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#also fucked up legs very awesome
p0th · 1 year
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nya
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fushitoru · 3 days
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i can't stop looking at his d—d—d—d—FACE!
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pairings ⸺ (SEPERATE) boy next door!gojo x reader, wrestler!toji x reader, gym trainer!sukuna x reader, pizza delivery boy!choso x reader, husband's boss!nanami x reader, perv on train!geto x reader
summary ⸺ jjk men as overused p0rn/h3ntai plots! inspired by this awesome post by the talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular @/osamucide! pls check it out and the rest of his work :3
warnings ⸺ SMUT (mdni), consent is pre-established in all scenarios (but dub con just in case), everyone is of age (or older), exhibitionism, infidelity in nanami’s, pussy drunk men lol, not edited (as always), cowgirl, missionary, creampies, VERY public sex in toji’s, art by 3-aem, lmk if I’ve missed anything!
a/n lolll i'm ngl this was so fun to write. some of these scenarios are so funnny hELP. this one is also for some of the anons who are so obsessed w choso and sukuna in bridgerton au. wrote them for you 🫡 choso’s is my fav hehe
general masterlist
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SUKUNA RYOMEN ⸺ HOTTIE'S PERSONAL TRAINER HAS A VERY HANDS ON APPROACH!
“Brat!” Sukuna’s voice cuts through the air like a whip. “Watch your back. You’re supposed to be hinging your hips back, not whatever lazy shit you were doing.”
He steps around to your side, the heavy thud of his boots on the gym floor adding to the oppressive weight of his presence. Squatting down, he sets his hips back in one smooth motion, demonstrating with sharp precision. “Like this. Not whatever the fuck that was.”
You glance at him, your legs trembling under you. Sweat clings to your skin, a thin sheen that feels heavy after the grueling thirty minutes with your personal trainer. Sukuna definitely takes the "tiger mom" approach, every tattoo on his body echoing the sharp, uncompromising authority in his eyes. Right now, those eyes bore into you, narrowed with impatience, his hands on his hips. His scowl is practically carved into his face—stone-hard and unmoving.
Breathing hard, you slump forward, hands gripping your knees as you gasp for air. Your heartbeat drums loudly in your ears. “Sukuna, g-give me a sec. I just—fuck—” You can barely string a sentence together between gulps of air. “I just maxed out. My legs are literally shaking.”
Sukuna clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disappointment, but his voice softens—just a little. “Fine. Catch your breath. But as you do that, let’s practice proper form.”
You nod exhaustedly, not being able to think very clearly. Wiping the sweat to prevent it from getting into your eyes, you put your legs hip width apart as Sukuna gets behind you to observe your form. You bend down, trying to sit back onto your hips as best as possible, but as soon as your ass grazes Sukuna’s crotch, you lose the form in your back in surprise. “Sorry—”
“That was wrong.” Sukuna’s voice is in your ear as he puts his hands on your hips, and you are dizzy with the contact. “Here.” Both of you squat down, Sukuna’s hard body moving right behind you, and at the lowest position, Sukuna’s thumb roves over the fat of your ass, and they leave your hips to trace up your back. “Your back should be neutral, otherwise you’re going to hurt yourself.”
“O—okay,” you breathily reply, dizzy with the way he was touching you. If you listened closely, it almost sounded as if you were whimpering. Unfortunately for you, it seemed like Sukuna was more observant than you had hoped because he was looking at you in suspicion, eyes raking up and down your figure to observe your appearance. Disheveled, chest rising rapidly, sweat dripping right in the middle of your breasts—
Sukuna, out of nowhere, grabs your hand and begins walking away. “Come with me. You’re not doing them right.”
Soon, you’re led into one of the gym’s stretching rooms—the private ones, the ones meant for Sukuna to help you after the workout. 
“Sukuna, what are we—” you breathlessly ask, but you’re quickly shushed by Sukuna as he hoists himself on the massage table.
“Come here,” he motions to his lap, and you wordlessly follow his directions, sitting directly on top of his lap, gasping as you realize there’s a bulge making contact with your pussy. “We’re going to try an alternative way of doing squats, one that involves a bit more cardio.” He pulls down his sweatpants, blushing, furious cock springing out as he pulls down your yoga pants.
Soon, you’re moaning as you slowly take in his cock, sliding down as his precum and your copious amount of slick mix and drip onto his pelvis. Your feet are on either side of his legs, making you squat every time you lower yourself down on his length.
“Fuck! You’re so tight.” He slaps your ass as you bounce yourself rapidly on his cock. “Pretended to not know how to squat just for me to put this fat cock in you, isn’t that right?”
You didn’t have the capacity to answer, just moan as his cock hits your spot. Unsatisfied with your pace, Sukuna flips you both over until your back is on the table. 
“Oh fuck yea,” Sukuna pants, hips pistoning into you rapidly, effectively fucking you into the table, and his quads are bulging in sheer strength as they clench and unclench in reflection of his pleasure. “Didn’t know my client had such a sweet pussy.”
KAMO CHOSO ⸺ SHE ORDERS BIG SAUSAGE PIZZA AND GETS HER DEEP DICK CRAVINGS FILLED! (the title is so ridiculous im crying)
“Your total’s $14.93. You’re five bucks short.” The delivery boy—an emo looking guy with hair in space buns—responds to the wad of cash and coins you had just given him. He couldn’t look any less bored than he was as he stared down impassively at you, hot, steaming pizza in one hand.
"Wait, but I ordered a small?" You ask him in confusion. "I couldn't possibly finish a large one by myself!"
He pulls out your receipt from where it was tucked into the pizza box. "Your order said a large." Upon glancing on it, you look that he was indeed correct—right next to your pizza, the size LARGE glared at you through the sheen of the reciept's paper.
"Oh," You said, dumbly, blinking in confusion. "Well, I can pay the rest in card if that's okay."
You get an impassive "I don't have a card reader."
"Oh, okay," you laugh nervously, hand going up to scratch the back of your head and fiddle with the rest of your fingers. "Okay, well," you squinted at his nametag, "Choso, let me just check the remaining cash I have. You can come inside if you'd like." 
He comes inside, dropping off the pizza you ordered on your kitchen counter as he makes his way to sit on your couch. You go to your bedroom, checking your desk drawer for any loose cash you may have stored but to no avail. Heart racing and nervous, you frantically search the upper shelf of your room, on your tiptoes as you look for your money jar, praying that there was a 5 dollar piece of cash lying around. Instead, your fingers crash against some book propped on it, tumbling down onto the floor with a large thud!
You hear footsteps coming up to your bedroom door. Choso, standing near the door. "You good?"
"Yea," you strain, still reaching up high to grasp at the jar. "I'm just trying to find somethi—”
The heat of Choso's body surrounds you as he presses closer to you, reaching up effortlessly to grab at the money jar. His groin presses against your backside, acutely aware of his breaths as he passes you the jar. 
Which is empty.
"Fuck!" you curse. You turn, looking at Choso in anxiousness, as you notice he hasn't backed away at all. "I'm sorry, but is there any alternative way to pay for the pizza? Again, I'm really really sorry for the hassle."
"You have to pay for the food in some sort of way," he says with a stony face. Your mind is racing, thinking of ways you could pay but coming up short.
As a result, you end up with your face stuffed against your pillow, the hot delivery boy plowing and drilling his cock into you. 
"Fuck, so irresponsible. Couldn't even pay for the pizza she ordered without a stranger's cock inside of her." At his dirty talk, you whimper and squeeze his pussy, Choso groaning as a result.
"What was that?" He grabs your hair and pulls your face up as his tongue traces the frame of your ear. "What were you trying to say, you cockslut?"
"'M sorry!" You squealed and babbled, eliciting little ah! ah! ah!'s as he continues bumping his cockhead against the gooey spot inside your pussy.
"Yea, you better be. Wasting my fucking time. I'm going to come inside, got it?" Choso growls as he continues pistoning his hips inside.
GETO SUGURU ⸺ ANIME GIRL GETS HER PUSSY FINGERED ON PUBLIC TRAIN!
He pulls you in for a deep kiss while rutting inside you. "Aren't you my good girl? Taking this cock for me like a good girl?" You squeal, blabbering nonsense as he fucks you into next Tuesday…
You read the smut from your favorite author on Tumblr, devouring each word while remaining stony faced as the train rocked underneath your feet. In the corner facing the doors, you made sure that you were angled in such a way that no one would be able to see the filthy things you were reading on your screen. 
However, the metro was slowing down and you looked up quickly—which was painful, considering you were so invested in the story—to make sure it wasn't your stop. As the rush of foot traffic simultaneously populated and vacated the metro, you paid no attention to the people behind you. After all, other people would be too busy on their phones to see what you were reading, right?
"You're going to take this cum, right? I'm going to breed you, my sweet, sweet girl." He laughs.  You take a moment to take in his pretty features. Long hair, beautiful face, all filled with lust for you...
You scan the words, blush evident on your face as your favorite writer has done it yet again. Adjusting, you squeezed your thighs for relief and toyed with the hem of your skirt, failing to notice the soft breaths trailing down the back of your neck just because of how enthralled and taken you were with the plot.
And then, a hand trailed up your thigh, catching you by alarm. You almost drop your phone in your rush to turn and look at the creep that was touching you, ready to beat the shit out of him. 
But when you do turn, you stop and widen your eyes. The man in front of you seems even prettier than the fictional man you were reading about, and you take him in as he rubs circles on your thigh. His sultry eyes rake down your figure, his lips pulled back in a knowing smirk. "That's some filthy shit you're reading."
Looking at him, your heart starts beating faster solely because of the promise of what his hands would do as they were currently softly stroking your thighs, getting closer and closer to going under your shirt. "I—I—uh sorry—I—"
"It's okay, pretty girl." He gives you a kiss on the side of your neck. "Continue reading it. Can you do that, baby?"
You nod, not trusting your voice. Coincidentally, you're at the part where the man helps the girl masturbate, rubbing and teasing her pussy up and down. The man behind you does the same, teasing your lips while refusing to delve inside your panties, no matter how badly you want him to do.
"That feel good?"
You whimper. "Yes—ah—it feels good. Please touch me on my pussy directly. Please."
The man behind you chuckles, and your knees buckle at how rich his voice is. You would join a cult for this man. "Since you asked so nicely, I will. Call me Suguru."
His fingers pull your panties aside and enters, soon knuckle deep inside your cunt, and as quietly as you can, you moan his name as he continues fingering you in front of all the strangers on the train. His hips press closer to your ass, and you throb even more at the huge bulge he’s sporting. He’s sloppily licking on the outside of your ear, right where you’re sensitive, and you shiver and lose yourself in the pressure even more.
The pleasure was building in you steadily and Suguru groans. “That’s right, take it all.”
You almost jump when the PA sounds. "The next stop is Shinjuku."
“That’s my stop. You have to cum before then, or you won’t be able to cum,” Suguru whispers in your ear, speeding up and hitting your g-spot with precision. There are tears forming in your eyes as you make an effort to stay quiet, especially with Suguru giving seductive kisses to your sensitive neck. 
“Fuck, you got so tight,” he groans. “Gonna cum?” He uses his thumb to rub fast circles on your clit, and you see stars. 
“I will—I will,” you cry, as the throbbing and pulsing sensation grows faster and faster until finally, you cum with a muffled cry, because Suguru has his fingers in your mouth to ensure you don’t scream out on this very, very public train.  “Squeezing my fingers so much, relax,” Suguru laughs, popping his slick-coated fingers in his mouth. “You gonna do that to my dick next?”
NANAMI KENTO ⸺ BEAUTIFUL WIFE HAS TO FUCK HER HUSBAND'S BOSS! (NTR)
“Mr. Nanami,” you scrape a hand through your hair and clear your throat. “You wanted to see me?” 
For a moment, your husband’s handsome boss eyes you down, catching on the top button of your blouse currently unbuttoned. You mainly did it because of nervousness, the heat of the room escalating with Nanami Kento’s presence. After a long bout of intimidating silence, he finally speaks. “I assume you can guess why you are here?”
You bounce your knee as you sit across from the man, and you suddenly start sweating. Of course you can guess. Your bum of a husband—the one currently under your charge—neglects to do his deliverables, choosing to take comfort in the fact that you were his higher-up to trust that he would not be getting terminated for his lack of responsibility. 
But what he doesn’t know is that you’ve been begging Nanami not to fire him, despite the propelling and clear reasons to do so. And you fear the day he finally chooses to stop listening to you. 
“Team leader, I’m going to need much more convincing. Your team has been decreasing in productivity ever since your husband joined, and it’s hindering the company,” he reminds you stoically. “I’ve seen you working overtime far too frequently to cover up for your spouse’s negligence.”
You wish time would speed up just to get this difficult conversation with. “I—I’m going to be honest, Mr. Nanami. I don’t have much warrant to continue having him on the team, but it would put my family in much…emotional conflict if this were to happen.” The said emotional conflict would really only be from your husband. You’re sure he’s going to take this as an excuse to drink himself silly, blaming you for not being able to keep him employed. Your throat dries as you finally meet eyes with your boss, silently pleading him to come up with a solution.
“I see.” Nanami crosses his arms. “I suppose there is a…favor you could do for me.”
At that, you perk up and nod your head frantically. “Of course. Anything.”
Which is why you find yourself bent over Nanami’s desk, his cock drilling inside you. He’s ripped your stockings, pulled up your miniskirt, and put your panties to the side as he moans about how sweet your pussy feels. “I’ve been waiting for this forever. Tell me, is my cock better than his?”
“It is!” you squeal. “You’re so—so big!”
Nanami moans as he ruts inside you, your walls squeezing him tight. “Darling, I c—can tell he doesn’t treat you right. You are so tight around me, pussy’s been waiting for a while for a real man.” 
You moan and curse, blabbering affirmations while his dick impales you. Even though Nanami is the one who’s owed the favor here, his hands wind their way around your body to rub at your clit, simulating you even more, making you sob. “Please don’t stop!”
“I won’t ever, sweetheart,” he pants. “I’m going to finish inside her, okay? Make sure to keep it in when you go home and greet your husband.”
FUSHIGURO TOJI ⸺ BABE GETS IMMEDIATELY DESTROYED IN NAKED WRESTLING (WITH AN AUDIENCE)
Cheers surround you as you step into the arena. You know who your opponent is—-Fushiguro Toji. Even when you looked at his pictures earlier, you knew you were doomed. No matter what angle the photographer took the photos in, his muscles seemed to be bulging, effectively spelling out the sore defeat you were about to face today.
And there he is. Him in the flesh. He’s leaning against the boxing ring’s outer borders, head tilted back lazily while his manager, Shiu, was informing him quickly (and intensely) about the rules of today.
Nothing crazy. Only fuck when all clothes are off of her.
The way his neck is tilted back, compression shirt showing off his upper physique made you weak in the knees already. Additionally, judging based off of the bulge he seemed to be sporting in his grey sweatpants, you knew you were doubly fucked.
Shiu seems to be done talking, so he steps back and takes a seat. Toji leans his head back, rolling his neck to stretch it out, and in the middle of doing so, catches your eye.
You almost drench your panties.
His eyes darken, giving you a sultry look as he cheekily winks. While his cocky demeanor was warranted (he was much stronger and bigger than you), your cheeks heated up in both arousal and irritation.
The sound of a whistle is heard as music starts to play. The stadium’s screens flashes the cocky image of Toji, who saunters in the middle of the ring, flexing his muscles to his screaming fans.
When your signature theme plays, you do the same, to no shortage of fans yourself. You can feel everyone in the stadium, especially your male fans, rove over your figure. You’re wearing a very low cut top that displays the swell of your boobs and even tighter shorts that squeeze your ass and show off the shape of your pussy. As you walk towards Toji, you can feel his heavy gaze on you as you nervously shake his hand.
“Try to last long, okay?” Toji smirks, patting your shoulder. “I’ll try to drag this out as much as I can, but it’s gonna be fuckin hard if that ass is grinding against me.”
You glare at him, but there’s not much intensity there. “Yea, yea,” you huff. “For all I know, you’ll be my personal dildo today.”
And the fucker’s smile widens. “Let the games begin.”
Soon enough, the sound of the whistle draws you towards each other, keeping each other in a lock to tackle the other down in an objective to take off layers of their clothing. Your fans cheer when you have Toji underneath you for a split second, only for female ones to become more riotous as he easily overtakes you, pins your hands down, and wrenches your shorts off of you.
“Toji is currently in the lead!” The announcer’s voice in the stadium echoes of your defeat as you flail around, now bottoms only covered by your panties. Deciding to pull out your signature move, you maneuver so your thighs surround Toji’s waist and hump your hips against his bulge. This momentarily distracts and weakens Toji, and you take full advantage of it by overtaking him and now straddling him. You quickly take off his shirt, salivating at the muscles you see. The whole stadium, in fact, can his abs and pecs glistening with sweat.
Your attention is back to Toji as he chuckles darkly. “You’re going to regret that. I was going to drag this out, princess, but I gotta fuck the brat out of you.” With that, he puts his whole body weight on you and strips you down one by one.
The arena cheers as your lace bra is uncovered, your sweat shining on the screen as your breasts are displayed. Toji then unhooks your bra, and the roars get even louder as your tits pop out. He takes a moment to grope them, your whines ignored as he pinches your nipples. “What a sensitive girl,” he coos. “Too bad she was too weak. Now she’s going through to have to take my cock.
With that, he finally unveils your glistening pussy for all eyes to see and the crowd goes wild, chanting for Toji to finish inside you. Toji flips you over so you’re on your hands and knees and pulls down his pants.
You don’t look back at the monster that’s about to enter you for the sake of your mental health, but your legs are shaking in anticipation of his cock, slick dripping down your thighs.
“Fuck.” And Toji’s slowly entering you, the humiliating plap! plap! plap! of his hips against the flesh of your ass echoing multiple strangers watch your pussy get wrecked. “The fuck this pussy’s so tight for? Thought you were a slut?”
You’re tearing up, but not fucked out enough to prevent you from snarkily replying, “You’re not turning me on, small dick.”
He did not like that very much.
Toji drills his hips into yours faster and slaps your ass multiple times consecutively. “Yea, so why is she clenching so fucking much? Why is she dripping? Just for that, I’m going to come inside of your slutty pussy.”
The crowd chants cum, cum, cum! and Toji just does that. Ropes of his cum fill you, and you drop down in exhaustion to hear Toji declared as winner.
GOJO SATORU ⸺ GIRL GETS FUCKED BY PEEPING TOM NEXT DOOR!
You sigh, extending your back and un clipping your bra, letting your tits bounce free after a long, long week of college. It was finally Friday night, and with no one in the house due to a party the rest of your family was attending, you could finally enjoy your time home on the holidays, starting with a solo session.
You clench your thighs in anticipation as you scrolled your phone, seeking an audio you could masturbate to. And you were close to finding one, until you felt eyes on you.
These eyes were nothing new. The boy next door, Gojo Satoru, has also been your crush since middle school. Even though neither of you have ever made a move, you’ve made bold moves since starting college, stripping with the blinds open to give him a show. You had kind of had a sixth sense as to when the fucker would start watching you, and it flared as you slowly dragged your hands down. Bending over and shaking your ass, you slipped your skimpy shorts down your legs, giving him a clear view of your wet pussy.
But masturbating wasn’t enough for today. None of the college frat bros could make you cum, no matter how much they boasted about their fuckin roster, and you were tired of Satoru just watching. Just seeing him work out shirtless in his lawn, sun shining his sweat to give him a golden halo, was enough to make you sick, hungry for his dick. The way he was so shy and the mannerisms he had (as a loser) let you know he had a big fucking dick.
Needless, to say, you were tired of just fantasizing and speculating about his dick. Turning around, the moonlight allowed you to see the silhouette of his wrist moving up and down his length, even if he had tried to make his best effort to darken his rooms. Putting on your best show of an angry face, you grab your phone aggressively and dial his number.
The line rings, and he picks up. “Hey,” and you can tell he’s a little breathless. “long time no see. What’s up?”
“Cut the fucking act out,” you spit. “I know you’ve been fucking watching me, perv.”
Satoru’s panic is comically obvious over the phone as he rushes his words. “Wait, wait—listen, I—I can explain.”
“On how you’re being a peeping tom?” You glare at his window. “Come over, Gojo. Then I’ll listen to your fucking explanation.”
