#and put him in a hot girl outfit
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dandylion-s · 4 months ago
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Truly astronomical levels of cunt. They'll have to invent a new emmy category just for cuntery for her.
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geddy-leesbian · 12 days ago
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Mildly high in the bathtub and feeling rambly.. I know from my blog/ao3 it seems like I'm one of the people that's deeply invested in RE men and ignores the girls, but I do love Claire so fucking much, probably not as much as I love Luis but more than I love Leon to be completely honest. It's just that I don't like her in the situations I like to write about. Hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, that's been my jam as long as I've been in fandom spaces. And I just don't enjoy the thought of Claire in situations like that. I love inserting Luis into as many fucked up scenarios as possible. I play other RE games he's not in and think "what if Luis was here and got traumatized more haha" but I don't do that in games without Claire because I prefer to think she's fine and thriving and not getting into fucked up scenarios. I play Darkside chronicles and Revelations 2 and love Claire so much but when i get to the end of the game the book closes for me, like "damn poor Claire went through a lot of shit, she deserves a good break" I'm not brainstorming ways to further torment her like I do with Leon and luis, i want her happy. But I also don't like writing happy fluff, again I've been mega into angst as long as I've been writing, and I've never enjoyed domestic fluff really. I only do fluff as the payoff for a bunch of angst. I have vague fluffy thoughts for hwo Claire's nice life could be unfolding, but they aren't thoughts i feel i need to flesh out and write down. And if i tried to write them, I'd be bored to death by the lack of angst and drama
And I know I've written Serrennedy fluff where they're okay and thriving so I should be able to do the same with Claire but it's very specific fluff with those two. It's them being parents because of all my daddy issues and trauma, I don't write fluff of them unless kids are involved. And I also don't see Claire as a parent. Like maybe to Sherry but that's special. (And i mean I usually imagine Leon as the one being Sherry's parent anyway) I've been struggling with the next chapter of wakin' up blind with the house on fire for a very long time and finally realized recently it's because something about it didn't feel quite right, a conversation where Claire tells Leon she's been thinking about having a kid too. Like it's sweet and appeals to my "almost every relative I have is either dead or shitty" trauma because it's claire saying she still sees leon as a brother and their kids will be like cousins, but it just doesnt feel right, I think she's makes more sense as the cool childfree aunt
Idk how to conclude this. Just. I enjoy women escaping traumatizing situations forever and being happy and like to actively put traumatized men through more trauma ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (i focused on claire bc she's my number 1 blorbo but i am fond of most of the other girls too and just don't do things focusing heavily on them for similar reasons. Especially rebecca after umbrella chronicles i was like actually i hope to god she isnt in another mainline game any time soon bc i do not want to see her suffer more girl's been through enoigh 😭 and while claire has also been thru enough and deserves a rest i want to see her in a mainline game again because I think it's really hot when she lifts heavy things and shoves heavy things and beats people up sorry)
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mantisgodsdomain · 8 months ago
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Hot bug spring (we cannot leave our bed for Agonies Reasons so we're lying down with iSaT and hot chocolate to do Absolutely Fucking Nothing for the forseeable future)
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livvyofthelake · 1 year ago
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ohhhhhh my god my lead actress's big brown eyes...... girl you're killing me......
#and my male lead is quite literally blonde with blue eyes it's ridiculous#he's ok tho. actually i did find out today he played clarient in marching band in hs#so that's a red flag but hey i just need him to act and he's been pretty great at it. red flags are allowed <3#he also got us our other guy we needed for some small scenes. so he's been invaluable despite the serial killer eyes#in truth he actually looks lke a panda to me. there's nothing wrong with his serial killer blue eyes i'm being mean#sorry for being anti men who play clarient. in my defense i've known those guys and i have never met one that didn't annoy me a little#anyway. she has beautiful big brown eyes and he is there. and our other guy is beautifully tragic and doomed <3#that was my criteria for casting him. i said 'he needs to look beautiful and tragic' and then we found him#he did great today. i don't know if he likes me but he showed up and he wore all the outfits i told him to wear so#actually i think i act weird around good looking men. i think it's because once a hot guy is around i get one notch lower on the hierarchy#and i'm usually up there. frankly. so i don't like being lowered...#i mean you guys will see what he looks like eventually i'm gonna post the link to the film when it's done and i'm graduated#but he's Hot. i was scared of him for a moment. he was wearing sunglasses. and then i made him walk up a bigass hill#and then i made him be in vaguely homoerotic pictures. his words. he didn't seem to mind there were jokes had. jests even#and tomorrow at 11am im gonna make him stand on a bed and put stars on a wall while yelling at him to smile and look pretty#and well. that's awesome. heirarchy is restored once we all remember that i'm the guy in charge......#anyway. i had an eventful day. 8am to now. i gotta go to sleep girls.#unfortunately that's not happening soon due to i've committed myself to reviewing today's footage. ok
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selfcarecap · 3 months ago
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Practice [L.H]
pairing: Logan Howlett x reader
summary: Your roommate Logan lets you practise giving a blowjob on him for your date with another guy.
warnings: smut, 18+, oral sex (f&m receiving, reader’s first time), Logan is a liittle mean but just a little and he gets softer towards the end, spitting,  jerking off, Logan keeps his socks on I think it’s hot okay 😭😭, Logan calls reader bub, baby, good girl, pretty girl; Wade is mentioned but I’m imagining a younger Logan than in DP&W
word count: 3.2k (this was supposed to be a drabble lol idk what happened)
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“Who’s the lucky guy?” Logan asks from the sofa as you walk past him in your pretty date outfit. You’ve got some time left before your date but you decided to get ready early in a bout of nervousness.
“This guy I’ve been seeing,” you tell him, trying to seem nonchalant. You haven’t yet mentioned to Logan that you’ve been on a few dates. He spends a lot of time in his room, away from you and Wade, and he just never happened to be there to hear about your dates.
Logan mutes the tv. “What guy?”
“Met him online.”
“And he’s so good to you that you get this pretty for him?”
You smile at his indirect compliment and sit down next to him.
“Yeah, he’s nice. I… I think we might go a step further today,” you feel your cheeks heating up, “I’m kind of nervous.”
You see his jaw clench slightly, “If he’s a good guy he shouldn’t make you nervous.”
“I’m not nervous because of him, it’s just that it would be my first time. And I don’t want to be bad.”
He chuckles and leans back, “You won’t be bad. Just make him go on top.”
Logan isn’t taking your hint, so you take a deep breath to gather your courage. “What if he wants me to go down on him and I don’t know how to do it? Will you…” your voice falters as his eyes meet yours.
“Will you help me?” you stutter and Logan immediately begins to smirk. Embarrassment spreads through your body.
“Help you how?” He asks, smug.
It’s too late to go back now. “Well, I don’t know. Like, explain how it works or.. you could show me?” you shrug.
“You probably know better than me how to find porn online.”
“No, I mean show me on you.” That’s all the courage you can muster for the day and you wonder if you will even have the strength to look back into Logan’s eyes. He solves that problem for you, putting a finger under your chin and pushing it up so you’re looking at him.
“You wanna suck my cock?” He sounds annoyed and you immediately want to die.
“It wouldn’t have to mean anything,” you look at his cheeks, his nose, anywhere but his eyes, “I just wanna know if I’m doing it right. It’s okay if you can’t cum, I just want to practise.”
Logan scans your face for a sign of discomfort – other than your embarrassment – but he doesn’t find any. His features soften, “You really wanna go down on me, bub?”
You nod quickly, “For practice.”
“Mhm, for practice.” He’s mocking you, but all you can do is ignore it.
A thrill shoots through your body at his next words: “C’mere then.” He spreads his legs, clothed in jeans that strain around the thickness of his delicious thighs. You can see the outline of his abs through his tank top. You can’t believe this is happening – you’ve had a crush on him since you saw him for the first time.
Logan beckons you between his legs and you move to sit on the carpet, its fluffiness stopping your bare knees from hurting. Your short skirt rides up your ass and you pull it down self-consciously despite what you’re about to do.
“You sure about this, bub?” Logan asks again from above you. You gulp when you look up at him. How does he look even better from below?
“Yeah,” you assure him, your panties already growing wet. You sit down and try to patiently wait for instruction but you end up squirming. When you look back up at Logan he’s got one of his eyebrows raised.
“You don’t know how to open a belt either?”
“Well, yeah but don’t we have to–” your mouth starts to water when the rough clink of his belt interrupts you. He’s all but ripping open his belt; he unbuttons his jeans and takes out his hard cock. You almost get goosebumps.
“Oh,” you say.
“If a guy likes you, he doesn’t need any time to get ready. Foreplay is just to get the woman nice and wet,” Logan tells you, although you’re barely listening. All you know is that you wouldn’t need the foreplay either, you’re uncomfortably wet, trying to get friction against your legs that are folded underneath you.
Logan watches you stare at his erection, “Take your top off. I like seeing your pretty face but that’ll make it an even nicer view.”
“But I’m not wearing anything underneath,” you thumb at the thin straps of your top.
He smirks, “even better.” He reaches down to pull the top up by your waist but then hesitates.
You nod but Logan rolls his eyes. “Use your words.”
“You can take it off,” you say but you nevertheless put your arms in front of your tits when he pulls your top over your head. 
Logan chuckles, “Baby, I’ve been dying to see your tits since I first met you. You really think you gotta hide?” The nickname makes you melt and your arms immediately drop to your sides. 
You sit up straighter as Logan lets out a low moan, “God, look at you. So fucking perfect.” He reaches out to grope your tits almost clumsily. His cock bobs in front of you as he leans down to touch you and you feel yourself getting addicted to him already. You just want to start.
With a last rough squeeze of your tit, Logan leans back. “Wet your lips,” he instructs. You lick your lips.
“Wetter,” he says, and your eyebrows crease in confusion as you lick your lips again.
Logan huffs, spits into his hand, and smears his spit over your mouth, “There. Don’t you look fucking pretty like this.” You just about purr against his hand and then push against it with your cheek.
You place your hands on either of his knees and lean in to kiss the tip of his cock, all swollen and ready. You immediately feel the urge to go further but your shyness takes over, so you keep pressing wet kisses to his length.
“God,” Logan groans, leaning his head back in pleasure as you keep kissing, and you start to use some more spit.
“Look at you, don’t even need me to tell you what to do,” he pulls his arms behind his head smugly, like an asshole, and you smile, getting shy again. You kiss along the underside of his cock some more, getting more desperate with every second.
“What now?” You ask. 
Logan softly smiles at you for a second, pulling his jeans and boxers further down his thighs. You pull them off completely as he pulls off his top. He’s naked in front of you now, except for his socks, and you take a second to appreciate all the broadness and his muscles. The hair from his chest all the way over his abs and down to his cock is begging for you to kiss every inch of it but you force yourself to focus.
Logan takes his cock in his hand to lift it out of the way, and slowly starts to jerk off. His eyes go to you and then to his balls, and you get what he wants you to do. Still, he gives you one word: “Lick.”
You move forward, inhaling all his manly smell, instinctively going to press another wet kiss to his cock. You let spit pool in your mouth and begin to lick all over his balls, feeling the heaviness of them on your tongue.
“Take as much as you can, baby,” he rasps, continuing to jerk off. You almost slap his hand away – you want to be the one making him feel good – but you stop yourself.
You do as he tells you, opening your mouth to cover as much of him as you can, the warmth of his balls against your tongue making you drool.
“Yeah, baby, juuust like that. That’s a good girl,” he breathes heavily.
Your pussy clenches around nothing at his words, and you have to take a deep breath to focus on anything but the wet ache between your thighs.
His balls move against your tongue from his jerking off, and you gently suck on the skin, moving around a few inches every few seconds. But the movement from his hand on his cock is becoming distracting and, without thinking, you instinctively push his hand away. 
He stills and then smiles, lifting his hand away. He lightly leans his elbows on the back of the sofa to the sides of him. 
“You can start sucking my cock now if you’re ready, baby. Been doing such a good job.”
“I don’t know if I can take all of it,” you pout. Even just imagining his dick down your throat feels too much, though not in a bad way. He’s just so fucking big. 
“Just take as much as you can. I bet you can take more of me than you think.”
His words motivate you. You go up slightly on your knees, carefully wrapping your hand around his cock. You spit on it, letting it slowly slide down the sides as you begin to spread it with your hand. 
Logan huffs out a laugh from above you, “So adorable. You don’t need to be so careful. Here, do it like this.” He wraps his much bigger hand around yours and he starts to jerk off with your hand, showing you how rough you can be as he starts to fuck your fist. 
You clear your throat, “Can I use my mouth now?”
He bites his lip, “Ready when you are, baby. Just breathe through your nose and relax.” Oh, you’re relaxed. Being between Logan’s meaty thighs is the best you’ve felt in your life. 
You press another kiss to the tip of his cock and part your lips to take him in your mouth. The first second you feel the heaviness of his cock on your tongue is like heaven. Logan lets out a low moan and you look up to find his eyes already on your face. He looks like a god from below, his muscles starting to glisten with a thin layer of sweat.
Opening your mouth wider, you take more of him. You start to jerk him off where your mouth can’t reach but you do your best to go as deep as you can, moving up and down with your wet mouth.
The feeling of Logan’s cock in your mouth is addicting, and the quiet sounds he is making even more so. 
“Doin’ so good for me, baby,” he whispers, voice weak. You look up into his eyes as you suck his dick, spit starting to run down your hand, and a smirk spreads on Logan’s face.
“Such a pretty girl,” he leans his head back.
Your jaw is starting to strain because he’s so big but you never want to stop doing this. You swallow down the taste of his precum and can’t wait to actually make him come. He’s starting to pulse in your mouth, abs contracting with every time your tongue moves.
You’re wondering how much long–
“Y’gonna make me come, baby. Gonna come so hard,” Logan moans, and you figure he’s warning you but you want nothing more than his cum in your mouth.
You put in all the effort you can, sucking Logan’s cock further down your throat, cheeks hollowing. You start to feel him at the back of your throat, spit spilling from your lips.
Logan groans, and then he’s filling up your mouth, pumping his cum down your throat as you eagerly swallow. You look up at him through your lashes, taking in his face, his eyes shut and mouth hanging open in pleasure as a long, almost pathetic, groan comes out.
He’s coming longer than you’d expect, coming in your mouth in sticky ropes, a hand guiding the back of your head. You still pout when he’s finally drained and he slowly pulls his hips back.
Logan sighs a last breath of pleasure and holds his hand in front of your mouth. “What?” you ask.
“Spit.”
“Uh, I swallowed,” you say.
“Really?”
You stick out your tongue for Logan to see your empty mouth.
He smirks. “God,” he huffs, “so fucking perfect. C’mere.” He pulls you up to the sofa and sits you on his lap, your bare chest against his. Logan pushes his mouth against yours, kissing you like he’s filled with a new desire, as if you didn’t just make him come.
You don’t get to kiss him for very long though, because he pulls you to lie down on the sofa, turning so your legs are spread around him.
“‘m gonna show you what it’s supposed to feel like for someone to eat your pussy. Just so you know your date is doin’ it right, ‘kay?”
What date? You almost ask. You remember for a second but then, looking at him, all of your thoughts are replaced with Logan again. “Yes,” you nod hornily, “Please.”
“There you go, got you even saying please now. You want it that bad, huh?”
All you can do is nod as he pulls down your skirt and panties. He almost goes cross-eyed when he sees your pussy for the first time.
“God, baby, you coulda said something. Such an eager little thing. You got that wet from having my cock in your mouth, hm? Gonna make you come so good, yeah?”
You nod again and he bends down to press another sloppy kiss to your lips, kissing down your neck and stopping at your chest, “Can’t get enough of these,” he plays with your tits, desperately grabbing at them like a man seeing a woman naked for the first time.
He smiles up at you when he realises how much time he’s spent at your chest, pressing a last kiss to your sternum before placing one of his big hands on your tit and kissing further down. You assume he’s going to stop before he gets to your pussy, just to tease you, but he kisses all the way down from your belly button to your clit, starting to make out with your pussy.
“Logan,” you moan, your hand flying to his hand on one of your boobs.
“Feel good?” He asks, and you almost faint when you look at his head pushed between your thighs. He looks exactly right, as if this is where he was meant to be the entire time.
“Mhmm.”
He chuckles against your pussy, tongue darting out to play with your clit. The ache between your legs starts to get worse with him there, and you feel your pussy clenching around nothing.
Logan smirks and pushes your thighs further apart with a rough hand. He starts to gently rub your clit, and you’ve finally got the friction you’ve been needing this entire time. You’re already close. 
You let out an involuntary moan as he pushes his thick middle finger inside you, and you grip his hand on your tit harder, and he squeezes you there, lovingly. 
“I got you, baby,” he says into your pussy before starting to fuck you with his finger, pushing another one in as he begins to rub a sweet little spot inside that you can never reach yourself. 
He leans in to start licking your clit again, circling it with his tongue and, ever so slightly, beginning to suck. 
You’re so close, the waves of pleasure almost, just almost, flooding over you. You squirm, your knees pushing together, held open by his broad shoulders. 
Logan sucks harder, fingers fucking into you with your clit pulsing against his tongue. 
It only takes a few more seconds of Logan’s mouth on your pussy for you to come. Pleasure explodes within you and floods your entire body as you arch your back, pushing further into him and his wet mouth and thick fingers.
Logan doesn’t stop until you’re satisfied and your legs go numb around him.
He grins at you, biting his lip to stop his smile from spreading too far, and he presses a kiss to the middle of your belly, squeezing your tit gently before letting go. You feel cold without him there.
With your legs still around him, you instinctively pull him in and he lies down next to you on the sofa, gently caging you against the back of it to give you the more comfortable side as he balances on the edge.
“You wanna know how good you taste?” Logan asks, not waiting for an answer before he kisses you. You slide your hand behind his neck to pull him in, tasting yourself on his tongue.
He stops kissing you. “So.. you still going on your date?”
You feel your cheeks getting hot, “What if I told youuu…” you twirl a strand of Logan’s hair that’s hanging over his forehead, “that there never was a date. Or a guy.”
Logan breaks out in a smile, “You were too shy to ask me to fuck you so you made up an entire person?”
You hear the key turning in the lock in that moment, and even though you’ll be covered by the back of the sofa Logan shields you with his hands as best as he can, reaching for your clothes.
Wade comes in and you immediately sit up, holding Logan’s hand and forearm to your tits to cover them.
“Guess what happened?” you squeal at Wade.
Wade’s eyes go over to you and then to Logan, and he drops his bags of grocery shopping to jump up and down, “Was it my plan? I told you my plan would work!”
You grin, “It was your plan.”
Logan looks between you and Wade, rolling his eyes but he’s unable to hide a smile.
“It was a good plan, right? I told her she could just ask you out but she was too shy so I told her to make up a guy she’s dating,” Wade explains.
“Alright,” Logan laughs quietly, “Now fuck off so I can fuck my girl again.”
Wade’s eyes go wide and he says what you’re thinking, “My girl? I’d faint if he called me that. You owe me,” he points at you.
You blow a kiss at Wade and he pretends to catch it, pressing it to his lap. You roll your eyes and smile, waving at him, “You heard him, we’ve got stuff to do.”
The almost animalistic smirk Logan gives you when Wade is gone should scare you, but it only makes you want him more. He picks you up in his arms, carrying you to his room. You can’t wait for what’s to come.
