#but that one idk it just fucking creases me

[fic-dumpster]

Hate is such a strong word

Pairing: Bully!Ran Haitani x F!Reader

Word count: 860

Warnings: MDNI, hate fuck sort of, very confused and obsessed Ran, degradation, corruption kink, bullying, mean Ran, noncon, tongue kissing, PiV, cunnilingus, fingering, words such as cock/pussy/cunt/whore/bitch/slut, headcanon-ish format. Idk… let me know if I missed anything!

Bully!Ran who hates your guts. He sees you walking around all pristine and clean. Not a single hair was out of place. He hates that. Not even makeup he could imagine running down your face when he eventually makes you cry.

Bully!Ran who can’t stand your voice when you speak in class. He hates your laughter when you’re talking with your friends at lunch and above all, he despises your humming when you’re standing in front of your locker. His locker is in the same row and has to stand your shitty voice every damn time.

Bully!Ran who can’t even stand being near you so he makes Rindou throw your books to the floor, send your phone flying, and pull your well-kept hair. Ran sickly enjoys watching you on your knees after his brother trips you.

Bully!Ran who got tired of you. Tired of you not noticing all the things you made him feel.

Bully!Ran who one morning snatched you up from your last class, cornering you in the gym closet. Oh, how he relished in your begging. You were gonna lose your perfect attendance? He couldn’t care less. You were gonna miss an important class? Fuck that.

Bully!Ran who clamped your face in one hand, wishing that you at least wore some eyeliner or lipgloss so he could smear it all over your pretty face he so much despised. He has to make do with what he has, right? Your tears and his cum would decorate your skin so well.

Bully!Ran who has you squirming like the worm you are in his hold. His other hand quickly wrenched away your white shirt, buttons flying everywhere and a constricted scream interrupted your begging.

Bully!Ran who despite your clearly terrified eyes and shaking hands, didn’t feel an ounce of guilt. On the contrary, he felt euphoric. Your trashing subsided, you couldn’t fight him, you couldn’t get away and nobody was coming to save you. Once you realized that, you became more pliant in his grasp.

Bully!Ran who squeezed your chest to his heart’s content. Pulling one mound out of your frilly white undergarments. He squeezed until you gave a pained whimper, and he wanted more of that. The frenzy he didn’t even notice he had— tenfold.

Bully!Ran who saw things clearer now. Amid the craze, he had an epiphany as his eyes focused on your face and the little inhuman sounds you were making. He didn’t hate those… no… he didn’t hate you at all. He just hated you for not doing all those things to him. Not to your friends, not your teachers and especially not any male in the vicinity. They didn’t deserve to even be in your presence. This… all this he was witnessing belongs to him.

Bully!Ran who with a frustrated growl violently crashed his mouth with yours, swallowing your gasp of surprise.

Bully!Ran who felt his whole body ignite as his tongue commanded yours to comply. Pulling your tongue out, his teeth gripped it harshly. a quiet wail from you and he was instantly bending your neck back and licking. His tongue traveled all the way down to the crease of your chest to your lips, lapping at your mouth and you had no say in whether you like it or not.

Bully!Ran who had you inconsolably crying on the cold floor as he buried his face in your cunt. Your hands desperately tried to get him away but it was all a game to him— you weren’t moving him an inch.

Bully!Ran who kept your legs wrapped around his head, resting on his wide shoulders as he called you a messy needy slut for being so wet for someone you supposedly didn’t care about. Every word from him was a slap to your swollen pussy.

Bully!Ran who pushed his fingers in your cunt, telling you how you sounded like a bitch in heat, calling you a liar and a whore for him. The squelching sound of his fingers violently moving inside you had him feeling sick. So sick that he stirred his long fingers deeper, feeling that spongy spot that had you yelling out his name for the first time as his stomach felt a sudden gut punch and bursting sensation.

Bully!Ran who cursed once he realized he came in his pants. He was fuming. And just as fast, he had you on your back with your shredded panties in your mouth.

Bully!Ran who takes your writhing body in between his arms as your abused hole warmed his cock.

“Stay— fuck… stay fucking still, damn it.”

Oh, Ran was going to burst again at any moment if your warmth kept squeezing him like that. Slow, deep thrust left you out of breath. Ran stretching out your little tight cunt around him, and just like that he kept pounding into your creamy insides.

“Such a good girl, taking what she’s given,” he grunted against your temple, “I’m gonna mess you up so good— fuck… you like that? You want me to ruin you?” His hoarse laugh reverberated through your bodies. “You’re tightening down there. ‘m taking that as a yes.”

A.N: damnnnnm… the first thing I write for tr after my drought of two years is debauchery. Ta-da? 🤗 ✨ I still feel so out of touch with my words N E WAY! enjoy K bye 💋

[coldflasher]

currently one week into a two-week stay with a terrible relative who needed help recovering from an operation and because i'm the only competent adult who was willing to do it (my dad literally lives with her but is both incompetent and unwilling) and i just. do not know how much more of this i can tolerate

she has the most TERRIBLE opinions and every morning when i sit down she'll just say something AWFUL and i have no choice but to respond because how on earth can you sit and listen to someone say something so repugnant and NOT say something. the one good thing i can say about her is that she isn't a tory but every other terrible evil little box you could tick, she probably fits it

i'm sure you're wondering, quite fairly, why i have even come here knowing this is the case. just to clarify, she has NEVER been this overtly awful before. like don't get me wrong, i knew she had some questionable opinions and i've butted heads with her about her views before but it's never been on this level. i think that now i'm an adult she feels free to go full mask off with everything and i'm like listen i'm usually in favour of unmasking but in this case can you put that shit back on, right the fuck now, preferably with superglue. and then apply said superglue to your mouth

the only reason i haven't just fucking walked out already is because my brother is coming down here on wednesday to see her for the first time since he started on testosterone, and i am genuinely concerned about how this woman will react because like. i'm sure saying she's also a transphobe will come as a shock to no one and for obvious reasons no one has told her... but when she actually sees him and hears him speak in person i feel like she's going to you know. catch on. fairly quickly. and i need to be here so i can back him up against the potential fallout and so i can get him out if things turn nasty. like it's not that i think she'd be able to DO anything, she's an old woman and she's just had surgery, but like. i'm obviously not gonna leave my brother to deal with that shit by himself

but yeah every minute i spend here is slowly crushing my soul to powder and making me feel unwell at the idea that there are real people who fucking think like this. and not only do they think it but they're willing to SAY IT and think it's a normal fucking thing to believe!!! and then when i go "what the fuck is wrong with you" and argue back she acts like there's something wrong with ME!!!! LIKE I'M THE BAD PERSON??? HUHHHHHHH???

[running-in-the-dark]

a super fun thing that my brain is really good at is hearing a random fact and remembering it forever. but only if it's bad :)

[nicksolemnlyswears]

JUST TEASIN’

summary: you call joel an old man…amongst other names

pairing: joel miller x reader

word count: 4.4k [i need to learn how to keep things concise]

warnings: 18+, cursing, spanking, p in v, fingering, oral (male receiving), age gap? totally legal though, joel's in his early 40s and reader is in her early 30s, joel is an ass guy which is strange cause i always make my men boob guys, idk i guess this is pretty tame

a/n: as a joke i tend to call pedro and joel peepaw cause he’s older and a total dilf but i love these men so fucking much. i'll be the first to get on my knees

thought i’d make a sweet oneshot about how they’d react to you calling them old. it’s a mix of fluff and smut. a little something for everyone!

also don’t judge me, this is my first time writing for joel 🥺

there’s a little nudge to another favorite fictional men of mine

i want to thank @yxtkiwiyxt for providing me with all the pedro pascal pictures and gifs and movie trailers and for ranting with me all day every day about how amazing this human is… if anyone is to blame about this oneshot it’s her ❤️

It’s one of those lazy Sunday mornings where everyone sleeps in, leaving the Miller household at complete ease. There are no responsibilities to tend to and nowhere to go.

You’re the only one awake, singing quietly under your breath and flipping pancakes until they’re nice and golden. Joel will come seeking you out soon, missing the warmth of your body and Sarah will follow when Joel cracks her door open to let the sweet smell of batter waft into her room.

No matter how hard you try you’re always the first one up. Sometimes you stay in bed with your husband, tracing figures on his bare skin until he pulls you into him and kisses your head good morning, raspy voice begging you for five more minutes.

But most of the time you decide on getting up and having an early start to your day, which includes making breakfast and sorting through your work emails.

The puppy Sarah adopted a couple weeks ago, sits on your feet, licking your legs as if begging for the fluffy sweetness of the pancakes. He had a taste of it when batter dripped on the floor, he licked it up before you had the chance of cleaning it.

Lost in your little world, singing to the tune of Lana del Rey you fail to notice your husband coming down the stairs. Joel leans against the kitchen island admiring you in your distracted state. The loose brown curls in a disarray at the top of his head.

His eyes scan you from head to toe, noting your messy hair pulled up to a half ponytail half bun thing he can’t begin to explain. Down they go to the cropped tshirt with his company’s logo on the back. The frayed edges are the byproduct of your use of kitchen scissors to crop it yourself.

Joel bites his lip as he ogles at your ass and thick thighs framed by the tiniest cotton shorts he’s ever seen. They fail to cover the bottom of your butt cheeks, exposing a sliver of the indigo panties and the crease where thighs meet butt.

Unable to stay away, Joel wraps his warm arms around your waist as he presses a kiss to your temple. He squeezes you to him, bodies pressed flushed to reveal the stiffness in his pajama pants.

The puppy wags his tail in the presence of his favorite human, standing on two legs to call his attention. The man didn’t want him in the first place but was out voted by the females in the household.

“Morning,” Joel murmurs, placing kisses all over your cheeks and down your neck until he finally presses a warm kiss on your shoulder where he rests his chin to look over at the stovetop.

“Morning old man,” you say with a giggle as his scruffy beard tickles your skin. Your lips press against his in a quick kiss, muffling his sigh of disappointment.

“Don’t start, sweetheart,” he warns. His lips brushing against your ear. Joel’s hands find themselves under your tshirt, his thumbs ghosting over your underboob. At the same time the fingertips of his other hand teasingly dip on the waistband of your shorts.

“Or what?” You say with a bite to your lip, flipping over the last batch of pancakes. Couple more seconds and they would’ve burned—that’s how much he distracts you.

“It’s too early for this!” Sarah’s high pitched voice yells. “Not in the kitchen and not in front of the baby, please!”

The puppy scrambles over to Sarah, jumping into her arms. He recognizes she’s the one who will cave and give him scraps of food.

Joel, startled, takes his hands off of you, facing Sarah with an apologetic smile, not that she sees it as she covers her eyes with a hand. “Are you decent? Can I look now? I’m really hungry if you don’t mind.”

You laugh loudly, shaking your head at Sarah’s dramatics. She takes after Joel and is well on her way to beat him at his own game.

“We’re not doin’ anythin’,” Joel mumbles, sitting on one of the kitchen island stools and petting the pups fluffy head, and the ear that flipped over cutely.

“Not yet,” you whisper to him as you place his stack of pancakes in front of him.

“I heard that!” Sarah yells, covering her ears this time. Joel laughs, nudging her shoulder and telling her to pass the syrup.

You lean across from them, grabbing a sliced strawberry to plop into your mouth. Sarah takes over the conversation as you and Joel share a glance. This is far from over.

Later on the day you head outside with a tray of lemonade and pie in your hands. You’ve gotta take care of your dear husband before the Texas heat gets the best of him.

You nudge Joel’s leg with your foot. He’s under the beat up truck, fixing some odd part. He has the means to replace the old thing but he likes to remind you that ‘Betsy,’ as he’s named his truck, is a part of the family and will never be replaced.

“Thanks, darlin,‘“ he drawls, wiping his dirty hands on a random rag he found on the bed of the truck.

Joel takes a second too long to get up from the floor. You see the hesitance in his eyes as he tries to think the best way to stand without hurting or pulling a muscle.

This is your chance. “Need help there, grandpa?” You pipe up, resting the tray on the portable table scattered with tools.

Joel openly glares at you while you smile broadly at him. It’s not often you make fun of his age, or rather, the age gap between the two of you. It’s only when you’re feeling a particular sort of way.

The age gap between the two of you isn’t the craziest but it’s large enough for people to notice. Joel is easily through the first half of his fourth decade, while you are barely entering your third.

“Watch your mouth,” Joel warns you, standing up quickly despite the cracking of his knees and the ache on his lower back.

Your eyes spark when he grabs the glass of cool lemonade and begins chugging it. The drops of sweat sliding down his neck and into the damp collar of his shirt stealing your attention and any innocent thought you’ve might’ve had about him. They weren’t many to begin with.

You clench your thighs together as you imagine licking that same trail, tasting his salty skin. Say what you want but you love a man that works with his hands and gets all dirty and grimy.

Joel catches onto the glazed look covering your eyes and grasps your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. His body gravitating towards yours as if nature demanded it.

You’re overly conscious of the motor oil covering his hands if not you would’ve sucked his thumb into your mouth, reminding him just exactly you can do with your tongue.

“What’s in that pretty lil head of yours, darlin’?”

Him. It’s all about him. He’s always interrupting whatever sane thought you have. Scenarios of you being bent over the hood of the truck as he sinks his aching length from behind. You riding him in the front seat as you’ve done on more than one occasion, fogging up the windows. The time he was knuckles deep inside of you, teasing fingers drenched during his lunch break.

“How good gray looks on you,” you reply, diverting the conversation somewhere else entirely. A delicate fingers wraps around the charming curl that constantly falls over his forehead, twirling it around.

Joel doesn’t take kindly to your comment, rolling his eyes and clicking his jaw as he lets go of you to return to the truck. Your hand which had been playing with his curl drops to your side as you cock your hip to assess him.

He’s much too aware of the age gap, it makes him insecure. Like you’ll one day realize you’re with an old man and leave him for someone younger.

Except in your eyes he’s the most perfect man alive. The grey streaks of hair that mix with the typical brown of his curls give him an air of authority, making him look dashing in all ways. A silver fox. Strong muscles from working manual labor most of his life are now covered with a healthy layer of fat but remain strong nonetheless. Warm brown eyes that sweep you off your feet every morning as soon as they open.

