking him?” 

Y/N startled and dropped her arms. “What? Who?” 

Hughie’s face reddened. “Who? Soldier Boy!”

Shaking herself, Y/N cringed. “Ew. No! Why the fuck-” 

“Well, you’re staring at him like he’s a fucking vibrator.”

Y/N laughed. “First off- that’s disgusting. Do not insult my vibrator like that. She’s one of my best friends.” She rolled her eyes. “Secondly, if I was gonna fuck anyone around here, it would not be that sexist junkie.” Hughie held his breath and stood up a little straighter. She laughed again. “Calm yourself,” she advised, turning away. “It wouldn’t be you either…” 

Ben slowly rubbed his cock through his pants, eyes glued to her curves. He laughed when she threw her hands up, obviously annoyed with Hughie and his problems. The twig man cowered slightly and his face blushed hot red. 

Soldier Boy laughed. “What a pussy.”

Three hours later, Y/N was half asleep in the front seat of the busted Lincoln, desperate to stay awake 

Night had fallen as they waited in the woods, trapped in a car by her sharp-tongued, bearded leader Butcher. Y/N wanted to get into the fray and stab something, but she had been bound to Soldier Boy’s side, tasked with keeping him content and docile until needed. 

She hated it. 

He was humming to himself in the backseat, happily learning how to access porn on her smartphone. It had taken some time to get him to understand the mechanics of the swipe, but once he did, he was off like a racehorse, Googling the most depraved acts he could think of. 

“Holy shit-” 

Y/N rubbed her tired eyes and looked at him in the rearview mirror. His face was lit by the screen and his green eyes were wide; his plump lips stretched into an awed smile. 

“What now? You find Hentaied yet?” 

Ben looked up, confused, but immediately went back to his discovery. “No. What? No. There’s… well, there’s two girls… and one cup… and-”

“No! No. No.” Reaching into the backseat, Y/N grabbed the phone from his hands and quickly shut it down. “You’re not watching that crap on my phone.” 

He laughed. “Crap.” 

“Ew.” With a heavy sigh, she tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. “You’re gross.” 

“It was on your phone.” 

“Because you looked it up- I- It doesn’t matter. Just shut up. Please. My head hurts.” 

Ben watched as she rubbed her temples gently. “Ya know… I have something that’ll cure your headache.” 

Y/N glowered at him. “Don’t you dare take your dick out.” 

“Not yet.” He chuckled and produced a prescription bottle, quickly popping the top. “This.” 

She leaned over to look at the three white tablets as they tumbled into his palm. “What is it?” 

He grinned. “My old friend Bennie.” 

“Um… pass.” 

“Oh, come on. You’ll feel better… it’ll… wake you up.” Ben winked and closed his fist, crushing the pills to powder. Unfurling his fingers, he offered the drugs again. 

Y/N declined with a simple shake of her head. 

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” With a loud snort and a flip of his long hair, the pills were gone, launched up into his brain like a rocket ship. “Fuck!” He shook himself and laid back, pupils wide and skin tingling. 

Y/N couldn’t look away. He looked normal for once. The grumpy, disgusting aura was gone, replaced with a relaxed yet wired look that was more appealing by the moment. 

She huffed. 

He tapped a single tablet into his open hand. 

She held his gaze and nodded. 

“Good girl.” 

The drugs flew up her nose and instantly shook her brain. A bolt of lightning struck her head and every part of her came alive. Her pulse rose, her skin prickled, her pussy throbbed. She felt elated and wild. She wanted to rip her clothes off and run through the trees, feel the earth beneath her bare feet, howl at the half-moon. 

“Nice, right?” 

Ben smirked and her attention shifted from the fantasy of a naked nature waltz to a dream of him. 

Y/N bit her lip and reached over the seat to grab the collar of his shirt. The cotton rumpled in her tight fist and Ben fell forward, pulled by her lustful tug. 

She kissed him. 

He hummed and shifted closer. 

She pushed her tongue between his soft lips. 

He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back, exposing her delicious neck. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he growled, pressing his lips to her pulse. “I wanna eat you alive.” 

Y/N moaned and dipped her head to look into his eyes. The move pulled her hair harder and the pain spread like concupiscent fire through her system. “Maybe later,” she teased. 

Her tongue shot out and lapped at his lips. 

He sighed lustfully. “For now?” 

Y/N bit down on his bottom lip and let it fall slowly from her teeth. His eyes rolled and she kissed his deeper. 

“For now…” Her lips slid across his cheek and settled by his ear. “... I want you inside of me.” 

Ben growled and grabbed her waist, easily lifting her over the seat and into his arms. She fell into him and went back to tasting his lips, moaning with every electric kiss, every twitch of his fingertips over her skin. 

He snuck his hand beneath her shirt, pawed at her tits, and teased each nipple in turn.

She pushed down on his lap, shivering when she felt his erection poke through the layers of fabric between them. 