-
P.S. Logan thinks good girls reblog and comment on the fics they enjoy 🩷🫣
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gremlingottoosilly · 1 year ago
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I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)
Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3
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“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 
You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 
You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 
So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 
— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 
He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 
— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 
— Ah…your father is at home? 
You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 
— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 
— You didn’t tell him about me? 
Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 
— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…
An apathetic dad, huh. 
You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 
— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 
He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 
You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 
*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 
König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 
With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 
Scheisse
Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…
The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 
You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 
— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 
You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 
You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 
— Ja. You can have it. 
He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 
— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 
You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 
Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 
— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 
You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 
He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 
— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 
— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 
You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 
— What do you mean by this, sir? 
You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 
Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 
He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 
The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 
König is. 
— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 
You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 
Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 
König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 
Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 
— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 
“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 
You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 
König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 
God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 
He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 
You look like a good candidate. 
— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 
He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 
— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 
You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 
— You want to see the bedroom then?
Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 
— Sir, this is very…
He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 
— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.
You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 
Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 
— I don’t want to break his heart. 
— He doesn’t have one. 
You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…
God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 
Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 
You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 
— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 
“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 
You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 
König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 
— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 
He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 
He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 
He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 
— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 
— N…not a whore, please…
He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 
— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…
— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…
— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.
He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 
It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 
It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…
You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 
Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 
König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 
So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 
— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 
— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 
— I’ll tell him. 
— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 
— I need to return to my dorm. 
— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 
He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 
He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 
Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 
— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 
— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 
You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 
14K notes · View notes
paarksunghoon · 2 months ago
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Sunghoon trying to stay sane and respectful but your love for mini skirts and barely there tops are testing his patience day by day. He's not a horn dog but God when you press against him, so soft, so pretty and oh so naive..do you not notice your entire cleavage hanging out for his eyes to drink in, or the skirt riding up your luscious thighs as you rant about your day?
as someone who wears mini skirts all the time…nbgngngn. i’m also pretty high but reading this really put a number on me so sorry for typos lol
***
Sunghoon is a skirt chaser.
He’s always loved seeing girls wearing them since it made their legs look longer. It didn’t matter much to him—short girls or tall girls—he loved seeing ass peeking out from under the skirt and how they’d always tug at the hem to pull it down. Sunghoon doesn’t date much either (although that definitely wasn’t because nobody wanted him like that either; he wasn’t looking for that type of commitment).
He loved the kind of skirts that paired well for going out. Sure, the solid color staples pieces were cute. But the way silk touches the skin and how hips sway in these fabrics was enough to make his mouth salivate.
When you started wearing them, Sunghoon became perplexed.
You, his best friend since twelve, seemed to have ditched jeans and long dresses for short skirts and baby tees. In the past few months, he’s seen you switch up your wardrobe to the point where he was sure you had more than enough mini skirts to last you a lifetime. They came in all colors and styles, one for every color underneath the rainbow and then some. His friends all noticed this too, eyes following your ass every time you walked in front of them. That made him mad.
The thing is, you have an amazing ass and your tits always sit so pretty. He tries not to stare and gawk at you every time you wear these kinds of clothes. You keep it fairly tame when you’re in broad daylight and push the boundaries on a night out. You don’t seem to care that his friends stare at you every time you try to cover yourself up from a gust of wind or when you bend down. Sunghoon has probably seen your panties too many times.
He really doesn’t understand why all of these feelings are bubbling up. He’s seen you in bikinis and didn’t react like this. Sunghoon is confused but that doesn’t stop his dick from getting hard every time he pictures your outfits when he’s in the safety of his bedroom.
His favorite way to get off is by pushing his back against the bed frame and spreading his legs, holding his fist in a circle and he pumps himself up and down. Sunghoon pictures you riding him in one of your infamous mini skirts, looking up at the ceiling and imagining what you’d look like on top of him. He thinks about how he’d look down and the dirty affair would be covered by the fabric, as if thinking about fucking your best friend wasn’t weird.
Sunghoon is pulled back to reality when you squeeze his bicep in lieu of a greeting.
“Do you have our tickets?”
He nearly jumps out of his skin. “Jesus, Y/N. You need to warn a guy before you creep up on them.”
“All I did was touch your arm!” His cheeks feel hot as you laugh. “Were you in deep thought, or something?”
His eyes flicker to the shortest skirt he’s ever seen you wear but scoffs, playing it off. “Nah. You’re as quiet as a mouse.”
“Well this mouse wants to go inside.”
You don’t wait for him to answer you. Sunghoon feels you tug him by the hand towards the security line in front of the concert venue. You’ve been a bit more physical with him lately, tugging on his arm and sifting your fingers through his hair whenever he’d lay his head on top of yours. He only ever means to for a brief second in the way friends do, but he hesitates to pull away once you tug at his roots.
The artist is a band you two discovered a few years back and he was in charge of buying the concert tickets for the both of you. Sunghoon sees the fruit of his labor pay off when you’re both standing inside after you both pass through security. The venue is crowded and small, but you’re sure everybody is too high out of their minds to notice people bumping into them anyway.
As the two of you walk closer towards the middle, it starts to get tighter. Sunghoon moves you in front of him and puts his hands on your waist to guide you and doesn’t mind that your arms are resting on top of his.
You don’t move away from him once you’ve joined others either. He noticed that you’re a bit shorter than everyone else around you. “Do you want to get on my shoulders during your favorite songs?”
“No, that’s okay. I want to dance.”
He looks down at your skirt. “Mhm, let me know if you change your mind.
The two of you wait until the show begins and you’re talking to him about how excited you are for tonight but all he can think about is how he could cop a feel if he really wanted to. The skirt you’re wearing provides him easy access to touch you but he refuses to act on his urges, often flexing his fingers to calm himself down.
Halfway through the show and everyone is having a great time. You’ve danced for an hour straight and feel your legs wobbling after jumping and screaming the lyrics to Sunghoon. He’s a bit taken aback when you rest your back against his chest but tries not to think too much into it.
But you stay like that for a while and he can feel the fabric of your skirt. He toys with it absentmindedly as he nods his head to the melody until he feels your legs tensing against him. When he looks down, your thighs are squished together.
Fuck. He wonders if you’re horny.
Sunghoon hooks his chin over your shoulder and peeks down below to where his hands graze the hem of your mini skirts. When you don’t motion for him to move away, he grunts when his hands start to disappear and moans directly in your ear when his fingers touch your panties. It’s only then does he realize how wet you are.
His other arm is secured over your waist and you grip onto him at the sudden contact across your blooming core. He swipes his index and middle fingers back and forth to gauge just how wet you’ve become, smearing it all over your panties. It brings a gasp out of you and he pushes his lap against your ass.
It’s too much and he’s too hard. Neither of you are paying much attention to the show anymore, too wrapped up in your own little world to focus on anything else. Sunghoon nearly moans out loud when he realizes you’re allowing him to hump you from behind.
“Are you trying to ruin this friendship?”
Sunghoon feels you nod against him and the two of you head out of the venue and into his car. He tries to keep it in his pants on the ten minute drive back to his apartment. You don’t fuss when Sunghoon shoves his hand between your legs and keeps rubbing over your pussy as he drives, one hand on the wheel while he plays with you. Your best friend bites his lip and tenses when arousal gushes out of you.
“Recline and open your legs wider, baby.” You do as he says and he pats your clit twice. “Good girl, listening to me like that.” He switches his ministrations and brings his thumb to rub over your clit in back and forth motions. “Need to make sure you stay wet.”
And stay wet you do. You’re wet all the way home where he locks the two of you in his place until he’s dropping to his knees and pushing your chest against the wall. Sunghoon puts his face between your legs and licks up the arousal clinging to your panties while spreading your cheeks apart with his big hands, squeezing when you yelp.
He pulls the pathetic fabric aside and sticks his tongue into you, prying yourself open for his viewing. His warmth breath fans over your core and it has you pushing back against his face until his tongue licks you up in repeated motions.
Sunghoon doesn’t really care that he’s too horny for foreplay and neither do you, apparently, because when you hear sunghoon unzip his pants and take them off, you’re taking your panties off and taking your shoes off too. He grabs himself and aligns his tip with your hole before pushing all of himself inside.
You’re so wet. It’s so hot. He fucks you like he’s got enough stamina to last a lifetime and your tits bounce against the walls at the pace he’s set. He pulls back far enough that he nearly slips out every time but without fail, Sunghoon will make sure his dick stays wet the entire time you’re with him.
He pulls you back onto the couch with his cock still lodged inside of you, manhandling your body until he’s got you on his lap and your feet are placed by his knees. Sunghoon pushes his hips upwards and fucks you like this, balls slapping your clit with every thrust. He moans when you moan, the emptiness of his apartment filled up by erotic noises that only spur on his orgasm.
Your release triggers his. When he feels your cum seeping down onto the base, Sunghoon shoots his thick ropes into you but doesn’t stop thrusting. Albeit lazier and more random, he keeps his frantic pace and lets you dig your fingers into him while you wonder how your best friend made you cum so fast.
“Fuck!” you moan when Sunghoon pulls out just to push himself back in once he’s made your body lay in front of him.
“You’re so fucking sexy in these things.” He acknowledges the skirt by flipping the fabric with his fingers. Sunghoon doesn’t give you enough time to reply but you’re too busy moaning to care about the consequences anyway. “Wear them more often and I’ll fuck you like this every time.”
Since when is your best friend so good at dirty talk?!
***
comments and reblogs are appreciated! xx
2K notes · View notes
korncest · 2 months ago
Text
FILL HER UP AND LEAVE HER DUMB!
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SIREN IS TYPING! | FINALLY! PISS FIC IS OUT! i wanted to apologize for taking sosososo long for putting it out, ive been juggling college and writer’s block HORRIBLY >< i’ve written this like 101380203 times and i guess this one is the least mediocre one.. thank you to my babe pillsy & pups for proof reading this and dealing with the fact ive written this like a million times now.. 6.5k words!
WARNINGS! | NSFW! PISS! URINE! PEE! leon will be pissing while he’s balls deep so if you don’t fw piss do not read! don’t! torture! yourself! age gaps, leon isn’t like? the best person? gross, sleazy, i guess! damnation leon is in his mid thirties, reader is in her early twenties, dumbification, semi-public sex? bar bathroom drunk sex, sloppy fucking, creampie, mediocre orgasm cuz leon is gross and only really cared about himself, clit playing, etc etc idk
SYNOPSIS! | damnation! leon kennedy x bimbo! reader — bar hook ups are rare when you’re in your thirties and go to sport bars filled with men, but when a pretty face comes in wearing the sluttiest outfit and doesn’t have a thought in her brain, leon knew he needed to get in a quick fuck. but after a full night of nursing whiskey, he can’t help his bladder filling up mid fuck!
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dim lights, chatter, and old men — that’s what this bar was. 
so why were you here? 
leon was surprised, pretty girls like you don’t come around to places like these often.
look at you! dressed in the sluttiest crop top and skirt you could find. were you stupid? coming to a bar filled with gross middle aged men dressed like that? it was like you were asking for trouble. 
leon had been seated at the bar, staring down at his glass blankly, mind fuzzy and blurry while his face stayed void of emotion. he had been on autopilot, maybe if he was at another bar he would be doing something else— but that was empty wishful thinking, once a sip of alcohol enters his system his mind blanks. a way to cope, simply. that was the intention tonight. but that’s when you came in — practically skipping to the bar and taking the empty seat next to him. 
he had glanced over at you, a thoughtless action, but when he saw you, he was pleasantly surprised by what he saw. 
you were cute, sitting up with perfect posture, your tits practically spilling out of your shirt while you stared at the bartender with sparkling eyes, and you were sitting next to him? god must’ve heard his prayers and thrown him a bone. 
he kept a sly gaze on you while you ordered, watching you bat your eyelashes at the bartender while you ordered, biting your glossy lips in thought while you leaned against the counter. leon felt envious of the bartender, as he stood on the other side of the bar, he must be getting a nice look down your low-cut shirt. asshole. 
as you ordered, leon expected to hear you order something fruity, a frozen piña colada or whatever younger girls like you liked, but leon’s eyebrows raised in amusement once he heard your order. “uhh, can i have a cola? thank you!” you said, sounding so eager, leon’s brain reeled, did you really just ask for a soda? at a bar? are you stupid? the bartender simply nodded and turned away from you. you smiled dumbly and shifted in your seat, pulling your denim skirt down to cover your thighs. barely. you pulled out your phone, a cute iphone 4s with a hot pink cover, it suited you. 
moving to grip his glass, leon pulled it to his lips before he took a long swig of the drink, a small breath leaving his lips as he put the glass back.
“if you wanted a soda you could’ve gone to circle-k, you know?” leon said, turning his head to face you, a lazy smirk curling at his lips. 
your head perked up, and looking over at him, you smiled dumbly. “yeah! but, like, i wanted an excuse to go out! but alcohol is so gross.” you replied, a small laugh leaving your lips as you turned your body to face him fully, leon let out a low hum. “so, you decided to get all dressed up and go to a bar.. just to get a soda? c’mon, at least get a drink.” leon pressed, glancing over at the bartender before looking back at you. “it’s part of the bar experience, sweetheart.” he said, waving his hand in a swift moment as he spoke, you squirmed in your seat, biting your bottom lip, “mmm, i don’t know.. what do you think i’d like?” 
leaning back against his stool, leon let out a small laugh, “i don’t know, sweetheart. a strawberry margarita? you like strawberries, yeah? it’s a nice fruity drink, something you can handle.” he nodded, watching as the bartender slid over a glass of soda. 
taking the glass, you moved it over to your lips, popping the red straw into your mouth before taking a sip. “are you gonna buy it for me?” you teased, batting your eyelashes up at him before you crossed your legs. huffing, leon let out a small laugh, “what’s in it for me?” did you really think you could drain his wallet and not give him anything in return? c’mon.
“uhm.. you’d make me, like, super happy,” you said, a smile curling on your lips as he stared at him. 
“as pretty as your smile is i’m gonna need something more.” he said, you’re already smiling, why would he pay ten bucks to see you smile more? sure, he had the money, but did he want to give it? nah. 
“aww,” you whined, “okay, you can get anything you want, mister!” you caved, voice high pitched and cheery. “but, like, as long as it’s not like, i don’t know..wanting my organs or something, i can totally give it to you!” you said, giving him a playful wink. were you being serious? anything? c’mon, that was just too easy, a small smirk curled on his lips at your words, anything?
letting out a breath through his nose, leon crossed his arms over his chest, his leather jacket squeaking at the movement. 
“you’re way too eager, sweetheart. you’ll end up in the wrong hands if you continue like that.” he said, moving his head to the side and shifting in his seat, pushing his hips forward, his thighs spreading slightly. manspreading like any other guy at the bar, but your eager eyes flickered down to his pants, watching as the denim fabric curled on his lap.
a spark of thought hit you, your thighs clenched together as a small laugh left your lips, your head moved to the side and you waved his words off. 
“c’mon, mister, i’m a big girl— i can toootally handle myself!” you giggled, moving your finger to curl around your hair. 
leon let out a hum, not believing a word you said. 
“yeah? you can?” he mused, he knew you didn’t.
you nodded though, perking up on your chair, arching your back slightly to keep your posture upright and your tits pushed out. leon took a glance, leopard print shirt that barely fit and a push up bra, your tits were squeezed together in a full display. were you good at tit jobs? with a rack like that, he sure hoped you were.
“well, duh! i’m like, super good at handling myself, mister!” you rebutted, putting your hands on your hips as you hit the power pose, trying to prove your point. 
“leon,” he said, your head tilted to the side, “leon?” you asked stupidly. 
“that’s my name.”
“ohh.”
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you were real cute, but damn, you were real stupid too. 
it didn’t take a scientist to figure it out, fuck, look at you. 
you stared at leon like a puppy— a stupid puppy look. not a single worry behind your dumb little eyes, you believed the world was at the palm of your hand, and it probably was. from the stories you told him you were nothing more than daddy’s princess, one pout, and dear old dad was pulling out his checkbook and writing off a fat check with how much money you asked for. he was even paying for your apartment, you had it nice, no need to study or learn, daddy’s inheritance would cover any of your worries. 
you reminded him of ashley, like a far memory, but ashley was a sweetheart. a smart girl, but you? you were just spoiled and stupid, he didn’t mind though, he could easily deal with you if he wanted to. 
leon noticed how you stared at him when he spoke, wide doe eyes focused on him intently like he was the messiah while you were nothing more than an apostle, like the words that slipped from his tongue were the route to salvation. it was silly, he was just some guy in his thirties, buzzed, and in a bar— were you one of those girls that were into that? the cute bimbos that wanted nothing more than a taste of cock from guys over half their age? probably, he’s already caught you sneaking glances at his pants, each shift and adjustment had your eyes glued to his crotch, thinking you were being slick. 
god, what a cock hungry whore. 
he had noted that as he spoke, you would nod along to his words with such eagerness, it made him wonder if you were even listening to him. 
c’mon, his mundane stories weren’t that interesting, maybe if he was honest about his job then he could understand why you seemed so interested, but he was sure if he uttered a single word about the undead the government would have his head. a red little glow dot resting against his forehead and that would be the end of leon scott kennedy. 
the government blew up an entire city with the infected and innocents without care to preserve their image. after all, one more life wouldn’t worry them. well, maybe his, leon’s the president’s lap dog after all—
nonetheless, those were secrets he wasn’t going to share with a nice pair of tits. you probably wouldn’t even understand.
you spoke a lot, with a cute little valley girl accent, the words like and totally were practically engraved into your vocabulary. If leon took a shot everytime you said any of the words he would’ve died of alcohol poisoning. 
the more you spoke, the more leon realized you didn’t have a sense of safety, it was almost funny. why did he know what high school you went to? what state were you born in? what your favorite doll growing up was? you had just met him and you were letting him in on all your secrets, like that one time you ran over the neighbor's mailbox and fled the scene immediately after, then playing the innocent angel card. or when you cheated on all your trigonometry tests in high school by writing the answers on your upper thigh and then wearing a skirt to have easy access to the answers. in your words, you never got caught because if the teacher asked you to lift your skirt he would be a sick perv! 
he wasn’t complaining, your stories were entertaining at the very least, a nice distraction from his own world. 
by now, leon had given in and gotten you that margarita, only one, sure he wasn’t a saint— he was a guy in his mid-thirties wanting to fuck a girl almost a decade younger than him— but he wasn’t horrible. 
you, on the other hand, had no sense of how to drink alcohol, sipping down the juice like it was juice and the effects were beginning to become apparent by your tittering and giggling. 
you were having a great time, getting looser and sloppier as you continued.
“y’know, leon? you’re like, totally hot! likeee, i haven’t met a guy your age that looks this good!” you babbled, giggling at your own words.
nodding, leon raised an eyebrow, “yeah?” he replied, he was getting force fed compliments by you, it was starting to get annoying, but he wouldn’t say that. 
you were like a puppy, he already made that connection,
but you were definitely one of those overly clingy puppies, the ones that whimpered and whined when their owner wasn’t in the same room they were in. you’d probably do anything to please your hypothetical owner, you already offered to do anything for a margarita, god knows the skies the limit with bimbos like you. 
he wondered if you would follow him out of the bar, like a puppy. where are we going? can i come with you? can you take me in?— okay, maybe not that last part, but he couldn’t be too sure. 
you’d have some cute floppy ears as a pup, leon thinks, but that was enough of the puppy metaphors, you were still giggling and babbling stupidities. 
after a bit of buttering up, leon decided that if he wanted to make a move on you, it was now more than ever.
you would be more than willing, that’s for sure.
taking out his wallet and calling over the bartender, leon fished out his black american express— sure, it was a silent brag, but he didn’t care. 
