#It’s just not me who is seeing this right…
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homunculus-argument · 1 day ago
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Passed by a woman with one of those double-stroller things with a small baby in the top container and about ~2-year-old in the bottom one, and overheard her conversation with the toddler.
"Baby."
"Yes, we've got the baby right here."
"Baby :c"
"The baby is right here sweetie, above you in the carrier."
"Onni. :c"
"Baby Onni is right here. He's still with us sweetie."
"Baby. :c"
"Darling I can't put him down there with you. He's safe in his own seat."
"Baby. :C"
(Onni is a finnish male name, which means "luck", "fortune", and "happiness", in the sense of being perfectly content, wanting and needing nothing that one does not already have.)
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classyrbf · 2 days ago
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PART 2 OF PRISONER!GETO
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prisoner!geto who can’t stop thinking about late at night, getting so worked up and horny, the most horny he’s been in a while. He’s pulling his pants down, closing his eyes while he pictures the way your scrubs clung to your body and showed off your ass. He thanks god he doesn’t have a bunkie or else he’d be in a real awkward position. He purposely gets into another fight a week later, the wound on his lip opening back up. He’s smiling to himself as he gets walked to the infirmary knowing he’ll see you there.
“Not you again,” you sigh.
“Told you I’d see you soon, doctor.” He sits on the small bed, watching as you put on gloves and examine his busted lip. He can tell you’re avoiding eye contact with him, trying your hardest to ignore his stares and slight touches. “Have you thought about my offer yet?” He asks.
You gulp, blinking as you rub the ointment over his wound. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You play stupid, but you remember your last conversation so clearly. It makes you nervous. All he does is laugh.
“Come on. I’ll even beg.” He grabs your wrist, slowing pulling it down, a smug smirk on his handsome face. “You telling me you haven’t thought about it once since we last seen each other?” He whispers. He parts his legs, pulling you in between them. And god, you smell so good. So sweet. He could just eat you up right here.
You stand there, unable to form words because as much as you want to say no, you want to say yes. He makes your heart race and your pussy wet. What a sly bastard. With his stupid tattoos, muscles, hair and chiseled face. You hate how much effect he has on you.
“Listen,” he rubs a hand down your waist, “meet me in the supply closet by the showers during lunchtime if you’re really down.” He flashed a smile before standing to his feet and walking out the infirmary. “Bye, bye, doctor.”
Come lunchtime, you walked through the halls of the prison, mentally cursing at yourself. It’s just one time, one time. You bet he won’t even be there, that he’s just playing a stupid joke cause he’s bored with himself. And as you reach out to open the supply door, your heart beats against your ribcage, looking around to find the halls empty. You step in, seeing him leaning against the wall, the faint rays of light allowing you to make out some of his features. “Well, look who it is,” he chuckles. “Came here to help me out, doc?” He walks over to you, trapping you between him and the door.
“Shut up already and let’s get it over with.” You smash your lips on his, kissing him with such urgency and fervor. His large hands grab at your ass, squeezing and groping it as he pushes you against the wall, knocking a few things over. You both pull away, breathing heavily, lips swollen. “We gotta be quick,” you whisper, undoing his jumpsuit while he pulls down your pants.
“More eager than I am, huh?” He teases, earning an eye roll from you. “Come here.” He bends you over the small wooden table, snatching your panties off and getting a good feel of your ass. His dick jumps, pre cum already leaking from the swollen tip. He’s already so worked up, so ready to feel your wet and tight cunt. “Fuck,” he grunts, running his head over your sopping slit, nudging your clit slightly. “Already so fucking wet.”
He pushes his throbbing tip past your folds, a small gasp leaving your lips when you feel how thick he is. Inch by inch you feel the stretch, you mouth agape as you try and grow accustomed to his size. Geto’s entire body shivers, his fingers pressing into your skin so hard you’re sure he’d leave marks. “Ohhh shit,” he lets out a shaky breath. God, it’s been so fucking long since he’s had some good pussy and he can already tell he won’t last long. He finally bottoms out, feeling your walls clench around his length, sucking him in. “My god,” he laughs in your ear. “Lemme just enjoy this feeling—fuckkk—for a moment,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut.
He finally starts moving his hips, feeling his tip press against your cervix with each thrust. With each passing second, he gets faster, fucking your harder and rougher, your pussy has got him in a trance. “Pussy feels so fucking good,” he grips your hips, pulling you back towards him so you can meet his thrusts. One of his hands reach around your throat, gripping it just enough as he pulls you back against his broad chest. “Do you fuck all of your patients or am I just special?” He jokes.
“Mmmm…shut—ah—up!” You cry out, whimpering when he presses up against you, finding a new angle that makes your eyes roll back. “Just keep fucking me,”you say with a raspy breath.
“Doctors orders.” He can feel the way your pussy leaks, your juices dripping down his shaft and make his cock ache like never before. It almost hurts. He hold you tighter against him, the sound of skin on skin filling the small room. “You take it so well,” he breathes against your skin, pressing wet kisses to your neck. “So fucking well.” His thrusts grow sloppier, chasing his own orgasm. But in the distance, he hears the guards walking down the hall. “Shh, shh, shh.” His hand covers your mouth, his thrusts becoming slow and deep, letting you feel every inch of his cock, every vein, every pulse before hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you.
Your eyes squeeze shut, trying your hardest to keep quiet, the guard getting closer and closer. Their keys jingle with each step and their voices grow louder. “Atta girl. You feel how fucking deep I am…shiittt. Keep fucking squeezing me like that—yeah, yeah you’re gonna make me fucking cum.” His brows furrow as he bites down as his bottom lip in attempts to contain his moans, but his abs tense up and his entire body shakes before he’s filling you up, stuffing you with his sticky, hot cum. “No, no, don’t you dare move. Just like thattt, oh yes!” His eyes roll back, still cumming. His pushes his cum deeper inside of you, feeling it leak back out before he finally pulls out.
Geto truly wishes he could’ve had more time with you. His mouth drooling over the mere thought of how you taste, wanting to make you cum on his tongue, but for now he’ll have to settle for this. “You came inside me, asshole!” You pull your pants back up, turning to face him.
“Couldn’t let it go to waste.” He reaches out and stroke your cheek. “Right?”
“Whatever.” You swat his hand away. “Where are my underwear?” You look around the dimly lit room before realizing he was holding them.
“I’ll be keeping these for later,” he swung them in your face before stuffing them in his pocket.
“You’re such a pervert.” You narrowed your eyes at him.
“You have my cum running down your leg right now.” He places a finger under your chin, tilting it towards him as he leans down and kisses you slowly, his tongue sliding over yours before catching your bottom lip. “Mmm, thank you, doctor.” He smiles before kissing you once more.
You push him off of you, trying to process everything you just did right now. It was so wrong but it felt so right, so good, so intoxicating. “If it makes you feel any better, I get out in six months.”
“No. This was a one time thing.” You place a hand on his chest, shaking your head.
“Was it? Cause I don’t think it was. Not with the way your pussy was squeezing around me. It was almost like she was made for me.” He cups your face, forcing you to look at him. His eyes searches yours, a smile forming at the corner of his lips. “Yeah…it definitely isn’t the last time.”
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screampied · 1 day ago
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☆ cw. fem! reader, switch choso, cunnīlingus, praise, messy eating, pussy-drunk choso, fīngering, spīt, mdni.
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choso who drools the second he sees your pussy for the first time.
spreading your legs apart into a deadly ‘v’ was nearly just enough to send him over the edge. no panties, just a dangerously slick drippin’ cunt right before his very eyes. “s- she’s so wet,” he’d gruff out, wide bronzed irises staring straight up close. a greedy thumb of choso’s slopes its way down your slobbering-coated slit that instantly soaks his fingerprint with sticky sap. you could hear choso thickly swallow as his middle finger greets itself, dragging a line down your slavering pussy. only about a tiny portion of his digits eased its way inside but you already felt each bottoming inside.
“f… fuuuck,” the lump in his throat tightens the moment you paw a hand near the top of his head. his usual ponytails were all ruffled and shaggy. tears of muggy sweat pour near the corners of his forehead before he deeply sighs. a low sigh, a sigh of hunger, a sigh of utter crave. once he spots your cheeky grin through glassy peripherals, choso can’t help but swirl his thumb around your clit - creating a shape of a heart with the pad of his plump digit. oh- your pussy already had him in love. “so pretty. ‘s like a flower, baby.”
“don’t be shy,” you’d whisper in an airy voice, almost choking from your own quickened breaths. as your tummy cowardly tucks inward from the gaping exhales you were holding in, you spread your puffy folds apart with two twinned fingers before humming. “give it a ‘lil kiss choso. it’s okay.”
“mhm,” he grumbles, inching his perfectly parted lips against your heat. choso could already feel his mouth watering once the smell aerated against both of his nostrils. he was salivating already, thirsting for just a single taste.
it was just the way you slowly spread your pretty lower lips wide, giving him a nice long-lasting show of your pulsating clit right before his very eyes. “you’re pretty but even prettier down here, god-,” he’d groan through gritted teeth. pressing his lips against your leaky entrance, strings of clear saliva glosses on his mouth and it’s oh-so sensuous.
it even makes choso moan the second he hears the wet ‘mwah’ stamp against your inner folds.
he’s heavily drooling now, and once you feel his two bare hands softly claw at each curving point of your hips - you see that feral look in his eyes.
“jus’ lie back baby,” and needy irises flicker back up toward you as he speaks. after getting a single lick - a mere kiss of your cunt, he’s hungry for more. “let me have a-” and he pauses, giving your cunt another sloppy kiss. “—taste . . pleeease.”
once he’s buried between your legs, there’s no prying him off.
choso’s blindly enamored by your rich flavor, especially allured by the strong aroma that makes his hips ferociously buck against the edge of the bed.
with a brief sniff, he then starts to smear the buttony tip of his nose up and down your sloppy cunt. you’re moaning with a hand still propped in his hair, twitching digits tangling through his overgrown jet-black locks. “f- fuck, suck on it choso. like that- mnhg- move your tongue there.”
“mmf- okay,” and his plump lips suffocate right against your tender peered nub. a tongue tickles its way against the spongy texture and he feels your thighs squeeze around him. it’s cute.
inky lashes flapped, tickling at your skin as you writhed from the swirling movements of letters ‘n shapes all created from his tongue.
frantically, it goes in various curious directions, and you could feel choso’s raspy breaths fan against your cunt. his puckered lips curve into an oval-like ‘o’ before he starts to french-kiss all over your sappy entrance.
it’s messy - then again so was he..
choso’s repetitive strained whimpers competed with each wet slosh after slosh that sobbed down from between your pudgy folds.
glittery colorless gloss coats his lips naturally and you watch as his thin brows twist into a needy furrow. “haven’t . . eaten all day, ‘s jus’ what i- hah, needed,” he starts to ramble, and you moan once the bridge of his scarred nose zigzags its way down your drooling slot.
the entire bridge gets coated with your slick - and he only wants more.
choso’s starting to thrust his hips against the edge of the bed faster, and it’s a loud grunt that creaks from the splitting aged wood.
he’s hips were maddened - his lengthy tongue that was runnin’ circles around your pulsating clit was enough to get him off.
and you did because you hear the sweetened “o- oh fuck,” scurry away from his lips the exact second he feels it.
his boner . . it happily introduces itself by prodding at the middle tent of his fleecy briefs. choso hisses with his teeth lovingly nipping at your pussy, slurping up his saliva that dribbles past the corners of his mouth.
it’s slickly sheeny - a perfect streaming coat that falls between the indenting cracks of his reddened lips.
as your fingers remain tangled through his matted strands, you start to move his head against your cunt - guiding him to eat you in a more nasty fashion.
with one hand, you’re making choso’s head rock between your legs as your tummy heaves inward once more. slowly, you even start to sensually sway your hips against his mouth.
glancing down with a heavy sigh escaping from your lungs, you spot choso. not just him but the pussy-drunk grin that’s lewdly stretching at each side of his lips. “mmmh. use my mouth- keep doin’ that baby, fuh- fuuuck,” and a bit of drool starts to rain down the middle part of his chiseled chin.
choso’s completely lost between your legs, and he steadily pulls out his lanky middle finger.
it was still snugly fit inside your cunt before with a soaking ‘pop!’ sound it sees its way out between your drenched slot. choso’s bottom lip quivers as he breaks away from your gluey thighs for just a brief second—bringing his slick-covered digit toward his lips before slurping your mess clean. he stares you dead in the eyes while he does so too, and not once does that cunt-drunk simper falter from his lips.
you’ve got him whipped.
although once choso’s parted lips attach back to your clit you end up letting off a cute squeal. it’s more of a defeated battle cry. a defeated battle whine. “a- ah!” you whimper, locking your legs around his neck. choso’s secured with the warmth of your thighs before muffling moans against your pussy.
you’re fully soaked now, ogling down openly at the lower part of his face that was entirely painted with your translucent honeyed slick. with muscles tightening and a coil finally snapping within you, you end up cumming - hard.
choso’s sloppily thrusting the pointed tip of his tongue in and out of your pussy before he notices. the taste that’s finally cascading on his famished buds. with glued-shut eyes, he slows his tongue work before groaning against your convulsing flesh.
“ ‘m cummin’ cho— fuuuck,” you’d whine out in an elongated four-second mewl. your mouth dramatically grows agape with your jaw hanging as he’s still lapping you clean.
the squelches only got louder - and choso’s still pathetically rolling his hips against the edge of the bed.
your pleasure got him off, and it’s not even seconds later before he gasps. a grey wet patch ends up dampening the center of his bulky boxers and he pouts. “s- shit,” he glances down in cute shame, letting off a groan once his hand swipes itself across his huge bulge.
it stuck out greatly against the thinly made fabric, and the thought of being inside of you was probably about to make him shoot blanks. choso’s droopy eyes focus back towards you and he looks down between your thighs.
a perfect, slick mess. his perfect, slick mess.
a fat thumb snakes its way down your sappy slit before he glances back up at you one more time. with an abrupt ‘pft!’ choso spits on your pussy, hearing a moan follow out from you seconds later. a string glimmer in the light once it runs past his lips, only for him to lap it up with a risqué kiss. “c- choso.” you’d huff out breathlessly, weak fingers releasing its grip from between his hair.
but right before you could get a second word in, you’re suddenly flipped over. you lightly land on your bare tummy and let off a sheepish giggle. feverish hot breath ghosts against your ass and you gasp once you feel choso’s rough hands grab your hips up.
he’s making you arch - face down, ass up and you could feel the cold, hungry stare zero down your spine.
“shhhh,” he’d grumble, and your left ass cheek was met with a smack. it makes you moan, and as you’re bent over, choso can’t help but enjoy the weeping, wet view that pours down your exposed cunt.
leaning up close, he lolls out his tongue alllll the way, slowly licking from top to bottom before making you press your head firmly into your pillow.
“ ‘m not…done, still fuckin’ hungry, baby. now be a good girl ‘n keep the arch while i eat, h- heh.”
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norrisainz33 · 3 days ago
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announcement || mv33
☆ summary: max and his private wife have been keeping a big secret
☆ pairing: max verstappen x private!nonfamous!wife!reader
☆ fc & warnings: amata alp & mentions of pregnancy
☆ requested: yes! thank you for your patience 🫶🏻
゚. ✿ ��❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
ynverstappen has posted to their story 🔒
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maxverstappen1: glad you’re with y/bff tho i do wish you were here my love
ynverstappen: i wish i was there too. i hate having to miss your races
maxverstappen1: i know you do sweetheart but you’ve got big things to worry about right now 🤍
ynverstappen: i know i just wish you were here to worry about them with me!
ynverstappen: ugh i’m sorry i know you have no choice in the matter
maxverstappen1: don’t apologize liefje. i know this is not like the easiest time for me to be away! i will be home so soon so i can help take care of you
carmenmundt: y/n where have you beeeeeeen it’s been so long!!
ynverstappen: been very busy with work and with holding down the fort here in monaco!! i hope to be back at some races soon 🤍
alexandrasaintmleux: gorgeous girl i miss you
ynverstappen: i miss you too babes
yourbff: my baby
ynverstappen: my girl
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f1gossip has made a post
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liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6, user7 and 11,849 others
f1gossip: during todays redline stream the chat was flooded with questions about the whereabouts of y/n verstappen who has been absent from the paddock for the past couple of months. while y/n is relatively private and we don’t usually get many social media updates from her outside of her interior design firm’s posting, she almost never misses the opportunity to support max on a race weekend let alone several in a row. max assured the chat that y/n was ok and that she was just taking some time to herself and that she’d be back in the paddock soon enough. what do you all make of this?
