#being short kinda blows
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wall-eye · 7 months ago
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hi you liked a post i made yesterday abt the second star to the left cast q&a and then today i was listening to the second half of the q&a and you were mentioned for a meme you made about the show and i just thought it was fun how small the ssttl world is !
hehehe yes that was me! The ssttl world is a pod that i still hold very close to my heart (i did a little half-relisten a few months ago? i still need to find the time to finish it), so i still follow the tag and i love seeing new people post about it <3
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k-hotchoisan · 8 months ago
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under the sheets
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<mingi x fem!reader>
making you hide under the sheets in the heat of the moment when Mingi's roommate walks in was the quickest idea, just that it wasn't the brightest, not that you and your pretty little mouth were complaining.
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Rating: Explicit (m)
Genres/Warnings: smut, pwp, pervert!Mingi, whole lot of mingi brain rot, size kink, face fuckin, reader has an oral fixation, blow jobs, someone fucking walks in and reader sucks mingi off under the sheets, deep throat, hair pulling, unprotected sex, (kinda) mating press, clit stimulation, orgasms
WC: 2.8K
Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @sanhwajjong @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtfvs @jeon-ify
🩷stay perverted: the masterlist
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Lying comfortably on Mingi’s chest, the both of you are cuddled up as if the bed didn’t have sufficient space. The silence was comfortable too—Mingi glancing over from time to time when he heard your soft giggles at something you saw on social media. Mingi’s roommates are out for the night, so Mingi didn’t hesitate to take the chance to bring you over—it doesn’t happen often anyway.
As the evening progressed, so did your position—from his chest to now you’ve sunk to Mingi’s lap. You were so comfortable with the position.
“You should pick dinner, Princess,” Mingi says, briefly glancing down at you. You switch over to a food delivery app and start scrolling. Halfway through, you roll between Mingi’s legs. 
You look up at him, tapping his thigh to get his attention. “What about this?”, you’d ask, showing him your phone screen, in which Mingi nods, taking your phone to place his order. When he passes your phone back to him, he realises that you’re in a rather interesting position—right between his legs. 
He cocks an eyebrow.
“You know, Princess, you’re quite in a dangerous position right now”, he offhandedly says, trying to keep his dick from jumping thanks to his newfound realisation. 
You tilt your head, acting confused, “But your roommates know I’m here right?”
The funny thing was that Mingi did tell his roommates that you’d be coming over, he just happened to forget to tell them what time you would be over. It would have been all fine if a knock didn’t vibrate through the room before it swung open at lightning speed. 
Mingi barely had the time to even think of a decision—he simply pulled the sheets over you, it being big enough to cover the entirety of you, the entirety of the extension of the whole suggestive situation. Mingi wasn’t interested in being teased for the next four months over it. 
You remain still, hearing muffled voices. It sounded like San had barged in, but you couldn’t quite make out what he wanted from Mingi. The rest of the conversation doesn’t register in your head—you couldn’t hear them anyway—and you realise your predicament—you’re facing Mingi’s crotch.
And he’s half hard. 
Your hands slowly wander to his thighs, teasingly bringing his shorts up with them, exposing the bare, supple, and thick flesh of his thighs. Enticing would be an understatement. Mingi’s thighs jolt slightly when he feels your warm hands smooth across his skin, but he stays still. His hands are out of the sheets, and that was all the more you could and wanted to see how far you could take this. 
From the sounds of it, San is still talking to your partner. And then Mingi’s body jumps when your lips are pressed against the inner of his thigh, sucking his supple thighs, to the point Mingi’s hands slide underneath the covers to cup your cheeks to stop. It’s a pity that you’re currently under the covers and that your view is completely obstructed, but the thought of making Mingi forcing himself to stay composed all while he’s helpless, and letting you do whatever you wanted with him? That was more than enough to seal the deal for you. 
His cock is slowly growing harder the more you press your hands onto the polyester shorts he wore, massaging his balls, feeling him jerk at every touch—the way his cock only hardens painfully against the fabric, the way his legs slowly spread open as a silent invitation to mess him up even more. 
And you’d gladly take it. 
“I don’t know. Have you asked Seonghwa Hyung?” Mingi asks back, reminding himself to fucking breathe and concentrate on what San is asking him. Your hands are patting all over his thighs, sliding past the opening of his shorts, soft squeezes on his balls through his underwear short-circuiting his brain. Mingi is gradually sinking into the bed, his body getting greedy.
“Yeah, I did, but he’s not replying me”, San replies. He’s pacing around Mingi’s room. Mingi is wondering why San just doesn’t leave instead of just loitering in his room. That train of thought surfaces because Mingi thinks nothing would benefit San from staying, and definitely not because you’re just teasing the ever-loving fuck out of his hard cock.
Mingi pulls up the covers while San is looking away, dialing Seonghwa on his phone, and Mingi is greeted by you, staring right back at him, hand rubbing against his painfully thick and clothed erection. Fuck. 
His eyes are warning you—I don’t think this is a good idea. But it all the more rouses you to want to rile him up—the risk of getting caught makes your cunt leak a little more than usual. You give his cock a squeeze, pressing against the tip of his cockhead, and Mingi shuts his eyes and exhales shakily. You see him mouth fuck from above as his resolve slowly dissipates the more you tease him like that.
Mingi then opts to draw gentle circles on your cheeks before he has to force himself to return his attention to San, hoping that you’d leave his cock alone, at least, until San leaves. 
Of course, you don’t, because the moment Mingi looks away once more, you tug the waistband of his shorts, and attempt to yank it off as quietly as possible, leaving his heavy and thick cock resting on his abdomen. You can’t tell what expression or what Mingi is thinking, but you do know that his cock looks delicious as fuck now. 
More muffled voices are heard above you, but you’re fixated on wanting to fit his cock into your mouth. You spit on his cock, then pumping his length while you let your tongue run over the base of his dick, teasing his balls as well. Your eyes wander to Mingi’s hands shifting—and he has one hand going under his shirt up letting it ride up, his abs coming into full view, and his other hand reaching out to stroke your hair. Mingi has completely given up trying to stop you at this point, slowly letting himself drown in this pleasure—all while San is still in his room. 
You lick a stripe up Mingi’s cock, and you hear his low grunts. He’s shifting, becoming more fidgety. 
Then you let your lips rest on the tip of his cockhead, before fitting the entirety of his cock into your mouth, feeling it fill up your mouth to the brim, your hands pushing Mingi’s hips down, taking note of how his abs are flexed. Mingi’s hand tangle in your hair, tugging against your scalp. You choke slightly, freezing in place for a second in case San hears you, before letting his cock rest at the back of your throat.
Mingi pulls the covers open slightly, his eyes are glazed out from the sensation of his cock in your fucking mouth, and the sight of you looking up at him all innocent and trying to keep his fat cock in your mouth without slobbering and evidently failing, only drives Mingi further off the edge. His fingers are tight around your scalp, pushing your head gently down his cock. He’s almost on the brink of just fucking bursting until San snaps his attention back.
“Oh, right, isn’t your girlfriend coming?” San asks, turning to look at his friend. “Also, why the hell is your face so red?”
Mingi’s eyes dart away, his face flushing even more, but he still tries to remain composed, even though the situation he is in nothing but. 
He’s barely able to formulate a coherent response, considering his mind is flooding with just wanting to fuck your face underneath the covers while you’re slowly going up and down his wet dick. 
“It’s pretty warm”, Mingi answers curtly, his mind completely in the gutter at this point, shutting his eyes uncontrollably when he feels his cock hit the back of your throat once more. Another soft fuck leaves his lips when he feels your lips kiss down his girth, kissing and sucking the base of his cock. 
“Riiight. Then I’ll make my leave. Sorry for barging in Min”, San adds, feeling that he was probably interrupting something, but he wasn’t sure what. His phone rings in his hands and he flashes Mingi a smile before he disappears past the door, shutting it close.
Mingi feels like he can finally breathe, pushing the covers off more so he can finally focus on you better. You don’t hesitate to bob your head more freely now, taking his cock in deeper and faster down your throat, and Mingi pulling against your scalp, groaning at the noises you make while you take him.
“Shit. That’s a good fucking girl. Your mouth is such a good fucking hole, babe”, Mingi groans, pushing your head down to take in more, making you choke slightly, but it only rouses you further to make him break. 
“You’re so fucking pretty with my cock down your throat like that”, he hums, stroking your hair back, before he sinks his fingers in once more to tug against your scalp, making you moan in response, then letting him just fuck your face seconds later. Strings of curses fill the air as Mingi uses your mouth to reach his high, completely drenched in the pleasure, all while still being able to remind you that your mouth is his favourite part of you to dump his cum in, and that he adores seeing your face stuffed full with his cock. 
“Cumming. So fucking good,” Mingi sighs, releasing his grip on your hair, “you gonna be a good girl and swallow it all?” It earns a desperate nod from you, despite the tears streaming down your cheeks and his precum and spit down your chin, because fuck it feels so fucking good to let your mouth be used like this by Mingi. 
With a low moan, Mingi’s cock twitches in your mouth, his viscous warm cum trickling down your throat, some leaking past the corner of your lips even as you try to keep it all in your mouth and down your throat. Mingi’s hands are in your hair once more, bucking his hips to get hit the back of your throat, his head pressed into the pillows, eyes shut in sheer pleasure from cumming down your throat.  
Mingi catches his breath as you pull away with a pop, dabbing the sides of your lips with the back of your hand. You’re shift to leave the bed, that is, until Mingi grabs your wrist and pulls you back to the bed, quickly trapping you underneath him. 
He hasn’t softened. 
He stares down at you with a smug expression, one that makes you swallow hard and your cunt pulse.
“Had your fun acting cute?” Mingi asks, narrowing his eyes at you. He presses his thumb at the corner of your lips and watches you hungrily as you take his thumb into your mouth, coating it in your spit, all while not breaking eye contact with you. Once he thinks it’s enough, he trails down agonisingly slow down south, feeling your goosebumps form in anticipation until his finger pauses right at your clit. 
Mingi continues, “teasing and sucking my cock while San was in the room, hm? Naughty girl.”
You try to formulate a sentence, but your mind is rendered useless the moment he presses his thumb on your clit, giving it slow, circular rubs. Your hand that grabs onto his wrist out of instinct doesn’t do anything to stop him.
“Couldn’t help it babe”, you reply breathlessly, mind growing hazier by the second the more Mingi massages your clit, squirming from time to time under him. “Needed your cock in my mouth so fucking badly.”
“Fuck. You’ll be the fucking death of me, Princess”, Mingi sighs, his gaze towering over you as your eyes roll back when Mingi lets the pleasure slowly build when your cunt progressively grows wetter with slick. 
“Mingi… please. Feels so good”, you whimper, pushing your hips against his thumb, desperate for more movement. Mingi is thinking of teasing you even more—he thinks you’re so fucking adorable when you’re on the verge of begging. But since you had been such a good girl for him, he thinks you should be rewarded.
Sparks start to splatter beneath your eyelids, your moans climbing up in pitch the more his thumb grazes against your clit. 
“I’m gonna cum-“, and your orgasm washes over you before you can finish speaking, forcing your eyes to screw shut while it shakes through your body, broken whines slipping past your lips, your cream and slick soaking Mingi’s fingers.
He pulls back, placing his soaked fingers to his lips and sucking them clean with a satisfied smile. Mingi swears he could never get tired of seeing you fall apart under his fingers. 
You pant, trying to regain your bearings as your high wears off, only to focus on Mingi pumping his length with his hand. He leans over once more, pushing your legs apart, almost folding you before he slides his thick cock into your hole, fitting in inch by inch, watching the way your pussy stretches to take him.  This time, it’s your turn to sing a slew of curses as Mingi fills you up from below.
“Such a good fucking pussy, fuck”, Mingi curses once he’s fully seated in you, watching the slight bulge pushing against your abdomen. 
“F-fuck. Mingi, you’re too big”, you squeal, feeling your pussy pulse pathetically against his girth, so fucking perfectly tight in you, his cockhead just pressing onto your spongy spot. 
Mingi combs his hair back, biting the inner of his cheeks when he feels you squeeze him. “I’m gonna move now, Princess”, which comes off more as a warning instead, mostly because when he does, you fucking feel everything in your pussy. Mingi goes slow first, letting you adjust to the pace and his size, but the more your cunt is just sucking him in, the more he’s about to blank out, and just make sure your pussy is sore by the end of the night. You barely have the chance to adjust, because Mingi is growing restless above you, and the more he hits your sensitive spots, the more you squeeze him.
“Keep on squeezing me like that Princess, and I won’t be able to hold back”, he cautions, and this time, it is a warning. You only bite your lip and scrunch your eyebrows in reply, the sounds of his hips slamming against your cunt on top of his cock fucking your pretty little pussy being almost enough to just send you over the edge. Mingi’s fingers reach out under your head and he tilts your chin to look at him. 
“That’s it. Such a pretty fucking face when I’m ruining your pussy. My perfect little Princess.”
A broken whimper escapes your lips—the way his eyes are just eating you up, making you feel so watched and almost like a prey beneath him while his cock is just hammering into your pussy—over and over again. He places his other hand on your lower abdomen and applies pressure, light, but enough to send stars bursting into your eyelids when you feel the fullness of him leaving and entering you.
“You’re so d-deep-“, you sniffle. You’re not sure how much more you can take.
Mingi only chuckles. 
“Maybe the next round, I should have you answer San’s call while I’m balls deep in you since you like being adventurous, hm?” 
Your face flushes at the notion of it. Mingi hisses when you clench around him once more. His thrusts are becoming more erratic, and he has his fingers are now around your throat, but he isn’t squeezing. 
“Shit. Are you gonna cum again, Princess?” Mingi asks, barely pulling out fully before his cock is slammed right into you again. He watches you give a pathetic nod, then groans when he feels your cunt flutter around him, pulling his orgasm, his cum filling you up to the brim before it slowly trickles down your abused hole. 
Your partner leans in to plant a kiss on your lips before he shakily pulls his cock out of you, wet and dripping with a loud sigh. 
As he guides you into the bathroom to shower together, you mutter, “I swear I’m gonna be sore for the next few days at least”, which makes Mingi pause in his tracks, and turn back to you. His fingers tilt your chin once more, making sure you have his attention, and then his thumb shifts to swipe your bottom lip. 
With a scoff, he reminds you, “wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t decide to be cheeky under the sheets, Princess.”
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notjustjavierpena · 9 months ago
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Swelter
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Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: This happened because the SAG Awards made me horny. I have no other explanation for my behavior, no other defence. Maybe that I was listening to ur dad by VIAL. Obviously also a huge thanks to @strang3lov3 for being the cutest love bug I know, and for putting up with my brainstorming sessions.
Summary: You have a crush on Sarah’s father. It is summer, it is hot, and you just want a cold drink.
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, best friend’s dad, significant age gap (reader is 19-22, Joel is in his mid-40s), SEXUAL TENSION, bee stings, groping, voyeur to some degree, f masturbation, dirty talk, an endless amount of pet names, sexy play with a soda can, praise kink, car sex, daddy kink, fingering, unprotected piv sex, joel’s cock is huge in this, creampie, premature ejaculation, pussy eating, come eating, squirting
Word count: 6.8k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54233479
Swelter
A warm Texas breeze blows through the open window of Sarah’s childhood room, making the see-through pink curtains move elegantly from side to side. It hits your back right underneath your halter neck as you lay on Sarah’s bed, caressing your bare skin and making you think of him. You wonder if his hands would have the same effect on you because you find yourself shivering but not from feeling cold. He is somewhere here, and his daughter doesn’t even know that her best friend obsesses about that fact.
Sarah hasn’t changed her room since she was a teenager. She told you this the first time she brought you here, which is almost a year ago today. You were here last summer too, thrilled to be invited to spend a few weeks of your summer with a friend from college and you and her have been inseparable ever since, even if you are so different from each other.
You have your face in a woman’s magazine, propped up on your elbows so you can suck on a popsicle stick whilst turning the pages. There’s a page with the recipe for ‘The Best Fudgy Chocolate Cake Ever!’ next to a page on how to lose weight, and it makes you snort.
“What?” Sarah turns on her chair, pausing the video on her computer.
“What kinda woman are you? You can choose one, but only one. Don’t get greedy now!” You make a scratchy voice but then pop your ice pop in your mouth to hold up the magazine for her to see.
“Seriously? We can’t win,” she groans dramatically, “Chocolate cake always. I just want to be happy, and that looks like a serotonin boost.”
Suddenly, the door opens without any warning. It’s him. Mr. Miller. You quickly remove the popsicle from your mouth, not about to show him how your lips are stretched around the sugary snack. The open door causes a draft to blow the smell of his cologne your way, and it is intoxicating beyond your imagination because you relish in it in secret.
“Dad,” Sarah says with exasperation, “I thought being an adult earned you the privilege of more privacy.”
“It’s gettin’ colder outside now,” he states and ignores her comment, hand resting on the doorknob, “The Adlers need Mercy to be walked, and the pavement’s coolin’ down.”
“I walked him when I was fourteen,” she furrows her brow and you suppress a snicker, “I’m twenty.”
“Just ‘cause you’re grown, don’t mean you can’t do right by ‘em,” he states matter-of-factly.
“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you say from your spot on the bed as Sarah fumes quietly, absentmindedly reaching to pull the short skirt of your dress down. He can probably see the start of your ass from how it has been riding up as you lay down on the sheets.
“Hiya darlin’,” he replies and you swear you can hear a restrained sound in his voice. He turns to Sarah again, “Get your butt off that chair.”
“Fine,” she follows through on her orders but still wants to argue, probably embarrassed at being ordered around by her father in front of her friend. She gestures to you, “And what about my guest?”
“She’s grown too, which means she can probably entertain herself the half hour you’ll be gone,” he dares wink at you, and blood courses through your veins.
“I’ll just get that assignment done while you’re out,” you reassure and try not to seem like your core is shaking.
“See?” Joel looks triumphant.
“You’d make a hell of a lawyer,” she deadpans at her father and walks past him.
When he closes the door and leaves you alone in the bedroom, you can feel your popsicle having melted, its syrupy water running down your fingers. You switch hands and suck the sticky fingers into your mouth. The action makes Mr. Miller’s image flash in your mind and you press your thighs together before getting up and finding your laptop.
You find that it’s near impossible to concentrate on proofreading your assignment in the tiny bedroom after just five minutes of being alone. It’s not that you can’t concentrate in the Summer heat but no matter what you do, your mind keeps circling back to Joel’s voice as he called you darling. It heats you more than the sun ever could, and with every tap on your keyboard, your mouth gets more and more dry.
Eventually, you push yourself to stand from your seat at the desk and make a decision to go fetch something to drink, and it is definitely not with the intention of accidentally bumping into Sarah’s father. Not even when you do not find Joel in the kitchen and decide to bypass it altogether to continue into the garage in hopes of being successful in your search for a drink (obviously).
This infatuation started last year. It took you about ten seconds - from walking into the kitchen and shaking Joel’s hand - to realize that Sarah was cursed with having him as a father. Firstly, he was outrageously handsome; always wearing washed-out t-shirts that clung to his shoulders, always smiling with teeth, sporting salt-and-pepper curls, and sometimes even shocking you by entering the kitchen with working gloves on. However, when he opened his mouth and spoke, a southern drawl dripped from his lips and made your whole body tense up. He was charming, respectful, and laughed at the right moments. Most importantly, he laughed at every damn attempt that you made at being funny, and while it was probably an attempt to be nice and make you feel at home, it spurred you on terribly to win him over at every opportunity.
Despite all that, those opportunities weren’t many. He was also cool enough to know that his daughter didn’t want him hanging around all the time, and so he spent many days either in the garden to mow the lawn in competition with the rest of the fathers down the street, in the garage to fix up some old truck, or with his brother, Tommy, and Tommy’s wife who always had some DIY-project going on.
Thus, the summer became one of tanning sessions in the garden, movies in Sarah’s room, stolen glances at Joel Miller whenever he came inside to quench his thirst after hard labor, and secret longing whenever he had kept away for too long.
One particular day last year, Sarah had failed to mention that her father would be home most of the last days you were in their house, and because he was always out, you were getting more and more comfortable with walking around in your towels post-showers or leaving the door unlocked when changing.
The particular event had happened in the morning when the house had been silent except for the kitchen where Sarah was preparing breakfast, using a large box of pancake mix and the whole fruit section of the local grocery store for topping. You had just showered, standing with your head in your suitcase to search for the last few pieces of clothing you had that were clean when there was a rap on the door and a pull of the handle not even a second later.
“Sarah, I need—“
You whipped around at the sound of a new voice entering the room. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest, feeling as though it was fighting its way out between your ribs as embarrassment began to flood your system. Even so, you stood too frozen to reach for something to cover yourself up.
Joel was in the doorway and dead silent, looking as if struck by lightning. Like earlier today, his hand had been resting on the doorknob and in the painfully short moment that the both of you were processing the situation, you saw that his grip tightened enough to whiten his knuckles.
And then it happened, the thing that had soaked you in forbidden desire and delicious excitement; his gaze had flickered down your body and taken you in for the briefest of seconds. His gaze had traveled from the hard peaks of your nipples to the shape of your hips and the softness of your young cunt.
“Fuck,” you heard him utter as he remembered himself and his self-awareness made you finally grab the top you were going to be wearing that day to cover up your quivering body. He slammed the door shut and spoke through it, “Christ, ’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
“It’s okay, Mr. Miller,” you promised but he was already gone. You immediately locked the door afterward to come so hard with two fingers on your clit that you had to hold onto the chair by the desk.
God, you want him to look at you like that again, want to tell him it is all for him. Now, as wrong as you know it is, you find yourself searching for an excuse to get him to ogle you and the chances are higher if he actually spends time with you.
“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you announce yourself as you enter the garage through the door in the kitchen. Joel has his head inside the hood of his truck, leaning over to inspect something that you wouldn’t understand anything about anyway. He grips the front side of the engine room to push himself to stand, closes the top of the hood of his truck, and turns around to face you.
“Hey kiddo,” he returns with a smile, “How many times do I gotta say to ya that it’s just Joel?”
“Alright, Mr. Miller,” you tease, “—I mean, Just Joel.”
You hear him laugh softly but you don’t dare look at him, afraid that you’ll spontaneously combust. He goes to the utility sink to wash his hands, saying nothing more and making you feel insane for coming apart in the silence.
“I’m just getting something to drink,” you explain when it becomes too much, “Sarah’s room is boiling hot.”
“That’s fine, take what you’d like,” he replies, and there’s a kind teasing in his voice. “But don’t touch the orange sodas. Those are mine.”
The concrete floor of the garage is cold on your bare feet as you pad across the floor where an old bottom-freezer refrigerator stands in the corner, humming in the otherwise quiet room. It has seen better days, and it seems like Sarah has tried to cheer up its weathered appearance by covering it in stickers and ugly magnets.
“Now I have to get one of those,” you giggle and pull the door open, scanning the contents and noticing that the sodas are on the bottom shelf. You hesitate for just a second, and then you choose to bend over instead of crouching down. Behind you, Joel Miller is completely silent.
In the beginning, it hadn’t been your intention to let the crush fester in your brain and turn it into something more but last week, during dinner out on the terrace, you had accidentally sat down on a bee and gotten stung on the back of your thigh. The cry you had let out had nearly made Joel tip over the table to get to you, his chair falling backward as he got up from his seat.
“Fuck! Ow ow ow!” You cried and hobbled around on the grass. The pain was unbearable but the shock only seemed to make it worse.
“Sarah, please get some ice and some antihistamines. There should be a bottle on my nightstand,” Joel ordered quickly and she rushed inside. He walked toward you, grabbing at your shoulders to ground you but his touch only heightened all other sensations. He dug his thumbs into you and your head swam, “Sweetheart, ‘tis just a bee, shh, calm down. I need to remove the stinger. Lemme see ya.”
“It really fucking hurts, Mr. Miller,” you said with a whine as he guided you to one of the loungers that Sarah and you had dragged out from the shed earlier that week.
“I know,” he finally let go of you so you could think just a bit more clearly, “Lemme take a look. Lie down on your front.”
You followed orders with the realization of how much you trusted his judgment, that he would treat you right, moving carefully because the flex of your thigh muscle was making the pain worse. The wooden lounger burned slightly against the front of your thighs, and you pressed your cheek into its slats while screwing your eyes shut.
The wood creaked behind you as he knelt on it with one knee and suddenly, his broad hand was perched on the top of your thigh in an attempt to keep your skin taut. You sucked in a breath but he only mistook it for more pain.
“It’s alright, sweetheart. I can see it,” his breath was slightly quicker but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, “He really got ya right on your inner thigh. Hold on.”
Your eyes shot open when his thumb ran towards the innermost part of the back of your thigh, a sort of panicked arousal spiking from your chest and thighs. He paused for a second then murmured something, a swear word that you tried to take as frustration. There was a beat but then he cleared his throat, “Can you bend your leg a little? I wanna make sure that I get it on the first try.”
“How?” You asked stupidly. The image of how he would be looming over your backside made your heartbeat go down between your legs, “My dress’ll ride up.”
“Just bend the knee a little, pull it towards your chest,” he explained and cleared his throat once more, “On my life, I won’t look.”
So you did as he told you, and sure enough, your dress betrayed you by crawling slowly up to sit around your hip instead of the middle part of your thigh. You looked back at him when he started picking at the stinger with his nails, and you hoped that he would not notice your gawking at his concentrated expression.
A flash of the day he had barged in on you naked flashed in your mind because his eyes were so focused on not staring at you that you nearly whimpered when you saw his eyes flicker to the spot of dampness between your legs for no more than a second.
You had worn white cotton panties that day so they would not be seen through your dress. They were straining against your pussy in this position and all he had to do was reach out, and he’d find your clit poking against the fabric from how excited you were feeling.
He had had the perfect outline of your cunt, and it’s the same now as you bend over to get to the very bottom of the fridge, reaching for a cold drink that just happens to be his favorite. You know that he can see everything, and the worst is that you know he already has. Twice. The mere thought is so dirty that your heart starts pounding in your chest and sends heat through your already hot body, so you hurry to stretch to your full height again.
With a cocky grin that is mostly put on to hide your anxious excitement about what you have just done, you turn to face Joel and walk to stand in front of him and his car. His cologne fills your nostrils again, and the scent seems once again to have a direct line to your cunt because you have never felt more empty. In front of you, Joel’s jaw is clenched but other than that, he seems a lot more calm and composed than you.
That is until you jump onto the hood of the car and scoot back, letting your bare feet dangle out over the edge. You crack open the soda in your hand and take a sip that is a little longer than intended. The satisfying burn of the fizz grounds you in the warm climate, but it is even more heavenly as you tuck the skirt of your dress between your thighs so you can place the cold can there.
Joel shakes his head with a sigh but you know he is playing a game as much as you because he cannot help but crack a smile back at you, “You’re trouble, I knew it the second Sarah brought ya into my house.”
“Oh, whatever will I do?” You ask dramatically and lean back against the windshield.
“Go morally bankrupt?” He raises a brow. If only he knew what is going through your mind. You catch him looking at you in the fashion that you have craved when you sigh deeply and cause your chest to push out.
“Only that?” You take another sip and some of the contents spill down your chin in a thick, sticky trail due to the angle you’re sitting in. You reach up to wipe it away with your index finger and then dare to suck your finger clean with the intention of mimicking the way that you had licked it clean earlier when it had been coated in melted popsicle.