“i’ll pay for the lady’s drinks too,” leon explained as he signaled over to his side, the man nodded and took his card before stepping away to finish the transaction. you stared at the older man with stars behind your eyes, sparkling under the dim yellow light, “you’re so sweet,” you began, leaning in against his arm, batting your eyelashes up at him. 
your arms wrapped around him, hugging it, squeezing and feeling the muscle under the jacket that just so did a good job at hiding his build. 
your brain was starting to melt as you squeezed his biceps, “can i make it up for you? i can pay you back,” you cooed, words slurred slightly as you nuzzled your head against his jacket. it smelled nice, he smelled nice. his cologne was almost sweet, and masculine, but not musky and gross, it was so nice, he was just so nice. 
leon glanced down at you, taking back his credit card as he did so. 
you were so fucking desperate to get fucked it was almost laughable.
“you can make it up to me,” he hummed, his arm slipping around your smaller waist, his hand coming to rest against your hip, squeezing the flesh. 
“c’mon,” he nudged, patting your hip before he stood up from the stool and took hold of your hand, leading you away from the bar. it almost seemed like he was taking you to the back exit, was his car back there? you followed behind him, clinging onto his arm, you were nothing more than arm candy for him. 
as the music got softer and the chatter died down, leon lead you down the small hallway in the back of the bar, by where the bathrooms were. 
you assumed you would just walk past them and slip out through the back door, but instead, leon’s arm moved to rest behind your back, letting you walk in front of him before he pushed you into the men’s bathroom. 
stumbling, your gaze moved around the new setting. “leon! you didn’t need to push!” you whined, fixing your skirt as you looked back at the older man. leon was by the door, his hand holding the door knob as he shut the door behind him and locked it. “sorry, sweetheart, couldn’t have anyone see you. you’re not supposed to be in here.” he said, a small huff of amusement leaving his lips as he moved to face you. “men’s,” he reminded, pointing over at the singular urinal by the toilet. 
“oh, yeah,” you said, suddenly not seeing an issue with his actions. 
“why are we here?” you asked curiously, leaning against the sink, the bathroom was small, just a single-person layout. “you said you wanted to make it up for me, right?” leon reminded, you nodded, your head tilting to the side. “well, you’re gonna make it up to me here, that’s not a problem, right? there’s no harm in a bit of thrill.” he waved off.
“wait, we’re gonna fuck here? but that’s like, totally gross!” you whined, your lips curling into a small pout, leon stepped closer, “it’s not that bad, it’s just a bathroom.” he shrugged, he’s been in worse situations. he’s ran through sewers, lived off scraps in spain, and didn’t have access to showers, he’s been covered in blood and zombie guts before— safe to say, a meek little bathroom at a bar was the least of his worries. 
“but like, the floor is gross and sticky!” you whined, why couldn’t he take you back to his place? that’s so not cool! 
leon hummed, moving to press your body against the porcelain sink of the bathroom, he stood behind you, his hands resting on your hips nicely. “i’m not gonna throw you against the floor, sweetheart, relax,” he said, a small breath leaving his lips as he moved one of his hands against your upper back, applying pressure and bending you over the sink. your manicured hands moved and gripped the sides of the sink as your head leaned up. 
you locked eyes with leon through the mirror, he had the same brooding expression he’s been holding for most of the evening. 
leon’s gaze moved from your back to your pretty face as he gazed at you through the mirror, icy blue eyes meeting your warmer ones. “i’m gonna keep you here, yeah? bent over and pretty, so relax.” he explained, his hands moving back down to your hips, sliding down to grip your ass. he squeezed the flesh of your ass before his hands slipped your denim skirt up. 
“cute,” he complimented, tone coming out more monotone than he intended. you were wearing these cute literally lace panties, they were a cutesy little pastel pink. 
did you always wear these out or were you wearing these just so any guy that wanted to fuck you saw?
your face heated up, your eyebrows furrowing up slightly at his words as you glanced at him. a small whine left your lips, “do you like them?” you asked softly, arching your back nicely, popping your ass out, the curve of it showing off the cute little panties like it was a lingerie ad. or screenshot of a porn video. “yeah,” leon replied, “who are you trying to impress, sweetheart?” he asked, rubbing the curve of your ass idly. 
you bit your bottom lip and swayed your hips twice to side in a slow motion, “you?” cheeky. leon let out a scoffing laugh as his hand moved away from your ass before it came back down, smacking your flesh, your body jolted in surprise. “leon!” ouch! what the fuck! “sorry, i couldn’t help it.” leon said from behind you, looking at the mirror, you noticed the lazy smirk on his lips. 
“you’re mean, at least give me a warning.” you whined, “that would take away the fun, don’t be a baby.” leon grumbled.
pursing your lips, you let out a small huff, asshole!
leon’s hands moved to your panties, hooking his fingers around the waistband before he tugged them down unceremoniously. he was sloppy and drunk, besides, this was a quick bathroom fuck, he wasn’t going to play like the man of your dreams.
chewing on the inside of your cheek, you felt the bathroom breeze caress your exposed skin. 
leon didn’t care enough to push your panties down to your ankles, deciding to just leave them by your mid-thigh.
his hands reached back up to your ass before he angled your hips up slightly and slipped down to his knees. “leon—?” you were just about to ask what he was doing before you were cut off by a gasp being ripped out of your lungs, feeling his warm tongue press against your puffy pussy. 
leon’s lips were pressed against your cunt, one hand holding your thigh up as your weight rested on the porcelain sink, the edge of the sink still digging against your pelvis uncomfortably— but the attention to your pussy was making the discomfort a forgotten thought.
“leon!” you squeaked, your hand squeezing the sink as he sloppily licked and sucked on your cunt. 
was it the best head you’ve ever gotten? no, but you didn’t care— given that it was an older man and hotter than any grimy guy your age, you didn’t really care! 
huffing against your cunt, leon slipped his tongue between your folds, he wasn’t doing this to get you off either, but he didn’t have lube, so spit was the second-best option. with his eyes shut, his nails dug into your thighs, savoring the taste of your cunt. 
you kept your back arched and your ass stuck out as small mewls and whines left your glossy lips, your eyebrows furrowing slightly as your breathing got shaky. 
his licks were quick and sloppy, his own spit rolling down his chin, making his skin glossy before she pulled away from your cunt— a line of drool connecting his tongue and your cunt. 
you let out a noise of displeasure, that was so quick and anti-climactic!
standing back up, leon huffed as he stared down at you, catching the pout on your lips. “what? did you want me to go in without prep?” he asked, letting out a small breathy laugh, “should’ve just told me.” he shrugged, his hands slipping down to his pants as he sloppily undid his belt, fumbling with the leather.
“what? no!” without prep? that would hurt! 
“then stop pouting.” leon bit back. 
slipping his cock out of his pants, he let out a shaky breath as his hand wrapped around it. beating his fist around his dick, leon huffed, feeling his cock come to life slowly— the whiskey was making it hard to keep his cock up, but eventually, he managed a semi. 
good enough. 
moving his cock against your slick cunt, leon nudged the tip against your warm pussy, teasing your folds. letting out a small breath through parted lips, your eyes shut, focusing on the feeling. 
tilting his head to the side as his gaze stayed focused on your cunt, watching your spit covered folds spread as he rubbed his tip up and down your slit, slipping it under before he slapped his shaft against your puffy clit, watching your shoulders tense at the feeling:
“g’nna put it in,” leon mumbled, slurring his words slightly.
“o-okay.”
slipping his tip back against your slit, leon nudged his cock forward, his tip pushing apart your walls, they eagerly spread— warm and wet, welcoming his cock nicely. 
sucking in a sharp breath, leon clenched his jaw as his lips pursed, fuck, was the only thought in his mind.
feeling his cock push past your pussy walls in a slow, savoring pace, your eyes fluttered as they rolled back, your lips parting as a shallow gasp left your lips. gripping the porcelain sink, you whined. “leon..” you mumbled, biting your bottom lip as you raised your gaze to look at him through the mirror. 
“yeah?” he mused, his hips and thighs resting flat against your ass as he held your hips. meeting his gaze, his own eyes were lidded, face flushed pink, “i haven’t even started n’you’re already whimpered like a puppy.” he huffed, moving one hand to your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair as he yanked it back— making your back arch almost painfully. 
a sharp yelp left your lips at the movement, “..leave me alone,” you replied to his tease, your eyes shutting. 
leon said nothing in reply, instead, he pulled his hips back, feeling your walls hug him snugly, a shuddering breath leaving his lips as he did so. you might be a fucking idiot, but your pussy was making his brain numb. 
gasping out a moan, you felt his cock pull back before it slipped back inside your cunt, his cock nuzzling against your cervix. your pussy was practically a fleshlight if leon thought about it. 
drunk bathroom sex wasn’t something out of a dream or a porno, it wasn’t meant to be meticulous and romantic, it was gross and sloppy— that’s what this was. leon’s cock stuffing in and out of your pretty pussy at an uneven pace, hard, fast, and sloppy. 
“f—fuck—“ you choked out, your hand moving to rest against the mirror as you clung desperately onto something. your eyes were shut, lips parted into an ‘o’ shape as his cock bullied your pussy, “s-slow down!” you squeaked. leon groaned, “you can take it, relax.“ he muttered, hips snapping against yours, heavy balls slapping against your puffy clit. 
letting out a drawn-out moan, you shook your head dumbly, your brain mushy, “no..” you mumbled. yes, you could take it, if anything, you wanted it, but what happened to having fun? leon let out a small grunt, gripping your hair and making you arch more— he leaned over slightly and pressed a small kiss on your forehead, “your pussy is telling me otherwise, sweetheart.” he cooed, letting go of your hair before he gripped your forearms and brought them to your back, keeping them flush against your back before using them as leverage to continue fucking your cunt.
your eyes rolled back as your body rested against the porcelain, fuck! you were so turned on it was hard to place it into words—! you couldn’t even speak. 
guttural moans were leaving your lips, your walls fluttering around his cock, squeezing and gripping, sucking his cock back inside you greedily. 
while leon fucked you, he realized how increasingly louder you were getting. your pretty moans were nothing but an ego boost, but he shouldn’t be fucking a twenty-something-year-old girl in a public bathroom, he doubts the shitty country music that played through the bar speakers was going to be able to drown out your noise if you continue, so he moved to grip your wrists in one hand before he reached out from behind you and clasped over your mouth.
your cunt squeezed, “shhh,” leon cooed, “can’t let people hear you, remember?” he reminded, making sure you kept quiet. nodding, you moaned into his hand and squirmed, cheek pressed against the porcelain. 
mid-fuck, leon’s drunken mind realized something— 
he needed to fucking piss. 
he hasn’t realized it before, but now, his lower belly was aching, his full bladder making sure it’s known. 
he tried to ignore it, he just wanted to cum, honestly— but as he continued to slip his cock in and out of your cunt, the more his bladder ached. the organ crying out at him, all that whiskey from earlier was now aching to come out.. how many drinks did he have before? he doesn’t even remember. 
the pressure in his belly was increasing, he could feel his bladder tossle as he moved, if he pressed on his lower belly right now— right above his pubic bone— it would probably be hard. it was like a balloon, jesus. 
letting out a small hiss, leon muttered an “oh, fuck,” moving his hand from your mouth back to your hip, gripping the fat of your hip tightly. his brow furrowing and jaw clenching as he shut his eyes. 
he could pull out, sure, but he was already do fucking close— “..what happened?” you babbled after hearing the mutter coming from the older man after his hips stilled.
leon glanced over at your face through the mirror, you looked fucked out and faced, face of a fucking pornstar. 
“i gotta take a piss.” he mumbled, his hips stilling, but his cock still nuzzled inside you. “huh?” you mumbled, peeking your head up to meet his gaze through the mirror. “i have to piss.” he repeated, his face was flushed, was it because was embarrassed? because he was in the middle of fucking? or because he was drunk? he didn’t know. 
your mind wasn’t going— too stupid and fucked out to even think straight. 
“then go pee—“ you mumbled, assuming he needed to pull out and take a piss before coming back. 
leon stared down at your cunt, feeling your gummy walls squeeze him real nice, “how about i piss inside you?” he breathed, finding his words humorous, this seemed to bring you back to reality as your head perked up. “w-what?!” you squealed, “ew! don’t do that!” you argued, pee was gross already! and inside you? that’s worse!
leon let out an amused breath, “it’s just pee, sweetheart, why the fuzz?” he mumbled, sucking in a breath and feeling his bladder squeeze, making him shudder.
he already made up his mind.
leaning over you, leon pressed his body weight on your back, keeping you sandwiched over the sink. “everyone pees, don’t get all shy on me now.” he mumbled, pressing a kiss on your shoulder as you whimpered, your cunt squeezing him nicely. “no.. it’s so icky..” you mumbled, letting out a small breath.
“then why are you squeezing me so tight?” his lips pressed against your skin, one of his hands slipping under your body and moving to press against your own lower belly, right above your pubic bone, he kept a firm pressure against your tummy.
“why lie to me?” he mused, “you’re practically choking my dick, if anything it’s like you want me to piss inside you.” he laughed, the alcohol in his system was staining his conscience in his moment. if he was sober, he wouldn’t have even thought about taking a piss inside of someone, but he wasn’t sober, and alcohol makes you do things you normally wouldn’t. so here he was. 
you shook your head slightly, but your cunt stayed tight, fluttering around him, were you really getting turned on by the idea of this man pissing inside you? what happened to you? what would your best friends say if they found out you were letting an older guy fuck you in a gross bathroom and finding it hot he wants to piss inside you? 
leon shuddered, okay— wait, it was getting harder to hold it in. becoming borderline painful. sucking in a breath, he shut his eyes, pressing his nose against your skin, he took in a deep breath— taking in the smell of your sickly sweet strawberry perfume, “i’m gonna piss.” he grunted out, a final warning for simple generosity. 
he might be a creep for fucking a dumb girl in a bar bathroom, but he wasn’t fucking evil. 
at least that’s what he tells himself.
keeping his body pressed against your own, his belly pressing against your curved back, keeping you trapped against the porcelain. 
letting out a shaky breath, leon let himself go, a type of bliss he hadn’t felt in a while enveloped him as the pressure in his bladder released. 
your eyes widened at the feeling, it was so weird! it was an icky full feeling, you could feel it slip out of you, staining your pretty pussy, thighs, panties, and floor. you winced, your eyes shutting, a small frown on your lips as you imagined who was going to clean this mess up. leon’s stream was long and hot, your shoulders were tense, feeling your pussy get filled with his warm piss— ew! 
“s’gross..” you gasped, squirming. 
“shh,” leon mumbled, keeping his hand firm against your lower tummy. 
once he finished, leon let out a deep moan, pissing with a hard-on was fucking hard! but finally, his bladder didn’t feel like it was going to explode, he pressed his face against your shoulder, his body shivering as he wrapped his arms around you and squeezed you. he let out a panting breath, his hips resting flush against your ass, you let out a small breath, with his body pressing against you and forcing you against the sink it was making it hard to breathe. 
“i can’t breathe—“ you gasped, clawing at the sink.
a small grunt left leon’s lips as he heard you, “shit, sorry.” he mumbled, pulling his body away from yours. moving your head up, you arched your back and took in a deep breath, feeling your pussy squelch, you swear there’s still some piss clogged up inside your cunt. 
your face felt hot, you were about to ask what he was planning to do now, but he beat you to it, moving his hips tentatively, feeling your cunt squeeze and squelch. his hands moved to your hips, squeezing your ass, his dull nails digging into your skin as his thrusts picked up the speed— finding the same sloppy pace from before. 
your brain was fuzzy, your head tilting to the side as a high pitched moan left her lips. 
leon’s cock rubbed against your gummy walls, rubbing against the spongy little spot right by your tummy that had you gasping. you bit your bottom lip and then whined, you had to keep quiet, remember? 
his balls kept slapping against your clit, kissing that bundle of nerves whenever his hips pressed against your ass. leon groaned— another sensation filling his lower belly, blossoming like a pretty flower as his balls swelled up. shutting his eyes, his pace started to get erratic, fucking into you like you were some sex doll, mumbling curses, he leaned his head back, his lips parting as he panted. 
squealing as he bullied your cunt, you whimpered, your words getting caught in your throat. you couldn’t think, you could barely even breathe, your pussy hugging his cock. 
“are you on the pill?” leon asked through gritted teeth as he fucked you— you couldn’t even process what he said, so you only moaned pathetically, “sweetheart,” he said, a little louder to bring you out of your brain fog, his hand moving to rest against the back of your head, “w—wha?” you babbled, “are you on the pill?” he repeated against, tugging at your hair, you whimpered and shook your head, birth control gave you ache! you quit it immediately! 
letting out a small groan, leon nodded, mumbling a small, “okay.” before he let go of your hair. 
your head fell downwards as his thrusts stayed rhythmless and sloppy, his balls felt like they were going to explode, but he didn’t want to pull out, fuck.
“cumming—“ he gasped, his cock twitching eagerly before his cum spurted out of his tip. moaning, he gave you a final thrust, nuzzling his cock inside your pretty pussy before his cum came out in small drools, filling you up nicely. 
your lips quivered as your walls pulsed around his cock, leon stayed still for a few moments, enjoying the last bits of his orgasm before he pulled out of your pussy— watching as his cum leaked out of your cunt before he shuddered. he stepped back, giving the puddle of piss on the floor a glace as he scowled— post nut clarity hitting him. 
oops.
he pulled his jeans back up and shoved his cock back inside his pants before letting out a small breath. 
whining, you moved your hand to your pussy, nimble fingers finding your clit as you rubbed it, “m’leon..” you mumbled, sticking your ass up as your back arched. leon looked back at you, “mhm?” he hummed, “help me.” you whined, still toying with your clit.
oh yeah, you haven’t cum yet. 
he typically wasn’t the type to stick around after a hookup, the magic dies after cumming, but he did piss inside you, the least he could do was get you off. 
“yeah, yeah, gimme a sec.” he mumbled as he zipped his pants up and fumbled with his belt before he stepped closer. 
he reached out, pulling you away from the sink, “c’mere,” he said as you finally got to stand up straight before he stumbled back and plopped down onto the toilet, sitting you on his lap before he spread your legs. he pulled you flush again his body, resting his head on your shoulder as his hands slipped down your tummy before finding your puffy clit. 
once his fingertips pressed against the nub, you shuddered, biting your bottom lip while you grasped his other hand as it was wrapped around your waist. 
leon was quiet as he rubbed your clit, feeling your squirm and twitch in his arms. 
whimpering, your eyebrows furrowed upward as your head leaned back, your orgasm wasn’t too far at least, after a few minutes of moans and gasps, your body tensed. your pussy felt hot, full, and soppy, “leon,” you gasped, wishing his fingers worked faster! 
he let out a small hum in reply, not really bothering to put effort — he was too drunk for that. 
as the tight coil in your lower belly tightened and tightened, a sharp gasp left your lips as it snapped, your hips shuddered as you came. 
your thighs clamped together, trapping leon’s hand between your plush thighs as you rode out your orgasm. your grip on his arm was still tight, your manicured nails digging into his leather jacket while you rolled your hips against his arm, practically humping his hand as you savored the friction against your cunt. 
