#brain goes numb (in a good way)

[teaboot]

One of the best parts about working at a sex shop is the employee discount, and yeah that means excellent deals on sex supplies but that's not the big brain part.

You come to my house. Something is cooking in the kitchen- it smells wonderful. What is it? It's novelty dick-shaped pasta. I've set up a sensual sexy Italian dinner. There are candles set up on the table. They're melting too fast, dripping everywhere- they're low temp waxplay pillar candles. For dessert, I serve you a delicious ice cream topped in penis-shaped rainbow confetti sprinkles and strawberry body paint drizzle, and afterwards, serve coffee with roasted hazelnut warming lube.

We play a board game while we drink. It's sexy monopoly. It's your turn. You roll the dice. They come up as 'whisper into' and 'butt'. I lost the original dice. We're using the sexy dice. You move four spaces.

After dinner, I run you a bath. A bubble bath. The bubble gel? Sensual ocean breeze. There are candles lined up around the tub. The scent is overpowering. Why? They're three-in-one fruit flavored massage oil candles. I'm using so much. It's so wasteful. Do you want to shave? I have conditioning shave cream that smells like limes. And an electric body razor, but you can't use that in the tub.

How about a bath bomb? You toss one in. It's cherry blossom scented. As it dissolves, three sexy bath sex suggestion cards fall out. They're all variations on doggy style, probably because fucking in a bathtub is probably the easiest way to break your hip.

The water cools. You get out an dry off with a novelty towel. If you wrap it around your chest, it looks like you have gigantic tatas bursting through the fabric like the Hulk.

You walk into the bedroom. I'm there, reading an instructional book titled "The Housewife's Guide To Every Day Stripping". I'm wearing a neck pillow designed to look like a massive curved weiner. Also a pair of fake leather bondage leggings and an oversized men's christmas T-shirt that says "Jingle My Bells" across the front.

I see you come in. I put down the book, take off the pillow. Offer you a massage. You accept. I already burned up all the massage candles so I pop a new bottle of CBD massage oil that says something wrong about Chakras on it. It's very gritty. That's because there's little chunks of amethyst in it for some fucking reason. It's fine, though. You say you don't mind.

I don't do massages very often. It's bad. You end up more tense than before. One of your muscles starts to cramp- it's okay. I whip out a bottle of Lidocane topical masculine performance numbing spray. You immediately feel like your shoulder went to the dentist. It's not ideal, but it's better than cramping.

You're not in the mood to bone after that. Which is good, cause I'm actually pretty asexual, but it hasn't come up yet so I'm relieved to avoid the conversation. Instead we get ready for bed. (The weather is terrible, and I insist you stay over.) I set up the futon, then realize it smells like cigarettes from the previous owner and shyly ask if you wanna cuddle in my room. You're down.

I crawl under the covers, placing my penis-shaped pink glitter pride bottle on the side table in case one of us wakes up thirsty. Once you're settled in, I turn off the glowing bare ass night light and the room goes black.

It takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust, but when they do, you look up at the ceiling. It's dotted all over with little green flourescent lights. Are they plastic stars? No. I've pinned up a thousand glow in the dark condoms. God bless

[dwaekkicidal]

~400 words | warnings: p in v, dirty talk, breeding mentions, somehow this turned into a like fuckboy!lix vibe...

idk what this is. i found pictures on pinterest of him with long necklaces and my mind wandered.

thinking about felix giving you the most brain-numbing backshots ever with his necklace dangling against your back. his chest almost flat against your back as his hips do most of the work. & he uses that deep voice of his right against your ear to spit out comments that give you the nastiest whisplash

"i should take a picture of you like this and frame it, you look like the sexiest goddess to ever walk the earth."

"you take me so well, honey. this pretty pussy is just made for daddy, right?"

"look at this pretty ass of yours- fuckk... i should fuck a baby or two into you. then you'll really be stuck with me."

times his thrusts with some comments as well;

"so. fucking. beautiful."

"nobody can ever fuck you like i do. right? thats. fucking. right."

at some point he gets desperate to see your face so he pulls away, ignoring your whines so he can help you flip onto your back.

gives you no time to process the position change before he shoves himself back into you, pushing your legs wide open so he can lean down. his necklace now dangles in your face as he sinks his hands into the mattress by your head and fucks into you even faster

he nibbles at your ear with a little smirk on his face at the way you cream around him with each thrust and will whisper some crude comment about how you're just latching onto him so tightly and how, "even if i wanted to pull out, this pussy is just sucking me back in. it's like you want me to cum inside."

he'll lean down after a while to mimic your contorted face as he goes deep all of a sudden, parting his lips at the same time as yours before laughing and going even harder. ghosts his lips over yours as your whines about him 'teasing' turn into moans of mindless profanities.

"yea? feels good?"

you meet his eyes and nod desperately, pulling another laugh out of him. but hes not that mean, so he indulges you and pushes his lips against yours.

now focuses on fucking you to both of your orgasms. & he just. doesnt. stop. even after tears start running down your face and his deep grunts have turned into whines from overstimulation.

whatever they fed him at the company needs to be studied. but, for now, you're more preoccupied with getting dicked down and too hyperaware of the feeling of his bush rubbing against your clit, so you'll have to worry about all that another day.

taglist;

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

[aajjks]

Gazelle (m)

synopsis. You’re his, only his beautiful gazelle.

pairing. gojo x fem!reader

warnings. MDNÏ. yändêrê thèmès, mátúrê ëxplïcït thèmès, ünprôtèctèd sèx, ëxplïcït sèx, scènt kïnk, hè’s sö nèèdy, kïndá sübmïssïvè gôjô, lôts óf kïssïng, präïsè kïnk, röugh fückïng, márkïng, pösèssïvè!göjö, prôfânïty, yándèrè gôjô

note. I could’ve done this so much better but…. I’m still a rookie when it comes to writing smut… hehe… also gojo loves to call you his gazelle… ifykyk… 👁️💌 ENJOY!

Gif not mine I found this on Pinterest so cr to owner.

It’s absolutely embarrassing how needy he gets around you.

Satoru Gojo is helpless around you, his beautiful and dazzling girlfriend, Y/N.

One second around you and he feels his mind shut down, his heart pumping loud so hard that he’s convinced you’ve noticed the sound of his heartbeat.

One second around you and all he can think about is fucking you so hard that the only name you remember is his.

He is a possessive guy, and you are unfairly gorgeous.

Gojo is territorial, he knows it’s toxic but you’re too precious to him, so he tries his best to make sure you stay with him, and only him.

People are disgusting, oh he knows, especially men.

Men are predators, you are like the most beautiful gazelle, Gojo is a man after all, he knows what goes into their [his] sick brain whenever you’re around.

You’re the most valuable person in Saturo’s life.

He can’t loose you.

So he just has to keep you happy, by any means necessary.

But, there’s this one way that he loves.

Pleasing you through sex.

He can’t help but pound into your heat like a desperate man, fuck, you feel so good that his mind feels numb, only the thoughts of you surrounding his brain.

“F-Fuck, ‘toru!” You yelp,

Gojo watches your beautiful E/C eyes, your lashes flutter, your face is scrunched as your bite your lower lip, your hands feel so hot around his back, “B-Baby harder!” He moans, too lost in his moment.

God you’re so beautiful like this.

“H-Harder, princess, please dig them in deeper!” He crashes his lips into yours, swallowing your breaths as he dives deeper into your core, the pressure makes your eyes roll back from the sensation,

Your nails are scratching his back so hard, the burn feels orgasming to him, he bites your lip hard, yet gentle and it spurs you on further,

Making Gojo whimper when you clench around him so tightly.

“F-Fuck princess! C-Can’t move..” he breaks the kiss, your eyes are now wide open as you look into your boyfriend’s wild cold coloured eyes.

“F-Fuck love you so much!”

“Please help me baby.. please..” Satoru sounds pathetic right now, be he doesn’t care, peppering kisses all over your tear stained face as you smile sweetly at him.

“‘m close turo.. so fuckin’ close!” How can you sound so cute at a moment like this, your tongue is lulling out of your mouth, your body feels so soft beneath his running palms all over your skin.

You’re a piece of art, so beautiful that it drives him insane.

“M-Me too baby, fuck, gonna cum together yeah?” His heart feels crazy, you nod, “gotta release me a little baby please..” he groans.

You feel so hot, he feels so hot.

He pushes your body deeper into the mattress, you don’t object as he buries his face into your neck, his breath chilling over your sweaty neck.

“So good, S-Satoru…” you praise your boyfriend, he whined into your embrace, you know how to get him so needy, that’s why he’s so in love with you.

You’re his everything.

He licks over your sensitive skin, grazing his teeth, he bites softly.

“Yn… gonna cum!” He’s almost about to cry, you inhale a deep breath, trying your best to loosen up a little around his length.

“D-Do it toru… let it go!” You kiss his cheeks, his breath is trembling as he whined again and again into your neck.

“You’re so… fuck.. you’re so good to me.” He loves you so much, Gojo loves you so much, you’re his everything, always so considerate.

How did he get so lucky?

“Baby… yn..” he calls out your name in the most soft voice, his lips hot against your skin, “want you to cum together w’me..”

He thrusts deeper into you, making you gulp before you can respond to him, you can see the stars as he mercilessly fucks you with all his might.

It. feels. so. good.

“I-I feel close, gojo..” you confess. He knows, he’s nodding into your hair, kissing you, “I know princess, let loose.”

He’s so gentle with his words yet so rough with his movements.

You know you can’t hold yourself back anymore.

He caresses your back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, you feel his hips bucking up.

You follow him, doing the same.

And before you can think of anything, you both release together.

“My gazelle… so perfect for me every single time..” he smiles, panting hard as he presses a wet kiss on your sweaty forehead,

“it’s completely okay if you get pregnant baby.”

He winks and you roll your eyes.

[ilyhaitanii]

can you stay up all night? ft. boothill

nsfw. the galaxy ranger assigned to protect you as you make your way back to your planet seems to have other plans with you when you both get stuck at a hotel in penacony.

cw: vibrating body parts, cyborg dick, overstimulation, he's sort of mean </3

a/n: knocked this out in like 15 mins. if this isnt good, blame my ovulating brain

for a robot who is programmed to be kind to others, boothill is so mean-- brutal even. he doesn't curse, but aeons his mouth is filthy. that sultry, southern voice of his makes your brain go dizzy, melt into a pile of mush. it's like you're putty in his hands, molding your body however he sees fit.

the quiet whirring of his cock nestled deep in you, hitting at just the right angle has you seeing stars for hours. your legs slung over his wide shoulders, trembling. the hefty sobs that fall from your swollen lips fall onto deaf ears as boothill's thumb is rubbing against your sensitive clit, vibrating against the bundle of nerves.

you don't think you've ever felt so many different things at once. on one hand you want him to stop, allow you to curl into yourself and tremble off his vibrations, but the other is marinating, adoring the feeling of this never ending high.

"look you, baby~" boothill coos, thrusting his cock in and out of your sopping cunt. your eyes try to open, crossing in the process. you try to open your mouth to say something, but you're greeted by the taste of iron and your own slick. boothill's fingers gag you, pressing your left leg to your chest. "you feel that, cutie? im right here," his hand presses down on your tummy as the whirring on your clit increases.

you pulse and clench around him, hips shaking and begging for release. he can't help but laugh at the pathetic way you whine and kick at him. with your hands tied above your head, boohill turns you onto your tummy. he pounds into your from behind, making sure to press down on your lower back.

his fingers on your clit don't lose their place, making sure to swirl the bud to intensify the pleasure. all of it is mind numbing. you find yourself zoning out, only to be greeted by boothill's thumb rubbing at your sore nipples.

"oh please, i cant!" he hums against your hair, kissing down your spine. he tuts, shaking his head. boothill's arms wrap around your torso, pressing your hot sweaty back to the cold metal of his chest. the drastic temperature change has you experiencing whiplash. jaw slackened, boothill kisses your jaw, nipping at some of the skin with his teeth. this drags down to your neck and shoulders.

"you can, dolly, come on. cum for me, pretty thing. i know you want to," with a heavy hand, he presses down onto your pelvis, making sure the vibrating on your clit goes as fast as it can, twirling the bud. splotches of white, hot light flash before your eyes as your entire body trembles for the umpteenth time.

"there 'ya go. you're so good for me, arent 'ya, cutie?" boothill chuckles against your cheek, kissing your lips. you groan, trying to move, but he readjusts you onto his lap. "you can't tap out on me, dolly. we still got hours before daylight. come on, ride me, baby~"

© ilyhaitanii - do not repost, translate, plagarize or repost it to any other sites

[maxlarens]

lando + 18 😛

18) squishing the other’s cheek

You can feel the beat of the music in your veins like another heartbeat as Lando drags you through the packed crowd. He's got a grip on your hand like someone's about to tear you away from him, or the crowd is going to swallow you whole. Which doesn't seem likely to happen, given the force with which you're also holding his hand.

He looks back at you, teeth worrying away at his lip, like you might have been replaced by someone else without letting go of him.

"What's wrong?", you shout, getting closer to him so he can hear you over the ditz ditz of the music and the cacophony of voices in the club.

He shakes his head, keeps dragging you, heading in the direction of the bar. He's moving fast and you're stumbling along a bit, spilling the drink you've got in your other hand. You're four or so drinks deep so your balance and coordination isn't as good as you'd like it to be.

"Lando," you shout again, "Slow down. I'm spilling my drink everywhere."

He stops, so suddenly and with so little warning that you thump right into the back of him. Your face hits his spine, you feel cartilage crunching as your nose goes numb and tears involuntarily spring to your eyes.

Fucking ow.