One thing leads to another, and now you’re spread out on your childhood bed, Gojo whimpering and whining as he plows his dick into your pussy. “You feel so—so good. M’ sorry—sorry for doing that. Your pussy is too good for me to look at.”
You laugh meanly and grab his chin. “You feel sorry yet, you pervert?” And Satoru can only cry out as you yank his head. “Remember, this is the only fucking thing you’re good at. Being my glorified dildo. Got it? Now, you’re going to fill me up only after you make me cum at least two times.”
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a/n yea this was depraved….lmk what yall think tho 😭
comment and reblog I’d love to hear your thoughts! (also, requests are open heheh)
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redflagshipwriter · 2 months
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Fast Car Chapter One (of four)
Masterpost
Danny hit the brakes hard and veered into a bicycle lane with a very Fenton sort of style and disregard for physics. He dodged the gunman in the carpool lane. He stuck his tongue out as he passed and then steered back into the right lane once he’d cleared the pedestrian. 
It turned out that Gotham rewarded the sort of drivers forged in the crucible of the Fenton tactical GAV, which was great. Jazz had gotten a job as a barista for her third year at Gotham U, so he had inherited the car that she had used as a delivery driver. She’d even somehow managed to pay the taxes on it despite the restraining orders that most government offices had on the Fenton family.
Jazz had been a pizza girl, but Danny wasn’t willing to work the late nights. He worked for three different rideshare companies. It was.. Well. It was a terrible way to make a living, if he was honest. It was wretched. But it worked! Until the car crapped out on him, this was a viable option to feed himself while he was enrolled full time at the university. He was available to drive early in the mornings and for a few peak hours on the weekends.
Danny brought an order of 17 coffees to a warehouse with serious ‘murders will happen here today’ vibes and whistled as he left. People in murder warehouses actually tipped pretty well. Worker solidarity or something. He left the early birds to enjoy their 3 am drinks and then idly checked the app to see if there was anyone else waiting for a ride or delivery. 
“Victor,” he read, and took a glance at the address. It was close! He snagged the request and turned on some bubblegum pop to enhance the ride over. 
He saw a man standing outside, haunting a storefront with metal shutters pulled down. Must be the guy! Danny pulled over, checked the app, and then furrowed his eyebrows. Huh. Seemed wrong. He fixed his face before he looked back over. 
In the app, Victor didn’t look especially young or fit. In person, he was easily over 6 feet tall and lugged a huge bulky bag like it weighed nothing. 
He also had a giant ugly motorcycle helmet with the vague impression of a caveman brow ridge built into it. Danny hid his judgmental thoughts and rolled down the window to chirp, “Hi! Victor?”
“That’s me.” Victor sounded like he was auditioning for the Deft Punks, electronics grinding out his voice to a silly robot autotune. Danny hid the way his lips wanted to tremble. You can’t laugh at clients. “Can I put this in the trunk?”
Danny hated that. “Go for it.” He opened the trunk with the button and hid his real thoughts. He didn’t like people using the trunk. Why not just put it in the backseat like a normal person? There was enough room for a person and a bag there.
‘Is there enough room for this guy, actually?’ Danny wondered, looking Victor up and down subtly. Were his shoulders padded or was he actually built like that? Bizarre. 
He had the sense that Victor was tense.
‘Ah., fuck. He caught me checking out his shoulders.’
Danny cleared his throat and whipped his face forwards again. “Normally I say to sit in the backseat, but I'm not sure that's enough room for your legs. Either is fine.” 
Victor took him up on the front seat option and readjusted the passenger seat back with a casual ease. 
Danny waited a moment.
Victor cocked his head at him.
“Seatbelt,” Danny prompted.
There was a long moment. Victor silently buckled his seatbelt. 
“Awesome.” Danny put on his turn signals and pulled out. He went slower than he preferred. He’d learned the hard way that most passengers didn’t like his driving. It was great for cutting time off when he was delivering food, but no good for nervous cargo like poor Victor here. The poor guy was so anxious that he kept his emotional support helmet on when a passenger in a car. 
Danny thoughtfully drove the speed limit and let Victor change music.
They didn’t have much to talk about. Danny didn’t mind much either way. He liked quiet rides and he liked chatting alright.
“Stop the car two blocks early,” Victor said. He pointed. “There’s fine.”
Obligingly Danny guided the car to a stop and shifted to park. He jumped out of the car. “I’ll grab your bag!” He called over his shoulder. He popped open the trunk and lifted Victor’s bag with a winning smile that said ‘I deserve a good tip.’
Victor had moved to the back of the car faster than Danny expected. He paused. He looked weirdly stiff. “Thanks.” He took the bag. “...Here’s your tip.”
“Have a wonderful day!” Danny said, pretending not to be interested in how much money it was. He waved Victor goodbye and pulled out. As soon as he was a block away he counted the bills. “Fuck yeah,” he hissed. Victor tipped like a crime boss. He stuffed them into his wallet and made a mental note of the account. He’d definitely try to accept requests from him in future.
He gave two more rides before he could go back to his shitty apartment and get ready for classes. Danny parked in the little underground garage near his place where he paid a monthly fee and jogged to his place. He got his bag and left on foot.
He had a pretty normal day. The only hiccup was that it was kind of hard to focus on his lectures when he could faintly hear what had to be every TV on campus playing the same news bulletin. Danny did his best to block it out, grimacing. Having advanced senses really sucked sometimes. If he heard the breaking news jingle one more time, he might cry. 
By the time he was free he felt pushed to his limit. He went back to his place and turned off all his electronics for some peace of mind. 
The next morning felt better. He turned on the tab that said he was available for work at 3 am and ended up bringing a huge delivery of breakfast materials to the same police station that he’d left Victor at yesterday. Danny hummed as he jogged up the concrete steps with three bulging bags of baked goods and coffee grounds. He handed them to a weary-eyed receptionist and accepted his tip without looking at it. He considered cracking a joke about them being busy and decided it was better not to.
He was still an illegal entity, after all. His parents were covering for him, but scrutiny was not his friend. He didn’t want any interaction with the police or the rogue band of detective freakazoids that ran this crime town.
Back in the car, he checked his tip. Danny clicked his tongue and made a disgusted sound. He hated cops. Cheap! There was nothing worse than being cheap.
His next customer tried to rob him at gunpoint as soon as he got in the car. Danny wrestled the gun away from him and ate it while the guy watched. “Just try and report me to the app,” Danny sneered between crunches of metal. It tasted like shit and the guy probably hadn’t washed his hands, so like, yuck. But it was a choice he was making for the intimidation factor, not because it was yummy.
‘Bet my iron intake is good now.’ Danny held out his hand. “My tip,” he said, and did not unlock the car door until the shaking wannabe carjacker had given him three dollars American money. Hell yeah. “Have a good morning.”
He went into the app and canceled the ride. There was another request waiting, so he drove to it. It wasn’t the name that the app’s request had shown, but- “Good morning, Victor!” Danny waved. “Call from a friend’s app this time?”
Victor stared at him dumbly. At least, that was Danny’s best guess of what was going on inside the helmet. “Yes.” He eventually said.
Cool, cool. Very weird. But he was an ok guy and he tipped well. “Hop in,” Danny said, and unlocked the car.
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yndrgrl · 1 year
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katsuki bakugo is the only man who can help bunnygirl! you during heat.
established relationship. normal! au. first time as a couple.
warnings: nsfw, lowkey angst ngl, fellatio, praise, slight degradation, creampie
if you're here for the nsfw part, i marked it >:)
a/n: dude, idk why my last fic has that "mature" label 😭 also is this a hypersexual comfort fic? yeah.
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"are you okay? you look hot?"
"your forehead is on fire!"
"you look red. drink some water."
you've been hearing that non-stop all day. of course, you know that everyone has good intentions, but it was so annoying.
no, you didn't feel fine, nor did you feel sick. it was a strange, embarrassing thing to admit. in a world full of truly remarkable quirks, you just had to get a basic one. your quirk was rabbit. you know mirko? yeah, well you two are in the same boat.
you have floppy bunny ears the same color as your hair, a puff ball of a bunny tail, & muscular legs. all so cutesy & alright to deal with. the behavioral traits were what got you though. increased hearing, jittery/easily scared, & most annoying of all, the heat that came with it.
though it wasn't unusual to have heat, it was definitely not something you mention in a passing conversation. heat made it hard to focus on anything except for breeding & sex. your senses are enhanced, making clothes feel itchy at all times. your train of thought always derailed to live making. that's why you were prescribed heat repressant.
no side affects & it worked like a charm.
however, this month you forgot to stock up on them, & you just so happened to run out. you would've just skipped school to get some, but it was midterms, which comes with tests & presentations that simply could not be made up. it was either fail your classes or bite the bullet.
"oi! what's your deal?" someone barked at you. ah yes, your boyfriend of six months, katsuki bakugo.
"nothing," you said with annoyance. another thing about your heat is that you get irritable because of the overwhelming feeling of needing to do a certain activity. "don't worry about it."
taken aback, katsuki reached out for you & spun you around. your eyes welled with tears of frustration & utter embarrassment, the tips of your ears were red, & every thread of your clothes made your skin crawl. "hey, what's going on?"
"i-it's nothing, just leave me alone. class is about to start." you understood how much katsuki prides himself in his academics. you're not gonna be the one to drag him down; that's not very amazing-cool-awesome girlfriend of you, after all.
he wanted to say that he didn't care & let's just ditch class, but you both knew you couldn't. the exams were too important. luckily for the both of you, the last period of the day was study hall. most kids just skip it, starting their free time early.
just a few classes, then i can go get medication, that's not bad at all, i've been through worse, you thought in attempts to calm yourself.
yeah, but imagine how could it would feel to be absolutely railed, oh fuck, imagine katsuki-
you had to cut yourself off, he was standing right beside you after all.
your relationship with katsuki has been slow, healthy, & true. the most you two have done in the span of six months is make out, grind, & grope each other clothed. both of you saw a future together so having sex didn't have to happen right then & there. if it happens, it happens, but there was no need to have it to connect.
you didn't want you first time with the love of your life to be because of your current circumstances.
"did i do something?" he asked, making your ears twitch.
"no, it's not you," you reassured, "there's nothing going on." you both entered the classroom, & you could feel katsuki's worried stare focused on you the entire time.
you took exam after exam, which, in of itself, is a long, stressful process. the bell rang throughout the school, & your classmates shuffled out of the room to go to their last period. finally, it was study hall. you threw everything into your backpack without a care. you were practically panting.
throughout the school day, the pressure building inside of you only gotten worse. you couldn't stop thinking about katsuki. his god-sent body, his perfect face, his rugged voice. god, he turned you on so much-- too much, actually.
you felt bad for ignoring all of his texts throughout the day. if you didn't, however, you had a feeling you would've sent some embarrassing messages.
as you exited your class, someone grasped your wrist, dragging you out of the school. their touch lit you on fire. you knew exactly who it was. "let me go, katsuki."
"no, not until you tell me what i did!" he growled at you. he doesn't even realize how wet i am for him-
you had to shut off your thoughts, but that's easier said than done.
"i told you already. you didn't do anything."
"well something is going on with you. tell me what's happening," he raised his voice, a vice grip still hanging onto your wrist. you were getting overstimulated & overwhelmed. once again, you couldn't help the angry tears from forming. you couldn't help but hyperfixate on your panties brushing against your sensitive clit. you couldn't help that your nipples were painfully perked.
you can't just admit that though. it's such a stupid problem to you. you felt so wrong & disgusting for thinking about sex all day. "you wouldn't understand!" you finally yelled back. "you wouldn't get it."
he didn't respond. katsuki continued to drag you throughout campus, leaving you with your thoughts.
god, i made him mad, you mentally cried out. hopefully he'll hate fuck you then-
you want to rip out your own brain & throw it on the concrete. it was a constant cycle of that the entire walk.
a few moments later, you realized you were in his dorm, sitting on his bed with him across from you in his desk chair. both of your hands were in his as he brushed his thumbs against your knuckles. that alone gave you goosebumps. "please tell me what's wrong, baby," he said in a hushed near-whimper. "i'm worried about you."
"you really wouldn't get it, katsuki," you whispered, finally letting a few tears roll down your cheek.
he placed his index finger underneath your chin. he gently raised your head, your gaze following suit. the two of you locked eyes, his swirling with worry & yours sprawling in uncertainty. "then make me understand."
"it's my stupid quirk," you exasperated. you tried coming up with ways of how to say what you want to say without scaring him off.
"what about it?" he asked.
"you have such a nice quirk, you know," you started, avoiding his question. "it's just so much flashier & cooler than mine. there's already a rabbit hero!"
"what are you talking about? you do have a cool quirk."
"i'm a bunnygirl. nothing more. people already know what to expect-"
"what is this really about? you brag all the time how you get to come up with new ways to make your quirk yours," he countered, not convinced with your answer. "there's something more, isn't there?"
katsuki was so good at reading people-- at reading you. the other times you've confided in him, your voice lacked clarity, stability. why would it be different now? it wouldn't, that's why.
"yeah, there is," you admitted, tugging on his hands so he'd get closer. "i just don't know how you'll react or how to even say it-"
"it's fine. just tell me, i won't get mad or judge you or whatever," he assured. you began to cry even more, staining his dress shirt.
he smelt so good, i can feel his muscles through his shirt, he's so sexy-
"i need you," you muttered into his chest.
"what was that, baby?"
you glanced up at him, eyes glossy, lips pouted. "i need you."
katsuki's breath hitched, "what are you talking about?" yes, he's had theories about your quirk & its drawbacks. was this it? was his theory correct?
more tears of frustration rolled down your cheeks as you tried to explained, "i have... you know."
his cock stirred, scolding himself mentally for getting hard during a time like this. "have what?" he wanted you to say it, confirm his suspicions.
you took a deep breath. "i have this thing every month or so, & it just makes things so much harder."
"tell me." his stern voice sent shockwaves through you.
it made you obey him automatically, robotically. "i'm going through heat." a silence followed. "it's normal for people with quirks like mine to go through this. i usually have repressants! & i know this probably makes you so uncomfortable; i understand if you don't want to be-"
-- nsfw starts here --
katsuki cut off your rambling, almost offended. "don't ever say that. i want you, all of you."
"p-please don't say such things," you begged him as you felt your pussy throb. "i'm r-really trying to hold back-"
"let me take care of you, princess," katsuki purred, finger tips ghosting over your exposed thighs. he buried his face into the crook of your neck. "do you want this, y/n? because i want you right now. if you tell me you don't want this, i'll stop."
all you could do is nod, your breath turning uneven.
"say it, y/n."
"i need you so bad. please, katsuki," you cried out as you rubbed your legs together.
he smirked into your neck before he started kissing your neck. you couldn't help but whimper. he noticed you holding back, so he bit your neck. he sucked hickeys all over your neck. your unsteady breathes turned into needy moans.
"t-take off my shirt, please-"
katsuki took in your demand by ripping it off your skin as if it were poison. he unhooked your bra, throwing it on the floor. "ah fuck," he groaned, cupping your breasts.
"are they o-okay?"
"you're fuckin' perfect, baby."
with one, he replaced his rough, calloused hand with his mouth. you grinder against his thigh as flicked your nipple with his tongue. "k-katsuki~"
he switched to the other one, giving it the same treatment. "all mine," he growled in between. he nipped at the skin around your nipples. your neck & chest were soon littered with purple marks & bites.
"let me touch you," you begged & you began to fidget with the buttons of his shirt. "take this off~"
"so needy, aren't you, princess," katsuki teased, yet he gave into you. he threw off his shirt, looming over you. goosebumps pricked at your skin, all over your arms down to your legs. you found yourself trailing your hands all over his abs, his muscular arms, around his back. it was like your hands had a mind of their own.
you flipped the two of you around, so now he was under you. "c-can i please mark you?"
he let out a laugh of amusement, making your face turn a deep red. "you don't have to ask, baby," he told you. as a response, you mimicked his actions from earlier. your lips kissed all over his neck, leaving marks in its wake. you trailed down to his chest, then his abs then his v-line until you reached the band of his pants.
the entire time, he was groaning, feeding you praises that shot straight through your core. when you stopped, he looked down at you, & there you were, staring back at him with eager, wide eyes. he could read you so well. "go ahead, y/n. pull them down."
to which you did. you hands hooked both his uniform pants & his boxers. you pulled them down, & your mouth watered when his cock sprung out. "i-it's so big," you moaned; you meant to only think that, but you couldn't help it.
his mushroom tip beaded precum, his veiny shaft twitched in anticipation. "you see how hard i am for you? all for you," katsuki told you, watching your eyes dart to his then back down to his cock.
you started licking him to test the waters. you saw as his eyebrows furrowed together, his mouth agape, narrowed eyes. your licks evolved into you sticking his tip into your mouth. your tongue flicked around his cock. you crossed your eyes & whined when you tasted his precum. thanks to his quirk, it tasted almost sweet, salty, & god, was it addicting.
you bobbed your head up & down his thick rod. the tip hit the back of your throat while spit flooded your mouth. it was hard to breath, but you didn't care. having katsuki inside of you was more important than breathing. "slow down. you're gonna make me cum, good girl."
that was enough inspiration for you. you needed his cum. you forced your head all the way down his cock, your nose buried in his pubes. your eyes watered (for the fifth time today), & you stared into katsuki's eyes. both of his hands tangled themselves into your hair. "i'm gonna fuck that slutty, little throat, okay? just tap if it's too much," he informed, but he had a feeling you were going let him do whatever he wanted.
you moaned as a way to let him know that you heard him. the vibrations quivered his tip. "mmm, fuck. you're doing so good," he praised, jutting his hips forward the drawing them back.
his thrusts at first were small, in fear he was hurting you. however, as he looked down at you, your eyes rolled back, drool spilling out of your mouth, rubbing your aching clit for some sort of release, he couldn't hold back. he started using your throat as a fuck toy.
fast & rough, & all you could do was take it. take it, even though you're crying & it's hard to breath. "i'm close," he uttered out in between moans. his sultry voice turned a pitch higher in a humiliating tease, "you want my cum, baby? huh? c'mon, tell me you want it."
you choked out muffled, "yes please" & "cum down my throat please." he laughed at you trying to form sentences with your mouth stuffed. "such an eager bitch. fine, i'll give you what you want."
he thrusted his hips forwards, keeping your head in place. you face smushed against his hips. his cock twitched as he unloaded spurts of cum down your throat.
he pulled away, & strings of saliva mixed with his semen leaked onto your skirt. you looked back up at him, finding his cock still erect. "you look so surprised," katsuki said as he caught his breath. "i'm still so hard for you. after all, i told you i was going to take care of you."
"p-please have sex with me," you barely even whispered.
"what was that?"
"please-"
"i still can't hear you," katsuki told you, stroking his dick. he really knew how to push your buttons
"please fuck me, katsuki! i need it, i need you so bad~ i need your big cock inside of me," you blurted out. you finally let you stupid, nasty fantasies get the better of you.
judging from katsuki's smug expression, he wanted you to indulge in them. "alright, alright. you've been such a good girl for me. it's the least i could do," he shrugged before flipping you over so you were trapped under him. even in your most intimate moments, he was cocky. & god, did it make your pussy wet.
as he started to pull your skirt down, your hands shot to grab his wrists. "no, fuck me now, i can't wait. it hurts too bad," you whined, your glossy lips pouting.
"of course, princess," he said with a smirk. "whatever you want." katsuki's fingers dove under your skirt to push your panties out of the way. he held your legs up, placing your calves over his shoulders.
he lubed the tip of his dick with your juices by running it through your folds. "you're so wet for me, good girl."
"it's all for you, katsuki~" you purred, anticipation practically killing you. you felt pride as he turned his head to kiss the meat of your calf in approval.
"can't let it go to waste," he told you. he lined his thick, heavy cock with your entrance. something must've taken over you because, the moment it lined up with your hole, you shoved your hips forward with your entire body.
you let out a squeal of pleasure, your pussy stretching to accommodate for katsuki's lengthy cock. "shit, baby, you almost knocked me over," he chuckled as he readjusted. both of his hands were on your hips.
"shut up & fuck me," you growled at him. his cock twitched, brow raised in amusement.
"yes ma'am," he replied, "but remember you said that." from the get-go, his thrusts were powerful, immediately finding the cervix. your nails dug into his biceps down to his wrists. moans, whimpers, & screams spilled out of your lips.
katsuki took his fingers to your mouth & demanded in a low voice, "suck."
the action made you quiet down. he found your g-spot soon after, & you felt lightheaded. with his fingers down your throat, his cock abusing your most sensitive spot, & katsuki whispering dirty nothings into your ears, you shut your eyes & released all the tension building up.
