#guess this is the moment where we fuck around and find out

[glendover]

how the late shift at the library will go for me

[fionnaskyborn]

one day when i am not busy dying on the inside and out i will write an honest-to-god essay about how people are, for the lack of a better descriptor but simultaneously for the lack of a more perfect one, too edgy about five.

[floorpancakes]

i refuse to let clamp off the hook for underutilising himawari's fucking fascinating character setup and traits but on a less serious level im obsessed with the concept of her as an instigator of chaos.

like she's way less airheaded than she seems and it doesn't come off like Default Airhead Girl Behaviour or even Default Girl Companion That Ships Her Friends primarily (like not as hard as some other series by comparison I mean she's very I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE by default) specifically she just seems like someone that thoroughly enjoys being a little shit in a sincere way and giggling at her dumbass friends and has a shade of high emotional intelligence about it all. like she's just girl of all time. she's i don't know where im going with this just take this low effort meme from when i watched the holic stage play on youtube this isn't a coherent thought it's like 2am ill come up with better thoughts later

[screampied]

‘ ONE OF HIS GIRLSSSS ! ,

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. toji ends up finding out maybe his best friend's daughter isn’t so innocent after all once he walks in on you and your precious 12k viewers. he grows amused by your little side hustle as a cam girl. but actually, maybe having him as a special guest wasn’t so bad. (girl it was)

wc. 6k

warnings. fem! reader, vōyerism, dad's best friend! toji, age gap (reader is over twenty), unprotected, praise, dirty talk, squírting, cunnílingus, slight dumbification, impact play, size kink, spit.

dbf! toji masterlist

“guys, i’m serious,” you’d utter, your monitor staring right back at you — a full live audience of over twelve thousand eyes listening to you speak. you were cooped up in your room, slouching on your chair with your legs pressed together. “he’s totally real. we even almost got caught one time.”

you were referring to your dad’s best friend, toji…

just muttering his name aloud made you feel all sorts of tingles. oh, to think how that 'one time' was just about three days ago. you still remember everything like it just happened, the intoxicating taste of toji’s lips, his unforgettable loud cologne scent, how fucking mean he was, you missed him, who were you even kidding. last time you checked, him and your father went out somewhere. you didn’t bother to care where, probably fishing or something.

skimming through the plethora of donations with filthy questions, thirsty provocative questions that desperately craved your attention, you read one, “how is he in bed, oh—well,” and you squeeze your thighs before re-adjusting your screen. “he’s okay. i had to fake my orgasms a few times though, figures ‘cause he’s kinda old.”

“oh yeah?”

as if on cue, there toji stood—right outside your doorway, hands buried in his deep roots of pockets and that same unreadable expression. he’s sending you straight daggers, you crane your neck to glance at him before you panic, “uh, i’ll talk to you guys later.”

“nah keep that shit on, girl,” he shakes his head, trodding his bare feet towards you. you mentally face palm. you could have sworn he was out somewhere with your father. “just when i thought ya couldn’t get even freakier,” he mutters, and he’s now behind you—green irises peering at your monitor. the chat suddenly spams with some of your audience lusting over toji, wondering if he’s a special guest. “heyyy,” he says to the screen, his voice was a pitchy low and then you gasp once he throws an arm around you. “is he a special guest?” and then he turns to you with a sly grin. “i don’t know, princess . . am i?”

“. . . i mean i guess,” you speak, not even realizing how your tone softens a bit. this always happened, whenever you were just a few feet away from toji, you’d feel so tense. it’s officially been a week since the two of you were screwing around—you hadn’t gotten caught, at least you think you haven’t gotten caught. the thrill of it all though, it was enticing. he eyes your little set up and he’s amused more than anything. “this is the guy i was telling you guys about,” you avert your dilated pupils back towards the bright screen. “this is . . . toji.”

“heh yo,” he scoffs at the screen with a greet, seeing how your confidence fades the moment he’s in the room with you. toji leans beside you, eyeing the lewd comments before one catches his eye. “tell him to turn around. what for?”

you sheepishly grin at the webcam, knowing some of your aroused fans wanted to take a quick peek at toji’s ass. to be fair, you couldn’t exactly blame them. you stare a bit yourself, and it was definitely. . . something.

three new tips from mod gojoclitoru: girl bye he looks like he doesn’t shower

wormfucker69: he looks like the guy who works @ my cleaners lol

shokostrapdestroyer: Where’s Shoko ?????

kanyeastinfection: Soooo hawt ;)

iloveosamudazai: i miss nanamin

“how come y’er all shy? i heard what you’ve been saying ‘bout me, y’know,” toji mumbles. he stands tall, cracking his neck towards the left. his entire frame, he was always so handsome. you take a moment to glance up at him, his perfectly chiseled physique. he looked like he was about to head to the gym, he had on a simple wife beater with dingy grey sweats. his gaze he had towards you was purely tantalizing. “. . ah,” he inches closer towards you, bending down as you sat on the office chair, getting right up close to your face. “why don’t you repeat that last bit for me. you fake your orgasms with this old man?”

“i didn’t ….” you trail off, trying to come up with some excuse. suddenly, it felt hot. you felt hot.

your heart starts to race the more he stared you down. the chat was going at a much more rapid speed, it’s like your viewer count doubled the moment toji entered. then you thought—maybe this would do you some good, having him as a special guest didn’t seem so bad.

he lightly grabs your chin, making you peer straight into his eyes. “i stay away from you for three days ‘n it seems like you forgot how to act.”

toji did have a point precisely, for the last three days you basically had the entire house to yourself. him and your father went out to some business trip, you missed him though.

of course, if you tagged along you’d be sure you’d both get caught so you just offered to watch over the house. it was as if the more time you spent with toji, the more you started to feel something.

you didn’t know what it was, it was hard to put into detail, put into pure words—but you knew for certain, you didn’t wanna stop seeing him. it was spring break after all…

“i meant what i said,” you mutter.

while returning his gaze, toji’s eyes widen for a bit, off guard by your sudden switch of attitude. you had a bit of a plan, you decided if you played along, your sweet thousands of fans would eat it up. and they were, the repetitive high-pitch sounds of constant donations rang through your ears before you continue to speak. “i faked everything, toji.”

his eyes linger into you for a long time before he drags a thumb down your lip. “well shit. that so?” and his voice—it pitches a dangerous tune. you already start to feel your thighs squeeze together more tightly. “mhm,” he grunts, watching you nod your head in response. he scoffs to himself before grumbling. “maybe i should make it more real for you then.”

with such simple words, trust and believe he does.

toji’s way of making it more real was to simply have you ride his face, all in front of your audience too.

for some reason, you felt burning up coming to the sheer realization that literally all eyes were simply on you. a quick glance at your blue light monitor and the viewer count displayed a hefty whopping amount of 12,295. all you could think about it was the hefty bank you were about to make.

your legs quaver as toji’s laid flat on your old bed, having you take your seat right on his face — his breath is hot as he runs his tongue alongside your inner thighs before giving you a stare. “eyes down here, not them,” he snarls, and you moan once he spanks your pre-soaked clit, your panties still attached. “they aren’t about to fuckin’ eat you out, are they?”

“n—no,” you murmur out, looking down back at him and he slowly runs a fat thumb down your slit.

oh, you were soaked alright.

a cute little damp spot between the middle part of your underwear makes an appearance and he slides his tongue all against it. he’s so slow with it all, making sure to take his time to make you pout out for him. “toji,” you mumble, feeling your tummy sink in before you huff out a single breath. he’s still so attractive, even underneath you—a little yet nice amount of facial hair scatters near certain parts of his face. scattered specks of brief darkened hair near his sharp jaw paint his face like an empty canvas. you run a finger against his chin and he shoots you a sleazy grin. “hurry up, toji.”

dark eyes flicker back towards you before he gifts your sopping pussy a mean spank. “hurry up toji,” he mocks your tone. you melodically whimper, watching as he licks a single stripe between your covered slit. “shut the fuck up. ‘m gonna take my time with you since apparently you ‘fake’ everything.”

you couldn’t help but merely slip out a giggle, your comment really offended him in some way. obviously, you were joking though—you and toji both knew he knew how to snatch multiple orgasms out of you at once. he was quite a skilled man without question, with his tongue—his dick, literally anything.

although, you snap out of your salacious thoughts the moment you feel him latch his tongue against your folds. it took you a minute to realize your panties were already off, he practically ripped them off and he was already digging in. you whimper, hovering your weight over his face before staring at the lit up monitor.

BIGDICKKUNA: Even my domain has better camera quality than this

gojoclitoru: here sukuna go…

FOXYKITTEN2940: clean up aisle my pants >.<

you’re starting to grind against his face, a hand combing through his hair before your bite your lip. toji stares at you, dragging a thumb down your puffy slit before leaning back to spit on it. he was always such a sloppy man—no shame in the world. you’d feel yourself pulsate whenever he did that, departing his lips away from your cunt before collecting a good wad of saliva to coat your folds with such a sheeny translucent color.

squelch after squelch, undeniably you were sopping. his nose briefly prods against your nub and you whine once he finally starts to actually eat you out.

“f-fuckkk.” you’d breathe, intaking a sharp breath. sudden dizziness overtook you—a thrum escapes from your sheeny lips as you rock your hips forward. it was hypnotic, the way you move against his mouth. toji looked so pretty underneath you too. his eyes, so hooded and half lidded—such a hungry gaze, a starved animal. he starts tantalizingly slow at first, making sure to lay the flat of his tongue against your entrance before simply digging in.

side—to—side, his head continues to swiftly shift and move as he’s devouring his meal, a thumb continues to strum against your slick arousal before he starts to suck, suck, suck.

candy, a perfect way to describe your taste in toji’s humblest opinion. he could never get enough, a few long strands of his hair tickles against your thighs as he resumes his sloppy eating. “mhm. pull on it.” he says between hot breaths, and you feel a sudden fire ignite inside of you. you knew immediately he was referring to his hair. such ruffled, messy strands desperately awaiting to be tugged by your fingers.

so you do—you take a good grab, lightly yanking him forward and he grunts.

“. . harder,” he rasps, and he’s already starting to look blissed out. eyes all glazed over, you wriggle over his face before you feel a sudden shiver overtake you. you pull harder and his face goes right against your cunt. you sloppily swipe against his nose like a credit card and he smirks at you. “that’s what ‘m talking about. ride my face, girl.”

his words, his filthy vulgarly words guide you through it all.

each pulse makes you twitch even more—each breath that runs out your mouth feels like it’s going to be your last, especially with a tongue like toji’s. he makes sure not to miss a drop, slurping quite everything out of you. he was a man—not necessarily a clean one, but he was never scared of a little mess. you start to coat the bottom part of his chin with your slit, it’s glistening so much.

after a while, toji’s already drunk off of your sweetened taste. every few flicks of his tongue against your nub makes cute whimpers coo out your throat and you only tighten the grip against his hair.

“r-right there, ‘s good when you suck there, toji.”

“cause i know what the fuck ‘m doing.” he grumbles back, bringing his same thumb to slide down your slit. he repeats it again and again. smearing your own mess right back on you, only to clean it up. he was a messy man, and with a tasty pussy that you had—you only made him ten times messier.

he was never one to complain though, toji’s the type to never say thank you—he shows you how grateful he is, it involves with being between your legs.

toji fushiguro…

a sleazy man without a single care in the word, maybe messing around his with best friend’s daughter slash colleague was a bit taboo. but did he care—no, was he gonna stop doing it—no, was he perhaps catching feelings for you the more time he spends with you? were you catching feelings?

. . .

unanswered questions, even if you asked yourself that question, you honestly couldn’t even know how to reply. the two of you never really labeled anything, so this was just a simple spring break fling right?

once courses resume and you go back to your well prestige university your father got you into due to connections, that’d probably be the last you’d see of him. toji fushiguro, the man you’ve been screwing around with for the past almost two weeks. it’s almost safe to say that you started to get attached to his presence—sometimes it’s like the two of you didn’t even care if you got caught. there was literally a time where toji fingered you under the table during dinner.

that was . . embarrassing.

the way you were trying to withhold a conversation with your father—he’s just rambling you about what a boring day he had at the office and you’re over here gushing on his best friend’s fingers. you find yourself thinking about that specific moment all too well—as well as the various other ones, him fucking you on the hood of his car, in the living room, and even the bathroom—which your panties ended up getting found.

oops.

“told you to keep those fuckin’ eyes on me,” he hoarsely rasps—snapping you out of your lewd reminiscing fantasm. his tongue, it’s swirling all against your clit as you focus your attention back towards him. with two big hands, he holds your jerky hips steady—feeling you rut against his mouth before he feels you pulse right in his mouth. “yeah.” he mutters, bringing two digits to prod towards your slick entrance. you whine, feeling him slowly insert them with ease—so wet, he was almost in awe at how you were dripping like a faucet. not even a faucet could compare nor describe how sodden your sweet cunt was. each lap he makes with his tongue gets more filthy, it turns into sucking before you’re practically spasming all over again.

you moan, hands still tight and rigidly tangled within his strands before you take a quick peek at your laptop. so many eyes were on you—so many more eyes now, the count was steadily doubling, the donations you were receiving made your mouth nearly water. tip after tip, your pupils turned into green dollar signs. this was probably the most viewers you had in the entirety of your little cam girl side hustle.

all thanks to toji.

you’re getting close, it’s inevitable—especially with the way your hips continue to rock back and forth. a cute rhythm he got accustomed to, toji brings two rough hands towards the fat mounds of your ass before squeezing it. he was always a handsy man, feeling all over your body. green pools of eyes stare right at you as you’re intaking each staggering breath that escapes your spit-glossed lips. “c-close, toji,” you’d babble out, your knees almost buckle—a sudden twinge pouring into your lower abdomen before you mewl. “gonna—cum, gonna—”

“baby hold it,” he says sternly, the base in his voice never failing to make you wet. he breaks his lips away for a moment before he glances at the screen—an upside down position. “hm. chat, should the pretty girl finish early?”

your heart drops—you knew how many trolls you had in your audience, and before you could cutely tell him to just let you climax, he hums in amusement at the incoming flood of comments.

chososbootylicker29: Petition to have Toji oiled and cheeked up

zorosballswallower: NOOOOO

anonymoususer: dad?

gojoclitoru: lol no.

and with many others the comments continue to flood.

majority of the answers being no—you hated being edged, loathed it. especially with toji because he was so damn mean. he snickers, reading the responses upside down before you feel the two tips of his fingers shove way deep inside you. your back arches and you whine ore he holds your hips in place with a single hand. “looks like y’er little fans want you to wait pretty girl,” and you look down at him with a cute glare—his lips depart and his entire mouth from the very bottom of his chin was damp. even still, he looked so attractive. “cute. a glare ain’t gonna change nothing though,” and a pout shortly stretched against your lips as he runs his tongue near your frantic pulsing clit. he brings a spank to it and it makes you whine. “be a good girl ‘n wait a little longer.”

“i can’t,” you frown out, and that only earns another sharp spank towards your folds.

“yes you fuckin’ can,” and you start to whine once he stops eating you out. it felt so warm, all of a sudden the cold air wafts against your skin and you shudder. toji loves more than anything to spank your pussy whilst staring right into your eyes. “if i tell my girl to wait, she’s gonna wait.”

my girl…

for some reason, that made your pulsing ten times worse, a plethora of butterflies arise inside your stomach and you’re still just hovering over his face.

he palpates his fingers—not his tongue to rummage all inside your cunt, you frown cutely. you wanted his tongue, not his stubby thick fingers. although, the thing you wanted most was to finish. as you grind against his face, you feel his infamous scar run against your pussy and it tickles. it tickles in such a way that it drags out a sweet crying moan from you.

“t—toji,” you start to grow impatient. he’s just teasing you, blowing against your folds with warm breath, swiping his nose alongside your sopping entrance, anything but tasting you again. he likes seeing you like this, on the brink of tears because you got denied a climax. it started to come closer and closer until once it was finally there—you puff up your cheeks for a split second before moaning. “g-god, i can’t hold it. ‘m gonna cummm.”

“wait,” he utters in a husky rasp, watching as you quaveringly hover over his face—chin just soaked with your arousal, he licks the bottom of his lip before tittering at you. “you finish when i’m ready.”

“f-fuck you,” you whimper, and you end up cumming anyway—he’s taken aback but it only arouses him even more. the brat, oh the brat that you were. one of the many things he liked about you, you were submissive but not entirely—you had a backbone, you talked back to him, you even had the nerve to roll those pretty eyes at him.

it hits you like a semi-truck.

illegal full speed, the brakes were had to step on and you feel it just strike right into you at full force. your orgasm, you scoot your hips forward against his mouth and now he’s the one glaring at you. toji laps up all of you, two fingers spreading your clit apart before he spits on it again. “you just don’t listen, huh,” and his voice was even lower than it was before—a rich baritone lingering underneath it. you’re riding out your climax when he lightly shoves you on the bed.

in your mind, you’re thinking . .

finally, the good part.

toji grimaces at the cute smile that goes against your lips. you’re eager just as him— not to mention, it’s been three days since he’s touched you. “don’t get too excited, brat,” he grumbles with a scowl tugging the corners of his mouth. he plops onto the bed before staring down at you. “bend the fuck over for me. fake orgasm my ass.”

so blunt, you immensely comply—so impatient for him to just be inside of you.

the piles of donations triple by this point, and you try to take a peep at your screen before he spanks your ass. “ass up, face down little girl. don’t got all day.”

“sorryyy,” you giggle with a mere eye roll.

testing toji’s patience was always so fun for you. for whatever reason, getting on his nerves really turned you on. once you finally bend over for him, two hands grab the fats of your ass and you bite your lip once he prepares to align himself. you’re facing your bright lit screen.

the comments talking more about toji than you and you pout . . . figures though. he’s hot, no wonder all the attention would be on him instead of you.

with his right hand, he wraps it around his thick length before rubbing his tip against your pre-drenched entrance. he grunts, witnessing how your pussy tries to swallow him so easily…

you’re puckering, awaiting for him to stuff you full as you’re slump right into the mattress. “but sweetheart, y’er not sorry,” he grunts, smacking his fat tip against your slick folds. a soft mewl runs out the back of your throat before you arch just a bit more. with another spank, he snarls in a huff, “not gonna fuck ya that easy. y’er gonna have to use those manners if you wanna get what you want.”

“huh?”

“huh?” he mocks, kissing your ass with another spank from his palm. “you can’t hear? speak, girl. talk ‘ta me nice.”

glossy eyes of yours avert towards your screen, everyone’s lusting over toji and it only fuels his ego even more—you easily felt yourself throb, a pout never leaving your lips before you inhale.

“please . . ” you start, feeling him softly drag a hand against your curves, your physique. his touch always had you weak, taking in every part of your frame. all his . . just for these few weeks.

“please what?”

“please f—fuck me,” you grumble, and you’re growing more and more irritated—he hums to himself, amused. each second you spend speaking, each second he could be inside of you. you and him both knew that.

toji rubs his leaky tip with a bit more pressure against your pussy, just a a little more and he’d be inside. you started to feel your mouth salivate before you start to whine. “hm,” he ponders to himself, green eyes occasionally staring at the laptop that had about hundreds of comments spamming per second. “fine. i feel like bein’ nice to you today, especially since i haven’t seen my girl in a hot minute,” and again, he refers to you as his girl. it sends an unfamiliar feeling of butterflies brewing up in your stomach before he spanks you for probably the umpteenth time now. “now, arch a liiiitle more ‘n stare at your fans for me, yeah.”

you’re propped on the mattress with your ass all up in the air. from your screen as you stare at it, you spot toji’s mirroring reflection. that sly smile that slowly and gradually forms against his lips.

“lie the fuck down.” he mutters, feeling you try to sit up. you do, intaking a single breath before you feel him huff out a low puff. toji’s eyes stare right at your ass, he takes every moment in. the way you suck him in, it’s just filthy. the saturated squelches that shortly follow afterward—so filthy.

a six letter word to perfectly describe this entire situation.

arched over for your dad’s best friend, who would have thought—not you, not in a million years.

