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dxxdhood · 2 months

Text

drains me slowly

pairing: wade wilson x gn!reader

summary: deadpool finally invites you, the coworker he has a massive crush on, over, which means the two of you end up doing more than just watching a movie.

tags: smut (18+), sub!wade wilson, dom!reader, pain kink, use of superpowers to fuel a pain kink, light masochism, teasing, gentle dom, hand job, scratching, body worship

wc: 3.3k

a/n: fic inspired by the new deadpool movie coming out!!! also, title is from love me dead by ludo.

No surprise that Wade wasn’t exactly anyone’s favorite– that goes for among the heroes he’s worked with and throughout his life in general. He’s – to put it in the kindest way anyone’s ever told him – fucking annoying. Oh, he’s more than aware that he’s a little too out-of-pocket, abrasive, impulsive– a nightmare to interact with, really. And those were just the recent comments made by the closest thing he has to coworkers! The shit he heard from people growing up was leagues worse.

Look, having a rough start in life isn’t uncommon and he’s sure as hell not gonna get the tiny violin out for himself and throw his own little pity party, but he’s grown enough since his healing factor got beat out of him to acknowledge that he’s had it tough over the years.

He’s still going, though! Yeah, he may not always be the best at doing his laundry quick enough to get any clean clothes to wear, or at stopping his room from becoming cluttered with too many half-empty water bottles, but he’s still making it by, day by day.

But, well, it’s still really hard to constantly put himself out there, get assigned – or infinitely more likely, just shove himself into – whatever jobs or missions he feels like taking on when everyone treats him like Jar Jar Binks.

That was until you came along. So, obviously you’re crazy hot – he’s gotta get that out of the way first – but more than that, you were confident. Competent, too, and those rarely coincide in Wade’s experience. You mostly worked on call, joining the occasional mission, battle, or investigation because your mutant powers came in handy often, but you also still kept up with your day job. Honestly, Wade thinks the reason why you weren’t always present in fights was to stop the other mutants from being out of a job. Your ability to slowly deteriorate surrounding biological tissue, while horrifying and a pain in the ass to control – your words – was basically winning on easy mode.

But no, you were adamant about keeping your involvement with the X-Men infrequent– only joining when your presence was absolutely necessary. Apparently nonstop high stress situations aren't good for your mental health– who knew?

And he wants to pretend he became obsessed with you because of all those things, and of course they helped, but really, you had him at hello. Or well, you bothering to say hello and actually talk to him in the first place, to ask him questions about his life in moments of downtime where usually he’d be left with an unenthusiastic audience instead of a warm-hearted listener who actually laughed at his jokes.

So, of course, he has to go and fuck it up.

…

“So, glad that’s over, huh?” Wade says through a smile, the whites of his mask squeezing as his cheeks rise. “Speaking of over, you wanna come?”

“Over?” you shake your head a little, flashing your teeth as you try and comprehend him. “Right after we took on a whole crime ring?”

“Well, what a better time to unwind, am I right?”

“Oh?” you raise your eyebrows. “We’re unwinding?”

It’s small, but you swear Wade ups his talking speed, “Well, yeah, you know. Watch a movie, order in, show you my Pokemon cards, the works.”

You hum, pretending to consider it, “Depends, you got a holo Charizard?”

And now, for sure, he exhales his relief. “You insult me.”

The two of you enter his apartment not long after you’re dismissed from the mission, and Wade briefly excuses himself to change out of his suit. Making yourself at home, you take a seat on the couch and glance across his living room. His apartment is surprisingly nice. The kitchen and living room are one large, open space with a sleek, modern design. Also, you’d assume someone as chaotic as Wade would keep their house in a messier state, or hell, at least a little dusty, but the living room is spotless. Maybe he cleaned recently? What, was he planning on inviting someone over?

Snorting as you shake your head, a small click from across the hall catches your attention.

You’ve only seen Wade on the job, so naturally he’s always been wearing his red suit, but for some reason, you never stopped to picture him wearing civilian clothes. Actually, now that you’re seeing him in a sweatshirt and sweatpants – awfully warm for this weather – you’re struggling to reconcile the image of him you had in your head with the person right in front of you.

Well, at least until Wade brings up a fist to cover his mouth, illustrating his nervousness, and the tension fizzles out. Only Wade has body language that cartoonishly exaggerated.

“Nice sweats, green looks good on you.”

Wade pauses for a moment, registering your words before he giggles softly, arm falling to his side, “I’ve been thinking about changing the color of my suit. You know, hiding all the blood is great and all, but sometimes I gotta wonder – could this thing be more flattering?”

He walks over with a spring in his step before sitting by your side. Cutely, he wraps you up in the larger blanket first before settling the smaller, throw blanket over himself. You try your hardest not to show your confusion outwardly, but seeing Wade up close now has you questioning his outfit all the more.

He’s a bit tall, so the sweatpants don’t go all the way down to his ankles, but Wade’s wearing calf socks, as if he specifically were trying to avoid them being uncovered. Also, his hoodie’s easily a size or two larger, which makes it the perfect thing to wear to lounge around and watch a movie in, but also, the sleeves cover his entire hand sans his fingers. From the little you can see of them, they look puckered in scars.

But obviously Wade’s hands are scarred– he’s a mercenary. He’s handled all sorts of weapons and been in hundreds of fights over the years. You weren’t expecting his skin to be baby-smooth.

What’s interesting to you is why he’d go through all the trouble to hide it.

Also, yeah, the most obvious pointers were that the hood of his sweatshirt is up even though you two are indoors in his own home and – how could you forget this one – his Deadpool mask is still on.

Was he just uncomfortable with sharing his identity in general or was he specifically trying to shove distance between the two of you? Whatever, if he doesn’t want to take his mask off with you, he doesn’t have to. You feel a distinct pang in your chest, but you try not to let it color how you respond to him. He’s more than in the right to only share what he feels most comfortable with.

Wade’s been fiddling with the remote while you’ve been – hopefully – subtly looking him over, and the screen finally changes from a streaming service page to the opening of the movie.

“We’re watching The Princess Bride? I didn’t take you for a romantic.”

He bats his eyes – at least, you think he does, given the mask– and speaks in a sweet voice “Why, me? Oh please, I know romance. I’m not going to invite a lovely, gorgeous, incredible person over and force them to watch Die Hard on the first–”

His back straightens out like he’s been electrocuted before he forcibly relaxes his posture to finish his thought.

“Hang-out.”

Okay, you want to go easy on him, especially because he seems so tense, but you can’t just let that one slide. You close the small distance remaining between the two of you, causing your entire side to press against his. Even through his sweatshirt, you can feel how warm he is.

“Mmm, just a hang out?” you mumble, sliding your head onto his shoulder. You’ve done this before, either for comedic effect or just in an attempt to push his buttons the same way he always tries to push yours – which, despite his best efforts, always ends up endearing him to you instead of bothering you – but never in a context like this.

He inhales sharply, and you count the seconds until he finally lets himself release it. Sometimes, you think he takes his healing factor for granted.

Turning his head to peer down at you, Wade considers you for a moment, keeping his face and body language deceptively neutral. You try your hardest to keep your eyes focused on the movie and your body loose and comfortable.

“You want this to be a date?” he says, flat.

“Why, thank you for asking, dear sir,” you copy his sweet voice from earlier before returning to your normal. “Yes, Wade, I like you.”

“I–” he starts, but the words get caught on their way out. His fingers bury themselves in the material of his sweatpants, and the movement draws your attention to them again. Shades of blotchy red and pink curve all across his skin.

Wade doesn’t say anything, which is concerning enough on its own, but following your confession, you feel like he’s more than out of his element.

“That’s why you invited me over, right?” you try and help him out. “You feel the same, too.”

And then, feeling bold, you turn your head to face his still mask-covered head and kiss him lightly on the cheek. Instantly, you see fireworks go off inside him, because Wade hurriedly shuts the TV off and runs off to close the blinds. There’s barely enough light in the room now to make out shapes, but apparently Wade doesn’t take any issue because he peels his mask back and kisses you on the lips.

His lips are textured, and your intuition flashes quietly in the back of your mind, but for right now, you focus on how energetic he is. If his body is warm, his mouth feels like it’s on fire. He’s constantly moving, trying to experience all of you as fast as possible.

It’s making your face heat up, how quickly he demands your complete attention and how relentless he is in grabbing it. Wade bites your bottom lip, causing you to gasp into him, and he uses the opportunity to explore across your own teeth and tongue. After a few more seconds, you break away, needing the space to breathe.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, voice rough.

“You’re telling me,” Wade coughs out. “We could’ve been doing that this whole time?”

“Well, all you had to do was ask.”

And although you can’t see him, which you know is the point, you understand something in him has shifted. He gets up from the couch, takes you by the hand, and leads you towards his room. His pace is so quick, you barely comprehend his actions until you’re both standing right in front of his bed.

“Is this okay?” he asks, quiet. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him stifle the amount of words he let loose before.

“Yes, of course it is. But Wade, we have to turn on at least a lamp or something in here.”

“We do?”

“Yeah,” you pause to give him a second to think. “I can’t see you at all like this.”

“What if – and you're just going to have to trust me on this one – you’d prefer it this way,” Wade’s voice is light, but it feels like it’s cracking at the edges.

“And why’s that?”

Not like you’d be able to see, but the anxiety radiating off of him makes him sound wide-eyed, “Huh? Oh, I– uh…”

“Look, if you’re worried about how I’m going to react to you having a bunch of scars– don’t. I don’t mind,” the sound of fabric rustling in front of you makes you think he just flinched. “I figured it out. You’re not sneaky.”

“You say that, but…”

“Wade, I don’t care. And I mean that kindly! Really, it doesn’t bother me.”

Wade starts pacing in front of you, nearly tripping on the leg of the bedpost, “Look, I appreciate the whole hero act you got going on here – really fits you good, you should totally quit your day job – but you don’t have to force yourself, I–”

“Wade, you either confront your insecurities head on or I’m not doing this with you. I told you what I think, the only person who’s going to worry about how you look here is you. We either have sex with a light on or not at all, okay?”

No one speaks for a few seconds once you finish saying your piece, and you cringe, realizing how forceful you must have come off. You’re about to speak up again to apologize when you hear a shudder-filled exhale from a few feet away.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he groans. “You’re so hot when you're putting people in their place.”

Your lips curl into a shaky smile, “Yeah, what else do you think is hot?”

And you can practically hear the gears turning in his head from here.

…

It’s actually happening. No fucking way he didn’t dream this up. But you were pretty adamant about him getting his head in the game in order for you guys to actually get down and dirty, so for you, he tries to keep his train of thought as focused as possible– a big ask.

“Bossing anyone – everyone, especially me – around. You using your abilities–” you reach over and find Wade’s hand before running your fingers up his arm. “Shit, umm, using your abilities in general, but, umm, I really like when I’m there.”

“Oh?” you giggle. “When you get to watch, or?”

“When I get to feel.”

Your hand moves over to the nape of his neck, reaching under his hood and mask, to rub at his rough skin. Wade’s nerves light on fire as he waits for you to respond– for some reason, it never feels like your words come out fast enough.

“You got a thing for pain, Wilson?”

He chuckles, “You’d be surprised.”

“Okay, but are you sure? I can try, but it might not be all that good for you.”

“Don’t worry,” he thinks back to all those times he had a hard on while the two of you were fighting together. “It’ll be great for me.”

You hum, “Alright, then, but you tell me to stop the second you don’t like something, okay?”

“Aye, aye, captain,” he salutes, though you probably can’t see it. “And, same goes for you.”

“What a gentleman, letting me destroy him and giving me an out.”

He’s blushing something furious and he’s never been more grateful for the dark, “Anything for you.”

Those are the last words he whispers before he begins undressing. He knows you probably meant for him to strip with the light on, but he’s really not so sure he could stomach being looked at like a bug under a microscope. The attention, while electrifying, was already starting to get to him, so he lets himself stay in his comfort zone a little longer. As a treat.

Once his sweats are off, he hesitantly peels off his mask before slipping into bed, keeping most of his body under the covers. After shutting his eyes, he clicks the lamplight on.

You’re not saying anything. That’s– a sign? A good one, a bad one, Wade doesn’t know. He’s trying so hard to keep his breathing steady, but he can feel his body start shaking all on its own.

You join him on the bed, kneeling next to him, before your warm breath falls across his cheeks as you kiss his forehead. Only then does he open his eyes, and you reward him by cupping his cheek in your hand.

“There,” you say. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Wade gets the strong urge to snort, and so he does, but your eyes narrow. There’s a soft scratching at the back of his skull as you snake your hand over, and quickly you dig your nails in slightly. Wade has to bite his tongue to keep the noise in.

“I’m sorry, is that funny to you?”

“No!” he whispers sharply as you bring your hand down to scratch along the line of his neck.

“Good, seems like you’re learning.”

You kiss him, teeth clacking together at first before Wade melts into it. Your hand is still slowly exploring his body, running along the line of his shoulder and towards his upper arm. When you reach his bicep, you very obviously squeeze the muscle there, and you let out a pleased sigh as you begin groping in earnest.

He wants to turn to hide his face in the pillow, not sure how to react to all the positive attention and appreciation, but you catch him trying to turn away, and you kiss him deeper.

While one hand begins to explore his pecs and abs, your other hand scratches down his v-line, softly caressing the skin of his inner thighs before moving around to squeeze his ass.

Wade rewards you with a small whine, and you carefully trail a finger down his dick. You move in to whisper in his ear, “You’re so hot, I’m not forgiving you for hiding for so long.”

Trying to stifle the embarrassing moan that he knows will come out, he bites down on his lip hard, but you take the hand not teasing his cock to gently pry his lip away.

“From now on, I get to hear you, okay?” you say and Wade nods rapidly.

You take the moment you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and after giving him a second to ready himself, you ask, “I’m going to use it now. Tell me if you want to stop.”

“Okay–” he responds before he feels the sweet sensation of you jerking him off coupled with your power. It’s a humming, dull feeling of pain resting in the background– almost like the sensation of being choked except it’s affecting his entire body. Wade feels like there’s a weight pinning down each of his limbs and it’s so freeing– so relaxing.

He sighs and turns his head to the side, letting out a deep moan when you up the pace of your hand and bring the other to fondle his balls.

“How is it?” you ask, sweat dripping down your brow at trying to control your ability. Sure, it’s powerful and at times pretty horrifying, but Wade always loved how he was essentially immune. At the same rate you could destroy the flesh around you, he could heal his own right back. Just knowing that made him feel good, somehow, like he was made perfectly for you.

“It’s good– so good, I–” he nearly shouts, forgetting about the neighbors.

“Yeah, baby? What do you need?”

At hearing the pet name, he straight up whines as he tries to bury his hands in the sheets instead of his own thighs.

“Not sure, umm, a little more–”

And he doesn’t know which god he has to thank for putting you on this planet, but he’s willing to pay them all a visit. You read him like he’s not some mess, some walking disaster nobody bothers paying attention to, and you give him what you know he needs.

From the base of his chin, you drag your hand in a deep scratch across his neck, chest, and stomach, your eyes watching the pink lines blend in with his scarred skin. It’s a flashing pain, sharp like being scalded and it feels so good mixed with the blunt feel of being under your power.

“I’m gonna–” he says, and of course, you seem to already know. He cums with a deep grunt, rutting his hips into your fist before he thrusts his head forward to kiss you again.

As soon as he comes down, he pulls away only slightly, just so he can say what he’s been wanting to say since he met you.

“Thank–”

You cut him off with another kiss, because sometimes, he really does need to shut up.

#deadpool #wade wilson #deadpool smut #wade wilson smut #deadpool x reader #deadpool x gn! reader #wade wilson x reader #wade wilson x gn! reader #marvel #marvel smut #dom reader #sub character #gn reader #smut #deadpool x you #wade wilson x you

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kamiraaah · 22 days

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TWST PARENTS! Trappola, Hunt and Ashengrotto!!

⚠️⚠️First of all, I must warn you that these designs may change in the future, either because the game presented us with the official designs, or just because I really wanted to change... Or I could reuse these designs for these characters!⚠️⚠️ Given that warning...

Guys, gals, and non-binary pals. I present to you, the Trappola, Hunt, and Ashengrotto families!

The Trappolas it's a very common family, compared to others. Of course, Ace Trappola and his brother get into a lot of trouble and face their mother's anger very often... But hey! It's good that they have their father to calm things down when things escalate, right? It may not seem like it, but Mrs. Trappola in her youth was just like Ace, always getting into trouble and facing authorities without thinking twice… Which led to many fights with Ace's grandmother. Mr. Trappola, on the other hand, rarely started fights, at least physical ones. Since he has a sharp tongue, always with some offense or something to irritate the other person. Both Ace and his brother inherited these traits from their parents… Although the older one is a little more responsible and is sometimes the one who talks sense into Ace's head. Ace and his brother have always been close, even though they fight or torment each other, they both have great respect for each other, even now that they don't see each other as much…

The Hunt family is a mystery to many.

The members of this family are… Lively, for lack of a better description, and Rook is the best known among them, and yet he is a guy who hides many secrets.

Although they are unknown, they are apparently a family with a certain wealth, many stories surround their members about how the Hunts managed to get so much money and influence in Twisted Wonderland...

But of course none that came close to the truth.I still wonder what kind of people they are.

Mama, Papa and Grandma Ashengrotto! A very loving family that loves young Azul more than he can imagine. Miss Ashengrotto goes to great lengths to demonstrate her love for her son, even though she is a busy woman, always does everything possible and impossible to be present in her son's life. She is a great friend of the Leech family, and always gets in touch to talk or update each other on how the children are doing. Mr. Ashengrotto, Azul's stepfather, is a kind man who has great respect for his wife. At the beginning of his relationship with his current wife, he was afraid that it would end up affecting the relationship between mother and son… The last thing he wanted was to make the young man hate him, but time passed and Azul and him ended up getting very close ( and catching his stepfather off guard when he called him "papa"… who ended up crying with happiness). Unfortunately, he carries the guilt of not having noticed the bullying that Azul went through in his childhood, and whenever he can (or when Azul allows him) he helps him with whatever he can… Always trying to talk and advise the youngest. Grandmother Ashengrotto, like her daughter, is a kind but strict woman. Always wanting the best for her grandson and being one of his biggest supporters in any projects her grandson starts. Always demands that he visits her more often... And preferably with friends! She wants to make sure her precious grandson is being well taken care of!!