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user1: i’m so glad y/nmax are fine
user2: you could even hear her in the background at one point asking max what he wanted for dinner!! glad we are getting some crumbs
user4: omg ok good!! i thought that was her but couldn’t tell
user3: i was about to email her interior design firm to ask if she was ok thank god max updated us
user4: walk with me here guys…. what if we haven’t seen her bc she’s…… pregnant???
user6: oh my god you might be on to something!! they have been married for almost 2 years now
user7: no this is so believable!!! they’d make the best parents
user5: y/n’s ability to stay under the radar and unbothered is incredible
user8: y/n is the coolest wag i wish she was chronically online like so many of the others
user7: ugh fr!! i wish we could follow her on literally anything 💔
ynverstappen has posted to their story 🔒
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francisca.cgomes: are you redoing part of your house? is this why you’ve been so busy and i haven’t seen my best friend for WEEKS
ynverstappen: partially yes!! we are redoing the spare room. BUT you’ll see me this weekend for my party kiks
francisca.cgomes: and my god i can’t wait!! i miss you
ynvertsappen: i miss you too
landonorris: plans for what?
ynverstappen: idk 🤷🏻‍♀️
landonorris: liar!
maxverstappen1: they’re going to have the sweetest room 🤍
ynverstappen: yes they are 🤍 i’m so proud of how it’s turning out
georgerussell63: the 🤭 makes this feel like i’m on the outside of an inside joke
ynverstappen: you just might be georgie!!
georgerussell63: well what does that even mean
yourbff: i am brimming with excitement i can’t wait for you to tell everyone this weekend
ynverstappen: me too!! keeping this secret has been so tough but ultimately it’s been really nice to have something that’s just for me and max even if just for a short while
yourbff: no i totally get that y/n/n!! max has to share his life with the whole world so im sure it’s nice to have those private moments
yoursibling: i need you to facetime me when you tell carmen and kika bc they’re going to lose their minds
ynverstappen: oh i absolutely will
ynverstappen has made a post 🔒
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liked by carmenmundt, iamrebeccad, maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes, interiordesignbyyn and 201 others
ynverstappen: i’m so glad all my favorite people could come celebrate the news 🩷 baby verstappen due in january 🤍 mommy and daddy love you endlessly already 💙
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carmenmundt: i can’t wait to be an aunty!!! best news ever 🤍
ynverstappen: and i can’t wait for you to be an aunty!! baby v is going to be so loved
carmenmundt: they already are!!
francisca.cgomes: can’t believe my favorite person in the world is going to be a mom 🥹
ynverstappen: love you kika 🥹
maxverstappen1: 💙🩷
ynverstappen: 😘😘
iamrebeccad: you’re going to make the perfect mom
ynverstappen: i really hope so 🤍
georgerussell63: blimey! i can’t wait to meet the little one!!
ynverstappen: only 3 more months!!
landonorris: uncle lando is reporting for duty
ynverstappen: baby v is going to love their uncle lan!!
maxverstappen1: baby v is already lucky to have you mate
alexandrasaintmleux: the most beautiful maman 🤍
ynverstappen: don’t make me cry again 😭
maxverstappen1 has made a post
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maxverstappen1: grateful for moments like these away from the track. next week is race week again in vegas but for now, enjoy some family photos 🤍
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user1: my favorite couple maybe ever
user3: y/n sign of life!!
user4: sticking to my delulu and thinking he said family bc she’s having a baby
landonorris: see you all soon🤍
ynverstappen: see you soon lannyyyyyy
user4: he’s feeding into my delusions here…. bc why did he say you all instead of you both
user6: omg does this mean y/n will be in vegas????
ynverstappen: i love our little family 🫶🏻
maxverstappen1: me too gorgeous
user2: not me crying over this post?? the heart shaped pizzas sent me over the edge
redbullracing: looking forward to seeing you back on track!
ynverstappen has added to their story 🔒
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maxverstappen1: i have a tracker on your flight. i think the anxiety of you and the little one being on a plane without me is going to eat me alive
ynverstappen: we will be ok maxie i promise!! im on air max, it’s safe here
maxverstappen1: it is but also i’m not there so it’s not as safe as it could be
ynverstappen: my sweet boy, take a deep breath. you have quali soon
maxverstappen1: yes yes yes i’m breathing deeply
francisca.cgomes: well thank GOD i need you in the paddock
ynverstappen: pls come stay in rb hospitality w me
francisca.cgomes: for you i will just don’t tell pierre
charlesleclerc: on a scale of 1-10 how stressed is max
ynverstappen: 16
redbullracing: we can’t wait to see you!!
iamrebeccad: yayayayayayya!!!!!!!
ynverstappen: 😘😘😘😘😘😘
maxverstappen1 has made a post
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maxverstappen1: for all of you wondering where y/n has been…. needless to say we’ve both been a little busy getting ready to welcome baby verstappen. only a few more months till the little one makes us a family of 3 🤍
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user1: best news ever!!!!
user4: i knew it!!! omg 🥹
charlesleclerc: congratulations mate! i am so excited for you both
maxverstappen1: thank you charles 💙 baby v is so lucky to have an uncle like you
user16: im violently sobbing over this interaction you don’t understand
redbullracing: having a mini rb20 made for baby v as we speak
ynverstappen: oh gosh admin no
maxverstappen1: admin yes!!
redbullracing: uh oh awkward
landonorris: yayyyyyy!!!!!!!! i can’t wait to babysit!!
ynverstappen: you’re going to be the best babysitter ever
user7: she is glowing
user9: max and y/n are going to make the most beautiful parents
f1gossip has made a post
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f1gossip: here to share a recap of max’s first interview since announcing y/n’s pregnancy mere minutes after qualifying. he said he wanted to announce it before sunday because y/n was absolutely adamant about being in the paddock for vegas and there was no hiding her baby bump at 6 months. max said “i can’t wait to be a dad! it’s honestly something i’ve been dreaming of for years and i’m so grateful to my beautiful wife for giving me the greatest gift.”
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user2: this is by far the happiest i’ve ever seen max and i am crying
user4: i love max and y/n so much i cant
user15: the way he talked about their baby ??? he already loves that little one so much
user18: i think having a baby is healing his inner child
user3: i love love love love love these 2
user19: crying screaming throwing up
user20: project verstappen!! lfg!!! next wdc champion incoming
user5: her refusing to miss another race is so real of her
user8: thank god she’s gonna be back in the paddock max needs her luck
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs always appreciated 🤍
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction
© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform
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ravenkings · 2 days ago
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Bernie is wrong. He has always been wrong and is still wrong. The flaw in his theory is what he deems the “wealthy elite” versus what everyday Americans consider them to be. Voters don’t see all billionaires as the elites. They see college-educated liberals on the coasts, some of whom are billionaires, as elites.
Bernie-style populism didn’t land because billionaires figured out long ago they could undermine it by being socially right-wing, and the working class would forgive their wealth and privilege. That’s why this same demographic is willing to make it rain for grifters like Joel Osteen and Pat Robertson. That’s why they worship the wealthiest man on the planet like a God and consider him some real-life Tony Stark. People dismissed Donald Trump as a shameless attention-hungry New York oligarch until he called Mexicans rapists. Then he shot up to the top of the GOP primary polls. The working class didn’t think much of Elon Musk until he said “pronouns suck.” Then he became their hero. A scion of working-class Pennsylvania lost his US Senate seat last week to a hedge fund manager from Connecticut. West Virginia elected their richest man to the Senate after electing him governor – as a Democrat and later a Republican. Ohio tossed out their longtime Democratic senator, known for his strong support of labor rights, for – literally, no joke – a used-car salesman.
You can’t tell me the working class in America thinks being a billionaire alone is what makes one a “wealthy elite.” There are significant factors at play here Bernie is either oblivious to or purposely ignorant of.
In college, a professor once told me that Communism never succeeded in the United States because we are too religious and proud as a country. Religion, traditions, and culture were never widely discredited the way they were in Europe and Asia, where the clergy and nobility kept the bourgeoisie in figurative chains for centuries. The relative ease of social mobility made America unique compared to its Western counterparts. Historically, American progressivism has been focused on expanding social mobility – initially limited to only white men – to identity groups who had been denied it at the start: blacks, women, and immigrants. We have done it, with various amounts of success. While it may seem counterintuitive, Americans pride themselves in being the nation that pioneered the idea that wealth and status can be achieved through ingenuity and hard work and not just based on a lucky roll of the genetic dice, as it was in the Old World. It doesn’t mean we don’t have generational wealth in our country; we do, but since it isn’t the sole way to achieve wealth and power, we don’t care nearly as much about destroying all of it. Further, we will happily endorse it if the oligarchs and the aristocrats vow to promote and protect the social values we care about and the social hierarchy that benefits us.
It’s one of the reasons I believe Bernie could never beat Trump. If you ask working-class people what they want: an anti-immigrant, anti-intellectual billionaire or a Vermont socialist backed by kids from Harvard and UC Berkeley who hate our traditions and customs, the working class will always back the billionaire.
–Nick Rafter, "Bernie Sanders Can Take a Seat"
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gutsby · 22 hours ago
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Bigger in Texas
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Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader
Summary: Joel won’t fit.
Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Size kink (seriously, don’t read if you hate big dicks / disgusting descriptions) Penis and pussy pronouns. Virginity loss. Age gap. Praise kink. Daddy kink. Joel ‘hung like a fucking horse’ Miller is a soft dom and also a good teacher. Competence kink (?)
Note: Somebody made a fic challenge to use penis pronouns, and I can’t for the life of me remember who it was. If y’all find them please show them this and tell them I love their brain 🫠
Word count: 2.3k
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This wasn’t the life Joel Miller had pictured for himself.
The dead coming back to roam the world and eradicate most of its population, for one. The cold. Finding his baby brother way out here in Wyoming with a wife and a child on the way. The looks he was getting these days. It’s not like he’d asked to get mixed up with a girl your age. It just happened. And since damn near every-fucking-thing that had “happened” to him since outbreak day fifteen years back had been bottom of the barrel, full-blown nightmare territory, the second he saw a good thing fumble across his path, he’d seized it—you.
You, who were young enough to be his daughter.
You, who’d never seen a man fully before meeting him.
You, who hadn’t squeezed so much as a finger in herself.
But much like his past, Joel Miller was a sordid and sick kind of man, and he had the cock to prove it: presently weeping precum at the site of your softest, tightest hole, smearing the pearly-white slick through your folds with a sound so sweet it was nauseating. Begging for entrance.
“Oughta have a boy your age pop your cherry, kid.”
It was simple.
“Ain’t right havin’ a man my age all in your guts.”
And true.
The head of his cock made another wet, sickening noise through your folds, and as though instigated by the sound, your eyes flitted to the source. You smiled.
“Probably. But I want you,” you answered. Soft.
Joel got harder, and he hadn’t thought that was possible. His gaze joined yours, and the sight nearly finished him.
Beneath him, your legs had spread wider, showcasing that perfectly glistening seam alongside the head of his cock. He looked huge. Or you looked small. Or perhaps it was both, and he was old, and he really shouldn’t be doing this at all, but then his hips stuttered a bit and his length pushed in. Joel hissed and seized the headboard.
It wouldn’t even go in. The tip just stretched the rim.
“Baby, fuck—” Joel whimpered.
“He’s so big.”
Three little words from your lips, and it almost did him in.
Again.
You wriggled your hips and flashed another happy grin.
“He wants in, daddy. I can feel him pulsin’ like I am.”
You volleyed a look up to Joel as if to say, ‘So that means we’re ready, right? Will you let me have him?’
And, strangled by guilt as he was, Joel couldn’t resist.
He let his big, bulbous, leaking head sink in the tiniest bit, and he let out a groan. Your walls were so tight. This was him, too—his tip was oversized, just like the rest of him—and when it notched in an inch, Joel could see the pain flash quick in your eyes. His hips moved to retreat.
But then your heels were lifting and digging in his ass, and though strained, your voice made it out, weakly:
“Don’t, daddy. I want him.”
Joel couldn’t dream of refusing.
And his vision blurred more at that word, him.
“I-I know. He wants you too, baby—”
Another quarter-inch.
“—so, so bad.”
“Daddy!”
Joel had to blink to try and wake from his daze. His tip was so warm, hugged so perfect and snug and wet, that he didn’t even realize that was all that fit. He was stuck.
You whimpered again.
“‘S’too big, daddy. Just make him go in.”
Your eyes rolled with indignation and overwhelming pleasure alike, and your hips squirmed again. This time, you tried to nudge him in deeper, but your body simply wouldn’t budge; you’d reached the widest part of him.
“Honey, it’s—”
“Hurtin’! I need you inside me.” you cried, impatient.
“Just takes a little time to get there, darlin’—”
“Well, get to it, then. A tip ain’t enough.”
Joel’s face flushed. He might’ve been forced to bite back a laugh under any other circumstances, but this was your virginity. His bed. Your naked bodies, together, tonight.
He wasn’t about to rush it now and fuck everything up.
“This tip’s about to paint your pretty insides white and make you wait til next week to try again if you keep it up.”
That made you go still.
You shook your head while Joel released the headboard from his grip and took your hip in it instead. He grunted.
“Sweet pea, you gotta see—” he resumed, voice low, “—it won’t feel good for you or me if I just…push right in.”
You sighed, feeling his hold tighten.
“Tongue and fingers only do so much. You gotta learn.”
You whined, digging your feet in deeper when his tip drew back to your entrance. Looking a bit squeamish.
“Be brave…and patient for me.”
From the look in your eyes, Joel could tell you probably hated him right now. That was just fine. He adjusted his hips to a more comfortable place, and then he pinched your hip bone. He nudged you back, and he let you wait.
Then, right when you opened your mouth, he sank in.
Joel thrusted with only his tip, the size of a small lime, and he fucked your hole gently. Back and forth. Shallow.
It did enough. You squeezed both his forearms.
“Oh, daddy.” Your bottom lip trembled as you said it.
With his free hand, Joel smoothed your hair back.
“Yeah, what is it, baby?” he murmured, dulcet as ever, “Thought you said the tip ain’t enough for you, sugar.”
His words came slow. His strokes were delivered quick, though tenderly. Your brain appeared to be in a fog, or a trance, as your chin dipped down toward your chest, and you watched him breach the first inch of you repeatedly.
“Curious little thing.” Joel couldn’t fight the chuckle now.
“He’s so…” you trailed off.
You squeezed his arms, and he squeezed your hip back. He let you watch him fuck you with only his tip, and when your head began to tilt back from the strain, he reached up with his other hand and held the back of your neck. He felt you clench at that, and you both groaned.
“So…big,” you finished, eyes glazed.
“I know.”
This went on for the longest time: Joel stretching the first precious inch of your pussy with the head of himself, you watching and breathing deeply, whimpering occasionally, and him holding at the nape of your neck like a softer touch might lose you to him forever. Was this teaching? When you clenched again, he reckoned it was.
“That’s it, honey. Watch her swallow me.”
“Stretches real pretty for the tip, doesn’t she?”
“Bet she can’t even fit another inch of this cock.”
Suddenly, your head was jerking up under his hold.
Eyes flaring with a hot, juvenile kind of anger: “I can!”
Joel clicked his tongue against the backs of his teeth and pretended not to hear. He also had to feign indifference when your walls tightened and all but choked his head and a wave of new pleasure surged up through his body.
“She can, Joel, I’m serious!”
Another two seconds of this and Joel sensed he might see tears. Though his gaze had trailed up to yours, and the look in his appeared stern, deep down, he was just as quick to want to cave. He just hid it better than you did.
“You think so, sweet pea?”
“I know so. I need it.”
“Need him?”
“Y-Yes.”
How sweet you seemed. How naive you must be.
Joel might’ve been mean, but he wasn’t cruel. He also liked teaching lessons as much as he enjoyed showing you the way, so in the next second, he obliged. He took the last shallow thrust of his tip and sank into your cunt.
As he filled you, you whined. It only took an inch or two.
“Da-a-ddy. Please.”
You must’ve been begging for lenience. Joel retreated.
Then, much to the man’s surprise, you kicked your feet. Not in relief but in protest, shaking your head up at him:
“Put him back. Please. D-Deeper.”
It was as though Joel’s brain had exited through the back of his head and all rational thought escaped him, for the moment. The only voice he heard was yours. It was pleading. And in between your legs, you were soaked.
So drenched to allow him another inch. Then another. Then another. Joel fucked in gently and felt a seismic wave of pleasure seize his limbs—and likely yours, as well. It was as though in two blinks, you’d forgotten the pain altogether. You were suffused with need instead, eyes wincing and lips curling and sounds leaving your throat like an animal in heat. Want him deeper, please.
Joel sawed back and forth with just those five or so inches and made you writhe underneath him. Felt you clamp down on his thick, slippery cock and heard the remnants of your shared arousal making sounds as your body accepted him. Stretching wider. Getting wetter. Bringing him closer to the edge with every breath.
“She’s doin’…so good f’me,” Joel told you, brainless.
His thumb drifted to your clit. He rubbed it gently. No sooner had he finished the first circle around that nub when your hips were stirring again—this time incensed.
“Daddy.”
“I know, baby. I know.”
Joel kissed the top of your head, thumb insistent. When his eyes met yours, he was surprised to find them wet this time. Tears pooling and streaking down to your temples while your body bounced gently beneath his thrusts. A whimper trembled out, and Joel slowed.
He could tell from that look you didn’t want him to stop, though. It just felt so good. So, instead of dropping his pace too much, Joel cupped your chin in one hand, and with the other, he kept thumbing at your clit. Humming.
“Poor thing’s never had something this big in ‘er, huh?”
You shook your head. Cried a little more.
Joel kissed the tears on one side, lips smiling as he did.
“I can tell, baby. But she’s taking it so well.”
“Y-Yeah?”
His hips sped up a little. The thrusts were still shallower than they normally would be, given your state, but they seemed to be working well enough. You winced again.
Joel kissed the other side of your face to take more tears.
“Uh-huh,” he answered, “Openin’ up real nice for daddy.”
It was like his words worked as well as his thumb on your clit. You whimpered again, lips parting a little wider now, and the sound that came out was as desperate and feverish and fuck-drunk as Joel had ever heard it.
“S-Say it again,” you pleaded.
“Say what?”
“That he’s…stretchin’ me open. Makin’ me his.”
The soft, slick resonance between your body and his seemed to amplify even more—you were getting wetter, and Joel’s thrusts all but shook the bed with their force.
His eyes darkened when he felt you tighten again.
“Yeah? You like hearin’ all the filthy fuckin’ things your daddy’s doing? The way he’s breakin’ you in for him?”
You nodded. Your throat constricted with a moan.
And, just when a fresh set of tears seemed to be close on the horizon, Joel lowered himself to you. He held you to his chest, hips working relentlessly, and he watched your face screw up in pleasure. A trace of pain surfaced again, but it was soothed with a kiss. Joel grinned against you.
Between your thighs, his cock was throbbing with a feeling just as big. He knew he couldn’t keep this up much longer. Hurting and aching and needing as you were, he had to make sure that you would cum first.
When his cock grazed a fleshy, sensitive patch inside your walls, he knew it wouldn’t take much. He went on:
“C’mon, sugar. Daddy’s split you open on his cock so nice, least you can do is cum for him. Can you do that?”
His nose brushed yours. His thrusts sped up. You nodded, quickly, and when he shifted in the bed with his thumb still on your clit and his lips and his stubble grazing your mouth with every push of himself, he felt it.
It was a small pulse, at first.
Joel thought you might be adjusting—clenching—again, when the lips that were trembling against his own parted more. Your arms wound around his neck, and suddenly the throb of your walls around his member got tighter and tighter and tighter. One more second and your cunt might’ve squeezed the hot, sticky seed right out of his body and flooded your insides with it, but then came release. The ‘o’ of your mouth let out a shriek, at last, and your body went soft around him, beneath him, whining in turn, ‘Daddy, daddy, please’ while the muscles once taut and unflinching gave him reprieve. Fluttering repeatedly.
Joel fucked you through it. He talked you through it.
He stroked your hair, and he held you tight. Called you his sweetheart, pretty thing, perfect girl, you’re doin’ so good f’me. Keep going. That’s right, cum all over daddy. He told you to take what you needed, and without another word, he felt just that. Your cunt spasmed around him, and you consumed every inch he gave and drank every drop of spend shooting out in thick spurts.
You fell boneless on the bed when all was said and done.
You looked happy, and that made Joel even happier.
He stroked your cheek, and you leaned into it, clearly drained while your gaze held his in a weak sort of look.
It was soft. Loving, even. It could’ve been romantic.
Then Joel’s hand slipped down to the nape of your neck again. Your muscles were limp, like all the rest of you, but somehow, he was able to hold you up. Tilt your chin a bit.
Make you peer down between your shaking legs, where his cock was still sheathed inside you—partly, anyway.
Your eyes widened. Joel grinned.
“You did great, baby. Ready for the other half of him?”
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can y’all believe this image is what inspired this fic HA
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it’s only Thursday i’m sorry 😔
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pathologicalreid · 3 days ago
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a long way to go | s.r.
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in which your family breaks no contact and Spencer reminds you that you're doing the right thing
margovember
kindergarten teacher!reader masterlist
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: flangst? (hurt/comfort) content warning: nondescript childhood trauma, kindergarten teacher!reader word count: 1.4k a/n: okay so the request was for angst and it is but the comfort gives fluff. at this point my genres are arbitrary. huge shout out to anyone else who isn't going home for thanksgiving for one reason or another.
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Frowning at the email on your computer, you shifted your weight on your rotating chair and leaned your head back into the chair cover that Garcia had crocheted for you.
We’d love for you to join us.
It felt as though someone had tossed a bucket of ice water over your head, years and years of blocking emails and leaving your phone number unlisted had culminated in this moment. It shouldn’t surprise you; you worked at a public school and your email was listed in the faculty directory, but the sight of your father’s name left a sour taste in your mouth.
You were alone in your classroom, the fluorescent lights were turned off, leaving you in the gentle illumination of the string lights that you kept threaded along the walls. Contract hours were over, but you still had papers that needed to be completed. Opening your email after the final bell had thrown a wrench in your plans.
A knock on your door pulled you out of your haze, you looked up to see Spencer standing in the doorway. You checked the time in the corner of your monitor to find that it was nearly six, well into the evening, and you hadn’t even noticed. “Did we have plans?” You asked, alarm rising in your tone, you looked down at your day planner and didn’t see anything, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t miss something.
