#how the fuck can you not SEE IT RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU

[imsofreakingtired]

what if you and Sevika had a lesbian situationship divorce and she goes on a shimmer bender crashout

content warnings: blood, violence, self-destructive thoughts, uhmm chaotic angst

like she just doesn’t stop using it. she has a belt full of Shimmer cartridges and uses three at a time whether she’s fighting or just needs a kick, an escape.  

uses it even when she goes to the brothel and just picks any girl who looks remotely like you. she sees you in the sky, hears your voice echo through the streets, feels your hands on her skin when she’s in the gardens, thinks if she closes her eyes she can almost believe the girl she’s with is actually you. calls out your name huskily when she comes. hates herself for it but can’t stop the cycle. and she always fucks on Shimmer, rushing through her veins. making everything dizzy and hot.

she does it even more because she remembers how you always scolded her for using Shimmer, saying it would eventually destroy her. a part of her wants to destroy herself for leaving you. a part of her hopes you’ll save her before she does. 

one night she gets caught up in a street fight and takes on like ten muggers at once. they have knives and masks and want her Shimmer supply, she laughs with the freedom of a woman who has lost all hope. last thing she remembers is thinking, “oh, baby’s not gonna like this.”

you hear a bang on your door in the middle of the night and you jump out of your half-sleep, a knife in your hand. you’re so sure the enforcers finally found you and you know you’re not going down without a fight. you open the door, gripping the blade so tight your palm aches. but there are no enforcers. it’s just Ran, their eyes wide and desperate. they’re propping up a lifeless figure, knees nearly buckling under the weight. Sevika. 

your first thought: Oh Janna. I’ve lost her. 

the knife falls to the floor with a clatter. you open the door wide enough to let Ran in, more dragging Sevika than walking her. you cast a swift look up and down the street to make sure they had no unwanted company following them, then you shut the door firmly and run over to help Ran prop Sevika in a chair. 

“I was gonna take her to Singed,” Ran explains. “but do you know what she said? ‘fuck Singed. i’m not going to Singed.” 

Ran looks at you. “she told me to take her to you, or let her bleed out in the street.” 

you fall to your knees in front of Sevika, and you try to keep your hands from shaking as you inspect her. she’s in bad shape. her mech arm is broken and shimmer leaks out from its wires onto the floor. her shirt is torn and bloody. her face is darkened with bruises and blood, but even in this state you’re confident that whatever she did to the goons that attacked her was ten times worse. 

she stirs awake, half-conscious. grey eyes look up at you in a haze. you wish she hadn’t. you wish she just stayed unconscious. because now that she’s giving you those eyes you can’t even remember why you were angry, you can’t even remember the emotion itself. 

you want to cling to even the memory of being angry at her, just so you don’t fall apart looking at her like this. 

“help me move her to the bed,” you tell Ran, and together you prop Sevika up again and lay her down on your bed. you barely notice the Shimmer staining your clothes, all you can see is the shallow rise and fall of her chest. 

“i can take it from here,” you tell Ran. “thanks.” 

“just…keep her alive.” 

when Ran is gone, you set to work cleaning the wounds. the cuts aren’t as deep as you feared, only one - a gash across her right forearm -  needing stitches. Sevika stirs and groans just as you finish dressing the cuts. she mutters something. you lean in close and hear her whispering your name.

“i gotta tell her…” Sevika trails off. “i gotta tell her i’m sorry.” 

something fails in your heart when you hear this. you smooth her hair out of her eyes and kiss her forehead. 

“i’m right here, you idiot.” 

Sevika’s eyes open and rest on your face. and you’re thinking fuck, fuck. whatever she did or said to hurt you didn’t come close to the sharp pain of seeing her expression relax, her eyes soften with relief. you take her face in your hands, rubbing her cheek with your thumb. 

“i’m sorry, too.”

[syoddeye]

What if Simon goes back fo rhis card, but she won't give it back unless he tries again?

prev. next.

"sound it out, big fella."

simon huffs and glares at the barback in the corner of his eye. the man's pretending not to listen, working a damp cloth over a two-top that's already shining.

the place isn't even open yet. the door's propped ajar with a brick, and it's hours before service starts. he came early on purpose, figuring he could grab his card and go. maybe avoid this exact interaction. but no. here you are, dangling it in front of him.

he could take it. just lean over the counter, swipe it out of your hand, maybe get a handful of your hip and a squeeze in the process. but no, you had to go and get cute about it.

"'and it over."

"nice try. you know i mean whatever line you were going to feed me the other night."

"wasn't gonna feed you a line."

"no? then what the fuck was that? a disappearing act?" you lean forward on the counter, elbows resting on the wood, fists tucked under your chin. it makes you look pixieish, face tilted up, playing at innocence, but the glint in your eyes says otherwise. you're enjoying this. "performance anxiety?"

a lick of heat lashes over the back of his neck and curls around his throat until he swallows. "slip of the tongue."

your mouth takes on a shape he'd find annoying on any other face. you tilt your head, and he swears he can almost see a spade tail swishing behind you.

"right. so then what was the plan?"

"there was no plan."

"mm," you hum, skeptical, dragging it out. "and that's why you've sat closer each time you come in? that wasn't you working up the nerve?"

he could lock a single hand around both of your wrists, hoist them above your head, reclaim his card, and get a good long look down your top. easily. he must harbor some kind of masochistic streak to keep talking. it grinds his teeth.

"no, and you're gettin' on my last nerve—"

"i bet i am," you cut in, cheerful and unbothered. "so why don't i make this easier for everyone, and…"

you pull back, then rise onto your toes, leaning over the bar to reach him. he watches, fingers twitching, as you slide the card into the front pocket of his shirt and pat it twice.

"there's a note taped to the back," you smile, wicked and triumphant. "my number. call it. unless you'd like to run for it again."

simon remains frozen for a beat, your hand lingering just long enough to burn its shape into his chest. his jaw flexes, gears gumming up in his head.

you pull back, light on your feet like you haven't just tucked a grenade into his shirt. that teasing gleam in your eyes, daring, like you're so sure he won't do something. a baited hook, glaring and obvious, as if you don't care he's big enough to snap the line.

he exhales hard through his nose. "you're a pain in the arse."

you grin, wide and unrepentant, backing away with your hands in your apron. "you'll get over it. or not. but you'll call me first."

he watches you retreat through the door to the back, disappearing before he can think of anything clever to say. his mind wiped. instead, he stands there, stuck.

the barback clears his throat, breaking the silence with a nervous chuckle. "she got you, mate."

simon cuts him a look harsh enough to make the man flinch, but he doesn't say a word. he turns on his heel and strides out, letting the door slam against the brick.

later, in the quiet of his flat, he studies the note like it might combust. he twists the corner, staring hard at your name and number. been ages since he got one. longer since he called a bird up.

he doesn't care. shouldn't care. but you've got an attitude, quick and cutting. poking the bear, prodding the bull. testing to see how far he'll let you go. mouthy.

he wants to see what you can do with it.

[tapenbreak]

𖦹. “𝐏𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄, 𝐖𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔?” — (𝐒𝐘𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐘)

𖦹. — 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. as they say, every innocent church boy has once been fucked by their cute friend in a bustling cafe, at least once—right? or something along the lines of that. 8.4k words. (unplanned.)

𖦹. — 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 . . . purest of people, male sydney who so stupidly thought this was merely meant to be a study session, dubious consent that slowly morphs into full-on yearning, established friendship, cock sucking, fingering, anal fucking all in the holiest of pretext to teach, manipulative, model student, male reader (amab) that really just means well, yeah. least, sydney thinks so while being bent in half.

𖦹. — 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬, doc?: “I think he was cute to begin with, but then he patted at his belly spouting some shit about how ‘warm’ it was after my pc shot his load inside and I’ve never needed anything more than to bend some bitch over in the cathedral they pray to.”

Although it may have been unfortunately irritating to some, actually, more like many, really—he’s always truthfully prided himself for his unwavering professionalism and unmatched dedication when it came to school itself. More notably, his unending studies that seemingly only keep on piling up like an intimidating mountain never meant to be ultimately finished.

Or perhaps, what he’s naturally grown more accustomed to for having blindly pursued it for the entire span of his youthful, blossoming life; the Temple’s dictating principles—the questionable need and obligation to importantly preserve his untainted being, virginity, to be more precise. Dutifully stray himself further from the tempting sin that is, well. . . the numerous activities of life itself, most of which his peers mindlessly participate in themselves. As though they could hope to pitifully understand the church boy’s stifling path towards the underlying answers he continuously seeks, strives forward in an unnerved will to earnestly discover.

See, there’s undeniably no need to try and somehow explain the sheer amount of efforts Sydney irrefutably puts in to eventually achieve his long-term goals, correct?

At least, he’s positively and oh, so naively thought so up till now. Ah, brother Jordan’s perpetually warned him of others that may possibly lead him astray, whether intentionally so or not. Stray, golden, strawberry blonde strand of hair delicately placed behind the curved tip of his heated ear, well-preserved lips discreetly pursued inwards into a thinly veiled frown because honestly—he’s confidently speculated of you as otherwise, hm. And weren’t you supposedly meant to be his sole salvation of sparkling light and reprieve from that terrible and horribly selfish town you both regrettably reside in?

Which, couldn’t be more wrong for that matter—could he? Foolishly and frustratingly so, all too trusting that he can sometimes be. Consistently mindful of the potential threats that lay at bay, promising utter defilement if given the chance to swiftly sink their claws and pearly canines in the tender flesh of the boy’s untouched being.

Particularly, not this time it seems—not with your overly distracting presence perfectly positioned in front of his calmly seated own.

If it were anyone else, certainly they would’ve predictably seen this coming way before he has so, but pristine innocence itself—has always been the initiate’s first and foremost, silly shortcoming, hasn’t it? Oh, pointlessly stupid, Sydney. . . It’s inherently your fault for happily sticking along to the deceptively beautiful place that is, the starving tiger’s drooling maw, yeah?

So, really—it’s merely natural for it to have somehow derailed the way it did. An absently made lie to falsely convince himself of such, that he’s indeed above the rest of this sickeningly pervasive town in return, isn’t he? Right??

Unlikely. For as the all too well-known saying allegedly goes; the excessively ambitious bird unreasonably flew close towards the infinitely scorching sun, right?

Hah—

“. . .What are you doing?” Curiously peering upwards from the neatly laid and spread sheets of papers he’s meticulously sorted atop the creaking, wooden table. Almost faltering in the instinctual, heated sigh that’s bound to solemnly come out of his usually quiet mouth as his shimmering gaze automatically locks with your. . . annoyingly bored one, apparently. Since, what’s the exact point to be pleasantly inquiring him with the delightful idea to silently study together in some bustling cafe stationed nearby if you, yourself—won’t even tentatively participate in your aforementioned suggestion, huh??

“Studying.” Poorly fabricated falsehood at most, he can effortlessly see through that. Straying eyes sluggishly evading his as if to secretly rid yourself from some misplaced guilt incessantly residing within your thudding chest. Though, swiftly recovering with a quipped, cheeky retort of your own soon after—as it is so expectantly common of you to do, yet still. . . can’t truly bring himself to be sincerely annoyed by that endearing antic of yours. “—and modestly admiring the view in front of me. I can’t do that?”

Hmph, that sole and insignificant compliment shouldn’t have suddenly brought forth a crimson flush to his cheeks, beautifully painted his complexion a deeper hue for your. . . ah, so stupidly childish, cherry lips to unabashedly grin back at in muted satisfaction for his lack of response. Ahah, pretty please—do get a grip on yourself, Sydney, before he’s indecently ruined you too!

Seriously. . . For a well renowned model student collectively respected by most at the establishment you two simultaneously attend—you’re ostensibly quite the sneaky trickster on multiple occasions, aren’t you? Especially towards him for some particular reason which, he hasn’t remotely registered as to why yet. Yes, he’s been somehow oblivious to your unmistakably evident flirting during all this incessantly wasted time because well, that’s how he’s been continuously raised to be, despite the strikingly opposite demeanour of his other parent, Sirris.

However, fine. The religious boy might as well reluctantly grant you this momentarily acquired victory for his infuriatingly stunned silence to eventually catch up to, someday. Arrogantly emboldened by that mind muddling smile you oh, so proudly wear amongst your enraptured features—further pushed towards the edge by the reasonable expectation that he’s bound to similarly allow you to selfishly step all over him as so many others do, but no. . . Not today, considering the weighted amount of importance he relentlessly dedicates to maintaining nearly perfect grades amidst his plentiful classes.

Merely an exception made for that one tiring, swimming course however, as athleticism and specifically, raw stamina has unluckily never been his main strong suit. Truly no need to embarrassingly reminisce upon the various moments he’s nearly drowned in the incessant, violent waves of water within the limited pool, helplessly fought for his life in that surely. . . dangerous area. At least, he nearly thinks of it so—unless, some other snickering students were the guilty culprits responsible of disrespectfully splashing loads of liquid in his unfortunate direction? Oh, that too.

Though, that harmless treatment seemingly ceased altogether the second you consequently stepped into his previously mundane life. Huh. An enigma, indeed. Must be what gaining a friend in your reclusive bubble similarly does, probably. Yes, probably. Unbeknownst to the agitated huffs and shrill shrieks delinquents ultimately make at the sheer sight of your figure constantly sticking to his blissfully ignorant side, y’know—like a true, amiable friend does, right?

“You said we’d only be coming here to study, but all you’ve been doing for the past hour is just. . . staring at me! Do I have something on my face? Is that it?? Or is it—really, really that amusing to poke fun at me, huh??” Stubbornly settled upon the illogical fact that this is unquestionably a ploy methodically thought out by yours truly, objectively intended to spur him in a state of constant nervousness and mumbling bashfulness around you. Well, that is to say, he’s not sparingly letting you off the hook this time, no!

Conclusively blind to the sudden thump! he’s sorely responsible for by—of course, hastily slamming the dusty cover of his used, worn book downwards, fiercely landing itself against the furniture’s now disorganized surface. And there he inevitably goes as per expected, apprehensively jumping in fright to his own undoing with a clumsy huff. Immediate jolt coursing throughout the entirety of his curved spine upwards before finally, nearly losing balance of his glassed frames delicately placed atop the curvature of his pointed nose.

Oh. Maybe he’s—uncontrollably lost his cool there, huh. Talk about being humiliatingly disruptive in an otherwise, intimately tranquil space solely reserved for relaxing and such. Fortunately, it seems you’ve mainly reserved a private space firstly for that, having feasibly anticipated that sudden, usually concealed temper of his.

“Ah. . . Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so loud. I’m just slightly confused and frustrated at the same time because you said you’d—we’d study together for once, and I was looking forward to it, you know?” Ultimately deciding upon awkwardly easing the persistent prickle within the all-too delicate curve of his bobbing throat or, is it his ears, maybe? Forsaken by how sheer embarrassment comes to muddle his aimless apologies, strains his well-placed, intentional words in a desperate attempt at making you understand that first and foremost—he genuinely cherishes the preciously made, quality time you both simultaneously spend together. No matter how futile or short-lived it may be in the face of. . . unavoidable external factors like the distinctly noisy school bell, yet there’s no such rule when it comes to that, especially outside of the school’s limited bounds.

Although, evidently—he only intends for that to be solely interpreted as a friend namely would because certainly. . . the insistent butterflies that wildly flutter within the depths of his tensed tummy, has his thumping heartbeat hurriedly beating against the cage of the flustered boy’s chest is—something most friends frequently experience when the other is decisively near, yes?

. . .Certainly so. There’d be no other explicit reason as to why—the initial shock at his spurred reaction is soon dampened by a slight snicker from your cunning mouth. My, do you actually find the irritated pout presently adorning his puckered lips all that funny, too?

“You have a lot to say on the matter, I see. It’s true, I did make you come here to study with me—but, don’t you think your way of studying is pretty inefficient, Syd?” Purely uninterested in whatever recent remarks he’s made up till and, oh my god—do you ever faithfully listen to him or merely play coy with the poor, naive initiates to your hearts content? Incidentally irked at how a hint of curiosity tentatively peeks forward at your unforeseen commentary, has his nose scrunched upwards in utter bewilderment.

Inefficient? Him?? To say, he’s notoriously prided himself on swiftly achieving far more of the Temple’s various duties and additionally, more than a few unmotivated members that garner no interest towards the establishment’s dedicated ambition. Unsurprisingly so, preferring to sluggishly dust at some messied rooms laid askew, here and there—which, largely ends in one carelessly dozing atop the tousled beds, even going so far as to set the unused broom aside like it’s particularly nothing!

“M-Me?? You think my method of studying is inefficient? How so? What’s unfulfilling about it?” Overwhelmingly astonished, perhaps more taken aback as to why you might necessarily think so considering his sticking-to-the-books methods he habitually executes with thought out grace. Still, can’t stubbornly deflect such a statement if the model student himself is the one lamentably pointing that out. . . .Is he really, though?

