#Tagging because the tag was lonely lately and I CAN

[desultory-novice]

Look! Floating cuties!

[guardian-angle22]

911: Lone Star | Paul Strickland in 5.04

[sparky-is-spiders]

tell me about the Jon Isolation AU!

This ask carried me through microeconomics homework, econometrics lab, microeconomics class, econometrics class, AND worries about Big Future Assignments! So thank you very much <3

This is a fun one cause I actually have the first draft of the first part written!! It's basically a version of one of my favorite personal Jon plotlines where he moves into the Archives and has no social support system. Desperately in need of a rewrite to sand away the rough edges tho lmao.

Alright I won't lie: this AU was born when I was thinking about creating an Archivist, and why it wouldn't work if you just stuck someone in a room, made them read a bunch of statements, and then dropped 14 marks on them (because that would be much easier, faster, and more efficient than what happened in the podcast, but that's not what Elias did). And then I (world's most normal Jon enjoyer) thought about Elias doing that to Jon. And then, I (and I cannot stress this enough: world's MOST NORMAL Jon enjoyer) started thinking about. The most reasonable. Effective. Low-effort. Jon kidnapping plot. And then I wrote about 5k words. And then I left those to languish in the WIP folder, just like Elias leaving Jon to languish in the basement Archives.

In hindsight, it's also a spiritual precursor to my vampire JE fics. Like. Same basic setup.

Huh.

(Believe it or not I'm actually even more of a freak about Jon NOW.)

Just to be clear, warning for:

Unhealthy relationships (I mean it's JE lmao)

Dubcon captivity?? I guess?? Like Jon agrees but Elias manipulates the scenario and Jon is. Not super happy about the situation.

Anyway the plotline is: Gertrude is missing (how mysterious and worrying!) and Elias needs himself a "temporary" Archivist to take care of the Archives until either she returns or until it becomes clear that he needs an official replacement. Jon is a very hardworking institute employee with a dedication to research and a knack for organization (autism requires everything be Sorted). Elias (who only wants to help Jon realize his full potential and has no ulterior motives whatsoever) decides that to promote him to the position. For career development reasons!

Jon:

Wants to prove that they are an asset to the institute and that they are up for the task.

Is hoping they can maybe be promoted to Head Archivist? Like Elias implied might happen if they did a good job?

Maybe. Possibly. Potentially. Fancies Elias a tiny bit.

Would appreciate the opportunity to do his own research on the statements there without their supervisor asking why they're so invested in statements involving Lietners and spiders.

Hypothetically wants Elias to praise them and validate them and respect them and profess his undying love for them make them employee of the month.

So. Obviously. They agree.

The thing is, it's only temporary, and Elias doesn't want to disrupt the other departments too much, you see, and surely Jon can handle a little tidying all by themselves? And obviously Jon can't say no to that! Haven't they always sort of wanted to not have to deal with annoying coworkers constantly chattering and bothering them and demanding their attention? Haven't they always wanted to work by themselves and be responsible for their own tasks? And Elias makes it sound like such an inconvenience to hire additional hands. Besides, Gerturde managed just fine without. Surely they can do this by themselves. Surely it will be fine.

It goes from there. The Archives are, obviously, a much bigger disaster than Elias had let on. But Elias expects Jon to handle it and handle it they shall. They just need to work harder. Come in early. Stay late. Miss lunch, sometimes. Work while they eat. It will be fine. What would Elias think if they asked for help? If they essentially admitted that they couldn't live up to his expectations? And other people would disrupt their ability to work. Might ask questions about any areas of interest they try to focus on.

They come in earlier and earlier. They stay later and later. Elias stops by occasionally to congratulate them on what a good job they're doing. To commend them on their dedication. So they have to keep it up. Can't slack off. They had friends before, sort of. Tim and Sasha were nice to talk to occasionally. But now Jon doesn't work near them, can't talk to them as much. Doesn't have time to get drinks with them after work, doesn't have the energy to answer their increasingly sporadic texts. Jon doesn't speak to much of anyone these days. It's fine though. It's fine it's fine it's fine.

There's something about the quiet stillness of the Archives. The echoing silence of the rest of the institute in those few moments Jon spends there in those long, lonely halls (not lifeless, per se, but lonely). There's some deep ache inside of them. It feels almost hollow, but it feels like home, too.

Elias is there, sometimes. To tell Jon how proud he is, how well they're doing. He likes to show up in the moments when Jon's thinking about leaving, maybe to eat in the cafeteria, maybe to stop by Sasha's desk... but that's probably paranoia. How would he know?

Every night, it feels so difficult to leave. Every night, Jon worries that Gertrude will come back and take the job from them, that Elias will find a replacement, that they'll lose their Archives. It's ridiculous, they know it, but it doesn't change the impulse to stay as long as possible. To prove to Elias that this is where they belong. It is an itch deep in their soul.

They think someone might be going through their desk. Something is watching them. It doesn't feel safe, leaving the Archives unattended over night.

(The Archives need an Archivist. The vacuum needs to be filled, and there is a perfect candidate right here, visiting them every day. Of course Jon is feeling the pull.)

And then it's been months, and Gertrude just hasn't been found, and Jon's done such a very good job, and it would be much easier if Jon would just... continue what they were doing? And if they think the work might be too much they can always ask for assistants, of course.

The itching in their soul soothes when they sign the contract. They try not to think about it.

Aaaaand that's about it as far as detailed plot goes. I do have some ideas for later on that are less well defined?

On the angstier side of things:

Things get easier when Jon is made Archivist officially. He feels more comfortable leaving at night, but he still spends a lot of time there. So many secrets, so little time.

He's paranoid. He knows something is up, that he might be in danger, that he's being watched... he can't involve anyone else. Not if he can't trust them, not if they might be in danger too.

Some of it is also the wearing effect of isolation. It's very easy to see other people as a threat or disturbance or unknown variable if you spend so much time alone.

He's looking into Gertrude's disappearance too. What did she know? What happened to her? Is he in danger too?

He can't trust Elias. He knows it. And it's so stupid that he's still maybe in love with him, just a bit.

Months pass. Relationships have surely withered and atrophied from Jon's absence. He still spends some time at his flat, but it's the Archives that feel like home.

And then, one night, the shadows in his flat come alive. Reaching ink-slick hands out to grasp him and pull him in.

It follows him. Shadows reaching with a dozen hungry hands as he races for the institute. Out of walls, street posts, parked cars. One catches on his side, and the flesh tears like paper.

It was midnight when he left. It was almost daybreak when he arrived at the Archives. He knows he's safe as soon as he crosses the threshold.

From there, I'm not sure what happens next. Tempted to say Elias was there waiting for him (I think the formatting maybe implies more continuity than there is there, how much Jon knows by the time he has to leave his flat behind is... debatable). Maybe Elias comes in to visit him and pretends to be shocked and worried about all the very unexpected blood. Maybe Jon has to phone him, begging for help because he can't go to the hospital (he knows it'll come back, the next time he's left alone in the dark), and really, who else does he have that will believe him?

Elias stays with him, tends to his injuries, spends his nights in the Archives with Jon. It's Jon who begs to stay in the Archives. Who needs the safety. The surety. Maybe Elias suggests that he stay there forever. Maybe he doesn't have to.

On the much goofier side of things: I do have an idea of them (once Jon is healed) going to Ikea to pick out some furniture. I'm thinking maybe Jon would know about the Eye, just for some fun bickering over picking out furniture or assembling a dresser or whatever. Idk, I just really like the idea of JE making the Archives into a cozy little home for Jon, somewhere he can comfortably live forever <3.

Jon has a lot of complicated feelings about the Archives and living in them and being the Archivist. Maybe he even tries to leave and go back to living a normal life. Maybe the reaching shadows break that idea for him forever. Either way, one way or another, he will learn that there is no point and there is no freedom in trying.

Despite this AU's beginnings, I don't know if Elias is working towards some big ritual. Maybe he just wants a perfect Archivist to keep in his basement forever.

And. I mean. Can you really blame him??

Not sure if JE ever become like. Official Romantic Partners. But Jon is Elias' Archivist and Elias is Jon's Watcher and that's kind of the same thing, really.

(Maybe they can have some sort of binding ritual ceremony at some point. As a Treat.)

Okay that's. God this has been a bit of a ramble, huh? Anyway I hoped you enjoyed hearing about this AU. I did get excited to take another crack at it while writing this! At the same time, however, I recently saw a post about Love that annoyed me a bit and which has made me think about the Subway Monster AU (and how those two concepts are connected is a WHOLE other story lmao) so we'll see which I end up doing (the answer might be neither for a while. I have. Big Graduation Responsibility due Oct. 1st). But yeah anyway thank you again for the ask! It was fun rambling, and actually really nice to sit down and Think about my AU lol.

[lemonynuggets]

haha dude it’s been so long, we gotta catch up!! I need to tell you about how hard it’s been to keep going

[sparkleyiff]

Not sure if I'll be doing anything more for artfight this year I am. suffering. sorry :(

[outeremissary]

Having one of those weeks of "is this the monthly Malaise or am I about to have a real mental health rut"

[eupheme]

— sharing is caring

[part ii of come on and show me | masterlist]

logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson

rated e - 4k

tags: MMF threesome, jealous!reader, reader is wade's girl, mutual pining/crushes all around, dirty talk, open relationship, eiffel tower, oral sex, piv, shared blow job, one affectionate use of the word slutty, reader has her hair tugged, light wade degradation, come sharing/swapping, praise kink

It’s stupid how much a crush can affect you after everything, but Logan has a way of turning both of you into schoolgirls.

You’ve each had the flickers of feelings before, but it’s never been like the express train that is one Logan Howlett, unexpectedly crashing into your station. Neither one of you had stood a chance.

(or - you’re both eager to spend time with Logan again)

The party is in full-swing. Plastic cups full of NOS and liquor - a crumpled up, passed around piece of paper, filled with scribbled-down drinking games.

It’s week two of Wade’s ‘Friday Night Yikes: an Analysis of Films Unfairly Nominated for the Razzies’ - or, movie night, to keep it simple.

A buzz of conversation during the intermission between the third and the fourth Fast & Furious movies, as you worked your way to Fast X.

It’s your first time being back at the apartment since your shared morning together. A busy past couple days - work schedules always just out of sync.

Wade coming to you one of those nights after you got off late - quiet, midnight murmurings filled with interest and hope, a conclusion that both of you on the same page.

Leaving you to wonder if he would be, as well.

You’ve felt the weight of Logan’s gaze throughout the night. Dropping when you glance his way, busying himself with his drink, passing around the bowl of chips or popcorn.

Trapped between Colossus and Peter - the seating in the small apartment is already limited. You've been perched on Wade's lap for the last hour, legs kicked over the side of an armchair as your head rests against his shoulder. A smile, with the rumble of laughter under your ear. The fingers that curl around your waist, fingers brushing.

But you know his gaze drifts across the room as well.

Catching the tail end of a conversation, Logan's beer tipped back as Piotr swipes through a phone that looks toy-sized in his hand.

"-be lonely in an apartment like this. I could help you find a nice girl."

It's not the first time this conversation has risen, but it's the first time it's made you go tense in Wade's arms.

"You don't want this hunk of metal helping you," Wade jumps in, "I got just the guy. Hope you like scars, because good news-"

Even as your elbow digs into his ribs, he doesn't budge.

��Right.” Logan scoffs, interrupting, “As if I was into loud-ass, scar-covered, bald assholes. You wish, Wilson.”

It doesn’t hold the same animosity it would’ve a week ago. There’s a muffled “fuck” breathed in your ear, the tilt of hips that lift beneath you.

“Nothing wrong with a bald asshole. Preferable, sometimes.” Wade smirks with a wink, “Come on Logi Bear, we can’t let a handsome young man like you become a spinster. What’s your type?”

Only now do Logan's eyes meet yours, holding your gaze as he answers.

"Don't have one."

It makes you inhale a breath, a little jolt in your belly.

'You have already got a girl, Wade. That is my point," Piotr frowns. A hum of interest as he shows Logan his phone, "What about Domino? You remember her, right?"

Peter leans from the other side, "Wade, you were supposed to give her my number."

"She has it." Piotr brushes him off, as Peter looks crushed. There’s a ping from Logan’s pocket - the information sent over.

Always getting lucky. You like Domino, quite a bit actually, but the thought sends a fresh wave of oozing green jealousy washing over you.

Logan huffs, a shift as his legs stretch out - the hint of a smirk, as he deflects, “How do you know me and Althea haven't been getting cozy?”

There’s a derisive snort from the armchair to your right.

“You wish you could handle me, motherfucker.”

There a chorus of laughter, Wade’s voice ringing out.

“Was that a joke?” It pitches up, as if he can’t believe it, “You're getting soft, maybe you are getting laid.”

As is he hadn’t been gargling Logan’s balls just a few days before. Coming so hard with his roommate’s fist around his cock, that he saw stars.

The look Logan shoots his way is unreadable. A lazy roll of his eyes, before his head tips towards the television.

“Just start the goddamn movie, dumbass.”

You slip from Wade’s lap when Logan peels from the couch to grab another beer. The chip bowl scooped up off the table - can’t be running out, not when there’s another hour still left to go.

A moment as you linger, watching as the fridge light illuminates his face. The silhouette of his features, the sharp cut of his facial hair flecked with grey - before he’s catching you, an eyebrow cocked.

You make a show of rounding the fridge, stepping into the narrow pantry. Hoping that he follows.

He doesn’t let you down.

“You’re not gonna call her, are you?”

It’s not what you mean to ask him, even if it’s certainly what you’ve been thinking about - the conversation a lead weight in your belly.

There’s a beat, as his eyebrow lifts. The peek of the tip of his tongue, running across a canine.

“I might,” He drawls, an arm bracing on the shelves, filling the doorway, “Gonna try to convince me not to, sweetheart?”

That jolt inside you plummets, until you see the curl of his lips. How there’s a dark heat that simmers in his eyes, as they drop to your mouth.

Teasing. Logan is teasing you.

You step into him. A hand curling around the back of his neck, his sharp intake of breath just audible before your mouth tips up to his.

It only lasts as long as a heartbeat, but you can still feel the hunger.

How his hands curve around your waist, dipping to cup against your ass. Tugging you flush as he licks into your mouth, leaving you panting when you pull away.

You can’t get too caught up. Not with your friends just across the room, this tenuous connection still taking shape between you.

“Come stay with us tonight.” It’s quiet, as his lips brush yours again, “We’ll take care of you.”

Logan’s eyes open, his voice a low rasp.

“Thought it was a one-time thing.”

You can’t bite back your smile, “Mm, think it was at least a three-time thing, if I’m remembering right.”

And there’s still his words, echoing in your mind, when it wanders. “Our girl.” If it had been possible to come from that alone, you just might have.

He huffs, and your voice softens.

“But no. Not if you don’t want it to be.”

The look he gives you is searching.

“Wade put you up to this?”

You lean against the shelves, arms crossing, “Wade has been half-hard all night, thanks to you. He feels the same, hasn’t been able to stop looking at you.”

His tongue pokes against his cheek.

“I’ve noticed. You two are not subtle.”

Heat licks at your cheeks, as your eyes drop. It’s stupid how much a crush can affect you after everything, but Logan has a way of turning both of you into schoolgirls.

You’ve each had the flickers of feelings before, but it’s never been like the express train that is one Logan Howlett, unexpectedly crashing into your station.

Neither one of you had stood a chance.

“I’m sorry.”

You try to move away from him, but there’s no where to go. His hand reaches out, even as his eyes shift away - settling somewhere next to your ear as his own pinken.

“Don’t be. It’s… uh,” There’s a lift of his shoulder, as he searches for a word, “Nice. Been a long time.”

“I find that hard to believe.” You smile, head tilting, “So… maybe just think about it?”

There’s the sound of a cinematic explosion behind you - layered laughter pulling you out of the moment.

Logan leans close. A held breath, before he grabs the bag of chips off the shelf - dropping them into your bowl as he takes a step back.

Just as aware as you are of the time that has passed.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” He purrs, “I’ll think about it.”

There’s a low murmur in your ear, when you slip onto Wade’s lap a few minutes later. Stalling as you refilled, waiting for Logan to settle in before you went back.

You can feel him now, the considerably-more-pronounced ridge that presses into the curve of your ass. The hand that settles almost possessively just beneath your breasts, splaying wide.

“You’re so hot when you’re jealous.” Wade rasps in your ear, a press of his lips against your neck.

This time when your elbow digs into his side, he laughs.

“Hello gorgeous,” Wade coos, “I’ve missed you.”

Logan shifts, scowling, “I live with you.”

There’s a sigh from behind you, as you settle between Logan’s thighs. It’s late now - the movie eventually winding to an end.

