#I can’t help it if mirrors love my face

[stupditysholy]

I have to get this off my chest because the amount of Curly love on tik tok actually stresses me out and I’ll tell you why:

So to my understanding having experienced the game multiple times, Curly absolutely fails to advocate for/help Anya. She hides the gun to keep it away from Jim because Curly will not allow her to protect herself. He straight up calls her crazy to her face, too: “You never had to get psych evals like the rest of us. I should’ve known” or something along those lines. When Curly confronts Jim before Jim crashes the ship, he doesn’t say ANYTHING in defense of Anya, instead consoling Jim that they would figure it out, and he’d been in rough spots before.

For all intents and purposes, Curly does not see that Jim has done something inexcusable, and rather he has made a series of mistakes. He does not for one single moment consider how Anya’s life has been permanently altered, how her autonomy has been entirely stolen from her.

Until he experiences it himself.

Curly being reduced to a mostly immobile spring sausage is his way of experiencing the pain he allowed to be inflicted upon Anya, full stop. Even more ironic? Anya can’t bare to give him his pain killers, so he is left completely at Jim’s mercy, a fun-house mirror of how Curly could not bare to hold his friend accountable, and therefore left Anya at Jim’s mercy pre-crash.

Curly only becomes Jim’s victim because he allows Anya’s victimization to go on unchecked. He thought he was exempt from Jim’s abuse, and that is his biggest mistake.

Also, I have to say the idea that Curly get’s rescued and lives happily ever after does the narrative no justice. In fact, it completely undermines Jim’s entire character arc. Curly living happily ever after would, in some sense, redeem a little of Jim’s character—redemption he did not remotely earn because he did NOT take responsibility. At all.

Jim putting Curly in the pod at the end is no act of mercy. It’s actually the worst and most selfish thing he could have done. It’s the exact freaking opposite of taking responsibility. When he has his big talk with Polle before the very end, he is spouting complete and utter bullshit. Why?

The crash and Curly are NOT the things he is supposed to be taking responsibility for. The thing he is supposed to be taking responsibility for is ANYA’S TORMENT. That is the thing which started all of this, which lead to the crash, which fried Curly. That is the inciting incident.

That’s the freaking irony!

Anya get’s completely and utterly forgotten in this moment. In my opinion, this is why Polle says:

If all of that is true… why are you still so concerned with him?

Because right before that, Jim is about to say “Our worst moments don’t make us monsters.”

And Polle knows, then, in that moment, that when Jim thinks of his worst moments, he thinks of the accident, what happened to Curly, rather than the immeasurable pain he inflicted on Anya PURPOSEFULLY. Jim completely fucking ignores his worst moment, and that DOES make him a monster.

So when Jim puts Curly in that pod, not only is he righting the WRONG wrong, but he is actively choosing to believe this is what it means to take responsibility. He is making his amends to a man he accidentally hurt rather than the person who suffered the most at his hand.

It’s also pretty evil of Jim to put him in there because he knows: a good captain goes down with his ship. He makes Curly out to be a selfish and pitiful. He may even be setting him up for failure depending on how the authorities reason out what happened.

I just think at the end of the day Jim is the villian of the story, and Curly is a freaking bystander. Obviously post-crash this is inevitable, but that’s almost funny—not gonna do anything to stop him, Curly? Guess what, now you don’t even have a freaking choice.

Anyway please stop glazing the spaghetti man you can love his complexity but he is not a good guy or uwu cutie pie. He sucks. Straight up.

Feel free to start discourse in the comments I’m okay with being wrong about him I guess I just don’t think I am.

[elleluvsjurin]

meddle about

requested

synopsis: continuation of yunjin’s version, you invite chaewon over for a little party that you and your girlfriend has planned for her but yunjin has other plans

pairings: huh yunjin, kim chaewon x fem!reader

cw: smut..ofc, g!p yunjin, yunjin is mean, y/n follows yunjin’s lead, a bit of noncon turned dubcon(?), mainly chaewon x reader fucking tbh

a/n: im trying to expand my horizons

today was a special day for chaewon. you and yunjin liked to throw random parties for the bandmates of le sserafim. with that being said, tonight was chaewon’s night. you being you thought that you would be celebrating chaewon with yunjin but unfortunately yunjin was not on the same page as you.

you two greeted chaewon as she walked into the shared space…you two living a few doors down from her.

“hello, unnie.” yunjin hugs chaewon tightly, almost taking her breath away

“hi, hi!” chaewon greeted you two happily. chaewon giving you a few extra stares, yunjin of course noticed it but said nothing about it. chaewon sits next to you on the couch waiting for the next step.

“so unnie, we wanted to plan a special party..just for you...” yunjin starts

“i love how you care for our members, me, y/n. but i can’t help but wonder..when were you going to tell me that you’ve been wanting to fuck my girlfriend?” yunjin slightly raises her voice

“jen, this really isn’t necessary-” “y/n. stay out of it, now answer the question. unnie.” yunjin spits out

“i-i-i didn’t know you two were dating..i swear.” she admits, her face turning beet red as you try to calm her down.

“jen..she has a point. we never told anyone that we were dating.” you mention as you softly rub chaewon’s back, calming her nerves

“i just think that y/n is really cute and i might have had a small crush on her but now that i know that you two are together I will back away.”

“prove it.” yunjin says confidently

“w-what?” you ask

“i said prove it.” yunjin repeats

“what the fuck does that mean?” chaewon replies

“you think she’s cute so fuck her.” yunjin says. she sits on the couch, getting comfortable.

“Jennifer I am not fucking chaewon.” you mention

“oh but you will...” yunjin starts. “or i will leak the video that we recorded the other week.” she says and you gasp.

“you wouldn’t!” you reply and she ignores you

“unnie i expect that you treat my girlfriend with the utmost respect and kindness. i have a camera recording you two, I’ll be upstairs if you need me.” yunjin looks at you. “y/n, be a good girl for unnie, mmkay?” you nod your head at her words before yunjin walks away, leaving the both of you alone in your own thoughts.

it takes a few minutes before you two start to do anything. yunjin even has a microphone to speak to you and chaewon with her length in her hand, waiting for the moment.

“y/n kiss her. you know what to do!” yunjin shouts in the microphone. you scoot closer to chaewon, whispering, “are you ok with this?” and she answers with a “yes..of course.” before pressing your lips up to her soft lips, locking them.

“good girl.” yunjin mumbles into the microphone as she slowly pumps herself up and down as the two of you make out.

she pulls you into her lap as you continue to kiss her. chaewon’s hands run up and down your side while you two make out. luckily for you, you’re wearing a frilly dress with ruffles on the end. chaewon is wearing a cropped top paired with skinny jeans.

chaewon pulls the top part of your dress down, you’re not wearing a bra so your nipples harden at the cool air. chaewon slowly sucks on one of your nipples as her hand moves towards the lower section of your body. she sticks her hand in your panties, you feel her slender fingers rubbing up and down your folds, eliciting a moan from your pretty lips.

“f-fuck.” you mumble. she continues playing with your pussy, pulling away from your breasts. “so wet for me..” she whispers before removing her hand away from your panties. you stand up, stripping of your clothes and chaewon mirrors your actions.

“jen~” you call out to yunjin in a sing songy tone. your girlfriend gets agitated as she was about to cum until you called her name forcing her to stop her movements.

“what?” she says into the microphone, slightly annoyed

“can you get me the dual ended dildo..please?” you ask, sweetly.

“fine.” she says, going to get the toy, coming downstairs, and handing it to you. you and chaewon gulp at the size of her slightly hard cock. she winks and walks away.

you push chaewon on the couch, catching her off guard a bit. “spread those legs for me.” you say. she opens her legs, her pretty cunt on display for you as you spit on the toy before sliding it inside of her entrance, she lets out a long gasp. the other end of the dildo sticks up in the air as you get in between her legs, your ass faces her with your legs intertwined with her legs, in a scissoring position, you slowly sink onto the dildo and start bouncing up and down. as you bounce the dildo thrusts into her at the same time.

“that’s my good girl..show her how its done y/n.” yunjin mumbles as she pumps herself up and down, watching the two of you.

chaewon moans as you bounce up and down on top of her, your ass coming into contact with the inside of her thigh. “y/n.. fuck!” chaewon moans out loud, feeling the dildo thrust deep inside of her. your ego boosts hearing the older girl moan for you.

you continue your assault on her pussy. “fuck..you like that, hm unnie?” you ask. chaewon nods her head. “i love it.” she moans. you continue to bounce yourself up and down on the dildo shared between the two of you. your hole spasms around the toy.

“mmh- unnie im gonna cum!” you shout out as she slaps your ass. yunjin watches you two intensively, feeling herself about to cum.

“i wanna feel you cum all over my pussy.. cum for me!” chaewon shouts as you squirt all over the toy, leaving you to squirt on her pussy. your orgasms triggers both chaewon and yunjin’s. chaewon cums all over the dildo leaving yunjin to cum on her hands.

you fall on top of chaewon, laying there for a few minutes before yunjin comes downstairs to see the two of you, she snaps a pic of your sweaty bodies.

“y/n, you did such a good job!” yunjin comments, helping you up off of chaewon.

“t-thanks.” you breathe out.

“unnie..you did good as well.” yunjin says before going to pick up the tiny camera sitting in front of the two of you.

chaewon’s face turns a bit red as she’s standing there naked while yunjin compliments her. “thank you.” she mumbles. yunjin walks up to chaewon and she grips her face before she smacks her, leaving you in disbelief.

“Jennifer!-” “shut up, y/n. now is not the fucking time.”

“you give my girlfriend googly eyes again and im personally gonna fuck you up, got that?” chaewon hurriedly nods her head

“your fucking words, unnie!” yunjin exclaims

“yes! im sorry, it won’t happen again.” she says, grabbing her clothes and other items that she brought to the house.

“good. go put your clothes on and get the fuck out of here.” after that statement, chaewon indeed got the fuck out of there.

“jen..what the fuck is wrong with you? you’re so mean to her. and don’t you dare put your hands on her again!” you shout

“whatever you say, beautiful.” she says, sarcastically leaving you to roll yours eyes at the woman. she picks you up bridal style and gives you a nice warm bath. you two end the day with eating chocolate and watching movies. you personally reminiscing about you and chaewon’s activities during the day, wanting- no, craving her but alas, that will only be a fantasy of yours since yunjin is wrapped around your pretty, little finger.

a/n: this has been in my drafts for a few weeks, to whoever requested, i hope you liked it!

[blenselche]

insert for ch2

"Finn, come on."

background items: Marcy Acoustic set poster from Scream Queens, Fern's leaves pressed between glass, Finn's Candy Kingdom diplomat pin, the cash he won in a bet in the comic Marcy & Simon, the dimensional sword, root sword. I wanted to add more but thought it'd get too busy.

closer view and excerpt under the cut

He finds himself before the sink, mussing up his oily hair and disheveled beard to rid himself of wood chips, splashing water over his face and coughing after breathing deep off a stale cigarette. The cherry fizzles back at him against the aluminum as he taps it off into an empty. He tugs at the bottom of his eyelid — the whites of his eyes are yellowing again. Pressing his forehead to the mirror and staring at his reflection he sees Martin's eyes, jaw and brow. He sees his maladjusted view, understands now what he meant, in the end.

He can't look in a mirror without seeing the man staring back at him, and it only gets worse with age.

“You’re fine. Today was just a bad day,” he recites just as he’s been told to, loyal tool of the kingdom that he is, a coping mechanism PB calls self affirmation. He leans back, scoffing, “in a long line of bad days.”

His feet carry him to the stump set before his wood stove, and the air toasts his frozen fingers and melts away the pins and needles in the skin that his port connects to. Anxiety bubbles its way up his esophagus and he drowns it with a long pull off his homebrew, eyes flickering from the bottle to his prosthetic, foot tapping furiously. He sighs and gives into the itch at the back of his brain, taking the wish out and reading it over again, biting more teeth marks into a pencil already shredded down to the lead.

It’s something to look forward to. Something he can put off, hoping ‘it gets better’ but it hasn’t and he’s almost certain it won’t. A morbid form of motivation to get more built, work harder, save more people, hoping against hope he’ll wake up happy before he has to spirit himself away. But none of it matters without fulfillment, sat alone and suffocating under his own melancholy in this empty space, only a facsimile of a loved one on his chest for company. He wants to see his brother, he wants to see his mom. He wants from the bottom of his being to go back and smack himself for being dumb, deaf and blind in the face of his own wants and needs. He hunches more in on himself and clutches it harder, it crinkles back at him, threatening another rip.

Slim, sage colored fingers enter his vision and pluck the precious slip of writing from his hand.

“I’ll give it back if you clean yourself up and go to bed.”

“I have it memorized,” he sighs. “I thought you believed in nihilism, anyway, Miss nothing matters and the wind makes my decisions.” Their eyes meet and he can’t help himself but to smile, though it doesn’t reach the rest of his face.

“I believe in natural predeterminism inscribed on our souls by our great earth mother, not in being a sad sack with whisky dick.”

“Ouch. My ego,” he drones, throwing his palm to his chest in faux hurt. “Like I’m disappointing anyone these days. Cot’s closed, sweetheart.”

“So not why I’m here.” She rolls her eyes and holds her hand out, motioning for the bottle.

“If you crack it open against my floor you owe me a face cord of firewood.” He hands it over by the neck and she takes a fifth straight, wiping her mouth with the back of her glove and gagging. “Christ, bad day?”

“Not yet.” She sighs deeply, clearing her throat of the burn and takes a seat on the floor next to him. “You’re going to be pissed with me. I thought saying anything would just upset you, but you’re still set on doing this,” she waves the wish in her hand, “so. It might help. I don’t know.”

“What are you talking about?” His voice drops decibels, adam’s apple bobbing as he gruffly clears his throat.

“I swear to you I didn’t keep this from you on purpose.” She huffs a sigh and peers up at him guiltily. “You know, Fern crashed in my woods with LSP, but we never spoke. Not until the war.”

“…” his breath gets caught in his lungs, burning.

“I forgot. There was so much going on, back then.” She blinks at him, brows steepled, and covers his hand with her own. “What he said— when I did remember I thought it would just break your heart all over again, so I’ve kept it to myself.”

His hackles raise and defensiveness floods his veins, skin hot and starting to prick with nervous sweat. “Excuse me?” he asks, resistive.

Her eyes hold his though, expression full of pity unchanged. “Finn. Come on.” Her thumb brushes against his knuckles and he shakes her off.

His anger speaks for him, misplaced and protective of his brittle heart. “It’s been a decade and you think I’m like this over some kid I knew for half a minute when we were teenagers?”

“He wasn’t just some kid, I‘ve seen you- you know. Lurking in his tree. It’s a contributing factor in your whole bummer lifestyle because you never processed his death. Or are we still pretending that he has nothing to do with us?” Her voice is gentle but firm, not entertaining his usual evasiveness.

“I'm not doing this,” he snaps, shutting down. He stands and walks to the door, holding it open even though the cold night air will chill the space again. “I am sorry, ‘Tess, for— for whatever you think you know. I can’t rehash it. I’ve buried that shit deep, and it’s gonna stay there.”

“I asked him what he was fighting for. He was dying, falling apart under me, I was just trying to keep him distracted," she barrels ahead anyway. “He looked me in the eye and said ‘same as you.’ Maybe he opened up to me because of what was happening to him, or because he knew we had— you in common, I’m not sure.” She looks at him with such compassionate sympathy that it makes him nauseous. “He adored you, Finn—“ his knees buckle, “—he said he was happy to die for you if it meant he could 'make up for everything that happened after you left him behind’.” She stands and reads the wish, scrutinizing. “If you truly need to do this to be happy… knowing that can’t hurt.”

How he’s able to remain upright he doesn’t know, but a flash of devastation covers his face before he can recover.

“Please, don’t tell me his business,” he rasps, voice wavering. “I can’t,” he begs, croaking out the words through the raw vice of emotion choking him. “I can’t think about it.” He closes his eyes, pleading with his whole body.

He feels a hand brush against his cheek, and her lips press to his softly, whispering “I’ll miss you.”

When he opens his eyes again she’s gone. Bottle and paper placed neatly on his stool. He closes the door and leans against it, hugging himself and breathing hard, face hot with upset. The more he tries to calm himself the closer he comes to hyperventilating, and when the tears start his breathing only worsens. He crams his fist against his mouth and takes a shuddering gasp in, close to wailing over it.

