#just point and laugh 😈

[rixsjwb]

waist problem geto suguru x reader

part 2

suguru has a habit of always putting his hand on your waist, even when you're both just close friends.

whether it's needing to get past with a 'my fault', his hands have a magnetic pull to the curve of your waist, whenever you're hanging out with the group of friends satoru, shoko, sukuna and toji and some others, you've become almost touch blind or lost all feeling on touch whenever suguru holds your waist. he does it so much that you don't even notice it anymore until people point it out.

" are y'and suguru a thing or..." You hear satoru say, " Why would you think that?" You say out of genuine curiosity.

you can feel suguru apply comforting pressure to your waist, which slides down to your pudgy, curvy hips, his vainy hands flexing.

"You flirt with everyone all the time. You don't see me asking if you're together." You shrugged, you lean your head on sugurus chest that he seems to bring you into.

eventually, satoru drops the accusation but doesn't seem fully convinced, but you don't mind.

the assumption continues to flow around in the group, sugurus hands always all over your body, hips, waist, and even going as far as to hold you from just under your breast to give the push up bra effect, ogling at them too.

pulling at the belt loop of your jeans before sliding a hand to rest on your waist, whenever he's sitting down while you're standing near him, he can't help but wrap an arm around your hips. leaning his head against your hip.

whenever he's down he pulls you by the waist snuggling into your chest, and on a rare occasion he would squish your boobs like a stress ball. which always made you laugh at the funny feeling.

overall, you can't ever keep him from not gripping your waist. He'd pull you closer to rub your stomach, letting some fingers slip up your shirt, but nothing too crazy.

note: THANK YOU GANG FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT, especially you guys in the comments😋😋, this is the most likes I've ever gotten on a post, and I'm honestly baffled but I'm greatful, thank youu all😍😍😝😋😊🎉🎉😈😈🥹🙏🙏

note 2: part 2 is out!!

[38livesalone-has3cats]

Hiiiii i have a request 😛

bob floyd gets a concussion and is flustered and embarrassed when wife!reader tells him they’re married, and he doesn’t believe her because she’s so pretty

muaahahahaha😈😈😈 I absolutely loveee this !!!

warnings/tags: v minimal hospital stuff, anxious reader, (y/n) used like twice, fluff, bob is sooo in love lololl, very quick nsfw mention, also bob is southern because I SAID SO, reader is lowkey southern too cause i am and i’m projecting🥀

wc: 1.2k

a/n: sighhh i love bob so much, this was so fun to write :] thank you for the req !! plsss keep them comin !

It wasn't very often you were invited on base. You aren't not allowed there, you just never really had much of a reason to spend the day over there. So that's why you're a little fidgety as you make your way through the parking lot of the small hospital on base. That, and you had received a worrying phone call this morning.

You were lounging at home- enjoying your day off- when your phone rang. You recognized the number from the very few times you had been called by one of your husband's supervisors. A doctor had informed you that your husband had had to make an emergency eject during training and hit his head pretty hard.

You had panicked immediately but the doctor assured you Bob would be just fine; he just has a fairly serious concussion and his memory and motor skills are a bit wonky at the moment. You finished up the phone call and rushed over as quickly as you could.

You aren't waiting in the lobby very long before a nurse leads you back to your husband's room. Your heart almost breaks at the sight of him in his hospital bed, looking absolutely pitiful. He's sitting up slightly with his head tilted back facing the ceiling, his eyes closed and his breathing a bit slower than usual.

"Bobby? Honey, how're you feeling?" You're by his side in an instant, one hand caressing his arm and the other brushing along his forehead as his eyes flutter a few times before his head tilts toward you. His eyes are a bit fuzzy, unfocused, but he's still got that light he's always had- like the sun itself has taken root in him and couldn't help but shine through. "'m doin' okay, how're you?" He mumbles, his tone completely serious. You can't help but laugh at him; those southern manners imbedded deep in him. "I'm okay, just worried bout you, Bobby." You run your fingers along the edge of a small bandage on his forehead, before turning and reaching for his glasses.

Carefully, you slide them onto his face and watch in amusement as his mouth drops open. You go to speak, but he beats you to it; "I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." A pretty flush rises to his cheeks and his eyes stay wide open, like he doesn't want to blink and miss any microexpression you might make.

"Oh, thank you, handsome." You grin, cupping his chin with one hand and leaning in to brush your lips against his gently. You're shocked when his shaky arms do what they can to push you away- there's not much force behind his wobbly movements, but you back away and look down at him with furrowed brows. "Nonononono, stop stop- 'm married." He frantically tries to get out despite the slur in his voice.

"Baby-" You start, fighting the giggle in your voice. He shakes his head, a beautiful pout taking over his features. "I love my wife. She's perfect- you gotta back up." His eyes screw shut, he turns his head away from you, and his shaky hands rub his eyes. "Her name's (y/n), she's fuckin' great- pardon my l-language." He mumbles, mostly to himself at this point.

"Bob. My name is (y/n). My last name's Floyd. I'm your wife." You reach out to gently grasp his wrists. Bob whips his head toward you so fast he's dizzy for a few moments. You keep your eyes on him, unsure whether to laugh or call for a nurse. Once his eyes really focus on you he seems to deflate, his arms falling to his lap and his cheeks quickly heat up a bright red. He looks.. nervous. "You okay?" You hum, slowly reaching out for him.

A beat of silence passes before he opens his mouth, his bottom lip trembling, "I missed youuu." He finally says- his hand shooting out to meet yours. He overshoots it a bit, though, and smacks your shoulder. You let out a relieved laugh, grabbing his hand and interlacing your fingers together. God, he really scared you for a second. "You're really my wife? How?" He asks, looking absolutely amazed as you run your fingers along his cheekbones.

"It's a very long story, Bobby. But I love you." You grin, leaning down to kiss his forehead. He lets out a dreamy sigh, reaching up with his free hand to grip onto your shoulder. "Yeah? God, you're so pretty." He blinks up at you, unable to fight the smile on his face.

For a moment, you're stunned by just how beautiful he is- pink cheeks, wide eyes, and a boyish grin; a little beat up and bruised but easily the most gorgeous man you've ever seen. You chest seems to swell up with all the love you feel for your husband. You feel a tugging at your shirt and realize he's said something to you. "Sorry, what'd you say, honey?"

"'m tryna sweep you off your feet, sweetheart- you're makin' it hard." Bob grumbles, letting go of your hand to grip at the front of your shirt so he can tug you down with both arms. You let out a breathy laugh, allowing him to pull you closer. "I'm so very sorry." You grin against his lips before giving in.

He tastes the same, he's got the usual enthusiasm, his technique's just a bit wonky. You honestly wouldn't change it for the world. The kiss only breaks when he's gasping and you have to push him away or he won't stop. It's his favorite thing- drowning in you; in your eyes, your lips, your pussy. God, just the thought of having you has blood rushing to his dick so fast he's a bit lightheaded.

You press one last lingering kiss to his lips before you're pulling back and turning to grab a chair. "Doctor said you gotta spend the night here so-"

"Need my pillow- need to move my pillow." Bob's voice is urgent when he interrupts you and you're letting go of the chair and running your eyes over him to see if anything's changed. "Where? Are you okay? You hurting?" You question him as you carefully slide the pillow out from behind him. He just furrows his brows and chews on his lip as you hold the pillow beside him for a moment. "Where do you want it, Bobby?" You repeat, worry clawing up your throat.

"My lap." One of his wobbly arms grabs onto the pillow and tugs it toward him- you don't let go just yet, your fear turning to confusion. A "Huh?" tumbles from your lips and Bob is grinning. "So pretty, my wife.. Gave me a kiss and I popped a boner." He sighs, still fighting with you for the pillow as he starts to giggle to himself over the word 'boner'.

You let go of the pillow with an incredulous laugh and watch as he settles it over his lap. Surely there's no way he's at full mast with all the pain meds in his system- you almost want to check- but you just shake your head and settle into the chair next to his hospital bed. You thread your fingers with his and settle your head onto his boner-hiding pillow, keeping your eyes on his as he traces his unsteady fingers along your features.

Bob stares at you in wonder, wondering what he could've done to ever possibly deserve having you. "My wife." He murmurs, reverently, like he can't quite believe it.

"Maybe we'll renew our vows when you aren't so hopped up on pain meds."

[lynbels]

25 jungwon pls pls pls

looks deceive - yjw (m)

#25: The quiet nerd turns out to be anything but shy, using your body like it’s his.

pairing: jungwon x reader - prompt req list

synopsis: You spent months teasing Jungwon for being the quiet nerd in class—until one night he finally snapped, and you learned exactly how wrong you were about him. ✉️ 3782wc

‼️tw: slight bullying, dubcon vibes, dominance, manhandling, degradation (light), oral (m receiving), rough sex, creampie, praise, possessiveness, spanking, slight hair pulling, unprotected sex (wrap ur willies guys)

💌: no because I totally imagine this happening good jungwon by day evil jungwon by night 😈

You weren’t a mean girl, not really. Just…a little playful. Maybe a little too playful when it came to the nerdy boy who sat in the back of your Chemistry class.

Yang Jungwon.

Blonde hair always perfectly parted, button-down shirts always ironed stiff, and those stupid little glasses perched on the bridge of his nose—he was practically begging for it. He didn’t even talk back when you and your friends joked about him. He just sat there, quietly scribbling formulas with that pretty hand of his, pretending not to hear the way you laughed.

“You think he’s a robot or something?” your friend Hana giggled one afternoon, chin propped on her hand as she watched Jungwon flip through his notes. “Bet he’s never even held a girl’s hand.��

You snickered behind your palm. “Held? I bet he’d pass out if a girl even looked at him for too long.”

It wasn’t personal. It was harmless, you told yourself. Jungwon was just…so easy to tease. Always so quiet, so polite, so desperately nerdy. He wore khaki pants for god’s sake. Khakis. In high school.

Sometimes you’d catch him sneaking glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking—soft, wide-eyed stares, like he couldn’t believe you were real. It only made it funnier. You’d smile sweetly at him on purpose, wave too enthusiastically, lean a little too close when asking him a question during group projects, just to watch his face flush scarlet and his glasses fog up.

The poor boy was so easy to break.

And you weren’t the only one who noticed. Your whole group kind of adopted it as a game at this point: how fast could you fluster Jungwon? How pink could you get his cheeks? How many stuttered responses could you collect like trophies?

“He’s like…a pet,” your other friend Minji whispered one time after a pop quiz. You had just tapped Jungwon’s shoulder and thanked him (loudly) for “helping you study”—which he hadn’t—and the boy had practically short-circuited on the spot. “Like a little lost puppy.”

You’d laughed then, flipping your hair over your shoulder, feeling every bit the queen bee you were supposed to be. Jungwon was safe. Harmless. He wasn’t like the cocky jocks or the bad boys you flirted with sometimes—he was soft, easy to control, easy to tease.

Or at least…that’s what you thought.

Until one afternoon, everything changed.

You were sitting at your desk, lazily twirling a pen between your fingers, when you felt a shadow fall across your table. You looked up, blinking.

It was Jungwon.

He stood stiffly in front of you, clutching a neatly organized folder to his chest like a shield. His blonde hair was slightly messy today, a few strands falling across his forehead. His glasses slipped down his nose a little, and he pushed them up nervously with one finger.

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Lost, Jungwon?”

He opened his mouth like he was about to say something—but then stopped, his throat bobbing with a hard swallow. His hands fidgeted against the folder, knuckles white from how tightly he gripped it. You could see the tips of his ears turning red.

Cute.

“I, uh…” He coughed lightly, adjusting his glasses again. “I…thought you might need help. For the chemistry assignment. Since…you asked…before.”

You blinked.

You hadn’t actually asked him for help—you’d teased him about it, sure, but it was all in good fun. You were popular, and smart enough to get by without tutoring from the class nerd. But now, standing there in front of you, Jungwon looked so serious. So determined, despite how nervous he clearly was.

You could feel Minji and Hana watching from across the room, barely containing their laughter. You gave them a quick glance—watch this—before turning back to Jungwon with your most dazzling smile.

“That’s sweet, Jungwon,” you said, voice dripping honey. “You’re worried about me?”

He flushed deeper, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “I just…you seemed like you might…um…need help.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to hold back a laugh. God, he was so easy.

Leaning forward on your elbows, you rested your chin in your hand and looked up at him through your lashes. “Are you offering to be my private tutor?”

His lips parted slightly, like the words got stuck in his throat. His glasses fogged a little again. “I—uh—I guess. If you want.”You smiled wider, loving the way his voice shook.

“Aw,” you cooed mockingly, loud enough for your friends to hear. “You’re so sweet, Jungwon. Are you always this nice to girls who bully you?”

Behind you, Hana snickered into her hand.

For a moment, Jungwon didn’t say anything. He just stood there, folder clutched tight to his chest, face burning. His eyes flickered to your mouth for a second—so quick you almost missed it—and then dropped to the floor again.

You tilted your head, smirking. So predictable.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” you added, voice low enough that only he could hear it. “Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll let you buy me coffee after tutoring too.”

He said nothing. Just nodded stiffly, turned on his heel, and practically fled to the other side of the room.

You and your friends broke into giggles immediately.

“Poor thing’s gonna have a heart attack,” Minji whispered, wiping a tear from her eye. “Y/N, you’re evil.”

You smiled lazily, twirling your pen again. It was just harmless fun. Jungwon would never do anything about it. He was too shy, too sweet.

He’d stay quiet. Like he always did.

…Right?

You didn’t think about it much when you got the text later that day.

[unknown number]: you forgot your textbook. rm 3b.

[unknown number]: i can bring it if u want.

You stared at the messages, confused for a second—until you realized it had to be Jungwon. Of course it was. Who else would be that polite about a stupid forgotten book?

You texted back a half-hearted ok, already smirking to yourself. God, he’s desperate, you thought. He was really going out of his way for you now. It was almost pathetic.

You made your way to Room 3B after the last bell, the hallway practically deserted. Most people had already left for the day, leaving only the low hum of distant footsteps and the occasional squeak of sneakers on tile.

When you pushed open the door, the room was dim, the late afternoon sun spilling in long, golden streaks across the floor.

And there he was.

Jungwon stood by your desk, your chemistry textbook in hand, head bowed slightly. His blonde hair caught the light, making it look almost soft around the edges. He wasn’t wearing his blazer anymore—just the white button-up, the sleeves pushed up a little—and it made him look…different. More casual. More real.

You stepped inside lazily, the door clicking shut behind you.

“Wow,” you teased lightly, crossing your arms. “You really take your job as my tutor seriously, huh?”

He didn’t laugh.

Didn’t even smile.

He just looked up at you—and for the first time, you noticed something different in his eyes. Something that made your skin prickle a little.

He wasn’t nervous.

Not anymore.

“You forgot this,” he said simply, voice low and even.

You walked closer, letting your bag slide off your shoulder onto a chair. “Thanks, Professor Jungwon,” you joked, reaching for the book.

But instead of handing it to you, he held onto it—just out of reach.

You frowned. “What are you doing?”

For a second, he just looked at you, head tilted slightly like he was studying something.

Then he smiled.

Not the shy, awkward smile you were used to.

No, this one was slower. Lazier. A smile that knew things. Dangerous things.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” he said, voice still light but edged with something sharper underneath. “Messing with me. Laughing at me with your little friends.”

You blinked, heart skipping once, confused. This wasn’t…this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

“I mean…” you said slowly, trying to summon that same teasing tone. “Maybe a little?”

Jungwon stepped closer.

You instinctively backed up—only to feel the desk press against the backs of your thighs.

You opened your mouth to say something else—to crack another joke, maybe, to turn the moment back into something safe—but before you could, he set the textbook down carefully on the desk beside you.

And caged you in with both hands, palms flat against the wood.

You stared up at him, breath caught.

His eyes, usually so soft, were burning now. Sharp and focused, like he was seeing right through you. His body was so close you could feel the heat rolling off him, suffocating, dizzying.

“You think you can just say whatever you want to me,” he said softly, so close you could feel his breath fan across your lips. “Laugh at me. Flirt with me. Make me look like a fool.”

You swallowed hard, every nerve in your body standing on end.

“I—It was just a joke,” you said quickly, but your voice wavered.

Another slow, dangerous smile.

