#first time doing something like this so Please be gentle
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celiababy ¡ 3 days ago
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Ain't Right
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: You have a major (borderline obsessive) crush on Joel, and you're on a mission to fuck him.
Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, age gap (56/20), swearing, fingering (fem!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, size kink, cum eating, name calling, kinda mean Joel, alcohol, vomiting, an extremely brief mention of suicide
Disclaimer: I lowkey don't know the logistics of the show so if some things are wrong please look over it I'm just trying to write smut about Joel Miller godbless.
Ain't Right part 2
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Ever since that tortured old man showed up in Jackson, your life hasn't been the same.
Tommy's older brother, and your absolute undoing.
When Joel Miller rode into town, it was like everything suddenly made sense. The skies got clearer, the air smelled better, and the birds even chirped their love songs louder.
Everything about him drew you in; his cold demeanor, stoic face, tired eyes—but gentle around those he cared about, which was only a few select people.
And you certainly were not one of those select people.
Joel didn't know what to think about you.
To him, you were odd. Yes, you were undoubtedly the most beautiful girl in Jackson, but he felt distance between the two of you was essential.
He felt this way because he knew.
Joel wasn't oblivious to your stares; he might've been an old man, but he remembered the laws of attraction fairly well.
He didn't like the thought of you liking him.
You were young, attractive, and had plenty of age-appropriate prospects just begging for your attention. Every boy in Jackson wanted a piece of you—but you only had eyes for Joel.
He was getting old and tired, ain't no reason why you should be so fond over him.
He also didn't like that you made your attraction so obvious. It made people whisper, and Joel about had enough teasing from Tommy.
"You gonna let that young thing jump your bones or what, Joel?" Is an example of the few things his brother would chirp at him whenever you were around and had eyes on him like he was a target.
So, all things considered, it's no surprise when Joel is reluctant to make a supply run with you.
You had begged Tommy to let you go out and finally start pulling your weight, carefully adding that Joel would be a great teacher for a first timer like yourself.
You stand near the truck, squeezing the straps of your backpack while watching Joel and Tommy whisper to themselves a couple feet away.
"You can't find anyone else?" Joel growls lowly, narrowing his eyes at his insufferable brother who he’d really like to strangle right now.
"Are you seriously scared of a twenty year old girl, Joel?" Tommy asked exasperatedly, throwing his arm out in disbelief. "It'll take two hours tops, what the hell are you so scared of?" Joel is exhaling through his nose, dragging a hand down his jaw in complete disgruntlement.
"You know what the hell I'm scared of Tommy—goddammit," He gets in his brother’s face before realizing you’re still watching them.
He takes a moment to back up and calm down, breathing out through his nose.
"I do not need this town thinkin' I am encouraging this girls...feelin's." He murmurs lowly.
Tommy rolls his eyes before shoving Joel's backpack into his chest.
"Just don't fuck her, Joel. How hard could it be?"
Joel watches as Tommy turns his back and walks away, leaving just you and him.
Joel had spent a lot of time making sure he was never in a situation alone with you—now he was about to be your unsupervised mentor.
He feels a groan try and crawl its way out his throat, but he pushes it down.
He starts walking to the truck, not even looking at you as he passes and yanks the driver side door open with more force than necessary.
"Let's make this quick." He grunts out, climbing inside.
You do the same, only with a little bit more enthusiasm. ***
The trip is a complete bust.
Joel barely paid you any attention, no matter how many flirty gestures you made at him.
You'd say something remotely suggestive and he'd either glare at you, or just flat out ignore you.
But you were relentless. Giving up on him wasn't in the cards for you, no matter how many judgmental looks he casted your way.
You guys had been driving back to town for around five minutes; Joel has kept his eyes firmly on the road in fear of you sparking a conversation with him.
But you do anyways.
You turn your body to face him in the bench seat, your eyes cascading down his breath-taking side profile.
You zoned in on the gray patches of his beard, and how his face had the remnants of a long, unforgiving life weaved into his wrinkles and scars.
You're momentarily rendered speechless by his looks before he side-eyes you.
"What?" He huffs out, not being able to handle your intense stare any longer.
"Why not?"
A beat.
"What?" He asks again, his brows furrowing together, an annoyed and confused expression painting his features.
"Why won't you fuck me?"
Joel physically winces at your language, scoffing in what looks to be disgust as he starts shaking his head.
"We're not starting this." He snaps firmly, a tone in his voice that you haven't heard before.
Completely disregarding his words, you start.
"Is it because I'm not pretty enough?" Joel groans out, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Is it because there's someone else?" He's close to snapping. "Is it because you can't get it up? I heard thats a problem with guys your age-"
Joel slams on the brakes, sending you lurching forward. He shoves the truck into park before turning to face you, a scary look on his face.
"I am not going to fuck you--Christ almighty," Joel raises his voice at you.
You're staring at him, wide eyes and lips parted in surprise. You weren't really expecting this.
"you're bustin' my fuckin' balls, Look kid," He starts up again, this time with a softer tone. "M'about 40 years too old for you-"
You cut him off with a murmur. "36, I did the math."
"Same damn thing," he snaps, shaking his head. "Point is—you don't needa be wastin' your time with me; there are plenty boys your age that will satisfy your...you."
You scoff in his face but try to disguise it by clearing your throat.
"I'm not asking you to marry me, Joel," You start, a sad smile spreading across your lips. "S'just sex." You say with a shrug, blush coating your cheeks because now your mind is imagining sex with him.
He stays silent and looks away from you, closing his eyes like he couldn’t believe this was happening.
That urges you to say more.
"I won't tell anyone," You're practically whispering, looking down at your fidgeting hands in your lap. "I'd let you do anything you wanted to me."
Joel's heart cinches in his chest at your words, mostly because he can tell you're being so genuine.
Why the hell did you like him so much? He just couldn’t understand it.
But he can't entertain this any longer because he knows if he did, he'd give into you.
"I don't wanna hear another goddamn word outta your mouth." Joel says in a strikingly even and calm tone, putting the truck into drive and continuing back.
He's eerily silent, and so is the rest of the trip because you're too dejected to speak.
Eventually, you both arrive home and you're fast to get out of the truck.
You slam the door and keep your head down as you walk away, snow crunching beneath your boots.
Joel takes his time, watching you storm off with tired eyes.
He feels bad for being so rough on you, but he figured it was the only way to get you to stop liking him.
Tommy walks up, a concerned look on his face as he looks back between you and Joel.
"Guessin' you didn't fuck her."
***
Nobody had seen you in days.
The pain of rejection had you in a mental place that you had never experienced before.
No one has ever denied you—ever.
The situation was 100x worse considering you actually liked Joel, and he wasn't just another toy to play with.
Joel figured his life would get easier with you not around, and it kinda did in some aspects.
But he couldn't stop the gnawing feeling of guilt slowly eating at him like a parasite.
He'd been cruel to you in the way he went about things, and he felt bad.
Had he really broken your heart? He didn't know you liked him that much.
He sits in his living room, contemplating how to go about this entirely fucked up situation.
He debates making amends with you, apologizing and rejecting you again but in a gentler way.
He deliberates on his plan of action while nursing a glass of whiskey before he's interrupted by three bangs on his front door, followed by a screeching: "JOEL"
He mutters a 'what the fuck' under his breath, walking to the door and picking his 9mil up on the way.
His eyes widen when he sees you-standing there in all your glory.
It's the middle of winter and snowing like hell, yet you're wearing shorts and a tank top with a beer bottle in your hand.
"Jesus, kid-what the fuck," Joel ushers you inside quickly, taking his big jacket off the coatrack and draping it over you.
He also tosses his gun to the side, obviously you were no threat.
"You tryin' to get frostbit? Christ," he's swearing and muttering profanities as he guides you over to the couch, now basically swaddling you in blankets.
You've never been inside his house before, only ever walked passed it a few times. It smells like him.
You, however, smell like alcohol and bad decisions.
Joel picked up on how drunk you were the minute you stumbled through the door. He takes the bottle from your hand and sets it aside somewhere, glaring at you like how a mad parent would.
"The hell are you doin' out in the snow like that? Fuckin' death wish or somethin'?"
His words are kinda fuzzy in your ears, you're so drunk that you barely even register them.
An unprompted giggle spills from your lips as you shake your head at him.
"It's not snowing silly," You chide, making him out to be an idiot when, in actuality, it's a damn blizzard outside.
He knows from that statement alone that you are way off your rocker tonight.
"How much have ya had to drink, kid?" Joel asks, raking a hand through his graying hair.
"Don't call me kid," You snap, a quick flash of anger in your expression. "M'not a kid."
Joel rolls his eyes so hard that he probably caused a tsunami on the other side of the world.
“Yeah yeah, whatever. What are you doin’ here?” He asks exasperatedly, dragging a hand down his jaw while looking at your trembling figure.
There’s a long pause before you answer. You just got distracted by his big brown eyes.
“Jus’ wanted to say hi.” You murmur, unable to tear your gaze away from his face.
“Say hi?” He reiterates, looking at you like you’ve actually lost your mind.
You probably have.
After a moment, Joel can’t help but chuckle in disbelief, letting his body lean back against the couch.
The absurdity of it all turned humorous to him.
Here you are, sitting in his living room, practically nude with only his coat and blankets protecting your modesty, having just trekked through the snow all for what? To say hey?
You’re still sitting there, motionless and trying to remember how to breathe because his laughing face has your heart lighting off fireworks.
“Fuckin’ hell—hi.” Is all he says, turning his head to the side to look at you as he crosses his arms over his chest.
You smile like a dope at him, so extremely happy to be there in his company.
But the alcohol in your system is fighting you, and you’re finding it hard to keep your eyes open.
“S’it cool if I say the nigh?” You slur, falling vertically on the couch, your head crashing onto Joel’s thigh.
You nuzzle your cheek against the fabric of his jeans and Joel is just about to gently push you off, but he stops himself.
You look so comfortable and so at peace that Joel can’t do anything except stare at you.
Your cheek is slightly smushed, your lips are parted, your eyes are shut and don’t plan on opening—it’s insane to him how at home you looked.
Like you belonged here, head rested on his lap.
Fuck.
He was fucked this time.
He doesn’t move you. Instead, he fixes the blankets on top of you so you’re fully covered, and sits there with you the entire night.
He’s really gone soft.
***
When morning comes, you’re first to wake up, accompanied by a splitting headache.
You don’t even notice how Joel’s hand had fallen onto your waist some time during the night because you’re too busy making a b-line for the bathroom.
You chuck your guts up into the toliet, clutching the porcelain and groaning out in pain.
Joel wakes up to the sound of your hurling, momentarily disoriented before he remembers last nights events.
He’s quick to come to your aid in the bathroom, wasting no time gathering your hair in his fist to get it out of your face.
"S'right, get it all out," He murmurs out encouragingly, seemingly unfazed by the disheveled sight of you.
You’re too sick to be embarrassed, that’ll come later surely.
He sits on the wall of the tub as he continues holding your hair back, yawning every now and then like this was just a regular Tuesday morning.
Eventually, by the mercy of God, you get it all out of your system and slump up against the wall.
“M’sorry,” You immediately apologize, figuring that is the only right move in this situation.
“Don’t be. Been through plenty'a that in my day.”
His words are uncharacteristically reassuring and you find yourself taken back by them.
You soon realize this is probably just the hazy morning Joel, the Joel where he isn't worried about anything except coffee and breakfast—like everything wrong in his life is put on the back burner for this short minute in time.
“I’ll get you some water and Advil, sit tight.” He grunts before standing up on his feet, knees popping as he walks out.
You watch as he leaves, wiping the corners of your mouth with the back of your hand.
Aside from the vomit part, you could get used to this.
You've never seen him so...domestic. His hair was all messy, his voice was raspy, he had that morning haze over his features that you felt so honored to witness.
You suddenly felt compelled to look at your own appearance, hopping to your feet and looking in the dirty mirror.
You resist the urge to audibly gasp at your reflection, opting for a disgusted look instead.
Your hair is a rats nest, your clothes are a mess, and your mascara has rubbed off in black smudge all over the skin around your eyes.
In a desperate attempt to look at least semi-presentable, you wash your face with water and comb through your hair with your fingers.
The idea that Joel had seen you looking like that was making your stomach churn again.
Before you can grovel about it any longer, he rounds the corner with a glass of water and little brown pills in his hand.
“Here,” He says softly, handing you the water and tilting the pills into your open palm. “Take these ‘n drink all that water and ya should get to feelin’ better.”
You do as he says, swallowing the Advil in one go before taking a big sip to wash it down.
His eyes drift down to your shoulder, where your tank top strap has fallen. No doubt from all that vigorous throwing up you were doing moments ago.
Without thinking, his fingers graze your forearm before bringing the strap back up to its correct position, clearing his throat in the process.
A beat of silence falls over the both of you.
You’re gobsmacked by the complete nonchalance of his touch, staring at him with your mouth slightly open in shock.
“What?” He asks defensively, his tone pointed.
You look between him and your shoulder strap, then slowly move to set your water down.
“Are you sure we can’t fuck?”
“Goddammit—” Joels cursing before you can even finish saying the last word in your sentence.
He turns away from you, probably the fastest you’ve seen anyone turn in their life, and walks towards his room with an accelerating pace.
He shakes his head in disbelief all the way down the hall, pivoting on his heel to duck into his bedroom.
You follow him, not really fazed by how he completely refused to answer your question, though you didn’t think he would anyway.
Before you can step foot into the threshold of his room, Joel walks out, causing you to back up.
He shoves a stack of clothes in your direction, looking down at you with a frustrated face. “Put these clothes on and go home.”
You look down, realizing he was letting you borrow a sweater and jeans of his so you didn’t die walking back to your house from the cold.
Your heart warms at this thoughtfulness.
Without wasting any time, you take the clothes from his hands, smiling happily. “Can I keep them?”
“Why the hell would you wanna keep my clothes?” He’s got that confused/angry look on his face as he asks, and you have to suppress a giggle at the sight of it.
You bring the pieces of fabric up to your nose and inhale, humming as you breathe out again. “They smell like you.”
“Christ,” Joel beings his hands up to rub at his eyes. “Fine, do whatever. Just hurry up and change, jesus,"
Ever the tease, you set down his clothes and begin to lift your tank top like you planned to change right in front of him.
Joel's hands shoot out to stop you, a 'don't try me,' look on his face.
"Put them on over your clothes," Joel says sternly, watching the way you sigh because you weren't fast enough in lifting your tank top off.
However, you sieze the opportunity in front of you.
Joel's hands are holding yours down, so you work to intertwine your fingers, invading his space by stepping forward.
"Or, you could take my clothes off," You purr, your chest now flush with his torso.
Joel exhales through his nose, his jaw clenching as he tried deciding how he was going to get out of this situation.
But then he paused.
Looking down at you now, so eager and wide eyed, made him wonder.
If he fucked you, and made you realize it wasn't what you were probably imagining in your head, maybe then you'd finally leave him alone.
He would just...pretend to be awful at sex.
(Even though it had been so long and he wasn't sure if he'd actually need to 'pretend' anymore.)
There's a long silence that drags out between the both of you.
Your stomach is doing flips because it's looking like he's finally going to agree.
His resolve cracks and Joel can't do anything but sigh in defeat.
Slowly, Joel pulls you back into his room, closing the door behind you both.
Time is moving in slow motion.
You can't believe it's finally happening.
He guides you back until the back of your knees hit his bed, prompting you to sit down on it.
"I'm only going to do this once," Joel's voice is uncharacteristically low and calm, and it has your core tightening.
You nod in acknowledgement, waiting to see what he's going to do next.
With care, he pushes your shoulder down so you're laying on your back. "Are you sure you want this?" He asks, brown eyes searching yours.
"Have I not made it obvious?" You quip, a giggle following shortly after.
Joel only shakes his head before his fingers latch around the fabric of your shorts, pulling them down and off your legs.
"S'pose you have." He murmurs, scratching the back of his neck.
You're vibrating with excitement and you repeat what you tried earlier, only this time succeeding with taking your top off.
Of course, you're not wearing a bra.
Joel realizes in that moment that he bit off way more than he could chew.
He hasn't seen breast that weren't on a soggy piece of paper in at least a few years, and yours--well, his cock stood no chance.
You hear him swallow, watching as he can't seem to stop staring at your chest.
Realizing that he might need a little encouragement to start speeding things along, you smile up at him and whisper, "touch me Joel".
Yeah, screw this. His plan of pretending to be bad was now entirely forgotten—he was going to do what he wanted, so help him god.
He huffs out a curse before sliding a hand up your torso, stopping once he's fully cupped one of your breasts in one hand. He kneads it like dough while using his other hand to disappear under your panties.
A choked moan erupts from your lips once you feel his fingers brush along your clit, rubbing around and spreading your slick around all too slowly.
"haven't even done anythin' yet and you're already fuckin' soaked..." He murmurs really to just himself, his eyes casting down to watch as he rips your underwear off impatiently.
"M'always like this whenever you're around," you mewl to spur him on, spreading your legs wider.
"Oh you are, huh?" Joel repeats back, the tiniest bit of cruelty in his tone that makes you shiver.
You nod, bucking your hips into his hand desperately.
"don't get why you like an old man like me, s'gross." His tone is flat but it's clear he's teasing by the way he curls his fingers inside of you. He's not really expecting a response, but you feel compelled.
You lurch forward, gasping at the feeling. "I really like you," You rush out breathlessly. "I'd do anything you wanted me to." You say earnestly as you stare into his eyes, loving what you're seeing.
Joel remembers when you told him that the first time, his heart cinching the same way it did then.
Joel is at war with himself. One side of him is screaming that this whole situation is fucked up and he is better off without you.
Another part of him thinks that this is the most he’s ever felt in a long time. And he doesn't want to lose it.
You can see the gears turning in his head. His fingers have slipped from you and you wince at the loss.
Slowly, you sit up. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, your nipples pressing into his shirt.
He's confused and momentarily panicked when your faces get so close together, his hands seeking purchase on your hips.
In an unexpected move, you rake your hands through the side of his hair, looking lovingly at his face.
"I just wanna be someone for you," You murmur, your face breaking a little as Joel's resolve also cracks. "Doesn't matter what. I'm very versatile." You mumble the last part to try and lighten the mood.
Joel just stares at you—something swimming behind his eyes that you can't quite place.
Eventually, he crashes his forehead against yours, sighing out.
"You're makin' this fuckin' impossible." He rasps before kissing you with a passion you've never felt before.
You feel victorious.
He's finally given in to you.
Eagerly, you kiss back, wrapping your legs around his torso and grinding your bare cunt against the bulge in his jeans.
"Then stop trying so hard to get rid of me," You sigh out, chasing his lips even as you're trying to speak.
He groans and you catch it in your mouth, the pressure on his clothed cock making him dizzy.
“Fuck,” He’s quick to unbuckle his belt, sliding it out of the loops and tossing it somewhere on the floor. “Lay back.” He demands and you immediately follow suit.
He's never been that...assertive with you before. It makes you tingle all over.
He looks starved as he peers down at you, specifically your cunt.
He literally can’t tear his eyes off your sex—he only looks up to your gaze when you let out an impatient whine.
He rips down his pants, letting his cock spring free and slap against his stomach.
Now you can’t tear your eyes away from his sex.
You’ve only dreamt it so many times, but now that it’s finally in front of you—it all just feels surreal.
It’s better than you imagined, perfect.
“I don’t have a—”
You know what he’s about to say so you cut him off immediately. “S’okay, like it raw. Closer to you that way.” You murmur.
Joel looks physically pained that he’s not inside you right now. For some reason, you just know all the right things to say.
“Closer to me?” He huffs out, hooking his arms around your thighs and pulling you down to the edge of the bed where he stood.
Now your cunt is flush with the base of his member and the sensation drives you both insane. “You’re fuckin’ insane.”
Joel rasps, but the way he says it reveals just how far he’s fallen. He knows you’re crazy, and yet here he is, balancing you out.
He glides his member back and forth against your folds, gathering up your wetness with a clenched jaw and furrowed brows.
He looks so concentrated—meanwhile you’re writhing with pleasure and impatience. Your cunt is clenching around nothing, desperate for him.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs to himself, eyes tracing all over you.
You freeze.
Joel had complimented you for the first time, and it was genuine.
