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spencerreidenjoyer · 7 months ago

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stress relief | spencer reid x reader

wc: 3k, rating: explicit/18+

warning/tags: established relationship, face fucking, blowjobs, vaginal sex, submissive!spencer, whiny!spencer, insecure!spencer (just a little, more like awkward lol), confident (and insanely horny) fem!reader

a/n: i'm back with more pwp!! surprise!!! i have no excuse. i wrote this in about 2 days. i needed to get it out of my system i think this spencer (s3-4) is crazy and perfect and i need him. also thank you for 100 followers on this little reid blog of mine! i hope to keep writing more on here <3

(p.s: you can find this fic on ao3!)

When you get on your knees between Spencer’s legs, looking up at him with wide eyes that spell sin, Spencer knows he’s in for a wild ride.

“You’ve been working too hard, Spence,” you say, shaking your head, speaking like you’re talking about the weather and not like you have a hand on his crotch, steadily stiffening under your touch.

You watch Spencer’s throat bob as he gulps. He blinks quickly, once, twice. “Yeah? You think so?”

“I know so,” you hum, fingers already toying with the button of his work slacks. Spencer had gotten home late from work tonight, but was still fretting over the stacks of reports on his desk in his home office in the apartment you share. After dinner, you’d convinced him to lounge on the couch for a bit, instead of getting back to work – leading you to where you are right now. “I think you need to relieve some of your stress.”

Almost like he’s nervous, his tongue darts out to lick his lips. “What are you thinking?”

“Orgasms release endorphins which contribute to stress relief, no?” You parrot the fun fact Spencer’s told you countless times, a small smirk on your face. As if your hand gently palming his cock hasn’t made your intentions more than obvious.

His eyebrows raise. “Oh. Yeah. Okay.”

“Wow, you could at least sound a little more enthusiastic about your girlfriend giving you head.” You deadpan, but you pop the button of his slacks anyway.

Spencer squeaks. “Sorry. I– I really want you to blow me.”

“I know, darling,” you coo, pulling down the zipper of his fly slowly, feeling the hardness of his cock pressed against it. His underwear is a bright pink when it gets exposed. You chuckle to yourself. “Cute."

Spencer flusters, laughing nervously. “Oh my God. I kind of forgot I was wearing those. Haha. Sorry."

“Baby,” you frown slightly. You’re not mad, not in the slightest, just amused with how he’s acting. You place your hands on his thighs, pausing with any of the action. “Why are you sorry? I think you’re so cute, you know.”

“My head isn’t on straight right now,” Spencer sighs, shaking his head. “I just want– Like, it’s going to be good for me, obviously, because you’re so good at this. I don’t need to want anything. I just– Want this to be good for you too.”

“It’ll be good for me if you stop overthinking it, Spence.” You smile. “It’s chill. Also, when do I not enjoy sucking your cock?”

Spencer covers his face with his hand, but you see him smile, laughing to himself. “You’re so crude, y’know? But I suppose you do really enjoy sucking me off.”

“I know.” You chirp. “And I do."

Your hand is down Spencer’s pants before he can even tell you to go ahead, but he knows that you know he wants it. Spencer hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, taking them off. His cock jumps up and you watch, fascinated with the obscenity of it all. Spencer’s cock curves up towards his stomach, reddening at the tip already.

You wrap your hand around his hardening cock, as you start to jerk him off. He lets out a high-pitched whimper, like he can’t control himself, and he cups a hand over his mouth. His eyes are wide as he stares down at you. You giggle, “It’s cute.”

“It’s kind of embarrassing,” Spencer says, his face a little red already.

You pout. “Come on, Spence. It’s really hot.”

His hand falls from his face to his lap, coming up to cup your cheek gently. “You like it?”

“You’re so sexy.” You nod. “Of course I like it. Now, make those noises for me again, pretty boy.”

Spencer squeaks as you tighten your grip around his cock, eyes fluttering shut as you stroke him. You work him up to full hardness – not that it takes very long for him to get there. You flick your thumb over the head of Spencer’s cock, tease into his slit where he’s steadily leaking already. His precome makes everything slick and sticky, easing the slide of your fist over his length.

Your eyes flit between Spencer’s face and his cock, marvelling at the growing mess in your hand and how his face is slowly but surely revealing his pleasure. He’s flushed, lower lip pulled in between his teeth, as you watch his chest rise and fall. His gaze pierces you, the intensity of how he looks sending shivers down your spine.

Knowing Spencer’s looking down at you, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, pressing it flat against the tip of his cock. Spencer lets out a strangled breath, eyes bugging out at the erotic sight of you between his legs. You wrap your lips around him, suckling gently on the head of his cock. You hope to make Spencer lose his mind like this. With the way he’s breathing heavily, lips parted as he takes in all of you, you think it’s working.

His whines are more frequent, accenting his hard breaths. You see how Spencer doesn’t know what to do with his hands, watch as he digs his nails into the flesh of his palms, and you instead hold him by his wrists to put his hands in your hair. The weight is comforting, and encourages you to sink down on his cock more. You take more than half of him into your mouth, but Spencer being… well-endowed meant that you often never were able to fit all of him in, unless you were in a particular mood.

The tip of Spencer’s cock hits the back of your throat, once it’s slid in. You gag at the intrusion, and Spencer lifts you off of him, slightly freaked out. “Are- Are you okay?”

“Baby, please,” you sigh, endeared but annoyed at the fact that he’s getting in the way of his own pleasure. “Trust me with this. Just focus on feeling good?”

Spencer’s brows furrow slightly, lips drawn into a little pout, but you nod to soothe his concerns. “Spencer, I want you to use me–” You stick your tongue out to lick at his length again, making him shudder. “–Just like this.”

“You want– You want me to…?” Spencer trails off, unsure if he’s picking up what you’re putting down.

“Fuck my face, Spencer,” you say bluntly, tired of flirting in circles. It’s fun flirting with Spencer, because it’s fun to fluster him when he isn’t expecting it, but right now, when he isn’t getting the hint, you need to lay it all out for him. “Use my mouth like a fleshlight. Whatever you want to do. Please.”

He inhales sharply, stunned at your explicitness. He pushes his hair back, out of his face, taking the time to process… everything. His gaze is tender, though, as he gently cups your cheek. “Okay. Yeah. I can do that. But if you don’t want it anymore, you– You have to let me know, okay?”

You smile up at him, pleased that he’s finally letting some of his inhibitions go, even if he still seems hesitant. You pat the side of his thigh thrice. “I’ll do that if it’s too much.”

“I love you.” Spencer says softly.

“I love you too, Spence.” You hum. “Now hurry up and fuck my face.”

“Jesus, you’re so crude,” Spencer laughs. He leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead. Pulling back, he guides his cock to your mouth, the head of his cock pressing against the plush of your lips. His mouth is open when he looks at you like this. He whispers, “Fuck.”

You open your mouth to take him in, like you were before, sinking down inch by inch, until he’s comfortably settled in the back of your throat. Spencer doesn’t move to fuck your face yet, so you make the first move. You bob your head up and down on his length, making sure your mouth is wet and slick as you suck him off. He lets out a moan, hand fisted in your hair.

And here’s where it starts: You slow on his cock, and Spencer, finally taking what he wants, pushes your head down onto his cock for more. You gag slightly. Spencer pulls your head back up, pushes you back down. While you appreciate how much he cares about you, him putting his pleasure first in using you like this makes your toes curl.

Spencer’s cock in the back of your throat is not uncomfortable, not yet, but Spencer steels himself to fuck your mouth and you find your veins thrumming with adrenaline. Spencer’s first thrust is exploratory, cautious. He’s nervous, or it at least feels like it when he fucks into your mouth. You would tell him off, but your mouth is kind of occupied right now. Instead, you glance up at him, and hope that your gaze tells him to just fuck me.

One arm against the backrest of the couch, Spencer thrusts into your mouth again. He gasps. Chasing his own pleasure, his eyes flutter shut as he fucks your mouth. His thrusts are shallow, desperate, hurried, but his mouth falls open in stuttered, eager moans. He’s so gorgeous.

You’ve never heard anything so perfect, the way Spencer moans, the way he cries out your name. You press your legs together to stave off the arousal building between them. You feel like a mess, Spencer’s hand making a mess of your hair, Spencer’s cock making a mess of your mouth. You think spit is probably all over your chin right now, but he’d probably think you still look great anyway.

Spencer gasps, out of breath as he whimpers, “I’m– I’m close, I can’t–”

He fucks into your mouth once, twice more, before slumping back down onto the couch. There’s a slick, wet ‘pop’ as you pull off of Spencer, pouting slightly. “You know I’m happy to swallow, Spence.”

Spencer laughs, tired, and explains, “I know you do, dear. I just don’t think I have it in me to come more than once. And I really want to come inside of you.”

His words make you blush. Spencer doesn’t get too explicit too often, so hearing him say dirty things always turns you on. You reach up to wipe yourself clean, but Spencer’s already ahead of you with a tissue pressed to your face, gentle as he wipes your mouth and chin.

After cleaning you up, he helps you up off your knees and onto the couch. You’re both still clothed, sure, but Spencer’s boxers and pants have been pushed down to reveal his cock; you must be even more of a mess, hair rustled and face messy, and the desperation that makes itself clear at the sight of the both of you makes you giggle.

Spencer smiles at you. “What are you laughing about?”

“We must look insane right now,” you laugh. “We’re not even naked yet and we’re like this.”

“Well, I think you look beautiful,” Spencer says earnestly in a quiet voice, his hand tucking your hair behind your ear. Spencer’s touch is gentle, it always is, and especially in stark contrast to the way he’d fucked your face, just like you told him to. “My lovely girl.”

“Spence,” you purr, nuzzling into his hand as he cradles your face. “Love you.”

“I love you too.” Spencer’s answer is immediate, certain, and it makes you acutely aware of how turned on you are.

“I love you so much, and I really need you to fuck me right now.” You look up at him, watch as his face warms from serious to amused. You shift away from him slightly on the couch, but use the extra space to spread your legs. “Use this pussy, baby.”

Now, he presses his finger to his temple, shaking his head playfully. “Your mouth is filthy. You’re filthy.”

You grin. “Aww, Spence, at least tell me you like it!”

He leans forward to kiss you, hard and eager and desperate. You moan into the kiss, as his hand is pressed into the small of your back. You run your hand through his hair, where it’s starting to curl past the nape of his neck. When he pulls away, he says, looking deep into your eyes: “I like you. And your filthy mouth. Now let me fuck you.”

You giggle, wildly turned on as his long, deft fingers push your shorts and panties off. He kisses along your neck as he does so, then lays you back on the couch, and his thumb rubs circles into your inner thigh softly as he regards you, admires you. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

“You are too,” you say, awed, as Spencer takes off his nerdy little button-up. His body is perfect – not skin-and-bones skinny, but there’s a healthy litheness to him that you appreciate, especially when you’re grabbing at him while he fucks you. “Want you right now.”

“I know,” Spencer hums soothingly, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “Come on, love.”

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you watch, slack-jawed, as he wraps a hand around himself. His eyes flutter shut as he strokes himself, but he quickly snaps himself back to reality: guiding his cock in between your legs. He presses the tip to your clit, messy and glistening with your slick, and rubs against you in circles. You moan, feeling a little pathetic as you rut your hips forward to find any more pleasure like this.

Now, he presses the head of his cock to your hole, teasing, pushing it in slightly before it slips back out and spreads more of your slick across the rest of your cunt. You whine, pouting up at Spencer. He coos at you, “Okay, okay.”

Finally, he’s settled against your hole, the blunt head of his cock pressing into you excruciatingly slowly. It’s exhilarating, feeling him feed his cock into your hole, feeling him stretch you open, feeling like you were made for each other. He holds your leg up so he can press up closer to you, feeling so full as he puts his cock inside of you.

“Spencer,” you moan when he stops moving. “Fuck me. Just like earlier.”

”Okay, love.” Spencer nods, trails his hand down your waist and hips, down your thighs. “My gorgeous girl.”

Spencer thrusts into you, the first one sending electric pleasure through your body. He always loves to do it like this, make love to you slowly, intensely rocking into you until you feel all his love. You always do, but you don’t want that tonight. He knows that’s not what you want tonight.

When Spencer starts fucking you, his hips have gained a steady rhythm, your skin slapping together obscenely. It’s so wet between you two, where he’s pressed inside you. He fucks you hard and fast, eyebrows furrowed as he chases his own high. He’s so fucking cute, even while naked and trying his best to make you feel just as good as he does. He’s panting and groaning, your own moans mixing in with his. He knows you want him like this, hard and fast and messy.

You can’t form a coherent sentence, only able to babble and cry out for Spencer, for more, and you cling onto his arms as he pounds into you. You’ve never felt Spencer like this before. Sure, he’s always eager to please, doing whatever makes you feel good, but him going so hard, just like this, just the way you want makes you feel so needy, the both of you feeding off of each other’s desperation. All you can focus on is Spencer’s skin touching yours, the in-out slide of his cock, the slapping of skin on skin, the wet, slick noises of his cock fucking in and out of you.

“Cumming, Spence, I’m cumming,” You cry out needily, desperately, and you moan when he presses his thumb to your clit. He flicks at your clit in rough, hurried little circles. The pressure is cruel but just what you need for your release, and your whole body shakes as you orgasm. The high is so good, a different type of pleasure coursing through your veins.

You clench around Spencer, your cunt like a vice grip on him. Moaning loudly, his hips are stuttering as he comes inside of you too. He fucks out whatever momentum’s left in him, but pulls out quickly and gently, because he knows how fast you get overstimulated afterward.

He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth, then presses his lips to yours. The kiss is soft, sweet, tame, unlike the depravity you were engaged in before, and the juxtaposition makes your head spin. Spencer, who is usually such a sweet, soft guy, being able to fuck you so hard and fast until the couch was creaking underneath you. You suppose that’s what he’s capable of when you ask. You like it. You wonder what else you can ask him to do. You think he’d do it in a heartbeat, knowing him.

“That was amazing,” you giggle breathlessly. “Spence, you’re a madman.”

”For you, my dear,” Spencer smiles. “Anything for you.”

You snuggle into his side, resting your head on his chest as you lay on the couch. You’re both sticky and gross, but you’re sure Spencer will be more than happy to clean up later. Right now, you’re just pleased to be cuddling your boyfriend.

”So, do you feel less stressed out about work now?” You ask, after a moment of comfortable silence.

”Well, I certainly wasn’t thinking about work,” Spencer laughs. “You know, some sociologists believe stress can be caused by positive events too? I think you cause me stress, but it’s good stress.”

”Watch your mouth, genius,” you snark playfully. “You’re lucky you’re cute enough that I’d take being called a stressor a compliment.”

“I love you,” Spencer sing-songs.

You roll your eyes, but can’t help the stupid grin that forms on your face. “Yeah, yeah.”

#spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencerreidenjoyer writes #spencer reid #spencer reid x you

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bunnyreaper · 1 year ago

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𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘

𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰

𝖕𝖙 5 — 𝖕𝖙 4 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊

wc - 7.6k

warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom/sub dynamic, petplay (as always), thigh riding, pussy eating, johnny gives reader a piggyback ride.

notes - it's here! and my life and health is worse for it, but it's here! please don't expect the next part any time soon, but thank you to those patiently waiting ♥ also on ao3! ♥

"Told you, pet, this mouth is mine now."

Johnny's mouth continues its loving assault on yours, overwhelming you with his kisses. It's filled with the same passion as the first time, but now Johnny's heat seeps straight from his bones and into you.

His hands fall to your wrists, his touch warm and caressing and pinning you ever so slightly in place—just enough to keep you still, not enough to really restrict you.