“Yeah?” he murmured. “Well, here’s the thing, Y/N.”

He leaned down, mouth brushing your ear.

“I’m done being the joke.”

You froze, your whole body tensing, but Jungwon didn’t give you any time to think.

One hand slid from the desk to your waist, fingers digging in just hard enough to make you gasp. He pressed his body closer, chest against yours, so you could feel just how much bigger and stronger he really was.

“You’re so loud usually,” he whispered, voice smooth and dark against your ear. “Where’s all that attitude now, huh?”

You squirmed, but it only made him grip you tighter, pinning your hips against the desk.

“You thought you were in control,” he murmured, dragging the tip of his nose down the side of your throat, inhaling like he could smell your fear. “Laughing with your friends. Acting like you were better than me.”

You whimpered—quiet and unintentional—and he chuckled low in his chest.

“Not so funny now, is it?”

Slowly, torturously slow, he trailed his hand up your side, brushing under the hem of your shirt, fingertips feather-light against your bare skin. Your breath hitched, and he smiled against your neck.

“You like this,” he said quietly, almost like he was marveling at the realization. “You like when I’m mean to you.”

You shook your head automatically, but Jungwon just laughed again, dark and soft.

“Liar.”

He tilted your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to look at him.

His eyes were molten now, dark and hungry, and you shivered under the weight of his stare.

“I should make you beg,” he whispered, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth. “Make you apologize for being such a little brat.”

Your lips parted, desperate to say something—anything—but no words came out.

“You gonna be good for me now?” he asked, almost gently, dragging his thumb slowly across your bottom lip. “Or do I have to teach you a lesson?

You whimpered again, nodding weakly.

His smile widened, all sharp teeth and dangerous promise.

“Good girl.”

Without warning, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you up onto the desk, spreading your legs with his knees. The sudden movement made you squeak, grabbing onto his shoulders for balance, but he didn’t let you go—he loomed over you, hands gripping your waist possessively, like he owned you.

“Show me,” Jungwon said, voice so soft it barely made a sound. “Get on your knees.”

You blinked up at him, heart racing, and whispered back without thinking, “W-What?”

He just stared down at you, unblinking, fingers tightening at your waist like a warning.

“On your knees,” he repeated, firmer now, and when you hesitated for half a second longer, he grabbed your chin and guided you down slowly, almost gentle, until your knees hit the floor with a quiet thud against the carpet.

“Jungwon…” you whispered again, voice small, but he didn’t budge.

He tilted your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Pretty,” he murmured. “So pretty when you’re quiet.”

You bit your lip, cheeks burning, and breathed out shakily, “I-I don’t know what you want me to do…”

A small, dangerous smile played on his lips. “You’ll figure it out.”

With slow, deliberate movements, he unbuckled his belt, the soft clink making your stomach twist in anticipation. You couldn’t look away—couldn’t even think—your mouth already watering slightly as he tugged his jeans down just enough, freeing his cock, hard and thick and leaking at the tip.

You whimpered, staring, and your thighs instinctively pressed together.

“You want it, don’t you?” he whispered, thumb brushing against your bottom lip.

You nodded frantically, voice barely a breath. “Y-Yeah… I want it.”

“Then open up,” he ordered, and his voice was so calm it made your whole body shudder.

You parted your lips obediently, heart thundering, and he slid the tip against your tongue, teasing you slowly, making you feel every inch.

“Good girl,” he praised in a low growl. “Keep those pretty eyes on me.”

You whimpered again, looking up at him through your lashes, desperate to make him proud, desperate for him to keep saying those things to you.

“You’re so good, Jungwon,” you whispered around him, voice muffled and needy.

A dark flush colored his cheeks at your praise, but he didn’t let up, sliding deeper with slow, shallow thrusts, one hand threading into your hair to hold you there.

“That’s it,” he murmured, hips rocking slowly. “Such a good little mouth… made for me.”

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes from the stretch, but you forced yourself to stay still, to let him use you like he wanted. You wanted it. You wanted him.

“You look so good like this,” he breathed. “Bet you never thought you’d end up on your knees for me, huh?”

You whined around him, the humiliation and heat rushing through your body too much to handle.

“Didn’t know you’d be so mean,” you managed to mumble out when he pulled back a little, your voice wrecked and breathless.

He chuckled lowly, thumb brushing away a tear that slid down your cheek.

“You have no idea what I’m capable of, baby,” he whispered.

You nodded, so desperate, so wrecked already. “Please…” you whimpered. “Please, Jungwon… I want you…”

His jaw flexed, his control visibly snapping.

“Fuck,” he muttered, hips jerking forward as he pushed deeper into your mouth, making you choke slightly.

You pulled back with a gasp, panting, and he immediately stroked your hair gently, calming you.

“Shh. You’re doing so good, pretty girl,” he praised. “You’re perfect.”

You looked up at him, tears in your lashes, spit glistening on your lips.

“I want to be good for you,” you said, voice wobbling.

“You already are,” he whispered, dragging his cock slowly across your tongue again.

You shivered, feeling your whole body light up at his words.

He tightened his grip in your hair, sliding himself back into your mouth with slow, deliberate thrusts, using you like he had every right to.

And you let him. Whimpering, obeying, looking up at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

Because he owned you now. And you didn’t want it any other way.

You barely had time to catch your breath before Jungwon yanked you up from the floor, strong hands gripping your waist and shoving you back against the couch. His body pressed flush against yours, caging you in.

“You’re not done,” he muttered, voice low and dark in your ear. “I’m not done.”

You whimpered, nodding without even thinking, your thighs squeezing together at the way he looked at you — like he was starving and you were the only thing he could eat.

He grabbed your chin roughly, tilting your head up so you couldn’t look away from him. His eyes, usually so soft and sunny, were blown wide and black with hunger.

“Look at you,” he whispered, breath hot against your cheek. “Already fucked out and I haven’t even gotten started.”

You tried to say something—tried to beg—but he didn’t give you the chance. In one swift movement, he manhandled you onto the couch, forcing you onto your back, and tugged your panties down your legs without ceremony.

“Spread those legs for me, pretty,” he murmured, voice steady but ragged with want.

You did, shakily, heart pounding so hard you could barely breathe.

He tugged his jeans down just enough, cock hard and leaking, and lined himself up without warning. You felt the blunt, thick head of him pressing against your entrance, and your breath caught.

“You ready?” he rasped.

You nodded desperately, nails digging into the cushions.

“Use your words,” he ordered, tapping the inside of your thigh sharply.

“Please,” you gasped out. “Please, Jungwon, I want it—need it—”

That was all he needed.

He slammed into you in one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt, and you screamed — high-pitched and choked, the stretch overwhelming. Your whole body arched off the couch at the sudden, merciless intrusion.

“Fuck, so tight,” he hissed through gritted teeth, holding himself still for a second, letting you feel every inch of him. “Feels too good. Gonna fuck you so stupid, baby.”

You sobbed, legs trembling around his hips, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes.

He didn’t give you time to adjust. He pulled out halfway and slammed back in hard enough to make the couch creak beneath you. Again. Again. Hard and deep and punishing, every thrust knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“You wanted to tease me?” he grunted, voice still soft and deadly in your ear. “Wanted to be a brat in front of your little friends?”

You nodded frantically, whimpering, barely coherent under the relentless pace.

“Bet you don’t feel so cocky now, huh?” he whispered, punctuating every word with another deep thrust.

You tried to answer but all that came out was a broken moan.

He chuckled low under his breath, slowing down just enough to drag himself out painfully slow before slamming back in to the hilt, making you cry out.

You didn’t even realize you were crying until he licked a tear off your cheek and murmured, “Poor thing. Too much?”

You shook your head wildly, clinging to him.

He kept going until your whole body was trembling, until your nails carved angry red lines down his back, until you were sobbing his name like it was the only word you knew.

Finally, when your legs gave out completely and you sagged into the cushions, he slowed. His hands gentled, cradling you.

Wordlessly, he pulled you into his lap, your thighs straddling his hips. His cock still heavy and hard between your legs, pressed against your soaked folds.

He cupped your face in both hands, smoothing your hair back, and kissed you so softly it almost hurt. You whimpered into his mouth, desperate for him.

“You still want it?” he whispered against your lips.

“Yes,” you breathed, voice wrecked and trembling. “Please.”

He guided you down onto him slowly this time, letting you feel every thick inch stretch you open again.

You gasped, clinging to his shoulders, tears brimming in your lashes again from the slow, aching fullness.

“That’s it,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Take all of it. You’re doing so good.”

He rocked you on his cock gently, holding you close, whispering filthy things in your ear the whole time.

“Feel how deep I am, baby? You were made for this… made for me to fuck you like this.”

You whimpered, biting his shoulder to muffle your sobs of pleasure as he guided your hips, slow and deep and overwhelming.

“Never teasing me again,” he whispered, smiling against your hair. “Not unless you want this.”

You nodded desperately, grinding down against him, so full you could barely think.

“You’re mine to fuck,” he murmured, dragging his cock against that sensitive spot inside you, making you jolt in his lap. “Mine to ruin.”

You came apart in his arms, sobbing his name into his shoulder, shaking and gasping. He held you through it, never stopping, whispering praise into your ear until you completely fell apart.

And when he finally followed, spilling deep inside you with a low groan, he didn’t move away.

He just held you, rocking you gently in his lap, brushing kisses across your temple, your jaw, your mouth.

Like he hadn’t just broken you completely.

Like he was never gonna let you go.

The next morning, you could still feel it — a dull, delicious ache between your thighs with every step you took. Your body was sore, your neck littered with faint bruises you tried—and failed—to cover with makeup, and your heart raced every time you even thought about Jungwon.

Which was a problem. Because you were sitting across from him in class, and he kept sneaking little glances at you from behind his glasses, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips whenever your eyes met.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, clenching your thighs together under the desk, cheeks burning.

“What’s up with you?” one of your friends whispered, elbowing you in the side during lecture.

“Huh? N-nothing,” you stammered, staring down at your notes so hard the lines blurred together.

Another girl leaned over. “Why do you look like you just ran a marathon?”

“I don’t,” you protested weakly, adjusting your jacket to hide the faint purple marks blooming down your throat.

They weren’t convinced.

“You’re acting weird,” the first girl said, wrinkling her nose. “Like…all shy and jumpy. Did something happen?”

“No,” you said too quickly, glancing instinctively at Jungwon.

You caught him looking again — but this time, he didn’t look away. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, slow and deliberate, and your stomach flipped.

Oh god.

Your friends caught that look.

They turned, following your gaze, and their jaws dropped.

“Wait. No freaking way,” one of them whispered, half-laughing. “You’re into him?!”

“I—” You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

The other girl snorted. “Since when do you like nerds?”

You shrank into your seat, wishing the floor would swallow you whole. Especially when Jungwon leaned back in his chair casually, spreading his thighs just a little wider under the desk — like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

You swallowed hard, pulse hammering in your throat.

“Bet he’s not that nerdy when he’s alone with her,” one of your friends joked under her breath, laughing.

Your face flamed.

And across the room, Jungwon smiled lazily at you, like a wolf who knew his prey wasn’t going anywhere.

prompt request list

[monogamia]

not me haunting your asks in every single blog you own 😈 sooo, do you write parents!au? bc I wanted to request some scenario abt how sylus, caleb and xavier would react to their kids telling u to shut up. I KNOW ITS WEIRD BUT ITS A OLD TREND I THINK?? anyway, love ya babe 💘💋💋

੭⠀ A little prank.

⋆⠀AUTHOR'S NOTES: I love parents!au so much 😭

⋆⠀FEATURING: Xavier, Sylus, Caleb.

⋆⠀WARNING: English is not my first language, so it may contain some mistakes.

Your son’s favorite pastime was annoying his father, and he was certainly better at it than anyone else. Not only that, but he also managed to convince you to help with yet another one of his… pranks.

The boy smiled when he saw his father heading to the kitchen and turned back to his video game. Not long after, you walked into the room with something in hand. “Sweetheart, could you take this—”

“Shut up, mom,” he tried to say in an irritated tone, but a smile was plastered across his face.

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀XAVIER

Not even five seconds had passed before your son was groaning in pain, Xavier’s slipper lying on the couch beside him after hitting the back of his head squarely. “Dad—”

Xavier raised the other slipper, pointing it at the boy. “Apologize. Now,” he said, his eyebrows furrowing. “Is that any way to talk to your mother?”

“But I was busy, and she—” Once again, the boy didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, the other slipper flying straight at him. Xavier crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on his son.

You widened your eyes and placed a hand on your husband’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “Okay, okay, it was a… joke, just a prank.”

Xavier gave a faint smirk, glancing at you. “…Yeah, I knew that.” He pulled you into a hug, sticking his tongue out at your son. “You think I’d stop at that if I saw him disrespecting you like that?”

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀SYLUS

Sylus prided himself on being an exemplary father. He was patient, fun—or so he thought—and wealthy. I mean, surely his son was already having a better childhood than most people who came from the same place Sylus had, right?

And perhaps it was exactly that freedom and comfort in his presence that made the boy feel confident enough to make that kind of joke.

“I must’ve misheard. Definitely,” Sylus said loud enough for both of you to hear. You turned away so he wouldn’t see your expression, while your son simply grimaced.

“Dad, she could’ve just asked one of my uncles to go—or, I don’t know, gone herself!” the boy said, spinning the pieces of a pistol between his fingers.

Sylus’s steps were almost inaudible; it was as if he had teleported to his son’s side. He crossed his arms, an irritated expression on his face. His son had never seen that look before—at least, not directed at him.

“Don’t you dare talk to your mother like that under this roof,” he said. “I don’t care if she could’ve asked someone else—if she tells you to do something, you do it. She brought you into this world.”

The boy couldn’t hold back his laughter, bursting out in hysterics. Your husband opened his mouth to say something but stopped when he saw you laughing as well. He let out a sigh, rubbing his face. “You too now?”

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀CALEB

Honestly, your son was expecting Caleb to yell at him or chase after him, but it was even more terrifying to see him stay silent, slowly turning to face the boy.

He froze, setting the video game controller down on the coffee table. Caleb’s eyes stayed fixed on him, and his silence lingered just long enough to make the boy shift uncomfortably under the stare.

When Caleb finally spoke, his voice was strangely calm—and that wasn’t exactly a good thing. “You have five seconds to do as your mother said and come back here, and another five to apologize and explain yourself.”

You let out an awkward laugh before wrapping your arms around your husband. “It was just a joke, I swear.” Caleb glanced at you, slipping a hand under your shirt to give you a pinch. “Ouch! It was his idea!”

He rolled his eyes but let out a relieved laugh, despite his irritation with your newfound way of spending free time. “I should’ve known.”

[wonwunss]

–ᝰ.ᐟ✮ When Jeonghan panics and lies to his family about being in a long-term relationship, he only knows one person reckless enough to go along with it: you, his grumpy new neighbor who barely tolerates him. Now, you’re stuck on a weekend family trip, pretending to be the doting girlfriend of a man who once labeled his oat milk with a death threat.

The problem? You’re too good at pretending.

From shared rooms to fake backstories, suspicious siblings and lingering touches, the line between fake and real starts to blur… and neither of you are ready for what that means.

pairing: jeonghan x f!reader

genre: fake dating, enemies to lovers (but like.. flirty enemies), forced proximity, one bed, mutual pining (slow burn edition), romance, domestic fluff in disguise, idiots in love—literally

word count: 2.1k

a/n: my other jeonghan fic did so well, my shayla 😪😭so here’s another teasing jeonghan (maybe teasing jeonghan is up you guys alley🤪😛) anywaysss leaving it with a cliffhanger ending whilst i know what happens next 😈😈

“You’re kidding,” you said flatly.

Across the passenger seat of the very full, very overpacked family van, Yoon Jeonghan had the audacity to grin like this was all part of some grand master plan.

“Look, I didn’t think they’d actually ask to meet you, okay? It was just—my mom was getting nosy, and I panicked.”

“So your first instinct was to lie about having a girlfriend?”

“Not a lie,” he said, far too casual. “A preemptive relationship announcement.”

You scoffed. “With who?”

“Well, you live across the hall, and we already bicker like a married couple.”

“Because you steal my laundry slots and label your milk passive-aggressively!”

“And yet,” he said, adjusting his sunglasses with flair, “here you are, coming on a weekend family trip to save my ass.”