AND MORE FAMILIES DONE!! And I'm still going to draw pictures of other members of the TWST families, so please bear with me a little… I'm going as fast as I can!🫠

I'm not 100% satisfied with their designs... They have a big chance of being changed, but I hope you like them! 😚

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fanart #twst fanart #twst parents #ace trappola #ace twst #ace twisted wonderland #ashengrotto family i looooove u!!!!#azul twst #azul ashengrotto #azul twisted wonderland #ROOK HUNT WHY YOU MAKE MY LIFE SO DIFFICULT #i swear his family give me SO MUCH trouble #rook hunt #twst rook #rook hunt twisted wonderland #ROOK HUNT I WILL GET YOU #!kah art

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zaczenemiji · 3 months

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Hi! Just saw your request are open. I thought it would be a great to request a OS of Kenji Sato x Fem! Reader.

I got inspired by that song of "Too Sweet" from Hozier and I got the idea of how good is Reader with Emi, (since she knows he's Ultraman and also raises a baby Kaiju alone) such a Sunshine, even Emi sees her as a new maternal figure, he thinks she's too sweet, getting the idea of having kids with her but having the thought she deserves better.

But she thinks on the contrary, he's such a bad boy with a good heart. If you wanna add more things, it's up to you. I'll leave it to your imagination. Take your time and no need to rush. Take care.

Too Good, Too True

Kenji Sato x Reader

Word Count: 1,456

Genre/Warnings: Established Relationship, Found Family

Author’s Note: Particularly in love with this one, and Too Sweet plays rent-free in my head.

MASTERLIST

You know everything about Kenji: his past—the reason he’s distant from his dad, his secret—that he’s Ultraman, and his love child the 20-foot-tall kaiju baby in his basement.

You guys have been together for a long while now, even before everyone knew him as Ken Sato, the baseball star—the one whose name dominates the headlines.

With millions of adoring fans, you’re grateful you still have a place in his life. At first, there was a looming thought at the back of your head that tells you how easily replaceable you are.

No matter how you repress the thought, the fact remains that it is true. Who are you when compared to Kenji? You weren’t a model, an icon, a singer, or the daughter of a CEO—like all the other women waiting in line for him.

You were just… you. Simply (y/n) in her soft pastel and floral dresses. You don’t own a lot either, just a flower shop in LA. Your favorite hobby is tending to your garden where you grew the flowers that you sold.

All of your issues regarding this have long been resolved since Kenji has always been quick to reassure you of his love. That to him, everything and anyone else pails in comparison to you. He wishes you knew your impact on his life.

You have always been his breath of fresh air. It started at college during his baseball trainings, he’d wait for a certain girl to pass by. His eyes were always quick to find you among your group of friends.

On his games, you were his number one cheerleader. Your friends and his teammates were always so surprised to see the quiet dainty girl that you were yelling and cheering for his name.

Back when his mom was around, you got along with her so well. Kenji would find you and his mom in their kitchen baking cakes and making cute little pastries.

His mom loved having you around. You were always welcome at his house. When she found out that you were an international student who flew to LA alone and lived in a dorm, she almost wanted to adopt you.

But ain’t no way Kenji wanted to be just a brother in your life.

Many things have changed since then. In becoming a baseball star, half of his life was no longer private. In becoming Ultraman, his responsibilities were no longer limited to that of his career and personal life. And in becoming a daddy to a kaiju baby, he realized you deserve better.

You came over to his house every day to visit Emi. He admired your patience with her and how you were always a ray of sunshine to everyone, including a kaiju. And you’re not afraid of playing with her even if she could literally crush you out of nowhere.

You’d come over with fresh flowers picked from your parents’ garden. You’d make big flower crowns just for Emi and smaller ones for yourself and Mina.

Today was a particularly rough day as Kenji got home from a game. You wanted to accompany him today but he insisted for you to watch over Emi. He has been feeling like shit lately, not knowing what to do with Emi and his declining performance in his games.

Upon passing by the kitchen table, he sees a can of his favorite fizzy drink. Under it, a note. He lifted the can and read, “left this up here so mina won’t see (｡- .•)”

For the first time that day, he smiled. You’ve always told him how lucky you thought you were for being with someone as great as him. But the truth is, it’s the other way around.

In one go, he finished his drink so he could immediately head down to see you. You and Mina were too busy playing with Emi to notice him. He stayed at the lounge where he could see you from the other side of the glass.

There you were, beautiful, with flowers adorning your hair. You looked so pure and innocent. Your gentle demeanor had always put him at ease.

Your expressive eyes looked up at Emi in an attempt to communicate beyond words. Kenji loved your eyes. They were always filled with warmth and kindness but when you look at him, all he sees is love.

On the contrary, there’s him. He and his troubled past.

He is distant from his dad, wanting little to no connection with him. If it wasn’t for his mom, he wouldn’t have returned to Japan.

You weren’t like that. You had a good relationship with your parents. You deserve someone who could give you and your future children the same kind of environment you grew up in—peaceful and without the fear of the possibility that one day, your husband might not come home.

He worries he’d be like his dad, absent. He is Ultraman now. His duties would one day require him to be away, sometimes without notice and for extended periods. You deserve someone who can be there for you consistently.

He is constantly under the scrutiny of the public eye, both as Ultraman and the baseball star that he is. And the public is not often gentle. You deserve a private and peaceful life, away from the criticisms of society.

Kenji loves you dearly, he really does. But oftentimes, he thinks he’s not the best person for you. He thinks you deserve someone who can offer you a simpler and safer life.

Too deep in his thoughts, he failed to notice you enter the room. The kiss you gave on his cheek pulled him back to reality.

“Tough day?” You asked, sitting beside him on the couch.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “But I’m okay now. You’re here now.” He turned to look at you, his rest.

“Would you like to talk about your day?” You asked, reaching out to brush strands of his hair away from his face.

He shook his head. “I’d like to hear about yours first.”

You smiled, excited to tell him what you planned on doing. Since he’s staying here in Japan for good, you thought you would too. The flower shop in LA would be left in a good friend’s care. And here, you thought of working as a kindergarten teacher. You had doubts before but after being able to take care of Emi and enjoying it, you were now sure that this is the kind of job for you.

Kenji’s expression shifted upon knowing this. A shadow of doubt crossed his face. “What’s wrong?” you asked. “Do you not approve?”

“You deserve better,” he said, eyes falling downward before turning away to lean properly on the couch.

Confused, you leaned back as well. “Better job?” You asked. “Kenji, I think this is the bes—“

“Better than a guy who’s got a kaiju baby to take care of and a past, present, and future that’s complicated,” he continued his earlier statement, cutting you mid-sentence.

You were shocked. You never expected him to feel this way. You felt bad because for every time he assured you of his love, you failed to realize that he needed reassurance too.

“Oh no, Kenji,” you said. You turned his face to look at you, cupping it with both of your hands. “You’re a good man.”

“I’m worried, (y/n),” he said softly. “I worry that I can’t give you the life you deserve.“

He wants to marry you, he truly does. He dreamed of having children with you, teaching them, watching them grow. And when all is done, living the rest of his life with you.

When he passes by jewelry stores, he always thinks of you. He’d get in, and browse their selection of rings, but thinking of how you’re too sweet for him holds him back from buying.

"You're the best man for me, Kenji. Not despite your past and your duties, but because of them. They've shaped you into the person I love,” you told him.

“You're a wonderful father to Emi. And if you ever wanted more—if you ever wanted us to be more,” you leaned in to press your forehead on his. “I know you'll be an amazing father because of how you love me every day.”

Kenji closed his eyes, leaning into your touch, the tension slowly leaving his body. "You really believe that?"

"Every word," you said softly. "You are my home, Kenji. As long as we're together, I'm not afraid of anything."

He opened his eyes, looking at you with a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Thank you, (y/n),” he said. “I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never have to find out," you replied, pulling him into a tight embrace.

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@flowerloves

#kenji sato x reader #kenji sato #ken sato x reader #ken sato #ultraman: rising #ultraman #fanfiction #oneshot

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ladysharmaa · 4 months

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New life

Anthony Bridgerton x reader

Summary: Anthony has an argument with his wife, who is from a lower class, when she makes a mistake while promenading with Anthony

(gif is not mine)

Y/n felt like a fish out of water. She didn't grow up in the privileged life that her husband, Anthony, had. Of course her life wasn't bad either, so many others had it worse than her. Y/n was the daughter of well-known merchants, and despite their busy lives where she had to start working as a child to help her family, she was grateful for everything she had.

And then everything changed. Y/n was used to having to speak louder, wipe her hands on her old skirt after touching someone's dirty money, and do manual labor. Until one day, Viscount Bridgerton saw her, and it was love at first sight. A love that was rejected by both for too long.

Anthony was the one who gave in first. He started going to her parents' stall more often, buying things he didn't even need and that others could do for him just so he could look at Y/n. It was indisputable that there was a connection between them. Anthony insisted that they couldn't ignore how they felt about each other, but the girl was afraid. A daughter of merchants marrying into the upper class? It could only go wrong, and to make matters worse it would ruin the reputation of the Bridgerton family. But Anthony made her feel things she never thought she would feel.

Her parents, upon realizing what was happening, warned her of the dangers, but they just wanted to see their daughter happy. In the end, Y/n ended up confessing her love for Bridgerton when he came to her stall saying it would be the last time if she wanted it. Instead of answering him, Y/n took his hand, taking him to an isolated place, where no one could see them, and pulled him into a passionate kiss.

Now, six months after they got married and were living a very happy life together, Y/n was still trying to learn the rules of society. It was a work in progress, and Anthony's mother and sisters helped Y/n a lot, explaining everything she could and couldn't do. There was so much information that she often just followed her instinct, ending up breaking some rules. Fortunately, she had just been among family and hadn't had to listen to anyone's judgment.

It wasn't easy being thrown into high society, dressed in the best dresses that she tried her best not to get dirty, speaking softly, and letting the maids do everything for her. But she would do anything for Anthony, and now she had a lifestyle that many would kill for. She couldn't complain.

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It was a sunny day and so, Y/n and Anthony decided to promenade through the park, taking the opportunity to go on a small boat trip. Everything was going well, the woman had fun touching the crystal clear water and watching the fish that fled quickly while Anthony, who was responsible for the physical work, smiled in amusement.

So, they decided to end their afternoon with one last walk through the park to enjoy the last rays of sun, Y/n's hand on Anthony's arm. Y/n was telling him for the thousandth time how excited she was to go play pall mall the next day with the rest of the Bridgerton family. But Anthony never complained and listened attentively and patiently.

But the couple's peace was ruined when a little in front of them, a woman who Y/n quickly recognized as Earl Harrison's wife, was shouting at a maid. She was already old, and was on her knees on the floor trying to clean the woman's expensive dress. People were sending them looks and Y/n felt fury run through her veins when no one intervened, allowing that maid to be basically humiliated in a public square.

She took a step forward, but was pulled back by Anthony, who was holding her hand while sending her a look. "We have nothing to do with this. It's better not to get involved."

Y/n frowned, shaking her head in denial. "No. I'm sorry, Anthony, but I can't do this. But I promise I'll control myself." She then added in a whisper, "If she doesn't irritate me."

"Y/n…"

But Anthony didn't have time to finish his sentence because his wife was already putting on a fake smile, approaching that scene. "Excuse me, what is happening?"

"Lady Bridgerton, look!" the Countess exclaimed while pointing at her maid as if she were an inferior being, noting that she was waiting for Y/n to take her side. "I came to have a picnic on this beautiful day, but this incompetent woman dropped the cake on my dress. It was my favorite!"

"You sound like a child." Y/n said truthfully, not caring about the gasps heard. Anthony sighed behind her.

"Countess Harrinson, I tripped over a stone. My deep apologies, it won't happen again." the maid, still kneeling on the floor, whimpered. The woman rolled her eyes and gave her a small kick, forcing her to move away.

"It won't happen again because you're not coming back with me. I don't accept mistakes, especially like this." The Countess said coldly, while Viscountess Bridgerton became redder and redder with anger.

"But I—"

"You know, Countess Harrinson, she won't be coming back to you because she's going to work for Viscount Bridgerton. We'd be happy to have you,…"

"Mary." the maid said, putting her hands to her face and crying. "My apologies. Thank you, Lady Bridgerton. That's very kind of you."

"How dare you!" the Countess exploded in anger. "You just disrespected Earl Harrinson's wife." Anthony's wife continued to look at her indifferently. The other mumbled in frustration, "I'm going to destroy your family's reputation."

"I'd like to see you try." she narrowed her eyes, not looking away from her until the Countess was already well away from them, the other maids hurrying after her. However, the crowd that formed stayed in the exact same place.

"Y/n, what do you think you're doing?" Anthony hissed. "We shouldn't have intervened."

"You can't really expect me to leave her here on the floor. Just because she's a maid doesn't deserve to be treated like this." Y/n snapped angrily at her husband, helping the poor woman to get up from the floor.

"I'm not saying she deserves it." he growled, he too beginning to get unnerved. "But you can't talk to an Earl's wife like that. This is a hierarchy, Y/n."

"If I see someone being mistreated, you can be sure that I will speak however I want to whoever I want."

"Watch it." Anthony warned with his jaw clenched. He looked around, noticing that they were attracting even more looks and attention. People were already starting to murmur among themselves, and Anthony was sure it wouldn't take long for rumors to spread. "Stop it and we'll talk at home."

"Don't treat me like I'm the insolent one." Y/n hissed, pulling her arm away when Anthony tried to pull her closer to him.

The maid seemed to be increasingly panicked, now being the cause of an argument between the Bridgerton couple, who were well known in society. On the other hand, the woman was quite touched by Y/n's kind gesture. In the midst of such an aggressive society, there were people with pure hearts who were not afraid to defend what they believed in.

"We'll talk at home then, Lord Bridgerton." Y/n ended up saying after a few long tense moments in which the two exchanged glares. She straightened her dress and started to walk, but stopped and looked over her shoulder at the maid who was hesitant to follow. "Come on, Mary, when we get to the mansion I'll introduce you to the rest of our maids who I'm sure will help you settle in."

The atmosphere was tense throughout the carriage ride. Anthony and Y/n continued to avoid talking, knowing that an argument would immediately begin. Instead, he seemed to be caught up in his thoughts while his wife was busy talking to Mary, who slowly seemed to be starting to relax.

When the carriage finally stopped, although they were angry with each other, the Bridgerton got out first to help Y/n out, as she was quite clumsy and it wouldn't be the first time she almost fell out of the carriage in her long dresses. .

"My office. We need to talk." he said in a low voice into Y/n's ear who nodded.

"Juliet." the Viscountess Bridgerton called one of the maids. "This is Mary. Please show her her duties and introduce her to the rest of the people. Make sure she feels welcome."

"Of course, Lady Bridgerton."

Finally, the couple was alone, but spirits seemed to still be high. Anthony continued to be frustrated with Y/n because she didn't realize that there was a hierarchy in society, and they couldn't do everything they wanted, or it would harm not only them but the entire family. On the other hand, Y/n felt that Anthony was supporting social injustice, and that no human being should be treated badly just because they are from a lower social class.

"If you're waiting for me to apologize, I won't."

"I'm hoping you realize the gravity of what you just did." Anthony snapped, running a hand over his face with a sigh. "No matter how much it costs you, you have to respect this society and its rules!"

"But I don't agree with these rules!"

"I don't care about that!" the man exploded, not seeing how Y/n flinched. They had never argued like this. Obviously, they had already disagreed on some issues, but never to the point of raising their voices. "You were selfish! Everything you do affects you and all of us. You have to stop thinking only about yourself!"

"Selfish?" Y/n muttered, looking at her husband with a frown. Those words seemed to be like a knife in her heart.

"Did it occur to you that Francesca is going to start her season in a few months? Now surely all the suitors will know about this family's reputation. That we don't respect hierarchy. That I married someone who has nothing to do with this lifestyle."

Y/n's eyes filled with tears. Her voice was shaking, but she tried to keep herself in control, "Well, I'm sorry that I let you down. It wasn't my intention, Lord Bridgerton. I'm sorry that you married someone who wasn't supposed to be here, living with all this money and stupid rules of etiquette. But I will always do what I think is right. Because unlike you, I know what it's like to be looked down upon by the upper classes."

Anthony looked at her with wide eyes, his mouth opening and closing several times. "Wait, Y/N, I didn't mean it like that. I don't regret marrying you."

"It doesn't matter what you meant. Really, you should have married someone who was already into this lifestyle, who knew what the hell they were doing. I'm trying, I swear." Some tears fell. "But it's difficult. And dealing with these people, who think they are superior to others, I can't do it."

"Y/n…"

"But you're right. I should have thought about your family. Your siblings could be harmed by what I did, and that was the last thing I wanted. My apologies for that, I will make sure I fix this."

"No, no." the Bridgerton man said, looking desperately at the woman. The woman who gave up her life to marry him, and has tried hard every day to adapt. And here he is, who instead of helping her criticizes her for defending what she believes in. "You're not going to do anything because there's nothing to fix."

"You don't need to say that, I already realized I made a mistake."

"But you didn't, I did. I let myself be influenced by everything that is wrong in this society, and that's why I'm disappointed in myself. But you, my beautiful kind wife, just did what was right, and I'm proud of you. You are not selfish, god you are nothing like that. You do so much for this family, I don't know what came over me to say something as barbaric as that."

"Anthony…" Y/n sighed, not knowing what to say. Her husband, in turn, seemed to have relaxed when Y/n finally called him by his name and not his title.

"I love you. I married you because I love who you are and want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want our children to be as kind as you, and we can raise them to be good people, who help others. I'm sorry for the way I treated you."

Y/n remained silent but let a small smile appear on her face. Anthony also realized that they were better off with each other and took a step forward.

"I will kneel and beg for your forgiveness."

"What are you waiting for?" she teased.

Although she wasn't expecting it, Anthony actually lowered himself to his knees at her feet, looking at her in amusement but also with sincerity. "My apologies, Lady Bridgerton. I will not repeat my mistakes again. I love you and how fierce you are. Now, will you please forgive me?"

"I don't know, Anthony, maybe I need something more convincing." she said, closing her eyes when she felt her husband lift her dress a little to place small kisses on her legs.

"I'm all yours, Y/N. For the rest of my days."

#bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x you #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #collin bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x reader

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heavndoll · 2 months

Text

𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

pairings — catholic!fem reader and eddie munson

summary — you're a good catholic girl. always have been — even though you're dating eddie munson, who's the complete opposite of that. he's crude and vulgar, and his influence may just taint you entirely.

warnings tags — adult language. mentions of religion, talks of god. eddie hates god, but has a god kink. major blasphemy. reader has daddy issues. mentions of jason craver (ew i know). graphic details of smut: loss of virginity (virgin!reader) + corruption. oral (eddie receiving). f!ngering. slight degrading but more praise. wrong usage of a rosary.

Eddie Munson was merely the Devil in your parents eyes.

To you, he was the seventh heaven.

Crossing paths with him was not a mistake, but a blessing. Eddie took care of you, and loved you. He really loved you.

You met him through a friend who went to Hawkins with him, and you couldn’t perceive him as a bad boy, whatsoever. He was genuine and kind the second you and him met, asking questions about you that no other guy ever had done.