That man is aging like fine wine and he doesn’t begin to realize it. You feel extremely lucky to be the only one to enjoy it…squeaky joints and all.

Joel is experienced and mature and loyal. He simply wants to have a nice life with his family. A family you’re now a part of. It’s all a woman could ask for.

“You know I love you,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around him as he leans over the hood.

“Love to torture me,” he scoffs, taking hold of one of your hands affectionately. He can never stay mad at you.

“I don’t know what you mean? I brought you lemonade and even that apple pie you love so much,” you feign innocence, pressing a kiss to the middle of his back.

Facing you with a sigh, he lets his heavy hands fall on your hips, “What’re you playing at?”

“Me? Nothing,” you say with a wicked smile, “I’m gonna go with Sarah to the mall to get her homecoming dress. Will you be alright here with Ghost?”

He’s quickly distracted by the words Sarah and Homecoming. His babygirl is growing too fast, starting High School and going on dances with boys. She hasn’t told him yet if she’s been invited by someone and he hopes it stays that way.

There’s no way he’s letting her go with a date and you can’t convince him other wise. If she wants a date she can take the puppy she adopted, Ghost. Joel is determined to teach the ball of fur how to defend his daughter.

“Here,” he says, pulling out his wallet to hand you his credit card.

“No, it’s my treat!” You say, pushing his hand away.

“Take it,” Joel insists, trying to slip it into the tight pair of jeans you’re wearing. Fuck. How didn’t he notice until now.

It should be illegal to wear jeans that make you look THAT good. The blue material hugs your thighs tightly and lifts your perky ass to heaven—not that you other wise need it.

He doesn’t hold back and slides his palms on your back pockets, giving you a firm squeeze. You stumble, falling onto him with a weak protest.

“‘M so fucking lucky you’re my woman,” he groans, taking another feel. Temporarily forgetting the conversation at hand, yet another comment directed at his age snaps Joel back to reality.

“Honey, I know I married an older man but it wasn’t for your money,” you tease again, patting his cheek and removing his hands from your pockets—credit card and all.

A sharp slap to your ass, startles you, eliciting a cheeky giggle. All this teasing and you’re leaving him home alone with the mutt.

You don’t apologize, you’ll never apologize for teasing him. Unless it’s in the right circumstances…in his bed.

Towards the end of the night you finish pushing him to the edge of no return. Remember, opportunities are always around when you’re determined.

“Dad, can you sign this for school?” Sarah comes into the living room where you and Joel are watching a movie. Ghost’s head is plopped on his lap, where Joel had been ‘forced’ to pet him.

“What’s this for?” Joel tries to read the paper but has to keep it at arms reach to be able to read it. Failing, he searches for his glasses until Sarah points at his head where they’ve been resting for half the night, nestled between his curls.

You stifle a laugh as you think of what to say. “Sorry Sarah, good old peepaw needs his glasses to read.”

It’s clear you’re pushing it far as Joel freezes only to glare at you. If looks could kill you’d be six feet underground. Sarah laughs until her belly hurts, repeating the word peepaw between breaths.

“You two are bullies,” Joel shakes his head in disbelief, signing the permit and handing it to Sarah who is wiping her tears away.

“I’m heading to bed, goodnight old man,” Sarah tells a pouting Joel, kissing his cheek and running up the stairs. “Come on, Ghost. Bedtime!”

“Peepaw? Really?” Joel raises his eyebrows at you when both Sarah and Ghost are gone.

You shrug feigning innocence, hiding your smile with the edge of the blanket. ”Yeah, peepaw. It’s cute.”

“It ain’t cute,” Joel kisses his teeth before turning off the TV and standing from the couch, leaving you behind.

“Where are you going?” You call after him.

“To bed,” he dryly responds, shutting off the lights and climbing the stairs. He only leaves the lamp by the couch on. How considerate of him.

“What? Joel it’s barely 10!” Hiding your satisfaction is difficult. Joel’s ticked off, a day of calling him old will do that. It’s exactly what you hoped for.

“Guess that’s what old men do, darlin,’” Joel says sarcastically half way up the stairs.

With a hand over your mouth, you follow him, “Honey, come on. Don’t be angry, it’s harmless teasing. Are you really heading to bed?”

Joel turns at the top of the stairs, glaring down at you, “You really think I’m an old man?”

“Technically speaking you are an older man,” you quip, scrunching your nose cutely.

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Joel crosses his arms, reprimanding you for your cheekiness.

“I dunno why you get like this, you should know I love my older men,” you say sultrily, although it falls on deaf ears as Joel retreats to the bedroom.

When you step into the bedroom you’re instantly pressed against the door, slamming it shut. Joel’s sneaky hands lock it. “You’re playing a dangerous game, darlin.’ Don’t make me bend you over my knee and give you a spanking.”

The thought alone makes you shudder in delight. Wetness instantly seeping into your underwear. You’ve finally succeeded. You have him right where you want him.

With your hands braced on his chest you deliver the final blow. “You sure your knees can take it?”

Disbelief flashes in Joel’s eyes, “That’s it!”

Grabbing your arms Joel leads you to the bed where he sits on the edge. He roughly pull down on your jeans, panties and all, leaving them pooled on your knees, limiting your mobility.

With another tug he lays you face down on his lap, holding your wrists behind you in a tight grip. Joel shakes his head at your upturned ass that’s waiting a little too eagerly for his touch.

Delight bubbles out of you and Joel is determined to take you down a notch or two. Let’s see how you handle this after fucking with him all damn day.

The first swat comes without warning, eliciting a gasp from you. It’s sharp and borderline painful. A red handprint magically appearing on your left butt cheek.

Joel massages and paws at the skin, getting ready to deliver another one. “Cat got your tongue?” He questions at your sudden silence.

You try to look over your shoulder and say, “Is that all you got?”

A sarcastic chuckle leaves Joel’s mouth. Then, three fast slaps are delivered, successfully earning him a whine from your pretty lips. He rubs on the sweltering flesh, easing some of the sting.

Finding their way to your thighs his fingers dig between them to cup your pussy. It’s no surprise that it’s warm, messy and slick. Clear strands extending from it to the inside of your thighs and covering his digits.

You’re a fucking vixen who loves to torture him for your own fucking pleasure and he’s the damn fool who falls for it each and every time.

“Touch me,” you huff, wiggling on his lap to grind on his hand, hoping to gain more contact with his coated digits.

“Touch you? Oh, darlin’ you’re not getting off the hook so easily,” Joel mentions darkly, retrieving his hand and landing yet another smack to your ass, making it ripple from the impact.

“Ow!” You flinch yet remain in the same position, expecting more. You fucking love when Joel gets rough with you. It’s a shame you have to gauge it out of him like this.

“Wasn’t this what you wanted? Hm?” Joel’s asks and when he doesn’t get a response his hand flies down once more. “What was it you called me?”

There’s a beat of silence before his hand strikes, this time aiming towards the middle. “Gra-grandpa,” you stutter at the small burst of pleasure.

“Mhm, what else darlin’?” He prompts again. His middle finger tracing the slit of your pussy, feeling you grow impossibly wetter. His pretty little wife is always so reactive to his touch.

“Old man.”

The stinging in your skin grows warmer, no doubt turning a considerable shade of cherry red. Yet the ache in your cunt obscures it all. The scraps of attention only makes your arousal worse.

“I think there was one more,” Joel hums, urging you on. His slick finger teasing your weeping entrance.

“P-peepaw,” you gasp when Joel pushes it in until his knuckle meets your delicate skin.

“That’s right, peepaw,” Joel repeats absentmindedly, pushing his middle finger in and out. Listening intently to the squishing sound your pussy makes.

He’ll have you calling him something else by the end of the night.

Tight walls grip his finger like a vice, refusing to let go. Soft puffs of air tumble out of your mouth and he knows your eyes are closed as you concentrate on the minimal pleasure he’s providing you with. It’ll never be enough to make you cum but it’ll keep you bothered.

“Get up,” Joel orders with a softer smack to your bottom, wiping his slick covered finger on your skin. He helps you up from the restrained position he kept you in and makes work of taking off your clothes.

Joel pulls and tugs on your shirt roughly, throwing it mindlessly across the room. He palms your tits briefly, pinching one of your nipples to make you whine his name. With cracking knees he kneels on the floor to help you out your jeans and underwear, kneading your thighs with his big strong hands.

He catches a glance of your reddening skin and feels a prickle of pride at the mark he left. Most of it will fade by morning but you’ll feel it nonetheless.

Sitting back on the edge of the bed he wordlessly motions you to get on your knees. A wicked smile spreads on your cheeks as you do as you’re told, kneeling between his spread legs.

Eager hands grasp his belt, undoing the worn leather to get to the button of his jeans. He provides no help, leaning back on his hands and simply watching you with hooded and expecting eyes.

You pull down on his jeans and underwear, revealing the happy trail that comes down his navel to the patch of brown at his pelvis.

His hard cock springs free once you’ve worked his pants down enough. A throaty groan coming from above you at the release of tension.

“Mmm,” you hum, grasping his length in your fist. His eyes meet yours when you look up to press a kiss to the tip, your hand pulling the thin skin back to reveal it.

“Stop with the teasin,’” Joel growls audibly, chastising you.

You rolls your eyes obnoxiosuly, “You’re no fun, g-“

A hand flies to your hair, gripping the roots tightly. Your eyes fly open, starting up at Joel. “You sure you want to finish that sentence, babygirl?”

“Maybe not,” you shrug with a pout, your hand mindlessly pumping his length.

“That’s what I thought.” Joel keeps his grip on your hair, pulling it back to see every detail of you taking his cock into your pretty mouth.

Your tongue goes flat against the underside of his shaft, tracing the vein that runs along his length and letting saliva drip all down and into your fisted hand. Joel watches intently as your lips wrap around the angry red tip of his cock.

You start off slow taking more of his length with each bob of your head. Your eyes never leaves his face, observing every small reaction he makes. The sharp intake of breath when your tongue grazes his tip, the furrowing of his eyebrows, the bobbing of his adam’s apple as he fails to keep his moans in.

The sudden jerk of Joel’s hips causes your eyes to water and screw shut. The initial intrusion of his cockhead unexpected yet welcome. Joel throws his head back, “That’s a fucking good girl.”

Those magic words make everything worth it as you messily continue to suck and lick every inch of his cock. Neither the tears in the corner of your eyes nor the saliva dripping down his length stop you from tasting him.

You swear you’re dripping on the floor as your pussy flutters at his pleased words. You could touch yourself but all your energy and attention goes to pleasing the man above you.

The pain of kneeling hard wood floor for an extended period of time doesn’t bother you and the ache on your jaw is barely noticeable because all your concentration is on Joel and making him feel good.

Joel continues to set the pace, his grip tight on your scalp. “Fuck, just like that,” he moans when you tease the crown of his cock expertly.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Joel’s voice lilts in a reprimanding voice.

A string of saliva connects you to the tip of him as your hand continuing to work on the rest of his length.

Joel takes note of your red rimmed eyes and flushed nose as well as in your swollen lips and moussed hair. The picture of you completely filthy and sexy.

Joel cups the back of your neck, bringing you up to his height. He brings you into a sloppy kiss consisting of teeth and tongue and saliva. Joel loves that can taste himself in your mouth. A job well done.

You straddle his lap so his cock grazes your dripping pussy, tugging needily at his tshirt. “Take it off,” you beg. Your lips separate for a brief second as the shirt comes off before they smash back together.

He complies but quickly reminds himself that this all started because you were calling him old. He can’t be quick to reward you.

You foolishly believe that’s it and you get to have him. Eagerly you try to sink into his cock but he holds you still, not letting you take him to the hilt.

“Who’s the tease now?” You pant against his lips, stealing another long kiss before whispering in his ear begging him to take you, to use you.

“I like to see you begging for it.” That’s Joel’s response as he pushes you off of him.

You protest but fall silent when he removes his remaining clothes. God you’re like a teenager desperate to fuck with clothes and all.

It drives Joel nuts the way you look at him with lust filled eyes. You bite your lip as you take him in all his glory, hands reaching to touch his chest.

He pulls you back to him, his cock wedged between the two of you. The saliva covering it, sticking to your skin. He cups your face, “You have something to say?”

“Nope.”

Joel to cos his head in disappointment, pushing you into bed and maneuvering you till your head is buried in the pillows and your ass is high in the air. It’s tinged a dozen shades of pink and red from his hands.

You wiggle your hips offering yourself to him. Air hits your pussy, giving you an idea of how aroused you are. That’s what happens whenever you have the pleasure of going down in Joel.

Joel grips himself, spreading his pre before pumping his hand. Smack. His hand flies down to strike your ass once more. Your back arches when Joel teases your entrance with the tip. He runs it up and down your slit, wetting it with your slick. He lightly pushes into you so only the tip is inside before he pulls out again.

“Please fuck me,” you plead breathlessly, attempting to rock back to get more of him inside you.

Joel laughs. “Now you’re nice and polite. Is there something else you want to tell me?” He asks expecting an apology.

“No,” you repeat stubbornly.

He’ll get you soon enough. There’s no way you’ll resist.

Joel’s cock brushes against your clit, making you jump and moan. He does it again and again. Your pussy clenches desperately wanting him inside of you.

“You sure? You don’t want to apologize?” He gives you another chance. Sinking his cock deeper into you to give you a taste before he pulls out.

You huff and pout but you can’t take it anymore. You need him. “I’m sorry!”

“Now, was that so hard,” Joel grunts, pushing his length all the way in, rewarding you.

You bury your head into the pillow, stifling the guttural moan that rips from your throat. You could die like this suffocated and blissfully impaled on Joel’s cock and be happy.

With a tight grip on your waist Joel fucks into you at his own pace, watching how easily you accept him, covering him with your essence. It feels fucking fantastic.

His skin slaps against yours rhythmically. You swear you can cum at that moment but Joel knows all your tells and he slows his pace, pushing into you only when the tip remains. Long, slow strokes keeping you from cumming.