You glared at him. “Only because you bribed me with three months’ worth of your mailroom favors and cleaning up after your nightmare cat.”

“She’s not a nightmare. She’s emotionally complex.”

“She bit me.”

“Love bite.”

You opened your mouth to argue but were interrupted by his mom in the front seat turning back to you, beaming. “We’re so happy you could come, sweetheart! You’ve been dating our Jeonghan for over a year and we’ve never met you! Can you believe it?”

You smiled, the tight, polite kind. “Yeah. Time really flies when you’re in… love.”

Jeonghan tried not to laugh beside you. You jabbed your elbow into his side.

The cabin was cute.

Cozy.

Charming.

And had one bed.

You stood in the doorway, staring at the neatly made queen-size mattress that absolutely screamed “good luck, suckers.”

“Absolutely not,” you said.

“What?” Jeonghan walked in behind you, setting his duffel down with a dramatic sigh. “They think we’re together. Do you want to blow the whole thing up now?”

You turned to him. “Then you sleep on the floor.”

He blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You got us into this mess. I’m not sleeping on the damn floor.”

He raised a brow, arms crossing. “Do I look like someone who can survive a hardwood situation? I’m delicate.”

You pointed at the floor. “Delicate your way down there.”

But he just grinned, the kind that was all cheek and absolutely no remorse. He spread his arms wide like he was announcing a magic trick.

“It’s an adventure, darling.”

You rolled your eyes. “Congrats. In this adventure, you’re sleeping on the floor.”

The cabin creaked in the dark. Somewhere in the distance, a cricket chirped like it had a personal vendetta against your ears. The faint hum of Jeonghan’s mom watching a late-night drama drifted through the walls, barely audible.

And then—just loud enough to drive you insane—

Rustle.

Rustle.

You groaned. “Are you trying to be loud?”

Across the room, from the sad little nest of blankets and throw pillows he’d dramatically built on the floor, Jeonghan’s voice floated back at you.

“I’m adjusting my spine for optimal survival. You know, since I’ve been banished from the comfort of the bed.”

“You’re lucky you’re still breathing.”

“You’re lucky I have impeccable restraint,” he muttered.

You turned onto your side, scowling into the darkness. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I was forced to fake-date my neighbor because of a single panic lie. Forgive me for needing to emotionally process.”

You scoffed. “You’re not processing. You’re fishing.”

“…Did it work?”

“No.”

He exhaled a laugh, low and lazy. Then it was quiet again. For a moment, you thought maybe he’d finally fallen asleep.

Until—

“You… really didn’t have to say yes, you know.”

You blinked at the ceiling.

“I know.”

“I just mean…” His voice was softer now. “You didn’t owe me anything. Especially after the whole… hallway coffee incident.”

You bit back a smile. He remembers the coffee incident?

“You mean when you bumped into me, spilled hot latte all over my skirt, and then had the audacity to ask if I had a towel?”

“I panicked,” he mumbled. “Also, I still stand by the fact that the hallway is too narrow.”

“It’s a normal hallway, Jeonghan. You just have zero spacial awareness.”

Another laugh. This one sounded real.

Silence again.

Then, gently—

“…I didn’t expect you to help me.”

You didn’t answer right away.

Then: “I didn’t expect you to say ‘please.’”

He was quiet for a long moment. Long enough that you thought he might be asleep.

And then— “…Can I ask something?”

You turned to face his direction, even though you couldn’t see him. “What?”

His voice was small, almost teasing. “On a scale of one to ten… how convincing do you think we are as a couple?”

You hesitated. “…like… six.”

“SIX?” he cried in a whisper. “That’s barely passing!”

You grinned. “Maybe if you didn’t look so smug every time I touch your arm.”

“I do not— okay, fine, but you laughed when I kissed your cheek earlier!”

“You missed! You kissed my ear!”

A beat.

“…Right. Yeah. Six. Fair.”

And then—quiet laughter.

Yours.

Then his.

And before either of you knew it, the silence that followed didn’t feel so awkward anymore.

It just… was.

Two strangers.

Two liars.

Two people figuring out how to fall asleep in the same room without falling apart.

You stared up at the ceiling, sleep nowhere in sight. Your pillow was slightly too soft, the room slightly too warm, and your fake boyfriend slightly too annoying.

“Hey,” you whispered.

Jeonghan’s voice floated back from the floor, muffled and suspicious. “What.”

“Can we go over our ‘how we started dating’ story? Again. Just in case anyone asks tomorrow.”

There was a dramatic sigh. Fabric rustled.

“Seriously?” he groaned. “It’s a family trip, not an interrogation.”

“Yes, seriously,” you snapped quietly. “Your sister already asked how long we’d been together. What if someone wants details?”

“I gave you the details.”

“You gave me concept art, Jeonghan. You gave me vibes.”

Another dramatic sigh.

“Fine,” he muttered, like it was the greatest burden of his life to clean up his own mess. “Okay, so… we tell them it started after you tripped down the stairs, right?”

Your face immediately contorted in disbelief. “I’m sorry—what?”

“And I caught you at the bottom,” he continued, completely unfazed, “like a scene straight out of a drama. Your hair was glowing, the light behind you was all soft and golden, and you looked at me like I’d just saved your life.”

“I looked at you like I had a concussion.”

“Exactly! The impact of love.”

You blinked at the ceiling. “You want me to tell your entire family I fell in love with you because you caught me falling down a staircase?”

“Do you hear how good that sounds?”

“It sounds like I have zero standards and you have a hero complex.”

Jeonghan rolled over with a groan, now half-visible from the floor. “Fine. We’ll say it happened when I helped you carry your groceries up to your apartment.”

“That’s actually not bad.”

“And then I leaned against your doorframe all charming and irresistible—”

“Nope. There it is.”

“—and you said, ‘Wow, no man has ever carried my oat milk so tenderly before.’”

You flung your pillow at him. It hit the floor with a thump.

He laughed, low and pleased with himself. “Admit it. You’d fall for me.”

“Fall on you, maybe. Just to knock you out.”

“Romance.”

“Delusion.”

He smirked, voice trailing off into the dark. “I think you’re enjoying this fake dating thing a little too much.”

You turned back to your side, blanket pulled over your shoulder. “I think you’re confusing ‘enjoying’ with ‘surviving your dumbassery.’”

Silence fell for a moment.

Then—

“…Oat milk though. That was a good line.”

You threw the spare pillow next.

You woke to the sound of someone knocking—not on the door, but on your brain cells.

Jeonghan’s voice cut through the early light like a dull blade. “They’re making pancakes.”

“Why are you talking like that’s urgent news?”

“Because they’ll think we’re having morning couple time if we don’t show up soon.”

You sat up, hair wild, blanket wrapped around your shoulders like a cloak of regret. “I should’ve let you sleep on the porch.”

Jeonghan, already dressed and way too smug for 8AM, only winked.

When you stepped into the kitchen together, his hand found your lower back automatically. Warm. Light. Familiar.

You didn’t think about it. Until you did.

His sister, who was cutting fruit at the counter, didn’t miss a thing. Her eyes narrowed. “Well, well, well. Look who finally woke up.”

You smiled. The kind that didn’t reach your eyes. “We took our time. You know. Jeonghan’s a cuddler.”

He choked. “I—I am not.”

She gasped, mock horror on her face. “Jeonghan? Touchy? In the morning?”

“He mumbled in his sleep,” you said sweetly. “Called me his ‘oat milk angel.’”

He stared at you like you had personally just ended his whole career.

“I did not.”

“You did too. I was touched. Emotionally.”

His sister was cackling now. “I can’t believe this. My brother’s in love.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes and grabbed a banana from the counter in retaliation. “We’re not doing this.”

“Oh, we are. We are absolutely doing this.” She pointed her knife dramatically. “Because you’ve never brought anyone home before. This is like watching a rare animal leave its den after twenty-seven years.”

You turned to him, mock-offended. “You told me I was special.”

“I did not say that.”

“Wow. First he forgets our anniversary, now this.”

You pouted, and for dramatic flair, he reached for your hand, dramatically clutching it with two hands like he was repenting for a sin he did not commit.

“My love,” he said solemnly, “forgive me. I shall make it up to you by massaging your shoulders later.”

“I demand breakfast in bed.”

“I’ll hand-feed you grapes.”

You snorted.

His sister stared between the two of you, suspicious. “You’re both awful actors.”

Jeonghan raised a brow. “Says who?”

She gestured with her fruit knife. “Says my intuition. And the fact that your hand’s still holding hers even though that whole bit ended a full thirty seconds ago.”

Your stomach fluttered.

Jeonghan let go like he’d been burned. “Oh.”

“Oh,” you echoed, barely above a whisper.

But it was too late.

The feeling had already curled somewhere in your chest.

Because his hand had been warm. His thumb had rubbed circles without thinking. You hadn’t wanted to pull away.

You looked at him.

He looked at you.

And something was there.

Not loud. Not obvious.

But there.

It started with Jeonghan’s mom saying, “We’re out of eggs,” and ended with the two of you in a cozy little convenience store five minutes from the cabin, pretending you weren’t sharing one brain cell and an alarming amount of chemistry.

You held the basket. He pushed the cart even though you only needed two things.

“Should’ve just made your mom send one of your siblings,” you muttered, scanning the shelves.

“Yeah, but then who would I fake domestic bliss with?” he said, casually tossing in a bottle of your favorite drink. You blinked at it. “What? I’ve seen you drink it, like, five times this month.”

“…Stalker.”

He grinned. “Observant.”

You stopped in front of the ramen section, head tilted. “They have your spicy one.”

He reached over your shoulder, grabbing the exact brand without hesitation. “We’ll get two. I’ll make it for you tomorrow.”

You stared at him.

“What?” he asked, shrugging. “Fake boyfriend duties. Let me cook for you so my parents continue to believe I’m a gift to the earth.”

You rolled your eyes and turned toward the snack aisle.

But your heart was… beating a little weird.

It didn’t help that somewhere between “we need eggs” and “ooh they have strawberry Pocky,” Jeonghan’s hand had somehow ended up on the small of your back again.

Like it belonged there.

Like it fit.

You tried not to think about it.

At checkout, he handed over his card before you could pull out yours.

“Jeonghan.”

“Relax, sugarplum. It’s like, $11. I can afford our fake life together.”

You shoved him lightly as the cashier laughed under her breath. He winked.

The walk back was quiet. But not uncomfortable. At one point, your fingers brushed. He didn’t pull away. And neither did you.

Back at the cabin, his mom peeked into the bag.

“Got everything?”

Jeonghan nodded. “Yep. Even her favorite drink.”

She smiled, just a little too knowingly. “You’re already acting like an old married couple.”

You opened your mouth to protest.

But Jeonghan beat you to it.

With the softest, most dangerous smile he’s ever worn—

“We’ve had practice.”

Your stomach flipped. Your fingers curled around the strap of the bag just to ground yourself.

Because god help you—

you weren’t sure where the lies ended anymore.

[mrsvante]

Honorably Discharged

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: idol au, established relationship, pfp

summary: he served his country. now he’s coming home to you. eighteen months of distance. eighteen months of longing, discipline, and denial. but no amount of time, no uniform, no public ceremony can restrain him once he sees you again.

warnings: military discharge, dom!taehyung, oral for everyone, fingering, desperation, devotion & downright destruction 😈, degradation, overstimulation, mirror sex, fluffy aftercare

word count: 4,480

a note from our sponsors 💁🏽‍♀️: sooo i prepared a drabble for each of the boys in honor of them completing their military service. i might add one for jin & hoseok at a later date. but hope you enjoy!!

WE ARE BACK 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜✨

The cameras were a blur. A white hot flash here, a reporter’s question there—none of it mattered.

Not really.

Taehyung bowed when expected, smiled when they asked. Nodded solemnly, let his gaze linger on the crowd like he was soaking it all in, like he was basking in this ceremonious farewell. But it was all muscle memory at this point. Empty performance.

The ache in his jaw from forcing that gentle smile didn’t come close to the throb in his chest. Every second dragged. Every cheer, every congratulation, every prescripted word he uttered to the press, useless.

He didn’t want to be here.

He wanted to be inside you.

He shouldn’t be thinking like this, not with cameras pointed at him, but fuck if he could help it. Eighteen months. Eighteen months of discipline, suppression, polite nods, and wet dreams in the dark. No amount of self control could erase what the sight of your name on an envelope or the sound of your voice over the phone did to him. No picture or voice note was enough. You weren’t real to him until you were underneath him again.

He exhaled slowly, blinking through the final press call before murmuring, “Thank you,” one last time. His manager’s hand landed on his shoulder. Time to go.

The SUV was idling at the curb, dark tinted, familiar. But it wasn’t the car he saw.

It was you inside it.

He didn’t walk. He stalked toward the vehicle like something feral, the uniform on his back a barely there leash around a beast that had waited far too long.

The back door swung open and there you were. Eyes wide, lip caught between your teeth, nervous and glowing. And before you could even say his name he was on you.

His arms caged you in, his scent all clean soap and masculine spice from the base. His lips crushed yours, tongue prying into your mouth like he meant to stay there.

The kiss wasn’t sweet. It was starved. A collision. No finesse, just hunger.

You whimpered against him, fingers tangled in his beret as he growled into your mouth. His hand found your jaw, held you steady as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, hips rolling once, hard, against yours like he couldn’t help himself.

“Tae,” you breathed, barely coherent. “We’re in public…”

The words hit like a splash of cold water.

Taehyung froze, eyes still closed, breath ragged as he pulled back just enough to look at you. Your lipstick was smudged, your lips swollen, and he wanted to ruin you. Right here. Right now.

But he nodded, jaw clenched so tight it ached. “Get me home,” he rasped. “Right now.”

—

The moment the front door clicked behind him, he snapped.

You’d barely kicked your shoes off when he was on you again—gripping, kissing, unbuttoning with frantic hands like your clothes had personally offended him. You laughed at first, breathless and warm against his mouth, but the sound melted into a moan when his teeth scraped your collarbone.

“Don’t laugh,” he whined, dragging the hem of your top up over your head and tossing it somewhere behind him. “Not when I’m two seconds away from fucking losing it.”

You reached for his uniform jacket, but he slapped your hands away, growling against your skin, “No. Let me. Been thinking about this too long to rush it.”

His fingers trembled as they popped each button down your front, exposing your bra. Then he paused. Just long enough to look at you.

His lips parted. A guttural sound escaped.

“Fuck… You’re unreal.”

Your hands went to his belt, but he dropped to his knees before you could finish.

You gasped. “Tae—”

“No,” he said, voice wrecked, eyes wild. “You don’t get to speak right now. Not until you’re crying on my tongue.”

He lifted you, hands cupping your ass as he carried you like you weighed nothing. One arm wrapped around your thighs, the other ripping at the clasp of your bra with brutal urgency. He dropped you onto the plush sectional, and before you could even gather your thoughts, he was tugging your pants down with feverish, jerking movements.

“Spread,” he hissed. “Now.”

You did.

Or maybe your legs fell open on instinct, Taehyung didn’t care. All he saw was your slick, swollen pussy glistening like a reward for every sleepless night. He dropped his head with a shudder, dragging his tongue up the center of your folds with a groan so deep it vibrated through your thighs.

“God, fuck,” he breathed. “I forgot how sweet you taste. No—no, that’s not right. I dreamed about how sweet you taste, and it still didn’t come close.”

His tongue curled against your clit, soft at first, like he was reacquainting himself with his favorite meal. Then he moaned into you, like your cunt was the first real thing he’d had in a year and a half.

You whimpered, hips lifting, but he slammed your thighs back down, arms hooked under your knees to pin you open. “No running,” he growled. “You stay right fucking there.”

He flattened his tongue against your clit and began devouring you. Sucking and licking. Letting his teeth scrape ever so slightly.

“Tae—ohmygod—”

He pulled back only to slap your inner thigh. “Did I tell you to talk?”

You shook your head frantically, eyes wide, chest heaving.

“Didn’t think so.” He slid two fingers into you, slow, and then crooked them just once, and you cried out, hands flying to your face. “That’s right. Be good. Let me hear how much you missed me.”

The wet squelch of his fingers and the obscene slurping of his mouth echoed in the room, but Taehyung didn’t care. He’d waited for this. Earned this. Every groan, every whimper, every flutter of your walls around his fingers, he drank it all in like air.