[spokantruth]

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ୨୧ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

content: smutty little thought

evp reading: hello my little ghosts some small thought i had a while back that i rewrote and wanted to share cause sub hyunjin has been my brain rot recently ❤︎

warnings: pegging, sub/dom, sub hyunjin x dom reader, praising cause that boy needs it, implied multiple rounds, overstimulated, soft aftercare

————— ୨୧ —————

subby hyunjin who knows you’ve been so busy so he didn’t want to bother you with his needy wants. Trying to deal with it himself but jesus christ… he just can’t get himself to cum

subby hyunjin who calls you around 10 at night knowing you probably just got out of your after work shower. Meekly asking your to come over, over the phone. “please buba… c-can you come over?.. you can even stay the weekend to make it easier!” he tries to help convince you

subby hyunjin who is ecstatic when you happily agree to stay the weekend and tell him your packing you bag now and will be there in 15 minutes. Quickly running upstairs to his room to put on his lotion and rose perfume. He only wants to smell the sweetest. Slipping on his soft pink sweater. the one that compliments his soft and plushy lips. A pair of small matching pink boxers.

subby hyunjin who looks at himself in his full length mirror while smiling brightly at how cute (and ready) he is for you. The same mirror you fucked him in front of the weekend before last. Those memories flooding in and making his cheeks turn pink like his sweater. The tent in his boxers poking out a bit. Making him pull down his sweater a little.

subby hyunjin who hears the doorbell ring and scurries downstairs immediately. Ripping the door open and yanking you inside. Making you drop your bag and laugh. “Hello my jinnie” god that name. That danm name. The name that makes him wanna fall to his knees and beg everytime he hears it. No no he can’t do that just yet though. Too shy to admit why he wants you there.

subby hyunjin who won’t stop clinging to you as you walk around his place. Gently tugging at your tight black t shirt while you walk around the kitchen to pick up a few things and get a glass of water. You’ve been here for 15 minutes and he already can’t handle the fact your hands aren’t all over him.

subby hyunjin who hugs you from behind tightly, hiding his face in your neck as he speaks. “ i need you buba… please i couldn’t do it on my own.. it hurts so bad” He whispers. His plush lips brushing against your neck lightly. And just like that, the switch flipped in your brain. Smirking and tugging him in front of you. “oh?… my jinnie need my help”

subby hyunjin who’s only seconds later bent over the island in his kitchen, Boxers pooled down at his feet. Glittery pink strap buried deep inside him. You, leaning over him with your sweats tugged down just enough for your strap to poke out. The strap that you wore over cause you knew why he wanted you over just by the tone in his voice. One hand reached over to tangle with his and your other hand holding his pretty waist tightly. “Look at you jinnie~ So well behaved and taking it . so. well” you say while punctuating each word with a strong thrust to his sweet spot.

subby hyunjin who’s drooling and hiccuping by the time he’s now sprawled out on his bed. Satin black sheets making his pretty self pop more. Overstimulated from two rounds already. Your own clothes stripped already and piled on the floor.

subby hyunjin who can’t help but to blabber while unable to think straight. “fuck fuck fuck~ Don’t stop!” “thank you baby thank you thank you” “so full mmmm~” Gasps at the end of each sentence.

subby hyunjin who is completely out of breath by the end of you twos love time. His naked body curled up into your naked body, tangled in his satin sheets. Both bodies littered in red bite marks, purple and pink splotches, and red stripes. His brain still fuzzy but now not with lust but with love. Your sweet voice whispering praises in his ear and one hand massaging his sore thigh and the other gently tracing shapes along his back. “You did so well baby” “oh my sweet jinnie you were such a good boy” “I love you my masterpiece”

subby hyunjin who falls asleep in your arms knowing he’s well taken care of and has the ability to return the favor to you in the morning. A round 4?

[mattyriddlegf]

The Stupid Closet (23)*

Happy Sunday release day everyone!

Just a reminder that chapters marked with * contain NSFW content! Read with discretion.

Enjoy!

-----------

The next morning you wake up early and sit in your window sill reading silently. After a while, Pansy gets up and starts to get ready for the quidditch match.

“Aren’t you going to get ready?” She asks.

“Oh…I don’t think I’m gonna go today.” You say, putting your book down.

“Ok well I can already tell you who else won’t be going…” she throws her hair up before continuing, “you two need to talk.”

“I know…” you say quietly. You were scared to talk to Mattheo. Scared of what it meant for the two of you. You guys hadn’t gotten in a fight yet at all and you blurted out something you shouldn’t have. You had no idea what this was going to lead to.

Pansy leaves the dorm shortly after that, leaving you alone. You change into leggings but keep on the shirt you wore to bed…Mattheo’s shirt.

You had to stare at yourself in the mirror for 10 minutes before finally deciding to leave and go talk to him. You had to get it over with.

You walk over to his dorm, thinking about turning around with every step. When you finally reach his door, you lightly knock. There’s no answer so you open the door slowly.

“Matty?” You ask as you open the door. The room is empty with the lights off. He wasn’t here.

You close the door and leave the slytherin house, walking outside. You knew where he was. You find him on the bench, your bench drawing in his sketchbook.

You walk up beside him and sit down, him not acknowledging you.

“Matty…” you say quietly, your arms crossed because of the cold.

He doesn’t respond at all, continuing to sketch.

“I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it, I was just so mad.” You say softly, you felt like you were skating on thin ice.

Mattheo’s pencil stops moving, “I don’t want to be like them.”

“Hey, look at me.” You cup his face, making him turn to look at you, “You are not your parents. Do you hear me? You are not them.” 

You can tell his eyes are a little glossed over but he’s trying to hold it back.

“Mattheo I love you so, so much. Never in a million years could I think that you’ll become them, not for a second. You’re too good.” You hug him tightly, him reciprocating. His sketchbook and pencil fall to the ground but neither of you care.

After a minute, you back away. The silence hangs in the air for a few minutes before you remember his things had fallen. You bend over to pick his book and pencil off of the floor, “you look good in my shirt baby” 

“Ok now you’re trying to get in my pants” you laugh, setting the book down as he pulls you in and kisses you.

“I can’t help it, my girlfriends hot” he smiles as he continues to kiss you.

“Oh mi amor, you make my heart flutter” you whisper back.

He backs away, standing up and holding his hand out to lift you up.

“What?” You laugh.

“Don’t think you can say that and not get fucked into the next century” Mattheo says, your eyes widening.

“Mattheo!” You laugh, he was so horny but somehow you weren’t surprised.

“Oh don’t go shy on me now.”

You stand up, taking his hand, “ok fine, let’s go lover boy”

He grabs his book and you both practically run back to his dorm. As soon as you shut and lock the door behind you, you’re both ripping off clothes, desperately trying to touch each other sooner.

“I need you” you breath in between kisses, “right now” 

You help him unbuckle his pants and pull them down as he finishes unbuttoning his shirt. 

As he kisses you roughly, he pushes you back onto the bed. You prop yourself up on your elbows as he puts on the condom.

He climbs on top of you, dropping down and kissing your neck, leaving hickies for sure.

Your hands explore his back, scratching at him, desperate for more, “Matty please”

“Ok baby” he lifts himself up off of you and lines himself up with you before slowly inserting himself, “still so tight for me”

He was…big. And you knew that but with the last few weeks being so busy, it had been a while.

You arch your back, your hair definitely getting tangled against the pillow. You reach for the sheets around you, desperate to grab onto anything.

“Ohhh” you close your eyes, feeling too much all at once.

“No, open your eyes” he breathes out as he pumps in and out at a slow but solid pace.

You open them, staring at himself with your mouth slightly agape, “you’re insane” you could barely get out.

He continues his strokes, quickening his pace.

“Fuck” he says, feeling you soaking wet around him.

You start to play with your nipples as you throw your head back, mattheo finding your g-spot.

He rests one of his hands on your stomach, the other holding up one of your legs.

“Matty I’m almost there” you breathe out, making sure to watch him the entire time.

“Cum for me baby” he whispers right before you reach your high.

He continues pumping in and out as you take deep breaths, finding it hard to see anything but stars.

Only a few moments later does he fill the condom with his own orgasm, pulling out of you. You stay lying there, still trying to catch your breath and touch back down to reality.

Mattheo wipes you off before laying on the bed next to you. You turn your head to him, “make up sex is the best actually”

“Oh for sure” he agrees before you lean in and kiss him, this time soft and tender.

You take Mattheo’s hand in yours and hold your arms up, staring at his veins showing.

“What?” He asks.

“Nothing…” you laugh.

“No, I see you staring” Mattheo calls you out.

You drop your hands, still keeping yours intertwined with his, “so what? I just find your arms attractive”

“What don’t you find attractive about me?” He asks. You weren’t sure if he was being serious.

“Well for starters, your horniness. I just can’t keep you off me” you laugh, joking.

“you’re such a brat” Mattheo watches you, smiling as you play with your hands, not looking at him.

“Yeah maybe but I’m your brat” you smile, looking back at him finally.

“Absolutely you are,'' you two stare into each other's eyes for a moment.

“Alright, I’ll be right back” you say trying to get up but Mattheo doesn’t let go of your hand, “just give me 2 minutes” you laugh. You lean in and kiss him before he lets go.

You grab your clothes and walk into the bathroom, coming out dressed a few minutes later. Mattheo has put shorts and a t-shirt on and was laying back down waiting for you.

“See I told you” you say as you climb back onto the bed and lie down, resting your head on his chest.

“Did Pansy tell you what happened last night?” Mattheo asks you, his hand resting on your arm.

“No, what happened?” You ask.

“Theo finally hooked up with someone” 

“Oh?” He hadn’t been with anyone since you. It didn’t even feel awkward to talk about it since you were with Mattheo now but it was a bit of a shock.

“Oh yeah. I saw them myself. When I came down from the astronomy tower last night, I almost walked in on them. Luckily, the girl was not quiet, whoever she was.” Mattheo laughs.

“Are you serious?!” You turn and look up at Mattheo in shock.

“Dead serious. I left so quick” Mattheo responds, nodding his head.

“Wow, good for Theo” you say, resting your head on his chest again, “can I tell you something?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“So after you walked in on him and I last year…” you pause as mattheo takes a deep breath, “ I didn’t finish so I went back to my dorm and…”

“You did not…” he says, smirking. You sit up and look back at him.

“I pictured you as I masterbated.” You finish. You cover your eyes with your hands, “oh it’s so embarrassing”

“If by embarrassing, you mean incredibly hot then yes it is” he sits up as well.

“I never told Theo obviously because I never intended to do it again but then over the summer…I did it again”

“Good to know I was in your thoughts” he smirks, obviously satisfied with himself. “You know I wonder if I was in that girl's thoughts last night, obviously Theo doesn’t get the job done…” he trails off, still teasing.

“Okay, well if you’re just gonna tease…” you pretend to start getting up but Mattheo grabs your arms and pulls you back into him, kissing you.

“No you don’t pretty girl,” he says in between kisses.

Taglist: @helendeath @mayamonroem @hatakemrs @iamdnb @cindyss @swamp-box @schaebickel @princessluvssleep @feistyfox47 @malydiavsss

[drabbles-mc]

Missed It

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

Written for @narcosfandomdiscord 's Book of Abduction: "Somebody has to be paying attention."

Warnings: 18+, language, established relationship, fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: despite the name of the prompt, no one is getting abducted in this fic 😂 idk what it is about Bradley Bradshaw but whenever i want to write a fluffy fic with that man i put him in the kitchen alongside his partner. don't ask me why my brain always goes there because i just Don't Know lmao

When the two of you had gotten everything set out on the counter to make dinner, you had been asking yourself why you didn’t cook together more often. Most day-to-day things you tackled together, things like grocery shopping and laundry. Even so, whenever one of you was cooking, it was always just one of you. You could try to chalk it up to work schedules or one of you not bothering to ask the other for help because it was just part of the routine now, but there was no actual reason for it.

Things had been going fine for the first fifteen minutes while you were prepping everything. You couldn’t help but to rag on him a little bit about his knife skills, remarking that it was pretty impressive that he managed to do all of that without chopping the tip of his fingers off like you’d thought he would.

He’d laughed and shaken his head at you, but it didn’t pry his focus away from what he was doing. If anything, now he was even more determined to stay dialed in and not mess up in front of you—he didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of getting exactly what you were waiting for. His competitive streak followed him home form the base, but he was fortunate in that most times you found it to be a little endearing or at least amusing.

The two of you playing chef was going fine until you’d started to sauté everything together in the pan on the stove. For the first two minutes you were perfectly focused on that while Bradley busied himself getting the bowls and silverware. The two of you were moving around each other without any issues, each in your own lane, until you felt him stop and linger behind you.

Turning your head, you saw him looking over your shoulder, watching as you deftly moved the noodles and vegetables around in the pan. You laughed, raising your eyebrows at him. “Can I help you with something, Bradshaw?”

His eyes drifted from the pan on the stove to your face, and once he was looking at you, a smirk immediately pulled at the end of his mouth. “No, but looks like I could help you with something.”

You rolled your eyes, but still smiled. “And what’s that?”

He nodded towards the pan. “You missed one.”

The laugh you let out was equal parts humor and sarcasm. “I missed one?”

“Yeah,” he replied as plain as ever.

You made a brief gesture towards the pan that was sizzling nicely on the stove. “Where? I would love if you could point it out.”

“If you can’t see it,” he shook his head admonishingly as he placed his hand on your hip, “then I don’t think I can help you.”

You turned the rest of your body to follow your head and Bradley made sure his hand didn’t stray from your hip as you did so. Once you were facing him, your back to the stove, you held out the chopsticks that were in your hand. Pushing them towards him, you lifted your eyebrows in a way to wordlessly communicate that he was more than welcome to take care of it himself.

He held his hands up, palms facing you. “No, no. You said that I could help with the prep and then you’d handle this part. Your words. I wouldn’t wanna take that away from you.”

The false sincerity that he said it with got you to break your silence with another laugh. “Yeah, okay. I’m sure that’s what it is. Chivalry, or whatever your approximation of that is.”

“I’m very chivalrous.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Is that your final answer?”

He mirrored your expression. “What else would it be?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you dragged the word out for all it was worth before pointing at him aggressively with your chopsticks. “Maybe you don’t want to admit that you still haven’t learned how to cook using chopsticks.”

He waved you off as though you’d said something ridiculous, but he didn’t reach for them to prove you wrong. That’s how you knew you had him, because if there was one thing that Bradley Bradshaw was always going to do, it was take advantage of an opportunity to be right in any debate that the two of you got into a home.

“Go ahead,” you held your hand out, palm-up with the chopsticks resting across it like a peace offering. “Prove me wrong.”

Bradley looked at your hand, and then at you. He saw the smirk that was on your face, and even though he was shaking his head at you, the warm smile that was crossing his face was giving you a different message entirely. While Bradley might’ve been the one out of the two of you known for being stubborn, especially outside the four walls of your shared apartment, you knew how to give him a run for his money on that. More often than not you were happy to go with the flow, but when you decided that you were going to pick a point and stand on it, Bradley hardly ever stood a chance. Lucky for him you usually only used those powers in small, silly debates like the one you were currently in.

“I don’t have to prove anything to you,” he finally said, grin splitting a little wider.

You barked out a laugh, head dropping back as you did so. “Really?” Instead of giving you a verbal response, he just kept the smile on his face as he shrugged at you, like he was daring you to try something else. As tempting as it was to take the bait, you shook your head at him. “You know, I tried to be so nice and invite you to cook with me. And this is what I get!”

“Invite me?” he parroted back incredulously, trying not to laugh. “Invite me to cook with you, my own girlfriend? In our own kitchen? In our own apartment?” Taking his hand off of your hip, he pressed it against his own chest with the type of dramatics he saved just for you. “How did I get so lucky?”

You were both breaking down into fits of laughter as you said, “Keep asking your—”

The rest of your sentence was drowned out by the sound of the smoke detector in your apartment going off. Both of you looked around, and while it wasn’t bad at all, the alarm in your apartment had always been on the sensitive side—luckily your neighbors had yet to complain.

“Shit!”

“Fuck!”

