#WHY ARE YOU DOIN HIS BRAIN LIKE THIS

[keeps-ache]

hehe. crackling

[todayisafridaynight]

The bookmark tag was #holder until i think of a tag for these asks but To Be Real even I forgot what it was...

BUT YEAH thanks so much for reading and I'm glad it's :] Intelligible At Least :] obviously I would be up for reading anything that came to mind after putting you and your followers through All That but understandable... A lot of people I've shown the checklist items or pointed out specific behaviors to have actually said similar [i.e. I'm In This Picture And I Don't Like It], so I totally get what you mean, too!

I think a lot of my picks wound up being generalized trauma responses/aftereffects of abuse or neglect [hence I meandered off into just talking about Jo's father half the time], so I guess it's to be expected a lot of them don't read as being CSA-specific or are broadly relatable; it's not like he's supposed to be read that way, after all. I just wasn't able to zero in on many of the more specific ones because I've Never Seen Jo In This Situation Chief I Don't Know What He Thinks About His Name Or His Body Or Mirrors Or Sex Or Affection I Don't Know How Well Or Poorly He Sleeps [Presumably Poorly Though He Has The Second-Reddest Eyes In The Whole Game]

I don't really think I'll have anything to add though unless Infinite Wealth goes off the rails or I actually continue reading the book... so that will have to do... I originally was just riffing on RGGJo's attachment issues, self-destructiveness, and specific entwinement of sexuality/aggression/romance, and his portrayal in my fic lined up pretty closely, so I thought it'd be interesting to apply the same lens to Y7Jo...

But Yeah x2 thank you for the opportunity to talk about it and I'm Glad It's Intelligible At Least x2

THANK YOU i really should change that tag to something better... <- i will immediately forget to do so like a jackass

BUT YA OF COURSE OF COURSE i was truthful when i said it was a real good read (but once again. i have -5 speech skills so i can't properly word SHIT) and was a thorough examination of jo's trauma and how it manifests in him and how it's exhibited through his actions. ALWAYS a big fan of that :)

[rowarn]

soap x reader x simon

soap doesn't know how to make you cum on his cock so he asks his trusted lieutenant to teach him how.

sub!reader, dom!simon, switch?soap, getting fucked by soap in simon's lap, wet&messy, cumming untouched, size difference/kink, threesome, fat dick!soap, MDNI

<3 just some horny nonsense that was spinning in my brain!!!

When Simon found out that sweet Johnny was struggling with something personal and even as embarrassing as making you cum, Simon’s mouth moved faster than his brain with an offer he never thought he would utter.

“I could help you out with that,” he had said, making Soap pause, mouth agape. Simon almost rescinded those words, brushing it off as a crude joke.

But then Soap spoke.

“Would you?” he asked, blue eyes glistening hopefully.

And Simon felt his cock twitch in his jeans.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t make you cum, Soap had defended on the drive over to your shared flat. Soap was good with his tongue and his fingers, could make you squirt by just rubbing that sweet little spot inside your gooey cunt.

The problem was whenever Johnny got his cock in you, he just could never get it right. The pace was wrong, the angle was off, he went too deep – anything that he could do wrong, he would do wrong.

“It’s never been like this with other…partners,” Soap shyly whispered. Though it was dark in the truck, Simon knew his friend was blushing in embarrassment, “I-I don’t know what I’m doin’ wrong this time.”

“Well, we’ll figure it out, Johnny,” Simon assured, shoving the door open the second Soap turned the engine off.

You and Soap lived on the top floor and the elevator ride up was stifling. Soap was fidgeting, clearly more than a little nervous about how this night was meant to go.

You and he had been together for a while – long enough to move in together. Simon wondered what finally made Soap reach out for help on this little problem after so long.

But Simon wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He’d wanted to get his fucking hands on you from the second you bounced into the room, radiant and so sweet in the way you shyly clung to Soap’s arm. You were precious and Simon’s not proud to admit he had gone home and tugged his cock fucking raw over the way you had batted your pretty lashes at him when you looked up at him – so much smaller than him.

He knew he would be a fucking wreck the second he had you within his grasp and fuck, he was right.

His hands were shaking as he held you in his lap, gripping your knees to keep you spread wide for Soap to slot his hips between them.

You were a sensitive little thing, Simon learned. You came so easily around Soaps fingers when he worked to stretch you open for him. If you came so easily then why the fuck couldn’t Johnny get you off from his cock?

You were trembling, wide eyes teary as you watched your boyfriend carefully work his cock into you. The stretch was always so good, always making your eyes roll back in your head. Your cunt was so slick and sticky, eagerly swallowing every inch of Soap. So fucking messy. It made Simon's mouth fill with saliva at the sight of how wet you were, he wanted to taste you so badly.

Johnnys cock was fat, thick and heavy, no doubt burning your poor little cunt with how wide he had you stretched around him. You creamed around him, juices dribbling down his balls and wetting his sweatpants. You even dripped all over Simon who held you in his lap.

When Johnny started thrusting, Simon immediately understood why you couldn't seem to cum. Sure, it felt good, and you were moaning - twitching and gasping every time Soap sunk in and brushed against any sweet little spot inside. But Soaps rhythm and pace were inconsistent and he didn't seem to have any idea how to aim his cock to really hit those gooey spots that would have you falling over the edge into bliss.

Simon took a few moments to admire the scene unfolding right in his lap. You, creaming all over a cock that couldn't make you cum. Soap desperately humping your pretty cunt haphazardly and sloppily. He wasn't even bothering to touch your clit. Beneath his mask, Simon grinned.

It was so cute how Johnny went so stupid the second he got his cock wrapped up in a tight, hot pussy.

“Johnny…” Simon finally spoke, “Slow down.”

Immediately, Soap did as he was told. His pace slowed, careful rolls of his hips replacing the jackhammering.

“There's a good boy,” Simon praised, eyes darkening at the sight of Soap’s ears turning red, “Go nice ‘nd deep You gotta hit all those nice spots inside.”

Soap’s pretty, blue eyes were half-lidded as he watched you writhe and twitch in his Lieutenant’s arms. With every deep stroke, both of them could hear the sticky, wet noises of your pussy swallowing every inch.

One of Simon’s hands trailed down your thigh, inching down and down. Soap’s eyes followed every movement until his fingers finally found your hard little clit. Immediately, your cunt clamped down around Soap’s cock and the Scot moaned.

“You gotta touch this cute little clit,” Simon teased, “If you really wanna know how it feels to have a pretty cunt cum around you.”

Soap nonsensically nodded, blunt nails digging into your hips as he held himself back from fucking you like a madman again. He kept Simon’s words in mind - deep and slow. Aim for those little spots. He knows where they are, he knows where it feels good. Just don't think with his cock - that's all he had to do.

With Simon’s callused fingers swirling over your sticky clit and Soap’s fat cock stuffing you full just right, it came as no surprise when you finally came.

Soap wasn't able to stand how good it felt with how tight you were squeezing around him, pulsing through every wave of your orgasm. You were gushing, creaming sticky and wet all over him. Simon could feel you clit twitching under the pads of his fingers.

With a shout, Soap filled you up with his load, “Fuck!”

As the two of you came down, Simon’s big hands carefully stroked up and down your thighs until their trembling ceased.

“You know, Lt,” Soap panted, looking up at him through his lashes, “I think I could use a little more hands on training. How about you really show me how it's done.”

Even though Simon had quietly came in his own pants, his cock was chubbing up again at those words.

“I like the sound of that, Seargent.”

do not modify translate, or repost to other websites. reblogs welcome!

[2tarbell]

MEAN SOMETHING — KOOK!READER

only one person knew how to handle your drunk best friend…

(drabble. © 2tarbell 2024)

you were going to end rafe cameron.

on the one night, the one night, you wanted some alone time and to be away from the boys, he decided to get sloppy drunk. of course, your other best friends have no idea how to take care of a drunk person and you honestly wondered how they even took care of themselves. which left you to slide on some slippers and drive over.

now as you stood before the front door in your victoria’s secret yoga pants and pink sweater, waiting for topper to answer it, you wonder why you let yourself get pulled into shit like this.

it’s rafe, that’s why. that’s always the reason why.

the door swings open to reveal a frazzled topper and kelce, you would’ve laughed at them if you weren’t so pissed. they took in your attire, the prissiness still evident even your pajamas. but you looked slightly disheveled, something they didn’t see often. both boys snorted at the sight of your bunny slippers but you quickly cut them off.

“say anything and i’ll chop your dicks off. where is he?” you seethed.

your tone brooked no argument and they both stepped aside to let you sashay in. kelce had his keys in hand as he mumbled something about rafe being ‘in his room’ and ‘on the floor’.

god was really testing you tonight.

you shooed them away, locking up the door behind them and stomping up the stairs. just praying he wasn’t choking on his own vomit or something.

the sight that greeted you literally made you pause and take out your phone, nails tapping the screen as you took a picture. rafe cameron, laying on his back and seemingly enthralled by the ceiling fan. it was genuinely amusing and kind of adorable. but the bottle of whiskey sitting next to him reminded you of your duty.

“rafe. sit up.”

his head snapped up at your voice, a boyish grin on his lips. he looked younger when he was drunk, stress and age having melted away.

“heeey, baby, whaddaya doin’ hereee?” he slurred, a low rumbly version of his voice.

you stepped closer, standing over him. hands on your hips as you looked down at him. his eyes were hardly open but you didn’t miss how they trailed down your figure.

“making sure you don’t die — get up.” the words were sharp in attempt to make him seriously listen.

he giggled and sighed, pushing up to rest on his elbows. the movement had his head spinning but he didn’t give a shit. just needed a better look at his pretty best friend.

“oh, y’know it turns me on when y’talk to me like that…”

you poked his side with your foot a bit harshly. patience wearing thin, you glared down at him.

“you’re such a pain in my ass—“

“mmm, love your ass,” he hummed but then groaned when you kicked him again, harder.

“rafe, i am so serious right now—“

with a childish huff of annoyance, he lifted himself off the ground but then immediately flopped face first on his bed. small victories, small victories.

you were happy to see dumb and dumber had enough brains to leave a water bottle with him. you grabbed it off the nightstand and perched at the edge of the bed next to the drunken 6’2 baby. a delicate hand rubbed his back; despite being annoyed at him for getting this drunk, you were still worried.

“hey, babe, c’mon — turn over. you need to drink some water…”

rafe unceremoniously flipped over, long legs dangling off the side of the bed. he sat up slowly and groaned at each movement. the room was nonstop spinning, so he decided to focus on one thing: your face. a smile worked its way onto his lips before he could stop himself.

you looked so beautiful, all worried and doting on him. blue eyes stared at your features (like he didn’t already have them committed to memory). the tent in his pant caught your eye and he watched as your eyes rolled. despite the memories of nights spent tangled up with him, you couldn’t believe the audacity he had.