But you knew he was not the guy you could bring home to your parents. Your parents were aware of him, since your father was a Sheriff for the Hawkins department, and always got reports of him.

You couldn’t tell them about your infatuation for Eddie, and how your heart burned for him, belonged to him. You were more faithful to Eddie Munson than you were to your Catholicism, and for you to say that to your parents, would earn you a kick to church camp.

You couldn’t say that their sweet little girl was in love with Hawkins’ freak; that he had told her many ways he wanted to deprive her of innocence and purity; that he dreamed of her worshiping him under her cross.

And you dreamed of that, every Sunday, for the past many month.

You sat in between your father and mother as the Priest read from the bible, and you fiddled with the ending hem of your white, babydoll dress. You stared mindfully at the cross, your head drawing the image of Eddie taking your virginity, rupturing your virtue, right underneath it.

You did feel a bit of guilt when you thought such lewd things, and you did blame Eddie for it. You felt even worse thinking of them in church, where you were supposed to be devoting your love and soul to the Lord, not a wild man.

“Hebrews 13:4 says, ‘Marriage is to be held in honor among all, and the marriage bed is to be undefiled; for fornicators and adulterers God will judge’”, the Priest spoke confidently, eyes glancing up to everyone for a second.

You swallowed thickly, fingers gripping tightly on your dress.

What the fuck, Jesus, you thought to yourself. I’m a fucking eighteen year old, of course I want to fornicate!

“Sweet dear,” your mother whispered, and you looked at her. “You look unwell. Are you okay?”

“Do you mind if I take a moment outside?” You wondered, brows drawing upwards. “It feels stuffy. Just for a minute, please.”

She sighed heavily, shaking her head. “Very well, then. Be quiet, dear.”

You thanked her, standing up, and quickly — but quietly — dismissed yourself out of the building, pushing open the wooden doors. The second you were outside, you groaned, the doors swinging close behind you.

“I’m damned for Hell,” you mumbled, rubbing your temple in frustration.

“So am I,” you heard a voice come from the side of you. You spin your head, finding Eddie there, smoking a cigarette. “For smoking of the Lord’s sacred grounds.”

“Eddie,” you sighed in relief, walking up to him, and he brought you into his embrace. He kissed the side of your head, before pulling back. “What are you doing here? If my parents — or anyone — sees you, they will make a fret out of it!”

Eddie chuckled. “Is that so?”

“I’m serious, Eds,” you frowned, throwing a small, playful slap to his shoulder. “We don’t need a scene.”

“Ah, I know, angel,” he cooed, kissing your forehead for assurance. “I just needed to see you. Was wondering what you are doing tonight?”

“I have homework, and finish my project on the Betrayal of Judas tonight,” you explained, annoyed at the mere thought of it. “It’s going to take all night. Why do you ask?”

“I wanted you to come by my trailer tonight,” Eddie said, and you smiled, but upset you had to decline his suggestion. “But it’s okay. I’m going to pick you up after school tomorrow, okay?”

“If Sister Josie sees you, she will report you to my parents,” you warned, and he only barked a laugh, throwing his head back. “I do not want to be sent to a camp because I was caught with you, Eds.”

“If your parents did that, I’d kidnap you,” Eddie stated, and you rolled your eyes, shooting a look at the church’s doors, eyes retreating back into his shortly after. “Go on in, sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow, and we can do something fun.”

You raised a brow. “Like what?”

“Anything you wanted,” Eddie promised, giving your chin a soft pinch. “Be good for me, yeah?”

You hummed, and nodded. “Bye, Eds,” you gave him a kiss on the cheek, and he watched you walk all the way back into the church.

You hurried back to your row, perching yourself back in between your parents.

“Feel better?” Your mother asked.

You inhaled sharply. “Much better.”

Your fork poked at the vegetables that sat on your dinner plate, your eyes boring into it. It was always quiet on Sunday dinners, and you never said anything, unless your parents did.

Your mother poured herself another glass of red wine, and your father glanced at you, then his wife. “Got another report today about that Munson boy,” your father cracked the perfect quiet, and was visibly angered. “He’s been seen graffiting near Lovers Lake.”

“And who is reporting that?” Your mother questioned, sipping her beverage.

“Probably that ass kisser, Jason,” you mumbled, and your father slammed his hands down on the table.

“LANGUAGE!” Your father bellowed, and you dropped your fork onto your plate, slouching back into your chair. “Jason is a good boy. A good son of the Lord, and that’s the kind of guy you need in your life.”

“Jason literally tried to kiss me at the eighth grade school dance,” you recalled, scoffing. “Without my consent, may I add!”

“Well you two were children then,” your mother said, and you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. “He’s a lovely boy. His friends are lovely too!”

You purse your lips. “His friends are dumb fucks.”

Okay, so maybe Eddie really did have a bad influence on you. Because you would never — for the love of God — curse in front of your parents, until now.

“What’s with the mouth?” Your father asked, and you glared at him. “You ought to pray tonight to the Lord tonight.”

“I’m just growing up, daddy,” you mocked, standing up from the dinner table, and threw your napkin on top of your plate. You stormed out of the dining room, straight into your bedroom, slamming your bedroom door behind you.

You dropped your body onto your bed, stuffing your face into your pillow. You wanted to scream and kick every object in your room, but refused not to do such a thing.

You were fine with laying on your bed, and smothering yourself with a pillow, until you heard gentle knocks at your window. You jolted up, your head craning toward the sound, and peeked at the window.

And you found Eddie, standing right outside your window.

You cursed under your breath, and stalked over to your window, snapping it open. Eddie smiled at the sight of you, though he could tell you were mystified by his unnoticed appearance.

“Do you want to kidnap me that badly?” You wondered, and he chuckled breathily, shrugging. “You can’t be here right now. My dad and I got into this fight.”

“About me, I suppose?” Eddie asked, allowing himself to jump into and through your bedroom window, and you didn’t stop him. “I know how your daddy likes to talk about me.”

“He said I should be with Jason, or someone like him,” you said, and he closed your bedroom window. “Because he is a son of the Lord.”

“Or the fucking Devil,” Eddie joked, and you snickered, but agreed. “I wonder what your dad would think if he knew you were with me, hm?”

“He would take his shotgun to you,” you admitted, and Eddie took a look around your bedroom. “Anyway, you can stay for a bit, but my father demands I pray for cursing.”

“Their little girl suddenly has a mouth of dirt?” Eddie teased, and you slapped his arm, which he laughed at. “Have I finally corrupted their innocent daughter?”

“Shut it, Munson,” you snapped, and he leaned against your desk, his eyes casting down at your Bible that sat on top of it.

“How about you pray right now? I won’t say a thing,” Eddie suggested, and you raised a brow, tilting your head. “You need to get it over with, anyway. You won’t even know I’m here.”

“You want to watch me pray?” You asked.

“It’d be nice, ya’know?” Eddie grinned, and he could tell you were completely gullible to what he was getting at. “Maybe I could learn a thing or two.”

You considered it, and simply agreed, walking up next to him. You grabbed your bible, and opened it up as you made your way over to your bed, kneeling at the end of it. Your knees brushed against your carpet-like flooring, looking up at your cross.

“Wait, Eds,” you paused, and he was already giving you your pink rosary. You thanked him, wrapping it around your fingers, and held it tightly in your hand.

Your cross hung right above your bed, right in the middle of your room, and your attention diverted from him, to the Bible.

Eddie simply watched and witnessed you speak and pray, and he felt sick for getting aroused to this pure sight of you, pleading for forgiveness from a man who supposedly ruled the Earth. He wanted to touch you, for his hands to memorize and caress every curve of your body.

His eyes unpeeled that baby pink tank top you wore, then went to your white, soft sweatpants. He wondered how it’d be like for you to plead and worship him in front of the Lord as he made you call him your God.

Maybe that was an awful, crude dream to play in his head, but he wanted to have your devotion turn to him, not the Lord.

The Lord couldn’t love and care for you the way he did.

Eddie went over to your bedroom door, and locked it, seeing how focused you were on the pages of pure fiction.

He kneeled behind you, and wrapped an arm around your torso, your body shuddering. He brought you closer to him, planting an innocent kiss on your shoulder.

“Eddie, I’m praying,” you pouted, setting your Bible down for a moment. “You said you wouldn’t disrupt.”

“Just keep going, love,” he mumbled, his tip of his nose brushing against your skin. “Keep praying.”

You rolled your eyes and did so, continuing to recite every word from the pages.

Eddie’s lips made their way to the nape of your neck, getting the sweet scent of your perfume. “What a good girl,” he whispered, his hot breath sending a symphony of shivers along your body. “Doing anything to stay pure and good.”

You nearly faltered, your concentration weakening. His hand trailed to your stomach, resting on your abdomen.

Eddie had touched you before, but not fully — not under your clothes. He even afforded to show you how to touch yourself, but Sister Tina from your school said you’d be banished to Hell for such a thing; so that set enough fear in.

Now, you craved for him to touch him. You didn’t know why in this particular moment — out of every heated, lusting moment — you wanted to feel him, to take you apart, and taint every part of your body, and brain.

You began to stutter as you spoke, Eddie’s hand crawling under your sweatpants, grazing over your clothed area. “Do you think the Lord wants me to touch you?” He taunted, and you hummed, your hands grasping harshly onto both sides of the Bible. “What do you think?”

“Eddie,” you managed to breathe out. “Eddie.”

“I want him to watch me take his devoted angel,” Eddie continued, his fingers creeping into your underwear, and your body flinched the second his fingers pressed against your bud. “Show him that he is no protector.”

You nodded, and Eddie grinned, resting his chin onto your shoulder.

You wanted Eddie. You needed Eddie.

“Keep reading, or I’ll stop,” Eddie warned, and you couldn’t hold onto a single thought as his middle finger curled into your unripe cunt. You moaned, squeezing your eyelids shut to the feeling of it. It was a single fucking finger in you, and you felt like pure bliss.

Eddie continued to pump the individual finger in you, slowly and surely as you tried to read more.

Everything was going smoothly, until a knock hit against your bedroom door.

Your father barked your name, you and Eddie freezing up. “Honey, why is your door locked?” Your father asked, shaking the doorknob. “Are you okay?”

Eddie smirked, his ring finger joining his middle, both pumping into a picked up pace.

“I–I’m praying!” You announced, trying to hold back your noises. “I wanted to pray in privacy, talk to the Lord!”

“Oh,” your father spoke from the other side of the door. “I’m glad to hear that, sweetie. I just wanted to say, you know I’m just looking out for you, right?”

Eddie’s fingers struck an unknown, but euphoric, spot in you, and you choked down a loud moan. “Yeah, daddy! I know that,” you responded, throwing your head back onto Eddie’s shoulder, and the Bible collapsed to the side of you.

Eddie chuckled quietly, using his free hand to wrap onto your throat. “What a filthy girl,” he whispered into your ear, grasping onto your neck.

“There’s bad guys out there, like Eddie Munson,” your father said, and Eddie wanted to bark a laugh. “If you were to be with a boy like that, I’d lose it. Boys only want one thing, and you know that.”

Another noise was lodged in your throat, Eddie having to squeeze your throat as a warning.

“I know, I know! Now, can I continue praying, please?” You asked, and Eddie’s finger shoved into you faster, and harder.

“Yes, of course! Your mother and I are heading to the Martins for a bit,” he acknowledged, and you had to slam your own hand over your mouth. “We should be back no later than 11. Be good!”

You kept your hand over your mouth until you heard the front door slam shut, and the second they did, you freed all your noises. Your chest heaved, your body becoming pudding against Eddie’s.

A hot sensation hit your stomach, and you found pleasure in it. It was an unfamiliar, enjoyable feeling. Your thighs trembled, and Eddie took a quick note to it, noticing how you were barely adjusting to this. “Are you going to cum?” Eddie asked, and you looked at him with confusion.

“Cum?” You repeated.

“Does it feel like your stomach is on fire?” Eddie asked, his fingers making themselves deeper into your core, and you nodded. “That means you’re at your climax, love. That you are going to cum. It’s very normal.”

You still had a lot to learn, and Eddie was glad enough to teach you it all.

“Just let it go, sweetheart. Let it be free,” he cooed, and you hummed, your body convulsing the second your climax poured out of you, nearly dropping to the floor. He kept you up and close to him, and you panted, swallowing thickly.

Eddie’s fingers disappeared out of you, removing his hand completely from you. He placed his two fingers in his mouth, getting the sweet taste of you, and nearly moaned. “You taste fucking divine.”

You blushed, and eyed your Bible, picking it up. “I think I got enough forgiveness,” you joked, and Eddie hummed, helping you stand up with him. “I just…”

“Hm?” Eddie wondered, taking the Bible from you, and rested it on your desk. “What is it, sweet girl?”

“I want,” your voice quavered, your head hanging low in embarrassment. “I want more.”

Eddie placed his finger under your chin, bringing your head up to look him directly in the eye. “You want more? You have to be more specific, love,” Eddie mused, and you whimpered. “Use your words, please.”

“I want you to touch me more,” you only knew how to say it like that. Just paraphrase it in that way. “I want you to fuck me?”

“Is that a question or statement?” Eddie jested, and you whined more, embarrassed. “I’m kidding, sweet girl. I know what you mean, but are you sure?”

You nodded, smiling in confidence.

Eddie tugged you closer to his body, his lips smothering yours, and his hands laid on your hips, squeezing them gently. Your arms looped around his neck, holding him close to you, your body aching for him.

He led you over to your bed, sitting down onto it as you straddled his lap. Your hands cupped his cheeks, your rosary brushing against his skin, and you could feel him smile on your lips.

His lips fell off of yours, and he stripped off his upper half clothing, dropping them to your floor. Your eyes widened to the view of his body, his abs perfectly toned, and your finger drew around the tattoos he had on the left side of his chest.

“I like this tattoo,” you giggled at the Demon and spider tattoos, and he smiled, kissing the side of your head. “But I will always like your puppetmaster tattoo a lot more.”

“Gotta get you a tattoo one day,” Eddie said, and you shook your head. “Get you a pretty tattoo, just like mine, yeah?”

“I’ll think about it,” you said, and he hummed, his fingers hooking under your shirt. You let him take it off of you, undoing your bra by yourself. You hesitantly shimmed off your bra, the straps sliding down your arms, and onto your lap.

You put it on the ground with the other clothes, and you didn’t stare at Eddie as his eyes gawked at your breasts. You were insecure and worried – he was the first guy to ever see your bare body.

Panic slowly rolled in. “Is it okay? Am I okay?”

“Baby,” Eddie breathed, looking up at you, and then at your breasts. “You are so beautiful. This body, all mine to touch and mark.”

Your worries washed away, Eddie planting loving kisses on your breasts.

“Your body is fucking gorgeous,” he whispered, captivated and enthralled by your gracious beauty. “All fucking mine.” He carefully laid you on your back, on the bed, and hovered over you, his lips falling back onto yours. His body rutted against yours, hands at the waistband of your sweatpants,

“Take them off, Eds,” you breathed into the kiss, and his taste was gone for a moment as he listened, stripping off your sweatpants. You were left in your white cotton panties, and he took a second to unbuckle his belt, and then his pants, both landing on the ground.

You and Eddie were only left in your underwear, and you could feel a hard bulge brush against your inner thigh.

Oh, you thought to yourself. That.

“Are you sure you’re ready, doll?” Eddie asked, and you looked at him with assuring, doe eyes, and he kissed your forehead. He reached over to his pants, grabbing his wallet from it, and pulled out a small wrapper from it.

You shivered, and your eyes bored into Eddie as he took off his boxers, and you tensed the second you glimpsed at his cock.

You were about to pray to God again, due to the overwhelmingly huge size of Eddie.

Eddie opened up the wrapper, taking out the condom, and slipped it on. You took off your panties and kicked them off, throwing your rosary too, seeing how they joined all other clothing items on the floor.

“It’s going to hurt at first; if you want me to stop, just say so,” Eddie said, and one of his hands held onto yours for comfort as his other was used to guide him into you. You could feel the head of him at your cunt, and you squeezed his hand whilst his cock made its way into you, slowly and bit by bit.

Your back arched, gasping aloud to the feeling of him fulfilling you. Eddie’s hand grasped onto your jaw, holding onto it, forcing you to hold eye contact with him. “Just take me, love,” he mused, and you whimpered in response.

You were being easily stretched and torn apart by his cock, your virtue draining out of you with every brush of him coming in and out of you. You continued to hold onto his hand, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand for assurance you were safe.

Eddie kept a steady, delicate pace, taking a clear eye to how you were already in shambles. He was simply dispossessing you of your longing purity, your body and devotion belonging to him now.

This was Seventh Heaven to you — this was all of the joy and exhilaration you longed for.

Your cunt adjusted to his size, and your hand let go of him, setting both of them onto his shoulders. “More, Eddie. Please,” you pleaded, and he began to drill himself deeper into you, his hands pressing onto your stomach for support.

You squealed, his eyes on the way his cock thrusted into you. Your body elevated upwards, and your glossy eyes caught a glance of the cross above your bed.

If this corruption was so cruel, so vile, why did it feel so fucking amazing?

Flares of euphoria spurred throughout your body as wanton, lewd noises elicited out of your mouth, and filled your bedroom. Embers of pure, raw desire were in Eddie’s eyes the second they fell back into yours, his breath shuddering his rib cages.

A firestorm grew in your stomach, and your nails dug into Eddie’s shoulder, earning a harsh moan out of him. “‘M gonna cum,” you told him, your chest falling up and down rapidly. “I need to cum, Eds.”

“What a sensitive whore you are,” he taunted, and you groaned, the fire spreading into your thighs. “Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum for your God.”

Your lids sealed shut as your climax peaked and rushed out of you, your body moving with a hard jolt to it. Eddie nearly laughed mockingly at you, your delicate, unripe body, now sweating and shaking from sinful sex.

You barely had collected the fact Eddie referred to him as your God, but you didn’t hate it.

You liked it.

“I’m going to fuck your pretty mouth,” Eddie said, and helped you sit up as he took off the condom. “I always told you I’d find a way for you to worship me. Get on your knees, angel.”

Eddie tossed his condom into your trash bin, turning his attention back onto you.

You obeyed, and stumbled to your bedroom floor, collapsing down onto your knees. Eddie seized your rosary, and took the opportunity to tie up your wrists with the symbolized jewelry. You whined, tugging at your hostaged wrists.

“Open your mouth for me,” Eddie said, standing in front of you. Your mouth popped open, and he shoved two fingers into your mouth, creeping them to the back of your throat. You gagged the second his fingers hit your throat, your eyes watering.

You stared up at him with pure and pious eyes, that were almost daunting, too.

“How are you going to be able to take my cock, when you can barely take my fingers, angel?” He asked, and a tear trickled down your cheek. He was amused by this single tear. “You worship me?”