“Hm, let’s put it this way—what’s the point of studying if the methods used aren’t efficient and doesn’t aid in easing your brain into learning, huh? Like for example, what’s your second weakest subject in school again?” Thoughtful mind earnestly coming into focus at the subtle nudge of your teasing foot provokingly pressed against his crossed one beneath the low-end table as if to. . . ahah, temporarily catch him off guard, impatiently center the focus of his working brain onto you—as if, he isn’t doing that already. Sometimes, or more like the majority of it all, you truthfully do act like a petulant child eagerly begging for its parents unwavering attention.

And that, he’ll happily give forth to you if such is needed. Solely if you wistfully promise to do the same in return, of course—fair trade and all, regardless of the inborn selflessness he proudly possesses. Properly trimmed fingertips timidly curling inwards in mild embarrassment at having to carefully admit this aloud to you, of all people, despite already consciously knowing it yourself, too.

“Well, I mean—you know what it is, it’s. . . science, I suck at science. Despite my mom’s teachings, I just can’t seem to grasp the material properly no matter how hard I study. Maybe, I’m just really bad at it.” Alright, honestly. . . that little sore admission of his, did somewhat drain whatever lingering aspirations he potentially withheld earlier in hopes of truly understanding the inexplicably difficult basis of that confusing subject. Shoulders sorrowfully slumping downwards, resembling that of a—funnily enough, dejected little puppy that’s been meanly kicked by its owner or better put, crudely denied a sweetened treat for its lacking efforts.

“But, ah—you’re pretty good at science, aren’t you? In fact, you’re my mom’s favourite! She talks about you nonstop, all the time. To the point that it gets a lil’ bit annoying, though I can’t really complain, can I? That’s just how good of a student you are, after all!” And there it comes, as endlessly expected. . . an unspoken plea for your eventual needed aid that’ll be so nicely granted in due time, since—well, that’s exactly why you’ve generously brought him here, correct?

“. . .So, is it fine if you taught me instead? I feel like I’d understand it better if it came from your mouth. Your way of explaining is more comprehensible than my mom’s weird—you know, comparisons to. . . uhm, uh. . . sex, every time.” Merely articulating that singular, oh so dreadful word causes a pronounced shiver to noticeably make its way throughout the passage of his tensed spine. Yes, yes, it’s expectantly natural to participate in these sort of activities—that he’s exceptionally informed of. Even if briefly envisioning your normally unperturbed self in those indecent situations further stokes the burning ache in his groin like no tomorrow.

God, coming forth to visit the confession booth would serve him some good right now, wouldn’t it? Enough of that, however—alternatively wishing to concentrate upon the more pressing matter at hand as he meekly regards you with irresistible, puppy doe eyes from underneath the reflective rims of his glasses. Oh, oh. Surely, you wouldn’t have the stone cold heart to selfishly refuse him of such?

“Pretty please? I’ll think of a way to repay you, I promise! Swear! We could. . . ah, even do a pinky promise if you wanna, too?” Candidly clasping his palms together with a resounding slap!—an ushered and frantic request for you to explicitly accept as though, you’re his sole remaining hope. Which sort of is the case considering his lacking amount of friends, unfortunately so.

Idiot. Haven’t your parents ultimately taught you better than to credulously place your barren trust in a deceptively attractive boy? One whose glimmering eyes shamelessly ogles at his silken skin like he were a freshly ripe, juicy peach shortly prepared—prettily available for the taking? Yours, especially.

Don’t think so.

“Sure thing, I could do that for you. What kind of friend would I be if I couldn’t, anyway?” Nodding pleasantly in return to the uttered query and to say, he admittedly didn’t expect to necessarily get this far with you when taking into account your supposed habit of—however irritating it may be, to gleefully demand some sort of payment in exchange. As to what that may conceivably entail? That, he’s thoroughly uncertain of in the worst way possible, to be fully left in the shadowed, lurking dark like this. . . But, no way you’ll likely insist upon a suggested favour for something this straightforward, huh??

“Though, you know—“ Oh, never mind! Legitimately, what did he wholeheartedly assume to himself to begin with?? “My way of studying when it comes to particular subjects like science is. . . pretty specific. I’m just letting you know in case, cuz’ knowing you—you’d start squirming at the mere idea of it, alright?” Slight prickle of hesitation finding itself within the swelling of his held breath, wondering as to precisely what you may perhaps, be indirectly referring to for an added precaution to be meticulously placed beforehand. “—And just an important reminder that you specifically asked for this first. . .”

“So, don’t back out on me now, Sydney.”

“Huh? What do you mean by tha—“ Hitched breath immediately faltering in its wake, momentarily tipping backwards to then, clumsily land atop the cushioned beanbags squishy exterior with a sudden, delicate oomph! Fluttering lashes and eyes instinctively squeezing shut out of pure, utter reflex on his end from mostly, having wrongly anticipated something else altogether. No, no—it wasn’t a melting kiss, at all!—what’re you talking about? Nevertheless, please wilfully ignore the modest pucker of his peachy, expectant lips.

And for a supposedly fast-working brain, it fails to rightfully catch up to the salacious absurdity of your inexplicable gestures in time—accordingly process the unforeseen, present warmth of your lingering palm neatly settled along the creeping edge of his inner thigh. Affectionately smoothing over the ruffled material of his perfectly fitted trousers poorly concealing the natural curve of the flustered initiate’s slimmer legs.

“W-Wha. . . ? What’re you doing??” Like that’ll presently answer the mind boggling questions hastily swirling throughout the crowded turbulence of his psyche, somehow appease the searing, unbearable heat intimately dusting his blooming face so—ah, damn it. You’re unreasonably too close to his dearly cherished proximity, you know that? But, of course you would, as you’ve always been pleasantly considerate of his preferred need to retract away from other’s unwelcoming touches—grazing nearly too close for his supposed liking before he’s mentally keeling over like a screeching, hot boiling kettle. And here he is, similarly blazing in that same hysterical manner from the mere dizzying proximity you’re now both sharing amongst two boys, which. . . really shouldn’t be remotely happening, at the moment.

Yes, honestly speaking—even if he doesn’t like to presently face the evident cues on their own, he’s got a semblance of a rather. . . lewd vision curiously peeking through the tendrils of the blonde’s usually enclosed mind. Sorrowfully rearing its ugly head towards a blissfully ignorant alternative as if to mock the very delicate fabric your esteemed friendship is crucially built upon.

Ah, really!—now isn’t the appropriate time to be embarrassingly sporting a straining hard-on crudely presenting itself before your very eyes. Incessantly throbbing like an insistent reminder as to why you two cannot ever supposedly call one another, simply ‘friend’, either. Nor should the even more humiliating way your expanding pupils are coolly drawn towards its shape that’s poorly hidden underneath the slim material, be his ultimate undoing. Akin to how a drooling predator has seized its prey right beneath the inescapable grasp of its unrelenting claws.

Speaking of such, he does somewhat feel that way right now, timidly shrinking in face of your sheer silence or perhaps, it’s another one of those meddlesome ploys of yours he’s grown familiar with—to further mess with him till he’s inevitably become beet in the fullness of his cheeks. Mhm, surely. . . That’s all there is to it and nothing more.

Although, he’d be more surprised at the clinically made statement that spills forth from your lips soon after, however.

“What does it look like? I’m tutoring you, obviously.” Peering your head slightly to the side as if it weren’t blatantly obvious that you were indeed, purely teaching him how to do whatever this is—and not well. . . however else you can call the current position you forcibly have him in. Noticeably firm grasp atop the pervasive spreading of his open thighs resembling one of those—ah, uh—various videotapes his parent, Sirris, withholds in the back of their popular shop which shall not be named. No, he’d prefer not to reminisce upon its increasingly erotic nature at a consequent time like this one. So irritatingly indecent that he cannot hope to regard you wholly in your eyes, too. Y’know, how is he allegedly meant to do so, anyway??

“A-Are you??” As though, further questioning you twice might potentially snap him from this daze spreading itself amongst his brain tirelessly working overtime—solely intended to make sense of this, even if he’s struggling to keep up with it, himself. “Because I don’t think. . . ah, I really don’t think this is how you usually tutor people.”

“That’s because this isn’t conventional tutoring, Syd. I guess you’ve never done it before, then—since you look. . . . ahah, got that look on your face, again.” Almost tempted to meanly huff back in return for your sheer audacity to snicker in a situation such a this one, yet he stops himself in time. Merely due to the relaxing sound of your laughter discreetly echoing throughout the confidential cubicle you’ve solely reserved for the two of you. Which, ah. . . was it intended to be scandalously used like this from the initial start? Between two promising students supposedly meant to be quietly studying amidst the bustling cafe’s welcoming environment—instead, settled atop each other like the obscure, romance films the initiate secretly views in tranquil privacy?

Oh, gosh—seriously, he cannot take any more of this. And neither can the thumping, warming blood making its way downwards to the swollen tip of his cock, apparently.

“How is this remotely meant to help me understand the teachings of my mother again??” Helplessly craning his neck sideways in a futile attempt to maintain eye contact with yours truly, that is—if you’d oh, so generously give him the time of day to do so. Though, something else subtly inches at him that you’re probably far more interested in reenacting the next unclear footage that’ll present itself in his mom’s class or something along the lines of that.

“Didn’t you know? The body tends to remember better than the mind and you know, you’re pretty forgetful, yourself, at times. I’m just helping you, that’s all. So, be more grateful, will you?” Obviously, no one save for yourself would have a cheekily made up response ready for his reasonable inquiry. Nonetheless, the indistinguishable puff of an unfinished giggle that spilled out of his poorly sealed mouth, wasn’t necessarily done on purpose, either.

Such a shame, yes, that one cannot help but to be intimately pliable under the methodical ministrations of your. . . almost reverent fingertips—not the least bit hasty in your movements and instead, mindful in how your softened palms perfectly cup the surface of the initiate’s quivering thighs. Nor should it further fluster him due to the seamless nature, in which his perched legs presently find themselves hooked along the curvature of your reliable shoulders. Always secretly liked the feel of them, didn’t he? Though, not like he’ll ever outwardly admit it for the life of him—regardless of whichever gruelling trial the Temple dutifully presents before him.

Truly, he should’ve initially seen through your deceptive methods from the mere start, shouldn’t he? But, what is there to do when he’s received such a sheltered upbringing from the slightest second he’s been brought into this tainted world, to begin with? Foolishly taught with repeated chants that certainly many shall eventually come for his pleasurable innocence—beautifully witness it fester underneath caring hands. For the addictive way it prettily spills itself from between bitten lips, nudging teeth poorly serving its purpose by failing to stifle disastrously wanton moans is too nice of a sight, isn’t it?

Yet, by god—could he not have fully anticipated how right it sinfully feels to experience the slippery tip of your tongue tracing across previously untouched skin. Unsure whether to direct his busying hands upon the parting of his open lips in hopes of partially concealing the needy whines your surroundings shouldn’t be privy to pervertedly hearing, by chance. Or, to where your head currently resides and that is, comfortably nestled between quivering legs bound to buckle beneath the sheer weight of your dizzying actions. One precarious moment you’re swiftly chucking the hem of his pants down—and the next, you’re boldly laving the flattening surface of your. . . ah, ah—oh gosh, warm tongue amongst the tensed muscles of his fluttering tummy.

Although, not quite for long as it seems your prime focus descends below to where a pretty, weeping cock embarrassingly greets your line of sight in turn. Inwardly irritated at this stuttering heart of his, beating within the confines of his ribbed cage as your attentive gazes—his, being far more blurry, at this point. Especially, with his unfound glasses laid askew somewhere around here, after being carelessly knocked forth thanks to your tactic pouncing. Quite the gentleman that you can be, at certain times. If not purely acting like an unabashed horndog, which he’ll never verbally say so, but doesn’t mind it in the slightest. Not that it withholds much importance for the time being, not when you’re simply a feathered breath away from making actual contact with his inexperienced cock , and—. . .

Ah, wait! You’re going to make genuine contact with his. . . hah—riddled with sheer and absolute embarrassment to even be uttering that one out in the plains of his clouded mind.

“Y-You’re going to touch there?? You know that’s a dirty place, though—!” Maybe it was an incidental mistake on his part, for requesting that he have his protective and reassuring chastity belt removed, after all. Solely for all intended purposes, of course; that occasionally didn’t have to do with any sinning, no—not due to the crude heat pooling at the bottom of his tummy whenever glimpses of you, by chance—filtered through his distracting brain during solemn prayers. Definitely not.

And yet, still—he makes no sudden movement to personally stop you from doing so, despite the jolting whine that ceremoniously slips past from between bitten lips. Head lolling backwards with a heaved sigh at your experimental lapping of his dribbling tip as though to test the waters, somewhat. . . ? That, or more along the insistent fact that a flicker of relief briefly flashes throughout the frantic beating of his thudding chest, only to immediately still upon your pretty mouth perfectly suited to envelop his length whole. Unashamed in the way you’re practically shoving the, well. . . nicely slim girth of his virgin cock past uncharted lips which, he may or may not have sometimes, fantasized about in the private remnants of his mind. Albeit, at ill suited times whenever you’d linger in the welcoming nature of his timid presence. But, certainly not like this! Truthfully speaking, he had envisioned it to be far more romantic than—ah, your unending exploration of his now vulnerable body bared for your grateful eyes solely.

Yes, not with your admittedly. . . soft lips thoroughly swallowing him down to the hilt that the initiate’s instinctually registered the surface of your throat merely bumping against the leaking head of his cock. Unable to cease the magnetic pull of his expanding pupils drawn to where you’re presently settled—that is, pervasively sucking on his cock and perhaps, either unbothered by the copious smearing of his translucent pre-cum glistening along the puffiness of your lips or, blissfully ignorant of its sticky texture adorning the bottom half of your pleasing face. Unconsciously admire the slight flutter of your twitching eyelashes temporarily caressing along your heated cheeks in sheer, utter concentration dedicated to pleasuring him so. Plus you’re evidently taking delight in the accidental squeeze of his soft thighs pressed against your head—like a pair of warming earmuffs meant for yours to wear, even though it’s the comforting heat of his naked skin instead.

Ah, remarkably so, he must be progressively turning into a pervert himself from the abundant amount of time he’s spent his free days with you. To genuinely revere your debauched state as such, wishfully yearn to bear witness to more of you like this. Considering how he’s grown accustomed to an unperturbed version of yourself delicately fabricated in his pictured mind, untouched by the degeneracy that others around him similarly indulge in. In spite of that, however—there’s an almost gleeful joy to know you’re no exception, divine being that’s shockingly immune to temptation laid at your reaching fingertips.

And you do so boldly reach—in your confident manner that he’s now used to. Stubbornly refusing to relent with the noisy suckling of your slippery mouth enclosed around his inexperienced cock, more like you’re openly relishing in each and every whine that threatens to alert unsuspecting and ignorant customers nearby. Repeatedly tugging on each and every individual strand of your now thoroughly messied hair in a vain plea to at the very least, ease up on that. . . ah, warmth surrounding his sensitive tip, further guided towards the edge from those drawn out slurps!

Oh, that’d be a shame, yes. To be precariously caught in a lewd position like this, for all to see—innocent, ol’ church boy receiving such treatment from the adored model student known by all. Gosh, the inexplicably absurd thought has him pathetically quivering underneath your lips, importantly dedicated to have him shyly swipe a taste of the addictive nature that is, none other than melding sin itself. Because if that is so, the cradling heat of your head preciously nestled between the comfy embrace of his spread thighs. Intimate hold of your fist deliberately stroking along the veiny base of his pulsing length to make up for what your undeniably tight throat unfortunately cannot reach, all the while paying devoted attention to his puffs or rolling breath. Quiver of his puffy bottom lip accompanied by the slight shudder in furrowed, thin eyebrows and noticeably tightening of his neglected balls. Then, he’d graciously welcome it so, with open arms, again and again.

Oh, God and heavenly deities watching from above; please do forgive him so, for the disgraceful noises that are rolling off his stuck-out tongue, too.

Restlessly echoing the methodical scripture of the Bible’s commandments won’t conceivably make up for the erotic act he’s indulging in—and neither for the incoming approach of his release, teetering over the steep edge.

“W-Wait, please—I think, ah. . . My tummy feels all weird and hot inside, a-and I think I’m gon’ cum—I’m cumming—“ Breathlessly announcing beforehand, lest he rudely spilled the sticky mixture of your slippery saliva along with a heavy load of his seed upon your pristine face. Surely, that isn’t his proper intentions whatsoever nor an actual way of repaying you back for coating the entirety of his weeping cock in your wet spit.

But, like the sneaky prankster that you are, that he’s so often reprimanded in the desolate area of the library; you disappointingly retract yourself away from his abused cock in turn, letting it slip free with an audible squelch! and an even lewder pop! to noisily ring throughout the confines of your shared cubicle. Cruelly deprive him of such a well-deserved orgasm that was soon enough, at stake, within reach for his shivering frame to melt into—whine at in sheer protest from the distracting press of your thumb atop his swollen cock head oozing creamy pre for you to appreciatively tut down at.

“Sorry, wifey. You don’t get to cum yet, not till I’m finished prepping you up for the most important part of the lesson. Just a little more. . . —and I promise it’ll feel even better than before, alright?” Behold what you seamlessly do—softly caressing away at the almost spoiled, hidden part of him that was bound to irritatingly swipe at your dizzying hold along his weeping length, though you somehow shush him first for such—as if happily conscious of that predictable response. And he, in turn, cannot hope to go against you for it, either.

