#if you want me to go further into anything you can ask (^-^)
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hoonstqr · 2 days ago
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force me and choke me till i pass out - p.sh
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warnings: smut! mdni! choking kink, slight degradation, backshots, spanking, unprotected sex, if i missed smth, lmk! note: the way i immediately ss these pics because wtf?!?!? hybe never close the gyms. need him to manhandle me like a ragdoll, free use anytime!! also pls ignore any mistakes, not proofread. don't like it? don't read it. ps: these pics are not real just fyi😭
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“What did you just say?” Sunghoon asks as he stops thrusting into you to process what he just heard.
“I’m asking you to choke me.” You repeat your words, your voice a little shakier than you intended. Your heart races as you feel the heat rising to your cheeks, a mix of arousal and embarrassment.
Sunghoon stares at you momentarily, his eyes darkening with lust as he tries to understand your request. He’s never done anything like this before, but your gaze tells him it’s something you need. “You’re sure about this? I don’t want to hurt you baby.”
You nod, trying to keep your voice steady. “I trust you, hoonie. Please.” The words come out in a breathy plea, and Sunghoon couldn’t refuse you. He leans in closer, his grip on your neck gentle at first, a question in his eyes. You nod again, urging him to go further.
His hand tightens around your throat, the pressure not painful but thrilling. You gasp, feeling your body respond instantly to the new sensation. Your pussy clenches around his cock, and he groans at the sudden change in tightness. The power dynamics shift and you can see the excitement in his eyes as he realizes you’re not just okay with this—you’re craving it.
Sunghoon starts to move again, his strokes a little slower and more deliberate as he chokes you. You were seeing stars cause of the delicious tension between your legs and the warm hand squeezing your neck. You can feel the blood pulsing in your ears, heightening every sensation, and making the pleasure more intense. The headboard slams against the wall in rhythm with his thrusts, echoing through the room.
He leans in closer to your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin. “You like that, don’t you? Tell me how much you like it, slut. Such a nasty girl. Made me wait so long for this.” His voice sends shivers down your spine.
You whimper, your eyes rolling back as you struggle to form words. “Y-yes, I like it, N-nghh” you manage to get out, the pressure on your throat making your voice squeak.
Sunghoon smirks, his grip tightening just a fraction, and he resumes his punishing rhythm, his hips snapping into you. Your ass cheeks burn from the friction against the bed, but it’s a sweet burn that mingles with the pleasure coursing through you. Your juices smearing on the sheets, and each smack of his hips against your ass fills the room with a lewd, wet sound that only serves to turn you on more.
Your eyes water, but it’s not from pain—it’s the overwhelming rush of pleasure that’s building up in your core. Your hands desperately claw at the bed, trying to find something to hold onto, your legs trembling as you try to keep yourself in position.
“H–hoonie, gonna c-cum,” you stutter out, your vision blurring around the edges.
Sunghoon’s grip tightens just enough to make your breath hitch, and his strokes grow more erratic. “Yeah? Cum for me, baby. Let me feel it around my cock. I want to see you lose it.” His voice is gruff, thick with his own need as he watches you teeter on the edge.
The pressure builds and builds until it’s all you can focus on—his hand around your throat, his cock stretching your ass, the sound of skin slapping together. Then it hits you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing in the throes of a powerful orgasm. You can’t hold back the choked scream that rips from your mouth as your orgasm spasms around his shaft.
Sunghoon’s eyes widen as he feels your walls clench around him, milking him closer to his release. He can’t believe how hot you look, your cheeks flushed, your eyes watering, and your worn-out state. He buries himself deep inside you, the head of his cock reaching for your cervix. You feel the pulse of his climax, ropes of cum filling you up as he empties himself into you.
His grip on your throat relaxes as he comes down from his high, his breathing ragged and heavy. You both lay there, panting, your bodies sticky with sweat and the aftermath of your intense coupling. Sunghoon’s eyes are glazed over, a look of pure satisfaction etched on his face as he looks down at you. You feel his cock soften inside you, but it’s not the end.
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punkshort · 10 hours ago
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Just This Once: Part Two
Pairing: dbf!joel miller x f!reader
Summary: Your dad surprises you after work with a brand new bed as a late birthday present. The kicker? Joel is there to help assemble it, leading to a very tense afternoon.
Warnings: no outbreak au, language, smut (18+ MDNI), age gap, phone sex (alluded to), sexual tension, references to masturbation (both), reader's mom is dead, reader has hair (length unspecified), size kink, unprotected piv sex, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), dirty talk, sneaking around, mutual pining, takin' nudes
WC: 6.6K
Part One
Let me know when you get home safe
You smirk and collapse into bed.
I've been home for 20 min. What took you so long?
Then...
??
You roll your eyes and burrow deeper into your covers.
I thought you'd text me sooner. I left almost 40 min ago.
You wait anxiously for Joel to reply, staring at your screen for the words to appear. Truthfully, you have no idea what you even want him to say, just that you want to keep him talking.
I had no idea what to say
You grin and before you can reply, another text comes through.
Still don't
Butterflies bloom in your stomach as you type out your response.
Where are you?
It takes less than thirty seconds for him to answer: bed.
You're thinking about me in bed?
You can practically hear his heavy sigh from across the city.
We can't do that again, I told you
Do what?
Don't play dumb darlin - you know what
I just asked a question.
Your old man's got a shotgun in his basement, I've seen it
Your shoulders sag and you relent.
Ok ok.... it won't happen again and I won't breathe a word of it to anyone. Promise.
Good
And you think that's the end of it. After you don't reply to his last text and he doesn't add anything further, you roll over to switch off your lamp and you do your best to focus on falling asleep without thinking of Joel's deep brown eyes gazing up at you while you ride him, all hazy and filled with desire. You quickly find it's impossible not to and it has you tossing and turning while trying to ignore the fresh ache growing between your legs. You skirt your hand down past your sleep shorts with a frustrated huff when, to your delight, your phone lights up again.
What are you wearing?
---
It's Friday, fucking finally. Your entire week at work had been shit. You made one tiny mistake that ended up costing you three hours to fix, a mistake you don't normally make and you just know it's because you've been distracted.
It's been two weeks since you've gone to visit your dad, meaning it's been two weeks since you've laid eyes on Joel. That night you shared should have slowly become a distant memory, but instead you found yourself texting him every single day, making it impossible to forget. Sometimes it was innocent enough, but at one point or another the conversation always turned flirty, which then turned heated, which then evolved to one of you giving in and calling the other so you could whisper filth into the phone with your fingers stuffed inside your pussy, but no matter how much you try, you're never able to get as deep or make yourself feel as good as Joel did.
It's driving you crazy.
So when you arrive home from work Friday afternoon and throw your car into park, you're too distracted to notice a familiar pickup truck parked on the street. To be fair, you live above a restaurant, so there's often cars parked along the street. You've learned to block it out. But when you go to open your door only to find it already unlocked, your heart stutters in your chest and you glance around. That's when you spot your father's truck and you roll your eyes.
"Dad?" you call up the stairs from down below.
"Yeah, honey, up here!"
You close the door behind you and trudge up the stairs, dodging various pairs of shoes you store on the end of each step. Right when you turn to enter your kitchen, you hear your father talking and laughing with someone. You don't have much time to wonder who it is because then you hear his voice, all low and velvety smooth. The very same voice that just the night before was telling you through the phone how much he missed your perfect, soft pussy and then begged you for a picture.
It suddenly became impossible to breathe.
"Hey, Kiddo," your dad says when he steps out of your bedroom. He's carrying large cardboard pieces to the stairs and sweat coats his face. "Me 'n Joel are puttin' your new bed frame together. Almost done."
Him and Joel. Joel. Putting together your bed. Joel is in your bedroom.
Your skin feels like it's on fire and your blood is pumping so fast, it makes you lightheaded.
"Uh, w-what new bed frame?" you stammer, forcing yourself to move out of his way.
"The one I promised for your birthday," he calls over his shoulder from your stairwell. Your eyes rake across the kitchen towards your open bedroom door, but Joel is nowhere to be seen. "Sorry it took so long but I told ya I'd get to it."
"Oh," you say, "uh, t-thank you. You didn't - um - you didn't have to do that."
Your dad emerges from the stairs and your gaze sweeps back over to him.
"Sure I did. It's your birthday present. 'Sides..." He awkwardly rubs the back of his neck and looks to the floor when he says, "felt bad 'bout our fight. Wanted to make things right, check in on ya. Miss seein' you 'round."
"Oh, Dad, it's fine. I'm not mad anymore, I've just been busy with work and stuff," you say. He looks down at your work clothes: a thin blouse half tucked into an off-white pencil skirt and heels.
"Look so grown up," he murmurs softly. You give him a small smile and shrug, temporarily forgetting Joel is just in the next room until your dad says, "Don't my little girl look all grown up, Joel?"
Joel's standing in the doorway to your bedroom, staring at you across the kitchen. You swallow and tighten your fingers around the edge of your counter and you fucking pray your father doesn't read the hungry look in Joel's eyes when he slowly and appreciatively sizes you up and down.
"Yeah," he finally says, voice only a little gravelly. It could be innocent, but you knew better. He clears his throat and tries again. "Look real grown up."
You give him a smile, one you hope looks natural. "Thanks, Joel."
Your dad snorts and crosses the kitchen, heading back towards your bedroom to finish your bed frame. "Callin' him Joel now? Since when?"
Joel locks eyes with you and you see it. You fucking see that heated look he gives you, letting you know exactly what he's thinking about: you, grinding down on his lap and whispering little teases in his ear while calling him Mr. Miller.
"Oh, uh, I-"
"I told her to," Joel says over his shoulder once your dad disappears into your bedroom. Joel's eyes remain firmly pinned on you when he adds, "She's grown now 'n all."
Your eyes widen and you shoot him a look, but Joel just grins and turns back around, back into your fucking bedroom, to help your dad finish up.
Your head spins. This is not the way you wanted Joel in your apartment for the first time. You tiptoe in your heels to peek inside your room, where your father is sprawled out on your carpet with a wrench and Joel is holding your new padded headboard in place. Your dad is murmuring to himself as he focuses on securing the headboard to the rest of the frame but all you can focus on are Joel's massive hands curling around the beige fabric. You bite your lip and lean casually against the doorframe, allowing yourself to fantasize about Joel's grip on that headboard while he's pounding into you over and over and-
"I'm gonna order some pizza!" you exclaim suddenly. Your dad pauses and looks at you curiously but Joel just smirks. There's no possible way he didn't see right through you. Not with that smile and the way his cheeks tinted.
"Alright," your dad says slowly before focusing back on his work. You hurry into the kitchen and place an order from the restaurant downstairs, then anxiously look around. You're lucky your place isn't messier. At least your laundry is put away and the only dishes in your sink are from breakfast.
Still in your work clothes, you wander over to check your fridge, delighted to find that you have a few cans of beer left over from your friends.
In your bedroom, you hear your dad tell Joel he's all done. You hear shuffling and you imagine they are putting your bed back against the wall because next, they pop out of your room and head towards your living room, where your mattress and boxspring are temporarily being stored.
Joel tosses you a wink as he trails after your dad and you have to turn around and do the dishes so they don't see how flustered you are.
Your legs press together when you hear Joel's familiar grunts from somewhere behind you while he and your father struggle to drag your boxspring and then your mattress back in place. You're scrubbing a plate so fucking hard, you're surprised it doesn't shatter in your hands because you can't stop thinking about Joel and all the things you'd let him do to you if your dad wasn't there at that very moment.
"- you listenin' to me?" your father's voice says, causing you to jump and drop your sponge.
"Huh?"
You look at him, trying to ignore Joel next to him as he sheds his flannel and plucks loosely at the black t-shirt underneath, unsticking it from his sweaty chest. Fuck.
"Said Joel's gonna take the trash out and I'm gonna go grab that pizza. How long they say it'll take?"
You blink, blood singing hot in your veins when you mumble should be ready soon, then slowly dry your hands on a towel while your father and Joel collect the trash from your bed frame to take down to the dumpster.
Your apartment is silent for a few minutes after they disappear outside, the only sound coming from your heart pounding steadily in your ears as you wait for the door downstairs to open again.
When you hear the squeaky hinges open and close, then the dull, slow thud of his footsteps climbing the stairs, you remain stock still at your sink. Your fingernails press so hard into the stainless steel, it's a wonder they don't break. You can't bring yourself to turn around when he steps through the door, back into your kitchen. He told you it couldn't happen again and you agreed, but your phone calls the last two weeks spoke otherwise.
Without saying a word, Joel's on you in an instant, spinning you around and crashing his mouth hungrily against yours, driving away that little voice in the back of your head that keeps reminding you just this once, just this once.
You nearly crumple in his arms, feeble fingers digging into his shoulders for something to hold onto. His tongue slips past your lips with a groan and his hands grab eagerly at your blouse, bunching up the fabric in his fists, too fucking crazed and desperate to feel you again.
You whimper and he swallows it down, big hands releasing your shirt to travel lower and grab at your ass confined in your tight skirt. His skin is slightly damp with sweat and he tastes so good and feels so warm that it has you guiding his hand to the zipper of your skirt, encouraging him to pull it down.
"Can't," he mumbles before latching his mouth onto your neck.
You're impatient. You rake your fingers through his tousled hair and he sighs against your throat.
"Y'smell so good," he says, body pressing against yours, pinning your back to the edge of the counter.
"Joel-" you beg, but he keeps talking and his hands keep searching, grabbing for any part of you he can find.
"Been half hard since I got here," he admits, the confession sending a shock of arousal straight through your stomach and down to your core. "Got any idea what it was like for me to be in that room, movin' that mattress, knowin' you were fuckin' yourself right there last night?"
You gasp and claw at his hair, his neck - anywhere - while his mouth drags down the column of your throat. He ruts his hips against your stomach and you squeak when you're reminded of just how fucking big and thick he is. You drop your hand and rub your palm against the soft denim, over his impossibly hard cock caged in his jeans, and you whine in his ear. A wordless plea.
"Can't," he says again, but his hips buck forward, chasing your hand. He pulls you closer, his teeth scrape your jaw, and then his lips are seared over yours once again, smearing whatever remains of your lipstick.
Joel gasps and breaks the kiss but keeps his hips firmly pressed into your palm. He looks down at you like he wants to swallow you whole, his brown eyes so dark they look nearly black. One hand lifts to get tangled in your hair as you both fight every impulse to tear each other apart right then and there.
"I'll ... I'll call you tonight-" he begins, voice sounding pained. You shake your head. His grip in your hair tightens.
"No, Joel, please," you beg. Not another phone call. If you didn't know any better, you sound as if you're on the verge of tears. He sighs and presses his forehead to yours, his wet lips hovering over your mouth when you say, "it's not enough. I need you. Please, Joel, I can't-"
The door downstairs swings open and you fucking fly apart. Joel's eyes, which were just filled with lust, now are wild with panic.
"Go to your bedroom, y-your hair and-" he waves his hand in front of his mouth and you hurry away as he's wiping the lipstick from his own mouth, closing the door behind you. A few seconds later, the door to your kitchen opens and you hear your father's voice. With trembling hands, you unbutton your blouse and unzip your skirt so you can change into more comfortable clothes while you hear plates being pulled from your cupboard. Your dad is telling Joel some story about the customer ahead of him in line who was asking every question under the sun about the ingredients in their sauce as you pull on a soft pair of leggings and an oversized shirt.
Before joining them for dinner, you tug a brush through your hair, taming the mess Joel's hand left behind, and wipe off the lipstick from your mouth and cheek. Once you think you look somewhat normal, although internally you might be on the verge of a fucking stroke, you take a shaky breath in and step out of your bedroom.
"Hey! There she is!"
You give your dad a weak smile and head for the fridge, avoiding Joel's eye but feeling his stare burning into your back.
"Here, I have a few of these," you say, grabbing the cans of beer and putting them on the table. "Some friend left them behind, I think."
Joel is sitting at your small, round kitchen table next to your father with an untouched piece of pizza on his plate. Meanwhile, your dad is nearly halfway through his first slice. You pull a glass from your cupboard and fill it at the sink, using the opportunity to take deep breaths and calm your nerves.
Unfortunately, when you turn around, Joel locks eyes with you and you feel as though you may melt into the floor. His fists clench tight on the table and you wouldn't notice unless you were looking for it, but his chest rises quicker than usual and there's a pink tint to his cheeks.
You sink into the chair across from him and shakily pick a piece of pizza from the box. You're hungry but you're so fucking turned on, it's hard to think about anything else. The pull between your legs is so uncomfortable, it has you shifting your weight in your seat while you take a few small bites of food. Joel must be feeling similarly because out of the corner of your eye, you finally see him slowly unfurl a fist and pick up his pizza.
"You seein' someone?"
Your eyes snap up to your father and you freeze. "What?" you ask breathlessly.
He points to the beers before grabbing one and cracking it open.
"You said a friend left 'em. You seein' someone new?"