"f-f-fuck, i-i'm cumming, katsuki," you rasped, voice having a small lisp thanks to his fingers. you squirted all over his abdomen, breath heavy & uneven.
he didn't stop though. he still rammed his big fuckin' dick in & out of you, not letting you calm down from your euphoric high. in fact, his hand that you slobbered all over found their way to your clit. he drew small circles around it. "ah, katsuki!" you moaned. "it's too much!"
"you'll be a good girl, & take it, won't you? i haven't cum inside you yet," he responded while his other hand pinched your nipples.
"i-i-i'll be a good girl, katsuki~" you slurred, speaking on beat with his thrusts. he made you cum three more times then you felt as his hips became more robotic, shorter, uncalculated.
"i'm cumming," he groaned through gritted teeth. "i'm cumming. fuckin' take all of it." thick jets of hot, white cum stained your walls. his dick pulsated inside of you. you came again; who could blame you?
he took a few deep breaths, collapsing on top of you as he pulled out of your pussy. cum spilled out of you & onto his sheets. he embraced you, whispering, "round two?"
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goldenlikedayl1ght · 2 months
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logan howlett blurb 18+
hi hi im sorry guys this isnt awesome but i love my wolverine and maybe ill make a part two or perhaps something cool like that if ya like it! also just general warning for smut and some kinky age gap stuff! also. reader is fem and a mutant! word count: 1030 edit: you can now read a full version of this blurb here!
You are absolutely enthralled with him. It’s actually sort of pathetic how your fingers twitch at the sight of him, at how the mention of his name or god forbid the sound of his voice makes your head snap up, attention deficit disorders be damned!
Funnily enough, you had no damn interest in Xavier’s stupid mutant school, because to you, you’re not an outsider because of your mutant abilities (that don’t have much of a physical apparition, at least one that you can’t hide) but because there’s never been much of a place for you to fit in.
But, you were behind on rent and of course, you fucking hate your job, so why not? You’d be able to be slightly less of a freak, and you’d get free room and board in the process! (Where Charles gets all of his money, you do not know.)
And because you’re a little older, Charles doesn’t force you to sit in a class room to learn about basic arithmetic and grammar lessons, so you really only do some training around three times a day, you have your own room (with a dusty box under the other bed, you also suspect your room used to be the ‘sex’ room) and you have the weekends off.
So for a twenty something year old with few ambitions, the social skills of a Martian with autism, and a huge crush on every older emotionally unavailable man you meet, it’s a pretty good set-up.
You’re waiting for time to pass in the garden, just reading a rather interesting book that Charles had recommended after he noticed you needed something to pass time before you started making bad decisions.
You hear his heavy footsteps on the gravel before you see him. Your heart beats faster, but you will yourself, do everything in your power not to glance up at him. And you let out a breath as you succeed, keeping your head down.
“In your natural habitat, are you, spitfire?” Your head darts up to him—There’s no way he isn’t talking to you, you know you’re the only one in this garden. And you can see his lips twitch up and you want to crawl out of your skin!
“My-My natural habitat?” You laugh, closing the book you’re reading because your attention is locked to him now.
“Yeah, seems like it.” He saunters on up to you and sits on the bench next to you.
And let’s make something very clear—
Logan Howlett does not sit.
This man poses, as if there’s always some invisible camera capturing every frame of movement, from the way his legs spread out, to the way his chest lifts when he inhales.
Fuck, you think you might die if you can’t suck him off right now.
“And what exactly is my uh.. habitat?” You question.
He takes out his lighter and a cigar, placing the cigar in his mouth as he gestures to the space around the two of you, lighter in hand.
“A garden.” He says, matter of facility, as his voice is muffled only the slightest bit by the cigar.
And you just sort of look at him before asking,
“Oh, you enjoy being boiled down to your mutations, Claws?” You question, and as he goes to light the cigar, he smirks.
“Alright, you gotta admit though, it is cliché!”
You are absolutely in agreement, there is zero doubt you are as much of a walking, breathing, real life living, stereotype.
“It is not!” And the pair of you give each other this look, like you’re both shocked at how whiney that statement is!
“Uh-huh, sure, Spitfire.” It sounds almost like he’s purring at you.
When he lights his cigar, he’s sort of eying you for your reaction, whatever you might say.
“You know, smoking is not only bad for you, it’s awful for the environment.”
“You’re probably the most cliché little freak around here.” Which.. honestly..? Shouldn’t possibly turn you on as much as it does.
You just stare at him for a minute, and he smirks.
“Cat got your tongue?’
And maybe it’s stupid and maybe it’s immature but your hand just comes over to fiddle with the pointed part of his hair.
“We’ll you certainly look the part.” He just looks at you, and honestly? The way he’s looking at you, it’s like he’s proud of you for teasing him.
“Aw, there’s my little spitfire,” He teases, just to see how red you get. And red you are— it’s embarrassing. And here’s the kicker—You are young. Exceptionally young, and what’s insane about that? How horny it makes both you and Logan.
The idea of fucking your innocent cunt, tight and all his, drives him genuinely mad. And you are, quite literally, a whore for the idea of riding this older man’s dick. You know he’s big—sometimes you see the outerline of it when he walks away from you all huffy and puffy.
“You’re a tease, Claws.” You respond, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Says you,” he raises and eyebrow, leaning closer to you now, “You’re the one laying around in the sun, looking like that.”
“Looking like this?” You scoff. You’re wearing a muscle tee and a pair of ripped jeans, but the gaps are huge and he can see your thighs. He wants to devour you, and you would let him if he only asked.
And let’s be clear—he is fucking you with his eyes. There’s no way to go around it.
“I think you’re just.. horny.” You tease, and he just growls. Seriously, this man who is undressing you with his eyes, growls, because he does want you and he is horny!
“I think you’re onto something.” He purrs, and you want to just.. god. You don’t know how to express the pit of desire that grows in you. “I would fuck you until you couldn’t think, right here among your pretty flowers. Would you like that, baby?” he asks, his hand finding your thigh.
But you just cough on the smoke from his cigar, before frowning.
“You really shouldn’t smoke.”
"Aw, I'll make it up to you," he smirks, "Promise, spitfire."
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marksbear2 · 1 month
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Hii you’re deadpool and wolverine fic are awesome!! I’ve been reading your work for awhile and every time i read your work it’s just WOW but i was wondering if you can write another deadpool and wolverine fic? Just watched the movie and they make me BARK
😓 IM TIRED of everyone watching the movie but me. Don’t get me started on twitter and how everyone’s tweaking over my man hugh 😣.
DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE X MALE READER
⚠️Warnings- fluff, angst, smut— no spoilers included, all three of you are switches, edging, blood, death mentioned at the end and more.⚠️
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— Both men laying on beside you on your left and right. Wade will be jerking off your cock whispering dirty jokes into your ear while Logan will be fingering your hole while breathing deep grunts and soft encouraging praises.
— The two would be mid argument, ready to be at each others throats while your literally getting face fucked by Logan and Wade will be behind you fucking you.
— Wade and you roleplaying, you’ll play as him as Deadpool wearing his suit and mask and all while he’s wearing Logan’s suit. He’ll be moaning “Wolverine” and “Logan.” While occasionally the slip of your actual name causing you two to giggle and break character.
— Logan walking in seeing you and Wade trying out new kinks like lingeries or more kinky shit like bdsm.
— If it’s Logan’s turn to bottom Wade will be teasing and cracking jokes the whole time taunting him to get him riled up.
— Logan and Wade sharing your cum in their mouths. After they’re done sharing your cock they’ll start to passionately makeout.
— Wade recording or taking pictures during sex. Even using a Polaroid on special occasions and he has some of his favorite pictures in his wallet.
— Logan will be fucking you relentlessly for hours to blow off his anger and stress.
— While they’ll be sharing your cock, their tongues will sometimes move against one another before sharing a kiss and back to sucking your cock.
— Watching the two have the most bloodiest sex ever watching them hit and hurt each other just for their body to regenerate.
— Wade will be like a dog in heat always humping and grinding his ass into you or Logan’s crotch.
— You going back and forth on their cocks sucking and deepthroating them Logan pulling and tugging on your hair while Wade is praising and making jokes.
— Logan walking in seeing you and Wade wearing dresses while your fucking him. Wade’s legs will be in the air speared apart while he is also wearing heels.
— Wade being very open on wanting to take you and Logan’s cock in the same time. He’s the one who’s trying to convince you two do it to him.
— You and Wade being in love with Wade’s scent.
— You and Logan shotgunning the smoke from the cigar while when Wade wants to try he lowkey starts dying coughing hard and shit.
— Whenever you are fucking either one of them the other one would start kissing or making out with you trying to distract you from the other.
— Logan having cum leak out from his used hole while Wade laid on the side of him getting fucked by you two. You’ll be taking turns using them like your own personal fleshlights.
— You and Wade watching Logan scratch onto things like the bed or sheets.
— Wade and Logan edging you together while they argue. They’ll be jerking off your cock and stuff and you’ll be whimpering and moaning the whole time until you actually cum all over their hands and yourself.
— You being in the middle as they both cuddle and hug you from the side. Occasionally Wade or Logan will take your place from being in the middle.
— Wade will be the one to distract either you or Logan with praises and jokes while the either of you would be cleaning.
— Seeing you fuck Wade so merciless and rough before eventually fucking him next, makes Logan go feral and insane.
(A few bits of angst now.)
— They both will outlive you. Though Logan isn’t immortal his lifespan is still greatly longer than yours.
— Both of them watching you die, and either cannot accept the fact that they can’t help or stop it from happening.
— Logan’s and Wade’s relationship weakens a whole lot after your death. They’ll be arguing even more and blaming one another for your death.
— Logan accidentally not retracting his claws and them stabbing through your stomach slowly, and very painfully killing you.
— Wade trying to use laughter and humor as an way to cope trying to mask that he’s okay but Logan sees right through it.
— Both men blaming themselves for your death.
— When all three of you break up it really damaged all three of you. Logan and Wade will be doing his best to move on.
— Your death really reminds the two of them that nothing last forever.
THE END
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catiuskaa · 3 months
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your type
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SUMMARY: It doesn’t matter how pretty you are, because, Jeongin’s been working in that cafe long enough to notice as soon as you walked in: he knows your type.
WC: 1.5k
CW: silly kind of enemies2lovers, except ‘enemies’ is just Jeongin being dramatic for a bit. It’s fluffy but also a smol tiny bit suggestive too tho. (reader being really hot kinda deal) teehee. (Also, heads up for fem!reader.)
[🔅☆☕️☆🔅]
God, no.
He clenched his fists under the counter, his eyes glued to your figure.
Jeongin shrieked in his place. No way. Why him? He groaned lowly, blinking slowly, trying to process and calm down beforehand, yet he still squinted towards the small bell above the coffee shop’s door, almost as if he could’ve blamed it for the impending dread horror he was about to face.
The smell of toasted coffee beans was almost not strong enough to cover that of your perfume as said bell announced your entrance, and it was then when he knew. Jeongin had covered enough morning shifts and worked several —if not more— evening shifts to know your type.
Pretty.
Disgustingly pretty.
So, so pretty.
Pretty hair, pretty legs, pretty nails, pretty, pretty, pretty. He held back the need to roll his eyes, your tone of voice still able to make itself heard even if the slightly crowded coffee shop was brimming with many other conversations, there it be the small child that blabbered to herself, giggling as she played with some small cars her mother had given her, or said woman, who also played with the colourful toys from time to time, while managing something on her laptop. Jeongin liked her very much. She tipped nicely.
Still, he couldn’t help but grimmace when he noticed your frown as you approached the counter, phone in hand, glued to your ear. Now, could it be that he was maybe being a bit too dramatic? Well, why, of course. His shared shifts were with Hyunjin, after all. Who, to make matters worse, was running late. Again.
“No. And I’m hanging up.” You stated towards whoever was unlucky enough to be at the other end of the call. “No- Jisung, kindly, I don’t give a fuck. If the big man says he’s not gonna pay me, I ain’t doing nothing. I am not some goody-two-shoes he can mess with.”
Your hushed voice still had the classic tone of anger he was familiar with. But Jeongin’s gaze towards you changed, almost reluctantly so, had anyone asked him. He had to hold back his eyebrows from shotting up when even if you were scoffing, still on the phone, arguing with that Jisung man on the other side, you still smiled widely at him, a grin that, had it been somewhere else, it would’ve certainly got you his attention.
But, he had to remain focused. To think, use the head that’s above your shoulders, Jeongin, he told himself. He couldn’t get sidetracked, or else you’d catch him in your spell.
Which wasn’t going to happen, because he knew your type.
Or so he thought.
He noticed an elderly woman waiting behind you, who was obviously not ready to place an order. Ah, there it was. Now you were finally going to turn off that charming attraction of yours, by—
“Oh, please,” You muttered lowly to the woman, a kind, adorable, toothy grin as you moved away from the queue. “I’ll be fine, really.”
Jeongin’s eyes trailed to you as he prepared the brownie the woman had asked for. He couldn’t believe his eyes when you smiled at him, —ouch—, a grin weirdly apologetic, which took him by surprise as you tucked a troublesome strand of your bangs behind your ear repeatedly. Disgustingly cute —yeouch— and without causing a total connundrum over nothing.
Ok. Sure. Yeah. That was totally out of character. But, no, Jeongin didn’t mind. Not at all. Definetely not. Not if you kept smiling at him like that.
“Listen, Ji." Jeongin almost flinched. He felt so lucky for not being the one being scolded by you. "The album is awesome, dude, but I ain’t touching it without being paid. We’re friends, and I love you to death, but if you call me again to make me work without a contract, I am killing you.”
Oh. Well. Jeongin may have not blushed due to your words, but certainly blushed at the way you smiled at him —again, not helpful with his situation—, but also the way you passed a hand through your hair. Ah, fuck.
He had been caught in your spell, hadn’t he?
No. No, no, no. He cursed in his head. Sure, femenine rage was hot. You were hot. Very. But, by all means, this wasn’t something he could indulge in, because—
“Um.” You snickered. “Sorry I was on the phone. Can I… er… may I order now?”
Because… um… what was the reason again?
“O-of course.” He heard himself speak, his voice sounding strange, as if it hadn’t came out of his mouth. He smiled, a bit awkwardly, indeed, but a smile nontheless. It got better when you matched it, chuckling lowly.
“It’s fine. Really. Sorry, again. I can see you’re busy, so by all means take your time.” You grinned, a smile with matching levels of innocence and cheekiness. Damn, he was already that down bad? “Could I have an espresso machiato?”
Espresso. Espresso. Not only you pronounced it right, which made the small barista inside him started to glow and shake Jeongin’s heart, that had started to beat like crazy, but the mere sound of your voice had the young man whipped.
“You're fine." Very fine indeed. "No worries at all." He nodded politely, feeling his cheeks grow red.
He started to note the order on the machine in front of him. Easy enough thing to do. Just tap here, there and… eh… um…
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He muttered, frowning.
“I, uh, is everything the matter?” You blinked, your expression showcasing a small yet sincere amount of worry.
So odd. So out of character. So, so, so cute, his heart screamed.
“This machine is just the worst.” He gulped apologetically. “Does whatever it wants, really.”
A line started to form behind you, and Jeongin panicked. Why him? Fuck, shit, fuck. That was it. Jeongin was so getting fired after this—
“Do you mind if I step in?”
Jeongin’s eyes almost got lost in yours as his gaze locked on you.
“I don’t think I can…”
“I’ll wait for my coffe, and I’ll fix your machine. Promise. I know how these work.”
The head above your shoulders, Jeongin.
"I think Hyun- um, my coworker knows how to fix it. He should be here in no time..."
"Oh, please. Just let the girl fix it." A customer groaned behind you.
"Actually, I'm still in the wrong. Don't push it, sir." You argued with a smile, shocking both the man and Jeongin, who now saw a sort of halo surrounding your figure.
“I, uh… good luck, I guess.” He sighed, shrugging and letting you behind the counter.
Oh, he was so getting fired. Letting a client step in behind the counter? Nevermind how good she smelled, how cute and hot she looked or how pretty her smile was. You rolled up your sleeves, and he almost thought he had seen traces of ink. Oh boy. He was going to get in so much trouble, in about two sec—
The machine dinged funnily, and you smiled.
“Fixed!” You sighed cheekily. “A reboot and a shake still works just fine.” Jeongin blinked, puzzled. “Guess I gotta speak with Chan and Hyunjin.” You giggled. “Thought I had taught them better.”
...
“H-huh?”
Your smile got bigger, as you chuckled again.
Oh.
Dimples.
“Didn’t they tell you?” You smiled again, taking a hair clip from your purse, swiftly tying your hair up. “I opened the cafe with them a bunch of years ago. Chan owned the building, Hyunjin had the style, and I was the coffee enthusiast.” The way you beamed had him hooked.
The both of you seamlessly got to work together, making coffes and taking orders and serving. It wasn't rush hour, by any means, so Jeongin quickly started up your order, apologizing lightly, a blush on his face.
"I really appreciate it, though." He grinned sheepishly. "Here you go, noona."
You tried to get out your wallet, but jeongin's body worked faster than his head, only able to settle his hand over yours.
It was as if a shiver overwhelmed his whole body just because of that simple touch. A system reboot.
"It's on the house." he smiled, trying to play it off and calm the fuck down. "You saved me back there. I owe you that much."
Then the bell rang again.
"Hey, Innie, sorry I was late, I was walking my fish..." Hyunjin blabbered nonchalantly, unbothered, looking at his phone until he got behind the counter. He stared at you, then smiled widely. "Noona!"
Surprisingly to Jeongin, you didn't match his welcoming. Instead you scoffed. "No. I have to walk my fish, you see." You clicked your tongue, and Jeongin couldn't help but laugh at his mate. "Actually, I think you're fine on your own for the rest of the shift. We'll go watch your fish."
Jeongin had been too busy laughing to mentally prepare, and blushed furiously when you grabbed and linked your hand with his, giddily taking him to one of the free tables.
"I don't think I should go walk fishes still in my shift." Jeongin joked lightly, still flustered.
Your hand left his, and strangely to him, the action felt almost reluctant.
"Maybe we can chat over some coffee, then?"
Jeongin smiled.
"I'd love that."
He thought he had known your type, almost as gorgeous as annoying. Which didn't came as a surprise was how happy he was to be wrong.
[🔅☆☕️☆🔅]
kats, who has to confess she hates coffee with a passion.
catiuskaa, july 2024 ©
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needle-noggins · 1 year
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(CW for SA, suicidal ideation) Here we go. My favorite and simultaneously least favorite panel of Vash and Knives.
I've seen a few interpretations of this scene and before we dive into the one that really struck me, let's start with the more... chill one. We're finally introduced to the third gun of Trigun, Vash's angel arm. And the way we're introduced to it involves Knives forcing him to pull the trigger. Of course, since no one knows anything about Knives, the people of Noman's Land blame Vash for Fifth Moon, and Vash likewise blames himself (this is kinda a spoiler but if you've been paying attention, it's just par for the course). However, he's not the one who pulled the trigger, Knives is. It brings up an interesting moral question of blame - do we blame the gun (and Vash, who is being used/objectified as a weapon here), or the person who wanted it to happen? Guns don't kill people, genocidal twins do!
Now for the awful interpretation, the one that makes me cry and wish Vash was real so I could hug him and pay for his therapy. And really highlights how awful Knives is and how far he'd go for his brother in his own, fucked-up way. I touched on this in a previous post about Legato and the Murder Cafe, and the whole time I was thinking about Fifth Moon but didn't want to say anything for the sake of spoilers.
So. Pay attention to the way Vash and Knives are standing. Knives, when he first grabbed Vash's head, was standing in front of him. He moves behind him to better control him and yeah, he's still controlling him via hand on head, and now he's got his other hand gripping Vash's chest, where feathers/wings are manifesting. Knives is assaulting him. If you wanna get crazy with it and say that the angel arm is kinda phallic, you could say... yeah. This is rape. I heard that specific interpretation once and while I accepted it I also don't know if that would be generally accepted or if I'd be called out for it, so I'm trying to tread lightly here.