“ . . . shit,” he pants, and you’re so wet. you moan, pawing at the fat silk sheets in front of you. so many flooded comments of your audience merely thirsting over toji, wishing desperately that they were in your position. ( . . quite literally . . )

and toji’s just so fucking big.

he’s got a lofty height of inches under his belt.

metaphorically speaking—just a single sharp thrust and you’re speechless.

the wind gets snatched out of your lungs and it’s so vigorous that your head’s spinning. this entire angle, he’s got you right where he wants you—on all fours with your ass perked up. toji can’t keep his hands to himself anyway, his hands roam all over your waist before holding both hips in place. clammy hands just about stick to your skin before he starts to create a decent pace.

a slow pace — a slow pace that turns more mean.

languidly, you feel yourself leaning to his touch as he runs a hand down your spine.

toji brings one leg up to deepen the position and not even moments later, your lips part.

“t—toji . . ah ah,” and you don’t even recognize yourself. he repositions himself for a split second, making haste with his hips before sliding his feet right past your knees. with this, it’s more stimulation and you feel it all. just the right amount of pressure, his balls sharply thwack against your ass and it makes your mind cloud up with fuzz.

“. . damn,” he groans, a hand grabbing towards the back of your university hoodie. as he leans forward, dark viridescent colored pupils stare at your rear. the way it jerks and recoils against him, everytime . . it’s the best part. even more when he spanks it, deepening his hips against your cunt to earn out a cute whine or two from you. for what seemed like the millionth time, toji kisses the right cheek of your ass with various spanks. the sting has you gnawing on your lip like it’s candy, curling your toes up with a few droplets of sweat coating the bridge of your nose. “missed this pussy, three days too fuckin’ long, brat.”

“i missed you t—.”

“girl hello? i wasn’t talking to you.”

you frown, and it follows from a snicker from him.

“. . . so dramatic,” he’d eye roll once he hears you blow out a cute sigh. “fine, i did miss you,” and that was only a half lie. you knew in actuality, he missed what’s between your legs. toji still remained sassy as usual, it never left and it’d always stay. he’s buried all into you, deep to the hilt that each time his angry reddened tip drives against that spot, you squeal out in sweet pleasure.

it didn’t take him long to locate it, your g-spot. after a while you start to feel your pussy open, spreading wide—gaping. he was so ridiculously big, it’s leaving such question marks floating over your forehead because how can someone be this thick.

with a gruff—toji groans, veins bulging through his veins as he yanks your hoodie forward into him. he’s lenient, at least for a good while. letting you have your fun, get drunk off his cock before he edges you a more . . . oh just maybe.

gojoclitoru: does anyone want the link to my only fans :(

willbang4curses: Idk who I wanna be more…

iamnotsugurugetoseriouslyiamnothim: i want your only fans @/gojoclitoru

hotpeach03: Toji please I’m a single mom

your chat continues to spate, it’s so much that as your eyes watch them all flood down the logs, you could barely read the words.

he��s so deep inside, you’re almost drooling.

the stretch—he always leaves you so full, lips all parted and that same gaping mouth opening. pant after pant, you’re heaving heavily with your chest feeling tight and warm. “so deep,” you’d shriek, and he makes your arch lower just a bit further. he’s hitting all the right spots, not missing a single area. his dick retreats as it pulls out, then back again—twitching all inside of your cunt, he lunges forward with his hips before making you plop on your chest. “. . . .ohmygodohmygoddd,” and you were so whiney, you still can’t believe such pathetic noises slither past your damp lips. engulfed with your warm gummy walls squeezing him tight, he spanks you again . . . and again, and again.

“miss me that bad, huh?” he starts to speak. his voice was a pitchy rasp. a gruff base hides underneath it and you can hear the grit lingering like he needs to clear his throat. nevertheless, you throb anyway as he’s jackhammering his cock right into your swollen cunt over, and over, and over. “that why ya keep walkin’ around with these outfits? with no fuckin’ panties underneath, yeah?”

“forgot,” you whimper, shuddering once you feel toji grow playful. he trails his thumb towards your neglected puckering hole, fiddling with it just to get a reaction out of you, and he does. “s-sorry, ‘m sorry.”

“you don’t just forget to put panties on, slut,” he groans, and he feels himself approaching soon. it’s at the tip of his tongue—he feels the burn arise in the lower parts of his thighs, veins contouring to bulge all throughout his body. “wonder what y’er old man would think. ya only pull this shit ‘cause ‘s just you ‘n me here.”

he was right.

then again—if you’d have your father here, you’d never pull a bold stunt like that.

you’d rather drop dead than save yourself the embarrassment. funny though, considering the amount of times you almost got caught.

“so . . ” you mumble, and that’s when he presses his weight right against you this time. ah, prone bone.

you were really in for it now, thickly you swallow before his weight merely hovers over your ass, really deep in you this time.

he vigorously rams his thick cock into your sweltering cunt that’s hugging him oh so tight. he’s such a tease too—using every few chances he gets to poke and gingerly rub a thumb against your pulsating hole.

sweet moans die from your throat as you’re clinging onto the bed—such force that the springs nearly collapse from the whopping amounts of weight creating sheer impact. each thrust, it rings rapidly throughout your ears before toji groans. “f—fuck,” he’d groan, ignoring your little attempts of pure bratiness. you were at your wits end, smothering your glossed lips together before you feel his rounded cockhead mash against your most forbidden spots. spots that was so deep inside the inner areas of your cunt that it makes you mewl out in pure ecstasy. “gonna make me fill you up, princess,” he huffs out, tugging even tighter on the bottom part of your cerulean blue pull over. “s—shit,” and his gruff voice pitches time and time again. for a moment, you think you can hear toji whimper. it was real subtle though, but you heard it. loud and clearly. “gonna take it like you always do?”

“yesyesyes,” you nod—words pouring out of your lips like a waterfall, kneading your fingers into your palms as you bawled up the bedsheets right into your hands. with hooded droopy eyes, you stare at the screen with a dumb expression—he then takes the opportunity to get closer, grabbing you by the hair before holding your head up in front of your thousands of viewers.

“yes what, girl.”

you whine, feeling how perfectly his dick mashed throughout your folds—so easy for him, he was so thick that the stretch was simply immaculate.

“yesss, ‘m gonna take your c-cum, toji,” you’d pant, feeling your own eyes roll backwards—you probably looked a mess in front of your own thirteen thousand viewers, but you could care less. all that your empty brain could fathom was how you were ludicrously stuffed with his hefty cock. he’s drilling into you so good that that it almost feels like a massage. rough fingers run down your spine with one hand, another holding your head by the hair like it’s a prized possession before you whimper. “fuck me, fuck me, fuh—”

toji slaps a hand over your mouth the minute he hears something from downstairs—sure enough, it had to be your father.

shit.

he must have came home early. you remember him mentioning to you he was taking a trip to the corner store after work, probably to get some booze for him and toji to enjoy for some dumb football game.

“honeyyy? you up there?”

you moan, almost feeling your eyelids grow heavy as he’s still holding your head up in front of your laptop—his reflection in the screen just pounding into you at full speed.

already, you’re coating the back of his hand with nothing but your damp saliva—such a dirty girl, preferably his dirty girl.

maybe you were a bit delusional, no. you were very delusional—maybe this could go somewhere? then. again, it was no secret on how toji’s only around to get his dick wet, a reality that you forevermore choose to ignore—until you’d soon find out how that would bite you in the ass later on.

dead silence—you’re just muffling out mewls right into his mouth, and as if on cue, toji ends up finishing inside of you. it’s so much, velvety ropes of hot nut that fill the very insides of your pussy, shooting straight into your womb that your tummy flutters. it’s so much to where it spews out of your hole, he’s gotta poke his thumb in and swipe some out with the way it continues to leak. it’s so dirty, then again—toji fushiguro was a dirty man, the dirtiest.

“are ya gonna reply ‘n let y’er old man know you’re getting off his best friend’s cock or . . ?”

his words, such a tease that he’s still slowly pumping into you. gradually but slow, he plugs into your walls—seeping with cum that oozes out of your folds and you stare at the screen with a cute cock-drunken expression. “mmph,” was your reply, the only reply you could formulate since his big hand almost covered your entire face. so you give him a concise nod, hooded eyes feeling dry from staring at the screen for so many amount of minutes.

eventually, your father leaves and returns back to what he was doing . . . phew.

“that’s right,” he whispers in a low risqué tone, bringing a kiss towards the left part of your neck.

so tender—you’re gathering the strength to sit up but you end up slumping forward. with a pathetic, ‘oof’ you land on your chest, your own climax at the very edge. it’s cute because you end up finishing around the same time—your chest feels heavy, lungs tightly collapsing and all. the perfect way to describe your orgasm was a bomb—a bomb that was ticking and ticking, preparing to detonate before it finally does. instead, the destruction was you squirting, all over toji’s dick that stuffed you full. he’s so close up to your ear, hot breath fanning against your earlobe before he continues to speak. “. . oh, y’er fuckin’ dumb right now, aren’t ya. can barely speak.” and he removes his hand to where a trail of your spit departs. so lewd, you’re spasming from your recent release before with a quick glance—you stare at your monitor. you surpassed your tip goal by a huge milestone, yet like toji said—you were too dumb to even process let alone acknowledge it.

“t—toji,” you whimper, feeling the remnants of his sweet and savory seed pour down the crevices of your thighs. it was sticky, sticking to your skin like glue, sweltering of its entirety.

“come here, princess.”

it surprised you. for once, he was being . . . soft.

you reach backwards, closing your laptop before leaning right into toji. you moan, feeling his beefy ripped arms wrap around you, bringing you right into his embrace. bulky arms go around your waist and he pulls you into a sloppily heated kiss.

simultaneously, your heart skips a few beats—a few, probably an understatement. he tastes sweet, you could make out a brief tang of liquor on his tongue—a taste you didn’t want to ever forget. as your tongue rummages against his, you moan once he gets a bit handsy, a hand going right between your legs to feel the mess he made. the mess you made yourself also.

breathy pants could be heard from your lips as you press your dampish perspiring hands all on his bare chest. he’s wearing a somewhat of a formal shirt — you tug on his collar, yearning for him to come closer, to touch you more, hold you more. something, whatever it was was just brewing up inside of the very depths, the very pits of your stomach.

toji groans, the warmth of his breath wafting against yours before he pulls you away to get a good glimpse of you. a big hand holds your waist, and his eyes peer into you for a long time before as if he hesitates—he kisses the top of your forehead, only to stare away with a scowl.

“. . . toji,” you murmur, and by this point you weren’t speaking with your brain—more so with your heart. it was apparent, especially with the way your droopy hooded eyes suddenly soften the moment you speak out the two syllables in his name.

“let me speak first.” he grouses, a thumb stringing alongside your back, gently strumming against your skin. with the way you gazed at him, making him lie back before aligning yourself, it was clear as day that you wanted more of him. he leans back, long strands of black hair run down his face with his legs sprawled before he prepares to finish.

you straddle him, sitting flat on his lap and he’s so warm—he’s a bit flustered, flaccid from his release and of course a bit sensitive. it’s quite rare to see toji in such a . . . vulnerable state. perhaps you soften him in a few ways or less. at least, that’s what you’d like to think.

it takes him a long time to formulate the words, it’s as if his tongue was tied—weird for him considering it’s toji, he’s always direct and blunt.

and yet for once, you have him speechless.

toji lets off a irritated sigh before while what seems like forever, he mutters out a gruff, “shit. i . . i think ‘m in love with you.”

“ . . . ”

[flowersforbucky]

it's nice to have a friend

summary: you're having the worst period you've had in a long time. bucky is determined to help you feel better.

author's note: this is a silly and smutty piece that i felt compelled to write when i got my period a few days ago!

warnings/tags: smutty, reader has a period, langauge, use of a vibrator, nipple stimulation, no use of y/n, use of a cbd gummy lol

word count: 3.2k

Approximately every twenty-eight days, you curse the fact that you were born with a uterus and vagina. 

This month, however, you were cursing that fact a bit earlier than expected. Cycle day twenty three, to be exact. 

Your periods never start this early, but as soon as you opened your eyes at six o'clock this morning, you knew what had occured while you were asleep. You could feel the moisture that soaked through your underwear and pajama pants before you could turn on the light to see that your white sheets had been dyed bright crimson beneath where you'd been laying. 

One load of laundry with extra stain remover and as much Pamprin max strength as one can safely take later, you are curled up on the couch of the compound's living room with a cup of coffee and a heating pad turned up so high that you risk first degree burns. 

“Are you sure you don't want me to stay with you today? We can go to Coney Island another time,” Natasha tries to reason with you once again. 

“I promise I'll be okay here,” you assure her. “These cramps are killing me, I won't be any fun to hang out with today. Go, enjoy yourself. When is the next time that you'll all have a free day and weather this perfect?” You gesture towards the sunshine streaming through the living room windows. 

“If you're sure,” she caves after a few moments of hesitation. “Promise I’ll win you that stuffed panda that you wanted so badly last time.” 

“I am going to hold you to that,” you tell her in a faux-serious tone. 

After Natasha and the rest of your friends have left for their day of riding rollercoasters and eating hotdogs on the boardwalk, you turn on your comfort show and settle in for an unexciting and uncomfortable day by yourself. 

A few hours later, you decide you've sat in the same position for long enough - you can practically feel your body morphing to the sofa. You're walking to the kitchen to refill your water bottle and find something to snack on when you collide with what feels like a brick wall. 

A brick wall that happens to smell really, really fucking good. 

You step back, finding that the brick wall is staring at you with a confused look on his face. 

"What are you doing here?” Bucky asks as he glances you over from head to toe, taking in your choice of apparel - baggy sweats that are about two sizes too big for you, a cropped tank, and fuzzy slippers. You resist the urge to cross your arms over your stomach - you didn't think anyone else would be here today and the tank top you're wearing doesn't exactly conceal the period bloat you're currently experiencing. 

"I live here,” you snap, a bit harsher than necessary. “What are you doing here?” 

“I also live here,” he says, returning your attitude. You roll your eyes, maneuvering your way around where he blocks the doorway. 

“What I mean,” he continues as he turns around, following you into the kitchen. “Is why aren't you with everyone at Coney Island?” 

“I could ask you the same question,” you challenge, pouring some more ice into your cup. “Steve never shuts up about the glory days, all the time the two of you spent at Coney Island. I'm surprised you're not there with him right now.” 

He huffs a laugh, pulling out one of the barstools at the kitchen's giant island and taking a seat. “We did spend a ridiculous amount of time at Coney Island,” he admits, his voice almost wistful. He hesitates before continuing, staring down at his hands as he traces a metal crevice on his left palm.

"But I haven't been to Coney Island since the forties. Guess I'm kinda scared it won't live up to my memories of it. Plus, I had a lot of laundry to catch up on, so..” he shrugs, trailing off. 

You're taken aback by the honesty of his explanation. “Yeah, well,” you start awkwardly, turning away from him to search through a cabinet for something to eat. “I can't say that I know what it was like in the forties, but it's one of my favorite places, present day.” 

“Then why are you hanging out by yourself while all of your friends are at one of your favorite places?” 

Damn it, you curse internally. He's really not going to drop this. What should I say, that my uterine lining is falling out in clumps? 

You grab a bag of freeze-dried fruit from the cabinet before turning back to face him, trying to come up with an excuse. 

“I just didn't sleep great–” you come to an abrupt stop in the middle of your sentence as a blinding pain shoots through your lower abdomen. The bag of fruit falls to the floor as you steady yourself on the ledge of the counter with one hand, clutching your stomach with the other. 

Bucky rises from his seat in an instant, closing the several feet of distance between the two of you in one big step. 

"Are you okay? What’s going on?” His hands are both extended to you in an offer of help. 

“I'm fine,” you say through a sharp intake of breath. “It’s.. it’s just cramps. Bad cramps,” you force the words out, propping your elbows up on the countertop to relax your body weight. 

“Oh,” he says as realization dawns on him. He bends down to grab the bag of fruit that lays next to your feet, and then places it on the table in front of you. “I guess that answers my question, then,” he adds, referring to why you didn't go to Coney Island. 

“Ya think?” You stand back upright, grabbing your snack and water bottle off of the counter. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a busy day of bed-rotting ahead of me.” 

“Some exercise would help,” he calls when you're about to exit the kitchen. “Laying in bed won't do much for you. A little bit of light exercise to release some beta-endorphins, maybe an abdominal massage–” 

“Are you really man-splaining menstrual cycle pain management to me right now?” You ask, slowly turning to face him with an incredulous look on your face. “I wasn't aware that you had a medical license or that I asked for your opinion.” 

“Just trying to help, sweetheart,” he shrugs with a mischievous grin. 

“If you want to help, you can go get the Italian food that I'm craving and give me an abdominal massage yourself,” you practically spit at him. “Otherwise, keep the unsolicited advice to yourself and fuck off.” 

You turn back around and all but run out of the room before you can process the shocked, albeit pleased look on his face.  

After you've closed your bedroom door behind you (with perhaps a bit more force than necessary), you sink into the fresh sheets on your bed and shove several pieces of apricot into your mouth. 

Rationally, you knew that Bucky's advice was solid, and that he was just trying to get a reaction out of you. That's just the kind of friendship that the two of you have. Sarcastic, teasing and occasionally… tension-filled. 

You definitely didn't help the matter by telling him to massage your abdomen, but what does he expect when he suggests something as horrible as exercising during a time that you simply want nothing more than to melt into your mattress? 

Your cell phone chimes from the pocket of your sweatpants. You dig it out and look at the text displayed across your lock screen. 

Bucky Barnes: What kind of Italian food, specifically? 

You would never admit it to him, but the corners of your mouth tug upwards into a smirk as you read his message. 

You type: Don't you have a lot of laundry to catch up on? and press send. The message is marked as “read” right away. 

He types. And types. And types some more – until those three dots indicating a message in progress disappear. 

Whatever. You click your phone off and toss it somewhere in the covers around you. 

The next couple hours are spent sitting under the near scalding stream of your shower, and then reading on your Kindle in the dark. As jealous as you are that your friends are undoubtedly having a blast today, you honestly don't mind your current situation - aside from feeling like your organs are being pulled out of your vagina, you hardly ever have days with zero obligations other than to just relax in whatever way you see fit. 

A strong knock on your door causes you to lose your place on the page. 

"You didn't give me a legitimate answer so I hope you like gnocchi, or eggplant parmesan, or traditional lasagna, or extra breadsticks..” 

“You know, it's not funny to joke about carbs to someone when they are–” 

You come to a stop in the middle of your sentence when you swing your door open to see him holding several plastic bags. An aroma of garlic and herbs hits you in the face. 

Oh. Not a joke, then. 

He extends one of the bags to you with his big, blue puppy dog eyes. You take it from him, opening the door further as an invitation to enter your bedroom. 

"Consider this a peace offering,” he says, placing the other bags of food on your bed and perching awkwardly on the edge of your mattress. You close the door behind you, walking back to where you had previously been lounging on the bed. 

“I'm sorry for being a smartass,” he adds more genuinely. “I just.. didn't like seeing you in pain. That's all.” 

“This is far from my first period,” you shrug, not meeting his stare. “You get used to it after a while. But consider yourself forgiven.” 

He gives you a small smile when you finally look up at him. He grabs a smaller bag that you hadn't noticed him carrying, one that is visibly less full than the others. He reaches inside, pulling out a small jar that he hands over to you. 

Your brows furrow as you inspect it closely. “CBD gummies?” You ask, your brows now raising quizzically. You open the jar, popping one of the pink, cube-shaped gummies into your mouth. “Watermelon flavored CBD gummies?” 

You notice the faintest trace of blush bloom across his cheeks. “I take them sometimes to help me sleep,” he starts, fiddling with some of the beading on your comforter. “But they can help with all different kinds of pain too, so I just thought you might like some.” 

You close the jar, placing it on your bedside table before reaching over and grabbing his flesh hand in yours. “Thank you, Bucky,” you say, giving his hand a squeeze and then releasing it. “Really. I appreciate all of this.” You try to ignore the jolt of electricity that buzzes through you when your skin comes in contact with his. His hand is both softer and warmer than you would have imagined. It brings you back to the last words that you spewed at him in the kitchen earlier. 