It's Johnny who pulls away from you, an exhaled fuck falling from his lips—your eyes flutter open to meet his, the baby blues flooded with lust.

His gaze flickers to your lips before he whispers. "I dinnae want to stop kissing ye."

He steals your breath with both the words and the feeling of his lips when they return to yours, each slide against you as if he's stealing them, afraid he won't get another for too long. Though with Johnny, you get the feeling any second your lips aren't connected to his are ones he wishes for nothing else.

"Yeah, fuck..." You sigh as Johnny pulls away, his grip loosening as his forehead settles against yours.

Neither of you can fight the smiles on your faces, as you both bask in each other's joy, and the rush of endorphins and arousal running through you.

Johnny always makes you feel electric.

He laughs breathlessly, eyes sparkling with mirth as you can see him try to restrain himself. "'Spose I should let ye get settled first before I ravage ye."

"I have no complaints if you don't." You giggle in return, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before willing yourself to pull away too. "But yeah, probably a good idea."

If both of you had less self-control, you had no doubts the tension could have pushed you into rutting in the entryway like rabid dogs, only managing to bare yourselves just enough to have Johnny sink inside you. From the look in his eyes and the feeling of his hardness pressed against you, he wants to take you here and now—but he's nothing if not a gentleman.

You have no doubt that your own glassy eyes and soaked panties betray your need just the same, and there's a desperate, animalistic part of your brain that wants to drag him inside by the belt so that you can fall to your knees before him.

Johnny straightens himself up, taking ahold of your hand and preparing to head into the flat proper. "Want the tour of the place?"

You nod eagerly. "Of course."

You pull your hand free for just a moment to abandon your shoes by the door-—leaving them amongst the existing pile of boots, which Johnny only adds to with his own.

With your hands reconnected and fingers intertwined, he guides you into the warmth of the flat.

"I mean, the place is tiny, so it won't take long." He jokes, as he pulls you in further and throws his keys on the countertop. "Tada, living room and kitchen all in one."

You take in the open space around you—the room flooded with moonlight and a faint glow from under the kitchen cupboards, as well as a lamp that's lit in the corner. The ceilings are high, and the floors are wooden—the kitchen and living room combined to create a large, albeit cosy room.

"Nice and spacious! I like that it's open plan." You coo, as Johnny paces forward, and you allow him to guide you. Your eyes rove over everything, from the well-worn couch to the framed photos of him and his squad, or the pictures of wild-eyed kids that can only be Johnny's nieces and nephews.

"Aye. Can have ye curled up on the couch while am cooking, terribly, mind ye." Johnny nudges you playfully with his hip, drawing your attention back to the radiant smile on his face.

You follow him down a small corridor with doors on both sides. The door to the left opens into a bathroom with a large, walk-in, waterfall shower, illuminated with soft lighting when Johnny flicks the switch.

"Bathroom, with no bath." He explains, before his expression flickers to something briefly resembling a kicked puppy. "Bit sad about tha'."

"Are you a bath man?" You ask, your mind visualising the muscular man indulging in rich aromas and piles of bubbles—it serves as quite the entertaining mental image. And then your mind flickers to him in the shower, water cascading down his toned body, knots in his shoulders just begging for relaxation...

"Absolutely. And if yer not into baths, I think I know just the way to convert ye." His hand squeezes yours playfully as he throws you a wink, and you're left wondering if he could somehow sense that your thoughts have turned dirty.

"I like the sound of that."

Finally, you cross the hallway into the bedroom—a room filled with a mixture of earth tones and navy blues, the place is clean and tidy, beside the pile of clothes and various other things piled onto the chair in the corner.

"And where we'll be staying, unless you'd prefer I sleep on the couch."

You don't miss the sheepish look on his face, the look that tells you that sleeping apart from you is the last thing he'd rather do tonight—but you know that he'd do it in a heartbeat if you asked.

Stepping closer into his space, you lace your other hand in his and sway them back and forth, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "I will be falling asleep on your chest. That's non-negotiable, Johnny."

"I'm glad tae hear." He pushes himself forward to press a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment after. "Can be ma little blanket for the night."

"... But aye, that's about it." He gestures to the room with one of your intertwined hands.

"It's cosy here, I like it." You comment with a smile, taking in the welcoming atmosphere of the room—the hints that the place is lived in.

Johnny comments as he moves closer to your ear—his breath warm as it flutters over your skin. "Hopefully, the first visit of many."

"I hope so too. I'll be leaving my toothbrush here before you know it."

You pull yourself from Johnny's hold, falling back onto the mattress and allowing your dress to ride up your legs as you prop yourself up on your elbows and stare at Johnny temptingly.

Your eyes trail over his body, savouring every delicious inch that is John MacTavish. His eyes chart a similar path, following up your exposed thighs.

"Anyway, I think I'm all settled in now." You purr, trying to coax him back into kissing you like he was earlier.

"Steamin' jesus." He all but growls as he comes closer, crawling over you and leaning down near to your lips as his arms cage you in. "Someone's a needy pup."

With his face hovering inches from yours, you relish the opportunity to drink him all in. His baby blues sparkle with lust and fondness as they peer down at you, slightly hidden behind hooded lids. His eyelashes flutter so prettily, bouncing off his sweet, stubbled cheeks.

Your eyes fall to his soft lips, the scar underlining them that you want to trace your thumb and tongue across—learn the story of.

"Kiss me again, Johnny, please." You whisper softly, as one of his hands begins to stroke the top of your head.

"Askin' so nicely, how can I say no?" He smirks one last time before closing the gap, both of your eyes fluttering shut as your lips finally reconnect.

There's never a moment when Johnny's lips don't feel heavenly—he kisses you like a man starved and allows his hips to falter and press against your core. His clothed erection rubs against your centre, the denim pushing across your thin panties and sending your brain spinning.

It's instinct when you buck your hips up into his, chasing more contact from his throbbing length. The more time you spend around Johnny, the more intoxicated you become on his presence—your hesitations melt away, replaced by an overwhelming need that's only sated when Johnny is pressed against you.

The moan that leaves your throat is entirely accidental, but causes Johnny to buck against you and groan right back at you—after the moment of slipped control, he stills.

"Bonnie..." Johnny pulls away, a soft, hesitant look in his eyes as he tries his hardest to hold back. "I meant what I said about not expecting anything."

For a moment, you feel awful, like a temptress pushing him to the limits of his self-restraint—but your own desires swirl inside you dangerously, with every moment with Johnny only adding fuel to the fire.

The fact Johnny can want you so passionately and still remain firmly in charge of the both of you only reinforces the disgustingly puppylike crush you have on him.

"I know. I'm just enjoying kissing you properly." You sigh before taking a deep breath to release some of your pent-up arousal.

"Aye, me too." He continues to stroke at the top of your head as his thumb brushes across your warm cheek, making you shiver. "Hard to keep ma hands to myself."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Your hands rake down his chest, slowing once you feel the hardness of his abs beneath the cotton.

Johnny's hand falls to clutch your wrists, stilling your exploration of his body. The look in his eyes is all cheek and charm. "I should get you fed."

"Boo."

The look turns ever so slightly warning. "Pup, Johnny knows best, aye?"

"To the kitchen!" You announce cheerfully, breaking through the tension of the moment and redirecting the both of you before you end up wrapping your legs around Johnny and refusing to let go until he's spilled himself inside you.

With a breathy laugh, Johnny stands from the bed, turning around and offering his back for you to climb upon. When he finally has you safely stowed on him, his fingers gripping at your thighs as your arms wrap around his neck, he carries you to the kitchen.

Johnny doesn't let you back down to the floor immediately, instead heading to the fridge with you still clinging to him like a koala.

"Probably should've asked ye what toppings you wanted, but I just grabbed a bit of everything." He explains as he opens the door and reveals a shelf bursting with cheeses, vegetables, and meats.

You quickly scan the shelf for any nasty surprises like the anchovies or olives Johnny had mentioned on the way over, and find yourself relieved that everything on offer is delicious—with some of your favourite pizza toppings even there. "So much choice, and nothing disgusting, I'm surprised, Johnny."

"Hey now, I do have taste... sometimes." The pout in his voice is evident as he shuffles you further up his back before removing the hold of one of his hands to start removing the dough, sauce, and toppings so he can set them atop the counter.

Your eyes fall to the rest of the shelves, with the vast majority of them being stacked with the same plastic poultry liners. "Johnny, your fridge is 90% plain chicken breast, I'm not sure that I trust that."

"Well, actually, some of that is turkey." He smirks, until you lean forward into his sight-line with a grumpy look on your face. "Dinnae go glaring at me, bonnie girl."

"Clearly I need to be fed so I have less of an attitude." You huff, playfully teasing him about his earlier interruption to your fun.

Johnny finally lowers you to the ground, setting you beside him before he grabs the final few ingredients. "I'm working on it!"

With everything ready and set out, you start to plan out the deliciousness that will be your creation. Everything Johnny picked out is fresh and delicious, and almost calling out to you to be a part of your meal. You rush to wash your hands so you can get started.

"I feel like I'm gonna pick too many toppings and my pizza will just be a mess." You explain as you start to open a few packets while Johnny moves to the sink. "What are you having?"

"Lil bit of everything, why no'?" He shrugs, the smile on his face wide and infectious.

"I'm so excited!" You giggle, already thoroughly enjoying your little pizza party with Johnny. As you watch Johnny dry his hands and then begin to work the dough, a mischievous thought pops into your head. "It's a shame we didn't make the dough from scratch, though."

As soon as Johnny looks at you, he knows exactly where your thoughts have headed, and his face splits with an amused grin. "So ye could throw flour at me?"

"Flour fight, exactly." You nod.

Johnny sets down the dough, moving into your space and grabbing you by the hips to spin you to face him. He looms over you— grin now devilish, eyes sharp and tone teasing. "I'd win, hen, dinnae think otherwise."

You bite your lip, staring up at Johnny and shivering under his touch. "Hmm, you'd be covered in flour and looking so good, so I think I'd really be the winner."

"Next time, then." He purrs as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. He pulls away after a few moments, yet lingers in your space and sends heat rushing through your veins.

"I suppose I could still smear sauce all over you." You tease, your arousal making you even more daring and flirtatious.

"Just askin' fer trouble with tha'." He growls, pulling you flush against his body as he pulls his lip between his teeth.

"Oh no... how terrible."

One hand moves in a flash, slapping lightly and groping at your ass as Johnny rubs himself against you. "Ye won't be saying that when yer arse is red raw." He groans in your ear.

"You wouldn't be spanking me when I'm too busy licking the sauce off your face." You giggle, squirming under his touch. Brattiness isn't your usual go-to around Johnny, but sometimes he just inspires it.

"Dirty fuckin' pup." He growls, his voice almost feral and animalistic in the way it rips from his throat.

He holds your gaze, commanding you with just a look as he removes his hands and leans to the counter. He returns with the jar, popping open the lid with ease before offering it to you.

"Go awn then." He commands, his expression serious as he urges the jar closer to you.

You glance between him and the jar, uncertain of what he's asking for a moment before the realisation hits—he's making you cover him in the sauce.

The moment stretches on in the heavy silence, as Johnny stares you down with an expectant look, waiting for you to comply. You timidly dip your finger into the sauce, hand trembling as you move to swipe it across Johnny's cheek. You assume he's going to messily return the favour, but he just continues to hold your gaze.

"Now lick it." He whispers, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You can't help but comply, pushing yourself up close to his face and darting out your tongue just enough to clean his stubbled cheek.

It's then he grips you again, stilling you in place as you're draped across his body. "Good fucking girl." He purrs, and then returns the favour—gripping your cheek with one hand and smearing your face with sauce with the other.

Then he licks you, long tongue trailing slowly up your cheek and leaving you wet and squirming.

"Johnny, ew!" You giggle wildly, almost feeling tickled by his tongue against your skin.

"Ew? Really, lass? Won't be saying tha' later when it's my tongue in yer cunt." He makes sure his lips brush against the shell of your ear as he continues to tease you with his words. "Won't be sayin' tha' later when I have ye slobbering all over my cock."

He punctuates the last sentence by pulling you tight against him once more, making you feel the weight of his throbbing cock against you. You find your self-control rapidly slipping once more, especially when his lips dip to press kisses to the bare expense of your neck.

"Mercy, please." You squeal, attempting to wiggle free from his hold. "Otherwise, we might have to abandon the pizzas."

Luckily, Johnny is feeling kind as he pulls away and gives you space—yet the glint in his eye remains.

"Mercy, for now."

You and Johnny try your best to focus on making the pizzas without further incident—listening to early 2000s pop punk and exchanging little bits and pieces of conversation. He informs you that his Captain's house is more in the countryside and has a proper brick pizza oven in the garden that gets used precisely once a year when he throws a birthday party for Gaz.

It makes you chuckle how Johnny seems to enthuse about how much better the pizzas are when they aren't made in his "shitty little electric oven". It also makes your heart swell when Johnny mentions how Gaz's birthday is just around the corner, and that you have to come with him to the party.

When Johnny pulls your pizzas from the oven, you're surprised to see they both managed to cook well despite the pile of toppings and cheese.

The two of you eat your gooey pizzas as you curl up on the couch and watch an episode of Midsomer Murders. Admittedly, you'd been sceptical at first, and a little confused as to why a man in his late 20s was so into a show you watched growing up with your aunt. Then you heard his enthusiasm for solving the cases, and couldn't bring yourself to care about the slightly amateurish acting or the way the theme tune reminded you of the smell of her house.

When you realise halfway through that you're pretty sure Johnny's guesswork about the case is wrong, you feel your puppy love grow at least ten sizes, and say nothing as you watch the misguided enthusiasm and smugness sparkle in his eyes.

After a second episode finishes, you ready yourself to head back to the kitchen with the plates but find yourself stilled as Johnny grabs your wrist.

"Do you not want help with the dishes?" You ask, head tilted slightly in confusion.

"Maybe later." Johnny pulls you back down onto the couch before fixing you with a look that makes your cheeks flush. His hand finds its way to your face, cupping your burning skin as his thumb traces over your lips with intent.

"Oh, later, I see." You can't help but smile, and Johnny's thumb chases the newfound curve of your lips.

A lustful fire ignites in the pit of your stomach as you watch Johnny's eyes fixate on your lips, and you notice his pupils are blooming with arousal.

It's instinctual and automatic, the way you feel your body call out to connect with Johnny's once more, and you give in to the magnetic pull as you climb into his lap and settle atop him. Your hands curl around the thick column of the back of his neck, steadying yourself as you squirm around to get comfortable.

Johnny's large hands cling to your hips—a warning grip stilling you as his cock stirs to life underneath your core and pushes harsh denim against the soft cotton of your panties.

"Bonnie." The word is growled, yet wrapped in playfulness, as his eyes flare with warning and his fingers continue to dig into the plush of your hips.

"Yes?" You coo innocently.

"Careful now."

"I just want to kiss you." You whine, while resisting the urge to grind down on Johnny's length. Instead, your lips fall to kiss his stubbled jaw, and the protruding veins on the side of his neck. "Can't get enough of you."

Your own words break the dam of your self-restraint, as you give in to your urges and chase the bolts of pleasure that course through you, nudging your clit back and forth against the cock you crave so badly.

"Neither can I." He whispers brusquely, the words sounding throatier as you continue to kiss him and writhe against him. His hands guide your hips along your path, each thrust earning you a growl from deep within his chest. "Ye drive me mad, steamin' fuckin' jesus."

Your hips continue to writhe on instinct, addicted to the feeling of rocking on Johnny's bulge and the way the sensation ebbs at consciousness and makes your brain cottony around the edges. You nuzzle into Johnny's neck, seeking comfort and closeness as you continue to slip deeper and deeper.