Tension stringing tight in your belly, that warm weight as everyone bid goodbyes. Al conked out on her recliner after ten minutes into the second movie, something that Wade may or may not have planned.

Making for Wade’s room - starting where you left off in the kitchen. Clothed peeled off with the wandering of mouth and hands, bared by the time the door kicks shut behind you.

Your palm pressing against his chest as he settles back against the headboard - you and Wade fitting yourselves onto the bed alongside him.

Even though you’ve seen him before, he’s still a sight to behold - all thick muscles and hair-dusted skin - something you’re still taking in.

“Not you,” Wade clarifies - a hand smoothing down your back.

Your thighs press together, squirming already, as his hips settle just shy of the soft curve of your ass. A shift, as he gets comfortable - the weight of his stiff cock dipping against your skin.

“I’m talking to king dong right here.”

There’s a rough scoff, “Don’t talk to my dick, Wilson.”

“Well someone has to. He told me he’s lonely, poor thing. Always what you doing, not how you doing. Isn’t that right, big guy?”

“Alright,” Logan scowls, a hand bracing on the headboard as he lifts up, “I’m out of-”

He chokes on the sound, as your tongue peeks out to lap at his shaft.

It’s pretty - flushed at the tip, as it rests against his thigh. A thickening twitch as you kiss along his hard length, down to the dark, wiry hair - a hushed groan as he sags back into place.

“Didn’t get to taste you last time.” You murmur, fingers wrapping around the base, “Been thinking about this.”

Stroking against skin, as you take him into your mouth. A soft moan in your throat, as he fills you - the tip skating across your tongue.

“‘s right,” Wade comments, with another roll of his hips. Thumb pressing against the tip, angling him down to tease as your entrance, “Gotta level the playing field, gorgeous.”

A glance up at Logan, eyes narrowing as he smirks.

“We’re totally pussy pals now, bee tee dubs. Both opened the gates of Mordor. Took ole one-eye to the same optometrist.”

The annoyed groan you make turns soft, as he starts a lazy rhythm with his hips. Knowing how to wind you up - skating his length against your slit, as try to take another inch down your throat. Cheeks hollowing as you suck, tongue tracing the underside of his tip.

“Counting down the days until we’re cock comrades,” He adds, with a friendly pat against your ass - before he sends Logan a wink, “But I’m willing to wait for marriage. Know you’re old-school, peanut.”

There’s a pull of Logan’s brow. A scowl, as he shifts - the movement nudging him deeper into your mouth. Distracting him from the sharp retort as you moan, the sound buzzing against his cock.

He meets your eyes, half-lidded. A hand coming to cup your jaw, urge you to take just a little more.

“Cold day in hell before that happens.”

It’s gritted out, half-hearted as your head bobs. A slow stroke of your fist across spit-slick skin - his hips lifting, chasing you.

“I dunno,” Wade coos. Eyes dropping down to the leaking tip of his cock. His thumb pressing against the curve of your ass - tugging you open so he can watch how he sinks into you.

“I have a way of making people beg.”

You whimper, as he inches into you. Mouth full, spit pooling on your tongue. It almost overwhelming, to be between them like this.

The pleasurable warmth that loops through you, your eyes sliding shut. Leading into Logan’s touch as Wade splits you open, leaving you squirming.

There’s a shift, as his hands slip to flatten against the mattress. A smooth drag as he surges forward - hilting himself with a final roll of his hips.

It makes you gasp, even with how slick you are. Clenching down around the cock that fills you - eagerness flickering in your belly, as you life your hips to take him deeper.

“Fuck, baby. So fucking tight.” Wade moans appreciatively. Slipping half-way out, only to watch how your ass sways when he fills you again, “Gonna turn my dick into a goddamn diamond. Emma Frost this shit.”

Another thrust sending you forward. A rhythm starting - sinking back onto Wade’s cock when to rock back, your throat relaxing when you take Logan further.

Your jaw has to open wide take him. There’s a throb against your tongue as he nudges at your throat. A rattling gasp when you’re shifting back again.

“Feels good, sweetheart,” Logan coos - his hands curving around your throat, fingertips at the base of your neck, “Think you can take more?”

The praise stokes the fire in your belly. Eyes wide as you nod - Wade slowing as you angle your head.

“Oh yeah, she can.” Wade purrs.

Watching as you try to take more, until your nose is brushing the coarse hairs at his base. The air burning in your lungs as you hold your breath.

A gasp, when you pull off him. Leaving you to kiss and suck at his tip, lips slick with spit.

You ache for them - your other hand wedging between your hips and the mattress. A whine when your fingers circle, slipping against slick skin.

It sends your nerves alight, with the way Wade grinds himself into you. His cock dragging against your walls, nudging against a sensitive spot inside you - you can feel your thoughts starting to go hazy.

“You think she gets wet from kissing? Fuck, you should feel her now.” There’s a rough thrust, the slap of skin against skin.

There’s a pressure against your back, as Wade dips down. His chest pressing against your shoulders - caging you in as his cheek nudges against yours.

A kiss dropped against your shoulder.

“You get a little slutty with a dick in your mouth, baby?” His voice goes soft and low - teasing.

“That’s okay, I do too.”

His words make you moan. He’s deeper like this, filling you with shallow thrusts. A hand tucking beneath you, cupping a breast.

A rough groan in your ear, “Makes me wonder… why am I letting you have all the fun?”

Logan’s hips lift on their own accord. A bitten-back sound, trapped in throat as you register what he means.

Your head angling to make room for your boyfriend, lips trailing down to press against his base. A tilt of your fist, holding Logan’s cock for him steady as you smile.

“Room for two, honey.”

There’s the twitch of Logan’s hands against your skin, his grip tightening in your hair. His eyes dark when you glance up at him. A heave to his chest, lips parted as the tip of his cock slips past Wade’s lips.

“Fuck.” It’s gritted out.

His hand leaves your neck to hook against Wade’s shoulder, fingers pinching into skin. A muffled sound caught in his throat, as Wade pulls off him and grins.

Twin kisses pressed against his shaft. You travel up this time, tongue tracing over the thick vein. Logan’s jaw clenching, teeth grinding together.

“Don’t hold back on us, daddy long leg.” Wade hums, smirking, “As if you didn’t cream your panties the last time I did this.”

A drag of his tongue against Logan’s sack, and the moan loosens. Words coming with it, the next time you trade - kisses pressed against the seam, as Wade takes the shaft into his throat.

“Oh shit,” It’s panted out, “That’s it, put that fucking mouth to good use.”

There’s a groan, with the bob of his head. Your own lifts as you watch, a soft hum as you kiss his throat. Watching the way his eyes flutter shut, brow pinching as he tries to take him further.

“You’re not used to something this big, are you baby?” You coo, “Gonna need some help?”

“Fuck.” Wade laughs, as he pulls off him - the sound strangled, as the rock of his hips goes sloppy, “Teaming up me. Don’t bully me, I’ll-”

He moans, when Logan’s hand presses on the back of his head, urging him back down. Your teeth sinking into your lip as you grin - a kiss pressed against Wade’s cheek, then chin.

A shift, until the tip slips from his mouth, and then you’re sharing it - messy, spit-slick lips against skin. Open-mouthed, tasting him, tasting Logan, as you rock back to meet his thrusts.

“Fuck, I dreamed about this.” It slips from Logan. Hushed, you almost miss it in the hazy swirls of your mind.

It shoots through you, straight to your clit. Your efforts doubled - you like how messy it is, the brush of his tongue against yours. The hand between your thighs bracing on the mattress instead so you can twist further, the other pulling his mouth to fully meet yours.

There’s a ragged moan, as Wade’s body goes taut. His face burying in your shoulder as he ruts into you - two more shallow thrusts before he’s spilling with a rough moan inside.

Grinding against you, pumping himself into your tight warmth until the throbbing pulse of his cock ebbs. Until you’ve milked him empty, his come painting your walls.

“It’s too much,” Wade gasps, lips curling up at the edges. Teeth nipping at your skin, “You two are gonna kill me-”

Logan huffs - eyes dark, “If fucking you to death was an option, our fight would’ve gone a lot differently.”

“Look at you,” It’s wheezed against your skin, an eye cracking open, “Another joke.”

Logan hums, more amusement than annoyance. A hand slipping from Wade’s shoulder, wrapping around his base. A slow squeeze in front of you, as your eyes widen.

“Supposed to be taking care of you.” Your smile is sheepish, “Sorry, Logan.”

Too caught up in sharing him - the weight against your tongue, how the tip slipped between pressed-together lips - to concentrate on your goal.

“You are.” It comes out rough - another squeeze. Angling it down, tapping the tip against your tongue when your mouth opens.

“Know you want a taste baby, but I’m not coming ‘til you do.”

You groan, as you suck him. As he feeds his cock to you, still stroking at the base. Feeling empty when Wade eases from you, hands at your hips - coaxing you to your knees for him.

“Human centipede, got it.” Wade grins - kissing down your back. Teeth sinking into the curve of your ass, as you hiss, “Better save some for me, gorgeous. Sharing is caring.”

You jolt, when his mouth presses against you.

Practiced swirls of his tongue, fingers that replace his cock. The needy rut of him inside you has been edging you since he started - and as you watch the way Logan watches both of you, it’s not long before you feel that tell-tale twist inside you, that pressure that winds tight.

Logan growls - all rasping voice and pinched brow. His lips parted, thighs inching wider as you let you hands wander across the thick muscles of his thighs.

Tracing over his fingers and lower, cupping him. A sharp hiss - his fist squeezing at his base, holding himself back.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let me give you what you want.”

It’s as close as you’ve heard to begging. A moan as the fingers curl and sink inside you. Teasing swipe of a tongue, dipping down to press against your hole. Panting breaths turning into whimpers, as Logan’s cock brushes over your lips.

“Please,” You whine, rocking back, “I want it, Logan. Wanna come-”

Wade’s lips close around your clit, and with the pound of his fingers, that string inside you snaps. Pleasure arcs through you, crackling up your spine.

Eyes half-lidded as you moan, the plunge of his fingers drawing out your orgasm. Muscles tensing as he teases at the sensitive bud - sharp, pointed licks that leave your toes curling.

Logan’s fist moves faster, as he watches you come undone in front of him. A hand curving around your chin to keep it in place - a thumb hooking around your teeth to keep your lips parted.

“Good fuckin’ girl, that’s it.” Logan growls, “Open your mouth for me, there you go.”

You open wider, just in time to catch the ropes of come that spill across your tongue. Taking him into your mouth, tongue lapping at the sensitive head as Logan moans. His fist working himself empty into your mouth, pulsing against your tongue.

“Can’t believe I’m saying this,” Wade’s hands press against your hips as he shifts beside you, “But don’t you fucking swallow.”

His hands joining Logan’s, tilting your head to mouth to the side - thumbing at your lip.

“Open.” Wade grits out - a sharp hiss when he sees how you hold it on your tongue, just before his mouth presses to yours.

Something thrumming in your belly, as he licks into your mouth. You’ve never shared anything quite like this before - the heady mix against your tongue. The moan that slides from you, echoing with the buzz in Wade’s throat.

The look of hunger in Logan’s eyes, when the kiss breaks. Lips glossy with your messy kiss, as his hands close around your biceps. It’s easy, with his strength, to tug you up until you’re straddling him.

His half-hard cock trapped against his slick core as he pulls you close. You laugh as your knees press into the mattress, a hand braced on his chest.

“Okay,” You hum, eyes dragging down, “This time, you lay back. Let me take care of everything.”

The murmured “fuck” against your lips, before his mouth presses to yours. Hips canting upward, seeking your heat.

And if you were a betting girl…

You’d bet this wasn’t a two-time thing, either.

Wade stretches out, cat-like. A matching lazy grin, as he peers out of one eye up at Logan, using a thigh like a pillow.

“Never thought I’d visit Paris,” He sighs, “Much less twice in one night. Good thing I’d been saving those frequent flyer miles.”

A yawn, muffled with the back of his hand, “Though I guess it’s not your first time though. Eh, Valjean?”

Logan grunts, the sound buzzing beneath your ear, where you head cradles against his chest. Muscles still burning from riding him, until his hands had hooked under your thighs to help.

Your leg stretches out now as you doze - boneless - hooking around his other thigh, as his fingers trace patterns on your skin.

“And don’t you think I didn’t hear that you dreamed about this,” Wade props himself up on an elbow - never one to let a comfortable silence linger.

A finger reaching out to poke his roommate in the ribs, “You catching feelings, peanut?”

Logan’s eyes roll, as he bats the hand away - nudging you to the side so he can ease carefully out from under you.

“Don’t ruin it.”

Swinging his legs around until he can push himself up - his ear to the door for a heartbeat until it’s swinging open.

“You’re coming back, right?” You ask, groggy - the words murmured out into the dim room.

His head turns, glancing back as he turns. You can catch the way his eyes soften, a thumb hitched over a shoulder toward the bathroom.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” He rasps, “Just grabbing somethin’ to clean you up.”

“I’ll be right back.”

thanks for reading! 💖 I have three more nights I’ve been wanting to explore with them (next one being the old dp with dp+w), so hopefully will have that up soon!

[taeslarityy]

outage ༄ joel miller one shot (18+)

-> pairing: no-outbreak joel miller au x female curvy reader

-> word count: 4.3k

-> summary: after a citywide power outage, you're left to deal with the scorching texas heat. until, the well-respected neighborhood dilf — joel miller — lends you a more than generous hand.

-> warnings/tags: sarah is 10/11 so joel had her a bit older, power outage, texas heat, yes this is a warning because its not a joke, reader has a cat!!!, age gap (reader is 24, joel is late 40s), curvy/mid/plus size reader, brief fatphobia, reader has self-image/parent issues + is a lonely gal, fluff, SMUT (18+), unprotected piv, creampie, oral + fingering (f!recieving), squirting, body worship, brief ass play, daddy kink, big ole tits, spanking, spit kink, praise kink, a bit of belly bulge, cockwarming, pet names galore (darlin, sweetheart, baby, _ girl), joel has a huge dick (not canon!)

-> a/n: hi hi! i have been so anxious to begin writing again and currently have some wips that i am just not confident with. so when i saw the lovely @hellishjoel post her #hotdilfsummerchallenge, i was positive i wanted to join in! such a pleasure to be involved in this — thank you kylee for creating such a fun way for this community to get involved! as a curvier woman, i wanted reader to reflect that. because... joel miller is a handsy mf and loves to just grab himself some wide hips, thick thighs and phat tits <3 but ofc, this is can be for various body types. please please please, leave your thoughts and even constructive criticism! <3 DILF NEIGHBOR JOEL, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS!!!!

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. 

You release a groan of annoyance as the visual of your TV, coffee table lamp and humming of the refrigerator all flicker off into silence. The frills on your throw-blanket settle, as the ceiling fan no longer produces the small gusts of wind that have caused you to be rather chilly on this hot, humid and rainy summer night. 

When you made the courageous decision of moving across the country for a new teaching opportunity in Austin — you were never informed on the true brutality summertime unleashed onto Texas residents. More-so, you really had nothing to do but be caged up in the comfortable AC of your home. You’ve been here for roughly 14 months and the only "friends" you’ve made have been the 28 fourth graders you had the pleasure of teaching last school year. Tragic. 

Your coworkers, did not handle your arrival pleasantly. Young, beautiful, freshly-educated and determined. That’s what your grandmother referred to you as when you called her sobbing after your first week. Informing her that the seasoned teachers won’t even bat an eye at you, and when they do it’s a look of disgust. Whispering amongst one another. Like you were in middle school again, trying to befriend the popular girls. 

“I was foolish to think things could be different for me down here, so stupid of me.”

“Now listen to me, you are the most intelligent woman I know. More than anyone in this family. Bullies like that, it stems from an unknown jealousy and overbearing insecurity. Don’t let a few sour grapes ruin this outstanding career for you. Your students adore you already, and so do I. Just continue to be yourself and if that isn’t enough for them, so be it.”

Your grandmother always knew how to make you feel better. She had been instilling your own sense of confidence since you were a little girl. The only adult in your life to do so. If only her words were enough. Your coworkers just never let up. After overhearing them gossip about you during lunch break, you gave up your attempts indefinitely. 

“She really thinks she deserves a place here?”

“Look at her back rolls in that shirt…”

“She really needs to put that sandwich down.”

“Why is she so quiet? It’s freaky, honestly. No wonder she’s always alone.”

You’re not a stranger to being alone. You practically have been your entire life. Your parents never really bothered to form a genuine relationship with you, always so focused on your younger sister. She was the prettier, thinner, more impressive version of you. You have only had one best friend throughout your long 24 years on this earth. She was smarter than you and moved away from the timid small town you shared in Northern Maine, choosing an out-of-state university. So, being alone was a familiarity. You have made peace with it. But being lonely — that’s a whole other ball-park. 

