#i need to do work but i need to calm down

[m0llygunn]

a job well done (eddie munson x fem!reader one-shot)

summary: long-term admirer, recent tutor — you find out eddie's failing gym. in an ode to help him, your expertise expands beyond just textbooks — to your fortune, he teaches you something you've been dying to learn too

contents: 18+, smut!!!, porn with plot, lots of ball action <3, oral (m receiving, mentions of f receiving), pet names and praise (baby, good girl), somewhat-inexperienced!eddie, tutor!reader an: i made an $8k mistake irl so heres 8k words that i wrote to forget about it (just kidding (not abt the mistake, that's very real) i started writing this in july 2023 but recently rewrote most of it to make it into a big ol' one shot-ish thing) wc: 8.5k

“You’re failing gym?” you gasp, jaw dropping as your eyes scan over his report.

“No!” he replies, trying to steal the envelope and its contents from your hands. You turn your body just in time for him to grasp at nothing but air. 

You started tutoring Eddie about a month into the semester. He’s been a willing participant for the most part and that’s why when he kept coming up with excuse after excuse for why he didn’t have his midterm report you knew something was up. 

You took it upon yourself to do some investigating. Nothing invasive, just when you got to his place for a regular tutoring session, you decided to look through his bag while he was in the bathroom. On his bedroom floor, filing through the bags endless messy contents, you eventually came across the familiarly coloured yellow envelope and helped yourself to a peek at what he was keeping a secret from you. 

Mere moments later, he was back. He immediately noticed what you had in your hands and crashed to the floor trying to get it away from you. Evidently, a failed attempt. 

“You have a — oh god, not just a D, a D minus, Eddie.” 

“That’s not failing,” he mumbles under his breath. You wave him off before dropping his report to the floor in front of you. He grabs it, crumples it into a ball, and petulantly tosses it to the other side of his room. 

“You never even told me you were taking gym.”

“Cause how’re you supposed to help with gym?”

“The tests! There’s a whole health portion, I could’ve been helping you with that,” you say, getting worked up over it. Eddie’s been doing so well, this was truly blindsiding.

“Yeah… cause I really want help from you with the health portion,” he grumbles sarcastically. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means exactly what it sounds like it means,” he shrugs. 

If you weren’t paying attention, you might think he was angry — maybe even being mean. Luckily, you’re always paying attention to Eddie Munson, and you see the way his face flushes to a bright, crimson red. His annoyance is actually just embarrassment — which is good — at least he has some level of remorse for his failing grade. You can work with that. You take a breath, exhaling it slowly, forcing yourself to calm down. 

“Show me what you’re working on.”

“No,” he shakes his head, reaching into his bag, shuffling around some papers before tossing a heavy textbook your way. “Let’s just do math.”

“No, you have a B minus in math now, that doesn’t need help. You need help in gym.” you reply, tossing the textbook back at him. 

“I don’t.”

“Eddie, you do.”

Sitting up to your knees, you reach into his bag once more, taking out his binder and dropping it to the floor in a pointed thump. He mumbles some kind of disagreement, spine going stiff with his hesitancy to let you go through his stuff some more, but he doesn’t make any attempts to physically stop you. 

You flip through the disorganization that you’ve told him countless times to organize until you come across a diagram of a penis and a vagina. Bingo.

“Told you,” he mumbles, scoffing to himself. 

“Told me what?”

“Why would you want to help me study that?” 

“Uh— cause it’s part of your class and I don’t want you to fail,” you say matter of factly. “Believe it or not, Eddie, I like you, and your success translates to my happiness.” 

Bright red continues to flourish across his skin, affecting the apples of his cheeks all the way down to his throat. He turns bashful, eyes locking down on the carpet. 

Eddie’s shy — not often, but he is. You wouldn’t think so from the way he acts at school and in most public atmospheres, but get him in a room, one-on-one, and he’s all blushed cheeks and shy touches. It’s sweet and it’s one of your favourite things about him — but you don’t have time for sweet shyness right now. He’s failing gym for christ sake — gym.

“So, how do you want to do this?” you ask, slapping your hands to your thighs. Eddie startles, jolting before his wide eyes find yours. 

“Do what?”

“Study this,” you motion to the diagram on the floor separating the two of you.

“I— I’m not… we’re not—“

His eye contact goes rogue again, diverting anywhere else — everywhere else that isn’t you. Shy, shy, shy. Too shy. More shy than normal. And you have an inkling that it has to do with the subject of the conversation at hand. 

“Oh my god, Eddie. This is basic human anatomy. I think we’re grown up enough to handle a little penis and vagina,” you state, tacking on a laugh. 

You get a hint of Eddie's true personality beyond his shyness — it emerges through a quirk of his lip, the corner of it tweaking upwards into the hint of a smirk. 

“A little penis?” He parrots, his smirk fully emerging now. This boy.

“Cue cards? Should we do cue cards?”

He groans, body deflating. “You know I hate cue cards.”

“Okay, so let’s just go over the parts for now, then we can move on and do something else.”

You clear out a bigger area on the floor, making space for your study session. Eddie helps by kicking back stray articles of clothing and then picking out what looks like spilled weed from the carpet and collecting it in the palm of his hand. You’re a touch more productive, taping little pieces of paper over the diagram labels. When you’re done, you sit up admiring your work. Eddie stands, dropping his little handful of greenery onto his desk before sitting down on his bed. 

“Do you want to do it up there or down here?” You ask. 

The slight double entendre isn’t lost on you, you heard it before you even said it. Now knowing how shy Eddie is about this stuff, you couldn’t help but push your luck, and the blush that spreads across his cheeks makes it entirely worth it, especially while you deadpan and pretend you have no clue. 

“I’ll come down there—“ He says and you watch him physically recoil as his words set in. You resist your laughter. 

“Come, Eddie. Faster,” you tease, laughter starting to bubble up. A smile breaks through his embarrassment.

“Jesus Christ, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? You like seeing me suffer?”

“Me? Teasing you on purpose? Never.”

With a shake of his head, he joins you on the floor, leaving a large gap between the two of you. “Can we not do this, I already know this stuff.”

“Oh yeah? Eddie Munson is well versed in human anatomy?”

“I’m — I’m not going to answer that,” he crosses his arms. 

With a clap of your hands, you ignore his pouty demeanor. “Okay! Let’s just do this, the quicker you memorize everything the quicker we can not do this.”

With both of the diagrams set up, you give him the option of starting with the penis or vagina first. He chooses the easy answer, opting to go with the penis. 

One by one you point out each part of the penis, asking him for the anatomically correct name. You quickly understand why he’s failing. 

“Okay, and this one is…?”

“The head,” he states. 

“I mean… sure,” you nod hesitantly — “but the little arrow is pointing there — the glans. This one?”

You continue going through the chart, teaching Eddie the proper names for everything. When you finally graduate to the diagram of the vagina, Eddie is physically squirming in his spot. 

“Eddie, relax. Seriously. We’ve all seen a vagina before.”

“It’s so fucking hot in here, are you hot?” He groans, standing up and tripping his way to the window, slamming it open with a grunt. 

He’s barely made his way back before you have a thought.

“You’ve seen a vagina before, right?” 

He freezes — just for a moment, but you catch it. On his way to return to his spot on the floor he pauses, then continues moving as if you haven’t asked him a question. When he sits, you quirk a brow. 

“Yeah!” He answers. His voice tunes so high, it begs to crack.

You nod skeptically. You wouldn’t say he’s lying per se, but something seems off. Something that you’re interested in getting to the bottom of. 

“Let’s take a break, okay?” You offer.

“Yeah, a break’s, uh — good.” He exhales, letting out a breath of relief. He tugs at the collar of his shirt, fanning it in and out, getting some air flow on his skin. It’s very suspicious and you have to assume —

“So, you’ve never seen a vagina,” you say.

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “I have! I’m not a virgin.”

“You’re squirming like one.”

“I’m not!”

“There’s nothing wrong —”

“I’m not!” He says much louder, cutting you off. 

You believe him, seeing the full depth of sincerity in his amusedly large, and overly serious eyes. 

“Okay,” you nod.

“I’m not,” he insists once more, tone leaning towards stern. 

“I believe you, Eddie.”

The two of you sit quietly in your respective spots. You could busy yourself with getting some more studying stuff ready, but somehow — even though there was some verbal finality — this conversation doesn’t seem over. 

And with an inhale from Eddie, it’s not.

“I’ve just never been like…” he pauses, thinking, “I’ve just never been all up in there.” He makes a crude motion with his hands, both palms splayed out flat in your direction, moving outwards like he’s spreading something out. 

“You’ve never eaten a girl out before?”

“What are we doing?” He says, dropping his head into his hands, scrubbing at his cheeks with both palms. 

“You don’t have to answer. Seriously, if I’m really making you uncomfortable, I’ll stop. Swear.”

His chest inflates with a deep breath, then his head pops up. “I have but only for like a minute, in the dark, parked outside of the hideout after a gig,” he confesses. You raise your brows, surprised.

“You work quickly. A minute, that’s impressive.”

“No… Jesus, no,” he winces. “I fucking wish. We got interrupted and… yeah she never wanted to hang out after.”

“Oh,” you hum. “That sucks.” You tilt your head at him, frowning apologetically. 

“Yeah. She, uh, I’m pretty sure she had a boyfriend but I didn’t know when we… yeah.” He concludes his confession with a shrug before sitting back to lean against the side of his bed. 

“That really sucks. Sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, tacking on a laugh. It’s not a nervous laugh. It’s genuine and you take his lack of nervousness as permission to continue the conversation. 

“So… Do you have a tactic?”

“Tactic?”

“Yeah. Like, most guys use the alphabet on the clit thing, which is awful by the way, don’t do that.”

“I think…” he raises his brows. “I think, maybe, just being overzealous is my thing. I don’t really know — I haven't done it enough to have a tactic.”

“Overzealous is good…” you nod, “as long as it’s strategic.”

Eddie meets your gaze. He’s intrigued — “Elaborate?” he asks. 

“Like, sure if you want to go to town and eat the pussy, go for it, but the only place it really counts is the clit — of course everything else is nice too, but the clit is definitely where it matters,” you nod to yourself, punctuating your statement. “And—” you add on, raising your hand, bringing together two of your fingers to mime the curling motions of getting fingered. “I like when they use their fingers too. It's a lot better like that.”

Eddie goes silent. He looks like he’s thinking, maybe even committing your words to memory— but it’s an odd look he has on his face. One you’ve never seen before from him.

“Sorry, did I say too much?” You laugh, trying to diffuse. Eddie looks at you, shaking his head in amused disbelief.

“Why the fuck are you tutoring me in going down on a girl right now?” He laughs. 

You smile, appreciating his amusement. Tilting your head boastfully, you accept his comment like a compliment. “Just a natural born teacher, I guess,” you tease. 

He nods, humming agreeingly. He doesn’t say anything more but you’ve got a handful of curiosities burning through your back pocket, and when in rome…

“Are we done with this conversation,” you ask, “or can we keep going ‘cause I might have a few questions for you?”

“Hasn't this whole conversation already been an interrogation of my experiences?”

“But this might be your only opportunity to teach me something, Edward.” You jet out your lower lip, pouting it, rounding your eyes at him — trying your best to keep this going. 

He rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance. 

“Are you about to ask me if I can move my dick without my hands, because the answer is yes but it’s not full control.”

“That’s not what I was gonna ask, but very cool.”

“Sorry. That’s usually what girls ask.”

That has been a curiosity but your questions… your questions are much more… sophisticated? 

“So can I?” you ask. 

“Can you?”

“Ask you questions?”

He bites his lip, pointedly making you sweat it out. With a dramatic sigh, he gives in. “Go for it.”

You sit up straighter, very pleased with his answer. 

“Balls,” you state. Eddie’s eyes widen immediately — you ignore the regret that flashes across his face. “Do you like them being touched? Every time I’ve done anything with them, the guy kind of, like, recoils and it feels like I did something wrong.” 

“Jesus…” he clears his throat with an awkward laugh. “You’re really going for the big questions, huh?” 

“The big questions?” You raise your eyebrows suggestively. 

“No, Jesus I’m not implying my balls are — holy shit. My balls are normal sized, that’s not what I meant.” He continues to laugh through his embarrassment, cheeks heating right back up to that very cute, bright, red colour. 

“I’m just teasing you, Eddie. I’m sure your balls are lovely and perfectly normal sized.”

He hums appreciatively but it gets stuck in his throat, coming out as a high pitched croak. He clears his voice, nodding as he raises a hand to the back of his neck, wringing it nervously.

“You don’t have to answer, but I would appreciate knowing,” you say, softly, sympathetic — leaning into apologetic. He nods again, and you can tell the gears are spinning in his head as he thinks over his answer. 

“They’re just… sensitive,” he swallows. “But… I do like them being played with, or sucked, or licked… or whatever.” 

His eyes focus on the far wall, not out of nervousness or shyness this time, but more like he’s giving his words some real thought. You appreciate it and wait patiently for him to continue. 

“I guess I would have to say that it’s personal preference, so ask?” he continues unsurely, eyes still focusing elsewhere. “I mean, no guy is ever gonna be mad if you ask to put their balls in your mouth — or… whatever you want to do with them.” He looks at you with wide eyes as he suddenly gets nervous again. You wave him off, letting him silently know that ‘balls in your mouth’ is not an offense to you.

“Could you cum from someone playing with your balls?”

“Holy shit,” he gasps, laughing. His hand that was wringing his neck drops to his lap in a heavy thud. At the same time, he brings up both knees, hugging them halfways to his chest as he mulls over his answer. “Um? Maybe? But, I think a big part of it is a visual thing — like, it adds to the hotness when they’re into the balls?” He finishes, adding an unsure inflection to the end of his remark. You nod, narrowing your eyes into a squint as you absorb what he’s saying. 

“So it doesn’t feel good?”

“It does,” he quickly corrects, “just anything on the head feels way better.” 

“Okay… good to know.” You nod, moving on. “And dirty talk. You really like that? Like, when the girl’s going on and on about your ‘big cock in her tight little pussy’, is it not weird?”

“Jesus, you really aren’t holding back with these questions.” He smiles through the blotchy redness growing down his neck all the way to the collar of his shirt.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” you promise, dipping your face lower to catch Eddie’s gaze. He holds it for a second, before letting his eyes roam the room. 

“Dirty talk is hot, obviously, but… it’s not when it’s rehearsed shit like that. It makes it feel like they’re performing — and maybe I’m just doing a piss poor job and they are performing — I don’t know, but I’d rather hear about what you actually like that I’m doing. Even if you’re telling me to go faster or harder or whatever. That’s fucking hot.”

“Alright, so be genuine. Cool,” you nod. 

“You done with questions?” He meets your gaze with raised brows for a fraction of a brave second before quickly looking away. 

The thing is, you’re not done. 

“So, hypothetically, if someone you didn’t like played with only your balls, and it wasn’t hot— like nothing about it was hot, would you still cum?”

He doesn’t give you the same surprised initial shock as he did with all the other questions. This time he just lets out a long, evenly staggered breath through puffed out cheeks. 

“I think…” He hugs his knees closer to his chest, rubbing both his palms along his shins quickly, filling the silence with the sounds of skin on denim. 

You can see the edge of his words in his expression, like he wants to say something but is holding it back. Whatever it is, you wait patiently — you do sit up a little straighter though, eagerly leaning inwards, listening with baited breath to his quiet, pensive hum.

His lips twitch, mouth opening then closing. With a loud exhale, he lets go of his shins, letting his knees drop from their upright position, and with that, his resolve breaks.  

“Fuck it” he curses — “Probably. Sometimes I think that the wind blowing the wrong way could make me cum. Like, I’m fighting for my fucking life to not get hard right now.”

He ends his speed-run confession with a pant, chest shallowly heaving with each breath. Excited wings beat inside your chest, dipping down to your belly as you absorb what he's just said to you. 

“Really?” you ask, blinking wide eyes at him. His breathing evens out, and he meets your gaze.

“Yeah,” he shrugs shyly — cutely.

“You know I like you, right?” 

His face falls. “What?” His brows press together, furrowing with confusion and you really don’t know how you could have been clearer about this whole ordeal.

“Eddie,” you smile. “I’ve told you like a million times that I like you — like earlier, I told you barely an hour ago before we got started.”

You said it quite plainly too; ‘Believe it or not, Eddie, I like you, and your success translates to my happiness.’ 

“Yeah, but I thought you meant as a… a person? Or a friend?”

You can’t help but laugh — not at him… well, a little bit at him, but this is just so ridiculous, how could he be so clueless. 

“I love my friends but I don’t think I would fill all my free time teaching them math and all the anatomical correct names of the different parts of the penis.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, they’re good people but that’s not exactly my idea of fun,” you tease. “Of course I’m serious, Eddie. So if you wanted to make a move… I wouldn’t be opposed.” 

At this point, after a confession as straightforward as that, you’d hope for movement — anything — even him getting closer to you, moving in for a kiss at the very least… but he stays sat in his opposite spot, his binder with the vagina diagram laid out flat, separating the both of you. 

Maybe you read this wrong — backpedal. 

“Did I just make this weird? Should I have not said that? I like tutoring you too, I don’t want you to think I’m expecting something from you just because I’ve been helping you.” You ramble apologetically, shrinking into yourself as you feel your whole body start to flush with icky embarrassment.

Eddie’s spine goes rigid as he sits up pin-straight, shaking his head emphatically.

“No! I like you too,” he interjects, leaning towards you, putting a hand on your knee. “Even before you started tutoring me.” 

“You do?” You sigh a breath of relief. Meeting his eyes, you smile sweetly, ignoring the whiplash that still has your stomach pinched in a half knot.

His voice gets soft with his confession — “Why do you think I didn’t want to sit around looking at penises and vaginas with you?” he laughs quietly,  “I was terrified of getting hard and scaring you away.”

The mention of him getting hard has your eyes flickering downwards for a split second. You can’t tell, but you tease him anyway — “And how’s that working out for you?”

“If you’re asking if I’m hard…” He trails off, smiling nervously, leaving you with a confirmed suspicion. 

“Should I make a move?” 

“Well, I’m not opposed.” He says it like it’s a joke — you know he’s being funny, breaking tension or whatever, but you don’t laugh. You perk up, tummy filling with fluttery feelings because that’s permission.

Permission to crawl the short distance between the two of you.

Permission to help yourself to his lap — pulling your skirt up high enough to straddle his upper thighs.

Permission to let your hands feel from his shoulders, down to his pecks. 