“Please,” she moaned. “Please fuck me.” 

Her hands fell down his big chest and Ben’s breath grew ragged and heavy. He kissed her one last time and then shoved her away. She gasped at his strength as she ended up on her back with her jeans tugged away. He moved with lightning speed, removing her panties and kicking away his clothes. 

There was no hesitation when he was ready, no need to warm her up. Y/N was wet and tight, ready for him like she’d been edging herself for weeks. 

The moment his cock pressed against her cunt, she was gone, clawing at his arms and letting out wild curses of pleasure. 

He fucked her hard, pushing in deeper with every thrust. He watched her eyes roll and her muscles clench. He heard her heart struggle and the blood flow to her pussy. He knew her then inside and out and used every bit of his power to bring an orgasm crashing down upon her. 

“Fuck!” She dug her nails into his shoulders while the pleasure wrecked her body. “My god!” 

A cocky smirk played on his lips and Ben grabbed her hips. He lifted her like a doll as he settled back against the seat. Her legs spread around his trim hips and she instinctually sank on his cock, impaling her still throbbing pussy. 

“Fuck, fuck!” She bit her lip and locked her tiny hands around his thick neck, holding on as she began to ride him. 

The threat of her fingers on his pulse was enticing and Ben bucked his hips hard, fucking up into her as she struggled to stay upright. When she crumbled, he held her up, his big hand closing around the nape of her neck and keeping her spine straight. She was truly a ragdoll in his hands: a wet, hot, sexy toy for him to use. 

Y/N shuddered with another orgasm and Ben let go as she tightened around his cock. With a rumbling growl, he came, shooting up into her with a powerful spray that she could almost feel going deep into her core. 

Butcher had one foot out the door. He would have had both out and halfway down the motel hallway if not for Y/N’s hand fixed around his elbow. 

Her fingers dug into the soft leather of his sleeve and he paused, looking down at her. 

A strange mixture of anger and pathetic innocence filled her eyes and Butcher laughed. 

“You’ll be fine, kid. He ain’t gonna bother you none.” 

Y/N groaned. “Please. Just give me something else to do. I can’t stand it anymore. He’s such an asshole. He spent forty minutes this morning talking about Susan Summers and how good the ThighMaster was at tightening her pus-”

Butcher held up a hand, silencing her. 

“I gotcha, but ya need ta realize I got a lotta balls in the air right now and I need that ball under lock and key.” He pointed behind her to the bathroom. The edges of the closed door were glowing as smoke and steam escaped, leaking an odorous marijuana and Old Spice vapor into the room. “And you, darlin’,” he continued, poking Y/N in the chest, “are the lock.” 

She shook her head. “And where’s the fucking key so I can get out of here?” 

Grinning, Butcher shoved her back a pace. He grabbed the door and stepped into the hall, pulling it behind him. “That’d be me.” 

Her fist hit the door and her knuckles bruised instantly. 

“God- fucking- damn it!”

One door closed and the other opened. 

A naked Soldier Boy emerged from a dense fog of spiked steam like Jesus descending back to earth on a cloud. 

Y/N caught herself staring at his dick and shook herself, turning quickly away. 

“You can look,” Ben said, planting his bowed legs wide apart and setting his fists on his hips. “I don’t mind.” 

She gagged dramatically. “No thanks.” 

“Come on,” he urged proudly. “Take it all in. Bask in the glory!” 

“You really are a tremendous piece of trash, aren’t you?” 

With a shrug, he broke pose and went in search of pants.  

“You didn’t seem to mind it last night,” he mused, bending over a bag of random clothing articles. 

Y/N tried not to stare but his tanned skin was glistening with wetness from the shower and the muscles of his back were tight and twitching as he searched. Her eyes fell down his spine, lingered on his ass a moment, and then sank into the thick muscles of his legs. His thighs looked like tree trunks, his calves like branches she could entangle herself in and dangle forever. 

“Yeah, well… I’m an idiot sometimes.” 

Ben fished a pair of soft white boxers from the bag and turned, eyeing her as he toyed with the elastic hem, finding the front. 

“Sometimes?” 

She cleared her throat and narrowed her gaze, pushing every bit of annoyance into her stare. “Fuck off.” 

Ben smirked and tugged on the shorts. “You know, you’d get a lot more attention if you were nicer. Smile more. Be respectful. Put some damned makeup on.” 

Anger sizzled in her gut. “You didn’t seem to mind last night,” she echoed. 

Pressing his tongue between his lips, Ben nodded. “Touché.” 

Time passed slowly. 

Y/N sat at the head of the bed, leaning on the headboard with a bottle of Jim Beam slowly emptying into her.