The booming thwack of thunder startles you from your thoughts. Your sweet calico boy leaps from your warm lap and scurries under the dining table — tail puffed in fear. “Milo... it’s okay,” you whisper. He just gleams at you with his jet-black saucer eyes. Even you don’t believe your own words. You are not used to storms like this, and you didn’t really prepare. You read some articles online about stocking up: having plently of batteries, candles, non-perishable foods. Yet, you didn’t do any of that. 

Rubbing away the moisture from your damp upper lip — the heat inside your home already becoming unbearable. Deciding on a whim, you can head to a nearby hotel for the night. Unsure how long you will be without power and don’t wish to succumb yourself or your cat to the searing temperatures of the night. 

The rain has slowed down, as you feel the soft patter on your umbrella. Throwing your purse and water bottle in the front seat, you begin to dread unpacking all this stuff when you get to the hotel. Bags, cat litter, cage — scrutinizing yourself mentally and deciding you better fucking prepare for the next storm. 

“Where ya headin’ sweetheart?”

Your heart jumps at the deep smooth Southern voice that fills your thoughts at night. When your hands would find their way in between your quivering legs. Throughout the day. Pretty much all the time.

Joel Miller is the only person in this town that has ever filled the lonely void you can never seem to fill. When you moved to the quiet suburban street, he was the first to come greet you as you struggled to pull your mattress out of the U-Haul. Immediately lending a hand, and proceeding to lug all of your remaining boxes, furniture, miscellaneous items into your new home. 

“Pretty lady like you, shouldn’t have to lift a single finger.” He remarked when you you blushed and assured him you could handle the rest, not wanting to be a burden. Even though the sweat dripping down your back was apparent and 5 minutes prior you had no idea how you’d be able to unpack the remainder of the truck. He then assured you — there was no way in hell you were being a burden. Words that were a rarity. 

Later that afternoon, he invited you for dinner at his home. You met his lovely daughter, Sarah. Where everyone learned that you were her new school teacher. What were the odds? 

Following that, seeing Joel was frequent. From parent-teacher conferences, backyard barbecues for the neighborhood, or even small intimate dinners with Sarah at each others homes. Sarah would even spend the night at yours on occasion. When Joel had a late night at the construction site, or when she just needed some girl time. You adored that little girl, and vice versa. 

You also adored the fuck out of Joel. 

So when you looked up at his porch, finding him in nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants.. your throat went dry. His tanned skin gleamed softly from the street light — little speckled freckles adorned his waist in various spots. And that darkish grey hair on his chest and fat of his lower tummy that flowed underneath his pants. Your brain fuzzy at the thought of your face pressed against it as you swallow his cock. 

But you were not a fool. Joel would never express an attraction towards you. A man like that? He deserved the perfect woman. 

“Darlin’?” He speaks again, a bit louder. Disturbing your wandering thoughts. 

“I- I was gonna head to a hotel for the night, my house is too hot already. And I don’t want Milo to be uncomfortable.” 

Joel’s eyes wander down your body as you explain — the plush jiggle of your tits in that small tank. Nearly spilling out. Slightly damp from the rain or humidity. The chub of your tummy spills slightly from your leggings. A sight that makes his cock swell unbearingly. An act that occurs more often than not when he sees you or even thinks of you for the countless minutes of his day. 

“No way. Not gonna let ya drive in this weather. Plus, most hotels nearby are gonna be overbooked. I got the generator up n’ working, got the spare room too. Your stayin’ over.” 

“No! No, Joel. I can’t.”

“N’ why not?” His hands have found his way to his hips, popping a knee out and giving you that classic dad glare. Not angry, but confused as to why you’re even protesting when he’s already decided. 

“I don’t want to intrude and I have Milo. You and Sarah are allergic.”

“Sarah left yesterday to stay with her mom in California for the rest of the summer. Besides, Milo loves me. I can handle a runny nose as long as I know the two of ya are safe.” 

To this, your stomach nearly flips inward on itself. You’ve never been alone with Joel in his home. Not for this long. The few times you’ve come over to help him with dinner before Sarah got home from soccer practice, have always been excruciating. Staring at him without worry. Watching his muscles flex through his t-shirts. Big hands chopping vegetables and plating food. His hand lightly touching your waist when scooting by. 

There’s no possible way you can survive a night in Joel’s home. 

But, he’s already grabbing his umbrella and walking over to you. He grabs your stuff from the car and tells you to go grab Milo. So, you do.

Joel slips on a t-shirt after he put your stuff in the spare room, disappointedly enough. You nearly told him to keep it off, but held your tongue. You made yourself comfortable at the island barstool as you typed up some early lesson plans, Milo at your feet. 

He patters over to Joel who is now leaning against the counter, brushing against his leg. He then leaps onto the granite and purrs against Joel’s arm. 

“Psst! Milo get do-“ you beg, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. 

“S’ okay, sweetheart. He’s not botherin’ me,” Joel attempts to settle your nerves. Petting Milo’s soft fur and scratching under his chin, that special spot all cats love. “Can I get you anythin’ to drink?” He nods towards the coffee he’s brewing. 

“Coffee would be nice, thank you.” You beam at him. Joel’s heart skips a beat every time your cheeks puff up ever so slightly when you smile at him. It’s something he swears is the most endearing thing about you. Of course, he’s only ever shared that with his daughter. Who begs her father to just take her favorite teacher on a date already. 

Joel grabs some sugar and oat milk from the fridge, your favorite. He learned from the few breakfasts you guys had shared. A bit of sugar and a nice gulp of milk softens the dark roast color in the mug, he slides it over to you as he grabs his plain black coffee. 

“You remembered!” You giggle slightly at the Number 1 Dad title that adorns the mug, taking a sip. You moan at the taste, exactly how you like it. 

“Of course I did, darlin’.” You almost hate how easily those pet names roll of his tongue. You summed it up as his southern hospitality, figured he calls any woman those special names. “So, you ready for this new school year?”

An icky feeling settles in your stomach. The thought of returning to the painful and toxic work environment you can only escape when you’re with your students.

“Not without my Sarah girl,” you swiftly change the subject towards the one person he can talk hours about.

He smiles proudly at her name. 

“Ya know, she still all mad that you wouldn’t flunk her so she could have another year with ya.” Both your laughs quickly fill the empty house. 

“Well, even if I tried to, that girl is too smart for her own good. She should skip a grade in my opinion.” You state, and you’re truthful at that. Sarah Miller is as intelligent as she is quick-witted. 

“Yeah, she gets it from me.” At that you roll your eyes playfully. Typing something up before closing your computer and taking another sip of coffee. “Although I love boastin’ over her, I guess I meant are you excited to go back? They treat ya good there?” 

Joel watches the color drain from your soft skin. Realizing he touched somewhere that might be too personal. Too raw. “M’ sorry sweetheart, shouldn’t have asked.”

“No- no uh, you’re fine. Um, honestly? No. I’m not excited. The staff there aren’t exactly the kindest bunch.” You confess, slight unease crawling over you. 

Joel’s eyes scrunch in confusion. Mind blank on how the kindest soul he knows, could be surrounded by complete opposite. “Whatcha mean?”

You sigh letting the anxiousness settle a bit before speaking again, “they hate me. I don’t even know why, really? I have tried my hardest to get them to accept me but nothing seems to work. Whether it’s jabs at my appearance, teaching style, they’re never satisfied.” Your eyes are burning slightly, haven’t confessed this burden you constantly carry to anyone. “If it wasn’t for your daughter and my class, and… you.. well, I think I wouldn’t have made it through. I try to be strong, I try to be everything that people expect from me but it’s just so hard, Joel.” At that, the fat tears begin to stream down your face.

Joel was frozen in shock. Or maybe anger. Protectiveness. He wanted to hurt the people who made you feel like this. The least deserving of any pain. He sets his mug down and snatches you in his embrace. Holding your head with his hand, stroking your back with the other. He lets you sob almost uncontrollably into his firm chest. 

“I just hate being so alone.” You whisper, clutching onto him. You can’t even be embarrassed anymore, you’re so overthrown by his scent, his comfort. Comfort you’ve not felt in so so long. 

Joel kisses your temple softly, "promise you're not alone, sweet girl." He nudges your head to look up at his own sorrowful expression. His thumb running over your full lips, a bit swollen from your teeth biting down on them in an attempt to muffle your sobs. "So beautiful." He murmurs as he leans down to place a kiss on your left cheek, his lips skim over yours before he places another on your right.

Joel just barely hears the whimper from the back of your throat when that feather light skim happened. He leans back half an inch, staring into your glossy eyes. "Tell me not to, and I'll let you go upstairs and get some rest. Tell me, sweetheart."

It feels like a whole minute passes by. The soft patter of the rain, the smell of coffee beans from each others breath, the same slow breathing that overwhelms the little space between you both.

Desperation.

Your fingers tighten on his shirt, "don't let me go upstairs, Joel."

Joel smashes his mouth into yours, his guttural groan flying into your soft whimpers. The softness Joel expressed a moment ago is long gone. This kiss is messy, teeth-clanking, tongue inside your mouth. Like he wants to devour you from the outside in. He releases your lip with a pop.

He threads his thick fingers through the base of your hair and yanks it back gently, tongue on your neck. Biting the skin there. "You're so soft, baby. Just need me to mark ya up, is that right?"

You nod as hard as you can despite his harsh grip on your locks.

"I need you to use your words, sweet girl. Let me know what you're thinkin'."

"Everything you do is okay. I want more. I need it all. Please."

"Oh baby, cm'ere," he wraps your lavish thighs around his waist and hoists you into his arms. Easily. Like you're just the most delicate thing he's ever held.

As he walks to his bedroom, you smile into his neck. Arms wrapped over his shoulders, hand rubbing ever so softly at his greying curls. You bite at the skin under his ear and he gives your ass a huge squeeze. Groaning at how his big hands barely hold all the meat there. He couldn't wait to touch and gnaw at this body he loved.

At the foot of his bed, he taps your leg as if telling you to get down. You stand in front of his massive overbearing figure, staring up at him lustfully. You grab the bottom of your compression tank top and pull it over your head, revealing your unsupported chest. Your heavy tits fall a bit.

"My god," Joel falls to his knees in front of you, face nearly level with your pebbled nipples. Both his hands grab a fistful of each, rolling them in his palm. Your sweet noises fill the room and he swears he might've just came in his pajama pants right there. He takes his teeth and bite at the fat above your leggings, licking and sucking at a sensitive part of you. Literally and figuratively.

Joel abandons your chest to yank your leggings and panties down in one move, coming face-to-face with your prickly oozing pussy. He can't restrain himself much longer, spinning you around he pushes you down into his mattress.

He spreads your ass open with both hands, the chub of your lips open ever so slightly as the slick between them strings together.

"Perfect cunt." That's when you feel the chill of liquid spat right onto your puckered hole, dripping down to your clit. He leans in, tongue catching the tangy mixture of your slick and his saliva, right on your throbbing clit.

You screech into the sheets, so turned on from his actions. As he licks up to dip his tongue into your hole, one hand that's holding you open sneaks up your back, to your neck and yanks your head up.

"Nu-uh, let me hear you, baby girl." He demands as he pauses to throw his shirt off as fast as possible — not wanting to leave your cunt for too long without the warmth of his mouth.

He sloppily makes out with your cunt as it clenches and unclenches under his tongue, his beard prickling at your skin. Like he wants your scent all over him for as long as possible.

"Ohh daddy, more more," you whisper hazily, hand reaching back to grab his head desperate to have him as deep as possible.

Joel stops as he processes your choice of title. "What was that, darlin'?"

You freeze at his serious tone. Just now realizing what you've called the man. "Oh my god, I'm s-" Joel grabs your wrist and pins it against your lower back — thick middle and ring finger hooking into you with no warning. Your wetness aiding in the rapid slide of them.

He spits on your puckered hole again and abandons your wrist to land a harsh smack against your ass.

"Only dirty girls say that word, baby. Are you daddy's dirty girl?" He edges you on as he spanks you again on the opposite side. Hard. Unsparing. A side of Joel you've never seen. And oh, does it make you feel that coil tightening within you.

"Mmmm yes yes 'm your dirty girl, daddy!" You groan loudly, eyes swelling with fresh tears. But not tears of pain from earlier, pleasure.

Joel's fingers fuck into you harder, thumb now rubbing at your clit as he leans forward to prod his tongue at your asshole. "Cum for me, my nasty sweet girl. Drench my face. Let me taste you even more." He halts his fingers knuckle deep, hooked inside your cunt as he presses into that spot on repeat. Like he's stroking it out of you.

That's all it takes for you to silently scream as you squirt all over his lower beard covered face and your thick inner thighs, that nearly squish his head from how hard you're coming. Joel just keeps himself situated, never letting up. Allowing you to completely let go and rut back into him, telling him you need more.

"Thaaat's it, my good fuckin' girl.” He praises as he kisses your cunt and ass, he leans over your face capturing your lips in a kiss so messy and depraved. “Open that mouth.” Spitting roughly onto your tongue with a groan as you taste your sweetness that he knows he will forever be addicted to. No chance of recovery.

He ruts his thick bulge into your ass as you whine needly.

"Really want you to fuck my face, now." You beg, hand reaching down to grope him through his loose pjs.

"Mmmmm," he murmurs as his hips keep rutting into you. "Tonight is about you, baby. M' gonna stuff your tight cunt so fuckin' deep you'll feel it in your throat, don't worry." And with that promise, he releases himself, throbbing cock slapping against his lower tummy. You flip onto your back just to see it and your eyes widen at the sight before you.

You always knew it was huge just from perception, but god. It's thicker than your wrist, and looks like it would prod into your cervix. Painful even. Joel senses the worry on your face as he pushes your legs back against your chest. Admiring the way your stomach folds into itself, soft roll after roll. And the thickness of your inner thighs lays heavy. He just wants to get down and feast on you again but he might die if he doesn't feel you wrapped around him.

"You're in charge here, sweetheart. Understood?" He explains as he rubs his fat cock head up and down your swollen slit — notching on your opening with every downward stroke.

You nod slowly, peeking down at the monster between your legs once more. He squeezes your ankle, subtly reminding you to vocalize.

"Yes daddy, I understand."

"Good." And with that, he pushes into your fluttering hole. Your eyes roll back immediately, head thumping onto the soft duvet. He pushes in deeper, barely halfway in and he sees your feet and eyes scrunch a bit. It almost feels like he could rip you apart. Maybe it's because you haven't been fucked in a hot minute — or maybe it's just that Joel is so fucking hung. More than any guy you've slept with.

“Deep breath for me, sweetheart.” He soothes you, as soon as he sees your chest fall — he slams the rest of the way in. Hips flush with the back of your thighs. Cock fully sheathed in your warm soaked cunt. Heavy brimming balls pressed against your little puckered hole. “You feel so damn good. Dripping for me.” Joel’s eyes close at the feeling of you hugging him so tight. He suddenly forgets the feeling of any other woman he’s pleased. Utterly devoted to you from here on out.

When he pulls out all the way to his fat tip — it notches on your opening. Like he has to put in that extra effort to fully remove himself from you. But he doesn’t, and starts fucking into you fully. Never half way, never pulling completely out.. but always making sure he reaches the end of you.

“Da- daddy oh, harder please.” You plead, squeezing his forearm at the overwhelming feel of him nudging your cervix with every thrust.

That confirmation of pleasure is all Joel needs to push your legs back even more — ankles by your head — and began a brutal relentless pace. Grabbing a fistful of your jiggling tit and messy hair, he pulls your head up so you can watch how he ruins you for anyone else.

“Ya see that, see how swollen your gettin’ already?” Joel questions as he holds your head perfectly to observe the slight lifted pudge on your tummy. Paired with the way his coarse hair rubs against your swelled clit — it’s a drool worthy sight.

“Cus’ your so big, Joel.” You sigh, eyes fluttering from the primal force he’s using on your body.

A smug grin flicks across his face at the view. Mind consumed by the most perfect woman. Eyebrows turning inward, the little lines between them deepening as you try to comprehend all the emotions in this moment. Removing his hand from your head, he finds your clit and swipes it upward. Over and over. Leaning down, he sucks as much of your breast into his mouth as humanely possible. Tongue flicking the pebbled area, coercing your orgasm from you. “Cum with me, baby.” His muffled command shoots straight to your filled core.

As he feels you spasm around his thickness, he stills balls deep. “There it is, baby…” Spilling his cum inside your warmth. Plugging you, keeping you full of him. Joel relaxes his body against yours, finding your mouth to kiss you gently. Sweaty foreheads against one another. Joel goes to push off of you, his comforting body heat about to be ripped away.