It also doesn't escape me that of course the angel arm has feminine features like the plants - the plants that, again, humans are exploiting for their ability to create. There's a lot of feminist commentary to be made here but many people have said it better than me. Specifically I'm thinking of this one post I saw about gender fuckery and Tristamp Vash. Anyway.
Also, the atomic bomb/black hole/sun/whatever that is in the middle... It's just so powerful. It's terrifying. The eldritch body horror here is a punch to the gut. What the fuck, Trigun? I thought this was a funky space western!!!
Oh, and here's more commentary on the following few panels:
Vashussy shot, Knives is still right behind him. Yeah, I wasn't kidding about how bad this pose is for them. Knives, you sick fuck.
Vash shoots himself in the leg (a key difference from '98 trigun, lol), because of course he does, but it doesn't free him from the arm.
The arm's getting darker/the light inside is getting lighter! Stampede did an awesome job with their interpretation of the angel arm and I don't think I would have understood it without that. Also, on my first read I didn't notice that Vash is literally levitating, which is cool, but also terrifying because ?? he's not in control of that either??
Finally. A super painful, minimalist, double-page spread. Nightow loves 'em. Vash thinks he's dying (maybe?) and he wishes he had never existed. It's not suicidal ideation per se, but he wishes he didn't exist at all because he's already caused enough suffering. This is a low for him, because he believes so strongly in the concept of the Blank Ticket. (Come on, soupy brain bitch boy, get it together!) He's a monster, it's just how he was born, and he's not in control. Very specifically too, he says "we", and then changes it to "I"... he doesn't blame Knives at all, and that's very him. I want to shake him! Stop playing the martyr, Vash!
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forwhomthewordsflow · 2 months
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The Start of Something New
modern music teacher eddie munson x art teacher fem reader
18+ ONLY MDNI
warnings: just fluff…lotsa fluff
author’s note: i’m still new to this whole author thing so please be gentle!!!  also, i’d totally be into making this a series if you guys are into that…
word count: 3.4k
If you had asked him five years ago if he thought he’d ever set foot back into this shithole ever again, under any circumstances, Eddie would’ve told you to fuck right off.  But alas, here he was, grading papers in his classroom during his grading period.  Yes, that’s right folks.  Eddie Munson – resident town freak – is now a proud music teacher at Hawkins High School.  Who would’ve thought?  Certainly not Eddie.  Or anyone else for that matter.  But apparently all it took was a mandatory Music History 101 class that he was forced to take in community college, and he was hooked.  Eddie tried as hard as he could to hate the class, but he couldn’t help the fact that he had a natural gift for the subject.  Begrudgingly, Eddie Munson earned his first A+ ever, and an invitation to join the class for another semester as a TA.  He couldn’t believe it, but he said yes.  And so began the long and surprisingly painless journey of a town freak turned teacher.  
Eddie still sometimes wonders how he ended up here.  He recalls his days of detention and lunch-time table speeches like it was yesterday, wishing he could walk right out of class and never come back.  But, he figures that if he has the chance to be the teacher that he never had for another kid just like he used to be, then he should probably fucking take it.  The job isn’t necessarily all bad.  Sure, the pay isn’t great and dealing with parents can be a bit of a shitshow, but Eddie still manages to find himself having fun while he’s at work.  The kids he teaches are pretty damn awesome, and he honestly really likes spending his days hanging out with them and teaching them about music.  But even after all the great students and the sweet vacation time he gets each year, his most favorite part about his job is you.
You, the brand new, drop-dead gorgeous art teacher here at Hawkins High.  Eddie couldn’t believe his luck when he met you towards the end of July during orientation.  He likes to think he has an above-average amount of game when it comes to women, but it’s as though every ounce of cool-ness was sucked out of his body as soon as he entered into your vicinity.  Eddie cringes as he thinks back to your very first meeting, where he opened up with a very smooth, “So…you come here often?”
And even though that moment plays on a continuous “you suck” reel in his mind, your sweet, shy giggle that came afterwards makes it all worth it.  He still remembers the blush on your cheeks, the smell of your perfume, and the sparkles on the inner corners of your eyes that made it damn near impossible for him to look away.  You had been kind to Eddie that day, willing to look past his stupid idiot boy self and explain to him that it was your first day on the job and that you had moved here from the city.  Eddie had managed to ramble out a few more mismatched words to you as he was staring at your pretty smile and the smattering of freckles on your nose before he was rudely interrupted by the beginning of orientation.  Eddie didn’t see much of you after that until right before the start of the school year, when teachers have a week or two to say goodbye to summer and set up their classrooms before the first day of school.  He had just finished putting his records back up on display when he figured it was time for a little break.  He meandered down the halls under the guise of stretching his legs, when really he was just trying to see which classroom the new, beautiful art teacher was given.  And of course, because the universe apparently has it out for him, he found you on the complete opposite side of the school from him.  Eddie smiled at the way you had decorated your door, made to look like an artist’s palette.  He wondered if you’d made each individual part by hand, and how long it had taken you to piece each one together on your door.  The idea that he’d probably rarely ever cross paths with you throughout the year is what led to his face back and forth pacing in the hallway while he thought of a plan.  You’d think that they’d put the art teacher a bit closer to the music teacher as they were both considered “electives,” but fate has a nasty way of fucking things up for Eddie.  Nevertheless,  Eddie was determined to find ways to bump into you.   He was on a mission for a first impression do-over, this time featuring cool-sexy-funny Eddie instead of the awkward and embarrassing version of himself that you met during orientation.  He was going through his mental stash of one-liners to open up with, and unfortunately, was not paying attention to where he was walking.  Just as Eddie went to turn around and continue on with his hurried pacing, he bumped into someone…hard.  He heard a squeak, a splash, and a gasp as his brain tried to catch up with what his eyes were seeing.  There you were, so beautiful, so angelic, so…wet?  Eddie steps back in horror as he realizes that his clumsiness has resulted in you spilling what looks like paint water all down the front of your shirt.  
“Oh no!  Oh shit, I- I’m so sorry!  I wasn’t even looking where I was going – shit, fuck – I’m so fucking sorry holy shit –” Eddie rambled on in a panic induced frenzy while you stared up at him in shock, clutching the now empty water cup in your hand.  Eddie stilled as he felt your other hand graze his arm – holyfuckingshit you’re touching him!!! – in an attempt to calm him down.
“Eddie!  I promise, it’s totally okay!”  You laughed as you said this, and Eddie felt his eyes turn into giant red hearts like they do in the cartoons.  “If I freaked out every time I spilled something on myself during a project, they’d have sent me to the nuthouse a long time ago.”  Your eyes widened as you realized that might’ve been a weird thing to say to this gorgeous man that you don’t know that well, but his deep chuckle calms you down immediately.  You both stare at each other grinning like fools for a few moments before the icky feeling of a sopping wet shirt gets to you.  You bend down to pick up the few paint brushes that had scattered on the ground, and Eddie quickly gets down onto one knee to help you.  
“I uh, I’m really sorry again about this.  I’m usually much cooler than this, I swear.”  Eddie mentally punches himself in the dick for saying such a dumb thing.  Why can’t he just operate like a normal fucking person right now?  To his surprise, your adorable giggle graces his ears.
“I swear it’s really okay.  I have an extra shirt in my classroom.”
At the mention of your shirt, Eddie can’t help but to sneak a peek at your body through your sopping wet t-shirt.  He can just barely make out the tops of your collarbone, the outline of your tank top, the curve of your breast–
Eddie’s impure thoughts are interrupted by you standing back up and pulling at your wet shirt.  
“Well, I’d better get back to it then I guess.”  You look at him with a different look in your eye than what it was moments ago.  It almost looked like you were waiting on him to say something. Did you want him to come with you to your classroom?  Apparently he spends too long contemplating your desires because you give him a small smile and start to turn back towards your room.  Eddie manages to buck up and find his inner cool-guy just in time.
“D-Do you need any help with anything?”  You turn back around with a smile on your face, happy that he finally said something.  “I’m known to be pretty handy, if you need any help hanging things up, building shelves…anything at all, I’m pretty good with my hands.  It’s the least I can do.”
Eddie’s grin makes you clench your thighs a little, you hope he doesn’t notice.  Even if you tried to speak, you’re not sure any words would come out, so you nod your head and try to fight the blush that’s blooming on your face.  Eddie spots it of course, he thinks it’s adorable.  You jerk your head over your shoulder, telling him to follow you, and start back to your classroom.
Eddie can’t help but to bust out a few celebratory fist pumps as he trails behind you.
Stepping into your classroom felt a lot like stepping into a different world.  Eddie felt his jaw drop as he looked up and around the room at all the colorful signs and decorations you had put up everywhere.  There were wooden shelves lined with more art supplies than Eddie had ever seen in his life, various paintings in different mediums hung up around the room, and a large carpet in the middle of the room that looked like someone had splattered paint all over it.  After he was done taking in the wonder of the room, Eddie’s eyes landed on you standing by your desk.  You watched him look around at all your hard work, and you really hoped that he liked it.  You hoped he didn’t think you had overdone it or that you were trying way too hard.
“So, what do you think?” You ask nervously.
“What do I think?” Eddie responds, “I think that I would’ve killed for a classroom like this when I was in highschool.  This is the coolest fucking thing ever.”
Eddie thinks your beaming smile could light up an entire town.  
You look down, blushing hard.  “Thank you, Eddie.”
Eddie loves the way his name sounds coming out of your mouth.
You begin to pull at your shirt a bit, the wet material making you more and more uncomfortable by the second.  The cups in your hand clink together as you fumble them around, and Eddie rushes to help you.
“Here, let me help with those.”  
You look up at Eddie with wide eyes, and notice he was standing quite close to you.  His big brown eyes had tiny flecks of a caramel color in them, and his lips were pulled into a soft smile.  God, you hope he didn’t notice you were looking at his lips.  
(He totally did.)
“Oh, th-thanks.”  You awkwardly dump the cups and paint brushes into Eddie’s waiting hands as he chuckles quietly.  Pulling your shirt away from your body with both hands now, you spare a glance to the closet near your desk in the back corner of your classroom.  “I’m just going to change into a new shirt really quick.”
Eddie blushes at the thought of seeing your bare skin.  “Oh, do you want me to like, turn around o-or I can totally leave if you wanted –”
“No you’re fine, I’m wearing a tank under this.”  You shoot him a small smile over your shoulder and turn to open up the double doors of the closet.  
Eddie wonders if you hear his breath hitch while he prepares himself to see you in a tank top.  
Inside the closet, Eddie can see jars of wrapped candies, some clothes hanging on a short rod, various school supplies, and a few blankets folded near the bottom.  He thinks it’s so adorable how organized you seem to be, and wonders if it’s like that inside your home.  He’s ripped away from his thoughts when you peel your wet top up and over your body, revealing a white ribbed tank top underneath.  Eddie feels his heart pounding inside of his chest as he takes you in.  The skin tight material of your tank top, the curve of your waist, your beautiful bare shoulders.  When you turn around, Eddie’s condition intensifies.  He feels his jeans get tighter at the sight of your round breasts, and the water that spilled onto your shirt must have soaked through a bit, because Eddie can just barely make out the lines of a beige colored bra underneath.  Eddie suddenly coughs loudly and looks up to the ceiling, mentally scolding himself for being such a horn dog.
Of course, you had already seen Eddie ogling your chest, and you couldn’t help but to feel a little flattered and hide your smug grin as you pulled your new, dry t-shirt over your head.  “There we go, good as new!”
Eddie took this as his cue to stop observing the tiny divots in your ceiling tiles.  You had put on an oversized green t-shirt, and you looked absolutely adorable in it.  Eddie wondered what you’d look like in one of his shirts…
“If you want, you can set those right on that empty shelf over there.”  You point to his left at one of the shelves lining the wall.  Eddie looks confused for a moment until he remembers he’s holding your cups and paintbrushes.  He walks over to the shelf and places the items very carefully next to the other cups, turning back around to face you afterwards.  You wring your hands together in front of you, struggling to meet his eyes.  Why is this so hard?  He’s just a guy.  A very hot guy with cool tattoos, pretty hair, a dangerous smile…
Eddie tries his hardest to find a reason to hang around in your classroom with you a little longer, he can’t blow this, not when he still has so much to learn about you.
“So, why all the lamps?”  Eddie begins to wander around your room, stopping to look at each of the light fixtures you’ve placed throughout the space.  You wonder if he’s making fun of you, but the genuine interest on his face says differently.  
“Oh, um, I sort of hate big lights.”
“Big lights?”  Eddie turns to you with a grin and a soft chuckle.  “What are big lights?”
You point up at the LEDs lining your ceiling.  He looks up with you and realizes what you mean by ‘big lights’.  
“Oh,” Eddie laughs ,”Big light.  I get it now.” He takes a step closer to you and notices your chest rising and falling a bit quicker.  You don’t hold eye contact for more than a few seconds before finding something to look at on one of your walls, Eddie thinks it’s adorable how shy you are right now.  “I’ve always hated how…clinical they make everything look sometimes.”
“I know right?”  Your small outburst surprises Eddie a bit, you’re looking him in the eyes now and he’s thinking you might not be as shy as he guessed.  He’s also thinking about how goddamn beautiful your eyes are, and that he might have found his new favorite color.  “I mean, I know I’ll have to turn them on for at least one or two art projects during the year, but I just feel like the softer lights make it look a lot more inviting in here, right?”  Eddie nods along and can’t help but smile at how cute you are when you’re a little fired up like this.  “And I’ve just read so many articles about how the harsh LED’s make it harder to focus sometimes for the kids, and some even said it can actually make them more nervous!  Well, no way, not in my classroom.”
You huff and look at the ground, realizing that you might’ve been doing a little too much just now.    
“Sorry.  I get really passionate about the kids sometimes.”
“Hey, no way.”  Eddie takes a step closer until he’s looking down at you.  “I really like how obvious it is that you care so much.  Some of the teachers around here seem like they couldn’t give two shits about their students.  That, or they’re too goddamn old to remember how.”
A giggle bursts out of your mouth, and Eddie wishes you wouldn’t have covered your smile with your hand.  He might just have to make it his life’s mission to get you to smile and giggle more.  
“Seriously though, these are super cool lights in here.  The kids will love them.”
“Really?  You think so?”  You look up at him anxiously.  It’s clear to him that you’re genuinely worried about your students not liking you or your classroom, and he wishes he could take all of that anxiety off your shoulders.  If he knows anything from years of working here,  he knows the kids will love you.  
“Yes, I do.” Eddie places a hand on your shoulder.  “The kids are gonna freak out, your room is the best one in this place by far.”  You smile up at him and he smiles back.  He realizes that he’s touching you and pulls his hand back before he can think too much about it.  He takes a step back and plucks a curl from his mane of hair to mess with, a nervous habit of his.  Eddie racks his brain for an excuse to stay with you longer.  He still has so much to learn about you!  He wants to know your favorite color, if you listen to rock, who your favorite artist is…he needs to use his big dumb brain and think of something quickly before the lull in your conversation teeters into the realm of awkward.  Suddenly, he’s hit with a stroke of genius.
“You know…” You look back up at him with a smile.  You’d been hoping to God that he’d say something else to keep your conversation going.  “I’ve actually been looking to spice up my one classroom a little bit.”  He looks down on you with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.
“Is that so?”
“Oh, yes.  Definitely.  I think you may be just the right person to help me, seeing as your room is decorated to perfection.”  You giggle and swat your hand in front of you in an “oh, stop it” motion. 
 “How may I be of service?”  You look up at him, batting your long lashes with your hands clasped behind your back.  Eddie gulps and tries like hell not to let his mind wander too far.
“I – uh, have recently learned a few things about the evil and illusive ‘big light’,” Eddie makes air quotes around the word ‘big light’ and you giggle at how dramatic and silly he’s being, “and I find myself suddenly in need of some lamps of various shapes and sizes, similar to the ones that are displayed in this lovely room.”  He makes a sweeping gesture with his  muscular arm towards your lamps.  Amping up the drama with you might’ve been a risk, but Eddie decides it’s paid off in full when he notices you trying, and failing, to hold back your laugh.  
“I think I may be able to help with that.”  You sigh and tap at your jaw in a thoughtful way.  “You know, I got most of these at IKEA if you’re really in the market for some.  At a fairly good price too.”
Eddie nods at this new information.
You take a tiny step closer to and look up at him through your lashes.  Eddie struggles to breathe, you smell so good and you look so pretty and he really should be focusing on what you’re saying but he can’t get over how gorgeous you are  –
“You might need some help finding them in there though…IKEA is huge and you wouldn’t want to get lost in there.”  Are you implying what he thinks you’re implying?  “I could…go with you maybe.  Help you pick out a few new lamps for your room.”
Eddie is speechless.  You just asked him to hangout?  Outside of school?  Eddie must look like a fucking idiot as he struggles to speak, and you mistake this for hesitation. 
“Or–or not, if that’s not something you’d be into.  I totally get it if you want to keep things professional and not meetup outside of work–”
Eddie interrupts your nervous rambling quickly.  “No, no!  Are you kidding?  I’d love to IKEA with you!   I – I mean, go to IKEA.  I’d love to go to IKEA with you.  Whenever you want, I’m free whenever you want.”
You let out a big breath and smile at the blush that’s blooming on Eddie’s cheeks.  The two of you stand there in your classroom smiling like idiots for probably a little too long, but who cares?  The gorgeous music teacher wants to take you to IKEA to shop for lamps, and you can’t help but feel like this could be the start of something really, really good.
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obitos-whore · 4 months
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https://www.tumblr.com/obitos-whore/748760592303718400/how-the-naruto-men-react-to-their-crush-kissing?source=share
This is awesome, can we have more? Not only more, but I mean *much more*
Hey there nonnie. I assume with *much more* you mean some spicy stuff, right? If not, just send another request and I'll see what I can do.
Anyway, enjoy some Naruto men going down on you.
(Kakashi, Obito, Itachi, Shisui, Gaara, Kankuro, Madara, Sasuke)
18+, Minors do NOT interact
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Kakashi
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When it comes to going down on you, Kakashi is a downright menace and will do absolutely everything in his power to make sure you'll think of him for days to come
To ensure he has the element of surprise on his side and you don't see what's coming your way, Kakashi will blindfold you and tie your wrists to the headrest of your bed. He can't risk you peeking after all. Besides, there's something so incredibly hot and beautiful about seeing you so helpless and having you at his mercy
Will absolutely take advantage of your vulnerability and take his sweet time bringing you close to the edge, only to deny you the sweet release that's boiling inside just as you are about to burst
Chuckles at the myriad of curses you throw at him for being a dickhead and not letting you fucking cum
But when he does, boy oh boy, does make 'up' for his cruel teasing and make you cum several times in a row, each orgasm more intense than the previous one, ending with you as an overly sensitive mess unable to form a coherent thought, and a very happy and satisfied Kakashi
Obito
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Obito is downright addicted to the taste of you. If he could, he'd spend hours between your legs and pleasure you. And sometimes he even does.
He's very vocal during it, showering you in praises and letting out satisfied moans as he pleases you with his mouth
Depending on his mood, he'll either be incredibly sweet and tender, or downright cruel and edge you for hours on end. He'd make you beg and squirm desperately, even going as far as to restrain you with some nice ropes and let his possessive side come through and mark you everywhere, before he even considers giving you what you've been begging for since the beginning
Tends to get carried away rather quickly and becomes quite sloppy during it with saliva coating his chin after being away on a mission for quite some time. Must be the withdrawal symptoms
Would definitely not mind waking you up with his mouth on you every morning
Itachi
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Itachi likes to take his time with you and slowly get you worked up by kissing along the insides of your thighs and making his way up to your center inch by inch
Once he gets to it, his ministrations are gentle and sensual, flattening his tongue to give you slow strokes and suckling on the very sensitive parts of your sex
If you squirm too much, he will hold you in place and 'punish' you by going even slower, enjoying the sight of your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your hands gripping the sheets or his hair as you let out squeals and moans of pure ecstasy
Praise. Praise. Praise. This man has studied the book of praises and will stop at absolutely nothing to make you feel like royalty, both physical and verbal, while looking up at you with the most pussy dripping and dick hardening gaze that's humanly possible
Once Itachi is done with you, your legs will be shaking for hours. And the mere thought of having him between your legs again will be enough to make you all hot and bothered
Shisui
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Just like Obito, Shisui is completely and utterly addicted to you. He just can't keep his hands off of you, much less his mouth
Aside from your incredible taste and the delightful sounds that escape your pretty lips, it's also a way for him to relieve his pent up stress. Being a shinobi of his calibre does come with a huge amount of it after all
Shisui, being the playful little tease he is, will have you beg for him to finally let you cum, while the tip of his tongue playfully dances around your most sensitive spots. Always bringing you so close to the edge before withdrawing just in time to deny you that sweet release and leave you whining in frustration and need
He's also rather shameless and would love for everyone to hear you scream his name, so that they know who's making you see stars at the training grounds during the day. It's like a badge of honour for him
Sometimes he gets so into it, that he subconsciously activates his sharingan and stares at you with a look of pure hunger. Like a predator ready to strike its prey
Gaara
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Gaara is the definition of attentive and gentle. He loves hearing you moan his name as he uses his mouth and hands to bring you to heaven.
