#reblog if ya fancy

[iannmin]

HEAD OVER HEELS | p.sh 박성화

pairings + warnings: heels!obssessed!hwa x fem!reader, creampie, breeding kink (literally breeding everywhere >_<), just pure smut so mdni! 18+, unprotected sex, exhibitionism (?)

synopsis: “get hot on ya heels”

a/n: just got some inspiration looking at some of the reblogs from my previous works on hwa and one of them said that hwa may have a kink of loving to their s/o in heels, so credits to whoever who said that i love you

you owned a lot of heels, but “a lot” would definitely be an understatement. the heels came in tens, even dozens - from the classic YSL’s to the fancy Dolce & Gabbana’s, but regardless the type, it all boiled down to a single reason: park seonghwa.

hwa would always buy you heels everytime he goes out for shopping with his bandmates. his poor and innocent friends thought that it was “nothing more than an act of love” but oh,, you knew for sure that it wasn’t. it was simple, really, he loved how you looked in them when you two were having a lil baby making session <3. so when he hastily kicked off his shoes and fumbled his way over to the bedroom at one in the morning where you were just about to tuck yourself to bed,, you weren’t surprise at all.

“jagiya, look hehe” he shook the huge shopping bag, smug look smeared all over his face. “let’s do it now” don’t get mistaken,, hwa had his priorities set straight so he didn’t care one bit when he carelessly tore the luxurious Louis Vuitton wrapping in half like a spoilt child. you barely uttered a reply but he was already holding both of your ankles, slipping on the wine red heels on your feet. it took a few moments for hwa to soak in the sight - you in his plain white tee with your lace panties coupled with the pair of high heels….god,, and when it finally came to him, hwa could only mumble “f-fuck…s’pretty….gonna ruin you princess” before instantly reaching for the buckles on his belt.

jeans and belt pooling around his knees with his veiny cock slapping against his abdomen, he set you up in a mating press, hooking both of your legs over his shoulder. gently kissing each side of your ankles, he aligned his girthy tip against your hole.

“hah…fuck…wanna breed you so bad…you’ll be such a pretty mommy f’me” *schlop!* in an instant, his hips slammed tightly against yours and his girthy base came into contact with your folds. that’s it. seven-inch all in at once. this was the feeling you’d never seemed to get used to no matter how many times the both of you did it, so it got you instantly gripping on hwa’s shoulder blades. “nnnggh….hwa…feels s’full…s’good...” tears were threatening to spill from your eyes, so he reached in for a sloppy kiss, a string of saliva connecting from both of your coated lips.

but,, of course you were wrong to think that it was the end because hwa was pussy-drunk. extremely drunk with the thought of you. all he desired was to pound that tight pussy loose and watch it seep with his cum. so he did exactly that. with sweaty bangs sticking to his forehead, he buried his head into your neck, deep groans casting vibrations against your skin. with every hard thrust, your nails dug deeper into his shoulders, whimpers turning a pitch higher. "h-hwa...gonna cum..."

"hold on for me princess, i wanna try something.." hwa instantly flipped you on your stomach - ass up, face down in a doggy-style position, and when he entered your sensitive hole again to continue his pounding ordeal, you swear you felt his cock reach in about an inch deeper. oh boy,, you were going to lose your mind very soon.

it took the both of you no more than half a minute to reach your highs and when it did, it felt straight out of a porn scene. with hwa's groans turned into nothing but an endless chant of curses and high-pitched whimpers, and your moans turned into broken sobs, he pressed his hip as deep as it could have gone against yours, releasing loads and loads of hot white cum, filling you up full. and when hwa finally pulled out, his cum was everywhere - seeping out of your hole, dripping down your thighs and heels, coating your wine-red heels in a layer of translucent fluid. he hate to admit it but the sight of you nearly got him hard again.

"fuck...princess, i love you so much, could do this everyday"

[pampushky]

Mon Petit Doudou

Pornstar! Charles Leclerc/Pornstar! Reader - 7.4k

here it is!! enjoy! please reblog and share and all that lovely stuff! getting your comments makes my day and seeing how excited everyone was for this made me super happy :)

uhhh anyway. Might be a bit inaccurate, I'm not all that well versed in BDSM stuff so if anything is like... a super negative connotation within the community that's inaccurate (besides one character who has bad etiquette for plot reasons sorry)

anyway lmk what ya think lmao

masterlist |

He was too beautiful to be doing something like this for a living. With those bewitching hazel eyes. The effortlessly styled hair. His athletic build. The sweet slur of his accent as he lowered his voice to a sultry level when he talked to you.

But weren’t you as well? Wasn’t that why you fought so hard for your anonymity? That was why you had only ever allowed your mouth or lower to be seen in any stream or video, combined with the concealer that hid away any tattoos or marks from the prying eyes of those who watched you pleasure yourself on camera. Why you never wore your glasses to any professional shoot. It became a necessity to dress so differently on and off screen.

So why did it feel so weird now? Two of you, the same profession between you as you discuss plans for your… collaboration. Charles smiles at you. Stubbly beard and white teeth, a bit of the foam from his coffee clinging to his mustache. Perfectly styled hair as though he’d just stepped out of a convertible. You know you look similar. The soft cardigan slipping off your shoulders. Exposing the delicate tattoos of rue on your upper arms that circled your biceps and danced up to your shoulders.

Herb-of-grace. Purity. Innocence. How ironic for you, considering what your profession had turned into. From a part-time job to a serious career that often ended up having better benefits and more money. 

Charles leans forward, whispering something in French you don’t quite catch, making you frown as he cackles, leaning back. Other tables at the cafe look at the two of you, and you can see the adoration in their eyes. You look like the perfect couple. In a way, you are, just not a romantic one. A spoiled rotten sub and the protective, sweet dom.

“I think you should let them see the tattoos, no? I think they would like it,” Charles says, shit eating grin on his lips. “What does the rue flower represent again?” Because he damn well knows what it means, he just likes to tease you.

“You’re impossible,” you take a steady sip from your cup, looking down at the journal that you’d brought to jot any ideas or notes down in. “You are aware of that, right?”

“But the people like it.” Charles leans back with a shrug. “So. To continue…”

If only the other tables were close enough to hear any of your discussion. To hear the things he was suggesting. But you couldn’t even protest against most of his ideas— they were appealing. Sponsorship deals that both of you had been offered. Not only would your audience like it, but… well, you would enjoy it as well. You can’t help but the little smile that makes its way onto your lips when he nudges you under the table with his foot. 

“Don’t play footsie with me,” you kick him back gently, making sure to just brush his shin. “Who said it was my foot?”

“Har har.” You roll your eyes, but Charles kicks you again, and you can’t help but laugh with your head tilted back. “And was that your foot, this time?” “Wouldn’t you like to see, hm?” 

The rest of the video series is figured out pretty easily. The safewords, plot, who’s going to edit the videos (Max will. He’s one of Charles’s buddies who you’ve seen edit together the most filthy things from previous collaborations and blending everything together with a straight face while sucking on a fancy bendy straw leading to a tall can of Red Bull). You’re comfortable with it all, even asking if Max would be willing to let you use the straw for your water bottle during filming breaks when shooting more traditional videos. 

“Probably not. He’s very protective of it,” Charles says sagely, watching as you just doodle loops and loops of ink into your journal. “Do you still use the same brand of concealer? Just so I can have it on hand. The other bottle you gave me expired.”

“Ah, no, ended up having a bad reaction with it the last time I used it,” you scratch your neck and shrug the cardigan back on. Covering up the twin rue tattoos. “I’ll text you the new brand. I can bring it, too, because it’s a bit pricy…” 

“Don’t worry about it, I can get it.”

“Yeah?” 

“Of course,” Charles looks down at his phone when you text him the link, frowning more so about how you had thought you’d even need to think about buying it. A bottle of your matching shade is ordered by the end of his sentence. “You know that.”

“Tattoo seals are also a good thing to use,” You turn to reach into your bag, missing the way that he traces over the leafy, flowering tattoos on your shoulders. You push a few of the little stickers across to him, and he raises an eyebrow. “Don’t have to worry about replacing or cleaning the sheets, then.” 

“Hm. My smart girl,” His praise falls easily from his lips, and he doesn’t miss the way your gaze seems to soften for just a second after it. “I’ll let you know,” Charles snaps a picture of a few and pushes them back towards you. “Stream in a few days then? Don’t forget the collar, mon chou,”

You just laugh, leaning back in your seat while finishing your tea. Like you haven’t been discussing an upcoming scene that will take place in your next shoot with your dom over coffee. How you’ll split the costs and whatever monetization comes from the videos, while also letting him spoil you with the tea and pastries you love. It’s almost like a date. Perhaps in another life, it would be such an innocent thing, and not the planning of a semi-niche porn live stream.

Charles trails kisses down your neck, letting his stubble brush against you, chuckling as your skin flushes, leaving a wake of goosebumps and heated skin under his lips. The camera is on, but you don’t exactly see it, most of your face is pushed out of frame with how you’re lying across his lap.

“Are you going to be good, mon chou?” 

One of his hands rubs softly on your back, while you’re laid across his lap. You’re face down, and you know you’re positioned in a way so that the viewers will be able to see all of your body. You squirm gently, and nod, trying to tilt your head back so that you’ll be a bit closer to his face. You lay so that you’re facing away from the camera. Your tattoos have been carefully covered with a mix of concealer and tattoo patches. It’s warm, and you feel safe, your mind fuzzy as you slip into subspace. Your hair falls in small waves around the duvet, like a halo. 

Sitting comfortably against your neck is your newest collar. A lovely burgundy leather with brass d-rings and pressed eyes that have been carefully polished to shine. A few pendants hang off the D-ring, little gifts from Charles to you. The inside of the collar itself is lined with soft velvet, made to stop the skin from chaffing. Admittedly, Charles had splurged on it for you, wanting you to have only the best as he worshiped you.

“Uh uh uh,” His hand moves to cup the small of your back to stop your squirming. “Doudou, they want to see you. Don’t move so much,” He looks over at the screen, where a few messages are beginning to pop in. A few donations pop onto the stream’s overlay, displayed for all to see, along with the chat on the side, displayed by one of his other monitors.

ugh she’s so cute (€5) Is that a new collar? Looks so cute on her!! (€10) awww!! she’s getting so excited!! happy to see you both <3 (€20) Such a good girl, listening so well already (€5) Make her answer the question. Give a sub an inch and they’ll take a mile. (€50)

Charles frowns at one of the more recent messages in the chat. Very rarely did he ever need to punish you for being a brat or acting out of turn. Whenever he did do this, it was always scripted for the viewers. Played up, and a rare event that usually came after a request was put in for it, along with a substantial amount of money. But fifty euros is nothing close to what would substantiate any punishment, so he brushes over it and smiles at the chat as more tips and excited messages drop in.

“Oh, mon chou, they’re so happy to see you again,” Charles whispers, watching as the viewer count starts to grow as people tap on the notification that you’ve both gone live. More comments in the chat pour in. “Yes, she’s been so good lately, haven’t you, ma moitié?”

He runs a hand up and down your back, and then gently squeezes the swell of your ass. You squirm a little bit again and make a needy noise rather than answering.

Make her answer. She seems like a bit of a spoilt sub, needs a reminder of who’s in control. (€50)

The message donation floats on the stream overlay for a few seconds, before being replaced by more donations. The chat is a mix of more praise and excitement along with a handful of confused ‘???’ about the last donation message. It’s the same username as the other donation that had confused him a bit. His mouth quirks down into a frown before he quickly masks it with a little smirk as he looks down at you.  

“Doudou, have you been good?” Charles whispers softly in your ear, leaning down to ask you. His stubble brushes over your skin, and he gently rubs your lower back, encouraging you to speak. “They want to hear your sweet voice, bébé.”

“Uh–huh,” you mumble out, starting to squirm again. “Been good, sir.”

“Yes or no, bébé,” Charles gently reminds you, his touch still reverent around your skin as you lay across his lap, stomach facing down. “I know you have, but our lovely friends watching you don’t.”

“Y-yes, been so good,” your voice is soft, and his heart melts. Charles is already a very soft dom towards you. Never pushing. Never raised his voice. He doesn’t like using any crops or toys that can verge on pain. That’s just what the relationship between the two of you had become. 

she’s so cute!! Aaksfhasl so so good for us!! I just wanna see her cute little face (T^T) She’s so eager to please!! 

The chat is a blur at this point. Mostly compliments for your good behavior and how eager you appear to be to start the steam. Lovingly, Charles rubs your back again. Kisses the top of your head, and then gently starts to finger you open, prepping you for what you’d both discussed for today’s streams.

“There’s a bunch of toys we’ve gotten today,” Charles leans back to grab the little basket of toys, reading out their names and the slightly dry sponsor segments he knows he has to read. He lifts each one to show the camera, and you press your legs together with a whine as he reads out the descriptions the sponsors had given him for each toy.

He tilts his head back to laugh a little bit at your desperation and softly kisses the small of your back. 

“You should have seen her the other day,” Charles looks at the camera, while you let out little squeaks. You’re still on his lap and trying your best to keep still as he gently pumps in and out of you with his ring and middle fingers. “She was so good. Even when she had a plug in.” 

Hot hot hot omg

You squirm slightly at his words. Whining softly. Staying as still as possible just like he’d told you, lost in the sweetness of subspace. The tip of his middle finger brushes against a very special, spongy spot inside of you that has you keening into the duvet on Charles’s bed. 

“Oh? Did I find something?” Charles feigns disinterest while curling his fingers to press just a bit harder into your G-spot. He reaches with his other hand to grab the camera, wanting the chat to have a good view of your folds clenching around his fingers tightly. When he pulls his fingers out, they glisten with your wetness, and your sweet hole tightens around nothing. “Look at you, so responsive for me,”

He brings himself to a slower pace, no longer thrusting his fingers in and out of you with the same rigor as he had minutes before. You wiggle your rear at him again, craning your neck to look over your shoulder at him with a little sigh, your pleading look invisible to the camera. Just as his lips quirked into a small smile over your sass, another donation popped up just as he pressed the camera back onto its little stand. 

What an indignant little thing. Put her in her place, hopefully this helps you grow a pair. (€100)

Charles holds back every childish instance to flash his balls to the camera just to specifically show this donor that he does indeed have a pair, and a rather substantial set at that. You whine again, and without really thinking, he brings his palm down onto your left cheek, the one closest to the camera. It’s not too hard, and it sounded worse than it actually was. You let out a little yelp, and still, your hands fist in the duvet covers even tighter, looking over your shoulder at him with wide, shocked eyes. 

“You know better than to whine, you’ll get what you want,” Charles' gaze softens, and he already feels a bit of regret for spanking you without warning. The collar around your neck shifts a bit, some of the pendants hanging off the D-ring jingle together from how you’d jerked your head back to look at him. The little bell on the collar chimes sweetly, and soothingly, Charles continues to rub your left cheek, leaning down to softly kiss you out of frame. You whine, and he swallows all your noises, before leaning back in, looking at the camera while lovingly soothing the skin where he’d smacked down. 

To some satisfaction, he can’t see any new donations from that particular donor. He’ll make sure you feel nothing but loved, with the two hundred euros the person had dropped on it. Charles just smiles again, letting his hand still on your lower back, continuing with the stream as planned. 

An hour in and he’s had you nearly cumming on one of the rabbit toys sent to you. It’s smooth, and the actual toy part is a lovely mint green color. A very nice one, with several different speeds used to keep you squirming and whining softly under his touch. Small sighs of “—Sir— please—” and “Ch—Charles—” fall from your lips ever so often, and he even manages to coax a loud moan from your lips, which the chat goes insane about. When you do climax, you don’t even have the where-with-all to try and warn Charles. And he doesn’t even mind, he’s always been happy to just let you chase your own pleasure and highs. 

You whine, slumping against him, feeling him pull the still-vibrating toy from your folds. Your clit is puffy and engorged, and the chat loves to see how you whimper as Charles brushes his fingers through your folds, holding the camera close to give everyone a good view of your still-twitching cunt. 

so pretty now give her another!! Her whines omg Good Girl <3 (€25)  Such a cute little sub Wish i had a dom to take care of me like she does waaaa

Despite himself, Charles smirks, knowing his face is out of view while he gives everyone a good view of your slick heat. The donor who’d been provoking him hadn’t said anything in a while. He grins at every little noise you make, especially with how you whimper at his touches, still sensitive. But you don’t move away— you know you’re safe, and that he’d never do anything to harm you. You have safewords for that exact reason, and you’d never had to use them outside of practice scenarios Charles would make you do just in case. 

He settles the camera back onto its stand, tilting it down so that the stream can also see a bit of himself. He’s shirtless, wearing a pair of gray sweatpants that hang low around his hips. The waistband of his boxers is visible, showing off the V-line of his lower body, and the happy trail of dark brown fuzz that crawls up his torso. 

“Did you like that one, mon chou?” Charles croons, moving so that he blocks the view of the camera, purposefully hiding your pretty face so that you have a bit of time to reposition yourself. “Hmm?”

“Mhm,” your voice is dreamy, and your head lolls uselessly to the side as he strokes your cheek. “S’good…” 

There’s no need for you to call him ‘sir’ at this moment. He doesn’t even really enforce the title, it’s just something that slips out occasionally while he takes care of you. It’s adorable, in all honesty, the way that you talk when he’s truly gotten you into the hazy, carefree state that is your subspace, never so much as raising his voice when talking to you. That’s his brand. That’s your brand. Just a needy sub and soft dom pairing that verged on Charles having an obsession with you cumming and feeling safe while he’s there. 

The rest of the stream goes about as planned. Charles tries a variety of new toys on you, ranging from a dual-purpose clitoral suction toy that doubles as a dildo to vibrating anal beads that you are not much a fan of, but let him try them on you for the sake of experimentation. It all comes to the grand finale of Charles then having you bounce on his lap as you ride his thick cock, your walls clenching around him as you whine and wail out pleas for him. 