Also, wait a second there—did you just casually refer to him as ‘wifey’? Akin to how a husband would’ve ceremoniously called along after his beloved and cherished wife on a sunny afternoon so that she may fetch him a cup of brewed coffee. A seemingly trivial nickname withholding all the spilling adoration one might possess by chance.

However, before he can remotely register that salacious statement and let the lavish heat of his churning bloodstream traverse towards the tip of his ears, you do the honours of redirecting the devious and moist surface of your tongue downwards—below; a forbidden place that he hasn’t necessarily explored due to the overwhelming guilt that’d perturb him in his nonsensical dreams. Resounding squeak at the foreign sensation of something else, something besides the overly nervous pads of his fingertips circling around that flushed rim—worming its way through his previously sealed, puckered hole. Smoothly breaching past what shouldn’t have been disturbed to begin with and, ah—ohhh, that certainly feels. . . weird. Shamefully pleasurable, type of weird, he mentally admits.

“Y-You’re really, hah, pushing it—. . .” If that was supposedly intended to be read as some dignified scolding then, it certainly falls short when wracked between muted babbles. So like you, to reduce him to a pile of mush, that is. Experienced thumbs inching forward, nudging upon the squishy flesh—spreading his asscheeks apart much to his humiliated bearings, in further pursuit of burying yourself in its velvety warm insides. Hot, slippery tongue laving across clenching walls that immediately twitch at your intrusion of the sensitive bundle of nerves, leaving behind crescent marks etched in the softening skin that’s unused to such treatment.

Oh, holy, holy Father—is this what Heaven feels like when you’re warmly enveloped in its comfortable embrace? Because if so, please do not stop until I’ve succumbed to this sinful pleasure.

And Gods from above, forbid that you stretch this on any further then it needs to, maybe due to a cautious need that he fully enjoys himself—however, what he salaciously desires at the moment is for you to remove those fingers that reach further than his does—sinking in the warmth of his greedy hole hungrily sucking at the feel of your two digits. Oh, perish that meaningless thought, now you’ve seemingly allowed another to join in, scissoring at the exceptionally tight ring struggling to adjust to its sudden intrusion. Seamlessly allowing you to be granted a full view of slicked and wet insides, sticky strings of fluids predictably snapping away once you’ve deemed his untainted hole to be sufficiently loosened.

Loosened? That’s—. . . Speaking of the devil, of what will be the one to ‘loosen’ him or perhaps, better put; ‘stretch’ his quivering entrance dumbly clenching around absolutely nothing whatsoever—‘course unless you grant him the selfless permission to be the one to adorably choke around your pretty cock. Dizzyingly bear witness to its pulsating girth imprint itself within the smooth surface of his tummy, bulge at the repeated snap of your hips, hah—that wouldn’t be so bad.

So, you do so—wordlessly gazing in absent thought at the debauched sight you’ve aided in creating. Stray strands of strawberry blonde hair splayed across the softened surface. For the delicate elastic that once held those docile locks have now unraveled anew; such as is the same with those glimmering eyes that would similarly stare back in an absent flush, reduced to a melding pool that wants to swallow all that you allow it to.

Truly, resembling that of a meticulously drawn out masterpiece meant for its sole purpose to be hung in a sophisticatedly built museum, thoroughly admired for all to potentially see. But, no. . . However else, it seems you’ll be the one to intimately keep this ruined appearance of his, to your egoistic self. And for that, he doesn’t withhold any sort of complaints, no—none at all, really.

“You look nice like this. With your loose hair down like this, I mean.” Puffing out almost. . . shyly from between parted lips, straying eyes traversing downwards to where his are, too—that is, your tented bulge showcasing itself through rustling trousers. Silently cursing him for being the sole one to blame for your unusually heated state. Although, there’s a twinge of smugness that secretly peeks through concealed uncertainty for knowing that he’s irrefutably responsible for this. For the fact that your length is dribbling out copious amounts of sticky pre to stain your underwear sheer in a similar debauched manner, restlessly throbbing underneath the weight of his tentative palm placed atop it. So, apparently; even you do get shy, too. Under the necessary circumstances like this one.

“. . . It’s so warm.” Outwardly shuddering at your poorly stifled hiss that drawls past bitten lips meant to fuck, furrowed deepening in dwindling concentration from those explorative rubs of his. Unable to help himself, that is—since it’s far too addictive to feel its hot outline twitching along careful stroking, circling around your leaking tip like a soothing balm dedicated to temporarily satisfy your aching cock. Not for all that long, it supposedly seems and he’s not vocally protesting either.

“Fuck, why do you think that is exactly?” Hitched breath barely slipping from an open mouthed ‘o’ at your snuffed annoyance, for it is so unlike you to be using such crass language to begin with. Albeit, it seems he’s come to unfurl at the methodically placed platitudes you roll yourself in—like a lovingly formed gift adorning a pretty bow atop it all. Maybe greedy of him, to eagerly scratch away at the useless plastic paper he bears no interest in and instead, peer in awe at the tainted sin that greets the church boy in turn.

And for that—he holds no particular answer because he does indeed know as to why you’re churning a heated mess in the depths of your tummy, precariously straining against swiping fingertips that experimentally paw at your now loosened belt. Absently leave it to jingle and sprawl along the carpeted floor to then, let your impatient cock finally spring free from beneath its restricting confines. Ungraciously land atop the flat of his tensed stomach with an even lewder slap! to stain its softness with a milky trail of sticky pre-cum. Oh, wow. Certainly didn’t expect for it to be. . . so pleasurably appealing to gaze upon as though it’d just about taunt him to dip it inside his needy, begging hole.

“I won’t lie. . . You’re really asking for it, Syd. Either that, or you’re just dumb. Well, you sort of are—who’s the one that had to pick up after your spilled pieces again? Me, of course. But, you’ve gotta know by now it wasn’t out of mere kindness, right?” Spilling forth from between open maw before he’s gotten the allotted time to potentially gasp at in fraught surprise—immediately process the salacious announcement which he’s been inwardly craving for. Ah, will you do so? Be so generous to grant him the rare opportunity within cupped palms or perhaps, obsessive hands that pinch and prod at unmarked skin? “So, I ask you this; and I’ll only ask you this once.“

“Pretty please, dearest Sydney—will you allow me to fuck your pretty pink, dripping hole? Because either way, I really can’t fucking wait, right now.”

Hah, it shouldn’t be so indecently effective to the warmth pooling below—for your vocal request of his uttered consent. Truthfully, is there any genuine need to secretly inquire what’s so painfully evident?? Teeth nudging atop his puffy, bottom lip that hopelessly quivers in face of your seriousness regarding the rather. . . embarrassing prospect at hand, here.

“Please—. . .” Eventually drawls out from parted lips, trembling arms hastily hung over fluttering lashes that don’t dare to steal a glimpse from angled gaps. No, for he wordlessly fears that if he were to catch a supposing glance of your strained expression within this very instant—the initiate wouldn’t be able to mutter another solemn prayer devoid of wanton desire, to be railed into the nearest surface below. Still, hung along a teetering thread that’s bound to disastrously snap under the guise of your undeterred focus. Urging him to mirror those spoken words in the filthiest manner possible considering his rare share of utilizing such disdainful vocabulary. But yet, nonetheless, he does between stuttering gasps. “—F. . . Fuck me.”

“That’s my good boy. I knew you had it in you after all, hm?” Unspoken sighs silently tumble forth from what supposedly must be your shared cubicle, but he cares no further at the mere idea of getting possibly caught in this form. Not with the dribbling tip of your eager cock lamentably dragging along the surface of his spread asscheeks solely presented for your intended amusement. Half lidded gaze inwardly pleading from under, at how each tentative nudge of your hot, red cock head momentarily knocks out each quivering breath out of him—deepens this burning urge to guide you in the intimate walls of his puckered hole.

Which, he so graciously does the honour of doing so by a shaky grasp held upon its throbbing girth. Tightening palm clumsily placed atop your hipbone for wordless support as you finally. . . finally—do continuously ease yourself in all at once, stretch the aching emptiness deep within his stirring guts that longed to be deliciously filled to the utter brim.

“H-Hah—you’re tighter than I expected, but that’s okay.” Muttering from between ushered curses, wistfully cooing down at the glistening droplets of shiny tears that threatened to spill past the entire length of his crimson cheeks. Of course, not due to some unsuspecting pain supposedly coursing throughout the hefty and sudden stretch of his now thoroughly defiled hole—no, because that’s where you surely belong. Or so, he’s subconsciously deluded himself of such. Nestled deep in the warm softness of his drooling insides that so gleefully welcome your veiny girth, like a comforting flesh light preciously suited to be molded to yours truly. He’d ask for nothing else, truly.

Instinctually, his sweating hands delicately place themselves along the reassuring curvature of your shoulders which he oh, so does adore to often rely on in times like these. Yes, supposed encounter where you’re dizzyingly getting fucked full within an inch of your life, now that your drooling tip has nicely settled deep in the melding suckling of his clenching walls. And he possibly can’t help the mutual huffs of shuddering breaths that collectively fall forth from both of you—resembling that of those foolish students that like to sneak around the peaceful library he dutifully manages; one telltale hand down each other’s pants. Gosh, even thinking back on it now—embarrassingly knowing he’s no better than those pervasive harlots that noisily fuck in semi public places, if not; then unabashedly out in the grand open. Unable to hopelessly lay off one another’s greedy touches in the same manner that he presently is doing so, but. . . please, don’t take pitiful notice of that minor aspect.

This is what it’s like, is it not? Straining features furrowing deeper in a scrunched expression of unadulterated bliss—useless, little finger that he has at his disposal, to barely stifle the pleasured moans that’s bound to roll past firmly pursued lips. Something about the affectionate way you shush that teensy, disruptive method away with a mouthful of your cherry-perfect lips enclosing themselves around his digit. Because even if he secretly wishes it so, those trained eyes of yours won’t dare to momentarily stray away from that scarcely concealed note of wracked gratification painted along the heat of his face.

“Don’t run away from me, Syd. Tell me—I wanna see it, I wanna see your face when I’m properly inside you like this.” Considerably gentle despite the undeniable amount of control which you possess in this unbecoming position, practically folded in half by the slight hunch of your heaving back looming over his ragged figure. That is, ignoring the miniature distance that only noticeably shrinks with each of your practiced thrusts inside his greedy hole—not to mention, sloppy squelches! loudly ringing throughout the limited confines of the cafe’s walls—that he blearily hopes no passerby catches note of. Merely millimetres away from ineffectively bumping your foreheads together in a connected touch. “The way your eyelids flutter, shit. . . hah, your hole is clenching in on my dick like the perfect cock sleeve. Does it feel that nice to have someone’s cock inside you like this—with your best friend being balls deep inside your hole??”

“U-Uh huh—“ Obviously can’t hear you when he’s helplessly babbling revised prayers, as though that might erase the sheer depravity of this situation—excuse him of the unbridled enjoyment he’s partaking in. Ironic in its nature, considering the holy pendant formed into a pictured cross, loosely hooped around his neck and continuously bouncing due to the precise humps your fat cock has to so kindly offer him in return. One hand splayed atop his marked waist as if in an afterthought, something to hold onto lest he ceremoniously was guided to the nearest wall—thanks to your eager fucks, too. Bump his precious head against, which you’re softly cradling in additional carefulness.

Judging by the whiny begging uncontrollably escaping in response, something along the lines of ‘please, don’t stop’ and ‘feels so good’—ah, he cannot distinguish much when reduced to he’s a cock-drooling mess, tattered shell of his usually composed self.

Ah, talk about sickeningly intimate it is to be unbearably connected to one another like this. Irrefutably against the sheer prospect of cruelly pulling out and Gods, he honestly doesn’t want you to, either. Please, please. . . heavens from above, don’t dare to cease in the repeated slaps! of your balls taut with sticky seed—against the receptive spreading of his open thighs. Nor mind the bold movement seamlessly acted out on automatic, to desperately hook the length of his legs—definitely unused to this much, of course—along your waist in a silent plea or rather, ploy to messily keep up with the slight roll of your untiring hips. Forbidding you from so much as popping your oozing tip out before then, soon enough; you’re savagely ramming it deep inside once more, hissing at the cushioned nerves that greet your tingling head and so forth.

Utterly smitten is what he is, so much so that he doesn’t remotely take notice of your fist now loosely pumping at the neglected length of his quivering dick between slippery skin. Oh, oh—y’know, that’s far too cruel to be simultaneously stimulating both ends of his overly sensitive, tingling body! “Hah, you can’t—ah, suddenly do that!” Open mouth unconsciously falling forth at the constant press of your flattening palm along his glistening tip. Head falling backwards in which his entire curved spine follows along to, arching in a way he’d never have thought possible if it weren’t for your cock driving itself deep inside his squishy, warm walls.

Still, in a vain and pitiful effort to alert you of such—fingertips digging deeper in the delicate texture of your flesh, almost deep enough to draw spilling blood. Though, not his intention at all to instil searing pain in you whatsoever. Not at all, truthfully! It’s just. . . ah, it’s becoming increasingly clear that he’s nearing inevitable release due to your added pleasure inducing actions from both sides. Inefficiently peering up from below lidded lashes and stray pinches of your now thoroughly marked back to signal his eventual descent into adoring defilement.

“S-Slow. . . down—“ He hadn’t meant to meaninglessly scorn you like you had any shred of chance of doing so—but, it’s ultimately humiliating to feel the teetering edge of himself reaching his dreaded limit. Glassy eyes stupidly rolling back to meet pitched darkness once that sickeningly long coil in his stuffed tummy finally snaps. Pink tongue prettily sticking out for your cherished gaze to etch into focus all while slobbering over the added thumb you’ve generously lent to suckle upon—drool over and coat it in transparent spit as the first load of milky cum uncontrollably squirts out of his swollen slit. Crudely stains the momentarily pristine surface of his clenching tummy and even going forward, to drip amongst his slackened jaw.

Ultimately, he must certainly appear as a wracked mess before you with dripping globs of his dirty release adorning the entirety of his upper body. Heaving chest puffing at each ragged gasp that crawls out of his sore throat from the sheer muddled consciousness he’s presently bearing, at the moment. Clutching onto the remaining familiarity there is and that merely happens, to be your observant self perched atop his bent figure.

But, that’s of no importance to you, is it now? For the entangled limbs you’ve now collectively fallen into—a heaping thread preciously formed from him to you, there’s no other way you would’ve gone about it, after all.

Here and now, he’s acknowledged it, too, himself—whether the Temple allows it or not, the distinct reverence in your eyes and the unspoken bond shared amongst you two. Uncaring for how twisted it may be in the critical eyes of his worshipped religion, the shocked gasps that will surely follow at the discovered ignorance of the strict restraints placed upon oneself.

Even if you haven’t properly spilled your seed in him yet, the mark has been done—effect irreversibly washing on his cracked perception. Since you’ve laid your claim, staked the original urge you’ve been meaning to this whole, extended time. Beared witness to the melded fluids you’re now licking along in renewed affection, brought upwards at his petulant tugs for your returned proximity near his own. Yes, he does indeed know it so and evidently, so do you.

And honestly, he doesn’t wish to let go of your warming skin closely held against his own anytime soon, either.

[l0vergirls]

take the reins

you've dug too deep, but there doesn't seem to be a downside to that.

batfam x reader

wc: 1382

a/n: i started watching mr. robot (plz no spoilers im literally on the 3rd episode) and fell in love with it and .. started thinking !!!.. & this is lowkey set up like the start of a series, but i'll see how it goes considering i have nothing plannef at all. .. pls do send asks about this story and this reader since i would love love love to expand on it hehe

It was as if time had stopped for a moment.

You found out a lot of secrets. Secrets that can put people behind bars. What do you do with those? Send in an anonymous tip to the rare non corrupt cop, of course. You like to think of it as being a non-violent vigilante. Instead of running around Gotham in a costume and beating the bad guys within an inch of their life, you sit comfortably behind your computer screen and dig.

You dig for anything and everything you can find on everyone you encounter. Why? Maybe it's the unrelenting feeling of needing control, or the fear of simply not knowing.

By breaking something down to its source code, you're baring it all; the rights, the wrongs, everything that makes or breaks you. You won't get caught off guard if you just know how something— someone works.

Sometimes, you find nothing noteworthy. Your neighbor in 405, for example. The first time you had passed her, she sneered at you. That was good enough reason to hack her.

The woman at 405 is Emma Davis, aged 35, 5'7, date of birth: May 15th. Studied at NYU, worked a desk job at some company in Star City before getting relocated to Gotham. Yeah, I wouldn't be ecstatic either. Brings home a different person every week. Occasionally smokes weed. Also your occasional hook up. Don't make decisions while intoxicated.

Emma Davis is just a run of the mill office worker, with the same vices as most people. Nobody special.

But this? This could get you in serious shit, if you aren't in for it already.

Bruce Wayne, date of birth: February 19th, 6'2, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, adoptive father of multiple children, and... crime fighting vigilante at night.