“You’re dripping, baby,” he whispered, nuzzling against your clit. “You fucking missed me, didn’t you?”

You nodded, a broken sob catching in your throat.

“Say it,” he commanded.

“I missed you—so much—oh my god—Tae—please—”

Your words dissolved into screams as he curved his fingers and sucked hard on your clit in tandem. Your thighs clamped around his head but he only groaned in approval, fucking his fingers deeper, faster, and rougher until your orgasm exploded against his tongue with a wild, keening cry.

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t want to stop.

You were twitching, sobbing, trying to crawl away, but he chased you, fingers still pumping, lips still dragging along your slit. “Thought about this every night,” he panted. “Jerking off in silence, pretending my hand was your pussy. Thinking about how tight you are, how wet you get. Fuck, I’d cum just thinking about you moaning my name.”

“Please, Tae, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can.” He gave you a devilish grin, eyes dark. “You’re gonna come again. And again. Until I say you’re done.”

Your second orgasm crashes through you like a thunderclap moments later. Loud, shattering, inescapable. You sob into the crook of your arm, thighs quaking around Taehyung’s shoulders as he licks you through it, savoring every ripple, every shake of your body against his tongue.

When he finally pulls back, lips shiny with your release, eyes heavy with lust, he looks wrecked. Disheveled. Starved. His jaw flexes as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, staring down at your spread thighs with a look that could peel paint off walls.

“Baby…” His voice cracks. “I can’t—fuck—I need your mouth.”

You’re still gasping, still recovering, brain thick with the fog of your orgasm, but the moment you hear him plead, you blink up at him. Your lips parted, pupils blown, heart stuttering at the desperation in his voice.

“Please,” he rasps, reaching for you. “Come here. On your knees for me. I’ve been thinking about your mouth for months, jagi. Thought about how warm it is, how wet, how you moan around me when I fuck your throat—”

You crawl forward like a woman summoned, limbs still trembling, but your eyes locked on his with feverish intent. Taehyung groans, loud and low, as you sink to your knees in front of him.

“That’s it,” he whispers, eyes fluttering shut for half a second. “That’s my girl. Always so good for me.”

Your fingers reach for his belt, fumbling at first, and he catches your wrists, gently helping you undo the buckle, button, and zipper. His hips already arching into your hands with frantic need. You shove the waistband of his fatigues down, dragging his boxer briefs with them, and…

Fuck.

He springs free, thick and flushed, the tip already leaking. Veins prominent, shaft heavy, twitching like it’s aching for your touch.

“Oh my God,” you breathe, and he laughs—shaky, strained, already panting.

“Don’t say that unless you’re ready to worship,” he groans, thumbing your cheek. “You see what you do to me? Look at me, baby—look what just thinking about your mouth does.”

You wrap your hand around his cock and he nearly crumbles.

“Shit—fuck, fuck, fuck—don’t stop,” he hisses, hips jerking slightly. “Just like that. I’ve been so fucking hard for weeks and had no one to touch me but me. You know how sad that is? Stroking myself in the bunk with your name in my mouth, praying nobody walked in…”

You lick a slow, teasing stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, letting your tongue flick at the bead of precum gathered there.

Taehyung whimpers.

“I swear to God,” he chokes out, “if you don’t let me cum in that pretty mouth, I’ll fucking lose my mind—please.”

You don’t make him wait.

You slide him into your mouth with slow, deliberate intention, inch by inch, feeling the weight of him settle on your tongue like he was always meant to be there. His head falls back immediately with a guttural groan, hands twitching at his sides like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“Oh fuck, yes. Baby… baby, your mouth.”

You bob your head, tongue swirling around the tip every time you pull back, then sinking deeper, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing the moans that tremble from his thighs.

Taehyung tangles his fingers in your hair, just like you want him to. Just like you need him to.

“You want me to fuck your mouth, don’t you?” he pants, hips jerking. “Want me to use you like you’re just a little cock sleeve? My own personal toy?”

You moan around him, and he shudders.

“Fuck—yes, that’s it, take it, take all of it, baby. Deep throat that shit—just like that. My dirty little girl. My good girl. God, you’re so fucking good to me—”

You grab his thighs and relax your throat, taking him deeper, eyes watering slightly from the stretch. He groans again, body trembling, every muscle tense as he fucks shallow, needy thrusts into your mouth.

“Too long,” he gasps. “Too fucking long—I’m gonna—shit—I’m cum, baby, please, don’t stop, don’t stop—please—”

You speed up, moaning around him, fingers fondling his balls with practiced care.

His thighs tremble.

His grip tightens.

Then he breaks.

With a strangled cry, Taehyung throws his head back and explodes into your mouth, hips stuttering, cock pulsing wildly as he spills down your throat. He’s loud, unabashed, panting curses and love like his sanity depends on it.

“Fuckfuckfuck—you’re perfect—I love you, I fucking love you—so good to me—so good—don’t stop, baby, please—”

You suck him through it, letting him fuck your mouth even as he twitches and groans, his thighs quaking, your lips stretched around him like a prayer. When he finally stills, you swallow with a pleased hum and slowly pull back, licking your lips.

Taehyung drops to his knees in front of you, eyes dazed, face flushed, hands cradling your jaw as he crashes his mouth to yours.

“God, I missed you,” he groans against your lips. “You’re so perfect. So fucking perfect. That mouth is gonna ruin me.”

You giggle softly, breathless and swollen, but he’s already hardening again, twitching against your thigh.

And this time, he lifts you into his arms, stands, and carries you toward the bedroom—his voice a dark whisper against your ear.

“Now I’m going to fuck you like I’ve dreamed of every night for the last five hundred days.”

—

He carried you down the hall like a soldier returning from war with his most prized possession.

Because he was. Because you were.

His arms were tight around your waist, your breath ghosting against his neck, your fingers curled weakly into the collar of his uniform as if you knew something primal was about to tear loose.

And it did.

The moment he stepped into the bedroom, Taehyung didn’t hesitate. He tossed you onto the mattress like you weighed nothing, and before you could even blink, he was on you again.

He gripped your hips, flipped you onto your stomach, and shoved your ass up with both hands until your knees sunk into the mattress and your face was buried in the pillows.

Then his mouth found you, and you screamed.

Because his tongue was back on your pussy, and his thumb—God, his thumb—pressed between your cheeks to toy at your other hole like he had every right to touch you there too.

“Stay just like that,” he growled against your folds, voice soaked in heat. “I want to see this pussy shake when you cum.”

You moaned so loud the sound bounced off the walls. He grunted into you, devouring you from behind like he was starving, dragging his tongue from your dripping slit to your clit and back again.

His thumb circled your ass slowly, teasing but never invading with just enough pressure to make you writhe.

“Oh God, Tae—please—oh fuck—please—I can’t—”

“You can,” he growled, tongue flicking ruthlessly over your clit. “You will. Gimme one more, baby. Just one more, I know you can. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

You sobbed into the sheets, nails clawing the mattress. And when his thumb pressed just a little deeper, your whole body snapped.

The orgasm ripped through you. You screamed, trembled, your body jerking as if it didn’t belong to you anymore, and Taehyung just held you there, tongue still working you, sucking every last drop of pleasure until you collapsed into a quivering mess.

He kissed your inner thighs, murmured something obscene you couldn’t even process, then eased you onto your back.

He stood at the edge of the bed, bare and beautiful, cock in hand, pumping himself in long, lazy strokes as he looked down at you like you were salvation incarnate.

“Look at you,” he whispered, eyes glassy, lips parted. “Spread out like this. Shaking. Fuck, baby… you broke for me.”

You blinked up at him, dazed and trembling. “Tae…”

“I love you,” he murmured, voice suddenly soft. “I fucking love you so much, it hurts.”

Then the softness cracked.

He grinned and hissed through his teeth, hand stroking harder. “And I missed this pussy. Missed the way she looks, swollen and dripping. Missed the way she pulses for me. Look at that—look how she’s clenching just from watching me jerk off. You want this cock, baby?”

You nodded, moaning. “Please.”

“Say it.”

“Please, Tae—please fuck me—I need it—I need you.”

That broke him.

He crawled over the bed with the grace of a predator, thick thighs settling between yours as he guided your legs up—one, then the other—over his shoulders. And then he looked down.

“Goddamn,” he whispered, thumbing your clit gently. “This pussy is a fucking dream. Look how swollen she is. How sensitive. She’s crying for me, baby. You see this?”

You cried out, lifting your hips, desperate for him to do something, anything, but he just chuckled darkly.

“You wanna be split open?” he muttered, positioning the head of his cock at your entrance. “Wanna be filled up so deep you feel me in your throat?”

“Yes—yes, Taehyung, please—”

He pushed.

And the sound he made was animal.

“Fuuuuck, you’re tight,” he snarled, hips rolling deeper, slow and brutal. “So wet. So fucking tight—oh my God—”

You screamed again, legs trembling against his shoulders as he sank into you inch by devastating inch, stretching you wide, filling you like you were made to take him.

When he bottomed out, he paused, eyes clenched shut, jaw slack, the veins in his arms straining.

“I’m not gonna last,” he groaned. “I can’t—shit—I’m gonna ruin you, baby. I’m gonna fucking break you.”

He pulled back and slammed forward.

Again.

And again.

Each thrust harder, deeper, filthier than the last. The bedframe rocked. The headboard slammed. Your cries became incoherent, babbling messes of need and praise as Taehyung fucked you with the force of a man trying to make up for every second he spent away.

He gripped your ankles, pressing them into your chest to fold you deeper, watching your pussy swallow his cock over and over again. His breath was ragged, words falling from his mouth in a stream of desperate reverence and filth.

“Mine—this pussy is fucking mine—no one else gets to feel her—no one else gets to make you scream like this—look at me while I fuck you—let me see those eyes—yeah, that’s it—take it, baby—take all of it—”

And God, you did.

Because there was no one else. Nothing else. Just him. Just Taehyung, finally home.

He came hard.

Deep inside you. Warm and pulsing, body bowed over yours, mouth slurred against your neck with half spoken confessions and frantic curses. He stayed there for a moment, still buried in your cunt, still trembling, and overwhelmed by the heat and the stretch and the realness of you.

But then you clenched around him again. So sweet and soft and tight, and it was over.

The blood roared back to his cock. The heat flared like wildfire. And Taehyung couldn’t stop himself.

He lifted his head, hair stuck to his temple with sweat, chest heaving as he whispered hoarsely, “One more.”

You blinked up at him, dazed, wrecked, lips parted as if to protest. But then he pulled out, groaning at the sight of his cum spilling from your swollen pussy, and grabbed your hips again.

“One more,” he repeated, darker this time.

Just let him drag you off the bed, legs weak beneath you, body pliant in his hands. He kissed your shoulder, your spine, the nape of your neck as he guided you to the tall full length mirror standing beside the dresser.

And then he bent you over in front of it.

Taehyung grinned—half feral, half awed—at the reflection before him.

There you were, hair mussed, lips bitten raw, nipples peaked, thighs slick with your cum and his. Your pussy puffy and glistening in the mirror’s reflection.

He almost came again just looking at you.

“Look at you,” he murmured, pressing his body against your back. “So fucking ruined. Look what I did to you.”

You whimpered, hands braced against the mirror, and he chuckled darkly as he reached down between your legs and ran two fingers through your folds.

“Still dripping for me. You’re insatiable, aren’t you?”

Taehyung caught your throat in his other hand and gently tilted your chin toward the mirror.

“Eyes up,” he growled. “You’re gonna watch.”

He slid his fingers up to your clit, circling, teasing, just enough to make your thighs shake. “I want you to see how pretty you look with my cock in you.”

You moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

“No,” he warned, fingers tightening around your throat. “Eyes open, baby. You owe me this. I spent a year and a half jacking off in the barracks like a fucking teenager. You know how many nights I dreamed of this?”

He lined himself up and sank back in with a deep, satisfying thrust, watching in the mirror as your pussy welcomed him greedily.

“Fucking hell,” he gasped. “She’s choking me. She missed me so much, didn’t she?”

You nodded frantically, mouth parted in a broken moan.

Taehyung started slow. Long, deep thrusts, the kind that made you feel every thick inch of him. The kind that forced your eyes to stay locked on the sight of your bodies meeting over and over again. His hand stayed wrapped around your throat, thumb stroking lazily under your chin, while the other worked your clit in firm circles.

Then he leaned down and bit your shoulder. Hard.

You cried out.

“That’s it,” he groaned, licking over the mark. “You like being fucked like this, huh? Bent over, helpless, drooling while I ruin you?”

You tried to speak, but he squeezed your throat and whispered, “Shh. Just nod, jagi.”

You did.

“Good girl,” he praised, picking up his pace.

Skin slapping against skin. Your ass bouncing. His cock disappearing again and again into the wet clutch of your cunt. The mirror fogged from both your breaths.

“I had dreams,” he murmured, voice ragged against your ear. “So many dreams. Dreamed of this pussy. Dreamed of bending you over the supply closet at base. Dreamed of you sneaking into the showers to ride me quietly.”

You moaned, breath hitching.

“But it was never enough,” he snarled. “Woke up hard and aching. Had to jerk off like some desperate fucking loser. Nothing—nothing—came close to this. This pussy? These sounds?” He thrust harder. “This is mine.”

He let go of your throat and grabbed your hair, forcing you to keep watching as he fucked you into the mirror, every muscle in his body straining with effort and lust.

“You see that?” he growled. “You see how good you take it?”

“Taehyung—” you whimpered.

“Say it. Say whose pussy this is.”

“Yours. It’s yours—fuck, Tae—it’s always been yours—”

He lost it.

His rhythm faltered, becoming erratic, brutal. His teeth scraped your shoulder, your neck, his tongue soothing where he bit you raw. His balls slapped against your soaked folds, your arousal smeared across your inner thighs and down your legs.

“You’re perfect,” he moaned, thrusts slamming into you. “So fucking perfect. I’ll never get enough of this. I’ll die with my cock buried in you and still think I didn’t get enough.”

Your walls clenched.

“Oh fuck, you’re close, aren’t you?” he panted. “Gonna cum on me again? Gonna milk my cock like you’re starving for it?”

You sobbed, nails scratching down the mirror.

“Cum for me, baby,” he begged, grip tightening on your hips. “Wanna feel it. Wanna feel that greedy little pussy suck me dry—now—”

You shattered.

And so did he.

With a loud, feral groan, Taehyung buried himself to the hilt and came again, warmth flooding you as you convulsed around him. His body collapsed over yours, chest heaving, mouth open against the slope of your back as he whispered things no soldier would ever dare admit.

“I love you. Missed you so much.”

Your legs gave out the second he pulled out.

You collapsed into his arms, flushed and trembling, your breath shaky, your body spent. And Taehyung didn’t speak—not right away.

He just watched you.

Watched the way you trembled in his hold. The way your fingers curled against his chest like you couldn’t quite let go of reality yet. The marks he’d left along your skin, bites, kisses, and bruises bloomed like secrets only he’d ever be trusted to keep.

His heart ached.

You looked like a dream. A fevered vision of pleasure and surrender. But what stole his breath, what gutted him, was the trust in your exhaustion. The way you gave him everything without fear. Without doubt.

He brushed the damp hair from your face and leaned down, his lips finding your temple in a soft kiss.

“Sweet girl,” he whispered, his voice barely there. “Come back to me.”

You stirred, eyelids fluttering, eyes glazed with the last waves of pleasure.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, thumb stroking your cheek. “You don’t have to do anything. Just let me take care of you now, okay?”

You nodded weakly.

He scooped you into his arms, holding you close. He walked you to the bathroom like he was carrying something holy.

He set you down gently on the edge of the tub while he turned on the shower, testing the temperature with his hand before returning to you, kneeling at your feet.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, fingers brushing the backs of your thighs. “Even now. Especially now.”

He stood and helped you in first, stepping in after you. The water hit your skin in a soft hiss, steam blooming around you both. You leaned against the tile wall, too tired to do anything but exist, but he was already reaching for the body wash, lathering it between his hands.

“I used to imagine this,” he said softly, guiding your body under the spray. “Every night, when the lights went out. I’d close my eyes and pretend I was here. Just like this. In our shower. Holding you. Washing your back.”

His hands moved in gentle circles down your spine, over your shoulders, around your waist.