“That’s it, mon chou, you’re being so good for me, always so wonderful,” Charles squeezes your waist, guiding you up and down on his lap as you whine out a sound that might be his name. The camera has a wonderful view of your back, zoomed in to specifically see the way he slides in and out of you. Your cream covers his cock. 

You lean against him, your forehead on his shoulder as you gasp and pant. He can feel the way you’re loosely gripping onto his shoulders, not strong enough to scratch his skin, but certainly hard enough to remind him that you were here, if the warm wetness of your cunt somehow didn’t. 

“Where do you want me? Where, mon chaton?” Charles whispers against your head, and he is rewarded by you looking at him with a hazy glance, just for him.

“I-inside,” you whimper, trying to lean against him further, trying to get him to press his face against yours, stopped only by the fact that he needs to keep your face out of frame.

So he gently moves so that both of your faces are out of frame, his stubbled cheek against yours. Thrusts growing more rapid until you clench around him, trying to milk his cock for anything he may give you. He finishes a minute after, twitching inside of you, and breathing hard as he comes down from his high. In the back of his mind, Charles imagines his cum settling in your womb. Making a baby. Seeing you grow round as the months passed, needing help with simple things. Perhaps it would have if it weren’t for your implant and his vasectomy. Just precautions of the trade. 

Gently, he pulls himself from you, still panting. He brings the camera closer, giving the viewers a good look at how his seed trickles from your folds, mixing with your release. 

hot!! Eeeek!! breeding kink breeding kink She’d look so fucking cute all round with a baby Give her a baby!! (€20)

Charles pauses the camera feed for a few minutes, gently wiping at your core with a warm cloth and praising you endlessly as you mewl helplessly. The chat feeds into his little fantasy. He thinks about you as his housewife. Coming home from a normal office job rather than a studio shoot with other people. Kissing the rue flower tattoos on your shoulders lovingly, while his hands come to hold the little bump of your pregnant belly. 

But with a shake of his head, it’s gone. Because that isn’t your relationship with him. So he turns the camera back on with you settled in his lap, wearing a pair of his boxers and one of his hoodies. You’re curled up happily, face nuzzled into his shoulder, hiding everything away from the camera’s view. He can feel you placing almost sleepy kisses on his neck, along with the contented sighs you’re making. 

As is the normal routine, Charles thanks everyone for their donations, while also allowing viewers to make requests in the chat. Answering questions about the little break from any streaming and videos the two of you would normally do. This is usually when more of the donations sweep in, much bigger ones. The notifications are delayed, and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head when he sees one rather large donation come through. 

I’d like to commission something of the two of you. I’ll be reaching out to your business email after the stream, just to ensure that this tip doesn’t bounce. (€800)

It’s the same username as the donor who had dropped €200 earlier in the stream. Part of Charles feels incredibly uneasy over whatever this commission could entail, simply based on the comments they had made in their previous donations. 

But if they had been able to give over €1000 in a single stream…. Which was nearly a third, if not more, of the total donations…

You shift slightly in Charles’ lap, bringing him back to the present. You’re still lost, he can see that by the distant, glazed-over look in your eyes. What you need right now is a good bath, a bottle of water, and something to snack on while he massages the knots from your back. You can talk about the possibility of something like a commissioned video later.

“That’s…. Hm, we’ll have to see about that, won’t we, bébé?” Charles grins, pressing a chaste kiss against your forehead, before bidding farewell to the stream, and turning off the camera. The donations still pour in for another thirty minutes, and that’s when Charles gets the light ping that everything’s done downloading, right as he’s gotten you to finish a bottle of water. He sends it to Max immediately, who’s already gotten the rough outline of how the video should look. Charles will go over to his apartment tomorrow to work on the specifics of what everything should look like, and then send the link to you for final approval to post. Knowing Max, the Dutchman is likely just starting to wake up as the world is going to sleep. He’ll probably have a mockup done just as the sun starts to rise. 

For now, Charles turns his focus to you, watching as you slowly munch on goldfish crackers, as if deep in thought. It’s funny, really, you’re so lost in your thoughts and somewhat spaced out still. But when you look at him, he can see the little grin on your face as he walks over to you. Letting you curl into his embrace.

“You’re all sweaty.”

“Mm. I was fucking you rather hard near the end.”

That makes you giggle, and you look up at him with a mischievous little grin. “You also spanked me.”

“I did.” Charles swallows a bit of his guilt down. “Are you sore?”

“No. It was… just unexpected.” You fiddle with the strings of his sweatpants, and he plays with the hair at the back of your head. It’s domestic and sweet. It could be a scene from the everyday life of any young couple. Charles feels like he’s in the wrong for wishing it was. “It startled me a bit. Nothing bad.”

“Sorry.” 

You just shrug, and let him help you out of the hoodie. With the utmost care, he peels off the tattoo seals. Wipes away the concealer. And helps you into the shower, washing away any of the stubborn bits of makeup that insisted on staying behind. The rue flowers bloom under his touch, and without really thinking, Charles kisses them, his lips trailing around your shoulders and upper arms as if he’s worshiping some idol. 

It’s the most intimate thing someone’s ever done for you. And Charles realizes he may have just crossed a serious line, looking back at you like a deer in the headlights as you stare at him over your shoulder, with a mildly sleepy gaze. His hands start to shake.

“Why’d you stop?” 

The way you tilt your head is sinful. That someone so innocent and willing to give and submit your body to him also looks at him in such a way. Asking such obvious questions when you already know the answer. Entering a relationship because of your shared profession with him could be catastrophic. You both work in such a niche of your industry when it comes to the kinks and roleplays you’re willing to work through that both of you would be screwed if feelings got in the way of your work. 

“Because we shouldn’t take it any further,” 

“What if I want you to?”

Charles nearly chokes on his surprise. The water is still warm around him. Your hair still has the conditioner in it, just soaking on your scalp as you wait for him to help you wash it out. 

“That’s a bad idea. We shouldn’t.”

“But you were just kissing my tattoos.” Your brow furrows. “That’s hardly the porn we normally shoot.”

“It’s—  it’s not about the porn—”

“Then ask me out.” You say it so plainly. As if it’s that easy… and maybe it is. “I like you.”

“What?”

“I like you. You seem to like me.”

“I do like you!” Charles blurts out. And then blushes violently, his pale skin turning a vibrant pink-red as he starts to rinse the conditioner out of your hair, making you turn away from him so he doesn’t get any of it in your eyes. He still feels guilty for spanking you without much warning. “But don’t you think this could be weird—”

“I think it could be nice.” You sigh, leaning into his touch. Entrusting him to put you back together after breaking you apart. “Don’t you?”

He can’t bring himself to speak after that. Drives you home. You watch him from the window of your apartment as the rear lights of his car fade away. 

The moment Charles is out of sight, he goes to Max’s flat. Pounding on the door hard until the disgruntled Dutchman opens up. He can hear Daniel moving around somewhere in the apartment, talking to one of the cats as Charles stands dumbly at the threshold of the happy couple’s home.

“What?”

“I think I’m in love with her,” Charles blurts out, and Max just scowls further.

“Mate, I could have told you that!” Daniel calls from deeper in the house, as Max pulls the panicked man inside, making him sit down in the cozy living room. Max’s computer set up is pushed into the corner, with a cat tower beside the desk. Sassy currently sleeps happily on the highest little bed, while Jimmy weaves through Daniel’s legs as the Australian offers a slice of pizza to Charles. “What finally made you realize?”

“She— she told me to ask her out. Wait— does that count as her asking me out—?” 

Charles’ voice grows more frantic, and his hands go to his hair as he starts to pace in the living room. Both cats watch him go back and forth, while Max settles at his desk, opening the file to start editing. 

“Who cares? Do it. You’ve been making moony eyes at her for the past year of working with her.” Max grumbles, clearly unamused by the drama of it all. 

“We make porn together!”

“So? That’s how I met Max.” Daniel tilts his head, at which point Jimmy does the same. The Monegasque frowns at him. “Didn’t stop us.”

“You’re both gay.”

“Ouch.” Max’s stoic tone is somehow cutting, even when he’s focused on the screen, pulling up the video Charles had sent to him, and then the outline on the other monitor. “I don’t see how that changes anything. The only difference is that I was Daniel’s editor rather than costar.”

Charles flops onto the couch. Daniel just looks down at the man, before looking over his shoulder at his boyfriend. “And how’d you respond?”

“What?”

“How did you respond to her asking you out?”

His face goes blank, and a look of realization dawns on his face. 

“I panicked?”

“How badly?”

“I kept— okay I responded pretty badly,” Charles admits, and then groans right into his hands, rubbing his face in frustration. He keeps thinking about how he’d kissed your tattoos. Had he inadvertently made you feel like you could ask that? Furthermore, were you really, truly asking that, or were you still somewhat caught up trying to be a good sub?

Images of you sleeping in his bed as the morning sun rises conjure up in his mind, followed by cooking together in the kitchen of his flat, and he can’t help but groan angrily at himself for letting such a fantasy with someone who he could call his coworker appear in his mind at this moment. You, smiling up at him with that coy grin on your face as you sit across from him at the cafe, brushing your foot against his shins while sipping at your cup of tea. Your feet up on his lap while reading a book on his couch, pure domestic bliss. 

“Fuuuuck,” Charles just keeps his hands on his face. “She’s gonna hate me.” 

“She’s not going to hate you,” Daniel tries to comfort him. “Just tell her you need time to think about it.”

“No but— I was also sending mixed messages,” he mumbles, and he hears a long, drawn-out sigh from both Max and Daniel. “I was kissing her shoulders. I— I couldn’t help it, I felt bad, I kinda spanked her without warning earlier in the stream—”

“Gross.”

“I know! But this one donor was getting so pissy about how she was responding—”

“I’m sorry, you let someone who was watching and imagining touching her dictate how you were actually touching her?” Daniel raises an eyebrow, and he folds his arms across his chest. “Dude. You’re her dom, not to mention how many times you’ve been with her. Why would you get so possessive then?”

Maybe he is a bit possessive. Last year, during a studio-based shoot when another dom had been too rough with you, using your blindfold to practically drag you around the set, and spanking you much harder than he had originally implied he would, Charles had immediately cut the camera and kicked the man out of the room, not even letting him get dressed. He’d gone straight to your side after that, checking you were okay for nearly an hour before even considering letting the filming start again. 

That had earned him a bit of a reputation as possessive over his subs, you in particular. The lack of collaborations with any other actors certainly hadn’t helped much either, with your last one being with Daniel almost half a year ago, and that one had been a cuckolding video, where he had posed as the husband watching his wife getting fucked and bred by another man, not even touching you throughout the process besides a scripted kiss at the end. 

Now, Charles feels like he is 1.) the stupidest man on planet Earth and 2.) just passed up on an opportunity that you had presented him on a silver platter. He stares up at the ceiling as Daniel looks down at him. Maxis typing away in the corner, and makes a little ‘hm’ noise, likely getting to the part of the stream where he’d spanked you. 

“Wow. That sounded bad. Didn’t leave a mark though,” Max hums, and then starts to type again, before making a much more distressed noise. “No fucking way— Dani! It’s the fucking guy again!”

“Wha— really?” Daniel dashes over to look at the screen while Charles stays on the couch. “Ugh. What a fucking creep.”

That piques some interest.

“What?”

“Yeah— the guy with the weird dono? Total creep. Tried to commission me into some weird, non-con roleplay. Wanted to do a solo stream for just him, totally ignored all of my rules for that stuff, and outright told me to ‘Just suck it up’ when I used the safeword for some of the shit he was saying about me.” Daniel shivers, and for a moment, Max looks like he wants to strangle the man until his boyfriend squeezes his shoulder. Charles's blood runs cold. 

“What?!” Charles looks over the username again. MattiaBinn. “Jesus fucking—Je le tuerai moi-même pour avoir voulu que je fasse une telle chose avec elle—”

“English, Charles.”

“I’ll kill him myself,” Charles growls, and starts to march right towards the door, “I need to talk to her right now—”

“Or maybe we need to give her time to cool down,” Daniel reaches towards him, holding onto his shoulder and pulling him backward. “She probably still needs some space and to take care of herself after the stream, regardless of how much aftercare you did with her.”

Part of Charles hates that Daniel’s right. Another part of him says that no, you should be letting him take care of you. That’s what his job was as your dom, he was supposed to take care of you and make sure you didn’t experience sub-drop. You deserve only the best, and right now he’s not acting like that. Quite frankly, he’s being a bit of a self-righteous prick about his own feelings for you. 

His phone pings with a notification, and out of pure irritation, he considers silencing it, until he sees it’s an email from a frankly disturbing email address. From: Mattia Binotto. Subject: Commissioned Private Stream.

“Oh, putain de merde,” Charles groans, and quickly scans through the email. It’s exactly as Daniel described. Non-con, harsher treatment, and quite honestly, the opposite of nearly everything Charles did as a dom and that you would agree to. Infuriatingly, your business email has also been sent this. You text him not a second after he’s done scanning it.

Did you also get this?

It seems… uhm, interesting. 

Attached is a screenshot of the email. You’re awake, at the very least. Alert enough to be checking your business email. He texts back quickly. 

I’m not doing any of that.

That’s not the shit I do. Fuck.

…okay. 

Sorry, you seem to be in a bad mood. 

It’s not your fault

Please don’t blame yourself for any of this, mon doudou

I kinda feel like it is…

I didn’t mean to push any boundaries or make you upset about this

I am sorry, Charles.

Charles wants to bash his head against the wall because now he feels like utter shit for making you feel guilty about his own stupidity. Just as he’s about to text you back you send him a goodnight text. When Daniel glances at the screen he visibly winces. 

“Yeah. I’d give her some space.”

Space turns into a week. Instead of the normal collab stream, you do a solo one. Charles ends up watching it. You’ve got an array of toys behind you, most pretty pastel colors or swirling abstract designs that make an odd pit settle in his stomach at the idea of them bringing you pleasure rather than him.

You’re currently fucking yourself on a dildo he’d gifted you, shaped like… certain sweet treat. It was meant to be a bit of a gag gift— the name of it was called the banana split, for Christ’s sake— but seeing you fuck yourself on it made him groan, palming the hardness in his pants as you gasped and whined. You were wearing one of his hoodies too, muffling your little noises into the sleeves. And the chat was loving it, encouraging you to keep going. 

And then the fucking donation showed up from that fucking prick Mattia.

Needy little thing. Do you think you deserve to cum? (€50)

The robot voice that read out the message had you whining, and you momentarily pause, before slowly lifting your hoodie to give the cam a better view, showing the slight bulge in your tummy from the toy resting inside of you before you started to bounce up and down on it again, rutting your hips forward as if that could provide some respite for the high you were chasing. 

“Y-Yes—wanna cum—” Your face is hidden, as per usual, just off-screen, but at the very top, he can see how your chin wobbles a bit as if you’re currently panting with an open mouth, “Please please please please—”

Hold it. Not yet. Needy little sluts only get what they need when they’re good. (€50)

Rage bubbles in Charles’ stomach. Who the fuck did this asshole think he was, first of all, calling you a needy slut, and then acting like you were his to take care of. Charles makes a note to ban him from both of your chats as soon as this is over. 

He can tell by your posture that you look startled, and the chat mixed. Some are telling Mattia to fuck off, while others are encouraging you to listen because Charles isn’t there. You whimper, confused, and Charles nearly screams, sprinting to get to his keys while the stream continues on his phone. He knows how insane he must look, having porn very audibly playing on his phone, but he doesn’t care, not as he starts his car and calls you. He can hear the phone in the background of your stream, and you whine even louder, the wet sounds of you fucking yourself on the toy pausing.

“Fuck, doudou, pick up,” Charles groans, his driving becomes more and more reckless as he gets closer to your apartment. “Pick up!”

The sounds of your stream seem to pause, and there’s a rustle as you move, hopefully reaching for the phone and—

Did I say you could do that, slut? Or are you too stupid to listen to directions? (€50)

Charles roars as he hears you let out a pathetic whine, followed by sniffles. How dare Mattia insult you like that, how dare he make you feel unsafe when you should be feeling nothing but safe and loved. He was going to find him. He was going to find whoever this Mattia Binotto was and beat the tar out of him.

“M’sorry— wanna be good—”

“You are good,” Charles’ mouth is dry,  right as he pulls outside the front of your flat, with a half-assed park job that’s likely going to get him a ticket if he stays there until morning. “You’re so good, mon petit doudou, just hold on,”

You’re not being good now. Apologize, you useless little slut. No wonder your dom isn’t here. What a spoiled little sub. (€50)

Charles fiddles with the lock, searching for the spare you’d told him about, hidden under a fake rock right off of your stoop. He opens the door, nearly forgets to close it behind him, and screams out your name as he tears through the kitchen.

Find your biggest toy for me. And show us how badly it hurts. Do it if you want to be good for me (€50)

When he manages to get to your room, you’re startled by his sudden appearance, and so is the chat. There’s a new, much larger toy positioned under you, the tip just brushing against your folds. The first thing that Charles does is cut the camera. The next thing he does is end the stream. A final donation, clearly placed before the stream ended appears on the screen, all the notifications from the tip jar making a discordant melody with your hiccuping sobs and Charles’ panting.

The donation makes him see red.

Fuck yourself. Slow. Let me hear you cry. (€50)

You let out a whimper, shaking, as you sink onto the toy, only to be scooped up by Charles. He doesn’t give a shit that he’s knocking around the toys and is probably making his possessive reputation worse. He’s not going to let you hurt yourself because some fucking pervert got in your head, and he’s furious that you’ve fallen for the same manipulation he did. 

“M’sorry— m’sorry, I wanna be good—”

“You’re so good, tu es si bon pour moi,” Charles croons, rocking you back and forth, holding you close as you cry into his chest. “I’m here. I’m here. You don’t have to do any of that. Let me take care of you.”

It takes nearly thirty minutes to get you to stop crying. You keep your face pressed into his shoulder, shaking as Charles soothes you, humming softly to you. He speaks in French, knowing that you enjoy the way his voice sounds when he speaks it. 

“Can you tell me where you are, Doudou?”