“Give it here,” he says. You lock eyes with him. However, your eyes widen slightly when he nods at the can and takes it from between your thighs. There’s electricity shooting through your nerves the second his fingers touch the fabric of your dress but they intensify to a dizzying degree when he takes a sip of the soda too.
Like a reflex, the sight of him drinking from the can that’s been nestled between your thighs makes your legs fall out to the sides. You’re worse than an obedient dog in your horniness, reacting the same way to the way he moves as it would to the sound of a bell ringing.
Your dress rides up slowly along your thighs, revealing your sweaty skin that feels sticky by now and Joel clears his throat after briefly looking down. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and when you realize the effect it has on the poor man, you grab the hem and pull upwards, “It’s so hot outside today. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to the heat here in Texas.”
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says and his face has got a pinker tint, pulse visible on the side of his neck. With his free hand, he grabs one of your knees and starts nudging your legs together again. He yanks your skirt down, “I know I’m always teasin’ ya but you can’t be doing this.”
“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you say with exasperation and move your legs out again, “It’s just very hot… and it’s not like you haven’t had a peek.”
“Hey now,” he leans forward to place the can of soda on the roof of the truck, “That ain’t a fair accusation.”
“I’m not accusing you of anything,” you reply, chewing on your bottom lip, “But you’re not denying it.”
“Don’t tryna make me look like the pervert here,” he scolds, taking a step towards you and causing your stomach to do somersaults, “I noticed the way you went real quiet when my hands were on you.”
“What do you mean?” You furrow your brows in confusion, “Your hands were never on m–”
“Did that bee sting really hurt that much?” He clarifies. Oh, you think whilst he smirks with triumph. Something has switched in the air surrounding you, the atmosphere has become more daring, “Yeah, I saw her; your pussy wet f’me.”
It’s true. If you think about it too much, you can still feel your heartbeat in the places where he touched you, and the pulse is rapid and overwhelming. You can’t imagine what it'll be like if he touches you underneath your dress, even if it’s simply on the outside of your panties. The thought has your underwear starting to dampen, the fabric starting to stick to you, and make you painfully aware of the wetness between your legs.
“Did ya touch yourself after?” His eyes have darkened slightly. His pupils are dilating with desire for your answer, and you nod hesitantly, overwhelmed by the need to tell him everything.
“During my shower that you told me to take,” you confess and hear him make a sound low in his throat at the mental image, “I couldn’t stop myself— I wanted you so badly. The thought of you inside me...”
This is a crossroad, you realize, you’ve said your deepest secret of depravity. On one hand, you can bolt out the door or you can make a move to show him what you really came down here for. The latter is risky but Joel is so goddamn decent that you know that if he doesn’t want this - which you doubt is the case at this point - he’ll gently reject you and never mention it again if it means that his daughter will continue having a best friend.
However, as your mind races with scenarios of what could or could not happen in this moment, Joel pulls you back into reality as his hand, cold from gripping the can, rests on your knee again but this time, it doesn’t try to make you decent like before. Instead, it slides up under your skirt in such a slow motion that you find yourself holding your breath.
“Is this what’ll quiet down that mind of yours?” He asks in a low voice, eyes flickering from your face to down between your legs and back again, “If I take a peek more to get it outta our system?”
“What are you doing?” You ask as if you do not know. It’s your turn to be scandalized by bluntness, and you find yourself gripping his arm but not hard enough to signal that you do not want him to continue. You hope that he realizes that this is not you rejecting his advances.
“I ain’t doing nothin’ that you haven’t already silently begged me to do. Perhaps sometimes - and God help me, I will probably regret it - you just needa follow your instincts when a pretty girl like you has been sendin’ me heart eyes all week,” he almost sounds annoyed with you, and to stop yourself from being scolded, your hand loosens its grip on him until you remove it altogether. He smiles, “Good girl.”
“You shouldn’t—“ you feel a rush of blood to your head, adrenaline kicking in as your thoughts circle around the repercussions that this can bring. In all honesty, you had only walked in here to have Joel’s eyes on you but now, you are getting more than you bargained for and it is making you so turned on that your mind is clear and foggy at the same time. Boldly, you sit up on the car’s hood so you can reach for the buckle of Joel’s belt, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“You’re damn right we shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he agrees immediately but doesn’t stop. His warm and rough palms skim further up your thighs until they settle by your hips, his thumbs teasing the elastic band of your panties. He starts to drag them down, the fabric nearly snapping in two when you barely register that you have to lift your ass to help him.
His fingers unintentionally caress your calves as he slides the underwear down to eventually pull them off your ankles and feet. The sensation makes your body wake up even more, a gush of wetness smearing your inner thighs and you know that you have to pull your dress up soon if you don’t want it stained.
In front of you, Joel reads your mind. He shoves the hem of your dress up as far as he can without a word with desperation in his trembling hands, and you move to let him bunch it up around your waist so he has a full view of what waits - and for long has waited - for him.
When your cunt is revealed to him, he groans like he is in pain at the sight of the slick shining on your soft youthful skin. You can see how hard he is in his jeans, cock straining against the zipper at the front of them.
He looks like he wants to touch but hesitates. The first sign of his inner conflict. You remember that he did say just a peek as if there’s an unspoken agreement that he is not to cross the line of touching what he shouldn’t want to have. It would definitely be a nuclear decision if he chooses to do it anyway. It makes you want it even more, and another gush spills from your glistening slit when you clench from excitement.
Joel swears under his breath, something that sounds like fuck it and it sets it in stone; he is going to ruin you for eternity right here on his car. He steps closer until your spread knees bump into his sides, and without saying anything you move to yank his jeans and briefs down, settling them around his hips with a soft gasp as you take in the sight of his fully hard cock. He is huge. So huge that your mouth starts salivating like you’ve already been fucked stupid and your walls try to clamp down on nothing. It’ll hurt. You want it to if it means that you won’t doubt if it ever happened tomorrow.
“Tell me you want this too,” he seeks your reassurance.
“So fucking badly, Mr. Miller— Joel,” you say without any hint of second-guessing in your voice. You scoot further forward on the car and lean back so he has better access, trying your best to be elegant in your messy state, “Please, want you in me.”
“Jeez, honey,” his breath shakes, “Already so eager. I haven’t even felt if she’s ready f’me.”
With one hand gripping your left thigh, he uses two fingers on his right hand to slide through your wet folds and you don’t think you have ever been this turned on for anyone; when he flips his palm upwards and shoves two fingers inside of you, you feel more arousal drip from your cunt and pool in his hand. The longing you have felt since you saw him for the first time finds somewhere to empty all its desire and desperation into, and you whine like you’re in a state of agony.
“Shhh…” he soothes and curls his digits inside of you until you think you might start crying, squelching cunt trying to pull him further into you as he fingers you lazily. Your gaze drops to how his cock twitches whilst standing in the air, “You’re grippin’ me so good, doll, can’t wait to fuck this pussy. Don’t cry like that. Be patient.”
“Please, I’m so—“ your palms are flat on the hood of the car, your mouth hangs open in ecstasy and you stare down at where his ring- and middle finger disappears repeatedly into you, “It’s yours, please.”
“I know it’s mine, don’t gotta say it, I know,” he coos at each of your whimpers, gets you worked up until you are just on the brink of coming, and then he moves quickly. He pulls his fingers out of you, smears his cock with what you’ve soaked his whole palm with, and leans over your gasping frame to nudge at your quivering hole.
When he finally enters you, the both of you gasp in unison. He struggles with it for a moment, rubbing the skin just below your belly button to make you relax because he is so much bigger than you had first anticipated, and such a tight fit that you think he might split you in two.
“Goddamn, you are tight,” he says through gritted teeth, “Feels fuckin’ amazin’.”
“Ah,” you feel like letting yourself turn into a drooling mess already, pulsating around him from the way your body struggles to take him, “Joel, I can’t.”
“Yes, you can, honey,” he encourages, showing no signs of pulling out of you to free you from the burn of his girth. He growls low in his throat as you struggle with it, and you know it’s because your walls are clenching around him as you involuntarily move, “Stay still, let her get used to it.”
“It hurts,” you whine, sliding slightly on the metal underneath your ass. He presses his hips forward even further and causes you to whimper but in doing so, he holds you firmly in place by using his strong frame.
“I know but ya just gotta relax,” he goes on. He places one hand flat on the hood of the car and then places the other right on your hip, thumb going inwards to find your clit. It pulses under his finger, trying to find out whether to find the pain delicious or not.
When his thumb starts going in circles on you, your thigh muscles start to twitch and flex from burning desire instead of uncomfortable pain. He presses down a little to stroke your sensitive nub with even more determination and smiles at his success when a moan slips from your mouth, “That’s it, honey. Just enjoy this until you’re creamin’ on me, and then I can fuck her real good.”
Your walls start to flutter a few seconds after the first new round of pleasurable sounds leave you, and the more his finger moves on you, the easier it gets to take him because the pain turns into nothing more than a dull ache in the background of ecstasy. He has you breathing faster and faster, and in return, he starts moving his thumb up and down to make his touches more direct.
God, your clit is hardening underneath his torment. He stares at what he is doing, an occasional grunt leaving him from how you involuntarily squeeze his length, and you know that he can sense it, suddenly smirking to himself as you near your climax. He admires the sight of you, eyes glued to the way the hood of your clit has drawn back, “Babydoll, look at that. Such a pretty pussy, clit peekin’ out and all. Does she wanna come on my cock?”
“Please, yes, oh please,” you nod repeatedly, mouth hanging open in an o-shape and breaths coming out in small puffs. Your climax is within reach, and Joel looks concentrated as he more than willingly hands it over to you whilst buried deep inside of you. The concentration on his face is probably from keeping himself from spilling inside of you too soon, but God, he looks gorgeous as he determinedly strokes your cunt.
“Yes, yes, yesyesyes— oh God, I’m… fuck, I’m coming!” You shake with pleasure as he causes your pussy to spasm, your hands barely able to find out what to do and making you grab at both the metal underneath you with one hand and his wrist with the other. Your eyes are squeezed shut but you do not doubt that he is staring at you in awe as you come so hard that reality fades.
“Good girl,” he rasps, voice unsteady and hand hitting the hood of the car as the feeling becomes overwhelming, “Oh sweetheart, you’re choking my dick so g—“
He swears quietly and then loudly, and suddenly, his cool demeanor crumbles because he is spilling his load inside of you with a pathetic and strained grunt. His hips stutter slightly and warmth spreads slowly inside of you, mixing with your own arousal.
You look down to where the two of you are connected, feeling fucked out despite not even having had the chance to feel him move inside of you. His come has started to spill from you already, dripping obscenely from your cunt.
“Fuck,” you hear Joel say above you. He slips out of you and leaves you gaping and mewling for a second, starting to take a step back. You catch him with your legs before he is too far away, and he reluctantly steps close to you again. He looks embarrassed but gives you a smile to hide it, “Felt too good, honey. This pussy’s makin’ me all sweet on you.”
“I’m that irresistible?” You grin in your post-orgasmic haze, not really giving a crap about the lack of a proper fuck from how much dopamine is coursing through your veins.
Joel takes hold of your thighs as they are wrapped around your body and lifts them off of himself, “You’re makin’ an old bastard like me weak in the knees, so maybe. Hah! Comin’ too soon like a goddamn teenager.”
“I liked it,” you admit without hesitation, still basking in the sweet afterglow, “Made me feel sexy and powerful.”
He scoffs but can’t fight the smile on his face, “Now now, don’t get cocky on me. Crawl back a little, spread ya legs f’me.”
You giggle and do as you are told, presenting yourself to him on the hood of his car. You plant your bare feet on the metal, lay back against the windshield, and smile.
“Now look at that,” he tuts as he admires his work; white ropes of come dripping down from your slit and onto the surface beneath you. He lays both hands flat on the car and leans forward, and before you know it, his mouth is covering your whole cunt and he eats from you like he’s paid to do it.
“Jesus,” you groan, throwing your head back and grabbing onto the roof of the car with one hand whilst the other finds Joel’s hair. You tug and he moans against you, sending vibrations through your whole lower body and beginning the first stirrings of another high. You don’t think that you can take it, squirming just like you had done moments earlier.
Joel makes a sound of disapproval. He scoops his arms under your thighs until he can lay his hands on top of them, holding you tightly against his mouth and causing you to cry towards the ceiling when he makes your second orgasm approach so quickly that nothing in your brain makes sense except what he is doing between your legs.
The hand on the roof of his car goes to his head too. You slide your fingers on both hands through his hair until they lay at the back of his neck, and then you yank once more at the curls there. His tongue works at your clit, swiping back and forth over it until you think that you might see God.
However, it doesn’t stay there. Instead, it is replaced by his nose so that he can eat his own spill straight from you by dipping his tongue hungrily inside of you.
“Joel— holy fuck, you’re incredible,” you close your eyes to concentrate on your pleasure. Who knew that the man could fuck with his tongue? He is warm and wet inside of you, slurping pornographically until you are clean of any remains of his come.
You are just about to finish a second time when he halts whatever he is doing. He pulls back only a few inches so you can still feel his uneven breaths against your cunt.
“No! Please,” your eyes fly open, you cry desperately, and throw your head forward dramatically. You want to thrash but he still has your legs locked in his arms, so you decide to pull out the big guns and hope for the best, “Please, Daddy! Pleasepleaseplea—“
“What the fuck did you just say t’me?” He looks up at you but you are too busy screwing your eyes shut in agony whilst whining for more. He growls and releases one of your legs, “I was already gonna make you a happy young lady but now, I’m gonna make you come so hard your little brain goes dumb. See how it feels. Impatient girl.”
His hand goes between your legs. He turns his palm upwards and then shoves two thick fingers inside of your pussy like earlier, curling them slightly and then pumping them so quickly that blood starts speeding through your system a second after and your heart rate goes so fast that you know that you are just about to come.
“Joel, oh my— fuck!” You whimper.
“Wrong word,” he replies.
You correct yourself immediately because there’s no way he is stopping again to chastise you once more, “Daddy, oh I— mhmm, I’m gonna come for you. Don’t stop, please, please Daddy, pleasepleaseplea—!”
He responds just how you had liked: He closes his mouth around your swollen clit and sucks hard, finally severing all connection to your brain and you come so hard that you actually squeal. Joel groans against you, feeling you squeeze the digits he has buried deep inside you. He draws back his fingers, pressing upwards the whole way.
Clear liquid squirts from you the second he pulls them out. The gushes that follow are so intense that the leg he isn’t holding anymore shakes so violently that the metal rattles under you, the car staining with your come. He repeats the move again and again, over and over, and watches the steady trickle down the hood and onto the concrete floor that turns a dark gray.
Euphoria courses through your being as you come in a way that you have never felt before. Your limbs tingle as warmth spreads out from beneath your belly button, your cunt pulses with eager pleasure, and you sob through the waves that crash over you without giving you time to recover from the last. The whole room feels brighter and its colors more vibrant.
“Shh, baby, let it happen, feels so good, don’t it? That’s it,” Joel coos at you the whole way through, guides you through it when you barely know how to use your words. He has straightened to his full height again but you don’t know when, and he has slowed his fingers down to tease out a few aftershocks. You whimper feebly at each one, and when Joel seems satisfied with what he has drawn out of you, he covers your whole mound with his palm to soothe the feeling of overstimulation that settles.
“Soundproof,” he mutters, once again reading your mind when you come to your senses again and start thinking about your noise levels with furrowed brows and eyes flitting from him to the garage door. Your heartbeat has started to slow again, and the relief of knowing no one has been able to hear you makes you slump against the windshield and breathe deeply.
The remnants of your orgasm have made you smile, your body slipping into a deep state of satisfaction when the anxieties have been dispelled. Joel moves his hand up your lower body until it settles between your breasts, still covered by your dress. He caresses your heaving chest, looking at you boyishly for the first time, “You good? Didn’t cause any brain damage, did I?”
“You think this truck has ever seen action like that before?” You joke breathlessly.
“Probably ain’t the first time I disappointed a gorgeous lady in its presence,” he says with an apologetic smile, “Sorry ‘bout that.”
“Disappointed? You’re insane,” you stretch your arms above your head to get some of the last bits of euphoria out of your body, trying to ignore the way he has just called you a gorgeous lady. He probably means nothing by it. As your stretch peaks, you moan gently, “I came two times. Hard. I’m not complaining.”
“Just saying that I woulda liked to do it… properly, I guess,” he talks as he stuffs himself back into his underwear and pants, most likely trying to feel the least uncomfortable about mentioning his overexcitement. Automatically, he steps back when you jump off the car to adjust your dress.
“This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing,” you try to act casual as you say it but there’s no way you are accepting the best sex of your life to be a thing you will never have again, reducing it to a movie merely playing behind your eyelids as a cruel reminder of what is unattainable.
“And when would we have time for that?” He asks, zipping up his jeans. He wipes his hands on them, “We can’t, honey.”
“We just did,” you mumble, picking up your underwear from the floor. You turn the panties in your hands, just about to bend down to put them on before deciding against it. Boldly, you stand in front of him and stuff your sticky underwear into his front pocket; closest to his crotch. There are extra pairs in your bag in Sarah’s room. He can have these.
He looks down briefly and then finds your eyes. His jaw clenches as he weighs his words, “When?”
“Aren’t you driving me to the airport on Sunday?” You smile and kiss his cheek, and then you leave him, your soda in hand and a mess on the floor.
.
.
If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️
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dollniu · 2 months ago
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late nite spicy headcanons 🌃💋 — JJK MEN
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SYNOPSIS — short NSFW headcanons for ur pleasure 🎀
PAIRINGS — sukuna x f!reader, gojo x f!reader, nanami x f!reader, toji x f!reader, ino x f!reader, choso x f!reader, higuruma x f!reader
CONTENT — degradation, praise, blood play, oral, throat fucking, fingering, orgasm control, begging, masochism, sadism, raw (no protection, no lube), hickeys/marks, cyber sex, etc!
A/N — MDNI 🔞, if u have any characters you want headcanons of, lmk ! ����
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SUKUNA — “you’re my pathetic little play thing, doll.”
- there’s nothing sukuna loves more than seeing you at his feet, begging to be fucked, touched anything. and neglecting your desires only makes him crave you more
- he is absolutely cruel during sex, only using you as practically a sex toy and making you cum over and over again
- sukuna is loves torturing you, making you cry from overstimulation while he’s fucking you while you beg him to stop but he knows damn well that you want to be screaming his name alllll night
- he def has 2 dicks and he uses that shit to his advantage, double penetration EVERY. TIME.
- he bites. hard. like till you’re bleeding and he’s licking up that sweet crimson blood, savoring the taste of you
- sukuna calls you disgusting names, making you feel practically worthless and only living as his personal sex toy!
GOJO — “yeah? you want me to keep going? too bad, sweetheart.”
- gojo is the biggest tease you’ll ever meet, especially in bed. he’ll edge you for what feels like hours just to see you begging on your knees to cum
- he has a collection of sex toys he uses on you, a box sits besides the bed you share full of various dildos, vibrators, rose toys, you name it!
- whenever he has a bad day, you can tell just by the way he barges into your room and rips your clothes off. he doesn’t spare a second before he’s already inside you, fucking the absolute living shit out of you bc gojo likes it rough.
- he loves being overstimulated! whether it’s you bouncing on his dick, giving him the most toe-curling blow kob imaginable, or hand jobs that follow with him moaning your name, he fucking loves the dizziness and utter ecstasy of it
- there’s nothing gojo loves more than shower sex, or even bath sex! fucking you against the marble shower wall with the hot steam making it hard to breathe, he’s not stopping till he’s finished with you 🙏
- eye contact. whenever he stares down at you while he’s mercilessly fucking you and gazing at the mess he’s made upon him, it drives him absolutely crazy. he even forces you to look at him, grabbing your face while whispering in your ear “you’re mine.”
NANAMI — “i’ll be gentle at first, but i dont think i can control myself when you’re looking at me like that..”
- nanami has a breeding kink. cumming inside you and thrusting further into you just to see his cum spilling out of you is one of the best pleasures in life !
- hes very gentle and never wants to hurt you, but if you tell him to be rough.. oh he’s rough. like breaking the bed and making you cum five times consecutively kinda rough
- usually, he’s in his office working all day and usually night. so seeing an explicit photo of you with your tits out on deck will 100% make him call off of work just to go home and fuck the shit out of you
- he loves fucking you with your back on his office desk, looking down at you while he’s pounding you, seeing your eyes roll back from pleasure, it only makes him fuck you even harder 💋
- seeing you wearing nothing but his dress shirt sends him into an actual frenzy, something about you wearing his clothes never fails to make him hard. (usually leading to him eating you out from underneath the shirt 🤭)
TOJI — “such a filthy whore, taking my dick so good, huh?”
- toji is the KING of raw sex. like he refuses to wear a condom because the feeling of your pussy perfectly wrapped around his huge dick is fucking heavenly
- he lovesss throat fucking, ur head is basically the same size as his dick and he knows damn well you can’t take all of him but he makes it work 🫣
- hair pulling, this man will be fucking you from the back and pull at your hair to force you to look at him. “such a pretty little slut, you like it when i fuck you?”
- he will fuck you wherever whenever, if you’re in the kitchen? he’s fucking you on the kitchen counter. in the shower? he’s fucking you against the shower marble walls. in bed? he’s breaking the bed.
- he will leave hickeys and bite marks ALL OVER YOU. especially on your neck because he wants to make sure everyone knows that he’s yours and yours only. plus he knows all your sweet spots and the exact places that make you arch your back.
- loves getting his hair played while he’s eating pussy fr, he doesnt admit it cuz he says it’s embarrassing but he def gets a hard on from it
INO — “are you close? i’m close too..”
- ino is a switch, there’s no doubt about that. sometimes, he loves how overstimulated he gets when you’re giving him a blow job or a handy, basically begging you to let him cum. or he’s pounding you like it’s so tomorrow, making you cum over and over again.
- he’s very auditory, he becomes a complete babbling mess when he’s having sex with you which always results in low whimpers and moaning your name. yes, he is a loud in bed guys.
- he’s super experimental, he’s tried basically everything with you and wants to try more! he surprisingly liked getting fingered which he’s too embarrassed to admit but still begs for it in the end
- ino likes being called a good boy 😵‍💫
- he likes betting whos gonna cum first, which usually results in the nastiest roughest sex of edging and begging to cum and loud moans and pleads, his favorite of course
- he always makes you laugh during sex, like this man will put on a whole show because we all know his dramatic ass will not keep his mouth shut 😭
CHOSO — “please.. keep going— don’t stop please!”
- choso will do absolutely anything to make you feel good, he CUMS just from eating you out and hearing your sweet moans 💋 doing literally anything to make you scream his name is enough to make him die happy
- he’s a crier, like on his knees begging for you to let him cum with wet tears flowing from his eyes from overstimulation. he absolutely loves it when you neglect him of his wishes no matter how torturous it is
- he LOVES lacey clothing, whether it’s lacey bra and underwear sets, lacey sleeping dresses, he won’t be able to contain himself and fuck you right there on the spot
- orgasm control, one of his most loved (and hated) things in bed. whether it’s you or him, he loves it when you stop just before he’s gonna cum just for you to ride him faster and rougher 🤭 and if you’ve been a good girl, he might just let you cum too 🎀
- he can fuck you over and over again till your sopping, pathetic, overstimulated mess. like at least 10 rounds because he can’t get enough of youu
HIGURUMA — “you’re so good for me.. let me let you feel good too, hun.”
- we love our big nosed king, and as we all know what doja cat said— we riding his mf nose 😫 he loves it when you sit on his face with your thighs wrapped around his head, hearing the loud moans come out from you when he teases your clit with the tip of his tongue, absolutely glorious
- he WILL call you a good girl and shower you in praise and soft kisses, this doesn’t mean he won’t fuck you like a whore though!
- when he’s away at work, he’s usually gone all day all night— sometimes not coming home at all :(( because of this, having cyber sex practically every night has been beneficial because higuruma can’t stand not seeing you completely naked for a single day. jerking off on call together, seeing each other pleasure yourselves while dirty talking.. he can’t get enough of it.
- bath tub sex (without his suit on this time) is just what our hard-working lawyer needs after a long day. riding his dick in the hot steaming water.. he can’t get enough of how good you feel wrapped around his dick like that
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rafeandonlyrafe · 8 months ago
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angel of a daughter
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words: 2.2k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, stepcest, stepdad!rafe, p in v sex, unprotected sex, virgin!reader, female receiving oral, fingering, breeding, fertility issues (from mother), reader is described as having big boobs, kinda pregnancy kink from rafe but more talk of sex while pregnant, cheating (no daddy kink)
“i got the results back.” your mom says, her voice low and sad, revealing her results with her tone alone. “the doctor says theres no way.” “i’m sorry, mama.” you pout, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. you hate that you feel a bit of relief. your mom had you young, a teenager knocked up by another teenager who ran off the second he heard his girlfriend got pregnant.
your mom raised you until you were a teenager yourself, doing everything by herself until your stepdad came into the picture. he inserted himself perfectly into your life, but expected to have kids of his own.
“whats the plan then?” you question as your stepdad comes into the living room, setting a glass of water down in front of your mom. you sit on either side of her, showing your support. “adoption? surrogate?” 
you like being an only child. you like it just being you, mom, and rafe, but at the same time, you want your mom to be happy, and if a baby gives her that, you'll adjust for her.
“actually…” rafe clears his throat. “we were hoping you’d be willing to help out.”
“yeah, of course.” you nod. “anyway i can.” 
you don’t realize what rafe means until later. you assumed it was just help researching adoption agencies, or finding a surrogate, but as rafe hovers over you, you realize he means to breed you.
“m-my mom can’t be okay with this.” you stutter out, body stiff against the bed, trapped as you blink up at rafe, body caging you over the mattress.
“she thinks you’re going to get inseminated.” he huffs out, breath warm against your face. “and in a way you are. a natural way.”
“i-i-” you stutter out. “i don't know about this.”
“come on, i see the way you look at me.” rafe shifts his weight to one hand, gliding down the other down your torso, squeezing your hip gently. “i know you want this.”
“you're married to my mom!” your eyes are wide, but a spark does ignite inside of you. “you're my stepdad!”
“and you��re going to be doing both of us such a big favor, pretty girl.” rafe coos, his fingers running along the material of your shorts, stroking closer and closer to your center every time.
“i-i guess it would be easier than going to a doctor.” you’re sure it involves waivers and legal shit that your mind just can’t even wrap around.
“exactly!” rafe smiles down at you, glad for your naivety. “besides, im making you feel good... you’ll get pregnant, and both of us will feel real good.”
“how many times will we get to do it?” you whisper, hands reaching up to touch rafes cheeks, running your finger down the smooth planes. “like, it probably won’t take the first time.”
“as many times as we have to babygirl. and i’ll take real good care of you during your pregnancy. rub your feet, buy whatever you are craving, eat you out.” rafe loves the way your eyes blow wide.
“thats not appropriate!” your mom has lectured you long and hard about sexual experiences and above all how important it is to wait so you don’t become pregnant young like she did. and now she is asking you to allow your stepdad to breed you when you’re freshly out of your teen years.
“its okay, its just you helping us out so im helping you back out in return.” rafe moves his hand up to cup your cheek. “let me show you.”
he leans down to press your lips together in a kiss. you lay frozen for a moment before beginning to move back, reciprocating the kiss as your hands fist into his shirt, tugging him lower.
you let out a moan into his mouth and rafe has to pull away to chuckle. “see, i knew you wanted me babygirl.”