“I missed you so much it scared me sometimes,” he confessed, voice caught in his throat. “Some nights I’d wake up because I thought I heard you whispering my name. I’d look over at the empty cot next to me and wish it was you. I kept one of your hoodies in my locker. Slept with it under my head. Wore it when no one was around.”

You blinked, eyes glassy.

“I would’ve come home sooner if I could,” he murmured, brushing the soap down your arms, then lacing his fingers through yours to wash your hands. “I counted every day. Every hour. Every fucking second.”

He brought your hands to his mouth, kissed each knuckle, and then reached for your shampoo.

When he lathered your hair, he did it like you were fragile. Like if he pressed too hard, you might vanish again. His fingers massage your scalp slowly, lovingly, and when he rinses it out, he kisses your forehead through the curtain of water.

“You’re it for me,” he whispered. “I don’t care how far I ever have to go again—I’m never spending that long without you. Not ever.”

You turned toward him, leaning into his chest.

His arms wrapped around you immediately, one hand behind your head, the other splayed across your lower back. He held you there beneath the shower for long minutes, letting the water fall over both of you as he rocked you gently side to side.

“I love you,” he murmured against your temple. “You’re everything, jagi.”

You lifted your chin and looked at him, eyes wet but not from the shower.

“I love you too, Tae. So much. I’m so happy you’re home,” you whispered, voice achingly soft.

He kissed you then. Softly, and slow, like he had all the time in the world.

Because now he did.

masterlist

[alastor-simp]

Horror Movie Night😈 - Alastor x Reader

Charlie wanted to find an activity to bring everyone together, since a lot of the personalities in the hotel would clash. She had made a list of ideas, but majority of them were turn down for being too childish. The last option was a movie night with everyone, and surprisingly everyone agreed. The genre of movie was the real problem. Charlie wanted a musical. Vaggie had a preference for drama. Angel dust preferred either a steamy flick (aka porn) or comedy. Niffty voted for romance. Husk didn't really care, but he wouldn't be upset if it was an action movie. Sir Pentious was interested in historical / documentaries. Alastor was not a big fan of modern technology especially television, but he would give it a try if the movie was a horror. You enjoyed all genres of movies, so it didn't matter which one you saw. Coming up with an idea, you suggested pulling a name out of the hat, to decide the genre of movie that gets picked. Borrowing Husk's hat for a bit, everyone wrote their name on a piece of paper and tossed it in. After a quick shake, you grabbed the first piece of paper and pulled it out.

Yelp, looks like it was going to be a horror movie as Al's was the name you pulled out. Everyone had made their way to the couch, while some of them sat on the floor. They were all dressed in their pajamas. Niffty had made popcorn and drinks for everyone to enjoy during the movie. Charlie was lighting some candles to add some effect when the movie was playing. Next to you on the couch was Alastor. He was wearing a red stripped top, and black lounge pants. He seemed very cozy. "Hey Al. What movie did you pick?" Alastor looked at you, smiling big as always. 'Well my dear, I picked whatever seemed interesting! I hope you will enjoy it!" Giving an awkward smile back, your eyes turned toward the TV as soon as Charlie pressed play. You didn't mind horror movies, but being the scaredy cat that you were, they still made you scream.

The movie that Alastor picked was "The Descent." The start of the film was a bit slow, but it slowly began to build up overtime. It got to the point in the movie where the characters had entered into the large cave, to explore. Yeah, that was already a red flag. Scanning your eyes around the room, you took in everyone's reactions. Charlie and Vaggie were hugging the life out of each other. Niffty was smiling, but she was clutching on to her plushie very tightly. Angel was on edge and tried to cling on to Husk, only to be pushed back by him. Angel huffed and decided to a least grab Husk's hand for comfort, and Husk allowed that at least. Sir Pentious was cowering on the floor, wrapping his whole tail around him. Alastor was just smiling next to you, obviously enjoying where the movie was going. You, on the other hand, was getting a very bad feeling in your stomach as the characters kept exploring the cave. The pillow that you were holding was being used as a shield as you kept hiding behind it, waiting for something to happen.

The climax of the movie had arrived when the grotesque bat-like monster had made an appearance and proceeded to feast on one of the characters. Everyone in the room had screamed and jumped, including you, as you covered your face with the pillow. There was a chuckle to your right as Alastor was laughing, at both the movie and your adorable reactions. From the start of the film, Al was seeking glances at you, wondering what your next reaction would be. The face you made when the dread set in was highly entertaining to him. However, he did pity you a bit, as he could see that the movie was frightening you tremendously. Unbeknownst to you, you felt someone drape their arm behind your shoulders, pulling your body closer towards them. Looking up from the pillow, it was clear that it was Al who had done it. His eyes were still watching the movie, clearly enjoying the gruesome moments. Not saying a word, you continued to watch the movie, but the feelings of fear had diminished a bit due to Alastor's actions. The movie had finally ended, as the credits began to flash on the screen. Everyone gave a sigh of relief, except Al . Clapping with glee, he found the movie quite invigorating. Vaggie rolled her eyes at him, while whispering "creepy weirdo" under her breath. It had gotten super late, so it was time to head for bed.

Wishing everyone a good night sleep, you carried yourself back to your room, despite the prickling sensation that you felt crawling up your back. That movie was still on your mind, but you tried to push the fear away. Alastor was following from behind , since the both of you were next door neighbors. "Feeling alright, my dear? That picture show had you shaking like a leaf!" He was definitely smirking when he said that. "No s✪✪✪, Sherlock." Grumbling your response back at him, you continued to make your way to your cozy abode. Having arrived at the door, you turned to Al, who had just arrived at his door. "Good night, Alastor." "You as well, my dear!" Making over to the bed, you laid down and got under the covers, adjusting yourself to get comfortable. It took a while, but the droopy feeling had taken effect on your eyes, and you fell into a deep sleep. Pitch blackness was all around you. The muscles in your body felt like they had been ripped apart. The air felt heavy, almost dry like you were underground. Something was moving around you, circling you, watching you. The monstrous sounds it made created a haunting echo. You begged your body to respond, it was no use. The sounds were coming closer. No. NO! You bellowed out a scream.

"Y/N!!" Someone was shaking you, causing your eyes to snap open. Your body was shaking and there were tears in your eyes. You slowly realized that you had a nightmare. Alastor was in front of you, hands on top of your shoulders. His glowing eyes eyeing you with concern, yet his smile was still present. "A-Al? W-what's wrong? W-why are you in m-my room?" Struggling out a response, your eyes looked at Al in confusion. "My dear, I had heard your shrieks of terror and rushed over! It appeared you were having a nightmare! A rather horrible one at that!" He was still holding on to you, which gave you some comfort. "Oh, I'm so sorry if I disturbed your sleep." Taking in a few deep breaths, helped tremendously as you were able to talk properly and control the shaking. Shaking his head, Al had let go of your shoulders, and moved his hands to your cheeks. "Darling, there is no need for you to apologize! But, may I ask what were you dreaming about?" Massaging your cheeks like a cat, Al smiled down at you, softness in his eyes. Explaining it in full detail, Al realized that the film you had witness, was the main cause of the night terror. He had known that you were scared, but not to the point it would result in you kicking and screaming in your sleep. He needed to rectify this.

"Come along, my dear!" Your body left the sanctity of your bed, and ended up in Alastors arms. He was carrying you like a bride. "W-what Al?! Where are you taking me?!" Whispering at him, while your brain was trying to wrap around this situation. Cocking his head to the side, he gave you an optimistic smile. "To my room!" There was no time to refute back as the both of you had arrived at his door. Creaking loudly, the door to his room had opened by itself. His room was like something out of a story book. One side was the normal room decor, illuminated with candle light. The walls were plastered with Alastor's personal trinkets and stag heads. The other side was saturated in moss, tall pine trees looming above. Chirps of crickets could be heard and glowing fireflies were flying around. Eyes widening in amazement, you continued to gaze around the room, earning a laugh from Al. In the center of the room, was an enormous bed, covered in satin sheets and black pillows. "How... How were you able to do this?" You breathed out, as Al placed you on the bed. Raising an eyebrow, he smiled down at you, wagging his finger. "Ah ah ah! A magician never reveals his secrets, my dear!" A thought popped in your head: "Where was he going to sleep." Snapping his fingers, Alastor used his powers to snuff out the flames from the candles, leaving only the fireflies as a source of light. Realization hit you, causing you to jump off the bed, leaving Al staring at you in confusion. "Wait Al! Are you okay with this? Sharing a bed?" Alastor looked at you, head crooked to the side. "Why of course! Are you oppose to the idea? Haven't you had your share of sleepovers with the effeminate spider?" Well yes you had, but this situation was different. "I'm not opposed to it, but I don't want you to do something you aren't comfortable with." You told Alastor this, rubbing your arm with your hand.

He was still befuddled by your statement until he began to wrap his head around of what you were saying. How charming you were! Thinking of him and his aversion to physical contact. "Darling, There is no need to worry." His body moved to crawl under the covers, sitting on the bed and looking at you. His finger pointed towards you, beckoning for you to return back to the bed. Still hesitant about the whole situation and observing his body language, it came to your decision that he was really okay with it. Your feet carried you back over, and slowly made its way under the covers, plopping your head on the pillow. Al huffed, a little annoyed that you didn't follow his instructions. He grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards him. Your head was engulfed in his chest, feeling his chin, nuzzling it. "Comfortable, Y/N?" A warm breath whispered into your ear. His voice sent chills down your back, while also causing your heart to skip a beat. "Mmph" was your response, as your mouth was muffled against his chest. Hearing a hum from above, you felt Alastor nestle closer, hooking his leg over yours. The static emanating from him had quieted down and the thumping sound of his heart sounded much clearer. Extending out a yawn, your eyelids began droop while listening to the calming sound of Al's heartbeat. Soon, your eyelids had closed and you fell into a deep sleep.

Managing to stay awake, Al had watched you, making sure you were able to relax. He never in a million years thought he would be doing something like this. He was the radio demon, the most fearsome and all powerful overlord. Everyone trembled in fear from the sight of him, yet here he was now, cuddling you in his bed. He was getting soft, which displeased him greatly, yet he couldn't help but find it comforting as well. Your very-being was changing him, in both a good and bad way. Sighing, he pushed his thoughts away as he had a busy schedule tomorrow and needed to be well rested for his broadcast. Nuzzling closer, Alastor hugged you tighter. His glowing eyes dimmed and he had fallen asleep as well.

[wolfiesmoon]

The greatest gift

it's the most wonderful time of the year as they like to say so how about you recieve the best gift from santa on top of that 😈

this is suggestive perhaps??

Characters featured: mikey, hanma, baji, mitsuya

₊˚⊹♡ Mikey

You were joking when you asked for "Mikey" for christmas. You thought Hina and Emma knew you were joking.

So why the hell was Mikey currently tied up with a christmas ribbon and sitting under the christmas tree in your house, staring back at you with a slight smile?

"Merry christmas."

"I- HUH?!" you quickly covered your mouth, not wanting to be too loud at midnight. "Mikey, why are you in my house?" you whisper yelled.

"Emma and Hina jumped me." was his comically simple response. Well, it would be comically simple if Mikey didn't scare the living crap out of you just a few moments ago.

"That- That doesn't explain anything!" at this point, you've given up with trying to be quiet.

"I can't tell you anything more. I have no idea what's happening either."

"How are you so calm about this anyways?" you walked closer to him, inspecting the tag on the ribbon that said "Merry christmas from Emma and Hina".

"Now that I think of it, it is pretty weird to be kidnapped by your sister."

You're not even going to ask how they managed to get him in here without the keys.

"Well, uhhh... how about I unwrap you...?" you offered awkwardly after a small silence.

"Are you sure you want to do that? You'll unleash the true present by doing that." something... strange flashed behind his dark eyes.

"...What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing. ♡"

₊˚⊹♡ Hanma

"Merry christmas. ♡" you froze at the sound of his voice.

You were woken up by some weird noise downstairs, quietly walking down to investigate the source. You even took a knife from the kitchen just in case.

But instead of a robber or kidnapper, what you found was Hanma Shuji tied up in a big red ribbon. Smiling at you.

"Don't you merry christmas me." you didn't know what to say or do. You were scared out of your mind just now and that combined with the strange sight in front of you made you at a loss of... anything, really.

"Woah, that's a big knife... What were you going to do with that?˜" he sounded more amused than anything.

"You little... I don't... What is even happening?" you dropped the knife on the ground.

"Someone told me that you want 'Hanma Shuji' for christmas."

"Well, you know what I thought I was going to get for christmas? Kidnapped, that's what!" you yelled, not even caring about how loud you are right now.

"Hahahah, how amusing!" he laughed, seeming very satisfied.

"You won't be saying that after the things I will do to you. You know you can't escape when you're tied up, right?" a smirk crossed your face suddenly. A sense of boldness overtook you.

"Oooh, aren't you bold. ♡" his smile only widened.

₊˚⊹♡ Baji

"No way." you had to do a double take when you saw what you thought you saw.

Turns out this christmas is more interesting than you thought it would be. A present from Toman ended up being Baji Keisuke in the flesh.

"Mmmf!" he's probably telling you to free him right now, which admittedly, is hard to do when your mouth is gagged.

"Wow, this is like, the best present I ever got. I gotta thank the boys later." you walked closer to him, kneeling down and inspecting him in all his tied up glory.

Baji looked half angry half embarrased, and honestly that just made you want to tease him more. You kissed his cheek, smiling cheekily.

"Hmmf..." you laughed a little at his face.

"Mmmf! Hmmm!"

"Okay, okay, I get it, I'll let you out. But that doesn't mean that I'm done with you just yet." you smiled, taking the bow of the ribbon into your hands to untie it.

"Mmm..?!"

₊˚⊹♡ Mitsuya

"Me and Mana have a surprise for you." Luna ran up to you all of a sudden.

"What is it?" you placed your hands on your knees to get closer to Luna's height.

"Wait till christmas." that was Luna's only response before running off to continue playing with Mana.

"Hmmm..." you hummed, a bit confused.

.

"Was this... Luna and Mana's gift?" you looked at the comically large christmas present under the tree. What in the world did those two give you?

You carefully removed the lid of the box, worried about the contents. Only to find Mitsuya inside.

"I- What the hell?" Luna and Mana sure are some evil children.

"I don't know either. Hakkai approached me just now and said "sorry" before wrapping me up and putting me in this box with no further explanation." his eyes never left yours.

"I think I know who's idea this was..." you stepped inside the box, sitting directly across from him. He raised an eyebrow.

"Your little sisters told me something about a surprise for christmas..."

"Oh my god. That explains... a lot." he looked as if he just made a big realisation. You couldn't help but laugh a little at the sight.

You pecked his lips all of a sudden, making him jump slightly. "Tell them thank you later."

"Shouldn't you be thanking them?" he smiled.

"No, I'm sure you'll be the one thanking them tommorow." His eyes widened at your mischevious smirk.

an early christmas present for my mikey, hanma, baji and mitsuya babes 💕

i want to make sure yall are well fed with that christmas dinner this year

[074calicocat]

LOVE ؛ ଓ

cw: belly riding. yes it's a real thing and if you think this is crazy, it came from Twitter so that explains things. eerily vanilla for once. reader doesn't have a specific age but if you want to imagine an age gap, go ahead 👍, I forgot to mention it but Joel is wearing low waist jeans and he's CHUBBY. and passing descriptions of choking but barely

notes: insanely proud of myself for making this not freaky to the max. i didn't call Joel daddy once (that's for next time 😈)

"Are you sure about this?"

Joel likes control. He likes stability and he likes certainty. But for you, he's willing to make acceptations.

"Relax, it's not that serious," you reassure him, looming over him. Damn you, you have him good tonight. Shirtless and sprawled into the bed, shutting all the curtains tightly like the neighbors haven't heard you scream his name before. But that's what makes him curious because your own mischievous expression means you had an idea.

And you make him curious because you nettles your bare self right on his lower abdomen, your warm cunt making contact with his rather thick happy trail. "Woah..." Right. Excellent commentary on his part.

You just let out a breathless laugh as your hands wander over his torso, skimming over the scars and hair that adorn him. You have this sort of revered look in your eyes that makes him weak around the edges, his hands coming to settle on your waist.