Permission to be this close to him — close enough that you can see every shy detail, every cute freckle, every nervous flutter of his lashes. 

Best of all — it’s permission for an intimacy you’ve been waiting for — longing for.

You sink yourself against him and — “Oh,” you gasp, “you weren’t kidding.” 

Through the thin cotton of your underwear, you feel the hard curve behind the zip of his jeans. It has you biting your lip, holding back your grin. 

His eyes coast your features, narrowing in on the tweaked up corners of your lips. He ghosts a quiet ‘yeah’, dipping his face downwards, hiding his own coy smile. 

You just won’t have that — you bring your hands to his cheeks, tilting his chin upwards, encouraging him to look at you. He lets you guide him, lets you wash your gaze over his features — lets you rake your eyes over every detail, even when his skin grows pink and you know he wants you to be looking anywhere else.

But you can’t help it. The rosy tint to his cheeks looks too warm, too inviting. His lips are just too pink, too bitten. And most of all, his eyes have become too deep, too capturing, especially when the usual gold in his brown has resolved to being just the thinnest ring, glinting and shimmering around absorbing black orbs.

“Your eyes are really dark right now,” you observe aloud. 

“Yeah?” He asks and you nod your head. You watch him as he lets his own gaze search your face. He swallows, coming to his own conclusion. “You just looked amused.”

You smile. You are amused but — “I’m not just amused.”

“No?” 

“I’m also really turned on.” You feel it in your belly, multitudes of warm winged flutters, sitting low, radiating heat throughout your whole body. You lean in closer, watching intently as his brows rise, moving to hide beneath his bangs as he processes your second confession of the evening.

“You are?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Want to know what I’m thinking about?”

He swallows thickly, and that golden ring in his eyes gets the faintest bit thinner.

“I do.”

You sit more comfortably, bringing your hands back to his chest and letting your bum press fully to his thighs. He lets out a near silent groan as your front sinks to his and when you adjust your hips, his hands dart to your sides, holding you tightly. 

“First,” you smile, batting your lashes at him. “I’m thinking about kissing you.” A soft swoon washes over Eddie's face, eyes turning soft for you. His eyes blink down to your lips, but you have more to say. “I’m also thinking about your balls in my mouth.”

The softness steps back, shock taking over. “Jesus christ,” he curses yet again, drawing out each syllable in a low groan. 

“And since I’ve been sitting here, I can’t help but think about how your cock would feel inside of me.”

“Fuck.” He meets your gaze, eyes rounding, jaw going slack. His chest begins to rise more rapidly, his breathing growing heavier. 

The feeling of him between your legs is undeniable now — he’s hard, very hard, uncomfortably hard. You let your hands slide up his chest, to his shoulders, letting your fingertips graze along the warm skin of his neck. He blinks heavily, eyelids growing weighted, swarming with evident lust. It makes you excited, makes you want more. 

You lower your voice to a breathy whisper, leaning in closer, letting your lips graze the shell of his ear.  “How’s the dirty talk, Eddie? Am I doing good?” You purr. His fingers pinch into the flesh at your sides as you shift once again, rolling your hips just enough to feel that hint of pleasure between your thighs. 

Eddie stifles his moan. “S– so good. You’re doing so g-good,” he stutters. His breath hitches as you press a kiss to the edge of his jaw, and then another, moving downwards to his neck. 

“What are you thinking about?” You pull away, looking at him through your lashes. You barely have a second to react before his hands are on your jaw, tugging you into him. 

It catches you off guard at first as his lips mash to yours. It’s entirely overzealous, bidding his earlier statement true by multiple definitions. It’s not terrible, but it is desperate. 

Flattening a heeding palm to his chest, you pull away just the slightest bit, letting your lips faintly graze his. 

“Slowly, Eddie.” you whisper. 

His interrupted desperation manifests as a quiet huff against your lips. Regardless of how hard he is beneath you, and how badly he wants to mash his mouth to yours, he nods, noses bumping together as he does.

This time you lean in. You guide the kiss, moving slowly, tenderly, and he follows your lead, moving gently, catching on quickly. Your upper lip presses between both of his and it's so delicate, so earnest, that it makes your heart thrum. It's exactly what you needed, and you reward Eddie with a quiet hum, letting your hands wrap behind his neck, pressing your chests together. 

His breath fans over your skin as he hums back, letting his hands glide to your lower back, hugging you closer. His lips massage yours, slowly, and he takes his time, letting you melt into him entirely. 

When you feel the pressure of his tongue licking across your lower lip your anticipation really sets in. You open your mouth, rolling your hips upwards as you move in closer to him. With a huffed, eager grunt, and with fingers kneading bruises into your skin, he licks into your mouth completely contradictory to it all, still giving you softness in the kiss. You’re elated by it all, swept up, enraptured by him being so sweet to you.

You sigh breathily as you have to pull away. 

“That was really good,” you fawn, dropping your head to rest against his shoulder. You let out another sigh, smiling contently to yourself. You’ve been wanting to do that for a long time — really too long, if you’re being honest. 

Eddie hums an agreement. You intend to go further than just a kiss, but you give yourself a moment to bask in it all. Just a moment, that’s all you need. 

And in the next moment, with your wits gathered, you wiggle your hips. Eddie’s palms press tightly against your back and he lets out a sharp gasp that melds into a whimper. You giggle a quiet apology. 

“Too much for you?” you tease.

“Nuh-uh.” He shakes his head, his warm cheek pressing to yours. “M’just really hard right now.”

He is — you can feel it, and you can feel the mess growing between your own thighs. 

A simple solution; you hint at rolling your hips another time. It’s hardly any friction, just testing the waters. You’re surprised when Eddie pulls you inwards, guiding your hips, encouraging you to move. He lets out a low groan as the squish of your thighs pass over his length, one that you hardly register over your own gasp as you get your first real hint of pleasure.

With his help, you build a slow rhythm, grinding to the curve in his denim, one that has your eyes fluttering shut and Eddie tensing, letting out meak whimpers and low moans. It's nice, it really is, but as nice as it feels for you, you weave a hand between the two of you, suggestively placing it on the buckle of his belt.  

“Can I ask you another question?”

“Yes,” his voice comes out as a heaved breath. Very eager to continue.

“After you cum, how long does it take for you to get hard again?”

“Sh-shit — it depends. Sometimes —” he swallows thickly and you hear the gulp in his throat — “sometimes it’s barely a few minutes.”

“I want to try out what you taught me, but I want you to fuck me too.”

“We can — yeah we can do that.” His voice wavers as he bites back his excitement, trying to play it cool. Despite that, you feel the overzealousness in his pants, twitching with enthusiasm. 

You press a chaste kiss to his lips before scooting back on his legs, weaving your hands between the two of you to pop open his belt. Just as you unweave the leather and toss the heavy buckle to the side, holding the button under your thumb, Eddie’s hand meets your waist — not stopping you, just getting your attention. 

“Can I…” he starts. You look up at him, pausing your movement. He continues, “can I try what you told me too?” His eyes barely meet yours, growing bashful all over again. 

“Of course you can,” you say sincerely. You finish unbuttoning his pants, tugging the zipper down while leaning in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You don’t gotta be shy, Eddie. I like you already, a lot.” 

He nods, but you can still see a hint of cautiousness in his expression. 

“I’m serious, Eddie. I want you to be comfortable with me. Anything you need, anything you want, you can tell me.” 

He nods. His mouth mulls for a moment, but he nods a second time, assumedly coming to a conclusion. “Can we move up to the bed?” he asks. 

“I’d like that,” you smile and he smiles back.

Just as you lift your leg to get off him, you let out a surprised yelp as he does the bravest thing he’s done yet, both hands grabbing firmly at your bottom, tugging you into him and up as he pushes himself off the floor. He moves the both of you up to the edge of the bed with one strong flex of his legs and your stomach swirls with the rush of it all. 

From there, it's a giggling tussle of limbs, him pulling you up the bed, you pulling his pants off. Eventually, you both settle, him pantless, sitting with his back to the wall where his headboard should be, and you, by his side, knees pressing to his thigh. Your fingers wiggle with excitement as you take the thin cotton of his boxers, lacing them just under the waistband. 

You shimmy in your spot, shaking your hips, letting out a happy hum as you begin to pull them down. Your belly fills with good nerves, butterflies, and your mouth salivates. When you get them down as far as you can without his help, he silently chimes in, lifting his hips, hooking his own thumbs into the material. With a quiet humph, the fabric passes his length, freeing it to bob against his shirt-covered belly. 

Tempestuously red. Furiously flushed. Severely erect. Poor Eddie. Happy you. His tip is blushed to a deep crimson, glistening with the pearlescent sheen of precum. It has your body flushing hot everywhere — from your cheeks all the way south to where you grind yourself down onto the backs of your heels just to feel a pinch of salvation. 

Somewhere between where your ogling started and where you had to physically swallow the gathering saliva in your mouth, his boxers got discarded entirely, your own shirt disappearing along with them — because it is just so hot all of a sudden.  

If you weren’t completely blinded by your impeding tunnel vision, you would have seen the way Eddie gawked at your newly revealed skin, absorbing every inch, taking in every feature to your body. You would have seen the way his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat and the fresh cherry red blush spread to his cheeks. You would have seen the way he had to forcefully peel his eyes away from your chest when he felt your fingers press into his bare thighs as you situated yourself between his legs. But you didn’t have a chance to notice all of those details, not when you felt the thrilling thrum of anticipation bubbling up in your bloodstream. 

“You ready, Eddie?” You ask, grinning at him. He blinks slowly at you, no answer, making your smile falter.

“You look pretty,” he blurts out, much to your delight. “Really pretty. All the time — not just now because you're about to — you’re just beautiful, s’what I want to say.”

“Thank you,” you say, pleasantly surprised. Eddie on the other hand, cringes at his own rambling, face scrunching in defeat. You like him even more for it — “I think you’re beautiful too, Eddie,” you smile. “And not just because I have your pretty cock in front of me.” 

Eddie huffs a soft laugh and you gleam, pleased with yourself. 

With actual consent, you take him in your hand. Gentle at first, easing him into your touch. Just barely grazing your thumb over the tip, you smear the slick precum around, before sinking your fist to his base. He lets out a tensed moan, exhaling — exhilarating. That quiet, throaty noise has you lighting up, already feening for more.

Leaning down further, arching your back, you gather your saliva in your mouth before letting it spill out in a single string over the tip of his needy head, falling down just to be caught by the upwards rise of your fist. This time he sucks in a sharp breath and you live for it. 

Closing the distance between your mouth and his cock, you lick the tip gently, pressing your tongue to the river of precum that sits in the curves of his slit, relishing in the saltiness that makes your mouth water effortlessly. You hum, feeling the pulse between your legs grow deeper, more intense. You push your hips back, angling them, searching for any sort of relief. 

While it doesn’t satiate the need between your thighs, Eddie notices your squirm, and brings a splayed palm to your side, letting it curve to your skin. It settles in, warming you, encouraging you to distract yourself in such a beautiful way by taking him into your mouth. 

You let your tongue swirl. Flick. Caress. Your lips graze before closing, and you suck. Cheeks hardly hollowing, the noise he lets out makes you want to keep being gentle — draw this out, make this last. 

But like a devil on your shoulder, you want to skip forward. You want his balls in your mouth, that’s the guise of this whole encounter, isn’t it? To practice what he’s taught you.

Jumping right to the chase, abandoning his desperately swollen cock, doesn’t strike you as the way to go about this, so you continue to be gentle. Pulling off the tip, kissing him up and down his length. Pressing your lips where needed and drawing circles and lovey hearts across his skin with the pointed angle of your tongue.

It's not fruitless. Every noise, every groan, every heavy breath, pleading whimper, fills you up. It fills you up until it has you leaning your body into his hand on your rib cage, needing to feel him wherever you can, while taking him fully into your mouth. Swallowing him down, deeply hollowing your cheeks, gliding your lips and flattening your tongue until your nose presses to the wispy patch of coarse hair at his base. 

“Fuck— fuck.” Eddie groans through a strangled breath. 

His hand leaves your ribs and you whimper at the loss, only to be reunited with the physical contact as he takes hold of your head with both of his hands, pulling you up. You whine, chest collapsing with defeat. You pout as soon as his cock leaves your mouth. Looking up at him, he looks worked up and frayed — all a shivered mess — but eyes sincerely apologetic as he catches your disappointment. 

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting that.” He pants heavily, catching his breath while you catch your own. Your pout lessens, and instead, your pride sets in. You did that to him. 

Wiping your gathered tears, you place a tentative hand on his length, watching him for any protests. His head knocks back into the hard wall, but he never loses sight of you, now looking down the angular slope of his nose, watching with amorous, lusting eyes. 

You dip down, reapproach, but this time you give into your own desire, indulging yourself.

Lifting his cock, you nose down his length. His eyes turn wide, but still, no protests.

“Can I put your balls in my mouth?” You ask, doing just as he told you to do, embellishing your simple sentence with pleading, fluttery lashes and persuasive, pinched together brows. 

His lips press into a purse as he swallows, and then they part with approval. “Yes,” he says. You watch as his tongue swipes along his plump bottom lip, and you can’t help but smile up at him. 

Appreciation sits on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t say it, you show it. Bowing your face low, you lick up the centre of his sack, flattening your slow moving tongue with an oath of sincerity — this makes you burn. For a moment, you believe that you’d be content if this was for you and you only, but then you meet his gaze, and you see the way he burns too.

His eyes devour you — your hand wrapped around his cock, thumb barely touching index, your chin settled deep between his thighs. You burn identically and it makes the swirl of butterflies in your stomach rise high, beating heavily in your chest. You get lost for a moment, but a thumb on your cheek, sweetly swiping softly against your skin, brings you right back.

“Pretty girl,” he hums. 

You tilt your head, nuzzling into his grip, humming a tender thank you. His thumb swipes again, just under your eye before settling behind your ear, sitting there with no intention but to be tethered to you.

It’s sweet, and you return the gesture, pressing two kisses, one to each side. You shift your focus, returning back to the moment.

Head still partially in the clouds, you do something daring without thinking, and you suck one of his balls into your mouth. Eddie lunges forward, bending at the waist, nearly folding in half as his stomach tenses harshly. He whimpers, and you pull back immediately.

“Sorry!” You shift, looking at his contorted expression. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

He quickly relaxes himself, patting your cheek as he settles, unclenching his thighs that had tightened at your sides.

“No — no.” He shakes his head, catching his breath “Do it again.” He gently guides you back down. “I was just distracted, caught me off guard,” he explains.

Distracted like you were. You understand, and you let him guide your face back down. 

This time you’re careful. With his eyes on you, you start again, licking, feeling the silky skin with your tongue as you gauge his reaction, peering up at him through your lashes. He nods, and you carefully take him into your mouth, letting your tongue roll cautiously along the velvet skin. 

You’re careful not to do too much, but you grow more confident when you see the way his mouth falls open with his own appreciation. 

“Fuck,” he exhales. “Just like that. Good girl,” he praises, groaning as you suckle delicately. His cock jumps in your loose fist, reminding you just how long it's been since you’ve paid it any attention. Tightening your grip, you run your fist up, then down languidly, multitasking in a way that has Eddie gaping, jaw slack, mouth parted wide, eyes owlish and filled to the brim with heated astonishment. 

With your mouth, you switch to his other side, doing the same, rolling your tongue exploringly, seeing what has his stomach tensing and noises pulling from his lungs. 

As you let your thumb run over his leaking head, he lets out a throaty groan. His thighs tense around you once more, but instead of backing away, you lean into it, embracing the new-found way to make him squirm. 

His breathing quickly becomes rapid as you take more of him into your mouth, sucking more confidently, and pulling away every now and again to press deserved kisses. Your fist moves quicker, focusing on the tip — purposeful, as you remember what he taught you. 

You suck, and glide your hand in smooth strokes, over and over, showing him just how much you like him. If he didn’t believe you before, he has to now. 

With a strong, devoted rhythm built, the skin against your tongue eventually begins to pull taut. He throbs in your hand. You know before he says anything, even before his hand can flex its grip on your cheek. You pull away, letting him fall from your mouth with a quiet pop. He lets out a worn sigh of relief as you sever the threads of spit from your mouth to his balls and shift, moving back to his wired-up cock, twitching at just the sensation of your breath on his over-flushed tip.

Rearranging yourself, you sink your fist, moving it low to his base, and then you adjust, moving your hand to cradle his balls in your palm. His stomach flexes and he lets out a pitiful whimper — he's so close, even while you're barely touching him.

“Please,” he rasps through a strained breath. 

You have nothing but appreciation for the man in front of you, reduced to pleading. You want nothing more than to satisfy him.

Gentle, a thing of the past. You take his cock in your mouth deeply. Swallowing his thickness down, taking him as far as he fits, pressing him to the very back of your throat. Your eyes water, and you breathe heavily through your nose, never once forgetting to massage him in your hand.

His chest heaves, and his fingers weave their way into the hairs at the base of your neck, tugging — communicating. His helpless moans draw out, getting longer and deeper, drawing out each and every flutter in your belly, adding to your fire. 

You can’t believe you’ve been sitting around, tutoring him, teaching him math when you could have been doing this. This is much better — much, much more fulfilling. 

You rise and fall, bobbing quickly, and he encourages you, helping you find the pace that brings him to his edge. He swells in your mouth, and draws upwards in your hand. You hum, encouraging him to let go.

“I’m gonna —” he tries to speak, but a rogue whine cuts him off. He sucks in a sharp breath — “I’m cumming, I’m —” Panic invades his voice as his grip in your hair turns harsh, pulling, stinging your scalp. You hum again, and then you feel the spill. 

The warmth of his cum invades the back of your throat, loading your senses with the distinctly musky taste and a bitter-flavoured swell of sweetness in your chest. Pleased, you swallow it down, and ask for more with the purse of your lips on his overworked tip. His hips buck up into you as you happily swallow everything you can, lapping it up with your appeasing tongue. 

His body relaxes until you don’t stop. Then he’s flexing again, sucking in harsh, gasp-like breaths, using his hands in your hair to guide you away from his over-sensitive cock. 

Both his palms cup your cheeks and you rise, straightening out your spine, walking your knees up the mattress to be closer to him. His hand falls to your knee, encouraging a bend, welcoming you back into his lap. You happily take a careful seat on his thighs. 

“Holy fucking shit,” Eddie gushes unapologetically. 

His body slouches into the mattress, but he continues to beakon you forward. You follow his weak, weary pull and he guides you to his lips, attaching his mouth to yours in a lazy kiss. His beholden tongue greets yours, unaffected by the lingering flavour of his seed that coats your lips and mixes with your spit. He devours it gratefully. 