“there you go,” leon cooed, pressing a small kiss on the side of your neck before he fished out his hand from between your thighs, watching his fingers glisten from your slick.
your legs trembled as you took in a deep breath, leon pushed you up, making you stand. he fixed your skirt and glanced down at your piss-stained panties, “uh,” he began, “you can throw those away.” he said, feeling guilty for ruining such a cute pair. you frowned, “but they’re my favorite..” you whined, they were so cute! and sure, you could take them home and wash them, but you didn’t want to parade around town with pissy panties, getting pissed in was enough for tonight.
sighing heavily, leon scratched his chin, feeling his stubble scratch his skin before he dug into his jacket pocket and dug out his wallet, “here,” he said as he finished out some cash, “get yourself a new pair, sweetheart.” he said, see he wasn’t so bad. “get yourself a plan b while you’re at it.” he said, handing you the cash.
blinking dumbly at him, you took the money, “huh?” 
leon stared back at you, god. fucking idiot. 
“get yourself a new pair of those cute panties, yeah?” he began, you nodded, “and get a plan b too.” he repeated. the clueless look on your face was both making him want to bash his head against a wall while also wanting to shove his cock in your mouth. “do you wanna get pregnant?” he asked, his tone having a hint of frustration in it. 
you shook your head, “exactly.” he sighed. 
“a plan b will help you not do that.” he explained, finally, a look of realization hit your fucked out face, “ohhh.” you said softly as you fisted the cash. 
“well—“ what the fuck does he say now? ‘thanks for letting me fuck you!’ no! that’s sounded stupid, fuck. 
letting out an exhale, he took your arm and nudged you forward. “come on,” he said before he guided you out of the bathroom, his steps were sped up since he didn’t want to be seen leaving the bathroom with a fucked out girl. 
once outside, leon noticed you were still following him like a lost puppy. 
“what are you doing?” he asked, did you not have better things to do? you were practically attached to his hip, “what?” you asked as you blinked slowly, “why are you following me?” he asked, a bit perturbed by your clinginess. 
you paused, “i don’t know.. i wanna go with you.” 
leon chewed on the inside of his cheek. he should’ve known you would’ve wanted to stick around— he had that thought before, but he didn’t think you would actually want to stay at his side.
moving to rub his forehead, leon let out a breath. 
c’mon, don’t pull on his heart strings like that. he couldn’t just leave you on the side of the road after a fuck like that. besides, you stared at him with those doe eyes of yours, you really looked like a lost puppy. 
“fine, okay, c’mon.” he sighed as he lead you to his motorcycle.
what the fuck did he get himself into?
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whirlybirbs · 3 months ago
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— BRUISED EGO ; PART ONE ; TOSHINORI YAGI ; 俊典
summary: you & toshinori have a great working relationship. all might is like a mentor. a great guy. a real, stand-up dude. a hero who inevitably has to help you deal with the side-effects of being hit with a love quirk. pairing: younger!toshinori yagi / f!reader ; hero name: derecho word count: 3.6k of pure smut tags: afab!reader, fingering, oral (female receiving), piv, denying feelings, toshi being a genuine lover-boy, someone has a praise kink, surprise it's me, minors dni a/n: i love young dumb full of cum late-twenties all might the tag | next →
"You don't look well—"
"Don't."
You could fry him right now. You could totally, absolutely, blast him with ten thousand volts and call it a night — but you can't, really, because he's fucking All Might. He's All Might and even worse, he's Toshinori Yagi. 
He's... kind. And gentle. And patient. And levelheaded... If not the single reason your entire life fell apart seven years ago.
(That is not true. You know it. You and your therapist have worked through that stuck point — but, it sounds a hell of a lot better than explaining the reason you ended up in prison was by your own actions, not being caught by All Might.)
You're reformed.
Blah, blah, blah, you're the Villain Rehabilitation Program's star graduate. 
They loved using your imagery — the ones of you before you got clean off those Quirk enhancers and put on the straight and narrow —in their PR packages. They love that picture of you — the ones with hands behind your back — cuffed by All Might as you're effectively muzzled by the local law enforcement.
Your lip catches in a snarl.
Don't think about that. 
Don't think about his hands on your wrists. Don't think about the way his boot nudged your leg apart for the frisk — don't think about the way he threatened you, so low and so dangerous, not to move. 
Don't think about how All Might is a bastard, and the media just doesn't know it. 
He's cheeky. Sly. When he's out of the limelight, that eerie #1 smile drops and he's almost normal — if not nearly five hundred and sixty pounds of muscle.  
Like now, on this rooftop, he's more like Toshinori Yagi. Your impromptu mentor in all things heroic. After all, the Hero Commission thought it would be great for the program's image if All Might, the man who arrested you countless times, was the one to integrate you into a more heroic notion. Never mind the dozens of times you went head-to-head with the man, never mind the handful of times you almost won. 
"Derecho, I'm serious," comes his voice; it's softer, almost like he's in his smaller form — the one you always find yourself being partial to, "You look feverish..."
Static snaps across the air and Toshinori takes it — the way it bites at the skin of his hands is nothing. It's a warning shot. Don't come any closer. 
"I was hit with that guy's quirk," you mutter as you try to square your breathing, "I'm fine, I just... Need some time—"
Son of a bitch. 
You've always been a hard one to shake — and even now, as you climb well into the Top Ten ranks, he's never seen you this out of it. You've taken a crowbar to the ribs and recovered better than being hit by some petty criminal's love quirk. 
Toshinori curses under his breath as he winces at the desperation cracking in your voice. 
"If you need to take the night—"
"Yes."
He was slotted to patrol this prefecture with you for another two hours — but seeing the way your whole body looks like it could collapse is... a bit concerning. Toshinori nods, exhales, and waves you on.
"Should I call Recovery Girl?"
Your boot toes the ledge. You need out of this outfit. It's too tight. You're too hot. Your skin feels like it's on fire and the embarrassing ache between your legs is just getting worse with every low, timbred syllable out of his mouth. Don't think about his mouth. 
"I'm fine." 
You're not fine.
Even when you're back in your apartment, trying desperately to shower off the skin-crawling, mouth-watering heat of desire, you can't even come close to relating to the word 'fine'. You're a mess. You try to stand under the heat of the water for a while, to burn the need off your skin, but that doesn't work. 
You're so not fine. 
You can't stop thinking about Toshinori. Must be something to do with the fact he was closest when you were struck with the quirk. Yea. Totally that.
You have to be fine. You need to be fine. This is just a stupid love quirk that will wear off within a few hours. 
Well, a few hours come and go, and it's just getting worse. 
Come on, you are torturing yourself with the evening news, just breathe it out. 
Because you're a hero, and you were a villain. You know what it's like to get hit with disconcerting quirks like this in the heat of a battle. With just a little time, it goes away. Right? 
Right...?
"I AM CALLING! I AM CALLING!" 
Your phone vibrates on the coffee table. Your pupils, full-blown and big, swivel to the photo that ignites the dark of the room. It's a photo of Toshinori — he's in his smaller form, posed beside you in a ramen booth close to U.A.'s campus. He was hellbent on giving you a tour of his old high school.
You always loved how cute he looked in that picture.
Fuck.
You snatch the phone up and answer the call.
"What?" it comes out snappier than it needs to be. 
"Are you doin' alright?" his voice has lost its persona'd gusto. You can tell, just by the soft way he speaks, he's no longer in uniform or on patrol. All Might has clocked out for the evening, and Toshinori Yagi is in the building, "I haven't heard a peep from you all night, zippy." 
Something in your brain goes blank at the nickname. You usually hate it. Usually, you'd bite at him for it. You don't even realize you're white knuckle gripping the edge of the couch as he continues to speak. 
"Y'know, it's okay — I've been hit by love quirks plenty of times before," he goes on; you can hear him juggle the phone to his other ear, "They aren't fun. I'm sorry you're—"
"Come over."
Toshinori almost drops the can of soda in his hands. In the middle of the convenience store aisle, he feels his entire body lurch. 
"What?"
Your head is back against the couch, your hands covering your face in sheer embarrassment. You grit it out again. "I said come over."
"Derecho—"
"I've tried everything," you mutter defeatedly into the phone; you can't even pull your hand from your face, you're so embarrassed you're even telling him this but you need help, "Fingers, toys, even the Hitachi on the highest speed, Toshinori, and I can't—"
Jesus fucking Christ. 
This is bad.
This is... not you. So not you. This is... fuck, okay, right. He's All Might. He helps people. And you're important to him. You're his enemy turned pseudo-protégé turned colleague turned woman-he's-been-ignoring-his-feelings-for-the-last-seven-months. You're Derecho. Number Eight Hero in Japan, his friend. His...
"Give me ten."
And he hangs up.
Two boxes of XL condoms earn him a severely skeptical look from the cashier, but it's fine. Toshinori has bigger things to worry about — like the fact he has no idea what this is going to do to your working relationship, but it's fine. You need help. He knows what this is like — and he would feel awful if he left you to deal with it alone. 
Fingers, toys, even the Hitachi— 
Maybe he'll die, actually. Maybe he'll just throw himself from the nearest roof. 
The mental image of you, alone in your apartment, hands between your thighs as you try desperately to shake the painful ache in your core has him walking a bit faster — your apartment is three blocks over. 
He makes good time.
His knuckles don't even touch the door before you're yanking it open — and Christ, you're a sight to see.
Wet hair, wild eyes, and a permanent heavy breath. The oversized t-shirt clinging to your shoulders is definitely going to be a topic of discussion for a later date. It's All Might merch. His fucking merch. 
When did you even buy that—?
"I'm sorry," you blurt out, looking pained. 
Toshinori's eyes hold your own. Then:
"I've always been a sucker for a damsel in distress."
He's a bastard. A serious bastard. A bastard who you're dragging in by the neck of his t-shirt — a bastard who doesn't complain in the slightest when your mouth is on his in a flash. With ease, he slams the front door shut with his boot and quickly allows you to guide him through your apartment. Your mouth is still latched to his, your hands digging into his shoulders as his hands chase your waist. 
You recognize in the heated haze of the kiss there's a grocery bag in his hand. It knocks against your hip as you accidentally back into the edge of the couch — your hands fumbling for some purchase in the dark living room. 
You pull your mouth from his just long enough to breathe out another apology. 
"Don't. We'll talk about it after," he says, leaning down over you as you scramble back against the leather couch cushions, "What do you need?"
"What do you think?" you hiss as his body presses against yours; he's still in his boots, still in his shirt and jeans. He's... too clothed. Your body couldn't handle anything except the less-than-flattering pair of cotton underwear and the biggest t-shirt you owned. 
You swear he's smirking in the dark. 
"Mouth? Hands?" he presses, his touch cradling your face as he continues to navigate your steady, bruisingly needy kisses, "Use your words."
"Anything—"
Your voice is a rasp, your hands scaling his back as he nudges your knees apart with his thigh and slots his hips against yours. Even in this smaller form, he's got the tactical advantage — not being near death from a fever so high you can hardly think anymore. 
"I need to know," he says as he leans back, his voice dipping lower as his palms brush the skin of your stomach. His fingertips hesitate at the edge of your waistband, and you whine. 
"Anything, Toshinori, stop jerking me around!" 
...What a brat. He almost laughs. But, then he remembers the one time he was left like this — and how desperate he was even after six hours of exhaustive attempts at self-pleasure. 
"Be nice," he chirps as his fingers slip beneath your underwear; his satisfaction builds when you fist the back of his shirt and gasp — his fingers grace the slick, wet folds of your core with ease. It's a tender movement, one that assesses just how pliable you are at this moment. 
And then, two of his fingers are pushing into you down to his knuckles. 
The babbled thank you bursts from your chest — and Toshi actually laughs at how fast you cling to his chest. He didn't anticipate his night going like this. Not with you, wild-eyed and desperate, pulling him into a kiss that's so bruising he thinks his lip splits.
Hands. Hands. Hands. His hands. One hand is between your folds, working you open, and the other is pressing up your curves and settling along your breast. You can't even think straight. The fact Toshinori is so slick, so eager, so good at whatever he's doing, is making the coil in your abdomen go white hot. 
"Fuck—" you strangle out, your lips parted in a gasp as he wets his own lips and watches your face in the dark, "G-God, okay, th-that's good—"
"Better than your own?" he asks, genuinely worried this isn't the progress you need to shake off the quirk's effects. 
"So much better," you wail, coincidentally fueling his ego in a way he never knew he needed. Because, ha, well — who knew Derecho, little miss spiteful and mysterious, just needed a little bit of him. 
"Is it enough?" he asks against her jaw, his forearm flexing as he works the pace up, his palm rubbing gently against your clit. It's an attempt at a coordinated pace, and it seems to be working from the way you're writhing beneath him. 
"I... I still — I can't — I'm so..." you look like you could cry out of sheer frustration, and Toshi suddenly feels a pang of guilt. He can only imagine how you've done this very thing over and over tonight, trying to just cum. Your voice cracks and you whimper, "I can't. I'm so close, but I just can't—"
"Okay," he breathes, his mind swirling with strategic planning, "So mouth."
"Mouth?" you choke, suddenly looking alarmed, but Toshi doesn't seem to care about the added snare of intimacy that comes with him slipping to his knees before the couch. 
Oh my god, he's on his knees. He's on his knees and he's grappling with your underwear, hauling it down the tops of your thighs before throwing it over his shoulder in a very Toshinori manner. 
You've got All Might on his knees. 
It suddenly hits you as he sits up on his knees and nudges your legs apart. He's a man on a mission — dedicated entirely to the task at hand. 
Making you orgasm. 
You wonder how many people have fantasized about this very thing — granted, he's not costume. Thank god. You can't even imagine what the conversation with his dry-cleaning team would look like. 
Toshi's voice knocks you back to reality. "Is this okay?"
He sounds concerned.
Meanwhile, you could kill him. If he doesn't put his mouth on you right now—
Noted. He sees the spark of annoyance, dumb question, and hauls your leg over his shoulder as he delves in. 
Ohmygod.
This is better — the coil is wound tighter, and a little bit closer to snapping, the second his tongue presses flat against your glistening slick. It's even better when he hums, his voice mumbles against your sex as his hands press your thighs to open a bit farther. 
"Keep 'em open."
"Don't talk," you heave between pants, "With your mouth full."
It's like the two of you are at work — this banter. But, his laugh vibrates your core and you moan. That doesn't happen at work. That doesn't happen, ever. A greedy part of you sure as hell hopes this happens again, because holy hell, he's good at this. Methodical. Strategic. Thorough.
His pace doesn't change, the pressure doesn't lessen. The blonde streaks of his fringe tickle the inside of your thighs as he continues his work — and you swear you almost cum when he slips a look up at you in the dark. 
His eyes are so blue that you feel like you're suddenly lost at sea. 
Then, there are two crooked fingers back inside of you. 
You and he are going to have to have a long talk about where he learned all this — because it's so good you genuinely can't do anything but reach out and grip his hair in a panic. You gasp, your whole body convulses, and you almost... almost cum. Almost.
It's Toshi's turn to moan. 
You're suddenly so oversensitive you swear your heart might stop. 
You're writhing away from him, squirming away, and Toshi's lips are parted as his breath fans across your core. 
"Cock," you're suddenly rambling, "N-Need — I need—"
"Right," he stutters, realizing this is good — you're almost there, he can tell. You're so close he can feel it in the air. The static electricity burning off your quirk leaves the room feeling tingly. 
He's wobbling back upright, cursing as he practically falls around the couch in the dark, and palms at the grocery bag he discarded on the floor. He's not graceful about the way he tears about the small box, or about the way he drops the foil square between his teeth as he leans back to work off his belt. 
"Bedroom?" he asks through gritted teeth.
You're nodding, practically falling over yourself to lead the way. Boots, jeans, belt, shirt — all of it is left scattered along the way, and your bare body hits the sheets after an easy shove from Toshinori. Of course, the boxers clinging to his strong thighs are his brand. The All Might logo is almost comical stretched across his hardness. 
You have the wherewithal to roll your eyes as he tears open the condom with his teeth. 
"What?" he shirks, looking down.
"Seriously?" you grit, legs pressed together tightly to try and stop the empty ache between your legs. It hurts. It hurts so much worse when his mouth and hands aren't on you.
"Don't even start," he rumbles as he rolls down the waistband and his cock springs free — he's quick to roll the condom down the thick length of it and lift a finger to wag in your face, "You answered the door in my merch—" 
"Setting the mood," you offer as he steps out of his underwear.
Toshinori then, unceremoniously, drags your hips to the edge of the bed. You almost shriek. It's a bit rough — a bit sudden — but you can't complain when the head of his cock is suddenly being guided through your folds teasingly. Up and down. Over the swollen bud of your clit, across your wet opening. You prop yourself up on your elbows, lips parted, as you try and nudge your hips closer. 
His large hand presses your hips down to the mattress. 
"Toshinori—"
"You sure this is okay?" he mutters, his pupils full-blown as he watches himself slip through your wetness, "I— If it's too much—"
"If you don't fuck me right now—"
"Right."
And he sinks in.
Ha. 
Yea. 
This is good.
You're so glad you didn't fry him earlier. You're so glad. You're so... oh, this is so so so ridiculously good you might die. You might die, because he's snapping his hips into yours and you can see the ripple of his muscles, even in this smaller form. 
His breath is ragged, his voice low and easy.
"You're doing a great job," he says; your core tightens at the sudden praise, "Y-You're doin' really... good—"
Your chest bounces with each thrust, your legs locked around his hips, your whimpers increasing in frequency with every single in and out of his cock. The feeling is better than any sex you've ever had — you've never been so aware of every inch. 
And then, he's knocking his forehead against yours, leaning over you — you're caged against the mattress, and one arm of his is holding your leg up around his waist. The angle change is minute but it's good. Everything is Toshinori so suddenly, everything is so blue eyes and a bright smile. 
It's thorough, a word you're slowly beginning to realize describes Toshinori to a T. There's not a single falter in his pace, not a single thrust that doesn't wind the white-hot orgasm tighter and tighter in your belly. It's worse when he holds your face, though, worse when he keeps fucking you so well while chattering on about how good you are, how strong you are, how beautiful you are—
Your composure snaps when he rumbles out:
"I know you can cum for me like a good girl."
The coil snaps.
Finally. 
After four hours of torture. After four hours of trying. Finally, you cum — and hard. The sort that robs you of your vision and hearing, the sort that has your whole body arching off the bed. The kind you haven't had in a long time. The kind that, of course, Toshinori Yagi would be the man to provide. 
"Fuckfuckfuck—" you babble, gasping, still gripped by the force of the orgasm as his pace quickens.
He's laughing — laughing, and then you're clamping down on him so hard he sees stars. It's all fun and games until he can't stop himself, he can't slow down, he can't breathe, and he's rocked by an orgasm that makes his knees give out. He's wild-eyed, panting, snapping his hips into yours as you whimper and gasp and grip his shoulders so tight he may have bruises. 
Toshinori swallows, then gasps to catch his breath, and then pushes himself up to give you a little room to breathe. His cock is still twitching inside of you.
Your eyes are closed, and your breath is fast. Your hair is spilled across the sheet — and you look content. Satiated. Peaceful. He's rarely ever seen you so tranquil. 
Blindly, and lazily, you reach up to touch his cheek.
At first, he thinks it's going to be tender. Intimate. Romantic.