"You look...really pretty, Joel. Like, so nice," you whisper, your fingers making their way to his neck. They leave a trail of warmth in their wake and once your thumbs reach his pulse points, your hands wrap around his neck.

Any other time, this would be the clearest threat in the world. But you're his girl, his little miss. You could slap him right now and while it would hurt, he wouldn't have a single complaint.

"I like your gray hair a lot," you continue, slowly rocking your hips over his now chubby belly. You're coating him in your slick and for some odd reason, the sight makes him feel like a teen again with how all his blood rushes south. "Gods, I just wanna...wanna...shit-"

it's adorable to him how easily you lose yourself in pleasure. The way your words falter and a little moan leaves your lips instead. He's also at a loss for words and just holds you tight, dragging your drooling pussy over his abdomen over and over again. Watching how your clit brushes against the base of his graying bush and whimper at the contact, making his let out his own breathless sighs at the sight of your bliss.

Joel likes control but he likes you more. In fact, he loves you. Would do just about anything for you, from killing a mob of Clickers to those pesky spiders that make home in your boots. Would let you use him like a fucktoy for hours on end just like this, as long as he gets to see you come undone. "You're perfect, angel." That's all he can manage to choke out because somehow, you peel him to his very bones. Even if his cock is laying neglected in his jeans and you're bearing all your weight down on his throat, you have him enraptured.

He sucks in a breath as your movements turn frantic. The rhythmic roll of your hips now becomes desperate humping against his belly, your mouth falling open as little "ah, ah, ah" escape you. "Come on, baby," he rasps, eager to see you cum. "I got you, I got you." His hands go from your waist to the soft fat of your tits, popping one of your nipples in his mouth as you lean down. He suckles on you with nothing short of pure passion, getting spit all over your chest as his free hand pinches and tweaks your other nipple.

It's not long until you finally cum, thighs trembling as your face screws up in ecstasy. He can feel your cunny pulse against his chub and he could die happy in the moment if that was the world's will.

He finally lets up on his onslaught on your tits until your sniffling and weakly tugging his head away, just to flop yourself down on top of him. "That-" you scramble for air, your forehead resting against his. "That was good."

"...Thanks for the review."

You both laugh and you lazily press your lips to his temple, brushing your nose against his. Like your rabbits or something, nuzzling against each other. It's cute. You're cute. You're perfect. From your breathless words to the way your slick and cum seep into his bush.

[kxsagi]

hey girl....imma...imma need u to write ab the whole... bicep crushing thing w Isagi cuz.. now u got me thinking 😈😈😩

“𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢’𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧”

a/n: need to see his biceps and triceps flexed as he grips the headboard 

yeah i’m down bad so i made two parts 🙁 (second part is a little suggestive)

“𝐢 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐚”

one look at your boyfriend and you only have one thought: #needthat. 

isagi stood by the kitchen counter, leaning against it lazily with one hand holding his phone, the other casually gripping a glass of water. his thumb scrolled absentmindedly, but your eyes? glued to the way his bicep flexed subtly each time he lifted the glass. the veins along his forearm shifted with every movement, stretching across his skin like delicate, winding rivers taunting you. 

you were supposed to be doing something productive. anything, really. but instead, you sat at the table, chin in your hand, fully mesmerized by the spectacle that was isagi existing. 

“you good?” his voice snapped you out of your blatant gawking, and you realized you’d been staring for way too long. his brow arched slightly, though there was a teasing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. he knew. and oh how much it boosted his ego. 

“hm? yeah, just… thinking,” you lied through your teeth. 

but then he did it. the absolute audacity. he set the glass down and stretched. arms raised above his head, shirt lifting just enough to reveal a sliver of toned abs, but that wasn’t even the problem. the problem was the way his biceps peaked, perfectly rounded and taut, as he locked his fingers together, letting out a small sigh. 

and you? done for. 

“you’re still staring,” he pointed out, lowering his arms, but instead of dropping them to his sides, he bent one and flexed slightly, pretending to stretch his shoulder. oh, he was absolutely messing with you now. 

you scoffed dramatically, feigning annoyance. “don’t flatter yourself.” 

but isagi, being the menace he was, smirked wider. “flatter myself?” he mused, flexing again, just subtly, enough for you to notice. “nah, you’re the one doing all the flattering with your eyes.” 

your face felt hot. and it only got worse when he casually walked over and placed his hands on either side of your chair, leaning down slightly. the proximity gave you a front-row seat to the definition in his arms, the way his triceps curved beneath his skin, the warmth radiating off him. 

“wanna feel?” his voice was low, teasing, but it made your breath catch. 

you blinked, caught between playing it cool and completely folding. spoiler alert: you folded. instantly. without another word, you reached out, brushing your fingers along the firm muscle. warm, smooth skin stretched over pure strength. you squeezed lightly, your hand barely able to fit around his bicep. 

“jeez,” you muttered under your breath. “these things should be illegal.” 

isagi chuckled, and you could feel the vibration of his laugh through his arm. “should they?” he teased, bringing his face a little closer, his breath fanning over your ear. “you seemed pretty interested in them a second ago.” 

you glared at him, though the effect was ruined by the way you were still clinging to his arm. “don’t be cocky.” 

he leaned in further, lips just grazing the shell of your ear as he whispered, “too late.”

“𝐛𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐩 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧”

you should’ve known better. you really should’ve. 

it started innocently enough – playful, teasing, nothing serious. you were lying on the couch, your legs draped over isagi’s lap while he scrolled on his phone, absentmindedly tracing patterns along your shin with his thumb. soft. casual. domestic. 

but then your eyes wandered (because how could they not?) to the way his forearm flexed slightly as he adjusted his grip. the shift was subtle, but you caught it – the faint ridge of muscle, the delicate winding of veins beneath his skin. and just like that, you were done for. 

you stared a little too long. and isagi? he noticed. 

“you good?” he muttered, not looking away from his phone. 

you hummed, feigning nonchalance. “mhm, just thinking.” 

“about what?” 

you glanced at his arm again. mistake. your fingers twitched slightly against his thigh. the urge was too strong. you reached out before you could stop yourself, lightly squeezing the bulk of his bicep. 

and you had the audacity to say, “huh… not that big.” 

his head snapped toward you, eyes narrowing slightly. oh, you were asking for it. 

he didn’t say a word, just slowly set his phone down on the coffee table. the shift was deliberate. predatory. when he turned back to you, there was a faint glimmer in his eyes, something dangerous and amused all at once. 

“what was that?” he asked, voice low and steady. too steady. if you wanna test him like that, you have to be ready for it. 

you blinked at him innocently, playing dumb. “what?” 

his gaze dipped to where your hand still rested on his bicep. “not that big, huh?” 

before you could offer some snarky retort, he moved. suddenly. swiftly. in one smooth motion, he grabbed you by the waist and flipped you beneath him, caging you against the couch with his arms braced on either side of your head. 

your breath caught. his face was only inches from yours, but you barely noticed. no, you were far too distracted by the wall of muscle surrounding you. his forearms, thick and unyielding, pressed into the cushion beside your face, framing you completely. 

“still not big enough?” he muttered, voice low and teasing, but there was a heat behind it that made your stomach tighten. 

you couldn’t answer. not when he shifted lower, bringing his chest flush against yours, and wrapped his arms around you. 

and then? he squeezed. 

slowly. deliberately. his biceps flexing against your back, the solid muscle closing around you like evil. warm, firm, and completely unforgiving. 

your breath hitched. “oh my gosh –” 

his arms tightened further, just slightly, enough to steal the air from your lungs. you squirmed, but the more you struggled, the harder his hold became. his biceps flexed again, the muscle shifting and pressing against your ribs, making it almost impossible to breathe without feeling him everywhere. 

“too tight?” he murmured near your ear, voice dark with mock concern. 

you shook your head weakly, your fingers gripping at the unyielding muscle. 

“no?” he taunted softly, his breath warm against your skin. “then let me…” his arms flexed subtly again, the veins in his forearms pulsing faintly beneath his skin, “hold you a little tighter.” 

and he did. slowly and thoroughly. 

you could feel the strain of his biceps beneath your palms, the way the muscles coiled, dense and unrelenting, keeping you locked against him. your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his lower back as you tried to get some semblance of leverage, but he was immovable. 

his chest pressed against yours, warm and solid, each breath making the cage of his arms press into you further. you let out a soft gasp against his throat, fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt as your body went pliant beneath his strength. 

“yoichi…” you barely managed to breathe out, voice muffled against his skin. 

his lips brushed your temple, a dark chuckle escaping him. “what?” 

you squirmed slightly, your breath hitching when his arms flexed again, hard muscle coiling tighter around you. you felt it – the shift beneath his skin, the sheer force of it. crushing. suffocating. consuming. and yet? you didn’t pull away. 

no, instead, you clung to him, fingers tracing along the tense ridges of his arms, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. 

“tighter,” you whispered, half-daring, half-pleading. 

he froze slightly against you, his breath catching for just a fraction of a second, before he grinned against your skin. 

“you’re dangerous,” he muttered softly, but his arms obeyed anyway, flexing harder. pulling you in so snugly against him that your ribs practically caved into his chest, breathless and overwhelmed. 

and still? you didn’t tell him to stop. 

his lips brushed along your throat, teeth grazing gently against your skin. slow. deliberate. 

and then? he stilled. just for a second. 

his arms were still snug around you, keeping you completely captive, but he shifted back slightly, just enough to look at you. really look at you. 

your eyes met his, wide and slightly dazed, chest heaving faintly from the lack of air, but still, you didn’t pull away. you just stared up at him, your fingers still trembling slightly against the bulk of his arms. 

“you like this, huh?” his voice was a low rasp, but there was something softer in it now, something dangerously tender. 

you didn’t answer. you just tugged him down, pressing your lips softly to his. slow. deliberate. deep. 

he groaned softly against your mouth, arms still holding you tight, still keeping you locked against him. but this time, he kissed you slower. deeper. his lips moving against yours like he had all the time in the world. 

he didn’t let go. didn’t loosen his hold. no, he kept you right where you were, completely encased by him. 

and when he finally pulled back, just slightly, his breath warm against your lips, he whispered softly: 

“mine.” 

and with one slow, final squeeze, you melted entirely into him. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[trashytracktales]

😳👉👈

Freaky agenda for Lewis, Nando or Max?

Lewis is the type of man who has a deep respect for emotional and physical connection. He can be your quickie guy if you want him to, but for 99% of the time, he won’t rush anything worth doing right 🎀

Agendas for freaky ***, *****, and ***** are also coming soon 😈

𝗧’𝗦 𝗙𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗞𝗬 𝗟𝗘𝗪𝗜𝗦 𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗔

𝗜𝗻 𝗯𝗲𝗱

✦ Lewis is the embodiment of sensual dominance. He doesn’t fuck just to make you come. That’s more like a ritual for him, one that he wants to watch it happen, again and again. And again.

✦ He’s not aggressive in the obvious sense, but he is intentional in his movements, and that can come across as aggressive at times. Thing with him is that he kows exactly how to build tension to the point of obsession.

✦ He has no shame, therefore will hold eye contact in order to leave you breathless. His praise is meant to melt your insides, and has stamina that feels unfair for a newly middle-aged man (he may be pushing 40, but you can push his babies oop).

✦ Treats sex like it’s sacred but man is so filthy.

𝗧𝘂𝗿𝗻-𝗼𝗻𝘀

✦ Delicate, feminine confidence. If you know what you want but still allow space for tenderness and playfulness, he’s already undone.

✦ Somewhere in the back of his head, he knows he IS the goat. So, being worshipped even just a little does great things to him. He doesn’t need to be praised constantly, because again, he is well aware of who he is, but when you look at him like he’s the best you’ve ever had, he’ll know you’re not lying.

✦ Sensory play, because he is a sofisticated man. He’ll bring in soft fabrics, scented candles, and maybe music. Even better if you trust him with blindfolds or silk ties, since he has lots of experience and even more scenarios he wants to play out.

✦ Sense of humor. Especially if he figures you’re making jokes just to make him laugh.

𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀

✦ Role-playing.

✦ Power exchange and “good girl” come as a package. It’s not just about control, though. He gets off on the emotional connection behind your surrender.

✦ Orgasm control. He will edge you until your body is shaking, then lick his lips and do it again just to hear you beg.

✦ If you look up “lewis hamilton mirror pic”, you’ll find hundreds of them, so I hope it won’t come as a surprise when I say he likes mirror sex. He wants to watch himself, he wants to watch you, he wants to see everything. Full eye contact. Slow to fast and deep strokes. A hand on your belly to feel every inch of himself inside you.

✦ Riding kink. He wants you on top because he loves seeing you take over. However, you won’t be alone in it for one second, because he still likes to have a bit of control by snapping his hips up to remind you he never really gave it away.

✦ Mutual masturbation. Watching you touch yourself while he sits back and strokes his cock. Typical Tuesday evening.

✦ Breath control + whispering, because I say so. There’s just something about his tattooed hands and how good they would look wrapped around a neck. Put me in jail and throw away the key.

✦ Aftercare kink, non-negotiable. You’ll feel him kissing every mark he left. Run his fingers over your thighs like he’s driving an expensive car. “Was that too much?” No, can you go again?

𝗙𝗮𝘃𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀

✦ Sweaty missionary, with eye contact, of course, and hands holding your thighs up.

✦ Face-down, ass-up, because he’s just a man. He grips your hips with intent, pounds into you with intention, but always leans over to press his lips to your skin.

✦ Reverse cowgirl with a mirror in front. I am NOT elaborating on this.

✦ Off-the-edge, one hand on your lower back, the other around your throat or in your hair. He loves the angle on this one, how tight you feel, and how much control he has when your legs shake.

✦ Car seat spread (passenger seat reclined), with bonus points if you are MUCH smaller than him. The seatbelt digging into your side, one of his rings still on your clit, window’s down for dramatic effect.

✦ Dare I say kneeling over your face, because that’s how he’s about to show you domination? Alright, I’ll see myself out...

𝗘𝘅𝘁𝗿𝗮 𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗰𝗲

✦ Private Polaroids of you post-orgasm. Hey, he’s away a lot.

✦ 🗣🗣🗣 He’ll eat it even after he’s come inside you. Yup. YUP. Face between your thighs, “You’re dripping, baby. Gotta clean you up, right?” Zero shame.

✦ Silent dominance, because he won’t always talk. Sometimes he just stares you down while guiding your hips. No words needed, but you’ll feel it.

✦ Ruined orgasms on purpose (he makes up for it).

✦ Worships your overstimulation, because he loves to watch the state he’s brought you to.

[ysrjune]

i checked out ur rules list and the great idea of a whiny and clingly dallas winston came up 🙏🏽🙏🏽 there's not alot that goes on in my head but maybe dallas goes over to fem!readers house after a fight and he's all beaten up so reader comforts him with like obviously cleaning him up and his injuries but afterwards a blowjob and praises 😈😈

[ NEVER HAD A BITCH LIKE ME ]

// I love you flo milli !!!1!!!1. ⚡️

#🥃🔗 ENJOY ! ♡

"you know I don’t like when you get into unnecessary fights, dallas." you tell him while cleaning up the small scracthes on his face with rubbing alcohol. "man, this was necessary. damn kid was talkin’ on jahnny." dallas rolls his eyes. "cant have that. johnnycake's been through lots already. hes quiet anyway, I dont know why the other kids try 'n pick on'em."

you understand how protective dallas is over johnny, but he cant fight every 15 year old kid that says something about him. "dally," "yeah?" "don't call me man" "ah." he remembers. sometimes he genuinely forgets that you hate being called that since he says it so much, and others he does it on purpose to annoy you.

later on, you were hanging out in your room with him as he yapped on about how he might go back to jail and smack talking on every guy hes ever fought or had problems with. especially in new york. "yeah, he's like 5 feet tall anyway. broads dont dig that." he laughs. "guy could talk smack real good, but once you brang up his height, he'd shut the hell up." he laughs again. that stupid annoying laugh of his. you hate it, but you won't let him know it.

all of a sudden your throat became parched, craving a cold water from the refrigerator. but dally wouldn't let you leave him. "you can wait for a couple minutes, you ain't that thirsty." he rolls over on you, putting his weight on your torso. "dal, get off of me! it'll take like 10 seconds!" you try pushing him away, but he was too heavy. "you'd trade me for a damn water?" he looks up at you. "that's a real messed up thing, doll." you groan a little bit. "dally, I want water. I never said I'd trade you for one.. though, maybe I would right about now."

dallas continues to whine into your chest about how he only wants you to stay for a little while more before getting water, but you don't budge. "Dal, with the time you haven't let me gone, I would have been back already." You point out to him. dally groans exaggeratedly and lays off. "Fine," he glares. "10 seconds. im countin'." Quickly, you run over to the kitchen and back in 9 seconds. "told ya," you smile to which he genuinely rolls his eyes at.