Bruce Wayne is Batman.

It wasn't hard to connect the dots after uncovering the man behind the cowl; you figured all his children were Robins at one point. Even the dead one. Except the dead one isn't really dead, is he?

Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne— all crime fighting vigilantes. What a family. You wonder who else you can unmask.

Fuck, you need to go home. Doing this at a coffee shop was a mistake, but damn it, their connection was fast. Too many people, too great a chance of a breakdown.

Close all the tabs, all the windows, scrub yourself clean of all evidence of intrusion. Don't leave a trace.

Shut down the laptop. Leave.

The sun is still out, they wouldn't be around yet. Everyone knows they all work at the dead of night.

You drown out the meaningless conversations around you, and you're on autopilot, heading to the apartment that you call home.

<>

The Waynes pride themselves on their secrecy. Hiding their vigilante alter egos behind carefully crafted lies. They built walls as tall as the buildings with Bruce's name plastered across the front.

It was a little too late when Alfred Pennyworth received an alert from the Batcomputer. Alfred sent all the vigilantes a message, and they came running in. After all, a security breach is detrimental to all of them.

The butler found a location, The Last Drop. A café right in the middle of the city.

Bruce looked through all of the files, recordings, reports— everything. The hacker didn't take anything, and didn't make copies. He deduced that whoever it was simply read.

That's no good either. Someone out there is aware of who they are, who the man under the mask is.

"Alfred, pull up CCTV footage at The Last Drop at the time of the hack."

On the screen were the grainy videos of the café, with at least 6 different angles. It was fairly crowded, filled with busybodies coming and going through the door. With 7 people on their laptops, they could narrow down the search for the culprit. But not by much.

Until two figures left the café at the same time, approximately a few minutes after the breach, but neither of them were sitting next to each other.

It was one or the other.

Tyler Hess, banker. Went to school in the city, stayed in the city. Clean records, comes from an upper middle class family. Nothing of note.

[Y/N] [L/N], cybersecurity engineer at LabyrinthTech, and one of the more favored employees. Born and raised in Gotham, graduated college a year early, and by all accounts, highly intelligent. Clean records, but skilled enough to be the one behind the hack.

"Well, I think we found our suspect. What're you gonna do about it?" Jason bristled, apprehensive that this person knew all about him.

"'You'? What, you've got your own plan?" Dick retorted.

"Maybe. Not like I'm gonna hurt the little thing," he spat. It was invasive enough that you'd hacked into their records, he thinks a little scare is warranted.

Bruce interrupted, "No, I'll deal with this. They accessed our data for a reason."

<>

It was inevitable that one of them was gonna pay you a visit tonight.

After locking yourself in the apartment, you figured a quick nap would be a good distraction from it. And it was, for a couple hours. Upon waking, you walked into the living room and lo and behold, vengeance himself was standing in your apartment.

"Can't say I didn't expect this, really," you spoke carefully, avoiding his gaze.

He grunted, "Then you know why I'm here. Why'd you do it? What do you gain from figuring out our identities?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a shadow moving across your window.

"Nothing. I just got curious. All billionaires are shady, and they're all hiding something. You were, by far, the most suspicious," you let out a breath. "Don't worry, that's not what anyone else thinks, at least not anyone that can do what I do,"

You hear another voice joining the conversation.

"Do what? Invade people's privacy? You should really be careful where you stick your nose in, hacker."

If looks could kill, you'd be dead ten times over. God, this guy's intense even through that helmet.

Jason Todd, aka Red Hood, date of birth: August 16th, date of death: April 27th, 6'0, occasional smoker, former Robin. Likes pot roast.

Batman— no, Bruce Wayne interjected, "Suspicious?"

"Might just be me, but I found it hard to believe the richest man in the world would be throwing so much money into this dump of a city without an ulterior motive," you look at one of the ears on his cowl, it was almost cute, "Every other rich guy did. Whatever money they put out, it came back to them ten times bigger. Nobody really felt for this city."

That was your angle? The two men went still at your somber admittance. Sure, Gotham wasn't the best city, but that's why they did what they did, wasn't it? They had the slightest urge to show you that they really did care. And perhaps show off a bit.

Jason shifted, "You did it because of a gut feeling?"

You shrugged, "It was right, wasn't it? Something was up, just not... in the way I expected,"

It wasn't everyday you uncover a vigilante that turned out to be Gotham's beloved billionaire.

"Anyway, congratulations on not being an entirely bad guy. 'm not gonna tell anyone," you murmured, "not like anyone's gonna believe me,"

You see Red Hood look at Batman, a silent conversation was, no doubt, occurring.

The two vigilantes head for your window— do these guys ever use the front door?

Bruce turns to you, "Try not to do it again,"

"No promises," you huffed. "But your defenses could use some work. Comms, body cams, and other recorded footage— they were just there."

Red Hood's helmet glinted as he tilted his head at you. You shivered.

"Right, won't do it again," and that was that.

It was like they were never here.

What a night.

<>

You scrutinized the letter in your hands.

A job offer for a position you've never interviewed for. At Wayne Enterprises.

Batman works quick, that's for sure.

The pay was good, very good. You reckon there wasn't a single complaint about that.

Hm, they're making sure you're under their watch. If you were a threat, you'd be easier to keep an eye on. Easier to control.

You weren't one to give up control, but potentially having access to the city’s… well, everything, was something too tempting to give up.

Looks like LabyrinthTech was losing their best employee.

[sunshine6ixty]

i think this is where i've landed with the whole gaiman thing.

some background, i was a gaiman girlie. i paid money to see him speak, i volunteered for a signing, i've taken pictures in front of the world's largest carousel; hugely formative, resonated on a level that nothing else i've encountered did, and so on and so on etcetera. (i got to say "mr gaiman i wouldn't be who i am today without your books" to him, which is a Different Flavored Memory now than it once was, i can tell you)

and like. though his books had a familiar and fond place in my life, i'd already gotten to a point of... nebulous disenchantment? not disgust or anything-- just that nature was taking its course, and i was drifting away. i started reading neil gaiman at age... what, thirteen? maybe eleven? and i read his work consistently for a while. i'm in my thirties now, and i haven't been keeping track, but i've read american gods once a year for at least the past five years. it was just... kinda time, in a way. he seemed like he'd said what he had to say, and was coasting in a perpetual victory lap, which i was fine with. i'd just... keep picking at the gaiman books again when i was bored.

and i remember thinking, around when i first noticed this distance i'd been feeling, that i was just... running dry. things felt stale and i didn't know where to look to change that.

and then this all happened.

and all of a sudden, my perception of this person has been wrenched into a completely new perspective. just, twisted sideways, seams popping, eyes bugging, can't-unbreak-the-action-figure wrenched. the spell is broken, in an ironically gaiman-esque way, and this mythic figure (~*nEIL GAIman*~) is revealed to be just a shitty, spoiled brat of a complete fucking monster.

i've read the article, i've heard the stories about how weird he was for doctor who, i've seen not-unreasonable allegations of plagarism floating around-- suffice it to say, he's just a shit of a dude. he's... not special. not really. he's a good writer who said one thing with his work, and lived another. who saw something that resonated, and put his name on it. who said something that we felt, and said he gave it to us.

and i realized, from this angle, that the reason i was feeling so dried out was likely because neil gaiman (some might say purposefully) took all the fucking air out of the room. like, nobody was neil gaiman, right, so what right could you have to try to do a neil gaiman? he was the only gaiman. the apex of gaiman. peak gaiman. the mystical, profound, monotheistic god of dark poetic storytelling.

but like. he wasn't. it turns out, he was just a shitty dude. magic or no, he was mostly just entitled.

and i think that sort of broke something in me. if the curtain was pulled back and there was just a weird, shitty little dude in there, then what the fuck have i been doing? in an... i-should-probably-talk-to-a-therapist-about-this sort of way, neil gaiman kept me from writing! like-- i was a kid who took pictures of graves at age five, who made up a story about a child bricked up in the school belltower who's ghost still wandered the halls (and published it in the school newspaper, next to what flavor milk does mrs k's 5th grade class prefer), who believed there was a door to another world beneath their neighbor's ornamental bush, who mapped the lost city (/junk dump) in the open space drainage ditch! this is the stuff i did before i knew gaiman! i liked gaiman because i was into this stuff already, and then after a while, without me really noticing it, neil gaiman became this stuff. the only source of it. the only rightful creator of a gaiman.

and like... if you know you can't do it like neil gaiman, because he's him and you're not, you kind of start despairing before you even begin, right?

fuck that.

i think, what i can take away from the whole debacle is this: it's time for all of us who have ever felt like this to do a gaiman.

... by which i mean, make our art. not the other stuff.

you have every right to be as audacious as neil gaiman with your art. take it as seriously, tell everyone it's as important. put that thing down on paper; the thing you otherwise wouldn't.

look, chances are, you're actually a better person than neil gaiman. he sucks. he was a skilled craftsman, but skill can be learned. what he did was practice and talk himself up. and there is nothing magical about neil gaiman that hasn't also run beneath our fingertips.

there was never anything unique about ~*neiLGAiman*~. not really. neil just made him up to be the special-est most darkest and dreamiest boy there ever was, and it was a fucking lie, and its insidious the degree to which it ate an entire genre.

because, honestly? i want to read more shit like neil gaiman! i've been hungry for more of what he said was solely his for so fucking long! i want to see what weird, fever-dream stories we've all been sitting on because he ate the entire ecosystem! i want to read all of the beautiful, terrible, fucked-up magical things from everyone that never saw the light of day because neil was too busy basking in it!

and now that the mask is off, it's fucking time. i'm going to take my shit back, neil. fuck you.

in a weird, fucked-up way, what a relief.

[fontainexpert]

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 — 𝙠𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙖𝙚-𝙝𝙤/𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙧 388

ᓚᘏᗢ  kang dae-ho / player 388 x 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

ᓚᘏᗢ  where when lights go out in the second day, you and Dae-ho can no longer resist each other.

tags; handjob, cum eating, blowjob, not much dialogue. 2.8K

HELLO; this small smut was removed from my complete fanfiction on wattpad. The fanfic it’s called ‘CARNAL’ by the username of fontainexpert, feel free to read the complete story :)

ENGLISH is not my first language, sorry if there is any mistakes!

“Too hot.” 

You turned your head to the right, seeing Dae-ho leaving his space under the bunk bed, struggling as much as he did when he first went under the bed, as per Gi-hun’s requests. He got up, and apologized for startling you as he went and stepped in your bed laying right on his other side, getting up and removing his jacket. Neither of you could sleep, both still whispering to one another, but deciding to share the comfortable silence pairing between yourselves.

The scene of him standing in front of you, removing his jacket in such a haste made you stare at him up and down, admiring his body even if covered by the clothes. Supporting your weight by your forearm, throat going dry, lips feeling the need to be wet, allowing yourself to feel attracted and lust to the man.

Said man, as soon as he removed his jacket and allowed himself to breathe in relief, looked at you in front of him, watching the details on your face, as you looked up at him. For some reason, the same impure thoughts came back fiercely, your position on the ground not helping him at all. Dae-ho gulped, feeling his breath grow heavier by the second, remembering the burning hot feeling inside his stomach earlier, when he kept looking at your lips, almost caving in.

However, movement on the other side caught both your attention, seeing Junhee get up from her mattress, and clumsy walk to the front, speaking slowly to Gi-hun about needing to go to the bathroom, having Mr. Jang join her too.

You and Dae-ho looked at each other once again, resuming eye contact as soon as the pregnant woman left. He gulped and coughed a little, giving a small nod and crouching again to enter his bed under the bunk.

Before he could even try to enter, you stopped him. Heart pounding, you breathed and slowly stopped him from entering the small space again, blocking it with your feet. In response, he paused, looking at the feet in front of him, and then trailing his eyes up the legs, meeting your eyes.

Biting your lip, you moved the leg away, seeing him paying attention to each movement your leg did. Getting up from the bed, you got up on your knees and stood right in front of him, faces closer than before when playing Gong-gi together.

“Can I?” You mouthed, partially afraid of even breathing too loudly and having people know what you were doing, or about to do.

Dae-ho did not respond, instead, just fiercely closed his mouth on yours..

He grabbed you by the back of your neck, closing his eyes and connecting the mouths together as soon as you finished mouthing your question. A kiss so passionate and deep that made you want to moan out loud from the pleasure you were feeling by having his tongue fuck your mouth, pratically.

Melting into him, you interlock your fingers in his hair and pull a few strands, enjoying how his other hand travelled down to your waist, squeezing as tight. Dae-ho pulled your head back by the hair and started to assault your neck, sucking and licking the skin, biting occasionally too. Your mouth was open in a silent moan, eyes going to the back of your head in pleasure for the attention your neck received.

A shiver would run through your spine each time you felt his tongue trace each suck he would give under your ear; a tremble in your entire body each time he would calmly bite into the skin. Feeling his hand go under your shirt and caress the skin of your back; in response, bringing your own hand that previously was in his hair and grabbing his own hand, lowering it. 

Dae-ho immediately squeezed your ass with gusto, bringing you closer to him as he went back to kiss you on the lips.

He found it a good coincidence, how previously he was having such an impure thought about wanting to devour your lips, bite into the skin and have his tongue deep inside your throat, that now that he was experiencing it, he felt his cock twitch in want, making the confinement inside his boxers uncomfortable.

“You..” He whispered, almost inaudible from how low it sounded. 

You bit his lip, pulling the flesh and making eye contact with him, releasing it and watching as his eyes became sharper and more dazed as he looked at you. Both had one thing in common; how rosy and hot your cheeks were.

You turned the positions, bringing your lips back against his and grabbing him by the face. Slowly but surely, working silently, you pushed him on the bed, going on top of him, sitting right on his cock through each of your clothes. Dae-ho copied your position from before and supported his weight with his forearms, his right hand going from your waist to your ass.

One slow movement from your hips against the hard, big length you were sitting on, and the man was gone.

Dae-ho broke the kiss and opened his mouth in a moan that never was heard. Each movement from the hips on top of the tip of his cock, made him cuss inside his head, cursing that they weren’t alone to act and moan freely.

You positioned your clit strategically, sliding through his length, trembling in pleasure, feeling from the palm of your hands how he was also shaking from pleasure, pussy teasing him from the layers of clothing, hating to not be able to actually touch it. Doing a few movements of back and forth against his cock, you gasped quietly and closed your eyes in pleasure, feeling his hands squeeze your ass tighter, himself forcing your movements to be stronger.

Separating from the kiss, you supported your right hand on the back of his neck, looking down. Both his hands were on your waist as you moved back and forth against his length, and you could actually cry from how good it was to feel a relief on your clit. He traveled his eyes to your clothed pussy against his cock, and to your face, watching as your eyes were closed in ecstasy, mouth opening occasionally when feeling too good, and going back to bite your own lips to stop from emitting any type of noise.

Dae-ho clenched his jaw, frustrated and extremely horny, wanting nothing more than to pound your pussy until next weekend.

“Gi-hun, I’m up.” 

The frantic movements stopped, partially stunned by the fact that you both could be caught at any minute. In unison, the both of you turned your heads and watched from a bed ahead how Jung-bae rolled from his spot under the bed, and yawned. You both took the chance to detangle yourselves from each other’s position, and rapidly go back to your respective spots.

Dae-ho quickly and silently laid down on his own bed, and you went back on your own, laying down on the mattress, right beside the man you were, a few seconds ago, sliding your clothed pussy on his entire length.

With battered breaths, they listened to how Jung-bae went to stand by Gi-hun, and started to chat.

You huffed quietly, upset by the fact that you were cockblocked, and maybe if you were alone, you would have continued with your escapades, however knowing that you were not able to cum alone with only your own fingers, you doubted the man beside you would take the risk.

Controlling your breath, you turned your head to look at him, and saw him already staring back.

You breathed and smiled bashfully, being able to mumble a small “sorry”, hearing both men ahead of them talking in a volume that would certainly cover her own. 

He nodded. And the next second grabbed you by the arm, bringing you to share his bed under the bunk bed structure, relishing in your surprised gasp, but swallowing it the next second with his mouth.

To say that you were delighted with his move, would be an understatement. You wanted to continue kissing him even if it was risky. With a satisfied smile against his mouth, you swallowed his heavy breath as soon as your hand traveled down his stomach, grasping his cock through his pants.

Dae-ho closed his eyes as he felt your fingers slide inside his pants and boxers, feeling you close your hand around his pulsing cock. You felt the hot flesh warm the palm of your hand and licked your lips, realizing how you could barely, only barely, close your hand on his length. The man raised his hips and helped you to lower his clothes till his knees, in response, you whispered a “good boy” and ran your tongue in his neck.

Looking down, you see his cock on your hand. Heavy, pretty, thick. Watching as a drip of precum falls into his lower abdomen, the head touching it and making a small puddle you oh so wanted to lick and swallow. You have to bite your own lip, pussy growing wet and clenching around nothing, almost sobbing from the lack of attention, growing a painful feeling of need on her lower part.