Then, you roughly pat it twice.
"We're never gonna talk about this again."
Right. 
Because he's All Might. And you're Derecho. You're colleagues. Friends. This was just... him helping you. Like when a friend has a cold. You bring them soup. He... brought you... an orgasm. Just like soup.
Definitely.
...Right. 
"It was just, uh," he breathes, pulling out and cursing at the embarrassingly apparent load in the condom; not like he'd dreamed about this very thing for nights on end, no siree bob, "You needed help. I offered."
That is not what happened. Not even close. But, he's going to tell himself that.
Not like you totally won't think about this every single night ever for the rest of time. Definitely like you won't dream about the way he called you a good girl. Ha. Yea, right. Psh. You're fine. This is fine. Everything is fine.
After all, it's just Toshinori.
He's... kind. And gentle. And patient. And levelheaded... If not the single reason your entire life fell apart seven years ago.
And definitely not the reason your life is falling apart right now as you realize, fuck, you're definitely in love with him, aren't you?
Naaah.
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imaginesbymonika · 3 months ago
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Not a violent dog | Part 1
Pairing: Logan x fem!Reader
Plot: Back in Wade‘s world Logan meets someone he thought he would never ever see again.
Warnings: slight spoilers for Deadpool 3!!!! mentions of death, angst, cursing, and fluff at the end if you squeeze your eyes at the screen, I haven’t written in A WHILE so bear with me
Masterlist
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Wade met you in 2016, while he was staying at the X-Men mansion. You didn’t look up from your spot behind the counter when he came into the kitchen, your eyes were observing how the colorful cereal chunks were floating in the brownish milk. It didn’t take long for him to ultimately recognize you. “You’re Y/N!”, he exclaimed loudly, as if he made the discovery of a lifetime:” Cat Claw, was it, right?” You didn’t respond, instead, your y/e/colored eyes solely looked up. At the sight of his face, you slightly tilted your head. He immediately began ranting about how he truly believed that you could have had your own franchise if Sony cared enough about women before he made a shiver run down your spine.
“You’re Logan’s girl, right?”, he asked innocently, however, the next thing Wade knew, was how the bowl of cereal slammed against the wall right next to his face. He didn’t flinch, instead, he merely ran his finger down the milk stains before putting them into his mouth:” Oat milk, how responsible of you. We should all take better care of Mother-Earth, con-.” But before he had the chance to end his sentence, you made a few long steps toward him until your faces were only a couple of centimeters apart from one another. “That is so hot.”, Wade whispered while you studied his burned features.
“Don’t you ever take his name into your mouth again, or I’ll cut your tongue out!”
“That’s even hotter!”
Wade very quickly learned that despite your powers, your inability to die, and your unbelievably harsh persona you carried a lot of heartbreak inside. Things between you and Logan didn’t end well. You heard about his death through Charles Xavier, a couple of months after he mysteriously disappeared. And never getting any actual explanation or closure had turned you into a person no one could recognize anymore. You were always angry, short-tempered, and mean like a nervous dog. Because let’s call it by its name: you were beyond hurt. There was no term in the dictionary that could fully define how you felt about the whole situation.
So when Wade came across the other Logan, he eventually brought you up. “You’re a hero in my world, you know. Everyone idolizes you.”, Wade explained, looking down at the canned food and taking it into his hands:” No wait, scratch that- almost everyone loves you.”
Logan, who was sitting with his back turned to Wade only scoffed:” Whoever that person is, they’re probably smarter than the rest.” “Yeah, maybe.”, he simply replied, looking out of the window:” I mean, she doesn’t talk about it. Except for this one time where she was really, really drunk and we sang karaoke together…it was terrific.”
“She?”
Wade turned his head:” Yeah, Y/N.” He observed how Logan abruptly tensed up, almost as if the name alone switched on something inside of him:” Say it again.” And for one short second one could've argued that Logan was begging. The sound of his voice was almost vulnerable.
The man in the red outfit blinked a couple of times before he gazed into the open air:” We are about to find out something significant for the plot, guys!”, he whispered excitedly before clearing his throat and turning back to Logan: “Y/N, you know- the X-Man. Wasted potential if you ask me, Sony could’ve made so much money off of her. She’s really popular with women and girls above the age of 14, I-.”
“Cut the bullshit!”, he turned in his chair, eyebrows furrowed:” You are telling me that in your world, she is still alive?”
“What a plot twist!”
Turns out, Logan lost his version of you years ago on a mission. “It was supposed to be an easy one.”, Logan explained, while the two men wandered through the desert-looking realm:” Get into the lab, eliminate the mutant killing weapons, and then leave again-.” He took a deep breath, while his eyes roamed over the uninhabited land. His angry eyes suddenly much softer and sadder:” We thought we killed every guard. The bullet came out of nowhere, and hit her right in the chest.”
Only the sound of the wind cut through the stillness. „ We were supposed to get married. Charles had already promised that we would be able to build a home in the woods next to the School. So she could become a teacher… she always adored the mutant children that lived there. Said she wanted some of her own one day, with me…”
Wade stared at the ground:” I am sorry.” But Logan shook his head in comeback:” It’s all good. That’s how life is.“
“That’s what she always says as well.”, Wade muttered under his breath, as the two continued walking:” But I know she's always lying to me.”
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junkissed · 5 months ago
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bad neighbor
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member — neighbor!dino x f reader genre — smut, college au word count— 6.3k synopsis — pros of living next door to a frat house: your neighbor is really really hot. cons of living next door to a frat house: probably everything else. smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, fingering, lots of making out, facial (cum on face), semi public sex (hooking up at a party) content warnings — slightly introverted!reader, chan is in college but reader isn't: can be interpreted as older!reader but that's up to you tbh, mentions of weed & alcohol (chan & reader are both sober), cameos from cheol & hoshi hehe notes — thanks again to @onlymingyus for helping me get my brain in order <3 please reblog or send an ask if you enjoyed reading!! it means a lot to me and it helps me continue writing :) i hope you like this fic!
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it's still early in the evening when the music starts.
the sound of voices and cars honking outside your house draws your attention away from the latest episode of your favorite new show. you get up and walk over to the window, peeking out through the curtain at the bright headlights beaming at you.
with a sigh you push the curtain closed again, heading into the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea. if tonight is like any of the other nights, then it'll be a long time before you fall asleep. hopefully the chamomile will help—is what you tell yourself every time. and every time, it doesn't help.
living in the same neighborhood as the frat houses from the nearby state university was certainly a choice, but the rent in the area was the cheapest in town and you didn't have many options left. with the fall semester coming up fast, every other apartment complex and condo in the city was already rented out. after moving in, you'd quickly discovered why the rent was so cheap: not because the house was in bad condition or because the location was inconvenient, but because of the parties. nearly every fucking night.
you might actually be impressed at how these college kids find the energy to party so often, if you weren’t so fed up with them. every friday and saturday night, and even sometimes during the week, at least one house on your block was throwing some kind of wild party.
by now you'd seen it all: drunk girls throwing up on your lawn, shirtless guys doing keg stands in the middle of the cul-de-sac, people making out literally everywhere. and yes, including that one time on halloween when you found two playboy bunnies having sex with spider-man in your backyard. how they got back there was anybody's guess, but from then on you’d started double and triple checking that your back gate was locked every night. 
tonight, it seemed that the festivities were being hosted at the house across the street. and the man behind it all? none other than lee chan, president of the fraternity and owner of the house.
you'd only officially met him twice, once on the day you'd moved in and once the day after. his red honda had pulled into his driveway at the same time you were unloading your boxes from the u-haul, and he'd jumped out and offered to help carry your furniture inside.
at the time it had felt like this was finally your meet-cute moment, the friendly and unfairly attractive boy-next-door that sweeps you off your feet with love at first sight. but once the final box had been moved, he'd simply given you a smile and a wave and went back inside his house. no cute bonding, no exchanging phone numbers, no asking to see each other again. he just left.
of course, that had been before you found out about the parties, and the shock you were in for that same night when people had started showing up in droves had nearly led you to call the cops. so the next morning you'd put on a nice outfit and went to knock on his door, and it was then that you found out more about the neighborhood you'd found yourself living in.
with the same polite tone he'd used yesterday, he'd been friendly and apologetic for the noise, promising that he'd make sure everyone stayed on his side of the lawn and that no one disturbed you or your house. he'd explained that it wasn't a quiet neighborhood, no matter the time of year, but repeated that if anything happened he would take full responsibility for it. he said that you were welcome to come over any time, whether you needed something or you just wanted in on the fun.
you'd taken his word for it, sheepishly waving goodbye as you crossed the sidewalk between your houses, though you figured you would probably never set foot inside his house while there was a party going on. and as you’d walked away, you had tried to ignore the feeling of your heart fluttering with the beginnings of a crush on your neighbor.
tonight, however, your heart was doing anything but fluttering. music blasted outside, definitely a lot louder than usual, and the sound of car engines revving was already getting on your nerves.
you dunk your tea bag into the boiling water at the same time a loud banging on your door makes you jump, and you narrowly avoid spilling it all over yourself and the counter.
quietly you rush over to the door, looking out the peephole to see a group of people carrying cases of beer, looking around at your front porch.
before you can figure out how to react, you hear someone yell something distantly and the group turns around in the direction of the sound.
"shit, wrong house," one of the guys says loudly. "sorry, whoever lives here! have a good night!" he calls as they walk away, the others laughing over a joke you can't hear. 
with the crisis averted, you head back into the kitchen and pull the tea bag out of your mug, chucking it into the trash with a huff. full responsibility, your ass. 
and then… you have an idea. 
chan had been so insistent that you could come over if you ever needed anything, so you might as well take advantage of his offer. because tonight you did, in fact, need something. you needed the party to not be so goddamn loud that you can literally feel your living room floor vibrating beneath your feet.
you stick your mug in the microwave to reheat later and quickly change out of your pajamas and into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. presentable enough that you don’t embarrass yourself, yet comfortable enough that you don’t feel so awkward.
with a deep breath, you pull open your front door, keys tightly in hand as you lock it behind you and start making your way across the street.
you're almost at chan’s front door when a man steps in front of you out of nowhere, stopping you short. "hey, here for the party?" he asks, holding up his hand for a high-five.
"um… kinda," you say, lightly tapping his hand. you figure he must be the bouncer of some sort, from his friendly yet confident no-nonsense attitude and the way his thick biceps strain against the sleeves of his t-shirt. "i'm looking for lee chan, he owns the house?"
"gotcha," he nods. "gotta check your age before i let you in, though."
you pause, his words sinking in as you realize why he's asking. "oh, sorry, i didn't think i'd need my id," you apologize. "but i live next door, my driver's license is just in my wallet, i can go grab—"
"are you over 21?" he interrupts, and you frown at the question.
"uh, yes?"
"cool. head on in, then," he says.
you look at him suspiciously. "you're sure you don't need to see my id? what if i was lying?"
"dino will probably be downstairs, his room is the door at the end of the hallway on the left," he says, pointedly ignoring your questions. "and while you're down there, tell him cheol sent you. ask him to grab another beer for me."
he waves towards the open front door, and hesitantly you make your way inside. you have no idea who the hell dino is, and you can only hope it's just a nickname of some kind and the man you're about to go find isn't some stranger.
the second you set foot inside the doorway, it's like entering a completely different world. the air is stale and humid, clinging to your skin as you push through a crowd of what must be hundreds of people packed like sardines into every corner of the room.
the music gets louder the further inside the house you go, and you have to focus on repeating cheol's instructions in your head so you don’t get lost in the maze of hallways and doors. downstairs, end of the hallway, left. 
you soon find out where the music is coming from. unlike the normal house lights on the first floor, downstairs everything is dark except for colorful flashing led lights around the room. a man stands on top of a table between two huge speakers as people crowd around him, jumping and shouting lyrics to the song that’s playing.
there’s so many people that you have to push your way through the crowd, but most of the people around you either don’t notice or are too drunk to care. but finally, you make it to what looks like the hallway that the man outside—what was his name, cheol?—told you about.
you open the first door on your left and find four people sat quietly on the floor passing around a bong, a thick cloud of smoke hanging over the room. all four of them look over at you at the same time, glazed eyes silently asking who the hell are you?.
"sorry, wrong room," you squeak, slamming the door and retreating back into the hallway as you try your best not to step on anyone's feet.
with a deep breath you crack open the door directly beside the one you'd just opened and poke your head inside, and relief washes over you when you see chan inside.
he's sitting on a couch with a couple girls sitting next to him and a guy slumped against his shoulder, eyes closed and brows furrowed.
he looks up when the door opens, and a look of shock spreads over his face when he recognizes you. he calls your name and you step inside tentatively, saying his name in response. "chan?"
"close the door behind you," he says, and you jump to turn around and shut it with a click. he must notice you standing like a deer in headlights, because he motions you closer to him with a friendly smile. "sorry," he explains. "people will think it's an open room if you leave the door open. i don't want anybody in here without a reason to be."
you nod, but your eyes dart over at the girls sitting beside chan. he makes eye contact with them and clears his throat, and without a word they stand up, understanding the message.
he helps the man laying against him sit up, then helps him stand up and hands him off to the others. "don't let hoshi drink anything else tonight except water, okay? keep an eye on him until your driver shows up."
they nod and slip their arms around their friend, helping him stumble out of the room as he grumbles about something incoherent. "thanks, dino," one of them says with a little wave. "see you monday for that bio test."
the girls open and shut the door quickly, suddenly leaving you alone with him in the room.
"hi," you start, not knowing what else to say. it's been such an ordeal just trying to find him that you've almost forgotten why you came searching for him in the first place.
"hi," he repeats with a laugh. "honestly, i never thought i'd see you here. you don't seem like the type. so, what brings you over tonight?"
"you've only met me twice, how would you know what i seem like?" you reply defensively, thought he's spot on. this is not your usual scene at all, and you’re sure that anyone at this party who’s even a smidge sober must be able to tell how out of place you look.
he shrugs, patting the couch seat next to him. "alright, fair point. come sit down."
you carefully take a seat, purposefully avoiding eye contact with the collection of ambiguous stains on the couch cushions.
"oh, before i forget. somebody named cheol told me to tell you he wants a beer?" you say awkwardly, relaying the message.
"bastard," chan mutters, but he's smiling, and you assume the guy you met earlier is a friend of his. "fine, i'll grab him something when i go back outside." pausing, he turns his attention back to you. "but really, why are you here? i don't wanna make any assumptions, but i doubt it's for the free alcohol."
"if i was, you'd have to tell me where to find it," you say with a shrug, and he laughs but stays quiet for you to finish.
you fold your hands together nervously. "anyway, i just came over to ask—could you maybe turn the music down, like, just a tiny bit? and also… can you tell people to stop having sex in my yard?"
he winces and gives an apologetic smile. "yeah, of course. sorry about that. i told vernon to keep it down, but you know how he gets when he's…" he stops as if he’s just realized something. "nevermind. i'll go let him know right now. do you wanna come with, or you wanna stay here?"
"no offense, but i'd rather not go back out there," you laugh awkwardly. “it was bad enough just trying to find you in the first place.”
"all good," he replies with that friendly smile of his. "it's not for everyone, that's for sure. just make sure the door stays closed, and you'll be fine in here by yourself. shouldn't take too long."
he opens the door and slips out, slamming it closed behind him. you sit unmoving on the couch, finally glancing at your surroundings.
unlike the first room, the air here is fairly clean, other than the faint smell of alcohol and weed wafting in from under the door. you realize this must be chan's actual bedroom, when you see the posters that cover the walls and the bookshelf full of knick-knacks and textbooks.
you start to wonder who else lives in this house, but soon the door opens again and chan returns, the sound of voices and music flooding in while the door is open but quickly falling quieter once the door is shut again.
"alright, he'll keep it down. i'm sorry about the noise," he apologizes again, but you wave him off, suddenly feeling shy around him. with him still standing and you still sitting, he towers over you in a way that makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter back to life.
"no, it's fine. really, it's not that big of a deal," you rush, trying to ignore the growing feeling in your chest. was he always this hot? for the first time tonight you notice how his blonde hair falls in waves around his face, perfectly framing his soft features.
he shakes his head. "really, i mean it. vernon will make sure it doesn't get out of hand, he’s good at that. i can't exactly give you a quiet evening, but i can give you the best i've got."
you take a deep breath and stand up. you're already way outside of your comfort zone even just coming to this party, but maybe this experience hasn't been all that bad. after all, you got to see chan again, and you got to exchange more than a handful of words with him like you did all the other times you’d met him.
"well… what is the best you've got?" you ask him, and you almost see him raise an eyebrow.
he puts his hands in his back pockets, pausing for a second as he looks at you. "mm, best i've got? probably this room. my room. quietest in the house, and nobody will come in to bother us."
your heart races as you take a small step towards him, standing close to him but still keeping some distance between you.
"so does this mean you're not leaving?" he asks when you don’t say anything, just barely loud enough for you to hear him.
"do you want me to stay?"
he takes a step closer to you. "only if you stay with me."
"do you say that to all the people you bring in here?" your question is joking, but a part of you still worries that he thinks you're just another girl at the party looking for a one night stand. though honestly, you wouldn't even really mind if that's all this was. hell, maybe all the secondhand smoke is getting to your head and clouding your judgement, because hooking up with your neighbor seems like a pretty fantastic idea right now.
"the only time i let people in my room is to let them use my bathroom and to make sure they don't die of alcohol poisoning," he says in a low tone, a little laugh escaping him. "and now, i guess i let my hot neighbor in here, too."
"you think i'm hot?" you ask, taking another small step forward.
he matches your stride, taking one last step towards you so that you're finally standing toe to toe with him. "i'd be an idiot not to."
"but how would you know, if we've only met twice?"
he laughs. "well, you had just moved in. i wasn't gonna hit on you when you hadn't even finished unpacking your furniture yet."
"so you did want to hit on me, then," you say confidently, straightening up a little.
“did i ever say i didn't?” he rests his hands on your hips and gently pulls you towards him, closing the last of the distance between you. his eyes never leave your face, gauging your reaction and looking for any hesitation.
you wrap your arms around him and lean forward, a smile on your lips. "good to know."
he leans in the rest of the way and presses his mouth against yours, and everything else just falls into place. your hands reach up to find his hair, threading your fingers through his blond waves and tugging experimentally, and when he lets out a little noise of pleasure you kiss him harder.
the noise of the party fades into the background as his hands slide down your body to grip your ass, and you can’t help the little moan that escapes as he starts to back you up against the wall. his hands stay put, kneading your ass as you try to keep your legs from giving out already. it’s painfully obvious how bad you want him, but it’s equally obvious how he feels the same way.
