#like I was sitting in my chair with one leg bent underneath me and the other resting sideways on a footstool with both damn hands on mouse

[pandaspwnz]

Milestone achieved: fell asleep at my desk

[xogiulianna]

THAT'S ALL YOU, BABY

hamzah's too busy to help you out.

"god.." you hear grumbling coming from the corner of your room, where your boyfriend's sat at his desk. "fuckin'.. stupid shit.."

you sit up, your gaze landing on hamzah's face, illuminated by the bright white glow of his computer screen. the clack of keys is loud in the quiet atmosphere of the dark bedroom, and if you squint, you're able to make out the thumbnails of numerous video clips on his screen.

you've been waiting for him to come to bed for hours - you were restless, and you began to toss and turn as he deals with editing a new video, one that he was hell-bent on finishing tonight.

hamzah hears the rustling of the comforter, his head whirling around to see you staring over at him. "shit.." he murmurs. "sorry, baby. i'm almost done, i promise."

"s'fine," you mumble, flinging the sheets to the side, dragging yourself out of bed and walking over to where he's slumped in his desk chair. "what's taking so long?"

"martin," he sighs, sliding his glasses off the bridge of his nose, setting them down before rubbing his temples. "he was supposed to help me out with this, but he's not responding."

"oh," you mutter, peering over his shoulder at the monitor. "you want company?" i ask, my voice low in his ear.

he peers at you, tilting his head back. "sure," he says, somewhat hesitantly, like he's reading your mind - seeing right through you, knowing that you want something.

you grab the armrest of his chair, swiveling it toward you. his eyes meet yours with an accusatory look underneath his dark lashes as you stand over him.

"what?" you ask innocently, a scoff escaping your lips as you slowly place yourself on top of his thigh, your legs folded up on either side of his leg. your body fits against his like a puzzle piece in the cushioned desk chair.

you can sense that he's already onto you, he just knows you that well.

"what're you doin'?" he whispers, resting his hands on top of your thighs, his middle finger tracing small circles against your skin.

"nothin'." you respond simply, reaching behind you to grab his glasses off the desk and slide them back onto his face, quickly kissing him on the cheek. "keep working."

"mm." he hums, obviously not believing you. he turns the chair back toward his desk anyway, scooting in and reaching around your body to keep clicking around the editing program.

you keep still for a few minutes, letting him edit while you cling to him. as you rest your head on his shoulder, you grow more impatient with each passing moment. the close proximity you placed on your bodies only weakens your grasp on your self control.

the truth is - you and hamzah haven't had sex in two weeks. his work stole away entirely too much time, he was constantly filming and working on projects, especially with the upcoming christmas series that he had planned for his channel. you had a job of your own, too, which was an entirely different story.

you two also have been hosting people at your apartment for the holidays. your friends - as well as his - have constantly been visiting and using your home as a place to crash for the night.

between all of this, you didn’t get much time alone with your boyfriend. your schedules just didn’t align, and when they did, you only made plans that involved other people.

point being, you had some pent up feelings, naturally.

suddenly, a groan in your ear sends a cold shiver down your spine, snapping you out of your spaced out mind. you now feel a bruising grip on each side of your waist.

your hips come to a still.

“mph, stop.. doin’ that..” hamzah growls, shifting his leg underneath you, holding you tightly to stop your subconscious grinding.

“shit,” you whisper, your body tensing. “i.. i didn’t even realize..”

hamzah keeps silent for a moment, breathing heavily.

eventually you feel his arm slightly flex as he lifts his hand away from his keyboard, his fingers sliding up your back and threading into your hair.

he tugs on the roots, picking your head up off his shoulder with a little bit of force, making you gasp. “look at me,” he rasps, sounding weak.

you peer down at him nervously, seeing his dark eyes scrutinizing you.

he tightens his hold on your hair as he speaks, “i’m busy.” he states. “but if you’re really that fucking desperate, then you can deal with it yourself.”

your stomach floods with heat at his words.

“what?” you whisper.

“you heard me,” he mutters darkly. “you wanna get off? go ahead, that’s all you, baby.”

“like.. you mean..” your eyes flick down to his thigh, where you’re straddling him.

“mhm, use it.” he says, letting go of your hair, his hand instead cradling your face. brushing his thumb against your bottom lip, he smirks. “do the work by yourself for once.”

you almost wanted to roll your eyes - sure, you could be a bit of a pillow princess sometimes, but that was because hamzah never necessarily wants you to put in an excessive amount of effort during your activities.

he always tells you to ‘just relax’ and ‘let him take care of you’ - so you just sit back and allow him do what he does so well.

he gets off on giving you pleasure. simple as that.

but this time, when he refuses to give you any of that attentiveness, you’re feeling so desperate that you’re actually going to have to listen to what he's telling you.

it’s no use protesting his ask, you know you’re going to give in.

you just can’t help yourself when it comes to him.

“are you serious?” you ask quietly, just to confirm.

“hundred percent,” he replies, dropping his hand from your face, pressing a kiss to your neck as his fingers trail down the sides of your body. “what, d’you think you can’t handle it?”

“no,” you answer immediately. “no.. i can do it.”

“that’s my girl,” he whispers, squeezing your thighs before he reaches around you once more, going back to his work, seemingly without a second thought.

you take this as a sign for permission to do whatever you wanted - whatever you needed. even if he didn’t have the time to pay attention, hamzah still wants you to feel good, no matter how much of a careless exterior he displays.

starting slow, you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into the crook of his shoulder as you start rocking your hips slowly against his thigh, the friction of fabric hitting your clit in the most perfect way possible.

but gradually, you get desperate. soft whimpers and moans slip past your lips, your body setting a quicker pace as you ride hamzah’s leg.

it was a little embarrassing, slowly becoming a mess on top of him while he sits and does work, only murmuring a few lazy words of endearment here and there.

your breathing becomes shallow as your arousal builds, your fingers quickly making their way down to tug your sleep shorts and panties to the side, needing to feel more.

your slick soaks the fabric of his sweatpants, fingers digging into his shoulders with frustration as the pace of your hips becomes delayed and erratic.

a low moan rumbles in your throat, your skin burning hot with the frustration of basically knocking yourself out over the pursuit of your own satisfaction - thinking hamzah's not paying attention, but he is.

with each little noise and movement you've made, his work continuously seems to be less and less important to him.

“why’re you slowing down, huh?” he rasps, noticing your vexation.

you can only whine in response, not necessarily wanting to admit that you were getting tired.

“poor thing,” he smirks. “just need me to do everything for you, don’t you?” he teases, taking hold of your waist.

“please,” you sigh sensually, directly into his ear, feeling him slightly shiver underneath you.

it doesn’t take much convincing for him to help you out. you know he wants to, anyways.

he can’t resist you just as much as you can’t resist him.

he keeps his grip steady on you while starting to press your hips down, slightly lifting his leg up into your core - and the immediate increase of pressure has you squirming.

he starts aiding in the guidance of your movements, rocking you back and forth as your body basically melts into him.

“fuckin’ needy girl..” he groans, his jaw clenched. “had to use my thigh to fuck yourself. so desperate.”

all the stimulation on your clit is enough to have you trembling with an building orgasm already, and hamzah can feel it.

“you're close already?” he growls, yanking on your hair again to get your eyes fixated on him.

he relishes in seeing the angelic expression on your face. your parted lips and the blush dusting your cheeks - just the mere sight of you makes him want to give you the world.

his work completely forgotten, he becomes dead set on making you cum on his thigh. “c’mon baby,” he urges, picking up the speed at which he’s rolling your hips. “finish what you started.”

"hamzah.." you cry out in exasperation, your head lolling back. "fuck.. fuck, feels so good."

"i know, angel, i know.." he coos, staring up at you in complete awe as you writhe on top of him. "you're doing so good.. making a mess like this.

you're to the point of no return - your lower stomach feels like it's twisted into a knot. "m'gonna.. oh, shit, hamzah!" you moan, high-pitched and whiny.

"uh-huh, that's it," he groans, hands slipping underneath your shirt, cold fingertips meeting your warm skin as you unravel underneath his touch. "fuckin' dirty, finishing on me so fast."

dizzy with lust, your orgasm courses through you in lengthy waves, practically making you see stars. your head falls forward, your damp forehead pressing against hamzah's, your mind blissfully dropping into pure relaxation.

"oh, my good girl.." hamzah's faint voice penetrates your clouded mind. he brings you down from your high, his thumbs brushing across your tensed abdomen. "so perfect."

your body twitches slightly as you melt against him, breathing in short gasps, trying to piece yourself back together.

"still working..?" you murmur the question teasingly, peeking up at him. you lazily slide your hand up his chest and across his face, your index finger pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose where they'd begun to slip down.

he chuckles, the rumbling in his chest vibrating against you. "no, baby. you're so distracting, y'know that? how would i be able to focus after this?" he says, sliding an arm underneath you and scooping you up. "let's go to bed."

————————————————————

a/n: please message me with anything you want me to write !! i wanna try and start writing for the sturniolos so if there's anything you want to see i'm open to all ideas

xo giulia

[boypied]

pairings: roomate!henry cavill x femboy reader

warnings: SMUT ! , swearing, rough fucking, hair pulling, spanking, praising and light degrading (slurs)

MDNI + FDNI !

You had just moved to New York, and you saw Henry's apartment listing in the yellow pages. You just had to go for it. The price was just right, the place was right near your new job, It was like fate!

It was in a safe neighbourhood, so it is unlikely you would get hassled for your dress sense. You wear more feminine clothes; like skirts, crop tops, knee-high socks.

On the day you moved in, your roommate wasn't home, so you had the place to yourself. You began to unpack the boxes for your room and place your little bits around the house to give it a sense of home.

You were wearing knee-high socks, a short skirt with a pink thong underneath, and a croptop. This whole outfit complimented your body so perfectly. Whenever you wear it, it has men gasping for you, wanting to have you whimpering below them.

Henry walks into his apartment as you were bent over to try to lift something heavy out of one of your boxes, and as you bent over, your skirt had gone up to reveal your thong.

Henry admires the shape of your ass. He quickly pulls out his phone to snap a picture before scoffing to get your attention, and you swiftly turn around. "Hey, you must be my new roommate. I'm Henry. " You shake his hand and notice how thick his hand is compared to yours.

Your eyes trail up from his hand, up his biceps, and notice some of his armpit hair poking out of his arm gap. Your body shudders slightly from how hot this man is.

"Is everything okay?" Henry asks while laughing slightly, "Yeah! Totally, everything's great!" You awkwardly laugh before picking up your box and walking to your room. "Your thong compliments your ass well," Henry shouts as you walk into your bedroom. Your face goes bright red, "Oh shit." You whisper.

THE NEXT DAY

You sit on the shared couch when you hear the loud creeky bathroom door open, and out steps Henry, towel hanging loosely around his waist, water dripping down his ripped hairy body, your eyes travel down his happy trail praying that his towel drops.

Henry sits down on the chair opposite the couch, manspread. He picks up his charging phone and starts scrolling. Your eyes travel down to his crotch and you are able to see under his towel, you gasp slightly at the thick size of his cock.

Henry looks up at you after he hears you gasp, "what?" He asks innocently while staring at you. He looks down and smirks."Ohhh." He opens his legs wider."You like what you see?" You face overcome with blush, you nod slightly.

Henry gets up and drops his towel. You stare at his body as he flexes. Your mouth begins to drool, Henry's cock begin to stiffen before he walked away. "tease," you mumble.

Over the next couple of weeks, you were both teasing each other. You made sure to wear short skirts and were constantly bending over in his eyeline, and Henry would constantly have his shirt off, or he would work out while wearing grey sweatpants with no underwear underneath.

You both couldn't handle it anymore and you just gave it.

Henry walks up behind, gently pulling your hair, he whispers in your ear; "I can't handle you walking around here in those skimpy little outfits, I need to have you around my cock"

You bite your lip at the feeling of his breath against your ear, he pushes your face against the counter while lifting up your skirt, he pulls his sweatpants down, spitting on his cock. He thrusts himself deep inside of you, You gasp "H-Henry!", "you like that? You like me fucking your faggy hole" Henry grunts as he spanks your ass.

Henry continues to thrust deep inside of you while spanking your ass, "You like when Im rough with you boy?" Henry groans as you moan against the kitchen counter."Answer when I speak boy" Henry says sharply while fucking you.

"I-I love it, Daddy!" You shout, Henry grabs the back of your hair pulling you up, your back pressed against his abs. Henry's grunts in your ears cause your cock to twitch and your hole to tighten around him.

Henry pulls out of you, flipping you over. "Fuck, look at how slutty you look" He groans as he lifts your legs up, round his waist as he thrusts back into you. He places his hands against your throat, and you stick your tongue out waiting for him to spit in your mouth.

"DADDY! I'm gonna -" You shoot your load over Henry's abs, Henry pulls out and pulls you onto your knees.

Henry jerks off and blows his load over your face, coating it in his hot cum. He pulls out his phone and snaps a picture of your face making it his wallpaper.

Henry scoops you up and carries you to his bedroom, laying you on his bed covering you with a blanket. He stares down at you, grabbing a towel to wipe your face, "I can get used to this." Henry smirks.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Green

Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Chapter Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Chapter Summary: Jackson believes in a green future, which includes marijuana. You like to get high. Tonight, Joel joins you and you get to treat him like he treats you. Chapter Warnings: Smut, marijuana use, soft dom reader, sub Joel, m receiving oral, unprotected p in v, riding Joel's thick thigh, you bite Joel's stomach (because it has to be done), Joel watching himself masturbate in your mirror, Joel drinks water out of your hands. Words: 5,100 A/N: Happy 4/20! I wanted to give you another entry akin to Golden Walkway, a little peek into the future of my Elks babies. Please note, this can be absolutely read without knowing any of the story.

Playlist

Times never change instead of hiding your illicit use from your parents, now you hide it from a teenager. Joel and you always lock yourselves away in your home so you can get high... just in case Ellie needs something. Can’t be a bad influence.

You pull the box of papers and weed out of the drawer before sitting down on your couch.