You both cursed at the same time, still laughing as you each made yourselves busy trying to get the alarm to shut off again. You turned off the stove, moving the stir-fry pan to the cool burner at the back of the stove. Bradley swiped the dish towel off the counter and went over to stand underneath the smoke detector. Unfolding the towel all the way, he flapped it in an attempt to get the smoke to dissipate enough for the incessant beeping to stop. It only took about thirty seconds for it to stop, but it felt like so much longer when the noise wouldn’t abate.

Once it did, Bradley tossed the towel so that it was draped over one shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

You laughed as you checked to see if any real damage had been done to what the two of you had been planning to eat for dinner. A few noodles on the bottom of the pan caught the worst of it, but it wasn’t unsalvageable.

“This is why I cook alone,” you said as you tentatively turned the stove back on, using your chopsticks to pick out the few pieces that were just a little too crispy to keep and tossing them in the trash with expert precision.

He chuckled as he walked up behind you, his chest pressing against your back as he loomed over your shoulder again. “What’s that supposed to mean? Like this happens to you all the time.”

You shook your head at him. “Well somebody has to be paying attention, and clearly we can’t—”

“If I remember correctly,” he interjected, and you could feel the tickle of his breath against your skin as he spoke, “this all got started because I was paying attention.”

You hummed in amusement. “That’s how you remember it, huh?”

He nodded before pressing a quick kiss to the side of your head. “Yep.” Another kiss. “You’re welcome.”

You could feel the way he was leaning in for another kiss, and before he could you reached behind you with the hand that wasn’t holding your chopsticks and playfully pressed your palm to his forehead, lightly pushing him back away from you.

“No more distracting me—we’ll set off the smoke alarm again.”

He laughed as he took a step back, leaving a small gap between you. “Worth it.”

Top Gun Maverick Taglist: @garbinge @justreblogginfics @proceduralpassion (If you'd like to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

[eternal-love]

Star

gif isn’t mine, it’s: @beautifulbutler

Pairing: Peyton Leverett x female!reader/you

+18 (smut, blowjob, going down in a girl, y’know the drill)

Summary: You decide to help Peyton out on his new project, you’ll be his subject, or as he calls you, his star. Things take a turn when you give him a more exciting thing to film.

You met Peyton once in Central Park, you had tripped over and all the contents of your bag had basically fallen out your bag. He helped you and since he was hot, you started talking to him. Hanging out with him.

He told you all about his short and long films, about how his teacher loved them. And how his hobby was still heavily involved with the career he studied in NYU. He told you that he was looking for another person to film and he said you were interesting.

You didn’t know if to feel flattered or insulted, did he see something interesting in a weird or a cool way? Whatever it was, it meant that Peyton had his eyes set on you, and you liked it. So you agreed.

You were just going to help a friend out, right?

So you made sure to look your best as you got ready, fixing your hair a thousand times in front of the mirror, applying different lipsticks, changing a thousand times. Suddenly you had forgotten what colors he liked.

Maybe helping a friend out didn’t mean shaving, or using your best perfume.

But even the taxi driver complimented your perfume, the smell that impregnated his small taxi. Happy that the old man, who spent the whole ride saying that you remembered him of his daughter.

You finally made it to Peyton’s apartment studio, taking deep breaths, you knocked and he opened the door.

“Hi, sorry but the traffic was horrible.” You apologized for being exactly ten minutes late.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. I have all day.” Peyton let you in, smiling. His studio apartment was neat, not the most clean you’ve seen but you’ve seen worse. He had his camera in his desk, you sat down on in front of the window where he had a small chair.

“Nothing is rehearsed or script. I’ll just ask you some questions and you answer them.”

“I don’t think the camera likes me so much.” You chuckled, putting strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Doesn’t matter. We’ll make it work. Remember, you are my star today.” He pointed at you with a smile.

You smiled, feeling flattered. His star. Just his. He started recording you, making zooms of your face as you fixed yourself once again.

He asked rather normal questions, your age, your name, your hometown. You could ramble about your hometown and family for hours.

“Why did you come to New York?” Peyton asked, zooming into your face.

“Well, I want what everyone wants when they come to NYC. Success. I believed that it would be very different from my hometown. It is, but everyone here is different too. You don’t just stand out in a crowd, and because everyone here is so different, you get lost in between all the faces.”

You said, coming to New York with big aspirations only for them to be shattered as you find out that everyone here came with the same dream.

“A dreamer. I like it.” Peyton chuckled. “And your parents? Did they support you?”

“My dad did, he drove me all the way from my hometown to Madison Square Garden. My mother, I think it was hard for her. She definitely didn’t know what I would be up to. She probably thought I would end up as an exotic dancer…” you laughed, covering your mouth.

“Don’t. It’s pretty and it makes it more raw.” Peyton said, smiling at you. “My teacher likes it when the films focus on the real subject.”

You nod, licking your lips and continuing to speak. “Yes. I know she misses me, that she can’t stop thinking of me. I guess she worries, when you tell your mother that you dance at a club, they think the worse. And I get it. But I like it. I like dancing in the club, I’m not a stripper or a hooker. I just like being on stage. It’s not Broadway but I belong there.”

Peyton was basically enamored by you, more than being his subject, he had made it obvious that you were his star. The two of you had a break to eat, ordering Chinese food as you sat on a small table he had.

“The camera loves you. And I’m sure my teacher will too.” Peyton spoke, his mouth full.

“I never thought I would get this sincere, it’s strangely freeing.” You say, you tried to reach for a napkin but end up knocking the bottle of soda down. Wetting everything. “Shit! Sorry, let me—”

“There’s a rag on my desk.” Peyton tried to remain calm. He hated messes but, it was you. He didn’t care.

You nodded, going to his desk and scanning for a towel or something. Going through the first drawers, your eyes widened at the sight of lotion and Playboy magazines.

“Damn, you’ve been spending your money right.” You said, smirking.

“That’s private. Thank you.” Peyton practically rushed by your side, wanting to take the magazines from you.

“I don’t even want to see why they’re sticked together.” You laugh again. His face was flushed.

“I like having options. And they’re only fourteen dollars anyways.”

You turned to face him. You know, since he mentioned how the film would be filmed, you couldn’t help but think of the Audition format in porn videos.

You know, you get to the audition couch, you sit down. They ask you to slowly strip down until you’re butt naked. They compliment you, then they proceed to fuck you senseless while recording you.

You wouldn’t have done it with anyone else. But it was Peyton. You yearned for him to do that.

“You’ve ever done anything else apart from interviews?” You asked him, as he sat behind the camera.

“Yes? I don’t do much. It’s my style.”

“You’ve never had any girl flirt with you? I don’t know.”

“I haven’t brought many girls here. Only the other girls that live here.” Peyton shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh, so you have brought girls back.” You teased him with a smirk. He blushed, his cheeks and ears were pink.

“Yes, I have. Is that a crime? A guy has needs.” He confessed while chuckling, a bit ashamed. But they were friends, right? “Look, I’m just doing this to practice. I guess. For fun too. That’s why I’m letting you swear.”

“So, you’re telling me that you’ve never thought of ever filming yourself having sex?” You asked, staring right at him.

“I’ve thought of it. But— I’m scared of one day sending that video to my professor. Or showing Sharpay the wrong video.”

“It could be fun. Just saying.”

It was just harmless fun, was it not?

“Are you sure?” He asked you. Just imagining you on all fours in his bed made his jeans feel tighter.

“Damn sure.” Peyton didn’t waste a minute in closing his curtains and placing the camera on his desk, recording his bed.

It didn’t take long before you two were making out on the bed. He appeared to be extra hungry for this kind of feeling. The lust, the edge, everything. Perhaps NYU had been everything in his mind lately that he forgot he could have fun too.

And you? Too many lonely nights in your miserable no-bedroom apartment. Too many miserable nights watching whatever FOX was playing.

So when you got the chance to touch Peyton’s hard cock, you didn’t waste it. He grunted as you touched it and squeezed it lightly. His tongue fighting yours as he grabs your face to keep you close. Unbuttoning his pangs, you get yourself on top of the bed completely.

But he was significantly stronger, making it easier for him to pin you down on the bed. His lips making their way to your neck. There’s a chill going down your spine. When was the actual last time you time you had sex? Because you don’t even remember it.

“You smell so good.” He groaned on your neck, leaving love bites wherever he pleased. He was quick go pull down your skirt, leaving you in just your panties. He moved on to take off your shirt, his mouth going directly to your breasts, sucking on them.

“You taste so good.” He muttered against your skin. He took off your bra quickly, his hand agile enough to do it in a snap. He kissed softly, your neck, your chest, your stomach, until he reached your underwear.

One of his hands found their way to your clothed and wet slit, his fingers softly gracing your throbbing pussy. He began rubbing you softly through the panties, gently and not really following a pattern, but making you feel like you were about to touch heaven.

“Do you like that?” He purred softly, his head turning to look at the camera for a few seconds. Making sure it was recording.

“Y-yes…” you whispered softly, making his press his fingers even more, you whined in response.

“Talk louder or the camera won’t pick it up, baby.” He said, his tone a bit forceful.

You didn’t answer. That only made him basically pull your panties down, pulling your thighs apart, the camera getting a one-person pov of your throbbing pussy. His finger immediately went to your sensitive bud, circling with slow touches.

You moaned even louder, your back arching as your hair became a mess underneath you. You began panting, and he was just rubbing you.

“I’ll make you feel good for the camera. It will love seeing you moan for me.” Peyton muttered as he kept rubbing your core before suddenly stopping. You whined, but he didn’t give you much enough time to think before he moved you around the bed, making sure you laid correctly as she positioned his head between your legs, kissing your pelvis, your thighs until his mouth found your core.

His tongue flicking in and out as he devoured you relentlessly, tasting you whole. He knew was he was doing, attacking your sensitive pussy, he wanted to capture how you had been the one with the idea yet you had let him posses you. How you squirmed under him and only him. How he had this sort of power over you. His tongue moving in ways you didn’t know it could, as you felt yourself coming undone over him. You grabbed his blond locks, so that he wouldn’t tease you again and stop without warning. Bucking your hips against his face.

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna!—“ and you finished, he devoured your orgasm as if he were a thirsty man. Tasting your sweet cum on his lips and tongue. You were left panting, but not for long as he suddenly crawled on top of you, capturing your lips for yet another kiss.

He took off his pants and threw them anywhere, taking off his tshirt, and his boxers. He was well endowed, very well-endowed. Grabbing his cock with his hand, he didn’t waste a single second before entering you. Making him groan loudly, and you whimpered, your eyes rolling at the back of your head. He started off slow, very slow, so you’d get used to his size. You felt his cock stretching every single part of your right pussy, if he wasn’t made for you and you for him then you don’t know who else could match up.

“You’re so good for me. So eager.” He said, before grabbing your chin and making you look at the camera in the desk. “The camera loves you, can’t you see?”

His pace started to escalate. His thrusts were a bit more determined and strong. Your hips rolling too. One of his hands went to your breasts, tracing the outline of them, pinching your nipples.

“So perfect for me. So perfect for the camera.” He said, his mouth going to kiss your breast. The sound of skin slapping against one another filled the studio apartment. “I’ll ruin you for other guys. They won’t have a thing on me, I promise you that.” He basically groaned out, oh, he wanted you all for himself.

His pace and thrusts became more rapid, deep and harsh, making you squirm around him as you moaned. Were you trying to control yourself? No, you wanted all the girls that ever flirted with him that you were marking territory. As weird as that may sound, you wanted Peyton all for yourself. Because, how could you ever let his guy go?

His body slamming into yours, feeling your walls tightening around his cock. You two were lost on each other, the way his face was buried on your neck, just wanting to never forget how you smelled, how you taste, how you sound.

A minutes later, you both finished at the same time. He buried himself as deep as he could, filling her up.

“Austin…”

“Y/n…”

They both repeated out of breath, almost in the way you would say amen after a prayer. He laid on top of you for a few seconds, his hand rubbing your cheek. He let you rest for a few minutes.

“I’ll reward you, and I’ll give you the best closing scene.” You told him. As you sat up from the bed, your legs trembling a little, grabbing his camera from the desk and giving it to him.

He stood up from the bed too, confused as he held the camera. He was confused until he saw you kneel you in front of him. Just the sight of you going on your knees made him get hard again. The camera was huge but that did not stop him from finding a good angle.

“You’re a star.” He said, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

“You said I was your star today.” You said, as you leaned to place small kisses on his pelvis, he resisted the urge of already making her swallow his cock whole.

“You like what you see, baby?” He asked, his cock on full display for you and the camera to see. He gripped her hair, tangling in his hands. “Be a good baby. Show the camera how good you are to me.” He purred.

You licked his dripping tip, before slowly wrapping your lips on his cock, moaned and groaned. Oh, you were good.

“F-fuck.” He moaned, but he kept the camera steady. He wouldn’t have to buy Playboy magazines anymore. “You were made for the camera. Look at you.”

You never bit him or hurt him, you were just perfect, you just had the most perfect mouth. Made just for him, just for his size, just for his cock.

“I’m not going to last very long…” He warned you, bucking his hips too, making you gag, your eyes watery as you were relentlessly sucking him down. His body was tense, in need to release himself. You looked up at him with your widened eyes. Oh, he got off on that too, it nearly made him cum on your throat right then in there.

“I can’t- I won’t last…” He forced out his voice, strained. You couldn’t help but pull away from him for a moment. He gasped, trying to keep himself on control. You stared up at the camera.

“Swallow or face?” You asked him. Just the image of him coming all over your face or making you swallow made him even more weaker.

“Face.” He said quickly. He would rather watch the video in repeat on his you’re covered in his cum than having to imagine you swallowing.

You nod. You spat in your own hand. Now using your hand to please him. Waiting for him to have his climax. It didn’t take long before his face contracted. His cum all over her face.

“Oh… God!” He groaned.

You licked your lips. You never allowed guys to finish in your face. Not even. You didn’t even blow them. But Peyton, damn, he deserved it. He kept recording you, your beautiful face all drenched in his juices. He stopped recording and placed the camera on his bed.

He pulled you up to you feet and kissed you, tasting himself as his tongue made his way into your own mouth. He pulled away. His thumb cleaned your cheek, recollecting some of his cum in it, he brought it to your lip, making you lick it clean.

“I think I’ll need you to star in more of my films.”

Author’s note: this was the most embarrassing things I’ve ever written. I don’t ever write this ‘overly-detailed’ smut. But I tried. This was oh-so-deeply inspired by Austin’s character in NCSI: New York too. Where he plays a porn star.

I hope you guys like it! Love you all! 🫶💕

[badomensgoodomens]

RIFFS AND REGRETS - noah sebastian - part two

part one here

______________________________________

hi, i have ultimately decided that after a week i absolutely hate this storyline and believe i can do better lol. i had intended to progress further after this chapter, but it is suitable to stop here.

_______________________________________

Hadn’t planned on waking up in a shitty emergency tent during the festival of a lifetime, much less the angry danielle who was standing over me lecturing me. 

“Are you fucking stupid?? You were so dehydrated that the adrenaline made you faint!! We talked about this- that is the number one rule of touring-” “danielle-” “you had me worried sick!! That is so not cool-” “danielle!!” i shout, overwhelmed. “Fuck- did i hit my head on the way down?” i ask, rubbing my face.

 “Uhhuh, leo said you went down like a ton of bricks, hit your ribs on the fuckin toilet bowl.” i groan, leaning my head back. “He was watching you, yaknow.” she says. I pause, looking up at her in utter confusion. “Who?” “noah. From the artist tent.” i close my eyes with a sigh at that information. “Thanks for sharing.” i mumble, trying to ignore the stinging coming from my ribs. 

“You can't keep ignoring him, you know.” she says, shifting her weight from one foot to another, hand resting on her pregnant belly. “He broke my fuckin heart dani.” i reply, too exhausted to put up a proper fight. “Oh please. You didn’t even date.” she says, vic comes up behind her. “Who?” he says, wrapping his arms around danielles stomach. “He who shall not be named.” dani retorts, leaning her head on his shoulder. “She STILL stalks my insta. I am NOT talking to him. Hes probably cheating with poppy anyways. Shes pretty.” i say, sitting up a bit. “Arabella, you're one stupid bitch.” 

____________________

The next morning i have a much needed shower, i stand infront of the foggy bathroom mirror in nothing but a plain black set, admiring the nasty ass bruise that littered my left rib. Yikes. I shimmy into a stage outfit, now ruined by the bruise i adorned. 