"A shit ton of pasta and CBD gummies,” you snort a laugh. “Would I be pushing my luck if I asked for that abdominal massage too?” You say it in a way that sounds halfway serious, halfway joking. 

“If that's what you want,” he says lowly, turning to angle his body towards you on the bed. “Then just say the word.” 

The air in your room suddenly feels suffocating. 

It is what you want - but you're at a loss for words. So instead of a verbal response, you scoot over to the middle of the bed, closer to where he sits on the opposite side. You lay down so that your back is flat against the mattress, your head propped up by a single pillow. 

Bucky's eyes widen in surprise, but he quickly wipes the look of astonishment from his features. He moves so that he's sitting directly next to your legs, giving him a proper angle to put his hands on your lower stomach. 

You're wearing the same sweatpants and tank top from earlier, having thrown the outfit back on after your shower. The loose sweatpants hang low enough to expose your hip bones and the edge of your underwear. 

The intimacy of the entire situation hits you the second that his hands make contact with your skin. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs, perhaps sensing your nerves. “Or if I do anything that doesn't feel good.” 

Your eyes shut instinctively at the polar opposite sensations of his flesh and vibranium hands. Skin and metal, fire and ice.

“I will,” you assure him. Your words come out breathier than intended. 

There's an immediate relief in your lower stomach as he rubs languid circles across your midriff. It's a feeling beyond pleasure as the cramps fade the more he touches you. 

His vibranium pinky dances along the waistband of your underwear, causing goosebumps to spread across your skin. You try to focus on the relief he's bringing you - not the fact that you're wearing a thin tank top that leaves so much of your skin on display, giving him a clear view of the goosebumps that he's caused. 

He continues with the precise motions until the pain in your abdomen has faded nearly entirely - you feel so good that you can't stop yourself from letting out the smallest moan when his flesh hand applies just the right amount of pressure near your pelvis. 

You know he heard it - there's no way he didn't. Just as you know there's no way that he doesn't notice your fully hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your tank top. 

You keep your eyes closed, terrified to meet his gaze in this state. You dread the moment that you feel his hands pull away from your skin. 

"You know,” he starts, his voice possessing a strained edge. “I don't think this is good enough for you.” 

Your eyes shoot open, looking at him in a nervous confusion. There's a glimmer in his eyes that you can't quite pinpoint - his stare trailing to your bedside table on the opposite side of you. “But I think I do know what could make you feel much better.” 

“What are you talking about?” Your voice quivers as you follow his stare. You're not sure what he's looking at - all that sits on your nightstand is the CBD gummies he had just given you, your Kindle, a few books, a bottle of lotion, and the Himalayan salt lamp that paints you both in an orange glow. 

He smirks before leaning across you - keeping his vibranium hand pressed firmly on your belly as he uses his flesh hand to pull open the drawer of the small table. 

“Hey! What are you–” but he retrieves the object he’s looking for before you can finish questioning him. You freeze at what he's holding in his hand. 

Your vibrator. Your glittery, lavender colored vibrator. 

“How the fuck did you–” 

“Do you think I can't hear you using this from across the hallway late at night?” He grins smugly. “That I can't hear your little whimpers when you think everyone's asleep?” 

Your face heats up a hundred degrees. You don't know whether to be infuriated or massively turned on. 

Both. You're definitely feeling a mix of both. 

He clicks the power button, turning on the device to its lowest setting. He watches you for a moment, giving you ample time to tell him to fuck off.

Instead, you once again relax against the pillow, your body going limp for him. You spread your legs the slightest bit. 

He takes this as his signal to proceed. Not taking his eyes off of your face, he trails the head of the wand from your lower stomach and over the fabric of your sweatpants until he reaches the apex of your thighs. Your nipples pucker once again, your thighs clenching around the tip of the vibrator. 

Bucky moves the device in a circular motion, making your back arch off the bed and your head tip back. 

How is it that it feels better when he massages you with it through your fucking pants than it does when you use it on your bare pussy? 

You hear the clicking of a button again, and the force of the vibration over your clothed cunt increases. You grind down on the device, desperate for friction. 

Bucky watches you with something akin to pride on his face. 

“You know how I told you to tell me if I do something you don't like?” He asks as he pushes the head of the wand directly down on your clit with the perfect amount of pressure. 

“Yeah,” you answer - it comes out like a moan that you'd hear in a porno.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Remember that.” 

Before you can clear your head enough to wonder what he means, he's tugging up the cotton fabric of your tank top and exposing your breasts. 

You gasp at the sensation of the cool air blowing from the AC coming in contact with your already hard nipples. Bucky leans forward, keeping the vibrator on your core, and captures one of your nipples in his mouth. 

Your hand immediately goes to his hair, tugging the soft brown locks in your fingers to keep him in place. His free hand grasps your other breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. 

The combination of pleasure radiating from your pussy and his hand and mouth on you is fucking perfect. Fucking perfect, and all too much. 

You clench your thighs together, riding against the vibrator until you feel warmth spreading through your lower belly. 

“Oh my god, Bucky,” you moan - he groans when you say his name, the vibration sending you tumbling over the edge. You come hard, possibly harder than any other orgasm you've had in your life, thoroughly soaking your panties. 

When you've finished writhing beneath him, Bucky pulls back, removing both his mouth and the vibrator. He clicks the device off, tossing it towards the foot of your bed. 

You're panting, staring up at the ceiling, trying to process what the fuck just happened when you hear Bucky let out a low chuckle. 

Your eyes snap to him, finding that he looks thoroughly pleased with himself. 

"Can't say that's how I expected the day to go when I decided to sit this Coney Island trip out,” he sighs. 

“You can say that again.” You sit upright, bending your legs and crossing them at the ankles. You lean forward, tugging your shirt back into place before pulling one of the bags of food to you. 

"We should go sometime soon. Together,” you add, somewhat nervously. You aren't sure why - the guy just gave you the best orgasm of your life (and barely even touched you). 

“Are you asking me on a date?” that sly smile reappears. 

You shrug. “Yeah, I suppose I am.” 

"Then my answer is yes. But only if you share some of this food with me.” 

♡♡♡♡♡

my masterlist

thanks so much for reading!!! can anyone tell that i really fucking love food by how often i incorporate it into my writing? 😅

[inkskinned]

okay if you're really cool about things, i can be honest with you. before you read further, decide if you're a girl's girl. if you're cool and actually cool or like not cool.

men don't talk in my book because i was fuckken tired of the way they're the center of every fucking story. i was tired of how every story takes a moment to let them talk. men can shut up for literally one fucking book.

unfortunately not everyone is cool. professionally what i usually say is i didn't want to add violence to the world. the only men in my book are abusers, so they don't get to talk. they don't get to take up space. they ruined my life, they don't get to have their words echo anymore.

because like, yeah! you find practically any story about a person surviving trauma and... there's a man at the center. men are often rescuing us from these things. a "good man" is always standing around, being a good man, proving to the victim that good men are the real men. that her experience was unique rather than universal.

the redacted text has not been taken well by all of my early readers. there is this weird, crouching growl that keeps occurring with men-of-a-certain-age. why don't we hear his side of the story?

when i sat down to write everything that happened to me, i couldn't look at the frank brutality of my abuser's words on a page and think to myself: i actually let him speak like that. i had to redact his words from the manuscript. i then left it redacted. no victim is going to read this book and hear the person who hurt them. it is a book for the victims to speak. abusers shut up challenge, forever. for eternity.

my father once told me, chuckling, i should just have a page of redaction where i let the man just finally talk. it is funny to joke about how we should make a whole page in my book about a man that hurt me. this was not the only time someone commented - it feels like you're hiding things. how do i know you're actually a victim if he doesn't get to speak?

there are books where women aren't even present. i even genuinely like some of those books. like, who doesn't like the hobbit?

i keep running into people defending this imaginary man. the default narrative is so true to some people that they will defend any man, just by virtue of the assumption - "if he's acting like that, you had to push him." certain people need definitive proof that you didn't accidentally make your partner into an abuser. they need to decide if you deserved it, because they want to be able to judge you.

which makes sense, i guess, from a hind brain perspective. if you can figure out "why" someone was cruel, you can protect yourself against it. if you defend the bully, the bully might side with you. i don't really know their explanation for feeling this about a character in a book. trust me, i wrote the guy. he is not going to protect you.

i guess i just - there was a time in my life where i desperately wanted anyone to defend me. where i could have really used someone saying holy shit are you okay instead of what did you say to make him act like that to you.

instead, over dinner, a friend-of-a-friend i just met is pouring herself wine. i heard you wrote a book, she says. she gives me the kind of chilly smile i associate with knives. i heard it's unfair to men.

[rafesslxt]

Showerhead 2 | mattheo riddle

pt. 2 — you can find pt. 1 here

summary: after you and mattheo had some fun in the shower, you two can‘t stop thinking about each other and that night. But who gives in first to sin again after a little jealousy?

words: 5,1k

warnings: heavy dirty talk again, cursing, making out, dry humping, teasing, controlling, praising, bj, unprotected p in v, shower, swallowing, legilimency (mind reading),

note: you don‘t have to read part 1 for this part but have fun if you want to

— in the great hall —

After that night in the shower 2 weeks ago, I couldn‘t stop thinking about it. I dreamed about it in my sleep, daydreamed about it in class and lunch while Hermione talked about some book we needed to read to understand everything in potions.

I hated it but everytime we crossed paths, he winked at me and I couldn't help myself but start blushing. As soon as I saw his face, I saw it between my legs.

"Y/n? Are you even listening?" Hermione says and shakes me a litte at my shoulder. "What? Yeah yeah of course, I'm gonna read it." They all look at each other before their eyes are on me again. "We were actually talking about how Cormac seems to have quite interest in you." Harry then continues.

I start laughing loud, looking at them as If each of them has 3 heads." What the hell are you talking about?" "Told ya she's not listening.." Ron says, raising his eyebrows as he bites into his toast.

"I thought he‘s interested in Hermione?" I ask as my laughter calms down a bit. "Harry heard him talking about how he would - well.. do certain things to you." My amused face turns into a disgusting one as I hear what Ron says.

"Yeah and guess who‘s got an invention to Slughorn‘s dinner?" Hermione says with raised eyebrows.

Ron looks at her shoked. "What?? That prick got one and I didn‘t?"

"Oh god no.." a few days ago Harry, Hermione and myself got an invention to tonights Slughorn‘s dinner for his favorite students. ".. but wait, how do you know who‘s coming?" I ask her. "I just asked him after the last lesson of potions. It‘s Neville, Ginny, Blaise Zabini, Mattheo Riddle, Corma –" "Mattheo Riddle?" I ask her shocked, looking at her with wide eyes.

I would see him again? Like.. this close and with people around us? My mind is racing as Hermione answers. "Yeah well, you know he‘s really smart and good in potions." "And he has an interest in special students and Mattheo is.. well – special." Harry comments.

Ron snorts and talks with a full mouth. "Mh yeaw hiff fatha was "speschal".

Hermione rolls his eyes at his full mouth and looks at me again. "Why are you so suprised by his name?" she asks me a little suspicious. " oh uh- just suprised, i always thought Mattheo is uh - not interested in things like that."

"Why would chou think about wat Mattheo is-" "Ron just eat and shut up!" I snap at him making the other two widen their eyes a bit.

I collect my things and stand up from the table. "I‘m gonna go to.. god i don‘t know I‘m gonna go." I say, walking off before they can answer. Because it‘s the weekend I luckily don‘t have classes today. I don‘t think I could concentrate in one of them after the information I just got. God why him? Why me? Maybe I can say I feel sick.. no he would know. I can‘t back down.

I walk down a hall, not thinking where I am going and suddenly crash into something hard but not as hard as a wall. My book and writing stuff falls to the ground and I look up, staring right into the face of Mattheo.

My brain went blank in this monent. "What princess? Aren‘t you happy to see me?" he grins down at me before he gets down and picks up my stuff. "Hm I remember a similar moment, same position." He smiles even more when he sees my red cheeks and not talking mouth. As he gives me my stuff he presses his mouth to my ear and whispers "I‘m looking forward to tonight" And with that, he‘s gone.

I‘m so fucked.

— at the evening —

" Do you know what you‘re wearing?" I ask Hermione while I put on some makeup. I hear her sigh and she goes "yeah I have this one dress I really like. What about you?" I shake my head as I search for my lipliner. " Not really, but I have enough dresses so I‘ll find something." Hermione laughs at my comment as she pulls out her dress and changes into it.

After I‘m done with my makeup and hair, I walk over to my closet, looking for a nice dress.

"What about this one? It would fit perfectly for the occasion." She says as she pulls out a dress of mine. It is long and black, with cute little arms on it. "It‘s pretty but I want something.. else." As i go trough my clothes I think about Mattheo again and what would impress him. God I need to stop it.

"Well what are you looking for?" "Hmm something likeee.. this." It‘s perfect. It‘s short but not too short, i know it sits beautifully on me and.. it‘s green.

(imagine something like this but in some green tone and longer so it‘s more school approved)

Hermione raises her eyebrows and looks at me. "Are you sure? Isn‘t it a little too.. party?" I love her for how she always chose her words wisely and with a knowledge for not hurting and judging people. I know what she meant but she would never think about judging me. Even when I put my clothes on she wouldn‘t pick, she makes me feel great in them.

"Yeah, I‘m sure." I smile, putting it on. When I look into the mirror I smile even more, thinking about how Mattheo will react seeing me in it.

As the time comes we take our purses and walk outside our dorms, meeting Harry and Ron in the common room. "You both look great." Harry tells us like the gentlemen he is but Ron just scans me like a little hater and looks at me. "Isn‘t that a little too flashy?" "Ron!" Hermione hits him on the shoulder.

"Don‘t be mad at what you can‘t have Ronald." I say grinning and winking at him before I link my arm into Harry‘s with Hermione doing the same on his right side.

We walked through Hogwarts, towards the dinner and the closer we got the more my heart started beating as If I‘m running a marathon.

I open the door in front of us after taking one last deep breath and walk inside with my two friends.

Everyone was already there, seated perfectly. "Oh hello you three! I‘m so glad you made it. Please choose a seat and get comfortable." Professor Slughorn greets us. I always liked him, even tho many say he‘s a little weird sometimes but I think thats exactly what I do like about him.

As I walk towards an empty seat, I scan the table, looking at Mattheo when I found him but his eyes were already on my dress.

Quickly I look away, seeing that Cormacs eyes were on me too which made me gag a little.

But god Mattheo looks so good. He wears a simple white shirt with a black tie and black slacks. Damn what I would give to ride his thigh in these – "Y/n you‘re staring." Hermione whispers into my ear, making me realise i stared right at Mattheo, but to my suprise he‘s still looking, not breaking eye contact for a second.

I gulp and look away, feeling my cheeks getting warm. God I hate it so much what kind of affect he has on me. I can‘t be the only one..

Wait. I‘m a woman. I can definitely tease him and make him feel the same.

The dinner goes on, nothing special besides Ginny who came in crying. Definitely have to ask her with Hermione about that later in detail.

As desert comes I look around the table, meeting Cormacs eyes. He licks of some ice cream from his fingers and wiggles his eybrows at me. Oh god I think I‘m gonna throw up.

As soon as I can I look away to Mattheo who was giving Cormac one of his death stares. Interesting.

I don‘t really know why i think it‘s a good idea but i do think it is. So I lean back a little, presenting the low cut at the front of my chest. I see Mattheo‘s eyes flicker to my chest and so do Cormac‘s but Mattheo‘s eyes switch back really fast to Cormac and give him a second glare. Really interesting.

I smile triumphal and lean a bit forwards again, pressing my boobs together this time. Instantly I get a headache but a really intense one. I hiss in pain which makes Harry look at me worried. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah I just got an really bad headache.“ i whisper back, wondering what it caused.

Soon the dinner was over and everyone thanked Slughorn for the invitation. "I‘ll stay and try to figure out what that missing memory of Slughorn‘s is." Harry whispers to us before staying behind.

My headache got a bit better but It still didn‘t go away. As we walked trough the door I said to Hermione and Ginny "You guys go to the common room, I‘ll follow. I just wanna get some advil from Miss Pomfrey.“ They nod and tell me that they will go into Ginny‘s room to talk more privately.

It‘s already late and a bit after curfew but Professor Slughorn told us he made sure we would get in no trouble If someone sees us.

I rub my head slighty, trying to ease the pain on my way but nothing helped.

Then, out if nowhere a hand slaps over my mouth and a arm wraps around me, pressing me against a body. I scream into the hand, trying to get myself free until I see who the hand and arm belongs to.

"You didn‘t think I would let you go off that easily in that little dress of yours huh?“ Mattheo breathes against my face as it was only a few inches away from mine.

He slowly takes his hand away from my mouth, letting me speak. "What do you mean?" I ask and try the innocent act but he doesn‘t buy it.

"Oh princess, princess, princess. You can‘t fool me. I know that you wore this excuse of an dress for me. Fuck and also in my house color's? That‘s no fucking coincidence."

I gulp at his words and the fact that he knows who I wore it for. There‘s not even a single chance for me to lie. "And what If I did wore it for someone else?" Only one way and that‘s to push his last buttons. Oh how I wanted to push that buttons until –

"Someone else, yeah? Then who was it for?" "Cormac." As soon as his name left my mouth I regretted it. I see his jaw clenching and his grin fading. "Cormac yeah? So you didn‘t thought about me the whole dinner?" I slowly shake my head no, not daring to move now.

"So you‘re wet for him right now? Not me?" "What? I‘m not–" but as soon as I move my legs I feel it too. Shit. When I only look up at him his grin comes back.

"Yeah that‘s what I thought.. so why don‘t we skip this bullshit and you come with me?" Before I can even answer him, he takes my hand and pulls me trough the corridors, towards the Slytherin common room. " Mattheo I can't-" "Shut up." he hisses and whispers something under his breath so the doors to his common room would open.

"Can't fucking believe you pulled such a show in front of that stupid dick." he growled quietly before we reach his dorm. I start smiling as I see he's getting mad at the fact that Cormac saw me in that dress. "T'fuck you smiling about huh?"

As we enter his room I notice that there is only one bed which makes me wonder. "Don't you have a roommate?" "No, I have my own room." I scoff at his answer and look around his room. It has a big bed beside the window of the room and a little nightstand beside it. On the other side of the room is a big couch and a armchair.

But before I could think about it any further, he pulls me into his lap, face towards his, after he sat down on the armchair. "You know, you could have just told me If you missed me princess. Didn't need to dress all up for me." He puts his hands on my hips, grabbing them tightly.

I roll my eyes at him and act as If I didn't already enjoy his touch. "Didn't miss you." I say, looking away from him. He chuckles and pulls my face back to his with his fingers on my chin. "Are you sure?" I only nod and look into his brown eyes. They look so dark without any light in the room, that they send even more shivers down my spine than usual.

"Is your head better? Still in any pain?" he asks me grinning. "Yeah they-" wait. I never told him about my headache. Or could he hear when I told Hermione and Ginny? Or when Harry asked me at dinner?

His hands slowly wander down to my tights were my dress slowly rose up and placed them there, squeezing my flesh lightly. I felt his breath on my neck, giving me goosebumps. "It's gotten better, right?" he asks again. His lips ghosted over my skin, making me bite my lip.

"How do you know?" I ask him in a whisper. "I know everything that goes through your pretty little mind baby."

I tried to figure out what he meant by that but I couldn't concentrate with his hands on my skin and his lips almost against my neck. I need him so much.

"What baby, can't concentrate? Too much for you already?" he coos and finally kisses my neck, nibbling on the skin between his lips.

I can't believe how easy he gets under my skin with his kisses and whispers, not even doing anything. " I know you dreamed about me these last two weeks, thought about me at every chance you got. In class, in the shower, wishing it was me who touched you." he groaned against my throat.

My eyebrows squeeze together at his words. " How would you know that?" "Did you never wonder why your head always hurted at the same times?" I gasp and pull my neck away from him. " Are you reading my mind?" my eyes go wide as he just smiles at me sheepishly. Oh my god, no. This can't be. He's not allowed to know all these private thoughts.