Your throat closes up. You shake your head and take a bite of pizza so you can avoid elaborating. Across from you, Joel stiffens but remains silent. Your dad chuckles and he elbows Joel, snapping him out of his trance.
"'Member when we'd sit on the porch, waitin' for her dates to bring her home?"
"That only happened, like, twice," you mumble.
"Boys need'ta learn early on not to mess 'round and have some manners. Kept 'em in line," your dad continues, grabbing another piece of pizza. "Say the word and I can do it again-"
"How about you, Dad?" you ask, cutting him off. You can practically feel the tension radiating off Joel's shoulders from the direction the conversation was heading, and you need to put a stop to it. "Are you seeing anyone?"
The distraction is sufficient. Your dad launches into a ten minute monologue about his dry dating life while you and Joel do your best to act interested. The last fucking thing you want is for your dad to scare Joel off by reminding him of his fierce, protective side. Like he isn't already aware.
But perhaps you were too late because after they both finish eating and say their goodbyes, Joel can't look you in the eye. Something tells you that it isn't because he's trying to hide his attraction for you. You can't put your finger on it. Something about his body language and energy just seem... off. And then sure enough, hours later when you are distracting yourself with television after sending Joel multiple unanswered texts, you think your suspicion is correct.
---
A loud pounding on your door wakes you from a deep sleep. You startle awake with your heart in your throat. Your television is still on, forgotten, just like your phone buried somewhere in your sheets. You stumble out of bed after another knock that threatens to bring down the entire building and squint at the microwave to check the time.
Just past two in the morning. What the fuck?
You are about to go downstairs when logic prevails and you go to your window, instead.
The only car on the street is Joel's truck, right in front of your building.
Shit.
You fucking race to your bathroom and gargle with mouthwash for about three seconds. As you are hurrying down the stairs, you comb your fingers through your hair, hoping you look decent enough but knowing deep down it wouldn't really matter.
When you open the door, a shiver shoots down your spine.
"Joel," you barely get out before his crowding you, pushing you up against your stairs, mouth already devouring yours as he kicks the door shut behind him.
You curse, but it's muffled. His mouth is hard and insistent against yours, almost like he's angry, but not at you. His hands scan your body, over your pajamas, your face, your exposed skin, while his tongue explores your mouth. It's familiar now, for you both, under the cover of night once again, where your secret can remain safe.
It's a miracle you make it up the stairs without falling. You don't remember his mouth or hands ever leaving you as you stumble through your kitchen and into your room.
The television still plays in your otherwise dark room. Flickering lights dance across the walls, soft syndicated laughter is registered in the back of your brain. He untangles one hand from your hair and the other he pulls from underneath your shirt, then he takes a step back. You both drag in air, panting and studying each other's faces. His cheeks look flushed and your skin feels just as hot. Hair equally wild. The energy between you is palpable, crackling like electricity.
"Thought you got scared off," you say, breaking the silence. He blinks.
"Why?"
You shrug, already wishing you had waited til later to bring this up.
"You seemed weird when you left."
His throat bobs and he shakes his head, then his gaze shifts to your chest before finding your eyes again.
"Just needed to get the hell outta here 'fore he noticed somethin' was goin' on."
You nod slowly. Oh. So maybe you're a little paranoid. It doesn't explain the unanswered texts, but you don't feel much like talking anymore.
You dip down, crawling backwards onto your bed and whisper his name, dropping your head onto your pillows with a sigh, then fight back a smile at the greedy way his eyes rake up and down your body.
"Come here," you say quietly. You reach your arms out and wiggle your fingers. His dark eyes lock with yours and you grin.
His hands fall to his belt and warmth pools low in your stomach, deep between your legs. You squirm impatiently when he slowly slides the leather through his belt loops.
"Just..." he begins, pausing when you sit up to toss your shirt over your head, leaving your chest bare to him. He swallows hard and continues. "Just one more time."
You would have agreed to anything in that moment, so you nod while he pushes his jeans down to the floor before lowering himself to your bed. He crawls over you and your legs spread so his hips can settle there, pressing against your aching cunt. His arms tuck underneath your shoulders and just the weight of him pressing against your chest and pushing your legs apart is so fucking exquisite that it has your own hips circling for friction. You moan into his mouth when his lips find yours again and everything feels right, so fucking right, that tears burn the back of your eyes.
"Bad girl," he murmurs against your lips. Your fingers card through his thick, wavy hair and you smile. "Textin' me when I'm out with your old man. Coulda got me killed."
"You - what?" you breathe, tipping your head back so he could leave wet, open mouthed kisses along your throat. He sucks a little mark over your pulse point and then his lips find yours again before answering.
"Went out for a few beers after we left," he says while tilting his head to the opposite side. His tongue glides back inside your mouth and you taste it now, the remnants of the drinks he had earlier. Your fingers in his hair tighten. Relief washes over you.
You decide to ignore how obviously desperate you are for Joel's attention - something you know is a bad sign. Instead, you sigh and rut your hips upwards a little harder, pulling a low groan from his throat.
"Did you have fun?" you ask with a teasing grin. He picks up on it and growls, then palms your hip, squeezing the soft skin there, pulling you closer.
"Not as much fun as I'm havin' now."
You giggle when he pinches you and you try to squirm away, but you're still pinned helplessly underneath his broad frame.
Joel laughs, too, before leaving a trail of gentle kisses across your chest. It feels so loving and sweet that it has your breath catching in your throat even before his mouth latches onto your breast, tongue teasing your nipple with a satisfied hum before doing the same to the other.
"I missed you," you whisper boldly, pulse thrumming fast in your throat as you wait for his response. Is it too much? Maybe. But it's true.
"Was just here a few hours ago," he says. You roll your eyes.
"Not what I meant."
Joel sighs and rests the side of his head against your chest. You're absolutely certain he can hear how fast your heart is racing. He wraps his arms around you a little tighter when he admits, "Me, too."
And it's enough, for now, to know he craved you the same way you craved him.
His hand skids down your bare side, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake, until one finger hooks around the lace edge of your panties and gives them a playful tug. You pull your lower lip between your teeth and lift your hips so he can slide them and your shorts down your legs.
You become very aware you are stark naked underneath Joel Miller for the very first time while he somehow still has on his t-shirt and boxers. He pushes off the mattress and looks down to admire you all sprawled out for him and you feel a rush of embarrassment. That is, until he says-
"So fuckin' beautiful."
His voice is soft and filled with so much awe that you just might believe him. His gaze skims every inch of your exposed skin: your arms, your waist, your thighs. Like he's trying to memorize every little thing he sees.
"I want you," you gasp when his fingers delicately graze the inside of you leg. His deep brown eyes lift and he smirks when his fingers trail closer and closer to where you need him most.
"Yeah?" he asks. His voice sounds deeper and your legs begin to shake. His fingertips brush over your slit and you gasp again, body writhing on your bed - the bed he helped fucking build. You nod and lift your hips.
"Please."
Joel tuts and pushes one thick finger through your folds. He circles over your entrance but doesn't go any further. He just slowly slips his finger through your pussy, dragging it up, up, up until he's pressing down on your clit and you're moaning his name with your eyes squeezed shut.
"This what you want?" he breathes, arousal evident in his voice. You nod enthusiastically, chest heaving as he continues his slow, torturous route. Then he removes his finger and you whine in protest until your eyes reopen. He slips his finger into his mouth with a quiet groan, eyelids fluttering and you imagine his tongue swirling around, collecting your slick and swallowing it down.
You're afraid you may go insane if he doesn't fuck you soon.
"Joel-"
"I gotta- fuck," he moans before dropping onto his hands and settling his shoulders between your thighs. He pushes open your legs, spreading you wide so he can admire your glistening cunt up close. His teeth nip your inner thigh but his eyes remain glued to your center. "I gotta taste you, darlin'," he says, and it's amusing how he actually sounds filled with regret when he says it. You would have laughed if his lips didn't suction around your pussy a second later, tongue plunging through your folds just to flatten and circle your clit with the perfect amount of pressure to make your back arch off the mattress.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you moan his name. Your body is so wound tight, not only from earlier when he had you pinned against your kitchen counter with your father just downstairs, but from weeks without his touch.
"Can't believe how good this tight little pussy takes my cock," he mumbles, face buried between your legs, eyes closed.
Your thighs tremble underneath his hands, which are splayed wide, thumbs parting your lips to make way for his tongue. One of your hands snakes down to get lost in his messy hair, the other grips the sheets for dear life while Joel eats at your center with more enthusiasm than anyone else who has been in his position. By a mile.
His beard burns the inside of your thighs and in the back of your mind, you hope you'll still feel it in the morning. You're so desperate for any reminder of the way he tears you apart that you'll gladly embrace the discomfort.
Every time his warm tongue glides through your folds, he moans. Your face feels like it's on fire when you grind your hips onto his mouth, gasping and dragging in air like you're drowning. He seems to love it. Every roll of your hips causes him to squeeze the meat of your thighs, and when you whimper his name, all rough and needy, his tongue works even faster. He licks and sucks and moans into your cunt, and when he slides two thick fingers inside of you with ease, you curse and dig your heel into his back.
"Fuck," he whispers when he pulls his face away to catch his breath. He stares down at his fingers buried deep, watching the way you stretch for him, suck him in. His eyes go dark when a thick drop of your arousal slips down his fingers, pooling between his knuckles.
"Wish you could see the way this perfect pussy opens up f'me," he murmurs, still entranced.
You don't even think. Your mind is a hazy blur, heart thrashing in your chest at the way he holds you right on the brink of your release. So, you say, "Show me," and point to the Polaroid next to your bed.
Joel's eyes flicker, following your hand, and he grins.
You had been tinkering with it the past few days, trying to fix the blue marks that were showing up on all your photos. After cleaning the rollers and checking the expiration date on the film, you figured out a film shield was the answer and you had been taking test shots in your room since it had the best lighting.
Could he have taken pictures with his phone? Sure. But something about the way he handled the clunky camera with one hand was so fucking hot, you're eternally grateful you abandoned it on your end table.
He takes one picture, then two. The familiar whir of the rollers fills the air, drowning out the television behind him, then the photographs spit out, one at a time. You writhe a little when his attention gets drawn to the pictures and his hand between your legs stall. He waits about thirty seconds for them to develop, then without even showing them to you, he growls and drops them into the sheets. His mouth suctions over your pussy again and you gasp. He sucks and flicks his tongue over your clit while his hand pumps steadily into you, curling his fingers, making you nearly scream if it isn't for how fast and hard you're breathing.
"Joel-" you gasp, "Joel, I'm - I'm gonna -"
You struggle to finish your sentence but it doesn't matter. He knows. Joel hums between your thighs and works faster, devouring your cunt and dragging your orgasm out of you. Your body tenses and you cry out his name, but he doesn't let up. Not until your legs clamp the sides of his head does he remove his fingers to drink down every drop of your release, then he finally lets his jaw relax.
You're seeing stars. You have to be covered in sweat and you probably look insane, with your hair and eyes all wild while you lay there, completely fucked out.
He must enjoy it, though, because next thing you know he's covering you with his body once again. His lips are on yours and all you can taste and smell is you, but you aren't repulsed. In fact, you find you really fucking like it. When it's on him, when your taste and scent is mixed with Joel's, it's intoxicating.
"Shoulda done that last time," he rasps. He leans back to sit on his knees and tugs off his shirt, letting it fall somewhere on your floor. You blink and try to admire his bare chest while he's kicking his boxers off, but it's hard to focus. Then, just as fast as he sat up, he's back on you once again. His breath skips when he glides the tip of his cock through your folds, then rests against your opening. You're still struggling to come back to earth, body lax and sated and so fucking warm underneath him. He groans brokenly into your neck when he presses inside, reveling in how easily you welcome his cock now that he already worked you open with his mouth and fingers.
You make a soft noise and circle your arms loosely around his neck. There's no need to go as slowly as last time. You're so fucking soaked, you're more than ready for him, but he still takes his time. He holds your hip steady with one hand as he feeds you his cock, inch by inch, parting your walls and sighing against your dewy skin.
"Shit," he groans. His teeth pinch your throat when he bottoms out and you gasp. "This what you want? Needed my cock that bad?"
"Yes," you whimper, "Christ, Joel - yes."
He drags himself out and plunges back inside you with a rough grunt. Your legs fall open wider, giving yourself up to him entirely.
His beard is scratchy and it tickles your skin, making you shiver when his mouth traces the edge of your jaw. He fucks you slow and deep, like he wants to make it last, like he wants you to remember. Your lips find his shoulder and you leave a path of open mouthed kisses across his tanned skin. And when your tongue darts out to taste him properly, he groans and rolls his hips deeper.
It's perfect and intense and it's everything you could ever want.
"Jesus, look at you," he says. But you look up at him, instead. He looks how you feel - needy, wrecked, and desperate. Then his eyes fall between your bodies, where his cock slides in and out of you, coated in your arousal, and you groan when you see what he sees.
Look at us, you want to say, but you bite the words back. It feels like it's too much. But you think it. How could you not, when you seem to fit together so perfectly?
With his voice smooth and soft as velvet, he says, "Dirty girl... thinkin' 'bout me fuckin' you like this with your daddy in the room."
Your cheeks burn and you try to swallow, but your throat is too dry. When you meet his gaze, he looks different. He's worked up and his eyes are pitch black. His hips start to pound into you faster.
Your throat tightens.
"I- fuck," you choke out when he brushes up against a particularly sensitive spot. You try again. "Y-you're the one who kissed me whe-"
Joel chuckles and shakes his head, dark curls falling loose across his forehead.
"I saw the way you were lookin' at me 'fore all that," he goads, then leans down to nip at your earlobe before adding, "When we were puttin' together the bed. Tell me what you were thinkin' 'bout."
You whine and pitch your head back into your pillow. You can already feel your hips ache from how fast and hard he's fucking into you now. It has your breath stuttering and your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
When you take too long to respond, his mouth suctions over your breast. His teeth leave a sharp bite on your nipple and you yelp.
"Tell me," he says again. You shudder, breath too shallow and quick to answer, so you grab one of his arms and lift it above your head. You press his hand around the padded headboard and he gets it. The smirk he gives you is deadly when plants his other hand into the mattress for leverage.
Your legs wrap around his waist and he starts to slam into you. Each thrust knocks the air from your lungs. He pushes you further and further up the bed until the top of your head hits the headboard. Joel sees it and he drops to his elbow. The hand that was pushing into the mattress is now cupping the top of your head and you think you might implode from the way his arm curls protectively around you while the other is gripping your headboard so tight, you can see the tendons twitching in his wrist.
"Like this?" he grits out. You nod, mouth agape and brows furrowed. Tears spring to your eyes as you teeter on the edge. He sees them and kisses them away when they fall. Ultimately, it's the hours and hours of pent up frustration that have you coming so hard, your vision goes white. But it's the combination of how rough he's fucking you and how sweet he's holding and kissing you that has your cunt pulsing around his cock, dragging out your orgasm for what feels like an eternity.
"Fuck," he gasps. His fingers tighten around the crown of your head and you feel his bicep flex along the side of your face. "W-where? Where, baby?"
His voice sounds urgent but you still take a second to soak in the word baby before murmuring inside, just like before.
He doesn't hesitate. He comes a moment later, yanking on your headboard for support with a loud groan. You hear it rattle and you plant kisses on the underside of his jaw, hoping to melt away some of the tension being held there.
His hips flex forward erratically, each push paired with a heavy grunt until he finally stills. His hand drops from the headboard and his face tucks into the crook of your neck.
You feel his breath fanning across your sweat soaked skin and you close your eyes. There's no rush, this time. There's no risk. So you lay there and catch your breath with Joel's massive body pinning you into the mattress and heavy cock softening inside you.
"Goddamn," he murmurs in between light kisses to your collarbone. You hum and soothingly run your palms up and down his back with your eyes closed. He shivers when your nails graze his spine and he holds you a little tighter. You swear you could fall asleep, just like that.
Joel begrudgingly lifts himself up to slide out from between your legs. His eyes flicker with something dark when he sees his seed leaking out of your spent cunt, but he blinks it away and rolls onto his back with a tired groan.
"Just need a second and I'll get goin'," he assures you. His forearm is thrown over his closed eyes and you take the opportunity to study his broad chest and soft belly in the glow from your television. God, he's so handsome. How did you not see it before?
"Why don't you stay?" you ask, voice raspy and thick. He peeks at you in surprise and drops his arm to his side.
"Yeah?"
You remember his comment last time, about his house feeling lonely, and it pulls at your heart. "Yeah," you say, shifting onto your side and wrapping an arm around his middle. You nuzzle into his chest and he drapes an arm around your shoulders.
"Okay," he says softly. "But next time, we're figurin' out a way f'you to stay at mine. Want you wrapped up in my bed, feedin' you breakfast."
"Next time?" you repeat, unable to keep the eagerness from your voice. "What happened to just this once?"
The hand drawing aimless circles on your arm stills.