“In my bed,” 

“Wonderful job, so smart for me,” Charles praises, kissing your forehead softly. Your grip tightens on his shirt, and he can feel a small huff of air against his skin when you breathe out. “And what’s my name?”

“Charles. You’re Charles.” You murmur. “How did you get in here…?”

“Spare key.” He shifts so that you can look at him, one of his hands coming to cup your cheek. His thumb brushes under one of your eyes, the skin sticky from tears. “I was… I was watching the stream.”

“Oh.” You lean against his chest, letting him stroke up and down your back. You nuzzle into the collar of the hoodie. Charles presses his nose into your hairline, inhaling your scent, while keeping his lips against your forehead. “So you….saw…”

“He’s banned. It’s the same guy from the commission email.” There’s a hint of rage in his voice, which fades the moment your nose nudges under his chin, dislodging him from your hairline. 

“Thanks.” He can feel the curve of your lips turning into a smile as you nuzzle into him further. “My hero. Taking care of me, even when you’re upset.”

“I’ll always take care of you,” Charles’ voice catches in his throat at the admission, pulling away enough to look down at you. You, smiling up at him with that coy grin on your face, and a sleepy look in your eyes. 

“It could be nice,” You murmur again, shyer than before. “You and me, couldn’t it?”

“I think it could be more than nice,” His lips are so close to yours, enough so that he can feel your breath against them. Charles has been balls-deep in you. Has fucked into you until you cream around his cock and sobbed out his name. But this is quite possibly the most intimate thing he’s ever done with you. “Really, really nice.”

The taste of your lips on his is divine as he holds onto your waist with one hand, and cups your face with the other. You giggle when he pulls away to catch his breath, and before he can even stop himself, he’s grinning and pressing you into the bed, blowing a raspberry against your cheek just to hear your shrill laughter and feel the butterflies in his stomach that appear every time you laugh around him. 

“Mon petit Doudou,” He can’t stop the grin on his face as he kisses all over your face, looking down at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. Your hair is fanning around your head like a halo. Your smile is infectious. And he can see a few blooms from your tattoos under the neckline of your hoodie. His hoodie. “Mine, mine, mine.”

“Yours, yours, yours.” You respond, curling into him happily as the two of you lay in your bed.

[kingofbodyrolls]

Say I Do (m) | jjk

Summary: you and Jungkook tease each other at your wedding reception.

Pairing: jungkook x female reader (no Y/N and unnamed)

AUs: non-idol!au, wedding!au

Genres: smut– like it’s just smut, nothing else 🤣

Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

Word count: 5,2k

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Warnings/tag: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, public sex, handjob, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, slightly rough sex, choking, biting, spitting, ass grabbing, impreg kink, degrading names (whore used once).

Author’s note: I made this for my lovely friend Lua (@letjungcoook7)!!!! SURPRISE!!!! I hope you like it! I was inspired to make this because of our chat, and I just want to say that you are so fucking lovely, sweet and kind 💖 I really hope this isn’t too much, but I just had too 🥹 I really wanted to make it dirty, but it ended up being more sweet instead, I’m sorry! I love talking to you and I just wanted to let you know that I adore and treasure you 😘 

Honestly Lua, I just wrote this to tell you how beautiful you are– mind, body and soul. Thank you Lua, I love ya 💜

This is just something very short while I work on ‘My Heart’s Home’. But I hope you like it, and please let me know what you think: my inbox is always open, and I love to hear from you, even a reblog/comment will put a big smile on my face 💜

Also!!! This is written from Jungkook’s POV (well I tried, lol). And normally I don’t describe the reader/MC, but she does have a tiny bit description in this, but I still feel it’s vague enough. But if that isn’t your thing, it’s completely fine 🙂 This is not proofread (because I’m too lazy for that right now).

This has nothing to do with my other fic 'say that again (I dare you)', but if you want to read that I'm not opposed (it's also a jjk fic) ✨

Fancy reading on AO3? 😉 

Rising gracefully to his feet, Taehyung's infectious enthusiasm fills the room as he declares, “I propose a toast!” His radiant smile sweeps over the myriad of guests you meticulously invited to your wedding—more than a hundred souls sharing in the joy of your love story. 

As he prepares to speak, Jungkook can't help but marvel at the grandeur of the occasion. Despite his personal inclination towards a more intimate celebration, he wouldn't dream of denying you this moment, surrounded by the warmth of friends and family who have come together to witness the union of two hearts.

Despite Taehyung's earnest attempt to capture Jungkook's attention with a throat-clearing preamble, Jungkook finds himself inexplicably entranced elsewhere. Even in the midst of one of his closest friends delivering a heartfelt wedding speech—something he should be wholeheartedly absorbing—but it’s hard. As hard as his dick that you’re palming over his dress pants.

The tantalizing dance of your hand sends ripples of pleasure through him, an intoxicating distraction that eclipses all other thoughts. It's an artful symphony of sensation, each movement crafting a masterpiece of desire within him. The struggle to concentrate on anything else becomes an exhilarating battle. Fuck. 

You, the mischievous enchantress, wield your allure like a potent spell. 

A tantalizing awareness of your own danger courses through your veins, and you wield it with an expert finesse. Every knowing glance, every sly smile, is a calculated move in the game you effortlessly play. You've mastered the art of ensnaring him, wrapping him around your finger with a magnetic force that compels him to dance to your whims. It's a dangerous dance, but he willingly succumbs to the intoxication of your charm, embracing the thrill as much as he cherishes the intoxicating love he feels for you.

What the fuck is Taehyung saying?

Taehyung’s words dissolve into a meaningless buzz, drowned out by the illicit symphony you're orchestrating beneath the table. The audacious zipper sliding down and the tantalizing exploration of your hand over the fabric of his boxer briefs command all of Jungkook's attention.

Profanity trembles on the edge of his tongue, but it's lost in the overwhelming sensation that eclipses any coherent thought. Your stealthy touch renders him blissfully oblivious to everything else unfolding around him.

Suppressing a low, guttural sound, he clenches his teeth, using every ounce of willpower to stifle the moan building in his throat. As desire courses through him like a wildfire, he willingly parts his legs, a silent invitation for you to explore more boldly, granting ample space for the electrifying touch of your hand over the hardened length of his cock.

He marvels at your audacity, finding it both exhilarating and daring that you'd embark on such a provocative escapade during your wedding reception. Yet, deep down, he acknowledges that it's a reflection of the wild spirit that has always defined your relationship. It's a shared affinity for dancing on the edge, reveling in the allure of danger, and delighting in the thrill of engaging in activities that should, by all accounts, remain private. It's a facet of your relationship that has always been magnetic, drawing you both into a world where the risk of being caught only adds to the intoxicating excitement.

In the blink of an eye, your hand deftly maneuvers beneath the fabric of his boxers, sending a shiver down his spine. A hiss escapes his lips as your long, slender fingers confidently envelop his cock. The warmth of your touch is both a balm and an inferno, and he instinctively tilts his head back in the chair, a silent plea for discretion. 

As he surrenders to the delicious sensation, he can't help but cast a furtive glance around, fervently hoping that the clandestine ballet unfolding beneath the table remains a tantalizing secret shared only between you.

Despite the uproarious laughter echoing through the room in response to Taehyung's speech, Jungkook remains oblivious to its contents, ensnared the choreography of your hand beneath the table. 

The mirthful ambiance only fuels his curiosity, surmising that Taehyung must have delivered a punchline or shared a humorous anecdote. Meanwhile, beneath the table's concealment, your hand skillfully traces a tantalizing path along his hardened cock, drawing a hushed hiss from Jungkook's lips. 

With a steely resolve, he masks any trace of emotion, locking his features in a stoic facade and maintaining an impressive silence. His determined effort is not just to conceal the electrifying sensations your actions are evoking, but also to safeguard the clandestine intimacy you both share from the prying eyes of the unsuspecting guests. 

Every fiber of his being is a coiled spring, resisting the urge to yield to the pleasure that threatens to unravel beneath the veneer of his restrained expression. 

As his gaze shifts towards you, he's met with an unexpected sight—there you sit, an image of demure elegance in your exquisite white gown. 

The fabric caresses your curves in all the right places, accentuating the allure of your figure. The daringly low neckline teases a glimpse of the captivating silhouette of your bosom, leaving him momentarily breathless. The off-the-shoulder design unveils a generous expanse of your soft, tender skin, a tantalizing sight that aligns perfectly with his preferences. 

Despite the provocative allure of your attire, your outward appearance betrays no hint of the illicit affair transpiring beneath the table. If he didn't intimately know the secret you were concealing—your hand discreetly exploring the realm beneath his pants—he'd be fooled by the serene facade you present, seemingly absorbed in the captivating rhythm of Taehyung's speech.

In a silent plea of gratitude, Jungkook revels in the fact that the attention of the guests is fixed on Taehyung's speech, sparing him the scrutiny of prying eyes. 

Little do they know, the real spectacle unfolds beneath the table, where your touch becomes an exquisite torment. 

Every movement of your hand is a tantalizing dance, a blend of ecstasy and torture that threatens to unravel him. With a teasing finesse, your soft fingers caress his frenulum, tracing a path towards the depths of pleasure. The deliberate slide over his slit elicits a shiver of pure ecstasy, leaving Jungkook teetering on the precipice of desire that you expertly navigate.

Your hand envelops him, a cocoon of warmth that intensifies with each skillful stroke. The pleasure coursing through him is undeniably exquisite, a testament to the mastery of your touch. Yet, a lingering awareness tugs at the edges of his consciousness—an impending climax that threatens to unravel the careful threads of restraint. The exquisite sensations you evoke compel him to desperately anchor his thoughts, to redirect the intoxicating focus from the captivating dance beneath the table to Taehyung's speech.

The challenge lies not just in resisting the magnetic pull of pleasure but in maintaining a semblance of composure, navigating the delicate balance between the ecstasy you're orchestrating beneath the table and the public façade demanded by the occasion.

“We’ve been friends for so long, how many years is it now, Gguk?” As Taehyung poses the question, a hushed anticipation envelops the room, and all eyes converge on Jungkook. 

Fuck. 

All eyes are on him and he can’t think— he’s mind is clouded with thoughts of you. 

Taehyung– Fuck. How long have they been friends? 

In a sudden stumble of recollection, he breathes out, “17 years,” the weight of the shared history resonating in the room. Yet, the gravity of the moment is unexpectedly intensified as you administer an assertive squeeze around cock. Fuck.

With a chuckle that slices through the tension, Taehyung seamlessly continues his discourse, effortlessly reclaiming the attention of the room and redirecting every wandering gaze back to him. A collective exhale echoes in Jungkook's mind, a silent gratitude for the timely diversion that spares the clandestine spectacle beneath the table from becoming the unwitting center of attention. 

Relentless, you maintain the rhythm on his dick, displaying an unwavering determination that hints at an intention to push him to the brink, right under the unsuspecting gaze of the gathered guests. 

As the divine caress of your hand propels him perilously close to the edge, a surge of urgency overtakes him. Desperate, he turns his face towards you, eyes silently pleading for respite, but your gaze remains steadfastly elsewhere. 

Frustration wells within him, and he attempts to use his hands to guide yours away, only to find your grip tightening in response. The conflicting forces of pleasure and restraint collide within him, his muscles tensing as a hitch in his breath betrays the precarious precipice upon which he teeters.

Leaning in, you bring with you a halo of your natural sweet scent, an intoxicating allure that wraps around him, overwhelming his senses and leaving him slightly dizzy. 

Your lips, soft and plush, delicately find his cheek in what appears to be a tender gesture to the outside world. To the unsuspecting onlookers, it's a simple, sweet kiss on the cheek. 

Little do they know, in that same moment, your daring move involves not just the gentle press of your lips but the subtle exploration of your other hand slipping under his boxers to fondle his balls.

Fucking hell he’s gonna come.

Ecstasy courses through him like a wildfire, an imminent eruption fueled by the intoxicating cocktail of your skillful touch on his balls, warm breath teasing his ear, and the relentless grip on his pulsating desire. The threshold between pleasure and release narrows to a perilous edge, and he finds himself teetering on the brink, held captive by the maddening symphony of sensations you've orchestrated. 

Despite his valiant efforts to remain attentive to his friend's speech, the sheer mastery of your pleasure-inducing touch proves insurmountable. Every deliberate stroke, every strategic squeeze of his balls, propels him further into the abyss of ecstasy. In a moment of surrender, he can no longer contain the torrent of desire, and ropes of his essence surge forth from his throbbing dick. His lips bear the weight of a stifled moan, as you keep stroking him through his orgasm.

Beside him, your chuckle is a symphony of sweetness interwoven with a hint of mischief, a melodic backdrop to the ongoing crescendo of pleasure you expertly administer through his orgasm. 

As he traverses the realm of oversensitivity, a low, guttural grunt escapes him, drawing the curious gaze of Taehyung, engrossed in his ongoing speech. Though momentarily caught in a gaze of questioning inquiry, Taehyung forges ahead, resuming his speech with a peculiar stare, unwittingly oblivious to the spectacle unfolding beside him.

Thank fuck both of your parents aren’t seated right next to you. That would have been utterly mortifying and embarrassing.

With a deliberate finesse, you retract your hand from his crotch, guiding it gracefully over the table, where you nonchalantly employ a napkin to erase any lingering evidence. Seated there, you adopt an innocent facade, a picture of angelic composure that conceals the fact that, mere seconds ago, your hand delved into the forbidden realm beneath his pants. 

With an audible exhale, he reaches for a napkin, hastily attending to the aftermath on his pants. The damage is fortunately minimal, thanks to your deft intervention that efficiently captured most of his release. Smart girl.

But a mischievous spark ignites in his eyes, a silent vow echoing beneath the surface - oh, he's going to get back at you for that, you little minx. 

–

As the notes of the classic wedding waltz envelop the room, Jungkook marvels at the surreal reality—he gets to call you his wife now. The ethereal glow surrounding you transcends the physical, a radiant aura that has always defined you. Despite your humble protestations about your own beauty, he's captivated by the undeniable truth: you've always been, and continue to be, an enchanting vision. Countless times you've confessed to feeling otherwise, but in his eyes, you're a masterpiece. In this moment, as you dance together, you're not just a part of his world; you are his entire universe.

Gazing into the pools of your sweet, doe-like eyes, their exquisite almond shape captivates him, holding his attention in an unbreakable trance. He contemplates the nuances of your beauty, from the enchanting curvature of your slightly upturned nose to the endearing moments when he can't resist playfully poking it during your teasing exchanges. Every inch of you, in his eyes, is a masterpiece, and he pledges to vocalize his admiration every day, a ritual aimed at etching your beauty into your own consciousness. 

He dreams that with each affirming word, he'll weave a tapestry of self-love around you, until the day you see yourself as he does—undeniably, breathtakingly beautiful.

As you dance, your eyes ablaze with an unmistakable love, he luxuriates in the intensity of your gaze. A daring current of desire propels his hand, gliding with deliberate intent down your body until it boldly claims your ass. 

Uninhibited, he seizes it with audacious confidence, the bold move oblivious to the watchful eyes surrounding you. A soft, mischievous squeeze elicits a sweet chuckle from you, a harmonious note in the symphony of shared amusement that reverberates through the party, as the crowd collectively succumbs to the captivating allure of your uninhibited dance.

As the soft strains of the music envelop you both in a waltz, your heads draw nearer, the enchanting melody echoing the tender dance of your hearts. With the song nearing its end, he seizes the moment, leaning in intimately close to your ear. The hushed promise that escapes his lips carries a tantalizing undercurrent, his warm breath grazing your skin as he vows, “I'm going to get you back for earlier, babe.”

He senses the subtle shiver coursing through you as his touch lingers, a silent testament to the shared electricity between you. As the final notes of the song fade into the applause and cheers of the crowd, seizing the perfect moment, he leans in, embracing you in a sweet and passionate kiss. 

As the rhythm of a more upbeat song invigorates the dance floor, he seizes the opportunity to whisk you away from the lively crowd. Amidst the pulsating beats and the vivacious laughter of the guests, he guides you outside the building, their merriment gradually fading into the background.

In the crisp night air, he asserts a sudden dominance, pressing you against the sturdy wall. His gaze, infused with an unmistakable hunger and need, locks onto your beautiful eyes, creating a magnetic tension that reverberates between you. 

“You are a little minx, you know that?” His words, not laced with anger but rather a dangerous undercurrent of arousal, hang in the charged air. Your chuckle, a sweet symphony that further stirs the tempest within him, prompts a hiss as he succumbs to the magnetic pull, diving fervently into the captivating abyss of your mouth.

The kiss intensifies, a collision of passion that is both hard and rough, fueled by an undeniable need. In the urgency of the moment, he can't afford to wait, the impatience palpable in every fervent press of lips. 

You envelop him in the embrace of your arms, fingers intertwining at the nape of his neck, while your gaze rises to meet his. In the depths of his eyes, once warm brown orbs now transformed into pools of near-black intensity, a reflection of the potent arousal coursing through his veins. 

Your hand embarks on a daring journey, descending to the front of his pants once more, and the response is instantaneous – hardness reignites, a testament to the insatiable flame you kindle within him. Desire for you pulses like a constant current, an almost permanent state of arousal that defies logical explanation. Whatever enchantment you cast upon him, it's an irresistible force that weaves a tantalizing spell, leaving him perpetually captivated by the mystique of your touch.

Breaking away from the embrace of your soft lips, he wears a smirk laden with both warning and allure. “You're playing with fire, babe,” he remarks, the subtle edge in his voice echoing the intoxicating dance of danger and desire that swirls between you.

In a hushed whisper that flutters against your ear, he breathes, “You've been a naughty girl.” 

The words, laden with an undercurrent of sultry authority, send a shiver down your spine, awakening a cascade of tingles that traverse the landscape of your entire body. 

Descending to the delicate expanse of your neck, he peppers it with soft, almost teasing kisses, each touch a prelude to the symphony of sensations. Then, in an abrupt shift from gentle caresses, he bites down, coaxing from you a loud moan that resonates through the air—an intoxicating sound that echoes in the depths of his desire, a melody he'll never tire of hearing. 