"You don't know how hard it was for me to stay away and wait until you would come back to me but you little minx didn't and after tonight.. I couldn't just let you slip away from me again."

"Y-you can't do that Mattheo. That's not allowed. These are my thoughts." "I know baby but I couldn't help myself after that night in the shower. You were like a dream coming true so submissive and responsive to me. Fuck I'm already getting hard just thinking about it. But you understand I didn't have a chance, right? I couldn't risk you thinking about someone else then me."

He slowly pulled my dress up, exposing my tights and underwear. "God are you for real? Did you plan this?" he groans as he sees my matching set, a dark green lingerie set.

He pulls me closer to him, looking deep into my eyes.

"Ride my thigh." he commands and puts his hands back on my hips. "What?" I ask, looking at him dumbfounded. " It's my thigh or nothing. I'm not helping you getting off this time." I look at him with my mouth hanging open in shock. How could he be so cruel?

"C'mon, ride it baby I know you thought about it at dinner." My cheeks got red as he mentioned that. He dips his head towards my neck again and starts covering it in wet kisses. "Don't test my patience, love." he whispers and tightens his grip on my hips, moving them slowly. I gasp at the sudden friction.

"Feels good, right?" I only nod, closing my eyes as I start to move my hips in circles against his thigh. I feel so dirty doing this but at the same time it feels so good to finally get the friction I needed the last weeks again.

I feel my clit rubbing against my underwear, making me whimper and move my hips faster. "Fuck, look at you. I thought you were desperate back in the shower but now you're just getting yourself off on my thigh like a dirty little whore." I moaned at his words combined with his kisses on my skin. His lips went lower, first towards my collarbones, then further down to my chest.

I feel one hand of him wander to my underwear and pushing it to the side so my bare pussy rubbed against the material of his pants. I whine at the feeling, my hands grabbing his broad shoulders. " Oh my god. I'm so close Mattheo." He laughs wickedly against my chest, pushing down my dress so it hangs at the middle of my body. His mouth wanders to my bra, unclasping it with one hand behind my back.

"You're so beautiful baby, never ever am I waiting two weeks again for that." he growls and starts massaging my boobs and playing with my sensitive nipples.

I arch my back, shivers run down my spine at his touch. The grinding get's more and more intense. "Feel this?" he asks as he takes my hand and puts it on his bulge. "It's just for you." I bite my lip and look down at my hand. It looks so painful that I start massaging it through his pants. He bucks his hips up into my touch, his breathing getting heavier.

While still riding his thigh, I open his pants and push them down together with his boxershorts. His already fully hard cock slaps against his stomach before I take him into my hand. I spread the pre-cum over his tip with my thumb and start moving my hand up and down. "Shit princess.." he hisses, thrusting his hips up into my hand.

"I'm so close Mattheo.." I whine as I almost start rutting my hips against him. "Come on my leg baby, do it." he groans, lips apart.

I let go of his cock for a moment to dig my nails into his shoulders for support as I press my throbbing clit harder against him. He takes his cock into his hand and jerks himself off as he watches me panting and moaning.

With a deep twisting feeling in my stomach I come all over his thigh, riding out my orgasm.

"So good for me, look at how much you came." he says and I look down at his pants, a big wet spot on them now. My legs still shake from my high and I look up at him again.

Mattheo's POV:

Fuck. I don't know what it is but I have a feeling that this girl is going to be the death of me. With hooded eyes she looks up at me and almost get's me to cum in my own hand just from her eyes looking into mine. She had such a chokehold on me, but I will never admit that to her.

I smile down at her before I speak "already fucked out again and I didn't even touched you." The same thing I told her two weeks ago after I've eaten her pussy and she came after 3 minutes.

"Fuck off." she mumbles and falls slightly against my chest. "As much as I enjoy this closeness baby.." I start, nodding towards my rock hard cock, laying against my stomach.

I push a strand of hair behind her ear and whisper into it. " Suck on it." Her eyes go wide and she looks down on me with those innocent eyes again. " Don't tell me you never sucked cock with those pretty lips." I say, looking at her plump lips, almost begging to be fucked.

She rolls her eyes at me again, making me want to choke her until she stops. " I have." Her answer makes my clench my jaw, wishing she would've just said she didn't.

I pushed her down in front of my legs. I grab a pillow from the couch beside us and put it under her knees, making her grin. " Don't tell me you suddenly care for me Matty?" Now I am the one who rolls his eyes.

I grab her pretty hair into a ponytail and push her towards my cock. She takes it into her hand and starts to lick off the pre-cum from my tip. A moment later she starts sucking on my tip, making me smile. I have a feeling this is going to be good.

I hiss as her wet lips and warm mouth take more of my cock into her mouth. I close my eyes and let my head hang backwards. " Come on y/n, show me what you got."

Suddenly she takes me all the way down her throat, my eyes almost bulging out of my head and my mouth falling open. "Oh fuck, yeah!" I groan, gritting my teeth together. I swear I could feel her smile around me.

She bobs her head up and down in a fast pace, making me moan and groan like a little bitch. Fuck, what is it with this girl?

I feel my tip hitting the back of her throat. " Oh Shit." I lift my head up to look down at her. Her eyes are teary and her hands support herself on my tights. I start grinning, wishing I could take a picture of her pretty mouth around me.

Her throat clenches around me so delicious I almost came. "Hmm baby, you know how to suck cock. Gonna give you that." I pant.

One of her hands go down to my balls, massaging them. " Oh - " I throw my head back again, feeling something in my lower stomach. My hips buck up and I hear her gag, only getting me closer to my high. "M' gonna cum down your throat and you'll swallow it, yeah?" I ask her, breathing heavy. It doesn't take me long to cum and fill her mouth. "Fuckkk.." I groan, pushing her down even harder so her nose touches my stomach.

"Swallow it. All of it." I slowly let go of her, but seeing her cough a little only fuels my desire. She opens her mouth after she swallows and shows me that she swallowed every single drop.

"That's a good girl. Now come on.. let's take a shower." I say grinning at her and helping her back up. "Mattheo I don't know If I can walk so far." she sighs as she stands on her still shaky legs.

I kiss the top of her head, something I never do but just feels right with her. " You don't have to. I have my own shower." I pick her up bridal style and carry her towards my bathroom."

Y/n's POV:

As he picks me up to carry me, I feel a few butterfly's in my stomach but I try to suppress them.

He let's me down when we stand under his shower. His clothes hit the floor. "Hot or cold?" he ask, putting his hand on the tap. "Hot." I say and watch his back. Last time I didn't noticed but he has big scars all over his back, some even on his chest. He must see my face cause he asks me "What's wrong?" I shake my head and try to smile.

"Nothing." I see it in his eyes that he doesn't buy my lie but doesn't push me either. As the warm water hits my skin, I sigh in relief. I let my hair get wet and wash off the makeup I had on. While I did so, Mattheo stands right behind me, his hands on my hips, scanning my face.

I open my eyes and see him looking. " What?" I ask grinning. " You're beautiful." I roll my eyes and look away again, trying to hide my blush. "You don't have to try to get into my pants. You already are." He turns me around and holds my face. " Hey.. I really mean it. And not just your body. Your face is prettier than the ones of angels." My eyes widen at his words, not expecting that kind of words from him.

He clears his throat and looks away for a moment himself. That's when I grab his face in both my hands and crash my lips into his. The kiss is hungry, more passionate and different than the last times. More tender.

One of his hands slide up and down my back, while the other lays on my hip. "You make me crazy, princess." he admits, mumbling against my lips. I smile into the kiss. "Don't go soft Mattheo." I say, teasing him.

He starts kissing my neck, but less soft and more aggressively now. "Remember who's in charge here baby. I would choose your words wisely." He lifts me up so I wrap my legs around his waist. "This time I wanna see your face when I fuck you."

He takes his cock into his hand and positions it at my entrance, teasing me with it. „Mattheo come on, fuck me.." i huff out frustrated. "Beg for it, wanna hear you beg again like the last time I fucked you." I roll my eyes at his ego, but still do as he tells me to. "Please, I'm already begging you to fuck me."

Ge grins down at me and slowly pushes inside me, holding eye contact the whole time. His lips part and his eyes get lazy. "Fuck, you feel just as good as the first time I fucked you stupid."

I want to bite back but only bite my lip as he starts thrusting in a fast and hard pace. "What was that? I'm going soft princess?" His grip on my hips gets tighter and he starts kissing my neck up and down. " N-no you're not.." I whimper, closing my eyes and letting my head fall back against the wall.

What was is that he had me under his control so much? Not even a single brain cell told me to not do as he says. I can't with this boy..

His lips work their way up to my ear and he whispers "I'm a man baby, a boy wouldn't fuck you like I do. " Goosebumps erupt over my body and again he's right. " Stop messing around in my head." I growl lightly, supressing a moan in my throat. "You're all mine. I don't give a shit about how you see that, cause I know your body screams for mine every night. And it will never get someone else's. Do you understand?"

He stops kissing my neck and looks at me while thrusting his hips against mine. A shiver run down my spine as I looked into his eyes, but this time not a good one. It was ice cold. I never saw him looking tat serious and cold. Possesive. "Do. You. Under. Stand." he asks me again, deep and hard thrust for every word.

"God yes, Mattheo. I understand!" I cry out as his fingers find their way towards my clit, rubbing it in circles. My nails leave marks all over his back, drawing a little blood.

He starts hissing but laughing at the same time at the pain. He's gonna be the death of me. "No, you're gonna be mine, princess. Do that again with your nails, turns me on." As I don't, he mumbles a quite "okay" and presses me harder against the shower wall, fucking me even deeper and more brutal. My nails find their way back inside his skin and I'm sure If we had been o the bed It would be broken by now.

"When are you gonna learn to not be a little brat, huh?" he asks, a smirk on his face. "I own you now, baby." I let out half a snort half a chuckle. " Do I own you then too?" I ask sarcastically. " You own every inch of me."

My face falls a little at his answer, not expecting it. Did he mean that?But as soon as my thoughts started, I forgot them as he starts to rub my clit even harder, but in a steady rhythm.

"Oh yeah look at that in pleasure twisting face, that's fucking it." he groans, his thrust becoming more erratic. One hand leaves my hip and wraps itself around my throat, squeezing it with the perfect amount of pressure. A broken scream leaves my lips with my eyes rolling back.

"Yeah scream so loud Cormac hears who‘s name you‘re moaning tonight." I press my lips together but he squeezes my throat tighter. My walls clench around him, making him lose his control, eyes rolling back a bit with a smile to it. "I love that pussy so much fuck.I bet he can't fuck you like I can, huh?"

This time my answer comes in a instant. " No- no he can't. I'm so close Mattheo, please." I moan as I feel this deep twisting feeling in my stomach. His lips meet mine, to my surprise. Unlike how he fucks, he kisses me soft and passionate. "Come around me baby.Please fucking come around me." he groans almost desperate.

And just like that I let go and let the feeling of my orgasm overflow me. "Hm shit.. can I come inside you baby?" Mattheo pants against my lips while he looks down between us. I just nod quickly, feeling him coming inside me a few seconds later. "Shit.." a whimper leaves his lips as he fills me up.

My stomach twists again at the sound so I look at him and scan his face for a moment. I think that's the hottest sound my ears ever came across. He looks fucked out too, his eyes heavy.

He slowly pulls out but still holds me. "You make me so addicted." he confesses to me, looking between my eyes and lips. I had to. " So you're going soft now again?" I tease him, out of breath.

He chuckles lowly which ends with me bent over every single surface in his room.

I don't know how long I can survive in that.

—

I just know ya‘ll hate and love me for posting this.. after weeks :) <3

There‘s gonna be a part 3, the final then. Hehe.

Taglist: @idk-simra @kindnessspreads @purplegardenwhispers @glittervame @oxi8 @lovelyygirl8 @yakosobaboba | thank you for supporting guys 🫶🏻

I created a Tag List Form if you‘re interested: Taglist Form

xoxo sarah <3

[makoodles]

I would give anything to know Ghost’s inner monologue during any part of the last fic you posted. Is he purposefully getting into her space at the beginning (because we all know Ghost is too aware of his body and his trauma to accidentally touch anyone, let along have his entire side against them)? When he walks in does he just blue-screen, is that why he doesn’t immediately leave? What is he thinking when he sees our wet cunt still stuffed? When he finds out no one has touched us that way, or made us cum? When we want him to fuck us so badly we beg him to do it raw? Does his heart break a little when he heard us say we thought he left us, while we were so vulnerable and still dirty? Is he also freaking out about the fraternization stuff, or has he decided that we are his in the same way that he is ours, and Price will just have to cover up another damn thing for his team?

yes to all of this

(a little drabble part 2 to this)

Ghost has a little habit, when you're concerned. He's usually hyper-aware of his body and his limbs and where he's touching, what's around and beside and behind him. His skin itches sometimes when he's touched without warning, though he always hides his reactions. But with you... he's not so careful. He lets his legs spread, his arms stretch, lets himself crowd into your space. There's something intoxicating about the way that you let him, the way you never lean away from him. You're just so soft, so warm, always letting him infringe on your space with a sweet little smile as though you're happy to see him. You're one of the rare people who are happy to see him, and it makes something uncomfortably warm wriggle in his belly.

So yeah, he leans into you when he sits next you in the rec room. It's mostly muscle memory, because you've never minded before. But today, you're a little tense. Ghost knows you, knows you well. He can see the way your spine is a little stiff, the way your eyes are a little glassy as you stare off into the distance. You look a little... ruffled. Ghost watches you carefully out of the corner of his eye, probes a little, but backs off when you dance around his question. He's knows boundaries well, and he won't push yours. Even if he thinks it's... strange that you leave so quickly, eyes averted.

Finding your phone wedged into the seat after you left was like an opportunity. Simon Riley has never had much, he's always made do, and yet he's admittedly greedy when it comes to you. He's not often a selfish man - he's never had enough to be selfish about - and yet he's hungry for your time, your smiles, your touch. And you're always so generous with yourself, so he doesn't second-guess his decision to follow you down the hall to your quarters. He's never been there before, and he wants to see your space, hungry for any shred of you he can get.

He should have knocked. It was rude not to. But he's so, so fucking glad he didn't.

He's a little rough when he opens your door, a little too eager to get into the room and see your pretty grateful smile when he gives you your phone back. But when he gets that door open, sees the sight of you on your back among your sheets, legs spread, head back, eyes fluttered closed, his mind goes fucking blank.

He watches you scramble, watches the mortification flash across your face as you attempt to shut your adorable little pink vibrator off as you shut your legs, depriving him of the prettiest view he's ever seen. Ghost is not a man with a weakness for pretty things, but it seems only natural that you're the exception, you and your pretty wet puffy pussy.

He hardly even knows what happens, his fingers and toes numb and his attention narrowed down to you, only you. Before he knows it, he's sitting on your bed, feeling enormous and ungainly next to you as you stare up at him. He reaches out, his big hands scarred and ugly against your pretty skin when he holds your vibrator, his blood buzzing at the thought that this had been inside you mere moments ago.

He never thought he'd be envious of a piece of fucking plastic, but here he is. A big man, a deadly soldier, reduced to a fool at your bedside. And yet, you don't even seem to notice. You're so good, so sweet, parting your legs when he asks you to and letting him look.

He asks you to finish. It's bold, and stupid, and greedy. He wants to see you come - he already knows it'll be the prettiest thing he's ever seen, that it'll be seared in his mind forever. In this moment, he thinks he'd do anything just to watch your eyes roll back, your face go slack, to hear the pretty little noises he knows you'll make.

It escalates faster than he could have imagined. Such a sweet thing, laying back and showing him how you use your vibrator. And he watches eagerly, his breath catching at the realisation that this is how you play with yourself when you're alone. You're clumsy about it, which is absolutely adorable.

But then you make a confession, and Ghost thinks he might be spiralling. You've never been touched, never been fucked, never come. It feels like an outrage. He thinks of how tense you'd been earlier, shifting beside him in your blue jeans, and he just thinks... what the fuck? Prettiest girl he's ever seen, and you don't even know how to touch your own cunt properly? He wants to show you, more than anything he's ever wanted before. Greedy. You make him so greedy.

"Let me try."

He's between your legs before he even knows how he got there, pulling your stupid little vibrator out so he can replace it with his fingers. And if he thought he was greedy, he soon finds that he's well-matched when it comes to you. You're just as eager, just as hungry. Spreading your legs and whimpering, all those sweet, sweet noises that spill out of your mouth, just like he knew they would.

You have the prettiest cunt he's ever seen. Pretty, slick, swollen, just as hungry as the rest of you. He alternates between his fingers and his mouth and your little dildo, a little drunk on your taste and your soft thighs when they squeeze around his head. He kisses you too, because he can't help himself. Greedy.

He's never been a chatty man, but his cock is so hard now and he knows his mouth is running. He can't help himself. Your salty-sweet slick on his tongue has loosened it; he barely even knows what he's saying, or what he's promising, but by god he's going to live up to it.

Then, your lovely sweet voice, all breathless and pitchy, asking “Can I try yours?”

Not only that, you beg. You plead with him to fuck you, to do it raw, as if he was ever going to say no. As if he'd ever be strong enough to say no. He can hardly handle hearing you beg like that; he feels as though he's going to blow before he even gets his cock inside you.

In his wildest dreams, he never imagined you so needy. You writhe, you're soaked, you make the most heart-stopping little noises deep in your throat when he presses inside. You're so hot and wet and tight that it feels as though you're about to squeeze his cock right off, and he tries so hard to feed it to you slow, to give you time to take him. You're so good, taking him even though you struggle a little. He's not a small man, certainly not an easy man to take inside of you for your very first time, but it's a testament to how slick and eager you are that he slides in with minimal effort.

After that, he loses himself. Hardly even knows what's he's doing, working based on pure instinct, filling and fucking you until he's losing his breath. God, you're beautiful, and he clenches his jaw hard to bite back his orgasm - he has to focus on you, only you while the tears are streaming down your pretty face as you gasp and cry for him.

He can see your orgasm creeping up on you before you recognise it yourself. When it hits you, it's a whole body event. Your back arches, legs spasm, stomach trembles, eyes roll back. Your cunt clenches down so fucking tight that it's a little bit painful. Simon doesn't dare blink - he's never going to fucking forget this. Your very first orgasm, and you're experiencing it on the end of his cock.

He loses it a little after that, his thoughts fizzing and slipping from his grasp as he loses his coordination. By the time he comes inside of you, cock throbbing and skin tightening, he's already decided that he's going to have to make you come again. Once isn't enough, not for someone as hungry as him. Or you.

He thinks he might have fucked you stupid. Your eyelids are fluttering and your lips are parted, but you're a little bit dead to the world. It's cute. He feels his pride swell, smug at the thought that he's fucked you so good that he's sent you reeling off into dreamworld.

He leaves, only for a moment, unable to be away from you for too long. He just wants to get a cloth, something to wipe you off with to make you all clean and fresh again. You're already awake when he comes back, though you're still hazy and clumsy and all teary-eyed.

He's happy to wipe you clean, despite your quiet mewling complaints, and then he hauls himself into your bed just so he can curve his big-ass body around your smaller one, relishing your sweet softness. God, he's wanted to hold you like this forever, but he's still a little nervous about hurting you. Killing and maiming and hurting have been the only things he's been really good at his whole life, and he's irrationally fearful of moving wrong and hurting you, even after the sex. Or maybe especially after the sex.

He can see your brow crease, the uncertainty in your eyes. He realises you're probably a little uncertain about where you stand with him, or what this is. That's fair. Simon has never been the most demonstrative man, but he's also been the type to cling on like a tick to the things he values, the things he wants to keep safe. He holds you, checking his strength, proud to be able to keep you safe in his arms.

He's going to make sure that you don't worry about it either. Your hair smells sweet, your skin is so warm, and your ass is so soft where it's pressed against his crotch. He's reaching for you before he can think about it, and his heart pulses hard when you spread your legs for him so easily. God, he's gonna ruin you. Just like he promised.