He notices you stiffen and takes a moment to pause.
Your entire body erupts with goosebumps, your heart beating at exceptionally fast speeds.
He's worried for a second that something is horribly wrong.
“What?” He asks, confused at what’s got you so wound up.
Your face is flushed red as you bashfully giggle. “You called me pretty.”
Ah fuck.
Joel finds you so charming it hurts.
After he remembers how to breathe again, he rolls his eyes and clears his throat.
“I have my cock to your cunt, of course I find you pretty.”
You smile and shrug. “Still. Nice to hear.” You’re all smiles until his tip prods at your entrance, causing a gasp to leave your throat.
He continues to apply pressure with his tip and it’s driving you crazy.
“Fuck Joel—are you trying to kill me?” You whine, hips wiggling to get him in.
He scoffs and shakes his head. “Relax, m’almost there.”
Slowly, he begins pushing his way inside. His mushroom head breaches you entirely and it feels like you can hear the angels singing.
He continues forward, the stretch being mainly around the middle of his thick cock.
But you’re taking it like a champ.
Joel braces himself with hands on both sides of your torso as he bottoms out, a groan crawling its way out of his throat.
The sensation is absolutely delicious.
A little bit of pain from the stretch, but so much pleasure from the fullness.
“Joel, ohmygod you feel so good inside me.” You moan, throwing your head back.
Your hips start moving on their own, but he immediately stops you with two large hands.
“D-Don’t move—fuck.” Joel grumbles out, his face pinched together in what looked like pain.
You’re confused for a moment, thinking maybe that he might just be really into cockwarming.
But then it hits you.
“Were you gonna come?” The tone in your voice makes it seem like you’d be elated if that was the case—like the most flattering thing in the world.
Joel looks pissed that you caught on so quick.
In truth, the moment he put his tip in, he was holding back his orgasm.
Can you blame him? He’s only fucked his hand for the last couple years.
“S’been a while.” Is all he can say, his chest heaving up and down in concentration. You know he’s embarrassed, but you can’t help but smile like a dope at him.
“If you come, please do it inside, please,” you beg, reaching out for his arms that caged you in.
Joel's rational mind feels like it just touched down in looney town after hearing your begging.
He feels crazy because he liked the thought of the idea you proposed. You even see him hesitate. But then he scoffs and shakes his head.
Joel drops down closer to your face, slowly starting to rock his hips into you. "Tryin' to baby trap me, girl?" He grunts in your ear, making you moan out.
Your walls are clenching down on him, and it’s making it that much harder to hold back. “No-no, promise, just wanna be full of you." You manage to blubber out...unconvincingly.
You probably didn't really want a baby with Joel, but your lust-driven brain was working on fumes and you just wanted to do what felt good.
Joel's grunting in your ear was not helping things. His fingers were gripping your hip so hard, you figured it would probably bruise tomorrow
Good. You wanted whatever he would give you.
"Christ--m'not gonna last much longer," Joel groans, picking his head up a little to meet your gaze. He wanted to kick himself for not being able to last, but when he saw your face, all those feelings disappeared.
You looked so--perfect. Soaking up the moment in case it was the last, god you hoped it wasn't the last time. Now that you've finally had a tase of him, you weren't sure you could live without it.
Your legs tighten around his waist, keeping him firmly in your cunt. Joel notices this and also your pleading eyes, a growl leaving his throat.
"Please, please, please, please," you beg, never breaking eye contact with him as his thrusts pick up speed.
He ruins your long string with pleas with a needy kiss, shoving his tongue down your throat like a starving man.
You accept it happily, moaning out into the kiss while Joel manhandles your hips to take his cock.
The feeling is damn near euphoric for both you and him. It gets even better when Joel's hand comes down to rub at your clit again.
Your back arches off the bed as you gasp and moan out, wrapping your arms back around his shoulders. "F-Fuck!" You moan into his ear, probably drooling on his shoulder in the process. "thankyouthankyouthankyou-" you sputter out in choked sobs. He was really good at working on your clit, you couldn't do anything else but thank him for it.
Joel feels a surge of something when he hears you. He's never had a woman thank him in bed before.
It's enough to push him over the edge. And apparently you too.
"I'm gonna come Joel, please don't stop," There are pools of tears in your eyes that Joel is just now noticing. He's about to reply to you, but he finds himself speechless when he feels your cunt start constricting and fluttering around him like a vice.
"Fuck!" He groans out loudly, his hips starting to falter in their rhythm. But then he picks up speed again, and in no time he's like a madman jackhammering into you.
You're a mess of screams and cries and moans underneath him, happily taking everything he was giving you.
When Joel feels himself about to come, he notices how your legs are still tightly wrapped around him, keeping him inside, and he manages to scoff out.
"Gotta let me go baby," You've never heard that pet name from him before, and it makes you crumble. His hands move to grab at your thighs, kneading the flesh there.
You whine out but reluctantly release the grip your legs had on him. Joel doesn't waste time before hugging both your legs on his chest, keeping them firmly placed while your feet squirmed by his ear.
"Atta girl," he murmurs before picking up speed again, his cock head pressing into your cervix.
It's all too much for you. Joel looks so amazing pounding into you from above, his concentrated face, his sweat, the way his salt and pepper hair is all disheveled, you're losing your mind.
Your core is on fire and you can't stop yourself.
In a staggering turn of events, you come first.
Your walls come down like bricks on his dick, you cry out, throwing your head back in complete bliss and ecstasy.
Seeing and feeling this, Joel is quick to follow in your steps. He rips himself from that warm hole of yours and pumps himself dry onto your stomach.
You watch it all with wide eyes, you wouldn't have missed Joel's orgasm face for the world!
Of course, his eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth was open as he was breathing heavily, and his eyebrows turned down like he was mad.
God he was so beautiful.
His thick ropes of cum shoot all over your stomach and even your breasts as he jerks himself off to completion.
When he finishes, he takes a moment to catch his breath, finally opening his eyes to see you scoop up his cum from your breast with your finger and shove it in your mouth.
Your tongue swirls around his seed and you swallow eagerly, humming out in satisfaction at the taste of him.
Joel's watching in complete fascination, though his expression looks a little angry. When does it not?
"taste so good," you mumble with your finger still in your mouth, looking up at him with your big eyes.
He moves before he can think about it--ripping your hand away from your lips and caging you in a slow but deep kiss.
He soon falls down beside you and soon rolls over onto his back, his chest rising and falling from the excursion.
You curl into his side, watching his side profile so intently. You had just fucked Joel Miller.
And it was everything you had dreamed of. Extreme happiness doesn't even begin to describe your feelings right now.
There's a long stretch of silence that drapes over the both of you. Eventually, Joel breaks it with something extremely off topic.
"Last night...you didn't just come here to say 'hi', did you?"
You're momentarily speechless, not expecting that question from him at all. But you can't stop a giggle from coming through your lips.
"Actually, I came to confront you." Your voice is soft as you begin speaking, thinking back to last night's ordeal.
Joel doesn't expect this answer, his head turns to look at you while you speak. His arm comes down to drape over your shoulder.
"I was really upset cus you rejected me n'all. I just couldn't accept the whole, 'age gap' excuse. I wanted to know if you just really didn't like me or not." You're murmuring, drawing soft lines with your finger on the skin of Joel's chest.
He huffs out a breath at the explanation, shaking his head. "Guess you got your answer, huh." He grumbles out, somewhat ashamed of himself that he couldn't hold back.
You smile and lean up to kiss his cheek. "I did," you chirp happily, admiring his face again. "You know you're gonna have to fuck me, like, everyday now, right?"
You're kidding. But you're also not at all.
Joel scoffs and sits up, moving to pick up both his and your shirts. "Fat chance. Barely had enough stamina for one round." He grunts out, finding the neck hole in your tank top and putting it over your head for you.
You don't bother to pull it down over your breasts so Joel does it for you.
"It's okay, we can build up your tolerance over time." You quip with a teasing smile, loving the way Joel turned to glare a you.
He couldn't believe the youth these days.
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mattybsgroupie ¡ 2 days ago
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milf | chris sturniolo
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contents: handjob (m receiving); p in v; mommy kink; corruption kink; milf!reader; virgin!chris; sub!chris
♡⊹𑄽୧
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ notes: i was so, so excited for this one. and i'm so happy for all the support on my silly ideas. this is the whole story of this blurb but it's just a taste, because i want to do a series about them. i wanna write about the first time they ever saw each other, how did chris confess to her, the time she came back to her husband, everything. there's so much to explore about these two and i hope you guys enjoy this just as much as i did. i love yall so much ♡ btw this is so long and not proofread please don’t hate me
♡⊹𑄽୧
it was a silent, cold afternoon at home. your daughter was away, traveling with her father — your ex-husband — and you were enjoying some much needed alone time. the sun was setting and the wind blew through the windows as you adjusted yourself on the couch and took a sip of the coffee you were holding in your left hand.
you heard three knocks from the back door, letting out a deep sigh from the back of your throat. you got up to stretch your tired bones and walked in slow steps towards the kitchen, opening the door. it was chris.
christopher sturniolo, one of your daughter’s best friends. he was energetic, funny, educated and extremely attractive for his age. the type of guy you’d want for your daughter — the gentle, sweet kid, who was surprisingly smart and was definitely going to be a great husband.
however at this moment, chris looked tired. his eyebags were darker and his usual easy smile wasn’t here. he seemed… exhausted.
“hi, dear” you said in your gentle, yet sensual tone, which always caught chris off guard. there was something about your voice that soothe him at the same time it got him worked up, the conflicting feelings taking over his chest.
“uhm, hey” chris said, scratching the back of his head. you noticed how his fingers tangled on his own hair — chris was tense. the other hand was hidden inside his pocket, his bruised lips looking even prettier under the sunset.
you smiled gently, thinking your daughter could’ve forgotten to tell him she’d be absent “she’s not here today, honey”.
“i know” chris answered abruptly, his gaze floating from your chest to his own shoes. “c-can i come in?”. with a simple nod, you entered the house, waiting for chris to join. he closed the back door and made his way to the kitchen, quietly following you around.
“i haven’t cooked since it’s just me” you said, noticing how his blue eyes scanned the empty table.
“oh” chris hadn’t realized you paid just as much attention to him as he did to you. “y-you don’t have to” he said. you raised an eyebrow and placed both of your hands on your hips, a classic mom pose. “i just like your food, that’s all” he looked away as you chuckled.
“aw, baby!” you cooed, genuinely happy with his confession as you opened your arms, offering him a warm, tender hug. “fuck, don’t call me that” chris mumbled under his breath as you approached him. you clicked your tongue in disapproval, silently calling him out. you were the older one and he needed to show some respect.
that’s when you noticed it. chris had failed to cover his pathetic boner, standing there, hard, in front of you.
you dragged your feet towards chris in slow, rhythmic steps, the sound of your heels clacking against the floor taking over the empty house. with a grin, you placed your hand on his tummy, chuckling at the contrast of your red nails and his baby blue hoodie. 
“chris, what’s this?” you say as if you’re surprised, gradually lowering your hand to his pants, gently palming his hardened cock. “you’re a naughty, naught boy” chris whined, throwing his head back as he finally felt your hand around him. 
this had happened a few times — a couple more than it should. chris was just so, so needy. your maternal instinct could always tell when he needed a hug or some encouragement, and you always gave it to him. until the hugs got tighter and the words turned to whispers, the handshakes turned to interlocking fingers and the quick gazes became lingering stares. one day, you don’t exactly recall how, chris ended up sitting on your lap, which led to your first kiss and chris inevitably cumming untouched inside his jeans.
“i just— ‘m s-sorry” he gasped when you finally got a proper grip of his cock, stroking him over his sweaters. 
“i don’t think you are” you teased, pulling his waistband and wrapping your knuckles around chris’s dick, which was covered in pre-cum. his cock twitched inside your fist when you placed a kiss on his neck, as if it was the first time he had ever been touched. “hm? what is it baby?”
“mommy” he breathed out without even thinking. his eyes were closed and his forehead was glued to your shoulder, his pathetic moans filling slipping from his bruised lips. “‘m gonna cum!”
“is that why you came here, chris? you wanted mommy to take care of you?” you cooed, biting his bare skin. with one last stroke and a shaky breath, chris came all over your fingers. the thick, sticky liquid covered your hand and dripped down his legs, staining his grey sweatpants. you brought your hand to your lips, licking all of his release.
you chuckled at him and chris quickly wrapped his arms around your waist, trying to get closer to you. chris hid his face on the crook of your neck, sniffing your scent. “i missed you” he mumbled. “missed you s’much”
your hands went to the back of chris’s head, gently caressing his brown locks. “did you, sweetheart?” you cooed, squeezing his shoulder, silently asking for him to look at you. you touched his chin and chris tilted his head, closing his eyes for the kiss he so long waited for. you pressed your lips together in a tender seal, smiling into the kiss.
“let’s get you clean up, shall we?” you said, noticing the cum stain on his pants. “i’ll wash this one for you” 
you said and he agreed, undressing right away. you smiled at his politeness and couldn't help but glance at him as he removed his sweatshirt, exposing his abdomen — chris noticed you staring at him and attempted to tease you “like what you see, mama?”
you rolled your eyes, reaching for his clothes. his half-pumped cock remained coated in cum leaking down his thigh, ending just before his knee. “go take a shower” you suggested — demanded, actually — tossing everything he had on into the washing machine “are you gonna sleep here, sweetheart?”
“i-i… can i?” chris hesitantly asked. “well, there's no one else around” you checked the living room, reassuring chris that neither your daughter nor your ex-husband would be back any time soon.
chris rushed upstairs and took a shower as you finished his laundry. you took that chance to take off your soaked panties, making yourself bare beneath your nightgown before heading to your bedroom.
stepping out of the shower, chris wrapped a towel around his waist and wiped the fogged-up mirror with his palm. his reflection stared back at himself, blue orbs with a mix of excitement and apprehension for sleeping with you for the first time. chris knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t help it. you were just perfect. too perfect.
he opened the door and slowly dragged his feet across the hallway, the soft sound of your movements in the bedroom guiding his steps. through the door gap, chris caught a glimpse of you seated at the edge of the bed, your fingers tracing patterns on the mattress.
“done already?” you asked, voice low and tender. chris nodded as he sat by your side and leaned his back down the bed, holding his weight with both elbows.
for a moment, the room was silent, the weight of your emotions hanging in the air. in a sudden rush of courage, you got closer to him, brushing your lips against his, taking it nice and slow.
chris immediately melted under your touch. his large hand went to the back of your head, softly pulling your hair as you moved to his lap, your curvy thighs practically hugging him.
he gasped with the sudden move, even though he had touched you and you had touched him — you never went all the way. chris was a virgin after all, and you had lost your innocence decades ago. you chuckled at him “it's okay, prince” you whispered, placing a kiss on his cheek. “we don't have to do anything you don't want to”
and that's why he loved you. you were so understanding, so compreensive and gave him the reassurance he needed “no! i w-want it!” chris said, a bit of desperation on his tone, the fear of losing you somehow taking over his already fuzzy mind.
“‘m jus scared i'm not... not gonna be good” he admitted, gaze flickering between your chest — right in front of him — and the ceiling. “g-gonna mess up” he mumbled, nuzzling his face against your breasts.
“that's totally okay” you smiled gently, ruffling his hair before playfully biting his neck, pulling his skin with ur teeth. “and besides, you already know how to make me feel good” you purred like a kitten on his ear, your long, red nails scratching a line down his torso.
“you're such a tease, mama” chris whispered back, placing his palms on your ass, pulling the silk nightgown upwards and revealing your bare flesh, making you moan as he groped your lower body.
with a light push, chris had fallen against the mattress. you crawled back to your previous spot, resting your back against the countless pillows that adorned the bed. chris quickly made his way to you — he was used to sitting on your lap — but you were smarter and, obviously, more experienced.
you stopped him by placing both palms against his chest. receiving a pout in response, your skilled fingers moved to the towel loosely wrapped around his hips, finally pulling the cloth and revealing his hardened cock.
you took a moment to admire the scene in front of you: chris, freshly showered, his hair dripping small droplets of water down his shoulders, his lips slightly parted, a string of saliva connecting both parts, his chest quickly rising and falling and his dick unashamedly leaking.
you had been wet from the moment he showed at your door. by now, your pussy was pratically begging for chris. you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him closer and sealing your lips on a desperate kiss. chris audibly gasped when he pressed his cock onto your pussy, the new feeling taking over him. he started to drag his swollen lenght against your open cunt, not really sure of what he was doing, but it felt so good.
“whenever you're ready, prince” you breathed out as you enjoyed the feeling of having your folds explored after so long. chris savored that for a bit longer before positioning himself and moving his hips forward.
nothing.
he tried again. it was his first time and it was okay to make mistakes — that's what you told him. chris snorted, a frustrated sigh coming from him. one last try.
nothing, again.
you tried so hard to keep your composure. poor little thing, chris had no idea of what was going on. “w-why is it so hard?” he complained, more to himself than to you. his failed attempts were making him restless and sweaty, “mama” chris called, displaying puppy eyes and the biggest pout. “i c-can't get in...”
he was gonna cry. he was so vulnerable and upset at the same time. you ran your fingers through his hair “hey, hey, look at me” you shushed him, cupping his cheeks. “didn't i tell this could happen, baby? there's no reason to embarassed”
“c'mere” you called, patting the spot next to you on the mattress. “what if mama goes on top, huh? wanna try it that way?” you asked chris with your usual gentle, warm tone. he nodded eagerly, tears beggining to form in the corners of his eyes.
you changed positions, chris had his back resting against the headboard as you sat on his lap. “can you be a big boy and do a big favor for mommy?” he nodded once again, gripping at your hips with both hands. “stay still, alright baby? gonna sit down on you” you warned as you placed your folds against his flushed tip, gradually lowering yourself on his shaft.
“fuck fuck fuck fuck” chris cried at the overwhelming sensation. “mama! s-shit!”
a soft sigh escaped your lips as you surrendered to the moment, relaxing with chris underneath you. “nhng, so big” you whined, adjusting yourself on his cock. you were used to that feeling, being filled up by a huge cock and having men at your feet. but this time was different. it felt so raw, so genuine, so real with chris.
chris threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. his moans got louder as you fastened your pace, soon bouncing on his dick. he was making no effort at all, being a pillow prince and simply letting you do whatever you wanted.
more than having his veins pumping inside you, the thought of being his first woman, of taking away his last bit of innocence, of completely corrupting him helped you get closer to the edge.
“mommy, i can't hold it! 'm gonna cum!” chris whined, panting heavily. “cum with me, my good boy” you gave him permission, but the praise was all he needed. chris trembled and jerked his body forward, the instensity of his orgasm being almost too much for him to handle.
his whimpers and uncoordinated movements ts along with the spurts of warm cum filling your insides made you reach your own climax, your juices mixed with chris's release oozing from your pussy and coating his cock.
“gonna pull out, okay?” you told him, preparing to remove yourself from his dick. “no!” chris prosteted. you furrowed your eyebrows, more curious than mad. “c-can i... can i stay inside? please? it took me so long to get in”, he confessed and you couldn't hold back anymore, a giggle escaping from your lips.
you might have taken his virginity, but deep down, chris would always be your little boy.
♡⊹𑄽୧
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xoxotiamathh ¡ 2 days ago
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Light Switch: Turn On(s) and Off(s)
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Note: NO MINORS. Hi angels! There's 3 topics here, one for your current partner, one for your FS and one for your Next Partner, you can choose both Piles one after the other. Paid Readings are open now! Only a few slots are open right now! Please like and Reblog if you like.
Current $ ! % • Next 1 2 3 • FS a b c
Masterlist • Paid Readings + FB • Tip Jar
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Current Partner
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Next Partner
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Future Spouse
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Current Boyfriend:
Pile $
Okay so, what turns them on is when you are out and about being free spirited, being social and coming out of your shell, they love seeing you interact with other people because they think there's just something so bright and confident in the way you handle your conversations with others that just lights a fire in them. They also enjoys slow, teasing touches when it just gets too unbearable to keep waiting and maybe also phone sex or like sexting thats the kind of person where, before you even get physical, the mind does most of its work. They are all about emotional intimacy that becomes physical. They want soulful sex which is not only about body parts, but more about a deep connection like slow build-ups of lingering kisses, soft touch of skin on skin, exploring each other like it's the first time, every time. Eye contact is a big deal they love when you're both lost in each other oofff hot!