“no way you’re seriously hard right now—“

“mmm, can’t control it around you.”

his smirk was frustrating you, in more ways than one. no, you wouldn’t do anything while he was this drunk. he knows that. yet he still tries to lean up and—

the water bottle presses to his lips, you trying to ease him into drinking and ignoring the bulge you’ve become all too familiar with. his betrayed expression made you snicker. this wasn’t the time to let fantasies run wild. kicking off your slippers and tucking your legs beneath you, you leaned closer.

“c’mon, rafe,” your voice was sweet, so sweet. he couldn’t do anything but take large gulps of water, trying to please you. he was a dumbass but you smiled at his eager approach.

“okay, okay — slow down before you jus’ throw it all up…” the giggle you let out settled right into his bones. rafe found himself wondering why you were just friends. he thought that a lot lately.

“go out with me.”

he definitely thought he sounded more debonair than he did. in reality, half of the words he spoke just flowed into each other. but he kept that low drawl that always sent you reeling. you couldn’t do this, couldn’t approach that territory. not now. you’d be happy if you never did.

“rafe—“ you tensed up.

“no, seriously. you’re— you’re gorgeous and y’put up with me. i mean, c’mon—“

the deep sting to your heart wasn’t something new. but it felt stronger this time, more painful. with a sigh, you set the water back down on his nightstand, brushing his hair back as he continues to rant.

“i think we get along great. y’know y’ten times better than— than any other chick i’ve been with— shit, any chick on the island—“

a bittersweet smile graced your lips. rafe noticed they were devoid of any pink or gloss. you really got out of bed just to come and take care of him? that’s gotta mean something.

“c’mon, doll face… gimme a reason y’shouldn’t.”

his words trailed off into contented hums when you started to scratch his scalp. boys are so easy. but boys aren’t rafe.

“i’m a bitch.” the resignation in your voice was telling. being a bitch, being called one wasn’t something new to you. these days you accepted the word with pride, reclaiming it in a sense. but you knew rafe, kook boys, and hell even pogue boys didn’t want a bitch. you were too much for most people.

the scoff he let out made you smile, cheeks dimpling and fingers twisting his hair. he shook his head with a frown and rested a large hand on your waist.

“nooo, y’not.” the words punctuated with a squeeze.

“i am—“

rafe reached up and cupped the back of your neck, silencing any chance to speak or protest. you know what that touch meant: ‘i’m talking now’.

“you’re beautiful. and— and smart and good.” his whispered words are drunken and mumbled. but you felt like your heart might explode, a heat pushing through your veins and replacing the blood with rafe.

rafe, rafe, rafe.

“best girl i know... yeah?” he urges, squeezing the back of your neck. your heart thumps faster at the pressure. you nod, because what else can you do when he speaks to you like that?

with a satisfied hum, he smiles. the action completely softens his face and it blows you away every time. you’re pressed closer, leaning over him, and he’s staring at you like he can’t believe you’re real.

“that’s my girl…”

you can’t tell who leans in first, but soon you’re locking lips with your best friend. something that shouldn’t be familiar and exhilarating as it is, but continues to be every single time. the kiss that you share is more gentle than you two have ever been with each other. in your complicated relationship, it was always hot and rough.

but this… this was slow and comforting. he tasted like whiskey and you let your lips part just slightly, a tentative lick of his tongue into the warmth of your mouth made you feel weak.

rafe was alight with want. he’d always wanted you. wanted to be in your presence. wanted to hear your voice. wanted to have you beneath him. wanted to be beneath you. he wanted it all. maybe it was the whiskey talking, but nothing had ever felt more right than when your hand cupped his cheek and your lips where on his.

“you should sleep…” your voice was hardly recognizable, soft and hesitant against his lips. he didn’t have to to ask, you knew he wanted you to stay. and you know you couldn’t have left if you wanted to.

so, you let him wrap his arms around you and nestled into his neck. and when he starts to snore like he always denies he does, you felt like things might be okay. despite it all, he was gonna be your rafe.

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

I was so angry earlier can we go back to that

[mangostarjam]

terms of address — kaiju no. 8, fluff, "sweetheart" as a pet name, hoshina soshiro x female reader, 1.6k words — part two, part three

"What's wrong, my dear? You look kinda… stressed."

"Stressed? Stressed?" you repeat, turning your disbelieving gaze upon the Third Division's Vice Captain. Hoshina Soshiro is frowning slightly, a faint downward tick to his mouth that others probably wouldn't even notice, but you — you've been his operations manager for a few years now, and you've had plenty of time to learn his quirks.

"Yeesh, I was just askin'," Soshiro says, "what're you doin' up, anyway? Ain't it past your bedtime?"

"I could say the same to you," you point out. You watch as he slides his practice blades home, pretending not to notice the flex of his arms in his stupidly fitted training uniform. Sometimes you wonder if he got his clothes a size smaller with the way they seem molded to every ridge and curve of his muscles, and then you mentally smack yourself because you should not be paying attention to him like that. He's your Vice Captain and that's it. That has to be it.

"You just got discharged from the hospital. Rest is important!"

"I'm alright," Soshiro waves you off, but takes the towel you wordlessly hold out for him to wipe at the sweat dripping down his face. The training room is quiet except for the buzz of fluorescents above you and the heavy pounding of your heart in your chest. Your Vice Captain seems content to stand close as he wipes himself down, emanating heat as you try to shrink into your borrowed Defense Force jacket.

This was a mistake. You should've just walked past the door and ignored the light on underneath — but the distinct sound of blades slicing through air at high speeds made your ears perk up, and before you could tell yourself not to do something stupid — well, you're here now.

"I couldn't sleep."

Soshiro raises an eyebrow at your confession and hangs the towel around his neck. He's still standing way too close, but it's… comforting. Confusing. Another little piece of the mystery that is Hoshina Soshiro, who always has a grin on his face except for when he's taking down kaiju. Your Vice Captain, who's started standing closer to you than normal, and asking you about the books stacked in your dormitory, and brushing his hand along the back of your chair as you sit in it.

"Because of the stress?"

"Yeah," you frown, tilting your head up to look him in the eye. Sweat has dampened his purple hair into a darker shade, a deep pretty color that nearly seems black except for where the light glints off the strands. Man, you really must have it bad if you're starting to find his sweaty hair attractive. "So you should be good and quit stressing me out."

Soshiro grins abruptly, light and lopsided as he tilts his own head to look at you appraisingly. "You were stressin' about me?"

"Obviously," you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest and taking a subtle step back. He mirrors your step seemingly subconsciously, ducking his head to hide the pleased curl of his mouth before he arranges his features into something more familiar to you when he meets your eye again. "You're my Vice Captain, after all. And you know I hate when you land in the hospital. I hate… seeing you get hurt."

Too much — too close to a confession. But the night air is still and your little bubble feels warm and comfortable and secret.

"That's why I've gotta get stronger, my dear," Soshiro says pleasantly. You take another step backwards and your heel hits the wall a second before your back meets the cold metal. Soshiro leans forward, bracing a strong arm against the wall by your head. "Next time I'll wipe the damn floor with that kaiju."

"Of course you will," you flush in spite of yourself. He's standing really close, practically pinning you to the wall, and this is so not normal Vice-Captain-and-Operations-Manager behavior that your lightning fast brain feels like it's short circuiting.

He smells good. Like… cypress. Something woodsy and fresh. You take a deep breath.

The column of his throat works and you watch, mesmerized by the strong cut of his jaw and totally distracted.

"So didja want some help?"

"H-help? With what?" You risk a glance back up just in time to see his gaze drag down to your lips.

No. There's no way —

"I could tell ya bedtime stories."

The ends of his towel swing forward and rest against the zipper of your borrowed jacket and the swell of your chest. You can feel his breaths against your face, but he makes no move to get any closer. "I doubt you know any good ones."

Soshiro laughs. His forehead presses against your own for a moment as he chuckles, and when he pulls back a little the grin on his face makes you beam up at him, delight swooping through your stomach at making him laugh.

"I could tell you training stories, then," he suggests. "Like the time Okonogi thought —"

"Nothing with Okonogi," you interrupt, flushing again when he pauses to regard you. "I just — she —"

"What's the matter? I thought you two got along…?"

This is so embarrassing. You should've just kept your mouth shut, but now Soshiro is looking at you intently and you don't want to give him the wrong idea about your relationship with your superior but if you admit the truth… it's embarrassing.

"You…"

"Me?" Soshiro moves to pull away and you reach up to grip the end of his towel before he can get too far, dropping it immediately when he freezes in place. Fuck, you shouldn't have done that.

"Tell me," he says quietly. "What is it, my dear?"

Your heart clenches in your chest. "You call her that, too. Do you use that for all the female operations managers?"

His eyebrows draw together for a second in apparent confusion before his entire expression brightens and he laughs. "Just you two," he admits, reaching up with his free hand to grip the loose ends of your hair lightly. "Okonogi and I have worked together for a while. I respect her. And you. But… I can call you somethin' else, if you'd like. If I'm allowed."

Your face feels like it's on fire. You curl your fingers around the ends of your too-long sleeves. "You… you're the only one who's allowed. You know that."

Soshiro says your name. Watches your reaction with a focus usually reserved for fighting kaiju. Twirls the strands of your hair gently around his fingers. "Too soon? Let's get you to bed, then. It's gettin' late."

"B-bed? Hoshina-san, Vice Captain sir, that's not — we can't —"

"Aw, don't worry, ya dope. I'm just escortin' you. These halls ain't safe for a cutie like you this late at night," Soshiro says easily, finally moving away and taking all of his warmth with him. You squeak in surprise at his words and he tosses you a grin over his shoulder.

"Sir —"

"Play fair, sweetheart," Soshiro says. Cutie?? Sweetheart?? Those are new ones. You become suddenly aware of how your heart is beating rabbit-fast.

He grabs one of your hands and tugs you forward, his smile growing lopsided when you squeak again and stumble after him. "What're you gonna call me from now on, huh? Everyone calls me Vice Captain or sir. You'd better come up with somethin' special."

Your Vice Captain leads you out of the training room before your brain can catch up, his hand firm around yours. Rough callouses scratch at your skin, but you squeeze his hand the instant he starts to loosen his grip. Soshiro glances back at you with a smile that makes your heart do something concerning in your chest.

"Hoshina…kun," you test the honorific in your mouth, glancing up in time to catch the way his ears redden beneath his hair. "Can I call you Hoshina-kun?"

Soshiro clears his throat and keeps walking. "'Course, sweetheart. But maybe just when we're alone."

"Huh?"

"Can't have ya makin' me shy in front of the officers," Soshiro says, facing resolutely forward. "I'd lose all my authority."

Oh. Oh…?

"Okay… Hoshina-kun."

Soshiro makes a funny little coughing noise and stops abruptly, turning to rest his free hand on your head, forcing your gaze downward. "Alrighty, then, cutie, time to sleep! I'll see ya tomorrow mornin', hm?"

You nod, eyes closed, trying your best to memorize the weight of his palm. Soshiro drags his hand downward, cupping your face for a moment and sweeping his thumb along your cheekbone before dropping it entirely to tug at the collar of your jacket.

"Okie dokie, now get inside," Soshiro says lightly. You risk a glance up and valiantly try to suppress a shiver down your spine at the expression on his face. "It ain't fair to look so good wearin' my jacket, y'know."