She stared at Ben despite herself, always looking away, arguing with herself, and then looking back, getting stuck on something about him. His hair was so perfectly long in all the right places, and somehow gorgeously always in place. His beard was thick but soft like he’d been grooming himself for the last forty years. His eyes cut right through her resolve anytime he looked at her. At times she wondered if he had x-ray vision or could see into her soul. 

Still shirtless and refusing to get dressed, Ben paced the room. His bare feet dug into the thin carpet as he walked back and forth, seething with energy. 

“Sit down already!” Y/N yelled. “You’re making me dizzy! You’re like a fucking pendulum going back and forth.” 

Pausing by the door, he grit his teeth and glared. “Give me something to do, then.” 

Y/N shrugged. “If we had anything to do, do you really think I’d be sitting here? With you?” 

Giving up his worn route, Ben took a seat at the little round table in across from the bed and grabbed a wrapping paper. 

“Why do you hate me so much? What’d I ever do to you? Kill your grandmother?” 

“What? No.” Y/N scoffed. “I hate you because…” 

Her thoughts trailed off when her eyes fell on his broad shoulders. They moved languidly as he rolled a giant spliff, muscles rippling under her gaze as if her world had switched to slow motion. 

“Uh…” 

He brought the joint up to his lips and Y/N gasped slightly when his tongue jutted out to wet the seam. 

“You…” 

Green eyes locked onto hers and Y/N felt her pussy throb. 

“I, um…” 

Ben chuckled to himself and twisted the ends of the paper tighter. He sat back in the chair and clicked the lighter Butcher had left him. 

“You know what your real problem is?” he asked, letting the flame grow high before setting it to the end of his cigarette. 

Her heart was pounding, her skin on fire for wanting him. “What’s that?”

“You only want me when you’re high.” 

It was so absurdly true that she laughed out loud. Y/N shook her head and tipped the whiskey back, taking a deep drink. “You’re incredible, you know that? It’s like everyone has to love you but when they don’t, you make some shit up. Nuh-uh. You’re… shut up. I hate you.”  She took another sip for good measure and huffed in his direction. “You suck.” 

Ben licked his lip and took a drag. The exhaled smoke haloed his gorgeous face and Y/N hated every drop of booze in her system. They were all dragging her mind to nasty places that she’d rather not go. 

“It is true,” he argued, blowing a smoke ring high about his head. “And I think you like it.” 

She stiffened. “I do not.” 

“I think you do.” Ben sat forward and pulled in another hit. The drugs flooded his brain and he smiled happily. A few moments of bliss before trauma struck again. “I think you need it.” 

“Need what?” 

She watched with building lust as Ben stood up and walked to the foot of the bed. With the fag balanced on his thick bottom lip, he crawled onto the mattress and moved towards her. 

“You need the release,” he explained, hand over hand moving closer. “You need to be high so you can forgive yourself for wanting me.” 

Her heart skipped when he reached her feet. He was right and she hated it. He was terrible and she loved it. He was right there and she wanted him. 

“And honestly, toots- if that’s what you need, that’s fine with me.” Sitting back on his heels, Ben offered her the joint. “Go on. Smoke the guilt away.” 

As if moving in a dream, she took the pot from him and pressed the wet end to her lips. He held her gaze as she inhaled, set his hand upon her ankle while she closed her eyes, and slid it higher when the smoke billowed around them. 

“There’s a girl…” 

Whiskey and cannibus swarmed her senses and Y/N ran a finger down the middle of his chest. He was smooth and firm and covered in constellations of pale freckles. She leaned forward as he bent down and her lips caught his left nipple. He hissed when she sucked hard. 

“Damn…” 

Y/N looked up innocently while dragging her hand down lower. It brushed against the base of his cock and he sucked in a quick breath. 

“Another,” he urged, pushing the joint back up to her mouth. Her lips parted and she breathed deeply. “So fucking hot…” 

Eyes fluttering and thoughts swimming, Y/N gave in and reached into his shorts. She fit her fingers into a tight circle and stroked down the length of his cock, waking him up fully and making his chest expand with heavy breaths. 

“Fuck…” 

She grinned when he cursed; drooled as his head fell back with a pleasured moan. “More?” 

Ben dipped his chin and chewed at his lip, nodding. “Oh yeah.” 

Another hit did her in and Y/N shifted onto her knees. She pressed up against him and licked at his lips before shoving the joint between them. Ben breathed deeply and the cloud rose around them as she kissed her way down his body. She opened her mouth and lay it over his erection, breathing out, hot and heavy. He shuddered and his ass clenched. 

“Fucking hell…” 

Feeling somewhat outside of herself, Y/N looked up with hungry eyes and hooked her fingers into his waistband. “Oh, just wait,” she whispered, tugging his shorts down to his knees. “It’s my turn to give…” 

She licked at the tip of his cock and sucked a wet kiss over the groove underside. Falling fully onto her hands and knees, Y/N teased him with her lips, running her mouth up and down his shaft until he was bouncing on her tongue, fully engorged and leaking. 