"swirl your tongue 'round it." he tells you, gripping onto your hair. "damn baby, you know, huh?" dallas mumbles after you do exactly what he asked when he wasnt even halfway finished with his sentence. "mhm," he taps your cheek, beginning to roll his hips into your throat. "you just keep suckin' on it like that and I'm gon—" he sucks in a sharp breath. you had taken him out of your mouth, exposing his MEAT (💀#sorry) to the cool air of your room. "put it back in your damn mouth, broad." he shoves your head down to choke on him and continue pleasing him.

[milomelts]

Bet On Me

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Reader (she/her/afab)

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: 18+, no y/n use, italics

Note: bear with me cuz i havent written in months but first pitt fic 😈 send me them requests im currently obsessed lmao

also lowkey if anything is incorrect pls tell me cuz i am the proof reader round these parts 😭

——————————————

Jack Abbot had never really been addicted to anything. Sure he had an affliction for cigarettes for a while, and on more than one occasion, sought out the high after an adrenaline rush, but these weren’t things he necessarily needed.

What he did need was the constant. He was addicted to the pattern, your rhythm, it was as if his day wouldn’t start until you had said those four words.

“Wanna make a bet?” you’d smirk, talking in a hushed tone for him and only him to hear. It was addicting. Every single day you’d find him at the start of his shift no matter where he was, those four words ringing in his ears like a sweet song when he tried to fall asleep. Wanna make a bet.

He always did.

“What’s it today,” his hazel eyes would find yours, scanning your face. He’d let them linger on your lips just slightly too long before snapping them back up to your eyes, only to find you flittering back and forth between his. Surely you hadn’t noticed but you were always too observant.

“I bet,” you would trail off, eyes scanning around central as you searched for your latest victim. Sometimes he would swear that you were bribing people into your side just so he would lose the bet. “We get an overdose patient in the first hour.”

Abbot scoffs, pushing off the counter the two of you had been leaning on, running a hand through his hair as he ruminated on the bet. Too easy, that happened most nights, he could counter with something more rare but it would be risky. He turns back to you about to respond but his breath catches in his throat. You were looking up at him, head resting on the counter, hair falling over your shoulder revealing your neck, and those sweet innocent eyes were following every movement his hand made through his hair. Your teeth teased at your bottom lip as you bit them, a habit he found you doing when you were lost in thought or concentration.

“Too easy,” he shakes his head, bring you both back to the present as you stand up straight once again frowning. “How about broken clavicle before 4am?”

You make a noise of dissatisfaction, ruminating over how likely it was someone would come in with a broken bone at all, let alone the clavicle. Then adding in the time factor, it adds to the risk and…

“I can pick something easier if-”

“No, no!” you interject, a small smile working its way on your face. You always did love a risk. “Sounds perfect.”

Perfect. God you were gonna ruin him.

“Well what do you wanna wager, Dr. Abbot?” This was his favourite part. The way you say his name, dragging out every letter, making it sound like its dripping with honey. He wanted to hear you say it over and over and over again.

“Anything.” It slips out before he can stop himself, god he must have been tired already.

“Oh?” You laugh, that beautiful sound ringing in his ears as your eyes shine bright at him. He didn’t deserve you, your innocence, your energy. “How about a drink and a massage, I don’t think you could afford losing anymore money this week and my back is killing me.”

His head is spinning at this point and he barely registers you holding out your hand for him to shake. That meant you wanted to go back to his place. Just the two of you, a drink, god fuck. Shake her hand idiot.

He did, probably for slightly too long. Before he can pull away, you lean in closer to his ear with one last tease.

“I hope you’re good with your hands, Dr. Abbot.”

Then you’re off, skipping your way across central to take over rounds for the day shift. For you he could be good, his hands could be good he means. Please god let someone’s clavicle break.

Its not long before you’re swept away doing work up after work up. Even during the night shift it seemed there was a constant flow of patients, especially since it was a friday, various college kids who were blackout drunk or elderly patients that just got checked on before bedtime. You had finally sat down for the first time in what felt like hours after finishing the initial workup on an allergic reaction, ordering a shot of epinephrine for a girl who had one bad anniversary dinner. You were adding to her chart when you felt someone slide up beside you, light clicks coming from their own ipad as they typed up paitent charts.

“So,” Dr. Ellis began, a shit-eating grin spreads across her face as you glance up at her. “You and Doctor Abbot? What’s going on there?”

You can’t help but laugh with her, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” This wasnt the first time she had asked about your relationship, but you had insisted that despite how badly you wanted to see him at home in baggy grey sweats and messy curls, there was once again nothing going on. Definitely nothing at all.

“Right, so he’s just making heart eyes at you right now for fun?” She chided, beckoning you to look across the room with a tilt of her head.

You follow her motion across central and chills rake down your body as your eyes lock with Abbot’s. His hair was messy at this point, the way it always got around 2am with how often he tugged at it when he was stressed. God you wished it was you pulling at it instead. He tilts his head slightly, pulling your eyes back down to his and he smiles softly before tapping his watch and walking back to check on patients.

Instinctively you go to check the time, but Ellis beats you to it. “Nearly 4am, don’t tell me you guys have another bet going?”

“We always have a bet going,” you remind her, turning back to face her once again.

“In that case I hope you win,” she grins, returning both of your tablets to the main docking station and grabbing a new one for each of you. She passes you your tablet but pulls it back just before you can grab it, raising an eyebrow at you. “What did you wager?”

“Oh uhm,” You face flushes and you stand up, gingerly grabbing your tablet from her and shrugging as you rush back towards your patients. “Just the usual, money.”

“You know none of us believe that!!”

You face is flushed bright red as you check the vitals on your first bed. Stable BP, no blown pupils. Don’t look at your watch, dont do it. 3:48. Shit.

Next bed, paitent sleeping but stable vitals once again, still waiting for that head CT because of course they would be backed up at this time of night. Do not check the time. 3:52. Fuck.

By the time you’re at the third bed you can barely focus on checking charts and vitals, grumbling as you toss down your tablet at central and look towards the ambulance bay. 3:57.

You look around the room, eyes stopping when you catch Abbot staring at you once again. He glances down to his watch again, mirroring him you check yours one last time. 3:59. Your head whips up to find him, boots landing heavy on the ground as he stalks towards you interrupted by two medics bursting through the ambulance doors and you both rush towards them.

“37 year old female, car accident. Tenderness and pain coming from the upper chest, but stable vitals.” The medic rattles off as you and Abbot wheel the bed towards the first trauma bay.

Abbot’s hands press lightly over the patient’s neck and then down overtop their clavical where she’s winces in pain, groaning as he presses overtop the same spot again as you order pain meds. You start assisting with hooking up the various monitors, but your head snaps around when Abbot says your name.

“Looks like we have a broken clavicle,” he doesn’t want to smile, but can’t help the grin on his face when your eyes light up.

“Perfect,” you whisper out, catching a few strange glances from the other nurses in the room and you quickly reorient yourself. “I mean, let’s get her up for a scan!”

You nod to the other nurses as they take the bed out of the room, waiting for the doors to slide closed before you look up at Abbot again. You open your mouth to say something but your voice catches in your throat when you see the way he’s looking at you -like a predator about to catch its prey.

“What do you like to drink?” He voice is low and gravely, only for you to hear. His eyes drop down to your lips and back up, once, twice, and you can see the rise and fall of his chest quicken.

“Just, uhm, just whatever is fine.” You squeak out, heart racing as he takes another step closer to you. He could get used to seeing you shy, seeing you blushing underneath him as he-

As he focused on the present like his therapist recommended. Jesus get a grip man.

“Wine okay?” His fingers are almost touching yours, and you gasp when they accidentally graze against your arm.

“Mmhm,” Your lips are sealed tight together and for just a moment you think maybe this was all a dream. That you had actually hallucinated this whole thing and finally gone crazy from the lack of sleep.

Just as Abbot opens his mouth to say more the doors to the trauma bay slide open and the two of you shoot apart like repelling magnets as the cleaning worker wheels in their cart to mop the floor. Abbot is rushing out before you can get another word in and you awkwardly apologize to the worker before hazily finding your way through central back to your desk.

“Five minutes tell we’re off, but judging by the fact that all your paients charts are caught up, one might assume you have somewhere to be.” The teasing tone causes you to groan and drop your head against your desk as Ellis rolls her chair up beside yours.

“Yeah my bed,” you lie, refusing to pick up your head to look at her as her eyes burn holes in you.

“So what did you win?” She lightly pushes your shoulder causing you to look over at her and break out in a fit of giggles. “The nurses say you were a little too excited for that broken clavicle.”

“Always with the gossip train,” you mutter, letting your hands slide down your face. “Fine, I may or may not have won drinkswithAbbot.” You hurriedly mumble out the last part, standing up quickly as you pull your jacket off the back of your chair and sling it over your shoulder. You had to get out of there before you got embarrassed anymore by Ellis, or god forbid, another nurse overheard your conversations.

“Oh you are gonna get a lot more than just drinks-“

“Good morning and night to you too Dr. Ellis,” you cut her off, bending at the knee in a little curtsy, before making your way out to the parking lot ignoring her cheers as the door slams behind you.

You weren’t entirely sure where you were supposed to meet up with Abbot, but as soon as your feet hit the pavement of the parking lot his were walking in step right behind you. He hovers his hand lightly over your lower back and guides you to turn down the first street as you head towards his apartment a light banter about the various patients you had seen during the night fills the air comfortably as you finally make it to his building.

Unsurprisingly his apartment was neat, almost bare which is expected considering most of his time was spent at the hospital, but there was still a warmth of home. Various books where sprawled out on the coffee table by his couch, surrounded by even more bookcases containing various movies, records, and you guessed it even more books. Of course he had a dvd player and all his favourites sitting on a shelf by his TV, once again reminding you that he was nearly twice your age.

You hear some glasses clink together behind you and you turn around to find Abbot pouring some red wine in each before meeting you on the couch. He sits down beside you, your breath hitching as his thighs touch yours and you involuntarily lean closer into him as you take the glass.

“Cheers to your win,” his voice is soft, it’s so quiet compared to the authority he exudes in the ER. He probably would talk you through it. You choke on the wine and cough, the red liquid spilling out onto your shirt.

“Shit,” you cough out, settling the glass down on the table as Abbot does the same, his hand coming up to your shoulder to steady you as you catch your breath through the coughs. “I’m so sorry, that’s so embarrassing!”

“No, it’s okay,” His reassures, hands coming up to steady your waist as you get through the fit of coughs.

“I swear I know how to drink,” you laugh out, eyes darting down to his fingers playing with the end of your shirt.

“If you want I have spare clothes,” he offers, once again toying with the edge of your shirt. His fingers dance along the hem before they slowly glide along your bare skin, causing you to gasp at the cold feeling.

Your face is centimeters away from his and you can’t help but dart your eyes from his hands up to his eyes, then his lips which are stained a deep red from the wine. A surge of confidence bubbles up in you and before you can lose it you find your hand coming up to cup his cheek bringing his eyes to yours.

“Well, I won’t be needing a shirt for my massage, right Dr. Abbot?”

That pushed him over the edge, pulling you into a rough kiss, teething clashing against each other. Your hands moved their way up to his locks, intertwining with those damn curls you had been so desperate to mess up before. He pulls away from you, tugging your bottom lip lightly between his teeth causing you to moan and you could see the fire light in his eyes.

You move closer to him, settling on top of his lap with your legs on either side of him, as he finally pulls off your top and unclips your bra letting them fall to floor. His mouth is back on you, trailing kisses down your neck till he reaches your collar bone. You let out a whine he bites down, sucking and smoothing the area over with his tongue over and over causing you to moan and grind down on him.

When he finally pulls back his pupils are blown out, lips puffy and red, he looks absolutely wrecked from just kissing you and you’re sure you look the same. He nods his head down, following his gaze you find a dark purple bruise forming on your clavicle where he had just been focusing his attacks.

“Jack!” you scold, noticing the way his hips jerk up into yours as you say his name. He can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips from your reaction. He would mark your body over and over again, he wanted everyone to know you were his and his alone.

“Think it’s about time I fulfill the other part of that bet,” he’s quick to flip the two of you over causing you to gasp as you back hit the couch. Jack sinks to his knees in front of you, pulling off ur scrub bottoms and undies in one swoop, and positioning himself between your thighs.

Your hands are quick to find his salt and pepper hair as he kisses softly up your thigh till his nose was hitting right where you craved him. He licks a long stride up your slit and you whine, tossing your head back against the couch as he repeats the motion once more before kissing and nipping at your thighs again.

“Jack, please” you plea, just wanting him to give you anything. End the teasing and rail you over and over till you cried.

“Eyes on me baby,” He hummed, his hazel eyes cutting right through you as he finally returned his mouth to your cunt. It was an unspoken deal, the longer you held eye contact the more he would give you.

You watched his eyes scan your whole body, the way your back arched every time he added a finger, the way your brows would press together when he would brush against the right spots, he was always too damn observant. But god was he just drunk on you. He loved feeling your fingers tighten in his hair when he’d suck and lap at your clit and the way your eyes would close for just a moment before snapping back to his. He was addicted to this, to you.

By the time you were cumming he was wasted. The sweet sounds, the way your thighs were threatening to close around him, the blush coating your face threatening to drag down over your neck and chest. You were so beautiful, so perfect, and all for him.

“Jack,” your voice snapped his attention back to you, your eyes pricking with tears as he pulled away from your cunt, coming up to capture your lips with his. His hands fumbled with the hem of his shirt, breaking the kiss to toss it off, whilst your hands worked on untying his scrub pants and letting them fall to floor.

“You sure you want this?” Want him he means, everything that comes with him. If there was one other pattern that came with Jack Abbot other than an addiction to you, it was this. The feeling of burden.

“I want this,” your voice is hushed and you can see the way the statement softens his eyes, brows relaxing as he pulls you into another kiss, this one is less frantic, less rushed. A declaration of something neither of you wanted to label just yet, but a promise to each other.

He makes quick work of his boxers, spitting on his hand and pumping his length a few times before teasing your slit up and down, and finally pushing his full length into you. He lets out a deep groan, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you scratch along his back, wrapping your legs around him.

He reveled in the filthy noises you made as he began fucking in and out of your tight cunt, feeling your fingers dig into his back and pull at the curls on his neck. He was driving you insane, between the kisses and the lewd praises that streamed out of him like a memorized scripture.

“Such a good girl,” He’d repeat over and over, his good girl. “Your pretty hole is taking me so well.”

All you could do was whine out his name over and over, he was all you could think about. The pleasure he was giving you, the bruises he was decorating your collar with, the head of his dick kissing that sweet spot over and over. He held your hips down as he pounded into you, bringing one hand up to rub circles around your clit cause you to tighten around him, holding on to his biceps as you moan.

“Mm close, Jack” You could feel the way his arms tensed, dick twitching inside you signaling he was close too. He could cum just from hearing you say his name.

“Gonna cum for me?” He rasps out, practically out of breath when he takes in the sight of you. Pupils blown, hair sticking to your face, tears pricking at your eyes, and god, the way your pussy was taking his length so well, it was mesmerizing to watch. “Please, cum for me baby.”

Thats what sent you over the edge, the begging. He wanted every bit of you, would beg to have you, to please you. He continued fucking you through your high, finger slowing down on your clit till he was pulling out and painting your stomach white.

He falls to his knees in front of you, resting his head on your thigh as he looks up at you with a lazy grin, those beautiful hazel eyes finding yours. You watched as he caught his breath, eyes never leaving each other as you both came down, finally able to form coherent thoughts.

“Thank you,” you smile while reaching out a hand to card fingers through his messy hair. Of course you would say thank you after making him cum the hardest he ever has. Sweet, innocent you.

“Who said we were done yet?” He wasn’t letting you go that easy, not until the sun was setting again.