Continuing his explorative journey, he ventures further south, his lips descending to the curve of your breasts. With a deliberate tenderness, he places a kiss atop the soft expanse of your tender tits.

Gracefully sinking to his knees, he gazes up at you with a mischievous smirk, the air thick with a heady mixture of desire and anticipation. His tongue darts out, grazing his lips in a provocative dance of anticipation, signaling the imminent exploration of pleasures yet to unfold. 

With an assertive grip, he seizes the front of your dress, drawing it away in a swift, purposeful motion. Despite the abundance of fabric, he deftly bunches it up with ease. “Hold your dress, please,” he directs, handing you the end of the gathered fabric. 

“Hmm. Nice lace stockings, and that girdle—what are you doing to me?” he murmurs, his voice a tantalizing blend of desire and fascination. His gaze lingers appreciatively on your beautiful thighs encased in nude stockings adorned with lace at the top, fastened to a concealed girdle on your waist.

His eyes widen with a mix of surprise and arousal as they land on your wet and glistening pussy, the evidence of desire trickling down your thigh. “Oh my god. You're not wearing panties?” he breathes out, his voice carrying the weight of both revelation and anticipation. A subtle lick of his lips betrays the intensity of his reaction.

A playful chuckle escapes your lips as you hover above him, and without a moment's hesitation, he immerses himself in the intoxicating warmth of your desire. His lips eagerly find their destination, tracing a decadent path from the delicate folds to the pulsating essence of your clit. 

The sensation ripples through your body, igniting a shiver that becomes an involuntary response to the electrifying dance between tongues, pleasure, and the shared yearning that binds you together.

He embarks on a tantalizing journey of tongue and suction, starting with teasing caresses that send tremors of anticipation through your body. His hands, strong and purposeful, find purchase on your thighs, holding you in a firm grip as he orchestrates a symphony of pleasure with his skillful tongue, creating an intoxicating dance that blurs the lines between sensation and desire.

A throaty moan escapes your lips as his nose delicately brushes against your pulsating cl*t, his tongue delving as deep as its voracious hunger allows. The exquisite sensation of his exploration elicits an involuntary clenching around him, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.

Your thighs, unable to withstand the intensity, succumb to a tremor, trembling beneath the intoxicating caress of pleasure that consumes you.

His dexterous fingers ascend to your throbbing clit, and with a skillful touch, he sets in motion a rapid dance of pleasure, causing your entire body to quiver with newfound intensity. The quickened rhythm of your breath becomes a symphony of desire, a telltale sign for him that you're teetering on the precipice of ecstasy.

Eager to reciprocate the pleasure you bestowed upon him within the confines of the reception, he fervently laps at your tender folds. Simultaneously, his fingers engage in a deft dance around your throbbing clit, orchestrating a symphony of sensations that echoes the pulsating rhythm of desire between you.

With the harmonious fusion of his skilled tongue and nimble fingers, he orchestrates the unraveling of your senses. As ecstasy courses through you, your body convulses in euphoria, your walls clenching around his tongue, and the pulsating rhythm of your clit intensifying under the spell of his fingers. 

Waves of pleasure surge through you, causing your body to quake, and in the throes of ecstasy, you release a high-pitched, strained moan that bears his name—an intimate symphony of pleasure that lingers in the air.

Breathless and overwhelmed, you gasp out his name, a plea woven into the words, “Fuck, Jungkook. I can't stand up anymore.” As he gracefully withdraws from your core, his gaze rises to meet yours, locking in a shared moment of intensity.

He chuckles, the rich timbre of his laughter lingering in the charged air. “I know, babe. Do you want me to fuck you against the wall?”

You draw in a sharp breath, and he keenly observes the subtle clench of your hand, the fabric of the dress tightly gathered within your grasp. 

“Fuck yeah,” An unbridled affirmation escapes your lips, a primal declaration of desire. As he rises to his feet, a surge of urgency propels him to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss. The taste of your own release lingers on his lips, creating an intimate communion of shared pleasure that binds you together in the aftermath of passion.

As he engulfs you in a fervent kiss, the symphony of desire playing out between you, his hands deftly navigate the zipper of his dress pants. With a purposeful movement, he unveils his throbbing cock, stroking it in rhythmic cadence. 

His hands, driven by a primal urgency, seek out the contours of your a*s with a possessive intent. “Jump up, babe,” he commands, the resonance of his voice weaving a spell of anticipation. As you obediently jump, he effortlessly lifts you, cocooning you against the wall. 

In a brief struggle against the bulk of your dress, both of you grapple with the fabric, pushing it away from the front of your entwined bodies. A shared chuckle hangs in the air, a lighthearted interlude in the midst of fervor. But as the fabric yields to your efforts, Jungkook seizes the opportunity, moving in with an insatiable hunger to bite at your neck once more. 

With a sultry whisper, he breathes, “I'm gonna fuck a baby into you, would you like that, hmm?” 

The words, pregnant with promise, glide against your ear, and the responsive clench of your legs around his waist speaks volumes. A knowing chuckle escapes him as you endeavor to pull him even closer, the shared desire resonating between you in the charged space.

“Please,” your plea, a desperate yet fervent entreaty, escapes your lips, a poignant melody of desire that resonates in the charged air. The subtle smirk that graces his lips is both a testament to your undeniable need for him and an acknowledgment of the power he holds over your cravings.

With a deliberate touch, he locates his throbbing cock with one hand and skillfully aligns it with your dripping entrance. The tantalizing dance begins as he teases your slick folds with the head of his pulsating dick, creating an electrifying friction that amplifies the anticipation between you two. 

“Gguk, please,” you plead with a mixture of desire and frustration, your voice echoing the urgent need for him to bridge the gap between anticipation and fulfillment. However, he remains steadfast, skillfully teasing your slick folds without granting the entry your body craves. 

With a desperate plea escaping your lips once more, he finally relents. The moment stretches with anticipation before he forcefully thrusts his thick cock into your eager pussy. The collision is met with an audible impact as your back forcefully meets the wall.

He forgoes the customary pause for adjustment, intuitively aware that you relish the exquisite stretch when he enters you so abruptly. Without hesitation, he plunges deep into your core, reaching the furthest recesses, his thick length grazing against your cervix. 

“You’re so big, the stretch feels so good!” 

You gasp breathlessly against his body, overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. The intoxicating stretch sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, a visceral reminder of the intensity between you two. Determined to fully immerse yourself in the sensation, you pant against him, actively striving to ride the wave of pleasure, desperate to fuck yourself on him, the relentless pursuit of ecstasy evident in every ardent movement.

He establishes a relentless rhythm, driving into you with a force that resonates against the unyielding wall of the building. The symphony of your combined panting echoes in the air, a melodic accompaniment to the unbridled passion unfolding. Jungkook, captivated by the primal symphony, savors every delightful noise escaping your lips—a harmonious blend of desire and surrender, heightening the intensity of the fervent connection shared between you.

As he thrusts into you, each powerful motion striking your cervix, he elevates the intensity by trailing one hand up to your neck. With a gentle yet possessive touch, he wraps his fingers around your throat.

He knows you like it dirty and rough, and fuck he does too. 

His taunting words, laced with a playful yet provocative tone, cut through the charged air. “Did you enjoy the little game with your fingers down my pants while Tae was making his speech?” The rhetorical question hangs between you, a teasing challenge that elicits a subtle clenching reaction around him. 

In a sultry revelation, he whispers, “'Next to your bridesmaid and your parents. You naughty girl.” The hand steadying against the wall takes a firm hold of your ass, squeezing the soft flesh with deliberate intent. A resonant moan of pleasure escapes your lips, harmonizing with the rhythmic cadence of his thrusts as he skillfully targets your sweet spot. 

“So naughty,” he breathes, punctuating each fervent thrust with a rhythmic intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “You enjoy getting off in front of your friends, huh?” His words, infused with a seductive blend of desire and provocation, become a tantalizing soundtrack to the relentless grind of his dick into you.

“And getting me off too? Whore,” he seethes into your ear, the heated accusation leaving a scorching trail of desire in its wake. Your response, a shiver against his body, fuels the intensity of the moment. 

As he continues to fuck you with an unrestrained force, your breasts bounce in a mesmerizing rhythm that captivates him. So fucking perfect.

“Stick your tongue out,” he commands, his eyes intently fixed on you as you obediently roll out your tongue, anticipating the act you relish. The charged moment lingers, pregnant with expectation. With a deliberate move, he spits on your waiting tongue, and you, the embodiment of submission, dutifully swallow it.

Damn it, he knows he won't last much longer if he continues to be entranced by the rhythmic bounce of your enticing breasts—they possess an almost hypnotic allure over him. And that tongue of yours, oh, it's pure seduction. 

“And you can't even wait until we reach our hotel suite to be fucked. So fucking needy, and I love it,” he declares, a blend of admiration and desire lacing his words. The deliberate clench of his fingers around your throat follows, a subtle yet potent assertion of control. His gaze remains fixed on your eyes, watching with a predatory intensity as they dilate even more.

As he tightens his grip, the sensation of his fingers constricting around your throat elicits a primal response—your walls clenching around his cock. The synchronized symphony of pleasure and control intertwines, and a guttural groan escapes him, an audible testament to the ecstasy coursing through his veins. 

Driven by an insatiable desire, he redoubles his efforts to fuck you even deeper.

“My filthy wife,” he pants into your ear, the possessive term dripping with desire, a declaration that ignites a primal response within you. The sultry proclamation elicits a moan of his name from your lips, a vocal affirmation of the all-encompassing pleasure coursing through your body. His acute awareness of your nearing climax manifests in the rhythmic clenching around his dick, a tangible sign of the intimate dance between you two.

“Fuck, Gguk. I'm so close again. Fuck!” you pant fervently against the curve of his neck, the words laced with desperation and desire. He senses the mounting intensity in your voice, a symphony of passion reaching its crescendo. 

Yet, he's attuned to the nuances, recognizing the subtle signs that your body, though on the brink of ecstasy, bears the weight of fatigue, having navigated the day in those tantalizing heels. 

“You crave an audience, don't you? Want people to watch you, to hear you,” he moans into your ear, the words a sultry declaration that fans the flames of desire between you two. The acknowledgment of your shared exhibitionist desires ignites a fresh surge of pleasure, prompting an instinctive clench around him.

“Then scream my name, let everyone in the damn party know how damn good I'm fucking you,” he commands, the intensity of his voice sending shivers down your spine. As your walls clench with even greater fervor, pulsating around his dick, a wave of your liquid envelops him, transforming the intimate connection into a slippery dance of shared pleasure.

You unleash his name with a primal scream, the sheer force of your ecstasy reverberating through the open air outside. Your head drops against the curve of his neck, seeking refuge in the haven of his embrace as the waves of pleasure cascade over you.

He relentlessly thrusts his dick into you, the urgency palpable as he seeks his own release. “I'm gonna give you a baby, just like we've always dreamed of.”

“Ahhh, fuck, yes!” The exclamation bursts from your lips, a little too loud, as an uncontrollable surge of pleasure courses through you. Your teeth instinctively seek refuge on his shoulder, sinking into the firm flesh in an unbridled act of both ecstasy and restraint.

“Fuck, babe, I'm gonna come,” he confesses with a guttural moan, each subsequent thrust punctuated with the desperation of impending release. His rhythm stumbles, an involuntary response to the intensity building within him as he hurtles towards the precipice of his orgasm. And then it hits him.

The rhythmic bounce of your tits in his face, the soft and sweet scent that envelops him, and the melodic cadence of your voice—all converge to cast a spell on his senses. In the midst of your lovely moans, he succumbs to the intoxicating blend of sensations, unleashing a torrent of white-hot semen deep inside your spent pussy. 

Panting and gasping, you both struggle for precious breaths, bodies slick with the sheen of sweat acquired in the throes of passion. Amidst the shared exhaustion, a mutual chuckle reverberates between you, an intimate exchange that encapsulates the postcoital atmosphere.

With your head nestled against his, you gaze into the depth of his eyes and confess, “I love you, Gukkie.” The words, tender and raw, bridge the physical intimacy you've just shared with the emotional vulnerability of a heartfelt declaration.

“I love you too. Every damn inch of you, you're so beautiful,” he pants, a declaration infused with both desire and admiration. As he smiles at you, the post-passion glow accentuates the sincerity in his eyes, turning the exchange into a powerful affirmation.

He'll never tire of professing his boundless love and adoration for you, vowing to weave those sentiments into the fabric of each passing day. The promise to remind you, with unwavering devotion, echoes in his commitment to articulate his love every damn day.

Please let me know if you liked it with a comment, reblog, and ask or whatever 💜

[cryptidm0ths]

some additional sketches, dont worry kohaku is ok hes just a little sleepy, needs a little mimir

i have been looking at this too long but they got to dinner together :]

[evolnoomym]

Make Daddy Proud 🦂

Stepdad!Joel Miller x f!reader

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Summary: You don’t necessarily like your Mothers new beefy Husband, he tries and tries. To no avail, you just won’t warm up to him. When his patience reaches an end things finally get interesting.

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: no use of y/n, female reader, Moon is not a name necessarily but more a nickname, age-gap, ages are unspecified, cheating, infidelity, alcohol consumption, smoking, reader is mean, dubcon, Daddy Kink, reader has a pussy, sex toy, wet humping (?) 😅, cum, squirting, Sunny appearance, reader kinda shames Joel,

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: this is for @beefrobeefcal ‘s Married Joel Sits On You Challenge. I hope you enjoy Beef, I love you 🦂🤎😏😏😏

Shoutout to @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics for the dividers 🤎

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. I appreciate reblogs, comments and likes greatly 🫶🏻

Your Mother started dating Joel when you were 17, within a year they decided that the two of you would be moving into Joel’s house. Their relationship had an astonishing pace, it made you sick, you should’ve felt happy for her but you couldn’t bring yourself to get used to the idea of having a stepdad again.

Admittedly he was much nicer than the previous one. Joel was really trying to make it easier on you, but he realized quickly that you were not gonna just eat out of his hand like your mother did.

One time over dinner he decided to jokingly offer that you could call him Dad and you were not amused at all.

“You know Moon ya don’t have to call me Joel, could just call me Dad, huh? How bout that.” He gave you a happy and warm smile. He looked genuinely excited.

“No fucking way, Joel, thank you but you are not my Dad and you’ll never be. You are just you.” The response came out in a harsh and cold way, to clearly let him know that you weren’t up for it.

The rest of the dinner was filled by an uncomfortable silence and Joel never tried asking you again.

A couple months later, he caught you smoking out on the patio. He had planned to drink one of his beers in secret. He kept them hidden in his wood carving room, since your mother disapproved of the bitter sparkly liquid.

As soon as he slid the door open he got hit by the smell of burning tobacco. You were leaning on the railing, staring up at the sky, taking slow drags of the glimmering cigarette, clouds of smoke surrounded you and Joel couldn’t help himself from taking in your bend over form. The curve of your ass, your thighs and all the way down to your bare feet. Joel would never admit it but your distanced act pulled him in more and more.

You knew he was right behind you, staring, you could feel his eyes tracing you up and down. Perhaps you arched your back a little more than necessary to show off for him. Give him a show. Have something you could hold above his head if need be.

After he’d gotten closer he stopped right next to you and started quietly sipping his beer. At some point he held out his beer towards you and in exchange you offered him a cigarette. You both knew that this would be your shared little secret, with many more to come, big secrets.

Joel thought he made some progress that night, but you continued to treat him just like before.

Then the day came where Joel decided to get down on one knee and asked your mother to marry him, right in front of you.

You didn’t think it would be possible to dislike him even more. Why would he want to marry your mother? Why did he have to weasel his way into your life? Why did he have to look so good? Why was all of this happening?

The wedding was quickly planned, nothing too fancy, just the closest people invited, which sadly included you too.

On all the wedding-photos that were taken you looked disgusted and appalled by the reality of your situation. Your mother tried to reprimand you for pulling all these faces but you were not gonna pretend to enjoy any bit of the show they put on.

Joel obviously recognized some changes in your behavior after the wedding, but instead of getting better, it got worse. You didn’t even try to hide your disdain anymore. Purposely bumping into him, ignoring when he spoke to you and if looks could’ve kill he’d be dead long ago.

But there’s something else in the way you glared at him, a glimmer of something undetectable and it scared him to not know what went through your head. You could’ve been plotting his downfall and unlike the rest of the family, Joel didn’t wanna make the mistake of underestimating you.

Marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed over all like a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline. Something you took advantage of, resorting to a childish approach of shaming his beefy form. Calling him out for his large portions, laughing loudly when you could hear him from the master bedroom complaining about his clothes not fitting properly anymore. He could feel your eyes tracking his every move, he felt like prey being watched before getting attacked, all of it happening in his own home.

Joel decided he wanted to make one last attempt to persuade you to accept his presence at least somewhat. You didn’t have to be his Bestfriend, but at least get along with him.

He had organized a spa weekend get away for your mother, so the two of you could spend some uninterrupted bonding time together. Maybe without your Mother you’d feel more comfortable opening up to him.

As usual you started the day by scowling at every move he made, even when you sat on the passenger side of Joel’s car while he drove you to the local aquarium you stared holes into the side of his head.

Even though you were afraid of deep waters he learned quickly that you loved sharks and have always wanted to go to an aquarium. Your mother however never really cared much for that wish, so Joel thought this is how he’d get you on his side.

Instead of having a pleasant conversation with you, he was punished with icy silence. He pathetically trailed behind you in the 2 hours it took to see everything the aquarium had to offer. You didn’t even thank him afterwards but he tried to chalk it up to you maybe having a bad night.

Joel hoped that perhaps him taking you to Kiki’s Nail’s, a very highly respected nail salon, would make you happy but more than a little smile was not in it.

Kiki generously offered that he could sit next to you, to watch what she does on your nails, but you quickly declined.

She also mistook you for his wife, which had you cackling loudly, purposefully embarrassing Joel and implying that he could never land a woman like you.