“yeah.” you nod. “okay, lets do this.” damn the consequences, you can think about them later.
“good.” he coos out, lips back against yours quickly as his hand gropes at your breast, rubbing them through your tanktop. you’ve always been insecure about the size of your chest, but as rafe lowers down to look at them, you think about them in a whole new light.
“these are gonna feed our baby so well.” he says, tugging at the hem of your shirt, lower and lower until it breeches the swell of your breasts and they pop out the top. you don’t ask who he means by ‘our’. you can indulge in the fantasy that it’s just you and rafe. that your mom is still in the picture, but only in the role as your mother, not the one of rafes baby. 
rafe wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking deeply into his mouth, so in contrast to what it must feel like to have an infant feeding.
“i-more.” you gasp out as rafes fingers play with your other nipple, rolling and pinching at it until they’re both stiff peaks.
“i can’t wait to fuck you baby.” rafe says, helping you sit up just slightly to pull your shirt off, the small pajama shorts the only barrier you have left on your body. rafe also tugs his shirt off. you’ve seen him shirtless before in the pool or on your boat, but its different in this low lighting, so intimate and close. 
“gonna eat your pretty pussy first though.” rafe tugs your shorts down, your thighs pressing together to allow you to keep that part of yourself hidden for a moment longer, before rafe is pushing at your legs and slotting himself onto the bed in between them.
“aww.” rafe smiles, looking much more like a boy your age with his grin rather than your stepfather. “i knew she’d be cute.” his hands stroke over your inner thighs. “have you ever had a guy eat your pussy before?”
“no.” you shake your head. “never done anything with a guy.” you’ve kissed past boyfriends, but it never went beyond that.
“im gonna be your first?” theres a spark in rafes eye when he realizes that you’re a virgin. that he’s going to deflower you, fill you up. 
“y-yeah.” you nod. 
rafe wants you to cum once with his mouth and fingers first to open you up and get you wetter before he fucks you, so he wastes no more time, pushing his face forward between your legs, tongue swiping over your folds as you scream out in pleasure. 
rafe is glad as your moans increase with every flick of his tongue and glide of his lips that he chose to sneak into your room in a time when your mom was gone, off to the spa with her girlfriends, no doubt sharing to them her recent doctors trip and how her angel of a daughter agreed to be a surrogate so her and rafe could have a baby of their own.
“you taste so good.” rafe says. he isn’t one to enjoy giving head often, but you really are the sweetest taste on his lips. he focuses in on your clit as your entire body stiffens before relaxing, sighing out as your head becomes fuzzier and fuzzier with every touch of rafes mouth.
“do you touch yourself here?” rafe asks, pressing kisses to your clit, making out with it just like he did you mouth.
“no.” you shake your head. you occasionally grinded yourself into a pillow stuffed between your legs to get off when you got too overwhelmed, but you never reached your hand in your pants to feel yourself.
“what about here?” rafe brings his hand to your cunt, finger circling around your entrance.
your eyes widen again, that gloriously innocent startled look that has rafe grinding into the bed to give his cock some sort of relief.
“never!” you shake your head.
rafe just smiles, going back to focusing on your clit as his finger pushes in. you’re so wet it’s not difficult at all, but he can feel the way you squeeze around his digit, getting used to the feeling of the intrusion.
“relax for me, princess.” rafe says, sucking at your clit as he begins to move his finger in and out until he’s able to easily pump, the delicious squelching of your wetness filling the room with his every movement.
“gonna add a second, okay?” rafe talks you through the process, not wanting to do something to scare you into changing your mind. “gotta open you up for my cock, baby.”
rafe pushes a second finger into your entrance, working you open until he feels your body stiffen, his concentration going to your clit as he works you through your orgasm, your high so suddenly breeching that your body locks up and you let out a scream.
“shh, i got you.” rafe kisses along your mound as you work through it, pussy clenching around his fingers as he scissors them, knowing he needs you looser to fit inside.
“that-” you gasp out, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “that was so good.” “yeah?” rafe smiles up at you. “i can keep helping you feel that way, baby.”
“mhm.” you nod, not sure how you’ll ever go without now that you’ve felt the high that rafe can get you.
“can i fuck you now?” he questions. as much as he’s ready to go right now, if he has to build you up to allow him inside bare, he would wait.
“yeah.” your voice is dripping with eagerness. “yeah, yes please. just need a drink of water first.”
you sit up slightly, going to reach for your water bottle on your bedside table, but rafe moves quicker, helping you bring the bottle to your lips and suck the water down, pulling away with a gasp as a drop of water glides down your chin, reaching your throat before rafes tongue is on your skin, tasting the sheen of sweat as he follows the wet trail up to your lips, kissing you to keep your mind occupied.
he works his pants and underwear off while you’re wrapped up in the kiss, your hands stroking through his hair, playing with the strands. 
rafe moves your legs to wrap around his hips as he holds onto his cock, swiping it through your folds. he taps the head against your sensitive swollen clit, making you pull away with a gasp.
“stay nice and relaxed for me, baby.” rafe says, pressing kisses to your jaw as he lines up with your entrance. he pushes in slowly, your eyes clenching shut as your chest moves up and down with each breath, trying to keep your body relaxed like rafe said.
“there ya go.” rafe says, halfway inside your cunt. “good girl.”
he pushes as far in as your pussy allows, both of you sitting in that moment, relishing in the feeling of being joined together as you stretch to accommodate his large length, shifting your hips side to side and up and down to get used to the feeling.
“i gotta move, baby.” rafe says, his voice sounding strained.
“yeah, go ahead.” you nod. despite your affirmation, rafe continues to move slowly, his hips swinging back before pressing forward, carefully building up a rhythm.
“it feels really good.” you tell rafe, your cheeks flushed bright pink, hair fanned out on the pillow around you like a glowing halo.
“yeah, yeah.” rafe nods rapidly, his grip on control quickly loosening. “you feel so good too.”
rafe knows he should stop, but he loves the way your body reacts to his dirty words. “you’re so tight around me. i love this pussy. so much better than your mamas. gonna give me a baby, right?”
“i-yeah.” you nod. “fill me up.”
rafes loosening control shatters, his hips swinging forward fast, burying his cock inside of you as the pace instantly triples. you let out a squeal, the sheets gripped in your hands as he pounds into you.
“gonna fill up your pretty little cunnie, baby.” rafe grunts out, his own forehead sheening with sweat from his effort, his muscles straining as he pushes up then down, up then down.
“want it so bad.” you whine. 
“fuck.” rafe gasps out, mouth dropping open, his lips shiny from eating you out. “can’t last much longer. gonna cum.”
you experiment, clenching your pussy around his cock, and judging by rafes reaction of a loud moan and curse, you can tell he likes it. you continue, squeezing every time he pulls out, wanting to keep his cock wrapped in your warmth.
“i-im cumming.” rafe gasps out, his cock growing inside of you before your eyes widen, suddenly feeling warmth spreading as his cum fills you, his cock pressing in even harder, hoping it reaches your womb.
“god.” rafe groans, lowering his body on top of yours, but you don’t care about the weight as you smile.
“we’re gonna keep doing that?” you ask, running your hand down his back.
rafe looks up at you. “oh, of course baby. gonna keep fucking you while you’re pregnant too, maybe you’ll give us twins.”
you roll your eyes and giggle at rafe. “thats not how it works, silly!” “oh, what do you know?” rafe smirks at you. “you haven’t even had sex before!”
“well… i have now.” you mumble, shifting your hips from side to side, rafes cock still lodged deep inside of you.
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pin-k-ink · 6 months ago
Note
kinda common request but ushijima with a size kink 👀
lusus // ushijima wakatoshi
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tw ⇢ size difference, size kink, belly bulge, cumflation, mentions of pregnancy and marriage, a couple of clit slaps, teasing, pet names, “just the tip”, creampie, nipple play, unprotected sex, breeding kink
wc ⇢ 6.5k
a/n: i got a bit carried away… :(
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It started as an idle observation - one Ushijima couldn't quite pinpoint the origins of amidst the endless cycle of practices, drills, and critical preparations filling his laser-focused mind. But gradually, possibility after innocent possibility arose where he found his sharp eyes catching on the sheer... daintiness of the team's new manager.
The first instance blazed into sudden, startling existence one afternoon as you attempted to ascend the rickety ladder for hanging the championship banners. Engrossed in charting out a fresh tactical overhaul with the coaches, Ushijima only registered your presence in his periphery as a flicker of movement.
Then came the tell-tale wobble of unsteady footfalls on the rungs, followed by a muffled yelp that managed to penetrate even his intense concentration. Before conscious thought could engage strategy, Ushijima was already in motion.
In what seemed like a single, supernaturally fluid heartbeat, his powerful strides had covered the short distance just as the ladder began tipping treacherously from beneath your feet. Another eyelash-blink later, and Ushijima's forearm banded like an iron bar around your trim waist - halting your stomach-dropping plummet with shocking ease.
But just as swiftly as your unconscious peril arose, it was snuffed out again by Ushijima's unhesitating intervention. That smooth-as-oiled-silk response was merely the product of endless repetitions and drilled conditioning honed to surgical sharpness.
What stole the breath from Ushijima's very lungs like a physical force was the sudden, bewildering intimacy of having your curves pressed flush against his chest in that follow-through motion. The way your back arched subtly against his solid wall of support as he cradled your astonishingly delicate frame against the immovable force of his body with negligible effort.
Even through the layered fabrics separating you, Ushijima swore he could feel every pliant inch of your modest silhouette molding against his ongoing inhale. Like liquid sin itself taking hypnotic shape and tempting form against the hardened steel of his physique.
It was such a disconcerting realization in that breathless moment that his brain lagged several precious pulses in catching up with the new data input overload. When Ushijima finally registered the quiet pants of shocked exhales ghosting warmly over the juncture of his throat, the sensory input proved as disarming as a physical blow.
The molten rasp of your breaths so unnervingly close... the plush press of your feminine curves all but swallowed up in the circle of his arms... the dizzying spiral of flowery shampoo and understated perfumes swirling between your two forms in a scent as unmistakably alluring as it was forbidden for the hyper-focused ace to dwell on...
With a ragged exhale, Ushijima abruptly disentangled you both by depositing your feet squarely back onto stable ground and swiftly disengaging contact. Though not before his senses insisted on greedily imprinting every nuance of your shared gravity - from the startled flutter of your lashes against flushed cheekbones, to the pleasing heft and hint of curvature fitting so unexpectedly neatly into his protective embrace.
As soon as the supporting rungs regained their burdened, you'd instinctively straightened with some reflexive murmur about being more careful in the future. But when your luminous gaze finally turned up to meet Ushijima's inscrutable stare, the words seemed to stutter and die on your lips.
For a suspended, molten pause, all the ace could comprehend was the sudden direct line of intimate access now open between you. The way your features were angled up towards him in the wake of that near-debacle, practically commanding his hyper-attuned focus lower...lower...to the utterly disarming swell of your parted lips that Ushijima swore he could nearly taste the breath-warmed fullness of despite no move being made.
It was such an unforgivable lapse of iron focus that in the next instant, Ushijima felt like he'd been doused in the coldest shower imaginable. A violent, full-body rejection of the distracting detour those inappropriate contemplations had nearly started meandering down.
That innocuous moment of dizzying intimacy seemed to awaken something deeply primal within Ushijima's consciousness - an insistent awareness that refused to fade back into ignorant complacency no matter how fervently he attempted to re-immerse in his usual flow of strategies and repetitions.
Everywhere he turned, his heightened attentions now persistently snagged on the same unavoidable observation: just how deceptively tiny and delicate your stature managed to be in direct contrast to his own honed, unyielding physicality.
During grueling practice sessions when the squad formed shoulder-to-shoulder for breaking down gameplay footage, Ushijima couldn't prevent his focus from repeatedly drifting to where you stood off to the side. The way the top of your head barely crested the center of his carved pectorals always delivered a strange molten punch to his gut - awakening unbidden flashes of you tucked securely against that very expanse of muscle mere days prior.
He found his stare lingering overlong on the gentle swell of your throat whenever you leaned in to inspect the tactical court maps unfurled across the staging tables before him. The delicate tendons shifting beneath satiny skin as you swallowed or angled your features in consternation would transfix Ushijima utterly. All he could envision was the scorching brand of his palm spanning that tantalizing column in a possessive caress as he angled your jaw higher to...
The inappropriate trail of thought would initiate a violent sub-routine reboot before it could bloat into something more disturbingly indecent. Ushijima's hands would unconsciously curl into white-knuckled fists at his sides as he forcibly rerouted higher brain function back to the neutral gameplans and optimizations spread before him.
But the struggle to maintain iron discipline only worsened from there as the days marched onwards. Like a riptide pummeling away at his steadfast restraint with each new swell, every innocuous reminder of your distractingly dainty proportions seemed to carve away another chunk of his control.
The mortifying afternoon Ushijima's broad shoulders and over-dense muscle mass saw him catching the spray of an entire water cooler you'd accidentally upended while attempting to carry the ungainly vessel. He hadn't registered more than a vague impression of your strained efforts across the gym before liquid splashed in a wide fan - drenching you from the crown of your head down to the tips of those petite, adorably flexed toes peeking from your sensible flats.
In the span of two lightning inhalations, Ushijima had closed the distance between you in a sinewy viper-strike of potent urgency. His hands - calloused, powerful, and larger than any person's had a right to be - spanned the width of your upper arms in an utterly dwarfing cradle as he instinctively inspected every inch for harm or hurt.
But there was no chance for actual injury of course, only your frozen astonishment and the way every fiber of Ushijima's existence zeroed in on that sudden soaked intimacy with frightening intensity. The cloying scent of your damp locks and the cool moisture beading along the plush pout of your lips in that breathless second redirected every one of his faculties with terrifying singularity.
He was mesmerized by the tiny rivulets of transparency skating across the high, delicate planes of your blushing cheekbones and down the tantalizing silk of your throat. So transfixed by the display of such naked fragility and untapped softness that the world beyond your shared gravities simply ceased to exist for one dizzying eternity...
Until eventually, you emitted the smallest, most temptingly breathy noise of surprise that managed to jar Ushijima from his reverie hard enough to wrench back to reality. Back to harsh fluorescents and squeaking sneakers and ambient shouts of exertion from his teammates resuming undisturbed drills. All the elements of the gym's familiar, safe equilibrium which starkly juxtaposed the darkly decadent awareness now swiftly metastasizing in his conscious thoughts.
Without preamble, Ushijima withdrew from your molten orbit as swiftly as he'd intervened - retracting those dangerously possessive hands before they could map out any more forbidden terrain or shape sin itself around your slender, soaked silhouette. An unforgivable indulgence the calculated, hyper-disciplined ace simply could not permit.
Or at least, so he had desperately resolved to convince himself in that moment of roiling weakness. Even as those traitorous eyes of his drank in one final, searing glimpse at the damp fabric now semi-translucent against the generous swell of your chest, straining invitingly over every tantalizing hint of feminine curvature concealed just beneath that teasing veil...
Encounters like that only seemed to escalate in both frequency and molten potency as the weeks drifted onwards. Until eventually Ushijima realized the gut-punched awareness plaguing his every waking moment was not some freak intermittence to be powered through with sheer determination, but a persistent condition demanding far more creative counterattacks.
Merely avoiding direct proximity to your daintiness proved an exercise in abject failure when the rest of the team apparently relished any opportunity to loudly emphasize the stark contrasts in your respective statures. As if the very sight of Ushijima's broad-shouldered bulk looming effortlessly over your petite figure acted as flashing neon bait to the resident school of minnows always nipping at his heels.
"Hey y/n! Get over here and compare hand sizes with Ushiwaka for the squad contest!" Tendou's vocals pierced the din of one post-practice cooldown with all the subtlety of a backfiring jet engine.
Ushijima felt his spine go ridgidly upright at the grating tones, shoulders unconsciously squaring off as he braced for the juvenile antics sure to fol--
"Yeah, find out if the great Ushiwaka's hands are truly the most gigantic mitts on the team, little lady!"
You obediently trotted over with an exasperated roll of your eyes, already offering up one slender wrist in resigned acceptance of whatever crass "competition" the randier hooligans had concocted during Ushijima's rare mental lapse into the indecent reveries swiftly spiraling out of control.
Before either of your startled regards could register, Tendou eagerly snatched at your proffered appendage and wrenched it upward in a comparative display beside Ushijima's own outstretched palm and fingers. The contrast in size made the breath stutter harsh and molten in the ace spiker's lungs.
Your soft, tapered digits barely spanned from the pointed tip of Ushiwaka's calloused thumb to the first knuckle at the base. Like comparing a child's plaything to the implacable, sinuous strength of a well-oiled machine purposely engineered for delivering controlled devastation. It abruptly felt utterly unconscionable for the two examples to be juxtaposed so overtly.
"Well I'll be damned..." Semi drawled somewhere from the peanut gallery, voice heavy with meaning. "Our little homeroom angelcake has Thumbelina hands after all!"
A few raucous hoots and whistles greeted that filthy observation, no doubt aimed at further fanning the flames of Ushijima's suddenly tenuous restraint. His free hand curled into an unconscious white-knuckled fist at his side as raw, unfettered possession roared to vivid life in his veins like an insidious poison.
The primal urge to snatch your tiny wrist free from Tendou's irreverent grip and reclaim your delicateness into the protective circle of his embrace grew increasingly maddening with every rasping inhale. To erase every set of degenerate eyes currently devouring the soft vulnerability of your feminine composition with their sordid regards from existence entirely. All while drowning in the molten awareness of how utterly and effortlessly your fragility fit beneath his dominion.
Only your smooth, infinitesimal squirm of apparent discomfort broke through the toxic spiral starting to cloud Ushijima's enraged senses in ruby shades of sin. His stare snapped to your features instantly, honing in on the way your cheeks had gone ruddy pink, your generous lips pressed into a flat line of perturbed propriety.
Meeting those wide, reproachful eyes - so innocent yet utterly unguarded in their honest chastisement - acted like a bucket of arctic water over the flames engulfing Ushijima's possessive urges. You didn't deserve to be subjected to the darker facets of awareness cresting inside the Ace's subconscious, he rebuked himself harshly. The quiet dignity and warm support constantly exuded by your graceful presence within their team dynamic far outstripped any sordid justifications brewing within his own repressed psyche.
Heavy footfalls crunched in the stale auditorium hush surrounding the gym as Ushijima turned on his heel to stalk mindfully away from further temptation. He couldn't trust his mental fortitude around you anymore, not with these unaccountable lapses into devouring indecency plaguing his iron restraint.
At least, not until the reckless firestorm of primal hunger silently raging in his core had been expertly doused and redirected once more into something resembling their usual polished professionalism.
Behind him, the continued jeering whoops and whistles dissolved into background static, tuned out utterly in favor of his silent, singular mission to wrestle his runaway restraint back into immovable discipline before it was too late...
The fever pitch of Ushijima's smoldering awareness continued spiraling to dizzying new nadirs with every subsequent team outing. As if some unspoken cosmic force seemed hellbent on testing the superhuman restraint of even the most stoic and unshakeable ace with a relentless barrage of fresh intimacies.
The yearly athletics festival proved to be a particular gauntlet of temptation in that regard. Your petite stature made navigating the rowdy crush of bodies lining the parade route essentially impossible without getting hopelessly turned around or even inadvertently trampled amidst the chaos.
Which was how Ushijima found himself glancing over at one point, only to feel a molten punch of concern twist his gut at the tableau laid out before him. There you stood, straining up onto your tiptoes in a fruitless attempt to glimpse whatever activity currently held the crowd's raucous attentions in thrall from your disadvantaged sightlines.
One broad sweep of his discerning gaze rapidly took in the squirming press of torsos and rippling sea of elevated arms boxing you into a near-suffocating pocket of confusion and mild panic. Your features pinched with that unmistakable look of overwhelmed dismay Ushijima was swiftly coming to recognize as a siren's call demanding his undivided intercession - propriety and personal restraint be damned.
Without preamble, his powerful strides easily ate up the short distance separating you as he shouldered his way through the rowdy crowd with unhesitating force. A few surprised yelps and grunts of displeasure met the wake of his passage. But Ushijima paid them no heed whatsoever, already caught up in the scorching undertow of his singular mission.
No words were exchanged, no by-your-leaves requested or offered as he coasted to an abrupt halt before your petite silhouette. You didn't even have a chance to register his sudden, looming proximity before Ushijima had already stooped into an effortless crouch and banded one heavy arm behind the pliant give of your knees.
The other swept out to catch the surprised bend of your lower back in a fluid, steely arc - essentially scooping your entire diminutive frame up into the air with all the ease and negligible effort most would exert when retrieving a magazine from the coffee table before them.
A soft, startled noise punched its way past your parted lips at the abrupt relocation. But before any reflexive protests could surface, Ushijima had already straightened back up to his towering full height with you easily cradled in the protective circle of his arms.
From this elevated vantage just beneath his squared jawline, you couldn't begin to even see over the tops of his powerful shoulders -- much less rejoin the rest of the team amidst the crowds. Ushijima's broad, marble-carved features stared inscrutably down at you through those perpetually shadowed lenses as a lush wash of heat flooded your cheeks.
In that suspended heartbeat of molten connection sizzling between you, the Ace spiker permitted himself the indecency of simply...savoring the moment stolen away against all propriety or restraint. Of drinking in the ephemeral impression of having your waifish curves and feather-light composition utterly subsumed within his protective embrace with utterly zero effort extended.
He allowed his larger-than-life palms to map out the delicious give of your lower back and hamstrings in one unhurried, possessive caress. Was mesmerized by the tiny, delicate bones of your wrist and the swell of tendons shifting beneath fragile skin as you instinctively curled your fingers over the carved geometry of his clavicle to steady your ascent.
There was simply no denying the rapturous delight thrumming through Ushijima's every tendon at how unimaginably minuscule you felt gathered against the solid wall of his torso like this. How confidently, how naturally your slight form seemed to melt into the cradle of his broad arms and chest as though every inch of whittled musculature had been divinely sculpted with this exact indecent cradling in mind--
With a harsh inhalation lancing through his nostrils like dragonsmoke, Ushijima abruptly resumed his sinewy strides forward once more - jaw clenching on a punishing grind as he ruthlessly smothered that wildfire of wanton fantasies before they could truly ignite. He refused to allow himself to be so thoroughly unmade and derailed by your doe-eyed prettiness again and again...no matter how transcendentally perfect your fragility felt molded against his immovable dominion in reality.
No. He was the consummate discipline in humanoid form, the very avatar of hyper-focused intensity and restraint. He would not be reduced to some dribbling, base cretin rendered incoherent by the fleeting impressions of tenderness and possession currently drug-hazing his senses.
Or at least, that's what Ushijima fervently told himself with every subsequent footfall resonating between you. Even as your quiet, self-conscious giggle of amusement suddenly wafted up on a humid zephyr - close enough that he could taste the sweetness of your breath on his tongue.
And close enough to rip the foundations out from beneath his fragile reasonings once again...
Ushijima really should have known better by now than to allow any scenarios where prolonged proximity to you proved unavoidable. And yet, time after time he seemed to stumble into these charged intimacies through sheer happenstance or unthinking habit.
Like the afternoon you'd both ended up seated side-by-side reviewing fresh game footage, with the rest of the team circled loosely around the solitary monitor on offer. It had seemed innocuous at first - nothing Ushijima hadn't experienced a thousand times before amid the endless cycle of preparations and chalk-talk sessions.
But the moment you shifted slightly closer, brushing your shoulder companionably against his in the tight confines, everything abruptly snapped into hyper-focused clarity once more. Ushijima became excruciatingly aware of even the most infinitesimal details radiating off your modest frame in dizzying waves.
The delicious floral bouquet of your shampoo and subtle perfume swirling between you in one intoxicating melange. The silken friction of your skirt whispering against his thigh with every minute readjustment. Even the warm puffs of your quiet breathing seemed to skate tantalizingly down the side of his throat in a searing caress he couldn't shake.
It was like being unwillingly submerged in an ocean of scintillating distractions and forbidden temptations, all designed to lash against the rickety moorings of Ushijima's restraint. He grit his molars hard enough for his jaw to creak in protest, determined not to allow himself to drown in those swirling indulgences again so easily.
Until the moment you made an abortive move to rise from the enveloping couch cushions - no doubt intending to step out briefly during a lull in the tactical breakdown occurring.
Before any rational thought could properly engage, Ushijima's hand was already lashing out in a reflexive, steely arc to halt your departure. Those same powerful fingers and sinuous tendons he relied upon to bludgeon spiker after spiker across the net wrapped like an immovable vise around your upper thigh with zero difficulty.
The jolt of heated realization that slammed into him was as disorienting as a physical blow. Ushijima froze utterly at the dizzying impression of his palm and splayed fingers spanning nearly the entire circumference of your thigh with space to spare. Of how easily that compact muscle strained and flexed beneath his grasp - as though every individual tendon comprising your modest curves had been purposefully scaled down to entice maximum inspiration from proportionally oversized grips like his own.
You'd startled at the unexpected contact just as thoroughly, pink lips parting to release some muffled noise or breathy exclamation of surprise. But all of Ushijima's strained focus abruptly hemorrhaged elsewhere in the wake of that heated touch.
All he could process was the rapturous give of your soft skin pulsing like molten silk against his calloused fingertips as you instinctively pressed back into the solid cradle of the sofa. The fine vee of your pelvis canting subtly against his knuckles in a sleek, powerful motion somehow throbbingly evocative of wholly indecent undulations and surrender.
An incendiary tidal-wave of wanton fantasy detonated behind Ushijima's eyes without preamble. Of ruthlessly leveraging his disproportionate physicality to seize every inch of your pliant, untapped softness in an iron grip and wringing out plaintive whimpers with each filthy glide of supplication...
Only your startled squirm and the faintly bewildered look now creasing those delicate features managed to pierce the scarlet haze building to criticality in Ushijima's skullfornace. Those too-large fists of his slowly unclenched from their vice with what felt like herculean effort -- leaving a burning imprint of possession seared into his flesh where unforgivable temptation had blossomed in the blink of an eye.
"Ushijima-san?" you queried hesitantly, no doubt picking up on the sharp disquiet simmering beneath his stoicism like corrupted code refracting beneath a still surface.
He didn't dare meet your gaze fully, instead making a Herculean effort to refocus on the tactical video still playing across the monitor before you both with hypnotic regularity. Perhaps if he immersed himself in those safe, sterile patterns once more, the more primal spirals of desire trying to pull him under again could finally be filtered ou—
"I'm just going to get some air," Ushijima growled before you could probe his sudden storm front further. He was on his feet before the words had even finished rasping past his lips, strides already eating up distance from your molten gravities in an urgent retreat.
The confused furrow pinching your brow as you watched his abrupt departure didn't even register to Ushijima. He was already compiling fresh deterrent subroutines in a frantic bid to wrangle back control of the rising inferno intent on consuming him from within over any further innocuous intimacies.
The dam finally burst during one of their routine evenings reviewing overhead camera footage from practice drills in Ushijima's private quarters. What should have been a perfectly sterile, professional exercise in optimizing spike angles and read progressions rapidly snowballed into something far more insidious.
Perhaps it was the dimness of the solitary desk lamp casting intimate shadows across your features as you leaned over the scattered topography of notes and stills spread before you. Or the way you'd automatically settled onto the edge of Ushijima's bed for lack of a second chair, creating a molten tableau of softness amidst his spartan sleeping arrangements that screamed of sin in the flickering half-light.