“That was —” he starts, pulling away just to peck your lips again — “So, so— I don’t even have words.” His hand slides loosely across the expanse of your bare waist as he presses a frenzy of chaste kisses to your lips, making you giggle.

“I did good? I thought I hurt you for a minute.”

“No— shit, you did so good, baby.” Eddie hums, fondly pressing his cheek to yours as he hugs you closer.

You feel his praises blaze at something inside of you, thrumming through your bloodstream, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t highlight your own neediness, the one left abandoned between your thighs. 

Despite the restlessness that grows in your twitching hips, you try to relax, focusing on the sentimental feeling of the rise and fall of his chest, letting your body slink into his, fitting seamlessly against him until his breathing returns to a steady rate. You patiently wait for him to make the next move — especially after him letting you lead most of this evening. 

Just as you’ve let your eyes flutter shut, resting them for a peaceful moment, a kiss to your shoulder has your excitement kicking up in your lower belly, waking up those warm, winged creatures once again. He presses another kiss, and then another, following the slope of your shoulder. Down the curve, to your collarbone, high on your chest, kiss after kiss until his lips meet the plumpness of your breast that spills over the cups of your bra.

The swell of your breast, across, to the centre, his lips find your sternum, and you keen into it, unafraid of coming off as desperate. 

It’s barely anything, just innocent pecks, but it has you impatient, tilting your head back, curving your body to offer up more skin to him. He hums a warm tone, affectionately following the path of your sternum, nosing his way down your cleavage, sighing a deep, warm breath against your skin, adding a few extra heated degrees to your body temperature — you thank him with a breathy moan.

His hands move to your sides, tickling along your flesh, leaving goosebumped skin in their path as he traces along the band of your bra, fingertips gliding until they meet the clasp.

“Please,” you whisper, biting your lip as he finger paints small swirls along your spine. You push yourself closer, needing more.

And he gives you more. The band tightens around your ribs as he finds the edge, and you hold your breath.

One clip comes undone easily, granting you a hint of relief. Two follows, leaving just the third hook stuck standing between you and the promise of pleasure.

Then he stops — worse actually — he doesn’t just stop, he completely abandons the clasp on your bra as his head pops up, nearly clipping the edge of your jaw. He pulls you flush to his chest, tucking your head to his shoulder.

It surprises you, making your heart pound for an entirely different reason.

“What—” you begin, but his heedful palm spreads across the plain of your upper back, halting your question, making you pause. Unsure and curious, you turn your face, pushing against his grip on you, trying to see what’s wrong.

His face is contorted into a flat, focused look as his eyes fixate on the closed door of his room. You’re totally confused by what has pulled his attention, but then you hear a clatter from the living room of his trailer. You turn to look at Eddie. 

His eyes pinch shut with disappointment. “No,” he groans, dropping his head to your shoulder in defeat. 

“Is that —”

“My fucking uncle,” he mumbles into your skin.

“Oh,” you say quietly, trying to fight the unresolved neediness of your body from turning you into a slouching ball of disappointment.

“He's not supposed to be home yet,” he groans, and it comes out huffed, like he's annoyed, but you know it's not directed at you. Part of you is relieved to hear that upset edge in his voice, because you know how easy it would be for most boys to shrug it off when they already got what they needed.

His palm swipes across your back, rubbing it in a soothing way before he pulls away, finding your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. 

You shrug, it's not like this is his fault. “It’s okay,” you promise. 

“It’s not.”

You smile. “It is,” you say, delighted by his sincerity. “This just means we’ll have to pick up where we left off another day.”

“But you didn’t get to cum.”

True but — “I still had fun.”

He dips his face, chin bowing downward, bitten lips jetting out with his generous empathy. “I’m sorry,” he says again, and you giggle at his niceness. He might be more upset than you are, and you love it.

“Eddie, you know me,” you grin. “You said I did a good job, and there’s nothing better than the satisfaction of a job well done,” you beam, and you’re very pleased when you get a good chuckle from Eddie.

“Next time?” He proposes with a raised brow.

“Next time,” you agree.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

merci buckets hope you liked if you did make sure to hit! that subscribe button and leave a like down below (aka comment and reblog <33333)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

[nymphoniah]

one of these nights | logan howlett

AN: just a little drabble while i work on an ask! i can’t stop thinking about lazy evenings with old!man logan. he loves to rough up his girl, whether she likes it or not <3

pairing: old man!logan x afab!reader

content/tags: NSFW, minors DNI (18+ only!), suggestive content, hair pulling, teasing, old man!logan, kinda dom/sub vibes if you squint, assplay (spanking, but gently), pet names (princess, darling, sugar, etc.), dirty talk, mark leaving (hickeys)

you’re sprawled out on the couch, cozy with your head rested on his lap. he’s seated, reading a book, elbow propped up against the armrest, prescription glasses slowly drooping down his nose bridge.

with his free hand, he’s playing with your hair, ruffling it up the same way you do with his. his fingers intertwine lazily with your hair, twisting at the strands that frame your face

“c’mon logan!” you whine, pushing his hands away playfully, “i just curled my hair, wanted to look nice for you”, you quipped, emphasizing the last word by nuzzling your face deeper into the plush of his thighs in frustration.

“don’t worry,” he coos, letting out a deep chuckle. you enjoy the way his chest vibrates against you, a wistful sign of his affection; a small tell that only you can decipher.

“you look absolutely pretty this way, doll,” he lulls, folding the corner on the page of his book, placing it on the nightstand.

his firm hands move to the curve of your waist, slowly creeping their way downwards. you grunt in response, your impish way of saying as if!

he pats the flesh of your ass with a rhythm—gentle and slow, the same way you’d pat a baby’s back to help them fall asleep. it was soothing, calming, it kept you grounded.

you loved being pampered by logan. it never mattered to him if he was busy reading, working late in his study. he always made time for you.

he played with the hem of your skirt, tugging ever so slightly—teasing you back. he knew of your attentions, knew how needy you were the second you laid down next to him.

he gives you one last gentle smack on the ass, serving as a punctuation of some sort. “c’mere darling,” he murmurs, his tone low and sultry with the natural timbre of his voice.

you slowly crawl your way into his lap, gently slotting yourself between his thighs, his thick muscles now caging you in.

logan was an absolute sight— tired, disheveled, tie half way loosened. despite his age, he filled out his button-up shirt quite well, his muscles barely contained by the cotton.

“you really think i look pretty like this?” you ask innocently, tilting your head to the side. your hair still a tangled mess from his absentminded

“’course you do, doll,” he responds with no hesitation, placing wet kisses along your neck, his salt-and-pepper beard tickling the sensitive skin.

his hands run along your sides, slipping them underneath your nightgown. you moan at the way his cold hands work at your sensitive nubs, graciously molding your mounds.

he playfully tugs at them, and you let out a little his. the corner of his mouth curls, a tight smirk now forming across his face.

“need to ruin you, sugar”, he groans against you, now planting kisses against your collarbone, sucking ever-so slightly to leave those purple bruises you both desired.

“fuckin’ need to make a mess outta you,” he drones on, intoxicated by the way you react to his touch; a simple whimper or small whine that escaped your lips made his cock twitch.

he grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging slightly to make sure your eyes meet his. his stern gaze meets your lust blown pupils, and she shakes his head in dismay.

“ now let me rough you up a lil’ bit more, princess…”

[monstersflashlight]

Day 3. Monster-kinktober: Haunted + Free

A/N: Continuation of this little short story. Enjoy!

Shadow monster x fem!reader || tentacle sex, oral sex, semi-public sex

When your friends insisted on me going into the haunted house with them you were scared, you were scared shitless. You didn’t like scary stuff, you didn’t even like that you were out on Halloween night. You liked your Halloween to be spent with candy and watching cringy scary movies that made you laugh and didn’t stop you from sleeping at night. But apparently you were “a baby” and you needed to “get over it”, or so they said. They annoyed you so much that you decided to say fuck it, the park attractions couldn’t be that bad, even kids went there… Right?

You were wrong.

And now you regretted it. You regretted it with every fiber of your body. When the lights went off and you heard high pitched screams, you joined in, screaming, too. You reached around and found somebody’s arm, thinking it was your friend. You clung to him like a baby koala, your whole body pressed against his side as he kept walking for a few steps, your face completely hidden in his shoulder. Your eyes were firmly closed as he stopped in the middle of somewhere.

"Darling, I'm really enjoying this, but I think you got your arms messed up," an unknown voice whispered against your ear, making you shiver and open your eyes widely, a scream almost escaping your lips before he covered your mouth with his dark hand, chuckling.

In front of you wasn’t one of your friends, but one of the monsters working on the attraction, looking at you with the most delicious smirk on his stupidly handsome face. His tentacles undulating behind his black form, all the shadows around his body, making him look enticing instead of scary. And you were almost salivating, he was that handsome. He looked good enough to eat.

You were two seconds away from running away far from him, completely embarrassed, when he stopped you again, one of his tentacles circling your waist to stop your movements. "Calm down, I will guide you outside, don't worry, I don't bite... At least not if you don't ask first." He winked at you, and you blushed, heavily flustered. Your body was still shivering, but this time it was not from fear.

You pulled away just enough to get your mouth free, but his hand landed on your neck, where he squeezed softly, making your heart skip a beat. “Can we... can we leave now?” You stuttered, trying to sound somewhat coherent even though you could feel the tear stains in your cheeks from earlier and your voice was trembling slightly.

His eyes softened. “No, darling, not yet. The doors are closed until this ends,” he explained, his hand still around your neck, caressing your pulse point and making your heart speed up.

“How long is that?” You asked, breathless.

He looked at the ceiling like it got the answer to that question and answered: “About… 20 more minutes.” You looked at the ceiling expecting to find a clock there, but there was nothing at all… how the fuck?

But you had more important matters to attend to. “Oh. Okay. I should try to find my friend then…” You pushed his chest softly, not really wanting to untangle yourself, but being a bit uncomfortable with the situation.

“Or you could keep me company,” he teased. “I bet I can distract you from the fear,” the innuendo in his tone was so clear you shivered, your panties getting wet. There was no way this amazing shadow monster wanted to fuck you, right?

“And how would you do that?” You asked.

He smirked again. “I don’t know if you realized… But I have tentacles.” His tentacles came around his body and touched different parts of yours, making you giggle when they tickled your sides. “Your laugh entices me like no other ever had,” he confessed as he lowered his head and claimed your mouth. You kissed him with desperation, clinging to his body until you were breaking apart, gasping for air. You forgot you had to breathe for a second, his kiss so good you forgot you even existed apart of that point of contact.

He started kissing down your neck, his hands groping your ass. You looked around frantically, almost expecting some other human or monster to appear, and let out a choked: “He- here?”

“Nobody is going to come this way anymore, darling… And you look especially good against that fake-mold wall,” he joked. Your own laugh died when one of his shadow tentacles slipped under your shirt, cupping your boob and flicking your nipple. You groaned and he looked at you like he was a predator and you were his next prey. You shivered again, your body filling with anticipation.

He touched you all over, his tentacles and hands were everywhere and you couldn’t stop moaning as you bite into his lips. You were fighting for dominance in a battle where nobody would lose. You were kissing like desperate souls finding each other again… and it was intoxicating. When you felt his tentacles lowering your pants and panties, you pulled away for a second, looking at his eyes trying to decipher what was going to happen next. He said nothing as he fell to his knees in front of you.

When he looked up at you, you felt like the most powerful woman in the world. Such a big scary monster was on his knees for you, to pleasure you. It was exhilarating and your pussy got wetter instantly. He probed it with his fingers and you cried out, moving your hips to get more friction. And when he grabbed your leg and put it over his shoulder, you almost lost yourself.

The first contact of his super long tongue against your pussy was like an electric shock, running down and making every cell in your body stand to attention. He didn’t give you time to prepare, before you knew it he was sucking and licking and rubbing and… driving you completely insane. You were almost there, so, so close you could almost feel it in the tip of your fingers. That’s when he decided to make his tentacles join in. A tentacle pressed softly against your asshole as another one pressed inside of you. The combination was too much for you, and you fell apart around him, screaming and thrashing as he held you down with his tentacles so you wouldn’t fall to the floor.

“That was… That was… wow,” you let out between heavy breaths. He chuckled, standing up and kissing you again. You could taste yourself in his lips, and that made you want to devour him even more. You reached his dick, but he batted your hand away. “But I…”

“This was for you. Also, there’s no time, I need to get you outside before your friends come looking for you,” he explained with a smile as he embraced you with his tentacles, pulling your pants and panties up your legs with the softest caress. Your legs were still weak when he guided you out of the haunted house.

He guided you outside slowly, letting you cling to his arm for balance, your knees still trembling after that earth shattering orgasm. Once you were out and you saw your friends looking around for you, at the same time they located you, he leaned down and whispered against your ear: “Hope next time I can fuck you properly, darling.” You blushed heavily and he laughed, pulling away until your friends reached you. They asked a few questions that you weren’t ready to ask and he cut them: "Can I have your phone number, then?" Without thinking too much about it, you gave it to him, ignoring your friend’s cheers and comments as you typed it on his phone.

[thelostconsultant]

Coffee addict

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

summary: The coffee machine dies late at night. Max (and Daniel) comes to your rescue.

“No, please, don’t do this to me.”

Max looked up when he heard your voice from the kitchen, and as he moved there to see what was happening, he heard your quiet pleads for something to start working. He couldn’t remember ever hearing you sound like this, so defeated and sad, and it made him wonder what was happening. And when his eyes fell on you as you wept next to the coffee machine, he had a bad feeling that it was related to your favorite item in that kitchen. 

Before he could ask you, though, you noticed him and immediately rushed over to where he was standing to wrap your arms around him, seeking comfort by burying your face into his chest. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked while his hand rubbed your back. 

“It doesn’t work. The screen went dark and I can’t make it work again. I tried everything,” you sobbed. 

Now, here’s the issue. You loved coffee. You were addicted to it. While he chose to drink a Red Bull to stay awake, you made yourself a nice, steaming cup of espresso from your favorite type of coffee beans several times a day. It wasn’t healthy, he knew that, but you were so happy as you sipped your favorite drink that he didn’t have the heart to stop you. Sometimes he managed to convince you to cheat, to drink a decaf coffee, and on days like this, you stuck to normal coffee in the morning and in the evening. 

He gently peeled you off of himself to take a look at the machine, but no matter what button he pressed, it didn’t do anything. With a sigh, he looked over at you. “I’m sorry for your loss.” You nodded as you wiped your tears with the sleeve of your hoodie. “Okay, it’s late, I’m sure I won’t reach a store to buy a new one, but how about going to that coffee shop around the corner? They must be open.”

You glance down at your phone that lies on the kitchen counter. “No, they closed half an hour ago,” you reply sadly. 

“Oh.” Max thought for a second, then raised a finger with a wide smile. “I have an idea. You stay here, I’ll be right back,” he said quickly before pressing a soft kiss on her lips. 

Once he’s sitting in his car with the engine running, he presses a few buttons on the touch screen to start a call. It rings a few times, then a familiar voice cheerfully greets him. “What do I owe the pleasure of getting a phone call so late?” he asked with a laugh. 

“Daniel, I need your coffee machine, I’m on my way to your place,” he states without hesitation. 

“My coffee machine? You know I use that, right?” 

“Not that one, the backup you kept after switching to the newer model. It’s an emergency, I’ll return it tomorrow once I buy a new one. Please?” he tried. There was a long sigh on the other end of the line, and this made him worry. “What is it?”

“I gave it away since then,” he replied. Max cursed under his breath, fighting the overwhelming need to hit the steering wheel. This was the best idea he had, and even this didn’t work out as planned. His friend let out a thoughtful hum that broke the silence, making him listen once again. “I have a big thermo mug, though. I can fill that for you,” he offered. 

Thanking both the universe and Daniel that there was a solution to the problem, he managed to calm down by the time he parked the car in front of the building the Aussie lived in. When he entered his apartment, he was welcomed with a sympathetic look. “The love of your life is suffering from withdrawal symptoms?” he asked, a barely noticeable smile visible on his lips. 

Nodding, Max followed him to the kitchen, then leaned against a counter with his arms folded over his chest. “She’s quite literally grieving right now. She was crying when it didn’t turn on,” he explained. 

Daniel poured each cup into the mug, but he listened to the story of the broken machine, sometimes coming up with suggestions. He even questioned if it was even plugged in, an idea that made the Dutchman groan. “Yes, I did check if it was plugged in. It was, yet it doesn’t work. I’ll go and buy a new one tomorrow, and I’m genuinely thinking about buying a simpler backup machine.”

Fifteen minutes later he entered his apartment, calling out for you immediately. You padded over to him with a questioning look, and when your eyes fell on the mug, your gaze full of hope and happiness moved over to his face. He nodded with a smile and handed it to you, but you chose to hug him instead. 

“You’re my hero. I love you so much,” you mumbled into his chest. 

He kissed your head, then moved back to once again offer you the mug. “I love you too. Now, drink before it turns cold. And tomorrow morning I’ll go to that coffee shop to get you a cup, okay?”

As you took the precious item from him, you let out a thoughtful hum. “We could have breakfast there,” you suggested. 

“Anything you want. Now, I’m getting into the sim rig for that race. Don’t stay up too late,” he warned you kindly before giving you another kiss.

[not-neverland06]

Hey I’m just begging for a fic of Logan with a shy reader that she has a crush on him but thinks he’s never going to fix on her since Jean exists (maybe the reader can make her hair color change depending on the emotion or something

a/n: sorry I haven’t been responding to asks. The new job has officially killed my spirit. But I got to work out finally and do some yoga so hopefully I’ll start feeling more motivated 🤞🤞this one will be shorter

Logan Howlett x X-men!reader (Chameleon)

“Chameleon!” You jump, shoulders flying up to your ears. Almost immediately you can feel the tips of your fingers tingling. Sure enough, when you look down they’re already disappearing. Sighing, you turn around and glare at Scott. 

“What have I told you about scaring me?” 

He grimaces, raising his hands in surrender. “Sorry, I forgot.”

You roll your eyes and turn back toward your project. “Every time,” you mutter bitterly. You’re not an idiot. You know he thinks scaring you is funny. The whole school does. They all like to see you yelp and blend in with the nearest surface, the only thing visible is your stupid hair. 

“You’re, um, turning red.” Scott points to your head and you don’t have to look to know your hair is shifting colors.