He's completely devoting himself to your pleasure and will always hold one of your hands, because he's a sweetheart and just craves the physical touch on top of the shared sexual intimacy
Will shower you with compliments and gently coo your name as he watches your face contort in pleasure and feel your body squirm underneath him
Gaara could never deny you anything, you're like his personal deity. However, he's more than willing to comply with your wishes and play a bit more dirty if that's what you're into
To Gaara, giving oral isn't just a way to pleasure one's needs and desires. To him, it's a way to show his deep love and devotion for his partner. It's like an art that demands the finest of skills. And your responses and reactions are the highest of praises one can receive
Kankuro
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Kankuro is not only a cocky and smug bastard with a witty tongue and a master of puppeteering. He also knows how to use that mouth and fingers expertly in the bedroom and make you scream his name for the entire village to hear
Knowing that he can make you feel so good only boosts his already big ego and will make him even more eager to have his way with you
He will use his chakra strings to keep your hands tied and your legs nicely spread and open for him to feast upon you to his heart's content. And may Jashin have mercy on you when he's been deprived of it for too long
Of course, given that he can be quite the prick, he won't give you what you want so easily and make you beg for it, relishing in the frustration and neediness that resonates in your tone
"You good, sugar?" He would ask you with feigned innocence between harsh sucks and light bites, plastering your inner thighs with his marks while you are teetering on the edge of heaven and hell
Madara
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Madara isn't a man who takes orders from anyone. Not even his little darling. However, if you ask him very, very nicely, he might relent and give you what you desire. But it comes with a price of course
Once he starts giving you what you asked for, there's no turning back. His mouth and hands are constantly on you, possessively touching every inch of skin while enjoying the way your vocal cords sing his name, your squirming body firmly pinned to whatever surface you're on
Madara takes great pleasure in taunting you when you ask for a break because you've come three times already and are overstimulated beyond comprehension
"What's wrong, darling? Tired already? Here, let me help you."
On top of stimulating you until your knees are practically jello, he'll also fuck you senseless afterwards. To remind you that you either play by his rules or not at all
Sasuke
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Sasuke is incredibly mean about you wanting him down there, teasing and taunting you about being so needy and will only give in so you stop whining like a 'bitch in heat'. He acts like he's annoyed, but in reality he's totally down for it
He's more on the rougher side of things and will make you whimper and writhe in total ecstasy and desperation as he selfishly takes what you so generously offer
During it, he'll possessively cover your body in bite marks and hickeys and tell you how pathetic you are and how he is the only one who can and will pleasure you
And since he's so nice, he'll go all out on you until he says he's done you're completely satisfied
Of course his 'services' don't come for free and so he will demand some sort of repayment. Whether it's him fucking you, or you giving him a blow job doesn't really matter to him in that moment
937 notes · View notes
ccrites · 6 months
Text
chokehold
listen, I've had this idea in my wips for a while (since the begnining of the year actually) and the fat reader worms have been wiggling in third gear with all the awesome stuff early ( @391780 ) has been putting out lately. So have 6.4k words of Soap being an absolute pussy eating freak but you know you love him
(also on ao3 if you prefer the formatting there, or if you want to drop a kudo)
.
The second the doors swing back closed behind you, you start feeling the scratchy feeling of doubt at the back of your throat.
It was predictable, really.
A small gym in a small town, heads turn when the hinges creak, not because they’re staring at you specifically, but because it’s a reflex.
Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself to keep the scratchy feeling from turning sour in your mouth. Or make you throw up from embarrassment.
Perhaps your New Year’s resolution should’ve been to start on a home gym type of situation. Buy yourself some girly weights, a mat, and some sort of stepping device, and do those easy exercises every slim, pretty, high-ponytailed YouTube instructor seemed to preconize people out of shape do. Like a hamster on a wheel inside their cage. A rat chasing its own tail, maybe.
No, you promised yourself no more fake promises. Perhaps the money spent on the gym membership (stupid fucking New Year’s promotion) would motivate you to use it, lest it’s just money down the drain. 
You wore the stretchiest, thickest pair of black leggings you owned, hoping no one would see the terrible shape of your underwear through it. On the opposite spectrum of things, you knew the largest hoodie you owned would smother you and make you boil with sweat, so you chose the next best thing: the widest black t-shirt you owned. It was definitely not black enough, the dye faded into a dark gray from use over the years, but it was the only thing that camouflaged your body enough from the others’ sight. God forbid they imagine what your body actually looks like underneath.
The heads pretty quickly turned back around as you started walking towards the empty treadmills. It couldn’t have been more than a second, but the combined weight of at least a dozen pairs of scrutinizing eyes would’ve been enough to make you turn on your heels and back to your car, fuck the membership price.
At the very least, you could convince yourself that walking in place (no better than a hamster on its wheel but oh well) would be enough to get you started. Baby steps, and all.
It doesn’t take long for you to realize the treadmill fucking sucks. Why would anyone suggest looking at a parking lot while suffering instead of the pretty scenery of a park or forest (while also suffering, but still).
The timer you’d set for the warm-up (ten minutes, just like the pretty blonde coach suggested!) crawls by way too slowly for your taste. You’d be all but whooping with joy when it beeps if you weren’t so out of breath and conscious of a gaze on you.
You’d seen him as soon as you walked in.
Between figures of balding men trying to get rid of their beer gut with abs, two thin women whispering to themselves in a corner while trying to look inconspicuous, and a few other, completely average-looking men and women, there he stands, eyes meeting yours in the mirror as he deadlifts an impressive amount of black plates.
He immediately looks straight ahead, correcting his stance, as if there were anything to be corrected, in your unathletic opinion. The muscles in his arms bulge even through the thin, grey hoodie, and the ones in his legs coil tight as the weight is lifted off the ground in a slow, controlled motion. Not even a grunt escapes his lips, at least no one you could hear from where you stood, completely mesmerized.
There was always something almost unappealing about overly muscled men. Their wife’s not feedin’ ‘em enough, your granny would grumble when passing by the rows of magazines at the checkout of the supermarket. 
Yet this man.
Yeah, he was muscled. But in a way, he looked… almost normal. Like he was built for strength, not necessarily vanity. Each bend of his legs, each twist of his arms…
You’d swoon if you hadn’t lowered your standards so low he’d trip on them. Accepted it a long time ago. Fats belong with fats, thins with thins, and if there’s a thin with a fat, either one’s getting fattened up, or the other’s getting dumped. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, and one you’d rather not be a part of.
You walk with shaky legs to the water dispenser, then get ready to grab the second to lightest weights to try some bicep curls.
You try to remember the positioning from the videos. Rotate in… or out? Should the wrists be like this? You go through ten repetitions on each side, before you think that you should’ve gone for the abs straight away. God knows there’s fat to burn there, and that the flab under your arms can wait.
You turn back from the rack and walk straight into a wall.
No, a chest.
Fuck.
“Sorry there, miss,” says a deep voice. You detect some sort of accent, unable to quite place it right away.
Your eyes run up, instinctively stopping for a second at chest level (holy heavens that’s a Chest with a capital C if you’ve ever seen one) before finally meeting that same pair of eyes you met a few minutes ago, through the mirror.
Double fuck.
“S-sorry, it’s me, wasn’t watching,” you stammer out, gesturing to the weights in a panicked way. “Just, y’know, switching exercises,” you sputter with a nervous laugh, like it was a completely normal thing to switch exercises after one rep.
He chuckles, and you really need to start planning your escape, because holy shit the way his pectorals rise and fall as his chest puffs up is getting a bit too much for your poor little humiliated self to handle, but he doesn’t let you as he speaks in a soft tone.
“I’m getting arms aren’t really your thing, eh?” he asks, not unkindly. Gosh, did it have to be a Scottish accent?
You can’t meet his eyes, they’re too blue, too piercing for your liking. “To be fair I don’t know what’s my thing yet, I’m just starting out, y’know?” you shift your weight on your legs, conscious of the size difference, and not in the way you wanted to be. Your neck is very warm all of a sudden.
He laughs again, like it’s the funniest thing in the world, and you almost want the floor to open up and swallow you whole, but the words that come out of his mouth are completely unexpected.
“Figured! A girl with thighs like yours, I’m sure you can deadlift more than me with just a lil’ training. I’m Johnny, by the way,” he adds in passing, as if offering his name is the least of his concerns. “You ever got someone to train you?”
You’re entirely unsure if you’re dreaming or not. Did this Scottish hunk of muscle really just offer to be your personal trainer?
“Never - uh… lifted anything, I guess. Just when moving, my couch and bed and all, but I had a friend help me.” You definitely feel like you’re oversharing and you’re struggling to ignore the weight of the gaze of the two thin women, burning through you as they whisper among themselves, when you realize you hadn't answered the second part. “Oh and, uh– no. I’ve never… trained. Been trained. It’s my first time in a gym since- a while. I don’t want to bother you.”
You finally look up at him, and you’re unable to read his expression. There’s a sort of curiosity, a fascination, that blends fast into a wide-eyed joy that’s so open, so sincere that it makes your head spin as he gently but firmly grabs your wrist and pulls you where his bar stands on the thick mat, ignoring your sputtering protests. “Not a bother at all, lass!” He lets go of you as he bends down and effortlessly racks the barbell, starting to remove plates as he continues. “We can start by measuring your max lift, then the one where you can easily do three reps, then we’ll hike it up till failure, so I can calculate your starting training weight!” he rambles on excitedly. You nervously shift on your feet, conscious of more curious gazes on you, but then he’s back in your bubble, pulling your attention towards him like a magnet.
His smile is like a blazing sun, and you don’t have the heart to tell him to prepare for disappointment.
He’s infinitely patient as he shows you how to place your feet, and the angle of your hips (oh, how you feel your knee weaken at the feel of his light tough through the leggings, nothing short of electrifying, despite being perfectly friendly), the hold on the bar. It’s all a blur till you find yourself bent over in front of him, looking in the mirror at your position and trying not to feel conscious of the way he’s placed behind you. Or let your mind wander in inappropriate places.
“Whenever yer ready, hen.”
You brace yourself, close your eyes for a brief second, wondering how the hell you’d landed on this planet, then breathe in, open your eyes-
The weight is in your hands. Not on the floor. You’re holding it.
You almost drop it when he cheers behind you, warm palms rubbing down from your shoulders to your elbows and back up. “Easy! I told you you’d be a natural! ‘S all in the legs and you’ve got awesome legs, bonnie! Let’s add twenty more.”
It’s a blur of racking and de-racking and lifting once and setting back, and redoing it again and again. You’re out of breath, sweating like a sinner in church, but you’re smiling along with him, finding yourself giving him double high fives, and doing small, excited jumps.
“Next one’s exactly my weight, if y’can lift that, I’ll be losing my bloody mind! D’you realize how well yer doin’ for a first-timer?” He says as he bends next to you, adjusting the bar for the next set of weights. With a wipe of his forearm over his forehead, he crouches slightly down, placing his head right above your shoulder and looking your reflection in the mirror straight in the eyes with a conspiratory grin. “Swear to God, if ye can lift it off the ground, I’m buying you the most expensive drink at the bar next door!” he says, grin blending into a blinding smile, too genuine for your own good.
He’s just friendly, just friendly, just friendly, you say to yourself like a mantra as you position yourself. He stands again to his full height behind you, hands ready under the bar, a safenet.
Deep breath in– hold it…
Slowly but surely, you lift the weight off the floor, your ears ringing from the effort. You see his lips move as he cheers you on, but the blood pumping in your eardrums makes it impossible to hear him. Suddenly, the weight is back on the ground and your feet are off the floor as you’re lifted in a tight embrace and spun around like you weigh nothing.
You yelp and flail but he’s holding you tight, face pressed smack-dab in the middle of your chest, between your tits, rumbling praises about your prowess while you’re trying to figure out whether this can be something that your brain is capable of summoning as a dream.
“Put me down, Johnny, oh my God, put me down!”
He thankfully complies but not before squeezing your ass tighter, and suddenly nothing feels real anymore.
“Jesus, I knew ye were perfect,” he says, pulling back reluctantly to rerack the bar and put back the weights. “I cannot wait to properly start training ye’ tomorrow, but for now, I have a promise ta’ keep, and, uh, let’s just say I wouldn’t mind using those strong thighs as earmuffs with this freezin’ weather. On the way back from the bar, what d’ya say?” he adds, wiggling his eyebrows with a crooked smile that lets you know he’s joking around. (Is he?)
You laugh with him and for a second, you forget what you were here for.
+++
The way to the bar is short. It was just a block away (Good for business, he jokes), but the conversation with Johnny made time really fly by. 
He seems genuinely glad when you tell him you’d decided to head to the gym not just as a New Year’s resolution, but trying to simply become a better you. There’s no condescendence, no talking down, no (God forbid) pity, just an overall nice interaction the whole time. He tells you about being on leave as a soldier (Medical leave, he specifies, a fucked up knee can work in a gym, but it’s a different story out in the field), you tell him about your studies and how that led into a “big girl” job that left you no time for yourself.
“But I’ve always been a big girl,” you feel the need to justify. “Just… gotten bigger as I stopped finding time to move. The desk and the laptop are pretty stationary,” you joke, still trying to make sense of why a man like him (broad, and tall, and strong, and… gosh, just perfect-looking) would even deign to accept being seen with you.
(It’s not a date, you dumbass)
“I happen to like big girls,” is what you don’t expect him to say.
Wait, what?
His blue eyes glue you to your seat, and you respond dumbly. “What?”
“I mean, why do you think I’d offer to train you?” he continues, placing his hand, big and warm over your thigh. It’s squished as you sit, wide and flattened in your seat, yet his hand covers a good amount, almost covering the whole width.
Your brain is short-circuiting but you have to answer something.
“Out of– uh… out of niceness?” you stammer out, feeling your insecurities climb back out of the hole they’d been sleeping in all this time, making you shrink even more, trying to cover yourself as if he didn’t see right through you with that piercing gaze. “To feel good seeing you be the reason I lose weight?”
He chuckles, squeezing your thigh as his head hangs down, almost as if to hide the smile that spreads on his lips.
“Strength training doesn’t work like that, bonnie.” He looks back up, and his eyes are blue, and wide, and so pretty, that you can’t find anything to argue back. “Ye’ think building glutes underneath that fat arse does anything but make it bigger?” He shifts, inching closer as he licks his lips and drops his voice lower. “Ye’ think growing your quads will make this,” he gives an even firmer squeeze, wiggling the fat back and forth, and you tense under his grip, but he’s got you pinned down, “any less wide and soft?”
He presses closer, and the booth has no escape room, you’re practically squeezed into the corner as he pushes his body against yours, bending to whisper lowly in the crook of your neck.
“I did not joke when I said I want yer pretty thighs wrapped tight around my head.”
You can’t be blamed when you don’t remember how you ended up in the back of a cab, Johnny barely taking the time to bark an address to the poor driver and throw fifty quid on the front seat before kissing you absolutely senseless, shamelessly groping your tits with a hand and wrapping the other around your thigh, squeezing you close.
You should probably think more about going home with basically a stranger, no matter how hot, but when he presses his entire palm against your cunt, cupping it over the quickly dampening pair of leggings that didn’t seem so thick anymore, you can’t think at all. He swallows your quiet moans, and hums contently against your lips, taking each gasp for air as an invitation to slither his tongue into your mouth. God, you’d forgotten what a good makeout session was like, and you can’t even find it in you to be embarrassed when you see the cabbie’s eyes in the rearview mirror, instantly looking away when you see him staring. 
Johnny doesn’t seem to mind either, and when he notices you looking in the front again and again, he crowds you against the door behind the driver with a huff, half-climbing over you until his knee is pressed against your core, and the only thing in your field of vision is him.
“Johnny,” you try to say, but it’s getting hard to think, with the way you’re being squeezed in a corner, this hunk of a man of pure muscle pressing against you like a weighted blanket, kissing you like you were a drop of water in the desert and he was a parched man drinking you for his salvation. You feel his excitement pressed against your thigh, and it gives you enough lucidity to try again. “Johnny,” you gasp out again, “aren’t we going a little fast?”
He laughs instead, choosing to focus on the side of your mouth, pressing fervent little kisses down your neck before starting to suckle the delicate skin over where your clavicle is. “I can go as slow as you’d like, bun.” He takes the spot an inch next to the previous one into his mouth and sucks again, this time more forcefully, marking you, and oh God you’re going to have to conceal it before work tomorrow, unless you can find a turtleneck to wear–
The cab driver clears his throat, and you notice that the car is stopped in front of a small apartment complex. Johnny says a cordial thanks as he pulls you out of the car and throws another twenty on the backseat, before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and taking all of the thinking out of the equation as he walks you to the entry.
His flat is pretty well furnished, all things considered, but he doesn’t give you enough time to observe the deco as he presses you against the door and slides his hand under your leggings.
“Got me starin’ at that ass the second you walked in, best fuckin’ thing I’ve seen in months, d’ye realize that, bonnie?” he breathes out against your ear as his entire palm cups your sex, and you can only whine as you press your forehead into the crook of his neck. “And by how wet this pussy is, I think you liked starin’ at me, too.”
“You are–” you say, but he curls his middle finger in, spreading your lips and spreading the wetness to your clit, making you choke on your words, “-very nice to stare at.”
“Yeah?” you hear the grin in his voice.
“Mmhm,” you nod, as he keeps the back and forth of his finger, never dipping in too far, just keeping you hungry for more.
“Then how’d ye like to stare down at me as I taste this wet cunt of yours?” he purrs in your ear as he stops moving completely, letting the words process.
Brain.exe has stopped functioning. 
Had you ever had a boyfriend willing to speak filth like that to you when you were down to do the deed, maybe you would’ve gotten enough practice to know what to answer something sensible and intelligible to that, but as it stands, all you can muster is a very dumb-sounding “Huh?” as you stare back at him.
And that, apparently, is the funniest thing in the world to him, because he dips his head down and laughs, almost like a boyish giggle. Not only does that not stop him from kneeling in front of you, but it also somehow gives him more confidence to keep talking like that.
“How about you look down into my eyes as I eat out your pretty little pussy and make you come around my tongue, how’s that sound?” His baby blues bear no trace of maliciousness, no trace of a joke, as his fingers hook around the waistband and trace it around your stomach. You have to make a very conscious effort not to suck it in immediately in preparation for the letdown, but he doesn’t pull them down yet, only moving his hand alongside the edge. Your silence as you try to process what is happening only seems to spur him on instead. “In fact, how about you close your eyes, I close mine, and you hold my head close as I devour you, would you let me do that, pretty girl?”
“I’m not-” you can’t think of any way to properly let him down, not when he looks up with such pleading eyes, so the words stumble out gracelessly. “I’m sweaty, you don’t wanna–”
But he interrupts as he pulls your leg closer by gripping your thigh and squishing it against his cheek “But I do.” He inhales deeply, and your own breath shakes at the sight of how blissed out he already looks. “God, I want it. Let me have this.”
A voice somewhere inside yells at you that this has to be some sort of weird fetish, and that he most certainly won’t be having the same aura of desperation around him tomorrow, when post-coital rationale shows up and he sees your body past the veil of lust, but for now, you think that getting some with Johnny cannot be that bad compared to any one of your past encounters. Might as well enjoy it when you still can.
You wrap your hand around the one he still has around your waistband, and see his face positively light up as you softly caress his cheek.
In the end, you’re the one that pleads.
“Johnny, please.”
Your pants are off you and your leg is over his shoulder before you realize what is happening.