“So you never really smoked much?” you ask, leaning over your coffee table preparing to build your joint.

“Mm, never really was my thing, too risky if I got caught growing up in Texas during the 'Just Say No' years. Had football eligibility to worry about ‘n then Sarah came, just never was the time for me.”

He leans back into your armchair, brown eyes intently watching your actions. You begin to crumble weed up and place it on your rolling paper. 

“Makes sense, it’s good for me when my nerves really get to me,” you begin to roll your joint, “helps kinda soften the harsh lines of reality a lot. Makes my body and my mind a little freer.”

You lick your cigarette closed and admire your handiwork, welcoming the anticipation of being with Joel while stoned. 

The match sizzles as you strike it against the box and spark your joint, rotating it in your mouth to light it up. Joel chuckles as you inhale the first hit. 

“What’s so funny?” you ask in a cloud of exhaled smoke.

“Nothin'. Maybe I should get high, s'making me hard just watching you do this.”

“Oh yeah?” you sit back against the soft couch cushions, joint dangling from your lips. 

“Yeah, maybe I should start, never was one for smoking though.”

“Mm, I can help, I can just blow the smoke into your mouth if you want to try it." Your heart begins racing at the prospect of Joel taking you up on the offer.

“Sounds good sweetheart." He pats his lap. “Now, come sit with me, have nowhere to be tomorrow.”

You stand and grab the ashtray, resting the joint between your lips. Your bare feet pad across the plush carpet of the area rug as you walk over to Joel. 

“Hi,” you smile out with a small puff of smoke. 

“You look so cute like this, little cigarette sticking out of your mouth, eyes all cloudy and happy. Love it when my girl is happy.”

You giggle at his compliment as you lift your leg up to rest on the chair, your foot tightly fitting within what little room is left on the seat between Joel’s thick thighs. His mouth rests slightly agape when he looks up at you, his usual furrowed brow a lot less creased, more relaxed.

“I am happy,” you answer as his hands begin to massage your calf. “You look a lot less grumpier than you normally look. That makes me happy.”

“Oh really?” 

“Yep,” you say before inhaling another hit. 

“Why don’t you make me happier and sit on my lap, that’d make me really happy darlin’.”

A plume of smoke blows out of your lungs as you place yourself on Joel’s lap, knees bent against his thighs and the armrests. The denim covered shape of his half hard cock rests against your cotton shorts. Your tits underneath your faded and holey t-shirt are right at Joel’s eye level. 

“S’nice,” he whispers staring forward at your chest. 

“My eyes are up here Joel,” you chuckle at your own joke, taking another hit.

“I’d tell you to knock it off, but your whole body’s shaking against me ’n your tits are bouncing in my face,” Joel grins leaning forward and kissing a breast through your shirt. 

Fuck, now that feels amazing. 

You reach the joint out to him. “Hold this.”

He takes it between his fingers, eyes concentrating on you taking your shirt off. So much for relaxed Joel. He holds up the joint, still in his hands, to your lips.

“Take a hit baby,” his voice gravels out, his cock hardening underneath, “‘n lemme have some.”

You inhale and move your mouth to his, forming a tight seal between the two of you. Joel welcomes the smoke and sucks in as you blow out. 

You grab the joint from him and take another pull as he exhales, a white cloud of smoke floating above the two of you. Your body feels so much lighter, your brain less complicated. 

“Can I have that back?” he asks. “Want to do the same you did for me.”

You hand him the joint, smiling a silent agreement.

He brings it up to his mouth, holding it between his thumb and pointer, the joint disappears between his large fingers save for the glowing orange embers that light as he takes a hit. He looks so fucking tempting, his cheeks slightly puffing out filling with smoke. Everything Joel Miller does is hot, but the way he drags on a joint, pillowy lips wrapping around the white paper, broad shoulders rising when he breathes in, this might just be the hottest you’ve ever seen him. When will you ever get tired of looking at this man?

You bring your lips to his and he exhales into your mouth. Oh, this is the best way to get high. You pull away, releasing the smoke from your lungs.

“‘Bout shot, don’t you think?” he raises the joint and looks at it.

“It’s shot."

He stubs the joint put in the ash tray. A luxurious comfortable groan leaves his lips when he looks at you, eyes heavier than usual, a little red and glazed. You’ve seen his eyes glazed over with lust numerous times, this glaze is a little lighter, a little happier. You scoot farther up his lap and move a finger up to pet the smoothness of the little heart patch in his beard. 

“How are you feeling?” you ask as Joel’s hands trace up and down your back. 

“Good, real good,” a deep exhale out of his lips answers. 

“Relaxed?” You ask, your finger moving to brush back and forth across his lips. 

“Mm.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this free before. A light smile underneath half shut eyes staring back at you, his whole face more relaxed. He looks good this way, you love when he’s happy and relaxed, you’ve never met anybody more deserving.

“Feels good,” Joel says as you rub your finger across his soft lower lip. A deep breath leaves his half parted lips, the air blowing against your finger. “Real good.”

“Good,” your hand moves to trace around his top lip, the hair of his mustache bristles against your finger. “I like making you feel good.” 

You feel the the lines around his lips rise when he smiles. “You’re so good at it baby.”

“Yeah? What do you like the most?”

“Mm, s'hard to pick. Love the way your eyes always blink as you cum for me, can always tells how good you’re feelin’ by how big your eyes get right before. Love the little gasp you always make when I start fuckin’ you. Love that you grab for my hands at any chance you get, like you need to touch me as much as you can. Love that you always need me.” The last sentence comes out the softest.

“I do need you,” you confess, “all the time.”

“I know baby,” he hugs you against his chest, “I need you too… so much.” 

“But, I do also need you for sex stuff, you know?"

Joel’s chuckle vibrates against you. “My girl’s funny, real funny.”  

“But really, what do you need tonight Joel?” You pull away from his chest and look him in the eyes. You love it when he compliments you, you love it when he calls you his girl. You love that he needs you just as much as you need him. 

“I need you to tell me what you want from me tonight.  Make me yours. Talk to me like I talk t’ya.” Joel’s eyes staring into yours as they widen with his admission. “I’m yours baby.��

A bit of trepidation lands in your brain. Joel’s always the one to depend on to chart the stars of your intimacy. He’s so good at predicting what you want, you let him navigate. The thoughts are silenced once you feel his hands move along your hips and thighs. You can tell he wants you to do this for him. You want Joel to experience what you feel after he’s done with you. You want him to believe in you like you believe in him. You sit up higher on him, feeling braver and bolder. Ready to bless him for his confession. 

“Okay. I’m going to get up, walk to the kitchen to get something to drink, and when I come back, I want you to stand in front of my mirrored wall over there. Keep your clothes on.”

You’re shocked by the confidence in your voice. Joel as well, his hands pause their movement as you speak. He stares at you, his mouth slightly open in surprise. 

You rise up off of Joel, folding your arms across your naked chest. “Understand?”

“Y-y-yes,” Joel stutters. 

“Good,” you wink and turn towards the kitchen, your confident steps leaving a bewildered Joel in your chair. You’ve never acted like this, your brain swirling with ideas of what you want to do, what you want to say, how you want to make him feel. 

You grab two glasses out of your cupboard and fill them with water. Your mouth is parched, you’re sure Joel’s is too. You walk back to your living room, your courage building with each step closer. You know you’re ready when you see Joel standing as instructed in front of your mirror. 

“Hi handsome,” you walk to stand behind him, still topless and only in your shorts, his eyes moving from looking at his own reflection to your chest. You wouldn’t expect less from him, you love how he looks at you.

“Hi,” Joel whispers. You think he’s a little nervous, a little excited, he probably feels exactly how you feel. 

“I’m going to watch you watch yourself get undressed. I want you to listen to me and follow my directions, okay?”

“Yes,” his simple answer resolutely spoken as you put the waters down and turn the lamp on besides you, the light bathing both of you in a smoldering golden hue. You want to fully be able to watch Joel do what you have planned for him.

“Good, I don’t want to hear much from you, okay? I’m the one talking.” 

You like this feeling, you especially like the serious nod Joel gives you through the mirror. 

“Take your shirt off.”

You watch Joel’s hands move to the hem of his t-shirt and lift it over his head. 

“Give it to me,” you step forward and extend a hand out. 

The soft gray fabric is still warm with Joel’s body heat as it hits your hand. You bring it to your nose and inhale his scent. “You smell so good all the time. I love the scent of you.” You take one last sniff before putting his shirt on, his smell now encompassing you.

“Wh—“ 

“Quiet,” you interrupt Joel’s protest, “I don’t want to hear anything out of you, I want to smell like you and wear your shirt while I make you feel good.” 

He looks a little annoyed, you like that. 

“Look at your chest. It’s perfect. I love how your shoulders are so wide and so strong. I love how your arms are muscular and yet they’re so soft when I rest my head against them. I love how soft your stomach has gotten meaning you’re well fed and healthy. You like the praise baby?”

Joel nods as his eyes darken hearing you call him one of the pet names he always calls you.

“Unbutton and unzip your pants, but don’t take them off.” Your pussy getting wetter at the thought of the sights that you’re about to see, all directed by you. All broadcast on your mirror. 

Joel nods, as he unbuttons his jeans, his fingers move to his zipper and pulls it down. You love that he never wears underwear when he comes over. You love how you can see the trail of hair from his belly button down to his bush. He’s the perfect amount of hairy. He’s the perfect amount of manly. He’s just fucking perfect.

“Good. You’re thirsty right?” He nods. You lean over to the table and pick up a glass of water. “Drink all of this. Want to watch your neck move as you swallow it down.” 

Joel takes the glass and brings it to his lips, his eye contact not breaking with yours through the reflection. He takes a large gulp brows wrinkling with seriousness for the task at hand, no matter how significant or insignificant it is. It’s so Joel.

“I love watching you drink. I love how small the mug looks in your hand when you drink your coffee in the morning. I love how you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand after downing a whole glass of water when you’re hot. I love how gently form your lips around a glass of whiskey.” You finish your praise as he empties the glass, taking it from him and placing it on the table. 

“Good. Feel better?” 

He nods.

“Take your pants off,” you think of what Joel would say in this moment. “Lemme see all of you.” 

He smirks as he starts to move his jeans down his hips, he knows you’re going to love this part. His cock springs out as it’s freed, fully erect and throbbing, you knew you’d get him good and hard with your attitude. He bends over to shuck his jeans fully off, kicking them to the side, and when he stands up, shoulders back, dick hard and ready to follow your instructions, you almost fall to your knees. 

“God, you’re so fucking hot, baby,” you breathe out. His smirk still remains, he knows what he does to you. 

Your eyes roam his body, he’s so large and so thick, his body screams protector. He’s your protector. He provides for you. You love that you get to love him and make him feel this way. 

“I’m thirsty, why don’t you hand me my glass?” You love how seriously he follows your commands, like it’s the only thing that matters in the world. You love how powerful it makes you feel to see Joel readily do your every request. 

Joel turns towards the table and picks up the glass, handing it to you. 

“Thank you.” 

Another nod. 

You quickly drink the water down, save for the last quarter of it. “You’re still thirsty, aren’t you?”

This time it’s not just one slow nod from Joel, it’s three quick nods. He’s thirsty.

“Then come stand here in front of me.” 

You’ve enjoyed watching him from a couple of feet back, standing far enough to be able to see all of him in the mirror. Now that he’s right in front of you though, this is how you like him the most. Right beside you. 

You empty the rest of the water into your mouth, your cheeks swelling out with the amount you’re holding. You bring your palms up to your mouth and cup them together. Joel begins to breathe heavily as he watches you spit the water into your makeshift hand bowl.

“Now, drink it up,” you order.

He moves so fast, so eager to please. Joel’s head quickly craning down as his brown eyes look up at you. Your heart begins to race as his tongue comes out of his mouth and begins to lap up the water out of your hand. “I love how you’re looking up at me, you look at me the same way when you eat me out.” 

Joel grunts as he leans further forward and starts to suck the water up from your hand, never breaking eye contact. The groove of his dimple getting deeper as his cheeks hollow and he sucks up all of the water.

Now you wear Joel’s cocky smirk just like his shirt. You get to know him like he knows you, you get to play with his body like he plays with yours.

“Very good.” You move your hands to wrap around his erection, the slickness of the water allowing you to easily stroke him. A gruff breath leaves Joel’s mouth, the air landing against your face. You only leave your hands on him for a couple pumps, just enough until he begins to arch his back. His eyes widen as you remove your hands, a small “mmf�� is let out of his pursed lips.

“I know, I know, I know you want more. You’ll get it soon. You’re being real well behaved for me, aren’t you?” 

Another nod. Joel still hasn’t spoken a word, you miss his voice but you also like to watch him challenge himself to stay quiet. 

“Face the mirror again Joel.”

He likes it when you say his name, he’s told you so many times how he likes to hear your voice say his name. 

“Touch yourself for me Joel.” 

His heavy eyes slowly shut as he bites his bottom lip with a moan, he liked that… a lot. He opens his eyes and with a look of determination, he spits in his hand before moving it down and gripping his shaft as he looks at you for his next command. 

“Stroke yourself for me.” 

He begins to slowly pump himself, savoring and watching himself in the reflection. His gaze anchoring in on pleasuring himself.

You wonder when the last time he did this was.

“When’s the last time you made yourself cum?” His movements falter as he looks up at you and takes in your question. “Go ahead, you can talk, tell me.” 

“That last night you were painting f’me,” a half smile shows up on his face as he begins to stroke again. 

Now you’re the one who only nods, your words lost at his confession. “Go on,” you muster up. You need to hear more. 

“Went to bed that night, ’n all I could see was your pretty eyes lookin’ up at me, how you looked in those overalls, I felt like I could still feel your lips on mine.” His strokes getting quicker, his hand pausing as he twists his hand around his tip. “Was so hard for you, had to take care of things before I could fall asleep.” 

Your whole body shivers, his words making your pussy begin to drip out onto your shorts. The look of his face as he recalls his memories. Those words added to all of his others that prove to you again that you have Joel’s heart, mind and body. He is yours. 