You reach over and swat harshly at his arm, “Because you pissed me off! I know you scare me on purpose,” you accuse, jabbing your finger into his chest. He laughs and stumbles away from you. 

“Alright, alright, calm down. I was just messing around a little. Look,” he glances down at the lesson plans before you and sighs. “All this will have to wait. Charles needs us all for a mission.”

You huff and shove the papers into your desk drawer. “Alright, lead the way.” You feel Scott’s eyes still lingering on your hair and glare at him. “Move it, Summers,” you demand. 

You were already in a bad mood, you didn’t need him making it worse. It honestly shouldn’t be such a big deal for you. You get scared by everyone all the time. You used to enjoy it, enjoyed the way it felt like you all had your own joke. But, eventually, it started to feel less like an inside joke and more like you’re the unwitting butt of one. 

Some mutants get amazing powers, like Jean or Charles. Logan’s abilities are incredible, even if he doesn’t believe you when you tell him that. But yours, well, you're better suited as the cheap gimmick of a children’s birthday party than an X-Men. You’re just a walking mood ring that blends in with her environment. 

The only thing you’re good for is reconnaissance missions and embarrassing yourself. You don’t know what Charles sees in you. You’ve never understood why he insists you’re such a good asset to the team. Yes, you are good at spying on people, but you don’t need to when Charles has such strong telepathic abilities. You’re essentially useless in a fight due to a lack of regenerative or strength abilities. 

More often than not you feel like a child playing dress up, chasing after the big kids. You know the others don’t mean anything bad by it when they tease you into going invisible or laugh when your hair changes. It’s all in good fun. But it doesn’t make you feel any less like easy entertainment rather than a teammate. 

It doesn’t help that you’ve got little to no control over your abilities when it comes to Logan. You’ve never had such a horrifically bad crush like this. Anytime he opens his mouth around you, you're fighting off the urge to just go invisible and run away. You feel like you go feral around him. You don’t know how he hasn’t caught onto what the colors of your hair mean when you’re near him. 

It’s constantly switching between some odd mix of red and pink when you talk. Which, you know what it means, but you’re praying no one else does. Red can mean angry, depending on whether you’re talking to Scott or not. You know, though, that with Logan it just means you want to jump his bones and you’re hopelessly in love with him. 

Thankfully, like the others, he associates red with anger. Which isn’t great for you because that just means he thinks every time he opens his mouth you’re pissed off. At yourself, maybe, but at him, never. It just means when he wears those stupid tanktops you want to dig your teeth into his biceps and never let go. 

Scott opens the door to the meeting room and you slide in past him. Charles gives you a brief smile as a greeting. You take the chair at the end of the table, which just happens to be next to Logan - completely coincidental. He gives you a tense smile and you return it stiffly. You tug your hood over your hair, praying he doesn’t notice the red in your strands yet. You don’t want him to think you hate him. You completely prefer that over him knowing how feral you are for him, but it’s not conducive to your slow plan to finally get him to acknowledge you as a sexual partner. 

You swear, if your name isn’t Jean Grey, you might as well just be a shapeless blob of nothing. He glances over at her, that smoldering look in his eyes, and you try not to throw up in your mouth. Scott wraps an arm around Jean’s shoulders and they break their lingering stares. 

Logan glances over at you and catches the glare on your face before you can get rid of it. He huffs and turns towards Charles. With a sigh, you sink back into your chair and focus on not just going invisible. 

“Chameleon,” Charles says your name and your eyes widen. You wonder how much you’ve missed while you’ve been glaring at the back of Jean’s head. “Does that sound alright with you?”

You look around the table for help but they’re all staring expectantly at you. “Sure,” you stumble over the word, racking your brain for any answers. It seems not even your subconscious was paying attention to Charles droning on. “Sounds great.” He gives you a satisfied nod. 

“Good. Off to the jet, all of you.” he rolls out of the room and you wait until he’s out of earshot to kick Logan under the table. 

He glances back at you, smirking. “Don’t know what you agreed to?”

You purse your lips and shake your head. “Nope,” he gives you a look like he knew you’d say that. You hate how well he can read you when it feels like you’re constantly hitting walls trying to understand him. 

“You’re scoping a place out for us. Making sure it’s safe so we can retrieve some information.” You give him a thankful look and he chuckles. “You need to start paying attention, kid.”

You groan and get up from your chair, brushing past him. “I told you to quit calling me that.” It makes you feel like that’s all he’ll ever see you as, some kid invited onto the team. You want him to see you as someone he could have sex with, hopefully, love one day. 

He glances past you at Jean. She smiles at him and you fight everything inside you to not roll your eyes and gag at them. She’s holding onto Scott and making fuck me eyes at Logan, which he’s happily returning. This is just too disgusting for you. 

You shove past him and ignore how he calls out your name. Your real name. He’s the only one that uses it. For some reason, most people just refer to you by Chameleon. You don’t understand why. They just don’t seem to think of you outside your abilities as a mutant. 

You make it to the jet before the others, taking the private time to change into your X-Men suit. If there’s one useful thing about your ability, it’s that it affects whatever’s touching you. Which means, you don’t have to strip naked to go completely invisible. And if anyone is around you, all you have to do is hold onto them and they’ll blend in too. 

You’re tugging up the zipper of your top as Logan walks in. He gives you an odd look, sitting on the bench in front of you. “Angry about something?” He asks, gaze darting up to your head. 

You drag your fingers over the ends of your hair and sigh. “No,” you tell him bluntly, taking the seat beside him. 

His brows furrow in confusion. “It’s red, though,” he points out, his tone colored in suspicion. 

You laugh a little, “Red doesn’t always mean angry.” It’s the most you’ve ever confided about your hair colors to him. The largest hint you’ve ever given him that you don’t hate him. You’re worried if he knew how you really felt about him, he’d think you were a little creep. 

He slides his arm behind you on the bench, leaning in until you’re practically sharing the same air. You know your eyes are comically large, you don’t even want to know what color your hair is turning right now. “What else does it mean, kid?” He whispers and you don’t even pay attention to the nickname. All you can see and hear right now is him. How close he is, how close your lips are. 

You could lean forward an inch or two and you’d be kissing. “Um,” you swallow harshly around the lump in your throat. You don’t even know what he asked you, all you can think about now is kissing him. 

“Logan!” Ororo’s voice echoes through the jet and you leap away from him, trying to calm your racing heart. Logan sighs and leans back in his seat, giving Storm a tense smile. She glances at you and laughs, “She’s nearly see-through, what are you doing to her?”

You frown and look down at your hands. Sure enough, you’re going translucent. You let out a silent groan, and tuck your knees into your chest. You take a few deep breaths until you’re one solid form again. It’s so embarrassing when that happens, when you lose control over yourself like that. 

But it’s even worse when Logan does it to you. He gives you hope, stupid, hateful hope, for one minute that he might feel something deeper. Only for it to be another joke. You’re a walking mood ring, nothing more than a quick laugh to all of them. 

Jean walks up the ramp, her gaze going to Logan first before drifting towards you. “Are you alright?” She mutters, trying not to let the others hear. Of course, Logan can, with his stupid enhanced abilities. “You’re turning blue,” she points out and you roll your eyes. 

You can feel Logan’s stare burning holes into the side of your head and it only makes you feel worse. You hate being a joke, but you also hate showing them just how much it affects you. You don’t want to seem like a crybaby that can’t handle a little teasing. But you’d thought coming to Charles’ school meant people would stop poking fun at you. It feels like being dragged right back into high school. 

“I’m fine,” you tell her. She doesn’t look like she believes you but she takes a seat anyway. Of course, placing herself right next to Logan, even though her fiancee is a few feet away from her, looking just as hurt as you. They lean into each other and whisper. They’re not even trying to hide it anymore. You let your glare bore into the floor, ignoring how much seeing them together hurts. 

The mission had gone well, Logan had been hoping to go to the bar and grab a drink with you. But the second his back is towards you, you’re running off the jet. Logan calls out your name, trying to catch up. You glance back at him, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. He smiles at you and your eyes widen. You go invisible and Logan glances around, baffled. 

He calls out your name again but the door ahead of him opens and closes quickly. He can only assume you’ve run away again. You always run away from him. You’re always pissed off at him. He doesn’t know what Jean’s talking about when she says you like him. 

Logan’s never met anyone more repulsed by him. 

“Would you just trust me?” Jean tells him lowly, creeping up behind him. 

His face falls and he turns to her, glaring at her knowing smirk. “She just fuckin’ ran away from me. Pretty sure that’s about as good a hint as I’m gonna get, Jean.”

She glances over her shoulder, waving Scott away and looping her arm through Logan’s. “You’re an idiot, Howlett.” He scoffs and she swats at his shoulder. “Trust me, I can read minds, remember?”

Of course, he knows she’s got some pretty decent telepathic abilities. But he didn’t think she would so brazenly breach your boundaries. There’s an unspoken rule that the mind readers of the school don’t delve into your brain without permission. 

She sees the look on his face and sighs. “I didn’t read her mind. She got drunk a little while ago and told me about her raging crush on you,” she laughs a little at your expense and Logan lets out a short chuckle. You can be a pretty sloppy drunk if they let you go too far. He figures it was one of those girl’s nights he wants nothing to do with. You’d probably let the tight reigns you keep on yourself slip for once. 

“She goes red every time she sees me. I don’t know what else that could mean other than she hates me.” Logan isn’t surprised that you’re not taken with him like he is with you. He’s used to the rejection, but it hurts just a bit more coming from you. You’re so welcoming to the others. 

You embrace every new member of the school with open arms. Yet, with him, you get angry whenever you see him. You see through his walls, see the rot lurking underneath them. And, rightfully, want nothing to do with him. He understands your reasoning. 

Most days he barely wants anything to do with himself. He’s made a lot of bad choices in his life, half of which he can’t remember. But he’d hoped, for one minute, that you might give him a second chance. As much as Jean insists otherwise, he can see the truth of how you feel about him every time you run away. 

“Red doesn’t always mean anger,” Jean tells him elusively. It’s the same thing you’d said to him on the jet. It makes his brows furrow in confusion and he glares at her. 

“What else could it mean?” He demands sharply, sick of her teasing him with the possibility you might feel the same way. 

She bites her lip, looking suddenly sheepish. “I can’t say-”

“Jean,” Logan snaps. He stops her from walking any further, keeping her planted in one spot with him. “Tell me,” he’s sick of the games you’re both playing with him. He just wants some straight fucking answers. How hard is that?

She sighs and looks away from him. “I promised her I wouldn’t tell.”

“And I’m sure you promised you also wouldn’t tell me how she feels about me,” he points out. There’s a sharp tone to his voice, it’s rude but he can’t bother feeling guilty about it. 

She can’t meet his eye, a smirk fighting at the corner of her lips. He waits impatiently for her answer, irritation broiling quickly in his gut. He’s about to snap at her again when she finally meets his eyes. 

She speaks through a laugh, like what she’s about to say is so ridiculous she can’t hold it in. “She wants,” she cuts herself off with another laugh and Logan groans in frustration. He begins to walk away from her when she yells, “She wants to fuck you!” At his back. 

His eyes widen in surprise before he turns back to her with a displeased look. “Are you fuckin’ with me?” He demands, narrowing his eyes at her suspiciously. 

She shakes her head and brushes past him. “You didn’t hear it from me,” she warns, tone grave as she leaves the room. 

Logan is left standing in the same spot, stunned at the revelation. He’s not sure how much of that he believes. But he doesn’t understand why Jean would possibly lie to him about this. She gains nothing by setting him up for failure. As much as he doubts the honesty behind her words, he’s got no other choice but to trust them. 

He heads to the most likely place you’re hiding out. Charles has a private library that’s blocked off from the kids. There are too many first editions in there, he can’t risk any of them accidentally blowing them up. You like to head there when you’re trying to avoid people. 

He tries to stay quiet as he walks in, not wanting you to run off again. It’s hard to confront someone who goes invisible whenever she feels like it. He sees light blue hair draped over the back of an armchair. He feels like a creep as he stalks towards you, sneaking and pouncing on you so you can’t run away. 

He can’t imagine how Jean ever thought him approaching you would be a good idea. He whispers your name, trying not to startle you. It doesn’t take a genius to see how much you hate when the others scare you. They might not mean anything bad by it, but they have to be blind not to see how much it pisses you off. 

You still jump, glancing up at him with a surprised look. He looks to your hair for any tells of how you feel. Some pink weaves its way through the stands but it otherwise stays relatively blue. His brows furrow in confusion, he can’t tell if it’s a good or bad sign that there’s no red. 

“How are ya, kid? Ran off pretty quick earlier.” 

“Don’t call me that,” you mutter, giving him a brief glare before staring absently down at the book in your hands. Logan kneels beside your armchair, covering the pages with his hand. You huff, giving him an expectant look. “Yes, Logan?” You demand, tone short.

Logan tilts his head, examining you and your body language. You seem relatively closed off, irritated at him or something else. He doesn’t know what to say. He’s never been good with words or trying to express how he feels. He’s more comfortable showing how much he cares for those around him. 

Throwing caution to the wind, he lets his hand drift to your wrist and tugs you forward. Your eyes widen as he drags you toward him. The kiss is short, he doesn’t want to push you too much. But it takes everything in him to stop himself from deepening it. All he wants is to pull you into his arms and devour you. 

He holds back, parting from you with a low exhale. Your eyes flutter open and he grins when he sees the bright red your hair has turned. “What,” you sputter and stumble over your words. You shove him back and leap to your feet. “What the hell was that?” You demand, voice higher than he’s ever heard of it. “What was that?” You ask him shrilly, again. 

You almost seem to be stuck in a loop, blinking rapidly and asking the same thing. Logan chuckles and gets to his feet, he gives you a knowing look and you narrow your eyes at him in disbelief. 

“Jean told me.”

Your brows furrow and you shake your head. Realization dawns on your face and you gasp, looking up at him with something like horror on your expression. “No,” you tell him lowly. “She didn’t,” it almost sounds like you’re begging him to tell you otherwise. 

He laughs again and your face falls. You start going clear, he can see the bookshelf through your stomach and he sighs. He grabs your hand, holding onto you before you can run again. You don’t even seem to be aware that you’re slowly disappearing from view. 

“She’s, uh,” he struggles to figure out what to say to make you feel better. “She’s been coaching me,” he admits shamefully. “Trying to help me talk to you.”

You glance up at him but he can barely see your expression. The only thing reassuring him you’re here is his grip on you and your voice. “What? But I thought that-” You cut yourself off quickly and Logan glares down at where he thinks your face is. 

“Thought what?”

You take a long pause and exhale deeply. “I thought,” you mutter, “you liked her.”

“She’s with Scott,” he points out bluntly. He can practically hear you roll your eyes, even if he can’t see it. 

“Yeah, I know. But you guys are always whispering to each other and making googly eyes.”

“Googly eyes?” He interrupts, disgust clear in his tone. 

“I was wrong,” you continue, ignoring him. “I see that now, but I thought you didn’t care about me.”

Logan huffs, he hates that you thought that. He should have just been open with you from the start. He’s faced rejection his whole life, he shouldn’t have been so petrified of it just because it could come from you. If he’d just manned up and told you earlier, it would have saved you both a lot of time and hurt. 

“Kid,” he hopes he’s making eye contact with you and not just staring at some random book. It’s really hard to tell when you go invisible like this. “You’re the only person I care about in here.”

You’re quiet for a long while and he worries you’ve somehow slipped away without him realizing. But, ever so slowly, you start coming back into view. Logan awkwardly averts his eyes from your breasts, he’d been hoping he was making eye contact with you, clearly, he was wrong. 

“You mean that?” You ask, and he hates the trepidation in your voice. He’s never been good with words, he doesn’t know how to tell you how much you mean to him. But he can show you. 

His hand drifts up your arm, wrapping around the back of your neck and tugging you towards him. You trip over your feet, hands landing on his chest to stabilize yourself. He leans down, hovering over your lips for a moment. He waits until your eyes drift shut and your lips purse impatiently before he finally kisses you again. 

He doesn’t hold himself back this time. He pours every racing thought he’s ever had about you, every one of his wanted-to-tell-you-how-he-feels-and-hasn’t moments into the kiss. Your hands slowly curl up into his shirt, wrinkling it and tugging him further into you. 

To his surprise, you deepen the kiss, mouth moving over his like you want to devour him whole. He’s sure if he opened his eyes your hair would be a bright roaring red. He smirks against your lips, happy that, for once, he actually listened to Jean. If it gets him results like this, he might have to do it more often. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp ♡ 

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral @wolviesgirl @allllium @insomniachox @izbelross  ♡ 

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

October 03 - Ice Play

pairing: dom!Wanda x sub!Reader

summary: Wanda surprises you with ice, working you up until you can't take it anymore. And then... she keeps going.

content warnings: fingering, cunnilingus, blindfold, restraints, overstimulation

word count: 1.5k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

The sound of glass clinking jars you, your ears listening for Wanda’s footsteps as she walks towards the bed. You’re currently tied to the four posts, spread eagle style. The blindfold had been Wanda’s idea, and you could feel the anticipation mixing with a heavy dose of arousal. 

The bed dips, and you feel warmth from Wanda’s body radiating near your hips. The calming scent of warm vanilla reaches you, and you feel your head spin as you inhale deeply. 

“Wanda?” 

“Mhmm, I’m right here baby. Relax, okay?” Wanda’s voice is low, and you feel your body listening to her command. The sound of her voice sends shivers down your spine, and goosebumps trail up your arms as you hear the glass-clinking sound again. 

“I want to see how worked up you get from this,” Wanda murmurs, almost too quiet for you to hear. It's as if she’s speaking to herself, a soft reminder of what she’s planned for tonight. 

Squirming, you inch your body closer to Wanda, or, as far as your restraints will allow. She chuckles, scooting further onto the bed until her hip meets your waist, the warmth against you grounding you. 

You sigh, letting yourself relax slightly as you sense her moving slightly. Her hips aren’t budging, so you assume she’s doing something with her hands. Fuck, the anticipation is absolutely delicious. 

Without warning, you feel something cold near your neck. You gasp, hearing Wanda’s low chuckle as she drags something cold and hard up your throat, circling it around the sensitive spot just below your ear. 

Something drips down the side of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. It feels like water droplets, and you quickly put two and two together and call out to Wanda. 

“Are you… Wanda, is that ice?”

“Mhmm,” she says, dragging the cube down your neck again and over your collarbones. “Such a smart submissive I have.” 