"I — it was on the back of my chair and I was… cold…"

Soshiro grins. "I figured you were. That's why I left it for ya."

"Thanks, Vice Cap— Hoshina-kun," you murmur, reaching for the door to your dormitory. Warmth is settling deep in your chest. You really shouldn't be doing this — letting him hold your hand, shifting your relationship in another direction, following the beats of your heart as his smile softens and you take a tiny step closer to him. This is inappropriate and dangerous, but… it's Soshiro.

"You're going to sleep now too, right?" you ask. The hallway lights flicker and buzz as he leans forward, tugging you close by the collar of your (his) jacket until he can press his forehead against yours. Your eyelashes flutter shut as his breaths puff across your lips, but he simply takes a deep breath before pulling away. His hand is warm around yours.

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

[urhoneycombwitch]

eddie who's cynical and grumpy only because he hasn't had proper aftercare. most people just roll over or leave when they're done and those that do stay to cuddle, it's Eddie holding them and never the other way around. He doesn't want to admit that it makes him feel dissatisfied afterwards, like the sex wasn't even worth it, because he got laid, that's the point, why complain? But there's just something... missing (and I figure aftercare wasn't as talked about in the 80s so he isn't really too sure what that something is)

Until a night with reader where they have absolutely mind-blowing sex, parting with heavy breaths and as Eddie's heart rate starts to slow back down to normal again, he's waiting for reader to grab their clothes, roll over on their side, something that breaks the connection and makes his heart drop. But they don't, reaching out a weak hand (because they're sluggish waiting for their soul to return to their body) to rub his arm. A gentle back and forth, which feels nice, but Eddie's suspicious. What is this, why are they doing it, and why does it feel good?

And then, "Can I play with your hair?" (from the muse prompt lol) and he's agreeing with a shrug and when reader starts to card their fingers through his curls and massage his scalp, Eddie melts. It's like a whole brain recalibration. His icy heart getting thawed out just because someone made sure to take care of him too. And if reader wakes up earlier in the morning just to ask how he likes his eggs? Eddie's already decided that he's gotta lock them down.

+18 mdni

cw: p in v sex, cockwarming

It’s you tipping over the edge into orgasm, choking his cock with your velvet walls, soft whine spilling from the back of your throat, that takes Eddie with you.

As he comes, he burrows his face into your neck. Your hands reach for his skull to draw him closer, and he unintentionally bites down a bit too hard on the soft skin of your neck.

You let out a gasp, fingers seizing in his hair, and he’s quick to pull his mouth up, kissing and soothing over the spot he’s left with his teeth.

“Shit, sorry, sweetheart,” he pants, the affection slipping out despite himself.

“It’s’okay,” you mumble out in one word, limbs going to putty, hands extricating themselves from his hair.

Eddie rises to his elbows and moves to gingerly pull out but you stop him, fingers flying up to dig into the meat of his biceps.

“Wait, can you- will you just stay in? For a little bit?”

You’re not kidding, he can tell- you’ve got a wounded puppy look that he’s dying to change. Eddie sinks slowly back into you, rotates his hips a bit so you take less of his weight, and settles his head on your collarbone.

A big, dreamy sigh, from you- like you’re perfectly content because of how close Eddie is.

His eyes flutter shut when you begin tracing light lines with the pads of your fingers over his bare back.

“What’cha doin’?” Eddie murmurs into the skin of your sternum.

Up his spine, circling under the curtain of hair against his neck, down the spine again; looping and rhythmic. Your hands don’t slow as you whisper “Lovin’ on you, weirdo. Hush.”

You can feel the well of his dimples against your skin as he smiles.

“Can I play with your hair?” you ask quietly, and before he’s even finished nodding you’ve got both hands winding into his dark locks.

You start gentle, thumbs at his temples, light touches against his scalp, but when your hands find the roots you give a short but hard tug.

The little flash of pain goes straight to his dick, and he bucks into you with a low groan, half filled-out already.

“You gonna give me another pretty mark to look at?” you purr.

Eddie lifts his head from your chest and grazes his teeth into the opposing side of your neck just below your ear, in tandem with a sharp snap of his hips.

He catches your clit beneath his thumb and grins wicked when you moan, pulling up again to look down at you as he says, “Gimme another one of your pretty orgasms and we’ve got a deal.”

[quiet-onset]

seeking refuge

pairing: carmen berzatto x reader

wc: 1.5k

summary: carmy is having a day, and you want him to get lost in you.

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact!!!, unprotected sex, overstimulation (character and reader)

a/n: is this realistic? probably not. but that's why it's fanfiction! i truly do not remember writing most of this, but i was looking through my wips to find something work on and came across this already finished fic from last year lol. enjoy!

He had the look in his eye. That look had him curling in on himself, shoulders slumped as his mind ran wild. Every once in a while, he’d get lost in his own thoughts, a complete mashup of all the anxiety-inducing shit he’d ever encountered. Money, renovations, Michael, don’t miss NA meeting, walk-in door handle, Ma, menu, run menu ideas by Sydney, Sugar, and oh shit, Sugar’s baby, right, I’m an uncle—

“Carm?”

Like some sort of psuedo-siren, your voice called him back to stable ground, away from troubled waters. Still, he was merely wading when his eyes focused on you. His lips pulled up in an anxious smile, the best he could give you at the moment. “Hey, sorry, hey. I’m here.” He said, nodding his head. Then, his brow furrowed, and he shook away the confusion. “Wait, what are you doin’ here?”

“Richie called, said you might need the rest of the day off.”

Carm rolled his eyes and stood from the office chair, stepping past you to yell at Richie from the doorway. “Cousin!”

“Uh-uh, you are not fuckin’ up my flow today, cousin. I’m in the zone. Take that anxiety bullshit elsewhere, heard?” Richie dismissed him before he could make his defense.

“Hey, fuck you.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you, too. See ya tomorrow.” Richie replied. “I need hands, chefs!”

You chuckled behind Carm, wrapping your arms around his waist. You pressed your cheek against his back and immediately felt some of the tension there roll away. “That training did a number on him.” You commented.

“Too smart for his own good now.” Carmen added.

You leaned up to press a soft kiss against his ear. “Come home, bear.”

It was only a matter of time after that. He’d explained the issue on the way home, or at least tried to. “I dunno, there’s just too many thoughts and not enough time or space. Feel like my brain’s gonna fuckin’ explode, just get lost in my goddamn mind.”

He almost pulled over and dragged you into the backseat at your reply. “Get lost in me instead.”

And he did. He managed to keep himself contained long enough to get home, but once there, he wasted no time. A mere fifteen minutes later, and he had you on your back, legs spread about his waist as his thick, hard cock stretched you open. You held on for dear life as your pussy clenched around him, wet and sticky with your arousal.

“Fuck, you feel good, baby. ‘S exactly what I needed.” He panted. “So fuckin’ wet.”

You could barely form the words to respond, hips canting up with each thrust, chasing the pleasure. Not that it mattered to Carmen, he was content with the sweet moans and whimpers that fell without pause from your lips. He adored the sounds you made and strove to pull them out of you as he pounded you into the mattress. He stopped for a brief moment when he felt your walls tighten, groaning deep in his chest. One hand gripped at the back of your thigh and pushed, spreading you wider. The other slid forward until his elbow was pressed against the mattress next to your head, and he buried his face in your neck.

“Gonna make me come ‘f you keep squeezin’ like that, baby.” His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, his breath hot and wet against your skin.

“Can’t he-help it.” You whined prettily. “Feels good. Please don’t stop, gonna come.”

“Yeah? Gonna come on this dick?” His hand reached down to toy with your clit, eyes rolling to the back of his head when you cried out his name.

All you could do is nod, your moans getting louder as your orgasm approached. And then, pleasure so good, tears pricked at your eyes. Your back arched, your breasts pressed into his chest, you moaned his name. That white-hot bliss pulsed in every part of you, almost like it was being torn from you. Your cunt clamped around him, and you’re sure if you looked down, a ring of your arousal would coat the base of his cock.

Like all he needed was your pleasure, his finish hit him like a truck seconds later. An unending string of fuck, fuck, fuck as he pumped his come into you, the white, warm streams of him coating your walls. His balls pulsed hard as he gave you long, slow strokes, the head of his cock nearly kissing your cervix with one particularly deep thrust.

And even though his pace had slowed, his hips didn’t stop. The overstimulation was starting to set in, your stomach flipping deliciously at the continuous pleasure. Still, he was strangely quiet, so you wanted to make sure he was okay.

“C-Carmy,” You whimpered out. “You still with me, bear?”

You expected a pause, a wait, but the answer was immediate. “‘F course I am. Nowhere else I’d rather be. Goddamnit.”

“Carmen?”

“Gotta have you again.”

You didn’t have time to process his words before he was pulling out of you and flipping you over. He hastily grabbed a pillow and lifted your hips to slide it under. Even in the orgasmic-haze that fogged his brain, he wanted to make sure you were comfortable. Still-hard cock in hand, he stroked himself firmly as he kneeled behind you. His free hand gripped at the fullness of your ass, pulling lightly until he could see the mess he’d made of your pussy, a mixture of yours and his come dripping out of you. It might've drenched the pillowcase, but the thought hadn’t even passed Carmen’s mind. He just leaned over you until his nose was buried in your hair, pressing himself into your sweet cunt once more. You let out a loud moan of his name, your tight walls still fluttering post-orgasm.

“Didn’t want your legs to get sore.” He mumbled as he started fucking you again, slow and deep. “Shit, I need to keep goin'. Need to fill you up again.”

“‘S too good, oh my god.” You cried out. At this angle, the tip of his cock brushed against your g-spot with every thrust.

“Gonna let me keep goin’, right? Let me keep fuckin’ my cock into you, fillin’ your sweet little cunt with my come? Gonna let me get lost in you, pretty girl?”

On one hand, you weren’t sure where this Carmen came from. It wasn’t like he was silent during sex, but he never talked this much. Never this filthy. It was like his pleasure controlled him, the overstimulation working double-time to control his body and mind at once. With every word, his pace got faster, his thrusts deeper, inhibiting your ability to speak. 

It wasn’t made better when Carmen wrapped his arm around your neck, his bicep pressing lightly against your throat. A ragged gasp passed through your lips as he gave an experimental squeeze, timed perfectly with a deep thrust of his cock. He pressed his cheek against yours as you nodded eagerly, hoping the response would suffice.

“That’s it, baby, that’s fuckin’ it. So good to me all the goddamn time.” He groaned, hips bouncing off your ass with every thrust. “Pullin’ me out my head, makin’ me feel good. Perfect girl for me. Perfect girl with a perfect fuckin’ cunt, shit.”

He kept going and going and going, only relishing in a short rest each time. A setting sun and four orgasms later — five, for him — he was still burying his overstimulated cock in your overstimulated pussy. You were on your side now, facing him with your leg thrown over his hip. Each slow thrust of his dick and every pulse of your puffy cunt was laced with pain, but the pleasure was still there, too, making it hard to think. But for Carm, his mind was clear, the only thing left a vision of your sweaty face contorted with mind-numbing pleasure-pain.