Maybe Robby could cover his shift tomorrow.

[cheezb6llz]

If you’re willing, I’d love to spoil Movie!Shadow with all the best things. Maybe just a full spa day for him after his crash down to earth. Of course, I’d definitely gaslight him into thinking bath bombs are real explosives to keep things interesting 😈

I hope you’re having a good day/night/time even if you don’t do my request. Thank you

SPA DAY!!!

MOVIE! SHADOW X READER

WHEW THIS IS KINDA LONG.. this was so adorable though i love it!congrats on first non yandere request LMAO written with human reader in mind, def more on the platonic side!!

—————

Shadow had been glaring at you for the past 5 minutes. His arms were crossed, muscles were tense, and that usual scowl was still plastered on his face. The only thing that made it entertaining was the white towel draped over his shoulders, showing his clear reluctant participation in today’s plan.

“I don’t see the point of this.” He muttered while eyeing the steaming hot bath like it was some sort of enemy trap. “This is a waste of time.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a nice swirly purple and white bath bomb you had recently picked up from the store. “Oh please, lighten up! You’ve been through a lot, you deserve a little relaxation.”

Shadow scoffed, but didn’t exactly protest as you held the bath bomb in your hand. You inspected it before a brilliant idea stuck you.

You looked over at him, eyes wide with mocking seriousness.

“Okay, so this thing.. This thing is dangerous.”

That got his attention. His ears twitched as he turned to face you fully. “..Dangerous?”

You nodded, lowering your voice like you were sharing top-secret government documents. “Yeah, you drop this in the water, and BOOM! explosion.” You dramatically gestured an explosion with your hands.

Shadow’s whole body tensed, his eyes darted between the bath bomb and the tub, analyzing the situation like he was preparing for battle. His fingers twitched like he was debating if he should snatch it from your hands and toss it out the window.

But before he could react, you threw the bath bomb straight into the water.

Shadow flinched. His legs bent like he was about to bolt, arms slightly suspended in the air, quills bristling. But instead of some fiery explosion, the bomb fizzed and swirled in the water, releasing a cloud of color and the soothing scent of vanilla and lavender.

You slowly turned to look at him, trying your absolute HARDEST not to laugh. He looked shocked at first, but then his eyes narrowed as he turned to look at you.

“…You tricked me.”

That was it. You lost it. You clutched your stomach as you laughed uncontrollably, leaning forward a bit. “Oh my god, your face! I should’ve recorded that!”

Shadow scowled, crossing his arms again and looking away, murmuring something about ‘idiotic distractions’ or something. But you didn’t miss the way his quills slowly settled and how he hadn’t stormed out yet.. He was actually tolerating this.

After recovering from your laughing fit, you turned back to Shadow, who was staring at the tub as if it had personally offended him. The bath bomb had fully dissolved, leaving the water a soft shade of purple and covering the surface of the water with a layer of foam.

You placed a hand on your hip. “You are getting in.”

“I don’t-“

“Get. In.”

You stared him down, meeting his same level of intensity. Eventually, he sharply exhaled, muttering something under his breath before he stepped towards the bath.

“I loathe this.” He said, slowly sinking himself into the water. He immediately stiffened up.

“Relax, it’s just water.” You stepped closer, grabbing a washcloth.

Shadow shot you a glare, but slooooowly eased into the warmth of the water. His rigid posture loosened as he placed his hands at the bottom of the tub.

You kneeled down at the side of the tub, dipping the washcloth in the water and squirting some body wash onto it. “Alright buddy, lets get you cleaned up.. Wait, should I be using body wash or shampoo for this? Ehh, whatever.”

You said, pressing the washcloth up against his shoulder and gently rubbing it up and down his arm, trying your best to be careful around sore spots. Up close, you could really see how much he’d been through. Scrapes and bruises littered his entire body from the crash.

“..You aren’t used to letting people take care of you, huh?”

You asked, softly running the cloth down his back.

Shadow huffed, barely opening his eyes. “I can take care of myself.”

“Uh-huh.. And yet, here you are..” You dipped the cloth in the water again before reaching for his quills, he flinched. “Hey, quit moving, I’m trying to wash your hair- er- quills- whatever.”

He sighed but allowed it, tilting his head back for you to work. Once you finished, you grabbed a nearby facial mask, one of those cooling gel sheet masks. “Okay, last step, face mask time!”

Shadow snapped out of his relaxed state, eyes sharpening. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh come on-!”

“No.”

“You survived a fall from space, but a face mask is too much for you?”

He watched as you peeled the face mask out of its packaging and carefully went to place it over his face, but the SECOND it touched his skin- nope. He ripped it off his face, tossing it aside.

“That is disgusting.”

You sighed dramatically. “You’re impossible.”

“Hmph.”

Well, that was the closest you were going to get to a “thank you.”

—

Once shadow was washed up and dried off, you guided him over to sit on a low stool in front of you. His fur and quills were still a bit damp, and you could tell he was this close to bolting when he sensed what was coming next.

“You aren’t leaving until I brush you out.” You declared, holding a wide tooth comb in your hand like it was a weapon.

Shadow tensed. “I can handle it myself.”

“Sure you can, but will you? Probably not.” You plopped down behind him before bringing the comb to the thickest parts of his fur. “Just let me do this, okay? You’ll feel better.”

Shadow sighed but didn’t move, and that was good enough for you.

You started slow, brushing through his fur carefully with long and gentle strokes. His shoulders were still tense, but as you worked, you felt him gradually relax. You ran your fingers through his quills, detangling them a bit.

He was softer than you expected. You’d assumed his quills would be coarse and stiff, but once they were damp they had a sleekness to them. His fur, especially around his neck, shoulders and chest was thick but smooth under your fingers.

“Seeeee? Not so bad, huh?” You said as you brushed through the last stubborn knot.

You still couldn’t believe he was actually letting you do this.

You switched to a softer brush and worked through the shorter fur on his arms and back. His breathing evened out as the tension in his muscles fully unwinded. Soon enough, his eyes closed and he slightly tilted his head forward.

You almost gasped. Was he actually enjoying this??

You decided to test it. You ran your fingers along the back of his neck, gently scratching at the base of his quills.

He visibly shivered.

You bit back a grin. “Ohh, so this is the weak spot?”

His eyes immediately snapped open, he turned to glare at you, ears flattening a bit in embarrassment. “Enough-!”

You held up your hands, laughing. “Okay, okay! No more!”

Shadow crossed his arms and looked away.

Still grinning, you pat his shoulder. “See, Shadow? Now you’re all clean, brushed out, and relaxed. Admit it, it was nice.”

Shadow hesitantly answered. “It was.. Tolerable.”

But the flick of his ear and the fact that he didn’t run away completely told you it was way more than that. And that was great.

—

HES SO CUTE AHHHH

[puck-luck]

I love your writing and seeing your celly was just an opening im ngl, HOORAY AND CONGRATULATIONS TO A YEAR 🎈 🎉

For your celly:

Can I please get a chai latte with caramel syrup, cinnamon and cold foam with quinn or luke (I can’t choose between them so i’m leaving that to you and whoever you think fits this better/whichever you want to write this with😊)

(The smut is against apartment/hotel window, breeding kink and praising, thinking about getting back from their anniversary dinner and both taking the aphrodisiac chocolates one of them just happen to get the other as a gag gift thinking it ‘doesn’t actually work, it’s bullshit’ and challenging each other to who can last the longest but it just makes them both feral for each other )

I’m not sure if this was too much or doesn’t make sense, so please feel free to tweak it however you need but this has been a reoccurring thought for a very long time :)

i feel like this emoji after writing this: 😈😈😈 ps this is for meg for completing uni @star2fishmeg i'm proud of u buddy

Holding your piece of chocolate in one hand and your phone in the other, you cheers with Luke and pan the camera up to his face to capture that crooked smile of his. Jack thought it would be funny to order some aphrodisiac chocolates for your and Luke’s anniversary, but he didn’t expect you to actually take them. He probably didn’t expect a video update when you decided to take them, either.

Luke grins at you while he chews his chocolate, shorting you when he lands a brief kiss. You pout when he doesn’t give you a real kiss, but Luke shakes his head at you fondly. “We’re not supposed to touch after taking them, remember?” he asks. “That’s like the whole thing. We’re trying to figure out who breaks first.”

He pulls you to the couch and you sit on opposite ends, letting the minutes tick by. You turn on the show Luke’s been watching, focusing on that rather than the– possibly placebo– effect of the aphrodisiacs rushing through your blood. It isn’t long before you’re absentmindedly running your fingertips over your bare thighs, sleep shorts riding up. Luke must get hot at some point, because he sheds his shirt. When his arms stretch over the back of the couch, his wingspan reaches far enough that he can almost touch you. 

You sigh wantonly without meaning to, catching Luke’s attention. He finds you playing with the collar of your t-shirt, tugging on it like it’s bothering you. Then, your dainty fingertips push down on the soft spot between your collarbones and neck. He watches you splay your fingers out after, thumb tracing the left side your collarbone and other four fingers resting on the right side. It almost looks like you’re choking yourself, but you’re absently watching the movie with a comforting, light weight on your throat instead.

Luke’s eyes, however, go wide. “Baby, stop,” he whines, leaning over and batting your hand away from your neck. “Distracting me.”

You laugh lightly and chase Luke’s hand with pinching fingers. “I’m distracting you?” you tease. “Didn’t know you were watching me.”

“You’re playing with your thighs and then putting your hand on your neck,” Luke complains. “You’re not being fair.”

“Sorry, baby,” you giggle. You get an idea, standing from the couch and shaking your limbs out, loosening up. You cross to the apartment window, overlooking the street below, and pretend to look out. You place your hands on the glass and shuffle back, ass cheeks visible beneath the hem of your short shorts. You lean slightly forward, looking at Luke over your shoulder. “I’ll be so still from now on.”

You spread your legs just past shoulder width and face the glass, breathing in time. You can see Luke’s reflection in the window and it’s wonderful, watching him try not to glance at you and growing awestruck when he does. You know he can see your panties beneath the scant gusset of your sleep shorts. You’re certain he keeps making eye contact with the wet spot seeping into the light blue fabric of your cotton panties beneath the shorts.

As he’s pretending not to stare at you, you shake your behind just enough to make it move.

Luke is on you in a flash, pulling your hips back until you’re bent at a near 90º, cunt flush with his hard length. He grinds against you, rutting as statements start to spill from his lips, each more unhinged than the last. 

“Fuck, baby, you want me so bad, presenting against the window like this. So beautiful, so perfect, all fucking mine. I love watching you squirm, love watching you take me.” 

Between sentences, he sheds his clothes. He pries yours away. He kisses your slit, the globes of your ass, the small of your back. 

“Can’t get enough of you. I want to cover you in my cum, mark you for everyone to see. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? That’s why you chose the window, right, baby? My baby wants to show the world how good she looks when I fuck her?”

His big hands grope your behind, cock sliding through your folds before catching on your entrance and probing inside. His thrusts start as aborted, half-chases, barely knocking into you or filling you at all.

“Tight and wet, feels so good. Gonna fill you up, my slutty girl. Want you begging for my cum, begging me to breed this needy pussy.”

His thrusts grow deeper, tip nudging the spot that has you whimpering and gasping. The glass in front of your face fogs from your breath and Luke continues punching it out of you.

He’s ramming into you now, hands planted on the glass well above yours. It’s fucking stupid, but your position reminds you of the letter K, and you’d tell Luke if he wasn’t still rambling, voice weary and far away, like he’s losing himself to the animalistic pleasure your cunt provides. He’s losing his sense, but he sounds better than he ever has.

“Made to be bred, made to carry my fucking babies, this pussy. Fuck me, baby, everything. Gonna give you what you want, gonna fill your belly with a baby and gonna do it right here, where everyone can see.”

[hearts4sammonroe]

phone sex with scotty boy NEOW (please)

AND MAY I BE 🐡 ANON IF NO ONE ALREADY IS

pairing: bf!scott x f!reader

contains: smut, phone sex, sub!scott, slight mocking/teasing, masturbation (m and f), dirty talk, orgasm (m and f), swearing, pet names: pretty, baby, gorgeous, pretty girl.

a/n: ofc you can be 🐡 anon!! I’m gonna be honest I love reading phone sex stories bc the authors make it so seggsy😛 but I’ve never wrote it so I hope i did it right! I also made it decade accurate bc it’s more spontaneous doing it through a call 😈

divider credit: @enchanthings-a

Scott Barringer was currently on vacation with his family. It hadn’t even been that long, but he missed you like crazy. He missed you, your laugh, your… anyway, you guys had been on the phone for a few minutes now. His parents had went for a walk on the beach, so he finally had time to jerk off.

“Miss you so much.” He says for the millionth time. “What are you wearing, pretty?”

“Those white pajamas you like.” You smile into the phone.

“And under that?”

That motherfucker was horny. You knew when he tried to smoothly ask that.

“Scott, are you hard?” You bluntly ask. A moment of silence was heard until he let out a guilty, “Yeah.”

“You’ll be back in two days.” You chuckle.

“That’s too long.” He whines immaturely. “I’ve already been gone four days, and we didn’t even get to do anything before I left.”

“Yeah, we did. We went for lunch, I helped you pack, and we cuddled for two whole hours.” You remind him.

“I mean that we didn’t get any action.” He groans. He was so sexually frustrated, he believed he had blue balls at this point. “I miss you. I need you. Need to feel you, to hear you.”

“You can hear me over the phone.”

And that’s what led you guys to have phone sex. You knew you’d probably look back and laugh at this in a week, but Scott being that horny and desperate made you horny, too. Scott had his phone pressed between his ear and shoulder so he could unbuckle his belt, and pull down his pants and boxers.

“Huhhh.” He moans, rubbing his tip that was already leaking so much pre. You were rubbing yourself softly over your panties, but Scott didn’t know that yet.

“Gonna touch yourself for me?”

You could practically hear his smile when he asked that. “Uh-huh.”

“Slide your hand into your panties, baby, feel how wet you are… fuck, I wish I could feel you.”

You moan softly into the phone, slipping your hand into your panties and sliding your fingers through your slick folds.

“I’m so hard it hurts.” Scott sighs shakily, slowly stroking his cock. “Need you so bad. As soon as I get home I’m gonna let you ride me… you can fuck yourself on my cock, just— hahh — use me…”

If you weren’t wet as fuck and masturbating with him right now, you’d probably laugh because he never gets this submissive.

“Yeah? You’d let me use you?” You tease.

“Mm-hm.”

“Would you let me edge you and make you beg to cum?”

“Fuck—“ Scott’s breath hitches. “Yeah, I would. Of course I would. I’m leaking so much already, baby. My cock needs you so bad.”

“Aww, it does?” You tease, honestly stifling a laugh as you heard him whimper. It was a little funny, but it sure did make your pussy drip.

“Jesus, fuck, I’m… you’re gonna make me cum too soon. I don’t wanna cum before you.” Scott pants, trying to slow his strokes on himself. “Need you to cum first, gorgeous. Let me hear you.”

You pleasured yourself faster, letting Scott hear it as you moaned into the phone. “I’m so wet for you. You hear it?”

“Mmph, uh-huh… I can’t wait to be inside you. Gonna fuck you so deep you’ll feel it for days, and I’ll— Nngh!— I’ll be rubbing your clit while I do it, so when you cum you’ll feel it all over. Be in so much pleasure.” He was trying to be dominant, but the way he was whining out his words proved otherwise.

“So close…”

“Yeah? You gonna cum for me, pretty girl? Please cum, please…” He begs.

Even through the phone, he could tell when you finally pushed over the edge. He could hear it in the way your pretty moans and whimpers rises in pitch.

“Fuck, baby! I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming— fuuuuck! Nngh…” Scott moans desperately, his cum spurting onto his belly and all over his hand. You came down from your high, panting and moaning softly into the phone.

“Shit. I made a big fuckin’ mess over here.” He laughs into the phone.

But he didn’t care. He was just glad he made you cum, and got to cum himself. He couldn’t wait to get back home to you.

taglist: @anakinstwinklebunny @haydenismyman @anisangeldust @cassielunaaa @madsluvsdilfs @mvst4far @divineani @alealuvshayden @prettiestmini @darthrenswiftie @devotedlypaleluminary @amiratheangel