"It... I - uh -"
You lift your chin and shoot him a sly smirk.
He rolls his eyes but you see the corners of his mouth twitch.
"Just go to sleep," he mutters. He sounds annoyed but you know better.
You close your eyes with a smile and his hand resumes stroking your arm.
Deep down, you know what you're doing is so much more complicated than what you're willing to admit within your four walls. Maybe you'll figure it out, maybe you won't. But neither of you are willing to think about that tonight. Because tonight, away from familiar, judgmental eyes, you're just two people seeking comfort in each other.
And it's enough.
301 notes · View notes
misctf · 2 days ago
Text
Experiential Learning
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“Dude, I don’t get it.”
“What’s not to get?” Mike grinned.
The two men paused their jog, taking a few deep breaths and basking in the warmth of the summer air. Jason wiped some sweat from his forehead and looked towards his friend.
“I guess I can understand it, well in theory.” Jason continues, running a hand through his blond hair, “But you’re telling me you’ll fuck around for hours and still not blow? Like, what’s the point?”
“That is the point, bro.” Mike stretches his muscular arms, “When you're right on the edge, so close to release... it's like nothing else. Fuck... and when you do finally let go.” His grin widens, “Fucking mind-blowing, best orgasm you’ll ever have.”
“Yeah but dude, isn't it just torture? Having to hold back all that time?” Jason shakes his head, “I'd rather just bust a nut and be done with it. Fuck, how do you get anything done? I feel like I’d be so fucking horny all day.”
Mike chuckles and slaps Jason on the back, “Oh man, it’s about the journey, not the destination. And that journey could last for hours, even days if you get as good as me.”
Jason raises an eyebrow skeptically. “Hours? Days? Dude, I don't know if my balls could take that much punishment. Sounds like a case of self-inflicted blue balls.”
“Ah you’re boring, man.” Mike shrugs, “But if you ever want a lesson.” He winks playfully.
“Gross dude.” Jason chuckles, “You do you, man. Just glad I’m not your cock.”
“You wish you were.” Mike laughs, “C’mon, lets finish this run.”
----------------
It’s the next morning when Jason is awakened by the sound of an unfamiliar alarm.
“Ugh fuck.” He thinks. His body feels stiff- more so than what he would’ve expected from the intensity of his workout yesterday, “I didn’t go that hard.” He thinks, his thoughts shifting to the blaring alarm, “Okay, okay... I can’t see anything...” It was so dark, and he was covered in warm fabric, “Those black out curtains are good...” He tries to reach out towards the sound of the alarm, “My arms... I can’t move my arms...” It’s a strange sensation, as if he doesn’t have arms to move.
As the realization slowly dawns on Jason, panic begins to set in. He tries to sit up, to move his legs, but feels only a strange, throbbing heat emanating from below. Each movement he makes just causes his body to twitch. He tries again and again to move, but nothing responds to his mental commands. Even his desperate attempts to call out for help are useless. No words are able to leave his mouth, which feels forced open in an circular shape. The only thing Jason can feel is his form rubbing against something soft with each weak twitch of his stiff body.
“Ugh fuck...” Jason perks up at the sound of Mike voices, “God damnit... this fuckin’ alarm.”
The alarm is silenced and Mike throws the sheets off of him. The light shines through the room, illuminating it and giving Jason a better view. Jason can barely process his new perspective. He finds himself looking directly up at Mike's toned abdominal muscles, the individual abs clearly defined. His gaze traces up further, taking in the expansive, sculpted pectoral muscles above. To either side of Jason, towering and filling his entire field of vision, are Mike's colossal thighs. He can feel the warmth radiating from them.
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“C’mon dude! Don’t you see me?” Jason thinks, an increasing sense of panic welling up from inside him.
Mike yawns and looks down, a slow grin forming across his face. Jason can feel Mike’s eyes on him and he wants to ask why the hell his buddy is smiling at him. More importantly, he wanted to ask why the fuck he was apparently in his bed, wedged between his bro’s thighs. But he couldn’t- for whatever reason he could form the words.
“Well hello there, handsome.” Mike chuckles to himself, “Looks like someone's ready to start the day.” Mike reaches down at wraps his meaty hand around his throbbing cock.
A jolt of intense pleasure shoots through Jason's entire being as he feels Mike's strong hand wrap around his body. The sensation is overwhelming - every nerve ending seems to come alive at once. He can feel the texture of Mike's skin, the slight calluses on his palm, the firm yet gentle grip. As Mike begins to stroke, slowly at first then picking up speed, waves of ecstasy pulse through Jason's new body. He twitches and throbs in Mike's grasp, growing even harder.
“Oh god oh fuck what the hell is happening?! I.... ohhhh.... please stop..... I'm not a dick.... I'm not a damn cock! I’m a man!”
Jason's mind reels as the sensations intensify. Mike's grip tightens, stroking faster now. Jason's thoughts grow increasingly slurred and fragmented.
“Nnngh f-fuck... s'too much...” Jason's brain fogs over with each pump of Mike's fist. The pleasure is all-consuming, wiping away coherent thought, “Can't... can't think straight...”As Mike's strokes become more urgent, Jason's resolve crumbles. The boundaries of his identity blur and fade, “I'm... I'm not... hnnngh! 
Jason's protests dissolve. In his hazy, lust-addled state, the idea of being separate from Mike's cock starts to seem absurd. After all, everything that made him Jason was gone. His firm pecs, muscular arms, toned legs- gone, his body just a veiny, thick shaft. His handsome features, killer smile- gone, just a pink cock head. Jason's mind goes completely blank as the pleasure peaks. All rational thought vanishes, replaced only by pure, primal need.
“Yes... I am a cock... Mike's cock...” Jason thinks, his remaining shreds of identity merging fully with his new role, “This is all I am, all I've ever been...” His purpose becomes clear, “Need... to... cum...”
But the hand stops. And as it does, Mike throws back his head and moans, basking in the pleasure and pain of denied release. All the while, Jason is suddenly jolted back to reality, his thoughts becoming clear, as a sense of clarity washes over him.
“Fuck...” He thinks as he regains focus, “I nearly...”
A sense of dread washes over him. He was so close. So close to losing himself. If Mike hadn’t stopped... if he kept going...
“...and when you do finally let go... Fucking mind-blowing...”
Mike’s words repeat in Jason’s consciousness. And Jason realizes that there is certainly a truth to his bro’s statement. If... when Mike finally released... Jason tries to push the thought out of his head. He had time- maybe he could find a way to communicate or reverse this. But before he can think more on it, Jason feels his perspective change again as Mike gets out of bed.
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“Gotta hit the gym first.” Mike mumbles, grinning down at his slowly softening dick, “It’s been a few days, hasn’t it? Workout first, then...”
And Jason begins to realize he might not have as much time left as he thought. Mike grabs a pair of compression shorts and plunges Jason back into darkness, the feeling of the soft fabric teasing him even more. His thoughts growing foggy once again as each of Mike’s movements send a wave of pleasure and pain down the length of his sensitive, semi-hard body. The aching need nearly unbearable. Despite his earlier determination to escape this predicament, a small part of Jason finds himself craving the release he was denied. To fully experience Mike's take on edging.
"Maybe..." he muses dreamily, "maybe letting go won't be so bad....might be nice to finally...cum..."
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pearlessance · 3 days ago
Text
Daddy's Home!
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summary: gojo makes up where your boyfriend falls short small. you know where home is.
pairing: bestfriend!gojo x f!reader
warnings: explicit sexual content MDNI, infidelity, lowkey perv!gojo who's sooo obsessed with you, dry humping, dirty talk, sloppy kissing, hair pulling, size difference, unprotected sex, overstim, creampie, pet names, cock warming at the end
note: i tried very hard to keep this short but i have a lot to say about satoru gojo so sorry :( SIKEEE i can never be sorry for loving this whore, eat up!! <3
wc: 2.2k
[masterlist] [read on AO3!]
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bestfriend!gojo who knows you like the back of his hand. he’s memorized your order at all of your favorite food spots, knows you ask for oat milk in your coffee and can tell when it’s wrong just by the color of it. 
bestfriend!gojo who keeps a bullet point list in his notes app dedicated to you for all those little bits of information you tell him in casual conversation. your shoe size, your birthstone, your favorite book, your preferred skincare brands just in case you run out. 
bestfriend!gojo follows you around the shopping mall and sits in the dressing rooms with you while you pick and choose which things to purchase. he gives his input freely, but you insist he’s not very helpful. “it’s because you look fuckin’ delicious in everything,” he says, doubling down when you roll your eyes and accuse him of lying for your benefit. he palms the bulge in his pants with a grin to drive his point home. “how do you think this happened, then?”
you scoff and say, “you’re being gross,” but it takes you twice as long to remove this dress as the last one. you arch your back a little more, bend over just a little further. and satoru stares, mouth watering, head filled with filthy thoughts that linger long after he slides his credit card at the register.
and when you get a new boyfriend, bestfriend!gojo is the first to tell you he’s not good enough for you. he doesn’t like the same things you do, doesn’t have the same sweet tooth, doesn’t make an effort to worship the ground you walk on as he should. all things gojo does with ease. 
but once the honeymoon phase fizzles out, bestfriend!gojo is always there to listen to you vent after an argument. doesn’t think you’re overreacting at all when you go through your boyfriend’s social media to see just how many girls he follows. so what if they’re his family? in fact, he urges you that this is a breakup-level matter. “i’m just saying, if i were your boyfriend…”
bestfriend!gojo who’s appalled when you tell him that your boyfriend doesn’t like that the two of you still have sleepovers. they’re innocent enough, right? you’re just sleeping in the same bed. it’s not like you’re taking care of his morning wood! (well, there was that one time…)
bestfriend!gojo who shows up anyway, long after you’ve fallen asleep, and slips beneath your familiar sheets. when you wake to his movements, you just smile up at him, lay your head on his chest and let out the cutest, most content sigh he’s ever heard.
bestfriend!gojo who keeps all your secrets, no matter what. so, when you come over late one night with tension in your shoulders and a scowl on your face, he immediately sits you down and demands to know what’s wrong. he says, “tell me so i can fix it,” and fully prepares to do whatever it takes.
yet still, it comes as a surprise when you flop back onto his bed, cover your face with your hands, and admit, “it’s too small!”
he doesn’t want to make assumptions, but gojo just knows. “are you saying what i think you’re saying?”
“maybe…what do you think i’m saying?”
there’s no use fighting off his wide smile. “that boyfriend you seem to like so much has a tiny cock, doesn’t he?”
“satoru! stop laughing!”
bestfriend!gojo who loves you more than anything, but this is just too fucking good. his terrible chivalry can be fixed with time, but a small dick lasts forever. he’s laughing so hard a stitch forms in his side, but his mirth simmers as he sees the genuine frustration on your face. “oh, baby. i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it. come here.”
you crawl into his lap, arms wrapped tight around his neck. you’re so soft and small in his arms, and he runs his hands soothingly down your back. it’s funny to him, hilarious, really…but this part isn’t. he hates that you’re unsatisfied, hates that you’re strung so tight.
bestfriend!gojo would do anything for you. “you know that, right?”
“i know,” you say through a sniffle.
he pushes your hair behind your ear and kisses your forehead. “so tell me what you need. i’ll take good care of you. promise.”
you say, “just hold me,” and so he does. gojo wraps his arms around your waist and crushes your body against his, leaning back against the headboard. your tits press against his chest and he can feel the hard peaks of your nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt, but he doesn’t say a word. just lets you rest your head in the crook of his neck, your warm breath leaving condensation on his smooth skin. he thinks you’re right where you belong.
his cock always comes to life just from seeing you, but you’re used to it by now. don’t even flinch as it swells underneath you. you know he can’t help it, after all. you’re just so pretty. 
it pushes up between your legs, nestling right against the seam of your leggings. gojo can feel every dip and curve of your pussy, can feel your poor, desperate clit pulse with need against the underside of his cock.
at first, the tilt of your hips is so minuscule he almost doesn’t notice it, movements experimental and cautious. but then your pace is increasing, little by little, bit by bit. and gojo’s heavy breaths turn into low groans at the delicious friction, but he only continues rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back. “you wanna talk about it some more?”
you shake your head, the tip of your nose running across the column of his throat. “just wanna feel better.”
bestfriend!gojo who knows just what to do. he grabs your hips and helps you move a little faster, smiling to himself in satisfaction when you let out the sweetest sounding whimper. “don’t worry. i’ve got you, baby,” he promises. 
you tangle your hands in his hair, pulling so hard at the roots that he moans. he returns the favor, forcing you to look at him. the grin that forms on his face as he sees your flushed cheeks and the heat in your eyes is downright diabolical. because bestfriend!gojo knows he's the only one who can take care of you like this. you might call someone else your boyfriend, might sometimes hold someone else’s hand, but they’ll never satisfy you like satoru does.
he pushes and pulls you over his lap. again and again and again until your spine bends and your eyes squeeze shut. he knows you so well that he knows you’ll cum just like this, pussy contracting around absolutely nothing, greedily wanting more, wanting to be filled up good.
“toru—!”
“you got it,” he says through roguish laughter. “s’right there, isnt it? can feel how wet you are. go on an’ take it, baby.”
he shifts your hips faster, pushes up into you harder. your breath stops, and then—
“there you go. just like that. so fuckin’ pretty when you cum. such a shame he’ll never see it. s’all for me.”
bestfriend!gojo who isn’t even surprised that you’re grinding against him again just seconds after you come down from the short-lived high. you’re whimpering, repeating his name over and over again as if you’ve forgotten all other words. but it’s okay, he doesn’t mind, because bestfriend!gojo knows you like the back of his hand!!! and he’s gonna give you just what you need. 
he works quickly, tugging your leggings down your thighs just until they’re wrapped around your knees. he finds no panties underneath and takes a selfish moment to admire just how pretty your pussy is, rosy and puffy and so wet that it makes his mouth water. gojo thinks he could spend hours with his head between your legs without ever coming up for air, tenderly licking at your clit till you cry. but no, this isn’t about him. it’s about you, and your need for his big, fat cock.
the tip is red and swollen when he pulls it out of his slacks. and before he can do much else, you’re greedily sliding your pussy against him again, coating him in your slick. “this what you want?” 
“yes, please, satoru, please.”
“how do you want it? fast? slow?”
“want it deep.”
bestfriend!gojo who wraps an arm around your waist and lifts you up just enough so he can position himself right at your opening, leaky and dripping all over him. “alright, sweetheart. always gonna give you everything you want.” 
and then he’s pushing into you and your pussy squeezes him so fucking tight pleasure shoots through him before he even begins to move. you sit on his cock with all your weight and he swears he can feel your insides move to make room for him—he’s just so big. 
when he’s fully seated inside, you let out a sigh of relief and gojo thinks nothing has brought him more joy than seeing that happy, satisfied little smile tug at the corners of your lips.
he splays his fingers wide over the globes of your ass, squeezing hard when you begin to roll your hips. your walls twitch around him, caressing every vein and sensitive spot of his thick cock. you don’t even lift up off of him, so desperate to have him buried as deep inside of you for as long as possible that you’re only grinding against him, his tip brushing up against your cervix just enough to have you moaning.
even though he’s inside you, bestfriend!gojo still asks, “is it okay if i kiss you?”
there’s no hesitance. you press your lips to his and when they part on a gasp as he thrusts his cock up into you, he slides his tongue into your mouth. you taste like sugar and honey and you—his favorite flavor. he fucks you hard and sucks your tongue and bites your bottom lip, spit-covered mouths breathing out obscenities.
you’re clawing at his back, pussy squelching with each deep, meaningful thrust he gifts to you. he’s not going to last long and he knows it, but he always puts you first. so between each sloppy kiss he’s muttering absolute filth. “mmm, yeah. came to the right place, didn’t you, baby? you know who’s gonna take good care of you. pussy’s so tight. such a greedy thing. gonna give you everything he can’t. can you feel how hard you make me? feels better with a big cock all up in your guts, doesn’t it? puts your pretty little mind right at ease.”
when your moans turn into pants he knows you’re close. he lets the leash he’s tied around his self control go slack, because he wants to fall off the edge with you. “it’s so big,” you cry. “gonna make me cum—!”
he keeps his pace steady, fucking up into you, thick cock spitting you apart. “you love this dick, huh, baby? tell me you love it.”
“love it, toru, love—hmph—love you!”
“fuck yeah you do,” he says with a grin. it only takes one, two, three more deep thrusts before he feels your walls flutter around him. you moan his name and it sends him over the edge. gojo kisses you hard as he paints your insides with sticky ropes of cum, filling you so full it spills out, sliding down to the base of his cock and staining his slacks.
there’s so much, so much, but he fucks you through it despite the overstimulation, arms wrapped tight around your waist, eliminating any space that remains between the two of you. doesn’t stop until your moans quiet and your thighs stop trembling around him.
your chest heaves with each shaking breath, but you stay right in his lap. when you lay your head on his chest, gojo settles into the sheets, trying not to shift you too much. he thinks you’re so cute like this, all fucked out and sleepy. 
bestfriend!gojo says, “you should break up with your boyfriend,” with his hand on your ass and is able to fall asleep contently, still buried deep inside your sweet pussy.
because you kiss his jaw and mumble sleepily, “m’kay, i will.”