One hand pulled you closer by your ass, the other brushing your hair off your sweaty forehead. “So pretty like this, baby. Could do this all fuckin’ day.”

“Carm, ‘s too much.” You gasped, eyes wide as you looked up at him. “Feels too good.”

He wiped a tear from your cheek, feeling his balls throb hard, almost painfully, as he plunged his cock deeper into you. “I know, I know. Just need another one, need to keep going till I’m fuckin’ empty. You can do that, right? You can take it.”

And sure, the overstimulation may have been clouding your judgment. But one look at his blue eyes, glazed over and needy, and you wanted to keep going. You wanted to lay there and let him take what he needed until he was spent, till all the anxious thoughts he ever had faded from memory. Your pussy tightened at the thought as you wondered how long it would take before he fucked his mind completely empty.

And just like that, he was coming again. Your sticky walls coaxed it out of him, pulsing around him until his hips stuttered. With the number of loads he’d already pumped into you, you couldn’t even feel the new warmth of his come. You only knew it was there when his cock pushed back inside, and come dribbled out of you and down your thigh.

And not a moment later, you were on your back again, and he was fucking you headfirst into your sixth orgasm. You and Carmen had a long night ahead of you. 

[bbyobbyo]

Ever since you stopped using his Spotify account in the mornings, you find other ways to mess with your boyfriend.

A short continuation of this fic, but can be read as a standalone.

content: fluff, established relationship, idol!Jihoon, banter, reader and jihoon just have a permanent jam session going on, they’re in love i swear

wc: 857

note: ahhh they’re back!! thank you to everyone who read the first part and gave it love😊 this has been rotting my brain for a while and i originally was playing with this concept for the original but couldn’t pull it together but we’re here now! shoutout to @highvern because it was partly inspired by her fic “Between the Titles” which is such a great read that i highly recommend along with literally everything else she writes!! all the songs featured here are real and from an era of kpop I hold near and dear to my heart so if you recognize any of them, you’re a real one 🥰

Jihoon is not a morning person, never has been. As he sits in the dressing room of the filming studio, he can feel his eyelids getting increasingly heavy. Some of his members are actively sleeping, in fact, and Jihoon knows he’ll be joining them soon if Wonwoo takes any longer in that makeup chair.

Blasting in his ears is his usual Bruno Mars playlist, a sad attempt to try to recover his energy before he knocks out next to Mingyu sleeping on a mat on the floor, but to no avail because his mind slowly slips away until a piercing airhorn noise jolts him awake.

SEVENTEEN TEEN TEEN NEOWANA SAI E

Uhh. This was definitely not his Daily Bruno Mars Mix.

He immediately searches his screen to find out what happened when he finds his answer in the form of a text from you.

[8:18 am] good morning sleepyhead :)

[8:18 am] hope I didnt scare you too bad :)

He scrunches his face up in disbelief, half amused that you managed to catch him off guard with possibly the most annoying wake up song on Seventeen’s discography, and half annoyed at the realization that he must’ve forgotten to cancel your Spotify Jam session from yesterday.

He decides to leave your text on read. After all, he has plenty of time to be petty today. Furiously searching through his library, he queues up a song and before Mingyu can finish singing the first chorus, he smashes the next track button in smug anticipation.

Now Playing: Fxxk U • Gain, Bumkey

And he doesn’t have to wait long before he gets your reply.

[8:20 am] oh i see how it is

Now Playing: This is War • MBLAQ

If Jihoon wasn’t awake before, he definitely is now. Even as he gets called in to do his makeup next, he thinks carefully about his next move.

Now Playing: LOSER • BIGBANG

…

Now Playing: WHO, YOU? • G-DRAGON

An audible scoffs escapes from his lips as he involuntarily tilts his head back in amusement, much to the dismay of his makeup artist who had just started on his foundation. He mutters a shy sorry before resuming his search for a reply. Maybe he needs to take a different approach to this if he hopes to continue having Jam sessions with you in the future.

Now Playing: Whatcha Doin’ Today • 4Minute

As Jihoon eventually discovers, his hopes to change the topic of conversation were in vain as two songs were suddenly queued one after another.

Now Playing: Why Don’t You Know • CHUNG HA, Nucksal

Next in Queue: Mind Your Own Business • Ailee

Jihoon thinks he’s met his match, coming to the realization that he could never out sass the love of his life. But he wasn’t willing to back down so easily either.

Now Playing: I’m so sick • Apink

Next in Queue: Because of you • After School

Your next move nearly sends him to tears.

Now Playing: Excuse Me • AOA

Next in Queue: You Don’t Love Me • Spica

Next in Queue: I ain’t going home tonight • Navi, Geeks

Next in Queue: I Don’t Need a Man • miss A

As he chuckles to himself for what seems like the hundredth time this morning, this newfound form of entertainment suddenly becomes incredibly precious. Although you see each other nearly every day, Jihoon realizes just how much he misses you, talking to you about everything and nothing at all, bantering like you’ve known each other for your entire lives.

Now Playing: Am I too easy? • U-KISS

...

Now Playing: Mystery • Beast

Even though he couldn’t be with you physically, he knew you were enjoying yourself just as much as him on the other side. He could almost picture your smile of satisfaction as you found your next song, knowing that he would appreciate your humor. And appreciate he did, happily tapping away at his screen until his makeup artist puts on his finishing touches and tells him to call the next member.

Now Playing: Gotta Go • CHUNG HA

Next in Queue: I’m Busy • 2NE1

Next in Queue: Plz Don’t Be Sad • HIGHLIGHT

…

Now Playing: Okay Dokey • MINO, ZICO

Little does he know that his members are in the corner snickering at the sight, knowing that only one thing could have their producer smiling like an idiot at his phone the whole morning.

Soon enough, Jihoon and his members get swept up into their schedule involving the filming of various contents for their Youtube Channel, a task that usually takes the entire day if a game is involved. Thankfully, the game allowed for members to go home early, a rare treat considering how competitive his members can get when it comes to shooting content.

After his usual rounds of “good work everyone” to the company staff and his members, he gets ready to see the person who been on his mind (and in his ears) since the morning. Taking out his phone, he queues one last song while exiting the building.

Now Playing: Run to you • SEVENTEEN

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING WATCHFUL !!! DANIEL R. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: he finally understood why she loved her shithole of a flat so much.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), use of explicit language, pwp, mirror sex, mentions of exhibitionism/voyeurism (suggestions of the grid watching), size kink, praise kink, fingering, squirting, overstimulation, my man danny ric is filthy asf

note: i blacked out while writing this so whatever i wrote in here i’ve no control over. enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

the ceiling mirrors were installed in her room out of pure joy. she enjoyed creative photography and had often taken photos of herself — the creativity coming straight from the mirrors as she had no one to have her photos taken of but herself. 

daniel ricciardo loved it. he loved her independence and cozy little flat — though he kept convincing her to move into a bigger place. she deserved so much more than this shitbox, but she insisted that she needed to earn more money before buying a better place. her independence was what drove him insane. 

all he wanted was to treat her like a queen— one that she deserved to see herself as. 

and that was how she ended up leaning against him, her legs spread wide open and her head leaning back against his chest. his tattooed arm kept her lightly strained while his hand held her chin up to face their reflections, gripping it gently whenever her eyes would shut close thanks to the pleasure brought by the fingers that slowly fucked her. 

she heaved a sigh, feeling too overstimulated from previous orgasms he’d given her who knows when. her body limped against him while her hand tried grabbing onto his, only for him to tut quietly and smack her cunt slightly. 

“don’t you fucking dare touch,” he warned her quietly. 

“‘s too much, danny,” she cried quietly, her eyes closing tightly as she squirmed. yet her walls clenched around his fingers when they slid back in. her moan protested against the words she just uttered. 

“but y’look so fuckin’ beautiful like this, doll,” he teased her, his mouth nibbling on her ear as he tapped her chin. watching her open her eyes, he then praised her, “see? a fuckin’ beaut is what you are. can’t believe i’m allowing you to live in a shithole like this.” 

“you deserve so much better than this, princess,” daniel continued to speak, grinning breathlessly when she squealed at the curling of his fingers. 

the sounds of squelching of her cunt filled the small space as she watched his fingers disappear inside her, partially watching in disbelief at how much he’s filling her. those were just his fingers. she couldn’t imagine how his cock looked when he’s fucking her with it. it was too big.

“‘s it because of these mirrors, doll?” he asked although she couldn’t answer anymore. her brain was turning hazy from the overstimulation, sending her to a certain state of pleasure as he continued to taunt her, “you like watching yourself touch this pretty cunt of yours, huh, baby? ‘s that why you wouldn’t move?” 

not receiving an answer from her, his dark eyes watched her reflection squirm away from his touch.

he continued to smile widely, his fingers now curling and hitting the spot as he increased his pace and began fucking her rigorously. “if you want to see yourself look all pretty getting fucked like this you could have just asked me, baby.” 

“you know that i can’t refuse my princess,” he hummed, vibrations on her back making her cry out and babble inaudibly. 

“danny, mmmm~ ‘s too much,” she didn’t even notice that tears were beginning to form, her sight turning blurry while she watched his fingers fill her hole like they were meant to be there. “too- too much, i- hah~ ngh~ fuck danny!” 

“yes, i know princess,” he cooed in her ear quietly, his gentle voice contrasting with the way he fucked her as he murmured, “you’ve more in you, baby, let it go. doin’ so good f’me. let go~” 

daniel’s eyes gleamed in excitement watching her cunt drench his fingers with pleasure. she soaked his fingers, and her sheets were covered with her pleasure as she came for the third time tonight— all from his fingers. 

her body that once convulsed reacted when his mouth slipped in his tongue inside hers, already too fucked out and sensitive as she moaned quietly. “so fuckin’ good f’me, princess.” 

she hadn’t expected him to continue on with the night as she let out a squeal, her legs being hoisted up by him as he leaned back and slid his cock inside her without a problem. 

“i- danny, want more-“ she babbled, her head tipping over to watch the ceiling mirrors as she witnessed her cunt sinking into his thick cock. she moaned at the sight, already clenching around him. she really loved the sight of him bulging in her stomach— that and the filthy words that slip out of his mouth as his hips moved up and down to fuck her.

“god! you’re so fuckin’ hot,” he growled from under her, meeting her eyes over the ceiling mirrors while he chased his climax and hers. “y’like watching huh?” 

“yes!” she cried out, his cock hitting the spot as she spoke. “love your cock, love you s’much!” 

“such a pretty girl,” daniel said, “i fuckin love watchin’ you writhing, baby— wish everyone in the fuckin’ grid can see you— d’ya know how much they wanna fuck you?” 

feeling her clench at the comment, danny chuckled and thrusted up at her, “oh- ya like that, hm? you wan’ them to see me fuck you?” 

she only uttered a moan, sinking down to meet his thrust halfway through. 