He got more and more upset, especially seeing you interact so excitedly and animatedly with Kiki. He didn’t understand what he had to do so he could get the same enthusiasm for himself. It pissed him off quite frankly.

When you stood next to him at the cash register you didn’t even blink an eye at 140$ your manicure cost Joel. You even went as far as to laugh at him for getting choked up by the amount of money he had to spend.

At least you seemed to really love the design Kiki did. A little victory he counted for himself.

When you got home, he told you to settle on the couch and relax, all while he was in the kitchen preparing his famous Miller tacos. Your mother told him behind your back that you liked them very much, but of course you’d never admit it to his face.

Even though Joel knew you probably just acted as if you didn’t enjoy them, the lackluster response soured his mood further. It hit rock bottom when you left him to deal with the dishes and ignored the fact he bought your favorite movie to watch with you.

After he had gotten done with cleaning up, he decided to indulge on some of his hidden whiskey. He pours himself a glass and sits down on the couch. Joel feels beyond frustrated by everything that went wrong today.

He spends 30 mins just slowly sipping on his whiskey, all while trying to figure out what to do next. The alcohol in his system makes the ever present Texas heat appear much stronger, so without thinking he pulls his sleeping shirt over his head.

Now only clad in his cotton pajama shorts and with alcohol cursing through his system, Joel impulsively decides he might have to take the route of having a serious talk with you about the ever pending attitude.

Joel stomps up the stairs, thinking you would hear it which makes him not even bother to knock, no, he practically throws himself against the door.

He should’ve expected to be greeted by immediate screaming.

“Joel what the hell?? Get the fuck out of my room!!”

“Noooo…no you shut up lil missy, ‘ve had enough of ya pissy attitude.”

“Get out,” And when he doesn’t react you continue “Are you deaf, old man, do I need to spell it out?? Fuck off.”

If Joel would’ve been less drunk he might have caught the panicked and out of breath way in which you spoke.

He starts shaking his head as he approaches your bedside.

“You know I’ve had enough of you, I tried all damn day to make ya happy. Ya didn’t show me an ounce of respect,” he comes to a stop beside your bed “ what is your goddamn problem, huh?”

You could say something to de-escalate the situation but that would be so unlike you.

“Fuck you, Joel.”

In Joel’s head a switch flips, within a split second he swings his leg over you and as he sits down on your hips the healthy swell of his tummy rubs up against you.

A shiver runs up your spine and you let out a sigh.

“W..wha- what are you doing Joel?”

He looks feral, like an animal ready to pounce on you any moment.

“Teaching ya a much needed lesson, sweet girl.”

His big warm, calloused hands engulf your wrists and pin them to the mattress beside your head.

Out of the corner of his eyes Joel sees something purple, he looks towards your nightstand and there it is. A purple silicone cock shaped vibrator, it looks glossy, covered in slick.

You can see the wheels turning in his head and when he seems to have come to some sorta conclusion his features light up.

His head turns back to you.

“Oh babygirl, ya naughty lil thing. You’ve been playin’ with yourself? Been in a bad mood all day long cuz that needy little pussy needed some attention,huh?”

Instead of answering your eyes wander down his bare chest.

“Where’s your shirt Joel?”

“Ya got a problem, baby?”

Your cheeks are heating up and you start nibbling on your lower lip while still staring.

“Ya like what you see sweet girl?”

He lets go of one wrist and tilts your chin up with two fingers.

You nod.

“Nah, use your voice babygirl. Come on ya know what I want to hear.”

“Yes Daddy.”

He grunts deeply.

“Atta Girl.”

Now both his hands slip beneath your lower back and he sits up while pulling you with him.

You go from being pinned beneath him, to sitting on top of his lower gut.

Your hands are splayed on his chest, probing yourself up.

His hands go to your hips, instantly squeezing and kneading.

“Oh baby, she’s leaking, dripping all over me. That lil pussy is so sloppy.”

With that his hands momentarily slip lower to pull his shorts down, at least so much that his cock can be freed. One of his hands goes back to your hips, while the other comes up to your mouth.

“Spit.”

And you do. Letting a decent amount drop into the palm of his hand and then it disappears behind you. At the squelching noises you're able to detach that he is touching himself.

“Start rubbing that cunt on me. Make yourself come. Use me sweetheart.”

He instructs, while setting a rhythm with the hand on your hip.

The slick noises that his hand wrapped around his length produce combined with your wet pussy fill your bedroom.

“Yes baby, ya doin’ so good for me. Finally being a good girl.”

You feel his thumb soothingly circling your hipbone.

“I was already close, I’m gonna come soon, Daddy.” You sound deliciously whiny.

Music to Joel’s ears.

It takes not much longer to make Joel catch up with you. You can tell he’s getting close by the way his hands grips your hip tightly, he will most likely leave marks.

“Baby you gotta lift up for me. Quick!”

You swiftly lift yourself up and watch in awe how he paints his tummy with white creamy ropes of cum.

“Good god, baby,” he writhes beneath you, “settle back down darlin’.”

When you lower yourself back down onto him you moan at the incredible sensation of his spend being spread up and down his hairy belly by your lips. It stimulates your engorged clit perfectly.

You are whimpering furiously.

“Da..Da- Daddy, so..so good. I’m gonna come, it feels so different, ughh.”

“Yes baby, be a good girl an’ come on me. Come on Daddy’s tummy.”

It takes only a couple more seconds before you fall over the edge with a high pitched scream, you feel yourself leaking more than ever before, hips stuttering in his iron grip.

You flop forward into Joel’s neck, burying yourself there and inhaling his comforting scent.

“Sweet girl ya made Daddy very happy, didn’t know ya could squirt, my princess is full of surprises, ain’t she?”

His cheek leans against yours to get your attention but to no avail, all energy was spend.

The soft snoring is all indication Joel needed.

He gently turned you on your back, got up, retrieved a washcloth and carefully cleaned you up. The last thing he does is tuck you in and leave a kiss on your forehead.

Hours later you are laying on your stomach in bed while holding the phone up to your ear.

“Sunny you won’t fucking believe what happened yesterday.”

Sunny’s manic giggling tells you she already has a pretty good idea of what could’ve happened.

Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI, thank you 🙏🏻

Tags: @aurorawritestoescape @joelmillerisapunk @milla-frenchy @the-mandawhor1an @rivnedell @iamasaddie @toxicanonymity @ace-turned-confused @strang3lov3 @pedropeach @tonysopranosrobe @moonlitbirdie @joelstummy @joelsdagger @joelslegalwhre @joelsgreys @pedge-page @littlemisspascal @fhatbhabiee @punkshort @macfrog @thundermartini @mrsmando @xdaddysprincessxx @mountainsandmayhem @syd-djarin @msjarvis @miss-oranje-disco-dancer

[kurishiri]

AGF “The Dark Mafia” gacha: card quote translations

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but please don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

꒰ Elbert🍎 . ꒱ “ You can keep your eyes closed. The sins and the smell of blood don’t suit someone like yourself. ”

꒰ Jude⌛️ . ꒱ “ Come ‘ere a bit. Tch, there ain’t a single bloody eye on ya that’s hidin’ what they want. ”

꒰ Ring💍 . ꒱ “ ——If there’s anyone that hurts those dear to me, I will kill them all. So, come at me with all you got. ”

꒰ William🍓 . ꒱ “ ‘Come here.’ How do you like the fear of having your life trampled upon? ”

꒰ Alfons🪞 . ꒱ “ When it comes to battles… I can’t say I take too much a fancy. For you see, those cries of dread are all the same, and they’d only bore me to no end. ”

꒰ Ellis⛓️ . ꒱ “ I don’t hesitate when I kill others for my job. After all, that doesn’t affect my love. ”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Finer Things 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as non/dubcon, age gap, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your mom surprises you with a visit but has a lot more in store than you could ever imagine.

Characters: Tony Stark

Note: Another sexy silverfox.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Thor loves thunder. Take care. 💖

“It will be so good to see you, honey,” you mom’s buoyant voice rings in your ear drum and you move the cell away from your ear. You make a face and catch the eyes of passerby, cringing at yourself as you veer away from the coed and continue towards your residence. 

“You too, mom,” you reply as you keep to the edge of the walk, sure to keep out of the way of students and faculty alike. 

“I have a surprise too!” She rings out. 

“Mm, you do?” You frown. The last time she had a surprise, it wasn’t really for you. Her trip to the Caribbean had you alone for your sixteenth but that was like five years ago. 

Your eyes skim the rustic colours of the curling leaves as wind whips around the collar of your coat. You plug your other hear so you can hear her voice. 

“Oh yes! It’s all really exciting. Just make sure you wear something fancy. I looked up a few local spots and this one looks very upscale,” she trills. 

That’s your mom. She spends more than she should, or has. If she had access to your trust, you wouldn’t have tuition. It’s just another part of your life that makes you feel helpless. 

“Alright, I’m sure I have something...” 

“What about all those clothes I gave you when I cleaned out my closet?” She preens. 

“Mom, I couldn’t fit them in my suitcase.” You don’t mention that you didn’t fit into them either. Your short and rounder than her. 

“Do you need money? I could send you my credit card number... one of them.” 

“It’s fine. I’ll find something,” you assure her and dodge out of the way of a group of frats. You feel so invisible. It’s like no matter what you do, no one sees you, even standing right in front of them. “I should go. It’s windy.” 

“Okay, I guess you can go,” she whines. “But I’ll see you tonight. Oh, I’ll send you the address too. Should I send an uber?” 

“Mom, please, my tuition includes a bus pass--” 

“The bus? Oh, at night?” 

“Mom,” you grit again. “Please. I’ll get there. See ya then.” 

“Alright, alright. I love you. Buh-bye.”  

You hang up and tuck your phone away, keeping your hands in your pockets as the tails of your coat flap with another chilly gust. You slope your shoulders against the autumnal temperate and hide your cheeks against your scarf. You love this time of year for the apple cider and pumpkin everything but the weather isn’t always so pleasant. 

As you get to your building, you look up at the windows. There are signs decrying the latest political frenzy and flags with varying shades of rainbow, and some stickers stuck on the panes. Your own window is barren. Just like you, your living quarters are plain. 

You let yourself in through the front door with a flash of your fob and drag your feet up the stairs. Gabourey is in the kitchen on speaker phone. You often fall asleep listening to her conversations, though you try hard not to. Racquel would be working down at the bookstore, and most times you wonder where Virgie is, she’s in her room napping. 

Your entry goes unnoticed. You hide in your dorm and put your bag on the chair by the desk. You untie your boots and carry them back to the mat. Too late, you already soaked the small patch of carpet between your bed and the desk. 

You toss your coat on your bed and go to the wooden armoire next to the sink in the corner. It isn’t much space but it’s yours. You open the doors and stare down the garments hanging inside. You favour plaid, tweed, and muted colours. The plum turtleneck would go nice with your circle skirt but it feels so stuffy. Your mom said fancy, not uptight. 

Hm. A classic black dress. Everyone has one. Even you. It’s simple. A wrap with a bow at the hip. It emphasizes your curves but doesn’t make you look bigger. You can put a necklace on with it and fight your hair for some semblance of presentability. 

It doesn’t matter much anyway, it’s just your mom. You don’t really care what other people think. She’s the one so hung up on appearances. You’ll just enjoy the free meal, if her card isn’t declined. 

💎

Your mom texts as you shove your wallet in your purse. You put your glasses on over your fresh coat of mascara and read her message. ‘Uber on it’s way for you.’ 

You huff and key in your message, ‘mom, I told you not to worry.’ 

She sees it but doesn’t answer. She never listens to anyone. Ever. It’s why you haven’t seen your own grandparents since your graduation. What a lovely day that was. 

You shrug and grab your coat. Oh well. No use in arguing now. With how quick the app is, the driver’s probably right outside. Besides, you weren’t exactly looking forward to waiting for the bus in the bitter cold. 

As you come downstairs, you get another text. In the chat, you find a screenshot of your mom’s phone, but that’s not her phone number on the confirmation screen. Or yours. Hm. 

You match the license play before you approach the car. You get in and greet the driver. He doesn’t answer you. Wow, you’re in his back seat and you still can’t get a hello. Or maybe the music’s too loud. 

You clutch your bag in your lap and watch out the window. The tension rises to an awkward strangle and when at last you reach the restaurant, you thank him. He turns down the music before you can get the door open. 

“Thanks for the tip, lady,” he says brightly. “Awesome!” 

You smile and bid him ‘you’re welcome’, rather than correcting him. Even if it’s undeserved, you’ll take it. Your mom must already have ordered some wine. Her statement must be close to its limit. 

You get out and look up at the curvy cursive of the restaurant sign. It’s fancy for sure. You cross the pavement and enter warily. You might just convince her to go somewhere else. Somewhere affordable. 

You stand around in the lobby and stare at the hostess as her eyes cling to the tablet on her podium. She taps around on the screen and ignores you. Is she? Or does she just not know you’re there? You clear your throat and step up. 

“Um, hi, I’m meeting someone here. I think they’ve arrived but, er, yeah,” you grip your phone tight, “Joyce.” 

“Joyce,” she squints and checks her screen. You give your last name but she still can’t find it. 

“One second,” you back up as a couple enters and you pull up the chat. 

You frantically text your mom; ‘I’m here but they don’t have your name.’ 

The checkmark goes blue but she doesn’t answer. The bubble doesn’t even pop up to show she’s typing. Your stomach swirls and you look around. The couple is shown into the dining room by a server as the hostess looks at you. You can feel her judgement. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” a man appears in a suit, “I think my guest is here. Young thing--” 

The man pauses and you look up. Your heart picks up in recognition. It’s him. Tony Stark. The Tony Stark. Billionaire, engineer, generous donour to the university. He smirks at you. 

“There she is,” he heads for you and you shake your head. 

“Oh no, not me--” 

He says your name and you choke on your tongue. You touch your collar and shake your head. He chuckles. 

“Sorry, did I scare ya?” He beams at you. “Your mom’s holding the table.” 

“My mom--” you stammer. 

“Come on.” He beckons you with his hand, the flash of his expensive  

“Mr. Stark, did you need anything for the table?” The hostess asks. 

“I’m good, sweetheart,” he winks and keeps his arm extended to you. 

“Alright, well if you do, ask for Chelsea.” 

He laughs again and waves you close. You walk to him in shock. 

“Actually, Chelsea, her coat,” he says. 

He surprises you as he unbuttons your jacket himself. You just stand there. He pushes it back on your shoulders and you squeak. You turn to let him free your arms and he hands the wool over to the hostess. 

“There we go,” he purrs. 

You step away and cross your arms defensively. He bends his elbow and looks at you expectantly, “come on.” 

You hesitate but step forward. He grabs your wrist before you can react and hooks your arm through his. You still can’t believe it’s him. Or that he’s there with your mom. This is her surprise? How the hell does she wander into these things? 

You let him lead you into the dining room. Despite the lingering nip of the fall in your cheek, sweat forms on the back of your neck and speckles your scalp. You look around and find at least a dozen pairs of eyes watching you in turn. 

Stark leads you to a booth where your mom wiggles on the bench. She shimmies out from behind it and throws her arms up. Your escort releases you, brushing between your hand and your skirt, and your mom wraps you up in a hug. She rocks you with a squeal. 

“Honey! I missed you.” 

“Mom,” you groan. 

“Joyce, please, give the girl a moment,” Stark chuckles, “come on, let’s settle in. I’m getting a bit peckish.” 

You eagerly take his lead. You nod as your mom lets you go and you keep your eyes on the table. You slide in next to your mom as she sits. 

“Wine?” Stark offers as he lifts the bottle already on the table. 

“Erm, I don’t--” 

“She’d love some,” your mom answers, “don’t let me have all of that or I might regret it in the morning.” 

You force a smile at her joke. The undertone gives you an ick but you ignore it. Stark pours the glass. 

“We haven’t formally been introduced,” he says as he plunks the bottle down, “Tony Stark.” 

“Mr. Stark,” you take his hand as he offers it and shake it, “nice to meet you.” 

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he slithers the cliche and squeezes your hand before letting go. 

You retract and cradle your fingers in your lap. You’re burning with surprise and confusion still. You glance at your mom. 

“Your mom says you came straight from school, smartie pants,” he grins. “I’m honoured you came all this way.” 

“Um, not that far.” 

“You go to Keating,” he prompts. 

“Yes, er, you spoke there--” 

“I did,” he agrees quickly. “Back in the fall. You were there?” 

“Um, ha, yeah,” you twist your fist around your finger. “I-- It was busy, you probably don’t remember but me and my roommate came to the meet and greet. She got your signature.” 

“Oh, she did? But you didn’t?” 

“Erm, no, I didn’t have VIP,” you show your teeth sheepishly, “sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he waves off your apology. “You get a whole night with me.” 

Your mother giggles and puts her hand on his arm, “so, you like your surprise?” 

“Uh, surprise?” You echo thinly. “Sure, uh... I... feel like I’m crashing.” 

“Not at all.” Stark insists. 

“Thanks, Mr. Stark, er--” 

“Please, it’s Tony,” he says. “My father’s Mr. Stark and he’s a jackass at that.” 

You laugh, more nervous than amused. Your mom rubs his arm and leans into him, “you’re so funny, Ton.” 

“So I’ve been told,” he agrees but his eyes don’t leave you. 

You shift and peer around the restaurant. You already feel out of place here but with him, you’re even more uncertain. A clink brings your attention back to the table. 

“Come on, let’s loosen up,” he taps his glass against yours, “cheers.” 

“Cheers!” Your mother quickly scoops up her glass and knocks it against his. 

His smirk stays etched in his lips as he sips and you pick up your glass. You drink cautiously and squirm under his intense gaze. You wish he’d look away. Look at her! She’s the one you’re here for. 