“fuck, been dreaming about this since the day you moved in,” chan says, pulling away from you with a shaky breath as your fingers tug at the hem of his t-shirt. 
he pulls it off over his head before leaning over to kiss you again, his tongue tracing over your lips. he’s good at this; not like you’re surprised by it or anything, but it still catches you off guard.
he seems to be able to sense the tiny bit of lingering hesitancy, so he breaks apart from you but still keeps his arms firmly around you, loosening his grip just a little. “is this okay?” he asks in a low voice, but you can hear the concern laced in it.
you nod quickly, tugging your shirt off quickly and letting his hands settle at your hips before you pull him back closer. you never do this. maybe you really had inhaled too much secondhand smoke on the way in and you aren’t thinking straight. but deep down, you know that’s not the case. 
as much as you hate to admit it, your harmless crush on your neighbor has grown into something much, much more. you can’t say you’ve never been a little jealous when you see girls leaving his house on sunday mornings after parties. you can’t say you’ve never let your eyes linger a few seconds too long when he goes out to check the mail and he’s wearing that tight black tank and thin silver chain he never takes off.
or the fact that he works out in his garage with the door open, and you aren’t really purposefully trying to look but it’s not your fault that your window just happened to be open. and it wasn’t your fault that you just happened to look outside and see him shirtless and bench lifting a very large amount and if you were really really quiet you could almost hear him groaning—
he slides his hands down your bare skin, hesitating again at the waistband of your jeans, but you arch your back a little to push yourself closer and he takes the hint. he easily undoes the button with one hand, and you try not to think about how many times he must’ve practiced that in order to get that skilled at it. but that thought is quickly pushed out of your mind when his hand makes its way into your pants, his fingers experimentally sliding down past your underwear and brushing through your folds.
you let out a groan, rolling your hips into his hand encouragingly. you’re already hot and sweaty, standing with your back against the door in just your bra and jeans, but it’s hard to tell if the heat is from the crowded, stuffy house or from something else.
“god, you’re so wet,” he murmurs under his breath almost incredulously as he presses his fingertip against your clit, circling the swollen bud before dipping back down to collect your arousal on his fingers.
you squeeze your thighs together out of instinct, trapping his hand between your legs, and he looks up at you for confirmation. “more,” you whimper, just loud enough to be heard over the music and the noise on the other side of the door. “chan, please.”
he groans and puts more pressure on your clit, starting to rub a little faster and a little messier. he slides his middle and index fingers inside and you let out an involuntary yelp, clenching and bucking your hips in search of more friction. he starts out slow, curling his fingers in a beckoning motion as his other hand massages the bare skin of your waist.
after more of your pleading he finally concedes, sliding his fingers out and wiping them on his stomach, leaving a glistening trail of wetness on his tan skin. he glances back up at you in questioning, but he finds no hesitation in your expression as his hands start to push your pants down your legs and you kick them away, leaving you bare in front of him.
“you sure you're ready?” he pauses to ask one more time, but your quick nod has him jumping back into action in seconds.
he follows hurriedly, stripping out of his pants and shoving his boxers down to free his cock. his length springs up and slaps against his stomach, the tip looking flushed and heavy, and your mind goes blank, replaced only with the thought of him inside you. he holds himself in one hand, lining his cock up at your entrance as you adjust your position in preparation.
you groan as he finally ushes into you, your fingernails digging into the back of his shoulder blades as you struggle to balance.
“feels good?” he mumbles as he lifts your thigh, wrapping your leg securely around his hip. he doesn't move yet, his hips still as he lets you move however you need.
you barely manage to nod in return, keeping your hands firmly planted on his shoulders, slowly but surely adjusting to his size. “god, yes,” you manage, trying to keep your breathing steady. “if i'd have known you felt this good i would've come over way sooner.”
“mm, well. you're welcome over here any time.” he grins at you. his dark eyes get hazier with desire as he holds you firmly against his pelvis. “for any reason you'd like.”
the best response you can come up with is “sure”, barely listening as you start to roll your hips, but you can tell the sincerity in his statement. your attempt at movement doesn't work very well in this position, but chan quickly takes the hint, pulling back and letting his cock slip halfway out before he drives back into you.
the first thrust has you seeing stars already, and you let out a broken moan as he starts to build up his pace. your back slides against the wall as you feel the bass reverberating through your bones, and it only enhances the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls.
“if there weren’t so many people in this house, i’d have you screaming my name right now,” chan huffs against your lips, pulling your body closer and wrapping his arms around you tighter.
“mm, but the music is so loud they probably wouldn’t be able to hear it anyway,” you bite back with a brazen smile. you're feeling bold, the party atmosphere filling you with a cockiness that you don't usually possess. but something about the environment, the fact that you're fucking the hottest person here while hundreds of people rave obliviously outside the door, is a thrill you've never felt before.
he rolls his head back with a groan, and you feel his thrusts suddenly getting harder and deeper. you have to fight to stay standing, using all your energy to keep yourself upright and leaning most of your weight on him, but if he notices it he doesn't let it show. all those push-ups and bench presses that you ogle him doing in his garage must be good for something, from the way he hoists you against the wall and drives his cock into you without even barely breaking a sweat.
“say it, then,” he goads, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh as he holds your leg up. “you want to, don't you? you wouldn't have come over here tonight if you didn't.”
the worst part is that you know he's right. your own curiosity is what brought you here tonight, masked by the claims of noise complaints. the noise isn't even really that much of a bother: you could've gone to bed, turned on your fan and played some white noise, and you would've been perfectly fine. but some part of you longs to know what goes on at these parties, to see your devastatingly sexy neighbor in this setting you've never witnessed him in yet. so now that your curiosity has been satisfied, you really have nothing to lose.
“chan! fuck— mmph, yes—” you whine loudly, unintentionally clenching around him as the words fall from your lips. there's no way anyone would hear over the music, and even if they did, there's a high chance they wouldn't care either way. it's just what happens at parties.
his eyes light up at the sound, a moan of his own leaving his mouth as he thrusts into you over and over again, burying his cock as deep as he can go with every stroke. a familiar heat burns in the pit of your stomach at his movements, winding tighter and tighter with each passing second. your walls throb around his length, filling every inch of you until you can't take it anymore.
“chan…” you groan again, pulling him towards you with your leg around his waist. “please, keep going… c-close, i'm close—”
he leans in and presses his lips to yours, swallowing your moans with his eager mouth. “god, please cum for me,” he says breathlessly, pulling away but leaving just enough room for your lips to stay connected by a thin string of spit. “need to feel it, need to feel you. please, baby, fuck…”
he slams into you even harder, driving his cock right up into the spot that makes your knees nearly buckle. you manage to whimper out his name one last time before your lips go slack against his mouth, your eyes squeezing shut as you crash into your climax. the force of his steady, constant thrusts combined with the force of your orgasm leaves your body tingling, every nerve alight from the waves of pleasure pulsing through you.
his movements don't ever slow, but you can see the emotion twisting in his face in reaction as he watches you cum, squeezing around him so warm and wet and perfect that it takes every ounce of his self control not to immediately follow you over the edge.
his eyes bore into yours, watching your face until he's sure you've recovered enough to handle him. he pulls out and keeps his hand firmly wrapped around the base of his cock, jerking himself with tiny flicks of his wrist to keep the momentum going.
immediately you drop to your knees in front of him, tilting your head back to stare up at him between his thighs, your eyes wordlessly pleading with him as your tongue nearly rolls out of your mouth.
“fuck, you're so…,” he groans, keeping his fist tight around his cock with a few final motions. “you're so fucking hot, god, i'm gonna—”
he whines and his hips buck as he spills across your face, thick white ropes landing on your tongue and your cheeks. your smaller hand reaches up to replace his and you take him into your mouth, gagging only slightly as the salty taste fills your mouth. you wrap your lips around him and swallow, letting your tongue swirl around his sensitive head to collect it all until he's finished.
he pulls back and his cock slips from your mouth, leaving you gasping and licking your lips to catch the stray drops of his cum. his voice is low and strained as he reaches out his hand to help you up, his thick biceps flexing as he pulls you to your feet. despite the blissed-out look on his face you can see the guilt in eyes and it makes you pause, wondering if he didn't enjoy it the same way you just did. but it's only another moment before he speaks again, and your short-lived worries are put to rest.
“i'm sorry it was so fast,” he says almost shyly, pulling you over to sit at the edge of his bed. “i can go again if you aren't done yet. or we can do something else… or i could walk you back home. whatever you want, i'm happy to do.”
you expression softens into a grin, still a little hazy but definitely not finished. “oh, i can go again, for sure. i've got all night if you'll let me.”
his eyes crinkle with an eager smile, and you're already spreading your legs to give him space as he falls down onto the bed between them, landing on top of you. his hand cups your chin ans he pulls you into him, his lips finding yours and melting into you with a satisfied hum. his tongue finds its place once again in your mouth, prodding inside as he kisses you with a level of passion and desperation you haven't felt in a long time. 
he groans into the kiss as he tastes himself on your lips, exploring your mouth and the bitter taste he left inside. you feel the vibrations from it in your jaw and down your neck, and it only makes you kiss him harder in an effort to draw out more of those pretty sounds.
"hey, dino, didn't you say you'd bring me a beer? it's so boring standing out there—"
the door opens and you jerk away with a scream, hiding yourself under chan and using the nearest piece of clothing to cover up as someone barges into the room.
"cheol, get the fuck out!" chan shouts, wrapping his arm around you and keeping you pressed tightly against his chest, using his back to shield you from view. "fucking knock next time, dude, you know better!"
"jeez! how should i have known? i thought you said you didn't hook up at parties," cheol mutters as he turns around, slamming the door shut behind him. "i'll get the damn beer myself."
the door slams shut once again, and chan sighs and hangs his head, his forehead leaning against your chest before he reluctantly crawls off of you and crosses the room to lock the door.
“you don’t hook up at parties, huh?”
he turns around to look at you, and you pause to take him in. his hair is messier than it was when you got here, glued to his forehead with sweat and sticking up at odd angles from you tugging on it. his broad chest is tinged red with tiny scratches from your nails, and it makes you want to bite him all over, but you contain yourself for now.
your voice is teasing, but cheol’s words have honestly made you feel a million times lighter. you hadn’t expected to be anything special to chan after tonight; at the very least, you hoped that it wouldn’t be awkward when you see each other, but you’d figured you were just the next in a long line of girls waiting to have their turn with him. for once, you’d never been so happy to be proven wrong.
“i’ll make an exception for the pretty neighbor girl. just this once.”
“oh, so now i'm just pretty. i thought i remembered you saying that i was the hot neighbor girl,” you giggle, watching as he hops on one leg to put his boxers back on.
“two things can be true at once,” he says with a grin as he walks back over to you still lying on his bed. “besides, i still haven't taken you out on a date yet. would be kinda forward of me to call you hot when i haven't even bought you dinner yet.”
you smile at him, trying to fight the warmth burning in your cheeks as you reach up to ruffle your fingers through his soft hair. he lets out a satisfied groan at the feeling, and it gives you an idea.
“do…” you trail off, suddenly unsure, until you see the warmth in chan’s eyes as he lays on top of you and it fills you with confidence again. “do you wanna continue this at my house? i’ve got the quietest room, and nobody will bother us.”
“mm.” he grins at the way you repeat his words from earlier, enamored with your shy yet playful tone. “if we’re at your place, does that mean i get to give you the noise complaint this time?”
“i’ll allow it.” you roll your eyes and pull yourself to sit up. “i need a shower, and i’m sure you would like one, too. plus i have food that hasn't been spilled on the floor or soaked in alcohol.”
he picks your shirt up off the floor and hands it to you with a smile, moving around his room with a quiet confidence you find unbearably hot. “does this mean anything to you, or is this just a tonight thing?” he asks.
you bite at your lip as you shimmy back into your jeans, shaky fingers sliding the button into place as you sit back down on the bed. “it does,” you reply simply. “you did tell me you'd buy me dinner, after all. i'm gonna hold you to that.”
he leans over you, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips. “and i plan on keeping that promise.”
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you stumble your way through the house, squeezing chan’s hand tightly as he pulls you up the stairs, following him towards the door. you're not worried about anyone noticing you anymore: everyone's too wrapped up in their own business to care, including you. the party seems dulled now, the music fading and the people around you becoming blank faces. all you care about is chan, your eyes roving over his broad back muscles that peek through his shirt as you trail behind him. you must look no different than every other drunk college kid here with the giddy smile on your face, but you haven't had a drop of alcohol. it's just the effect he had on you.
finally you make it outside, and the cool night air feels sharp compared to the humidity inside the house. already it seems quieter as you start to walk the distance across the street, moving away from the party and towards the comfort of your own home. chan moves up beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist while you lead the way, but you're stopped once again by the same man from earlier.
“hey,” he greets chan, only sparing half a smirk in your direction but otherwise not bothering you, despite the heat that instantly rises in your cheeks at the fact that you were caught. “did you get my beer?”
“no. you said you were getting it yourself.” he rolls his eyes, and cheol whines and gives him a look that you swear almost looks like a pout. “if anyone asks about me, tell them i'm not home. tell them i had to…” he looks over at you with a cocky grin. “…had to go take care of something. noise complaint.”
cheol groans, making a face. “god, whatever. i don't want the details. but just don't make me stand outside next time. i'm doing you a favor here. i'm supposed to be working on my thesis.”
“sure,” chan replies, but he's still stuck staring at you, barely processing his friend's complaints. “yeah. anyway, i'll catch you tomorrow.”
he tugs gently on your waist and you start walking again, leaving cheol without so much as a goodbye or even a proper introduction. you'll deal with that later, you guess. there’s a lot of things you'll have to deal with, but at least the wild parties your neighbor boyfriend throws won't be one of them anymore.
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mattluvr · 4 months ago
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⋆·˚ ༘ * a pure smut chris sturniolo oneshot !
( dom!college!chris, orgasm denial, teasing, doggystyle, praise, pet names, slight degradation if you squint )
chris is a one night stand type of guy.
he makes it clear to every girl he sleeps with that they get one chance to make him feel good, one night to supply him with endless pleasure, but is always left feeling. . . meh. nobody has taken his dick as well as you.
you’re the exception to his rule about the nights being singular; he just can’t seem to get enough of you.
consider tonight as an example. minutes ago, you’d been caught up in the throng of a crowd at a frat party, red solo cup in your clutches. now, you’re on your knees for none other than chris, the two of you in the confinements of a spare bedroom, the music from the party downstairs pulsing through your bodies.
chris’ dick is twitching in front of your face, his jeans and boxers in a puddle by his ankles as he looks down at you, teasing the waters by slowly dragging your manicured nails across his throbbing member.
“sweetheart…” chris hisses, his hand travelling to the back of your head, forcing you forward. you resist, glaring up at him, your nails raking with more harshness. he grits his teeth, secretly revelling in the pleasure it gives him.
this is what he likes about you; you’re not afraid to challenge him, take things a step too far in the best way possible, push boundaries. with previous girls, chris always felt he was being too rough, too mean. with you, he could easily put you in your place, but receive enough bite back to make things interesting.
“play nice.” you murmur, your tongue darting out, across his enraged tip, the boy above you letting out a guttural moan from the back of his throat.
“jesus, ma. you don’t know what you do to me.”
and you really don’t; chris is completely entranced by everything about you, from your outfits showing a sliver too much skin for his liking, cleavage peaking out over the neckline of your shirt, to your long eyelashes, batting up at him innocently. you turned him on more than you’d ever know.
you smile, kitten licking the head of his cock again, revelling in the response you’re receiving. you don’t know it, but you’re the only person who can make him whine aloud, who can make the air around you thick with moans.
it’s then that chris decides he can’t take the teasing any longer, needing to be in your cunt, which he can only imagine is dripping for him. it often is. with images of your underwear swimming round his head, he grabs you harshly under your arms, hoisting you onto your feet.
“i need to be inside you.” he growls, adjusting the backwards cap perched on his head. “right fucking now.”
“you don’t want to taste me first?” you challenge, and chris smirks. exactly why he likes you; never too afraid to push the boundaries.
he doesn’t verbally reply, simply bending down and removing your jeans with one swift movement. now, you’re left in your thong, mesh and decorated with an orange bow, and your shirt, the latter soon following the jeans. this reveals the matching bra, the orange detailing making chris’ head roll back. you look unbelievably sexy in his favourite colour.
“orange lingerie just for me, huh?” he teases, rough fingers running up the curves of your hips, pulling at your thong. you hiss, the crease of the material hitting your bundle of nerves deliciously, and you rub your thighs together to relieve the tension building up.
“you like it?”
“do i like it?” chris lets out a breathless laugh, hooking his fingers under the thong and rolling it down, revealing your glistening pussy. he needs you so bad it’s borderline embarrassing. “i fucking love it. you look so hot in my colour, baby. keep the bra on.”
your eyes sparkle, and you oblige, your own hands travelling up to rest on chris’ chest, feeling how his heart beats restlessly beneath his flushed skin. you almost miss chris’ fingers circling your clit, and when one of the pads of his index fingers presses down on the holy spot, you moan involuntarily, head flying down to rest in the crook of his shoulder.
“shit, chris. just like that.” you groan, the two of you still stood at the end of the bed as chris gets you off, his movements harsh yet so fucking good. “god, you make feel amazing. yeah, right there. fuuuuuck.”
a few more seconds of chris rubbing your swollen bud, and he decides that you’re wet enough to take him now. sure, he’s denying you a leg shaking orgasm, but his dick is crying out to be confined in your walls. he’s forever grateful that you’re on the pill; sex without a condom always felt better for him.
he pulls his finger away, and you whip your head up, a scowl on your face. “you son of a bitch. i was so close, chris.”
“i don’t give a fuck.” chris replies, his tone equally as condescending as yours. “i need to be inside you, that alright?”
he doesn’t wait for an answer, shoving you roughly onto the bed and picking you up by your hips, flipping you over. chris’ favourite position is and always has been doggystyle; there’s no sight he drools over more than your ass bouncing off his hips.
so he wastes no further time, guiding his tip to your sensitive entrance, both you and him moaning as he pushes himself into you. he feels as good as ever, and as he starts to move in and out at a steady pace, you feel that all too familiar pressure in the pit of your stomach.
“fuck, sweetheart. you look so pretty, your ass bouncing off my hips.” chris says in a hushed voice, his hands resting on your waist as he pulls you into him slowly. you mewl, throwing your hair over your shoulder as you reposition your weight onto your elbows.
this change in your angle gives chris more access to your g spot, buried deep within you, and he starts to thrust with more power, your vision clouding with stars. to chris, you’re the only girl who can take his dick, and to you, chris is the only boy who has ever handed you earth shattering pleasure. it’s a win win situation for both parties.
“oh fuck, i think i’m there already. baby, go faster.” you command, and chris hears you loud and clear, the bed frame squeaking as he pushes in and out at an ungodly pace.
you cry out, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap, the edge looming ever closer. chris is also close, his thighs trembling behind you, the view of your ass vibrating off him only driving his orgasm forward.
“shit, me too ma. you’re gonna make me cum so hard.”
“o-oh! yes, right there.” you lift your ass higher and receive a new wave of pleasure, your orgasm coming down with full force. “shiiiiit, i’m cumming. oh, fuck me.”
you whole body trembles as you hit your peak, pussy convulsing round chris’ dick, which in turn makes him orgasm. he groans, hips stuttering as he shoots his load into you, longer and harder than ever before.
he collapses against your back, breathing heavily as he pulls out of you, your breathing just as heavy as you turn underneath him, a hand coming up to brush the sweat from his forehead away.
“pretty good for a multiple night stand.” he jokes, fingers now soft as they run over your stomach.
you laugh. “glad to be at your service, sturniolo.”
and sure enough, the next week you’re in his bed, the music from the frat party below echoing through your bones. chris wouldn’t change the situation between the two of you for the fucking world.
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selfcarecap · 1 month ago
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Halloween [L.H.]