“I wanna cum,” you cry out frustrated but he ignores you, edging you.

“If you want to cum tonight you have to stop calling me old,” Joel grits. This is torture for him as much as it is for you.

“I said I’m sorry,” you sob into the pillow, your back arching as you try and take matters into your own hands. Smack, another spank, warning you to stop.

“Will you stop calling me grandpa?”

You have the audacity to fucking hesitate. He’s serious about not letting you cum but he’s confident he’ll get you to cave in.

Joel pulls out his cock when you refuse to answer. He instantly misses the warmth and tightness of your walls. His cock is soaked with your slick, a creamy white substance covering him from root to tip.

Licking his middle and ring fingers he replaces his cock, feeling your walls clench around them. He pumps them angling them downward to reach that spot inside of you, his other hand pressing on your lower back so you arch more.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp when this thumb presses on your bud. An orgasm quickly building. “Please Joel.” You wanted to cum around his cock not his fingers but at this point you’ll take anything you can get. Your mind is completely clouded and years for release.

“Did you reconsider what you wanted to call me?” Joel curves his fingers, quickening the pace.

“Yes,” you whine as your hips grind against his hand.

“And what’s that?” His fingers are sticky, your essence dripping down his hand.

“Please, daddy,” you cry abashedly, hiding your reddening face in the pillows.

“I didn’t hear ya’ darlin’. How about you look at me when you speak?” Joel dares to say while his fingers continue to drive into you.

Fuck, your legs are shaking and the knot continues to tighten in your belly. You have to say it or Joel will stop. You turn your head to meet his eyes, “Please, daddy.”

“That’s more like it,” Joel’s raspy voice says, removing his fingers when you’re at the cusp once more.

You audibly groan in frustration but it’s interrupted when Joel eases his cock back into you Fucking you just as you want it, hard and fast.

The bed sheets are fisted in your hands as you hold on. Your nipples brushing against the bed with each thrust. It doesn’t take long at all for you both to titer over the edge. Your pussy squeezing tightly around him, milking him for all he’s worth.

When Joel pulls out you fall to lie on your stomach, catching your breath. He lies beside you doing the same. Sharing a glance you both start laughing.

“Next time you want it rough just tell me,” Joel shakes his head at you. He knew all along and yet it still pissed him off.

“It’s not the same, honey,” you sigh, kissing his shoulder. The nearest part of him you can reach without moving too much.

The following morning you wake up with a kink in your back and Joel being the ever loving husband brings you painkillers to bed where you’re lying still, “Take these grandma. They’ll make you feel better.”

He won’t ever call you ‘grandma’ again. The daggers you sent him were fucking terrifying.

listen...typically i'm not the biggest fan of the daddy kink...but when it works, it works

[keeksandgigz]

18+ smut ahead !!!

older!coworker!eddie

this is kinda gross-ish if u don’t like it don’t interact <333

It’s disgusting, really, the way he has you bent over the dirty sink in the staff bathroom, sending you on your break so he could finally get his fill of you, so cruelly denied to him. You like to tease him with the idea of letting him have you, often bartering an earlier dismissal or a later shift on the schedule in exchange for your soft lips wrapped around him.

God knows how many times he’s scheduled you to close alone with him, turning off the cameras in the stores just so that he could get a taste of you, hanging on to the creaky shelves of the store for dear life as tears weep down your thighs and onto his face, where he’s stuffed his face down your dress, fingers bruising into your hips.

This time isn’t any different, really. “Can't believe you let me do this to you.” He pants over your bare back, feeling the plush of his lips trace your spine “M gonna take care of you, sweet girl, don't you worry.”

You respond with a whine, as his hand creeps around your face to cup at your mouth. He molds you and moves you as he pleases, and you let him. Even when his thrusts get a bit violent and your eyes seem to find a better home behind your head, a sharp smack to your ass brings you back down to earth, trying to squirm away from the never- changing overwhelm of pleasure.

“Don’t run from me” he singsongs in between grunts, his grip at the crease of your hips, letting the fat there hug his fingers, as you feel his nails dig into your skin, his rings pinching at you “You wanted this, didn’t you?” he continues, removing his hand from your mouth for a split second, to hear a pornographic mhm! escape the fullness of your lips, bitten raw from Eddie’s ministrations a moment before, as he picked you up and sat you down on the sink.

“One of these days” he begins, his smoker’s lungs not allowing him much reprieve between his rough thrusts into you and his ragged breath. “One of these days, I’ll take you out, huh pretty girl? After work, jus’ me and you. Take you on a nice date, bring you home” a sharper thrust comes after that, your head becomes smushed against the mirror, your ragged breath fogging up the glass.

“Fuck you on a real bed, would you like that? I’d be so good to you baby” he almost pleads, as if he was a dumb teenager trying to convince you to run away with him. His tone is pouty, condescending. He knows that he could get you to do whatever he wanted if he asked, and the thought of it makes you weak in the knees.

You know he only has a few thrusts left, with only five minutes of your break remaining. The loud schlick sounds fill up the dingy, neon- lit bathroom, your ears ring as strings of fuck, you’re so tight and your muffled cries against his hand accompany Eddie’s impeding release. Not for you, not when you’ll be closing with him in a couple hours.

He spills himself into you, biting on your shoulder to muffle the loud grunt that escapes him. He quickly tucks himself back into his black trousers, pulling up your panties with a wicked grin.

“I’ll see you at closing time, sweet girl”

_

lmao idk what this was (i think i’m ovulating)

(pssst @littlexdeaths this is for u)

[kitten4sannie]

ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ ꜰᴏʀᴍ | ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ

pairing: dilf! san x boytoy! wooyoung x fem! reader

genre: smut <3

summary: you search for a rebound at your local club after a break up. the club owner and his favorite boyfriend are there to satisfy your needs.

w.c: 3.3k

warnings: daddy dom kinda switch! san (almost chewed my fingers off writing him like this trust), dom! wooyoung (he’s kinda passively there when it comes to reader but i promise he’ll be more prominent in part two~), subby good girl! reader, woosan, alcohol use, reader is not drunk but sufficiently tipsy, daddy kink, dirty talk, pet names (angel, princess, pretty girl, etc), teasing, possessiveness, praise, voyeurism/exhibitionism, body worship, grinding, kissing, marking, fingering, double? blowjob? idk (san gets head while giving it too oop-) , deep-throating, slight hair pulling, snowballing

a/n: hii guess who’s back from the dead just in time for the cb? <3 and i brought a present ~ a naughty one hehe :3 the inspo came from those pics above bc they look so expensive and cunty and so yummy ugh and THEN san decided to strip at the mama awards and now i’m ILL and ready to howl at the moon anyways !!this is out of pocket like usual and i put my whole kitty into it okayyy so i hope you enjoy and pls lemme know if you’re excited for part two >< <33

song rec: incubator by ph-1, gun by doja cat, wine pon you also by doja cat feat. konshens (every time i hear the last part it reminds me of san’s dance cover hnnnnhgg)

“Girl, you better slow down on that drink,” the woman sitting beside you at the bar warned, resting her forearms down on the cool surface of the sleek marble countertop, continuing to watch you slurp down a long island iced tea. “I’m not about to hold your hair up for you later.”

“Can you leave me alone? I’m grieving over here, god,” you whined to her with your straw still in between your pouting, quivering lips, your eyes brimming with tears. “And for the record, he broke up with me over text. Text.”

She shook her head. “You are not about to cry over a man right now.”

You pushed your empty glass away, before dramatically pointing a finger into your chest, causing the strap of your dress to droop down your shoulder a bit. “You’re right, but I can still be a mess if I want to, thank you very much.”

“Well, you’re certainly achieving that,” she stated, idly sipping on her own drink, looking you up and down until you felt like you had to prove something to her.

“Okay, fuck this,” you muttered, pushing yourself off of the barstool and pulling your dress down where it was beginning to rise up near your ass, sniffling a bit.

“Where are you going?”

Pulling out a small tube from the v-neck of your dress to apply a fresh coat of lip gloss, you smacked your lips together and motioned your hand to the vast amounts of sweaty, drunk people grinding on each other on the opposite side of the club. “I’m gonna get some rebound dick. Don’t wait up.”

The woman smiled to herself as she watched you disappear into the sea of people, still just sipping on her drink. Little did you know, someone else was already waiting for you in that crowd. And they came as a package deal.

-

“I want her, Sannie,” Wooyoung chimed to the older man that was sitting beside him on the comfy VIP couch, the man’s arm wrapped protectively around his waist. The younger man took a finger off of his fruity drink to point at the woman that was feeling herself up with her body pressed to an unnamed man on the dance floor across from them, charmed by the unbothered, almost melancholic expression imprinted on her flushed face, like she was just waiting for someone like them to take care of her, to make her pretty face flush for a different reason.

San followed Wooyoung’s manicured nail until it led to the sight of you, a few wrinkles etched into his skin near his lips and where his eyes creased with amusement. “Mmm. Shall I leave you to your own devices then? Daddy can watch you seduce that pretty girl from here, can’t he?” His smile deepened when Wooyoung shifted beside him, his thigh pressing into San’s larger one, knowing his plaything was already getting hot under the collar. San held Wooyoung’s chin between his ringed fingers, leaning in to murmur, “And you’ll be a good boy and bring her to me once you get her nice and wet, won’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Wooyoung replied breathily, barely getting his words out when the man pulled him in for a heated kiss.

Just when Wooyoung began to lean into him, his hands resting on San’s leather-bound chest, the older man broke the kiss, wiping the other’s saliva from his mouth. “Get going, naughty boy.”

Despite being dizzy with need, Wooyoung nodded, obediently nodding as he stood up from the couch. He fixed his hair and checked his makeup, before heading into the sea of sweaty, lust-drunk people to find you.

You were almost too busy rolling your body along to the hypnotic flow of the house track that was bumping through the speakers around you to notice the warmth of someone else pulling you near him, his hand sliding onto the small of your back and his lips against your ear, goosebumps forming across your skin.

“Can I steal you away?” Wooyoung whispered in a low voice, smiling at your slow nod, your eyes practically dilating at the sight of him. You didn’t know angels frequented night clubs. That was news to you. The both of you silently watched as his veiny hands slowly slid onto your hips, his fingers squeezing into them just enough to make you shiver.

He brought you back against him with a gentleness that made you a little weak in the knees, moving his hips against yours, guiding you against his body to the pulsing beats of the song.

Desperate to be needed by the obscenely attractive stranger, you took it upon yourself to grind back against him, feeling his cock harden against your ass through his satin pants.

“Fuck, baby, don’t you know what’ll happen if you keep doing that?” he exhaled into your ear, his fingers moving down slightly to squeeze your thighs.

You turned your head back to meet his searing gaze, licking your lips, your eyelids lowering. “What’s going to happen?”

Glancing to the side to make sure San was still watching, which he was, with a hand clutching his upper thigh, Wooyoung looked back to you, his hands moving further outwards to feel the sides of your ass, encouraging your dress to move up little by little, replying, “We’ll have to play with you, angel.”

“Yes, please,” you breathed out, resting your head against his chest, allowing him to feel up your body, his hands groping along your abdomen to your tits, the cogs inside your head moving at a slower rate than usual. “Wait…did you just say…we’ll?” Just as you spoke, Wooyoung reached around to grasp your chin and guide it to the side, allowing you to spot the fiery-headed gentleman manspreading on the VIP couch across from you, his heated gaze alone making you throb. “Isn’t…that the guy who owns this place?”

“Mm, he owns a lot of things. You see, darling, even though I want you all to myself–” Wooyoung squeezed his hands around your barely clothed tits through your dress, making you moan. “San doesn’t like it when I don’t share with him.” His hands slowly moved down your front to your clothed cunt, feeling your wetness coat his fingers when he rubbed them against your clothed slit. All you could focus on was the way San shifted around on the couch, his hands gripping his thighs like his body was aching to be free from his tight ensemble, Wooyoung’s upcoming offer barely getting processed in your hazy brain. “Do you wanna meet him?”

One single nod was all it took for Wooyoung to take your hand with a knowing smile on his pretty face, like he could already tell what was about to go down that night, before guiding you past the crowd, the bouncers, and directly up to San, who was eagerly waiting your arrival.

As soon as you stepped foot into the exclusive lounge, the visual of the older man had your already weak knees ready to buckle underneath you now that you could see him up close. He was dressed head to toe in sleek, expensive leather. The top only had two buttons to support his front, his broad chest on full display for you to drool over. Your eyes eventually followed upwards until you got to his obscenely handsome face, his sharp, feline-like features bathed in the club’s sinful red lighting. Then, of course, the nail in the coffin was the dimpled smile he offered you, one that was so inviting that you didn’t realize you were being drawn to him like a moth to a burning flame.

“That’s right, go ahead and get nice and comfortable on my lap, sweetheart,” his words, sweet like honey, melted off his tongue in a low drawl, his limbs wrapping around you as soon as you sat down on his lap, resting one hand comfortably on your thigh, his other reaching up to play with your hair. “What brought you here tonight? To my pretty boy? To me?”

You gently hooked an arm around his neck to keep yourself upright, gazing at Wooyoung who sat beside you both on the couch, his fingers rubbing gentle circles around one of your ankles, before turning your head to look at the older man, trying to keep bad memories from flooding your brain.

San gently twirled your hair around his finger, urging in a deep, comforting voice, “Let it out. Don’t be afraid, princess.”

Your brain offered you a pleasant fuzziness instead. “I…had a bad breakup…I just really wanted to come here, get my back blown out, and forget about it all, you know?”

Wooyoung stifled a cackle, while San’s lower lip jutted out in a pout, his hand splaying across your upper thigh, slowly rubbing it up and down. “Poor angel. I bet he never made you feel needed, huh?” You mirrored his pout, shaking your head. “I can make you feel needed, baby. Do you want that?” A nod this time, your breath caught in your throat. San leaned in, pressing his lips to your warm cheek, murmuring, “Then, let Daddy take care of you, alright?”