Slowly making movements up and down, you watched with rapid attention as the foreskin on his cock would bundle up around his tip, and more precum would drip from his tip, trailing down your fingers and falling his length until his lower abdomen and balls. 

Dae-ho licks his lips, eyes hooded and breath heavy, mouth opening in silent moans and gasps, his control almost slipping from his own hands, wishing he could throw his worries in the air and simply get up, walk to any bathroom, and fuck your pussy untill you squirts all over him.

Alas, he was too shy to actually do so. So he would enjoy this as much as he could, which was too good.

He can taste a bit of blood on his own mouth after biting for so long to not emit any type of sound, but still, each time either Gi-hun or Jung-bae would speak even if a little louder than usual, he would allow himself to whimper exactly in your ear, enjoying how each time he did, you would squeeze his cock a little more, movements going up and down a little faster.

You press your thumb on his tip, biting your lip as the man under you bucks his hips up, tightly squeezing the mattress as a way to ground himself. His hair that once was in the familiar man-bun was now all spread in the pillow, giving a sinful yet cute image of his long locks free, yet his skin shining with sweat and hair sticking to his face.

His mouth opened against your but you immediately stroked with your tongue, slowly on his lip and entering his wet mouth, feeling him sink in the mattress underneath the both of you, his cock twitching nonstop. Momentarily abandoning his cock, you started fondling with his balls, smirking with pleasure as you saw his eyes roll to the back of his head, mouth gaping.

Dae-ho’s hips continued bulking up in pleasure, trashing slightly against your touch. When you heard the other two men talk a little loud again, you took your chance to whisper in his ear.

“Fuck my hand like you wish you were fucking my pussy.” And kissed the back of his ear.

He trembled, his thigh shaking from the overstimulation, feeling his cock grow harder and balls heavier with his release, being teased nonstop by you, who had him in a chokehold, literally. You tighten your grip on his cock, making him completely lose it, especially after he felt your other hand traveling down, going back to squeeze and fondle his balls. His hips doing movements of up and down, and inside his head, he was fucking your tight pussy, making you scream his name over and over again, feeling your juices completely drawn his cock inside you. He, unfortunately, would have to leave this fantasy for another hour.

And when you hear the other two men laugh a little loud, you whisper again.

“Cum on my hand. Let me clean you up.”

Dae-ho has to physically cover his mouth with his hand to make sure no noise is leaked as soon as he obey your command, cumming in your hand and his stomach, making a mess on himself but lucky enough that his shirt was lifted enough to not be sticky with his cum, and pants down enough to not get dirty either.

You, after he stops twitching and breathing heavily, brings your hand to your mouth, licking each drop of cum to not waste anything, eyes deep into his’, seeing his adam's apple moving up and down, swallowing dry. You finished licking your fingers, and as promised, went to clean him up.

The man was left momentarily stunned by the move, watching as you went face to face to his cock, licking any drop of cum that you could find, and for the first time, finally engulfing his big length inside your mouth, sucking especially hard in his mushroom-shaped head. You did some quick movements of up and down, almost moaning out loud from the good weight of cock inside your mouth, but considering that he already came and was now sensitive, you removed yourself quicker than what you wanted, and went back to your position, swallowing each drop of cum that you gathered with your tongue, savouring the taste..

You both looked at themselves, breathless and still listening to Gi-hun and Jung-bae happily chat. Dae-ho was the first to chuckle a little, still in disbelief. 

“Let me recover and I will return the favour.” He said, sighing heavily.

“It’s okay, I did because I wanted to.” You whispered back quietly, winking in his direction. Seeing his guilty and adamant expression, you faked a yawn that seemed too convenient. “Besides, now that my belly is full, I actually am sleepy.” 

You snickered, watching him grow red ten times more than before.

And it’s not like you didn’t want it too. Of course you did, but you knew that you could not be silent. So the chances of getting caught would be extremely high. 

When Junhee went back to her mattress on the other side, and found you awake, you both smiled at each other. You, on the other hand, as soon as you laid on your side and tried to get some sleep, you froze and the task of finding a good position to sleep forgotten as soon as you locked eyes with Young-il.

[svetamillss]

You are a teacher's pet🤍

Featuring: Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f), Thanos (Su Bong) x Reader(f), Kang Sae Byeok x Reader(f), Nam Gyu x Reader(f), Cho Sang Woo x Reader(f)

Warnings: age difference, teacher-student relationship, character age can be changed.

A/N: I decided to experiment with this topic, so I apologize if you don't like this.

🤍🤍🤍

Cho Hyun Ju

You are 20 years old, Cho Hyun Ju is 30 years old

In the fourth year of the university, your group's curator changed. Now they are a gorgeous thirty-year-old woman named Cho Hyun Ju. She was a tall brunette in an elegant classic outfit, her face was not bright, but with cute makeup, her hair was straight to her shoulders.

You immediately fell in love with her and don’t stop looking at her. When she told everyone something, you hardly listened, all your attention was focused on the woman, and not on what she says about studying.

When you found out, thanks to rumors, that Cho Hyun Ju used to be a man and only recently ended the transition to a woman, you fell in love with her even more. After all, her strength of spirit has conquered you.

You couldn't stand it and decided to confess your feelings to the woman, so when all your classmates left and you were left alone with her, you told her everything. You were very nervous and afraid that she would tell everything to the rector, but it didn't happen. What happened surprised you the most. The woman accepted your feelings and said that she also liked you right away, but she was afraid of her feelings, because it is wrong for a student to meet a teacher, even if both are adults. Still, the difference of ten years can scare many people.

You decided to discuss everything over a cup of coffee. And decided that for now you will maintain friendly relations and get to know each other better, and as soon as you graduate from university (you need to be patient for less than a year), you will start dating and maybe go to Thailand together, where she always dreamed of.

Now the woman will help you with your studies, but not single you out so that others don't know. Also, while no one is around, she can kiss you on the cheeks or forehead. You are really looking forward to when your kisses will be much closer and more intimate.

Thanos (Su Bong)

You are 17 years old, Su Bong is 23 years old

He became your physical education teacher in the 11th grade. All the girls drooled on him (absolutely from different classes) because he was really a sexy and young teacher.

But he set his eyes on you. You understood this when the man began to praise you and compliment you for your success, and sometimes even gave you as an example.

Your classmates were angry and spread rumors that the teacher fell in love with you. And when the rumors reached him, he didn't keep silent. He confessed everything alone with you. And was already waiting for a complaint to the director that he was seducing an underage girl, but it didn't happen. You didn't tell, because you also started to fall in love with him.

You decided to meet in secret. Your closeness is only kisses and hugs, no sex!

He continues to compliment you in front of everyone that you are sometimes afraid that Su Bong will declassite you, but so far everything is fine.

When a man sees other guys flirting with you, he becomes very angry, but does not get into fights. He has a much better remedy. He will play back on them in physical education class, that the guys will leave a wet place.

- Fuck, how I'm waiting for you to graduate from this damn school to become officially mine. - he says all the time, when you in the women's locker room, he will only kiss you as if he's about to lose you forever.

But you are still afraid that they may find out about your relationship, then you two will come to the end, but so far everything is fine, right?

Kang Sae Byeok

You are 18 years old, she is 22 years old

She became your new English teacher. It so happened that you decided to connect your life with English, so the girl became your tutor.

Each other liked you right away. The girl was not very talkative, so she showed her feelings with her actions. She is always ready to help you, will always support you if something happened to you and you are afraid to tell it to others.

At one of your classes, you confessed to each other and kissed for the first time.

You started dating, but you did it secretly, although you were already 18 years old, but you didn't want unnecessary questions.

There was a lot of intimacy and romance, because you were able to melt the heart of this cold girl, but it's still difficult for her to talk about her love.

You both wait for you to graduate from school and enter the university, because then you will be able to move and live together and no longer hide your love.

- We have a month to be patient and then we can tell everyone that we love each other. - you said happily when you were lying in the arms of Sae Byeok at her house, she just smiled at your words and kissed you on the lips.

She was also really looking forward to this moment.

Nam Gyu

You are 20 years old, he is 25 years old

He was your philosophy teacher, although the subject seemed boring, this guy was positive.

You immediately fell in love with Nam Gyu and began to study his subject diligently so that he noticed you. And you managed to draw his attention, because a few months later he also fell in love with you. He is just afraid to confess, because despite the fact that you were in the last year of university, you two could have had problems.

That's why he was waiting for you to graduate from university, but in the meantime he only helped you in your studies and praised you for your efforts, he also liked to compliment you.

Your friends started joking, saying that Gyu fell in love with you, but you blushed and answered what they were coming up with.

When you graduated, he confessed to you at the prom and said that he would accept any answer, even a slap. But you kissed him on the lips, he was both very surprised and happy (of course no one saw you).

- Wait.. so you mean you love me too? - he asked when he interrupted the kiss.

- From the very beginning of the year, when I first saw you, so I studied hard so that you would notice me. I know it was dangerous, but I couldn't help myself. - you answered blushing.

When you announced your relationship, none of your friends were surprised, because they all knew for a long time.

Cho Sang Woo

You are 19 years old, he is 46 years old

You don't understand how it happened, you thought you were crazy, because falling in love with a man who was 30 years older and who your teacher of higher mathematics at the university, is just absurd. But this is your life.

You were even able to tell him about your feelings, although you understood that he would definitely tell everything to the rector and you would be punished, but he did not do it, instead he began to pay a lot of attention to you: he always turned to you at lectures, helped at tests and asked to stay for a while after his lesson to talk.

You chat about everything in the world, these were casual conversations, but you thought they were very intimate. You and Sang Woo never hugged or kissed, he could only hold you hand for a while, but it was enough for you, because you loved him.

But you had too much age difference, and you couldn't cope with it, that is, he couldn't.

The man transferred to another university which you didn't know. He didn't answer messages and calls, and you had no idea where he lived.

Only after a month of your calls and worries, he wrote you the last message, and then blocked you:

"I'm sorry I disappeared and didn't say anything. You're a good and smart girl, I like you, but I'm too old for you, you still have your whole life ahead of you and don't ruin it on someone like me. I decided to save our destinies from a mistake, so I left you. Forget me and don't look for me. Be happy."

You read this message a bunch of times in tears, but deep down you knew that he was right, he really saved you both.

🤍🤍🤍

[paranoiddreams]

Somno, cnc?, voyeurism💪🏻, Satoru is a SICK FUCK for this

A/n!! - tbh, I just wrote this when I was high asf and the words came out on their own, and it might not even make sense. Idk what demon took over, but here, I hope you FREAKS enjoy this🤭

You’re just trying to take a nap on the couch while the tv plays episode after episode of RuPaul’s Drag Race—that literally all you’re trying to do. But once the sounds of soft grunts, and a shadow over your eyes, breaks through your sleeping state, you slowly wake up to see your roommate standing in front of you on the couch.

He’s not only standing though—he’s standing with his pants on the other side of the room, and his hand stroking his leaky cock furiously.

“Satoru?!” You grumble, coming back to awareness as shock floods through you. What exactly are you seeing right now? You’d ask yourself if you walked in on something you’re not supposed to see but…you didn’t walk in on anything. In fact, Satoru is the one who walked you into this situation.

“Fuck—finally, you’re awake…”

Satoru’s voice is husky, his breath’s coming out as heavy pants while he fucks his tight fist. Your eyes flicker down to his large hand, eyes widening when you see his even larger cock.

“Satoru!” You scream again, this time louder. “What the hell?!”

You try to hide your face in the pillow you were just peacefully snoozing on, but you suddenly feel fingers tangle in your hair and tug your head back, forcing you to look at the sight in front of you again.

“No, don’t be a baby,” Satoru pants, an amused smirk on his face showing off his pearly white canines, “look at me.”

Your gaze drifts back down, almost forcibly, to Satoru’s hand around his hard cock. He slows his strokes when your eyes widen, hissing softly.

“Fuck,” he moans, almost whimpers, “do you know how long I’ve been edging? Can’t even go a few minutes without stopping ‘cause I feel like I’m gonna cum already.”

You feel nearly all of your blood rush to your cheeks at his admission, even more so at the tone of his whiny voice.

“What-I-why??” You stutter, still wondering if this is some strange, sick dream.

The fingers in your hair tighten, lifting your face slightly to force your eyes on his.

“Why? Why what? Why am I stroking my dick, or why am I going to cum so quick?” He laughs, amused by your obviously flustered and confused state.

“Why all of it?!”

Satoru just huffs out a breath, rolling his eyes as if the answer was obvious. “You think you can just lay on my couch and sleep looking like that and I won’t react?”

Your heart is pounding violently, threatening to burst through your ribcage and out your chest. How someone could justify jerking off in front of someone else by simply saying they look attractive when they sleep is beyond you, but despite the horror and humiliation still running through your body, you can’t ignore the ache between your legs now.

Satoru seems to take notice to your flushed response, but instead of a witty remark, he lets out a soft moan, moving his hand over the leaking tip of his cock; he’s about to cum, and you can tell, especially by the way his fingers are tightening in your hair, but you somehow can’t find it in yourself to do anything by stare at his face contorted in blinding pleasure.

Then, before you can even process how fucking absurd this is, you feel something warm grace the flushed skin of your cheeks. You look down to see Satoru’s fist covered in the pearlescent aftermath of his voyeurism, like a shining trophy at the end of a race. His eyes are widened as he looks at what just happened—the evidence is all over your face anyways. Clarity hits him, and he feels a wave of embarrassment flood his body.

But at the same time, the realization makes his cock harden in his sticky hand again.

You just look too pretty like this, all surprised and questioning how this happened; but what makes him even more excited is the obvious signs that he’s not the only one enjoying this…

[herrmannhalsteadproduction]

Buck's at the grocery store buying his umpteenth bag of flour when he sees a very familiar silhouette waiting in line at the cash.

Tommy.

Three months apart and now they finally run into each other?

At two am at the closest twenty-four grocery store Buck could find? When he's dressed in a pair of holey sweatpants and a stained hoodie with dirty hair and a face full of scruff? No cart! Just him and his twenty-pound bag of flour that he's cradling to his chest like a powdery security blanket?

Amazing.

Awesome.

Fucking perfect.

Exactly how he's pictured it.

As Buck gets closer though, his eyes narrow at the sight before him.

Not at all like he's pictured it.

Tommy's shoulders curl inward as he hunches over his cart, head low. His threadbare shorts hang off of him in a way they never would have three months and one day earlier. His feet are shoved into his shoes without socks.

Tommy hates going without socks.

His curls have grown long and messy, lying limp against his scalp.

Buck carefully sidles up beside him, not quite in his field of vision yet, frowning at how pale Tommy's skin is. Practically grey.

He looks like shit.

For one whole moment, Buck wishes he could feel some kind of vindication—gloat, maybe—but he doesn't have the energy.

Or the heart for it.

And one glance into Tommy's cart has him refocused on being incandescently enraged over the bullshit currently sitting in there.

"What the hell, Tommy?" Buck bursts out, making the man jump and whirl around.

"Ev—Buck, what? What are you doing here? What's—what's happening right now?" Tommy stares at him, wide and unblinking, like he's afraid to take his eyes off him.

"What's happening is I'm saving you from this cartload of crap," Buck says, elbowing his way past him to gain possession of the cart.

He shifts the bag of flour to one arm and uses his free hand to pull out the package of bakery donuts that somehow manage to look cracked and soggy all at the same time.

Then the box of cookies that he knows for a fact taste like they're one step away from cardboard.

Then the cake that says 'Happy Birthday, Leo!' and has a seventy-five percent off sticker on it. He side-eyes Tommy for that one.

Tommy makes a face right back.

Buck keeps going, pulling out the lemon loaf that doesn't actually look too bad, but whatever—his is better.

Everything of Buck's is better than this crap.

...Tommy just doesn't know that yet.

"Just stop! For one second." Tommy reaches out to grab Buck's wrist before he can grab the package of—gross—bran muffins. He takes a deep breath before he finally meets Buck's eyes.

"What is this?" he asks again quietly.

"Me, actually stopping you from making a mistake this time," Buck says, yanking his wrist back with a scowl. He falters for a second when his own words register in his brain, but he shakes it off and grabs the muffins out of the cart, dumping them beside the cookies. "This stuff is all terrible. You deserve better, Tommy."

"It's what they have," Tommy said tiredly.

"Yeah, well, I have better stuff at my place." Buck sets his flour down in front of the unimpressed-looking cashier. "Sorry about that," he says, digging out his wallet. "We'll just take this. And these."

"Oh, I'm allowed to keep the oranges?" Tommy rolls his eyes as Buck grabs the bag out of the cart and places them alongside his flour.

"For now," Buck snips back.

Maybe he'll make an orange loaf.

Right after he convinces Tommy to come back to his place and he feeds him edible baked goods and—and maybe they talk and...

Yeah.

This isn't a half bad plan.

He can work with this.

"Just the flour and the oranges," he says to the cashier, pulling his card free as he flashes a grin at Tommy. Feeling it spread wider when the corners of Tommy's mouth twitch reluctantly in return.

He can work with this.

[roanniom]

I just want to suck Eddie's dick so badly 😞

Do That Thing

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, NSFW, oral sex (M and F receiving), drug use

Eddie likes it wet and he likes it noisy.