"Johnny, I'm going crazy, I need you." Your words are whined against his skin, desperate pleas appealing to his baser instincts, practically begging him to just give in and take you already. The impulsive voice in the back of your head chants his name over and over again, as it always does.

This time it's stronger, overwhelmingly so, as you're wrapped in his arms and able to melt into his touch.

"Ya have me, pet." He whispers—holding you close, nuzzling you back, and pressing the gentlest of kisses to the top of your head. "'m all yours."

Johnny continues working his hips up into your core, meeting you thrust for thrust and grind for grind. The sensation of your bodies meeting draws groans from his throat, each erratic connection making you both tremble.

Your eyes meet, an intense connection as Johnny's eyes search yours—him seeming to read every little flicker of emotion within them. Whatever he sees there spurs him into action, as he repositions his grip and redirects you—widening his legs before he pushes you down against his thick, denim-clad thigh.

"Tha's better." He sighs, immediately moving your hips again for you, rubbing your pussy across his muscle and giving you much-needed contact.

You find your rhythm quickly, working with Johnny to build delicious friction—the heightened sensations and connection have you overly sensitive, your blood fizzing all over your body just at being able to grind against Johnny. You know he's going to ruin you when things really start to escalate. You also know you're not going to last long at all.

"Humping my thigh like a good pup." Johnny groans as he buries himself into the crook of your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your skin—you tilt your head to accommodate him getting access to wherever his mouth pleases.

"Gonna leave a wet spot." You feel the way your wet panties are clinging to your folds and know some of your arousal is leaking through to the denim beneath.

Johnny growls, his thigh pushing up to meet you more firmly, as if begging to be soiled further. "Go awn, soak ma jeans."

"Johnny..."

"Sound so pretty whinin' fer me, whimperin'." He purrs straight into your ear, making your back arch as your skin tingles all over. "Gonna bark for me?"

You quickly shake your head before hiding in Johnny's chest, cheeks ablaze. "'m shy." You whisper, hoping said reservedness won't disappoint him.

One of Johnny's hands makes its way up your body, stopping to stroke the top of your head soothingly. "It's okay, pup, it'll come." He reassures you, not let down in the slightest. "Jus' keep grinding."

Your hips move with renewed fervour, chasing the rapidly building high that twists and coils in your stomach. Pleasure radiates out from your core, flowing through your veins and clouding your brain—refocusing yourself entirely on being good for Johnny.

"Feels good?" Johnny asks in response to your escalating whines and moans. "Use yer words for me."

Words are hard to form when your throat is so tightened and your mind so blissed out, but you have to obey. Each thrust pushes you closer and closer to the edge, closer to your reward. The tension between you and Johnny has been building for so long, with your need rapidly spiralling from the moment the two of you first started talking.

You need the release, need to cum under Johnny's touch and command—finally let him into your mind where his commands will make their home. As your thighs tremble around Johnny's, you force yourself to summon the strength to lift your head, to use your words just like Johnny had asked.

"Feels good, so close." You admit, voice not above a whisper as you get hypnotised by the sparkling blue eyes that are hidden by hooded lids.

Johnny is looking at you like he's going to devour you, and all you've done so far is rub your slick cunt all over his thigh. You shiver with the thought of just how much more intensity can build between you—you wonder how you're going to survive it.

"Needy pup, want ye tae cum fer me. Jus' fer me." One of Johnny's hands now cups your chin, forcing you to keep your eyes locked onto his as you continue to writhe wildly against him.

His words push you so much closer, your brain waiting for his word as you try your hardest to not cum even a second before he tells you too.

"Can ye do that, pet?"

You nod mindlessly as your body goes into overdrive, the pressure making your body coil tighter as your brain finally fizzles out of any coherent thought. All you can do is keep your eyes fixed on Johnny, as you replay his words over and over in your head.

Pet. Pup. Hump. Whine.

Operating entirely on instinct, your mouth falls open, tongue lolling out as you pant and whine—right on the edge, waiting. As if in your thoughts, Johnny senses that you're right at the edge, as his thigh tenses to be the perfect surface for you to rub against, and his hand forces your cunt down even more snugly before.

"Pretty pup, tha's it." He coos, voice dripping with sweet, gentle authority. "Cum fer me."

With his command finally whispered, you buck one more and fly over the edge, straight into the ecstasy of a blinding orgasm—one that's weeks in the making.

Johnny continues to coax you through it, whispered praise and encouragement accompanying every little aftershock until you practically collapse against his chest.

"Oh my god, that was..." You struggle to breathe, still struggle to think as you sink into Johnny's embrace. "I needed that, thank you."

Soft touches adorn every inch of your body, Johnny petting you sweetly and embracing the sensitivity of your skin in the afterglow. "My pleasure. Ye were such a good girl fer me."

"Sorry about your jeans. And you not—"

Johnny doesn't let you finish your unnecessary apologies. "Dinnae be."

He pulls you even closer, arms wrapping around your waist and back and holding you in a tight, reassuring embrace as the both of you come back down to normalcy. You can practically feel the smile on Johnny's lips with every kiss against your forehead, and his unbridled joy is still radiating off of him when you finally lean up to reconnect your lips with his.

After a few sweet pecks, you find yourself burrowing back into his chest as you try to suppress a yawn.

"Tired, bonnie?" Johnny asks, voice quiet.

You respond simply with a gentle nod.

"Let's get you to bed, then." He chuckles, tapping the backs of your thighs to encourage you to stand.

You can't help but whine just a little, entirely resistant to moving even if Johnny's bed is only a short walk away. "It's too early to sleep." You try to reason, even if you have no clue of the time.

Johnny presses another kiss to your forehead—his smirk cheeky and eyes bright. "Who said we'd be sleeping?"

With assistance from Johnny, you sleepily stumble to his bedroom and immediately plop yourself down on the edge of the mattress while Johnny fetches your forgotten bags from the entryway.

Your orgasm has left you a little boneless and ignited an even stronger craving for connection with Johnny. He parts from you for even a moment, and your body calls out to be cuddled up with him again.

Luckily, he returns quickly, setting the bag down beside you so you can sleepily rifle through the bag for your pyjamas.

When you finally locate the silky set, you urge yourself off the bed and head for the bathroom. Johnny stops you by the wrists before you can reach the door.

"Where are ye going?" He asks, an adorable look of confusion on his face.

"To get changed." You explain, trying to stop your voice from trembling with nerves. Despite just cumming on this man's thigh, there's something startling about the vulnerability of changing before him that makes your walls shoot up and your body stiffen.

Johnny's thumb runs over your wrist, as his expression softens, and he releases his hold.

"'s okay." He nods, turning to grab his own pyjama bottoms and beating you out of the door to the bathroom, leaving you in the comfort of his room. "Shout me when yer done, aye?"

The door clicks shut behind Johnny, as your heart fills with warmth at his easy and sweet accommodation of you.

You slip off your dress first, folding it semi-neatly and slipping into the bag before you opt to slip off your panties too—they're still soaked through from your earlier activities and were clinging to your folds almost uncomfortably. You quickly shimmy on the matching silk set—cute shorts with a cami top, as you try to remember the confidence you felt when trying the set on.

You call out to Johnny, beckoning him back into the room and hoping his reaction to your outfit is everything you could hope for.

When Johnny slips round the door, his eyes almost jump out of his head—though you're sure yours are doing the same. "Fuckin' christ, bonnie."

Your eyes rake down Johnny's body just as he does you—his chest is bare, and his plaid pyjama bottoms are slung low on his hips. You can't tear your eyes away, as they dart around taking in every little feature—the broad muscles, slight dusting of hair, or constellation of scars and freckles all down his torso. It's hard to decide which part of him is the most delicious, the most deserving of your eyes' attention.

"Christ yourself." You whisper, completely in awe.

Johnny steps forward, taking your hands in his and pulling you into his warmth. His smile is adoring, his eyes showing nothing but reverence as he takes in every detail of you—you wonder if he's recognised just what you've done.

"You look so good, I wanna eat you." His words are purred into your neck as he presses kisses along your skin, and his hands slip all over your silky skin and barely-there clothes. His hands find their way to the hem of your top, pausing slightly as if asking for consent.

"Johnny..." You whine as you turn your head nervously, shielding your embarrassed expression from view and desperately hoping you don't have to explain yourself further.

He cups your jaw tenderly, without any intention of turning you to face him. His voice is just as considerate. "Nervous?"

"I know it's silly, but..." You trail off, unable to finish your sentence.

I'm scared you won't like what you see.

I'm scared you'll leave once you get what you want.

I'm scared I won't compare to what you imagined, to what you deserve.

Johnny can sense it all, or at least some of it—as his eyes briefly flare with intense worry. He pulls away before you can ask, flicking the light switch and plunging you both into inky darkness—the room only illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights.

"How's this, hen?" He asks, finding his way back to you.

Somehow, the barely-there lighting of the room feels like a safety blanket—a joyous hiding-in-the-pillow fort feeling, instead of being subjected to a spotlight that seems to amplify all your insecurities.

"Better." Your smile is genuine as you reposition atop the bed, pulling Johnny with you gently as you seek comfort. The two of you scramble up the bed, laying over the covers and facing each other—just inside each other's embrace.

Johnny's handsome features are visible enough in the dim, with his easy smile still lighting up the room. "Will just have to feel ma way around... if tha's okay."

"Touch but don't look, instead of the other way around." You laugh, the act releasing some of your pent-up worry. Your hand chases Johnny's, moving it from the bed to your body and encouraging him to touch you. "Sounds good to me."

"That's ma girl. Ye feel fucking divine." He sighs his words into your skin, leaning forward for a kiss as his hand dips under the fabric of your top and rests on the curve of your waist. His thumb still appreciatively strokes across the satin of your pyjamas.

"I bought these just for you." You admit, voice a soft whisper.

"Did ye pick the colour of my eyes on purpose, pet?"

So he had noticed, you think. "Yeah..."

Johnny's easy expression falters for a moment, his usual confidence wavering in the face of such a heartfelt act.

"Fuckin' christ." His hand squeezes at your side as he lets out a shaky sigh. "And as if I wasn't hard enough."

"Oh?" Your hand reaches out to rest on Johnny's chest, fingers raking down slightly on your path of exploration, headed straight for the waistband of his bottoms where your ignited curiosity is focused.

Your fingers itch to feel his cock again, remembering how deliciously hard and huge he had felt under your touch in the café. This time, you could feel him without reservation, and experience exactly the effect you have on him without any barriers of material or propriety.

His eyebrow arches at the action, and his eyes sparkle interest. "Bonnie, where's tha' hand going?"

"I wanna feel it, please." You whisper, accompanying your words with a teasing touch as you slip your thumb under the waistband and tug at the elastic.

Another tremulous exhale passes his lips before he pulls the lower one between his teeth. "When ye beg like tha’, how can I say no?"

Your hand dives below his waistband as you eagerly wrap your hand around the satiny smooth skin of his cock—feeling the bulging veins and the way the tip leaks with sticky pre.

“Fuck.” You continue to explore his length, stroking slowly and reverently as you watch his face for his reactions—relishing in each quiver of his brows or flutter of his lashes. “Honestly, I don't know how I got this far without begging you to show it to me.”

He chuckles as his hips buck slightly to meet your touch, frenetic energy building inside of him. “Guess for now you’ll just have to keep feelin’. Make up fer lost time.”

“Johnny…”

“Yes, puppy?”

You stroke down to the base, gripping it firmly for a moment as you speak. "There's no way you're fitting that inside me—"

Johnny's eyes flare with ravenous need, his smile turning delightfully sinful before he devours your protests with a messy kiss—a hand gripping at your chin.

"Shhh, I know that pretty cunny can take me." He purrs his words into your mouth, forcing you to practically swallow them and all of their intensity. "When the time comes, we'll go slow. I'll take care of ye, train my puppy to take me."

Your body squirms involuntarily, arousal and surrender washing over you in waves as Johnny's authoritative tone melts you back into a submissive headspace.

"Your mouth is evil, Johnny." You whine and shiver. "You know what you do to me, right?"

"I have an idea." He smirks, as the hand gripping your down trails down your neck and over your body before stopping at your waistband for permission. "Wouldnae mind more of one, though, if tha's okay."

"Please."

It's impossible to hold back your gasp as Johnny's thick fingers finally slide in between your soaked folds and make contact with your sensitive clit.

He swipes through your wetness repeatedly, dipping down to tease at your entrance before pulling more slick over your clit and swirling it easily with his fingers. You curl into him slightly, forehead falling against his as your legs fall apart, and you surrender to his touch.

Each stroke feels electric, and your hips rise and fall to chase every little sensation you get from the way he explores you. You find your eyes drifting shut from the pleasure, and the need to shield yourself from the intensity of his hungry stare.

"Fuck, drippin' fer me." His voice is lower, coming from deeper in his chest, as you feel his dick throb. He's stopped rutting into your hand, instead focused entirely on you.

"... When I got home after our date, I was soaked right through." You admit, voice shaky and unsteady and wracked with pleasure. The glow radiates outwards from your core, coiling in your stomach. Despite your earlier release, your need is still overwhelming—Johnny's touch feeling better than anything you've felt in so long.

"Always makin' a mess. Making a mess on ma fingers right now."

"I can't help it." You whimper helplessly, and even more so when Johnny's fingers withdraw from your folds and leave your cunt aching for him.

Your eyes fly open in time to watch him take the soaked digits in his mouth, cleaning your mess off of them with his tongue as he gives you an intense, unwavering look that makes your cheeks blaze.

"Taste heavenly, bonnie. Think I need more of a taste, though." He grins, his eyes raging with a hunger that makes your stomach flip.

"Fuck," You sigh, wanting his mouth on you and yet feeling a sense of guilt for even thinking about letting him. "I... I should get you off first."

You return to stroking his length, your movements having stilled as he had focused on you, but his hand moves to grip your wrist—stilling it in its tracks.

"Lass, if you give me the word, there's nothin' coming between me and eating tha' kitty of yours. Not even my own cock."

The certainty in his tone and his look almost have you convinced, but that niggle of insecurity and worry still lingers in the back of your mind, urging you to deny yourself of the pleasures Johnny can give you.

"I don't usually..." You trail off, struggling to finish your sentence. Part of you wants to say you don't let guys go down on you, but it's not like the last one even cared to offer.

You haven't even told Johnny any details, yet he seems enthusiastic enough to compensate for any of the experiences you've had in the past.

His expression cycles through a myriad of emotions—confusion, sadness, and anger, before he settles on a soft yet determined look.

"Do you want me to go down on ye?"

"Yes." Your answer slips out far too quickly, but the thought of his mouth on your cunt makes your head spin.

His hand returns to cup your cheek, stroking reassuringly as his eyes plead with you. "Then please, bonnie."

You swallow, pushing away the voices in the back of your head as you nod, and Johnny scrambles down the bed.

He pulls down your shorts and tosses them aside, before his arms wrap around your thighs to pull them apart. His lips quickly find their way to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, kissing and licking and biting ever so slightly as you squirm helplessly beneath him.

His muscular arms keep your lower body exactly where he wants you, as his kisses move higher and higher before they press the outside of your folds and make you cry out.

"Poor little neglected kitty." He coos, before pressing more kisses to your lips.

"Johnny—"

"Shh." He interrupts you sharply yet playfully, looking up from between your legs and fixing you with a light-hearted glare. "Am making introductions."

He refocuses his attention back on your cunt, a hand moving so he can stroke his thumb back and forth over your sensitive nub while he coos sweet nothings into your centre.

"Need someone to take care of ye? I'm a good owner, promise." He dives in and captures your clit in an open-mouthed kiss, sucking slightly before pulling off with a pop. "Know how tae play with ye just right."

It's overwhelming, the way he talks and the fact he's talking to your cunt like it's separate from you, and yet something he's just enamoured with.