You can feel your body heating up at the praise, the cold trail of water from your neck sending an ache straight to your core. Wanda’s hand moves lower, and you feel your nipples straining as they harden, the ice moving closer until they’re rock hard. 

“Oh, fuck,” you mutter, gasping slightly as Wanda circles your right nipple with the ice cube. You want to beg her to move quicker, to keep working your body up, but you know that would only make her slow down and really take her time with you. 

As if she was reading your mind, Wanda suddenly moved the ice cube without warning, placing it directly over your nipple as you let out an involuntary moan and arched your back. Your chest thrusts up against the sensation, both pain and pleasure coursing through your body from the coldness. 

All too quickly, Wanda removed the ice cube. You were about to protest, before you felt her hot, strong tongue against your nipple. The suddenness of the temperature change made your head spin, and you whimpered when her cold fingers moved to your left nipple to twist it as you breathed heavily. 

Twisting her tongue, Wanda applied a slight suction with her lips, and you nearly cried from the aching pleasure building inside you. 

“Oh, please. I- god I need you. Please, Wanda,” you begged, not really knowing what you were asking for. 

She didn’t seem to mind, and you felt her lips smile from where they were wrapped around your nipple, before she gently bit down. 

Yelping, you felt a wave of wetness leak from you. God, it was all becoming too much, too quickly. You felt desperate, your hands training against their restraints as you rutted your hips up in search of any friction. 

“Calm down, baby. I’ve only just started,” Wanda’s voice sounded out, and you felt her lips and fingers disappear. 

You were about to protest, when you heard glass clinking again. You prepared yourself, feeling your nipples aching slightly from both the stimulation of Wanda’s fingers and the pleasant burn from the ice cube. 

This time, Wanda didn’t drag the ice over your body, she placed it directly over your right nipple. You had barely enough time to process before her lips were on yours and her ice-cold tongue was pushing its way inside your mouth. 

You moaned, your tongue responding to hers and freezing slightly. Was that? 

Holy fuck, Wanda had an ice cube in her mouth as she was kissing you. She let it slide over her tongue and onto yours, the coldness of it startling you slightly. Moving her tongue against yours, she kissed you soundly until the ice cube had melted. 

Her fingers smeared the remainder of the ice and melted water over your right breast, your nipple feeling as though it was on fire as waves of pleasure coursed through you. 

“You’re doing so good for me, darling,” Wanda praised, kissing you one last time before her body warmth disappeared completely. 

Taking in a shaky breath, you strained your ears for any sign of her. The heat between your legs was becoming unbearable, and you could feel your own wetness as it gathered. 

Cold fingers trailed over your hips, an ice cube dragging along your skin, and you felt your heart rate spike as you realized what Wanda was about to do. 

“No, wait. Please, I can’t take it. Don’t use an ice cube down there, it'll make me cum, the sensation will be too much,” you pleaded, and Wanda’s fingers slowed their path, the ice cube melting in the dip between your hips and stomach. 

“What’s your color, sweetheart?” 

You threw your head back, preparing yourself. “Green.”

“Good. Now stop complaining and let me have fun.” Wanda’s accent crept into her syllables, and you whispered out a confirmation that you heard her. 

The ice cube continued its path, until it rested just above your clit.

“I want to hear you beg for it.”

You let out a moan. God, you loved it when she made you admit that you wanted something, even though you protested against it. 

“Fuck. Um… please. I want you to work me up with your ice cube and your talented fingers until the sensations make me cum. And then I want you to do whatever you want, as long as you keep that ice cube on my most sensitive parts as my brain turns into mush and you watch me fall apart beneath you,” you didn’t care how desperate it sounded, and you were rewarded with Wanda’s lips gently kissing your cheek. 

“Good, that’s much better.” 

The ice cube moved quickly, pressing directly over your protruding clit as you let out a high-pitched moan. Wanda’s fingers moved rapidly circling the ice cube over your clit as your orgasm built, your body protesting against the painful stimulation even as pleasure raced through your veins. 

It didn’t take long for you to cum, your arousal smearing over Wanda’s fingers as she fetched another ice cube and fingered it inside you. She didn’t stop, bringing you to another orgasm as she popped the last ice cube in your mouth and wrapped her tongue around your nipples. 

You could feel the water from the ice cube inside you melting around her fingers as she fucked you roughly, the burning coldness against your tongue contrasting perfectly with the heat thrumming through your body. 

It didn’t take long until another orgasm came over you, your body shaking from both the cold and the overstimulating pleasure. 

“One last ice cube baby, then we can be done,” Wanda whispered, before placing the ice cube on your stomach. It started to melt slightly, settling into the divot where your belly button was. 

“If the ice cube moves off your stomach, I’m going to refill another glass and keep this up,” Wanda said, her tone low.  

You nodded, focusing on staying very still as you felt Wanda’s cold tongue tracing through your folds and swirling around your clit. It was overwhelming in the best possible way, and you fought against your orgasm as she built you up. You knew that the ice cube would move if you came, since you couldn’t control your body while orgasming. 

Wanda didn’t care, her fingers slipping inside you and curling perfectly as your breaths shortened and your back started to arch. 

“Oh, please. Wait, don’t…”

You didn’t get to finish, your body convulsing with pleasure as your orgasm ripped through you. The ice cube, almost fully melted, slid down your side and rested beneath your body as you felt Wanda’s fingers and tongue coaxing the last tendrils of pleasure from you. 

“That’s a shame, love. I’ll be right back, take a few minutes to recover,” Wanda said, kissing your clit and causing your hips to jerk. 

You heard her low laughter as she walked towards the door, the sound of ice filling a cup making your clit throb in protest. 

The sound of footsteps made your pulse quicken, and you turned your head towards the door as you heard Wanda set the glass down on the nightstand. 

“Just remember, you asked for this,” Wanda murmured, kissing you gently. She pulled your blindfold off, her smile wide and pupils blown as she held up an ice cube between her fingers.  You don’t really remember the rest of that night, but the echoes of burning cold pleasure remained for days afterward. Maybe you should tie Wanda down next time and see if she liked it.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

˚⋆｡ thinking about Ford who. . .✧˚ (x fem!reader)

minors don’t interact

Who can’t help himself.

His mind never really stops working, even when he’s inside you, moving so slow that has you writhing beneath him. His cock buried inside you, stretching you out inch by inch, but even now, his thoughts are somewhere between the galaxies and the stars. His cock pulses inside you, making you feel so good, but it’s not enough and yet he's still talking about the fabric of the universe. 

“You know. . . mmm, parallel dimensions have an infinite number of variables, but if you—" his breath hitches as he rolls his hips deeper, forcing your body to arch. “if you narrow them to specific constants you find— hahh, patterns.” little moan escapes your lips, needy, as his cock drags slowly against your walls.

His voice is calm, even steady despite the unhurried, delicious way he's fucking you, but you're barely listening. How could you? Every thrust has your mind blanking, leaving nothing but pleasure pooling low in your belly. Your nails digging into his back, you feel so abandoned each time he pulls out, only to have him slide back in with agonizing precision.

"Forddd. . .” you moan, head falling back into the pillow, begging for more, for faster. But his rhythm is controlled, measured, its like he’s savouring the way your cunt grips him, tight and so damn warm as he’s balls deep inside you.

“Dimensional travel. . . it’s not just theoretical, you see,” Ford’s voice is calm, as if he’s lecturing a class and not thrusting into your slick, dripping pussy, as if you’re not clenching around him so tight it’s driving you both insane. “If we can manipulate space-time— like this. . .” he punctuates his words with a deep thrust, his cock dragging against your soft walls in a way that makes your whole body shake. “we can alter outcomes. Mm, t-that means every choice you make branches into— fuck, you’re tight— into infinite possibilities.”

You can hardly breathe, can barely think because of the pressure building between your legs and he’s still talking. God, he’s still talking. You hear him, even if barely, something about gravitational fields and parallel worlds, but it’s all turning into a blur with your eyes rolling in the back of your head when he hits that sweet spot inside again and again.

“You like it when I explain things to you,” Ford claims. “It turns you on, doesn’t it?”

You can’t even find the words to respond, because yes, you love it and fuck, you hate that you love it. All you can do is mewl and whimper, your hips rolling against him in a futile attempt to make him pick up the pace. He knows, god, he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“Ford, please—!” his cock slides deeper, but that serious, calm tone, fuck, it’s driving you wild. You want him to stop talking, to focus, to pound into you like you need, but his voice just keeps spilling from his lips like honey. Your head rolls back, lips parting in pathetic little gasps and moans, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. You can’t take it anymore, he’s teasing you, playing with you, dragging it out just to see how far he can push you before you break. “please, faster!” you plead, desperate for more, desperate for him to stop talking and just fuck you properly, hard and fast. But he’s still so calm, still so fucking unflappable. 

“Oh? you’re getting impatient?” Ford’s hand slides down your trembling thigh, lifting it higher, opening you up even more to him. “You wanted to learn about interdimensional physics, didn’t you?” he mumbles under his breath as he grinds into you, his cock plunging deeper, completely filling you and it feels like a dream for both of you. “I’m just giving you what you wanted.”

His fingers finds your needy clit, rubbing in torturous circles as he continues that slow rhythm inside you. He’s barely breaking a sweat, his brow furrowed in concentration as if this is just another experiment to him meanwhile you’re such a mess under him. His cock twitches inside you as he changes angle again, deeper now and he takes a sharp breath, but he doesn’t stop talking. 

He doesn’t stop and you hate him.

Ford’s eyes roam over your trembling body, reveling in the sight of you, desperate and needy. Your eyes watery and mouth open in a breathless moan.

“The fascinating thing about dimensional shifts— god, you feel so good,” he trails off for a moment, and you think, finally, he’s losing focus. You roll your hips against his, hoping to break his composure. But instead of faltering, he chuckles, leaning down only to plant a small kiss on your lips. “you’re trying to distract me, aren’t you?”

“Fuck, p-pleasee!” you whine, spreading your legs wider, trying to press up against him, but he pins you down.

“Clever girl,” he mutters, voice rougher now, losing some of that composed edge as he looks at you, the desperate need written all over your cute face. “letting me teach you like this.”

He pulls out, almost completely, leaving you aching, empty, before slamming back into you hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs. "That’s my girl." his words make you cry out his name over and over again, your nails digging into his back as he starts to fuck you better, properly, his pace quicker, rougher now, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress.

He’s no longer focused on explaining the mysteries of the universe, he’s focused on you, on how your body responds to him, on how good it feels to have you wrapped around him, hot and wet and perfect, on how your wetness and slick coating his length. The sounds of skin slapping against skin fills the air, mixing with your desperate, needy moans and his groans when he finally fucks you the way you wanted, he ruts into you faster, harder, and it’s everything you needed, everything you craved. 

“Ford— oh fuck,” you cry out, head thrown back and he’s there, finally losing himself in the way your cunt clenching around him, making such wet squelching sounds, he’s lost in the way you’re moaning his name, voice so beautiful. You’re nearly drooling as you give him a silly smile, begging him to finish inside you.

“Cum for me,” he growls, his hand sliding down, thumb finding your clit and pressing down in fast circles what makes your head spin. “I want to feel you— cum for me, now.” you arch your back as the orgasm crashes through you, you walls flutter around him, the sensations are so intense you can’t even scream, only shake and try to cross your legs because pleasure is fucking overwhelming, though Ford never stops thrusting into your wetness. You’re trembling, mind blank as you cling onto him, holding him, feeling him.

Ford groans at the beautiful sight, his clever girl looks so pretty when she’s dumb fucked and cock drunk. However Ford is lost in pleasure too, your pussy feels so warm, so tight and good he just can’t stop fucking you. But he’s damn close. He grits his teeth, taking a deep breath, thrusting into you so hard, burying himself so fucking deep, his cock twitching as he spills into you, filling you up with every last drop. Finally, finally. He’s breathing heavily into your lips, glasses fogged, his chest heaving. You just lay there, taking it like a good girl you are.

Ford can’t stop looking at you, he kisses your forehead, softly and gentle. “Now. . . where were we? Ah, yes. Dimensional theory.”

You can’t help but laugh, head still spinning as he pulls you close, already starting to ramble again about parallel worlds and universal constants, like he wasn’t just inside you, fucking you senseless.

And honestly you wouldn’t have him any other way.

[tetsuissohot]

☆summary. an argument leads to a sloppy and wet apology.  

☆warning/tags: 18+, fem!reader, angst to smut, curse words, tittie sucking, fingering, penetration, ends with fluff, mention of cum, unprotected sex 

☆word count: 2.8k

☆a/n: please note that English is not my first language, and I am also dyslexic, so there may be some mistakes. However, I do my best to minimize them.

please support your creators! Reblogs and comments are really appreciated!

Shut Up, Darling.

It wasn’t typical for you and Kento to argue. In truth, he wasn’t home much anyway—most days you barely managed a quick "Good morning" before he left, so there wasn’t even time to pick a fight. But today—today your patience finally snapped. Like every other day, Kento had left for work before you woke up, and by the time he got home, you’d already eaten dinner and were lying in bed. He hadn’t even bothered to respond to your texts, where you simply asked if he was okay.  

That silence hurt. After all, he was your boyfriend of years, and yet he felt distant, like a stranger. You felt ignored and neglected. The pain of it all, especially coming from him, stung deeply. When you did talk to him, it was like speaking to a machine, one that repeated the same, emotionless phrases—"I’m sorry," "It’s my job," "You’re right." Yet nothing ever changed.  

“Why are you still awake, sweetie?” Kento asked as he stepped into the bedroom. His blonde hair was disheveled, his tie hanging loosely around his neck, and the first two buttons of his shirt undone. He lingered by the door, looking at you with mild curiosity—you were usually asleep by now.  

You set the novel you’d been reading down on the nightstand and glanced up at him. “I was waiting for you.”  

Kento raised an eyebrow, still standing by the door. “Waiting for me? You should’ve gone to sleep. I told you I’d be late again.”  

You sighed, sitting up in bed, your patience already thin. “That’s the thing, Kento. You’re always late. Every day, you leave before I wake up and come back when I’m already asleep. I don’t even know what’s going on with you anymore.”  

He ran a hand through his messy hair, a small frown forming. “You know it’s work. We’ve talked about this.”   

“Yeah, we have,” you shot back, voice sharper than you intended. “But talking doesn’t change anything. I feel like I don’t even exist to you anymore. You don’t answer my texts, you don’t check in—it's like you’re a ghost in your own home.”  

Kento's gaze dropped, his hands slipping into his pockets as he stepped further into the room. “That’s not fair. I’m doing everything I can for us. My job—”  

“Your job,” you interrupted, your frustration bubbling over, “isn't an excuse to completely shut me out. I’m not just some background noise you can tune out when it’s convenient. I’m your girlfriend, Kento. We’re supposed to be a team, and I feel like I’m in this alone.”  

He exhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the conversation. “You know I love you. I’m sorry, I just... I don’t know how to balance it all.”  

“You always say that,” you muttered, fighting to keep your voice steady. “But nothing ever changes. What are we even doing if we don’t make time for each other?”  

There was a long pause, the room heavy with unspoken words. Kento’s jaw tightened, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low but firm. “I don’t know what you want me to say. This is how things are right now. I’m doing the best I can.”  

You looked at him, your heart aching. “I don’t need perfect, Kento. I just need you. And lately, it feels like I’ve lost you.”  

Kento’s face hardened, his calm demeanor cracking as he stepped further into the room. "What exactly do you want from me?" he snapped, his voice rising in frustration. "I’m breaking my back out there every day for us, and all you do is sit here and complain about how I’m not around enough!"  

Your heart pounded in your chest, anger bubbling up. “Complain? Complain? You don’t get it, do you? I’m not asking for much—just for you to act like you care, to show me that I still matter!”  

His eyes narrowed. "You matter? You think I’m out there working insane hours because you don’t matter? This is what I’m talking about—you’re never satisfied!" His voice was sharper than you’d ever heard, each word like a blade. “I can’t be everything for you when I’m doing everything for you!”  

You stood up from the bed, your hands trembling as your voice broke. "And I didn’t ask you to do all of this at the cost of our relationship, Kento! I’m tired of feeling like I’m talking to a wall, like you’ve already checked out of us!"  

"Jesus Christ," Kento muttered under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides. "Can you just—" He suddenly stepped forward, his presence towering over you. His voice dropped, cold and cutting, he raised his hand and aggressively, but not in a hurtful way, he squeezed your cheeks. "Just shut your fucking mouth."  

The words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, you froze, stunned by his outburst. Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you in one swift movement, pulling your face with his hand and crashing his lips against yours in an aggressive, forceful kiss.  

His hand left your cheek, now both hands are sliding behind your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you even closer, deepening the kiss. There was a desperate edge to the way held you, like he was trying to communicate something he couldn't put into words. His lips were demanding, a raw intensity that stole your breath.   

At first, you were too shocked to respond, but the heat between you grew undeniable, igniting something primal in the pit of your stomach. Slowly, your body responded on its own - your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the tension beneath your fingertips. His kiss softened, shifting from anger to something more fervent, almost pleading. You could feel his heart pounding, his breath shaky as if he'd lost control for a moment and didn't know how to find it again.  

Your lips moved together now with more rhythm, the urgency still there but tempered by something deeper, more vulnerable. His thumb brushed over your jaw; a surprisingly gentle touch that made your knees feel weak.   

You leaned into him, letting the kiss consume you both, feeling the weight of everything unsaid between you. The world seemed to blur around you as the kiss deepened, his body pressing against yours, grounding you in the intensity of the moment.   

The anger that had been in his kiss moments ago was now replaced with something else desire, maybe. Or perhaps even an apology, though no words were spoken. Finally, when you both broke apart, gasping for air, his forehead rested against yours. The tension between you crackled in the air, but the anger had dissipated, leaving something raw and real behind. You could still taste the kiss on your lips, the weight of his emotions lingering in the space between you.  

Your heart raced, torn between anger and the raw intensity of his touch. He finally spoke, his breath hot against your face as his eyes bore into yours. “Kindly, shut up, darling,” he whispered, his voice laced with both anger and something deeper, something almost desperate.  

He didn’t wait for you to speak – he just told you to shut up after all; his hands grabbed your hips, and they traveled under your pajama pants, his fingers digging into your skin.  He guided your body closer to the bed – his breath was unsteady, just like yours “Shit-” he groaned in a low husky voice. He pushed you down on the bed, your body slightly jumping from the bounciness of the mattress – you gasp, you were mad at him, but your pussy apparently wasn’t, your clit was already on fire with just one fierce full kiss, and the girl wanted more than just a kiss, shit – you could already feel your heart beating in between your legs.   