“We need to keep you stoned off your ass twenty-four-seven,” he mused, halfway between a moan and a whimper. 

Y/N pulled back and gently rubbed his sack. “Why don’t you get more comfy?”

Ben cocked a brow and grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

He turned and fell onto the bed, taking up her old spot against the headboard. She fit perfectly between his knees and went right back to work, shoving her hot mouth down his cock. She gagged and he groaned. She slurped and he yanked at her hair. She swallowed and he pushed her face down as far as she could go. 

“Now this- this is fucking fantastic.” 

Ben took a deep drag and blew the smoke down into Y/N’s face. She inhaled and her eyes rolled back, deeply aroused and stupidly high. 

She used her whole body to pleasure him. She scrapped her nails down his sensitive inner thighs, swirling her tongue over his sack, rubbed his cock between her tits. Her ass wiggled and her pussy dripped, throbbing and so close to cumming from simply sucking him off.

When she slowed, he bucked his hips. When she choked, he pushed her down further. When she shuddered with an unexpected orgasm, he egged her on with gravelly moans and curses that stunted her thoughts.

“Gonna drown you in cum, sweetheart,” he grunted, straining to hold still while she worked her magic. 

Y/N hummed rapturously, daring him to do it, to murder her with his release.  

Ben lay his hand flat on the back of her head and gently held her there. He was ready to explode and he wanted her to stay and swallow every single drop. 

When the door opened, he was mildly surprised, but unwilling to stop. He jerked his hips up into her pliant mouth and Y/N squirmed between his legs. 

“Holy fuck! Come on!” Hughie quickly shielded his eyes, but the damage was done. Y/N was sucking Soldier Boy’s dick like a porn star while the hero smirked like a moron. 

“Hey! It’s Baby Hughie!” Ben tapped Y/N on the head, but she refused to stop. She was enjoying the slick slide of his cock over her tongue too much to give it up. 

Hughie shook his head and turned away. “Y/N! What the fuck!”

Ben laughed before a tight groan worked its way through his chest. “Don’t get pissed at her,” he warned. “She’s a fucking expert cocksucker.” 

Y/N swallowed hard and his thighs shook. 

Hughie gagged visibly. “I’m gonna- this is- gross.” 

Taking one last hit of the dying joint, Ben narrowed his gaze on the lanky man shadowing the doorway. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said honestly. “Did you wanna get down on this?” He held out his hand, offering both the drugs and Y/N’s ass. 

Shocked, Hughie shook his head. “What? No!” His cheeks burned bright pink and Ben laughed. 

“Come on, ya pussy. I’m sure she won’t mind…” 

Y/N voiced her opinion with a harsh scrape of teeth down his cock. 

Ben hissed at the pain and shrugged at Hughie. “Sorry. It appears she does mind.” 

Taking a deep breath, Y/N pushed her face into the soft patch of hair around his pelvis and Ben lost his mind. He gripped her hair tight and pulsed his hips in quick, short thrusts.

Hughie gawked at the scene and then struggled to leave. He spun in place and grabbed the doorknob, unable to turn it and escape with quaking hands and blurry eyes. 

Y/N could feel Ben’s need throbbing on her tongue and she pulled back for a second to scold her friend. 

“Get out already!” she shouted, shooing Hughie off with a wave of her spit-soaked hand. 

Ben called her back, grabbing her cheeks in one big hand and pinching her lips into a tight circle. “Oh, he’s leaving,” he told her, guiding her mouth back to his throbbing cock. “Or he’s gonna see some things he can’t forget.”   

Hughie slammed the door behind him and braced himself against the wall. His head fell back with a thud and he struggled to wipe the memory clear. He didn’t care that Y/N had lied about fucking Soldier Boy, but seeing her blitzed and working his cock was more than Hughie could take. An old “Say No To Drugs” poster from grade school flashed through his thoughts and he cringed. 

When Ben’s orgasmic roar flooded out into the hallway, Hughie booked it, strangely looking forward to spending the night alone in the car. 

[hyuniyz]

JUST YOU ⭒

pairing. lee minho x f!reader

genre. comfort | making out towards the end.

words. 2.3k

notes 📝 minho’s love language is definitely spending quality time together or / acts of services because this man LOVES to give. so here’s minho just comforting reader after she’s had a bad day 🙏 loads !! of kisses because i just started projecting my own needs near the end..

summary — after a tiring day, all you need is your boyfriend and the comfort he provides.

you close the door behind you with a little more force then necessary. the warm lightning and the soft aroma that you associate with your home is enough to relax you, but it does nothing to erase the terrible encounters of today from your mind.

you walk into your living room grumbly. spotting soonie lounging around on your couch, you move to lay beside the furball. the feline–most likely sensing your sour mood– immediately curls up on your chest and you bask in the comfort the cat provides.

in the kitchen, minho is just finishing up cleaning the cat’s food bowls when he hears the thud of the door, the sound alerting him that you are home. but a furrow of confusion settles in between his eyebrows when he doesn’t hear your usual ‘honey, i’m home !’ which he’s teased you for being too cheesy but the absence of the cheesy statement now is way too alarming.

he abandons his task and chooses to walk over to the living room where he finds you laying on the couch with soonie purring loudly on top of you. he smiles at the adorable sight of his cat being so soft towards you.