Now for the turn-offs, if it's just the same old, same old if it feels too routine, they're out. Predictable sex doesn't do it for them. They need some edge, something spontaneous. Routine is not the only thing they dislike, they could also feel turned off when they feel like you’re trying to control or dominate them. Too much force or intense power struggles can turn them off. They need balance, not someone trying to overpower them in the bedroom. Gentle dominance might be their thing, but if you push them into something more extreme like bdsm or smn, they may get put off.
Pile !
Mmmm ok ok so they're into the mystery, the allure of the unknown, so what turns them on is literally not knowing, but not surprises just when you are being all mysterious, dam. Also doing things in public, like not public but the thrill of almost getting caught is something that gets them going like there's no tomorrow, a little deserted area in like idk a mall complex Ya that's what they like. They want the sex that feels secret like you both are doing something forbidden, hidden touches, something naughty, and those dark, emotional undercurrents that turn you both on. Maybe even a little roleplay, specifically idk why I'm seeing Jessica Rabbit, but they want you to actively seduce them, almost like, them pretending to be reluctant and wanting you to "coerce" them all like with former consent and conversations of course. They're also aroused by the build-up, long, drawn-out foreplay, teasing them till they're desperate for you. They like that gripping slowness with, slowly undressing, taking your time, also the kind of person who wants to edge you and make you beg for it and vice versa wanting you to make them wait until you both can't stand it anymore.
Okay so although the loves mystery, hidden agendas, playing games, or just suddenly going hot and cold? Nope. They are not into materialistic or transactional sex if you’re treating sex like a “trade” or trying to buy their affection, forget it. They wants genuine chemistry, raw passion, not an exchange. Like they don't like partners who are too materialistic or too into all that conspicuous consumption type thing, it really turns them off like crazy. They also don't like messy, and explosive energy. No awkwardness or emotional wreckage in bed, things need to flow and not fall apart.Like breakup or hate sex or like fighting, that can be like an aphrodisiac for some but for them its just so bleh, that they just want to distance themselves after any sort of conflict.
Pile %
Ok no one is surprised but they are most turnd off during the aftercare and like the time you have after sex when you both just cuddle each other and just lie there inside the afterglow, no rush. Feeling their skin on yours, sensual massage with whispers and lazy kisses before the both of you drift of slowly. Abother sapiosexual here y'all, wildly turned on by your mind flirty texts, dirty talk, and that playful mental foreplay that builds the sexual tension. Transformation in the bedroom, they;re not afraid of change and love exploring new dynamics, role-playing, or even kinky sex that pushes the boundaries of what you two have already explored. Maybe it's bondage, its probably the idea of a power shift. They would be very turned on at the idea of you submitting to them and again vice versa it goes both ways, but the former is definitely more appealing for them.
If you are performing, trying to fake it or be something you're not, they can tell, they need authenticity. If it feels like sex is a game or you're trying to impress them, it will be a major turn-off. No hesitation, they're not into slow, timid sex. They need you to be bold, confident, and willing to take charge. Uncertainty is not hot and they love someone who can be passionate, not someone constantly questioning or pulling back. This is random but they may not be big on like the sound stuff, like if theres a lot of sound during oral, they may get overwhelmed and stop feeling anything at all.
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Next Boyfriend:
Pile 1
They get turned on when you celebrate your own small wins, moments of being connected that feel really explosive. They want an experience where everything seems to flow perfectly, and you let go of your inhibitions together, becoming one with each other. A night that feels like an achievement, something worth bragging about. Whether it's after a long, hard day or a special event, he's into that sort of fiery passion that feels like an explosion of joy and lust. Honestly, ok, this may sound bad, but it's not, they just care a lot more about lust, like it gets them off. Okay so, mystery is a huge turn-on. They love the idea of hidden desires and those moments where both feel like you're caught up in a world of your own. Okay so they may also be into like heavy bondage both on them and on you, but more on them, they like giving up control it turns them on. Loves a good slow burn, really enjoys holding out with foreplay, teasing each other just enough so you both are desperate to get at it. Imagine hours of touching, kissing, and discovering, making the final release so much more satisfying. They're a big fan of making things last, giving every moment the attention it deserves, stretching the anticipation to its absolute limit soooo edging and then maybe overstimulation after is something they may be into.
They're not into overly sentimentalized or romanticized sex. When things feel too sweet, or it's more about an emotional connection, they may check out. They needs wild, raw, intense sex that has a lot of passion and lust and not as much love im sorry guys T_T. They aren't about "love-making" where everything has to be about deep emotional bonding and soft, slow moments they're about passion, and they don't need the emotional connection on all levels with someone during sex, just something primal is what they need. They are also turned off by any pressure or expectations in the bedroom. Sex needs to be fun, effortless, and full of pleasure. If it starts to feel like a chore or you’re both putting in too much effort to keep things interesting, he’ll lose interest. No obligatory sex either they want it to feel like its just another thing in their day, like if either of you invest "too much" they're out, god this screamsss commitment issues im T_T.
Pile 2
They are turned on by confidence, not only in the way you look but also in the way you carry yourself. They love it when you feel comfortable in your own body, and confident in your own sexual power. There's something extremely sexy about a person who knows what they want and isn't afraid to take it. If you can walk into a room with that seductive energy, they're already thinking of a hundred ways they want you that night iykwim. They exude like pureee fire energy and love when you bring that bold, fearless attitude to the bedroom. They want you to be playful, yet sensual, taking charge without hesitation. Don't be shy to show them your naughty side, talk dirty to them and dominant positions like cowgirl or reverse cowgirl will definitely turn them on too, just wanting you on top. I'll leave you with three words: Impulsive, Submissive (them) and Animalistic thats it, go crazy go wild.
Okay so they're not much into when you are too nurturing in bed, it may make them feel smothered and turn them off like showing that maternal or nurturing energy at the wrong time, you can make them feel crushed. It's all about going crazy stupid etc and nothing about responsibility. If you are too comfortable, too much in a settled routine, then it doesn't turn him on. They want that newness, that spark that makes everything feel fresh and exciting. Sex should feel like a rush, not something that's guaranteed or too planned out. They are not that interested in domination or dominating. If you play the dominant role with aggression or try to twist roles in a way that feels like they're being overpowered, he will love that. Sometimes tho they want to not have that dynamic and be equal in bed, he likes to believe the two of you can come out of sex feeling balanced.
Pile 3
OOO love this, they get turned on by deep connections that go beyond just physical attraction. They want to feel like there's an emotional bond between you both that translates into passion in the bedroom, the kind of sex that feels like a soul connection where both of you are craving each other so intensely that it's not just sex but it's like you're becoming one. They like it when everything just flows into place, and you just melt into each other grrr this is so hot gn gn gn. They're into that feeling of indulgence during sex too where it feels like you're in touch with the richness of everything, every touch feels so warm and electric and rewarding. They also love when you take your time and you both savour each moment. Like sensual massages, lingering kisses, and a slow buildup that's more about physical gratification than a quick rush to the finish. Guys this person is so ughhhh i want them lmao THIS IS THE I WANT THEM PILE anyway let me continue They want to feel fully surrendered when it comes to you, they're turned on by that level of attraction, the kind where you both want each other so badly that there's no denying the chemistry. There's a dangerous energy here because the lovers popped into my head like you both can't control yourselves, and that unpredictability turns them on.
Okay simple person does not like or want mental games or anything that makes them feel trapped in their head. Any feeling of hesitation and confusion in the mind can immediately take them out of the mood. They need freedom and he is turned off by imbalance. They are going to tune out if it feels like you are only there to please them or if you are not on the same level of pleasure. They want to feel that it's a give-and-take kind of thing, where both of you are on the same level in making each other feel amazing. If you give more than you receive, or vice versa, that is going to sit badly with them. They likes mutual satisfaction where both parties are on the same level of fun. They also don't fw emotional baggage. They will quickly shut down if you bring in past hurt or if you're emotionally unavailable. They turn off anything with lingering sadness or emotional blockages during sex. They are looking for a partner who can put the past aside and live in the moment. If you're not ready to enjoy the moment with them, or if you bring any past relationship drama into the mix, it will kill the mood.
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Future Spouse:
Pile a
Oh law conflict turns them on so much whether it's after a fight or just the two of you taking the frustration out after a busy day, they love the rawness that comes from the negative feelings and love channelling that sexually because they may find it difficult to like express themselves in another way. They will be v v turned on by your depth and empathic nature and loves when people open up to them on an emotional level, which opens up a space for deep connection before the physical part comes in. They will be seduced by your nurturing, sensual touch, where you guide them through a moment of emotional vulnerability. Moreover, a connection where sex feels like an expression of love, trust, and emotional fulfilment too, also the kind that thrives on that initial spark of chemistry, there is something about the physical contact that turns him on and they love when the passion between you two feels explosive. If you take the lead with passionate kisses, touching, and mood setting, they will definitely feel the heat building up. Love when others take control, kinda pillow princess-y
They're turned off by stagnation. If you Alright now onto the turn-offs, one of the main turn offs could be when you leave them hanging, or make them wait too long for something, this is in general not you specifically but they are just someone who is very impatient and do not appreciate stagnation and things not moving at their pace. They may also get turned off if someone is a bit of a show off and they will also not like being physically overpowered like it could turn them off because they may be the one who would want to show that aspect off, being strong may be very important to them and if someone can physically overpower them they may just no longer be interested. Furthermore, if someone is to secretive or tries to play too hard to get, they will just stop trying, they are not someone who’s into “the chase” because they grow tired and they believe they are a grown adult not wanting to act juvenile. two get into a pattern or there is too much waiting, too much space, or sex becomes automatic, he'll lose interest. He does not want to feel that he waits for something to happen or that you are withholding or disengaged. Maintain the fluidity of energy: spontaneous and constantly in movement. He needs to feel like there's always something new to discover, or else the passion dies down.
Pile b
They are completely turned on by your sensuality, not just your physical appearance, but how you exude a divine, like soft energy. Whether it's your confidence, the way you move, or the way you connect with them emotionally, they are attracted to the sense that they're with someone who feels at ease in their own skin and radiates warmth, care, and affection. Ykw what turns them on? someone they think they can grow old with. This is someone who likes to celebrate wins with their partner through sex and lovemaking and, body worship like them to their partner or well you is a big big big turn on for them. If you provide for them a space that they feel is secure, they will express passion. This person enjoys having someone who is seriously devoted to making them feel desirable and cared for too.
Alright so, they hate the classics LMAO sorry, the first thing that popped up in my head was NO MISSIONARY like... ok moving on, what turns them off is that they cannot stand inactivity like their libido is high, and they need someone to match their freak like that, it's like where they want to pounce like... almost constantly lmao so if there's like a libido discrepancy it may be a turn-off. They don't want any drama or combat in the bedroom. If any kind of verbal or emotional manipulation is going on or if sex is being used as some kind of way to "win" something over them, its over, they are not into games either, they want connection and vulnerability.
Pile c
Freaky ahh pile SORRY ok moving on, they are giving v v taurus and venus energy with the way their biggest turn-on is having all the senses pleasured and catered to, they love luxury. Like candles, silk sheets, gentle lighting and anything that appeals to the senses and brings pleasure to the body will definitely turn him on. They also like a slow burn, where you both take your time with foreplay and focus on each other's physical enjoyment before diving in. There's an indulgence to this, creating an atmosphere that's rich in sensation will heighten the connection. Whether it’s giving them a sensual massage, taking your time with every kiss, or getting lost in each other’s bodies, this will drive them wild.
They're turned off by someone who's not emotionally present or who holds back. If you're not fully engaged or if you're stuck in the past, emotionally distant, or emotionally unavailable, it's going to drain the sexual energy between you. They are not into emotional baggage that makes you withdraw from the connection. They crave reassurance and closeness, so if sex feels cold or disconnected, it's going to disrupt the passion. They are also repelled by drama, betrayal, or anything that seems like it is the sharp end to a situation. If sex is being used to avoid conflict, they will back off, and they don't want sex to feel like an escape from pain or hardship. They are also turned off by a lack of choice, like if they feel like someone picked them because its like a last resort rather than being picked from a bunch of people like a choice, it turns them off big time.
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DO NOT PLAGIARISE, REWORD, REPHRASE, REPOST MY CONTENT ALL RIGHTS RESERVED xoxotiamathhŠŽ
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wisecura ¡ 2 days ago
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Sweeter (NSFW)
SatoSugu x f!Reader p.2 - 4k (all for the fuckin' smut)
summary: THE PWP FOR: entering high school only to be met with the two hottest strongest sorcerers of your generation was not something you were prepared for. so, what happens when they take a strange liking to their cute, sheltered underclassman?
an: man I'm getting some good practice for writing smut. I hope it's as coherent as my tired brain thought it was. loosely proofread, so please enjoy-
MINORS DNI AFTER HERE
warnings: do not read if you are sensitive to dubcon, or any kind of dark fic topics, small age gap (not even mentioned, they're past high school), arranged marriage, poly relationship, possessive undertones, manipulative undertones, manipulative, some gaslighting, Dom-Suguru, pussydrunk, creampie cleanup, breeding kink, virgin reader that somehow knows how to deepthroat a large cock (with minimal instructions-first try!), if they sound mean-i'm sorry, immature (sheltered) reader,
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The wedding was straight out of a fairytale, bathed in the rich, traditional colors that only added to the day’s dreamlike quality.
There he was—Satoru, the man you were about to call your husband.
Each time you glanced at him, dressed sharply, standing poised and perfect, it took your breath away. Marrying the most sought-after bachelor around, a man wrapped in prestige, wealth, and unmatched power and strength, felt crazy. The only word to describe it was surreal. 
Satoru gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as they announced your union. The kiss–though he'd kissed you plenty of times before, was now on the lips. A little deeper, holding the back of your head, keeping you close, preventing you from pulling away too quickly, leaving you breathless.  
During the reception, amidst the laughter and clinking glasses, you caught snippets of conversation from Satoru’s relatives, their voices low, gazing at you with a gleam in their eyes. One topic staying constant on their tongues: producing an heir.
It was a layer of expectation that loomed large, suddenly making your new reality even more daunting than you had anticipated.
As the night drew to a close and the estate began to quiet down, the weight of what was expected in your marriage truly settled in. Would Satoru really expect... that... so soon?
The thought of... consummation, when you hadn't even been dating, churned in your stomach as you hesitantly approached his, now your bedroom door. All your belongings were already here, making this vast place your new home, but this final step—something you felt completely unprepared for—loomed large.
With a shaky breath, you knocked gently on the door. The sound echoed slightly in the still hallway, perfectly in tune with the rapid beating of your heart. When the door finally swung open, Satoru loomed above you, his silhouette framed by the soft light spilling from the room, haloing him in an almost ethereal glow.
"You came," he remarked, a hint of surprise coloring his voice as if he hadn't fully expected you to follow through. You stood awkwardly a the door, feeling a little shy. Where you not supposed to-
"Come on," his hand reaching out to grasp your arm, pulling you into the room with a gentle tug that caused you to stumble slightly. As you regained your balance, your eyes quickly scanned the room.
It was strikingly sterile, devoid of personal touches, which made it feel less like a bedroom and more like an impersonal guest room. You assumed your belongings had already been neatly stored away in the closet. However, what really caught your attention wasn’t the room’s lack of personality but rather what—or rather, who—was on the large king-sized bed.
Suguru was there, lounging casually as if his presence in this intimate setting was the most natural thing in the world, the sight throwing you off.
"S-Suguru?" Your voice wavered, tinged with disbelief. He hadn't been at the wedding celebrations, and it had been months since you'd last seen him. Overcome with a mix of surprise and relief, you quickly crossed the room and threw yourself onto his lap, wrapping him in a tight hug.
"Even I didn't get this reaction," Satoru muttered from behind you, his tone a mix of amusement and mock offense.
Suguru's response was a deep, resonant chuckle that vibrated through his chest, warming you with its familiarity. The position was intimate, but you'd sat on their laps plenty of times before.
Obviously nothing would happen tonight if he was here. 
"It's been a while, pretty girl," Suguru murmured, his hand gently caressing your face and tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You leaned into his touch, realizing just how much you had missed his presence.
"Heard you got married while I was gone," his voice low and teasing.
You laughed, the sound muffled against his chest as you nuzzled closer, reveling in the comfort his presence provided. The familiarity of his scent and the steady beat of his heart soothing your nerves. 
"Ok, now I'm starting to get jealous," Satoru's voice came from behind you. You heard his footsteps as he approached, and you felt the bed give way under his weight, his body pressed against your back, effectively sandwiching you between the two of them.
Suguru's hand reached over your shoulder, affectionately patting Satoru on the head.
"Now why would you be jealous? She's your wife," Suguru teased, his voice light but carrying a note that stirred a chill down your spine. You were still not quite accustomed to being called someone's wife.
"And here you are, all cuddled up next to her," Satoru huffed, his tone playful yet pointed.
"You promised we'd share, Satoru. Don't get greedy now," he added, reminding Satoru of some unspoken agreement that seemed to include you in their plans. You felt nervous as you let outa small breath.
"Promised you'd share?" The words slipped out, small, tinged with disbelief as you craned your neck to look up at Suguru. Almost instantly, you felt Satoru's presence push behind you. His body pressed closer, his breath warm on your neck, and his arms cinched tighter around your waist—a clear sign he didn't appreciate being ignored–even for a moment.
"Of course, sweet girl. We couldn’t possibly let you end up with just anyone," Suguru replied, his tone casual but obviously carrying an coolness that had you momentarily stunned.
"But what do you mean by 'share'?" The question hung awkwardly in the air, your brain not fully wrapping around his meaning. 
Suguru's response was matter-of-fact. "Well, technically, you can only marry one of us, right?"
Before you could digest this, Satoru piped up from behind, his voice laced with a mix of jest and arrogance, "And I’m the heir to the Gojo family, so obviously I’m the better choice."
This boast earned him a scathing look from Suguru, who, despite the tension, continued to stroke your head in a seemingly soothing manner. Yet, the gesture now felt more like a claim being staked, adding to the surreal-ness of the situation. 
"You've always been part of us, yeah? Every moment we've spent together built towards this. It's natural for us to be together. All ours."
Your mind reeled, struggling to piece together the implications of his words. "I... but I thought we were just friends. What do you mean I've always been yours?"
Satoru's breath was warm against your ear. "Think about it. Who's always been there for you? Who have you spent all your time with? It's always been us, hasn't it? It's not just friendship. It's more than that, and deep down, you know it," he whispered, each word designed to reshape your understanding of the past few years you shared together. Willing you to understand.
"But... How? A marriage is supposed to be between two people–a man and a woman–not... not this," you protested weakly, trying to grasp the reality they presented against everything you thought you knew–everything your clan has taught you.
Suguru laughed softly, a sound that used to comfort you but now seemed to carry a darker undertone. "Who says it has to be just two people?–man, woman, same difference. What we have? It's special, unique. We don't need to follow society's rules. We make our own rules because we're meant to be together. All of us."
Satoru nodded, adding, "Exactly. Why limit ourselves? You're ours, and we're yours. We've shared everything, haven't we? Our food, our time, our secrets. Sharing our lives through marriage is just the next step."
Your face flushed red, a mix of confusion and realization washing over you. "I... I do love you both," you admitted, your voice trembling. "You are the most important people in my life. I can't imagine being without you." Despite the situation, your heart knew these feelings were genuine. You've obviously never confessed, and this just felt so new. So nerve wracking.
Suguru's expression softened, his earlier laughter fading into a more sincere, tender smile. "And we love you, too. More than you can imagine," he assured you, hands collecting your hair together. "We've never planned to let you go, not now, not ever."
As Satoru buried his face deeper into your neck, you felt the warmth of his breath and the gentle kisses he planted along your skin. Each kiss was soft, almost reverent, as he murmured right into your ear, “No matter what happens, even if you wanted to leave, we wouldn’t let you. You're part of us, and that’s how it’s going to stay. We’re in this together, forever.”
His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, making your heart swell with happiness. It felt right, being here with them, more right than anything else ever had. They were no longer just dreams or fantasies—they were real, tangible–and  you finally saw them for what they were. 