323 notes · View notes
yurinaa-world · 2 days ago
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"𝓘𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓯𝓪𝓬𝓮?"
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💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Phainon & Axana x Gender-Neutral reader
💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: catching him off guard
💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff & Spelling Mistakes
💫𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈: Please, Please send me requests for Amphoreus men or something!
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💫𝒫𝒽𝒶𝒾𝓃𝑜𝓃 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑜 𝑜𝒻 𝒜𝓂𝓅𝒽𝑜𝓇𝑒𝓊𝓈"
“Phainon, is there something on my face?” you ask, your voice dripping with fake innocence in your tone.
You could just ask like a normal person. Ask him for a kiss like how a normal person would do it, but you don’t want to, you want to catch your hero off guard for the first time even if it consists of you playing dirty against him.
You see the joy on his face—not sure why, he gets happy at anything if it’s about you.
His lips twitch, and then he breaks into that boyish grin that makes your chest tighten. “No,” he says, his voice warm. “Look closer.” like a naive child listening to an adult who is messing with them.
“Hmm,” he hums, tilting his head slightly. “I don’t see anything. Maybe it’s… here?” He reaches up, his fingers brushing lightly against your eyelash before you snatch his breath away with a kiss on the lips 
Phainon freezes for a split second, his hand still hovering near your face, his fingers barely grazing your skin. His eyes widen in surprise, and you can feel the way his breath stutters against your lips. Before you move back with a grin on your lips—as if you had stolen something and were utterly proud of it.
He was truly caught off guard!
“You—” he starts, his voice rough and unsteady, but he doesn’t finish the sentence. Instead, he shakes his head, a slow, disbelieving smile spreading across his face. “You really caught me off guard! I didn’t even see it coming!” he praised and raved 
Phainon’s voice is filled with a mix of awe and amusement, his grin widening as he looks at you like you’ve just performed some kind of miracle. His hand drops from where it had been hovering near your face and goes to wrap around your waist instead.
“But if this is what happens when you catch me off guard, I wonder what kind of cute face you make when you're caught off guard.”
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💫𝒜𝓃𝒶𝓍𝒶 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒸𝒽𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝒜𝓂𝓅𝒽𝑜𝓇𝑒𝓊𝓈"
“Axana! Stay still there’s something on your face.”
Honestly, if it were anyone else calling him by that name, he would’ve given them a look that would genuinely kill them—since it’s you, he gives you special treatment even though you do it on purpose to get on his nerves for the fun of it. He even lets you do your stupid pranks, like right now.
He just sighs hearing your words and just lets you do as you wish. Closing the distance between you two as you gently touch the skin beneath his eye as if you were searching for a stray eyelash or crumb 
“Found it,” you say triumphantly, though there’s nothing actually there, before shamefully leaning in to take in his lips and shift your hand so it’s at the back of his head—pushing him in further before reciprocating himself.
When you pulled back, a large grin played on your face, which quickly whipped off your face when he dragged you down by your waist before squishing your cheeks with his hand. “Your pranks aren’t amusing in the slightest.”
“Really?..you looked like you were enjoying it.”
Axana’s eyes narrow at your words, but there’s a flicker of something in his gaze—amusement, maybe, or perhaps even a hint of embarrassment. He releases your cheeks, though his hand remains on your waist, holding you firmly in place. “Enjoying it?” he repeats, a scoff leaving his lips.
“You’ve got a vivid imagination, I’ll give you that.”
You can’t help but laugh at his response, the sound light and teasing as you lean back slightly, though his grip on your waist keeps you from going far. “Vivid imagination, huh? Is that what we’re calling it now?”
Axana’s expression softens slightly at your teasing, though he still tries to maintain his usual stoic demeanour. His hand on your face loosens. “You’re impossible.” 
“Thank you, that’s my best feature.”
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if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!
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daylighted · 2 days ago
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Do u think baby would mention the things she’s seen dean do in the car? I feel like that would be the most funny and awkward (on deans part) conversation
omfg yes 😭😭 yes she would bring it up bc she has no semblance of shame and yes it would be just as awkward as u are imagining. something like ...
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"dean?"
that innocent voice never meant anything good, dean had come to realize, so it's with great reluctance that he turns to face you, that typical brace-for-impact wince on his face.
"how come when sam drives you're not back here with me?"
literally, you could not have caught him further off guard, because what kind of question is that? your questions tended to have a million hidden meanings and things he was just supposed to innately know, and so he smiles a little. "word that better for me, will ya?"
common occurrence. some of your questions became a tad more intelligible with the request, sometimes they only ended up confusing the both of you more.
expectedly, your face contorts into wild irritation. it's amazing how much attitude one person could have within them, especially one that did not even know that you were acting bratty. "you like girls in the backseat."
dean blanches. "what?"
your face is more furious now, somehow. at this point, though, he really is avoiding the question at hand, so at least your irritability is justified. "i am a girl. and you always used to have girls in the backseat, laying on them."
laying on them. yeah.
"naked."
there it was.
sam glances up from behind the laptop screen with a grimace. he meets dean's eyes and shakes his head, grabbing the convenient investment he'd made and plugging the earbuds into his ears. great. so this was all on dean.
you are still going though, taking his silence for the avoidance that it was. "i can get naked! i do not care. if you only sit with the naked girls, fine. i will—"
"you are so damn cute, baby," dean says, muffled by the hand he scrubs over his face, "i can't stand it."
"then sit it," you shoot back at him, lips twisted into a fiery pout. "every other girl in the universe has had you sitting back here with them. but you won't sit next to me."
dean frowns. every other girl in the universe is a bit of an exaggeration, but, sure. he'll take the bait. "it's not been that many."
"it's so been that many. i remember."
your memory was about as selective as a toddler's hearing, so that evidence was out the window.
dean crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back in the wooden dining chair he sat in, rocking on its back legs. "and what do you wanna do with me in the backseat, huh?"
"sit!" borderline shouted, like it was the easiest answer in the universe and not something that was practically life or death for dean. "i want to sit next to you. i hate leaning forward in the middle to talk to you guys. that is not safe."
now you were schooling him on road safety.
it's the genuine hurt on your face that makes him take pause. sometimes, these conversations were funny, or amusing, or just as uncomfortable as this one was. sometimes, though, dean didn't take in the account that every word out of your mouth was genuine. no corners cut, no beating around the bush.
"every other girl in the universe has gotten to sit next to you," you repeat, slower this time, your voice so much smaller. god, you really were so damn cute; he couldn't stand it or sit it. "and they were so happy about it. they were saying yes so many times. i wanna say yes."
his lips thin to try and repress the smile. it was not funny. this was serious. you felt like an enigma (and you were, but that certainly wasn't going to make you feel any better right now. the least dean could do was pull his head out of the gutter and grant you the reassurances you needed.
"how about, next car ride, i sit back there with you?" dean asks, raising his eyebrows to punctuate the question. "or we kick sam to the backseat and you sit up there with me? then you can talk my ear off."
you stare at him for a long while, seeming to contemplate it. without answering, you reach over to tap sam on the shoulder, prompting him to tug an earbud loose. "dean wants to kick you to the backseat so i can sit up front this time."
sam's mouth opens and closes a couple of times, completely lost. "...okay?" he looks over at dean with that same grimaced wince from earlier.
dean shrugs. "you were incapable of defending yourself. shut yourself out of the world, lose your freedom of choice in seats."
"new car rule?" sam's cheeks dimple with the force of his thin smile. "it was fine when you made up all those rules when we were kids. not fun anymore."
another shrug. "baby's choice."
he was right, though. dean hadn't implemented car rules since he'd inherited (hijacked, really, but semantics) baby from his dad's clutches, years ago. the fact that your arrival was causing dean to make up new things to make you happy and comfortable was...
not something he wanted to think about, thanks.
expectedly, that happiness radiates off of you like its own heat source, warm and inviting. your hands clap together quickly, grin wide enough to blind a car driving by the motel.
"yes, yes, yes!" you say, all of that genuine joy on your face somehow keeping dean's head out of the gutter, too blinded by it to care about any sort of innuendo. "see? i already sound like all the other girls in the world."
sam closes his eyes, breathing a sigh out of his nose. "alright. i'm done here." the earbud goes right back in, leaving dean and you staring across the table at each other.
fuck. he was screwed.
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i-dared-myself · 2 days ago
Text
Forced to Main
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Stray Kids x reader
Requested by anonymous: Hey I’ve been reading your Skz x 9th member fics And wanted to request one where reader used to be the main vocal but got tons of hate during idk maybe maxident era and after gets scared to sing any of her old lines so she like becomes a rapper and doesn’t get much lines anymore
“Are you sure you don’t want to take these lines?” Chan asks, looking up from his laptop. He’s wearing his usual soft smile, dimples forming at the corners.
“I’m sure.” You scroll through your feed, liking a post. “Rapping is fine.”
After the hateful comments you received during the MAXIDENT era, you took a backseat. You had cried for hours over the harsh words the media said about you. Now you refuse to do anything except rap, not wanting to be exposed to the cruel spotlight.
“It’s just…” Chan shifts and types something in, keys clacking. “We don’t have a lot of rapping lines. And they get taken by the others, so you don’t get a lot of lines.”
“I’m okay with it.” You stand up, slipping your phone in your pocket. “Are we done now?”
Chan sighs and shrugs. “I guess so. I’ll send you the lines so that you can prep for recording.”
“Sounds great.” You turn your back to him and go out the door, not catching the expression on his face. 
You wander down to the dance studio, where Hyunjin and Minho are working on a new dance. You watch them from the doorway, a small smile on your lips.
Hyunjin glanced up, rubbing at his buzzed hair. “Oh, what are you doing here?”
“I have nothing else to do.” You wander inside, noticing the glance they share with each other. “What? What’s that look for?”
Minho rolls out his shoulders, poking his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “The others are working on voices right now. Why don’t you join them?”
“I don’t have my lines yet.” You shake your head. “Chan’s figuring something out for my rap verse.”
Hyunjin brightens. “Oh! What if you take some of the main vocals! Remember you used to do that?”
You chew the inside of your cheek. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” Minho questions. He reaches for his water bottle and uncaps the top. “You used to do it, and you’re good at it.”
“No, I’m not good,” you firmly say. “And I’m just going to rap.”
Hyunjin frowns, but doesn’t push the matter further. He switches topics, eyes flicking to Minho before back to you. “Did you want to help us with this dance then?”
Minho swallows his sip of water before placing the bottle down. “There’s a lift we need to work on.”
“A lift?” you repeat. “Uh, I guess. Who am I lifting?”
Hyunjin scoffs. “Oh, please. I’m buffer than you.”
You narrow your eyes. “Let’s arm wrestle. Loser gets lifted.”
Minho chuckles darkly, almost menacingly. “I want to see this.”
There’s a table set up in the corner, so the three of you gather around it. You and Hyunjin face off, with Minho being the referee. You struggle for a minute before he slams your arm down.
You flex your wrist, feeling spasms of your old wrist injury. “Okay, fine. Lift me.”
Minho and Hyunjin get into position, holding their hands out for you to step on. You stabilize yourself with your hands on their shoulders, wobbling slightly as they push you upwards.
“Okay,” Minho says, “now carefully-“
You fall.
Your injured wrist catches the most of your weight with a sickening crunch.
Hyunjin gags, covering his eyes. “That’s- Oh my gosh!”
Your eyes water at the pain, clutching it with your other hand. “I- It really hurts.”
Minho kneels next to you, eyebrows pinched with concern. “Yeah… Hyunjin, go get Chan.”
“It hurts.” You whimper as Minho gently touches your wrist. He retracts his hand and awkwardly pats his back.
“This is entirely your fault,” he tells you, much to your outrage.
“What?” you exclaim, pain momentarily forgotten. “How the hell is this my fault?”
“You lost to Hyunjin.” Minho points his chin to the table where the arm wrestling had occurred. “If you had won, this wouldn’t have happened.”
Chan hurries in with wide eyes, Hyunjin and a first aid attendant behind him. He motions to you and the first aid attendant bustles over to you. Your wrist is examined and you’re told to go to the hospital.
“I’ll drive you,” Chan says, patting himself down. He locates his phone (in his pocket as usual) and messages the rest of the group. “Minho, Hyunjin, go home and prepare dinner,” Chan orders. “We’ll get there as soon as we can.”
Hyunjin nods. “Will do. Uh, does preparing dinner mean getting food delivered?”
Chan waves a hand at them, shooing you out the door. “Sure. Whatever.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You broke your wrist, and are in a cast. It won’t be off in time for an upcoming performance, which means you can’t do your choreography. Yours includes a lot of hand movements, and you can’t exactly do that now.
Felix perks up on the couch. “What about if she takes the main vocals? It doesn’t have any hand motions.”
“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Jisung says with a mouthful of dinner, which was not homemade. “Seungmin is good at rapping and could take over.”
Seungmin shrugs. “I’d be okay with it.”
Everyone faces you, and your stomach sinks. This is it. What you had been dreading.
“I’m not sure,” you warily say. “I’m not the best at it.”
“What are you talking about?” Changbin lifts the corner of his lip. “You’re great. I don’t know why you took rapping when you’re amazing at main vocal.”
You shift in your seat, glaring at your cast. Everyone had tried to sign it and you had barely kept them away.
“Give it a try?” Jeongin pleads. He blinks slowly, making sure to be as adorable as possible. “Pretty please?”
Damn him and his cuteness.
“Fine,” you relent, sighing heavily. You scowl at him and he just smiles pleasantly. “I’ll do it.”
Chan stands up, placing his hands on his hips. “Great. Now that it’s settled, we’ll practise this new arrangement tomorrow. I want everyone up at seven, and in the van by eight.”
You get to your feet, wanting to go hide in your room. Felix is watching you with a knowing look that makes you want to bury your face in a pillow so he can’t force the truth out of you.
“Wait,” Felix says before you can escape. “Is there a reason you think you’re not good enough for main vocals?”
You duck your head, avoiding eye contact. “No.”
“That wasn’t very convincing,” Seungmin remarks. “You suck at lying.”
You whip your head up to glower at him. “If my arm wasn’t broken I’d-“
“You’d what?” Seungmin taunts. He snickers to himself. “You’re too scared to sing any of your old lines.”
Your expression crumbles, and everyone sucks in a breath. You sink back onto the couch as tears bubble into the corners of your eyes.
“Too far,” Jeongin murmurs to Seungmin.
Seungmin lifts his chin. “I’m not wrong. Or are you going to lie again?”
“You’re not wrong,” you admit bitterly. “I’m scared.”
Hyunjin scoots closer to you on the couch. “We’re talking about the assholes that said you couldn’t hit the high notes, right?”
You sniffle and wipe at your face. “Yeah.”
“Well have they ever hit the high notes?” Jisung raises an eyebrow. “No. Their opinions aren’t worth shit.”
Chan smiles softly at you, handing you a box of tissues. “That’s right. Although I would’ve said it in nicer words.” He shoots Jisung and Hyunjin pointed looks. “The only opinion that matters is yours.”
“And mine,” Seungmin adds. “And I think you’re fantastic.”
Changbin holds out his arms. “Hug?”
You nod and let him envelop you in a warm embrace. Your eyes droop from the stress of everything, and he notices.
“Bedtime?” Changbin suggests. 
You peel away. “Yeah, I’ll go off to bed now. Goodnight, everyone.”
“Sorry about your broken wrist,” Minho calls after you as you go up the stairs. “It’s Hyunjin’s fault.”
You hear Hyunjin’s muffled cries of protest as the others start scolding him for dropping you. You smile, ready to sing your old lines again.
Taglist:
@velvetmoonlght @jinnie-ret @hansmic @imeverycliche @iwuberic
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revelboo · 2 days ago
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Last Night the bumblebee x reader fic is so yummy I need more of it(you will be seeing more of me now so here is my emoji combo)-👑🐝
Bee is a sweety
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Last Night Pt 9
Bumblebee x Reader
• Servos brushing your leg, you watch him cringe. Making you more determined to find out what fragging is. Especially with the way those other two bots had frowned. Is it scandalous? There’s not a ton of entertainment to be had in the Ark, and a bit of scandalous gossip? You’re all for it. “Come on. You have to tell me, because I’m not letting it go,” you say with a grin and he loudly vents at you. “What’s fragging?”
• “Not so loud,” he groans as bots turn to look at him. Of course, you’re not letting it go. And what are you going to think of him if he admits some Cybertronians are interfacing with humans? You’re just now comfortable around him, no longer flinching when he handles or picks you up. “Some Cybertronians- Decepticons, are doing stuff with humans they’ve captured.” Dancing around actually saying it, because he’s uncomfortable with the idea. Humans are just so delicate, fragile.