Whatever the catalyst, all it took was a single absentminded brush of your bare calf skimming up against Ushijima's as you shifted your weight - and every last vestige of restraint he'd been desperately grappling to maintain went nuclear in an eyeblink of culpability.
The live-wire frisson of that ephemeral contact jolted straight down to his very foundations like a lightning strike forking the sky. Before his conscious mind could fully grasp what was happening, Ushijima had already reacted on searing instinct honed across endless hours of emergency reads and scenarios.
In one blurring inhalation, his hand whipped out to lock around the flexing swell of your knee in an inescapable vise. With the other fist riveted into the mattress behind your hip, he effortlessly leveraged that staggering differential in strength to swivel your entire frame flush against his own coiled undulations before you could strangle out more than a whimper of surprise.
The rapturous juxtaposition of having your supple, dainty softness suddenly splayed out so nakedly within the cradle of his indomitable physicality very nearly punched every stray volt of higher reasoning from Ushijima's razored focus in a single shattering detonation. Finally, FINALLY, you were pressed so exquisitely into the scorching brand of him with zero boundaries or illusions of propriety separating you.
His senses veritably whited out beneath the molten lash of that merciless sensory overload as your heady bouquet, your delicate warmth, the whisper-slick friction of your cotton shorts clinging to the flexing sinew of his quads all slammed home in a rapturous deluge. For one endless, shuddering inhale, the primal immensity of having your frail, coveted prize conquered within his dominion rendered Ushijima utterly unmade.
Only one other base compulsion seemed capable of piercing that blinding nova scorching away the last vestiges of lucidity between you. With a harsh growl that seemed to emanate from the very dregs of his subconscious, Ushijima surged forward - simultaneously dragging your pliant form further into the cruel vanquishing of his embrace as he sealed his lips over yours in a branding conflagration of possession.
Any muffled whimpers of surprise or protests were instantly swallowed up and reduced to mere background white-noise in the wake of that indecent detonation. You instinctively melted and writhed, alternating between fitful struggles and the boneless surrender of prey before an apex predator's unhesitating advance as Ushijima's mouth plundered yours with nearly animalistic intensity.
Every hot exhalation stuttering from your gasping lips was instantly consumed and made air by the harsh rake of his next growling inhale. Lush whimpers transmuted to molten keens as his calloused palms mapped out every untapped inch of softness and burgeoning curve with searing brands of marking possession.
The taste of you on his tongue rapidly became the single point of obsession anchoring Ushijima's restraint to reality. Cloying floral and hints of something sweeter--the remnants of candy you'd treated yourself to earlier that day no doubt. The knowledge that he was finally savoring the true essence of your temptation after being starved of it for so long only served to inflame his primal desperation to experience everything all at once.
His iron-wrought frame visibly shuddered and heaved with each fresh glut of restraint rapidly ceding ground before that onslaught of unleashed lust. Everywhere his grasping hands ventured, electric ribbons of molten desire seemed to trail in their wake - intent on bathing you in the scorching, centered totality of pleasures Ushijima so rarely ever permitted himself to indulge at all.
Before that towering obsession could well and truly drown you beneath roiling tidal waves of sin, a final gossamer filament of conscience finally managed to penetrate the eruption enough for Ushijima to tear his lips free with a hoarse, bestial snarl of exquisite torment.
"You...have no idea..." he rasped in a slaughtering graveled baritone drenched in consumed want yet still somehow begging for Purchase. For you to meet him in the raging inferno of abandon he'd prepared to burn for. "What you do to me, little one..."
A desperate noise punched its way free from the back of your throat at those words - as if voicing the very same primal understanding now thrashing at your core as well. You were suddenly everywhere at once, pliant and heated and utterly unraveled, panting hot entreaties against the fury of Ushijima's next merciless inhale.
"W-what do I do, Wakatoshi?"
A harsh groan rattled loose from somewhere deep inside the ace spiker's chest cavity at those words. At the sheer, audacity of them. The brazen invitation they implied.
It was a question he couldn't possibly answer in any rational capacity. A question that demanded total and utter subjugation in the face of its overwhelming implications.
And one which Ushijima could no longer refuse.
With a vicious exhale, his broad, calloused palms slid to cup the generous curve of your rear in a claiming caress. Without pause, Ushijima dragged you upwards against his rippling torso, angling your head and lips back against his with an unhurried, deliberate savagery.
This kiss was different from the others. Gone was the frenetic pace and wild abandon of your initial collision. Now, his mouth moved over yours with a languid, unrepentant thoroughness - mapping out every seam and crease of plush compliance with the implacable, measured focus he normally reserved for the court.
A breathy keen vibrated from the center of your throat, and Ushijima seized the opportunity to delve deeper with a sinuous twist of his tongue, claiming the wet warmth of your mouth for his own once more. His large fingers dug into the pliant swell of your rear, kneading and spreading the supple globes apart until he could feel the wet heat radiating off your pussy soaking through the thin fabric of your shorts against his straining arousal.
A groan tore loose from Ushijima's chest, raw and needy, as he began rocking his hips in slow, deliberate circles, grinding his clothed cock into the slickness gathering between your thighs. The feel of your cunt pulsing against his length was like a match striking a dry forest. He couldn't remember a time in his life when he'd been so hard. So fucking desperate.
But the way your arms locked around his neck and your slim legs hooked around his waist as he continued rolling his hips sent an avalanche of need roaring through him. It wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. He wanted you spread and bared, wanton and desperate beneath him.
"On your back, little one," he growled against the damp swell of your bottom lip.
The way your pupils dilated and your eyes darkened at the order was so damn sexy. The way you scrambled to obey was even sexier.
Without releasing his grip, Ushijima lowered himself atop you, careful not to let the full weight of his bulk rest upon you. He was a big man. Too big to risk crushing your smaller frame beneath his.
He would have to find other ways to keep you pinned beneath him.
With the tip of his index finger, he traced a path down the silky column of your neck, over your collarbone, and across the slope of your chest, watching as your nipples pebbled and hardened under his feather-light touch. He paused for a moment, admiring the view, and then he slid his finger down to the hem of your shirt.
He lifted his eyes to yours. "Arms above your head."
Your eyelids fluttered as you lifted your arms over your head, your breath coming in short bursts, and then you complied.
Ushijima pulled your shirt off, tossing it somewhere behind him. He didn't bother unhooking your bra. Instead, he shoved it up, baring your tits to his hungry gaze.
He dipped his head, capturing a nipple between his lips and sucking it into his mouth, while his hand cupped the soft swell of the other. A low, breathy moan echoed from the back of your throat as you squirmed beneath him, and he couldn't suppress a groan. Your taste was better than he'd imagined.
His teeth scraped over the sensitive peak, and a whimper bubbled from the back of your throat. You arched your back, pushing your breasts further into his mouth and hands, and he released the nipple with a wet pop, lifting his head and giving you a stern look.
"No moving. I'll tie you down if I have to."
The thought of tying you up sent another rush of blood to his already throbbing dick, but now wasn't the time. He could tie you up and torture you later, when he'd had a chance to go to the store and pick out some pretty restraints and maybe a vibrator.
Instead, he returned his attention to the task at hand, his thumb stroking over your hardened nipple while his lips descended upon the other. You gasped, writhing beneath him, and he nipped the delicate flesh with his teeth, eliciting a squeak.
"Be a good girl," he murmured. "Stay still for me."
And then, without waiting for an answer, he returned his mouth to your tits, licking and sucking, biting and pinching until the peaks were red and swollen, and you were a shivering mess beneath him.
By the time he finally lifted his head, the crotch of his shorts was soaked, and he could feel your own slickness soaking through the thin material of your panties.
He slid a hand between your bodies, tracing the outline of your folds through the soaked fabric. You moaned, arching your hips, and he gave a sharp smack to your thigh.
"Don't move," he ordered.
He hooked a finger under the hem, tugging it to the side, and his cock twitched at the sight of your glistening pussy. His mouth watered at the prospect of tasting you, but his own arousal was quickly becoming a problem. His erection was straining painfully against the fly of his shorts, and he was dangerously close to coming just from the friction of the fabric rubbing against him.
He tugged your underwear the rest of the way off, and you shivered as the cool air of the room washed over your heated flesh.
"Cold, baby?" he murmured, and you nodded.
"We'll fix that soon enough," he promised.
He pulled his own shirt off and tossed it aside. He didn't bother to unfasten his shorts, just unzipped them and pushed them and his boxers down enough to release his cock.
His balls tightened as his shaft sprang free, bobbing heavily between his thighs. He wrapped his fist around his shaft, pumping it slowly. He didn't need much stimulation. Just seeing you sprawled out before him, naked and wet, was enough to get him there.
He shuffled a bit closer and rested his heavy cock on the soft skin of your abdomen, hissing as the head of his cock rubbed against the smooth plane of your stomach. He couldn’t believe how tiny you were. How his cock could cover your entire stomach. How the tip of it almost reached your sternum.
He groaned, pumping his cock a few more times before lifting it and sliding the length between the wet lips of your pussy. You gasped as his cock glided over your clit, and he repeated the motion, enjoying the way you moaned and writhed.
"Look at you, taking my cock so well," he breathed, watching as his shaft slipped and slid over your clit.
You whimpered, and he increased his pace, rocking his hips and fucking his length between the swollen lips of your pussy. "S’ too big…" you whimpered, the walls of your cunt contract around nothing.
He grunted, thrusting faster, feeling your slickness coat his cock, making it easier for him to slide between the folds of your pussy. You moaned, arching your hips and trying to rub yourself against him, but he didn't let you. Instead, he pulled his cock away, smacking the underside of his length against your clit.
"Fuck!" you gasped, your hands flying to his shoulders, gripping the solid muscle and squeezing as you tried to find purchase.
"Don't move," he repeated, swatting his cock against your clit a second time, and then a third, before pressing the tip against your entrance.
Your eyes widened, and you stared up at him with an expression that was half-terror and half-excitement. He smiled down at you, his fingers tangling in the hair at the base of your skull, pulling your head back so you were forced to meet his gaze.
"You're going to take my cock like a good girl," he told you, and you shuddered, a whine slipping past your parted lips.
"I- I don't know if I can," you whispered, your voice shaky and uncertain, and he chuckled.
"Oh, you will," he assured you. "I’ll fuck you with just the tip first, okay? We'll start there and work our way up."
Your brow furrowed, and he could tell you were trying to figure out exactly what he meant by that. But then he was pressing his cock into your tight hole, and all thoughts flew from your mind as his girth stretched you open, stretching you wider than you'd ever been stretched before.
He didn't push his length into you right away, just slid his fat tip in and out, working you open. It felt incredible. You were so tight, so wet, and the way your muscles clenched and pulsed around his shaft had his balls drawing up, ready to blow his load.
"Fuck, baby, you're gonna make me come," he grunted, pulling his cock free from your pussy and rubbing the head against your clit, enjoying the way you shivered and writhed, the way your juices dripped from your hole.
"Want to fill you up," he muttered, pushing his cock back into your cunt, watching the way his thick girth stretched you, disappearing inside of you, inch by inch. "Fill you with my cum and make you pregnant."
Your eyes widened, and you stared up at him with an expression that was part shock and part fear. He didn't care. You'd take his cum, and he'd fill you with it over and over until he was sure you were knocked up.
He slid his length the rest of the way inside of you, until his balls were pressed against the curve of your ass. Until he saw the imprint of his cock bulging through your abdomen. Until his entire shaft was buried deep inside your hot cunt, the head bumping against your cervix.
"Gonna fuck you with my whole cock," he told you, and you moaned, the walls of your pussy fluttering around his shaft. "Gonna make you come all over me."
You gasped, your hands moving to grip his biceps, your nails digging into his skin as he began to pump his length in and out of you, fucking you with his entire shaft. He fucked you fast and hard, his hips snapping, the head of his cock hammering against your cervix, and it didn't take long before your muscles were clenching around his girth, milking him as he pounded into you.
You cried out, your eyes screwing shut, your body trembling as your orgasm tore through you, and he knew he couldn't hold back anymore. With a groan, he thrust his cock deep inside your pussy and came, spurting thick ropes of cum inside your cunt, painting your inner walls with his potent seed. He didn’t stop flooding your womb with his virile cum until he saw the skin of your belly distend and your lower abdomen rounding slightly.
He pulled his cock out, his shaft glistening with his spend and your juices, and you winced, squirming beneath him as his cum trickled out of your cunt, leaking down your ass crack. He pressed his palm flat against the bulge in your belly, watching as the cum gushed out of your stuffed cunt.
"Fucked you so full," he said, rubbing the head of his cock against your swollen clit, making you shiver. "Gonna be dripping my cum for days."
You groaned, your eyes falling shut as he continued to tease your clit, and he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips, his tongue darting out to trace the seam.
"I'm not finished with you yet, little one," he murmured, and you moaned. "I'm going to fill you with my seed over and over again until I'm sure you're pregnant. And then we’ll get married, won’t we?"
2K notes · View notes
2hightocare · 7 months ago
Text
DOWN BAD! 01
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Synopsis: Despite undeniable chemistry, your guys’ relationship remains undefined, caught between playful teasing to deeper, unspoken longing,
Pairings: bad boy! jungkook x fem! reader
Genre: friends to lovers. college au.
Warnings: toxicity, jealousy, explicit content, angsty, smoking, usage of drugs and alcohol, fighting, profanity, slowburn, jungkook and oc are literally in love but do nothing about it, crying, hurtful words being thrown out when arguing, slapping.
a/n: IM BACK!! this is something super different than anything I have ever wrote sooooo… but i actually really love it. This would be a two-shot. Hope you enjoy🪽🪽 <3
pinterest board. playlist 02! 03!
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"He pisses me off," you say while dropping onto the couch with a loud annoyed sigh, catching Taehyung's and Dahlia's attention.
"What did he do now?" Taehyung jokes, adjusting his tie on his uniform. "Look at another girl, that's what he did," you clench your teeth, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. Your fingers play with the hem of your short navy squared skirt.
Your friends let out a collective laugh, making you scoff at them. "He asked a girl for a cigarette," you mumble under your breath, feeling the pang of jealousy hit your heart.
"Morning," a deep voice speaks from behind you, sending shivers down your body almost automatically. Your brows furrow as Jungkook makes his way beside you on the small couch in the lounge room after acknowledging his friends. His white button-up is opened, revealing a peak of his skin, which annoys you. He tugs on his navy tie, the same one as yours, undoing it and letting it hang loosely around his neck.
"Are you done being mad?" He tilts his head to the side, staring at you. His breath smells of the cigarette he had been smoking, the same one he accepted from a girl who had a crush on him, which irked you. You almost wanted to snatch the cigarette from his lips and stomp on it like a child when he lit it up.
"No, I'm not done being mad," you scoff, getting up from the couch in a swift motion. Jungkook lets out a frustrated sigh behind you before reaching for your skirt and pulling it down.
"Too short," he says, ignoring your whole tantrum.
You don’t reply. Instead, you smack his hand away from your ass before picking up your backpack and throwing it at him.
"Let’s go to class," you say, crossing your arms in front of you, making your boobs push up from the white button-up—you had intentionally left two buttons open after seeing him. His eyes immediately drop to your chest, and Jungkook pokes his cheek with his tongue on the inside before letting out a soft growl and reaching to button up your shirt.
"You’re insufferable," he lets out, fixing your shirt.
"You’re insufferable," you mock back, earning a grin from him.
"Are you ready to talk to me?" He bites his bottom lip, picking up your pink backpack and hanging it over his shoulder, something he was used to doing by now. "No, but the attitude is kinda hot, not gonna lie," you say, before making your way to your first period, with Jungkook trailing behind you like a puppy on a leash.
You and Jungkook weren’t dating, nor were you friends with benefits either. You were just friends with feelings bigger than Mount Everest. It all started on the first day of sophomore year of high school.
“No more fights, okay. First day only and you already got into a fight,” Namjoon blows out a sigh, running a hand down his face.
Jungkook scoffs, pulling on his tie. “This uniform is pissing me off.” He growls, ignoring Namjoon's attempt to coax him into a conversation about controlling his anger issues. Jungkook wasn’t in the mood to deal with any of it, especially today.
“Yeah, well, fancy private schools love their uniforms,” Namjoon jokes, but Jungkook's expression remains jaded.
“Anyways, you’re lucky you didn’t get suspended,” Namjoon continues, shooting Taehyung a look that screams for help.
“Lucky? I would’ve preferred if they expelled me,” Jungkook mumbles, leaning back on his chair, throwing his head back in annoyance.
Before Namjoon could mutter another response about self-sabotaging, a female voice catches Jungkook's interest. “I don’t give a fuck, she literally ripped my new tights,” you whine, your hair disheveled, the lipstick once on your lips now smeared, and your new black over-the-knee tights, ripped.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you could tackle her to the ground, Yn,” another girl says, nudging you, which makes you pout more. “My mom is going to kill me for getting into a fight on the first day.” You sit down in front of Jungkook, not even glancing his way, throwing your pink backpack on the ground beside you, keeping your eyes on the ground.
Jungkook takes notice of your appearance, and his heart rate skyrockets. You were beautiful, like an angel, but Jungkook knew better than to think you were innocent. The skirt was much shorter than it was supposed to be, your blouse more open than closed, which had Jungkook's eyes dropping to the tie between your tits, taking notice of the cross necklace hanging on your neck.
Angel with dirty wings. Jungkook thought to himself as he took you in, the smeared lipstick adding to your allure. Your full and pouty messy lips, had him imagining things only he imagined when he was in his room at night with his hand wrapped around his cock.
Instead, he's sitting at the front office with a pretty girl in front of him for the same reason he was. As he is thinking about far more inappropriate things than fighting. Before Jungkook could look away, your eyes met his.
“You’re new,” you grin at the bruised-up boy manspreading with a matching grin on his face in front of you.
“I am,” Jungkook replies, licking his bloody bottom lip with his tongue. Eyes still remain glued to yours as you nod. “I’ve never seen you around,” you state, tilting your head to the side, leaning forward.
“And I’m pretty sure I would remember someone that looked like you,” you continue, taking him in. The black blazer, with the school logo, he was supposed to be wearing was discarded on the chair beside him, leaving him in the white button-up, sleeves rolled up halfway, giving you a full view of the veins on his arms. His black hair was tousled on his head, the bloody lip made him hotter than you cared to admit.
“Is this a way of telling me you don’t have a boyfriend?” Jungkook flirts, ignoring his friends' obvious stares from beside him.
“Not yet,” you quirk, tapping your finger on your bare thigh. “What’s your name?” you ask, wanting to know more about the boy in front of you besides the fact that he gets into fights on the first day of school.
“Does it matter? You’ll be calling me “baby” by the end of the day,” Jungkook says aloof, which gets him a small smile from you. “Smooth,” you shrug, leaning backward.
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"Angel," he says, his hands snaking around your waist, pulling you in.
"Hi," you smile at him, your eyes twinkling with unspoken affection.
"Hi," Jungkook responds, his dimple carving into his skin as he leans forward, his nose touching yours, nuzzling—a short, quick gesture that steals the air from your lungs. You almost feel yourself hanging onto these moments by a thread—moments where he isn’t high or drunk out of his mind or fighting with anyone who pisses him off in the slightest.
"Do you like my costume?" You flutter your eyelashes at him sarcastically, eliciting a small laugh as he throws his head back into the wall. "I don’t know, do I?" he says, his tone dipped in enticing sarcasm. His tattooed hand drops lower on your back, causing your breath to hitch in your mouth.
The music suddenly muffles out as you focus on Jungkook’s finger dipping into the waistband of your skirt. "You look pretty," he whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
"Where’s your halo, baby?" he says, pulling on your perfectly curled hair, making you look up at him. "Lost it while I was dancing," you pout, wrapping your arms around his waist, pulling him in closer to you.
You’ve never understood when people said, “home could be a person,” but you hundred percent get it now. It's almost embarrassing how quickly you melt into his embrace, your limbs relaxing—inhaling his scent. Your brain suddenly shuts down, not thinking about anything besides him, the moment he wraps his arms over your shoulders, dropping his lips on the crown of your head, leaving a soft kiss there.
"Don’t smile," you jut out, peeping your head up to see the small curved smile displayed on his face. "Why not?" he pokes, amusement clear in his face as his smile widens, deepening his dimples.
"Stop," you giggle, placing a small hand over his face.
"What?" he chuckles, getting a hold of your hand, giving your wrist a kiss before letting it hang beside you. "Your dimples are showing, and they’re only mine to see. Bitches love dimples," you say, only making him smile more.
Anyone else who saw Jungkook smiling all giddy at you would know better than to poke fun at him—but it was rare to see Jungkook smiling and laughing so casually out in the open. Behind closed doors, Jungkook was the epitome of a teddy bear; he loved head and back scratches and loved being a little spoon, all contrary to his dark clothes, cigarettes hanging from his mouth, and the heavy amount of alcohol he could consume.
"Be a good boyfriend and stop smiling, please," you quip, untangling from his embrace and looking around for Dahlia, only to be met with her making out with Taehyung on the countertop.
"I’m not your boyfriend, angel," Jungkook says beside you, putting a hand over your shoulders, taking a chug out of his beer.
"Oh yeah, my bad. I forgot. You’re my bitch," you turn to look at him, a mischievous smile on your face, which has him playfully rolling his eyes, mumbling something under his breath that you couldn’t quite catch before he took his arm off your shoulder, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a cigarette.
"Let’s go outside," he holds out his hand, which you don’t think twice before intertwining yours with his. You feel giddy as you walk past the crowd holding his hand, as he leads you outside. You hated how many small moments like this had you wanting more from him, knowing this is the most he could ever give you. Jungkook had walls larger than the walls of China. You tried your hardest to stand up on your tiptoes and look. But whenever you got a sneak peek from what's inside, Jungkook built them right back up.
Ever since sophomore year of high school, you had the hugest crush on Jungkook, and you knew deep down he did too, but he never said anything all these years. It was embarrassing how you found yourself waiting for him—you couldn’t help it; your heart basically beat for him.
As you both reach a tall seat wall, before you know it, he's picking you up and placing you on the cold brick wall. Goosebumps appear on your bare thighs while he rubs his warm, calloused hands up and down.
"Cold," you whine, looking down at your angel costume—the white, flowy short skirt, your long white knee-high socks with the tall heels. And don’t forget your lace white top that kept getting tangled with your belly piercing. "I know ways to keep you warm," Jungkook waggles his eyebrows, moving closer to you. You feel his hands on your knees, opening your legs before he steps in between them. The closeness was something you were used to—the cheek kisses, the hand on your thigh, but never this. He was too close to your face—you could feel his warm breath whenever he would breathe. You felt your chest heave as everything you wanted was for him to put his lips on yours. Jungkook's face moved closer in.
You felt your heart stop in your chest almost abruptly. If it wasn't for his face millimeters away from yours, you would think you just had a heart attack.
Your eyelids fluttered closed, waiting for his lips to make contact with yours, but you're met with nothing. Then you feel the warmth of his hand on your thighs disappear, and the same with his body between your legs. You open your eyes to be met with Jungkook lighting up a joint instead of a cigarette. Before you could stop yourself, you pull it out of his mouth with a hard tug.
"What the fuck," Jungkook says, an unreadable expression on his face when he looks at you. "Are you fucking serious?" Your eyebrows furrow as you throw the rolled-up paper somewhere far—jumping down the wall. Your heels click on the pavement as you walk closer to him. The heels didn't do anything for you, as you still had to look up at him to meet his eyes.
"You said you’d stop," your voice cracks like your heart, as you push on his chest.
"It's just weed," Jungkook lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "That's what you said at first then you ended up in my room, high off oxy. So don't tell me it's just weed, Jungkook," you shove him, sending him tumbling backward.
The knock on your window sends your soul leaping out of your body. The sight of your favorite boy outside has your heart beating faster—it's past midnight, so seeing him there sends a different feeling down your body.
“Hi, what are you doing here?” You ask, opening the window to let him climb in. His eyes don’t meet yours as he walks in and sits on your bed, watching you close the window.
“Just wanted to see you,” Jungkook mumbles softly, his voice raspy.
“Well... hi,” you say as you drop beside him on your bed. “Hi,” he says, his eyes avoiding eye contact as he looks down at his twiddling fingers.
“What’s wrong?” You ask, worry picking up as your hand moves to his cheek. His skin is hot under your palm as you move his face to look at you.
The moment his eyes lock with yours, you feel as if the ground disappears beneath you. Jungkook's eyes are unnervingly vacant, the pupils dilated into enlarged black circles.
“What did you take?” Your voice cracks, holding his face in your hands as he slumps into you. “Baby... don’t be mad,” he slurs, his eyes fluttering closed—your hand immediately goes to his heart, finding his heartbeat. This isn’t the first time this has happened; it’s a repeating cycle where he gets high, ends up at your house, and you hear every apology in the book, but it doesn’t mean anything since he’d do it again. The new thing is you don’t yell anymore; instead, you feel the tears start rolling down your face.
“Fuck. Don’t cry. Yell at me, be mad,” Jungkook slurs, trying to reach for you, only for his arm to drop beside him.
“I can’t...” you sob, “why do you do this?” Another sob racks through your body as you pull him into your chest in a hug. His body is limp in your arms.
“Baby... I’m so fucking sorry,” he groans into your chest as you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to calm down. “I love you,” he whispers, and you feel like you can’t breathe as another sob breaks out of you.
“Tell me when you’re sober,” you sniffle, knowing he wouldn’t remember in the morning, laying him down onto your bed and placing the pink covers over his shaking body. You know you’re just feeding into the cycle, but right now all you can do is cry. You prefer him in the safety of your room instead of outside on the streets. So instead, you wrap your arms around him and pray to god he’ll be okay.
“Why do you give a fuck about what I do?” Jungkook scoffs, “it’s none of your business,” he continues, but now it’s your turn to scoff.
“Right, it’s none of my business, asshole,” you throw out.
“You just don’t get it, do you? I’m not good for you,” Jungkook says, his tone much higher than he had anticipated. “I don’t give a fuck, I want you. Don’t you get that,” you frustratedly point your finger into his chest, almost annoyed that he still didn’t get it.
“You want this?” He motions between us, “us fighting all the time, because that’s all we do,” Jungkook scowls, the hard expression on his face has your heart shattering—you almost even hear the cracks as he continues to talk.
“I don’t need you being all up in my business; you’re not my mother,” Jungkook says, letting out a sigh of frustration—rubbing a hand over his face. “I care about you,” you say, looking at him, your voice betraying you as it cracks, again.
“Don’t,” he steps backwards, a shaky laugh escaping him as he avoids meeting your eyes. “Why?” You find yourself asking, making his head snap to look at you.
“Why what?” He asks, brows furrowed as he locks eyes with yours.
“Why did you lead me on then? If you don’t want me,” you ask, wrapping your hands over your waist, feeling vulnerable out in the open as you lay your heart in front of the man you were in love with. He had two choices, break it or carefully pick it up and lock it somewhere safe. You were praying he would pick option two—instead, he decided on the first option.
“What other reason would there be?” Jungkook says, his tone low, stepping closer to you, backing you into the brick wall. Your eyes move to his lips then back to his eyes.
“Maybe because you so easily would open your legs for me. All I have to do is ask,” he spits out. Before you know it, your hand is making contact with his cheek.
“Fuck you,” your teeth clench as you feel a tear stream down your face, “and this is why you shouldn’t want me,” Jungkook clicks his tongue before stepping away from you— a pained expression on his face.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. Come back,” you hurriedly say as your eyes fill with tears, watching him walk away into the dark street.