“hi baby,” minho uses his softest voice as he walks towards your slumped form.

you immediately perk up at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice. the voice you had been longing to hear the entire day. too tired to lift your head up to greet him you mutter a small “hello,” you watch silently as minho sits at the other end of the couch and pulls your legs to rest on his thighs instead.

“bad day today?” he senses your mood and decides to trek around the topic lightly, not wanting to tip you over the edge. you’re about to respond but instead a groan rumbles through your chest when minho begins massaging your legs. he smiles and continues working with his hands.

you want to ask him how he knows but of course he knows. he knows you far better then you think and so when he suggests a warm bath, you almost start crying right there because a bath is exactly what you need. you respond to him with a hum and with that minho rubs your thighs before getting up, you assume to set up the bath for you.

before making his way to the bathroom however minho wanders around the apartment and manages to locate his two other cats which he drops off beside you on the couch. the two cats also curling up on either of your side.

he leans down until he’s at level with soonie who’s comfortable on your chest. “take care of her for a while okay?” he instructs as if soonie is actually gonna converse with him. soonie –who lifts his head slightly– meows at him as if agreeing with him. which seems to satisfy minho because he grins before nuzzling his nose against soonie’s and then he turns to you.

you were watching their little encounter with a fond smile that stretches further when minho leans down again to repeat the action with you, bumping your noses together as his lips descend upon yours. he keeps it short and sweet, letting his lips linger against yours for a few seconds before pulling away.

“rest while i work on the bath, hmm?”

you hum as a reply and peck his lips again, “i love you”

you feel him grin against your lips “love you too”

then he’s gone, and you nuzzle against the cats whose warmth makes up for his absence.

“oh heavenly lord above” you groan out as the warm water engulfs you. minho, who stands by the sink gathering the stuff necessary for your bath snorts at your choice of words.

“i did this you brat, thank me” he pouts but you know it’s all lighthearted when he walks over to drop a kiss on your forehead.

“how could i ever repay this favour babe?” you ask exaggeratedly, looking up at him as he pretends to ponder.

“i mean.. cuddles would be a good start” he raises his shoulders in a shrug, acting nonchalant.

you laugh tugging at the hem of his shirt so he’s forced to bend over until his face is just above yours, with your lips only inches away.

“is that all?”

“hm” he whispers, closing the distance between your lips. “kisses could work too i guess”

his lips come down on yours before he even finishes the sentence and then he’s kissing you slowly and the small dip in your stomach that follows after all his kisses is there.

it’s like he’s working to remove the stress of the day from you which seems to be going well judging by the fact your shoulders now carry less of the tension compared to the rest of your day. he’s quite literally your knight in shining armour.

the thought makes you giggle against his lips which in turn pulls a smile from him and then you’re both smiling like lovesick fools with your lips still brushing over the other’s. he’s the one that pulls back, to run his fingers through your hair.

“lean forward for me baby”

you oblige, watching as he makes quick work of getting rid of his clothes and then he’s joining you in the bath.

once he’s settled down, he manoeuvres you until your back is flush against his chest. with his arms coming around your shoulders, he pulls you closer in to his embrace and you slump against him when he starts peppering kisses on your bare shoulder.

“wanna talk about your day?” he whispers against your skin, feeling like this is a good time to approach the subject carefully. he doesn’t want you to carry the burden of whatever it is, all alone.

the sigh you let out rings out in the quiet bathroom as you lean your head against his shoulder, wondering where to start.

“really, i don’t know where it all went wrong. I was actually having a really good day but then kevin called me into his office and basically just started criticising all of my work this week - which i’ve spent hours doing mind you. but that didn’t matter to him it seemed as he kept shouting at me for what felt like hours. and you know how i hate people shouting at me, it makes me feel so small and i just– ugghm” you grumble out, recounting the events that had occurred at the beginning of your day. you think this was the point where your day took a turn for the worst. and then everything went downhill from there.

through the entirety of your rant, minho listens quietly. he listens and watches as your body slowly loses the tension with every word you utter, showing him just how much you needed to let all that out. when you let out a sigh and slump further into him, he thinks its probably the best time to give his thoughts.

“well Kevins are always raging cunts aren’t they?”

you huff out a laugh, impressed by his ability to always speak his mind.