You nodded as his fingers left your mouth, his knuckles brushing along your cheek. “Yes, I worship you. Only you,” you assured, giving the edge of his palm a delicate, small kiss. “You’re my religion.”

He chuckled. “Such a good little thing you are.”

Eddie’s fingers curled into your hair, nails scratching against your scalp. His hips pushed forward, his cock stuffing your opened mouth.

You remembered your friend told you about blowjobs — that you make sure your teeth don’t touch, or it makes it unpleasant. Your friend wasn’t as faithful or pure as you were, only going to Catechism to please her parents.

Eddie’s cock continuously hit the back of your throat, drawing inchorenet gargles from you as tears lined at the brim of your eyes. Your throat was brutalized, yet you soaked into the pain of it, taking pleasure in every second of it.

Your eyes rolled back the deeper his cock went, his teeth gritting together, and moaned your name like a mantra.

Eddie’s head fell back, his hips snapping into your face, and you gurgled, trying your best to breathe out of your nostrils. “Shit, shit, I’m close,” he told you, and that was the only warning you were given, nothing else. “Keep your mouth steady and open for your God, baby.”

His climax flooded into your mouth, your tongue getting a salty taste of his high, and he pushed his cock out of your mouth. He tried to catch his breath, sweat beading at his forehead and body, his fingers unhooking from your hair.

“Let me see, doll,” Eddie said, and you happily showed him the way his cum sat on your tongue. “Mhm, that’s a good girl. Swallow it.”

You closed your mouth, taking it all down at once, and he kissed the top of your head. He unknotted the rosary, and your wrists were glad to be free.

Eddie sat the jewelry on your bed stand, and helped you up, sitting you down on your bed afterwards. “Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” He panicked, and you shook your head, a few strands of your hair matted to your teary, sweating cheeks.

“Did I do okay?” You asked, and he frowned, cupping your cheeks, caressing them lovingly with his thumbs.

“You were wonderful, sweet girl. So good,” he reassured, kissing the top of your head. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and dressed. You still have that project.”

You groaned, barely remembering it. “Oh fuck!”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff

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yzzart · 10 months

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Love your Tom blyth fics an unhealthy amount!!! I’m picturing reader and Tom being all lovey dovey at the premiers but playing it off as really good bestfriends UNTIL she goes to kiss him on the cheek and in instinct he turns his head to kiss her on the lips so they just say fuck it and hard launch there and then x

"An unplanned situation."

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader

summary: a small gesture, with a sweet intention, revealed a promising secret.

word count: 1.359!

notes: i started this request in the morning and only had the opportunity to finish it a few minutes ago, forgive me for that, anon! — i hope you like it and of course, feel free to share ideas with me!

"Y/N, look here!"

Another request, among others, screams and countless flashes, was directed to you; being, theoretically, almost impossible to identify who had demanded your image. — There were so many voices mixing, not to mention the music in the background, but, you tried your best to pay attention to most of the cameras.

However, it wasn't anything you weren't used to; something that has already been normalized in your life.— And during the premiere of The ballad of songbirds and snake it was no different, and it was splendid; simply perfect. — Not to mention, the feeling of gratitude that grew in your chest.

Cameras and cell phones captured your every movement, your poses and the way your perfectly chosen dress was valued and highlighted on your body. — And how it matched the color palette of the film. — Everything was being recorded, at the exact moment, posted and commented on all social networks.

You had the opportunity to meet, talk and take photos with some of the cast. — It was so pleasant, the company and unity that everyone developed during the filming of the film was inexplicable and so adorable; you were grateful to have worked with so many talented people. — There were some people who were absent, until now, in your eyes, but you would definitely meet them again on the carpet.

And, of course, your eyes roamed the decorated room, matching the elements of the film, and crowded in search of a specific person. — It wasn't exaggerated words to say that you were starting to feel uncomfortable because he was missed; and the cameras recorded it. — Silent questions, which would be written, formed in the minds of the presenters and photographers.

Your boyfriend had yet to appear on the red carpet; perhaps he is giving a quick and curious interview or greeting someone. — That's what was going on in your head.

You and Tom had a secret relationship, ever since you met behind the scenes, in front of the world and all the cameras that may exist in it; something that was so risky and at the same time adventurous. — And that, as incredible as it might seem, you knew how to disguise it in front of your fans; even though they gradually became suspicious with comments, interactions and behind-the-scenes photos.

They were either smart or you and Tom were too far over the line. — This question was not important or essential for the moment. — And you considered each other best friends for interviews or responses to comments; you tried your best.

And so, Rachel sent countless screenshots of tweets, which talked about or mentioned the relationship between you and Tom, to you. — It's impossible to deny how funny it was.

Persisting in continuing to look for him and for a few seconds, your eyes meet his blue and so charming irises. — Its shade of blue was a magnificent and beautiful combination; something you would never get tired of admiring. —And there was no other thing, or anyone, that could take his eyes off you.

As if the only thing that mattered at that moment was you. — And everything around him simply disappeared.

"There you are!" — Tom walked towards you, easily as there weren't so many people on the carpet, and an enthusiastic smile forming on his lips; also accompanied by cameras and intense flashes. — "And so beautiful!"

Holding a part of your long and dazzling dress so as not to hinder your steps, you met him, and without wasting any time, hugged him. — A common gesture, and not so different or strange, for the spectators; so, you thought. — Tom's arms went around your waist, holding your protectively for a little while, while your arms positioned themselves around his neck.

Tom's fragrance, which you liked so much, filled your nose; it felt so good, and you felt your eyes weaken, contaminated by it. — And the british man was aware of that.

"You look perfect, always." — The older man distanced himself, just a little, and brought his face closer to your ear, wanting only you to hear. — "The most beautiful woman that has ever crossed my eyes." — The lenses probably captured a reddish pigmentation on your cheeks and it was not part of your makeup.

You placed one of your hands on his chest, and looking directly into his eyes; that shone at you, and it wasn't just because of the influence of the lights in your direction. — Tom's gaze was sincere, and passionate, intensely fascinating you. — He conveyed what he felt most with just his eyes.

And that was one of the facts about him that you were passionate about and recognized very well.

"Oh, shut up!" — Raising your hand and resting it a little away from your mouth, you laughed a little embarrassed and looked back at the cameras; remembering that they remained there and you knew that later you would see your interaction with Tom on some social media.

Again, a thing and situation you were used to.

"Look at that camera!" — A voice mingled among others, which requested the same request, asking you to take some photos together; something that would feed news, fans and press.

At no point, minute or second, did you and Tom remain distant or apart from each other; always a few steps close, hugging each other for photos and certain looks, completely indiscreet. — Even during brief interviews, as Blyth mentioned you or your character's work, you were silently watching. — One of the interviewers even commented on how cute she thought it was.

Tom's hand was on your waist, holding and almost covering you, making a quick caress in a few seconds and one of your hands was still resting on his chest; and you continued, of course, to be the focus of the cameras.

Quickly, with the intention of changing your pose and trying something new and also to take advantage of the fact that Blyth's face was almost close to yours, you decide to place your pigmented lips on his cheeks. — Such a cute and friendly gesture, and so common. —But, automatically and hastily, Tom turned his face away at the same time, without having in mind what you were, in fact, planning. — God, it was a shock; an absurd and completely intense shock.

For the first time that night, in that place and on those cameras, your lips touched Tom's lips. — It was very quick, good and surprising; and that definitely left a cold, freezing air in your belly accompanied by a desperate feeling in your mind. — Rumor has it that smoke was coming out of his head. — It was a peck, a quick and simple kiss.

When you separated, hurriedly, your eyes met Tom's once again; who were a little wide-eyed, expressing surprise. — Looking for something to say or do, just like you. — And you watched his lips curve into an almost smile, as if he was trapping him.

Shouts of enthusiasm and some possible whistles echoed throughout the immense place, along with some looks and expressions of surprise at what had happened. — And some people were worried if they had recorded the exact moment, of course. — Your fans were probably commenting frantically about what happened.

You really didn't know what to do but at no point did you move away from your boyfriend — now, official to the public — and keep your hand on his chest; as if it were, in fact, planned.

"A nice way to reveal it, huh?" — Tom laughed, relaxed and without a feeling of discomfort or uneasiness, he still had his hand on your waist; and he still squeezed you, then leaving you with another caress. — "I think." — He didn't look at the cameras, his orbits focused only on you.

They have always focused on you, regardless of what is actually happening; and that will never change.

"A nice way to reveal." — You repeated your words, but, as an affirmation and certainty; maybe, seeing how relieved Tom was, and not showing some kind of distress, your chest calmed down and you felt safe.

And soon, you and Tom became one of the most talked about topics on social media.

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus #snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes

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buckyalpine · 4 months

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I've always had this acting AU idea where you and Bucky are co-stars in a movie/tv show and your characters are enemies. It makes people feral because you're both so crazy attractive but you just hate each other so much on screen and your story lines have you at each others throats.

Now the part I love with this idea is the press actually thinking you don't get along with him whatsoever and thinking there's drama between the cast because you're never around with them. Whenever they hang out together, literally everyone by you is there. There are so many rumors about how Bucky can't stand working with you and how the cast leaves you out. Natasha even had a thanksgiving dinner recently and the Instagram photo she posted has literally everyone present but you.

Things heat up even more when you barely update your own socials after filming wrapped up. You basically disappeared and it confirms everyone's suspicions. The only time you post here and there is when you're at home alone, doing your own thing. You're never present in any of the interviews. No one ever comments even when they're directly asked about you. There has to be drama.

It's been over a year of near radio silence and people anticipating for the release of this movie.

I love the idea of the movie premier day being full of anticipation and people buzzing over if Bucky would bring a date, if you'd even show up, wondering how you'd interact with everyone else. No one's even seen you but you're one of the main characters so you have to show-

A large black SUV rolls up.

Then Bucky steps out.

Everyone screams. He looks stunning in his all black suit, with his scruffy beard and chestnut locks. Instead of making his way down the red carpet, he stays in place waiting for someone to join him.

Confused murmurs start among the screaming.

And then.

He holds his hand out to help you out.

And everyone goes absolutely wild as you step out, seeing your very round baby bump and that ring on your finger. He makes a show of kissing you deeply before walking you down and of course the cast showers you in love and hugs as if you're all in your own little bubble.

They already knew all long. The secret, low key relationship with you and Bucky. You didn't want people to know because it would bring on so much speculation and scrutiny. When everyone bombards you both with what's going on, Bucky only answers one reporters question with a simple "I'm here with my wife"

Seriously, people can't handle it.

A few days after the reveal, Bucky, you and the rest of the cast including Sam, Steve, Nat and so many others post all the outings they had where you were actually present. The "thanks giving dinner" was actually your baby shower. So many pictures where they're holding your bump with "aunt" and "uncle" sashes tied around them. Pictures from the secret wedding. The honeymoon. The cutest pictures of Bucky cuddled up with you; wholesome intimate moments with you and him. Moments with getting mani pedis with Nat and Wanda.

No on can understand how this was all hidden so well. No one would have guessed.

Weeks later you have your babies and this time everyone posts pictures, all of them surrounding you in the hospital.

Seriously, this reveal breaks the internet in a way you'd never imagine.

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alpaca-clouds · 1 year

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Some historical context for Olrox

Okay, let me prephase this with one important message: Castlevania Nocturne made me really happy by making the plot all about colonialism, as colonialism and its fallout and how it influences us to this day is a topic that I am very passionate about. We do not talk enough about it. The US does not talk enough about it because it could make white people feel uncomfortable. And here in Germany we do not talk about it, because we act as if this had nothing to do with us at all.

But the show talks about it and I love it.

And I honestly also gotta say that I love that the BI_PoC character have a concrete cultural heritage. Olrox is Aztec, Annette is Yoruba, and Drolta is Egyptian. Other shows: Please take notes!

But let's talk Olrox, because he is so fucking interesting and amazing!

We know about him that he is Aztec and also that he is 250 years old. Or roughly that old by the time he kills Julia. Which would put either his birth or his turning somewhere around 1530.

Now, the fall of the Aztec Empire has a very exact date: August 13th, 1521. But you should keep in mind that this does not mean that on that day the Aztec's are extinct. To this day there is still 1,5 million people speaking Nahuatl, the language of the Aztecs, and preserving some of the Aztec cultural traditions. It was just that on that day the empire construct fell to Cortez and the Spaniad conquistadors and a lot of Aztecs went into exile to flee the genocide that Cortez was bringing upon them.

The question of course is: Was Olrox still human at this time or was he already a vampire? From his dialogue it is clear that he was at least alive and grown enough to remember the fall of the empire and the distruction Cortez and his men brought upon them. But you can bet it was very traumatic.

I also am assuming he was turned by a white man. Because so far my assumption is that vampirism is an old world thing that got brought to the new world through colonialism. (Mostly because in Dracula's court we do not see any new world vampires.)

Now, the other interesting thing is what he says about his dead lover. The one Julia killed. So, first the "town in Massachusetts" he speaks about is clearly Stockbridge. Which was the town in which many Mohicans have settled during the colonial times, as well as other people from the Iroquois Nations. Now, it should be noted that the Mohicans were not part of the Iroquois alliance and in fact went to war with the Iroquois, but by the time colonialism really geared up there was some cooperation between the Mohicans and Iroquois.

Due to this they were in an alliance with the Oneida (who were part of the Iroquois) by the time of the Revolutionary war. Now, the Revolutionary War created a lot of conflict between the Iroquois nations, because they did not agree which side they should fight on. Of course both sides promised that they could keep their land, but the Mohawk, Onondaga, Cayuga, and Seneca did not trust the colonists and hence sided with the British, while the Oneida and Tuscarora (and through them also the Mohicans) sided with the Colonists.

And the dead lover clearly was among those siding with the colonists. Now, a quick refresher for the non-Americans (and the Americans who slept to history class, which is understandable). The Revolutionary War lasted from April 19, 1775 to September 3, 1783 (which, yes, also means that Julia and Richter probably were in the US during the war the entire time and the "evil" Julia was fighting probably was linked to it). And of course we all know how it ended for the Indigenous people: The colonists won, countless Indigenous folks died on both sides, only to get booted of their land soon after. The Oneida und Mohicans were made to move westwards not soon after the war ended. So, yes, Olrox would have seen that happen.

Now, an interesting thing in his dialogue was when Erzebet said: "We will create a new world." To which he replies: "I have heard that one before." And she says: "This time we are going to make it to last."

And the big question is to what this is refering. Is it refering to the colonialization or is it refering to the revolutionary war? Or something entirely different. In both cases it would be possible. And yes, the American Revolution definitely were claiming to create a new world. But was it that what he refered to or something else?

Well, never the less: Interesting character. Really good writing.

#castlevania #castlevania nocturne #castlevania netflix #castlevania nocturne spoilers #castlevania olrox #american history #history #colonialism #colonial history #aztec

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tieronecrush · 9 months

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secret santa

dbf!joel miller x f!reader

summary: your parents throw a christmas party every year, and this is your first time in the “adult” secret santa exchange. the last few times home, you’ve found joel, your dad’s friend, staring a bit too long, flicking away when he’s caught. for the game, of course, you get joel’s name. and you’re going to make sure it’s the best gift he’s ever received.

rating: E

wc: 5.6k

warnings: daddy kink, age gap (sorry folks but i did want to try my hand at dbf!joel lol i pictured him around 50, reader around mid-late 20s), alcohol consumption, mentions of food, distant relationship with parents, party, christmas, gift giving, secret santa game, bit of deception on reader's part just to get joel alone, lingerie, body worship, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, restraints (using clothes/undergarments), daddy!joel, soft!dom joel, praise, a few instances of degradation, dirty talk (as always)

a/n: (images in moodboard do not convey what reader looks like, only the vibe! no descriptions of reader) my first dbf!joel…milestone moment lol <3 hope y’all enjoy my take on the dbf trope! and tysm to my babies for beta-ing @northernbluess and @kiwisbell love you both 😚

dividers by @saradika

Twenty years. This same godforsaken party has been happening every December for the last twenty years of your life, full of overserved middle aged parents, and never has it been less enjoyable than since you’ve been an “adult”. An adult still treated as a child, chastised, fawned over, always told to follow the golden rule. No, not treat others as they wish to be treated. Your family’s golden rule was speak only when spoken to.

And your father was the enforcer. Always required you home for the party, even away, out of state for college, away for the semester studying abroad halfway across the world. You were flown home and called upon to do the heavy lifting — groceries, liquor runs, cleaning the house, decorating to make it all feel magically festive.

At times, it felt like Cinderella had nothing on you. At least she had a prince.

The only time that this party has ever been remotely improved was when Joel Miller moved into the neighborhood. He’d snuck in under your radar due to the fact that it happened the few months you were living abroad, but coming back for the party and Christmas break, you were quickly introduced to him by your father. His new “best friend”. One among many. Each serving a unique purpose to get your dad ahead.

Upon meeting Joel, you were drawn to him immediately. Skeptical over the fact he found company with your dad, but much to your surprise, he was different. Maybe lonely and looking for a friend; you’d found he was living alone, his adult daughter, Sarah, in her final years at the University of Chicago — a choice that was hers but Joel admittedly feared, you learned. He only encouraged her, regardless of the fact he was anxious about losing his kiddo.

Not the same sentiments your dad had when dropping you off to school in the farthest, cheapest corner of the country you could find. He was nearly jumping up and kicking his feet together in glee to get you out of the house.

Joel, though, Joel was kind hearted and patient. He was curious and caring, asking you about school, work, your life every time he saw you over the years. Warmth radiated from him despite his more shy demeanor. Comfortable. You felt so comfortable with him.

Which is what made the smallest of lingering glances or the slightest of smiles turned smirks that much more exhilarating.

Maybe you were being naive or projecting your burning desire for him onto every interaction, but as you stitched yourself tighter into Joel’s life over the years, you haven’t been able to help but notice him checking you out at times or slipping a subtle flirty comment into conversations between the two of you. You would give it right back, and that would usually pump the breaks, bringing things back to surface level.

There was one time this past summer, after a neighborhood barbecue that your parents left early from, that you and Joel really had a moment. It was loud, music drowning out the back and forth you were having to the point where you couldn’t quite make out every word, and Joel must have felt the same because he made sure you heard his next words clearly — “Do you want to go somewhere quieter?”

Agreeing immediately, he pressed his large hand into the midpoint of your back, guiding you out of the confines of the party and to the open air of the street. He led you to his place and around back, pulling two lounge chairs next to his pool closer to each other.

That night, thanks to the alcohol buzzing in your system, you confessed more about your home life and your feelings around it. Joel was surprised, given the picture-perfect image your father paints for everyone, but he was comforting as always. Even as far as offering you his spare room if you ever needed a break.