Logan Howlett x neighbour!reader
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summary: You dress up as Wolverine for Wade’s Halloween party and it unleashes something in Logan. Him wearing a Ghostface mask also unleashes something in you. Or: Logan fucks you wearing a Ghostface mask.
warnings: smut 18+ (oral, unprotected (but inconsequential) p in v, creampie, doggy in front of a mirror, missionary, cum eating and also Logan spitting it into reader’s mouth, brief chasing kink, (Ghostface) mask kink obv, pet names: bub, baby, good girl), worst!Logan I guess but I couldn’t find a pic to use, Wade being Wade 
word count: 3.8k
note: I didn’t have that much time to write this but I wanted to post something for Logan before Halloween so <3, inspired by that I want to be fucked for Halloween sound on tt lol you'll see what I mean, and some ideas me and @ethanhoewke talked about 🤭, also I’ve never watched Scream so all I can do is mention the mask lol | gorgeous dividers by @dollywons & @anitalenia <3
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You meet your neighbours Logan and Wade in the laundry room of your building on Thursday night. They’re fighting over whether they’re going to do a couple’s costume for Wade’s Halloween party next week. 
“We’re not a couple, Wade. We’re not doing a couple’s costume.”
Wade sighs as he stuffs his blood splattered clothes into the washing machine – you’ve learnt not to ask anymore. 
“Hey,” Logan says when he sees you, and those three letters are enough to make your cheeks heat up. You wave at them both, busying yourself with your own washing. 
Wade puts his hand on his hip, “Can you believe Logie won’t do a couple’s costume with me after I adopted him and put a roof over his head? He’s such an ungrateful brat.”
You giggle, meeting Logan’s gaze as he rolls his eyes at his roommate. He turns away to let you do your laundry in peace but Wade walks over to you, sitting down on the bench behind you. 
“What do you want to be for Halloween? Sexy nurse? Sexy doctor? Sexy cop?”
You laugh, “Why do they all have to be sexy?”
“Because it’s you, so it’s impossible for the costume to not be sexy,” Wade raises his eyebrows and you smile at the compliment, sitting down next to him. 
You sigh as you think about his question. 
“Fucked, Wade. I want to be fucked for Halloween.”
You hear a chuckle from Logan a few feet away. You were hoping he wasn’t listening, but he does you the favour of keeping his head turnt in the other direction as he sorts through laundry. You’re closer with Wade – you didn’t necessarily want Logan knowing how badly you need to get laid. 
Wade points to his own chest, “Wait, by moi?”
“I love you but I’d prefer someone who doesn’t look like a burnt chicken nugget.”
“You know what? Even though I look like a burnt chicken nugget, I still love myself. Learned that from the OG.”
You smile, “And anyway, I thought you and Vanessa were back together?”
“That we are,” Wade says, rising to his feet and twirling out of the room like a ballerina, calling out, “I’ll see you later for movie night!” 
“He’s fucking crazy,” Logan says, chuckling, and you smile as you finish doing your laundry. 
-
You’re late to Wade’s Halloween party the following week. You rush two floors up to their shared apartment, but your knocks go unnoticed through the loud music coming from inside and the door won’t open. 
You’re about to get your phone out to call Wade but you realise you can’t. Your fake claws are in the way. 
You’re dressed up as Logan. You recently saw some pictures of when he was younger, effortlessly hot in a tanktop and jeans, hair styled charmingly, almost like kitty ears. 
Accordingly, you’ve got yourself a fitted tanktop, jeans that make you stop in front of every mirror to admire your backside, and a belt with a big buckle like the ones he used to wear. You’ve paired your outfit with kitty ears the colour of your hair and, of course, fake claws protruding between your fingers. 
You hope Logan doesn’t take offence. In your rush to get ready for the party, you didn’t even consider that. 
What if he doesn’t like your costume? What if he thinks it’s disrespectful? You know he’s struggled with his mutation, after all, hurt people he loved because of it. Wade told you the costume was a good idea when you showed him your outfit the other day, but Wade isn’t Logan. 
Plus, it’s Halloween. Halloween is supposed to be scary, even if most people’s costumes aren’t scary nowadays. What if Logan thinks you’re calling him a scary monster? Oh god. You’re considering going downstairs and changing – into what, you don’t know, but the last thing you want is to offend Logan, and if there’s even just a small chance of it then you don’t want to do it after all. Suddenly, you see Logan.  
He’s walking down the hallway where you’ve zoned out, arms folded awkwardly because of your claws. He stops in his tracks, a plastic shopping bag hanging from his hand, and he’s squinting at you; you wouldn’t say he looks mad but you’re not sure. 
Logan comes closer, folding his arms. “Are you supposed to be me?” 
A smile creeps on his face as you tentatively answer with a “…yeah?”
He looks you up and down and it makes your skin heat up as he takes a step forward, “Not sure if I should be offended, bub.”
Oh no–
He continues with a smirk, “Going around stealin’ a man’s look and doing it better than him? Can’t say that outfit used to look that good on me.” You sigh a breath of relief. He likes it. You smile at his compliment, and then he’s reaching out to give a light tug on the cat ears in your hair. 
“I don’t get what these are supposed to be though.”
You push the plastic hair band back in place as you smile up at him, “You know exactly what they are.”
Logan shrugs. “You got something wrong though.”
He stands next to you with the side of his arm pressed against yours, and you gulp at the sudden contact with his warm, beefy arm. Logan makes a fist and unsheathes his claws, holding them next to yours, and they’re at least three times the length of your fake ones, metal sparkling even in the shitty light of the corridor. 
“Should be much bigger,” he smirks, pulling them back in and unlocking the door for you. You don’t miss the implication behind his words, and you swallow as you step into the loud party in their apartment that is decorated to the nines for Halloween. 
Wade runs over to you to hug you, wearing a sexy maid costume over his Deadpool suit. 
“I love it,” you tell him while he simultaneously compliments your outfit. You look around for Logan and only just catch him closing the door to his bedroom, and he disappears behind it. You were too distracted just now to realise that he wasn’t even wearing a costume. 
Your shoulders deflate as you realise he’s probably not coming back out. He was half of the reason you even came to the party. You were looking forward to spending some time with him, but now that you think about it, you wouldn’t expect him to be interested in a Halloween party, crafting an elaborate costume and hanging up corny decorations the way Wade did. 
You try to shake off your disappointment and enjoy yourself nevertheless. 
-
You’re stumbling back to the kitchen after dancing with Wade and Vanessa, getting yourself a drink. You’re softly humming to the music coming from the other room when you feel a presence behind you. 
Your heart speeds up for a moment when you see someone in a Ghostface mask standing right beside you. He’s wearing the mask with a black, tight tanktop stretched over his broad chest. You smell Logan’s cologne as the scent swirls in the air around you, but you could have recognised him by the veins on his arms alone.  
You try to keep your hopes at bay but you can’t help but wonder if he’s wearing the mask because of you. When you watched Scream with him and Wade the other night, Wade kept teasing you about your crush on the killer. 
At the time you felt like disappearing, hoping that Logan was as disinterested as he claimed, that he wasn’t listening to anything you two were saying, but now you’re glad he heard. If he’s wearing the costume for your sake. Which he probably isn’t. You’ve tried to convince yourself that your crush is unrequited, just to protect yourself. It’s a common Halloween costume, nothing to do with you… probably. 
“Hi,” Logan says. You can’t see his face but you can hear the smile in his voice. 
“Hey…,” you reply, almost shakily, “didn’t think you were coming.”
“I wasn’t going to, couldn’t be bothered to think of a costume. But then I found this so I thought I’ll join you.”
You nod along as he tells you about going out to buy the mask only today, but you’re not paying attention. All you can focus on is how hot it is that you can’t see Logan’s face through the mask, but you still know it’s him. The way his voice is slightly muffled yet strong makes you shudder. 
“So, has your wish for Halloween come true yet?”
You give him a confused smile, only just realising that he’s asking you something.
“You told Wade you wanted to get fucked for Halloween.”
Not able to stop a shy grin from spreading over your face, you say, “Oh. No, hasn’t happened yet. Not counting on it.” 
“No one you like here?” Logan asks, and you look up at him, at the Ghostface mask, trying to think of a flirty reply when Wade’s voice cuts through the tension in the room. 
Wade runs over to Logan, leaning his head to the side flirtily, “I told you it’d look hot, peanut. Are you gonna hunt me later, Mr. Ghostface?” Wade brings a finger to his lip, and, for once, Logan doesn’t get annoyed by his jokes.
“Ghostface only hunts good girls,” Logan says, and your heart starts to beat faster yet again when you realise Logan is looking down at you.
“Am I not a good girl?” Wade asks, and Logan just huffs, ignoring him. You can’t see his eyes, but you can still feel them on you. You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from moaning out loud.
It’s not much later that Logan is chasing you through the hallways of your building, with you giggling and squealing only a few feet ahead of him as the adrenaline pumps through you. 
He gave you a headstart but you know he’ll catch you. You want him to catch you. You’re fumbling with the keys to your apartment when he reaches you, your heart hammering in your chest at the thrill of being chased. 
Logan’s hands go to your waist as he pushes you against your front door. 
“I got you.”
You reach up to gently tug the mask off but he stops you when only his lips are exposed, and he grins. You smile and lean up to kiss him, and you somehow manage to fit your key into the lock while you’re making out and push the door open. 
Logan lifts you and throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing as he carries you to your bedroom. 
With your claws and the rest of your clothes discarded on the floor minutes later, Logan is fucking you in front of the mirror by your bed. He’s taking you from behind, mask still on as he pulls and pushes at your hips with you fucking back against him as the mattress dips beneath you. 
But as hot as it is to see the Ghostface mask looking down at you through the mirror, it’s also your first time having sex with Logan and you want to see him.
“Can I take the mask off?” you ask, looking back at him and Logan lifts you so that your back is flush with his chest. You turn around and pull the mask off over his head with a smile.
His hair is messy and a little bit sweaty, and as good as Logan usually looks you don’t think you’ve ever been quite this attracted to him. He holds your face to press a few sloppy kisses to your lips, and then he turns you back around to face the mirror.
Logan doesn’t push you back on all fours, but takes your arms and clasps them behind your back, holding them together with one big hand. He slides his cock back into your wet pussy and begins to rub your clit with his other hand.
“Look at you,” he nods towards the mirror, and you meet his eyes in it, watching as his gaze trails down your body, to where his hand disappears between your soft thighs, “So fucking pretty.”
You lean your head back against his shoulder as he continues to play with your pussy, but he can’t properly fuck you at this angle, so you buck back against him until he manoeuvres you onto your back.
His lips find yours again and your arm sneaks around the back of his neck, holding him close as you kiss him desperately. You whine when his lips leave yours. He kisses down your neck and over your collarbones, down over your tits and over your belly. He arrives between your legs with a smirk and licks through the wetness of your pussy.
He moans when he first makes contact, “tastes even better than I fucking imagined, baby.”
You smile down at Logan as he pulls your socked feet onto his shoulders, fingers grabbing your ankles. “You’ve imagined this?”
Logan looks up at you, “Every single fucking day. You haven’t?”
You smile bashfully despite his own admission, but he doesn’t let you answer anyway, moving his head back between your legs to make out with your pussy. He pushes two fingers inside you, the tips of his fingers rubbing up against your g-spot.
You begin to squirm as the heat builds up in your lower stomach, but Logan holds your hips down with his muscular forearm over your waist, “Stay still for me, baby, okay?”
Logan starts sucking on your clit, and you cum immediately, back arching as you grab onto his hair. Your pussy pulses and throbs around his fingers as pleasure floods your body. You grind up to meet his mouth and he lets you use him until you’re breathless.
He places a last, rough kiss on your pussy, getting back on his knees to fuck you, but you breathe out, “Give me a second.” You smile shyly, your pussy still squeezing around nothing every few seconds.
“Of course, bub.” He leans down to kiss you and you mumble a question against his lips.
“Can I go down on you?”
Logan smiles and sits up, “Me or…?” he nods over to the mask. 
You shrug shyly, “Well, if you’re offering.”
“Why do you think I wore it?” Logan smirks, pulling the mask back on. You briefly pull it up to his forehead again to give him a small kiss of appreciation.
He holds your hand as you get off the bed, sinking down onto the carpeted floor. You smile as his hard cock bobs in front of your face, glistening with precum and your wetness.
You place your hands on his knees and softly trace a path down his cock with your tongue, gently sucking his balls as you look up. A thrill shoots through you when you only see the mask looking back at you, and you move to suck Logan’s dick into your mouth as deep as you can, tasting your own arousal on him.
He throbs hotly against your tongue as you let spit run down his length, slapping his cock against your tongue.
“Such a good girl,” Logan’s voice sounds from above you, and you look up at him, at the Ghostface mask, as you take his cock in your mouth again, your hands back on his knees for support.
You make out with the head of his cock, gently sucking on the skin down the side of him, licking your way up, playing with him.
“I’m close, baby,” he moans.
You mumble against his skin, telling him to take off the mask, and even though it comes out muffled he hears. Logan tugs off the mask in one quick movement, looking down at you with his eyebrows drawn together in pleasure and his lips bitten raw. His face glows with desire and a hint of sweat, and he hums when you suck him into your mouth.
You use your hand to jerk off the rest of him, moving your mouth down on him as far as you can, and your eyes flutter shut when you hear Logan moan, and he’s spilling the first ropes of his load down your throat. You keep sucking until you’ve swallowed all of his cum, and only then do you take your mouth off him.
Sitting back, suddenly shy, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand but Logan’s already tugging you up to the bed to kiss you.
“You got another orgasm in you?” he asks against your lips. You straddle him and feel his hard cock smack against your thigh as you tell him yes. He tips you onto your back, leaning down to press a wet kiss to your pussy.
When he gets between your legs and pushes his cock into you again it somehow feels even better than the first time as you gasp in pleasure.
“You’re so warm, bub. So perfect. Wanna stay here forever,” Logan says mindlessly as he bottoms out, and you whine into his mouth.
“Want you inside me forever too,” you babble, already fucked out. You wrap your legs around his waist as he fucks you. It feels like your wet pussy is sucking him in with the way you clech around him, and you both know you won’t take long for your next orgasms.
He slips a hand between your bodies to rub your clit as he begins to fucks you deeper. “You gonna cum for me again, bub? You make such a cute face when you cum. Let me see it again, baby.”
You’re nodding dumbly and letting the feeling of him take over, not just his big cock in your pussy and his slicked fingers on your clit, but the way his body feels on top of yours, warm skin against warm skin as he sloppily kisses your jaw and neck, and you cream around his cock as you cum, moaning his name.
“That’s it, baby, doin’ so well. Taking my big cock like a good girl, hm?” Logan’s voice is strained, and then he’s cumming too, filling you up with his warm release until your pussy is stuffed full with his cock and his cum. He pulls out slowly and rubs your sensitive clit a little more.
“So pretty,” he mumbles, fucking two fingers into you and when he pulls them out they’re coated in his sticky load.
You reach out to pull him down by his wrist and take his fingers into your mouth, sucking his cum off them as he smirks down at you, rubbing a hand over his face to calm himself for now.
You both come down from your highs with laboured breaths, and he pulls you to lie your head on the pillow. Logan wraps his arms around you, just cuddling you for a bit, when you realise something and smile up at him.
“So, are you that narcissistic that seeing me dressed up as you made you want to fuck me?” 
Logan smirks. “Nah, wanted to fuck you way before that. And I’m just honoured you like me enough to dress up as me.”
You open your mouth for a rebuttal but he instead takes that opportunity to push his tongue back into your mouth as he holds the side of your face. You make out lazily for another few moments, slinging your leg over his hip, but then you drag his hand away from your face.
“Well, I’m honoured you like me enough to dress up for me.” 
“Baby, there’s a lot more I’d do for you than just dress up in a horror mask.”
“Really?” you smile. Logan nods earnestly. He holds you in his arms for a few minutes as you relax into the comfortable silence.
He pulls your hand up to his lips and kisses your knuckles, “Will you go out with me?”
You giggle then, “Don’t think you have to ask me anymore.”
“What? I wanna be a gentleman.”
“Yeah, very gentlemanly what you just did to me.”
You feel some of Logan’s cum drip out of your pussy and onto his thigh in that moment.
Logan looks at you and gives you a silly smile, lifting your leg off him to sit up, “Yeah, baby, I am a gentleman, and a gentleman cleans up after himself.”
He spreads your thighs as he gets between them, and licks up your pussy, coating his tongue in his own cum. You smile at his words but soon you begin to pout in pleasure as he starts going down on you again.
You sigh when he stops and moves up to your face, but you smile when you realise what he’s doing, happily parting your lips for him. Logan leans over you and spits his cum into your mouth, “We taste good together, hm?” he asks.
You swallow your combined arousals eagerly, closing your eyes as you savour the taste, but a gentle pat on your clit makes you open them again.
“You got another one in you, right, baby? Just one.” You nod quickly, unable to form words with you needily spread open for Logan like this. 
Lying back, you let Logan eat your pussy until you’re cumming again, your thighs pressing against his temples as he grabs at the flesh of your legs, licking your clit until you’re satisfied.
Logan lies back down next to you with his lips still shiny with your wetness, and you lean in for another kiss. He takes you in his arms to cuddle, when he asks you again.
“So, will you go on a date with me?”
“Only if it ends with you doing that thing with your mouth again,” you tease.
“Oh, trust me, I’m not going a day without it anymore.”
You giggle into his neck, relaxing against his muscular body.
Logan turns around when he gets a text, showing you his phone. It’s a message from Wade:
Everyone left and I’m about to give Vanessa a happy Halloweener if you know what I’m saying! So don’t come home tonight but I have a feeling you weren’t going to anyway ;)
Logan cringes while you laugh, ready to put his phone back when another message comes through.
And if you don’t treat her right I’ll cut off your Halloweener
Logan groans, switching off his phone. You laugh against his skin and let him hold you until you both sink into a warm, cozy sleep.
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P.S. Logan thinks good girls reblog and comment on the fics they enjoy 🤭🙂‍↕️
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sugarcoatedstarkey · 11 months ago
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Drunken mess
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Pairing - Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
Summary - sleeping with your best friend’s boyfriend.
Warnings - unprotected sex, cheating, hair pulling, fem receiving oral/fingering, choking. (18+)
A/n- just a little thank you for 5k, thank you to anon for the prompt/idea.
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The music was loud, vibrating against the soles of your shoes that bounced against the hardwood floor. The disco ball spun above you, the light ricocheting of the walls, smoke filled the air and your lungs. Your best friend was dancing wildly in front of you, your back pressed to some girl who’s hands held you tightly by the waist, your best friend moved closer and placed her hands on your shoulders. The three of you moved in sync, you could feel the eyes of the others around you.
Some looked on in disgust but most looked on in lust, especially Rafe. He knew his eyes should be on his girlfriend, your best friend. But he found them wandering to you, letting his eyes roam your body. He had to readjust himself multiple times at the sight of your thick ass pressed tightly to someone’s body, he had the urge to replace her with himself but he knew that would cause a shit fight.
“You're looking at the wrong girl” Topper tutted, his own eyes drank in your outfit. Neither of the boys could keep their eyes off you, the way your tight black dress hugged every curve of your smooth body. “She’s so fucking hot!”.
Rafe nods in agreement, he can’t find the words to say. He’s so obsessed with you right now, he can’t look away. He’s imagining the way you taste, the way you feel, the way you would moan his name when he filled your tight cunt with his cock. “I gotta ask her to dance” Topper states, Rafes hand is quick to grasp his wrist. Pulling him back down onto the couch, with one look Topper nods understanding you had been marked, even if he already had a girlfriend. No one was to touch Rafe Cameron’s girl.