“No,” Spencer said immediately, wanting to quell any of your anxieties before they had the chance to develop. “I hadn’t heard from you today, so I might’ve asked Garcia if she had your location on your phone and found that you were at work much later than usual,” he told you, setting his messenger bag on one of your student’s desks before leaning against yours.
You leaned over your desk, setting your chin in your hands and sighing. “You found me,” you mumbled unenthusiastically, eyeing your monitor again.
He’d cut his hair again, in a moment of frustration he’d started snipping, but he ended up calling you for help. It no longer feathered the tops of his eyebrows. “What’s wrong?” Spencer asked, tilting his head to the side and tapping the bobblehead you kept on your desk.
Taking a deep breath, you shook your head, “Nothing, I just have a lot of work to do.” You were designing a holiday coloring page, making the outlines yourself because you didn’t like any of the ones you found on the internet.
“Okay,” Spencer responded, extending his vowels. “Now you’re lying to me,” he said. It wasn’t an accusation; he was merely stating the truth.
It bothered you that he was right, and it bothered you that you lied to him. You shouldn’t feel the need to lie to him because, really, if anyone was going to understand how you felt about the email, it was Spencer. You wedged your hands beneath your thighs, keeping yourself from digging your nails into your palms, “My father sent me an email.”
Dad felt too casual, and his first name felt too detached. He was just your father, someone who had been chosen time and time again over you, and whom you hadn’t spoken to in nearly six years. “When’s the last time you saw him?”
“Five years ago,” you answered distantly, remembering how he’d had the nerve to show up at your college graduation even though the rest of your family knew you weren’t in contact with him. Wetting your lips, you looked back at the email on your screen, “He wants me to spend Thanksgiving with him and his family.” People that you shared no connection to—blood or otherwise—and made up the family that had taken your place in his life.
Spencer straightened up a stack of papers on your desk, the shuffling sound so familiar that it put you at ease, “What do you want to do?”
You pinched your eyebrows together, not used to someone asking for your wants, “I want to reply to him, but I know that engaging with him would be equivalent to opening the floodgates.” Releasing a dam of trauma that wasn’t suited for your kindergarten classroom, “I can’t reply to this email.”
Nodding softly, Spencer studied your eyes with a pained look in his eyes, “I know, honey.”
Taking the computer mouse in your trembling hand, you scrolled over the email and blocked the sender before deleting the email and deleting it from the trash for good measure. Hot tears welled in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around yourself, “I hate him.”
You despised him. A man who you shared blood with just so happened to be someone you hated with bone in your body. Bones he had contributed to that you wished you could pull from your body and replace with an untainted set. What was worse was that he had the ability to influence your emotions like this, he could make you angry with nothing more than digital mail.
Anger felt so useless, it was something he used as armor, and you feared that by being angry, you were becoming like him. You were so horrified by the mere idea of your own anger that it made you cry, and you were terrified of your life becoming one big circle.
They say if you grow up with an angry man in your house, then there will always be an angry man in your house. All you needed was to believe in Spencer’s ability to be gentle, but nothing Spencer did would change the fact that you cried as soon as you were pricked with rage.
Spencer crouched in front of you, taking both of your hands in his larger ones and keeping them warm for you. “You don’t owe them anything,” he told you, watching you carefully with his big brown eyes, “It hurts. I know it hurts right now, but you know that you just did the right thing. I’ll remind you of it for as long as it takes for you to believe it.”
The dam broke then, tears fall from your chin to your lap as Spencer gathered you in his arms to the best of his ability, you tried not to flinch away from his embrace. You reminded yourself that he wasn’t there to hurt you, he was there to help you. He ran his palm flat along your spine as you gave in, burying your face in the crook of his neck and basking in the darkness of your own sorrow.
“You did the right thing,” he muttered softly, pulling away and using the pads of his thumbs to wipe away your tears. “You don’t need to apologize to anyone about it,” he said preemptively, knowing you were about to apologize to him for your show of emotion.
You nodded dazedly, leaning your cheek into his palm as he cupped your face with his hands, “I don’t know what I do now.”
Spencer smiled gently at you, “We’re gonna keep moving forward. Are you hungry? Do you want to get dinner?”
Sighing, you shrugged despondently, looking back at your now blank monitor, “I should get some stuff done.” You wiggled the mouse and typed in your password, you stared blankly at your unfinished coloring page, any and all motivation to finish the drawing had vacated as soon as your father made contact.
“What if,” Spencer started, “You come home with me tonight, and tomorrow I’ll come in with you? You can finish up your work and I’ll get to spend some time with you.” Spencer Reid might just be the only person willing to accompany you to work on a Saturday just because you’re having a hard time.
You bowed your head, “You don’t have to do this, Spence.”
He hummed in response, “I want to, and besides—we have plans to make.”
You frowned, your head lifting so you could look him in the face and inquire for more details, “Plans for what?”
“Thanksgiving,” he responded as if it should’ve been obvious, “You’ll get to join BAUsgiving this year, it’s one of Garcia’s favorite holidays.”
Faltering, your eyes widened at his insistence, and you took a deep breath, “I’m not… I don’t want to intrude on your family time.”
Spencer raised his eyebrows incredulously, “Honey, you’re part of that family now. Besides, sometimes I think the team likes you more than me.”
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gloomwitchwrites · 2 days ago
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Hey 😊👋 I love your Task Force 141 Imagines and finally had the courage to request one myself:
How would they react to the trend where their partner makes dinner but gives them the bigger portion and gives themselves only a small one with the excuse that "That's all we had left" ?
(I hope you understand what I mean)
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I'm about 99.9% sure you're talking about the viral TikTok trend. That's what I interpreted the ask as (which is how I wrote it). Most of the time, those videos are pretty wholesome. Sometimes they aren't. But with regards to 141, they're gonna be wholesome about it. No body shaming. Not dismissive. Just walking green flags who are also done with your shit (because pranking them is just hilarious). Anyway! Enjoy!!!
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, pranks & practical jokes, humor, fluff, married couple, mild suggestive themes
Word Count: 1k
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John Price
"Love, what is that?"
"That's all we had left."
"That's all we had left?" repeats John.
You shrug nonchalantly. There's plenty of food, enough for each of you and leftovers for tomorrow, but John doesn't need to know that...yet.
"It's fine,” you shrug. “I'm not that hungry so I gave you a bigger portion."
John's concern only worsens. "You did what?"
"I wasn’t hungry so I—"
“I heard what you said,” interrupts John. He points at your plate. “But there’s nothing on it.”
“I’ll be fine.”
"No," he says firmly, waving his hand. "No."
Without asking, he swaps your plates.
"John. Stop."
"I'm not that hungry," he says, repeating your own words back at you. "Ate more than enough at work. I don't need all this. You do."
You reach for the plate but he lifts it off the table, holding it out of reach. Part of you wants to scold him to carry on the rouse, but instead you're giggling.
"Not sure what's funny,” grumbles John.
"There's more,” you laugh, covering your mouth.
"There's—” John glances between you and the kitchen. John rolls his eyes but he's trying to hold back a smile. “You naughty fucking thing."
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
You place a plate piled high with food in front of Kyle.
“Thanks, babe.” He glances up at you, grinning. His gaze shifts to your plate, smile fading into confusion. You purposely gave yourself less just to see his reaction.
“I forgot forks.” You walk back into the kitchen. “You want a fork, right?”
“Yeah,” replies Kyle slowly, now pointing at your plate. “But…what is that?”
You return to the table. “That’s all we had left.”
Lies. There’s plenty left.
“But why is mine full and yours—” He gestures at your plate.
You feign confusion. “You work really hard. You need it.”
“This,” says Kyle pointing at his own plate. “Is a lot.” He then points at your plate. “That’s not.”
“It’s fine.”
“You’re taking some of mine.”
“Kyle—”
“Don’t argue with me.”
You pick up your fork, intending to eat, but Kyle is quick, snatching your plate right off the table and swapping it with his. He keeps your plate in his hand, shoving you away when you try to reach for it.
“Sit,” he commands.
“Kyle.”
He ignores you, clearing the plate in a couple of bites.
“Kyle,” you scold, but you’re giggling, dropping the guise.
“Why are you laughing?” he asks, glancing around.
Unable to keep control of your composure, you point in the direction of the kitchen. Frowning, Kyle follows your index finger. He takes a few steps into the kitchen and comes to a dead stop.
He slowly spins on his heel, his expression so exasperated that you burst out laughing. With a loud sigh, Kyle returns to the table, swapping the empty plate for the full one.
Dropping into his seat, Kyle shakes his head. “Get yourself a real portion and then come join me.” Then, with a smirk, “You little terror.”
John "Soap" MacTavish
Johnny reclines on the sofa, completely absorbed in the rugby match on the television.
With you, is dinner. Two plates, one for each of you. You’ve loaded Johnny’s plate, but have hardly filled yours. It’s just a prank. A test to see if he notices anything.
He has a knack for not paying attention to the smaller details. Sometimes Johnny is so distracted whenever there is a game on that he's oblivious to everything else around him. One time—just to see—you walked around completely naked. It took nearly a full fifteen minutes for him to realize it.
You casually take a seat next to him, offering Johnny his plate.
"Thank you," he says, taking it without removing his gaze from the television.
You keep your plate in your lap, casually moving the few bites of food around while taking incredibly small bites.
Johnny chews. Watches. Still oblivious to your tiny portion.
You purposefully bang your fork against the side of the plate.
He does a double take. "What’s that?"
"What’s what?"
"That.”
You shrug. "It’s all we had left."
With a growl that’s more groan, Johnny starts pushing his food off his plate and onto yours.
"Johnny. No. That's your food." He tuts, not saying anything. "I'm fine." you insist, trying to push his plate away.
“No, love,” says Johnny. He settles back onto the sofa and gives your cheek a quick peck.
You wait a beat. "There's plenty of food."
Johnny turns. Blinks. "Oh, aye?" He grabs your plate and dumps the food back on his.
"Johnny!"
"You’re having a right laugh.” He gestures toward the kitchen. “Go on.”
As you stand, he gives your ass a light smack. When you turn to swat his hand, you’re greeted with his cheeky grin.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
The plate you set before Simon is nearly overflowing.
"Thank you, love," he murmurs, placing his hand at your back.
You lean in, giving him a quick kiss. He accepts it with a soft smile, lightly squeezing your thigh before you step away to grab your own plate.
Compared to Simon’s portion, your plate is practically empty. It’s really only a few bites, but it’s just for kicks. There is plenty still left in the kitchen. You just want to fuck with Simon.
When you set your plate down and fall into your seat, Simon’s attention immediately focuses in on the lack of sustenance.
He leans forward a bit, staring you down, silent.
“What?” you ask, pretending that this is all perfectly normal.
He keeps staring.
“What is it?” you prompt.
“No.”
No. Just—no.
You blink. "No? No what?”
Simon sucks his fork clean and tosses it onto the table, still shaking his head. You’re losing. It’s hardly started and you’ve lost.
“It’s all that’s left!”
He shakes his finger at you, walking away and into the kitchen. “I know you,” he says over his shoulder. “You’re taking the piss.”
Goddamn it.
Simon sees right through you. Always does.
taglist:
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tprings-hair · 3 days ago
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I'm going to say something about the new unification short film that I haven't seen anyone here say yet.
I love the handholding scene. massively impactful. I love the echo of "this simple feeling" from the motion picture and the genesis reference and the idea that spock did not die alone or among strangers. it's just so satisfying after all this time to know that even shatner knew it was wrong and needed to be approached with more compassion for nimoy and the fans who loved these characters and knew they should be together at the end, whatever that looked like.
but you know what really got me?
this minute or so. kirk confronting his old selves. because that's obviously original series kirk right there in the gold uniform.
and the other? THAT'S HIM!!
(I'm linking it this way because you apparently can't add more than one video to a post and I need it here for demonstration.)
so we have present kirk walking down a dark hallway. at the end is spock, but at the end is also spock's death. how can he step forward and face that? what happened to the way he used to think about death?
yellow shirt is TOS kirk, who had always found a way around the problem and never (if the movies are to be believed) had to face death straight on. he's looking forward with confidence. there's no way spock is dying. there's a way out of this somehow, if only he can find it.
TOS kirk looks back the way he came, because he believes he can go back. he can always go back. the series always resets to the same characters who can be depended on to take similar actions, because that's what a serial is, and that's who he is. things have taken their toll on him, but he knows he can take the hit and keep moving.
but he stops when he's faces with WOK kirk. the one in the red dress uniform, who has lost spock and knows what it is to live without him. who has faced death in a way he had never had to before, because the constraints of the series never allowed it. he has been changed because of it.
TOS kirk sees that, and does that sort of posturing that he always does in front of someone who's threatening him. but WOK kirk isn't threatening him. he's just living through something TOS kirk hasn't had to face yet. it's him staring his past self in the face and telling him, kindly and firmly, you know nothing about how it will feel. you will never be the same without him.
and TOS kirk looks back again, and there's a present kirk, wearing his generations uniform. this is kirk having turned that grief to a desperate search for the most important person in his life, and emerged with spock by his side. he's not the same, but he's made it through. of course TOS kirk would look to that.
and as our kirk looks at these people he used to be, they vanish in front of him. he remembers the way he used to think about losing spock. the fear, the grief, the hope. there's no hope left. when he reaches the end, spock will be there, and it will be their last time together.
but he puts the pin back on, and reminds himself of his duty not just to a fellow officer, but to a friend, to the most important person in his life, and to himself. spock should not be alone, and he never got to say goodbye properly before. doing it now is the least he can do.
that's his ultimate responsibility in that moment: being there for spock. that's been his ultimate responsibility from the beginning. and this is shatner acknowledging that they deserved an ending that fit that truth.
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kitten4sannie · 2 days ago
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two player game
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pairing: gamer boy! yunho x gf! reader
genre: smut with zero plot
summary: you find something worthwhile to occupy your attention while your boyfriend is wrapped up in his current save file.
w.c: 1.7k
warnings: nasty dom! yuyu (bro gets a bit whiny), tiny bit bratty mostly good girl! reader, pet names + name calling, praise + degradation, SIZE KINK 🗣️🗣️🗣️, monster cock yunho agenda, implied throat/hole training, manhandling, edging, cockwarming w throat, messy oral + deep-throating, finger sucking, a (rough) quick fuck bc yunho cums in 0.5 seconds, breeding + bulge kink, creampie <3
a/n: as a certified yunwhore i simply couldn’t pass up the opportunity to write about gamer boy yuyu ~~ honestly i have no excuse for this tbh i just need him so baddddd and this is what i have to do to keep the voices at bay 😔✊🏼 anygays, enjoy lovelies! and if you liked, please consider sharing your thots with me :3 <3
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“You said you would stop playing after you finished that level, Yun, come on,” you whined to your boyfriend, who was currently balls deep in the newest video game he just bought. It should’ve been you he was balls deep in, yet here you were, third wheeling to an inanimate object. 
Yunho ducked and weaved around your waving hands that were currently trying to block his view from the flatscreen tv he was locked in on, sitting up from the slouched position he had on the sofa you both were lounging on. 
“Ugh,” you huffed, throwing yourself back into the couch, your arms crossing over your chest. “Whatever.” 
He turned his head for a moment to look at you apologetically, reminiscent of a golden retriever that just got scolded. “I’m sorry, baby, I swear, I’ll get off soon. I’m just…at a really good part right now.” 
“You said that twenty minutes agoooo.” You leaned against Yunho, your cheek squishing into his large shoulder, pawing at his nearest thigh. “Why can’t you play with me, instead of your stupid game?” 
“Oh, I see.” Yunho raised an eyebrow at you, glancing at you through his peripheral vision. “Someone’s in heat, huh?” 
You let out a whimper, kneading at his upper thigh. “I want you, Yun…Please, pay attention to me~” 
Yunho simply spread his thighs apart, your gaze shifting from his mischievous eyes to his poorly concealed cock still trapped inside his black sweatpants. He grunted, reaching down to adjust it, moving his thick length over so that it laid comfortably across the thigh closest to you. “You can have me, princess. I’m right here.” 
Just as you were about to pounce on him, Yunho grasped the bottom of your face in between his slender fingers. “Ahh, ahh, ahh.” Chuckling at the sight of your squished cheeks and confused face, he leaned in, whispering, “Go ahead and cockwarm me, baby, with that pretty little mouth of yours. You can do that for me while I finish this part, mm?” 
The sick bastard was toying with you. Well, two could play at that game. Licking your lips, you got down onto your knees in front of Yunho, fitting yourself in between his open thighs. Without saying a word, you began to run your fingers along his soft length over the material of his pants, tracing the outline of it, feeling it harden underneath your fingertips, making sure to rub your thumb over his pronounced tip, knowing it was sensitive. 
As if on cue, a small whimper escaped Yunho’s straining throat, his eyebrows screwing together as if to concentrate harder, refusing to look down at you. 
Filled with determination to interrupt his gaming, you tugged the waistline of his sweatpants down, your thighs squeezing together from the way his dripping cock smacked heavily up into his lower abdomen. You wrapped your hand around it, humming at how warm it felt within your grasp, lowering yourself down to slowly drag your tongue from the base up to the tip, licking around the tip until it shined. Lightly sucking it into your mouth, you palmed his balls one at a time, squeezing them suddenly, earning another whimper from your boyfriend. 
“You’re playing dirty, princess,” Yunho grunted, pressing his back into the couch, glancing down at you just in time to watch a good majority of his pulsing cock disappear down your throat. “Fuck, what a good slut…” He stroked the top of your head like he would with a cat, nodding approvingly. “I trained your throat well, haven’t I? Now, stay just like that while I play, okay?” 
Your cheeks grew warm from hearing your boyfriend’s polarizing praise, unable to keep yourself from letting his thick length push even deeper down into your throat, breathing shallowly through your nose, your lips already stinging at the corners. “Mmmrfff….” You stayed still for as long as you could with his oversized cock pressing against your tongue and throat, beads of saliva dripping past your mouth and down along his slick skin, using your hand to lube up what you couldn’t fit inside your mouth in the meantime. 
Yunho shuddered from underneath your touch, his half-closed eyes shifting downwards to burn the image of his tiny girlfriend, who was currently being swallowed by one of his many hoodies, trying her absolute best to fit his big cock inside her mouth. Your stark size differences always made him throb, made him want to take advantage of them in every way he could. “Look at you, taking all of me like that, baby…Take some more, okay?” he exhaled, sliding his slender fingers into your hair and bucking his hips up, fucking himself into your tight, warm throat. 
“Mmnn…!” you moaned back, squeezing your hands into his large thighs, feeling his muscles tighten up underneath your fingertips. You were so wet already, you had no choice but to squeeze your bare thighs together as a poor attempt to keep from soaking the carpet underneath you. Being enveloped in your boyfriend’s warm cologne and clothes while he ruthlessly shoved his cock down your throat was simply too much for a sensitive girl like you to handle without creaming yourself. 
“So tight, princess, just like your wet little cunt, huh?” he groaned out, opting to wrap his fingers around the back of your neck and continue shoving himself into your throat, rolling his hips up in a quick, sloppy fashion, with clear desperation, and a need to give his pretty cum dump a load to gulp down. He audibly hummed at the choked moans and gasps you were letting out, pulling out just to roughly slap his cock down onto your lolled out tongue, grunting and groaning as he shot thick spurts of cum down your throat. He tried to control his panting, wanting to hear your answer to his next question. “You sounded so hot, choking and moaning on my cock like that. You soaked your panties just from getting throat-fucked, didnt you, baby?” 