[syoddeye]

john price x f!reader thing. unedited. ~600 words.

john price finds a dent in the driver’s door and a note tucked under a wiper.

sorry i can’t afford to pay, please forgive me x

and he’s angry, of course. who wouldn’t be? piece of shit. then he registers the looping handwriting and the little heart in the corner. interesting. he pulls the cctv. lo and behold, there she is. the culprit. some stumbling drunk buffoon.

~~

you probably shouldn’t have nabbed an e-scooter when you were three sheets to the wind, but you did, and fuck, you’re paying for it. you genuinely feel bad about the dent you left in the parked car last night, but you think a broken wrist and three stitches in your lip is more than enough punishment, thanks. you groan, remembering how you tossed the scooter into a bush and hiked a few streets away before calling 999. having to clock in for an opening shift added insult to injury.

~~

he imagines it’s rough going, working an espresso machine with a busted wrist. he supposes the manager didn’t want her as the cashier given the lip. pity, the swelling and stitches aside, she’s quite cute. but serves her right.

he wonders how she’ll react when he picks up his coffee and procures the printed still of her face, clear as day, fleeing from the scene of the crime.

he should feel bad, considering her injuries and what a barista job pays, but. it’s the principle of the thing.

“rough night?” he asks, hovering at the end of the bar.

“huh? oh, yeah. could say that,” she smiles tiredly. it’s a little strained, but still warm. “pity partied too hard.”

john’s smirk flattens. “pity party?”

“yeah,” she shrugs. “series of unfortunate events.”

like running into my car?

“what, bad date?” he jokes carefully, hiding behind a friendly grin.

“ha, guess so. it was supposed to be an anniversary dinner.” she explains dryly, looking all the more defeated as she tamps the grounds.

“supposed to be?”

she glances up, locking in the portafilter with a crank of her good arm. she finally looks a little suspicious of him. smart. “yeah.”

“i don’t mean to pry. you just seem like you could use a vent.” solid recovery.

it works. she considers a moment, shrugs again, and nods as she pulls the shot. “guess so,” she licks her lip and looks back, evidently deeming him harmless. not smart.

“found out he was cheating, called him on it, and he stormed out. after we ordered.”

that’s. that’s not what he expected. but it stirs something oddly protective. john’s a bit old-fashioned, he’s the first to admit it, so to hear about a man carrying himself so poorly? a man running around on a pretty thing like her?

it doesn’t sit well with him. car be damned.

“so how’d you…” he prompts, nodding at the cast.

“oh, yeah, we ordered some fancy wine. i drank most of the bottle alone, sobbing,” she cracks a self-deprecating smile and it dislodges something in his chest. “but the server didn’t charge me for dessert. i, uh, fell on my way home.”

crashed. you crashed into my car.

“sounds terrible.”

“it was. the whole night was. anyway.” she pauses to slide a pen from her apron to write on the cup. “americano to go?” she asks, pushing the drink over the counter, eyes floating to the next order.

john spots the same little heart, the looping letters. he looks back at her, plugging along despite the clear heartache and injuries. he sighs, crumpling the print out in his pocket.

“think i’ll have it to stay, actually,” he mumbles, knowing she doesn’t hear him as she makes the next drink.

he camps out at a table where he can watch her. there’s a dent in his car, but he’s decided there’s a barista-sized hole in his life.

[toxicanonymity]

it's hard (stepdad one shot)

3k words, stepdad!joel x f!reader

“Can I tell ya somethin'?” He whispers. “What?” You ask. He takes a deep breath. He scoots back, making room for you to roll onto your back and look up at him. His face is serious. He takes off his glasses and reaches to put them on the side table. His eyes are always browner than you remember. 

SUMMARY: You're at their house xmas wk. WARNINGS: I8+ stepcest, angst, pining, fluff, possessive!joel, sneaking around, outercourse, unsafe p in v, mess of cum. reader can sit on him. Mood board is for mood. A/N: Title is an album by The Who.

It’s Christmas week, only a few days after your first time with Joel, and you’re staying at their house. You show up later than you said you would, and Joel has already asked where you are. The truth is, you're nervous. You’re not sure you want to have sex in their house, and you’re also not sure you can resist.  It’s too mortifying to think about getting caught. There are plenty of other places you can do it–your apartment, a motel, a car. You’re trying to be smart and slow down. 

When you show up, your mom’s car isn’t there. Joel is in the kitchen wearing his standard gray joggers, a tight white tee, and socks with coconuts on them. No shoes. He lights up when you walk in. "Hey," you mutter and he replies in kind as you close the door behind you. You survey the living room where there’s a pillow and blankets on the sofa, and you pity him for a moment.  

“Oh,” he goes over to the christmas tree and plugs in the multicolor lights. “Merry Christmas week.” You stand there with your bags, not really sure what you’re doing, or feeling. He approaches you cautiously. 

You look at each other for a few seconds until you're both comfortable that the other still feels the same way. 

“I'll take those,” Joel finally offers. As he takes the bag off your shoulder, he gives you a peck on the cheek. “Good to see you,” he mumbles. His shirt rides up as he slings the bag over his shoulder and you follow him upstairs. He glances back and teases, “Caught ya lookin’.”

Once you make it to your bedroom you ask, “where's mom?” 

“Grabbin’ dinner. Guess we’ll eat when she's back.”  He puts the bags down on your bed and steps toward you. You don’t step away. He gently pulls you into a hug. You inhale his scent as his arms wrap around you. 

The embrace lingers, and you can't ignore the warmth of his mostly-soft package pressing against you. 

You begin to whisper, “I don't think we should. . .”  trailing off when you realize you're not sure where to draw the line. Every second in his arms, you're less and less sure. 

“Okay,” Joel murmurs. He kisses you on the cheek–slower, more tender than his initial greeting. “Whatever you want,” he adds. He presses his lips into your cheek again, and they linger for a moment before he drags them away. 

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself, then pull away, cheeks burning as his arms reluctantly loosen and his hands slide down, skimming your sides as you step back. 

“I'm gonna unpack,” you mutter, glancing at your luggage, cheeks warm. 

“Yeah,” Joel scratches one side of his beard. “Okay.” 

One day at a time. Have some self-control. You pull yourself away. 

He nods, looks down, and turns around to leave. His back is sooo broad.  You want to reach out and run your hand over his muscles, but you know you wouldn't stop there.

You lock the door behind him and hope it isn't too offensive. As soon as he’s out, you exhale. You lay down on your bed.  You open your nightstand drawer and your heart flutters at a box with a bow on it, and your name in his handwriting. Under it, there's a new pack of batteries. 

You wonder if he's about to jerk off, but you don't wait to find out. You close your eyes and imagine him coming back through the door, unable to resist.

—------------- 

Your Mom comes home with Thai food and the three of you sit down to dinner together. Your mom makes small talk while Joel makes a mess of the pad thai trying to serve himself. Noodles are dragging behind, tethering the pile on his plate to the main container.  Your mom bristles at this in her peripheral vision. 

“So,” your Mom puts on her best interested face and asks you,“Swipe right on anyone lately?” 

Joel scoffs silently. 

“Not many,” you answer. Every time she talks to you, your heart races like you’re about to walk into a trap. This is your own doing, and you know it. 

“How many guys are on there, anyway?”

“A lot.” 

“Can I see?”

It doesn’t even occur to you to say no. 

You open tinder and slide your phone over. “Just swipe left.” 

Joel’s chewing slows down as he stares at the dating app open on your phone. Your stomach drops.

You hadn’t used it at all this week. You would’ve deleted it if you thought about it, but you’re so used to ignoring the notifications. You look at Joel apologetically as your Mom keeps swiping left.

Joel’s nostrils flare, and his breaths become faster. He swallows and doesn’t take another bite. He taps his chopsticks on his plate. 

“Oh,” your Mom addresses you. “You know who’s single?” She looks up from your phone. Joel takes a deep breath and looks at her with his brow furrowed. 

“Harold, down the street.”

“What the hell would she want with Harold?” Joel snaps. 

Your mom chuckles. “What’s wrong with Harold?” 

Her phone rings. Joel puts his chopsticks down and clasps his hands behind his chair to stretch his back. As soon as your Mom stands up from the table, he leans forward and takes your phone. 

“What’s this about?” he asks flatly.  It’s still open to tinder. His jaw clenches. He looks into your messages. At least he can see you haven’t sent any. 

“I forgot I even had it,” you explain. 

He goes to the home screen. “Good, you won’t mind.” He holds down the app and presses uninstall.

“What else ya got?” he starts scrolling your apps.

He goes on instagram and opens a picture of you in a mildly low cut dress. He deletes it and opens another picture. His breathing is still agitated. 

“Hey,” you reach for your phone. “What the hell?” You take it from his hand. “Are you gonna act even crazier now?” 

His brow furrows and he stares at the table, then meets your eyes and swallows. “I dunno.” His face softens as he looks at you.

Then he gets pensive and asks, “What do you think of Harold?” 

You roll your eyes. “I don’t think about Harold at all.” You pocket your phone and get up from the table. 

“Wait, where ya goin’?”

“Meeting a friend for coffee.”

He’s rubbing his beard like he’s trying not to say anything, but he blurts out, “What friend?”

“Emma. . . Jesus.” 

On your way out of the neighborhood, you pass Harold’s house. It feels like every time you drive by in the daylight, he's struggling to bring some kind of delivery inside - Amazon boxes, or even donuts and iced coffee. Tonight he's sitting at his kitchen table alone, wrapping a present.

—--

When you’re at the cafe with Emma, Joel texts you, Sorry.

It’s ok, you reply. 

It's a struggle not to tell Emma what's going on, but you don't. You tell her you’re seeing someone but don't want to jinx it by saying too much.

When you get home, he’s in the kitchen casually leaning with his butt and hands against the counter.  “How ‘bout some egg nog?” 

“No thanks,” you tell him, but you linger. 

“We good?” he asks, quieter. You nod as you take off your jacket, then put it in the coat closet. 

When you turn around, he’s right in your space. His eyes are red and his hair is messier than earlier, giving you a rush of desire.

“Sorry,” he repeats and reaches for your head.

You don’t pull away.

He cradles the back of your head as he hugs you loosely. You let your hands lightly skim his hips, then wrap around him. It would be a harmless hug in a different family. Until he pulls his head back, then rubs his nose against yours. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, nostrils filling with his aftershave. Then a toilet flushes in the background, and you break apart. 

“I’m going to read,” you mumble. His fingertips skim your ass as you walk away. 

—------------- 

You’re lying in bed later, still reading, when Joel sends you a snapchat. The notification makes you tingle, but when you open it, it’s not him. It’s the TV downstairs with the title card of Krampus. You get out of bed and pad over to your mom's room. You crack the door open, and she's passed out. 

You go downstairs.

Joel is lying on his side on the sofa. You and he are wearing the same pajamas you got for Christmas last year. The Christmas tree casts the room in a dim, cozy light. 

He welcomes you under his arm. Just a little cuddling, you lie to yourself.

Without much hesitation, you settle in as a small spoon so you're both facing the tv. He runs his hand up and down your side before dangling his arm over your waist.  The bulge in his pants is barely grazing you, until you push your ass back and he inhales sharply, then cups your breast, using his forearm across your torso to bring you closer. His nose nudges your neck and you can feel him inhaling your scent. His warm package nudges your ass. It's the first time you've felt him soft, like really felt him. It's still quite a bulge.

He's not soft for long. Soon he’s lightly grinding against you, hard and getting harder as the movie quietly plays. His hand leaves your breast, skimming down your soft pajama top to its bottom hem. His fingers creep under the shirt and when they hit your bare skin, the shock of arousal has you thinking very stupid thoughts. Like, maybe you should ride him on this couch, come what may. You stop his hand from going any further up your shirt. 

His arm relaxes in defeat. 

You gently take his hand out from under your shirt and bring it near your breast, where it was. Instead, he covers your hand with his and interlaces his fingers. His thumb brushes yours at a slow rhythm, and the butterflies in your chest nearly make you forget what you're trying to resist until his cock twitches against you.

He takes his hand back only for a moment to adjust himself, then his hand returns to yours. His arm wraps tighter over you. Against your back, his chest expands with each breath. The rhythmic stroke of his thumb lulls you half-asleep. 

“Can I tell ya somethin?” He whispers. 

“What?” You ask. 

He takes a deep breath. He scoots back, making room for you to roll onto your back and look up at him. His face is serious. He takes off his glasses and reaches back to put them on the side table. His eyes are always browner than you remember. 

“I wanna do this every night,” he says. 

Your heart flutters. You turn on your side to face him. 

“I mean it,” his eyes are somber. He lays his hand on your side. He takes in a shaky breath. “I'm miserable without you.” 

“I'm right here.” 

He shakes his head. “I need all of you.” 

You look at each other for a few seconds in the light of the Christmas tree. There's not much to say. 

“Me too,” you whisper. His nose twitches and he shakes his head like you don't get it.

“What I’m tryin’ to say is. . .I’d ruin my life for you, if it wouldn't ruin yours, too.”

You read each other's eyes for a long moment.

“What life,” you whisper.

His eyes brighten. “That's how I feel.”  His gaze falls to your lips. “We’ll get a new one.” 

You want to kiss him, but don't want to end up naked. First you warn,  “I don't wanna take off any-”  

He cuts you off with his lips. They’re soft and needy. Then his hand runs down your side, over your ass, and his fingers dig into your flannel-clad thigh. You hike your knee up and wrap your leg around him. The hard shape in his pants presses right against your most sensitive place. “Mm,”  you moan softly into his mouth.

You’re throbbing for him. So turned on. His tongue slides against yours and he feeds on your mouth as he grinds against you. His dick is fat and hard and warm.

As you move against each other, pangs of pleasure dart to your nipples, your ass, your chest. He's so hard. Your body flutters on the edge of bliss but stays there. He grabs the plush of your ass, pulling you harder against him. You break the kiss with a gasp, and he latches onto your neck. 

With a push of his hips, he moans into your neck then whispers, “can't wait to be inside you again.” you throb and gush at the thought. He grinds against you a little harder, needier, but just as slow. “Fuck, you feel good.” He rolls over on his back, bringing you on top of him. Then he sits up and lifts your knees so your legs wrap around him and you hang onto his neck.

“God I wanna fuck you like this,” he whispers, holding you against him. His cock swells harder. You're throbbing madly. You card your fingers into his hair and he groans at your fingertips on his scalp. His strong arm holds you against him with his hips lifting under you. 

“Me too,” you whisper, your legs pulling yourself closer, harder. You groan softly. “Want you inside me—fuck, just like this.”

“Can ya feel it,” he asks, “ohhh–cause I still feel it–god–every time I close my eyes.” He moans as his stiff manhood twitches against you. Your clit pulses and you gasp. He covers your mouth with a kiss as you come. Everything else fades away. His lips break away with a shudder as he explodes against you through the soft flannel, pulsing hard. Your chest flutters at the feeling.

When you're both done, he lets you back onto the sofa, and resumes his position on his side. He pulls you back against him with a sigh. You're pleasantly surprised that you don't feel a bigger mess against your back.

“Shit,” he mutters after a minute.

“What?”

“‘s’not your problem.” 

“Say it.” You roll on your back to look at him.

His cheeks flush. “M’not empty.” 

Your heart skips a beat.

“Not your problem,” he repeats, but you’re already pulling down your waistband. Yeah, it’s. . .not a problem at all.

You turn on your side again, facing the tv. You reach back into his pants, and your breath hitches at the mess of cum enrobing his slowly softening dick.

“Do it,” you whisper, and tilt your hips for him.

He quickly notches his cum smeared dick at your entrance, no longer fully hard, but hard enough. He presses on your mound as he plunges into you, dividing your insides with a sigh. “Fuck,” he breathes. Your chest feels light as your body makes space for him. 

You close your eyes as he further stiffens, growing inside you, pressing against your walls. His hand slides up your top. He gropes your breast as he retreats, then bottoms out again. Within a few strokes, he’s as stiff as ever, and you’re as full as ever. 

He pauses, fully seated inside you, throbbing. He covers you both with a blanket. You're relieved there's another one beneath you. He breathes against your ear as his hand meanders under your top again. “Inside?” 

“Yeah,” You nod.  

“Where it should be,” he pants. He moans as he slowly fucks you.

“Want it all,” you beg, getting closer and closer with the tight drag of him within you.

He adjusts his position, sliding his arm under your neck so he can grope you with both hands, hugging you tight against him.

"'s'all I think about," he whispers. "Ungghhh---when I wake up---ohh--when I go to sleep."

He moans softly and his hands feel you greedily, "whenever you're ready."

“Fuck,” you whisper. He buries himself in you slow and deep. His breath is hot on your neck. You push back on him, swallowing every inch he’ll feed your drooling cunt. He buries his mouth and nose against your head. The Christmas lights are blurry in the corner of your eye.

“Feel so perfect,” he pants. He rubs your clit and you still his hand. He withdraws part way and pauses with his tip nudging just the right spot. He just barely rocks his hips, staying right there, rubbing over it, not letting up.

You gasp and tighten with tension, then sigh as you gush on him.

“Yeah,” he pants, presses your mound for leverage, and bottoms out as you choke his cock.

He sighs and begins to pulse with even more power than you remember. A huge burst of warmth, followed by a smaller twitch, another massive burst, a slow thrust. It keeps coming, and so do you. His breaths are heavy against you, his stomach flexing into your back as he empties his load. You're overflowing with cum. Your climax wanes, and he's still pulsing even once he's dry.

It finally stops, and he rests inside.

-

You catch your breath, and the smell of sex hangs so heavy in the air that dread bubbles in your chest. You pull yourself forward, letting his cock fall out.

“Shit,” you mutter at the mess between your legs. You pull your pants up. He squeezes your hip affectionately as you sit up.

He sits up on his elbow and tucks away his worn out cock. He takes a deep breath and searches your eyes.

You don't know what to say. You reach back to feel the blanket – soaked. “This is. . .we can’t do this again.”

He whispers your name, sits up and rests one hand on your back, one on your thigh. His chest is heaving like he's waking up from a nightmare. “What happened,” he whispers. “Talk to me.”

“Here. We can't do this here.”

He sighs and swallows. “Okay,” he whispers. “Sorry.”

“You know how to use the washer, right?”

“Yeah. I've got it. Of course.”

You take off your pajama bottoms.

“You okay ?” He asks.

You nod. You yearn to lay with him, but you’re also compelled to leave that room.

You read his face and the worry on it makes your heart hurt.

“It's okay,” you whisper, then kiss him good night. It's a long, soft kiss, and he doesn't want to let you go. “It’s okay, I promise,” you assure him.

You creep up the stairs pantsless. The air is cool on the cum between your thighs until more warmth trickles out.

You clean up in your bathroom and hear the washer turn on downstairs. You can't get his pitiful look out of your head. You send him a chat when you get back in bed: Good night ❤️.

Sweet dreams ❤️🤟, he replies.

—---

----

----

Thank you for reading!

PSA - The main story to stepdad is over, and I don't commit to another arc of them, but the AU is still open for one shots, asks, HCs, whatever I get inspired on. Basically I want it to be more casual without expectations.

There will be another post this month, because I already wrote the smut.

@silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading @rainstorms-library @nervousmumbling

[avocado-writing]

Hey, I love your writing and I just saw Deadpool and Wolverine and fuck it was good!

Could I request a Dp x W x reader smut where Logan goes into rut? If not that’s totally fine, but I figured it doesn’t hurt to ask

@saradika did an amazing Logan rut fic here, you really ought to go and read it if you like this kinda thing!

3.2k words. smut. minors dni

vaguely sub!Logan (he deserves to be taken care of); handjob (logan receiving); p in v sex (Logan giving, reader receiving); p in a sex (Wade giving, Logan receiving); knotting; fluff

It’s been a long day.

Logan is tired in a way he’s unused to being tired, at least for several years now - the kind where he’s worked himself to exhaustion after a hard day on the job. It’s not been easy, trying to build himself a new life from the ground up, make amends for how he was and attempt to be a good man again, but at least he’s got a pretty solid foundation beneath him: you and Wade.