"No! Wanna feel you longer, please."

Your protest makes Joel's heart surge. "Of course, sweet girl." Wrapping his large arms around you, he flips you both so that your soft plush body lays above him. The new angle makes his spent cock nudge a bit deeper, you both moan at the faint squelch of his cum overflowing your cunt. "You're so perfect," he mutters.

Smiling into his full chest, you leave a swift kiss. "So are you. Thank you for this. For.. everything."

Joel's hands finds your back as he begins gentle strokes onto your supple skin, his head resting atop your own. "Thank you, darlin'. I want you to understand something, you might just be the finest thing that ever happened to Sarah and I. Y'know, she didn't really want to see her mom. Never had the best relationship with her. She just wanted to spend the remainder of the summer havin' ya over everyday to swim and all. That girl admires you more than anyone."

Eyes foggy, you shift to gaze up at him. "And what does her father think?"

Joel pauses briefly, rich brown orbs beaming into yours. "Think she's damn right. She didn't want me to tell you this, but she left so I could have some alone time with you — take ya out. Scolded me sayin' by the time she's back, we better be together." He laughs at the thought, you join him. Picturing that 4'9 ball of fire lecturing her father on the rules of dating.

"So, you're asking me out Miller?" You question with a heavy hopeful heart.

"Should've done it forever ago, darlin'." He confesses, placing a delicate kiss on your temple.

And with that, you place your head back onto the warm chest of the man you've craved your entire life. Realizing, ever since that day where he first greeted you with that sultry gentleman voice — you were never truly alone.

thank you truly for reading! let me know your thoughts below or in asks!! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[simpjaes]

FIRST DATE ETIQUETTE (p.sh)

Park Sunghoon is not dull, nor is he the clean cut neighbor your mother thinks he is. Oh, the horrors of if she found out that the man she set you up on this date with immediately took you home and rendered you unable to walk...he'd never be able to defend himself without a swift slap to the head.

៸៸៸ minors do not interact! 

៸៸៸ PARING:  park sunghoon x afab reader

៸៸៸WC: 9.3k

៸៸៸ TAGS: mentions of food (meat), strangers to fucking immediately to the possibility of dating later, brat taming, mocking and making fun of each other, sneaky sex, flirting and bullying in the same instance, cocky sunghoon, um…they’re kind of competitive in bed

៸៸៸ A/N: what’s that? you’ve read this before? that’s bc i wrote it! I’ve revised the original now to fit sunghoon because I am insatiable in my lust for him. (original title: the bore next door)

smut tags under cut::​​​

SMUT TAGS: dom sunghoon, bratty/sub reader, huge cock agenda (again), he gets the best head he’s ever had, he calls you messy a lot (he likes it messy),  face fucking, pussy eating, nipple biting, finger fucking, squirting,  dirty talk, wow i can’t believe I actually wrote a condom being used this time!!!!, sunghoon tries to make you moan because his horny brain wants your parents to know, dirty talk, praise, hair pulling.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

23rd street. The restaurant is on 23rd street, and you can honestly say you’ve managed to hit every street but this one. From 13th to 35th, does the street in question even truly exist? Were you set up by your parents?

In short, you have been single since high school. Maybe a few flings here or there throughout college but you never truly settled on one man or woman in a relationship. You’re almost shocked that your parents are pushing so hard for you to find love. They want you to somehow feel the love from the movies, something like they had felt when they met. In this century, unfortunately, love isn’t quite as predictable.

 You can’t just pick a person who has a good job and a decent face and assume love will settle in someday. 

Not only is it not predictable but it isn’t a priority in your life. You have no interest in meeting the standard a man could hold for you, nor a woman, or family member. You’re here to exist in your own way, work your way up through the corporate food chain, and live in a home with over thirteen cats before dying a peaceful death in your late eighties. Why do you need a man to do any of this? Why do you need to settle for one cock, one set of hands, and one personality?

Right, because mom wants you to at least try to experience what love is. Surely, it’s just because she desperately wants a grandchild from her one and only daughter. Sorry to disappoint, but that will not happen any time soon. Children were never a thought in your mind, nor was marriage, a honeymoon, or a burial plot next to another person. Your mother knows this, but the least you can do is show some effort to please her, right? To prove that relationships just aren’t your thing, and you’d much rather have the funds to live a comfortable life all on your own.

23rd street is the small thumb tack on a map where there is a restaurant that holds a very, very, annoying arrangement. 

Your mother had really sold the idea to you. She says the nice neighbor boy next to her seems to be around your age, he brings her the mail sometimes. He seems to have a job, his own car, his own home that sits in a plot next to theirs. His lawn stays mowed, the siding on his house stays clean, and apparently he seems quite lonely considering your mother appears to have watched him enough to know he doesn’t bring any girls home.

At least that she’s aware of.

She doesn’t mention what he looks like and of course, when you’d asked because, in all honesty, that’s the most important thing to you if you’re going to get anything out of this, she simply states that he dresses well, is handsome, and has dark hair.

For all you know, she just set you up on a date with Antonio Banderas. 

What you weren’t expecting though, is to find this restaurant almost an hour late and walk in to find an already half-eaten meal in front of a man who looked at you as if you were any stranger on the street.

 A stranger you were, and so was he, but honestly, he is attractive. That alone made you feel a bit guilty for not having found this place sooner. The idea that the man in front of you did not wait for you shows that he also has priorities that aren’t you. This is probably a huge inconvenience for him too, if anything. 

Imagine your nice neighbor lady telling you to go to a restaurant to meet her daughter? God. The first words out of your mouth are an apology. Not for being late, and not for not even wanting to be here, but for your mother for even trying.

“Sorry about my mom,” you mutter, plopping down into the booth with a sigh. You eye over his food, already knowing that the check will likely be split. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Why the rush?” The man immediately says, pushing an untouched glass of water your way. “I don’t mind that you were late, I was just really hungry.”

You hum at him, waiting for the waitress to come over so you can place the most obnoxious order in the world because you’re really not in the mood to even look at the menu or the prices. Chicken strips and fries, obviously.

“So, what did you order?” You state, eyeing his plate. 

“Steak?” He says it like a question, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world and it definitely is. Clearly there is a half-eaten steak that probably costs over twenty dollars on his plate. Still, you were just trying to make small talk.

The man says nothing after this, offering nothing but an awkward atmosphere. It doesn’t take long at all for you to stop caring about the entire arrangement, as if you cared in the first place.

“Look—” You try to offer, and the handsome man in front of you doesn’t even quirk a brow as he sips his own drink. “I don’t even remember your name, and I know my mom is trying to set us up but—”

“You’re not interested, and you have better places to be?” The man finishes for you as he sits his drink down with a gulp that makes much less sound than your own. “That’s fair. My name is Sunghoon, by the way.”

You nod at him, already deciding that you’ll get chicken strips somewhere else on your own so that you can eat them in the comfort of your own home, alone, without a stupidly handsome man in front of you that has, probably, less interest than you do.

“Well, I’m interested, and I don’t have anywhere better to be,” Sunghoon says, shooting his eyes up at you. “And to be quite honest with you, your mother was right. You are pretty.” 

Taken aback, you’re somehow comforted by his forwardness towards you. He acts just as uninterested as you do but counters that demeanor with his words. You can’t imagine that this is how the man picks up women, there’s honestly no way he would win that way. No wonder he is single.  Then again, you kind of do the same thing. You see an attractive person and you act much the same as Sunghoon right now. Uninterested in anything long-term but clearly interested in something. 

“I’m pretty, huh?” You laugh, sipping the water and internally giving this man an extra three minutes to fully sell the idea of this date to you. “Imagine my surprise to walk in and find that I was set up on a date with someone that is actually attractive.”

“Oh?” Sunghoon quirks a brow. “Is this how you return a compliment?” 

You shrug. 

“Is this how a date normally goes for you—you know, where you’ve already eaten your food and would probably rather pay and leave before she even gets a chance to order?”

“No,” he responds pointedly. “Would you rather me throw a tantrum that you were late?”

“You’d be a lot less dull if you did.” You throw back, eyeing a waitress as she heads over. 

Sunghoon watches as you place your order and watches a bit harder at the way you smirk at yourself through nearly everything you say. You must think you’re clever, you must think he’s willing to chase you or something.

“I’m dull?” He questions, staring you down with narrowed eyes when the waitress walks away. “You just ordered chicken strips at one of the most expensive restaurants in town.”

You’re taken aback a bit, shaking off his little insults and sitting straight up. Interesting date, truly.

“Okay then, Sunghoon—” You say his name as if it’s a joke or something, but you don’t really let him react to it. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a systems software developer,” he deadpans, swirling his very nonalcoholic water in his hand. “Not that you’d know what that is or anything. And you?”

In all honesty, you don’t really know what that means, but it isn’t hard to figure it out. Assuming he must make programs or something, assuming he probably flew through college in order to do it in the way he seems proud of what he does. In all honesty, it still sounds like such a bore. He must talk in code or something in his free time. 

“I’m—uh—I’m a teacher.” You try to laugh, realizing that you’re kind of putting him down when he very clearly must make more money than you do. 

Only now does it set in that your mother stated he has his own home. One that sits directly beside theirs in a neighborhood that you grew up in. One that you tried to find your own home in but ended up in a shitty apartment in the city because it is all you could afford. Sunghoon must make good money. 

“Oh yeah? What do you teach?” He perks up in interest, no longer acting as if he is trying to insult you and instead offering conversation to you with such ease that you almost forget you’re supposed to be getting through the date in discomfort. 

“I teach everything, I guess. It’s just first grade. I swear, I teach them how to pull up their pants properly more than how to spell words.” You smile to yourself thinking of the loud and obnoxious children you teach five days a week. 

Your job is why you don’t want children though. Your job is why you’d rather stay single. All you hear about is how the third-grade english teacher is fucking the fifth-grade science teacher even though he has a wife who is pregnant with their second child. Sometimes you hear gossip about the students themselves. Who in their right mind as an adult would gossip about elementary school kids? It’s no wonder you’re not a favored teacher. You’re sure they’ve said something about you for not having a significant other or a child on the way too. 

Sunghoon smiles through your endearment towards your class, eyes perking up at the plate of chicken strips on their way to you. He doesn’t say much when you thank the waitress and doesn’t really pay attention to the way you devour the first strip in nearly one bite. 

“Seems like a lively job. I just sit around all day staring at a computer screen…” He begins to drone on about his own job, sounding more like background noise in your head if you’re being honest. You can barely hear him over the crunching of your chicken and you’re a bit thankful for that.

“And I think that it was really worth the—” You interrupt his long string of sentences with a call of his name. “Sunghoon, do you have any other interests?” You ask, sipping your water.

He deadpans at your rudeness of interrupting him. Sunghoon doesn’t often go out on dates, nor does he often get asked about these types of things so, he goes quiet, flicking his eyes down to his hands and then back up to you.

“I like to go hiking, I guess? Watching movies? Sometimes I like to cook—”

Ah. He’s one of those guys. 

“Those are like, the most common interests a person can have. You don’t have any special hobbies or weird quirky things you like to do?” You question, trying to see something in him past the fact that he’s nice to look at and has a decent paycheck. 

“I don’t really have the time to put into other things. When I’m not working, I’m busy cleaning my house or doing yard work since I’m usually too tired during the week to do it.”

“God, you are such a bore.” 

Sunghoon realizes now that maybe you’re not just throwing around banter. Sure, neither of you really wanted to come on this date but he could have used the time away from a computer screen to look at his neighbor’s daughter. If anything, it was an interesting offer, and those don’t come by him too often. He had seen photos of you. He knew you were pretty, and he also should have known you were a bit stubborn with the way your mother warned him before the date.

“If I was so boring, would I be sitting here on a date with a woman I don’t know?” He glares over at you. 

“I don’t know, probably. It isn’t the riskiest thing in the world. What? You don’t have tinder?”

Sunghoon looks down again, because no, he doesn’t have fucking tinder and he doesn’t understand why that matters.  “Why does that matter?” 

“Ah, so we are similar.” You smile to yourself in a small win, and you’re not even sure if it’s even an argument at this point. “No time for hobbies, so no time for dating either?” 

He nods slowly at you, completely confused by the way you go from picking his personality apart to finding some way to connect with him. 

“We can wrap this up then if you want?” You offer, still picking at the food on your plate. “I can pay for mine, so I release you from this arrangement.” 

He just sits there staring at you. What a peculiar woman. Do you really assume he isn’t somehow finding the fun in all of this? In all honesty, this date is going off without a hitch compared to many other dates he’s been on. He has never been on a date where he is criticized, nor has he ever criticized a date himself before.

 It’s almost kind of nice, like a breath of fresh air being able to meet someone who isn’t trying to show their best aspects. Someone who is sitting in front of him being as real as they possibly can be. Sure, you’re attractive, but your lack of interest in this date is somehow—flooring.

“What if I want to stay?” He makes eye contact with you. “What if I want to pay for your overcooked chicken?” 

“I’d be letting you win if you pay for me, but you’re free to stay.” You wave him off with your hand, realizing that the chicken is very dry and wasn’t hitting the spot like you’d been pretending. “So, what now then?” You add with a tilt of the head. 

“Admitting I’m interested in you?” He says it with so much confidence that you’re a little bit surprised, because this entire time you’ve been trying to act as uninterested as possible, despite finding some amount of attraction to Sunghoon.

“Poor you,” You coo, pushing your plate away from you and pulling your almost-empty water closer. “Okay, let’s try and make this worth something then.” 

Sunghoon prepares himself to listen, but honestly, he couldn’t have prepared for what you’re about to say to him.

“Neither of us are looking for anything serious right?” You ask, continuing after he nods. “So,” you pause briefly, thinking a bit too hard on how to word it. “Why don’t we just treat it like a tinder date?”

You’re definitely implying that the night could continue together, only to never speak of or see each other again after the sun rises. 

“Are you suggesting I bring you home with me?” He looks at you with a face you can’t really read. 

“Isn’t that what people do when they’re on a date, find each other attractive, but want nothing more?” You reiterate for him, because he seems to have trouble processing what you’re trying to get across to him. “Unless this isn’t your thing?”

Sunghoon pulls his hand up and pushes his hair out of his face for a moment. He’s thinking about it, barely even realizing that you’ve known each other for less than an hour.

“I didn’t take you for the type of fuck on the first date.” He cocks his head, looking at you in a lazy way.

It feels a little painful that the first curse word he says out loud is describing something that involves you and your offer. 

“I’m not, usually, but it has been a while for me and I can’t help but think we could have fun with it.”

He nods, eyeing you down. “Do you want to drive to my house then? Or do I need to bring you back to get your car?”

“Nah, I can drive. I know where you live, considering I grew up next door and all. I can just crash at my parent’s house once we are done.”

Sunghoon kind of shifts his eyes nervously, looking down at the table and then back at you with a lick against his bottom lip. “Speaking of, your parents—” He pauses, fiddling with his hands. “Look, they probably wouldn’t expect me to be the type to uh, get intimate with their daughter on the first date.”

“Only date,” you correct him, amused. “What, you thought we would meet again after this?”

Sunghoon waves you off dismissively. “That’s not the point. I don’t want my neighbors thinking I’m some fuckboy, and I’d rather them not find out because I’m sure your mom would slap the shit out of me the next time I bring her the mail.”

“Sunghoon—” You snort in a mocking tone. “My mom set you up on a date with me, you’re gonna take me home and show me a good time within an hour of meeting me. Imagine if she found out you’re not as sweet and innocent as she thinks–”

His face goes warm, but his eyes darken a bit as he looks at you. “Listen, I don’t usually do this.” 

“Well yeah, you seem too boring to actually have some fun.” 

Offense taken. 

And when he says nothing else to that, you speak up again, this time a bit more gentle. 

“Don’t feel like you have to. I can go home and we can pretend this never happened.”

“No, no,” Sunghoon assures, making eye contact with the waitress as if to silently ask for the check. “I could use the distraction.” 

He was slim when he stood up, obnoxiously attractive getting into his stupidly expensive car, and even the way he drove in front of you pissed you off. He drove the speed limit all the way to the familiar street of your childhood. What a boring, boring man.

When he pulls into his driveway, you aren’t sure if you should park at his house or your own. You realize if you park at either your parents will wonder why you’re parking in their driveway but not in their living room, or wonder why you’re parked in the clean-cut Sunghoon’s driveway because he would never fuck their daughter on the first date. 

You opt to park a block away, walking to Sunghoon’s house and feeling a bit silly for hiding. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Fitting,” you say as you step into his living room and scan the way he is entirely boring.