You once voiced the fact that previous partners had balked at any messiness. Eddie had laughed. He wants you dirty. He wants you sloppy.

So you make sure to give him exactly what he wants. Today you're on your knees in front of him while he sits on a lounger reading a comic and smoking a joint. You know for a fact he stopped paying attention to the comic a while ago, mainly because he hasn't flipped a page in a while.

You have one hand wrapped around the base of his dick while the other slides up and down his shaft. Your mouth pulls up and down on his mushroom head, with your tongue providing a swirling motion ever time you pull off.

After a particularly languid drag from his joint, Eddie drops the comic over the side of the chair. His now free hand comes to rest on the top of your head.

"That's it, baby. Fuck, just like that. How about you wet it a little more for me, huh?"

You do as he suggests and immediately add more saliva. The increased lubrication comes with a more auditory glide. Eddie moans at the sounds. He takes another drag from his joint and throws his head back before puffing out a cloud of dense smoke that you can smell from your place on the floor.

"Do that thing you do with both hands, princess. The - oh fuck yeah." Eddie sinks deeper into the chair when you comply with his request and begin twisting your hands slowly in different directions around his cock as you pull up and down.

"You're getting me there, princess," he says roughly, his hand a pleasant pressure on the top of your head to encourage your movements.

"Mhm?" you hum. You know doing so adds a vibration he can't resist.

"Oh yeah..." Eddie drops his finished joint in a nearby ash tray and grips at the arm of his chair. looking up past the plane of his abdomen you see his chest is flushed. A vein pulses emphatically in his neck.

"Mmmm," you hum again. Purely egging him on now. You feel him growing even harder in your hands, in your mouth.

"You're gonna make me cum, baby," he groans. You take your mouth off of him with a wet pop, making sure to continue the movement and pressure with your hands.

"That's the idea, baby," you all but purr.

You barely have time to fit your lips over his tip again before he's erupting into your mouth. You keep your elbows grounded against his thighs to keep you stable while his hips buck up involuntarily.

"Fuuuuuck..." Eddie moans. It's music to your ears. Music that makes you unbearably wet. This is why you love giving him blow jobs. The surge of power and confidence and achievement courses through your body like the weed Eddie had just smoked. Eddie falls limp back against his chair, an arm over his face, but you take the opportunity to disengage from him and stand.

"Mmm," you hum dramatically, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "How was that?"

"How was it? How was it? I'll let you know when my soul reenters my body, princess," Eddie responds with a hoarse laugh. He lowers his arm from his face to look at you just in time to see you begin to strip. "Oh mother of god..."

"Wanna help me with something, champ?" you drawl. You know he loves this. The shift of power. Switching up tones and dynamics.

In seconds, Eddie is on his knees in front of you, shuffling forward despite the fact that his jeans and boxers are still caught around his calves.

"I'll do anything for you princess," he says with a cheeky grin up at you. He grabs at your naked thighs and you place one hand delicately on his cheek. The other hand you place on the top of his curly head.

"Yeah? You'll do that thing I like?" You echo his previous request, but this time in reference to your favorite thing he does. Eddie looks up at you through his eyelashes as he slides his right hand around your thigh and between your legs so he can swirl around your clit.

"So wet," he says, almost to himself. He circles your clit for a few seconds before sliding down and pushing two fingers all the way into you. In a swift combined motion, he also lunges forward and sucks on your now pulsing clit. The combination of the suction and the immediate prodding, come-hither motion he's employing with his fingers inside of you is exactly what you'd been asking for.

"Holy shit," you hiss. You have to brace your hands against his shoulders to keep your knees from buckling.

Eddie begins to thrust his fingers in and out of you to intensify the feelings.

"Fuck, Eddie. That feels incredible. More." You're being greedy, but you don't care. You did your time on your knees. This is Eddie's turn.

"Mhm," is Eddie's dutiful reply, causing vibrations to ripple through you and causing you to moan.

And he continues to do that thing you like.

~*~ I hope you enjoyed! This one was so fun to write because hooo boy, I got myself with this one. Let me know what part you liked! <3

[misayani]

DOPAMINE — G!P SQUID GAME WOMEN + COCKWARMING HCS

◜ featuring ... kang mi-na (player 196), no eul (guard 011), se-mi (player 380), jun-hee (player 222), young-mi (player 195), kang sae-byeok (s1 player 067)

𔗨 author's note — was supposed to write a cock analysis for each character but i got too shy and then realized that im kinda terrified of dicks. no hyun-ju :) [lowercase intended]

🧷 𝓜isa mentions — @joc3lynx @mymel1008 @justredsw @wlvlurvsfimmia @azansstuff @dvrk-hoon @yersang-dreams @keiradg01

warnings: nsfw [too many mentions of cocks (oops), public sex, exhibitionism, somno / free use, unnie + breeding kink, masochism + knives]

mi na —

𓏲๋࣭࣪˖ cockwarming shameless gf mi-na while on a karaoke date with your girl-friends ♡ [public sex]

- here's the thing, they all don't know you two are in a relationship

- so it's definitely not weird when mi-na asked you to sit on her lap because girl-friends do that !!!

- she's wearing a skirt, you're wearing a skirt .. need i say more?

- mi-na's always shifting you on her lap, solely to make you feel her boner underneath you

- she took the chance when your friends excused themselves to go to the bathroom

- she slipped her already hard cock from her panties and hiked your skirt up so that she can move your underwear aside and finally push it inside you 

- "m-mina they'll come back soon—"   "and? your skirt's covering everything so they won't see a thing."

- when your friends finally came back to the private karaoke room you all booked, party's resumed!

- little did they know, the both of you were having your own fun while they sing their hearts out

- luckily, the speaker was loud enough—too loud actually— to blur your moans out everytime mi-na bucks her hips up

- but other than that, she completely stays still the whole time, making you needy and desperate for any movement

- mi-na doesn't stop you though when you decide to take matters in your own hands and grind yourself on her dick

- she doesn't let you cum though, bc what's the point of cockwarming her then?

- you both stay like that for the entire evening—her whispering dirty things in your ear and then you squirming on top of her.

- "dirty girl. really? in front of our friends? fucking shameless." 

- shs tells you that as if she wasn't the one who initiated the whole thing ???

- uh oh .. ! one of your friends notice the both of you quiet, not socializing and singing with the others.

- "babes! you both good?"

- mi-na smiles, "absolutely," then looks at your state—face flushed while looking down— "although, i think she's had too many drinks, but i'll handle her."

- your friend simply nods and joins back in on the others' conversation so... phew, close call.

- the karaoke date finally ends and then here's you, tired and worn out, even though you just sat down the whole day ??? just on mi-na's cock

"hey, party's over, you still okay?" mi-na whispers while snaking an arm around your waist. a few seconds goes by without any responses coming out from your lips and then she breaks into laughter, "what? have you gone dumb now? i haven't even done anything."

no eul — 

𓏲๋࣭࣪˖ cockwarming strict older gf no-eul while she's working ♡ 

- she tells you to wait until she's done working but how could you?— not when you just woke up from a wet dream, seeing no-eul's side of the bed empty, and dragging yourself to her office just to find her working late, again.

- she ignores you while you're whining and sulking beside her chair. 

- tenses up when she feels your hands gently massaging her shoulders, and then traveling them to her neck, before leaning down to leave wet kisses on the spot below her ear. 

- "stop that." she warns,   "why? is your work more important than me?" 

- she clicks her tongue in annoyance, why do you have to be so stubborn right now? right when she's working?

- you frown when she still won't budge despite your efforts. 

- "please, just need you inside me." you voice out, burying your face on the crook of her neck, before she lets out a sigh and then finally moves her chair back so that you'll have space when you straddle her !!

- a groan slips from her lips once she's finally inside you

"you're not allowed to move. let me finish my work first then i'll take care of you." she speaks, tone strict. you pouted, "huh? i thought you—"      "you gonna stay quiet or should i make you leave?"

- and then she's got you totally quiet before you sighed in defeat and just rested your head on her shoulder, muttering a small 'i hate you' under your breath.

- you started wiggling yourself, resulting to no-eul's hand reaching for your throat and firmly gripping the sides, making you dizzy

"didn't i tell, you're not allowed to move?"    "i was just trying to get comfortable.."    "stop disturbing me if you want me to get this over with faster."    

- "can i at least kiss you, eul? please?"   and of course, how can she deny you more? restricting you from bouncing on her cock was enough—and so she says yes <3

- you start to leave sloppy kisses on one corner of her mouth, while her eyes stay still on the laptop screen behind you

- oops ... you 'accidentally' clench around her, which makes her stop typing

- "i'm sorry eul, i didn't mean to," you apologized softly against her mouth, letting out a yelp when she suddenly turns her attention to you and actually crashing her lips onto yours

- no-eul's not really great with controling herself .. so here's the both of you, making out, while her work was loooong forgotten

- no-eul's hand reaches for her laptop and closes it, before gripping your thighs from under and lifting you up

- she's such a loser. betraying her own words from earlier— "let me finish my work first then i'll take care of you."

- because she's literally pounding into you right here, right now now while standing, not even bothering to take you to your shared bedroom

"you're so damn stubborn"  she chokes out while thrusting hard and deep inside you. 

se mi —

𓏲๋࣭࣪˖ cockwarming bandmate se-mi while inside the music studio ♡ [exhibitionism]

- se-mi can be lewd sometimes .. 

- because what do you mean you're sitting on her cock right now while you're both in the music studio WITH your bandmate, mi-na, inside the soundproof room ????

- your back is facing her as you adjust the controls in front of you while se-mi is literally dying behind you, face red, trying to lift her hips up into you

- but everytime she does, you're totally unbothered—not making even the slightest sound—because you're too focused on what you're doing

"please can we just record the fucking song tomorrow? i can't handle this anymore"      "shut up, i can't focus."

- she gets whiney, but she's kinda enjoying this.

- when mi-na's finally done recording her part, she exits the soundproof room and her gaze immediately lands on the both of you—you on se-mi's lap while she's red as fuck underneath you—and then makes a disgusted face, "ew"

- you guys really need to get a room because wtf

- and then thanos walks inside the studio, not even sparing the three of you a glance as he walks straight inside the soundproof room.

"hey! these two are fucking while we're recording!"  mi-na complains, though thanos was already inside the soundproof room, unable to hear a word she's saying.

- you just laugh, sending vibrations through se-mi's cock, making her grip onto your thighs tightly,  "babe, he doesn't give two fucks." 

- se-mi just hides her face on your neck, slightly biting it, "gonna fucking kill me, you know?" 

- a playful smirk tugs on the corners of your lips, savoring the moment,   "i know." while purposely grinding down on her length

"baby please, can we go now? let's just have nam-gyu do all this work."  se-mi sulks, her right hand under the skirt you're wearing while she rubs your clit. you sighed, "min-su still needs to record his part." cocking your head to the side towards where min-su was sitting down, his palms covering his eyes. poor min-su.

jun hee —

𓏲๋࣭࣪˖ cockwarming girlfriend jun-hee while she's asleep ♡ [somnophilia / free use]

- to get things straight, the both of you had numerous conversations about this before— both parties consenting and agreeing to free use in the relationship.

- and here is one of the moments where the agreement is applied:

waking up from a wet dream, you gently flutter your eyes open before stretching your arms over your head. and then, due to the dream, there's that ache in the space between your legs, your throbbing core clenching around nothing. this early? you huff, your eyes finding their way onto your girlfriend's sleeping figure beside you. 

- slowly grinning to yourself, you move closer, before you start hiking her nightgown up and then pulling her underwear down

she shifts a bit, her face scrunching, before she falls back still again. you carefully slide your own panties down until they reached your toes. 

- once they were finally off, you straddled her with no hesitation, slowly sinking your soaking cunt onto her soft length before resting your body on top of hers, sighing in satisfaction

- jun-hee is a deep sleeper, so she didn't react at all, not even a single twitch, no anything.

- and you were still tired yourself, even though you were horny as hell, so it did not take long for you to fall back to sleep

- hugging her tightly, your eyes slowly closes. her being warm inside you helping you fall asleep better

you wake up an hour and a half later, moans involuntarily slipping from your lips as you pry your eyes open. you realized you're laying on your back now, with your legs pinned down and jun-hee in between them, pumping her cock in and out of you.  "good morning, sweetheart"

young mi —

𓏲๋࣭࣪˖ cockwarming younger bestfriend young-mi while you do her makeup ♡ [unnie + breeding kink]

- baby is such a puppy :( she'd get shy about it at first once you initiated the idea

"are you s-sure, unnie? i don't wanna make you feel uncomfortable.." "it's okay sweetheart, think of it as a repayment! i'm gonna make you pretty, while you make unnie feel good, how's that sound?"

- she then nods slowly, sliding her pants down and revealing her already hard cock, pre cum leaking at her tip

- "so pretty."     "t-thank you..."   "i'm gonna make you even prettier"

- you make her sit on the chair before sinking yourself down,  soft gasps leaving the younger girl's mouth

- "you're so warm, unnie"

- she rests her hands politely on your thighs that were on either side of her lap, while you start applying concealer on the spot below her eyes

- you tease her the whole time ! clenching around her dick on purpose just to see her face scrunch up

- then here's you, being mean, complaining. telling her to stop making expressions so that you won't make a mess of her make-up, as if it was all her fault !!!

- your lips would form into a mocking smile, gently cooing at young-mi whenever she makes those pretty pretty noises

- and then her hands travels their way onto your boobs, gently cupping them over the shirt you're wearing—well, that was before you make her stop and guide her hands underneath it, making her actually feel your boobs.

- you were now applying her blush, making her cheeks even pinkier than what it had been just earlier. (she stares at you with puppy eyes the whole time)

- soon enough, you're finally onto the last step which was applying lipstick onto her lips

- when you were about to do so, she slipped out a hand from underneath your shirt and grabbed your wrist before her cock suddenly twitches inside you

"unnie... i feel something.."   she softly mutters,   "hm?"   tilting your head curiously at her, before realizing something and then chuckling softy,    "are you gonna cum baby?"     she nods, her eyes getting glossier.    your lips form into a satisfied smile, "go on. inside."    

- her eyebrows furrow, looking at you in disbelief, "r-really?"

- not responding, you put the lipstick down on the vanity table, before wrapping your arms around her neck and crashing your lips onto hers

her hips buck up into you while letting out whimpers against your mouth, and then you finally feel it inside you—hot cum painting your walls white—before breaking the kiss and then looking at young-mi, pushing her hair away from her pretty face,   "my good girl."

sae byeok —

𓏲๋࣭࣪˖ cockwarming ex girlfriend sae-byeok while she carves her name onto your thigh ♡ [masochism + knives]

- i'm so sorry please forgive me after this

- saying sae-byeok is mean would be an understatement

- how did you end up here?—crying while sitting on top of your ex's lap, her cock hard and deep inside of you, while she's busy carving your thigh up

could you blame her? you were entertaining and flirting with somebody else at a party—where sae-byeok just happens to also be in—and that somebody wasn't her.

- she pulls you in one of those private club rooms, one that smelled of sex and cigarettes, and drags you to the firm couch, before harshly pushing you down

"sae-byeok what the fuck?!" you yell, your voice barely audible over the blaring music outside, while turning around to look at your ex, only to find her starting to unbuckle her pants

- she just looks at you blankly, but her eyes held something else—hatred and lust—which scared the shit out of you. who knows what she's capable of right now?

- once her pants were off, she walks towards the couch before sitting down,    "strip."

you didn't know what has gotten inside your mind, because all of a sudden, you found yourself sitting on her lap with her length inside you. you glare at your ex as you sniffle,     "fuck you."

- she snickers, "sure."  before pulling out a small compact knife from her pocket

- sometimes you'd ask yourself, what is wrong with you? why the fuck are you getting even more turned on at the sight of her fucking pocket knife

- she glances at you, licking her lips before looking down, seeing her buldge on your lower belly

"i knew you still weren't over me."    she speaks, tone cocky. you scoff,  "you wish. not even three days after our breakup, i was already over you."   

- she raises an eyebrow, "really now?" 

- a loud hiss leaves your lips as you felt her press the blade hard, enough to slice your thigh

- "gonna carve my name on your thigh. you want that slut? for everyone to see you're mine?"

- you look at her with tears in your eyes that were threatening to fall

"fuck you."        "is that all you can say?"

- and then she starts writing, moans leaving your lips at every slice !!

- fortunately for you, the pleasure from her being inside you overshadows the pain from her carving you up

- when it was getting too painful though, you would start grinding down on her, trying to feel more and more pleasure

- but it is strange—the fact that you also feel pleasure from the pain alone—surely, you knew you were fucked up

"fuck— slow- stop, please stop."  you finally cry out, your hand wrapping around her wrist and gripping on it. she looks at you with her eyebrows furrowed. you just stare at her dumbly, drool escaping your mouth. 

- it hurt. more than you'd like to admit it.

- you looked down to your thigh and saw the bloody mess, which made you timid,

- she grabs your hand that was wrapped around her wrist using her free one, and yanks it away, "not done yet. you don't want me leaving it just like this, right?"