I managed to limp backstage with the help of vic, who set me down on a random, rundown couch with a bottle of water. I lean back with closed eyes, until the weight shifts that is. I crack an eye open, nicholas sits next to me. “So i’m just ticking you all off one by one huh?” i murmur, closing my eyes. “You could say that i guess. Hey i heard through the grapevine about what happened yesterday. You okay?” i take a sip of water, allowing the cold liquid to soothe my throat before speaking again. “This water is good.” “you didn’t answer my question.” he uncrosses his arms, leaning back a little. “I don’t want to lie to you” i shoot back. He grins. “Ive missed you, bella.” he side hugs me, narrowly missing my bruise. I just hum in response. “Hows the rockstar life?” i ask, he tilts his head. “Its okay i guess. I really do miss having you around bella-” he starts again. “Hey, we’re on in five.” noah calls out, briefly walking past the room, he avoids eye contact. 

Its almost like im a thorn in his side. 

I probably am, honestly. 

______________________________

I can’t even lie, bad omens stage presence is phenomenal. Its exhilarating and exhausting all at the same time. They give every concert their all, its admirable. However, unfortunately we were allocated the time slot AFTER them. I hobble towards side stage, taking deep breaths. Leo gives me one of his bullshit pep talks. “I’m not even anxious, just unsure how im supposed to do this.” i laugh, pulling myself up the stairs. 

“Hey australia how we feeling!!!??” I call out, genuinely trying  to muster up ANY ounce of energy. “So yesterday i took quite the fall, and now im covered in bruises, so i need YOU guys to give it your all!!” 

We launch right into our set, the crowd menacing once again. During each set i allocated 5 minutes at the end to play whatever song i please. 

“So i intended to perform doomed today, because i know yall love oli sykes. But considering im uhhh a bit.. Limited. We are gonna sing a bit of sleep token.” 

Gene begins to play the opening chords to “the love you want” 

Everyone and their mother knew how much i loved sleeptoken, how much noah did. However i was dumbfounded when i spotted him standing side stage, his gaze boring into the bruises on my left side. Fuck. this just got an awful lot more awkward. I finish off on stage, managing to slip past him in a timely manner despite being injured. I collapse on to a leather couch, exhausted. 

I lay there for a while, watching the different bands filter past. Eventually, i hobble my ass out of there, humming mindlessly. 

“Give by sleeptoken huh?” 

I actually nearly shit myself, my heart falling to my ass. 

“Can i help you?” i respond, turning around to face noah. I can’t pinpoint what flashes across his face. “Its been a while arabella.” he shifts awkwardly. I nod, we stand awkwardly, the wind picks up. “We should really talk.” he breaks the silence, taking a step forward. 

I step backwards, muttering “ill think about it.” before escaping to my bus. I shut and lock the bus door, sliding down it. Shit. Shit. I just fucking ran away from him. 

“You good?” leo asks, handing me a beer. “Just ran into noah.” i breathe out, taking a sip. He joins me on the floor. “How’d that go? You wanna talk about it?” i sigh. Gene and lucy join us. “What even happened between you two” lucy questions, cradling a vodka cruiser. 

“He started dating this girl and got really distant. She told him to drop me, eventually i got so sick of it i tried to walk out and we got into an argument. He said… some stuff, so i got the hell out of there.” i summarise, avoiding eye contact. Leo elbows me, “you wanna say the rest?” 

I cringe, the whole situation not having been my best moment. 

“Okaywellyeahihadacrushonhim butineveractedonitsoidontknowwhyshewassomad-”             

Leo laughs. 

“Im fuckin doomed for eternity, he wants to talk” 

____________________________

“I think you should.” danielle says, crowded around a bar table in a bustling underground joint. I shake my head. “Do i even bother though? How do i know hes not going to just reprimand me for what happened?” i groan, my head in my hands. Vic hands me a much needed drink. I sigh, unsure of what to really do with myself. 

A couple drinks in, vic whisks dani away to the dancefloor, leaving me alone. I toy with the straw of my drink, running my fingers over the rim. Somebody sits opposite me. I look up, meeting the eyes of folio. “You okay?” he asks, signature grin slapped across his face. “I’m good, you?” i answer, trying to make smalltalk. He replies with a nod, downing the rest of his drink. “Shouldn’t you be with the boys?” my voice is quiet, small. “Nicholas and noah are god knows where. Jollys chatting up some girl. Didn’t wanna kill his vibe. Plus you looked sad so….” 

Right. He was only here because he pitied me. Just like the rest of them. “”Nick, it was great talking to you but i think im gonna head back to the buses.” I say, packing my things up. “Oh- okay. Get there safely.” he smiles, pulling me into a hug. I step out, exhausted. I slip towards the side alley, reaching for a cigarette in my bra. I lean my head back on the cold brick wall, the night air was cold compared to the short dress i was wearing. I was honestly a mess… this was all so…. Confronting. 

I wait patiently for my uber, wanting to get the hell out of here. “You got a lighter?” i gulp, turning around. Im face to face with his chest. Fuck i forgot hes a fucking giant. I look up at him, nodding. I watch him light a joint, leaning on the wall next to me. “You wanna talk.. Or..?” 

I take a deep breath. Contemplating every single life choice.

“Are you and her still together?” i ask, rubbing my hands on my thighs anxiously. He shakes his head, taking a drag. “I broke up with natasha four years ago.” i hum, so they stayed together a whole year after i left. I look up at the night sky, unsure of what to say next. 

“Im sorry for what i said to you.” 

Im almost immediately agitated. “You hurt me noah.” he rubs his face, handing me the joint. “You don’t think i don’t know that?! I watched you walk out that door knowing there was nothing i could do-” “there was SO much you could fucking do.” 

Its silent for a moment. 

“She threatened me that day.”

“What?” 

“Natasha. She slashed my tires.” 

Hes honestly.. Taken aback. 

“Sorry?” 

“She told me you’d never love me. That i was pitiful for thinking i had a chance.” i swallow, avoiding eye contact. 

“Bella-”

I take a drag. “I’m sorry noah.” 

“What for..?” he says, almost holding his breath. 

“I told you that i hoped you’d feel sick to your stomach when you hear my name.” i laugh bitterly. 

He nods. 

“Uhh… not exactly far from the truth.” 

We sit in comfortable silence, just smoking. 

“I broke up with her because she cheated on me. Shes a tattoo artist now, atleast thats what ive heard from nosey interviewers.” he says, effectively breaking the silence. 

I don’t say anything, staring at the ground. It starts to rain. 

“We weren’t supposed to end like this.” he speaks again.

“Atleast not in my dreams.” i laugh. 

“Chase two girls, lose the one.” noah says, looking down the alleyway. 

I look at him quizzically. 

“Wait. you liked me?” 

“Like.”

fuck this. I need to go, i need to get away from him. Fuck. fuck im going to fuck something up. I shouldn’t of done this. 

My heels click as i begin to run away again, wiping frantic tears. He reaches for my wrist, his fingers warm compared to the coldness of the night. pulling me back to him like a safety net. Almost immediately i wrap my arms around his waist, sobbing. 

“I don’t hate you” i wail, he sighs, stroking my hair. 

I shouldn’t be doing this. 

“I know bella.” he murmurs, tightening his grip on my waist. 

“I should.” i sniffle, looking up at his doe brown eyes. 

“You should. And it makes me the luckiest bastard in the world that you can’t manage to.” 

[hobisexually]

long winded rant in the tags coming that’s partly about weight but in a very unfiltered sad way so if that triggers you do Not read on

[toji-bunny-girl]

bartender toji fucking the living daylights out of us after a nasty breakup ? also have a nice day

ON THE H★USE !!

#𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐆 ⟢ bartender!Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader #𝑺𝒀𝑵𝑶𝑷𝑺𝑰𝑺 ⟢ riding the hot bartender after a break up is the least expected thing you’ll ever think of #𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⟢ alcohol, pet names, foreplay, fingering, teasing, grinding, pre-cum, no protection, creampie, car sex, nipple play, squirting, size difference, big dick toji papa, alpha toji with xxxxxxxxl dick, multiple orgasm, one-sided drunk sex (?), power play, I’m so lazy to do tags, who even reads content warnings tbh #𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻 ⟢ 4k #𝑨/𝑵 ⟢ don’t let this flop guys I spent way too much time on this when I should be studying for my exam 😭

“Plus, he literally had to beg me to act like I was cummin’ when he stuck his sorry excuse of a dick in me!” your eyelids hung heavily over your eyes as you exclaimed, brows shooting down in a frown. “Get a load of that guy, am I right?”

“He doesn’t pay for your stuff, and he can’t fuck good?!” Toji teasingly mirrored your tone as he manoeuvre behind the bar, uniform taut from the way he natchly flexed his arms; the bottles clinking as he worked deftly to craft out the beverage you ordered. “What a man.”

It has been 2 hours since you’ve been rambling on about your ex-boyfriend, and the ravenette felt like he’d known this stranger for years—all of his secrets and traits aired into his ears. Albeit, it was getting a bit boring, with the same repeated stories tumbling out of your voluble mouth. But still, he enjoyed chuckling at your adorable insobriety, fuelled by drunken mania. 

“Here you go, princess,” a small tug lifted the ends of his scarred lips when your eyes patently glimmered at the newly served alcohol. “It’s the last I can give you, we’re closing…” Toji’s eyes momentarily flickered to his watch, “in 7 minutes.”

“Oh, okay!” you deliriously yawped, downing the beverage into your liqueur-brimmed system before handing him your card, which you aimlessly threw at him, not even lucid of your motions. “Just swipe it.”

Toji simply brushed it off, taking it towards the other side of the counter. He's used to unintentional antics like yours, as long as the tab was paid off he has no problem with them. 

15,900 yen. 

The digits flashed past his eyes like stars, igniting a luminous glint in his dark emerald orbs. Hell, was it a sum to casually splurge on at some mid-high bar? He’s got a pretty girl with probably an equally pretty amount of personality in her wallet, sprawled on the bar top wailing about her broken heart. 

Oh, how he would love to play saviour. 

“Here, princess. Time to go home,” he tapped your card onto the counter after the successful transaction. His gruff voice was low as you drifted further from your haywired consciousness and towards a delicious drowse. You didn’t move when he neared your face, attempting to marshal up your scattered coherence by calling into your ear. 

Toji sighed as he leaned back onto his feet, and crossed his bulky arms, pondering the ways to get you out of the otherwise empty bar. 

It was 12:58 am and the other inebriated customers had gone out by themselves or with their friends dragging them along. Except for you, softly snoring on the sticky counter. 

His coworker shrugged at him when the ravennette glanced at the shorter male for help. “Just get her out of here. I’ll clean up the rest, and you owe me this one,” always so kind—how Toji wished he could smooch that man right then. 

“Thanks, man,” Toji’s eyes curved in moon crescents, before settling his sight onto your dozed frame. His finger pressed against your temple, and your head lolled to the side in suit of a light push; a trail of drool slipping past your plump lips. You were completely and utterly out of it, huh?

Grasping onto your arm, the male lightly shook you awake, the warmth from his calloused palm stimulating your nerves vivified. “Hey, Mr. Bartender…” you had an uneven smile on your crooked lips, sleepiness bubbling into the air with every laggard blink as you breathily chuckled. “Are you gonna bring me home?”

“I don’t know about that, princess,” his tone was syrupy sweet and it licked the ends of your lips upwards into a velvety grin. “But we gotta go now. Come on,” Toji’s hands came to yours, gently pulling you off of the bar stool. You followed after his guide, slipping your card into your pocket before frisking behind him like a lamb to the door. 

The burly male turned to his wrist after the door swung close in the wake of your exit, checking his watch; it read 1:04 am. The train station is closed and it’s going to kill his conscience if he leaves you by the streets like he always does with intoxicated male customers. He has no idea where you stay anyway—best to call a friend of yours to take you home. 

“(Y/N)?”

A grating, vexatious voice called. The two of you swivelled your gaze to the source to find your cheating, insipid creature of an ex with an arm thrown over some chick’s shoulders, chortling at the unstable mess you were. Your eyes were puffy and tumid from the hours of crying slash ranting session, and you were anything but lucid from the way you looked. 

How fucking lucky.

“What you got going on here? Getting kicked out of a bar?” your ex taunted, nearing his face to yours as you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Y-You…as—”

“Have the lady some of her space, buddy,” Toji’s authoritative voice prevailed over yours as he pushed the male away, rendering him to helplessly stumble backward into a fall. The woman in his arm hid her giggle with a gasp before helping his fuming ass up, his face beet red from his ignominious tumble. 

“Who are you?” he barked, eyelids flying open to show the hidden whites and teeth bared in belligerence. 

“A man who can make her cum, without begging her to fake it,” the woman burst into a half-concealed snicker when the ravennette broke the air with his unanticipated words. Your face grew to be saturated with ardent red, from both the intoxicant that coursed through your veins and the sentence you thought you had heard.

“I call it bullshit,” your ex spat with his upper lip pulled up in disrelish. There’s a flash of humiliation in his glare—he knew Toji seemed better than him and it killed him to know you’ve got suitors who are way out of his league. 

“It’s true,” you tapped Toji’s metallically stiff chest with a twisted, satisfied smirk on your rat-arsed face. “He toootally didn’t just stick his dick in me and call it a day, y’know?”

“Fucking whore.”

“What d’ya say?!” you screeched, ready to pounce on the asshole. “I sent you to the ER once, and I’ll do it again!”

“Alright, that’s enough, princess,” Toji tenaciously held onto your arm, and you’re stuck by him even without him using much strength. “We don’t want you dirtying your hands, do we?” 

A nasty shove met the male’s chest, knocking the air out of his lungs when he hit the ground. It was merely a fraction of Toji’s force, and it already had the male choking to breathe on the ground. 

“Speak to her like that again, and it’s not going to be just a push,” you could hear the rise of a dour, serrated threat in his tone, and it begot the asshole to cower back in trepidation. 

Pussy, Toji grimace. Albeit he was no saint himself but he absolutely despises the ilk of guys your ex filtered into—boisterous and a bully to women, yet nothing but a trifling mutt in front of men.

A tug of his arm, and your limbs wrapped around his wretched him out of his state of visceral contempt. “Take me home!” you ineptly exclaimed, a gruntled grin on your adorable, roguish face. 

Briefly riveting his baleful gaze onto the splayed male on the bitumen, Toji steered you uphill towards the parking lot as you clumsily tottered aside him. 

The encounter with the small-dick fucker sure rendered him more understanding of your evening of outburst. Plus, for you to be cheated on that piece of work was truly the icing on the cake. “Poor you, huh?”

“Forget ‘bout him! You were so cool I almost cummed right there and then,” you teasingly giggled as you peered at him through your heavy eyelids. 

Fuck—it’s no good for you to be saying that with that look on your face. 

His eyes rest ahead the road as you soon come to near the bright red C8 Corvette the woman he’s estranged with had previously gifted him, the car standing out amongst the parked vehicles like a sore thumb. 

Your eyes scintillated in awe when the car luridly flashed and beeped in the night, “That’s yours?!” you cried aloud, frisking all the way to the car, before stumbling over thin air and nearly jolting forward into a fall. Luckily, Toji was quick enough to catch you by your arm, saving your knee a painful event of bloody excoriation. “Oopsie daisie.”

Cute, Toji chortled. 

Jumping into the vehicle, the potent roar of the engine cut through the midnight air after you’ve settled neatly in the passenger seat, the only thing missing was the safety belt that was supposed to secure your form. Reaching to your side, Toji’s hand briefly brushed over your exposed thigh, the hem of your short dress riding up to merely cover your panty. 

A soft, almost inaudible noise fled your lips, and his eyes laid on your face, the faint, intimate gold beam from the street lamp illuminating your glowing features. Your orbs were luminous through the dark, and it roused an innate lasciviousness that lay dormant in his core. 

The liquor that flowed through your blood vessels had not quelled through the lapse of time, but it did not take away your clarity to feel the tension that electrified the air molecules into sweltering magnetism. And gosh do you want to snatch the constriction in the atmosphere and tear it through your canines. 

“Touch me,” you whispered, so soft and vulnerable Toji could seemingly snap you in half with just a touch. 

“You’re drunk, princess,” he reminded, yet he remained unshifted over your smaller frame, his hand merely a molecule from your tempting flesh that sang for his warmth. 