“you like that huh?” he taunted her, “maybe next time we should make them watch and have them realize that nobody can make you feel like this but me.” 

“they won’t be happy that it’s not them fuckin’ you, baby. i’m sure we can both agree that no one can fuck you like this but me— and i’ll make sure they know that.”

a queen was what she was. if daniel could only, he’d show everyone in the grid that she deserved to be treated like one— and he’d show them all how to treat her like one.

but for now, he needed to fuck her like a queen then install a ceiling mirror in his place in monaco if they both liked to watch him fuck her like this.

[eddiethebrave]

reinforcements

eddie pressing his forehead against steve's to check if he has a fever

prompt from @snowdepths

744 words

eddie’s smiling when steve opens the door, which doesn’t bode well for him.

steve blinks groggily as he takes in the metalhead, offering a tentative smile in return. “hey, eds.” he opens the door and gestures for eddie to come in.

eddie tries to kick his shoes off, without hands seeing as they’re full - and he’s successful. he mutters a small yay to himself in celebration of not falling over onto his loot.

steve closes and locks the door behind him and eddie turns to him again with a soft look “sweetheart, you don’t look so good,” he coos.

steve huffs. “gee, thanks.”

eddie rolls his eyes even as his lips lift into a smile. “that’s not what i meant and you know it, pretty boy”

steve’s grateful for the perpetual flush to his skin today so eddie doesn’t see the way his face flames from the pet names.

before steve sees it coming, eddie’s leaning forward. steve doesn’t pull away - just waits for whatever it is eddie is up to. you never know with this one.

the boy presses his forehead against steve’s and peers at him with his huge eyes. steve’s not sure if the way his stomach is flipping is in because of all that is eddie, or his fever.

“what’re you doing?” steve whispers.

eddie’s brow furrows. “checking your temperature. what’s it look like i’m doin’?”

steve can’t look away no matter how much eddie being this close and gazing into his eyes the way he is makes him wanna squirm.

“you’re gonna get sick.”

eddie scoffs and finally pulls away. “don’t care, stevie. c’mon.” eddie heads towards the kitchen, knowing steve will follow (and he does).

it’s only when eddie sets the paper bags on the island that steve’s sick slow brain catches up.

he crosses his arms. “eddie, no.”

even though his back is to him, steve can practically see the other man’s smirk. “eddie, yes.”

steve rolls his eyes and winces at the dull ache the action brings. “how did you even know?”

eddie snorts as he continues unloading the bags. “how do you think?”

steve sighs. “robin.”

eddie chuckles lightly. “robin,” he confirms.

steve had called out of work that morning, which also means that he had to call robin and let her know that he couldn’t pick her up, apologizing profusely until she told him to shut it, dingus. she hadn’t asked him if he needed anything, knowing that the answer would be no, thank you no matter what. seems like she called in reinforcements in the form of one of the only people steve couldn’t say no to.

once everything is laid out on the counter, eddie turns back around to face steve. with his now free hands, he reaches forward and smoothes steve’s hair back out of his face the way he would style it himself if only he had the energy. once he’s satisfied, he laces his fingers through the hairs at the back of steve’s neck and just keeps them there.

steve leans into the touch and eddie bites his lip to hide his pleased smile.

“why don’t you go lay down and i’ll bring this to you when it’s finished, hmm?” he asks softly, nodding his head towards the ingredients he’d brought.

steve will never admit it, but being sick only amplifies his clinginess.

he pouts. “i wanna stay in here.”

eddie trails his hands to steve’s cheeks and strokes his thumbs across the flushed skin.

“alright, baby,” eddie agrees easily. “but you’re not sitting in these hard ass chairs, i’ll be right back.”

it’s a bit of a struggle, but eddie manages to bring in the fancy ass armchair from the goddamn foyer all by himself.

once he gets steve situated in his seat - or, as eddie had presented it to the man, a throne for his majesty - eddie gets to work making the soup.

steve knows his face is far too fond as he watches eddie cook, but he can’t help it.

steve can’t remember the last time someone had cooked for him. he can’t remember the last time someone took care of him, especially when he wasn’t feeling all too well. and he knows he’s partially at fault for the latter - seeing as he never lets anyone know he’s sick unless necessary (like with robin today) - but, still.

steve knows that the fever isn’t the cause of how gooey he feels inside.

eddie takes care of him.

[breaddippedinorangejuice]

no thoughts except Gojo Satoru experiencing his first true love.

contains: fluff and hurt/comfort. also gojo satoru fucking cryin'

Gojo is obviously the guy who has a facade of cockiness, some one who's overtly arrogant to the point he's deemed narcissistic, which he is.

That's why when he felt attracted to you, he used all his sub surface charms to woo you, and mostly, bring you to his bed (He thinks he could only be loved for his body because his soul is way too riven with pain. ) To his dismay, it wasn't successful. He was being rejected over and over again, a hearty laugh vibrates in your lungs each and every time.

So when he got fed up, he cried in front of you. Calling you cruel and heartless.

"You're s-so fuckin... hic.. mean" his eyes glossy, lips curling upwards as it trebles against his will.

And you looked at him confused. In your mind, you were grabbing pieces of memories you two had to try and grasp what's happening.

Then it clicked.

"Toru... did you seriously like me?" and the man glared at you

"Of course, goddammit!.. The hell you think I was doin' ..." he pouts

"... to pass time?"

"..."

After that messy situation, he told you he did all of that because that's the only way he thinks it'll work so you told him he's lovable, not because he's the strongest but because he's satoru. Just satoru, no titles or ranks attached. Then he cried again, this time in your arms, heart heavy with all the love he craved since he was young. Feeling warm and fuzzy with all the affection you gave unconditionally.

Finally got this out cuz my brain was rotting FOR DAYS with the idea of satoru experiencing his first love. He would act like a teenager but painfully aware so🥹 God, I love this man sm. That's why I stopped reading since the chapter he got cube'd. Anyways, this is extremely shirt cuz I'm still sick (unfortunately)

[moonlightndaydreams]

Yo, regular customer here, how ya doin 🤜🏼🤛🏼

So what do you ot8 would be like into you know position wise to do the deed🤭

Also could you write something any of the skz doing the deed in bathtub and wall s*x. I noticed a scarcity of them!😩

Anyways hope both sides of your pillow are cold n fluffy

👋🏼👋🏼👋🏼

Skz’s fave sex positions.

Changbin: as much as I love thinking about him taking me from behind (cue poppin' from maniac), I honestly think he loves missionary. He want's your legs wrapped around his waist while he stares into your eyes and fucks into you. Slow, deep, rolls of the hips. That's how he fucks you. He makes little whimpers and grunts, and bites into his juicy lower lip because you feel so good around him. He watches you, taking note of all your micro-expressions, ensuring that you are enjoying every second as much as he is. He is so present when he has sex with you, and if he notices your mind is drifting off, he'll bring you back to the moment. Right now you’re the only thing that matters.

Chan: he loves all positions, but lifting you up against the wall with your legs around him is one of his faves. He’s a strong guy, let’s not forget that. He can either slowly fuck you, pulling out almost entirely before pushing back up into you… or, he can hold you under your ass and bounce you on his cock. In fact, sometimes he just likes standing in the middle of the room and bouncing you on his cock. Like a ragdoll.

Minho: Mating press or from behind in front of the mirror. Either way, he loves to watch his cock disappear and reappear out of your dripping pussy. The mating press position allows him to go deep, but he can also use the backs of your thighs to push himself off you enough to look down where you’re connected. When it’s from behind in front of a mirror he gets so caught up in watching himself, he rather likes the way his body looks when he’s body is rolling into you. His mouth hangs loose seeing how robust your sweet little cunt is when he fucks you for hours at a time. He has so much stamina. You’ll be begging him to stop from overstimulation, but he just has so much more to give. He knows no one can give it you as good as him.

Han Jisung: He loves it when you ride him. He’s the type to just let you do all the work. I mean, why wouldn’t he want to just lay there and have you use him for your own pleasure? It feels incredible for him having you squeeze and bounce on his cock, your breasts in his face. The way you pant and run out of breath gets him so hard. But I also think he’d flip you over at any moment and throw your legs over his shoulders and just rail you. He always cums inside you by the way. Always.

Hyunjin: Wall sex in an art gallery, or utilising a piece of furniture or scuplture. He just wants to drape you over things, or slide you up the wall on his cock, and fuck you slowly. He also loves shower sex. He loves spontaneous, sensual encounters. He loves variety. He closes his eyes tight when you flutter around his cock. Sex is an artistic expression for him.

Felix: Bathtub sex. He’s so thoughtful in creating a lovely setting. Candles. Bubbles. And him. He’ll get you to sit in front of him he washes your body, leaning you back to play with your nipples. Next thing you’re hanging over the side of tub while he’s fucking your brains out. Silly girl thinking it was going to sweet sex.

Seungmin: Sitting on him reverse. Just like Jisung likes to let you do all work, so does Seungmin. But I t’s out of meanness (whereas Ji likes to be lazy). He’ll get you to do all the bouncing while he watches your ass jiggle up and down. He might even squeeze a cheek or slap you a little. You don’t mind since he’s not much of a “body roller” and you can fuck yourself on whatever angle feels best… it always make him blow unexpectedly and he loves it.

Jeongin: likes to take you by surprise, by covering your mouth with his hand and pushing you onto your stomach on the couch or bed. He doesn’t want to hear a peep out of you. He’s sick like that. But it’s always consensual. You have a signal if you’re not in the mood. He’ll peel your pants down and squeeze himself into your wet warmth with your legs as close together as possible. Then he’ll just grind against you with his entire body weight on you.

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @chansbabyg @kangnina @weareapackofstrays @xxkissesforchanniexx @enjaken @queen-in-the-shadows @bethanysnow @newhope8 @chuuchuu1224 @vanillacupcakefrosting @3rachasdomesticbanana @fun-fanfics @palindrome969 @wolfennracha @rhonnie23

[jarofstyles]

Take Me Higher

Happy 4/20 my lovelies. I just whipped this up quickly so I hope you guys enjoy it 🫣

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WC- 2.5k

Warnings- use of marijuana, high users, switch!H, choking, cum play, etc

Picture is not mine, credits to owner

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The smoke had cleared out of the room but it was a bit cold still from the chill of the night. It wasn’t quite warm enough to be spring in her humble opinion, but she’d take what she could get. Plus, Harry had brought her some food stuff for them and she was feeling the effects kicking in as she felt a weight settle on her body. Her eyes were hooded and she was a little giggly as his scent engulfed her, vanilla and tobacco more prominent than the smell she tried to keep from her place.

“Mm… you’re warm.” A cool nose brushed her throat, making her shiver as the man crawled up her body and rested himself on top of her. Harry always got like this when they smoked, but it seemed even more prominent today.

“And you’re a needy little thing.” Fingers carded through his hair, knocking the beanie off his head as he buried his face in her neck. There was no real response except a whine, breath warm on her skin as he tried to warm himself up. The window had to be opened so they’d not get any real complaints from their flat, but luckily they were sure her neighbor wasn’t home today.