"What the fuck," you're saying as he blurts out,

"You still have that drink?", frantic, panicked in a way you don't hear from him often, "Have you drank any? Tell me if you've had any?"

You've got your hand on the bridge of your nose, trying to quell the tingling feeling spreading through it and hoping it doesn't start bleeding. You frown, meeting your friend's concerned, almost angry expression with an equally as confused one.

"Lando. What are you talking about?"

"Have you had any?"

You shake your head adamantly, something a little sick, a little worried starting to creep into the pit of your stomach, "No. No, I haven't. Why?"

He releases a ragged breath that has his shoulders sagging in relief, but sets your heart rate spiking. You shake your head less in frustration, more because you're not quite sure what he's trying to tell you. You put your drink down on a nearby table, throw a napkin in it for good measure.

"Lando," you press, grabbing his bicep to keep his attention on you as it keeps drifting off into the crowd while he searches for something, "What's going on?'

He opens his mouth, closes it, then guides you into an out of the way corner, tucked behind a booth. Then he says, "I– there was some weird guy before. Like, leering at you, or whatever. I just thought—”

“—you think he spiked my drink?”, you ask, your heart beating a skittering, nervous rhythm in your chest.

Lando nods, lips pursed into a thin line.

“He’s gone now,” he reassures you, “I think. I can’t see him anywhere.”

Your chest feels tight with something— with many somethings. Fear, relief, panic, gratitude. You’ve been introduced to a problem and then had it resolved all in a very quick span of time. Your brain is still playing catch up. There’s music thudding in your ears, Lando’s looking at you like you might turn to dust right in front of him, your nose hurts, your head is spinning from the alcohol, your skin is prickling from the stare of a man who you hope isn’t there anymore.

It’s too much. So you gather it all up in a ball and you throw it away. You take a half step forward and squeeze Lando into the biggest hug you can manage. A little overwhelmed by your affection for him, but unable to throw that away so readily.

You’ve pinned the tops of his arms to his side with the force of the hug and you can feel his hands grappling for you, grabbing at your waist as he tries to hug you back. You press your temple into his cheek, your still tender nose into a groove at his collarbone.

“You’re sweet,” you mutter.

Affection for Lando, unbridled and made worse by alcohol, rises into your throat. You groan into his shoulder, squeeze him even tighter.

“Christ,” he squeaks out a nervous laugh.

You reel back, letting him loose of the crushing hug and sliding your hands to grip his shoulders. You shake your head, biting down on your bottom lip. A strangled noise slips from your mouth, eliciting a raise of Lando’s eyebrows while you reach up to squish his cheeks in between your hands.

“Oh, fuck off,” he groans, but it comes out muffled and incomprehensible as he swats at your hands— not making any real attempt at trying to push them away.

He’s trying not to smile at you, but his toothy little grin punches through chubby cheeks regardless.

“So cute,” you laugh.

His cheeks grow warm under your hands. He wraps his fingers around your wrists, tugging you away.

“I was worried,” he sighs, “And don’t call me cute.”

“I know,” you bite down on a grin, “Thank you Lan, really.”

His tongue moves to worry at his incisor, he’s fighting the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Intentionally not looking at you.

“Don’t call me cute,” he says again, tipping his head back and exposing the line of his neck so he doesn’t have to look you in the eye.

You snort indelicately, then coo, reaching out to pinch his face, “Aw, is that too much for little Lando Norris?”

“God,” he groans loudly, trying hard to pretend he’s not enjoying whatever this is, “You’re so annoying.”

“You love it, Lando.”

“Fuck off,” but there’s no heat in it, only affection.

[heerinnie]

Imagine having threesome with heehoon, like they both would tease you, and make you beg for their dicks. Tie you on the bed and fill your ass and cunt at the same time. Or cover your eyes with a blindfold and than fuck you one by one and ask you who is it? And when you tell them the wrong answer, they would go extra rough on you and make your body go numb and I can imagine them cursing alot while fucking you senselessly. Like "yeah, you like that slut. You like being railed by two dicks at the same time" "wrong answer whore, now get your ass up and be ready for the punishment"

RAH 🦅DONT EVEN because I love your brain rn.

Ngl i see Hoon and Hee as two different people in bed. Hoon seems like the kind of individual who would push you to your limits and make you feel inferior, 100% hard mean dom that punishes you even when you happen to laugh at a joke told by a guy other than him or Hee and then asking you if his joke really was funny or if you wanted to add a groupie to your roster. His behaviour could be seen as toxic in some situations but after fucking you dumb know he didn't mean a single word he said. Outside of the bedroom he really is an amazing and compassionate boyfie completely contrasting his wild and animalistic side in bed.

On the other hand, Hee comes across as someone who’s gentle with you, a soft dom if I do say so myself. He’d whisper gentle words of praise in your ear, cooing at you for taking him so well and for all the ways you'd let him have your body and mind. Now this might come out of nowhere but I must spread my heesub agenda. This man is such a switch, he’d be a soft dom in bed but the biggest brat known to man if you take control. And absolute menace because nothing beats the way your irritated brow twitched when he spoke back and he just lived when you took it out on him.

Now all of that mixed in with being in a poly relationship with these two? I don't know about you but I’m sold.

They would take turns using you one by one and revel in it. The hard thrusts of Hoon using you like a fleshlight, bruising your hips with his grip along with Hee whispering sweet nothings and telling you about how much of a good girl you are for taking him while sucking and playing with your tit would send you into overdrive, turning your mind into nothing but mush.

On most occasions things would happen the usual way as expected, the opposite parallels of your two boyfriends domming would never bore you so you couldn't complain much. However, there were some days when Heeseung's behaviour and demeanour would take a complete U-turn, surprising both you and Hoon, wondering where your sweet man went. He would align himself with Hoon's attitude, which was quite different from his usual self and he would adopt an entirely different attitude to how he treats you during sex. Same goes with hoon, there ware days where he sees your struggling and would take hours taking care of you whether it’d be eating you out until you couldn’t remember the issue or making love to you telling you how beautiful you’d look carrying his and seungie’s babies.

Back to sub hee, god when you three fuck but hee subs it’s like something straight out of porn. Moaning and whining as you play with his cock and balls teasing and edging him all whilst sunghoon fucks you in doggy like an animal in heat. Slurring degradation and praise towards you both. I’m convulsing.

I hope what you gathered from this is that their duality would be insane, I'm insane, i need them NOW.

[daenysx]

using the safeword with aemond targaryen pls !!!!! 🤍

going back to my aemond era because apparently ewan mitchell will not stop bewitching the fandom! if you have any requests for aemond you can send them my way!! ♡

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, nsfw

aemond presses his hips against yours for countless times. he stays behind you with your knees on bed and one of his hands on your lower back as the other one holds your wrists. he moves again, hits a deeply sweet spot and you make a crying sound.

your face is buried to the pillow with tear stains on your cheeks because everything feels too good. aemond keeps moving, you feel on edge every second like your body is on fire. you are desperate when you push yourself back to him, your legs are close to give up.

"please." you say against the pillow. "aemond, please."

his body is covered with a delicious layer of sweat, his naked torso on display. you can see him if you turn your head enough. he presses on your back as he moves his cock against you, wet noises fill the air. aemond groans, tilts his head back to reveal his pretty neck. if only you could give him a kiss right now. you moan his name again but he doesn't hear.

"so good." he says. "so good, do you hear that?"

the praise sends a warmth to your stomach, your legs are shaking but he keeps you still. you can feel a teardrop falling on the fabric of the pillow. your brain goes numb, there's only him and his sounds, his scent and his praises. "yes- yes, such a good girl. push yourself against me one more time."

you try to do as he says, it doesn't feel like you succeed though. "aemond-"

"one more- give me one more."

"yes, you can." he says, breathless. "my good girl never disappoints me, does she? of course you can."

"i can't." you whine, a sound mixed with moaning.

you feel your breath getting stuck in your throat and suddenly your legs give up. you can sense a liquid dripping down your thighs but it doesn't feel like a relief. the words get caught on your mouth, you panic as you try to hold aemond's hand. "red- red."

everything stops. you don't even realize it's because of the word you say. you can't even look at aemond, a spark of embarrassment flashes on your cheeks, your heartbeat goes insane. he leans in slowly, still deep inside you. he's careful as he fixes your hair on one side to see your face.

"it's okay." he says, gently. "i'm gonna pull out now, okay?"

you manage to give him a nod and a whimper when he pulls himself back. it's the feeling of emptiness you hate the most, he's still hard and he carefully leaves the bed to wear his boxers.

you tear up again, can't help yourself. it's a rush of emotions, you don't know how to deal with them all. you feel desperate, just laying on bed naked and speechless.

aemond comes to your side, sitting on bed. he puts a slow hand on your cheek to dry your tears. he has an understanding look on his face, his hair messed up and skin sweaty from sex. you can see the outline of his cock from the thin fabric, he doesn't wear anything else.

"i'm-" you start, your voice sounds scratchy. "i'm sorry, i just-"

"don't finish that sentence." he says, his thumb rubbing your cheek. "you did the right thing."

you force yourself to turn on bed, facing him properly. you are naked too, and a bit cold but it's okay. "i didn't want to disappoint you." you say with a low voice.

"you could never disappoint me." he says, even softer this time. "i'm so proud of you."

"you are?"

"of course i am, sweetheart." he leans in to kiss your forehead. "you did the right thing. if one of us doesn't feel good there's no point of having sex."

"i was feeling good." you say, holding his hand like an anchor. "it was a bit much and- it didn't feel right."

"it's okay." he says. "it's totally okay."

you try to sit, aemond helps you. he pulls you to his lap to give you the cuddles you want, his long arms holding your body still. you press your nose against his neck, feeling calm as he rubs your back and squeezes your body in his arms. the pressure makes you feel safe, it's not like the one you felt moments ago when he was on top of you. this time you sit on his lap, you have the control. aemond kisses the side of your head, keeps repeating that everything's fine.

"let's clean you up." he says. "i'll fill the tub, is that okay?"

he is panicked too, you realize, afraid he hurt you. he manages to fix the situation for both of you, though, offering any comfort he can provide.

"yes, but-" you say, holding him and keeping him closer than he already is. "you'll get in with me, right?"

he kisses your forehead. "i will."

[ceilidho]

the way you wrote PBF soap’s pregnancy kink rotted my brain in the best way possible I would give you all the money in my bank account if you wrote more of the breeding/pregnancy kink/“““accidentally””” knocking up the reader wjth soap (or ghost! or price!!) 🥺🫶🏽💞💞💞💞

asdfsdgs I know, I can't help it.

Price is staring down at you while fucking missionary when he thinks that you'd make a good mom. You've always been so attentive to him ever since you started working for him, anticipating his every need and always quick to lend a hand. Price can't help but picture how attentive you'd be to your own child, to his child; how he'd feel if you knocked on his office door and came in with his baby bouncing on your hip. He has both your hands pressed down against the bed and fingers interlocked when he decides he's not pulling out. He draws you into a deep, wet kiss to muffle your little gasps and whines before pounding you harder, chasing his own release.

Ghost has never been particularly interested in having kids. With his own childhood and upbringing, he's always quietly suspected that he wouldn't make the best father. That any kid he sired would inevitably end up being just as messed up as him. It's only when he's railing you from behind in a grimy gas station bathroom after hours on the road, both of you sweaty and in need of a shower and coffee, his hand fisted in your hair that he realizes that for all his reservations, he doesn't have any about you. He wants to keep you bound to him, inextricably linked to him for as long as you live. It's what makes him shift his stance and drive into you with renewed vigour, muffling your sounds with two fingers shoved into your mouth.

Soap gets so lost in his pleasure that he sometimes doesn't even remember that you're on the other end of it. Everything is hot and wet and tight, and it makes his mind go numb, his only thought to chase that pleasure, to get closer to you, to pound so hard that he almost bruises your cervix. He goes so crazy that sometimes he'll bite your cheek or gnaw at the space between your neck and shoulder, sucking dark, mean hickies into your skin. When he comes, it's almost absentminded, never even thinking to warn you. His come just dripping down your inner thighs, and his brain goes blank when he pulls out and plays with it, not paying any attention to how you squawk about not being on the pill. Whatever. Get pregnant.

[smileyerim]

what’s mine is yours

if mark isn’t going to make a move on you himself, his friends will surely find a way to make one on his behalf. the opportunity arises after an evening of drinking at mark’s apartment that lands you tangled in mark’s sheets wondering if he feels the same chemistry that you do.

pairing: mark lee x reader

genre: fluff, suggestive !!MDNI!!

length: 4.9k

warnings: adults drinking alcohol and getting drunk, dialogue about sex, both reader and mark are drunk the entire time, mark is a pussy!

net tags: @kflixnet @k-labels

Drinking with the boys always led you into sketchy situations. There was the one time Haechan insisted on breaking into a waterpark to ‘visit the mermaids’. Or the time that Renjun ordered a cab for all of you to go over to his ex-girlfriends house to win her back. Jaemin once threw up in the kitchen sink and didn’t tell anyone until morning.

So, yeah, drinking with the boys always led you down odd roads and tonight wouldn’t be any different.

“Okay!” You exclaim drunkenly, head previously falling forward as you dozed in your spot.

“Which one of you gentlemen are going to drive me home?” Your eyes lazily trail across the room at the boys all scattered about in various positions.

“Uh, I’m not good to drive,” Mark says and shoves his thumb into Jeno’s shoulder to ask “you good to drive?” Which earns him a shake of his head.

The rest of the group reacts now, all to let you know that none of them were sober enough to be behind the wheel.

“Okay…” you drag out the word and pull out your phone to open the rideshare app and struggle to type in your apartment’s address.