“Uh-huhhh,” you purred, your voice a bit gravelly from the abuse your throat took, swallowing down most of his load, only sticking your tongue back out when he reached down to push two fingers over it and into the back of your throat. 
Yunho watched with awe as you didn’t seem to gag, humming at the feeling of you sucking the rest of his pre-cum and other mixed fluids from his slender digits. “That’s my good girl…so well trained now…fuck.” 
You moaned onto his fingers that continued to lazily slide over your tongue and occasionally down into your throat, slowly pulling away to purr, “My cunt’s trained too, Yuyu. Don’t you wanna fill up my other hole, see how well I can handle your cock now?”  
Not caring that he had been missing out on the important lore that was playing out in the current cutscene the entire time, Yunho tossed his controller out of the way and lifted you up from the floor, taking a second to push your soaked panties out of the way before he sat you down onto his cock. He let out a small growl, watching your cunt swallow the thick tip of his cock and slowly take the rest of him inch by inch. “God, you’re still so fucking tight, princess…” Yunho pressed his lips onto your ear, rubbing his hands up and down your waist, the borrowed hoodie you wore bunching up near your tummy. “Mm, but you can’t help having such a tiny pussy, can you? So small and cute…perfect for my big cock to fuck full…” 
“Perfect for you, Yun, just for you–nnngh…!” you gasped sharply, just as your boyfriend began ramming himself up into you, his hands tightening the grip they had around your soft waist, using you like you were his own perfectly crafted cocksleeve. “So big, so biggg, fuck–”
“And you’ll fit it all inside your perfect cunt, just like you always do, won’t you, baby? Yeah, just like that,” he groaned out, lowering one hand down to your tummy to rub circles over it, feeling his own cock as it slammed into your cunt each and every time. It never failed to make him feel so dizzy, knowing you were this small, yet you could always take his cock like a champ. “That’s my girl, look at you go, baby, letting me breed you like this…so good for me…” 
“So good, so good for you, Yuyu…” You gripped his shoulders tightly, your nails digging into them through his hoodie, unable to keep yourself from moving your hips down whenever he fucked up into you, growing more and more desperate now that you were on the edge of ecstasy. “Gonna cum…oh my god, breed me, please…!” 
“Gonna fuck you so full of my load, princess…” Yunho tossed his head back into the couch, his deep groans gradually turning into a staccato of whiny, higher-pitched moans, still able to forcefully drive you down onto his cock, but his thrusts growing increasingly sloppy and desperate. All Yunho had to do was lift his head back up to look at your pretty fucked out face and how effortlessly tiny you looked wearing his hoodie to reach his limit, immediately pumping his hot load into you as soon as it began spurting out of his aching cock. “You feel that, baby? All the cum I’m fucking into you…?” 
“Mmhmm…!” It felt so good, you started to cry. “I love it, Yuyu…” 
Just as his cockhead roughly kissed your cervix for the last time, Yunho felt your cunt lock around him like a vice, something warm and wet coating his cock and lap. “Fuck, you just came all over my cock, didn’t you?” He chuckled, rubbing your back in small circles. “Always making such a mess, aren’t you, babygirl?” 
“It’s all your fault, Yun,” you whined softly into Yunho’s shoulder, hugging onto him for dear life, your vision fading in and out. If you had came any harder, you would’ve passed out, though it was always like this whenever you were around your irresistible boyfriend. 
“Mm, why don’t you remind me of who it was that interrupted my gaming session?” He sent a playful smile your way, booping your nose when you pouted. “Oh baby, next time, just ask me if we can switch to a two player game~” 
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© kitten4sannie, 2024.
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sceletaflores · 2 days ago
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he’s a good time, cowboy casanova!
pair: cowboy!logan howlett x fem!reader
wc: 9.4k
contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, alternate universe/no powers, swearing, drinking, smoking, probably some inaccuracies about ranch life idk i haven't been around a horse in like two years, logan working a lasso yes god, age gap (Logan is mid-40s, reader is early-20s), THE COWBOY HAT RULE RAAAHHH, nasty dirty talk, i was so horny for kissing when i was writing this jesus, p in v, unprotected sex (do as sex ed tells you, not as i write), semi-public sex, riding, creampie, some emotional constipation cause it’s me, porn with a little too much plot, no use of y/n.
nat’s note: another purely self indulgent work...i just fucking love cowboys what can i say. it's practically ingrained in me by this point. logan would never dance but like who cares he's my barbie i can make him do whatever i want! kisses <3
dividers by angel @saradika-graphics!
a cowboy and the governor’s daughter walk into a barn...
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The ranch is alive like you've never seen before, almost every acre lit up in celebration of your father's recent inauguration.
Twinkling lights strung around the barn's ceiling cast a warm orange glow all around you, flickering like fireflies on a summer night.
People are everywhere—laughing, mingling, drinking. Their faces both familiar and new, dressed in everything from head-to-toe denim to their Sunday best.
The lively music from the band floats through the space, couples on the makeshift dance floor twirling to the familiar twang of an acoustic guitar.
You take it all in from your spot against the wall, drink in hand as your eyes scan the room.
You did your share of mingling earlier in the evening, greeting the higher-up’s in your city with hugs and thanks.
You posed for pictures that’ll be splashed across the front pages of Monday’s paper, listened to your father’s speech as you stood by his side with a smile.
This is the first moment you've gotten to yourself since the ball started, one you've spent in content silence while enjoying the perks of an open bar.
"What's a pretty thing like you doing all by your lonesome?"
The honeyed rasp of a voice filtering in from your left paired with the jingling sound of spurs against the soft ground grabs your attention.
At first, you turn ready to greet a stray boutique or feedstore owner you may have missed earlier. You’re pleasantly surprised to see Marie sauntering towards you instead, a bright grin on her face that makes you smile right back.
Marie was one of the first people you met after moving to Texas at the beginning of your father's campaign, and you've only gotten closer since she started as a ranch hand down at Blackbird.
Her unruly red curls spill out from under her Stetson, the bouncy strands swinging in time with the white fringe of her show-shirt as she opens her arms.
"Thought you might have gotten lost in all the fancy folk," she teases, nearly crushing you with the strength of her hug.
You laugh as you hug her back, the warmth of her embrace a welcome interruption to your moment of peace and quiet. Her scent wraps around you, the familiar dust and lavender that's seeped into her clothes.
"Definitely not lost," you say, stepping back to meet her gaze. "Just taking it all in."
Marie smirks, leaning a shoulder against the wall beside you, crossing her arms as she watches the crowd.
"Sure is a good night for it," she says, glancing over at you with a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Lookin' for anyone in particular? A nice night cap?"
You snort, taking another sip of your drink. Marie has always been more invested in your love life than you, hand picking guys from around town she deems worthy enough of your attention.
You know she means well, and it's almost as endearing as it is pesky, so you let her play matchmaker from time to time.
“I don’t need a night cap,” you laugh, shaking your head sluggishly. "I’m perfectly fine spending tonight alone."
Before Marie can respond, a stir from outside filters in. Loud cheers and hollers, hooves beating against dirt, the distinct whistle of a lasso slicing through the air.
Marie practically squeals, excitedly bouncing on the balls of her feet as she peers through the barn doors. “It’s starting!”
You don’t have time to ask what ‘it’ is before she’s snatching up your wrist and turning to haul you outside.
"Marie! Where the hell are we going?" You practically trip over your own feet trying to keep up with her, your drink splashing up against the rim of your glass precariously.
Marie laughs as she pulls you out into the cool evening air, her boots crunching on the gravel as she drags you toward the commotion. “You’ll see!”
You weave through the crowd forming around the training ring, Marie’s grip still tight around your wrist as she pushes toward the front until you’re right up against the railing. 
You peer over it, eyes adjusting to the floodlights surrounding the ring, illuminating the clouds of dust kicked up by the different ranch hands perched on horses.
A few riders take turns showing off their skills, each of them in the same show-shirt as Marie, expertly swinging lassos and wrangling cattle with practiced ease.
The energy is contagious, and you find yourself smiling, soaking in the excitement pulsing through the crowd.
Marie leans closer, her voice low and laced with something knowing. “Just wait for it, honey. It’s about to get good.”
You give her a puzzled look, but she’s already grinning ear to ear, her attention fully focused on a new rider that chargers into the ring.
You follow her gaze, and your breath catches in your throat.
He rides in like he owns the place, his coal black horse cutting through the fog of dirt like a shadow, sleek and powerful beneath him.
A black Stetson sits low over his face, casting shadows that only add to the rugged allure of his jawline, a jawline that could cut glass. 
As he leans forward to grab the rope tossed at him by one of the other riders, his muscles flex, a kind of strength that isn’t there for show, but for real work.
His show-shirt is stretched over the width of his chest, over broad shoulders that look like they were carved from stone, made for lifting hay bales and hundred pound feed bags.
The sleeves rolled up to expose forearms dusted with dark hair and more than a few scars. His gloved hands rest on the reins with an ease that tells you he’s more than familiar on a saddle.
He’s not the flashiest rider, but there’s something commanding in his presence as he races his horse towards the steer, lasso circling high above his head.
He doesn’t even look like he’s trying to put on a show—he is the show.
Marie’s grip on your wrist tightens, and she leans in again, her voice loud enough to be heard over the crowd.
“That’s Logan,” she says, practically glowing with pride. ”He’s the foreman down at Blackbird, might just be the best damn cowboy in the whole state.”
You blink, hardly able to tear your gaze away from Logan, who’s riding like he’s part of the horse, one seamless, commanding figure cutting through the chaos in the ring. 
His focus is sharp, and as his lasso snaps through the air, catching the steers back leg in a clean loop, the crowd erupts in applause.
A satisfied smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, a glimmer of amusement flashing beneath the shadow of his hat.
Marie nudges you, her grin widening as she catches the look on your face. “Told you he was worth watching,” she teases, winking. “And he’s got a bit of a reputation for bein’ hard to impress—one of those strong, silent types, y’know?”
You roll your eyes, but your heart beats a little faster as Logan turns his horse, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before it lands on you.
Your cheeks warm under his stare, trying to subtly make out the different features of his face from this far. His head tilts just slightly, as if he’s sizing you up from across the ring.
For a second, it feels like the two of you are the only ones there. The cheers from the audience dulling into white noise all around you, everything in your peripheral blurring together—everything but him.
“He’s good…” Your voice has gone light, airy as you watch Logan turn his horse back to lead the steer into the ring's stall with all the others. 
Marie's grin only widens as she leans against the post, clever eyes trained on the side of your face. "You still 'perfectly find spendin' the night alone'?"
You don't respond, too busy watching the strong muscle of Logan's back ripple under his shirt as he rides out of the ring—to your complete dismay—almost as fast as he rode in.
You're only snapped out of your trance when you can't make out his silhouette any longer. The crowd around you dissipates, filtering back into the barn while you're stuck to the fence straining your eyes for broad shoulders and a black cowboy hat.
“Show’s over, sugar.” Marie says with a snort, gently tugging you away from the post. “Come on, let’s get you another drink.”
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You lost your company ten minutes ago, but you knew you didn’t stand a chance when Remy found the two of you huddled at the bar.
Sheepishly coming up to Marie with his hat in his hand, pressing it to his chest as he asked her for a dance.
You waved them off with a smile, assuring Marie you'd be fine on your own for a couple songs.
It gave you a chance to step out for some fresh air, to lean against the side of the barn and sneak a cigarette while your father was busy dancing with the town's best real estate agent money can buy.
You take a slow drag, eyes peering up at the stars so you can trace the constellations. You think that this might just be your favorite part of the move. 
Nevada has never been known for its clear skies, you can count the times you’d been able to see the stars on one hand.
You still remember the first night after you settled into your new house, the stress of the move and your fathers inauguration weighed on you enough that sleep was hard to come by. 
You finally crept out of bed around three, climbing over your balcony to perch yourself on the roof, carton of cigarettes and a lighter shoved in the waistband of your shorts.
The first time you looked out over the horizon was like stepping into a whole new world.
The stars had never felt so close, hung through the air like diamonds. So bright against the vast nothingness that stretched out beyond the too-big ranch house on the too-many acres the state appointed you and your father. 
It was like you could almost reach out and touch them, pluck them from the sky like fruit off a tree.
You’d been used to the city lights, the constant hum of noise that swallowed up the stars, but here? It was different. 
The air smelled of dust and rainwater, and the silence was louder than anything you’d ever known.
You remember the deep, quiet hum of the night, almost like it was waiting for you to catch up, to adjust to the new rhythm of the world you were suddenly a part of.
It was a moment of peace, a brief stillness from the mess crowding your head, and you found comfort in that isolation.
You take another long drag, letting the smoke curl around your fingers, the orange embers glowing bright against the darkness.
As the faint scent of tobacco mixes with the cool air, you find that same sense of peace returning, the same stillness settling over your chest.
You tilt your head back to rest on the barn, eyes fluttering shut as you let the crisp breeze lull you into its serenity.
"Those'll kill you, y'know."
A voice comes from just over your shoulder, warm and low. A smooth drawl ringing out from the shadows.
You slip your eyes open, expecting to see one of the older ranch hands or maybe even a city official looking to lecture the governor's kid. 
It takes you a second, but the black Stetson and squared shoulders register quickly enough—Logan. 
You nearly swallow your tongue, eyes widening as you take in the way he leans against the barn a few feet away from you. You don’t know how long he’s been standing there, watching you. 
The moonlight dances across his face, highlighting the rough line of his jaw and the confident tilt of his smirk.
“I didn’t think cowboys were one’s for giving lectures.” You’re shocked at the stillness of your voice, the beat of your heart picking up the tiniest bit.
Logan’s smirk only widens as he pushes off the wall, gravel crunching under his boots as he makes his way over to you, slow and deliberate. He’s still dressed in the same outfit from before, a lasso still coiled in one hand.
He comes to a stop next to you, leaning his shoulder just inches from yours. "Not usually. But when I see a pretty girl puffin' away on somethin' that's bound to ruin her, I make an exception."
You smirk, lifting the cigarette to your lips again just to make a point, even as your pulse jumps a little under his gaze. "Guess we all have our vices.” You say, blowing out the smoke slowly, watching the way his gaze tracks its lazy drift.
Logan’s eyes trail back to yours, and you can see the color of them now that he’s closer. A mix of different greens and browns fading together, like a forest in the thick of summer.
The lightest dusting of freckles decorate the bridge of his nose, trailing along his cheeks until they disappear under his beard, a product of being out in the sun so often.
You’re struck by how pretty he is, all long lashes and red lips.
Well, pretty for a cowboy anyway.
“You plan on sharin’?”
You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles from your chest, brow raising skeptically. “That’s a little hypocritical, don’t you think?”
Logan just shrugs, a lazy half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I reckon’ it’s rude to let a lady smoke alone.”
You huff lightly, reaching into the pocket of your dress. You flick the top of your Marlboros open, slipping a cigarette out and offering it to Logan silently. 
He takes it, his fingers brushing against yours enough to send a spark through you. It travels up your arm and all around your shoulders to seep down through your entire body, resting in your stomach to swirl through the heat simmering there.
“Got a light?” He asks, words muffled around the filter.
You roll your eyes, but reach back into your pocket regardless. Logan leans closer as you flip your zippo open, taking his hat off to cover the side of his face, blocking the flame from the lazy breeze.
Your heart stutters in your chest as he nears closer. You didn’t expect he’d want you to light it for him. You will your hand to steady as you raise the flame to the tip, holding it close enough that the small light illuminates his face.
The intoxicating mix of leather and musk invades your senses. You fight the urge to lean into it entirely, to close the gap.
When the flame flickers and catches the end of his cigarette, Logan pulls back, taking a languid drag, the embers glowing between his lips.
His eyes don't leave yours as he exhales deeply, the smoke curling from his lips in slow tendrils. You can’t tell if it’s the nicotine or the way he’s looking at you that’s making your head spin.
You break eye contact, feeling the flush creeping up your neck, and lean back against the barn to cool yourself off. Logan leans beside you, a comfortable silence settling over the two of you, just the soft crackling of cigarettes and distant music filling the space between.
Logan puts his hat back on, his voice breaking through the quiet as he does. “You’re Governor Wright’s daughter, ain't you?”
You nod slowly, exhaling another long plume of smoke. It’s still weird hearing it out loud. “I am.”
Logan hums, turning his head to face you again. The silver moonlight catching the glint in his eye.
“Saw your picture in the paper.” His gaze rakes from the top of your head, all the way down to the tips of your boots. “Looked real nice.”
The air feels heavier as Logan’s eyes travel over you, lingering just long enough to make your skin tingle, before meeting your gaze again. His eyes hold a hint of amusement, the green of them darker than before. The heat swims through you faster, stronger.
“Congratulations.” He adds, almost like an afterthought. A quick pivot to take some attention away from how his eyes swept over your body so shamelessly.
You snort before you can stop yourself. If you had a dollar for every time you’ve heard that over the past few weeks. “Yeah,” you say, kicking at some rocks near your feet. “Thank you.”
You can see the way Logan’s brow raises out of the corner of your eye, his gaze burning a hole along your profile.
“Don’t sound too excited,” he comments, exhaling lazily. “That why you’re hidin’ out here?”
You shrug, leaning back against the barn and tapping your cigarette to shake off some ash. “Maybe I just like the quiet,” you say. “Or maybe I’m avoiding another round of ‘how proud are you of your daddy’ small talk.”
Logan stays quiet, and you feel the overwhelming need to explain yourself. A need to fill the silence, like he’s some kind of magnet that soothes the truth from people.
You sigh, turning your eyes to the dark sky again. “I’m happy for my dad, of course I am but…” You trail off, searching for the right words. “It’s just a lot.”
He chuckles lightly, a low rumble that feels more real than the sounds of laughter from inside the barn. “Hell, I don’t blame you,” he says, his eyes flicking up to the stars too. “Nothin’ wrong with takin' a breather now and then.”
You both stand there in comfortable silence, the night stretching out around you, as vast and open as the sky above. You let yourself study Logan out of the corner of your eye, noticing the way he seems at ease, like he’s as much a part of this land as the grass and stars.
Finally, he looks over, and you feel that sharp gaze settle on you again. “You keep starin’ like that,” he says, a teasing note creeping into his voice, “I’m gonna start thinkin’ you’re more interested in somethin' other than the stars.”
Your mouth drops open slightly, heat rushing to your ears as you search for something to say.
Logan’s smirk widens as he catches the way your breath stutters, and for a moment, the silence is thick, the air between you charged. 
You force a laugh, trying to play it off, but it’s weak, and you can feel the heat creeping up your neck again. "I—"
Back inside the barn, the band switches songs, saving you from your embarrassment. A softer melody floats through the air, slow and sweet as molasses. It’s muffled enough that it sounds almost hazy, like a soundtrack to the most wonderful dreams.
Logan turns to watch the shadows move in the light spilling through the open doors. Couples pairing off, taking to the dancefloor. All warm embraces and slow moving circles, swaying to the gentle beat.
He turns back to you, running his thumb over the coarse lasso in his hand. “Care for a dance?”
You raise your brow, skepticism written all over your face. “I don’t really do that.”
Logan doesn’t back down, tilting his head with an easy grin. “Seems like a waste not dancin’ in a dress like that.”
You can’t fight the smile that tugs your lips up, shaking your head with a quiet laugh as you peer down at the nice floral fabric of your sundress. The wind makes it swish along your sides, the flowy fabric swaying over the knee of your boots.