He spots the two of you waiting outside the local bodega, finds himself rolling his eyes but smiling when Wade makes a big show of waving to him. Ahh. You two. He’s not quite sure where he fits in with your relationship, but you’ve both made it clear he’s welcome there. The three of you don’t go through something like what happened in the Void and come out without some pretty soul-deep bonds. And it’s… nice. It’s new.

Nothing too much has transpired yet, at least physically. The two of you are happy to pepper him in kisses but, so far, he’s gently turned down every invitation to join you in the bedroom. Not that he doesn’t want to. Fuck, he wants to. But he’s an old man now, a recovering drunk, and he has some… concerns about how well he’d be able to keep up. Doesn’t wanna humiliate himself between the two of you. So for now, he’s content to just be in a pile with you both when you’re watching a movie at night, held and caressed.

“Hey sugartits,” says Wade with a grin when he’s within earshot, “how was our hard-working man’s day at the testosterone factory?”

“Fine. Pretty fuckin’ tiring,” he confesses. He’s working manual labour at the moment, long days at a construction site, getting himself back into the shape he used to be. It’s good to feel like he’s doing something active and he’s making an okay paycheck too. You press a cool soda into his hand, a glass bottle, and he looks around before using his claws to pop the lid off. It’s refreshing as he gulps it down and he’s glad for it - no more booze. Not any more. He’s trying to be better and the two of you are either side of him to help get there.

“We got sandwiches for dinner, hope that’s okay,” you say, holding up a plastic bag. He breathes in the warm smell of the foil-wrapped food and…

… and he catches something else, too.

Something sweet, heady. It’s oozing off of you and Wade in waves. Catches in the back of his throat as he starts scenting the air properly. Oh fuck. 

His nostrils flare.

The two of you smell delicious.

And, for the first time in years, he can feel something begin to boil in his stomach, thick like molasses, the urge to mate.

Just lile that, he’s going into a rut.

“Logan, you okay?” you ask, noticing his shift in demeanour and reaching out to place a hand on his bicep. It’s like you’re made of static electricity, shooting a current all the way through him - and that’s just over his sleeve. God knows how he’d survive if it was skin-to-skin. He has to strangle a moan in his mouth before it can escape and incriminate him.

“Mmm. Not feeling so hot. Want to get home.”

You and Wade exchange a concerned look, but you know when not to push - and you stop Wade from doing so, too. He limits himself to an, “okay Peanut, keep your secrets I guess…” and leaves it there.

Logan makes himself hang behind as the two of you start the wander back to the apartment, tangling your fingers together and speaking in hushed tones. If he was in the state of mind to care more he’d try to listen in. He isn’t. The only thing he can concentrate on is trying not to get a semi in the street.

He thought he was over this. Thought that age and years of alcohol had grinded down that particular biological impulse. He’d sort of forgotten what it was like, actually, the urge to fuck so bad that part of his brain was worried it’d kill him if he didn’t. 

But then again, until now, he hasn’t had you both, has he? People who cared about him again. People who loved him. People who made it clear they’d look after him, whatever way he needed you to.

Fuck. Fuck. He needs to get home now.

It’s agony, the two of you walking in front of him. You both smell fucking amazing. There’s a soft, perfumey, light scent rolling off you; Wade’s slightly headier, nearly cloying. Together it is the most amazing combination he’s ever known. He digs his fingernails into the meat of his palm to steady himself until they bleed and heal, bleed and heal, bleed and heal - over and over. At least the pain is distracting.

When you open the door to the apartment he shoulders past you both and heads straight into the bedroom, attempting to slam the pathetic plywood door behind him and gruffly telling you not to follow. He can’t have you see him like this: animalistic, desperate, feral. So needy that it’s fucking humiliating. He needs to have something touching his dick, now.

He slumps down on the bed, hands fumbling at how quickly he tries to rid himself of his jeans. Fuck he wishes he hadn’t worn a belt this morning, just wasting time, getting in the way… he slices it off instead, flinging it to the side of the room where it hits the wall and lands on the shared washing basket. Three sets of clothes share that space like you share this one: yours, his, Wade’s. What a mixture. Fuck. For a moment he considers burying his face in it, smelling your combination and fucking himself to completion on the scent of home. At least he has the strength to resist that.

His cock is leaking when he pulls it out. Red, thick, pulsing in his hand as he wraps his fingers around it. Logan growls out a little noise of pleasure as he starts to work himself. He finds his hips bucking up pathetically into his own grasp but he knows it isn’t enough: if he’s going into a rut he’s going to need someone to help him through it. Look at him. Fucking pitiful old man jerking himself off because he has no control over his own body. What sort of partner would he make for you both?

“Logan, we just wanted to check you’re… oh.”

And then there you both are. In the doorway, eyes open and very much fixed on what he’s doing to himself. He can see the way Wade’s pupils dilate, how you lick your lips at the sight of his cock. 

“I mean, you could have told us you needed to bust one o–” you elbow Wade in the ribs, wiping the grin off of his face.

“Logan, honey,” you whisper, voice syrupy sweet. Oh shit. Another wave of pre dribbles down his knuckles and he hears Wade suck in a breath. “Do you need us to help?”

He can only grit his teeth and nod. He’d do anything to feel another set of hands on him right now.

Instead, he feels two.

Wade sits down on his right, you on his left. He doesn’t expect Wade to kiss him but he’s not exactly complaining about it either, not when the mercenary’s tongue swipes across his and it tastes so good. Your lips attach to the sweet spot of skin between his earlobe and his jaw and start to bite. Logan moans into Wade’s mouth as you nibble on him, tracing his pulse with your teeth.

When Wade pulls back it’s only to catch the back of your head and press your mouth to Logan’s too with a gravelly, “your turn.” Without debate you take over, kissing him softly but passionately, moaning against his lips. Your hand bumps against his, encouraging him to move it, and he does so dutifully - and it’s him moaning when you wrap around his cock.

“Fuck, look at that. Hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and I used to subscribe to a lot of OnlyFans,” Wade murmurs, and Logan nearly yelps when he feels your hand get heavier on him. He glances down to see Wade has wrapped his fingers around yours so that you can both jerk him off at the same time. Fuck. Fuck. 

“Is this good?” you breathe, eyes wide. Logan can only groan and nod, and then suddenly he’s coming - a train to his guts, trickling down over both of you and choking out an amalgamation of your names. 

He feels you pull back, then hears you whisper “oh fuck” when he’s still hard.

“I told you!” Wade hisses. “I told you I thought he could go for multiple rounds!”

You press your fingers into his mouth to shut him up, making him lick Logan’s spend off your knuckles. He does so with surprising obedience. 

“‘S a biological thing,” Logan says through gritted teeth, still aware he’s throbbing even though he’s just had an orgasm, “gotta be inside someone to make it calm down.”

Your eyes widen. You and Wade look at each other.

“Do… do you have a preference?” you ask, voice low. He shakes his head.

“No. It’ll probably end up bein’ both of you by the end of the night.”

From the way the two of you light up, it’s as if he’s just announced that Christmas has come early. He watches, dumbstruck, as the two of you slap your fists into your palms, the same ones who just gave him the first non self-eked orgasm in years, and say in unison:

“Rock-paper-scissors-shoot!”

Your paper covers Wade’s rock. You grin and he grumbles.

“Fine, I’m more of a top, anyway…”

Logan watches the two of you begin to strip properly. If he had his senses about him this is something he’d enjoy doing himself, seeing every inch of soft curve you have to offer, the strong plain of Wade’s abdomen. But all he can do is stare with need as you unveil yourselves to him, two perfect presents he’s allowed to indulge in.

Wade’s hard, you’re pretty fucking soaked as you lay down on the bed in front of him, tapping his bicep to indicate the fact he’s still wearing his flannel shirt.

“This needs to come off,” you state, authoritatively. Well, fuck. That sends a roll of electricity down Logan’s spine which he wasn’t expecting. He starts to tug at it, pulling the material over his head as Wade fiddles with his jeans.

“These too big boy,” Wade mumbles, and he lets himself be handled by the two people he knows are sincere about looking after him. Together your abandoned clothes make a mess of the bedroom and Logan feels himself throb at the idea of being at the centre of the chaos.

“C’mere,” you sigh, opening your arms to him. Logan wastes no time in accepting the invitation, moving so that he’s above you and you’re able to part your legs to make room for his bulk. Any other time, any other time, he’d want to stretch this out. Maybe eat you out for a while as Wade is forced to watch, or vice versa… but right now all he can do is thrust wildly at your folds, feeling the blunt head of his cock slide against your wetness.

“C’mon loverboy, you can do it,” Wade whispers in his ear, and suddenly a scarred hand is wrapping around his length to guide him inside of you. Logan hisses as he sinks in with one fluid motion. You suck air in through your teeth, grinning up wildly at him.

“Fuck, Logan, that’s it…”

“How does he feel, baby?” asks Wade from where he’s reaching into the side table, though Logan’s whole body is so preoccupied with being inside a warm, wet hole that he can’t in that moment fathom why.

“Fucking fantastic,” you breathe as Logan starts to fuck you properly. There’s no rhythm to it, just utter desperation, just chasing that orgasm which will relieve him of the weight and languidness in his bones. You breathe roughly, the hair on his chest scratching your tits as they bounce up and down. You throw your head back and he buries his face in your neck, where your scent is strongest, and he knows he’s gonna have to go all night at this rate.

A finger circles his hole and for a second he freezes, throwing a glance over his shoulder.

Wade is lining himself up in position behind him, bottle of lube in one hand, the other teasing at his entrance. The mercenary cocks a brow.

“What, you never had someone fuck you like this before? Gimme a break, peanut. The amount of flannel and leather you wear, you’ve known you’re bisexual for a long time.”

If he had more control over his speech he’d bite something back at Wade, but right now…? Yeah. He wants Wade to fuck him like he’s fucking you.

“Go hard. I can take it,” he growls, continuing to plow down, sinking his cock impossibly deeper into your tight heat and making you squeal. He hears Wade whisper a prayer of thanks to whatever god is listening and then he presses two long, lubed fingers inside him.

It’s a strange intrusion. Logan hasn’t had someone there for a long while now. That’s not to say it isn’t good, because holy shit it feels amazing to fuck back onto Wade’s hand as he move his hips against you. Wade does as he’s been bid, stretching him open roughly and wantonly, pouring more out of the little bottle when needed to ease his access. A third finger is added and every time Logan moves back to drive further into you, he feels himself hit Wade’s knuckles. 

“Holy shit,” Wade mutters, “look at you, peanut! Taking me like a champ. You reckon I could fit my whole hand inside, or…?”

“If you don’t put your dick to good use in the next ten seconds I’m gonna rip it off,” Logan snarls, needy and ferocious. Wade doesn’t have an answer to that, instead positioning himself behind him and holding onto Logan’s hips to make him go still. You mewl at the loss of movement but it isn’t for long - Wade sinks himself balls deep inside of Logan, filling him to the brim.

“Fu-uu-uu-ck,” Wade groans, eyes rolling back, then to you: “you’re right, baby. This is pretty goddamn fantastic.”

You smile up at him from beneath both men, reaching up so you can take his hand in yours and squeeze his fingers in the solidarity of sharing a man you’ve both been fantasising about since you met him for the first time at that dingy bar.

Then Wade starts to move, and Logan loses himself.

It’s messy and uncoordinated, but fuck does it feel good to ride out his rut sandwiched between two partners. Each time Wade presses down his hips, his head hitting that spot inside that’s been neglected for decades, he’s forced to fuck into you. Your cunt makes lewd, thrilled noises as he goes, and you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders to bring him closer. Your tongue swipes the hinge of his jaw and Logan moans, cradled and cared for and adored.

His second orgasm is on the horizon and, with it, a feeling in his cock he hasn’t known for a long time. One he didn’t expect to know again. As Wade dips down to start pressing kisses all over his shoulderblades, Logan moves his mouth to the shell of your ear.

“Gonna knot you,” he manages, and though you can’t be entirely sure what he means, you nod enthusiastically.

“Oh fuck. Yeah. Do it, Logan,” you breathe. Fog floods his mind as he starts chasing his release inside of you, base of his cock swelling. Wade can clearly sense that something is on the horizon and quickens his pace, the idea of all of you finishing together just too good to pass up; Logan feels him catch his elbow and manoeuvre his hand towards where your hips meet his.

“C’mon Logan, if we don’t all cum it’s no fun,” he chuckles. Logan gets the picture and moves so that he can press his callused thumb into your clit and work rough circles there. When you gasp in pleasure so hard that your eyes roll back in your head, he knows it’s working. 

Fuck. He can’t last much longer. Wade fucks down into him, the heat in his stomach builds, and then—

It’s like fireworks.

He feels his knot force its way along the straining length of his cock and you gasp and squeeze him as it locks into place inside of you. He floods you with his cum, biting down on a pillow as it rocks him to his very core, keeps moving his hand and then you’re there with him, walls fluttering as you let out a string of very colourful language. Wade’s head tips forward to rest on his back as he empties himself inside of Logan, his hot seed spilling out and dripping onto the mattress below.

The three of you collapse for a moment to catch your breaths. Then suddenly your hand is slapping his arm.

“Fucking move, you two. You’re crushing me…”

“Oop,” Wade breathes, pulling out of Logan and making him hiss with the loss of contact, but meaning that he can roll over and have you rest comfortably on top of him. You sigh, happier now, nestling your head into Logan’s chest. Wade runs his fingers over the seam where you’re connected.

“So what, this just stays like this for…?” he leaves the end of the sentence open. Logan hums, pretty fucking blissful.

“‘Bout half an hour. Not too long.”

You prop yourself up on your elbow to look at him. He can feel his cum ripple inside you obscenely, Wade’s own dripping out of his fucked-out hole. 

“You feel better now?” you breath, dropping a kiss on his pectoral.

“Yeah. Thanks. I, uh, appreciate it,” he manages. You and Wade grin at each other.

“Any time, pookie. Just remember, next time I have first dibs on that monster dong,” Wade states, slapping the side of his ass like he’s a prime piece of meat… but hey, maybe he is. Maybe he doesn’t mind so much if it’s coming from someone he cares about.

His cock twitches inside of you.

“Oh fuck, Logan, again…?”

“It lasts a few days,” he confesses. 

“A few days… I’m gonna go get the sandwiches. Well need sustenance for the road ahead,” Wade states, rushing out to the kitchen without even bothering to tug his sweatpants back on. Logan gives an affectionate chuckle and then, for a moment, it’s just you and him.

“Really,” he mutters, “thank you. Dunno what I’d have done if you two weren’t there.”

Your fingers come to tangle in his hair.

“Logan, honey. You don’t have to thank us. We love you,” you say, simply, and it stirs his heart in a way he hasn’t felt for a long time now.

Yeah. Maybe it'll take some time to say it out loud but loves you both, too.

[bunnys-kisses]

the group chat (max's version)

max verstappen

cw: smut/pwp, filming, exhibitionism, yacht sex, alcohol, semi-public sex, missionary, loud & sloppy,

bunny says: this is part of a multi-part series where each chapter is with a different driver. each revolving around the idea of the driver's group chat, how would they film you two fucking for the enjoyment of the others?

want another driver? find your fave here!

the group chat was an infamous piece of insight into the lives of formula one drivers. at least that's what people thought, in all honesty it was rather boring. there was some gossip here and there, but for the most part it was rather quiet.

until the drivers woke up to a pretty big file sent to the chat. labeled "3gO395867CB.mp4" this video gave no indication of what the contents were and only the most curious of the drivers opened it.

"you ready, mijn liefje?" max's voice came from behind the camera. he had it propped up against something and walked to where you were.

the viewer of the video could clearly make out your naked boat, seated on the top part of max's boat. you had your arms stretched out slightly behind you and your ankles crossed. the look in your eye read how dedicated you were to max.

he stood close to you and reached out. his thumb grazed you bottom lip as he said, "you didn't answer me."

you replied, "ready as i'll ever be."

"you know they're watching." he said as he peeled off his briefs and stepped out of them. your lips went right for his cock, but he grabbed you by the hair to stop you, "not today."

he got down beside you and his hands were all over you. especially the hand that snaked between your legs. his lips were at your neck where he was leaving a trail of pretty bruises.

he fingered you while he kissed your neck, he soaked in your moans knowing that the camera was capturing every second of their intimacy on the boat. max verstappen's cute girlfriend, the one who always knew how to light him up after a bad loss.

there you were on camera while your three-time championship boyfriend fingered the fuck out of you. your noises were pornographic, it made max's cock twitch.

"jij bent mijn brave meid, toch?"

you nodded, "ja schatje." your response was almost fluent dutch, which made the champion chuckle before he pulled you in for another searing kiss.

he laid out out on the couch and felt up your body, "look at the camera and tell them how you're feeling." his voice was a comforting feeling but it still made you run hot.

his touch was electric, "tell them." he encouraged.

it took a few moments to build up courage before you waved to the camera as if you weren't naked and about to be fucked. "hi, guys." you said, "um, i guess we're going to put a show on for all of you today." you giggled, "so enjoy."

"tell them how you feel?"

"sunburnt..." there was a pause, "and horny. we were drinking earlier which led to this happening." you looked up at max, "so you better fuck me off before you wrapped your arms around his neck.

he kissed at your heated cheeks, "always will." before he lifted your hips and got you in the right position to slip his cock inside of you. he fit like a glove with little resistance. he made a noise like air was caught in his throat before he coughed out, "neuken."

you two have had sex multiple times. it wasn't a surprise that your pussy was just too good for him. but every time he forgets how good it felt. you wrapped your legs around him.

the sound of the water hitting the boat accompanied the sounds of your heavy breathing and moaning. there was no telling exactly where you were other than it was quiet enough for you to be fucking on the deck and it was a bright sunny day out.

max went in for another searing kiss as he continued to thrust into you. your body moved against him as he laid his chest against yours. your hands explored his toned back, nails dug into the skin when he hit a particular spot.

the kisses you sloppy and loud, paired with your moans and the peacefulness of the ocean. the viewer was left to wonder if anyone could even catch you. maybe that was the risk of it all, the idea of being caught.

he still tasted like the gun and tonics he had earlier. his face kissed by the sun till it was red. sweat down his bare back as he thrusted up into you. you could almost forget that this entire thing was being filmed.

max's praises were sloppy as were his kisses. the fire in your belly burned hot as he continued to move against you. you raked your nails down his back as he rutted into you.

"cum for me" he panted, "i want them to see what face you make when i make you feel good."

you panted, a sarcastic comment hung on your tongue but never came out. your head was too flushed with hot pleasure. you tensed up around him and finished with a loud moan.

max drank in the sight of you hyped up on intense pleasure. he flashed a knowing smile to the camera. he may be sharing the intimate moment between you two, but it didn't mean he was going to share you.

it was loud, sloppy fucking on a yacht. a symbol of power and wealth that max had at his disposal. you kept your legs around him as he continued to thrust into you.

when pleasure sank its teeth into him, he grabbed you by the meat of your hips and gave two hard thrusts of his hips before he spilled himself into you. he coated the inside of your pussy with white cum.

"holy shit."

"max."

"i know. catch your breath." he replied as he pushed hair out of your face. even blissed out you looked like his dream girl. what a special little thing you were!

max then slowly pulled out and let you be laid out on the couch. your breathing was heavy and your skin glowed in the afternoon light. felt lightheaded as you watched the driver get up to turn off the video.

the camera got a good view of max's cock, shiny with your wetness as he picked up the device and turned off the video. the file ended.

the message attached to the video was, "what mine isn't yours. don't ask for a taste. if tomorrow's race goes well, then you'll get another one."