Kento didn’t waste time and got on top of you, his knees trapping you beneath him, his hands next to your head, before he got closer, he looked you up and down – God, you looked so good in your pajamas. He leans down, his hot breath hitting your neck, one of his hands leaves the spot next to your head and moves under your shirt, traveling up and down your stomach; his lips meet your body again, and he leaves soft wet kisses in your neck as he hums. They’re low sexy hums, the sound of his voice almost makes your ears orgasm if they could. “Kento...” you softly huff his name.   

“Shh, darling,” he says against your neck, his breath tickling your skin, your body shivers and you can feel your panties slowly getting soaked. He kisses your neck again “I’m sorry sweetie-” he whispers in between the wet kisses. The hand on your stomach travels further up, and he takes hold of your boob and squeezes it, your nipple grinds in the middle of his fingers, and you gasp - “I didn't mean to be rude to you, I’m just tired.” he says before kissing your temple. The sound of your gasp and your heavy breathing, the feeling of your boob under his hand and your hard nipple between his fingers makes something inside of him grow – and in his pants too.   

He pulls away and once again, takes a good look at you, his gaze is full of hunger and desire, his right hand, the one that wasn’t touching your boob, leaves the side of your head and pulls your shirt up to your neck, exposing your naked torso and your hard nipples. His gaze drops from your face to the hand squeezing your tit, his other hand now traces the side of your stomach, and his fingertips gently brush your skin – it tickles, and you can't help but contract your body at his touch and let soft sounds escape your lips.   

“Let me show you how much I care, sweetheart," without a warning he gets closer and takes one of your nipples to his mouth – as instinct your hands that were grasping on the bed clothing, now grab the hair in the back of his head pulling him closer – he groans, the sound is muffled.  

He nibbles your hard nipple, his tongue contours the firm tip leaving a trail of saliva all over your breast, the hand on your stomach takes hold of your other tit, and he squeezes it and holds it firmly – you have to bite back a moan. He starts sucking on your nipple like his life depended on it. The only sounds in the room were his muffled groans, your soft moans, and the wet sound his mouth was making – the sound of the friction of his mouth sucking your peak was music to your ears. But he couldn’t leave your other boob untended, so he went from one to the other, a line of saliva following from one nipple to the other.  

While he starts working on your boob, one of his hands slides under your pants, and his finger teases your wet pussy through the fabric of your soaked undies. “Let me apologize to you~” he whispers. Your breath catches and before you know it his hand slides under your panties, his fingertips start playing around with your wetness, and they slide between your folds, your labia hugs his fingers “Sweetie you’re so wet, I didn’t mean to make your cute little cunt cry with my harsh words” he muttered, his hot breath against your areola.   

You bite your lower lip as you suck up the moan you were about to let go, your fingers interwinding with his hair even more.  

His middle finger starts sliding up and down your pussy, adding more sound to already wet noises coming from his mouth and tongue on your tits. After teasing you enough, he slowly slides his finger inside you as his thumb caresses your clit in soft circles “Oh, Kento~” he chuckled at your little moan as his tongue played with your nipple, his teeth brushing against it.   

The tent in his pants was big and tight, so tight that the zipper on his pants is screaming for help – he keeps his focus on you, on the way your vagina feels around his finger and how your wet clitoris contracted under his thumb, he presses the finger harder against you, in response, you squeeze your legs at his touch and trap his hand in between your thighs. He chuckles again and pulls away from you. Your legs loosen again.   

He makes eye contact as he pulls your pants down. The sight of you like that drives him insane, a small smile forms at the corner of his lips, and he takes a deep breath as he starts to unbutton and unzip his pants – his gaze never leaves your eyes, even when he pulls his cock out. His cock is so hard that slaps his stomach. Your eyes travel to his member – God, you really want his fat dick inside of you more than anything.   

Nanami holds his big balls with one hand and strokes his thick length with the other, the precum helps his strokes become smoother “Shit-” the word escapes his lips. He lets go of his members and gets down so he can kiss your neck again.   

“Can I fuck you? Let me fuck you, sweetheart. Please let me fuck you, baby.” he pleads as he gently bites your earlobe. “Please... let me show how sorry I am.” his tongue licks your ear in and out.  

“Please... fuck me, Kento” you beg. He doesn't waste any time in positioning himself between your legs, he pulls your thighs closer to him, the way he grabbed them was aggressive and a little painful – you like that. He strokes his dick again and slaps it on your wet panties, teasing you through the fabric. In other circumstances he would’ve taken his time with teasing you like that – sliding his tip up and down your soggy underwear, grinding you before he finally gets inside of you. But, right now, he didn’t have time, so with his wet fingers he slid your panties to the side and slowly made his way in. “You’re so tight and wet, sweetie. Fuck-” he groans.   

He places his hands next to your head and starts slowly thrusting you, his balls hitting you in the process and making a sloppy noise.   

Your hands move to his back, gripping the fabric of his blue button-up shirt. Your moans start coming out louder and with more frequency. The way his cock fills you up makes you ecstatic.   

His thrusts become faster, harder. “I’m so sorry sweetie.” he gulps and buries his face on your neck again, taking in your scent. “You were right- your pretty kitty feels so good, baby” he bites your neck.   

With each thrust you cry out a moan against his shoulder, with each thrust the loose ends of his jacket brush against your belly, with each thrust he kisses your neck or bites it, with each thrust he groans near your ear and his hot breath sends shivers down your spine, with each thrust his balls slap your skin, with each thrust your pussy get tighter around his fat big cock, with each thrust his movements become sloppier, the wet sounds louder – your back arched, your body grinding against his, the fire on your clit burning, the electricity in your body growing and your eyes rolling to the back of your head.  

“Do you forgive me?” he asks, his voice a low growl against your soft skin.  

“Yes- I forgive you, Kento” you cry out, and finally, your whole body shakes underneath him, at the same time all of your four senses come out more alive than ever you also lose them. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart” he apologizes, because he’s not stopping even if you're too sensitive.   

When your orgasm is over your body is so sensitive that his touch hurts. But soon enough he fills you up with his cum “Oh- that’s it, sweetheart, take every drop of my cum” he growls loudly. His thrusts become slower until he finally stops and, still inside you he collapses on top of you. The moans suddenly stop and the only sounds are your heavy breathing.   

“I love you so much, sweetie” he mutters.  

As you start to play with his hair you mumble “I love you too”   

“God... I missed you so much – I missed this so much”   

You sigh “Me too”  

Gently he pulls away and sits up in front of you, his dick leaving your cunt.   

He looks down at your pussy and watches his cum dripping down your pussy. With his fingers he starts pulling the hot liquid back inside of you – you gasp again.   

“Kento....”  

“Shh, this is my apology gift for you. Now take it, darling.” 

This was my first time writing smut like this! So please bear with me!!! Tips are accepted!

Masterlist

[tpwk-formula1]

Kinktober Day 3 - Thigh Riding - MV1

Max Verstappen X Reader

TW - Thigh riding, blow job, deep throat, sub! reader

WC - 950+

Y/N POV

I allow my horniness to grow more and more while sitting on the couch watching Max on the Sim. I know he's not streaming right now which I use to my advantage because the next thing I know Im pulling my shorts and panties down before sitting back on the couch and playing with my wet pussy.

It has never been a secret in our relationship that I had a thing for Max's thighs. The way they kept tensing and relaxing based on how he was driving was driving me absolutely insane.

It didn't take long for my moans to grow loud enough that Max is turning in his sim to see what I was doing.

"Schat, what's gotten into you," Max asks breaking me out of the little world I was currently in.

"Please," I whine out moving my eyes from his thighs to make eye contact with him. I can see the smirk written all over his face before he gestures with a nod for me to come to him. When I get up I can feel how soaked I had become.

"What's got you like this," Max asks when I get right next to the sim. I can't answer I'm too focused on my soaked pussy which has juices starting to slide down my thighs. This has Maz's eyes flicking down to see just how drenched I was.

"Please, Maxie," I whine out when Max decided to take his hand and start softly teasing my throbbing clit.

"Gotta tell me what's got you like this," Max answered making me whine, 'cause he knows how much I hate admitting what's put me into the mood. Especially when it comes to his thighs cause for whatever reason I find it embarrassing.

I just flick my eyes down to his thighs hoping that was enough of an answer. This has Max chuckling a little before saying, "Words. I need words Schat."

"Your thighs, Maxie," I mumble out before making eye contact again and I can see just how smug that makes him.

"How?" Max asks cheekily while still teasing my clit.

"Maxie," I whine out.

"Schat, answer the question and I promise I'll give you whatever you want," Max says before sinking two fingers into my tight pussy which has me moaning out.

"They looked so good when you were on the sim," I breathe out finally which has Max pulling his fingers out and pulling me onto one of his thighs.

I didn't need any help, I was instantly grinding down on his thigh instantly leaving a wet spot on his gray sweats.

"Fuck, Maxie," I whine out once I found the perfect pace and pressure.

"Schat, you look so good. Drenching my thigh with your pussy," Max whispers out into my neck while leaving soft kisses scattered all over my collarbones.

The closer I get the worse my rhythm gets which has Max gripping my waist to help guide me.

"Can I cum, Maxie?" I whine out, feeling myself ready to fall over the edge.

"Cum for me, schat" Max tells me while speeding up his movements.

"Oh fuck," I moan out right as I fall over the edge. As I'm cumming Max continues the movements with my hips to make sure I ride my orgasm out.

As soon as I come down from my intense orgasm I instantly fall into Max's chest to catch my breath and hopefully allow the post-orgasm shakes to calm down a little.

Once I have fully relaxed into Max's chest I reach between us to fish out Max's hard cock out of his sweats. The second I get my hands around his cock Max is already started to moan out.

"Fuck, schat, feels so good," Max moans out as I start picking up my pace.

Without thinking twice I slide out of Max's lap and between his legs making sure to not hit my head on the desk or mess with any of the sim floorboard.

Once I'm comfortably on my knees I instantly take make into my mouth which makes him groan out at the contact.

"Schat," Max whines out when I start to deep-throat him. This was something we had been working on together for a while and I was happy I could finally put my new talent to good work.

When my nose hit his blond pubes I could feel Max start to shake, which signaled he was getting closer. While still actively deepthroating Max I start to massage his balls which throws him over the edge.

"Fuck, I'm cumming," Max groans out while holding my hair in his fist to keep me in place as he cums down my throat. I make sure to swallow every last drop of his cum before slowly pulling off of his cock with a loud pop that echoed throughout the apartment.

When I finally start to pull myself back into Max's lap I notice how massive of a wet spot I left behind which makes my cheeks grow red in embarrassment before hiding my face in Max's neck.

"Schat, don't hide from me," Max says while pulling my chin out from his neck before pulling me in for some soft kisses.

"Maxie, that's so embarrassing," I groan out still red in the face from how soaked I left Max's thigh.

"Nothing embarrassing, Schat! It's hot to see how good something as simple as my thigh gets you so turned on," Max tells me while pulling me down for a few more kisses.

"Let's go shower. I want you to come on my cock now," Max says while pulling us both out of the sim and taking us to the master bathroom.

[theladybrownstarot]

Pick-A-Card: What kind of healing are you being called up for ?

✧ Here's the masterlist for more !

✧ Make sure like/follow/reblogg for pacs like these !

✧ Pile 1 .

Namaste pile 1 , let's begin with your reading :

˖⁺‧₊˚ Okay before I begin with your reading I heard word "sky" - might be related to freedom in some way . It could be possible that you or someonelse restricted your freedom to move ahead in life or might be feeling so stuck currently but you don't need to because you need to remember that control is in your hand only if your realise. So , here you are being called up for own power healing . For some of you I see healing from an emotional loss of someone or something close to you. For some of you it is about some sort of disappointment that you are holding on now even . You might be among those who don't show their emotions or express similarly you hide yourself from people but you don't need to ,okay ? The healing you need to do is not dependent or needs someone else rather you or we can say your inner wisdom needs to be used to enlighten yourself also you are being told not to become hopeless because you lost something precious because in our life we are blessed to have many things that needs our attention and care as they are precious too so see high commando !

✧ Pile 2.

Namaste pile 2 , let's begin with your reading :

˖⁺‧₊˚ Hey people are you Into monster movies or horror movies even sci- fic ? I felt so while I was doing your reading. Don't consume a lot of negative content because it's not for our mental health okay ? At same time don't be grumpy most of the time just take a chill pill. Now If we talk about what kind of healing you need to do is regarding your work or skill development . I sense that you might not be using your potential properly in things or it could be that you are utilising your skills in the right manner or right things because of which you are lacking behind and that's what keeping your frustrated and stuck . So , you are being called up to settle down somewhere to calm your mind and introspect for same . This healing will actually help you rise up among your peers or enviroment you are in also that you got a great motive behind and you are set to achieve something high so if you saw this reading this is a call to halt those who halt you !

✧ Pile 3

Namaste pile 3 , let's begin with your reading :

˖⁺‧₊˚ Okay, I sense that you took some decision but now it's not going as what you thought or believed it to be like rather opposite of it because of which you are mentally suffering and that's what you need to heal . I'm sensing that you are unnecessarily speeding up things or going very harshly and that's what you need to heal why because this thing of going fast and harshly will leave more painful wounds then marks on you and I don't want to see that for sure ! I'm sensing that you need to travel and go outside rather than Staying at one place because this promote your healing and bring your some good luck and wait I heard word "golden" too soo travel is gonna be a gem for you . You are being called up to ground your energies and heal them up so also to free yourself from all bandages you are in . That's it pile 3 . Don't hurry be slow for some time! Nothing is going to go out of hand .

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

©️ @theladybrownstarot 2023 all rights reserved. Any stealing or copying of work will be a punishable offence.

[lunaekalenda]

"i have to go to work" you whisper, trying to leave your bed once more, but satoru only grips your hip tighter, pulling your body towards his bare chest. he hums in approval when your body is pressed against his.

"don't go." he murmurs, half asleep half awake. you draw circles on his arm, slowly, sweetly. his breath collides with your neck, and his chest rises with every calm breath he takes. he kisses your nape. "stay here, yeah?"

you turn around between his arms to face him. his handsome features are relaxed, as his blue eyes are closed. his white hair falls on his forehead without order, in a complete mess, giving him the look you like so much. your hand finds its natural way to his cheek, and your thumb quickly finds his lips, caressing gently. "you also have to go to work, satoru."

his face becomes a pout when he hears your words, and the hand resting on your hip moves to your ass, pressing you even more against him, making you move and put one of your legs on top of his hips. he groans.

"i'm sure the kids will be happy i'm not going today. as much as yours will be." he whispers, softly, getting closer to kiss your neck, your jaw. "they need to rest, don't they?" his hand caresses your lower back, up and down, softly. satoru's way of convincing you is slowly working. "it's been so long since we spent a day together, just for ourselves." he murmurs, his sleepy voice making you search more comfort between his arms, wanting to hear him more. "we can sleep a bit more, hugged, like this. then, i would wake up you with kisses, a lot of them, before bringing you the breakfast i would have prepared for you." you smile, even though you're sure you'll be the first to wake up. "then we can cook together, eat together, and spend the afternoon doing anything you'd like, but by my side." his fingers lazily lift your t-shirt, only to press his big, hot palm against your skin, directly. "we can watch that movie you wanted to see, or play that game we bought and we weren't able to try."

you kiss his chest, purely, before pecking his lips. "love, it surely sounds nice, but we have to work." satoru wrinkles his lips. he sighs.

"you're not gonna let your rich boyfriend spoil you by calling once sick?" even when that's not true - you just want to spend the day by his side. - the excuse tempts you. satoru passes you his phone. "c'mon, love. you also need to sleep. resting is also important. you've been stressed"

well, he's right. he knows you better than you know yourself, and it's true that you have been having problems sleeping. you sigh while pressing the number of your boss, under the attentive gaze of satoru, whose blue eyes shine under the early morning sunrays.

"good morning, sir. i don't think i'll be able to work today." your conversation flows as background noise for your boyfriend, who hides a triumphant smile on your neck.

[spdrvyn]

MIGUEL O’HARA — and places he’d kiss you in

rewatched atsv and was hit with a very strong wave of yearning for this man that (unfortunately) doesn’t exist so now we’re here! tagging @greensagephase too as she was the one who inspired me to write this, please enjoy!! (^_^) ♡

☆ his lab, at work

like i’ve mentioned a thousand times before in my other fics and posts, miguel isn’t the biggest fan of pda. he prefers intimacy when it’s just the two of you, without the crumbling pressure of his snoopy coworkers.

that is mostly why his laboratory is one of the most secure places in headquarters. with a platform that might as well be touching the ceiling, it grants utmost privacy to him and you. he enjoys it when you visit him, whether it’s to bring food or company, the fact you go out of your busy day to come see him makes his heart swell.

he loves to shower you in kisses in those fleeting moments you’re both together, before the day ends. he presses a kiss to your hairline, and takes a whiff of your shampoo. before he moves down to your forehead, your nose, then your lips. he’ll tell you about the day he’s had, you will tell him about yours in return, and he’ll wonder how he got so lucky.

☆ the park, early mornings

i’d like to think that miguel is a morning person. when he can, he goes on brisk walks in a park nearby to wind down a little before he starts a very hectic day.

you, on more than one occasion, have chosen to join him, which miguel feels guilty for most of the time. mainly because he thinks you need sleep, as adorable as you look when you’re tired. he notices how sluggish you can be when you join him, which is why neither of you give that big of an effort to make conversation. not like it makes the moment any less meaningful.

there is a way that the peeping sun reflects on you so beautifully. even with tired eyes, unkempt hair, and an “uncoordinated” outfit (according to you. but he’d be attracted to you even if you wore a potato sack), every inch of you from head to toe looks like it came straight out of a renaissance painting.

he will pull you behind a tree, pepper kisses to your cheeks, before kissing you senseless on the lips. he holds your face in his warm palms like a prized jewel, and each kiss feels slower than the next. his breath is hot against your mouth as he pauses before he leans in for one after the other.

☆ at a restaurant, dinner time

on date nights, it really depends on how both of you are feeling on where the location is. maybe, it feels nice to doll up and look nice, but if it’s too much effort, somewhere casual and near-by is sufficient enough for you and him.

either way, those nights are the ones where miguel’s romance levels are reaching through the roof. he simply can’t stop and won’t stop looking at you, and how stunning you are. he doesn’t know how you always manage to keep him relaxed, because even he knows about how high-strung he can get, but he always gets so eerily calm when you’re around.

while you’re in the restaurant, he will subtly hold your hand under the table. on the rare occasion, he’ll break his ‘little to no PDA’ rule, he will press kisses along the inside of your hand to your knuckles. he does try to be discreet, but the way you get so flustered by his boldness eggs him on.