• “Torture?” You ask, drawing your legs up as you perch on his shoulder. Laying a palm on him, you shiver. Can’t really see his face where you are against the side of his head, but he sounds unhappy. Miserable. “They’re killing them aren’t they?” How many people have they taken? Stomach lurching, you lean against his helm. Those poor people. Wants to ask if he can’t do anything to save them. To free them. But that can’t be right. That bot had been whispering about you and Bee fragging. So not killing. What else could it be, though to make him this uncomfortable?
• Door wings flicking, he groans. “No, I mean, I don’t think so?” Killing humans is definitely worse than fragging them, but he still vents tiredly. Tempted to let you believe that’s what’s happening rather than have to explain this to you. You’re finally starting to trust him and it took forever. Doesn’t want to scare you off. “Fragging isn’t killing.” Say it. Just say it. “It means interfacing.”
• “Okay. And that means?” You ask. Because Bee is getting more and more uncomfortable by the second. Interfacing? You’re coming up with nothing trying to guess what he means by that. His little door wings lift slightly as he groans. ‘It means,’ he mumbles, sounding almost pained. ‘Well, it means, mating. Does that word translate?’ Choking, you’re glad he can’t see you right now. Your brain just refusing to try to figure out the logistics of how giant, alien robots and much smaller humans can even do that. And survive. Do they? Horrified, you shut your mouth and lean back further out of sight. “Okay,” you manage weakly, remembering that other mech laughing and speculating on if you and Bee were fragging. Oh. Don’t ask. Just let it go and pretend this conversation never happened. “How does that work exactly?” You ask almost against your will.
Previous
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lsunstreakerl · 2 days ago
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part six of the maxiel corporate au! 2.1k words, alternating max POV and daniel POV.
there's actually not any explicit content here- it's a little bit more plot focused.
Max needs to get out of bed. He needs to get up, and shower, and eat something- but he's been thinking that on a loop for a few hours now, and still hasn't done anything.
He's not sure why he feels so off, but it's made him burrow further into the bed, wrapping his arms around one of his pillows, holding it to his chest.
He feels-
He's not sure. He's sore, and he's a little bit sad for no discernible reason. Last night had been good, even if Max doesn't distinctly remember the later part of the night- doesn't remember getting home, just knows he'd woken up with a sore ass and legs, work clothes dropped on the floor, wearing unfamiliar sweatpants.
He remembers the car ride, going into Daniel's condo- remembers his legs being held apart, Daniel's fingers inside of him- but after he'd started actually getting fucked is where things get hazy.
Waking up to a text from Scarlett letting him know he's got the day off had been confusing, and then mortifying, but Max is glad for it now- he doesn't think he'd do very good work today, not with the way he's feeling.
Normally he's one of the first ones to leave from his complex's floor. He knows that because their walls are paper thin, and they can all hear each other when someone drops something and swears. There's four of them on Max's floor- him and Rico have been here the longest, neighbors since their first year of uni. Martin moved in a few months after Max and Rico, and Isack is the newest- the baby of the floor, moved in last year as he started uni.
Max normally leaves first. Max also never misses work. He knows it, and he knows they know it too, which is why he's not terribly surprised when there's a knock on his door.
He doesn't want to get up and open it.
There's a few rattles of the handle, and then the somewhat familiar metallic noise of Rico just using his own key.
They'd figured out they had the same lock a few months into being neighbors after a drunken mishap, and now they're friends, so there's been no reason to change that.
Max lifts his head as he hears the front door open and shut. His flat isn't huge- a studio- so it only takes a moment for Rico to poke his head around the corner.
He always looks like a behemoth next to Max's things, but he's reassuring at the moment, green eyes watching Max with concern.
"Hey."
Max presses his lips together, dropping his head back onto the pillow.
"Hi."
Rico toes his shoes off as he makes his way over, snagging the Playstation controllers, and then he's poking at Max's side until he rolls, making space on the bed for Rico to crawl in next to him.
He settles, and then he's wrapping an arm around Max, pulling him into his side.
"FIFA?"
This is why Max and Rico are friends.
"FIFA."
------
Daniel is chewing on the end of his pencil when Blake walks in. He's carrying a chair, which means he's got something Daniel actually needs to pay attention to.
"Sir Friend, how can I assist you?"
Blake sets the chair down heavy on the floor, dropping into it across from Daniel.
"I think Netco is lying about their earnings somewhere- but I've had me and my people on it all damn day and we can't figure out where."
That's... not the kind of thing Daniel likes to hear.
"Well shit. What do you need from me?"
Blake's spinning his own pencil between his fingers, letting it drag over his knuckles.
"You mean you can't just magically figure it out? What are CEO's even for?"
Daniel laughs, leaning back in his chair.
"I mean, I could ask them point blank if they're lying, but..."
Blake snorts.
"I get the impression they wouldn't come clean now."
Daniel frowns. He's trying to think, looking back on his most recent meetings. Everyone's been friendly, but no one's been suspicious.
Oh, on that note-
"Damn, I guess that means that discrepancy didn't go anywhere then."
Blake pauses, pencil stilling.
"What discrepancy."
"Uh, the one Max mentioned? A couple days ago."
Blake makes a face.
"And it was up here, so obviously you didn't fucking ask him about it- Daniel, you can be infuriating sometimes. No, I didn't even know there was a discrepancy- that could be genuinely useful, you horny cunt."
Daniel holds his hands up in mock surrender.
"I assumed you guys were all on the same page!"
Blake pinches the bridge of his nose, breathes out a long sigh.
"Clearly not. Can you call him in?"
"Blake, mate, I gave him the day off. Be pretty shit of me to call him in."
Blake narrows his eyes.
"Be even shitter to get stuck in a bad deal. Think with your brain and not your dick, please."
Daniel makes a face, but he's clicking around, getting into Max's file to find his cell number.
He makes sure to punch it in correctly, and it rings for a moment. It's the late afternoon by now- Max should be fine.
"Max Verstappen's phone, can I take a message?"
Daniel's brain freezes. It's a male voice, deep and accented.
Thankfully, he's been doing this for so many years now that despite the fact that his brain is stalling, his mouth still works.
"This is Daniel Ricciardo- who am I speaking with?"
"Rico Verhoeven."
Daniel scrawls the name down absentmindedly.
"Hello Rico. Is Max available? It's a bit urgent."
"He can be- one moment."
Daniel catches the sound of some shuffling, and then for a moment he wonders if he's having a stroke- but it's just the faint murmurs of another language. He faintly hears Max on the end, a mumbled 'Rico?' That sounds soft and sleepy.
Daniel's not going to think about it.
There's another moment of shuffling, and then the phone is picked up again.
"This is Max speaking."
He still sounds drowsy, but it's definitely Max this time.
"Hey Max, it's Daniel. What'd you end up doing with that report the other day, with the merger discrepancy you mentioned?"
Max makes a sleepy hum.
"The copy stayed with you, sir. But I have a backup on my desktop I could reprint, if you need it."
"That would be great- do you need me to call you a car?"
"Uh- one second sir."
More soft murmurs- it's the other language again.
"I have a ride. I will be there in twenty minutes."
Daniel's grip on his pencil tightens for a moment.
"Sounds great. Tell Rico I said thanks- and he's more than welcome to come in and say hi."
Blake is giving him a very clear "what the fuck, Daniel" face, but he chooses to ignore it.
"Oh, uh- thank you sir. I will let him know you offered."
"See you in a few, Maxy."
Daniel hangs up, and Blake is arching an eyebrow at him.
"What the fuck, Daniel?"
------
It only takes Rico and Max fifteen minutes to arrive- Daniel and Blake are up on the fourth floor again, near the walkway. It has a good vantage point to the entryway on the ground level.
Daniel is lazily watching the door, but it's Blake that spots them first- chokes on a half laugh and then pats Daniel's shoulder consolingly.
"There's your fucking competition mate, jesus."
Daniel's eyes dart to the door, and then widen comically. There is a giant standing next to Max.
A very built giant. Max is tiny next to him- and he's chatting enthusiastically about something, hands having half the conversation for him.
Rico is listening patiently as they start taking the stairs, content to let Max talk regarding whatever it is he's on about.
Daniel doesn't get intimidated easily- it's something you get over quick, as a CEO- but Rico...
The man looks like he can fight. Max hadn't mentioned any kind of boyfriend- and he'd both claimed to be and behaved like a virgin last night- but Daniel isn't interested in "accidentally" running into Rico in an alleyway.
Max is walking today far better than Daniel had expected him to, though he's not in business casual- just jeans and a quarter zip. He spots Blake and waves, and then when he sees Daniel his cheeks heat up, head ducking slightly.
Blake elbows him gently when they both straighten up as Max and Rico get closer.
"Nice knowing ya, Dan."
"Shut up."
Max crosses the walkway, and Rico seems even bigger in person, towers head and shoulders above the others.
Blake, brave man, steps forward first.
"Max, thank you so much for coming in on your day off- I appreciate it."
Max flashes him a smile, stepping around him to log onto the monitor.
"It is no problem."
Blake extends his hand to Rico.
"You must be Rico- I'm Blake Friend, CFO. This is Daniel Ricciardo, CEO."
Rico shakes his hand, and then turns to take Daniel's, and there's a brief moment where he wonders if his life is about to flash in front of his eyes.
Rico's gaze lingers on him for a moment. He has intense green eyes, and Daniel gets the distinct feeling that he isn't very impressed.
"I appreciate you offering to bring to Max in- that was kind of you."
Rico sets his hands in his pockets.
"It is of course not a problem, to help Max."
Max makes a cooing noise from behind the computer, shooting a grin at Rico. It's startlingly bright, more real than anything Daniel has seen from him before- it scrunches his eyes up.
"Aw, Rico- don't be sappy."
Rico just smiles back at him.
There's the sound of the printer starting up, and Max logs out, looking over at Daniel and Blake.
"I have it set to reprint the report and the more detailed logs for the incidents I was looking at, if you wanted those also."
Daniel didn't even know there were detailed logs.
"Thank you, Max. We appreciate that. Enjoy the rest of your day off, yeah?"
Max nods- still can't quite meet his eyes, and Daniel would normally find that cute- and it is- but Rico's presence makes him hesitate to tease.
"It was no problem, sir."
Blake exchanges a few more pleasantries with them both as Daniel gathers the reports off of the printer, and then the two of them are leaving.
Blake turns back to Daniel.
"That man is fucking terrifying, mate."
Daniel makes a face.
"Tell me about it."
------
Rico is nice enough to wait until they're back in the car before he opens his mouth.
"This is why are you sad."
Max busies himself organizing the spare change in the cup holders.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Rico makes a disbelieving noise.
"Really? You wouldn't get out of bed, couldn't walk straight until we did stretches, and now the man that you've been calling 'sir' over the phone- you can't even look him in the eyes."
Max crumples a stray straw wrapper into a small ball.
"Those things can be unrelated."
"But they aren't, are they? You got fucked by your boss."
Rico pauses.
"Your CEO."
"Okay, I know it sounds bad-"
"That's because it is, Max."
"-but it is not as terrible as it sounds. It was very good, actually."
Rico drums his fingers on the steering wheel.
"He thinks I'm your boyfriend, by the way."
Max squeaks.
"What?"
Rico is laughing, broad hand reaching over to tangle in Max's hair. It's nothing like when Daniel does it- Rico's hand is broad where Daniel's is narrow, fingers wide where Daniel's are thin.
"Yes, he definitely does. I answered your phone and drove you in- he absolutely thinks we are together."
Max makes a very obvious glance to Rico's lap.
"Mate, we could not be together. There is a variety of reasons, but especially that one."
It takes two seconds of silence before they're both giggling. Max has seen Rico's dick before- there was an unfortunate month where the pipes would randomly stop working, so they'd swapped showers a few times- and Max can now say, having had sex, that Rico is too fucking big.
"Have fun getting that cleared up."
Max winces. He doesn't want to think about it- he's perfectly content to make that a tomorrow problem.
Rico puts the car in park, but he turns to look at Max, rests a hand on his arm.
"If he does something, or you want out, or anything- just tell me, yes? We will figure it out."
Max reaches over the center console to hug him, arms wrapping around his sides. He's always felt protected with Rico- he can practically hide in his shadow.
He knows he can rely on Rico, but what he's got going on with Daniel- whatever it's called- isn't bad. Just new.
"Thank you."
Rico squeezes him tighter.
"Anytime."
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monstersflashlight · 3 days ago
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Patreon Commission for anon
Request: Could you do something about a reader who was cursed by a witch/wizard to not be able to feel any passion/pleasure until they touch their soulmate? Either the witch is their mate and didn't realize, or just like a random monster idk. Can be SFW or NSFW, up to you. Thank you!!
A/N: This was more painful than anticipated because I took it a step further, hope that’s okay, ended up very sweet. Enjoy the angst, I guess. :)
Touch repellent
Wizard x fem!reader || sfw, hurt/comfort, lots of banter
It takes you two years to realize there’s something wrong with you.
Every time you touch or are touched, your body reaction is utter disgust. At first you don’t sweat it, weird people made you react like that before… But then you try to kiss a girl and your whole body rejects the feeling, nausea filling your throat until you want to puke. You walk to your house completely confused, not knowing what is wrong with you.
You spend the next couple weeks testing your theory, and every time you touch somebody, the same happens. Disgust fills your body until you are almost shivering, your body reacting badly to every single touch. Even worse, if the intentions are romantic or sexual. Which sucks, because you want to kiss pretty ladies and boys.
So you do what you didn’t want to do. You go back home to look for help. To the place you remember being happy for the last time. To the place you felt like you were alive and touch still feel like a part of you. Where you could hug your mom and feel happy about it, where you could pat your friends in the back and feel the camaraderie… You needed to have that back. You don’t know what’s wrong with you, but you need it back, you want to feel normal, to be able to touch people and enjoy it again…
Even if he’s there.
He, as in, your wizard childhood friend who you haven’t seen since you left. He insisted on you cutting ties if you decided to leave, and you couldn’t do anything to argue with him. It hurt. It hurt more than anything to leave him behind, it hurt even worse than feeling awful every time someone touched you. Leaving him behind was like tearing a part of you, but he rejected you, and you couldn’t be there without feeling the pain every time you looked.
So you left.
And you hurt.
But now, back home and knocking on his door to seek answers to a question you didn’t know how to formulate, your whole body is shivering in anticipation. That never happened before. It’s like your soul is reaching out to touch him, to seek him. And the second he opens the door and lets you in, you feel calmer than you have felt in a very long, long time.
When he reaches out to shake your hand, as if you didn’t know everything about the other until you left, you don’t get the usual anguish or disgust. It feels different. Better. It feels like everything in the world is okay again just by that simple gesture.
And then it clicks.
All those years ago, when you left him. When you walked away after he asked you to stay and you knew you couldn’t because he didn’t love you like that. Because you knew your feelings were unrequited…
“It was you!” You scream, a threatening finger pointing in his direction, pushing his chest until he’s against the wall and you are fuming with pent up anger.
He has the audacity to act surprised, and that only makes you angrier. “What do you mean?” He tries to fake, not moving, his back against the wall as he looks down at you. You hate (lie) that he’s so tall, that he’s looking down on you even when you are furious with him.
“I haven’t been able to do anything, to feel anything… Every time I touched another being, I could only feel disgust… And now I touch you and it feels warm, and cozy, it feels like coming home…” Your words leave a bitter taste in your tongue, the realization of what happened settling uncomfortably inside your chest.
The asshole smirks. “It does?” You want to punch him in the face.
“You cursed me!” You accuse, the pain in your voice making his smirk deflate.
He looks at you with confusion and a hint of anger, but you don’t back down, fully aware that you are right, because your palm is against his chest, and you aren’t feeling disgust. It only feels warm and content. It only feels incredible and like anything you’ve ever felt before.
“I…” He hesitates. “I did,” he finally admits, looking ashamed for the first time since you entered. Your hand finds his neck, not pressing, not hurting, just resting there as a threat (but not really).
“Why would you do that? Why would you want me to feel disgust upon touching others?” You try not to sound pained by it, but it hurts, your eyes filled with tears. It hurts that not only he rejected you, but he hated you that much that he couldn’t even let you be happy with others.
“Because… Because I…” He stutters. “Because I loved you,” his voice sounds like a surrender, and your brain short-circuits.
You aren’t expecting his response and your hold on his neck releases a little. “What?” You aren’t sure if you feel more surprised or betrayed. He loved you?
He’s still struggling to talk, stuttering, but he explains: “I could sense that you were my mate, but you couldn’t... And you were so fixated in others, in going away from me, enjoying others… I just… I wanted you to suffer a tiny fraction of what I felt. So I cursed you.” He sounds completely defeated, and your soul hurts for him. Hurts for you. For the misunderstanding. For the way you two suffered because he was stupid (and okay, maybe you were, too).