“God. Th—that’s good,” you breathe out, your eyes widening when you watch him bite his lip as he squeezes his cock. He has you flustered, and he knows, his mouth grinning into the signature cocky smirk he gets whenever you get like this. As if his sense of self blooms whenever he makes your heart race. 

You can’t allow him this pleasure over you, you’re the one in control tonight. You remind yourself that this is what Joel wants. You steel yourself and stand a little taller. 

“Stop,” you bark out. 

He obeys, mouth slacking open in shock at your raised voice. His hand unwrapping from around himself. 

“Good job, I think you were getting a little too comfortable, weren’t you?” 

Joel just stares at you, seems he forgot to nod. 

“I can’t let you have the power tonight, can I? Acknowledge me Joel.”

“N—no,” an actual stutter from Joel Miller’s mouth. Not a grunt, not a short one word answer, an actual nervous stutter. 

“That’s right. Now, I think you’ve had too much fun putting on a show for me. Go sit in the middle of the couch.” 

He nods, his broad frame passes by you, he doesn’t even take the time to look at you. 

You follow behind and wait until he takes a seat. You love seeing Joel on your couch, in your bed, using one of your bowls to eat oatmeal out of. You love seeing him in your space, all comfortable and domestic, but seeing him now naked on your couch, his hard cock sitting straight up, his large hands sitting atop his strong thighs, shoulders taking up most of the backrest of his seat, sitting ready to listen to your commands.  This is how you really like to see him. He’s fucking gorgeous. 

“So, you had your fun with your body, I want to have my fun with your body,” you stand over him. Now your body gets to loom over his. 

You bring the collar of Joel’s shirt up to your nose, inhale deeply and moan. “Have I told you before how much I love how your smell? Sometimes I’ll be wearing one of your shirts to bed I’ll smell your scent on it and it’ll make me wet while I’m trying to go to sleep.” The sound from Joel’s mouth makes you bolder. “One night, I might just knock on your door, in only your shirt and my jacket, make you help me take care of what smelling you does to me. Would you like that?” 

Joel shudders and furiously nods.

“Ohh, had a feeling you would,” you chuckle as you remove his shirt off of you. “I’m going to do something I've been wanting to do, okay?”

A nod, a groan, and a sigh now. The more reactions you get at once, the more you know how good you’re doing. 

You pull down your shorts, and kick them aside. His fingers grip into his thighs, his forearms straining at the sight of you. He’s going through it. 

“Can you see me glisten for you baby?” You ask as you lift your foot onto the couch cushion and snake your hand down in between your legs. “See how wet I got watching you touch yourself for me?” You take a finger and run it across your folds gathering your wetness. You hold it up for Joel, his eyes glued to your finger. “Open your mouth.” 

He listens. You slide your finger into his mouth, his lips forming around it, a low moan vibrating against it. 

“Put your hands on the couch, you can’t touch me, you can only watch. Okay?” 

Joel obeys. He still sucks your finger as you straddle his thigh. His skin radiates heat against you once you place your wet pussy on it. You’ve wanted to do this since you saw his bare legs for the first time, his thighs are so muscular and yet so supple, much like the rest of his features. Joel groans as you begin to ride his thigh, rubbing yourself back and forth against his skin. 

“You like how wet my pussy feels on your thigh?” You pull your finger out of his mouth. “Answer me Joel. Want to hear your voice.”

“Yes.”

“What do you like?” 

“Your wet pussy on my th— I like your wet pussy on my thigh,” his low cadence and the pressure against your aching cunt pushing you close to your orgasm.

“I’m going to make myself cum on your thigh, okay? I’m so close.” You begin to grind your hips down on his his thigh, putting the perfect amount of friction against your clit. 

Your hands splay against Joel’s chest, feeling his breaths and his moans rumble against your palms.

“I’m gonna cum on your thigh Joel.” You grab and pull on his chest hair as your climax reaches you, cresting over and spilling onto Joel’s thigh as you grind against it. Joel’s eyes boring into you looking forlorn and tortured that he can’t touch you as you cum on him. 

You rest your head against his shoulder as you catch your breath. You need to recover quickly, you’re ready to ride him. 

Joel grumbles as you stand back up. 

“Would you look at that? Look down baby, look how wet I got your thigh.” You place your hands on his thighs, a hand resting in the puddle of your slick left on his skin. You lean forward as he looks down and nibble the bare skin of his heart patch before licking your way down his neck and chest. “Should probably clean that up, huh?” You ask as your rest your lips against the plush of his belly before gently biting it. 

He groans as you move your mouth down, bypassing his hard cock to the side. You stick your tongue out and lick a long stripe up his thigh tasting yourself as you clean his skin. His breathing turns more labored as he watches you lick yourself up.

“Mm, wonder how I’d taste licking my cum off your cock?” You ask, nuzzling your head into his crotch, his hard cock throbbing against your cheek.

His hips jut as you turn your head and kiss the shaft of him. 

“You’re going to cum fast for me, aren’t you?” You leave a kiss on his shaft higher than your last one.

“I love how hard you always cum for me,” another kiss moving your way up his hardness. 

“I love the way you fuck my mouth while you cum down my throat,” another kiss.

“I love the way my name sounds as you chant it when I make your legs shake,” another kiss right under his tip.

“I love how your cum tastes as I lick it from my lips,” another kiss on his tip, tasting the precum collected on it. 

“Fuck,” he finally utters, not being able to hold back as you lick along the trail of where you just kissed him.

“Shhhh,” you silence against the soft skin of his firmness. “I think it’s about time for me to fuck you, before you get any more ideas about talking.”

Another deep exhale from him, his nose flaring in frustration. You fucking love this. 

“Put your hands on the top of your head, and don’t you dare lower them. Don’t touch me, okay?”

Joel nods raising his hands as you plant yourself back on the couch, straddling his legs. His eyes follow your body, his brows a bit more furrowed now. 

You hover your pussy over his cock, leaving enough space between the two of you that if he really wanted, he could raise his hips and stick his cock in, but he doesn’t. He wants to do good for you. 

“Open your mouth,” you angle your head forward, your lips right in front of his. Joel’s mouth opens, his heavy breathing hitting you in the face, as you lick into his mouth.

You swirl your hips over his cock slowly lowering yourself on him, you’re so soaked for him he easily slides into you. 

A long sigh escapes the back of his throat as you begin to ride him. You pull back from his mouth and rest your hands against his chest. His hands still sit on top of his head, you glance up and see how he’s grabbing at his hair in exasperation. 

He watches as you move your hands from his chest to yours, cupping your breasts and playing with your nipples. 

“Like watching me touch my tits like the way you do? Like how I pinch and pull my nipples like you?”

High pitched moans and groans of frustration leave his mouth. Joel Miller is whimpering. 

“Shhhh, shhh, I know baby. Now quiet. Want to hear my wet pussy ride you, stay quiet,” you say grabbing his jaw and pushing his mouth shut. 

You begin fucking him harder, the sound of your wet cunt bouncing on him and his whimpers the only sounds in the room. You lean forward and rest your head in the juncture between his head and shoulder. You slam yourself up and down on him, the rapidness of your movements matching the rapidness of your heart as you bring yourself close to your orgasm.

Your back straightens as you place your hands on his biceps, staring in his big brown eyes as your body snaps, your pussy clutching his cock as you cum around Joel. He bites his bottom lip fighting his orgasm for as long as he can. His biceps straining against your grasp as you feel his body begin to quake. 

“Clooooose,” he husks. You slip out of him, moving quickly on shaky legs through the aftershocks of your orgasm kneeling down in front of him. His hands are still in his hair as he looks down at you, watching you seal your mouth over him. You bob your head up and down on him as he cums down your throat. 

You swallow all of him down as he chants your name. His hands lower, resting against the hollows of your cheeks as you still keep his softening cock in your mouth.

You stare up at him, his hair left awry and twisted from his hands, eyes wide and still blown out as he blinks down at you, his chest rising and falling still catching his breath. He looks at you, like you’re the only thing in this world. You are the center of his universe. 

[bump1nthen1ght]

A Very Monstrous Kinktober (2024) Day 30 - Spanking

Kink: Spanking

Pairing: M!Reader x M!Werewolf

Other kinks: Pet play, Degradation, Slight infantilization, Mutual Masturbation

Word Count: 1543 words

Kinktober Masterlist

“You know,” A claw digs into your neck, “-we don’t have to do this.” You suck in a breath through your nose, the collar being tightened around your throat nearly stealing it from your lungs. “Or, I guess I should say, we wouldn’t have to do this if you just behaved.” Another tug, yanking you forward as the leather is pulled to the farthest notch, finally tight enough for Ferdinand’s liking. He pushes the metal strap through, locking it in place. The leather itself is comfortable, but the hold it has on your neck is less so. Not enough to have you choking, but definitely enough to remind you its there. “Do you understand me?”

You nod, voice caught by the suffocating collar. Another yank, this time from the leash, Ferdinand’s claws digging into the back of your skull. He forces your head backwards, looking straight into his blown out pupils.

“I said-” His claws dig in, “Do you understand me?”

This close, you can see his nostrils flaring, smell his hot breath as it blows across your face. His muzzle is so close your noses almost touch.

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Then apologize.” Ferdinand sneers, lips curling back to show rows and rows of pearly white canines.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“For what?”

“For disobeying you.”

He releases his grip on your head, his rougher paw pads rubbing at the raw skin. His face is still curled up in a sneer, but he looks slightly more pleased.

“Good boy.” Ferdinand tugs hard on your leash, forcing you to fall over, face resting against his legs. He huffs. “Now, follow me.” His hand loops around the leash, keeping the line taut as he saunters off to his chair. His chair, not your chair, far too plush and opulent for a disobedient pet like you. Your knees feel raw against the hardwood, forced to crawl on all fours and follow him. Goosebumps ripple across your skin, the air icy-cold and biting against your bare body. Ferdinand always keeps it that way, his thick fur and love of bespoke suits meaning he gets hot easily.

Ferdinand elegantly sits down, a sizeable bulge pitching in his iron-pressd pants. It’s the only indication of his true intentions, that despite his sneers, he loves when your disobedient. He yanks on the leash again.

“Sit across my knees.”

You scramble up him, careful to not dirty his fine clothes with your hands that touched the floor. He’s so warm, it’s hard not to curl up into his lap and touch him all over. No, that would mean more punishment.

The bulge digs into your lower abdomen, dangerously close to your own hard-on, which pulses with blood as you arch over Ferdinand's legs. It was robbed from release earlier today, having been caught humping your masters pillow when he returned early from work. It ached for his touch, his smell, his everything. It twitches when a rough hand brushes across your ass, admires the shape of your cheeks, bent over and at his discretion.

“We’ll start with five.” Ferdinand whispers. “One for each minute you spent…debauching yourself before you realized I was home.” His claws flick out, the sharpness now dancing across the fat. “If you’re good, that’s all it will be. So make sure to keep count, this time.”

Ferdinand yanks on the collar again, another reminder of his control. You gulp, remembering the way your ass stung for days when you messed up counting last time.

He’s slow, drawing his arm back, just torturing you with anticipation. But his strike is anything but slow.

“One!” You gasp, digging your nails into your palms.

“Good.” Ferdinand whispers under his breath. He reels back and strikes you again, on the other cheek.

“Two!” You feel his bulge twitching underneath you. The feeling goes straight to your cock, balls aching.

He hits twice, in rapid succession, one for each cheek. You feel dizzy, but still count.

“Three! Four!” Ferdinand hums, displeased. You’ve kept up so far, only one left to catch you lacking and try to prolong your punishment. He’s got to be tricky.

“A-ah!” The warmth of Ferdinand's hands on your balls is shocking, your spine curling. Pre-cum beads at your tip, mind and body disconnected from their wants.

“Ugh, look at what you’ve done, pet.” Ferdinand cranes his head, eyes up your leaking cock. “You’ve stained my favorite trousers.” His hands leaves your balls and squeezes your cock instead, more pre gushing down your shaft and all down Ferdinand’s inner thighs. “That’ll be three more. Keep counting.”

Ferdinand leaves a grip on your cock, teasing you by keeping it rigid and still, just holding around your shaft. His other hand spanks, hard.

“Five!” The words barely get out when he slaps again. “Six!” And again. “Seven!”

Ferdinand tightens his grip and squeezes up your dick. Your hips, independent of your better sense, ruts into his palm. Ferdinand clicks his teeth.

“I didn’t say you could move. Two more.”

Ferdinand’s hand moves like a machine, ramping up its speed and landing the next two quickly.

“Eight! Nine!” The hand on your cock has reached your sensitive head. It squeezes, then slides back down, jerking you off in slow motion. “Te-en!” Neck aching, you rest your forehead against the chair’s arm. The sweat peppering your brow hasn’t even settled into the fabric before you realize that you’ve fucked up.

Three more slaps across the ass.

“Don’t touch the chair.”

“E-eleven.” You gasp for breath, vision foggy as you force your head to crane up. “Twelve….thirteen.”

Ferdinand pauses, what would be a mercy except for the treacherous anxiety it leaves you with.

A muscled, furry arm circles around your stomach, yanks you like a ragdoll and twists you around. It positions you to be sitting on Ferdinands lap, his raging hard on now right in front of your weeping one.

“I see you learned your lesson from last time.” Ferdinand hums, muzzle nuzzled into the back of your neck. “You did good, but I think you still have a lesson to learn.”

You bite your lip when Ferdinands cock flops out, hot and throbbing. It’s also weeping precum, the veins prominent and the head a dark purple.

A million possibilities fly through your mind. Does he want you to jerk him off, suck him off, edge yourself while he achieves his high? But then grasps his own cock, rubbing his thumb across the wet slit.

“Touch yourself, pet. Finish what you started.”

A whine comes from your chest. Now you get it.

Your hand isn't nearly as big as Ferdinands, nor as warm. Your body yearns for him, to lean down and kiss his cock. But that would be counterintuitive to your lesson; if you won’t wait for your master to pleasure you, then you don’t deserve to jerk him off. Or for him to jerk you off, for that matter.