“i’m serious though” he threads his fingers in your hair and tugs lightly until you can meet his eyes. “i’ve seen him. he’s a middle aged man with a receding hairline and a beer belly, so i don’t think you should take his comments to heart babe”

“haven’t heard better inspiring words than this”

“of course, i’m the william shakespeare of our generation.” he scoffs.

“hmm, just shed a tear. no need to get so political babe” you tease wriggling your eyebrows at him.

he kisses his teeth at your teasing. fingers trailing down your body until they stop at your waist, where he immediately digs his fingers in the curve of your waist causing you to cry out. his fingers don’t let up until your gasping and squirming against him, laughing and pushing his wrists away.

he lets up his tickling in favour of slinging his arms around your front and pulling your back to his chest from where you’ve slipped down in your haste to escape his tickles. you decide to manoeuvre around, turning to face him instead.

“hi” you whisper when you’re finally facing him. situating yourself in his lap now, you wrap your arms around his shoulders to get closer to him.

he pulls a face when you lean down to press a peck on his lips. but he drops the act soon and then he’s chasing your lips again so that he can properly kiss you. threading his fingers through your hair so that he can get better access. he goes in again, claiming your lips with intensity.

you use your grip on his shoulders as leverage to pull yourself higher up his body, until you’re leaning down over him and he has to tilt his head back to allow your lips to be connected. the hand on his shoulder slips and descends down so that your nails can scratch against his chest which pulls a groan from him.

the sound from him seems to ignite your body, it spurs you on. so your hand stays at his chest clawing and grabbing while the other unoccupied hand goes to hold the back of his neck to pull him closer to you so that you can gain some control over the mind numbing kiss. in the midst of it all, it seems like your hips have a mind of their own since they grind down against him subconsciously. it doesn’t seem like he minds either with the appreciative hum he lets out against your lips.

it’s only when you mewl in his mouth that he rips his lips away from you. it’s like he gains his conscious back as his hands reach up to hold your hips in a vice grip to stop them from rolling down again and getting him more worked up.

you come back slowly too, taking in slow breaths to try and calm down your skyrocketing heartbeat. your lips are tingling profusely and you have no doubt that minho’s are the same when he reaches up to feather his fingertips over his lips. the sight of his lips, bruised from your relentless sucking, tempt you to have another taste of him.

you’re both gaining your bearings slowly, recovering from the intense moment that rid you of your breath. it’s silent in the room, safe for your low breathing when minho speaks out. his voice, now a few octaves deeper spreading tingles throughout your body.

“if we don’t get out right this instance, i don’t think i could stop and i don’t really fancy getting hot and heavy in this uncomfortable tub.” his admission hangs in the air between your heavy gazes and lewd breathing, until you both scramble out. ready to finish it into the bedroom.

the soft pattering of water from the bathroom sink tells you that minho is nearly done with his excessive skincare routine, and that he’s going to join you soon enough.

you’re still reeling over the fact that he had so easily navigated through your bad day so that it became somewhat bearable, all by doing the bare minimum. you don’t know when you had gotten so dependent on him but you’re not complaining.

you’re smiling over his antics when the man in question walks out, skin glistening from different products and you’re envious of the way his skin seems to shine under the striking light of your bedroom.

he catches you smiling and mirrors your expression as he climbs onto the bed to hover over you. “what are you smiling ‘bout huh?”

you shake your head lightly, coy smile playing at your lips when you arch off the bed to close the distance between your lips for the umpteenth time tonight.

he meets you halfway, snaking a arm behind your back to pull you flush against his chest so you don’t fall back on the bed.

your lips stay interlocked for a while, never really getting enough but eventually you’re broken apart when a chuckle escapes your lips due to minho’s hair that is so long now that it hangs around the two of you as curtains, tips of his hairs tickling your skin lightly.

he smiles at your laughter and you take your time to look at him. you think he’s the prettiest like this. when the worries of the day are stripped away from him and he’s left all tired and relaxed.

he rolls from on top of you in favour of settling down on his side of the bed, where he immediately pulls you into his side.

“you better now?” he whispers after a few moments of silence, deciding to take a gentler approach to figure out if you’re still upset.

“hm yeah, i’m better now” you smile up at him, grateful for his efforts to improve your mood. you understand that sometimes he doesn’t know what to say or how to act when you’re in one of your moods, but you acknowledge that this is the best he can do, and you’re thankful for him. “i love you baby, thank you” you lean up to leave a final peck on his lips, before settling back down into his side and snuggling impossibly close to him.

he chuckles at your cuddly state, reaching over to switch off the lamp so that you both can finally turn in for the day. he asks one last thing to reassure himself that you’re truly okay and relaxed now– recovered from whatever it is that your boss put you through.

“need anything else darling?” he asks while wrapping his arm around you securely and pulling your leg over his own, getting you even closer than before.