And just like that, there were no rules anymore. No regulations. No holding back. Just you, two strangers, and a club full of people that couldn’t care less about what you were doing. San still held you in his lap, your trembling legs just barely spread open enough to allow his hand in between them, rubbing his thick digits against your cunt through your soaked panties, while Wooyoung had a front row seat. “Is it good for you, baby? Or do you want more?”

“More,” you exhaled, about to say something when San squeezed your clit roughly, making you gasp.

“More, what, princess?” San leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, whispering against them, “What’s my name?”

“More, Daddy,” you corrected yourself, just as San’s ringed fingers moved past your panties and slipped right inside you up to the knuckle, filling you up just enough to make your brain go fuzzy.

Wooyoung moaned just when you did, biting his lip at the sight of San’s veins popping out when he began to pump his fingers in and out of your squelching hole. “Fuck, that’s so hot…she’s so wet, Daddy…”

“She is, isn’t she?” San agreed, curling his fingers inside you until he hit the spot that made you drool, his lips suddenly latching onto your neck to leave his mark behind on your skin so you could remember exactly what you did when you woke up the next morning. “Look at you, taking my fingers in your tight little cunt like this. Such a good girl.”

“Uh-huh,” you could barely verbalize, whining at his words, clenching around his digits. You could barely focus on anything else except for the older man’s thick fingers stretching you out, his rings offering you a pleasure you didn’t realize you needed in your life, though Wooyoung’s warm hands on your thighs and gentle smile kept you from getting too lost in the moment.

However, San was in the same boat as you, his trapped, throbbing cock already leaking so much pre-cum that he was about to lose it, encouraging him to suggest, “Mm, but you need Daddy’s cock, don’t you?” He watched you give him a weak nod, knowing you were on the edge of orgasming from the way your body began to lock up. “I should just fuck you dumb right here for everyone to see. Have you make a big mess on this couch. It’s my club, after all. Why shouldn’t I do what I want?” He sped up the pace, practically pounding his fingers into your cunt, your arousal leaking down your shaking thighs, continuing to dispel filthy words for only you and his boytoy to hear. “Fuck, they’ll enjoy seeing a pretty thing like you fall apart on my lap, won’t they? See this cunt of yours stretch around my cock and take my cum inside. Mmm. See the way I make you mine.”

Everything was too much. The crowded room. The possibility of someone’s eyes on you. San’s filthy words. His fingers jammed inside your soaked cunt. Wooyoung’s unwavering gaze, his hands squeezing into your thighs. The unrelenting pleasure coursing through your body. You ended up cumming so hard, you saw stars, not even realizing San was silencing your pleasured cries until you felt his lips on yours and his tongue push into your open mouth. Just as San pulled away, Wooyoung took his place, tasting the alcohol on your tongue, before gently tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.

“Should we go to your office now, Sannie?” Wooyoung asked the older man, his hooded eyes flitting between San’s and yours, neither of you even having to speak another word before you all got up from the couch.

-

“Whoa,” you murmured to yourself, looking around the expansive room, the interior matching the rest of the sleek club. Aside from the small computer desk setup in the corner, there was a large bed with satin sheets that took up a good portion of the room, but most of your attention was on the mirrors that were perfectly positioned on either side of the bed, as well as the ceiling. “Mirrors?”

“Sannie likes to watch himself,” Wooyoung giggled, rubbing the small of your back in comforting circles, leading you to the bed alongside San who sat down on the edge of it, looking up to you and Wooyoung who stood behind you, running his hands along your sides up to your shoulders, before taking hold of the zipper of your dress.

“I like to watch pretty angels like you come undone too. Watch the lust take over you until you’re covered in sweat and cum,” San mused, gazing into your eyes until Wooyoung slowly pulled the straps of your dress down, the both of them watching it fall from your body. Groaning, San began to mirror Wooyoung’s actions, unbuttoning his blazer, then pulling it off and revealing an expanse of smooth tan skin, the muscles in his arms flexing as he began to unbuckle his pants. Once San’s pants hit the floor and his thick, veiny cock sprung up, you found yourself sinking down to your knees, your mouth watering at the sight of pre-cum dribbling down the man’s reddened cockhead. “What do you want, princess? Tell me.”

“Your cock,” you requested immediately, settling your hands on his strong thighs. “In my mouth, please.”

“Ahh…?” San tilted his head to the side, his eyebrows raising up slightly.

“Daddy,” you replied swiftly, leaning in to rub your cheek against his hot, throbbing length, pouting, licking at the pre-cum that dripped onto your face. “Please.”

“Good girl. So dirty for me. Aren’t I a lucky man?” San let out a satisfied sigh, reaching down to wrap a good amount of your hair around his fist, holding it in a ponytail so that he could see your face, before sliding his cock into the hot, slick haven that was your mouth and throat. “That’s it, suck it nice and hard, princess. Show me how much you like having Daddy’s cock in your mouth.”

You reciprocated, throating his cock the best you could, choking and gagging occasionally, digging your fingers into his thighs.

“Mmm, there you go. You’re so good for me, angel. Don’t stop, okay?” San praised, closing his eyes, gripping your hair, slowly thrusting himself into your open mouth, delighted by the lewd sounds of your moans and the squelching sounds coming from your throat. Once he felt Wooyoung’s fingers slide into his hair and grip it, San looked up, watching Wooyoung lift one leg up onto the edge of the bed, the younger man’s eyes full of hunger.

Finally getting your throat to relax completely, you simply continued to take San’s cock in your throat, having to blink the remaining tears away to see San clearly — though nothing could prepare you for the sight of Wooyoung guiding San’s head downwards, his twitching cock disappearing inside San’s willing mouth.

“Fuck, it feels so hot,” Wooyoung panted, a bit of drool leaving his plump lips, thrusting deeper until he entered San’s throat, the older man’s groans vibrating onto Wooyoung’s balls each time they touched his chin. “Daddy acts so big and bad all the time, but he just loves getting cock rammed down his throat, huh?”

Wooyoung knew him so well. That’s why he was his favorite, well, aside from the angel that was taking him to heaven with only her mouth. San reached up with his free hand to massage Wooyoung’s balls, guiding his mouth along the younger man’s cock himself, sucking him off like he was made for it, like he always did.

Letting go of San’s hair to touch his own body, shuddering at all the pleasure at his disposal, Wooyoung gazed down at you, watching you obediently take San’s cock, the man’s hand still wrapped up in your hair and tugging at it. “Look at you go. You look so pretty when your mouth’s stuffed with cock, angel. You’re gonna make my Daddy cum so hard for you, huh?”

Squeezing your thighs together around your hand that was playing with your dripping cunt, you nodded your head, swearing you were about to cum just from what was happening around you, knowing San was in a similar place from the way he started to involuntarily buck his hips up into your mouth.

“Don’t swallow and save some for me, baby, okay? Don’t be stingy,” Wooyoung reminded you in a strained, breathy voice, almost falling over from the way San gripped one side of his hips, a string of obscenities falling from his lips when the man forcefully drove his throbbing cock into his hot throat, about to see god herself when San’s throat began constricting around his length like a pussy would. “Fuck, gonna cum, Sannie.”

San pulled back, a few thick strings of saliva connecting his swollen lips to Wooyoung’s dripping tip, his hand closing around the base to jerk him off. “Cum on Sannie’s face, will you? Make a big fucking mess for me.”

Wooyoung whined and panted, San’s slick hand moving quickly along his length, trying not to choke on his spit and moans, barely able to stay upright, but thankfully San had a good grip on his hips.

San looked down at you, licking the saliva from his lips, pulling out just enough so that his thick cockhead rested on your tongue. “Are you going to take this load? Hmm? Want it?”

“Yes, fuck, Daddy, please give it to me,” you begged, panting heavily, your fingers about to slip out of you from how fast you were moving them.

“Oh god, here it comes, angel,” San groaned out, squeezing around the base of Wooyoung’s cock, making him let out a broken, high-pitched whine.

Your combined pleasure came rocketing up to an intense peak, sending the three of you into a mindnumbing state of ecstasy. Thick, hot spurts of liquid came raining down on San’s face, just as his load shot out onto your tongue and down your throat, your own release soaking into the velvet carpet underneath you.

Fading out of reality during the majority of your high, your ears ringing, it took you a minute to realize that someone’s mouth was on yours, their fingers cupping your face. Opening your glossy eyes, you watched in a daze as Wooyoung took his sweet time slurping San’s cum off of your tongue.

San gripped Wooyoung’s hair and brought his head back, parting his lips and allowing Wooyoung to shovel his own cum into his mouth, swallowing it down with a low, pleased groan.

Pleased with the sin that was taking place in front of you, you took it upon yourself to drag your tongue across San’s chiseled jaw to his cheek, collecting some of Wooyoung’s release into your mouth, only to press your lips to his, letting him taste himself. Wooyoung moaned into your mouth, deepening the kiss, until San pulled you away from each other.

“Haven’t had enough, you two?” San chuckled, running a hand through his sweaty hair.

“No~ Not after that,” you giggled, rubbing your cheek against San’s palm when he caressed it.

Wooyoung wrapped his arms around you, looking at San with a sweet smile, his long eyelashes fluttering. “Can we keep her, Daddy? I promise I’ll take good care of her.”

Little wrinkles formed near San’s eyes once he smiled at you. “I suppose so.”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2023.

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Play you? Play me?

charles leclerc x reader

my masterlist

summary in which your “music teacher” finally plays you instead of playing the piano (idk it sounds very weird when I wrote it down) 

warnings smut, french petname (Mon bébé = My baby), cockwarming, squirting, sex on a piano,... 

author note as much as I would've wanted to write for my little Vettel series (believe me, I did work on it, and Chapter 2 it’s almost done, I just need to figure some teeny, tiny details more) BUT I kinda have charles obsession NOW??? like if people requested imagines for him, I'D WRITE IT… 

edit #1 THE NEW CHAPTER OF LITTLE VETTEL IS OUT

You loved Charles’s fingers. You loved watching them dance on the keys of the Steinways & Sons piano that he so loved to play; loved watching the way they stretched to reach octaves and certain notes; also the same fingers that were holding on to the steering wheel so tight each time he was in a race; and the same of those holding your hands almost everyday. You loved the glint of his rings as his hands glided across the notes, playing a song that had you almost completely at peace if not for his cock stretching you open.

It all started innocently when he said that he wanted to teach you some basics about piano, and so you were sitting in his lap while his hands guide you through each keys. And just like that in a heated moment, you now were straddling Charles, legs dangling over the back of the piano stool, head tucked against his chest. One ear listened to the steady beat of his heart as the other listened to the steady melody created by his skilled fingers. 

With every tap of his shoes on the pedals, his cock would be driven further into you before falling back to its original place, the ridge of the leaking head catching at just the spot that had you moaning in time with the extended notes.

Your fingers traced shapes in his back, random shapes and words that the song he wrote inspired, your mouth occasionally dropping kisses on his neck and chest, wherever you could reach really.

You brought your legs up, locking your ankles around his back when you wanted more. The new position drove him further into your tight heat but even as you moaned and clenched tightly around him, his fingers never lost their rhythm; the notes still falling perfectly in time with the sheet music in front of him, feet still pressing the pedals at the correct timing.

If it wasn’t for the tiny crease in between his eyes, you wouldn’t have even thought he was affected at all. But you supposed, no matter how lost he was in his playing, it wasn’t as if he could ignore your slick running down your legs and onto the towel below (to protect his expensive leather seats), or the way you folds would flutter every time he hit a particular string of notes.

But for now you were content.

Content to be filled wholly by him.

Every inch of your skin was covered by his own, his heartbeat loud and clear in your ears; complementing his music.

His cock filled you to the brim, keeping you warm and filled in a way you knew you could never explain.

He brought you all the comfort you would ever need; filling you up in all the empty places you used to have; making the absence of him an absence of yourself.

You stayed curled around him as he lost himself in his music and in you; content to let him play until his heart was full before laying you across the expensive instrument and fucking you the way he knew best. 

As the song comes to an end, your body and his became increasingly intertwined. Your breath hitched as he now slowly moves inside you, your hands gripping tighter onto his broad back and shoulders as both bodies stay connected. The intensity of each movements, all made you feel so alive.

The pleasure was almost unbearable, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he reached his peak, his fingers now digging into your skin. "Fuck, you're so fucking tight," he groaned, his words barely audible as he continued to move inside you, prolonging your pleasure.

Your nails dug into his back as you reached your own climax, the intensity of it all almost too much to handle. He smirked as he felt you tighten around him, your moans growing louder. "That's it, let go for me, Mon bébé" he whispered in your ear, his voice dripping with desire. You shuddered as he continued to move inside you, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure from your body. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as you rode out the waves of your orgasm. 

He let out a low growl as he finally released himself inside you, his hips still moving against yours as he rode out his own climax. He collapsed onto you, his body slick with sweat and his breath warm against your neck. "Fuck, that was amazing," he murmured, nuzzling your neck as he caught his breath. "You're incredible." You smiled, your fingers tracing patterns on his back as you both enjoyed the afterglow of your intense lovemaking. "I don't want to move," you whispered, feeling completely content in his arms.  

After some time, he looked at you with a grin. "Feeling a bit adventurous?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "We could try out that new position I've been wanting to try." He picked you up effortlessly and placed you on top of the piano, his lips never leaving yours. He could hear the soft keys being pressed under your body, but it only added to the intensity and the thrill of the situation. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he explored your mouth with his. He leaned back slightly, breaking the kiss for a moment to look at you with a lustful gaze. His hands went down to your waist, tracing the curves and dips, driving you crazy with desire. His thumb teased the skin under your silk skirt, making you moan softly. "I want you, again”  he whispered hoarsely, his voice thick with desire. "Right here, right now." His lips found yours again, his tongue exploring deeper as your bodies pressed closer together on the piano. His hands went to the buttons of your shirt, slowly undoing each one while his lips were back on yours, hungrily tasting and nibbling at your lips. His fingers slid under your bra, teasing your breast, making your back arch with pleasure. His lips trailed fire down your body, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. "Now, it's my turn to taste you, Mon bébé" he said, his voice full of desire as he helped you spread your legs. He dipped his head low, his breath hot against your skin as his mouth closed over your core. His tongue explored every inch of you, lapping at your folds and teasing your clit. He sucked and flicked at it, sending waves of pleasure through your body. He lifted his head, his lips wet with your juices. "You taste so fucking good," he growled before plunging his tongue back inside of you, his fingers replacing his tongue on your clit. He worked them in unison, driving you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

"Come for me, Mon bébé" he commanded, his voice rough and needy. He sucked hard on your clit as his fingers thrust deep inside of you, taking you over the edge. You screamed his name as waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body trembling and shaking.