Yours. 
Suguru’s hands joined Satoru’s at your waist, tightening his hold just as his gaze pierced into yours. His question was direct, catching you by surprise. "Have you been with anyone before?" His eyes seemed to search for any hint of deceit in your response.
You shook your head, knowing exactly what he meant, your cheeks warming with embarrassment. "No, I’ve.... never been with anyone. I don’t even really know how all this is supposed to work," you admitted, feeling your heart race under his intense attention.
Sensing your nervousness, Suguru suddenly took charge, his voice firm as he instructed Satoru to give you some space. "Scoot back a bit, let's not crowd her," he said, a playful note creeping in his voice.  Satoru moved back reluctantly, mumbling a mix of playful huffs and complaints. “She’s my wife,”
"It'll start with kissing," Suguru ignores him, instead focusing his attention on you. "Already done that," you chimed in quickly, remembering the kisses shared with Satoru, the one from the alter-really only wanting to be helpful.
You didn't expect Suguru’s poutily looking away. A hint of annoyance flickering across his face. Sure, he expected the two of you to already kiss when you were married but…. "Satoru’s already kissed you…." he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
Curious, you asked, "What’s wrong?" Satoru couldn't help but chime in with a grin, "Suguru’s jus’ jealous." Your face turned a deeper shade of red at the tease, but before you could respond, Suguru pulled you into him, his lips meeting yours in a deep, all-consuming kiss. It was intense and filled with an urgency that seemed to be fueled by Satoru’s taunting.
His hands trial down your body, squeezing and pulling you closer, exploring you completely. You're sat in his lap, as he forces your hips to grind into his, an obvious bulge pressing against you, his eyes damn near black–blown out, watching you closely as you break for air.
Looking down, his palms massage your thighs, hitching your nightgown up higher, fingers finally reaching your covered slit as you let out a small whimper from the contact. 
You felt all eyes on you, and couldn't help the nerves that coiled in your stomach–even now with you splayed across his lap on display, hungry eyes watching you–you still felt embarrassed. You heard shuffling from behind you, turning your head to meet Satoru-but before you could, Suguru’s hands grabbed your chin to face him. 
“Eyes on me, Doll.” The breathy puff of air you let out was all instinctual–the way he so easily commanded your attention with his pet names. And the tremble in your rolling hips forced his eyes back down, trailing his hand across your chest, your stomach, and finally down to the soaked fabric. “Satoru, I think your wife likes me more.” 
Your hands grip onto the fabric of his shirt, and you so desperately want to look back when you hear the slick sounds from behind you, Satoru’s annoyed sulky puff at Suguru’s comment sounding out around the loud, wet slaps. 
“hah–gimme a minute with her, and let's see who’s talkin’–” But once again Suguru ignores him, his fingers teetering the border of your panties, obviously distracted, before finally sliding a finger along your drenched folds. He lets out a soft chuckle, burying himself in deeper, a sickening squelch reverberating the room, now matching the pace of the sound behind you. So filthy, and you really didn't know any better-
You can't help the low moan you let out, or the way your nails dig into his shoulders, hips bucking into his thick fingers, seeking a release you didn't expect. And just as sudden, he withdrawals his fingers, bringing them up to your face, as if he were scolding you. 
“Look at how filthy you are.” he coos out, voice husky. “So cute.” You’re beet red. 
"Please, tell me you’re gonna let me have a taste.” Satoru's voice sounds out behind you, begging, more desperate than you've ever heard from him before. “C’mon Suguru, please.”
You could hear the rasp in his words, laced with heavy desire, as you watched Suguru shocked, no- stunned at the request. You couldn't see his face, but the audible fapping noises behind you were enough to give you a picture. 
“What do you think, doll? Should we let him taste?” His voice dripping in amusement, as you shake your head, mouth agape, “t-that’s nasty, Sugur–” before you could finish your protest, Suguru leans over you, pulling Satoru in by his neck, pushing you down on the bed in the process.
Now hovering above you, slotted between your legs–his hardened length firmly pressed against your center. You finally have a clear image of them both, as you see his fingers being shoved into Satoru’s mouth, grip choking him, and the lewd image of his fingers fucking into his mouth would stay ingrained into your mind for weeks after–you've never seen him so rough before.
And what shocked you moreso was when Satoru practically moaned at the contact of your taste on his tongue, lolling out, leaning into his aggressive hold as if it were the most natural thing ever. He greedily laps Suguru's fingers, fingers gripping Suguru’s wrist close, eyes rolling back, a sinful expression gracing his face.
You have a clear view of just what Satoru was up to behind your back, his massive hand actively stroking his girthy cock, now inches from your face. You can't keep your eyes off of it as you study it religiously. You've never seen one before. Was that thing supposed to….fit inside you? ]
Suguru chuckled lowly at your reactions, gaze locked onto you before pulling his fingers from Satoru’s mouth, releasing his hold on his neck. 
“He’s such a nasty boy, don't you think? Getting all hard from his wife being felt up like that.” Your eyes find Suguru’s again as he watches you closely. You can't respond-and how were you supposed to with two very large, very big men standing over you?
“You nervous?” you nod before you could stop yourself. Without hesitating, he pushes himself into you, spurring a small whimper from you, “It’s okay baby. We’ll take good care of you.” His fingers find your clit through your panties, as he continues grinding into you, each touch bringing you closer and closer to the edge, mind going fuzzy as you watch Satoru stroking himself. 
His eyes meet yours, glazing over, pupils matching Suguru’s, and they both sense your impending orgasm growing with every passing second, your body responding to Suguru’s touch despite your initial hesitation. "You're so wet already, doll," he murmurs, his breath hot against your neck. “Feels so tight ‘n warm.” 
Satoru chuckles, licking his lips as he watches Suguru's movements, leaning down to hover over your face, “Wanna taste?” And before you could answer, he’s leaning into a deep kiss, tongue slipping past your lips, and you can taste your own slick on him.
Breaking away, his fingers make their way to your mouth, eyes watching you, burning you. He moves his thumb away from your mouth, replacing it with the tip of his cock instead, tracing your lips with it. "Open up."
You feel a shiver run down your spine as you hesitantly part your lips, allowing Satoru to slide his cock inside. Your eyes widen as you taste him for the first time, a salty white thickness coating your tongue. Suguru takes this opportunity to slide a finger inside you once again, curling it just right to hit that spot. 
You moan involuntarily, your hips bucking against his hand, allowing Satoru's cock in deeper, almost choking on it. Satoru smirks, his hands moving to grip your head, guiding your movements. He loves the way you look with his cock in your mouth, so innocent yet so sinful. He thrusts deeper, his hips rocking against your face, as you continue slurping on his thick cock. “Eh eh, no teeth baby, hollow out that mouth, jus like that, goooood girl–”
“Cmon now Satoru, she can't breathe.” Suguru reprimands lightly, your head going dizzy at the lack of oxygen. 
“You sure you're a virgin?” Satoru moaned out, “sure doesn't seem like it.” 
“Easy now, Satoru, don't make me tie you down.” You barely catch the words, Satoru filling your mouth as drool pooled around the edges. You’d complain, but the moans coming from Satoru were godly, and the feel of Suguru grinding into your clothed cunt had easily clouded your thoughts.  
“So good fer me,” Satoru praises, pulling his cock from your mouth, leaving behind a trail of saliva. They both are mesmerized at how your body takes them both so well, each stimulation eliciting such a vulgar reaction from you. You already looked fucked out and they haven’t even started. 
Suguru pulls your panties down now, fixated on your weeping bare cunt, drawing satorus attention. “Sucha pretty little hole.” His fingers trail the edges, before dipping inside, and you moan at the intrusion.
“Let's keep this mouth busy, yeah?” and before you know it, Satoru’s cock is back on your tongue, thrusting in deep, as you gag. The sight of your pretty mouth struggling to accommodate him only spurs him on, and you do your best to relax your jaw–only hoping that you were doing it right. 
Suguru's eyes flicker with a primal hunger as he watches you struggle to adjust to Satoru's cock. He withdraws his fingers from you slowly, leaving you aching and empty for just a moment before he replaces them with something much larger.
You feel his cock press against your entrance, causing your eyes to widen, not sure he’d be able to even fit there. Satoru chuckles at your reaction, gripping your head firmer as he thrusts deeper into your mouth. Suguru leans down, his lips grazing your ear. "Relax," he whispers soothingly. "It'll be easier if you just relax, baby."
You nod, trying to settle down, trusting him completely, he slowly pushes himself inside you, his thick length stretching you wide open. You whimper around Satoru's cock as Suguru fills you up, pleasure and pain melding together in a heady mix, the stretch almost unbearable.
Satoru groans at the feel of your throats vibrations, as Suguru gives you a moment to adjust before he starts moving, his hips rocking into yours in a slow, steady rhythm. Satoru matches his pace, thrusting in sync with Suguru. You feel completely filled, sandwiched between them both. They take turns praising you, their voices muffled by their own pleasure-filled moans.
"Fuck, you feel incredible."  Suguru's husky voice echoes through your mind as he picks up the pace, thrusting deeper inside your sloppy pussy. "Such a good girl, taking both of us so well." Satoru adds, his breathing labored as he watches Suguru claim you, eagerly awaiting his turn.
Their movements become more erratic as they lose themselves in their lust, their hands roaming over your body possessively. 
Suguru's thumb circles your clit faster, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you, as Satoru thrusts harder into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat with each movement. You moan around him again, the vibrations sending shockwaves through him, causing his hips to stutter. They continue to worship your body, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. “Should I cum in this pussy?” Suguru says, staring down at you through hooded eyes.
His words send a bolt of pleasure straight to your pussy, your walls contracting around him involuntarily. His grip on your hips tightens, his thrusts becoming rougher as he groans, "Fuck yes, I'm going to cum inside you, this pussy will be dripping, ‘m gonna give you so much." His eyes bore into yours, filled with a possessive hunger that makes you squirm. Satoru groans at the sight, his cock pulsing against your tongue.
Satoru pulls out of your mouth momentarily to trail wet kisses down your neck, leaving your mouth open for you to sputter out a string of curses and moans. He circles your nipple with his tongue, making you arch into him as Suguru continues to fuck you mercilessly. “Fuck, she's so responsive.” His own climax building at the sight of your impending orgasm. 
Suguru grunts in approval at your response, his hips driving harder into yours, his cock stretching you deliciously. You can hear the offensive wet sounds of their movements filling the room, making your core clench even more around Suguru's length. "you're so goddamn tight,"
Suguru curses, his control slipping. Satoru's lips leave your nipple to trail kisses along your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin. "You're going to cum for us, aren't you, sweetheart?" He asks huskily, his hand wandering down to grip your thigh, holding it aside so he could see better. 
"Mhmph," you moan, nodding vigorously, your body trembling under the dual assault. Suguru grunts, his pace relentless as he feels your pussy begin to spasm around him. "That's it, take it all, you're doing so well," Satoru praises, his voice rough, strained with arousal. Suguru's movements become erratic as he chases his own climax, his thrusts becoming rougher, deeper, more primal.
"Fuckfuck–yes, cum on this dick,” He curses as his orgasm hits, his cock pulsing inside you as he releases hot streams of cum. Your walls tighten around him, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave, making you buck wildly against him.
Suguru growls as he feels you clamp around him, cursing as he sinks his fingers into you tighter. Satoru watches intently, his hand gripping the base of his cock tightly to prevent himself from cumming too soon. Suguru's movements slow, but he doesn’t pull out, letting his cum fill you as he catches his breath. "Holy shit. You were holdin' out on us." 
Suguru presses soft kisses against your neck while he waits for you to come down from your high. Suguru withdraws from you slowly, his cum trickling down onto the king bed below you. Before you can catch your breath, Satoru takes his place, his cock pressing against your sensitive entrance. "My turn now," and before you can protest, he thrusts in deep as Suguru leans in to capture your pathetic whimpers with a filthy kiss.
Satoru's fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts deeper into you–the stretch so familiar but so different, his movements calculated to drive you wild. "So wet,so sososo so good," he groans, his pace increasing steadily. He loves the feeling of you around him, the way your walls clench with each stroke, recovering from your orgasm-pulsating just right-so hotsohotsohot, Suguru’s cum working as a lube for your poor abused hole–no doubt overstimulated. Suguru watches from the side, stroking himself lazily as he watches Satoru claim you, his own lust rekindled. They both lose themselves in the moment, completely consumed by their desire for you. 
"You're going to take every drop," Satoru grunts, his own orgasm building. Your eyes roll back as you feel your climax approaching at a scary speed, your body begging for release as he hits all the right spots.
When you finally cum, your pussy milks him greedily, pulling out every last drop of cum. They both groan in pleasure, the sight of you too good to pass up, as Satoru pulls out, he chuckles at your spent form, the sight of his cum dripping from you making him hard again already. Collapsing on the bed next to you, spent and satisfied.
He reaches out to trace patterns over your sensitive folds, playing with the mess they've made together, slick pooling at his fingertips. "Look at what a good little slut you are, stuffed by two men's seeds," he teases, leaning in to press a tender kiss against your thigh before looking over at Suguru with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You think she can handle us both filling her up?"
Suguru looks over at you with a hungry gaze, he runs a hand through his dark hair, eyes trailing down to where their cum pools between your legs. "We'll have to see," he says, a wicked smile playing on his lips. He moves closer, positioning himself beside Satoru so that they're both looming over you, staring down at your spent form. "But first, Be a good boy, Satoru, and clean her up." 
His hand on the back of his head, but you don't think he needed much convincing. Satoru leans forward without hesitation, his tongue licking up the mixture of their cum from your inner thighs- drawing patterns, his movements slow and deliberate, savoring the taste of both of their essences mixed with your sweetness. You whimper at the sensation, your body still sensitive and now overstimulated.
Suguru watches, his hand gripping Satoru's hair tightly, his own cock stirring again at the sight of Satoru’s tongue dipping into your pussy, tonguing the white mixture, with a nasty blissed out expression.
"Spread wider for him, doll," he instructs, his voice husky with desire. You obey automatically despite you craving the need to shut them tightly, your legs trembling as Satoru's tongue delves deeper, arms pinning your bucking hips down to the bed. 
You moan out loudly, your body writhing beneath him, as Satoru licks and sucks at your swollen clit, relishing in your responsiveness, swallowing down every drop that your pussy gave him.
Suguru reaches over him to fondle your breasts, pinching your nipples gently as he watches Satoru work his magic on your sensitive nerves. "Such a good girl," he praises, his free hand stroking his hardening cock again. "So responsive, so eager for more. You really ready for round two?"
Satoru smirks up at Suguru, licking cum from his lips before leaning up to meet his lips in a filthy kiss. You watch in a haze of pleasure as they share your taste, their tongues tangling together hungrily. When they finally pull apart, Suguru's eyes are dark with desire as he looks down at you. 
"I think she's ready for whatever we want to give her," 
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cozycottagetarot ¡ 21 hours ago
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The Little Things That Drive Them Wild
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Notes: I've been working on this all week, I'm depressed and on top of that burnt out and exhausted soooo sorry if I missed any mistakes!
💄 Reading Contents:
How Do You Unintentionally Captivate Them?
The Personality Traits They Find Magnetic
Your Everyday Charm
💋 Patreon Extended:
Moments When They Feel Weak for You
Their Favorite “Caught in the Act” Moments
How They Fantasize About Responding
This reading is for entertainment purposes only! Take only what resonates be it all, some or none! ✨
LINKS: Reading Masterlist | Dividers | Ko-Fi | Patreon | Patreon Masterlist | Paid Readings | Paid Readings - $10 and Under - PLEASE DM ME ABOUT READINGS
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PILE 1
How Do You Unintentionally Captivate Them?
Cards: Page of Cups, Two of Wands, Sun,
For some reason, the first thing that comes to mind is someone caught mid-thought, their eyes kind of distant but soft, lost in a dream or musing about something exciting. There’s something so captivating about when you slip into those moments. It’s like you radiate this quiet, hopeful energy that makes your person wonder what’s going on in that mind of yours. To them, it's irresistible.
You also have this undeniable joy exuding from you. The kind that can infects others without them even noticing. When you’re fully in the moment, letting this joy pour out of you, it’s like the world around you disappears for your person. They’re completely pulled in without you even trying.
I also keep getting this image of you smiling—a genuine, effortless kind of smile—and your person being absolutely smitten. You seem to have this way of lighting up when you’re excited or happy, and it’s almost like they can’t help but feel it, too.
The Personality Traits They Find Magnetic
Cards: Knight of Swords, Death, Seven of Wands
The first thing that stands out is your ambition and drive—you don’t hesitate to charge forward when you’ve set your sights on something, and your person finds that magnetic. And it’s not just that you’re ambitious; it’s the way you act on it. You seek out transformation and change with a sense of confidence and purpose. There’s something so inspiring to your person about the way you embrace growth, even when it means taking risks or stepping into the unknown.
I also get that your fierceness is a big part of what draws them in. I feel like you don’t back down when it comes to defending what you believe in. Even in moments where you might not be 100% correct, the passion you bring when it comes to standing your ground is something your person finds strangely endearing. Part of what draws your person to you is that spitfire energy and the way you throw your whole heart into what you care about.
But you also have a softer energy that balances everything out. You’re someone who's generous and compassionate, maybe even without a second thought. You're the type of person who would stop everything to help an injured animal or lend a hand to someone in need without a second thought. It’s that blend of intensity and gentleness that makes keeps the hooked. Your person loves how multi-dimensional you are—someone who can fight for their beliefs one moment and show deep compassion the next.
Your Everyday Charm
Cards: Five of Cups, Five of Wands, Wheel of Fortune, Ace of Cups
There’s something about you that comes across as a bit mysterious... I feel like in quieter moments when you’re lost in thought or just keeping to yourself, your person may feel like they take the time to really see you. What I mean by this is the little details about you such as the way your features soften when you’re deep in your own world.
I don’t know if you’re someone who fidgets or has a habit of touching things, but it feels like they notice those small quirks. Maybe it’s the way you twirl your hair, tap your fingers, or run your hand over a textured surface— but whatever it is, it’s something they can’t help but find endearing. I'm also getting that in moments where you’re being challenged by others, you may observe before reacting. If they're with you, it’s like they can see the gears turning in your head. They love watching you process things, almost like they’re trying to understand your inner workings of your mind.
There’s also this magical quality about you, like you have this ability to make life feel filled with magic in the simplest of ways. You might not even realize it, but somehow you make them feel like they’re living in a dream. There’s a sweetness to the way you show care, whether it’s through small, everyday gestures or moments where you’re pouring into your person or your relationship. Even mundane things—like making them a cup of coffee, fixing their hair, or just sitting next to them—feel enchanted for your person.
💋 Discover what makes them weak for you, their favorite “Caught in the Act” moments, and how they fantasize about responding (not a spicy reading). Plus, unlock exclusive extended readings for all my other PACs when you join The Cozy Corner for just $1.50 USD (and up). Check it out here.✨
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PILE 2
How Do You Unintentionally Captivate Them?
Cards: Five of Wands, Three of Cups, Death
The first thing that comes to mind is your ability to adapt effortlessly to different environments and social circles. It’s like you could seamlessly blend into one group today and an entirely opposite group tomorrow, without missing a beat. This could stem from a survival mechanism you developed throughout your life, but it’s become second nature—a part of who you are. Your ability to navigate these social dynamics with ease is likely something your person finds captivating.
There’s also a strong sense of resilience about you. The way you handle conflict or challenging situations seems graceful, almost effortless, even when the odds are stacked against you. Your person might be struck by how you manage to remain composed under pressure and spin difficult moments into opportunities for growth. They might admire the way you emerge from the other side of hardship renewed, stronger, and ready to embrace what’s next.
Beyond that, there’s a warm, supportive energy radiating from you. Whether you’re celebrating with others or offering comfort, you seem to have a knack for making people feel at ease. I also get a sense of enchantment from these cards, almost as if there’s a spark of magic in how you carry yourself. For some reason, Tinker Bell comes to mind—maybe it’s a reminder of your playful, whimsical side or your ability to light up a room in unexpected ways. Maybe it's a confirmation for something you've been pondering on for a bit.