Still, the heat in your belly burns as Ferdinand strokes his perfect cock. Drool pools in your mouth, your pace sloppy up and down your dick. Your breathy whines are pathetic, hips humping into your tight grip, trying to recreate the feeling of his hand on you. But you could never match Ferdinands grace, the warmth of his paw pad and his controlled strokes.

You arche into Ferdinand’s lap, turning your face to nuzzle into his neck. At least you can smell him when you jerk off, stuff your nose into his fur and huff his musky pheromones. He’s feeling nice, not forcing you to look ahead, instead stroking up and down your chest with his free hand.

“I do this for you, little one.” Ferdinand pants, dulcet voice directly in your ear. The slapping sound of his hand jerking himself off rings in the background. “Because you need to learn, need to remember your place. It’s for your own good.” His hips jump up, throwing you slightly in turn. You moan. “You need me, need me to guide you. To show you what’s right.”

The breath hitches in his chest, you can feel it catch against your back. He’s getting close, and if you’re lucky he’ll cum up your stomach, let you at least bathe in his scent for a bit longer. Maybe even let you suck him clean after, feel him soften in your mouth. The knot in your stomach pulls atut.

“Cum for me, pet. Cum all over yourself.”

That’s the permission you need.

“Ah!” Your whole body spasms as you explode in your hand, cum splattering across our stomach. When you are still riding the high, your master cums. Seems he was impressed by your obedience, as he aims it right when he does to splatter all across your chest. It goes high enough to reach your neck, thick and viscous and plenty to cover your whole abdomen. The excitement has you dizzy, seeing spots.

You collapse into your masters lap, still conscious enough to not fall off and potentially stain his chair. No, your master wraps an arm around your stomach and keeps you lying against him, whispering in your ear.

“See? You can be good after all.”

[feraltragedy]

Just a short Noah drabble, part 2 whenever I can get my thoughts into words.

No content warnings apply for this one, just a hot boy in a mask and mild adult themes.

@thelesbianwithissues @concreteangel92 @madomens @lilhobgobbler

Ghost

I send a text to my best friend telling him I have great news I want to share. His reply a short ‘I'm home bunny.’ With the letter in my hand, I make my way to his house.

Coming through the door of the house I see the faces of my friends except Noah. “Upstairs, he's getting ready to stream.” Nicholas is quick to notice my searching eyes.

“I've got some really good news, let me share with Noah first and I'll come back down and tell you guys too!” I head for the stairs and make my ascent.

Noah was the only one who knew about The Tortured Poet Society reaching out to me after finding a story I had posted. When they wanted me to send in a portfolio for review to possibly land me a seat at the round table, I had called him immediately freaking out. I didn't want to tell anyone else about the application. If they rejected me, it would just be a disappointment. They are like the most elite book club, some of the best authors make up the table.

Reaching my best friend's room I opened the door, stepping inside I almost forget why I'm here. The sight before me clouding my already excited mind.

“You're really gonna stream like that, sweets?” His shoulders only shrugged in response. “I got the letter today.” Holding the piece of paper up, I make my approach.

He sits low in his chair, hips all the way forward and long legs spread wide. My eyes can't help but rake up his form, from his lap where his hand rests on his thigh, up his bare torso and landing on the mask hiding his face. Tattoos on display, and freckles painting the tops of his shoulders.

Normally I wouldn't think twice about plopping myself on his lap. But this all feels too intimate. I'm pretty sure I don't have a thing for masks, but knowing it's him underneath the Ghost cosplay is setting me ablaze. I stand directly in front of him, just between his knees to read the letter.

As I'm reading I don't realize my left leg has risen to rest on his thigh, bent at the knee. A warm hand on the top of my thigh just below the hem of my skirt makes me suddenly aware of just how I am encroaching on his space.

“Uh, so yeah, I'm in! I can't believe I'm actually in!” “I already knew they would love you bunny. You're so good.” He spoke for the first time and his voice is lower and deeper than usual, getting husky with his last statement.

A noise from his computer cuts through the haze, his stream friends are waiting for him. I bite my lip and sit the letter down on the desk, placing both my hands at the top of his chest. My fingers rest against the chain around his neck, the cold material a stark contrast to his hot skin. His hand on my thigh slides up slightly as I lean in, planting a kiss on the mask. I move my head close to his ear and give my best sultry whisper.

“I'll let you get to your stream, sweet boy.” I pull away, making a show of letting one of my hands trail down his torso as I bring myself back to standing. Instead of turning to walk away I opt to back away slowly, drinking as much of him like this as I can. My hands interlocked behind my back, a subconscious move to keep me from reaching out for him more. “I've got an early morning, I'll see you tomorrow.” “You can count on it, bunny.”

I reluctantly make my way out of the room, eyes never leaving his form until the door blocks my line of sight. For once, I don't care if he knows the effect he has on me. Instead, I want him to know.

Downstairs I share the news with the rest of the guys. “Congrats bunny!” Matt says, not knowing the sultry way that nickname fell from Noah’s masked lips just moments before. Each of the boys congratulate me and pull me into an array of tight hugs before I leave for the night.

My car feels quiet and empty. I turn on some music, body still hot and mind cloudy. Pulling out of the driveway, “The Feels” by Labrinth and Zendaya plays.

That boy will be the death of me.

[daydream-cement]

My Neighbor Lady (NSFW)

Characters: Larissa Weems x F!Reader

Synopsis: You are stuck in a failing marriage and your husband takes you on a work trip. Your only solace is the fact that your beautiful neighbor seems to have eyes for you.

Authors Note: Thank you to the GCG for helping me come up with this brilliant idea for a fic.

Truthfully, you couldn't understand why he chose to hold on to your marriage. He kept assuring you that this trip would be a chance to rekindle your relationship, but then when you are left alone together, he completely ignored you.

Each day when he left for work, you would retire to the pool, enjoying a book and trying to forget about your reality. Well, that was until a black car pulled up and her tall frame stepped from it. She looked like a pin-up from the 1950s. She was an utter dream with her red lips and cream-colored fitted dresses.

You licked your lips when she bent over, leaning into the trunk. She was so beautiful you couldn't help but stare and watch her take her bags in the cabin. She came back out to the car, a final time to grab her purse, and she glanced up at you. She noticed your staring as you sat by the pool and she gave you a small smile before heading back inside her new temporary residence.

You move to lay on your stomach, looking to get an even tan. The book wasn't nearly as interesting as the thought of that beautiful woman. Not a thought of your husband passed through your mind. You were too busy thinking about that body. Her legs. That Ass.

A shadow blocked the sun from your book, interrupting you not reading it. "Excuse me."

You look up and there she is. The sun seems to halo around her and you wondered for a moment if she was an angel towering above you. Your mouth gapes open and you lean up on your elbows to get a better look at her. She is wearing a sheer swimsuit cover but you can easily see her beautiful pale body underneath. Her legs seemed to lead all the way up to heaven.

She noticed you admiring her body and she cleared her throat to gain your attention, "I'm new here. My name is Larissa. Can I sit by you?"

You finally look up to her face and, of course, she is even more beautiful up close. You watch her closely as she takes a seat on the lounge chair next to you. She pulls the swimsuit cover over her head and soon you are leering again.

Larissa folds up her coverup and soon notices you staring once more, "Um, what might your name be?"

You shake your head and push yourself into a sitting position, so you could actually have a polite conversation with this gorgeous woman, "Sorry, I was... distracted. I'm Y/n. I live across the street there. "

"Lovely. I'm glad to see we will be neighbors." You watch as her eyes drift from your face down your body. Larissa made it obvious she was staring at your breasts, hips, and legs. You watch as her tongue wets her lips, her gaze returning to meet yours, "So what do you do for fun around here?"

-----

The next day you began thinking about Larissa as soon as you woke up. Your husband getting ready in the bathroom was an afterthought. Last night was wonderful with her. You had shared a bottle of wine and chatted intimately, getting to know one another. You even spilled the woah's of your marriage with her and she began sharing the frustrations of her career.

Larissa was initiating contact all evening with her hand touching your arm or leg as she laughed. When she walked you to the door of her cabin, her hand was pressed to the small of your back. She leaned down and whispered in your ear as you left, "I hope we can have even more fun tomorrow."

You double and triple checked your appearance before you met Larissa out by the pool. She was resting in a pool float when you arrived. Her eyes were covered by large sunglasses and she had one leg resting in the water. Even though it was early in the morning, the temperatures were already soaring. You stared at her from the edge of the pool, licking your lips at the sight of all of her exposed skin.

"Stop staring and get in." Her words are utterly relaxed but you felt the anxiety shoot through you. She always seemed to catch you when you were staring. Leaving your belongings on a lounge chair, you take a seat at the edge of the pool near Larissa.

You stop yourself from audibly sucking in a breath when she moves her float closer to you, placing a hand on your knee to keep herself close. Her thumb moving gently in circles. You mouth ran dry and you wondered if you were going to be faint. You felt a ache between your legs that you knew you would have to take care of when you went home.

That wasn't all. Her hand crept higher, stopping about mid thigh and she spoke to you so casually, "You know, I saw this little cafe when I was driving here. Maybe we could grab lunch there today."

"Mhmm." You took and deep breath and leaned back on your hands, trying to ignore how wet you were becoming from her manicured hand that lingered on your leg. The images of Larissa pulling your bathing suit to the side, her fingers dipping in and out of you, perhaps she owned a sex toy she could-

"Y/n, are you even listening to me?" She sat up in her float, moving her other leg off the side so she could face you. She balanced herself with her second hand on your other other thigh. Could you cum without her even touching you sexually?

You open your mouth to speak but no words come out. Instead you just choose to nod and hum, feigning like you were paying attention.

"Am I making you nervous?" Her hands moved higher and you felt your pussy throb at how close her long fingers were to your heat. You felt her hands move down again, her fingers grasping your knees and shifting your legs apart. Your breathing was heavy and you glance around, making sure that no one was looking, "I see the way you look at me."

You glance back down at her and she had slipped off her float, standing in front of you. You had forgotten how tall she actually was. Her hands leave your thighs and she props her head on her hands, her elbows resting between your legs.

She kept going, "Would you like to kiss me?"

Her bottom lip is between her teeth. She slowly releases her lip and her mouth opens ever so slightly and you see her tongue twisting in her mouth, teasing you. You still hadn't spoken, so she backed off a bit, sliding away from you and backing into the pool, "Maybe you should join me in the water..."

You didn't have to be told twice. You slid in the pool not caring if it seemed like you were chasing after her.

"Eager are we." She moved towards you as soon as your body hit the water. Larissa gathered you in her arms and you were pressed against the edge of the pool, her leg coming up between your legs. Her hands wrapped around your middle and your mouth was now a watering at the feeling of her breasts against yours.

"Please..." You could only make out the one word. You wanted her terribly.

Her face moved closer, leaving an inch of space that she expected you to close. You did without hesitation. Her lips were incredibly soft and you were ready to deepen the kiss immediately. You moaned into her mouth and moved your hands to the sides of her head to kiss her deeply.

Truly, you didn't even know this woman, but you were ready to be on your hands and knees before her. You couldn't help yourself when you ground your hips down on her thigh. The aching between your legs was becoming unbearable.

Larissa parted the kiss with a delighted hum, "Oh, do you need something from me, baby? Is that silly husband of yours not giving you what you need?"

You take the moment to look up and around the pool again, hoping no one was watching or listening, "I want you... Fuck me, please..."

Her hand slipped between you and she began playing with your clit under the water. Now you began moving your hips against her hand, knowing that it wasn't going to take much for you to cum. You were on edge just from her touch.

"Can you imagine what I could do to you with that vibrator I have back in my room? I would love to see you writhing on my sheets. Or should I sit on that pretty face?" She growls in your ear, her fingers working even quicker against you. Your hips jerk against her hand in response, knowing your orgasm was drawing near.

"Yes, please... I want all of it... I want all of you..." You gasped, trying to keep yourself quiet. Larissa loved your words and she wanted all of you as well.

You came with a muffled scream, burying yourself into Larissa's shoulder and keeped your jaw shut to prevent your voice from carrying.

"Perhaps we should continue this at my cabin." Larissa whispered in your ear as you gripped her tight, still coming down off your orgasm. Once you had this taste of Larissa, you knew you would need more. You wanted to hear her moans. You wanted to feel more of her touch.

That day you skipped lunch and dinner in exchange for eating Larissa. Once you were in her cabin, she closed her bedroom door and pushed you to the bed, stripping you of your bathing suit. She pulled the ties of her bikini and the pieces of fabric went falling to the floor.

Everything about your sex was so unabashed and uninhibited. You basked in the feeling of her body against yours. For the time you were with her, you forgot of your ailing marriage. you could only think of the way her long fingers slid in and out of you or relish in the fact that lipstick stains would cover your body.

She walked you through giving her head. Larissa tasted devine and her moans were even better. You were even proud of yourself when you gave her two orgasms on your first go around. Afterwords, you lay in each other's arms, basking in the after sex glow when you realized it must be getting late, "What time is it?"

Larissa turned from you, picking up the watch she had discarded onto the nightstand, "Almost 7pm."

"Oh, dear. My husband is home from work. I have to go." You gathered your bathing suit and pulled the cold and wet fabric against your body. Next you, wrapped your towel around yourself.

As you dressed yourself, Larissa sat up in bed her words and hands trying to stop you, "Do you really have to? You didn't go back home until 10 last night..."

"Yes! I don't need him being suspicious. I already stayed too late."

Her hand caught the fabric of the towel, pulling you closer to her. You gave in and bent down to give her a final kiss. Larissa smiled and murmured against your lips, "You are covered in my lipstick..."

You gasp and pull yourself from her grasp, heading towards the bathroom to clean yourself up. Larissa tries stopping you once more as you head to the front door, pressing her lips to yours. The old married couple a house down watched you do the walk of shame from Larissa's cabin. Old Luci and Em rocked in their chairs and smirked as they knew what you had been up to with Larissa.