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roanniom · 1 year ago
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i can’t stop thinking about virgin! eddie being so embarrassed about coming after like 3 seconds and he keeps apologizing and says he wants to make up for it😩😩
Okay for You
Virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, PIV / unprotected sex, uncertainty but it resolves
“Jesus fucking Christ, holy mother of fucking god,” he’s stuttering as you lower yourself down on him. His fingertips dig into the meat of your hips so hard you can most certainly count on bruises tomorrow. He’s a lot to take but it feels good as you sink down, giving him a wincing grin.
“Didn’t know the town satan worshiper was so religious,” you tease, lightly sliding the tip of your index finger up and down the naked expanse of his chest in the shape of a cross. “Do you wanna be absolved of sin or do you wanna cum?
“Fuck, you can’t just–,” Eddie bucks up into you harshly and you laugh. Your laugh gets brighter when you notice the furrow in his brow and the desperation in his eyes.
“Choose sin, Eddie. I know you wanna cum.”
“Quit talking about cumming, I’m gonna fucking bust,” he whines out. You roll your hips, once, twice.
“Cum on the dark side, Eddie. We’ve got pussy.”
You’re straight up giggling at your own absurdity and at how far gone he is in under a minutes. His eyes roll back in his head and his mouth drops open in a heady groan, hips stuttering upwards as he spills deep inside you. You ground your hands on his shoulders and bear down on him so that he feels fully encased and snug through his orgasm.
Eddie, it turns out, is fucking beautiful when he cums. Pink tinges the high points of his cheeks, getting darker around his ears and flushing crimson down his neck to his chest. His wet lips are open as he gasps down air, eyelids shut tight against the intensity of his release.
It takes him a minute, but the second he realizes what’s happened, his hands are off your thighs and covering his face in mortification.
“Oh my god. Oh my god.”
“That good, handsome?” you ask smugly, not quite noticing the tonal shift yet.
“No its…well yeah but I didn’t…that was too…fuck I’m so sorry.” When he finishes rambling he sits up and pulls his hands from his face, revealing an almost teary eyed expression. Your eyebrows shoot up in response.
“Hey, hey! What’s wrong?” you ask, suddenly a lot softer, your hand curling around his forearm to pull him so he stops biting at a nail.
“I just blew my load in 0.5 seconds like a fucking virgin.”
You stare at him for a second before breaking out into hysterical giggles. He looks affronted at first, but as you keep laugh the corner of his mouth quirks a little.
“What?”
“Eddie, you are a virgin,” you clarify, though you immediately amend it. “Were a virgin. I kinda expected it, to be honest.”
Eddie huffs a laugh but sits a bit straighter. He’s still inside you, growing soft, but you like the closeness so you don’t get up just get.
“What? You didn’t think I’d be a mind blowing lover?” he asks and your glad he’s back to making jokes. You shrug.
“You’ve got a big dick, so you’re not that far off to begin with. If we work on your stamina you could be blowing my back out in no time.”
You watch him short circuit as he stares at you and you definitely don’t miss the way his dick twitches inside of you.
“Yeah?” he asks. It’s hesitant. You lean forward and give him a kiss that answers all his questions - bruising and wet and probing and dirty - and his lips chase yours when you pull away.
“You’ll be Fabio in no time,” you promise with a cheeky smile.
“I wanna make you cum,” Eddie replies earnestly. His hands are back on your thighs, smoothing up and down. “I’m so fucking pissed I didn’t make you cum. ‘M sorry.”
“Eddie, don’t be sorry,” you reassure him. You go to kiss him again and he melts, mewling desperately and leaning into the affection. It turns you on so much that this scary, beautiful man is putty beneath you. So much so that you feel yourself growing needy and snake a hand down between you to start playing with your clit.
The friction causes you to squeeze around his rapidly re-hardening cock. He jolts at the feeling.
“What’re you…?” he breaks away to ask you, eyes trailing down to your ministrations. “Oh fuck are you…are you touching yourself?”
“Mhm. You’re making me feel good, Eds. I kinda have to,” you confirm with a chuckle. He watches you for a moment before he slides his hand down your abdomen tentatively.
“Can…can I do it?”
You’re panting a bit at this point. Worked up again from the lack of satisfaction the first time around.
“You wanna?” you ask, kind of hoping he’ll say no so you can get yourself off before he cums prematurely again. You can feel his hips beginning to cant lightly, teasing you with the pressure.
“Please,” he practically whispers and you can deny him so you pull you hand away. What you aren’t expecting is for him to grab it and wrap his lips around your wet fingers. Your eyes blow wide and your pussy clenches around his cock, making him groan around his mouthful.
“Eddie…” you say quietly. He blinks at you before pulling your fingers from his mouth with a pop and reaching down to press his own circles into your clit.
It’s juuuuust off. Another millimeter and you’ll feel great. You roll your hips to try and get him where you need him, but unfortunately the slide of his cock inside of you distracts him, making him freeze up and moan. So you take matters into your own hands, literally, grabbing his wrist and pulling at him so that he’s on the right spot.
“Yeah? Right there?”
He’s seeking genuine reassurance, but your brain hears the questions as dirty talk, making you roll your hips again.
“Fuck. Yeah. Yeah right there.”
You begin grinding on him in earnest while he continues to play with you. After a few moments you grab his free hand to bring it from your hip to grope your breast. His eyes practically bug out of his head.
“Oh wow,” Eddie says.
You want to laugh at how easy he is. But it’s starting to feel really good, and you’re so pent up at this point you decide just to chase it.
“Say something,” you breathe out. Eddie looks confused.
“Like…like what?”
“Just - fuck. I don’t know. Talk dirty.” You’re doing your best not to ride him fully, because you can see the way all of his muscles are starting to tense. You hope that by giving him a task it’ll distract him long enough so you can cum.
“Uh you’re…you’re just like…so fucking beautiful—,”
“Eds,” you let out a frustrated chuckle. “That’s not dirty talk—.”
“So f-fucking beautiful on my cock,” he continues as if you hadn’t interrupted him. “Want you to cum. You’re so wet, bet you need it so bad.”
Well shit.
Recently de-virgin-ed Eddie had found your weakness and it’s condescension. Your pussy squeezes him and you let out a moan that has him grinning through a hiss.
“You need it, huh? Just desperate to cum, huh baby?”
Baby is a new pet name and you love it. You nod and his finger picks up it’s pace on your clit, his other hand following your earlier lead by playing with and tugging at your nipples.
“Need it, Eds.”
“Oh I need it, too, baby. Shoulda happened the first time, but I need you to feel good now, ok?” There’s a sincerity behind the lightest layer of teasing. He can’t really tease fully. Not when he’s on the brink of cumming again as it is.
But the laser focused eye contact he’s locked you in is doing plenty for you.
“Ok.”
“Ok,” Eddie repeats in a hum. His free hand goes to the back of your neck and pulls you down to him so he can grace you with a wet, sucking kiss. He bites your plush lower lip and lets his free hand tighten in your hair.
“Oh god, Eddie,” you whimper against his lips.
“Fuuuuck, I’ve been waiting to hear you like this,” Eddie groans.
You’re basically just cock warming him at this point with a little humping mixed in. But you’re really impatient at this point, so the constant roll of your hips is taking you further than it usually would.
Eddie’s free hand slides from your hair down your back to grab a a handful of your ass. He guides your gyrating hips up and down your cock just that much more and now you’re panting.
“Eddie,” you whine. “I’m close.”
“Holy shit. Seriously?” Eddie asks, his eyebrows shooting up. Clearly shocked.
“Yeah, handsome. You’re fucking me so good.”
You both know it’s an exaggeration. But you’re impatient to cum at this point and eager to praise the beautiful man beneath you. He preens and licks his lips.
“Yeah? Gonna fuck you so good, baby. Wanna make you feel so good. Please, just let me baby. Wanna…oh fuck…please.” He’s rambling at this point and you know he’s close. You bring your hands to either side of his face, framing his jaw.
“Look at me, handsome,” you breathe. You’re so close at this point. His hazy eyes find yours.
“Baby…” he says, eyelids fluttering. He looks just so absolutely destroyed - that’s what ultimately gets you. That this man is losing his damn mind over you but holding out as long as he can so you feel pleasure.
That pleasure washes over you in that moment, along with a cry of Eddie’s name. You collapse over him and cling to him as your pussy spasms around his aching cock. It blows Eddie’s ever loving mind to feel your body reacting to him so strongly. His last bit of resolve snaps like a fucking twig and suddenly he’s clutching you to him and fucking up into you.
“Baby-oh fuck. Baby, yes. God.” He’s gasping and panting and then his hips are stuttering. He goes still, cumming inside you for the second time tonight.
You’re so full. Two loads of cum and his already oversized cock. But even better is how he holds you. Big arms surround you and keep you grounded against his body, even as twitching aftershocks rock him.
It’s a few moments before you’re properly able to do anything other than relish in the feeling of his overwhelming presence. It’s the persistent ache in your muscles that spurs you into action.
“Eddie…I’ve gotta move…”
“Oh fuck, sorry!” He’s quick to release you, letting you peel yourself from his sweaty skin and gingerly climb off of him. Before you can move any further he jumps up. “Wait let me just…”
He’s back in a moment with a wash cloth - warm, you notice in the back of your hazy mind. He lightly cleans you up, missing the heart eyes you direct his way from the sheer gentleness of his movements.
Eddie is so caring. So sweet and bumbling and eager and awkward and you can’t help but beam back at him when he sends a smile your way. He settles back on the bed with you hesitantly.
“Was that…was that okay for you?” he asks.
“I should be asking you that,” you counter, slapping at his arm. He’s having none of it, though, instead grabbing you and pulling you into his arms.
“Well I fucking came twice so I don’t think it’s really a question, baby.”
“Hmmm I like when you call me baby,” you coo. You’re a boneless mass of gooey feelings now, encased in Eddie’s arms. The skin around his eyes crinkles and his dimples deepen.
“Oh yeah? You like being my baby?” You don’t miss the way his flush gets deeper but you relish in the newfound confidence in his voice.
“I love being your baby, Eds.”
~*~
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——
Thank you for reading! Please reblog and comment to let me know what you think
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retroaria · 3 months ago
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꩜ Rin Itoshi: NSFW Alphabet ꩜
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꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜
summary: learn your abc’s with rin! I got a little too into at some points, so certain parts are really long (sorry not sorry)
warnings: aged up to 18+, NSFW (MDNI), afab/fem!reader, I skipped certain letters as I saw necessary. Not proofread sorry
BLUE LOCK M.LIST | enjoy my little freaks ⚽️ -aria
꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜
꩜ A is for Aftercare
Rin is rather timid during aftercare. When he’s fucking you it puts him in a totally different state of mind and then once both of your orgasms thrust him out of that and he sees how fucked out you are he feels kinda guilty. Still very sweet and doting. Makes sure you have water, get cleaned up, and have a comfy place to rest/sleep after for the both of you. He really likes sitting in the bath with you post sex, just holding you in between his legs, rubbing soft circles on your arms. Little words are spoken during this time but it’s as intimate as ever.
꩜ B is for Body Part
Rin really likes his legs. They’re long and strong and they’re probably his greatest weapon. He also happens to be a big fan of your legs. Short or long he thinks they are simultaneously adorable and sexy. Loves watching them curl up on the couch or the bed, entangling with his every night before bed, wrapped around his waist when he carries you or while he’s bullying if cock into you. Likes when you wear knee/thigh high socks or tights and he can see the fat of your leg bulging out of the fabric, he definitely loves fucking your thighs and kissing up and down your legs when they’re thrown over his shoulder. Also likes when you wear pencil skirts or short maxi dresses, he’s turned on and enamored by your beauty all at the same time.
꩜ C is for Cum
Prefers cumming on you over cumming in you (thinks filling you up is hot and will do it on occasion but reaaaally don’t want no babies rn lol). Cumming on your face or thighs gets him hard all over again, watching you lick it from the corner of your mouth, or him getting to lick it off your legs before going down on you. Loves seeing your cum build up around the base of his cock after multiple orgasms, he could cum from the sight of it alone.
꩜ D is for Dirty Secret
Rins dirty secret is that sometimes he hate fucks you but you don’t even know it. Any time you piss him off he HAS to bend you over and make you scream. In his mind he’s punishing you for bothering him, meanwhile you probably just think he couldn’t resist you (which it’s partially that too). He wouldn’t ever want to admit this or how much he loves doing it and putting you in your place because he wouldn’t want you to think he’s hoping to hurt you. It’s really just so he can blow off the steam of being mad or upset with you and feel like he’s teaching you a lesson. “Piss me off and you’re getting used as my personal fuck toy” is what he tells himself.
꩜ E is for Experience
You 100% took his virginity. Don’t get me wrong, he’s popular with the ladies. despite all the fan girls he had he always chose to focus on his career, until he met you! Rin was quick to inform you that he was in fact a virgin, not thinking much of it. He didn’t mention wanting to do anything sexual until about 5-6 months into the relationship. When it finally happened it was a really crazy revelation for him, you definitely had to nurture him through the experience. This was also the first time he said “I love you” and he moaned it out like 3 times as he came after less than 5 minutes of being inside you. After a while he got the hang of it and shifted into the dominant role he now has with you in the bedroom. He recalls his first time with you often and it reminds him of how nice it is to have someone care so deeply for you, someone who you’ve had such intimate experiences with. This man loves you so much.
꩜ F is for Favorite Position
He’s a simple man who loves his girl and as such he loves missionary and watching your face washed over with pleasure while he fucks you. However, for that same reason he also has a thing for fucking you from behind over the bathroom sink, grabbing your hair and forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror while you take his cock. Loves that you can see almost everything he sees. When he’s extra needy at night he likes pulling his boxers down, your panties to the side, and fucking into you from behind while you spoon. Another personal favorite is having you on top while he sits up, both of your chests pressed together as he takes full control of your hips and guides you up, down, and around his cock. Thinks this position is the closest to you he can possibly get and loves feeling your entire body on top of him.
꩜ H is for Hair
Rin is kind of like a hairless cat. He doesn’t grow much hair anywhere on his body, but when he does he makes sure to shave it off around his dick. Thinks it’s annoying and doesn’t like the feeling. He seriously doesn’t mind you having any hair, but when he do shave it feels like a little present for him. He’s very much attracted to the more mature, womanly aspects of you and body hair is just another one of those things that kind of makes you hotter (which he didn’t know was possible)
꩜ I is for Intimacy
Rin is all about intimacy during sex. He doesn’t see the point of it unless it’s intimate (except for when he hate fucks you lol). When he’s turned on its more than just wanting to stick his dick in something, he literally wants to merge his body with yours and feel every inch of you inside and out. He will do everything he can to get his cock as deep inside you as possible, will put his entire body weight on you and wrap his arms around you. When he’s fucking you from behind he’ll pull you up against his chest and press his face into the side of yours while he moans your name, making sure to let you know the entire time how good you make him feel and how much he loves you. “I love you so much baby, f-fuck~god you’re all mine…all mine…all mine”
꩜ J is for Jack Off
Rin only jerks off when he really needs to. He honestly won't ever really do it as long as he has you around. When he's away for games or you're gone on a trip, it's a bit of a different story. He can only really jerk off to you, but doesn't necessarily need pictures or videos of you to do it. he's got a good imagination. Won't ever tell you win he jerks off and denies doing it. He's caught you masturbating before and it's probably one of the hottest things he's ever seen in his life, the image is burned in his brain forever.
꩜ K is for Kinks
Rin isn't a super kinky guy. He just likes having sex with you, that may end up leading to you guys trying out new stuff on occasion, but it isn't a big part of your sex life. He's into some softcore stuff like hands around the neck, hair pulling, spanking, light edging/teasing.
꩜ M is for Motivation
Rin has some oddly specific turn-on's. Watching you do your hair/makeup, seeing you in moonlit lighting, your face when you first wake up in the morning, your wet hair, anytime you cook for him, watching you cheer for him from the bleachers, watching you fold his clothes, when you fidget with his fingers, watching you eat ice cream, when you talk to his other team mates (especially isagi, it’s more of a jealous kind of turn on if you know what I mean). Not all of these make him want to fuck you on the spot but they definitely make him wonder when he’ll be able too next.
꩜ O is for Oral
Rin loves going down on you. He eats you out very gently and lovingly most of the time. He takes his time with it, making sure you feel every stroke of his sharp tongue against your wet folds, every curl of his fingers in your achy cunt, every swipe and nibble against your sensitive clit. When his ego gets the best of him, he eats you out like a feral beast. Slobbering and sucking at every inch of your drenched cunt until you’re screaming his name. not stopping until he’s sufficed with how numb you are from all the times you’ve cum all over his face. He’s the kind of guy that feels bad about shoving his dick in your mouth, making you look like a little whore beneath him, but god does he love the feeling. Rarely asks you to suck him off but if you offer or do it without asking he has zero complaints or objections. Whimpers between every thrust of your soft lips down his hard shaft, nearly tearing up as he desperately tries not to fuck your head in half because of how good it feels.
꩜ P is for Pace
It all depends on how he’s feeling, or whatever you want of course. He has no problem taking his time with you, but of course, he’d also love to ravish you if given the chance.
꩜ Q is for Quickie
He isn’t a fan of quickies. he gets irritated when it’s over too quick and hates that he has to rush certain things. Doesn’t like not being able to take all of your clothes off or do any foreplay.
꩜ R is for Risk
Rin isn’t necessarily risky, but he does get distracted very easily. There are times where he’ll be fucking you in the locker room showers, doing it while someone else is in the house, eating you out on the kitchen counter while your guests are outside. He doesn’t get off on the idea that someone could catch you guys, he simple just forgets and loses himself in you and at that point he couldn’t care less.
꩜ S is for Stamina
As athletic as he is. He can’t keep up for very long, at least not while fucking you. He could eat you out for hours or have you riding him to your hearts content, but if he feels his hips get even the slightest bit sore, he’s tapping out. Will let you use his body as you please after that, so long as he gets to sit back and watch ;)
꩜ T is for Toys
I can’t imagine Rin having very many toys, considering he isn’t a very kinky person. He’d certainly have vibrators for you (which he’ll occasionally let you use to tease his tip, though the overstimulation gets him a little anxious). He might have some kind of cock ring or tenga egg type deal that you got for him but he doesn’t really ever use it, nothing beats the real thing (you) and if he can’t have that his hand will have to do.
꩜ U is for Unfair
He likes edging you occasionally, just because you’re needy reactions send him over the edge. Usually though he isn’t able to go too long without feeling you cum for him.
꩜ V is for Volume
Rin isn’t very loud but he is very vocal. There’s never a moment during sex where a needy sound isn’t escaping past his lips. Whether is heavy breaths, soft whimpers, groans and broken moans of your name, he likes to do it right up in your ear, just for you.
꩜ X is for X-Ray
Our man Rin is packing, he may look a little lanky, but don’t let it fool you. 7-8 inches, his cock isn’t too girthy but it also isn’t skinny. The girth fills in his length just right.
꩜ Y is for Yearning
Rin yearns pretty bad. You’ve got this strange emotional and sexual spell casted on him that makes his feelings of longing for you feel so gut wrenching, it actually makes him really angry when he can’t have you or be around you. He’d never admit it but when he’s away for games and you call to check in he’s palming himself just to the sound of your voice. Doesn’t get himself so worked up that he can’t hold the conversation, but he needs SOMETHING. You cloud his mind constantly except for when he’s on the field but the second he steps off there you are again. He’s wishing he could hug you after every win and collapse in your arms after every loss. Hates having to fall asleep without you in his arms or his dick nuzzled comfortably in your sticky walls
꩜ Z is for Zzz
It’s like you sucked the life out of him through his dick. He is IMMEDIATELY ready to pass out after sex. Once he’s done with all the necessary aftercare, he’s pulling you against him and passing the fuck out.
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huhmiya · 6 months ago
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FORTNITE | chris sturniolo
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pairing: bf!chris x f!reader
summary: you have been watching chris play fortnite for most of the evening, but you were bored scrolling through social media and he wasn't paying much attention to you. so you found a way to get him to notice you.
warning: smut, sub!chris, use of y/n, swearing, p in v, unprotected sex, pet names (baby, ma, darling), blow job, slightly teasing, mommy kink, mention of blood, ass grabbing, cockwarming.
a/n: not my photos, on pinterest. this one is kinda similar to lipstick marks. I hate the new season of fortnite, wbu?
WORDS: 2.8k
huhmiya on wattpad
you - pink | chris - orange | matt - blue
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You were sitting on his bed, scrolling through social media while he played Fortnite with his brother, Matt. You could hear them both speaking to each other through their mics, but Chris's voice was clearer since he was in the room with you, while you can only hear Matt's voice through the mic when he shouted.
The sound of keyboard clicking filled the quiet room as he focused on building and shooting his opponent.
"52," Chris exclaimed louder than necessary, prompting you to glance up from your phone to see that he had hit the opponent.
You observed Chris and his game, noticing his intense focus, while catching a whiff of his invigorating savage cologne from across the room, which made your knees weak.
"Touch grass, you fucking kid!" Chris grumbled after being knocked down by the opponent, leaving Matt to take over.
“Calm down, young man” Matt said after Chris spoke, making him just roll his eyes.
You chuckled quietly, shaking your head and rolling your eyes with a slight smile, finding it funny when Chris’s rages since he comes up with something random.
He didn’t hear your chuckle or anything because he had his mic on. As he watched himself lose two health points every second after being knocked down, he soon perished, eliciting a groan as he realized he had lost all his items.
You observed Chris remove his mic and put it back on once his hair was away from his face. He then turned to you and muted himself to avoid Matt thinking he was addressing him.
"Are you okay ma?" he inquired, eyeing you wearing his shirt with your own pajama shorts. You nodded, unsure whether to speak since he was still muted and you couldn't see him unmute.
He smiled, turned back to his gaming chair, and resumed speaking into the mic. "Could you grab my sniper since you have a free inventory slot?" Chris asked Matt. “Will do”
As the gaming session continued, it eventually reached 1 am. You found yourself bored and craving Chris's attention, but he only glanced at you briefly whenever he died without saying anything.
You place your phone on the bedside and sat up instead of laying down on the bed. You couldn't help but approach him and hug him from behind.
He gasped slightly when you startled him, but his heart rate returned to normal once he realized it was you. "Hello," he mouthed as he continued talking to his brother on the mic. “Hey,” you smiled and ran your hand along his shoulder, feeling the warmth compared to your own hands.
He leaned back in his gaming chair, still engrossed in playing Fortnite. You couldn't resist trailing your fingers along the veins in his arm and not hands since he used his hands for gaming.
"You seem to have a thing for my hands," Chris remarked, making you smile before pausing. Matthew fake gagged, already aware that you were with him, anticipating Chris's flirtatious nature. "No, please, save the flirting for later," Matt chimed in on the mic, his voice audible as you were close by.
"Oh, shut it," Chris said with a small eye roll. You stopped tracing the veins on his arms and just looked at him in amusement. His hands clicked on the keyboard as he focused on shooting a player in the game.
You kept staring at his hands, the PC, and then back at the screen. He continued chatting with Matt until there were only 20 people left.
"The fuck?!" Your boyfriend, Chris, shouted as he was suddenly sniped out of nowhere. Matt tried to build and revive him, but his structures kept getting knocked down.
Chris seemed a bit irritated but didn't do anything. You looked at him again, and he met your gaze. The stress in his eyes softened a bit when he saw you. "Stressed, huh?" you said to Chris, and he nodded with a faint smile.
You brushed his hair out of his face, tucking a few strands behind his ear. He watched you before taking off his mic, readjusting it like a headband again, and putting it back on. “Goofy hairline” you tease making him squint his eyes at you before shaking his head.
He looked at you once more before watching the screen in disbelief as his character perished, with approximately 260 seconds left to get his reboot. Letting out a sigh, he grumbled as he lost his loot once again, although he understood it wasn't Matt's fault.
In the background, Matt discussed the damage he inflicted on the opponent who had taken down Chris.
"Do you trust me?" you whispered, catching Chris off guard with the unexpected question, even though deep down he knew he did. "What?" he muttered before confirming, "Yeah, I trust you..."
A smile played on your lips as you noticed the confusion on his face. Moving closer, you positioned yourself between his legs, causing his heart to quicken its pace, especially when he noticed you pulling your hair up.
Unaware that his mic was still on, Chris whispered urgently, "Y/n... come on."
Although he realized he was still audible, he spoke softly, ensuring Matt wouldn't overhear. "Y/n, I swear," he murmured, reluctantly allowing you to remove his shorts, revealing his half-erect cock in his boxers.
He glanced down at you, biting his lip to stifle any sound as the cold air sent a shiver through his excited member.
"Are you going to say something?" You teased Chris as he was on mic with his brother, causing him to press his lips together before speaking.
"What was that? I was fixing my hea—" Chris was interrupted as you began to pleasure him with kitty licking his tip, causing him to grow harder and struggle to remain quiet.
"I said I'm going to the lavish lair to reboot you," Matt announced, but Chris simply hummed, his attention fixed on you and your hands.
"That's right, baby," Chris murmured, prompting Matt to inquire about his comment, but Chris brushed it off, focusing on you instead.
You increased your pace, then took him into your mouth, eliciting a wide-eyed reaction from him as he covered his mouth in a futile attempt to muffle his pleasure. The sensation of your mouth around him brought him to the brink of ecstasy.
He squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to remain silent for Matt's sake. "D-do you really have to reboot me?" Chris stammered out.
"I'm not suffering alone in a top 5," Matt says as he goes to reboot Chris. He breathes quietly, more in pleasure from the sensation of receiving oral pleasure.
He watches Chris get rebooted, not wanting to play but seeking only pleasure, planning to then engage in intercourse until Chris forgets his own name.
Chris places his hands on the keyboard to resume playing, as you had instructed him to do, but his hands are shaky as he feels himself nearing climax.
"I found a legendary assault rifle for you," Matt announces over the mic, to which Chris expresses gratitude. Chris lets out a slight whimper and looks down at you.
It's evident that he is struggling to keep the fact that he is receiving oral sex from you a secret from his brother. Your tongue swirls around his tip, making his legs tremble slightly as he tries to focus on the game.
"The storm is closing in, it will take five health," Matt informs Chris, who simply hums in response without daring to speak, especially when on the brink of climax.
As Chris continues to play, you gently massage his thighs while pleasuring him. He can't help but moan, a sound that Matt overhears.
“You just moan?" Matt asked, but Chris quickly denied it before another moan escaped. He gave you a warning glance, indicating he was close, although you could already tell by how many times he twitched in your mouth.
Closing his eyes, Chris bit his lip, which bore the marks of his attempts to silence himself. His hands trembled as he grabbed your messy ponytail, making you gag on his member. He was confident that Matt hadn't heard anything, so he made you gag on him once more.
"Can I cum, please, mommy?" Chris murmured, gazing at you, desiring permission to release in your throat, finding it incredibly arousing.
He took a risk by uttering those words, as he had forgotten to mute himself. When you hummed, the vibrations widened his eyes as he came deeply down your throat.
His muscles tensed, and he bit his lip harder, feeling the intensity of his orgasm. In the game, he went afk, needing to muffle his moans once more.
You smirked and licked the veins on his shaft, savoring every last drop of his essence.
You lean back to gaze at him, noticing his vulnerability and weakness in that moment. He was breathing heavily as he tried to catch his breath, still feeling the lingering sensation of your mouth on him even though you had stopped.