☆ bonus: at home

when miguel comes back home, a lot of the time he lets his actions speak for how he feels.

normally, if you’re doing something when he returns, he embraces you from behind, lets out a huge sigh of relief, and clings to your back like a koala until you are both seated. if you’re on the bed or couch, reading a book or watching something on the tv, he collapses on top of you and puffs all the air out from your chest.

he will kiss you on your neck, or when he’s really tired, just leave his lips there. he’ll lay on your chest and kiss you there also, while leaving a trail down to your stomach.

i'm still so not over him. sorry to my cousin's friends who apparently read some of my stuff, i am not normal about this old man

[synthetickitsune]

Mingyu (SVT) | Late night walk comfort | 0.7k | gn!reader

He finds you lying down on your bed, windows wide open and the cool night air flowing in.

“If it was safe, if I didn’t have to go to work tomorrow, I’d be out there. Walking, wandering,” you explain. Your voice sounds calm but you’re anything but. Call it his sixth sense, but he knows.

“I can help with the first one,” Mingyu gives you a soft smile, “And for the second… I could call in for you? Be your witness that you’re not feeling well? That wouldn’t work right…” 

You smile and it breaks his heart. The moisture collecting in the corner of your eyes carves deeper lines into the cracks.

“It’s okay,” you close your eyes, “I’m just sad.”

He can see that, but he’s helpless as to how he can help. He goes over the day - was there something to cause this? He goes over the whole week in his head, but he can’t come up with anything that could trigger this state. Not like it’s that simple. He knows sometimes it just happens. But he wishes it wouldn’t. He wishes that there always was something concrete, something that he could protect you against.

He takes a seat next to you, slowly stroking the top of your head.

“We can go for a short walk if you’d like,” he offers, still hopeful despite everything. He knows it’s not worth it - it’s late, before you put on clothes, shoes, then change and shower again, you’ll just spend more time with all that than the actual walk.

“It’s fine. It’s late anyway and going home too soon would just make me feel worse and more hopeless,” you sigh. While he’s not completely convinced, he lets it go. It’s better to trust you on this anyway.

He lays down, watching your face for reaction as he pulls you closer and wraps his body around yours. He feels reassured when you turn to lay on your side and snuggle closer to him.

“I’ll be fine,” you mumble into his chest, “I just need to rest. I need a vacation.”

He perks up. Mingyu knows it’s gonna take a lot of effort and planning to make it work but a nice long vacation, just the two of you, sounds like something he wouldn’t mind toiling endlessly for. 

“You’re working too hard,” he says while rubbing your back, “I’m surprised you’re not talking about work while you sleep.”

“You wouldn’t know anyway, you sleep like a log,” you grumble. He can’t refute that, so he just chuckles.

“I promise I’ll take you somewhere nice,” his voice softens, “Somewhere you won’t need to worry about anything at all.”

“I’ll have to worry about you,” you tilt your head up with a tired smile, “That you’ll wander off and get lost, beating girls off with a stick and stuff.”

He pouts, however happy he is to see you smile, he pouts deeply and whines. He knows you’ll do just what you do - pull him in for a kiss. He breaks into a wide smile when your lips meet his. It doesn’t last long before you cuddle up to him again but it’s enough.

“We should sleep,” you state. You always say that around this time. Only usually it’s laughing because you’re too in love with him to just cut your time with him short, or sulking because you want to watch one more episode. Not dejected like you’re giving up. And Mingyu still has no idea how to help.

“Sometimes sleep helps,” he whispers, more to himself than to you. Sometimes there’s nothing else to do but sleep and hope for the best.

He murmurs a goodnight into your hair and gets equally soft a response from you. He’s not entirely happy with the day ending like this. And it’s not like either of you will fall asleep any time soon.

He uses that time to think - how can he help? How can he lift even a little bit of the burden off your shoulders?

He falls asleep troubled by his helplessness and he doesn’t realize that he holds you too tight in his sleep. Or that you’re grateful; that it’s the only reason you fall asleep at all.

[hamiltonaf]

Veiled Emotions | Lando Norris

Pairing: Lando Norris x BFF!Female Reader

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: None

A/N: Hello my loves. I’m back from my hiatus ! Had this one in my drafts for so long and finally got out of writers block to finish it. Let me know your thoughts if you’d like a part 2 ? Enjoy ! X

(Y/F/N) - Your Friend’s Name

(Y/N/N) - Your Nickname

“Oh my days” I said aloud. “No fricking way” I slapped a hand over my mouth in shock as I stared at my Instagram notifications. “Bestie what happened ?” (Y/F/N) asked as she rushed over to my side. “You are not going to believe who just followed me” I said as I looked at her. “Tell me already !” (Y/F/N) yelled. “The footballer, João Félix !” I squealed. “Shut up ! Give me that” she grabbed my phone from my hand to take a closer look. “What the- wait a second..isn’t he-“ “Yepp” I nodded as I pressed my lips together. “This is major !” She shouted.

“But how crazy that he followed me the same time these rumours started with Lando ?” I said as I snatched my phone back. “This sounds like sweet revenge to me” (Y/F/N) said as she rubbed her hands together. “I wouldn’t say revenge, I mean they’re just rumours” I shrugged. “Babe sometimes you’re blind and I feel bad for you” she said as she rubbed my back. “What do you mean I’m blind ?” I furrowed my brows.

“Don’t you see how that dumb ass doesn’t care about you when she’s around ? He doesn’t call you or text you, but if you tried calling or texting him he’s always so called ‘busy’ ! He doesn’t make time for you anymore considering you guys have known each other for 2 years now. The only time he knows you is when she’s not around which is so not on. You don’t deserve that treatment” she lectured.

“I get where you’re coming from and gosh.. I wish it was so easy to stop thinking about him, but you already know how I feel. It’s a one sided love story” I sighed. “Get over him ! I’ve been telling you this for so long, he doesn’t deserve you. If he wants to prioritise her over you, yet he knows you for god knows how long, that speaks for itself” she said. “Yeah it’s easy to say get over him, not so easy when I still get tagged on pictures and see him all over my timeline” I fussed. “Block him” she simply said. “Are you mad ? These gossip accounts and fans will notice and then people won’t stop talking about it. I can forsee what’s going to happen already, leave it to me” I reassured her. “Ugh fine, but please stop letting him have control over you” she warned. “Control over me ? Ain’t no way, I can play the same game ” I grinned to myself. I followed Joāo.

To think that my follower count is such that youoão won’t notice one extra follower, but I guessed wrong because these F1 gossip accounts don’t play. It’s only been an hour, we haven’t even DMed each other, just a follow back and F1 gossip girl had posted.

***BREAKING NEWS***

Spotted: Lando getting cozy with Magui at the trendiest spots in town. But hold your gasps, because there’s a juicy twist —João Felix and (Y/N) are now following each other. Is this just a casual follow, or a strategic move in a high-stakes game of love and rivalry ? As the drama unfolds, one thing’s for sure: the Upper East Side’s favorite social circle is about to get even more complicated. Stay tuned, darling—this is just the beginning of the scandal.

XOXO, Gossip Girl

After reading the post I felt as if I was apart of the Gossip Girl series, a childhood dream come true. Jokes aside… I showed (Y/F/N) the post and we had a good laugh for a few minutes. “At this point you NEED to date Joāo, give the fans what they want !” she said as she shook me. “Dating for drama is too much work and I don’t do fake romance” I rolled my eyes. “Girl… who said it has to be fake ? What if y’all actually fall in love oh my god !” She squealed. “Not when that idiot lives in my head rent free” I said as I grabbed the pillow from beside me and screamed into it in frustration. “Babe you need to calm down-“ and just then my Twitch notification went off. It could only go off for two people - Lando or Max.

We shared a look simultaneously, (Y/F/N) was indirectly giving me permission to open the stream. Max is in frame on the golf cart and he starts off by greeting everyone, as well as giving a brief run down of what they’re doing. I failed to remember that my username is visible until I read the comments which everyone is tagging me and saying hi or bringing up Joāo…oh dear. “I see we have our bestie watching the stream. Hey (Y/N/N) !” Max waved. I typed back ‘Heyy Max !’.

The comments were only about Joāo Felix within a few seconds. Max starts reading one of the comments, “(Y/N) wins in life with Max and Lando as her best friends and now a footballer, Joāo, is her potential boyfriend ! Unreal.” I was at a loss for words. (Y/F/N) and I looked at each other and burst out laughing at the comment, as much as I love the fans they have gone crazy. “Say what now ?” Lando said as he then came into frame and sat beside Max on the golf cart. “Shit” I muttered. “(Y/N/N) is on the stream” Max glanced at him. “Hey bestie ! Missing you” Lando said with a smile. “I hate him” I said to myself. “Me too” (Y/F/N) agreed.

‘Enjoy Portugal !’ I typed in the comments. “Bro did you know (Y/N) and Joāo are dating” Max said as he watched Lando jump off the golf cart. “You’re joking” Lando scoffed. Max cleared his throat and coughed before Lando could comment any further. “This is like watching Gossip Girl in the flesh” (Y/F/N) said. “Why does he look good” I whined. “I’ve had enough of you acting like this, please leave the stream and watch something else like TikTok or something” (Y/F/N) said as she snatched my phone to close Twitch and open TikTok instead.

I swear this day is like a fever dream. “Are you taking the piss” (Y/F/N) said as she was viewing a TikTok. “What ? Show me too” I said as I grabbed my phone from her hand. It’s a TikTok of Max’ girlfriend and Joāo’s ex. That means the rumours must be true seeing how close they are in the video.

“So much for thinking TikTok would be a good distraction” (Y/F/N) said as she closed TikTok. “This day couldn’t be more of a joke” I sighed. “You know what I’ve had enough ! Let’s get ready, we’re going out” I practically got dragged to my room. “Going where exactly ?” I asked as I sat at the edge of the bed. “Anywhere ! As long as you don’t look at your phone today” (Y/F/N) said as she rummaged through her bag for an outfit. “But I’m so not in the mood” I said as I fell back on the bed. Just then my notifications went off. A text from Lando. Strange.

(Y/F/N) paused with searching for a dress and scurried to lay beside me.

Little did Lando know was that (Y/F/N) had taken my phone away that’s why I didn’t answer his calls and bonus of it all, she lied by answering his question. “I guess fake love it is then” I furrowed my brows. “Why chase when you’re the catch, right ?” She said as she stood up to face me. “I mean I guess so” I shrugged. “You have to be confident and know that you’re worth more than chasing after this boy. He needs to chase after you” she said as she held me at my shoulders and shook me.

“Are you going to make this boy fall for you or what ?” She asked. I was hesitant to answer, “Bestie… I thought you didn’t like him” I pressed my lips together. “Only because he’s being an idiot you and I hate seeing you like this. But if it means playing cupid and bringing back my old bestie - more importantly that you’re happy then I’ll support it” she smiled softly. “Awww.. stop ! Now enough pep talk, we need to get dressed” I clapped my hands and jumped off the bed in a hurry.

yourusername added to story

(Y/F/N) suggested to post on my story as if I’m out with João and I think I nailed it considering it got a reaction out of Lando. He reacted with ‘😍’ and added, ‘You actually went on a date with him 😂’. (Y/F/N) said nothing would tick him off more than leaving him on read and that’s what I did.

After a fun night of dinner and drinks with our other girl friends, we made it back home safely and all I just wanted to do was go to sleep. I kicked off my heels and walked over to the kitchen to fill up a vase with water for the bouquet - Lando’s name lit up across my lock screen to video call. I rolled my eyes, “Ugh to answer or not to answer ?”. “Girl answer ! I wanna hear this” (Y/F/N) said as she sat beside me, away from my camera view but enough for her to see what’s happening. “Hey you, what a surprise” I greeted. “Are you back home ?” He asked. “Yeah I actually just got back” I said as I leaned against the counter.

“At 12am ?” He furrowed his brows. “I guess you can say we lost track of time” I grinned. (Y/F/N) was trying her best not to laugh. “Where did he take you ?” He asked curiously. I then grabbed the bouquet and tried to place it nicely as a whole into the vase. “Is this why you called ? To get information ?” I raised a brow. “No ! I just miss you that’s all” he sighed. “You seem perfectly fine without me, in fact you look like you’re having a lot of fun.. I don’t see how me being there would make a difference” I shrugged.

“Okay now what’s with the sarcasm ? You’re acting as if I didn’t ask you to come with !” He argued. “Oh I’m sorry Lando, but I would hate to be the third wheel for both you and Max.” “Third wheel for me ? Why is that ?” He looked confused. “Oh my god how slow are you” I rolled my eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes now, tell me why !” He broke into a smile as he started to laugh. The audacity. “Are you trying to make me look like a mug ?” I sniggered. “No no, it’s just cute to see you get upset” he smiled. “Wow okay. Anyways I’m gonna go” I grew annoyed very quickly, I just want this call to end. “Wait wait. I’m sorry okay, I’ll stop talking” he pouted. Nope, not gonna work. “No..it’s getting late anyways. I’m gonna go. Night” I huffed. “But (Y/N/N)-“ “Lando I’m tired please.” “Alright sorry..good night..love ya” he sighed. “Bye” I said softly and ended the call.

“Girlll can y’all just admit y’all love each other at this point. I felt like I was watching a couple fight. Geez” (Y/F/N) shook her head. “Absolutely not. I’m annoyed because I feel like he called for some entertainment for his girlfriend. I’m sure she’s dying to know what her ex and I were up to, and also how she can get payback for whatever reason” I said as we walked back to the room. “Babe I think you’re overthinking it. From what I saw he genuinely looked lonely and just wanted to talk to you because he misses you” she said. “Erm I’m sorry but what happened to my best friend who was against him ?” I raised a brow. “I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt” she smiled proudly.

“Love how everyone is ganging up against me like I’m the villain. Love to see it ! Not.” I faked a smile. “Sleep over it and talk to him tomorrow” she suggested. “Hmm we’ll see” I said lowly.

[vitaminkyeom]

telephone || k.mg

“NOW IT'S TIME FOR ME TO RETURN THE FAVOUR”

PAIRING || Mingyu x Female Reader

GENRES || Horror, 911 Operator!Mingyu, Romance

SUMMARY ||  Working the night shift as a 911 operator was hard as it is and the last thing Mingyu needed was those calls from his ex-girlfriend. Whom he had not seen in years. For obvious reasons of her being dead.

Or, in which, Mingyu kept getting calls from his ex girlfriend claiming that she had murdered him.

SERIES MASTERLIST || till death do us part

WARNINGS || inaccurate 911 stuff, description of murdered body, horror, mention of murder and ghost

WORD COUNT || 3k

A/N || If you recognise this story, no you don't. but anyways this was one of my most favourite works even though i'm not that great at writing horror so i'm really glad i'm starting off with this story for the series. i've tried my best to make it as scary as i could (sorry but im a pussy) so yeah any feedback would be really helpful!

TAGLIST || @monamipencil @nonuify @black-swan-blog27 @hipsdofangirl @wonuilu @kibs-and-bits @unlikelysublimekryptonite @gyuguys @hanicore @alyssng @hyneyedfiz @weebotakuboy @aaniag @thepoopdokyeomtouched @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @sea-moon-star @hrts4hanniehae @athanasiasakura @doubleshoticedshakenespresso @asasilentreader @isabellah29 @mrswonwooo @nonononranghaee @hoichi02 @cheolsboo @dinossaurz @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @tinkerbell460 @bluewbwerry @hoeforcheol @kawennote09 @iamawkwardandshy @winterbeartaehyungbestboy ​ @jjeongddol @k-drama-adict @mnstxmnbb @stervahaha @escoupseu @wonvsmile @mansaaay [if you want to be added to my taglist please fill in this form!]

“911, please state your emergency.”

Static. He waited for a minute more but there still wasn’t any sound coming from the other side.

Mingyu sighed exasperatedly, sure that this was another prank call. Halloween night was looming close which also meant teenagers found it funny to call the operators up at night to scare them.

But he was used to this. Which was funny because Mingyu was the biggest scaredy cat in his group and could not even watch Scooby Doo without whimpering at least once. But he took his responsibilities very seriously and there was no way he was going to let his fear come in the middle of his work.

He was about to hang up the call when he heard a sound. Immediately he jerked back the phone to his ear and strained them to hear anything, but all he could hear was a buzzing sound.

“Hello? How can I help-”

“Help.”

He inhaled sharply, the woman’s raspy voice very clear in the empty office. Mingyu was the only one serving night shift in his floor currently, and the only thing accompanying him was the soft beeping on the seven screens in front of him and the buzzing of the fluorescent tube lights above him.

“Ma'am, are you in a position to tell me what is happening?”

His fingers flew across the keyboard, noting down the number first and then quickly texting the other department to find out the location of the call.

“Pl-please help. Make him stop.” The woman whispered,  her ragged breath harsh against his ears.

“Make whom stop? Can you tell me who is near to you, ma’am?”

Mingyu felt an unnatural calmness settle into his bones, one that always came whenever he forced himself to calm down in such situations.

A message dinged on one of his screens indicating that they had traced the nearest cell tower of the cell phone.

“Officer Lee.” He said, already on the other line, talking to the nearest official he could see. “We have a 911 emergency of abuse.”

“Roger that. Address?”

“It's…” Mingyu’s voice trailed off on seeing the address. 

No way- How was that possible? There had to be some mistake right?

Because the address was of his house.

He cleared his throat, sure that the address was wrong since they tracked the nearest cell tower, and that could be kilometres away from the destination.

“Uh, the address shows my house. I… I think you need to be on the lookout for areas near my house.”

There was a pause, as though Seokmin seemed to be trying to process this information. Seokmin had been good friends with him, so Mingyu knew that even he found it odd, especially when his neighbourhood was a safe and nice one.

“On my way.”

“Ma’am,” Mingyu said, back to line one, “if you could tell me your name or your address, or even what is happening to you, I could help you out better.”

His eyes were trained to look at all the monitors at once, one monitoring the small dot that represented Seokmin heading towards the destination, another with a blank form about the caller and another one where he was rapidly typing what he was hearing, ready to call in other emergencies in case he heard something important.

“Help! Why don’t you help me? Please help!”