He starts eating you in earnest, tongue swiping up and down your folds, stubble rubbing against your skin—sweet, hot pleasure trickles through you with every little sensation, and you know you're not going to last long under Johnny's mouth.

"Fuck, can't wait to see ye properly. Pretty pussy, all fer me."

He dives back in, all tongue and lips and slick, wet heat as he makes love to your clit and folds with his mouth—drawing out every whine and whimper you're capable of making.

"Oh my god," You gasp, hand falling to his head so your fingers can tangle in his hair. "You're so good fucking with your tongue."

When he pulls back to talk, his lips glisten with your arousal. "'m not just talk, bonnie. Think ye can take my fingers too?"

"Please, please." You beg, almost urging him back to your core as his fingers circle your entrance before slowly sinking in.

The two digits stretch you slowly, getting you accustomed to the assault before his tongue is on your clit again, all of him working in tandem to make you shiver and squirm. Your cunt squelches with each thrust and lick, Johnny forcing more arousal to leak from your pretty hole as he lavishes you with attention and pleasure.

"Such pretty sounds." He mumbles, though his eyes don't meet yours.

"Do you mean me or..." You swallow nervously, shyness overtaking you as you summon the words to address yourself. "...her?"

"Both of ye." He growls, before feasting with renewed fervour.

You've never had a man eat you like this in your life, as Johnny drinks your nectar like he needs it to survive, and caresses your insides with the most reverent touch. His has you completely undone beneath him, moaning loud enough to disturb the neighbours and racing towards your peak in record time.

Your legs shake against his hold, your hips naturally rising to meet his mouth as your pleasure builds and builds, pushing you ever further toward ecstasy.

"I'm close." You whimper when the precipice arrives, and Johnny doesn't hold back in the slightest.

"Cum fer me." He mumbles, before sucking you over the edge. Your thighs squeeze and tremble around his head as you explode under his tongue and clench around his thick fingers.

His attention doesn't wane until he's wrung every little bit of pleasure out of your quivering body. "Mhmmm. Good girl."

He presses one last kiss to your clit, bidding her goodbye before he gently slides your shorts back up your legs and joins you at the head of the bed.

"Fuck..."

The afterglow flows through you like lava in your veins, filling you with a warmth that only grows as Johnny strokes your face.

"Can I kiss ye?" He asks, his lips hovering just a fraction from your own.

"I need you to. I'll just ignore the taste of myself."

"Your loss."

He closes the distance, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, one so achingly sweet you pay no mind to the taste of yourself on your tongue.

Johnny continues to caress your face as he deepens the kiss, making you breathless once more.

You find yourself having to turn away from the kiss to bury your head into the pillow as you stifle an overwhelming yawn.

"Tired fer real now, sweetheart?" Johnny whispers, chasing you to press kisses to the side of your head.

You turn back to face Johnny, noses almost brushing together as you give the slightest confirmatory nod. "'m a little sleepy."

Johnny rushes to slide off the bed, throw back the covers, and position himself on his back. He pats his chest in invitation, smiling at you ever so sweetly. "Your pillow awaits. Non-negotiable, aye?"

It takes a little bit of shuffling on both behalves to get you settled under the covers and snuggled up to the warmth and comfort that is Johnny's chest. Your cheek is pressed to his pec as your arm settles across his torso—he loops an arm around your back and pulls the other one over his body, holding the thigh that rests over his hips.

You cuddle in closer, relishing the way your bodies fit together, and the way his chest cradles your head so perfectly. "Mhm. Comfy pillow."

"I'm glad—"

You interrupt him immediately, your hand coming up to smooth over his chest and squeeze appreciatively.

"Shh." You whisper condescendingly, imitating Johnny's tone from earlier when he was between your legs. "I'm making introductions."

His chest rumbles with a laugh, as he lets you get well acquainted with his pecs. "Brat."

Your eyes quickly slip shut, your hand stilling of any further movement. Johnny's voice is a sweet whisper from above you as you drift out of consciousness.

"Sweet dreams, bonnie."

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schrodingers-romy · 4 months ago

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You Don’t Gotta Hold Me Down, Baby (I Know How to Sink) [Shidou Ryusei x Reader]

Pairing: Shidou Ryusei x GN!Reader Word Count: ~1800 [Ao3 Link]

Summary: Ryusei is used to feeling empty at the end of the day; at least, until he has you.

Warnings: crying, some light depression i think from shidou, kisses, reader and ryusei are both lonely and weird idk what to tell you, no gendered pronouns/terms used for reader, gratuitous petnames, some innuendo but nothing sexual/heated happens

Notes: I read in the character book line where he 'cries at the end of the day when he becomes nothing' and I haven't stopped thinking about it. I sincerely hope it's in character but idk. I love him anyways tho and I had fun writing this <3 Title is a lyric from RELAX AFTER WORK WITH A DRINK by Lilyisthatyou.

At the end of the day, Shidou Ryusei becomes nothing.

During the day, lit by the radiance of the sun, he was something. He was in control of his own destiny, a daredevil chasing the high of the next explosion. Whether that explosion came from kicking a soccer ball or kicking some slime’s face in was irrelevant; it was the rush of endorphins it gave him that was important. He was in peak form, the predator at the top of the food chain, devouring the opportunities the world had gifted him, glutting himself on whatever adrenaline high presented itself. But it never lasted; the explosive energy he had faded to nothing at the end of the day, pleasure slipping through his fingers like smoke in the wind, escaping him with the escaping daylight. After sunset, he was left empty, void of any sort of vitality; like a combustion engine with no fuel to light, he was left stiff, and cold, and useless. Forgotten.

He didn't even bother trying to stay up much past sunset, most days. Even with the sun’s lingering warmth rising from the earth during the night, it was always too cold for him, without the light shining on him. He was a photosynthetic organism, relying on sunlight to create his own sustenance in the form of his explosions.

Ryusei liked to think that the faster he went to sleep, the faster he would see the sun again.

It even worked, sometimes.

But sometimes it didn't. Sometimes he lay there for hours, too tired to do anything, and too tired to sleep. It was a bone-deep exhaustion, one that made his joints ache dully, and his eyes stay stuck open, as tears dripped freely down from them onto the thin and faded material of his pillowcase. Those nights, he desperately waited for the sun to return, so he could come back to life. So he could go back to seeking some way to make himself feel. And maybe he would be lucky enough to somehow make his mark on the world, so he would no longer fade from it every night like a mirage.

But he hadn’t made a mark on the world yet. He had yet to make something of himself.

So, at night, Shidou Ryusei would cry as he became nothing.

You were both a particular brand of lonely.

Something in the both of you had noticed each other; like calling to like. You were too close for people who had known each other for such a short period of time; it would be concerning, if either of you cared. But you didn’t, so you spent your days attached at the hip. Gorging yourselves on the attention of the other, desperate creatures starved for the acknowledgement and understanding that you had only ever found in each other.

It wasn’t an understanding borne of explicit conversation; the two of you had discussed almost everything under the sun and moon, but you both excelled at skirting the razor’s edge of baring your issues fully. Whether it was because neither of you understood your own mind yourself, or because some sort of animal instinct in you just understood each other without having to spill the gore of your worst feelings, it was unclear. It didn’t really matter, anyways. You were two sides of the same corroded coin, two pieces of a defective puzzle that could only ever fit together.

It was past midnight, and you were exhausted. The noise from the television was nothing more than the canned background hum to Ryusei's presence. The true focus of the scene was his flickering gaze and the hot press of his thighs against yours. You were sitting so close you could nearly count every single one of his numerous blond lashes. The shadows they cast on his cheeks were hypnotizing to you, and you found yourself leaning into him, with a combination of your own sleepiness and the dizzy, floaty sensation you always felt when you were this close to him casting you off balance. You could not help yourself from leaning further in, until you were falling into him. Your cheek landed pressed onto the warmth of his exposed collarbone, where his oversized shirt collar had slipped down to reveal tanned skin. You let out a heavy sigh, nuzzling into him, as he wrapped his arms around you to pull you ever closer to his heated body.

“Tired, babes?” he asked, the uncharacteristic deep, slow tone to his voice betraying his own sleepiness.

“Mhmm hmm,” you mumbled. “Too tired to go home. I’m staying here tonight.”

With anyone else, you wouldn’t have been so bold as to invite yourself to stay the night for the first time. But everything was different with Ryusei. You could be as bold as you wanted, take what you wanted, without fear of ridicule or rejection or anger. He would just give you a particular feral grin, when you asserted yourself, that made you feel confident and on top of the world.

It’s only because you’re so close that you felt the slight hitch in his breath. He covered it nearly seamlessly with his usual attitude. “Of course! I’d love to have you spend the night with me, sexy~”

You nipped lightly at his collar bone, chastising. “Just sleeping, Ryu, no innuendo intended.”

“Aww, how can you say that, after putting your teeth on me,” he whined, teasing. “You know that gets me going, sugar…”

“I want you to get going. To sleep,” you retorted. “I’m tiredddd.” You let your voice trail into a childish whine.

“Can’t have that, can we?” Ryusei shifted, sliding one arm underneath your thighs and one behind your back to lift you up into a bridal carry. “Do I have Your Highness’s permission to take you to bed? I promise not to have my wicked way with you there. Knight’s honor.”

“Ah, why would I not trust my most loyal knight? Take me away, good sir.”

Ryusei grinned wide enough to show gums, before carrying you out of the living room with surprising gentleness.

(Though it wasn’t entirely surprising, to you.)

The room was dark, aside from the weak, silvered light of the moon and stars that leaked from Ryusei’s uncovered window. It was just bright enough for you to see the faintest details of his face.

He looked softer, hair down, kohl washed away, venomous pink eyes half-lidded; a sort of physical representation of how he bared himself to you. You were compelled to pull him closer to you, until you could bury your face into his product-free hair. You let out a contented hum at feeling the abnormal silkiness of it.

You were so comfortable; you felt like you were melting into the mattress. It had been forever since you had gone to sleep feeling so relaxed (and safe, and not alone); you couldn’t be blamed for nearly drifting off the second you laid down with Ryusei in your arms.

You were almost gone, slipping into dreamland by the pull of the gentle hands of Morpheus, when you felt Ryusei begin to tremble in your arms.

It was like a switch had been flipped, removing sleep from the edges of your mind like the swipe of an eraser on a chalkboard. You were immediately focused on him.

“Ryusei? Are you okay?” you whispered, a sliver of panic slipping into your voice.

You could feel him shaking slightly in your hold, arms wrapped in a vice grip around you, face pressed tightly into your neck, hiding his expression from you. You felt a drip of wetness fall onto your skin and slip down.

He was crying.

“Baby,” you murmured, hugging his lax body even closer to yours, like you could tuck him away into your ribcage, safe and sound. “Ryu, darling, what’s wrong?” You felt off-balance, perhaps for the first time since you had met. Your understanding did not extend to this, not when he had so carefully pirouetted around any true pain he felt when you talked.

He gripped you tighter for a moment, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave bruises, before he relaxed his hold. “Nothin’s wrong.” He lifted his head to look at you.

The tear trails on his face were lit up like liquid drips of mercury in the moonlight. But he didn’t look devastated, as you expected; instead, he had the smallest, softest smile you had ever seen him wear. Even in the half-light, his gaze was soaked in so much affection, he looked love-drunk. It rendered you speechless.

“Y’know,” he laughed wetly, “I usually cry, at night. When I become nothing.” He took a deep, shuddering breath.

You lifted one hand to his face, wiping away the fresh flow of tears that leaked from his glittering eyes. Your eyebrows were creased, a pang going through your heart at his words.

But he wasn’t done, pausing only to nuzzle his cheek further into your hand, like a housecat. “Still cryin’, tonight, but I’m not sad. Y’see babes? I’m not sad. I don’t feel like nothing, I feel happy. Happy tears, sweetheart, just cause tonight I’m with you.” He giggled, hiccupping slightly as his laughter caught on the tears still welling up.

You gaped at Ryusei for a moment, before you yanked him into a kiss. It wasn’t the best kiss ever, still wet with his tears, barely more than a firm press of mouths together before you release him.

He grinned at you for a moment, before dropping back down onto you, boneless. “I feel drunk. Like I’m high. Crossfaded. On you, babe!~” he blabbered, sing-song. “It’s not an explosion, it’s a bonfire inside of me! Shit, this might be better than playing. Or fighting. I might even be a little horny right now, I can’t tell.”

“God, you’re so weird, Ryu.” You punctuated your statement with a firm kiss to his forehead, making an exaggerated ‘mwah’ sound that drew a giggle from the man on top of you. “I love you. I’m gonna be with you forever. I’ll move in, and we’ll sleep together every night, you’ll never feel like nothing again.”

“Maybe I AM horny…horny off of love…emotionally horny?” he rambled. “Fuck, I don’t know, babe, but I love you too, and I’m never gonna let your pretty ass go now, y’hear?”

“Perfect. We’ll become one organism. Symbiosis. Like lichen,” you breathed.

Ryusei let out a lovesick sigh. “Love it when you talk sexy to me.”

You felt one of his hands drift down to squeeze one of your ass cheeks.

You let out an exasperated, but fond sigh. “Ryusei. Go to sleep.”

“Okay honey~” he said, letting out a little giggle into your collarbone.

(And for the first time in years, neither of you fell asleep feeling empty, or lonely; and you would wake up to find joy in the sunrise together.)

#shidou x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou ryuusei x reader #ryusei shidou x reader #ryuusei shidou x reader #shidou ryusei #ryusei shidou #shidou ryuusei #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #shidou fluff #blue lock #gender neutral reader #reader insert #romy can write

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anjelicawrites · 3 months ago

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I think our new precious baby AcademicSlut!Aemond could cum just from giving head! He doesn’t need anything else, because he exists just to pleasure his lover. He probably doesn’t even realize what he’s done at first, because he’s so fucked dumb just from eating his lover out that he doesn’t initially understand why he’s suddenly high on endorphins. He has to be helped to sit down before he realizes that he came in his pants, and he looks so pretty and surprised and ashamed that he came without permission!

-🪴

He goes beyond that! He comes and stays hard, again and again, grabs your hips to keep them tight against his face as he moans against your core, deaf to the pain of your heels kicking against his back and your hands grabbing and pulling at his hair: all he can hear are your moans and whines of pleasure, he's choking on your taste, mindless he keeps sucking and kissing, fucking your hole with his tongue, until he collapses on the floor, the lack of oxygen winning against his stubborn hunger.

NSFW and 18 + only please!

Still high on your own pleasure, you help him sit on the floor with his back against the sofa (he's too heavy for you to maneuver anywhere else), to instruct him on taking long breathes and calm the violent beating of his heart. He looks into your eyes with an enlarged pupil, you can see he's trying to speak, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he tries to find the words.

"I fucked up." He ends up blurting, his only eye now eluding yours. "Why?" All your alarm bells ringing dangerously: Aemond beats himself up too much! "I came without your permission."

He lets his head fall backwards on the sofa: he can't face you, not when he's lost control so badly he couldn't follow the rules.

"Hey." You gently cup his cheeks, your hand light on his scarred side. "Look at me, my life? Please?"

He needs more of your sweet words, to finally face you, certain as he is that you will be cross with him; he's ready to break down when all he sees is the open acceptance on your face.

"You didn't fuck up, Aemond. You were feeling so good you couldn't control yourself, I can't see the bad in that."

You kiss him, a chaste one.

"You have my permission to come as many times as you want, and need when you're eating me. It's so hot Aemond."

He surges towards you, kissing you deeply, his hands anchoring your body to his, until the lack of air forces your lips to part.

"Let me make you feel good again." He growls against your mouth.

Fluidly you stand up an finish undress yourself under the burning of his stare. Slowly, savoring the way he drinks down your body, you offer him your hand to help him up his feet.