Link to Part 2

[drunkewok]

Tiger Inside

Chapter Eighteen

Stray Kids Mafia (ongoing)

Masterlist

Likes, reblogs and feedback always greatly appreciated

WC: 3.6k

Pairing: Lee Know x reader

Genre: Series, Enemies to lovers, non-idol AU, Mafia AU

Synopsis: After years spent away from the family, two strangers start frequenting your place of work, only to bring daunting news. Flung back into the world of the mafia, you try to adapt to your new normal and work alongside a team of eight skilled members to uncover a mystery and take down an unknown enemy.

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, drinking, swearing, violence, weapons

Disclaimer: Any portrayal of Stray Kids or any other idols in this story is purely fiction and does not at all reflect their own personalities or how I view them as a person, it is purely for the sake of the story.

Please do not copy or repost my work

When Seungmin last dressed my wound, I couldn't help but notice the equipment strewn across his desk. He was elbow deep in tests besides the few times he cut away to help me, brows furrowed at the puzzle of chemicals that sat before him. I couldn't even think of where to begin if I was in his position, instead staring beakers down in hopes of some epiphany ringing loud in my ears. 

My fingers tapped my knee as he turned to grab new gauze, my eyes wandered across the table in the far room. Vials and jars galore, notes scribbled upon journal pages, and a light sitting in the corner of the desk reflecting off the different glass containers and illuminating their mysterious contents. 

The familiar signs of sleepless nights were now manifesting under his eyes, the same ones that were prominent on both Chan and Felix's prior. I watched his face as his hands made slow work on my shoulder, his movements delayed from exhaustion invading his body. His eyes felt hollow, drooping as his lips sat slightly parted, almost as though the act of breathing even took too much of his energy. 

“How long have you been at it?” Seungmin paused as his eyes steadied the floor, the gears in his mind slowly turning and jamming at my question. He shook it off before tearing the strip of gauze at the end, turning his back to me and placing it on the table beside him.

“I don’t know, since we got back?” 

“Have you slept at all?”

“Here and there, lay down and shut my eyes for a moment when I feel the need.” He sat back into his chair, pulling himself towards the desk, tucking his legs underneath as he quickly began to type away at his computer.

“That surely can’t be doing you any good.” I stood from the bed and crossed over to him, scanning my eyes across the vials strewn about. “I can’t imagine going without sleep has been helping at all with your research.”

A particular pair of vials caught my attention, one filled with a clear liquid, so transparent it seemed to defy physics and looked as though the vial sat empty. The next looked to be a thicker liquid, the light reflected into it and amplified its translucent amber color and leaving a colored cast of light onto the surface below it. 

"I'm getting work done, am I not?" He stayed focused on his screen as he clicked to different pages, split screens among two monitors displaying multiple articles. I couldn’t help but read from over his shoulder, a particular page documenting a chemical long outlawed among the countries. I bent down slightly, trying to get a closer look at the information plastering the screen.

“VX?” Seungmin slightly jumped and turned to my voice now carrying much closer to his ear before turning back to the screen, bringing up the chemical make up on the screen and pulling his chair to his microscope and peering into it.

“Potent nerve agent.” He mumbled as he flipped to the next slide, a moment of silence before he quickly popped up, fully alert. “Don’t touch anything.” Raising my singular free hand with wide eyes, responding with haste.

“Wasn’t planning on it” I watched as he hunched himself back down, squeezing an eye shut and peering through the eyepiece once more.

“Listen, not to be all ‘you need to get out of here so I can focus’, but uh, you need to get out of here so I can focus.”

“Okay, okay. I get it.” Stepping back from the desk, I made my way towards the door, pausing before I reached for the handle. “Let me know if I can bring you anything, okay? Coffee, food, anything.” He mumbled a slight I’m good thank you and I took it as my final sign to get out of there.

Pulling the door shut behind me, I hesitated in the hall, leaning my back against the wall and my head fell back and let my eyes relax. 

We were very quickly nearing the 48 hour mark since our surprise gunfight, and tension was still running high in the house. Most of us were quiet, minimal words spoken between us. There was nothing I was craving more than the laughter, the bickering, the casual comfort that the group provided when we all had the luxury of relaxing together.

Adding to the painful tension, it was as if the switch had been flipped again, and Minho was avoiding my gaze at any given moment. Every sliver of progress that had been made between the two of us had felt like it had crumbled beneath us, slipping into oblivion as if it had never occurred. It felt as though he was everywhere in the house, all at once. Wherever I went, it seemed like he was always passing me, eyes pointed forward as he slipped by like I was a ghost.

By the third time I couldn't help but stop and watch as he left, slipping into Chan's office in silence, my feet gluing me in place. It stung a little, feeling so polar opposite to the concerned and caring Minho that I had just experienced. It was a bite of the tongue every time he passed, convincing myself he was just stressed, sent on a mission from Chan each time he made his way through the halls.

By the fourth I had enough, stopping in place before he reached me, watching as he passed by me once more in silence. Pivoting on my heels I swung around, lending a bit too much volume to my voice as I called out.

“Yah!” He stopped, hesitating mid step before turning in my direction, head tilted and brow arched. “I still exist, you know.” My frustration bled through my words, melting into a puddle beneath my feet and radiating back up and engulfing me. His silent stare broke as his eyes drifted down to the sling, brows softening as his face dropped.

“I know.” His voice barely sat loud enough for me to comprehend, eyes avoiding meeting mine again as he gazed down the hall towards Chan’s office.

“The least you could do is say hello, or even a smile, nod of the head, anything. Just stop acting like I’m not even here.” He hung his head before bringing a hand up to aggressively massage his eyes, dropping the hand at his side and slowly turning back to me with a forced smile and nod of the head.

“Hello.” Without further word he continued back down the hall, slipping back into Chan’s office, letting the heavy door shut behind him. I scoffed with a roll of the eyes, he’s lucky that I’m stuck with this fabric restraint or my hands would have gladly found their place around his throat while giving him a good shake.

My fingers tightly twisted in the air in front of me as grumbled incoherent irritations made it past my lips. Attempting to take a breath to compose myself, I let out one more mumbled fucking ass before heading back down the hall towards the stairs.

Flicking on the light to the kitchen, I looked around the counters, only just now realizing the disarray the kitchen had fallen into. I pulled different pieces of trash from around the room, dropping them into the bin and tidying up the surfaces before targeting the pile of dishes accumulating in the sink.

I attempted to apply extra pressure to the bowl, pressing it into the surface of the sink while scrubbing to try and keep it in place with a single hand. Not every dish seemed to like this treatment, the occasional one slipping from my grasp letting it slide around, hitting multiple dishes in its wake and leaving a crashing noise echoing down the hall. The frustration bubbling inside me from my Minho encounter, paired with the irritation of my restraint manifested in a string of mumbled curses and threats towards the inanimate objects in front of me.

“Hey, hey! What are you doing?” Hyunjin seemed to have appeared out of thin air, snatching the sponge out of my hand and gently pushing me out of the way. “You’re supposed to be resting, why are you cleaning?”I threw my head back with a sigh, my closed eyes opening to focus on the ceiling before lowering my head back down to Hyunjin.

“I’m fine, I may only have one hand but I can still perform simple tasks. You guys don’t have to baby me.” I tried to reach for the sponge and grab it back out of his hand, which he responded to by holding it up in the air and out of my reach.

“I’m perfectly aware that you can, that’s not the issue.” He stared me down sternly with his other hand settled on his hip, “We would treat any of the members the same if they were injured, and I’m here to remind you that you’re one of us now, so you’re getting the same treatment.”

With a groan I leaned against the counter behind me, accepting I wasn’t going to be getting anywhere in this debate. Hyunjin set the sponge down on the sink before turning back to me.

“Listen, the other members are gonna be down here pretty soon, Chan said it’s time for the meeting. Just go sit down, and don’t you dare let me catch you with a sponge in hand again.” I huffed as I pulled the fridge open, grabbing a bottle of water and making my way to the couch, plopping into the cushions and pulling a blanket over my legs.

I pressed the bottle to my stomach with my restrained hand, attempting to hold it firm while my free hand twisted off the top. I have barely had this thing attached to me and I was already sick of it, and I was real close to making the call to leave it off myself, I could deal with an angry Seungmin later. I just needed free use of both of my arms again. 

Raising the bottle to my lips, I let the cold liquid pour down my throat and chill my chest, the physical cold finally calming down the mental fire within me. 

Sure enough, just as Hyunjin predicted, each member started to slowly slip into the room, taking place on the couches and settling themselves in. Hyunjin took a seat on the couch that was beside mine, crossing one leg over the other and staring me down with folded arms.

“What? You think I’m gonna get up in the middle of this and start cleaning or something?” I snapped at him, a slight smile and chuckle coming from him as he shook his head, tilting his head back to look at Felix as he entered with us.

“She gets fussy when frustrated.” Felix placed his laptop on the coffee table before sitting on the floor in front of me, starting to open it and set up what he needed to present. I nudged him in the back with my foot, causing him to let out a soft giggle as he turned around to look at me. “What? I’m just speaking facts.”

“Maybe just don’t speak then.” I mocked, giving a blatantly fake smile before he reached back and patted my leg.

“It’s okay, I know healing isn’t fun.” I glared at his condescending tone, opening my mouth to retort but getting cut off by Chan and Minho being the last to enter, joining the rest of us.

An eerie silence laid over the room, the sunset outside leaving a warm glow pouring in through the windows. Minho had taken it upon himself to sit at the far end of the couch, planted next to Jisung and putting as much distance as possible between us.

Chan fiddled with a small projector on the coffee table as the other members surrounded him, I watched as Felix  flipped between multiple documents on his screen, the words flying by too fast for me to comprehend.

I pulled my feet up onto the cushion underneath me, my knees pulled up to my chest, sandwiching my arm against myself as it laid snug in its sling. Seungmin sat beside me, flipping through a notebook searching for keywords frantically scribbled upon the pages. My eyes glanced at his book with each turn of the page, the notes flip flopping between clean and organized, to words scrambled with no rhyme or reason.

The projector finally roared to life, the motor letting out a warm buzz of air as it shined onto the whiteboard in front of us. Each member’s attention is brought to the blank screen as it clicked to mirror Felix’s laptop as he plugged in the cord linking the two, scrolling through the copied system from the warehouse. An elaborately organized system of files littered the screen, my eyes squinting as I attempted to process the quickly flowing information as Felix tried to find a certain page to start the meeting on.

Chan rose to take seat on the armrest of the couch to my side, fingers interlocking in his lap as he waited for Felix to find his target. As the screen finally stopped in place, Chan’s tilted head slowly turned to the rest of us, eyes scanning between each one of us in silence before letting out a slow deep breath as a sigh. He gazed down at the floor, searching for the best way to communicate with the group as we sat in awkward silence.

“So things are looking worse than we expected.” He avoided our gazes as he turned his attention back to the screen, each of our eyes following his line of sight as Felix opened one of the folders. My brows creased as I studied the words on the screen, unsure of what exactly I was looking at. “But before we continue on, from discussions I’ve had with each of you, it seems like we had a visit from SuperM.” Chan slowly turned to the group around him, his eyes falling on mine before slowly following down to the sling across my body, then quickly down to the hands in his lap with a clear of the throat as he swallowed the lump lodged in his airway. “It wasn’t very expected for them to be involved in all of this, but it seems as though they might be the surveillance team for the warehouse.” He turned to look back at Seungmin. “Wanna let us know what you found?”

“Oh, right.” Seungmin’s back tightened as he sat straight, flipping back to the first page of notes in his book. “So, they’re clearly running multiple tests down there, these chemicals are far stronger than anything I could have expected. I’m still trying to run tests on them myself, but they’ve been experimenting with different combinations, compounds, and how they interact with each other. I was able to take with me a lot of their log books which is going to set them back in their research quite a bit.” The series of nods in acknowledgement from the group followed with tight lips, none of us truly knowing how to respond to the information being fed to us. Seungmin relaxed into the back of the couch, his journal dropping into his lap as his fingers ran through his unkempt hair. "I have a hunch I may have discovered what they are, and if I’m right, we might have a big problem on our hands.”

“Okay, so what might it be then?” Changbin was slouched back into the cushion on the couch, relaxed with his arms folded across his chest.

“There’s the potential that this is VX that we’re dealing with, a nerve agent that was banned by the United Nations as a weapon of mass destruction in the 90’s. From reports, all countries had actually disposed of their stockpiles of this stuff, but every now and then it has popped up in different attacks.” Seungmin ran his fingers through his hair again with a sigh before continuing. “It attacks your entire nervous and muscular systems, stopping communication between the two and completely paralyzing you until even your lungs stop working and you eventually asphyxiate. It’s highly dangerous, just simply getting this stuff on your skin can cause the effects, but it also has the potential to be dispersed as an aerosol.” The room fell quiet once Seungmin finished, Felix finally breaking the thick air by speaking up.

“Now in terms of my findings…” His words sounded anxious as he spoke, his finger tapping on the table in front of him before continuing. He looked up to the projection as he opened a document housing a log book of different contacts, names of varying origins and a wide array of locations. “Things are a lot more extensive than them simply importing these chemicals.” He slowly turned to the group behind him, his eyes trying to hide the nerves pounding through his system. “They’re also setting up plans for export to other countries. I’ve tried looking into the names in this document, they’re key players all across the world.” Mouths hung slack as everyone’s eyes crossed back and forth between Felix, Chan, the screen, and each other in tense silence.

Felix turned back to his computer, clicking through multiple files until he reached a deeply hidden log book of communications. Notes on their progress with testing, short paragraphs following one after another, dated and time stamped after each one. Each update concluded with the same sentence;

The Tiger has been contacted.

I tuned out the voices around me as my brows creased in confusion, my eyes scanning the room slowly with no visual input as my brain buzzed with thoughts. A knot quickly formed in my chest, the boiling of stomach bile leaving a poor taste in my mouth the moment the lightbulb flipped on in my mind. My sight turned frantic as I sat in doubt;

No, it couldn’t be…

He couldn’t…

My unrestrained hand gripped at the fabric covering my knee as I tried to calm my breathing, the words coming from the mouths around me sounding like a distant muffle as the members deliberated amongst themselves about who the mysterious Tiger may be.