“No,” you were firm. Something in you purled, bubbling a heavy, demanding need to have him devour you. “I want you,” your breath was hot, scorchingly so; airy and desperate. 

“You want me?” his hand fell to your wrist, grasping your soft skin under his heavy hold, and guiding you over to his seat, straddling his lap. His gaze cut through your eyes, daubing pressure against your jumbled nerves, his intensity threatened to slice through the silky jugular of your vulnerability. And you nearly moaned under his eyes.

You gingerly nodded at him, and you thought the knit between your brows was enough to speak for your neediness. 

His grip on your wrist tightened a fraction before you missed the heat radiating from his palm. “Careful, princess. You might regret this,” he had paved a way out, it’s a leave it or fuck it situation served beneath your fingertip—and all the atoms in your body leaped into the growling blaze in the abyss residing in his essence. 

“Please,” your voice was barely a note above a mumble, yet the weight of your single word mitigated any marshalled resistance in him. 

His hands slid up your thighs, inching under your dress, sending tingles to your throbbing core. The intensity that radiated from him ceased to waver as he leaned against your neck, brushing against your skin as you gulped. Dark, ashen clouds drew above the emerald forest of his before he spoke, almost threateningly against your throat, “I want you to remember every single detail of this in the morning.”

With a breathless nod, you had swung the floodgates of your amenability open to his guttural thirst. The heavy, rapacious waves of your desires crash into superposition. You were the fuel and he was the fire, together the air detonated into space. 

His wet lips met yours in a whim, sucking onto your flesh until it stung, greedily tasting every crook and cranny of your wet cavern with the bumps of his tongue. You moaned into his mouth as your hands flew to clutch onto his head, deepening the kiss to reach his insides while his rough fingers sank into the plump flesh of your ass. 

Your lips burned with his saliva, and his tongue fluttered with yours. The atmosphere felt all-consuming, gripping onto your throat and restricting the air from flushing down your windpipe. Yet, your core pulsed between your thighs, an excited blaze slowly roaring into something bigger than you could handle. 

Your chest rose and fell in a quick tempo when you snatched your lips away from his, grasping as much air as you could within a second before you dove right into him. Albeit your sight was hazy, you caught sight of the luminous flush that panned over his cheeks. 

Pretty, pretty. You chanted in your head as your hands slid down to his clothes, clumsily popping the buttons off of the garment that kept the warmth of his skin away from your touch. You want him, you want him. 

Your fingers nearly melted when they met his hot, sinewy chest, and Toji’s teeth sank a little too hard into your bottom lip when you teased his nipples under your touch, innervating them hard with every flick. The salient bulge in his pants rolled against your folds, merely separated by an annoying piece of your underwear, and your moans jumbled into each other’s mouths

“Fuck, princess. You’re driving me crazy,” Toji breathily groaned when your sloppy lips sundered apart, a hot string of mixed saliva connecting your swollen, red lips together. His large hands lifted your ass up into the air as he palmed them, the warmth from him sending a snuggly sensation through your body. “It’s no fun when only you get to tease.”

Your eyes playfully gleamed, before the light shot out of the crater of your orbs—his finger pressed against your sodden panty, damp with arousal. The tingles shyly reached through your belly as he rubbed your hardening bud, and your body shuddered against his. 

“You’re not playing fair,” he murmured against your jaw, leaving trails of bruised kisses down your jugular. His hand left your heat just as the high came close to your clutch, leaving you with nothing but the lingering cold touches of his. 

With a defeated sigh, you ground your knee against his growing hardness, your finger shyly rubbing against the clothed tip of the constrained mount, the spot slowly growing dark from amativeness. 

Toji sunk deeper into the headrest as you touched him, his exposed chest ceaselessly rising and falling. His breath hitched in his throat when you twirled his sensitive nipple between your fingers; your heated exhales warming the side of his neck as his grip almost painfully firmed onto the fat of your ass. 

You didn’t allow his peaking orgasm to come through, forcing yourself off of his sore, throbbing erection, and your teeth bared into a dirty smile. “I am playing fair.”

“You want to test me, princess?” he chuckled, the bassy timbre of his scratching the knot of an itch inside your ears. A gasp leaped out of your throat as your body jolted forward, his seat clicked backward to its maximum taut, “I’ll make you cry for more.”

You found your back nestled in his stead, your thighs spread open with his calloused hand slipping down your supple flesh. His fingers tapped nearer and nearer to your heat, before slipping off your soiled panty. 

“So fuckin’ wet,” Toji sucked an inhale through his teeth as he leered at your dripping sex—thick, rough thumb fluttering friction on your clit once again. Your eyelids flitted shut as you softly moaned against the air, the smell of your arousal filled the confinement of the car; the scent nearly making him growl when it panged hard against his nostrils. 

You watched as Toji slipped a thick finger into your velvety folds, feeling it trodding past your walls. Your heat snugly enveloped him as he filled your inside with another digit, his two fingers pressing, and running themselves over your slick cunny. “Gotta stretch you good for me, princess.” 

Your back inched into the seat with a contented sigh, enjoying the build-up of ticklish pressure stacking up your tummy. Toji was ridiculously dexterous with his fingers—deftly stroking your cunt, and quick to find the spot in you that innervated your pure senses with a ting. 

“S-Shit—” your body was subservient to his touches; your spine curved into an arch, your toes curled tight and your fingernails dug into the flesh of his arm. “M’feel so good. Toji—fuck,” it was as if his fingers were gilded in Eros’ heavenly blessing, the godly grace spilling into your pleasure. Tears began prickling at the sides of your eyes from how hard you were squeezing them, your flailing legs kicking against the dashboard of his car. 

“So pretty when you cry,” Toji groaned under his breath, his damp restraints painfully throbbing from the way your squelching walls tightened around his fingers—oh, how he fucking wish it was his cock in you right there and then. 

His touches were singing your walls into melting squirts of drool, pearls of arousal weeping between your thighs in the wake of his careful strokes. Never were you touched in such a way, and you felt like balling from how good it felt. “M’ close! M’gonna cum! Oh my gosh—!”

“Come on. Cum for me, princess,” you could hear his smirk in his voice as pleasure kissed your senses, fluttering through your electrified nerves and sending a jolt of tingles all over your body. Your mouth was lax open into an ‘o’, nails marking his skin as they sank deeper into his arm, and your walls tightly spasmed with a wave of rough euphoria cracking your bones weak. You fucking came from his mere fingers. 

Your eyes bat open with your lips sundered from your pants, your face ardently glowing from your subduing high. “Fuck…” your wet thighs quivered from the sheer force of your orgasm, and you blinked in disbelief. 

Over 2 decades of living and it was the first time cumming from a real man, not your fingers nor toys. But the brawny, sex-dripped male slipping your dress off of your spent body. 

You almost fell in love. 

Pushing him down the driver’s seat, you crawled over Toji’s firm thighs, running your finger from his chest to his muscle-packed abdomen, then down to the wristband. You were flickering to take charge, and he sank down to your guidance, rough palms resting on your hips. 

Your dress was off, divulging the bare curves of your body, sweat-glazed skin iridescent under the moonbeam and your sex-flushed features were begging for him. You look so, fucking, perfect that he had to bite down the need to ruin you on the spot. 

His hips impatiently thrust upwards into your sticky cunt, grinding his pack against you, urgency in his essence demanding your heat. “Don’t keep me waiting now,” he purred, with a silent warning tagging behind his words. 

Your fingers tugged the waistband of his pants along with his briefs, a drive in you matching his pacing hastiness. His shaft sprang out of its painful confinement, and your eyes nearly popped out from the sheer look of his cock. 

He was oozing with sticky pre-cum from his angry, red tip, throbbing veins ran from the base of his length to the curved head—the size of him bigger than any you’ve seen. The smell of his masculine essence hit your senses and a new pool of arousal began drawing in your tummy, your pussy walls��squeezing in empty neediness.

“There’s no backing out now, princess,” Toji’s fingers firmly gripped onto your ass, lifting you over his cock, hovering.

“Who said I’m backing out?” you gulped, before lowering yourself down, his fat cockhead kissing your pussy lips before your hips greedily sank down his length, oblivious to the crackle of tingles it would send to your nerves.

“Careful there,” he teased with a chuckle as you let out an instinctual gasp from the way his girth stretched past your velvety walls, the slick sound of your arousal-dripped cunt, and his heavy shaft bubbled into the air, and scorched your cheeks red.

“M-My gosh…” you cried as your hazy gaze fell to the bulge jutting from the inside of your tummy, your walls taut with his heavy cock buried inside you. “I’m s’full, Toji.”

“Mhm,” he cooed, brushing his hands over the sides of your smooth thighs. “But you gotta start moving, baby.”

Gingerly, you lift your hips up before slowly inching them down his length. Your walls clenched as your sex rubbed friction, and you could feel every pulsing vein of his just as he could feel your fluttering warmth.

“Feel good, princess?” Toji asked breathily, your head faintly nodded, but there was a hint of a dubious glint in your fallen gaze, your knees lifting and sinking your weight.

“I need your help…” your voice cracked in disappointment as you paused, tears of frustration edging by your eyes. You couldn’t seem to grasp a steady pace no matter how long you painfully rode.

“What d’ya say?”

Your orbs looked as though they were melting off of your sweat-glazed skin, blinks of fervourish plea clawing from your drunken gaze into his. “Please, Toji,” your voice hitched, and you’re humping his pelvis. “Please…I want to feel good.”

Aww. How fucking adorable.

You yelped when you felt yourself being raised and slammed down his cock, your folds burning with every stretch of your walls. And it feels so good. “Y-Yes…” your eyes closed shut, fingers scrambling to grip his locks. “T-Toji—mhaa!”

“You’re so fuckin’ cute screaming my name,” the curve of his tip perfectly kissed your g-spot with each piston of his hips, and every time the twitching head of his meat met your gummy part, it sent a flash of electricity up your spine.

“S-Sho good—” you slurred through your words, weighed head lolling idly to every thrust of his fat cock.

“No one can get you dripping off their cock like this, huh?”

“Mmh—yes!” the space between your brows was crumpled into a tensed frown, your hips bouncing up and down his thick girth with his hands guiding your pace. “I love it! I love your cock!”

Toji let out a low groan when you cried, bucking himself deeper into your sloppy mess of a cunt and kissing the surface of your cervix. “Fuck—I love an honest girl.”

Your muscles nearly melted off of your bones as he continued to fucked himself deeper than you’ve ever felt, reaching the parts you didn’t know could be touched and your features dropped with his touches on your deep intimacy. A fierce sear of heat burned through your tingling womb, and it threatened to consume your body whole. “M’ cummin’! Toji—!”

“I know, I know, let it out f’me. Come on,” he grunted, keeping his grip firm on your arms as he fucked himself hard and deep into you. He could feel your squelching cunny clench, so tight as for the purpose of milking him on the spot. “Keep bouncin’ on my cock, yeah?”

“Nngh—No more!” you squealed. “N-No—” his thumb drew between your shaking thighs and greedily swiped over your blushing clit. Your fingernails sank into your palms as you gripped for dear sanity, his cock continuously violating your fluttering spots until they grew sore.

“I can make you feel better, princess,” he mumbled tinglingly against your neck, sinking his teeth down your flesh to hold back a shaky moan. His pleasure was inching to fly to release, and your tight clutch onto his shaft was nothing but a catalytic lure.

“S’ hurts—please!” your babbles were almost indecipherable as he rammed into your sore cunt, his fingers digging into your soft flesh holding onto you tenaciously; pushing you right to the edge of oblivion as he clung onto his nearing release.

“Cum f’me again, baby?”

“M’can’t! Still sensitive—!” you cried before another orgasm shot through your core. You felt as if you were sent up into the ether, stars teeming through your body as the waves of pleasure sent you on a vertigo ride. Your gasps dragged through your lips, your eyelids hung heavily over your bleary eyes, with tears slipping down your hot cheeks.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—M’close too, baby,” Toji swore through his bared teeth, his cock painfully twitching as thick semen surged through his tip—his hips rolled as your cunt squeezed his remaining sanity, popping them like fireworks before they burst into nothingness.

Your essence squirted out of your tensed cunny, shooting with his mixed cum that dripped down his belly. Your breaths shaky and hot with heightened senses, your sticky sex pulsing in overstimulation.

Exhausted, you fell prostrated on top of his hard muscle-built body, head undulating with the ups and downs of his heaving chest. And slowly, your cognisance drifted back into your mind, the aftermath of everything—the alcohol and the sex, pummelled into you like a heavy truck. Unforgivingly so.

“Toji…I really feel like pukin—”

© toji-bunny-girl ― all rights reserved. do not modify, translate, plagiarise or repost my work

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw (gym owner+ your personal trainer Simon)

Simon notices you the moment you step into the gym. nervous, pretty, looked entirely out of place. He greets you with a nod and a gruff “Hello” when you saunter to the counter and look up at him timidly. Gleaming doe eyes meeting his and a bit intimidated by his presence.

“I want…want to sign up for the course…” your voice comes out soft and quiet, still a bit scared by the wall of man in front of you. His lips curl upward slightly, though his schedule is pretty tight already, but he doesn’t mind squeezing time out just for a cute and beautiful girl like you.

“The only time I’m free now is 21:00.” Simon said, asking if you’re okay with it, and you agree without a doubt. This is the gym closest to your place, and has the highest rating among others, you don’t mind if the session will start a bit later in the night.

He’s a great personal trainer, like the what the comments say on the internet. He’s meticulous, knows how to effectively improve your stance. You’re not sure if it’s normal for personal trainers to stand this close when you’re squatting, so close that you can feel the heat radiating off him, his breath fanning on the nape of your neck. maybe he just wants to make sure you won’t accidentally hurt yourself, you think to yourself after few sessions with him.

Simon can’t forget the first session, you step into the gym with the sports bra and gym shorts, hair tied into a high bun that shows off your flawless neck, he wonders how smooth it will feel when he runs his fingers along it. His chest touches your rear when you’re lifting weights, “In case your grip slips.” He tells you when he sees the confusion in your eyes. His eyes glued on your hips when you just finished few reps of lying leg curls, ass cheeks so nice and supple, you breathe a bit fast as you keep lying on the training machine, unaware of him try not to form a boner from ogling at your moist lips and the contours of your body.

You’re a bit frustrated with the progress you made so far, asking him if you’re not working hard enough. Your slight pout is too adorable, and he resists the urge not to swipe his thumb over your bottom lip. “You’re doing alright, give your body some time to build muscles.” Simon reassures you, but he can still see the chagrin on your face. You’re stressed out, he can tell, and as your personal trainer, it’s his job to help his student unwind, yeah?

The disappointment and anxiety are thrown to the back of your mind when he sits on the bench in front of the mirror, two fingers deep inside you, twirling and pressing the gooey spots with you moaning on his lap.

“Look at the mirror, sweetheart, look how beautiful you look when your little pussy’s swallowing my fingers.” His other hand move to your chin, turn your head towards the mirror. You can see his smug smile even with that disposable mask on, his fingers shoved deep into your cunt, bring out your profuse juices when he drags his fingers out. The scene is too embarrassing, your cheeks flush with arousal and shyness when you shift your gaze away from the mirror.

“Look at the mirror, love.” His tongue clicks twice, tone firm without any space for you to reject, so you obediently look back, let out a high-pitched sweet whine as you watch how his cock sinks into your tight cunt, pussy lips pushed aside to fit his fat cock. “Fucking pussy so tight, so perfect…fuck…” He inhales deeply, landing a soft swat on your bum and makes you yelp at the comfortable sting.

He definitely didn’t choose to schedule your session this late, that no one will be in gym except you two, so he can bend you over every surfaces here and fuck you till you squirt all over the nearest wall. His hips never cease, shows you how much stamina and strength he has as the best personal trainer. Pinning you over the machine you did lying leg curls, the angle of the it allows your ass to arch up and let him drive his pierced cock deeper, each piercings knead and glide through your spots one by one every time he slams his hips back.