"Let's go to bed, my life and you can have me as many times as you need."

#answered #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #studying with academic!slut!aemond

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sometimesanalice · 4 months ago

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It’s a prompt party! 🪩🍾🪅

“ oh god you’re really gonna do the whole rocks against the window at midnight boombox thing aren’t you? ” from soft ships with any B-named Dagger of your choice

Morgan! I had every intention of delivering you a little Bob morsel, but this prompt was just too fitting for the Hey, Sailor babes! I hope you enjoy! 💖

In the two months since Bradley’s been home from his latest deployment, he’s gone from a one night stand to a boyfriend.

He’d been a goner from the moment he’d seen you in that sparkly dress with that shiny bridesmaid tiara on your head that night during Fleet Week. And while he wouldn’t change a thing about how the two of you gotten together- especially now with the way you’re draped across his chest, your body lush and soft against his- he did have some remorse about not getting to win you over the way a girl like you deserved to be.

"Baby?" Bradley runs his fingers along your the side of your thigh.

You tilt your head up to look at him. "Hmm?"

"Are you happy? With us and how things have been going?"

"I mean, I’m riding a pretty stellar endorphin high right now, Lieutenant,” you tease, propping yourself up on his chest wearing a mischievous smile. Such troublemaker. He lightly pinches the fleshy part of your hip, making you laugh and squirm closer. “Sorry, sorry, Lieutenant Commander.”

"That’s more like it," he says smugly.

"Not beating those rank kink allegations there, Bradshaw.” You dip down and drop a quick peck on his lips. “But yes, I’m very happy. Why? You are too, right?” you ask him tentatively, casually.

The last thing he wanted was you second guessing anything about the way he feels about you.

He lifts a hand to your face and gently pulls your lower lip free where you had it pinned between your teeth with his thumb. "Of course I am," he assures you, "It’s just, we fucked on that first night, and I feel like I never got the chance to properly…woo you.”

“Woo?” you repeat, giving him an impressed look. “If I remember correctly, I’m pretty sure you wooed me quite thoroughly with your-”

He groans and covers your mouth with his hand, he can feel the curve of your smile under his palm before he slides it around the back of your neck. “No, I mean it. You wined and dined me-”

“-you mean I tequila shot and blew you-”

Rooster huffs a laugh, shaking his head amused. “That too, which I’ll concede was clearly a very effective method. After all, who am I to say no to a gorgeous girl who wants to take me home with her?” He wraps his arm around your waist and rolls over taking you with him and pressing you into the mattress. “But I never got to pull out my best moves.”

“Oh?” you say teasingly, tilting your hips into his, sliding your foot along his calf.

“You know what I mean, I want to do this right. With flowers and chocolates and sunsets and tambourines.”

You’re the kind of girl who is worth the effort. And even though he already has you- and you have him more than wrapped around your finger- he still doesn’t want to skip over a single step with you.

He wants to charm you. To sweep you off your feet. To make you giddy and flustered.

“Wait, Rooster, you’re being serious?” Your eyes search his face for hint of a joke that’s not there. “Oh god, you’re really gonna do the whole rocks against the window at midnight boombox thing aren’t you?”

He grins, but doesn’t reply. Already starting to craft a game plan in his mind. And he knows the two of you are going to enjoy every moment of it.

Bradley leans in to kiss you. “Get ready to be wooed, baby.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “Show me what you got, Lieutenant.”

it's a prompt party 🪩

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #it's a prompt party 🪩

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taylorsage22 · 9 months ago

Text

Let Me Hear You! (Alex Karev x Reader)

Warning-Oral smut,

You bit your lip harshly as you tried to keep a handle of the noises threatening to spill out of you, tugging at the ropes that kept your hands tied above your head. Alex growled at that, head between your legs and peering up at you with his mesmerizing brown eyes.

His tongue continued to work it’s magic on you, bringing you towards the edge at an alarming rate. Alex Karev was talented in many areas, everyone knew that. But this was one area only you were able to sample his expertise in.

He let out another appreciative grumble as he felt your pussy clench on his fingers. Two of them continued to fuck into you at a toe-curling pace, stroking parts of you that you’d never be able to reach on your own. His mouth worked steadily on your clit, sucking rhythmically in a way that only served to hypnotise you further. Every time the flat of his tongue licked over the bundle of nerves, you couldn’t help but jolt, doing your best to bite back a squeak.

Are you going to cum babygirl?” He barely pulled away from you, lips still brushing your clit as he spoke. The sound of his voice comforted you yet it’s predatory edge did the opposite. You nodded eagerly, still biting your lip and screwing your eyes shut to escape the intensity of the situation.

“Uh huh…” You let out a muffled sound despite your best efforts.

“What was that sexy girl ?”

“Yes Alex!” You wheezed, face turning red. You couldn’t help but buck your hips up, trying to get his mouth back on you again. Alex smiled, satisfied.

“Good girl…”

You let out a choked sound, the sensations feeling overwhelming but addicting at the same time. Alex watched you closely through his lashes. He crooked his fingers just right inside you, fucking them into you at a faster pace than before. He sucked harshly at your clit, brushing his teeth against it lightly and revelling in the little squeak you failed to keep under wraps.

No matter how long you’d been dating Alex, you always did your best to keep quiet in the bedroom. Whether it was from shyness or the prospect of being overheard Alex didn’t know but it was beginning to frustrate him. So tonight, he’d do his best to change that.

“Cum for me, baby…”

And you did, practically at his command. Your breath came out in punches as your entire body was overcome with convulsions, straining against the ties of your wrists. Your legs shook around Alex's head, squeezing and releasing as each wave of pleasure came over you. The man hummed in satisfaction as he felt your wetness on his tongue, your pussy squeezing his fingers impossibly tight.

But for the most part, you stayed annoyingly silent, letting out a few breathy gasps yet pressing your lips tightly together whenever you wanted to be louder. It only made Alex more determined.

He pulled away once you’d ridden out the last waves of your release, body going lax against him and legs flopping back onto the mattress. You stared at him in awe with glazed over eyes, still riding the endorphin high. You looked every bit the debauched mess that Alex wanted you to be. He observed you closely, eyes briefly flicking up to your wrists to check you weren’t cutting off your own blood supply.

While you caught your breath, body still relaxed, Alex took the opportunity to manoeuvre you how he wanted. He hauled himself up onto the mattress from where he’d been kneeling on the floor between your legs and spread your thighs. He sat between your legs, moving one so it was around his waist while using his own leg to pin down the other. The position left your swollen, sopping wet pussy wide open for him.

He couldn’t help but groan at the sight of it, still twitching and clenching around nothing where it was oversensitive. It was at this point that you began to take note of the position you found yourself in. You were completely vulnerable and exposed to him, unable to move your arms or your legs. You struggled weakly against his hold, testing Alex’s strength only to find it was far superior to yours.

“Now, baby…” He started, stroking up and down your inner thighs. “I’m feeling very generous tonight, so lets see if you can cum again, hmm?” He didn’t wait for a reply, trailing his fingers down your thighs again until they came to your oversensitive, wet heat.

You made a startled sound when he slipped two fingers inside you easily, already clenching and curling your toes. When his other hand came to rub your clit softly, you couldn’t help but start straining against him, trying to escape the sensations as you clenched your jaw shut.

In his mercy, Alex started with softer touches before working his way up, wanting to overstimulate you but not the point of causing any real problems. But that didn’t stop a pained sound passing your lips as you squirmed against him, eyes closed. His touch was a constant, unrelenting pressure. His fingers inside you continued to fuck into you hard, jabbing somewhere that made you see stars. His other hand rubbed your clit just as harshly. The dual stimulation was far too much and you thought you might pass out at any second.

“Let me hear you baby…” Alex hummed, smirking in satisfaction as you twitched helplessly beneath him. “Tell me what you need…”

You let out a whimper, face bright red as you struggled to obey him. Being loud didn’t come naturally to you but you didn’t want to disappoint him.

“Please!” You squeaked out, wanting more than anything to cover your face with shame.

“What do you want, princess?”

“It’s too much! I-“ You cut yourself off with a loud, drawn-out whimper that erupted from you without warning. You were a shaking mess beneath him, completely at his mercy. Alex’s touch was like fire against you but you were no longer sure if you wanted it to stop.

“Talk to me Y/n, let me hear you.”

You could do little more than pant and beg, and Alex knew it. Smirking, he added another finger, your pussy easily accommodating the extra stretch. You whined as he pressed against you more firmly. You twitched every time his fingers rubbed your clit just right and you thought you might be losing your mind.

“I-please!”

“Are you going to cum again for me?” You nodded. “Sexy Goddess…” He breathed. “Go ahead then, show me how much you love this.”

His gaze was intense as he caught your eyes, holding yours for a moment before they began to roll back into your head. You came again, harder than you ever had before.

“Alexx!”

You jerked against him as Alex continued to rub you through your orgasm, teetering on a knife edge between pleasure and pain. The shudders were uncontrollable, as were the noises coming from your mouth. You weren’t sure what you were saying at that point, only that you were being obscenely loud. The thought of it only served to make you more aroused.

Alex pulled his fingers out of you with a wet sound. If you had the energy to blush, you would’ve. He continued to rub your clit softly for a few more moments, revelling in the unrestrained whimpers you let out as your body jolted.

“You’re such a good girl…” Despite it all, you smiled at the praise. “And you sounded so fucking gorgeous for me, I almost finished in my own fucking pants. You shouldn’t keep all those delicious noises to yourself, Baby…”

You looked down, suddenly shy at the fact Alex had heard you like that. When you looked away, he clicked his tongue disapprovingly. He took your chin in between two of his fingers and tilted your head up to give you a messy kiss. You whimpered into his mouth when he bit softly at your tongue.

“Now how about you help me out, hmm?” He ground his cock into your hip, breath mingling with yours. “Your mouth is producing all kinds of wonders today, I wonder if it can do one more.”

#alex karev #Smut #Alex Karev x reader smut #greys anatomy

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blackswan7x · 7 months ago

Text

— jjba: you ride Joseph Joestar’s face

character: Joseph Joestar, female reader

rating: NSFW. minors DNI.

Imagine…

Despite your protests, Joseph insisted he wanted you to sit on his face.

You objected saying you’d much rather lie on your back if he wanted to go down on you, but he wasn’t having it.

“When I say I want you to sit on my face, babe, I mean it. Besides could you imagine a more handsome seat for you. Honestly?” He had gave you his mischievous grin that was so gorgeous sometimes it made you ache.

So of course…you said yes.

Now, he is underneath you. You sit astride is face, positioned so you are resting your hands on his strong pecs and looking at the rest of his naked body. You try to touch his throbbing cock, hard and neglected and leaking precum across his lower stomach but he swats your hand away.

He had made it clear beforehand this was suppose to be all about your pleasure.

Soon, he has you whining and whimpering at the way he enthusiastically laps at your folds and teases your sensitive clit. He sucks hard suddenly and you throw your head back, your hands rest on his firm pecs as your arch your back.

Suddenly, he pulls away from your core.

“FUCK!” He groans loudly, causing you to shiver. “You taste so good, baby. Goddamn.”

He slaps your ass hard and you moan at how good it feels, any pain quickly transforming into endorphins that make you tremble. He grabs your ass with his big, calloused hands and spreads your cheeks apart.

You blush terribly, feeling so exposed to him but some part of you loves being this vulnerable to him.

“Oh my god!” He moans, “You’re dripping me for me.”

Any response you had is quickly lost as his mouth latches on to your engorged clit as two thick fingers press inside your swollen pussy. He curls his fingers in just the right way to stimulate from the inside as he continues his torturous licking of your clit

You rock your hips against his face, really riding him and it only prompts him to chuckle and increase his pace on you. Your thighs begin to shake and you feel the sparks of the pleasure to come deep within your belly

It all becomes too much. The sound of his moans as he worships your pussy. The feeling of his fingers filling you up. The added friction of your own hips grinding against his face. The rush of orgasm ignites within you, setting fire to your entire body.

Joseph works you through your high never stopping his fingers inside you or the suction of his mouth on your clit.

You clutch onto his waist as you cry out. You watch his cock twitch and somehow grow even harder as you moan. You shake and pant as the high leaves you, but you know you could go again.

You don’t care if he’s said this was all about you.

You need to taste him.

You need to give him as much pleasure as he’s given to you.

You lay down on him, already feeling electrified at the way his muscled body presses against your soft curves.

You take his thick length in your hand and begin to stroke him.

“Couldn’t resist me any longer cou— OH GOD!”Joseph’s smug words quickly turn to a groan as you take him fully into your hot mouth.

You use your hand to works his base as you hollow your cheeks and press your tongue along the bottom of his cock. You go until your cheeks ache and part from him with lewd pop of your mouth.

“Your next line is, ‘god, I love you…” you tease, before kissing his tip.

“God!” He moans, his hands gripping your hips, lost in the pleasure you’ve given him, “I love you….hey, wait! Th-that’s my thing!”

You laugh before taking him once more.

#jjba smut #jjba fanfic #jjba drabble #jjba joseph #joseph joestar x y/n #joseph joestar x reader #joseph joestar x you #joseph joestar x female reader #joseph joestar #battle tendency #jojos bizarre adventure #jjba part 2

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honeyhotteoks · 22 days ago

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I heard dom!Yunho and aftercare? 👀 I’m being so needy lmao but what can I say, I’m whipped for this man (always have been but let’s just say it’s gotten significantly worse since I started reading your fics *pointed stare*)

it’s okay i am whipped for him too. i’m answering this one, but i saw a few others asking the same so i’m lumping it all together in this post on his aftercare.

let’s get into it under the cut —

aftercare. a topic and a post in itself because truly i think this is the most underrated part of any d/s relationship and something more people outside of d/s dynamics should actually be doing.

i was trying to write some of this up in my reply on yunho’s ideal sub, but that post keeps getting eaten by tumblr so i’ll just quickly add that note here as well -> doms need aftercare too! doms are people who just engaged in a scene, and just because they were “in control” it doesn’t mean they don’t need checking in with. so at the bottom of this aftercare for his submissive list, i’ve added aftercare for yunho too.

aftercare for his submissive looks like:

soft kisses, tender touches. after a scene, especially a harder one that involved any amount of degradation or humiliation, yunho would be the type to soften his voice, press kisses all over your face and any marks, and soothe you with his words - “you’re safe, i’m right here, sweetheart,” and lots of praise, “you did beautifully for me, so perfect, baby,”

physical care and checks. especially if the scene involved rigging, spanking, or any more intense element, yunho would be quick to check your body over for any injuries or marks. especially with rigging, a good rigger knows how to assess nerve endings during and after a scene to ensure that there’s no damage and i know yunho would have done enough research and would care enough to do that job well.

babying, doting. he’s the type to want to keep you close after, for you but also for himself. he’d scoop you up in his arms and cradle you, tell you he’s going to take care of you, and maybe even run a bath and just pamper you.

boundary checks. this one is key, especially in an intense scene, but once the initial high of a scene fades, he would want to debrief and ensure he didn’t do anything too far, if he tried something new how did you like it, etc. he’s always improving and working on himself, that means his relationship too.

food, water, vitamins. these are key! once you’re ready for him to step away, yunho’s ready to cook or order something for you and get your levels back up, and makes you drink multiple glasses of water to replenish. vitamins are also something underrated from an aftercare pov, and i think as yunho got more experienced as a dom and did more research this is something he would bring back in to help stabilize all those rushing endorphins and sudden serotonin drops.

praise, communication, and compliments. this is outside of just the tenderness he’s giving at the start, i think he would be the type to tell you clearly what you did well and what he liked so you don’t have to wonder and hope if he liked it / if he’s pleased etc.

aftercare for yunho:

clear communication. providing him with clarity on the fact that you are safe, you feel safe, and you feel respected is important. especially in harder scenes or more intense dynamics. this might look like saying something as clear as “you made me feel so safe” or “you always take good care of me” etc. to reiterate that they are doing right by you as a dom

food! water! vitamins! if they’re important for a sub they’re important for a dom too. after a scene he may need to dote on his parter, but soft reminders for him to care for himself or maybe getting these things for him later on would be a reciprocal moment of aftercare he would appreciate.

boundary checks. they got both ways like i said - so ensuring that he’s asked how the scene was for him, if he was comfortable, etc., are all very important parts

cuddles. he’s going to be giving them, but sometimes after a scene it hits the dom harder, so crawling into his arms, cuddling, all of that would be something that he would appreciate. yunho’s very physical, and i think to be able to physically feel that his submissive is safe and happy would be a huge comfort to him.

a little quiet. after the checking and the cuddling and all of it, a lot of people can feel flattened out by a scene. i emphasize quiet because i could see yunho as the type to need his partner present and physically next to him/touching, but need a moment of mental quiet to just process and reconnect in that silence.

i’m sure there’s more, but these are the big ones! i hope this was fun and hits what you were looking for.