“What?” He asks from behind you, watching you judge his space.

“Very monotonous, very you.”

Sunghoon sighs at your constant critiques of him, but he’s smiling through it because you’re still here, and you’re the one who suggested coming home with him.

“I’ve gotta say, I’ve never brought a woman home just to have her insult me,” he laughs, stepping around you and placing his jacket on the end of the couch. “I can imagine that your place hasn’t been cleaned since you moved in.”

You glare at him, slipping your own jacket off and throwing it on his floor out of spite.

“I am a comfortable mess, Sunghoon, and you–” you scan the room once more, “are very clearly uncomfortable.”

He shifts his eyes for a second because, yeah. It’s not that he wouldn’t enjoy having colorful photos on the walls or a couple of knick-knacks lying around. Arguing about it isn’t your purpose for being here though, and he’d much rather skip the banter at this point.

“I can admit that your jacket looks good on my floor,” he takes a step forward, attempting to be as bold as he typically would be with a woman who knows how he is in bed. He’s never had to play off of his own cleanliness though. “I’m willing to make a mess of this house if you take more off.”

Oh, okay.

“Oh, so you can be interesting?” You mock him once again, reaching for the hem of your dress (yes, dress.) and looking at him. “You want to see my clothes on your floor?”

Sunghoon watches you intently, seeing your thighs being exposed more and more as the dress raises. His body is already reacting, becoming more attracted to your witty sense of displeasure toward his entire personality and lifestyle. After all, he’s a computer whizz and you deal with screaming children all day. He wonders why he expected anything less. Little do you know though, he fully intends to have you praising him before the night is up.

“I’d like to see you on my floor,” he answers, reaching for your dress and pulling it up further and above your head. “If I’m being honest, anyway.”

You were trying to go slow with the removal of your dress, mostly to see how he reacts to seeing a woman nearly naked in front of him but damn. You weren’t quite expecting how forward he’s being about it. Here you were expecting to be fucked missionary without any foreplay in a bed with all white sheets, right next to a washer and dryer, socks on, lights off. 

“Oh,” you gasp, slightly out of character in his opinion but his body reacts even more to that. He’s already allowing himself to get aroused so, naturally, his confidence is also bubbling up through each thought and word he decides to say to you. 

“What, you’re shocked?” He laughs, dropping your dress to the floor and scanning your body. “I can admit that I’m a little shocked too.” 

You look at him in confusion, moving your arms over your chest and wondering what the fuck he’s talking about. 

“You wore a matching set for a first date? With a complete stranger?” He mocks you this time, stepping even closer and running his fingers along the hem of your bra. You can feel the warmth from his thumb gently rubbing the skin as he does it and instantly your body tells on you in the form of goosebumps. 

“I’ll have you know,” you’re the one stepping closer this time, “I always wear matching sets, because I like to feel sexy.” 

You’re a liar. You definitely wore them just in case.

He hums, mere inches from your face as he looks down at you. It feels like he’s fucking looming, it feels like he must have his heat set too high or something.

 It gets even worse when his eyes don’t leave yours, but you feel his hand drop from your chest only to hear the familiar sound of a belt being unbuckled. He stares at you while he does it, his hair falling in his face at the movement of what he’s doing waist down. For some reason, that does it for you, and you’re already rubbing your legs together as you stare right back at him. 

“I think that’s bullshit,” he smirks, slipping his belt from the loops of his pants and tossing that to the floor as well, and then he brings his face another inch closer, “and don’t think I can’t tell that you’re turned on.” 

You don’t back down, nor do you admit that he’s absolutely right. You just look at him, watching a strand of his hair fall in front of his eyes that are beginning to darken by the second. 

“I’m not turned on, believe me, it’ll take a lot more than–” You’re cut off by him planting his hand directly between your legs, two fingers pressing your panties slightly into you. 

“Hm?” He encourages you to say that again, but you’ve got your breath caught in your throat at his extreme change in demeanor.

Still, he’s looking directly at your face, watching the way you try to think of a lie. 

“You wanna keep pretending that I’m boring?” He asks, sliding his fingers up and pressing against your clit. 

You shake your head, finally dropping the act and blinking at him with empty thoughts. 

“That’s what I thought,” He ticks his tongue at you, now pulling his fingers away and showing you that even through your panties, his fingers are already soaked. “Now take the rest off.”

You do as he says, watching him step away with his shirt untucked and his pants undone. You note that he grabs a condom, which for some reason reminds you that you’re definitely about to get railed into the next dimension if that bulge behind those pants implies anything. 

Standing there with all of your clothes thrown around his living room, you watch him harder than you already had been. He’s slow when he sets the condom down on the table, and even slower when he walks up to you and places a hand on the top of your head before guiding you to sink down.

“Wha–right here?” You ask, feeling the clean carpet offer relief for your knees rather than the hard wood floors of the room over. 

“I said I wanted to see you on my floor, didn’t I?” He smiles, already admiring how shameful you’d appear to be if your parents saw you naked and on your knees for him. 

You nod, looking up at him. When you reach forward to actually lower his pants though, he steps back and continues to create distance between the two of you as he backs himself up to the wall and lounges against it. 

“Crawl to me,” he instructs, wondering if it’s too much for you but letting out a pleased sound of relief when you instantly do it.

Would you normally let a man tell you to do that? No. Would you ever actually listen to a man who speaks to you like this? Fuck no. You can’t defend your actions when you do it and you also can’t lie that you’re absolutely fucking dripping over it. Like, honestly, he’s going to have to deep clean this fucking carpet by the time you leave this house. 

When you reach him, you can feel the heat in your cheeks at the very idea of him from this angle. You sit on your knees, lifting your hands to his pants and lowering them before he can try to draw the process out even longer. You can hear him let out a short chuckle at the way you try to be quick with it, and you already know he’s about to say some shit.

“I didn’t expect you to be this eager.” He talks down to you with a deep and raspy voice, one that sounds entirely sensual. In terms of what he says though, honestly, you shouldn’t expect much more considering how the two of you practically roasted each other before this very instant. 

You ignore his words, letting his pants drop to the floor and now reaching to pull his briefs down. You were incredibly unprepared for his size as you watched it stand stiff and raging in front of your face. Not a single hint of precum is seen, and it makes you feel kind of pathetic for how wet you’ve already gotten. It almost feels like a challenge now, to make him feel just as desperate as you do now. 

Thankfully, your throat is fairly trained for sucking men until they’re trembling. Hopefully, all those dudes you’ve fucked around with before come in handy and don’t let you down this time around. 

Sunghoon watches you from above, smiling over the way you stare at his length before finally touching it. He keeps his cool though, wondering how just over an hour ago you were ordering the worst food a restaurant has to offer, scoffing at his job, his hobbies, and now look at you. What a sight. 

“Go on,” he encourages you, pressing his hips forward so that the head of his cock hits your cheek, “let me see how messy you are.”

You roll your eyes at him, gripping the base before closing your eyes and breathing in through your nose. The very second you wrap your lips around him, he has both hands on your head, not moving it, not pushing you down or anything, just resting there. You’d think it was sweet if it weren’t for the fact that he pushes his hips forward after four whole seconds.

So, he’s not going to guide your mouth, he’s going to hold it there? Okay, you guess. Thankfully, he’s not being super rough with it like you anticipated. If anything, he’s sliding himself into your mouth much as you’d do on your own. 

He hums out at the feeling of your inner cheeks hugging against his length, pressing in more and more with each thrust of his hips until he finally gets the majority of his length past your lips. He can see you breathe through your nose, but he doesn’t feel resistance at all so he presses his hips in even more, essentially until he’s blocking your airways and your throat is restricted around him in a gag. 

Instead of pulling your head back though, he feels your fingers grip the back of his legs, you’re trying. He holds your head there in place, feeling your throat massage his cock in probably one of the best ways he’s ever felt. 

“Shit,” he seethes out between a bite of his lip, “you’ve done this before?” 

The very thought of you letting your throat be used is enough for him to want to keep doing it, but hearing your response as a half-moaned gag vibrating around his length is a whole other story. 

He releases his hands from behind your head just to see if what he thinks you’re implying with those vibrations of sounds is right, and god is he thrown for a loop. You stay there, and even when he pulls his hips back before fucking into your throat once more, you still stay there.

He’s going to lose his goddamn mind because never has a woman been able to withstand this amount in their throat for this long for him. Enough to actually have him a little worried that you’re essentially suffocating on him. 

Sunghoon snaps his hips back, pulling out of your mouth and leaning down just a bit to grab your chin and guide your eyes up to him. 

“Breathe,” he says, watching the way you smirk at him as if you’ve won some sort of award. He narrows his eyes at you, “You can choke all you want babe, but you’re gonna have to not be this cock drunk if you want to pretend that you’ve got the upper hand.”

That motherfucker. You’re trying to make him show just a hint of desperation for you and he completely flips the tables on you? 

Before you can even argue again, he’s guiding your lips back on him. You decide that it’s not over yet, he can talk down to you all he wants, but you’re going to be the one laughing at him by the end of the night. 

You allow him to place his hands back on your head, and you kind of like the weight of his cock on your tongue if you’re being honest, but god damn does he have a harsh rhythm. His hips snap languidly but he buries himself deep.  Even when you try to look up at him as your nose presses against his pubic bone, he’s looking down at you so casually. Like he feels okay. Just okay. 

This time, when he pulls his hips back, he doesn’t have to hold your head steady. You chase his length even as it tries to slide from your mouth, and you start to move your head back and forth in time with his hips. You finally receive a moan from him when you reach a hand up and cup his balls, massaging them in one hand as your saliva bubbles out from around your lips.

“So fucking messy–” he chokes out in a surprised moan, praising you for somehow making this feel even better than it already did. 

You hum around him again, feeling the weight of his cock pulse against your tongue and you start to taste more of his precum. Shamefully, you’re starting to want this more and more. You want him to call you messy, you want him to bruise your throat. You don’t mind, now that you’ve seen a snippet of what he’s like when he shows his pleasure.

Just a moment goes by when you feel his hands grip your hair, pulling slightly and following the rhythm of your movements, just putting a bit more force behind them until he finally presses you one last time against his pelvic bone, swirling his hips and stretching out your throat impossibly more around him. 

“Just like that, yeah,” his moans echo throughout his empty walls and it causes your eyes to flutter as you try to breathe in through your nose. When you gag, he moans again. “Fuck, you know exactly what you’re doing.”

Then, he releases you and watches with a smirk at the way you pull back in a deep breath before wiping your mouth. 

You’re not sure why, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel proud. Maybe it’s because he’s managed to pull out this weird, needy side of you, or maybe it’s because he looks incredibly good looking at you like this after the two of you spit insults at each other all night. 

“Do you want me to return the favor?” He asks, finally unbuttoning and removing his shirt.

Seeing him now, you stare at his chest and toned arms, wanting to grab onto them and feel him do whatever it is he wants to do to you. He, on the other hand, can’t tell if you’re nodding to his question or looking him up and down slowly. 

“You were so talkative earlier, what happened?” He smiles, stepping forward and falling to his knees himself, nudging your legs open in one go as he presses you back against his floor. “Do you want to fuck my tongue, or no?”

He continues to smile at your silence, eyes trained between your legs as he spreads them and then looks up at your face. “No?” 

You shake your head, leaning back on your elbows to watch him and take a breath in.

“It’s hard to talk when you’re like,” you motions towards him, “that.”

He chuckles, taking it as a compliment before snatching a pillow off of his couch and tapping your thigh to get you to lift up. You do so, allowing him to place the pillow under your ass before he settles himself there.

His eyes stay locked on yours as his fingers start to trail to your core, slipping through your folds with such ease that your embarrassment shows plainly on your face. 

“Messy,” he compliments, lightly tapping against your clit before lowering his head and blowing softly against the glistening heat you offer to him. “Keep your legs spread for me, darling.”

You still watch him, his eyes glaring up from between your spread thighs as he lets his tongue fall from his mouth and lick one long and languid stripe up your slit, stopping just before your clit and pulling back as if he’s tasting. You’re not sure what it is about him but goddamn, he must know he looks good when he’s pleasuring a woman. 

Despite him asking you to keep your legs spread for him, it appears that he doesn’t trust you to do it because he’s still got one hand prying one of your legs apart and his head moving in all sorts of ways as he allows his tongue to lap every part of you besides your clit. Even his other hand, exploring and gently placing pressure against your entrance– the way he’s doing this makes you want to press forward, it makes you want to do exactly as he asked. 

You roll your hips forward, and he instantly attaches his lips to your clit. You stop, and he trails back down and flicks his tongue against your folds in a teasing way. You grind forward, he’s right back on your clit, flicking his muscle the same way and eliciting a whine from you. 

This time though, when you roll your hips back, he takes both hands and presses your legs open as far as he can get them, spreading your pussy out across his lips for him to take full control of. He nips at your clit before licking down, pressing the pointed muscle into you and only then does he release your legs. Now, he’s sliding both hands under your ass and rocking you against his face, angling his head so that he can lick inside to taste your plush and wet walls.

God, you’re gonna lose it. Even if you didn’t want to, you’d think the way he’s moving his mouth is enough to get anyone to take advantage of it. You moan, pressing forward and back against his mouth as your own fingers fall to your clit. You rub when you press forward, feeling his warm and wet saliva drip from your slit and down to your ass, and you rub harder when you pull back, watching his eyes flutter open and still somehow manage to glare at you.

And just as soon as it started, you blink and his face is right there. You would have let out a shocked sound, because jumpscare much? But you moan instead, because he hovers over you with a smirk and an arm between the two of you, his fingers instantly sliding into you as he attaches his lips to yours with little more than a moan of his own. 

“Have you ever tasted yourself?” He asks, licking against your lips and scissoring his fingers open inside of you.

You have, but for some reason it tasted better this time when he prods his tongue against yours. Perhaps it’s because it’s from him, or maybe it’s because you are a little obsessed with the way he navigates sex. 

When he pulls back from your mouth, now losing himself a little bit in the heat of the faces you make when you feel good, he can’t help but give you a moan along with your own. You sound so fucking good when you’re not talking your shit, and god he knew that mouth could do more than be annoying. 

“Open up,” he whispers against your lips, licking your bottom lip as he thrusts his fingers deeper into you, “let me hear you.”

You can’t really help it. When you open your mouth, you’re practically panting for him. His arm is moving harshly as he fucks his fingers into you and causing you to nearly lose balance on your elbows, but he holds you there with his other arm wrapped around your waist, still licking against your lip and smirking when you still can’t say anything. 

“Louder,” He instructs, at least wanting you to moan louder for him if you’re going to act like this when he’s touching you. “Let your momma hear how good it feels, babe, go on.” 

Your eyes shoot open after that, and god, he is the fucking worst. Or maybe not, you can tell he does it on purpose. His fingers curling up inside of you and putting intense pressure against a spot that takes every man ages to find if they manage to even remember it.

“Sunghoon,” you groan, rolling your eyes back while rolling your hips forward, hand shooting to his and holding it there, “can’t you just fuck me already?”

He chuckles, dipping his head down to give a sharp bite against your nipple, his fingers still curling up into that spot. 

“Soak my fingers first.” He says, floored by how good your voice sounds when you want to get fucked. 

He continues to suck and bite against your nipple, and that sends shocks of pleasure straight down to where his fingers meet your g-spot. You could come right now if he’d just–

You roll your hips forward harder, grinding your clit against his wrist and essentially fucking yourself on his fingers now. He moans against your nipple at the movement, biting down harder as he hears you just above him holding your breath. It seems like you like not being able to breath, which is just fucking great for him. Your mom would be so heartbroken, honestly. 

“You think you can ride my cock like this?” He asks, popping your nipple out of his mouth and moving those bites up your neck and to your ear, “Think you can take it?”

You nod with heat rushing through your body, feeling his wrist stiffen up for your pleasure to grind against. 

Fuck, he can feel your cunt gripping his fingers as you work yourself up and it takes everything in him not to pull his fingers from you and absolutely bury himself into the tight heat you’re offering, but he holds back, pulling from your neck and watching the way your brows furrow and your mouth falls slack.

“Yeah, that’s it babe, ride it.” he encourages, hearing your wet slide against his fingers with each movement of your body.

You shake as it washes through you, feeling his fingers remain in their spot against your little bundle of pleasure inside of you. You feel like you can explode from this alone and he practically forces it out of you, pulling his fingers out and immediately rubbing circles on your clit. 

“Let it go for me,” he encourages in a pleasured sigh, watching your body tremble involuntarily as your face contorts to what anyone else would assume is pain. He moves further back and watches your body soak both him and his floor. “Fuck, yes, such a fucking mess.”