But I knew.

With frantic eyes I looked towards Chan, who had clearly taken notice of my silent panic and had his focus pinned on me, also tuning out the other members as we shared sharp silent eye contact. My head was spinning as I struggled to swallow the rock that was lodged in my throat, a wave of nausea quickly overtaking me as I tried to fight it off. The room fell silent as I pulled myself from my seat, avoiding the eyes around me as I quietly excused myself to the bathroom and tried to escape the walls closing in around me.

It felt as though my feet couldn’t take me towards the door fast enough, the desire to lock myself within the confines of the bathroom taking over, needing to put a wall between myself and the new information that my brain was processing at a rapid rate. I shut the door behind me with a click of the lock, the light illuminating the small room around me as my single arm supported my weight against the edge of the counter.

He had been by our side my entire upbringing, knowing every function of the family. He had assisted us with so much, could he truly be capable of turning on our father? Would he stoop so low as to take him from us?

I leaned back into the wall as my head fell back, staring up to the ceiling as I blinked back the moisture now building up along my lash line.

He was an honorary member, an unofficial brother of my father, welcomed into our home on so many occasions. He knew the layout better than the housekeepers, he knew exactly how he could make his way towards my father’s office without any suspicions pointed in his direction, his presence within our halls of safety was no surprise, and honestly it became an assumption.

The softest of knocks emitted from the door, knocking my from my haze, my body and mouth too frozen to formulate a response, my feet firmly planted and mouth sewn shut.

“Y/n…” Chan’s voice was gentle, quiet and almost a whisper as he spoke through the wood. “If you’re alright, I’m going to need you to open the door.” My head rolled in the direction of the door, my tongue struggling to function as it quickly dried, I knew I needed to tell him, it wasn’t a secret I could keep hidden.

Pulling my body from the wall, my hand hesitated over the knob as I gave one final attempt to compose myself, slowly pulling it open and revealing a concerned Chan standing in the doorway. His eyes studied my face, my pale skin reflecting light as the blood that drained from my face had stolen with it all color.

“Is there something you should let me know?” My fingers fidgeted within the fist they were tightened into, lips pursed as I avoided speaking the words that sat on the tip of my tongue.

“The Tiger.” Chan’s brow raised as he eyed me, waiting to speak until I had continued. My face scrunched with tight lips as I quickly pointed my head to the floor, rising again to meet Chan’s eyes with one last deep breath. “Tiger JK.” Chan’s head tilted in question, brow raised. I held his gaze as I forced the panic to the back of my mind before gaining the strength one final time, speaking flatly.

“My Godfather.”

Next Chapter

[tigertofu]

:3c ok I am sending Trevor/reader fic request OPTIONS….

PROSTATE BUSINESS

begging!

COOKING (I needed to send one that wasn’t just filth lmao)

UR FUCKING MIND !!! ur getting all 3 combined bestie but u already knew that

pairing: fem Reader/Trevor

summary: Trevor has agreed to sit down to a romantic, homecooked dinner with you. Only in exchange for something, though.

cw's: smut. PROSTATE BUSINESS

wordcount: 2,646

ao3 link

Humming to yourself, you flipped the steak sizzling in the pan in front of you over onto its uncooked side. A nice, golden–brown crust had formed on the other side. Perfect; just the way you liked it. You aimlessly pushed the meat around with your spatula, waiting for the other side to be done.

Suddenly, two arms wrapped around you from behind. You startled; nearly dropped your spatula. 

“Trevor! What the fuck? You–You could’ve made me drop this,” you said. 

Trevor chuckled, warm and raspy, right into your ear as he nestled his head down onto your shoulder and tightened his arms around you.

“C’mon, let go. I can’t cook with you touching on me like that, Mr. Grabby Hands,” you laughed, trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

“Ah, c’mon, sugar. You fucking love my grabby hands,” he said, his hands finding their way up your shirt. You laughed and swatted his arms away before he could reach the band of your bra. 

“Nope. Not ‘till after dinner. Remember? That was our deal,” you said coyly.

“You’re no fucking fun,” he softly growled before backing away from you. 

“I’ll be plenty of fun. Later.”

Trevor groaned but said nothing more. 

Continuing with your content humming, you grabbed the metal spoon resting beside his stove—a spoon that’d taken you half an hour to find and that was probably the only clean spoon in the entire trailer—and used it to scoop up some of the melted garlic butter in the pan and drench your steak with it. The movement made the meat sizzle with more energy. A savory, buttery puff of steam wafted up from the pan. You gratefully inhaled it. With dinner being prepped and a couple of rose–scented candles burning in the center of Trevor’s dining table, the trailer smelled more pleasant than ever. 

And, with no lights on aside from the weak bulb in the range hood over the stove and the flickering candles, a decidedly romantic aura had settled on the cluttered space. Kind of. 

Satisfied with the crust that’d formed on your steak, you fished it out from the pan with a fork and set it on your plate. You turned around to set it on the table and noticed that Trevor was very decidedly not enjoying the romanticness of your little dinner together. He sat drastically slouched in his chair at the table, one leg outstretched and the other bent, his knee jittering up and down as he scowled and picked at something underneath his right thumbnail. You sighed and set your steak down at your place at the table. 

“How do you want your steak?” you asked.

That got his attention. He immediately leaped up from his chair as if electrocuted and went for the stove. 

“I’ll make mine, thank you very much,” he said. You watched as he grabbed the raw t–bone from the opened styrofoam packet on the counter with his bare hands and plopped it down into the pan. He sucked the raw beef blood from his fingertips as he added: “Get over here and watch. I’ll teach you how to not burn a good piece of meat.”

“Mine’s not burnt. It’s perfectly done,” you said flatly, but crossed over to his side.

“First, you gotta get a good sear goin’,” he said, turning up the stove’s flame with one flick. The melted butter and fat in the pan began to pop and crackle. Trevor jabbed the fork that you’d used to transfer your steak to its plate into his t–bone, pressing it down into the pan so hard that it sizzled even louder. A few specks of hot oil sputtered up onto his hand. He hissed, jerked his hand back and flailed it around for a second, nearly slapping you in the face, before returning it to the pan. 

“And then flip the fucker over. Nice ‘n quick. Like… So—” He tried to pry the steak from the pan, but it stuck. He growled a few curses. Lifted the pan away from the flame and began to make stabbing motions with the fork before finally getting it unstuck. Harrumphing triumphantly, he flipped it over and dropped it back onto the stove’s coil with a clang. “There we go.”

“You barely cooked the other side,” you said incredulously. “It’s gonna be totally raw in the middle.” 

“As it should be!” He tilted the pan now from side to side, sloshing butter over the mangled cut of meat. Some of the oil slipped out of the pan and onto the flame, making it jump up. You flinched back with a surprised yelp and took shelter behind Trevor. “No point in eating meat if you can’t taste all the juices.”

“Ew,” you breathed.

“If you’re gonna act all disgusted over my eating habits—” he said, transferring his still–bloody and now–torn–up steak to the empty plate beside the stove, “—Maybe you shoulda chose to force me to do something other than have a homecooked meal with you as my part of our deal, sweetheart.”

Maybe you should have, you thought as you took your seat at the table. But when Trevor had asked you last week if you’d be down for “something new” —

(“Depends. Is it a weird sex thing?” 

“Depends on your definition of ‘weird sex thing,’ sugar.”

 “I dunno…”

 “C’mon, c’mon! Please? I’ll–I’ll fucking do anything for you in exchange!”

 “Anything?”

 “Anything, sugar. A–ny–thing.”)

— forcing him to have a nice, homecooked meal together was the first, and only, thing that had come to your mind.

Meals with Trevor were never a pleasant affair. Typically, you’d just awkwardly sit there and wait for him to finish wolfing down his delivery pizza or days–old Chinese takeout. He’d only take breaks from shoveling in mouthfuls to get some air or ask if you wanted some. You always declined, because witnessing him eat always put the same mild sickliness in your stomach that watching a lion rip apart the carcass of a gazelle in a nature documentary did. You’d thought about asking him out on a dinner date before, but inserting Trevor into the public—especially a confined, public space like a restaurant—was a recipe for disaster and/or mortal embarrassment.

So dinner at home it was. 

As you cut into the first bite of your steak, you glanced up at him. He was staring at you, both hands propped up on the table, his knife and fork clutched in his fists as he chewed the bite of meat he’d already torn off. You gave him a meek smile. He smiled back at you, wolfish and teasing.