“Uber is $65.” You say bluntly, again scanning your eyes around the room expectedly. When you don’t get a response, you speak up again.

“This is the part where you say ‘Oh, here Y/N, we’ve got it.’” You tease and Haechan just rolls his eyes and groans.

“Just stay over. It’s fine, you can take the couch.”

“I call dibs on the couch.” Chenle’s voice is muffled from where his nose is nuzzled in the cushions. You’re genuinely surprised that he’s still breathing. You’re not too sure how, though, he’s buried pretty deep. He’s clearly not about to move any time soon.

“Fine, you can sleep with Mark.” Haechan says, hand signaling to the boy who was too distracted by his phone to keep up with the conversation until his name was spoken.

“Wait, dude, what?” Mark exclaims, his wide and glossy eyes switching between you and Haechan quickly. His drunk brain can barely keep up.

You hear a snicker from over your shoulder, “That’s a good idea, Y/N, why don’t you sleep with Mark?” Jaemin’s hand sits lazily on your shoulder.

You frown, a little too drunk to pick up the pieces and put them together.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea.” Jeno says, his own giggle escaping his lips. The two aforementioned boys had smoked earlier, leading to a fit of giggles shared between the two.

“Why is this a better idea than walking her home?” Mark panics, watching you slowly absorb all that’s going on around you. It doesn’t seem like you’ve picked up on how obvious the boys are being and he’s thankful for that.

“It’s cold out and we’re all tired. Just take one for the team and let her sleep in your bed.” Haechan argues. He’s getting more and more frustrated by the minute. Mark has been complaining for weeks about his crush on you, and the moment that Haechan finally does something about it, Mark protests?

“Where will I sleep?” Mark stupidly asks and Haechan’s head falls back onto the couch when he rolls his eyes.

“With her, Mark.” He says with a frustrated tone, his eyes shut and squeezed.

Before Mark can object again, you finally put the pieces together and move to stand, nearly falling into Jaemin’s lap behind you in the process.

“Come on, Mark.” You say, your hand is out in offering for Mark to grab. His slow brain goes a bit numb, too focused on the gold ring on your middle finger. He hadn’t noticed you wear it before.

When he doesn’t move fast enough, Haechan groans and rolls his eyes, grabbing Mark’s arm by the wrist and placing his hand on yours.

“I have to do fucking everything around here, don’t I?” Haechan says to the group, excluding you two who have already begun your drunken trek to Mark’s bedroom.

The vibe is much different when you’re in his room behind a closed door. He keeps his room tidy usually, but his unmade bed and loose bath towel on the floor suggest he wasn’t anticipating company. You prefer it this way, it makes you feel less like a guest. Especially when you’re about to use his bedroom as a hotel, nonetheless.

It also helps when his ruffled sheets make his bed look all the more inviting and comfortable. You flop your belly down, snuggling into his pillow. It smells faintly of tea tree shampoo and musk. You wonder when the last time he washed his sheets was, but you aren’t sure you want to know the answer. It smells like it’s been quite a while but you’re too drunk to care.

“You want some clothes?” He says from his standing position. He wasn’t expecting to see you so… comfortable. You look as if you’re at home in his bed.

He can’t believe it. You’re here in his bed. Sure, you’ve been in his room a million times, you’ve sat on his bed a million times, you’ve even cuddled with Mark on his bed a million times. But this time is different. You’re sleeping here, you’re going to wake up here, you’re going to be lying side by side with Mark for a minimum of 8 hours and he’s not sure he’ll be able to hold it together that long.

“No,” you say looking down at your athletic shorts and crop top. You weren’t wearing a bra, anyways. “A toothbrush would be nice, though.”

He scurries off to the adjoined bathroom and rifles through his drawers quickly, praying that he’d have at least one clean spare toothbrush.

“Unless, of course, all your hoes have used all of them.” You tease. You aren’t quite sure where that comment came from or why you felt compelled to say it but it has an effect on Mark as he stills for a moment before continuing his search. He finds one and walks back over to where you’re still lying on the bed.

“My hoes don’t ask for toothbrushes.” He says in half-honesty. It’s true, no girls have ever asked him for a spare toothbrush. Sure, that’s due to the fact that he’s never had a girl stay over before, but it’s still the truth nonetheless.

“Ew. Good to know I don’t have much competition then. At least I have basic hygiene.” You say, already loading up the toothbrush with his toothpaste.

His brain goes haywire at the comment. Does what you said mean what he thinks it means? Why are you including yourself on the list of Mark’s “hoes”? Do you want to be one? His only one?

Once you’re done, Mark has already changed into his outfit for bed. He’s hesitant on whether or not to wear a shirt. For your comfortability he probably should, but you’ve never been bothered by his bare chest before in all the times you’ve been over. What would make this time any different?

He decides against it as he gets himself ready for bed, trading spots in the bathroom when you go back to bed. His heart is beating out of his chest, which is saying a lot for how much the alcohol still present in his system has relaxed him.

He’s equally thankful for and also angry at Haechan for the stunt he pulled to get you into his room. He’s wanted this for a long time, thats no surprise, but is this how he wanted it? He wants you to know that you’re special to him, is a drunken night sleeping in the same bed enough to tell you that? His head is spinning and it comes to a halt when he sees you lying in his bed on your phone waiting for him to come to bed.

You look natural there, like you’ve always belonged.

“I’ll be right back.” He panics and runs out of the room before you can acknowledge him.

He sulks out into the living room once his door is shut behind him where all the boys still remain. Only Haechan and Jeno are still awake, playing some video game on the TV.

He plops down on Haechan’s left, careful not to sit on Chenle’s knee which Haechan is resting his back against.

“How’s it going in there?” Jeno asks and Mark groans in response, pouring himself his final shot and downing it quickly. The burning sensation in his esophagus is a welcomed distraction from the flurry of thoughts in his head.

“I don’t know what you want, Mark, honestly.” Haechan says, eyes still trained on the TV in front of him.

“I know, I know. I just want her to know that she’s special to me and not just another girl.” Mark groans, playing with the idea of pouring himself a second nightcap shot.

“Did you tell her that?” Haechan says like it’s obvious.

“She’s drunk, Hyuck.” Mark counters, deciding finally to pour himself another shot of the room temperature liquor. Mark is drunk too, so he’s not too sure why that factor matters right now.

“Did you try telling her?” Haechan repeats himself, earning a shoulder check from Jeno.

“What he’s trying to say is that it’s in your hands at this point. You know what you want and you know how to do it. You just need to grow the balls and get it done.” Jeno says and Haechan leans his shoulder on Jeno’s shoulder to signify a quick hug in thanks.

Mark doesn’t move up from his position in an act of procrastination, and Chenle, who Mark previously thought was sleeping, kicks Mark swiftly in the lower back to force him to his feet.

“Go before she falls asleep and you lose your shot again.” Chenle says, head still buried deep in the cushions.

“How the fuck are you breathing, dude?” Mark asks dumbfounded.

“He has his ways.” Haechan responds, an arm wrapping around Mark’s hips to shove him out of the way of the TV screen.

Clearly, Mark is no longer welcomed out in the living room with his friends, so he moves back to his room with you, quietly opening the door in case you had fallen asleep.

You haven’t, of course. You’re far too concerned about Mark to relax long enough to fall asleep.

“If you want me to go home I can just get the Uber it’s fine.” You say the moment Mark walks through the door.

Fuck, he thinks to himself. He can’t even have one second to think.

“No, you can stay.” He says, heading back into the bathroom to brush his teeth again after the two shots he took.

“You just seem a little off, so I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. It’s no big deal, really.” You say, already moving to stand up out of his bed, moving at a much slower pace than normal due to the alcohol still in your system.

“No, please, stay.” He says, walking over to your spot, essentially blocking you from standing.

Your face still doesn’t seem convinced so he shares the truth in the best way he knows how, “I want you to stay.”

You still don’t seem fully convinced, but you lie back down anyways and wait for Mark to join you. He’s stalling at this point, moving around the room and unplugging every socket he can see.

“Big fire hazard guy?” You tease from your position in bed, his pillow parallel to your chest where your head lies. There’s something about the hopeful anticipation in your eyes that makes Mark’s head spin.

Or maybe it’s the alcohol. Probably the alcohol.

He laughs dryly, finally laying down next to you. His head is flat against the mattress, blocking your view of his face from your position atop the pillow beneath you.

“Oh, here, you want it?” You say, offering him the pillow. Mark chastises himself internally for only owning one pillow.

“Nah, you take it, you need one too.” Mark waves you off and adjusts to bend his arm behind his head, resting on his forearm.

You think for a moment before replying, “Well… you’re here aren’t you?”

“Wh-“ Mark’s question is cut short by you sitting up, placing the pillow beneath his head, and then laying your own head on his chest.

He hopes you can’t hear his heartbeat when you ask, “Is this ok?”

He, very boldly in his opinion, responds by wrapping his arms around your body. One over your shoulders and one around your waist. Thank you, alcohol!

“Just peachy.” He says, voice cracking.

His limbs are still stiff around you, but you don’t mention it as you sit up one final time to flip the light switch by the door.

You feel him jolt when you lie your head on his chest again. You feel like rolling your eyes at his dramatics.

“Seriously, Mark, I can go home.” You say, gauging his level of discomfort by the stiffness of his limbs and the sound of his breath that he’s clearly attempting to get under control.

“Nope.” Is all he says as he wraps his arms around you tighter and pulls you in. A beat passes as you feel his muscles relax beneath your head.

“You’re confusing, Mark Lee.” Is your message of acceptance as your fingers find his collarbone, tracing circles around it and scratching into the caverns gently.

He scoffs at your words, “I’m confusing?”

“Well, you say you want me here but you’re clearly uncomfortable.” You retort. He just wishes you would let the conversation settle. He’s trying his hardest.

“I’m not uncomfortable.” It’s a half truth and he knows it, but he’ll say anything to get you to shut up.

“When’s the last time you had a girl in your bed?” You ask and thankfully you can’t see him roll his eyes in the darkness.

“A while.” He swallows. He can tell where this is going and he doesn’t like it.

“You could’ve just said that!” You say with a soft, almost condescending, tone as you coo, digging your head further into his chest.

“It’s not that. You think you have me all figured out but you don’t, so just drop it please? Let’s go to sleep.” Mark pulls you even closer at that and it’s your turn to stiffen.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into his pec and he sighs, the hand around your waist holding you tighter.

“It’s fine, just settle down.” He says and you try your best, but your mind is now running a mile a minute.

What the hell did that mean? If you aren’t making him uncomfortable, and if it isn’t that he’s just out of practice, then what is it? Why is your best friend acting so weird?

Your mind can’t help itself but say, “Are you drunk?”

“Very. You?” He says honestly. You smile against his bare chest.

“Very.” You giggle and he does too, his hand traveling down your body to grab at the back of your knee to hoist your leg to rest over his. The ice has been clearly broken as he relaxes into the new position.

You nuzzle in closer to his chest, your hands continuing to explore the dips and curves of his shoulder.

“Did you drink more when you went out there?” You ask, not really wanting to go to bed just yet. You have an odd feeling that your night isn’t over.

“Yep.” He pops the ‘p’ sound. He can’t tell if you’re prying to try and collect information or if your drunk brain is truly just curious, so he keeps his answers brief.

You giggle out your question, “Why?”

“You don’t usually have this many questions.” He deflects, but you catch him.

“You don’t usually avoid answering.” You retort and he sighs, chest rising and falling slowly below your head. It’s a nice feeling, you think.

You’re anticipating an answer, but he doesn’t give you one. Frowning, you move your head so that your chin rests on his chest, your eyes level with his cheek from where he’s lying back. He looks down at you in the dark of the room to notice your impatient stare.

“Just needed a little extra liquid courage, that’s it.” He shrugs and you frown deeper. That answer just gave you more questions than answers.

“But-“ he cuts you off.

“Just let it go, please.” He begs, his voice genuinely sounding desperate. Usually you have a free pass to tease Mark, but something is different about him tonight so you don’t pester him any further. You lie your head back down over his chest and continue to stroke his shoulder lazily. You seem to be getting more and more comfortable with each other here, which pleases you.

He appreciates the gesture, clearly, as the hand that was previously around your waist travels back down to your leg to grab a large handful softly, his thumb stroking over the side of your thigh near your knee gently.

It’s a nice moment, you think, and before your brain can tell you otherwise, your lips are puckering to leave a gentle kiss to his bare skin beneath your head. His breath hitches softly at that, so you move your head gently away from the spot to rest your forehead against his chin.

Truth be told, you aren’t quite sure why you did it. You and Mark have cuddled a million times before, but you’ve never kissed him. You’ve never even given him a cheek kiss as a greeting. Your lips have never touched Mark Lee, but for some reason tonight you felt compelled to. It was innocent and short enough that you could pretend it didn’t happen at all.

You can feel Mark slowly turning his head, your heart beating at a mile a minute at the sheer unknown of how he will react.

Just as your mind begins to conjure up rejection scenarios, you feel something.

His lips make contact with your forehead, his warm breath fanning over the top of your hair as he stays in his position, gentle lips kissing your forehead. You hold back a gasp, and your heart picks up pace. He still hasn’t moved, which you’re thankful for, as you absorb the feeling and attempt to process your emotions quickly.

That was a move.

That was a move.

Mark is making moves on you. Do you want him to? You can’t lie and say you haven’t thought about him romantically before. He’s your best friend, he’s seen your lowest and your highest and he’s stuck around through it all. He’s also undoubtedly attractive and your type. But you’ve never imagined him in this context.

But you wouldn’t want to take advantage of him. This is Mark you’re talking about here. There is no “casual fun” with him. Whatever is happening is already changing the course of your friendship, do you want to keep it going and take it further?