The feel of his warm tongue against your slit makes any thought, any doubt, any fear positively vanish, and the content sigh that he lets out as he licks at you is the same sigh as finally removing a bra at the end of a long day, it’s the sigh of laying down carelessly onto a soft bed after standing up for hours, it’s the sigh of the first bite of the best meal a man has after starving for weeks.
It should be awkward the way his arm wraps around your thigh and sinks into the softness of your stomach, using it to pin you up as he uses his other hand to spread you out enough for him to work his jaw the same way he did when he was making out with you in the car… Yet it’s not. It’s natural, the way his hand squeezes you as he licks, and sucks, and kisses around your pussy, unhurried yet passionate, languidly but firmly, pressing his tongue in, licking around your lips, and maddeningly avoiding the place you wanted him to touch most.
“Johnny,” you moan as he grazes his teeth around your sensitive nub in response. You almost buck out of his hold, but he’s firmly keeping you in place. “Please, don’t tease.”
He hums in response and dives back in, eyes fluttering closed as he ignores your whines. Every time his tongue or lips graze your clit, he works his mouth the opposite way, holding your thigh harder and pressing his palm up as he counters your hip movements with a clever swipe of the tongue. It’s absolutely maddening. “Johnny, please!”
He chuckles as he pulls back, an obscene string of spit lengthening as he pulls back, only breaking when he runs his tongue against his reddened, swollen lips. “Thought ye’ wanted me ta’ go slow, bun.” His eyes sparkle with challenge, but you can also discern a veil of unhidden desperation, of waiting for you to give the go-ahead for him to let loose.
“I’m fine with faster–” you start, but the words dissolve into a barely restrained moan as he hikes your leg up more, getting you closer to him, and immediately singling onto your neglected clit.
His forehead rests onto your belly now, and if you had more than two functioning neurons you’d wonder how he is that he’s breathing, but his hums and moans let you know that he’s perfectly content burrowing his nose in your pussy, nudging at your clit with the tip of it as he licks you with all the dedication you’ve never been shown from a man of his caliber.
He builds it up, and soothes it down, knowing exactly when to put more pressure, or when to teasingly swirl his tongue around your entrance, or to lave broad strokes of his tongue, so much so that the knee that’s not hooked over his shoulder almost gives out on a particularly forceful suck of your clit.
“Easy there,” he groans almost petulantly, as if you’re interrupting him. “Can’t have you fallin’ over when I’m not done wit’ ye.”
“My legs are gonna give out,” you say honestly, trying to catch your breath and avoid having the perfect man at your feet steal it again. “You’re a bit too good at this.” He grins up at you, “Am I?” and you want to give you a playful swat, but instead decide on carding your fingers through his now disheveled mohawk. “Guess the mess on my face speaks for itself… Shall we take this to the bedroom?”
You throw a glance around the apartment, assessing your options. “Couch is closer.” His smile is blinding. “I like how ye’ think.”
It’s now the second time he surprises you by scooping your legs from under you and picking you up like he couldn’t wait any longer and that carrying you bridal-style was the only way he could think of moving you. You yelp out a protest but he swallows it with another hungry kiss, shamelessly smearing your own wetness over your cheek as he walks you both to the couch.
You sink into the cushions where he places you gently without so much as a grunt of effort, and oh God, there they are, the standards are rising.
You reach over to pull him closer as he straightens up, but he only gives you a peck on the lips in return, like he hadn’t been kissing you sloppily the entire time.
“Come back,” you whine, hoping you can get it done before he comes back to his senses, like they all do, but he just smiles and kneels between your feet, hands pressing your thighs apart. The squelch of your lips parting should be embarrassing were he not looking up at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, eyes full of adoration, like a child staring up at the full moon on full display on a clear night’s skies. Maybe you are his moon, his goddess, judging by the lust-clouded look directed at you.
“I did say I was gonna make you come on my face,” he says lowly, the gravel in his voice making you squirm as he places a trail of kisses up your thigh. “And I intend to keep that promise.”
With that, he dives in again, using his forearms to pin your legs open on the couch and his fingers to tease around where his tongue can’t reach. You mewl when you feel his tongue at your entrance, circling it around it briefly before delving in as deep as he could, his right hand stroking your clit rhythmically. The fact that he’s so good at somehow playing all your buttons like a maestro directing an orchestra has you thinking that he must be some sort of womanizer, some freak who does this kind of thing every night, but then his lips wrap around your nub and he gives a firm, long suck, and any restriction that you could’ve conjured up simply vanishes. Your thighs want to close around his head, but you can’t move under the iron grip he has on you.
You fist his hair more forcefully than necessary, and he looks up, wet eyelashes framing his beautiful eyes as he hums in response.
“Please,” you moan, and he hums affirmatively again, closing his eyes to focus on licking and suckling harder. He heard you, he simply doesn’t seem to care. “Johnny.”
“What,” he asks, voice muffled and why is this so hot? 
“I need… I need,” you whine, unable to string the words together, and desperately trying to buck your hips under him, for lack of strength to actually close your thighs how you want to.
That seems to get his attention, and he chuckles, before pulling back with a gentle kiss on your mound. “Guess you’ll have to keep tryin’, pet,” he sussurs, a condescending pat on your thighs before he dives in slower than before.
Oh, the absolute asshole. Now he wants you to work for it?
You think that doing the opposite, relaxing your thighs open and letting him go to town however he wanted would help, but he seems hell-bent on riling you up every once in a while, getting you closer and closer with each lave of his tongue over your poor, overstimulated clit, but never enough to actually push you over the edge.
After what seems like an eternity, and almost, almost starting to think that this was a mistake, halfway ready to let him do this thing before your hip starts to cramp up, you feel a finger nudge at your entrance.
“Fucking finally–” you start, ready to curse him out, but he’s faster than you can think in your blissed-out state, and he slides a second finger alongside the first one, immediately zeroing in on that spot that makes you go cross-eyed and buck under his hold.
“Thassit– there you go, pretty girl,” he murmurs against your clit, and oh, okay, maybe you were closer than you thought, because the rhythmic curl of his fingers doesn’t need to last long before you’re off like an arrow, back arching and thighs squeezing, coming harder than you ever thought was possible. If he were any less skilled at making you completely lose the ability to think, you’d maybe notice that you’d managed to close your thighs almost completely around his head, but he wasn’t, so you don’t, twitching helplessly in the aftershocks of the most wonderful orgasm a man had ever given you.
Limbs that somehow still belong to your body hang uselessly off the side of the couch, and you struggle to catch your breath. You blink lazily, noticing him smugly wipe his face with the back of his hand, his half lidded eyes not any less blissed-out than yours. 
You didn’t believe a man like this ever existed, until now. It aches that this might not be something that would last, so you make grabby hands at him, unable to find the will to speak just yet. 
He laughs softly and gently grabs your arms, kissing from your knuckles slowly up your arm, to the crook of your neck. The patience he has is almost inhuman, as he takes the time to let you regather your senses, matching the marks he made earlier on the other side of your neck. You cup your hand around his head in response, and he smiles at you.
“Ye’ with me, bun?”
“Mmhm.”
“That slow enough fer’ ye’?” He holds himself up, an inch fron your face, and you reach up to kiss him.
“I’m gonna kill you dead,” you mutter against his lips, and he chuckles.
“Let me at least fuck you properly, first,” he whispers, and you notice that he’s long since unbuttoned his pants. You barely get a view of the massive size of him over your belly as he holds himself in his hand, large palm not enough to cover the whole length of him as he strokes himself, angled in such way that his tip rubs against your clit on each downstroke. The word “Please,” is not even halfway out of your mouth when he sinks into you in one swift motion, the rest dissolving into a long, drawn-out moan.
“Fuck-” he grunts, “so tight, cannot believe it.”
He guides one of your legs to wrap around him, keeping it flush against his body with his elbow as his palm grips your ass tightly, the other holding him against the backrest, forearm near your head as he pulls you closer for a sloppy kiss as he starts rolling his hips. You moan into his mouth and he swallows them greedily, leveraging each trust of his hips with a pull with his hand, helping you move in tandem with him, readjusting when your thigh threatens to slip out of his hold. The slaps of his pelvis to yours should sound obscene, his hard muscles hitting against your soft, jiggly skin, but his groans into your mouth are like music to your ears, the fact that he’s vocal about it has you almost reaching your peak again in no time, but he seems to sense it, and slows down immediately.
You try to kiss him harder, but he makes a small noise of protest, muttering something that sounds vaguely like “no, let me, let me just–” and you want to ask what he wants to do, to help him, but he instead reaches down both hands to grab your hips and pull you off the backrest. You yelp as your ass suddenly hangs in the air, his cock speared inside you the only secure point as he pulls you halfway off the couch, but he directs you firmly, “Here, around me,” helping you wrap your legs tightly as he starts thrusting again, harder than before.
“Oh, God, oh God,” you flail around, but each thrust in pushes your back into the cushions, and he reaches behind his back to hold your feet in his hand as he presses his palm near your head for support, spewing more filth as he does.
“That’s it, hold me tight, squeeze my cock like ye’ almost squeezed mah heid off earlier, huh, bonnie? Show me what those thighs can do, fuck-”
Your whole body is jiggling with each thrust, and you don’t have it in you to even feel self-conscious with the way each time he fills you, the tip of his cock nudges against the spongey spot inside, making you mewl in tempo with his relentless rhythm.
“Johnny, Johnny,” you moan, and he bends over to kiss you again, swallowing his name like communion while you chant it like a prayer.
“Don’t give up now, bonnie, keep squeezin’, fuck, I can feel ye’, yer so close.”
You try to get some leverage with your upper body, trying to push yourself up the cushions, but his cock suddenly slips out of you as your thighs almost give out, and an apology is already halfway out your mouth when he kneels back down and burrows between your legs, tongue first with a rushed “Need ta’ taste us, fuck, both of us, together-”
One hand wraps around your hip and over your pelvis, reaching up to knead desperately at your stomach, to pull you closer or push you away, you can’t tell, the other pulling your lips apart to settle his entire lower face against your pussy firmly– before letting go as he starts humming.
Your thighs are free to squeeze around his ears, and he nods encouragingly as he keeps licking, and then you hear it: the sounds of wet stroking. You don’t see him fisting his cock, but you hear it, fast and desperate. As your hand tangles in his hair to pull him closer, and another hum– no, another moan vibrates through your core, it’s the last thing you hear before you’re absolutely gone, gasping out a curse as you tense up in his hold, trembling as you come.
It’s even more intense than the first one, and as you buck out of his hold, he stands up shakily, his hand moving faster and faster around his cock, the angry red of his tip at the same level as your face. You gesture for him to sit down, trying to signal to him that you want to reciprocate despite the post-orgasmic haze and exhaustion, but he shakes his head, and, seconds later, you feel warm wetness land on your belly and slowly trickle down as he moans your name when he comes.
You feel like you still have to give something back, and, when he slumps down next to you with a content sigh, you climb over to place a delicate kiss on the tip of his cock, letting out a huff of laughter when it twitches under your touch.
“Ye’ absolute menace,” he whispers fondly as he pulls you up and tips his body to the side to lie down, using his legs to push you up halfway over him, trapping you between his body and the cushions, yet protectively shielding you from falling over. You place another kiss on his stomach, and you see his abs tense under your touch as your warm breath moves his hairs as you hover for a second, before deciding to shift up and use his pectorals as a cushion. He hums softly as his arm wraps around under yours, reaching to pull the plaid off the back of the couch and settle it around you both. Ticklish, eh? That’s a piece of information best stored for later.
You’re still breathless, absolutely done for. God, best decision of your life, going to the gym. “Now what?” you can’t help but ask. It’s the same fear that always creeps up, the fear that he got to try out a fantasy, and now that he was done with it, he had no need to want to continue anything possibly serious. Not that eating a girl out on a first date, if you could even call it a date, was a sign of a one-night stand, you can’t help but feel awkward and insecure now that it’s all done, despite the comforting cuddle.
He chuckles in response, that same chuckle from earlier in the day, a What a silly question chuckle. Like he’d read into your thoughts and insecurities and found them absolutely laughable.
“Same time at the gym, tomorrow? I want you to squeeze my head off next time.”
“Next time, huh?”
He pulls your leg over his pelvis, trapping his still half-mast cock between his belly and the crook of your knee, hand firmly wrapped to shift you up, almost completely on top of him. When both of you are comfortable and you start feeling the tendrils of sleep pull you deeper, he gives a last, playful squeeze to your ass.
“Next time.”
531 notes · View notes
harrysgal · 3 months
Text
I DIG YOUR CINEMA (6)
harry styles x yn aspiring filmmaker — social media AU
About the smau: yn starts posting videos on youtube and is trying to build a career as a filmmaker. Things are going pretty well for her and she starts getting more attention when she creates content about shows she goes to. She’s also a fan of Harry’s music and some of his fans start getting suspicious when his team starts interacting with her.
Disclaimer: The story it’s set in 2021 and it will follow their relationship through the LOT leg in the US. Since this is nothing but fiction, I will be following some of the real timeline but also adding my own stuff. On top of that, I won’t be basing myself on Harry’s actual posts.
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PART 5 // MASTERLIST
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I DIG YOUR CINEMA (PART 6)
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liked by bestfriend, lookitsnyoh, mollyjane_x and 74,215 others 
yourinstagram sorry guys, had to visit my parents really quick to meet the new addition to the family. i also went over to my best friend just so she could tell me ‘i told you so’, did some thinking while staring through the window, and had some quality time catching up with my niblings. everything went great and it got me all excited for what’s coming next :D i honestly cant believe how lucky i am to have all these great people around me. 
now im back to duty and ready to spread all my love around, so… who wants some? 
view all 11,401 comments 
user7 YESSSSSSS HIIIIII THERE YOU ARE!!! user13 omg did your parents get a puppy??? 🥹 harryfan3 when i got to the end of the caption tho !!!!! 
↳ harryfan11 right?! so SASSY omg i love this woman
anthonypham 🙋‍♂️
↳ lookitsnyoh 🙋🏼‍♀️ ↳ paulithepsm 🙋🏿‍♂️ ↳ pillowpersonpp 🙋‍♀️ ↳ mitchrowland 🙋‍♂️ ↳ _basselin 🙋‍♀️ ↳ glenne_azoff 🙋‍♀️ ↳ jefezoff 🙋‍♂️ ↳ harryfan5 STOP THEY’RE ALL HERE TO SUPPORT HER 😭 ↳ harryfan64 Harry isnt tho ↳ user9 they alllllll want some love lmao i love it ↳ harryfan64 not Harry tho. bc he didn’t comment  ↳ harryfan27  @harryfan64 for the love of God just stop you’re embarrassing our fandom 
user1 im glad to see you here. hope you’re feeling our support 🥰❤️ harryfan YOU’RE SOOOOOO  loveynrry this is why we haven’t seen her around with harry then :’) bc she took some days off 
↳ user13 no bc the fact that he probably gave her some days off after what happened is so sweet :’) ↳ harryfan80 or maybe he just didn’t want to be linked to her anymore so he sent her away ↳ loveynrry @harryfan80 fuck off from my comment 
user5 yn really said “fuck you for posting that shit” and that’s why she’s so awesome  bestfriend miss you already <3 bestfriend we’re the lucky ones btw  bestfriend also ily 
↳ user4 you two are the coolest i want to be friends with you too ↳ harryfan17 okay but what were you right about tho 👀
harryfan18 This is so childish 🙄 you could just address the rumors instead of adding more to them yknow 
↳ harryfan25 how is she adding more to the rumors? just curious ↳ harryfan18 When she makes jokes about it but doesn’t say things aren’t true she’s allowing them to keep the narrative going  ↳ harryfan25 she never allowed them to “start” with this narrative, tho ↳ harryfan18 Maybe not. But now she’s clearly aware of what’s happening and what they’re saying so she could put a stop to it instead of making jokes about it ↳ harryfan25 honestly I don’t think she would be able to stop them but ok  ↳ harryfan74 She clearly wants the attention so of course she won’t stop the rumors 
harryfan26 very funny but do you have a bf or not????   user15 WE LOVE YOU ❤️ 
Sep 15, 2021. • 
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liked by harryfan18, harryfan22 and 217 others
harryupdates Harry out in Philadelphia with some friends! 
view all 81 comments
harryfan31 awwww he’s so happy  harryfan35 yasssss my love <3 can’t wait to see you tomorrow!!! harryfan18 no yn around FINALLY 
↳ harryfan56 good. she should stay with that bf of hers and away from him ↳ harryfan48 I knew Harry would put a stop to that whole fiasco after the truth came out  ↳ harryfan52 yep. and I’m pretty sure we’ll slowly fully stop hearing about her 
harryfan15 can people leave yn out of their mouths pls 🙄 
Sep 16, 2021. •
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liked by annetwist, bestfriend, sisterinlaw and 61,917 others 
yourinstagram what a crazy crazy busy day! didnt think i’d have time to walk around the city this time but turns out i did and omg!! im glad i was wrong bc philly you’re truly GORGEOUS <3 
view all 9,347 comments
loveynrry can’t believe yn went to a museum and harry wasn’t there lol harryfan5 omg i’m going to the show in DC and I’M SO EXCITED harryfan5 would it be okay if I approached to say hello?? dont want to make you uncomfortable I just love your videos so much Id love to talk to you about it
↳ yourinstagram omg yesss that’d be totally okay! you’re so sweet for asking <3 see you at the show! ↳ harryfan5 omg???? STOPSJFNAK  ↳ harryfan3 GIRL SHE REPLIED ↳ harryfan5 I know stop I’m losing my mind I DIDN’T EVEN THINK SHE’D SEE IT OMG
harryfan49 WHERE’S HARRY?!!
↳ harryfan66 living his own life bc he finally realized what a shitshow she is
user1 😍 so pretty! it must be amazing to get to know all these places
↳ yourinstagram it is! its been one of my favorite parts of this job for sure :)))
harryfan54 You’re not fooling anyone we all know Harry wasn’t with you 
↳ user3 ??? she never said Harry was with her?? ↳ harryfan54 C’mon she keeps posting all these vague things just so people wonder about it ↳ user5 you should see a doctor. istg this can’t be healthy 
harryfan72 isn’t it funny how after those headlines came out we didn’t see harry and yn together anymore ☠️ user5 can harrys fans leave this comment section? WE DON’T WANT YOU HERE SO GTFO
↳ harryfan3 i swear not all of us are like this :( ↳ user5 no omg i know that :( i’m sorry it’s just annoying to see these comments taking over her posts thats all ↳ user17 also the fact that she replied to some people shows she’s reading things :( ↳ user9 istg if yn stops interacting with us because of them… 😠 ↳ harryfan3 yeah i get it guys :( i wish there was a way to stop them  ↳ harryfan19 I hope she at least knows how many of us really like her 
Sep 16, 2021. •
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liked by harryfan18, harryfan22 and 357 others
harryupdates Harry and Yn out in DC this morning!
view all 81 comments
harryfan5 stopppppp user9 oh i love this! harryfan9 MY BABIES 😍 harryfan78 you can’t even see their faces so how do you know it’s really him? 
↳ harryfan68 it’s not them lol ↳ harryupdates It’s 100% him. The fan who saw them also took a picture with Harry but asked us not to post it.  ↳ harryfan78 right 👍 how convenient lmao
Sep 18, 2021. •
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liked by annetwist, bestfriend, jefezoff and 92,127 others 
yourinstagram im supposed to fall asleep but im too excited so here’s a post with some glimpses of this long and marvelous day
view all 13,987 comments
iloveyn respectfully, those are legs for days 🫡 harryfan the way i just GASPED!!   loveynrry i LIVE for the concept of pictures 1 and 3 being on the same photodump  harryfan3 MOTHER bestfriend 🔥 bestfriend 👀 lookitsnyoh pls step on my face
↳ anthonypham pls step on my face  ↳ bestfriend pls step on my face ↳ user3 pls step on my face ↳ harryfan19 pls step on my face  ↳ user2 pls step on my face 
harryfan29 idk why buy harry’s mom liking her posts is so funny to me lol harryfan62 This is so inappropriate  harryfan80 ??? I can’t believe you just posted a picture of your legs along with pictures of your job
↳ harryfan25 wait, what? no offense but how old are you? lol ↳ harryfan80 old enough to know that’s highly unprofessional? ↳ harryfan25 unprofessional to whom? lmao she’s barely showing her legs whilst harry is fully naked on his cover album so i doubt he cares  ↳ harryfan13 hahahahaha that’s so true omg ily @harryfan25
user15 ohhhh 😍 i love bold and confident yn  harryfan91 so are you dating harry or not????