You’d already tried to pry out of him what possibly weird sex thing it was he wanted in exchange for a peaceful dinner together. But he’d swatted down your questioning each time with a simple answer: “It was a surprise.” Now, as the two of you tucked into dinner, you wondered what, exactly, you’d gotten yourself into. 

~~~

When, a half hour later, Trevor excavated a strap–on with a leather harness and sleek, black silicone dildo out from the clutter under his bed and presented it to you with a smug grin, you momentarily thought he was joking. But then his grin had turned into a scowl in record–time the moment you started giggling, and you realized he was serious. Deadly serious. 

“You want me to… Put that on?” you asked slowly, nodding your head towards the toy dangling from his fist. He huffed.

“No—Yes. I want you to put it on and fuck me with it,” he said quickly.

“I—” You pursed your lips. “I mean, I’ve never… Done something like that before.”

“I’ll make it easy for you!” Trevor implored, taking a seat beside you on the edge of his bed. He threw an arm around your shoulders and shook the strap–on in front of you. “Real easy. Alright? I don’t expect you to fucking pound me into the mattress the first time we play with this. All you gotta do is put it on, lay back, relax… Lemme do my thing. Yeah?”

And that was enough for you.

For just a few hazy minutes, he made out with you. All tongue and grabby hands that restlessly peeled off all your clothing and his; the type of makeout session you were used to with him. You knew he was only doing this for your sake, and that much you could appreciate. He was already rock hard the moment his jeans and briefs were off. 

Fingers fumbling in their jittery excitement, he helped get the strap–on onto you, cinching it nice and tight around your hips and thighs. The moment it was secure, he was pushing you to lay flat on your back in the center of his bed as he attacked your mouth with his again. While his tongue curled around yours amidst breathless groans, you heard his right hand reach out, blindly feel around for his bedside table, yank its drawer open, and pull something out from it. 

Leaning back, he clicked open the bottle of lube. Slathered his fingers up with the clear liquid, then reached behind and under himself to get himself slicked up. A healthy glob was applied to the head of the dildo next. You watched with curiosity and growing excitement. 

“Ready, sugar?” he asked, clicking the bottle shut once he was done and tossing it to the floor. You coughed out an awkward laugh.

“Are you?”

“More than you even know.”

And with that, he bowed his head, grit his teeth, and sucked in a deep breath as he eased himself down onto the strap until his body was flush with yours. 

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned as he settled in. 

The act felt, and looked, so enticingly foreign. You were used to Trevor taking the lead; used to the kind of sex that had him pinning you down with his iron grip, pistoning in and out of you with reckless abandon, using your body to pleasure himself in that way so animalistic and raw that it left you breathless as you choked out his name. 

On rare occasion, he asked you to take charge. Made you, really. But this was far and away from any of the times you’d edged him or given him instructions in bed. Seeing him now turn into a panting mess, his brow knit upwards with both pleasure and slight pain, impaled over your lap with his red and desperate cock untouched and twitching, felt so antithetical to how you’d always viewed Trevor. Trevor took charge. Trevor stomped around in his workboots and barked out commands. Trevor always told you why things were the way they were. Trevor did what he wanted when he wanted, no matter how dangerous or insane his wants were, whether you liked it or not: “Tough luck, sweet stuff.” Trevor fucked; he did not get fucked.

But now he was whining as he lifted himself up and down the silicone cock strapped to your lap. 

And suddenly, the idea of taking control of him felt not just novel, but downright irresistible.

“Go slow,” you said. 

“But—”

“Nice and slow, okay? I want it to last.”

Annoyance flashed over his face. But then he relented, coming down once again until the strap was fully embedded in him again. A shiver ran through his whole frame. Smirking, he straightened up. Both his hands reached down, his palms pressing against your lower abdomen to steady himself. 

“‘M not sure how long I can last like this, sugar,” he grunted, scooching his hips just a bit. The leather bound around your hips and thighs pulled at your bare skin. “Been… So fucking long since I got to have somethin’ up there that I didn’t put up there myself. And, God, you look so fucking good.”

As if to backup his words, his cock twitched again, livelier this time. The flushed, red head of it lightly plapped against his bare stomach, leaving behind a glint of precum on the dark hair just below his navel when it flexed back down. He groaned. 

“Try to last a little bit,” you said in your most encouraging tone. You reached up and grabbed at his sinewy thighs, rubbing soothing circles into his rough skin with your thumbs. 

This only made him whine your name more pathetically and gyrate his hips once more. 

“Lemme just fucking ride—”

“No,” you said firmly. 

And then, for as much as you did want him to last, another tantalizing idea came to mind. One of your hands left his thigh and wrapped around his cock. His whole body tensed up at the contact. You began to pump, nice and slow and careful, relishing how heavy and hard and warm he felt against your palm. 

Having both his cock and prostate simultaneously massaged quickly became too much for Trevor to handle. He began to beg in a high, blubbering voice so pitiful you almost wanted to give in and tell him to go ahead and ride you as hard as he wanted and finish himself off. Only almost, though. The sight of him struggling, restraining himself—something you’d never seen him do, in the bedroom or out of it—was just too interesting and arousing. The slight muscle definition in his abdomen rippled as he ground his hips down in slow, staggered circles. His thighs quaked with effort. The speed of your closed fist around his cock slowed, until you were just barely tugging at him, each pull at his head coaxing out a dribble of precum.

“Please. Please, please, please,” he breathlessly whimpered.

“You really wanna cum so badly? Already?” you asked, rubbing your thumb across his head. His cock pulsed out a thicker trickle of precum that trailed down your closed fingers. 

“Yes, God, yes, yes, yes—”

“Beg more.”

Trevor groaned and threw his head up. His eyes snapped up and down between your demure gaze and your bare breasts, as if he were unsure which he wanted to look at more. 

“Please,” he grunted through ragged pants, his mouth hung half-open. He canted his hips down and up again, causing his whole body to buckle forward a bit as the dildo ground against his prostate at the new angle. “Fuck, I’m so close, so fucking close. Please, please, please, lemme cum, please.”

Pleased, you began to massage his cock a bit faster. An exasperated whine leaked out of him. With both hands planted outside your waist now, he bowed his head again and groaned. A droplet of sweat trailed down his red temple and plopped onto your bare stomach. 

“Fuck!” he snarled. “You’re gonna—You’re gonna make me cum. D–Don’t stop, don’t stop, I swear to fucking Christ—”

Finally, you bucked your own hips up. Just a bit. But it was more than enough.

Trevor came completely undone. Moaning in a broken, quivering sound you’d never heard come out of him before, he jerkily rocked up and down on the strap once, twice, thrice—and then you felt his cock repeatedly pulse in your hard grasp. Warm, thick spurts of cum spluttered out onto your stomach. Only one or two strong pulses, not with the force he usually came. He finished with a strained growl, several more languid bursts that only milked out onto and slathered your hand weakly coming from his cock. 

The effort left him breathless. He collapsed onto you, his chest heaving against yours, the aftermath of your session warm and wet between your bare torsos. Though your lungs could hardly expand underneath his body weight, you let him lay atop you as he caught his breath.

“Happy?” you asked, trying to urge him up with a gentle pat on the back after a moment.

“Very.”

[abellinthecupboard]

I Don't Know Her

This woman here, sloppy-shouldered, squint-eyed, I don't know her. Nor this room she's in. Those wooden walls and floors. All stained-up. All whopper-jawed and needing nails and paint. I don't know her.

The size of her nose or her mouth pulled up. The sleeping kid she holds. I couldn't name you her

if you asked me. Nor him, nor the rest of them all lined out and held so still. Unnatural. I've seen fish on a string down a country boy's back look more natural than they look, posed close together, not scratching, not with the window opened and the old one there, looking out.

And his handkerchief's not knotted tight on his neck like he usually wears it.

And her, with the safety pin, the young one, getting long-boned and moony, scratching her toes against the wood, I don't know her, neither. Nor do I care to. That suspicious old lady, head cocked, sideways looking out at me, new shoelaces in her shoes, I wouldn't look out my window to look at her, nor listen to her talking at the vegetables in her backyard garden.

None of them is worth the time and they've all been dead longer years than I been born and living. And the road out front don't lead no where near their house, it sitting in the hollow down lower than that stand of trees out back of the chicken coop. And that little picture tacked on the back wall there

where the old man can see it but the kids have to stand on the wash tub turned over, don't mean a thing to me.

And the shirt over the door, you can see its collar here, I've never seen it on anyone or anyplace other than right there, it's always been just like that, partly visible, at the top of the picture.

But mostly her, it's mostly her I don't know. I maybe seen pictures of rooms like this, and kids sleeping or awake—all tilt-faced and dreamy-eyed like that one, or wanting to run by the side of the house with the dog, throwing sticks and giggling, like that little one there held in between his father's knees— I maybe seen

kids like that, running in the street or in the alley.

Even that old lady, I've seen her too, or someone like her, peeking around a curtain, the room behind her dark and never opened. And him,

he's everywhere; I see him any time of the day. But her, I've never seen her. That big hand rolled into a fist, those feet bent double under her, that little edge of slip showing underneath her checker dress; no,

I've never seen her before nor do I care to see her now. Her hair all knotted and black, those bug bites showing on her chest where her dress is opened. The dirt on her and how she's all slopped down on the edge of the bed looking like she hasn't any sense at all behind her face. I don't know her nor do I care to.

She leaves that baby whining on the floor while she goes off in the field looking for men. She leaves it between chairs so it can't crawl too far. Everyday she leaves it. She goes farther and farther, sometimes

disappears in the weeds, sometimes stands in the shade of the trees looking out at the men and rubbing her hand on her arm or scratching at the ticks on her legs. She squints

under her hand and sometimes follows the road, wagons coming along, sometimes cars. She lies herself down under a tree

and everything stalls right there. She's slower and slower getting back. One day you'll take this

picture out to show me, to have me story it for you, and there'll be an empty place at the corner of the bed. And the baby

will be all knotted up and asleep on the sheet with no momma anywhere near it. She'll be gone, she'll have disappeared down the road so far there'll be no time to call her back so you can show me this

picture with her in it. She'll be in the shade of a tree or in the shade of some man's arms. And none of them will see it, they'll all be right there, lined up, looking straight ahead and never sideways to see if she's made it back in time. She'll be gone,

and nobody will notice. The bed will be ditched in from having her weight on it in that spot for so long, and the baby will be asleep. Nobody will notice.

You'll show me this picture and I'll say, "Look at how

funny that bed looks, like someone's been sitting on it." And there won't be any way for me to tell you about her; she'll be gone.

And I could meet her on the street and she could hello me until her throat got dusty, I wouldn't know her. You got to know someone before you can hear them. Before you can answer back. And I don't know her.

—Faye Kicknosway, Who Shall Know Them? (1985)

[theharrowing]

Can we get a snippet of Collateral ch 17? 🙏

MAPLE HELLO! 🍁

ugh i tried to shorten this somehow but it's all too good to leave any part out so enjoy this 553 word snippet lmaoooo. this is first draft and very unedited, ok!!!!

anyway, uhhh, this is the only Collateral snippet i am offering since it's so long.

the only cw is JK being very JK.

The click-clack of boots against the wooden floor does not strike you as odd, at first, having grown accustomed to Jimin and his affinity for boots, so you continue practicing the move you recently learned. Anchored back on your elbows, sitting on the floor on your left hip, with both legs bent, you stretch your right leg straight before fanning it out and lifting your left leg, creating a v-shape in the air. Then you curl your legs in, trying to perfect the fluid motion that Jimin is so good at, twisting until you are on your right hip. Only when clapping echoes through the room do you realize that the boots had stopped moving, and that the tell-tale frenetic energy Jimin always brings to the studio is missing. You turn with a gasp and find Jeongguk standing in the center of the room, wearing all black. His button-up is undone to the center of his chest, with no shirt underneath, and it is tucked into black slacks that are so fitted, the material strains against his thighs when he shifts from one foot to the other.  "My, my," Jeongguk teases, approaching before squatting beside you. "What have we here?" Instinctively, you lean away, feeling warmth flood your cheeks. You sit wearing a tight purple sports bra and very tight, very short black athletic shorts, making you self conscious to be met with such a hungry stare, especially knowing that he had been watching you.  "Jeongguk," you mutter, having to clear your throat to get more sound out. "What are you doing here?" "I was coming to see if Jimin was here. Wanted to run a few things by him." You nod, knowing you must look like a fish out of water with how your mouth hangs open. Jeongguk's cologne is stronger than usual tonight—musky and floral with hints of spice—and you find it incredibly intoxicating.  "But what I found is far more enticing," Jeongguk continues with a smirk. Silence falls between you, and you feel your hands prickle with sweat. All you can think about is that kiss in Hong Kong and the chemistry you found in his lips—how delicately he asserted control but never pushed or pulled too much, causing you to unravel in moments. You want to feel that again—want to feel him again—so much that it seems like a bad idea for you to be left alone with him, like this.  Jeongguk stands and you let out a heavy breath, then swallow a lump, feeling relief wash over you at the thought of him leaving. But then he walks over to the corner, to where some black chairs are shoved together, and he grabs one. Anxiety washes over you when he begins to bring the chair back, placing it beside you and having a seat. He spreads his legs and leans forward, resting his wrists against his knees, tattooed hands so close you could reach out to him.  With his lips tugged into a smirk, he says, "Let me see that move again." You must look as stunned as you feel, blinking up at him, because he chuckles and raises his eyebrows, clearly amused by your lack of response.  "Come on, buttercup," Jeongguk teases, leaning even closer, and dropping his voice far too low for comfort. "Don't be shy."

ask about my wips! 💌

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Hello! It’s Winter! This story is rated R (18+)

“Sit down! You’re late!” She exclaimed with an undertone of annoyance in her voice.

“I’m sorry, I… I lost track of time,” he nervously admitted.

With a drawn-out sigh, Brigitte removed her reading glasses, “this is becoming a regular occurrence, Emmanuel. You failed your last exam and now you’ve been late for my class every day this week.”

He bit his lip. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to make up for it? My parents will kill me if I fail.”

She winced at his “parents” line.

Giving him a chance to see her entire outfit for the first time, Brigitte walked to the front of the desk. Hopping up, she crossed and uncrossed her legs in a most seductive manner. Thigh-high leather boots, short skirt, white blouse with nothing underneath.

“There’s one thing you can do to bring your grade up,” Brigitte confessed, licking her lips.

“Anything! I’ll do anything!” Emmanuel cried out, his impressive acting skills hard at work.

She pondered her choices for a few seconds, finally deciding on a position she loved. “Bend me over the desk and fuck me.”

“You can’t be serious? What if someone hears us?” Emmanuel was horrified, aware of how thin the walls were. Brigitte didn’t always unleash her daring side, but when she did - look out.

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.” Brigitte stated, her hands resting on her hips. “I, for one, would love to be caught. Sneaking around turns me on so much.”

He leaned in for a kiss but she pushed him away. “I didn’t ask for a kiss, did I? Follow my instructions!”

Emmanuel realized that Brigitte meant business. He wasn’t accustomed to treating her this way. Usually, they cuddled or warmed each other up first.

Carefully, he bent her over the desk and positioned himself behind her ass.

His hand lightly graced her legs, only stopping when he felt her panties.

“Is this how slow it’s going to be? Stop treating me like I’m fragile! You want to pass my class, don’t you?” Brigitte huffed.

Fine.

If she wanted it fast and rough, that was what she was going to get. He quickly undressed the bottom half of his body, letting his pants and boxers pool around his ankles. Making sure she was ready, he ran his tip through her wetness, using it as lubricant before he entered her.

Emmanuel thrust inside her, moving slowly at first, until he felt she was ready for more.

“Don’t stop!” She begged, her voice full of need. Her face made contact with the cold surface of the desk as she began to lose her balance.

He continued to thrust fast and hard, not stopping when she cried out his name. He held her hips to gain more control as she bucked under him.

Wrapping his fingers around her blonde hair, Emmanuel roughly pulled her up. She could feel his breath on her neck. “You like this, don’t you? Do you have any idea how hot you sound when you’re moaning my name?”

She grunted, unable to form a coherent sentence. “Keep … going.”

Brigitte came hard with a scream, immediately feeling Emmanuel finish inside her. He reluctantly pulled out, suddenly missing the close contact they had just shared.

“Come here,” Emmanuel spoke softly, opening his arms for a hug. “Did I hurt her?”

Always the perfect gentleman, she lovingly stroked his cheek. “No, you could never hurt me.”

“So …. Did I pass?” He laughed, not wanting to break character.

She giggled, suddenly remembering their game of foreplay that led them to this situation, “I forgot we were role playing! Yes! Yes! You passed!”

Once they returned to reality, Emmanuel looked at her disapprovingly. “You can’t walk out of my office like this! I don’t need every man on our staff drooling over my wife.”