“Ma’am help is on the way, please calm down-”

He was interrupted by a loud pop as all the lights went out, the only source of light now being the soft glow of his computer screens. The room was now lit up eerily and he felt the hair on the nape of his neck rise up. Mingyu wasn’t very scared of the dark ever, but the growing sounds of gurgling and growling in the telephone line was causing shivers to travel down his spine.

“Mingyu…” The woman rasped, this time sounding like she had gargled razors, her screeching voice turning his blood to ice.

How did she know his name?

Goosebumps rose all over his skin as his breathing came out in sudden pants, feeling an icy invisible hand wrap around his neck. He sucked in a breath harshly and with a jolt, he realised how lonely he was, not a single soul on his floor whilst he was plunged in darkness.

Then the call cut off abruptly, and at the same time, the power surged back to life. 

Yet, the cold feeling hadn’t left Mingyu as though he could still hear the woman gargling in his ear.

“Mingyu?”

He jerked as the second line suddenly came to life, Seokmin’s voice clear through the landline.

“H-Hey. Did you find anything?” He tried his level best not to sound shaken, but it was hard because the more he tried to ignore wherever had just happened, the more the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach grew.

“Nothing. We will be needing to get a more specific address. Your entire apartment seems safe to me. Is she still on the line?”

Mingyu exhaled harshly, rubbing his chest with his hand to calm down his heart that was beating too fast. He then realised how dry his throat had become, and quickly took a sip of water before continuing.

“No. She cut the call. I- uh, I don’t think she needs help anymore. She sounded alright at the end.” He said, wincing having to lie. He still couldn’t shake off the feeling of horror he had felt when he saw his own address flash on to the screen.

“Are you sure? Shouldn’t we follow the protocol still-”

“She told me so herself.” Mingyu snapped, and Seokmin shut up, not saying anything more.

He sighed, rubbing his template, trying to forget what he had just heard. But it was like the noise had been ingrained into his brain. He could hear it even now, even though there were many other small sounds beside him.

But being a 911 operator, there was bound to be such horrors, right? He had heard some similar stories of ghost calls from his superiors. Maybe this was one of them?

“Well then…I suppose that’s it huh?” Seokmin cut the silence, causing Mingyu to flinch as he jumped out of his thoughts. “Are you calling it a night?”

Mingyu felt his heart leap to his throat.

Calling it a night? On any other day, he would have loved to crash on to his bed but all of a sudden going back to his house, the place where this lady claimed to be at, seemed like a distant nightmare, something which was waiting for him to tear him apart.

“Uh, n-no. I’ll continue my shift I think. Besides, Seungcheol won’t wake up if I call him now.”

“Hey, are you okay?” Seokmin asked, concern lacing his voice. “You sound…scared.”

“I’m fine.” Mingyu swallowed thickly, feeling a patch of sweat that had formed on his forehead as he tried rubbing his temples.

“We’ve dealt with these before, right?” Seokmin asked again, trying to sound bolder for his sake.

“Y-yeah. Yeah. We have. I’ll… hang up now.”

As soon as the phone went down, Mingyu buried his face in his hands, trying to forget the horrible sounds he had heard on the phone.

But the more he tried to forget them, the more he was convinced that they were no more voices in his head, but were coming from the room. It was almost like he could hear the noise coming from behind the door.

I’m probably just hearing things.

He got up and decided to get some fresh air. He walked to the door and paused, the sound still ringing in his ears. Clutching the door knob, he took in a deep breath and with his eyes screwed shut he turned it open, bracing himself for whatever lay ahead of his.

Silence greeted him as he slowly peeled his eyes open, looking around tentatively for anything that might jump on him out of the dark. 

Ding!

The sound of the elevator’s beep caused his heart to nearly stop, the sudden sound cutting through silent night that was almost engulfing him. He felt his entire body freeze as all he could do was watch the numbers on the screen of the lift increase until it reached his floor, limbs paralysed with fear. 

With another soft ding! the lift door began sliding open, and Mingyu found himself almost begging that he shouldn’t be greeted by someone, or something, once the lift door opened.

The dim blue light of the lift spilt out as Mingyu watched in terror, but to his relief only emptiness greeted him back. He looked at his own reflection in the mirror of the elevator. 

Mingyu looked deathly pale, his eyes tired and haggard like he had just seen a ghost. His cheeks were hollow and he felt his stomach lurch when his reflection wobbled, indicating that that the lift was about to close.

And then the lift shut close, leaving him alone with a pin drop silence that almost felt suffocating.

Weren’t there others who had night duty? Because there was no way he was all alone in the building, right?

The thought was enough to cause his stomach to lurch, and he swallowed thickly wondering if he should call someone to take his place.

But his house! Mingyu could feel goosebumps rising on his skin the second he thought of his house.

What if she- that thing was still lurking around his house? Or worse, was actually in his house.

The ringing of the telephone cut through the silence like a blade, causing him to jump a mile. His reflexes kicked in though, and clutching his painfully beating heart, Mingyu ran towards his computers to pick the emergency phone call.

“911. Please state your emergency-”

“Help.”

Mingyu froze, the familiar voice draining out all the blood from his cheeks again.

No way.

He wanted to cut the call, wanted to block out whatever this woman was about to beg for because her voice was like icy daggers to his skin, rekindling his fear like never before. Mingyu had never felt so terrified in his life before. 

“Please help… Mingyu.”

It was like her whispering his name had opened Pandora's box, and lots of emotions hit him at once. He couldn’t even question how she knew his name because that wasn’t what terrified him the most.

But it was the familiarity of the voice of the woman. A voice he used to hear almost every day before it was snuffed out of his life suddenly.

“Y/N.” He whispered, fear clutching his stomach as he felt his heart hammer in his chest.

In the empty office he could only hear his own ragged breathing and the slight buzzing sound coming from the phone.

But how was this possible?

Because you had died six months ago.

Or rather, you had been killed in his apartment. Murdered in cold blood even though it didn’t make sense because you were the sweetest and most caring person he had met in the world. 

At first, he had been charged with murder. Those two months of investigation had nearly driven him mad. It was hard as it is dealing with your death but constant poking of the police made it even worse.

Finally he was set free due to the lack of evidence. 

Even thinking about you made his head throb. 

“Help please.” You rasped again. “Help me-”

“Where are you?” He whispered urgently, not sure why he was even asking questions. Because this had to be some sort of sick joke, right? Or maybe- maybe he was hallucinating after all. Hallucinating that you had come back to life to get some sort of closure.

“In our apartment! Why aren’t you helping?” You sobbed on the other end of the line.

He felt his head spin. Whom was he even talking to? With each word your voice turned more and more raspy and he could feel the familiar fear returning.

“If you don’t help me he’ll-”

Mingyu heard you gasp, followed by a whimpering as he heard someone slap you.

“Y-Y/N?” He asked, though he truly didn’t want to know what had happened to you. Was the person you kept mentioning your real killer? Then… was this your ghost he was talking to?

“Stay away.” A male voice spoke into the telephone suddenly, causing him to nearly fall off his seat. The hair on his arms and necks stood up at the familiarity of the voice.

“Stay away." He repeated.

He could hear his own voice on the other side of the telephone line asking him to stay away and Mingyu felt his head spin at the thought.

The telephone nearly slipped from his sweaty hand as he tried taking in a deep breath to calm himself down.

"And- and who’s this-”

“Just stay away from us.” He heard his own voice command him, before the line disconnected finally.

“Who was that?”

Mingyu jumped from his seat, hands flying to his mouth to prevent himself from screaming, until his eyes landed on Seokmin.

“You- you scared me!” He hissed, rubbing his sweaty forehead while trying to calm his shaking body down. What had just happened?

No way he had been talking to himself, right? How was that even possible?

Seokmin raised an eyebrow, walking towards him and sitting down on a chair opposite to him?

“Did I scare you? Or that call did?”

Mingyu looked away.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to check on you.”

“I’m fine.” He snapped, wiping his sweaty face with a tissue. The last thing he needed was Seokmin asking too many questions before he started questioning his own sanity.

“You’re not. You asked the caller whether she was Y/N.”

Mingyu shivered involuntarily at the memory, giving away his fear.

“It sounded like her.” He lied, not wanting to remember what had just happened. Maybe if he was nonchalant about it Seokmin would leave him alone.

“Are you sure? That call before was unusual, coming from your house.” Seokmin said, still concerned. “It's okay to be shaken up by this, you know.”

He exhaled out, trying to calm down his nerves as much as he could.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry. Pretty sure it was a prank. I mean,” He forced out a laugh, which sounded odd against the silence surrounding the two of them, “How can it even be Y/N? That makes no sense. I probably miss her a lot. That’s why I can hear her everywhere.”

“You should go home.” Seokmin cut him, patting him on the shoulder. “I think you need to rest a bit if you’re that stressed out. Sometimes, stress causes us to see and hear things that are not real. ”

Mingyu opened his mouth to protest, feeling dread fill the pit of his stomach at the thought of going home, but with the way Seokmin was staring he knew he didn’t have an option. Or else he would need to explain how he heard his own voice speak to him and ask him to stay away.

Stay away.

Was that a warning, then? Was it a big mistake going back to his house?

But with the way Seokmin was staring at him, Mingyu had no other option but to get up slowly and pack up his things. His hands wobbled, causing him to nearly break his favourite mug, but he managed to force a smile and walk to the elevator, knees threatening to give out any second. 

Once inside the elevator, Mingyu chose to stare at his reflection’s nose, unable to meet its eyes. Something told him that seeing his reflection eye to eye would not be a good idea.

Please hurry up. Please open the door fast-

His heart jumped again as his phone rang suddenly, cutting the heavy cold silence which was accompanied by the occasional soft dings.

"Hello?” He whispered, wondering who was calling so late at night. It couldn’t have been Seokmin since he had his number saved, right?

“Why did you kill me?”

Mingyu froze, unable to breathe anymore. How did you-

“Y/N? How did you- Kill you- What are you talking about?” He panted, stumbling back to support his wobbly legs with the help of the wall of the lift.

All of a sudden the air felt cooler, and his clammy hands seemed to be unable to grip the hand bar of the lift. His eyes darted to the equally petrified reflection and a yelp escaped him, phone dropping to the ground.

Because standing right beside his reflection was you. You, looking just like how you had the day you were murdered. Except there was blood all over your dress and multiple stab marks on your chest and stomach.

You smiled at him sweetly. 

“Don’t you know? You killed me. Well, not exactly you. It was Mingyu. But he is you, you are him, right?”

His legs finally gave away as he pushed his back into the walls of the elevator, terror filling every single of his senses.

Helphelpelphelp-

He heard the lift ding as it reached the ground floor. Crawling to the buttons of the lift, he frantically pressed the open button, eyes not leaving your face as you grinned at him, baring your bloody and broken teeth.

Finally the door opened and Mingyu darted to crawl out but froze almost immediately, feeling his heart stop for real this time.

“No.” He sobbed, as he watched the real you walk towards him. Edging back, he felt his heart hammer painfully hard in his chest, every bit of rational thoughts leaving him as you stepped into the elevator.

You leaned towards him much to his terror, and Mingyu screwed his eyes shut as he finally accepted his fate. His breathing eased a bit but he could still feel how tense his entire body was, adrenaline rushing coursing throughout his body.

I don’t want to go.

“Now it’s time for me to return the favour.”

A/N: Please do tell me what you think about this story!! I worked really hard on it and I would love to know everyone’s thoughts on it~ Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

© 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐎𝐌 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

[lilacxquartz]

part 3 of 19 of kinktober: power imbalance

levi ackerman x reader

plot: after one too many dress code violations, captain levi has simply had enough — themes: authority figure, smut, abuse of power, noncon/dubcon, f!reader — w.c: ~1.5k

kinktober masterlist • main masterlist • ao3

Standing outside of the captain’s office, you nervously leaned against the wall with your eyes locked on the door. You were in trouble again; very likely for violating the uniform code yet again.

When he finally let you in at long last with an eerily calm “you may enter” heard from within, you nervously stepped inside. His sharp steel eyes cut right through you, narrowing at the sight of your loosely fitted harness.

“Unacceptable,” Levi scoffed, giving you a quick glance over, “this is the third time this week.”

You stammered in retaliation, clearly embarrassed, “I-I’m so sorry captain, I’ll fix that right away—“

“—no need,” the captain replied, cutting you off, “clearly all of these reminders aren’t working for you. Maybe a… different sort of punishment… is needed?”

“Come again?” you blinked in slight confusion, unable to get a good read on him. It was admittedly difficult due to his stoic and closed off demeanour.

Taking a few steps forward and pinching at the cuff of your regiment jacket, Levi spoke up in a cold tone while trailing his hand towards the centre, “Firstly, you might as well not even wear the uniform,” he murmured, using both hands now to pull it off your arms, “you won’t learn from my eternal scolding, so maybe I just need to take a different approach with you.”

“Captain please,” you fretted but he quickly drew a finger to your lips before you could protest any further.

“You’ll be quiet for the lesson,” he hushed you, unbuckling the shoddy attempt of a fastened harness, dropping it to the floor along with the white trousers that followed.

You stood frozen in the middle of his office—with your trousers pulled down—praying to the walls that nobody would stroll inside, watching as Levi took a step back to rummage through a nearby shelf.

Once he was back, he seemed to be holding onto a roll of rope that he was slowly in the process of unwinding. “I’ll teach you just how tight the harness is supposed to stay on…”

You took a sharp gulp as the prospect of humiliation looked over you; quickly being met with the bristling fibres caressing the smooth skin of your thighs. The rope was constricting enough to feel a perpetual sort of discomfort.

You wanted to pipe up again and ask if this was really necessary, but if there was one thing you knew about Levi Ackerman, was that he was stubborn when it came to proving a point.

So your complaints might as well be spoken to a brick wall, since he wasn’t going to budge.

Stepping back at last, he seemed satisfied with the display. “That is the exact way, the exact tightness that you’re supposed to wear it on.”

“But sir, it’s uncomfortable,“ you let slip a protest anyway.

“It’s there for your safety, cadet,” Levi reminded you in a stern tone, “a loose fit harness is a death sentence out there on the field.”

“I guess…” you admitted as you trailed off, you technically knew that but there hadn’t been any incidents lately so you let loose for once, “I learned my lesson though, so I’ll just put everything back on and be on my way—“

“—not so fast,” Levi interrupted you, catching your attention before you had a chance to slip away. “I didn’t even dismiss you yet. Maybe you also need a lesson in following orders, huh?”

With a resigned sigh, you braced yourself for what this could possibly mean. “Sorry, I didn’t think….”

“Funny you should say that,” he scoffed, walking up right behind you and pushing you forward so that you were guided towards his desk, “considering your entire job is to listen and to take in commands,” he added, pressing your back forward, making your chest kiss the polished oak table, “and that very much includes from me.”

“I’m sorry captain, I’ll do better—“ you backtracked, quickly realising the error of your ways.

“—yeah, you will,” Levi interrupted you for the second time during this whole exchange, “because you’re going to follow them right now.”

Before you could say anything, he pinched the fabric of your underwear by the hem on either side before slowly pulling it off of you. Such an action caused you to freeze, wondering exactly what was going on right now. You seemed to have an idea where it was going however given that his actions didn’t stop there.

Levi’s hands felt calloused against your skin, his flesh meeting with yours like rugged stone against silk. He pressed his hips tight against your form; the close contact making you slightly recoil but also shudder with heated anticipation.

“First lesson,” he muttered under his lips, “you’re going to be quiet for me, got it?”

With a brisk motion, you hurriedly nodded as you adhered to his command. You didn’t want to admit it, but there was something oddly arousing about the situation he had you in, despite it being very, very much wrong.

Albeit involuntarily, your body reacted to his sweeping touch with the slight arch of your back, inviting him to take control of the situation even further.

Ever so carefully, Levi slid his fingers right behind you and against your sex, feeling a wave of heated surprise flood within him when he realised how nice you felt to his touch. He pressed two pointed digits together and prodded at your soaked entrance, taking the plunge and easing his touch to reach inside.

Levi hummed to himself, as though pleasantly surprised, by how easily you took him in. “You’re so wet. Are you… enjoying this?”

However, you didn’t dare to reply out of pure and utter embarrassment rising from deep within you. While it was true that something about this situation was surely turning you on, you couldn’t possibly admit such a thing. Instead, you bit at your lip in an attempt to stifle away a gasping breath that threatened to escape too early, before he even got started—if he would at all.

With a hint of slight amusement evident in the air, Levi began to lazily pump his fingers in and out of your cunt. The languid motions were frustratingly teasing, barely doing enough to bring you over the edge and then, without a warning, he withdrew them. You remained silent for a moment, quickly realising that from the faint rustle of his clothing dropping and his own loosening harness, that the lesson was in fact far from over.

Leaning in his still clothed form over yours wherever he could reach, he drew his hand forward to pull at your hair, closing it into a tight fist with the strands ensnared. “Remember, not a single sound.”

Barely given a chance to nod or say anything at all in return, you were locked into stunned silence as you felt him position the tip of his throbbing length against your sex; entering you with less patience than when his fingers teased at you. Inch by inch, he eased his cock to be fully enveloped by your core, shuddering out rolling, raspy breaths from how good your pussy felt.

Levi then began to move, rocking his hips at a purposeful pace; each thrust pushing in as deep as he could reach while in between your legs. Each rutted slam sent waves of rising pleasure sweeping across your body���pushing the simmering tension further and further up towards the surface—reaching a near boiling peak.

From a festering, almost scalding heat that settled within the confines of your body, you especially felt the ropes on your body now. Sweat gathered at the coarse fibres, rubbing raw at your legs in an almost painful way. You continued to try and keep quiet as he pounded into you, but both the pain and the sensation of being filled alike, elicited an untamed moan to escape from your lips.

Sensing that you were close, Levi picked up the momentum in increasing, almost feverish fervour. His hands clenched around your hips to keep himself steadily locked around your frame, bringing both you and himself to an almost violent impending orgasm.

Feeling the tingling heat begin to coil and and tighten in your body, finally washing away like a blissful radiating heat—your body stuttered in warm desire. As you finally came undone, you melted flat over the desk, panting out strained gasps as Levi too, released himself into you with a deep, final thrust.

Levi found himself leaning into you to catch his breath after; his body entangled in your limbs as you both shuffled around to steady one another. A silent exchange passed between the two of you before he finally helped you get up.

With a grunt, he finally broke the quiet tension, “I’ll trust that you’ll behave yourself now?”

Despite feeling worn out from the intense exchange, you managed to yawn out a reply, “Of course, captain.”

Although it was very much clear from the sultry tone in your voice that such a promise was in fact a lie and Levi might in fact see you again very, very soon.