#answered ask #yunho #yunho hard thoughts #yunho hard hours #atz #honeyhotteoks thoughts

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atleastpleasetelephone · 1 month ago

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Kinktober Day 31 - Aftercare

A/N: Finally, the last day. I'm not sure I could really say I enjoyed doing this, but it's over now.

Pairing: Elvis x reader

Word count: 741

TWs: Choking, slapping, name-calling, cumming on face... and then the worst trigger of all - BABY TALK.

Kinktober masterlist

His fingers curl around your throat as he feels you getting closer to orgasm, thrusting harder and faster, losing himself as he chases his own high too.

“Take it, ya dirty little slut.”

The words and the pressure of his fingers on your windpipe push you over the edge into oblivion and you're clenching around him as he carries on verbally abusing you, slapping your face and telling you how dirty you are and how he's going to cum all over you. You moan pornographically and he pulls out, stroking himself a couple of times before moving so he cums on your face and in your open mouth. He falls down beside you, panting.

Your whole body tingles as you start to come round from your orgasm, lying there feeling warm and contented.

He closes his eyes, feeling the rush of endorphins too. Fuck. He loves having you like this, so rough and animalistic. Though it always makes him feel a little guilty afterwards, no matter how many times you tell him you love it too. As he starts to feel like he's coming round again he sits up slowly and then pads over to the bathroom to find a washcloth.

“Sorry, baby. Made a real mess,” he says, sweetly, wiping your face.

You smile. “S'ok El.”

Tossing the cloth onto the floor, he pulls you into his arms.

“You're so beautiful, baby.” Kissing your neck. “Like an angel. Can't believe I got so lucky with ya.”

You giggle, bashful. “Don't be silly. I'm lucky.”

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head and pulls your chin up so he can look into your eyes. “You're just perfect. My perfect little angel. God, you're so precious.”

You keep giggling. It's hard not to be embarrassed when he says this kind of thing, but you know why he's doing it. Whenever he's rough with you, afterwards he's so gentle and caring. Like he's telling you that he doesn't really mean it when he calls you a slut or pulls your hair.

“It's okay, El. Really. I had fun.”

He pulls you in somehow closer and nuzzles your neck.

“I love everything about ya, baby. From this pretty little head down to your cute little sooties.”

He starts to kiss you then, starting at your temple and finishing at your big toe. You wriggle and laugh and look at him with big brown eyes full of love.

Okay, so maybe you enjoy this a little more than you're willing to admit.

Looking up at you through his lashes he moves back up your body again, smothering you with feather-light kisses.

“Mmmm. I love it when you do that,” you tell him. “My pookie bear.” Your fingers in his hair, a grin on your face.

He puts his arms back around you, cuddling you close again.

“He yoves her,” he murmurs, his nose pressed against yours.

“She yoves him too,” you coo back.

He gets like this when he's done with any kind of love-making, but he's especially cute when he's been rough with you.

“Promise?” He asks, pouting.

“Promise. She yoves him forever.”

He growls and buries his head in the crook of your neck.

“He yoves her forever.”

You giggle and grab hold of him tightly. “She yoves him more!”

“No!” He's like a little child now, cuddling you and squeezing you and desperate to be as close to you as he can get. “Not possible!”

You both giggle then, like a pair of kids, rolling around in the bed arguing over who loves the other more. Eventually, breathless, you land with your head on his chest as he sprawls on his back.

“She never leave him?” He whispers into your hair.

“Never,” you reply, firmly. “Never, never, never.”

He always asks you this. Always worried you'll leave like his mama did, paranoid and afraid that all women will leave him in the end. But you mean it. And looking at him lying there in the bed now you can't imagine how you ever could. How anyone could.

He kisses your hair. “He never leave her either.”

You close your eyes, sighing contentedly, and feel yourself drift off to sleep. He sighs too. It's nights like this when he feels that bit less lonely, like maybe he can fall asleep without chemical assistance for a change.

Never, never, never. He always asks and that's always what you say. Maybe he’s just starting to believe you.

***

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fic #elvis smut #elvis fanfic #elvis presely smut #elvis imagine #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis x reader #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x you #kinktober #starsandskieskinktober

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wososcripts · 1 year ago

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Tell Me of Your Grief

Stina Blackstenius x Reader

Summary: The fourteenth of March brings back some rather difficult memories, and you don't always make the healthiest decisions. Stina intervenes.

Word count: 4.4k

A/N: sorry it's been a while, I've started uni again which means my writing is somewhat slower! With some luck I'll be able to get things up once a week? But that remains to be seen... I promise this is hurt/comfort and not just pain btw.

Warnings ⚠️: discussion of death, self harm behaviors (mild), angst angst angst

------------------------------------

You woke up that morning to a text from Jonas saying you didn’t have to come to training.

It felt weak to admit it, but part of you was relieved. You knew Katie must’ve talked to him, which was mortifying if you let yourself think about it too much, but she knew you needed this day to yourself.

It was the anniversary of your best friend’s passing—five years in the making. You hadn’t told many of your teammates what happened, or why you became so withdrawn and somber the week around the 14th of March. It was too difficult to explain. All of the dramatics that surrounded the event, the pain, what you had done wrong, what she had too, it was all still too delicate for eyes you didn’t completely trust.

You hadn’t even told your girlfriend Stina yet. You’d meant to, really, you had, but the days slipped by and there never seemed like a good time to do it. You knew it would ruin any good mood you were in, and honestly you enjoyed having Stina as your respite when the rest of the world seemed to be knocking against your skull. But it felt wrong that she didn’t know. It felt as though you were hiding something from her, even if it wasn’t intentional.

“Hi baby, I’m not feeling well today so I won’t be at practice. Don’t worry your head when I’m not there. It’s nothing too serious, though, so I’ll be back tomorrow.” You spoke into your phone, recording a voice note to send to her so she wouldn’t be left in the dark about where you were.

Stina was a worrier, something you yourself could understand, so you always made the effort to let her know if you were running late or not going to something. Otherwise you’d inevitably get a call with her anxious voice on the other line.

It was early, too early for even Stina to be up. The sun had barely begun cresting over the horizon, casting a slight glow to everything. You wanted to go back to sleep, particularly since you hadn't slept all that well to begin with. Your back hurt from being tensed all night as you were plagued with anxious dreams. On your palms were the remnants of nail indentations—some of them bloody from how hard you had been pressing.

You turned on a podcast and closed your eyes, hoping the sound of human voices would lull you to sleep. It must've worked for a little while, because the next time you opened your eyes it was truly morning, and the podcast had switched to another episode.

The dreams had continued, unsurprisingly considering your waking mental state, and the extra hour of sleep you might be able to get if you closed your eyes wasn't worth it. So you got out of bed, throwing on a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt to go for a run.

You weren't typically a runner—in fact you were practically ethically against doing it as a hobby—but it was useful for clearing your head. And with no training today, it would feel good to get out for at least a little while. So you blasted your music and took off into the streets of London, completely lost in your own world. Nobody spoke to you, nobody looked at you.

By the time you had finished, you were sweaty, red-faced, and exhausted. The endorphins began to flood your system as you stripped and started the shower. You turned it almost as high as it could go, hoping for the burn against your skin. You hissed, stepping under the spray, and tears sprung to your eyes. Your skin immediately began to redden. But you didn’t move to lower the heat, instead grabbing your shampoo, gritting your teeth, and bearing it.

—

“Morning, Blackstenius.” Beth called, clapping her on the back soundly as she wandered into the locker room.

Stina expected to find you there, sitting by your locker getting changed into your kit and reading your book as you always did, each morning. But you weren’t there. Your locker hadn’t even been touched. She furrowed her brow, then remembered that you had sent her a message earlier. Maybe you had asked her for a ride and she hadn’t seen? Maybe you were going to be late today? Maybe you had some kind of appointment you’d forgotten about until the last minute—you were notorious for that.

“Morning,” Katie said, sitting down next to Stina on the bench and pulling her kit out of her bag.

“Morning, Katie.” She replied, opening her phone to look at her message.

She brought the phone to her ear, confusion and concern filling her chest as she listened to your voice. Though your words weren’t all that worrying, she could hear in your voice that things weren’t right.

“How’s she doing?” Katie asked, having heard your voice coming from the phone. Her voice was cautious, something unusual for the Irish captain.

“Did you know she wouldn’t be here today?” Stina asked, confused as to why Katie seemed to be clued in to your mood before her. Maybe you had sent her a similar message? She was your best friend, after all. The two of you made a ridiculous pair—her loud and aggressive, you nearly silent and composed—but you’d known each other longer than anyone else on the team, and everyone knew Katie would do practically anything for you.

Katie was quiet, glancing around at the other girls in the room. Now Stina was worried. Even though you had told her not to be, that it wasn’t anything serious, she couldn’t help it now that Katie was acting so strangely.

Once it was just Stina and Katie in the locker room, Katie answered her question.

“Listen, it isn’t my place to tell you anything. You know how private she is…” Katie sighed, rubbing her temples. “I can’t believe she didn’t tell you, probably didn’t want to worry you, the idiot,” she mumbled under her breath to an increasingly concerned Stina.

“Katie.” Stina said firmly, “What the fuck is going on?”

She wasn’t usually one to swear. But where you were concerned, the possibility that you were hurting, and had hidden it from her, that warranted much more than cursing.

“Today is difficult for her, very difficult. That’s all I feel comfortable saying. But if you want to go, Jonas is going to understand.”

Stina’s heart was in her stomach. Images flashed through her mind, a thousand different horrible things this could mean.

"Difficult?" She questioned, "Katie, is she safe? Do I have to be prepared for—"

"It's not like that, she isn't in physical danger."

The answer wasn't reassuring to Stina, who now felt a little ill at the thought of you home alone today. She should be there with you. Someone should be there, if you didn't want her (God, she hoped you wanted her, trusted her). The urge to press more information out of Katie was strong, but Stina held herself back. Katie was right—you needed to tell Stina yourself. Otherwise any insight into your head would be forced entry, a violation of the trust you had both with Katie and with her.

So Stina simply nodded and looked back at her phone to reply to your message.

Okay, I hope you're feeling all right. Can I swing by later and bring you something? I'd love to see you <3

She wanted to give you an option to say no to her visit—though she would prefer to just go over there now. At least now if you didn't answer before she showed up she could say she had reached out.

—

You waited until the water ran cold to get out of the shower. Your skin was raw to the touch, and still a subtle red color after you had dried yourself off and began braiding your hair. You could hardly stand to look at yourself.

You threw on the only clothes you could stand on your skin—a pair of soft sweatpants and fuzzy socks—along with Stina's old Häcken hoodie she left at your place a few days ago. It smelled of her which comforted you even if she wasn't here.

Your phone dinged with a message. Upon opening it, you saw Stina and Katie had messaged, and that you had two missed calls.

"Eat something." Was all your message from Katie said.

She knew you, and knew you wouldn't want to eat today. But you had to.

You went to open Stina's text when your phone lit up with another incoming call. It was from Sandra, the mother of your friend. She did this every year, and every year you told yourself you wouldn't pick up. It wasn't healthy for either of you—it reopened wounds that were barely scabbing over as it was. She inevitably cried, and asked why you had left her daughter alone that night, and you bit your lip raw trying to keep quiet and apologize.

But even though you knew the script, you picked up the phone.

"Hi," you said, your voice noticeably smaller.

You heard a sigh of relief on the other end.

"How are you, Sandra?" You continued, your fingers picking at your lip anxiously. You felt it start to bleed and did nothing.

"Are you still in Limerick?" You continued your flood of questions, waiting for her onslaught to begin.

A few minutes later, once you were on your tenth question and you'd switched from your lip to pressing your nails into your bloodied palm, you heard her begin to cry.

You weren't sure how you managed this every year. Memories of the funeral flashed behind your eyes, and how you hadn't been allowed to stand near the front with the rest of the friends and family. How Sandra had wailed, and smacked you across the face in the parking lot. You stared at your kitchen backsplash and just listened.

"Why, why did you do it?" She cried, and you bit the inside of your cheek.

"I'm sorry." You whispered.

"You left her alone, you killed her, you always brought her home expect that one fucking night and look what happened. It should've been you, it should've been you, you don't deserve this—"

And so it continued. Tears streamed down your face as your brain began to shut down as a defense mechanism. You just felt numb. Nobody else existed in the world except for you and this woman whose life you had ruined. No Katie, No Stina, Nobody that gave you their love and wanted you here. You didn't deserve what you had, not your success where it should've been your friend's, not your team, not your girlfriend. You were an imposter on this planet, a thief.

—

It turned out that going over to your place wasn't as simple as it seemed. Stina tried asking Jonas if she could be excused from practice, but he insisted that she stay just for an hour. Arsenal had a match with the Spurs in four days and Jonas wanted to go over strategies with the forwards. No skipping.

So Stina stayed—looking at her phone every thirty seconds for a text from you. There was nothing, and it freaked her out even more.

Whatever Jonas was saying, none of it was registering. She would ride the bench if she had to, it didn't matter to her now. Her leg bounced nervously, and Viv looked at her with concern on her face every couple of minutes. When Jonas went outside to take a quick call, she turned to Stina and immediately asked after her.

"What's wrong, is it something with Odi?"

Stina nodded, her tight lipped expression telling Viv all she needed to know. She gave Stina a look of sympathy and glanced at her watch, clearly wondering when the meeting would be over as well.

"Odi, something's wrong with her?" Beth butted in unabashedly.

You'd gotten the nickname for a few reasons: you'd danced for years as a child as a ballerina, which showed in your play. You were showy, and graceful, not the aggressive type. Like a swan, someone had once said to you—and the swan lake association stuck: Odette, or Odi for short. Arsenal's dancer.

Jonas re-entered the room before Beth could ask any more questions, saving Stina the struggle.

"For Christ's sake, let the poor girl go," Beth called out as Stina checked her phone for the hundredth time.

Jonas sent a look Beth's way, but decided to be merciful.

"Alright, Blackstenius, you're excused. But I'll be seeing you tomorrow."

Stina practically ran back to the locker room, throwing her kit into her bag and getting changed as fast as she could. A steady sense of dread was building in her. She decided to call you as she left the training grounds and walked to her car, hoping she could catch you and tell you she was coming. It would soothe her mind just to hear your voice.

But instead of your voice on the other end, Stina was met with the busy signal. That confused her even more—you weren't a fan of phone calls necessarily, and she knew your parents would be working now, so it was unlikely they would have called you.

She tried once more, hoping she had just happened to catch you at the tail end of a call, but you still didn't answer.