“I came prepared, don’t worry.” She grabbed the long coat off the back of his chair and threw it on. “You didn’t think I’d walk through the halls half-naked, did you?”

“No, of course not. If you did, I would have had no choice but to fire my entire team.” He remarked, matter of factly. “It would be just you, me and Nemo living here.”

“Alright, Mr. President, I had a great time. You can unlock your office door.” She laughed, finally kissing him. “I’ll see you tonight. Let me know if you need to pass another class.”

Hellooo Winter! ❤️

OMG I just screamed!! Wait, no, not screaming in that way 😂 FINALLY the office sex!! And with game of foreplay student/teacher !! No but just let me love you, this was perfect 😂 I’m laughing but oh hell, it’s hot hot hot in here! 🔥 🔥 🔥

Byeeee, I’m going back to read it 🤭😂

Thank you so much, Winter! ❤️❤️❤️

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

I read this 6.5 million times, but it's hard to focus when there are a bunch of screaming, hopped up on sugar kids around me 🤮. Sorry if it's sloppy.

A/N ::: This initially started out as an ask for @bakubunny but then I just kept writing and writing and was like fuck it. I'll just finish this because it's my first time writing for him and I'm excited about it. I hope I did ok! I'm only on the 3rd season of MHA so I'm still very much learning about the characters. ♡

C/W ::: Soft teasing of Eijiro, F!reader, pet names :: Puppy, puppy gets free and just ... ravishes you? Dom Eijiro. Lmk if I missed too many things.

Teasing Eijiro to the point he's actually drooling like a dog. Your lips on his neck, the anticipation of your lips on HIS. Running your hands, fingertips, and nails up and down his chest. You played with his nipples until they were red and hard. Pinching 'em. Licking them. He drools more. And he can't wipe the drool away from his lips and chin because you have a silk ribbon the same color as his hair spanning the underside of the chair tying his hands down to his sides. So he can't move. He just has to sit there and take your touch. He tries to ask you to untie him so he can reach out and touch you, but you're not quite there. He's so hard and you sit down with your back to his chest and you exaggeratedly settle in his lap while he moans and drools some more. Nuzzling the back of your neck and shoulders just for any contact with you.

"Ya - ya gotta untie me. Please, I don't ... I want you to untie me, now. I ... am ... asking nicely." He pleads with you.

"Soon, puppy, soon. Just a little bit long---"

But puppy doesn't want to play like this anymore. He's so hard and so drooly and his chest and your back are covered with his saliva and your nail marks that he just rips the silk and kicks the chair back - maybe breaking it? - and he doesn't even bother to wait for your ok. Eijiro just picks you up roughly and hauls your ass down the hallway to his bedroom. He drops you on the bed as gently as he can manage but then he starts ripping your clothes off. Buttons go flying from your shirt. Say buh bye to your favorite black leggings. He snaps the wires in both cups of your bra, tearing that from your torso, and you may as well not have bothered putting panties on today the way he tore them from you was like there was nothing but parchment paper covering your swollen, wet pussy.

He stands over you after he's stripped every thread from your trembling body, chest heaving. Eyes wild, using the back of his hand to wipe a little bit of saliva from his chin. Eijiro shakes his head and smiles. Looking at you like you've made one of the sweetest mistakes of your life.

You feel his hot hands wrap around your ankles as he drags you ridiculously fast toward him. Your knees are bent over the side of the bed and he buries his face in your cunt. Not easing you into him eating you out. He's sucking on your clit, grazing his teeth over your thighs, leaving his mark all over you.

He. Is. Everywhere. On. You.

His patience was worn so thin and he had to put up with your denying him for so long that he felt like he had to cover more space in a shorter amount of time.

So he basically went wild ass feral dog on your body.

And he's still hungry. So hungry. He crawls up your body, his cock resting on your clit as he licks your nipple, biting down on it just enough to make you squeal - in pain and pleasure - and try to wiggle underneath him. But he's so fucking strong that all you can do is just lie there while he puts you where he wants you. His hand is cupping your breast, kneading it, his thumb and forefinger pinching your nipple hard and rolling it between them while he grinds his cock on your clit.

You're moaning and sighing and you don't even know when he got his cock inside you. You felt the slap of his thighs into you and you felt the immense pleasure of his dick sliding into you so easily from being so wet for so long. From being teased for so long. But everything was so overwhelming and you felt so many things at once that it just snuck right on by your soaking entrance.

Eijiro doesn't care. He's finally got you where he's wanted you for so long. He's not going to let you go now. He's not going to let you move from this bed until you're both satisfied.

Chain Divider ::: @/cafekitsune Thank you for the dividers!

Tagging ::: @callm3senpaii @bakubunny @millennialmagicalgirl @darkstarlight82

[sevenratz]

NEWTMAS AU

first chapter of idk how many

same warnings as the og post apply! this chapter posted here is completely sfw :3

the ao3 link will also be added at the end of the post

Stumbling while walking in the dimly lit hallway, he scanned the numbers on the doors he was passing.

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

He couldn't believe it.

"Ough..." he groaned, annoyed at himself for always ending up in these situations. Finally finding the right door, number twenty, a sudden feeling of uncertainty crept up his spine, a spark of shyness coming from deep inside him.

Shaking the insecurities away, his closed hand met the wooden door, knocking a couple of times.

Nothing.

Trying again he knocked harder, scared of waking up people sleeping in the other rooms; it was still around one in the morning and he was in a hotel.

Getting no results, he figured his friend was already sleeping, and defeated, Newt leaned back against the door, sliding down its surface.

Why did I have to lose my dumb room key now? I always do this stuff and then drink like an idiot and have to beg Thomas for help. Serves me right that for once he's not answering.

"Oh... ouch!"

As his tired body was nearing the ground, the blond's elbow hit the door handle, making him yelp in pain, and the door open behind him.

Newt found himself almost laying on the ground, his back on the carpet covering the room entrance, and his legs still bent on the hallway tiles, as if still going through the sitting motion.

Turning around quickly, Newt noticed the room was dark, but the bed empty.

Pulling himself to his feet with the help of the door, his head spinning a bit from the alcohol he had earlier and the surprise of the fall, Newt walked in uncertainly, not wanting to invade private space he wasn't invited into.

"Thomas?" He called, unsure of his friends whereabouts.

Weird, he was supposed to be here already? I doubt he'd leave the room door unlocked while going out to the bar. Plus, he's supposed to be back already, he left before me.

Feeling silly, he finally noticed the light coming from underneath the bathroom door, and the light sound of water running, some tune softly accompanying it. Who the hell showers at one in the morning? Ugh.

Not wanting to startle his friend by bothering him while showering, Newt turned on a desk lamp, unable to stand the main light of the room, and closed the door behind him.

A feeling of awkwardness started radiating from his chest, spreading to his neck, the strong emotion making him roll his eyes as he tried to ignore it.

We're friends, I'm drunk, and I lost my room key, he'll understand. I'll just explain once he's done.

The tiredness taking over him, the boy decided to take his shoes off and sit on the edge of the bed, still a bit stiff. Listening to the water run helped him relax, and Newt started to let his eyes explore the room, noticing more details about it.

The desk was some kind of dark wood, left empty except for the lamp he had turned on and what he assumed was Thomas's wallet. A cushioned chair sat under it, with a hoodie thrown over it.

From where he was sitting, Newt was facing the main room door, and next to him, at the end of the bed, an open closet revealed Thomas's luggage, his clothes thrown around it messily, probably by the boy himself looking for something to change into after the evening out.

Newt found himself blushing while staring at Thomas's clothes, lingering on them just a moment too long, and moved his gaze from them.

Stop being a snoop, that's private, he scolded himself.

Concentrated as he was, the boy failed to notice that the water sound had stopped, the music that was playing along it more noticeable, and the light under the door shifting, as his friend had exited the shower.

The sound of the bathroom door opening was accompanied by Thomas's voice:

"Shit! Oh my god Newt what are you doing here? You scared me!"

The blond almost jumped to his feet, lost in his thoughts, having almost forgotten where he was.

"Oh, I, Tommy, sorry I-, uhm lost my room key and-"

His slurred words were interrupted when Newt's gaze turned to Thomas. The brunette was barely covered by a towel, and trying to turn the music off on his phone, the task taking a couple of tries due to his still wet fingers.

Suddenly blushing and realizing the situation he was in, Newt tried covering his face, wanting to give his friend privacy, but the image of him almost naked just out of the shower was still burned in his mind.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

Chuckling, Thomas interrupted the blond, having recovered from his own surprise.

"It's okay Newt, I just didn't expect it. What are you doing here?"

"Uhm, I lost my room keys at the bar I think, I came to see if you could help me? I knocked but then you didn't answer and I fell and the door it opened and wasn't locked I didn't mean to bother"

The boy struggled to get the words out in a coherent way, the last sentence coming out in a single breath, almost panicked.

"How much did you drink Newt, you sound like you've just learned how to talk"

Thomas scoffed at his friend, amused, looking at him shily cover his eyes like a child would.

"Newt you can take look, you've seen me in my swim trunks, this isn't much different, I would just appreciate if you could move over a bit"

The blonde lowered his hands and looked at his friend again, feeling silly.

Thomas was now covering himself better, the thought that he was coming out of the bathroom naked with him there making Newt feel a rush of emotions that made him embarassed.

Looking at his friend confused, the blond was about to ask why, but his sober friend was faster. "You're sitting on my clothes Newt", Thomas said smiling.

"Oh shit, yeah sorry" Newt muttered, shifting from the clothes he hadn't even noticed he was sitting on. A simple t-shirt and underwear, along with a pair of short baggy pants, probably for sleeping.

Uuugh, I wanna disappear right now, he thought, glad that at least his friend was enjoying himself, finding Newt's embarassment funny and lightly chuckling at him.

"I'll be back in a second, shank", Thomas said, before turning around and slipping into the bathroom once again, along with the clothes he grabbed.

haiii maze runner fandom I wrote a lil thing :3

first and fast newtmas chapter of my fanfic, I'd love to hear what u think of it!!! It's only on wattpad for now but I can put it elsewhere if it's better to use then wattpad.

planning on continuing it as soon as possible!

lil nsfw tw for the future but right now it's fully sfw and I'll put a warning at the start of the chapter containing it anyways, so it can be skipped

[he-calls-me-kitten]

Dirty Laundry

Leviathan x FDom!MC

"Sit down, Levi. We need to have a talk. And lock the door behind you."

Was it possible for a demon to be that afraid of a human? Levi nodded and did as told. Now he was looking around for his bean bag to sit on.

"Sit on the floor."

He didn't even question it. He obediently sat down, looking up at you, sitting on his gaming chair. What was this weird tension he felt? He had seen you this angry before - but it was never targeted at him directly.

"What is this...doing here?"

You held up a purple box full of fabric. It would look like ordinary clothes to anyone else. But on closer inspection - it was underwear. Your underwear specifically.

"So this is what you do when it's your turn to do everyone's laundry? You are the reason I keep losing my panties?!"

Leviathan looked away, his mouth gaping like a fish. He had just been caught. It was wrong to get excited by it. But his body refused to listen. He grabbed the nearest plushie to hide his growing bulge.

"I'm sorry...sorry, MC..."

"Not even attempting to deny it? Glad we're being honest here today."

Now, your face had a sadistic look about it. Levi's face was reddening simply looking at you. And every time you glanced down at the plushie, he felt like you could see exactly how big he was underneath.

"Then tell me Levi...what do you do with them exactly? Hmm?"

Levi choked on his own spit. How was he supposed to answer this without combusting.

"I- I don't! I don't do anything with them...I just collect them...yes collect them! That's what I had seen characters do in..in hentai so I- I'm so sorry..."

You squinted your eyes and brushed your toe against his cheek. He felt himself melting, he was losing all sense of sanity.

"Lies. Blatant lies. And here I thought I could settle this without telling Lucifer."

"No! No please, MC! Anything but that!"

He begged, his head touching the floor, his arms on his sides. Then something soft fell in front of him. He looked up and saw it was one of your panties. Crumpled up and smelling of you.

"Then show me what you usually do with it. And get that plushie off you, I already know what's under there."

You kicked the pillow off him. His pants were stretched to the fullest. He was aching to be set free. With a head dizzy with pleasure he freed his member. It was up and already leaking.

Panting heavily he put your panty in his hand and started stroking himself. His hand was slow, unsure and yet shaking with excitement.

"Wait. Use this too. It's fresh."

"M-MC?!"

His jaw slackened as he watched you reach down and slide your current panties down your legs. Then you bent down, stretching it and putting it over his head, the wet spot right at the tip of his nose. He inhaled deeply. He was throbbing down there now.

Now his hands moved on their own. One had vigorously stroking his dick with your fabric and the other one pressing your damp smell further into his senses. His body glistened with his sweat.

He panted for breath calling out your name over and over. He arched back, almost passing out from the pleasure. That was before you death the final attack.

"Levi. Look here."

Everything else except you was a blur. He gasped and fell back as he watched it unfold. You slipped two fingers inside you and brought them out, glistening with your fluids.

"You caused this. So go on. Clean it off me."

He burst into his demon form, his long forked tongue darting in and out excitedly as he scrambled to wrap his mouth around your fingers. And his hands only moved faster and faster.

"Mhhmmm...nnmmm...MC...MC...you..."

Your smell, your taste, your voice and your touch all at once. He fully believed he was about to die of pleasure and embarrassment. And he welcomed it. He let out a final cry of release, throwing his head back.

"MC...more..."

He fell sideways on the floor, still overwhelmed by you. He looked at you his eyes deranged and hungry. You smirked. He was so much cuter when he was shameless like this. You walked over to his bathtub. Letting yourself lay in it, you slipped off your top and threw it at him.

"Come and get it yourself, birthday boy."

[avenging-fandoms]

oh my god. that's all i wanna do with rafe. shotgunning. pls especially if like you're enemies and someone dared y'all to do that together. pls.

the annual bonfire was something you loved doing in outer banks. it didn't matter if you liked the people going or not, you had fun with your friends and that was all that mattered to you.

you wore jeans and one of pope's button up vacation shirts with a bathing suit top underneath the one button. you held onto pope's arm and waved hello to some of your other friends as you all walked in.

"yln! you want a beer?" jj yelled and you yelled at him not to get too drunk and end up in fights. you look at pope and he smiles, telling you he was going to go get a drink and keep an eye on jj.

"be safe" he salutes and you stuff your hands in your back pockets, sitting in an empty chair around the fire. you rested your elbow on the arm of the plastic, biting your nail as you stared into the flames.

suddenly the leg of the chair was kicked out from under you and someone caught the chair before it fell to the ground. you panicked and huffed, widened eyes as you look up at rafe, who smirked down at you.

"you're in my chair, princess" you roll your eyes and jump off the chair, pushing it to the ground and stepping close to rafe.

"well now it can't be yours because you broke the chair, princess" you cross your arms over your chest and rafe smirks, and his height towering over you really did intimidate you, but you couldn't let him know that.

rafe bent down, face in front of yours and you narrowed your eyes. "it was funny watching you panic under me, honestly. you're lucky i was feeling nice and caught you. next time you're in my chair, i'm not going to catch you"

"back away, kook" you push his chest and he stumbles back, smirking at you. you walked past him, finding pope and he hugged you. "i hate that asshole"

"i think we all do, yn. don't worry, i got you" pope smiled at you and you calmed down a bit.

"thanks pope" you kissed his cheek and a whole group of people sat down around the fire, you and rafe sitting across from one another through the flame.

everyone started to play truth or dare, some people making out, stripping, jumping in the water. it was your turn, and it was kelce's turn to ask a question. "truth or dare, yn?" kelce smirked behind his beer bottle.

"dare" you drank the last of your beer and looked at kelce, who had a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

"i dare you to take that joint and shotgun with rafe cameron" he smirked and both you and rafe looked at him. "while sitting on his lap"

"no, no way" you refused and everyone booed.

"fine, then we throw you in the water in nothing but your bra and underwear" kelce took a swig of his beer and you huff, standing up. you walk over in front of rafe, who looked like he didn't want any part of this either.

you slowly straddled his waist, and he instinctively held your waist. you held the joint in between his lips and he inhaled deeply, keeping eye contact with you as he blew the smoke into your mouth. you inhaled and smile, leaning back and grinning at everyone who applauded.

you sat up and inhaled yourself, blowing the smoke into rafe's face. "if you wanted to kiss me so bad, cameron, you could've asked" you wink and let the blunt hang from your lips, moving your hips a bit before getting off his lap.

"oohh, rafe's got a boner for the pogue!" someone yelled and you look back, giggling at him and sitting next to pope again who hugged you into him. you looked at rafe through the fire, winking as you threw the roach of the blunt into the fire.

the night continued with truth or dare, dancing, drinking and smoking. you felt eyes on you the whole time, and you were right. you caught rafe staring at you from time to time, and really, you honestly wanted him to stare.