Well, that’s never happened before and the fact that you’re still orgasming is also new. You feel so sensitive, releasing in waves that offer little in terms of self control. Your hands shoot to his arm, gripping him so tightly as you try to hear his moans for you, but to be honest, you can’t hear a fucking thing through this wall of arousal in your head. 

Finally, you open your eyes and he’s just looking at you, smirking at the dripping against his legs and the wet spot on the floor. 

“Messy, messy girl.” He says with a chuckle. “Dirtying up my living room like this? Come on, get up.”

This is the first time Sunghoon has ever had a woman squirt for him, and honestly he’s been trying for ages to let someone experience this through him, goddamn was it sexy to see. You look absolutely fucking gone at this moment, and he might be fucking in love with the image. So badly does he want to see those shaking legs try to stand for him, so badly, does he want to see you fucking buckle.

“Come on,” he says again, not giving you enough time to even think about standing before he’s pulling you up on wobbling legs and pressing your toward the couch.

He watches how you wobble over, shuffling your feet with your knees turned inward with each step. He can’t help but lick his lips, seeing how your arousal drips down both of your legs in a shameless show of how much his fingers alone could do for you. 

“Sorry,” You rasp out as you make your way over, brain fogged from the orgasm and unable to feel much at all outside of the pulsing inside of you. “I’ve never–”

“Don’t worry, I like the mess.” He smiles, snatching up the condom and tearing the wrapper open with ease before rolling it down his length, staring at you.

Oh, right, he still hasn’t even fucked you yet. Fuck, he’s good.

He sits himself next to you, pulling an arm around your waist and guiding you on top of him. He doesn’t even think twice at your shaking legs, soothing them as you follow his hand and position yourself against his long neglected cock being held up with his other hand. 

“Gonna keep that promise?” he asks, still smoothing his hands over your legs and looking up at you. “Gonna take my cock better than you did my fingers?” 

You nod, feeling a pulse of electricity inside of you. Willing you to take more, wanting to be stretched further.

Besides, you know that once you’re seated with his length fucking impaling you, you’ll at least have his broad shoulders to hold onto if you need to stay steady.  

And when you sink down, you hear the sound you’ve been trying to pull from him all night. He lets out a soft moan, almost a whimper if you think hard enough about it, and it ignites a brand new fire in you as you take him in inch by inch. Feeling the searing stretch offer a bit of pain despite the sheer amount of wet you have collected between your legs. 

He can feel you clench around him in the attempt to adjust, and your legs shaking only offer even more in terms of pleasure as you envelope him entirely with your heat. He can’t help but moan, almost unable to keep up his dominant persona with a pussy so sweet wrapped around him. God, he loves blind dates, honestly. 

“Mhm,” he hums, rubbing both of his hands now against your thighs as you sit yourself flush against him and wait to adjust to his size, “I definitely like you.”

You fall forward with a small laugh, the irony of the situation a bit too much on top of your mind falling helplessly and embarrassingly fast at how lucky you are to have a mother to set you up with such a man. 

He’s a bit soft at this moment, wrapping both arms around your waist and listening to your breathless laughs against his neck. Loving the way each inhaled chuckle forces your body to squeeze his cock delightfully tight. 

God, You’re pretty, and so fucking annoying. Just his type. 

“I’m still going to fuck you senseless though.” he finally says, feeling your body still at his words as you lift a bit, just to slide back down on him.

“Is that a promise?” You ask weakly, pretending that he didn’t already manage to do it with his hands alone. 

He nods, the softness in his eyes disappearing instantly when he feels the drag of your cunt hug his length. He doesn’t hold back his moaning for you this time though, and he shows no shame in slapping your ass, and guiding you even closer to his chest. 

You stand on your knees a bit on top of him, watching his eyes zone in on your tits in his face. Hopefully, he’s going to keep that promise too.

His hips snap up harshly as his hands grope your ass and spread you apart. He snaps his hips again and again, nearly pulling his entire length out of you each time just to fill you up once again. Stretching you open and loosening you up, the pleasure of it hitting him right in the throat each time with small grunts against your nipple when you bounce at the movement. 

You whimper out, the sounds still echoing throughout his house along with the sounds of your thighs slapping against his. His grunts are deeper, and all of the sounds together sound like a desperate soundtrack of what you’ve always wished sex was like. He fucks you good, despite your legs still shaking, and despite the pain of his teeth biting against your skin now. 

You can’t help it when you fall forward again, hugging around his head as he starts to relentlessly fuck into you at a faster pace, the thrusts going from slow and deep to tight and pointed. His thick cock easily pressing against that same spot his fingers had been teasing earlier. You choke out at the feeling, legs jolting and causing you to sit again out of sensitivity.

He doesn’t falter at your failure to stay in position for him, and instead he gropes your ass harder, swirling your hips around him. You can feel how hard he is inside of you, splitting you open and pulsing at a near constant pace. 

“Ride it,” he instructs, much like he did with his fingers and you follow suit, lifting just slightly and sliding back down again. “Harder,” he demands, pulling his head from your grasp and looking up at you with a wild smirk. 

You look down at him, wondering how pitiful you must look up here. He appears to be loving it though, absolutely in love with the way you struggle to do what you swore you’d be able to. 

Trying again, you begin to bounce on him and he grants you his fingers on your clit for that, moaning at your own choice of rhythm and leaning forward yet again to pop his presumed favorite nipple back into his mouth.

The ministrations of his fingers paired with his mouth sends you spiraling once again into a world of pleasure. The shaking in your legs become more of a driving factor than anything as you ride him better than you’ve ever ridden anyone.

Finally, he’s the one moaning out and trying to string together choked words of praise.

“Your grip is so tight,” he mutters out, kissing up your chest and to your neck, “i can fucking feel you dripping down my legs.” He adds in a moan, losing himself in the way you move your hands through his hair and scratch at the nape of his neck. He wants to ruin you so badly, and he’s already drenched in you. He wants more. 

You knew you’d have him just as desperate as you by the end of the night. Now look at him, muttering out strings of curse words as you do nothing but ride and pet him. He’s melting under you, and you’ll be damned if he comes before you get that second orgasm. 

Shooting your hand to your clit to replace his lazy movements, you work yourself up to your second orgasm and he just watches you, taking in the image of you practically riding him into oblivion until you’re clenching even tighter around him, throwing your head back and shooting your hands to his shoulders as you harshly roll your hips into his. You’re working yourself through it when he starts pumping into you again, short and tight thrusts pushing you through your orgasm until he’s gripping you equally as hard, holding you down on him as he spills out and into the condom in more of a purr than a moan.

You watch him, dazed out of your fucking mind as he bites against his bottom lip and slowly blinks through his orgasm as you. Part of you wishes he just did it raw, wanting so badly for him to make a mess of you like you did to him.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You find yourself with him at your parent’s house just a week later, eating lunch in the chaotic mess of your mother’s kitchen. It’s funny, really, how he’s trying to be polite to her as if he’s not about to take you next door and probably fuck you against an open window just to blow his own cover.

“I told you he was a keeper,” your mother compliments him as she lays a plate of croissants on the table. “Just yesterday he offered to mow our lawn when we head off for vacation this weekend!”

She’s praising him much like you wouldn’t, and you kick him under the table for trying to suck up to her even more now that he’s fucked you several times already. 

“Did he now?” You ask, glaring over at him and then smiling sweetly at your mother. “Guess he is kind of a keeper, maybe.”

His eyes shoot to you and he smiles around his bite of croissant at you. 

“You were right though,” he counters you towards your mother, “she’s definitely a handful.”

Your mother crosses her arms as she leans against the counter, looking between the both of you. 

“How many dates have you been on without telling me?” She asks, looking at you.

“A few…” If she considers it a date to meet up and fuck every other day this week.

“We had lunch a few days ago.” he adds, backing you up. It’s just that the lunch wasn’t exactly like–you know, at a restaurant, and if she knew that cum was on the menu, perhaps you both would be slapped shitless. 

“So, are you guys going to be exclusive, or?”

Sunghoon looks at you curiously, and you look back at him. 

“I dunno, it’s only been a week, Mom.”

She nods, clapping once before pushing off of the counter and leaving the kitchen. 

It’s silent between you and Sunghoon for a few moments before he speaks up.

“I wouldn’t be against it.”

“Against what?” You ask, looking at him with a raised brow. 

“You know, like, dating. I can’t imagine anyone actually putting up with you besides me, anyway.”

You kick him again from under the table, causing him to wince out in pain before glaring at you. You smile in return though, giving him a shrug and now rubbing your foot against the bruise you probably just caused. 

“I find myself agreeing with that statement,” You laugh thinking hard about your next words. “But for some reason, agreeing with you pisses me off more.”

Sunghoon nods, smiling through the pain of the bruise forming on his shin. 

“Good thing I know how to fix that, huh?” He finishes the conversation, fully aware that he knows how to shut you up and make you love it. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

[thnksfrthmmrs]

nobody ever wants to do mad libs with me 😔

[arina24]

Winters with Winter

Aespa Winter x M Reader

3.6k words

Tags: SMUT, some fluff, blowjob, missionary, virgin

There was a nip in the air. Winter's arrival was faster than expected. You realized this was going to be yet another winter you were going to spend being a little more lonely than you wished. It wasn't all too bad. Winters weren't completely horrible. The opportunity to snuggle with a hot cup of coffee or chocolate was comforting. You just wished you were snuggling with someone, that's all.

It was yet another chilly morning as you made your way to work. That particular morning, winter had carried with her some generous showers, and fortunately you didn't forget your umbrella that day. In fact, you had two. You forgot an umbrella the previous day and bought an extra one from the store, and now you just travel with 2 umbrellas, because why not.

As you got off from the metro train, you fidgeted with the tight button, trying to open it, before a young woman catches your eye. She was maybe a couple years younger than you, it was hard to tell her age with how strikingly cute she was. She was in a simple blue tee, with a hoodie for protection from the cold. Blonde hair flowing down her neck, and bouncing off the shoulders of her petite body.

She was extremely beautiful and all, but the reason she caught your eye was because she seemed to be extremely nervous, biting her nails as she kept looking outside at the pouring rain, as if she could wish it away to go from 100 to 0 in 2 seconds. You didn't know what it was for, but she clearly needed to be out there. Something made you walk up to her. "Hey, need an umbrella?" You asked. She looked up to you, freeing her nails from her mouth.

"Umm, Yeah! Yes I do! OMG I've got an interview and I was so stupid to forget my umbrella." She paused for a moment, seeming to get over the initial excitement of getting hope. "Wait, if you give me yours, what will you do?" She looked even cuter close up, her hair almost magical and making her look like some sort of angel.

"It's alright, I've got another one. Yesterday I forgot mine and bought an extra." You replied, for some reason wanting her to take it and almost pushing the umbrella in her hands.

"Thank you, I wish I could thank you more but it's already really late for the interview. How do I return this to you?" She put her hands in her handbag. "Maybe I can pay you something..."

"No no, just go do well in your interview. Don't worry about all this."

"Thank you again, I hope you get all the good things in life." She replied before rushing away into the rain with your umbrella in the air.

The small interaction made you feel better. You lost an umbrella. You might never see her again. But it made you feel good. In fact as fate would have it, you would see her again. But not the umbrella.

A few nights later, as you were going home in the metro, couple of fingers tap your shoulder. You look back to see the same girl, in a pretty pink dress this time, surrounded by a thick hoodie. The dress only came down to her thighs, and you were wondering how she went out in this chilling winter with exposed legs.

"Hello, umbrella man. Do you remember me?"

"Wha- Umbrella ma-? Miss I've got a name."

"I bet you do, but you haven't told me it."

"Y/N" You offer your hand, covered in gloves. Unsurprisingly, her legs weren't the only unexposed skin, and her bare palm meets your gloves.

"Winter."

"Yeah, it's cold. That's why I've got them on."

"No, my name's Winter." She replied, giggling, making the cutest noise.

"Huh? Cute name. No wonder you seem to be handling it so well."

"Yes I was born with the powers to handle winter, which my parents sensed so excellently." She joked, giggling again. "Oh wait your umbrella, let me return it." She shoved her hands in her hand bag, searching for a solid 2 minutes before she looks up at you with a dejected face. "Sorry... I forgot it again."

"That's alright, I didn't hope to retrieve it anyway. How did your interview go though?"

"It went great, I was offered the job. The least I can do is return it for you. Which station do you get off on?"

"Antarse Street"

"Oh that's my stop too. My house is a 3 minute walk from there. If you come with me, I can return your umbrella." She replied, excited at the possibility.

You weren't sure if you wanted to go. It was late in the evening and you didn't really want your umbrella back, it was an old one which you would have thrown away in a while anyway. You hesitate to reply.

"I'll even make you some coffee. Though I can't attest to how good it is. No one else has had my coffee." She continues, hoping to win you over with coffee.

The thought of being the first other person to have Winter's coffee was enough to convince you. You continue talking with her till the stop comes. She yaps a lot. You listen. She likes that. She talks about how she’s been so desperate for a job, until she finally found one at the interview after your chance meeting. She had just graduated college and was more or less alone in the city, which made you a bit sad, but also made you feel she was in a way, like you.

She's clumsy, but endearing. Her hair was tied up today. The hoodie covering up most of her dress. You wonder how she'd look in just her pink dress and her hair flowing free again. She would look like spring flowers, you thought. Winter.... an ironic name for her. You step off the station with her, and start walking with her. She begins blowing into her hands as the chill gets a bit more intense, late in the night.

"You alright?" You ask, a bit concerned. She was clearly not a very forward thinking girl.

"Yeah... maybe I shouldn't have forgotten my gloves as well." She replies meekly.

"You can have mine if you want. I'm not very cold."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah your hands seem to be freezing."

"Alright.. maybe you deserve a bit more than just coffee." She said with a smirk.

You weren't sure what that meant, but you removed your gloves, tapped it off a couple of times to get rid of any dirt and offered it to her. She put it on and smiled. It felt intimate. It was your gloves around her hands and not your hands. But it felt just as intimate as holding her hands. The look in her eyes said she felt the same.

Her apartment was more than a few blocks away, more than the 3 minute walk she promised. But it felt nice to be walking in this weather with her. It’s been a while since you’ve walked alone with a girl like this, even though the cold made her less talkative. Soon, the two of you reach her building. The apartment building wasn't anything to speak of, and her house less so. Things were a mess, even the living room.

"You live alone?"

"Yeah, it's a 1 bedroom, recently moved here for the job. Sorry for the mess... I just forget things." That much was clear to you already. She continued sheepishly, "You see, I wasn't expecting visitors."

"Yeah? Bet it would have been spic and span if you did." You reply, mocking her.

She stares at you, pretending to be offended, and hits your shoulder. "Meanie. Now wait here as I go make your coffee." She says, shoving some clothes off a seat in the couch to create space for you. You sit there awkwardly and look around the rest of the room.

There’s a table and few chairs, but not where they’re supposed to be. Table in one corner, and chairs in the opposite corner, also filled with clothes. The table has a strewn collection of random items, among them a picture of what looks like a younger Winter with her parents. She’s posing cutely for the camera near a Mickey Mouse cutout, with her parents standing behind the cutout.

“Do I look cute in that pic?” Her voice calls out, catching you surprised.

“What- I mean yeah, yeah, baby you is a cutie. These are your parents?”

“Yeah.. they passed away in an accident last year. I’ve had this photo on my table ever since.” She replies in a silent tone. “Oh I’m so sorry Winter..”, you reply. It made you wonder how she really was doing, she mentioned she didn’t really have any friends in the city, and with her parents not being here either.... must have been rough. She really didn’t show it if she did, always having a cheerful and playful tone, except for this one instance. You wondered how well you were hiding yours.

“Enough being sad, you came here for coffee so let’s have it.” She breaks the silence, and presents two cups with generous amounts of coffee. Actually, you came here for your umbrella, but you decide not to remind her of that fact and just accept her coffee. “So moment of truth, let’s find out if my coffee is actually good or I’ve just been gaslighting myself for the past 2 years.” Both of you take a sip of her coffee.

“Well... it’s certainly coffee.” You reply, then immediately wondering if you should have just lied. “Huh? I didn’t expect that.” She says, a bit dejected, but continues, “Well, you’re gonna have to make do with it.” The two of you finish drinking down the rest of your cups.

“Let me remove my hoodie, it’s already hot enough in here.” She says and takes off her hoodie in front of you, and frees up her hair, now in just her pink dress and flowing hair like you were imagining earlier. She looks more angelic than you were expecting somehow, even with minimal makeup after what seemed like a long day at her work. You couldn’t help but stare a bit too long.