Comfortable silence made her melt further into the sofa, the playlist on low as her eyes fluttered shut and she busied herself with playing with his hair. He’d been a good smoking buddy for a while, but she knew why he really came over. It was only a matter of time.

A large hand slipped under her body, wiggling itself under her top to feel the hot expanse of her back. He couldn’t get close enough, needy little thing, and Y/N was fully enjoying being clung to. Physical touch always made the high even better, but that’s just her opinion. Or maybe it was physical touch was better when high? She didn’t know. Her brain didn’t want to analyze that right this second.

“Did you sleep last night? Tired?” Her voice was soft as she didn’t want to disturb the vibe, twirling a curl around her fingertips.

“No.” He shook his head, seeming like he was trying to get into her skin. “Jus’ want to get close to you. You’re warm and you smell fuckin’ incredible.” His voice was a little bit more hoarse, but that was to be expected. “You’re my favorite person... To smoke with.” He added on to the thought hurriedly but she wasn’t going to call him out on it. Fingers trailed down her spine, making her shudder a little.

“Hm, is that because I let you eat my pussy?” She smirked, feeling him pull his head form her neck with a glare. Sex with him was fantastic. Maybe it was because they were usually blazed when they did it and they both felt the sensitivity that went with it along with a more intense orgasm. He was the only one who could match her drive when she was like this, so he’d easily become a favorite person of her. Though she had a feeling that he’d do it just as well without the smoking bit, that would be something to unpack at a later date.

“Hey… don’t make me sound like a lecher.” He pouted, sending her heart to beat a bit harder. One thing she’d give the man was that he was adorable. “Not the only reason. I love doin’ that but… you have the best snacks n’you let me talk about anything. Your cunt is just a bonus… though I really do love it.” Harry wasn’t usually super shy, but sometimes he got a bit bashful when it came to Y/N. There was a slight hesitation as he let their noses brush, ghosting his lips over hers. “Can I?”

“So sweet for asking.” Y/N cooed, smiling n at his request. He wanted to kiss her. She could taste how bad he wanted it when the high had hit him, but now he wasn’t able to hold back much. “Go ahead, pretty boy. Since you seem to like it so much.”

Harry was a little messy with it, smearing their lips together and grazing his teeth over her bottom lip. There wasn’t much to hide his desperation as he adjusted himself on top of her, pulling one of her legs to wrap around his hip. “I do.” He breathed before licking into her mouth. Her lips were so sweet and soft, tasting like the cola she’d drank and mint chapstick. His favorite thing. Pulling apart with a soft clicking sound, he let out a groan as he looked down at her. Her bun was all messed up with some flyaways, lips wet and eyes hazy. His favorite sight. Seeing he undone when usually she was so put together, knowing he’d been the one to get to see her like this… it did things to his “I really fucking do.”

Y/N whimpered as he devoured her. His tongue hot in her mouth and his hand gripping her thigh to keep her close, she couldn’t help but grow hot when she felt him against her. It wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last, but it still surprised her every time. How had she ever fit that inside of her? Tightening her legs around his hips, she heard the hitch in his breathing before he pulled away from her lips to groan. It gave her a chance to pull her shirt off her body, exposing her tits to him.

Harry nearly whimpered at the sight of them, pressing a bruising kiss to her lips before making his way down. “Fuck, the things you do t’me.” He whispered, moving closer to her breasts. “Can I kiss on them a bit, pretty? It’ll feel good.” He pleaded, sighing against the skin as she nodded at the request.

Sponging kisses all over the swells, he gently rocked his hips into hers to relieve a bit of the ache. His cock was thick and throbbing, desperate for some relief. The hear of her cunt could he felt through her panties, making Harry thank whatever higher power that she’d chosen the big shirt no pants combination today. “Gorgeous. You’re so pretty, all over.” He praised, puckering his lips over a nipple for a kiss. She shivered under him, her grip in his hair getting fuller as he brought it into his mouth.

Y/N sighed in pleasure as his hot mouth suckled on her. She’d loved when he did this last time, licking over her tits while he was inside of her. He was still clothed this time but somehow that was just as hot to her. Panties were ruined regardless, but she arched her back slightly as he took more of her breast into his mouth and rolled his tongue around the nipple. “Oh, shit.” The girl whimpered, rocking her hips in return. The stimulation made her head cloudy, or maybe it was the blunt, but she didn’t really care. It all felt so fucking good, it didn’t matter. “Harry… you’re so nice t’me.” She sighed, watching him pull off with a soft ‘pop’.

“I know, sweetheart. It’s what you deserve, yeah? So nice to me too…” he sighed into her chest, placing wet kisses to the skin that glistened in the light, leaving cool spots once he left. “Let me come over and smoke, let me eat your snacks, kiss your pretty mouth… let me taste you, sometimes let me feel that perfect little pussy wrapped around me… have t’be nice to my girl.”

She didn’t have a chance to answer before he repeated the process with her other nipple, making her pant. The grinding was getting harder, her breathing matching it as he rubbed over her clit in the motions. Back and forth, sweet relief as she spread herself out further and clutched his head to her breast as he worshiped them. “Fuck me, keep going like that and M’gonna cum.” She warned him, though she had no real want of him stopping.

“So cum.” He mumbled into her skin. “Won’t be the last time you do it tonight.” And oh- oh. He sounded so self assured and cocky and it did something to her, a zap of electricity to her tummy as she moaned into the air, clinging to him.

His back was firm under her hands, not stopping herself from sliding them unde this tee shirt. His skin was burning under her palms as she dragged her nails lightly down his shoulder blades. “Harder.” He instructed, rutting into her with more force. “Scratch me. S’okay.” He couldn’t help connecting their mouths again, fingers digging into the flesh of her thigh as it clung to him.

She did as asked, surprising her when he let out a deeper groan than she’d heard before. His hips quickened, sure his gray sweats were ruined but uncaring about anything else. “Gonna make me cum in my joggers.” He panted against her lips, unable to keep himself from touching her. His mouth was a magnet to her body, his cock throbbing and balls feeling exceptionally full as he dry fucked her.

“Mm… here.” She momentarily reached between them and tugged them down far enough that he was out of them. “Cum on my panties.” Her voice rang into his ears. “Already ruined them. Can’t you feel how wet you made me?” And fuck, could he.

Without the sweats in the way he could feel her soaked through panties wetting his prick, the heat of her through the barely there fabric making him insane. Though the real thing that got him was her request. “You really want that?” He questioned, buttoning their lips together for a moment because he simply couldn’t help it. “You want t’be sticky with my load all over your panties and your skin? I’ve got so much for you…” he wasn’t joking either. It had been a bit since they’d hung out and his hand didn’t do him as much justice as she could. His dick desperately missed her.

“You know I don’t mind a mess, Harry.” She purred, moving a hand to wrap around his throat. “And you’ll be a good boy and lick it off my skin, won’t you? Then you’ll lick my pretty pussy until you’re ready to fuck me. Because you’re always such a good boy for me…”

Oh, fuck. Harry whimpered at the feeling of her hand around his throat, the drop of his guilty pleasure nickname, immediately feeling the shift. He was determined to please her before, but this tone of voice and her slight overtaking made him a bit pathetic. “Yes- yeah, M’gonna do it.” He promised, adjusting them slightly so he tip could brush right over her clit. “Anything you want. Want t’make you feel so good. M’good for you.” He nodded, messily kissing her again as he quickened the pace of his thrusts.

Y/N hummed in pleasure as he got them to the right position. His hard cock rutting against her like the fabric wasn’t even there, thick and hot. She loved feeling him, knowing she’d done that to him. Her stomach tightened as she felt the perfect thrust from him, gasping into his mouth. “Oh- yes, like that. Keep it light that, baby.” She pleaded, mouth falling open as he repeated it. “Mhm… there. Gonna cum.” She had been worked up for a little bit now but feeling his need to please her helped her get there.

“Please, please do it. Want you to cum, want you to feel so good… you’re so perfect, please cum for me. Give it to me, fuckin’ goddess….” He spoke to her like he needed her orgasm to breathe. Whimpery and needy and unlike how he usually sounded, but with his perfect angle and the friction against her clit combined with that, she was pushed over the edge.

“Yes- yes, fuck me.” Head falling further back into the cushions, she dug her nails into his back with one hand while the other tightened on his throat. Sparks igniting her nerves and her legs held on to him like a lifeline as she came. Harry never knew a prettier sight in his life than how she looked when he made her orgasm.

“Give me it too, H. Make me a sticky mess so you can clean me.” She gasped out. “You’ve been so good, I know you can give me what I want. Please?” Her voice shook slightly. “Give me what I want.” Giving just the slightest bit more pressure to the fingers on the sides of his throat, she knew exactly how much to press to make him lightheaded. Choking was a weakness of his, something that made him cum embarrassingly fast a lot of the time, but this time he was grateful as he let out a sob. His prick was slick with her and aching to release but he tried to hold back for her sake. With the mix of the high being at its height, the sensitivity overwhelming him and how she knew exactly how to touch him- The moment she called him a good boy and gave him the head rush he needed, he was a fucking goner.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, M’gonna cum-“ he babbled her name as he found his release. Jerking against her, hot ribbons of the pearly cum shot against the covered cunt and over her tummy. His balls pulsed as he unloaded on her, smearing it over himself and her as his hips sloppily worked him through the orgasm. Face slack in rapture, he let out a hoarse groan as the last of it spilled from his tip, hips jerking a few times before he felt her hand fall and his mouth descended on hers again.

“You’re gonna be the end of me, hm?” He slurred, biting her lip with a hum before he lowered his body onto hers. His prick was sensitive but he made no move to pull back, pecking her over and over again as she caressed his cheek with her choking hand. Y/N was by far the best at it regardless, intuition leading her to know exactly what he liked. “Feel like m’fucking floating. Dunno if it’s the high or your cunt.” He snickered, feeling her return the laugh.

“Probably a mix of both.” She smiled, giving him a few kisses of her own. “But we’ve got plenty to keep it going for a while. Are you up for it, pretty boy?” The girl had no plans but to be blazed and fucked for the rest of the night, and she hoped he was on the same page.

“M’up for anything, you fuckin’ goddess.” He mumbled as he sat up on his knees to look at the mess they’d made. It was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen, her cunt and little thatch of hair visible through the now transparent fabric and splattered with cum on the ruined panties and her tummy. It made his mouth water just looking at it. “Jesus… look at this.” He mumbled, spreading her further open with his hand. “Seems like I’ve got a lot of work to do, don’t I?”

[tastesousweet]

⭒ blurb : calling hamzah your “friend”

bf!hamzah x poc!reader

summary : headcannons/blurb based on the tiktok trend of calling your partner “friend”

mickey speaks : since ppl really liked my first lil blurb imma just play out all my tt fantasies with our fake bf :D also pls send me any hamzah reqs my brain is very empty lmfao!!!!

─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────

you prop your phone up against the vase of flowers on your dining room table, capturing both you and hamzah in frame.