“Maybe another time, Logan.” You try to ignore how good his name feels rolling off your tongue.
He takes one last drag off his cigarette before he’s stubbing it out on the worn leather of his belt and slipping the butt in his jean pocket. It’s both the strangest and most endearing thing you’ve ever seen—a cowboy that refuses to litter.
“Well I’m gonna have to insist.” He crosses his arms over his chest, straining the fabric around his biceps. There’s a challenge in his eyes now, a dare.
“Oh, you’re insisting, are you?” You repeat doubtfully, lolling your head to the side languidly, your hair flowing with it. ”And how are you gonna do that?”
Logan doesn’t answer with words, just raises his arm to start twirling his lasso through the air with a smug grin. He circles once, twice, three times before a deft flick of his wrist sends the rope across the way to you. 
It slips over your shoulders, sliding down to catch on the curve of your hips.
You raise a brow, reluctant smile still playing on your lips. “Do you carry this thing with you everywhere you go?”
Logan cocks a brow, tugging on his end of the rope so it tightens around you, forcing you a step closer.
You stumble forward with a soft laugh, eyes darting up to meet Logan's. The lasso feels snug, but not tight enough to hurt, just enough to let you know he’s in control, and the thought sends a spark straight down to your core.
“You sure you don’t dance?” He tugs you a few steps closer, his smirk only deepening as he effortlessly reels you in.
You bite your lip to stifle a smile, shaking your head. “You sure are persistent, I’ll give you that.”
Logan doesn’t wait for you to say anything else, instead taking that final step forward. His grip tightens slightly on the lasso, pulling you closer until there’s barely any space between you. 
You can feel the warmth of his body through the thin fabric of your dress, his chest rising and falling with each slow, deliberate breath.
“Some would say it’s my best quality,” he teases quietly, voice dropping to something lower, like gravel and velvet. “Now, you gonna fight me the whole way through, or are we gonna dance?”
You glance up at him, your chest fluttering in spite of yourself. A thousand lame excuses run through your mind, but all you can manage is a breathless laugh, the sound caught somewhere between amusement and nerves.
“I guess I don’t have much of a choice,” you murmur, hands tentatively coming to rest on his shoulders. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Logan’s smile softens, his hand slinking around your hips to loosen the lasso, letting it slip down your legs so you can step out of it.
Big hands settle on your waist, brushing the soft fabric of your dress, sending a fresh wave of warmth through you. His touch is firm and gentle all at once, guiding you effortlessly into an easy sway.
The moment you fall into the rhythm of the music, your body moves naturally against Logan’s, and you can feel the charge between you intensify with each step.
His boots scrape against the dirt as he leads you in a slow, almost languid circle. Your feet match his without thinking, the sound of your boots in sync with the soft country tune playing from the barn.
“See? Not so bad, huh?” His voice is low, a soft whisper against the backdrop of the music.
You nod slowly, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, the warmth of his body seeping into your skin. The rough scrape of his jeans against your bare legs sends a delicious shiver skittering up your spine.
“Not so bad,” you agree, your voice quieter now, the playful edge slipping away as something deeper stirs between you.
You tilt your head up, breath catching in your chest when you find him already looking down at you. His lips quirk up slightly, but there’s a new intensity there now, something sharper than the teasing glimmer from before.
"Logan," you murmur, but your voice is barely a whisper, lost to the night air.
His free hand slides up the length of your spine, trailing along your neck until he’s cupping the side of your face. His thumb grazes your cheekbone with a gentleness you never thought men like him to be capable of.
The space between you shrinks even more as Logan dips his head, his nose brushing against yours in a featherlight touch that sends a shiver down your spine
“You gonna tell me to stop?” He murmurs, his lips so close now you can feel the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin.
Your throat works to form words, but they’re gone, stolen by the way his hands slide a fraction lower on your waist, pulling you flush against him. 
Your breath hitches again, and without thinking, you close the space, lips pressing against his, soft at first, unsure. Logan deepens it almost immediately, tugging you impossibly closer.
It’s tender–achingly so. Logan’s lips are surprisingly soft, he tastes like top-shelf whiskey and your Marlboro Golds. They mold to yours with a gentle pressure, warm and inviting. His hand on your face tilts your head slightly, angling you just right as his thumb continues to trace soft circles over your cheek.
The warmth of it spreads through you, settling low in your stomach, and you think you could stay like this the whole night, wrapped in the quiet safety of him.
All too soon, Logan’s pulling away. You whine pathetically, lips chasing his own. You’d be embarrassed if it wasn't for the pure need coursing through you.
“You were right,” he mutters lowly, running his thumb along the slick expanse of your bottom lip. “This is a hell of a lot better than dancin’.”
“Shut up.” You drag him back down by the fistfuls of his shirt, your own lips hungrily seeking out his again.
This kiss is different, something filthier, something messier. It’s like a dam breaking to let a rush of water break free, all the tension unraveling itself as you meet again.
The gentle tilt of Logan’s head changes, and when his teeth catch your bottom lip with just enough pressure, your knees feel dangerously close to buckling.
His hand slides down from your cheek, skimming your jawline before tangling into the hair at the nape of your neck. His tongue sweeps past your lips, and the taste of whiskey and smoke is heady, stronger, dizzying.
Logan’s mouth moves against yours with a confidence that makes your head spin, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.
You let out a soft, involuntary sound, and that only spurs him on, the hand in your hair tightening as he presses you back against the rough wood of the barn.
It digs into your body harshly, scratching at the bare skin of your shoulders and backs of your thighs. You hardly care.
Your hands come up to tangle in his hair, knocking his hat off so you can tug him closer as your tongues slide together lewdly. Logan groans into your mouth at the sting of his scalp, you can feel the rumble of it in your bones. 
His beard scratches against your chin and cheeks so deliciously that you can’t help but imagine where else it might rub your skin red and raw. The thought alone has a shudder running through you, your hips arching off the barn unconsciously.
The subtle grind when your hips slot together is enough to have Logan’s grip tightening around your hips. His fingers flexing where they’re still tangled in your hair. You moan softly at the hard length tenting his jeans, pressing insistently against your lower stomach, big even trapped in the rough denim.
Your body reacts to the thick plane of heat almost viscerally, your pussy aching with the need to be filled.
When you finally break apart, it’s only because neither of you can breathe.
Logan pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his forehead resting against yours, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths that match your own. His pupils are blown wide, dark and intense. You dazedly think back to the sleek coat of his horse, black as ink and shining under the rings lights. 
His lips are an angry red and slightly swollen, glistening in the pale moonlight, and the sight of him—disheveled and wanting—sends another wave of heat blooming through your core to leak wet and sticky in your panties.
“Your daddy would shoot me between the eyes if he caught us like this, darlin’.”
You hide your pleased smile in the crook of his neck, trailing soft kisses from his jaw to his ear. “Then we should find somewhere a little more private, shouldn’t we?”
Logan groans, hands bunching the fabric of your dress in tight fists as your lips brush against the lobe of his ear with every word, teasing. “I reckon’ we should.”
You step back, fingers trailing down to toy with the shiny belt buckle sitting pretty on his waist. “Lead the way.”
Logan smirks, tongue swiping along his bottom lip. “Yes ma’am.”
He bends to grab his hat from where it lays at his feet, pushing his hair away from his eyes before dropping it back on his head. His hand finds the small of your back, turning to lead you away from the barn.
You try not to notice how well it fits. 
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Turns out, ‘somewhere a little more private’ is just another barn. This one filled with stray mountains of hay and empty horse stalls instead of the watchful eyes of partygoers.
You can’t bring yourself to care, not when Logan’s got you pressed to the closed door, his hands roaming down your body like he’s memorizing every curve, every dip. 
“Christ, you’re somethin’ else,” Logan mutters, his voice thick with want as his lips ghost along the side of your neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses that make your knees shake.
His breath is hot against your ear when he adds, “Bet you’re soaked for me already, aren’t you, darlin’?”
The rough pads of his fingers drag along your bare thighs as he hikes your dress higher, the fabric bunching at your waist. The cool air kisses your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat between your legs as his palms knead the soft flesh. 
You bite your lip to stifle the embarrassing moan that threatens to escape, but he catches the sound anyway, pressing a cocky grin to the side of your cheek.
“C’mon, don’t get shy on me now.” His hand slides between your thighs, calloused fingers brushing against the damp fabric of your panties. 
The low groan that escapes him when he feels how wet you are is pure sin, vibrating against your neck as his fingers trace over the damp cotton. “Fuck, barely touched you and you’re already drippin’ for me.”
“Logan—” You start, but your words dissolve into a sharp gasp as he hooks a finger beneath the fabric, pulling it to the side.
The first drag of his finger through your slick folds has your head falling back against the wall with a dull thud. A high moan falls from your parted lips, embarrassing and needy as your thighs clench around his wrist.
Logan just hums, pressing a kiss to the corner of your slack mouth. “Is she hurtin’ real bad, baby?” he asks softly, his thumb pressed over your pulsing clit. “Just gotta give you some sweet kisses and she gets all worked up, huh?”
Your only response is a breathless whimper, your fingers clutching at his shoulders for stability as he teases you with slow, torturous circles around your clit.
His thick pointer finger slides through the slick seam of your pussy, catching on your dripping entrance before it’s sinking to the knuckle in one slow thrust. 
You arch into him, your hips rocking instinctively to take him deeper, desperate for more. His other hand comes up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing along your cheek as his gaze locks onto yours. 
The intensity in his eyes makes your stomach flip, your breath hitching as he watches every little expression cross your face.
“That’s it, darlin’,” he coaxes, sliding his finger in and out at a maddeningly slow pace. “Look at you, so fuckin’ beautiful. Takin’ my fingers so good, baby.”
“Please,” you gasp, the need in your voice making his smirk widen.
“Please what?” he teases, curling his finger inside you and grinning when you nearly sob at the sensation. “Gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart.”
You whimper, thighs trembling as you manage to stutter out, “Kiss…kiss me.”
Logan groans, brows twitching up like that wasn’t what he was expecting to fall from your slick, kiss bitten lips. He doesn’t waste a second, leaning in to capture your mouth with his in a kiss that’s equal parts desperate and bruising. 
His lips part against yours, tongue sliding in to meet yours, hot and eager, as he sinks a second finger inside your clenching hole. 
The kiss deepens, becoming a rhythm of its own, each stroke of his tongue matching the languid thrust of his fingers.
Logan's lips move hungrily against yours, his pace never faltering even as his fingers curl inside you, searching, teasing, until—there.
The moment he brushes against that spot, your back arches off the barn wall, a sharp gasp tearing from your throat. He grins against your lips, breaking the kiss just long enough to murmur, “There she is.”
The slick sound of his fingers pumping into you fills the quiet barn, mingling with your soft, breathy whimpers. His thumb circles your clit with devastating precision, each pass of his fingers inside you coaxing your body closer to the edge.
“You’re squeezin’ me so tight, honey,” he groans, his voice rough and dripping with praise. “Can feel how close you are. Bet you’re gonna fall apart for me so pretty, aren’t ya?”
You shake your head, your breath coming in soft pants. “No.” Your hand snakes down to his wrist, halting his movements. “Wanna finish with you inside me.”
Logan stills, his breath catching as your words hang heavy in the air. His fingers stay buried inside you, the slight curl of them making your thighs quake as his eyes search yours.
The fire there burns hotter now, feral and barely restrained. 
“Yeah?” The raw hunger in his voice makes your pulse spike. “You want me inside you, huh? Wanna feel me stretch you open, baby?”
You nod eagerly, your chest heaving as his words fan the flames of your desire. 
“Alright,” he mutters darkly, voice gone low and smoky. “I’ll give you what you want.”
Logan slips his fingers from the warm grip of your pussy, the sudden emptiness stealing all the air from your lungs. You miss the stretch almost immediately, clenching around nothing with a soft moan.
He lifts his hand between you, his fingers glistening with your wetness in the dim light. “Look at that,” he says softly, almost in awe, before slipping his fingers into his mouth and groaning at the taste.
“Fuck,” you whisper, your cheeks burning at the sight. 
Logan catches your gaze, a wicked smirk spreading across his face as he leans in close. “C’mon,” he whispers softly against the skin of your neck, hands slipping around the backs of your thighs and squeezing gently. “Up.”
You hitch your legs up around his waist, a soft breath escaping you at the way he lifts you with ease, like you weigh nothing.
You can’t help but run your hands over the thick muscle of his biceps as he walks you further into the barn, lips trailing wet kisses along where his shirt’s top button popped open, exposing more of his tan skin to your greedy eyes.
Logan falls back against a knocked over bale of hay, you feel the hot length of his hard cock grinding over the slick fabric of your panties as he positions you over his lap.
You waste no time, stray pieces of hay digging into your knees as your trembling hands reach for his buckle. Your fingers brush over the cool metal as you fumble sliding the worn leather through his belt loops.
Logan just watches you, leaning back on his forearms with a smirk—cool as ever.
Once his belt is undone and his zipper dragged down, you shove at his jeans, watching with a mix of anticipation and desire as his cock springs free, thick and heavy and already leaking for you. 
You’ve heard the expression ‘hung like a horse’ countless times. You always thought it was a gross exaggeration, until now.
Logan’s hand glides down his stomach to start stroking himself lazily, his eyes never leaving yours. “Been hard since the second I laid eyes on you tonight. Could barely keep my hands to myself, watchin’ you all dolled up like that. Drove me fuckin’ crazy.”
Your mouth waters with the need to taste, eyes tracking the thick line of pre-come leaking from his flushed tip. 
The phantom ache in your jaw almost has you dropping to your stomach right there, but you know that your time here is limited, and you need Logan inside of you more than anything.
You lean back, lifting your legs so you can shimmy your soaked panties down and off, tossing them behind you haphazardly the same way you tossed his belt.
His eyes are locked onto yours as you crawl back towards him, situating yourself over his lap all over again. You take a steadying breath as you reach for his cock, nearly moaning at the heft of it in your hand, at the near scalding touch of his silky skin against your palm.
“Hang on, baby.” Logan’s hands fall to your hips, stopping you just as the tip of his cock brushes against your dripping pussy. “You wanna ride, you gotta look the part.”
He drags his hands lower, calloused palms rough against the soft skin of your thighs. It’s enough to make you shiver, hips twitching down with the desperate need to be filled.
“Got the boots,” he murmurs idly, thumbs sliding along the back of your thighs. “Just need the hat.”
Logan reaches up to grab his hat by the crown, pulling it off his head to drop it on yours.
You left out a soft breath, feeling the worn felt settle on the top of your head, still warm from his own.
It’s too big, slipping down to shadow your eyes. Logan’s gaze darkens as he adjusts it, tipping it back just enough to frame your face.
“Much better,” he says, flicking the brim once before his hands fall back to your hips. “Alright cowgirl, give it to me good.”
The words shoot straight to your core, igniting something wild and reckless inside you.
You bite your lip, spurred on by the way his hands knead the meat of your hips. Not forcing or pushing, just two steady weights as you slowly start to sink down.
It's nearly torturous, but in the best way possible. The stretch of each inch a pleasant burn as your hips slot against his after what feels like an eternity.
“Fuck.” Logan grits out, his hands tightening on your hips as you settle, giving yourself a moment to adjust to the overwhelming fullness. 
Your body trembles, a soft whimper escaping your lips as you slowly begin to move, rolling your hips in slow, deliberate circles.
Logan’s eyes track every movement, darkened with need, a quiet groan slipping from him as his hands slide lower, gripping your ass, urging you to pick up the pace.
“That’s it, darlin’,” he murmurs, his voice husky. “Takin’ it all so good.”
His praise only encourages you, and you lift yourself up before sinking back down, your hands gripping the scratchy fabric of his shirt for leverage.
The feeling of him filling you up, stretching you with every downward movement, makes your head swim, the pressure building in your core.
The barn is filled with the sounds of skin slapping together lewdly, with the wet gush of your pussy leaking around the base of his cock messily. It has your ears burning, shame and arousal a heady mix in your lower belly.
Logan’s hips start to rise from the barn floor, snapping up to meet yours with every bounce. You can feel him deeper like this, brushing against places that make your legs shake with pleasure. 
You’re dangerously close to the edge already, a mess from all the teasing earlier. But from the way Logan’s muscles flex and tense beneath you, you can tell he is too.
“Goddamn,” he growls, his hands moving to grip your thighs, helping you bounce on top of him impossibly faster. “You feel so fuckin’ good, baby, so fucking perfect. Don’t stop.”
His words make your head spin, the filthy praise sending a fresh wave of heat pooling in your belly. You can’t hold back the moans spilling from your lips, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge.
Your hands scramble for the front of his shirt, tugging and pulling until it’s loose enough to show off the toned muscle of his chest.
You rake your nails through the dark hair decorating his skin, hardly paying any attention to the brand burned into the skin across his left pec.
"Tell me how it feels," he groans, his voice dark and commanding. "Tell me how good I’m makin’ you feel."
"So good," you manage to gasp, your voice breaking as he grinds against that perfect spot inside you. "Logan, I—"
“You’re close,” he rasps, his grip on your hip tightening as he drives into you harder. “I can feel you, baby. So fuckin’ close. Gonna come for me, aren’t ya? Gonna milk my cock like a good girl?”
You’re too far gone to answer, your body trembling as the coil in your stomach clenches, tighter and tighter. Your head lolls back to the ceiling, eyes fluttering shut as you near the edge.
"C’mon honey," Logan groans, his thumb finding your clit again, circling it in time with his thrusts. “Come for me, let it all fuckin’ out.”
You're helpless to deny him, the thick stretch of his cock paired with the gentle pressure of his thumb on your clit tightening your body like a bowstring threatening to snap.
 “Logan—oh God—Logan!” Your orgasm crashes over you, leaving you trembling and gasping as your walls shake around him.
Logan’s hips stutter, his rhythm faltering as he groans low in his throat. “Goddamn,” he growls, his voice wrecked. “So fuckin’ perfect, squeezin’ me so tight—fuck—”
With a few more rough thrusts, he buries himself as deep as he can go, his body going rigid against yours as he finds his own release, groaning your name like it’s the only word he knows.
You slump onto him gracelessly, your body spent and trembling as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. His cock jumps and pulses inside you, sending little aftershocks through your sensitive core as you feel the slick spray of his come painting your walls.
The rough fabric of his shirt feels oddly comforting on the overheated skin of your cheek as you rest your head on his chest, trying to catch your breath.
The brand catches your eye again, more pronounced now that the wiry hair dusted along his chest lays flush, slick with a thin sheen of sweat.
You raise your hand, gently tracing over the raised skin, feeling the rough texture under your fingertips. A curved ‘X’ scarred right over his heart. 
The same ‘X’ that was embroidered on the front of Marie’s shirt, that hangs above the doors of the very barn you lay in, that’s scattered all throughout the property.
You read once that not all cowboys choose the brand, only the most loyal to the ranch. A kind of fierce loyalty that knows no bounds, that has no limits—it may be the only loyalty most will ever know.
You think back to your grandmother sitting you down at her weathered kitchen table a few days before your father and you made the move. The stern talking to she gave you felt silly at the time, useless information that you’d never actually need.
Now that you're here, her words ring in your ears for the first time in months, blaring and unavoidable.
“Don’t go and get mixed up in any cowboy business, honey. They’ll never love you more than the life, you’ll always be in the rearview mirror.”
Logan takes your hand in his, bringing it from his chest to his lips for a quick kiss before pointedly lowering it to his jean clad thigh. You can feel the way his fingers flex around your wrist, telling.