When your thighs’ twitching even harder than they were after your leg days, you looking up at him with dazed eyes, entirely blissed out from how many mind blowing orgasms he gave you, Simon lifts you up again, easily maneuver you to hook your knees over his elbows, he pushes his cum-drenched dick inside again, still rock hard and ready to wrench yet another release from your heavenly cunny. He walks you to the mirror again, every steps makes his hips bucks and cock thrust up in the force, and all you can do is moan and whimper. “too much, too much Simon…”

But He only huffs out a laughter at your words while he stops in front of the mirror, giving you the full view to the reflection—your fucked dumb expression, thighs spread widely and supported by his strong arms, pussy swollen and clit peaks out from the folds, yet your tight walls still massaging his cock nicely as if you’re trying to please him.

“So perfect, princess. look just right when you’re in my arms.” Simon presses a kiss to your shoulder, adjust his grip and let your weight help him to reach the deepest, the tip of his shaft rest against your cervix. “Let’s have the next round on the leg press machine, yeah? I know you hate doing leg press the most, maybe you’ll be more pliant the next time, because you know how I’ll make you soak that seat after the session ends, hmm?”

[syluss-littlecrow]

Hi there, I dunno of you take requests but I'd like to request Sylus with MC who's love language is biting. And MC would also totally leave marks. And Sylus would think of his own payback for her everytime.

red marker

<sylus x fem!reader>

genre/warnings: smut, pwp, unprotected sex, biting kink, backshots, pussy eating, breeding kink, size kink

w/c: 1.2K

a/n: thank you for my very first fic request here ❤️ sylus is definitely a biter (his little fangs!!) just wanna say I have plenty of skin for him to take a chomp off 😛

Sylus stares at the mirror, specifically staring down at the whole garden of love bites you’ve planted him with. He knows you’ve been biting him when he’s fucking you, but he doesn’t realise how much you’ve been taking bites out of him like he’s strawberry shortcake. 

Well, not that he minded. The thought of you thinking of marking him as yours secretly makes his heart flutter.

So he should return the favour, right?

Sylus takes in the scent of his shampoo on you, his eyes screwed shut as slowly breaths pull out of him. His palm is warm against the small of your back. You smell so fucking good just filled of him. It reminds him that you’re his. 

And even with his cock sheathed deep inside of you right now, he still thinks this isn’t enough. 

While swimming in his thoughts, he feels a sharp pain scatter on his shoulder blade. It barely lasts before it switches to pleasure when he realises that you’re biting onto his skin again. 

“Sweetie, aren’t you enjoying this too much?”, his low groans sending goosebumps across your skin. 

His fingers brush your hair away, his attention aimed on your neck, before he latches his lips, then his teeth, testing your pain threshold, ready to release at any sign of discomfort that you give. 

But a soft moan and your pussy tightening against his cock is what you return him. And Sylus can’t help but sink his teeth a little deeper while he forces you to fuck his cock. 

Your lewd cries grow louder whenever you lift yourself off his cock and impale yourself once more, and your lips have completely left his skin. 

Sylus presses his lips on your chest, cupping both tits with his large and slender fingers, pinching your nipples, all while grazing his teeth and licking your tits. It drives you nuts, and he figures that from the way cream is just coating his dick while he makes you ride him. 

He nibbles against the soft skin of your breast, then sucking the tender flesh, making sure he sees a soft bruise bloom on your chest. And he repeats it, over and over again, until you completely come undone on his dick, your pussy fluttering and leaking all over him, and your thighs shaking from being forced to cum all over his thick cock. 

He pauses to look up at you. His hand now is at the nape of your neck. 

“Did you cum all over my dick?” He asks, watching you nod your head shakily, the remnants of your orgasm still lingering in your spent pussy. 

Your mind is still hazy, but you still answer him, “yeah.”

“Good girl”, he chuckles. “But we’re not done yet.”

Sylus lifts you off him, and he’s already missing your warm tightness. Nonetheless, he has other plans. He can be patient. 

With much ease, consisting of a whole lot of using his Evol, you’re settled with his face between your legs. 

You’re about to protest about him not cumming yet, but when his tongue flicks against your wet clit, your mind shuts off, leaving behind trails of cries from overstimulation.

He switches between fucking his tongue into your pussy and then trailing his lips to the soft and thick flesh of your inner thighs—his actual target. 

You jolt at the sensation of his teeth grazing against your flesh again, a nice wave of slick slowly spilling out of your pathetic hole. 

Sylus makes sure he’s had his fill, and that’s filling your thighs with his bite marks and love bites until he’s satisfied. 

“Dirty kitten, getting off from being bitten, hmm?” The male in between your legs teases. He only receives a whine in response. 

Sylus quickly realises why you enjoy marking him so much—he wants to mark you all over as his too. He could get hooked onto this. 

He doesn’t forget to switch to the other side, sending your mind into an overstimulated frenzy when it’s as if he’s ready to have you for his next meal. 

Bruises and bite marks slowly fill up the empty spaces of your skin, with Sylus enjoying your sobs while your pussy only grows wetter from the sting. 

“Sylus, I’m sensitive-“, you whimper, your hands messing up his pale locks. Sylus casts you. an amused expression before he decides to have mercy on you, and pulls away. Sylus shifts to meet your eye level, pulling you into a dizzy kiss. 

His palms slide down your body, he leans into you, but he doesn’t press his weight onto you. 

“Turn around for me, kitten.” His whispers, and you do, soft gasps leaving your lips when you arch your back against him, feeling his thick cock rest against your creamy folds. 

“That’s it”, he encourages with praise, his hand adjusting his cock to line up right to your pulsing cunt before he pushes himself in, stuffing you full with a strained groan. “That’s a good fucking girl.”

He hears your quiet whimpers, and this time, he presses his body weight onto you. His fingers lift your chin up so you’re forced to face Sylus from the side. 

When he pulls out and thrusts into you from behind, it makes your thighs tremble from the sheer pleasure. 

The pace he’s setting is making you see stars, and when his lips are on your shoulder once more and he’s sinking his teeth into your skin, you’re losing it. 

You can barely keep your eyes open, your body completely submitting to the pleasure that Sylus is sinking you in. 

“Does this feel good, kitten?” He asks while another smack echoes in his room, his cock railed into you for the nth time.

Attempts to process his words are futile, especially not when he’s fucking your thoughts out of you. 

“So good. So fucking amazing”, you’re borderline sobbing, unintentionally pushing yourself back to make sure he’s making you full to the brim from every stroke 

While he’s drowning you in pleasure, Sylus makes sure he leaves a couple of marks down your neck to the best of his abilities. 

“I’m gonna cum”, your strained voice catches his attention, along with the way your pussy is squeezing Sylus’s dick. He groans at the sensation, his thrusts growing more heavy and desperate. Undoubtedly, you feel like fucking heaven on his cock. 

And when he feels you let go on his cock, his grip around on your neck tightens. He’s definitely not lasting any longer. Not when you’re luring him down with you like this. He wants so badly to ruin you, bring you down with him, mark every bare skin of yours possible.

So he does.

Sylus makes sure his final bite for the night blooms a gorgeous shade of wine on your bare skin, while his cum fills you up all the way, enjoying the way you’re shaking and whining. 

The corner of Sylus’s lips curl into a smirk while he watches you slowly drift into your slumber, your body inching close to him to catch his warmth. His gaze trails down to your chest, admiring his work of art—his bites imprinted across your neck, shoulders, chest, and especially around your nipples. He knows he’s ready for a scolding if you find out, but Sylus gets it now—there’s nothing more beautiful and satisfying as reminding you that you belong to him. 

[harrysfolklore]

lando norris being down bad for his girlfriend: a compilation

summary: lando norris can’t help but talk about his girlfriend whenever he cans, fans make compilation videos about it

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Lando Norris could be described as someone who's not scared of saying whatever crossed his mind.

And that's why he never, ever, missed the opportunity to talk about his girlfriend whenever he had the chance.

He mentioned her during interviews, press conferences, social media post and even fan interactions. To the point where fans started making compilation videos with all the moments he publicly obsessed over his girlfriend.

The most popular one gathered millions of views on YouTube, showing multiple occasions Lando couldn't help but be down bad for her.

The video started with a clip from Q&A with fans, someone asked him about his favorite way to relax after a race. Without missing a beat, Lando replied, "Cuddling up with my girlfriend, of course. Nothing beats that."

"You're really whipped man, It's embarrassing," Oscar, his teammate, teased beside him, making the audience laugh.

"It's not, really." Lando shrugged proudly.

The next clip was taken from McLaren's Tiktok account, their content creator tried to do the "Can you watch my ___ for a second" prank on Lando.

"Oh my girlfriend already did this prank to me," Lando said, laughing at the camera, "Baby, If you're watching this, I miss you. Your pranks are way better than McLaren's"

The video moved to show Lando during a post-qualifying interview, his suit hanging by his waist and his fireproofs showing, when asked about his strategy for the race, he cheekily replied, "Well, first I'm going to call my girlfriend for some good luck wishes. Then, I'll focus on getting to the front."

"Zak Brown should hire your girlfriend as your strategist then," the interviewer joked.

"That would be great but I don't think we would be getting any job done. You know what they say about mixing business with pleasure."

The next clip showed Lando with his friend and fellow driver Max Fewtrell, playing a trivia game about how well did they knew each other. Max had to answer what was Lando's worst habit.

"I'm going to say leaving dirty plates around the house," he said, showing his board, "You do mate, admit it."

"My girlfriend would agree on that," he admitted, "She's always complaining about it."

"I don't know how she's still living with you."

"Because she loves me, and I would die if she leaves me."

On the same note, a video of Oscar teasing Lando followed right after.

"Who's most likely to snore?" Lando read the question, and Oscar quickly put ut the cutout with Lando's face, "How are you so sure? You didn't even hesitate."

"Mate, I've heard you, plus your girlfriend literally complained about not being able to sleep properly last night because you kept snoring."

"I did keep her up last night, but it wasn't just because of the snoring," Lando said, a cheeky grin on his face.

"Put the not safe for work disclaimer at the beginning of this video please."

The next segment was from Lando's own Youtube channel, he was doing a little vlog in Miami before the race weekend.

"Hi everyone," he said, filming himself in the mirror with his camera, "Today I'm back with another LandoLog, I'm going to be filming some behind the scenes of this Miami weekend, so without further ado, let's go," he moved the camera around, focusing on his girlfriend who was putting some mascara on her eyelashes, "Here's my beautiful girl, who takes ages to get ready. Say hi baby."

"Hi everyone," his girlfriend waved, laughing, "I'm not taking ages, I'm just making sure I look good."

"You always look good for me," Lando said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before turning the camera back to himself, "See, I told you she's the best."

The next clip showed Lando and Oscar together once again, this time they were giving a tour around the McLaren hub.

"This is my driver's room," Lando said as he opened the door, "It's cleaner than Oscar's, clearly, and looks like I have a bed."

Lando moved to put together the small bed that was behind the door, "This is an upgrade from last year, we didn't have this. I'll be definitely giving it some good use, to nap or with my girlfriend."

"Can we have a video where you're not a horndog please?" Oscar said, putting his hands on his hips.

"You're the horndog, I never said what we were going to use it for, we're just going to cuddle."

The video moved to show one of Lando's post race interviews after winning the Miami GP, he had been asked ho would be the most excited person about this win besides him.

"My girlfriend, definitely. I couldn't have done it without her," Lando said, his voice filled with emotion, "She's been my biggest supporter, my inspiration, and my motivation. This win is as much hers as it is mine."

The video then cut to a scene from Lando's gaming stream with Max Verstappen. The two drivers were deep into a game of Call of Duty, their banter and laughter filling the screen. Lando was focused, his eyes glued to the monitor as he coordinated with Max.

Just then, Lando's phone buzzed on the table beside him. He glanced at the screen and his expression softened, the comment section noticing, "Hey, mate, I need to go. My girl needs me for something," he said, setting down his controller.

"Lando! Are you serious right now?" Max said, his eyes still glued to the screen.

"I am, see ya," he turned to the camera, smiling not so apologetically "Sorry, guys, duty calls. See you next time."

The last scene was a snippet from an interview, Lando had been asked what he saw in his future.

He paused, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Honestly? I see a lot of racing, hopefully some championships," he laughed, "but most importantly, I see her. I can't imagine my life without her."

The screen faded to black, showing a text that read: Get you a man who is as down for you as Lando Norris is for his girlfriend.

[pochaccoups]

hhu’s love languages (nsfw)

seungcheol —; biting

oh, how he loves to sink his teeth into your precious skin.

he’ll admit it—it’s a little bit (read: a lot) of a possessive thing. it’s not enough for him to have you face down, ass up, writhing underneath him as he pounds you into tomorrow. he just can’t resist from leaning over you, pressing his broad, sweat-slicked chest to your back, and clamping down on the curve of your neck with his teeth.

it doesn’t help that you say his name so pretty when he does; a breathy, high-pitched moan of two syllables—“cheollie,”—that drives him to insanity.

and it’s not just your neck that falls victim to his bite. it’s his favourite, yes—it’s easily accessible in all of your favourite positions, after all. but no part of you is safe.

when his head is between your legs, he kisses up along your calf, mouths at the fat of your thigh before you feel the soft sting of his teeth sinking into it. only then is he satisfied. only then does he give you what you want: his mouth on your pussy as he eats you out so good it leaves your entire body shaking.

when you’re sat in his lap, bouncing on his cock like a bitch in heat despite the way your thighs burn, his mouth finds your tits like a moth to a flame. they’re sensitive, he knows that, so he’s considerate enough to go a little easier on them, nibbling at the soft skin. he’ll still leave his mark on them, of course, only instead of bite marks he litters your chest with dark little love bites.

he loves nothing more than seeing your reaction to his dirty little habit. when you waddle off to the bathroom and leave him laying there in post-orgasm bliss, a yelp of his name has him grinning and jumping to his feet.

he finds you glaring at the mirror, with your hair a mess and your features flustered from the sight of the perfect teeth indentation on your right shoulder.

“i look like a shark attack survivor! how am i supposed to cover this?” you ask, exasperated.

and the worst thing about choi seungcheol is how hard it is to be mad at him. when he presses himself against you, snakes his arms around your waist, and drops his head to dot kisses all over the mark in question, you find yourself melting into him with an ease like it’s ingrained in you.

eventually, he speaks up, muttering his words into your skin: “don’t cover it.”

wonwoo —; hand holding

wonwoo, your sweet wonwoo. so shy that he gets flustered when you hold his hand in public.

in the dim lighting of your bedroom, though, he’s not so shy. in fact it’s you who’s flustered, your body searing hot, your head spinning from the weight of your boyfriend on top of you.

he’s got you manhandled onto your stomach, kneeling between your spread legs, fucking you like he’s trying to carve the shape of his cock into your very womb. what’s worse is the way his hands, lithe and pretty, take yours, pinning you to the mattress so he can drive his hips harder into you.

“w-wonwoo,” you sob, squeezing and grasping at the fingers that are laced with yours.

“hmm? what’s wrong, pretty girl?” he asks, practically cooing into your ear. “can’t take it?”

“i can,” you whimper, clenching around him, pressing your hips up into his thrusts. to show him.

“yeah, there you go. fuck, take my cock so good, don’t you?”

if you were to try and tell anyone that jeon wonwoo was capable of speaking like this, you’re sure they wouldn’t believe you. the wonwoo who can barely hold your hand in front of others, let alone kiss you? that wonwoo?

it’s the same wonwoo who fucks your face without remorse, who fingers you until you squirt, who eats you out until you can’t feel your legs—that wonwoo. and the best thing about him is that he’ll hold your hand through all of them, even as he abuses your poor cunt, like it’s reassurance. a touch of mercy to remind you he’s still your boyfriend who loves you so much even if he fucks you like an ex.

after all, he is a romantic. what’s more romantic than your pretty boyfriend holding your hands when he’s fucking your brains out?

mingyu —; choking

it may or may not be his habit of playfully grabbing his members by their neck that floods your mind with the idea of being in their place.

you’ve always had a thing for mingyu’s hands, even before you’d started dating him. the sheer size of them, the thickness of his fingers—all of it would have you squeezing your thighs together at just the thought of what he could use them for. (to make you see heaven and above, as you came to find out).

but mingyu is a gentleman in the most literal sense of the word. he’s big, he’s strong, and he compensates for that by treating you like glass. not that he doesn’t fuck you hard when you ask, but putting his hands around your neck is not something that even enters his mind. he’d let himself be struck dead before he’d use his strength to harm you.

fortunately, you’re good at getting your way with him—especially when he’s got his dick buried inside you. every last shred of his rationality goes straight out the window the moment he feels the hot, wet embrace of your pussy around him.

he grabs at your hips, your thighs, your tits; his fingers cling to every inch of your skin to keep himself from falling over the edge of insanity because you’re so fucking tight around him that it’s dizzying.