↳ harryfan76 she’s not. She’s just desperate for attention ↳ harryfan84 also, she has a boyfriend! 
harryfan5 THANK YOU FOR BEING SO NICE TO ME I LOVED LOVED LOVED MEETING YOU 
↳ harryfan5 THANK YOU AGAIN I MEAN IT YOU’RE THE BEST ↳ yourinstagram emmaaaa ❤️ thank YOU! you’re the sweetest and I loved talking to you :))) hope you had a great show!
Sep 18, 2021. •
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— — — — — 
PART 7 (soon)
— — — — —
Tag list: @toldyouitwasamelodrama @gem1712 @metanoiablxxm @awatt31 @namelesssreaderrr @ameerakane20 @yessswhale89 @idkkkkkkk123lgb — PLEASE READ: I’ll only add to the next tag list those who interact with this post. I hope you understand, thank you for your excitement.
319 notes · View notes
chaepink · 1 year
Note
K so imagine this:
Tutoring Hinata or Kageyama, (either one works cause they're both in desperate need of kicking up their grades) fucking them in a serpent's embrace-type position while they complete a study guide you prepared but edging them until they get 100% accuracy. Them breathily sighing out answers and occasional whines. Drilling the content into their heads while drilling them with the strap
Studying session | sub!kageyama tobio
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wc: 1.4+ words | masterlist
dom!reader, begging, edging, pegging, reader is mentioned to be able to lift him up, slight spanking, degrading
note : i feel like i wrote this weird...
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When you suggested that you would help tutor Kageyama for his upcoming test, he thought it was all going to be flashcards, tests, and strict tutoring. Although you did bring a study guide that you made for him to use, he didn't think you would propose an idea that made the whole situation a lot more interesting.
"Is the answer-" He cuts himself off with a whine as you continue fucking him with your strap. Every bounce of his body sends shocks throughout him.
"C-C?" He lets out another breathy whine as you smile. "That's right," you say, speeding up your movements.
The next question is harder, a question about information that Kageyama had trouble memorizing. It doesn't help that he's rather close to cumming either, with his hips jerking up and down, trying to match the pace you're setting.
"Is it C?"
"Sorry babe, but that's incorrect." You slow down your thrusts to an almost complete stop as Kageyama sobs at the lack of pleasure.
"N-No! I was so c-close, please!" He turns to you with tear-brimmed eyes, begging you to continue with your movements. You quietly shush him as you wipe away the tears that are about to fall.
"Shh, it's okay. There are still a few more questions left and you've done so well so far. How about you get these last ones correct and you'll get a reward?" He nods hesitantly at you, turning back at the study guide.
You begin your previous actions again and start slowly fucking in and out of him again. While it's enough to make him feel a bit of pleasure, it's still not enough for him. He needs more!
Though he was hesitant at first to agree to your... unique method of tutoring that includes some pegging, once he got into it, he began enjoying the idea a lot more. Of course, he's not going to verbally tell you that but you can already tell by his begging and actions.
With his back to your chest and him sitting on your lap, you're able to slip your hand under his shirt and play with his nipples every once in a while as he tries to answer the questions correctly. This also means that even a slight movement of your legs sends a bolt of pleasure up his body due to the strap in him moving as well.
"T-The correct answer is ngh! i-is B."
"That's correct." He whines as you speed up your actions. He can tell that you're purposely increasing the pace less than you would usually, knowing that it would drive him crazy.
As you ask him every remaining question that's left, he gets it right. All that's left is a particularly hard one that you may or may not have put there as the last question on purpose, knowing that you would have made him agree to your idea.
Kageyama takes some time thinking (although he can't do it very well, not when you're still inside him) before telling you his answer to the final question.
"Correct! That's awesome, baby." You give him a kiss on the cheek. "I'm so proud of you for finishing all this." A grin makes its way onto your face.
"You know what you get now, right?"
He twists his head to look at you, a blush adorning his cheeks as he stutters out an answer.
"A r-reward?" You smile at him.
"That's right." Grabbing him by the hips, you gently lift him up enough so you can slip the strap out of him, eliciting a whine out of him.
"[Name] w-what are you-"
"Don't worry, you'll get your reward. Just lay flat on the table."
Obediently, he does what you tell him to and lays his body on the table in front of him, making sure to remove the papers on it first. Due to how low the piece of furniture is, his knees lay nicely on the floor. He's in a near-dog position with his elbows on the table and you swear you can almost see a doggy tail waving side to side behind him.
You can't help but lick your lips at the view. Kageyama, your oh so adorable boyfriend, presenting his ass to you as he turns around and looks at you with innocent, pleading eyes. His current state hugely contrasts his usual stoic and serious demeanor. 
You can just ravish him then and there, but you have to take it slow first. It's his reward after all. Grabbing him by the hips, you position your strap to his hole.
"Ready for your reward?" Instead of a verbal answer, Kageyama teasingly shakes his ass at you and you tsk, giving it a small slap. Kageyama whimpers at the delicious pain.
"Such a tease, aren't you? I need a verbal answer."
"Fuck y-yes."
In one smooth motion, you enter the strap inside him and begin fucking him with slow yet deep thrusts. Each and everyone one of them elicits a moan out of him.
It's not long until you eventually speed up and begin fucking him at a faster pace than before, one that has his knees weak, eyes about to roll back, and breathless. God, it feels so good, he thinks. The strong grip you have on his hips hurts but the slight pain only adds to the pleasure he's feeling.
You lean forward, your chest almost touching his back. Although he's lowering his face toward the table, you can still see how red his face is. With this new position, you're able to fuck him from a whole new angle as you talk into his flushed ear.
"I'm fucking you so good, isn't that right? I can tell by the way you're crying and moaning like a bitch in heat."
You teasingly blow cool air onto his ear, enjoying the way his body shivers.
"y-yes you're ah! f-fucking me so good!" He lets out another whimper and as you take a peek at his dick, you grin as you see how hard and red it is, pre dripping onto the floor.
"Answer this question, baby." You grab the study guide you made for him off the floor and put it in front of him, showing him a random question.
"f-fuck is the answer-" He cuts himself off with a choked moan as you hit a particular spot in him that has his toes curling and head thrown back, eyes rolling.
"What's that? Repeat it for me."
"i-is the a-answer D?" You shake your head, however, you don't stop your movements this time.
"That's incorrect. You got this right just minutes ago too." You feign a pout even though you know he can't see you. "Such a shame. Is it because I'm fucking you so well that you've turned stupid? Is that it? You've been fucked dumb, hm?" Kageyama nods, too fucked out to even process what you're saying or doing to him. All that he feels is the pleasure you're giving him.
"Before I was drilling all that information in your head now I'm drilling this strap in you, isn't that right? And you're enjoying it so much too."
Your thrusts continue to turn rough and the pace increases, making Kageyama let out of near scream as you hit all the right spots in him. His arms give up under him and he's laying flat on the table now. His knees are about to give up as well but the only reason they aren't is because you're holding onto his hips.
He's close, you know it.
"[Name] p-please!"
"Please what?" He lets out a choked sob at your feigning innocence. Another thrust from you steals the breath right out of his chest.
"i-im close! ah! pleaseplease-"
You pretend to think. "Hm... i don't know. You have been doing good when i was tutoring you though..." Kageyama immediately peeks up at you, face flushed even more and he looks like he's about to cry. How cute.
"i did good, i s-swear!"
"Alright, go ahead then and cum."
And he does. He lets out a moan loud enough that you have to cover his mouth, making sure the neighbors don't hear how much a slut Kageyama is.
He makes a mess all over the floor as his arms fall out from under him. Pulling out of him, you hear him whine as he clenches around nothing.
Oh, you just know he'll come running towards you every single time he needs tutoring from now on.
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ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink
╰┈➤ masterlist | rules
2K notes · View notes
msgexymunson · 2 years
Text
Rumour Part Three: Roles
Description: as you and Eddie establish your relationship, it seems like no one can get in the way of it. Or can they?
Warnings: NSFW minors DNI or I'll poke you with a sharp stick, a trifecta of angst, fluff and smut, male oral receiving, fingering, slight switch dom!older!pierced!eddie x slight switch sub!fem!reader, unprotected sex, slight pain kink
A/N: I'm so glad you lot are enjoying this as much as I enjoy writing it, makes me very happy to see all your comments and reblogs, thank you!! Also I apologise to anyone called Estelle or Matt ;)
❤ If you enjoy this, please reblog the hell out of it, pretty pretty please! ❤
5.6k words
Masterlist     Part 1  Part 2 Part 4 Part 5
Lying in bed with Eddie was everything. It was two in the afternoon, and neither of you wanted to get up just yet. A warm glowing bubble had settled over the both of you and you were loath to break it. Eddie's wearing a pair of black trunks, you're in an oversized t shirt and no pants, since Eddie had pulled them down three times last night and it seemed an exercise in futility to put them on again.
Your legs were tangled together comfortably, like a pair of puzzle pieces finding their perfect match. Stroking your hand over his chest, you were tracing the lines of his tattoos.
"How many do you have? Tattoos I mean," you clarify, circling a devils head and horns just by his mass of chest hair.
"Pass. I've no idea sweet thing. Dozens. A hundred? I dunno." His hand travels to yours, helping you trace around a scorpion on his abdomen, muscles flexing underneath your touch.
"Well, which ones the oldest?"
He shifts to show you his arm. "See these bats?"
You nod, fingers whispering over his skin to rub at the flock of faded bats on his forearm.
"Got them when I was 17. No real reason, just thought they looked metal." He snorted a little laugh at his past self.
You smile at the glimpse of the past he's allowed you to see. Gazing up at him, you ask "what's your favourite one?"
He grins and winks at you. "Oh that's easy. Shift over a little?"
You move backwards a bit whilst he switches positions to lay on his side away from you, displaying his completely tattooed back.
It's the only tattoo he has in colour. A full back piece of a monstrous dragon with five heads, wreathed in flame. The art is incredible, so intricate and beautiful. You run your hands over it, marvelling at the details.
"Its pretty awesome Eddie."
He rolls back over to face you, fingers fluttering over your figure.
"I love it. Its Tiamat, the five headed dragon Goddess, from Dungeons and Dragons."
You laugh, shaking your head. "You nerd."
He chuckles back. "Yup, 'fraid so."
Nuzzling his face into your side, you hear his muffled voice "what time is it?"
Nearly 2:15."
"Urgh, I need to be in the shop at 3:45." He sighs into your shirt, then sits up.
"I'm gonna take a shower." After pecking you on the cheek, he swings his muscular legs off the bed and makes his way to the bathroom.
You sigh in contentment at the empty room, then pad your way out to the kitchen area to make some coffee for the pair of you. Once the pot is done you pour one for yourself.
Busying yourself in the kitchen, seeing if there were enough ingredients to make pancakes, you hear Eddie's voice from the doorway.
"Oh you made coffee, thanks sweets."
"No problem baby- oh."
Well fuck me.
There he stood, completely naked, roughly rubbing a towel through his wet mane of hair. Body glistening, steam rolling off his skin, tattoos darker and gleaming wet. His muscles shone in the light, taunt frame perfectly on display. Damp chest hair dripped deliciously down to his happy trail. Your eyes were inevitably drawn to his impressive length hanging between his legs, slightly pink and heavy looking, piercing glinting, inviting you over.
Glistening in front of you, so effortlessly, he looked like some sort of heathen God. You'd happily get down on your knees and worship him forever.
"What you staring at? Something you like sweet thing?" Eddie tips his head at you, smug smile creeping across his face.
Your mouth is hanging open. Snapping it shut, cheeks glowing, you walk over to him.
"We had sex like, three times last night and you still blush at me naked? You're too cute." He chuckles at you.
He stops laughing when you reach him and drop to your knees, hands trailing up his thighs.
"Woah, pretty girl, what are you doing?"
You take his member into your hands, running your palms over his length, feeling it harden quickly from your soft touches.
"I wanna, I wanna give you head."
He smiles softly at you. "Sweets you don't need to do that."
You keep running your hands over him, one dipping to cup his balls, rolling them gently in your hand. He lets out a shaky breath.
"You always take care of me, you never let me." You frown. "But I want to. Please Eddie?"
He moans, eyes rolling back. "Always so fuckin' polite. Shit."
Running your tongue up the length of his fully hard cock, you cover it with open mouthed kisses, licking and gently sucking at his shaft. Eddie hisses; you hear the towel he was holding flump to the floor, large hand coming to rest on the back of your head, engulfing your hair.
Taking his tip into your mouth, you trace around each cold steel ball with your tongue, swirling around either end of the piercing, swallowing pre cum. Eddie groans loudly, thumb rubbing the back of your head with encouragement.
Rubbing your tongue back and forth over his slit, you use your hands to work his shaft, dribbling spit to help glide across him. His slippery hard length is pulsing in your hands.
"Holy shit, pretty girl, that's- fuck, that's really good."
You moan around him, humming at the praise, doubling your efforts. You need him to come. He makes you feel so good all the time and you need him to know.
Trying your hardest to please him, you take him into your throat as much as you can. Granted, it's only just over halfway down his dick, but from the noises he's making it's enough. You feel the strange bump of steel at the back of your throat. Using your hands for the rest, you stroke him firmly. Each movement conveying just how much he means, how much you want to worship him.
"Oh sweet thing, God that's- oh fuck, hmm." Eddie's lost the power of speech which you take as the highest compliment. He's listening to your prayers.
Releasing him from your mouth, you stroke him with your hand and gently take one of his balls in your mouth, suckling gently, running your tongue all over it. Eddie was clearly not expecting it; you feel his legs shudder and a high pitched whine expel from his mouth. You smirk, taking the other in your mouth for the same treatment whilst firmly stroking his dick, endeavouring to show him your devotion.
"Oh fuck I'm gonna- shit, please- let me cum in your mouth" he's breathless and twitching, flushed red, practically quivering at your reverence.
You take his cock back into his mouth and hollow your cheeks, bobbing up and down his length quickly, squeezing his balls in your hand.
"Oh fuck, I'm, fuck-" as he shoots his load into your mouth. You swallow and swallow around his length, not stopping until he's whimpering, empty, his fill of your worship well and truly taken.
Halting your movements you behold him through damp lashes.
"Was that ok?"
"Fuckin' hell sweet thing, it was a little bit more than ok. Jesus H. Christ, I've got to go to work. Fuck, how am I this lucky?"
You blush and stand up, placing a kiss to his full lips.
"You want your coffee now?"
"Yeah, and a cigarette, before I do anything else." He crumples onto the couch, grabbing the towel to hide his modesty.
You get his coffee, add sugar and creamer, and bring him his cigarettes. Beaming at you, he takes you into his lap.
"What's this all about? Being all sweet to me."
You hide your head in his chest, suddenly shy. No matter how much confidence you portray in the world, the minute you get a look from Eddie it dissolves.
"I dunno, I just, I wanna take care of you Eddie."
He flashes an soft grin and holds you close, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead. "You already have sweet thing."
********************
Later that evening you're wiping down tables at the bar and collecting stray glasses.
"Hey, you may as well go, I'll finish up tonight, it's dead anyway." Your manager shouts over to you.
"Thanks!" You deposit the glasses in the dishwasher, hanging up your apron.
You check the time, 11pm. I wonder if he's still at the shop?
Eddie works late sometimes, he never wants to get up before noon so his client base tended to be night owls like him. Deciding to take the risk, you throw on your jacket and march into the chilly night air, walking the couple of blocks over to the tattoo shop.
Turning the corner, you see the shutters are down but the light is still on upstairs. You give it a minute, stopping to smoke a cigarette that Eddie had pre rolled for you. As you smoke, you hear voices, and a woman's laugh, clear as a bell.
Your stomach drops out from under you. Feeling your heart skipping a sick thud, then rushing blood, faster; faster than should be possible whilst standing still.
Ok calm the fuck down.
You take a breath, trying to calm the anticipated anger that's buzzing in your system and clouding your brain. It's stupid, you know, entirely unwarranted. It doesn't stop your mind leaping to the worst possible outcome.
Suddenly the door swings open and some Hollywoodian goddess swans out the door, all blonde mane, bust and teeth. Eddie walks out with her, giving her an embrace.
"Thanks Eds, you're the best!" She keens; shooting you what can only be described as a Look, then sways off on her too high heels.
"See you sweetheart!" He waves. The nickname forces an angry blush to the tips of your ears. Eddie turns to go back inside, then sees you and looks surprised.
"Hey pretty girl! What you doing here?" His grin is sugary and warm at your unexpected presence, settling the angry rolling feeling in your stomach. The rage is still there; no longer an explosive boil, but a simmer.
"Came to check, see if you were still working. I got off early."
"Come in then sweets, I gotta tidy up before I leave." He takes large strides back inside and you struggle to keep up with him.
Making his way back to his workstation, he's throwing away leftover bottles and paper towels covered in ink splotches, whilst you try and act as normal as possible.
"So, who was that?" Voice quivering ever so slightly as you take your coat off.
"Oh that's Estelle, finished her lower back piece today." He says, not even looking up, removing his gloves.
Ah, tramp stamp, I knew it.
"There's a band playing tomorrow night, at a bar not far from here, she said. Not too heavy, you should like it. What do you think sweet thing?" He looks up at you, eyebrows raised.
"Huh? Oh sure, whatever. Sure she's got great taste,"  Shrugging at him, you look around the walls of the shop at the various artworks hanging up.
"Woah, you being a bit judgy pretty girl?" He smirks.
"Why? She a librarian or something?" You bite back, eyes narrowing.
He laughs, "no she's a stripper."
"Oh course she fucking is," you mumble, cheeks burning.
He perches on the leather chair, arms out. "Hey, c'mere."
You huff, but move closer, allowing yourself to be hugged, arms pinned at your sides.
"What's up, sweetheart?" He brushes your cheek and you flinch, jaw clenching. Concern fills his eyes, brows heavy with confusion.
"Don't call me that. You just called her that."
You see realisation dawn on that stupidly handsome face of his, and his gaze grows softer.
"Oh, pretty girl, are you jealous?"
You look down at your own hands sandwiched between the two of you, unable to meet his eye. A firm grip holds your chin, pulling you to face him, smooth smile with a hint of smirk pervading his features.
"Listen, you have nothing to worry about. That woman's got more silicone in her than a Barbie doll. Not my thing." You giggle slightly, a small smile threatening to push your mouth corners upwards. "I call everyone sweetheart, it's nothing."
You pull away from him, eyes narrowing. "Yeah? Why call me sweetheart then?"
He holds his hand to his chest, miming being hit. "Ooft, you got me there. Force of habit."
He grabs your hand, kissing your knuckles.
"I don't call her sweet thing." He pulls you closer, "or pretty girl." His hands begin stroking up and down your sides. "Those are reserved for you." Slow, soft kisses are planted on your neck. "I don't call her my good girl. I don't call her my girlfriend."
Girlfriend.
He's not asked. And why would he, what are you, twelve?
"I'm your girlfriend?" You look at him with wide eyes and a wobbling lip.
"Well I fuckin' hope so, I've said you are to everyone I've seen today. I think Estelle was pissed at me for not shutting up about you to be honest."
You can't help but giggle triumphantly at that. Staring at him, you look at his neck, the side untouched by tattoos. Mischievous look adorning your features, you bend and kiss into his neck. Softly, at first, so he melts into your touch, then you grip him, and suck.
"Pretty girl, oh fuck, what are you doing?"
You release his neck with a wet suck, looking pleased with the purplish mark that's beginning to blossom.
"Marking my territory."
He puffs out a laugh "oh my little jealous girl," and strokes your head.
Somehow that's makes you madder. You're not a jealous girl. You're a woman.
You shove him a little. "Lie back."
He smirks at you, but he listens, lying fully in the reclined tattoo chair, eyes trying to work out your next move.
Clambering on top of him, you tug at the hem of his t shirt. He pulls it over his head, exposing his torso. You run your fingers down, finding spots to suck bruises into, taking small mouthfuls of whatever exposed, ink free skin you can find.
"What you doing sweet thing?" He chuckles.
"I'm trying to find blank bits to hickey!"
He laughs out loud at your frustrations. Until you sink your teeth into his soft flesh.
"Oh pretty- oh fuck!" He practically yelps, hips thrusting upwards.