The Personality Traits They Find Magnetic Cards: Seven of Cups (Reversed), Page of Pentacles, The Emperor
You give off an energy of someone who is grounded, decisive, and incredibly self-assured. You have an ability to cut through the noise (of life really). While others might get lost in daydreams or overwhelmed by choices, you’re someone who sees clearly and knows exactly what you want. Your person could likely find this decisiveness magnetic, as it exudes a quiet confidence that feels stable and dependable.
I think you also bring a unique blend of practicality and creativity to the table. You’re someone who can take even the smallest spark of an idea and nurture it into something tangible. You have the focus and drive to bring dreams to life, and that’s an inspiring quality. It’s like you’re the one people look to when they need a plan or want to see something through. You come across as someone who knows how to take charge and create stability, whether in your own life or for those around you. Your person might admire how dependable you are, someone they (and others) can rely on for solid advice or a calm presence in chaotic times. I also feel like you're someone who puts the time and effort in and that's something that just does it for your person.
Your Everyday Charm Cards: Wheel of Fortune, The World, Five of Pentacles
There’s something charming about how you carry yourself through life’s ups and downs and not just the significant moments but the little ones too. Like missing a bus, running late for work, running out of something when you need it (I hope you get the gist lol). I also feel like your person sees beauty not just in your appearance (although that's emphasized as well) but in the way you quietly navigate the dull moments and short term disappointments we experience. You have a way of picking yourself up and boosting your spirit that is endearing. On a daily level, it might be the little things you do to create beauty in your life, no matter the circumstances. Think how you decorate your spaces, plate your food, cultivate a cozy moment.
Your person really admire how you’re able to turn the simplest things into something special, creating a life that feels fulfilling and intentional even when resources are limited. You don’t need the latest trends or expensive items—you can take something as humble as a few old books or scraps and turn them into something that feels genuinely valuable.
Your person notices the way you focus on making things better, no matter the circumstances, and finds it charming and hard to ignore.
💋 Discover what makes them weak for you, their favorite “Caught in the Act” moments, and how they fantasize about responding (not a spicy reading). Plus, unlock exclusive extended readings for all my other PACs when you join The Cozy Corner for just $1.50 USD (and up). Check it out here.✨
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Pile 3
How You Unintentionally Captivate Them
Cards: Death, Judgement. The Emperor, The Hierophant 
It’s not just one thing—it’s everything about you that pulls them in without you even realizing it. There’s this grounded, unshakeable energy you carry, but it’s wrapped in a quiet elegance that feels so effortless. It’s not about trying to stand out; you just do. The way you move through life—intentional, steady, and composed—creates a presence that people can’t help but notice. Even in chaos, you somehow stay calm, like you’re the eye of the storm.
What really gets them is how deeply you focus on what’s in front of you. It’s like the world blurs around you, and you’re completely in your element. Whether it’s the way your hands move when you’re busy, the calm in your voice when you’re speaking, or the determination in your eyes when you’re locked into something—it’s magnetic. They can’t look away.
It’s in the small, subtle things, too. The way you pay attention to details, how you seem to elevate even the simplest moments, or that quiet confidence you have without even trying. Maybe it’s the way you smile, how kind you are in little ways, or the natural grace you bring into every interaction. It feels like you make life more beautiful just by being in it.
There’s this perfect balance between your strength and your calmness that they can’t get enough of. You’re firm but approachable, confident but kind, and it’s just captivating. They admire how you move through life and how you make them feel just by being yourself.
The Personality Traits They Find Magnetic
Cards: Four of Cups, Eight of Wands, Queen of Wands, Strength
Your person is attracted to how intentional you are about what you let into your world. You don’t say “yes” just to go along with things or settle for something that doesn’t feel right. Your discerning nature makes you stand out and pulls them in.
There’s also the way you move through life with an air of purpose, momentum, and confidence. You don’t linger too long in “what ifs” or overthinking; you simply trust yourself to make the right call and go for it. It makes watching you in action thrilling for your person as you bring this bright, unstoppable energy wherever you go. You’re bold, and you own it, but it never feels forced. It’s just you, shining naturally.
I do think that what makes you really magnetic to your person is how you balance your boldness with gentleness. Beneath all you passion and creativity, there’s a softness that makes people feel safe and seen. It’s in the way you treat others with kindness and show care without making a big deal about it. Even when you’re chasing your passions, you always seem to carry this warmth and thoughtfulness.
Your Everyday Charm 
Cards: Wheel of Fortune, Justice, Nine of Pentacles
Somehow, you manage to make the simplest moments feel special, like everything you touch has a hint of magic to it. Even the way you go about your routine feels intentional, like you’re crafting a life that’s all your own.
I know I keep saying it, but the balance you keep on a daily basis charms your person. You’ve got this knack for keeping things in harmony, be it work, downtime, or fun, and on top of that you make it look so natural. It’s not about chasing perfection either, you just do what works for you. I think your person admires this so much.
I think you also manage to genuinely enjoy your everyday life and your person loves that about you. You don’t wait for big moments to feel happy—you find joy in the small stuff. Whether it’s sipping your favorite tea, throwing on an outfit that makes you feel amazing, or stopping to notice something beautiful, you have this way of savoring life that’s so refreshing.
💋 Discover what makes them weak for you, their favorite “Caught in the Act” moments, and how they fantasize about responding (not a spicy reading). Plus, unlock exclusive extended readings for all my other PACs when you join The Cozy Corner for just $1.50 USD (and up). Check it out here.✨
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konigslilcumslut ¡ 1 day ago
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Simon and his cruel patience in bed.
~(Hint of Dacryphilia)~
——————————————-
Simon’s patience has many levels to it. Different amounts for different things.
Sometimes he has absolutely none.
Other times he could be as patient as a saint.
And there is the cruel level of it which is when you are in any form of intimate moment with him.
At first, he wasn’t very patient with it. Desperate to have every single inch of you however and whenever he pleased. But the longer your relationship with him goes on…the more deliberately slow he becomes.
It starts out small, denying you orgasm a couple of times even though he’s on the brink himself.
But as time passes, the more he’d wait.
———————
You’d beg, plead with him repeatedly to the point of tears welling in frustration as he does nothing more than watch the way his cock glides over your clit again and again with every lazy roll of his hips.
“You can wait a little longer luv, be patient.”
Is the only response you’d get out of him.
Even when you start digging your nails into his skin when he deliberately only thrusts the tip into your weeping cunt for the 8th time.
Even when you’re desperately clenching around him when he finally does decide to sink his cock into your aching heat. He’ll still wait. Sitting nice and buried deep in your cunt until he feels like moving.
It’s only when any frustrated tears actually spill that he’ll give in. Relentlessly slamming his thick cock into you, bullying your tight hole and relishing in the way you go completely dumb under him when he finally gives you what you want.
“See? That wasn’t so hard now was it?”
“All you had to do was wait.”
He’d mock your frustration, not in a serious sense but more so in amusement that you can’t find the patience in you to wait for it. Too needy for his cock and it’s something he loves.
————————————————
Aftercare is a must, knowing he tends to put you through a lot when he’s fucking you. So he’ll channel that patience into it. Something you appreciate a whole lot more.
Gentle kisses, a warm bath. Hell even the biggest nap. Anything you want is yours once you’ve let him have his fun.
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moonlightdreamzz ¡ 3 days ago
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BANG CHAN
🎧 ➤ waves by normani
SUMMARY ✰ You and Bang Chan can’t let each other go, no matter how hard you try—love, hate, and jealousy pulling you back every time. But when he sees you at an afterparty soaking up someone else’s attention, he can’t help but remind you who you really belong to.
GENRE ✰ (A)(S). ComplicatedEx!BangChan, Idol!Reader
“Chan, are you even listening?” Felix’s voice breaks through the quiet hum of the car, an edge of frustration in it.
Chan blinks, slowly coming back to reality. His gaze drifts over to his members—Felix, Seungmin, Hyunjin—all watching him with concerned, yet exasperated expressions. He can feel the weight of their eyes on him, but his mind is elsewhere. He doesn’t want to think about you. Not now. Not when everything inside of him is already tangled up.
“I hear you,” he mutters, but his voice feels distant, even to him.
“You hear us, but you’re not listening,” Seungmin presses, his tone gentle but firm. “Every time you see her, you lose it. You think you can walk in there and be fine, but it’s always the same thing. You end up making it worse.”
Chan sighs, leaning back against the seat, rubbing his temples. He knows they’re right. He knows how it always ends—confusion, regret, the same broken cycle. But no matter how hard he tries to escape it, he can’t.
“Yeah, Chan. What are you gonna do if you see her with another guy tonight? Hm?” Hyunjin’s voice is quiet, but it’s the question that hits him the hardest. He feels his chest tighten. The idea of you laughing, talking to someone who isn’t him, sends a wave of something—jealousy? Longing?—that he can’t quite name.
“Chan, please don’t do this to yourself,” Felix adds, the concern in his voice clear. “We’ve seen this before. You can’t keep going around in circles like this.”
But it’s already too late. Chan knows the feeling too well—the pull, the ache of wanting you when he shouldn’t, of seeing you with someone else and realizing all over again that he can’t let go.
“I won’t do anything,” Chan says, though even he doesn’t believe the words. They sound hollow. Empty.
Felix doesn’t respond. Seungmin just shakes his head, looking out the window.
They’ve said all they can say. But he knows they’re right. He can feel it in his bones, that familiar sinking feeling in his stomach.
He opens the door, stepping out into the night air, the cold biting at his skin. His heart races, and for the first time tonight, he’s not sure if he’s ready to face what’s coming. But he’s already in too deep, and he’s never been good at turning back.
He remembers how it all started, the first time he saw you backstage. The laughter, the way you seemed so effortlessly in control of your world, yet with eyes that hid a quiet sadness. He never could resist that mix of strength and vulnerability. That’s what drew him in and made him want to know you more. At first, it was easy. You were his best friend, his confidant. You made him laugh, made him forget about all the chaos around him. You had this way of taking the edge off, making the world feel a little lighter.
But as the months passed, he started to notice the cracks. They were small at first—an offhand comment here, a moment of silence there—but they grew, and eventually, they consumed everything. The late-night calls turned into long silences. The plans to see each other? They became last-minute, pushed aside for work or another obligation. Chan wasn’t blind to it. He could feel the space between him and you stretching, growing wider. And despite his efforts to keep it all together, the love you once had, the connection, started to wither.
He runs a hand through his hair as the memory hits him of the night it all fell apart. The fight you had. Words said that couldn’t be taken back. Feelings hurt that couldn’t be healed with a kiss. It wasn’t just the distance or the work—it was the way you hurt each other. He wasn’t there when you needed him, and you... you didn’t know how to let him in anymore.
Then there was the cheating. A mistake. A huge mistake that both of you made. But even after all that, neither of you could walk away. The pull, the connection, the history—it was too strong. And so you stayed in the mess of it all, the on-again, off-again dynamic that felt like it was slowly suffocating both of you. Neither of you could let go, but neither could you figure out how to make it work.
Now, you've settled into something that almost feels safe: late-night booty calls. It’s the one thing neither of them can resist. No strings attached, just the raw, heated tension they both try to ignore during the day. No conversations about what went wrong, no expectations about what happens next. It’s simple, at least for now. You call when the loneliness gets too much, when the memory of each other feels too strong to ignore. And he answers—because how could he not? The pull is always there. It’s messy, but it’s easier this way. It’s safer. No risk of heartbreak, no need to face the reality that they’re both still hurting. They can just be there for each other in the dark, in the silence, and it’s enough for now.
But right now, that doesn't matter, because you're off again.
Chan stopped keeping track of the fights a long time ago. Maybe it was because he was so exhausted with his rollercoaster of emotions, that he couldn't keep up if he tried. Or maybe it's because he knows that the reason doesn't matter—you both always find your way back to each other anyways.
The party’s electric, buzzing with laughter, flashing lights, and music so loud it vibrates in his chest. But to Chan, it all feels surreal, like a scene from a movie that he’s forced to watch, not be part of. The air is thick with the heat of bodies moving, the scent of alcohol, and the hum of a good time. But none of it feels right—because you’re not by his side.
He scans the room, fingers tightening around his drink as his eyes flicker across the crowd. His thoughts drift back to the nights when you two would sneak away from everyone else, just the two of you in your little bubble of secret smiles and stolen glances. Those nights felt different. They felt real. You were never loud about it, never making a show. It was in the quiet moments. A light brush of your fingertips against his arm as you walked past him, barely noticeable to anyone but him. Or when he’d press himself against you in the crowd, just to feel the heat of your body, the closeness that made him ache in ways he couldn't describe. The brush of your lips when you’d lean close to whisper something in his ear, and how every touch, every glance, sent a rush of excitement through him.
No one knew. Only your members, the ones who had seen the way you’d sneak off together when you thought no one was looking. That secrecy made it thrilling. It wasn’t just being with you—it was being with you in the dark, where nobody could judge, where no one could tear you apart. It was the unspoken understanding between the two of you, the way your body language said everything when words failed.
It was alive, in a way that nothing tonight felt.
“Starting your bullshit already?” Changbin sneers teasingly, his voice cutting through the pounding bass of the music.
“Shut up,” Chan mutters, his eyes snapping out of their search for you only momentarily to glare at his member.
Changbin’s laugh echoes loudly, even over the music. He lifts his hand high and slaps it onto Chan’s shoulder, shaking him aggressively—as if trying to snap him back into reality. “C’mon, hyung. I got a girl for each and every one of us. Y/N, as much as I adore her, is old news. Stop searching the room like some lovesick puppy. Take some shots, have a good time, and meet…” He pauses dramatically, swinging his free hand behind him like he’s presenting the grand prize.
Winter steps out from the shadows, radiant and self-assured, her smile sharp enough to cut glass.
“This,” Changbin declares, his grin wide, “is Winter.”
Winter’s eyes meet Chan’s, and she doesn’t look away. She’s bold, the kind of girl who doesn’t need to play coy. The other Aespa members hover close by, quiet and polite, but their presence only amplifies Winter’s confidence.
Chan doesn’t miss the silent exchange of looks between his single bandmates. They’re already thanking Changbin in their heads, no doubt.
He feels Winter’s gaze burning into him, waiting for a reaction. Maybe this is what he needs—someone new. Someone who doesn’t come with history, heartbreak, or late-night regrets.
“I—uh,” he starts, but Winter doesn’t let him finish.
“Do you dance?” she asks, her voice smooth and enticing.
“Not really,” he replies, shifting on his feet.
“Perfect,” she quips, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the crowd before he can protest.
The music feels louder here, the bass vibrating through the floor and up his legs. Winter’s hand is warm in his, her movements confident and fluid as she guides him into the rhythm. She doesn’t push too hard, just enough to make it easy to follow her lead.
Chan tries. He really tries. But then he sees you.
You’re on the other side of the room, dancing with Nicholas from &TEAM. You’re smiling, your face lit up with the kind of joy that makes his chest ache.
The world tilts.
For a moment, it’s just you and Nicholas, the way he spins you effortlessly, your laughter ringing out even over the music. And suddenly, nothing else matters.
Chan’s grip on Winter loosens. The memory of his last conversation with you slams into him, unrelenting. “I don’t know what I want,” he’d told you, the words slipping out in the heat of frustration. He’d left you standing there, hurt and confused.
And now here you are, moving on. Or at least pretending to.
“I thought you didn’t dance,” Winter says, her voice cutting through the noise as she leans in closer.
“I don’t,” he mutters, barely paying attention.
Winter studies him, her eyes narrowing slightly. She’s no fool—she can see where his focus lies.
Across the room, Nicholas pulls you closer, his hand resting on your lower back, and it’s all Chan can take. Without thinking, he moves.
Winter calls after him, but he doesn’t look back. He’s pushing through the crowd, his steps quick and determined, until he’s standing in front of you and Nicholas.
You blink up at him, surprised, your smile faltering just slightly.
“Can we talk?” Chan says, his voice low, almost lost in the noise of the party.
Nicholas raises an eyebrow but doesn’t speak.
“Please,” Chan adds, the word slipping out before he can stop it.
The moment the bathroom door shuts, you turn to face him, arms crossed and a smirk already tugging at your lips. “Oh, this should be good,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Go ahead, Chan. Explain why you just had to drag me away from having a perfectly good time.”
His jaw tightens as he leans against the sink, staring at you like you’re the problem. “I couldn’t just stand there,” he says, his tone sharp.
“Why not?” you shoot back, stepping closer. “You’re the one who left, remember? You said you didn’t know what you wanted, so why does it matter what I’m doing now?”
He runs a hand through his hair, the frustration pouring off him in waves. “Because I see you with him, and it makes me—” He stops, biting down on the words like they might burn him.
“Say it,” you challenge, tilting your head. “What, Chan? It makes you jealous? Possessive? You can’t have it both ways. You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me either. Do you hear how insane that sounds?”
“Like you’re any better,” he snaps, stepping into your space now. “Don’t act like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing out there. Dancing with him, laughing like you’re so happy. You knew I’d see it.”
“Of course, I knew,” you reply, unfazed. “Why do you think I did it? You think you can just leave me and expect me to sit around waiting for you to figure out your shit? Please.”
His lips twitch, caught somewhere between anger and something darker. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re predictable,” you counter, crossing your arms tighter. “Every time I start to move on, here you come, pulling me back in like clockwork.”
He exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “You think I want to feel like this? Like I’m losing my mind every time I see you with someone else? I hate it, Y/N. I hate that I can’t let you go, but I don’t know how.”
You scoff, but your voice softens, the cracks in your armor showing. “You think I don’t get it? I do. I feel the same way, Chan. Every time you’re with someone else, it’s like—” You break off, shaking your head with a bitter laugh. “It doesn’t even matter. None of it matters because, at the end of the day, we’re always right back here, aren’t we?”
His gaze locks onto yours, the anger melting into something softer, more desperate. “Yeah,” he admits quietly. “We are.”
For a moment, neither of you speaks, the silence thick with unspoken truths. Then you break it, your voice dripping with venom even as your eyes betray your longing.
“You’re a mess,” you say, shaking your head.
“And you’re any better?” he retorts, his lips curving into a dark smile.
The tension crackles like a live wire between you, the bathroom suddenly feeling too small, too suffocating. You take a step back, your resolve wavering.
“I hate you,” you say, but the words lack conviction.
“I hate you too,” he replies, but his voice cracks just enough to betray him.
“I hate you,” you say, a smirk curling at the edge of your lips. Your voice is sharp, dripping with venom, but your eyes tell a different story—challenging, taunting.
“I hate you too,” Chan snaps back, his steps deliberate as he closes the space between you.
“Good,” you purr, leaning into the tension like you’re daring him to keep going.
“Great,” he growls, his smirk matching yours.
“You’re so predictable,” you say, tilting your head as if you’re bored. Your gaze dips to his clenched fists before rising to meet his eyes again. “Always running back when you see someone else enjoying me.”
His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t stop moving forward. “And you love it, don’t you? The attention. The games.”
You shrug, pretending to think. “Maybe. Or maybe I just like watching you lose your mind.”
“Careful,” he warns, his voice low and dangerous.
“Careful?” You laugh, the sound light and airy, cutting through the heavy tension like a blade. “You think I’m scared of you, Chan?”
“You should be.”
“Please,” you scoff, taking a step toward him instead of away. Now it’s his turn to stop in his tracks, his confidence flickering under your steady gaze. “I’ve seen you at your worst. You think this is supposed to intimidate me?”
His eyes narrow, the air thickening, heavy with the unspoken truth between you. Without a moment’s hesitation, he steps into your space, his hands moving to grip your wrists as he pins you against the wall. His lips crash against yours, urgency and hunger taking over, a kiss that speaks volumes of the years of unspoken desire and tension building between you.
The kiss is raw, hungry—teeth clashing, lips bruising, each touch igniting the sparks between you. But it’s his hands that drive you wild, pulling at your clothes, fingers working to expose more of you, to claim what he’s always wanted.
You fight him for control, sliding your hands up his chest, your fingers curling into his shirt. But he’s too strong, his touch too demanding, the power dynamic shifting as he forces you back into the wall, his body pressed against yours with a possessiveness you can’t ignore.
“Is this what you wanted?” he mutters against your skin, his voice thick, his breath hot.
You can barely answer before his lips are on your neck, sucking and biting as his hands roam, caressing every inch of exposed skin. You gasp, biting back a moan as your hands travel lower, desperate to feel him, to pull him closer.