That’s when you knew you were done for. Never in your life had you wanted to just kiss someone that badly. Let alone all of the thoughts that came along with it.

Harboring this crush for your dad’s friend, fifty plus and a father himself, you attempted to keep things growing closer when you came back. Friendly, polite, reciprocating any amount of flirty banter he threw your way. Even initiating it yourself.

You were so incredibly into Joel Miller. And returning home this time, you decided it was high time you acted on those feelings.

The noise of the bustling party dies down enough for your dad to introduce the game, as if the attendees haven’t been participating for nearly as long as you’ve been alive. But your dad loves the attention on him, cracking jokes that make you roll your eyes while everyone else gives him a laugh. Always so focused on himself. How everyone else sees him. Image obsessed enough to forget to assign anyone as a Secret Santa to his own daughter but not forgetting to give her someone to gift to.

Granted, you weren’t that upset about who you’d drawn.

Watching from afar, you see Joel survey the empty space under the tree, only the deep cherry red skirt laid out on the hardwood. Nothing for him. Everyone opens their presents, laughter and excitement bubbling across the room as the point of the game begins. Partygoers start to guess their gifters, hoping to nail down their Secret Santa in one go. Conversations are struck up as people meet their pair, ‘thank you’s exchanged along with the gifts. Joel observes from his spot with a few of your neighbors, also friends with your dad, and the sight of him shifting his weight on his feet is enough to draw up the courage to approach him.

Crossing the room, flashes of him checking you out, lingering in conversations with you about work and your new apartment in the city, seeking you out each time you visit home flood your mind, reassuring your choices the closer you get to him. The closer you get to completely jumping into the deep end, the last few steps teetering you at the edge.

Slowing to a stop next to him, a finger of yours gingerly taps his strong shoulder a few times, pulling his attention away completely. Joel turns his body to face you, away from others to solely focus on you in front of him. The subtle sign of his attraction to you has your nerves tingling, clearing your throat when he speaks up in greeting.

“Hey there, sweetheart. Y’alright?” he asks, eyebrow raised. Always so goddamn sweet.

You sigh, a tinge dramatic but attempting to sell the dismay and toying with the flute glass in your hand. “Lame surprise, but I’m your Secret Santa and I stupidly left your gift upstairs. It’s a bit obnoxious to bring down so d’you mind coming up to open it and you can grab it at the end of the night?”

Joel agrees with a jolt of nervous excitement down his spine. Shuddering out the feeling subtly, he clears his throat and nods, awaiting your lead. He thinks he catches the slightest drag of your eyes up and down his body, lingering at the expanse of his shoulders and the sliver of his chest that is exposed from the two undone buttons of his red flannel.

When no one’s paying attention, you bring Joel upstairs into your old room that you’re staying in while you’re back in town for the holidays. He stands around a bit awkwardly, sticking out like a sore thumb with his broad shoulders stretching his red flannel, thick thighs straining deliciously against the perfectly worn material of his Levi’s. Stark against the frilly softness of your room, with its bright white furnishings, and feminine touches. He’s all man. Nothing like the guys your age who think they’re like him.

Joel glances about the room before he asks, “So, what was so difficult to get under the tree, sweetheart? You didn’t have to get me anything so major.”

“I wanted to. I mean, noticed you eyeing what I got you for a while so figured the least I could do was give it to you…” Joel’s face twists up in confusion, perplexed by the riddled clue before you’re standing in front of him, reaching to the side of your plaid skirt and dragging down the zipper. Joel stutters out nonsense at your actions, lifting his hands in surrender.

“Doll, I think—you don’t—” His mumblings die in his throat when you drop the material to your ankles, revealing red satin panties. When you turn around, a bow sits at the top of your ass, tying up the material to stay on your hips while elasticated bands run along the outline of your cheeks to connect to the crotch. Very little of your bum is covered, showing off the supple flesh to Joel. He’s rendered speechless, averting his gaze after a second too long of staring, the mumblings starting up again.

“S’not a good idea, shouldn’t be up here right now…” Joel looks around, looking over his shoulder toward the door. One of your hands reaches up to gingerly cup his chin, turning his flushed face to yours again. His pupils are blown wide, eyes darkened with desire. Your own gaze flicks down between the two of you, smirking at the bulge growing at the crotch of his jeans. So desperately trying to fight against what he really wants. Even when you’re serving it up in a pretty little package.

He makes no movement toward the door, which you take as a sign of letting go of at least some of his apprehension. Fingers grip the hem of your sweater, pulling it up and over your head, discarding it on your carpet along with your skirt.

Matching red satin material, the bra you’re wearing has a similar structure to your panties. Held up with straps and the usual clasps at the back, the front is a large gift bow, pulled tight when you tied it earlier this evening to push up the flesh of your breasts. One tug at the tail end of both the ribbons, the one at your chest and at your ass, would fully expose you to Joel. Something you’re desperate to propose to him.

“Aren’t you gonna unwrap your present, Joel?” Picking up each of his hands in yours, you guide one to your lower back and one to your chest, coaxing his fingers to wrap around the ends of the bows. “Or do you not like your gift? I thought you wanted this…”

“No, no, no. I like it. I really fucking like it, sweetheart, I just…Everybody’s downstairs and—”

“I can be quiet. I’m a good girl, Joel.”

That flips a switch in him, hearing those words from you. His eyes darken further, pink tongue poking out to wet his lips. A burning stare combs over you, head to toe, alighting flames in your gut that lick against your insides. Heat crawls across the back of your neck, pooling in your collarbone, and craving oozes between your ribs and between each of your vertebrae. Joel’s right hand lifts from his side, skating up the length of your left arm and leaving goosebumps rising in its wake. Fingertips ghost over the strap of your bra, down to the center of your collarbone, and sitting there. That lasts only a second before his long, thick fingers wrap around the base of your throat, raising his loose grip to settle underneath your jaw.

The silence is heavy, airy breaths the only sounds passed between the two of you. His hand at your neck coaxes your head to tip back, staring up at him looking down at you. A flicker to your lips. A low, curious hum. Arousal pools in between your thighs as you wait with bated breath for something, anything to happen.

“You’re dangerous, doll.” His whisper is coated in lust, his gaze greedy as it drinks you in once again.

“I’m a gift,” you correct sweetly, feigning innocence as a smirk grows on your face at his dark chuckle.

“A gift that keeps on giving?” he questions. His hand twists to allow his thumb to find your bottom lip, dragging across its glossy, cherry surface.

“I guess you’ll have to find out…” Your mouth stays open after speaking, tongue slipping out to lick the tip of Joel’s thumb. He presses his finger further, pushing between your lips as you welcome it, sucking gently. Joel sighs, shoulders relaxing while his eyes flash with need.

“Christ…” he hisses under his breath, shaking his head subtly before clearing his throat. Speaking sternly, unwavering, he says, “Can I unwrap my present, babydoll?”

His thumb leaves your mouth with a quiet pop, hand finding its place again at the slack of the bow at your chest, other arm wrapping around to find the bow at your ass. A gentle tug moves the satiny smooth material a few centimeters, not enough to pull it fully undone.

“All yours, Joel. Picked out ‘specially for you.” Joel smirks at your candied reply, eager to give him exactly what he’s been wishing for. What you’ve caught him staring at the last few times you’ve come back home. What you have been wanting for just as long, if not longer.

“Such a sweet girl. Beautiful girl.”

The words send a tingle down your spine, stoking the flames inside of you. Your eyes stay trained on Joel’s face while his fingers draw the bow at your chest undone, the lengths of material hanging at your sides and exposing your breasts. He licks his lips at the sight of your pebbled nipples, rolling out a stifled groan from his chest.

“Fuck, baby…S’pretty.”

Joel’s hands fan across your lower back, holding your hips against his, pressing his bulge into your covered mound. His broad frame folds forward, draping you backwards in his arms as his mouth attaches to your chest. Humid, open-mouthed kisses are littered across your skin, nips taken at the tender flesh of your breasts. Closing his lips around one of your nipples, he sucks strongly, pulling a whimper from your throat.

“Thought you could be quiet, doll?” he rasps, raising an eyebrow as he looks up at you from your sternum.

Nodding furiously, you pout your lower lip out, whispering back, “I can be, I will be. I promise.”

“You promise? Don’t make promises you can’t keep, baby.” Joel stands up straight, pulling you with him to press against his torso. Catching your lips in a deep kiss, Joel breathes a sigh into your mouth, melting his tongue against yours and drinking in the taste of you.

Dripping with saccharine sugar. Coated with syrupy goodness, plump and succulent like a maraschino cherry. A toothache, or maybe even a heartache waiting to happen.

He’s fucking screwed, but damn if it doesn’t feel good as he nails himself to his own persecution from whoever may find out about this.

Handfuls of your undulating curves fill his palms as he kisses you, groaning into your mouth as he grabs at the swell of your ass. Silky satin brushes against his hand, reminding him of the other part of his present to unwrap. Pulling away from your mouth with one last lick of your candied taste, he has the mind to imagine what the rest of your flavors all across your body might be.

Joel turns you in his arms, back flush to his chest as he grinds his bulge against the lustrous fabric, smirking to himself as you whimper quietly, so hushed he can barely hear it over his heartbeat thudding in his ears. Lips coast over the shell of your ear, nibbling your lobe before pressing a kiss right below.

“Can I undo your other pretty bow, babygirl? Unwrap the rest of my present?” Joel nips again when you breathe out consent. He walks you closer to the bed, hitting your knees against the frame before he takes one step back, touch still lingering on your skin. From behind you, he sighs appreciatively as he drinks in your form, licking his lips as his eyes devour you.

Pinching the ribbon between his thick fingers, he flicks it against your skin, satisfied with the way you react with goosebumps raised. One gentle tug unravels it all, exposing your cheeks to him fully and with the drop of the material from between his fingertips, your panties fall to the floor. One hand wrapping around your thigh, Joel coaxes you to step out to the side with it, kicking the fabric from your ankle.

He kneels behind you, pressing his lips against the swell of your ass. Flooded with the scent of your skin, vanilla and cinnamon, the smell of Christmas. Nose smashed into the supple flesh, teeth sinking into the curve, a gentle bite stealing another taste of you. A curse is mumbled against you, a sweet kiss pressed on the tiny birthmark on your ass, tongue tracing into the fading bite mark.

“Joel…” you whine above him, hand reaching back and nimble fingers tangling into his messy, gray curls.

“I know, doll. Got lost there for a second. You’re so perfect…”

He sighs again, standing up with a quiet crack in his joints. A blatant reminder of the difference between you two. Young versus old. Sprightly versus verging on doddering. Even if he is eager, there’s no denying the difference.

There’s no doubt in your mind that Joel’s about to be more of a gift to you than you are to him. The way he’s touching you, delicate worship before he’s even gotten to what he truly wants, taking his time despite the pressure of the party downstairs. Serves as a reassurance that he wants this as much as you do, wants to take his sweet time if this is going to be his only chance.

You pray to god it isn’t. Even before you’ve even laid eyes on his cock, you just know. He’s going to fuck you senseless. Ruin every other man for you.

In a blur, he guides you to fall forward onto the mattress, hooking fingers to remove your panties from your other ankle while you scoot toward the center. He finds solace between your legs, propping your hips up into a kneeling position to give him easier leverage.

“Think this might be my favorite present I’ve been given, doll. So fucking gorgeous. Looking delectable…Can I have a taste, darling? You as sweet as you seem?”

Your head is turned sideways, laying against the plush comforter, opening your mouth to whisper to him in the same moment he swipes his tongue through your folds, groaning into your inner thigh before he dives back in, working to devour you like a man starved, quenching his thirst on your arousal. Flicking his tongue against your pearl, coated in your translucence, suckling at it with pure need. Turning to press the front of your face into your bedding, it muffles your moans and whines, raising in pitch as he fucks your tight cunt with his strong tongue, lapping at you with the same fervor he’d lick the color from a candy cane.

“Fuck, Joel, fuck fuck fuck!” you shout in a scouring voice, scratching your vocal chords together with a strain. Curling your fingers into the softened, washed fabric, you gasp when one of his solid fingers slips into your walls. He groans, holding back his louder reaction to your gripping walls, hypnotized by the way you even stretch around his fingers when he adds another.

Head against your thigh, he studies the way you take his middle and ring fingers, the velvety slick of your pussy, and the spongy spot he finds, curling his digits to press into it and watch you squirm helplessly from the sensitive pleasure.

“Talkin’ all well mannered and pretty. So quiet and polite all the time. With your ‘yes’sir’s and ‘please’s and ‘thank you’s. You think about saying those to me while you’re under me like this?”

“Yes, yes’sir. All the fucking time. Every time I—I looked at you, felt myself…felt myself gettin’ so fucking wet. Was always dripping around you, waiting for something to happen. For you to take me so I can be a good girl for you, sir,” you confess, obedience and need sitting every word so prettily into his ears. “M’so—Fuck m’gonna come, Joel.”

He nods slowly, taking last looks at your cunt before he moves his fingers in and out quicker, dipping his chin down for his mouth to find your clit against, lapping at your dripping wetness and sucking hard. At the next press of his fingers against that spot inside of you, your vision grows blurred, white haze painting everything with a dreamlike filter. You bite into the linen fabric of your comforter, gagging yourself to keep quiet as you come, digging the balls of your feet to the mattress to push yourself away from Joel who continues to work you through it. He grabs at you, tugging you back to get his fill until you sob, overstimulation drawing tears up to the corners of your eyes.

“All kept and composed and ladylike. Been taught to behave, haven’t you? Bet you fucking love to be such a little slut. Anybody ever let you? Such a dirty girl, aren’t you, babydoll?” Joel’s voice sounds distanced at first, senses falling back into place in your body as you come down completely. His work-worn hands coast over your body, roughening against your soft skin like sandpaper moving with the grain. Little resistance but catching in places it favors.

“Just—Just for you, Daddy.” It slips out smoothly from your mouth, the weight of the title heavy against your tongue in the same way you imagine his cock would feel. Filling. Satisfying.

Joel rises slowly from where he’s bent behind you, letting one leg fall behind him as he stands, the other propped on the bed. His eyes narrow in on yours, lips parted and tongue darting out as he replays what you said.

Daddy.

First, you’re already on his mind and years younger, yet he couldn’t stop picturing you in this exact position. Next, you’re the one to make the first move, dragging him away from this Christmas party and presenting him with a Secret Santa gift that feels way out of the budget. You’re priceless. And now, you’re laid out for him, already nearly at the level of fucked out from him only using his mouth and fingers, and you’re fucking calling him Daddy.

Best Christmas of his goddamn life.

“Now, darlin’, were you saving that to be the cherry on top of the cake? ‘Cause that’s just about the sweetest thing. My pretty lil’ babydoll saying she’s Daddy’s dirty girl,” he scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head while his fingers work his button open on his jeans, dragging the zipper down against his throbbing bulge. “Gonna have to be quiet, yeah? Gotta keep your sweet mouth closed while Daddy fucks you, doll.”

“I’ll be quiet, promise. Please, Daddy.” Your pleas widen Joel’s smirk, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips once again. He pushes his denim down with his cotton boxers in their wake, sighing softly when his hard cock is fully freed. His tip is aching and red, leaking precum and leaving a wet spot on his underwear. With one hand, he starts to slowly stroke himself, holding in a moan enough that it leaves his lips as a soft exhale.

“Good girl…” he mumbles, studying your form. “Move back toward me, babygirl. Hands behind your back.”

Complying with his direction, you inch back until Joel places a hand on your lower back. At that, you lay forward again, the side of your face pressing against the duvet as Joel steps back from the bed and searches the floor. A dribble of drool drips from the corner of your lips as you watch him, one large hand around his cock, spreading his precum along his length. Part of you has the mind to beg for him in your mouth, to completely disregard the need pulsating your cunt at the moment, and to feel his warm spend coating your throat as he finishes fucking it.

But you’re fucking selfish. This is also a gift for you, so win-win.

Pressing your wrists together at your lower back, you observe as Joel locates what he is looking for, standing up with a devilish smirk. Your panties.

He towers over you again when he steps back to you, one hand coasting over the curve of your ass, a gentle smack delivered that makes a quiet yelp escape from your lips. The same hand skims back up your skin, easily grabbing both of your wrists in his long fingers and holding them closer while he slips the silky material behind. In a quick motion, he has your arms tied together with a bow, a content smile on his face as he makes eye contact with you.

“Wrapped all up again, babydoll. Such a pretty gift for me.”

“Well you’ve got a pretty package, Daddy,” you reply with a mischievous giggle, earning a breathy chuckle from Joel behind you. He grips the knot of your makeshift restraint, tugging taut to arch your back and pull your hips closer. His other hand wraps around the base of himself, dragging the head of him through your drenched folds, circling your clit, and chuckling again at the jump of your thighs.

“Please, Daddy, I need—” you start pleading, muffled into linen before you’re cut off by the stretch of Joel’s cock filling your tight hole, a gasp escaping your lungs with a punch. Your mouth is stuffed with the duvet from your bite down, nursing your tongue against the material as he slowly presses into you, inch by inch. There’s an ever-so-slight pain candy-coating the pleasure, melting away to get to the gooey, oozing center that spreads over your entire body.

Pausing when he reaches the hilt of himself, Joel sighs, rolling his head back as he internally thanks whatever Christmas magic must be out there for this moment.

“So fucking tight, baby.”

Your dampened whine shoots a wave of intense need throughout him, growling low as he holds your restraint tighter, dragging his hips back before he starts a punishing pace. Control escapes him, desire taking over his actions as he starts to properly fuck you. His cock teaching you how to take every single inch of it.

Messes of his name and your moans are stifled and stuttered into the comforter gagging you, chest hovering over the mattress as Joel holds tight to the knot in your panties.

“Can’t hold back any longer, baby, jus’—fuck—jus’ gonna take Daddy’s cock like a good girl, aren’t ya?” The only precision remains in the soft cracks of skin on skin, not loud enough to draw any attention from the party downstairs. Poppy carols play faintly in the background, the only other soundtrack being the vulgar mumbles slipping from Joel’s lips.

Drawing you closer and closer, the edge is tasted on your tongue, so close but barely in reach as the man behind you rocks his hips, the tip of his hard cock brushing that same spongy spot inside of you that he managed to reach with his fingers, bruising into your cervix with each snap.

At the next drag-out, Joel pulls away from you completely. When you whine with protest, he’s tugging you to stand up on your knees, whispering in your ear amid his quick movements, “Need to see your face when I make you come all over my cock…”

Before you can be left with any thoughts to a response, he’s flipping you onto your back, hands tied still, and tugging you near again. He steals a pillow from the top of your bed, shoving it under your hips to lift your pelvis, gifting himself the perfect angle to thrust into you again from the height he stands at.

The new angle punches out moans from your chest, Joel’s name littering the empty room as you try so hard to remain quiet.