Matt asked about his heavy breathing, but Chris simply placed his headset down, forgetting to mute himself.
"You're so beautiful darling," he whispered to you, gently wiping his release off your chin, causing your cheeks to flush as he chuckled.
No longer aroused, Chris shifted slightly so you were no longer between his legs. He lifted you onto his lap, ensuring you weren't causing him discomfort since he wasn't wearing any underwear, but neither of you minded.
"CHRIS!" Matt's voice boomed through the headset, causing both of you to glance at it. Chris let out a slight groan, then put his headset back on. "What?" he responded.
"We're in the top two, I need your help or we'll lose this game. I care about y/n and you, but please just assist me for now, and then you two can resume your playful, cheesy banter," Matt suggested.
Chris adjusted his position, ensuring you were more comfortable on his lap before diving back into the game, which seemed to stretch on forever for him.
"They're over there," Chris announced over the mic, using your head as a makeshift headrest, though you didn't mind. You observed him play alongside Matt, eagerly pursuing an opponent who was attempting to escape.
"Quick, oh my god!" Chris exclaimed as he and Matt gave chase. Matt managed to weaken the opponent significantly, exclaiming, "He's one hit!" Matt said so loudly that his voice carried upstairs to where you were in Chris's room.
In a triumphant moment, Chris landed a headshot with a sniper, prompting him to win the game and smile. "Headshot as well," he declared before embracing you and planting a kiss on your head.
You gazed up at him as he met your eyes, his hand resting on your thigh while you sat on his lap. Despite looking at you, he couldn't resist the desire to be intimate with you or have you ride him until he was overwhelmed with pleasure.
"Matt, I'm going to leave," Chris abruptly announced without saying goodbye. He shut off his computer, then kissed your lips and playfully squeezed your ass while you remained on his lap.
"You're so lucky I love you or else I would be pissed at you, pleasuring me while I'm gaming with my brother," he remarked with a chuckle, before engaging in another passionate kiss with you.
He let out a soft moan before breaking away to gaze at you. "I need you, make love to me until I forget my own name, please, mommy," he pleaded.
You smirked, brushing his hair away from his face, causing him to groan. Feeling his arousal grow beneath you as you sat on his lap, with him only clad in a shirt, you whispered, "Do you want to be taken by mommy, hmm?"
He nodded, his eyes pleading as he kissed your neck, attempting to arouse you in order for you to fulfill his desires. "Please, mommy."
The expression on his face revealed his desire for you, as you locked eyes with his captivating blue gaze, betraying his vulnerability because all he craved was you.
You removed your shirt, revealing your bare chest, catching him off guard as he bit his lip in surprise, but refrained from any complaints. “Holy shit ma," he murmured, fixated on your breasts.
You playfully nibbled on his neck, eliciting soft whimpers of pleasure from him, marking your territory as he embraced you by the hips, undressing you further until both of you stood naked, except for his shirt.
"I belong to you, mommy," he declared, his gaze fixed on you as you withdrew from his neck, leaving behind deep purple marks that would be difficult to conceal even with makeup. "Good boy," you commended.
His desire for physical contact intensified, particularly as your skin grazed teasingly against his sensitive areas.
You removed his shirt with his permission, both eager to consummate your passion as he eagerly surrendered to your lead, yearning for the moment when you would be one, lost in each other's touch until all rational thought faded away.
He struggled to control himself, placing his trembling hands on your hips as he positioned himself between your legs. His desire was solely for you, no one else but you.
As he entered you, a deep moan escaped his lips and he leaned back, resting his head on the gaming chair. You bit your lip in an attempt to stifle your own moans as he stretched you with his considerable size.
"fuck," you whispered to yourself, fighting the urge to cry out in pleasure mixed with a bit of pain as you adjusted to his size.
"You're so good to me, mommy. Your pussy was made for me, I swear," Chris whispered, gazing into your eyes before closing his own as you began to move.
His large hands firmly gripped your waist, urging you to quicken the pace, his movements expertly hitting your sweet spot, eliciting more moans of pleasure from you.
Despite his lips showing signs of strain from his nervous biting, he let out a loud moan as you both reached a peak of pleasure and perfect synchronization.
He paid no mind to the possibility of his brothers hearing him, his focus solely on you and the intense connection between your bodies.
"Mommy," he whimpered, his blue eyes fixed on you in disbelief at the overwhelming pleasure. Despite his usual dominance, the way you made love to him drove him to the brink of madness.
As you continued, he found himself unable to decide where to touch you - whether to hold onto your hips, waist, breasts, or thighs - as his mind was clouded by ecstasy.
His climax was building, but he knew yours had not yet arrived. Despite struggling to contain himself, he couldn't hold back any longer.
"Can I cum, please, mommy?" he pleaded loudly when he felt your walls tightening around him.
You bit your lip, nodding as you quickened the pace. He closed his eyes tightly, gripping the handle of his gaming chair as he released inside you.
You reached your peak with him, your essence mingling and dripping onto the chair as Chris tried to catch his breath from his release.
"Fuck... mommy," he muttered, still breathless. He caressed your cheek, both of you still recovering. "Darling...?" he hesitated.
You nodded but avoided his gaze, intending to stand up from his lap. However, he gently whined and persuaded you to remain seated, still connected to him.
He tenderly lifted your chin to meet his gaze, and as you did, he smiled and kissed your lips. "I love you, baby," he whispered.
"I love you too," you replied, brushing his sweaty hair away from his face, while he was captivated by your eyes in that moment.
A brief silence passed between you before he hesitated and considered asking you a question.
"Can we cockwarm?" he inquired, gazing at you with puppy eyes. You were willing, but mindful of the need to clean up. "Now?" you questioned.
He nodded and embraced you, knowing your preference for aftercare, yet pleading he speaks innocently, "Please, darling?" with a furrowed brow.
You rolled your eyes but relented, agreeing to his request before embracing him. "Only for a few minutes," you stated, and though he didn't promise, you both understood that he would likely prolong the aftercare session.
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sttoru · 1 year ago
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𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄
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⟣ sypnosis. everyone has their own fetishes and things they get turned on by; some things being very random or specific—naturally, your lover has his own. what are random / mundane things you do that he gets turned on by?
⟣ note. uhh kinda a thought i had back in the days of my old account + from this post & now i just wrote it out . . . hope you all enjoy. this post contains smut, proceed at own risk !
⟣ tags. dom!gojo, geto, toji x female reader (separately). headcanons + drabbles. smut. (over)sexualisation. gojo: m! masturbation, implied blow job, dirty talk, reader gets called ‘baby, princess’, teasing | geto: teasing / edging, dirty talk, breast play, dry humping, implied breeding, degradation if you squint, reader gets referred to as ‘wife(y)’ | toji: brat taming, pussy spanking, cunnilingus, teasing, dirty talk, reader gets called ‘doll, slut,’
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GOJO SATORU.
definitely the classical ‘sucking on a lollipop’. satoru himself doesn’t even know why he gets so turned on by the sight of the candy disappearing between your plump lips—it’s not that he likes it when just anybody’s enjoying a lollipop either—only when you do it, it’s a complete turn-on. it’s ridiculous that you have that much power over him honestly.
since satoru’s been dating you, he’s discovered so many things about his body that he never even knew of; new feelings, new emotions, new. . kinks and fetishes. there’s just something about you eating a lollipop (or actually any kind of food that you need to suck on) and he’s already having a difficult time hiding his hard-on. he swears that he’s never found that innocent thing ‘hot’ before;
will try to play it off—try to ignore it, but naturally, fails at this. you can easily see the changes in his expression and actions.
satoru shifts in his seat on the couch, eyes trembling as they didn’t know where to focus; the show playing on the tv or you, who’s next to him, suckling on a lollipop like it was the best meal you’ve eaten.
“is it good, princess?” satoru asks in hopes of distracting his perverted mind from going any further. you turn your head towards him and nod, taking the candy out of your mouth with a faint ‘pop’ sound, “mhm. very.”
it’s like you knew — the way your eyelashes flutter, your glistening lips parted into a sly smile, tongue sticking out to slowly lick the sweetness and circle around its surface to get every last drop of that strawberry taste. just like the way you would tease his tip—
satoru shakes his head as if it’d help erase the mental image of you on your knees between his legs; get yourself together. she’s just eating a lollipop. there’s nothing sexual to that.
but he can’t help it. his body reacts on its own as the blood flows to his crotch, his boxers restrain the growing bulge and his cheeks turn a pink hue. his breathing pattern turns irregular as well; all clear indications of his arousal.
you were too preoccupied with your little snack and the tv-show to notice any of it. the distraction was perfect for satoru—he could palm himself through his shorts and you wouldn’t notice a thing. so, that’s what he decided to do.
his big hand sneak under the waistband, long fingers reaching far enough to stimulate his throbbing cock through the fabric of his underwear. it wasn’t long before you start to notice what was happening down there. satoru was never good at hiding such things from you.
“shit—sorry, baby.” satoru flashes you a weak smile after seeing your eyes land near his groin area, “you’re just so fuckin’ hot. . i couldn’t wait.”
he tilts his head back, warm breath coming out in small gasps whilst his hand motions continue. satoru was shameless at this point. he didn’t care if you knew—all you had to do was sit there, look pretty, have a lollipop in your warm mouth and he’d be able to finish himself off with no problems.
“need some help?” you chuckle, biting down on the ball of candy in your mouth and throwing the empty stick away somewhere on the coffee table.
satoru lets a whimper escape his lips at your suggestion. he wouldn’t say no to that, but it truly felt like he’d cum right in his pants from the idea. he can’t wait to hear those wet, suckling noises again—this time due to you sucking and licking something else than a mere lollipop. something way bigger.
“mhm, fuck, yeah. need ya to suck me off so bad—might cum the moment i feel those lips wrapped ‘round my dick, though. ya mind if i do? just don’t forget to swallow like a good girl, ‘kay?”
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GETO SUGURU
his ‘kink’ is simple: just you in an apron does unspeakable things to that man. suguru’s always knew that you’d be the one he marries, however every time you put on an apron to cook, the desire to make you his wife intensifies ten fold. you look absolutely adorable in it—standing near the kitchen counter whilst moving back and forth in your pink apron.
another thing about that which turns suguru on even more, is when he finds you in the kitchen after spending the night together, wearing only panties, his shirt and the apron. ‘easy access’, is what he likes to call it. his arms would find their place around your waist, clothed dick pressing and grinding against your ass from behind. next thing you know he’s pushing your panties to the side and fucking you good.
probably will dirty talk right into your ear whilst giving you that good, early sex session in the morning.
suguru sucks on your earlobe and digs his teeth in the soft flesh before pulling away, hands still feeling up your tits under the apron, hips deeply rubbing against the fat of your ass—just what you expected to happen once you put that apron on. his favourite one at that.
“look at you,” suguru purrs against your nape whilst leaving small pecks across the skin, “you’re going to be such a good wife and mother one day, sweetheart. and i want to be that lucky man that gets to call you his wife. .”
his words and touches were merely used as a way to divert your attention from your cooking. if suguru wanted to take you right then and there, he would. and he knew you’d allow it. you always do; you turn putty in his hands whenever he’s so loving like this in the early mornings.
“mngh, yes, please.. wan’ you so bad, suguru.” your voice is a quiet whisper as you bite back a moan or two. you couldn’t hold on any longer as the endless grinding made you crave for more. you push your ass back on the hard bulge you felt, gaining a grunt from the man behind you.
“impatient, hm? poor you.” suguru sighs before trailing two fingers downwards, pulling your panties aside while his other hand discards his boxers. he rubs the tip against your wet entrance, slipping the head in before pulling it back out to rub the mixture of fluids over your cunt—not yet giving you what you want, “you know, i was also thinking about how good you’d look in an apron while pregnant. with a little belly sticking out.”
the extended edging and dirty talk made your brain stop working as it turned all thoughts into lustful ones. all of them revolving around suguru and the pleasure you’re about to receive. you knew he was just giving you a small taste of what other nasty stuff he’s going to whisper in your ear later on. you can’t count how many times suguru’s made you cum from simply his lewd words and smooth voice.
“pl—” before you could start to beg again, suguru pushes his entire length in, the girth of his cock making you grip onto the counter like you’d fall over if you don’t. you bend over a bit and let your tummy rest against the cold surface.
“so submissive.” suguru whispers under his breath, watching you arch your back after he starts to pump into you. his hand trails across the knot made from the laces of the apron, which rests on your lower back. suguru twists the material around his index finger before firmly pulling you back by it—back flush against his chiseled chest, “so obedient. .”
it was only a matter of time before his slow thrusts turn into a quick and rough pounding. you could tell by the way his breathing was turning shallow.
“what do they associate those terms with nowadays? ah, yes, ‘wifey’ material. i feel like that describes you perfectly. fuck—i really can’t wait to make you my wife, put a baby in your tummy and start our own family. you’re going to look so beautiful pregnant. i’m sure of it.”
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FUSHIGURO TOJI
gets extremely turned on by you getting mad at him. toji found this out when you were upset by his habit of leaving laundry on the floor. he remembers how you stood there in front of him, blocking the tv from his sight, hand on your hip, finger pointing at his chest with that cute little frustrated expression plastered on your face. for some reason, it made his dick twitch in his pants. the urge to fuck that scowl right off that pretty face of yours was undeniable.
toji would be so calm whilst you’d almost lose your mind at his laid back, or actually, lazy demeanour. like he isn’t taking you seriously at all when you’re mad (he actually isn’t; his mind is too busy thinking about the positions he’s gonna have you in later that day).
idle ‘mhm’s’ and ‘yeah’s’ are all you’re going to get out of toji if he’s seeing you look at him with that adorable pout again—that almost unnoticeable pout you have when you’re upset about something.
“honestly, toji. you could’ve washed this yourself instead of waiting on me to finish the dishes and then put your dirty cup and plate in the sink.” you sigh and reluctantly wash his dirty utensils as well, even though you were in the midst of scolding him.
“it’s really annoying, you know? when i think i’m done doing the dishes. . . .” bla bla bla bla.
well, that was moments ago—you trying to talk some sense into toji. somehow it ended up the other way around; you being put on your back on the nearby table, legs on either side of toji’s head, his tongue lapping up your leaking fluids, his rough fingers digging in the fat of your thighs.
“really thought ya could jus’ talk to me like that without any consequences?” toji sighs, his deep breath hitting your cunt making your muscles tense up, your thighs trying to close around his head. a harsh slap lands right near your clit which causes your hips to jerk up in surprise;
“aht aht,” toji scoffs and disregards any contact with your dripping pussy, leaving it be for the time being, “keep your legs open f’me. all the way or ‘m leaving ya hanging right here.”
you cooperate immediately and spread your legs again whilst your fingers tug at toji’s black locks. his sharp eyes travel from your cunt to your face and he exhales through his nose, almost in a mocking, breathy chuckle;
“bet y’re gonna sulk ‘n pout if i get up and leave again, eh?” toji grins and is almost tempted to do just what he said, simply to see you pout and get mad at him once more. he wants to play that game of patience, but he knows he’ll come out victorious after every round. you’ll be the first one to beg him for forgiveness for your behaviour.
“please, baby— ‘m sorry. sorry.” there it was. you caved in, your frown nowhere to be seen as your face was overridden by desire and need for the man kneeling before you. toji was too good at letting you forget all about your previous sour mood—his tongue working its magic on you was enough to put you under a calming spell.
“mhm. that’s what i thought.” toji hums and smacks your cunt again. this time it was done purely for his own satisfaction; to hear how wet you’re for him, how good he’s been eating you out for the past couple minutes. but most importantly—to make sure you knew who held all power in the end.
toji leans his head down and lets the tip of his tongue glide across your vulva, circling right around your entrance to drive you insane. you could feel him smirk against your cunt in victory;
“ya know, i should make you angry more often just to turn you into a fuckin’ mess afterwards. mhmmm—wanna see that cute tough act ya put on fall apart the moment i put my dick in y’r cunt. gonna have you go from acting like a brat to a slut in under a minute, you jus’ wait and see, doll.”
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alltheirdamn · 8 months ago
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DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader
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PART 2
Summary: After a summer away, you decide to pay a visit to your favorite mechanic. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 3.7k Warnings: Pre-outbreak (AU), mechanic!joel, car sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, squirting, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, light nipple play, unprotected piv sex, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (darlin', babydoll, cowboy), cock riding, rough sex, creampie, joel once again being irresistible and disgustingly sweet, light sprinkle of fluff, porn with no plot (kinda) A/N: I have zero self-restraint and couldn't stop thinking about mechanic!joel soo... you could say, it was so nice she had to come twice ;)
PART 1 | Masterlist | Ko-fi
It wasn’t like you were actually planning on pulling off the highway to head toward that mechanic shop… except you totally were. Summer came and went, and after a few months spent in Tallahassee, it was time to go home. You weren’t in a rush this time, though, so you could afford a quick pit stop at a small mechanic shop. Nothing needed to be fixed in your car, but maybe you’d pop a screw loose just for the hell of it.
Pulling into the familiar garage, your heart thumped in your ears as you threw the car in park and nearly ran inside. The waiting room was disappointingly empty minus a handsome man standing behind the counter…one that wasn’t Joel.
His black curls were slicked back, and with just a white tank top and flannel on, you could tell he was built just like Joel. At your sudden entrance, he glanced your way, giving the cigarette in his hand a quick flick over the ashtray on the counter he leaned on.
“Can I help you with somethin’, miss?” He asked. He had that same drawl in his voice as Joel did.
Taming down your flyaways from the humidity, you walked over to the counter with a friendly smile. You didn’t miss how his eyes did a once-over on your body.
“I was just coming through town, thought I’d stop in to say hi to Joel,” you explained.
He took another drag of his cigarette, the cherry burning at the bottom. After a long inhale, he puffed out an air of smoke, filling the space with that stinging smell of nicotine. You weren’t completely opposed to the smell, and you most definitely appreciated him blowing it to the side so that it didn’t creep up into your nose.
“Joel’s just up at the mini-mart grabbin’ some beers. M’sure he’ll be back soon,” he shrugged. “I’m Tommy by the way, his brother.”
He extended his free hand, and you met him halfway to give him a friendly handshake, introducing yourself as well. Tommy donned that same lopsided grin as Joel; it must be that Southern charm and hospitality.
“So,” he drawled. “How y’know my brother?”
You shifted your weight between legs, trying to come up with some stupid lie to explain how you did know him. Short answer: he fixed your car. Long answer: he gave you the best orgasms of your life. 
“I, uh, came through town a few months ago to get my car fixed, and—.”
“Hey, Tommy! Come help me with the beers, man!” A voice shouted from the side door.
Tommy gave you an apologetic grin, rounding the corner to meet his brother outside. You leaned against the counter, drumming your fingers against it as you waited for them to reemerge. Tommy was walking back through the door moments later, a six-pack of beers in hand and Joel in tow. 
“C’mon man, I told you no smokin’ in the damn shop,” Joel grumbled, smacking the back of Tommy’s head.
Tommy only laughed at his brother's annoyance, walking around the counter to give Joel a clear view of you standing there. As his eyes set on you, Joel stopped in his tracks, a wild grin splitting across his face.
“Well, would y’look at that,” he beamed. “If it ain’t my favorite customer.”
A warmth crept up your skin, your cheeks blushing at his words. He approached you, leaning against the counter to mimic your stance. He still wore that worn-down black t-shirt, the fabric thinned out and stretching over his muscles. You wondered how long those scratches stayed on the skin of his back after you both…
“Ohhhh,” Tommy interrupted, forcing your eyes to tear away from Joel’s. “You’re the girl that’s got my brother out $500!”
Snapping your head back to Joel, you smacked his bicep in embarrassment.
“You told him?!” You shrieked.
Joel doubled over in laughter, clutching the arm you had just whacked.
“Calm down, darlin’. I ain’t ever think I’d see you again! S’all in good fun.”
You buried your face in your hands, letting out a small groan. Of course, he’d tell his fucking brother about you; the girl that didn’t have any fucking money for a car and slept her way out of the debt. You could bet Tommy probably didn’t believe Joel when he told him the story, either.
“Aw, c’mon now babydoll,” Joel crooned, peeling your hands away from your face. “I ain’t meant no harm in tellin’ the story.”
“He hasn’t told another soul,” Tommy said. You glanced over to see him raise a hand in defense. “Scouts honor.”
You smack Joel again for good measure, eliciting a howling laugh from Tommy on the other side of the counter. 
“Tommy, I’ll close up the shop tonight,” Joel said, raising an eyebrow at his brother. “Why don’t you head out and grab Sarah for me? M’sure I’ll be back in time for the game.”
“Fuckin’ better be,” Tommy tossed back. “Ain’t tryna lose my money to you again.”
“Seems like he needs that money,” you chimed in, rolling your eyes.
This time Joel shoved at you playfully, a hearty laugh rumbling through his chest. 
“Now she’s got jokes!” He teased. 
“Ha ha very funny,” Tommy said, scooping up the six-pack into his arms. “Nice meetin’ ya miss. Don’t run up your tab too high while you’re here.”
Tommy was just as good with the jabs as you were, so you threw him a quick smile and wave before he slid out the back door and disappeared. With only Joel and you left, that nervous feeling crept back in. 
“Got another tire blown out or did y’miss me?” Joel teased.
“Don’t let your ego get too big, cowboy,” you said. “I’m just rollin’ back through town.”
“Pretty sure I’m big everywhere, babydoll, but y’already know that.”
Joel took a step towards you, twisting a strand of your hair through his fingers. You could see the midday sun reflecting in his brown eyes, making them sparkle the longer he stared. Your gaze flicked down to his lips, that pouty bottom one quipped up into a slight grin. 
“You’re just so sure of yourself, aren’t you?” You laughed.
“Sure enough to know that pretty pussy is just soakin’ your underwear right now,” he drawled. 
He grabbed your hips, pinning you to his chest with an arm braced around your back. Dipping his hand between your bodies, he slid a finger over the seam of your zipper, teasing your already throbbing clit. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feather-like touch of his finger, your body aching for him.
“Fuckin’ knew it,” he whispered in your ear.
Your breath hitched as he popped open the button on your jeans and tugged down the zipper. Slipping two fingers between your skin and underwear, he drew lazy circles over your clit, watching you with rapt attention as you tried to stifle a moan.
“Mhmm,” he crooned. “Been dreamin’ ‘bout this pussy ever since you left town, darlin’.”
“Yeah?” you exhaled, rolling your hips against his fingers as they worked faster.
“Ain’t ever had my cock so wet.” Joel pressed a kiss against your neck as his fingers slid between your wet folds and teased your entrance. 
“Christ, Joel,” you exhaled. “Maybe we should take this somewhere else.”
Joel glanced around the empty waiting room and shrugged.
“No one’s here, darlin’.”
“Your shop windows are glass,” you argued. “Anyone can see us if they drive by.”
Teasing your wet folds, Joel slid a finger inside you, slowly curling it in an attempt to shut you up—which did work, unfortunately. You leaned into his broad chest, your head resting on his sternum as he continued the movement in slow strokes. 
“Joel,” you whimpered, clutching the fabric of his shirt.
“What, babydoll?” He asked innocently as if he didn’t fucking know what he was doing to you.
“Take me to the garage,” you breathed. “Please.”
“Only ‘cause you asked so nicely, darlin’.”
Pulling his hand out of your jeans, Joel bent to scoop you up, drawing your legs around his waist to carry you out of the waiting room. You wound your arms around his neck, dipping your head down to kiss along the stubble of his jawline. His hands squeezed your ass as he walked you both through the door to the garage, situating himself at the workbench. Still positioned in his lap, you wasted no time and pulled him in for a long, passionate kiss. You could feel the smile on his lips as he kissed you back, his hands roaming up and down your body as you devoured one another. 
“Jesus, babydoll. Y’really did miss me, huh?” he muttered against your open mouth.
“Maybe I did, cowboy.”
Grinding your hips on his lap, you felt the strain of his cock beneath the worn-out fabric of his work jeans. Joel nipped at your bottom lip, groaning as you circled your hips harder. 
“Easy now, darlin’,” he warned. “Don’t wanna ruin my jeans like some middle school boy.”
You laughed and doubled down on your movements against his cock, each drag of your body forcing him to tense up. Joel’s hand came up to cup your breast through your bra, squeezing hard enough to make you whimper. 
“Y’gonna be a good girl for me, babydoll?” he questioned.
You snuck a glance at his face, seeing his pupils blown wide with lust. Nodding quietly, you stilled your movements and focused on the feel of his fingers pinching your hardened nipple through the fabric. Your jaw went slack as he toyed with you, coaxing humiliating sounds from your lips with each twist.
“Hmm,” he mused, leveling you with a dangerous stare. “That's how I get you to behave, huh?”
“Joel,” you whined breathlessly. 
“Use your words, babydoll.”
“I need you to fuck me,” you begged, leaning into his touch.
“Where’s those manners, darlin’?” he taunted.
Giving him the biggest pouty face you could muster, you pushed your bottom lip out and sealed the deal by batting your eyelashes at him.
“Please, cowboy?” 
Joel rolled his eyes and chuckled, bringing his hand down on your ass to deliver a sharp slap. Hoisting you back up, Joel spun your body back against the wall of the garage, shoving your shirt up as he pressed you against it. He wasted no time in dragging down your bra, ravishing your skin with kisses and bites, leaving a trail of marks down your breast and sternum. You ran your hands through his curls, feeling the humidity of the air dampen them the longer you both stayed in the garage. Neither of you seemed to mind, though; you were so wrapped up in each other there was no telling of what was happening in the outside world. 
He took your nipple between his teeth, biting it softly and rewarding your behavior with another trail of kisses back up your chest and neck. He mumbled a slew of curses under his breath as you mewled against his touch, his mouth hot against the underside of your jaw.
“Quite the mouth on you, cowboy,” you teased. 
“Y’already know what this mouth can do, darlin’. Don’t tempt me.”
“Why don’t you remind me?” you asked, a smug grin teasing your lips.
“Fuck, babydoll,” he groaned.
Setting you back down on your feet, Joel nodded towards his black truck, silently instructing you to move. With the truck bed already down, you did a little hop and shimmy onto it, settling back against the warm metal. Joel grabbed a clean towel off his workbench and stalked towards you with a devilish grin.
“Afraid to get your truck messy?” You smirked.
“I already know you’re gonna have the entire bed of it soaked in damn near a minute,” he responded.
Letting impatience get the best of you, you worked yourself out of your jeans and underwear, slingshotting it directly at Joel’s chest as he neared the edge of the truck. Catching it with one hand, he pocketed the black lace effortlessly, offering you the towel to situate yourself onto. Sliding your body into the towel, you dropped your legs open, giving Joel a perfect view to ogle at.
“Like what you see, cowboy?” You giggled, trailing your fingers down your abdomen and towards the wetness between your thighs. 
“Damn right I do, darlin’.”
Joel pressed up against the truck bed, bending over to kiss down your stomach where your hand laid against your aching clit. He brushed his lips over your fingers before drawing them into his mouth, sucking on them gently. Your breath hitched as your eyes connected, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief. Joel pulled your fingers from his mouth and guided your hand through his hair.
“Give them curls a tug if y’need it, darlin’.”
Then his mouth was on you. Devouring you. Lapping at you. Every flick of his tongue sent shockwaves through your body, your veins coursing with an indescribable need to explode. Joel didn’t let up for a single second, his tongue and jaw working at you until your thighs quaked around his neck. He was pushing you closer and closer until that coil inside your stomach was ready to snap. You cried out as he flattened his tongue against your clit, putting pressure at just the right spot to make you see stars.