Still in a daze from your intense orgasm, he stood and quickly removed his own clothes. His large, hard cock sprung free, the head already wet with his desire for you. He positioned himself between your legs, rubbing his cock against your slick entrance. "Are you ready for me?" Without waiting for your response, he thrust deep inside of you. It was a tight fit, the walls of your pussy stretching to accommodate him. He groaned, his head falling back as he began to move in and out of you with long, slow strokes. "Fuck…” 

His hands gripped your hips as he picked up the pace, driving into you harder and faster. You could feel his cock swelling inside of you, the pleasure building deep within your core. Your legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper as you met his thrusts.

He bent his head, taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking hard, his fingers pinching and rolling the other. His hips slapped against yours, the sound filling the room, altogether with the sound of the piano. You could tell he was close by the way he began to pant and moan.  "Come for me," he growled, his teeth scraping against your sensitive nipple. His thrusts became erratic, his cock twitching inside of you. That was all it took to set you off, your orgasm crashing through you in waves of pleasure.

He groaned loudly as you tightened around him, his thrusts becoming desperate as he felt his own release racing through him. "Fuck, yes!" He shouted, slamming into you one last time before filling you with his hot cum. He pushed harder and faster, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing it in circles. He grinned down at you, his cock still hard and ready for more. "Again," he commanded, his voice low and commanding. It wasn't long before you screamed his name, your entire body shuddering as you squirted all over him.

He slowed down as he felt your orgasm subsiding, his lips finding yours in a tender, passionate kiss. "I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did," he whispered, pulling you into his arms.

[sundew199]

Thinking about spitting in Zoro's mouth as you ride him, holding his mouth open and caressing the corners of his mouth as you hum low and steady watching the way his eyelid droop as his jaw slacks in your palm. The way he so complicit for you and how eager he is to please, sends wave after of wave of lust down to your cunt squeezing him.

"So nasty." from above as you smear the saliva on the flat of his tongue, surging with even more arousal as his mouth creases as he tries to smile against the hand squeezing his cheeks, forcing his mouth open.

"Mmhm" Coming as his only response, the ease of giving you a proper response lost as your nails sink into his skin further. You rise to sink back down all the way, make sure he's brushing against the deepest part of you, teasing the idea of fucking far enough into you to breach past your cervix.

His labored breathing sounding so rough in his throat, like nails on a chalkboard with the way you're basically cockwarming him instead of riding, forcing him to do your biding. No one would guess the renowned swordsman had a thing for being pinned and dominated, but it was you and something about the way you threw your weight around had him clawing for more.

Again, you let another glop of spit land on his tongue, surprising him with a kiss as you bounced up and down, his rough hand immediately gripping your ass and helping you move. Moans were exchanged between the two of you, lost in the sloppy caverns of your mouths, wet and needy.

"Cum for me?" Like he weren't allowed to ask such a thing from you, but nonetheless making your body tense from the rasp and desperation mingled into his words.

"of course." Pressing your mouth harder into his, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him rut up into you like an animal in heat. His thighs slapping against your skin, the corded muscle running prominant down the entirety of the limb tensing with the promise of release. Zoro couldn't help but sit up more, bend his legs at the knees and slap both hands to your waist, fucking you mad.

"C'mon, I'm close baby, don't hold out on me." Begging into your lips but holding the stern vice captain tone that made your pussy flutter and clench. You whimpered into his mouth, digging your hands into his wavy green hair and sighing as you came all over his cock.

Zoro pulled you away, needing to see the fucked out expression on your face to send his load deep into you. And it worked every time, panting with his typical slack jaw, watching the space between where your bodies met as you bounced on his lap.

He laughed when you cupped your hand on one side of his jaw, using the opportunity to spit directly into his mouth one last time, breaking the final straw and his hips suddenly stilling inside you, warmth pooling inside your cunt, overflowing fast. Zoro fell back onto the bed, content with a smile and spit glistening bottom lip.

"One more round? End the night with three instead of two." Purring into his neck, barely moving your hips up to convince him.

"Three is my lucky number." Smacking a palm across your ass and rolling over with you, bringing his hand to your cheeks to squeeze your mouth open, giving you the same look you had given him earlier.

a/n: not kinktober related, just watched too many zoro clips and started to think a bit too much, lmao idk, enjoy the blurb ig :)

[mwahsturns]

📸 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐌 𝐈𝐓 - MATT STURNⵊOLO

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

Contains: Smut, swearing, A lot of praise, teasing/flirting, pet names (baby, good girl), fingering, Sextape, unprotected sex, Creampie, p in v, overstimulation, spanking, aftercare, fluff. - Semi-proof read! I think that’s all?

Synopsis: you and Matt have been dating for 3 years now and your sex life isn’t vanilla pre say but it isn’t crazy. Matt and his brothers are about to go on tour and unfortunately Matt isn’t allowed to take you this time, So Matt wants something to remember you by.

Word Count: idk?

Author’s notes: a lot of you guys wanted this one so I hope you enjoy it!!

* *:･ﾟ✧💒*:･ﾟ✧

Me and Matt had finally a day to ourselves, Chris and Nick were sleeping over at a friends house and Matt texted me telling to come over. Me and Matt have been dating for around 3 years now and we never get to have any alone time, he’s going on tour tomorrow and I wanna be able to spend time with him before he goes.

We’re in Matt’s bedroom music softly fulls the room as the passionate make out session takes place. Earned it by the weekend softly plays in the background as Matt pulls away from the kiss, ‘you know how I leave tomorrow right..” he plays with the bottom of my shirt. ‘Yea why?’ My hands creasing his chest as i straddled his lap, ‘what if we tried something different tonight?’ He sounds nervous but Matt never wants to try something new so I’m kinda excited.

‘Of course what is it?’ ‘What if we made a sex tape so while I’m gone we can both have it since we won’t be together..” honestly the thought of him fucking me dumb being on tape makes me fucking soaked. ‘Of course baby I’d love to be able to watch how good you fuck Me’ I get off of him sitting on the bed, I watch as Matt gets up and walks over to his computer picking up the camera he and his brothers use to film, he starts recording smiling as he walks to the edge of the bed.

He grabs my legs pulling me to the edge of the bed the camera basically in my face. As he faces the camera towards me he bites his lip, ‘look at my pretty girl..’ I blush and immediately cover my face with my hands. ‘Matt.. stopp’ he chuckles and zooms the camera in my face and zooms back out, ‘uncover your face’ I uncovered my face smiling as he lifts my chin up. ‘There’s my precious baby’ he puts the camera down back on the desk facing it towards the bed, he picks me up swiftly as he lays me down on the bed hovering over me moving my hair out of my face.

‘God you’re so beautiful my love..’ he says pulling down my Jean shorts showing my blue thong, ‘mmh you wore these for me didn’t you’ he smiles rubbing my legs ‘you like em?’ I tease ‘like is an understatement beautiful.. strip for me’ i sit up and pull off my (his) shirt showing my blue lace bra. I take off my bra and underwear leaving my self bare in front of him and the camera. Matt smirks and grabs the camera showing my bare body, ‘fuck look how beautiful..’ he spreads my legs still holding the camera he shows my soaked pussy.

‘Who got you this wet huh? Tell the camera’ he says showing the camera him running his hand over my vagina. ‘You did..’ I say softly, he gives me that irresistible smirk before slowly moving his fingers towards my soaked pussy and start to rub me in a circular motion. I gasp as he slides a finger into me ‘oh fuck Matt just like that’ Matt smirked again as he said ‘hmm you’re already wet for me mama, good girl’, he says as he takes of his shirt and his pants being low reveals his slurry waist even more. As he smiles and he slides his middle and ring finger right into me causing me to moan and gasp.

‘oh baby..’ he smiles at me as he knows he’s making me feel good ‘ am I making you feel good?’ I moan again as I say ‘y-yes’ as he starts to pump his fingers faster and faster pushing me to my climax ‘Holy fuck Matthew’ he smirks ‘are you gonna cum mama?’ he asked his voice turning me on. As he continued to do his amazing finger work I start to moan very loudly and say ‘oh fuck M-matt ughh’ as my legs starts to shake only little as I release. Matt pumps and shakes his hands up and down making me squeal and moan even louder. ‘Fuck..good girl making such a mess for me’ he smiles kissing my stomach softly as I calm down for the intense pleasure.

‘I’m going to fuck you so good, you won't even remember your own name.’ He says pulling down his sweatpants and boxers his cock springing out hitting his lower stomach. ‘Knees now’ he climbed on the bed and I got on my knees in front of him, as I’m looking up at him he shows the camera me on my knees ‘you look so pretty like this.’ I smile as I jerk him just a little bit before taking him into my mouth full throating him my lip almost touching his sack as I continued. He lets out a groan. The warmth of my mouth causes him to flinch as i continue to suck Matt, I put my hands onto his thighs and pull off putting my mouth on his tip swirling my tongue around his tip before I take all of him back into my mouth, ‘fuck princess your so good to me’ Matt says throwing his head back with a little eye roll.

‘god your such a slut’ he says causing me to moan against him, he grabs my hair into a makeshift ponytail pushing my head farther down. ‘Good fucking girl .. take that dick baby’ I moan pushing my head farther down, my eyes water as I felt the tip hit the back of my throat gagging as I tried to take more.

‘fuck yea choke on my cock.. shit’ Matt starts twitching in my mouth indicating he’s getting closer and I can tell by the tone of his voice and then he says ‘oh fuck.. I’m about to cum’ I then take my mouth off start to jerk his cock ‘fucking hell..’ I take it back into my mouth to swallow the load. ‘Oh shit ..’ Matt grins, his cheeks flushed with pleasure as he watches you swallow his cum and then show off your empty mouth. ‘Damn, you're fucking hot... I could watch that all day.’ He pulls me in for a deep kiss, tasting himself on my lips.

‘Lay down princess..’ I got back on the bed laying down adjusting the pillows, ‘you ready my love?’ I nod feeling him slide in me. ‘Oh my goodness fuck..’ his hips thrusting against yours with more urgency. He kisses down your neck and trails his lips lower, sucking and nipping at your sensitive skin. ‘I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll see stars, baby’ I moan grabbing the sheets.

‘Hader Matt please..’ this encourages Matt as he hits a new spot in you that makes you instantly scream. ‘Fucking shit your so tight babe’ he unexpectedly pulled out flipping me over, my face smashed into the pillow as he slams back into me. ‘Ughh fuck Matt’ I moaned into the pillow, ‘I’m going to fucking breed you baby..’ he pulls my hair making my back arch as he kisses my shoulder playing with my breasts as the thrusts into me. He roughly smacks my ass making me moan softly ‘again..’ he smirked smacking my ass again ‘such a slut’

‘Matt ima cum..’ he ignores my words letting go of my hair as I fall back into the bed, he goes harder as I let out a scream releasing all over him. That doesn’t stop him though he continues thrusting into me at a very fast pace. ‘Matt please I can’t take it’ I screamed out as I came for second time. He felt my walls tighten around him as I came for the second time. He let out a primal growl of satisfaction and continued his brutal thrusts. With one final push, he released himself inside me, filling me up completely as they both cried out in ecstasy.

I was screaming at this point and his back was all ruined due to my nails he pulled out picking up the camera showing my pussy dripping with our cum mixed together. ‘Such a perfect pussy..’ he takes his fingers and shoved it back into me and finally turning off the camera. He collapsed onto the bed next to Me, both of us panting heavily as our orgasms subsided. He turned to look at me, admiring the sight of his beautiful girlfriend ‘ima clean you up okay?’ I was too tired to speak as Matt comes back with a damp rag cleaning us both off climbing back into bed cuddling me softly.

‘I should let you film it more often huh?’ He chuckles ‘oh definitely’ he says as we drift off to sleep…

Author’s notes: I hope this was good if I missed any errors don’t be afraid to let me know I love y’all so much and hope you have a good day

Taglist: @mattyb4dominicans @sturniololvrrr @norr1ssturni0lo @thc-bolter @va1ent1naa @lanas-doll @sturniolohoe @iluvmattsbeard @m9ttsverse

[ickie]

♡ missed signals \ cl16.

pairing: charles leclerc x reader summary: best friends who have feelings for each other !! scary !! \ word count: 1.1k warnings: there's like 2 sentences of steam but they literally just make out idk ! if u don't like cheesy men or reader being oblivious ... this will not be 4 u !notes: i wrote this because i cannot sleep so if it makes no sense... blame the lack of sleep not me ! feel free to leave any feedback here !

your fingernails dug into the plam of your hand, eyebrows creasing together as you stared at your best friend, the person that you would sacrifice anything for... hell, the person that you would go to jail for. you coud pinpoint the exact day things began to change, and that was the day that you friendship with charles had begun to turn into something far from platonic.

it was barley a year ago, you and charles had decided to go to a party, and maybe it was a bad idea when charles had been insisting that he needed the time to recouperate... but what better way to recouperate than with some alcohol and some quality time with friends and strangers alike?

♡♡♡

your hands had begun to get cold from the condensation that was forming on the outside of your glass, a pout taking over your glossed lips. "charlie," you drew out the last syllable, standing on your tiptoes so that he could maybe hear you over the music. "i'm bored." you hummed, head turning to the side as you stared him down.