Your best friend pulls away, holding her hand to her mouth. Eyes wide she darts out of the crowd, you follow closely behind. You find yourself in the bathroom holding her hair back as she throws her insides up into a ceramic bowl. “I feel like shit”.
You let out a laugh and grab a cloth, running it under the cold water you bring it over to your best friend and dab her face. “Let’s get you to bed yeah?” She nods and lets you walk her out of the bathroom and down a hall, moments later you're tucking her into Rafes bed and heading back to the party.
Your back on the dance floor, throwing back your drink and getting back into the music. You don’t take notice when a body stands behind you, strong hands pulling you close. You're used to people dancing on you, with you. You didn’t mind the attention, you just liked to dance and let loose. “You look so fucking sexy”.
Your heart skips a beat and you're quick to put the voice to the face, his breath is hot on the tip of your ear. You know you should pull away but you let him flatten his palm to your stomach, helping you move your hips against his. “Do you know how fucking hard it’s been for me to watch you and not touch you?”.
You shake your head, his hands brush down the length of your arms. Lacing his fingers with yours only to pull them up and around his neck, the angle gives him a nice view down your dress. His cock hardens even more within his shorts, he presses himself tighter against you. You can feel him between your ass cheeks, subconsciously you bend just slightly. “Naughty girl” he groans, holding tightly onto your waist. He slips one hand up the length of your stomach and palms your breast over your dress, a soft moan slips from your lips. “You like me touching you?”
“Please Rafe… I like it” your voice is too quiet over the sound of the music but your body is answering his question. Your hands slip from his neck, bending over even more and placing your hands to your knees.
He clenches his jaw, he could slip his cock out and fuck you right here, infront of everyone. Give them a real good show, let them see your heavy tits bounce as he pounds you on the dance floor. “So desperate for me sweet girl” he chuckles, his fingers lock around your hair and pull you up straight, a sharp sting runs down the back of your neck. He presses your body against his own. He begins walking you out of the dance floor, only a few eyes on the two of you. Topper watches on in jealousy, imagining himself behind you instead. “Ella is in your room” you find yourself saying as he walks the two of you down the hall you had been down not too long ago, his chuckle is deep and it vibrates against your back. “”Did you hear-”
“I heard you”
He opens the door to his room and pushes you inside, your eyes falling to your best friend who’s passed out in the bed. The dim light from the lamp in the corner casts a shadow of the two of you over her sleeping frame.
You turn quickly but meet his chest, he grips your jaw tightly and your eyes widen at the harshness. “You want to be a slut and let me touch you on the dance floor… well you can be a good little slut and let me fuck you next to your best friend”.
You grip his wrist and pull, he chuckles again and pushes you towards the bed, the back of your knees hit the bed and you use all your strength in your calves to stop yourself from falling onto the mattress.
“Are you going to be a good girl?”
Your mind is racing, you’ve wanted to fuck Rafe since you met him. You’ve always wanted to be in your best friend's shoes, you wanted Rafe for yourself. But you let her have him because she called dibs first. “Answer me”
“Yes… I’ll be a good girl”
“That’s what I thought”
His lips are on yours before you can change your mind, his tongue slipping between your open mouth. Your arms wrap around his neck and pull him closer, he tastes the way you expect him to. Whiskey and cigarettes, it’s intoxicating. You can’t get enough of him, he also can’t get enough of you. His hands are roaming your body, squeezing and kneading the flesh of your hips. In one swift movement he yanks the top of your dress down, your breasts spill out in an almost slow motion movement. “So fucking perfect”.
He grabs a handful and kneads, pinching and rubbing your hardened nipple between his fingers. Your back arches pushing your chest closer to him, his mouth envelopes your nipple. “Oh fuck”.
Your legs turn to jelly and your bum hits the mattress, your body frozen as your best friend turns in her sleep. Rafe doesn’t let up his assaults on your tits, his face buried between the two. Your heart is racing, scared she will wake up and catch the two of you. “Don’t worry about her… look at me”.
You turn your head, he slips his shirt over his head. Your fingers are running down the length of his stomach, staring at his hard pecs. “Like what you see?”
“So much.. I like it so fucking much”
His palm meets your throat and he pulls up from the bed, mouth on yours. You pull your dress down along with your panties, he pulls away from your lips but keeps hold of your throat, he takes a long hard look at your body.
“Shit… I knew I should have fucked you when I met you”
He drops his hand from your throat and steps back, unzipping his shorts as his eyes roam your body. You're not sure where this new found confidence comes from, you're pushing the thought of your best friend to the back of your mind. Stepping over you sit on the ottoman at the end of the bed, scootching back just enough. “What are you doing?” He questions, he’s standing naked and proud in front of you. Watching every movement you make, his cock is hard and bobbing as he steps towards you. “Touch me”.
You part your knees dropping your legs wide, his eyes zone in on your wet pussy. “Fucking hell”.
He can’t believe the sight in front of him, he’s sure he’s died and gone to heaven. Your pussy is perfect, arousal leaks from your tight hole. He drops to his knees in front of you when you reach down and spread your lips for him, his hand gripping your wrist before you can push a finger in. “Your going to fucking kill me”.
He’s breathing in the scent of your cunt, pressing the palms of his hands to the back of your thighs and pushing them to your chest. Your breasts pressed tightly against your legs, both holes staring him in the face. You clench when he flattens his tongue out and runs it up the length of your pussy. “Holy fucking… SHIT!” You cry out, head thrown back as he devours your pussy. He’s sucking hard on your clit, pushing two of his large fingers inside of your hole. “Oh god Rafe.. so fucking good.. yes oh yes just like that!”
He pushes in a third finger, spreading you wide for him. Your arousal coats his lips and hands, it's everywhere, you're making such a mess on him. His cock is throbbing, pre cum stains the floor, his fingers are pounding in and out of you with such force your back hits the mattress and causes your best friend to stir again. “Yes yes oh yes harder.. fuck! Rafe I need your cock.. please please give me your cock” your begging, tears are spilling from your eyes. “Such a needy little slut… can’t be patient can you”
“No no I can’t Rafe, please… I need you”
With one swift moment he’s pulling you down onto his cock, he’s stretching you wide. An almost burning sensation hits you but is quickly swept away with the rough thrust of his hips. He wraps an arm around your waist and brings you up to the bed, your eyes meeting your best friends closed ones. “Look at me”
His hips thrust deep and hard, your brain feels like it’s floating in water “I said look at me!”
He grabs your chin and pulls your head, you stare up at him as he fucks you into the mattress. You reach up to hold onto his shoulder blades “fuck Rafe… you feel so good”.
“That’s it sweet girl… taking my cock so well. Your pussy is mine. Do you understand me? Mine… your mine.”
“I’m yours Rafe”
“That’s right… fucking your best friends boyfriend hmm, how are you gonna tell her? How are you gonna tell her I only want this pussy and not hers”
The bed shakes under you, your breasts pressed firmly against his chest. He pulls out of you and spins you around, nudging his knee between your legs. You lean down on your elbows and push your bum out for him, he slips back inside of you. “Should we wake her?”
You shake your head, biting down on your lip as he slips into you. His heavy balls hitting against your sensitive clit, he leans over you slightly leaving kisses on your back. “Go on… moan my name into her ear. Wake her up”
Again you shake your head, his fingers pull at your hair until your back meets his chest, one hand palms your breast while the other toys with your clit. “Come on baby girl… I can feel your sweet little cunt clenching around me.. you close?”
“Mhmm”
Your cock drunk, arousal soaks your inner thighs and the bed. The sound of your skin slapping fills the room and your gobsmacked it hasn’t woken her up yet, you can’t hold onto your moans anymore. He’s pounding your sweet post so hard you're sure you’ll squirt. “Fuck your doing so well.. a little louder”.
Your toes are curling, body sweating, the familiar white spots appear in your vision. The butterflies in your belly are fighting hard, you are squeezing so tight around him he pushes you back down onto the bed.
Pressing the side of your face into the mattress as you cum around him. Your screams and moans are muffled by the duvet, your body shakes as he chases his relief. He’s quick to pull out of you and cum on your ass, clenching your hips as he jerks the last of his cum out.
Your body trembles as your orgasm begins to fade and the realization of what just happened settles in, you notice your hand is holding onto your best friend's leg and she still hasn’t woken. “What the fuck did I just do”.
🏷️ Tag list- @laylasbunbunny @h34rtsformilli @maybankslover @lydiasxxsworld @hallecarey1 @mountloverr @outerbankspov @cameronmedia @crunchy-leaves77 @vigilanteshitposting @pedrisgatorade @phoenixssugarbaby @rafemotherfuckingcameron @s-we-e-t-t-ea @rafesthroatbaby @alltoomay @moremaybank @drewstarkeysbae @mrssturnioloo @darleneslane @tierra-0604 @eliana772 @gabys-gabs @applelovesposts @starkey-zegras @definitelynotholly-blog @renmpsworld @delicatepiratecloud @hdhdhsy @speedycomputerfury @tiacordelia02 @bbycowboi @teresalesbian @imnotpretzelsstuff @its-ria-07 @jscameron @rafegirly @drudyslut @drewstarkeyslut @loverofdrewstarkey @ijustwanttoreadlols @sierraluvzz @sunny1616 @tiera-0604 @spookyscaryspoon @slvttedoutmars @ailee-celeste @ashpeace888 @xo-hayleyy-xo @exhaustedbutrelated @ethereal0810 @tayygriffith @pankowperfection @loopylemonpops @oceandriveab
(It seems I can’t tag some people and I think it’s because I’m posting from my phone. Sorry)
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realcube · 5 months ago
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HQ MEN AS YOUR BOSS ...with chemistry
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characters ♡ oikawa, tsukishima, iwaizumi & kenma
tags/cw ♡ vaginal, dad!oikawa, implied virginity loss, breeding // degredation, dacryphilia // age gap, power imbalance // oral (giving), monetary incentive — minors dni! (sfw ver.)
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♡ OIKAWA
needing a babysitter while his ex-wife is out of town and he has to go to training, oikawa is given a recommendation by his teammate. that is how you end up in his massive house by the ocean, watching his kids. before he left, he promised that if you did a good job, he'd give you the tip. you assume he simply misphrased that sentence — spanish isn't his first language, after all — but you soon realise he meant exactly what he said.
he gave you a lot more than just the tip, though. his whole length pierces into you, while your fingers try to grasp at the smooth, polished surface of the kitchen island counter he has you bent over. a futile attempt at coping with the furious billow of bliss he sends sweeping through you.
his rough grip on your waist; his hand tangled in your hair, pushing your face against the cold marble; the way he avoids moaning your name because he doesn't remember it. you know he's only using you for his own pleasure and to be able to brag to his teammates that he fucked the hot babysitter senseless in his kitchen last night while the kids were down. young and tight — maybe even a virgin — but he had the honour of pounding into your chaste pussy, using you as his personal cumdump.
"good girl." he groans through gritted teeth, relief rushing through him as he spills his seed inside you. he fucks you through his high, making your body shake with each sloppy thrust. only faltering when he notices his actions cause some of his cum to leak out of you. with his finger, he guides it back into your hole. he smirks at the implications of what he has just done, and leans down to whisper coarsely in your ear, "maybe if you get pregnant, i'll let you come live here with me. how does that sound?"
he smacks your ass and you yelp, at which he laughs.
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♡ TSUKISHIMA
working for a strict boss like tsukishima at the museum was a lot of pressure. he watches you like hawk, piercing eyes burning a hole through you, waiting for you to mess up or do something slightly wrong so he can yell at and reprimand you. all your co-workers brush it off as him being a mean guy, since it's true he is like that with everyone, but they can't see how much harsher he is with you.
that's only because tsukishima is very strategic when it comes to you. he only tells you off when the staff lounge is empty; he'll sabotage your work relationships so they won't care that he makes you stay late; he makes rude quips about your 'slutty outfits' only when nobody else is around to hear. after he screams at you for the exhibits being dirty and demand you clean them, he corners you in the janitor's cupboard and locks the door.
tears stream down your face, some drip onto the ground while others are soaked up by the cement wall tsukishima has your cheek pressed up against while he takes you from behind. with one hand up your skirt, fondling your ass. the other placed on your hip, which he moves to wipe away your tears roughly with the back of his hands.
"stop crying." his cock batters your aching walls, while you squirm against him, a feeble attempt to position yourself so his tip brushes your g-spot. though, he puts a swift end to this by clamping his hand down on your hips. "if didn't want me to yell at you, then don't be fuckin' hopeless." he stammers out through groans. "should be grateful i've found a use for you. so be quiet an take it like a decent whore."
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♡ IWAIZUMI
an a student of sport science, you're very lucky that one of the best athletic trainers in the business agreed to take you on as an apprentice. you both get along very well too; iwaizumi can be strict at times but you can tell it's because he really cares and wants you to succeed.
when he's not actively training you, he's still very kind. you both joke around some and he's always making small talk, you even learned that he used to be a volleyball player and he's friends with a couple pros! beyond that though, you never notice how his gaze lingers when you're demonstrating stretches; how he 'coincidentally' asks you to stay late for practise on days you're wearing a low cut top; and how he always keeps an ear out for your small — but sweet — whimpers of struggle as you tidy up the weights and dumbbells.
his eyes have been on you ever since you started work for him, but things only change the day he takes of his shirt while cleaning up, and you happen finally realise how hot he is. from there, it's impossible for you to keep your hands off, and he feels the same. next thing you know, he has you sprawled out on the gym floor, laying into you in missionary.
it's been a long day of training and he's already exhausted but he still gives it to you with everything he has, and more. his firm dick lowers in to you while your walls cling to him, swallowing him up. your arms are daped around his shoulders to stable yourself while his hips smash against yours, and from the sheer mix of pain and pleasure, your nails dig into his skin. not that he minds, it's all muscle back there, anyway.
he likes giving it to you rough. not that he wants to wreck that pretty pussy of yours too badly; it needs to be enjoyable enough that'll your beg him for another round. but he likes the way your tits bounce when he thrusts hard enough, it's an even better sight than you doing starjumps. one that he'll never get enough of.
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♡ KENMA
being a stock-trader, ceo, pro-gamer and youtuber is all really hard work so of course kenma requires a personal assistant. when you show up for the interview, he instantly knows you're the one, but he doesn't want to give you such a heavy workload. therefore, he hires two people: he hands the other person all the difficult stuff, and leaves you free. all you need to do is stand about and look pretty. he never said that aloud, but it was made obvious when one of the jobs he gave you was to come into his office and paint your nails. and of course, being the diligent employee you are, you followed his orders.
it didn't take long for him to start experiencing 'favouritism' accusations but they were promptly shut down by a simple 'yes, and?' from kenma. any person with half a brain can tell how much special treatment you receive, he would be foolish to try to deny it.
but it's all worth it. you're like his gorgeous doll, his prized possession, it's his responsibilty to treat you with all the care and love you deserve. he didn't even want anything in return for it, getting to see you every day was reward enough. but when you come in to his office requesting a raise, that's when the negotiation begins.
your lips swell around his cock, having been going at it for so long, but he urges you to continue in his muted, whiny voice. he relaxes in his chair, head tossed back in pleasure while you work on his cock, bobbing your head up and down on it. "s' good.." he grumbles, hand finding it's way to your cheek.
his thumb brushes against your skin while your tongue rubs his length. he tastes umami and strong. cock so long that even when you go down on him, you can't reach the base, and the back of your mouth hurts from trying. but he grips your chin and lifts your face so you can meet his sultry gaze. amused by how cute you look with your mouth stuffed full of his cock, he rasps, "there's a twenty thousand yen bonus if you deepthroat."
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silkentine · 6 months ago
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All I could think while drawing Nami was, “Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?” And, of course, with Robin I was thinking, “save a horse… 🥵”
Design Notes and other opining below the cut:
For Nami, I wanted to go for a mix of cocky Jersey mafia newbie and surfer boy. I like to think that some of the horrendous outfit choices that Sanji makes (especially in the movies) were actually picked out by Nami. She’s the shopper!!! But yeah, the vibrant swim trunks and graphic tees just scream Nami. I also wanted to put him in a wetsuit/rash guard because I think that’s a sexy look so sue me if you hate it. You cannot argue with me that Nami doesn’t wear swimsuits as clothes.
He’s toned but not as muscular as Robin or Luffy (for example) because he isn’t a front-line fighter, I want him to maintain the same kind of role that Nami has in the animanga. He’s the best navigator in the world!! I couldn’t decide if I wanted to change the violent tendencies that Nami has, but ultimately I think he’d still give the more deserving members of the crew a healthy wallop (although I might portray it more cartoonishly). Boy Piece!Nami still grew up under Arlong’s authority so he spent a lot of his childhood walking on eggshells to protect his village and his brother, Nojiko, so I think he never really got to learn “you’re not supposed to hit people just because they frustrate you” lesson. I gave him a shark-tooth necklace because surely Arlong had a few loose teeth to spare once Luffy took her down. Victory spoils LOL
If he can get the girls to stop wrestling and sit down quietly for a while, he likes to host card games (with betting, of course) or watch the clouds while sipping whatever fruity cocktail Sanji whips up. I believe that Canon!Nami is a total lesbian, and I can’t possibly envision a Nami who doesn’t like women so Boy Piece!Nami is bi. I am, of course, a Namivivi truther and Vivi is also a man in this AU. I don’t hate Sanami within this dynamic though… lots to think about.
Okay!!! All-shipper mindset aside, let’s talk Robin. I gave him long hair because 1) it’s hot and 2) I think it makes him look like Dragon. Yeahhh, I subscribe to the Luffy and Robin are half-siblings theory because I think it’s funny and makes some sense. Crocodile is 100% Luffy’s Mom in this AU and I think Robin knows it LOL
For his outfits, I wanted to lean a bit more Indiana Jones where I could; he’s still primarily cowboy inspired though. For the main look, I went with the Skypeia color palette hehe, I think Robin looks good in yellow. I did some flower-petal shaped color blocking on his chaps because I think it’s cute and subtle. I really love that the powers of the Hana-Hana-no-mi are like… unexpected for a “flower flower” fruit and I think Robin would be more aware that juxtaposition as a guy. You might also be wondering about the gloves and I initially just had it for his cowboy look but I decided to put them on all the outfits up until the events of Enies Lobby. Canon!Robin has a really difficult childhood and I think it’s exacerbated by the fact that she’s a girl on her own. If Robin was a boy, he’d probably have an easier time living on his own but would be a lot less emotionally open. All of these elements combine to make him want that physical barrier between his real hands and the world. Once he can trust that the Strawhats will always be there for him, he’s more willing to be more physically open.
I also think it’d be cute if he was much more of a coffee drinker :3c I see Canon!Robin as a connoisseur who likes a well-brewed espresso but Boy Piece!Robin needs a cup of joe (no matter its quality) every chance he can get. So I drew him with his special #1 ARCHAEOLOGIST mug.
It would make me so happy if you left your thoughts in the tags or replies!! Even if you hate everything about them, I just really like engagement hahaha. I’m thinking girl Usopp is next despite the poll results because she’s on my mind rn (don’t hold me to this, LOL I’m fickle). I’m making these for fun so I just wanna make designs in the order that interests me the most. Check out the tag “girl piece” on my blog to see all the genderbends I have so far. And happy pride!!!
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