“just you”

⠀© hyuniyz | fav && follow

[tomssexdoll]

hey stinky boob butt

so yk how bill is in paris rn and his hotel room has a bunch of those mirrors in his bathroom 🌚 so i imagined bill watching you get ready for an event/fancy dinner and him being a hornball he comes up behind you and tries to subtly turn you on so you agree to do a quickie and he bends you over the counter so all you see is your reflection and the view of bill pounding you from the back😍😍 “look at my pretty baby gettin’ her pussy stuffed. makin’ such slutty faces..” AAND I CAME. MEOW also i just farted and it smells SO FUCKING HORRIFIC I JUST HOT BOXED MY OWN ROOM WITJ MY TOOTS

i came just from the req

STOP FARTING GOD DAMN

In a rush

PAIRINGS: Bill 2024 x Female reader CONTENT: SMUT SYPNOSIS: Bill gets super horny before an event and begs Y/N to let him quickly fuck her . A/N: MEOW WARNINGS: dom!bill, sub!reader, p in v (doggystyle)

Me and Bill were getting ready to go to a fashion show in Paris, we had been invited by one of the most famous fashion designers in the world.

I was in our hotel bathroom, trying to see which earrings matched my dress perfectly. I felt a presence behind me and looked in the mirror, Bills tall figure towering over me, his hand coming to my stomach and rubbing it softly, kissing my neck with ease.

"Not now baby..we have to leave soon" I sighed, feeling his hand explore my body, moving to sensitive places. Finally, his hand landed on the bottom of my dress, rubbing my thighs teasingly close to my pussy.

"Bill.." I whined, his kisses on my neck getting rougher, pressing his hard cock against my ass. "Cmon..i'll be quick" he whispered, his breath hot against my neck.

I felt a little burning in my heat, clenching my thighs together as he traced his finger up and down my chest, "fine.." I grunted. Then, I felt his hand push at my back, bending me over and slightly exposing my panties to him, the sight making him feral.

"Fuck..need you so bad baby.." he groaned, pushing my dress up and pulling my panties does, his breath hitching at the sight of my wet pussy, glitstening just for him.

I heard his belt unbuckle, pants dropping to the floor and his tip nudging at my entrance, "you ready honey?" he smirked, looking at me through the mirror. I nodded, feeling his hands grip my waist softly, slowly pushing his aching cock in.

"Ah!" I whimpered as he stretched me out, the feeling of his cock in me addicting. He immediately started to pound into me, wasting no time.

"Oh fuck!" I moaned, rolling my eyes back as his tip hit my favourite spot, mouth slightly agape. "Look at my pretty baby getting her pussy stuffed..makin' such slutty faces..fuck.." he groaned, hands coming down to hold my hips roughly, sharp nails digging into the skin.

He continued to slam his cock into me, the pace he was going at was brutal and inhuman, literally lightning speed. I held onto the counter tightly, hoping I didn't slip from his harsh thrusts.

"Fuckkk..your pussy is so addicting baby" he whimpered softly in my ear, my pussy starting to softly clench as I felt a knot forming in my stomach. "Make me cum baby, milk this cock" his hand reached down to my clit, rubbing it roughly.

I felt pleasure waves crash through me with such force, it felt like my soul was being sucked out of me. I screwed my eyes shut, head lolling back as I felt my orgasm approach.

With one final thrust Bill burried his cock deep in me, squirting his cum all over my walls and painting my insides white. "Quick baby..cum for me ok?" Bill commanded softly, panting as he continued to thrust into me, the rubbing on my clit getting faster.

I bit my lip so hard it bled as I came all over his cock, legs twitching and small moans leaving my lips as my high came down. Bill cleaned me up and helped me put my clothes back on. Surprisingly my makeup wasn't affected, I smiled and grabbed Bills hand, "told you the 50 dollar setting spray was worth it" he chuckled "whatever, let's go"

tags: @itsmealaiah @itsangelll @tomkaulitzloverr @ballhair @charliesgoodboy @estxkios @ge-billsgf @bkaulitzlover @cyberleathalz

[castlecrumblings]

But they weren't watching my wounds heal. They were staring at something above my head. "Percy," Annabeth said, pointing. "Um…" By the time I looked up, the sign was already fading, but I could still make out the hologram of green light, spinning and gleaming. A three-tipped spear: a trident. "Your father," Annabeth murmured. "This is really not good." "It is determined," Chiron announced. All around me, campers started kneeling, even the Ares cabin, though they didn't look happy about it. "My father?" I asked, completely bewildered. "Poseidon," said Chiron. "Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God." -The Lightning Thief, by Rick Riordan

Percy Jackson & the Olympians (2023- ) ↳ 1.02 - I Become Supreme Lord of the Bathroom

[wrldabomination]

Rain or Shine

Jake x y/n

A/N: JAKE IN THE RAIN. ( no other words needed )

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ( sir kink, oral m! Receiving, penetration ( unprotected ) *sorry if I missed any*