[klipkillakai]

Connie and bae getting into an argument about his friendship with his ex Sasha and she walks out mid argument because he was tryna defend their friendship. She leaves and doesn’t show up until like two weeks later because she knows he’s crazy about her and she wants to test his loyalty (basically seeing if he would come look for her or not) I’ll leave the rest up to you

inner peace 🎋

“i keep telling you about that bitch connie” you spit while throwing clothes in the washing machine with a harshness as your fuming with anger, your not a jealous person.. never, you respect boundaries and you think it’s reasonable for your man to have friends within the opposite sex, within certain bounds, but sasha.. sasha clearly likes him, the way she finds any way to touch him, the way she brightens her voice when talking to him, the way she looks at you when he’s not paying attention, and the way you know she’s had the pleasure of being all over you man’s dick at some point..

you hear connie’s heavy footsteps walk down the hall, knowing he’s looking for you—

“you say that every time she comes over mama, i keep trynna tell you we just friends”

you roll your eyes “please connie.. she be all over you, “oh connie you so funny” “connie remember when we was together and we did this” “connie remember the time i did a split on it” you say pissed as hell can’t believing she actually say that..

you hear a sigh “she’s just joking, you know that—

you look up “don’t tell me what i fucking know connie, cs your really starting to piss me off” you push pass him and start walking towards the living room

“bro you need to relax alright, your acting like a bitch right now..”

you stop walking and you turn around to face him, “i’m acting like a what?”

he smacks his teeth “man you heard me”

you just stare at him, feeling the anger of all those times, you watched her flirt with him and he seemingly flirting back, the small touches.. the whispers and the stank looks caught up to you in that one moment until now, does he even want you? why is he fighting so hard for her? does he have that same loyalty when it comes to you? i guess we gon find out..

“fuck you connie” you spit out with a potent venom, you make a show of climbing up the stairs and ripping open the hall closet to grab your suitcase and duffel bag

connie’s heart sinks knowing he fucked up, he quickly runs up the stairs and follows you, he sees you packing up your stuff and his heart stutters

“where you going?” you don’t say anything, shoving all your clothes in your bag, opening the drawer and discreetly grabbing your passport and stack he had left in there and you shove it your duffel..

“you must not want this like you claim” you say calmly “your willing to call me a bitch over your ex who i say clearly makes ME uncomfortable” “where is your loyalty to me connie? why aren’t you defending ME?” you say and stare up at him with unshed tears in your eyes.. so guess what.. i’m going away and i’m gonna let you think about where your loyalty lies..

connies mouth slightly agape, not knowing what to say, he never thought this what happen, he never thought you would leave him like this, “imma fix this jus don’t leave” he starts stuttering out, he watches you grab all your bags and walking down the stairs “baby- FUCK please don’t leave” he says rubbing a hand down his head, at this point panicking over the thought of not seeing you again..

you don’t care, you’ve had enough and you need him to see, you slip on your crocs by the door and you walk outside, connie closely following, you throw all your shit in your car and you get in quicker than connie can catch you and you lock it so can’t get in, he banging on the door, pleading for you to not leave—

“please baby don’t” “don’t fucking do this y/n”

“GET OUT THE FUCKING CAR” he starts pulling on the door—

you start the car and you pull out, as connie starts following, trying to run with the car, but you speed off not giving a fuck..

connie stands in the middle of the road, yelling profanities, loosing his shit, he walks back in the house, and punches the wall, leaving a hole..

the first night you spend at your friends house, crying telling her what happened as you head you phone buzzing constantly, flooding for texts from connie and his friends, you didn’t care tho, you decided you was gon book a trip to costa rica, you have the money and you just want to get away..

a week has passed and connie wakes up, with a massive headache, he’s drunken and cried himself to sleep more than he wants to admit, he misses you, his baby, he misses waking up next to you and getting food with you, he misses your mind, your laughter, the peace you give him, and your gone

he’s reflected this passed week and he realizes his relationship with sasha is inappropriate, and it was confirmed when he called to cut her off, she called you all types of bitches and insecure and he realizes he been the biggest fucking idiot, and how much grace you’ve given him.. now he doesn’t know where you are, you blocked him and your friends refuse to tell him where you are, he stands up from the bed and decides to shower, he knows he should clean up the room but.. he needs to clean himself first,

—music floods the house soon after, and connie is shirtless fixing the hole in the wall, fixing the drywall with a white paste, he gets a ding cutting his music off for a second and he looks at his phone hoping it’s you, it’s eren and he reads the texts “this yo girl?”

connie’s brows furrow and watches the friends only story and sees you on a beach somewhere, just glowing, eyes looking brighter than he’s seen in awhile, your humming along to some song in spanish and it your with a group of people, someone says something in the background and you let out a soft giggle before the video ends..

connie feels his heart sink, not because you’ve done anything bad or anything like that, but he’s sees your thriving, you look better, you’ve gained a little weight, you look well rested and that makes him look like a shit person, had he been that draining? was his relationship with sasha stressing you out that much? why didn’t he listen to you? why didn’t he believe you?

he slams his phone down, climbing up the stairs abandoning, his project, just wanting to roll up that point and sleep—

-two weeks later-

you sigh as you walk off the plane, neck pillow around your neck and headphones over your ears, you can still feel the sway of the water all over your body, you can still feel the warmth of the sun and you can still taste the sweetness of the fruit on your tongue, you unblocked connie on the plane and watched all the texts pop up on your phone, you’ve forgiven him at this point and now you think about him, you miss him, you miss his smile, his jokes, him dancing around the house.. his dick, everything..and your glad to be back home..

connie hasn’t seen you in three weeks and at this point he’s lost a bit of hope, the only peace he finds is when he wakes up early and heads to the gym, he hasn’t been much of a gym rat, he has been here in there but he’s started taking it more seriously, to distract himself, he drops the weight finishing his set, he gets a notification from his phone and sees its from ring, thinking it’s a package or something he almost clicks out but then he realizes it says door unlocked and his heart skips a beat, he grabs his bag and water and almost runs out the gym, he gets in his car and speeds off, hoping it’s you, hoping your finally home—

you walk inside and set your bags down, looking around “connie?” you yell, looking throughout the house and quickly realizing he’s not home, you walk downstairs and open the fridge grabbing a coconut water and sipping on it as you tap on your phone, you had gotten a fresh set of a acrylics before you came home and you love them so much..

30 mins pass and your listening to music as you cook some sausages in the pan, your stomach grumbling with hunger, you hear the door unlock and you slightly jump, heart skipping a beat.. you put down the spatula and quietly walk towards the foyer, hearing keys jiggling and shoes being kicked off..

you stand there, his back turned alway from you, a duffel on his shoulder and flowers in his hand and he finally turns towards you and your quickly met with a look of shock that morphs into a soft smile

“hi” you whisper, he slowly walks towards you “hi” he whispers back..

you run towards him and jump on him, legs wrapping around his waist and arms wrapping around his neck, he drops everything in his hand and wraps his arms tightly around you, he presses kisses all over your head and cheeks, whispering “im so sorry” and “i love you so much” “please don’t leave me again” you press a kiss to his lips and he walks further in living room and sits on the couch with you in his lap..

“how was your trip?” he whispers, staring at you like a hawk, trying to capture your face, in a way he never forgets anything about you again..

“peaceful” you whisper and softly wipe the tear slowly gliding down his cheek, you squeeze his arms and notices there firmer and stronger than usual and he jus smiles “i’ve been at the gym” you smile amused and nod “i like it” he softly grabs your cheek and kisses you..

you both know that you’ve changed and that your relationship will be different than before, but for the better, you guys are stronger than before and that gives you the peace you both have been looking for, inner peace..

——————————————————————————

|a/n|

chile i don’t think i’ve ever written angst before, i definitely think i could do a little better but, i didnt want it to be too depressing fr, but lmk if you want a part two for some smut 🤭, also sorry girl for taking so long to reply, school be kicking my ass fr!! but guysss send me more requests this was sooo fun!! i know for me that i want to see very specific things in fics or like smut, and the best way to make that possible is when you inbox the writer, so inbox me fr!!! i don’t bite ���

[pure-smut]

inexperienced.

featuring: Itadori Yuji x f!reader

contains: first time s*x, friends to lovers, cunnilingus, mildly dom!yuji, virgin!yuji x virgin!reader

note: all characters are over 18!

MDNI | 18+ content

word count: 2.7k

masterlist

a/n: I adapted a story I'd already written bc re-reading it made me realise it's perfect for Yuji lol

Itadori Yuji and you were always the subject of the “will they, won’t they” debate in high school – as if you couldn’t be friends with someone of the opposite sex without wanting to fuck them. The truth is, you’d always viewed Yuji completely platonically. He’s easy to be with, makes you laugh, and you have way more in common than any of our other friends. You're even going to the same university.

The night of your graduation party, you're both tipsy at some guy’s house party and giggling in the corner while you watch a boy in your year helplessly flirt with the head cheerleader.

“Bless him,” you say. “He’s trying his best.”

“Can’t blame the guy for giving it a shot – it’s more than some people do,” Yuji agrees, leaning with his back against the wall.

“Yeah, it’s better than endlessly pining.”

He casts you a sidelong look but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he takes a long swig of his beer.

“You got your eye on anyone tonight?” he asks, changing the topic. You shake your head.

“Nope. I’ve fully accepted that I'm going to graduate a virgin.”

“Yeah, we’re both going to suck at college with no experience.”

“It’s a bit easier for me, I think,” you say, shrugging. “Blowjobs aren’t hard.”

“How would you know?” Yuji laughs.

“I just know!” A hint of defensiveness crawls into your voice. “Anyway, you’ve got the harder job. D’you even know where the clit is?”

Yuji’s cheeks go pink and you think you might have gone too far. You open your mouth to apologise but he interrupts you before you can.

“Are you offering to help?”

You stare at him for a long moment, not quite registering what he’s said. He’s wearing an easy grin but his hands are shaking as he takes a sip from his beer. To be frank, you’ve never entertained the thought of anything romantic or sexual with Yuji, despite all the peer pressure. He’s just Yuji to you. Not a potential boyfriend or even one-night stand.

But then your mind begins to whir, seriously considering him for the first time. You think of losing your virginity in college to someone you haven’t even known that long. Someone you might not trust fully. Maybe even someone who you find out, too late, is an asshole and the memory of your first time becomes tainted.

And then there’s the experience part – you don’t really want to go into college a virgin. You don’t want to fumble around in the dark, unsure of yourself. You want to go in a fully-realised woman, a sexy one who knows what she’s doing.

You’ve been quiet for too long because Yuji shoots you a worried glance and clears his throat awkwardly.

“Listen, I was just joking-”

“I think we should do it.”

The words fall out of your mouth before you can stop them. Yuji’s eyebrows shoot up and he freezes, the tips of his ears turning pink.

“R-really?” he stammers out, his previous grin wiped off his face.

“Yeah. I mean, for practice. Before we go to college, right?”

“Practice what?”

“I guess… all of it?”

You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard and he shifts uncomfortably on the spot. You suddenly realise you’ve gone too far.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Yuji. You were just kidding around and I took it too seriously.” You avert your eyes, cheeking burning. “You can ignore me.”

“No, no, you didn’t.” He leans in close and lowers his voice. “I just didn’t think you were going to say yes.”

“Oh.” You get a waft of his aftershave – something dark and sweet. “So, you were being serious?”

“Yeah.”

You look at each other, pressed together in the throng of the party, and you’re suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

“We… we can’t do it now, obviously,” you say, breaking eye contact. “We’re drunk. And stupid.”

“Yeah. Of course.” Yuji shifts awkwardly again. You glance down and spot the bulge in his jeans.

“Wha… You have a boner?”

“Keep your voice down! Yeah, the thought of getting a blowjob gives me a boner, shoot me.” He rolls his eyes. You trail your eyes over him.

“Is it the thought of getting a blowjob or the thought of getting one from me, specifically?” you ask.

He presses his lips together and rubs the back of his neck.

“You,” he mumbles.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“From you,” he says between gritted teeth. You smirk.

“Why, Yuji, you didn’t realise I had that effect on you,” you say, batting your eyelashes. Secretly, a thrill runs through your chest. He groans and puts his beer down.

“I’m leaving before your head gets too big to fit through the door.”

He turns away but you grab his hand and he glances back at you.

“Come round to mine tomorrow night. My parents are out,” you tell him. It’s only two sentences but they’re so loaded with possibility that your throat goes dry. Yuji licks his lips and nods, once, before exiting.

*

As soon as your parents leave, you’re in panic mode.

Yuji texts to say he’ll be around in an hour so you take a hot shower and carefully shave everywhere below the neck. You have one pair of lingerie you own, bought more out of curiosity than with a goal of wearing it for anyone, so you put it on. It’s black and lacy and slightly uncomfortable but as soon as you look in the mirror, it’s like you see a different person. A woman. Sophisticated and sexy. Your heart sets off at a gallop as you throw a silky dressing gown over the top of it and wait for Yuji.

He arrives an hour later on the dot. You jump up from your bed when he texts to say he’s outside and scurry down the stairs, a ball of nervous energy. You open the door and watch his jaw drop.

“Jesus,” he exclaims, even though he can’t see the lingerie yet. You drag him inside before any of the neighbours see.

“It’s no big deal,” you say even though your heart is thumping so loud you’re pretty sure he can hear it.

“You look… fuck…” he breathes.

“I look fuck?”

“No, you-” He stops when he sees you’re grinning at him. He smiles back and shakes his head. “You look amazing.”

“Thanks.” It’s not the first time he’s complimented you before but usually it’s a “Oh, you look nice” or something. This feels different and heat crawls up your neck. Yuji clears his throat.

“So, you still want to…?”

“Practice? Yeah.” You gesture up to your room even though he’s been to your bedroom hundreds of times before.

We head up in silence, the tension so thick in the air it feels like treacle. You sit side by side on the bed and you gnaw at your thumbnail, not sure where to go from here.

“I think… this is really awkward,” Yuji says and your stomach drops.

“Have you changed your mind?”

“No, not at all,” he says quickly and half-turns to you. “But I think we’re, like, forcing it a bit too much?”

“Yeah.” You chew your bottom lip. “You’re probably right. What should we do?”

He glances at the rest of the bed before snaking his hand around your waist.

“Here,” he says and lays back, pulling you next to him. “Let’s just cuddle for now.”

You draw a relieved breath and lay draped over him, your cheek pressed against his chest and your leg slotted between his thighs. You’ve been physically close before, like when you fell asleep on his shoulder while you watched a movie, but you’ve never… cuddled. You realise you like it. You wrap your arm around his toned stomach and pull yourself in closer. Yuji chuckles, his breath ruffling your hair.

“You cosy?”

“Mhmm. How come you never told me how cosy you were?”

“Top secret information,” he replies, his hand resting on your waist.

This is nice, you think. Deep down, something inside you wants it to happen again. You feel yourself relax against him, warm and firm.

“Hey,” Yuji whispers and you look up.

His mouth catches yours softly. You melt into it as his hand cups your face and his lips part yours. His mouth tastes of mint. You run your tongue across his. Fuck, has he always been great at kissing? He tilts his head slightly and you instinctively turn in the opposite direction, your mouths fitting together perfectly. He catches your bottom lip between his teeth and you moan into his mouth.

Something presses against your thigh and you realise he’s hard. An animalistic urge to touch and suck it overtakes you and your hand shoots down to his crotch.

“Wait,” he says, slightly breathless. You pull back, confused. “I’ll tell you when.”

“Okay,” you reply, still confused, but there’s a command in his voice that you can’t ignore. Warmth unspools between your legs at the new gruffness in his voice and the lust in his eyes that you inspired.

“I want to touch you first,” Yuji says before pressing his mouth against yours again.

His hand travels down to untie your dressing gown, flinging it open and exposing your lingerie-clad body to him. You automatically go to cover yourself up but he grasps your wrist, not hard but enough to stop you.

“Leave it,” he says, so you do.

His kiss is still soft but his hands become rougher as he pushes down under the cup of your bra and kneads your breast. No one’s ever touched you there before and you feel like sparks are running through your body. He pinches your nipple and your clit throbs in response. His mouth leaves yours to kiss his way down your neck before closing around your nipple. Pushing gently on your shoulder, he puts you on your back, still sucking.

“Yuji,” you say. “I want to touch you.”

“Not yet.” He repositions himself so he’s laying over you, nudging your knees apart to make space for him between your legs.

“But-”

“Only when I say,” he orders you and you pout.

Yuji only smirks in response and moves further down, planting soft, slow kisses along your stomach as he goes. You get a brief moment of insecurity over what your body looks like, what he must see, but Yuji grabs your hips and holds you in a way that makes all those thoughts disappear.

You expect him to slide off your panties but instead, he pulls them to the side, exposing your bare pussy beneath. You inhale sharply as the cold air hits you, open and vulnerable for the first time. Yuji doesn’t hesitate, running the flat of his tongue deftly across your pussy lips.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, your hips bucking.

You keep your legs spread for him as he moves up to suck gently on your clit. His finger finds your entrance, slick with your arousal, and begins to push in. You’ve fingered yourself before, of course, but it never felt like this. Yuji’s finger is thick and he curves it upwards slightly until the pad of his fingertip grazes against something deep inside you. You give a low moan as pleasure shoots through your body.

He keeps up a slow, relentless pace with his tongue on your clit while he fingers you and you feel yourself opening up to him. Your orgasm builds quickly - too quickly for you to realise what’s happening. You cry out, your back arching and your hands grasping the duvet. Yuji doesn’t stop until you beg him to, your thighs shuddering around his head. When he looks up, his mouth is glistening with your juices.

“Goddamn,” he says, wiping his chin. “That was so fucking hot.”

You try to respond but you’re out of breath. Your chest heaves as he drags himself up until he’s holding himself over you. He brushes a lock of hair from your face.

“I… I need to do you too,” you say weakly, pleasure still tingling through your abdomen.

“No,” he says even as he reaches down to unbuckle his jeans. “I want to see you do that again with my cock inside you.”

You know you can tell him no, but you don’t want to. You want him inside you. You need him inside you. You look up at his face and wonder how you never felt this way before about him.

“Yes,” you say. “Fuck me. Please.”

He makes a noise from his throat, low and dark, and pulls his cock free. you have no basis for comparison but it seems thick and you’re simultaneously thrilled and terrified. Yuji pulls his t-shirt off, throwing it to the side, and you have a newfound appreciation for the firmness of his chest and the definition in his shoulders. You help him tug his jeans off until he’s completely naked on top of you, the heat radiating off him. You run a hand over his hard stomach and down to his cock, grasping it firmly. The tip is shiny with precum.

“God, you have no idea how badly I want you to suck me off.”

“Why don’t I?”

“Because I want to fuck you more.”

The head of his cock nudges against your folds, hard and hot. You’re more than wet enough for him and let your head fall back as he pushes in the first few inches. You sink your nails into his back, feeling him stretch me.

“Jesus,” he gasps. “Fuck. You feel amazing.”

You can only whimper in response, your pussy gripping him as he withdraws and hungrily pulling him back inside as he sinks even deeper. You move your hips in time with his, meeting him halfway until he’s fully buried inside you. You expected pain but there is none, only the raw pleasure from his cock rubbing against the sensitive walls of your pussy. Yuji starts to move at a steady pace, each stroke pushing you closer to another orgasm. He moves to support himself on one arm while the other plays with your tits. His fingers tease and pinch your nipples, catching you in complete ecstasy.

“Cum for me,” he growls, his eyes moving from where his slick cock is sliding in and out of you to your face. “Cum on my cock.”

You open your mouth to say something but only a lustful moan escapes. You reach back to grab the headboard, the bed rocking beneath you with the force of his fucking.

“Yuji, I…” You don’t get to finish your sentence. A tidal wave crashes over you as your pussy contracts around him in a vice-like grip. You wrap your legs closer around him, holding him to you. You buck and shudder underneath him but he doesn’t let up. It’s only when you push him back, your hands on his chest, that he slows down.

He withdraws completely, pulling his cock free and leaving you feeling empty. You reach for him but he’s already grabbing you by the hips and turning you over.

“On your knees,” he instructs, his voice thick.

You do as he says despite your head being foggy with post-orgasm bliss. You bend over, pressing your cheek against the pillow and arching your back. Yuji smooths a hand over your ass cheek before slapping it.

You yelp, feeling the sting of his handprint but you find yourself enjoying it. Your pussy drools for him, your arousal dripping down the inside of your thigh.

“This is even better than I imagined,” he breathes.

You don’t have time to register what he means before he’s lining the head of his cock up with your hole again.