“I think I want more,” you whisper, your voice trembling with desire.
Before anything else can happen, Chan pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes. His chest rises and falls with quick breaths, his grip on you firm, almost possessive.
“We should get out of here,” he mutters, his voice rough, the weight of what’s about to happen settling between you.
You nod wordlessly, a silent agreement passing between you. The game is over. The act of pretending, of keeping this thing between you casual, is over.
With one last heated kiss, Chan pulls away, quickly adjusting his clothes and reaching for the door. You follow his lead, stepping out of the bathroom with him, hand in hand, both of you silently agreeing that the rest of the night belongs to you.
Meanwhile, back at the bar, the rest of Stray Kids are watching, their eyes trained on the bathroom door. Hyunjin leans over to Felix with a sly grin, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
"It's like taking candy from a baby." Hyunjin chuckles. He takes each individual bill from Felix"s defeated hand, blessing each one with a "thank you".
Unbeknownst to Chan, Felix and Hyunjin placed a bet while he was vigorously showering and coating himself with cologne, all "just because". Hyunjin had no faith in Chan being able to control himself, but Felix was carrying a generous heart today.
"I don't know why I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. Shit is embarrassing." Felix scoffs--annoyed and amused all in one.
Seungmin appears behind the two of them, placing his arms over both of their shoulders. "The real bet isn't whether Chan was going to lose his shit--it's how long they're going to stay together this time."
Immediately, the bets start flying out of their mouths. Two weeks! A month! 48 hours!
Meanwhile, you and Chan didn't make it to either one of your dorms. The second the door shut in the car, he threw you into the back seat. He knew you well enough to know you didn't have on panties. He can't help himself right now. His face is buried deep into your p__sy, he's missed you so much. His face is covered in you, and the only words he can mutter as you grind onto his tounge is "I love you so much" "You taste so good, baby" 'Use me like the slut I am"
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mattsnight ¡ 2 days ago
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Bsf!chris taking shy!readers virginity ! ✧₊⁺
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My first language is not english!
“y’know i can help with that ache, right?” Chris mumbles against your skin, his hands trailing slow figures on your side. You’re a virgin and you’ve always hated it. It’s stupid you can’t seem to find the right guy to give your virginity to. Chris knew about your situation and tried helping you with taking you to parties to meet new people, but none of it helped. That’s why he took matters into his own hands.
“What?” You say, your face turning a light shade of pink within seconds. “You heard me,” he starts, now looking up at you. “I could…” his hand moves to your face to cup your cheek. “help you.”
A small gulp is left from your mouth as he speaks. “Like you… want to touch me?” You say under your breath. Chris smiles and nods. He was so patient with you every time you two talked about things like this. “I’ll be gentle and slow.”
You nod, sitting up to fix your posture. Chris also sits up and moves his hands to the edge of your shirt, pulling at it. “Can i take this off?” You wouldn’t say no to that. “Yes,”
He takes it off before throwing it to the floor. For a moment he takes in how beautiful you look with your red lace bra. He’s almost floating in the air. “Shitttt… may i?” He asks, pointing at it. You nod almost immediately. He chuckles, unclasping the bra. You suddenly feel a big wave of nervousness wash over you. Did you really want this right now? Was this a good idea? You push the thoughts aside as you look into Chris’ gorgeous love-filled eyes. He leaves slow kisses down your neck, to your chest before stopping. “You still comfortable?”
“Yes..” you breathe out. Chris smirks before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, tracing laps around it with his tongue. Your hand moves into his hair while the other is trying to grab something. Chris moves to your other nipple. “C-chris.. that feels really good.”
“Yeah? You lovin’ the feeling?”
“Mhhhhmm…”
After a short while he pulls back, moving in between your legs. “You ever touched yourself, hm?” He asks, knowing the answer. You blush again, feeling embarrassed. “Maybe..” you mumble. “Maybe? Give me a real answer, doll.” He will not shut up until you give him the truth. “Yes..”
That’s what he needed to hear. “Then you know how it feels right? Only this time it will be better.” His hands move to your shorts to pull them off, looking into your eyes for permission first. As you nod he doesn’t hesitate. He takes off your shorts, throwing them to the floor where your shirt is, revealing your matching red panties.
“Fuck, got the whole set on tonight..” he moves his hands the inside of your thighs, taking in the view again. Then, he pulls down your panties. You immediately try to cover yourself up as you start to feel really exposed, but chris immediately spreads your legs again. “Nah, don’t be embarrassed, ‘kay? Just gonna help you get that ache gone.”
And with that he runs a finger down your slit, surprised how wet you are. “Fuck.. you’re so gorgeous, ma.” He says, teasingly moving his finger against your entrance. A small whine escapes your lips as you start to feel more and more desperate. “Chris please…” your voice cracks, failing itself. “Please what?” He asks teasingly. “I need your fingers…” you lay your head back against your pillow. “Where do you want them?”
“Everywhere… please chris.”
That motivated Chris. He pushes one finger inside of you, feeling your tightness. His movements are slow at first, but grow faster as you keep adjusting. “You’re so tight..” chris groans, looking at how his fingers disappear inside of you. It was terrible how hard he got from this.
He adds another finger, spreading them inside of you. “Takin’ my fingers so well, baby. Keep taking deep breaths, yeah?” He says, moving his other hand around your stomach as a sign of comfort. “Feels… so good.” You moan out. Chris’ ego almost busts through the roof, but keeps calm.
His thumb moves to your clit, slowly rubbing it at first before speeding up. He keeps doing this routine for a while, making you feel extremely good. “Chris.. i- do i cum now?” You ask, unsure if you’re close, since it’s a new feeling. “Yeah, just let it all go f’me.. you’re doin’ s’good, pretty.” He praises, speeding up his movements. “Just like thaattttt.” You cum hard, your pussy clenching around his fingers. “Chris! Fuck!” Your hand moves to his, squeezing tightly. Shit, it felt so good.
Chris stops his movements, but doesn’t pull his fingers out. He watches you come down from your high. “I think i’ve never made someone cum that hard.” He chuckles, before slowly taking his fingers out of you. A wave of uncomfortableness washes over you as he pulls his fingers out. “Shit, i should’ve warned you it could hurt.” He says, rubbing your thighs.
“N-no it’s okay. Can we just… go further?” You ask, your voice full with desperation. Chris’ eyes shoot up at you. “What? You sure? It’s like.. quite a level higher.”
“Im sure, please.”
Chris nods, standing up. He takes off his shirt, then his belt and then his pants. His gaze is focused on your face, trying to see if you’re uncomfortable in any way, but there’s nothing bad, just desperation. He takes out his dick. “You ready?” He asks, only focussed on your pleasure. “Yeah, yeah- just go slow.”
He places himself at your entrance before slowly pushing it, but not too far. You wince at the stretch. Chris stops his movements, letting you adjust to the first bit. “We’re takin’ it slow.. deep breaths.”
Then, he pushes in further. He’s almost fully in as he sees tears swell in your eyes. “Hey- hey, look at me.” He says, grabbing your hand. “Does it hurt too much? We can stop.” You shake your head. “I just need.. to adjust.” You say, wiping away the tears.
As a few minutes fly by, you start to feel better. “You- you can move.” Chris nods, slowly moving his hips. “Just tell me if it’s too much, yeah?” He says, moving his hands to your waist to get a better angle. His movements start to speed up, making you moan and cry out. “Fuck”
“Takin’ me like a good girl, ma.. c’mon don’t hold back.” His balls are now slapping against your ass with each thrust. “Chris- chris- chris.. i’m gonna cum.” You warn as that familiar feeling comes closer. “Yeah? Cum for me.”
With that, you cum hard all over him again. Once again feeling that incredible feeling. “Ugnnhh…” you manage to get out. Chris’ head falls back as he also lets go. “Shit.. oh fuck”
“That was so fucking good.”
///
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takes1 ¡ 2 days ago
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[final part] kuroo x hard to get!reader
ohhh this was a fun little series. thanks for the support :)
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warnings. nsfw, minors DNI
details. face sitting / riding kuroo / pining!kuroo / complicated crushes / hard to get!reader / switch!reader / switch!kuroo / rbf!reader / manager!reader / whiny!kuroo / training camp setting / degradation kink / quickie / play fighting kink / kuroo with a big ego / player!kuroo / 3.3k words
links. my masterlist. more haikyuu here. part one. part two. requests open.
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There was only a small pause, short enough for him to realize what you were doing.
"Please just come in," He sighed, candid and contrite, "Until the storm passes."
At this point, you were both locked in a tense game of chess, unwilling to sacrifice too much truth at any given point, but unable to stop playing until somebody won. You let him slip your raincoat off of you and hang it up, gentle, attentive, playing eye tag for the length of time it took to close and lock the door.
The kitchen stole your attention almost right away, filled with the sounds of a ritual slaughter. The shouting was accusatory and excited, like someone had been deeply wronged.
"Stop that before you set something on fire!" Kuroo shouted.
He picked up the peace offering and carried it towards his needy, weary team.
Your eyes widened a little at his team captain voice, safe to react because his attention was split. You trailed behind him, hesitant, towards the commotion.
"Keep it down. We've got a guest."
The noise was broken for a moment of silence at the presence of hot food, landing right on the dining table, then a million eyes on you.
It looked like everyone was dressed comfortably because there were no girls around. You averted your eyes immediately from the few that were in just their underwear and found that most of them opted for no shirts.
None of them cared very much. They all went in on the giant bag like a pack of starving wolves, shoving each other out of the way, grabbing as many as they could hold all at once. One hit the floor and was picked up, placed right into somebody else's mouth for safe keeping.
You took a step back, closer to Kuroo. He was so tame compared to them. The bag was empty in 20 seconds; it would've been less than that, had they not been fighting over lukewarm scraps.
"Where's your Coach?" You surveyed the room and found nothing but Nekoma players, munching obnoxiously.
It was the most prevalent thing on your mind. You didn't want to be 'caught,' though your surface-level intentions were innocent and backed by evidence.
Right before you left your own team's corresponding lodging, Coach Ukai was rounding up all the guys, trying to put them down for bed like twenty rowdy toddlers. If everyone sat still, you'd be able to still hear him yelling down the pathway.
A short guy you caught earlier today as Yaku answered, between three big bites of a bun, "Oh, Coach Nekomata went to bed, like, an hour ago."
The guy was ancient. It made sense that he wouldn't be as involved as Ukai in his old age, but he also had no need to. His team was well-behaved. Despite their frenzy, they were still a much quieter group than Karasuno.
In fact, after all the initial thanks and praises sung for your angelic timing, it felt too quiet. You wanted to leave, get back to your familiar and fun team, despite the weather. Kuroo could sense it in your stiffness.
The team was preoccupied with their supper. He had to make some bold maneuver, or you would voluntarily forfeit and slink back in the rain- because that was somehow a more appealing option than admitting you wanted to have sex with him.
Fukunaga clocked the complicated mess that was your current dynamic for exactly what it was. Some weirdo mating ritual. First he noticed that Kuroo wasn't eating. Then that he was only speaking to you. He was the ticking clock personified, double fisting two delicious buns without blinking. His unwavering stare cut into you from across the kitchen.
You shivered at the intensity, shifted just a little towards Kuroo with your head turned, defensive, towards the lanky guy. "He's creeping me out."
Kuroo leaned further down to mutter against your hair, dismissive, "Him? Shouhei's harmless."
He lingered, bent at the waist, just to take in another breath of your hair. You smelled so good. He couldn't let you go back just yet.
"How about we go upstairs?"
Aside from Fukunaga, nobody had a mind to notice if you left now. It wasn't a 'Yeah, let's fuck,' but it was close, so you sat in hesitation for a good, still minute.
-
The pace naturally quickened the closer to the door you got, like you were being chased by something. It was mostly the threat of time, but the predatory vibe you both got from each other was substantial, like if you let your guard down for a second, the other would eat you alive.
There was a rushed cadence to the way you entered the room and how he slid the door closed- only slowing to completely lock it as quiet as possible.
Everything was still for a moment. The end game was in sight, and neither of you could predict who would be the first to let up. Would it end here, or as you were coming down?
"What's your deal?"
"What deal?" You snapped, arms crossed, glancing about the large room filled with pallets.
This was so risky. Nothing about the danger of getting caught up here appealed to you. You weren't sure if he understood how comprised you'd be if anyone heard about this- you'd have to quit your manager job, at least.
It made you rigid, inflexible conversationally and physically. He fought the need to cross his arms, too.
"Why did you really come over?" He threw his chin up at you. When he tried to close the distance, he noticed how you took a step back.
The irony was eating him alive; you were so delicate to work with, but merciless in your methods- and you just kept coming back around, sparing no time for him to find just the right angle to work through your impossible armor.
His dismal attitude marked the next words out of his mouth, "You just- get a kick out of torturing me, or something?"
A hum- no, a laugh. He looked at you to figure out what it really was, and found your expression a little softer.
You looked around the room, head rocking side to side, "Mmm...Yeah."
Kuroo rolled his eyes at how much it took for you to be honest with him. He muttered to himself on the way to his bedding. You could leave if you wanted, but he needed to sit down. Dealing with you made him tired.
It was passive enough to get you curious again. You came around eventually, taking the time to mosey through the little aisle of space between where everyone slept. He only looked up from his hands when he felt you sit and lean against his side.
The flinch back was too strong to be ignored. He winced at the way your brows screwed up, forming a negative, probably wrong idea of him already. He could hear you being let down.
"You're all talk," Your voice was kind, dismissive, but your gaze pierced right through him.
He had to act like it didn't hurt, as if you didn't just twist a knife in his stomach.
It wasn't his fault you had conditioned him to be wary of you, if he wanted to stay in your favor- if he wanted a fair chance at pleasing you.
It frustrated him that you put him in a box so quickly, inspiring rough and ready action.
But you didn't back down from the quick, hungry kiss he stole from your parted lips. It was a challenge, after all. You met it, leaned freely into it- fingers filling with his messy, still-wet hair, while he palmed at your waist to pull you into his lap.
"You're not a-," Kuroo cut you off on purpose with another kiss, so you pushed him against the floor, eyes narrowed at his smirk, "You're not a virgin, are you?"
Fingers hooked under the waistband of your pants, searching absentmindedly for your panties, he laughed- genuinely amused.
"Fuck no," Was a sigh, distracted by the subtle but undeniable rock of your hips on top of him.
The sensation was so much better than his hand. He pushed against you, eyes scouring every inch of the perfect sight before him.
"Then why are you acting like one?" You pulled your shirt off, tossing it a reachable distance away.
That look in your eyes was back as you struggled to undo the clasp on your bra for a second; what he could now read as 'You better be worth it.'
Kuroo sat up with a quickness, forcing you to rock back and lean against his thighs, his brow sifting through the implication of your words, but his eyes ready to deliver.
"What, I can't be a little nervous?"
Big, agile hands slid behind you with another crushing kiss.
Your bra was off in half a second, replaced with his warm palms. He groaned against your lips at the feeling- you melted a little into his hasty touch, his wordless declaration of desire.
You arched into his touch, into his kisses descending in a messy, wet flurry down your collarbone and over your perky buds. The addicting sensation of his tongue made your thighs squeeze, your hips to rolling over his with a gasp as you unbuttoned yourself.
Those big hands swallowed up your sides easily, so pleasant compared to the cold air that made your skin prickle.
Soon, you were pushing him again, harder because he wasn't as easy to remove this time.
His eyes searched you, watching you get up and only concerned for a moment before you took the rest of your clothes off, standing over him. He realized he couldn't catch his breath, perfectly still in awe at your confident smile, that self-imposed nudity you used just to get a rise out of him.
"Shit," He groaned. His back of his head hit his pillow and he openly palmed himself to the sight of you.
Those cat-like eyes were blown out, so dark against the whites of his eyes, a little hitch on his breath already before you could even think about sitting back down. You nudged his shin with your foot to bring him back to the land of the living, telling him to take it all off.
The guy was a nice size- worthy of some of his cocky attitude, at least. You sat on him to slide back and forth over him.
"This what you wanted, pretty boy?" Your eyes were smiling, but your little frown was what completed the look for him.
The clipped whine, loud, though it never got past his lips, told you yes.
You put your hands on his chest so he had to watch you slide over his cock, coating him, showing him how wet you had gotten from that killer body he flaunted around so freely. He was kind of a whore, and you wanted him to know it.
It felt heavenly but he would never have guessed it, based on that pissed off pout you still had. His nails dug into the fleshy part of your thighs, a big sigh to collect himself before he let go, hands clasped behind his head. It looked casual, enjoying the view.
"You wanna know what I want?" He teased.
You cocked a brow at him, still using his slippery member to get off with little circles of your hips. He rode a fine line.
"I wantcha to sit on my face."
Kuroo blew a kiss at you. It wasn't the kiss, rather the good idea that made you slow to a stop and hum.
"Oh yeah?" Your low-lidded eyes burned into his soul as you dipped to eye level.
Your breasts squished against him, a thumb brushing his glossy lips- you took his cock with one hand and lined him up against your pussy, sensitive head rubbing back and forth.
The little bit of pressure against you, as he bucked instinctively with a throaty groan, helped your point.
He was under a spell, breath shallow, his fingers coming undone with the built-in need to steady your hips and fuck you already.
You spoke to that struggle in his eyes, "You sure that's what you want?"
Kuroo unlaced his hands and, when you thought you had him, sitting further back on his cock, he pulled you up and off of him.
"Was saving just enough room for dessert, baby," He muttered, dark and restrained, but still managing a little bit of humor to shine through.
He sure did. That slick tongue of his did more than just aggravate the shit out of you- he could guess what you wanted by how you were riding his cock. Nothing too aggressive, just dizzyingly consistent and enthusiastic.
Because it was the notion of worship that got you off. How good did it feel? How much did you want to fuck him? That depended. How bad did he want it?
"F-uck," You moaned under your hand, legs shaking under the locked pull of his arms, "Fuck-mmnh!"
Kuroo's excited, well-placed moans vibrated against you, faltering your balance at the worst of times.
You kept a rough hold in that mess of black hair and rode his flat tongue with no shortage of eye contact.
It was like you hated each other, how vicious those looks got.
You couldn't stand it. You'd be damned before you came on his tongue. He was going to give you your orgasm with his cock.
When you tried to get off, he readjusted his grip, stronger-- you had to start prying his fingers, one by one, off of your thighs. He loved how whiny and cute you got in the struggle, but noticed you never once begged him to stop.
You jumped, failing one last time to get his arm off, at his silly groan buzzing against your clit, "Ah-!"
It took pressing your palms against his face to get him to let go.
His gaze was brutal, taking in the way your legs shook, as he pushed the rest of you off of his chin and onto his aching cock.
There was no point in changing positions. It was obvious you wanted to be on top. He wanted the view.
"O-ohh," You threw your head back, eyes screwed shut, at that perfect, pretty cock stuffed in you.
Your tight pussy took the breath out of him. His hands filled with your hips, bringing you slow, up and down over what you had been too proud to admit that you needed.
His low-lidded eyes took in every curve of your perfect body, every little bounce he fucked into you, especially the shocked expression taking your face. It wasn't dissimilar to what you had looked like watching him earlier that day.
"That feel good, pretty girl?" He raked his nails gently across your thighs.
He seethed at the intense feeling of you starting to fuck him right back. It was a move he hadn't experienced yet with any other partners.
And you got to watch him completely unravel before your glossy eyes.
"F-uck-!" He gasped, "H-oh, shit," was spilling out of his mouth, between the light sounds of him bottoming out into your soaking wet cunt.
His brows were screwed up, real vulnerable- it sent a chill through you and ended swirling up fast, turning into tension in your tummy that he threatened to fill.
You prayed nobody was in the hallway, or they'd be able to hear some downright incriminating sounds.
Your palm pressed over his loud mouth, barely swallowing your own whimpering to tell him, "Shh..."
The way you threw your weight back into his thrusts demanded a very whiny cry into your hand. You knew it; you knew he was a whiny fuck. You clocked him so well from the very beginning.
Maybe he would've been more of a dominant presence if he was used to dealing with girls like you- or maybe he liked giving up some responsibility, once in a while.
His big, strong hands groped at your tits as they bounced, brushing his skin just enough to get some sharp, rolling pleasure.