“Right there… oh my God, Joel,” you whispered, panting as you felt that build-up in your body begin.
With another long draw of his tongue and the brush of his nose against the sensitive bud of your clit, that coil snapped. Hot, warm liquid gushed out of you, covering the entirety of his open mouth and chin. Joel groaned as he continued lapping at you, the disgusting sound of your wet cunt drowning out the heartbeat thudding in your ears. Aftershocks of your orgasm coursed through you, your body pulsing with pleasure with each press of his mouth against you.
You tugged at his curls as he instructed, and Joel lifted his face to reveal what a dripping mess he had become. Your cheeks reddened at the sight of his hooded eyes and wild smile; the look of sheer bliss painting his features. Exhaling, you sagged against the metal of the truck, your chest rising and falling as you tried to regain some semblance of control.
“God, I sure did miss this pussy,” Joel hummed, nudging his nose against your dripping cunt. 
You squirmed against his face, too afraid another orgasm would surge through you and drench him again—which he obviously wouldn’t be opposed to. But you needed his cock buried inside you, now.
“Joel, climb up here,” you said, patting the metal beside you.
“What if I ain’t ready yet?” he argued, kissing the inside of your thighs.
“Joel,” you demanded.
“Alright, alright,” he sighed. “Don’t get all impatient on me now, darlin’.”
Hauling himself onto the truck bed, he crawled over your limp body, kissing up the side of your neck. Using what little strength you had left, you maneuvered yourself over him, flipping you both until you straddled his lap. Joel’s hands came up to your bare hips, his thick fingers squeezing and kneading the supple flesh as you rolled against his hardened cock.
“Gonna let me ride you, cowboy?” You asked.
“Fuck, darlin’,” he groaned, his eyes rolling back. “Boutta be the best ride of my goddamn life.”
Giving him a wink, you hurried to undo his belt and jeans, letting his cock spring free. Christ, you forgot how big it was. Joel chuckled at the way you stalled a moment, bucking his hips upwards in an attempt to get you moving.
“Calm down, cowboy,” you warned. “I’m gettin’ there.”
Wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, you positioned it at your entrance, slowly sinking down until your clit brushed against the curls at the base. Even dripping wet, you were forced to stretch around him, the fullness leaving you breathless for a moment. 
“Y’look so pretty like that, babydoll. S’fuckin full of me,” Joel hummed.
You whimpered at his words, moving your hips up and down finding the right tempo that sent you both into oblivion. The press of your knees against the metal wasn’t the most comfortable thing, but you could ignore it so long as he enjoyed himself. You picked up the pace, your body bouncing up and down as you forced his cock deeper inside you. Joel’s jaw went slack as he watched you, enraptured with the way you moved above him. Your bodies slapped together with each drop of your hips, and his fingers flexed against your waist as he pushed and pulled your body until you were grinding against him. 
“There ya’ go, babydoll,” Joel murmured. “Feel how deep I am?”
You only gave him a pathetic moan, letting his hands guide your body as you pulsed around his cock. You were so fucking full, the tip of his cock spearing up into you with each drag of your hips. Snaking a hand down your body, your fingers found your clit, drawing desperate circles as you tried to chase the orgasm threading through your muscles. 
“Fuck,” Joel groaned. “You’re just desperate to cum again, huh?”
“Yes, Joel,” you whined, putting more pressure on your clit as he drove himself deeper.
“S’fuckin’ pretty like that,” Joel exhaled. “Gonna drench me again, huh? Let’s see it, babydoll, cover me with it.”
Your mouth opened with a soundless cry, your cunt flexing around his cock as another orgasm ruptured through you, soaking your thighs and seeping into his jeans. Hauling you down against his chest, Joel positioned his knees upward, pistoning his hips against yours at a violent pace. 
“Fuck!!” You sobbed as more liquid gushed out of you, the strength of your orgasm amplified at this angle.
“Good fuckin’ girl. That’s it, c’mon,” Joel praised, his lips pressed against your ear. “Keep goin’, babydoll. I know y’can give me more.”
“I—I can’t!” You stammered.
Your orgasm wouldn’t let up, though. Joel’s cock drove into you with such force, that you continued soaking him over and over again despite your wailing protests. Joel continued praising you and talking you through each ripple of your orgasm, hushing you as you cried harder. 
“Just like that, babydoll. Shh… Doin’ so fuckin’ good for me.”
Joel kept a brutal pace, wrecking into you as he chased his own release. His hips snapped up one final time before he was spilling into you with a choked groan falling from his lips. 
Falling limp against his body, you stared at the sides of the truck bed with glazed eyes. Tremors still wracked through your body as you settled into his embrace, his hand rubbing soft circles over your shoulders. Craning his head to the side, Joel captured your lips in a soft kiss, his tongue dancing over yours slow and sweet. 
“Doin’ alright, babydoll?” he asked, breaking away from your lips.
You nodded mindlessly, too blissed out to form words. Nestled into his body, you let your fingers wander up his bicep and over his shoulder. Joel placed a soft kiss at the crown of your head, his muffled words lost in your hair.
“Hmm?” You asked.
“S’nothing,” he whispered. “Just enjoyed the ride, that’s all.”
You rested your head on his sternum, giving him a questioning look. 
“Sounded like you said something else,” you said, cocking a brow.
Joel huffed a laugh, his head falling back against the metal with a soft thud.
“I don’t know, darlin’. Guess I kinda like you.”
“Guess I kinda like you too, cowboy.”
Rolling off of him, you situated yourself against the side of the truck bed, resting your legs over his stomach. Joel’s hand kneaded into the tight muscles of your calves, working at the knots in your legs. His head leaned to the side to catch a glimpse at you, a smile breaking across his face.
“How long are y’staying in town?” he asked.
“I was only passing through,” you sighed.
His smile faltered a moment, that glimmer of hope flickering out in his eyes. Suddenly, the thought of leaving didn’t sound so nice.
“Why don’t y’stay the night?” he offered. “Got myself a big enough bed to sleep in, babydoll.”
“How much is it gonna cost me?” You teased, rubbing your foot over the softest part of his lower stomach.
“I’m thinkin’ a good blowjob,” he mused.
“Whatever you want, cowboy. Count me in.”
You spent a few moments in harmonious silence, basking in the circumstances’ simplicity. After a while, you found yourself climbing off the truck in search of your jeans and underwear. Joel worked his way down, too, stuffing his cock back into his pants and gathering the damp towel off the truck bed.
“You still have my underwear,” you grumbled, shaking out your jeans to slide into.
“And I’m gonna keep ‘em, darlin’,” Joel said, grabbing you by the waist to reel you in for a kiss. “Need me a lil’ souvenir.”
“You’re unbelievable,” you chuckled.
Foregoing underwear, you stuffed yourself back into your jeans and followed Joel to the passenger side of the truck, where he had the door already propped open for you. Helping you in, he reached over to secure your seatbelt, kissing your cheek softly before shutting the door and walking to the driver's side.
Turning the key in the ignition, Joel glanced over at you, his eyes roaming over your messy hair and rosy cheeks. 
“Y’sure are beautiful, babydoll. Wish I could keep ya here,” he sighed.
You rested your chin in your hand, leaning over the center console. 
“I don’t know, cowboy. Your negotiating skills are pretty damn good. Might talk me into staying with all those sweet words.”
“Oh yeah?” he perked up. “Y’know you still got a hefty bill to pay off.”
“Shit, you’re right,” you agreed. “I might have to stay a while to settle that debt.”
Joel cracked a smile, lifting up the console to haul you closer to him. Backing out of the garage, he navigated the truck onto the main road and towards wherever home was for him. Settling into his side, your fingers danced over the zipper of his pants as you waged your brows at him.
“Think I should start paying off that debt now?” You asked.
“I ain’t arguing with that, babydoll,” Joel grinned.
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rafesaddiction · 1 month ago
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It’s not cheating when you’re paying your boyfriend's debt – Rafe Cameron x Reader
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Summary: You want to spend the day with your boyfriend, have a romantic date on a yacht. You certainly don’t want Rafe Cameron showing up on that yacht. You absolutely don’t want to spend that day with him instead. And you under no circumstances want to moan when he touches you and whimper when you need more.
Concept: mistaken identity, just a bet
Warnings: mdni! – smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), sex (p in v), (kinda) dubcon, cheating (reader cheats on her boyfriend), kook!reader, angry!reader, smug!rafe
Word Count: 4.5k
a/n The new season of obx is about to start and I’m back. Have fun reading and please leave a comment or reblog as your feedback means the world to me.
No taglist for this since I don’t know if you still want to read what I write. Tell me and I’ll make a new list.
“What’s he doing here?” You glared at the tall guy in a white shirt, which was hugging his muscular torso a little bit too well.
A day on a yacht, that was what your boyfriend had promised you. Just the two of you. A romantic trip. A date. You were in desperate need of some quality time with your boyfriend. You hardly saw each other lately. Not just college and work kept you occupied, but he also spent a lot of his time with his friends rather than with you alone.
And one of these friends was standing on the deck of the yacht: Rafe Cameron, wearing that white too well-fitting shirt and an unreadable expression on his face. His eyes were hidden behind shades, so you couldn’t see what he was looking at – except from the tilt of his head you could swear that he was looking you up and down. And suddenly you became very aware that you were only wearing a bikini and a flimsy cloth as a makeshift skirt around your hips. You crossed your arms in front of your chest – to the effect that instead of covering your breasts as intended, you inadvertently pushed them up – and you could swear you saw the corners of Rafe’s mouth twitch.
You frowned and turned towards your boyfriend standing next to you and demanded an answer. “Why is he here?”
But instead of answering, he ran his hand through his hair and then looked at Rafe, who stepped closer and started talking, so you had to look at him again.
“You haven’t told her?” His gaze was now on your boyfriend.
“Haven’t told me what?” Your glare directed at your boyfriend, you pressed your hands on both sides of your waist.
Your boyfriend broke a sweat. Literally. You could see the beads on his forehead and running down his shoulders – like you, he was only wearing his bathing things: pastel green board shorts in his case.
Rafe took off his sunglasses, holding them in one hand, he patted your boyfriend’s shoulder with his other hand.
“Oh boy, this is awkward”, he said and from that smug grin on his handsome face you knew that he didn’t feel awkward at all.
Your boyfriend, avoiding now both your angry gaze and Rafe’s somewhat amused look, opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by Rafe who directly spoke to you. “I’m here to collect a debt he owes me.”
“What debt?” You frowned again – or still – and looked back and forth between your boyfriend and Rafe.
“He lost a bet,” Rafe said in a matter-of-fact tone, but with that little glint of mischief underneath. Of course, he was enjoying this. A guy like Rafe had fun in ridiculing others. But you couldn’t hold it against him, not this time. This was all your boyfriend’s doing. You knew how he was. You directed your angry glare at your boyfriend and lunged at him with the little backpack you had brought. He ducked under the blow. “What have you done? You promised not to do that shit again!”
You were furious. This wasn’t the first time. It wasn’t so much about the money your boyfriend lost – you were both from rich families and had not to worry about that – but it was about his being irresponsible. And he had promised he would change. Of course, he hadn’t.
You took a deep breath. After giving your pity excuse of a boyfriend a deadly glare, you looked at Rafe. “How much does he owe you?”
“You willing to pay his debt?”
“Yes.” You swore to yourself that this would be the last time, but you knew it was much easier if you just paid it and he’d pay you back at some point, instead of him having to ask his mother for the money. You just wanted to get it over with and get Rafe off the boat and enjoy your damn romantic date.
A grin appeared on Rafe’s face as he took you in. A devilish grin.
“Then that’s settled,” he said, not taking his intense blue eyes from you.
“I’m not sure—", your boyfriend finally found his voice again but was cut short by Rafe.
“You heard her, she said she wants to pay the debt.”
Rafe put his arm around your boyfriend’s neck, ignored his stammering and led him into the cabin. “C’mon, let’s get this done with.”
“Here.” You pushed your backpack into your boyfriend’s hands before they left. “Use the venmo account on my phone.” You avoided his pathetic look and stalked over to the sun lounger that was more like a queen-sized bed. You sat down and picked up the glass from the small table next to it. Sniffing at it, you scrunched your nose. Rafe must have helped himself to a glass of whiskey while he had been waiting here. You put it down again. Craning your head to the cabin you yelled, “And get me something decent to drink,” though you weren’t sure your boyfriend had heard you behind the closed door.
You lay down on your back, put on the shades you had stuck in your hair, and you tried to calm down and enjoy the warm sun on your skin and listen to the sound of the ocean. After some time, you could hear the engine and the yacht was moving. “Finally,” you mumbled to yourself as you rolled onto your stomach to expose your back to the sun.
Finally, you were alone with your boyfriend on the yacht. You were still angry at him, but you tried to shove that feeling down. After all, he had apparently put some effort into making this date something special. The yacht he hired was amazing. And this lounger was really comfortable. You closed your eyes and could feel yourself relax as the boat kept moving steadily.
After some minutes of pure peacefulness, you felt a presence next to you, maybe you even felt a shadow on your skin warmed by the sun.
“I hope you got me a drink.” Without lifting your head or opening your eyes, you just extended your hand. And, to your surprise, a moment later, you could feel the cool glass in your hand. Then fingers brushed yours and you had to catch your breath as an electric impulse shot through your body just from that little touch. Your fingers still tingled as you moved the glass to your face, bracing yourself on your elbows to take a sip. And it tasted amazing. You licked your lips and took another sip, enjoying the fruity taste, not too sweet, but very refreshing.
“That’s good,” you mumbled as you placed the glass on the table.
You could swear you heard a low chuckle, but it might have just been the waves.
You lay down again. Your arms beside you, hands next to your face, which you rested on the soft cushion.
You felt the mattress of the lounger dip, assuming that your boyfriend must have sat down next to you. There wasn’t much room on the side where he was sitting, but you didn’t scoot over, after all, he could just walk around to the other side. But he didn’t get up to do that, neither did he ask you to move over. Instead, you felt something cool and smooth on your shoulder blades. You inhaled as you felt big hands touch your naked skin and rub what from the smell of it must have been the sunscreen from your backpack. You couldn’t help it. Though you were still mad at your boyfriend, you liked how considerate he was. You had put on sunscreen before leaving but that must have been at least an hour ago. Your eyes closed, you enjoyed the sensation on your skin. Warm hands caressing over your shoulders, along your arms, down your back. You couldn’t remember when the last time was that your boyfriend had given you a back massage – or if it really had felt that good. His hands felt a bit rough, the touch strong. But that was exactly what you needed to relax, to melt under his touch.
You let out a moan in delight. – And there it was, that uncharacteristic low chuckle again. This time it came unmistakably from him as you could feel his breath on the back of your neck, as he was leaning over you, pressing his palms onto your back. His hands moved to your sides, and they held you at your waist, the thumbs pressed into your flesh. A shiver ran through your body.
The hands moved down and over your butt, rubbing the sunscreen even under the fabric of your bikini. The strong hands travelled down the back of your thighs, and up on the inner thighs. The pressure the hands applied grew and your hips lifted, just a bit, to meet the touch.
The hands palmed your butt cheeks, and kneaded them, squeezed them and you exhaled another moan. Your ass fit just perfectly into those rough hands, you just noticed. The hands travelled up your back, and you felt how he pressed harder adding some of his weight as he leaned over you.
“This is good,” you sighed, feeling every muscle react to his touch.
“I know,” a dark voice replied, close to your ear, sending shivers crawling over your skin.
You jumped. You literally jumped up – or tried to. Lying flat on your stomach, you quickly moved up your upper body and turned. The sunglasses fell from your face and you found yourself staring into Rafe Cameron’s face – only inches away from yours.
“What the fuck are you doing?” You glared at him. You put a hand on his broad – naked – chest and pushed him away as you sat up. In that movement, you felt your bikini top coming loose; he must have opened it while you were lying down. Swiftly you put your arm over your breasts – but the smug grin on Rafe’s face told you that he had already taken a peek. You used your other hand to keep him at a distance.
“Giving you a massage,” he said in that nonchalant tone, you hated. “And, as you pointed out, you liked it.”
“I did not,” you were quick to reply.
Seeing through your lie, he tilted his head to the side. “Sounded like you did.”
“That was because I thought you were my boyfriend.” You tried to clarify – and you tried to tell yourself.
“I could be your boyfriend,” Rafe said, and your fist hit at his chest – or you tried to, because Rafe was quick and caught it in his much bigger hand before you could touch him. You made a hissing sound not unlike a cat and tried to pull your hand back, but Rafe was stronger, so much stronger. It turned into a fight where you had to use your other hand to try and open his hand. While you started panting with the effort, Rafe just sat there like a rock and didn’t budge at all. Letting out an annoyed puff of air, you gave up to free yourself.
“Let me go,” you demanded, looking straight at him and you saw how his eyes moved from your chest up. Quickly, you covered your breasts again with your free arm.
“And where to? We’re on the open water,” Rafe gestured with his free hand around.
And he was right, and it annoyed you that he was right. And it was childish, but you were so annoyed at him, you stuck out your tongue at his smartass comment.
“Interesting argument.” A grin tugged at the corners of his lips. His voice turned lower, darker as he leaned closer. “Let me mull over that thought.” His voice now a dark whisper as his breath touched your face, and you could smell that scent, like mint and whiskey – weirdly, it smelled so much better than the whiskey in the glass. You inhaled, your lips stayed parted when you exhaled. Your vision became blurry as his face was so close. Fingertips touched your back and your eyes darted to his face as a tingling crawled down your spine, crawled deeper.
“What are you doing?” You wanted to sound angry, but the words only came out as a soft whisper.
“Helping you,” he said, turned his face, which had moved next to yours, towards you. And his fingers kept touching your back, fidgeting with something. You were wondering if he tried to clasp your bikini top, but with just one hand, as the other was still holding yours, that task seemed impossible.
“I don’t need your help,” your voice sounded unlike yours, so weak and breathy. You licked your lips and swallowed down that lump in your throat. Rafe’s eyes moved to your lips. His fingers trailed down your spine and you couldn’t stop your back from arching in response. He pulled your hand, still covered by his, against his chest, pulling you closer.
Your eyelids fluttered as you tried to focus your vision, focus your thoughts, but him being so close made that a difficult to impossible task.
“Don’t –” You managed to gasp, when his fingertips rubbed little circles at that sensitive spot on your lower back.
“Don’t what?” Rafe’s face moved closer, it almost brushed yours, didn’t even touch it, but you felt that prickling sensation on your cheek. Without thinking what you were doing, you tilted your head to the side, exposing your neck. And as if it was an invitation, he took it. His mouth found your sensitive skin. Your eyes closed and a little moan escaped your mouth as his lips caressed your neck. You could feel his tongue taste your skin and as if he liked that taste, the kiss became greedier. You felt your free hand curl into a fist, as if it was desperate to cling onto something. His hand had moved further down your back and was now grabbing your butt, fingers moving under your ass as he suddenly lifted you and in the next moment you found yourself straddling Rafe’s lap.
“Rafe!” You gasped his name, outraged by his forwardness. Your free hand pressed against his shoulder, but of course, it did nothing to get him away from you. Instead of withdrawing, his mouth moved down your neck, over your throat – your breathing increased. Trying to push yourself up from him, your fingers dug into his shoulder and you lifted your ass – which allowed his fingers to slip between your legs from behind.
“Rafe—” And this time it sounded more pleading. Your head dropped back, his tongue licked over the exposed skin. Then you felt teeth nibbling at that sensitive spot and as this sharp sensation shot through your body, you involuntarily let out a mewling noise. Your back arched further and his long fingers rubbed over the fabric of your bikini panties. And you felt the blood in your cheeks as you realized how wet you were and that Rafe must have felt it. It surprised you, how quick this had happened, it never was this quick when you were with your boyfriend.
Your boyfriend – the sudden thought of him made you tense up.
“Rafe”, you started a third time, and this time, you managed, to add, “don’t.” And he stopped, moved his head away from your neck to look at you. His pupils dilated, as if they were eating that blue in his irises. And he looked at you, as if he was about to devour you. But he didn’t move.
For some endless moments you just sat there, straddling his lap, gazing at him, your chest rising and falling from your exited breaths.
His own chest moved in a slow and steady rhythm. His heart beat violently in that chest. You could feel it as he held your hand pressed against it. You felt his muscles tense as he just held your gaze – held you.
“We can’t—” You finally managed to get out some words, though you weren’t sure if it were the words you wanted to say.
Your hand moved to his face, and he leaned into the movement. This intimate, unexpected gesture, made you gasp, your body tensed up. And in that moment, a finger slipped past your soaked panties between your folds.
“I think we can,” Rafe said in a matter-of-fact tone, and at the next moment, his lips found yours. And the kiss was unlike anything you ever experienced before. It was hard, it was demanding, but it was so sensual, so intense, you felt a pull that went deeper than anything. Your lips moved against his lips, opened for his tongue. When it touched yours, it was like a thunderstorm was roaring inside you, waiting to break loose, waiting to roam freely. It was like he was igniting something inside you that became unstoppable now, something so strong, so urgent – a need you had never experienced before.
“We can’t—” you moaned into his mouth, as your hand gripped the back of his head, desperately clawing at the too short hair.
His finger teased you, just brushed over your entrance, grazed your sensitive nub. Your hips started rocking back and forth, as your body was desperately craving for his touch.
“We can,” Rafe mumbled at your lips.
Slowly, he moved the hand he was still holding down his chest, making you feel his warm skin, and beneath that his hard muscles, and your fingers, those traitors, just wanted to touch and feel more of him. And he gave them more to feel as he guided your hand under the fabric of his shorts.
You froze as you felt his length. It was big, really big, and already half-hard.
You could feel him grin smugly at your reaction. And out of spite, you bit at his lips, which must have fueled his already huge appetite. The kiss got hotter, more fervent. His lips were bruising yours, his tongue was claiming your mouth – and you reveled in that feeling of being devoured.
In your hand, his cock grew rock hard. It felt smooth, and firm, and so huge. You couldn’t even wrap your fingers around it completely.
Rafe groaned into the kiss and this time it was you who grinned, as your thumb was circling the already wet tip. But you couldn’t savor that moment for long, because in the next, you found yourself on your back and Rafe was above you.
His hungry lips had found your neck again but didn’t stop there. His tongue trailed over your collar bone, and before this moment, you hadn’t known that this was such a sensitive spot of yours. A whimper left your mouth as the tip of his tongue tickled the spot. A large hand cupped your breast – the bikini top long gone without you having noticed it. His lips found your tits and you arched your back, lifting your chest, and you moaned as he greedily bit your flesh. His tongue swirling around a hardening nipple, sucking on it, and you were hit by a rush so strong, your body started shaking and the most embarrassing whimpering sounds left your lips, swollen from his fierce kiss.
He let go and your body already missed his touch. Truth was, by now you were aching to feel him, to really feel him, all of him.
You lifted your head, just enough to see what he was up to and saw him strip out of his shorts. And you couldn’t help but stare at his naked body. His rock-hard cock was standing upright, pressed into his lower belly. The tip was glistening. It was big. No, it was huge, and goddamn pretty. You felt your mouth watering. You tried to sit up and reach for him – for his cock – with your hands, but a palm on your chest pushed you down again, and the air out of your lungs, otherwise you might have yelled in protest. You did not protest as he undressed you completely. Your feet on the lounger, your legs opened, spread for him. Rafe held them by the knees and pushed them further apart, exposing you completely to him.
His greedy gaze told you that he was seeing all of you now. Again, you tried to reach for him, you needed to touch, to hold, to grab – but he caught you by the wrists, and holding both your wrists in one hand, he pinned them down onto your stomach. The pressure made you whimper – and you saw a grin on Rafe’s lips before they turned their attention to your inner thigh, kissing and nibbling at your skin, moving up, ever closer to your core – to what had been neglected for so long and was yearning so hard for his touch.
His nose nudged your folds and you gasped. Your legs opening wider for him, invitingly. You lifted your head, but couldn’t see much, just part of his head between your open thighs. And then you had to lie back, rest your head on the cushion as a wave of sensation was taking over your whole body, coming from that sweet spot.
You felt his lips, his tongue, his fingers. You felt the pressure on your stomach, increasing the intenseness. It was a feeling that started as a tingling, but soon grew into something so strong, so fierce, so violent, making your body shiver with pure desire.
Your breathing had become an agitated panting. Your body quivering at each flick of his tongue.
“Rafe—” And this time you whined his name.
You felt something slip inside you. His finger? No, it was his tongue you realized as that soft, slippery thing caressed you from within. A mewl came from your throat, and you tried to lift your hips, but his hand was pressing down on your stomach.
Something pressed on your clit, teasing that most sensitive bundle of nerves, when something else, something thick pushed between your soft folds and thrust inside you, making you let out a scream. It was a sharp pain you felt as you were stretched by what you believed must have been two of his fingers, curling inside you, pushing deep and opening you up.
“Rafe—” And this time you begged.
You heard a munching noise, felt a sucking and were hit by a sudden wave bringing you so close to your peak, you whined in pain as the sensation suddenly stopped.
“What?” Rafe looked up from between your legs. His lips, glistening with his salvia and your juices, curled into a sardonic grin. His fingers pushed forcefully inside you and made you squirm.
“Rafe – please,” you mewled.
“What please?” He demanded, as his thumb pressed against your clit, certainly swollen from his mouth teasing it so fervently.
Your body trembled.
“Please fuck me, Rafe,” you managed to get out between desperate moans.
And that seemed all that he needed to hear. In an instant, Rafe was on top of you, pinning your hands above your head. His hip pushed between your wide open legs, and you let out a scream as he thrust his length into you.
When his fingers had already felt more than you thought you could take, his cock made you feel like you were split in two. But as the pain of being taken with so much strength, being so powerfully stretched, shot through your body it turned into something else. A rush was taking over, and he hadn’t even started, hadn’t even pushed his whole length into you, but you were already riding on your first climax. The first of many, you would find out soon.
Later, much later, after Rafe had fucked you in all kinds of positions – even those you hadn’t known your body was capable to do – you were lying on the sun lounger, covered in a thin film of sweat, your hair definitely a mess and your body aching so deliciously with every move – and even when you were not moving at all, you still felt that throbbing between your legs, felt where he had been.
You must have dozed off from the exhaustion, because it was already dark, when you opened your eyes and saw a figure, standing next to the lounger. You heard a low chuckle and tried to sit up, but groaned when your body wouldn’t obey. Rafe turned, his face being lit by the lights coming from the cabin. He was naked and held a phone in his hand, which he put down on the table, as he lowered himself to you.
“You’re awake,” he said, and his lips found your shoulder, “good”, he added, and his hand stroked over your body. Every touch making you flinch as you were still so oversensitive.
“Who were you texting?” You demanded to know, trying to ignore his hand on your breast. The shiver gave away that that was impossible.
“No one,” Rafe muttered between kisses along your jawline.
Your hand clasped his shoulder, and you felt your body reacting on its own, arching towards Rafe. But you managed to get a clear thought and punched his shoulder, pushing him up.
“No. Tell me. You were texting and laughing about something. Tell me what that was about.”
Rafe groaned, and he sat up.
“If you have to know,” he began, looking at you, and his hand – as if it had his own mind, traced up your inner thigh. And your legs, as if having their own minds, opened for his hand.
“I texted your boyfriend,” he continued. You tensed up. “Or your ex-boyfriend, I should say.” A gush of something that you thought should be guilt hit you – but the sensation turned into a heated tingling, as his fingertip entered your folds.