"and what am i supposed to do about that, mon loulou?" he questioned back, raising an amused eyebrow at you as your shoulders shrugged at the taller male. "can we dance, do something please! i'm dying over here!" your dramatics didn't go unnoticed, charles letting out a laugh at your actions.

his hand grabbed yours, pulling you towards the crowded dance floor. your hips swayed easily to the music, the feeling of charles behind you wasn't foreign. it wasn't weird for best friends to be grinding on each other in the middle of a dance floor, right? because for you and charles, it definitely wasn't. the feeling of his hands on your waist caused you to throw your head back, resting it on his shoulder as the two of you danced until your boredom was somewhat satiated.

shortly after, though, you began to feel overheated - the alcohol you had consumed too quickly hitting you like a ton of bricks. "charlie," his nickname came out like a whimper, your cheeks flushing. "i'm hot, can we go outside, please?" you asked the question as you were already moving away from him, eyeing the door that led to a balcony.

you let out a relieved sigh as the cooler air hit your sweaty skin, hands coming up to run through your hair. "i dunno what happened," you laughed, leaning against the railing. "i was fine and then i got hot, and not in a good way..." you joked as charles slotted himself next to you, your head resting on his shoulders. your eyes closed, listening to him speak as you hummed out responses, only half way listening.

one thing led to another, and you found your lips on charles', you hands in his hair and his hands placed firmly on your hips, not letting you move away - not like you wanted to. the feeling of his lips against yours was something you hadn't really thought of before, but... they were something unlike any one else you had ever kissed. they were soft, gentle... and all you knew in that moment was that you wanted to keep kissing the boy you had considered your best friend.

charles pulled away though, a bit too soon for your liking as you let out a whine of protest. "i," he bit his lip, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes. you tried to decipher what emotion he was feeling, but his face was eerily empty. "we should go back inside." he stepped away from you, shoving his hands into his pockets. you stayed quiet, eyes finding the floor as you nodded your head. what the fuck just happened?

as soon as you got inside, you ordered yourself an uber, saying your goodbyes to your (very tipsy) friends who had tried to get you to stay longer, but you made up something about not feeling good, not like it was a lie, though. the feeling of regret, the feeling of unwantedness... it had you feeling sick to your stomach.

♡♡♡

"you wanted me to take that as a sign you had feeling for me?" the quesiton came out before you could stop it, a hand slapping over your mouth as you laughed. "you ran away from me, charles!"

"i was... embarassed, okay?" one of his hands came up and scratched the back of his neck. "i didn't want my first time kissing you to be on the balcony at some club, mon ange. it should've been something more important than that. but you really didn't think anything was different after vegas?"

♡♡♡

what happens in vegas, stays in vegas? or at least that's what they said... and that's what you told yourself as you led charles to your hotel room feeling the urge to congratulate him for making the podium.

his lips were on your neck as soon as the door was shut, your back snugly pushed against the wall. a whimper passed through your lips as his teeth grazed a sensitive spot, your hands pulling at whatever they could find purchase on.

"charlie, i need more..."

"oh, mon ange, you're going to get plenty."

♡♡♡

thinking back on the memory of vegas, you felt heat creep up into your chest and your cheeks. did you really miss these signs of charles trying to make moves on you..? there's no way, right? "what happens in vegas stays in vegas!" you counter, holding your hands up in defense.

"mon ange." he deadpans, a look of are you dumb? crossing his features.

"okay, okay... maybe i should've looked more into it but you know how i am!" you step closer to him, a hand reaching out to graze at his forearm. "but, charlie... if you really wanted to be with me you should've just told me..." you let out a giggle, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "or, i dunno, asked me on a date? or just plain asked me out?" there's a teasing edge to your tone, a smile pulling at your lips.

"i'm not doing that," he scoffs, his hands pulling at your waist to pull you close to him. "you're mine, mon ange... you might not have realized it, but, it's gonna be me and you for however long your willing to deal with me." he leans down to kiss you, but you reach a hand up to stop him.

"that was the cheesiest shit i've ever heard, charles." you make a mock disgusted face before dropping your hand. "but, you can kiss me now, if you'd like.."

[moonstruckme]

hi :3

everytime i send you a request my personality’s different HAHA

okay, sooo, i was thinking (rare occasion) about your casual dominance story (LOVE btw)

so, how about that EXCEPT reader is the casually dominant one >:)

feel free to ignore this, ik this isnt like what u normally do

love ya MWA

Okay so I swear I tried to do dominant reader but it just turned into this, idk how it happened. She’s not super dominant but she’s not submissive and she definitely gets her way, so I hope you like it <3

cw: alcohol, suggestive content + a bit of light degradation, mdni please

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 601 words

You find the marauders in the living room. At the center of the party, as usual. 

“Hey, gorgeous.” Sirius’ eyes find you instantly. He grins. Remus follows his gaze, and immediately starts talking to James about something else. “I was just thinking about you.” 

“You’re always thinking about me,” you say, bypassing the space he makes for you on the couch to sit in his lap. 

He scoffs, settling his hand on your thigh. You know he can smell your conditioner. You hope he dreams about it. “Sweetheart,” he replies, breath warm on the shell of your ear, “you’re projecting.” 

You let your head fall back on his shoulder, batting your eyelashes up on him. “That’s a five dollar word there, baby. You taking lessons from Remus?” 

Sirius makes a sound like he’s choked on a laugh. He covers it up by taking a sip of his drink. His cropped shirt lifts when he raises his cup, and you swiftly turn around on his lap, covering the slice of abdomen from view. 

He raises an eyebrow at you. He knows what you’re doing, but he hardly minds. You’re conveniently placed to feel something stiff and familiar poking at your heat through his pants. 

You grin and shift a little, delighting when his cheeks pinken. 

Black fingernails dig into your thigh in an attempt to still you. 

“Doll,” Sirius says warningly. 

You ignore him, plucking the cup from his hand and swirling it, sniffing at the liquid inside. Sirius holds your stare as you take a sip. 

“How many of these have you had?” you ask. 

“That there’s my second.” 

You hum, taking another sip. Strong, but not bad. 

“I’m gonna finish this one off,” you tell him. “I think you’re good for tonight.” 

He raises an eyebrow at you. “And why’s that?” 

You lean in close, wrapping one hand around the side of his neck and murmuring against the shell of his ear, “Because it’s no fun fucking you if you’re already stupid when we start.” You back up an inch, looking into eyes now eclipsed by pupil. “Okay, honey?” 

Sirius swallows. You feel the movement of his throat under your hand and stroke the side of his jaw with your thumb. Roll your hips again, just because you can. 

He takes in a sharp breath, hands clamping down on your hips to try and keep you in place. 

“Sirius, mate,” James says from the other side of the couch, “are you alright?” His brow is creased in concern, but you can see the tensed muscles around his mouth from the effort it takes to keep from smiling. Beside him, Remus is doing a much better job at exercising his poker face. “You look like your drink’s gone down the wrong pipe or something.” 

Sirius might normally see the knowing in his friend’s look, too, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. “I’m fine,” he says, voice impressively blase for someone who seems like he could cum in his pants with a couple of strategic movements on your part. “Just thinking it’s time me and my bird get out of here.” 

“What?” You make a show of leaning away from him, and the shift in your weight has Sirius gripping desperately at your hips. “Babe, it’s so early. We’ve only just got here. Let’s give it an hour at least, yeah?” 

“Really?” Sirius asks quietly, urgently. 

You take a slow sip of his drink, letting him see the way your throat bobs when you swallow. 

“Yeah,” you exhale as you finish. “Why, are you in some kind of hurry?”

[theemporium]

!! could you please write something where james is arguing with someone abt something or he’s just big mad but all reader can focus on is how FINE he looks?? like the tensed jawline? the curvature of his pecs from his heavy breathing?? running his hand through his hair from frustration and his bicep bulges LMAO idk but i’m just down bad rn

no because this reminds me of hockey boys and how hot they look when they get into fights and it just makes me😵‍💫anyways thank you for requesting! i’m a whore for james potter!!🖤

.

The sight shouldn’t have turned you on as much as it did.

It was nearing ten when you stumbled out of the pub, your arms wound around one of James’ as you used him as your personal crutch. The alcohol flowing through you numbed the pain of your heels but that didn’t make it any easier to walk in them. 

But you didn’t care. You were happy and buzzed and your big, handsome boyfriend was all but prepared to carry you to the club you were meeting the rest of the group at for a fun night out. 

Until someone all but shoved past you, their shoulder knocking against yours and making you stumble, though James’ quick reflexes saved you from busting your ass on the cobblestone floor. However, you laughed it off, not letting it ruin your mood as you held onto James and made a move to keep walking.

But James stopped you, his hands dropping to your waist to give you a soft squeeze and make sure you were okay before he turned to the man who barged past you. 

“Oi, dickhead! What the fuck was that?”

Now, somewhere in the back of your head, there was a voice telling you that you should intervene. You should pull James back and calm him down, reassure him that it was no big deal and that you were fine and it wasn’t worth the hassle. You should have stopped it before it escalated, before it broke out into something more serious and someone walking past on the street called the police.

You should have.

But you didn’t want to.

Instead, you stood there, still a little tipsy and buzzed, and you couldn’t help but admire how hot your boyfriend looked when he was angry. The muscles in his jaw that jumped and ticked every time he clenched his jaw, the way his broad shoulders tensed under his tight shirt and his biceps flexed with each clench of his fists. The angry little pout on his face and the crease between his brows that you just wanted to smooth out and kiss. 

Your boyfriend was a big guy, towering over the man with at least five or so inches in height. Add in his broad profile and the fact you knew he was fucking strong, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. 

Imagining pulling him away from the man and the busy streets and into a quiet alleyway. Imagining pulling his face down to meet yours in a messy, sloppy kiss and you begged him to take his anger out on you instead. Imagining him hoisting you up with ease and fucking you against the brick wall withhout even breaking a sweat, pounding into you as you whined and moaned his name and scratched your nails down his back. Imagining the bruises he would leave on your skin as a memory of the way he manhandled you.

You hadn’t even realised the argument had ended before James was standing in front of you, frustrated and pissed off and running a hand through his messy curls. You bit down on your lower lip, watching him as you squeezed your thighs together.

“Are you okay?” he asked, the concern in his voice making his face soften as he cupped your face, glancing over you once again.

But you shook your head.

James’ frowned, and some of that anger returned. “What? What’s wrong? What hurts? Did he hurt you? Did—”

But you shook your head again.

Confusion painted over his expression, his thumbs brushing across your cheekbones. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I need you,” you whispered, your hands resting against his stomach and you felt his abs clench beneath the fabric of his shirt. “Need you so bad, Jamie.”

His brows raised slightly at the tone of your voice, recognising it instantly and something like a smirk grew on his lips. “Yeah? My princess needs me?”

You nodded. “Please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he murmured as he leaned down, his lips brushing yours but not enough to consider it a kiss. You let out a whine and he only grinned wider in response. “Gotta be patient, baby.”

“James—” you started.

“Can’t fuck you here, princess, not when anyone can see how pretty my girl looks when she comes,” he murmured, his voice a little more stern this time. “You can wait.”

You gulped, nodding.

“Atta girl,” he grinned before wrapping his arm around you, ready to head back to your shared apartment instead of the club you were meant to meet the others at.

“What about—”

“They can enjoy a night without us,” James grunted, his eyes darkening as he took in the glazed look in your expression. “I have my princess to take care of.”

.

[astralnymphh]

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate before reading. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

jackson!ellie who makes the first move? kiss–wise. cause okay— we've got the scene from the actual game where dina locks in that first kiss, a drunken whim, and whatnot, but what about ellie doing so? allow me to conjure a picture up; that freckled, mellow–eyed portrait leveled to your face, her lips pinched to a demure crease— tense enough on the corners to hollow her dimples, the fat auburn worms above her eyes tweaking alongside a nod to your wisping words that enlighten her very eager brain right now, arms slack to wrap your waist and frisky warm upon the sacral of your spine with palms overlaid, waddling in a legato and sluggish manner to each pace of song. your lips are consistently ashift, lacing over every honeyed vowel that kept this silly little girl christened ellie— too attentive. eyes unto your lips, pupils enlarge and bedim all color to her organ–throbbing crush on you, a feeling, fennels and columbines a manifestation inside her flattered eyes watching you speak, "y'know, i just think that everybody on patrol is a dumb cunt, n' can't shoot for shit. maria needs to reassign." and, my. how words of curses and a rigid, shit–talking nature blow from your throat like a damn aria, on and on rambling, contract some balled sensation in ellie's gut to burst open a thousand angels serenading— their feathers a silken uncomfortableness in her guts. how it pushed her, made her spine shiver, made her face slowly tilt in, made her brows flinch sunken into the sea of her skin, and a little voice compelled her when you spoke, "totally should assign you and i—" mmmph. two mouths sealed as one. ellie, who was already a magnet, reached voice to voice and consumed the trails of your speech, flesh chapped yet somewhat plump and velvety of a 'sorry' she could not push into vocals rolled over the knoll of yours, pursing her top lip inside as her mouth steals your bottom one, an ample pressure on your inner–cheek that smushes her cute button nose as it pokes, and releases when she departs your consumption of that sudden kiss. her face lingers, still slanted, eyes darting across your face maddenly for any ounce of a reaction written in flesh, unsure on whether to sanction you some breathing room or to mention boldly about it— but you're too damn pretty to fleet away, so she decides to act somewhere balanced upon that spectrum gently, "did i do okay?" not 'was that okay?' nor 'fuck, m'sorry.' but those foolproof words, yet the look of a lost puppy was most pitiful on her features. you chuckle dry, and her palms flock to your waist— gripping, narrowing the answer out of you so timid, you have to chuckle the reply out as well, "more than okay," and you soften, bored of the blurry, obnoxious string lights a mere background to her big head, "very okay, williams." and shut the scene to nothing, pulling her rosy heat on your lips, once more.

sorry gays, idk what came over me. fluffy hours

(gif from nramvv on pinterest)

[themultifanshipper]

Oscar was giddy with excitement. Lando was going commando under his ugly senna inspired race suit, and he kept reajusting himself to hide the fact he was half-hard at the prospect of what was waiting for him when the day was over.

Inspired by this whole mess

Warnings: pain kink, lil bit of subspace if you squint? They're unhinged abt each other guys idk what more to say

Oscar was also hard, but he had the advantage of the waistband of his boxers to tuck himself into.

This was the deal: if Lando didn't wear underwear for media day, he would get a reward that night for being a good boy.