You swallow hard, the air in the barn suddenly feeling thick and heavy.
You're pushing yourself to your feet before you even realize what you're doing, ignoring the dull ache as his spent cock slips from inside you.
Logan hisses at the sensation, but he's pushing himself to his feet all the same. You're dying to sneak a peek at the look on his face, but you refuse to turn to him.
Maybe out of shame, maybe out of fear for what you might find if you do.
You straighten the wrinkled fabric of your dress, trying in vain to make yourself look as half as presentable as you did before walking into this barn.
The distant sound of a zipper being tugged up and the whisper of denim against denim catches your attention. Your eyes flick to the doors, your brain going a million miles a minute as you consider your options.
You could always beat him to it. You could walk out right now and pretend this never happened, avoid Blackbird like the plague for the rest of your fathers political career.
You doubt you'd ever see Logan outside these fences, it would be so easy to forget.
You shift on your feet, lip caught between your teeth. The sweet ache between your legs only matches the one in growing your chest, all those good feelings sour at the thought of walking away.
Against your better judgment, you turn back to him. 
Logan’s already looking at you, hands busy with slipping his belt back into place.
You’ve always been good at reading people, at gauging what they might be feeling, but as your eyes scan along the flushed skin of his face, you find yourself unable to describe what you see swirling in his eyes.
“When will I see you again?” It’s weak, barely a whisper. You want to kick yourself for sounding so small, for getting so caught up in a man you hardly know.
Logan lets out a soft breath, hands coming to rest on his hips as he searches for something to say. “Whenever you have a reason to I reckon'.”
The words hang heavy in the air between you.
His answer is honest, unpolished—just like him. Something about it hits you deeper than you expect, a bittersweet sting that tightens your chest.
It’s not a perfect answer, but it’s something. 
You try to stomp down all the feelings of hope filling your mind, pointedly ignoring the eruption of butterflies in your stomach.
“Well if that’s the case,” you say slowly, eyes never leaving Logan’s as you step closer. “Then I guess you better keep these.”
You reach around his waist to slip your panties in the back pocket of his jeans, patting the denim a few times for good measure before you step away again.
“Gives you a reason to come see me again, cowboy.”
Logan chuckles, soft and sweet as he shakes his head bemusedly. He raises his hand, gently taking his hat from your head to drop it back on his own.
“You’re really somethin’ else,” he mutters, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, the gesture tender in its unexpectedness.
You let out a shaky breath, heart pounding in your chest, and for a moment, everything feels raw.
Too raw. Like you're teetering on the edge of something dangerous and intoxicating, something you’re not sure you’re ready to handle.
You let your gaze drop to the floor, biting the inside of your cheek as you resist the urge to say something else, to push the moment further.
Instead, you turn, taking a slow step toward the barn doors.
Just before you reach them, you hear him again, his voice steady, but there’s something in it that makes you pause, hands lingering on the doorframe.
"Don’t be a stranger, alright?" he calls after you.
You glance over your shoulder, meeting his eyes one last time. "Wouldn’t dream of it."
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tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!
mini nat's note: lowkey want to make this a series...like this was so fun to write and i have a few more ideas...let me know chickens <3
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flwrstqr · 2 days ago
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★ ENHYPEN WHEN YOU GET IN A DATING RUMOR WITH OTHER IDOL.
────𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬, when you get in a dating scandal and your boyfriend is not so happy about it
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✶ INTRODUC𝓲NG ⦂ idol!enhypen ୨୧ idol!reader 。。 fluff, one shot, ⟡​ 11OO tw. skinship jealousy petnames && ARCHiVE / ૮ ♡◞ ◟ ა
` ( ´ ▽ ` ) ♡ : PLEASE REBLOG & GIVE FEEDBACK !
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𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆
heeseung tries to play it cool when he sees fans shipping you with another male idol, but the small pout on his lips betrays him. “so, that’s the new thing now?” he teases as he scrolls through the hashtag, his thumb hovering over a particularly popular edit of you and the other idol. you giggle, leaning over to steal his phone, but he pulls you closer instead, wrapping an arm around your waist. “it’s kinda funny,” you say, cupping his face to make him look at you instead of the screen. “you’re the only one i’m actually with, you know that, right?” his lips twitch into a shy smile, his forehead resting against yours. “yeah, but do they know that?” he murmurs before pecking your lips, “besides, i’m way cuter than him, right, baby?”
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐀𝐘
jay spots the edits on his feed, his eyebrow quirking as he watches fans swoon over the idea of you and another male idol. “huh, interesting,” he mutters, pretending to be unfazed, though the way he clings to your side says otherwise. you notice and nudge him, grinning. “don’t tell me you’re jealous, baby.” he scoffs, pulling you closer by your waist. “jealous? me? nah, i just think they’ve got it all wrong,” he says, brushing his nose against yours. you chuckle, threading your fingers through his hair. “it’s cute, though, you getting all pouty like this.” he clicks his tongue. “i’m not pouty. just making sure they know you’re mine—i mean, not theirs.” he grins cheekily before kissing your temple. “besides, you and i are the real power couple, sweetheart.”
𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄
you’re scrolling through your phone backstage when jake plops down beside you, leaning his chin on your shoulder. “what’s got you so distracted, angel?” he asks casually, though his eyes quickly catch the screen showing a trending clip of you laughing with another male idol. his lips press into a firm line, and you suppress a giggle. “you’re pouting, jake,” you tease, nudging him lightly. “no, i’m just pursing my lips,” he retorts, though his gaze doesn’t leave the screen. you turn to face him fully, cupping his cheeks to tilt his head toward you. “you’re cute when you’re jealous, you know that?” his face softens as you press a quick kiss to his cheek, and he sighs, his arms wrapping loosely around your waist. “not jealous,” he mumbles, voice betraying his words. “just... reminding you who makes you smile the most.”
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍
you catch sunghoon scrolling through his phone, his expression unreadable as he stumbles upon yet another edit of you and the male idol you’ve been getting shipped with lately. he glances at you, sprawled out on the couch beside him, completely unaware. "y/n," he starts, voice low and casual, "what's so great about him anyway? he doesn't even know your favorite ice cream flavor." you giggle at his words, but he’s already leaning closer, resting his head on your shoulder as he scrolls pass articles. "besides," he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from your face, "i look way better standing next to you." your cheeks flush, and he smirks, planting a soft kiss on your temple. "they should be making edits of us instead," he quips, pulling you closer as if daring anyone to disagree.
𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎
sunoo’s lips pout slightly as he scrolls through his phone, the sight of your name alongside another male idol's trending yet again. “they don’t know you’re mine, sunshine,” he mutters, his voice soft but laced with a hint of envy. you glance at him from across the room, noticing the way he fiddles with the hem of his sweater. slipping beside him, you lean your head on his shoulder, your hand finding his. “you know they’re just fans having fun, right?” you tease, intertwining your fingers with his. his pout deepens, but his thumb brushes over your knuckles, a silent reassurance that he’s okay. “still… it’s annoying,” he admits quietly, resting his head atop yours. you laugh softly, planting a quick kiss on his cheek. “
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍
jungwon tries to brush it off when your name gets linked with another male idol, but it eats away at him more than he'd like to admit. he watches the fancams, his jaw tightening every time fans comment about your “chemistry” with someone else. it’s not like he doesn’t trust you—he does, more than anyone—but the way people are just shipping you and this random male idol. you notice it when he gets quieter than usual, his playful teasing replaced with absentminded hums. "what’s going on in that head of yours, wonnie?" you ask, gently poking his cheek. he finally mumbles, "do you think they look better with you?" you cup his face, pulling him close until your foreheads touch. "you’re my favorite, always," you whispers with a sweet a kiss at the end. his arms snake around you tightly. "mine too," he murmurs, smiling shyly.
𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈
riki laughs it off when fans start shipping you with another male idol, but you can tell he’s just masking his feelings. "oh, so that’s your type?" he teases, dramatically clutching his chest like he’s been betrayed. you roll your eyes, but he doesn’t let up, following you around. "should i dye my hair like his? maybe then i’ll have a chance," he jokes, his grin widening when you swat his arm. later, when it’s just the two of you, his teasing shifts to something softer. "you don’t actually think he’s cooler than me, right?" he asks, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. you smile, tugging him down by the hoodie strings so you’re eye-to-eye. "you’re irreplaceable, riki," you say, brushing your nose against his. he groans playfully, hiding his flushed cheeks in your shoulder. "ugh, you’re so cheesy, but i’ll take it since i love you."
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madamechrissy · 2 days ago
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Girl I'm Into It
NSFW- WC- 1.4k- Request for heavy petting w/Gojo! College AU, lots of dry humping, touching, and teasing, Virgin Gojo blushing and whimpering for reasons lol <3
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"Holy fuck the party's cramped." You mumble, sipping on this godawful punch in the middle of a rather insane frat party. The scent of smoke and cloyingly sweet liquor mixes with the endless amounts of men's axe body spray and cheap perfume. You look at Satoru then, shaking your head at him. "You really joining the frat, Toru?"
"Yeah, I mean why not? Suguru and Kento are."
"I know but... we play Digimon, Toru."
"Hush!" Satoru covers your mouth up quickly, looking around nervously, making you both laugh then. "You're the nerd."
"Me!?"
"You. Hey man, watch it!" Satoru shoves a dude who has bumped into you out of the way now, sighing as there are just far too many people, watching as you get nervous. "Wanna go to a room? Get away?"
"Yeah, if you don't mind?" You and Satoru had been friends forever, including now that you're in college of course, but parties weren't your thing, especially frat parties. But, you want to support Satoru in whatever he does. He leads you down the halls now, opening a room and peeking in, seeing a couple on the bed.
"Shit, sorry!" He closes the door, now opening another, grinning down at you brightly, his pretty blue eyes glittering under snowy lashes. "Got it."
"Thanks, Toru." You murmur, as he leads you in the room and shuts the door behind you both, the bed looks... questionable, so he instead sits on a big recliner, patting his long leg. You blush at the thought, hoping he can't see.
"Seat right here. The bed looks diseased." He says with a shiver of disgust, you laugh then, sitting on his thigh. You all had done this before at parties, you were good friends and it wasn't crazy but...
But Satoru's leg feels so good between your thighs.
So good you're nervous he can sense your heat, as you've both gotten older you've had more and more feelings for him. But now he's at this university, going to be in a frat, and you're over at an art school, he's right in saying you are a nerd...
"What's wrong silly?" He asks then, peeking at his phone, popping on a song, you try to relax a bit when his big hand is on your bare thigh so casually, he's leaning back to get comfortable, long legs sprawled out, pressing his thigh up even more.
"Um..." You gasp then, when your hips shift, and you feel your panties getting wet, panicking. He has on jeans thank god, maybe he doesn't notice!?
"Recharge that social battery." He teases, and you turn your head again, shifting your hips experimentally, he pauses now, lips parted, pouty pink ones you want to kiss so damn bad. "Fuck... you're..."
"Sorry, shit." You stand now, then look down in horror at the wet spot on his light blue jeans, covering your face in embarrassment. He gulps then, running a thumb over the sticky wetness, exhaling, blue eyes locked on it. "I'll leave-"
"Stop, it's normal yeah?" He laps it up on his thumb, moaning, and your pussy throbs around nothing. "Fuck it's... sweet?"
"It is?" You whisper, he nods then, looking up at you under those long snowy lashes, taking your hips carefully and spinning you towards him. "Gojo I've never..."
"Me either." You gasp at that, eyes wide, and he's blushing now, cheeks flushed pink on his perfect skin.
"How!? You're so popular, and gorgeous-"
"You think I'm gorgeous?" He asks, thin white brows drawn together, now you're between his thighs, his hands pressing into your hips, your entire body is reacting, your breaths quicker and quicker.
"Of course I do, Toru."
"Well I think you're pretty. So pretty." He says softly, and suddenly your hand is running through his silky white locks, as the other rests on a strong bicep over his long sleeved shirt.
"You do?" You manage to whisper, he nods, pulling you on his lap then, your thighs on either side, shaking as you kneel over him. "Toru what are..."
"Can we kiss? Please? Pretty please?" He bats his lashes, pouting, and you nod with a little nervous laugh. "I've done some things if you want me to show you?"
"Like kiss?" You whisper, lips pressing against his now, Satoru moans against your lips, you feel them, plush and firm against yours, his hot tongue slipping inside your mouth, you gasp then. You cling to his shoulders as your panties now brush against his lap, and you sink down, crying out at how good it feels, his hardness between your dripping folds.
"You're a good kisser." He murmurs, pulling back, pressing you down firmer now, and you're soaking your panties, ruining them completely, earning his groan. "I can feel how hot you are. She's so needy, hmm?" His tone goes husky, your lips part at it, gasping, your head falling back as you roll your hips again, grinding on his cock over his clothes.
"Satoru... need more." You whimper when he's kissing the tops of your breasts, then up your throat, licking and biting, bucking his hips up then, earning another cry of pleasure, heat pooling in your core. "Ngh!"
"Those sounds you make, fuck..." Satoru picks you up by your hips then, slipping a finger to your swollen clit over your panties. "They're soaked."
"Embarrassing... ah!" Satoru's little hum of satisfaction just makes you wetter, he's looking right at you, and you're drowning in that gaze, in the swirling blue depths of his eyes.
"Let me make you cum." He whispers, slipping past the elastic of your panties now, finding your soaking wet pussy with his fingers, you nearly fall apart at it, pausing your movements. He moans, hard cock shoving up more. "No, keep rocking on me."
"Y-you sure?" He nods eagerly, so you rock more on Satoru's cock, his finger rolling on your clit now in little circles, watching you, flushed cheeks, parted full lips. You kiss them as you cry out, grinding helplessly while he keeps rolling circles, then starts flicking back and forth. "Toru!"
"So wet, oh my god... so pretty..." He is urging you on more and more with every breath, every kiss, until you're about to fall, and he's sensing it, free hand grabbing your ass, shoving you further on his clothed cock, panties a sticky mess. You're dripping all the way down his finger as he's moaning, harder and harder between your lips. "Let go, I've got you."
"Toru I-"
"Cum." You scream out then, as if on command, shuddering as your wetness gushes all over, as you throb around nothing, making a mess of his finger, your panties, his jeans. He moans now, sucking on his finger before kissing you, grinding up more and more, gasping as you're trembling, clinging to him, wanting more and more...
suddenly the door knocks, and you both curse. "Go away." He grumbles, you giggle then, hips moving just a bit, and Satoru is now slipping down his zipper, you watch with a gulp as his cock is revealed, a sticky wet spot on his boxers as his pretty cock springs free, long and curved, making you wetter. " Can I... rub it on you?" He asks, you nod nervously, and Satoru now has slipped his pretty pink tip into your panties, rubbing on your engorged clit.
"Satoru!" You're gushing more and more, and he groans then, all flushed, clinging to your ass as he fucks your panties.
"F-fuck you're too wet, too hot I- ah- oh my god..." You feel something hot and sticky against you now, and you flush, looking down to see Satoru's cock is spurting hot white ropes of sticky cum agaisnt you. He rests his head on your chest, whimpering. "Fuck I'm sorry. Shit, shit shit..."
"Toru... it's okay." You whisper then, he is blushing as bad as you are when he tilts back, looking up, cupping your face gently. You place your hand down and lap some of it up, moaning. "You're yummy too."
"Fuck... let me..." Satoru picks you up then, taking off the panties he'd cum in, laughing a little nervously as you watch him, only for him to turn you and sit you on the seat, pushing your thighs apart. He fingers the sticky cum on your pussy lips, kneeling then.
"W-what are you doing?" You whisper, and he looks up at you with dilated eyes, kissing up your inner thigh.
"Gonna clean up my mess."
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Virgin Toru is new for me aha, but he's adorableee
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hyunjiisa · 2 days ago
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hey pretty boy !
skz ! members and what type of loner they’d be
incl. ot8 !
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chan as the stoner! loner
shows up to school smelling like weed but no one cares because he does all his work and never causes trouble
you make eye contact with him for the first time in the parking lot while he’s smoking, he falls in love when you smile and wave
turns down everyone that hits on him after that
when he finally musters up the courage to talk to you all he can do is tap your shoulder in the same parking lot he first saw you and ask if you smoke
no matter your answer, he asks to get to know you better
“ come on , give me a chance ? ”
follows you around like a bodyguard after that
never ever lets you carry your own bag and always makes sure you have something to eat for lunch whether he has to pay for you or not
pretty smart in most subjects so you have study dates often because he just likes your presence
won’t smoke around you if you don’t like it
never posts anything besides you and aesthetic pictures he takes
isn’t the type to fight but he will if someone disrespects you, but they back off because of his size before it gets to that point
hyunjin as the artsy! loner
has one black pen and one red pen that he abuses every day
pays attention for the most part but occasionally gets distracted doodling in his notebooks
def has drawings all over his hands
the first time he noticed you was in art class and he thought you were so pretty he started drawing you
you glance over and he’s mortified when he realizes he probably looks like a creep
too nervous to go up to you and explain so he leaves you a note with little drawings all over (plus the drawing of you) and a replacement of the pink gel pen he notices you using all the time
gets super nervous when he sees you walking up to him the next day
you ask him to partner up for a project and thank him for the drawing
“ i couldn’t help it , you’re just so pretty . ”
ends up kissing you at your last project session
asks you out with the most thoughtful basket filled with things you like and a letter with another drawing of you and almost cries when you don’t answer right away
does everything for you after you get together
the art teacher is yalls biggest fan
has no one else to cling to so he’s all over you 24/7
gives nasty glares to men who simply look at you
felix as the fashion design! loner
like hyunjin, spends most of his time sketching out designs in his scrap book where he keeps all his miniature fabric samples in
sulks because there’s no fashion club for him to join
is initially drawn to you because of an outfit you wore that he loves
eventually asks where you got your top when you wear it again and his heartstrings pull at the way you answer so sweetly and compliment his hair
after that the two of you gradually got closer and closer
you help him learn to sew and he starts planning marriage then and there (he wants to help design your wedding dress)
sews matching patches on your backpacks
you catch him texting his best friend that lives abroad about you
gets so nervous he cries
you tell him you feel the same way and he cries even harder
“ be mine ? please ? ”
just gets even clingier once you end up together
loves kissing you and laying together while he sketches
takes you out whenever you want and spoils you rotten because he has rich parents
matching outfits = fire insta pics
jeongin as the sour patch! loner
never talks to anyone so everyone thinks he’s mean but he’s really an angel
your elective teacher makes your class do a secret santa and he gets you
he gives you oddly specific gifts (he has a massive crush on you and overhears you telling your friends your wishlist) and includes a note sweet talking you
you go up to him and thank him with a kiss on the cheek and he turns red
he asks you to hang out and pays for brunch and the cutest pottery painting date
“ will you go out with me ? n-not like that ! ”
gets the teacher to move you two to sit next to each other
everyone’s a little surprised when they see how he’s so gentle with you
decides he needs to get over himself and ask you out and gets you a pandora charm bracelet and a pretty bouquet of flowers
pampers you with your favorite snacks or meals randomly, refills of makeup you use, randomly does your homework for you
flips off ur exes and flexes on them when you aren’t looking then turns around to kiss you
is at your house 24/7 because he can’t breathe without you but is supportive when you go out with your friends or need a solo day
loves going to the beach with you and carrying you so your feet don’t get sandy
jisung as the nerdy! loner
has good grades and the teachers remember his name because his work is always on time
eats alone in the library because he has no one to sit with
you walk in on him while picking up a book you need and he’s super embarrassed (he’s had a crush on you since middle school)
you ask to sit with him because you think he’s cute and he trips over his words answering you
you spend lunch with him every day after that and he starts packing a lunch for you too
accidentally confesses he has a fat crush on you when you ask if he has a girlfriend
he starts rambling after and shuts up when he notices you’re giggling at him
you kiss him and he swears his lifelong dream has come true
“ i like , really like you . ”
is the sweetest boyfriend ever
does all your homework for you and insists it’s really no problem
drives you to and from school every day because “that’s what boyfriends are for”
never looks at anyone but you and writes down threats and shoves them in guys lockers when they hit on you
minho as the gym! loner
purposefully gets his free period after his weightlifting class so he can spend two periods working out
isn’t really shy, just doesn’t like anyone enough to have friends
girls check him out occasionally but he always ignores them
catches you freaking out when you have no clothes to change in and offers you his shirt because he thinks you’re cute
uses that as an excuse to mess with you
“ if i can bench you , you owe me a date ”
spoiler, he can.