“I told him, he had lost another bet.”
“What other bet?” You managed to ask, a quiver in your voice.
“Oh, that stupid fuck, agreed to another bet to get rid of his debts. Double or nothing.”
The finger pushed deeper, and your hands darted to clasp it, but they didn’t try to pull it back.
“What?” That was all you could get out.
Rafe shrugged, then he was suddenly on top of you again and his finger began fucking your sore pussy. He leaned close and spoke in a dark whisper.
“I bet that you would beg me to fuck you.”
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theyluvkarolina · 3 months ago
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౨ৎ BETRAYAL ౨ৎ
masterlist / rules / requests & talks with me!
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SUMMARY౨ৎ A day in the Leclerc home is never quiet. Cause of noise this day? Charles’s screams of horror when his boys don’t support Ferrari. And the biggest blow? They support Redbull and Mclaren (requested!)
PAIRING ౨ৎ Charles Leclerc x Wife!Reader
WARNINGS ౨ৎ charles being dramatic, a short fic!! (i’m saying that it’s like a blurb kinda short but not a blurb lol so a imagine i think..?)
A/N ౨ৎ i will forever see charles as a girl dad 😞😞 but i’ll do this just for you anon
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IN THE MORNING, Monaco is absolutely stunning. The sun coming up over the Mediterranean Sea gives the whole place an elegant and fancy atmosphere, the smell of freshly baked pastries from the cafes mixes with the sea breeze, people are out for a stroll along the promenade or at outdoor cafes with their morning coffee, or the yachts in the harbor accompanied by the beautiful architecture. It’s serene. Quiet.
Yet, the Leclerc household is never quiet. Even in the early hours of the mornings.
You gave a sigh before sipping the freshly brewed coffee you made while looking out the window of your apartment, taking in the sight resting your head on Charles’s shoulder, enjoying the tranquility while the twins and Noemié are still away for a while.
Charles wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer as you both enjoyed the fleeting moment of calm. “Good morning, mon amour.”
Charles wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer as you both enjoy the fleeting moment of calm. “Good morning, mon amour,” he murmurs softly, his lips brushing against your temple.
You turn your head slightly, giving him a small smile as your free hand slips up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Morning,” you reply, your voice soft and warm, taking in the serenity of the moment. “Did you sleep well?” You questioned, your eyes meeting his.
“As long as I’m next to you, I’ll be sleeping well every night I’m here.” Charles responded, his voice slightly raspy from just getting out of bed not too long ago.
The peaceful morning, however, takes a sudden turn when Charles's hand starts to roam, his fingers tracing patterns on your back. You chuckle, feeling the playful intent behind his touch. “Charles…” you warn, though there’s no real heat behind it. However, the moment soon evaporated by two familiar voices.
“Papa! Look at what Uncle Max and Lando gave us!” One of the boy’s voice carries with excitement, waving a Red Bull cap stitched with the number “1” on it.
The other, follows close behind, clutching a McLaren his own hat, but with no specific number. “And I got a Mclaren one!”
Charles raises an eyebrow, glancing between his two sons with a questioning expression.
Redbull? Mclaren? Pardon?
“Wait a minute, what’s this?” he asks, trying to keep his tone neutral despite the growing confusion.
Julien grins widely. “I’m a Red Bull fan, Papa! I want to be just like Max!” He holds up his Red Bull gear proudly.
Matteo, not to be outdone, puffs out his chest. “I like McLaren now!” He smiles, showing off his new McLaren gear.
Charles blinks, momentarily lost in thought. “But… but you both have been to the same races. You know Papa drives for Ferrari, right?”
Julien shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah, but Max is really cool! He wins a lotta races! Not like you Papa.”.
Charles’s eyes widen, his mouth forming a perfect "O" as he processes the information. He puts a hand to his forehead, as if trying to stave off a sudden headache. “Wait, hold on. Are you telling me that my own sons have chosen to support… other teams..?”
You can’t help but stifle a laugh at his exaggerated disbelief. Julien and Matteo look up at him, each with a mix of pride and defiance in their eyes.
“Yes, Papa! Julien likes Red Bull, and I like McLaren!” Matteo insists, holding up his McLaren cap as if it were a trophy.
Charles’s dramatic reaction continues as he dramatically clasps his hands together in prayer, eyes wide with slight horror. “Mon dieu… my own boys… choosing teams that are my competitors… I think I just failed as a tifosi…”
You lean in to whisper to Charles, “Maybe they’re just testing your loyalty to Ferrari. Or they’ve picked their teams to give you a hard time.”
Charles shakes his head, still in slight despair over the situation. “I need to reconsider my parenting strategies. Perhaps I should start buying them Ferrari gear to remind them of their true team… I need to talk to Max, Lando and Oscar. They stole my own boys from me..”
You simply shake your head at his dramatics. “Oh please Charles, it’s not as if they are praying on your downfall. Besides Noemié I still a Ferrari fan, aren’t you mon chou?”
Noemié simply gave a hum in thought before formulating her response, “Hm… no. Ferrari sucks… I like Mercedes!”
That might have just been the final blow to Charles’s heart.
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angelsforthenight · 9 months ago
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MRS. AND MRS. SMITH — abby anderson x fem!reader
ways you can help gaza 🇵🇸
do not buy tlou2 remastered!
a/n: this is way more inspired by the mr and mrs smith series (2024) not the 2005 one!!! this explains why they’re wives :3
you’re an assassin along with your assigned partner/wife, abby anderson. fed up with her toxic behaviour, you’re pleased when the mission is centred around you seducing a man for murderous motives. why? well, because you know it’ll get under abby’s skin. little did you know, things would blow over way more than you thought it would.
cw: mdni, owen feature🤮🤮, long fic, kinda slow-burn ig?, femme fatale, arranged marriage couple, kinda toxic relationship, violence, mention of blades, car sex, mean!abby, bratty!reader, dom!abby, degrading, bdsm, ass-smacking, finger-fucking, cursing, jealous!abby, hair pulling, dry-humping, finger-sucking, choking, rough sex, teasing, squirting.
“short brown hair, rugged beard. got that?” abby’s murmuring voice comes in from the earpiece you’ve got attached. you groan and roll your eyes, wishing you could mute the goddamn thing.
see, any other day, you would’ve loved to hear your wife’s pretty little voice guiding you — her praises when you’d do something right or her degrades if you’d do something wrong both sending shivers down your spine, compelling you to do whatever she wanted.
but not today. today you’re over it. so what do you respond with?
“yeah, i know, anderson. we both got the fucking brief.” you hiss. you know how pissed abby gets whenever you curse at her; so that’s exactly what you do. you relish at the thought of her gritting her teeth, not being able to snap at you in front of all of these people.
that’s right, you two are at a charity gala event. it’s fancy. too fancy to the point where it’s intimidating: glistening chandeliers, artistic decorations and bustling people wearing glamorous attire. you and abby needed to blend in with the crowd so not only are you two dressed smartly for the occasion but are also split up. not that you’re complaining. you’re sick of her. sick of her petulance whenever you’d get glorified by the agency instead of her, sick of how sometimes she can be so simple-minded, sick of how, at points, she lacks at making you feel loved.
your job is to take out an owen moore, for unforeseen reasons. you never question what the agency tells you to do, neither does abby.
you’re planning to lure him in an concealed area with your enticing charisma, make him believe you’re going to sleep with him before slicing him dead with your blade. you prowl through the many people, scanning the area with a keen eye to find him. claude debussy plays as background music, taming your harrowing nerves. killing is never easy.
“found him yet?” abby sighs.
“please don’t distract me.” there’s way too many people and it’s beginning to stress you out. what if you never find him? failing the mission is the last thing you wanna do.
“i’m getting bored. plus, small talk with strangers pisses me off.” she complains.
“not my goddamn problem.” you retort, the ends of your tight-fitting dress flailing against your legs as you pick up the pace, worrying if there’s not enough time, worrying if he’s even here in the first place.
“literally what is your problem? acting extra fuckin’ snobby tonight...”
your eyebrows knit together. abby always finds a way to get under your skin.
“let’s not fucking start—“ you’re about to snap and make yourself look like a fool in front of all of these people until somebody accidentally bumps into you: spilling his drink all over your dress. great!
“oh shit. sorry, i didn’t mean that.” you hear a man’s voice as you stare down at your ruined dress in disbelief. you slowly glance up at the culprit; only to find the noted brown hair and rugged beard staring right back at you. owen moore.
despite your worked up embarrassment and your extreme annoyance, you manage to flash a smile.
“it’s okay, but... you do realise you owe me now right?” you bat your eyelashes, hoping you don’t look silly.
“and what’s that?” owen chuckles, rubbing the back of his head and making immense eye contact. he’s already flirting back, you think. this is about to be so fucking easy.
with a few drinks, owen’s already tipsy and you’re leading him to the vast room. you make him believe you’re just as woozy; stumbling and giggling away. you take advantage of his obliviousness: your hand brushing against the slit of your dress, fingers cupping the wooden handle of the blade in the garter wrapped around your thigh. whilst he laughs and babbles nonsense, you carefully trace the edge of the blade — feelings of excitement rushing to the surface. regardless of the fact that killing is never easy, it’s also never not exhilarating.
you’re about to fully whip out the blade until owen decides to be bold: setting his slobbery hands against the small of your back and trying to lean in for a kiss.
“woah.” you feign a grin, pulling his hands away. “we go at my pace.”
“aww… please?” he mumbles, trying to seem like an adorable puppy but instead making it look disgusting. this is sad, you think. you try to grab your knife again but he’s now grabbing your arms; desperate for a fruitless smooch.
“come on… don’t play hard to get.” he growls, his sudden aggression catching you a little off guard. no need for stress, you know what to do. your knee prepares itself to kick hard in between his legs until somebody’s arm suddenly emerges from behind, wrapping around his neck and squeezing hard.
“what—“ you breathe in bewilderment, eyes widening. despite owen choking and uselessly clawing at abby’s arm for escape, her gaze stays intently trained on yours; a death stare. it’s unnerving.
it doesn’t take long for owen to turn cold and slack, eyes rolling to the back of his head. abby lets him go, but not without cracking his neck first, and you watch as he flops onto the floor.
“what the fuck, abby…” you mutter, palming a frustrated hand across your face. “where the hell did you even come from?”
“there’s doors.” she tilts her head towards the backdoor behind her. you hadn’t even noticed it. your eyes travel back to her; irresistibly ogling at the black suit clinging to her body, complimenting her form. you almost forget you’re supposed to be mad at her.
the blonde chuckles wryly, a petty exhale. “you starin’? assumed pussy boys were more your type.”
“real fucking mature.” you snarl. “i had him. i was this close to killing him, abby.”
“you were taking too long.” abby shrugs, condescendingly pouting. you grit your teeth.
“jealousy? really? grow up.”
“at least i watch where i’m going. nice dress, the wet splotch is a nice touch, really.” she slanders, narrowing her eyes. you scoff, trying to pretend as if that dig didn’t offend you.
“you’re a fucking child. help me with the body.”
you two leave the building with ease, pretending as if owen is a friend that’s had too much to drink, wrapping his arms around the both of your shoulders and leading him to your car. abby opens the boot and you two push him inside. you two will decide on how deal with the body later.
for now, you’re sat on the passenger’s seat whilst abby drives, the two of you salty and quiet. abby’s driving way too fast; her hand gripping the steering wheel like her life depends on it. she’s obviously fuming.
“can you slow down?” you glare at her.
“you owe me… i mean, who even says that?” abby grumbles, ignoring your request.
“a lot of people do. now slow down, we don’t wanna attract attention from police knowing there’s a dead body back there.”
“not to mention that you’ve had an attitude since last night! the way you were flirting with that oliver guy? or whatever the fuck his name was, had to be on purpose. to spite me.”
abby starts driving even faster, increasing your stress. “owen.” you correct, “you’re so self absorbed!” you continue to beg for her to slow down.
“he’s, like, the embodiment of revolting too. don’t even get me started at the way he was trying to force himself on you. i should’ve put a bullet in his brain.” abby rattles on, pure jealousy oozing from her tone.
“you were definitely enjoying it too. i know you were.” she turns her head to look at you, not paying attention to the road.
“abby. abby!” you scream as abby almost runs through a poor family trying to cross the road.
“fuck.” abby murmurs as she swerves messily, just in the nick of time, steering into a deserted field. the two of you are out of breath from the fright, hearts racing from the adrenaline. abby rests her head on the wheel, letting out a long sigh.
“just what the hell is the matter with you?” you scold, “all this shit over a mission? are you serious?” abby’s lack of response leads you to continue yelling at her.
“of course we’re going to have to flirt with our targets now and then! the fuck happened to your professionalism? if i had known you’d be acting like this then i would’ve never—“
“why didn’t you kiss him?” abby raises her head to look up at you, her face blank. you blink, a little taken aback by the unexpected question.
“i…” you look away. you’re not exactly up for abby knowing that you couldn’t kiss him because of her. “where even are we anyway?”
“nice try. since you’re so professional, why didn’t you kiss him? he clearly wanted to. you could’ve easily killed him then.” the corner of abby’s lips arch up into a smirk — the familiar smug look of hers that never fails to get you weak.
“for someone who’s had so much to say just a second ago…” she leans in a little, arm resting against your headrest, “…you’re awfully quiet.” her voice is hushed down to a soft whisper, and you swear you’re beginning to feel a little lightheaded.
“look, abby, you’re my wife… so…” you mumble in response to her pressing question, avoiding eye contact. abby chuckles, loosening her tie. here comes the floodgates.
“don’t play dumb and pretend as if the agency didn’t arrange that.” her finger presses against the dome light of the car; illuminating your embarrassed face. just what she wanted to see.
“you’ve been enjoying yourself, seeing me all jealous like this. you liked playing femme fatale, hmm?” her finger slowly twists itself around a strand of your hair, before she yanks a handful, forcing your head closer. you wince, eyes clenched shut. your cunt decides to flex too — reminding you that she’s got a mind of her own, and that she finds being in an empty field like this, in abby’s car, pretty fucking hot.
“let’s face it…” abby whispers, so close that you can feel her breath tickling your ear, shooting heavy tingles down your body.
“you want me so bad it hurts.” her eyes drift down to your thighs that are starting to shift uncomfortably in your seat. it’s beginning to ache down there and it seems like abby’s aware of that. you can’t help it. after all, abby sitting so close: loose strands of hair framing her face, unfastened tie and darkened eyes fixed on you, feels so good that it’s suffocating.
you squirm a little and abby grins, her fingers still laced in your hair. her grip slightly tightens as she licks her lips. she looks hungry.
“maybe what hurts is your fingers in my hair.” you quip, though your voice is a little shaky.
“maybe you need to fix your attitude.” abby retorts, “like, seriously, pipe down… you’re probably soaking down there.” she snickers, right on the money.
“fuck you.” you glare at her, gauging her reaction. you want to believe you’re saying this out of sheer anger for what went down tonight, but deep down, you know that’s not the case. in reality, you just want to get under abby’s skin. it’s what you’ve been craving since the beginning; to get her pissed.
you wipe the pleased look off of abby’s face, which is now replaced with a frown. your heart pounds with anticipation: so much so that your chest faintly heaves, lips parted.
abby’s eyes wander to your lips and in one swift movement, she pulls you in; pressing her lips against yours. you’re quick to kiss her back, the sweetness of her mouth sealing yours. fervent can’t even begin to explain the way you two are kissing. akin to wild animals, small muffled groans escape the both of you.
desperation is thick in the confined air of the car, as abby pulls away and shrugs her blazer off. you stare up at her.
“hurry… with your slow-ass.” you whine.
“watch your fucking mouth. c’mere.” abby commands. you naturally do as she says and she begins to unzip your dress — not without making sure to go deliberately slow.
“why do you have to be so mean?” you sigh, burying your face in the crook of her neck.
“oh, trust me… i’m only gonna be meaner.” she warns whilst planting gentle kisses on your neck. you’ve always admired abby for her ability to vary from being sour to tender in seconds. little did you know, the peppered kisses on your neck served as a prior apology to how cruel she’s going to treat you in a second.
once everything is off, abby marvels at your body. like a painting in an art gallery, she makes sure to pay attention to even the minuscule details of your body. it’s her favourite thing in the entire world.
“turn around.” abby mutters, her eyes hazy; voice bleeding with lust.
“what?”
“just do it.”
you hesitantly do as she says. abby beams: finding your weak resistance amusing yet is also excited to break you.
“now… bend over.” she coos, clearly poking fun.
you shoot her a glare, cheeks flushed. “what am i, your dog?”
“don’t piss me off.”
you glare at her for a few seconds longer before sighing, reluctantly bending over.
“arching that back and everything… wooow.” abby teases, “and to think i haven’t even touched you yet.”
“oh, just fuck off, abby…” you complain, the embarrassment beginning to overwhelm you.
“what was that?”
“i said fuck—“ but you’re cut off by a yelp when abby brings her palm down flat against your ass. you flinch violently; very, very taken off guard.
“mm? didn’t quite hear you. repeat yourself.” abby taunts, smacking you again. you grunt and flinch yet again, feeling the sting of her slap coarse through your body. abby’s humiliating you, milking every last drop of your embarrassment. the worst thing yet? you’re enjoying this way more than you should be.
“i’m not kidding. speak.” abby commands, showing no signs of mercy. your skin is already starting to gleam red, and your pussy? well, it’s a fucking party down there.
“abby…” you cry, completely under her control. the more she smacks, flesh recoiling under her palm, the more your head goes blank.
“go on babe… finish what you were saying before.” abby prods. this time, when she smacks you, her fingers grasp the flesh on your ass tightly; watching in delight as her fingertips leave little red marks. you’re trembling like a leaf, both from the pain and the arousal.
see, the thing with abby is that she never likes to let things go. she adores jabbing at you until she gets what she wants.
another smack, this one so hard that you need to press your palms against the window. abby then grips your waist and pulls you way closer; making your ass press against her hips.
“you wanna get fucked?” abby mutters, teasingly bringing your waist back and forth against her hips: hard, playful thrusts. your bare cunt pressing against her crotch is, without a doubt, driving you insane. you frantically nod in response to her question, in which abby replies with latching her hand around your neck; forcing you upright so that your back is now against her chest.
“use your words.”
“y-yes…” tears begin to stream down your face. you’re desperate, yearning for her touch as if it’s a life or death situation.
“so finish what you were saying.” her fingers slightly squeeze around the sides of your neck.
“i-i told you to f-fuck off but i d-didn’t… haa… mean it.” you splutter. the you a while ago would’ve had her mouth agape in horror at your behaviour right now.
“see? that wasn’t so hard, was it?” abby coos, her fingers tracing down your stomach, in between your thighs. long, drawn-out circles are traced on your swollen clit, her fingers pressing just the right amount of pressure. you groan, and abby taps her chin against your shoulder; smirking at how your legs are writhing, desperate for more.
“where’d all your attitude go?” the blonde ridicules. her other hand moves over to your breast, squeezing it, her thumb caressing your nipple. as to the hand working on you, her middle and ring finger brush against your folds; up and down. she’s touching you but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough: abby knows that.
“don’t do this to me, abby…” you exasperate. she lets out a breathy chuckle before flipping you over and setting you down onto the car seat. she reclines it back, eyes yet again fixed on you. you stare up at her with big glossy eyes, your head blank as if you’ve been dumbed down.
abby gloats at how helpless you look, grabbing your face with one hand and squishing your cheeks. “you look stupid.”
“shut up and fuck me.” you mutter in a muffled tone. abby laughs as if what you’ve said was the funniest joke in the entire world. you wonder if abby can feel your cheeks burning up against her palm.
before you know it, abby plows her thick fingers so far inside your cunt that you’d squeal, if it wasn’t for abby’s hand still clenched on your cheeks.
“this what you wanted?” abby purrs, fingers curling up against your g-spot already. you moan, back arching and squirming.
“oh! riiiiight, you can’t speak.” she gloats, playfully shaking your head with her hand. you whine in embarrassment, yet you secretly enjoy how she’s handling you like a doll.
abby’s finger-fucking you rough, wet squelch noises filling up the car. the sound of it is so erotic that it leaves you dizzy, eyes rolling to the back of your head. the blonde releases her grip on your face but not her thumb, that slips inside of your mouth.
“suck.” you mindlessly do as she says, as if you’re brainwashed. you can see abby’s cheeks tint red when you slowly suck her thumb, making sure to keep eye contact.
abby chuckles, looking away. seems like she didn’t think you’d actually do it.
“you’re shy.” you point out. you triumph over the fact that now it’s her turn to be embarrassed, but not for long.
“shut the fuck up.” abby says brusquely, her fingers operating way harder than before; relentlessly pounding against your g-spot. you cry, feeling overwhelmingly good.
that rigid attitude you had a moment ago? now dead and buried. you feel surreal, a series of mewls and sobs leaving your lips.
“nothing smart to say anymore? you look fucking pathetic.” and she’s right. you look like a hot mess. abby smothers your tears all over your face. you mindlessly move your hips, fucking yourself on her fingers. she smirks, loving what she’s seeing. you feel a knot beginning to untie in your stomach, sublime throbs coursing all over your body.
“i’m cumming…” you manage to choke out.
“i know.” abby buries her face in the crook of your neck, and you shiver at the feel of her breath against your skin.
“i’ll decide to be nice and let you finish.”
and that’s your cue. with an ending moan to seal it off, you feel your body tense up, eyes widening. abby leans in and presses her forehead against yours. you squeeze your eyes shut, before your body relaxes. you’re panting like a dog, staring up at abby with foggy and depleted eyes.
“so cute…” she murmurs before cupping your chin and kissing you — this time, soft and tender as opposed to the way she was kissing you before. you feel warm.
so absorbed in each other, you two forget about how you’re in the middle of nowhere and how the body in the car boot needs to be dealt with. for now, you two have something more important to worry about: how you’re gonna clean up the mess you’ve left all over the chair and dashboard.
a/n: you made it !!! thought it’d be funny if the target was owen😭😭 hope u enjoyed reading <3
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prodbymaui · 2 months ago
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Labyrinthine. — 이민형.
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taking up a good rush, don't try to fight it
PAIRING: mark lee x reader
GENRE: popular girl and the loner
WORD COUNT: 1k+ words
WARNINGS: public sex (kinda), pure filth, degration kink
SYNOPSIS: You don't crumble at any man's words, but Mark Lee— God, Mark Lee.
A/N: hi, hello, officially welcome back to me I guess? aside from these short fic/filths in my drafts, I want to announce that I'm finally releasing my series (fr this time I promise)! so if you're interested, you can send an ask to be added to the taglist <3 enjoy reading!
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“Mark—!”
The said man’s hand quickly covers your mouth, shushing you. His moist presses against your ear, whispering reminders about how any sounds that you make could possibly blow your cover— but the brutal pace and unforgiving thrusts of his hips does nothing to help you do so.
Keeping you in place, the A3 bookshelf of the library shakes as Mark Lee drills his cock in and out of your soaking pussy. The clutch you have on his arm tightens before flying to the air. There’s a surge of panic arising between the two of you when a book falls down, courtesy of your restless hands, and creates a thudding noise that you’re sure is enough to catch the attention of anyone inside the room. But alas, it only lasts for a second or two.
“Fuck.. you just can’t keep it down, don’t you?” Mark rumbles on your skin.
He grips the back of your thighs, turning you both around. Your back then meets the cold wood that makes up the table. It isn’t long before you yourself suppress the moans threatening to come out of your mouth, eyes rolling to the back as a drool rolls down from the corner of your lips. As Mark engulfs your body, shielding you from possible prying eyes that watches the both you fucking like rabbits inside the university’s library.
“Look at me,” He calls your name in a grunt.
Mark watches your face twist with pleasure—eyebrows drawn tight, lips parted, eyelids fluttering as you struggle to keep your gaze locked on his through the haze clouding your senses. A wave of pride flares within him, feeding off the tension between your ragged breaths and his unrelenting hold.
“So– good.. Mark, fuck, you’re so big.”
“Yeah? You like that? Like how big my cock is? Look at you,” He tips your chin, trapping it between his forefinger and thumb. “Drooling all over that pretty face with those nonsensical ramblings. I thought you don’t fuck with loners like me, babe? What was that you said in front of your friends?”
His thrusts come to an abrupt stop, and a desperate whimper escapes your lips as you instinctively wrap your legs tighter around his hips, pulling him closer. The sudden pause drives a surge of frustration through you, your body betraying you with silent pleas for more, each movement a wordless protest against the unbearable tease.
“No no no..” You mumble.
Mark chuckles, steadying your shaking head using the fingers that holds you before placing a gentle kiss on your lips. The soft kiss turns into a messy one as Mark forcefully inserts his tongue in your mouth, exploring every surface— the taste of him clinging onto your tongue is a proof of your submission to him prior to being laid on the table, fucked out.
“Tell me, darling.”
Your hands scrambles at the thrust of his hips, the tip of his cock prodding your spot.
“What did you say earlier to your friends, huh? About me?”
Gasping for breath, your mind scrambles to process his question. You swallow hard, trying to recall the memory he’s referring to, but it’s futile. No matter how hard you search, everything is a blur—your thoughts muddled, leaving you unable to grasp anything coherent about what you said or did involving Mark before this moment.
Mark scoffs, his thumb slithers from your chin to the gap between your lips. As though a snake, it slides inside and lands your tongue. Wordlessly, you circle your tongue around the digit, licking it all wet before sucking it noisily, your eyes once again rolling to the back as your walls clenches around him.
The boys you’d been with always followed your lead, eager to please, prioritizing your satisfaction over their own. They were too intimidated by someone as desirable as you, treating it like a once-in-a-lifetime chance they couldn’t afford to ruin. You never allowed any of them to feel like they had the upper hand, even in the bedroom, moreover gave them the power to degrade you as a brainless cockslut.
But Mark Lee?
“Did I fucked you dumb? Or are popular girls like you already this dumb sans getting a taste of big cocks?”
God–
You’d let him degrade you anytime. The thought alone sends a thrill down your spine. You’d drop to your knees without a second thought, craving his approval, ready to do whatever it takes to satisfy him, no matter the time or place. The power he holds over you is intoxicating, and you'd willingly surrender to it, knowing that as long as he’s in control, you’ll get exactly what you need—no questions asked, no limits.
Who could have guessed that *four-eyed Mark*, the insufferable teacher’s pet and the quiet, bookish loner everyone overlooked, would be the one to make you crumble? The irony isn’t lost on you. The same guy you once barely noticed, always tucked away in the corner with his nose in a textbook, is now the one you can’t resist. His grip on you—both physical and mental—is undeniable, and the thought of how easily you’ve surrendered to him ignites something deep within. It’s almost laughable how the tables have turned, yet here you are, completely at his mercy.
As his words push you over the edge, your body trembles uncontrollably beneath him, each wave of pleasure making you quake in his arms. Mark tightens his grip around you, holding you steady as his pace gradually slows, savoring every second of your shared release. His head tilts back, eyes squeezed shut, as he lets the intensity of the moment wash over him, matching the rhythm of your climax with his own. The room feels charged, heavy with the lingering heat between you both. 
Finally, his movements still, and the two of you are left in the afterglow, breaths mingling as the world beyond seems to fade away. With a gentle sigh, Mark rests his forehead against yours, the quiet hum of satisfaction thick in the air. For a moment, neither of you speak—there’s no need. The unspoken connection hangs in the space between you, solid and undeniable, as everything else fades into the background.
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