“Shh, I know, doll, I know. Feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? Y’love bein’ Daddy’s little slut.” Nodding furiously, another louder moan leaves your mouth, brows knit together with worry as you hurtle closer and closer to the edge.

A large palm moves to cover your mouth, shaking his head slowly to remind you of your promise to be his good girl, his quiet girl.

“Pleasepleaseplease, Daddy…” He feels the vibrations of your voice against his hand, the words muddled into slight nonsense from pleasure clouding your brain. Joel holds onto one of your legs, pulling it up to hook onto his shoulder and press forward to get deeper inside of you. The switch has you screaming into his palm, eyes squeezing shut as you squirm under him.

“Eyes on me, babygirl. Keep your eyes on Daddy.”

Joel’s hips pound into you, chasing his own climax. Your eyes snap open at his instruction, mouthing at his hand and moaning loudly behind it, nodding your head furiously. Your tight walls squeeze around his hard cock, his grunts held back to keep quiet despite the noise of the party downstairs growing in volume.

“Come on, doll. Come on my cock…Fuck, you gonna let Daddy fill up your pretty little cunt?” The quick, speechless nods answers his question, both of you toeing the edge.

There’s a moment when both of you seize up, muscles tense and eyes burning into each other’s. It only lasts a split second before it explodes with a pop, at the same second a champagne bottle pops downstairs. Joel breathes out your name, over and over, mingling with your whimpers of his name and Daddy switching back and forth in your mind. Interchangeable to you.

Pleasure fizzes over your bodies like bubbles in the flutes being filled, the bubbling aerations trickling up up up to your head, making you feel lighter than air as pure bliss overwhelms you. Tingles aftershock across your nerves, a shiver sent down your spine as Joel pulls out.

Quietly, he groans as he watches his excess spend drip out of you, mixing with your come and glistening against your folds. One thick finger swipes at the spot, pushing the swirl of you back inside of your walls.

A soft whimper slips from your lips and Joel’s eyes meet yours in a flash, a gentle smile stretching across your face. He coaxes you to sit up and unties your hands behind your back, slowly massaging your wrists with his thumbs and kissing where the skin rubbed against the fabric. The tender touches accompany the soothing, comfortable silence.

Redressing you, Joel attempts to tie the bows of your bra and panties, huffing softly in frustration. You giggle when he’s working on your bra, taking his chin gingerly between your fingers and turning his head to look at you. Leaning in, his lips catch yours in a sweet, sugary gumdrop kiss.

It’s another moment before both of you are fully dressed again. You study yourself in the mirror above your dresser, smoothing your hair down. Joel steps up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and kissing your shoulder through the knit sweater. He turns you around to face him again, grinning shyly as his eyes comb over your face.

The two of you share another kiss, his calloused hand cradling your cheek when he pulls away.

“You gonna be under my tree again on Christmas day, doll?”

“Depends…Were you naughty or nice this year?” you counter, earning a quiet laugh from Joel as he shakes his head.

“Think what just happened has put me on the naughty list for a long time, babygirl. And you, too.” He shoots you a cheeky wink and you laugh, shaking your head as you lock your fingers together in front of you.

“I did actually get you something though…” you admit shyly, rocking back and forth on the heels of your feet.

Joel grins, eyes flicking down to your anxious hands. His thumb brushes against the skin of your cheek, eyes meeting yours again as he replies, “You have another gift for me? Didn’t need to do that, doll.”

“I mean…Kinda needed a backup plan if this whole thing didn’t work out.” A chuckle is shared between both of you before you continue, “Sorry for spoiling the whole guessing game of Secret Santa.”

“Darlin’, you could spoil any games for me if it ends up with this kinda surprise.” Joel smirks before stealing another quick kiss, pulling away when you step back to fish out the small, meticulously wrapped giftbox from the top right drawer of your dresser.

Handing over the square package, Joel’s eyes glitter with boyish excitement. The corner of his mouth pulls up to one side while his thick fingers slip under the creases of the paper to rip the tape, undoing the festive wrapping to reveal the lidded giftbox that he opens quickly. Inside, Joel studies the contents. Small triangles with rounded corners made from thin nylon plastic. A deep emerald green, all sitting like precious gemstones. His initials are branded into one side with gold paint, the flip side emblemed with the silhouette of an owl.

“Sweetheart…Thank you. These are real nice…” he speaks softly while he picks one up between his index and thumb, turning it between the tips of his fingers. “They’re perfect. Gonna be sad if I end up losing one of these like all my other picks.”

You smile sweetly, stepping closer again and resting your hands on his biceps, “Guess you’ll have to take good care of ‘em.”

As he looks at you, he mirrors your smile, sharing one more gentle kiss before whispering against your lips, “Can think of another something I have to take good care of.”

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punkbarbarian · 2 months

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for folks who don’t follow them on instagram— ally beardsley wrote part of an op-ed in the washington post for the 50th dnd anniversary about a moment playing dnd that really stuck with them and i wanted to share it here!

“a character’s journey — and my own”

I was an aspiring comedian in Los Angeles and had just landed a salaried job at the comedy website CollegeHumor. My co-worker and friend Brennan Lee Mulligan was looking for six comedians to create a show that would be like an at-home game of D&D. Why not? “Dimension 20” became a weird punctuation to my day.

I remember there being too many rules to remember. I kept turning to my friend, Brian Murphy, to ask which dice I should be rolling. I wasn’t paid overtime, but I loved the group and was having a lot of fun.

For the second season, I had my sea legs. I created a character for the campaign who was transgender. I had started going by the gender neutral they/them pronouns at work and among friends, but sourcing hormones or getting surgery seemed equal parts expensive and invasive. A fun thing about fantasy is stripping away the crunchy, real-world limitations and asking yourself: “What would I do if I could do anything?”  That season’s arc for my character, Pete, was extremely euphoric for me. I had described him as a trans cowboy you might see at Burning Man, and the artist drew him dressed as a freaky Hunter S. Thompson in an open shirt to show his top surgery scars. He has wild magic — uncontrollable and dangerous in the game mechanics — which we used to explore the painful chaos of leaving a family that doesn’t accept you.

Since then, I’ve started testosterone HRT and had top surgery. It’s funny to listen back to myself playing a character who had transitioned in ways I hadn’t. It’s full of inaccuracies that make me smile. Pete takes a testosterone pill every day; I now know it’s a weekly injection or a topical gel. I see my face, one wrapped up in playing something so new but instantly right. It was like an oracle. A near-future me who has health insurance! Who’s talked to their mom about being trans and even spent a week post-top surgery on that mom’s couch in Temecula, Calif!

As I started transitioning my appearance, seeing that in front of the camera felt raw. I was starting hormones, and my voice was cracking. Realizing it was all being recorded felt naked at times, but it has been really nice to talk to fans and friends about how important it is to see someone that looks like you taking a big risk on themself.

With Pete, it was really important to me to tell a story other than the dramatic lead-up to a medical transition. So we started with him having just gotten out of surgery, but that’s all you see of that process. Part of his backstory is that he doesn’t have a relationship with his transphobic parents, and before shooting the first episode, I felt sick to my stomach. I’ve been on a journey with my parents, and our starting place didn’t have much common ground. When my character meets with his father, it felt as though I was actually running into my own on the street.  Brennan could sense that discomfort, and as my character’s dad was about to call Pete by his deadname, Brennan shut the interaction down, surrounding his dad with bubbles that carried him into the sky. Magic is the power and freedom to manipulate your reality, and you can banish the awful voices in your life — let them swirl away into the air.

#made me emo a little #talking #ally beardsley #d20 #pete conlan

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dunmesh · 3 months

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i was genuinely killed by the fact kabru's real name being "unknown" is due to him not being able to remember how his mother used to call him. and now i can't stop thinking about this child trying so hard to remember his loved ones only to have the most grotesque images come to mind. as we read the manga the only glimpses of his life in utaya we get to see are those tragic moments when he lost everything, and i find it interesting that the first time us readers get to know of his past at all is through him being triggered by food.

but then we get to chapters 61-62 and for the first time during the story, he mentions the memory of something other than the horrors- and in direct parallel to earlier in the manga, it's a dish his mother used to cook. the guy who is shown to have a hard time taking care of himself in his pursuit of his goals is forced to focus on someone else's wellbeing which also results in him making more effort for his own sake as well, and so in an attempt to care for and comfort someone else he ends up trying to recreate one of the few fond memories he has left. and it's so simple; the memory of a child and mother sharing a meal together. it's so incredibly sad but also comforting, hopeful in a way- her voice, her touch, her face, they're all out of reach now. he may never remember his mother lovingly calling his name. but there is one thing he can surely still feel even all these years later: the taste of the food she worked so hard to make and put on the table. and it's not just him. through senshi and marcille as well as other characters, we see it time and time again. how among many other things, food is also a way to preserve your home. to preserve your love.

#i think him not being able to properly make the lamb stew is also a testimony to how he still didn't “get there” in this part of his journey #it's only after his confrontation with laios that his character arc is completed #okay now i need an extra comic abt him finally eating the lamb stew i need this catharsis #😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#just to clarify i am talking strictly abt his memories of utaya not anything after that #dungeon meshi #kabru

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planetaryupscaled · 3 months

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Tutoring 2: Hall Pass

Male Reader x Park Sooyoung (Joy)

Tags: 9k, age-gap, cheating, creampie, cuckold

The story is not ours; we simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.

“So you’re not mad?” Sooyoung asked her husband as they sat down at the kitchen table... the same place where I’ve had my way with her so many times.

“I don’t think I am,” Hyoseob answered, truthfully.

He tried to imagine what it would have been like for me and Sooyoung in the school shower, and then in the car. He tried to picture her glistening pussy lips around my throbbing dick, and how I licked and caressed her dear wife. How much better was it that his dutiful wife chose infidelity not once, but twice. She cheated, willingly, despites of the rules, and this thought made his loins burn. Sooyoung was behaving like a wanton slut, which was in stark contrast to her prideful personality.

Among all the rules broken, the rule about it being recorded was the only one he truly hoped she would follow. But deep down, he wanted her to break the rules over and over again, and he only wanted to watch. He had that burning desire, but he couldn’t admit it, especially to Sooyoung.

“I don’t like admitting it, but he makes it kinda hard to resist,” Sooyoung stated, averting her gaze. “He’s so much different from what you think he’d be. His thrusts are so deliberate and so skillfully measured and confident. It makes me so-” she said, unable to finish her sentence.

“Like just that one shower,” she rambled on, “I have no idea why I was so... receptive of his touch! I didn’t have it in mind to cheat at all and... suddenly it was already happening. I’m sorry, but his lips and his hands were so-”

Sooyoung stopped again. Her hands started fidgeting. The guilt was palpable, dripping from her words. Hyoseob had to make sure she was okay. He knew it was selfish, but he wanted to witness it himself, to see his wife being plowed like a wanton slut.

“Minho kissed you?” He probed. “Tell me.”

“Yes, well,” Sooyoung blushed and shrugged, “it was more intense and... amazing.”

“You kiss him back?” He asked again.

“A lot, actually. And... our tongues too,” she whispered in reply.

She was telling him everything, how it was just intense, amazing sex, that my abilities and stamina far outweighed his, but it was also just physical pleasure with no emotional attachment or love. Sooyoung swore to her husband that I meant nothing to her. He had to talk her into another meeting with me, this time with the recorder.

“Sounds like Minho has a fan,” He teased Sooyoung, but his tone gave him away. His heart pounded with both anxiety and excitement. Sooyoung cherished sex, and now she had shared it with someone other than him.

“Oh shut up,” Sooyoung said, but with a smile just lingering under the surface.

“So, what was the thing he said again?” Hyoseob asked.

“Yeah,” Sooyoung admitted as Hyoseob laid on top of her, “he said something like... ‘I’ll fuck you whenever I want.’” Her imitation of it was less than flattering.

“You want that?” Hyoseob dared to ask, excited at the idea of his lovely wife being taken against her will, during dubious consent, thrust into a willing participant by the magnificent skill of someone else.

“Maybe...” she purred, urging him to move his hips. Her admission sent shockwaves through him, as guilt and jealousy drove him deeper into his wife.

“And, ah, you wanted him to knock you up?” He asked, going a bit faster.

“Hyoseob, it was j-just talk,” Sooyoung purred. “I was just stroking his ego. But it worked. He cum so much inside me.”

“Yeah?” He panted.

“Yeah, babe.” she breathed. “So much. So thick, it clung to me.”

His breathing quickened as his mind conjured the image of Sooyoung sprawled beneath someone else in her car, in a damn near public parking lot. It didn’t take him long to cum deep inside her, unable to resist her words and description. She was more turned on by her cheating than he could have ever hoped for, so he told her that they needed it again and more. With the promise of more, they both fell into a deep slumber.

—

“I think we should stick with handjobs... reinforce the rules.,” Sooyoung suggested to her husband as she had scheduled another ‘Tutoring’ with me after school on Tuesday, but she was having second thoughts, wanting to reestablish the control they had lost. “I don’t think I want to have sex... with Minho again.”

“What?” Hyoseob asked, not believing his wife. “You’re joking,” He added. “If I sent you over there right now, you really think you’d only jerk him off?”

“Yeah?” Sooyoung answered unconvincingly.

He gave her a wry smile. “Then do it,” he said. “I’m giving you a hall pass to prove me wrong.” You haven’t done any ‘tutoring’ this week anyway.”

“Babe!” Sooyoung exclaimed, taken aback. “I can’t do that. It’s against the rules. And we were having this week off, remember?”

“That’s the point of a hall pass,” He chuckled, excited to see his wife relent. “Besides, you’d only be jerking him off, right? That’s well within the rules, even if it’s a hall pass.”

Sooyoung didn’t respond right away. She closed her eyes, trying not to be tempted by the challenge. It was as though she was afraid, afraid that she would succumb and more, prove him right in doing so.

“Don’t... don’t tempt me,” she said, finally. “Minho knows how to bend a girl to his will, honey.” She then cringed at her choice of words.

“Which is?” Hyoseob asked with a wide, hopeful smile.

She looked at him and then out into space. A smile spread across her lips, and her hand moved to his thigh.

“Just remember to record,” he said.

“Hey, I didn’t say I’m going over,” Sooyoung shot back, gently punching him with her other hand. “Remember, he got inside me last week, despite the rules. Twice, even. It’s... hard to resist him.”

“You said as much earlier,” He reminded.

“Yeah, he just feels amazing and does things that-” Sooyoung began before correcting herself. “…never mind.”

“That I can’t do?” Hyoseob said, finishing her sentence. Sooyoung’s silence spoke volumes, she took a breath, steadying her nerves. Then her eyes flashed in his direction, a devious expression growing.

“Okay,” Sooyoung said, “I’ll go, to prove you wrong.”

—

‘Im coming over,’ Sooyoung wrote, and soon after I met her once again at this house, and let her in through the back door. As it wasn’t conspicuous enough that Hyoseob’s wife snuck hurriedly across the street, looking up and down the street to make sure no one noticed.

“What about your parents?” Sooyoung whispered.

“Away, they usually are during the weekends,” I reassured, ushering her to their bedroom.

When we got through the door, I began feeling her up, eagerly ravaging her curvaceous yet trim body. Sooyoung initially did not react because she was unsure what to do. As my hands found their way to her soft, round ass, she began responding by kissing back with even more hunger. My fingers dug hungrily into the flesh hidden by her tight spandex pants. The ass she kept in shape for her husband. She hadn’t worn underwear, but she sure could feel my fingers running up and down her cheeks and inner thighs. Sooyoung spread them out, inviting me to go deeper.

Instead of shoving my fingers into her clothed fabric, I pushed her down onto the bed. My hands slid into the waistband and rolled her pants up her long legs. She lifted her hips as I tugged, letting the spandex to roll along with her panties.

“I can’t believe it’s been a week already,” I said, quickly removing her pink, silky, patterned top, revealing her round, fat tits, and tossing it over her other clothes.

“Damn, your tits look fucking nice,”

Sooyoung smiled as I stared at her body, groping and rubbing her left breast. My thick, erect member was tenting in my sweats. I pressed her tits together, climbed on top of her, and began licking all over them.

‘This is getting out of control,’ she thought. “C’mon, Minho,” Sooyoung whispered, pushing me to get my attention. Instead of slowing down, I licked and sucked her soft, creamy neck. “Minho… oh shit,” she whimpered, goosebumps rushing through her.

At some point, I must have angled my sweats down, because Sooyoung felt my swollen cock press against her opening, threatening entry. Her slit, wet with arousal, opened for me as I began sliding into this lovely wife.

“Unnnng,” Sooyoung groaned, helplessly succumbing to my touch, her pussy aching with anticipation.

It forces Sooyoung to admit her pleasure. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation. Sooyoung moaned in satisfaction, wrapping her arms tightly around my shoulders and neck. She knew her husband couldn’t compete in length, width, or technique, but feeling my size stretch and touch places that were severely under-stimulated brought her to new heights.

“I thought we were waiting till Tuesday,” I hummed as I lowered myself and dove into her neck once more. My cock slid almost completely into her tight warm hole, and my movements became quick, fluid motions that allowed me to pull almost completely out before driving deep inside.

“We were... ohhh,” Sooyoung groaned.

I was prepared to stretch, ruin, and ravish her, and all she planned was a handjob? The absurdity made her smile as she ran her fingernails up and down my back, enjoying the sensation of her tight pussy being stretched wide by someone that’s not her husband.

“Couldn’t wait, huh?” I teased.

“Hyoseob dared me to come over here and just jerk you off,” Sooyoung admitted, smiling up at me with a light sheen of sweat.

“How did that go?” I asked cheekily.

“Shut up,” Sooyoung smiled, squeezing me between her walls.

“Fuu-uck,” I groaned, shuffling my hips between her legs. “Nngg, you’re really gonna let me knock you up someday, aren’t you?”

“Hnnng, you keep that up and, oh god, maybe I will,” she gasped.

“Really? You like this cock knocking up your womb?” I pressed.

“Oh fuck,” Sooyoung hissed.

Sooyoung was getting increasingly vocal, moans of delight sounding out throughout the empty house as I kept slamming into her. My eyes were fixed on the beautiful teacher’s exposed breasts, rolling and flopping back and forth every time my body touched hers. Her nails clawed my back, and I grunted, feeling her walls tighten with each thrust. Her slickened insides massaging my dick, preparing for the next load...

I felt the cum start to boil over and surge to the end of my shaft. My cock was throbbing madly within her until it began releasing its hot fluids. I kept pumping, squirting over and over as I closed my eyes in satisfaction. Sooyoung felt her cunt ripple and pulse with each eruption. Her own juices flowed around the spewing shaft, coating my cock and dripping in a pool on the sheets under her.