He doesn’t give you the opportunity to decide before his hand finds your chin, pulling up to signal that he wants you to look at him. You comply, of course, with probably too much ease.

His eyes dart between your two as he tries to read you. He wants this. He knows he wants this. What he doesn’t know, though, is whether or not you want this too.

“Are you too drunk to know what you’re doing?” He whispers and you can feel the air from his words hit your lips and it only makes you want him more.

“No.” You whisper back meekly, your eyes trained to his lips. He’s never looked so kissable. In fact, you’ve never even considered the idea of kissing Mark. Now that you’re here, though, you can’t believe it’s not crossed your mind before. You want him so bad that it feels like you’ve wanted him forever.

Your answer was clearly all he needed to brush his lips over yours. It feels like the wind is knocked out of you as you lie there, not even pursing your lips, just allowing him to adjust to the feeling of being so close with you.

The moment is beautifully intimate, you won’t lie, but you’re feeling a bit impatient and if Mark spends any more time cherishing the moment rather than seizing it you may combust. So you take the next step and officially slot your lips over his, your hand coming up to grab at his jaw to keep him steady on you. He reacts without hesitation, kissing you back with as much force as you’re giving him.

The kiss is remarkable in all the ways that it truly isn’t. There’s no sparks or fireworks, and it takes you a while to get into a rhythm. Your teeth knock his a few times and you both miss the opportunities to insert your tongues into each others mouths. It’s almost laughable how bad the kiss is from a black and white perspective, but you’re satisfied. Because, above all else, the kiss is natural and it feels right.

Once you’ve found your rhythm though, you’re fully emerged in the feeling. He’s a slower kisser than you thought he would be, clearly still attempting to savor the moment with everything in him, and you let him.

It’s nice, you think, being here like this. Every first kiss you’ve had has spurred an emotional rollercoaster inside of you. You’re typically too preoccupied with doing the right thing, looking hot enough, memorizing the other person’s likes and dislikes, and thinking about the future when you kiss someone. Kissing Mark is different. You aren’t full of worries, you’re simply enjoying it. A part of you tries to pin it on the comfortability that comes with being as close friends as you are, but another part of you that’s been hiding for a long time tells you otherwise.

Your adrenaline spikes at the thought, and it spurs you to make the next move to straddle across his waist. He reacts instantly, his hands finding your hips as he kisses you harder.

You like Mark, you realize. Perhaps your heart is a little behind your head as you’re already kissing him, but the realization sparks something in you nonetheless.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” he admits when his lips leave yours to trail down your neck. You aren’t sure if Mark is intending to bring the heat up, but it’s working when he finds that one spot near your carotid.

You hum, hand threading in his hair to keep him close. You love this. You love this moment. You never want it to end.

As if he hates you, Mark’s mouth leaves your neck to look at you to do precisely that.

“Are we doing this?” He says and you’re startled by his honesty and boldness. Is this the same Mark who was too scared to even sleep in the same bed as you?

“Define this.” You ask. It’s a valid question, he has to say, but he’s not bold enough to say it by name. Sure, he can grow a pair when he absolutely needs to, but his natural instinct is to quietly observe the other person, not be observed himself.

He doesn’t respond with words, but with an action much more bold than he realizes when his hands find your hips again and move you down to rest over his crotch. He’s not hard yet, but you still get the gist of what he’s trying to say. A gasp escapes you, earning a coy smile from the man below you.

“I take that as a yes?” He teases and you aren’t given the opportunity to respond before he sits up fully, meeting you in your sitting position to wrap both his arms around you tightly as he kisses you again.

Now the kiss is hot. His hands are busy all over your body, lighting fire in its path. You moan encouragingly into his mouth when his hands graze the underside of your breast. He catches the message quickly and moves his hand higher to officially grab you, both of you moaning at the contact. Your mouths connect sloppily, and you begin to feel a poke from underneath you.

It takes all the self control in your body to slow things down, but you owe it to Mark to talk about this.

You say his name into his mouth quietly, which he interprets as a moan, and responds with his own groan right back.

“Mark,” you say a little more firmly this time, your hands finding his shoulders to signal that you have something to say.

“Are you sure?” You ask and his previously anxious eyes soften.

“Are you?” He retorts and you roll your eyes deliberately at him.

“I asked you first, idiot.” You say and he smiles, bringing you in for a hug, his nose finding the crevice between your neck and shoulder. You can feel him relax below your fingers when you hug him back, your hands threading into his hair. The moment from before is long gone, but you prefer this.

You smile from your position on his lap. This is easy, you think. Much easier than it ever has been. It almost scares you how natural this feels with him, but you don’t allow your brain to indulge in the anxiety of it all. You’ll happily wait as long as Mark needs to give you an answer if he’s holding you like he is now.

“I’m sure that I want you, if that’s what you’re asking.” He says and it makes you smile again. He’s trying to get you to say it first. Your best friend has never been very sly, although he likes to think of himself that way.

“That is what I asked, but that’s not what I meant.” You say, throwing the ball back into his court.

All this back and forth is giving you a headache. Under any other circumstance you’d have been fed up with all the pussyfooting and made an actual move, but you want to give Mark the chance to say what he needs to say. You have a feeling that he needs the floor more than you do.

“I want to fuck you, but I don’t think it would mean the same thing to you as it does to me.” He says finally and you melt at his indirect confession, holding him tighter and slightly swaying your bodies side to side.

“Then ask.” You say simply, still not taking the power he clearly wants you to. He’s used to you being the bolder one, he’s never had to fight with you to get you to offer your mind.

“You’re making this really difficult for me, aren’t you?” He jokes and you let out a genuine laugh, kissing the crown of his head once you’re done.

“You’d regret letting me take the lead.” You read him honestly and he scans his brain for a conflict, but you’re right. He would regret it.

“You know me so well.” He says, resigned acceptance on his voice as his hand rubs wide circles into your back.

“I know, that’s why you like me so much.” You snark and Mark leans back to look you in the face with a shocked expression of offense.

“You said you’d let me take the lead!” He whines and you giggle, hand coming to rest on his cheek.

“You’re taking too long.” You attempt to justify yourself.

“I wanted to tell you.” He pouts and you move to grab the other side of his face with your other hand.

“You still can.” You gently inform him, quieting down and looking deep into his eyes.

You had anticipated a confession right then and there, but he continues to stare back at you. You can see the wheels turning in his head and you roll your eyes once more in faux annoyance, a teasing smile on your lips.

“Now, Mark.” You taunt with a giggle and he breaks out into nervous laughter, leaning away from your hands and you let him go hesitantly, resting your hands back on his bare shoulders.

He clears his throat and averts his eyes to the bedpost as he gathers his thoughts. It’s cute, you think, how flustered he is. All of this drama for you? Mark is this nervous to confess to you? You’re not a self conscious girl by any means, but you feel a little out of bounds by the idea that Mark Lee is flustered over you.

He’s amazing. Why doesn’t he think that you would notice that about him? Why does he look like he’s preparing himself for rejection right now? Does he really think of you that highly? Or worse, does he think of himself that low?

He clears his throat once more, saying your name quietly and grabbing your hands in his. You feel as if a bit more distance has been put between you now as you’re no longer holding him, but you allow him to guide.

“I’ve been into you for a while,” He says, taking in a sharp breath after the phrase is out. Although you were expecting to hear it, actually being in the moment feels more intense than you thought it would be. Your toes curl in anxiety as you attempt to keep your cool.

“and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before I kissed you— that I genuinely blame on the alcohol—but this is all me.” He says with a sigh at the end. If the confession had been pretty, it wouldn’t have been Mark’s. But you love it all the same.

A smile slowly creeps over your face as you look at him through your eyelashes. You don’t want your reaction to influence him, you want him to fully own this moment.

“Say something please.” He says with a cute impatient lilt to his voice that makes you laugh.

Your poker face, if you even had one in the first place, slips when you open your mouth to respond.

“Mark, I’ve been into you for… well…. not that long,” you say and he laughs in response, hopeful eyes and expectant smile on his face.

“but this is all me, too. I swear if I had known before I would’ve done something before.” You draw an x with your finger over your heart and Mark grabs your hand and presses a gentle kiss to your fingertip. Your heart melts as he grabs your hand with his two and draw them down to his chest.

“I like that you let me.” Mark says, leaning in as if he was about to kiss you. You smile, tilting your chin to meet him.

“Thank you.” He whispers before meeting your lips together in a sweet kiss.

i wrote this all in one day and only proofread it twice so if it sucks…. uh….. yeah! if you did enjoy my little brain dump of a story, please reblog and send feedback! your engagement means waaayyy more to me than you realize.

[subbypeterparker]

Hear me out whiny!Ethan landry fic or headcannon

whiny!ethan landry headcannon

• he is perhaps the most vocal man you’ve ever met

• but you’d better be sure his whines and moans are music to your ears

• as uni students, you both spend enormous amounts of time on your individual classes, which can lead to time spent away from each other

“pleaseee will you touch me mommy (im sorry i had to slip it in), I promise I’ll make you feel so good, i swear”

you’re sitting cross cross on his bed, working intently on your laptop while he lays behind you, pressing soft kisses to your neck

and obviously him moaning and begging in your ear has you feeling some kind of way, but you really do need to focus

once he realizes he needs to wait a while until your attention can be on him, he gets a bit restless, and lets out a sigh of defeat as you continue typing away

• this man is actually such a slut for you, it’s insane he gets anything done since you two got together

• part of being whiny means ethan being so needy for you, no matter where he is

• even if it’s inconvenient for him to be touching you anywhere, he will beg and whine for you to let him, either until he gets to touch you, or until you punish him for being desperate

“please, please, let me eat your pussy…” “ethan, we’re in the library” “…no one’s around, and i won’t make any noises, i promise”

he’s always so eager to touch you, whenever and wherever he can. doesn’t even need to be sexual

“…sweetheart, you don’t always have to hold my hand,” you look down at your conjoined hands with a pointed look on your face. “i know, but i just want to be near you,” he practically pouts

will get pouty and whiny if you don’t let him touch you, and will act bratty until you let him

• i have to mention this man’s moans and whines

• as i’ve mentioned, he’s very vocal, and when he’s desperate for anything, it goes up 10x

he’ll practically be screaming in bed, especially when he’s close, and loses his breath quickly doing so

this results in the the lewdest and loudest whines and moans you have ever heard, and they’re truthfully enough to have your pussy throbbing

but oh. good. lord. when it comes to pegging, this man is extraordinarily vocal

with his back arching, ass pressing against you as he moans out and clenches around the strap, his poor brain can’t decide if it wants you to slow down, or speed up and wreck him

this conflict results in ethan just losing his ability to speak, and his brain turns numb and can only let out whines and whimpers for you

• he’s so big on being praised, and the slightest stroke on his face combined with a soft praise has him preening in your hands

• ethan landry has the BIGGEST praise kink known to man, and will beg and whine for more praises to poor from your mouth, no matter what you’re doing

he can truly cum just from you praising him, and he knows this, and begs for you to praise him, just so your voice can get him closer

• when he has to restrain himself (either from cumming or from touching you or himself), he starts to whine for your touch and your help

“fuck mommy please, i cant last much longer,” he’s been lying on your bed naked, watching you watch him as he falls apart while you touch yourself

he can feel himself getting closer without even touching himself as he watches you touch your pussy, whining out when you moan his name

• although he likes being praised, and as i’ve said, can get off solely on it, he’s big on being degraded

trust me when i tell you there is NOTHING like ethan sobbing and whining as you degrade him

although he knows he shouldn’t like it as much as he does when you call bim degrading names, he can’t help but moan out and whine for you to keep doing it

“baby look at you, nothing but a fucking whore for mommy, only here for my pleasure, huh?” your words make his back arch as he whines out broken cries and screams of “mommy!”, desperately holding on to any sanity he has

• he is such a simple minded teen boy, that anything to do with you has him whining and writhing just for you, and only you

• he truly is a slut for you, and holy shit, does he earn that title

————————————————————————

it is incredibly late after a long day, yet this writing was much needed, PLEASE keep the ethan requests coming!! 🫶🫶

[7waystreet]

toxic | min yoongi

synopsis — it's the night before your wedding but your ex bf yoongi reels you in for a taste of what you've been missing

genre — fluff; smut

warnings — 18+, TW! cheating, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex

word count — 2.3k+

It's the evening before what any other person in the world would most probably feel beyond excited for, not even being able to properly voice the happiness which consumes their breath. Having found that one special person completing the unsaid void in their hearts, almost everyone goes into it with the mindset of only wanting it to happen once in this lifetime. Your wedding.

But you find yourself slipping out of the family festivities early under the pretense of wanting to get a good night's rest being the bride, silently hiding back in the heavy shadows before the much anticipated ceremony tomorrow. Looking for an escape from the overwhelming burden weighing all the way down to your gut, you secretly change into a baggy set of sweats and pull your hood up, eventually cowering in the corner of the sports bar at your hotel lobby, all alone. You feel pathetic sipping on your drink late into the night hours, the urge to yell at yourself for being ungrateful for the wonderful things you've been blessed to have in your life only getting stronger as the alcohol begins spiking your bloodstream, your thoughts concluding on the fact that you're just utterly insane for somehow still not being content with your fiancé's love.

But you now find yourself wondering... is love just about being content? Or is love about experiencing every single one of those all consuming and wild emotions that drive you to the depths of craziness, but also give you that exhilarating rollercoaster ride of pleasure and thrill, than otherwise?

Your head sways sideways in painful defeat, a drunken chuckle escaping your lips as your mind drifts off to your past. Of course you'd tried the latter with nearly no success, the memories of that long term toxic relationship soon flashing before your eyes like a movie, an aching numbness sucking the life out of your body.