He slowed, his hips rolling deep into you- he moved out of your hand and took a breath through his mouth to gasp.
"You better not cum before me," You warned, a little stilted because of how close you were, but deadly serious.
Your resting face was just so bitchy. You looked like you hated him, but loved his cock by the way you fucked him.
Kuroo kept his edge at bay with his eyes unfocused, trying not to watch you. Just for you, just so he could feel you cum first.
He was so grateful -barely holding on, just a dumb toy for you to fuck at this point-, to hear a high-pitched break in your gasps, "Mm-!"
"A-h-mmn-!" You kept your sounds muffled so well with one hand, forcing him to keep his at bay with the other.
The tension in your face was incredibly cute. Probably the only look of its kind, when it came to what you were willing to show him.
It was all he could do to fuck you to the height of it, rough but so dangerously close after that he had to pull out halfway through yours.
And boy, were you glad to be keeping him quiet. That guy could wake up the whole camp if he wanted to.
He came all over his own tummy, sweaty and out of breath, not even pushing back against your hand. He looked exhausted. You were tired, too, but didn't wear it as clearly. You spared a minute to catch your breath.
A slow, little peck to his forehead.
"All talk."
You slid your hand off of him and composed yourself enough to stand, gathering up your clothes. You grinned at the deep frown you were able to conjure while he was still swimming in post-orgasm bliss.
Kuroo groaned, sleepy and filling back up with something unpleasant, running his fingers through hair. He sat up, still glossy with cum.
You were nearly dressed when he was carefully pulling his pants back on.
He was so broody at your words, grumpy when you got a tiny glance at his face- there was a shared, quiet understanding that he still needed to walk you back, so you quietly waited for him to wipe off in the bathroom and pull a jacket on.
The journey to get out the door was comical and exaggerated in nature. Lots of looking around corners, waiting for people to get distracted, for you to slip outside. Thankfully his team weren't concerned with your whereabouts.
Kuroo still had not said a thing to you until you were back at Karasuno's lodging. You had already made your peace with this as the end of it, entirely, and understood he wouldn't want to look at you again after tonight.
When you about to turn, to go inside, he spoke up.
"Did you get what you wanted?"
It was mean and assuming. You deserved it a little.
"Did you?"
He deserved it too. It felt like you both lost, in a way.
You leaned into a last-second kiss, hands coming out of your pockets to run your fingers through his hair again. It fell naturally into a very long, lustful thing between you. His hands pulled you against him, hot and heavy, hardly ready to let go when you heard some stirring from inside.
"Fuck, no," He admitted, using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth.
The door was unlocking.
"It's a long training camp."
You said it vague enough so Daichi would have no idea what you meant as you walked by him.
He threw a hard look to Kuroo before closing the door, who returned it tenfold.
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rafemotherfuckingcameron ¡ 2 days ago
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something with rafe comforting reader after she calls him and he picks her up from work because she bad cramps
CRAMPS
Word Count: 9.0k
Pairing(s): Reader x Rafe
Warnings: Cramps, Anxiety, Blood
Summary: Overwhelmed by painful cramps, you call Rafe for help
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The cramps were unbearable, hitting like relentless waves. You tried to push through, focusing on your work, but the pain sharpened, and dizziness set in. Concentration was impossible.
Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. Unsteady on your feet, you made your way to the bathroom. Each step was an effort, and the dull ache turned into something far worse. Inside, you locked the door and stumbled to the mirror. Your hands shook as you fumbled with your jeans, but the sight froze you in place. Blood—more than you’d ever expected—had soaked through your underwear, staining your clothes.
Panic surged. You hadn’t anticipated this, hadn’t prepared for it to be so bad. What was happening? What were you supposed to do now? Tears welled as you stood there, helpless. Your breaths grew shallow, and your heart raced with fear. A knock on the door jolted you.
“Hey, you okay in there?” a co-worker asked, concern evident in her voice.
You wiped at your face and replied, “I’m fine. Just give me a minute.”
Her footsteps receded, and you exhaled shakily, sinking to the floor. Trapped in the moment, unsure of what to do, you fumbled for your phone and typed a desperate text:
“Can I call you?”
The seconds stretched endlessly as you stared at the screen. No reply. Unable to wait, you dialed Rafe. The phone rang and rang, unanswered. Frantic, you left a voicemail, your voice breaking: “Babe, I need your help. Please… I’m scared, and I don’t know what to do.”
Hanging up, tears spilled freely as pain and fear consumed you. Each movement made the cramps worse. The more you tried to clean up, the bigger the mess became. Blood smeared everywhere, and you felt utterly defeated. When your phone finally buzzed, Rafe’s name lit up the screen.
-
“Rafe?” you answered, voice trembling.
“Hey, babe. I just got your voicemail. What’s wrong?” His concern was immediate.
“I’ve got cramps, and there’s… so much blood,” you stammered, choking on your sobs. “I feel sick, and I don’t know what to do.”
“I’m on my way. Just stay where you are,” he said firmly. “Don’t move too much, okay?”
“Okay,” you whispered. Relief mixed with anxiety as you waited for him. The pain continued, each wave worse than the last. Finally, there was a soft knock on the door.
“It’s me, babe,” Rafe called gently.
You unlocked the door, letting him in. His eyes took in the mess—the stained clothes, the bloody towels—and then he saw you. Pale and tear-streaked, you looked so small. Without hesitation, he locked the door and pulled you into his arms.
“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, sobbing into his chest.
“Shh, don’t apologize,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”
After a moment, he guided you to sit on the toilet lid and opened the bag he’d brought. From it, he pulled out fresh clothes and a damp washer. With tender care, he began cleaning you up, his movements calm and methodical. Despite the mess, he never flinched, his focus entirely on comforting you.
Once he helped you into clean clothes, he packed the soiled ones in a plastic bag. “I spoke to your boss,” he said softly. “You’re done for the day. I’m taking you home.”
Tears welled up again, this time from relief. “Thank you,” you whispered.
He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Let’s get you home.”
At home, Rafe guided you to the lounge, covering you with a blanket and placing a hot water bottle on your stomach. “Just relax, babe. I’m going to make you some soup.”
You nodded, feeling the first bit of comfort as the warmth began easing the pain. When he returned with a bowl of lentil soup and a glass of water, he sat beside you, stroking your hair as you ate.
“I love you,” you said softly, looking at him with teary eyes.
Rafe leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I love you too, baby. More than anything.”
@ilovethekookprince @anonymouscameron @rafecameronsgirfriend
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lunajay33 ¡ 3 days ago
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The Farmers Daughter
•🩷🪽🏹•
Summary: The group finds their way to the Greene families farm and the quiet daughter catches a certain archers attention in more ways than he’d like to admit
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader
Content: Age Gap, PinV, Praise, Sneaking around, Female receiving oral
•Masterlist•
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The day the group came to the farm it felt like everything in me changed, they were nice and added a bit of drama to my families lives but they also helped us too
But when I laid eyes on Daryl, seeing him pull up infront of the house on his motorcycle ignited something deep in me that I’ve never felt before
They’ve been here a week already and it already felt like they were part of our family, daddy wasn’t too fond of them at first but he was slowly coming around
As the group went about their daily lives around their little camp I sat with Maggie cleaning some peaches we had just picked as I noticed Daryl walk by his eyes lingering on me the whole time he passed and it made my heart jolt and my legs weak
“He’s too old for you honey” Maggie said next to me as she nudged me with her arm breaking me out of the trance
I shrugged my shoulders not caring much for her input I’m 23 I’m not a child I can make my own decisions
I picked up a clean peach and made my way past the other towards his tent further out, not entirely sure what my plan was but I’m sick of this burning desire that aches for him
As I walk to his little camp I see him sat there around where he’d have fires at night, his eyes caught mine as he looked up at me
“What’re ya doin out here?” I wasn’t one for words much, ever since i was young I didn’t speak much but around him I wanted to tell him everything I was feeling
I bit into my peach and starting walking into the tree line as I wiggled a finger seductively for him to follow me
Not long after I hear his steps crunching leaves, my heart is hammer as I finally stop and lean back against a tree, as I look at him he’s mere inches away I can smell his godly scent that drives me crazy
“It’s dangerous tryna get me all to yerself out in the woods darlin” he groans as he grips my waist
“Maybe I like the danger” I whisper just wanting to taste his lips on mine
“Good ya do things ta me, never felt like this fer no one, just wanna take ya everywhere” his lips trail up my neck sending shivers down my spine
“Please Daryl, it hurts” he laughs
“Show me where Angel” I take his hand and lead it under my little skirt right to my soak panties hearing him groan
“Already wet and haven’t even done nothin”
“Help me” I grind against his hand as he starts rubbing against my clit
“Ya sure ya want this out in the woods?” He says between heated kisses
“I don’t care where I just need you Daryl, I wanna feel you”
“I’ll be gentle with ya”
He gets on his knees and drags down my little skirt as I threw my shirt to the side leaving me in only my tiny white panties with a pink bow on the front
He looks up at me like I hung the moon
“Fuck yer beautiful” he hooks his fingers in my panties and painful slowly pulls them down quickly his mouth is against me, his tongue flicking against my clit as his fingers gently pushed into me, the mix of pain and pleasure was overwhelming but god so good
I run my hand through his hair gripping it as I try to contain my moans and whimpers
“So good oh my god, I’m gonna cum D” he groans and the vibrations send me over the edge as I scream out in bliss
“Taste so good peach” he praises as he whispers in my ear
“I’ve never felt that before” I huff exhausted
“Well I’ve got more in store for us, are ya gonna be a good girl and let me take ya here, right now, on the forest floor”
“Yes please I’ll be good”
He lifts me up and gently lays me down on the cool leaf covered earth and hovers over me
“Take it off” I whine as I push his vest back but he stiffens
“It’s okay if you don’t want to” I say gently and he nods as he slowly kisses me, the whole mood changed from rushed and rough to slow and meaningful
He pushes his pants and boxers down to his knees and leans back down over me, I feel him drag his dick up and down my folds making me crazy
“Please put it in” he grins as he slowly pushes in as I let out a whine, the stretch was exhilarating, he was all around me it was almost hard to focus
“God ya feel so good, ya doing okay” he sighs out as he finally bottoms out
“I’m okay, god we should’ve done this way before, it’s like you were made for me D” he was like an angel sent to me during these horrid times
His thrust start off slow but quickly get faster as he leans back and holds up my hips hitting the right spot to make me see stars
“Oh Daryl right there, oh god” his hand comes down and quickly rubs my clit and that’s when the damn bursts
“That’s its baby, squeeze me so tight, where do ya want me ta cum” he says hurried as he was near
“In me please I wanna feel all of it” soon his cum is deep in me warm as he slowly pulls out feeling that drip down my legs
“Mmmm look at ya yer mine now peach”
I finally had Daryl Dixon and I’m never letting him go
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Everything Taglist: @bigbaldheadname @fluffy-dixon @imadisneyprincessiswear
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konpeitonom ¡ 2 days ago
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first time with college grant curly.
nsfw — lowercase intended ^_^
fem reader—
requests are open and heavily encouraged, i write for every mw character ^.^
notes; college curly back in my head again.. sorry if this is short. i did like half a few days ago and just needed to finish it up now. i accidentally deleted the ask to this i am so so sorry anon out there..
nsfw under the cut! minors do not read
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— he would wait for you to suggest it. he doesn’t want you to feel pressured to do so. maybe he’d bring the topic up as a way for you to sort of.. tell him how you feel on it? your comfort comes first.
— when the time comes though, he’s all romantic about it. he wants to give a good impression, wants you to want it as much as he does. maybe you guys are out on a little weekend trip, or jimmy decides to go for a few days. whatever it is, he wants you two to be alone.
— he’d tease you just a little on the undergarments you decide to wear.. like, “oh, picked this all out for me, yeah? that’s cute.” .. would laugh as you push his face away in embarrassment. he just can’t help but wanna poke fun at you, just a little! i’d ease any tension, for sure.
— would kiss you in just the right areas.. would ask over and over if you want this- if it’s too much, too little. it might seem overbearing but you’ll just have to push through it.
— he’d eat you out before fucking you. i think. it’s just really intimate for him. please grab at his hair, shove him further, push your thighs together, it encourages him.
— his foreplay is really good, exceptionally so. he likes the sight of you all soaked before he even puts his dick in, really, it gets him so hard.
— he’ll ask constantly if this is what you want, if he’s going too fast and such. he tries to be gentle but to be honest with himself, he’s a bit pent up.. he’s the kind of guy that once he starts even talking to a girl he likes, he’ll avoid stuff like hookups and one night stands..
— whispers sweet nothings, obviously. tells you how pretty you look, especially like that. that you’re doing so well, that he’s lucky to be able to do this with you.
— errrr read my nsfw alphabet, i think his dick is on the larger end. he’s aware of this and will let you decide if it’s something you can take well or not. he’ll be very gentle, promise!
— he’d stop being so lovey after the first round. i mean, he’s not going to be mean but he has been waiting for this. waiting to take you as his. and he hopes you’d be okay with that.
— “fuck, you can take it like this, right?” he’d ask.. as he’s literally splitting you open.
— he’d jerk off infront of you if you couldn’t take anymore.. his sex drive would probably be on the much higher end at this age. there’s something so erotic about it. he’d like to watch you play with yourself too!
— afterwards he’d make sure to reassure you that there’s no pressure to add sex as a regular thing in your relationship.. that he’s okay with it being a once in a while thing, despite how he acted.
— great aftercare! prepares a nice bath for you both. makes sure to have a conversation again with where you both stand. he doesn’t wanna mess things up.
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bigkissbutch ¡ 2 days ago
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A woman stands in the doorway. A hazy vision from across the room, you can barely make out her shape at first; tall, broad, slender. You try to ask her how you got here, who she is, why she’s doing this; a panic rises in your throat with each word that escapes your lips. She waits for you to tire yourself as she scans the details of the room.
After a minute of silence, she speaks.
“Do you like your room, darling?”
Her voice is gentle and raspy.
“I set it up just the same as yours previous. I thought it might help you adjust.”
She steps towards you, and into the light cast by the tableau of sky above. She’s wearing a shirt whose buttons ever so slightly glint and twinkle at you in the moonlight. Her gaze is studying and impersonal as she squats down just out of your reach. You plead and beg and she waits again for silence. However, this time you do not give it to her.
You scream. You beg. You do not like it, it isn’t what you want, you want to leave.
She just watches your tantrum, almost confused. Eventually, she stands and leaves, and you are left back alone.
You notice her attention to detail. A blanket like mom made for you. A photo of you and an ex up on the wall in a hand-painted frame they made.
Time passes. You’re hoarse, and tired. Your eyes glaze over yet again.
Click
The latch again. She returns with a plate of food.
The smell fills the room. As much as you might hate to admit it, it’s delicious. She brings it just within your reach. You eat with vigour, and as you do, she reaches out and touches your hair.
You swat at her this time, and she deftly slides the meal away from you.
“Now darling, I know this transition is hard, but I think it’ll be better for both of us if you learn to cooperate.”
You go back to screaming. She takes your plate and leaves.
Click
After a while in the stillness, you pass out.
When you wake, she is lying next to you, and her lips are almost touching yours. She smells of cigarettes and cologne. You pull away with a start. She looks hurt.
“Please, I’m just trying to give you something better than you had out there, just let me.” Her tone is almost pleading, cracks forming in her demeanour. You back away from her as far as your chain will allow, and cry at her. Your mind is hazy, sleep-deprived and starved. You manage out that she will never give you anything better than freedom, and she should just let you go. She slinks out again.
You don’t see her again for two weeks, just plates of food slid through a slot in the door. Each one has a note from her, asking if you’ll just love her back. You are unrelenting in your refusal. You tear up every one.
When she finally returns, it’s different. There’s a fumble at the latch before it
Click
opens. Her usually composed outfit and demeanour is traded for a wife beater and boxers that reveal a scrawny frame. In her hand, a pistol. As she steps into the light, her face is red and tear-streaked; her composure was just as fake as the moon above her.
She points the gun in her hand towards the bed, and sobs to you.
“I thought you’d be different, I really did. Or maybe I thought I could be? I tried so hard this time. I did everything right.”
You scream. She points the gun towards the photo in the hand-made frame.
“Am I not enough?”
BANG.
The gunshot is loud. Glass scatters the floor. Your ears ring.
You begin to plead. It barely registers. She wraps herself in the blanket like mom made.
She points the gun towards the sky, the moon.
“I swear, I’ll do better next time. I’m sorry it didn’t work out for us.”
You can barely hear her.
BANG.
The room is plunged into darkness. You can barely see. You can barely here the sounds of her approach.
You feel her hand grip your wrist and the barrel of the gun press into your chest. She looms over you. You can’t make out words through the ringing in your ears. You’re apologizing now, but she doesn’t seem to notice.
The gun is pointed up into your jaw.
She leans in for a kiss. You taste the salt of her tears on her lips, look at the perfect, awful clarity in her eyes, and hear her sob out an apology.
And then, you hear nothing at all.
This is, I suppose you might say, a writing prompt. It's also an experiment, and an open invitation to anyone who would like to write and perhaps have me write back.
~
The fur lined steel cuff is custom fit, neither so tight that it cuts and bruises nor so loose that it shifts and chaifs. The chain is almost insultingly thin, it invites the misconception that it might be broken. The thick bolts that secures it to the concrete wall suggest otherwise.
The roof twinkles in a reasonable faxcimile of a clear night sky. The fake moon, hanging several meters above the floor, illuminates an enormous bed that dominates the room. The plump pillows are perfectly placed upon the luxiourious looking blankets. There is a palpable air of care. The creation of this room was an act of love, or perhaps misplaced devotion.
The perfection is almost eerie, each item entirely untouched, the blankets unruffled, the draws unoppened. And much like the eyes of the plush toys strategically scattered about the room the only occupant stares blankly at the wall. Unmoving, crosslegged, cuffed by the ankle. Until
*click*
The latch on the door
Eyes fly wide. A breath sharply inhaled.
The door opens
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xx-dinah-writing-xx ¡ 3 days ago
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Plunge
Daemon Targaryen x wife! Reader
angst with a happy ending
warning: death, angst, assault, murder, feral Daemon I guess, stab wounds
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The night was soft, filled with the gentle crackle of the hearth and the rhythmic sound of Daemon’s breathing beside you. His arm lay draped protectively over your swollen belly, his warmth grounding you in a world so often fraught with chaos. You felt safe in these quiet moments when it was just the two of you—and the life you carried within.
Daemon shifted beside you, his violet eyes opening lazily as the babe stirred under his palm. His lips curved into a small smile, rare in its tenderness. “Restless already,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. “Like their mother.”
You laughed softly, threading your fingers through his. “And their father. They’ll be unstoppable.”
He hummed in agreement, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “They’ll have your heart, though,” he said, his voice growing softer. “And your strength. They’ll be more than unstoppable—they’ll be extraordinary.”
But the quiet didn’t last.
The door to your chambers burst open with a deafening crash. Before you could even process the sound, shadows flooded the room—men cloaked in darkness, their faces obscured.
Daemon was on his feet in an instant, his reflexes as sharp as ever, but the assassins moved with precision. A heavy net reinforced with barbs was thrown over him, dragging him to the ground. Before he could reach for Dark Sister, three men pinned him down, chaining his arms behind his back.
“Daemon!” you screamed, sitting up in bed, your heart pounding. But rough hands grabbed you, yanking you away from the covers.
“Let her go!” Daemon bellowed, his voice a roar of pure rage. He thrashed against the net, his muscles straining as the barbs tore into his skin. “Don’t touch her!”
You struggled, panic surging through you as the assassin dragged you across the room. “Daemon!” Your voice trembled, your hands clawing at the arm restraining you.
“Hold him down,” one of the assassins commanded coldly.
They forced Daemon to his knees, his head wrenched upward so he couldn’t look away. He locked eyes with you, and for the first time, you saw something in them that terrified you more than anything else. Fear.
“Are you hurt?” he rasped, his voice hoarse and desperate.
You shook your head frantically, tears streaming down your face. “Daemon, please—please do something!”
“I will,” he swore, his voice cracking. “I’ll kill them all. Just hold on, love. I’ll get us out of this.”
But even as he spoke, the assassin holding you forced you to your knees, a dagger gleaming in his hand.