I looked down at her. Her beautiful cheeks were flushed red and glistened with sweat. I pulled her head closer, pressing my forehead against hers, hanging low and grazing her face as I buried my softening dick in her womb, hoping to delay leaving her silky depths. She still moaned, feeling a gentle pumping within her. Sooyoung sighed, and we kissed.

—

Hyoseob smirked knowingly when his disheveled wife finally came through the door later that evening. Sooyoung didn’t even try to hide the slight waddle she’d acquired from the fucking, which made him snort a little laugh. She responded with a defiant glare, challenging him.

“We shouldn’t fool around with hall passes,” Sooyoung muttered, chuckling lightly.

“Did you record?”

“Not the first time...” Sooyoung said, a crooked smile creasing her face as she looked at him.

“How many times...” Hyoseob asked, trailing off. Sooyoung had been over there for two hours.

“How many...” she stalled. “Erm, three. Plus some foreplay here and there...”

“You slut!” He chided with a big grin.

“It’s your fault!” Sooyoung shot back. “Besides, how could you dare send him over there in the first place?!”

Hyoseob was as hard as a stone when he heard the news. Sooyoung pretended to be mad, but it was clear she enjoyed the whole experience.

“So… can we watch together?” He asked, hoping to experience some of his wife’s deviousness together.

“Oh yes, just make sure to hit ‘fast forward’ to skip all the dumb and unnecessary things. Minho was trying so hard to get me to clean his cock or whatever, but hell if I’m ever taking his dirty thing into my mouth... especially after sex... It smelled of us for gods’ sake.”

Hyoseob patted the seat beside him on the couch, inviting her to join him, but Sooyoung hesitated.

“Here?” she asked, rendering him a bit confused.

“Yeah? You’ve done stuff with Minho here, so what’s the big deal?”

“Nothing. You’re right,” Sooyoung decided and plopped down beside him.

She took the phone from her bag, a seductive smile on her face. It was clear the experience had opened a door Sooyoung hadn’t really anticipated. Now his wife seemed to be warming up to the idea of being intimate with another person, even if it was pure sex.

“So, before we watch this, we need to talk about the rules,” Sooyoung declared.

“Oh, come on!” He pouted.

“No, listen. I want the rules. The rules were: you need to be able to watch, you need to be able to say no, no intercourse, and once a week. We’ve broken all of them more or less. I told Minho before He left that we needed to abide by the rules from now on, that this evening was an exception. He can’t just fuck me whenever he wants... and vice versa I guess,” Sooyoung said.

“Abide by the rules from now on? Including ‘no intercourse’?” He asked. Sooyoung blushed at that.

“Well... I kinda thought you didn’t mind if we left that rule out from now on,” she said, somewhat shyly.

Sooyoung made a very strong point. Not one he had expected from her, either. Not just the sex rule, but generally. It was necessary to have some control over these things. Minho’s effect on her had become quite apparent. It was sex without consequences, and great sex at that. As a guy, he could relate. But her suggesting to snip that rule seemed so... it was just much more impactful.

“I think you have a point,” He agreed. “It was something that was out of our control, but now that the heat of the moment is over, it makes sense.”

Sooyoung smiled her response, but Hyoseob had a question.

“Just now, you didn’t want to watch the video on the couch. And before, you let Minho do you from behind, something you never let me. Is this a theme I’m sensing? Does Minho get to do stuff that I don’t? Like...” He trailed off, and his eyes shifted, staring intensely into hers.

“Well, yeah...” Sooyoung replied. “Isn’t that what you wanted though?”

Hyoseob gulped, realizing she was right. It was part of it, for him to give her experiences, he never could. He hadn’t thought that would mean ‘experiences he never would’, though perhaps not with such emphasis on ‘never’.

Sooyoung having experiences with others that should have been reserved for her husband, and then denying him the same liberties, was the ultimate tease. Sooyoung’s exploration of her sexuality with men other than him was an incredible thrill.

“I mean, yeah.” He relented and admitted.

“Good,” she purred. “Wanna watch me get fucked from behind?”

Sooyoung wasn’t shy of cursing, but hearing her put it so bluntly, combined with his knowledge that she was going to willingly cheat and break their wedding vows for some kid, sent a sharp heat straight to his balls. He’d never seen his wife like this, and she was irresistible.

“I want everything.” Hyoseob declared.

She giggled at that. She looked amazing. She was absolutely radiant; sexy, confident, and free. Sooyoung looked at him tenderly and lovingly, a sweet, promising look that only served to stir the building excitement and burning arousal.

There were three videos in total. One shorter, and two longer.

“We’ll probably have to save the last one for a rainy day,” she teased sensually in his ear, her hand trailing down onto his slack-covered bulge.

The first one showed Minho’s point of view of Sooyoung on her back, topless and with his massive cock between her breasts. She rubbed them up and down, looking up with desire and lust as his veiny appendage emerged and disappeared between her magnificent bosom. Hyoseob loins flared up as He was able to appreciate the sexual play at such close range and with Sooyoung’s large, firm orbs being groped and abused so well. Minho really knew how to push a woman’s buttons, he thought. It didn’t take long before his semen erupted from its tip, splattering over his wife’s chin, cheeks, and nose...

��He’s so virile... he gets hard again so fast... perks of being a young stud, I guess,” Sooyoung muttered. Hyoseob quickly shoved his pants down so she could get better access to his raging erection.

She was right when she said they’d probably save the last one, because He doubted he’d last all the way through the second video. The one Sooyoung hinted that she got fucked from behind. A view he never had.

Sooyoung clicked the video and resumed stroking him.

The angle on the video showed Sooyoung naked silhouette cascaded by the dimly lit room. Sooyoung, hands against the wall, presenting her fat ass.

“Ohh that looks like an ass that’s had some workouts,” Minho said from behind the phone’s lens.

“Less chatting and more pounding,” Sooyoung’s voice called from the dark.

Minho placed the phone on what Hyoseob guess was a dresser, facing the camera towards the back of his bent-over wife, her perfect figure illuminated perfectly by the nearby light, a tantalizing silhouette that invited and begged to be pounded. Minho’s hulking frame stepped close and shoved himself roughly into her waiting slit.

“Oh... oh-oh!” Sooyoung moaned, her hands suddenly clenching and gripping tighter against the wall, her hips twitching. “Harder. Fuck!” she begged.

Hyoseob turned his eyes from the video screen towards the same body parts, seeing the same hips on the couch next to him that Minho was grasping on the video as he fucked his lovely wife. Sooyoung noticed, her smile deepening. The sound of bodies slapping echoed from the device. Minho growled, grasping her tighter and pulling her to him as his hips rocked and pummeled his wife’s magnificent ass. Sooyoung’s large ass was quivering with the impacts and bounced, the flesh wobbling back and forth hypnotically. Minho fucked her mercilessly, relentlessly, hammering her from behind, but with deliberate purpose. Sooyoung started making a high-pitched sound. He had never seen her so receptive.

“Jesus, you really like that, huh?” Hyoseob breathed. Minho was fucking his wife so roughly.

Sooyoung merely nodded, as if embarrassed, turning her face to hide in the seat cushions. Minho grabbed and pulled her arms, pushing her back against him with a forceful thrust, burying his entire length deep inside her. Sooyoung’s walls trembled around him, squeezing his giant girth, wanting more. Minho eased most of his shaft out before plowing slowly, churning her insides with his cock, giving her a moment of relief. But it was temporary and she shuddered once again, clamping down and throbbing around the huge length.

“Unnnggh- Unnnng- Unnng,” she let out with each long, hard thrust.

Hyoseob’s eyes bulged as he watched his wife cum on another man’s cock, knowing she was experiencing something He could never give her to that extent.

“God! Harder! HARDER!” Sooyoung cried, and just like that Hyoseob came to the sounds of Minho fucking his wife better than He ever could.

“Christ!” the present Sooyoung said, sounding somewhat disgusted as his cum trickled over her hand. “You could’ve said something! I’d gotten a towel!”

Sooyoung rose up and headed off to the nearest bedroom to clean her hand.

—

Sooyoung couldn’t really concentrate the following day. A few times, she caught herself staring off into space, thinking of how nice Minho’s long, thick cock felt when he was on top of her, pummeling her body. But she had to go the entire weekend, and then some, before she could have it again. In her mind, that was simply too long a time to wait to get off like she did last night.

But it wasn’t just sex that had her brain distracted. The conversation with Hyoseob had gotten Sooyoung thinking of all sorts of dirty, taboo ideas. Hyoseob had admitted he liked it when she did things with Minho, such as exploring new things. Giving up some of her firsts for Minho, even. Like doggy, or a fucking her tits. She wasn’t sure what that entailed, or what she could do with that information, but she stored it away in her mind.

Sooyoung spent the rest of the weekend running track, lifting weights, and other physical activities to force her life back into normalcy, in addition to her school work. She decided she didn’t want sex to dictate her life, so while she looked forward to tutoring Minho on Tuesday, she dedicated her time to her life’s chores and commitments.

—

‘What are we doing for the tutoring?’ I texted her when she arrived at school on Monday. ‘Can we meet between classes? I need some help to get my balls drained before class so I can focus ;)’

‘Stop it, Minho,’ was all she replied, feeling a tingle of warmth and arousal ran down her spine nonetheless.

‘I was just kidding’ I replied.

I had responded with some teasing ‘Are you going to be wet on Tuesday’ and ‘Can’t stop thinking about it’ but eventually didn’t push it any further. She would assume I was probably too afraid to scare her off for the upcoming sessions, regardless of how horny I was. But throughout the day, Sooyoung felt increasingly needy herself, unable to resist fantasizing about our upcoming session.

It was hard for her to understand how her student having such a big dick had her so riled up... though some of my otherworldly skill probably had something to do with it. In addition to my prowess, I had been respectful. She supposed not every boy would have behaved so well and been so understanding, even if I relentlessly teased her for doing far more than the rules allowed.

Though my skill in the bedroom, the only reason Sooyoung would ever return to me was the thrill and pleasure it gave her husband. Hyoseob loved the humiliation of someone like me enjoying his wife, and her doing things with me that she would rarely, if ever, do with her husband.

Like allowing my cock between her tits. Or how I made her orgasm like a slutty nympho just by fucking her in a position she wouldn’t normally allow. All of this, combined with the non-committal, almost primal pleasure, made the whole experience tantalizing. It certainly was a lifestyle Sooyoung could learn to enjoy, if she didn’t already.

“Wait up, Ma’am,” I called to her after school as she was heading to her car. She crossed her arms, unintentionally revealing her generous cleavage.

“What is it?” Sooyoung asked, ignoring her sudden nervous excitement. She hoped I wouldn’t put her in such an awkward position out in the open.

I went to the same school where she worked, so we were bound to run into each other. However, it did not make it any less awkward. Even though no one was particularly close, there were still a lot of people around. I leaned against her car, and she leaned back against the same vehicle to play it casual. Just some teacher talking to some pupil. Nothing suspicious about two young adults standing next to her vehicle talking to one another, right?

“What did you want to talk about, Minho?” she repeated.

“So about tomorrow... just what should I expect? You know, for the tutoring,” I said, attempting to stall the conversation. I looked over her with a mischievous glint. Sooyoung’s heart raced, unsure whether she should regret this situation or revel in it.

“If you’re here early, maybe we can just fu-”

“Not today,” Sooyoung said with an all too friendly smirk as she casually pushed herself off the car, trying to end the conversation. “And no more about doing stuff between classes.”

I scoffed and began rubbing my bulge. She frowned, and as my smirk lingered, her gaze was drawn downward.

“H-hey!” she stammered, taking a step away. “That’s hardly appropriate. Especially with students walking by,” she hissed. Sooyoung wanted nothing more than to reach over and grab my cock, squeeze that long, veiny piece of flesh she loved so much.

“Well, when else should I talk to you about it?” I chuckled, taking the same step she had, closing the gap between us.

“You could’ve just texted like you usually do... but fine, hop in and I’ll drive you home. We can talk about it on the way,” She relented, trying to shut me up before anyone noticed and hoping to keep the conversation focused on the actual tutoring. “Now knock it off,” she finished.

I smiled proudly as I entered the passenger side. Sooyoung rolled her eyes and suppressed a groan before getting into the car with me, pushing thoughts away and putting the vehicle in gear.

We talked about the tutoring and homework and stayed relatively cordial the rest of the ride, with only a few irrelevant comments from my part because I couldn’t help but admire her tits and ass.

“So, do you ever teach in class? Like theory or whatever?” I asked.

“Pff, just how much do you skip, Minho?” Sooyoung laughed. “Yeah, sometimes. Usually, around football season so any day now. I even have my own classroom.”

“You gonna tutor me on that stuff eventually?” I asked.

“If you think you have use for it,” She replied. “I have booked the classroom a few times this semester for your actual tutorage, in fact.”

“Oh I’d love to have you in a classroom,” I teased. She looked over, amused, and wondered what I would do with such an opportunity.

“Would you want a private lesson, Mister? Detention maybe?” Sooyoung teased back.

“Oh please, Mrs. Sooyoung, I didn’t mean to pass my paper, could you give me an oral exam? To see if I deserve extra credit?” I grinned.

Sooyoung laughed pulling up at her house. “Then I think you’re in luck,” she said, turning the car into her driveway and switching the engine off. “Jokes aside, we can’t fool around at the school... not more than we already did anyway,” she said, not able to conceal a smirk at the memory.

“You mean to tell me you and Hyoseob never done anything naughty at school?” I replied.

“None of your business, and don’t you try any funny ideas there either.” Sooyoung glared at me. I raised my hands defensively, “Alright, alright.”

As I walked her to her door, my eyes lingered down to her breasts and ass. Sooyoung opened the door and turned to me. “See you tomorrow, then?” she asked.

I smirked as my gaze traced her body. From her big cleavage strutting out in front of her, to her waist and down to her wide childbearing hips, my eyes feasted on her, while she tried her best to ignore the reaction her body had.

“Damn, Sooyoung,” I sighed. She blushed and smiled up at me. “Your ass was so hot, stretching and jiggling as you got out of the car. Wish I had recorded that instead.”

“Glad you were entertained,” Sooyoung retorted.

We stood there in the doorway for a few moments, staring at one another. Sooyoung was waiting for me to leave, and I was ogling her body and thinking God knows what. Sooyoung looked stunning, especially given that her work attire frequently consisted of tight-fitting workout clothes. Tight shirts, shorts, or yoga pants, with a sweater tied around her waist. A bit lewd, maybe, but she wore it flawlessly. Sporty and sexy all in one package.

“You leaving?” Sooyoung inquired, ignoring my leering.

“When is Hyoseob coming home?” I asked.

“In about two hours, why? We’re not-” Sooyoung tried to say something, but I interrupted her by pushing her inside and closing the door behind her. Sooyoung stumbled backward, her mind reeling from the forwardness.

“We are not doing this,” Sooyoung said, though with much less vigour as my hands gripped her fat ass, making her gulp hard. My tongue trailed from her earlobe up to her ear. “Minho, please,” Sooyoung pleaded.

My hands ran down from her wide hips, fingers pressing against the hem of her tights. Sooyoung shuddered in an oh-so-delicious anticipation as she realized how badly she’d longed for my touch these past days. Sooyoung realized she had subconsciously chosen to wear an outfit just for me. To tempt and agitate me. She wanted my warm embrace and confident assertiveness. She wanted my greedy lust to break her body and willpower, only to be soothed by my caring patience, stamina, and thickness.

“Bedroom?” I asked, eager to sink my cock in this lovely, formerly faithful wife.

“Yeah...” Sooyoung answered breathlessly, her pussy wet and her cheeks flushed red as she was powerless to resist me, so powerfully she wished I’d bend her over, rip off her tight-fitting garments and-

“Sooyoung? Are you back?” Hyoseob’s voice cut in through the silence, right at that moment.

“Hyoseob! Why’re you home so early? I thought you were staying at the office all day for your important deadline!” Sooyoung answered nervously, fidgeting with the front door for me to get out, looking as Hyoseob came out from the kitchen.

“Eh, they cancelled the deadline; was a miscommunication with the client, and a chance for me to… Sooyoung, what is going on?” He didn’t sound angry, but he had every right to be. Sooyoung was in the process of breaking the rules again, and probably several of them. She had no mind to record it, as it was full steam ahead.

“Well, what do we have here,” Hyoseob scolded playfully. He approached, inspecting her up-and-down as he circled Sooyoung and I, now somewhat frozen from the sudden shock.

“You’re a sight to see, baby,” he murmured and stood before us. “But not what I expected to come crashing through the door,” Hyoseob continued, “but I understand the appeal.”

He smiled as his wife’s mouth bobbed up and down with no words emerging. Her words were caught in her throat before she eventually found her voice.

“Don’t be upset babe, we were talking... then... I mean,” Sooyoung stuttered.

“Relax, I’m not angry,” Hyoseob assured. “Why should I be? Look, it is pretty hot to see you almost fall over, all stunned and panting at Minho.”

A nervous, giddy chuckle erupted from Sooyoung. She licked her lips and blinked slowly.

“Sorry to barge in like this,” I stated, my grip on Sooyoung’s waist still. “Just thought...”

“You’d fuck my wife?” Hyoseob replied.

“Listen, I’ll just leave,” I said.

“Leave?” Hyoseob asked in mock surprise, smiling coyly. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’ve started it. You can’t stop now.”

“Okay?” I breathed.

“Hey, this is my chance to watch it live. Consider it another hall pass,” Hyoseob said.

Sooyoung didn’t think they’d do any more hall passes, especially so soon after her last one, but she wasn’t going to argue, instead turning around and pressing her round butt against my bulge. I smirked, pressing back, reaching up to the rim of her short shirt, tracing the fabric, and skimming my fingers against the hem of her spandex tights, which I began rolling down her hips.

“Wait,” Sooyoung said. “Didn’t you say something about a bedroom?” she added, meeting Hyoseob’s stare. His eyes widened. ‘That’s right, I’m taking him to our marital bed,’ Sooyoung thought as she looked at her husband. If he was so accepting, let’s see how far he’d let her take it.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me upstairs. She was powerless to stop herself now that she had free reign and was absolutely in heat; she needed to be fuck senseless like the horny slut she’d become, right in her and her husband’s marital bed, with her husband watching no less. Sooyoung entered the bedroom and stood by the footboard, pulling me in behind.

“Lay on your back,” I told her. “I wanna see those huge tits jiggle as I stretch out your pussy,” I added.

Sooyoung didn’t respond, but obeyed nonetheless, feeling even hotter from hearing the lewd order. She laid down, ready and wanting. She heard the sound of their breathing, mixed with Hyoseob’s, who silently sat watching on a chair off to the side.

I began stripping off, her gaze fixed on my body. It seemed like an eternity since we’d had each other. She had to admit her disappointment at having her fun cut short. But hopefully, we’d have a lot more time and wouldn’t have to rush or wait for Hyoseob’s arrival.