“Why didn’t you just say something, you stupid shit?” You yell at him, your hand pressing down on his chest as the other curls around the side of his neck, almost a caress. “I thought you didn’t want me!” That part leaves you breathless, the anger slipping out of you and leaving your body trembling and defeated.
It’s his turn to look at you, perplexed. “What?”
“I loved you, too, you stupid maroon! I was so in love with you it hurt to be near you. But you never acted on it even though we were mates, that’s why I left!” You don’t want to scream, but the last part comes out a bit high pitched and painful. Like there’s spikes in your throat, and when you look up and meet his eyes, it only hurts worse.
“But you… You always talked about others and I…” His voice is barely a whisper, as if he never even thought of the possibility of you loving him back. Of you understanding what mates were… Stupid wizard.
You pinch his nipple through his shirt until he shuts up and lets out a yelp. “You were a stupid wizard who didn’t know how to read the room. I was trying to make you jealous, so you would act on it. And you didn’t, so I left,” you explain when he only stares at you, confusion clear in his features.
But when he processes your words, he only lets out a little: “Oh.”
And you have enough of his bullshit.
“Ugh you are so fucking stupid,” and that’s all you tell him before your hands are grabbing his long hair and pulling him to you, your mouths crashing as you devour his mouth as you have wanted for so long. “You are going to pay for every single touch I missed,” you tell him between kisses and bites.
He whines, whispering: “Yes, yes. Anything you want… mate.”
And then he kisses you again.
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sergeantbarnessdoll · 17 hours ago
Note
sorry for back-to-back requests. i very much like the way you write.
I was wondering if you could do a one-shot where y/n replaces peggy’s place in Steve’s story as Captain America, and he goes back for her in endgame. and perhaps she was pregnant at the end of the war. sorry for all this.
Well Deserved Family Life » Steve Rogers/Captain America
Pairings: Husband!Steve Rogers x Wife/Pregnant!Reader with Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier, Sam Wilson/Falcon, and Bruce Banner/Hulk
Summary: After Steve takes the infinity stones back where they belong, he goes back to you and gets that family life he deserves.
Warnings: Fluff, language, kissing, pet names
A/N: Thank you for the request @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers 🩵
A/N #2: Bold text is letter to Bucky.
Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.
Header made by @buck-star
GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.
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After the war with Thanos and Tony’s funeral, the infinity stones needed to be taken back where they originally were. Steve decided to do that. As Bruce was getting everything ready for Steve to return the stones, he stood next to Bucky.
“Do you miss her?” Bucky asks, referring to you.
“Yes.” Steve answers softly. “I remember the day you introduced me to her.” He smiles.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so speechless.” He chuckles.
Steve chuckles and smiles at the memory of the day he met you.
“It’s ready, Cap.” Bruce says.
Steve nods. Before getting on the platform, he gave Bucky a hug. Bucky knew what that hug meant. He didn’t need to be a mind reader to know.
“You’re going to go back to Y/N, aren’t you?” Bucky asks.
“I am.” Steve says.
Although, Bucky doesn’t want to live in a world where his best friend isn’t in it, he wants him to be happy.
“I’m gonna miss you.” Bucky whispers.
“I’m gonna miss you too.” Steve whispers back.
Steve sighs as he pulls away from the hug. He walked over to the platform, stopping just short of the steps to get on it. He turned around to look at his best friend.
“Don’t do anything stupid till I get back.” Steve says with a smile.
“How can I? You’re taking all of the stupid with you.” Bucky smiles back. “Give Y/N a hug for me.” He says.
“I will.” He says.
Steve gets on the platform. Bruce counted down before sending him to where the infinity stones needed to be returned to.
“Shouldn’t he be back by now?” Sam asks Bruce.
“He should be.” Bruce looks at the computer. “It looks like he went further than he should’ve.” He says.
“What year did he go to?” Bucky asks curiously.
“1949.” Bruce tells him.
Bucky nods and looks down.
“You ok, man?” Sam asks Bucky, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“I will be.” Bucky says softly.
1949
Steve had a smile on his face as he held you close to him. You two were swaying to music in the middle of the living room. You glanced up at your husband with a smile. Steve looks down at you and kisses you softly.
Steve found his way back to you. You and him bought a house, got married, and you two have a baby on the way. This is the happiness and the family life he has been putting off for years.
Your feet started to hurt from swaying so you sat down on the couch. Steve sat down next to you, wrapping one arm around you and put his free hand on your pregnant belly. You laid your head on his shoulder. The music continued to play.
“Are you going to miss being Captain America?” You asked.
“Yes, but I’m sure Sam will be just as good as I was.” Steve says.
Steve gave you a tight hug, making you smile.
“What’s that for?” You asked with a smile.
“That’s from Bucky.” He says.
“Bucky remembers me?” You asked.
“Of course he does. He was the one who introduced us.” He says with a smile.
You smiled at the memory. You were a nurse in the Army when Bucky introduced you to Steve. You were admiring how handsome Steve was -he still is- and Steve was completely speechless.
“I’m happy that he introduced us.” You say.
“Me too.” Steve smiles.
“I miss him.” You say softly, putting your hand on top of Steve’s.
“I do too.” He whispers, kissing the side of your head.
PRESENT DAY
Bucky looked out in the distance, furrowing his eyebrows when he seen someone sitting on a bench and looking out at the water. He immediately knew that person was Steve.
“Sam…” Bucky says.
Sam looks at Bucky and then looked over at the water, seeing Steve. He walked up next to Bucky.
“Go ahead.” He says.
Sam nods and walks over to Steve.
“You decided to go further back after returning the stones, huh?” Sam says, standing next to Steve.
“Yes.” Steve smiles.
Sam seen a wedding ring on Steve’s finger.
“Wanna tell me about her?” He asks.
“I’ll let Bucky tell you.” Steve smiles.
Steve reaches down to unzip the bag his shield is in. He took it out of the bag and handed it to Sam.
“Are you sure?” Sam asks softly.
Steve nods. Sam took it from him and held it up.
“How’s it feel?” Steve asks.
“Like it belongs to someone else.” Sam says, looking at the shield.
Steve reached in his pocket and pulled out an envelope, handing it to Sam.
“Give this to Bucky for me please.” Steve says softly.
“Of course, man.” Sam says softly.
Steve and Sam gave each other a smile before he walked back to Bucky.
“He gave you the shield?” Bucky asks.
“Yes. He also told me to give this to you.” Sam says, handing him the envelope.
Bucky took his hands out of his pockets and took the envelope from Sam. He opened it to see a hand written letter from Steve, along with a family picture of you, Steve, and yours and his daughter Sarah.
Dear Bucky,
As you know, I went back to be with Y/N. I hope you can be happy with the decision I made. Thank you for introducing me to Y/N when we were in the Army. The little girl in the picture is mine and Y/N’s daughter Sarah Jamie Rogers. We gave her the middle name of the man who introduced her parents. I love you, man. I’m going to miss you.
Sincerely, Steve
Bucky teared up while reading the letter. He then looked at the picture, smiling when he seen how happy Steve is now and when he seen you and Sarah in the picture. He’s happy that his best friend got the well deserved family life he’s been looking for all these years.
“Who are those people with Steve in the picture?” Sam asks.
“His wife Y/N and their daughter Sarah Jamie Rogers.” Bucky says.
Sam smiles, happy that Steve got his happy ending.
“Their daughter looks just like him.” Sam says with a smile.
“She does.” Bucky smiles.
1949
“Did you feel that?” You asked when the baby kicked.
“Yes!” Steve says happily.
You looked at your husband with a smile on your face. You leaned up kissing him sweetly.
“I can’t wait for this baby to be born.” He says softly.
“Me too.” You smiled. “I love you, honey.” You murmured, pecking his lips.
“I love you too, sweetheart.” He almost whispers.
Steve got the well deserved family he’s been wanting for years. He couldn’t be any more happier.
💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙
-Bucky’s Doll
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kickbackkanzaki · 3 days ago
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The Dungeon Master and Chess Queen
You're the new student and chess captain at Hawkins High. When Eddie Munson asks you for tutoring you're certain you have him handled but you may have underestimated his strategy.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Warnings: Smut (18+), drinking, oral (fem receiving), intercourse (p in v), swearing, possessive/toxic traits, rough sex.
"Is it just my imagination," one of your customers asked as you passed her a wrapped book. "Or do they seem to stop women from writing more than men?"
"It's not your imagination," Robin told her. "Men are terrified by women with original thought."
"Especially when they write better," Max added.
"Anyone who reads Margaret Atwood feels threatened," you pointed out as you slipped the money out of sight. "That woman can critique society better than any old Ivy League man while spinning an entertaining tale. The woman's powerful."
"I still want a copy of Ender's Game," your customer told you then began to leave.
It was lunchtime at Hawkins High and you were conducting trade while the cafeteria monitor kept an eye out for thrown food and fist fights.
"I'm waiting on my supplier I'll be in touch," you answered and someone else approached your table.
Someone who didn't read.
"Hey I heard you and Munson were getting it on in the back of your shitty Mustang after school yesterday," Georgia from the cheer team sneered when you noticed her.
You'd never done anything to antagonize Georgia but she figured you were easy pickings for a popular bully like her. A chess nerd with straight As dating the school freak - you didn't have a leg to stand on.
"That Mustang has done less miles than your pussy," you shot back. "The tyres aren't as bald either."
Robin and Max laughed into their lunch and you watched Georgia gawk with some satisfaction. You had learned young to always answer a taunt as it proved you weren't afraid of where it came from.
"You can't say that to me!" Georgia screeched and gained a few more onlookers from other tables.
"Go home and brush your teeth your breath smells of dick," you said now bored and a table of good looking boys erupted into laughter.
Georgia had neither the quick wit or intelligence to counter that so she fell back on a classic popular girl threat.
"My boyfriend is going to mess you up!"
"Your shitbag boyfriend is busy under the bleachers eating out Meredith from the soccer squad," you told her matter of factly and Georgia's eyes grew round with horror. "Come on, you didn't really think he was getting chem tutoring at lunch did you?"
Georgia called you a name you'd heard many times before then ran out the cafeteria as the boys hooted.
"Is that true?" Max asked feeling uncomfortable by the vivid depiction of sexual depravity.
"Apparently," you said with an indifferent shrug. "The soft cock was boasting about it to Eddie last week during a business deal."
"You upset the hierarchy when you burn the bullies like that," Robin said wisely as she ate her pretzels.
She loved the way you eviscerated low IQ miscreants but she did worry about possible reprisals. There was still most of a year to endure before the two of you were free of Hawkins High.
"A cheerleader uniform doesn't give you a bitch pass," you stated unconcerned. "If Georgia wants to discuss things further I'll have a go. Hierarchy be damned."
"Where did you learn to say all that stuff?" Max asked.
As much as Max liked her older friend she had to admit some of what you said was downright disgusting and doubted it came from the literature you read.
"I was at boarding school for ten years," you explained. "I know every derisive word for genitals, the A to Zs of STDs and all the things a creative girl can fashion into a phallus. I promise you, those pornos where the drifter arrives at a girl's school full of blushing virgins are total fiction."
"I'm glad we're co-ed," Robin said for the first time ever and balled up her empty pretzel bag.
"Me too. It's way easier to look smart with boys around," you agreed and made Max smile.
As if on cue your favourite boy suddenly appeared and sat down next to you.
"We got trouble baby," he said frantically taking your hands.
"Did you get busted?" you asked in a worried hush and shot the cafeteria monitor a cautious glance.
"Kinda," Eddie answered cryptically. "Wayne knows about us."
"As in your Uncle Wayne?" you asked allowing your voice to return to normal volume.
So long as neither of you were going to spend the night in lock up on distribution charges it was fine for your friends to hear Eddie's risible stories.
"Yeah. I don't know he found out! I was getting my sheets out the dryer and -"
"Oh."
All three females exclaimed at once in mutual understanding.
"Hang on what?" Eddie's panicked spiel derailed from confusion. "Why'd you all say 'Oh' like that?"
"That was the give away," Robin explained. "Boys don't launder their own sheets unless they have something to hide. They'll roll around in their crusty mess for months before their mothers wash them."
"It's different with girls?"
Eddie felt like he'd stumbled onto a gender based conspiracy and was getting schooled.
"Our monthly bloodbaths don't keep business hours," you said tastelessly. "Early morning linen washes aren't unusual for us."
That had never occurred to Eddie but he had to admit it made sense now why the puritan lady at the checkout had given him a filthy glare when he'd bought a new flat sheet and laundry detergent in the one transaction.
"Anyway what's the problem with your uncle knowing?" you asked as you finally got a chance to eat your sandwich. "I didn't get you pregnant did I?"
Your friends sniggered but Eddie let it slide. He knew they laughed amiably unlike the jocks who preyed on his club.
"He wants you to come around for dinner this week," Eddie grumbled and ran his hands through his tangled hair in frustration.
"Ok," you said after a bite of sandwich. "Tonight I'm watching a movie at Max's and tomorrow's chess club but I can come after tutoring Thursday? Or Friday? Whatever suits."
"Really? You'll come?" Eddie stopped tugging his hair and looked at you in disbelief.
He'd assumed this would upset you but you were completely unphased. With conventional couples meeting the parents was seen as a milestone, one that cemented your commitment and hinted at a possible combined future.
As you two were aberrant individuals Eddie had predicted you'd scatter at something proper like family dinner.
"Why not? I suppose it makes sense, we've been hanging out for a while now. My Dad knows about you," you said pragmatically as you finished the sandwich and broke your chocolate bar in half.
"How?" Eddie asked in alarm and halted his reach for the offered treat.
"I told him doofus," you said and laughed with your friends again.
"What did he say?"
"Not a lot," you replied with a shrug. "He made me a reading list of Romantic poets and now buys me condoms when he gets his script filled."
You then turned to your lunch mates and added, "If you ladies need any let me know, I now have enough rubbers to get me to menopause."
"Gross."
"I wouldn't want to slow you down."
You engaged both middle fingers so you could flip your friends off in unison then turned back to your boyfriend.
"Tell Wayne I'd be delighted," you said and kissed Eddie on the cheek. "Now return to your flock shepherd I have censored literature to sell."
That night Wayne called Eddie from work to check which night he had to swap shifts so he could cook for the two of you. Eddie told him Friday and when the night arrived he came outside to meet you at the Mustang.
Eddie looked you over appraisingly as you climbed out the driver's seat and wolf whistled. You'd worn one of your nicer dresses with a floral pattern and had gone easy on the eyeliner in case Wayne suspected you leaned into heavier pastimes.
"Someone's pretty," Eddie sang and took a tupperware from your hands.
"Hello shit-stirrer," you said affectionately with a smile and kissed him on the mouth.
You made it a good kiss because it was likely the only one you'd get tonight being on your best behaviour.
When you walked in the trailer you nearly commented on how tidy it was but stopped last minute. You didn't want to let slip just how often you hung out there.
All week Eddie has been telling you how much of a crusty old curmudgeon his uncle was but you actually found Wayne quite pleasant.
He shook your hand, complimented your dress and didn't use any of the condescending pet names blokes his age often gave young women.
You asked about his job, his football team and his car, three things that could get any straight white man talking.
Wayne thanked you for the cake and was only a little surprised to hear your dad had baked it. That scored points with you as he didn't use that detail to lead into the more interesting things he'd heard about your dad.
Wayne had prepared the only meal he knew how to cook - steak with a three vegetable salad.
You gave appropriate thanks and gratefully accepted the diet soda he bought especially for you even though it wasn't your preferred beverage.
Eddie sat next to you and brushed your thigh gently under the table, the first touch since you'd come inside.
Usually by now the two of you would be in a state of undress or cuddled up in Eddie's room decompressing after surviving another day of small town banality.
But tonight you were abiding by the rules of polite society so kept your hands to yourselves.
"Eddie tells me you like chess," Wayne began after you'd taken a few bites of dinner.
"Understatement," Eddie muttered and received a poke from you under the table.
"I do," you answered enthusiastically. "I brought my board in case you wanted to play."
"Eddie played for a while in elementary school but I've never gotten the hang of it" Wayne confessed and took a sip of beer. "Too many darn rules to remember."
"There's a lot to learn, you need patience."
This was generally what you said when people labelled chess as too difficult. It stopped them from thinking you were pretentious or the game elitist.
"So I take it your mother's passed on?"
The sudden intrusiveness of the question after such a casual one made both you and Eddie stop chewing.
Not one person had broached that subject since you'd moved to Hawkins. The classic nuclear family was dying out so people usually accepted your single parent situation as it was.
"She was alive the last anyone heard," was the politest way you could put it after mulling the question over for a minute.
Eddie shot Wayne a warning look and the subject changed.
"So was it your father who taught you chess?" Wayne wisely returned to a safe topic.
"No, we had a heap of board games in the rec room at school and I was curious about the chess sets," you told him conversationally. "I signed up for a weekly chess club to learn the rules and it grew from there."
People always assumed there was a mysterious, romantic history to your passion but it had honestly begun the same as any other hobby. You'd found something you liked and applied yourself to get better at it.