Despite everything that's happened, you still can't stop thinking about Yoongi.

How could you possibly forget him when he was your first? Your first kiss, which he'd ever so gently pressed into your trembling lips after he'd walked you home late at night from that house party. Your first boyfriend, the way his cheeks had turned cherry red when he'd mustered up the courage to ask you out still fresh in your mind despite it being years and years ago. He was even the person you'd lost your virginity to, the night he'd snuck in through your window to sneak into your sheets sorely rippling through your brain like a wave threatening to drown you. He was your first love, and your first heartbreak too.

"Would you like another drink, miss?" the bartender's voice drifting from somewhere up ahead rips you out of your drowse, your head nodding in acknowledgment, still hanging low under your hood, to further your wishes to deprive yourself from any sensations.

"You know, you really shouldn't be drinking so much at this hour."

Like a snake lying patiently in wait until he chooses to slither back in, Yoongi smoothly takes the seat right next to you on the high top chairs at the bar, the comment he's just made in his deep voice jolting your body into a wake state as if you'd been shocked to life with a defibrillator. You obviously don't have the courage to turn and look at his face, purely out of the fear that you'll get lost into those cunning eyes again, but you can still tell it's him from the attractive scent of his pinewood musk cologne mercilessly seeping into your senses, dangerously sucking you back into the reminiscence of falling asleep to that same smell while being snug in his arms.

"How did you even find me here?"

"I can spot my own sweatshirt easily, even from a mile away."

Your face streaks hotter as your eyes quietly drift down to really observe the black FG hoodie you'd inattentively thrown on earlier, not even thinking twice about how it'd actually belonged to Yoongi when you'd stolen it from him back in the day when you two were still dating, a right of passage for any girlfriend in the case, of course.

"Still mad I never gave it back to you?"

"Nah, it looks way better on you than it ever did on me" you can hear a slight sigh in his upbeat voice, his tone of speech quite easy to decipher, and you'd understood perfectly well Yoongi had indeed grinned to himself while speaking those words.

A smile curls up on the already loosening muscles of your face, your swerving mind fully malfunctioning and finally ordering your head to turn in his direction, just in time to catch Yoongi flash his endearing gummy smile, a heart warming sight you hadn't been graced with for ages. A heart wrenching sight you've no doubt missed.

"What do you want Yoongi?"

"Nothing. I'm just here to check up on you and make sure you're ok before, you know, the big day."

A hint of spitefulness no doubt lingers in his fake act of sounding perfectly unaffected by it all, even the true master of disguise failing miserably to hide his strained feelings about the reality you're both trapped in at that given moment.

"Hah. How sincere of you... Where the hell were you when I really needed you?"

His entire demeanor tenses up to a rock when your unexpected words pierce him like shards of glass, his thinned lips pressing on each other while his saddened eyes peer into your glistening ones, his mind clearly thinking his thoughts through in a flash for a few brief moments before saying something he'd later end up regretting.

"We've talked about this. You really wanna go there again?"

With a whip of frustration, you veer your gaze away from him in a swipe, your elbows digging into the bar top at once, your bare face now buried rigidly in your palms. Your eyes remain tightly shut, stars beginning to sparkle in your dusky vision from your eyeballs being intensely pressured into your hands, your breathing certainly shaky as you try hard not to blow your head off in the anger that's surging through your chest.

"Hey look at me" Yoongi's hand softly twists up around your wrist and tugs at you, the feeling of his palm touching your skin like a sharp burn.

"And do what?! Stop trying to be nice now... it's too late! You fucked everything up!"

It's true. Yoongi's scorching love always came at a conditional price, not any of that unconditional shit you see everywhere in the movies and dramas. You'd done everything you could to support him in his difficult venture of establishing himself as a music producer in this tough industry, selflessly spending countless hours with him in the studio for moral support, sacrificing your own health and pushing your own dreams aside to fully be there for him.

But what did he even do for you? Slap a bandaid over your hurt by buying you the most expensive and exquisite gifts with the flowing cash in his bank account, without ever prioritizing you when you really needed him to be there. All you had asked was for him to really invest some time to strengthen your relationship, but the constant neglect because of his rising career became the last nail in the coffin, finally breaking off your trust in him for never being a dependable partner.

"You know I was trying to make money. For our future together. To make sure we were financially stable and secure."

"How happy is that money making you now with having to see me get married to him?"

"And how much happier are you with him than you were with me?"

The icy cold silence that follows forces you both to freeze up, exasperated eyes locked into one another as you silently sit there with a breathless shake, shocked by the sudden direct questions you'd thrown onto each other. But you both seemingly know the answers to those no matter how wretchedly wrong they seem, perfectly understanding each other without even a need for words.

Yoongi's hand gradually moves up from your wrist, quietly loosening up your clenched fist and sliding his palm along yours, his pretty fingers intertwining with yours before he lightly squeezes your hand.

"Come with me."

It's like a fatal poison, his raspy voice, the sweetness of it brutally addicting, and you're sure it's only going to consume you in the end. Your brain keeps saying no but you're still unable to escape him, your feet now following along his as if they have a mind of their own.

You're not quite sure if you're using your hood to hide your shame or just your face as you enter the elevator with Yoongi, hand in hand, not daring to look up or making eye contact with anyone in case someone from your family spots you, Yoongi's feet eventually guiding you over to his hotel room. Your heart feels like it's going to give out when he closes the door after you've both entered the four walls of security, guaranteeing your privacy, your stomach setting on fire, when he gently pushes your back against the door.

Yoongi's hands skim over your curves, his grip finally firming around your waist right as your mind goes blank, his face slowly pushing in closer until you can feel his breath on your nose, your quivering lips instantly pressing back into his when he impatiently kisses you. Even after all of these years of not being intimate with him, you both seem to find your rhythm as if your bodies were hardwired into it, his chest rubbing into yours as the kissing heats up in no time. Yoongi gently sucks on your tongue, still remembering just how much of a turn on it is for you, unexpectedly taking a pause and moving back from your lips with a big smooching sound.

"Are you still on birth control?"

Your nod of reassurance calms down the visible anxiousness stirring on his face, one of his arms dipping straight underneath your thighs while the other supports your back, being held up in his arms making your heart skip a beat, all while he walks you over to the white linen sheets on the fluffy hotel bed. Yoongi ceremoniously throws you on top of the mattress, a gasp leaving your mouth as your body bounces from the motion, your tense gaze taking in the sight of him standing there untying your shoes for you, his eyes firmly fixed on your face as he does it, not wanting to miss capturing even a second of emotion he's making you feel. He swiftly throws your shoes away behind him, the pair loudly smacking the wall in the hotel room before he slowly leans forward and begins undressing you from your sweats, tossing everything away messily onto the floor, eventually leaving you naked and shivering in bed right in front of him.

And just like that, he's already on his knees for you, his head tucked in between your legs despite his eyes rooted on you, his mouth swishing in a quick motion to drip out his spit onto your folds right before his tongue slowly glides it around to get to wet. He way he flicks on your clit with the tip makes your toes curl up in excitement, the familiar sound of him moaning at the sight of your pleasure prickling up your back in painful goosebumps. He doesn't hesitate to jam his tongue in your hole and place open mouthed kisses on your clit, the motion upping your heart palpitations at once, forcing you to run out of breath and tense up in your place.

"Fuck. I missed the taste of your pussy."

There's absolutely no thoughts running in your mind now except for what your eyes are visually processing, Yoongi edging you on to only pull his mouth away to make you wait just a little bit longer, his legs rising back up to his feet before he starts taking his clothes off one by one, giving you enough time to ogle at every inch of his naked figure in front of you, the vision of his slim stunning body forming a deep knot in your chest.

He's already spun you around and made you get on all fours, now cutting you off from observing the way he looks, only allowing your senses to experience how his body makes you feel being pressed up against your back. His thick cock angles towards your heat, and the way he teases you by rubbing it along your folds for him to meet with your dripping wetness drives you fucking insane. Without any warning, he tightly enters your heat with a slam while you both close your eyes in unison, diving deep into the nostalgic comfort which had imprinted straight onto your souls.

You knew Yoongi loved hitting it from the back because he always liked seeing your ass jiggle from the action, and he gets to live his dream one last time before you become someone else's, the palm of his hand spanking your buttcheeks for the full effect, leaving a red hand print as if to mark you as his in wild desire. Your face scrunches up and teeth bite into the pillow as he spanks hard another time, his cock ramming in and out of you with full speed, just how you like it though. Rough sex with him got you off like no other, the way he mastered the understanding of the fine line between real pain and pleasure a turn on in itself, and he knows just how much you admire that, his nails now digging into your ass and pulling you even closer to thrust even further in to hit your g-spot.

You can't help but clench around his length in no time, a growl escaping his mouth when he feels your walls tightening up around him, the moans that follow furthering both of your pleasure as the friction finally pushes the two of you over the edge. His cum mixed with yours slips out of your heat as he pulls his cock out, flopping down on the bed next to you in a breathless state, your own body still experiencing the waves of your orgasm as if it didn't want to ever stop feeling it.

"Don't marry him, (y/n). Let's try to make this work. I'll do better."

[xxchumanixx]

You're absolutely right, Eric Winter is the Godfather of sexyness🔥

Anyway, I hope you don't mind that I came up with with a The Rookie idea 🤗 hear me out my love hear me out:

Reader is a cop. Tim and her secretly harboring feelings for each other but they would never admit it

Everything was fine until one night when they were out with the others to celebrate and then they had a drunken one night stand

The next day Tim tells her that it was a mistake and they should forget about it. Reader is heartbroken and devastated.

Tim is also sad about the situation but he thinks it's for their best, so he even tries to avoid reader at work and she him

Until one day they have to partner up and go on patrol together

Above this uncomfortable situation reader is also feeling under the weather and feeling ill, but she doesn't want to show weakness towards Tim. So she tries to live trough the day despite her beginning to burn up and feeling weak

They got called to warehouse but it's a trap and they got captured

Tim finally starts to talk to her but notices how pale and sick she looks

He goes in full worried Tim mode

He tries to keep her calm and help her in her sick state

He apologizes for his behavior and they talk about their feelings

Reader is starting worsen, Tim holds her

With a lot of drama, sick reader, worried Tim until they're found

What do you think?

Have a nice day 💕💐

Intoxicated

Tim Bradford x reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+, mdni!, smut, unprotected p i v (wrap it before you tap it!), slight praise kink, hell of a lot angst, fluff

Word count: 4.939

Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! I absolutely loved it and I hope you'll like the way I wrote it! I don't know how, but somehow this ended up in present tense, not past tense. It's like my brain was offline when I started to write. Anyways, I hope you don't mind!

Im pretty sure I switched somewhere between the tenses, and haven't corrected it yet, so please let me know!

Enjoy!

You can't help the giggle that escapes you, when you try to open your door. Tim giggles along with you, his smile being so much more intoxicating in this moment, than you remember it.

Even though he's just waiting for you to open your door to bid you good night, before he would continue on to his own house, you can't help the exited feeling that's cursing through your veins.

You'd give more than everything to have him stay over. But that's just a fantasy - a very good one, but still.

You are colleagues, nothing more. Good friends, maybe, but that's it.

You're just coming home from a night out with your friends and other colleagues, having had a drink too much.

Tim had to hold you up all the way to your house, or otherwise you would have stumbled and fallen most of the time.

His hands had felt wonderful on your waist, a feeling that would surely burn its way into your brain forever.

When you finally hear the familiar click, you look up at him in triumph. He cocks a brow, huffing a laugh at your proud smile.

Heaving a sigh, you push the door open, turning back around to him. He's still looking at you, his face adorned by a warm smile though his eyes seem darker in the light of your porch's lantern.

The atmosphere prickles like electricity, it's thick - at least it is for you, as you inhale shakily.

He swallows thickly, taking a step closer.

"Are you sure you can take it from here?" he rasps, his voice suddenly hoarse. "Or do you need any help?"

He can't deny that he secretly hopes you would want his help. You had been intoxicating the whole evening, catching his gaze more than once with the way you looked and carried yourself that night.

His fingers feel numb, as the electricity shoots through them, his heart beating unsteadily.

Yours does the same, eyes locked onto his, as you search your mind for an answer.

"Some help would be great." you finally breathe out, watching his adam's apple bob, as he swallows again.

Nodding, he bites his lip, before you walk inside backwards, placing your keys on the dresser beside the door.

Once he crosses the threshold, he pushes the door closed with one hand, gaze still locked on yours.

Your breathing becomes shallow, heart pumping in your throat, as you anticipate his next moves.

Would he really just help you, so you'd be tucked in bed safely, before he left? Or would he help you in the most delicious way, the one you secretly yearn for?

Once the door clicks shut, he closes the distance, his hands grabbing your neck, as he pulls you closer. His lips meet yours like a starved man, not sweet, but hungrily and demanding.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, his sudden boldness leaving you dizzy.

Your hands interlock behind his neck, one of them brushing though his hair, as you tug him even closer.

His tongue brushes over your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You give in more than willingly, sighing into his mouth, as his hands find your waist.

His touch almost burns you, the intensity of his kisses soon leaving you breathless. It's a sensation you're sure you'll never forget.

He pushes you against the wall behind you, hands wandering further down, before they grab your thighs, letting you know that he wants you to jump.

And so you do.

As he walks you towards your bedroom, you can't help but sigh dreamily.

This is all you had silently wished for.

Even though you are drunk, you suddenly feel sober again.

As he lies you down on your bed, his lips leave yours, sucking on your neck instead. You moan as he finds that sweet spot that has your toes curling, causing him to suck even harsher.

His hard-on presses against your thigh, giving you a hint of what lies beneath the jeans - it was a lot.