I moved closer to her, climbing onto the bed until my cock was above her face. A shiver went through her. Sooyoung laid down, extending a hand to wrap around my hovering girth. I chuckled as her soft grip met mine, her fingertips barely touching on both sides. My foreskin was tight and firm over the bulging cockhead, with a wispy cum beading on the slit. She raised her head, extending her neck, and touched my tip with her tongue, her eyes closed and breathing heavily. The wet tongue licked the bead, and she salivated at the unpleasant taste. She was in disbelief about her own actions, doing something so dirty with someone other than her husband. The shame fueled her even more, but she couldn’t push herself any further than this. She lowered her head back on the pillow, allowing the thick piece to hang in front of her, dragging along her chin and grazing over her tits, drooling even more heavily as it made its way, coating the firm boobs and pebbled nipples.

Sooyoung looked up to see me looking down at her, a smirk flashing across my coarse features. Sooyoung understood what I was looking for, what I desired. Despite her embarrassment, Sooyoung was hungry for my dick after tasting the copious amounts of delicious delight I could provide her with. However, as I climbed down her body, I did not align my cock with her. No, I wanted to show Hyoseob how much better I was without even using my cock, so I sunk down the married couple’s marital bed and buried my head between her flawless thighs.

“Oh god,” Sooyoung mumbled in pent-up anticipation for the oncoming onslaught.

Hyoseob sat in a chair in the corner of his own bedroom, watching me sink my head between his wife’s spread legs, obscuring his view of her dripping entrance. It was a hard feat to understand how well Sooyoung responded to my touches. It wrecked him as much as it aroused him, and witnessing the events before him was the worst kind of train carnage he couldn’t pull his eyes from.

“Oh- Ohhh,” Hyoseob heard his wife moan, a deep, almost painful groan escaping from her chest. His dick stirred when he saw her lost in pleasure. Her knees were drawn in the air, and her heels were sliding down my wide back, pushing her pelvis forward and mashing her opening against my tongue. His sexy prideful wife was being ravaged by one of her students. Right in front of him.

Sooyoung began panting as her hands took hold of my head, entangling her fingers in my hair and ensuring my face remained rooted in place as I tongue fucked her sopping, hungry pussy. my hands gripped this wife’s athletic thighs as she ground against mine, the bed creaking and rocking in the process. Sooyoung reached back with one arm, holding onto the headboard, while her other kept my head pressed in tightly, her jaw jutted out and her eyes focused.

I worked her like a pro. With each twitch and whimper, labored groan, and gasping squeak, I reacted accordingly, guiding her into a boiling heat that was gradually building in her core, until my skilled tongue finally broke her open, sending her shuddering into an explosive orgasm that drenched my tongue in her juices.

I knew right away that Sooyoung and her husband had never done or come close to accomplishing anything like this before. Nothing in our long sexual history compared.

“Fuck! How...” Sooyoung groaned as her convulsions subsided. She drew her arm back and lay there exhausted, my lips smirking against her sticky thighs.

My cock hadn’t gotten the pleasure it craved, and the impatience was evident in the rigid shaft. I was tall and proud on my knees above her. Sooyoung turned her head, realizing that my cock had not only missed her, but also been neglected. My thick piece had bobbed and bounced, waving and whipping in the air, and landing all over their sheets. I chuckled as the disheveled teacher regained her composure.

“Fuck, Minho, how’d you get so good at that?” She sighed as her fingers and gaze moved down my body. “It’s crazy how fast you can get me off, it’s unfair.”

“Had plenty of practice,” I told her.

“Yeah? With who?”

“Minju, Hana, Sujin, Eunha, so on,” Minho bragged.

“Eunha? Our neighbor?” Sooyoung asked.

It wasn’t typical of her to be so nosy, but Hyoseob could tell, my already extensive experience interested her. Meanwhile, He sat, enraged and jealous. Not only did I get to fuck his wife, but I also had free access to every teen girl in the neighborhood.

“This dirty cock has been in a lot of dirty places, then,” Sooyoung purred while stroking my cock between her legs, enticed by my obscenities. Hyoseob was taken aback by how hot she was, not just because I was in front of her, but also because she was so responsive to it. This was a very different Sooyoung, one who clearly enjoyed the experience and knowledge one had to offer, he thought.

“Turn over,” I instructed, “Get on your hands and knees for me.”

“God, yes,” Sooyoung hissed.

And just like that she was on all fours, knees far apart, her tight entrance exposed, wet, and more than ready. That big sexy ass I could fondle and worship for hours strutted out for mine to feast. I noticed her shaking from anticipation, the pleasurable experience in her pussy still burning and spreading like wildfire, warming her entire body from the inside out.

“Yesss...” she groaned as my cock head settled down against her outer lips, coating the bottom in her leaking juices. It was a hell of a tease.

“Unnh! Minho, come on. Just... FUCK ME!” Sooyoung begged.

“What’s that? What is it that you want?” I teased.

“Please.” Sooyoung inhaled sharply. “I want you!”

“If I fuck you, and I’m not your husband, what does that make him?” I teased, nodding in Hyoseob’s direction.

“A cuck-UGH!” Sooyoung groaned out as I started to push my cock inside her unfaithful hole, taking control.

I fully leaned over her and crawled my hands around and under her, getting ahold of her full tits, cock lodged deep within her as I mounted her. “That’s what I thought,” I muttered, before starting my slow pace.

Hyoseob’s dick throbbed wildly. What could He say about such a display? It was unlike anything he could have imagined or experienced. His own wife was having the time of her life right in front of him, and with someone else, not to mention, her student. He’d never seen her so hot.

“Minho! You’re so BIG. Fuck me!” she moaned, in complete surrender and acceptance of a situation.

“Damn, you are tight... i can’t believe how fucking tight you are!” I pounded her harder. The bed creaked rhythmically in tune with my hips snapping against her big ass.

The bedroom echoed with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, and the wife’s moan rang in his ears. Hyoseob could hear our breathing become heavier as I brought her to climax again. Sooyoung’s breath caught in her throat for a moment before she cried out in delight as I fucked her straight through her orgasm without mercy.

“Like that, Hyoseob?” I taunted him over the moans and whimpers that his lovely wife couldn’t restrain. “Like watching me make your wife cum?!” I asked.

It wasn’t the first time Hyoseob saw Sooyoung do sex acts he’d always fantasized about, but seeing live in front of him was both magnificent and terrifying, given that he couldn’t ever be the one to do those things with her. Or perhaps the only difference between my cock and him was that I knew how to please her far better than her husband could.

“Like to see me breaking your wife? Defiling your wife in your-fucking-bed?” I groaned, thrusting firm and hard. “I’ll never grow tired of a pussy like this! Never! What a fucking MILF!”

Sooyoung was so into it, fully submerging in the wild ride I was giving her. I wasn’t holding back, giving her the kind of rough treatment that no one else could give. That only I could. That her husband certainly couldn’t. Her insides wrapped around mine like a fist as I pummeled her from behind.

I gave Sooyoung long, deliberate, penetrating, slow, torturous thrusts before pounding her hard and deep, letting my cock bury its enormous mass inside. Her huge breasts, undulating back and forth on the surface, would slide a little, causing her hard nipples to briefly rub the fabric.

“He’s fucking me so hard, Hyoseob,” Sooyoung whimpered. “This is all your fault!”

“Holy shit,” He muttered.

“I’d never fuck this shithead if you hadn’t pushed for this!” Sooyoung cried.

“Oh god,” Hyoseob groaned, feeling his impending orgasm rise and then subside as he forced himself to stop jerking.

“Unnh-NNH! MINHO!”

“Tell him how deep my cock is going inside this sweet married pussy. How it stretches you,” I teased.

“Minho, uggh- your cuh-cuh-cocks SO DEEP! Fuck me harder... faster. My pussy is a-and, I need you t-to fuuuck-AAAA.” Sooyoung was incoherent as she exploded. Her body collapsed underneath me as her arms and elbows gave out from my force.

I’m panting profusely and abruptly pulling out of Sooyoung. “Get in there,” I instructed, getting out of bed.

Sooyoung rolled onto her back, allowing Hyoseob to climb between her thighs and eagerly plunge himself between us. The contrast was noticeable. He struggled to fill her with his own member, just as I did. She wrapped her arms around him, keeping him close as we rutted together.

“Feels really nice,” Sooyoung assured him earnestly, panting into his ear, but his depraved brain refused to believe her, unable to shake the fact that she had just been fucked hard, pounded deep, and railed thoroughly by someone much bigger.

“Shit... you’re so much looser,” Hyoseob said bluntly. Sooyoung closed her eyes, enjoying his body and ignoring what he had just said. She let out a series of pants and groans, but was lacking. I had really stretched her. He just hoped it didn’t mean that his relationship with his wife had changed.

“Oh god, keep doing it!” Sooyoung gasped and groaned beneath her husband, writhing her body as the waves of pleasure crashed into her. She writhed and contorted in front of him, receiving his shallow thrusts with relative ease.

But her orgasm never came. She panted and bucked against him, but the friction just wasn’t there enough to bring her over the edge. Hyoseob didn’t think Sooyoung realized it, but He wasn’t enough anymore. Not anymore. Not after being taken so far, stretched out, and then slammed, with so much weight and girth. It made a huge difference. She clenched hard around him but didn’t get it where she wanted. She needed something more than him.

The realization burned through him and almost made him cum right away, but instead, Hyoseob felt a tap on his shoulder.

“I’m going back in,” I smirked. “I’ll take care of it.”

I pushed him away and crawled back between Sooyoung’s thighs, forcing him to sit back and jerk off while he watched his wife being fucked by another guy. I don’t think Sooyoung noticed his withdrawal, especially since I reinserted my cock inside her. Sooyoung threw her head back and let out a howl. I picked up right away, maintaining the exact same pace of deep, hard strokes inside of her.

Hyoseob felt hurt being forced to climb back to the chair in the corner, hearing how much Sooyoung enjoys someone else more than him, but at the same time, he felt an intense arousal of humiliation to witness this sight. The way I’m dominantly forcing myself inside her lovely wife, pinning her in place and rekindling her pleasure. She cried for more.

“Take my cock! Take it like a slut!” I kept going.

“Uhnnnh... feels soooo gooood,” Sooyoung panted, clawing and pulling.

I paused just long enough to grab Sooyoung’s wrists and pin them above her head, taking on a male dominant position of ownership. As a bull over his cow, or in this case, a stud mounting his breeding mare. Hyoseob thought back to their lives together, him and Sooyoung. Everything they had experienced together, it all leading to her get fucked by another man.

She arched her back and pressed her breasts against my chest, squirming under me as the heat built up again, more and more, until, with the clench and tingle of pleasure in the stomach and thighs, Sooyoung lost herself in an orgasm, feeling an enormous pressure rising, climbing up from the depths of her pussy, pushing upwards, stretching. Sooyoung squirmed beneath my dominance, gasping, unable to grasp reality as every cell in her body became electrified in response to my hard pummeling.

I then slowed down, letting Sooyoung come down, sinking my lips against hers, and we began to kiss intimately.

“Minho...” She whispered in a raspy voice, gazing into mine.

Sooyoung could hardly speak. She tried, but the words fell short and were barely audible, a quiet and excited stuttering, but as the fog lifted and reality returned, and she started to remember the moment, her tone shifted. Her voice grew stronger, more aware of her situation. “Fuck...” she continued in a less reverent whisper. “Jesus Christ, what is going on...”

“Well... we’re cucking your husband,” I said bluntly.

“Are you mad? Am I in trouble?”

Sooyoung let out a giggle and let me drop my head to her neck, causing her giggle to turn into a moan as I began licking her soft skin while humping her womb.

“Are you going to talk?” I breathed, my full cock sinking slowly into her. “Come on. “Let him hear.”

“Oh my g-uuuh.” Sooyoung trailed off, the words cut off, distracted by massive tool filling her up, touching her walls.

“Now tell me again. Tell him, the reason you have allowed me to defile you,” I teased, not relenting my pace, while whispering in her ear.

“Ohhh,” Sooyoung moaned, shivering, clutching my muscles. Sooyoung whimpered, gritting her teeth to her effort. But not responding was beyond impossible. She had never felt so full.

“Your husbands’ too tiny, isn’t he?” I egged her on.

“My husband is great, I swear, but you’re so big and he’s not,” Sooyoung got out, my fat cock-head poking into her, brushing into a particularly sensitive spot in the inner wall.

“That’s right,” I said with satisfied smirk.

“Ohh!” Sooyoung groaned.

“That’s why you needed to cuck your husband.”

“God Minho...” Sooyoung moaned.

“Just answer.”

“Yes,” Sooyoung blurted out. “My husband is great, I promise- oh my! But he couldn’t fulfill all my needs, my cravings.” Sooyoung paused and closed her eyes. I slowed down because I didn’t want her orgasm to take her away just yet. “That’s why, fuck, I needed you here. So you could give me what I really needed.”

Sooyoung returned my gaze, a loving, heated expression on her face. I kissed her, pressing our lips and tongues together. And we resumed our fucking, moaning together and filling the bedroom with the sounds of flesh slapping, groans, and grunts.

Hyoseob raised his hand to stroke himself, rubbing his dick furiously. His body and mind were filled with emotions and stress. Sooyoung hadn’t been lying about his size, and watching how I held nothing back as my thick meat began stretching his wife again, plunging into her over and over... He had no idea how we were doing it; with our perfect fit, it must have felt like heaven. His eyes burned with a desire to break down. He is unsure whether he is feeling shame, happiness, anger, or passion. He closed his eyes for a second to concentrate on his wife’s agonizing moans and the obscene slick sounds of her being pounded so deliciously and thoroughly.

“Hyoseob, watch me make your wife cum again,” I said.

He could only nod and bite down his own moans, proving my statement correct. The display in front of him became more and more lewd and heated as she moved her mouth to my ears and allowed me to feel her warm breath, while our hips went insane, slamming into her like a high-powered machine.

“You want it,” I told her.

“Ah! Ah! Uuungh,” Sooyoung got out, a half groan, half whisper.

“Oh yes you do. Cum on my cock!” I commanded.

“Minho...” Sooyoung moaned in her raspy voice.

“Don’t bother to fight it, Ma’am.”

“Minho I’m so close, I’m going crazy here, just take my womb.”

I pummeled down deep, thrusting firmly and keeping my base flush. Sooyoung’s hips rose from the sheets and began bucking upward, meeting my heavy thrusts. Our speed increased together. “Minho!” she kept saying my name like a mantra. Sooyoung grunted as I pushed deeper inside of her. She had to scream as I kept my promise.

“Okay,” Sooyoung hissed after an eternity.

I smiled and slid off of her. Sooyoung leaned back into the mattress and spread her legs, arching her hips, watching as my cock come out covered in our collective fluids, thick, sticky, and white. It was hard to comprehend that all that had been inside her, and even more was still spilling out. It was so thick and creamy.

“I haven’t cum this hard since forever,” Sooyoung moaned.

“You did amazing. I can’t wait for a lot more,” I told Sooyoung.

“Yee-ees, me too, baby.” Sooyoung wrapped her arms and legs around me and kissed me eagerly as her eyes flashed towards her husband, a little unsure, maybe even scared, her glance uncertain, her pupils wide, and then she just looked straight at him.

“You okay, Hyoseob?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yeah, yeah... just hard to get over how much of that got in you,” Hyoseob said, laughing. While his expression was undoubtedly one of shock, he was actually doing more than fine. Watching his wife pleasured by another man is an image that will stay with him forever, and the experience left him oddly satisfied. It almost made him happy that she had gotten to experience something like this.

“Well, anyway,” I said, standing up. “I am drained. And we’re not in a real session, so I’m heading out.”

“Sure thing,” Sooyoung said. “And the session tomorrow? Let’s... Let’s put that one on hold for now, okay? We need a bit... a bit of control, I think.”

I nodded and began to dress up. It was reassuring when Sooyoung, the smart person she was, took the steering wheel. When the dust settled, she still considered her husband’s turmoil. Hyoseob was probably complacent enough for us to do more, but Sooyoung was probably right in pulling on the emergency brakes.

“So,” Sooyoung turned to Hyoseob after I left. “Wow, huh.”

He simply nodded, trying to process the event that had transpired. Sooyoung got up and moved in beside him.

“What just happened?” He asked, dumfounded.

“Well, we cucked you,” Sooyoung said, studying his expression as she waited for his reaction to her words. “Was it too much?”

“I... think so. I’m glad you got to experience it... but watching it in front of me was a bit much, perhaps.” He explained to her. “Like, yeah, you’re hot as hell. This entire event is extremely hot, and seeing another man fuck you so well is quite thrilling. But hearing you moan and say all of that... it was almost too much for me. I’m not sure if I can handle seeing it live... especially since he asked me to join in...”

Sooyoung nodded understanding. “So you think we should move on from this whole thing?”

“No! No, I love it. It makes it harder for me to return to the same things later,” he laughed. Sooyoung also giggled. “No, I’m all on for it still, but I think we need a cooling period,” he replied. “At the very least, I participated in real life... However, the videos are quite good.

“Sure thing,” Sooyoung said, with a warm, understanding smile. “And I won’t do anything until you’re ready for it to continue. If ever. I only enjoy this if you enjoy it.”

“You’d do that?” He asked. “Despite everything?”

“Of course... I know I failed before, but I would try with all my might. I don’t want to risk everything for something like that, and honestly, I don’t think Minho would either.”

They linger like that for a bit.

“Sooyoung, can I ask you something?” Hyoseob started. Sooyoung nodded. “Why is it so different? I mean, aside from the obvious physical things. You’re so much wilder with Minho.”

“Aside from how his bigger size just hits differently?” Sooyoung asked, shooting him a smirk, which He returned. “Well... I don’t know. Honestly, maybe it was always there, I just never brought it out. The raw physical aspect. And with Minho it is just that, so much more raw and physical action. I don’t love him, nowhere close, and I don’t think for a second he loves me. And for women sex and emotions are entwined and psychological. With Minho, there is no relationship like that, so it’s purely physical. It’s like I can let go more, if that makes sense. Have good sex with no repercussions, if that also makes sense.”

Hyoseob paused for a few seconds. “I guess that makes sense, yeah. When did you get so smart?” He joked.

“Shut up,” Sooyoung said, slapping his chest. “So everything okay? Anything more you wanna ask, because I want to answer everything you want to know as far as I can.”

“No, I think I’m good. Let’s put a breather on this whole thing then take it from there.”

“Okay, got it,” Sooyoung said with a smile, wrapping a hand around his husband, and cuddling into him as she laid her head on his chest. He placed an arm on her shoulder and held her close, her soft boobs pressing against him. The cuddle made them fall asleep, together, exhausted from the day’s adventure.

#joy smut #park sooyoung smut #red velvet smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #male reader

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