The rest of the meal went smoothly with casual conversation and Eddie stole the light a few times so you wouldn't feel hot under Wayne's scrutiny.
After dinner you served the Black Forrest Cake then Wayne left the two of you to play chess at the table while he caught the end of a match on TV.
You moved a knight into place and seeing his defeat Eddie let his head fall on the table theatrically.
"That is mate," you said and smiled at his pitiful wails of defeat.
"I thought I was doing well," Eddie whined.
"You were! You made me chase you for a while there," you gave some constructive feedback to comfort him and leant back in your chair.
Eddie hated to lose but he would have hated you throwing the game more. Maybe it was time for you to sit in on a campaign and see the Dungeon Master in his element since you'd spent over an hour thrashing him.
"Let's me express my inner torment with music," Eddie said standing up with a defeatist sigh. "My room awaits."
"Might want to think of heading home," Wayne chipped in from the couch and turned the TV down.
"It's Friday night," Eddie protested.
"Don't want your dad worrying," Wayne went on as if he hadn't heard his nephew. "You two can catch up tomorrow."
"You're probably right," you conceded way too easily and Eddie's suspicion was aroused. "Thank you for dinner Mr Munson I had a lovely time."
You exchanged a few more pleasantries and had Eddie walk you to the Mustang where you shared the plan. He watched you drive out the park then went inside where Wayne had returned to his viewing.
Eddie subtly swiped a beer from the fridge then said something about listening to music before closing his bedroom door. Beer can now in his vest he threw on an Iron Maiden tape and jumped out the window.
The evening was a little chill but he would warm up once he got to his destination and the beer was inside him.
Creeping past the trailers of Friday night homebodies like a Hawkins version of Boo Radley Eddie heard snippets of televisions, stereos and domestic arguments as he hiked up the hill behind the park to the old playground.
The Mustang's headlights flashed when he was close and he heard you close the driver's door. You retrieved the lantern you keep in the boot for night time breakdowns and switched it on giving Eddie a guide to you.
"Uggh! I feel so wholesome and middle class!" Eddie yelled and threw his arms around you.
"You did well," you laughed as he lifted and spun you around. "Keep this up and you can take me to the prom."
"Can we park at Lover's Lake after?" he asked after planting a kiss on your mouth.
"Before and after," you said temptingly and pulled the beer out his pocket.
"That's my bad girl!" he cried and slapped your arse as you walked to the picnic area together.
You sat yourself up on the table while Eddie took the bench, seating himself between your feet so he could rest his head on your lap.
"What the hell was this evening about?" Eddie moaned as you stroked his hair and took a swing of beer.
You passed him the can and explained everything in your most patient voice.
"Your sweet uncle, who loves you, was just making sure you hadn't been ensnared by a harpy with wide legs and deep claws. He was worried I might be setting my sights on trapping you in early fatherhood and criminal enterprise."
"He thinks I'm that stupid?" Eddie made an injured face after a swing of beer.
"He knows you're young," you assured him. "Let the old man fuss, it means he cares."
"Well if it matters to you I think you passed darlin'," Eddie decided you were right and took another mouthful of beer.
"It'll make things easier going forward," you conceded.
Ever the gentleman Eddie let you finish the beer and returned his head to you lap where you stroked his wild locks.
Eddie enjoyed the attention for a few minutes then raised the hem of your dress and pressed his lips against the inside of your leg.
"What?" he asked when you didn't react.
It was hard to see your expression in the lamplight but your lack of response meant something was wrong.
"I need to tell you something."
"Oh no, no, no, no sentence starting with that ends well," Eddie now sat up straight and clutched at your dress. "What did I do?"
"Nothing!" you said quickly realising your blunder. "I just need you to know something but I didn't want to tell you before because it might scare you off. It's a little heavy."
"Are you in trouble baby?"
The genuine concern in Eddie's voice made your heart swell and you wanted to pull him close. He was sweeter than you deserved.
"Nothing like that it's just something Wayne asked that got me thinking."
"If he's upset you I'll go back and tell him."
"It's ok Eddie. It's about my mum."
"She left, it's ok," Eddie was quick to reassure you and hugged your knees. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want, I understand."
"No, well yes, she did leave I mean," you rambled because you might reconsider if you hesitated. "When I was five Dad was sectioned for the first time. Pretty soon after Mum decided single parenting wasn't for her so got herself a divorce and surrendered custody of me to a girls' home. I haven't seen her since."
Eddie didn't reply and his stiff form in the darkness gained a forebodingness like a nightmare figure. It was unlike him not to react animatedly to shocking news and his stillness unnerved you.
You could hear the crickets chirping in the grass and spoke again to break the unsettling quiet.
"I say it was a boarding school because it sounds less tragic. I don't miss her, she made her choice. It's not important but I wanted you to know so you don't think I've been dishonest."
Eddie released his grip around your legs and you went cold with dread. He had reached his limit with your mess and was walking away.
Suddenly warmth came back to your skin as Eddie put his hands on you cheeks and gave you a long, slow kiss.
"This changes nothing baby," he only pulled away far enough to talk. "I'm always gonna adore you. My mother hasn't seen me in six years and not called in three. I say to hell with both of them."
You groped in the dark until you found Eddie's shoulders and latched onto him like a lifeline. For a few terrifying seconds you had been adrift and helpless in the dark without his stalwart support.
It took some time holding him before you could talk again, now certain he wouldn't leave.
"I don't mean to trauma dump on you I just want there to be more between us than witty repartee and sex."
"There is darling. So much more."
You released Eddie slowly and exhaled the anxiety you'd been holding in your chest. A steak dinner with family had turned out to be far more emotional than you'd anticipated.
Eddie slipped his hands under you knees then tugged so hard you fell backwards. The cute ballet flats you'd been wearing flew off as your little feet kicked the air and your eyes were suddenly full of stars dotting the night sky.
"What are you doing?" you giggled as Eddie's hot breath tickled you under your dress.
He looked like a kid stuck in a sleeping bag as he moved around under your dress and you laughed at your own compromising position. Flat on your back with a boy between your legs.
Eddie worked his fingers under your panty line and shimmied them down your hips. You made a noise of surprise but allowed Eddie to move your legs until the garment was stripped and thrown over his shoulder.
"Hey," you said with mild annoyance to see your good underwear discarded but forgot it a second later.
His strong, warm tongue licking your vaginal opening roused a sensation in you so strong your body arched with a gasp.
Good authority had told you this wasn't something straight guys would do willingly so you struggled to comprehend what was happening.
You had assumed the practice would be sloppy and vulgar but Eddie used his mouth with as much delicacy as he did with his hands. His lips on your opening had the pressure of an intimate kiss and his tongue stroked your inner folds with a velvet touch.
Your fingers fluttered to your lips like a scandalised damsel and you stared at the sky with your mouth open in silent excitement.
The unique caress thrilled you in a new way and your brain didn't know the right response.
So you lay there helpless in your pleasure.
The tip of Eddie's tongue brushed something deep that elicited a meek "Oh" from your open lips and he took the encouragement. You were such a wet mix of fluids that his mouth glid across your vagina effortlessly and he took your bud in his mouth.
The nerves in your clitoris awoke like thunder in a gathering storm and your voice returned to express your assent. Eddie ran his hands tenderly over your thighs and backside to stimulate your cooling skin and titillated your bud with the tip of his tongue gently.
It the time you two had been intimate Eddie had learned to discount everything he'd heard third hand about sex and listen to you instead. You weren't shy to express your enjoyment and your reactions were the best guide to achieving mutual pleasure.
You were breathing in short, sharp gasps of sweet shock but Eddie knew the sound you made when you were close. He let his mouth melt deeper onto you and began to suck your bud hungrily.
The shift in technique threw you into fourth gear and you could feel your body rushing to climax. Usually your orgasms built slowly, the reward for patient penetrative lovemaking but this time it erupted like a flare igniting your lower body.
You gave a groan of relief like you'd been holding back a dam and felt the orgasmic energy spill from your waist to water your thirsty body.
Feebly you tried to reach for Eddie as you pinned for his touch but he still had you tilted so your grasp fell short. Eddie then pulled himself out of your dress and wiped his mouth ungraciously on the back of his hand to watch you recover.
In the dark you couldn't see his flushed face or his genuine surprise at his success. There was more guesswork in sex than he'd ever realised.
He could see your middle rising and falling as your ecstasy rush settled and he lowered your legs back onto the table. His fingers stayed firmly round your ankles however as he struggled internally with his good reason and his libido.
You could hear the question he wouldn't voice and had the same sense of incompleteness. Eddie's attentions had given you splendour but they'd also prepared you for more and your lower muscles ached for it.
"Do it Eddie I'm soaked for you."
Without hesitance Eddie pulled a condom from his back pocket and you heard his fly open. There was a small crinkling sound then you were roughly pulled towards him by your legs.
You could imagine his rock hard cock straining against the latex and your chest expanded with an excited inhale.
His length slipped into you easily and you let out a satisfied moan. The sensual orgasm had been bliss but the base physicality of being filled with his thick cock made you horny in a primal way.
Most times you made love but sometimes like now you simply fucked. After hours of upstanding behaviour you had to wash the genteel polish off with a bath of sweat and cum.
You surrendered totally letting Eddie manhandle your legs as he slammed into you. There would be bruises on your thighs tomorrow but right now the pain didn't register.
In the lamplight Eddie could see your breasts bounce with every pound and he longed to climb up on the table and rip your dress open. He could imagine the tight mounds breaking into gooseflesh from the evening air and how the tiny bumps would melt under his hot tongue.
But there was no time to ravish the rest of you, he was close to coming and this position was too perfect to compromise. Your cunt was practically a river soaking his groin and every time you arched your abdomen it would tighten on his cock pulling him closer to release.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Eddie grunted in time with his thrusts but your only reply were the shy gasps that escaped each time his tip hit your core.
He wanted to fuck everything out of you until only he was left. Obliterate the sweet facade you'd worn at dinner and the lonely girl abandoned by her mother. Fuck you until you were so full of him no one could claim a piece of you.
It was raw, possessive and toxic but Eddie didn't care. You were his and he's was branding you for the world to know it.
"Eddie!"
You hadn't expected a second orgasm. Honestly you didn't think they could happen, that it was something magazines had made up to entertain rarely serviced housewives.
You screamed this time, the extreme sensation on your already ravished body was too much and you couldn't stay quiet.
Your body spasmed and Eddie released his own orgasm with a growl. He pitched forward and clenched your hips with a bruising force as hot pleasure rushed through his cock and pooled in the sheath.
The two of you panted out of time in a collapsed bundle and began to notice how far the temperature had dropped.
Suddenly self conscious you looked around to see the park lights glowing down the hill and listened for anyone approaching. Someone out for a stroll or a sneaky cigarette might think to investigate the animalistic cries coming from the playground.
"You're a bad girl," Eddie groaned exhaustedly when his breathing steadied.
"Me?" you lifted your head off the picnic table and felt Eddie slowly move out of you. "You started this Munson."
"You invited me up here," Eddie rebutted and you heard a synthetic flicking sound in the dark.
You knew Eddie had shot the tied condom across the picnic area and you had an unpleasant image of a small child finding it tomorrow along with your underwear.
"I wanted to talk," you said in your defense and sat up.
"This is how all our evening talks finish."
"Unless you pass out watching Miami Vice."
"One time baby."
"Come up here and hug me," you held your arms out and decided to quit the banter. You were cold now and you wanted your boyfriend to wrap you up for a little while before you drove home.
Eddie gave no argument and climbed on the table beside you. You were still buzzing from your double high and snuggled in tight smelling his sweat and deodorant.
"That was a good fuck Eddie."
It wasn't what the poets would have said but it was true.
Eddie kissed you on the head and tried to pat your loose hair back into a respectable form before admitting that was impossible.
"I like making you happy baby," he said and linked his fingers with yours.
You stayed nestled together on the bench watching the trailer lights below and Eddie realised for the first time how small they looked.
He'd outgrown this suburb of budget building materials and knew now he could leave it. Since he'd met you his scope had widened to see past Senior year and Tuesday night gigs at the Hideout.
There wouldn't be much to pack besides his guitar and he didn't have a destination in mind but one thing was certain.
You were coming with him.
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delugyu · 14 hours ago
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idek why i have a sick thought about this. im on my period rn thinking about how soobin begging or maybe reader begging to be fucked on her period. (sorry for being weird ass)
ur not weird bae i like dis 👅
(wc: 1.8k / warnings: soobin is a fucking freak lmao, unprotected period sex!!!, soobin being a sweetie pie and cutie patootie)
soobin’s laying on top of you, head resting on your chest as you lay in your bed. you hate to disturb his peace, but you’re cramping and his weight on top of your whole body isn’t helping you. “babe, you’re squishing me,” you say, tapping his back to signal him to move.
he whines and snuggles further into you. “i don’t wanna get up yet,” he complains. you’d probably giggle if it didn’t feel like you were getting stabbed in the uterus.
“i’m cramping,” you explain, shoving his shoulders until he lifts himself up. he hovers over you, looking down at you with a pout. he leans in to place a peck onto your lips, which you just barely accept. “can you get me tylenol or something?” you ask when he pulls back.
he sighs. “yeah.”
you make a face at him, you can’t help it. you’re on your period, it’s justified. “what was that sigh about?”
“i wanna cuddle,” he says, hands smoothing down your sides sweetly.
“get me tylenol first.” you cup his face and let your thumbs brush his cheeks. he smiles at you before kissing you once more.
“okay,” he agrees. he leaves and comes back with two pills in one hand and a cup of water in the other.
“thank you.” you take the items from his hands and down both pills at once. he takes the cup from your hands once you’re done with it, setting it on your nightstand. “this better kick in soon,” you groan as you lay back against the bed. soobin sits beside you and brushes his hand through your hair.
“can i lay next to you?” you can’t help but smile at him when he asks that. he’s so funny.
“of course you can. you don’t have to ask, weirdo,” you say teasingly.
“well, i’m not allowed to lay on you, apparently,” he explains as he gets comfortable on your bed, leaving a bit of space between the two of you. your smile doesn’t leave your face—in fact, it only grows fonder at how cautious he is.
“you can still hug me, just don’t squish me.” the winning grin he gives you doesn’t go unnoticed. he tugs you gently toward him until he’s spooning you, and you allow him to drape his arm over your waist. you close your eyes and try to slow your breathing, thinking you might just nap away the pain. you lay in comfortable silence, letting the minutes pass by slowly.
you’re probably a couple minutes away from falling asleep when soobin’s voice brings you back to reality. “is the medicine working?” he asks softly. you’re a little annoyed that he broke you from your sleepy haze, but you don’t want to bark at him when he’s being so considerate.
“not really,” you answer. he coos and lets his hand rub over your lower stomach, trying to soothe the pain. you appreciate the effort, but it’s really not doing anything.
“i’m sorry baby,” he says. his warm hand slips under your shirt to rest against your bare skin. “can i help you?”
you almost laugh as you roll your eyes. this isn’t the first time he’s tried to pull this stunt. “i’m starting to think you have a thing for period sex.” you look back at him to see his mischievous smile. your suspicions are confirmed further when his pinky dives beneath the hem of your panties, lightly brushing against your skin. you can’t deny that it brings a little heat to your core.
“can i?” he asks, leaning in to pepper kisses across your face. you swoon, he’s such a sweetheart. “i want my baby to feel good, hate it when you’re in pain.”
“i’d have to go take my tampon out,” you say. you feel like teasing him a little, so you add, “and i don’t really feel like getting up.”
“i’ll take it out for you,” he jumps to say. you laugh immediately at his eagerness.
“you are literally so nasty. you’re such a freak.” you love the guilty little laugh he gives you at that. he’s adorable.
“i will though,” he says, doubling down.
“oh i believe you.” you get up, making soobin frown. you look at him with heart eyes and squish his cheeks with your hand. “i’ll do it myself though.” you leave to do exactly that and clean yourself up a bit, coming back with a towel to lay on the bed.
you don’t miss the excitement in soobin’s eyes as you set the towel down. he’s practically buzzing as he waits for you to lay back down onto the bed. as soon as your body meets the mattress, soobin’s hands are on you, peeling your shirt off and throwing your clothes onto the floor piece by piece until you’re naked. his hands are greedy, wanting to feel all of you at once, running from your tits to your waist to your hips to your thighs and anywhere else they can feel up.
“i really wanna make you cum,” he says, looking at you for permission. his hands wait at your hips, gripping the flesh like it’s the only thing he can do to hold back.
“then what are you waiting for?” you jump a little at how fast he moves when the words leave your mouth. his lips are on your breasts, licking and sucking as he pleases while his fingers run between your folds. he moans like this is getting him off, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he was enjoying himself more than you right now. he’s a pussy fiend, it’s ridiculous.
he draws tight circles on your clit, trying to get you wet enough to stretch you open on his cock. his desperation is a little endearing to you. you love how devoted he is to your pleasure, even if you act like his eagerness to have period sex is gross. his lips wrap around your nipple, tongue swirling around the bud until your back arches off the bed. your hand wraps in his hair and tugs at the strands, a habit you’ve picked up once he told you how much he likes it.