He grabs the hem of your shirt, tugging it over your head, before discarding of it on the floor. His lips greedily trace every inch of skin he exposed, kissing his way down the valley of your breasts, fingers fumbling for the clip of your bra.

Once he opens it, he lets it join your shirt on the floor, one of his hands grabbing a breast, kneading it. It makes you moan, arching your back into him.

It doesn't take him long to move further downwards, getting rid of your pants and underwear, after removing his shirt. He tugs you closer to the edge of the bed with his arms wrapped around your thighs, breath ghosting over your heat.

You are a whimpering mess under him, only growing louder, as his mouth attaches to your clit, sucking and licking, his hands firmly holding you in place.

Your sounds spur him on, his name on your lips; his hips frantically rolling against the bed frame in search for some friction. He hums at the taste of you, the sound vibrating through your cunt, eliciting another string of moans to fall from your lips.

He alternates between licking and sucking, tongue circling your entrance, before he slowly pushes a finger inside. He curls it just right, hitting that spongy spot that has his name cried into the night.

In a matter of minutes he has you coming on his tongue and fingers, riding you through your first orgasm of the night, as you continue to whimper his name like a mantra. He takes everything you give him, greedily lapping at you.

You can taste yourself on his lips, his tongue licking into your mouth. When he pushes inside it causes you both to groan, and he hisses as you grip him so tightly.

Panting, you try to calm your racing heart, as he pulls off his pants, before joining you on the bed again. His lips entangle with yours, as he aligns his cock with your entrance.

Falling into a steady rhythm, your legs wrap around his waist, granting him even deeper access. You can't help but gaze down at where you both are connected, moaning at the sight.

His lips find yours again, before they brush down your throat, kissing and sucking, stars appearing behind your closed eyelids, as your head tilts back.

You moan loudly, when he hits that sweet spot, cock softly kissing it. He does it again and again, hitting it so good.

"You're so tight." he grits out and you whimper in return. "Takin' me so good."

His words send shivers down your spine and you clench down on him. He hisses in return, smirking to himself. "You're doing so good for me, gripping me so deliciously." he praises, drawing a strangled moan from you.

"I'm close, Tim!" you breathe out, gazing up at him through hooded eyes. His meet yours and he nods. "Me too, baby." His lips graze your cheek, brushing up to the shell of your ear. "Come for me." he demands, hips snapping against yours. "Come all over my cock for me."

You cry out his name, following his demand as you come hard, squeezing him and he follows, stilling balls deep inside you, as he paints your walls with his cum.

You pant, shivering as he fills you up, his cum slowly oozing back out of you.

You swallow, heart pounding violently against your ribs. Tim slips out of you and you shudder at the sudden emptiness.

Sitting up, you watch as he collects his clothes, putting them back on. Suddenly it's awkward as you're sitting there, unsure of what you should do.

Scrambling for your own clothes you mimic his actions, until you're standing in front of each other, fully dressed again.

He seems hesitant, not sure what to do or say either.

"I'm gonna head home." he then says, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. "See you tomorrow."

You just nod, eyes following as he walks to the door, eyes meeting yours for a split second, before he leaves.

You feel like shit.

Used, that somehow sums it up.

Walking into the bedroom you shed your clothes again, before stepping into the shower and turning the water on.

Trying to forget the gnawing feeling in your stomach, you scrub at your body, trying to wash him off of you.

His touch, his kisses, his scent.

But it doesn't work.

Not even the saltiness of your tears gets the feeling of his lips off your skin.

When you're lying in bed, wide awake, you try to think of anything other than him.

But nothing works.

_____

When the alarm goes off the next morning, you groan, rolling over to shut it off.

You haven't slept much, barely able to slip into the darkness without his face behind your closed eyelids.

Getting ready for work, you drag yourself around the house, before gathering your keys and heading to the station.

Somehow it feels strange, everyone seems to stare at you, like they know what you and Tim did last night.

But they don't, and they're not actually staring at you, barely glancing your way as you bid good morning.

Tim is already there, you've seen his truck when you parked. Dread is eating at you, not sure if you want to see him at all.

Walking into roll call, taking a seat at your usual spot, your eyes scan the room. He isn't there yet, but as you realize he'd sit right beside you - like he usually would - your heart picks up its speed.

Panic suddenly floods you, as you consider if you should go sit somewhere else.

But as the room slowly fills with people, your chance at another seat reduces more and more. When Tim enters the room, you stiffen.

Missed your chance.

He avoids looking at you, only mumbling a good morning, as he takes a seat beside you. Your arms brush against each other, and you flinch back involuntarily.

His eyes find yours at the motion for the briefest of moments, before they avert. Shrinking into your seat, you bite you lip, arms pressed to your body to avoid another touch.

Suddenly, you regret what you did last night. It seems to have changed everything - how could it not, right?

What else do you expect?

Sighing quietly, you wait for Grey to begin, so you could concentrate on him instead.

He assigns tasks, before he dismisses you.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you get up hastily, but Tim has the same idea.

You bump into each other like two teenagers on the run, before he takes the lead, walking out of the room in front of you.

"Tim!" you call out after him, before you can stop yourself, flinching internally.

He stops in his tracks, biting his cheek, before he gathers the courage to turn around to you.

"Yeah?" he asks, taking a step closer. You search his eyes for any indication of regret, unfortunately finding it.

He looks pained, like he wants to get away from this conversation as fast as possible.

"Can we talk?" you ask, voice lowered so other colleagues wouldn't hear. His eyes swipe through the room, before he nods once.

You follow him into the empty break room, stopping when he does.

"What do you want to talk about?" he wants to know, like he doesn't already know the answer.

"Last night." you press out, fighting to keep up the eye contact. He nods, biting his cheek again.

"Look, I know we... had sex, but it was a mistake, okay? It won't happen again." he says, all the while keeping a straight face.

Your heart crushes, but you won't let him see it.

You can't.

Not when he had you moan his name so often last night, that you aren't able to think anything else other than Tim.

Not to mention the way he talked to you. Or more like praised you.

A cold shiver runs down your spine, as you gape at him like a fish.

Cheeks flaming up, you look away, jaw ticking as you try to suppress the tears.

His face contorts, pain flashing through his eyes. He hates doing this to you, but he has no other choice.

Thankfully, you don't see it, as he steels himself, before you look back up at him.

Before you can say anything, someone enters the room, seemingly in search for some bad coffee.

Without another glance, you turn around, leaving him behind to find your rookie, his carefully put up mask crumbling with a pang in his heart.

Finding your rookie - or rather John's, but yours for the day, considering John isn't at the station until tomorrow - you send her a small smile.

"Celina." you greet her with a nod, motioning for her to walk towards the already prepared war bags, gathering them along with the guns.

She carries them towards the shop, storing them in the back, before heading to the passenger side.

"What's up with you?" she asks, sending you a worried glance. Brows furrowing, you get into the shop, buckling up. "Don't know what you're talking about." you give back, starting the engine.

You have been talking to her a lot since she started as a rookie, getting along pretty well.

That she can seemingly read you so well, has you swallowing.

This shift will be a stressful one.

_____

And it is.

You swear at some point Celina's stares have begun to burn holes into your skin.

"What happened?" she asks for what feels like the hundredth time, barely two hours into the shift. "I'm sensing strong discomfort."

Sighing, you grumble her name, though you know she probably won't stop. With Nolan she wouldn't be this forward, but you two had become sort of friends over the past few months.

"Okay, yes something happened." you finally give in with wide eyes and a motion that said 'happy now?', before carefully scanning your surroundings, as a sigh leaves your lips.

"With Tim?" she asks, still looking at you, even though you refuse to meet her gaze. "Did you sleep with each other?"

"No!" you respond a little too fast, eyes widening even more, causing her to tilt her head at you with a cocked brow.

"...maybe?"

Her own eyes widen as well, not having expected to be right with her assumption. "Wait what?" she gasps, leaning forward in her seat.

Rolling your eyes, you silently hope for a call, something to get you out if this situation.

And you're prayers are heard.

_____

It has been a week that feels like a whole month.

Tim avoids you whenever he can, and you do the same.

You should have known it would ruin everything.

Waiting for Grey to finish, you squint your eyes. Everything has been blurry since the morning, your body heating up slowly as time passes.

But you didn't want to call in sick, so you pushed through and to work with a sigh to yourself. You aren't one that gets sick fast, so you intended for it not to stop you.

"Bradford, you're with Y/L/N today." Grey's voice rips you out of your thoughts, gaze snapping up. If he sees the look of disbelief and panic on your face, he doesn't show it.

Or he simply doesn't care, as your watch commander.

Standing, your eyes hesitantly meet Tim's, who's across the room. You had switched seats with another colleague, so you wouldn't be sitting beside Tim anymore.

Sighing, you follow him, as he leaves the room, heading for the shop.

When you both stop behind it, his brows furrow. "Where are the war bags?" he wants to know, and your brows furrow as well. "Thought you'd get them." you mumble, avoiding eye contact.

He groans in annoyance, the sound making you feel worse, before he leaves, going to gather the things you need.

Fumbling with your body cam nervously, you wait for him in the shop, glancing into the side mirror, when the doors slide back open. He stores the bags and guns in the back, before getting into the drivers seat.

You don't talk, as he leaves the garage, driving out onto the bustling streets of Los Angeles.

Sighing to yourself, you adjust in your seat, back aching. His eyes drift over to you for a brief moment, taking in your appereance.

You are looking uncomfortable, but not only from the current situation. There are bags under your eyes, indicating that you didn't get enough sleep. The slightest bit of sweat makes your forehead glisten, and he wonders if you're feeling ill.

But he holds his tongue, not saying anything.

Your heart races, only adding to the uncomfortable feeling creeping into your bones. It isn't only Tim's presence, but whatever you might have caught, as well.

Coughing quietly, you lean forward in your seat; inhaling deeply, when you can breathe again. Yesterday you were feeling good, so why are you getting so sick now?

Tim's eyes wander back to you, brows furrowing, before he looks back out of the window.

The silence is deafening, tension palpable. Your tongue feels like lead, your feelings making it hard to speak.

"Can we stop to get more water?" you ask hoarsely, not daring to look his way. He nods, the crease between his brows deepening, as does his worry for you.

He can't deny that he's worried, not sure what you are going through that has you looking so pale. He's sure it's not only his presence, though.

When he parks, he motions for you to stay in the car, getting out, before you can protest. Huffing, you lean back in your seat, silently grateful that you don't have to go yourself.

Eyes closing, you breathe in deeply, trying to relax and lessen some of the pain in your back. But, when the door opens and Tim gets back into the shop, all relaxation goes out of the window again.

"Are you okay?" he wants to know, handing you two bottles of water. You nod, taking them without really looking at him, shivering as his hand brushes yours.

"I'm fine." you assure him, trying to sound stronger than you actually feel.

His teeth grit, but he doesn't push further - he doesn't have the right to, not when he's possibly responsible for how you're feeling.

With a nod, he buckles up, starting the engine and driving south, when the radio comes to life.

"7-Adam-100, we have a reported dispute, possibly armed, at a warehouse, 5601 Pico Boulevard. Do you copy?" "7-Adam-100, dispute, possibly armed, at 5601 Pico Boulevard." Tim speaks into the radio. "Copy, we're on it."

You rub your temples, clearing your throat, as you try to clear your head as well, shaking off the uneasy feeling.

The drive is quiet, except for the sirens, adrenaline pushing through your veins, alleviating some of the pain and aching. When you arrive, you draw your gun, hopping out of the shop and quietly following Tim.

Heading inside carefully, you start to clear the place, brows furrowing at how quiet it is.

How odd.

That is, until something heavy hits your head, and all you suddenly see is darkness.

With a groan you startle awake, sight blurry, as you try to make out your whereabouts. The air smells dusty and bad, brows furrowing. Pain shoots through your head, and you groan again.

What happened?

Blinking, you try to clear your vision, slowly making out another silhouette. "Tim?" you breathe out, once you're able to make him out in the light above.

He grumbles something, before his eyes meet yours.

"Hey," he brings over his split lips, blood already drying. "You're awake, thank god." You try to swallow the dryness in your throat away, but it makes you cough.

You feel feverish, body aching to the bones. You swallow again, in desperate need for some water. Sweat trickles down your neck and forehead, hair sticking to your skin.

You feel like shit.

"I'm not feeling good, Tim." you mumble, head lolling to the side. "Hey, stay awake!" Tim demands, causing your eyes to snap back to him.

He's bound to a chair, diagonally sitting beside you. Eyes widening, you realize you've been captured.

"Either they hit you real hard, or somethings up with you." he speaks, trying to analyze you from his position. "Either way, you're not looking good."

You huff, anger bubbling up beside the sick feeling in your stomach, vision lightly turning, but you try to keep it together. "As if you care."

He looks genuinely taken aback, forgetting he's being held captured for a moment. "Why wouldn't I?" he wants to know, leaning forward as best as he can.

"Because you refuse to even look at me." you retort, looking away, trying to inspect your surroundings instead. It's dark, except for the lamp dangling above you. "Because you refuse to engage with me no matter how."

You hear him swallow, as he licks his lips.

"That's not true." he mutters, inhaling shakily. Your gaze snaps to his, disbelief painted on your face. He holds your gaze, his own hardening slightly. "I do care. I care enough to end things before you can regret them."

You laugh dryly, anger seeping through.

"And what's with fucking me?" you ask, biting your cheek. "What about that?"

He flinches, swallowing again, as his gaze wavers. "We were drunk." he tries to play it off, shaking his head with a frown. "We weren't that drunk." you give back, leaning further back in the chair.

It's quiet for a while, your body growing hotter, the more time passes. You cough, groaning at the sick feeling that's making your stomach turn like a washing machine.