“guysss!! look my friend brought me takeout hibachi for dinner tonight!” you squeal and lift the styrofoam box to show off your meal.

hamzah doesn’t catch it the first time, he’s honestly tweaking because he stopped to get you both dinner right after the gym.

he feels starved but maintains composure and a smile for your tiktok bit

“i just got the basic fried rice, veggies, and chicken. i think my friend got the same, hamzah what’d you get?”

his eyebrows pinch in confusion for a second, “uh yeah, i got the same as you.”

“okay first bites! i’ll have my friend go first” you can’t help but smile when you grab the phone and start to record hamzah, but he’s paused holding his fork in the air.

“why do you keep saying that?” he softly asks through a laugh.

“what?”

“callin’ me your friend?”

“are we not friends...?" "i mean yeah sure but like not just that?" "you're confusing me, just take your bite please we’re gonna run out of time on this”

he nods his head compliantly and exaggerates a hum of “mmm!” after his bite before taking your phone to film yours.

“okay friend, your turn!” he loudly mocks with a wide grin.

you try not to laugh while taking a bite yourself

“it's actually so good, i needed this right now.”

you now record the both of you, “okay my friend and i are gonna finish this and then we’ll be back with more bestie activities!”

as soon as you say 'friend' again hamzah leaves the frame to chuckle through the amount of food in his mouth.

“right, best friend?” you urge some more

he swallows and pettily glances from side to side, “where's the best friend at???”

“okay he’s trippin’ but we’ll be back”

you're both in your bathroom now, hamzah reads over the packaging of two sheet face masks while you pull your hair away from your face with a fuzzy cat-eared headband.

"'kay, now we're gonna do these face masks together, because hamzah’s such a good friend!” you hold and rub his arm.

he puffs his lips and closes his eyes in defeat while shaking his head, “stop,” he looks down at you, noticing your headband, “that’s cute,” he flicks one of the cat ears on your headband.

“you look like one of those get ready with me girls; you'd be like,” he mockingly pretends to push his hair back, “‘get ready with me to lie on the internet!’”

you laugh with him and add to the joke as well, "get ready with me to kill my boy-friend! my friend!" your eyes widen and you try hide the embarrassment.

hamzah quite literally points and laughs, "look at you! even you know you're a damn lie! girl, get outta here!"

cuts to a clip where it’s just hamzah talking to your phone as he shifts the mask around on his face, “i don’t even know if i’m doin’ this right, bruh.” he looks into the camera, “oh hell nah, i look crazy!”

“it feels so weird…” he taps at the slick, cold mask some more before coming close to the camera again, “guys im having a fucking identity crisis. why’s my girlfriend gaslighting me right now?"

“like, i didn’t even know that girls knew how to do that…comment down below right now and give me tips on how to understand women.”

“okay i found one, look how cute!” you’re back and holding another fuzzy headband with a bow in the middle.

hamzah laughs, “i love you, but im not wearing that.”

in the next clip of course he’s wearing it, “aw don't we look so cute?”

finally cuts to a clip of you later that night throwing yourself next to him in bed and flipping the camera to record him as he plays candy crush, curled under the comforter. “hi babbyyyyy! i was joking about the friend thing i know you’re my boyfriend.”

“i know you know i’m your boyfriend,” he distractedly mumbles, laying on his side while continuing to move his thumb around his phone screen.

you flip the camera once more as you wrap an arm around him and squish your face on top of his hooded head. he looks into the camera and smirks to himself when he sees your sweet face.

he sticks his tongue out obnoxiously, yells “goodnight vlog!!!” and covers your phone's camera with his hand forcing a loud cackle out of you.

[beefrobeefcal]

the BEEF | #1: Joel Miller

Summary: no-outbreak AU, Joel has a headache and that headache wants his attention. [based on a prompt THOT up in collaboration with @strang3lov3]

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader | Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 3,833

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, angry fools who want to play hide the sausage, angry joel, shovel violence against a truck, monster cock, age gap (joel is in his 50's, reader is younger), p in the v (unwrapped), rough dresser sex,

Author's Notes: welcome to the BEEF. Each P-boy has a thorn in their side that has to be dealt with. Thank you to @covetyou for inspiring the idea, and thank you @neverwheremoonchild, @strang3lov3, @rebel-held & @bitchesuntitled for their brains and eyes.

and thank you to every friendo in the Bistro - it's all for you, babies.

Joel Miller was your street’s cranky asshole. No one dared throw a party or hold a garage sale without letting him know first. No one dared let their grass get over a certain length and the whole neighbourhood breathed a sigh of relief when he would go out of a town and not see the kids scribble with chalk on the sidewalks in the summer. He never called the cops; no, instead he showed up and berated whoever was hosting an event or engaging in an activity he found offensive. And he was intimidating. He wasn’t the tallest, but he was built like a brick shithouse. You’d lived on the block for almost nine years, and in that time, Joel had gone from being a broad, sturdy single father to a single, empty nester who lived off HungryMan frozen meals. He was a big man with linebacker shoulders and a meaty chest stacked on top of a boulderous belly. His plaid button up shirts always looked like they were holding on for dear life to avoid his temper.

And you were utterly in love with him.

Before the most recent snowfall, you’d been in your room on your bed with the window open a crack to let in some fresh air. Right below your window was Joel’s front porch, and as soon as you heard his door fly open, you grabbed your vibrator and listened.

“Get off my lawn!”, you heard him bellow at who ever had dared to approach his house.

You smiled to yourself and turned on your purple silicon friend and shoved it in your underwear.

As Joel berated the hapless victim of his temper, you nudged yourself closer to the edge. As you did, you cared less about the volume of your cries and let your noises out at top volume. By the time you came, Joel was standing on his porch with his mouth agape, staring at your bedroom window and the offending party walked away with a look of disgust.

*****

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.

You watched as your snow shovel slipped out of your hands and hit your Joel’s truck. The one with the vanity plate ‘SM 9000’ that you had no clue what it meant. You could only sit back and watch as it fell and gouged in the paint job on Joel’s 1989 Dodge Ram pickup, your panties grew damp as you heard his front door open and slam against his house.

You turned around, raising your hands, trying to look like you were de-escalating the situation. “Joel, I-“

“The fuck’re you think you’re doin’?!”, he bellowed, stomping towards you.

As he yelled and flew into a tantrum over your shovel’s sins, you couldn’t help the stupid, lovesick half grin blooming on your face.

“… and you ain’t got no respect for no one’s property and…”, he stopped, took a breath, and looked you over, face twisting in a confused rage as he tried to figure out why you were looking at him as if he were a can of tuna and you were a cat watching him being pulled open ever so gently.

“The fuck is wrong with you?!”, he yelled, stepping forward, trying to scare you to no avail. He huffed and stomped his foot, trying to snap you out of whatever trance you were in.

You sighed and tilted your head, loving the attention he was finally bestowing on you, not caring that your reaction was essentially dumping gasoline on a house fire.

“Fuckin’ disrespectful shit…”, he snarled as he grabbed your arm and dragged you towards his house.

“Joel? What’re you doing? Where we going?”, you asked with a big dumb grin on your face then wincing at the harsh grip he had on your elbow. Your boots slipped and skidded on the icy walkway and you tripped heading up the stairs.

“Fuckin’ clumsy dumbass…”, he grumbled, shoving you through his front door and slamming it behind you both.

You looked around his entry way, noting the ugly wallpaper and the stale cigarette smell lingering. You crinkled your nose, and he turned around, his frown deepening into a scowl.

“Boots off!”, he barked, harshly motioning to your feet.

You didn’t miss a beat and toed them off quickly, kicking them into the wall. His jaw clenched as he watched the dirty snow clumps slide slowly down, leaving wet patches on his yellow-turned-brown floral wallpaper.

His eyes snapped up to yours, expecting an apologetic look. Instead, he was met with…

“Why the fuck you lookin’ at me like a love sick puppy?”

Joel was enraged. You didn’t run away or beg for forgiveness. No. You stood in his entry way, kicking your boots and making a mess, looking like he was David Cassidy or Patrick Swayze. You smiled back softly and that was the last straw for him.

“WHAT IN THE FRESH HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

You could have cum right there. Joel Miller was yelling right in your face. You’d gotten off by listening to him lose his shit at anyone trying to fundraiser or collect donations who had dared knock on his door but having a front row seat to a live performance was better than you could have ever imagined.

Joel watched your lips part and your brows twitch as they furrowed and your head tilt back slightly. He heard your breath hitch between his furious growling breaths, and his eyes slid down your parka-clad frame and he swore he saw your thighs clench.

His eyes went wide as he realized the effect he was having on you.

“You fuckin’ dirty little shit…”

The whimper he received in response made his cock twitch in his WalMart Levi’s. He sucked in a harsh breath and swallowed hard. He hadn’t had a woman look at him like that since he went to the strip club with his brother for his bachelor party, and he knew she was looking for a hefty tip. But you – the only thing he could think of is that you were trying to find a way to get out of paying for the damage your shovel caused. There was no waythat you were actually interested in him in that way. No. No woman had wanted to fuck him since before his daughter, Sarah, had been in junior high. He was a fat old asshole and you… you weren’t.

“Joel…”

Your soft voice pulled him back and the frown he carried all but left his face, being replaced with eyebrows to his hairline and his mouth open in confusion and shock.

“Joel, I… I’m sorry about your truck.”

You grabbed the zipper to your parka and pulled down, opening it to reveal your great aunt’s knitted sweater with a loon on it. Joel’s widened eyes swept over you and his brows furrowed.

“The hell you up to?”, he croaked, trying to sound intimidating.

“It’s warm in here”, you respond, tossing your parka on to, but missing completely, the stair banister.

His mind was racing. You actually seemed to be coming on to him as you stepped closer in your mismatched socks. You looked up at him through your lashes while your hands slowly slid up your legging-clad thighs and up to the hem of your sweater. He watched as you pulled it over your head slowly, getting it stuck for a moment, revealing a worn out white t-shirt with a faded image of a marshmallow peep and the slogan ‘Holla At My Peeps!’. He took another step back and you tossed your sweater at him, and he stumbled back, falling onto his recliner.

“Jesus, woman!”, he hollered, ripping your sweater off his head just in time to see you standing above him.

“You know how hot you are?”, you asked, leaning forward over him.

He froze. He must be dead. Or asleep. Or maybe he slipped when he stormed out the door to yell at you and hit his head. Or maybe he was drunk. Maybe he took a NyQuil tablet instead of the Omega 3-6-9 fish oil pills.

“The hell is wrong with you?”, he sputtered out, looking at you wide-eyed.

You didn’t answer. You only leaned forward, nudging your nose against his and letting out a breathy giggle. He tried to speak again, but his words got lost in the high pitch grunt he let out when your knee came up and nestled in between his thighs, pushing against the considerable bulge that had developed.

His hand involuntarily gripped your wrist that was supported on his arm rest, and he sucked in a deep breath.

“I know exactly what you need, Joel Miller.”, you cooed, tongue jutting out and licking your teeth, trying to sound seductive. “You need a good fuck.”

His mouth hung open in shock. You grinned wildly and kissed the tip of his nose before nipping at his bottom lip and tugging it between your teeth.