“The Rogue Prince has spilled enough blood,” the leader of the assassins said, his voice devoid of emotion. “It’s time he learns what it feels like to lose what he loves most.”
Daemon’s struggles grew frantic, his body twisting against the chains with such force that the metal bit deep into his skin. Blood dripped onto the floor, but he didn’t care. “Take me!” he shouted, his voice breaking with desperation. “Whatever you want, take it from me! Just leave her and the child alone!”
The assassin ignored him, pressing the blade against your belly.
“Daemon,” you sobbed, your entire body trembling. “Please, make them stop. Please, I’m so scared…”
“Don’t touch her!” Daemon roared, his voice shaking the walls. “If you hurt her, I’ll—”
The blade plunged in before he could finish.
You screamed, the sound ripping from your throat in raw, agonized terror. Pain radiated through your body, blinding and all-consuming. Blood spilled onto the floor, warm and sticky beneath you.
Daemon’s scream was inhuman, a guttural roar of anguish that echoed through the room. “No!” He thrashed violently, his eyes wide with horror as he watched the dagger twist deeper into your flesh. “Stop it! Stop it, you bastards!”
You clutched at your belly, sobbing uncontrollably as the assassin pulled the blade out and stabbed again. “Daemon…” you gasped, your voice trembling. “The babe—”
“You’ll be fine!” he shouted, his voice breaking with desperation. “The babe will be fine! Just—just hold on, my love!”
But the pain was too much, and your vision blurred. You collapsed to the floor, your body trembling as the blood pooled beneath you.
The assassins released you, their task complete, and turned to leave.
Daemon’s fury erupted. With a final, savage roar, he broke free of his chains, the metal snapping under the sheer force of his rage. He didn’t even reach for a weapon—he tore into the men with his bare hands, his grief and wrath transforming him into a beast. Blood sprayed across the room as he dispatched them one by one, his movements brutal and unrelenting.
When the last man fell, Daemon dropped to his knees beside you. “No, no, no…” His hands hovered over your body, trembling, unsure of where to touch without causing you more pain. “Love, stay with me. Please.”
“Daemon…” you whispered weakly, your eyes fluttering open. Tears streamed down your face as you reached for him.
“I’m here,” he said, his voice cracking as he cradled you in his arms. “You’ll be all right. I’ll get help. Just—just stay with me, all right? Don’t leave me.”
You sobbed, clutching at his tunic. “The babe… Daemon, the babe…”
His heart shattered at the words. He pressed his forehead to yours, his tears falling onto your bloodied skin. “Don’t think about that now. Just breathe, my love. Stay with me.”
The pain in your body was unbearable, but you clung to his voice, his presence. “I’m sorry…” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
“Don’t you dare apologize,” he choked out, his voice fierce even through his tears. “This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault.”
The maesters arrived minutes later, summoned by the chaos. They worked frantically to stop the bleeding and stabilize you, their hands steady even as Daemon hovered like a storm, pacing and shouting demands.
Hours passed before the maester approached him, his face grave.
“She will live,” he said, and Daemon nearly collapsed with relief. But the maester hesitated, his gaze lowering. “The heir… the wounds were too severe. I’m sorry, my prince.”
Daemon’s breath caught, his relief turning to ash. He turned back to you, lying pale and weak on the bloodied bed, and the weight of the loss crushed him.
When you awoke, Daemon was at your side, his hand gripping yours tightly. His violet eyes, usually so sharp and defiant, were filled with unshed tears.
“Our child…” you whispered, your voice trembling.
Daemon’s jaw tightened, and he shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he rasped, his voice barely audible.
Daemon hadn’t left your side since the maesters stitched your wounds and wrapped your broken body in layers of linen. The pain was constant—every movement, every breath a reminder of what had been taken. But worse than the physical pain was the ache in your heart, the unbearable emptiness where your child had once been.
Daemon blamed himself.
He stayed with you day and night, refusing food and drink until the maesters forced him to take something. His hands trembled whenever he touched you, guilt pouring off him in waves. When you finally awoke after a restless night, you found him sitting beside the bed, his bloodshot eyes staring at the floor.
“Daemon…” Your voice was hoarse, weak.
He looked up sharply, his gaze softening as it met yours. “How are you feeling?” he asked quietly, though you could hear the strain in his voice.
You hesitated, your hand drifting to your stomach. The bandages were thick, and the faintest movement sent sharp, stabbing pain through your core. But it wasn’t the wounds that made you cry. It was the loss.
Daemon’s jaw clenched, and he reached for your hand, holding it tightly. “I failed you, both,” he rasped, his voice heavy with self-loathing. “I swore to protect you, to protect them, and I—”
“You didn’t fail me,” you interrupted, though your voice wavered. “Daemon, you fought for me. You fought for us.”
“But it wasn’t enough,” he said bitterly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I wasn’t enough. If I’d been faster, stronger—” He broke off, shaking his head.
Daemon’s breath hitched, and he leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours. “I’ll never leave you,” he swore, his voice trembling. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you again. I’ll protect you with everything I have, for as long as I live.”
From that night on, Daemon changed.
When you were finally strong enough to leave the bed, he hovered over you like a shadow, his every move dictated by the fear of losing you again. He refused to let you walk unassisted, his arm always wrapped around your waist as he guided you, slow and cautious.
And at night, he no longer slept beside you with an arm draped protectively over your belly. Instead, he lay on top of you, his body curled around yours like a shield. You’d wake in the middle of the night to the sound of his breathing, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his head resting over your heart as if to reassure himself you were still there.
“Daemon,” you whispered one night, your voice soft in the darkness.
He stirred, his eyes opening to find you staring at him. “What is it, love?”
“You don’t have to do this,” you said gently. “You don’t have to… watch over me every second.”
His jaw tightened, and he shook his head. “Yes, I do,” he said firmly. “I’ll never let anyone touch you again. If I have to stay awake for the rest of my life, I will.”
“Daemon—”
“You don’t understand,” he interrupted, his voice low and raw. “I almost lost you. I couldn’t protect our child, but I’ll be damned if I fail you again. You’re all I have now.”
Your heart ached at the grief in his voice. Gently, you cupped his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. “I’m still here,” you whispered. “I’m still with you, Daemon. But you can’t punish yourself forever.”
He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. “I don’t know how to stop,” he admitted. “I see it every time I close my eyes—what they did to you. The blood, your screams…” His voice broke, and he took a shuddering breath. “I can’t let my guard down again.”
“You didn’t let your guard down,” you said firmly. “You fought for me, Daemon. You saved me. And I need you to keep saving me—just not from shadows that aren’t there.”
He was silent for a long moment, his fingers tracing the faint scars on your arms and the bandages still wrapped around your stomach. Finally, he nodded, though you could see the fear still lingering in his eyes.
That night, he lay beside you instead of on top of you, though his arm never left your waist. His body was still tense, coiled as if waiting for an attack, but for the first time in days, he closed his eyes.
And though the scars on your body and heart would never fade, you knew you’d face them together.
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sirhamburrger ¡ 3 days ago
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cookies burning on an oven fire (oliver aiku x gn!reader)
oliver aiku is a master on the football pitch. in the kitchen, though? not so much. it doesn't mean you don't want him there, though. although it's been said many times, many ways // merry christmas to you || wc: 530 || tags/cw: mostly fluff, oliver is a hopeless baker, hurt/comfort in a flashback, oliver is annoying about calling football 'soccer', is it obvious i have only baked once in my life and don't remember anything about it, temp is in celsius not fahrenheit if you were wondering series m.list
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oliver smells like smoke. he doesn't smoke.
“right,” you sigh. “what happened?”
“i… put them in at 360 degrees for half the time.”
you raise an eyebrow. “okay, and what were my very specific instructions?”
your boyfriend flinches at your deceptively calm expression. 
“180forfifteenminutes.”
you let out a huff, defeated. “just stick to football next time, please.”
“okay, firstly,” oliver grabs your arm as you walk past him to the oven, pulling you backwards into him, burying his nose in your hair. you roll your eyes, but let him cling to you like an oversized koala. “soccer. not football. and-” he clasps his arms around your waist, squeezing you tight - “i'm not that bad at baking!”
“explain that fiasco, then,” you retort, not unkindly. you shuffle forward slowly, hindered by the weight of him leaning on you.
“älskling, i can do other things too, y'know?”
“like boiling an egg or putting frozen bratwurst in the microwave?” you deadpan.
“touché,” oliver concedes. 
with you, he does the walk of shame over to the kitchen, where the bitter tang of burnt gingerbread still lingers in the air; a testament to his failure. you stare into the oven. in just six and a half minutes, they've gone from tantalising cookie dough to charred lumps of sadness.
you make him clear the oven out, and he makes you coffee afterwards. you sip it slowly - he’s made it just how you like it - and decide he’s forgiven. just this once.
“mein schatz?”
“hm?”
“remember the first time we made cookies together?”
you feel the corners of your lips twitch upwards.
“yeah. it went pretty well, unlike today.”
even as you say the words, you feel your heart constrict ever so slightly. it's a fond memory, yes, but it wasn't all good. 
you recall two christmases ago, when oliver had showed up at your door after the u20 match against blue lock. his then-girlfriend had just left him, and he was sitting silently in your kitchen not saying anything at all. after all, what is a young soccer prodigy to do after his first bad breakup, if not seek out his best friend? 
that day, you baked cookies with him in this very kitchen, spiced with cinnamon and topped with lemon zest. he smiled, then, and you couldn't help but think that you'd never seen anything so beautiful.
it was a long time after that before you finally became what you are today. but you knew, from then on, that it would be the start of something new. 
and now he's your boyfriend of almost a year who takes you to his games, buys you flowers and burns your christmas cookies.
it takes a few gentle taps on your hand before you finally register he's pushed something across the counter to you.
“i checked the oven just now,” he says with a twinkle in his eye, “and these two look a little more edible than the others.”
the two gingerbread people sit on a plate, fused together like they're holding hands. he breaks them apart, taps his cookie against yours. you giggle at his antics.
“to us.”
he smiles, taking your hand in his.
“to us.”
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a/n: through the writing of this i have been forced to like oliver
taglist: @anglefish3008, @standcom (open, leave a comment on any post in this series to be added!)
bllk masterlist || general masterlist
Š sirhamburrger 2024
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archivequinn ¡ 1 day ago
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Can you please do an eddie angst? I love your fluff. I'm in the mood to read angst.
I've never tried angst before, but I hope you like it!
Summary: You and Eddie are breaking up.
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On a cold winter evening, the wind was fiercely rattling the window frames, the city was shrouded in darkness, but inside the house, it was warm and filled with excitement for Eddie’s arrival. You read the postcard he had sent once more: “I’ll be there tomorrow night, princess. Wait for me. I miss you so much.” The words, written in Eddie’s messy handwriting, made you feel as though you could hear his voice. You had been apart for a month; such a long separation was unusual for you, and tonight would be a reunion where everything would fall back into place.
Finally, you heard the sound of an engine outside the door. Your heart began to race, a mixture of excitement and nervousness. It felt as though your feet weren’t touching the ground. You ran to the door, your hands trembling slightly.
Eddie was there. His face looked tired, but the sparkle in his eyes and the scent of the wind clinging to him spoke volumes. He seemed like a man who had let go of all his burdens and was now overflowing with you. Smiling, he took a step toward you. “I’ve missed you so much…” he murmured, his voice breaking slightly. Then he opened his arms and hugged you tightly.
His breath brushed past the side of your neck, warming you like a gentle breeze, and the rhythm of his heartbeat mingled with yours. The hug lasted so long that it felt as if all the troubles in the world had disappeared in that embrace. Tears welled up in your eyes; his warmth, his scent, his presence enveloped you completely. “Eddie…” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
He whispered back, “I know…”
You went inside. Eddie’s eyes wandered around the room, as if he was trying to recall a memory from a long time ago. “I even missed the smell of this house,” he said with a slight smile. Hats and scarves piled in a corner, the small details seemed to remind him of your shared story. He took you in his arms again, pressed his lips to your forehead, and closed his eyes. In that moment, time truly seemed to stand still. It was just the two of you; the noise, chaos, and confusion of the world were nothing more than a distant echo.
Finally, Eddie pulled back slightly, though his hands still rested on your waist. Looking at your face, he began to speak excitedly. “I have so much to tell you!” he said, his eyes gleaming. He talked about his adventures on the road, the places he had seen, the excitement on stage. “One time, a light bulb burst in the middle of a performance, and the whole set almost fell apart, but I shouted so much that people thought it was part of the show!” His laughter lit up the room, but a growing unease was building inside you.
During dinner, you noticed that Eddie kept glancing at the clock. At first, it seemed insignificant—maybe he was tired, or something was on his mind. But the peace of the evening gradually turned into tension. Finally, Eddie leaned slightly toward you, taking a deep breath. He put his fork down and placed his hands over yours.
“Listen,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. In his eyes, there was both happiness and deep indecision. “There’s something I need to tell you.” He paused for a moment, biting his lip as if weighing his words. Then, taking a deep breath, he continued. “I’ve received a new offer. A big tour… but I need to start immediately. I have to leave in a few hours.”
He looked at you, and you tried to understand the turmoil in his eyes. “This has been my dream. You know that, don’t you? You’re proud of me, right?” he said, his voice fragile like shattered glass.
“Of course, Eddie,” you replied, forcing a smile.
Eddie’s words trailed off, and there was an intensity behind his gaze. You looked into his eyes, but the words stuck in your throat, tangled with the weight of your emotions. “How long is the tour?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Eddie took a deep breath, placing his hands on the edge of the table, his eyes cast downward. “A year,” he said. His voice wavered, and the strong, energetic man you knew now seemed like a boy struggling to find the right words. “We’ll be apart for a year.”
Those words felt like they had sucked all the oxygen out of the room. You felt a heaviness in your chest, struggling to breathe. When you looked into Eddie’s eyes, you saw both determination and fear. “Eddie…” you began, but couldn’t continue. The words collided in your mind, replaced by the sorrow you felt.
“Eddie, how can we handle such a long separation? A month was already so hard; a year… it feels impossible,” you said, your eyes filling with tears. You hadn’t expected them to come so quickly, but you couldn’t hold them back in front of Eddie.
Eddie reached out and held your hands. “I know. But I have to do this; I’m doing this for us. You’ve always been with me in this dream. I can’t do it without you,” he said, his voice cracking. In his eyes, there was both a plea and a deep guilt.
“Eddie, you say you’re doing this for us, but how meaningful can it be without us?” you asked. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you forced yourself to keep speaking. “You’re everything to me. But to not see you, to miss you, to think of you every day for a whole year… it will destroy me.”
A look of pain appeared on Eddie’s face, as if you had taken a piece of his heart and placed it in his hands. He ran his fingers through his hair, lowering his head. “I can’t do this without you,” he murmured, his voice so soft it was almost inaudible. But then he raised his eyes to meet yours, a flicker of hope dancing within them. “But maybe we can figure it out together. I want you to come with me. Let’s go on this tour together. I want to live my dreams with you by my side. Please, think about it.”
The moment you heard his proposal, your heart clenched with both joy and sorrow. The thought of being with Eddie, waking up every morning to his smile, warmed you for a brief moment. But then reality reminded you of itself. “Eddie, no… I can’t do that,” you said, your voice cracking. “I have a life here. A job, a routine. Leaving everything behind to be with you sounds like a beautiful dream, but… that’s not how things work in real life.”
Eddie’s eyes widened, as if your words had deeply wounded him. “Don’t I mean anything to you?” he asked, his voice fragile and desperate. “I don’t want to live this dream without you. But if you’re not with me, living while missing you this much will tear me apart.”
“Eddie…” you said, your voice choking amidst sobs. “You mean everything to me. But sometimes love isn’t enough. Sometimes the realities of life overshadow our dreams.”
Eddie remained silent for a moment, as though your words echoed in his mind. Tears streamed down his face, completely breaking the strong mask he usually wore. He reached out for you, but you stayed where you were, your eyes locked on his. “I love you,” he said, his voice cracking like shattered glass. “But how can we make this work? We have to find a way… I can’t do this without you.”
You brought your hands to your face, wiping away tears that only returned immediately. “I know you’ll never stop loving me,” you said, your voice trembling. “And I’ll always love you, too. But maybe loving each other isn’t enough to change our situation right now. And maybe… maybe this is the best we can do for now.”
Eddie took a step back, the desperation and heartbreak on his face resonating throughout the room. He closed his eyes, his lips moving silently as though searching for words but saying nothing. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he took a trembling breath and opened his eyes to look at you again. “I don’t want to say goodbye to you,” he said. “I never want to say goodbye to you.”
In that moment, time seemed to stop. As you gazed at each other in silence, everything felt both unbearably heavy and inexplicably light. Eddie wrapped his arms around you once more, holding you so tightly it felt like he was trying to pull you into his very being. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice breaking with sobs. “I’ll always love you.”
In that embrace, as you felt each other’s heartbeats, you both wished this moment could last forever. But you knew; even if this wasn’t a goodbye, nothing would be the same after this.
Eddie held you for a while longer, but the embrace no longer carried warmth—it carried a weight. You both knew this was the final connection before you let go of each other. Eddie’s breath was uneven, and each time it hit your shoulder, your heart broke a little more. His hands moved gently over your back, as if trying to etch the feeling of this touch into his memory.
Finally, he pulled back slowly. His eyes were red, yet they still held a deep resolve. He cupped your face with his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears on your cheeks. “Princess,” he said, his voice low and trembling, “I want you to take care of yourself. Promise me, okay? Wrap your scarf if it’s cold, don’t catch a chill at night. Don’t forget to eat properly. And… please, no matter what, try to be happy.”
You could only nod. You wanted to speak, to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. The tears streaming down your face silenced you. Eddie’s eyes carried the pain of a farewell that would last a lifetime. He looked away for a moment, his gaze falling to the floor.
He reached for the chain around his neck, a guitar pick hanging from it. It was his favorite pick—the one he used on stage, the one that reminded you of him more than anything else. His hands trembled slightly as he removed the chain. He held the pick in his palm for a moment, looking at it before meeting your gaze again. “I’ve carried this with me everywhere. But now, it needs to stay with you,” he said.
He placed the chain around your neck, his fingers lingering on the pendant for a moment before pulling away gently. “Always keep this with you. If you ever feel lonely, let this necklace bring you back to me,” he said, his eyes glistening with tears. Your hands instinctively reached for the necklace, and as the coolness of the pick touched your palm, the knot in your throat tightened even more.
“But Eddie,” you said, your voice muffled by sobs, “Will we ever see each other again?” The words spilled out desperately, tears streaming uncontrollably down your face.
Eddie paused for a moment, looking straight into your eyes. The depth in his gaze carried a thousand words he wanted to say, but only a few made it past his lips. “I promise you,” he said, his voice broken but resolute. “No matter where I am, I’ll always think of you. I’ll always write to you. I’ll send you a postcard from every place I visit. Even if you forget me, those postcards will remind you of me.”
Those words gave you a small sense of solace, but your heart only grew heavier. Eddie took your hands in his and held them tightly. “But no matter what, you’ll always be here for me,” he said, placing a hand over his chest. “You’ll always be with me.”
Eddie slowly released your hands and let his eyes roam over you one last time. It was as if he was trying to etch every detail of you into his memory, knowing he might never see you again. “I love you,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.
Then he turned away. For a moment, he hesitated, as though he wanted to turn back and say something, but he kept moving forward. His steps were heavy but determined. You stood frozen in place, tears filling your eyes as you watched him go.
When Eddie reached the door, your breath caught, hoping he might turn back. But he didn’t. He opened the door and stepped outside. The air was freezing, the cold wind brushing against your face as you whispered after him, “Eddie…” But your voice was swallowed by the wind.
The door closed slowly. You ran to the window for one last glimpse of him. Outside, as snowflakes fell, you saw Eddie’s back. He was leaving. His steps quickened, as though he was afraid that stopping would make him turn around. His hands were shoved into his coat pockets, his head bowed. And you stood there behind the glass, tears streaming down your face, feeling your heart shatter.
Eddie didn’t look back. But you knew; you could feel that he was crying too.
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credit for divider: @/strangergraphics taglist: @multyfangirl @nicholaschavezslut69 @t-folklore13
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