—

You had barely hung up the phone with Sandra before the tears began to pour from your eyes. It was as though time had made no difference and you were hearing of your friend's death for the first time. All the pain, all the self loathing that had fallen down upon you then still crushed your shoulders with its weight.

Your phone dinged again—a message from Katie.

Respond to me or I'm coming over there myself.

You didn't want Katie here. She had been there in years past, and for her to see you no better despite the time and therapy you put in, well you couldn't handle the shame.

I'm alive and well - see you tomorrow at training

You replied, knowing if you told her you were fine and left it at that she might kill you herself.

You giggled at the thought of her huffing and puffing at you, demanding you take better care of yourself like a surrogate mother. When your mother wasn’t around, Katie did a damn good impression of her. You never got away with anything if Katie had a say. You laughed through your tears, feeling like every nerve of yours was on a razor's edge.

A knock at the door barely registered in your mind as you wandered over to the couch, wanting nothing more than to curl up in a ball and waste away for the next twelve hours. Your head was beginning to hurt from all the crying, which only soured your mood further. For the first time you had the thought: I don't want to be alone.

You thought it must’ve been a hallucination, the way Stina appeared in front of you.

—

Stina wasn’t sure what to expect when she knocked on the door of your apartment. She had spent the entire drive over worrying about how she could find you, partially cursing Katie for giving her just enough info to get her mind going in a million unhelpful directions. The fact that you weren’t texting her back hadn’t helped either. The road before her blurred as she drove without thinking, her body getting her to your apartment building on instinct.

The elevator dinged at each floor and with it her heartbeat increased.

When you didn’t answer the door it dropped.

“Hello?” Stina called out, having opened the door with the spare key you had given her a few months ago. She cursed herself for not staying with you last night when you looked so weighed down, so tired. She’d let you convince her you were fine—something she wouldn’t do again anytime soon.

When she turned the corner from your kitchen into the open space of your living room she spotted you. There you were, curled up on the couch in a small ball, silent.

“Did you hear me knock?” She asked softly, approaching you.

You didn’t reply, didn’t even look at her.

She slowly reached out a hand to place it on your head gently, when you turned and looked at her. It frightened her—the look in your eyes. She hadn’t ever seen them so empty.

“Stina?” you whispered, confusion present in your tone.

“Yes, min kärlek, jag är här.”

She put a hand softly on your face, cupping your cheek.

“You’re really here?”

There were tears beginning to gather in your already red eyes. Stina felt her throat constrict. You’d been crying, clearly a lot by how swollen your face was.

Stina pulled you up and into her arms easily, shifting you so she could sit on the couch with you in her lap.

“What’s wrong?” she asked gently, remembering that you had said once that hearing her speak her native Swedish calmed you down.

You wiped your eyes, lip still trembling slightly.

“Did Katie say something? Or Jonas?”

Stina wiped your cheeks with the pad of her thumb, brow creased with worry.

“Katie said today was hard for you, that’s it. Promise.”

You went silent, thinking.

“I was going to tell you. I promise, I meant to. But it just never seemed like a good time, or I just wanted to avoid it as long as possible…you see, Katie met me not long after it happened, she was there, it’s different. I didn’t trust her with this and not you on purpose. She can’t help but know.” You shifted off of Stina’s lap, curling in on yourself next to her so your skin wasn’t touching.

“I hate myself for it. I do, really. And every time I tell someone, they might hate me too, I know that. And I just couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t give you the chance to hate me.”

Stina put a hand on your shoulder, biting her lip to contain a small sob when you flinched away from her. It was as if you weren’t even there in front of her. All of the grace and kindness and light that had been there just a few days ago seemed to have been swallowed by darkness. To hear you say the words ‘I hate myself’? Stina could cry at the thought of it. Those were words that should never come from your mouth. It was like a knife in her ribcage.

“Min söta… älskling”

“Don’t call me that,” you sobbed, putting your hands over your eyes and hiding your face from her.

"Snälla, låt mig hjälpa dig, please, I want to help.”

You shook your head, face still obscured from Stina’s view.

This was horrible. Stina felt as though she’d eaten something rotten the way her stomach churned. She was helpless, completely in the dark. Here she was, the person who was supposed to take care of you and love you, and she could hardly do anything. All she could think to do as you cried quietly was pull you into her side and rock you slowly. A melody popped into her head—one her mother had sang to her as a child when she was ill.

Stina softly sang, trying not to feel embarrassed by her voice. You were beginning to calm, your hands dropping from your face to her shirt, holding it close. By the time she was finished, the room was quiet, empty of your cries. You were clinging to her, your face buried in the crook of her neck as if you were ashamed of the comfort you needed.

“What was that song?” you asked, voice hoarse.

“It’s a lullaby. I can’t remember the name.”

Stina felt you nod against her skin.

She opted not to say anything further. You were exhausted, she could tell. Anything you wanted to say, you needed to volunteer.

After a few moments, she felt your grip on her shirt tighten.

“When I was nineteen, my best friend died.”

Whatever Stina had been expecting to come out of your mouth, that wasn’t it. She sucked in a breath, trying to remain unaffected. You needed her strength.

“We had been friends for years, since we were kids. And we’d gotten in this huge fight over something… uni I think. I had an offer to play professionally. I had been drinking, so had she. And I always walked her home, always, when she had been drinking. The way to her house was a bit sketchy, you know? So I figured two people were better than one if anything happened. But the things she said to me that night… I’d never been so upset in my life.”

You took a breath,

“So I refused to walk her. She didn’t press, just turned up her nose and walked away, didn’t even say goodbye. And I waited for my bus. The next morning I get a call from her mum—she’s been killed.”

Stina could barely trust herself to breathe.

“I let it happen, I’m the reason she died.”

“No—” Stina began, but you cut her off.

“When they held the funeral, I wasn’t allowed to say anything. I wasn’t allowed anywhere but the very back of the church, because they all knew it was my fault. And still, they know it, they remind me of what happened, what I’ve done. I stole her life!”

“Stop!” Stina demanded, her face flushed with anger. You were taken aback by her passion, and quieted. “You did not steal anything, you didn’t kill her, it isn’t your fault!” She grabbed your hand as you pulled back from her.

“You lost your best friend in such a horrible way, and nobody checked in? Nobody held you?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but this time Stina silenced you.

“I want you to tell me what you mean by ‘they remind you’ of what happened.”

You refused to meet her eyes.

“It’s not good. Not for me or her… she calls me, my friend’s mom, to talk.” You hesitated, but explained the routine to your girlfriend when she fixed you with a look.

“That’s…” Stina seemed at a loss for words, “you are the strongest person I know. And you rake yourself across hot coals for a crime that isn’t even yours. For a woman who wants to see you suffer, who can’t accept your healing. That isn’t right. You did not kill her. That is someone else’s burden to carry.”

You burst into tears again.

—

You must’ve fallen asleep at some point, because the next time you wake up you’re in bed, and Stina is wrapped protectively around you. Her warmth encases you; she holds you more protectively than usual, her arms shielding you from the world.

Eventually the two of you get back up, though not before Stina wraps you in a crushing embrace and lets you know she’s staying for a couple of days. No negotiating.

She makes dinner, you clean. It’s the first time you’ve eaten all day, and you think she can tell by the way she watches you intently. You feel cared for, and it’s a little overwhelming. Stina doesn’t let you out of her sight save a few trips to the bathroom and one brief call from her sister that she has to take.

You didn’t expect things to shake her up so much.

She helps you clean the wounds on your palms, grimacing at the sight of them once you unfurl your fingers for her. You try to tell her you can deal with them yourself—especially with how much it seems to upset her—but she isn't having it. You see her set her brow and concentrate on cleaning and bandaging the damaged skin, tears only glazing her eyes as you hiss in pain.

Eventually you convince her that you're fine enough to settle down on the couch and watch a movie. She insists on having you in her lap—something that you find equally as comforting. Stina isn't typically all that tactile, but now each moment apart from you seems to worry her.

You're about halfway into the film and slowly drifting off into her chest when you feel her whisper something into your skin. You think she assumes you're asleep (and you nearly are) but you make out her voice slightly.

"Tack Gud att du är här." She repeats it, and soon you can feel the drops of her tears hitting your shoulder.

"Stina…" you whisper, repositioning yourself to face her.

"förlåt" she says, wiping her eyes.

"You don't have to be sorry… It was an intense day." You press a kiss to her cheek.

"I was so worried," Stina starts, and you figure it's best not to interrupt her, "when Katie said that you might be struggling, I couldn't think of anything else. You can't hurt yourself anymore, please." Stina takes your bandaged hand.

"If you were gone one day, I don't know how I'd cope."

"You don't have to worry about that, ever."

"You are the most important thing in my life." Stina's lip trembles, and you wonder how you're managing to keep it together.

You pull her into another kiss, lips sore from how you had abused them earlier. The pain reminds you of the struggle of the day, but Stina's hand holds the depths in front of you at bay.

"I'll always be here." She promises.

You begin to think of something lighter. Of an ounce of forgiveness. Of a year that does not revolve around the rising and setting of the sun on this one day. A moment of peace afforded to yourself. The thought passes your mind—you do not deserve this. You instead think of love.

#woso x reader #stina blackstenius x reader #stina blackstenius imagine #woso imagine #woso fanfics #stina blackstenius #woso #woso community #arsenal x reader #swewnt x reader #my writing #i hope this satisfies some of the stina girls #and happy new year (belated lol)

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wxnheart · 1 year ago

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On today's episode of My Simpin' Ass Friend Asks Horny Ass Questions, we're gonna talk about the post-coital tendencies and rituals of your faves. Smanging it, babes.

Capt. John Price - The old man's got it. Will always have it. Baby, he put it down and we love it for you; you always bask in the afterglow laying on top of Price, your head buried in the crook of his neck or on his chest, breathing in his scent. If it's the former, trust that he'll have a huge 'thank-you' hickey to show the world the next day.

Gaz - An awesome round of sex is usually followed by a nice, hot shower when you're with Gaz. You two are bathing each other and exchanging kisses. You'll retire to bed sated and squeaky clean. Not for long, though.

Ghost - Simon has to have his post-coital cigarette. Just coming down from that high, staring at the ceiling. Or some shit like that. Really, you two are just vibing in quiet contentment after he dicks you down something fierce. You also found out that if he has a particularly powerful orgasm, he'll chuckle uncontrollably. It's pretty deep and rich. It's just as endearing as it is surprising to you.

Soap - Your resident golden retriever gets the munchies after sex so he always has takeout on speed dial. Sex and some good food afterward? Hell yeah.

Alejandro - Loves to cover you in kisses after sex. Major cuddler energy. Loves skin-to-skin contact and cuddling because it keeps him in the present and not too worried about what comes after when he has to get out of bed and back to work. You know how to remedy that, however. Giddyup, Cowboy.

Rudy - Simply put, you make him the little spoon. Yep. Always.

König - Like Ghost, he, too, tends to laugh but it's ALWAYS after he has sex. And it's more like a giggle than anything. It's a mixture of endorphins and the idea that he actually has sex. Yes, König, you actually fuck. The first time you heard it, he was so mortified that if he could become one with the covers, he would. You thought it so adorable and now you two have giggle fits interspersed with kisses as you're curled together in bed.

Horangi - Lmao. By post-coital routine, you mean more sex, right?

Graves - He's an interesting fellow. Likes the feel of the air on his body as he basks in the after-sex glow which is why he's in no hurry to cover up. Usually hits you with a one-liner like "Tired so soon, darlin'?" with a smirk and wink. He'll give you time to get some water and cool down. Just say the word and it's on to round two, baby.

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nanaminsmoon · 1 year ago

Text

𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫!𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

a/n: this has just been sat in the vaults for a month and i'm just in eren brainrot mode rn so here she is😁 also, i just imagined rapper!eren being like central cee. so just imagine him wearing a nike tech in every interaction lol.

cw: fingering, pnv, infidelity, mentions of breeding, finger sucking, eren calls reader; 'ma', 'my girl', 'baby', and i don't cosign homewrecking be respectful y'all😭

cw: 4590...

rapper!eren who tells you it was never meant to go this far, because it truly wasn't. it all started because you had similar music taste, so you understood the influence of his favourite artists (which happened to be your favourite artists) on his music.

you first met rapper! eren when you bumped into one another at the record store. he was a popular up and coming artist, so you somewhat recognised him but you couldn't pinpoint where from. you had been in the same section of the shop and he liked your outfit, thought you had great taste and, when you turned around, he saw that you were bad. so he sparked up a conversation with you. he was used to people pretending they didn’t know who he was just to get into his inner circle but, upon further conversation, he could tell that you really barely had any idea who he was. and, initially, that was a punch to his ego (because damn his music isn’t reaching baddies like that??), but he just decided it was for the best.

rapper!eren who called you after you gave him your number, which you found quite interesting because you barely knew each other and he was calling you before even texting you?? but you answered, and conversations about anything and everything meant that when you looked up from the doodle you had been focused on while talking to him, the small clock hand had moved forwards three numbers. saying you were ‘surprised’ by his depth makes it seem as though you expected him to be an idiot, but you were just taken aback by the way that every other word he said to you was an echo of the thoughts you had never gotten the chance to shout out into the world.

rapper!eren whose words had your cheeks heating up as they begun to ache from smiling at his flirtatious tone. honeyed syllables flowed into your ears, only just to run back out, slowly caressing your skin on its way down to the space between your legs. though not necessarily obscene, rapper!eren‘s words dirtied the scenes running in your mind, painting a packed gallery of lude images you wanted him to paint all over your body.

“did you just giggle?”, he chuckled over the phone, and you shook your head furiously as if he could see you.

“what? no!”, you sat up on your bed, the defence on your features evident to both you and the walls surrounding you. he wasn’t wrong, you did giggle. but you wouldn’t let him hear that admission. it felt slightly ridiculous, because you had only known him for a few weeks, but whenever you saw the name ’eren<;3’ appear on your phone, the muscle between your ribs would begin a high intensity workout. the effects manifesting themselves in the endorphins flying through your body, and the way he just made you feel…giddy.

calls started off as being once every few days. then it was once a day. then his name was painting your phone screen twice a day. then it became a few times a day; he would call you when he woke up, and you would try your best to not lose it over his morning voice, especially when he said shit like:

”i wish i could see you right now, i feel like you look cute in the morning. nah? i don’t believe that”.

you would call him on your commute, then you’d eat dinner together over facetime. then, once the sun set, every step in your night-time routine would be interrupted by rapper!eren’s inquisitons about literally everything: ”what’s that for?”, ”what does that do?”, ”your skin is perfect you don’t need all that.” and, soon, the texts began sprinkling themselves in between those calls; ’good morning’ texts, ’how’s your day goin?’ texts, ’show me your fit’ texts, ’facetime?’ texts, and ’you got time to call?’ texts.

then two, or so, months passed and you came to find out why the beginning of your relationship was mainly just calls: so it couldn’t be traced back to him. though he had your contact saved, he could always just delete your call logs, and you would have no way of proving that you actually spoke. this revelation struck you shortly after a tiktok came up on your foryoupage showing someone talking about rapper!eren and his rumoured girlfriend. said ‘rumoured’ girlfriend who really just looked like his actual girlfriend with the way his arm was slung around her shoulder, her hand reaching up to hold his, as he nuzzled his nose against her cheek. as soon as rapper!eren noticed the cameras, he peeled himself off of her and put his hands in his joggers. and, as pissed as you were, you could admit that the girl was cute; standing shorter than him, with short brown hair.

rapper!eren whose eyebrows met to screw in frustration at his calls and texts going unanswered. a part of him grew unreasonably pissed off when he kept calling you and kept getting sent to voicemail. at first, he assumed you were just busy so he just postponed his call because he knew what time you usually ate dinner, meaning he knew when you usually called him. but to make sure you weren’t still busy, he texted you and again, it was just ‘read’.