makes sure to tell you you don’t really owe him anything and he’s just messing with you
you agree to the date and he picks you up and takes you on a surprisingly thoughtful date
drive around town, food and watching the sunset, takes your pictures next to pretty flowers and keeps his arm around you the whole time
asks you if you really have to go when he’s dropping you off
walks you to your door and gives you a hug (he’s never dated anyone and too scared to kiss you)
texts you that he had a really good time and he would “work to make you his”
it doesn’t take much work and he kisses you right after he asks you to be his
is way too proud of his build and wears sleeveless shirts just to scare anyone that looks at you
carries you around any chance he gets
seungmin as the music lover! loner
walks around with his headphones in 24/7
hums to himself quietly while he studies
you ask him about a song he was humming and he’s surprised you were talking to him
you think he hates you till he smiles at you when you walk into class
makes you a playlist to make his move on you
doesn’t know how to tell you he likes you at all so he just kinda teases you to flirt with you
takes you to a record store at lunch because he wanted to show you the spot
stares at you a little too hard so you ask him if he wants a kiss as a joke
says yes and moves your hair out of your face, you guys have a make out sesh and only stop when the owner clears his throat awkwardly at the both of you
“ so , if i ask you to be mine what are the chances of you saying yes ? ”
you make him go back inside alone and buy you the vinyl you want
he comes back out with it and 5 more that you didn’t wanna ask for but knows you wanted anyway
you skip the rest of the day and go to his house and use his record player
you fall asleep on him and he takes 0.5s of you
shares his headphones with you, but doesn’t share his food (until you make a sad face at him and he gives in instantly. works every time.)
changbin as the sweetheart! loner
all of his professors adore him, all the school staff does at this point
has the maximum hours of community service that he can have but won’t stop helping around where he can
notices you from the start because he thinks you’re pretty, but really starts liking you when he sees you volunteer at an elementary school
accidentally scares you coming up behind you when you’re hanging a banner
you guys start helping at the same places and make a tradition of hanging up banners together
after a while he figures he might as well just tell you how he feels, is elated when you hug him and tell him the feelings mutual
“ oh thank god . ”
confesses that he was actually really nervous and gets flustered when you tease him about it because he thinks you’re the prettiest
when you ask why he never hangs out with anyone he says he doesn’t like people with unpure hearts and that’s why he loves you so much
definitely takes you out and buys you guys matching stuff
married couple
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅
a/n: i’m not pushing any of these narratives onto them, it’s just dif scenarios i wanted to write them in ᡣ𐭩
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reysdriver · 3 days ago
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Apple Of My Eye | E.M.
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You and your coworker Eddie finally do something about your longtime mutual crush when he asks you out after a wild day at work — line cook!eddie x waitress!reader fluff
warnings: customer service nightmares, reader cries over it, I think that's it actually
words: 4.8k
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The last thing you heard before shutting the walk-in freezer door behind you was a pan dropping to the floor and Eddie cursing loudly at no one in particular. You sat down with your back against a sack of potatoes beside the vegetable shelf. 
The tears that pricked at your eyes were free to run down your face now that you were in the privacy of the walk-in. It’s always been a good place to cry or scream if you were frustrated at work. 
You were slightly startled by the heavy door opening, but you knew you shouldn’t be; other people worked here too, of course. 
It was Eddie walking in, looking frustrated, though his expression softened when he locked eyes with you. 
“Are you okay? What happened?” He asked, letting the door close as he sat down next to you.
You scooted a bit to make more room for Eddie, but still brushed him off.
“I’m okay.” You sniffled, looking down at your feet. “Don’t you have a whole bunch of orders to fill?”
“You know I’m never too busy for you.” He replied, which earned a smile from you. 
It was a true thing, Eddie would always take the time, even in the busiest of rush hours, to compliment you, or make you a special plate of fries, or just let you know that your makeup had smudged in all the haste. 
He never did it with anyone else, not to the same level, at least. All your coworkers used that as proof that he had a thing for you in the same way that you did for him, but you never believed them. 
“So, what’s wrong, sweetheart?”
There he goes, using that nickname that makes your heart soar. Now how could you not answer him after he asked as nicely as that?
“Some asshole got mad at me ‘cause I forgot he asked for no vegetables on his burger. He was calling me dumb and saying I’m a bad waitress and—”
“You’re not.” Eddie told you. “Don’t listen to him.”
 One look at Eddie’s pretty brown eyes told you he was being completely sincere, but you were still upset. 
“He was so mean, and he was kind of right.” You protested. 
Eddie shook his head. “Trust me, he’s not. You’re the only coworker I can stand, so you must be doing something right. Plus you just got your degree, so you’re not dumb.”
“It was community college, Eddie.”
“More than I have. Are you calling me dumb?” He nudged you slightly as he teased, and he was finally cheering you up. 
“No.” You shook your head, a bashful smile starting on your face. 
“Good.” He smiled too, happy that his mission of cheering you up was complete. “Now, I would wipe your tears, but my hands are probably covered in oil so I’m gonna need you to do it for me, okay?”
You nodded and used your index finger to wipe the tears under your eyes and on your cheeks. 
The line cook had his eyes trained on you when you looked up back at him, your eyes still glossy but your spirits higher. 
“How are you feeling now?”
“Better.” You admitted with a soft smile. “Thank you, Eddie.”
“Anytime, princess.” He attempted to stifle a groan as he stood up, then stopped before opening the metal door. “I’ll tell Robin to cover your tables for a bit, so don’t worry about getting back to work. You can stay here as long as you want.”
After thanking him again, he flashed you a smile before exiting the freezer room. 
You stayed sitting there, replaying the conversation you just had once over in your head. Once you felt you were composed, you dusted off your clothes and reentered the kitchen. 
Though, as soon as you left the freezer, you could hear shouting coming from the front of house and you knew exactly who it was. 
See, after Eddie left the freezer, when you were busy wiping your tears, Eddie rifled through the receipts to find exactly the guy who made you cry. Not that he needed it anyways, it was obvious who the asshole was when he walked out to the tables and saw some angry looking loser picking at his french fries. 
Now Eddie was in the middle of shaming the man in front of the whole diner. 
Customers had their heads turned to watch the public scolding, and all the staff had paused their duties to stare from the sides of the room as well. 
“What the hell’s the matter with you? You’re a grown man and you can’t even bear to pick some tomatoes off your burger? You need to whine about the lingering taste of fuckin’ lettuce and make your poor waitress feel like shit?!” Eddie shouted at the guy you were serving. “You better give her one hell of an apology, you hear me?!”
The man nodded pathetically, clearly shaken by the cook’s rant. He probably couldn’t muster up an agreement even if he tried. 
Robin, who you had stood next to while watching Eddie chew that customer out, turned to you. She hardly looked flustered at all, since she was used to the diner’s usual activities. 
“And you still doubt that he likes you back.” She whispered with a smugly raised eyebrow. 
Eddie looked around the room for a moment and noticed you were there. With an outstretched hand and a soft voice, he beckoned you towards him and the man at the booth. 
“Sweetheart, can you come over here for a second?” He asked, ever so politely. 
You obliged and walked over to him, holding your breath as the threat of crying again was still there. 
Standing at the end of the table, Eddie’s gaze panned from you to the slightly terrified man sitting down. 
“Now’s the time for that apology, dickwad.” Your coworker gritted. 
The man struggled to look you in the eyes as he stuttered out some words of regret. “I’m sorry— Er, I’m sorry for complaining about the burger and saying all that rude stuff, too. I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you.”
The line cook looked over at you, gauging your reaction. “How was that?”
You nodded and flashed him a tiny smile, then told the customer that you accepted his apology. 
“Good.” Eddie declared. “Now I’ll go make you a plain, boring burger. And if you’re really sorry then this pretty girl better see a damn good tip when you finish your meal, got it?”
The man nodded meekly once again, and Eddie seemed satisfied with that. He walked back on over to the kitchen while you made your way to your other tables, and the rest of the diner resumed eating and conversing—definitely discussing what just happened.
For the rest of his meal, the man was nice to you. Avoidant for sure, but nice nevertheless. And when he paid, he left a whopping twenty dollar tip and left in a hurry. 
Now that the lunch rush was over, you checked the kitchen for Eddie, then Jonathan informed you that he was out back taking a smoke break. 
You thanked him, and headed to the back exit of the building where you knew the cook spent a part of every shift. Sure enough, he was standing right next to the door with a cigarette in hand. 
“Hey, princess,” Eddie said, exhaling a cloud of smoke away from you. “what are you doing back here?”
You smiled at him and fished the twenty dollar bill out of your pocket to display it. “That guy you yelled at left me a pretty nice tip. Here, it’s yours.”
He shook his head and held out a hand to gesture that he couldn’t take it. “No way, you deserve it. Fuckin’ least you should get after having to deal with that asshole.”
You laughed at his dismissal and tried offering again. 
“Come on, you practically mugged that guy to get this money, you have to take it.”
He looked at you with a slight grin, but you couldn’t decide if his expression was that of smugness or entertainment. 
“You can hold out that cash until your wrist falls off, I won’t take your money.”
You let out an exasperated sigh, sincere but still purposefully overdramatic. You put the bill back in your apron and quickly counted out ten ones that you had earned from other tables, then held those out instead. 
“You should at least have half. I can’t let you leave with nothing. If you don’t take it now, I’ll follow you around all day, begging you to take it.” 
Eddie cocked his head to the side and smiled. “As tempting as that is, sweetheart, I can’t steal you away from your job like that. I’ll take that money, but I’ll be spending it on you.” 
Your heart fluttered at Eddie’s flirting, which was far less subtle than usual. You had to bite the tip of your tongue to prevent yourself from grinning ear-to-ear. 
He reached out to take the cash, but he was still grinning mischievously. 
“With my half of the cash, I wanna take you on a date, if you’ll let me.”
Holy shit. You never thought he’d ask. And you had expected even less that he would ask in such a gentlemanly manner. Eddie was the type of guy to accidentally tell his boss to fuck off after coming into work hungover, not use the phrase ‘if you’ll let me’. 
“I’d like that.” You responded, way more chill than you had expected your reaction to be. “Anything you have in mind?”
“You trying to expose the fact that I’ve thought about this before?” Eddie smirked, which in turn caused you to blush even more than before. “What time do you get off work tonight?”
“Seven, and you?”
“Same. We can rent a movie and I can make you dinner at my place?” 
Shit, Eddie thought, I don’t remember the state I left my trailer in. 
He tried recalling how messy he left his home, quickly so he could take back the offer if needed. 
“Yeah, sounds great.” 
Too late now. But as nervous as he was for you to walk into his trailer and see a bunch of dirty dishes and laundry piles, the feeling of glee he felt because you said yes was trumping that a hundred times over. 
“Perfect.” Eddie said, stamping out his burnt cigarette. He opened the door back to the restaurant and held it open so you could go first. “After you.”
“Thanks.” You said, barely able to hide your giddy grin. “I gotta get back to my tables, but I’ll see you at seven.”
You both parted ways with matching smiles, hoping the rest of your shifts fly by faster than usual. For the rest of the day, you seemed to have an extra pep in your step while you waited tables. 
As seven o’clock approached, you passed off all your tables to other coworkers, told Steve and Robin you wouldn’t need a ride home, and headed to the washroom to fix your hair and touch up your makeup. 
Once you were satisfied, you headed to the locker room, where Eddie was standing casually against his own locker. His bored expression morphed into a bright look when he saw you walk in. 
“Hey.” Eddie said as you opened your locker and put away your apron. “Ready to go?” 
You nodded, and he opened the door for you once again. Such a gentleman when he wants to be. 
“So, any movie ideas?” He asked as you both got into his van. 
“Something fun.” You told him. “Maybe something like Ferris Bueller's Day Off or Splash?” 
“Anything you want.”
For the ride over to the video store, you listened to the radio—a station with both pop and rock—and chatted about everything under the sun. 
Once you got to Family Video, you headed towards the comedy section whereas Eddie got distracted by a display of staff picks near the front. He called your name, and you turned around to see him holding up The Texas Chain Saw Massacre with a simper. 
“This can be fun, don’t you think?”
You shook your head. “Not if we’re eating tonight. I’ll throw up everywhere. And that’s not the kind of thing that earns a second date.”
He put it down and walked towards the aisle you were standing in. “So you’re already thinking about a second date, huh?” 
You rolled your eyes and went back to browsing the shelves. Your eyes landed on a familiar favourite, so you grabbed it and held it up to show Eddie. 
“Clue, huh?” He raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you couldn’t do murder movies?”
“No, I just said I couldn’t do that one. This one is hilarious and agreeable.”
“Alright. Hand it over, I already promised to pay for whatever you want.”
You give the tape to him like he asked and you both walk over to the cashier, a teenager who looked extremely disdainful about his job. Eddie pulled out some of the cash you had made him take earlier and placed it on the counter. 
Once the transaction was over, you thanked both Eddie and the bored worker, then you headed back out to Eddie’s car. 
“So, what meal are you going to spend the remaining five dollars and something cents on?” You asked him, buckling yourself as he rolled out of the parking lot. 
Eddie always hated his seatbelt, but he put it on after you—’cause of that damn new law they put in last year.
“I’ll put that in my pocket and save it for the next date. I already have all I need for dinner at home.”
You hummed, slightly surprised. 
“What?” 
“Nothing.” You shrugged. “I just wouldn’t have pegged you as a chef outside of the diner. You always seem like you’re done with cooking forever when you clock out.”
“You’ve got me there.” Eddie responds. “I only cook at home when it’s for someone else. When I’m alone, my meals are mostly toast and canned pasta.”
“So who else were you planning on cooking for? You said you have all those ingredients.” That was half teasing, half genuinely curious about Eddie’s personal life. 
“My uncle, actually. I cook him dinner once a week, mostly ‘cause it proves to him that I can eat healthy.”
“That’s really sweet.”
“What can I say?” Eddie shrugged dramatically. “I’m just a sweet guy.”
Once you arrived at Eddie’s trailer, he was relieved to open the door and see that his place hadn’t been left in shambles. The place wasn’t as neat as he would like for a first date—especially one with you—but it was good enough. 
“So, this is it.” Eddie said, arms outstretched like a real estate agent. “You want a tour or is that just for stuffy old people?”
“I’ll take a tour.”
Eddie was kind of hoping you didn’t say that. The trailer was small and he was a little embarrassed. But he supposed it was his own fault for asking in the first place. 
“Alright. Here’s the living room, it’s where I smoke and watch TV.” 
You let out a giggle at the bluntness of his tour. He was glad his joke (half-joke) didn’t fall flat. 
“And you can follow me three feet to the kitchen, which is where I make good meals for others and crap for myself.”
He opened a cupboard full of canned food and snacks for the realtor effect, then did the same with the fridge. He waved a hand near it like a magician showing off a box that no longer contains a woman in a sparkly leotard. 
“We can then move on to the bathroom. It’s got a shower with mediocre water pressure, a pretty average toilet, and a sink that’s covered in toothpaste—don’t look at that, actually.”
You kept walking to the only other real room in the trailer, his bedroom. It was about the size of the kitchen area, and it was very distinctly Eddie. All the walls were covered floor-to-ceiling in posters for metal bands and movies he likes, every surface was covered in snack boxes and ashtrays, and he had one incredibly cool guitar hanging in the middle of his wall. 
After staring at the room for so long that you probably had at least one wall memorised, you and Eddie both realised you hadn’t spoken in a while. 
“This is where the magic happens.” Eddie said, not quite as smoothly as he was going for. 
“The magic?” You teased. 
He thought for a second, then clarified. “Not that kind of magic. I just make music and write Dungeons & Dragons campaigns.”
“That can be pretty magical.” You shrugged. 
“Yeah, but not as magical as the dinner I’m about to make for you. If you’re not excited already, you should start.”
You both left his bedroom and Eddie instructed you to relax in the living room and turn on the TV to something you could use as a backdrop while Eddie cooked. 
While he made dinner, you sat comfortably on his couch and chatted with him from the other room. You got to know each other, more than you do at work. Eddie told you about his band and how they play at The Hideout, you told him about your time at community college and your friends outside of the diner. 
“Alright, soup’s on.” Eddie announced, setting two plates on his kitchen table and inviting you over. “Actually, it’s not soup, it’s chicken parm.”
“I appreciate the clarification.” You sat down in the seat closest to you. “It looks good. Smells amazing too.”
And it really was as amazing as it seemed. Although you were no stranger to Eddie’s cooking, all you’ve ever had made by him was diner food. Of course, the diner food was great, but this was another level. You weren’t sure what set it apart; maybe it was just the quality ingredients and lack of yelling while cooking. 
Once your plate was almost empty, Eddie asked if you wanted dessert too. You were slightly confused as you hadn’t seen him make any dessert to go along with the meal, but you agreed anyway. 
“Did you make dessert?” You asked after he stood up. 
“Nope, but I’ve got all the ingredients, so I can make it now.”
“Oh.” You suddenly felt bad, even though he already offered and went through with making you food. “Well, I don’t want to put you out. We can just watch—”
“It’s okay. I don’t have the ingredients for anything fancy. Just the simple stuff.”
That made you feel a little better. You were still curious, but for a different reason now. What could Eddie make quickly to pair with that fantastic dinner. 
You watched as he pulled out Oreos and gummy worms. Was he making a child’s favourite snack as your dessert?
“What are you planning there?” You asked him. 
Then you saw him open the fridge and pull out chocolate pudding cups, then it all clicked in your head. 
Holy shit. Worms and Dirt. 
That was absolutely not what you were expecting, but it was definitely a welcome surprise. 
“I was thinking about just serving up sliced apples and peanut butter along with some cheesy pick-up line like ‘you’re the apple of my eye’, but I figured that would scare you away.” 
“I don’t think that would scare me away.” You told him. “In fact, I would have found it cute. But I’m happy with the pudding.”
Eddie was quite flattered by that, though he tried hard to not let it show. You could definitely see a blush on his cheeks and the corners of his lips turning upwards, as much as he covered it up.
“You ever had Worms and Dirt?” He asked, opening up the Oreo pack. 
“Yeah.” You answered from your seat at the table while he scraped off the cookie filling. “My mom used to make it for me when I was a kid.”
Eddie stopped preparing the food for a second as he turned and gave you a genuine smile. 
“Me too.” 
After that, Eddie went back to making the dessert, the happy expression still lingering on his lips. 
“I’m almost done, do you want to pop the movie in while I’m finishing up?”