You gaze down at him, taking in his flushed cheeks, round eyes and heaving chest.
Oh.
"Wait, does that turn you on?" You raise your eyebrow at him, fingertips ghosting his sides. 
"Is it that much of a stretch to think I've got a thing for pain?" He says it confidently, gesturing to his inky body whilst cockily smirking; yet this appears masked, false. Looking in his eyes you can tell how much you've affected him
Not saying anything, you merely pinch one of his nipples and twist it lightly. Eddie's mouth falls open, pretty little moan escaping those full lips, eyebrows knitted.
Grinning deviously, you bend over him and take the other nipple into your mouth, rolling your tongue around it, before nipping at it and pulling with your teeth.
"Jesus H. Christ! Fuck."
You look up at him. Eddie's flushing the prettiest pink colour, mouth practically drooling, eyelids heavy with lust. You've never seen him like this before, losing control. Wait, that's not it. He's relinquishing control, giving himself to you.
You stand up and he huffs at the loss of contact, until you begin stripping off your clothes. He hurriedly pulls his jeans and boxers down, not even bothering to take them off, just bunching them at his ankles. His dick looks painfully hard, almost dribbling, angry red at the tip. Swinging your leg back over you straddle him, sliding your pussy over his length, back and forth. Your nails drag harder down his chest than you ever would have dared before, leaving scarlet paths joining up his inked frame. He bucks, shaking underneath. You continue to glide your sopping heat over him, grinding over the shaft, relishing the tingle of his piercing when it flits over your clit.
"Please, sweet thing." His whole demeanour has changed, begging you, pleading with you. An idea pops into your brain.
Leaning forward, you whisper low and quiet in his ear, "are you gonna be a good boy for me?" The low groan he releases resonates from his chest and into yours, firm hands coming to settle on your hips.
You take his hard length in your hands and guide him into you, slipping gently onto him inch by inch. No matter how many times, it still feels like the first time. Your face scrunches up, discomfort evident.
"You ok sweets?" Eddie's rubbing your hip in consolation.
"Yeah, just... really fuckin' big baby."
He smirks, as always. "Never get tired of hearing that."
Stroking your hands down his chest, you hold onto his sides firmly, possessively, rocking into him. Each movement, each flick of your hips produces a ripple of pleasure. You grind down, rocking hard, back and forth, building up the rhythm, the pressure in your stomach building, your throbbing want intensifying.
Once you start bouncing up and down Eddie's done for. You see his face, desperately trying to keep some measure of control whilst he stares at your tits bouncing right in front of him, at his dick being swallowed up by your hungry cunt.
The noise of squelching sex surrounds you, moans and whines adding to the pornographic soundtrack. You can tell Eddie's barely holding it together, as he quickly reaches for your clit, rubbing almost vicious circles, eager for you to come before he does.
The tell tale tingle grips hold of you, a buzzing through your core and up your spine. The shattering of nerves; a delivery of white hot light spills from his fingertips and into your being, filling you to the brim with his rapture.
You throw your head back at the intense feeling, letting out whimpers of devotion to him, rocking back and forth, willing the moment to continue. You're barely aware of his own release, only realising when you finally snap your eyes open to see his slam shut, tensing beneath you, letting go in a gun shot, tension ripped from his body by your gripping walls.
Leaning forward, hot panting breaths mingling with each others, you press your lips into a searing kiss.
In between pants, Eddie manages, "not that I mind, but fuck, what's gotten into you today, pretty girl?" He chuckles, stroking your cheek with a rough thumb pad.
"You're mine." You simply say, protective hand laid onto the middle of his chest, over his heart. He grips your hand in his, and smiles.
********************
The next evening you're perching on a stool at a moderately busy bar, twisting a napkin in your hands. Nerves have you in their grip whilst you wait for Eddie to arrive, bubbling away in your tummy. It seems strange, but this is technically your second date, the first being when he took you to lunch. Eddie hadn't exactly courted you, he claimed you. If you were honest with yourself, you were his the first time he laid eyes on you.
Still wanting to impress him, you'd decided to dress up. Kitted out in a short black dress with a cute cherry pattern, lower cut than you would usually dare, fishnet hold ups and ankle boots, you were confident he would be pleased.
You had certainly attracted the attention of a few men dotted around the bar, lone sharks circling. Paying them no mind, you sipped your drink and waited on Eddie.
It was a pretty decent looking place, certainly nicer than the dive where you worked. The ceilings were high, with huge light fixtures hanging almost like art pieces, letting out twinkling light, bathing the crowd in spots of colour, sparkling on the red linoleum floor. The atmosphere was buzzing with anticipation for the upcoming band, people smiling, waving at friends, rushing back and forth to the bar to get drinks. You sat on a stool at the end of the bar, neatly tucked in a corner. The light was good here, and it was opposite the main entrance, perfect for spotting Eddie when he eventually got here.
Looking up to check the door again you lock eyes with another man. He smiles and starts walking over.
Well that's typical.
You roll your eyes, but as he gets closer, you breathe a sigh of relief. It's one of the regulars at your bar. At least you may not have to wait for Eddie alone.
"Hey Matt!" You smile as he walks over, giving you a brief hug.
"Hey darlin! Never see you in here, you're always working!" He grins at you. Matt always chatted to you when you were on shift, checking how you were doing. Objectively, he was a handsome guy. Broad shouldered, with a mop of messy ashen blonde hair and perfect teeth. He looked like he was around his mid twenties, and definitely a former jock judging by his physique.
You usually saw him with his girlfriend, an almost frightening replica of him in female form. In your head you'd nicknamed them the Cheer Clones since they reminded you so much of the cheerleaders in your high school.
"Where's-" don't say cheer clone, don't say cheer clone, shit what's her name-
"Jessie? We broke up." He frowns, looking down for a second, then waves at the bar tender.
"Oh, so sorry to hear that, you ok?" You pat his arm in consolation.
"I'll be ok, really. You want a drink?"
"Sure, bourbon and soda please."
He orders and pays for the round, sitting on the bar stool next to you.
"So, hot date?" He asks, waggling his eyebrows.
You giggle, hiding your face in your hands, "yeah how did you know?"
"Er, girl, you live in jeans! He must be pretty special." He grins at you.
You flush at the mere thought of Eddie. You can't deny, these past few weeks had been pretty spectacular.
"Wow, you've got it bad, huh? Pleased for you." He says, sipping his beer, looking just over your shoulder and flashing a small smile.
Before you can turn, an arm is thrown over your shoulder; rough stubble and soft lips touch your forehead.
"Sorry I'm late, sweet thing."
"Eddie!" You smile, looking up at him, but his stony glare is cemented on Matt.
"Baby, this is Matt, he comes to my bar. Matt this is Eddie, my boyfriend." You gesture between the two.
Matt sticks his hand out. Eddie looks at it briefly as if it offends him, before staring back at Matt's eyes.
"Pleasure to meet you." Matt puts his hand down but still flashes a winning smile at Eddie.
"Yeah, nice to meet you too Mike." And he motions his hand at the bar tender, immediately getting his attention and ordering a beer, arm never leaving your shoulders.
"Its Matt, actually-"
"Yeah, sure thing champ." Eddie says dismissively, slaps a note down to pay for the beer, and nearly drags you to your feet.
"Bands about to start, let's go my pretty girl."
You move, being pulled by the wrist, and mouth a 'sorry' at Matt. He just smiles and salutes you as you go past.
Eddie stops once you are free from Matt's gaze, stepping back to pull your arm in the air above you, making you turn for him so he can admire your outfit. You cannot help but admire his.
Eddie's dressed up for you. The first thing that grabs your attention and refuses to let go is the fact that your very sexy boyfriend is wearing eyeliner. That fact alone has you weak at the knees.
He's wearing a black button down, undone to the point of unholiness, exposing his chest tattoos and a thin silver chain just kissing the tops of his pecs. His black jeans are tight, hugging every muscle, leading down to chunky army boots. There's no other way to describe it; he exudes sex. It's as if every fibre of him was made to ooze this animalistic aura; you could nearly smell it in the air.
"You look really great Eddie."
Meeting his eyes, you see his pupils are blown, drinking in every ounce of your figure with blasphemous intention.
"Sweet thing, you look incredible." He pulls you close to wrap his arms around you. "Remind me never to let you wait for me inside a bar again." 
You laugh, love drunk eyes roaming his face, "you jealous Mr Munson?"
He kisses you full on the lips, a fiery kiss, hot and messy in its delivery, tongue chasing yours. When he breaks away, you lean forward in hope, missing the contact.
"Why should I be? I already have you." He winks, then pulls you so your back is flush to his chest, manoeuvring you both to face the band who have just come on stage.
The band are indeed decent, and pretty soon the heady atmosphere, the bourbon, and the warm glow of Eddie's arms around you have you grinning and swaying to the music. You're moving your hips, ass against Eddie, enjoying the moment.
Eddie's large hands never leave you. If he's not wrapping his arms around your neck, he's holding you protectively by the hips, keeping you close to him. If anyone in the crowd got too close or rowdy, he was there, keeping you safe.
The band takes a break and Eddie whips you around to face him, hands rubbing up and down your sides, predatory gaze fixed on you.
"If you're gonna keep dancing like that pretty girl, I may just have to take you home." He smiles, biting his lip.
"Hmm, I think you can wait a couple hours." You throw your arms around his neck and press a kiss to his lips.
"Ok, I'm gonna go to the bathroom," he fishes out a note from his pocket and hands it to you, "go grab us some drinks on me."
You take the money and peck him again, scooting your way back over to the busy bar.
The crowd has merged and flowed, making their way to the bar, dam about to burst with the influx of people wanting the same thing.
You queue, waiting for service, when you notice a friendly face next to you.
"Hey Matt, how's your evening going?" You say, touching his arm.
"Great thanks, the bands really good. Look, sorry if I upset your boyfriend there."
You giggle and roll your eyes "don't worry about it."
"Seriously, I didn't mean to offend him I just-"
Suddenly, Matt has disappeared and you are staring at Eddie's torso.
"Come here sweets. Say goodbye to Mark."
You here a small voice say "it's Matt, actually-"
"Whatever kid" Eddie growls, leading you away from the bar.
"Eddie, what are you doing I haven't even got drinks yet-"
"Just come with me."
You allow yourself to be lead, pulled helplessly by the wrist. Eddie snakes around the crowd, leading you past the backstage area and into a small bathroom. It's strange that he seems to know the layout of the place so well. You stop him in his tracks, annoyed by his behaviour.
"Eddie, seriously what's up with you? You know I'm not just gonna leave you right?" Soft eyes meet his.
"I know sweet thing," and he presses you against the wall so fast it makes your head spin.
"I just need everyone else to know that."
Without further warning his hand is stroking up your thigh, fingers grazing your clothed pussy. Given his urgency, his clear need for you, his touch is soft. His other hand snakes to the back of your neck, forcing eye contact. The eyeliner only focuses how intensely he looks at you, dark circles drawing you in.
"Can I make you feel good sweet thing?" Fingertips fondling your heat, hot breath asphyxiating. Eddie overwhelms you, exuding heat, passion making it difficult to breathe.
"Yeah" you manage breathily, devastated by his presence, trying to keep some semblance of self. It's so difficult to when Eddie tears you apart by simply being there, in your space.
Rough fingertips pull your underwear aside and massage across your slit, finding your clit immediately. Your breath catches in your throat, shock of delectation pervading your senses.
Eddie slides two thick fingers deep inside you making you gasp. He rocks them into you, setting a ruthless rhythm, eyes never leaving yours.
"Now, I'm going to make you come pretty girl, twice in a row, and you're gonna enjoy it, ok?"
You mumble some semblance of yes, ability to concentrate considerably lessened by the sure movements of his hand. He curls his digits into you, hitting the spot inside you that makes your toes curl inside your boots.
"Eddie, fuck, yes" you keen and writhe against the wall, eye contact stripping you of any modesty, any thought.
Eddie's relentless movements continue as he sucks bruises onto the tops of your breasts, purple colouring blossoming against your chest, a blooming floral display of blood soaked skin.
"Oh my God Eddie," you moan, his sure hands coaxing pure bliss from your core, sopping wet noise of your arousal echoing through the small space.
"That guy out there, your friend, what's his name?" Eddie's eyes bore into yours, hand not stopping.
You're pulled out of the pleasure pit he's thrown you into, visibly confused. "You- you mean Matt? He's just-"
Eddie doubles his efforts, curling his fingers into you harder, palm rubbing hard against your clit, reigniting the fire in your belly.
"Oh my God Eddie, fuck-" you grind yourself unabashedly against his thick fingers, immense feeling towering over you, threatening to topple at his very command.
"You gonna come pretty girl? My pretty girl?" He says, dark eyes piercing into your very soul, "come then, come on my fucking fingers."
His gravelly voice and confident manoeuvres are pushing you over that edge, emphasis on his swear word singing through your nerves and into your cunt. Unable to process such feeling, such unbridled ardour, you moan loudly into the air without a care of who could hear you.
Your release pushes through you with all the force of a natural disaster. Whipping through your soul like a hurricane of sensation, cunt throbbing with the complexity of feeling. It rips away any insecurities, making you moan as loud as your body needs without fear of repercussion.
But it doesn't stop, not yet. Eddie's not through with you. His movements continue, coaxing you through the orgasm and into the other side, relentless and unabating.
"Fuck Eddie, please, its too much-"
Eddie's free hand grips your chin, forcing you to make eye contact with him.
"Do you want me to stop." The question is real, but your commitment waivers, enjoying the relentless hold he has on your pussy.
"No, please-" you moan, your flower continuing to open to him, flesh yielding and soft as putty in his hands. A fuzz settles over your brain; you mind clouded, filled with Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Your eyes roll back, unable to control your gaze. Eddie shakes you lightly by the chin, forcing you back to reality.
"So what's that guy's name?"
You look at him through damp lashes, tears building in the corners of your eyes, utterly incapable of speech.
"I said, what's that guy's name?"
"Eddie, fuck I- wha?" Words a slur, body limp against the wall; the only thing keeping you upright is the burly hand firmly between your legs, fingers deep inside; your Eddie's marionette.
"Good girl. That's what I thought." Eddie smiles smugly, running his thumb over your clit in swift motions, fingers continually hitting that spot inside you.
Your second release feels even more powerful than the first, ripping a passionate whine from your throat. The noises you're making are incomprehensible as your whole body seizes up and your slick shoots out, coating Eddie's hand, your thighs, and even the floor.
"Jesus fucking Christ you are the devil." It comes out as a rush, almost one word.
Laughing deviantly, Eddie moves his hand and you nearly crumple to the floor. He catches you, pushing you against the wall with his body. Your eyes are drawn to the deep v in his shirt, to his inky muscled chest.
"Eddie?" You look at him and he stares back, faces impossibly close.
"Yes sweet thing?"
"You've ruined my underwear."
He laughs deeply. "What can I say, it's a talent. Can I take you home my little super soaker?"
You flush with embarrassment, hot cheeks aflame. "Eddie!"
Straightening your clothes and attempting to sort your hair out, you look down, taking in your love bitten chest for the first time. Purple red welts adorn the swell of your breasts in a low necklace of ownership. You'd be mad at him if it didn't make you throb inside.
He leads you back to the bar and towards the main entrance, attempting to get you home as quickly as possible to finish what he's started, when you're stopped in your tracks by cloud of perfume and blonde hair.
"Hey Eds!"
"Hey Estelle, you good? This is my girlfriend I told you about."
You smile at her dutifully, and spot a familiar face yet again, hovering by, his eyes trained on the marks on your chest.
"Estelle, nice to meet you! Hey, have you met Mark?" You gesture at him to move closer while Eddie snickers next to you.
He sticks his hand out to her "it's Matt actually."
Oops. 
Masterlist
Tag list part 1- rest will be in the comments
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tiredcreatur3 · 1 year
Note
what are dilf toji’s kinks?
oh that’s an awesome question, thank u!!
i think he’d definitely love breeding and the feeling oh having no protection, the chance of getting you pregnant and also filling you up nice and good.
spitting turns him the fuck on, loves when you spit on his cock, giving him a nice and sloppy head and vice versa. spitting in your mouth, kissing you messily while being inside you.
very biggggg on giving praise and just making sure that you know how well you’re doing, calling you his good little girl while your pussy stretches around his cock in the morning, your sleepy whines only edging him on to continue.
of course, he loves degrading and insulting the fuck out of you but sometimes after a long day, he just wants to come home to you, finger you and call you all sort of good things. doesn’t even need you to pleasure him too, he’s all content with seeing you curled up to his side, trembling and falling asleep after having your panties pushed to the side and cunt wet and taken care of.
or having the worst size kink ever, loving the fact that he was all big and strong and you were such a cute lil thing, oh he loved it so fucking much. he’d throw you over your shoulder whenever he wants, the size difference just getting him all hot and bothered, seeing your pretty self under him, taking his cock so fucking well, his hands on your tiny lil waist. he’d just love to ruin you and yet he’d be so so so careful with you, treating you like a small fragile flower.
definitely into breeding that sweet lil cunt of yours, loves when he can just dump his load inside you, makes him all hot and bothered when you allow him to do so, coming hard and always telling you how fucking grateful he is for you, babbling about how he hopes that he’ll get you pregnant soon, knowing you’d be the best mother to his child.
LOVES fucking your face while you give him a nice sloppy head. sometimes he’s just in the mood to let you suck him off lazily and sometimes he doesn’t let you breathe for a second and fucks your throat until you’re only a little gagging and drooling mess between his legs, eyes rolled back and teary as he’d finish inside your mouth, pulling you away by your hair and letting you finally get some air into your lungs, admiring how destroyed you’d look each time.
i feel like he’s not that kinky of a motherfucker but SO eager to try anything and everything with his pretty lady.
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h-didanart · 3 months
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It was quiet.
And empty.
Very empty.
Way too empty.
He didn’t like the emptiness.
For starters he probably should be in way more pain than he is right now. And then there was the whole fire and sin theme missing from this place, making it a lot boringer than he was expecting.
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So he was confused, to that he’ll admit. He hadn’t even seen whatever-the-hell-that-was coming! It was just- poof! Dead. Probably. More than likely.
Hell, that half an hour had just been those idiots debating on who gets to kill him, of course he’s dead! It would’ve been so funny to see the crazed moon fail at whether-the-hell he was doing. Or been an awesome way to die, who knows, it’s not like he can go back and ask that guy to shoot him with magic again.
Whatever, he was bored. Very bored.
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Checking his limbs, all of them there. Could he move? Yes he could.
For an afterlife of eternal torment this didn’t seem much like torment. He just got to live in some white void or whatever. Oh maybe that was the torment, being bored in death, creative if anticlimactic.
And then a sound.
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Imminent danger, a threat, newcomer, invader, something— he turned around towards the sound, fully ready to fight.
And then he froze.
Because that face— that wasn’t— he— holy shit
Holy shit
He didn’t like the pile of feelings dumped on him. He didn’t like it at all. It was like a rock bashed into his chest, but the rock was on fire and also weighed as much as an anvil.
He… he… knew those eyes. Better than the back of his hand. And that hat, those clothes, the godforsaken fluff surrounding that face. He didn’t register the damages, but they were extensive he’s broken in the ground, Monty reaches for his neck— they were so extensive. But the eyes hadn’t changed.
He hadn’t changed.
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His brother…
His brother.
He stood there. It was all moving so fast, but also slow, there were a billion thoughts in his head. He could feel warmth building up on his face.
His brother looked at him, then down to himself. Oh. He was missing a leg. Never had he thought he’d feel disgust at seeing an injury. Clearly he had to be the one to get closer. And so he took a step forward. And another.
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And then he was running.
He knew there was a smile on his face, he didn’t care. He knew the feelings were building up, he also didn’t care. All he wanted was to get to him.
And he did. The twins collided, he lifted his other up and spun a few times.
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Fuck.
It had been so long. So goddamn long.
He remembers the last hug they had, the last interaction they had, his last view of him the screen is wound back he dares not look back— it had been an eternity. Agonizing eternity. He didn’t think he could’ve taken it had it lasted longer.
He missed him.
So fucking much.
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He didn’t care that he was crying. He didn’t care that he was sobbing, wailing even.
To hell with self consciousness.
To hell with humiliation.
To hell with this place.
To hell with revenge.
To hell with the world.
To hell with blood.
None of that mattered in the now.
His world was finally complete again.
And he will never lose him again.
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