This was the problem: Lando was getting quite chafed because of the rough material and he was already struggling, half way through the day. So Oscar took him to his drivers room and got on his knees, lotion at the ready, and sucked him off for his troubles.

Once back out there, in front of everyone, it took Lando less than 20 minutes to get hard again. He got off on the pain and thrill of it all. The anticipation killing him, knowing his reward was worth it.

Oscar kept looking at him heatedly from wherever he was talking to sponsors, and whenever they brushed against each other it would send a chill up their spines, both of them incredibly riled up by the end of the day.

And it didn't help that Lando was technically wearing Australia's national colours.

The last hour was the worst. Lando was quietly whimpering to himself everytime he moved, and even Oscar's reassuring hand rubbing his back wasn't enough to soothe him.

Unfortunately for both of them the pain turned Lando on, and seing him in pain turned Oscar on.

They were a bit sick like that.

"Colour?" Oscar would ask.

"Green" Lando whined, every single time.

By the time they could finally leave, Lando was leaning heavily on Oscar, and he almost had to carry him to the car that would take them to Lando's.

Once inside, Oscar wasted no time stripping Lando of his suit, the cold air on the raw skin making the older man hiss and moan in relief.

Oscar carried Lando to the bed, grabbing some lube and aloe cream on the way, and set him down on the bed. He lifted Lando's legs to expose him, cheeks red and burning.

He gently rubbed the cream into Lando's flesh and the sting made the man writhe in pain, but also impossibly harder.

"Please Oscar, just fuck me, I need it"

Oscar grinned at him, he was so hard he was leaking onto Lando's thigh.

"Okay baby, I've got you now, just give me a minute to open you up"

He started out with one finger, making Lando whine, then two, while his other hand kept rubbing cream over the crease of his thighs.

Lando was so hard it hurt and he was slowly going mad as Oscar opened him up.

When he was finally ready, crying slightly from being denied so long, Oscar lined himself up and pushed in slowly, inch by inch until he was fully inside. Lando was completely out of it, whining and babbling nonsense as Oscar slowly rocked in and out of him, tears were staining Lando's cheeks which just served to drive Oscar a little bit mad. Neither of them were going to last long. So Oscar put his cream covered hand around Lando's cock, and the other around his neck, the flash of pain making Lando come instanly with a wanton moan, Oscar finishing inside him seconds later.

"Are you okay Lando?"

Lando was incapable of speech so he grabbed Oscar's hand and squeezed twice.

Oscar quickly cleaned them up, reapplied cream everywhere, Lando's cock making a valiant effort to get hard again, and settled him under the covers.

As he slid into bed and scrolled his phone for a bit. A hand came up and settled on his arm, a small "I love you, Osc" coming from the lump in the bed next to him. He squeezed the hand and replied "I love you too Lan"

[neonovember]

hiiii

could you write carmy x reader where she’s a high school friend and carmy always had a crush on her (but he thought she had a crush on mikey) ???? like maybe richie brings her up, and that she’s still in town and SINGLE and carmy gets red like a tomato and ??? richie makes her visit the beef and candy almost has a heart attack?? idk give me some in love carmen !!

pretty pleaseee and thank u

so I got this request and I immediately thought of swim by chase atlantic, and specifically the line that goes;

“I’ve been drowning for a minute, your body keeps pulling me in” 

And holy shit if that isn’t Carmen in his denial-in-love with a long time friend era, I don't know what is. Carmen tries too hard to forget you, but you've marked permanently, you've ruined him for anyone else so can you blame him for waiting for you all this time?

Seriously though this request was so good! I got a bit carried away and turned into a 2 part series that may or may not have drabbles added to the universe…I really hope this isn't just a load of word vomit you don't want to read lmao. I just love their dynamic so much, and also FRIDAY DINNERS AT THE BEEF IS CANON OKAY.

Golden Boy

part one of 2

warnings: miscommunication (i know i'm sorry), friends to lovers, carmen and the reader have horrible communication skills and don't know how to call, angst, anxiety

a/n: part two will be up hopefully tomorrow so look out! it may or may not include a smut scene 😈

p.s, listen to swim whilst reading this you'll thank me later

You sat hunched in the tight enclosure of the classroom desk chairs, the once loud conversations fluttering across the huddled groups of classmates and friends that stood against tables and chairs now coming to a standstill.

The air of anxious trepidation falls across the atmosphere of the damp classroom, the windows that had been opened to let the air in felt thin as you and the rest of the students you had known for half a decade waited for that familiar ring of the bell.

The bell that would solidify your last day in this classroom, in these run down halls, in the school you had first stumbled into anxious and oblivious at thirteen. 

Your heart ached at the nostalgia of it, and you can't bear to cast your gaze to your friends who had begun to sniffle, like they were holding back tears, the grandfather clock your geography teacher insisted on keeping ticked on as it always did, and whilst you had spent years burning holes through the glass, willing for it to go faster, your one dying wish is for the seconds to tick by in minutes. 

You weren’t ready, it ran straight through you, all this time leading up, from when you had first learnt your desire to pursue architecture till the moment you finished that last sentence on your final exams, you felt you would be filled with joy at the sound of your true departure into adulthood and college.

And yet, you felt like a kid again, learning how to ride a bicycle without the training wheels, trying to reach the fifth monkey bar, falling headfirst into the dirt ground of the field when you had thought you were more flexible then you truly were. 

You didn’t want to leave, you didn't want to leave this place, this place of memories and friends and people you knew and loved. And it was as if God was listening, cause the resounding echo of the school bell rang through the halls and it was as if he said ‘fuck you anyway’.

You gather the haphazard books and papers laying across your desk, you had purposefully delayed packing in order to waste as much time in this memory as possible, before adulthood would take it away and make it something of the past. You hear your friends calling your name, and you tell them to go ahead as you make your way to your teachers desk.

“Hey Mr Jefferson” You say to your teacher has begun to bid goodbye to the leaving students

Your teacher looks up at you with a tight smile, sadness washes over the wrinkles and creases of her features, her auburn hair falling in short waves at her shoulder and her olive lipstick wearing down. You have to swallow to stop the tears from dropping. Your Geography teacher, whilst not teaching Art, had been the catapult to realizing your fascination with Architecture and design. She had even helped tell your parents, who had been set on the idea of you going into Law or Medicine or anything other than creative arts. 

“You’ll do amazing, I believe it because I see how hard you try. Don’t look back at this place, leave with the door wide open and come back only when you want to design me a house” Your Teacher replies with a grin, and before you can reply shes shuffling through her drawers, before pulling out a sketchbook that has been aged and stained with use over the years.

“What’s this?” You ask, twisting the book in your hand, it was good quality, despite being old, it felt like an heirloom.

“It’s one of my sketchbooks I had during college, maybe some of my late night sketches fuelled by coffee and donuts might inspire you”

“I couldn't possible-”

“Yes you could, hell whatever you create will probably be 10 x greater than whatever is in there” Your teacher cuts you off with a chuckle, and you hug the notebook tight against your chest before hugging her goodbye.

You step into the familiar walls of your high school hallways, crowds of seniors running to find their friends and hug them for possibly the last time, test papers and report cards left trampled on the ground, it's chaos, but you love it and the sight almost pulls tears down your waterline.

You walk towards your locker, before you recognize the familiar wisps of blond curls catch your eyesight. Carmen.  You considered him one of your closest friends, bonding together over a love of game** and your equal hatred of your Period 4 Calculus teacher.

Carmen didn't have much when I came to be friends, and after he met you, it didn't really get to him anymore, he had you now, and you were more than enough. Over the years you had gotten close to every part of Carmen's life, Mickey, Richie, Sugar, they were all people you regarded as family.

But there was something unsaid between the both of you, it was like there was something beyond friendship, but the embers had just gathered and had left unignited.

He’s gathering his things from his locker, shoving them into a bag in that messy way he is, and he slams the locker with a jolt.

You're standing stationary in the middle of the hallway, classmates and other seniors running by you in confusion, your friends calling your name annoyed, but it's all muffled, it all doesn't matter because it's Carm and god your heart aches so bad. 

You see Carmen and he sees you, stopping a few meters away from you, and a moment of recognition washes over him as he gazes with those cerulean blues. There's grief in the way you look at each other, tears streaming down your cheek as you try to smile at him, realising this might be the last time you see him, forever, off to an Art school in New York, leaving him behind. You feel like your heart is being ripped from your chest and he shakes his head, his eyebrows scrunching up as he steps closer so that he’s only a whisper from you.

He brings his hand up, brushing a strand and tucking in behind your ear, eyes strained as he wipes your tears away painfully. He moves closer, so that his breath is against your neck and whispers

“Thought you told me you'd punch me in the stomach if I cried on the last day” Carmen whispers into your eyes with a grin that breaks through the tears that cause his eyes to swirl in colour's of waves.

His words make you laugh and cry at the same time, and you shake your head as you reach for his arm, and playfully hit your stomach with it. Carmen rests it against your waist, looking up to you in a pained expression, his eyes shift to the notebook grasped tight in your hands

“New sketchbook? That..doesn't look new” Carmen says, turning his head to examine the old book more closely.

“One of Mrs Jefferson’s, her sketches are..their fucking amazing” You sigh, running your hand across the folded spine of the sketch book.

“Thought teachers weren't meant to have favourites” Carmen shoots out, a playful grin on his lips

“Hmm, well they aren't supposed to tell you exactly” You banter with a giggle, you flick through the pages of the book, half drawn sketches in grey lead and ballpoint, Carmen tracing his fingers gently across the ingrained lines and shades.

“God you're something, you know that?” Carmen says, all of a sudden, and when you look up you realise he’s been staring at you the entire time.

“Bear..” You breathe out.

“I don't know how I'm going to-, I, it's all so much” You exhale, waving your arms around this place that has held so many memories, so much of your past kept in the creaks and cracks of plastered walls and lockers

“You're the only person in this goddamn place that's going to make something out of themselves, I bet my entire life on it Bug. You're going to do amazing, in that big city, you’re going to show em’' Carmen replies, grasping you against his touch tight. You look up at him, trying to memorise every dip and curve of his features, the curl of his hair that shone honey in the sun, those eyes that were always searching, and the small cut on his forehead where he fell off his skateboard that one summer evening.

“Don’t say goodbye”

“Okay” Your tongue feels like deadweight in your mouth. what if i never see you again?

“You say goodbye and it's the end. Just..don’t” I can't breathe carmy.

You can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him, pressing your nose into his shirt to smell the scent of patchouli and cigarettes he always carried, you want to tell him to come with you, to pack an overnight bag and run with you forever, but the words don’t taste right when you try to speak and you see yourself letting him go, and turning away with a shaky step.

Turn back Carmen whispers, so softly that only the gods above and the wind around him can hear it

You feel an urge to turn back, it speaks to you from within, and before you can stop yourself, your neck cranes, turning your body to get one last look at your golden boy before time would take him forever. 

Time would age him into a memory forever.

Carmen feels this tension leave his shoulders at the same time his heart shatters, you will find each other again, even if it was in another universe, where you're sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, going over groceries together with the afternoon light casting its glow across you. He will find you, he will find you and he won’t let go this time. 

*

“Honestly Ma, it’s fine, I’ll get the movers to come in a little early”. You groan into the phone pressed to your ear, papers and unresolved bills are left scattered across your dining room table and you have this itch that's begun to turn chronic somewhere you can’t reach.

You take a moment to look around your apartment, now barren of furniture, and filled instead with boxes of badly organised stuff you've accumulated over the years. This place, albeit small, had been your home ever since you stepped out of the yellow cabbed taxi on your first day in New York, and whilst it wasn't pretty, you felt a pang of guilt leaving it all behind. These walls had seen you through it all, the late night study cram’s, the breakdowns, the accomplishments, the one night stands. You'd miss her, but maybe you were just a nostalgic person.

You’ve made a life in New York, but you felt misplaced, like pieces of yourselves were scattered across the states. Chicago kept a part of you, and it was only when you had gotten the chance to move back home, did it click. You missed your city. And you had cut your lease and emptied out the last of your savings without a second thought.

Now all that was left was tying up loose ends and making the trip down. It was funny, in a way. You had run to New York to pursue architecture, and it brought you back to the very same place you had left, there was a certain trepidation when you thought of Chicago, it held so much of your past, in its city streets and evergreen trees, and you don’t know if you were quite ready to face those memories again.

*

It still smelled the same. You itch your nose, sniffling against the blooming scent of cocoa and caramel from the Chicago roads, all this time, and all that you can tell is how it still smelt like maple leaves and chocolate. It was comforting, and it felt like the warm embrace of a childhood friend that had stayed sitting on the corner of your suburban street corner all this time.

“Thank you Mae, really, I got the call last minute in New York to come back here and if it weren't for you, I’d be moving back into my old bedroom at my parents” You reply, gratitude filling every word. It was true, your friend had swooped in the second you called, fixing you up with a lease and an apartment with her realtor links. She came in a clutch, and she had made you promise to never leave her again in exchange.

“Oh shush doll, of course. This is probably payment for all the times I’ve crashed at yours anyway” Mae winks, the bracelets on her wrist clinking against each other. She didn't look like a typical realtor, more like a bohemian solo-traveller with her filly skirts and auburn red hair.

“I’m not going to let a degree transform my entire wardrobe, my clothes are antiques, their heirlooms, they tell a story” 

She had told you once, one late night on the rooftop of your New York apartment, sipping cheap wine and passing a blunt between you both. You wish you had known yourself as much as she did then.

She had visited you a couple times in New York, coming up for work and spending the time at yours instead of spending thousands on an Airbnb, but it had been a while since you've seen her, and all of a sudden you remember how much you missed her laugh.

“I’ve got some time to spend before it’s all hand on deck” You reply, placing the last of your boxes onto the empty wooden floor of the living room.

“Oh yeah? Can’t believe you’re gonna design a whole building on Michigan Av’, your a fucking inspiration Bug” Mae sighs in adoration, and you giggle, the feeling of embarrassment filling you at the mention of your reason back home.

You never got used to the praise and adoration you received over the years, despite your many accolades and awards, you still felt like that hopelessly broke architect student giving up lunch to pay rent. You didn’t remember when things started to change. When did things start to change?