[paper-mario-wiki]

i have been struggling to find it, you seem like you might know tho.

i think you may have reblogged it or maybe you've seen it but it's an actor redoing a photoshoot of an older actor wearing like a really thick and soft looking sweater and the modern photo's sweater is just depressingly thin and lame? do you know of any avenues I could use to look for one of those really thick soft knit sweaters?

you seem to be good at finding 'vintage' or otherwise good clothes so have you seen anything like this in your travels thank u

i think ive seen that, let me look it up for you.

i remember the specific context of the discourse around that post was highlighting the difference in quality between a genuine Aran sweater (super fancy special expensive irish heirloom knitting technique, thats as best as i can summarize off the top of my head), and a fast fashion sweater made of cheap bullshit materials warn by a stupid dumb- sorry i started thinking about how shit the modern fashion industry is my insults started pouring onto the dude in the picture whose name escapes me. i remember hes from parks and rec so i'll look up the IMDb for it. i dont remember his name but i remember his face and his bit. he was the really energetic neuvo-yuppy freak who was always doing weird fashion stuff, or so ive gathered from my limited knowledge of that show.

ben shwartz! so if i look up "ben shwartz aran sweater"

here ya go!

actually looking at him he is kind of a doofus in that rinky dink thin ass bullshit nothing sweater. i dont think he IS one but he looks like one here, i feel.

anyway, this has been the process of finding that thing you wanted. thanks for stopping by.

oh wait i just reread the question, u were looking for how to buy old vintage stuff. uhhh ebay, vestiaire collective, and uhh. i mean if you'd be willing to just buy from an actual aran sweater company, which would be similarly spendy to buy a genuine vintage one in good condition, you can buy one made of recycled wool from an irish knittery called Sheep Inc, who display the carbon offset each individual product they produce creates.

they could be secretly evil, i dont know because this is all information ive had to dust off from the back of my mind.

anyways, i hope that you have found something similar to what you were looking for.

[confessionbrain-writings]

Southern Sass - Benny Cross

Pairing: Benny Cross x F!Reader A/N: It's no secret Benny is taking most of my mental space these days. But okay, so this was just a blurb that had entered my brain. Don't know if I turn this into more. But for now: enjoy!🧡

*Ring... ring... ring...*

*Click*

“Yeah?”

“Yeah?”

...

“That’s how you answer the phone?”

“Yeah…”

“Wow, man of many words, I hear.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.. great, yeah-man, I’m calling for Johnny. Is he there?”

“Yeah.”

A few seconds of silence passed and a slow, annoyed feeling crept upon you.

“Okay, great. Can you go get him for me?”

“Mmm.. yeah..”

You rolled your eyes, was this man fucking serious?

“Fraid he’s busy right now.”

“Ugh, he always is. Can you tell him that Franki called?”

“Yeah.”

Annoyance turned into frustration and you couldn’t stop the words from leaving your mouth.

“You know, I really do hope you are a freak in the sheets, because your vocabulary isn’t very rich.”

A chuckle sounded over the line.

“Yeah… maybe y'd like to find out for y'self?"

"Thanks for the offer, but I'd rather not be disappointed, you know?"

"For someone who jus' wants t'speak t'Johnny, y'seem intrigued tho."

"Mmm... I think I'll be bored in seconds. Anyway, just tell Johnny I called, okay?"

"Yeah... Dunno... I reckon I could, maybe if I can take y'out for a drink."

A frustrated huff left you.

"I didn't ask for that."

"Well, it's on the house."

"Quite the charmer now, are you?"

"Yeah, that's what the ladies say."

"I'm sure they do, yet here you are, talking to me on the phone. What's your name, Casanova?"

"'s Benny."

"Okay, Benny. Very pleasant conversation this, but if Johnny isn't coming, I'm gonna go."

"Mmm... shame. I actually enjoyed our chat, Franki."

A smile crept upon your face and you shook your head.

"What does it stand for tho?"

"What?"

"Franki. Y'can't tell me that's ya real name."

"What if it is?"

"It isn't."

Pressing your lips together you rolled your eyes, why exactly were you still on the phone with him?

"Well?"

"Okay, Benny, I'm gonna tell you but then I gotta go, otherwise this is going to be expensive—"

"Don't worry, this is on me."

"How thoughtful."

"Yeah... but y'name?"

"Francesca."

He whistled.

"Fancy."

"Yeah..."

"Hey! That's my catch phrase y'stealin'."

"Too bad. Gotta catch me if you can."

*Tuut tuut tuut*

Leave some 🧡 by a comment or reblog, would love to hear what you think and if you like to read more!

A/N 2: read part 2 here

[noellefan101]

Your First Date-Genshin pt 3

Characters: Lyney, Freminet, Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Alhaitham x gn reader

Summary: Your first date with them,

Warnings: lyney flirting, tea

Note: omg im finally done, i really liked writing these tho, ye thats all i have to say school literally destroyed my brain, love you

Lyney

he would definitely preform a TON of magic tricks during your first date, both romantic, some are just pretty to look at and then there´s the brother-you're-just-embarrassing-yourself magic tricks

: said ever so kindly by Lynette

wouldn't make your date as public as his shows, since he wants to share the moments and magic tricks with you only

(+ Lynette, Fremi and "father" if she asked him so, but yk, they're only made for you)

after he had given you more rainbow roses than you could ever count to, he set out some homemade goods, like cookies, a cake, cupcakes(whatever you lik)

(in which he definitely didn´t spend a few days learning to make)

overall 10/10 (if you dont ask lynette, she had to leave bc of the amount of secondhand embarrassment(she was there at the start)) and it was enjoyable for u.

Freminet

yes, you would be underwater for your first date, but if you really don´t like it(yet)he can just take you some other time

^^but he would prefer to show take you on your first

[and yes, Lyney and Lynette (+his other siblings at home)did bet on when he would finally confesses and take you on a date]

he would let you wear his diving helmet if you really wanted to, but he would also just wear it if he felt embarrassed, or wanted to tell you a story (most likely abt pers)

he aslo ended up showing you a few of his mechanics(robots?)

and showed you some works in progresses other people haven´t seen, other than him and pers ofc

Wriothesley

he would drink tea with you in his office

^^maybe Sigewinne baked you something too,

but you mainly drank tea and just talked the whole time

(bro likes tea so much, someone pls make him shut up abt it)

well other than showing you and talking about his (absolutely massive) tea collection (and cake/bakery(sry))

if he´ll ever let you talk, ofc he will(its a very unfunny joke), he´ll listen to you for as long as you´d want to talk

you also laughed a little when he told about how melusines and stickers dont work well

and he liked seeing and hearing your laugh, so he might go for a date number two

Neuvillette

he would take you out to a fancy restaurant or he would just sit and talk with you somewhere more private

but maybe include a Melusine passing by here and there, checking on you both or for some work-related reasons (that they then put off, just a little, when seeing you both together)

i imagine that you would try some different types of water with him, by his request, and tried your dam best to find a difference.

but he would also get you any kind of drink, dessert or food you´d like

all in all its pretty easy bonding with him, and he just likes being beside you and spending time with you

Alhaitham

he would take you to a quiet cafe where you could sit in peace, since he doesn´t like loud places and want you two to be alone for the most part

he would pay 100% he doesn't even give you a chance to try and pay for anything (he´s nice when he wants to be)

he definitely brought a book with him to read(+ one for you) and would either let you talk while he reads a "little", or he would just read out loud so you know what kind of books he likes

he´s not good at doing any kind of romantic things, but he did try and do something

that including:

taking you out on the date later in the evening so he later could show you the stars, and point out some constellations

asking your friends (and maybe family) what you like food-wise, so he knows what kind of place he should have in mind when picking the place of your date

thank you for reading i don´t think i´ll make any more of these, but if you want it i´ll do it, luv ya-Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

[f10werfae]

Grumpy Lumberjack and his Baby Bun

pairing: Lumberjack!Henry × Wife!Pregnant!Reader

summary: Compilation of all the dirty things Henry as done to his baby bun, especially when she's pregnant (lactation, spit, dumbification, toys)

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated/Disclaimer 18+

Lumberjack Masterlist, Henry Masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Lumberjack!Henry gives Shy!Reader a collar:

“Baby bun av’ got ya a little somethin’” Henry called out into the warm cabin, his nose already sniffing out for her strawberry scented shampoo, his smirk growing once he watched her waddle into the room. His dried cum still plastered on her thighs, “Turn around for me sugar, need to see if ya followed me rules” He whistled seeing the pink ruby butt plug still deep inside her asshole, something he had set in an hour or two ago.

Truthfully he didn’t know, the entire sexathon leaving them both dazed and blissed out. “W-what is it?” She giggled climbing onto his lap once he sat down, her lower half completely bare, wearing only a tank top that Henry wore to work out. “S’ a pretty necklace jus’ for my baby” He smiled booping her nose, babying her just as she liked, her giggles once again filling his ears as she leant forward eagerly.

Pulling a jewelled choker from a fancy looking bag he presented the beautiful diamond thing, with the centre containing a rather large charm, the letter ‘H’ “W-woah so pretty, i-is it all mine?” She gawked seeing the piece of jewellery being clipped around the back of her neck, her hips wiggling happily as Henry leant forward to kiss her pouty lips eagerly. His fingers pinching her jaw to open her mouth, letting him spit into it filthily, using his two fingers to lather his saliva all over her tongue before he told her to swallow.

“Good baby” He cooed as she gulped down awaiting praise from him, having only been engaged a few days, they had definitely ramped their relationship up to the next level. “Take my shirt off sugar cube, wanna see my babygirl’s pretty tits with her diamond neck” Tugging on the hem of the vest she wore, it only took a mere few seconds before it was thrown somewhere out there. His hands immediately coming up to grope and knead at the two globes of flesh, his mouth spitting into the valley between them, rubbing the tits together to get them all wet and shiny with his mouth.

“I feel beautiful!” She squealed feeling him tweak and pinch at her perked up nipples, if there was anything Henry knew how to do, it was to make his sugar pie feel loved, wanted and beautiful. He was doing a darn good job at doing it too. “Cause you are beautiful, too beautiful it kills me” He growled his eyes trained on her whole upper body as if it was a magnet; God he couldn’t wait to plant the idea of babies into her clouded little mind. The picture of her all swollen and big with his baby made him feral just by the thought, and imagine her toddling around town pregnant with the jackpot of a collar around her neck. There’d be no doubt that she belonged to the lonely (no longer lonely) grumpy lumberjack that occupied the luxurious cabin in the mountains, Henry Cavill.

Shaking his head out of his own thoughts Henry watched as she poked and traced over each diamond delicately, her pretty eyes wide and sparkly just how he liked them. As if there was some spectacle to look at. Sneaking his phone out of his pocket he cursed himself when he snapped a photo of his fiancé, her tits exposed to the camera along with her face, her smile big; that was until the camera shutter went off and a grump formed on her face.

“Y-you can’t just take photos o-of me like that” She snarked slapping his shoulder gently as he pouted along with her and kissed her lips tenderly muttering a small sorry which he didn’t really mean. That photo was fucking golden. “Ya gotta l-let me get ready first H-hen”

She immediately smiled towards the camera, showing off the diamonds as she held onto the choker, her pearly whites showing as she squinted her eyes to let her smile grow larger. A smile which pulled at Henry’s heartstrings at how happy she looked, “So pretty baby, my pretty girl” He crooned looking back on the two pics so far, his eyes widening when she posed again, this time pushing her tits together to hug the ‘H’ pendant hanging off the choker. His baby bun was filthy and he fuckin’ knew it, he had corrupted her well and truly.

Picture after picture was taken until she finally took the phone out of his hand, angling it at a higher angle to get both their smiling faces in the shot, his hands grabbing onto each breast greedily. One would even say there was a photo of her tit greedily sucked into his mouth, her face still having that same wide smile, as if her husband wasn’t trying to milk her breasts.

Shy!Reader afraid of giving birth:

Henry’s heart started hammering when his hand went to the other side of the bed, his wife’s side was empty, and holy fuck she was pregnant too. Throwing the covers off, “Y/n?! Where are ya baby bun?!” He shouted using her actual name, something he didn’t do unless he was REALLY mad or worried about something.

“M-m’ here daddy” He heard her voice whimper out, his cock stirring from the choice of nickname. Ever since he had brought the name up during sex, she had started using it whenever she needed extra comfort from her beast of a man, after-all he was literally about to be the father of her babies.

Turning the corner to the kitchen he found her munching away on her chocolate chips, her newfound obsession during pregnancy. “I-I need a hug” She whispered looking at him from the bar stool, her eyes glossy with her arms out waiting for him, a tiny humph leaving her as Henry picked her up and sat her onto his lap. “I’ll give you all the hugs in the world sugar, anytime you need one ya let me know, but no more runnin’ off outta bed alright?” He whispered against the shell of her ear, his hand coming down to cup the front of her protruding belly, it was now evident that she was carrying twins, his miracles. “sorry, I-I wanted to t-think but then I got h-hungry” She sniffled pointing at the near empty packet of biscuits, her body curling itself as best as possible into Henry’s warm one. “What’s goin on in that pretty head a’ yours, what’s botherin’ my sugar, my baby momma”

“I-I. I’m scared. I-I know it’s going to hurt but i’m scared, n-n anxious, a c-section is s-scary, they gotta cut open my stomach and they’ll see my guts and-“

“Hey hey hey, stop rushin’ the thoughts baby, it’s totally normal to feel scared; heck i’m so proud of you baby, my strong baby bun” He whispered peppering kisses to her neck until he felt her start to laugh and wiggle on his lap. “I’ll be right beside you Y/n, every step of the bloody thing, I’ll be there when they place the tiny tots on your chest.”

“Holding my hand?”

“Holding your hand”

Vibrator in the panties:

Henry practically cackled watching his wife try to go about her daily habits, a wobble in her step as she tried to soothe the hard vibrations erupting in the panties. She knew something was up when Henry said she could wear panties at home today, she should have know he would do something like this. A built in vibrator placed right against her swollen clit, and she knew she couldn’t touch herself either, not with Henry’s rules, so she really was left on her own here.

Giving up on even trying to play with Marly her kitten, she huffed grabbing onto her weighted blanket Henry got her, if she had to suffer then he would too.

Straddling Henry’s lap she let the vibrator hit right against his cock whilst also hitting her pussy, Henry’s cock jerking with each rhythm of vibrations, his hands gripping onto her silk covered ass cheeks as he groaned and growled from the sensation. Guess he should have seen this coming too. “S-see Henry, I-I can be bold too” She whimpered slowly rolling her hips against his, her hands clenched around his shoulders as he bit his lip at the sight of her all blissed out. She had cum three times already in the space of an hour, her pussy raw and swollen and sticky with her own juices; that was until Henry decided to give her a squeaky clean shower with the shower head right on her pussy, before sticking a new pair of the same panties on her freshly washed pussy.

“Oh yeah bold” He grumbled slightly hating himself for even making the purchase now, his cock aching feeling the lips of her wet pussy clinging to his cock through the fabric, yet he couldn’t feel her. And he promised her he could keep the panties on all day, fucks sake.

When Shy!reader’s milk comes in:

“H-Hen? Come in here p-please?!” Y/n shouted from the bedroom where she had basically been nesting for the past few weeks now that she was getting closer to her due date, Henry was now on the go to getting prepared for the new arrivals, painting the nursery and getting the furniture (asking Y/n for colour schemes of course)

“Yes baby bun” Henry smirked standing by the doorway seeing her perched naked on her pregnancy pillow, it was getting to warm for her to be wearing clothes, hence Henry was now getting a free show 24/7 and he didn’t mind. With his wife’s sex drive being through the roof, it was practically easy access for him to slip in behind her in bed and fuck her senseless, or bend her over the kitchen counter as he pleases. Although that position was now getting harder with how swollen her ankles were getting.

“M-m leakin’” She pouted sitting up against the headboard, squeezing her swollen tits to show Henry that tiny beads of white milk where erupting from her rosebud.

Henry was waiting for this since the day he fucking met her, breeding her so hard that he’d be able to milk her tits into his waiting mouth before his babies arrived. “Oh baby they’re ready, so gorgeous n’ full” He gaped sitting beside her on the bed, her body facing his as he let his hands cup her massive jugs, expanded full with milk that she had produced. He took notice of how she winced clearly feeling tense, he let his hands softly bounce them in the palm of his hand, his fingers tugging lightly on her larger nipples surrounded by a now darker areola.

“Want daddy to make ya feel better sugar pie? I know how to make the soreness go away” He cooed rubbing his thumb over the too of her breasts soothingly, her lips pouted as she nodded desperately, eager to get rid of the extra weight on her chest that had a arrived a tad bit early. “Alright sit back against the headboard for me honey, daddy’s jus’ gonna suck the sweet milk right outta your tits”

“B-but isn’t that just for babies?” She asked confused, cocking her head to the side like an innocent puppy. “Don’t Ya know the daddy’s gotta test the milk for the babies?” He raised a brow, questioning her as if what he said was just common knowledge, “O-oh okay” She smiled leaning back against her pregnancy pillow, watching on as her husband’s full lips wrapped around one nipple, small whimpers and groans leaving her lips as she suckled softly consistently; small groans and hums leaving his lips every time he detached from her nipples to give it a passionate tongue kiss as if it was her mouth before resuming his suckling.

He continued to do this for another 15 minutes before switching to the other breast, before this time collecting the milk in his mouth and spitting it right into his wife’s waiting mouth, his tongue scavenging through her mouth roughly as they tasted her sweet breastmilk. “T-tastes good” She admitted shyly, her body feeling flush, “Does taste good doesn’t it baby? S’ useful too”

He groaned sitting up to release his cock out of his briefs, squirting some of her milk right onto his palm before he used it to lube up his cock; just how dirty could he get? “Squirt some more milk on me momma, need it so bad” He groaned smirking as she squeezed at her breasts hard enough that the pressure caused it to squirt right at him, “o-oh crap I don’t knot howta’ aim” She giggled watching the milk drip down his chest and mixing in with the trail of curls that nestled at the base of his cock.