“are you ready? can you take me?” he asks, looking up at you from your chest. his fingers move a little slower but press against you harder, so much so that it has you throwing your head back and moaning out shamelessly. he laps at the valley of your breasts, mindlessly licking all across your chest as you whine and writhe beneath him.
you don’t answer him, in part due to your throat being too busy drawing out moan after moan, but also because you’re evil and want to hear him beg for it a little. it doesn’t take long to get what you want—it’s not even a minute later that he starts whining, mouth getting more frantic and frenzied as he sucks and bites your tits, rubbing your arousal all over your pussy. you’re dripping like crazy, and you both know you’re ready to be fucked, but he won’t move until you permiss him. he’s perfectly respectful and well-behaved.
he looks up at you again, eyes carrying much more urgency this time. “baby, can i put it in now?” he keeps his gaze on you as he licks a stripe up to your shoulder, biting then kissing your flesh.
“can you ask a little nicer?” you prompt sweetly, running a gentle hand through his hair just to tug at it harshly once you reach his nape. he whines at the sensation and starts rubbing your cunt with more fervor.
“please let me in your cunt! i need to fuck you so badly! i’ll die without it!” aww. that’s what you like to hear.
“i’m all yours, my pretty boy,” you say, and he pulls himself up to capture your lips in a heated kiss as he brings his tip to your entrance. his tongue explores your mouth impatiently, taking from you as he pleases while he finally starts pressing in. he moans into your mouth, the noise making your heart flutter.
he detaches his lips from yours, a string of saliva connecting you until it breaks. he pushes in inch by inch, watching your every reaction because he’s sweet and doesn’t want to hurt you. you need this just as much as him though, so you both sigh in satisfaction when he finally bottoms out. you let him stay like that for a minute, smiling when you feel his cock twitching inside of you.
“are you not gonna last, baby?” you tease, caressing his face. he pouts at you.
“i will,” he promises. he starts moving then, pulling out of you at a slow, calculated pace. he makes sure to draw back as far as he can without leaving you and bottom out completely with each thrust. his pelvis hits your clit deliciously when he rolls his hips into you.
you feel so full, so nice and stretched around soobin’s dick. you take his face in your hands to pull his lips back to yours, taking your time and letting your tongues tangle. you eat up his whines and moans, hands running down his neck to rest on his shoulders. your fingers dig into his skin when he starts thrusting more forcefully, pulling a gasp from your lips.
you eventually lose the ability to kiss him properly anymore, too caught up in the pressure building in your stomach. he bites his lip as he takes in your blissful reactions—the whimpers leaving you, the tilt of your brows, all the signs telling him you’re nearly there. his fingers start rolling your nipples, making your body tremble. your nails rake down his back, clutching onto him desperately.
“i love you, you’re so pretty, i need you to cum for me,” he rambles, fucking you with more determination. you cry out, legs clamping around soobin’s waist, pulling him in until he’s in as deep as he can go. your walls spasm around his cock as your climax comes over you, pushing soobin right into his orgasm too. you feel his cum spurt out of him, filling you up as he grinds his hips into you. he’s a mess of babbled words above you, hands squeezing your tits greedily until he calms down and starts softening inside you.
you soothe your hands down his back as he stays bottomed out inside you. his weight collapses against you, but it’s not so bad this time. “still cramping?” he asks, out of breath.
you giggle and pat his head. “not anymore,” you answer.
he looks up at you with a hopeful smile. “so i can lay on top of you now?” he blinks up at you cutely. you could never say no when he’s looking at you like this.
you give him an exaggerated sigh. “if you insist…”
(you fake nonchalance very poorly. you both know that you love this just as much as him.)
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flshsticks · 2 days ago
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☆ミ ☆彡 ☆ミ ☆彡 ☆ミ ☆彡 ☆ミ ☆彡
Pair!: Danny Ramirez x male reader
A/n: I do t know anything abt him but I’ll try my best!!
Requested!: Hey so I fucking love your work and I was wondering if I could request a fic idea of Danny Ramirez x male reader smut with Danny renting out some property do reader and him are alone and can be as intimate as they want to so one morning reader wakes up to Danny with morning wood and Danny asks if he can help him with his little problem that’s not so little by ducking him off once reader almost makes him cum he stops and gets up saying that they need to eat so Danny still frustrated that he couldn’t cum goes up to reader in the kitchen naked and he pulls readers underwear off as he started to eat him out and they forget breakfast and soon they just fuck on the counter and Danny is just like bossy and mad about how reader left him so he gets rough while having sex and all that good stuff plus daddy kink
☆ミ ☆彡 ☆ミ ☆彡 ☆ミ ☆彡 ☆ミ ☆彡
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The sun light shines through yours and Danny’s Danny’s shared bedroom. The light brightened up your room and wakes up Danny..with a massive headache..and a very massive morning wood. He groans and turns to his side to meet with your back. He taps you on the shoulder trying to wake you up. “What do you want..” you whine turning around to face Danny. “I’m hard..can you suck me off?..pleaseee.” Really?? How dare he wake you up from your perfect beauty sleep for his cock?? Sighing and not wanting to be bothered you decided to possibly suck him off.
Get up from the bed and straddle his legs. yanking his pants and underwear down, then bending down and arching your back to suck him off. He moans loudly, griping onto your pretty hair to push you back down on his fat cock. Stroking his dick a little you take him even deeper, he whines almost about to cum before you stop and get up from the bed, “we gotta stop, we have to eat first..” you said getting up and going to the kitchen. Danny huffs and follows after you ass naked. Slowly Danny creeps up behind you, he grabs onto readers hips “Danny! What are you doing?” He dosent answer. Instead he pulls your underwear off. Getting on his knees.
Licking his lips he spreads your plump ass open, seeing your cute pink hole pucker at the cold air. You shiver looking back at Danny “D-Danny stop you can get breakfast after I’m done..” you said looking at Danny “I’m hungry for something else.” He says lunging forward at your hole, licking it up like a mad man, he fucks your ass with tongue and smothers his face with your ass. Eating you out he stopsBending you over the counter and grabs his cock. Desperate to cum in your tight walls he quickly grabbed the olive oil on the counter and used it for lube. Squirting it on his cock he gaves his dick a few strokes. Massaging the olive oil on his cock a few times before slamming his cock in.
With a loud moan you arched your back. Eyes already rolling into the back of his head. You squeeze your legs together trying to prevent them from spreading even further. “N-ngh! D-Dan daddy!! To rough!” You cried out, spit running down your chin, tears streaming down your cheeks. Toes curling, you swore he’d never been this rough before, but it felt amazing either way, noaning loudly he stops and flips you around to look at you, pushing you further into the counter so your lying on it, he enters back in again slamming in and thrusting roughly, this goes on for a few hours before he finally cums in your pretty gummy walls.
Painting them in his white cream, you are also about to cum. “C-cumming daddy!!” You moan out, he grabs your cock. Stroking it until all your cum comes squirting out, you and him pant and breathed heavily, your legs giving up completely, “you..you’re taking me to the bed..” you said Danny picks you up and walks to the room “to have more sex? “No so I can rest…and then more sex..” Danny chuckles and nods.
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(It’s pretty short but I tried I hope u guys like it! :3)
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nelle-y · 1 day ago
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A love story told through voicelines (Alhaitham ver.) II
C/W: alhaitham x gn!reader, not that slow of a burn, characters find the other annoying, reader is a teacher at the akademiya, heavily implied past intimacy (nsfw), not proofread
Note: does this count as smut?-
Part 1
(You) About Alhaitham: Heartdrops
Every time I hear his name, my heart drops.
It’s ridiculous, really. I should be over this—over him. But then he speaks, and I feel it again. That same pull, that same tension, like a string wound too tight. He steps too close, and my breath hitches before I can stop it. His touch lingers for just a second too long, and suddenly, I’m back there.
That night was supposed to mean nothing. A lapse in judgment, a mistake to forget. And yet, here we are—standing too close, pretending we don’t remember.
But I do. And so does he.
(Alhaitham) About you: Heartdrops
Emotions are irrational, transient things—disruptive, even. I’ve never had an issue keeping them at bay. But with them… it’s different.
There’s an odd satisfaction in watching them try—and fail—to conceal their reactions. The way their breath catches when I step too close, the way their gaze lingers despite their attempts to seem unaffected. It would be amusing, if it didn’t leave me with a peculiar sense of déjà vu.
After all, I remember that night just as well as they do.
(You) About Alhaitham: Contemplation
I should’ve known better than to think he’d stay gone forever. Alhaitham never does anything without reason, so why now? Why after all these years?
It’s not as if I haven’t enjoyed this—whatever this is—but I’m not naive. He’s deliberate with his words, his actions, the way he leans in just enough to make me wonder if it’s intentional. I should walk away before I get caught in whatever game he’s playing.
… And yet, every time he looks at me like that, I hesitate.
(Alhaitham) About you: Contemplation
Patterns exist in everything—human behavior is no exception. I’ve spent enough time studying them to recognize the subtleties: the way their fingers twitch when I brush too close, the way their eyes dart away a second too late. They try to act indifferent, yet their body betrays them.
So, for the sake of curiosity, I’ve decided to conduct an experiment. A hypothesis, if you will. If I push just a little further, lean just a little closer… how will they respond?
Purely for observation, of course. Nothing more.
(You) About Alhaitham: Excuses
He’s barely in his office. I was looking for him the other day, and his desk was practically dust! Honestly, it’s harder to catch him actually working than on a break.
Why was I looking for him? It’s nothing—I was just going to ask something. Let me know if you see him, okay?
(Alhaitham) About you: Excuses
So they’re looking for me? That’s unexpected. After all that talk of wanting me away from them. Though I wonder—was it truly work-related, or were they simply using that as an excuse?
Regardless, if they have something to ask, they know where to find me. And if not… well, I suppose I can make an exception and save them the trouble.
(You) Character story: An Instant
“I heard you wanted to see me,” said Alhaitham in his usual condescending tone. He rested against the doorway of your classroom, a smug grin contrasting his uninterested gaze.
“I wasn’t looking—and yet, here you are.” That may be a half-truth—you only looked in his office, and gave up right after—but he doesn’t have to know that. You just hope the traveler hasn’t tattled.
“Here I am.” he looked away, “The traveler told me you were looking, though.” Damn it. His feet took a few paces closer, now facing you as you leaned on your desk. “I find it pitiful having to tolerate your half-truths to save face.”
“You do? Stange. I thought you liked it, given how you come back to my lectures all the time, placing comeback after comeback. You do have the liberty to interlope someone else’s class, am I correct?”
“Truly.”
“So why choose my class to squander?” Your words were quick—almost interrogative—and his frigid demeanor nearly faltered at your attacks.
His silence was rare, but you caught it—the slight twitch of his brow, the way his lips parted as if considering his words more carefully than usual.
Then, he leaned in.
It was subtle at first, but suddenly, you were hyperaware of everything—the way the dim glow of the afternoon light cast shadows against his features, the way the air felt heavier between you, the way his gaze flickered to your lips for just a second too long.
It should have been nothing. A natural proximity in a confined space.
But then, images of that night drew clearly in your mind. How his lips pressed the crease of your own, every bit of skin rising from his touch. How his gaze burned something within you. How you fit so perfectly. Eyes locked with his, you let this feeling eat you alive, blurring what surrounded you and leaving the room with only you and him.
Your breath hitched.
Alhaitham’s sharp sight didn’t miss that. His smirk deepened, smug and knowing.
“Hm.” His voice was lower now, almost amused. “Interesting.”
You exhaled sharply, regaining your footing before your thoughts could spiral into something irredeemable. “Don’t act so pleased with yourself.”
“I’m not.” He tilted his head, studying you like a problem he had yet to solve. “But I am curious.”
You remind yourself of who was in front of you; a man who was always two steps ahead. The man whose arrogance boiled holes into your bloodstream. The man whose said arrogance brought you life.
It was infuriating how he always managed to do this—how he could toe the line between challenge and something much more dangerous. You swallowed hard, gripping the edge of your desk for stability. “If you’re done wasting my time, Alhaitham, you can leave.”
He didn’t move at first.
Then, as if entertained by your sudden shift, he exhaled a quiet chuckle and straightened.
“As you wish.”
And just like that, the moment passed, leaving only a lingering heat in its wake.
You were, very much, in trouble.
(Alhaitham) Character story: Unraveling Consequences
For once, the quick-witted scribe was at a loss for words.
He never expected his little experiment to feel so heated.
It was supposed to be a simple test—a controlled observation of their reactions, an analysis of what lay beneath their carefully guarded exterior. And yet, when their breath hitched, when their fingers curled just slightly against the desk, when the heat of that memory flickered so obviously in their gaze—
Something in him faltered.
That was not part of the hypothesis.
Alhaitham prided himself on his ability to maintain control, to remain unaffected by the distractions of sentimentality. Emotions were, at their core, disruptions—variables that compromised efficiency and clouded rational thought. But when he leaned in and saw them break—even if just for a second—
It felt like he had reached an answer he hadn’t meant to find.
He should leave it at that. He had his results, his confirmation. He had nothing more to gain from indulging this.
And yet…
His feet hesitated at the threshold.
His mind, ever calculating, considered a new problem:
If that was their reaction to mere proximity… what would happen if he pushed just a little further?
He exhaled, shaking his head.
Hah. Now they were becoming troublesome.
And for the first time in his life, he wasn’t entirely sure if he minded.
Note: PLEASE GOD LEAVE REQUESTS ON HOW I COULD CONTINUE THIS
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undeadcannibal · 2 days ago
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Gangbang with phillip and the shadows (x Reader obv) THANK U
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Summary: Graves & his Shadows gangbang their favorite obedient soldier.
Genre: drabble, PWP, request(s) Characters featured: Phillip Graves, The Shadows, Reader
Warnings: smut
Word count: 633
A/N: I've had this in my inbox for so long... I decided to leave it at this for now just so I can get back into writing and have something posted T-T Hopefully you enjoy, Anon, and thank you for the req! ( Gif credit: xxx )
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"Aw, what's the matter?" Graves questioned, his tone light and mocking. "I thought you said you could roll with the big boys? Don't tell me you're tapping out so soon…"
Phillip was currently kneeling in front of you as he watched one of his Shadows use your mouth like a sex toy. Fucking it with little regard to your gagging or the tears sliding down your cheeks. Doing exactly as he was ordered to and fucking you for all you were worth.
Glancing up at the Shadow member using your mouth - whose call sign you'd yet to learn - you realized that you didn't even know what they looked like beneath their gear. Well, aside from their skin color anyway. His pale and flushed member continuously slipping in and out of your mouth. Threatening to slip the tip past the opening of your throat with every deep, forward thrust of his hips. The rest of him was covered from head to toe in black tactical gear. After Graves had ordered him to use you, he'd simply slipped himself out past the opened zipper of his pants before getting to work.
It seemed like the group of Shadows was like Graves' personal pack of trained attack dogs, always at the ready to do whatever they were commanded to. Whatever he barked at them, they did without question. You could imagine that if he'd asked them all to jump for him they would have done so without any question as to how high before going to it.
Just as you nearly became lost in your own thoughts, the soldier using your mouth could be heard grunting. You could feel his member twitching within your mouth as his pace began to falter. Another series of twitches - and a low curse from above - were the only warnings you received before you felt him cumming into your mouth. Causing you to sputter and gag as you found yourself suddenly forced to swallow down his load as he rode out his orgasm. Shallowly thrusting inside the hot, wet confines of it to ensure you took every drop. Finally sighing and pulling out abruptly once he was finished, a thick string of combined fluids connecting your lips to the tip of his softening cock was left behind before your tongue greedily swiped it away.
"Good, good…" Graves praised.
"Yeah," The masked soldier added in. "Can't tell you how much I needed that. Here--" Rummaging around for something hidden inside one of his many pockets, he pulls out a clean rag before crouching down in front of you. Offering the cloth to you with a nod of his head. "Allow me."
Far gentler than how he'd fucked your mouth, the helmeted soldier gently cleaned up your face. Making sure to be careful as he went about clearing your smeared makeup and bits of dribble leftover. Once he was done, he stood up and tucked the cloth back into a pocket. Turning towards his Commander, nodding his head in his direction.
Phillip wanted to roll his eyes at the sight of his Shadow cleaning you up, but didn't voice any complaints. Instead, after he was done and nodding for him to carry on, Phillip glanced over at the rest of the Shadows surrounding you. Each of them had watched the scene with hungry gazes and swelling hard ons but also knew better than to try and take charge. Their Commander had mentioned this was a special occasion - "a gift for good behavior" if you will - and as such, they weren't to do anything he didn't allow for them to. And, should you not want to do anything further, everything was to stop immediately. Still, neither of you had mentioned any of your safe words for the time being, so the show must go on. . .
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