“You know, if you’ve got time, you should check out the Farmers Market near River North” Mae replies, whilst flicking through her phone

“The one on Division Street?” You reply, you had a faint memory of the long strip of stalls filled with fresh produce, food and the rest of the little trinkets that were sold since you were born on the pleated table cloth of sheltered booths.

“That’s the one, this guy named Samson? Makes the best fucking bearclaw in the entire United States. Tell him you're a friend of mine and he'll hook you up…you know since you can't afford it” Mae replies playfully, and you roll your eyes with a laugh.

“Yeah yeah, you hook up with him or something?” You poke back, Mae had the tendency to know everyone in Chicago, from the mailman to the old woman you’d see feeding the bids on a park bench.

“Yeah, actually I did. Not like you could relate, how long has it been, hm?” Mae replies, stepping forward to whisper down at your pants.

“I’m so sorry she hasn't been taking care of you. What are you, mummify her?” Mae looks up from her crouched position with a raised eyebrow.

“Ugh, you know I've been too busy to think about that. She’s gonna have to be patient” You reply, you don’t want to think about how long it has actually been, since you've had any type of release. But the tension has begun to weigh on your shoulders as time went on and you fear it might become something you can’t ignore.

You begin to move some boxes into your bedroom, thanks to your planning your large furniture such as your bed and coach, had been moved into the apartment before the rest of the things had got here, so at least you wouldn't be sleeping on a mattress on the floor. Changing into a pair of dark jeans and a short sleeve top, you loop an embroidered handbag onto your shoulder.

“So, you coming?” You call to Mae, who’s begun to fill your fridge with the groceries she's swung by with.

“Sure would Bug, but got a call to come in. I’ll come by again later this evening though?” Mae replies, with a grunt as she lifts the 2 litre bottle of milk onto one of the drive shelves.

“Yes please, I’m dying for a glass of wine”

“And a blunt” Mae replies, snickering at the way you roll your eyes at her.

Mae offers to drop you off, but you wave her off, telling her you wanted to see a little more of your hometown. You needed some fresh air that wasn't the coffee and smoke scent of the New York streets.

The walk to the Farmers market was a short one, but you felt like you were wading through a current. By the way the memories of your past began to resurface as you passed the streets and shops. Every corner holds a part of you, and you have to rush by your old school to stop the pang of pain that surprises you. You weren't an emotional person, but god it was almost as if you were hanging by a thread the second you touched down on Chicago. 

What was causing this? You felt like you were holding your breath as you stepped through the fallen autumn leaves marking the sidewalk, the gentle sun on your back, what were you waiting for?

You tear yourself from your thoughts momentarily when you catch the looming buildings that had been built on ions ago, the infrastructure of Chicago still enamoured you, in a way that couldn't be beaten by even New York’s impossible skyscrapers.

There was a charm to it, each of the buildings felt like you were stepping into a different decade, they had been the stepping stones to a lot of the infrastructure and architecture that spread into other cities. You felt like you were at the start of it all every time your eyes trailed across the facade and arcades of the century old stone buildings.

Without realising, you had finally made it to the Farmers Market, the constant stream of people coming in and out with boxes of produce or hauling wooden antiques with very audible grunts. You can’t stop the smile stretching your face as you step through the embroidered banner at the front of the street.

Despite the many different stalls and food around you, you don't feel overstimulated. This was your home, you felt like you belonged, like a name scratched into wet cement, remaining ingrained for years no matter the seasons that came. 

You go over the haphazard list of things you wanted to look for in your mind, but you're caught off guard by a stall that seemed to be huddled by patrons. You step towards it, and as people move aside you see the blooming flowers and carefully wrapped banquets in woven wooden baskets to the side of the stall. A short woman with light brown curls is standing at the front, taking down orders with a grin, whilst a rather tall man behind her makes quick work to wrap delicate orders into soft brown parchment paper tied with string. 

And all of a sudden the need to buy pink tulips becomes your first priority. The woman at the front looks familiar, but you can't quite put your finger on where you've seen her, but as you walk up to the front her face morphs into familiar as she looks up at you in surprise.

“As I live and breathe” She says your name with a screech and it's her voice that pulls her name to your mouth. Adeline, a close friend from senior year who’d taught you how to crochet and pick a lock.

“Bug? How've you been? What brings you back to town?” Ade replies after telling the man behind her your order without you even saying a thing. 

“Tulips, pink ones right?” Ade grins, and you have to let out a chuckle at how you haven't changed even a little.

“Got invited to join in designing a new building on Michigan Avenue, so I'll be back for a while-”

“Michigan Avenue? Holy shit Bug! You’re making moves, knew you always were special” Adeline replies with a gushing smile and you rush to reply with the same adoration

“Are you kidding, look at this line” You motion to the increasing line of people forming at Adeline's stall.

“People love their flowers” Adeline replies with a shrug before you shake your head vehemently

“No, they love your flowers, and for good reason, look at these” You gush, pressing your face into the bundle of tulips that had been handed to you.

“They only look that good because Henry's so good at wrapping them” Adeline replies with a laugh, her eyes flicking to the brown haired man dressed in corduroy behind her. A look passes between them that tells you there was more than love between them.

“Henry huh?” You reply with a grin, and the man is quick to introduce himself, and you don’t ignore the cold press of an encrusted band on his ring finger as he shakes your hand with a soft smile.

And it's as if Adeline reads your mind and she slips her left hand in yours, looking up at you with a teary grin.

“Yes, yes I know, I should've called, and I’m so sorry-”

You press yourself against her, leaning over the stall to wrap your arms around her. You whisper words of congratulation, shutting down any words that hinted at you being mad at her.

It wasn't her fault, it should be you she's mad at, you hadn’t really made that much of an effort to keep in contact with your friends back at home, and the reality of it weighed on you heavy now, you had missed so many milestones of your loved ones, all to chase your own dreams in New York.

You felt like you were constantly playing catch up, and you couldn't lie when a strange feeling crept up at the thought of your friends moving on with life. You were so incredibly happy for Adeline, and you were even more elated when she had told you of the Wedding in April that you had to come to. 

But that didn't stop that same strange feeling of being behind everyone else, you had spent so long climbing the ladder to wear what you wear now, relationships and love weren't even a thought, you filled your nights with studying and drawing and the occasional fling, but nothing more. And now doubts had begun to creep in, had you missed out? 

Watching everyone around you get married and have kids whilst you were still drawing buildings in that same sketchbook your teacher had given you 8 years ago. You’re not looking as you walk past the many stalls of the Farmers market, and it is your thoughts again that causes you to accidentally stumble into the hard muscle of a man back. You feel yourself falling, before arm's reach out, grabbing you quickly to stop you from ending flat on your face. 

You breath out a sigh of relief, shaking a head at your clumsiness

“God, ‘m so sorry, I’ve just been in my head, I wasn’t looking where i was going-”

“Holy fuck” Your quick to spit an apologetic thanks, you haven't even looked up to see who you've dubbed into, and when the sound of surprise meets your ease you look up, only to be remain stone faced with your mouth left open.

“Richie?” You say, the shock of it is still in the air. You hadn't expected to see him in Chicago, or maybe you did and it was sooner than you thought.

“When did you get back? Holy shit, thought we wouldn't see you again” Richie replies with a smile

“Yeah uh, came down for some work for a little while. How, uh How are things” You reply with a squeak, you can’t bear to say what you're thinking and Richie nods, a look of acknowledgement in his face. Mickey’s death had shaken you, it had changed you in its own way, and you still grief him, it still hurts when Richie's face kinda falls and melts at the reminder of his best friend's death.

“After, uh, after Mickey, he had left the restaurant, you know, the Beef?” You nod in agreement, the hazy memory of the sandwich shop on the corner of Chicago's, busiest streets, you stomach rumbles at the thought of one of those sandwiches you'd down in less than a minute during your high school years.

“Yeah well, get this, he left it to Carmen. And honestly, I was hesitant at first, real hesitant, I love him, but god, he's a self centred ass coming in like he knew everything, spewing the bullshit CDC shit he learnt up in the big apple? He changed things, and you know how I feel about change, but he made it better, I can;t lie, and you better not tell him this, but the Beef actually..” Richie’s familiar rambles are muffled to your ears, the only thing you can hear is Carmen.

Everything zones out as you scrunch your eyebrows, wincing almost, at the pain and it shocks you, it shocks you how the very name of him still brings back those memories. You still hurt the same way you did the day you left him.

You must have looked out of it, as Richie shakes your shoulder, anchoring you back to the present, and you have to swallow back the bite of pain that bleeds through your chest.

“Did you hear what I said? The Beef’s holding a little family dinner tomorrow, shutting down the shop early, inviting only friends and family, it’ll be like a little reunion for you! You have to come” Richie replies, and you nod trying to seem present.

Carmen took over the Beef? He was in New York? What?

Your mind is scattered with the uproar of questions you have, the thought of Carmen, the memory of him is like a fresh wound. It un tethered and opens up a thread of thoughts and emotions you had thought you bottled up and threw deep into the ocean.

“You, you still talk to him right? Ya’ll were pretty close growing up, like fucking thieves attached to the hip if i can remember” Richie chuckles, fondly remembering the two of you.

You cough back, smiling up at him as you trying to reply coherently

“Yeah, uh sometimes you know” You lie

No. You haven't spoken to him since you left, and it feels like your tongue falls dead when you try to say his name again. You hadn't called and he hadn't picked up. Carmen told you not to say goodbye, but the truth was it had been the end of you even before you had both realised. 

You had spent years pretending like Carmen not calling you, not making an effort to see you after everything didn’t burn, but the reality of it had marked you in a way that felt eternal.

“So you're coming, yeah? You and Carmen can finally catch up” Richie replies with a smile, and look of something passes through his eyes before it leaves, and you have to smile back with a nod, like you and Carmen were still close, like you don't feel that he might turn you away or scream at you the second he saw you, like you weren't both irrevocably in love with each other.

Bear. You missed him, you are shocked by how much you do, you thought bottling up your memories and emotions about him and stuffing them so far back into your mind you forgot would actually change anything. There had always been this lingering thought, at the recesses of your mind, the last thing you imagined before you fell asleep, the feeling that filled you the second you came back to Chicago, it was all Carmen, it was all your golden boy.

And now you would have to see him, in less than a day you would  be in the same room as Carmen Berzatto, you don't want to say it, you don't want to speak it into acknowledgement but deep down, you wanted to see him again. 

Beyond it all, you both were bonded in friendship, sharing something you didn't even have with Adeline or Mae, and you had felt like a part of yourself was missing each day that went passed without hearing from him. Had he forgotten you? Had it been as hard for him to go on with life? He had been in New York for christ sake, he didn't even think to visit you, that thought alone made you want to run back home and never come out.

You couldn't bare the possibility of exposing yourself to such heartache, to the chance of being rejected by the very person who you forever longed for. You were always searching for him, looking through crowds to see the familiar curl of his brown hair, or the scent he carried, ears always leaning in, trying to see if it would catch his syrupy baritone voice.

The two of you were forever connected, like the roots of trees spanning miles under the Earth. The kind of companionship that transcended time and space, and god did you want to feel the sharp edge of his jaw between your hands.

You couldn't stop it now, Richie had opened something you kept locked and sunk for a reason, and now it felt like you would break if you didn't see Carmen. Even if it would break you, even if it was the one thing in this world that would destroy you, 

You had to see your golden boy.

[toovaeloe]

hands 𝝑𝝔 You’re beautiful, but in his eyes you look even prettier with his hands on you. Or in you. Tomato, Tomatoe.

𝝑𝝔 suguru geto x fem reader drabble 𝝑𝝔 mdni 𝝑𝝔 cw 𝝑𝝔 fingering, overstim, aaalmost finger sucking, idk his hands are so MEOOWWW 𝝑𝝔

☁️🖤☁️

Suguru just loved being able to have his hands on you. In any possible way he could, anywhere, anytime.

He adored corny couple-y stuff like holding pinkies when the two of you walked down the street. He loved squishing your face between his palms, watching your lips purse, pinching at your cheeks. When you were standing in lines, he’d tug you closer by the belt loop, before slipping his hands into your jean pockets. He’d have his thumb rubbing soothing patterns against your thigh with his other hand resting on the wheel during drives, just to feel closer to you.

You’re the prettiest little thing in his eyes, and you’re even more gorgeous because you’re his. So it’s only natural that you look perfect when he’s holding you.

But one of his favorite looks for you just might be this one, all cute and fucked out on his fingers.

“Theerrree she is,” He drew with a purr of satisfaction as he brought you to yet another orgasm. Only now did his fingers slow in their relentless pace, thumb drawing torturously slow circles on your clit all as he observed every detail of your expression, enthralled by the crystalline tears rolling down the sides of your face to the quivering of your lip. “There’s my sweet girl.”

As adorable as you were, pleading with him, insisting that ”’s too much” with your chest heaving in shuddery breaths and your creased brows paired with that dazed look in your half lidded eyes, he wasn’t quite ready to accept that. He wasn’t done with you yet.

“I know, I know,” He hushed with faux sympathy and thinly veiled amusement. His features screwed into a poor mockery of your pouty expression as he nodded in contrast to how you feebly shook your head, other hand smoothing gently up and down your side. “But you always take it so beautifully for me, don’t you?”

“Hey.”

Suguru’s tone turned stern as your eyelids began to droop nearly closed. He’s almost cruel in the way he pulls his fingers from you so abruptly. He is cruel, because he revels in the pitiful little whimper that pitters out of you. He gave a couple pats to your hip with his opposite hand, and when that didn’t seem to work, he snapped his fingers a few times in point-blank range of your face.

“You still with me, baby? Good.” He smiled, delighting in the way your eyes fluttered back open so abruptly. The way your breath hitched when he tapped his fingers still coated in your release to your lips a couple times.

“Now open up for me.”

a/n: a cherry Coke Zero good movie and maybe having his kids would fix me I think …👩🏽‍🦯‍➡️☁️🎀

have a wonderful day and stay hydrated 🙈🤍

☁️☁️☁️