“gyu,” you moan, and he’s alert in an instant, like a dog called on by its owner, ready for his next command. “choke me?”

his thrusts falter and his features are questioning, yet you don’t miss the way his cock throbs against your walls at your words.

“baby, i don’t know if i should-”

“please, gyu?” you plead, gazing up at him, tightening your thighs where they’re wrapped around your waist. “for me?”

and kim mingyu is many things, but tenacious is not one of them.

when it comes to you he’s hopeless, nothing but a weak fool in love. it’s why he doesn’t stop you when you take him by his wrist and guide his giant hand to sit just above your clavicle. you don’t make him squeeze or anything, you leave that up to him. you just want him to see it, to feel it. to get a glimpse into the fantasy you’ve been keeping from him.

his hips slow, his eyes darkening as he gazes down at you with an affection you’ve never seen from him. gently, his fingers, which almost wrap around the entire circumference of your neck, start to press. it’s barely enough pressure to tickle, but fuck, it’s so hot it sends your eyes rolling back.

suddenly mingyu gets it. adrenaline flushes through his body and goes straight to his cock—it’s a sight he wants etched into his brain forever. your eyes hazy, a tiny, content smile on your kiss-swollen lips, his massive hand gripping your neck as he fucks you with a new kind of fervour. he gets it, and he can’t believe he didn’t get it sooner.

you can see it clearly���how, in just a matter of time, he’ll have his forehead pressed to yours, his cock grazing the spot that has you seeing stars over and over while his hand cuts off your airflow, choking you hard, the way you’ve always wanted.

vernon —; spitting

is it cliche and predictable to assign him this? maybe. but what if he’s not the one doing the spitting?

he’s a little bit obsessed with letting you do what you want with him. it’s not a dom or sub thing—vernon’s an easygoing guy in all aspects of life, and if you feel like sitting in his lap and making out with him until you’re both gasping for air, the last thing he’ll do is complain.

his favourite thing of all is when you ride him. fuck, everything about you is mesmerising; the way you grind your hips over his cock so expertly, the way you brace your hands against his chest, letting your nails rake into his skin ever so often, the way your head tips backwards and your moans spill out in the sweetest song.

vernon gazes up at you like you put the stars in the sky, like you brought about life itself, like he can’t believe he’s the one who gets to see you like this. his eyes, dark, round, and glimmering, are a picture of how enamoured he is with you. he has no idea how crazy it drives you.

it’s natural the way your hand reaches for his cheek, the way your thumb moves to glide over his lips, soft and puffy. vernon falls in love for the millionth time when you dip it inside his mouth, push it gently against his tongue, gathering up his spit on the tip of your finger. it makes his dick jump to be at your mercy like this. his hips buck up into yours, desperate to drive himself even deeper into the addictive heat of your cunt.

you press his mouth open, just slightly, just enough, and lean forward. a pearl of your saliva, of you, lands in the centre of his tongue, and he doesn’t have time to swallow it before your mouth finds his, kissing him with greed. it’s messy—lips smacking, your moans mingling with his, but the thing about vernon is that you cannot get enough of him. even though he’s inside you and you’re skin to skin with and your mouths are connected.

you pull away, your grin cat-like, your attention shifting back to the stretch of his cock as you bounce up and down him with a newfound desperation.

“god, you’re hot,” he whispers, his own lips quirking into a fucked-out smile.

“yeah? you like it when i spit in your mouth, hansollie? so dirty,” you reply.

he doesn’t last much longer after that.

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

Spank me, Slap me, Choke me, Bite me

(Gojo, Geto, Toji, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna)

Gojo Satoru

As much as Gojo loved trying different sex positions. You always ended sex in missionary. He loves to have you stuck under him, not able to move because he’s pressing all his body weight onto you. He loves to watch your cute face as he’s deep inside you. He loves to hear all the sounds you make that bless his ears. He loves to caress your soft and silky skin, especially from your neck to your chest. He loves to bite. 

His hands travel down to grip your waist as he looks down at you with a smirk. Blue eyes sparkling with lust for you. “You look so good…” He buries his face in the crook of your neck. “And you smell so good…” 

“Toru…” you cry out. Your arms and legs wrapped around him, his hips snapping forwards as he sinks himself deeper into you, grazing your cervix with every single thrust. His tongue traces a path down to the top of your breast. “I’m almost there,” you utter into his ear. 

You suddenly feel sharp canines bite deep into your warm flesh. The pain and pleasure from your orgasm merge together deliciously as you come undone. A string of “I'm sorrys” and “I love you’s” leave Satoru’s lips like a chant as he fills you with his cum once again. The bite mark he left on your body to be forgotten until morning when you scold him even though you know he will do it again and again. 

Geto Suguru

Saying Geto loved your ass was an understatement. He worshipped it. Spanking your ass wasn’t anything new to him or you but his favorite time to do it was when he puts you in reverse cowgirl in front of a mirror. Making you watch as he fucks his hips into you tantalizingly, as he watches your face contort into the most fucked out expressions. One strong hand on your body for support and the other on the plump of your ass.

Smack

His hand lands on you with a delicious sting that sends a shockwave through your body causing you to let out a desperate whine. His body reacts to the sweet noises escaping your lips as he grabs your hips harshly, thrusting deeply into you. 

“You like that? Look at yourself, pretty girl.” he grunts, a free hand coming around your body to grope your tits. “You like when I spank you, don’t you baby? 

He never failed to turn you into a mess when you were on his cock. You could only give him a small nod before another heavy spank landed on the other cheek. His thrusts become more erratic as the hand from your tits falls down to your clit, rubbing as he keeps fucking you. 

“Cum for me princess…” 

Toji Fushiguro

Toji loved having you in a prone bone. He was able to feel the recoil of your ass against him as he slammed himself into you but still keeping the intimacy between you as he places soft kisses on your shoulder and praises you for how good you are taking his cock. He leans down to press his forehead against the back of your neck, his breath hot and heavy in your ear. 

“Fuck… this pussy feels so good,” Toji grunts as he keeps up the pace in his thrust, determined to make you cum. “You feel so fucking good around my cock.” 

Toji’s pace quickens as he feels you react to his words, your walls clenching tight around him. “Good girl,” he huffs with a deep rasp in his voice, his hand coming around to wrap around your neck. His hand tightens around your throat, restricting your airflow just enough to give you a rush of pleasure and help you reach your high. It took you a bit to realize he was choking you. 

“Such a good girl, can you cream around my cock f’me?” He teases you, knowing you can’t answer him but, oh did he know you would. His hips begin slamming into you with more force. As you feel your nth orgasm of the night build up inside you, Toji follows you over the edge. Thrusts slowing down into you as he spills his seed inside. Slowly he pulls out of you, once again placing soft kisses upon your body. 

Nanami Kento

Nanami liked when you would bring up new things to try in the bedroom. He lived to please you and if you liked something, he did too. So when you suggested he should spank you, he couldn’t deny you. Especially when you looked so pretty bent over his lap, in the prettiest lingerie and your ass all perked for him. 

“Are you sure about this?” He questions, running a hand over your ass. “What if I hurt you?”

“I’m so sure Ken… please,” you pout. 

“Okay” His hand comes up and lands softly on your ass. 

“Ken, like you mean-” 

Spank 

Before you can even finish your sentence. His hand lands harshly on your ass. So much harder than the first time, it shut you up real quick. “Like that, honey?” he asks you a hint of cockiness behind his voice. It took him a while to build the confidence to do it without you asking but, once he understood how much you loved it. He couldn’t stop and you didn’t want him to. 

Choso Kamo

If Choso could, he’d choose to die between your legs. The man loved your pussy. His pupils dilate at just the sight of you naked on his bed, spreading your legs open for him. Falling to his knees in front you, eyes like a predator hunting his prey, already salivating his meal. He gently gropes your thighs, his tongue begins lapping at your wet cunt. Desperates to taste every inch of it but, lately Choso had a knack for biting. 

It started off as innocent little nibbles to the side of your thighs but, soon enough his teeth grazed over your clit and he would slightly tug it. A sharp whine leaves your lips. 

“Did that hurt?” he coos. One look at that man and you could tell he was pussy drunk and you did not have it in your heart to tell him he couldn’t bite your clit. It didn't even hurt that bad anyways. Choso was always so gentle. 

“No baby… keep going” 

And he did. And he loves it. Decorating your thighs with bite marks, gnawing and pulling on your clit. He was so proud of himself for finding he could use his teeth to please you as well and your moans were only more encouraging for him. 

Sukuna

If Sukuna really wanted to hurt you, you’d be dead. You’ve seen how he tortures and kills other people with moving a muscle. So when Sukuna would slap you during sex you knew it was because he loved the way you made him feel. He didn’t know how to express himself any other way. And god, he loves that smirk you’d give him after he did slap you. 

“Yeah you like that brat?” He holds your chin in place so you can look at him, sharp nails digging into your skin as he allows your legs to come down from the mating press he had you in. 

Another slap lands on your face before he dips his head down to kiss you. His way of soothing the pain with pleasure.  He quickly picks up his pace again mercilessly fucking it you. He feels so good that tears start to build up around your eyes. 

“Such a curious little creature… you like when I slap you but then you cry?” Sukuna boasts as he punctates his words with rough thrusts. “N-no,” you whine. 

“Or is it because my cock makes you feel so good?” He whispers into your ear, his tongue lapping up the tear that threatened to fall down your face. It was about to be another long night. 

[swordsandholly]

Double Date - Double Down

NSFW | MDNI

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!plus size!reader

Word count: 4.9k

Summary: When you get a call in the middle of the afternoon from your friend begging you to fill an empty spot on a double date your initial instinct is a hard no. After all, no one wants to go on a blind double date and be surprised by the fat friend. It doesn’t help that this Simon guy is stupid fucking hot and obviously doesn’t like you - if his lack of talking is anything to go by.

A/N: Just a fun little oneshot I used as a warmup between working on chapters of future multi chapter projects.

“I said *no*.” You snap, angrily folding the washcloth in your hands.

Your friend splutters from the other side of the phone, the desperation in her voice only growing now that she’s on her fourth ask. “*Pleeeaase*! Steph backed out last minute and no one else is free-“

“How do you know I’m free?”

“You just said you were!”

You huff. She’s got you there. When she first called, you admitted you didn’t have anything going on but that was *before* she told you the plan for the night. Before she mentioned that her very, very conventionally hot military boyfriend wanted to do a little double date with his friend and one of hers. Plus, you take a least a little offense to being second choice. Really, last choice, it seems.

“Cass, you can’t just set up a blind date and take your fat friend. That’s not-“

“You’re not fat, love. You’re beautiful.” Her words drip with turned honey. You make a gagging face to yourself in the mirror. “You just need more confidence!”

You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could try, for the millionth time, to explain to her the nuanced ins and outs of dating as a fat woman. The rules and stats that could rival even the most complex rpg… or you could be petty. It takes less time to be petty. “If I go, you’re paying for my drinks.”

“Johnny’s friend will probably-“

“Yeah, and when he leaves you’re paying for my tab.”

“He won’t-“

“We got a deal?”

She clicks her tongue. “*Fiiiine*.”

At least you can get wasted for free either way. A small consolation. She texts you the time and location, barely leaving you with enough time to shower and turn yourself into something presentable. Not that you really care. It’s going to be shit either way, most likely. Staring yourself down in the mirror, you suppose you could at least try to look somewhat attractive. If you’re about to get rejected (or possibly shouted at, you’ll never forget *that* horrendous interaction) you might as well feel your best.

The pub is small as you push through the front door. Casual. A couple pool tables, some darts, a large bar and few booths with stools on the outer side. You scan the room, searching for Cass’s familiar face.

“Over here!” Cass waves with a wide arc at you, a grin plastered from ear to ear. At least she’s having fun.

You take a long breath, bracing yourself for whatever is about to happen. Cass introduces you to her boyfriend - who is somehow even hotter in person. You can see why she’s so smitten with him. Johnny looks you up and down as he shakes your hand. He doesn’t comment, or make a face, or really react in any particular way, but you can feel a shift. Something in his eyes…

Maybe it’s just your imagination. You’ve always been a little over sensitive.

“Si will be back in a sec. Stepped over tae get a drink.” He flashes a grin.

You hum, quietly folding your hand as Cass pushes a cocktail for you that she preemptively ordered. Criticize her as much as you like, she knows her mixes.

“There he is.” Johnny grins, turning slightly.

You follow his gaze, heart sinking as your eyes settle on the man approaching your table. He’s massive. Tall and wide. Total brick shithouse. His face is mostly covered by a black surgical mask. A few years ago you might have questioned it but at this point you couldn’t care less, especially when his dark eyes meet yours, small flecks of gold honey catching the low bar lights. Barely styled tufts of blonde hair stick up from his head. They look like they might curl if he let it grow a little longer.

All in all, wayyyy out of your league.

He settles into his seat with all the confidence of any military man - back ramrod straight. He extends a large hand. “Simon Riley.”

You murmur your name, somewhat enthralled by the half lidded, almost bored look in his eyes. Now that he’s closer you notice a large scar splitting his left eyebrow and light, newly forming crows feet in the corners of his eyes.

“S-so you’re military, too?” You stutter, eyes trained on his the massive hand holding his glass. It’s nicely vascular, his nails are well groomed but it also looks like he could snap you in half with it.

Not that that’s entirely a bad thing - whatever that may or may not say about you.

He nods. “I’m a Lieutenant.”

“Oh! Officer position. So you’re smart, then?” You try to be charming, to give him a sweet smile and keep your body language open.

“Enough.” He deadpans. It takes a few beats for you to realize he’s not going to say anything else.

“Uh…” You squirm awkwardly under his gaze. It’s intense - his dark eyes nearly black in the low light of the bar. “I do hair.”

Conversation is slow, to say the least. The longest answer he gives you is maybe five words. He only flips up the mask long enough to take a sip of his drink every so often. You start to talk less, opting toward a group conversation in which Johnny takes the lead, which he is obviously very good at. He regales you and Cass with a few stories of his and Simon’s adventures. Some funny, some brave, some worrying. He’s setting the man up to be a god, nearly, but Simon himself just shakes his head and insists Johnny is exaggerating.

You wonder what he sees in Simon. Alternatively, you wonder what *you’re* supposed to see in Simon. Besides his good looks, of course. He’s… bland. Obviously bored if his constant glances toward the exits and rhythmic, occasional tapping on the corner of the table are anything to go by.

“Want tae go dance, lovie?” You overhear Johnny as he leans in toward Cass.

She glances at you, then Simon, then back to you before nodding enthusiastically. “We’ll give you two some time *alone*.”

In any other situation, you’d probably beg her to stay in desperation for a conversation buffer. Here and now, though, you’re grateful. You can finally let this poor guy off the hook. You wait until they’re gone; fully out of earshot before turning to the man in front of you.

“I…uh… look…” You chew your lip, glancing between him and your folded hands on the table. “Sorry… I know I’m probably not what, uh, what you expected… I get it if you want to leave. It’s - you don’t have to stay, or whatever. Don’t have to be polite…”

He cocks an eyebrow, eyes boring through your skull. “Why would I want to leave?”

“I know what I look like. You don’t have to be nice.”

His raised brow turns into a slight frown. “I think you’re quite pretty.”

You scoff - blushing despite yourself. “Again, you don’t have to be nice.”

“Do I seem like the type to just be nice?”

You continue to gnaw at your lip. He’s got you there. Simon definietly doesn’t come off as the type to bow to polite society. “You’ve barely talked to me.”

He stares for a moment. It’s his turn to avert his eyes, swirling around the whiskey in his glass awkwardly. Almost bashfully. “It’s not you. I’m… not great in public… especially in crowds…”

Oh.

*Oh*.

You’ve completely misjudged him, haven’t you? Shit. He’s just a big awkward lug isn’t he?You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Oh God, *I’m* the asshole, aren’t I?”

He chuckles, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I’m sorry it’s just…” you scrub a hand over your face. “Most men don’t really want to be surprised with a fat girl on a blind date. Guess I assumed the worst.”