- you felt so dirty. many thoughts raced around your head, 'am i gonna fucking bleed out to death?'

soon enough, she's finally done. she looks up at your pathetic state, seeing dried tears on your pink cheeks. she grips your chin tightly, making you look down at her work— 강새벽.

@misayani

[aj-norizz]

Let Me Entertain You- Charles Leclerc x reader

Where the teammate girlfriend of Charles Leclerc thinks the new FIA swearing ban is awful. And when Charles crashes she decides to show the FIA how much she cares

Warnings: use of y/n, swearing (duh), Charles crashing

Drop a message to be on the tag list and please follow, like or repost guys ❤️

Back to Masterlist!

“Hey mon amour,” Charles piped up as you drove together, your hand unconsciously stroking Leo’s golden fur.

“Yes darling?” you replied.

“Have you seen the new swearing rule?”

“Of course i have…everybody on social media has been tagging me in it for the irony…”

“Are you going to abide by it?”

“You goody two shoes darling…am i fuck.”

“Point proven i suppose.”

“Ricky where’s Charles?” your name crackled statically through the radio.

“Second right now Y/N, pushing Max for first.”

“How far am i from Max?”

“Around 5 seconds. You’re too far to push for first but you should be able to hold third unless we need you to defend Charles’ second place.”

You sigh.

You were always used as a ploy for the constructors bid and Charles’ championship challenge.

Despite the fact the man was the love of your life you couldn’t help but know that even you had better chances of winning the championship this season then your boyfriend.

“All heard Ricky…”

You kept battling lap after lap.

You weren’t sure why Ricky had said you couldn’t push for first, there was still around 30 laps to go. You knew deep down inside though.

Ferrari and good team strategies didn’t mix well.

As you were racing past the main straight you noticed something glistening.

“Ricky…there’s some debris on the main straight…they need to stop the race before somebody runs it over.”

“Noted. We’ll see what we can do.”

It wasn’t long before you found yourself on the main straight, staring at the front mirror.

“Ricky! For fucks sake when is the debris being moved? It’s a fucking front mirror as soon as that’s run over it destroys tires!”

There was no response for two minutes.

“Y/N the FIA have given you a penalty for foul and abusive language.”

What the fuck.

You switched your radio off with no intention to turn it on until the end of the race.

That was until you heard of a problem coming through from Ricky.

“What’s going on?!”

“Leclerc’s ran over the debris.”

“Charles…fuck’s sake…”

And then Ricky went deadly silent. Never a good sign.

“Ricky?”

“Y/N you can’t freak out.”

Your heart dropped.

You’d only ever been told that when you had found out Toro Rosso were dropping you.

And fine you had met Charles and become happier than you ever were with Horner but still, those words were never good.

Especially because they were so condescending.

“What is it?”

“Yellow flags, slow down.”

You instinctively slowed down as you passed by the area seeing a car fully in the barriers.

A red car.

“What the fuck! Ricky is that Charles?”

“Y/N-“

“Is it Charles?!”

“Yes…”

“Why are they not stopping the fucking race?!”

“Don’t do anything irrational.”

That was her last straw.

“Red flag! Red flag! Leclerc’s car is on fire!”

AJ parked up- not caring where she was. She saw the RedBull of Max Verstappen do the same ahead of her and the McLaren of Lando Norris behind her slowly grind to a halt.

The flames were blinding.

The 19 drivers all stood together on the grass, Lewis listening to coverage to try and hear the latest.

“From what we can hear the flames are tame and are only in the back of Leclerc’s car…but here’s the question. Where are the marshals and where are the FIA?”

You stood in silence.

“Max you know where the FIA office is the best…i need to pay a visit after the race.”

“Are you sure?-“

“Franco you’re so innocent man…” Max laughed. “AJ is more or less the reason the fucking stupid swearing ban got put in.”

“Oh shit!” Carlos yelled.

The fire had spread- engulfing the whole car.

No.

No.

Your first instinct was to lunge.

To rush to Charles’ car.

But Max’s grip was too hard to escape.

“Maxie! Max! Let me go! Let me go!” you screamed- a mixture of agony and annoyance coating your voice.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?!”

And that’s when the FIA finally arrived.

Charles was pulled out of the car and that’s when Max let you go.

“Charles! Charlie!” you called out, hoping for some sort of response.

Silence.

You tried to follow the medial car but an FIA superior stopped her.

The fucking audacity.

You couldn’t wait for that media pen

You were waiting in the media pen when the first interviewer walked over with a slight smile.

“Miss Y/L/N. How do you feel about your penalty for swearing and the new introduction of the rule?”

“It’s fucking bullshit. This isn’t fucking Disney Channel- we are grown adults. If they’re so worried about us swearing in life or death situations then maybe they should invest more into the kids channel.”

“I see…and how is the team feeling about Charles’ crash?”

“We’re quite worried…i’m hoping to get all my media buries wrapped up quick enough so that i can go and see him wherever he is…hopefully the team will announce a statement as soon as we know…” you answered, a slight smile appearing on your face as you knew the interviewer had a script to follow but was also being as respectful as an interviewer can get.

“Well i won’t hold you for much longer…but any final message for the FIA?”

“If you think this new little rule will stop me from swearing then you can suck my hairy cock.”

The interviewer choked as you smirked and flaunted off- ready to see your boyfriend.

Charles laughed as you explained to him what had happened in the media pen as he slowly sat up in his hospital bed.

“You are crazy mon amour.”

“Crazy in love.”

“You are so corny.”

“That’s what you love about me,” you quipped with a smile.

“Who am i to deny that?”

“I was so worried Charlie…” you whispered as you softly rested your forehead against his.

“Oh mon amour…”

“I know Charlie…”

“Know?”

“I know you’re scared of the fire…”

You smirked as you walked into paddock, the media eagerly awaiting your arrival.

“Miss Y/L/N!”

“Y/N!”

“Over here!”

“A minute please!”

You just skipped past into the Ferrari garage.

Ricky smirked. “What a little performance you put on him?”

“I did do GCSE drama.”

“Grade 9?”

“Grade 8 actually but i was robbed-“

“The FIA are furious.”

“Let them be.”

She noticed the Netflix cameras zooming in on her and Ricky’s conversation especially after Charles wandered over, his arms engulfing your shoulders as he kissed your hair from behind.

“What are you going to do mon amour?”

“I’ll let them complain.”

Ricky laughed- a proper laugh.

“They want a statement.”

“A statement?” Charles echoed in confusion.

“I’ll give them a statement,” AJ laughed. “FIA, let me entertain you.”

“Yes?”

“If you stop my swearing i’ll stop my driving…i’m not 16 anymore…stop treating me like one.”

Charles smiled in pride.

“If they want to treat me like a child i’ll drive like a child.”

“Come on you two!” Fred called out, rushing them to get into the cats for quali.

AJ smiled as Charles wrapped his arm around you.

“Ready to put on a show mon cheri?”

“I’m always ready to entertain.”

[star-suh]

When the Nerd’s a Fuckboy

Jake Sim x Male Reader

an: just realized part of this fic is similar to the minho bit in the week of wonders one so forgive me for recycling material 😭😭

—

yn has been failing his math subject on college, “why the fuck did i choose this degree when i hate maths so much” he cried in the shoulders of his friend sunghoon, “because you are a dumbass” he replied unfazed. “ugh.. whatever” yn blurted out while holding his chest, showing to his friend how much his words hurted him. “instead of being here crying, why won’t you ask one of your classmates, the most intelligent perhaps, to help you with the subject?”.

“hmm the smarter one… who’s the smarty pants in my class?” yn was lost into thinking about it that sunghonn thought he was simply dissociating, “oh fuck no, IT’S JAKEE!!” he yelled making everybody who’s passing by to turn their heads towards the pair of friends, sunghoon covering his eyes with his hand, “the fuck” he murmured embarrased. “sorry by the way but i can’t ask him to help me”, yn exclaimed, “why?” the other asks. “he’s just too scary to approach, he’s a smart guy but he gives off bad boy vibes like a fuckboy”.

“well that sounds off, how can a nerd be a fuckboy. aren’t you just overreacting yn?” sunghoon says with curiosity in his voice, “accompany me to the classroom, you'll see him there”.

“fuck he does give those vibes ynnie, he for sure likes it rough”, “oh my god sunghoon shut up” yn's face lit up in a shade of red, “go to your classroom pervert”. sunghoon waves a goodbye while laughing his ass off. “is he like that?” yn murmurs in a low voice when entering the classroom. 

minutes passed and yn was indecisive if talking to jake or not, the idea sunghoon implanted on his brain not leaving him alone, it's like a ghost coming time to time to haunt him. jake is such a hot guy that everyone who sees him from afar would think he's the bully of the class but they get surprised when they see how he's so nerdy. “h-hi” yn greeted jake, “hello” he greets back while still eyeing the notes written on his notebook, “i was wondering if you umm… could help me with math” yn’s whole body still, nervousness taking over his body. “why should i do that?” jake asks making yn gasp in surprise, if he was in an animated comedy he surely would be animated like a piece of glass shattering. he tries to laughs the awkwardness off, “you're the top student and i really.. really need to pass it with good grades”, “not convincing enough” he replied immediately. ‘fuck why does he has to be like that’ he thought and seeing there's no other way to convince him he took a desperate measure. he pulled his jeans right above his knees so he can bend them properly and kneel in front of jake, clasping his hands together he then proceed to say, “please help me, i beg. i’ll give you anything in return”.

something was awoken in jake, seeing yn kneeling in front of him, with those pouty lips and cock sucking eyes. he needs to have more of that, he needs to take yn. no, he has to ruin yn. jake was one of those smarty pants boys with a high libido so his hornyness was at max level every day, this can be proven when seeing his phone full of dating apps and how almost everyone in the classroom was head over heels for him knowing how good he was in bed, hell, even some teachers and staff members of the college were like that from him, truly a nerdy manwhore. so naturally he has to ruin yn expeditiously.

“anything?” jake asks, his tone laced with lust and depravity but yn wasn't as dumb as he looked like, he knew exactly what jake was asking for but nonetheless he decided ro play that game too.

“yes anything please” he keep on with that act because at the end of the day he's gonna learn something and will enjoy it too so it was a win-win to him but oh boy he doesn't know what's coming to him.

—

“what's the answer?” jake's bangs sticked to his forehead due to the sweat, the frame of his glasses falling off of his nose bridge but he quickly fixes it, he licks his lips “answer me slut” the sound of the spank echoed in the room, his hand imprinted on yn's butt cheek, who was sitting on the other's dick with his back facing jake.

“i-i don't rememberrr” yn gasped, letting his sweaty and marked body fall to the floor but with jake's meat still inside him, the nerd has been obliterating his hole the past hour. everytime he messes up one of the 10 questions on the sheet, jake punishes him and made him start again but with a new sheet of questions. “i won't be able to focus if you keep hitting my prostate” yn whimpers. “or you're just messing up because you love my dick stretching this pussy. even a high schooler could resolve this sheet in 15 minutes” jake pulls out his dick and quickly replaces them with his digits. four of them entering at once on the gaping pink hole, smeared in saliva and lube. “or maybe you're just dumb as a fucking rock” the top adds.

yn's head rests on the floor, no strenght left in his body, a pool of drool forming on the floor, “at least give me a kiss” he pouted, “i don't kiss my hook ups” the nerd replied.

“commme onnn~” jake slaps yn's cheek, “four fingers were enough for you to get fucked dumb?”, “n-n..noo~... i just need to-” he was cut off when jake put his fingers on his mouth, “ah ah ah ah ah.. you can't get distracted dumbslut but i'll let it pass this time. meanwhile i think on something to help you keep tasting your boypussy juices”.

jake's dick slid up and down on top of the other's pulsating hole, the burning friction making it shiver in pleasure as if it's asking for more, “hungry pussy” he blurted out, “haven't had one like that for so long”.

“jake pleashee~ help me with thish and then you c-can fu-fuck me all you wanttt~” yn tried to convince jake so he can rest a little but to no avail, “or i'll fuck you right now and then we study” he slaps his tip on top of the hole, then introduces only that part and starts whiping his dick with his hand, the vibration provoking squelching sounds that were like music foe jake's ears, “god how much i love a wet pussy”. “ish not a pusshyy~” yn talks back and it's received with another harsh spank, his ass bright red already, “it's a pussy, my pussy now” jake slams himself onto yn drawing a loud cry from the bottom, “FUCKK!! sho big~”, yn's eyes rolles back and his tongue was out, “look at you, all dumb over my cock”.

jake pulls yn towards him, locking him with his arm around his neck, bulging veins decorating that pretty skin. the headlock wasn't that hard but it has the right amount of pressure to choke yn. the dizziness making him squirm and by consequence it made his hole grip hard jake's dick. “holy fuck, i'm gonna nut in this boypussy” jake grunted, pistoning his hips faster and harder completely ruining that gaping hole.

“fill me up. fill me up” yn begged, jake’s dick throbbing inside him sending waves of pleasure throughout his body, “fill thish pusshy up. to the brimmm~”. the slurred words plus the beggin made jake's dick twitch, his thrusts becoming sloppier, an in an impulsive act he brings yn’s face towards him to kiss him –breaking his 'rule’–, his tongue eager to explore inside yn's oral cavity. in one of those sloppy thrusts he hit yn's sweet spot so hard that it made him orgasm right there –cumming hands free– the white liquid spilling over his body and then running down his shaft to drip on top of jake's balls.  jake spurted his spooge inside, riding his high while still buried on yn with a few more thrusts. he then let go of the headlock letting the other catch some breath. jake let's himself fall to the floor and yn plopped on top of him, tired he closed his eyes, while being caressed by jake's soothing heartbeat sound.

“what the-” yn woke up, scared. was that all a dream? he was asking himself mentally, “no, it wasn't a dream, get ready ‘cause we need to finish this sheet” jake said with a monotonous, cold voice, completely different at the beast who rearranged his guts moments ago, ‘what the fuck can he read minds now?’ yn thought, furrowing his eyebrows and his eyes narrowing at the nerdy boy. “i can't read minds, you're just predictable”.

“fuck you” yn started to mumble curses towards the other while going to the bathroom limping. jake just stares at him, his usually calm and cold expression changes to a smirk inmediately afterwards, he then fixes his glasses and direct his stare towards the piece of paper in front of him, licking his lips in the process.

[starzify]

pain *ೃ༄

pairing sam x angel!reader

warnings smut | fingering | p in v unprotected (wrap it before you tap it HAHA) | reader is innocent

MASTERLIST

You’ve been grumpy all day, unsure of the reason but pondering the rush that filled your blood whenever you kissed Sam, puzzled by this new different sort of heat that you've been feeling lately. Your panties have been a little wetter than normal when you'd come home and you thought it was some kind of illness.

Sam on the other hand was far from innocent, he knew exactly what you were feeling. He liked having you as his little angel. After all, he looked huge besides you, making his desire of touching you increase more and more.

You had very serious attachment issues, needing to be close to him at all times to be fully fulfilled and happy. Even though he tried to use that as an advantage, you were not very fond to touch him sexually. Whenever he'd take a step further, you would just push his hand away or make up an excuse. Maybe because you felt a little dirty, a little naughty. Angel and sex being in the same sentence never made sense to you. It also didn't help that he looked giant beside you. No matter how powerful and strong you were, you felt like he could easily crush you whole with his hand if he really wanted to.

Though you were both happy in this relationship, Sam wanted to move a little forward. He wanted to feel you and your body. But he never did, afraid it would demolish your innocence and your fragility. what you didn't know at the time was that his hands would easily help cure your little "illness".

"Alright, lets go home" he said taking you by the waist after you'd shown Dean some attitude which was not very usual of you. "Why?!” you whined, annoyed with his bossiness. “Baby, come on.” You gave in, following him to the door of the apartment. The walk home was rather odd. When a girl gave you a disgusted glance at you, you were fed up. “Fuck yo-“ your sentence got cut short when your boyfriend picked you up and put you over his shoulders, something that happened more often than you would think. "What is up with your attitude recently?" he questioned his sweet and fragile girlfriend that had recently developed a strange habit of taking back.

You were now sitting on Sam’s lap reflecting about what just happened. He would never admit it but your usual straddle of his lap would always leave him rock hard. At first, he would just try to hide it but after seeing that you were rather naive, he never really hid it anymore. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" he questioned after a long minute of silence "it’s just embarrassing" "Why would it be embarrassing, baby? You can tell me anything." You sighed "It’s just that…i've been feeling hot lately. Especially when i see you or when you kiss me. When i get home and go to the bathroom, I’m all soaked down there" You began sobbing in the crook of Sam’s shoulder, convinced that something was wrong with you. Sam, on the other hand, had a huge smirk on his face. Who would've thought that his ego would go up in less than 5 minutes?