“S’okay baby bun we got time to practice, now I think we should give your puffy pussy a sweet taste too don’t ya think?” Before she could even protest Henry was already attached back onto her nipples, massaging them in circular motions to help get the milk flowing right onto his thick wet tongue. His body burning as he spat right onto her slit, massaging it through her folds, letting his fingers find her wet snug hole. “a-ah daddy” She moaned eagerly wiggling her hips, and Henry gave her exactly what she wanted, pushing in two of his rough fingers in; practically filling her up already. Her breasts squirting a tiny bit of milk each time he thrusted inside her, almost like it was part of her response to his depravity. “Look at those tits go baby, fuckin’ milkin all over the place like a cow” He chuckled watching her whine and whimper at the pressure of her breasts slowly emptying, her clit and hole being played simultaneously and Henry’s stare was just out of this world.

Mixed with love, filth, obsession and lust for the pregnant woman in front of him, his lips coming back onto her nipples once again; Y/n knew instantly that this would become a habit and she knew she loved it

—-///

PSA: Hope this fulfilled some queries about their relationship! Next fic of lumberjack!Henry will be them settling in with their tiny tots, something like that :)

library blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

Taglist: @k3ira13 @shecamedowninabubble @ridingthehotmessexpress @heyitsme-2 @animez96 @namjoons-t1ddies @ameliascreampuffs @angelic-dreams13 @respectmyprivacys-blog @squishyturtle @awhore4moree @sorayasworld @loki-s-wife @pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @kebabgirl67 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @aerangi @alina02 @alexxavicry @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @acornacre @ggmimitf @thebaileybugle @p4st3lst4rs @kzhlvlysstuff @thoughtsofreid @cilliansangel @theekyliepage @cookielovesbook-akie @luvabellee @elenavampire21 @hoya122 @esposadomd @meyocoko @severewobblerlightdragon @kemillyfreitas @adoreyouusugar

Hope you all enjoy!!

[starstruckunknown-princess]

Peony - Steven Grant x Reader

Peony (Paeonia) - Shame, bashfulness

Summary: A slight comedy of errors forces reader and Steven to admit and act on some spicy feelings.

Pairing: Steven Grant x F!Reader

Word Count: 1790

Warnings: Reader is AFAB/Female presenting/has breasts, Steven being adorably embarrassed and awkward, use of "tits", male masturbation (non-explicitly described), excessive euphemisms for masturbation, discussions of masturbation, lots of kissing, making out

Day 10 coming in with some more spice! I love the Moon Boys and thought I'd give Steven a chance to ramble his way into our hearts.

In Bloom Masterlist

Likes, Comments, Reblogs are always appreciated! ❤️

You were scrambling to clean your flat as you waited for Steven — he was coming over to watch ‘The Mummy’ which, surprisingly, he had never seen. After your shift, you’d come home with the full intention of cleaning but had fallen asleep on your couch instead, only having woken up five minutes ago when he called to ask what you liked on your pizza. Your heart fluttered at his thoughtfulness as you gathered all the dirty clothes on your bedroom floor and chucked them into the closet. You’d gotten rid of the lingering trash on your coffee table, taken care of the dishes in the sink, and spot-cleaned your bathroom. 

Nothing like the panic-induced cleaning of a woman whose work-friend-turned-crush is on his way over. 

Looking down at your outfit, you realized you were still in your work attire — pencil skirt and fancy-ish blouse, both now wrinkled from your nap. You stripped off your blouse and bra and were halfway off with your skirt when you heard something ‘slap’ against the floor behind you. 

Without thinking, you spun around and saw Steven in the doorway, mouth agape and a pizza box at his feet. It happened so fast — you seeing him, his eyes glancing at your bare tits, back to your face, and his hasty retreat with a steady stream of ‘I’m sorrys” falling out of his mouth. 

“Wait, Steven!” you shouted after him, grabbing your discarded blouse and trying to chase after him, but he was already gone. You sighed heavily against the door to your flat, tapping your forehead against it.

Part of you was horrified — Steven had just seen you half-naked and not in the sexy way — while the other part of you was excited. Steven had seen you half-naked! Perhaps now he would make a move or, barring that, let you know he liked you as much as you liked him.

But that’s not what happened. The next day you saw him at work, you waved but he grabbed the phone, fumbling it and pretending to be in the middle of a call. 

When you were on your break, you headed toward the gift shop but just as you got there, you caught sight of Steven dashing around the corner with a box full of stuffed Basts. 

By the time your shift was over, you’d had enough. You strode up to the gift shop counter, trapping him behind it. He had the temerity to look scared of you, so you softened your approach and spoke quietly so none of the people milling about would hear you.

“Look, Steven, you saw my tits, big whoop,” you said, “I’m not mad at you or anything, there’s no need to avoid me. We’re still friends, yeah?” 

He ran a hand through his thick curls and sighed. “‘M sorry, course we’re still friends. I just…I wasn’t expecting…those when I walked in.” He gestured to your chest and you laughed.

You playfully punched him in the shoulder, “Well, I hope you learned a lesson about knocking next time. And, hey, thanks for the pizza.” 

He laughed and the tension between you evaporated. It had always been like that with Steven - easy going, honest, like nothing was too complicated that you couldn’t laugh your way out of. 

“You still haven’t seen The Mummy and we need to remedy that as soon as possible,” you said semi-seriously. 

“Tell ya what,” he said, “Why don’t you come to mine tonight and we’ll watch it. You bring the pizza this time.” 

“It’s a da- plan.” You stopped yourself before you could say ‘date.’ 

_____

In your excitement for the evening’s activities, you ended up being about ten minutes early to Steven’s flat. He’d texted you his front door code and said he’d leave his door open since you’d be coming with your hands full. Half-jokingly, you knocked softly on the door before letting yourself in. 

Steven’s flat was unlike yours in that it was one big room divided by his overstuffed bookshelves and piles of even more books. The only room with a door was the bathroom, and that was little more than a curtain. You were surprised you didn’t immediately see him, but you heard a grunt coming from the bedroom area. 

You put the pizza on the kitchen table then made your way toward the noise. 

When you got closer, you saw Steven was facing away from you on the far side of his bed. He looked to be stroking something in his lap—oh. 

Oh.

You didn’t manage to silence your gasp when you realized what he was doing, and he jumped up in shock, yanking his gray sweatpants up so you didn’t see anything. 

“Shit!” 

“Oh, God, sorry!” you said, covering your eyes. In your haste to turn away, you managed to smack your elbow into the corner of one of his bookshelves. Pain shot down your forearm because of course you’d managed to hit your funny bone. You gripped it, hissing at the pain with your eyes closed and tripping over one of the book piles and ending up splayed out on the floor.

Steven cried your name and dashed over, helping you sit up and checking you for injuries. He helped you stand up, making sure you were steady before taking a step back. 

“I didn’t see anything,” you insisted, crouching down to help him pick up the books you knocked over. 

“You don’t have to-” 

“I knocked, I swear!” 

“Please, don’t worry-” 

“I’m so sorry, Steven,” you said, looking up from the small stack of books you’d balanced on your knees. His brow was furrowed, cheeks red with embarrassment. 

“No, love, I’m sorry. I knew you were on your way but I couldn’t help myself. Not like it’s an ongoing issue, like compulsive or anything, but I couldn’t help but remember yesterday and, well,” he paused, gesturing toward your chest again, “and I didn’t want to greet you at the door with a raging hard-on so I thought I’d just, y’know, take care of it real quick but then you walked in and now I’m…rambling. Here, I’ll take those.” 

He reached for the books you were holding and you handed them off. He set them on a different stack a few steps away and rubbed the back of his head, facing away from you again. 

“Wait,” you said, brain finally catching up with what he was saying, “You…you were thinking about me? While you were…shining your statue?”

Steven let out a bark of nervous laughter, “Shining my statue?”

“Yeah, you know, shining the statue, flogging the dolphin, spanking the monkey, playing with the one-eyed snake, having a me-some.” 

You both burst out laughing at that. When you calmed down, he was shaking his head in disbelief while he fiddled with the too-long sleeves of his jumper. 

“So um, I brought pizza,” you said, motioning to the kitchen table, “if you still want to watch the movie. But if you’d rather I go, I totally get it.” 

“No!” he blurted, one hand reaching out to catch you even though you hadn’t moved an inch. “Let’s watch the movie, yeah?”

The two of you moved in sync, gathering plates and the pizza before settling on his bed, his laptop between you as he queued up the movie. You ate in companionable silence until Evie was bargaining for Rick’s life in the prison when Steven hit the spacebar and paused it. 

You turned to him to find him already looking at you. The look in his eyes was sheepish, as if he didn’t want to say something but knew he had to. Your nerves kicked in — was all of this a bigger deal than you thought? Had he been stewing on it? Your instinct was to diffuse tension with humor but, as you’d been told by more than one ex, sometimes it felt like you didn’t take things seriously as you should. 

“What’s up?” you asked. 

“I, uh, I didn’t answer your question.” 

You tilted your head, confused. “What question?” 

“About thinking about you while I, uh, wank.” 

“Oh,” 

“Cuz I do. Think about you. Not that I see you as just a sexual object, I think you’re absolutely brilliant but you’re also dead sexy and after what happened at yours it’s like I, I can’t get you out of my head so I thought avoiding you would make it go away but that just made my massive crush on you way worse-” 

He wasn’t just rambling, he was rambling about how much he liked you — how he stroked himself to the thought of you and thought you were brilliant and hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you. But the most important part was that he had a crush on you, too. 

You cut him off with a kiss, having heard more than enough.

Gentle at first, allowing him plenty of room to pull away if he wanted, but he pressed his lips against yours instead. One of his hands wrapped around the back of your neck, the other sliding around your waist. 

You brushed your tongue against his lower lip and he opened for you, licking into your mouth in a way that made you clench around nothing. Fuck — you had caught him fucking his fist to the thought of you half-naked. That thought plus his hand wandering under the hem of your t-shirt had you incredibly wet, almost dripping. 

Eventually, you came up for air. Steven looked gorgeous, lips slightly swollen from kissing and his blissed-out expression. You wondered what he looked like as he came, a smile forming on your face as you realized you would find out if you kept going. 

“Whatcha smilin’ about?” he asked, running a hand over your hair and letting it rest on your cheek. You turned your head and kissed his palm as an answer, then moved to the sensitive skin of his wrist. 

“You,” you replied simply. 

“C’mere,” he said, his hand on your hips pulling you over so you were straddling his lap. He sat up and kissed you again, hungrier this time, his hands roaming freely along your back, over your breasts, along your arms. His lips left yours and he kissed along your jaw, down your neck. Heat spread from every point of contact, leaving you wanting more but not without a little teasing first. 

“Steven,” you whined, “what about the movie?” 

“Sod the fucking movie,” he growled against your neck, one hand reaching over to slam his laptop shut and coming back to rest on your ass, pulling you against him. 

“Gonna show you what I’ve wanted to do to ya since we met,” he promised, and you bit your lip to keep from beaming at him.

[cntloup]

SUGAR

Mafia!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Rival's Daughter!Reader angst, toxic relationship

Simon was never a man for fancy ball events but as the right hand man of John Price, had to be by his side at all times especially at times like these, meeting with the rival. As they arrive at their destination and get the formalities of greetings and introductions out of the way, he goes to settle by the bar where he can have his eyes on the whole room, just in case. He orders his usual Kentucky Bourbon. As he stands there, drink in hand, his eyes searching the room for any kind of threat, that’s when he sets his eyes on her... and he should have taken her for what she really is... a threat; he should have ran right then and there but he never did. He had heard about her, the daughter of their rival, but never seen her beauty and grace up close. She looks elegant with a charming smile... and that’s when he knows he’s fucked. She feels a set of eyes on her and looks for them in the crowd and finally faces him. She's heard about him too. She starts walking towards him to greet him properly and that’s when it all started.

“This can’t happen.” he mutters in between kisses as they hide in the hallway “Why not? Cause we’re rivals? Who the fuck cares? If anything I’d be happy to fuck him over.” “who?” “My dad of course. Who else? I hate his fucking guts.” he’s surprised to hear that then replies with a chuckle “Why? Not the lifestyle for you?” “Fuck no! I feel like I’m in a cage. His puppet that he gets to play with and show off whenever he pleases.” he thinks that he can understand her struggles as he has his own trauma too.

And you play a twisted little game, But I know in a way, You need to complicate it, Believe that though we never eat, We still know how to feed, We still know how to bleed, oh

At that time he thought that she’s too sweet and innocent for this life, but that’s where he was wrong. The arguments, the push and pull, the manipulations started not too long after they first felt something for each other which he thought of as pure. He felt used and abused, he started to feel paranoid even more than before, never trusting anyone, even doubting his peers, sometimes even Price. His head full of thoughts like ‘Is she just using me for information?’ ‘Am I just a guard dog to him?’. But there was another side to her; so loving, patient and understanding of his pain and torment... also she was an enchanting seductress. Fuck, she was intoxicating. She had him completely wrapped around her finger.

My arms keep you in the room, Barely let you move, Show me what you do, oh, Tonight, we're second-guessed again, Let me wrap the chains, Addicted to the pain

As he pulls her into his room, never taking his lips off of her, nibbling and kissing any part of skin he can reach, he kicks the door close and corners her against the wall, not letting her move an inch. “What the fuck are you doing to me? My mind is in shambles cause of ya! Do you hate me or love me? One day you stay by my side through everything even when I’m at my worst but the next day you act like I don’t even exist as you come to the meeting with another guy on your arm!” he grunts as he puts one hand around her throat squeezing just enough to make her dizzy, just how she likes it. She smiles devilishly with no reply and pushes her lips against his and he can’t stop her, he never can. He’s addicted, fucking addicted to the pain she puts him through, addicted to her taste, everything about her. If she wants to see how far he can go, if she wants to test him, he’s more than willing to play this game with her.

Do you wanna see how far it goes?, Do you wanna test me now, my love?, You must be crazy if you think, that I will give in so easily, Things we buried low, Coming to the surface now, my love, You must be crazy if you think that I will give up the game, Oh, whoa

Sugar, I've got a taste for you now, Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥ 

[bonesxbows]

Ring of Fire (Cooper Howard x Reader)

Masterlist

You and Cooper are heading to collect a bounty, but it's a lot farther away than you anticipated. He's used to the sun but your pristine and non-irriated skin isn't. Heat stroke is imminent and could end up killing you if Cooper doesn't intervene.

(WARNINGS) - descriptions of heat stroke - descriptions of severe sunburns - descriptions of dehydration

The show reignited my fallout obsession but Cooper's character is so goddamn hard to write in a sorta romantic way since we mostly see him being an ass to everyone after the bombs. I still tried my best so hopefully it comes across okay. I think I also got the hang of his accent the more I wrote for this too

Anyway, I wrote this during a heat wave when I was miserable and needed some comfort lol so if you're reading this I hope it can bring you a little bit of comfort too. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated :)

-

Whoever said California was a pleasant heat sure as hell hadn’t walked through the desert after a nuclear fallout. Everything burned; the sand, the sun, the air, your legs, your nose. It was unbearable and if it hadn’t been over the promise of a large stack of caps at the end of the road you would have given up a long time ago. 

“If I see one more dried-up lakebed I’m gonna fucking lose it.” You mumbled, rubbing the sand from your eyes again. 

“Quit your complainin’, we’re almost there. An’ I told ya to stop doin’ that.” Cooper swatted at your arms, making you put them back down at your sides again. You scoffed but obeyed his directions. 

“I’m never gonna make it there if I can’t see where the fuck I’m going.” 

“Maybe, but you sure as shit ain’t gonna see nothin’ never again if your eye gets infected. Your body don’ have enough moisture to keep your eyes slick with the way you keep yappin’ your mouth off and wastin’ it.” He retorted back, his face snarled up into his usual scowl. You didn't say anything more for a good long while, not because of his fancy way of telling you to shut up but because talking was starting to become more and more physically taxing on you the farther along you went. There was nothing but more sand, more heat, and more nothingness for as far as you could see across the horizon. Every step added another weight to your head, making it feel like it was stopped up with cotton that weighed a million pounds and banged against the inside of your skull like a war drum. Your body felt like mush and your clothes felt twice as heavy. But you kept going, trudging behind your cowboy, using him as a guide through the pain. 

That is until you started to see three of him. And what was that whinnying sound you kept hearing coming from? Plus you swore there was a herd of something chasing the two of you what with all the stomping hooves you were hearing too, but every time you turned around there was nothing but sand dunes and the outline of destroyed L.A. on the horizon. 

“Wait. I…I think I need to take a break. In the shade preferably.” you stopped and told him after gunfire was added to the list of sounds you were hearing in the distance. One more step and you were sure you were going to end up with a mouth full of sand. 

“We don’ got time for pit stops sweetheart, keep movin’,” he replied back, still keeping his pace forward, not realizing you had stopped completely. Or just not caring. He wouldn’t leave you behind, not for long at least, but he still wasn’t listening. 

“Cooper fucking listen to me this time,” you shouted, hoping to catch his attention. You succeeded, as soon as his real name fell from your lips he made a dead stop in his tracks. “Please,” you added in a softer voice. You hadn’t meant to shout at him but your body was so overwhelmed and you were tired of being ignored. He tilted his face towards the sky and let out the most audible annoyed sigh you had ever heard from him before finally turning around to face you. 

“Alright, I’m sorry for pushin’ ya, just not so loud next time ‘kay? I don’ need the whole goddamn wasteland knowin’ my name.” he said as he walked back towards you. “Well, you’re still standin’ so that’s a good sign. What’s the matter?” you were used to his gruff exterior by now but you were just grateful he was finally taking you seriously. 

“I…I’m not sure? My head hurts so fucking much and I keep hearing things…I think. My skin feels like it's on fire and I-”

“Heat stroke. Goddamnit.” He cut you off, not even listening for you to list any more symptoms out loud. He sounded pissed, but you had learned by now that his angry voice and his overprotective voice were kinda one and the same. 

“...Heat what now?” you asked, but he never quelled your confusion. Instead he focused on scanning your surroundings. There wasn't much, there usually never was anyway, but he must've found something in the distance that would work for what he had planned. 