Simon hums. A low vibration that settles into your bones. He gets up, sliding into the booth side of the table beside you - his massive frame pushing into your space. He smells like spices. Cinnamon and pepper. A little hint of leather and tobacco underneath. It’s heady, and some primal part of your mind wishes you could roll around in it like a dog.

“Some men might like a waifish little thing, that’s their business, but personally…” He leans in, a large hand resting on your wide thigh. “Yeah. I like somethin’ I can get a proper handful of.”

“*Oh*.” You squeak, back stiff. Was that what you saw in Johnny’s face before? Approval?

“‘Ere’s a thought - we go back to mine. S’quiet. Can talk more freely. See where the night goes, hm?”

You smile hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze. It’s honest. Kind. Dark pools of sincerity. It’s against your better judgement. Impractical. Out of character. Even so, you allow yourself to surrender with a warmth in your cheeks and a small nod.

“I’ll get an Uber.” He pulls out his phone, tapping away. “Five minutes out.”

“Want to wait outside?” You offer, nodding toward the front entrance. Simon just nods, following you out close behind. Neither of you say much of anything while you wait, but you watch him out of the corner of your eye. He taps on his leg a few times in much the same way as he did on the table.

He dutifully opens the car door for you, letting you slide in before climbing in beside you, long legs slightly cramped in the small sedan.

“You don’t live on base?” You ask as the Uber drives away from the infamous military housing. You’d been there once or twice - a while ago when you were younger and messier.

“S’too loud.” He shrugs. “Too crowded.”

“Well, at least you’re consistent.” You smile.

Simon hums, resting his hand on your thigh once again. It’s casual, not too high up or too much pressure. Not presumptuous.

“How’d Johnny get you out there in the first place? If you’re so *averse*.” You tilt your head.

He shrugs, “Was supposed to be another Sergeant we work with but I guess he cancelled. No one else was free.”

“Ah, so we’re both last choices, then.”

“Yeah?”

“Made Cass promise me free drinks if I came.”

“Smart girl.” He chuckles, holding out a hand to help you up out of the car upon your arrival. His hand is warm when you take it, and a small part of you feels disappointed when he lets go.

The building is small. Old. All red brick with a thirty year old intercom and an elevator that you’re pretty sure hasn’t been inspected since the place was built. About halfway down the hall, you start to second guess yourself. You don’t know a thing about this guy - you don’t know what’s going to happen as soon as you get on the other side of his door. His weird, bright red door. Wait - why is this whole floor covered in red doors?

“Alright?” He grunts, back turned to you as he wrestles with the lock.

“Uh - why is your floor color themed?”

Simon laughs, wide shoulders shaking with the movement. It’s a low sound, something that vibrates in his chest. Makes you want to press your ear to it, see how it feels. If it will reverberate into your bones as well. “The old lady that owns the building is a bit… unique. Likes to talk about colors and karma and destiny stuff.”

“Ah.” You nod, as if that makes any sense at all. “So you’re red?”

“Apparently.”

His apartment is actually quite homey, as you step into it. From a stiff military man like him you expected something akin to an ikea floor model. Instead it’s furnished with a well worn, green couch. A large TV with an extremely up-to date surround sound system and an entertainment center filled to the brim with CDs sits against the wall. A few movie posters fill the walls. All horror classics - you count three of the scream movies. The first two final destination. There are condensation rings on the coffee table.

Behind you, you hear the door lock and unlock three times, but you don’t pay it much mind.

“Want a drink?” Simon asks, already popping open a decanter full of something gold on a small drink cart beside the kitchen island.

“Sure.” The agreement is automatic - blurted out before you can second guess taking a drink from a total stranger.

You watch a little too closely as he takes off his light jacket, exposing his strong arms and a half sleeve tattoo. It’s a bit tacky, all skulls and military symbols. The black ink has been sun worn over time. The motif of a young getting his first tattoo after enlisting. He settles down on the couch with the decanter and two glasses, patting the spot beside him. You plop down. It’s pretty comfortable, honestly.

His fingers loop into the mask’s straps. You find yourself watching with wide eyes and bated breath as he removes it. His nose is crooked - broken more than a couple times, you think. There’s a scar running from his nose to upper lip that could only come from a cleft palette. It’s charming, in a way. When he turns toward you, you notice a patch on the side of his face that looks like a rather large burn all the way down to his sharp jaw. The roughness of him works, somehow. The scars and tattoos and choppy hair all coming together to create the visage of a life hard lived.

“You’re really pretty…” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them.

Simon splutters out a laugh, the slightest hint of color appearing across his cheeks. “Didn’t take you for a flatterer.”

“I’m not.” You huff before nodding toward the posters. “Horror fan?”

He hums, passing you a glass. “Are you a fan? Of horror, I mean.”

“Found footage!” You grin a little too excited. “It’s the best genre.”

“Terrible taste.” He scoffs.

“Wrong! Found footage can be anything you want it to be - slasher, thriller, mystery, mocumentary. Anything.”

“Which makes them messy.” He argues. “Anyone can make one.”

“Yeah! Theres so many hidden gems out there.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Oh, I’ll put you on them. We just need to get you a good one.”

“Askin’ me on a second date already, love?”

“Oh, fuck off.” You shove at his shoulder. He was right, it is so much easier to talk freely out of the bar. Away from everyone and everything. His posture is far more relaxed, laid back into the couch with his hips canted forward rather than stiff as a board.

“We could watch one now?” He offers. If you were more sober, you might have heard the twinge of pleading in his voice. As it stands you’ve already drained the glass he gave you and are perfectly buzzed enough to be ignorant to the subtler parts of communication.

How convenient.

“Okay.” You whisper.

After a bit of debating back and forth you settle on Hell House. After all, it’s been your tried and true method for getting anyone and everyone into the genre. You don’t notice it, at first, but you slowly begin to scoot closer to him as you fold your knees up on the couch. Eventually, tucking yourself under his arm sling across the back cushions. Between him and the drinks - which you’re pretty sure is a rather fancy bourbon - you feel what could only be described as snuggly. Limbs loose and pliant, smile easy and words flowing as you cheer and jeer at the characters together.

At some point, Simon’s dark eyes meet between yours. You lean in, so does he. Inch by inch until your lips meet. It’s tentative, at first. Testing the waters. His lips are soft and move expertly against yours. You part for him has his tongue darts across your lower lip.

It’s easier than it usually is for you. Easy to let him pull you over his lap. To rest your hands on his broad shoulders as you take each other in. Normally, you’re not a person for one night stands. A commitment kind of gal. You can’t exactly say no, though, when you have a beautiful man’s hands traveling over your body like it’s the only thing in the world worth paying attention to right now.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to grunt, “Bedroom?”

“*Yes*.” You gasp between kisses.

Suddenly those large hands grasp under your ass as you’re hauled up. You grapple to hold onto the back of his neck, keeping your weight forward.

“Simon!”

“Yes, love?” He asks as if he didn’t just life you like a sack of potatoes.

“A-aren't I heavy?” You question as he makes his way through the apartment, peppering kisses over your neck and jaw.

“No.” He replies bluntly. Like what you asked was stupid.

You’re placed on a bed with all the gentleness of a rare china plate- one hand cradling your upper back and the other tucked under your thighs. There isn’t any time to take in the room before Simon is kissing you again but you do count approximately five pillows and zero navy sheets.

That shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

Simon leans in close, nose ever so slightly bumping yours. “Before we keep going, I want to establish a rule. Red light means stop. At any time, for any reason.”

You can’t help but smile. “Okay.”

“Say it back, doll.”

“Red light means stop.” You reach up and cup his face. So handsome. So warm.

“Good girl.” He murmurs. “Let’s get these off, hm?” Simon pulls your clothes off deftly - dragging those rough palms over your skin as he moves and kneading at the plushness of your hips appreciatively.

You reach up to tug at his shirt. “S’not fair if I’m the only one naked.”

Simon chuckles and hastily sits back to yank the shirt over his head, giving a lovely show in the process. You think this what people mean when they talk about an Adonis. There’s a comfortable soft layer of his strong abdomen. Something you want to sink your teeth into. Your fingers trace each dip and curve of his muscles, the lovely shape of his pectorals, the raised scars littering his body. Floral shapes from bullets along with slashes and smaller jabs. A particularly nasty one runs down his side, coving his ribs. A burn, you think.

“You’re beautiful.” You murmur. Definitely out of your fucking league. You move to sit up, reaching for his waistband.

His hand pushes your shoulder back on the bed. “Let me take care of you tonight, bird.”

Your face warms. Simon kisses your cheek, continuing down to your chest and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Gently sucking and nipping at it while flicking the other with his hand. A shameful whimper escapes your throat.

Simon leans up to murmur in your ear, “What do you want, sweet girl?”

“Want you to fuck me…” You murmur, embarrassment making you want to close your legs. His solid hips block you.

“Oh, I will, but first I want those beautiful thighs wrapped around my head.” Simon continues to place kisses down your body, over your stomach, stopping right at your panty line and tracing along it with rough fingers. His arms circle your thighs and in one swift motion your hips teeter on the edge of the bed, Simon kneeling between them. His fingers hook in the waistband of your underwear.

“W-wait…” You sit up on your elbows.

He freezes, looking up at you.

“I, uh, I haven’t exactly *landscaped* in a while… wasn’t really planning-“

Simon huffs out a laugh. “I’m a grown man, love. You think a little bush is gonna scare me off?”

All thoughts related to anything within the proximity of embarrassment come to an instant halt as Simon’s lips wrap around your clit- sucking and nipping and lapping like a man starved. Like he’d die without it. A low groan rumbles through his throat.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, whimpers and moans interrupting any chance you may have at putting words together.

“Taste so fucking good, princess.” He mumbles against you. A shaky moan rattles through you as he pushes a thick finger in, working it gently. His other than grips your hip tightly, pinning you in place. The pet-name sends a shiver down your spine - leaving you rolling your hips and clenching on the finger inside you.

“Fuck, Si…” You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I can tell your close, baby.” Simon groans. “Cum for me. Come on, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking tongue.”

The bastard knows the power he has in that voice. He *has* to. That baritone gravel sinks in your veins and all you can do is whimper. Panting pathetically the closer you get. His fingers curl up and your back arches harshly as your climax washes over you. Your legs tremble as he works you through it; stopping just shy of pushing you too far.

“Hey!” You gasp indignantly as a jolt shoots up your spine as he settles a final, harsh suck on your clit.

Simon taps your hip, climbing back over you as you scoot up on the bed. He carelessly kicks off his pants as he goes, toeing them off before settling between your legs. Those dark eyes rake over you leisurely - taking in every inch. Every curve and dip and flaw categorically. He sucks in a breath and sighs. “Bloody ‘ell, look at you… so fuckin’ pretty.”

Your face heats and you look away. “Who’s the flatterer now?”

“Not me. Just bein’ honest.” He places a quick kiss to your soft jawline before reaching over to dig through his nightstand drawer. You don’t miss the gold foil of the condom wrapper.

You can’t stop yourself from licking your lips as he pulls off his boxer briefs. Simon is uncut, already ruddy and leaking and just begging for your mouth. Maybe next time, though. He’s already slipped on the condom, carefully hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his hip. The man has a laser-focus to him, you’ll give him that.

“Still want t’ keep goin’?” He mumbles, eyes locked on his cock as is drags between your folds.

“*Please*.” You whine pathetically. Simon’s chuckle turns into a gasp as he presses in. It’s achingly slow and you roll your hips in demand for more.

Simon lets out a low groan as his hips meet yours. The stretch is perfect - just enough to feel completely full without pushing you too far. As though your bodies were made to slot together just so. Your head falls back, chest heaving as you beg him to move, to fuck you, just *please* for the love of god-

“Needy little thing.” He gives you a sloppy smile before setting a brutal pace. You find yourself clawing at his back, clinging to him as your back arches and the most obscene sounds are systematically torn from your throat. The angle he has your hips placed causes his cock to bully that sensitive spot inside you - dragging over it with every thrust.

Simon leans toward, bracing himself on his forearms and pinning you under him as he fucks into you. “So fuckin’ good f’me. Knew you would be. So soft and sweet and goddamn *pretty*.”

“*Fuck, Simon*.” You gasp, nose bumping against his as your lips intertwine. Breaths and moans intermingle as you both chase that edge. There’s nothing else, in this moment, just you and Simon and the sounds only he has ever managed to pull from you.

Your orgasm hits you like a train. Out of nowhere and all at once, tensing every muscle into a trembling mess as you clamp down around his cock. Simon sinks his teeth into your neck as his own climax takes him, cradling you close and moaning out your name so muddled you almost miss it.

For a few moments, you stay frozen in place trying to catch your breath as you come down. Your limbs feel like jelly when you finally try to move, body limp and pliable. It almost feels like a loss as he pushes off of you, leaving you open and vulnerable to the cool night air while he ties off the condom.

“Be right back.” He murmurs, slowly climbing off you and heading for an attached bathroom off to the left.

You let your eyes slipped closed only to jump and shoot back open as a dap rag drags between your thighs. A little yelp escapes you as the rough material drags across your oversensitive clit. Simon chuckles at you, tossing the rag back somewhere in the bathroom before crawling into the bed beside you. It’s so easy to curl into his chest and let those strong arms encircle you.

“Have fun, love?” Simon murmurs into your hair.

You just hum happily, smiling against his hard chest.

“Good.”

It’s just as easy as the rest of it to fall asleep like that. To seek out the warmth of his body in your satiated haze and press into him, allowing the night and rhythmic beating of his heart to overtake you. You feel four small taps between your shoulder blades just before tipping over the edge into comfortable nothing.

You wake slowly to an empty bed. The light from the window above you streams in - bathing the room in a light golden tone. It’s cozy. The blankets seem to pull you in, keeping you snugly in place. Distantly, you hear the sound of pots and pans clinking.

Shockingly, you’re not hungover. Well, not much at least. There’s a slight twinge in your head and a not unpleasant soreness in your hips. You dig around, finding your clothes strewn across the room haphazardly. Your underwear are nowhere to be found and you eventually give up with a shrug. They weren’t one of your best pairs anyway.

When you come out of the bedroom, you pause. Simon stands in the kitchen, working on something over the stove wearing only a pair of sweatpants. They hang loosely around his hips, showing off the rises and dips of his strong muscles and well defined waist. This scene somehow feels too intimate despite your activities the night before.

“Perfect timing.” Simon turns, placing a plate down on the kitchen island. The omelette before you looks immaculate, all the way down to a light garnish on top.

Your eyes turn to saucers. “You…you made me breakfast?”

“Course.” He nods sharply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if *not* doing so would be some sort of affront. Either you’re still asleep and this is all a dream or you stumbled upon the perfect man through pure happenstance.

He turns the stove off and on and off twice before standing at the counter across from you while you sit on one of the stools at the island. It’s a comfortable silence as you both eat. Simon keeps glancing up at you as if waiting for your disapproval. Boyish, somehow, despite the size and breadth of him.

It’s perfect. The eggs practically melt in your mouth and the goat cheese and vegetables taste fresh. You can’t help but him happily as you eat.

By the time you’re done, you think you might be a little in love.

Maybe you should text Cass and thank her or something. Maybe a gift basket. “Oh. My phone’s dead.”

“Didn’t charge it before y’left last night?” Simon cocks an eyebrow, chewing on his last bite.

You snort. “It was last minute, remember?”

“What if I’d been some sort of psycho? What was your plan?” He grins as he takes your empty plate. If you were a more impulsive woman you may have gone so far as to lick the damn thing.

“Are you a psycho?”

“Not generally, no.”

“Well then, nothing to worry about.” You grin, watching a little too happily as he rinses down the dishes and loads the dishwasher.

Simon just scoffs at you.

You glance at the time above the stove, disappointment settling deep in your chest. “Shit. I should get going.”

“I’ll get you a cab.” Simon offers automatically, reaching for his phone.

You shift side to side, twiddling your thumbs. “Y’know… we never finished the movie…”

Simon cocks and eyebrow. From the pleased smirk on his face you can tell he knows what you’re implying. He still patiently waits for you to say it out loud.

“Would, uh, would you want to exchange numbers? Maybe… meet up… again…?” Your voice is more timid than you’d like. This fear of rejection is new. Being rejected is nothing new for you, so why does it suddenly feel so high stakes with this one guy you barely know?

You don’t miss the way his eyes light up ever so slightly at the question. “I’d love to.”