"Where does it hurt baby? Here?" He asked, putting a hand on your stomach. "Lower" He lowered his hand, playing with the waistband of your shorts. "Can i take these off?" You nodded. That action reveals the sight of your glistening pussy, something he had never seen before but certainly fantasized about. You unexpectedly take his hand and place it right on top of your clit, throwing your head back and moaning at the slight touch. Sam knew your vessel wasn’t a virgin but you mentally were. “Let’s go to my room." He whispered, taking your hand and leading you to your room. He shut the door behind him. "Do you wanna learn how to relieve this feeling, baby? I can teach you.” Your legs trembled as you eagerly nodded. You both sat on the bed, facing your front to the mirror. "Open your legs, sweetheart" He whispered in your ear, giving you goosebumps on your skin. "There are plenty of ways to feel good. You can do it like this…" He muttered, rubbing your clit slowly as you let out a sigh of relief. “You can do this too…" He teased a finger to your core before entering it, pumping it in and out of you which elicited a moan from you. “You wanna learn more?" He offered and you nodded eagerly.

And there you were, watching him layed down on the bed with his massive cock sprung out. "It won’t fit, Sam" you said concernedly, examining his length. “Come on, you haven’t even tried the best part yet. You’ll feel so much better, my love." He beckoned you to come over and you listened to him, crawling on top of him and aligning his dick with your wet entrance. "Just sit on it, trust me.” He looked at you with reassuring eyes and that’s what did it for you. You nervously lowered yourself onto him, letting out a moan that’s almost pornographic. "It’s too big, i can’t do it.” You only had the tip in but that already too much for you. "That’s just the tip, baby. You’re not even halfway there." You exhaled, sinking down completely. “There you go…” He smiled proudly. “My beautiful girl took all of my cock huh?” You stayed silent, trying to catch your breath first. You felt a stinging pain, falling forward on his chest. “You gotta move baby” he whispered in your ear.

You started to bounce up and down his cock, loud moans escaping from your mouth each time you made a movement in the slightest. He loved the sight of you being cockdrunk and he would pay any amount of money just to see it for the first time again. You quickly switched positions, him being on top of you. The movement of his hips speeded up. “Sam!” You cried out as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten. “Shit!” He exclaimed, pulling out and releasing himself on your tits. He laid down beside you as you both panted. “Did I fix the pain, angel?”

tags: @ultravi0lence14 @bluemerakis @frosttbitessam @lanadelreyscokewhor3 @beausling @figthoughts @deansbeer @deanangel @titsout4jackles @haunteres @inspiredangel @pointocean @whisperingdaze @misatxox

cassie chats: sam x angel!reader is so underrated what the flip dude 🙁

[orchidseason]

where'd you put those keys? we can share one seat.

ellie w x f!reader

you and ellie fucking in all the postions listed in sports car by tate mcrae

warnings 𐙚 FILTHY SMUT/SEX, word count 2.9k, exhibition (car, alleyway, center of a room, beach), watched masturbation, penetration/oral sex (r!receiving), strap called dick, riding/doggy/missionary, overstimulation/high sex drive, making out, grinding, modern!au, established relationship, not proofread

In the alley in the back

Her body was pressed against yours–leaving you stuck between her and the concrete wall in front of you. Her hand was wrapped around your neck, the other–the tattooed one–was on your waist–tugging your hips back to collide with hers, trusting her length back inside you. Each one shoving against that spot that had you fumbling to keep yourself upright, knees growing weak. 

All the sound around you–the club, the chatter–and she was focused on the ones coming from you. 

“Mmm… mm Ellie.. Els…! Ellie…” 

There was a slight nudge at her heart, the concern of getting caught–and the repremends that may follow. It was present, but it had the opposite. Rather than fear, you both felt adrenaline, a surge of heat. She didn’t even try to quiet you, didn’t try to slow her hips when the sounds of your wet cunt got louder. 

She was quiet herself, enthralled with how you looked. Your back arched, face pushed against the wall, bottom lip dropped open, fingers digging at the wall, legs shaking–spread so wide for her. Just for her. Only for her. She almost wanted someone to find you two, to see how well she took care of you–her hips moving quicker at the thought. Her voice, rough and scratchy, brushed against your ear–whispering praises, describing how you looked. 

“You take me so well,” she murmurs, kissing at your shoulder. “So well, baby.”

Her hand at your waist snakes down to your clit, stimulating it right along with her thrusts–elevating how you were feeling. Your hums before have turned into gasps, choked moans. Her steady pace and finger working at your clit had you squeezing around her length, feeling as hot as ever. Your head falls back onto her shoulder, back arched as much as possible. 

“Oh fuck…oh fuck…! Ellie–!” you whine and she shushes you. 

“I know, I’m here. I’m here.”

Your body shook with tremors as the climax washed over you, Ellie’s heavy breathing hitting your ear–her thrusting coming to a stop. 

In the center of this room

It’s so extremely unprofessional, immature, and unrefined to fuck in the center of a room. But here you were at some dinner, in the center of a nice restaurant–and Ellie’s hand was between your legs underneath the table. Your hands gripped her wrist, your chest rising and falling faster than normal. 

She had slipped her hand onto your thigh by the start of the night. Not even halfway through the dinner and it was between your thighs, middle and ring finger rubbing at your core. You were squirming around in the chair, struggling to keep your thighs spread as she worked you up. When nobody was looking, she would whisper in your ear hotly–dirty phrases that brought out subtle changes in you. The way you’d clench around nothing, gasp, grip her wrist in a bruising hold. 

There were people beside the two of you, but with the table cloth and angle she had her hand–it was covered completely. Just her two fingers moved, rubbing at your sensitive bundle of nerves. Her voice reached your ear, her lips brushing as she spoke, “quiet, the others may hear.” She said it at the right time, knowing you were reaching your orgasm. 

You bit the inside of your cheek, eyes almost rolling back at the euphoric feeling washing over you. Your body fell limp, head resting in the crook of her neck as the tingling sensation fills you. You walked out of that dinner with your inner thighs glistening with arousal under your dress. 

We could share one seat.. with the windows rolled down

Pulled over on the side of the road, she had you on her lap–her lips rendering you dizzy. It was dark, the headlights on the car turned off. It started with a night drive, and halfway through she had to find some secluded area in the forest to park her car. Her hands were on your waist, moving your hips in circles down on her. 

You were growing more and more aroused from the way she kissed you. Aggressive, passionate–pushing you to grip onto her hair, tugging her back again and again. Lips meeting one another in pure need, not letting the other breathe. She moved her hands away from your waist to unhook her pants, pulling them and her boxers down–just to pull her strap out. She did everything while kissing at your neck, pulling whimpers from you. 

When she was sure you were ready, pressing her fingers into you a few times, she angled her length with your cunt and pulled you down onto her. 

You gasped and slapped a hand against the fogged window. The activities inside the car were way too hot–contrasting the coolness in the air outside. Each inch was put in until it rested right against your cervix, splitting you on her length–fully taking the air out of your lungs. 

She fucked you sensless. She moved you up and down, bounced you on her length. She kissed you breathlessly. Her hands were on the back of your neck, keeping you still for her so she could nip at your bottom lip. She had you practically screaming, moans so loud it had her soaking her own boxers and probably the car seat beneath her. 

You shudder, hands gripping the headrest, “o-oh shit… mmm… ellie, don’t stop. Don't ever stop. Don’t fucking stop–oh!”

Her expression was one of pleasure and ego, a smirk laced in her grin. She kept you on her length, continuing her pace no matter if you’ve come already. Unbeknownst to you, the windows were rolled down–your pleas and cries of her name filling the surrounding area. It wasn’t one, not two, not three–but four rounds until she rolled them back up and held your exhausted and sore body against hers. 

On the corner of my bed

Your hands were gripping the sheets beside your head, head tilted back–shifting back and forth. Ellie had your thighs in a vice grip, arms wrapped around them. She held you still, not allowing you to move an inch. Her muscles flexed each time your hips or legs jerked, eyes snapping up to you. 

Her tongue was lapping at you–pushing inside you. She had you whimpering, crying her name out. All you saw was the blurry ceiling or pure black when you shut your eyes. Each lick, hum, press of her tongue was intentional.

“You love it like this don’t you,” she says against your wet core, pressing a kiss to your clit to watch you shiver. “Always go crazy for my tongue.”

You nod, too fucked out to even try to respond coherently. She’s been teasing you, keeping you on the brink of pleasure. Worked up that each stimulation felt like heaven, but she kept you at a hairs length from an orgasm. It felt amazing, and you truly wished you could stay here forever. She knew your body was like a backroad, working you up so fast. She knew exactly what setting, what words, and what actions had you weak in the knees for her. There’s no question why each session usually had three to four sessions following. 

The reason why this was her own personal favorite was how she got to truly feel each reaction from you. Every clench around her tongue, how wet you got, your taste, your hips circling on her tongue–it was incredibly arousing.

Just now–when she felt you clench around her tongue–she didn’t stop. She moves it up your folds until she presses it against your clit, humming against it. Your jaw tightening, hands gripping the sheets so much they’re bunched up in your hands, eyebrows furrowed. Each second in overstimulation had you so weak, yet you begged for more. 

Oh, and maybe on the beach

The bikini you had on, you should’ve known it would’ve set her off. It had a similar reaction in you as well, heat swirling in your lower abdomen at how her gaze darkened in intent. That night on the beach, under the moonlight–she had you straddling her face. The only thing that hid the two of you was a large rock. 

Her body was laid on the said, legs bent–while you sat atop of her face. She left the bottoms on for a bit, teasing you over the fabric. She laughed at your pitiful whimpers, pleading for her to stop teasing. 

“Don’t tease…. please–”

She only rolls her eyes, pulling your bottoms to the side and licks your cunt directly. The difference between with and without the fabric felt incredible. Her kisses, sucks, and licks on your clit now were much more defined, clear–it felt so good. You dug your fingers into the sand, hips jerking at how she was making you feel.

“Ellie–!”

“Shhh, I got you,” she whispers, continuing her ministrations against you. Your fluids were leaking onto her face–down her nose, over her lips. She’d have it as lip gloss if she could. 

“Aah.. ahh please. Please keep going, don’t stop… feels so fucking good–”

As if she’d ever want to stop. 

You could do it on your own while you're looking at me

She sat on a chair across from where you were on the bed. The intensity in her eyes was intoxicating, a hidden depth that seemed to see straight through you. You match her gaze, pulling your shirt up and over your head. She says nothing, eyes darting all around you. Your eyes, your breasts held in your bra, your stomach, your neck– 

You grin. With a turn, you push your hips out towards her–giving her a glimpse of what was under your pencil skirt. Your cunt showing through the white lace underwear you were wearing. That was all was needed for her to start rubbing her thighs together–already hot and bothered.

Dropping the skirt to the ground, you climbed onto her lap–eyes never leaving hers as you drag her hands up your body, guiding them sensually. You couldn’t hold back the shiver that escapes you at the look in her eyes, how her pupils are blown in desire. 

Next second you’re pulling away–standing in front of her to strip off the last bit of your undergarments. Scooting back on the bed, now completely bare, you maintain eye contact. The moment you spread your legs, her eyes dart there. With a hand reaching down between your thighs, you bring your finger onto your clit–circling it.

Your head falls back as you use your own fingers to work yourself up. You play with your clit, push a few into yourself–gasping at the feeling. While you’re laid out on the bed, legs spread and playing with yourself–she’s matching your pace, touching herself to the sight of you. The show you give her makes her feel like she’s doing it for the first time, like she’s a fresh teenager experiencing arousal. 

Watching you feels like standing too close to an open flame, the heat of your presence drawing her in, making it impossible to look away. You’re like a drug to her—something she craves even when she knows she should pull back, something that fills her veins with a dangerous kind of need.

Her eyes track your every movement, hungry for more, the warmth spreading through her like wildfire. Each shift, each subtle gesture, stokes the fire inside her, intensifying the pull she can’t resist. She feels it deep in her chest—this heat, this craving, this connection that’s more than just desire. It’s all-consuming. 

When you come undone in front of her, she’s climbing on top of you–continuing to wreck you until the alarm you set on your phone to wake up for work rings. 

taglist // @kaykeryyy

[bigification]

Hey there would you like to try out these special perfumes? I can guarantee you will feel like a muscle daddy without even need to lift any weight. Some minor physical changes are just slight side effects don't worry about it.

"Some minor what? Sorry it's loud in here, I couldn't quite hear what you said."

I get on my top toes, trying to get closer to your level so I can hear you better.

"Some perfume? Oh... sure I might as well if it's free."

I grab the small black bottle of perfume and spray it on my wrist to test what it smells like.

"Oh god, that smells awful. Is that... sweat?"

I cough as the pungent smell engulfs me. I violently rub my wrist to get rid of the smell, but it only seems to be getting stronger.

*RIIIIIIIIPPP*

The sound of fabric ripping distracts me from the smell. The sound came from my sleeves, which are now torn to shreds.

"Is my arm... bigger than before?"

I poke and prod my now rock solid biceps as they continue to grow. I stare for a few seconds, mesmerized by the sight of my arms swelling, but I snap myself out of it.

"What is happening to me?"

Why am I growing? Why do I reek? Why can't I remember how I got here? All questions that are running through my mind. I can't think about that right now though. My clothes feel so tight.

*TEEEEAAAAARRRRRRR*

The sound of fabric tearing once again echoes around me. I look down to see my shirt has fallen to the floor in pieces, leaving me shirtless. Not that I mind showing off my bod, I've been hitting the gym so I could show it off. Wait, hold on a minute, I don't go to the gym. I look down at my swelling pecs and wonder how they got that big, and when did I get such a ripped six pack. It's because I earned it at the gym. Yeah, of course I go to the gym every day.

"I'm having trouble thinking, but I must've just had a sick workout if I smell like this."

I giggle to myself, breathing in my own stench. Of course I'm proud of it, it's a sign of hard work dedication.

*POP!*

I watch as the button on my fly flings across the room. It distracts me from admiring my upper body. My thighs expand until my jeans are bursting at the seams, and I feel the pressure build as my ass perks up. It doesn't take long for my jeans to also end up on the floor in pieces.

"Why does this feel so good bro."

My now massive man hands slide down my crotch as my once average dick starts to grow. Adding inches by the second, it sticks straight up past my belly button. Finally settling at a monstrous 10 inches long and as girthy as a pop can.

*SNAAAPPPP*

With comic timing, my feet burst through my shoes as they grow from a modest size 10 to a hulking size 16. But the euphoria of watching my muscles expand in front of my eyes is interrupted by a sudden lethargic feeling. I'm not as spry as I was in my twenties. Wait no, I'm in my twenties now. Well that can't be right, I just celebrated my 45th birthday. Who gives a fuck how old I am if I'm built like this.

"I gotta check these gains out bro."

I turn to the mirror beside me, and flinch when I see my reflection. My face... it's different I think. I run my hand through my thinning hair and over my five o'clock shadow. It feels so new but so familiar. The square jaw, wide nose, and wrinkles show the years, no, decades I've worked to have a sick bod like this.

"You like what you see, son?"

My gruff voice echoes around the room as I start to show off my bulging muscles. I love showing off to pipsqueaks like you, you're the perfect height to stare at my muscle tits. Don't feel bad about it, most guys are.

"You got something for me? A cigar? Nah bro, that shits not for me."

I would never put poison like that in my body unless it made me bigger. My body is a temple. But... now that you mention it, I am kind of craving a cigar right now.

"Damn that shit smells kinda good tho. It's a Cuban cigar? Give me that."

I snatch the massive cigar from you and stick it into my mouth.

"Got a ligh-"

I'm interrupted as you pull out a match.

"Old fashioned, I respect that bro."

I take a deep breath in, really letting that smoke settle in my lungs. I don't smoke often, so I gotta make the high worth it. Though something feels different this time, I can feel the smoke coating my lungs.

"What is happening? Side effects?"

I look at the bottle of perfume and see written in bold, "Do not smoke or take any drugs while using this product." I continue reading.

"Side effects may include; weight gain-"

I feel my stomach drop as I'm reading it. I look down in horror as I see a distended muscle gut where my abs used to be.

"Hormone imbalance."

My pecs swell into a pair of man tits that hang over my gut and my nipples perk up, making them impossible to hide under a shirt. My ass also widens as it becomes more soft and rounded. Worst of all, I feel my balls shrivel up like prunes. I quickly grab a pair of gym shorts that are conveniently resting beside me. Not many men are 6"6 and 300 pounds like me, how lucky that there was a pair of shorts that fit me.

"Excessive body hair."

I can feel an intense itchiness as my once hairless body is covered head to toe in a thick forest of salt and pepper hair. Especially around my chest and gut. I can also feel my five o'clock shadow grow into a bushy goatee and mustache.

"Male pattern baldness."

A cold sensation engulfs my head as my hairline starts to rapidly recede, even more than it already had. My hairline moves further and further back until I'm left with a strip of short and thin hair on the back of my head.

"Addiction."

My body suddenly feels drained, like I have a severe fever. I instinctively pull my cigar to my mouth and take a deep breath in. The smoke fills my lungs, and just like that I feel great again.

"Why are you still staring, kid. You really want a piece of all this?"

I grab you by the collar, letting you smell smoke off my breath and the sweat from my skin.

"Only real men can handle me. So why don't we fix that."

I yank you closer to me before pulling out the perfume and spraying it into your face. It makes me smile when you try to brush away the pungent fragrance.

"The smell will grow on you, son."