“what the fuck?”, he whispered at his phone screen as he sat in the back of the black suv. no matter what he tried, rapper!eren got no response and he didn’t know why that cut him so deep. he was inured to female attention so your replacement was nothing more than a dm away. but…he didn’t want to replace you. talking to you had become so pivotal to his day-to-day routine and he didn’t like that being taken away from him without him having a say. but after three days of dodging his calls, you finally texted him.

…: you have a gf?

rapper!eren: thats what this shit was about y/n?

…: this shit?? nigga you have a girlfriend tf you mean this shit??

rapper!eren: its more complicated than that

…: is it???

…: she’s either your gf or she isn’t how’s that complicated?

rapper!eren: dw abt it

rapper!eren: come to my studio tonite. got smth i wanna run by you

…: huh??

read.

rapper!eren who finally responded a few hours after that conversation. but, instead of the explanation you were looking for, you got sent an address and a message telling you that someone was on their way to come pick you up. you quickly texted rapper!eren your address, then you had just half an hour to get ready. had this been a week ago, you would’ve done a bit more; matching underwear and all. but instead, you just decided to keep it cute but simple—both your outfit, and your makeup.

you got a text telling you to make your way outside and when you did, you were met with a black suv with tinted windows. as weird as it looked, the driver asking for your name reassured you and you got in. the drive to the address was silent. it was just you and the driver in there, and he didn’t even spare you a glance once you got in the car, so you were just left with your thoughts. and they made it a very gruelling 30 minute journey. once you arrived at the building, the driver took you to the door, where you were met with rapper!eren‘s manager. that’s when you found out that the building was where rapper!eren‘s studio was.

rapper!eren who sat alone behind a translucent door, looking down at his phone until his manager opened the door. you hadn’t seen him in person since the first time you met and, knowing what you now knew, your heart was at the pit of your stomach. so your first few moments there were spent stood, abashedly, at the door. an unreadable smirk braced his face at your appearance, before he made his way to hug you. being polite, you hugged him back. and those nasty wasps in your stomach were mixing with butterflies. you hated it to say it, but you were attracted to rapper!eren and the strong smell of his aftershave was enough to drive the butterflies in your stomach to migrate to the space between your legs. but, at some point, their wings would be clipped by the fact that the man had a girlfriend.

rapper!eren who noticed you looking a little skittish, and moved to stroke your arm to calm you down but you just looked at him blankly so he moved away. the weird feeling in your stomach had yet to go away, and it only grew once you looked around and saw that the only lights on were red LED lights, and a few candles placed on random tables.

“you drink?”, rapper! eren picked up a bottle of expensive looking red wine and two big wine glasses.

“not with men who have girlfriends, no.”, you quipped, taking your hoodie off, and putting it on the sofa.

rapper! eren who really did call you there to ask you about something because he had made a new song, and he wanted to see how you liked it. no one else knew what his vision was but, having similar music taste, he knew you would. but the second your hoodie came off, his intentions wavered. at that very moment, he could feel the very thing he had been trying to bury for the past few days, making his dick twitch in his joggers. making it infinitely harder to ignore—if he even wanted to do that anymore.

rapper! eren whose eyes glimmered at the sight of you thoroughly enjoying his song, even giving him real feedback that he knew would make the song better. you were sat by his laptop and the way your knees would touch whenever you moved to the beat did not go neglected. despite your prior apprehensions, he had poured you both some red wine, and you were slowly making your way through your glasses. mid-conversation, he caught you staring at his chains. especially the pendant with his name on it; bussed down and twinkling even under the minimal lighting.

“you like ‘em?”, he looked down at his chest, smirking, and you nodded at him.

“are they heavy?”, you giggled. that chain was thick but the pendant on it looked like it had some weight on it too.

rapper! eren‘s answer wasn’t verbal, instead he just reached behind his neck and took it off, holding it toward you,

“try it on”, he said, quietly and you shook your head. the man had a girlfriend why was he drinking with you, and asking you to put his chain on??

“nah, bro, that’s too far. you’ve got a gir—”, you began, and rapper! eren rolled his eyes as he got up from his chair,

“first off, she’s not here. second, don’t call me ‘bro’. that’s what my boys call me.”, he stood, looking down at you, obviously waiting for you to stand up. your guilt only grew, to subside again, as you got up. and then he stepped closer. you were sat pretty close before, but now the tips of your shoes were meeting. then he leaned forward and reached behind you to put his chain on you. once it hung around your neck, you got the answer to your question; it was heavy.

lost in observation, you hadn’t even realised the way rapper! eren‘s hands hadn’t left your body, they had just changed locations. they moved from the back of your neck, to your cheeks where he held you to face him. fuck. this man was fine. yes, you felt bad but she was purring. you didn’t know his girl so what loyalties did you have to her? and plus, who are you to judge other people’s relationships? maybe she’s okay with him cheating…

you knew damn well you were just being selfish, but that didn’t stop you from moaning into rapper! eren‘s mouth once his lips collided with yours. the way the baby, blue shimmer of the diamonds bounced off the gloss on your lips made them impossible to ignore. they were just asking for rapper! eren to mess them up, and replace the sheen with the one provided by his saliva. this wasn’t the first time he had cheated on his girlfriend; he was surrounded by beautiful women who wanted him every single day, and he had the self control of a dog who hadn’t been fed in weeks. but this time felt like more than just kissing, rapper! eren didn’t want anyone else to have you. and he hadn’t realised that until he saw you with his name shining around your neck.

the slow, fervent kiss grew haste when rapper! eren‘s hands started moving to grip anything he could through your dress. soon, you were straddling him on the black leather sofa, slowly grinding on him as he pushed you down onto the tent forming in his grey nike tech. naturally, your dress began to hike up your body, and rapper! eren aided its trek by pulling it up so the end of the dress was lightly pecking the top of your black lace thong. it was at this point that rapper! eren knew that there was no going back for him; if he didn’t fuck you now, he would be dreaming about it until he did.

his lips did not leave you once—moving from your own to your cheeks, jaw, neck, chest. his hand laid on your clothed tit, the other being pulled out from under your dress, and quickly covered by his swollen pink lips. the way his tongue swirled around your nipple had you throwing your head back, your hips not stopping once. veins that once transported blood became the primary vehicle for the pleasure he was providing you, you hadn’t even noticed his hand moving to the space between your legs. slipping your thong aside, he began rubbing circles on your clit.

“’ren, p-please”, you whined, breathlessly. thoughts weren’t connecting properly anymore, so you didn’t even know what you were pleading for. you just felt the need to say something.

“w-wait, please”, you breathed out, and he hummed against whatever skin he was kissing at that point, you really didn’t know anymore. your entire body was on fire, so it all just felt like one big sensation.

“i am waiting, ma”, rapper! eren cooed, “there’s a lot more i wanna be doing right now.”, he nipped your other breast that he had alternated to at some point, and you knew he would leave a mark. and that’s exactly what he wanted.

a few minutes passed before rapper! eren inserted his middle and ring finger inside you. shivers ran a marathon all over your body as his bussed down star ring grazed your thigh, while he pumped his tattooed digits in and out of you. all the while, rapper! eren‘s eyes never left your face; the glistering jades illuminated every feature on you—your moistened pert nipples, your bleary gaze, and your parted lips. your drool mixing with his saliva still on them.

it didn’t take long for you to cum all over his fingers, trembling and cantillating his name into the space around the both of you. no part of your body could handle that wave once it washed over you, the tide pulling your forehead onto his chest, that was heaving almost as deeply as yours was. you hadn’t done much, but rapper! eren was so turned on by the fact that he was making you feel good. but even knowing that, his fingers didn’t relent.

once you were able to lift your heavy eyelids, and open your eyes, you saw a space grey patch on rapper! eren ‘s light grey tech, and that aroused a small panic in your stomach.

“’ren, s-stop”, you began, and as soon as that word left your mouth, his fingers stilled. a billion thoughts raced through his mind; maybe you’d changed your mind, maybe it didn’t feel good anymore. but when he found out that it was just because you didn’t want to get his tech wet, he chortled at how cute you were, and stroked your teary cheek with the hand that wasn’t pumping in and out of you again.

“you think i care if people know how wet my girl gets when she’s with me?”, he spoke onto the skin on your neck. fuck. you hated how good it felt to be called that, but you couldn’t stop the way you clenched around his fingers at that nickname. the same nickname that belonged to another woman.

“you like that? me calling you ‘my girl’?”, rapper! eren teased, lifting your chin when you tried to evade eye contact, “you want me to fuck you with my chain ‘round your neck? make you mine for real?”, his hand was wrapped around the top of your neck to hold your chin in place, and you just nodded furiously. fighting your need for him was futile, so you would give in now and regret this later.

confirmation received, rapper! eren picked you up and placed you on the sofa on your back, lips still glued on your neck. it wasn’t until he paused momentarily to take off his hoodie and shirt that you realised where things were going and panic returned. you placed your manicured fingers flat on his chest, providing a bit of resistance as your head shook slightly. but you didn’t say anything, simply hoping the look in your eyes would communicate everything your mouth couldn’t.

“your girlfriend”, you spoke, voice barely above a whisper. and rapper! eren moved closer to your face, meeting your lips. then he spoke against them,

“tell me you don’t want this, and i’ll stop”, he told you sincerely and you stammered, words failing you once again. or, really, you failing yourself because there were no words you could string together to hide the way you wanted needed this man to fuck you until you started crying. you’d heard the stories, you’d heard the song lyrics, and there was no smoke without fire. so you wrapped yourself up in a fire blanket and walked straight into the blazing heat. you shook your head at him, and reached for the bulge poking you in your stomach. and he smiled down at you before kissing you again and pulling back to get condoms from a drawer next to the sofa.

rapper!eren whose mind could barely grasp the concept of anything that wasn’t how tight you would feel around him. at this point in time, he didn’t know where he was anymore, nor did he care. the faint sounds of people talking in the hallways outside his studio were hushed static compared to the soft whines escaping your lips. you were desperate; this man had thrown a lasso around you, pulled you into his orbit, and then was just tangling you in front of himself. almost as if he was teasing himself—placing you in front of his face, legs wide open, yet not doing anything to close the faucet responsible for his leaking, throbbing, pink tip. but only rapper!eren knew that the reason for his eyes sprinting across your body, unbothered by the finish line, was because he didn’t know where to start with you. he had stripped you of your dress; he didn’t plan on doing so originally, but he needed to see your tits bounce as he fucked you so it had to come off. but now that you were whining underneath him—spit sliding down the corners of your mouth, making its way down onto the sides of your neck as you sucked on his tatted fingers, eyes locked with his own, he didn’t know what to do with you. your eyes had rendered him paralysed; yes, he may have been on top of you, but you were in control. He was on his knees for you, literally! he was on his knees on the sofa, with his legs caging one of your own.

rapper!eren who, as mesmerised as he was, remembered that he couldn’t just gawk at you forever so he positioned himself at your entrance. looking at you before he put it in, he saw a smirk painted on your face,

“nervous?”, you teased, and he scoffed at you. all it took was for his tip to softly poke your entrance, for you to cry out his name. if he was in his right mind, he might’ve given you shit for how quickly you were eating your own words. but all he could think about was how he hadn’t even done anything and you were already falling apart underneath him.

“fuck.”, he breathed out as he looked at his dick, still visible between your legs.

rapper!eren was a very sought after man, women wanting him did not surprise him. but you moaned his name like you needed him. like you were flirting with the brink of insanity every single second his dick wasn’t deep in your guts. and, rapper!eren may have been a very unloyal man, but he was very possessive. and there was nothing he hated more than people fucking with what’s his. so he would rip you from the hands of insanity, and fuck you until the afterglow was so prominent that everyone would know to go nowhere near you.

“just wait for me, baby, yeah? I’m right here”.

rapper!eren who lets out a deep sigh as soon as he starts pushing himself inside you, his eyeballs exploring the back of their sockets when he felt how tight you were. he had been intent on watching you take him in, inch by inch (all 8 of them), as he sheathed himself into you. but how wet you were was making him delirious. it felt like you were tightening around him with every half an inch that you took of him. probably because you were. everything was hitting you all at once, and your body was just reacting without even consolting you. it was how sexy he was, the sound of his heavy breathing, low moans hitting your ear. bitch it felt like you were doing the damn tiktok kegel exercises.

from what you had barely seen earlier through your drenched eyelashes, you knew that there would be a lot of rapper!eren to take in. but it seemed like the man was just never ending. when you thought he was fully inside you, he would push some more and you would feel yourself stretch around him. it wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, just a lot to get used to. so your arms were reaching across his back, scratching slightly as he bottomed out inside of you.

deep sighs and whiny protests soon became blissful incantations of pleasure leaving your lips to hit rapper!eren‘s bare shoulder. his tatted fingers were digging into the fat surrounding your hips, waist, anything he could reach. not too long after you two began fucking, his manager had opened the door to ask if he was ready to go. but, when he opened the door to the soundproof studio and saw you two fucking on the sofa, he figured rapper!eren had some loose ends to tie up before he left to go to his hotel. neither of you had noticed because you were too busy focusing on the sweet words leaving this man’s mouth, as well as his chains hitting your skin. no soul would’ve guessed that this man’s pen game was crazy with the fucked out nonsense he was spewing on whatever skin he was kissing at the time.

”imma fuck you so good nobody’s gonna be good enough f’r you. hm? you want that? fuck, if I wasn’t so stupid(?) i’d fuck a baby in you. i promise you. this pussy’s so fucking tight, i don’t even care anymore. i got money, i could take care of a kid. you wan’ it? you wan’ me to just get you pregnant? let everyone call you my baby mama? you’re a slut you know that, yeah? just wan’ my nut leaking outta you? fuck, y/n, you’re gonna get me in trouble.”

rapper!eren whose fingers teased your clit, slow and gentle as if he wasn’t pounding into you with reckless abandon on some small sofa in his studio. but the few seconds that those two fingers sped up on your little bud of nerves were enough to have you drenching his lower abdomen, and fingers. too lost in the moment, he had forgotten to taste you earlier, so he put his fingers in his mouth and he rolled his tongue around them. the taste of you in his mouth dropped his eyelids, his hips moving faster and faster as your arousal coated his tastebuds.

rapper!eren who couldn’t remember the last time he was that turned on by anyone. his hips were moving on their own, rushing to get that release. he wanted to hold it, because he wanted to give you round after round after round and he wanted you to cum, at least, one more time before he did so himself. if it were up to him, he would pick you up and take you into the booth and fuck you in there so he could get some adlibs for his next song. but he just couldn’t do it.

“i’ll—fuck—i’ll make it up to you. i swe—shit”, he quickly pulled out of you, and scrambled to take his condom off. his hand managed one stroke on his dick before his nut spurted all over your chest, specks finding themselves on your chin. before the last droplets of his release dripped onto your stomach.

once he finished, rapper!eren pulled back and, as his eyes regained focus, he was just mesmerised by you. eyes barely opening, bodily fluids all over you, but his chain remained proud at the centre of your chest. he had to take his phone out and take a few pictures of you just like that. spurts of his cum acted as an adhesive, sticking his name onto your heart. yeah, he wasn’t letting you go now. he didn’t know how to feel about the cum splattered on his chain, but he just settled on getting a new one and just letting you keep that one. how he would explain that to his girlfriend, he had no fucking clue but he would figure something out…

after he took you to a hotel suite and made up for nutting quicker than he had hoped…by fucking you senseless:))

#nanaminsmooninc #aot x black reader #aot x black y/n #eren x black reader #eren x black fem!reader #eren smut #rapper!eren #aot eren

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