This time when he presses inside you, the ridges of his cock rub against somewhere new. It’s even more electrifying and you push your hips back, wanting him to go deeper. He quickly obliges, grabbing your hips hard enough to mark you and slamming his cock inside. His balls slap off your thighs and he grunts with satisfaction. you can feel yourself getting wetter at the thought of him looking down at you, watching himself fuck you.

“I’m… I’m gonna cum,” he groans.

“Inside me. Please,” you whisper.

You hear him moan, long and loud, as his cock spasms. You feel him unleash a torrent of cum, filling you to the brim. He doesn’t withdraw straight away, catching his breath and stroking your back, but when he does, his cum spills out and down your thigh. You roll over onto your back as he collapses on the bed next to you. He gives you a lazy grin.

“Best practice ever.”

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[ln4bub]

Public sex with oscar, other people getting off on it without them knowing or like them getting caught or maybe even oscar cuming in yn secretly in front of everyone, just anything voyeur with oscar please 😭

People would never ever guess the things that you and Oscar got up to behind closed doors, and even sometimes open ones. Oscar always got off on the idea of people seeing what he does to you, showing them how well he knows your body. They never question it when his driver’s room door is conveniently left unlocked whilst you celebrate his race, or when he licks his fingers after his hand comes up from below the table at dinner.

Sure they notice how affectionate he is, kissing your cheek and wrapping his arms around you from behind. But they’ve never heard the filthy words he whispers to you about how easy it would be to lift up your little skirt and stuff you full. Or so you thought.

Lando is the first to notice, given the amount of time he spends around you both. He notices the way Oscar often has a hand on you, leaning in too often to whisper something discreetly in your ear. It was at dinner that the truth first came together. Oscar’s hand had been under the table for a while, him eating his dessert with just one hand. You however, hadn’t eaten an ounce of yours. When Lando looked over to you he noticed how flushed you were, how your eyelids fluttered and how your lips seemed more tempting you than the dessert.

His eyes trailed over you, following them down to where Oscar’s hand seemingly rested on your legs. From his vantage point he could see the way Oscar’s arm was flexing rhythmically, his hand moving ever so slightly. His eyes widened as he realised what his shy teammate was doing. He won’t lie and say the thought didn’t have him straining against his jeans slightly, especially when he spotted how calmly Oscar was watching him. Oscar winked at his teammate, a finger coming to his lips in a shh-ing motion. Lando swallowed dryly, nodding as he continued to glance all night, especially when Oscar licked his fingers clean.

Oscar had continued his public acts, often finding himself two fingers deep inside you as you struggled to stay quiet. But he loved the busy clubs, when the drivers booked a VIP booth and no one paid any attention to anything other than alcohol. After the end of his first season in Formula One he was itching to celebrate, aching to get you alone. Once Oscar realised this was unlikely to happen, he’s formed a plan. A plan that culminated in this moment, you on his lap in a club, whilst some other occupants of the grid watched on.

Lando again had been the first to notice, your cheeks flushing at Oscar’s words. “Imagine being stuffed full in this club, nobody would know how deep I am inside you baby.” He cooed in your ear, large hands sliding up and down your exposed legs. It took George and Fernando arriving with more shots for you to agree, firm in your decision that everyone else was preoccupied.

You wriggled in Oscar’s lap, finding a comfortable position that didn’t look too suspicious. You hovered over him as he slipped his member out of his jeans. He bit back a groan as you slid yourself down, your warm walls encasing him. “So fucking tight aren’t you?” He whispered in your ear, “Such a slut for me.” You whimper lightly, burying your head in his neck as you start a subtle grinding motion against him.

“That’s it, use me where anyone could see you. Do you like that idea?” Oscar coos, “That anyone here could look over and see how needy and desperate you are.” His hands squeeze your hips as he rolls you against him, groaning in your ear at the feeling if you wrapped around him. Oscar’s grateful for the booming music, grateful that no-one can hear you moaning for him. You hear Oscar chuckle lightly from your position, looking up at him in confusion. “Don’t stop sweetheart, but we have a small audience.” Oscar tells you, your heart stopping at his words.

He smirks at the way your walls clench around him before beckoning the audience member over. You hear someone sit next to the pair of you behind the table, Oscar greeting him with a nod. “Took you a while to notice this time mate.” Oscar says, your ears barely picking up the scoff of your new admirer.

“Keeping her hidden that’s why Oscar, you know I like to see her face. See what you do to her.” Lando’s voice causes a flush to overtake you, your hips grinding harder against Oscar. He groans once more, head tilting back at the feeling of you on top of him. “Oh she’s getting you good this time isn’t she?” Lando laughs, licking his lips as he watches you move.

“You have no idea,” Oscar smirks, “She’s an angel.” He tells his teammate. You whine into his neck as Oscar’s hand wraps in your hair. He tugs lightly, your face emerging from its hiding spot. “I want you to look at Lando baby, he likes your pretty little face.” Oscar mutters, stroking your cheek gently as he grinds his cock into you. Once you make eye contact with Lando your pace increases, joined now by Oscar’s thumb on your clit. Your moan of his name catches the attention of another driver, the warmth of his body emanating from behind you.

“Roped Lando into your little kink too have you?”

The American accent of Logan fills your ears, a soft smile spreading over your lips at the familiar audience member. “It’s hot isn’t it Lando? The way she’d do anything for him. You should see them behind closed doors, absolutely filthy.” Logan muses, hand resting on your hip as he helps you move over his best friend.

“You really should come watch Lando, she loves the extra pair of eyes.” Oscar tells his teammate, “You think she’s dirty now? Wait ‘til you see her on all fours with my dick in her mouth. It’s art.” You can’t help but moan at his words, squirming at the way the three men discuss you. It’s when Lando smiles at the thought of watching you both in private, nodding at Oscar’s proposal, that you tumble over the edge.

Your legs quake and your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. Your walls clench around Oscar as he bites his lip, stifling the loud moan threatening to spill out. You attempt to hide your face once more but Lando holds your head still, studying your face as you cum for his teammate. Oscar grinds into you deeper, the rhythmic clenching driving him to his own orgasm. He shoots his load inside you, whimpering in sensitivity as Logan continues to move your hips.

The pair of you come down with heavy breaths and flushed cheeks, before eventually leaving the club. Trailed by Logan and Lando for a night you’ll never forget.

[thewritingrowlet]

The Loving Wife, ft. Red Velvet Irene

tags: creampie, anal (I think it counts), throatfuck, cum-in-mouth, daddy kink

word count: ~3k

author's note: surprise, mothertruckers

You lean back in your big chair as exhaustion finally settles on your mind and body. You look through the tall glass behind you, “oh, it’s dark already—what time is it?”. You flip your phone on its back and tap the screen twice. “Oh, it’s almost 10”, you murmur, “Irene will kill me”. Irene? The smiling woman on your lock screen? Are you sure?

You’re not sure, but you’re not in the mood to fuck around and find out—not after spending the whole day away from her, making her go through her day by herself. “I’m coming, love; please wait a moment”, you say to your phone, the picture a representation of her being.

It’s nothing but a moment for you, as you find yourself stuck in the sea of cars. “Where are these fools going?”, you wonder. Well, “these fools” are trying to get to their safe havens, just like you are. “These fools” are trying to unwind after working their asses off to provide for them and theirs, just like you are. “These fools” are trying to go to the harbor where their hearts are anchored, just like you are. You chuckle as you think about it, “I guess we’re more alike than we know”.

-

A wave of joy washes over you when you see the black Genesis sedan parked in front of your house. You resist the urge to just stop the car right here as the acute avidness to see your cherished wife is mighty. You park your car in the driveway next to her car and jump out right away.

“I’m home”, you say softly as you turn the handle of your front door. That is correct: you are indeed home. This is the safe haven that you’ve worked hard for and saved up for so that you and your wife have somewhere to unwind after spending long days at work—this is the harbor where your heart is anchored.

You see a lady draped in white run towards you, and another wave of joy washes over you. “My love” is all the greetings you can come up with, as the sight of her takes your breaths away, no matter how frequent you see it. Irene wraps her arms around your frame, fighting your cold with her warmth. There are plenty of sounds you find to be enjoyable, but your lady’s sob is not one of them. “Where have you been? I was so worried about you, honey”, she asks tearily. You put your lips on her forehead to soothe her, “I’m so sorry, my love; I was neck deep in work that I lost track of time”.

You know that you can’t offer comfort when standing up, so you lift her up by her thighs and take her to sit on the sofa. You pet her softly in the back of the head as she sobs to her heart’s content. She finally falls silent after a few minutes and hums softly in rhythm, imitating a cat’s purr. “Feeling better, love?”, you say to her. “Y-yes”, Irene says, “I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to be burdensome to you—I-I’m sure you’re tired, and-and I wasn’t being helpful”. You peck her cheeks thrice, just like how she likes it, “I’m sorry for coming home so late, love; I had so much work to do”. Irene returns the pecks to you, “thank you for working so hard all the time”.

You lay down on the sofa for a cuddle, and you hear Irene’s stomach rumble faintly. “You haven’t had dinner, love?”, you ask her. “We-we were supposed to eat out, r-remember?”, she says. You punch yourself internally as the memory returns to you, “I’m so sorry, love”. Irene used to voice her disappointment whenever you forgot about something, but she ditched that habit when you two got married. “We have sliced beef in the fridge, don’t we? I’ll make us something if you’ll let me go”, you say to her. Irene reluctantly unwraps her limbs from your body, seemingly sad about not touching you.

You open the fridge and grab half an onion and some sliced beef and put them on the counter next to the stove. You throw some minced garlic into a preheated nonstick pan that already has a bit of oil in it and wait until the fragrance fills the kitchen. Since Irene doesn’t really like onion, you cut the onion in half again, only using a quarter of it. You throw the onion—chopped largely so that Irene can avoid it easily—into the pan and cook it down until it’s soft. You look over your shoulder and see that Irene is still on the sofa, presumably asleep. “I hope this meal can convey how much I love you, my dear Irene”, you say to yourself as you dump sliced beef and sauces into the pan.

You put the food on a large plate and reheat some leftover rice in the microwave. You walk to the sofa and take a knee in front of the sleeping beauty. “Irene, my love”, you poke her forearm gently, “let’s eat, baby”. Irene wakes up slowly from her peace, “carry me, love”. You carry Irene on your back and take her to the dining table, and the overwhelming smell wakes her up entirely. “Wow, that looks so good, love!”, she gasps in excitement, “I want to eat! I want to eat!”. You silence the beeping microwave and take the rice out of it. You take a seat in front of your wife as she starts eating excitedly. “Oh my fucking God, that’s so fucking good”, she says. “Love, what did I tell you? Save the profanity for when we’re in bed”, you scold her. “Well, bed is where we will be after this”, she murmurs, not loud enough for you to hear.

You wash the dirty plates and pan after finishing the very late dinner with Irene. Irene stays silent as you do, which is curious, because she usually praises your cooking endlessly while she waits for you. “Did you like it, love?”, you ask her as you’re walking towards her. In your head, you expect Irene to say that she did like it—love it, even—but she says something else. “Daddy”, Irene bites her lip sexily, “I want my dessert”. You know what she means by that, and so does your cock. “You better earn it, then”, you say as you carry her to the bedroom.

Irene shakes herself off your arms and starts kissing you in arousal. She even goes as far as invading the space in your mouth with her tongue. The fact that she’s the one doing all this and is the first to break the kiss is funny—Irene can’t even keep up with herself. “Dad-daddy—fuck”, Irene struggles to breathe, “plea-please, I-I need you—I need my husband’s big cock”. You sit on the edge of the bed and rouse her, “I’ve always told you to work for it if you want something, so come and work for it”.

Irene kneels in front of you and frees your cock from your trousers and boxers. “I can’t live without—”, you cut her off by forcing your cock into Irene’s mouth. These fools only call Irene a cold person because of her front; everything about Irene is anything but cold, take her mouth for example. “Stop talking, start doing”, you command. Irene’s gags sound incredibly hot, and you’re desperate to hear it right now. There’s only one way to achieve that, and that is by fucking her mouth hard. You hold her head with both hands and bounce her on your cock. You feel the tip of your cock reach the back of her mouth, and Irene starts making the gagging sound that you love. “That’s my good wife”, you groan, “fuck, that’s so fucking good”.

You mercilessly fuck Irene’s mouth, sometimes stopping to make sure you don’t hurt her too much—with what you have in mind, however, her voice is guaranteed to disappear after the night ends. “Fuck, I’m getting close”, you announce. Irene looks at you and winks, and you can hear her telling you to cum in her mouth. Once you feel that your cum has accumulated on the tip of your cock, you plug your cock deep in Irene’s mouth and blow your load with a deep groan. You let her head go and Irene pulls away from your cock. She pokes your knee to get your attention. “Yeah, baby?”, you ask, and Irene swallows your cum in one gulp in front of your eyes.

“I—hah, holy fuck—I hope we’re not done”, she says. You shake your head, “we’re far from done, honey—strip, please”. As much as you like seeing Irene in a shirt, it’s not comparable to Irene in nothing. Irene starts her ritual by tying her hair in a bun and biting her lip—she’s making it really hard for you to resist the urge to just rip her clothes off. She reaches for the buttons on her shirt and undoes them one by one, letting the shirt drop to the floor after. “If you’re trying to tease me right now, sweetie, it’s working”, you admit your defeat, “I want to fuck you so bad right now”. She walks towards you after taking off her trousers, “and I want to get fucked by you so bad right now, daddy”.

You tell her to sit on the bed while you leave to get something to cover her eyes with. “I hope you’re down for something naughty, baby”, you say as you show her a silk blindfold. “I was expecting you to have me do the work because you were tired”, she says as she puts on the blindfold herself, “let’s get naughty, daddy”. You help her move to the center of the bed, and since Irene can’t see through the black silk, she doesn’t know that you’re grabbing more silk cloths to tie her limbs with.

“Daddy, where are you?”, Irene sniffs around the bedroom, trying to pick up your scent. You softly rub her cheeks with your thumb, “I’m here, love”. She blindly grabs your hand and guides it to her pussy, “I’m so wet for you, daddy”. You play with the nub of Irene’s pussy with your middle finger, “how bad do you want daddy, hm?”. Irene squirms around as your finger keeps stimulating her, “ahng, ngh, fuck, daddy—I-I need you so fucking bad. Please, daddy, I’m begging you”. You stop fiddling with her clit, “do you trust me, love?”. Irene nods to your question, “I-I’m sure daddy will take care of me”. You peck her lips before tying her hands together. “Next time I tell you to strip, I want you to take everything off—but it’s okay, I forgive you this time”, you say as you unlatch her bra and pull her panties down. Irene whimpers softly as her arousal peaks, “daddy, daddy—ngh, fuck—punish me, daddy; I’ve been naughty”.

You flip Irene onto her stomach and lift her waist up. “Ask nicely, love”, you say to her, your cock hard as rock. “Please-please-please—OH, FUCK”, Irene screams when you put the tip of your cock in her ass, “daddy, it hurts—it hurts so much”. The only thing coating your cock is her spit from the blowjob earlier, “you asked me to punish you, so this is your punishment”. You know that Irene will say the safe word if she wants to stop, so for now, you keep moving forward until your cock is fully lodged in her rear. As you keep fucking her ass, however, Irene lets out screams of pain that sound genuine. You’ve done anal with Irene before, but considering that she wasn’t prepared for this today, you feel bad for doing this, so you retreat from her ass.

You lay Irene on her back and take off her blindfold. “I’m so sorry, baby”, you apologize to your sobbing wife, “that must’ve hurt so bad, right?”. Irene shakes her head, “y-your pleasure comes first, daddy; I-I’ll do whatever you want me to”. You free her wrists so that you can cuddle her properly. “There’s no need for that, love. I’m not more important than you”, you spray kisses on her face, “I’m sorry for acting without consent”. Irene takes off her bra that has been hanging loosely on her arms and throws it away, “c-can we have vanilla now, daddy? I-I can do the work”.

You grant her request and lie down flat on the bed, giving Irene the chance to do whatever she wants. Irene lines up her pussy with your cock and goes down on it until she reaches the base, letting out a long moan as she goes. “I’m so glad I’m married to you”, she says, “ah, ngh—your cock makes me so fucking happy, daddy”. You palm her soft tits that are bouncing in front of your eyes, “I’m glad I’m married to you as well, love—God, fuck, you’re so tight”. Irene plants her hands on your chest and starts fucking herself with your cock, “ah, ah, ah—I-I will always be tight for you, daddy”. If you were to rank the top 3 sounds Irene makes, the order would be her moans, her gags, and then finally her laughs—her moans are simply angelic and deserve the top spot.

Irene keeps bouncing herself rapidly on your cock as she’s more comfortable taking you in the pussy than in the ass. “Daddy, would you let me cum? Please let me cum, daddy”, she begs. You tell her to cum whenever she wants, “you’ve earned it, baby; you’ve been so good”. Irene screams and trembles as she cums, and you feel her pussy squeezing your cock. “Daddy, daddy”, she falls limp on your body, “thank you—ah, fuck—thank you so much”.

You let Irene catch her breath as you whisper praises and affirmations into her ears. “Can I mark you, daddy? I want to show people that you’re mine”, she says. You chuckle, “the ring on my finger already does that, love—but sure, mark me if you want to”. Irene latches her mouth on the side of your neck, kissing and nibbling it to plant her hickeys on your skin. You’re usually the one doing the marking, so you never knew that getting kisses and nibbles in the neck feels this good. “Love, I like having your lips on my neck”, you say. Irene doesn’t say anything and keeps focusing on applying her love mark on you. “That should be enough”, Irene straightens her back, “your turn to mark me now”. She slaps your hands away when you reach your arms out towards her. “No, no, mark me from the inside”, she points at her pussy, “you haven’t cum yet, so give me your cum, please”.

You roll over and get on top of Irene, “you want my cum in your pussy, love?”. “Breed me, daddy”, she rubs your cheeks softly, “I’m so fucking fertile today”. You look at Irene in the eyes, “are you sure? You have a career to chase, love”. Irene rolls her eyes in annoyance, “fine, you’re right; I’ll take the morning after pill then”.

Seeing that you’ve come to an agreement, you start thrusting into her warm core. You’re instantly reminded of how tight she is. “Fuck, love, I don’t think I can last long”, you say, hoping that it won’t disappoint her. “Th-that’s okay, daddy; I won’t last long either”, Irene replies. You guide Irene’s hand towards her pussy, indirectly telling her to touch herself as you’re fucking her.

The two of you are busy with your own tasks: Irene is touching herself and you’re fucking her balls deep. “Ah, ah, I-I think you hit my cervix”, she says between moans, “are you sure you don’t want to breed me, daddy?”. She places your hand on her stomach, “just imagine, daddy; my tummy would start getting bigger and bigger, and I’d be so fucking horny all the time that I’d cum just by humping your thighs”. “What—fuck—what about your career, love?”, you ask, still doubtful about this whole pregnancy thing. Irene moans loudly as she feels the increased pace, “I-I’ll gladly throw it away as long as I get to please you every day”.

You’re still not entirely sold on the idea, but her words make you so damn aroused. You hug her tightly and continue fucking her—you can hear your orgasm knocking at the door. “Babe, I’m cumming”, you announce to her, and Irene tells you that she is about to cum as well. You grit your teeth and release your load deep into her pussy, possibly sending it straight to her cervix. At the same time, Irene shakes as she rides the high of orgasm. You reject her request to stay inside and walk towards the drawer where Irene keeps pills and condoms. You take one pill and a bottle of water and hand them to her. You tell her to take it in front of your eyes to make sure she doesn’t throw it away or something.

“Look, love”, you softly say to her, “I do want to have a child with you, but we haven’t talked about this thoroughly before; me getting you pregnant right now is not wise—I hope you understand, love”. Irene nods, “y-yes, honey. I’ll be patient and make sure that I’m ready for motherhood before you breed me”. You smile gently, “one day, when we’re both ready, we’ll have sex all day long to make sure you get pregnant, okay?”. “God, you’re making me so wet”, Irene says, “I swear I’ll drain every drop of cum out of your cock, honey”.