“Hm, that’ll do,” he said, more so to himself than to you. You weren’t really listening anyway, that whinnying sound was back and it was taking every ounce of energy you had left just to stay standing upright. He turned back to you and said…something, but you couldn't make out any of it. His lips were moving, sure, but all you could hear was muffled static as if you were underwater. Your face must have had a look of confusion plastered on it because it didn’t take long for him to figure out you were unresponsive, the way you just stared at him and blinked also didn’t help. 

He approached you and started to pull the sleeves of your jacket off, peeling the leather from your sticky sweaty skin off entirely. You stood there and let him, you may have been hearing things and had all the energy of a newborn sloth, but you could still recognize Cooper, and you trusted him more than anyone else. If he thought your jacket needed to come off then you trusted he had a good reason for doing so, even if the wind was starting to feel extremely cold on your exposed moist skin. 

He tried to talk to you again but you just continued to stare at him, watching his mouth move but none of the words making it to your ears. He shook his head and threw your jacket over his shoulder, grabbing one of your wrists and looping it over his back as he grabbed you under your arms and started to half drag you forward towards whatever makeshift shelter he had found. You tried to help, tried to get your legs to move with his, but it felt impossible. At some point, your head began to droop and your temple bashed into his shoulder, making you cry out in pain. He stopped to assess the damage, no doubt cursing you for being so clumsy even though you still couldn't hear him. He tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear and kissed your forehead where it had made impact with him before placing his hat on top of your head and continuing onward. The new barrier between the unforgiving sun and your dried-up eyes was a small relief to your unbearable discomfort, one you cherished every second of before your vision went dark for good this time. 

---

When you opened your eyes again you were thankfully in the shade this time, your skin still felt like it was on fire but at least the sun wasn't continuously beating on it now. You were sitting on the ground propped up against the side of a half-destroyed barn and you dug your fingertips into the sand, grasping for the cooler sand that usually lay a layer deeper than the surface, an old trick Cooper had taught you. 

The memory of that lesson in your mind had you spring up, frantically trying to find your cowboy again. Your jacket was still missing, and his hat was still on your head, but you couldn’t see him anywhere. You wanted to get up, you even tried to, but your limbs felt like jello and you discovered your toes and fingertips were numb. You tried again anyway, kicking at the sand with your feet to find purchase and clawing at the rotting barn boards to pry yourself upwards. 

“Hey, now it took a lotta effort to get you here, don’ tell me you wanna leave already.” You heard his voice and stopped, watching him as he came through one of the broken doorways into the barn, his spurs clicking behind him with every step. 

You blinked, making sure it was really him this time and not something else you were imagining again. But there he was; scorpion belt buckle, cowboy boots, saddle bags and all. He dropped what he was carrying next to the doorway, where you saw your jacket lying on the ground, and then came to sit in front of you, grunting as he knelt down and made himself comfortable. 

“Feelin' better?” he asked. You went to answer but then immediately felt just how dry your throat was. You coughed and tried to lick your lips, but your tongue felt like sandpaper against the already rough skin. You had never experienced a dried-up tongue before and you never wanted to again, it felt like a worm had crawled into your mouth and nested behind your teeth. Cooper was already prepared through and placed a can of water into your hands, already punctured with his knife. 

“Here. Small sips though, ‘kay?” he told you. You nodded, disappointingly understanding him even though you wanted to guzzle the whole can down right then and there. But you did as he told you, taking a slow and small sip, relishing the feeling of the liquid making its way down your throat and easing the pain a little. You tried to lick your lips again, this time succeeding in wetting the crusted-up skin. 

“How bad is it?” you croaked out, vaguely remembering what he had said earlier. Heat stroke, whatever that was, felt like one of the worst things to ever happen to you.

“Well, you’re still alive, despite losin’ consciousness and being fried up like an iguana on a stick from that there sun. I don’ think I’ve ever seen you with such a tan.” he smirked, poking fun at the lack of time you spent outside before meeting him. It wasn’t your fault life was safer inside a city and behind four walls of a shack, but still, it amused him to remind you of your sheltered past every chance he got. You rolled your eyes, grateful that you were at least still alive. 

“Will it scar? Or peel off like your skin did?” you asked, not sure which possibility you hated most. 

“Whaddaya mean?” he tilted his head at your question, confused. 

“You know, the burns.” you showed him your bright red and blistered forearms as emphasis to what you were talking about. You could only assume your face looked just as bad. He couldn’t help but laugh a little at your question, which only agitated you. “I’m being serious here!” you barked. You creased your brow, which you realized immediately was a huge mistake as the tension on the freshly raw skin caused fireworks to explode in your head and flames to shoot across your skin. You winced from the pain and that got him to stop chuckling. 

“Sorry sweetheart, no, neither is gonna happen. You might lose some skin, but not in the way you're thinkin’. It’s just a sunburn, not like you got attacked with a flamethrower. You’ll be fine.” he explained finally. You couldn’t help but sigh in relief, although you still weren’t sure what this so-called “sunburn” was and how it was different from a regular burn. But you knew he wouldn’t lie to you, so you believed him. 

“So what now? We still got at least a day’s walk to town.” with your emergent questions out of the way your mind turned right back to business. Caps were on the line and you were itching to claim them, despite the discomfort traveling imposed on you in your current state. He liked that about you, your desire for caps and the willingness to chase after them with him, though he would rather bite a radroach raw than tell you that to your face. 

“Now? Now we stay put for a while, at least til those burns heal up some. Ain’t no bit of leather and an ol’ beat-up hat gonna protect you enough from the sun if we try to continue on. Right now the only thing I need you to worry ‘bout is finishin’ that water that’s still in your hands.” he leaned back against the opposite wall from you, kicking his legs out and propping his head up with his hands. 

“But-” you tried to rebuttal his decision but he cut you off again before you could. 

“Nah uh, don’ even think about arguin’ here. We even try walkin’ and you’ll collapse again ‘fore we even make it a mile. Best to just stay here and try again once you’re not so dehydrated and redder than a tomato. Few days rest won’t hurt nothin’.” 

“Yeah maybe except our profits,” you told him, quicker this time so he couldn’t interrupt you again. 

“I ain’t riskin’ you over a pile of caps. We’ll make due either way,” he said before closing his eyes, marking the conversation officially over by him. You didn't have a reply anyway, it was rare for him to mention how he felt about you aloud, and each time he did you were left speechless. You stared down at the water can in your hands, tracing your finger gently over the raw edges of steel where his knife had cut through it for you. The metal had been bent back inside the can a little, almost as if someone had shoved a finger through the hole and pushed it back, smoothing out the outer edges where your lips had touched the can. Something in you had a suspicion that if you checked Cooper’s glove you would find scratch marks that would match the size of the hole perfectly. 

Your eyes flicked to him. You weren't sure if he was legitimately asleep or not, but his eyes were still closed and he hadn’t moved an inch. He always talked to you more like an old friend rather than a lover, yet you were pretty sure you were the only person he showed any amount of kindness to. Suddenly his hat felt a little heavier on top of your head as you sat there and pondered where your relationship with him stood. 

[queenendless]

❄️🎄🎁☃️Merry Making (Adult!SatoSugu x Adult!Fem!Reader ft Various JJK) ☃️🎁🎄❄️

A/n: I AM SO LATE TO THE PARTY!

Holiday fluff, ships, and so on, ya know the drill.

SO PLEASE DON'T PLAGARIZE COPY TRANSLATE STEAL OR REPOST MY FANFIC CONTENT. Rather reblog like and follow please and thnx u.

Fuzzy coziness in beige white and cream filled your eyes.

Early light streamed through the curtains.

“Merry Christmas, Y/n~” Satoru's purr was layered with pecks strewn all over your face, bringing a smile to the surface.

The feline man cradled Suguru's head as he gave him the same wakening treatment. “Merry Christmas, Suguru~!”

Said man deeply humming against the crook of your neck had you squirming and giggling, especially as his sweatered arms hugged you close enough to where his grip was too firm to break free from.

“So early,” Suguru grumbled raspily, pulling away from your neck to yawn in his knuckles.

“Better than being late for the day when I embrace my destiny as Saint Nicky~ Imma go get all fancied up for the rascals. I better see you coming right behind me all decked out, hubbie~” Gojo planted one big wet smooch on Geto's lips before giving you the same lovely treatment, pulling a garment bag outta the closet, giving you two a smile and a peace sign before dipping into the adjoining bathroom.

“Sugu?” Your pajama self moved to splay atop your slowly awakening husband.

“Hmm?” He rubbed his eyes, blinking to clear up the murkiness, when the feeling of your lips on his got him to be fully awake.

“Merry Christmas.”

He embraced you, kissing you in kind. “Merry Christmas, love~”

“Tada!” Springing out the bathroom door stood Gojo Claus. Beard, hat, boots and all. “Time to get the sack! Suguru, suit up!” The man warped away.

“Lord I will regret this.” Geto muttered under his breath before lifting you off him so he could get out of bed and pull out his garment bag out of the closet too, heading to the bathroom after giving you a wink. “See you in a bit, honey.”

A few days ago, you celebrated with everyone by throwing a Christmas party at the Tokyo school as it was the one chance you could throw one due to everyone having plans over the holidays.

You even had a Kiritanpo hot pot as the main dish, Christmas version. And a big one at that to fill everybody up.

You hummed as you started up your phone only to see notifications from your group chats. Opening it up, you viewed the photos sent to your phone ever since that night.

One of Haibara beaming brightly as he and a flustered Nanami were lounging on a beach in Malaysia, shades on and a drink in Yu's hands while Kento read off the stack of books he plans to read.

Another one showed Shoko and Utahime in the capital, Kuala Lumpur, with the former kissing the whipped cream off her wife's lips from their shared mug of spicy cocoa along a balcony setting of their lit up resort.

A snapshot of Riko and Misato in a ski lift viewing the snowy hills of a ski resort along the Alps with Yuki, Choso and Kamo skiing together down the slopes below.

More pics kept on piling in.

Miwa and Kokichi taking a sleigh ride through the falling snow, smooching his now beet red face.

Mai and Momo skating across a ginormous ice rink while doing it with such grace.

Todo catching a Takada-chan plushie THE Takada kissed on stage during her live Christmas bash, chucking it to the enormous crowds, hearts and tears in his eyes cause OF COURSE he caught it.

Kusakabe in a tavern drinking with Higurama; one of the many new sorcerers, flushed but at ease.

Yaga and Gakuganji sharing sake together.

Nothing from Mei, but knowing her, she's in a tub filled with cash, with Ui letting her do whatever cause he loves her so … yeah …

And knowing Toji and Shiu, they're probably taking shots while looking out over the balcony of their apartment window and just watching the land being draped in a blanket of snow.

A beaming Nobara and a flushed Maki going through holiday themed boutiques with a shy Fumi and an endearing Saori-chan in tow, so many bags already piling over in their arms.

Rika and Toge doting over a flushing nervous Yuta, spooning him on both sides, lounging in his apartment, with Panda acting as their cuddle couch, snacking on Christmas cookies, egg nog trailing down his conked out face.

Getting lost in holiday feels, you nearly forgot about the other presence in the room but the fuzzy sensations overwhelmed you. Your squeaking giggles were overshadowed by his conniving cackles streaming out as those furry fingers gently tickled you and those smart ass lips kissing your adorable face.

“Letting your guard down makes you vulnerable. It's difficult to resist you, my distracting beautiful wife~” Suguru crooned in your neck, horns on his head and cane in hand as he stopped the tickling to kiss your cheek then easily carried you up in one arm, letting your phone plop onto the sheets. “Now, let's go before Satoru drags us out himself.”

Fairy lights flashed many colors hanging strewn above across the living room ceiling.

A tall traditional tree stood in the corner. Tinsel, ornaments, string lights, and a small start plopped on top decorate the pine.

And Yuji and Junpei awoke to the smell of pancakes being made. Peaking into the kitchen, they spotted Megumi and Tsumiki already having platters full of Christmas tree shaped flapjacks lining up the island. Nanako and Mimiko were prepping up some hot cocoa with marshmallows.

When a sack of presents literally filled up the kitchen like magic.

“Ho ho ho!”

“Santa Claus!” Yuji's chibi self lit up with stars in his eyes at the bearded glasses wearing man poking his head in.

“Santa?” Junpei and Megumi weren't convinced.

The girls giggled, knowing who it was but going along with the cuteness.

A silky raven head with horns on top of his head popped out from the other door, cane in hand. “Yo.”

“K - K - KRAMPUS!?” Yuji turned blue at the alarming sight.

“Geto-sama!” The twins tackled their papa, giddy over his furry onesie look.

The snow began falling that early morning.

As the puppy dog that is Yuji dragged a scolding Megumi outside who didn't want to abandon his cooking duty and let a fire start when a handful of snow was smushed into his now welt forming face.

Yuji's speed was tested by Divine Dog Totality with Megumi riding atop, chasing his salmon boi across the private snowy grounds, as snowballs streaked the air.

A concern Tsumiki tried yelling out her scolding remarks to her brother as she ran out the back patio doors but he was too far off to hear, so her exasperated self plopped down into the snow, getting into the mood to cool down and make a snow angel.

Junpei floundered, his arms and legs jerking as he was doing his best to stay upright even as Tsumiki legit dragged him down with a radiant smile sent his way, going with the flow with a dopey smile on his face.

“SU.GU.RU~!”

“Yeah?”

“Lookie lookie!”

The puffy albino kitty cat and his raven furry mate nuzzled their heels, scurrying out between their legs and through the slide open back doors with cat sized Santa hats on, chasing each others tails.

“Catoru and Cuguru are matching! Say cheese!” Gojo Claus pulled out his phone to take so many pics.

Catoru's chirpy meow and Cuguru's calm meow were all they gave before trotting over to the twins, nuzzling their ankles as they built their snowmen family. Making sure to include a blindfold for one of them and a Gojo Kuja for its snow partner.

“Suguru … THINK FAST!”

Like future father in law, like future son in law.

The side of Geto's face was smothered in snow, giving off a welt mark contrasting Gojo's shit eating smirk.

“Prepare to die … SATORU!”

Choosing to retract his shikigami in preference of handling this matter himself, Megumi rolled across the snowy grounds as he and Yuji's snowball chucking garnered everyone else's attention, especially colliding with Gojo getting his face smushed with powder by a hissing Geto.

A soft rough coughing noise garnered their attention.

All their snowy heads plopped out of their white puffy pile.

Seeing you in that fuzzy velvet robe flowing from the blowing wind, your snug jammies, and velvet slippers as you walked out to admire the falling snow, breathing out to see your breath in a puffy white cloud, fading into purity.

Powder slowly descended from the heavens as you watched, entranced, as you gracefully floated.

“Unless you all want breakfast to get cold, come back inside.”

“Mrs. Claus.” Satoru breathed out in wonder at your tender voice.

“Are we getting our present?” Suguru coyly asked.

Devotion covered your face as you smiled, pressing a hand on your small growing baby bump. “You already have.”

“Oh yeah.” Those two exchanged smirks.

They gently pulled you down to submerge you in their suited powdery embrace, laughing at their gobsmacked expressions as you pulled out some mistletoe from your pockets to hang above your heads.

Lots of kisses between you three.

Yuji snuck in one to Megumi who slunk back in the snow, melting it from how hot he got.

It would be a while until breakfast would be eaten and presents be opened.

But even so …

Christmas had come at last.

[divinit3a]

hi!! time for an introduction :3

✸basics

call me pom! }> o _ u ☆ ☆ they/he | 25 | lovefool ☆ artist, hobbyist writer, full of silly schemes fun fact alert! i made my mascot a pomeranian bc that was the first icon i made for my ao3 years&years ago. any pom gets wifi fans left out there?

✸the wares i peddle

art #pom draws || writing #pom writes || memes/goofs #sillies rambles/asks #pom yaps || fic/AU recs #cafe menu ☆ sona / mascot ref

currently writing just keep playing along || #playing along (sfw, BUT tw: violence, mechanical horror) & the mechanics assistant || #mechanics assistant (sfw, BUT tw: robot gore, supernatural horror, haunting hijinks)

asks are open and i am always down to yap ^-^ <3

i enjoy creating reader x DCA scenarios as a mischievous narrator. let me put folks in Situations ^-^ !!! if ya like whatever i do, take it and make your own art/writing!! if you want to use my artwork as icons, wallpaper, etc, you have my permission! i'd love to be asked/informed, tho... <3 just dont repost!! i would be honored to be tagged for any adjacent art/writing... (づ_ど) a dream come true.

i draw sweetness (yay) and horror (yippie) and perhaps, succumb to my urge to animate sound bytes that live in my head rent free.

reblog account!! yay!!! i dont know how to use tumblr anymore, help this grandpa out OTL

✸lay down the law

i rejoined tumblr to hop into the DCA community & make friends! yall are sweet!! ☆

there will be elements of mechanical horror/robot gore, and it will always be tagged as such.

i understand that minors will follow/interact with this blog, though its contents are intended to be (16+) while im happy to encourage young creatives on their artistic journey, im afraid we cant be friends if you are a minor. please unfollow/block me if you need to!

i dont personally draw/write explicit nsfw, but artwork/writing may be scary or spicy. as a treat. reblogs and fic recs will be marked as nsfw/sfw.

blog is intended for FNAF!! sorry, i dont know the webseries... but feel free to still treat my art as whatever u fancy :3 i aint the fun police!!!

other interests i have are: Pokemon, Vocaloid, Sonic, Undertale, Yes Man Fallout NV I Miss you Come Back -- so there might be overlap/inspiration !!!

✸my cup of tea

i love horror, looove, and absolute tomfoolery. silly, surreal situations are perhaps my favorite ones to orchestrate. y/n is simply another barbie on the chessboard ^-^ ;; lets play toyce?

focusing on the robotics. waiter give me ten more please

i adore everyone's AU's and renditions of the DCA!! every time i find a new one i am amazed by ppls creativity!! i am eating every single cake deliciously. i hope to draw fanart of the all the fics i love, but i fear there are many. so many.

✸thanks for havin' me!!