Joel let out a groan and closed his eyes, the hand on your wrist moving to your t-shirt’s hem and slipped underneath it. You nudged your knee against his crotch again and kissed him, tasting no-name waffles and burnt coffee.

The kiss seemed to break something in Joel. This wasn’t a dream, or an antihistamine induced hallucination or a concussion - this was real. You, his hot, young, stupid neighbour was crawling onto his lap and shoving your tongue down his throat.

He grunted lowly and pushed you back, looking up at you with dark eyes. You tried moving forward again, but his hand held you back.

A whine emanated from your throat, and he shook his head. “I’m not fucking you-“

You scoffed and he shushed you.

“Oh, hush and lemme finish, you loony shit!”, he huffed. “I was sayin’ that I'm not gonna fuck you in this chair; it barely holds my weight and if you’re gonna be bouncin’ on me, this fuckin’ thing’ll screw the pooch.”

You shrugged your shoulders, irritated. “Okay, fine. Then where?”

“My bed, you nimrod!”, he snapped with a scowl, then grinned. “Got a nice mattress with good lumbar support.”

*****

You had followed Joel to his room and were pleasantly… let down. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but the beige walls and the picture of a horse above his non-exciting bed were not what you had thought he would have. What surprised you was the essential oil diffuser plugged in on his bedside table, giving the air a fresh lavender smell.

The fact that the rest of his house looked like a rejected concept for an early nineties sitcom and his bedroom looked like a bed and breakfast that had no theme, for some reason, made you want him more. This man and his lack of consistency. You needed him in you now.

Grabbing his arm and turning him around, you pulled him into a desperate kiss; teeth and tongues, fighting for real estate in each other’s mouths.

“Get naked, sugar.”, he grunted as he broke the kiss with a lopsided grin. He unsnapped his shirt, revealing a grey, stained undershirt, its ribbing pulled tight and stretched over his belly while his mouth and surrounding patchy facial hair glistened with your saliva.

While he wasn’t being that polite, he wasn’t being mean. That was a problem. Even with how mundane he’d revealed himself to be, it wasn’t enough. The residual dampness that made your panties stick to your core was a result of him yelling at you out front, and that goodwill your pussy had shown was slowly drying up.

Joel’s hands began to make quick work of his belt and stretch denim jeans, but he noticed you not moving to do the same.

His hand flapped at you in an urging motion, “Make with the no clothes. Can’t fuck you with them on.”

His eyes narrowed as he noted your lack of movement, and he paused. You began to see signs that Joel was getting mad, and your mind flipped through every situation you’d witnessed him lose his shit in.  What was it that would set him off quick? You weren’t about to throw a block party in his room, nor were you a religious group knocking at his door early on a Saturday. Then it clicked.

A devious grin broke out slowly on your face as you sat on his Temperpedic mattress and crossed your arms.

“Make me.”

“You indignant little shit…”, he growled, clenching his fist.

A flutter in your lower belly. More.

“Come on. Make me.”

“You fuckin’ tease… Fuck you!” His eyes were filling with fire.

An almost painful need bloomed in your core. More!

“Fuck me yourself, coward.”

He sputtered and guffawed, eyes wide in rage.

“You fuckin’ shit! Bangin’ up my truck and actin’ like a needy Jezabel just to fuckin’ tease me like this!”

You could have cum right there, between the iron grip on your wrist and his loud belittling.

You couldn’t stop the giggle that erupted, and he snarled. He grabbed your hand and yanked you up off the bed. You truly thought his back was bad enough that the effort of getting you up alone would be too much, but he shoved you against his dresser, then slamming his weight into your back. You whined, feeling your pussy clenching on nothing.

“You’re such a shit!”, he grunted, grabbing your elasticized waistband, and yanking your leggings and panties down on one side while your hand went to the other; the two of you awkwardly working towards removing your barrier.

When they were low enough on your legs to step out of, you clumsily did so, then tried to turn around to help Joel. He wasn’t fast enough, swearing under his breath as your hands lifted his belly to access his strained button fly. His mouth was on your neck, sucking and biting like a dog on a window while a steak was being grilled just on the other side.

You pushed his jeans down around his hips and they pooled around his ankles. He kicked them off and bit down on the crux of your neck and shoulder as your hand cupped and felt up his hard cock.

Jesus. Oh fuck.

Joel was hung. Like unreasonably so. You’d had your fair share of men slamming their pork steeples into your wet cunt, but none of them could even hold a candle to the monstrosity that sat heavy and covered in satin in your hand. You planted your hand on his chest and pushed him back, needing to get a peek at what Joel was packing. You immediately looked down, seeing the Wile E. Coyote faux-satin boxers protruding out in an impressive, and frankly intimidating, bulge.

“Oh shit...”, you breathed out, contemplating on whether you truly needed to do any serious sitting for the next week, or if you could maybe just get away with laying down at work.

His hand snapped to your jaw, forcing you to look him in the eye, and he gave you a dark smile, “Showed up to a gun fight with a knife, sugar?”

You didn’t have time to respond because Joel shoved his hand between your legs and harshly began rubbing your clit.

Your eyes fluttered and rolled back. Joel watched, an approving sneer on his face.

“’S fucked up … you like this?”

“uh…. Uh-huh…”

“You’re a lunatic…”

You smiled lazily. “You’re fingering a lunatic… w-what’s that say about you?”

He paused then huffed out, “That I’m fingering a lunatic, you moron.”

You let out a throaty laugh that bleeds into a moan as Joel shoves two thick fingers into your hole, slowly dragging them out before plunging them back in.

“You’re a sick little shit… you seducin’ and teasin’ an old man, an’gettin’ me all wound up… Neighbourhood headache… that’s you. Fuckin’ shit up and walkin’ away with a smile on her dumb face.”

“’M close… don’t…. don’t stop…”

His fingers kept the slow languid pace going as he leaned in and harshly whispered, “Unlike you, sugar, I don’t like to leave people disappointed.”

His eyes never left you, watching your every move. Every involuntary twitch and shudder, every flutter of your eyelids and breath leave your parted lips. He could feel it around his fingers and see it on your face that you were feeling everything intensely and now that he had you like this, he wasn’t going to let you go without making sure you weren’t going to pull this shit again.

Joel was many things, but a man who could let things go was not one of them. He was tired of hearing you cream and cry on whatever silicon thing you were shoving into yourself through your bedroom window as he lost his shit on someone; tired of seeing you make eyes at him while you sat in your front yard as he grumbled at a neighbour for the state of their lawn. He was still furious at you for once letting your hand - your soft, sweet, tender hand - linger on his when handing him his mail that was accidentally delivered to your home, forcing him to sit in his shitty recliner and try to finish with his calloused, rough, and hard hand. He never came.

You were going to pay for that. He’d promised himself that for almost five years and now here you were, on your way to being a muppet with how his hand played in your pussy. Joel’s time had come.

You came, moaning, on his hand as he watched, his fingers still moving in and out of you, and his thumb took up the task of tending to your twitching clit. Your face twisted and you cried out, trying to push his hand away.

Your tongue felt thick in your mouth and a moan seeped out. As you rode the wave, he yanked his hand out and grabbed your arm, throwing you onto the bed.

“Goddammit, you’re such a pretty shit.”, he grumbled, reaching for your ankle, and tugging your ass to the edge of the bed. You tried sitting up on your elbows, but he shoved you back down with his body weight.

His weight. Good god, he felt heavier and better than you ever thought he could as he pressed you down into the mattress.

But he got up off you, trying to wrangle your ankles and pull your exposed pussy to just the right spot to save his back from being strained. You tried sitting up again, wanting to have some sort of control over the situation, but Joel growled and grabbed your hips, and, in an impressive feat, flipped you onto your front all while grumbling about what a pain in the ass you were.

“Can’t even fuckin’ be considerate enough to stay put…”

You heard him spit then grunt, figuring he was priming that fucking meat wagon between his legs, and you let out an impatient huff.

“Knock that shit off!”, he snapped, flicking you on your ass cheek. “You just came, nimrod. You can fuckin’ wait!”

“Yeah… but I wanna cum again!”, you whined out with a smile, trying to not laugh at how irritated he was with you.

“I bet you do… but you’re on my time, and I am a patient man, sugar.”, he crooned lowly, snaking his hand up your back and to your hip. You squirmed a bit, but his hold kept you planted in place, and his other hand held his cock as he nudged it against your opening.

The smile on your face dropped as his huge member pushed in; your mouth opened, and out came a gasp followed by a choked moan.

“That’s it… Jesus Murphy…  not even fuckin’ your throat and I got you to shut your mouth…”

Yes, you knew Joel was huge. But it was just an abstract concept up until that moment. Now that he was shoving his massive dick into you, you felt like the universe’s mysteries were now clearly laid out. You knew what religion was right, who shot JFK, how they made the moon landing look real…

Nothing in life would ever surprise you again because you were being split open by this grumpy, fat man. You were being ruined by Joel Miller.

He grunted as he pulled back and then slammed into you.

“Tight little snatch, sugar… takin’ me like a champ.”

You couldn’t respond. Your brain had melted and left your skull empty, and you were unable to do anything but breathe loudly and moan, “S’too big… too big…”

Joel snickered and grunted, snapping his hips and shoving himself deep. You wriggled and squirmed, simultaneously needing him stop and to fuck you harder. Your head began to feel faint, and your core squeezed him, forcing a groan out of him.

He began to snap his hips faster, panting and grunting like the fat kid in gym class being forced to run a mile. You whined and squirmed, trying to get your knees under your body to be able to push back against him, to get him deeper, but he grabbed your calf and bit your leg right above your sock with a growl then groaned, “Stay… stay put… don’t move… jus’lemme… lemme finish…”

You let out a yelp than melted into a moan, throwing yourself into another orgasm. Joel’s thrusts became hurried and more erratic. The high-pitched whine that ripped out of Joel sounded like a dog begging for table scraps as he shot his load into you.

He collapsed onto your back, both of you panting. After what felt like hours but in reality, was only about 30 seconds, Joel had gone quiet. You nudged him, hoping to god he didn’t die from a pussy-induced heart attack. He grunted and struggled to push himself up off you, then flopped on the bed next to you. You rolled over onto your back and looked at him. His cheeks were flushed, and his brows furrowed; his wispy salt and pepper hair stuck to his forehead and his eyes were closed. He was still breathing heavily through his mouth. You smiled, feeling a fulfillment you hadn’t since you’d convinced your parents that it was your sister who broke the CD-ROM drive in the family computer even though it was really you. Cuddling into his, your fingers drew heart shapes in his sweat coated chest hair.

Now that he’d fucked you, you wanted to clear the air as it were, and make sure he wasn’t going to make you pay for any damage to his truck. “So…”

Joel grunted in response, one eye opening and looking at you.

“I was just wondering… what’s your licence plate mean?”

He sighed and closed his eye again. He said the meaning quietly and at first you weren’t sure you heard him right.

“What?”

His cheeks flushed a little harder and he rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a huff.

“ShagMaster 9000.”

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