“What are you looking at? Want me to get you one of these dresses? I think you would look good in this too.” She teases you, as you break away from staring and reply to her. “Why not just give me this one? I gave you my gloves and umbrella after all.” She moves closer to you. “How about I give you something else in return?” She says, in a low whispering, almost erotic tone.

“Hmm, like what?”

She leans in even closer, and her lips catch yours in an expected kiss. You are taken aback, as she pulls away. “Wait... was it not okay? I’m so sorry...” she stumbles, before you reply to her by kissing her back, erasing all suspicions from her mind. The kiss is innocent initially, but quickly turns lewder. Your tongue entering her mouth as her lips part, your tongue playing with hers in a lewd dance, as you taste all of her.

She tastes like sweet honey, and makes you let out a soft moan as you throw an arm around her neck and pull her in even closer to you. Her hand begins at your chin, and travels down your chest, slowly caressing you, before finally resting on your bulge, which was quickly growing harder and harder for her. Your other arm travels down her back, then catching her cute ass, which you squeeze softly, making her moan.

Pulling away from the kiss, you ask her, “You like that baby?”

“Yes I do.” She replies in a very soft, submissive tone, which turns you on even more.

“If you’re gonna give me the dress, we’re gonna have to take you out of it."

“That seems logical.” She replies and begins to fidget with her zipper, before you help her and get it all off her and throw it on the chair, adding to the already big pile of clothes. She’s in a soft pink bra, matching her dress, and black panties. You bring one hand down to her panties, and can see that it’s already dripping in her wetness.

With your other hand you tease her boobs over her bra, before unhooking her bra and throwing it off into the unknown. You circle your fingers around her nipple, and then bring your mouth near it. You start softly sucking on her nipples, as the slightest touch seems to stimulate her a lot, making her moan loudly and suppress various curses.

“Let’s head for your bedroom~ Look like we’ll defenitely be needing one tonight, and not just for sleeping.” That makes her giggle, and she grabs your hand and pulls you towards her bedroom. Entering, you lock the door, and the room is somehow even more of a mess than her living room.

You just push away the clothes, then softly push her on the bed. She tugs at your shirt, indicating she wants you out of clothes too. With her help, soon you’re out of your shirt and pants, with your cock almost wanting to burst out of your boxers already with how hard it is. She rubs her hand over your boxers, teasing your cock.

“My my~ You’re so hard already.”

“All because of you, baby.”

“Yeah baby? Why don’t you show me exactly how turned on I’ve gotten you.” Even the way she said baby in a sing-song voice made you feel like it was laced with honey, or maybe it was poison, but it seemed to make you addicted to it either way.

She continued rubbing your cock over your boxers, almost wishing it would come out like magic if she did. You fulfill her wishes and pull down your boxers swiftly, as your cock pops for her.

“It looks very pretty.” She says.

“Since when do cocks look pretty?” You laugh.

“Since today.” She says and wraps her fingers around your cock slenderly, and begins softly stroking you up and down. It was clear she didn’t have much experience with this, as she seemed to be doubting herself while doing so. “You’re doing well baby, you can hold it tighter if you want~” You encourage her. That instantly makes her more confident and her face brightens up.

She responds so cutely to praise, you think. She starts stroking faster and holding you tighter. She spits on her hands, and gently rubs it all over your cock, making sure not to miss a single spot. Her hands just glide over your cock now, making you feel even better as you begin moaning for her softly.

She brings her mouth closer to your cock and starts licking you with her tongue, going up all the way from your balls to your tip, spreading her saliva all over your cock. You place a hand on her head, caressing her hair, which makes her release another cute moan, and she places her lips around your cock. Firstly sucking on your tip, before taking the entirety of your length inside her mouth.

It hits the back of her throat, making her gag a little, although she quickly recovers. She bobs her head up and down on your cock, her tongue swirling around it as you moan louder and louder. Every moan you release and every time you caress your head it makes her more confident, as she sucks on you faster and faster.

After sucking for a while, she releases her mouth from your cock and stops for a pause, catching her breath. “You’re tired already baby? The night is just starting.” You tease her. “Not a chance.” She replies before taking your cock back in her mouth, for another round of sucking.

Her spit now drips out from her mouth, dripping down to her chest, making a mess. Her face and your crotch are both wet with the same thing now. She takes a break for the second time, more out of breath now as she takes heavy breaths with saliva still stretching out from your cock to her mouth.

“That’s enough babe~ Let me return the favour now.” You say and push her down with her head on the pillow. Your fingers reach her panties, and now they have no semblance of ever being anything but a wet dripping mess of her juices. You slide those panties down, exposing her pussy which looks just as cute as her, glistening with wetness.

You slide one finger in, as her juices coat your fingers. You shove the finger in your mouth and taste her juices. “It tastes like sweet nectar.” You tell her. “Don’t you want more of that where that came from, baby” She teases you.

You do, so your mouth goes down to her panties, and you spread your tongue across her pussy. Licking all across, getting a taste of her juices directly, as it makes her moan. “Fuck.” You slide a finger in her pussy at the same time, and start fingering her pussy, your fingers slick with her juices.

You reach her clit with your tongue, and every lick on it stimulates her to the point that she’s screaming. “Fuck! You’re doing so good! Don’t stop... Please don’t stop...” You can feel the neediness in her voice. Her neediness to cum for your mouth. You insert one more finger, and you’re alternating between sucking and licking on her clit, with two fingers sliding in and out of her pussy.

You could tell she was getting close with how she was twitching and basically grinding her pussy on your tongue faster than you could lick her. You don’t stop, listening to her desperate moans begging you to keep going.

You insert a third finger when you sense she’s about to cum. She begins squirting as she finishes, her liquids bursting out from her pussy and making a mess on your face, and wetting the sheets of her bed and the clothes around with her liquids. She holds on to your hair indicating you to keep going, and you do it till she’s made the entire bed wet with her juices.

“Fuck... you are so good at that...” She remarks, breathless. “Seems like you wanted to make an even bigger mess on my face than my cock did on yours.” You tease her. She just giggles before replying. “I hope we’re not done yet though.... I still need to feel your cock somewhere else.”

“Yeah? Where do you need to feel it?”

“You know where.. dont act silly” She says, blushing and looking down.

“Winter miss I think you’re well beyond the point of acting shy. Say it or you’re not getting it.”

“I need it in my pussy. I need it deep in my pussy. I wanna feel every inch of your cock in me.”

Hearing her say the thing you wanted to do most to her made you gather all your energy for perhaps the last round of the night. You get on top of her again. Lining up your cock with the pussy you just made squirt all over. She looks in your eye with lustful desire. Her eyes conveying all her deepest wants with nothing hiding it. Yet she somehow managed to look like the cutest girl in the universe. You weren’t sure how. You move your hips forward. She was so wet that your cock slipped right in.

Her pussy was tight, and she wraps her legs around you, not willing to let you go till you give her what she needs so badly. You comply, beginning to move your hips with a rhythm. She places one hand on your chest and pulls your body closer to her. She wants your body close to her. She wants your body ON her.

You catch her lips with yours as you continue thrusting. By this time both your faces and mouths are messes, but neither of you could care less, and the kiss is more intense than last time as you continue fucking her pussy.

She moans through the kiss, her moans escaping into your mouth and she gets loud for your cock in her. As you pull away from the kiss you can hear just how much moans she’s been suppressing. The sounds of your thighs clapping against hers was loud, but her moans easily blow over all of them.

“Fuck baby, your cock feels so fucking good.” All the honey in her baby is now gone. This one is driven by pure unadulterated lust.

You could listen to her moans for years. But you couldn’t keep going for years. All good things come to an end, and you could feel you were close to cumming. “I’m close Winter.” You let her know. “I want it IN ME. Please. Please.” She begs and wraps her legs tighter around you. Not willing to let go either way. You wanted to cum in her anyway.

She intertwines her fingers with yours and holds on to your palm tightly. “Cum in me baby. I want you.” She clenches her pussy around your cock tightly, which makes you release. Your load flows into her pussy filling her up, cumming more than you thought you could cum. As you move your hips back you can watch how much you came in her, with it now dripping out of her.

The two of you try to clean up (as much as you could after that tiring session) and cuddle into each other’s arms trying to fall asleep. You remember what she told you at the end of your first meeting. “I hope you get all the good things in life.” You think you already did.

[holysweetnachofries]

how do you guys make any friends in your universities, i've tried talking a lot (considering how socially anxious i normally am most of the time) but i still can't land a single circle and it makes me really sad

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want Masterlist

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe.

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader)

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

GENERAL TRIGGER WARNINGS/THINGS YOU CAN EXPECT

18+ MDNI, SLOW BURN yandere, romantic yandere with the 4 robin boys, rest of the batfam aren't yandere but still care about you, reader is a girlfailure, ex-step siblings (the dead mother trope), reverse harem, healthy dosing of enemies to lovers, my stupid romance novel tropes, fem!reader and afab!reader, all romantic leads 18+, the graphic violence, death and other such triggers of the original series, attempted sexual assault (chpt. 3), themes of depression/suicide, family death, themes of poverty, alcohol, mentions of alcoholism, my own mix of canon because honestly the canon right now is embarrassing, atypical/soft yandere behaviour, fluff and angst, suggestive and eventual smut, an eventual shared darling/polyandry, SLOW/INCONSISTENT UPDATES (aiming for once a month)

0. - The Second Worst Birthday Ever 1. - Not Quite An Isekai 2. - First (Second) Introductions 3. - Dreams And... 4. - Nightmares Too 5. - Meet The Adams Family 6. - Round Two. Fight! 7. - Black N' White Knight 8. - Jason Fucking Todd

Word Count as of the Chapter 6: 37k

Series tag (anon asks, snippets, updates and actual chapters all included): #series:WWW

More important asks/FAQ

Question about the boys being romantic or platonic Another question about the boys being hesitant or not Question about Damian being platonic or yandere Questions about Bruce being platonic or yandere Important note about the ex-stepsis thing Future sneak peek ft. Dames being stupid Question about happy/sad ending Future sneak peek ft. Dick being stupid

Fanart! Please give everyone here lots of love, their work is amazing!

Tim's Introduction Jason's Introduction Reader Under The Table SceneTM Reader Before And After The Worst Birthday Ever

[astonmartinii]

a very nonsense christmas | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem singer!reader

face claim: sabrina carpenter

based on this request: Hi, how are you can you please write something with Charles x singer reader like a part 2 of "nonsense... or is it?" based on Santa doesn't know you like I do music video something very wholesome idk you can ignore this if you want, hope you have a good day/night 🤍 - @rana030

MASTERLIST | BUY ME A KO-FI? | PART ONE

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,441,934 others

yourusername: do you hear those slay bells ringing? i love christmas so much that i'm giving you guys six new songs for this holiday season !!

view all comments

user1: mama is going straight on the nice list for this one

user2: christmas is saved

charles_leclerc: so proud of you cherie

yourusername: says the muse

charles_leclerc: you're my angel on the top of the tree

yourusername: as long as you're under the tree ready to be unwrapped

pierregasly: STOP

alexalbon: we MUST protect the sanctity of christmas

yourusername: oh alex, do not listen to the ep...

alexalbon: too late just pressed play

alexalbon: YOU NEED THE CHARLES DICKENS ???

yourusername: amazing word play, am i right?

alexalbon: no.

charles_leclerc: he doesn't meant that babe. lily has a commitment, he's just lonely

user3: y/n was like "if you weren't aware, i am getting DICKED DOWN for christmas"

user4: as much as i'd peel all of my skin off to be in either of their positions, good for her

maxverstappen1: i think nonsense christmas has single handedly killed my investigative journalism career. i am not analysing charles' massive sack

yourusername: damn right you won't be

charles_leclerc: maybe you should analyse it, you could learn something from it

maxverstappen1: hOW DARE YOU

yourusername

liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc and 1,887,341 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, taylorswift & killatrav

yourusername: thank you to all the lovely people who came to the fruitcake release party ! xx

view all comments

user7: CHARLES AND TRAVIS IN ONE PLACE ALERT

user8: so does this mean we can get a y/n and charles appearance on the new heights podcast?

charles_leclerc: do you think people could tell i was about to pass out while playing the piano?

yourusername: definitely not !

maxverstappen1: yes we could

charles_leclerc: WHAT I WAS JUST NERVOUS AND I DIDN'T WANT TO LET Y/N DOWN AND TAYLOR WAS THERE SO I DIDN'T WANT TO EMBARRASS MYSELF

maxverstappen1: okay i didn't need the pity party. you were good, unfortunately very good. i need to learn piano now. i have to beat you in everything

yourusername: maybe you should've forgone the santa suit... it was quite warm

charles_leclerc: but you wanna be mrs claus ? (i also have a big north pole lol)

alexalbon: ENOUGH

user9: wait so like, was the grid at the release party?

user10: based on most of their instagram stories, and y/n's stories i'm gonna say yes

taylorswift: i had so much fun !! i love fruitcake and tell charlie his piano was great

charles_leclerc: SUCK ON THAT @maxverstappen1

taylorswift: ?

charles_leclerc: we've got bad blood taylor's version featuring kendrick lamar?

taylorswift: i see

maxverstappen1: he's the reason we can't have nice things

user11: someone free taylor from lestappen

killatrav: okay. the girls throw the best parties. esteban and pierre i own your team now, you guys gotta get better at drinking

yourusername: careful travis they're french ...

killtrav: is your boyfriend not also french? he's like a puppy dog

yourusername: HE'S MONAGASQUE

charles_leclerc: i am NOT french

estebanocon: i only threw up because eggnog is not what you guys advertise it to be

pierregasly: i'm not gonna lie i don't remember even seeing you last night

user12: okay so get invited to one of these parties is definitely on the bucket list now

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 1,922,033 others

tagged: yourusername, killatrav

charles_leclerc: charles and travis 🤝 just happy we got a chance

view all comments

user13: if he's not like them i don't want it

user14: if santa doesn't pull through with a man like them under my tree this year ... imma be mad

killatrav: travis and charles 🤝 having girlfriends that make us giggle and swing our feet

charles_leclerc: does the honeymoon phase ever finish?

killtrav: well it definitely hasn't for me

maxverstappen1: NOOOOOOOOOOOO

alexalbon: say it ain't so

yourusername: haters gonna hate 😎

alexalbon: he is so happy it is bordering on insufferable

charles_leclerc: alex :(

alexalbon: i am very happy for you charlie and lily is definitely very happy for you, but if you talk to me for the TWELVE HOUR flight to brazil again i will terminate this friendship

killtrav: i am so confused

user15: poor travis and taylor are just being exposed to the grid chaos

yourusername: you posting this like i'm not the luckiest girl in the world

charles_leclerc: i just love you so much and i'm so glad you shortlisted me for your music video

yourusername: yeah spolier alert there was no shortlist. i wanted you and i didn't want to get out right rejected...

charles_leclerc: as if i would reject any offer from you i think i would've torn down maranello if they said i wasn't allowed to be in it

scuderiaferrari: ?

user16: i'm so obsessed with how much charles has embraced the wag life

user17: can't believe i get to live a life where i can bop along to music about how good in bed charles leclerc is

user18: they better not break up cause i may be tifosi but i shall be streaming

yourusername added to their story

yourusername

liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc and 1,833,922 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: santa doesn't know you like i do baby

view all comments

user21: all i want for christmas is even more y/n and charles content

user22: mum and dad have kept us fed over the winter break

user23: i'm not ready for them to be separated when the season starts again :(

charles_leclerc: not to be that person but we're so hot

yourusername: no, you should say it louder

charles_leclerc: WE'RE HOT

maxverstappen1: can you people knock it off or we're not coming to your christmas party

yourusername: ERM ??? 🫤

alexalbon: you people have single handedly made me the grinch

yourusername: but but but ??? you all begged for an invite :(

charles_leclerc: FAKE and that's why you're all getting coal from us

user24: my god i am so lonely

user25: if i don't wake up to a charles shape gift under my tree i will not make it to next christmas

danielricciardo: just to be sure, this party is not going to be filmed and turned into a music video?

yourusername: it's just an old-fashioned shin dig girly don't worry

yourusername: or by the tone of this, should i be worried?

danielricciardo: no!

charles_leclerc: do NOT ruin my home please

danielricciardo: no promises xoxoxo

user26: y/n might want to film the party but I NEED THE FOOTAGE

user27: @tedkravitz boy do i have a gig for you

danielricciardo

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,093,445 others

tagged: charles_leclerc & yourusername

danielricciardo: do NOT drink the eggnog at a y/n christmas party this is a public safety announcement

view all comments

user28: i would commit unspeakable crimes to be present here

yourusername: if you weren't a fake fan you would've listened to fruitcake and would know we spike the eggnog 🤷‍♀️

danielricciardo: i am a fan !!!!!!!!!