"You're sick." Tim realizes, eyes widening and you chuckle coldly. "No shit, Sherlock."

Someone chuckles behind you, causing you to jump in your chair, the wood scraping over the floor angrily. Heart racing, you try to catch your breath, head turning to watch the man come up in front of you.

"Well, that's the wonders of our chemical knowledge." he speaks, his accent thick. It sounds Italian, you think, as your brows furrow, same as Tim's.

"A bit of this, a bit of that, and you have a potent poison that makes you feverish, nauseous and sick."

Breath fastening, you swallow thickly, glancing at Tim. He fumes in his seat, eyes shooting daggers at your captor, who seems unfazed by it.

Panic grips at you with its iron claws, shivers running down your spine.

"Don't worry, it's nothing too serious." the man explains, grimacing. "Wouldn't want a dead cop on me, no. It'll wear off, but it gives me the perfect opportunity to tell you-" He cuts himself off, a sick grin splitting his lips, revealing pearly white teeth.

"Whups, maybe it is deadly. Should have read the description better, I guess."

Tim leaps forward, only held back by the thick ropes around his wrists. Fire spits from his eyes, and something tells you he'd kill the guy, if he wasn't restricted.

You try to focus, failing as you begin to hyperventilate.

I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die.

You hear the man laugh heartily, like he just heard the best joke on earth. Tears well up in your eyes, and you can only partly make out the mans frame slowly stepping back into the darkness, eventually slamming a door behind him somewhere down the warehouse.

Tim yells after him, tugging on the binds, the chair scraping over the floor with the sheer force of his tugs.

When the tears start to fall, you hear a crack, followed by a grunt.

Tim has managed to tip the chair over, bringing enough force with him to break a part of it, using it to free himself.

"Hold on Y/N." he says, working on the rope with the wood. "I'm here with you."

You sob, dread eating you alive. You are gonna die, and you didn't even have a chance to really live your life.

Another grunt, and he has freed himself.

Making his way over, he starts to untie the ropes around your wrists, but the fever burning your whole body blocks the feeling of his skin on yours out. When he's kneeling in front of you, his hand softly connecting with your forehead, you flinch at how cold he feels.

"Fuck." he mumbles, knowing that your skin was way too hot.

He helps you down from the chair onto the cold floor, fishing for his back up phone, that was clipped to his body, where your captor didn't find it.

He dialed the station, calling for an ambulance.

Breathing heavily, the tears run down your cheeks in cold tracks. When he ends the call, he brings you into his arms, embracing you in a hug.

"I'm so sorry." he mumbles into your hair, his breath cooling your burning skin. "I'm so sorry."

You sob, choking on your tears.

"Don't be." you whisper, hands fisting his shirt. "It's not your fault." But he shakes his head, something cool hitting your skin - a tear.

"I shouldn't have distanced myself from you." he speaks, tugging you even closer. "I'm such an idiot. I'm so sorry."

Shaking your head, you rest your forehead on his shoulder, breathing in his scent. "You didn't want to be near me after what happened, I don't blame you." you tell him, swallowing, but he shakes his head frantically.

"That's not true."

Your brows furrow, lips trembling. "What do you mean?" you rasp out, coughing once. "I mean that I didn't want to distance myself." he explains, a shaky hand brushing through your sweaty hair. "You have no clue how badly I wanted to be near you. But I didn't want to ruin what we have, I didn't want to face the possibility that you'd regret what we did. So I tried to give you space, telling myself, that it was the right thing to do."

A sob racks through your body, shaking him with you.

"But I don't regret it." you tell him, more tears falling. "I don't, because I love you."

It's now or never.

He stiffens, before he's the one shaking you now, with a sob of his own.

You are in his arms, dying, and you just told him what he was wishing to hear from you for god knows how long.

But you are dying.

"I love you, Tim." you tell him again, lifting your head to rest your cheek on his shoulder, nose brushing his pulse point. "And I don't regret it, not for a second."

He breathes out shakily, holding you against him. "I love you too, Y/N." he rasps out, smiling despite the situation you were in. You breathe a sigh of relief, and it let's you see a light at the end of the tunnel, if even for just a moment.

Black splotches obscure your vision, the world around you slowly fading. But you don't care anymore, not when you are held by the man you so deeply loved.

"Hey, hey!" you hear him say, his face coming into view, as he pats your cheek. "Stay with me, Y/N." You nod, trying to follow his demand, but it gets harder with each passing second.

You hear sirens in the distance, shouting, as Tim rocks you in his arms, after pulling you back into them.

As your world slowly turns black, you can't help but smile.

He loves you.

_____

A strange sound wakes you, it's steady rhythm calling you back into consciousness. Bright light blinds you, as you try to open your eyes, making you groan in discomfort.

Something beside you shuffles, a chair being moved closer.

"Hey." you hear him say, before your vision slowly clears and his handsome features come into view. Sighing dreamily, you try to sit up and he helps you, moving the bed up so you can sit more comfortably.

He holds out a glass to you, moving it to your dry lips so you could take a few much needed sips.

"How are you feeling?" he wants to know, putting the glass back on the table beside him. "Like shit." you mumble, sighing again. He nods, biting his cheek. "But at least I'm alive, right?"

He huffs, elbows coming to rest on the bed. "They arrested the man, Damiano- I don't know what, and he's in custody right now." he tells you, hands wiping over his face.

You nod, relieved. "That's good." you say, sending Tim a small smile. He nods, barely registering. "He almost killed you." he mutters, frustration and anger clear as day on his face. "We barely managed to get here in time, to give you an antidote. And all just to teach the police a much needed lesson."

Carefully taking his hand, you give it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm alive." you remind him, and his gaze turns to you. "But-" "I'm. Alive."

He halts, swallowing, before he nods slightly.

It's silent for a moment, as you tug him closer. "Please tell me I didn't dream all of that." you tell him, trying to avert his attention. He huffs, a small smile gracing his lips. "No, you didn't." he assures you.

Your smile widens, tears burning in your eyes.

"Can you say it again?" you ask him quietly, sitting more upright. He chuckles, leaning more towards you. "I love you." he says, and you chuckle in glee. "Again."

He huffs playfully, scooting closer, so his face is inches from yours.

"I love you."

Pushing forward, your lips graze his. "I love you, too." you say, before he closes the small gap, pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss, a silent promise.

He'd never distance himself from you again.

Not now, not ever.

He simply couldn't.

Tag List

@newobsessionweekly @laheysfilm @augustvandyne

@rookietrek @dhunhdchrih @nachofriess @dtftheavengers

[fic-over-cannon]

New Year’s Day

jason todd x f!reader

part of the holiday scenes series

summary: waking up with jason on New Year’s Day

tags: frotting, kissing, light dirty talk

rating explicit (mdni) | wc: 1k

a/n: wrote this in like four hours while traveling and posting while a bit tipsy, so i can’t guarantee that this is my best work. enjoy and have a wonderful new year!

(edit: i should mention that this was partially inspired by @ivysangel’s incredible fic and my brain going ‘hay if you were the one dreaming instead?)

You wake up slowly, disoriented and sleepy from the late night’s celebrations. It’s warm under the covers but you can’t help but feeling frustrated, like you’ve forgotten something on the tip of your tongue. Furrowing your brow, you can’t remember what it is, but the frustration is intensifying. Warm lips press between your eyes, smoothing out the wrinkles from your thinking face.

“Ah, awake yet sweetheart?”

Opening your eyes slowly, cautious in case the morning light decides to sear your tired eyes, you see Jason lying on his side, mouth twisted up in a mirror to your own frustration. Now that you’re looking at him, his teal eyes and wild bed head, you’re slowly becoming more aware of his presence. His carefully tense body, arm around you, hand flexing but not moving on your hips that are grinding unconsciously against the deliciously firm thigh between your legs. Oh, you think, unable to string together anything more complex.

There’s something hard and hot against your hip. Jason’s cock, if his full body shudder when you press into it is anything to go by. It’s warm and good and syrupy slow, your hips moving back and forth like they’ve got a mind of their own, seeking out more pressure, more friction to make you both feel good.

“M’awake,” you mumble, leaning into the crook of his neck and placing messy open-mouthed kisses along his jaw. All the while, your hips keep moving, circling. “More please,” you ask, ever so sweetly.

Jason groans, then rolls onto his back, pulling you with him. You’re fully on top of him now, the leg between yours bent so you can rub yourself on it more easily. There’s two hands gripping the plush of your ass, controlling your rhythm and pace now, pulling you down against him and getting you pressure you’d never achieve on your own. It also traps his cock between your bodies, the slow, filthy drag of your bodies against each other pulling hitching moans out of him. Your breath is coming in harsh little pants now, interrupted by whimpers as the pleasure in your aching cunt builds. Jason’s hips are twitching underneath you, the way they also do right before he comes. He’s got one hand in your hair cradling your head into his neck. Panting into the side of your face words of praise and encouragement as he keeps thrusting his hips up to meet yours.

“C’mon love, doing so good, so so good for me. Puttin’ your pleasure in my hands. Makin’ me feel so perfect. Gonna come soon, want you to go first baby. Want you to shatter for me, okay?”

And something about his words and the way his cock’s starting to kick under your belly has you flying apart, pleasure numbing in its intensity. Through it all, Jason keeps your hips circling, pressure on your clit steady and unyielding through the aftershocks. He goes tense underneath you under the weight of his own orgasm, before relaxing into the bed. Both of you are breathing hard, his heart pounding in his chest under your ear.

When you can find the strength to move, you crawl up Jason’s chest, prop yourself up on your elbows so you can kiss him properly. The sheets have tangled up around your hips sometime during your orgasm and Jason trails irregular patterns into the soft skin of your bare shoulder blades. The kiss is slow, unhurried and aimless. There’s no sense of urgency and so kiss for the simple pleasure of his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth.

Pulling back you breath out, “Hi,” before resuming your ministrations, making sure no inch of his mouth is left unkissed.

He laughs. “Hi yourself, gorgeous. What a way to start the year off.”

And strictly speaking, that’s not true. You’d rung in the new year together at an infamous Wayne gala. Crisp champagne had bubbled in a crystal glass, the murmur of polite conversation and soft classical music performed by a live orchestra the soundtrack to the evening. You’d learned to stop asking what you were drinking early on, when Dick’s answer about a specific vintage had made you so nauseated at the price, you’d nearly thrown up someone’s yearly salary. Jason had kept circling the canapés, bringing you back little bites he’d thought you’d enjoy and grinning in satisfaction at your reactions. A few minutes before midnight, all of the guests had been directed to the rooftop garden of the hotel. There had been gasps at the first fireworks that had quickly turned to applause. Under the blooming golden light, Jason had looked so pretty, still capable of awe in the face of beauty. You’d kissed at the last stroke of midnight, pressed your foreheads and smiled eyes half closed.

The party had gone on for hours longer, socialites getting progressively more loose limbed (and lipped) as the alcohol flowed. The two of you had stolen more quiet moments together, but never longer than a few stolen kisses. As dawn started to crest over the skyline, the last few stragglers had left for bed.

You and Jason had stumbled back down to your borrowed hotel room, tipsy enough to weave convex lines through the halls. After struggling with the room key card, you had entered the room giggling and struggling to get each other’s clothes off. Shoes, an orphaned suit jacket, ripped stockings, and your gloriously sparkly party dress heaped on the floor a trail of evidence to your attempted debauchery. By the time the two of you had landed in the king sized bed, exhaustion had caught up with both of you. Within minutes sleep had claimed you, burrowed in a feather duvet and the most comfortable mattress you’d ever slept in.

Now it’s morning, and you’re making good on all the teasing promises of the previous evening. There’s a wet spot on Jason’s boxers and you’ve got the stubborn remains of mascara smeared around your eyes in a poor imitation of a panda. You’ll have to get up soon to deal with the clothes strewn all over your suite, start trying to see if anything can be salvaged for the short trip back home. But for now, there’s nowhere you’d rather be than right here. Starting off a new year in the arms of the man you love, with the promise of more pleasure just on the horizon

[beenbaanbuun]

top hat and cane w/ arriba!mingi

words - i don’t know…

genre - smut

warnings - arriba!mingi, mean dom!mingi, degradation (slut, dumb), semi public masturbation, cane fucking (i’m so sorry), clothed sex, p in v, no protection, cum eating, choking kind of??, restraining kind of?????, cumming inside, please send help :D

——————————————————————————

watching mingi fumble round the stage dressed as willy wonka wasn’t exactly something you found yourself attracted to

the man underneath was a different story

you quite often fumbled under mingi’s sharp gaze that stares you down like he’s a lion and you’re his prey

but the top hat and the cane? you’d have to pass up on that opportunity

at the end of the song he comes rushing off the stage in his usual mingi way; all gangly and sweet and with zero evidence of the persona he’d just been flaunting

but then his eyes land on you and he straightens up before strutting towards you

you feel the cold metal of his cane pressing against your chin and tilting your head up to look at him, and before you know it your mind is blank

he whips his sunglasses off and folds them up, trailing them down your neck to hook them over the neckline on your tshirt

you gulp as you feel his finger linger on the fabric for a few seconds, just tugging it down ever-so-slightly before releasing it

“what do we have here?” his voice has dropped an octave and it goes straight to your core

you squeeze your thighs together and hope he doesn’t notice

by the way he quirks his brow, you can tell he does

if you didn’t have a cane holding you in place, you’d have dropped your gaze by now but instead you have no choice but to let him stare you down

“pretty little thing, aren’t you?” he mutters as he lets his face dip in closer until his lips graze against your earlobe, “a dirty little slut by the looks of it too. you’re fooling no one, sweetie.”