The weather didn’t exactly agree with yours and Jake’s plans for the day considering you can’t really have a picnic in the pouring rain. You look out the window a little upset that your plans were thrown off by this weather that wasn’t even on the radar, but considering it’s Tennessee you can’t really be that mad. Jake walks down the stairs and walks over too you hugging you from behind “ what’s wrong y/n” he asks in a soft tone “ the rain. I really wanted to have that picnic that’s all” you say still staring out the window. “ well I think I have a better idea love” he states spinning you around to face him his hands on the window sill behind you pushing you against the window your faces close. “ and what might that be Jakey.” You say tracing his chin with your finger right before placing a kiss on his soft lips. “ well it’s not thundering and I haven’t seen a. Sign of lightning.” He says stepping away from you and towards the door “ let’s go dance in the rain y/n” he opens the door with a smile on his face. You slowly walk towards the door hugging him with a smile on your face “ just like our first date!” You say “ just like our first date.” He said back dragging you outside with him “ but there’s no music” you say giggling “ did we have music that night?” He asks “ well… no” you respond “ exactly just dance with me y/n” he pleads “ fineeee!!” You say playfully. You two walk to the middle of your driveway already drenched by the time you reach your destination. Jake puts his hands around your waist and yours around his neck slowly swaying side to side. “ you know y/n I love you so much” he said smiling ear to ear “ I love you more Jakey” you say laying your head on his chest

—————-

You finally convince Jake to go back inside after you start shivering in his arms. “ now wasn’t that fun my love?” He asks wrapping a towel around you “everything is fun when I’m with you Jakey” you say kissing him. You pull away from the kiss to look at him but he pulls you right back into it a little more passionate this time dropping his towel on the ground slowly walking you towards the wall. Not breaking the kiss. once your back hits the wall he slowly traces his hands down your hips to your thighs to behind your knees picking you up pushing you against the wall. Deepening the kiss as he does so. Your hands tangled in his hair he starts to kiss down your jaw line to your neck leaving. A trail of little red marks. Your hands travel down his wet button up undoing the buttons.He comes back up to your ear and whispers “bedroom or shower?” You smirk at the sound of his voice lowering into a growl “ shower” you get out in an almost moan. “ yes ma’am” he said taking you to the bathroom upstairs. As soon as you step into the shower he has your lips back on his leaning you agaisnt the wall as he kisses you his hands start to travel down your body finding your ass gripping forcing you to moan into his mouth. You can fill him smile through the kiss as he pushing into you a little more you can feel him hardening beneath you. You break the kiss. Running your hands down his torso as you slowly drop to your knees. You grip his member in your hand and begin to pump him..his head falling backwards as moans escape his lips making your mouth water for him even more. You put just his tip into your mouth tracing circles around it as he starts to grip your hair slowly pushing himself into your mouth inch by inch taking him completely. You start to bob your head slowly at first making him groan at your pace. Gripping your hair tighter and fucking Into your mouth faster. He has both hands tangled in your hair fucking your throat his thrust getting sloppy his moans become more breathy as he releases his load into your mouth. You sit there for a second with your tongue out so he can see you swallow. “ fuckkkk y/n your so fucking hot “ he said smiling at you his fingers lifting your chin to need his gaze “ now stand up for me and turn around” he instructs with a firm voice “ yes sir” you say getting up you know that one small word will make so much difference within the next few minutes. Your now standing facing the wall as you were told he snakes a hand around up to your throat slightly gripping it pulling you closer to him you can feel his dick hardening again he whispers into your ear in a lustful tone “ bend over for me sweet girl” you do as your told now bending over hands placed on the wall Jake. Steps forward pumping himself before he runs his tip through your folds before lining himself up with your entrance slowly pushing into you. You feel as every inch of his member fills you perfectly forcing you to moan. he starts to slowly thrust into you hitting all the right spots. So quickly. “ f-faster please Jake” you say in a moan “ I’m sorry sweet girl what did you say I didn’t quite catch that “ he says searching for a specific word “f-faster please sir “ you say correcting your mistake “Anything for you my sweet girl ” he said speeding up his motions hitting your spots faster you can feel your. Orgasm begin to build. “ god you feel so fucking good y/n” he says fucking into you faster your orgasm approaching extremely quick “ jake I’m gonna - I’m go-“ “ I know baby cum for me all over my dick baby cum “ he says cutting you off sending you head first into your climax. Your walls clinching around him causing him to twitch inside of you. Knowing he’s close he fucking into you faster. His hips begin to falter as he releases his second load inside of you filling you up. Your knees. Begin to Buckle snd he catches you. “ you okay love?” He says in a giggle “ yea I’m fine my legs are just a little weak give me a minute “ you respond as you sit in the shower floor.

——-

Freshly showered you climb into bed and cuddle up under the covers waiting on Jake. He comes into the room water bottles and pretzels in hand. “ now let’s have that picnic love “ he says climbing into bed.