yourusername: you asked me and yuki how we escaped the north pole last night

yukitsunoda0511: don't think i've forgotten about that, say goodbye to a tow in quali old man

danielricciardo: IT WAS A COMPLIMENT ELVES ARE CUTE?

charles_leclerc: don't call my girlfriend cute that's my job 🤨

danielricciardo: do you people ever let me live? i am battling a hangover like no other please stop shouting at me

charles_leclerc: maybe someone of your old age should manage his drink better

danielricciardo: THAT'S IT I'M GOING

yourusername: thanks we did actually want the kitchen floor back

user29: daniel calling y/n and yuki elves kills me

yourusername: we're not elf height we're cutie patootie height 💅

yukitsunoda0511: amen

alexalbon: i will endure the torture because that was fucking insane

maxverstappen1: @yourusername you're in charge of all after parties now sorry

yourusername: let charlie win and you got a deal

maxverstappen1: i'd rather drink my gin and tonic in a ditch than let that happen

charles_leclerc: BOOO

alexalbon: cocktail recipe immediately @yourusername

yourusername: you've changed your tune ?

alexalbon: i had fun, sue me. plus i am actually happy for charlie but please no more singing about his dick

yourusername: i can't make any promises

charles_leclerc: and there's plenty of material to get the creative juices flowing

alexalbon: FUCK OFF

maxverstappen1: FUCK OFF

user30: the grid will never know peace, not even at christmas time

charles_leclerc

liked by taylorswift, yourusername and 1,893,446 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: nothing like the holidays with the love of your life

view all comments

user35: how down bad all men should be

yourusername: best holidays ever !!!! love you charlie xx

charles_leclerc: my christmas wish last year came true, and now you're stuck with me

yourusername: no one i would rather be stuck with

charles_leclerc: I LOVE YOU

yourusername: I LOVE YOU MORE

user36: good thing i got presents this year or the sheer sight of this couple would make me so jealous i would spontaneously combust

user37: real

landonorris: you will see to the crime of the stupid amount of mistletoe you had up at that damn party

charles_leclerc: have you seen y/n? (don't answer that) obviously i want any excuse to kiss her

landonorris: i DON'T CARE I HAD TO KISS DANIEL FIVE TIMES I WILL NEVER RECOVER

danielricciardo: i know you enjoyed baby

landonorris: @yourusername @charles_leclerc YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS

yourusername: idk it looked like you enjoyed it to me

landonorris: you WATCHED?

yourusername: i filmed it :) top blackmail material, don't crash into charlie OR ELSE

charles_leclerc: thanks babe

landonorris: @georgerussell63 get the gdpa to intervene nOW

georgerussell63: eh i'm quite entertained

user38: this really is the giving season huh

arthurleclerc: do i mean nothing to you?

charles_leclerc: you're nowhere near as cute as y/n 🤷‍♀️

yourusername: awwwww charlie

arthurleclerc: EXCUSE ME? WHAT HAPPENED TO CHRISTMAS SPIRIT?

user39: charles is really ride or die lol

note: have a very merry christmas! i hope you guys all have a great holiday season and enjoy this quick one! i've been super busy but wanted to give you all a lil christmas treat - much love xx

[missaengg]

Hello! I enjoy your fics featuring the LaDs men, especially Rafayel. Would you consider writing another with feral Rafayel? Everything is with the full consent of both parties, Rafayel is just urgently needy and difficult to satisfy. It could be another Ebb and Flow Day, where he desperately wants to feel and taste the MC. No matter your decision, thank you for opening asks and reading this. Please continue to write what you enjoy.

Hi!! Sorry I haven't been able to get back to you more quickly! I've had this idea in the works now and thought this might be a good fit for a feral Rafayel. Hope it satisfies~ If it doesn't, I have a few more fics planned for him 🤭

Missing You Pt. 2: Rafayel Comes Home

Pairing: Rafayel x f!reader Tags: mdni, smut, pwp, creampie, p in v sex, established relationship Word Count: 1783 Read Part One here. Rafayel's been away for three weeks on a tour, and he's finally come home. But he's missed you terribly. ao3 link here.

Your bedroom feels lonely.

Too lonely. 

Especially with Rafayel still gone on his tour. 

You sigh, rubbing lotion on your arms, the last step of your bedtime routine. You eye the dildo molded into the shape of Rafayel’s dick sitting on your nightstand. The one he gifted you almost two weeks ago. You debate whether you want it to lull you to sleep like it did last night, an almost nightly occurrence. You feel your cheeks color because of how dependent you’ve been on Little Rafayel since it arrived, but you miss your boyfriend terribly, and well… having this replica almost makes it feel like he’s with you… almost.

A pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, and you jump, your heart pounding in your chest. It’s late at night, and you’re home alone. A burglar? A murderer? A rapist? Your brain assumes the worst… 

Your Hunter training kicks in, and you sink your elbow into the intruder’s stomach feeling pleased when they groan in pain, but then freeze because you recognize the sound of the intruder’s voice and the scent of their cologne.

His cologne.

“Rafayel?!”

“Geez, now I remember why I made you my bodyguard,” Rafayel wheezes.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t hear you come in,” you apologize, feeling terrible for how hard you hit him, but… “What were you thinking, sneaking up on me?”

“Hi, cutie,” he mumbles into your hair, simply holding you tighter against him. “Wanted to surprise you.”

You shake your head and sigh. After being apart for almost three weeks, you can’t stay mad at him. You’re just glad he’s returned. “When’d you get back?”

“Just now. Came straight here.”

You melt into his embrace. You’ve missed this so much. His warmth. His hugs. “Welcome back,” you murmur.

Rafayel nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. “God, I missed you.” He breathes you in deeply, almost as if he’s attempting to commit the smell of you to his memory.

He exhales just as deeply as he breathed in, and the long, puff of air hitting your neck tickles, feeling unnaturally hot on your skin. But when Rafayel presses his soft lips in a trail of feather-light kisses down your neck, it burns even hotter in their wake.

“I missed you so… so much,” he hoarsely whispers.

His greedy hands roam your body with a needy urgency, mapping every ridge and crevice. They grab at your clothes, your flesh… your breasts. He kneads them under his palm, squeezing and massaging them together, sultry, breathy moans fluttering from his parted lips.

“Wait, Raf, I want to look at you. I haven’t seen you in three weeks,” you protest, pulling at his arms so you can turn around and face him, but Rafayel locks his arms, pulling you in so tight you’re suffocatingly snug against him. 

“Let me just… just taste you for a bit….” 

The sounds Rafayel’s making are downright erotic. Even without the sensation of his mouth on your neck and his hands on your breasts and your stomach, the noises coming out of his mouth alone are flooding your body with an unbearable, feverish heat.

“I missed your body so much.” Rafayel pants heavily, expelling low, throbbing groans that tingle down your spine into your own throbbing desire. “I missed this. I missed you.”

Your breath hitches when he pinches your nipple and aggressively thrusts his hand between your legs, rubbing his open palm back and forth against your clothed sex. Both his arms are entwined around your chest and between the apex of your legs effectively trapping you against his heaving chest.

“Raf, I missed you too, but–”

He interrupts you by grazing his teeth along the contour of your shoulder. The friction of his hands and his teeth on your body are overwhelming, and you can’t help, but tremble, your knees growing weak from the buzz of electricity coursing through your veins.

He slips the hand that’s been rubbing you under your nightshirt and into the waistband of your underwear, brushing his pointer past your clit and sliding in between your folds. He shivers when they feel how wet you are for him.

“Baby, you’re driving me crazy,” he croaks. “Been dreaming about this for weeks.”

Rafayel grinds the firm erection in his pants against your lower back, placing a sloppy kiss on your neck. He circles his slick finger around your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves in a series of short strokes of varying pressure. Light, firm, long, hard. All while his rock hard length drags up and down the small of your back.

You breathlessly whimper, each stroke of his sinful finger shooting a dazzling spark deep through your center.

“Raf…” you rasp, reeling when a particularly firm pass causes your vision to flash white. 

“Gotta… gotta feel you… gotta…” Rafayel babbles, and it’s obvious how much pain he’s in from the strain in his nonsensical rambling. “Wanna be… inside… be inside… fuck… gotta…”

He lets out an agitated, strangled cry, and before your dazed mind can process what he’s doing, he’s pushed you up against the wall, caging you in, hiking your nightshirt up around your waist, tugging your underwear down mid-thigh, fumbling to pull his own bottoms down with a single hand. Just enough to grant him access.

You brace yourself on the wall with your palms.

Rafayel plunges in, letting out the most delicious guttural groan as he stretches you open with the entirety of his length. 

“Fuck, Raf,” you keen, unable to bite back the throaty moans tumbling from your mouth.

“Still think Little Rafayel is bigger than me?” he snickers.

You feel yourself clench around his shaft stuffing you past the point of being full, and you realize you were wrong. So very wrong. Rafayel didn’t embellish Little Rafayel at all. If anything, Little Rafayel is an underestimation of him.

“I was– was wrong,” you whimper. “You’re so much– so much bigger.”

You can’t see Rafayel’s face, but you just know he’s smirking in an infuriating ‘I-Told-You-So’ manner. “Need to punish you for thinking… thinking so little of me.”

He snaps his hips against you hard, and you cry out as his bulbous head slams into your cervix, pain and pleasure spreading through your flushed, quivering body. You feel Rafayel shudder, and he stumbles a step forward so you’re flush against the wall and he’s flush against you, driving deeper into you.

You arch your back, your head falling back to rest on his shoulder, and Rafayel nestles his cheek in your hair. He moves his hips in shallow undulations, so shallow his tip drags on your cervix with no reprieve. 

“Three weeks,” he husks achingly in your ear. “Three weeks without feeling your sweet, little cunt.” His shaky breaths wisp against your earlobe. “Did your sweet, little cunt miss me?”

Your heart thrums from the longing pulsing in his voice, the same longing you yourself have felt over the agonizing weeks he was gone. “I slept with Little Rafayel every night–” Rafayel makes an adorable, indignant noise, so adorable your heart beats faster and you smile, “–but it’s just not the same. It can’t replace you. It can’t replace falling asleep in your arms.”

“God, I love you,” Rafayel slurs.

Your words must’ve unlocked something primal within him because he rocks his hips, thrusting with passionate need as if he’ll die if he can’t have you right this very second. There’s an agonizing frenzy to his lunging, a frenetic desperation to feel you, taste you, take you.

You push your hips back to meet him, and together, you roll your hips against one another, the yearning you both felt conveyed without words in the way your bodies seek out the other. Just as he desires to have all of you, you desire to have all of him, and your bodies meld together into one.

His ragged gasps feed the delirium swelling in your lower body, ebbing and flowing in waves. Crashing over you. Muddling all your senses. 

“Raf…” you plead.

Rafayel understands what you’re asking immediately, and he drives into you with a new sense of urgency. “Baby, come… come for me,” he croons. “Missed your… your sweet voice… Wantcha to… to sing for me.” 

His voice cracks on the last word he utters, severing the last shred of your composure. A final, roiling wave overtakes you, pulling you under, and you’re tumbling, caught in the throes of its turbulence. Spinning. Drowning. Unable to tell up from down.

You can’t breathe. 

You can only helplessly call out his name.

Your body reacts beyond your control, and as you pulsate erratically around the entirety of Rafayel’s length, he breaks, spilling into you with uncontrolled ferocity. Painting you with weeks of pent-up frustration. Weeks of being away from you.

Your knees buckle, but Rafayel wraps you into his embrace, saving you from crumpling to the floor.

“Raf, I want to see you,” you whine, and Rafayel chuckles, relaxing his hold just enough for you to turn around.

But before you can even look at him, his lips are claiming yours in a deep, tender kiss threatening to turn your legs into jelly once more, and you’re melting in his arms again, your heart feeling as though it might burst. 

He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours, grazing the tip of your nose with his.

You can finally gaze into his eyes, and you’re blown away by how he just looks at you, his deep violet eyes dark with desire, love, and lust. For you.

 “I’m never leaving you for this long again,” he murmurs. “Almost killed me.”

He kisses you again, tracing your bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, gently prodding at the crevice between your lips begging for entrance. You accede, parting your lips for him to slip in. In one swift movement without breaking the kiss, he picks you up, cradling you against his chest, and the next thing you know, you’re falling on your bed, Rafayel hovering over you.

“Three weeks, baby. Three weeks.” He slides his hand up your leg, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone. “Gotta make up for… three weeks.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, gently scratching the back of his head and running his hair through your fingers. “I’m off tomorrow,” you whisper.

Rafayel utters a heady groan, and he’s sweeping you up in another dizzying kiss stealing your breath away. “Never again…” he says in between kisses. “Too long…”

You wrap your legs around his waist pulling him flush against you.

You know it’s going to be a long night, but you don’t mind. Not even a little. Not at all.

[xazse]

AFAB!SUGURU GETO X OLDERMALE!READER

Notes: I wanted to hop on the Afab!Geto because I love it!

Tags: Deepthroating, manhandling, blowjobs, NASTY SMUTTT, mentions of Afab!Gojo (little surprise near the end

Pairings: Afab!Suguru Geto x OlderMale!Reader

Suguru doesn’t know how to feel about his next door neighbor: you, you’re very nice, maybe even more than nice: you insist on bringing him and satoru your cooked food if you’ve made too much some days, but hell he isn’t one to complain about free, warm food. You’re an older gentleman, late 30’s, a very nice hefty build on you, Suguru won’t lie and say he isn’t attracted to your prominent features; anyone would be.

He makes eyes at you sometimes, coming out to talk to you when you’re doing yardwork offering you a sweet concoction he made. You’re so polite with your speech, the way you carry yourself, everything about you screams maturity.

But he also loves your mean side, the side where your gripping his hair so tightly he knows he’ll have a headache later: but it’s so worth it when you shove his face towards your crotch, inhaling your scent, your cock isn’t even out and suguru’s head already feels like he’s on cloud nine.

His tongue weighs his mouth down as he waits for permission, permission to have your cock in all its glory.

“Fuck.. ple” he pleads with you, when you finally grant him the privilege, he hurriedly pulls your pants along with your underwear around your knees. You waste no time in shoving his face into your crotch again, his tongue laves all around your cock, seemingly having no control or care to give you specific pleasure. Licking up all traces of your precum has him so distracted that he doesn’t even hear you telling him to suck you properly until a heavy hand pulls him back: and forcing him to take you until the hilt.

He’s sputtering while you use his mouth as you please: pulling him all the way off just to fuck his throat all over again, it’s a repeated motion you do multiple times, before you pull him off of your cock and have him give your heavy balls some attention, he alternates between then but always making sure to give some attention to your tip in the process.

Suguru doesn’t even have to look down to know his panties are sopping wet, he wants so badly to reach down and play with his clit but you won’t allow that, that’s for you and you only to do. But finally, finally after a few more moments of Suguru pleasuring you do you have him face down, ass up. You pull his thin panties to the side, His cunt really was dripping wet, it embarrasses him when you point it out over and over calling him a dirty slut, smacking his ass to emphasize just how dirty he is and of course he groans.

You line your weeping tip up with his hole, making sure to use your tip to press on his clit a few times just for good measure youll tell him. The stretch of you pushing past him is too good, better than those lonely nights where he’d have to use his fingers to get a half assed orgasm if he can even call it that.

You give him a few moments to breathe, allowing him to have calmness before you wreck him and that you do, after a few of experiment strokes do you really give it to him.

Hammering into his cunt has him howling into the couch, his naughty pussy keeps sucking you back in everytime you pull out: suguru feels like he has a lack of air from the strong thrust of your hips, he whines and whines, you feel his pussy clench around you. You take a hold of his hips holding him in place while his cunt contracts around you and he’s cumming around you, he yelps and pleads while you help him ride it out slowly.

You both go still before your cock starts fucking into him again, suguru knows this will be a long night of you wringing orgasm after orgasm out of him.

Satoru really can’t sleep, he’s wide awake and painfully throbbing in his shorts, hearing the hard grunting from you paired with sugurus loud whining has him breathing hard. He doesn’t bother with underwear most nights so it’s rather easy for him to slide his fingers inbetween his slippery cunt,

he knows he shouldn’t indulge, knows he shouldn’t be touching himself like this especially to someone he’s so close with.

But he can’t help but rub his clit, a circle motion done over and over, he should really really stop, it’s gross, but his lust outweighs everything. Satoru has felt a little attraction towards you but compared to the way suguru looks at you: he’s got nothing on the table, but he’d also never get involved with sugurus relations. He keeps up with the circle motions but feels empty: so empty, trying to finger himself just isn’t doing it: satoru wants more, something bigger, he can’t do anything but pathetically try to get off: already feeling tears decorate his eyeline from frustration.