his words completely numb your brain until all you can think is mingi, mingi, mingi again and again

but just as he forces your mind to take a nosedive into nothingness, he pulls away

his lips are gone, and the cane is gone, and all of a sudden your boyfriend is standing in front of you with his usual wonky grin

“i have to go back on stage soon, sunshine,” he pouts as he takes his hat off and places it gently on your head, “look after that for me until i’m finished, okay?”

and you nod, because there’s no way you can even begin to form a coherent sentence when your brain is still uselessly chanting his name

“good girl,” he giggles as he spins and passes you his cane before running off towards the stylists

you don’t watch the rest of the performance

you’re not sure you’ll be able to hold it together if you do

so instead you find an abandoned room somewhere backstage with nothing in it other than an old leather couch

you sit there, letting your short skirt lift up as you do so

your wet panties press directly against the leather, but you can’t find it in you to care about the mark it will inevitably leave

no, the only thing on your mind is the ache that sits low in your stomach

you could ignore it, but the longer you do the greater it gets

your clit is begging to be touched at this point, but you don’t know if you should

you don’t know how long you have left until the show is finished, and you have to be out front again to great your boyfriend and pretend that his stupid willy wonka cosplay hasn’t sent you spiralling into the depths of depravity

but judging by the noise outside, you assume that you maybe have 15 minutes until the show is over?

and you can be quick if you really want to

skip the self-foreplay and just go straight for the orgasm that you so desperately desire

with a sigh, you let your hand push your panties to the side and you relish the feeling of the cold air against your wet folds

you whine into the empty room as your fingers begin to rub against your slit, spreading the moisture up and down until you decide your clit is suitably lubed up

your fingers focus there next, rubbing gentle circles against the throbbing bundle of nerves that had been desperately begging for some relief ever since mingi called you a slut

he was kind of right, though

only a slut would be so desperately desperately playing with themselves in a public room, with a door that doesn’t even lock, on a sofa that isn’t theirs

the thought makes you moan, a mixture of anxiety and arousal bubbling up inside of you and causing your fingers to increase their pace

you’re quickly approaching your high, but it’s not enough

it’s on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t quite push yourself far enough to reach it

you need something inside of you

your eyes flicker to the side, landing on the cane

the head of it is a bulbous orb, and upon studying it for a few seconds, you reach the decision that it’s probably about the same width as your boyfriend’s cock

you whine at the thoughts rushing through your head, but before you can push them away, your idle hand is rushing forwards the grab the stem of the cane and pull it closer

the cold sphere is pressed to your core before you know it, and all it takes is a little pressure before it slips inside with a squelch

it’s cold and big, and it almost makes you squeal as you push it further inside, but god does it feel good

it stretches you open perfectly and you were right about it being the same size as mingi

it pushes at your gooey walls just like he does, and when it brushes against the squishy membrane that feels so fucking good, you finally let go

your orgasm is long and hard and leaves you deaf for just a few seconds

it would be fine, except for the fact that it means you don’t even notice the click of the door opening

“my, my,” a familiar voice grabs your attention and you turn your head quickly to where your boyfriend is shutting the door behind himself, “what do we have here?”

he walks to the corner of the room where an empty desk chair sits and grabs it

you watch as he takes it back the the door, using it to barricade the only way into the room

“dumb slut didn’t even make sure no one else would walk in,” he grunts as he turns to you, stalking closer and closer until he’s able to wrap a hand around your slack jaw, “although i bet you would’ve loved it wouldn’t you?”

you whimper as he crouches down just low enough to wrap a hand around the stem on the cane that still sits inside of you

he twists it once, letting it brush against your g-spot ever so gently

the way your eyes roll into the back of your head just makes him bark out a laugh

“you really were desperate, hm?” he tugs at the cane once more, pulling at it until he manages to completely pull it free

the ball glistens as your wetness coats it, dripping down it slowly

mingi studies it for a second before lifting it up to your face

“lick it clean,” he orders, “you messed it up so it’s your duty to clean it up, right?”

and you can’t argue with that logic, so you don’t

you let your tongue dart out and lick a stripe up the orb before fully wrapping your lips around it

you cheeks hollow out and you try your hardest to maintain eye contact with your boyfriend

but as you dip your head forward, the hat slips and covers your vision

you whine and lift your hand to take it off, but a sharp stinging sensation rings through it and you pull it back

“i thought i told you to look after that until i’m finished, slut,” he pushes it firmly back to where it sat before, “be a good girl and listen.”

mingi pulls the cane free with a pop

part of you expects him to just put it to the side and forget about it for a while as he fucks you into the couch

but instead you feel the thin base of it press against your chest as he pushes you back against the leather

it travels up to your chin so he can lift it once more

and when your eyes settle on his, all you can see is lust

pure, unadulterated lust

the cane retracts briefly, just long enough for mingi to undo his trousers and drop them along with his boxers

and then it’s back at your neck, only this time he’s holding it lengthways between his two hands and using it to pin you down

it’s gentle enough not to hurt you, but there’s still enough pressure for your breath to catch every time you inhale

“now, my little slut,” he grows as he straddles you, hard dick slipping against your folds, “use your pretty little hands and slip me inside, hm?”

you nod, well, as well as you can with a cane pressed against your throat

“y-yes, mingi,” you whimper as your hands go to grasp at the heavy appendage that’s leaking precum against your already stretched out hole

“good slut,” he spits out as you line him up so he can push inside, “let me fuck you just as good as my cane did. let me stretch you out and and fill you up, sweetie. it’s what little sluts like you deserve, isn’t it.”

he begins to thrust rhythmically into you, hips smacking against yours with such vigour and desperation that it reminds you of how you were playing with yourself not too long ago

it’s clear by his pants that he needs it just as bad as you do, and when his pace quickens, you realise that you are the cane in this situation

he’s just using you to get himself off, and fuck that’s hot

the thought makes you clench around him and he grunts loud and deep in response

“f-fucking play with yourself,” he says through clenched teeth, “wanna feel you c-cum around me, sweetie. always feels so good.”

and you do as he says as though it’s law

desperate fingers find your clit, just as they had earlier, and begin to rub sloppy circles against the wet bud

it’s still sensitive from your little self-pleasuring session and you can’t help the way your hips jerk up to meet his own

if his hands were free, you had no doubt he’d pin you down, but for now all he can do is glare

“did i say you could fucking move?” he says through gritted teeth, although the whine that follows it undercuts the domineering tone slightly, “f-fucking stay still or you won’t get anything.”

and you know that isn’t true - mingi’s never left you high and dry before, and you doubt the big softie is about to start now - but it still sends a wave of fear down your spine

sure, you’d already cum tonight, but there’s nothing wrong with being a little greedy

so you focus your mind on keeping your hips glued to the couch as you continue to chase the high that’s getting closer and closer

it happens a lot quicker this time, with an already sensitive clit and your boyfriend’s heavy cock pressing against your cervix again and again

before you know it, your body is quivering slightly and your walls are tightening against your boyfriend

the sensation makes his hips still against yours, and with a breathy moan, he releases his own load deep into you

the pressure of the cane is gone before you know it, quickly replaced by the pressure of mingi’s overgrown body as he lays down on top of you

his hand is quick to knock the top hat off of your head, and you watch as it bounces off of the couch, landing on the floor

fingers lace themselves within your hair and begin to rub against your scalp in a weird, half-hearted massage

“you did so well,” he finally mumbles against your ear, “such a good girl for me, sunshine.”

you nod, tiredly against his neck

“you were hot,” you mutter, “m’sorry i couldn’t wait for you to get here.”

he just chuckles

“you’re kidding, right?” he pushes himself up so he can see you properly, but you can’t help but whine at the loss of contact, “walking in on you fucking yourself with my cane was probably the hottest thing i’ve ever seen. i’ll be cumming to that memory forever.”

you giggle

“now come on, sunshine,” he slips out of you and stands up onto shaky legs, “let’s get you up and back to the hotel, okay? i need to take care of you and i’m sure as hell not doing it here.”

he pulls his pants back on and watches as you slip your panties back into place and smooth out your skirt

“good girl,” he whispers, “my good girl.”

[fastboatsmojito]

Some Depraved Scott Miller smut - I don’t even have a name for this oops

| A/N; I don’t have anything to say actually this was .. fun 🙂‍↕️ barking and drooling and and and

| CW; 18+ smut btc !! No gendered terms used, A little slapping (literally one described), Scott’s the usual level of mean, Established dom/sub relationship, just freak nasty in general sorry, Barely any plot, No condom mention (be safe blah blah blah)

——

It’d been a long week, not only were you drowning in paperwork, you were still recollecting yourself after a particularly rough encounter with a storm.

It was hailing hard one day and you’d forgotten your coat - leading to a few nasty bruises and a stern lecture about the ‘importance of outerwear’ from your co-worker turned boyfriend, Scott. He was always so assertive, you might find it hotter if it weren’t equally as aggravating.

You trudged back to your motel room for the night, it wasn’t nearly as good as being home but a long, hot shower always helped.

Right before you got to your room you were stopped. “Rough day?” Scott stood in front of your door, arms crossed as he examined your worn expression.

“Rough week.” You corrected, sighing with your whole body as he stood in front of your solace for seemingly no reason.

“What the fuck do you want, Scott?”

“Woah. Just checking in. What’s with the attitude?”

“I’m tired. I’d love to take a shower and go to sleep but someone is standing in front of my door.” You groaned, shoving him out of your way to unlock the door. Barely given enough time to shut it before he was picking you up and tossing you on the bed.

——

You didn’t realize this was what you really needed until you were face down on the bed in front of him, muffled cries into the pillow as he held your hands behind your back.

“As soon as my dick’s inside you all that attitude goes away. That’s all it takes, huh?” He crooned mockingly over you.

“Turn around.” He let go of your wrists and pulled out so you could turn over, hair sticking to the sweat across your forehead as he scanned over you. He moved his hands up your arms, fingers stopping and digging into a bruise over your shoulder as you winced.

“Scott-“ You whined, “you’re being mean.”

“Yeah. If you wanted me to be nice you should’ve acted like you deserved it.”

He relieved the bruise with a stroke of his thumb before he moved his hand to your cheek. Softly resting there for just a second before he pulled it back, a smack followed by a gasp followed by the slick sound of him pushing back into you filling the room. It was all rough and quick, your mouth barely able to keep up with your brain.

“Fuck-“ He quickly shoved two of his fingers into your mouth when you groaned at the stretch of him.

“I know, I know. Feels good, huh?“ You nodded, drool dripping down his fingers that were sliding against your teeth as he literally fucked the stress away.

“Mhm. But we got neighbors, baby. Gotta keep that pretty mouth of yours occupied.” He punctuated by shoving his fingers deeper, tears spilling from your eyes as you gaged.

You could barely think after the second mind-numbing orgasm, your knees bent towards your shoulders as his hand smoothed over the sore skin of your cheek.

“Scott I can’t-“ You mewled, legs shaking under him with every thrust.

“You can, come on.” And you did, finally relaxing and letting your grumpy old boyfriend take care of you for the night.

—

“Can’t sleep yet, honey. Let’s get that shower out of the way, yeah?”

—

He always let you sleep on him after a rough night like this, relaxing into his big, warm chest as his hand soothed over your back as you drifted off. He wasn’t always mean.

——

[koolaidoverliving]

Can you write a Laughing Jack smut?

IM SO FERAL FOR THIS CLOWN ISTG

can i write a laughing jack smut? 

YES the fuck i can. this clown is my bitch for life. unabashedly love him.

nsfw under cut, DNI if you're a MINOR or if you don't like this stuff.

LAUGHING JACK

GENERAL NSFW HEADCANONS

CW: Size Difference, Biting, Dehumanisation, Degradation, Mindbreaking, Sadism, Some Aftercare

the reader is gender neutral! no explicit mention of genitalia!

✦ Let's get this out of the way: his length is not going to fit inside of you all the way. Laughing Jack is huge. He's so much bigger than you in every way. The sheer impact of his thrusts leave you dizzied, yet wanting more.

✦ Laughing Jack is only here for his entertainment. He sees sex as a fun game, nothing more, nothing less. He wants to see how far he can go before your mind breaks and you can only speak in incoherent mumbles. You're like a toy to him. He'll fuck you while giggling, calling you cute, and pointing out how much smaller you are in comparison.

✦ He bites you hard enough to break skin, but not enough to be a major injury. He loves hearing your pained moans just as much as he loves hearing your pleasured ones. Not only that, but he'll graze his claws across your skin just to get a reaction out of you. 

✦ You'll go through a myriad of different positions. Laughing Jack wants to fuck you till your body is sore and quivering. Till your brain goes numb and you're drooling copious amounts of saliva.

✦ With dirty talk, he really only threatens you or degrades you for being so into getting fucked. "You filthy little thing~! Do you like this that much, hm?" "I wonder how much more of this you can take... Hehehe!"

✦ During oral sex, Laughing Jack shoves the length of his cock down your throat. You'll choke and gag, tear up and sniffle, but you take it like the dirty clownfucker you are. Laughing Jack continues to fuck your throat, giggling like he always does.

✦ You'll be on the receiving end for oral as well. Laughing Jack has a long tongue and he knows how to use it to pleasure you. He loves to run it over your skin, loves to push it inside of you and feel you squirm. His tongue feels so wet and so fucking good.

✦ Aftercare with Laughing Jack is a reward, not a necessity. Laughing Jack doesn't get tired. He'll most likely still tease you while you're struggling to form a single thought. But when it's entirely done, Laughing Jack will perform a clown routine for you! No cuddling here, sorry.

✦ Really, what is love to a demonic clown? He only loves having fun! Fun, fun, fun! And you're just the funnest little thing to him!