You nodded, then waltzed over to the living room to start up Clue. While the opening credits rolled, Eddie took a seat next to you on the couch and spread out a couple bowls and several pudding cups on his coffee table. 
He handed you a spoon and gestured to the setup in front of you two. 
“I figured we could do like a make-your-own thing, just ‘cause I always find one is never enough, and then you can choose your portions, you know?”
You hummed in agreement. “It’s a pretty good idea.”
Eddie then pointed to the bowl in between the cookie crumble and gummy worms. Inside that one was the creme filling he had just scraped out of the Oreos. 
“Oh, and that’s for you.” 
Just like Eddie earlier, you were super flattered but didn’t want to show your cards. You thanked him for saving you the best part, and then the two of you made your desserts and brought your attention to the movie. 
Somewhere along the way while watching it, you and Eddie had moved from your spots on opposite ends of the couch to meeting somewhere in the middle, wrapped up with each other. 
You were pressed against his side with a hand on his back and an arm around his abdomen. He had his arm slung around your shoulder, and you liked it. He liked it too. And truth be told, you had both pictured yourself before in this exact position—among others. 
As Wadsworth dramatically ran through each murder and event of the night, Eddie subtly looked down to see your entertained expression trained on the TV screen. 
Even though Eddie quite liked the movie you were watching, he liked you more. He was trying to think of a way to make a bigger move on you instead of actually paying attention. 
He was about to do it too. Just as his hands started to wander, there was a knock at his front door that caused you both to back off of each other and turn your heads that way. 
“It’s probably just some kid looking for weed. I’ll be back in a second, you don’t need to pause it.” Eddie told you as he stood up.
“Okay. Hurry up or you’ll miss the ending!” You told him. 
He opened the door and sure enough, it was a kid looking for weed. Some high schooler, maybe seventeen years old. In one hand, he had a couple crumpled bills, and the other one was in his pocket. 
“Someone told me to come here for… stuff.” The kid said to Eddie. 
“Okay, how much do you want?” Eddie replied. 
The boy looked confused, thinking it through. 
“I don’t know.” He finally answered. “I was just told to bring money.” 
“Okay, well I’ve got someone over and you’re wasting my time a little bit. How about you just hand me that money, and I’ll bring you whatever that’s worth?”
“Okay.” 
The kid handed over the cash and Eddie told him to stay at the door while he counted the money and walked over to his bedroom. 
He came out with a small baggie in his hand and flashed you a quick apologetic grin before facing the kid again. 
“There you go. Enjoy.” 
Eddie shut the door behind him and walked back to the couch to sit with you again, just as the movie was wrapping up. 
“I’m sorry about that. I was hoping tonight could go interrupted, but that’s never the case, right?” 
“Yeah, it’s alright. I didn’t know you still dealt.”
The staff at the diner was pretty close-knit, and you had heard lots about Eddie selling drugs in high school, but you had figured that was in the past. You weren’t judging, though. People do what they can to pay the bills—you were both working in a diner at the edge of your crappy town, you know all about that. 
“I don’t really. Just from time to time, I guess.” Eddie shrugged. “Does that bother you?”
“No. Everyone’s gotta do what they can in life. I don’t have a problem, as long as you’re okay with it.” 
“Cool.”
You both just looked at each other for a second, not sure what to say now. Eddie missed the perfect opportunity to make the move he wanted to make on you earlier, and now the movie was over. 
You both silently cursed yourself for not doing what you really wanted to do earlier, but the mood was interrupted by a kid at the door wanting to get high. 
Although you wanted to stay at Eddie’s place for longer, you knew the night was coming to a natural end. 
“I should probably get home soon. I have work in the morning.” 
Eddie was mentally kicking himself for not doing anything earlier, but he definitely wasn’t going to try and convince you to stay since he was aware how that could make him seem. 
“Yeah, okay. I can drive you home.” He stood up and grabbed his car keys from the counter. “You know, Steve’s probably already getting his beauty sleep or something.”
You thanked Eddie and strolled over to him, who was holding the door open for you. 
The two of you walked out to his van, and you slid into the same seat where you had begun the evening. Eddie sat down next to you and flashed you a quick smile before starting the car. 
The ride back to your place was, for the most part, quiet and awkward; it was a sad change from the chemistry you were feeling just an hour ago. 
When you arrived back home, Eddie stopped the car, but you spoke before you got out and the night would be officially over. 
“Thanks for tonight, Eddie. I think we should do this again.”
He looked flustered for a moment. It was no more than a second, but you caught it anyway.
“Well, thanks for saying yes, sweetheart. Are you doing anything Sunday?”
“I have a shift in the morning, but I’m done by the early afternoon.”
“Perfect.” Eddie smiled. “I’ll think of something for us to do then.”
You unbuckled your seatbelt as you badly masked a grin. 
“Okay. It’s a date.”
Eddie opened the door on his side, and so you followed suit. 
“You want me to walk you back?” Eddie offered. 
You stood a foot and a half away from Eddie beside his van and looked back to your apartment building. 
“Steve and Robin are probably pressed against the peephole right now, so I don’t know.”
Eddie ran his hand through his hair and shook his head amusedly. “Ah, I see. You’ve already got people looking out for you?”
You hummed, biting your lip softly. 
“So…” You trailed off. 
“So?” Eddie raised an eyebrow. 
That’s when you finally took your chance. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Eddie’s cheek, just by the corner of his mouth. 
You backed away, and Eddie seemed flustered but happy, so you knew it went well. 
“Thanks again. I’ll see you at work, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Eddie said quietly. “See you.”
It wasn’t often that Eddie flustered like that. Usually he was calm and collected, or at least yelling, if we’re talking about being in the kitchen at the diner. But very rarely did Eddie blush, and that’s exactly what he did after you kissed him. 
He guessed that it made a lot of sense that you could be the one to make him feel things that no one else can. 
Eddie watched as you walked over to the front of your building and gave him a wave before going inside. His thoughts were moving so fast, he can’t even remember if he waved back. Damn, he hopes he waved back. 
Then, as soon as you were inside and you were both out of each other’s sight, Eddie had to let out his excitement. He took a step out and threw his head forward, shouting at the top of his lungs. 
He stopped the moment he realised you might be able to hear him, and quickly went back into his van. Then he started shouting inside the privacy of those metal walls. 
Eddie was really excited about seeing you tomorrow. 
Little to Eddie’s knowledge, you were just as excited as him, if not even more.
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cherrybr4t · 2 days ago
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ex for a reason — choi seungcheol (+18)
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cheol feels a wave of possessiveness when he sees your ex-boyfriend!
warnings: unprotected sex, fingering (f rec), sl*t, degradation (f rec), daddy cheol!, spanking, tit playing, jealousy! est. relationship, a little possessiveness haha, creampie, that’s all i think! ok enjoy <3
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if seungcheol could pinpoint exactly why he, too, is a creature bound to the notion of possessiveness — he would. except, at this point of time, all he feels is rage.
not at you — no, no not at all. how could he ever be angry at his princess? the poor guy falling victim to his fiery glares would be your ex-boyfriend. said ex-boyfriend — mingyu, was definitely too buzzed to notice the hard daggers thrown at him.
you however, are quick to notice the switch in tension after mingyu came over to give you a hug, gushing over how it’s been forever since you’ve last met. you return the kind smile. after all you and him did end on cordial terms.
that ticks something off in seungcheol’s head. the way mingyu’s arms seemed too familiar — too comfortable snaking around you. all while he was standing there right beside you.
he shakes hands with mingyu, squeezing a little too tight until he notices the wince on that pretty boy’s face. head’s too busy thinking about the fact that he’s held you close under his covers before.
“baby, you all right?” you squeeze the hands that are tightly wrapped around your waist.
seungcheol hums, “yeah baby, just a little tired is all,” he reassures, leaving a peck on your temple. you narrow your eyes, knowing he’s withholding words from you.
“y’sure? we can leave early — anytime you wanna,” raising your brows at him, offering an exit.
“no baby, i’m fine. it’s your friend’s birthday after all, let’s stay a while more — enjoy this bottle of whiskey she has,” he lifts up the $3000 bottle off the table top, waving it slightly.
seungcheol self soothes. he thinks he’s got it all under control, it’s not like you’ve got residual feelings attached to mingyu — its been almost two years. but with the way mingyu keeps gazing over towards you, with that fucking smirk, seungcheol thinks he’s about to lose it.
the party is in full swing — party hits back to back, loud chatting over the speakers, with people dancing around. he sees mingyu start to make his way across the room towards the both of you.
without much thought, seungcheol pulls you in closer — if even possible, grabs your hand and leads you to a room. a guest room which you recognise due to the nights spent in your friend’s house.
“cheol, baby? what’s wrong?” you catch your breath, looking up at him and furrowing your eyebrows.
cheol tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. he looks at you tenderly, before deciding to come clean. it’s not the first time he’s informed you of how jealousy tends to cloud his mind.
“i…just couldn’t stand your ex being there. standing there looking at you, as if i’m not there right beside you — was fucking pissing me off,” he sighs out, leaning his forehead against yours, body to body.
you let out a small chuckle, “baby, you know how he is… plus the only man i’ve ever looked at the whole night — is standing right in front of me right now. he’s all i wanna look at.” you nibble on your bottom lip, hoping seungcheol catches every nuance of sincerity you’re projecting.
“yeah? i know baby.. sorry it’s just, i can’t help it. want him to back off. want him to know who you belong to now,” his voice barely above a whisper.
you gaze up, giving his plump lips a kiss. a simple peck which turned into sucking, biting and licking — which was the case all of the time because who could resist and pull away from those lips?
he kisses you back with even more urgency, even more passion and love — and you feel him take charge, grabbing your nape to pull you in closer. he wants to taste all of you, every inch and spot — he wants it all. wants the reassurance that you’re now his and only his to hold, to touch, to pleasure.
“you’re all mine aren’t you,” he growls out mid kiss, grabbing you by your chin, staring so deep into your eyes you feel the need seeping into you from his gaze alone.
“always have been, cheol.”
his heart settles at your voice. knows you’re his. but hearing it makes him feel a whole ‘nother level of complete. loves when you play to his possessive selfish desires.
“fuck,” he mutters to himself before sitting himself down on the edge of the bed, pulling you down to straddle above him.
he pushes and combs your hair to the back, hands rubbing up and down your body, hands claiming what’s his. he takes in your silhouette in front of him — sitting so prettily, just waiting to be devoured by him.
“you’re too beautiful baby, hate the thought of someone else getting to see you the way i do,” he removes the strap of your top, teasing slowly as he starts to pull your top above your stomach.
you raise your hands, letting him remove your top. he hisses, sucks in a sharp breath, noticing you went braless for the night.
“braless tonight baby? thank god it was warm out there. imagine if these,” he tugs on both nipples harshly, “were to stand if it were cold,” he releases them, rubbing over your hard nipples softly in circles with his thumb. “then that ex boyfriend of yours would’ve been able to see what’s mine, wouldn’t he.”
you whimper at the hard and soft sensation on your nipples, knowing he’s going gentle on you now.
“you’d like that baby? want him to see you like that?” he slaps across your tits, tainting the soft flesh with his print. you let out a whine, “n-no…don’t want him to,”
“yeah? it’s for my eyes only, right baby?” his hand inches towards your core, completely exposed under your mini skirt by the way you’re sitting.
he rubs his fingers over your panties, smirking at the wet patch he feels on your center.
“so wet baby, thinking about me or thinking about him?”
you frown and gasped at him indignantly, “you. baby — i don’t understa—” he slaps your cunt, soothing it immediately afterwards with a few gentle rubs across your core.
he knows it’s him, knows only he can get you so dippy — likes a confirmation of it anyways.
he pulls you in for another heated kiss while his fingers continue to stay busy toying with your clothed cunt. your warm cunt that he wants to drown in all the time.
“remove your panties and go on all fours for me baby,” he grabs your hips, lifting you off him. you silently think of ways to apologise to your friend before getting comfortable on the bed, just clad in your mini skirt.
seungcheol groans at the supple flesh of your ass spilling out of the short fabric. pulling you closer to the edge, he grips onto the flesh. fingers tense, possessiveness dripping down his fingertips. needs to feel you on every active nerve to remind himself that you’re solely his.
he dives in to give one long lick up your soaked cunt. you moan out his name, and he groans out how fucking wet you are.
“fuck baby, i think if i were to fuck you right now my cock would slide right in,” he settles for his fingers for now, feeling the way your walls immediately tighten around his finger.
“cheol…daddy, want more..” you push your hips back, wiggling your ass in his face. he slaps a harsh one down your cheeks, and you wince, whimpering slightly.
“greedy slut. think you deserve more? letting your ex boyfriend hug you like that,” he says that but inserts two fingers in this time. bottoming out to his knuckles, curling his fingers.
“d-don’t be angry daddy, you know i only want daddy… want you only…” you beg, breath hitching every time he hits the spot all the way inside.
“show me baby, tell daddy how much you want him.” he sees you look over your shoulders, eyes wide and sweat starting to form on the edge of your hairline.
the cocky look on his face has you tightening around his fingers. him fully clothed, fingers deep inside you while you lay so pliantly for him. you would do anything for this man. and so would he.
“please daddy, want you to make me cum. need your cock.” gripping onto the bedsheets tighter as you feel him sneakily insert a third finger.
“yeah baby? doesn’t seem like you want it that bad. i’ve heard you beg better.” he coos. he knows you could go louder — loud enough for him and the other guests to possibly hear. needs to set him straight.
you whine. god. frustration starting to boil and mix with the immense pleasure in your core. you know how cheol is. how he can get mean in bed.
“want—want you to fuck me daddy. please. need you so bad. please please cheol,” your voice breaks. you feel his other hand reach from behind to tug on your nipples, before reaching down to leave teasing touches to your puffy clit begging for attention.
he’s a master a multi-tasking. thinks when it comes to you, he’ll be a master at anything. anything that makes his princess feel good.
“fuck baby, making such a fucking mess. so desperate to cum aren’t you.” at this point, he’s more desperate than you to make you cum. he feels his cock growing so hard it hurts, and if he doesn’t cum inside you soon he’s going to lose it.
“fuck baby. show me why you’re my good girl yeah? cum on my fingers and i’ll think about letting you cum on my cock.” he rams his fingers so hard inside you, other hand rubbing tight and fast circles around your clit.
“cum for me baby, moan out my name nice and loud while you do yeah? let everyone know who’s making you feel good right now,”
with his urging, you snap and unravel, gushing out while cumming around his fingers. you scream out his name as you cum, hands turning white by how hard you’re holding on to the sheets.
“fuck daddy, so good… so good…” you puff out as you come down from your high. no time to register as you hear his pants drop to the floor.
“turn around baby, come sit on me.” you push yourself up, only to see him already leaning against the headboard, hand stroking his hard on. grunting. hints of pre-cum glistening in the dim room light. his gaze hard on you as he strokes himself.
you bite your lip, crawling slowly towards him before settling in front of him. he tilts his head, letting his pre-cum coat his length.
“think he heard you cumming all over my fingers?” cheol prompts. you flush, nod a little, think anyone within a few metre radius distance from the room would’ve heard you begging cheol to make you cum.
“wait til he hears how good my cock makes you feel baby,” he guides you towards him, letting you hover over his cock for a moment.
“you okay baby?” he whispers and gets a confirmation from you. “just want your cock in me,”
the tip presses against your entrance, and like what he predicted earlier, you sunk down his cock with ease, soaking wet cunt welcoming him eagerly. he groans, voice croaky. head so clouded by how snug and warm you feel.
“you feel so good princess, you feel fucking perfect around me,” he husks. his eyes unable to tear away from you — the way your mouth opens, gasps leaving you as you take him in all the way. the way your brows furrow with sweat down the middle. the blush spread on your cheeks and the moan you let out as you feel him completely.
he holds on to your hips, guiding you up and down his cock. switching between bouncing you and letting you grind on him.
“so fucking pretty, you always take me so well,” his brows stay furrowed, unable to fully process how fucking good you feel around him. feels like he could cum any moment.
“cheol.. daddy..so good daddy,” you moan out, you see and feel nothing but him and him only at this moment. and you want him to know how good he makes you feel.
“yeah baby? daddy’s cock making you feel good?” he raises his eyebrows, head hitting the back of the bed so hard yet he can’t feel the impact of it. so lost in the moment — wants you to cum around him, wants to cum inside of you.
“so so so good daddy,” you cry out, hands playing with your tits, giving him a little show as he continues to work your hips on him. his strong hands doing most of the work for you, while you focus on the feeling of his tip hitting and grinding against your gummy spot. the way he keeps creating waves of butterflies in your lower stomach.
“that’s it, let him hear how good i make you feel baby,”
“show him how you’re my needy little slut, bet he’s never gotten you like this,”
“no one can make you feel like i do right baby, no one compares to daddy right?” cheol utters out, cursing out every time he feels your walls tighten around him.
“n-no one daddy. only you can make me feel this way,” you cry out. “only you daddy, only you,” and it’s true. cheol works around your body like no other, like magic. knowing every spot of your body and how to take you there — faster than anyone ever.
his fingers make their way to your clit once again, and you jerk forward the moment he starts to rub messily on your slippery bud again.
“that’s it baby. only daddy can ever make you feel this way,” he snaps his hips up faster, feeling his incoming orgasm the more he hears you cry out.
“you’re doing so good baby, taking me so well. you belong on daddy’s cock don’t you,” he moans out. holding back on his thrusts, focusing on your clit to make you cum again. knows he won’t be able to hold back any longer if he continues fucking up into you.
“cum for daddy again? wanna see you cum around daddy’s cock. i know you can baby,” his pace quickens and he groans — knowing how it goes, knowing when you’re about to cum. needs to hear you fall apart on his cock.
“almost there baby, cum for daddy — that’s it that’s it… feels so fucking good doesn’t it baby, look at you.” his words alone bring you to a new high, cumming so hard around his cock, screaming his name so loud you think the upstairs neighbour knows who cheol is.
“fuck baby. gonna cum. gonna cum so fucking hard inside of you baby.” his hands find their way back on your hips, gripping onto dear life as he snaps his hips up into your dripping cunt.
“ah fuck, fuck i’m cumming baby, daddy’s gonna cum inside of you,” and you clench around him, watching the final string break as he whines out, and you feel his hot cum shooting inside you, painting your walls.
thick hot cum continues to spurt inside of you as he slowly fucks it in you, pushing his cum deep inside every crevice of your cunt. his moans come in sections, breaking more and more.
he lifts you up slowly before you decide to lay beside him, feeling beat. he extends an arm for you to lay on as a pillow and you smile, facing him as you use his arm comfortably.
“you were so good princess, did so well for me. as always,” cheol caresses your cheek softly.
“sorry baby, i shouldn’t have let mingyu hug me all over like that… i would’ve been upset if i were you too,” quietly, you place a kiss on his jawline. hoping he isn’t too affected by mingyu anymore.
“no baby, i’m not mad at you. just hate it when guys look at you that way…especially if it’s an ex-boyfriend.” he rubs his nose with yours.
“i know baby…let’s get out of here? i’ll find another day to bring minji out for a birthday dinner..”
giggling, cheol agrees — but not til you guys catch your breaths for a few minutes.
perm taglist 🖤: @gyuguys @black-swan-blog27 @do-you-remember-summer-127 @mrsjohnnysuh
a/n: hi luvs! sorry, i’ve been a lil caught up w life and etc so :(( missed being here n writing so here i am! managed to find some time to write a lil smth <3 hope u guys liked it, if u did — like, rb or comment ⭐️ love you, muahh 🍒
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